#absolute territory gabriel. yes or no

[mayhems-cannon]

some more gabriel garbaj + sketchbook sketches

[weirdbeancurd]

Attempted Apologies, Chapter 3- ULTRAKILL Fanfic

Chapters: 1 2 3

Ao3 (Link)

@h0ped3lusion @vallianttreedreamland (thanks for loving my work lol)

god I am SO sorry for taking so long to write this, but I've been super busy with a job, moving, and a bunch of other adult stuff. thank you all so much for being patient and leaving lovely comments. I'm not totally happy with some of this story (I'm never happy with my writing lol), so I might make minor changes, but other than that, this fic is finally done!!! thanks again for sticking around, and thank you @persi-person for helping peer review!

also I originally planned for this to be strictly platonic, but it definitely leans more into romantic territory with V1 and Gabe (and a bit with Minos and Sisyphus). it can still be seen as platonic, if that's what you'd like, though!

Takes place in an AU where the prime souls live, and Gabriel and V1 live on the surface as apocalyptic roommates. (oh my god they were roommates)

Summary: Gabriel attempts (key word: attempts) to apologize to Minos and Sisyphus for their executions, but it doesn't go as well as he had hoped. Chapter 3 out of 3.

“I, uh. Love what you did with the curtains?”

Gabriel’s feeble attempt at small talk is ignored. Breaking the ice has never been this difficult, and he's getting absolutely stone walled by the man stitching up his skin. Prestigious ruler or not, his bedside manners can use some work. He tries not to let his irritation show through his body language. I think I’d rather get my ass handed to me again over whatever this is.

“Is everything alright?”

“...”

“Look, you really don’t have to do this. I can just head back and patch mys-”

“Hold thy tongue,” Minos snaps. His mouth slams shut. He immediately drops the subject.

“Oh, um yeah. I can do that.”

He fidgets with his hands for lack of anything better to do. The loopiness from his fever is fading, his dampened healing factor working overtime to repair weary muscle. While he still had his light, Gabriel’s regeneration was enough to mend any wound in seconds. Now more than ever, he longs for that invulnerability, bestowing him confidence to the point of arrogance, reckless beyond abandon. It encased him like his shell of armor, covering incorporeal flaws. If only he could see himself now, having to rely on the tools of man and the care of another to heal. Some days, he berates his reflection. “How weak,” “how distasteful,” he thinks. “How pathetic.”

How the mighty have fallen.

His eyes flick back and forth from Minos and the floor, trying not to get caught staring. He doesn't deserve to be in their presence; a kind and noble man like him shouldn't be tainted by his darkness. Perhaps that's why Minos is being so irritable; he must be rubbing off on them. Despite the need to shy away, he spares another glance.

Gabriel's helm shields his face, but he feels naked, transparent, like the king’s iridescent skin. He sees right through them, literally and figuratively. Right through their resentment, which is held not only for Gabriel, but also for the man himself. V1 once spoke of his rage upon being liberated from the flesh prison, going as far as to describe his demeanor as “violent;” a bit ironic coming from the literal murder machine. He never thought those two words could be said in the same sentence; violence and Minos simply aren't compatible, like oil and water, fire and ice. Or so he thought.

Halfway through their battle, he grit out a single, spiteful word; “weak.” He spat it out as if it tasted vile, vicious and repulsive like acid on his tongue. And while yes, Minos despises V1 for all their kind has done to humanity, he’d never deny their skill in battle. The king was struggling to his feet, having to push off his knee to stand, frustrated that his muscles seemed to rebel against him. It's almost as if that bitterness was directed not at the machine, but instead at…

Hm. Maybe they're not so different after all.

Gabriel observes the man beside him, no longer trying to be discreet. Their shoulders are tense, whether it's from being hunched over so long or the restraint needed to not beat him until his bones are a fine, white mist, he doesn’t know. But he will risk his skeletal system if it means this’ll stop being so damn awkward.

“I’m well aware you told me to shut up,” Gabriel says, holding his hands up in a placating manner. Minos gives him a deadpan glare (or what he assumes is a deadpan glare), but lets him continue. “But I must speak my piece.” He takes a deep breath and resists the urge to pray to a god that no longer exists.

“The father once told us that all sin can be forgiven with a confession and a wave of the hand.” He laughs bitterly. “Now, that's really not true, is it.” It's not a question. He knows the answer.

“No confession will ever right the wrongs that are my actions. No apology of mine will ever be worthy of your ears. I presume you would not want one from me, anyways.”

Minos doesn't dignify him with a response, opting to stare straight ahead.

Gabriel is reminded of his own silent brooding, remembering the warm glow of the campfire while he pondered his questionable morality. After a (not-so) healthy amount of denial, he'd turned to self loathing. How could he have not recognized the council's manipulation sooner? Was he that blind, that moronic to believe their lies? Or was he just too pathetic to form any sort of resistance? What if he was more observant, would he have figured this out earlier and prevented it all from spiraling down to disaster? These questions crowded his mind, like fish in a much-too-small bucket, gasping for air, suffocating each other as they squirm and writhe. The “what ifs” and “if onlys” taunted him with a universe in which he was better, stronger.

How he yearned for someone to battle his thoughts for him, to shut down the paralyzing convictions that plagued his dreams. So maybe what they really need isn’t an apology, just simple reassurance.

“You…are not weak. Far from it.” The words come out awkward and stilted, though he barely needs to think before he speaks. It’s like the syllables have long been ingrained in the deepest parts of his mind, mouth moving to form sounds that have already left his lips.

“You were wronged, and people suffered for it, but it wasn’t your fault. Your strength would not have made a difference, though you harbor more of it than I ever will.”

It's hard to tell what Minos is feeling, half from the fact he lacks a face, and the other half being that Gabriel's people skills are out of practice. In fact, he never had them in the first place. Never had a reason to, if your only purpose is to carry out orders.

“The fact you still stand here today, tragedy after tragedy, is a show of resilience. Though you couldn’t prevent the tragedies in the first place, you did your best to make do with what was left. What’s done is done, Minos.”

He wishes he can take his own advice. Practice what you preach, as they say. Gabriel was never a good preacher, but he tries. He makes sure the other man is listening before delivering his final words.

“You did good.”

Minos says nothing, and for a terrifying moment he thinks he’s made a fatal mistake. And then the man huffs a quiet laugh. Gabriel stares in confusion.

“I…appreciate thy appraisal, but I must admit I’m rather conflicted. On one hand, I understand thou hast merit, but I am reluctant to entertain thy words, due to our history.”

Gabriel lowers his gaze, disappointed he didn’t get through to them, but Minos starts again.

“However, I must thank thee. Thou clearly drew from thy own experience; that shows courage. I shall consider thy appraisal.”

He perks up at that, looking to the king with elation and surprise.

“Just…keep the creature of steel away from this layer. I’m sure thou can surmise why.” He sounds like he’s trying to keep his anger at bay, staring at the floor.

Oh, V1. Yes, he can do that. It did destroy much of what was left of Minos’ kingdom after all, so a permanent ban from the lust layer is more than fair. And that’s not even delving into their battle, the man treating his own defeat as a sign that he’d failed humanity. He shudders at the thought of what Minos would do if he got his hands on them again.

“I understand. I’ll tell them to avoid your city.” It’s Gabriel’s turn to laugh. “Maybe it’ll actually listen to me for once.”

He fixes his eyes on the floor as well, the two sharing a moment of understanding. And then the moment is gone, brief as it is cathartic.

“Sisyphus will accompany thou as I prepare supper. Stay.” Minos goes to open the door…revealing the man in question. Speak of the devil. He has the gall to look smug, bent at the knees to press his ear to the door, the shameless bastard.

“What have I told thee about eavesdropping,” Minos seems unphased, expectant, even.

“Sorry,” But Sisyphus’ grin says otherwise. “I can't help it. Force of habit, I suppose.” The other lets out a rather childish groan.

“I would tell thou to cease thy antics, if not for thy refusal to listen.”

“That's not true. I listened in on your conversation perfectly well.”

“That's…just entertain thy guest.”

“Anything for you, my friend.”

Minos tries to slip past the other, very much ready to leave, but not before Sisyphus catches him with a warm hand on his shoulder. His large frame blocks most of Gabriel's view, but he sees his body lean into theirs. All encompassing, like a solar eclipse. He can't hear what they're saying, so he can only imagine the kindness Sisyphus reserves for friends alone, something he knows he’ll never deserve. He’ll let them have their moment, too.

Once Minos has had enough (said affectionately) with his friend’s fussing, he leaves the two alone in favor of attending to his kingly duties (or whatever that man does in his free time). Sisyphus takes a place at his side, awkwardness not any less prevalent. Time to pull out his award-winning small talk skills again, because that went over so well last time. Believe it or not, Gabriel's smart enough to know that bringing up the king's beheading is a bad idea. The traumatic event is likely still an open wound, for lack of a better term. When would it be appropriate to “get over” your own beheading, anyways? Fourty, fifty years? A hundred? Never? It's not like he's going to get his head back. Alright, now he's just stalling. He needs to come up with a conversation topic quick, because he swears the silence is eating away at his soul. Maybe he can talk about V1; he finds himself doing that often. Not that it means anything.

“...I apologize for my friend's behavior.”

Sisyphus raises a brow.

“You have friends? I never thought you had it in you to be likable.” Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. Gabriel rolls his eyes, giving an indignant glare. “I do not know who you are referring to. Not many can tolerate your presence.”

“I'm just going to ignore what you said and move on. Look, the machine has said it regrets it's actions-”

“Ah, you mean the child of man.” His mood lifts instantly. “At least you have good taste in company. Our battle ought to be remembered; it was invigorating. I hope to have a rematch someday.” Well, that was very much not the reaction he was expecting.

“You don’t…hate V1? They nearly killed you!”

“Is that its name? I shall honor that, for unlike you,” He shoves a finger in his direction. “it fights with a sense of decency.” Gabriel shrinks under his scrutiny. “How ironic, that a war machine holds more virtue than the supreme angel.” Ouch.

“...That was uncalled for.”

“Was it? It’s not my fault that your lover has better morals than you.”

Time stands still for Gabriel. He feels like he just got shot by the railcannon. There’s no way he heard that right…right?

“I’m sorry, my WHAT?”

“Your lover,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You two are joined at the hip. It’s nauseating, honestly. Or was your relationship supposed to be a secret?” Gabriel flounders like a fish out of water. This greatly amuses Sisyphus, who’s found his new favorite pastime: pestering a certain archangel.

“I-we are not a couple! I don’t know where you could’ve possibly gleaned that from, but you’re wrong. They are my companion, nothing more.”

“Denial does not look good on you, Gabriel. I thought you were past that.”

“Listen,” he grumbles. “we may be close, but I do not have feelings for the machine!”

“Whatever you say.” He drawls, voice dripping in sarcasm. Sisyphus grins when the other lets out a frustrated groan.

“You-ngh. You are impossible. For the last time, I’m not in love with them. I don't even like them; they're, uh. Sinful and unholy-”

Thud. They whip their heads towards the noise. It sounded like someone kicking open a pair of doors.

“Did…did you hear that?”

“Of course I heard that. Now shut your mouth.” They sit in tense silence. A single beat passes before the quiet is shattered by a thunderous shout.

“CREATURE OF STEEL.”

Oh no. It better not be who he thinks it is. It seems Sisyphus has the same inkling, both slowly turning to give the other a wary look.

“...Is that-”

CRASH.

The wooden wall by the door explodes inward, a blue torpedo rocketing into the room, splinters flying everywhere. Gabriel lets out an undignified shriek. As the dust settles, he can make out a familiar figure lying in the rubble. Shit. It is who he thought it was. At least they seem completely unharmed, despite crashing through a damn wall. It perks up when it sees Gabriel. V1, like the menace it is, waves excitedly. He can’t for the life of him conjure up a single word to say, speechless for the Nth time today. Sisyphus, for one, doesn’t appear phased, greeting them with a hearty chuckle.

“Ah, V1. We were just talking about you. How nice of you to join us.” It would've given him a wave as well, but their friendly conversation is interrupted by a foreboding presence.

“THOU ART NOT WELCOME HERE.” Minos has arrived, and boy is he pissed. He stands in the hole left in the wall, posture stiff and gaze unyielding. The dim, blue-tinged light that once emanated from his form has grown into a blazing, turquoise glow. His heart pumps furiously, veins bulging, visible through his translucent skin.

If Gabriel thought Sisphysus’ wrath was terrifying, Minos’ is nearly enough to make him go into cardiac arrest. Before he can properly process his own terror, the king starts approaching V1, fists ready. Gabriel quickly scrambles to put himself between the two, reacting before his common sense can stop him.

“Don’t!”

Minos glares down at him. Somehow his lack of eyes makes him even more terrifying.

“Please. Spare them.”

The realization sets in that he’s keeping a predator from its prey, and there’s a slight tremble in the arm he shoots out to keep the man at a distance. With a huff, Minos tries to shove past, but the angel shifts to block him. Gabriel sternly shakes his head.

“Move.”

Minos’ voice drips with venom, thick with barely concealed rage. It takes everything within him to stand his ground, anticipating the worst. After all, V1 would do the same for him.

“I will not. Ask. Again.”

Fuck. Gabriel is starting to regret not bringing his swords. He watches helplessly as the other advances, quick steps with murderous intent. He tenses his muscles, steadies his breath, and prepares for a jaw shattering punch…but is instead met with a voice, low and understanding.

“Minos. Think about what you are doing.”

Gabriel locks eyes with his unlikely savior. Sisyphus is the picture of neutrality, brow set in careful analysis. He's well aware of the fragility of the situation; Minos looks like he’s just about to go off the deep end. And while he has good reason to loathe, Sisyphus knows he'll regret lashing out. His conscience always comes back to haunt him, the damn thing. As much as he'd like to see the two mashed into a red paste, Minos doesn't need another thing to lament over. He can’t say he’s looking forward to defending the duo, suddenly reminded of what provoked such an intense response. He scolds himself for starting to actually get along with Gabriel, nearly forgetting the horrors he unleashed upon his greatest friend. Sisyphus schools his expression, trying not to let his own anger show.

“Your people, they look up to you for your compassion and empathy. Where is that mercy now?”

There's a near unperceptive tremor that wracks his friend's tense frame. Good. He's getting through to him.

“The beings before you did what they needed to survive. While their actions had dire repercussions, and I am not absolving them of fault here, consider their circumstances.”

Minos doesn't want to. He doesn't want to humanize them any further. He wants to tear them apart like they did humanity, unhindered by stupid morals.

“Would one blame a trout for thrashing when caught? Would one scorn a wolf for killing to eat?”

A thick, black liquid starts to ooze out of Minos’ abyss-like face. It flows like tar, ugly and coagulated with sorrow and feelings he'd hate to dissect. In the hollow silence that swallows the room, they can hear his breath hitch.

“Gabriel,” Sisyphus says, fixing him with a piercing stare. The angel stares with wide eyes, not expecting to have been brought into the conversation. “You were a weapon wielded by another, neglected and abused. When you inevitably faltered, you were discarded like a rag.”

Gabriel lowers his gaze. He hates that they're right.

“The sins you committed were the result of eons of manipulation and torture. When you finally realized what you'd done, you took immediate action to correct your mistakes with the little time you had left.”

The angel in question is stunned into silence. Truly, what more could he have possibly done in his situation? With only one day to right his wrongs, it’d be futile to reason with the council; killing them was the sole solution. As for the sins of his past, perhaps all the blame does not fall on him. It was the council’s abuse that forced him to carry out their word, conditioned to be unquestioningly loyal to the point of blind faith. While he was the one to strike innocents down, the blood is also on their hands. An ancient weight is halved, lifted from his shoulders, no longer unbearable. A sliver of forgiveness, not from another, but for himself: a gift he never expected Sisyphus of all people to bestow upon him. He would’ve expressed his gratitude if not for the sudden shift in subject, mourning the chance to thank his unlikely advocate.

“V1,” the machine perks up at the mention of its name. “You were created to kill and survive, and you did just that. After the threat of death had passed, you opted to explore beyond your nature. If passivity was an option, you took it.”

They do little more than tilt their head in consideration. They’re a bit hard to read on the count of not having a face, so he can only speculate if it's having a similarly Earth-shattering revelation like his.

“You defied your creator’s wildest expectations. Yes, you are violent, and ruthless, and efficient, but you are more than just that. I see flair in the way you fight, confidence in your skills, and a desire to succeed. You are so much more than the actions you did in order to survive.” He lets a beat of silence pass for the information to sink in before addressing the man of the moment.

“Minos, listen to me.” The king doesn't turn to face him, but he's known him long enough to tell he’s hearing every word. “You are a just ruler who took the time to care for each of your denizens, and you have every right to be angry that they met an untimely death. You did not deserve your fate, and neither did they. And neither did V1 and Gabriel. We are all victims of circumstance.”

Minos’ fists shake, clenching and unclenching. Everything sounds like it's underwater, words garbled and distorted, yet frustratingly coherent. He wants to plug his ears and scream until he suffocates, anything to get Sisyphus’ voice out of his head. He wants to destroy everything and everyone, until there is nothing left, and then destroy himself too. For once, he just wants revenge, not resolution. It’s not like he can ever get his people back, anyways. Clench. Unclench. Clench. Unclench.

“The only thing we can do now is to live on. Stand down, Minos. Is this what your people would've wanted?”

Something in him snaps, and the fight leaves him all at once. It’s not. It’s not what they would’ve wanted; how deplorable it would be to kill in their memory. Wordlessly, he rushes out of the room. Sisyphus holds out an arm to stop the other two from following.

“No. Give him time.”

The air is plunged into silence once again. Gabriel dares to break it, eager to give thanks.

“I-thank you. We truly appreciate-”

“Don't. Just-” Sisyphus sighs, shaking his head. “don't. I didn't do this for you.”

“...”

“We will meet by the castle entrance when the sun starts to set for your departure. Do not follow me.”

“...I understand.”

Wow. A bit harsh. Regardless, he's still grateful for this new perspective, if not a tad disappointed. Sisyphus rises from his chair and heads toward the door, steps stiff yet dutiful. Lost in thought, it takes Gabriel a moment to notice the king hasn't actually left the room yet, lingering with his back turned.

“The suffering you’ve brought my dear friend is beyond cruel. For that, my forgiveness is withheld, but my words hold true. Do with that what you will.” He finally exits, figure slipping through the door.

Huh. The pseudo-approval of Sisyphus feels…nice. It’s easy for him to get lost in his own sense of accomplishment. Gabriel feels a hand rest upon his. He snaps out of his trance, eyes trailing up its arm to see the machine sitting beside him, staring ahead. There's an awkwardly long pause before V1 has the courage to speak up.

Its hands move in quick, stilted gestures, conveying aggression in its urgency. Oh, they’re angry, he realizes, cringing in anticipation. He’s had more than enough action for today, thank you very much.

What are you doing here?!

“Me? I-uh,” Gabriel scrambles for an excuse. “I was just visiting lust for a chat with a couple old friends, but um. We had a little disagreement.”

The machine raises a single brow. Or they would’ve, but making fully-functional robotic eyebrows was apparently not one of their creator’s priorities. Shame.

Right. It looks like you three had an absolute ball.

The angel grimaces.

“Alright, fine. I came here to apologize for my actions.” He huffs. “And clearly, it didn’t exactly go to plan,” gesturing to the bruises that still litter his torso.

No shit. And without your armor, too. What, were you trying to get yourself killed?

“W-well, when have you ever cared about my wellbeing?” Gabriel growls, suddenly standing to his full height. “Even if you do, I’m just a bloodbag to you. You only care about your own survival. You always have.” V1 narrows their optic.

You don’t mean that.

“What if I do? And what if I was trying to kill myself?!” He shouts, picking up the nearest chair and chucking it across the room. It isn’t until its splintered remains settle on the floor that he regains his composure, kneeling on the ground, visibly deflating.

“I should’ve died after those twenty-four hours were up. I should’ve.” He whispers. He sounds so frail, a startling divergence from his usual bravado. Cold metal makes contact with his shoulder. He turns sluggishly to V1, if only to “hear” what they have to say.

I-

Its movements falter momentarily.

I do care about you. And I always have.

They don’t meet his eyes, but he still desperately clings to the hope that it’s speaking truthfully.

“I…I need some air.”

Gabriel speeds toward the balcony, the machine following suit. He takes a seat on the banister, gaze facing forward as V1 does the same. They both stare at the blazing horizon for a while, until V1 can’t take the silence any longer.

You make me dissatisfied with existence, it blurts out, signing almost incomprehensibly fast.

Gabriel blinks. How to respond to that, he does not know.

“I…thanks? I guess?”

It frantically waves its hands, trying to show it means no ill will.

I mean, you make me want more out of life.

It was never allowed to enjoy things; It never had the chance. But now, they spar for the heck of it, not over sustenance or resources. It takes the time to manually read books instead of scanning them, something they once considered a mere waste of fuel. It ignores the alerts that flood its vision, closing them before they have the chance to tell it that it's being “inefficient.” Text irrelevant its ass. Before Gabriel, they were just surviving. Now, they live.

Gabriel can't help but smile. They said so little, but they needn’t say more. He knows what they're feeling all too well. It takes a bit of effort to muster up the courage, but the machine’s honesty spurs him on, and he manages to find his words.

“I think I understand. You taught me to…want. And by the heavens, I wanted to live, I wanted to fight and struggle and fail, to laugh and cry and watch the sunset a million times over just to say that I did. When my light was taken away, it was you who gave me clarity, and for that…I cannot thank you enough.”

He leans a bit closer, just reveling in the comfortable silence they've created. V1 scoots over, closing the distance between them. The cool metal feels nice against his skin.

I think he's right.

“About what?”

Only thing we can do now is keep living, despite-no, with the guilt.

“...How?” The question of “why” goes unasked.

Not sure. But we're still alive, so we've got to be doing something right.

“...I suppose you have a point.”

Perhaps those questions can be answered another time. Right now, all that seems to matter is the gentle breeze that passes through the cracks in his armor and the feeling of the machine's plating against his shoulder. His heart swells as they bask in the “sun's” rays. Considering they're in literal hell, that glowing ball is no star, but whatever it is shall suffice. They’ll make do, as they always. A ray of light falls upon the pair, encasing them in warmth. How picturesque. Two beings at the end of time, watching the sun set as it slips below the horizon.

…Hold on.

Aren't they supposed to be heading somewhere right now? Oh. Oh. Sisyphus is expecting them.

“Shit. We need to go, now.” He snatches V1's hand and bolts for the door. Heart to heart be damned, they have a deadline to meet.

Maybe Gabriel's previous difficulty navigating the palace was procrastination after all. It's remarkably easy to traverse, especially with his head clear and V1 helping guide him. He supposes everything feels a little easier with a clear head, and they find the castle gate in record time. The prime souls are already waiting there, punctual as expected.

As the two pairs face each other in the doorway, Gabriel notices Minos’ glazed look, Sisphysus’ hand resting on his shoulder. He follows the king’s stare, his eyes landing on the city below.. Before he has time to wallow in shame, Minos’ gaze drifts back to him. Silence. Introspection. After an excruciatingly long lapse in conversation, Minos sighs.

“I bid thee farewell. May thy travels be uneventful.” He senses the sincerity in his voice, and it's honestly relieving. The fact they can even speak to him without hatred oozing from their words leaves him dumbfounded. And it’s not forgiveness, most definitely not, but it’s something. After the atrocities he’s committed, Gabriel is endlessly grateful for this morsel of absolution. The corners of his lips turn upwards as he bows his head in gratitude. His core blooms with warmth.

Ever impatient, V1 halts their respectful exchange by tapping him twice on the shoulder, metal meeting flesh. It raises its hands to sign. Home? It asks. Gabriel huffs fondly, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, yes. We’re going home.” He pivots to the kings. “Thank you very much, truly, but we must get going. This one,” gesturing to V1. “is getting restless. And should also learn some manners.” That earns him a flick to the helmet. He swears he hears Sisyphus stifle a chuckle.

Resisting the urge to bicker, Gabriel turns away, guiding V1 into his hold. With a flap of the wings and a powerful thrust from his legs, they take to the sky. Every beat takes them higher and higher, and further and further from Lust. He doesn’t look back, just focuses on keeping V1 from slipping out of his arms.

His stamina isn’t as infinite as when he still had his light, so by the time they reach the surface, Gabriel is exhausted. They decide to call it a night and rest where they land. He sets up a campfire, not unlike the aftermath of his second defeat, but now with kinder circumstances. It’s nice having someone beside him, even if they are a bit of a pest.

“You're a nuisance, you know.”

The machine gives a cheeky thumbs up. Gabriel heaves a heavy sigh, and for the first time in eons, he feels light. His burdens do not sag and tug at his heart, and the gnawing guilt he harbors has lost its bite. He laughs, pulling V1 in, sheltering them with his wings. Joyous and content, Gabriel gives in to the lulling effect of the setting sun. As sleep pulls him under, he dreams of a hopeful future, not of tongues and teeth.

And though the sight of the lust layer still fills him with regret, the weight on his shoulders is a bit easier to carry. Gabriel may never be able to cry life back into the townsfolk, nor grieve them back from death, but he’s made an effort to make amends. It's a long way forward, yet it's a step in the right direction. These days, the shame doesn't linger and fester like it used to. It's been replaced with a fire that burns bright and unyielding. Gabriel decides he likes his newfound vigor.

And oh, how it suits him to feel strong.

Leave a reply telling me your thoughts if you'd like. :) I appreciate any and all replies lol. And yes, the last line is a reference to the dodie song "Ready now" hehe

[maphy-art]

It took two weeks of work and a ton of wasted nerves to get this job done, but I finished it. And yes, my character is Lance and Raphael.

(Next I want to write a bit about the history of my TAV, so if you're not really interested, don't read it, just appreciate the art, thanks!☺️🌸)

Lance is a tiefling architect from Waterdeep. He lived an ordinary, quiet life until he received a strange letter from his older brother Gabriel, who left home over six months ago in search of adventure. In the letter, he informs him in a hurried and obviously nervous manner that he is now in Baldur's Gate, and something strange is happening there, mentioning the Absolute in passing. Lance doesn't understand who the Absolute is from the scrawled letter, but he does realize that his brother is in danger. Without thinking long, the guy packs his things and goes on a search, but not before leaving the territory of his hometown, he is kidnapped by a nautiloid, which begins the adventure, where he finds new companions and a problem in the form of an illithid larva in his head. During his journey Lance does not forget about the search for his brother, but one night in the camp, the Emperor appears to him in a dream in the form of Gabriel, and the guy willingly believes the speeches of his close relative, not thinking that in front of him is not the one he would like to see.

Because of this, the Tiefling decides that his brother is imprisoned in a prism and helps him by saving him from being reincarnated as an illithid. For this reason, Lance focuses on finding a cure for his illness and, because of his nature, helps everyone he can, while his real brother suffers in the depths of the Baal cult from Orin's torture because he found too much valuable information related to the Absolute's plan.

Lance meets Raphael, a sweet-talking devil who persuades the hero to make a deal and hints that there is a traitor in the prism, but Lance doesn't believe it. After all, even he, being a Tiefling, realizes that it is more expensive to trust the devil.

So Lance's uneasy adventures continue until he penetrates into the lair of the Gith, where he is again told that there is a traitor in the astral prism. Tiefling still doesn't believe it, but after infiltrating the prism and talking to the false Gabriel again, he doesn't consider his brother's words a deception and kills him on Vlaakit's orders.

The adventure continues until Lance kills Ketherik Thorm and travels to Baldurs' Gate. He again rests in the camp until they are attacked by gith with the intention of stealing the astral prism and killing him, but a strange, unfamiliar voice in his head asks for his help. And Lance once again finds himself in the strange space of the prism with his companions, sees who really protected him, the world of the guy collapses, as well as trust in the one who saved him all this time.

Having protected the artifact and the Emperor along with Orpheus, Lance can't sleep, his inner world is crumbling, he thought for so long that his brother was near, and in fact it may turn out that the only person related to him is already dead.

Finding himself in Rivington, the tiefling no longer throws around goodwill, he doesn't care about that, after all, he doesn't have much time. The only thing he thinks about is the Absolute, for he is most likely the reason Gabriel is in danger. Now Lance is looking for any information related to this cult, both because it will save his brother and because it will save him from being turned into a mind eater. So he gets to Gortash and tries to find out anything related to Gabriel, but the latter surprisingly knows nothing, only suggesting that if anyone could get his brother, it's Orin. Lance makes a peace deal with Gortash, as he doesn't need an extra enemy or trouble right now. Having searched the whole city in search of the killer, having killed Sarevog, Lance finally found himself in Baal's lair, where he met Orin, and the latter, realizing that Gabriel is his brother, as if mocking, pointed to the altar with the bloody, obviously dead body of an adult red-haired Tiefling, in whose face Lance recognized his relative. Not holding back his emotions, the boy, without hesitation, enters into a fight with the bloody killer, during which he wins. His heart is broken, and his hatred for the Emperor sitting in the prism has only grown stronger.

Arranging the funeral Lance is devastated Lance longs for only one thing, to avenge the illithid in the prism, and put an end to the Absolute. So he finds Raphael, who gladly gives him a contract for the hammer that will free Orpheus, demanding only a crown in return. Lance doesn't need the crown, so he signs the contract, getting ready to go into the final battle. But realizing that he has no good equipment, he sneaks into the House of Hope, brazenly stealing from the man who helped him. Lance thought he'd get it all back after the battle, he doesn't steal his own contract, but meets Haarlep, who gets him into bed in exchange for his silence, so that Tiefling now loses his body as well. Now neither his brain nor his soul nor his body fully belonged to him. That wasn't the main problem now, the main problem was revenge. Together with Gortash Lance gets to the Absolute, trying to take the brain under control, during which Gortash dies, and the Emperor saves Lance. But the guy himself is not happy about this rescue, he directly says that he will free Orpheus and finish the illithid for leading him around by the nose. The Emperor leaves the Tiefling, switching to the Absolute side, and Lance and his team go to the last battle.

And what has Raphael got to do with the whole story, since I emphasize him so much in the artwork with my Lance?

Yes, because in the course of their encounters, my Tiefling succumbs to the charms of that devil's seduction without noticing it. (As do many of us). Which Raphael takes advantage of. Does the Cambion himself have feelings for Lance? Perhaps a rudiment of interest and lust. Still, I'm not forgetting the fact that Raphael is a narcissist and loves only himself.

(Oh my god, I hope there aren't too many mistakes here. Please forgive me if suddenly a sentence is written crookedly somewhere.)

[wisteriasymphony]

sooo… Emilie Agreste is a boy mom, right?

absolutely. insufferably so. the only benefit of having a girl would've been that her child would be a mini version of her, but otherwise raising girls is "too much drama" for her and adrien was a very "easy" kid.

plus, i think this sort of "devouring mother" archetype fits very well with Gabriel's parenting techniques. Emilie would (in a sense) "love too much" while Gabriel "loves too little", and yet neither of them really address Adrien's needs. Adrien is a pawn to them, a little doll they can use to play house, and both their displays of affection towards their son are exclusive to what benefits them. Emilie smothers her son to boost her own self-image as a "loving mother", whereas Gabriel's small crumbs of affection are just to maintain the relationship so Adrien will agree to continue being exploited as a model.

But yeah, I think Emilie is perfect for that creepy, no-boundaries, "a mother is her son's first love" territory. ex:

Adrien: Hey dude... when's the last time your mom slept in the same bed as you?

Nino: Idk, when I was like five, I think. Probably happened once or twice, dude. ....You?

Adrien: ..........last night :/ She keeps sneaking into my room really late, I guess. Even though I keep telling her not to :/

(yes i know emilie died before these two met like. shut up. shhhhhhh. this is to provide an example)

[tokillamockingbird427]

1st of all; of course Keegans an omega, have you seen him! Boys got birthing hips he needs to put them to use somehow. [speaking of which how ok are you with mpreg?I don't want to cross any boundaries]

2ndly; I imagine that the storage closet in Elias’s office is big enough to fit a mattress, so it's a pretty decked out nest in there, like i'm talking fairy lights and weighted blankets. It's about 80% Elias’s things, but Keegan has his stuff scattered around. It's very easy to tell when Keegan is in there napping because you can hear his sleepy puring through the door. Speaking of snacks, Elias has a mini fridge in his office that's stacked with all their favourites. It has a blanket hastily thrown over it to hide it from the others. [which surprisingly works].

3rdly; Absolutely like ducklings! In my version of omegaverse, if a pup imprints on somebody that they dont have a prior relationship with, that can cause their family to be investigated, so Gabriel definitely had custody of them both for at least a little while, to this day they both have rooms at Gabriel's place. Aside from that, he absolutely dotes on them and Ajax and Keegan can practically get away with anything as long as Gabriel is the first person to hear about it. I have a funny scenario exemplifying this in my head, would you like to hear it? Most of the time the other Ghosts use this to get extended breaks, like going to the beach instead of training.

Also Gabriel and Elias have a scoreboard hidden away somewhere that keeps track of how many times one of them gets called “dad” accidentally or otherwise.

-Omega

You right, you right. Man’s too pretty.

I assumed Mpreg comes with the territory that is omegaverse. Package deal kinda thing. (Good on you for double checking, pat pat. If somehow ambiguous; yes I’m alright with mpreg. Just don’t fetishize it.)

I fuckin love weighted blankets. Squish me, panini style.

That closet/nook literally sounds so cozy, I’d go and chill in there… and PURRING oml that’s adorable. He’s like a lil cat. (Catboy Keegan when?)

The blanket over the fridge working has me cackling. Stealth 100. Everyone else is just to dumb to see it. Wheeeeeze

Dad Rorke Dad Rorke Dad Rorke! Ajax and Keegan literally being his sons, him doting on them, aww. I’d love to hear this goofy scenario, hit me with it, open arms for goofy shit.

The Dad scoreboard lmao, they keep track of who gets called dad the most and who is calling them dad the most. Bragging and running bets about who has the most Dad moments.

[measuringbliss]

French Politics: Revenge of the Sith

MASTERPOST

Previously...

(click the link to see the animation; the text is otherwise available just below)

During Emmanuel Macron's first mandate, the government had it easy. The main challenge was to try and convince everybody in the country that ~le wokisme~ would lead to the end of civilization. It was also seen that having a presidential candidate financially supported by a certain Russian dictator was somehow acceptable. Adding to that, speaking out against the president became essentially banned on television. The 2022 presidential election was characterized by the left acting stupid, the right acting stupid, and the French middle-class being absolutely clueless. However, the left prepared for the legislative elections by uniting under the NUPES name...

So what can you expect to read about in this post?

In no particular order: bad nicknames, a prolonged game of musical chairs, the end of democracy, and Elon Musk. Yes, Elon Musk is involved.

Terribly, thank you.

With Macron re-elected at the end of April 2022, he had to elect a Prime Minister. As is tradition, his previous Prime Minister, Jean Castex, resigned at the end of Macron's first term, after already having replaced Edouard Philippe in the middle of the mandate.

ENTER: ELISABETH BORNE

1) BORNE-OUT

Borne had previously been minister of transport, minister of ecology and minister of labour, employment and integration. She had quite a reputation, as her previous coworkers had nicknamed her "Madame Borne-out" - an obvious play on her name and "burn-out". She was also nicknamed "Madame Bornée" (Madam Stubborn) and, as recently re-discovered, "Méchanta" (a feminized version of the word "Mean").

Obvious Prime Minister material, right?

So an incompetent wimp was followed by sadistic lady with no empathy. Surely things would go perfectly well.

2) LEGISLATIVES

Next came the time to elect representatives at the National Assembly. Wikipedia describes it as the lower house of the French Parliament, the other, higher house being the Senate. We don't care about the Senate (for now), because the National Assembly is what votes on laws, while the Senate theoretically moderates the NA. The NA is more proeminent and its members are elected by the people.

Basically, the National Assembly is the core battlefield of this game of musical chairs.

I know it may be a bit boring, but you need to understand the basics to understand the drama. Think of it as the opening episodes of a Game of Thrones season, before shit hits the fan.

The National Assembly is constituted by 577 members, which means the majority sits at 289 seats. Usually, the president's party has most seats and thus, can basically do what they want.

"Usually."

As stated in the opening crawl, the French Left united until a single name (while still retaining their individual parties): NUPES. Basically, they would support each other and try to put a single candidate in each territory, instead of fighting against each other. Two communist parties opted out, as they didn't appreciate the main (but weakened) left party taking so much space in the coalition.

So here are the key parliamentary groups: NUPES (the left union), LIOT (utilitarian center union; they don't necessarily share views), Ensemble (Together, Macron's union), UDC (the right) and RN (far-right).

"Nobody won," said Gabriel Attal, the government's spokesperson at the time.

Macron's Ensemble party got 245 seats, so they didn't get a majority. For a while, it was thought the NUPES (the left union) might get the majority, but nope, they "only" got 131 seats - still consequent. A very bad surprise, however, came in the form of the far-right getting 89 seats, a historical score and more than the right union (64). However, Nazi newcomer Eric Zemmour didn't secure any seat for his far-right party so hey, we'll take the small victories.

So let's talk alliances: the Left union had 131 seats (32%). The Right (Macron + UDC) had 245 + 64 (38% + 7%). LIOT was a wild card (or rather, comprised of wild cards). You might assume that Macron's party, definitely right-wing, would get on just fine with the other right union, and strategically-speaking, they have 309 seats, that is, the majority.

However... Les Républicains, UDC's main party on the right, is presided by Eric Ciotti.

Let's play a game.

Here are two Nazis. One pretends to follow the same ideas as the government, and one pretends to follow the same ideas as the government. Who's who? You've got two hours.

So the two Right coalitions don't see eye to eye, but don't worry! Gérald Darmanin, Minister of the Interior, said that Marine Le Pen (far-right) was "too soft". He also continually supports cops. So what I'm saying is that the two Right coalitions are enemies but also very similar. Still, a lot of pride and resentment.

This also means the government is majorly fascist. Surely nothing might go wrong.

3) ENTER: 49.3

What is 49.3?

Pronounced /ka.ʁɑ̃tnœftʁwɑ/, 49.3 is an infamous part of the French Constitution. Americans have the Second Amendment, well we have 49.3.

49.3 exists exactly to face the kind of situation that the National Assembly is in: with no guarantee that a law will be approved by the NA, the Prime Minister might be tempted to bypass it completely. In doing so, the Prime Minister opens the possibility for the opposition to submit a vote of no confidence. If the National Assembly approves the vote of no confidence, the law is rejected and the Government is disassembled - only the President stays. That means organizing new Legislative Elections. If the vote of no confidence is rejected, the law is approved, goes to the Senate, then goes back to the National Assembly for a second read.

There's a big limitation to 49.3: you can't use it at will. That would be preposterous. Imagine a Prime Minister using 49:3 eleven times in six months. Couldn't happen, right?

Elisabeth Borne, by whom I really mean Emmanuel Macron, decided to do exactly that.

Ordinarily, the Prime Minister (so Borne) is only able to use 49:3 once per year... except for laws related to finances. And oh, would you look at that, Macron had a big project planned for a long time:

la réforme des retraites

The idea is to basically extended how long we need to the national pool for retirement, before we can retire ourselves and benefit from pension. There's been a fair bit of manipulation here: the government announced they would prolong the length by two years, then less than that, then more.. But it doesn't account for people who do hard work like construction workers and the likes. People die before reaching that age. Among other young people, we often joke that we won't get any pension, but it's out of apathy, really. It's a horrible reform, it creates more gender inequality and most of all, it's unneeded. The government's justification is that it's necessary, otherwise the country will be heavily indebted by 2050, but it's obviously a pretext. Dozens of experts have said he's wrong - but Macron loves to listen to people who agree with him. Know what we could do instead?

Currently, there's a guy who's richer than goddamn Elon Musk. His name is Bernard Arnault. He's the richest (officially) guy in the world. He's also French. He could fund everybody's pension for decades.

So. Anyway.

People were opposed to that reform from the very start, even in 2019-2020. Our deputies at the National Assembly filibustered for a while (basically sending thousands of amendments to be studied, most notably the Left union NUPES, while the Far-Right party RN's attempt at filibuster were lukewarm at best). Macron (through his Prime Minister, Edouard Philippe) used 49.3 to bypass the amendments... but then there were a lot of protests, and do you know what else happened at that time?

COVID-19, our beloved!

One positive consequence of the pandemic was that the government was so busy facing it (with no competence whatsoever, aside from lying a lot to the population) that they just gave up on any bill they were trying to pass.

The pandemic didn't stop, but everyone pretended it did, so here we were in 2022, and Macron was once again trying to make everybody accept his goddamn reform. Once again, filibuster happened and then Macron (through his Prime Minister, Borne) started using 49.3 like there's no tomorrow.

From October to December 2022, Borne used 49:3 ten times. Then on January 23th, 2023...

"Look out! New rule!"

The government taught us there were more than 3 numbers...

Bitches, bros and nonbinary hoes: please welcome 47.1!

Pronounced ka.ʁɑ̃t.sɛtœ̃, 47.1 is the bad guy reappearing after you thought he'd been blown up already, but with broken teeth. It basically says to the deputies:

"Hey, if you don't vote for me quickly, I'll be automatically approved :-) Oh, and you can't filibuster your way through this either <3"

The bill would then go to the Senate (with a shortened debate time too), then again at the National Assembly.

"People know 49.3, it's very unpopular because it's brutal. But nobody knows about 47.1, it makes things easier for us," said a clueless Macron deputy.

People complained, because while they were confused at what exactly 47.1 entailed, they knew it was basically 49.3 with makeup.

Which it was.

4) NO CONFIDENCE

So the pension bill was voted at the Senate on March 11th, 2023. On March 15th, a Joint Committee approved it and added some stuff. On March 16th, the Senate approved the changes.

THEN IT WAS TIME... FOR THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY... TO VOTE FOR THE BILL AGAIN.

At this point, the bill was more than unpopular. Polls estimated than more than 70% of the French population was against the pension reform. The left-wing NUPES comprising 32% of the seats was very much against the bill. The far-right RN had also made it clear that they were against it (17%), as they'll do anything to be contrarian to the government - they're populists, after all. Even the right-wing-but-not-Macronist UDC (7%) was not very supportive of the bill - contrarians, proud, and a bit clueless too. But some of them truly believe the bill sucks, which is nice. They're not *all* unreasonable.

So Elisabeth Borne used her favorite secret weapon that we were beginning to miss:

i hope you appreciate my quality montage

Borne 49.3'd her way through the bill, inviting everybody to gang up on her for a vote of no confidence.

The next day, Friday, two motions were submitted:

the first one by LIOT, the center alliance. It was the most likely to be approved, contrary to...

the second one by RN, the right-wing party. It wasn't likely to be approved because the RN is (rightfully) stigmatized.

The votes would take place on the following Monday, after the weekend.

5) MONEY IS MAN'S BEST FRIEND

"Nobody asked you." (Arkunir proceeded to ratio Elon Musk a few more times, as well as Macron himself.)

Do you know how to easily get the approbation of a people who's protesting against a financial reform? Just get a billionaire to support you! I'm sure this will not make anything worse. Macron loves dem billionaires, after all he gave the Légion d'Honneur (an official reward) to Jeff Bezos, you know, the Amazon guy, earlier during his second mandate. Macron also has very shady links to McKinsey...

So anyway, what a weekend. Americans started speaking out, complaining about us lazy French (to them, I'll reply: mobilize for your rights!), in particular Elon Musk, who proceeded to get ratio'd (the Twitter equivalent of getting owned) multiple times by French people.

Meanwhile, Aurore Bergé, controversial chief of Macron's party for her many bad faith arguments at the National Assembly, enjoined the right to own up to what some of them had been saying against the bill for weeks. So she basically unintentionally motivated some right-wing deputies to vote favorably to the motions of no confidence.

"Let's all get behind Aurore Bergé!"

Naturally, a lot of people joked about it. Some of us almost thought she was trying to destroy the party from inside.

Monday arrived, and I couldn't do anything except watch the hours-long stream of the National Assembly, starting at 4pm.

One member of every party gave a speech, basically repeating what they'd been saying. It was boring, endless, and it ended with Adrien Quatennens, and oh my god I haven't even talked about him but who cares, he's irrelevant for this portion of our history, but I still had to mention him as he represented people who don't belong to a specific party. I'll probably explain the deal about him when the time comes to talk about the 2027 presidential elections. This post is already long enough as is.

Then the votes finally happened. There was an agonizing 30 minutes to vote, and at the end of the first one (LIOT's)... It hadn't been approved. Basically all of the left, the far-right and LIOT had voted, and we only needed about 25 members of LR (the right who's not with Macron). We got a few of them, but not enough. The second vote was irrelevant. We had lost.

OR HAD WE?

Protests kept going. Actually, protests got bigger. Without much consultation, protests took place in the evening just after the vote.

In fact, as I'm writing this, the protests haven't stopped.

6) So, are we in a totalitarian state?

Study.com did a helpful explanation of what is a totalitarian state that I'll condense in simple points:

Rule by a single party: Macron certainly likes to think that's the case.

Control of the media: You could make a case for this. Officially, we have freedom of speech. Unofficially, journalists can't contradict the president. The medias love to pretend they're neutral when they're decidedly not (and a lot of big medias are owned by a fascist billionaire).

Control of education: Does defunding public education count? Possibly. The state of education in this country is regrettable, in spite of a lot of professors trying their very best.

Control of the population through propaganda, terror and intimidation: Police brutality is generalized, and Darmanin, Minister of Interior, wrongly declared that it was illegal for unwarned protests to take place. The cops enforce this fake rule by fining people who're there with no reason. There is definitely an attempt to quell the rebellion, not by listening to opponents, but by pushing through.

Control of the economy: 11 uses of an anti-democracy failsafe for the economy certainly looks like it.

The Council of Europe, Amnesty International, Reporters Without Borders and Iran (yeah...) called out France for its police brutality. My university has been blocked for a week and a half and has already confirmed that it will be blocked next week as well. There are recordings - actual recordings! - where cops threaten young people, and we know this isn't a rare case at all. Lots of aggression.

A kid just died during his high school final exam because the adults refused to help him.

Marion Game, the French voice of Lois in Malcolm in the Middle or Mallory Archer in Archer, died. She was a beloved actress. I'll miss her.

Not all of this is linked to the rest, but France is having a hard time right now.

7) Remember who the real enemy is

On March 22nd, Macron did an interview at 1pm, obviously speaking to the only part of the population that loves his pension reform: people who're already retired. He repeated what he's been saying for years: "The French people elected me for my program." even though he acknowledged, when he got re-elected, that a consequent (the majority, in fact) part of his voters had only done so to counter the far-right.

Macron also said, "The [Insert offensive term for people who only earn minimal wage] have never had a better purchasing power," which is bold, both because he was even more condescending than usual, and also because EVERYTHING IS HORRIBLY EXPENSIVE.

Around the same time, the French journal Libération said the following:

"When on March 21, Macron said that 'the mob, whichever it is, has no legitimacy compared to the people who affirm its sovereignty through elections', he disowns democracy three times. First off, he disowns any popular aspect of the protests, regardless of what they are, because if the mob has no legitimacy (although it is supported by unanimous unions) over one of the biggest opposition protests of the history of the 5th Republic (even with the support of the vast majority of society, especially among the workforce)... It means a social movement can't be recognized as the voice of the people."

The two other ways, summarized:

Macron's opinion isn't the voice of the people, as he can still act against the nation's interest

opposing "the crowd" and "the electors" disowns social democracy, ie. workers unions, through which the people also speak

I think it's a great formulation of what's going on.

What do you mean, that's not a King Charles?

Things aren't that bad, though. Macron had to ask King Charles III to not come visit France right now. He didn't expect the protests to get worse (for him) after the failed vote of no confidence.

Adèle Haenel, one of the leads in Portrait of a Lady on Fire and real-life lesbian, spoke out in favor of the workers and said feminists had to take part in the fight.

We got our own version of MinetaGate: in an interview given to the main gay magazine in France, Têtu, Olivier Dussopt, the Minister of Labour, said two things:

He came out as gay, which is something that we, the gay community, immediately rejected

He said that the government might need to use 49.3 again

It worked out so well last time...

Anyway...

I'll simply conclude with what the chief of the General Worker's Confederation said in regard to this interview:

"Either [Macron]'s completely unfamiliar with our system and that's very serious, or he's fucking with us."

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Thanks for the tag @ghouljams.

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

I have six works on there.

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

36,414

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Call of Duty.

4. top five fics by kudos

Silver Tongues, Like Bullets

A Lick and a Promise

Broken Vows and Promises

Heavenly Saviour

To the Edge of Chaos

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes. Usually within a day.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Non of my fics have ended yet. But Forgotten Sorrows and Scorched Earth are most likely going to have very angsty endings. Broken Vows and Promises might also have a angsty ending but that's undecided at the moment.

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

A Lick and a Promise and To the Edge of Chaos have happy endings planned for them. Silver Tongues, Like Bullets is in uncertain territory at the moment.

8. do you get hate on fics?

I'm relatively new to writing so thankfully I haven't experienced any so far....that might change later on though.

9. do you write smut?

Yes....too much sometimes.

10. craziest crossover?

I haven't done a crossover as of yet.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, not that I know of. I pray to god it doesn't happen.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. Again I'm fairly new to writing.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes kinda. I've done ad-lips to blurbs from creators I love. It's mainly just me giving my two cents and the writers adding to it or just commenting on what I wrote. I've done drabbles for a Mafia Price fic with @groguspicklejar where we'd take turns adding to the story.

14. all time favorite ship?

Can I say Price and @ghouljams oc Witch? They've changed my brain chemistry.

I'm also quite partial to Farah and Alex. I absolutely love those two. Ghost and Soap is another great ship I support. But I also love Poly 141. Witch and Price are still my favourite though.

If I were to choose one of my own characters I have to say Princess and Gaz from my pirate fic.

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I started writing a original novel about a fantasy world with magical Fae when I was 16. It was a world completely cut off from humans though the fae knew of their existence.

The main character was a pegasus with wings made of Sunlight and Flames. Her name was Ifza. A name choosen by her parents in hopes she would become a protector for her people like her predecessors.

She was one of the many descendants of Haizum the Horse gifted to the Archangel Gabriel. A magical being known for being able to fly swiftly from one cosmic plane to another. Though those powers have lessened as the new generations were born.

From the same bloodline came a family of warriors sworn to protect the magical realm of Zuhur. The same family Ifza was born into. It was only a matter of time before humans exhausted the resources of their own world. It wouldn't be long before they set out to conquer another. It was just a waiting game at this point.

I know I'll probably never finished this idea mainly because when I first came up with it it was supposed to be a story based on me and my friend group but I've drifted away from them since I finished school and honestly my memories with some of the girls aren't the best so the characters I created based off them don't sit right with me anymore.

16. what are your writing strengths?

I'm not too sure. I have really got a grasp on my writing style yet. I like world/lore building. I can't say for sure if I'm good at it though.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Short fics. I'm not very good at pacing myself because I want to add so many elements to scenes but that just ends up making fics very long and sometimes a little redundant.

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I haven't really had a reason to use it. But in Scorched Earth and To the Edge of Chaos I'm looking forward to using phrases in other languages.

19. first fandom you wrote in?

Call of Duty

20. favorite fic you've written?

I'm rewriting it at the moment but I really like the general story I came up with for Forgotten Sorrows. And I really like Rún my oc. Though I'm not very nice to her most of the time.

No pressure tags: @groguspicklejar @peachesofteal @meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender

[head-post]

Macron summons top ministers to discuss New Caledonia violence

Two people were killed and three injured in New Caledonia as the result of the violent actions, French officials reported.

Unrest in New Caledonia continues for a third day over constitutional reform. The changes have infuriated the archipelago, which has long sought independence. The president also reportedly cancelled a trip he had planned to northwestern France on Wednesday as he focused on the crisis.

French authorities in the territory claimed more than 130 people had been arrested and more than 300 injured since Monday in New Caledonia violence that raged across the archipelago. For decades, tensions have existed there between indigenous Kanaks seeking independence and descendants of colonisers who want to remain part of France.

The special meeting of the defence and security council called by Macron usually brings together a limited group of officials, including Prime Minister Gabriel Attal and the ministers of defence, interior, economy and foreign affairs.

Minister of Interior and Overseas Territories Gérald Darmanin said one hundred gendarmes evacuated during the unrest.

Calm must absolutely be restored.

Nicolas Dupont-Aignan, leader of the Debout la France (France Arise), condemned the New Caledonia violence in his official X account:

A violent minority in New Caledonia will not intimidate the deputies who, today, will vote to unfreeze the electoral body to restore democracy. By referendum the Caledonians voted YES to France three times. Full support for law enforcement. Let’s not give in.

Read more HERE

[celestiall0tus]

I'm going to make this quick

So, I've finally caught up to Representation for Miraculous. I have some thoughts, but nothing like I did with Migration. That one hit a special nerve. Beware for any spoilers for Miraculous S5

Intuition:

Gabriel is ballsy. I do commend him for his risk and seeing the failures, but holy fuck. The whole thing with his afib and the heart beating made me squirm, but only because I suffer from heart problems myself, so it made me uneasy hearing that.

Pretension:

Ok. Feligami is cute.

Revelation:

Boring until Hoaxer, then it got interesting.

Confrontation:

Kudos to Sabrina for taking a stand. Also, short hair Lila is choice. Granted I love short hair on women.

Also, am I missing something, or did Juleka not have a speech problem back in season 1? It could just be me, but I thought she spoke fine at least until the later seasons when she started mumbling everything. Did I miss something?

Collusion:

Leave the fucking pregnant woman alone!! FFS!! I fucking get that Chloe is a brat and is gonna be that way, but Gabriel, leave the pregnant woman alone! Fuck! I nearly fucking cried when she got akumatized after dealing with all that stress of the day. FFS!

Now for the one (I assume) people are really interested in. Revolution:

I fucking laughed. So, yes, I acknowledge that in a fantasy, fictional world that kind of shit can happen. But in the real world and real world logic, there's no fucking way any of that would have happened. It's just like my nitpick with Jagged "just ripping up his contract." In the sense of our world, it wouldn't work. So, I don't know how to take this episode. I didn't hate it, but it did make me laugh with how nonsensical it was. So, it could have been worse.

Overall I didn't hate Chloe. She fulfilled her role well enough. I am more annoyed with Andre though. Kudos for wanting to fix your mistakes, but maybe grow a backbone and punish your daughter? No? Send her off with Audrey? Cool. Whatever.

Another thing I have is the fucking deus ex machina moment for Ladybug and Chat Noir. Fuck that shit. It's painfully obvious and while good deus ex machina moments exist, that wasn't one of them. I would have preferred there was more build up because, to me, they aren't grown up. They are still kids physically and mentally. Emotionally too. Fuck it, all around.

Now for spoiler territory. Representation:

I don't know. It could have been worse?

So, the story of the Agrestes and Graham de Vanillies was interesting, but a part of me wishes we learned in a different way. Or at the very least, not have Felix and Kagami act it out. I wanted to laugh so hard at it because it came off as so silly. Though I do like the idea that Adrien and Felix were literally miracle children. That I do love.

Also, this will be triggering to some and cause some hate, but I need to get this off my chest.

Felix, honey, I acknowledge that being called a monster all your life by someone who was supposed to "love" you is extremely damaging, but I don't think that necessarily make Colt a thousand times worse than Tomoe or any other abusive parents. I know pain is relative and it falls to the perspective of the individual, but I was expecting a lot worse. Again, it could just be me, but I expected so much worse from Colt than just controlling his son and calling him a monster. As far as I see it, Colt just falls in line with all the other shitty parents. Nothing special.

Last thing that confuses me is Chat/Adrien's nightmare. I get it's meant to be a reference to Chat Blanc and the danger he possesses, but why? As far as we know, Adrien would have absolutely no idea about those events, only Marinette. So, why that? I was honestly expecting something to do with him as Adrien, not Chat. But I guess we need to fabricate a reason for Adrien not to tell Marinette the truth and give him trauma. Right? Right?

And wouldn't he still remember it anyway despite the miracle being performed? It's a nightmare after all. That shit haunts you. And the way Gabriel made it sound was that it just bought their worst fears to the conscious rather than dwelling in the subconscious, y'know, as nightmares do. Also, no one tell Juleka, but if I'm reading her nightmare right, Jagged doesn't really love her. I don't care about the birthday episode since all we see is Jagged giving attention to Luka, not Juleka too. But that's just my hot take.

Last thing for Representation I want to call out. Marcaniel canon finally?! Yes please. You cannot convince me otherwise after seeing them away from the crowd, alone, holding hands, and about to do what we all know was gonna happen. First JuleRose, now Marcaniel. Best part of the episode.

This has been a L0tus rant. Have a lovely day.

[im-the-j-in-anthony-j-crowley]

The institutional problem

I think one of Metatron's phrases that makes me think the most is the one where he says that sending people to hell twice would make it an institutional problem. Because in that he is absolutely right, doing it twice would confirm that the problem is institutional. But doing it once still proves that, it's just easier to excuse

From the beginning it was not the right answer to dismiss them. Especially when we know that there is at least one demon that was taken out just for asking questions.

There are two other publications where I talk about the hierarchy of both heaven and hell. They might be of interest

I feel that what happened when they expelled the demons was that they took every angel who had committed the slightest revelation and branded them as the enemy. In the hope that all those who were left would be able to do the job, for all eternity. And never to reveal themselves

That is the reason why demons are seen as inferior. Because you should not consider being able to be like them.

But in the end, you can't hold that kind of idea for eternity. Not when you have demons and angels interacting with each other. Not when you have god talking to satan as if they're equals

We see demons and angels interact. We see how they talk to each other under very specific circumstances. The only problem is that the only ones who can make an institutional change are the angels. Because they are the only ones inside the system.

When you are outside the system, the only way to bring about change you have is:

A.- Destroying the system and building a new one (Armageddon).

B.- Convincing the members of the system that you are part of it and deserve rights

In the series itself option a has been discarded multiple times, and I feel it should stay that way, and it will stay that way. So I'm going to talk about option b

We know that the ultimate goal is for humans to be seen as equally rights-worthy entities, which is what Crowley and Aziraphale are trying to do. But I feel the issue that is not talked about before that, is that even before you get that acceptance, you need demons and angels to accept each other as equals. You're never going to get angels to empathize with humans when they're not even able to empathize with demons who were like them. The ones they worked with for who knows how long.

We have no example of a total acceptance of demons and angels as equals. We have two examples that are close to being so, but neither of them is total acceptance.

In both examples, humanity is the meeting point. It is the neutral territory. But both are examples of different ways of looking at humanity.

And then we have Crowley and Aziraphale, who connected on the basis of seeing humanity as equals. Who spent 6000 years deconstructing the ideas they had and learning to accept humans, and themselves. They haven't succeeded yet. But they are getting closer and closer to it.

For Gabriel and Beelzebub, Earth (and humanity) are the means to an end, they are simply the place where they can converse while ignoring their responsibilities. Yes, they connect a bit with the human stuff. But they never see them beyond a tool to an end. They connected based on the responsibilities they had in their respective positions, and it was the desire to be together that made them find a way to be together. That's why I don't think any of them end up seeing the institutional problems for what they are. They simply saw the system as something that did not allow them to be together. Ignoring all the other problems.

More about my vision of them here

I think the institutional problem is heaven defining as wrong every single thing that challenges them, and defining them as irreparable and deserving to be discarded. That everything is means to an end, and that if something can't reach that end, it doesn't deserve to continue.

I feel that the solution to the institutional problem is heaven accepting demons and humans as beings deserving of rights.

And I feel that this implies that what is about to happen is that we will see many more demons, and many more angels

[sixofravens-reads]

Finished Silver on the Road!

Ended up loving this book! It's set in a version of the Old West where a large chunk of what would irl be America is simply called the Territory, and is controlled by a man (?) known as the devil, potentially an Old God. It follows his foster child Isobel as she is tasked with becoming his "left hand"-- travelling the Territory and reinforcing his rule over the distant parts of it.

The magic in this book is super cool. Of course the Territory has its own powers: magicians who sell their souls for power and are guided by the winds, strange creatures varying from spirits to sort-of cryptids to Normal Animals But Weird, people who aren't fully magicians but have some small power tied to the land. It draws from a bunch of different sources, including some Native American lore (though imo it does a good job of not getting racist or exotic about it) and creates a really fleshed-out world. Nueva Espania and the US also seem to have their own sorts of magic, through nowhere near as powerful as the Territory (potentially because they've become "civilized").

Character-wise, I loved Isobel. She's freshly 16 and a wonderful blend of competence in a handful of things and incompetence in most of life, willing to learn but occasionally frustrated, never too overpowered or overly mature seeming (which is something that bothers me in YA--just because a 16 year old suddenly has magic powers doesn't mean they have the experience of a 30 year old!). Gabriel is also quite fun, the grizzled middle-aged trail rider who's able to train Isobel but also very annoyed at the hand fate has dealt him vis a vis all the weird shit that starts happening. Farron is an absolute delight, a "mad" magician who's never as bonkers as people make magicians out to be, but still terribly dangerous and cunning.

Spent the whole book crossing my fingers that this was a series, and IT IS!! so I shall have to read books 2 and 3 and the short stories as well.

Overall, 4.5/5 loved it, I think the only thing I'd change would be to tighten up the pacing a bit (but that might also be because I accidentally abandoned it for a few days and only got back into reading it last night, whoops).

ALSO! THERE'S NO ROMANCE!! THANK YE GODS!!!

Gabriel and Farron, the only potential romantic leads really, are both ~20 years older than Isobel (Farron probably even older since he seems to have an immortality thing going on) so it would have been Weird, but I was worried this book would do an Immortals/Pellinor thing where the teenage heroine has to fall in love with her adult mentor for....no reason whatsoever and it's just really uncomfortable.

Anyway, can't wait to pick up the next books. I hope there's more demons, and more magicians, and more Eldritch horrors lurking in unknown places.

[jac-is-procrastinating-again]

Fanfic Review - Free Trial Boyfriend by Angelsnuffbox, Mrs Caulfield

AO3 Fic Binge 2023 - Good Omens - Review 6

CONTENT: AU - Human, College, Friends to lovers, Crowley does ALL the pining, slow burn, Demi Aziraphale, getting together, Gabriel is still a tit.

RATING: Teen and up

LENGTH: Medium - 11 chapters, 37k words; main part of a longer series of other snippets.

RECOMMENDED BECAUSE: Demi Az is not something I've read much of yet, plus his reason for becoming a paleontologist made me cackle gleefully.

PLOT; Popular, handsome Crowley is on the swimming team for his college and his life is in pretty good shape... apart from his love life. Previously a bit of a player, he's slowly become aware that he's fallen for his best friend, oblivious paleontologist Aziraphale. Aziraphale, who we later discover is ace, misses every possible sign until at last Crowley has to 'fess up. Whilst Az isn't against the idea of dating, he's very uncertain about it all because it's absolutely new territory to him. So Crowley hits upon the genius idea of having a couple of weeks' trial run, where they do dating type things but it's understood that they'll make the decision as to whether they're actually dating or not at the end of the "free trial". What could possibly go wrong??

BOOKMARK: Probably yes. Haven't read many where they explore one of them being ace and this seemed to be very respectfully handled.

READ IF YOU: like a slow burn, mild disaster, friends to lovers fic. Seeing as how I have apparently got into the habit of likening fics to foodstuffs*, I'm gonna call this one cheese on toast, but nice cheese on proper wholemeal; undemanding but pleasingly flavourful. *And if you are thinking right now that I probably need more sleep, you are absolutely right.

[livia-dovehallow]

continued answering anon asks here to redact spoilers!

tbh I dont want to think about [redacted] post tlh, but reading [redacted] made me I hated it, I can see them becoming very territorial with [redacted] and not wanting anyone [redacted] for a while, I can see [redacted] in a way to ease the pain and [redacted] as she can't look at her fav weapon anymore, I couldnt stop thinking of [redacted] trying to mess with [redacted] and him not responding [redacted]... Im so sad :(

Please if you keep writing do fics of [redacted] I dont want to think of them this way

**SPOILER WARNING**

:(

thinking about everything that happened to them throughout this entire goddamn book makes me so sad

I definitely agree that they would be insanely protective of Alex after that. likewise, I envision that for at least a couple of years, Alex doesn't let anyone hold him except for his parents or Anna (and occasionally Ari, since he would be more familiar with her as time went on)

and yes I do think that it is not possible that Gabriel or Cecily would go the rest of their lives without some sort of depression or ptsd. and absolutely i can see Cecily throwing away all her knives in a fit of rage and grief and Gabriel just letting her let it out while making sure she doesn't hurt herself in the process either

Gabriel being unable to go to council meetings anymore because to him, if he wasn't at that meeting, he could have saved his son because he would have still been in London. so he doesn't go to them anymore because now he associates them with something terrible happening to his family and it's enough to end his involvement with the political side of the shadowhunting world

I have these headcanons, but I will probably never write them, since literally I think that even though Gabrily survived, the worst things happened to them and writing those moments goes well beyond angst into just pure grief and i physically cried when i thought about it

i love them too much to write them like that

[san-fics]

Breaking the rules

Felinette, Felix/Marinette, Felix/Ladybug

Part 4

MDC: this is so weird

Mr.X: what exactly?

MDC: i can’t believe u r in Paris

MDC: and just sitting at some school

MDC: just like me

Mr.X: not yet

MDC: we have someone new coming to our class as well today

MDC: the teacher just told me

MDC: can u imagine if it was u

MDC: how great it would be

Mr.X: not as great as u think

MDC: moody much, mister?

Mr.X: it’s my mom

Mr.X: i don’t know what she’d expected

Mr.X: but my uncle is a jerk

Mr.X: she doesn’t show it, but i know she wants more from this family

Mr.X: then it can give

MDC: wow, he must be really pissed u off

MDC: u don’t usually give away that much that easily

Mr.X: whatever

MDC: sorry

MDC: didn’t wanna add to yr mood

Mr.X: u didn’t

Mr.X: and i don’t have a mood

MDC: right

MDC: but it would be nice anyway to have u here

MDC: anyway

MDC: gotta go to class now

MDC: talk tonight?

Mr.X: i guess

Mr.X: by

Felix put the phone in his pocket.

The morning was cold at Gabriel’s house. Colder then his mother deserved. It wasn’t the family she was looking for, and Felix knew it, but his mother still had some hopes. He was fine with this for now. He had another ring to get for her anyway.

The car stopped and they went out in front of the school.

Adrien gave him the ‘be a good boy’ talk in the car, like Felix would even listen to him. He was writing to his MDC friend all the way to school and she read him again, or did he really start to show her more then was absolutely necessary?

When did it even happen that he started to share his emotions with her? Non less then about his mother, which was closed territory for strangers.

He probably should be more careful and talk to her less. Because this new thing of having someone to share emotions with wasn’t gonna end well. He wanted an intelligent company to talk, yes. But he wasn’t sure he needed a friend in his life.

And yet he couldn’t deny she was already important. It approached the border when she could become too important, and there would be no turning back, and Felix would only have to move forward. And he wasn't sure he was willing to let this happen again.

He had good reasons to keep people at a distance, and before making an exception, he wanted to make sure that he was well protected this time. He had a week to prepare himself.

He wanted to see her and he didn’t want to want to see her even more. Because she was good. Better then many. He wasn’t gonna say ‘better them anyone else’, cause he wasn’t made for romance like that. Not anymore.

But if they met and he confirmed what he already knew was coming, he had to be ready for a fight.

He wasn’t afraid of her silly crush on the idiot-boy, nor her ex-boyfriend, because one was stupid enough not to notice her around, and another week enough to let her go. And Felix was a lot of things, but not an idiot like that.

And when a week ago she said so easily, almost accidentally that he had a fear of losing her, and when he took a week after that to clear his head and came to the conclusion she was right, he was almost sure then. That the moment they meet he’ll have one of two options. To stop any personal connection with her from now on — because she’d be only qualified as a friend, and friends were not something he needed in his life. The second option was more possible: she’d be what he’d expected, and he would need to make her his.

Because he already needed her more then just a talking body. Something about her was making him break his own rules without even noticing it. Something about her was making him change. Something about her was making him need her. And it was a breaking point.

Because he didn’t need anyone.

Because anyone could go away, lie to him, betray him. Just like another girl did with his own ‘friend’. Just like his father did. And now he could only deal with people on a distance or in his total power. He didn’t need anything in between.

Felix didn’t notice how he was presented to the class and sent to the back seat. He was too much in his own thoughts and the people around weren’t important enough.

So when something started to move just in front of his face, he was confused, and it brought him back to reality.

A girl was shaking her hand in front of him, probably trying to get his attention. Here it comes, unnecessary communications. And he was sure the people in Adrien’s class already knew they must stay away from him.

“What?” He asked coldly and turned his head to the girl on the next seat.

He didn’t know her name, but he remembered her face from the video his cousin’s friends made for him, in which she looked over-friendly and said she loved Adrien or something like that.

Pathetic.

It was probably the thing that pissed him off that time, because how much more stupid those people could be?

“As a class representative I have to show you our school.” The girl didn’t look friendly this time. She obviously wasn’t pleased with a perspective of helping him and didn’t even hide it. “Are you comfortable of doing it during the lunch break?”

“I don’t need any guidance. I’m able to find everything i need by myself.” There. This must be enough to shake her off seeing she was probably looking for an excuse herself.

“I have a duty, and I’m gonna fulfill it.” She said instead. “If you aren’t comfortable with it, talk to the teacher, so she will remove this obligation from me. Otherwise I’ll be waiting for you at the beginning of the lunch break next to this class room.” She finished with cold voice that could even bit his own.

This was... interesting.

So this girl wasn’t so sweet and cuddly she was trying to show to his cousin. There was actually a solid rod inside her.

It could be fun to check how strong the rod was.

*

The tour was fast and rigid, consisting mostly with short comments or just words like ‘gym’, ‘library’, ‘art room’, ‘you can have your lunch here’, ‘you can leave your stuff in there’.

Felix could see the girl was still angry with him, which was stupid of course. He was a jerk to her and her friends — no question there, but why would one spend their energy for those emotions for so long? He preferred to cut the people off his life at once and forget about them.

“We can end here.” She said, bringing him to the school cafeteria again. “If you don’t have any questions.”

He looked at her face and shook his head, saying nothing.

She was looking at him in indecision, like she wasn’t sure if to say something else. Then she sighed and said.

“Wellcome to our school. You can ask me if you need something else.”

Then she just turned and went toward the tables.

She was definitely not as simple as she showed to everyone around. And strong. He could see the way she just overcame her negative emotions toward him to welcome him in the school, even it wasn’t necessary, as it wasn’t technically her job.

Felix decided to observe a little longer.

The girl came closer to the table where Adrien was sitting with his other classmates. But before she could sit on the last empty chair, another girl went fast in front of her and made an attempt to sit there first.

Felix could say the second girl was waiting for class rep to come closer, even she had all the opportunities to sit there before. Something was off, and Felix was curious what.

“Oh, Marinette, you wanted to sit here?” The second girl said. “Oh, it’s all right. I can just find another seat. My foot doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.” She made a step away from the table and immediately gasped, presumably in pain, clutching her leg.

“Marinette!” Another girl from the table wearing the glasses exclaimed. “Can’t you see Lila’s in pain?! How can you be so inconsiderate. You are a class rep after all.” She stood up, helping the girl with a leg to the empty chair.

Marinette — which was apparently the class representative’s name — just sighed and turned to walk away.

Felix was watching the faint smirk with which the liar looked after her victim. Because all the scene was obviously a set up, and from the frown expression on Adrien’s face, he could see it too.

Adrien stood up, looking in the direction of the leaving girl, and made a move toward her. But the Lila-girl grabbed his hand.

“Oh, Adrien!” She called with a corny voice. “Couldn’t you update me on the last topic at physics class? You know I couldn’t come to school last week because of my foot.”

“I wanted to join Marinette for lunch.” Adrien said calmly, trying to free his hand.

“Oh. I see.” The liar looked sad and hurt, but didn’t let go of his hand.

“Adrien, you know you are the best on physics in our class.” The girl with glasses said. “You could help Lila. She needs you more right now. Marinette isn’t going anywhere.”

Felix saw the conflicted expression on his cousin’s face. He clearly knew the girl was manipulating, but wanted to follow her lies anyway? Why? Not to disappoint those ‘friends’ of his? That was probably the reason. Gabriel usually used the same trick on him at home. And Adrien-the-perfect-boy buys it every time.

Disgusting.

Adrien took one last look in the direction of Marinette and sat back at the table. Felix turned away.

He saw enough.

[about this au] [part 1]

[part 3] ... [part 5]

[more MLB fanfic]

[emsylcatac]

What the future holds, we'll never know

Summary

Marinette didn't know what the future was made of—but the glimpse of the one featuring her akumatised partner she had seen taught her one thing: she and Chat Noir should never be together.

Which currently wasn't really a problem considering that she was in love with Adrien, and that they had been getting closer lately.

Read it on AO3

Hiiii @ladynoirist Lisa gemini bro ♥♥♥ I was soooo happy to be your totally secret (yes pretend you never guessed it was me okay I was so subtle) santaaaa for the @mlsecretsanta !!! (also pretend we're totally in December and not in May ho ho ho! Reindeers are still roaming!)

I'm so sorry for how late I am, but I hope you'll enjoy this fic 😄

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, 1h after the reveal

Marinette stood in front of the bistro door, pacing. Pretending to look at the menu, pretending to think of what to choose, pretending that everything was absolutely normal and fine and this was just a perfectly normal day.

It was, however, not normal nor fine inside her head.

She had to push that door. She was already a good half an hour late and it wouldn’t do good to make her friends wait longer—excuses were harder and harder to explain the more she shied away.

Please, don’t be here. She never thought she would hope for that. Please have your bodyguard bring you home. Your father forcing you to go home.

Please, go home by yourself and find some stupid excuse.

She would feel bad for having all these unfair hopes if she hadn't been feeling completely panicked inside.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Gulping, she chanced a glance at it.

Alya girl where are u?? we’re waiting to order!

Well. She couldn’t delay for much longer. Taking a deep breath, Marinette pushed the door open and scanned the room.

Please, please don’t be inside.

She wasn’t being fair, she knew that—it wasn’t his fault if she didn’t feel like facing him.

“Marinette!”

She turned in the direction of her name where Alya was waving at her, hand held up high, while Nino was grinning and—he was there.

Swallowing—though her mouth had been dry for a while now—Marinette headed towards them despite her legs screaming at her to turn around and run as fast as possible away from here.

“H-hey,” she stuttered, “sorry for...for being late.”

She sat next to Adrien (because of course she had to be seated next to him). Their eyes met for a split second and he gave her a timid smile that she couldn’t return.

“It’s fine,” Alya waved off, “the most important thing is that you’re here now! But quick, choose what you want to eat, I’m staaarving!”

She, for one, clearly wasn’t.

Adrien was giving her quick glances and she tried her best to ignore him.

It was him, it was him, it was him.

And it was oh so unfair. She picked up her menu to hide her face as tears threatened to escape  the corners of her eyes.

───※ ·❆· ※───

5th of October, 108 days before the reveal

“Try that.”

Marinette turned around, abandoning the search for her size amongst the many red skirts on the clothes rail.

Adrien was holding a tacky glittery dress, reflecting  the light of a multitude of disharmonious colours, supporting two red fabric-flowers on each shoulder straps. It was positively horrendous, the kind of clothes you wonder who would ever buy when passing in front of it in the store.

She looked up to Adrien’s innocent smile and had to bite down the disgusted expression she suspected she must have shown for a split second. She hoped he hadn’t noticed—the last thing she wanted was to offend him. Growing-up in the fashion industry didn’t make him a good judge in the field, it seemed.

“I… You want me to...to try that on?” she stammered.

He gave her a nod, humming enthusiastically.

Maybe it was the kind of dress Adrien saw on girls at fashion shows, and she just hadn't seen it before. Maybe he liked it on them.

Maybe he would find her pretty in it.

Against her better judgement (because her judgement was always lost when it came to him, wasn’t it?), Marinette stretched a hand towards the piece of clothing, gulping. She raised her eyes to his, offering a tight smile.

Adrien’s mouth twitched, and his eyes held a new mischievous glint that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago.

“You...you’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?” she said, deflating.

He burst out laughing, a genuine, happy laugh that reminded her of a certain day in the rain, and she couldn’t help but smile despite herself.

“You should have seen your face!”

He hadn't made fun of her in a while—in fact, he hadn’t laughed at her since that day, in the rain. The thought of him being comfortable enough with her to allow himself to do it again made her cheeks heat up.

“I could...I could call your bodyguard or...or your dad! Yes! I could call your dad and out you, you know!” she threatened, fighting back the nerves that always messed up her words when she spoke to him.

She wouldn’t mess up today.

It stopped Adrien momentarily and suddenly he was pleading her, begging with joined hands.

“Marinette,” he said, and he did sound serious—she would have been convinced had his eyes not looked a tad too much like a kicked puppy’s, “please, you can’t do that. Please please please please, I’m sorry for ruining your shopping day and running into you and insisting to tag along and—”

Marinette giggled. “I’ll wear it,” she said, snatching the terrible (terrible!!) dress from his hands, careful to not brush his fingers and make it awkward. “Because unlike you who’s trying to hide, I’m no coward.”

Adrien straightened up. “I’m no coward either!”

She could feel her heart beating erratically in her chest. She wasn’t nervous. She wasn’t gonna be nervous when talking to Adrien. Not again. Not this time. She could banter with him—this was known territory. Not with him though, never with him, but…

“Okay,” she crossed her arms. Her eyes scanned  the different clothing items before landing on a pink plastic fur dress on a mannequin. “Prove it.”

He choked on a laugh before grinning at her. “Oh, you’re so on.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

16th of November, 66 days before the reveal

Adrien opened his diary, ready to write down the homework of the day Mrs Bustier was dictating.

The sound of ruffling papers and rummaging in bags filled the classroom, but he tried to focus on one sound in particular, resisting the urge to smile.

Any moment now.

Just a little longer before—

A loud groan resonated from behind him, and this time he let the grin slip onto his face, thankful that she couldn’t see it.

“What’s wrong?” Alya’s whisper made its way to his ears.

“Someone drew me with a towel on the head, swimming glasses and an ugly party dress!”

Adrien couldn’t help the snort that escaped him.

Teasing Marinette, he found, was very entertaining. He didn’t know exactly when he started to feel comfortable enough to do it. Didn’t know what exactly it was that was making it deliciously familiar yet all so new—and above all, warm.

Her reaction had been worth the wait. He  silently delighted in the way she battled between raging against him and finding him hilarious (because with the way she giggled, or stammered, or even bit her lips the few times he had joked with her, before getting ahold of herself and teasing back, she had to find him hilarious, right?).

He guessed he deserved the ruler slap he received on the head.

Yes, Adrien liked her reactions, he thought while rubbing his head. He liked that new, teasing  dynamic he’d been having with her for a couple of weeks now. He liked it.

But above all, he loved—

Adrien let a soft fond smile pull at his lips when he opened his diary that evening, once seated at his desk. A drawing quickly scribbled in the margin lit up by his many computer screens welcomed him of what he assumed was a new Gabriel ad featuring him in an atrocious fur dress coloured in fluro pink highlighter.

Above all, he loved her witty and sneaky comebacks.

───※ ·❆· ※───

8th of December, 44 days before the reveal

“What are you thinking about?”

Ladybug saw a smile stretch across her partner’s lips. He let out a fond chuckle, throwing his head up towards the sky. His eyes were closed, but she could tell that he was seeing more stars that way than if they had been opened looking up at the Parisian sky. She envied him a little.

“I’m thinking,” he simply said.

And didn’t say anything after that.

She waited a little, just in case, but he remained silent. His feet dangled above the edge of the roof and he started gently swinging his legs one after the other. He let out a breathless giggle, as if he couldn’t control it, and hummed a song her ears caught only because of the wind blowing towards her.

Her heart did a somersault in her chest at the sight. She felt a weird mix of emotions, not unpleasant but not entirely enjoyable either, bittersweetness and happiness mingling together.

He did look happy—but tonight it felt like she wasn’t a part of it. That he was in his own bubble of joy, a bubble she once had complete control over but, in that instant, was slipping through her fingers. If she was being honest, it had been slowly and subtly escaping her for a while now.

He was in love, she realised. Her gaze on him softened, before she turned away from him to look towards the sky, too, and exhaled a puff of hot air that dissipated in the cold and continued to grow as she joined him in his humming, closing her eyes.

If she wasn’t the one he was shining for tonight, she would still share that moment of exhilaration with him.

Besides, she had reasons to feel giddy herself too.

───※ ·❆· ※───

29th of December, 23 days before the reveal

“Hey.” Plagg’s voice wasn’t loud enough to pull Adrien out of his reverie completely, but enough to bring the cloud he was on a little bit back down to Earth. “You’ve been staring at the ceiling for the past twenty minutes now. What’s up?”

Adrien let the thread of his lucky charm pass through his fingers, feeling the beads between them rolling from one to another. “I have?”

Plagg stayed silent for a few seconds. “Yes. Are you alright?”

Adrien chuckled. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.” I have been for a little while now, he didn’t say.

Suddenly, he got up, walked towards his computer, picked up his phone from his desk and opened Instagram. His fingers quickly found Marinette’s name and pressed her icon to see her latest story. He smiled as a selfie of her and Alya appeared, and played it again once it was over.

“Ah. I see.” Adrien hadn’t noticed Plagg flying above his shoulder but he couldn’t care less. “You like her?”

“I love her,” he simply corrected.

“Really?! Planning on asking her out? Sweeping her off her feet?”

Adrien shook his head, chuckling. He put his phone back on his desk and let himself fall further in his seat, pushing his feet against the desk leg to propel himself back.

Marinette, Marinette, Marinette.

“We’ll see,” he stretched his arms above his head. “We’ll see what happens and when I feel that the time is right. I don’t want to mess it up. Not this time.”

Not with her.

───※ ·❆· ※───

11th of January, 10 days before the reveal

When she found Adrien waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs that morning, blushing, a hand rubbing the back of his neck, the other holding a yellow rose with red tips on the petals and stammering a simple yet powerful “I think I love you”, Marinette was glad she had been on time for school for once.

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, 1h before the reveal

“I can’t believe you made me wake up at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning,” Marinette shook her head.

Adrien laughed and held her hand tighter as he pulled her along with him, striding alongside the Seine. “But you have to admit that it was worth it.”

Spending time with you is worth the world, she thought. I could wake up at five if that’s what you wanted. She didn’t say any of that out loud. They had only barely started dating, after all. It could scare him off.

Instead, she let half a smile pull at her lips. “I suppose.”

Adrien stopped in his tracks and turned to her. “It was worth it! It just snowed during the night—for once! It’s so rare, we have to enjoy it! And the sunrise was beautiful!”

She crossed her arms, pretending to think about it and evaluate her morning.

“It was,” Adrien insisted, pleaded for her to agree.

“Fine,” she conceded, giggling. “It was beautiful. I’m glad you forced me out of bed.”

She was rewarded by a brilliant smile, that melted her heart despite the cold January air on her cheeks, and a kiss on her forehead (that melted her whole).

A giddy laugh escaped her and she couldn’t help but kiss his nose, making him giggle, the sound sweeter than the glockenspiel a busker was playing a few meters away.

Adrien’s cheeks were red when she pulled away—from the cold or from her kiss, she didn’t know, but she hoped for the latter. She decided to grab his winter hat, leaving his hair all messy on top and wide eyes of outraged shock on his face. Adrien, she had realised, really liked when she was messing with him and she berated herself for never having dared to do such a thing before.

In retaliation, he grabbed her own hat and put it on his head. “Jokes on you,” he said, “now I have a pink pompom while you have a lame black one!”

She laughed as she put his hat on her own head. He likes me, she chanted in her head. He loves me even. He loves me, he loves me, and I love him.  All was well that day. All was perfect.

“When are we meeting up with Alya and Nino for lunch, again?”

“I think we still have an hour,” Adrien replied.

It felt like nothing could disrupt their date, their day, them, really.

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, the reveal

Accidents were stupid, most of the time. One second of miscalculation, one careless mistake and every neatly protected secret could be disrupted forever.

Detransforming in the same alleway was probably the stupidest, lamest and most careless way to reveal their identities, Marinette and Adrien thought, as they faced each other with wide eyes and heart beating too fast in their rib cages with their kwamis hanging incriminatingly at their side.

Marinette didn’t think. She ran.

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, 1h30 after the reveal

To say the atmosphere was awkward was an understatement. They were barely glancing at each other, passing each other the salt without brushing a finger or looking where they handed it.

Marinette overfilled Adrien’s glass when pouring him some water; Adrien startled when Marinette’s hand accidentally brushed his arm while trying to clean his table up.

They were a mess.

In a way, Marinette was glad that Alya and Nino were here to provide distraction.

She just hoped they wouldn’t notice the tension between her and Adrien.

“So, how have you two lovebirds been doing? Still in the chummy-chummy phase?”

So much for that. There was an awkward silence, none of them knowing what to really say.

“Sure,” she decided to take the plunge and ate a mouthful of fries so she wouldn’t have to explain further.

Alya and Nino said nothing, looking between the two of them.

“We’ve been, uh…we went walking around the Seine this morning,” Adrien mumbled. “To see the snow and, uh…”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Marinette cut. She couldn’t believe she was managing to talk to him. “Y-your...your winter hat.”

She handed it to him and Adrien looked at it for a few seconds before taking it back, his face crumbling and disheartened.

“...Thanks. Um, here is yours, I suppose.”

Marinette closed her eyes tight as she snatched her hat from his hands, feeling nauseous all of a sudden.

Where did they stand, now? They had barely even started dating. Could they brush off the massive new developments that were their identities? Could superheroes even date?

White flashed before her eyes. Her heart did a somersault, and the nausea intensified, making her head spin.

Stupid. Idiot, superheroes couldn’t date, least of all her and Adrien.

It was unfair that she was having these thoughts now, when she still didn’t know what was going on in her head—Adrien, Chat Noir, her partner. The same… so similar yet so different.

He had given her a rose when he had confessed. It was such a Chat Noir thing to do...she should have known.

They were the same person and it was awkward and she needed time she didn’t get the luxury to have. The second she thought she had acknowledged this information, it would all come back the next with the panic accompanying it.

The silence following must have been long and heavy because Alya took in a sharp breath. “Okay. What’s going on between you two? You’ve been acting awkward since we’ve got here.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

23rd of January, 2 days after the reveal

“So, this is it?”

Adrien felt the knot in his throat tighten a little more and more as Marinette kept looking to the side, silent, avoiding his gaze. He didn’t know why he asked; he knew the answer. And he knew that hearing it would cut like a knife, but maybe that’s what he needed instead of foolishly pretending there was hope.

“This...this is it,” she finally said in a breath.

He swallowed. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeated.

“I… okay.” Okay. Because what could he say? It wasn’t like he could decide for her.

If it was only on him, of course he wouldn’t want anything to end. Of course he would fight for them, and try and see where they’d go, identities be damned because...well, it was still them, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?

“I’m sorry. I...I really am. It’s just… It’s…” Marinette sighed. “It’s just that it’s a lot to take in, you know?”

She had finally raised her eyes to his, and Adrien had to fight back tears; maybe it would have been better if she had continued to avoid him.

So he was the one to turn his eyes away this time.

“I guess,” he couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice to show through. “I just...I didn’t know it would be so bad.”

“It’s not! It’s not that! It’s just that… we still...we still need to get used to this,” she gestured between them, “and… superheroes ca—”

“—can’t date, I know. I understand. I mean—not completely, but... I get it.”

And he did; really, he did get it.

It was selfish of him, probably, to not want things to stop. He found that it was also maybe a little selfish of her to want them to.

None of them had decided to be heroes—and yet they had to bear the consequences of such a responsibility.

Looking back at her, she had now dropped down her eyes and wasn’t watching him anymore. A strong gust of wind blew on the balcony, making Marinette’s hair wave with it.

“It’s getting late,” Adrien spoke. “And you’re freezing out here. I should get going. We’ll see each other tomorrow at school.”

He extended his baton.

“Adri—Chat Noir! Wait!”

She grabbed his tail, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around. She was fidgeting, and looked tentatively into his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I hope it’s not...I hope it’s not too hard but…”

He sighed. “I’m not gonna lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt. It...it does. A lot. It’s like…” he sighed. “It’s like we had everything, and then…” He paused. “But I guess… none of us can control the way we feel, right?”

She nodded numbly. He attempted to give a smile, but he knew he wasn’t doing a good job at it.

“I just wished I knew what’s wrong with me, “ he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“I… it’s not… I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you,” Marinette tried. He could hear her voice trembling. I don’t think there’s anything right with me either, he didn’t say—and she didn’t say either, he noted with a bitter smile. “We’re just a mess right now.”

She bit her lip and he had to force to keep his eyes on hers. He felt terrible. Worse than all those times she had rejected him, because—well, because now he knew just how much he was losing.

“That we are.”

“We’re still...we’re still friends, right?” she asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.

“It’s you and me against the world, so… of course.” He shrugged.

And with that, he left, finally letting the tears blur his vision on his way home.

Tonight, their old promise sounded more bitter than comforting. Them against the world, the heroes fighting for the city, forced together by their duty and pulled apart at the same time.

───※ ·❆· ※───

23rd of January, 2 days after the reveal

Marinette rushed back inside her bedroom as soon as Adrien had left and threw her head in her pillow, crying her heart out. Screaming to Tikki how unfair it was to have to be responsible, at Master Fu for choosing this life for her, at herself for following it, at Adrien and Chat Noir for being the same people.

Shouting at Adrien again, at another Adrien she hadn’t even really known that it was all his fault. His fault, his fault, his fault, all his fault. She knew it was unfair of her—but she needed to put the blame on someone, and Chat Blanc, who didn’t exist anymore, seemed like a good candidate, no matter how wrong she knew it was.

───※ ·❆· ※───

24th of January, 3 days after the reveal

“...My father wanted us to break up.”

Marinette shrunk on herself. She wished she had been able to come up with a better excuse on the spot. Anything that would have avoided Adrien’s cold and numb tone when he repeated her flimsily excuse.

But nothing sounded plausible enough; nothing else could explain this sudden change in their dynamic.

“It...it was a surprise, really, we weren’t expecting it,” she tried, hoping he would follow her lead.

Adrien clicked his tongue. “A surprise, indeed.”

“Aaaand you didn’t think of dating in secret becaaause…?” Alya drawled, the cease in her brow increasing the longer she looked between the two of them.

“Because… well… because…” Marinette fumbled, trying to think  of a way out because Alya wasn’t wrong and it was a flaw in her carelessly crafted plan.

“Because Marinette didn’t want to,” Adrien supplied curtly.

Alya and Nino’s heads snapped towards her with incredulous looks in their eyes, making her involuntarily shrink on herself even more.

“She said it wasn’t worth a try,” he shrugged and sat down, his back now to her.

Alya looked between the two with a mix of worry, incomprehension and a hint of pity. Marinette didn’t dare look at Nino to see what emotions would flicker in his eyes.

“That’s not it, it’s…” she struggled, took a deep breath, and tried again. She had to roll with what he came up with. “If he were to find out we...we’d be in trouble. You’d be in trouble… and I don’t want that,” she whispered the last words.

“Like I said,” Adrien said coolly, half turning towards them. “Not even worth a try.”

Her heart crumpled.

───※ ·❆· ※───

26th of january, 5 days after the reveal

“Chat Noir, you’re here!” Marinette exclaimed, relieved.

He twirled his baton, deflecting a spurt of gooey green liquid she could only dread to know the composition of—some akumas truly were more disgusting than others to deal with. “As for every akuma.” He raised a brow. “Don’t act so surprised.”

She startled. In the midst of all the action, in the hope and wait for his arrival—because she always felt bolder and stronger once her partner was by her side—she had forgotten.

This was Adrien, her ex-boyfriend with whom she had broken up and had upsetted. And who still wasn’t talking to her much. Thinking about him as ‘ex’ suddenly hurt as she realised it was the first time she was referring to him as such in her head.

Marinette blinked back remorseful tears and tried ignoring the tightness in her chest to focus on the akuma again. She still needed to find where the akumatised object was, and she couldn’t let her emotions get in the way of her job.

She decided to pretend things were fine. “His name is Snowtty, we don’t know the victim but it’s a kid who was made fun of for having a runny nose after receiving a snowball in his face. Try to avoid his green spurts, they would freeze you on the spot!”

Adrien barely nodded before jumping into action, without so much as a word of acknowledgement like he would usually do. It hurt more than she would care to admit.

She knew they hadn’t talked since that evening on her balcony, but she had hoped he just needed time to process and that it wasn’t deeper than that. He had said they were still friends, hadn’t he?

Trying to ignore the sting in her eyes, she jumped after him into the fight.

“Ladybug! I see your pet has arrived to the scene as well,” Snowtty sneered. “All the better for me, I need both your miraculous after all!”

“I’m my own person, thank you very much,” Chat Noir said, none of his usual teasing in his voice. “And you won’t be getting any miraculous. Why don’t you give us your akuma instead and save everyone’s time? You’re just gonna lose like the others do, anyway.”

The akuma let out a growl of frustration and double-fired in their direction. Marinette ran for cover using her yoyo as a deflecting shield, Adrien using his baton.

He didn’t take cover with her.

She called him and was almost relieved when he picked up.

“Okay, he’s angrier than I thought he was. Any idea where the akuma could be?”

“You’re telling me you don’t?” he raised a brow. “He’s throwing his substance from that bracelet he has on his left wrist, and there aren’t any other objects.”

It seemed obvious now. But she wasn’t at the top of her game and was far too focused on her relationship with her partner than she was on the fight at hand, and she realised how detrimental it could be—not letting her personal life interfere with her duties as Ladybug was one of the rules she had promised herself to never break, yet here she was.

“Right,” she said, voice wavering. “I… Right. You’re right. Good job, Kitty.”

She regretted the nickname as soon as it left her mouth.

“‘tis nothing, Ladybug,” he shrugged. “Guess you cast your lucky charm and I distract him as usual.”

“Not yet, I need to first figure ou—” She let out a sigh as he ended the call, and turned to see him heading back straight for the akuma.

Well. The message was clear.

Throwing her yoyo angrily in the air, she called on her lucky charm. And was rewarded for her effort with an umbrella.

She wanted to scream.

She glanced up and closed her eyes, temporarily blinded by the brightness of the sun. “And it’s not even raining,” she grumbled.

She stomped away from her hiding place, only to be thrown on the ground a second after.

“Wha—”

Adrien was hovering over her and spared a glance behind towards Snowtty before standing and helping her up.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

But he ran back towards the akuma without so much as a glance in her direction. The momentary relief she felt when he saved her evaporated right away. She ran after him.

She hated how he could be upset with her in the middle of an akuma fight but still be able to focus on the task at hand. Because he was paying great care to the akuma and his surroundings and was trying to actively find a solution to put an end to the fight—something she had a harder time doing when her personal feelings were getting overwhelming. She couldn’t reproach him for that. It was just incredibly infuriating.

“Adri—Chat Noir, will you please talk to me and stop ignoring me?” Marinette exploded, frustrated. “It’s been two days and now is not the time!”

“Bold words from someone who ran away and avoided me for two days after discovering my identity,” Adrien snapped back, avoiding another blast of green.

Her heart stuttered painfully. He was right, but it made it no less hurtful to hear. She and Chat Noir had argued in the past, and while it had never been pleasant, it was something they knew how to navigate through — how to come out stronger from. She and Adrien, however? Never. She hadn’t even fathom the possibility of it ever coming up one day. Any comebacks she could have had died on her tongue, and Ladybug found herself speechless.

They both ran for cover once again behind the safety of a rooftop chimney, leaving Snowtty growling at having lost their track.

She swallowed painfully. “Listen. I know you’re hurt, I understand and you have every right to be. But we need to work together right now.”

He kicked some of the remaining snow from the roof, fidgeting with his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t think my father would approve of that.”

She frowned. “Of what?”

“Us working togeth—” he sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Sorry. Forget I said anything, that was rude. Let’s...let’s just get back to the fight. I’ll behave.”

She grabbed his hand before he could vault away. “Wait.”

“Ladybug, I don’t think we have the time to talk or—”

“And I think it’s important that we talk now,” she said, giving him a pleading look. “Please.”

He kept eye contact with her for a few seconds before glancing hesitantly towards the city, nibbling at his lower lip. “Okay,” he finally murmured.

She involuntarily squeezed his hand in relief. He didn’t squeeze back, but he didn’t take it away either.

She hadn’t taken the time to focus on her feelings for him in the midst of her freakout about his identity; the warmth of his hand and the tips of his claws barely grazing hers and enhancing its delicacy made her realise that if anything, they had only gotten stronger.

It was painfully heartwarming.

“Are you...are you still… upset, about us, um… about me… you know…” she gestured between them.

“Breaking up with me?” He shook his head. “No. I’m hurt, yes. But that’s your right. That’s not what I’m angry about.”

“Then what…” she trailed off.

He sighed. “I thought I had made it clear, but I guess not.” He paused and kicked some more snow. “I didn’t like you telling everyone that my father forced us to break up,” he mumbled, and she had to listen carefully to pick up every word.

She blinked. “That’s… it?” She threw her hands in front of her at the glare he sent her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong… I agree it wasn’t my best excuse, but we had to find one that sounded plausible and…”

“That’s the thing, Marinette,” he said. “You decided to use my father as your excuse without asking me first.” He wrapped his arms around himself and looked to the ground. “I know my father isn’t… isn’t the best and that he can be… a little strict, but… He wouldn’t do that.”

There was a beat of silence.

“He wouldn’t do that,” he repeated more quietly.

She didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or her; but she didn’t know Gabriel Agreste much and thus couldn’t confirm nor refute his words.

He shook his head. “But the thing is… How would you have felt if I had told everyone that...that your parents had forced us to break up?” He lifted his gaze towards her, green eyes piercing through her.

“Oh,” she said, understanding dawning on her. “Oh. I see.”

“Yeah.”

“I hadn;t...I hadn’t thought about that,” Marinette admitted.

“Well.”He sniffed, angrily wiping at his eyes. “You should have.”

She hadn’t noticed that he was on the verge of crying, but she instantly felt shame coursing through her.

He kicked the snow harder. “And the worst part  is… the worst part is that… it workedI he almost spat. “They...they believed your excuse. They didn’t even doubt it, they just….” He gestured with his hands .“...Bought it as if it was obvious and that...that hurt.”

She stayed quiet for a few seconds, taking it in. She didn’t want to start the conversation now as to why it had been that easy for their friends to believe his father would do such a thing—it was something that they would have to discuss another day. A day on which he’d be more ready.

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. “I panicked because I...I realised I hadn’t thought of a reason for our breakup. My mind was busy with something else.” She chuckled dryly with a hand gesture in the air. “But you’re right, I crossed a line and that’s not an excuse. I probably would have killed you if you had told them my parents were the reason for our breakup.”

A timid smile appeared on his lips. “Good thing it was just me, then.”

She giggled tearily. “Yeah, good thing. But still. I hope you can forgive me. I promise I’ll be more careful.”

He sighed. “You know I can’t stay mad at you for very long, Marinette. Thank you. And I apologise too. I… I probably overreacted. And I should have known better than to snap during a fight.”

She smiled. “It’s okay. But maybe now, don’t wait until there’s an akuma to talk to me. Now that we know each other’s identities, you don’t need to.”

“I think I needed time to… digest that. But you’re right, will do.”

They looked at each other, smiling shyly as an awkward silence settled between them.

“So, Ladybug,” Adrien spoke with a wobbly smile, glancing towards the lucky charm in her hands, “shall we go back to the fight so you can play Mary Poppins?”

It still wasn’t a ‘my Lady’ or a ‘Buguinette’, and there was no wink to accompany his teasing, but he was back to joking. She would take it.

“Of course.” She smiled. “But let me recharge first.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

15th of February, 25 days after the reveal

“Psssst, come here, kitty kitty! I just want to be your frien—”

Marinette groaned as the ginger cat ran away, joining a tabby cat further up the alleway.

A chuckle from behind her startled her. “Looks like you’re having cat troubles.”

She turned around to meet her partner’s cat-like eyes, and yes, she was having cat troubles, indeed.

“They don’t like me,” she just said.

Adrien seemed to search her eyes for a second or two, his expression unreadable. “You know that’s not true.”

She didn’t know if the conversation was about the cats in the street anymore, and she wasn’t sure whose fault it was. But soon after, Adrien shook his head, blond hair softly sweeping against his cheeks, and let a smile pull at his lips.

He crouched down, grabbed his belt tail and slowly moved it around.

“You need to let them come to you.”

Marinette watched the tail slither, half hypnotised by the movement, until she heard the soft tapping of his claws on the ground. His fingers drummed in a steady rhythm, and she couldn’t help but marvel at how delicate the motion was.

It seemed that some cats around agreed because, soon enough, one advanced towards him, while another had laid down and began wiggling his butt and tail, ready to pounce.

She looked back at Adrien and he was smiling widely at them, anticipating their every move and excited to see their reactions. He looked so happy, so carefree and her heart did a somersault at the sight — she knew that she shouldn’t think like this, but she wished she had been the one he was looking at. She wished she could be one of these kittens, ready to tackle him to the ground, so they could fall in a heap of laughter together. So they could suddenly stop, and gaze into each other’s eyes, getting lost in each other, and maybe, just maybe, lean a little bit closer and ki—

“Wow.” Adrien’s loud laughter shook her out of her reverie. “No need to bite me, little one!”

While a small grey cat had attacked his tail and was nibbling at it, rolling on the floor, another one was more focused on his hand.

The white one with blue eyes.

“Careful,” she told him, “that one’s nasty.”

Adrien continued to play with the cat, moving a finger around and hovering it above his nose that the kitten tried to take a mouthful of.

“What? Why do you say that?”

“Well, he bit you. And earlier, he scratched me. Good thing my suit could protect me or my arms would have been covered in blood,” she informed.

Adrien smiled. “That doesn’t make him nasty.”

She spluttered. “Wha—? How—of course it does! He’s a mean cat, trust me on this! All white cats with blue eyes are!”

He chuckled, giving him a fond look the kitten didn’t deserve. “Good thing I’m a black cat, then.”

She shuddered.

“And he’s not mean,” he went on, “he’s broken.”

Marinette frowned. “What do you mean, ‘broken’?”

Somehow, Adrien had managed to pet the cat on the head, making him let out a contented meow. “Cats who have been abandoned or rejected by their mother too young tend to be more aggressive,” he explained, a pained smile she wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. “They scratch and bite a lot because in a way, they’re kind of lost.”

He took him in his arms and kissed his nose, to which the cat answered with a small ‘meow’. Staying close to his face, he scratched under his chin that the cat was exposing happily to him as a sign of complete trust. Adrien’s smile melted when a purr rumbled out of the kitten, and Marinette hung on it with both fascination and envy.

He let out a breathy chuckle. “See? He just needs someone to show him they care.”

“Show him they care,” she repeated dumbly. She could do that. She coul— “What if...what if it still doesn’t change anything?”

Adrien’s gaze left the kitten to turn to her. “What do you mean?”

“What if...What if even if someone cares about him, and cares about him so much they would sacrifice their own happiness for him if it came to it, and shows him everyday and tells him everyday but he still…” She stopped, fumbling with her words for a second. “...He still keeps biting and scratching and feeling lost and alone a-and no one can save him?” She lifted her eyes to his, only to find her vision blurry.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you talking about?” Adrien breathed.

“M-maybe, this cat is doomed from the start. Maybe he’ll be like that forever, no matter what and maybe they’ll all be like that and—”

“My Lady,” a hand landed on her shoulder, stopping her from spiralling further—and here it was, the ‘my Lady ‘she’d been craving for so much, at the most unexpected time. “That’s stupid. I’m not sure if it’s about cats anymore,” he chuckled, “but I’ll pretend it is.”

She blinked back tears. He kept on, “Yes, some of these hurt cats never change. But not all of them! You can never really know what will happen, how they’ll evolve, because they’re all different, and they’ll all live different lives.”

He smiled at her, his delicate hand never leaving her shoulder, while the other continued petting the purring white kitten. “We can’t guess what will happen to them. All we can do is try, and take the risk. And maybe the owners of this lovely kitty will be lucky and have a loving ball of fur”— he bopped the cat’s nose who in turn let out a small ‘meow’— “or they’ll be less lucky and have a little monster that—ouch,” he said, as the cat chased his bopping finger to bite it, “bite them from time to time but still would be worth caring for.” He sighed a chuckle.

Marinette swallowed, taking it in. “So you mean that… the future of this cat isn’t… set in stone?” she asked carefully.

“Of course not! No one can know what he’ll grow into now, it will depend on a lot of factors.” He took his hand off her shoulder to lift the cat off his lap and nuzzle his nose with his. “Isn’t that right, little one? You’ll be a good kitty, won’t you?”

She let a smile pull at her lips at the sight. Adrien turned to face her with a big goofy grin on his face.

“If our future was written in our DNA, we’d have known all about our futures a long time ago,” he chuckled.

She let his words sink in, closing her eyes. What if...what if.

What if their love wouldn’t destroy the world, this time.

But what if it did again.

...But what if it didn’t?

She heaved a sigh, releasing some of the tension that had been weighing down on her. When she opened her eyes, it was to see that Adrien was back to playing with the kitten.

“And what are we gonna call you, hm? Ooooh, I know! See, I’m Chat Noir, so that would make you Chat Bla—”

“—FLOCON!” Marinette interrupted him.

He blinked at her. “Chat Flocon?”

“No, just...just Flocon. He’s white as snow, and fluffy like a snowflake, so it makes sense. And,” she added after a beat, “it’s cute.”

And it reminded her of that date they shared, just before revealing their identities, strolling through a snowy Paris. It was a memory she cherished, even if it didn’t end quite well.

Adrien grinned. “Okay. Flocon it is.” He scratched the cat’s chin, who purred in turn and tried to bite his finger again. “No,” he told him, “I said no biting, you thickhead.”

She could watch him bicker with a kitten for hours, she thought.

“Hey, Buguinette,” he called out to her, pulling her out of her momentary reverie, “you wanna hold Flocon?”

She blinked. “Errr… I don’t know if that's a good idea or…”

He laughed. “He’s not that aggressive. It’s up to you; but if you want to try befriending him again…” He held a half-wiggling and meowing Flocon in the air towards her.

Marinette bit her lip, and took a deep breath. Maybe it was a bad idea to cave, but... “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll give him a try.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

26th of April, 95 days after the reveal

“Adrien, aren’t you gonna snap her in half?” Alya asked with incredulous eyes.

It made both him and Marinette giggle. “It’s like she doesn’t know that you’re usually the one snapping me in half between the two of us,” Adrien whispered in her ear, which made her laugh harder. “She said she wanted to!” he told Alya louder.

“Yes, Alya,” Marinette added, “I’m a strong girl and I can carry him! Right, Adrien?”

“Right!” he replied enthusiastically, clinging harder on her back.

He wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but he was too busy feeling lighthearted and free on this spring afternoon. It was the first warm day of the year, with only a slightly chilly breeze coming to ruffle his hair at times that only contributed in increasing his  giddiness. For the fifth time this day, he thanked the star that made his father allow him to go out to the temporary funfair with his friends—though he thought they were studiously working on a school project.

“It’s not because you can carry him that you should,” Nino said, shaking his head fondly.

“You’re just jealous because Alya isn’t carrying you.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Let’s ride to the moon and back!”

“To the moon and back!” Adrien repeated, one hand raised in the air.

Marinette let out a warrior cry before attempting to run, albeit slowly because of his weight, and he could tell they wouldn’t go far as he already felt himself slide down and her grip on his legs slacken.

He should have known they’d fall face first before she got too exhausted. If he had, maybe he’d have had the time to react and avoid it.

As it was, he just found himself on top of Marinette on the ground. He lifted himself up and sat down, Marinette soon doing the same.

Distantly, he heard Alya and Nino running towards them shouting “are you okay”s and “are you hurt”s at profusion, but he didn’t pay them any mind as Marinette looked up at him with eyes glinting with mirth and they both fell in a heap of laughters.

Some passersby looked at them funnily while others whispered some “that must hurt”s or “everything alright?”s to them.

“It’s okay,” Adrien told them. “We’ve had it worse!”

“Yes,” Marinette chimed in. “One time we were thrown by an akuma—”

“—A big tuna," he quickly corrected.

“—a big tuna, he’s right,” she repeated, “and we both fell right into a moving bus, and we survived!”

“And you find that funny,” Nino deadpanned, putting his hands on his hips as Adrien helped Marinette up.

Adrien just grinned at him. “Yup! We’re the survivors.”

“And we’re gonna make it!” Marinette sang.

“You’re insufferable,” Alya chuckled. “The both of you. I don’t know how you two can be more unhinged than me with Marinette, but—”

“—That’s because we’re exes besties,” Adrien chirped. Despite the months that had passed, it always hurt a little to call each other “exes”. But he had long since learned that laughing at his suffering was better than crying over it. He just wondered when and if he’ll ever be over her one day. He probably never really would.

“Hey,” Nino said indignantly. “But you’re my best friend!”

“Maybe, but are you also exes, hm?” Marinette asked him. “Because we are, and it makes us the unstoppable exes besties! And now, our next stop will be…” She jumped on Adrien’s back without warning and he caught her with a ‘oof’. “...to that splashing boat attraction over there!”

“Dudes, you already fell once, what are you doing?”

“We’re getting back up, Nino, and we try again,” she announced proudly, raising her fist up. “Let’s go to the boat, Adrien, and may our ship sail! Go, go, go!”

Adrien faintly heard a ‘they’re beyond help’ from Alya as he ran towards the attraction, both his and Marinette’s laughters echoing in the wind.

───※ ·❆· ※───

28th of May, 127 days after the reveal

Adrien landed with a grunt on the pavement. The suit was a good protector, but it didn’t stop his back from hurting from the impact with the ground. This akuma — Firebender as he called himself — truly was more violent than usual.

“Wow,” he managed to breath between two gasps, “you’re on fire today!”

He tried to push himself up with an arm, and raised his head towards Firebender with a half-closed eye. The fireball he saw coming towards him arrived so fast that he didn’t even have the time to do so much as widening his eyes. An anguish cry was the last thing he heard before it faded and he saw nothing at all.

───※ ·❆· ※───

28th of May, 127 days after the reveal

Marinette realised she was screaming when she felt her lungs were empty.

Usually, when an akuma took lives, the victims just disappeared into thin air, as if they had never been. They weren’t lying there, unmoving on the pavement like Adrien was. Somehow, seeing was worse than not.

She felt dizzy, as if everything around her was moving in slow motion. She staggered, trying to turn her head away from the sight of her unresponsive partner who was becoming blurrier and blurrier the longer she looked at him. She needed to breathe, she needed to—

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,” she screeched instead, the sound reverberating into the street, bouncing from building to building.

She took a ragged breath, and another, closing her eyes as she took in the dead silence that greeted her scream.

She swallowed her first sob and squeezed her eyes tight shut, taking yet another heavy breath. She turned towards the akuma before opening her eyes, otherwise she knew she wouldn’t be able to tear her gaze away from Adrien’s dead form. She gritted her teeth as soon as the thought of him being gone entered her mind again.

“You’re a monster,” she spat, low and cold, the last word echoing through the silence and carrying her voice to Firebender’s ears — to Hawkmoth’s.

All these days worrying over the possibility of a devastating future she had seen, all this time doing everything she could to avoid it no matter how little she knew of it, and she hadn’t considered the possibilities she hadn’t been a witness of. All these days flirting with the line between caving and resisting only for her regretful indecision to hit her in the most cruel way.

“Give up, Ladybug,” Hawkmoth spoke through Firebender, “you no longer have your pet. All you have to do is surrender your miracu—”

“And what?” she spat. “Let my partner die? Listen to me, Hawkmoth. I have a chance to save him, and for that I need to defeat you. You think I’m stupid? I’m not giving up on Paris. I’m not giving up on him!”

And I’m not giving up on us, she told herself.

“Lucky charm!” she roared, rage and determination coursing through her veins.

She knew nothing about how Chat Blanc had really happened, she realised, catching the spotted chain falling from above. Nothing about her current future, as she scanned her surroundings for a solution. Nothing but the crushing weight of the present and her fear of the unknown, as she opened her yoyo to retrieve the dragon miraculous and put it around her neck.

“Tikki, Longg, unify!”

As she surrounded herself with water and ran towards Firebender with only one goal in mind, she promised herself to never let the gifts the present gives her slide in favour of hypothetical futuristic tragedies. She was finally done running away and sacrificing her life to her fears.

───※ ·❆· ※───

28th of May, 127 days after the reveal

Light suddenly flooded Adrien’s vision as he took a sharp and deep intake of breath. His lungs were burning with the sudden air filling them up, and he squinted his eyes, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He groggily lifted himself up on his elbows when—

“Chaton!”

—a red blur threw herself at him. He caught her, her hair in his nose and her warm breath and hot tears in his neck.

He let her sob and squeeze him as understanding washed over him. He gently threaded his clawed fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp, noticing absent-mindedly that she was also wearing the dragon miraculous.

She slowly detangled herself from him but stayed close, looking into his eyes through her wet ones and caressing his cheek with her thumb.

“Kitty,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, “my Kitty.”

He didn’t have the time to react before her lips were on his and she took her time to savour him before ever so slowly pulling away. He let her do.

She didn’t stop there. Gently cradling his face in her trembling hands, she kissed his cheek. And his other cheek. And his forehead. His nose. His jaw. Puncturing each of her kisses with whispers of “mon Chaton”, or “Kitty”, or “my love”, to which his heart made a somersault at, before diving for his neck.

Each time he kept on letting her do, keeping her close to him as she sobbed through her kisses and yet another nickname for him.

He could feel her breathing him in; so, with his nose in her hair, he inhaled her scent too. Her hot breath left his neck once again, and she came back for his lips.

This time, he kissed her back, and as soon as his lips moved against hers, she choked on a sobbed whine and pushed her mouth closer to his, if that was even possible

He hadn’t forgotten the taste of her lips on his, even after all these months; but he also knew their kisses had never burnt so intensely, driven by despair, the need to memorise the present and the aroma of being alive.

───※ ·❆· ※───

1st of June, 131 days after the reveal

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

Marinette smiled sadly. “Oh, I don’t know. Hurting you. Putting us through this mess. Not telling you about Chat Blanc. Take your pick.”

She let her arms rest on the railing of the bridge, looking across the Seine. The clouds were getting darker and darker, though a sunray pierced through one of them, lighting up a few buildings on the shore in a powerful atmosphere. Her eyes followed a barge floating further and further away, waiting for the moment it would cross the ray of light.

“You’ve been hurting too,” Adrien said after a few seconds. “You’ve been shouldering it all on your own. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

His hand slid into hers and she welcomed it, intertwining her fingers timidly with his. She glanced at him with a tentative smile and he smiled back, looking at her with soft eyes. She looked back towards the Seine just in time to see the barge slicing through the sunbeam.

“Still. Maybe, if I had told you… if I hadn’t let my fears get the best of me…” She trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

“And maybe,” Adrien spoke when it was clear she wouldn’t add something more, squeezing her hand once, “if you had told me earlier, I would have given up Chat Noir.”

She gasped and turned to him, but he was looking at the Seine with saddened eyes.

“What do you mean?” she breathed.

“I’m not sure I’d have been able to handle hearing that I could destroy the world as an akuma,” he whispered, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb as if to reassure her. “It’s… really hard already, but I feel like it would’ve been worse before.”

He turned his head towards her again and she held his gaze, gripping his hand harder as if to dare him to leave.

“You said it yourself,” he went on, “just like we have no idea about what the future can really hold, we can’t know how things would have played out if we had done things differently. What really matters right now is what you want us to be from now on.”

She searched his expectant eyes for a few seconds before looking back at the Seine. A tourist boat coming towards them had replaced the barge in the sunspot before the window of clouds closed on the light, leaving only a dark atmosphere in its place. The clouds grew darker and a warm gust had picked up, making their hair fly in every direction and their clothes ruffling in a frenzy. Marinette felt her emotions growing with the wind, begging to be said and to explode.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and feeling the wind coursing through her as she gathered her thoughts, and opened them again.

“I love you, Adrien,” she spoke, her declaration followed by a distant rumble in the sky. “I love you so, so much. Discovering that you were Chat Noir, once I took it all in… it was the best thing in the world, but also the worst.”

She faced away from the Seine to face him instead and take both his hands in hers, gripping them as tight as she could to ground herself as she felt a flow of tears coming in.

“It made me fall in love with you so much more it hurt, but I knew I couldn’t be with you or I knew I shouldn’t because…” She paused, taking ragged breaths. “...Because it wouldn’t be responsible. Because we’re superheroes and because I had this warning with Chat Blanc, and as the guardian it’s my role to keep us grounded and to do the right thing.”

A lighting bolt pierced through the sky, accompanied by a loud thunderstrike a few seconds later. Adrien was looking at her with a pain in his eyes that she knew meant he was hurting for her and not him.

“But I don’t want to do the right thing this time,” she murmured, as she felt a first drop of water slide down her cheek. “I’m tired of doing what’s supposedly right. Not when...not when we’re both hurting so much that it feels like it’s more dangerous to stay this way instead of just… giving in.”

At this point, she didn’t know who out of her and Adrien were gripping the other’s hands the tightest. She felt more and more raindrops falling on her face and clothes. She didn’t know if the water in his eyes were because he was tearing up or not.

“So maybe our love destroyed the world, once,” she continued, “but I think there’s enough far more damaging hate in this world; and ever since these akuma attacks started, what saved it is our love — for Paris, for our family and friends… and for each other.”

Adrien’s eyes now held a glint of adoration. His now damped hair was sticking to his face while some strands curled with the water. She supposed hers wasn’t faring much better.

“So to answer your question,” she swallowed a sob, “I want us to be together… if you’ll have me.”

Lightning ripped through the sky accompanied by deafening thunder as Adrien pulled her into a crushing hug. She put her arms around his neck to pull him even closer to her and let the flow of her tears finally mix with the rain on her cheeks.

“Marinette,” he whispered, voice wavering and lips barely touching her ear, “I love you, of course I’ll have you. I’ll always have you.”

The rain fell even harder as they hugged closer and cried, soaking them, yet they couldn’t care less. Their clothes were sticking to their bodies, growing more and more uncomfortable, which was worsened by them being in each other’s arms, but Marinette hadn’t felt so good in a long time.

She suddenly pulled away from the hug and cradled his head between her hands. He took her face in his and they stayed closed, forehead against forehead, breathing each other in. Another rumbled resounded and Marinette’s last resolve snapped with it—she brought her lips to his and kissed him.

He responded in kind, and she drank him in and pressed her mouth closer as she felt him doing the same. She should care about the rain falling and the thunder rumbling, but the battering of the elements were just making her feel freer, finally allowing her to get away from all her self restraints.

She sighed against Adrien’s lips as they kept coming back for more. They kissed their reunion, the relief of finding each other again, at last—unlike when he had come back from the dead earlier, these kisses tasted of the promise of more to come, because they knew they would stay together this time.

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, 1h45 after the reveal

“Okay. What’s going on between you two? You’ve been acting awkward since we’ve got here.”

What was going on. What was going on.

“We’re fine,” the lie rolled out of her tongue easily. “Really.”

Alya raised a brow. “Adrien?”

She saw him smiling from the corner of her eyes. He was a much better actor than her—always had been.

“It’s nothing. It’s… we just… we’re working on it.”

...And much more honest than she was, be it with his feelings or with his heart. Always had been.

“Well,” Nino said, “I hope it’s not too big of a deal and that you’ll get over it soon. You guys are the cutest out there.”

Marinette smiled painfully. She glanced at Adrien who was looking at her with soft eyes that she didn’t deserve considering her reaction, and she felt his warm hand timidly covering hers.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I have hopes we will. We always do.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

21st of January, one year after the reveal

“You’re heavy,” Adrien gasped.

“That’s a rude thing to say to a lady,” Marinette commented from atop him, head resting on the arms she had folded on his chest. “And even more so to your girlfriend.”

He groaned and attempted to lift himself up. Fail. She was grinning at him and he pouted in fake-annoyance. “Not when said girlfriend is purposefully putting all her weight on you! I can’t breath!”

Marinette giggled and pressed herself further on him to which he let out a choked whimper, before pushing away from him after a few seconds, ending his suffocation.

“I could report you for attempting murder, you know,” he threatened with a finger. “‘Ladybug slips into teenage model Adrien Agreste’s room and proceeds to suffocate him’, now that would make the newspapers talk for months.”

She laughed and came back to hover over him. “‘And Adrien asked her to do it again’,” she smirked, and she bent down to peck his lips.

He couldn’t even argue with that.

He discreetly brought his hand close to where his head was lying to grab a pillow. When she pushed herself up and sat next to him, he quickly hit her head with it.

She gasped, betrayed and that sent him into a fit of laughter. She glared at him playfully, grabbed his other pillow, and swatted him way harder than he had.

“You’re dead, Kitty! You hear me?” she said, trying and failing not to laugh. “You’ve just signed your death contract!”

“No, my Lady, please I’m just a defenseless citizen!”

“I’ll knock you out with my yo-yo!” she threatened.

They fought again for a few minutes before stopping, Adrien breathless but Marinette only slightly out of breath due to being transformed.

“I hope your father won’t come in,” Marinette said.

“Don’t worry, if he or Nathalie come, you’ll just say you’re investigating here because, uh...because you suspect me of being Hawkmoth!”

She laughed. “Kitty, that’s such a stupid idea.”

“Why not?” Adrien wiggled his eyebrows. “After all, I do disappear during every akuma attack.”

Marinette smiled and crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as he steadied her with his hands on her hips. They lost themselves into each other’s eyes, faces close but not close enough to exactly touch.

“Then,” she murmured against his lips, and he felt his cheeks heating up. “I’ve come to seduce my enemy. Is it working?”

“I’d rather be your partner if that’s okay,” he whispered.

“Yes, but is it working Adrien?”

He chuckled—she didn’t even need to try, he’d always been too far gone when it came to her. “A bit too much.”

He kissed the proud and satisfied giggle from her lips.

[rein-ette]

for @needcake's request, 5 times Engport died and one time they saved each other.

III.

Portugal finds him in the attic. The ceiling of the inn is heavily slanted, and through the drawn curtain hardly any light comes through. The room is musty and damp and smelled of — of rot, of festering wounds, of things falling apart.

England himself is still.

No one had bandaged his wounds, so lying on the bed infested with all manner of pests his body was a rich tapestry of reds and browns and mottled grey. Sickness cradled his spectral figure in its wings, perched on the headboard as it tore into its meal with abandon. For a moment, Portugal thought England was already dead.

Then he coughed, eyelashes fluttering weakly. Gabriel, he mouthed, voice long consumed by the illness — by the war, damn those things — that ravaged his body. Portugal saw the question in his eyes, anyways. Why are you here?

"To take you home," he murmured, brushing his knuckles over one bare cheekbone, rising from his pale skin like the spine of a great beast. "Did you think I could not find you? That I would not come for you?"

England only gazes at him. In the desolate landscape of his face, only his eyes remain a fevered green, too bright. Two jewels, set in clay.

He does not — cannot — protest when Portugal wraps his body in cloth, cradling his frail figure against his chest. Does not protest when Portugal carries him down the stairs, does not protest when he's forced onto the horse and Portugal rests his forehead against his and murmurs. It's not far. Hold on to me.

He does not protest, but oh — oh, how Portugal wishes he had.

England is dead now. Lying on a soft bed, cradled by linen and silk and velvet canopies, he's hidden away like some stolen treasure — an antique sword, a broken childhood doll — stashed in an opulent corner between Lisbon and the sea. This far away from his isles, the sun finally warms his skin, but his eyes are fixed and dark.

Portugal guards his corpse and regrets.

IV.

Tomás was — to say the least — confused.

He began getting a little disoriented when the first Dutch cannon struck their ship, and when the Dutch themselves boarded he was kind of lost — but to be confused in the chaos of battle was normal. Fights with the Dutch were normal. Even losing was pretty normal; their captain may fight like the undead, but the crew was only human, and they had been caught alone without escort.

At least, their captain had fought like the undead, until a tall Dutch sailor put a sword through his belly and a shot in his shoulder. Then he’d really just been dead.

That was when Tomás’ confusion really started. Because after killing their captain, the Dutch soldier had simply waved a hand and left, soldiers straggling behind as they made their way back to their own ship. The cannons fell silent moments later, and Tomás own battered comrades hadn’t tried to pursue. Watching their enemy’s flags disappear into the distance, Tomás had helped drag their barely conscious captain below deck as he pondered over this strange occurrence: in the middle of a war, a Dutch warship had just caught them, trounced them, and simply let them go.

But that had not been all. For just as he was leaving the sick bay, an officer had grabbed him in the hall and rasped, “Tell the navigator to set course for Dover.” Wide-eyed, Tomás had only managed to squeak out an affirmative before he’d been released, leaving him standing there with a bloody cloth with one hand and absolutely no clue why they were about to head into enemy territory after they had, uh, just been utterly destroyed by their enemy.

Still, Tomás had done his job and relayed the message, expecting that to be the end of the madness. He was only a rigger, he reasoned — if he just followed orders surely everything would straighten themselves out with time.

He was wrong. Now, a week later, Tomás still understood nothing. He had orders to find one Sir Kirkland, Lord of Canterbury, but he had no idea if he’s found the right one. When he’d asked the first mate what this Lord Kirkland looked like, the first mate had only shrugged and said, “Never met ‘im. Probably a geezer, since he’s a lord.”

Yet this young man standing in the doorway in front of Tomas, claiming to be Lord Kirkland, could not have been older than twenty.

“Are you or are you not one of Gabriel’s men?” The man demanded impatiently. His Portuguese was heavily accented, but clear.

“Yes. Yes sir.”

“And? What does the bastard want with me?”

“He’s dead, sir. My first mate asked me to come get you. Sir.”

The young man — Lord Kirkland — raised his eyebrows. His gaze seemed to skewer Tomás right through his skull. “Dead.” He repeated. Tomás nodded hesitantly. Lord Kirkland muttered something in his own language under his breath, then rolled his eyes and said, “Fine.” Fine? “Joseph!” He barked to someone in the interior of the manse. “Get this man a horse and ready the carriage. And call the doctor, for god’s sake, Gabriel’s gone and gotten himself killed again.” He whirled around and pinned Tomás with another look. “What’s your name?”

“Tomás Santiago, sir.”

“Thanks for your hard work, Santiago. After we put your captain back together, I’ll tell him to give you a bonus.”

Tomas stared. Put him back together? Bonus? Wasn’t the captain dead?

But this Lord Kirkland guy was still look at him expectantly, so he stuttered out a “Yes, sir” again and thanked him.

A few minutes later, Tomás left on a fine horse more confused than ever.

Notes

Scene 3 is set during the English Civil War (1642–1651). Portugal brings him to the Ribeira Palace, which used to be where the Praça do Comércio is now situated.

Scene 4 is during the Dutch-Portuguese wars. But it’s pretty much crack, so there’s really no need to say more.