#I’m very scared to put the miraculous tag so just pretend it’s there. It’s something I’m working on with 🦝

[lucky-guess]

Part of me finds it so funny that I’m mostly an MCD tumblr. Before a few weeks ago, it had been years since I had even thought of MCD. I do so much other stuff? That I just haven’t posted. I don’t even know why. Perhaps to not disrupt the stuff I normally post here and make it easier to find things? There honestly no clear explanation.

Anyway, I’ve begun making a Aphverse Au mixed with Miraculous because I started thinking.

And for TWST and OHSHC fans, I’ve been thinking of “If Kaoru Hitachiin was the TWST Mc” so… yeah. there’s also other things. Talk to me about it if you’d like, I’d appreciate it. Just specify what your asking about so I don’t have to guess. I’m very likely to assume it’s about MCD: Marigold if you don’t.

[lord-explosion-baku]

Trident Tale part 2

Mermaid!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima x reader

Warnings: adult themes (minors DNI)

Author’s note: sorry to those of you who have asked me to put on the tag list! I don’t do tag lists! But if you don’t want to lose this story, you can always bookmark it on AO3.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Original image by @maewoahoah

Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

The thing about being hungry is that you can sometimes convince yourself that you’re full. You can sip water, swallow your breath, pop a few mints in—hell, you could even pretend to eat. However, even if you might trick your brain, your stomach will still be empty.

By the time you finally get some real goddamn food in your stomach, it will be aching from being teased.

It feels like this is exactly what Hitoshi Shinsou has done to you. Teased you. He’d mentioned being one of Ryūjin, which you can only assume is something religious or magic. You know he’s a fish, and that he makes people’s skin glow when he touches them, and apparently his lips or his saliva can heal wounds. But he’s not yet given you any real goddamn food.

The jerk has been swimming circles around the pool, commenting on how disgusting it is being stuck with all the trash, and complaining about your poor hospitality, but has not yet told you what the hell he’s doing here.

It’s not like you ever asked for some creature to crash into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool. Maybe some people would be ecstatic over finding an actual merperson, but life isn’t all about singing songs and talking to seagulls. He’s definitely not an Ariel, unless he is in fact looking for a prince. With all his sass, you think he’s much more of an Ursula than a Disney princess. If he is a sea-witch, he refuses to tell you.

It won’t matter much by the time Denki gets here anyways. You had been honest when you said you wouldn’t put it against him to call some news station when he sees Hitoshi. You figure that after some science lab’s helicopters carried your intruder away to run tests on him, the fish-man will be out of your hair and a thing of the past.

Despite the cynicism crawling through your head, the thought actually makes a guilty pit form in the bottom of your stomach. A life is a life, afterall.

“At least tell me why you tried to…to…” Your mouth flattens when you recall Hitoshi leaning into you, his lips a whisper away from yours.

“To?” Hitoshi asks while he observes the wayward bra that blew into the pool with notable repulsion.

“To kiss me!” You bark out, ears warm.

“Oh, that?” He purses his lips, spinning the bra around in the water. Then, he’s contemplative for a moment, as if he’s thinking of an excuse that won’t make you angry. Or will. He seems to get a kick out of frustrating you.

“I suppose I should’ve considered that it’s not a social norm for humans to greet other humans with their lips,” he says with a cocky, probably lying smirk. “My bad.”

“You expect me to believe that mermaids kiss each other to say hello?”

“Not a mermaid.” The fish is all teeth as he regards you. “I’m one of Ryūjin. And I’d like to think that you’d believe anything I tell you, since you seem to know nothing about my people.”

“Because you won’t tell me anything about your people,” you mutter right before the house bell rings. Your heart jumps with a spike of panic. You haven’t thought about what you’re going to say to Denki yet. You begin thinking about science labs again, and that knot in your stomach tightens.

“Okay,” you say in a warning tone, “I’m gonna let Denki in now…”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s gonna see you…”

“That’s the plan.” Hitoshi lifts a brow. “You’re not worried for me, are you?”

“I just think you should be more worried about yourself,” you say. “Humans aren’t…” There’s a pensive pause when you try to search for the right word. “Humans aren’t good.”

“Would you say that you’re a good human?” He asks.

What a question. You’d like to believe that you are, but you can’t kid yourself. Never one to be very self-sacrificing, you utter your next words with confidence. “Nope.”

“And yet, you haven’t done anything malicious towards me. Nothing, besides that half-assed attempt to kick me away from you, anyways.”

Rolling your eyes to keep your couldn’t-care-less facade up, you left the smirking merman to wade around in the murky pool. There’s not another second to think about what you could possibly say to Denki about your surprise guest, because when you enter the house, you see his face peeking through the side window next to the front door. You could see a drink holder and a Tiki Burger bag in his hand. His smile is bright, while yours is grim.

He pouts, seeing through forced body language, and proceeds to make a funny face. You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. You might not be a good person, but Denki is. He’s an idiot, but you don’t think he’d ever do anything to harm another creature, mythical or not. This could even be fun to him. Exciting. Something extraordinary happened, and you’d been too scared to react to it appropriately, but Denki would be different.

Your changing emotions grow palpable when you finally reach for the handle.

“Heard you had some thingies that needed twisting,” Denki says as you open the door. He’s wearing his company’s shirt, a brown thing with the PoolPros logo on it, though it’s cut raggedly short to show off his midriff. He’s been particularly confident ever since he’d gotten his navel pierced, and happily showed off the topaz stone that Kirishima had given him. It hangs right above his buckle. It forces onlookers to look at his abs…or maybe his groin. He says it’s lucky, and you haven’t argued with him about it. You would probably call something Kirishima gave you lucky too.

In a flash, you’re grabbing him by his shirt collar and guiding him in and against one of the hall mirrors.

“Something’s happened.” The words immediately spill out, even while you still do not know what you’re going to say. You hope that if the right things tumble out of your mouth, Denki will get the picture.

“Uh…” Denki’s cheeks are red hot, reacting to your close proximity. “Was it a spike in your libido?”

God.

“No, shut up!” You smack his chest and glance down the hall towards the back door. The pool isn’t in your line of vision, but just knowing what lurks there gets your blood pumping. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need you to keep an open mind.”

He bobs his brows. “For you? Always.”

After an exhale, you gather your composure, and tell Denki everything with as much eloquence as you can muster.

“There’s something living in the pool!” You bark out, erratic. “It’s big and it has zero impulse control and it’s rude! It talks! When it touches me, my skin glows. Then it tried to kiss me, Kaminari! And it’s rude!” You add that in again, because you cannot stress it enough. Hitoshi Shinsou is as unrefined as a piece of driftwood, and he had the audacity to make comments on behalf of your decorum. “It won’t tell me what it’s doing here, either. I offered to get it back into the ocean, but it said it wanted something else, but it won’t tell me what, and I don’t know what to do!”

Denki blinks rapidly, like his eyelashes are repelling every word you toss at him. There’s a beat, he swallows, then his lips tilt up into a knowing grin.

“Alright,” he says, “I see you.”

“You do?” Maybe you had to give Denki a little more credit. That hadn’t been your best description of a nightmare scenario.

“Sure do, little lady. This is some kinda belated birthday prank, huh? Thought you could slide one past me when I was least expecting it! I was thinking that maybe you just forgot about it, but now you’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t ya! Well cutie, I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid!”

Striding into the house, Denki places the shakes and burger bag onto Shuzenji’s kitchen counter. Shoulders deflating, you follow him while he fishes a few fries out of the bag. If he doesn’t get it now, he will soon enough.

“What could it be?” He ponders, tossing a fry into his mouth. He nods towards one of the cups and mumbles about a shake for you, then towards the back door. “Couldn’t be a party—it’s too early for a party. And you don’t talk to many people…”

Ignoring the slight burn, you front Denki, and extend your hand out to his. His eyes widen for a moment, he wipes his hand on his pants, and takes yours.

“I need your help, Denki. Seriously.”

“Yeah,” he says, a touch more reformative. “Okay.”  

What should’ve been some grand reveal, however, turned out to be anything but.

The pool being clean is the first thing you notice, as absurd as that is. It’s now half-filled, with only sprinkles of algae leftover by some miraculous clean-up. There’s no more silver fish swimming around, and all the trash that had previously taken sanctuary in the pool now lays on a mountainous pile with the bra sitting at its peak. Your guest is no longer in the pool—the very clean pool.

Denki chuckles and says, “well, this doesn’t look bad at all. By how hysterical you were on the phone, I was expecting something much worse. Oh! Hello!”

Your jaw drops as Denki waves at Hitoshi—a very comfortable-looking Hitoshi who lounges on one of the reclining pool chairs, head turned back like he’s sun bathing, one leg crossed over the goddamn other. Legs. Attached to feet—feet that definitely were not there when you’d met him.

Tricky, magic fish-man.

“Oh,” Hitoshi says, carefully considering Denki. “We have company?”

The ‘we’ in his statement doesn’t sit right with you anymore than his appearance does. He stands, and both you and Denki gasp when you see his new outfit in its entirety. It’s all royal blue, fine silks, and sheer fabric that only covers the places that would make Denki blush. Puffy, yet flowing sleeves connect to his now two golden cuffs. A heavy gold necklace hangs around him, and he’s got a light sash thrown around mostly his bare chest. A golden, v-shaped belt holds his deep blue harem pants up.

They are the gaudiest goddamn pajamas you’ve ever seen.

Hitoshi moves like water to face Denki, then firmly grasps him by the forearm, yanking the boy forward so that their lips are mere inches away from each other. Noting that there’s no glowing from their contact, you watch as Hitoshi’s indigo eyes slide from Denki’s lips, to you, and shows off a dubious glint.

“Whoops,” Hitoshi murmurs basically into Denki’s mouth. “I almost forgot that you don’t greet people like this here.” He takes a step away and smirks. “Forgive me. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. You must be the pool guy.”

“Um, yeah. ‘M Denki Kaminari.” Denki laughs nervously. His cheeks burn red, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Grabbing onto your hand tightly, he starts back towards the house, towing you along, saying, “excuse us, we just have to—uh. Talk.”

In a tick, you’re whisked right back inside, in the land of private conversations.

“It didn’t look like that before, Denki. I swear to god.” You’re insisting as soon as the door is closed.

“It?!” Denki balks, his cheeks turning even more red. “Do you mean the pool or that hunk of a man hanging around your backyard?!”

“Both, I guess, but I wouldn’t call it a man! It had a giant purple tail before you showed up!!”

“That’s very rude, y’know.” Denki peers back at Hitoshi who’s lackadaisically cleaning his fingertips. “What are their pronouns?”

You imagine Hitoshi surrounded by others like him, all either screaming or clicking to communicate with each other in an inhuman language. “I don’t think pronouns matter wherever it’s from!”

“Hmm.” Denki slides the door open and pops his head out. “‘Scuse me, Hitoshi, what are your pronouns?”

Without missing a beat, Hitoshi answers him. “As in titles? You can call me Shinsou, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll allow you to call me lord.”

“Lord, of course.” More nervous laughter as Denki closes the door. “Lord. That’s a kink thing, right? It’s gotta be!”

“It’s not!” You bark, but Denki doesn’t hear you. Instead, he rushes towards one of the hall mirrors and begins fussing over his hair.

“I honestly can’t believe you did this. I mean, you, of all people. You’re braver than I gave you credit for. Coulda given me a heads up, though. I would’ve worn somethin’ nice. Or not come at all. I do feel like I’m intruding.” Denki’s eyes light up. “Unless this is for my birthday and you’re…you want me to join you?”

“You’ve lost me.” You're too busy trying to figure out what you can do to convince Denki that Hitoshi is a mermaid. You’ve considered pushing him back into the pool, but you don’t know if that would change him back to his sea-man state, or just make you look like a jackass.

“This is so weird. I haven’t seen that guy on the island before, and believe me, I know everybody. It must’ve cost a pretty penny to get him here. On top of everything else-“ He clears his throat- “how much is this costing you? Does Shuzenji know what you get up to while she’s away?”

It hits you like a freight train. “Oh, Kaminari…No…”

“The jig is up!” Denki stomps his foot defiantly and points towards the door. “You’re paying that man for sex!”

“God no!” The very idea that you’ve paid Hitoshi to be here, to touch you, flusters the hell out of you. If anything, you’d pay for him to leave. “You’d honestly think I’d hire a prostitute?!”

“Escort is the term they are using nowadays, and no, I wouldn’t think you’d hire an escort until now!” Denki scoffs, then moves his hand through his hair, exasperated. “The thing is, babe, you don’t need to. You’re cute and fun! If you got out every once in a while…”

“Fish!” You yell, cutting him off, because you’re not about to have another conversation about your hermit lifestyle. “He’s a fish, Denki! I didn’t fuck a fish! Nor am I planning to!”

Denki blinks at you. Not like before—not like he’s reflecting your words. This blink is more like a blink one would offer someone who’d been having an otherwise normal conversation, until they started talking about the earth being flat, or homosexuals burning in a lake of fire.

I’m not crazy, you think and will Denki to believe. I’ll prove it.

Before you can give Denki a play-by-play of what happened—properly this time, and not just your rambled recall—the door slides open, and Hitoshi steps in.

“May I enter?” The regal-looking man asks.

At the exact same moment you say, “no,” Denki says, “of course.”

“I was just hoping to find something to eat.” Hitoshi stops in the kitchen, arms crossed and expectant.

“You haven’t fed your hooker?” Denki whispers and it blows your mind that he can say hooker and you can’t say prostitute. “You can have half my burger!”

“Burger,” Hitoshi repeats the unfamiliar word, and looks around, probably wondering what it could be. Denki takes the hint and proceeds to fish his meal out of the bag. Overly familiar with Shuzenji’s kitchen, he finds a knife to cut the sandwich in two, then hands one half to Hitoshi.

Hitoshi frowns.

“I’m sorry, are you a vegetarian?” Denki asks, and you can tell he’s being overly hospitable in a house that is not his. When Hitoshi doesn’t answer him, but doesn’t stop frowning, Denki asks, “do you not eat meat?”

“This is meat?” Asks Hitoshi, shaking the burger in the air. Some mayonnaise-covered lettuce falls to the kitchen floor.

“I have to clean that!” You yip and wet a paper towel. When you’re on your knees, Hitoshi gives you a smirk of indifference.

“What, do you not have hamburgers where you’re from?” Denki asks, and when Hitoshi refuses to answer him again, he says, “the meat is the patty. It’s beef.”

“Beef.” Hitoshi begins dissecting the thing, throwing the bun halves, pickles, tomato, and lettuce all on the floor. You continue to curse at him while he sniffs at the patty. “What animal is this?”

“Beef is cow, dude.” Denki sounds more skeptical now, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already on your hands and knees, scrubbing ketchup out of the tile. “Man, throwing food on the floor is rude no matter where you’re from. Babe, you shouldn’t have to clean that up.”

“If I don’t, who will?” You ask, sardonic.

“There’s not really a floor where I’m from,” Hitoshi says once he swallows his first bite. He places the patty back onto the burger wrap, and steps away from his mess. “At least, there’s no floor when it’s meal time. We just let shells and bones float around until they go down to where they’ll eventually break down and decay.”

Denki asks, “where did you say you were from?”

“He’s a fish, Denki.”

“I didn’t.” Hitoshi gets down on his knees with a wetted paper towel of his own. He swipes at the places you’ve missed, then looks at you. “Tell me, would a not-good person clean up a mess that isn't their own?”

“It’s kind of my job,” you retort and stand so Hitoshi can finish cleaning. Instead, he stands with you.

“And what is his job?” Hitoshi nods towards Denki who looks more and more fretful by the second. “I assume he’s here to provide services. If you’re paying him, shouldn’t he be the one to clean for you? Prepare meals for you? Bend to your whims?”

Denki says, “I’ve got a couple jobs, but I’m not a housekeeper, no.”

“No?” Hitoshi gives out a terse laugh and hands the towel off to Denki. “Clean.”

Denki looks to you for an explanation. You’re about to chew Hitoshi out, when he again says, “clean,” but this time, there’s something attached to his voice. Something that is nothing, but also more. It sends goosebumps up your arms and compels Denki to fall to the floor and obey the command.

“Yes, my lord.” When Denki finishes cleaning and throws the rest of the mess in the bin, he looks at Hitoshi, eyes glossy, waiting.

“Fetch me some water,” says Hitoshi, and after another yes, my lord, Denki begins searching for a glass.

“Quit it!” You shout and very nearly grab on to Hitoshi’s arm, stopping only when you remember the glow and the prickles that accompany his touch. Decidedly, you hurry after Denki and grab the glass from his hands and snap your fingers in front of his face.

Denki blinks, and this time it’s not because he doesn’t hear you, and it’s not because you’re spouting crazy nonsense. He blinks, and it’s a revelation.

“Hypnosis!” Denki says the word like eureka! and you want to shake him, because he should be angrier than he seems.

“I’m surprised you understand or even remember that much,” Hitoshi drawls. “You’re more in-tune than you’d like people to believe.”

And I’m Mother Teresa, you think bitterly. The fish is contemptuous as hell, but he doesn’t read people well. To him, you’re good and apparently Denki’s a genius.

“How did you do that?” Denki asks with growing excitement. “When I was a kid, I was really into magic, but could never get any of the tricks right. You didn’t use any triggering noises or images or anything.”

“There is a bit of magic about you,” Hitoshi says like he’s thinking out loud. “Not enough to pull something like what I just did off unless you have the proper tide jewel. But you do have enough power to utilize a tide jewel.”

“Don’t do that again,” you warn, and pour water from the sink into the glass. There’s purified water in the fridge, but Hitoshi hasn’t earned it. “To Kaminari or to me. The difference between a house guest and a home-invader is who does and does not use hypnosis on other guests.”

“I wasn’t aware that hypnosis is a common occurrence in your residence.” Hitoshi reaches for the glass, but you hold it away from him. Casting out a withering look, he says, “I wouldn’t be able to hypnotize him again, even if I wanted to. Not for a while, anyways. Not without my tide jewel.”

“What’s a tide jewel?” Denki asks. “Is that, like, sea glass?”

Eyes flicking from the glass of water, to Denki, then to you, Hitoshi says, “he knows how to ask a question.”

The questions that you ask get ignored! But instead of saying that, you continue to withhold the water, and say, “then answer him.”

Mildly peeved, Hitoshi turns his attention back to Denki. “You say you have a couple of jobs. What would they be?”

“That’s not answering his question,” you mutter.

“I’ll decide whether I should answer him in a moment. Denki, if you will.”

“Oh, well…” The sheepish Denki brings his hand to the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “I’ve got the PoolPros gig, and sometimes I pick shifts up at The Salty Barrel. I sort of got an affinity for making drinks…and cooking…and fixing things, so they like to keep me around.”

Unamused, Hitoshi pries. “Anything else?”

“Sometimes I pick up odd jobs. Fishing and delivery. I guess I’m pretty dependable because of the boat.”

This catches Hitoshi’s attention. “You have a boat?”

“Sure, yeah. It’s nothin’ too special yet. I’ve been working on it, and it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for what it’s truly intended for.”

“Which would be?”

Denki looks at you and winks, making your ears warm. You know exactly why he got the boat.

“Romantic rendezvous.”

“I see,” Hitoshi says pensively. Then, his eyes go sharp when he notices you fiddling with the ties on your shorts. “Are you two mates?”

Denki lifts a conspiratorial brow towards you, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Sure, yeah—we’re mates!”

You push away from him, and bite, “not those kinds of mates.”

Although nobody disagrees with you, you sense Denki sulking.

“Ah,” Shinsou muses. “You haven’t yet fought for her hand?”

Before you can groan at the idea, Denki laughs quietly, but his laughter quickly grows uproariously as he considers the idea. Soon, he’s gripping his stomach to stop himself from doubling over. You glare at his feet.

“As if there’s another guy to fight for her,” Denki bellows, wiping a tear away from his eye. “Maybe if she ever went out, but for now, the only person I gotta fight for her hand, is her!”

“Oh, I understand,” Shinsou says, eyes on you. “A battle to assert domination.”

Denki hoots loudly at the idea. “Looks like I’m screwed!”

To your growing agitation and embarrassment, Denki continues to laugh. It’s as if you’re not constantly shooting him down. You’re not pitiful. Not helpless. And you think you’d have some game if you put your heart into it. You just have a type, and the pool guy just doesn’t fit the bill, whether he’s handy or not.

There’s no humor to be found in Hitoshi’s eyes, though. He’s glaring at you, like before, only now he’s looking at you more like you’re a piece of meat—like he’s some kind of predator and you’re his newfound prey. You inadvertently step closer to Denki, as if he could be used as some sort of defense shield, then elbow him in the ribs, pretending that you’re not at all intimidated by this fish-turned-man.

“Nobody’s fighting anybody,” you say, keeping eye-contact with Hitoshi. You’ve been told before that the fact that you’re never the first to look away is a little off-putting. Hoping to have the same uncomfortable effect on your guest, you don’t even blink when you say, “I just have my eyes on someone special.”

At the same time Denki stops his laughing, Hitoshi narrows his eyes—not out of malice, but what seems to be curiosity. That’s as far as you’ll go with revealing any more personal information. You might not be physically spoken for, yet, but at least you’re emotionally unavailable. You vaguely wonder if those kinds of ideals are acknowledged by sea people.

“Yeah, Kiri,” Denki says with a roll of his eyes. So much for keeping things personal. “He’s not interested in dating anyone, though. In fact, he’s pretty much married to the ocean.”

“At least there aren’t other girls,” you say, and with a quick glance at Denki, you add, “or boys.”

Denki exaggerates a woeful, hand-over-forehead pose and cries, “at least we have each other!” Then, he places his hand back around your shoulders. Again, you scoot away from him, and this time, you catch Hitoshi’s lips quirk up, just a bit.

“Alright,” Hitoshi says. “I’ve decided.”

“Decided what?” You ask.

“That the two of you are going to help me.”

The fish-man moves to flatten the burger wrap down on the counter like a map, and proceeds to decimate the other half of Denki’s burger. Denki says, “oh that’s fine…I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”

“Help you with what!” You bark, practically starving for details. Despite Hitoshi and all that he’s done, your interest is piqued, and you feel as though you’re finally going to get to the meat of his situation.

Lining a few fries on the paper wrap, Hitoshi finally says, “a few of my worldly possessions have been stolen from me. They’ve been missing for quite a long time now, and I now plan to take them back. Four of the six items happen to be tide jewels. I figure those will be the easiest to locate and extract.”

Denki snaps his finger. “Tide jewels! That’s what we were talking about! What are those?

Dabbing his pinky into some mustard, Hitoshi says, “artistry…” He dips his ring finger into the ketchup and says, “reign…” he tears a piece of lettuce in half and says, “tide…” and finally, he rips some of the patty and says, “soul.”

“Artistry, reign, tide, soul,” Denki repeats, peeking over Hitoshi’s shoulder. “You don’t happen to be a musician, do you? A magician musician!”

“I’m a connoisseur, but not a practitioner.” Hitoshi breathes. “And you’re too close to me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not an artist,” Denki huffs, taking a few steps back. You move in to see what Denki saw.

On the wrap, the French fries have been warped to look like some sort of three-pronged fork. On the left prong, there’s a dab of ketchup, in the center, mustard, and the right has a piece of lettuce sitting on it. Connecting the three prongs is the bit of hamburger meat Hitoshi had ripped.

“Is this supposed to be a fork or a trident?” You ask, then kick yourself, because it’s obviously a trident. Duh. Mermaids. “Is that one of the things that have been stolen? A trident?”

Hitoshi says, “yes. All four of the tide jewels connect to the trident. With them, the trident could very well be one of the most powerful blessed objects on this planet. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be catastrophic.”

“Now, hang on,” Denki begins, brows curved into a frown. “What?”

“So good at questions,” you murmur.

“Each tide jewel has its own magical property. The names speak for themselves, but since the two of you are a little slow on the uptake, I’ll explain.” Hitoshi points at each different spot on his fries-trident, explaining what each point represents.

“The yellow jewel is for artistry and skill. Whoever wields it, whether in its natural form or attached to another object, will learn trades quickly, can craft almost anything at a master’s level, and they’ll have a more creative way of thinking.”

“The red jewel is for reign and rule. Whoever wields this can command any audience. Wars have been fought, kingdoms taken, and women stolen by the power of this gem. It’s almost the most violent of the four, but it can also be used to keep peace.”

“The blue jewel is for the tide. They used to be two jewels, one for tide-ebbing, the other for tide-flowing, but they’ve been molded together after another theft mishap. With the power of this jewel, one would be able to control not only the water of the sea, but water itself. This gem can create storms you couldn’t dream of. This is possibly the most dangerous stone if placed into the wrong hands.”

“Sir, that’s a piece of lettuce,” Denki says.

“Your burger didn’t have anything blue,” Hitoshi growls, “nor did it have anything purple, which brings me to the last jewel. This would be the soul jewel. It aids people with wishes, can offer good dreams, and can allow the wielder to see people’s auras, or souls. This jewel has stopped many malevolent unions in the past.”

Finally, Hitoshi turns back to you and Denki. There’s nothing content about his expression now. If anything, he looks grave.

“The fact that the trident is not in my possession has already had a cataclysmic influence on the world you know now. I need it, and the jewels, or else there may be dire consequences.”

Throat dry, palms sweaty, you swallow thickly, and allow yourself a moment to process all that he’s saying. It may be idiotic, but you believe him. Maybe if you hadn’t seen him in the water earlier, things would be different. You’d be more skeptical. But since you’ve already seen one impossible thing today—two if you're counting the fact that Hitoshi grew legs and magically poofed himself an outfit—you don’t think he’s lying.

However, Denki did not see him in the water. Which is why he’s the first to speak.

“Right,” he says, looking down on you. “Sorry, babe, but the marvel universe did it first with Thanos and his gauntlet. If this is supposed to be a scavenger hunt of some kind, can we skip the game, hints and all, and get to the dinner? I expect there��ll be candles and such for nighttime, so maybe you and I can hang out at the beach, sans the mean magician?” Denki looks at Hitoshi. “No offense, buddy. You could join us if you cheer up a bit. I’d never say no to a threesome with two equally attractive people.”

The water in the glass you’re holding begins to shake. It shakes, and then it moves, and then it lifts up into the air, snaking around like a gelatinous worm, and slowly makes its away to Hitoshi’s mouth. Never before have you seen anyone swallow menacingly, and this has changed it.

“I am not your buddy,” Hitoshi hisses between his teeth, “and this is not a game.”

“He just…” Denki begins stuttering. This isn’t something he can chock up to something as mundane as a magic trick. This is pure magic, and you feel less like a giant dork for how you reacted to Hitoshi showing himself to you, with how distraught Denki seems to be.

“I told you,” you say under your breath, “he’s a fish!”

“I am Hitoshi Shinsou. I am one of Ryūjin, and you will not desecrate my name or my people by belittling me or my power.” It hadn’t occurred to you until now that he’s not only speaking to Denki, but to both of you. The thought makes you shift with unease as Hitoshi’s eyes slide from your friend to you. “Not without consequences. I’ve been burdened with this purpose, and the two of you can choose to help me and reap the rewards that follow, or you can return to your miserable lives, loligagging and ogling the things you know you want, but are too lazy to obtain.”

At this moment, Hitoshi Shinsou seems ancient to you. Trepidation crawls up your spine, chilling you to the bone. You regret most of what you’ve said to him, even the things you’d thought he deserved. You have an inkling that if Hitoshi really wanted to harm you, or Denki, he would. Easily.

“Okay, well-“ Denki, again speaks first, thank god. “You didn’t say there would be rewards.”

Maybe don’t thank god yet. But before you can apologize on Denki’s behalf, the air that you hadn’t realized had got heavier, thicker even, lifts, and Hitoshi eases up, lackadaisical smirk back on track.

“You both wish for something,” he says. “If you help me retrieve what’s rightfully mine, I will graciously return the favor by granting your wishes.”

“We do?” Denki asks. It’s wild to you how easily he could jump back into conversation like this, although, when you look closely at him, you can see that he’s trembling faintly. “What do I want?”

“You wish for a boat,” Hitoshi says, “so I will give you a boat.”

“I have a boat.”

“I’ll give you a better boat.” Hitoshi seems to be enjoying himself now, even going so far as to lean on the table, picturing exactly what he’s describing. “A captivating boat that both women and men find irresistible. It will sail smoother and faster than the other vessels out on sea. You will never want or need for an upgrade for it will never wear or tear.”

“A super boat,” Denki muses, beguiled by the idea. It’s your turn to be skeptical now, because you haven’t wished for anything. At least, not aloud for Hitoshi to hear.

“Then, what do I get?” You ask, arms crossed. You can admit that you’re interested in what he might have to say.

“Oh darlin’, that’s easy,” Hitoshi purrs, and moves from the counter over to you. Slowly, like he’s savoring your anticipation. Lifting a finger to your arm, he slides it across your skin, watching as both the glow and the tingles return. You have to hold your breath to yourself from sighing.

“You want to be loved,” he says, “adored even. And not just by anybody. You want to be with your soulmate, isn’t that right. That may be why you came to this island to begin with.”

There’s no way he could’ve known that you’re new to the island. Nobody said anything about it. But he’s not wrong. Though you can’t say he’s right either. You came to the island in hopes to find…yourself. And though you haven’t yet found yourself, you sure as hell found Kirishima. And soulmate has a nice right to it.

“So if we help you find these gems—“

“—tide jewels,” he intervenes.

“Tide jewels-“ you roll your eyes- “then you will give Denki a super boat, and you will unite me with a soulmate?”

“Exactly,” Hitoshi confirms. “Easy peesy, isn’t it?”

“How do we know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Denki asks, finally out of his super boat daydreams.

“I said you were good with questions.” Hitoshi smirks. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But you can either do this with me, and probably get a super boat and a soulmate out of it, or you can not, and get nothing.”

Denki side-eyes you, and you him. You hold each other’s gazes for a brief moment, and you already know how this would play out if you refuse. Denki would convince you to do it. You don’t do anything, he says with his eyes. Might as well hang around and see how this plays out.

“Fine.” Even though your good conscience screams at you to do otherwise, you let up. “We’ll help you.”

“Excellent.” Hitoshi beams, or at least, he beams in a way only someone who was just threatening two other people can beam. “Then we should start our search today. We’ll probably need to go into town and see if there are any supernatural occurrences or old folktales to check out.”

Going out to town is the last thing you’d planned on doing today. Or maybe the second to last thing you planned on doing. You have to ask, because if you don’t, you’ll go batsy.

“We won’t be getting wet, will we?”

Hitoshi scoffs, which isn’t an answer. Maybe you really don’t ask the right questions because when Denki asks, “you said there were six things you need to retrieve. What’s the sixth thing?” Hitoshi winks at you, and grins. And when he grins, your stomach aches.

[silverwhiteraven]

Wings of Broken White - Ch.9

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on A03 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 8 ] [ Chapter 10 ]

“I don’t want to be scared any more,” Mylène whispered gently to the curious gazes. Ivan, out of the Dragon costume, had one of his wings wrapped around her protectively.

Chloé, decked out in a formal suit and cape, scoffed, “It’s just a costume, Haprèle, pull yourself together!” Adrien, dressed in one of Chloe’s blue and white ballroom dresses, nudged her with his shoulder and gave her a deep frown, shaking his head. She scoffed again and looked away. “If it will make you feel better, just pretend you can still see Bruel behind that ridiculous costume. It will be less scary that way.” She then turned and walked away, her regal red caplet fluttering behind her.

Ivan sent a thankful look to Adrien for the interference, and he smiled back reassuringly. Mylène giggled a bit, looking perplexed but a bit better. “Did she just try to be nice?” Adrien only shrugged, his smile turning knowing, and the group laughed lightly.

They tried the scene again, and Mylène did better, but couldn’t make it through to the end of the stage-fight. Something about imagining Ivan getting stabbed with a sword, even if it was fake, really didn’t help the situation. No one could find her when she ran off again, and that was when the Akum came. She reappeared, but no longer herself.

Rather, she was nor a very real, very large version of the class’s fairytale Dragon. And just like how their costume didn’t actually breathe fire, neither did Mylène’s. Instead, it was very much a blast of glitter.

Marinette found herself to be the first one hit by it when she was trying to herd the class to safety. She didn’t realize anything had happened to her until the class was barricaded in a room together, sans the Akuma Dragon, and everyone was staring at her.

“Uh...What? Do I still have some glitter on me?”

Adrien had broken the silence with a suppressed giggle and a shake of his head. “No, uhm, I think the Akuma did something to your armor?”

She looked down, only to realize it wasn't cardboard and foam. It was heavy, and shiny, and- “Is that-? Oh no, Adrien, your fencing rapier! She turned it into- into a broadsword! M. D'Argencourt is going to have my head if he finds out I got it involved in an Akuma attack!”

He patted her on her armored and caped shoulder and shook his head with a fond smile. “Don’t worry about it. Ladybug and Chat Blanc will have it back in no time. In the meantime, I don’t hear the Akuma at the door any more. I wonder…”

The class moved to glance out the windows of the classroom, only to gasp in unison and see their school’s courtyard transformed in a wave of glitter-fire.

Markov, wielding his still-recording camera, let out a whistling sound. “Now that's what I would call a perfect set for a medieval movie. Do you think we can get Ladybug to not cast Miraculous Ladybug until we finish filming?”

The class broke out into an even mix of disbelieving groans and agreeing hums.

All that was left now was for the Heroes to figure out how to get out there and fix this.

Surprisingly, the civilian heroes managed to get out of the classroom rather easily. It became clear that the Akuma had very little interest in actually hurting anyone. It seemed to simply be making itself at home in their school-turned-castle. It made sense that a Dragon would find comfort in being in a medieval fantasy setting of its own making.

The real problem came when the class tried to leave the building itself. Akuma-Mylène, just like any other Akuma, had her mind set on a task and was hellbent to keep at it. So the entire class was captured and became the Princesses in her dizzyingly tall Tower. Anyone not already in costumes got put into extravagant gowns, makeup, and even jewelry when the group got caught by the glitter-fire. The costumed students got the same treatment as Marinette, their characters brought to life in more detail.

Marinette did a quick headcount of the class, then did it again when she noticed something was off. “Hey, has anyone seen Kim? He was with us when the Akuma caught us, wasn’t he?” Everyone looked around the tower chamber they had been locked in, only for confirmation of his disappearance to pass back to her. That is, until their ever-composed King looked up, screeched in terror, and smacked a few faces when her Swan wings spread out.

Everyone looked up to see a small dragon in the rafters, looking down at them with a wide smile and a wagging tail. It dawned on them, then, that Kim, who had kept the prop dragon head with him the whole time, had probably ended up turning into this adorable baby dragon when they were captured.

His wings spread and he jumped into a glide. Clearly, the wingless boy was enjoying a temporary change in wing-status.

After a few circles around, he landed on Marinette’s shoulder, making her stubble. Her Crane wings flared out to balance her, and she froze. She saw the eyes of the class on her and her breathing stopped in panic.

My wings aren't bound. The Akuma got rid of my bindings- They were hidden under the cape until now- Oh gods everyone can see them, they’re-

Her thoughts were halted as Adrien spoke up.

“Huh, I guess Mylène pictures Knights to have wings! She did get you twice with that glitter-breath thing she does, right?” Marinette sucked in a breath, realizing that he was giving her an out, whether he knew it or not. “Those wings weren't there the first time she got you. Maybe the more you’re hit, the more you're affected? In that case, we should really keep dragon-Kim away from Dragon-Mylène, he might just get bigger!”

Marinette swore she would have kissed him out of thanks for this if she hadn't been weighed down by Kim. Alix and Nino, the only ones besides Kim who knew that the wings were not Akuma-made, added themselves to the kiss-list by echoing Adrien’s words and adding their own reasonings for why someone without wings would suddenly have them.

While the attention was off of her, she tucked her wings back into the cape and straightened up, dragon-Kim content to curl around her shoulders like a monkey. She went to a window and peered out, seeing nothing but the skyline. Curious, she leaned out and looked down.

“Huh,” she pulled herself back inside and turned to her class. “Hey, I think we can escape.”

“Escape?” Alya joined her, looking curious. She glanced out the window as well, and her eyes went wide. “Oh…”

“Exactly!” Marinette grinned.

“Care to fill us in, please?” Nino looked between the best friends nervously.

Alya beamed, “Look outside; the Akuma isn’t watching us. No circling of the tower like a vulture. She expects us to stay put and play our role.”

Max hummed in thought as he joined them at the windows. “This appears to be true. Traditionally in Fairy Tales involving dragons, they are not confronted in the sky, but rather on the ground. Usually outside the gates or somewhere inside. Perhaps Mylène is waiting for Ladybug and Chat Blanc to come as the Heroes of the tale?”

Marinette nodded, glad her classmates were catching on. “Exactly! I saw her down at the base of the tower, and she wasn’t looking upward. We could rescue ourselves and fly out!”

An excited buzz went through the class at the prospect of being their own saviors.

“Yeah, about that,” Chloé spoke sharply, hands on her hips and looking a tad annoyed. “Some of you can’t actually fly, remember? That includes you, Dupain-Cheng. You and Lê Chiến may have wings, but you have zero experience with flying. And not to mention my dearest Adrien! And Sabrina, too, I suppose. That’s four people who can’t leave this tower. And last I checked, none of us winged students are grown enough to carry a whole other person.”

They had to admit, Chloé  had a point, and a big one. They couldn't just leave a chunk of the class behind, stuck in the tower.

Ivan cleared his throat. “I could- I could carry Sabrina and Kim? I have practice flying while carrying things. Mostly gliding, but that’s all we need, right? Just enough to get us to the ground safely?”

“That sounds like a good plan!” Adrien smiled, interrupting Chloé as she was about to retort. “Don’t worry about me, though, I think it might actually be a good idea if I stayed. Dragon won’t be too happy if he finds out the original Princess isn’t in the tower where he belongs, right? Besides, I found a closet full of blankets and cushions. I was thinking I could build a pillow fort while I wait for the Heroes to defeat the Akuma.”

“As cute and brave as that sentient is, Adrien, what about Marinette?” Alya interjected protectively.

Marinette smiled reassuringly and set a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I should probably stay, too. I’m the Knight, remember? A Knight always protects her Princess,” she winked at Adrien, who smiled back with a dusting of pink on his cheeks.

Chloé practically growled, displeased, but a look from Adrien had her huffing and turning away. “Fine! Stay if you want! At least your sacrifice will be noble or whatever.” And with that, the class’s King was hopping up onto the windowsill and diving into open air.

It took several rounds of reassurances and encouragement, but eventually, Marinette and Adrien were able to herd the rest of their class out the windows after Chloé. Nino was the last to go, and before he did, he gave Marinette a soft smile and a glance at Adrien who gave a wave before dashing for the closet.

“What is it, Nino?” She asked curiously.

“He protected your secret,” he stated plainly.

“Oh- Yeah, he did…” She looked at Adrien, too, watching as he pulled blankets out.

“The literal model son of a winged fashion designer. There’s a chance that, well… Marinette, I think he knows.” She tensed where she was, but said nothing to try and disprove her friend’s theory. He continued, “Don’t you think he would be able to recognize the use of wing-binders, considering his life? And the thing is...I’m worried about you. We all are, those of us who know, that is. Maybe just, start by sharing your wings with someone else. One person at a time, ya know? Adrien would be a good start. And who knows, it might get you out of this tower, too,” he added with a teasing tone. “I know you can hold a lot of weight on those wings of yours. Be a real Knight and consider giving him a Princess-carry, yeah?”

Marinette snorted and bumped him, causing him to stumble and laugh.

“Just sayin’, dudette! See ya!” And with that, he was out the window with the rest.

She considered his words as she walked over to Adrien where he had started building a pillow-and-blanket fort, just like he had said he would. He beamed from between two of the makeshift walls when he saw her.

“You’re really calm about still being stuck here, Adrien,” she noted softly.

“Are you kidding? This whole project has been the most fun since- well, in a while. Akuma or not, I like being here. Also, I just made a blanket fort. Blanket forts make everything better.” He grinned wide and went right back to building.

Marinette laughed and shook her head. “Fine, move over then. I’m going to help.”

Their fort was flimsy and fell over several times, but they both had to admit, it was a fun thing to do. It also revealed that the closet hid a trap door to a staircase leading downward.

“Who knew having fun would be the answer to our conundrum?” Marinette mused, amused.

“You sure do get caught up with a lot of Akumas that can have fun, huh?” Adrien jokes, causing her to chuckle and fluster at the realization.

“I mean, you're right, I guess. Nino, Nathaniel, Mylène- Everyone just wants to be happy. Makes me wonder what Hawkmoth is doing,” she trailed off, pondering on his own.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Adrien sat back, looking perplexed. “His power is so...big, but he does so little with it. I could swear he even stops himself from going too far. Why does he even attack Paris and ask for the Miraculous?”

“And what’s holding him back?” They were quiet for a little bit as their thoughts continued on silently, unknowing that they were both thinking along the same lines due to their masked partnership.

The blanket fort fell down on top of them, knocking them out of their thoughts and back into joint fits of giggles. Once they escaped their soft prison, they made their way to the window, looking out. they admired the view, but used it to remind themselves of their duties to do.

“Adrien?” He answered with a hum. “Thank you for speaking up, distracting everyone.”

He smiled gently and glanced at her. “When the wings came out? It was nothing. No one should be stared at like that if they don’t want to be.”

She wryly smiled back. “Thank you anyways. You’re a good friend and I, I trust you, a lot.”

His eyes went wide, “You do?”

She nodded, her smile growing in amusement. “Yeah, I do. Enough to tell you that I appreciate you keeping a secret you didn’t even know you just learned.”

“You mean-” he glanced at her Crane wings as they peaked out from behind her cape. She looked at them, too, noticing for the first time that they had a layer of armor on them as well. She smiled, stretching them out more.

“Yeah. Besides one person, I haven't told anyone about these in almost four years. I’m not exactly...proud of having wings. It’s hard to explain.”

“And you’re okay with me knowing?” He asked, his voice low in awe.

She smiled, a bit embarrassed, and nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

He beamed like she had just handed him the stars, and somehow, a twinkle in his eyes made it seem like she had already given him the sun and moon in the past, too. Just to get him to stop looking at her like that, she declared it was time to exit the Tower, and she scooped him up just the way Nino had suggested. After delivering him to safety, she ran off as fast as she possibly could. Not long later, Chat Blanc and Ladybug had Paris and Mylène back to normal.

[quickspinner]

MLValentines2k20 1. Candy

My Lukanette Month piece is coming later today, but I had some time, so here’s one I dashed off for the Miraculous Valentine’s Prompts.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had no plans for Valentine’s Day, and honestly, it was kind of a relief. No grand, complicated plans, no painfully heartfelt gifts to be lost or left unsigned or cause misunderstandings, no wracking her brain and her courage for the perfect confession.  Adrien was out of town so there wasn’t even the temptation to try, and she’d promised herself that she was done with that anyway.

Nope, as bittersweet as it was to see her friends paired up and excited about their plans, Marinette was actually relieved that she didn’t have any herself. She barely felt sad at all as she chatted with everyone about plans and gifts and what they were all doing, and brushed off all their concerns with an I’m fine that was so sincere that nobody questioned it.

At the end of the day Marinette was almost bowled over by the wave of students exiting the building. She managed to stay upright until the last couple of steps, when someone knocked her aside and her foot landed only half on the step. She pitched forward with a yelp, windmilling wildly, trying to keep her feet under her as she ran down the last couple of steps onto the sidewalk. One last whirl of her arms, and she managed to get her weight back on her heels. “Whew,” she sighed, bending over and putting her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

“Nice save.” 

Marinette jumped with a half-scream, and whirled around. “Luka! Oh, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he said, smiling apologetically. “Are you okay? I’m glad you didn’t fall, there were too many people in the way for me to help.”

“I’m fine,” Marinette giggled, straightening. “Just a little embarrassed. Can we just pretend you didn’t see that?”

“If you want to,” Luka chuckled. “Although I could see it wasn’t your fault. I guess everyone’s pretty eager to get on with their plans for the day.”

“Seems that way,” Marinette agreed. “What about you?” She waved at the heart shaped box in his hand. “Waiting for someone? Or did you have a secret admirer that left that for you?” There was a tiny thrill in her stomach that she tried to ignore—along with the edge of fear that came with it.

“Oh, no,” Luka said, looking down at the heart-shaped box in his hand. “I bought it for Juleka. It’s kind of a tradition.” 

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Marinette smiled. “How did that get started?”

To her surprise Luka reached up and rubbed the back of his neck in an uncomfortable gesture that just looked...wrong, when he did it. “It’s a long story—well, actually, it’s kind of a series of long and mostly embarrassing stories, but...let’s just say none of the Couffaines have very good luck with Valentine’s Day. So we figured if we were all going to end up slumped at the kitchen table eating ice cream out of the carton at the end of the day, we might as well just plan for it. For the last couple years, Valentine’s Day has turned into family movie night.” He shrugged slightly, dropping his hand. “It probably sounds stupid, I know, but it’s a thing now. I still like for Jules to feel at least a little special though and she loves these things,” he held up the box, “So I always get her one and walk her home and she gets first pick for the movie.” 

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Marinette sighed. “What a great idea! I think it’s awesome you all found a way to make Valentine’s work for you.” She rolled her eyes. “I sure know what you mean about having bad luck with it. Mine luck’s been terrible too.” 

Luka smiled sympathetically. “Any big plans this year?”

Marinette shrugged. “Not really. Mom and Dad are going out after the bakery closes, so I’ll probably be doing movies and hot chocolate myself.”

“Alone?” Luka asked, looking concerned.

“Alone, in my comfy pjs, without having to dress up for anyone or worry about impressing anyone and no one to hear me if I stutter and get my words mixed up.” She bumped her shoulder against his arm. “Or tease me about it.”

Luka winced. “I’m really sorry about that.” 

Marinette snorted. “It was a long time ago, you’ve long since made up for it. I’m just teasing you, honestly.” 

Luka started to say something but then looked up, behind her. “Hey Jules,” Luka smiled. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Marinette turned and smiled as Juleka came down the stairs. Juleka mumbled a thank you, accepted the chocolates, and punched her brother in the arm. 

“Yeah, love you too,” Luka chuckled, rubbing his arm. “You ready to go?” 

Juleka nodded. “Bye Marinette.”

“Bye! You two have fun!” Marinette waved.

The siblings got about two steps away before Luka paused, and then turned back. Coming back to Marinette, he slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small square gold box which he offered to her with a lopsided smile.

 “Happy Valentine’s Day, Marinette.”

Marinette blinked at him and then looked down at the box. She took it slowly, and looked up at Luka. She wasn’t sure but she kind of thought he was blushing slightly as he flashed her a quick grin before turning away and putting his hand on Juleka’s shoulder, nearly pushing her down the street with him.

Marinette looked back down at the box in her hand. She pulled off the little gold elastic holding it closed and opened it. Four little chocolates nestled there in cloth lining stamped with a high-quality brand name. Surely he hadn’t given her something he’d bought for his mother—but no. The small tag attached to the elastic had Marinette’s name on it in Luka’s handwriting. She blushed and closed the box, slipping the elastic back on and putting it carefully in her purse, where Tikki cooed over it and beamed up at her. 

Marinette got a text just as she arrived home, pushing through the bakery door. It was from Juleka. Luka said you’re hanging out alone tonight. You can come join our movie night if you want. Price of admittance is bakery snacks :)

Marinette smiled, and went to get a box. 

[i-guess-im-writing-today]

Day 1 - Ring

Guess who doesn’t know how to draw but wants to join in? Guess who also decided like 2 hours ago that she wanted to join in? That’s right this piece of trash! Anyway, I hope ya’ll like it. 

This is based on the enemies AU which I can’t find right now where they like each other in hero forms but hate each other in civilian form. Basically, the whole gum thing happened and Adrien didn’t apologize because he felt he did nothing wrong and Marinette hates him for that and Adrien hates her because she hates him for something he didn’t do and he just thinks she's a terrible person because of Chole. Tbh I don't remember exactly the au but that’s the basic idea if anyone knows who it was could you put it in the tags or message me?

Day: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19,            On Ao3

Chapter 1: Ring

"Has anyone seen my ring!?" Adrien screamed, running down the hallway and into the classroom.

Marinette rolled her eyes "Always the drama queen it's just a ring you don't have to blow my ears out,"

Marinette held no sympathy for him. The rich jerk probably got it for brushing his teeth or something stupid.

"Says you! My ears would bleed to death if you started gushing about your secret boyfriend again." He pretended to gag. "You must've scared him so bad he was forced to date a stalker like you. Anyways, can someone will a functioning human heart help me find my ring it's important." he scrounged around his bag as Rose, Nino, and a few others looked.

Marinette saw no point in telling him she could see it clearly in his gym bag. Let him look, she didn't owe him anything.

"As if you have any idea what that looks like Agreste," Marinette scoffed "what with the people you're around and I'll have you know he came to me something I'm sure you've never experienced."

"Ah yes, because being the top model in Paris for the most prestigious fashion designer doesn't get me any fame. No, that'll be ridiculous."

"And there's that famous Agreste ego. Just so you know, having your daddy give you a job isn't impressive. His successes aren't yours." Marinette bit her lip as the last words fell out. Okay so that was a bit harsh, but he did call her a crazy stalker. And last week he said that whoever her boyfriend was must be an idiot and no one was allowed to call her kitty an idiot, not even himself, so really she was just returning the favor.

Adrien went quiet, and for a moment, Marinette was scared she went too far. That is until he screamed that he found it and caused her ears to ring. She hissed the damn music Akuma from yesterday had increased her sensitivity to loud, annoying sounds and Adrien definitely fit the bill. How Nino could be friends with him was beyond her, but at least he refrained from talking about him when he was around her.

"Great now can you shut the hell up Agreste?" Marinette covered her ears and dug her head into Alya's shoulder.

Alya eyed her boyfriend, the only known Adrien whisperer that wasn't the epitome of a rich brat, to shut Agreste up.

"Girl, what's wrong?" She pet Marinette lightly on the head.

"Agreste is annoying," Marinette sighed when she didn't respond "and the techno guy from yesterday made me really sensitive,"

"Wasn't Ladybug's miraculous cure supposed to fix that? I don't find that very likely," Adrien butted clearly trying to get a rile out of her.

He knew she hated lying and the implication was downright rude, especially considering she had tried to save him from Lila! A favor she might add he repaid with telling her to let the liar be. Should've known people like them would stick together, it killed her that the only person who knew other than her was him of all people. God, she wished she would've recorded his holier than thou speech it was infuriating.

"It's none of your business Agreste," she muttered, keeping her response level.

Adrien looked like he was about to retort when Nino grabbed his shoulder with a soft no bro.

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

"My lady!" Chat exclaimed running to her, the usual rose in his hand.

Ladybug winced "A little softer, kitty,"

Chat slowed down and lowered his voice, "What's wrong bug?"

"Nothing, my ears are still ringing a bit from the Akuma from yesterday," she grabbed the rose and held it up in between them, "I thought I said I didn't need any more flowers, kitten," she booped his nose playfully.

"I thought your miraculous ladybug cure fixed everything?" Chat cupped her ears intimately.

Despite having gone out for a few months already, she still felt her face flush. Chat Noir she had learned quite big on physical affection, never missing out on an excuse to touch or hold her. Even the little touches sent her heart on fire. The media drastically underestimated the power of a nose nuzzles, or a hand on the small of her back had. She was melting.

"My lady?" Chat Noir murmured to get her attention again.

"Oh, umm," Ladybug snapped out of her daze, "Tikki says it might have to do with being Ladybug. She isn't really sure, but she told me that no one else should be having that problem."

"No one else!?" Chat perked up at that raising his voice "oh I'm so sorry milady,"

"It's ok minou and yeah it should be fine. Although today I was really annoyed at a boy in class who didn't believe me and kept talking loudly. He had no problem giving me a hard time!"

"A boy in your class?"

"Yeah, he's the guy you said you would fight for me last time," Ladybug giggled "I can imagine what that pretty boy would do if you went up to him. I bet he'd piss his designer pants" her giggle turned into a laugh

Chat seemed to stall a minute "You think he's pretty?"

"Aww, kitty you know I love you, besides I think he'd rather swallow an elephant than willingly come near me,"

"I-uh he..." Chat lipped his lips looking for the words

"Needs better taste? Is gonna hear from you? Something else mildly threatening?" Ladybug smiled "As long as you like me I don't need his approval,"

"What umm...what was he saying when he was loud?" Chat's worried look concerned her.

"He was looking for his ring."

[pontificalandwarlike]

|| yOU KNOW WHAT I’M NOT DONE TALKING ABOUT THIS and this time i’m making a proper post. cleaned up & extended version of my tags on this gifset below, and yes i’m putting this in my meta tag you can’t stop me i do what i want. read with gifset for maximum effect

i’m still goddamn emotional about this and i’m not even going to pretend to be otherwise. there’s so much going on here and every single bit of it makes me emotional.

Listen okay let’s start with that first gif. I’ve watched it like fifty time on repeat and I just. The way that guardsman? soldier? spits out shoot him where he stands, so full of disdain and even hatred –– I know that’s a brick line but I don’t believe I ever really understood the full impact of it until now. He doesn’t have to say that ; both the soldiers and enjolras already understand that this interaction will only end one way, and it’s with enjolras dead against the wall. But he does anyway, and the wording of it –– right here, right now, where he stands –– combined with the way he obviously spits his words ( see the way his lip curls and his nose wrinkles as he says stands, visible even as gif, even without hearing the way he says it )... there’s a certain cruelty to it, a degree of emotional violence that doesn’t have to be there. This small interaction is a microcosm, a symbolic representation of the might of the regime trampling the revolution –– the soldiers, armed to the teeth and vastly greater in number, spitting disdain against enjolras, just one man, one very young man, beaten down and dirtied and cornered and empty-handed with no weapons. And enjolras’s face, god, his face. I take back every bad thing I said about joseph quinn as enjolras, this one look is everything. He’s defiant and he’s angry and rpoud, as he should be ! but he’s also physically beaten down and tired –– panting, leaned against the wall with his hands braced against his knees ; not to mention the emotional weariness as well, the toll of seeing more blood and death in the last twenty-four hours than anyone ever should have to, the toll of watching all of his friends die in front of him, of shoring himself up on so much hope and certainty only to watch the very country he loves and tried so hard to elevate betray him and leave him to die. and yes he’s ready to die, of course he’s ready to die, he’s stared death in the face and refused to blink since that first moment he decided to ally himself to this cause –– but there’s a sort of relief too, a different sort of readiness to die, to leave this world where his revolution failed and all his friends are already gone. and he’s scared too, of course he’s scared, for all that he looks marble and pretends to be marble and tries so hard to make himself marble, he’s only human and twenty-six at the end of the day, of course he’s scared.

OOF okay that’s long enough, let’s move on to gif 2. here he is, grantaire himself, the unlikely saviour. not literally, of course not, he’s not here to miraculously valjean enjolras to safety –– but he is here to save enjolras from something else : from having to face this alone. There’s a profound loneliness to dying alone, to being the last survivor and knowing that everyone else is dead and you’ll be dead soon, too. Facing down death with pride –– summoning up the audacity of a fine death –– is hard enough, but goddammit it’s even harder to do it alone, with no one at your side and no one to catch you when you inevitably fall. but here’s grantaire, perhaps the last person enjolras would have expected, stumbling into a death that does not have to be his just so he can stand by enjolras’s side. Just !!! think about this for a moment. Grantaire has woken up, but no one else has noticed him yet. It’s not inconceivable that he could hide or run, and never be caught, and spare himself the terror and the pain of dying in service of a cause he never quite believed in, a cause he now knows for certain is doomed and may well be forgotten tomorrow morning. But then he looks up and his friends are in danger, and enjolras is about to die, and so he walks in with clear eyes and clear head and says me too. God! Can you imagine? Shoot him where he stands. Me too. And I love the way the camera focuses on enjolras here, not the guards –– because enjolras is what matters, not the soldiers, not the guns, not the inevitable and rapidly impending death.

and in the third gif, the grantaire looks like he’s about to cry, but he’s here, goddammit, he’s standing by enjolras’s side and saying to hell with you all to everything and everyone else. long live the republic, he says, but we all know he’s not doing this for the republic and it couldn’t be any clearer than the way he looks at enjolras and only enjolras, walks right up to his side and doesn’t even spare a glance at all the guns pointed at them and very much ready to kill them in a few moments. long live the republic, he says, but what he really means is long live enjolras, long live their friends, long live all the crazy idealistic men like them, long live their faith and their hope and even the idealism he spent all the rest of the novel/series cynically denying. and most of all, long live friendship, long live the only thing that has ever mattered to him, the only thing that can save enjolras right now, the only thing that can save grantaire right now. and in face of that faith, that declaration of love –– and yes, it is love ( even if you don’t have your shipper glasses on ), deeply profound and revering love, fraternity between brothers in arms at the darkest of hours –– enjolras stands up straighter. enjolras, too, doesn’t look anywhere but at grantaire. enjolras, too, doesn’t have any attention to spare for the guns and the soldiers. and it’s remarkable, really, how long this scene goes without ever panning back to the soldiers. they’re about to die, they know that, we know that, but somehow it’s not the most important thing right now.

And the fourth gif –– we finally get a clear look at enjolras’s expression, and it wounds me deeply. that glance, the way his eyes move just a little, that disbelief and surprise and underneath it all, a touch of hope and joy that he doesn’t have to face this alone. and yes, his beloved revolution just gained a supporter, but more importantly enjolras just gained a friend –– and not just any friend, but a friend of the most devoted sort, the kind of friend who will see him through the end (literally). and he can’t quite believe it, can’t quite believe that there’s someone else here by his side, can’t quite believe that it’s grantaire by his side. it’s grantaire that looks towards the soldiers first, not enjolras. grantaire looks up, looks straight at their violent deaths ready to strike, and he’s scared, god, you can see in his face just how terrified he is, but he doesn’t even flinch away. he straightens. he squares his shoulders. he plants his feet next to enjolras anyway. and enjolras spends another moment staring at grantaire, thinking is this real, thinking are you sure about this, thinking i was wrong and thank you.

I don’t have much to say about gif five except to say that i really love quinnjolras’s profile, here. and the way his nose twitches just a little, that touch of disdain for their offer of a blindfold –– fantastic. but gif six, oh lordy, gif six. I piss on your blindfold, grantaire says, and this might just be my favourite line of dialogue in this entire series. it’s so in character for grantaire, that irreverence right until the end, and i think the refusal of the blindfold is even more powerful coming from grantaire instead of enjolras. we know enjolras will refuse the blindfold –– that’s never in question. of course he will, he’s enjolras. but coming from grantaire, it’s all the more proof of that transformation in his final moments, the impossible infinite courage that comes from his profound devotion to enjolras, to friendship.

and in gif seven, we get to see enjolras smile for a moment, his lips twitching like he can’t quite help himself from laughing at grantaire’s words. it’s the marble broken down to be human, even including laughing at loud irreverence. and again, grantaire’s scared, of course he is, he has every reason and every right to be, but he’s still here and that’s what matters. and we finally pan back to the soldiers, to the guns being lowered and aimed.

and then in gif eight –– the (in)famous hand hold, yes, at last, and in a way that feels organic and real. it’s as romantic as you want or don’t want it to be ; it’s friendship, it’s brotherhood, it’s love however you want to define it, it’s love beyond definition, it’s that impossible insurmountable bond of two people facing down death side-by-side. it’s not one person reaching for the other’s hand, it’s mutual, it’s spontaneous, and it’s a physical connection to mirror the emotional connection they share in this moment. and then the way grantaire starts laughing, and enjolras does too a heartbeat later. that’s not a happy sort of laughter, and we all know it. it’s a sort of gallows humor in the face of death, first and foremost, that hysterical sort of laughter where you can’t help but laugh because you can’t quite believe this is actually real and there’s no other way for that emotion to be expressed. but there’s also an element of giddiness and profound exhilaration, a sort of yes we’re really doing this !!!! fuck history, fuck fate, fuck the guard, fuck death and blood and dying and pain –– they’re doing this and they’re doing this together. it’s the same kind of laughter you might have when trying to pull off some impossible project or improbable hijinks with a friend, that disbelieving sort of laughter with a partner-in-crime, that are we really doing this oh my god yes we’re really doing this feeling of terror and exhilaration and profound irreversible connection with each other. except the isn’t a prank or a joke, this is revolution and this is death.

and so –– gif nine –– the shots go off at last. i think it’s really interesting that we zoom out at this point, that we don’t get to see enjolras and grantaire die in close up, that all we get is the soldiers in silhouette and the two of them in the backdrop against the wall. first of all, it highlights just how much of a firing squad they’re facing, just how much of an execution it is. so what if they’re not blindfolded and tied to posts –– they’re cornered, they’re up against a wall, and there’s a literal line of soldiers ( faceless, in shadow and in silhouette ) ready to shoot them down. and there’s really something to be said for the way the take aim and the fire bookends their laughter. they start to laugh but they never get to finish ; this smile was not ended when the report resounded. that contrast between sudden overwhelming violence and giddy youthful laughter of companionship. it highlights the tragedy of their deaths, i think –– the tragedy of all their deaths, all of les amis, everyone on this barricade, and by extension every young and hopeful soul on every barricade throughout history. they are full of hope ; they are full of laughter ; they are full of companionship and fraternity for each other ; they live with joy, and they fight with hope, and they face down death with pride –– and they die. just like that ; right there ; right then ; they die. midway through a laugh cut short like their lives themselves were –– they die. there’s something profoundly beautiful and profoundly tragic about that laughter in the midst of violence and threat and inevitable death, of that laughter that never gets to conclude.

and so, at last, in the final gif –– we never get to see their faces again. i really thought, for a moment, that we might get an enjolras upright, but i suppose that’s too mucho hope for. we still get grantaire struck at his feet, and enjolras falling onto him. i doubt it was deliberate but i’m still emotional over the fact that even in death, grantaire is still supporting and elevating enjolras, that this dynamic –– the afterthought, the and, the pylades that only ever follows orestes –– continues even to the very end.

god. i’m emotional. damn you andrew davies for making me emotional about this and write two thousand goddamn words about it. hey @wiseinlove clio i did it it only took like two hours

[luceat-eis]

TW: self harm mention

having been on tumblr for a while (since the summer before my freshman year of HS) I feel obligated to periodically shout updates on my life into the void, even if nobody is listening to them.

so I got into nursing school!! it’s really tough thus far and I’m trying to keep from losing motivation but there’s something about achieving what I’ve been working toward for 2.5 years now that’s unfortunately causing me to lose steam. and idk, but the fact that I’ll be in school an extra year is kind of getting under my skin—I’ve always been someone who did things In The Proper Timeframe Of Doing Them just because of the family I grew up in or maybe just the fact that I’m naturally anal retentive about stuff like that. idk. also clinicals??? scare the PISS out of me but it’s getting better.

additionally for the first time in my life I can honestly say... I love myself. I love how I look, I love my body, and I think I am beautiful. whether anyone else does? idk but I’m That Bitch. I’m intelligent, I make myself laugh even if nobody else does, I have a huge heart and im hugely empathetic. I am a good person and even when I’m not I still want to be better and that’s part of being human. and I think this confidence I’m finding in myself for the first time has a lot to do with me keeping my father at a distance for the time being. he was always the main voice of criticism toward my appearance when I was in that critical developmental period in childhood, and just the person that I was so obviously repelled him unless/until I started becoming more of who he wanted me to be. the deal is... I am chubby. I was born with an underactive thyroid. it is what it is and either way, weight fluctuates. if I have clothes that fit and I am healthy, I am happy with my body. I am a sensitive person and that is not weakness, it is strength. and even on days when it’s hard to look at myself in the mirror and see someone extraordinary looking back at me, I’m starting to look at it as an opportunity to stick a big ol middle finger at my father’s voice in my head picking me apart and sending me down a spiral. he doesn’t get to have that power over me anymore.

my dad is not going to get better. he’s not. he is not going to one day miraculously stand up and walk freely, his arm is not going to start working again, he will never get back the parts of his mind that he lost when he had his stroke. there will always be missing pieces, and because of his diminished mental capacity I may never be able to confront him and get closure for all the pain he put me through. and those are all direct consequences of the choices he made for not only himself but for the rest of this family. he made decisions that, for me, have resulted in wounds staying open forever and I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive him for that. in a way him getting sick exposed how I am still hugely not healed from his parenting when I was little and even after that, no matter how much I wanted to pretend it away as I got older. in the year before he was sick we were closer than we had ever been but our relationship was still on thin ice and I willfully ignored it because I just... wanted a dad, with no strings, with no past. being around him now feels a lot like how I imagine it would feel to have a loved one with dementia: they’re standing in front of you, and it’s them but it’s just... not right. it’s off. they are who they have always been but now they’re someone else, and you grieve them while their ghost stands right in front of you. it’s incredibly hard to be around him and watch everyone take care of him and humor him and try to make him happy when his is the voice I hear in my head calling me a moron whenever I do something wrong. I just know this side of him that I’m glad very few others have had the chance to know. but the thing is, regardless of the circumstances, I am a twenty year old young woman and I can choose how much I want my father in my life. he should have thought about that more because even if nobody else wants to hold him responsible for his actions, I sure as hell will. either way, I’m going to have to heal myself and I don’t need his blessing or his validation.

and here’s the part that I don’t want to talk about because I don’t want to worry anyone (bold of me to assume that anyone would worry about me honestly), but I feel like I need to because it’s been bothering me and I need it off my chest and in the open. I have generally been in a better mental place lately, like I said. certainly a better place than I was in when I joined tumblr as a 14 year old. so I cannot understand why I’m experiencing such strong self harm urges lately. I’ve always had them since I started because obviously they never really go away, which is normal, but for the last month or so it’s been on my mind even more than usual. I’ve gotten close a few times and have looked through the SH tag and images but never relapsed and it’s not even days where anything particularly bad or stressful happens. it’s just out of boredom. I’m not scared for my safety and I don’t want anyone else to be, which is why I don’t want to say anything and every time I try talking about it I back out because I don’t want to get that deep with anyone. I don’t want anyone else to feel like they need to be monitoring me or keeping tabs on me to make sure I don’t relapse because that’s my responsibility and I’m managing perfectly well with it. I’ve lost count of how long it’s been since the last time, although I might have relapsed over the summer last year but it wasn’t all that significant because it was an isolated incident. i don’t really remember much about it. idk it’s just..... something I’ve been experiencing lately more than usual.

so anyway that’s my life right now. here’s pictures of my grown up self I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (wow I like mirror selfies a lot???)

[villainousvillains]

Loki x Reader - There’s Always More

Requested by Anon: 💚💚 love the blog darling! could you maybe do a loki oneshot where the reader had fallen in love with Loki, but never told him? so loki goes on and gets a girlfriend, introduces her to everyone and the reader is just devastated? and maybe the reader ends up confessing her love for loki during a screaming match they have.

A/N: I’m trying to get back into the writing groove, sorry for taking so long to get something out. I blame summer fever. Hope this is more satisfactory that I think it is lol.

For the fourth time, Loki took the leftover lasagna out of the microwave, touched it, then put it back in.

“You’re taking forever,” I stated, staring at him as I sat on the stool at the counter. I propped my chin in my right hand, annoyed yet entertained by the god who couldn’t figure out the microwave.

“It’s still cold,” Loki muttered, putting a few more seconds on the microwave.

“Then try putting more than…” I leaned over to see the time he had inputted, “ten seconds on at a time.”

“I don’t want to burn it,” Loki said as if he were stating the obvious. I smiled.

“Right. We don’t want another popcorn incident, do we?” I teased.

Loki narrowed his eyes and shook his head at my audacity to speak of such a thing. It was times likes these that overwhelmed me with feelings and made me want to confess everything. Sadly, however, that was not how I dealt with these things. My plan was usually to ignore the feelings until I was over 100% positive the other person felt the same way. Sure, the plan had its faults, but that was how I chose to live my life.

“You’re going to be around tonight, aren’t you?” Loki asked, taking his food out again.

My heart skipped a beat, but I ignored it. “Yeah. Why?”

Loki shrugged. “I just want you to meet someone.”

I nodded, not understanding what that meant at all. That wasn’t really what I expected him to say, but that could still be good, right?

Nope. Not right. Very wrong, I soon learned. Loki had disappeared all day which was something that did happen once and a while, but it had been happening more often lately which both concerned and aggravated me.

He finally showed back up a little before dinner along with the person I assumed he wanted me to meet. All of my fears resurfaced when he walked in with a beautiful girl. Loki didn’t have an arm around her or anything, but it was obvious he was introducing her to everyone as his girlfriend.

His girlfriend. I felt sick.

Not sad, or angry, or… some other negative emotion. Just… kind of sick. I dealt with this by doing the only thing I knew how to do. I allowed a low groan to rumble through my throat and squeezed my eyes shut for half a second before I smiled and walked on over to introduce myself.

And afterwards, I ran to the gym.

“Oh my god!” I grunted, fists clenched. I frantically looked around for some boxing gloves. I had never boxed before, but Steve would do it when he was mad, so I thought I’d give it a whirl. I kept my teeth clenched as I shoved my hands into the gloves.

I would fluctuate between being mad for thinking I even had a chance with Loki, then sad for the same reason. I kept trying to sort out my emotions because that always seemed to help me, but then I realized I couldn’t which only made me angrier.

“You’re really bad at that,” a voice said behind me. I knew who it was immediately and let out a sigh as my hands dropped to my side.

“I know,” I replied, keeping my tone even and calm. I kept my eyes down as I turned around and pulled the gloves off. “Those are… sweaty,” I muttered.

“Are you okay?” Loki asked. “I’ve never seen you… box before.” He walked over to me, a small smile playing on his lips. He really had no idea. I almost went along with it. It would have been easier to pretend I was annoyed by some other avenger and then we could just go back to normal, joking around with each other and me ignoring everything I felt. But I didn’t want to. Not anymore. It was exhausting.

“I thought I’d try it. Steve seems to enjoy it.”

“He also enjoys five hour workouts and going to bed at 7:00.”

I was supposed to laugh, I know, but I kept my straight face. I looked at the ground as my elbows sat on my knees and hands were clasped.

“Do you not like Isabel?”

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “No, of course not. I like her.” I cleared my throat. “Where did you… where did you meet her again?” Every word I tried to speak hurt so much.

“That movie I went to with Thor,” he replied, the playful smile leaving his face, replacing it with a truly concerned one. He could tell from my tone.

“Right. When I was sick.”

“Yes.”

There was silence for a few seconds. Loki looked around the room while I focused my gaze on the floor.

“So you’re not going to tell me what’s wrong? That usually means it’s my fault.”

I hesitated and looked up at him. “It is.”

“Oh. I see.”

“You see?” I snapped out of my daze and stood up so I wouldn’t have to break my neck trying to see his face. “I highly doubt that you see.”

“You like my new girlfriend just fine, but you’re jealous,” he said triumphantly as if he had solved the most difficult of puzzles. I felt a fire in my stomach.

“I’m sorry,” I said loudly and overdramatically, “What?”

“You are jealous because I may not be spending as much time with you and you-”

“Oh my god!” I shouted. “So many things wrong with everything you just said!” Loki clamped his mouth shut. “Don’t say I’m jealous of anyone ever because that is a petty emotion that only makes you feel like you have some sort of power of me or some dumb shit like that-”

“Wait, Y/n I didn’t-”

“No!” My finger sprung into his face to stop him from talking. “You just don’t understand, and I’m tired of you guessing the wrong thing.”

Loki scoffed and threw his arms out. “Then what am I supposed to do? You won’t tell me what’s wrong! You must know you’re being difficult.”

I almost exploded again, but I instead unclenched my fists and rubbed my hands over my face. “You’re right,” I said, my voice muffled by my fingers. I let out a loud sigh and sat back down on the bench. “I’m sorry.”

Loki shook his head, confused by my outbursts and seemingly random mood swings then sat beside me. “Please tell me.”

“Okay.” I sighed yet again. Maybe if I sighed enough I would get dizzy and pass out. “It is about Isabel.”

“You don’t like her. I knew it,” Loki said firmly, making a fist.

“No!” I groaned with exasperation.

“What else could it be? You obviously-”

“It’s not that I don’t like your girlfriend, it’s that I don’t want you to have one!” I shouted, throwing my arms out dramatically. I just ripped it off. Ripped it off like a band-aid.

Loki’s eyes narrowed and I felt like he was looking through me. I felt judged, vulnerable, stupid. Stupid for feeling these things which wasn’t how it was supposed to work, but that’s just how messed I am.

“What do you mean?” he asked. I knew the look on his face. I knew exactly what he was doing. He had a suspicion and he was going to keep asking questions until he knew for sure in the most painful way possible.

I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t be able to see how much of an idiot I was going to look like. “I mean, I don’t want you to have a girlfriend unless it’s me.”

As soon as it came out of my mouth, I felt gross and terrible. It was because of how vulnerable I was making myself. I abruptly stood up and walked to the complete other side of the room, craving distance between us.

“Why are you- are you going somewhere?” Loki called, standing up. He started to walk toward me.

“No, no. Just talk from over there. I need distance.”

The sound of Loki’s snicker traveled through the air. “You’re so strange.”

I crossed my arms and shrugged.

“I didn’t know,” he said after I didn’t respond.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?”

I hesitated. I knew why, but how to phrase it? Because I was a coward? Because I was too emotionally insecure? Because I wanted him to just miraculously figure it out on his own?

“I… I was just scared. I think. I wasn’t sure how you’d respond and you know I’m not good at communicating emotions and stuff,” I finally said.

“That is true.”

I gave in to a small smile. A huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

“Did you know that Isabel doesn’t like Reese’s?” Loki asked. I looked at him from across the room to the best of my ability and shook my head a little. “I don’t think I can be with someone who doesn’t like Reese’s. I may have to break up with her.”

I furrowed my brows even more, wondering if I was understanding him right.

“On an unrelated note,” he continued, now pacing the perimeter of the room. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“I, um, yeah of course… I don’t-”

“I can’t quite hear you,” he interrupted, and midway through the sentence, the figure across the room faded away in a green mist. My breath caught in my throat and I frantically turned around, trying to find his true form. I held back a frightened squeal when I turned right into his chest, then I took a step back. “Well? Are you free?” He repeated, looking down on me.

I looked into his dark eyes, glanced at his playful smile, and took a peek at his slightly disheveled hair that he obviously didn’t know about or else he would have fixed it by now.

I loved him so much.

“I’m always free for you, you know that,” I told him casually.

“Your tone and your gaze do not match,” he replied. He was on to me. “Why do I feel there’s more you’re not telling me?”

A brief surge of courage took over and in one swift motion I closed the small gap between us and connected my lips to his. It was passionate and fast, my sensations overwhelmed before I pulled away once my brain caught up to my heart. Loki’s had had made its way to my neck and he held me close as we looked into each other’s eyes, taking in every fleck of color, every slight movement. I took in a short breath so I would be able to get the words I wanted to say out.

“Because…” I breathed, “there is.”

TAGGED:

@sarahivi @ilvermornyqueen @gladerb5 @tbetz0341 @1800-fight-me @nowitsyourturntocry @lokilover2000 @emergenciesstory @savemealoevera @frostymoon11 @stayfrosty-royalsunshine @scarred-neptinite @phonegalhelp @cruisingheightswithdragons @lusty-loki @ourdeliciousfoxcollector

[raspberry-starship]

Start reading the series here.

Masterlist for this book is here.

Read by scrolling up the tag here.

DAY TWO OF THE INCURSION 11:47 AM

Sam lay completely still. His eyes were just slightly glassy, though it had been a long while since he’d blinked. Everything was frozen, like the woods before dawn. Then, out of the silence, his lungs expanded.

He gasped, sitting upright. His hand flew to his neck, looking for the hole he’d felt a rabid vampire tear in his skin. He found no wound, only dried blood from a seemingly nonexistent injury. He frowned and glanced to his left, finding a man standing there, half-hidden by shadow.

Sam couldn’t help but flinch slightly from the start it gave him to see a person there. A split second after his scare, his brain caught up with his eyes. Sam’s whole body went rigid, and his heart started hammering in his chest.

“Boo.” Lucifer grinned, “Heya, Sammy.”

“No.” Sam breathed, brow twitching.

“Yeah.” Lucifer shrugged before he began pacing slowly closer to Sam. “I mean, you could do the whole pinch yourself, rub your eyes thing, or you could put on your big boy pants and just, you know, cut right to the realization that, yeah, it’s me.”

“You’re here, you…” Sam frowned, remembering his miraculously un-injured throat. His face went slack, “You brought me back.”

“I did.” Lucifer nodded smugly, “You’re welcome.”

Sam winced in disgust at that, “Why?”

“I won’t get into that.” Lucifer replied, folding his hands in front of him.

Sam blinked a couple times, still trying to orient himself after returning from the dead. A moment passed, and then he remembered that Lucifer being there wasn’t only bad for his emotional well-being, but also for the survival of his whole family.

“The rift… Rowena… Sadie…” Sam murmured, getting himself a little more pulled together now that he was angry.

“So that’s her name.” Lucifer touched his chin thoughtfully, “The big tart wouldn’t talk to me. No matter.”

Sam’s face twinged at the thought of Lucifer even speaking at Sadie; any interaction between those two parties, even just conceptual, made his skin crawl.

Lucifer let out a chuckle, “Sammy, you’ve gotta tell me which top-model-reject support group you find that girl in and where I can find it so I can destroy every, other, one, like her!”

Sam’s body tensed again at this, right when he had been beginning to relax a little; he then remembered that if Lucifer was here, then he must have killed her—that’s why he wanted to kill “the rest”. Lucifer saw this in his eyes and preemptively replied to the unasked question.

“Oh, believe me, I tried my best, but no, she just…” He pointed to the scar on his face that Sam had been planning on addressing later, “Gave me a little present.”

Sam’s jaw tensed.

“It’s funny. You know, usually, I’d be able to heal right up, but your girl, she’s got something in her that can cut an archangel.” Lucifer wagged a finger, “Haven’t ever seen one of them conduits in the wild before. All the ones I’ve met were downstairs. In Hell. Most of ‘em end up there, you know, and there, they don’t have access to their power anymore. But, here, your girl does, doesn’t she?”

Sam swallowed tensely, Lucifer seeming quite at ease.

“She just did it without any warning, too!” He shook his head, “No manners.”

Sam’s nose twitched, and he spoke through his teeth, “Oh, well, I’m sure it was well-deserved.”

“Oh yeah?” Lucifer gave him a mocking smile, “You’re lucky that she went down after only two throws into the wall because, I’m telling you right now, I could’ve really gone on tossing her around for hours—”

“—Shut up.” Sam said through his teeth, which Lucifer ignored, continuing on reverently.

“You should’a heard the sound when her head smacked into that bookcase, Sammy—”

“—Shut. up.”

“—And the little noises she made, all pitiful and in pain—!”

“—Shut up!” Sam snapped, a lot more forcefully this time. Lucifer raised his hands in surrender, pretending to take his warning very seriously. He dropped his hands and continued.

“And Rowena, she’s okay. I mean, I was gonna kill her, but she blasted me here before I had a chance to, so…” Lucifer wandered around the dark cave for a moment, “It’s great! I get it, self-defense! But I was coming here anyway.”

“But… we drained you.” Sam spoke slowly.

“So, how did I have the juice to pull off my little Lazarus trick?” Lucifer smirked like a child after doing a prank, “Uh, that’s a long story. But I was basically tracking you here, and then I came across a handful of Michael's angels, and I… ate them.” He paused to consider his previous comment then amended, “I guess it’s not really a long story, is it?”

“What do you want?”

“What do I want? I want what everyone wants.” Lucifer shrugged, “I want a personal, signed apology from Pop, I want rerun-free, year-round episodes of Drag Race.”

“Yeah, got it. Okay. Right.” Sam nodded once, his whole being tense, “We’re done here.”

“Oh, you’re going?” Lucifer held up a flashlight with a smirk, “Here, it’s dark out there.”

Sam’s nose wrinkled in confusion, but he took the flashlight anyways before turning away. Upon flipping it on, however, he came across more mutant monsters—at least twenty-five—snapping and snarling at him. Sam’s feet shuffled to a halt.

“Yeah. They’re sort of all over there and I’m holding them back.” Lucifer meandered closer to Sam, pulling a hand out of his pocket to hold beside him. “They’re just waiting for a little snap of the fingers, but I didn’t want them flooding in here and eating you again. Not until after we finished our convo.”

Sam’s heart sank into his stomach. In the face of so much he couldn’t control, anger began bubbling up inside of him like a pot long forgotten on a high heat.

“What do you want?!” Sam bellowed, on the verge of absolutely losing his cool.

“I want what you already have. A relationship with my son.” Lucifer said calmly, “There was a time that I would, you know, just grab him. But I’ve grown.”

“Yeah. sure.” Sam huffed out, growing more and more furious with each passing second.

“I have, Samuel.” Lucifer put a hand on his shoulder, and Sam resisted the urge to cringe away, “I want my son. And you’re gonna help me.”

Surely there was a way Sam could get himself out of this—some way to trick the Devil. “How?”

“Well, I don’t feel like he’ll give me a chance unless I come bearing gifts.” Lucifer smirked and pointed at him, “That’s you.”

He took a step closer and Sam shrunk away instinctively, clearly not on board with this plan. Lucifer shuffled to a halt and sighed exasperatedly.

“Look, Sammy, I’m not asking you to like it, or to like me. All I’m asking is that you acknowledge the truth: I was the one who brought you back to life, and I was the one who lifted you from the darkness and into the light, okay?” He shrugged, “Apocalypse World, Michael’s armies—you really think you and your family can handle that stuff alone? You need me.”

Sam swallowed tensely. “And what if I say no?”

“All right.” Lucifer took a breath, walking closer. This time, Sam stayed still. “Let me just make this really, really, really easy—easy enough for you to understand, Sammy. I’m getting to Jack, one way or the other. The only question is, you coming with?”

Sam swallowed tensely.

“Or you can try dealing that.” Lucifer nodded to the rabid monsters. When Sam turned back to him, Lucifer finished with a sickly smug smirk. “Your move, champ.”

After that, it didn’t seem like there was much of a choice.

Immediately, Sam began growing very tired of his extended one-on-one time with Lucifer. They’d gotten out of the subway tunnels fifteen minutes earlier—no problems from the monsters, easily kept at bay by Lucifer—and at least the fresh air helped settle Sam’s uneasy stomach. Lucifer talked incessantly, no matter what Sam said or ignored.

“So, where did you find the little conduit, back there?” Lucifer began, skipping a couple steps to walk beside Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Brown-haired girl!” Lucifer sang, smirking at Sam’s profile. “Big lady with the blue eyes and the bad manners.”

Sam glanced at him out the corner of his eye, and then faced forwards again.

“Ugh, I hate having to remember the unimportant characters’ names.” Lucifer sighed, then snapping his fingers a couple times as he tried to remember.

Sam’s body stiffened in a Pavlovian response to each of the snaps, his subconscious preparing for the torture it assumed would be coming next.

“Uh… what was it?” Lucifer raised his hand, snapping one last time, “Sadie!”

The cord of muscle attached to Sam’s jaw jutted out as he clenched his teeth. Even her name sounded wrong coming out of his mouth.

“I guess it makes sense that you two would find each other.” Lucifer stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Freaks beget freaks, right?”

Again, Sam said nothing, just forced himself to swallow. He knew that Lucifer was trying to get a rise out of him. He knew that Lucifer had all the power here. He knew that Lucifer relished in the fear he inflicted. Sam knew it all and he was terrified. Nothing in the multi-verse would ever make him feel safe again, but right now, he felt more unstable than he had in a long time. It turns out being around one’s abuser can do that to a person.

“What, nothing?” Lucifer pouted, “Sammy! How you disappoint me.”

Sam rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to stay calm, and soon this would all be over.

“Well, you know how I feel about your kind—humans.” Lucifer wrinkled his nose, “So slimy and powerless. But, I will say: she was cute.”

The hand Sam had gripping his backpack strap tightened.

“She’d probably put up a bit more of a fight than I’d like.” Lucifer continued musing aloud, “And you know, she isn’t the thinnest thing on the planet. That with her height, and well, a guy might get crushed!”

Though this was a rather vanilla line of taunting, Sam couldn’t help the large part of him that really, really hated it. Belittling people on that level was low, even for Lucifer—he was really pulling at straws in an effort to get a rise out of Sam. However, this was actually reassuring in a way, seeing as that meant he hadn’t gotten to know Sadie in a way that gave him any other ammunition.

“I get why you didn’t bring her along.” Lucifer plucked a leaf off a passing tree before dropping it into the breeze, “I mean, you don’t have the greatest history with women, and I don’t know that the uh, giantess back there would be able to hack it around here.”

Sam hated this. He hated every part of it. Everything—the place, the company, the subject of conversation—everything. He hated feeling this helpless.

“You know she’s one of the last of her kind?” Lucifer commented idly, “Maybe even the last.”

This caught Sam’s attention, and without thinking, he looked over at Lucifer. Remembering he was supposed to be ignoring him, Sam turned away again, scowling at himself, but it was too late—Lucifer knew he’d caught onto something.

“If I remember correctly, the little uh, failed mutations like your lady-long-legs back there, were all wiped out by the witches.” Lucifer stuffed his hands into his pockets, “You wanna know why?”

Sam swallowed thickly. He did want to know—he really wanted to know.

“Oh, it’s fine, I know you do.” Lucifer said smugly, “There are lots of ‘em burning in the pit, you know.”

Sam forced his eyes to stay on the path in front of them.

“Once they get the taste—the first taste of that high,” Lucifer spoke with an intense amount of drama, “you know what happens? They keep going.”

This had the effect of making Sam’s brow twitch, but still, he didn’t look at the devil.

“They’ve just gotta get their fix.” Lucifer taunted, “No matter the consequences. No matter who gets hurt.”

Sadie wouldn’t. She would never, and Sam knew because she never used her powers. Well, except now she’d used them on Lucifer hadn’t she? She’d cut his face, and maybe it was in self-defense, but Lucifer made it sound like he’d succeeded in getting her angry. She was usually so good at staying level, but now she was becoming lax, all of the sudden? Was this only the beginning?

“It makes them feel strong, too.” Lucifer glanced over at Sam out of his periphery, “Startin’ to sound familiar, Sammy?”

Lucifer waited but only watched as Sam swallowed and managed to keep things tamped down.

“It also makes them a bit un-killable but only for a little while.” Lucifer sighed, “I mean, I could hurt her—and I did—but once she’s gotten that rush, the power sustains her. It’s a real pain in the ass, especially for the witches, I heard. ‘Said they were a ‘danger to the people.’”

A danger to the people? Sam’s brow twitched unconsciously.

“And you know, it might not happen now, or anytime soon, but one day,” Lucifer glanced over at him, “someone’s gonna have to put her down.” Lucifer paused, smirking, “You got the balls for that, Sammy? Well, probably not—you’d have to grow some in the first place.”

Sam’s jaw clenched and he started walking a bit faster. They should be at the camp soon—then he wouldn’t have to be alone.

Lucifer didn’t talk much for the rest of their walk, just whistled and looked around. He knew that he’d planted a seed that would drive Sam mad. See, he had to walk this line, wherein he got Sam to bring him to Jack, but also, being around Sam this much really made him nostalgic for their decades trapped together. Every time they saw each other again, it was like he needed a fix of his own—needed the high he got off of seeing Sam suffer. So, Lucifer tortured him covertly—just bugging him enough to get him all twisted up inside, but not enough to make Sam unwilling to provide introductions to Jack.

Beside him, Sam was stewing in his juices. There was, of course, the distinct possibility that Lucifer was just lying to him, as he’d done so many times before, but something else about what he said made too much sense. That look he’d seen in her eye when she’d tortured that hunter and when she’d killed that demon made it not so hard to imagine a cruelty hiding inside of her. She tried so hard to stay calm—to not get angry—but she seemed to be succeeding less and less as time went on. It then occurred to him that he’d never really thought about how she’d taken out all three of those Stynes on her own—he wondered if that was just another exception for her, too.

Sam considered himself, and the mindset he’d been in when he’d started drinking demon blood. He had been so angry all the time—the blood made him feel powerful at first. In control. Capable. Sadie was in want of similar things. She always wanted to prove that she was capable—she’d wanted to prove that the whole time he’d known her—and then, it didn’t seem too far off for Sam to think she might slip seamlessly into using her powers to gain that sense of control.

He knew that path—he knew how it ended. He knew how he had disappointed Dean, how he had disappointed himself, and then he wondered if it was just a matter of time. He wondered if one day, he’d be the one looking on at her in disappointment. Right then, he didn’t know that he could bear it—he didn’t know if he could watch her slip away from herself.

[daisyslain]

*   FANDOM QUESTIONS.

repost,   don’t  re - blog.

FANDOM  :   scream. FANDOM  AIR  /  PUBLISH  DATE  :   june ‘15. FAVOURITE  THING  ABOUT  YOUR  FANDOM  :   i love the little details that were put into each character to make them fascinating and to make them stand on their own.   with a show that’s literally about killing the characters off,    it’s really important to establish who these people are quickly before they.. you know.. die.    a good example of this is tyler,    who we only see one scene of with no flashbacks,   but we know things about him like the fact that he’s adopted and that he was the ‘ wild boy ‘ and it helps us resonate with who he was a little more.   each death hits a little harder when we start to learn more about them,   especially with the way the focus is subtly drawn to them right before their death,    like will finally coming to terms with the wrongs he has done and doing his best to get his redemption to prepare for his inevitable death,   etc.    honestly,   a lot of the characters on this show,  i don’t like as people,    but i LOVE as characters because they’re all written well and in a way that they can really fit into any scenario.    it’s one of my favorite fandoms to mix with crossovers because it’s so easy.    their characters aren’t tied down to just be about the murders;   there’s so much more to all of them. FAVOURITE  CHARACTER  AND  WHY  :    scream is a show that even when i don’t like a character as a person,   they’re still really well written characters which is why i’ve been so hooked on this show so honestly ???  i’ve got a top four?    audrey,   haley,   maggie,  and stavo.    audrey was my favorite from the beginning because her vibe is so similar to my type of favorite character,   but she really became my favorite when she was exposed as having to do something with piper.   and even though we didn’t get the full story with her and piper and it’s still so open ended,   i still love the way audrey deals with her guilt especially because it’s not at all how many of the other characters would and i think that’s what sets her apart from characters who typically deal with a guilt complex.   she’s not a good person but she’s damn good at getting her way out of blame in most circumstances and i love seeing how much crap she piles on herself because of it.    anyone who knows me knows exactly why i stan haley so much and it’s because of her purpose as a character.    with shows like this depicting tragedy and grief,   it would be incomplete if we didn’t see ALL sides.   haley is scared too,   she just deals with it all in a very wrong way and it’s interesting to see how she plays off the others’ grief because of it.    maggie is a favorite mostly because of how she got here.    i love the way she believes in brandon so loyally   (  me too bitch!!  )    because so many people have painted him as a villain for 20ish years and she’s still here preaching about him being innocent,    and to have gone through what she went through and be shunned to ever think positively of him yet still be so adamant about believing in him??    that takes an insanely strong person,   not to mention how much of her life she was forced to keep private even when she felt like she was disrespecting brandon by doing so.    stavo is a favorite character because of who he is as an individual,    and i feel like him being in the scream setting doesn’t do his character justice.    his mind is so intriguing to me and i constantly want to know more about him,   especially in terms of what happened with his friend’s death.    there’s so much we don’t know about him and so many answers up in there air,   but i think that’s part of why i like him so much.   he has a unique perspective on everything and he’s not afraid to tell people the truth   (  i.e.  warning noah that publicly looking for the accomplice might put a target on his back,  etc.  )     i’m also extremely interested in his art,  what it means,  the way his father shuts it down,   etc.   and i’ve said this before on tracy’s blog,    but his character seems to match so many of my headcanons for her,   so i just naturally really fell in love with who he is.   OVERRATED  CHARACTER  :     i’m going to softly pass on this UNDERRATED  CHARACTER  :   stavo!!   so many people are quick to hate him because he hooked up with brooke and finally i have a place to rant about this,   so...   it’s not his fault that brooke moved on with him?   in fact,   it’s extremely ic of brooke to try to ignore her grief by jumping into bed with someone to distract herself rather than deal with her own tragedy.   she had done it multiple times on the show.    it’s uncomfortable because of how quick it happened,   but it seems like he gets shit on all the time because of something that was entirely in character for brooke to be doing,   and everyone makes this some kind of competition between stavo and jake when it shouldn’t be like that at all?     i’m constantly left wondering if anyone would give him a chance if he wasn’t attached to brooke because it seems like that’s why he gets so much hate.   he definitely is as shady as he seems,   perhaps even more though we’ll never find out,   but i think he deserves more of a chance and an understanding from the fans rather than a shit storm of hate just because he was with brooke as if that wasn’t her choice at all when...  it was. OTP  :   clark / maggie,  brandon / maggie.    i guess i don’t really ship a whole lot of the canon ships on the show but these are two that own me.      i also like the idea of brooke and audrey but i’m a lot more interested in that ship in season 1 and favoring their friendship instead in season 2. NOTP  :    i’ll only say it since it’s not canon but ??  audrey  /  emma,   which again,   anyone who has spoken to me about this ever knows how i feel about it.    emma has already dated a stream of people who lie to her.    i’ll keep my canon notps to myself.    although i’m sure no one will charge at me with torches for saying maggie and kevin publicly BROTP  :   audrey and noah,   maggie and brandon.  OVERRATED  SHIP  :   again,   i’ll keep it to myself yikes UNDERRATED  SHIP  :    clark and maggie!!!   and noah and zoe.   i know most people favor noah with riley but i don’t really think these two relationships are comparable at all.    i feel like riley was someone noah could have loved,   while zoe was someone he got the chance to love,    and i think once they could truly work past the weird jealousy and roundabouts,   they would have been something really strong. WEIRD  SHIP  THAT  YOU  HAVE  :   don’t @ me but i love the idea of piper and kieran solely for the way he spoken about her and i think they would have been interesting as hell to see together.    my heart also ships tyler and riley. SHIP  YOU  DIDN’T  EXPECT  TO  LIKE  :   i can’t think of any right now!!  CROSSOVER  SHIPS  :   i have a dream of haley and noel kahn  /  mona so :/   but otherwise,   i really like the crossover scream ships i have with my gf @perfectevil because theo works so well with characters in that state of mind even if those relationships aren’t exactly.. Real,   they just vibe well together.     FAVOURITE  PLOT  LINE  :   maggie getting pregnant with brandon james’s baby and being forced to hide it from everyone for the rest of her life against her will while she had to pretend that brandon wasn’t a good guy even though she believed he was...   then to be bit in the ass by it when piper came back to kill her because she believed the lies maggie’s parents forced her to tell.   what the fuck!!!   and also audrey being so desperate for revenge that she found a half sister emma didn’t know about and became close friends with her while telling her to make emma + co pay,  then in turn being the prime target for piper’s real accomplice in season 2 because she was so easy to bait and be framed as the killer.      PLOT  YOU  WOULD  HAVE  LIKED  TO  SEE  :   obviously,   i would love to see audrey’s plot play out truthfully and the way it was intended from the beginning.    it rubs me the wrong way that she got out of it all and everyone just seemed to forgive her so easily even with the evidence in front of them that there was more to it than the story she gave them.     and i’m forever upset that we’ll never see a reveal that brandon james wasn’t the killer and that someone else  (coughkevincough)  was actually guilty. FAVOURITE  VILLAIN  :  piper.  i love me a petty murderer.   i also loved the way she hid behind journalism and i could talk about that for so long.     and haley,   though i’m not really sure she fits in the villain category..   she’s more of a nuisance to the other characters than someone of any real threat.   and i’m going to softly add audrey to this because...  she pulled some Shit LEAST  FAVOURITE  VILLAIN  :   i don’t really hate the villains tbh????   as people,   yes,   but as characters i like the way things went.    i know kieran gets a lot of shit but uh ? he was crafty as FUCK and we can’t deny that  WHO  WOULD  YOU  BE  FRIENDS  WITH  IF  YOU  WERE  IN  THE  FANDOM  :   audrey and noah.    i’d just never wanna get on audrey’s bad side FAVOURITE  FIC  :   i don’t really read fics but i love reading other scream roleplayers write these characters because they’re all so important to me LEAST  FAVOURITE  FIC  TROPE :   i don’t think this really counts as a trope but basically every time i see characters miraculously surviving i get irrationally stressed because the entire plot is such a domino effect  SONG  IN  THE  FANDOM  :   the songs on scream are all such BOPS!   but fun fact my most played song of 2018 was actually pray by bishop briggs,   which is the song that plays when kieran is taken into custody and emma and audrey hug it out  SONG  THAT  REMINDS  YOU  OF  YOUR  FAVOURITE  CHARACTER  :   same as the last!! 

tagged  by  :    the beautiful @asperad tagging  :     @perfectevil because i know a bitch has a lot to say,    but everyone in the scream fandom pls bc i love all these characters thanks

[silverwhiteraven]

Wings of Broken White - Ch. 5

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 4 ] [ Chapter 6 ]

[ Summary: Oh, hi there, Sandboy. ]

Marinette wasn't certain what had caused her to wake in the middle of the night, not until she heard childish laughter echoing in the night. Tikki was already awake, looking frantic as she watched the windows.

"Tikki, what-"

"Akuma," she answered swiftly. "I barely managed to avoid being affected by him when he passed overhead. I couldn't walk you in time, though, I'm so sorry…"

"Why? What does this one do?" Marinette worried, looking around the room like the Akuma was about to jump out.

"He calls himself Sandboy-"

"Like the Sandman? Doesn't he give people pleasant dreams?" Marinette was baffled, until it dawned on her how bad that might be.

"Exactly like that. But this is an Akuma, Marinette, and he isn't just putting people to sleep. From all the people running around outside in a panic, it looks like he's waking them up instead, and bringing their dreams with them."

"Waking nightmares," Marinette stared at her Kwami, horrified. "Please tell me they're just illusions? Wait! You said I got affected?? Oh no, Tikki, I gotta, we, oh no-"

Tikki was quick to comfort her holder with a hug and calm words. "Let's transform. The sooner this is over, the sooner we can put Paris back to rest."

Marinette nodded, determined to get this nightmare over with as soon as possible. But as soon as she stood, she lost her balance and fell forward off her bed. "Ouch…My wings are numb…"

"Marinette…You're wings...they're definitely not numb…"

Confused, she looked back, flexing her wings, only to see nothing at all, and no feeling of such limbs existing. There was no weight on her back, either. Her breath caught in her chest and her eyes stung.

"Oh, Marinette…I'm so sorry. Maybe-"

"I'm just like they think I am," Marinette gasped out, interrupting Tikki.

"Marinette?"

"That's what I'm scared of- Being just like what others think of me. Wingless. Useless. A disappointment," she held back a sob. She stopped Tikki before she could argue against her. “I- I know, I know I’m not useless, or, or any of those things but- They still scare me, Tikki. It’s why I hide my wings under binders- If I pretend to be as weak as people think, then at least I know, and the people I care about and trust know, that under what strangers see, I hide something stronger, something just mine. And now-” She sucked in a breath, “Now that hidden strength I held on to is gone. What am I supposed to do?”

Tikki could see how lost and downtrodden her holder was, giving her the biggest hug to the cheek her tiny body could do. “I still believe in you, Marinette. Now come, we have a villain to defeat! You can do it! No matter what, you are still you, wings or no wings, nightmares and dreams, too. They are a part of you, but you don’t need them to just be yourself.”

Another few shaky breaths, and Marinette nodded, cupping her Kwami in her palm, returning the hug, thankful for her words.

“I got this, I got this...We got this...Tikki, Transform Me.”

The fight was hard. Ladybug had no wings, having to completely readjust her entire fighting style and even how she moved all together. The lack of wings did a number on her abilities.

Chat Blanc also showed up without wings, but he had a better time adjusting, seeming to even be more natural without the feathers. But he seemed to have something else affecting him, too. Blanc wasn’t, well, blanc. His suit was pitch black and his eyes a green acid.

At first Ladybug didn’t know if she was looking at her partner or another nightmare. But he looked shaken, even a little hollow, like he had been drained of previously overwhelming emotions.

When the fight was over, before she cast Miraculous Ladybug, she pulled Chat Blanc to a hidden rooftop for privacy.

“Kitty?”

“Hm?” He looked distracted, only looking at her Lucky Charm, waiting for it to make things normal again.

“You don’t have to tell me why Sandboy’s power affected you like that, but, just so you know, I’m here for you, if you need it.”

He smiled wryly and shrugged. “Thank you. I’m not even sure why I’m Noir instead of Blanc. My nightmares- My fear, It’s that I can no longer help those in need. To be nothing more than destruction and bad luck. Whatever Sandboy did, I really did feel, well, not good about my capabilities. Whatever he took from me, to give me these colors...I’m glad I’ll get it back.”

He looked up at her eyes and smiled genuinely. She took his hand and smiled back, happy to see he hadn’t lost his spark.

“Then let’s get you back your confident blues, Kitty. Miraculous Ladybug!”

Noir turned to Blanc once more, and feathers returned to their backs.

Before Ladybug could pull away, Chat squeezed her hand. She looked at him curiously.

“You can rely on me, too, my Lady. I’ll carry your fears for as long as you help me with mine.” She smiled, heart swelling with something big. She pulled him into a hug and held tight.

“You already help me with my fears, Chat. You’re the reason I’m as strong as I am, even as a civilian. I let my wings out as Ladybug because of you, and I’ll always be thankful for that. You helped me. No Akuma could take that from us.” She pulled back, seeing him rather stunned, but there were tears in his eyes from the reassurance and validation.

She blushed under her mask, booping his nose to push him back, distracting him from noticing her embarrassment. “Time to head home, Chat Blanc. Have a good night! Bug out!”

Marinette couldn't sleep despite the fact the living nightmare was over, so she was out on her balcony once more. She didn’t bother with a jacket or a blanket to protect her from the cold. It was helping her feel grounded in reality, calming her nerves with a gentle coolness.

She could see Chat Blanc still out, giggling at how energetic he could be. She was going to wave at him, test to see if he could see her from a distance, but she realized she wasn't ready to see him so soon again. Not yet.

‘Blanc, can you keep a secret for me?’ She remembered asking, not all that long ago on this very balcony, about the very wings she usually hid away. ‘Nevermind, next time, okay?’

‘It’s a date.’

Nope! Nope, she is definitely NOT ready yet! Boy, is she glad she didn't remember that conversation at the cat café. That would have been a recipe for disaster.