#I think he’s waking up again as I just saw his antennaes moving

[a-concert-just-for-me]

Everybody please wish a “please put on some fucking pants” to my naked hermit crab

OnlyCrabs content below if you’re a freak like me

I put him in a little iso container with sand/ecoearth mix, reg food, healing foods, primed salt water, primed fresh water, thermometer/hydrometer (which won’t be very accurate because it’s sitting on wet sand but alas), and of course, a variety of shells.

Hopefully this vacation retreat will force him back into the societal norm of “no public nudity.”

[kodared]

☆ Welcome home Neighbor~! ☆

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You explain everything to Howdy.

Chapter 6/?

Word Count: 4,172 Out of 16,669

Your body felt as if it had been wrapped in the softest hand-spun silk known to man, your legs shifting underneath the blanket to savor its warmth on your legs.

 The warm comfort of sleep tempted you to be lulled back into its embrace before you realized the spare blanket Howdy gave you was much more coarse than this comforter currently atop of you. 

You sat up quickly, the lack of windows disrupting your internal clock as you struggled to piece together what time it was. The large bed contained only you, which left you to wonder where was Howdy?  

Your hands cautiously threw themselves about in the dark, hoping to hit or grab ahold of a lamp to give you some sense of reality. Your hand thankfully grabbed onto a dangling lamp switch, pulling down softly with a “Click” The room was overtaken by the warm light of the lamp. 

You didn't have to worry about where Howdy was for long before you saw the sleeping man curled up on the floor with a few spare blankets and pillows, the sight would have made you laugh if it wasn't for the fact it was your fault he had to sleep there and not on his own bed. 

Exceeding great caution you stepped off of the bed, grossly underestimating the sheer size of it. 

You slid off the bed lacking all sense of grace, one of your knees hitting the floor as you tried desperately to silence your groan in pain... That would leave a bruise and you knew it, Howdy stirred in his sleep, the pile of blankets shifting to reveal the man's disshelved face.

His hair again stuck up in all sorts of directions, his antennae twitched as his eyes groggily opened, one of his hands raised to shield his eyes from the light coming off of his lamp, 

��Hmgh…? Oh!”    If he had any sense of confusion left, it vanished once he saw you were awake, 

He sat up, wriggling himself from the blankets that bound his arms to sit up properly, 

“Y/N..!  Happy to see you're awake,” 

You quickly shifted yourself off of your knees and moved to sit criss-cross facing Howdy, mhm yep you totally meant to fall and wake him up, such a clever human you were, 

“Good morin Howd’s, How’d you sleep..?” 

Your eyebrows creased as you took in the man's appearance in depth, his hair was askew more than usual, and his eyes somehow held small wrinkles under them. Indicating he didn't sleep as well as he would've hoped, Howdy was a very organized man after all,

“Mm, I slept alright,” 

Noticing your distress he moved to change the subject, his hand raising again to wipe his eyes before he continued his thought, 

“Howre you feeling Y/N..? I know ya’ had a rough night last night,” 

You recalled the night before very well to your dismay. You wished you had just stayed in bed and didn't worry about your hair for once. 

“I'm feeling better now Howdy, Im sorry for making you sleep on the floor, you could've just put me back in the living room I would've been fine,” 

You tried not to come off as ungrateful, you would forever be in debt to the man after all. Your eyes met the floor again as your arms crossed against your chest, if you could curl into a ball and cease existing you would've. 

Howdy looked more concerned than anything, his antennae drooped as he scooted himself over to you, sitting against the bed beside you as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders,

“Now what's gotcha’ thinking you don't deserve a helping hand? I didn't mind sleepin' on the floor! I did it a lot as a small caterpillar,” 

Your head had already begun to sink into your knees as you shifted positions, now you really wanted to curl up and die. 

Howdy had been nothing but nice to you and yet you still hadn't told him the truth about how you got here. 

“...”   You couldn't see it but his spare hands clenched in worry as his eyes focused on your posture, 

“I gotta feeling this isn't about me sleeping on the floor Y/N..”  

His hand that was resting on your shoulder applied pressure, allowing you to lean into him if you so wished. 

“What's eatin’ ya up inside? I won't tell a soul, Promise.” 

You lifted your head as you looked into Howdys eyes, your tears threatening to spill over at the slightest inconvenience, You felt vulnerable. And as much as you didn't like it, Howdy deserved to know. 

“I… I know how I got here. And it wasn't through a missing cat or missing dog.” 

His eyes widened as you spoke, he didn't pry for you to speak when you didn't wish to, he occupied his hands by rubbing soothing circles into your back with his lower hand. 

It took you a few moments to compose yourself, your eyes glued to the floor again as you sniffled before continuing. 

“I had left with my friends one night, we were going to trespass on an old Studio for spare files so we could sell them. Of course, I tagged along, I was so dumb to do it Howd’s, I had a bad feeling from the start.”

You stopped your long-winded rant to take a breath, your chest felt tight despite your arms unfolding from your chest to emote with them, you continued, still not meeting Howdys gaze.

“So I went into this Studio, heard footsteps, and I..” 

You deluged deep into your brain. Wracking for words to describe the sheer panic you felt before arriving here.

“I felt eyes. Howdy there were so many eyes on me, I know because I felt them. I was so scared, and dizzy… And then I woke up here, but… The studio published things too..” 

Finally gathering the courage to meet Howdys eyes, you saw his eyebrows knitting together as his face looked panicked. Whether he was panicked for you or for what you were

 about to say was lost to you as you continued. 

You reached into your jacket, unfolding the various papers that had been safely stored within, all of which contained pictures of Howdy and his friends, some with frightening headlines.

As you handed them off to Howdy you made sure to hold onto the ones with headlines painting him as “demonic”, he didn't deserve to read that. 

His eyes scanned over the papers, his hands shaking as he carefully cradled them in his hands as if they were prized porcelain. 

He didn't need to say anything, you knew he was scared. You wished you never told him, and oh how you wished this could just all be a bad dream. 

Howdy didn't say anything for a good long while after that, his hand even halted in his soothing motion on your back. You reserved yourself to hide your face in your knees before Howdy took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. 

“Yknow I always knew there was something interestin’ about you Y/N,” 

A small breathy laugh left his mouth as he spoke, his voice almost sounding… Relieved? 

You rose your head from your knees as he continued, still not meeting his eyes. 

“Thank you for telling me y/n, I know it must've been scary for you.” 

His hand resumed its comforting motions on your back, you were confused. He should be mad, hell. He should be casting you out of his house, leaving you for the wolves. 

None of that anger came though... 

“...I don't get it,” 

You lifted your head meeting his gaze, his eyes held no anger, all you could see was a pure, genuine, concern. 

“You should be mad... Not consoling me, I… I held this information from you for so long, you've been nothing but nice to me too..” 

Howdy looked shocked as you continued, clearly not expecting you to say that, 

“You could have told me the day you left Y/N and I would still be your friend.” 

Your body shuddered as you broke into crying, again. This whole situation had you on edge, you were scared, and you dont know what you would do if you hadn't met Howdy. 

You put all of your weight into Howdy, allowing him to be your support as he pulled you in for a hug. You have never felt this loved before in your life, and it felt nice to have support. 

It took you a few minutes to compose yourself again, wiping your eyes as you leaned off of Howdy and taking the papers back as he held them to you. 

“Well, I suppose that explains how you got here... But we still need to find a way to getcha home..”   Howdy said with a hint of sadness in his voice, 

You nodded, folding the papers and placing them back inside your pocket. The remnants of where the pocket was sewn up still remain from the previous night. 

“...Speaking of which Howdy, there's one more thing about last night I need to tell you..” 

“You got the floor lovebug’” 

Shaking off the cute nickname Howdy gave you, you continued. 

“Last night, I saw Wally, but he felt… off.  His eyes were huge and he chased me with something in his hand... I think he may know how I got here,” 

Howdy stood off of the floor, offering you a hand, which you politely took, allowing him to steady you on your shaky feet. 

“Wally always has wide eyes Y/N, He may have just been tryin’ to hand you somethin’”

You didn't expect Howdy to 100% believe you anyways, your head drooped again, Howdy was quick to comfort you, 

“..But if it makes ya feel any better Y/N I won't let him do nothin’ to ya, Your always safe and welcome here.” 

Oh how you loved this bug, you perked up instantly as he opened his bedroom door, gesturing for you to follow. 

“For now we gotta get you some food! Frank told me humans liked routine when eating,”

 You let yourself laugh as you followed Howdy out and upstairs into his office, with him gesturing to the shop with his lower hands, 

“Feel free to grab anything! I'm gonna get dressed for the day ahead,” 

You nodded and walked out into the shop, the cold tile feeling nice on your feet in the early morning. The sun had already risen in the sky, you and Howdy must have slept in, 

And as you saw Frank outside holding a Net you definitely knew you and Howdy slept in… 

You slowly walked to the doors, moving to greet Frank and invite him into Howdys shop, surely he wouldn't mind if you helped out a neighbor before he got dressed. 

Frank was quick to walk into the Store, looking you up and down as he did so, clearly still analyzing you, 

Disregarding that you still gave him a polite greeting,

“Good morning Frank! Howdy will be out soon, do you need help finding anything?”

It was the least you could do for Howdy after all, Frank took his attention off of you and began walking to the produce section, not returning your greeting. 

You knew he was the quiet type so you didn't take offense when he ignored you, returning to your spot behind the counter after grabbing an orange, and beginning to peel it before Frank spoke up from across the store, 

“I still have questions from yesterday I meant to ask.” 

You looked up from the orange you were peeling to see him walking to the Counter holding a few apples and carrots, you set your half-peeled orange down and looked for Howdys bags, 

“Ask away Frank!”    You liked how upfront he was with how he felt, even if it may come across as blunt to others, you found comfort in his straightforward nature. 

“First question, How do you eat?” 

You guessed that question made sense, seeing as you never ate at Barnaby's the previous night before. Your body was still punishing you for your poor eating habits... 

“Well, I eat with my teeth,”

You finally found the paper bags Howdy used and began to bag Frank's produce as you continued, 

“I just put it in my mouth and chew,” 

“Do they help you with speaking too?” 

You assumed Frank was talking about your teeth so you finished bagging his items and sat back down, holding your Orange again as you continued to peel it. 

“Yeah! My tongue does most of the work though,” 

To emphasize your point you stuck your tongue out at Frank similar to how you would at your friends if they teased you too much before pulling it back in, Frank's eyes were filled with curiosity as you did so. 

“My tongue also lets me taste the food I eat, like this orange,” 

You tore off a slice and held it for emphasis, 

“This orange is citrusy, and I know that because when I eat it I taste it,” 

You popped it into your mouth and chewed to savor the flavor as opposed to just swallowing it whole like your hungry brain wanted. 

Frank watched with great curiosity, you felt embarrassed to be eating in front of someone so you quickly chewed and swallowed after realizing he was staring, while pushing Frank his groceries, 

“Andd for payment I have a question for you Frank!” 

You copied what Howdy did for you as payment, this didn't seem like a very sound business practice but there seemed to be no money here anyways, 

Frank just nodded and took his groceries in one hand while he watched you still, You tried not to pay any mind to his staring, 

“Do you eat and taste things?”   

 It seemed to be a fair question, he was getting food after all, 

He thought for a second, his foot tapping on the tile floor as he pondered before speaking, 

“I do, but it's not in the way that you do it Seems.” 

Frank took a breath before continuing, 

“I know what Apples and Carrots Should taste like, However, I cannot actually eat them in the way you do, my Butterflies are an exemption to this though, Thus being why I'm here.” 

You ate another slice of your orange before he mentioned owning butterflies, now that caught your attention for sure, 

“You own butterflies?” 

“Im an Entomologist, I study and Classify the various bugs here.” 

That definitely made sense now that you thought about it... But wouldn't Howdy being a caterpillar make it weird to own Butterflies? 

…..Can he turn into a Butterfly?? 

Brushing off those thoughts you continued speaking to Frank,

“That's super cool! Maybe sometime I can come over and see them while I'm in town!” 

“Highly unlikely, You don't seem like one to enjoy bugs.” 

…Okay ouch, you guessed this is why his name was Frank Frankly, he was blunt. 

Frank took notice of your hurt expression as he turned to leave, he halted for a moment, 

“...That was a joke, Eddie told me it helps make friends.” 

You perked up at that and gave Frank a smile, Frank and Eddie seemed good for each other. You gave him a wave before he left the store, Howdy appeared from the Office as Frank left. 

Howdy had a big goofy grin on his face as he walked out before speaking,

“You did amazing little Caterpillar!!” 

He hugged you for the second time today, you were quick to set your orange down so it didn't get crushed, you were beginning to think Howdy was just affectionate, 

“Whad’th i do,” 

Muffled by his hug he finally let go, his big grin still glued to his face, 

“You helped and even checked out a Customer! Thank you by the way,” 

His big goofy grin was replaced by a bashful smile as he backed up and walked away, sorting the shelves as he walked, 

“It was no problem really! Frank’s nice, he seems smart too, he could maybe even help me home if I told him what has been going on..” 

Howdy stopped sorting for a second, if you hadn't been paying attention to him you wouldn't have even noticed, As he spoke his voice still held a sad tinge to it, 

“Yeah, he could..! Speakin’ of seein’ people, don't you got the Spa day with Wally and Julie today?” 

Howdy seemed to shake off the sadness that took hold of him, turning his head to playfully wink at you as he picked up a stray can from the shelf. 

“You need to get ready! It's already Noon lil Monarch!” 

Your face flushed as you hurried to finish your orange, throwing the peel in the trash under Howdys counter before scurrying off into Howdys office, you didn't want to leave Julie and Wally waiting after all. 

You could hear Howdy letting out a genuine laugh as you shut the Office door and took off for the bathroom, you were used to getting ready fast but that was in your own home, and you also didn't exactly have many outfits apart from the ones Sally lent you. 

After a few minutes of freshening up in the bathroom, you took a look in the mirror and tried not to focus on your eyebags as you shot the mirror a smile before leaving, 

Slipping on your shoes you walked out into the Shop and saw a familiar tall bird talking with Howdy, her wing covering her beak as she laughed while Howdy spoke, 

“..- And then I said, Barnaby your a dog but your not a hot one..!” 

You let a smile form on your face as you watched the two interact, Poppy eventually looking over behind the counter to see you, her face lighting up instantly as she moved her wing from her face,

You couldn't think for much longer before Poppy ran over to you, fanning her wings as she spoke, 

“Oh, you look absolutely Darlin’ in Sally's outfit she made ya! Ooo I just knew Howdy would take good care of ya Y/N!” 

You walked from behind the counter, Poppy giving you room to move as you looked up at her still smiling, 

“Haha, yeah! It's nice to see you Ms.Partridge!” 

Her feathers rustled and puffed as you realized all too late you accidentally called her by her last name again, 

“M’Dear I told you already there's no need for the Formalities! Now have you been eatin' alright? Just say the word and ill fix you up a lovely Pastry!” 

You didn't even have to say anything before your stomach growled, your face blushing again as you tried desperately to say an excuse and that you weren't hungry, 

Of course, she didn't care, already frantically walking back to Howdy to ask for more flour and blueberries, 

“..- Howdy! I need your finest Flour, Baking powder, and Blueberries! This poor dear is practically wasting away-!” 

Howdy shook his head and motioned for you to go ahead and be on your way to Julies, internally thanking him as you walked by quickly, If Poppy was anything like your relatives she will be baking up a storm later. 

The walk to Julies was uneventful apart from spotting Eddie running to Barnabys carrying a conveniently dog-bone-shaped box, you tried to give him a wave but you supposed he was in too much of a rush to notice you, 

It didn't take long for you to spot a mailbox with Julie's name written on it, as you walked to her door you took notice of her heart-themed windows and doormat, she did come off as a pink kinda girl, 

Your hand hadn't even made it to the door before it swung open, revealing a hyper Julie... 

… And a Wally behind her with his hair down in Curlers… 

“I was wondering where you were Y/N! Me and Wally already started on our hair!” 

Despite her saying they started on their hair, Julie's hair looked to be virtually untouched apart from a few extra hairclips, 

“Haha, yeah I ran a tad late, me and Howdy slept in a bit..” 

You gave Julie a genuine smile as you apologized for being late, you moved side to side on your feet awkwardly before Wally spoke from behind her, 

“that's quite alright Neighbor, your here now, which reminds me,” 

Wally turned around and walked into Julie's house, Julie only shrugged with her big smile still plastered on her face, and took your hand to bring you into the house. 

As you entered you were welcomed with various pastel colors, and a very well kept Living room with various arts and crafts scattered about, 

“Don't mind the mess, Eddie stopped by earlier!” 

Julie pushed a few stray papers off of the table as she made you sit on her couch, motioning for you to get comfortable, 

“Does Eddie like Arts and crafts?” 

Your eyes landed on a paper chain made of various papers and colors, 

“Oh you betcha! Eddie loves just about anything with paper, he likes to make chains with them, origami…” 

Julie raised her hand to count off what Eddie enjoyed about Arts an crafts as you sink further into the soft couch, 

Wally came to your rescue thankfully, holding a red hairbrush, you had almost completely forgotten about that, 

“Ah! Thank you Wally!” 

You accidentally cut off Julie in surprise to see Wally holding the hairbrush, Julie didn't seem to mind as she walked off to her bathroom to gather various Spa items, 

Wally sat next to you on the couch, you held out your hand for him to give it to you, but he never did. 

“its no problem neighbor, i forgot to run it by howdys yesterday..” 

“I thought I saw you at Howdys yesterday night though?” 

You couldn't stop yourself before the words left your lips, swallowing down your anxiety as you tried to steady your breathing, bracing for his response. 

Wally let out a laugh as he spoke, 

“Ha ha ha, sorry neighbor you must have been mistaken, i never left home last night,”

You were quick to run with it, a faint static feeling buzzed behind your eyes in your skull. 

“Oh yeah sorry.. I guess I was tired and remembered wrong,” 

“its alright, we all make mistakes neighbor,” 

Wally moved closer to you on the couch, motioning for you to turn around, you gave him a confused look as he laughed again, 

“turn around so i can brush your hair silly,” 

You weren't particularly keen on allowing him to touch your hair, especially after the conversation the two of you just shared. 

…But you were also an anxious mess and didn't like confrontation. So without much complaint, you turned around and slouched slightly for the small man to brush your hair, 

He was surprisingly gentle, you found yourself relaxing into his touch before he spoke, 

“do all humans have such soft hair?” 

He questioned as he picked through a particularly tough knot, he was very careful to not pull too harshly. 

“I mean, depends on the person I guess, some humans have different types of hair too,” 

Before Wally could continue speaking you heard Julie emerge from the bathroom, holding various face masks and nail polishes, 

She made a shocked face at you and Wally as she set all of her items down, her hands going to her hips as she huffed, 

“I wanted to help brush their hair! I am the hair expert after all!” 

She flipped the corner of her hair in emphasis, a few messily placed hair clips softly hitting the floor as she did so, 

“ha ha ha, sorry julie, you can finish up if you wish,” 

Wally stopped brushing your hair as Julie nodded enthusiastically, the differences between the two were very clear as Julie began brushing your hair. 

Julie didn't seem to take much care into being gentle as Wally did, opting for brushing over the tangles quickly, 

“Julie..! Could you maybe be a bit gentler..? Humans have.. Sensitive scalps” 

You had no clue if that could stand for all humans but Julie seemed to get the point, moving more carefully as she passed over your tangles, it felt nice. 

The buzzing feeling seemed to fade into a comforting hum behind your eyes, similar to an AC unit on a hot day. 

Wally smiled as he watched the two of you before Julie halted in brushing, and excitedly flapped her hands, 

“Oh my gosh! I have the most perfect idea!” 

You and Wally looked at her, Wally letting out a small hum in questioning, 

“We should share this Spa day with Home too!! Yknow, paint them up an make them feel pretty!” 

“that sounds lovely julie, what do you think neighbor?” 

You hadn't met ‘Home’ yet so you supposed it was as good of a time as any to meet the other neighbor, 

“Yeah sure!” 

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Yippie! Hope you all enjoyed! This week ill be working on chipping away at the Requests you all submitted so be looking forward to that!

As always my Ao3 Recieves Chapter releases first, so feel free to follow there as well!

~Till next time! ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ

[laalaaisqueen]

I won't be surprised if I end up rewriting the death scenes again in the future :/

-

Po huffs as she turns side to side.

She's turned her red pillow over.

Rested her face in her Tinky Winky plushie.

She could not fucking sleep no matter what she did. She was at her last straw.

The red Tubby rolls out of her bed, plush under her arm as she leaves her room. She was going to ask Tinky for help but he strangely was standing at the custard machine instead of in his room.

"Tinky?"

He lifted something over his head, even in the dark she saw this was the toolbox. Po was so baffled at his actions that she didn't move to stop him.

Obviously, it broke and the pink…glowing custard splattered on his face. It would have been comdic if Tinky didn't run for the doors instead of the bathroom.

"Tinky! Wait, where are you going?!"

Po runs to the tool bench to grab a flashlight.

"Po, what's going on?" Laa-Laa tiredly pokes out of her room.

"Tinky ran outside! He might get hurt or lost!" She runs outside.

The yellow Teletubby finally notices the broken custard machine.

Since when did their custard glow?

Laa-Laa follows after her, Tinky probably COULD get lost considering he never leaves the dome at night.

Po shines her light everywhere, but couldn't find any clue where Tinky could have gone. Too bad it wasn't snowing.

…Then again if it was snowing, that'd be really cold for their feet.

"Can you not shine it everywhere?" Laa-Laa covers one of her eyes. "I'll go check the lake."

-

Laa-Laa didn't actually expect to find him there.

Tinky only really went to the lake if Po asked him to, he didn't exactly enjoy sand on his feet and he couldn't swim.

So to see him on his knees against the sand puzzled her.

As Laa-Laa walked closer, she swore she could smell a hint of blood.

"Tinky?"

His whole body stiffened and he didn't answer.

"Are you hurt?"

He didn't even nod nor shake his head. Just tensed up his muscles before.

She squints to see better as she strolls closer, despite a nagging feeling telling her to stop. She thinks she can see…drops of blood dripping from his claws.

Startling and confusing why he would have them out.

Was this a possible form of sleepwalking?

Tinky Winky suddenly dug his claws into his arms.

"H…Hey! Wait don't do that!" She broke into a run and tried pulling his arms away.

The purple Tubby shrieked and swiped his claws across her face.

Laa-Laa yelped in pain, the force somehow made her head hit against a tree. She was unable to prop herself up due to Tinky screaming again and scratching at her face.

"Tinky! OW!" Instcively her own claws strike out.

The taller Tele squeals out in pain as hot pain explodes on his face and antenna. His arms jerk maybe hopfully to stop the odd behavior.

But his claws twist.

Laa-Laa and Dipsy have played hardcore pranks on each other. She once held a soaked rag over his mouth and nose to wake him up once. They had a good laugh about it once Dipsy's brain recovered from the near death experince. It's fine he got back at her once by holding a pillow over her face.

But she's positive having your eyeballs pireced by claws has to be the worse pain she's experinced. She didn't even know who was screaming louder.

-

Po looks away from the glowing custard bowl when she hears high pitch screams. They sounded like Tinky and Laa-Laa!

She runs as fast as she could.

She's almost out of breath when she gets to the lake. Her light lands on Tinky Winky's back, though he tensed when that happened.

Her purple eyes glance at a still body.

"What in the world is Laa-Laa doing?" Po sighs with expersation. This was not the time for jokes.

"Tinky?" The bigger Tubby was breathing shakily and quick. "Are you okay?"

The second her red fingers brushed the fabric of his shirt, he snapped his body around. At such a fast pace that should be not possible.

He was bleeding on his face, arms, and even his antenna.

And he was much more paler than usual, as if he just saw a ghost. The white of his eyes were black. His red and white eyes looked dazed and glistening with black unshed tears.

Before she could ask him again what was wrong, he opened his mouth and screamed while digging his claws into his cuts.

Po ran her way back to the dome in a panic, she needed to get their first aid kit.

She felt like her lungs would explode by the time she got inside. She drops the flashlight and stumbles into the bathroom, she did not even think to turn on the light as she searches through the drawers.

Po paused in her search when she heard the dome doors open. She hears heavy footsteps go towards the direction of Dipsy's door.

No way it could be Tinky, the lake was kinda far and he wasn't a fast runner.

There's a long rattling of the doorknob before the door opens.

It's silent for a moment, she stays still just in case it's someone she doesn't know.

"What the fuck-" Dipsy's voice yelps out.

-

He was having a nice dream where he finally found his hat.

Which was intruptted by someone grabbing at his neck.

Dipsy had expected to open his eyes to Laa-Laa playing one of their many pranks, instead he was surprised to find Tinky towering over him.

"What the fuck-" He grabs at his arms and tries forcing him back. "Whatever this is for-"

The black claws struggled to dig into the dark skin under the fluffy layers of fur.

"I'm really sorry, so just calm down-"

Tinky shireks and the muscles in his arms stiffen as if it was struggling to handle a heavy load.

His hands suddenly twist and if anyone else was in the room, they would have heard the snap.

Po's head hurt, her stomach too, what was happening?

She had given up on finding the kit and stumbled into the main room, this time from shock rather than her lungs needing a break.

Tinky Winky leaves Dipsy's room, back at the lake his eyes looked dazed, but now it seemed like life was slowly being drained from his face.

She half expected him to charge at her or something…based on how Dipsy never came out after him.

But instead his limbs seemed to lock up and he shut his eyes while gritting his teeth. Along with twisting his body so hard that Po worried he was going to break something.

Po runs out the dome, she didn't know where to go but maybe Tinky wouldn't injury himself elsewhere if she ran.

She carries her plush almost everywhere that she only dimly realized she was still holding it under her arm.

It felt dumb to do but she cast a glance behind her, Tinky appearently followed her out but froze again.

Po kept running, the sky showed no signs of storms so she was surprised when a tree fell down in front of her.

Her right hand grabs the knife on her thigh, stabs it into the wood and swings herself over the fallen tree. She's a bit dizzy as she yanks the blade out and contuines running.

Obviously nothing lucky is going to be happening as ANOTHER tree falls down. This one she couldn't get over so she ran to the side, she falls on her knees against a tree that hopfully did not plan on falling over.

Po turns around and squeals as she's pratically crushed. At newly thirteen she is much shorter than Tinky, she's frankly surprised that his weight didn't kill her. It broke her TV screen though.

Trying to speak just resulted in gasping for air and pink liquid dripping out of her mouth.

She began to get lightheaded as he was that heavy on her smaller body. Her brain locking itself out of reality.

Suddenly she was kicking at air, she tries to grab at her neck but she couldn't get her arms to work.

Po looks down and sees Tinky Winky looking up at her. His arms flat at his sides, his shoulders slumped in seemingly defeat and his empty eyes.

The last thing she saw as her eyes rolled back, was the rope attached to the branch and neck.

[f-lvke]

"Papa?"

Andrew turned at the voice, his eyes widening. He looked… scared?

Lucas followed his gaze, confusion filling him when he saw the child in the doorway of the bar.

The kid looked no older than ten, and their small green wings and fluffy antennas dipped to match the frown on their face.

Lucas looked confused, to say the least. Andrew was just a bit older than he was.. and already a father? And Q- wouldn't that make Q a grandfather as well? As he took in the small child, he tried to blink the confusion out of his eyes.

Though, as he was doing so–

"LUCAS?"

His mother walked through the doorway, likely to have been tailing the young child, following them in a slower pace. The disapproval on her face matched her weary tone, their eyes narrowed.

Their wings fluttered in the stiff air, as they finally reached the younger child, putting a hand on their shoulder. Their expression softened for just a moment as they made sure the mothling was okay, hardening again when Squoople looked up at her son.

"What do you think you're doing here, you're only seventeen, this is ridiculous–"

Andrew turned his head just the slightest, as if intimidated by the older mothling, which didn't surprise Lucas; something about her motherly demeanor seemed to make any man quiver beneath(or rather, above) her.

"You shouldn't be here, Lucas, you know that. And you," Squoople snapped at Andrew, making him flinch. "What do you think you're doing, leaving your daughter all alone while you go out for drinks?"

Andrew stiffened the slightest bit more with a hard swallow. He took a breath, and let the grip on his bottle loosen. "She was meant to be with her mother, or her brother. She was somewhere safe when I left."

"Well that wasn't enough, now was it?"

"Mama please-" Lucas frowned, having stood to be at his mother's side. He let out a small shriek as Mercury pulled him down to her height by his ear.

"Be lucky I'm not grounding you, Lucas. Now, quiet."

He tried to struggle out of her grip, but it only made her tighten it. He looked up at Andrew apologetically, to which he was met with a pitying smile. Squoople moved her hand instead to Lucas's collar, and her other hand took the small moth child's. Squoop eyed Andrew once more, in his drunken state.

"I'm taking the kids home with me. You better feel fucking lucky I'm doing this for you. But the next time we meet, be prepared."

Andrew gave a small nod, the worried look back in his eyes. Squoople pulled the two children with her out of the bar, tight grips on them both.

"Wait mama I need- I forgot my journal in there-" Lucas pleaded, his voice soft.

Squoople squinted at the boy, but let him go.

"Oh, well hurry up then."

Lucas hugged his mother quickly as a little thank you, and went back into the bar. Andrew raised an eyebrow at him, but he shook his head. He grabbed his journal, rubbing his finger on the cover. He put it back where it belonged, before letting his eyes linger on Andrew.

He put his hand on Andrew's jaw, tilting Andrew's face up to look at him better. His eyes were still clouded, but as deep as ever. He noted the warmth that spread even deeper on Andrew's cheeks before he spoke.

"We meet at your place. I can assume which home is yours. Be safe, and don't be an idiot. Okay?"

Andrew nodded, letting out a small shaky breath he hoped that Lucas wouldn't notice.

"Good. See you in a few days then."

He let go of Andrew and left the bar, with little more than the faintest of purple particles in his wake. Lucas rejoined his mother, and found the younger mothling's name to be Ash. The three went back to Squoople's home, and Squoople made sure the two kids both slept well that night.

The night was warm, comforting in a sense. The winds blew with change, and the moon gleamed with a kind light that one couldn't ignore. And all seemed well, that night.

[beef-brisket]

Lucifer woke up to him being softly shaken. He looked to Adam with dreamy eyes, thinking it was one of his arms in his shoulder.

Charlie: ...dad...?

Lucifer woke up fully. Instantly. Oh shit.

Turning his head, he saw Charlie. And Vaggie. Well, he can make this definitely not awkward.

Lucifer: hey there, sweety! Good morning- uh...

Lucifer looked over Adam and himself. His dick was still out, and so were Adams tits. Covered in bites. And dried blood. This wasn't looking good.

Charlie: Did Adam attack you, dad? Are you alright?

Vaggie: Charlie... they have a blanket over them... I think they were uh- sleeping, sweetie

Lucifer: yeah, kiddo! We were just sleeping-

Lucifer looked up and saw Adam slowly waking up. Pinching his thigh, Adam jumped and looked wide eyed at Charlie and Vaggie.

Adam: uh-wha-?

Lucifer: we were just sleeping- like friends do, right Adam?

Adam: o-oh uh- yeah- babe, sleeping- that's it

Adam stretched his top arms over his head and his lower arms over Lucifer. Relaxing, Adam started to go back to sleep. He didn't even notice Lucifer and Vaggies facial expressions to him calling Charlie 'babe'.

Charlie: Oh! Well, that's so sweet, dad! I'll close the door so you guys can go back to sleep!

Vaggie and Lucifer watched as Charlie strolled out of the room. Adam jumped and gripped Vaggies hand as she pulled his hair and antennas.

Adam: t-the fuck, bitch!?

Vaggie: do not call her 'babe' again, understand?

Adam glared at her but soon smirked.

Adam: Still got that spear on you, Vagina? I've got a throat I'm sure you'd love to cut~. So get off my fucking dick and go grab your weapon, do some real fucking damage!

Lucifer: Adam. Enough.

Adam pushed Vaggie off, in the process he tried to untangle his legs from Lucifer.

Adam: fuck, you two can't take a fuckimg joke. Get over yourselves

Adam was getting frustrated that Lucifer was still in his way of putting his legs in a comfortable position.

Adam: move Luci-! Shit.

Lucifer: don't call my daughter pet names, Adam. And be respectful to Maggie-

Vaggie: Vaggie.

Lucifer Vaggie.

Adam: fuck- I can't believe you two are actually ruining my fucking morning- I had a real good night last night! But no! Someone has to always fuck it up-

Vaggie: stop acting like a victim, you're over 10,000 years old. Act like it, Adam.

Adam: oh, piss off Vagina and get out of my face!

Vaggie: This is a public space, Adam. If anything, you should get out of all of our faces.

Adam: I'm fucking- trying- move Lucifer!

Lucifer: no- I need you to calm down!

Adam: get off of me-! Now Lucifer- fucking- please!

Lucifer could see him start to get frustrated, and he really didn't want Adam to have another meltdown. So, keeping himself covered with the blanket, Lucifer moved back and off of Adam. He kept eye contact with Adam the whole time.

Vaggie cringed after the state of Adam and his outfit, stepping back as Adam got up.

Adam quickly fixed his dress and stormed out of the room, slamming the door. There were a few minutes of silence between Lucifer and Vaggie, before she sighed and headed for the door.

Vaggie: good luck with that man-child. You know, there was a reason Lilith picked you, right? He's the fucking worst

Lucifer watched as he left the room. Lucifer sighed and looked down, rubbing his face.

Lucifer: Lucky me...

Moth!Adam having a nightmare! This takes place a few days after arriving in Hell.

@fanofstuff01 MOTH ADAM

---

Charlie: Hey, dad? Could you go get Adam up? He's going to miss out on the group activity!

Lucifer: Honey, if he isn't even going to put I the effort, he shouldn't be here!

Charlie: dad- please, he's only just got here. This is a big change for him. Can you just go wake him?

Lucifer reluctantly agreed and made his way to Adams bedroom. Charlie put him on a floor that had no other members, thinking it would help him get use to things.

Arriving at Adam's door, Lucifer smiled. He decided to take the opportunity to scare Adam. It was almost Halloween, after all.

Lucifer walked softly to the top of Adam's bed. He could see his antennas flicking about. Ljcifer stood by his head for a few minutes, waiting for the perfect opportunity to scare him.

Adam: mm- no, stop... don't leave... please don't leave...

Lucifer chuckled. It must have been some popr winner in Heaven Adam was talking about.

Adam: L-Lu... please stay- pick me, please... don't leave... p-please choose me-

Lucifer stopped laughing and stared at the man. Oh... it was Eden he was having a nightmare about. Shit. He backed away as Adam started to thrash, his wings unfurling.

Lucifer had no idea no idea what to do. The poor guy even started crying. He decided to wake him up. Lucifer couldn't watch Adam cry and grip his blankets. It hurt too much.

Lucifer: Adam... ADAM-!

Lucifer reached over to shake his shoulder but jumped and teleported out of reach of Adam and his wings when Adam suddenly shot up, breathing hard.

Lucifer wasn't too familiar with Moth demons, he only knew of Valentino, and even then, he hadn't had many interactions with him, so he wasn't too sure how good Adams' eye slight was.

Adam: Luci...?

Lucifers eyes widened at the nickname- and the way Adam said it. It reminded him of Eden. Adam sounded so desperate and hopeful. Hopeful that Lucifer was there with him, that his nightmare wasn't true.

Lucifer wasn't sure if he wanted to say anything, he hadn't noticed him yet. That was until he noticed Adam looking around the room, eyes landing on Lucifer.

He felt like he should say something. So he waves and smiles, but just as he's about to say something, he heard Adam choke out a sob and bury his head in his hands, his lower arms wrapped around his thin torso.

Adam: t-thats right... you hate me... why would you be here...?

Lucifers heart broke. He didn't hate Adam. He was an asshole sometimes and a bastard for attacking his daughter, but he didn't hate him. He felt like he should, but he couldn't.

After a few minutes of crying, Adam tried to find his phone. Lucifer could see it on the side table, so he made the phone float in front of his hand. Adam didn't notice the magic, but found his phone. He squinted until his eyes were met with the bright light.

Adam grounded when he saw the time. He was really late now.

Adam: ...fuck it... they don't want me there, anyway... s-should have j-just stayed d-dead

Lucifer stood in the corner of Adam's room for 20 minutes. All he did was hug his pillow and cry. He could tell Adam was tired, but he couldn't fall back asleep.

He never knew how depressed Adam was. But then again, he'd never a good conversation with Adam since he got here. Lucifer really took the opportunity to get as much payback as possible now that he had a contract with him.

He wonders if all of this started when he called him an unlovable piece of shit, that not even the scumiest angels wanted. He knew he overstepped, judging by the look on his face and the lack of response.

For the next week, Lucifer stood in Adams room before he went to sleep and before he woke up. It was always the same: Adam would cry himself to sleep, and he'd have a nightmare about being abandoned and wake up shaking, covered in tears in the morning.

As Lucifer was in his room this night, he was hoping it would be different. Adam was with Angel for most of the day and seemed to be happier. But as soon as Adam sat on the edge of his bed, he knew it wasn't going to be a good night. It was actually about to get a lot worse.

Adam started crying as soon as he closed and locked his door. Fiddling with something in his pocket. Lucifer could see him playing with something as he sat on the edge of the bed.

It wasn't until Adam sat up straight that Lucifer saw it was the angelic needle Nifty originally used to kill him. Where the fuck did he find that!?

Lucifer really didn't plan to get involved when it came to his night watching, but Adam pressed the blade against his scar from the original attack, and start to push in far enough for his dark red blood to start welling up and running down his chest.

Lucifer: NO-!

Lucifer jumped into action. Snapping the blade out of his hands and placing it in Lucifer's hands.

Adam instantly jumped and looked around. Lucifer could see the pain in his big, golden eyes.

Adam: L-Luci-fer... Luci... ?

Lucifer couldn't bring himself to say anything as Adam looked around. He covered his mouth as he felt a tear fall. Adams eyes locked him his. Shit.

Adam: ...please...? Luci?

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut.

Adam: Not even allowed to finish the job, huh...? I'm just g-giving them what they w-want...

He opened them slowly, and he heard the rustling of Adam's blankets.

That night was worse.

So much worse.

Lucifer has never seen Adam look so small even at his towering height of 11". Adam curled up, hugging a pillow as tightly as he can.

Adam cried to himself all night. He didn't fall asleep at all. Just cried and begged for Lucifer. For it all to end.

Lucifer finally learned how good Adams eye site was. Hed often looked directly at him but saw nothing.

All night, Lucifer just gripped the angelic blade and stood still all night, hoping Adam wouldn't hear his sobbing.

Dude my fucking heart 😭

Adam knew Lucifer was there, he had to be. Blades just don't evaporate out of your fucking hand.

Why couldn't he just let Adam die for good? Lucifer didn't even want him here, nobody did. Sure he started getting along well with Angel but big deal.

Other than height being a moth demon was fucking stupid. He could barely see! He even had to have the largest print enabled on his phone so he could see to use it.

Adam ran out of tears quickly, he was dehydrated from it and he wasn't exactly drinking water to put anything back.

Lucifer never wanted him, so why not just let Adam go? To torture him probably.

Oh look, Adam did still have some tears to cry.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Meet Cute (GN!Reader/Mothman)

Pairing: GenderNeutral!Reader/Male!Mothman

Genre: Cryptids

Warnings: Car accidents, descriptions of bruisings and pain

Word Count: 2564 words

Summary: After an incident, You find yourself in the care of a rather strange savior.

Request: Hey, long time fan, but I could never think of anything to request! I was wondering if cryptids were considered monsters here? Would you be willing to write a meet-cute with Mothman? Maybe something along the lines of them saving the reader from a disaster and sparks fly, and boy, if that's not a pun: like a moth to a flame. Mothman can be man or gender neutral, and I'd like the reader to be gender neutral! But everything is to your discretion! Have fun~! And thank you~!

He doesn’t usually do this.

As he cradles your neck, feeling the microfibers of human hair at the base of your skull and your thrumming heartbeat, it feels as if you could shatter apart in his talons. Your pupils flutter behind your eyelids, the pain of the collison definitely affecting you, even in your near-unconscious state. He sets you down on the scraps of thrown away jackets and ratty down-comforters, paying extra attention to your head and side, where splotches of purple and yellow already bloom up your ribcage. You easily fall into the warmth of the pile, snuggling into the fabric.

He sighs, anxiety decreasing as your body relaxes. Having already checked you, he thinks you should last a night before needing to go to a human hospital, just to double-check. He perches by you, tuning the ancient radio to a subtle night-time station, and waits.

Your chest flutters rhythmically, peacefully. Your features seem to shine in the firelight, catching the shadows and giving the appearance of a Baroque painting. So serene for someone just hit by a car.

He sighs.

He just hopes you won’t freak out.

-------

You wake up in a jerk, immediately filled with regret as your right side screams in pain. You clench your teeth, hand immediately checking your ribs as the memories of last night come flooding back.

You had been walking back home after a night out with your friends. You weren’t drunk, barely even tipsy, but had decided to walk the short path to your tiny house anyway. It was quick, just a 5 minute jaunt by the side of the highway and away from the bar. Just enough time for some asshole to swerve off the side of the road, send you flying, and take off without a care for the deer they assumed they just killed.

It takes a little while longer for you to process that you are definitely not in a hospital right now; Not even in your own house, or any house for that matter. A dying fire crackles nearby, the rising sun beams peaking through makeshift curtains attached to a structure of branches. You sit in a small pallet of fabric, right next to a collection of newspapers and old cctvs.

It’s ramshackle, sure, but well-loved. It doesn’t look like a permanent residence, but is lived-in nonetheless.

“Are you feeling alright?”

A calm tenor breaks the silence, causing you to shoot your eyes away from your surroundings and to focus on the person across from you.

Well, person probably isn’t the right word.

His eyes, even in the morning light, flash with red. They’re huge, set deeply into his face with very indistinguishable features. His neck is nestled into a large amount of fluff, reminiscent of winter scarf, that extends back into his large wings, which are tucked behind him. The antennas that flicker on top of his head are distinctly insect-like, but his long, muscular body and hands are more mammalian. Not human, but more similar to an animal. His hands are long and near-spindly, each finger ended with a long claw.

All these features should come together into an uncanny-valley, terror-inducing nightmare. But there’s something about his voice, the way he sits, so cautious yet concerned, that says the contrary.

“U-Uh...I think so.” You shift your body, a lightning bolt of pain shoots through your ribs and you wince. “I’ve felt better, though.” You tentatively lean down and touch your side, trying to check for a fracture without hurting yourself even more.

The creature stands up, wings still closed and kept to his back, and walks over to you.

“Would you mind if I checked your injuries? I have some experience with collisions such as yours.”

After a second, you nod. He steps closer to you, still moving at a micro-speed, and his hands slowly begin to wander up your side. You suck in a breath, but are more afraid of the potential pain than him. His slow, southern drawl reminds you of old movies and your grandpa, radiating comfort with almost every word. Plus, whatever he was, he had shown you more compassion than the human asshole who had hit you last night, so you felt a little more relaxed having him this close.

Nevertheless, he treats you gingerly, fingers just grazing your bruised side. You wince as his index finger finds a particularly dark bruise, and the creature quickly pulls back.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, it just-fuck that hurt.”

The creature nods but doesn’t move to touch you again.

“Does it hurt when you breathe deeply?”

You shake your head. You had been taking calming breaths to assuage the anxiety of waking up in what might be a monster’s den.

The monster hums, a light chittering sound, like several wind chimes all at once. He reaches over to a small, nearly-rotted, medicine bag in the corner and pulls out an ancient-looking jar of pain cream. He gingerly slides it towards you. “You may try this, it might relieve the pain for a while. Although you should probably see a human doctor to see if you’ve sustained any serious damage to your ribcage.”

You uncork the cream and tentatively dab a bit on your fingers, looking up with a  shaky smile to your savior.

“Uh, t-thank you. For everything-”

Growl

Your hand jerks to your stomach, face going flush as you accidentally brush against your swollen side. The creature perks up.

“I believe I have some human food. Would you like some?”

Sucking in a quick breath, trying to hide the tiny pain and your embarrassment, you nod.

The creature stands up, fumbling with the remains of a kitchen cabinet. From his hunched posture, you’d guess this tiny shelter isn’t big enough for his full height. With his long fingers, he reaches and flicks on the radio. The sounds of a local station’s jingle filters through the air as he grabs a can of beans from a shelf.

You slowly begin to rub in the medication to your side, occasionally looking up at your savior as he flutters around his den. Despite his extended limbs and large body, every movement is very similar to that of a human’s; He moves around the make-shift kitchen like a doting partner, a thought which brings a small blush to your face.

The illusion is shattered when he tears the top of the can clean off, cutting through the metal like a hot knife through butter. As he turns to rekindle the fire and start your breakfast, you quickly look back to your wound, trying to hide your curiosity.

The creature lazily stirs your breakfast as a song begins playing on the radio. The strumming bass is perfect for the morning haze, the low drawl of the singer rhythmic and relaxing. You notice the creature bobbing his head, humming along to the tune. His voice sounds slightly distorted, squeaking like the crackle of tv static. You find you quite like it.

The silence returns, filled only by the radio and the crackling fire. The creature's disposition is amicable, but you're still not sure how to initiate small talk.

“Um, thank you, again. For everything. You really saved my ass.”

The creature gestures with their hand as if to say “No problem.”

“I saw that man hit you with that car and take off. As you were hidden from the road, I thought it best I intervene.” The creature pulls off the now-cooked beans and grabs a spoon, handing the can to you. You take it eagerly, another rumble growling from your stomach. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, foregoing all table manners to scarf down the breakfast.

“If I am being honest, I don’t typically interact with humans in such a….direct manner.”

“Ah, I guess that,” You eyes do another survey of his gangly, inhuman appearance, “makes sense.”

The creature nods, grabbing an apple before sitting across the fire from you. You can tell he is tense, probably waiting with baited breath for you to come to your senses and scream. There is a small part of you that wants too, desperately, but you silence it with a large mouthful of beans. The apple is tossed back and forth between the creatures hands, his eyes locked on the fire. The curiosity of how he eats things sneaks its way into your thought process. “Do you have a name?”

The creature perks, pausing it’s movements and looking at you with its large, red eyes.

“.....I’ve heard humans call me Mothman. I think it is quite accurate.”

You nod, swallowing down another bite of beans. “Do you...like that name?”

The creature doesn’t respond, eyes still piercing into your heart. His face has a small micro-expression, but you’re not sure you can read it. “Because my brother always said first impressions are the perfect time to reinvent yourself, so I could call you something else if you wanted?”

The creature's eyes flicker, in a movement you think is slight shock, before his eyes roll back to the fire. The small light of the fire flatters the dark black of his fur (You think it’s fur?) and only accentuate his large eyes, flashing and reflecting like rubies. In his relaxed position, he sort of looks….handsome.

“You may call me Mothman. Thank you for asking.”

You nod, letting the strumming banjo of a new song on the radio fill the void. The bouncy beat has you unconsciously bobbing your head as you scoop a spoonful.

“I love this song.” You mutter, lamenting how you're almost out of food to stuff your mouth with.

Mothman hums in agreement. “Me as well, this station is my favorite.”

Given your empty bean can, you take the leap into a conversation.

“Do you have a favorite kind of music genre?”

Mothman fiddles with the stem of his apple, brow (if it can even be called that) furrowing.

“I guess I never thought of what my favorite would be. I mostly listen to whatever the radio plays, enjoyable or not. Though,” Mothman points his thumb to the radio, “I love the sound this instrument makes, though I am unsure what it is called. It’s almost like….”

Mothman’s voice begins to make a squeaking trill, one extremely similar to that of plucked strings, although much sharper and shorter.

“Oh, you mean the banjo? Uh, the one that goes like-” You try your best to imitate the chords of the banjo, unconsciously moving your fingers to imitate playing. It’s not nearly as musical as Mothmans’, but his eyes widen and he nods excitedly.

“Yes! Yes, that sound is very pleasant. I’d say any music with that in it is my favorite.”

“Ah, country, that’s a really popular one around here. Have you ever heard ‘Goodbye Earl’ by The Chicks?”

Mothman shakes his head. Your face drops in surprise.

“Oh, it’s so good, it’s about-” As you lean over to give a long spiel about the song, another bolt of pain shoots up your side, forcing you to bite your cheek so as to not cry out. You keel over your legs, clutching your rib cage.

Right, car accident.

In a second, Mothman is next to you, tentatively laying a hand on your shoulder. His fingertips just barely brush your skin, yet you can still feel a slight fuzziness, the same that covers his whole body.

“You might want to see a human doctor, soon.” You suck in through your teeth, slowly adjusting yourself back upwards. “Yeah, yeah, that’s probably a smart idea.

“I can take you as far as the end of the highway, if you’d like to call a friend or a cab.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to stay steady. Mothman’s other hand slowly moves to your other hip, only applying a modicum of pressure.

“May I help you stand up?” He almost-whispers, a hot breath of air blowing across the side of your neck as he speaks. A shiver runs down your spine as his large fingers play gently against your skin, covering a good portion of your pelvis. You’re thankful you can explain away any blush with the pain. You nod once more.

The two of you stand up gingerly, Mothman almost extending to his full height and brushing the blanket-ceiling with his antennae. You take a couple of small steps, the pain in your side taking the occasional moment to sting you.

Your eyes squint as you exit the encampment, sun already fully risen and in your face.

“If at any point you feel uncomfortable or in pain, let me know.”

You turn your head towards Mothman, but before you can ask any questions he sweeps you up in a bridal carry and extends his wings in one motion. From the corner of your eyes you can see dark red patterns that swirl on them, invisible until caught by the sunlight. Your hands instinctively lace around his neck, fingers tucking into the soft fluff of his neck. Mothman gives you a quick nod and what you think is an assuring smile

Without a word, you two take off.

----------

You two fly low to the ground, Mothman expertly maneuvering through the trees and underbrush as he glides along the highway. You’re sure if you were to drive by, he’d look like a flickering shadow in the woods, nothing more.

He sets you down by the edge of town, just out of sight of the semi-busy main street. You basically collapse to your feet, heart pounding with adrenaline and mind wracked with “Holy fuck, I just flew with the goddamn Mothman.”

“This is where I must depart. Do you think you can find suitable transportation to the hospital from here?”

You nod, still trying to wrestle your vocabulary from ‘What the fuck, Holy shit, Oh my god.’

Mothman gives you another smile and comforting nod, patting you on the shoulder.

“Very good. Good luck on your travels. Oh, and try not to be hit by any cars, alright?”

With a playful glare from you, Mothman begins to unfurl his wings and ready himself to fly back into the woods, buut before he can-

“Wait! Uh….” Mothman halts, wings still wide open. Your mouth and mind stagger, not even sure what you wanted to say. “I have some old country cassettes back at my place. If I found my mom’s old WalkMan I could….show them to you? Some time, maybe? Give you a chance to be your own radio DJ?”

Mothman’s face remains relatively neutral, but the way his antennae unfurl and his wings slightly perk upwards betrays his interest. It’s extremely adorable, like a little kid who hears the word ‘ice cream.’

“Yes, I think I would love that.”

“A-Awesome.” You breath out, not realizing how long you had held it in. “Same place, maybe next Saturday? Though hopefully I won’t be thrown in there by a car this time.”

Mothman lets out a series of squeaks, which you assume is his laugh. He gives you a thumbs up. “Cool, it’s a date.”

With the last word, you walk away, still hobbling with your probably-fractured rib, a large smile on your face.

As Mothman flies away, the cold wind of a West Virginia morning blowing across his body, he can’t deny the certain warmth that radiates from his chest.

I have a date.

[ticklishfiend]

Pure Gold (My Hero Academia)

Lee!Mina / Ler!Bakugou ⚠️PLATONIC⚠️

A/N : haven’t posted a fic in a while cause my laptop broke but hey!! i fixed it!! so here we go. i wanna make a sequel to this with the sleepover mentioned at the end, so if ur interested or have any ideas, lemme know!!

Summary: Mina catches Bakugou in a very incriminating circumstance, and of course, records it (cause how could she not). Unfortunately for her, Bakugou doesn’t think this is as funny as she thinks it is, but decides to make her laugh with his own methods anyways.

Word Count: 3084

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED, MWAH <33 xoxo

. . .

Mina rolled onto her right side for what had to be the millionth time tonight, nothing ever feeling comfortable enough to just loll her into the right sleepy headspace she needed to get some goddamn shuteye. She’s never really had many problems with falling asleep before, so why tonight she had to be burdened with this temporary insomnia was beyond her. 

Mina threw her arm out behind her back towards her bedside table, fingers fumbling around for her phone before finding it connected to the charger. Detaching it from it’s plug, she brought it towards her, face flinching at the sudden brightness before her eyes adjusted to the light. She groaned as she scanned over the time, 1:02AM, far later than she would typically still be awake. Sure, it was Friday so she didn’t have any classes to worry about the next day, but it was still frustrating to get off her normal sleeping schedule so suddenly and for seemingly no reason. She had to fix it soon before she pulled an accidental all-nighter.

Whining and groaning the whole way, Mina threw her legs out over the side of her bed, dangling her feet for a moment before slipping them into her cute fuzzy panda slippers she kept on her bedside. The girl figured her best bet for now would be to drink one of the soothing teas that Momo kept lying around in the kitchen for anyone to use. She dragged herself towards the door, allowing her arms to stretch over her head with a yawn before grabbing at the cold metal door handle and slowly creaking open the entrance. 

She was careful to be quiet, turning the handle before shutting the door as to avoid any unnecessary clicks. She’d be damned if she made any of her light-sleeper classmates go through the same sleepless night she was currently going through by waking them up so late in the night. She walked heel to toe through the carpeted hallway, finding her way to the elevator finally and breathing a sigh of relief as the doors closed without a dinging sound.

After what felt like a treacherous journey, she finally made it to the corner that would lead her to both the kitchen and common area. But, before she turned the corner, she saw a light illuminating off the walls coming from the commons. Her brow quirked, not expecting any type of light to be shining from the area.

No worries, she thought. If someone accidentally left a light on I’ll just turn it off real quick so no one gets in trouble, easy peasy! She finally made it around the corner when it finally dawned on her where the light source was coming from in the first place; the TV.

Her eyes met the muted TV that seemed to be playing a...romance anime? The subtitles were on and the volume was completely turned off, so whoever had been watching it was obviously aware of how late it was and was trying to stay quiet for the rest of the class like Mina had been.

The pink girl watched the screen for a moment, reading the subtitles to find that one of the characters had apparently just confessed their love to someone else in some heroic fashion. It was super cute, and she’ll definitely have to look up whatever this is so she can watch it in her own time. Before she could make her way towards the action to turn the TV off, however, she heard...is that…?

...sniffles? 

She paused, her ears perking up at the sound just in case she had imagined it. Then, no more than 3 seconds later, she heard it again. Sniffles, this time accompanied by a little groan of what sounded like endearment. This is so cute, she thought to herself, bringing her hand to her mouth to cover up any giggles that dared to escape. Someone’s crying about a romance anime right now, and it definitely sounded like one of the boys too! There’s no way I can’t find out who this is.

As quietly and sneakily as the acidic girl possibly could, she made her way towards the back of the couch, crouching down just slightly as to not alert them with her shadow. She finally allowed her eyes to peer just above the top of the cushion aaaand…

…

BAKUGOU?!

Mina could hardly believe what she was seeing. Was she complaining? Absolutely not, this was pure gold, it was just surprising! THE Bakugou Katsuki, curled up on the corner of the couch swaddled in a fluffy All Might blanket, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes with an actual smile on his face. He stuffed his mouth with popcorn before wiping his tears with the corner of his printed blanket, muffling a small “Finally,” into the fabric. 

There was no chance in hell Mina was going to miss this golden opportunity.

Like a spy, Mina quickly but quietly snatched her phone from the pocket of her sleep shorts, opening the camera before pressing record. She zoomed in on the romantic scene displayed on the screen, before slowly panning down to the still sniffling Bakugou, the light from the TV bright but his smile even brighter. She hit the off button before stuffing the phone back in her pocket with a grin, quietly making her way towards the kitchen.

She went to take a mug out of one of the top cabinets, purposefully shutting it louder than she needed to to alert the blonde on the sofa. He jumped at the noise, whipping his head around towards the girl before throwing his arm towards the coffee table to snatch the remote and turn the TV off with force.

“Why the fuck are you in here, Pinky?!!” Bakugou whisper-shouted from across the room, and though the light from the TV was now gone, Mina could just tell he had to be blushing from embarrassment. She grinned widely.

“Oh, y’know, couldn’t sleep,” She smirked, not looking Bakugou’s direction while filling her kettle with tap water. “I’m guessing the romantic buildup had to be pretty intense to make THE Lord Explosion Murder shed a few tears, huh?”

Bakugou froze before his body started to shake with anger, launching himself over the back of the couch and lunging towards Mina, grabbing her by the shoulders and digging his fingers into the flesh aggressively. He was seething, his jaw clenched and eyes white with anger, and though Mina was a little shaken up when he initially grabbed her, she couldn’t help but giggle when remembering what she had just seen moments ago.

“I WILL KILL YOU, YOU ALIEN FUCK!” He almost-shouted, and it was obvious he was still cautious of waking anyone up so Mina wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about what she had witnessed. “You keep this shit to yourself, got it?! Cause I’m not scared to fucking kill you!”

“Oh I know that, Blasty,” she smiled up at him, unable to suppress another giggle. “It’s too bad I got your little cry-sesh on camera then, huh?”

Bakugou’s face fell, his eyes wide before he squeezed even tighter into her shoulders. “You...you WHAT?!?!” Mina had meant to let out another laugh at his expense, but it turned into a yelp as she was aggressively hoisted up over his shoulder. 

Mina kicked and laughed, hitting at his back to no avail as he stomped towards the couch and unceremoniously threw her down onto it, pinning her against the cushions, her hands now laying flat underneath his knees that were thrown over her waist.

“Woah, take me out to dinner first!” Mina’s eyes were wide as she let out a nervous chuckle. She tugged at her hands, but they weren’t going anywhere under his weight. She even tried kicking a little against the cushion, but yet again, nothing.

“Not into you like that, Pinky,” He aggressively pointed towards her face, the angry scowl never leaving his now wrinkled expression. “And you’re gonna delete that fucking video, got it?!”

“Are you kidding me?! I could never delete that! It’s gold and you know it!” Mina exasperated, shocked he could even consider that a possibility. 

“NO IT’S FUCKING NOT!” He whisper-shouted into her face, moving his hand even closer to her face until it booped her nose, her eyes crossing down to look at it. “Delete it, Horns...or I’ll fucking make you.”

Mina uncrossed her eyes and looked up to Bakugou, whose face remained angry and undeterred. She sighed, “Ok, first of all, they’re not horns; they’re antennas. Secondly, you were too cute in the video to delete it! I’m sorry, Baku, but I can’t do that.”

Bakugou just grunted, moving both of his hands down now to grip at her waist, making her eyes widen with a sudden knowing fear. “I am NOT cute, and you WILL delete that fucking video, Pink-Fuck! You always give in to this shit,” Bakugou couldn’t help the smirk that rose on his face as he squeezed her sides once, making her jump and yelp.

“Nohoho! Bakugou, please, not thihis!” Mina couldn’t help the giggles that left her lips even if he hadn’t properly done anything yet. It was just the knowing of what was to come that caused nervous laughter to bubble from her chest and into both their ears.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, moron,” Bakugou said, eyeing down at her waist before noticing the phone-sized bulge in her shorts pocket. He smirked, reaching down and pulling it from its hiding spot. He looked at the screen before huffing, turning it to face her eyes. “Gimme the code. Now.”

“No way! You’ll just delete the video!” Mina said before yelping with another jerk as he pinched at her side again. “Dohon’t!” He sat her phone down on the arm of the couch before wiggling both his hands over her belly, the sight alone making her shriek and let out a flow of giggles.

“You’re gonna wanna give me that code, loser,” Bakugou grinned, jerking his hands down towards her stomach without touching her and bringing them back up, making Mina jerk aggressively with another yelp. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already freaking out! This is gonna fucking suck for you if you don’t let me delete that damn video!” 

Mina just pursed her mouth shut tightly, shaking her head “no” while letting little huffs of suppressed laughs escape from her nose. Bakugou just sighed, raising his wiggling fingers just slightly higher before a wide, sadistic grin cemented itself to his face.

“You asked for this.”

Before she had time to retaliate, wiggling fingers came down to pinch up her sides and into the dips of her ribs, sending her into a cackling fit. She kicked uselessly from behind him, tugging at her trapped hands to no avail.

Bakugou used his right hand to dig his fingertips into the bottom of her ribs, while skittering his other nails over her quivering belly. She sucked her stomach in as much as possible, but with each laugh it was brought back up, practically tickling itself on his fingers.

“Bakugohohou! Plehehease! Nohoho!” She squealed, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as he continued his relentless but playful torture.

“No what?” the blonde teased, using his index and middle fingers to vibrate into her tummy. She let out a shriek at that, jerking violently while trying to smush her face into the cushion beside her. “Ohoho, that bad, huh? Pretty effective method if I do say so myself,” Bakugou then used his two fingers on each hand to vibrate into her lower ribs, a spot he knows all too well is absolutely unforgiving. She screamed at this, shaking her head side to side as laughs poured from her gut. “I always get what I want, Pinky, and this isn’t gonna be any fucking different.”

Mina couldn’t help the loud shrieks and squeals that left her body, tossing herself from side to side with no effect whatsoever. “GAHAHAHA! Plehehease! It tickles too muhuhuch!”

“Not my fucking problem,” Bakugou went back to his squeezing method from before, this time bringing one hand down to pinch at her hip. Mina jolted at the touch, screaming and cackling at his relentless squeezing. “The code, moron, lest you forget about what got you here in the first place.”

“Nehehever! I cahahan’t!” she laughed before gasping in a breath of air as his hands let go of her body for a moment. She hesitantly opened one of her eyes to look at her tormentor, who was yet again wiggling his fingers over her tummy. She shut her eyes again tight at the sight, a new bout of giggles leaving her from anticipation. “Nohoho!”

“You can never handle being teased, can ya?” Bakugou grinned, before bringing both his hands back down to lift up her nightshirt up to her bottom ribs.

“No! No no no! Please! Bakugou, let’s talk about this!” Mina spluttered out nervously, opening her eyes to see him just ghosting his fingers over her still quivering belly. She tossed her head back with a giggly whine, kicking her feet behind him like a child in a tantrum.

“Nope. You had your damn chance, and you blew it,” He smirked devilishly, bringing his fingers down to gently skitter over her now bare belly, dissolving her into a fit of high-pitched giggles. “Now you’re gonna get-” BZZZ! BZZZ!

Bakugou paused his previously wiggling fingers, his head whipping up and eyes making contact with the now buzzing phone resting on the arm of the couch. He groaned when he read who was calling on Mina’s FaceTime, resting one hand on his knee while reaching out and swiping the phone from it’s resting spot (though his knees were still pressed firmly against Mina’s trapped hands- he hadn’t yet planned on stopping her torment.)

Bakugou pressed the bright green button on the screen and stared blankly at the dark screen as Denki answered. The boy had obviously been trying to sleep, evident by the fact no lights were on in his room.

“Bakugou?” The boy asked groggily on the other end, and even though Bakugou couldn’t technically see his face, he knew he had to have the dumbest expression printed all over it.

“Yes, what the hell do you want Pikachu?” Bakugou growled at the screen.

“Can you tell Mina to quit screaming? I could tell it’s her, her laughs are always the same; just so fuckin’ loud,” Denki chuckled, and Bakugou could hear his sheets shuffling. “What’s got her laughing so hard anyway? You aren’t exactly the funniest person on the planet.”

“I’M FUCKING HILARIOUS YOU DUNCE!” Bakugou shouted angrily into the phone, gripping it tightly as Mina just prayed he wouldn’t crush it with his pure fiery rage. “And that’s none of your fucking buisness!” Bakugou paused, looking down at Mina who had a sheepish grin on her face. He sighed. “She’ll be quiet now. Just go to sleep so you aren’t dumber tomorrow than you usually are,” Bakugou huffed, hanging up without allowing the blonde on the other end to get any word in. 

The explosive teen threw Mina’s phone down beside her on the couch, hoisting himself off her with a scowl on his face and a roughness to his movements. Mina couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as he jerked his blanket out from under the girl aggressively and began making his way away from the couch. She quickly sat up and snatched his wrist, pulling him back slightly and making the boy grunt, looking back at her with tense brows.

“How about a compromise?” She proposed, a small grin on her face. He looked at her through squinted eyes for a moment, questioning her request. Finally, he rolled his eyes with a huff.

“Hit me with it,” he didn’t look at her in the eyes, but she celebrated internally at the fact he wasn’t too visibly angry at her.

“I’ve got a sleepover tomorrow with all the girls, and we’ve been dying for a special guest,” She bit her lip with a cheek-tearing smirk as his brow somehow managed to furrow even deeper. “Hang out with us for just a few hours tomorrow night; you don’t even have to sleep over, just stay for the fun parts. I’ll delete the video as soon as it’s over.”

He continued to stare at her questioningly, obviously not convinced nor happy with this compromise. She needed to give him more.

“I promise I won’t show a soul the video if you promise to go tomorrow. No one will even know it existed before it’s already gone,” she said, before deciding to finally pull out the big guns. She pouted out her bottom lip and lowered her wide eyes, eyebrows piercing upwards like a sad puppy. “Pleeease Bakugou? I promise it’ll be fun!”

He paused, staring at her sad little face and feeling himself go slightly soft inside while staring at his friend. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and jerked his arm out of the girl’s grasp with a loud groan.

“Fine...as long as this shit stays between us...I guess I’ll go,” Bakugou nearly whispered the last part, as if the words had to crawl their way out of his throat while being tied down from his sheer stubbornness alone. 

Mina couldn't help the shriek of excitement she let out, her mouth quickly getting covered by Bakugou's large calloused hand while his other planted an index finger on his own mouth towards her. “Shut the fuck up Pinky, we already woke Dunce up!” She just smiled behind his hand, nodding up and down quickly.

Bakugou let out a sigh as he moved his hand from her face, using his fingers to squeeze at the bridge of his nose. “You are so fucking annoying, y’know that?”

Mina just giggled, standing up and giving Bakugou a hug so quick he couldn’t pull away from it. He stood in shock for a moment, before shoving her shoulder and making the girl fall back on the couch with an oof! followed by her giggles. He just rolled his eyes with a, “Tch,” throwing his blanket over his shoulder and walking towards the hallways.

“Night, Blasty! Get ready for the night of your life tomorrow!” She whisper-shouted towards the exiting boy, who only flipped her off as his body finally disappeared into the shadows of the shared hallways.

. . .

A/N : hope you enjoyed!! i didn’t rlly proofread this so if it’s terribly written i apologize lmaoo, again if ur interested in a part 2 lemme know!!! much love <3 xoxo

[vortship]

rat-slaughterer​:

His mind is absolutely more than blown, quietly thinking that’s two times the pizza. He would love to try that, some time. Some pizza meats are fake enough for him to get away with eating them. He tried hawaiian pizza once, and the ham only hurt a little!

He listens to her response to him with rapt attention, not having any idea why he shouldn’t tell Zim. Humans are smelly, sure, but they’re also dumb. And not an active threat every waking moment of every second of every day trying to murdalize you while your back is turned. Hopefully. So, not all that bad, all things considered. He also has no idea what a housewife brunch is, voicing that thought when Hal finishes.

Now there’s corn fields outside. Wretched. Vile.

The hat atop Skoodge’s head moves every time the antennae underneath try to extend.

Unable to express himself with his antennae, he raises a brow at Hal. Really? The Tallest? Plural? Sure, they’re the almighty leaders of the entire Irken Empire, and sure, they’re… pretty great, and sure, they’d kill you without a moment’s hesitation given the opportunity, multiple times –

Actually, that’s more than enough reason to be asking about them.

“They’re tall!” He states, simple and obvious. “Not too accepting if you don’t at least reach around their waists.” He holds his hand above his head, palm parallel, reaching around Hal’s height. “They’d punt you outta’va an airlock if they saw you.” For more reason than being a vortian. He’s almost certain they’d made a sport out of it, with how many drones and smallers they’ve thrown out.

“Does –” he begins, but corrects himself.

“Did. Vort. Have leaders? Or, actually, how were they chosen?“ It can’t be a height thing, too, not with how picky-choosey and… well, they’re all around the same height. There’s likely no good way to choose a Tallest when you’d have to pull out a microscope to see the difference between two taller-than-average vortians.

The look on his face, not to mention the antennae threatening to escape from beneath his hat, told her Skoodge hadn’t been expecting her to ask about them. She’d heard rumors, sat in just off-screen as Zim called them. Finn once told her he knew the pair back when they were elites, she could only imagine how they’d ended up in a Vortian gang-member’s orbit; Finn was vague, but she knew it didn’t end well.  

Part of her wondered if they even remembered. If the name ‘Nima’ meant anything at all to them now. With so much to destroy, could they really hold a grudge from so long ago? Who was she kidding? They threw people out of airlocks for less than what she and her family had done.

Purple, evidently, was the more air-lock heavy handed of the two, Red was the public speaker, the clever one. However, they both hated things that weren’t theirs equally. Her curiosity about them stemmed from a genuine distress, a nightmare Hal had time and time again of facing them. Even Skoodge’s jokey comment about them punting her out an airlock sent a slight shiver down her spine, though she managed a sheepish grin in an attempt to mask it. 

Zim and Skoodge would get in trouble too if they knew they were harboring her. 

“I’m taller than you!” she defended with a playful nudge, “I bet I’ll be like, 5′2 and a half pretty soon. Growth spurts and all that.�� where she stood, she was nowhere near it, but a girl could dream, not that height meant half as much to her as it did to an Irken. 

“There’s an election and stuff... there uh- was like, a whole parliament.” she tried to recall all the boring stuff she was taught about government, what little she paid attention too. There was one thing however, Hal did know,

“I was friend’s with a governor’s daughter.” she mused thoughtfully, “Niri wasn’t allowed to do like, anything that would make her family look bad, which I guess is most things I do every day.” Hal shrugged, 

“We had a falling out.” stated simply and mildly for the blowout it really was, she missed Niri, in spite of everything, “Drama...” she sighed, “Hmmmm questions for you. Oh! Were you like, on TV and stuff when you conquered Blorch?”  

[xxiamtiebrousxx]

Midnight Kisses (Vampire! Sniper x Hunter! Reader) Part Two

I opened my eyes, screaming in pain. I dreamt that Mick had attacked me again. It had been a week since he bit me. I managed to close the wound and I hadn’t turned into a vampire. Unfortunately, during the process of sucking my blood, Mick managed to get some of his into my bloodstream. It wouldn’t affect me badly, but we were now connected like soulmates. If he got hurt, I would get hurt.

My big, bulky phone with the antennae began to ring and I answered.

“Hello?” I groggily asked.

“Hey Y/n,” Mike said over the phone. “Have you been able to locate that vampire?” the mayor asked. I stood up from my bed and walked over to the window.

“No, but I’m close,” I replied. “I have some leads on his whereabouts.” I could hear Mike smiling over the phone.

“Good, I hope you can get him killed before my daughter’s birthday in three days,” he said. “Bye bye.” I groaned. There was no way I was going to have Mick killed before her birthday. I walked to the dining area of the hotel I was staying at. People chattered with one another. I grabbed a stack of pancakes from the buffet and orange juice. I sat down near one of the T.V screens. News reporters spoke of the missing women in Teufort. I sighed, setting down the empty glass.

How long did I have until all of Teufort became vampire infested?

I walked back to refill my juice when I saw him. I growled, clenching down hard on my teeth.

Mick was sitting, surrounded by tons of girls. He smiled and laughed, telling jokes, which the ladies laughed at. Tomorrow, all of them would wake up in pain if they stayed. “Move aside, people,” I said, pushing through the crowd of people. I slammed my hands down on the table Mick was sitting at, scaring the vampire and girls. He scoffed, shrugging off the surprise.

“‘Ello luv,” he said. “Long time no see.” I growled again.

“You, me, outside,” I said, turning around. “Now.” Mick looked at his fangirls, then back to me.

“Oi can’t leave now,” he said. “Oi just sat down!”

“You really wanna mess with me?!?” I yelled. He looked at me, surprised.

“Alright, alright,” Mick replied, standing up. He followed me outside to the patio. “What the bloody heck is your problem?” he asked, throwing his arm in the air.

“It’s my job to hunt you down!” I replied. “Mayor Mike hired me to take you down. Since you’re here, I might as well take you down.” I pulled out a silver knife.

“Hold on,” he said, putting up his hands. “You can’t kill me.”

“Why is that?” I asked, pressing the blade against his neck. I caused it to bleed, which in turn affected me. Blood dribbled down our necks.

“That’s why.” I scoffed, removing the knife.

“What do you suggest we do?” I asked, leaning against the wall. Mick chuckled.

“Oi have an idea,” he said. “A deal ya might say.”

“As if I would take it,” I replied. “But if it means breaking our bond, I’m all ears.” 

“This was addressed to you.” Mick pulled out an envelope, which I snatched.

“Greetings, you are cordially invited to Mayor Mike’s daughter’s twentieth birthday party,” I read. “It takes place this Thursday at four o’ clock at the convention center.”

“Wot do you think?” Mick asked. I looked up.

“What do you plan on doing to Diana?” I asked.

“She’s got good, healthy blood,” Mick replied, crossing his arms. “A vamp loike me wants that.” I bit my lip.

“So if I take you as my plus one, you'll get what you want?” I summarized. “What do I get in return?”

“Freedom,” he replied. “We’d benefit from that.” I walked towards the vampire.

“That’s true, but I won’t get the money since I would fail the mission,” I said. “Mike would blame me for the vampirification of his daughter.”

“Ya could heal her in the end,” Mick answered. “And after ya do, I’ll release ya.” I rubbed my chin.

“It’s a deal,” I said.

*>/<*

It was unbelievable that Diana wanted a pool party. I drove Mick and I to the party. Mike had a pool installed behind the convention center because his “sweetie boo boo” wanted it. I sighed. I wore a bathing suit under my shirt. Mick decided to go in his swimming shorts all the way. I forced him to bring  extra clothes, just in case. Mick was staring at me all the way.  It was hard not to blush. When someone is looking at you in a way that’ll make your heart melt, it’s really hard.

“Oi can see ya staring,” he said. I groaned.

“People only stare because it’s kinda uncommon,” I replied. “You stand out because you’re a vampire. They have to be attractive.” 

“Ya know Oi wasn’t always loike this,” he said. “I used to be the best assassin slash snoipah to ever live.”

“You’re still alive,” I added. Mick scoffed. 

“Anyway, come nineteen seventy two, I returned home, in Australia,” he said. “Oi found out that my parents were killed by a vampire, so Oi went after him, thus, the current me.” I rolled my eyes.

“Sorry to hear about your parents,” I said.

“Naw, it’s foine,” Mick said, kicking his feet on my dash. “Oi was able to keep my blood sucking instincts hidden, until Oi “died.” My doctor found out and kept it a secret. After we defeated some crazed woman, Oi took her base in Organ Needle.”

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding?” I asked. “In the mountains?” I made a turn and parked the car in front of the convention center.

“Yup,” Mick replied, getting out. I followed and locked the car. I didn’t bring a present. I just bought clean clothes and my tools. 

“Hey Y/n!” Mayor Mike said. He held his arms out and wide. I didn’t go for the hug.

“Mike,” I said. He smiled, looking at Mick.

“Who’s this? Your boyfriend?” he asked. I blushed. Mick smiled.

“Oi’m their plus one,” Mick answered. “Oi heard the real prize is inside.” Mike laughed.

“Oh Y/n, I love this guy!” he exclaimed. “Also, don’t talk about my daughter that way or else I’ll throw you in jail.”

*>/<*

I sat in the shade as Mick was swarmed with girls, including Diana. The sun was setting and the party was just getting started. I rolled my eyes at his behavior. 

“Y/n, come join us!” Mick exclaimed, waving his hand in the air.

“Yeah, come on!” Diana said. “Don’t be such a sour puss.” 

“I like it over here!” I yelled back. Mick got out of the pool. I groaned, rubbing my head. Mick got out of the pool. I groaned, rubbing my head.

“Seriously, come join us,” he said, grabbing my hand. I pulled back. 

“No way!” I said. “I only came here to get cured,” I spat.

“You do as I say or else,” he growled. I sighed.

“Fine.” 

“Alright then.” Mick put his hands on my hips and hoisted me high. “INCOMING!!!” I yelled as I was thrown into the pool. I resurfaced, spluttering the water out of my mouth.

I wasn’t going to enjoy this.

*>/<*

I came out of the public showers, dressed in my clean clothes. Night had fallen and the lights illuminated the pool. I looked for Mick, but I didn’t see him.

“He must be at the buffet or something,” I said. I checked at the table, but I didn’t see him there. I walked back into the building and looked around.

I looked until I found him.

“Uh, Oi didn’t uh, Oi didn’t expect to see ya here,” Mick said, faltering. Diana, who was already bitten, looked at me surprised. 

Diana and Mick had been kissing in the corner. She had her hands all over him and he had her resting on his lap. I turned red with fury and embarrassment.

“I gotta go,” I said, turning around. I rushed out of the building with tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t fall for this man! Sure he was in my dreams a lot and I couldn’t stop thinking about him and I felt so fluttery around Mick. 

I stopped halfway through the exit.

Fudge.

A/n: Yes there is going to be a part three. I wasn't expecting so many words.

[miraculousluvbug]

WINGLESS | Ch. 5

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: Plagg panics because Lila's the devil incarnate and Lila learns that Gabriel Agreste is far stupider than he seems.

Adrien fondly flicked through the pages of The Pun-thagorean Theorem (Making Math Funny!) textbook. Plumes of dust wafted up his nostrils, causing his eyes to squint and his mouth to contort into the longest face known to man to avoid a hacking fit, but he smiled afterward nonetheless. The book was withered beyond measure, sure, but within its decaying jacket, it held the fleeting whispers of a previous life. A life before his mother went missing. When she enjoyed teaching him math with puns and pieces of candy while his father clung to the confines of closed doors. When her jokes graced the halls and her smiles left behind a fog of golden joy in her wake.

Adrien’s heart thudded with longing.

But he was determined to push back the feelings he had kept buried deep, deep, deep within his heart. So deep that he often forgot they were even there until they reared their ugly heads like a Hydra from the deepest recesses of the sea. Every time he thought he dealt with it, thought he had cut off its head and could breathe for just a second, two heads sprouted in its stead, determined to grip him by the ankles with their jagged teeth and force him to drown in his debilitating lack of self-worth.

He shook his head violently, as if that could shed him of his intrusive thoughts.

Hopefully, this book would help Lila. And then she’d leave. And then he could skip the anime and just take a fat nap. Keeping the Hydra at bay was exhausting.

Correcting his posture, Adrien approached his classmate, noticing straight away she had moved to his desk chair. Odd. But he was willing to roll with it.

Ha. Get it? Desk chair. Roll with it.

He pursed his lips, trying to hold back his laughter at himself.

Kagami had called him a clown, but Ladybug, as it turned out, appreciated his sense of humor. And if Lady-friggin’-bug--Commander of Wit and Creative Mastermind--thought he was funny, he must have been a damn comedic prodigy.

Plagg recognized that love-struck look on Adrien’s face and had to physically restrain himself from making barf noises.

“Are you ready to start, Lila?” Adrien said. Oblivious to Adrien’s whereabouts, Lila started and spun to greet him. (Was he always that quiet on his feet?)

“Adrien! You found the book.”

“Yep! Why don’t you take a look at it before we start?” Adrien smiled as he passed the book to her.

Lila returned the smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Adrien idly wondered if she had ever meant a smile in her life. She pinched the book between her thumb and forefinger as if it were a moldy sock. “Wow, Adrien, this book is so . . .”

A silence lingered as Lila racked her vocabulary for a word less insulting than crusty.

“Old?” Adrien offered, tilting his head.

Lila tittered unenthusiastically. “Yes, old.” She draped the book onto Adrien’s desk and poked at it. “How long have you, um, had it?”

“It’s been in the family a while.” Adrien hesitated. He didn’t really want to mention his mother to Lila. Lila was poisonous. She spun every piece of information she caught into a sticky web of lies like it was second nature. He didn’t know if he could stomach hearing lies about his mother.

So he bit down on the story of his mom before it could tumble from his lips. Even though he so badly wanted to tell anyone who would listen. His father never afforded him the opportunity to speak about her. His friends at school avoided the topic like the plague.

Come to think of it, Marinette was the only one of his friends who tried to help him see her movie that fateful day the press tried to pass her as his girlfriend. (Which he wouldn’t have minded, honestly, but she always seemed hellbent on them being just friends, so he accepted it.)

Ladybug, the other important person in his life, saw his mother on his desktop during that one akuma attack and commented on her smile. Those two girls (er--women? Which term was more respectful?) were the only people he truly felt safe around. Safe enough to turn his back on the Hydra he always kept a watchful, tired eye on and just enjoy the breeze of the ocean as it caressed his cheeks and messed up his perfect hair.

No, the subject of his mother wouldn’t scare them away. They could handle it.

But Lila was no Ladybug, and she definitely was no Marinette.

Behind them, Plagg was practically pulling his antennae out. It had been at least eight, maybe ten minutes since the akuma alert and his kid was none the wiser. And it really didn’t help that he just saw Ladybug and Rena Rouge pass by Adrien’s gigantic glass wall in a blur of red and orange.

But it was hopeless! He couldn’t get the message to Adrien without being seen!

Or . . .

Or could he?

“‘What’s Pythagoras’ favorite instrument?’” Lila read aloud. Her eyes darted over to the blonde leaning against the desk beside her. He bit his lip and his eyes were doing something weird. She had never seen that emotion on him.

“Go on,” Adrien pushed, his eyes practically sparkling. Huh. Was that emotion . . . eagerness?

She cleared her throat and turned the book upside down to read the answer awaiting her at the bottom of the page.

“‘A triangle.’”

Adrien giggled. What he wanted to do was slap his knee and let the whole world know he found it funny with a booming laughter that rivaled Tom Dupain-Cheng’s, but he knew that was un-gentlemanly.

Lila quirked an eyebrow.

Adrien sobered immediately. “You know,” he tried. “Since a triangle is an instrument and the theorem is about right triangles.”

Lila’s stare was unrelenting.

Adrien coughed. “So the triangle is his . . . favorite instrument.”

Lila stared for a bit longer than necessary before letting out a glaringly obvious fake laugh. Adrien was more offended that she thought that laugh was believable than that she didn’t find the pun funny at all. “Ha. That’s, like, so funny, Adrien. I can tell already that this book is going to be a big help.”

Adrien’s shoulders drooped a little. He hadn’t expected her to fall to the ground in ceaseless mirth, but he hadn’t thought her to be such a brick wall either. “Right. Well, why don’t we start with number one? Do you have your notebook or do you need a spare piece of pap--?”

The sound of the television coming to life cut Adrien’s question short. Lila’s eyes bulged out of her head and the sight would have been comical had it not also meant that Plagg was being a nuisance. Again.

But honestly, when was he not?

Lila burst from her seat and sprinted to the television. “Were you standing on the remote or something?” Lila queried, her voice high-pitched and grating to Adrien’s ears.

Adrien scratched the back of his neck. Think, think, think . . .

“Um, my room is haunted?”

Lila gawked at him wordlessly, gripping the back of his sofa. “You posted something about that on Instagram, but I thought you were, I don’t know? Making it up?”

Because you would be an expert on that, right, Lila?

Adrien plucked the remote from the coffee table and pointed it at the television, his thumb barely brushing the power button when the words from the newscaster reached his ears and sent chills down his spine.

“New akuma . . .”

“Ladybug and Rena Rouge on the scene . . .”

“Chat Noir yet to be spotted . . .”

Adrien’s heart skipped a beat. Furrowing his brow, he ran to his phone and ogled its empty notification list. Why hadn’t he received an akuma alert? Was the Ladyblog acting buggy?

Adrien had to come up with an alibi and fast. Lie like the wind, Bullseye.

He scooped up his cherished pun textbook and shepherded Lila to his bedroom door despite her protests. “I’m so sorry, Lila! I, uh, just remembered I have to practice piano for an extra hour today.” The television droned on about the deadly, unstoppable, mind-controlling, threateningly large, new akuma behind him. The hair on Adrien’s neck stood up with every added adjective.

“You’re not seriously sending me out into the city where the akuma is?” Lila exclaimed.

Oh. The thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“Um, sorry, Lila, but I’m sure you’ll be fine! You’re Ladybug’s best friend, right? She’d never let anything happen to you.” Adrien smirked inwardly at that. Lila was failing miserably at hiding her disgust for his spotted partner when he shut the door--politely--in her face.

Quickly, he propped up his phone on the piano and navigated to his voice memo app.

“I deserve extra cheese,” Plagg drawled, hovering to the side of Adrien.

“For nearly exposing yourself to Lila?” Adrien remarked bitterly.

Plagg narrowed his eyes. “No, for figuring out how to get your attention when Lila was clearly undermining you!”

Adrien stopped dead in his tracks. His finger hovered above his latest piano recording while his mind raced. “What do you mean, Plagg? I didn’t get an akuma alert. That’s not her fault.”

Plagg scoffed. “Uh, you did get an akuma alert. That--that menace got rid of it!” Plagg folded his arms across his chest, clearly much angrier than he would ever admit. “She got rid of the notification so you wouldn’t see. Even when she doesn’t know she’s doing it, she’s sabotaging Ladybug! You can’t let her in your room anymore, Adrien.”

Adrien stiffened. So Lila was far worse than he gave her credit for. He wouldn’t underestimate her again. Harmless snooping, he could live with. Interfering with him protecting his lady? Unforgivable. She did that when he was Chat Noir and he thought he had learned his lesson.

Apparently not.

“We’ll talk about this more later, Plagg,” Adrien finally decided. A moment later, the soft melody of a piano piece danced around the room. His eyes wandered to the whiteboard on his wall that had twelve tally marks souring its otherwise pristine surface. Plagg followed his gaze and looked back at his kid with a frown and drooping brows, tail and antennae betraying his melancholy.

Adrien pointedly ignored Plagg’s Pity™ look. “Ladybug’s already cleansed an akuma twelve times without needing my help. Let’s not let there be a thirteenth. Claws out!”

Meanwhile, from the other side of Adrien’s door, Lila simmered, jaw clenched, mouth dry. She didn’t have an inkling why Adrien had concocted such a ridiculous excuse, but she was ninety percent sure it had something to do with Ladybug.

It always came back to that impudent roach.

Lila dragged her feet all the way to the main staircase with every intention to vacate the Agreste premises, but a quick sweep of the mainroom revealed the bodyguard was nowhere to be seen. And interestingly enough, neither was that dreadfully stoic assistant Adrien was so fond of. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen her when she first entered.

Empty. The room was deliciously empty.

And Lila had never seen the inside of Gabriel’s office.

Smirking, she decided she would have to correct that.

Just in case she got caught, Lila inconspicuously flitted around the room in an attempt to appear like she wasn’t on a mission. She fawned over trinkets and leisurely “admired” the boring paintings accosting the walls before her twitching fingers rested on the door handle.

She waited with an ear pressed against the wood. Silence had never tasted sweeter.

The room was . . . well, it left something to be desired.

Wasn’t Gabriel supposed to be a fashion icon?

His interior design made her want to gouge out her eyes with a plastic spork.

Lila gingerly let the door fall into place behind her, the hinges creaking only slightly (a billionaire or whatever he was could afford to professionally oil his door, she assumed) before her feet carried her to a mustard yellow tapestry. The woman adorning it she recognized was Adrien’s mother. The photos of Adrien to her right were all edited from photoshoots. Perfect. Unblemished.

Lila supposed she could overlook Adrien’s pitiful sense of humor. Adrien was still great eye candy, and his reputation made him an even tastier prize.

The scent of cologne and disinfectant mingled, battling each other for dominance and the result was only a bit nauseating. Orange light seeped in from the windows, the tendrils of luminance touching everything in the room but the wall with the tapestry. It was golden hour apparently.

Unable to help herself, Lila brushed her fingers along the edges of Gabriel’s touchscreen, searching, searching. Ah. There. A ridge. A power button, perhaps? With the tip of her fingernail, she pressed it and . . .

Of course, the thing would be password protected.

Maybe Adrien’s birthday?

Wait. Did she even know Adrien’s birthday?

Lila shrugged and turned on her heel. She was curious, but odds were she would never be able to guess Monsieur Agreste’s password. Unless . . .

Slowly pivoting to face the screen again, she tried typing something crazy and, albeit, a little stupid.

There was just no way. It was a waste of time to even try.

She tapped a green enter button.

The waiting screen consisted of the outline of a butterfly slowly being filled in and then repeating. Interesting. She wouldn’t have pegged Gabriel to be a butterfly guy. But if she thought about it really, reeeeally hard, she could just barely recall a few designs Adrien had modeled that sported a butterfly-like logo.

But whatever. This butterfly waiting screen meant nothing. There was still no way.

There was absolutely no way the password to the great fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste’s personal computer was “password.”

Was there?

She idly tapped her nails on the screen, the clack-clack-clack echoing around her in the frustratingly barren room. The anticipation ate away at her until . . .

Bingo. The screen unlocked, and the light shining on Lila transitioned from the black of the waiting screen to the blue of a schematic.

Lila snorted. “Seriously? I’m no Max but even I know that’s the most brainless password known to man.”

Closer inspection led to a fascinating revelation. The schematic wasn’t actually for a building or even a design. There were photos of her classmates and their . . .

Their hero personas? Interesting. Could he have been planning a Superhero line? How did he even find out their identities?

Wow, there was Nino as Carapace and that one girl Kagami as Ryuko. Max as some horse-looking hero she honestly had never seen in her life. Kim as a monkey. Unsurprising. Some guy with blue highlights who she’d only seen around Marinette. And Alya . . . as Rena Rouge.

Lila clenched her fists. Her nails left indentations in her palms.

She didn’t have time to stew over this infuriating morsel of information, however, before the floor beneath her began to tremble. Wasting no time, she sprinted to the middle of the room and was surprised to find the floor now still. Had she imagined the earth quaking?

What sounded like mechanical whirring had her spinning on her heel to face the painting. Her jaw dropped to the floor at the sight of a hole in the previously-unmarred tile. From the dark pit rose one bonafide, Barney-colored supervillain, his back facing her.

“Nooroo, dark wings fall.”

Instantly, a waterfall of purple and white glitter illuminated the room. The light was so intense, Lila had to lift her arms and shield her retinas. Her heart thudded wildly against her ribcage.

Any sane person would have run away at the sight of a supervillain in their classmate’s mansion.

But not Lila.

Lila quite liked Hawk Moth. She more than shared his distaste for the superhero duo and was overjoyed whenever he graced her with the opportunity to fight them as an akuma.

She was even more overjoyed to find out her boss and Hawk Moth were not just cut from the same cloth . . .

They were the same cloth.

The man otherwise known as Gabriel Agreste stood before her, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

His shoulders were hunched up to his ears as he grumbled, “Blasted children. I’ll get your Miraculous one of these days--”

“Um, Master?” a tiny voice interrupted.

Lila had never seen such a thing. Was that a bug? A fairy?

“What is it, Nooroo?”

Upon Nooroo’s silence, Gabriel turned around and was incapable of hiding the shock on his face when he found Lila Rossi trespassing in his office.

“How much did you see?” he demanded, scowling.

Lila tittered behind her hand. “Even if I hadn’t seen everything, Hawk Moth, I’d still be asking you what on Earth that thing is.” She jabbed a manicured finger at Nooroo.

Upon seeing his computer on and unlocked, Gabriel lifted his chin and sneered at the fifteen year old girl who had evidently outsmarted him.

Understanding, Lila shook her head. “You really are a boomer,” she mused. “‘Password’ is the least intelligent password you could have picked.”

“I thought it was clever, Master,” Nooroo meekly added.

Desperate to get control of the situation, Gabriel folded his hands behind his back and stood until he was at his full height. “So now you know.” He dared not move from higher ground. “I can’t imagine you thought it’d be smart to confront an adult man who’s shown he has nothing to lose.”

Lila raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have, like, a son?”

Gabriel’s gaze was unrelenting.

Lila almost pitied the oblivious blonde boy. “Whatever. I just wanted to snoop around your office. I couldn’t have possibly dreamed a juicier secret. Paris’s beloved and esteemed fashion designer doubling as its masked terrorist?”

Gabriel bristled.

Feigning nonchalance, Lila perched upon one of Gabriel’s long purple benches and crossed one leg over the other before leaning an elbow on her knee and resting her cheek in her palm. Mischief twinkled in her eyes. “Scandalous.”

“I could make your life a living hell, young lady,” Gabriel began, but Lila held up a hand, halting him in his tracks.

“No need to get defensive, Monsieur. You have nothing to fear from me.” Lila stood then and crossed the room to stand on equal footing with Gabriel. While the top of her head was far beneath the man she addressed, her confidence made her a formidable contender. She leaned forward and peered up at him. “In fact, I want to help.”

Gabriel’s fingers twitched. He knew she liked getting akumatized, but this was unexpected. His initial reaction was to shut it down. This should have never happened. He had to ensure her silence but keep her far from involved.

His curiosity, however, got the better of him. He was a businessman at heart, after all.

“Help how?” he pressed.

Lila smiled crookedly.

Hook.

“You’ve akumatized me before and we’ve caused great chaos together.” Lila fiddled with one of her foxtails as she circled Gabriel. “Can you imagine if we actually strategized an akuma?”

“Are you implying my previous akuma were unplanned?”

Line.

“Not at all!” Lila mended, already sensing that Gabriel’s pride was a sore spot. “But you catch your victims when they’re unhinged, laden with their own emotions. How many times has an akuma put their own needs before yours?”

Lila turned her back on Gabriel then and moseyed toward the benches once more. She let her hand trail along the fabric of the cushions, waiting for him to take the bait . . .

“I’m listening.”

Sinker.

“What if your akuma’s goals were aligned with yours? Everything would be calculated. Predisposed. And--” Lila couldn’t prevent the smile from bleeding into her voice “--I’ve never had a sentimonster assist me before.” Lila stopped moving but remained facing the window. The sun was nearly set now.

Heels clacked against the tile. Approaching. Lila steeled herself.

“I don’t suppose you’ll join my assistant and I out in the gardens, Mademoiselle Rossi?”

Lila grinned from ear to ear. Oh, she could just imagine the taste of Ladybug’s fear when she loomed over her, fingers pinching her earrings and just ripping them from her lobes. Would the joy blooming in her heart be overwhelming, like a banana overpowering the flavors in a smoothie? Or would it slide down her throat like her mother’s hot chocolate? Rich, creamy, satisfying, and scalding all at the same time . . . but faintly nipping at her vocal cords from the traces of cinnamon?

Was it unbecoming to hope Ladybug’s ears would bleed?

“I would love to.”

Unbecoming or not, it was her greatest desire, from both the deepest and shallowest crevices of her soul.

-----

I just released Chapter 7 over on AO3, so if you're itching for more, go check it out here and leave me some love in the comments. Comments are jet fuel for my creativity 🥰 Follow me for updates and check out my Instagram where I post art!

(5/?) Previous | Next

[imthepunchlord]

Beewitched Ch 3

Two, Four

Two days. 

Two days he prowled the night, seeking out the fairy, visiting a variety of gardens just in case that’s where she’d appear. But nothing. No yellow to see in the night. By the third night, he was debating giving up, until a voice spoke behind, sounding amused, wary, and curious. 

“You’re a really odd sight, you know that?” 

He turned, finding that the fairy he’s been seeking was sitting behind him on a chimney, peering down at him with bright blue eyes, little hues of gold shining in her eyes, gleaming against the yellow and black mask she wore. Eyes widening, he took her in, making sure he wasn’t imagining her. She wore a yellow and black stripes leotard, with a black blazer with yellow stripes near the end set over it. She had a high ponytail, though it was think and round, looking like a stinger with yellow stripes against the dark hair. In the London light, he could see two ribbons sticking up around the strap around the ponytail, looking like antennas. 

“You’re the fairy,” he breathed. 

She blinked in surprise at the comment, then cracked a grin, chuckling at it. “Yeah, I guess I could be counted as a fairy.” She dropped down from her perch, revealing she was shorter than he expected, barely reaching his chin. Looking up at him with lovely eyes, she playfully asked, “What are you then, curious boy on a random roof?”

“Seeking you out,” he admitted. “I’ve been curious since I saw you in the garden.” 

She looked surprised, then in a rush of flustered energy, she proclaimed, “You saw?!” 

He raised a brow at it, his smile growing. Of all things, he didn’t expect a fairy to be like this. It was… cute. The endearment grew as she pouted cutely for a moment, then shook it off. “Oh well, it's not like I’ll be here long.” 

“You’re not?” he repeated, his curiosity burning inside of him. 

She shook head, moving to seat herself on the roof, staring out at London’s cityscape. “I’m simply here for a small vacation. Another few days and I’ll be going back.” 

Well aware he couldn’t exactly find out where “back” was, he instead asked, taking a seat beside her, “What brought you here then?” 

“A witch.” 

She looked surprised how quickly and easily the answer came, and frowning to herself, she considered things for a moment before she told him more, her tone careful. “A witch came to my domain, and is working on causing me trouble. Isolating me from my friends, and adding more to my already big plate of responsibility.” She sagged next to him, looking defeated. “So I came to London, just… to have a short break, at least. I can’t stay away for long from my duties, but I’m allowed a break.” 

In an odd moment for him, Felix felt his heart go out to her. She looked so tired, defeated. That spark of life she had before had dimmed. She looked like she was barely holding it together, and that this break she was on wasn’t enough. 

Nodding to her, he asked, “Why not just take care of this witch?”

She cracked a dry smile. “Oh, I’d love to sting her. But, that’s just a temporary solution. And my… a sweet prince wouldn’t appreciate it.” She shook her head. “He’s too kind for his own good.” 

“Why should he have a say,” he wondered, “this witch sounds to be more your problem than his.” 

She didn’t have an answer for him, just staring at the cityscape, looking like she was elsewhere. Felix chose to let her be with her thoughts, his eyes roaming her profile, far too intrigued to turn his gaze away. 

She became aware of his gaze, those blue eyes turning back to him and offering him a small smile. “Thank you,” she murmured. 

“For what?”

“Listening.”

Felix wondered how much it really helped since she still seemed so tired, looking like she was going to go back to a war soon. She stood, offering him a hand, the moonlight making her look ethereal over him. “Shall I escort you home?” she offered. 

He took her hand, feeling the warmth of it through the black glove she wore. With ease she pulled him to his feet, awaiting his answer. “I’d rather not reveal my home,” he admitted. “But a quick escort to the streets below would be appreciated.” 

“Pardon for the closeness,” she warned, wrapping an arm around his torso. He caught the scene of flowers, tea, and cookies as she pulled him close against his small frame. With little warning, they dropped, his heart racing up in throat in alarm. But she threw a small item out, and she smoothly swung them down to the streets below. 

“Sorry,” she giggled, peering up at his wind blown hair. 

He gave her a dry glance, fixing it. Her warm smile fell as she peered at him strictly, a far different demeanor from before. 

“Do not come out at night to find me again,” she said, the strict order clear in her tone. “This will be my last appearance, and I will not reappear again. In just another day or two, I’ll be going back home.”

He noted how heavy the word home to be off her lips. 

She offered him one last smile, teasingly declaring, “It was nice meet you, curious boy.” She threw her small item out, and was off into the night, disappearing from sight. 

And with her departure, so many questions left in her wake. Felix really wondered if this is the last time he’d see her. 

[thelastspeecher]

Stan Falls in Love With a Frog

We started talking about a new Scenario in the Discord, and it’s been making me very happy, especially since the Scenario takes place in a Mystery Trio-style AU, and I’m a big fan of the Mystery Trio AU.  So, I whipped this up earlier.  Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

              Stan sat on the edge of the dock, looking out over the water of Lake Gravity Falls.  In the fading light, mist curled above the lake surface.  He sighed and reeled his fishing line back in.

              Dammit.  I shoulda got here earlier if I wanted to catch anything.  Stan wasn’t opposed to night fishing in general, but he was opposed to it in Gravity Falls.  He had seen in person some of the weird things that came out when it got dark.  Something surfaced in the lake, breaking the thin layer of fog.  Speaking of…  Stan idly watched it swim.  Wonder what kinda spookum this one is.  The creature pulled itself out of the lake and onto a large rock.  Stan’s jaw dropped.  That’s a chick!

              It was rapidly getting darker, so he couldn’t make out many fine details.  But the creature looked eerily like a human woman.  With the exception of elongated, webbed feet and ears, what looked like a pair of antennae, and mottled skin.  She pushed back her short hair with hands that also seemed to be webbed.

              What the hell is that?  Stan leaned, squinting, trying to get a better look. The movement knocked his tacklebox into the lake.

              “Shit!” he swore.  The woman looked over.  Her eyes, glowing a soft blue, widened.  She dove back into the lake.  Stan sighed. “Great.”  He got to his feet and trudged back to the Stanleymobile. Before he got in, he glanced back at the lake.  The water was as smooth as glass.

              It was like the woman had never been there.

-----

              Stan returned to Lake Gravity Falls the next morning at the break of dawn.  Normally, he wouldn’t wake up so early just to go fishing, but Ford and Fiddlenerd had a full day of traipsing around in the forest planned.  If he wanted to actually have enough time to catch something, he needed to fish before, not after.

              If Fiddlenerd’s weird little sister wasn’t visiting, this wouldn’t be a problem.  Stan sat down at the edge of the dock and opened the tacklebox he’d “borrowed” from Fiddlenerd.  But Fiddlenerd wants someone with actual muscles to be there to protect her from whatever’s in the woods today.  There was a loud thunk to his left.  Stan looked over.  He gaped. The tacklebox he’d dropped in the lake yesterday sat next to him.

              “What the hell?”  Stan opened the tacklebox to inspect its contents.  It was soaked through, which made sense, given it had been at the bottom of the lake the night before.  But other than his fresh bait, nothing was missing.  “How did-”  There was a soft splash.  Stan looked up.  A creature was in front of him.

              It’s that one lady from yesterday.  She was mostly submerged, with only her eyes and the crown of her head above the water.  Her hair was a black that, like her light green skin, blended in with the lake. She looks sorta like a frog.

              “You brought me my tacklebox,” Stan said.  The frog woman nodded.  “Why?”  She hesitated, then sunk underwater.  Stan waited for a few minutes to see if she would come back up.  When she didn’t return, he sighed and began to set things up to fish.

              The missing bait makes sense now.  Of course a frog would eat all my worms.

-----

              “It’s about time!”

              “Yeah, yeah, nice to see you too,” Stan groused, pushing past Ford and into the house.  He’d spent more time than he meant to fishing.  Naturally, the moment he came back home, Ford got on his case.

              “We were supposed to leave an hour ago! Today’s plans are completely ruined!” Ford said.  Stan rolled his eyes.

              “Walking around in the woods isn’t something that takes all day, Poindexter.”

              “The specific location Fiddleford and I were going to take his sister to is quite some distance away.”

              “It’s fine, Stanford,” said the aforementioned sister of Fiddlenerd.  She was laying on the living room couch, reading a guidebook on amphibians of the Pacific Northwest.  “I was hopin’ to check out some of the cute places in town, anyways.”  She smiled at Ford.  “The forest can wait fer tomorrow.”

              “I- but-” Ford started.

              “Before you short-circuit, Sixer, I’ve got a question,” Stan interrupted.  Ford glared at him.  “So, I saw this frog-lady at the lake-”

              “Frog-lady?” Ford scoffed.  Out of the corner of his eye, Stan saw Fiddlenerd’s sister still. “Are you mocking me?”

              “What?  No!  I thought you liked weird shit.  I mean, you came up here to study it and dragged me along to be your muscle.”

              “I like magical creatures, Stanley,” Ford said, crossing his arms.  “Not regular humans who have features you might think resemble an amphibian.”

              “She wasn’t a regular human!”

              “There are no humanoid amphibious creatures around here,” Ford said firmly.  “There is, however, a woman in town who was born with webbing between her fingers and couldn’t afford the surgery to get it removed.  I think it’s rather cruel of you to make fun of her.”

              “No, I wasn’t-”  Stan sighed.  “Whatever.”

              “Go upstairs and change,” Ford instructed.  “You smell of fish.”

              “Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Doesn’t Shower For a Week,” Stan muttered.  Fiddlenerd’s sister snickered softly.  He began to walk upstairs.  “At least someone around here’s got a sense of humor.”

-----

              Though he had returned to the lake at dusk that day, Stan hadn’t seen the frog-lady.  He came back the next morning at dawn, hoping to spot her again.  As he sat at the end of the dock, he found himself dozing off, lulled into sleep by the early hour and peaceful surroundings.  He was jolted back to wakefulness by a splash nearby.

              “You came back,” a voice said.  Stan looked up.  It was the frog-lady.  Her head was now fully emerged from the water.  She looked at him with intelligent blue eyes.  Though her face was one shade of pale green, the rest of her head was mottled with darker greens.  Her nose was thin and flat, evidently nonhuman.

              “Well, yeah,” Stan said with a shrug.  He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.  “I’ve gotta thank you for giving me back my stuff.”

              “It’s yours.  Why would I keep it?” the frog-lady asked.  Her voice was lilting and musical, sounding almost like raindrops hitting leaves.  And yet, there was something about it that seemed familiar.  Like he’d heard her talk before.

              “I dunno.  ‘Cause you could?”

              “Heh.”  The frog-lady smiled.  “I don’t really have a need for human things.”

              “What are you?” Stan blurted out.  The frog-lady froze.  “Wait, shit, was that racist of me or something?”  The frog-lady nodded silently.  “I take it back.”  He cleared his throat.  “My name’s Stan.  What’s yours?”

              I don’t wanna scare her off.  She might be a frog, but she’s pretty cute.

              “…Rana,” the frog-lady said after a moment.

              “That’s pretty.”

              “Thanks.”  Rana chewed on her lip for a moment.  “Why do you want to talk to me?”

              “What do you mean?”

              “I know what your brother does.”  Rana’s eyes bored into Stan.  “I know he likes to study critters like me, with or without their consent.  Are you collecting data for him?”

              “Please.”  Stan waved a hand airily.  “Even if he and Fiddlenerd were both in full-body casts, he wouldn’t want me to collect data for him.”  Rana managed a small smile.  “He’d probably hire some weirdo from town to do it instead.”  Rana snickered softly.  Like her voice, it sounded familiar.  A car engine roared to life, the sound echoing across the lake.  Stan looked over.  Someone had pulled into the parking lot.  He looked back at Rana.

              She was gone, only a few ripples remaining on the surface where she’d been.

-----

              Stan paced in the living room.  It had been a week since he learned Rana’s name, and many more meetings with her at dawn.  And to his shock, he was beginning to fall for her.

              Sure, she’s not human.  Sure, she hasn’t come out of the water all the way yet.  But she’s nice and funny and teases me when I say something racist against frogs.  Stan smiled fondly, remembering how he had brought her worms yesterday, only for her to throw them at him.  I like a lady who doesn’t take any shit.  He frowned. She doesn’t like worms…what does she like?  I’ve gotta impress her if I’m gonna make a move on her.  She gets spooked so easily.

              “Stanley,” Fiddlenerd said wearily.  Stan stopped.  He looked over at the card table in the corner, where Fiddlenerd was working on some sort of machine.  “Yer goin’ to wear a hole in the wood if ya don’t stop pacin’!”

              “Nah, let him keep goin’,” Fiddlenerd’s sister said. Once again, she was on the couch reading a book about amphibians.  “Maybe he’ll pick up the pace and start a fire.”  She smirked at Stan, who merely rolled his eyes in response.

              “What are you still doing here?” he asked. Fiddlenerd’s sister shrugged.

              “I like it here.  I’ll stay until Fidds kicks me out.”

              “So, you’re never gonna leave,” Stan said flatly. Fiddlenerd’s sister snorted in amusement.  Stan sighed. He looked back at Fiddlenerd.  “Do you know anything about frogs?”  Bringing up frogs to Ford only resulted in him scolding Stan, no matter how Stan phrased his questions.  Fiddlenerd shook his head.

              “No.  But Angie does.”

              “Who’s Angie?”

              “Wh-”  Fiddlenerd set down his wrench, staring at Stan.  “My sister!” Stan looked at Fiddlenerd’s sister, apparently named Angie.  She waved at him cheerfully.  “She’s been here fer over a week and ya haven’t even learned her name yet?”

              “It didn’t come up,” Stan said with a shrug. Ignoring Fiddlenerd’s sputtering, he sat down next to Angie.  “So. Your name is Angie.”

              “Yes.  It is.”

              “It’s a lot more normal than Fiddlenerd’s name,” Stan remarked.  Fiddlenerd let out a squawk of protest.  Angie sighed.

              “Spit it out.  What do ya want?”

              “Do you know about frogs?”

              “I certainly hope I do, since my doctorate is in herpetology,” Angie said tartly.  Stan frowned at her.  “The study of reptiles and amphibians.”

              “Ah.  Okay.” Stan scooted a bit closer.  His nose picked up on a faint pondwater smell coming from Angie.  She eyed him warily.  “What do frogs like?”

              “What do-”  Angie stared at him.  “What?”

              “You heard me.  What do frogs like?”

              “I mean, it depends on the frog.”  Angie rubbed the back of her neck.  “What do ya need to know this for?”

              “There’s this frog-lady that I met-”

              “Oh, pish posh,” Angie scoffed.  “I’ve heard ‘bout yer frog-lady from Stanford.  He says that she don’t exist.”

              “And you’re just gonna believe him?”

              “I ain’t an expert in the wildlife ‘round here. Stanford is.  I don’t really have a choice but to take him at his word.”

              “Where’s that famous herpetology skepticism?” Stan asked.  Angie rolled her eyes and got up, setting her book on the nearby end table.

              “I’m goin’ fer a walk,” she said.  “If I see any frog-ladies, I’ll let ya know.”

              Great.  She was my best shot at advice for Rana.  I mean, she knows frogs and she’s a woman!  Stan’s eyes landed on Angie’s book.  Hmm…  He picked it up.  There was a bookmark.  He thumbed to the bookmarked page.  It was the beginning of a chapter on a specific genus called Rana.  Huh.

              “That’s weird,” Stan muttered out loud.

              “What?” Fiddlenerd asked.

              “None of your business,” Stan shot at him. Fiddlenerd rolled his eyes and went back to working on his machine.

              My frog-lady has the same name as a kind of frog. Makes sense.  Stan looked over at Angie, who was putting her shoes on by the front door.  But why was Angie looking up that kind of frog?

-----

              Rana giggled at Stan’s latest terrible joke. Stan beamed.

              “Glad you’ve got a sense of humor,” he said. Rana smiled.  Car tires crunched on gravel.  Stan didn’t have to look to know that it was the arrival of the early fishermen.  After two weeks talking to Rana, he’d developed a routine.  He would sit at the edge of the dock and wait for her to emerge, then the two would chat until the first fishermen showed up.  Stan sighed.  “Same time tomorrow?” he asked Rana.  Rana nodded. She dipped underwater.

              Stan got up and made his way down the dock, ignoring the fishermen who clearly thought he was insane to be at the lake so early for no apparent reason.  He walked over to where he normally parked the Stanleymobile, only to remember he’d parked by the edge of the forest that day.

              “Great decision-making, past Stan,” he mumbled idly. “Parking where the gnomes could bite through your brake lines again.”  He went to the Stanleymobile.  Before he opened the door, however, he heard a large splash and leaves rustling nearby. A voice swore softly.

              That sounded like Rana.  Stan tucked his car keys back into his pocket and went into the woods, following the sound of Rana’s voice.  He arrived at a small clearing at the edge of the lake.  Rana had pulled herself onto shore.  Stan stared at her.  It was the first time he was seeing below her neck up close; he’d only seen her full body once before, back when he knocked his tacklebox into the lake.  Her front was the same pale green as her face, with darker greens mottling around her sides and back.  The texture of her skin looked soft and slimy.  Despite her hourglass figure, she was fairly flat-chested.

              I mean.  She is a frog.  Why would she have boobs?  Rana pulled herself up into a seated position, leaning against a tree trunk.  Stan stared at her long, flipper-like feet.  No wonder she swims so fast.  Suddenly, her feet began to shrink.  Stan’s eyes widened, watching Rana’s flippers change to pale, human feet.  His eyes widened further as he realized that her feet weren’t the only thing changing. Before his eyes, Rana was transforming from a frog-lady into a naked human woman.  One that Stan recognized.

              Rana got up and grabbed a pile of clothing from behind the tree, mumbling to herself.  A twig snapped under Stan’s foot.  Rana’s head shot up.  She stared at Stan in horror.

              “Stan?!” she squeaked.  Stan swallowed.

              Damn, her nose gets flat when she’s a frog.

              “Hey, Angie.”

[p-artsypants]

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (7)

Till Then

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Well, it’s spooky season! You know what that means? OH BOY SPOOKFEST!!!

FF.net | Ao3 

--

This investigation was not going well. 

First of all, she hadn’t attended the funeral. Perhaps she should have, to keep up appearances, but she couldn’t stomach sitting through the service while knowing there were no bodies in the caskets. 

It was wrong. 

She gave poor excuses to Alya and Nino, and skipped it. Maybe if she had gone, she could have learned more, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t stand it. 

Later that evening, Ladybug made a visit to the cemetery where the family crypt was. She allowed Tikki to do the actual investigating. She phased into the dirt of the freshly buried, unmarked grave, and concurred, it was the same coffin from before, with only sandbags inside. 

Gabriel’s too, over at the crypt. 

“Not much else to glean from this place,” Tikki said sadly. “Where to next?” 

“Actually,” Marinette wondered. “I have a hunch. Could you check Emilie’s casket too? She’s been dead for a while, so I apologize if what you see is…awful.” 

“I’ve seen worse. I’ll take a look!” 

Marinette waited anxiously, biting into her thumb nail. She really hoped she was wrong. Really really hoped. 

Tikki reappeared, her brow furrowed in concern. “You’re hunch was right. Emilie’s is just sandbags too.” 

She groaned, dread bleeding into her bones. “Damn it.”

“Maybe they’re all together?” 

“At this point, I don’t know if I should even hope for that. Emilie has been gone for years. Wherever she is…I doubt we’ll ever find her, let alone Adrien and Plagg.” 

“We’re not giving up though, right?”

“Of course not!” 

Marinette knew she had a chance of answers at the funeral home. The director knew more than he was letting on, but she had asked too many questions as Marinette, and going in to interrogate him as Ladybug would probably put her identity in jeopardy. She’d have to think on that one, and try to find a way around it. 

Now for the ‘basement’.

Till then, my darling, please wait for me

Till then, no matter when it will be

Someday I know I'll be back again

Please wait till then

Since Felix had confirmed that the Mansion didn’t have a basement, she assumed the office building did. Nowhere else did Gabriel or Adrien spend a significant amount of time. 

While the workers were still on their vacation, she went in. There was still a secretary, though she was dressed in casual clothes, and the doors were closed to the public. 

“Hi Miss Dupain-Cheng. Working today?”

“Um, something like that. Organizing some stuff.” 

“Alright, well, let me know if you need anything. I’m just here to tell clients that we’re off for a while.”

Marinette smiled. “Thank you. Um...perhaps, do you know if there’s a basement?”

“Basement? Uh...there might be one. I’m not sure. The main elevator doesn’t go there.”

“Alright. I’ll look around then,” she smiled patiently and bid the woman adieu. 

The building was unsettling without anyone in it. Half the lights were turned down, and the only sounds were the hum of the air conditioning and her footsteps echoing in the dim hallways. 

Several years ago, when she had first started, she was given a tour. A tour that seemed so unimportant then, she was scraping for now. There was a back staircase, in case of fire. That much she could remember. 

The big iron door slammed shut behind her as she entered the stairs. There was a door with an Exit sign over it, the outside world on the other side. A set of stairs went up and around, to every floor above. 

But there was one more door. Labelled with a big ‘SS’ for ‘Sous-sol’. 

‘Basement’, in French.   

“Tikki! I found it!” She said to her purse. 

“Great job! Let’s get to the bottom of things!” 

Marinette screwed up her lips. “Pun intended?”

“In memory of Chat Noir, yes.” 

“That is what he would have said, isn’t it? God, I miss him so much.” But she decided not to mourn her best friend in the dank, spider-infested stairwell. 

Of course, the door was locked. 

“Nothing is ever simple, is it? I wonder who would have the key. Janitor? Maybe Gabriel has a set in his old office.” 

“Aren’t you forgetting your ultimate skeleton key?” Tikki asked. 

“...um, yes, apparently.” 

Tikki flew from the purse, and phased through the door handle. It clicked a moment later, and the handle turned. 

“Wow, you’re convenient. Remind me to ask for favors in breaking and entering more often.” 

“Anything for you, Marinette!” 

She felt along the wall, found a lightswitch, and turned it on. Deep below, a few scant lights flickered to life. 

And in the columns of flickering light stood silhouetted figures. Still, waiting. 

Marinette held her breath, afraid she had been caught. 

“Tikki…” She readied herself to transform the moment they moved. She was still in the dark, they wouldn’t have seen her. 

Seconds ticked on. They stood, never flinching, never so much as breathing. 

“Oh my god, they’re mannequins,” she breathed. “I mean, duh but holy shit that was terrifying.” 

She descended the stairs, one at a time, still being quiet, and keeping her eyes glued to the forms. 

They didn’t move, because they were plastic, and as she drew closer to them, she realized how fake they were. 

They weren’t even good mannequins. The paint was chipping and the proportions looked odd. 

“These go in shop windows, right?” Asked Tikki. “I’ve seen a few from your purse.” 

“That’s right. These look really old. I’m surprised they haven’t been recycled.” 

“Is this what Adrien wanted you to see?”

“I doubt it. What would mannequins have to do with anything?”

Tikki shrugged too, and looked around.     

It was the worst three hours of her life. 

But because Adrien had used what was presumably his dying words to tell her to look here, she scoped that place out thoroughly. She named all the mannequins, to try to take the edge off. It didn’t really help, but it made ‘James’ the eerily realistic mannequin that stood in the shadows a little more friendly instead of a murderer in waiting. 

There was nothing there except old clothes, rejected materials, and a whole lot of new friends that Marinette never wanted to see again. 

As Marinette pushed aside the 9th box filled with 70’s paisley shirts, she sighed. “I think...I think I’m looking in the wrong place.” 

“I agree,” Tikki said, her antenna drooping. “I think we should have found something by now, right?” 

“I couldn’t even find any inspiration down here.” 

In the corner of her eye, she saw something, and turned quickly. 

“What?” Said Tikki wearily, already knowing what was wrong. 

“Another freaking mannequin! I swear they’re moving when I’m not looking at them!” 

“They can’t do that.” 

“I know that, but my eyes are tired and my heart is on the edge, and coffee isn’t working on my brain anymore!” 

“I think we should leave then. Maybe try looking at the mansion again. Maybe there’s a basement that Felix didn’t know about.”

At that moment, her phone chirped with a message from Nathalie. 

Please don’t forget, tomorrow, despite it being Saturday, your presence is required at the Agreste Manor. Gabriel’s Last Will and Testament will be reviewed, and you have been named. Since Mr. Agreste is so famous, we have asked all beneficiaries to attend. Sunday, you have off.

“Well, looks like I have an excuse to go back to the mansion after all. Probably should get in there and explore quickly. I have no idea what’s going to happen to it in the wake of...well, you know.” 

“Someone is probably going to inherit it. Probably Felix now. He seemed rather friendly at the funeral. He might let you snoop.”

“Friendly?” 

“More than usual, at least. But who knows how long that will last.” 

“If I have to show my cards to investigate, I will. If Ladybug has to break in, I will. I’m not going down in silence.”

 Our dreams will live though we are apart

Our love I know we'll keep in our hearts

Till then, when all the world will be free

Please wait for me

True to form, she arrived the next day at the mansion. 

As she came into the parlor, where many people were gathered, Felix caught her eye. He jerked his head, gesturing for her to come sit by him. 

As she sat, she looked at the others gathered. She recognized Nathalie, of course, Amelie and Felix, and Mayor Bourgeois. There were a few other people she didn’t know. One she had seen at the company, but she couldn’t remember his name right now. 

“So,” she asked softly. “Is the lawyer going to read the Will out?” 

Felix scoffed. “They don’t do that anymore. We’re just all going to get a copy, and the lawyer will be here if we have questions. Normally, I’m pretty sure they mail it, but I heard that the Will is sealed so they wanted us to get it in person.” 

“Sealed?” 

“Meaning no one else can read it. Last Wills and Testaments are public records after death. Unless they are sealed.” 

“Uh. I didn’t know any of that. This is my first time being in a Will. Well, I think my dad has one, but he’s still alive.” 

“Good for you.” 

“That is—I mean—I wasn’t trying to—“ 

“Just shut up, Dupain-Cheng.” He chuckled. “You are so sensitive.” 

She just childishly stuck her tongue out at him. 

A moment later, Nathalie and a white haired gentleman arrived. 

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming. This is Dr. Nathaniel Grey, the Agreste family lawyer and executor of their estate. Now, everyone listed in the Will will receive a copy. Each copy has the same content, but for convenience, I have highlighted your name.” And she started to hand out the packets, calling out names as she did so.

Some of the strangers had the last name ‘Agreste’ so they had to have been related to Gabriel. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

Marinette held out her hand to receive the thick white envelope. 

“Oh Felix!” Amelie cooed. “Emilie left you her corvette! She loved that car, I know she’d be proud for you to have it.” 

“I’ve seen it. Beautiful classic car. I’m honored.” As much of an ass as he was, Felix sounded genuine in that sentiment. 

To not seem too eager, Marinette carefully opened the envelope. As she did, she tried to imagine what he would have left her. A share in the company maybe? Maybe a family sewing machine? Nothing much, surely.

She unfurled the sheet and wow that was a lot of pink. 

“What the hell?” Felix gasped, looking over her shoulder. He glanced back at his page, and frowned in confusion. “No offense Marinette, but what the hell?”

“I…I don’t even know…” She glanced over the assets willed to her. 

Gabriel left her the mansion.

Up until that moment, she had forgotten she was supposed to be looking for a new place after Nino and Alya got married. She had mentioned it to Gabriel once, off-handed, and he seemed to not really care. 

But if he left the house to her, could he have cared more than she thought? 

The mansion wasn’t the only thing he left to her, either. He left his share of the company stocks, as well as trusts and bonds. Marinette had become a multi-millionaire. 

“What’s the meaning of this, Dr. Grey!?” A woman shouted. 

The shout drew all attention to her. She was a rail thin, tall woman, with high cheek bones and blonde-white hair tied up in a bun. 

“What seems to be the problem, Madam Laurent?”

“I was left a small fraction of stock and my mother’s ashes, but this—this half breed harlot gets the entire estate!?” 

Marinette flinched, feeling guilty and wholly undeserving of Mr. Agreste’s gift. 

Thankfully, Nathalie of all people came to her aid. “Miss Dupain-Cheng has been working tirelessly and closely with Gabriel to continue his brand. She’s been named head designer for his company, and everything left to her is to help in that endeavor.”

As she and Felix looked over the list of gifts, she wondered how true that was. 

“But I’m his sister!” Said Madam Laurent. “I take precedence over her!”

“Not with a will, you don’t.” Dr. Grey explained. “Children are the only protected heirs in French law. The rest of his estate is his to do with as he pleases.” 

Marinette looked back at all the pink highlights. She began to wonder if they served a purpose in distracting everyone from the obvious. 

Adrien wasn’t on there. Not once. 

Although there are oceans we must cross

And mountains that we must climb

I know every gain must have a loss,

So pray that our loss is nothing but time

He couldn’t be disinherited from the Will, not under French law. And yet he was missing…like the Will had been drawn up with the knowledge that Adrien wouldn’t be alive once it was valid. 

Pale and shaking, Marinette turned to look at Felix. 

“Don’t let her get to you, Kid,” he nudged her, taking her appearance for still being put off by the woman. “Gabriel’s family has always been lower middle class, before he became famous. She probably just wanted a bunch of money…whereas most of it was my Aunt’s and it was returned to our family. Does that make sense?”

Marinette shook her head, and then whispered. “Adrien isn’t here.” 

He gave her a soft smile. “Yeah, I know. He’s gone, Marinette.” 

“No!” She shouted, then hushed herself as the others turned to look. “No, I mean…he’s not here.” She pointed at the Will.

Felix grew pale too, and poured over the Will himself. “No way…how…but—maybe it was an assumption. Maybe it was assumed that Adrien was going to inherit half anyway, so he made the Will in case something happened?” 

“Dr. Grey,” Marinette stood and walked to him. “How old is this version of the Will?” 

Nathalie gave her a sharp look, but didn’t comment. 

“Well, a little over a week, actually. Gabriel called me and asked to make some changes.” 

“And why isn’t his son in here?” She asked, darkly. 

Dr. Grey screwed up his lips. “You know, I don’t know. I told Mr. Agreste what the law was, and he said, ‘just write it up as if Adrien didn’t exist.’ I wonder if he knew what their fate was going to be.” 

Marinette tried not to cry. She really did, but she just clenched the document to her chest and sobbed. 

“Now now, my dear. Don’t be so blue.”

“Adrien isn’t a murderer! He can’t be!” 

“Does it really matter anymore?” The lawyer asked. “The truth of their demise will not be released publicly. Only a handful of people will know. I doubt anyone outside of this room, in fact.” He said it so casually, like nothing was wrong. 

“Didn’t you find it suspicious?” She demanded. 

“No,” said Dr. Grey. “You would be surprised at how many clients have second versions of Wills without a child in it. Whether it’s because they’re hoping something will happen, or they see their child going down a dangerous road. Or perhaps the child is terminally ill and the parent doubts they will survive longer than them. Regardless of the reason, I choose to not ask questions.” 

Marinette wished he had. 

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

“Now, did you see the conditions?”

“What?” She sniffed. 

“Here,” Dr. Grey pointed to an asterisk at the end of the mansion item. “This states that there’s a condition applied, and the condition will be on the backside.” 

Marinette wiped her face and turned the paper over. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng must reside within the mansion for ten years. Within that time, she may not redecorate or refurnish any room except for the ‘pink room’. Guests, spouses, and children are welcomed to join her, as long as she is the primary resident. If she is to go on vacation or an extended business trip, the house must be vacant, save for those who would keep it from disrepair. If Miss Dupain-Cheng fails to comply, the house, and all that is in it, must be demolished. It cannot be sold or gifted to anyone until the ten year mark passes.” 

Marinette just continued to stare. “I…that’s…really specific.” 

“More specific than I suggested, but it’s what Mr. Agreste wanted.” 

With a calm expression, but a heart in turmoil, Marinette folded her copy up. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Grey. If you’ll excuse me, I need a minute alone.” She took her copy and quickly walked across the lobby to her office. 

There, on her desk, was a vase with a bouquet of roses. She hadn’t been in here since before the funeral, but they looked fresh. No card though. 

She set the roses to the side, and unfurled the Will once again, laying it flat on the desktop. She poured over every item, not just Willed to her, but to everyone. 

Indeed, there was no sign of Adrien, but also no sign of his property. Did he have his own Will somewhere else?

There was the curious case of Nathalie, who was in the Will, but received only money and trusts. Not an inch of material property, despite her closeness to Gabriel after all these years. 

What did she know? What had she seen? Truthfully, Marinette was too afraid to ask. 

Tomorrow, she would visit City Hall and get the records of the mansion. Hopefully, there were some blueprints in there, and the hidden basement would be found.

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

[thiswasinevitableid]

77. a prophecy said that we’ll save the world together but I’ll be damned if I enjoy your company while we do because you insulted my best friend the first time we met

Ot4, sfw, please!

Here you go! I'm very pleased with this one

The drive hasn’t changed. The road into Kepler goes under the same covered bridges and winds up the same hills it always has. Even the views from driveway to the October House are the same one’s he watched through back windows with rising delight. He’d hoped to get here when the fall colors were still crisp and bright, but they droop from the branches like mourners from the weight of the grey rain.

No one batted an eye when he said he was moving North on Joe’s invitation; Joseph Stern inherited the ancestral home in Vermont, with its sprawling grounds and stately decay. It would make sense that he’d ask the friend who spent so many summers with him there to take up the role of groundskeeper.

Duck pulls his truck into the carport next to a languishing Chrysler Imperial. He runs his finger over the black curves, raindrops plinking on the tin roof as he wonders whether he could coax Joe into taking him for a ride.

He leaves his bags in the car for now. Letting his friend know he’s here is the top priority.

The house is just as tall and mismatched as he remembers, turrets and wide windows mixed with sloping eaves and a sun room. It’s patchwork quilt character extends to it’s color; some walls are red, others goldenrod, and the door is bright as a ripe pumpkin.

Joe christened it the October House the first summer he and Duck visited there. Joseph’s aunt, a proud spinster, suggested his transplant parents send him to the family farm for a few months of growth. When Joe showed his characteristic skepticism about spending his summer alone in Vermont, she offered to let him bring a friend. He chose Duck every year.

The October House was the last thing they spoke about the night before Duck left for basic training (and, soon after, Normandy). Joe was already slipping off the map, recruited for secret purposes by men who valued his intelligence over his humanity. He told Duck to remember the summer they were thirteen, to remember he was brave.

It wasn’t Duck Newton’s first war, but it was for damn sure his last.

He opens the door with the tarnished key Joe sent him. Anywhere else, he’d call out to find his host. But he knows where he’ll be.

One flight of creaking stairs, a left turn down the hallway of faded photos, a right into the room with the mural of Noah’s Ark on the wall, and there he is. Black hair slicked back, blue silk robe covering old scars and new, and eyes that are bluer still turning to take him in.

That’s Joe alright; immaculate even in his madness.

“You’re here.” He stands, dazzling smile reflecting the firelight.

“Told you I’d come. Can’t leave you here to get buried alive in books.” He opens his arms, unsure even as he commits to the movement. Joe hesitates, then steps across crumpled maps of stars and seas to hug him.

“I missed you.” He whispers. Duck doesn’t mention that Joe was the one to disappear once the war was over. They had one night in Huntington celebrating the boys who made it home; Joe’s smile stayed painted on the whole time, but Duck couldn’t get him alone to ask why. Then he fled north and didn’t respond to letters.

“Missed you too, Joe.” He peers over the taller man’s shoulder, takes in the mural and all the materials on the floor. Duck steps from the hug, paper crunching under his boots as he goes to trace the door of the ark, “you’re tryin to go back.”

“I want proof Sylvain was real. I, I want to see it again, to know we didn’t dream it.”

“Got a scar on belly that says we didn’t.” Duck turns, slips his hands into his pockets, “why are you really tryin to go back? They told us we couldn’t, said that if we came home the gate would shut for good.”

Joe doesn’t answer right away, runs his fingers over the badgers and bears fleeing the flood, “Do you ever wish we’d stayed?”

Duck thinks about bloody sand. Then about Jane getting married. His folks celebrating their twentieth anniversary.

“No. Christ, Joe, we were thirteen. It was fucked up to ask us to. Who the fuck asks two kids to rule a kingdom?”

A weak laugh, “and people say I’m the smart one.”

“You are.” Duck touches his shoulder, “now c’mon, smart guy, you don’t show me where my room is, I’m takin yours.”

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

“You sure this is the spot?” Barclay keeps a close eye on the gathering darkness for any bursts of sickly white.

“Yes. The maps align with the stories that they emerged near “a stone like that of a broken heart.” Indrid draws hurriedly in the dirt with his claws, his lower hands uncorking bottles as he does, “come closer, if this catalyzes before I expect, I do not want you to be left behind.”

Barclay sets a hand on his shoulder. Feels his feathers shudder as he inhales.

“It’s time. I, if this does not work, I am sorry.”

He bends, kisses Indrid between his antenna, “I trust you, little moth.”

Indrid hums as amber light fills the clearing, and then everything he knows and loves dissolves into heat and empty air.

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

It's the same static, the rush of heat like wind in a wildfire. The hairs on Duck’s arm snap to attention as Joe leaps from his chair. The door on the ark shimmers and glows with alien majesty. Then two figures fall face-first on the floor and the light is gone.

“Are you alright?” Joe bends to help the first, feathered shape but it stands in a flurry of down, the hairy figure following suit.

“Yesyes, we are fine.” The feathery one looks like a massive moth with some human features.

“Oh.” Joe grins, “I’ve never seen a Sylph like you before. This, this is incredible.”

“You know what we are?” The other asks hopefully.

“We do. We, I’m, I’m Joseph Stern, and this is Duck Newton-”

“Thank the stars.” The mothman bends one knee, his friend doing the same, “yes, we are humble emissaries of the kingdom of Sylvain. We have searched for months to find our way to you. You, who prophecy says will aid us, return and take your rightful place as kings, and save our home once more.”

“No. Nuh-uh, not a fuckin chance.” Duck steps back, spots conflict in Joe’s eyes.

“What do you mean?” The mothman stands, “you, the prophecy, my visions showed you-”

“Then they showed fuckin wrong. I just got my life into some kind of order, I’m not letting you and some giant fuckin ape-thing drag me into another mess.”

Red eyes narrow, “Do not speak of Barclay that way.”

“I’ll speak about him however I damn well please because this is my house!”

“Technically, it’s my house.” Joe sighs, “But Duck is right. We almost died saving Sylvain once before. As, as much as I miss it, I’m not sure I can go back if it means risking our lives again. I was sort of hoping for a middle ground between being stuck here and a near-death adventure.”

“Please-” Barclay steps towards Joe.

“Hey, he said no, so fuck off.” Duck growls. The Sylph growls back.

“Buddy, do you have any idea how much we risked to get here? How much energy Indrid just used to open the gate. Oh, and, by the way, without the stuff we came here for we can’t go home. We’ll be stuck here.”

“Then you shoulda had a back-up plan instead of assumin you could just say a few fancy words and get us to go back. Oughta get some brains to go with the brawn there, big fella.”

“Enough” Indrid hisses, glaring at Duck. “I do not care if you are a chosen one, nothing gives you the right to speak to him, or to me, so callously. We came to you, you who are--if I did not make it clear--our last hope, and you respond with cruelty. I ought to teach you manners, but I will restrain myself.”

“Like to see you try.” He turns to where Joe is carding a hand through his hair, expression lost, “it’s your place, so you decide how we get rid of ‘em. But I’m done here.” With that, he stomps down the stairs, already suspecting Joe will let the Sylphs stay. When it becomes clear that’s the plan, Duck heads into the garden to work and stays there until all the lights are off.

It’s just after midnight when he wakes from a dream, slicing at the air while weak cries die on his tongue. He sits up, then goes gravestone still as the door opens. Indrid’s eyes are warning lights in the dark hall.

“Are you hurt? It did not seem fair to leave your calls unanswered.”

“No. Just had a, uh, a bad dream.”

The Sylph steps through the door, turning on the small, standing lamp, “It is strange to be the only one not waking in terror for once. Well, I suppose Barclay doesn’t.”

Duck tosses off the blanket, “Fuck, is Joe-”

“He is fine now. Barclay was up looking at cookbooks when he started screaming and went to him. Your friend did not wish to wake you, but was so shaken Barclay offered to stay with him.” A little smile, “he is very comforting. Soft, too.”

“You’re sure he was just dreamin? Not sick or anythin?”

“Positive. He was yelling in some other language.” Indrid fiddles with the knick-knacks on a shelf.

Duck runs a hand across his face, “Probably German.”

Indrid cocks his head.

“He had to learn it when he was a, uh, a spy in the last war. The one here. He...he got caught, I only know that because everyone talked about how miraculous it was that he escaped. Joe never talks about it.”

“One can imagine why.” Indrid murmurs.

“Then ‘one’ can probably imagine why I don’t want either of us near a goddamn battlefield.” Duck snaps.

“Is...oh dear, you think that is what we’re asking of you? Nono, we came here for help in preventing a war, one that may destroy both our worlds.”

“You coulda led with that, y’know?”

“I suppose. I, I am, or was, the court seer. But as the evil spread across our kingdom, it disrupted my powers. Now they’re gone entirely. It’s as if I am navigating the woods with no compass and no stars.” His antenna droop. Duck turns the chair near his bed in invitation. The Sylph moves quietly across the worn boards, “The last vision I received before they disappeared was of you two helping us; I saw a new timeline of futures, bright and hopeful, unfurl before it was gone. When you said you would not help us, it was like ripping my wings from my body mid-flight. That is why I was angry. Well, that and how you spoke to Barclay.”

“Sorry about that.” Duck scratches the back of his neck, “I just...when y’all showed up, all I could think about was bein back in the middle of a fight. Of, of seein Joe die.”

“I am sorry too. I did not know you had suffered such things.” Indrid picks at the blanket with chipped claws, “I cannot promise there would not be danger if you aid us. But I give you my word that you shall hear no more of it from me. I only wish for you to accept this quest if you wish to.”

“Thanks. That already puts you ahead of the last time.”

Indrid hums, then peers at Duck’s arm where a tattoo peeks from his shirt, “What is that?”

Duck rolls up his sleeve to reveal the pine tree, “got it because it helped me think of home.”

“Yes but how? To wear art on one’s skin, that is amazing. Do you think they could do it on mine?” He holds out his upper right arm. Duck runs a finger up it, thinking of the polished cherrywood on the table downstairs.

“Might be tricky. You need skin for it to work.”

“Blast.” Wings flutter once, “do you have more I may see?”

Duck unbuttons his shirt as Indrid scoots closer; if he’s not going to sleep tonight, at the very least he can make someone happy.

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

“Gotta say, y’all bein’ here is doin’ wonders for him.” Duck hands Barclay a glass of water as he joins him on the porch. Joseph and Indrid are sitting on a sunny path of lawn, Indrid showing the human his wings and explaining them in detail so he can make notes.

“Seems to go both ways. Indrid hasn’t been this animated since we left to find you two. He’s even more talkative.”

“Joe’s always been good at that. He can get anyone talkin, and can make almost anythin sound interestin.”

Barclay sneaks a glance at the human; he’s much friendlier these last two weeks, but his protectiveness of Joseph hasn’t waned.

“I wouldn’t say him cheering up is all on us. From what he told me, the week you got here made him feel like his cares were washing away.”

“Really?”

Barclay nods.

Duck sips his water, rubs the condensation with his thumb, “In, uh, in Sylvain, am I rememberin right that men could marry men? Ain’t always easy to tell when there’s so many kinds of beings runnin’ around.”

“Why wouldn’t that be okay? Some kinds of Sylphs, like Indrid’s, don’t even have things like men and women. I mean, when they offered you and Joseph a chance to rule as kings, the records make it sound like the two of you would have gotten married.”

Duck chokes on his water, splutters as Barclay pats his back, “I, fuck, I’d never, we’d never, I, fuck, definitely never ever didn’t think about it.”

Barclay lets the horrible excuse for a lie slide, “It’s a way bigger deal that Indrid chose me for this; being a seer makes him noble and I’m just a cook. Going off into the wild with me? Trusting me? Thought some of the ministers were gonna faint.”

“Was it just you helpin him or are you two, uh, y’know?”

“Yeah, I do. Can you blame me? Look at him” he gestures to where Indrid is spreading his wings so Joseph can study them. Stars would he like to go down there and hold the human tight while he taught him how to make Indrid purr.

“He really is somethin.” By the look on his face, Duck wants to do the same thing, just in reverse. After a moment, he murmurs, “the night before we were supposed to face the Red Devourer Joe and I were in the tent by the battlefield. Curled back to front, my arms around him and I could feel his heart beating hard as mine. Shoulda been thinkin about strategy, or prayin, or somethin’ like that, but all I could think was that I oughta kiss him, just in case we didn’t survive. But I didn’t. There were chances after that. I never took ‘em.”

“It’s not too late.”

“If you found out Indrid wanted to kiss you for years and was too chicken to, even when he thought he was gonna die, would you really let him?”

Barclay thinks of claws in his fur, of Indrid huddled against him and chirping softly when Barclay asked to kiss him.

“Of course I would.”

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

“How long until the summer?” Indrid tosses the wool scarf Duck lent him over one wing.

“Months. Y’all got here in October, which means we ain’t even into the worst of the winter yet.”

An annoyed chirr, “We need more blankets.”

“Get you more when we’re in town tomorrow, fluffball. Hah, here’s some.” Duck kneels to cut some surviving leaves from a wild yarrow. They’re out in the woods because Indrid is running low on his feather oil, which keeps him from being miserable and itchy. He described what it did and let Duck smell some (it’s a bit like aloe and vanilla) so the human could reverse engineer what earth plants might do the trick.

Duck brushes off his pants, looks around, “Huh, we made it to the Maples. Joe’s aunt said she never got much from ‘em, but I don’t think she ever really tried.”

“What is special about them?”

“It’s how you get maple syrup. It’s in these trees.” Duck smirks, remembering Indrid licking the dregs from the bottle at the house with his long, long tongue.

Crunch

He whirls to his left, finds Indrid with both rows of teeth sunk into a maple branch. He giggles, then guffaws as the Sylph pulls off with an indignant chirp.

“You, you gotta, hee, you gotta tap the trunk, n-hee” he doubles over as Indrid bites the same branch while drumming his claws on the trunk, “not quite, need some other tools.”

“Perhaps lead with that?” Indrid grumbles, wiping bark from his face.

“S-sorry just, just didn’t expect you to go to town on it like that, heee”

Indrid grins, “It was worth it to hear you laugh like this.”

God, when was the last time he laughed this hard? The thought sobers him, his joy faltering like a bird in a storm. Then he cackles as four spindly arms hoist him into the air.

“ACKhey, put me down fluffball! Ahhno thatheee, that tickles.” He laughs louder as Indrid holds him to his chest and rubs his fuzzy face against his neck.

“I thought that might do the trick” Indrid purrs, nuzzles his cheek, “no more despair, Duck Newton. Not today.”

Duck turns his face so they’re eye to eye, pine green to ruby red, “Deal.”

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

“I found everything on the list.” Joseph crumples the note paper and tosses it away as Barclay gleefully unpacks the shopping bags.

“This is so fucking great, I can’t wait for you guys to try this, and Indrid is going to lose his mind when he sees what I made. This dessert is his favorite.” He tucks the heavy cream and pears into the fridge.

“I’m excited to try it. We definitely didn’t eat any tarts when we were in Sylvain. The badgers who hid us from the red mist were, I think, pretty poor.”

“Yeah, the borderlands were bad off in those days. I was just a kid too but I remember digging out roots to try and make some kind of soup.” The Sylph turns those endearing brown eyes on him, “up for being my kitchen assistant again?”

“Always.” Joseph tucks a dishcloth into his belt. He’s very proud of himself for finding earth equivalents to all the ingredients Barclay needed to make a fall dinner from home. Having the Sylphs living with them means he goes into Kepler more often for groceries or goods to fix up the house. Everyone in town thinks his childhood friend is a good influence, getting him out of the stuffy confines of the October House.

They’re not wrong. When Joseph saw Duck in the doorway, a little world-worn but just as kind, just as practical as he always was, he decided that if the other man didn’t want to return to Sylvain, Joseph would set the project aside. He’d focus on the world he was in, because with Duck there he might yet find things to marvel at, things to discover that weren’t mired in the mundanity of human evil. They’d make the October House into a home, live out their days as bachelors.

Then Barclay had come through, auburn-furred and so gentle Joseph wanted to make like butter in the sun and melt. And Indrid, magnificent and vulnerable (and very infatuated with Duck). When Duck announced he’d help them look for clues to stopping the war, Joseph felt buried bits of his mind rising to the light of the new challenge.

After dinner, they take a pot of coffee into the living room. Indrid is delighted by records, is already putting one on as Barclay puts wood on the fire. The seer lays on the rug, head in his lovers lap and purring low.

Love me like there's no tomorrow

kiss me like it's goin' out of style

“You know, I wonder how one dances to this. It is not fast, but the rhythm is not like the formal dances at court.”

“Here, I’ll show you.” Duck stands, offering Joseph his hand. Lord, he’s pictured this so many times but still has to coax his own hand to move, “Joe, you’re leadin.”

He settles his hand on Duck’s hip and holds the other, concentrates on swaying them to the beat.

Hold me like you're afraid I might get away

Love like I've been gone for quite a while

“You can come closer, Joe. I ain’t gonna bite. Not in front of company.”

“I’m holding you to that.” He presses closer, prays for Duck to rest his head on his shoulder.

Take and wrap me in the package

my future my presence and my past

And love me like there's no tomorrow

and each day might be our last

“Dearest, I am rather tired from that lovely meal you made. Shall we retire?”

“Good thinking, little moth.”

Love me like there's no tomorrow

Make each night one more remembered

we will let the heaven be our guide

“Seems they didn’t need much of a demonstration.”

“Not sure that was Indrid’s endgame.”

Just love me like there's no tomorrow

and keep me right by your side

Joseph tips his head down, whispering, “What was?”

Keep me right by your side

“Duck?”

In the crackle of silence between songs, Duck brings their lips together. Joseph forgoes their stance and pulls him against him, their hearts magnets that were finally turned the right way. Then his feet stumble on the rug, Duck pushing him back with a ferocity he didn’t know he possessed.

Joseph drops into the chair, Duck pouncing before as he breathes. Joseph growls, the hunger that’s been chained threatening to crack his chest from the inside, and nips Duck’s lower lip.

“I said no bitin.”

“You said you wouldn’t bite.”

“You're right, darlin’” Duck cups his cheek as Joseph grips his thighs, “I’m gonna do so much more than bite.”

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

It never gets easier, waking from these dreams steeped in shame, fear, and sweat. Except this time someone’s arms are around him.

“I’m right here Joe, we’re here, we’re safe.”

“Very safe.” Indrid stands behind Barclay in the doorway, “another dream?’

“Yes. I, um, I-” he reaches for Barclay without meaning to, is ready to apologize when the Sylph slides into bed beside him.

“Is this okay?” It’s directed at both the humans.

“Yes.”

“Uh huh.”

Barclay adjusts so Joseph can hide his face in his chest. He should ask Indrid if he wants to be on the bed as well, the poor Sylph might think he’s not wanted-

“C’mon fluffball, my back is gettin cold.”

A delighted chirp and then a wing, black with a grey and red eyespot, drapes across him and Duck.

“Mmmmmm, I knew you would be lovely to hold.”

“Aim to please, sugar.”

“What happens now?” Barclay murmurs.

“My vote is we all get some sleep and work out the particulars in the mornin’.”

“Seconded” Joseph mumbles.

“We will need a good night’s rest; tomorrow I make the disguises for myself and Barclay so that we may begin our wider search.”

“Hope you guys like them.”

Joseph squeezes Barclay, smiling as Duck wiggles closer and Indrid’s wing grows heavier, “We’ll love them no matter what, big guy.”

[syndianites]

A Queen Serves and Protects

Chapter Four

First Chapter –> Last Chapter –> Current –> Next Chapter Summary:

Post-Style Queen, Pre-Queen Wasp.

Chloe finds the Bee Miraculous, but instead of finding an obliging, subservient Kwami, she finds the Kwami of Order and Subjugation, and Pollen is not about to let herself be used like Nooroo was.

Granted, the only danger in a teenage girl is the damage she poses to herself. Can Pollen shape Chloe into a hero? Or will she stubbornly refuse to change and remain the bitter, harsh person the city has long since known?

[My take on how Chloe’s character could have developed] ——————————————————————————————

Jean-Jacques had been part of Chloe’s life since she was a young girl. Despite her tenacious desire to be more like her mother- who the staff of the hotel whispered less than kind things about- Jean-Jacques found her to be quite endearing. He helped raise her, after all.

And though he had many misgivings about Audrey Bourgeois, it still hurt him to see Chloe distraught about her. Of course, as with all matters attending to Chloe, he was the one meant to break the bad news.

At precisely 9’o’clock in the morning he was given the news that Audrey would be leaving for New York once more. Did this surprise him? No. Would it devastate Chloe? Most likely.

So he could be forgiven for taking his time going to wake Chloe. In some hopeful, foolish part of his mind, he wondered if the extra bit of sleep would give her the clarity to see her mother simply could not care less about her.

But, as he knocked on her suite door- receiving no answer- he knew better than to expect such a thing. Instead he entered the suite, moving to Chloe’s bedroom.

Chloe was sleeping peacefully, light snuffles coming from her as her mouth hung open. If Jean-Jacque had paid just a bit more attention to the room he may have seen a flash of yellow disappear beneath the duvet Chloe had haphazardly tossed around in her sleep. As it stood, he looked at his charge for a minute before heaving a sigh.

This was never an easy task.

With a gentle hand, Jean-Jacque shook Chloe by the shoulder. She mumbled something, throwing an arm out over her face and digging into her pillow. Jean-Jacque couldn’t stop a fond smile from growing. She still acted like the little kid he was put in charge of sometimes.

“Madam, it is time to wake up,” Jean-Jacque spoke softly.

He received a groan in response. Instead of getting up she rolled over, blonde hair turning into a bigger mess of tangles as she moved. He shook his head. Chloe didn’t have much time to wait, so it seemed he would have to pull out the big guns.

Gently, he grabbed the edges of her duvet and pulled it up to her chin. She sighed comfortably. Ah, how peaceful she looked. Then he yanked the duvet down with a flick of his wrists.

“Nooooo,” a tired grumble came from Chloe.

She flailed in the bed, looking for her covers. In her little tussle she kicked a yellow stuffie she had under her duvet. Jean-Jacque looked down at it curiously.

It was mostly yellow, with black markings. From the antennae and stinger, he assumed it must be a bee. How interesting! The little plushie was soft and warm from what he could feel through his gloves. Giving it a pleasant smile, he placed it down on Chloe’s end table.

Giving Chloe’s shoulder a firmer shake, Jean-Jacque tried to call her from sleep. “Madam, your mother is leaving back to New York today. If you don’t get up soon you will miss seeing her before she leaves.”

This worked.

Chloe flung herself into a sitting position. “What!? What do you mean she is leaving!”

Before he could explain, she shoved her way out of bed and dashed to her closet. She took out a silken night-robe to cover her yellow-plaid pajama bottoms and white tank top before striding determinedly out of her room.

Ah, he hadn’t had the chance to tell her where Audrey would be. He cringed as he thought of the poor staff she would interrogate to find out. With a sigh, he turned to make Chloe’s bed for her.

In his worry, he failed to notice that the little “plushie” was gone from where he placed it.

///////////

Chloe was not a morning person. When given the chance she would gladly get her beauty sleep. So why was she running around the hotel on a weekend day this early in the morning?

Her mother was trying to leave without saying goodbye.

She grit her teeth. Her mother was just busy packing, surely. Being such a renowned fashion critic her schedule must be packed. She probably didn’t even have time to say goodbye to her father!

As Chloe strutted through the front lobby, weaving between hotel occupants finding their way to their free breakfast the staff provided, she assured herself she wasn’t too late. Her mother was all about style, after all, and what was more fabulous than being fashionably late?

When she reached the banister, Chloe’s eyes zeroed in on her mother ordering around some of the staff, having them move her bags about. Her father was standing by her side, slightly hunched inward.

‘Ah,’ Chloe grit her teeth. ‘He must have seen her trying to leave.’

Chloe rushed down the steps, deftly moving between patrons in her rush. Her father saw her coming first, brightening up at her arrival.

“Princess! There you are. I was worried Jean-Jacque would be too late in telling you your mother was departing.” He smiled at her, leaning down to kiss her head as she pulled up next to him.

She paid him no mind.

Her mother didn’t bother to spare her a glance. “Ah, Chlorine, how nice of you to show up. I was just telling your father that I was to be returning to New York. I have no other business to attend to here.”

Chloe’s heart sunk. Of course her mother had to go already. It was foolish to hope that she would stick around longer. After all, she was busy!

Yeah, busy.

“I wanted to make sure I could say goodbye, mother,” Chloe said. “Before you left.”

Waving a hand in her direction, her mother shrugged her off. “How kind. I’ll let you two know when I’m coming back again. Please make sure to keep things running smoothly here, Andre. I would hate to return to a mess of a hotel.”

Biting back a frown, Chloe dutifully listened to her mother chatter about her plans. Apparently, Paris was not as quick to the draw in the fashion industry as New York was. This year, in any case. With all the akuma attacks designers and major brands had taken to avoiding the city. Which made sense, of course. 

The only thing that really brought her mother back, according to her, was Gabriel Agreste and a few other top designers that still lived in Paris. Despite the constant threat, there was a good handful of people content with the fact that Chat Noir and Ladybug could handle the dangers akuma posed.

Her mother, however, did not care.

“If those two so-called ‘heroes’ can’t even have a decent wardrobe, how can I expect them to keep this place safe?” Her mother huffed. “After all, they didn’t stop Carina here from turning evil and betraying her mother. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that.” The last sentence was emphasised with a head tilt and glance in her direction.

Chloe’s stomach churned uncomfortably.

“They are simply not good enough to keep me here. Perhaps if they could lay waste to Mothman faster I would stay.” Her mother, of course, hadn’t been around that much regardless. Not that Chloe or her father would say anything about that.

As her father helped herd the staff towards the awaiting limo, Chloe watched her mother walk away from her. Again.

This time, she didn’t stay with her mother until the last minute. Instead she turned back towards the lobby once her parents left the hotel. Despite how much she wanted to see her mother, the words she spoke to her yesterday rang in her head.

She didn’t want a repeat of those words today. Especially when she was still in her night clothes.

So she rode the elevator back up to her suite, all the while trying not to think about her mother. About how she wanted to take Marinette to New York with her. How she probably would.

Chloe furiously scrubbed her face with her hands. Enough was enough! She would not think about Dupain-Cheng until Monday when school came back around. If she was still there then clearly she was too foolish or unworthy to go with her mother to New York. If she wasn’t…

Well, that would be one less loser to worry about.

When she returned to her room Jean-Jacque was nowhere in sight. Her bed, however, was neatly made. She flopped onto her chaise. Now she was painfully awake far too early in the morning on a Saturday of all days.

“Your mother is certainly a character.”

Chloe jumped at the voice. Sitting up straight and turning around, she watched Pollen lazily float over to sit next to her on the backrest. They frowned at each other.

“She just doesn’t have time for those below her,” Chloe replied.

Pollen raised an eyebrow. “Below her? Why would any of the people who work for your family be below her, never mind the guests that stay at the hotel.”

Chloe threw her hands up. “Because they are commoners! At least, the staff is. The hotel guests are people paying to stay at our luxury hotel. And my mother? She is the Queen of Style. Her word can make or break a brand, or trend, or anything to do with fashion. Compared to the rest of the people in this building she is a god.”

Bringing a paw up to hide her laugh, Pollen shook her head. “So she’s above others because she makes her opinions known and others take them to heart? Interesting. I suppose I have been asleep for a while if that’s how things go nowadays.”

“Okay, no, not anyone can do that. But my mother worked from the ground up to get to her position. She crafted her empire through determination and wit! There’s nothing unexceptional about that.”

“So she used to be a commoner, then?”

Pollen’s words stunned Chloe.

“I- uh, no? She was never just some common person-”

“Is that because she had always been exceptional, even before the world saw her as such? Or is it because she was born into money?”

That stumped her. She… honestly didn’t know her mother’s background. She knew as much as the tabloids did- that Paris’ Style Queen had built up her reputation quick and fast despite the newness of her personal brand. As far as anyone knew, her family was fairly wealthy and supported her from day one.

Just like Chloe had hoped to get from her mother one day.

“It doesn’t matter,” Chloe insisted, “Because she is still better than the rest of the rabble downstairs.”

Polled huffed, getting up to sit on Chloe’s knee. “What makes her better? Her money? Her status? Who she is married to?”

“Obviously, it’s-” Chloe began, only to get interrupted.

“It doesn’t matter,” Pollen commented, repeating Chloe’s earlier words. “It’s all artificial. What makes your father better than the rest of them, then?”

“He’s the Mayor of Paris! He has to be better than the rest to be mayor,” Chloe replied.

“How did he become mayor?”

“He was voted in, of course.”

Pollen smiled. “So the commoners decided they liked him more than the others?”

With a groan, Chloe let her head fall back against the chaise. “Duh, that’s why he’s better than them.”

“And your mother was declared the Style Queen because she had the support of other commoners?”

“I guess so.”

“So what I'm hearing,” Pollen continued, “Is that the word of the commoners is the most important part of being above them?”

Chloe took a moment to consider that. Her brain twisted and turned trying to wrap around the idea. The common people… gave them their superiority?

“You’re thinking too hard, Chloe. What I’m trying to say is that power is given by the people. Assuming you are better than others is hypocritical because you could just as easily be one of them. What makes someone famous? What others think of them. If the ‘commoners’, as you love to call them, didn’t think that your mother’s word was worth something, or that you father was best suited to being the Mayor of Paris, would they be who they are now?”

“Oh my god Pollen,” Chloe threw an arm over her face, muffling her next words. “That shouldn’t make sense. What the hell.”

Pollen beamed. Had Chloe been looking, she may have seen hope grow in the kwami’s eyes.

“Of course it does,” Pollen hummed, “because you already knew that. Think about it- how did Marinette become class representative?”

Chloe was silent, before muttering, “The rest of the class voted for her.”

“Why?”

“Because they like her.”

“Exactly! I could tell even from the small amount of time I spent in the room that Marinette was well liked. For a ‘commoner’ she sure is exceptional.”

Chloe froze. Pollen, of course, knew what she said. Knew exactly the word that got to her, too.

Bringing her hands down to her lap, Chloe let out a long breath. “Exceptional enough for my mother to take her to New York.”

“It comes full circle, doesn’t it?” Pollen mused. She was treading on a delicate topic. Despite the horrid way her mother treated her, Chloe obviously valued her mother’s opinion. If she tried to denounce her mother too soon Chloe would lash out at Pollen, killing their relationship. But if she didn’t try to unweave Audrey’s teachings then Chloe would be stuck the way she is.

So she decided to do something risky.

“It’s not your fault she left.”

Chloe’s head snapped up. Eyes wide, she looked down at Pollen wordlessly. Then, her eyebrows drew together along with an angry sneer. “Of course not! Why would you even think that?”

‘Carefully, now,’ Pollen reassured herself. 

“Because,” She began, “You were thinking it.”

Waiting for Chloe to lash out, Pollen kept a neutral face. But something had shifted in Chloe since the day before. Watching her intently, Pollen watched her face fall.

Chloe took a shuddering breath. “I did. Think about it, I mean. But she’s just busy. She’s always been too busy to stick around.”

Pollen gazed at her sadly. “Too busy to say goodbye?”

Biting her lip, Chloe fought tears. She would not break down for the second time in less than twenty four hours!

Instead, she turned to look out her window. “Why does she always leave, Pollen?” Chloe’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. It struck a chord in the kwami.

“Sometimes the people we love won't stay with us, even when we want them to. And it’s no fault of our own. Everyone has their own path in life,” Pollen explained, placing a placating paw on Chloe’s hands.

Noticing that her hands had clenched into fists, Chloe fought to relax. It wasn’t the first time her mom had left her. Why did it hurt so much now? 

Closing her eyes, Chloe fought to remain neutral. “What about you? I thought you were staying to see if I was a good person. Are you going to stick around?”

Pollen stroked her hands gently. “You aren’t a good person.” When Chloe stiffened, she quickly added, “But there is good in you. I don’t think you are ready to be a hero yet, but that’s okay. I promise that I will be here for you, even if you never become a hero. I want to stay with you.”

And despite everything, despite her mother leaving and not bothering to say goodbye, despite her words to her yesterday, Chloe felt something in her heart ease. Just a little.

“You better not.”

[radiant-flutterbun]

Mason’s Brightside Part 2

   Part 1

“No Mason, weird dreams are not a symptom of the herb I gave you last night,” Alaria sighed “If you had listened to me you would know the opposite is true.”

    “No dreams is a symptom?”

    “Yes and so are dehydration headaches so make sure you drink lots of water.”

Alaria shooed Mason outside of the healing den and he nearly crashed into Corkscrew, a spiral.

    “Watch where you’re going!” Corkscrew snarled.

    Mason ignored him and went to get something to drink, his mind however was still thinking about that dream. He’d never been a vivid dreamer. Something about it was so unnatural.

    Evan came up to him later in the day and he described the dream to him.

    “Weird right?”

    “Yeah but sometimes a dream is just a dream. Don’t read too much into it.”

    “But it felt so real!”

    “You sure it’s not… Ya know your mind playing tricks on you?”

    Mason glared at Evan “It wasn’t that.”

    “Sorry, sorry I didn’t mean to imply…” Evan coughed “Maybe you’re just not used to a good night’s sleep is all.”

    Mason thought about that for a moment “That… Ok yeah that I can believe.”

    The next night he was given the same herb from Alaria and he found himself right back at the Emperor’s Wake.

    “Good to see you again Mason,” It was the tundra. They were sitting beside him, so close that Mason could feel their fur on him “Are you on your way?”

    “I-” Mason began and then he snarled “What are you doing in my head?”

    The tundra looked back at him calmly, “You can thank our local dreamwalker for that.”

    “Dreamwalker…?”

    “You’ll be waking soon. I don’t have time to explain. Please come here to the Emperor’s Wake. I’ll explain everything. It’ll be much easier in person, I promise.”

    Mason was about to speak when he found himself awake, sunlight danced across his room. 

    He began to pack his things. It didn’t take long. Being formerly dead, he didn’t have any personal belongings from his world. All he had were just a few art supplies Flare had been kind enough to give him, a simple dagger, a water canister, a few snacks and a blanket. Everything fit neatly in a bag he wrapped over his shoulder.

    He trotted down the stairs from his room and into the clan lobby. He made his way to the main exit when Evan found him.

    “Where are you going?” He asked, seeing the bag.

    Mason sighed “The Emperor’s Wake.”

    “What? Isn’t that where that monster is?”

    “Yep.”

    “And you want to go there?!”

    “Correct.”

    “Why?”

    “Because that’s where the dragons in my dreams told me to go.”

    “So you’re just going to listen to random dream dragons now?���

    “See this is why I was trying to avoid you.”

    Evan looked hurt “You were planning on leaving without telling me?”

    “Because I knew this would happen! I knew you wouldn’t understand! Listen, I've been here before. I know that whoever these dragons are, they're not going to get out of my head until I do what they want me to do.”

    “Hey no offense Mason but the last time you listened to some... thing in your mind you ended up hurting a kid.”

    Mason snarled “He wasn’t just a kid. Don’t oversimplify what Muerto is.”

    “I’m just saying, if you knew that was Match speaking to you, would you still have done the things you did?”

    “Yes. Match is just another self centered god, but at least me listening to him, capturing Muerto, weakening him. Getting him to spill his dirty little secrets. At least that did something! You would have rotted away to nothing and we would have all been trapped in that horrible place until we died. I got the gods’ attention. I changed things!”

    Evan took a deep breath “Ok. Yeah you’re right. But I also don’t have to like what we had to do to get where we are now. Maybe this time we can take some time to think about what we’re getting into before we have to hurt anyone?”

    “We? You want to come with me?”

    “I don’t like the idea of being near that monster, but I hate the idea of letting you go alone even more.”

***

    Mason waited for Evan to pack his things. Like him, it wasn’t much so they were off on their journey soon enough. Evan felt bad leaving without a word so he took the time to leave a note for Nike.

    The two took off and soared over the Sunbeam Ruins in the direction of the area now known as the Emperor’s Wake. Mason had a map with him to help him keep track of their journey. As he flapped his wings he noted how natural flight felt to him. It was strange to him how quickly he picked up the skill. His original body was not one designed for flight and never in a million years would he have guessed he’d eventually become a dragon. Sepulchral had taught him to fly after he had entered the Dragon Planet. Sepulchral was a good teacher, and unlike all of the other Selcouth creatures that were brought to Sornieth, Sepulchral actually had wings back in their world, making him uniquely experienced with flight. But even with such an excellent teacher, Mason felt like he shouldn’t have picked up the skill quite so quickly. It only made it more frustrating that relearning to draw was not as natural to him.

    “Sorry about planning to take off without you,” Mason said after a few miles of silence.

    “Hey, it's cool. No big deal,” Evan responded.

    “What were you going to tell me the other day, by the way? I didn’t mean to brush you off like that. Sorry again.”

    “Oh that?” Evan laughed nervously “That was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

    Mason glanced at his friend “Alright…” He thought about pushing the subject, but decided to let it go.

    The two flew in silence until it got dark. They camped out in a secluded pine forest for the night and took off again when it was morning. 

    Their flight was uneventful until they flew over a patch of land that was scarred in an unusual way. Most of the Sunbeam Ruins were filled with rolling fields of grass and green pine trees dotted with ruins from a forgotten era. But this patch of land was blackened and dead. It was not burned like a fire found it, rather it looked like a perfect circle of the land just shriveled up and died. Below structures that were not ancient ruins were crushed and destroyed like a tornado ran through the community.

    “What do you suppose happened down there?” Evan asked.

    Mason shook his head “Nothing good probably. Let's keep moving.”

    It wasn’t long before the land began to look more like what Mason saw in his dreams. There were tell-tale signs of destruction, but not quite like the shriveled dead land they had just passed. Mason searched the ground below him and nearly stopped mid flight. There on top of a hill covered in ruins was the same rugged tundra that had spoken to him.

    Mason landed beside them with a thud and Evan landed more gracefully beside him.

    “You!” Mason snarled.

    The tundra smiled and waved “Mason! So good to see you in person. And oh look! You brought a friend.”

    “Why were you in my head? How do you know who I am? What do you want with me?”

    “Holy shit,” Evan was ignoring the tundra and instead his eyes were fixed on the horizon “It’s real.”

    Mason heard a roar and looked up. There in the distance was the rampaging beast, the Emperor Luminax. It was even more horrible than it was in his dreams.

    “Terrifying isn’t it?” The tundra asked, following Mason’s gaze.

    “It’s just… Hard to believe it’s real.”

    “I know. Seeing your first Emperor… It makes you wonder what’s real and what’s fake. But that thing is real alright. It’s destroying lives and the gods are doing nothing about it.”

    Mason snorted “Yeah that sounds about right.”

    “Ah, don’t like gods do you?” The tiny bug dragon from Mason’s dream landed on top of the tundra’s head “I knew this one would fit in well!”

    Mason peeled his eyes away from the undead creature in the distance “Ok, no more talking until you two explain why you were in my head.”

    “Ah that would be Karyu’s doing,” The tundra addressed the bug sitting on their head.

    “How dare you!” Mason lunged forward to swat the bug, but they quickly flew away. Mason ended up hitting the large tundra’s antlers instead. Mason’s hand stung and the tundra glared at him.

    “Maybe instead of threatening my friend, you could sit down and listen.” The tundra shoved Mason to the ground. Mason tried to get back up, but stopped when the tundra gave him another glare.

    Karyu flew back onto the tundra’s head and pointed at Mason “That one tortured a kid god, so I guess I shouldn’t really be too surprised. Still, he has use here.”

    Mason’s eyes widened “How did you-”

    “My name is Perryn,” The tundra cut Mason off and smiled “I’m an Emperor hunter, and my friend Karyu here is a dream walker.”

    “And demigod!” Once again Karyu took off from their perch on Perryn’s head. They circled in the air and as they landed they began to transform. Before Mason’s eyes the little bug dragon grew in size. They spun so fast it forced Mason to blink and with that one blink a new creature was standing where the bug disappeared. Its body was unmistakably human to Mason, but it still had some of the bug features of its dragon form. Antennae sprung up from Karyu’s head and insectoid wings from their back. They wore a long robe and their long purple hair touched the ground. They were still small, Perryn towered over them and so would have Mason if he had been standing, but they were no longer squishable. 

    “My mother is the goddess of dreams for this world, and lucky me, I’ve inherited some of her powers,” Karyu walked up to Mason and poked his snout. He snapped at their fingers “You have the most fascinating dreams out of everyones’ I’ve walked through. So many memories are mixed with yours. Some juicy ones too!”

    “No. You didn’t.”

    “It’s just a shame that lately you haven't been dreaming much. I’m guessing insomnia? Well that’s no good for me or my pals here at The Guild of Osiris! I was afraid if your sleeping patterns continued I would have lost contact with you! And that would have been a real bummer.”

    “Which is why Karyu had to bring me into the picture,” Perryn said “We needed you to come here before they lost contact with you and they thought you would listen to me and not them.”

    “And I was fucking right!” Karyu grinned and then leaned close to Mason and whispered “I just thought Perryn would be more your type. I’m gorgeous, I know, but I’m taken.”

    Mason just stared at Karyu. He opened his mouth and then closed it like a fish out of water.

    “Yes. Karyu was right!” Peryn shouted and then coughed “And now you’re here like we were hoping. Karyu has seen a lot of things about you from their dream walking ,which I know may be awkward and invasive-”

    “You don’t think?” Mason found his voice for a moment.

    “But Karyu has a knack for finding those who are perfect for helping our cause. Mason, is life uncertain to you? Maybe you’ll make a good Emperor Hunter.”