#also nathaniel makes me so angry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nathaniel-underwood-is-an-intj · 6 months ago

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Looong rant about chapter 16 Ptolemy's Gate and how being passive can add to the cycle of ab*se.

oof so I just read when Nat goes to see Ms Lutyens and I can't help but be absolutely furious at her??

I know that's maybe a little bit unfair given she's frightened of him as a magician and is obviously angry when she finds out the department he's responsible for, but honestly it kinda brings up the problem with inadvertent bystanders to child ab*se in my mind.

And I'm definitely not blaming her solely for who Nat becomes but it makes me think of all those people in huge child ab*se cases who give interviews to press about all the things they noticed that were wrong but they just...never do anything?

She stood up for him against Lovelace, and when Nat thanked her- "I wanted to say that I know you were trying to save me, and-"

''Yes, and I'm sorry I didn't" Like girl be for real did you really think that alone would undo the years of indoctrination and abuse he's already suffered and prevent years worth of the same in the years to come? And she won't take responsibility - "My job is with children, not the adults they become" and again while it seems harsh to blame her for who Nat becomes, it's so much easier to pass the blame to people who are more directly responsible rather than acknowledging you also play a part.

I think it hurts so much more because it's her specifically- Nat goes to her in sheer desperation, it almost seems like a goodbye- he wants to thank her, tries to set her up in a job that will pay well and struggles to communicate he's trying to help. At this point he thinks Bartimaeus has been summoned by another magician and his birth name will be revealed. He's sure he's about to die and if not he'll be stood on trial and lose everything.

He goes to her because she represents the peaceful moments from his childhood when he got away from his master. He's scared and feeling lost and really it's call for help; but he doesn't ask for anything he just wants to make her feel proud of him- he's looking for that validation that he's been chasing since childhood.

And that shows he still does have that little bit of childhood innocence in him; he thinks she will be proud, thinks she'll see him as the same little boy in the garden gazing up at his teacher in adoration. He can't quite grasp why she's separated the man stood before her from that little boy. Because in that moment the child inside Nathaniel is seeking comfort AND THAT'S WHY it makes me so angry. She's completely given up on him when he's at his lowest ebb, because she doesn't want to be associated with the magician he's become. As if it isn't a massive step in the right direction that he saught her out in the first place- what other magican would bother? I wonder if that's why she reacted so strongly to seeing him again? Before that moment she could go about her life wondering if /pretending her attempt to protect him was enough, and now she realises it wasn't, of course it wasn't, and the image she had of Nathaniel's childhood innocence is completely ruined in her mind.

Or was her contempt for him even grater than Nat realised? She was naturally disgusted by the rhetoric he'd started to repeat from a young age, and gently tried to correct him although she was clearly angry- was she just resigned to the fact that there is little else she could do to change his future? I always thought- couldn't she have looked for him? The Underwood house fire was in the papers and they mentioned the apprentice was being searched for. Did she ever worry about him? Surely something must have been in the papers since- an announcement of new ministers, ANYTHING! Look at how much research Kitty did to find out about Bartimaeus and Ptolemy. I just don't think Rosanna Lutyens cared enough, realistically Nathaniel wasn't hard to find- but he was no longer her responsibility so she could turn a blind eye.

And sadly it's not just her- I know everyone loves Martha Underwood including Nat; but I think her submissiveness to her husband has a negative effect on Nathaniel as well. In AOS when Nat is locked in his room for ages after setting the mites loose, and is forbidden to have any contact with anyone and she won't talk with him. I know she's been told by Mr. Underwood she can't, but it still boils my blood. She's an adult and going along with ignoring Nathaniel because her husband told her to...I can't even begin to imagine the psychological damage that would do to a 10 year old child. (It could be argued she's frightened of the consequences if her husband finds out she's disobeyed him which is fair, he could always be watching through magic- but this is Arthur Underwood we're talking about. He's lazy, oblivious and weak I doubt he'd expend all that energy each day to check up on her.)

And It's even more painful that Nathaniel is often described as fiercely loyal to her and I think to Ms Lutyens as well- he doesn't expect to be treated well by Arthur Underwood but he loved Mrs Underwood and Ms Lutyens so much he started to view them through a rose-coloured lense. He never feels betrayed by either of them, even though they absolutely let him down, because the pedestal he's put them on is too high AND THAT ABSOLUTELY DESTROYS ME.

Would things with Nathaniel have been any different if Mrs Underwood hadn't died? I don't really think so. Do you think she'd see Nathaniel's temper at 14 years old and be reminded of Arthur Underwood? He was awful, absolutely awful to Nat and to her; but he was under so much stress in an underfunded departement, where pressure was being put on him by superiors to accomplish far more than they knew him to be capable of, and he took it out on the easiest target. Nathaniel ends up in exactly the same place and he starts to take it out on the only person around him- Bartimaeus. Would he snap at Mrs Underwood all the time if she were still there? Because he's learnt that behaviour from his father figure, and subconsciously learnt from his mother figure that she'll put up with it. He learnt from the woman he loved so deeply, that if you don't resist, people will walk all over you. So you have to maintain control even if it ends up hurting people you care about because no one will step in to stop the suffering no matter how much you love them, no matter how much you want them too.

It's easy to blame Arthur Underwood and Simon Lovelace and the magicians that actively hurt Nathaniel but I just feel like it's a bit disingenuous not to acknowledge the role of those doing passive harm. It's really mean to say it but even Bartimaeus plays a role- he knows Nat is clinging on to him because he can't 'bring himself to break this last connection' (to his childhood) but instead of bringing it up properly he 'taunts' Nathaniel- a boy who has been taunted for his weakness by his master for years. And even in AOS when Nathaniel tells Bartimaeus he was beaten for the mites incident Bart just kinda shrugs it off. Like I get it, why should Bartimaeus do anything, he's suffered way worse due to the system so he doesn't owe Nat anything right? But from Nat's point of view this is the first and only time he's mentioned to anyone what has happened to him and nothing changes. It's like another lesson learnt: telling someone about it doesn't help. Another nail in the coffin.

And I like all these characters, I feel bad for them. They're all victims of the system, I think the chapter with Ms Lutyens is just the straw that broke the camel's back for me. All of those little opportunities that are insignificant to the narrative over all; the commoners have it worse, Nathaniel is in a privileged position in society, exerting control over others. He's very morally grey, crossing over into objectively bad person territory but I love him with my whole heart and all of those insignificant moments would have been massive to him whether he was conscious of it or not.

And it goes all the way back to the beginning with Nat's parents giving him up to the magicians at 5 years old. I can't get the image of that little boy sat crying all alone in the government building. And he's not going somewhere safer, or somewhere he'll be happier and more loved. Giving your child over to a total stranger, oh he'll be totally fine won't he? He'll grow up to be a magician and far richer than you'll ever be, he'll be happy and comfortable and be grateful he got to grow up in luxury. There's no way a stranger you've never met, who the majority of society is terrified of would ever hurt a vulnerable little kid right? And if they do? Well you aren't responsible anymore, how could you know? What could you possibly do against the magician taking care of him?

Every little thing is another grain of sand tipping the scale. Did anyone else have to analyse An Inspector Calls in school? It feels like that to me- those BIG moments and all the little moments in between that add onto the pile.

And it goes on to cause problems in wider society too- ab*se is so normalised to the magicians, they casually ask Underwood if he hits Nathaniel like it's nothing. Because to them it is nothing, they've all grown up in the same circumstances and are repeating what they've learnt as children. I can't help but feel a little sorry for them all, especially when they aren't looked at through the black and white lense of 'argh these people are the evil arseholes look at how they treat everyone around them, screw these guys.' When we see those little glimpses of humanity like Simon's anxiety with the amulet; looking to his master and father figure Schyler for reassurance, and what's sad is that Nat is "reminded...of his own master's cold impatience" It's clear Simon looks up to his master, wants to make him proud and loves him. But it seems like Schyler has just trained Simon up so he can get power through him later on. I love the little hints of similarities between Simon and Nathaniel; the anxious mannerisms like fiddling with his hair that Nathaniel starts to develop, the way their master's talk to them. Even though they're actively working against each other in AOS and Simon is placed firmly in the baddies category and Nat in the goodies category at this point in the series; these things always hinted to me they had similar childhoods, how was Simon treated? When he had the imp beat Nat into unconsciousness, was it because he'd had the same punishment used against him? Did he know the magicians in the room would do nothing to stop him because no one stopped it from happening to him? Did he ever have a teacher stand up for him only for it to change nothing in the end because all the negative influences were so much stronger? Is the reason he loves Schyler like a dad because he's almost developed Stockholm syndrome? It looks like love because he's never known anything else.

And Arthur Underwood- who doesn't think his upbringing, and being taken away from his family ever did him any harm- doesn't realise the harm done is that he doesn't even know another way of raising Nathaniel, because he was never shown another way. His childhood may also have been filled with people who hurt him and the people that didn't do enough to intervene.

There are so many psychology studies that show children copy everything they see the adults in their life doing. Nathaniel copies the magicians behaviour towards spirits and on a subconscious level I think he copies all the submissive people in his life. How many times does he end up upset and frustrated with the fact he seems to be going nowhere and how many times does he just hope things will be different rather than taking postive action.

I dislike the actions the magicians end up taking but I also find them fascinating to analyse. I tend to prefer villains in media because they're usually slightly more complex individuals and I love to think about how they ended up that way. They can all be seen as victims of their circumstances in a way, despite all the power and privilege they have had terrible and traumatic childhoods, and if the commoners had no valuable worldy possessions at least they had a sense of togetherness; of love and understanding and selflessness. I wonder if the magicians hated them at least partly because of that. Because out in the sea of faces of the commoners talking about nothing important, doing nothing great and noble- could be the parents that abandoned them. And when your life is on the line daily because of working with spirits, and your colleagues want to stab you in the back, sometimes not being responsible for anything important looks good. But you can't leave your life as a magician, it would be too difficult; you have nowhere to go, no real friends, no one who really loves you. So it's better to stay and be a submissive bystander in your own life because it's so much easier.

Doing nothing is doing something- being passive can be just as harmful.

#Oh boy if I was in Nat's life I'd've packed him into a box and shipped him off to therapy long ago #Listen I'm not a magician apologist per se....#But I do find playing devil's advocate for well -written baddies fun #And I am Nathaniells defence lawyer #I will not hear a word said against him #Just stressing that I do in fact like Mrs Underwood and Ms Lutyens I just wish they were a little stronger in sticking up for Nat #and I do hate mr Underwood #Simon lovelace tho.... I quite like him he can have a little space in the therapy box #I have a softspot for him because of the mannerisms that compare him to Nat okay???#Is it obvious I studied psychology at school 😅#Or that I am a huge Nat kinnie😅😅#Please don't hate me for this take #If anyone takes anything from this please let it be children copy everything they see you do including when you do nothing #This is quite tangential #bartseq #bartimaeus sequence #bartimaeus trilogy #bartimaeus #nathaniel underwood #liveblogging

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tarabyte3 · 1 month ago

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Remember You Are Half Water

Pairing: Kino Loy x f!Reader

(7.2 k words)

AO3 link

Summary: Drowning is easy. It's surviving that's hard. Or: After the prison break, you and Kino hide out on Narkina 5.

Warnings: (18+) Explicit, angst, enemies to lovers (kind of), they argue and not in the flirty way, vaginal sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, grim realism, survival situation, descriptions of drowning, descriptions of resuscitation, cpr, thoughts of death, thoughts of dying, talk of dying, mentions of suicidal thoughts, mentions of imprisonment, themes of death, themes of drowning, description of pain, dreams, nightmares, illness, self-indulgent melancholia

A/N: I accidentally wrote this after getting a random idea in my head while working on I Want You to Show Me Weak (my brain will do anything but finish a fic 😌), so have a surprise Kino oneshot. Just please mind the tags, especially with the events currently happening in the real world. This isn't a dark fic, but the tone is quite grim. (Mostly. I am still a filthy hopeless romantic, after all.) Also, I'm well aware of what Narkina 5 is supposed to look like, however I simply Do Not care 😌

Fic title is from The Penelopiad by Margaret Atwood. Collage quote from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Ocean.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me) it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

- e.e. cummings, maggie and milly and molly and may

Your lungs burn.

There's a weight across your shoulders, pulling you down and under the waves. Your arms are spent and heavy with exhaustion. You have no idea how long you’ve been swimming—dragging something through the water, but your muscles are on fire. Your lungs are on fire. It would be so easy to just give up.

To just let go.

Because you're so tired. You’ve heard drowning isn't so bad. Like going to sleep, they say. You can do that. That's nothing compared to this.

You catch sight of a face at your side, barely breaching the surface. His face. His eyes are closed and his mouth is slack. Like he's sleeping.

You go back to swimming.

“Breathe, goddamn you!” You sob. Even though you're numb from the cold, your hand is trembling as you pound against his back with your fist. Between the shoulder blades, behind his lungs. Every hit makes a wet slap. His white uniform is soaked through and nearly translucent. It clings to him. The water, greedy, still won't let him go. “Don't you fucking do this, you prick! Wake up!”

He doesn't flinch under your assault. Not even when you roll him back over onto the rocky sand and press a rhythm into his ribs.

This is worse, you think, because now you can see his face and feel the ghost of his angry stare, even through his closed eyelids. His skin is grey and clammy, his lips nearly blue, and his beard and hair are slick and dark with water. His expression is relaxed. Peaceful. Not asleep. He's never looked like that before. This isn't how he's supposed to look.

The only movement beneath your hands is the jolt of his body from the compressions.

You let out a scream of frustration.

The waves lap at your face, forcing salt up your nose on an inhale. You splutter, losing your grip on that arm slung around your shoulders, and for a moment it slips. You kick frantically at the water as you scramble for him.

“No—” Your voice gets choked off by the whitecap of another wave.

You grab at his face, drive it back above the surface, even as you plunge below it. Whatever else you were going to shout is lost in a cloud of bubbles. You're the only thing keeping him from sinking to the bottom now. Just you, clinging to the hope of life.

You can't think about that dead weight.

You fight back to the surface with a cough, spitting out a mouthful of saltwater. You have to keep moving. You have to keep—

You’re being shaken awake. The hand on your shoulder is warm, but the grip is almost harsh—unforgiving as the fingers dig into your flesh.

You blink your eyes open to find Kino staring down at you with a frown. The light from the small fire throws shadows across his face and deepens the lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth and along his forehead, making him look even more severe than he usually does.

“You were dreaming again,” he grumbles. Then he releases your shoulder without warning, nearly shoving away from you in the process, and he shuffles back across to his side of the small cave to resume lying down.

Now that you're conscious, all of your injuries and pains from the past few days come rushing back to fill your awareness. You let out a groan as you push yourself up off the cold stone floor. Not that sitting is any better—there’s a rock digging into your ass to prove your point, and you send it skittering. It doesn't make a difference. With a sigh, you rub the heels of your hands into your heavy eyelids in an attempt to clear the blurriness from your vision.

“Sorry,” you try, your voice hoarse with sleep. You quickly clear your throat and try again. “Didn't mean to wake you.”

He only grunts in response.

The sky at the mouth of the cave is a slate grey. It’s been raining the last few days—as if the water is trying to follow you ashore—so you aren't sure if the muted light is the growing dawn or due to the thick storm clouds that leave the landscape darkened, no matter where the sun is overhead. It's made everything damp and chilly, and you can feel it in every joint and bone. Between that, your desperate and adrenaline fueled escape from the prison, nearly drowning, and laying on the hard, rocky ground, your entire body aches.

You're both still wearing your white and orange uniforms, though they're worn and filthy now. More brown than white. The fabric is also next to useless outside of a temperature controlled environment, but you have nothing else to keep you warm and nothing at all for your feet. You’d gotten lucky that there had been driftwood piled inside the seaside cave, brought in by the tide and left safe from the rain. Kino had found several more pieces along the beach on that first day and dragged them into the shelter to dry out. Neither of you dared to venture any further afterwards, either from fear or exhaustion.

The last of the wood is burning between you, and, when it’s gone, there won't be anything left to keep the chill at bay. You know you’ll have to recommend sharing body heat at some point soon, but you're reluctant to do so because you also know it won't go over well. You're certain it's the last thing he wants, even if the alternative is stubbornly dying from exposure.

“Think they’ve moved on yet?” You ask, just to have something to distract you from your thoughts.

“Doubt it,” he replies in that gruff voice.

“Yeah,” you sigh. You slump forward and let your forearms rest on your knees, suddenly weary. “But we're going to have to leave eventually. We need food and real shelter.”

“You’re too weak to walk it,” he says to the cave wall.

“I’m fine,” you insist.

Kino's head whips around, and he meets your eyes with a glare. “No, you're not.” You let out a noise of disgust before you can reconsider, and his jaw clenches in response. “You nearly died.”

“Don’t start this again.” You mean it as a plea, but it comes out merely resigned in your exhaustion. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve had this argument since you first woke up to him coughing and shouting on the beach. You don't want to have it again.

“Like you’d listen anyway,” he says. And then he scowls, like you're the problem.

Alright, maybe you'll have it one more time.

“Gods, that bit of power really did go straight to your thick skull didn't it?” You laugh in disbelief. “Why can't you just accept that it was my choice? Mine!”

“I’m well aware of your poor decision making!” He shoots back. Then he sits up to face you, and now it's a proper fight, you think. “I’ve already told you, no one was supposed to die because of me!”

“And I already told you to get over yourself!” You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Do I look fucking dead to you? Hmm?”

“Don't act like it wasn't a close call!”

“I never said it wasn't.” You pinch at the bridge of your nose in an attempt to keep your frustration at bay. Screaming won't make him listen to reason, no matter how good it will feel. “What would you have had me do, Kino? Just let you drown?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation.

“Well, I didn't.” Your arm flops to your side, too heavy to hold up now. “So maybe you should just consider being fucking grateful instead.”

“I didn't ask for this!” He snaps. It's followed by an immediate look of regret.

Oh. That's new. You take a moment to study his face—the way he can suddenly no longer meet your eyes, like he's ashamed of all things.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You ignore his sardonic, “You.”

Because you don't understand him. Is he really this upset or his pride so wounded over the fact that he needed to be saved? Is he truly this angry just because someone—or more specifically you—saw him when he was weak after being in control for so long? Those are convenient reasons. They're probably even contributing to his horrid mood, but they don't feel as if they’re the reason. It's almost as if—

“You wanted to die.” The shocked realization tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.

There's a long, deafening beat of silence.

“You don't know what you're talking about,” he says quietly as he gathers those strong arms around himself and crosses them like a shield.

Part of your mind is screaming at you to just drop it. You’ve entered new territory. You've never made him defensive like this before, and you don't know how he'll react. But based on all of your previous interactions with him, you know it won't be pleasant. Which is an understatement. The stubborn part of you, however, hopes that this means you're actually making progress. And if you’ve come this far…

“Is that why you won't even try to leave this shit hole again?” You press. “Is that why you're trading one prison for another?”

“That has nothing to do with this,” he says as he narrows his eyes at you, and you're almost disappointed to hear some of his anger returning.

“Yeah right,” you scoff.

“Listen, neither of us is in any condition to evade the searches. All we’re going to accomplish is getting caught.” It sounds almost reasonable, but you know better. You know it for what it really is: a deflection. You did hit a nerve.

“That's only going to get worse,” you argue back. “The lack of food is going to weaken us further, assuming we don't freeze to death first.”

“And it will still be easier if we're not being hunted. We have to be patient,” he says as his frown deepens, frustration beginning to take root once again. “Let them think we’re dead or gone.”

“And how long will that take? Days? Weeks?”

“A hell of a lot longer than three days!”

“Fine. Then we should at least go out and do some scouting so we have an idea of which way to go when the time comes,” you offer instead. “We might even find supplies.”

“It's too risky,” he says dismissively as he waves you off. You bristle against the gesture. “We’re safe here. The cave entrance is hard to find, but if we go in and out too often, we’ll draw attention to ourselves.”

“There's always going to be risk, Kino, whether we leave tonight or a week from now. If we wait, it could be too late,” you point out. “For all we know, the Empire is sending a blockade to keep us all trapped here! Then what?”

“They aren't going to send a blockade for a prison break,” he scoffs.

“And how can you possibly know that?”

“How can you?”

“Why is it so hard for you to trust me?” You hate the hint of misery that seeps into your voice and betrays how much that idea pains you.

“Why should I? If I recall correctly, your judgment has nearly gotten you killed once already,” he says in a mocking tone.

You glare at him. “My judgment saved both our lives.”

He glares right back. “I'm starting to think that was sheer dumb luck.”

Oh, how fucking dare he. After everything you went through—

“I didn't realize you were such a coward,” you say coldly, desperate to hurt him as much as he's hurt you.

The tendons in his neck go taut with rage. “Fuck you,” he spits, but he no more than gets the words out when he's racked with a violent coughing fit. The force of it makes him double over onto the cave floor, and his body heaves with each one.

You wince at the sight, feeling ashamed of your comment now. You didn't want this.

The coughing spells are a parting gift from Narkina 5—the water still won't let him go. He's had a few of them since you got him to shore and forced the ocean from his lungs, and each one sounds a little bit worse than the one before. You're no healer, but that's obviously not a good sign. He needs medicine. You also haven't broached the subject with him because you know it will just start a fight.

As if everything you say doesn't start a fight.

You lean back to wait it out, letting your head thunk tiredly against the cave wall. There's nothing you can do to help him and trying will only make it worse—you learned that the hard way. Plus, it doesn't seem fair to argue with him while he's like this, even if you're only doing it to get through to him for his own good, the stubborn jerk.

It takes several minutes before he finally stops coughing long enough to get his breathing under control. Then he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, rights himself with as much dignity as he can muster, and gives you a cold, hard stare. “Go, then, if you're in such a hurry to end up back in a cell,” he grits out, his voice a strained, wet gravel.

“Fine,” you huff, pushing yourself to your feet. “Stay here and waste away if you want. See if I care. I can find a way off this slag heap by myself.”

You almost make it past the mouth of the cave.

The moment your foot touches the rain slicked rock, the combination of fatigue and an unsteady gait causes you to slip. You hit the ground with a grunt, landing hard on your hip. Sharp, hot pain shoots through the joint, curling up your spine and down your leg. The shock of it takes your breath away, and your eyes sting with fresh tears.

Oh, brilliant, you think caustically. Of all the times to fall on your ass.

Behind you, Kino swears. A second later, you hear the slap of his bare feet on rock as he stomps towards you.

“Broken?” He doesn't quite snap the question at you, but it's a near thing.

“No,” you choke out.

“You have a fucking death wish,” he growls before he hauls you to a sitting position.

Despite the pain, that statement makes you laugh, though it's a bitter, near hysterical sound. You tilt your head back to grin up at him. “Guess we make quite the pair, huh?”

He doesn't respond.

He just shoves his hands under your armpits in an attempt to get a grip on you with those thick fingers. Then your laughter quickly dissolves into a wounded hiss as he drags you back into the cave with no care for your new injury. You're not sure why you suddenly expected him to start coddling you. He never did before.

He dumps you back into the spot you’ve been occupying, glad to be rid of you, and you catch yourself with your hands before you land in a heap.

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath.

After that, neither of you speaks for a while, content to sit and lick your wounds in what passes for peace now. Eventually, the pain in your hip lessens to a dull throb and the fire is reduced to embers, the long hours sucking the heat out of both.

Outside, the sky has gotten a bit lighter, but is still that dreary mask of grey that makes time feel nebulous. Unknowable. The rain, at least, had turned into a mist about an hour ago. Without the sound of the drops echoing throughout the cave, the silence is unforgiving. Every shuffle along the rock, every sniffle or sigh, every brush of clothes is harsh between you.

“Why are you so mad at me?” You finally ask, desperate for any noise that isn't him heavily exhaling a whistle through his nose.

“I already told you,” he replies, emotionless.

“I’m not talking about that,” you sigh. “You hated me the moment I stepped onto the floor.”

In the low light, there's a brief look of shock on his profile before his scowl returns in full force. “I didn't hate you.”

“Yes you did. You could barely look at me. And you yelled at me all the time.” He opens his mouth to protest, but you continue on so he can't interrupt you. “Look, I understand, in a way. I was slower than nearly all of the men, and you were pissed about being stuck with me. But it's not like I did it on purpose.”

“It wasn't that.” There's a renewed touch of exasperation in his voice. You're intimately familiar with that tone. You’ve heard the way he normally sounds when speaking to other people—got to see what it was like without ever experiencing it yourself—but you’ve never spoken to him without receiving either his impatience or his distaste. You prepare yourself for another fight.

“Then why? Because I was a distraction?” Your bitterness bleeds from you, an anguish built from months of labor and fear. And loneliness, you think. Because, even though you’d been constantly surrounded by people, you’d never felt so completely and utterly alone.

“It's nothing.” He rolls onto his side to face the cave wall, intent on ignoring you.

“It clearly wasn't nothing,” you respond dryly.

“Just drop it,” he says over his shoulder.

“No.” You cross your arms. You're done listening to him just because he tells you to. You don't have to now. You're not in there anymore. “After everything, I think I deserve to know what I did to have you treat me that way.”

“And I don't want to fucking talk about it,” he growls.

“Well, too damn bad! Because there's nothing else to talk about, and I want to know why you hated me when all I wanted was—” You cut yourself off with a hitched breath before you accidentally finish that sentence.

Fighting is one thing. That's easy. Safe. But this is something big and messy that you're still trying to come to terms with, made all the more complicated by your current situation, which was already plenty complicated before. This will only make things worse. You know it will. And despite all the hurtful things you’ve said to each other, you wouldn't be able to stomach his rejection. His pity. His disgust—couldn’t handle being forced to endure it while stuck in this damned cave and made to wallow in the forced intimacy of the space that's anything but. No, this is the one truth you could never take back.

To your embarrassment, your voice is rough and raw with emotion when you speak again. “When all I wanted was to be treated like a person.”

“If that's what you wanted, you were in the wrong place,” he says coldly to the cave wall. “Now shut up and let me sleep.”

“No!” You shout. You no longer care if you’re being petulant because you are angry about it. You’ve been holding onto the feeling for months, but you're tired now. You don't want to carry it around anymore. “I won't let you bully me into silence. I want the truth.”

“Keep your voice down!” He hisses as he flings himself upright to glare at you. Every bit of him is rigid with tension. Dangerous. At least he's looking at you again.

“Then answer me!” You stubbornly glare back at him. “You owe me that much.”

“Fine! I was afraid, alright?” He finally snarls, reminding you of a cornered animal, spitting as it lashes out. “Is that what you want to hear? That you were right? That I'm a coward?”

“What?” All of your anger leaves you in a sudden rush. The hiding, the running, the water—that fear you can understand. But this? You stare at him in genuine confusion. “Why?”

“Because I was scared shitless about what could happen to you! That place was cruel to the men it was designed for. Whatever it had in store for you was going to be much worse. I thought…” He runs a hand down his face and over the scruff of his beard, now grown out beyond a neat trim. The action wipes his own anger away, and underneath it is something human: exhaustion and vulnerability. “I thought, if I kept you at a distance, it would hurt less when it finally broke you, but you made it so damn hard.”

“Oh,” you breathe out in shock, as though you’ve just had the wind knocked out of you. You have, in a way, because, gods, what can you possibly say to that? It's the last thing you were expecting—realistically, you thought he was worried your lack of strength or speed would get someone else killed. This, however…you couldn't have even imagined this. The implication of it… “Kino—”

“Don't. Okay?” He cuts you off. And then he turns away to shut you out as well. “Just…fucking don't.”

So instead you sit there in the uneasy quiet of the cave, feeling adrift. Helpless. Like you're right back in the middle of the ocean, at the mercy of the waves, with nothing to hold onto to keep from sinking; there’s only water in your fumbling grasp. At least then you'd known which way you were supposed to go, it was the getting there that was the problem. Now you don't even have that. You wonder if you’d have the energy to even try if you did.

A part of you wants nothing more than to reexamine every interaction, every look, and every word he’s ever spoken to you and see what you might uncover that you'd missed, but you can't do that with him right there. His presence just muddles everything up until you can't help but mix reality and memory, past and present, assumption and realization. You're nearly dizzy with it.

Plus, knowing that things weren't so black and white between you doesn't change what happened or how you feel. You’ve been hurting and angry for a while—especially at him, and most of which he still deserves for how he treated you. That something more existed lessens the intensity of those feelings, but it doesn't erase them completely. Not yet. Reconciling what you know and what you thought you knew will only come with time.

To the rest of you, however, that reconciliation doesn't seem as important as your fear at almost losing him or the realization that there is something more than just hatred on his end. Even if that thing is nothing more than kindness and compassion, it's something. And you could have died not knowing that. Or worse, you could have lived without knowing instead.

Gods, complicated is an understatement. If only you could have wanted something easy for once. You wonder if he thought the same thing as he watched you from across the work floor. And it feels odd to think that maybe it's not such an unrealistic hope anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, breaking the silence between you at last.

He laughs, and it manages to sound condescending. The familiarity of it is grounding. “What do you have to be sorry about?”

“I guess…” What are you apologizing for? For misunderstanding him? For making his life harder, even if it wasn't your fault? For not agreeing with him? For being unable to shoulder his anger? For continuing to push and push and push. Maybe all of it, you realize. For your part in the making of this. “I guess for saving you when you didn't want me to,” you answer with a shrug instead.

At first, you think he isn't going to respond to that, and you can no longer find it in yourself to blame him. But then, with a voice that’s softer than you’ve ever heard from him—weren’t even sure he was capable of it—he says, “It's not that I didn't want to be saved.”

“Then why? Help me to understand, Kino,” you plead, praying that he won't clam up or lash out again. Not when you've come so far. “Please.”

He gives you a heavy, resigned look before settling his attention on the cave entrance where his gaze becomes unseeing. Though there are only a few feet between you, he suddenly seems miles away.

“When we were planning all of this, I knew what was waiting for us on the outside. I mean, they built the fucking thing in the middle of an ocean and I can't swim. How ironic is that? All that work, and I was gonna make it to the door just to drown.” Then, quietly, “I never gave a thought to what I would do if I didn't. Now I've got no clue what comes next.”

“Neither do I,” you say in disbelief.

He lets out a dark laugh. “Sure don't act like it,” he mutters.

“I’m just better at hiding it.” You give him a small smile that he cannot see.

“Maybe I should be, too,” he muses to himself. “It’d be a hell of a lot better than feeling so lost.”

“Hiding it doesn't make that go away,” you say sadly. You know that all too well.

His only reply is a non-committal hum, and it suddenly occurs to you that he has no clue what you actually went through. How could he? He lept into the water and woke up on shore with nothing but darkness in between. All he knows is that you saved him. Without the rest, he thinks he's struggling alone.

“I almost gave up, you know,” you admit quietly.

That gets his attention again. He turns to look at you, and his eyes are wide with fear and concern. “What?” He gasps.

“I could barely see the shore when the adrenaline wore off. When faced with that distance, all that water, and no strength left?” You shrug in an attempt to seem unbothered, even as the memory fills you with dread. “For one horrible moment, I suppose drowning just seemed easier.” Like going to sleep, you don't say. “But I couldn't. I looked at you, and I couldn't. Not without trying first. And before you say anything, leaving you behind was never an option. Not for me. If this place was going to win, it was going to have to take us both.”

“I never wanted that,” he says helplessly. “When I came to and saw you laying there, I thought you were dead.” His voice breaks and he takes in a deep, shaky breath, but it does little to steady him. “I knew then what you did for me, and I thought it killed you. That after everything, it was me. I broke you, and it wasn't worth it. Not me.”

“You didn't,” you insist, desperate to make him listen. You recognize that despair because it's the same one that haunts your dreams and doesn't let go when you're awake. It's the same fear that grips your chest in icy fingers whenever you catch his sleeping face or you're forced to sit by and listen to him cough—the water still won't let him go. You understand now that he needs the reassurance that it's over just as much as you do. So you push yourself to your knees and dare to move closer, despite the protest of your aching body. “I’m right here. See? I was just tired afterwards, that's all. Just tired. I’m right here.”

Without warning, he reaches for you, and, even though he's never harmed you, you flinch thinking maybe you’ve finally pushed him too far. Only, he grabs the front of your uniform and pulls you to him, just as unkindly as he dragged you across the cave. And then you think he's going to scream again, but when he opens his mouth, he leans in and crushes your lips together instead.

You freeze against him.

Because Kino Loy is kissing you, and that can't be right. He hates you. His mouth can only scowl and scream and cough and—there’s a little grunt from the back of his throat as he adjusts the angle of your lips, and, oh, this is real. Without another thought, you're kissing him back.

At first, there's only tentative relief—at the reassurance, the sensation, at finally getting something you want—but heat starts to build in the breath-humid space between your bodies the longer you kiss and kiss. Something born of more than lust or desire. And though they flicker in your belly as well, it's a bone deep desperation to feel alive that drives you forward and aches to be quelled.

When you break apart to catch your breath, he rests his forehead against yours. Close enough for your noses to brush together and to feel each hard exhale—that blessed, life sustaining air—across your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a sob. His voice is low and thick with grief against your mouth. The sound and shape of it is so different from his anger—in the low light, only a ghost of that harshness is left, clinging to the shadowy lines of his face. You don't have to ask what he's apologizing for.

“Show me,” you whisper back. You let your lips brush over his again in invitation. He responds by delving into the wet heat of your mouth and wrapping you in his arms with a moan.

So you give yourself over to the exploration of his tongue against yours and his large, callus roughened hands as they engulf the sides of your face, caught in the whirlwind of him. It leaves you breathless faster than you like, and when you break for air again, you don't want to give him a moment to change his mind or to pull away completely. So your mouth wanders to his cheeks, the scruff on his jaw, his Adam's apple, the hollow of his throat above the collar of his uniform—seeking out every bit of him that you can reach as he pants and swallows beneath your lips.

He smells like sweat and smoke and saltwater, and his skin is sharp and briny on your tongue as you lap at a spot on his neck. He tastes like drowning, and for a moment you're lost in the memory of him in the water, his weight pulling you beneath the waves. His lifeless face staring up at you from the shore. But then he sucks in a sharp breath, jolting you back to the present, and his lips are on yours again. Warm. Alive. Not the cold flesh you forced air through. Not the same shared breath.

“Wanna see you,” you gasp into his mouth as you lift at the hem of his shirt.

Without a word, he moves to obey.

You both peel away your filthy uniforms with trembling hands, revealing bodies that are just as dirty and unwashed to the chilled air, but beneath all of that is color. His flush of arousal. Bruises that are starting to fade, a gruesome rainbow of healing. The shadows playing in the shifting of muscle as he reaches for you to pull you back into the warmth of his arms. Alive.

He's the first soft thing you’ve touched after days of nothing but rock. And before that, months of only tools and labor and struggle. You bask in the sensation: The greying hair on his chest, the roundness of his belly and hips, salt dried skin, his palm on your cheek. The other on your thigh. He’s softer than you remember from when you were hauling him through the waves—

You wrap your hand around his cock, and his heartbeat throbs in your fist. Alive.

He lets out a groan when you stroke him, something deep and guttural that rumbles through the cave like thunder. The sound sends blood and heat rushing to your core, where it pools between your thighs and leaves you aching and empty. You tease the silken foreskin over his length and work your thumb along the underside of the swollen head just to hear more of it.

With a growl, he falls upon you, pulling you in for a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongues and hunger. His hand cups the swell of your breast while his thumb circles your nipple. You cry out and arch into the roughness of his hand. Then you're both eagerly groping and learning all the ways you can draw more noises from each other until you're left squirming against the insistent throbbing between your legs.

“I want you inside of me,” you murmur into his mouth.

He clenches his eyes shut as his breath hitches, and you're thrilled you can get that reaction out of him. But then he opens his eyes again and, in a shaky voice, asks, “You're sure?”

“Yes!” You growl, impatient. “Fuck me, Kino.”

He lets out a groan. “If you keep that up, I’m not gonna last very long.”

“Don't care as long as your cock is inside me first.”

“Fuck!” He hisses. His hips involuntarily jerk forward at the thought, and said cock grinds into the bend of your groin. “Then I'll give you what you want.”

After that reaction, you think he's going to throw you down and do just that. Instead, his touch gentles, his palm cradling the base of your skull as he lays you out along the rock. The movement doesn't make you feel delicate or like something that's injured and cowering in a cave, but rather like something to be revered.

This is his apology.

A caress along your inner knee has your legs falling open, leaving you exposed before him. Before you can be self-conscious about it, he gives your arousal a heated look that drives the thought from your mind. Then he traces a fingertip up the tender skin of your thigh, and fire licks from your thigh to your belly.

For a moment, you wonder what it would be like to have this on the other side of the galaxy. Not in a cave, but in a bed, warm and clean with a full stomach. Maybe it would be sweet like this between you the whole time rather than something that's taking an effort just to maintain. Because you know this is only a moment—a reprieve. It can't last, not when that cold desperation and panic are rebuilding within your gut.

It's a lovely thought. But by the time he kneels between your thighs, you need again. You pull him down and he goes willingly, falling to brace his hands on the stony ground on either side of your shoulders. Then you hold your breath as he closes the distance, slowly, until the length of his cock is resting and throbbing, flush against your sex.

Your hips grind up against him, trapping him between your heat and his belly so that when he thrusts back, seeking more, he drags himself along your wet folds; the sensitive head of his cock rubs against your clit. Both of you moan, wounded and strangled sounds. So he does it again. And again. Over and over until you're both gasping and shuddering at the slick friction.

All the while he stares down at you, studying you. Taking in the way your face contorts and breaks with pleasure. His eyes are sea blue, you realize—the water, greedy—so wild and deep and pulling you in. It sets your pulse racing and makes your palms sweat against his shoulders. You turn away from the intensity in that gaze.

“No.” To your surprise, he takes your chin between his finger and thumb, not gentle but steady, and he forces you to look anyway. To face him. “Let me see you.”

He holds you there with the weight of his body as he shifts to nudge at your opening. It's so close to what you need. Your legs wrap around his waist in silent encouragement. Then, once he's lined up, he sinks forward with a groan and stretches you open on his cock until you're aching and full.

His mouth goes slack. Those eyes become heavy and lidded. Not closed—alive. Which makes all the difference to your wounded mind. So you drink in the sight of him like this, buried in the tight embrace of your cunt. A ruinous look.

You're drowning again.

It scares you, just how much you want to give yourself over and let go. How easy it would be to become lost. To believe that this is something more than desperation. But then his eyes refocus and whatever tenderness had gripped him is absent from that gaze. In its place is hunger. Need. Urgency.

“Gods, you're so tight,” he grinds out from behind clenched teeth as he gives a shallow thrust into you. The sound goes straight to your core, soaking him further. “Feels so good.”

Then he finally—finally—fucks you. Hard and fast.

The ground is cold and unrelenting beneath your spine where you're folded and crushed against it. Above you, he's blanketing you in heat and the delicious slide of flesh along your nerves. A lovely contrast already, but then his hand finds your hip, his fingers digging into your fresh bruise, and you gasp from the pain—it hurts, but if it hurts that means you're alive. He doesn't stop at the sound. Instead, there's understanding in those eyes as he pulls you in to meet each plunge of his cock, and, oh, that's even better.

You spare a thought for his knees right before he shifts. Then he's dragging against that spot inside of you, and your mind goes blissfully empty with pleasure. Your head falls back, weightless with it. At that opening, he buries his face in your neck, muffling every grunt into your skin. He presses the vibrations of them into your flesh and bones alongside his exhales, the scrape of his beard, the unconscious skim and purse of his lips. You shiver.

You won't come from this alone, but you don't care. This is enough. You just need to feel something—need the proof that he's alive. That you're alive. That this IS real and not some drawn out hallucination your dying brain came up with between the span of one heartbeat and your last.

But it has to be real. Even in your darkest moments, alone in your cell, you never allowed yourself to want this—the thing you could not have. The galaxy had been cruel enough on its own without any assistance from you. So there were no images or dreams in your mind to conjure this from. Which means these messy kisses, the wet noise of your joining, your sweat slicked skin, his hair, salt-stiffened and curled between your fingers, must be real. It also means every moment of this is new and unburdened by expectation or comparison.

It's everything else that haunts you.

All too soon, and just as promised, his body grows tense, and he starts to tremble above you. Between your exhaustion and his unrelenting pace, this was never intended to last. And he's so close, but when he meets your eyes, you see hesitation. Uncertainty. When he moves to pull away, you realize he means to finish by stroking and spilling himself across your belly instead. But that isn't what you need.

“No! Don’t,” you beg. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you grasp at his neck and shoulders, unwilling to let him go with a strength that surprises you both. Then you roll your hips and grind yourself onto his cock, dragging a hiss out of him. “I want to feel you.”

He groans as he yields to your plea, too near that edge to argue, so he falls right back into a punishing rhythm. Yet underneath the hunger and determination, there's anguish now, too. As if by doing this, he remains afraid he'll break you somehow. Still, he clings to your hips as every thrust turns short and sharp with purpose until, at last, he buries himself fully and chases that relief in the depths of your cunt.

When he comes, the only sound he makes is a harsh sob. And then his cock is pulsing inside of you, filling you with warmth. Life.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

He collapses heavily at your side with a few wet coughs, spent and too exhausted to hold himself up any longer. You lay there for a moment, listening to his ragged breathing, unsure of what comes next. You're afraid he’ll push you away once his mind clears. That he’ll go back to hating you from across the cave, now muggy with the scent of sex, as his come leaks down your thighs.

He doesn't.

Instead, he holds his arms open in silent invitation and you realize he's offering you a choice: move forward with or without him. And this time, you know he accepts that it's your decision to make. But you’ve already made this choice once, when you watched him slip beneath the waves. When you dove for him in the water, hauled him back out of it, and then forced it from his lungs. It was just as easy to make then. Maybe now he’ll understand what it means.

You go to him and curl against him in acceptance. He kisses the fragile skin of your temple, and then he helps you get settled by tucking your head under his chin and rubbing warmth in a soothing pattern along your stone chilled back. Your hand finds his waist. His leg entangles with yours. Back and forth until there's nothing but drying sweat between you, as if you have always fit together in this way.

You want to savor this. More than that, you want to have this if you can. If he’ll let you. If he doesn't go back to holding you at a distance out of habit and self-preservation in a day or so, always waiting for the worst to happen and scared of the hurt that might follow. As if anything could be worse than losing him now. Then he really would be the thing that broke you. A self fulfilling prophecy. You almost want to laugh at the irony.

All at once, the silence feels heavier than you can bear.

“Never again tell me you aren't worth it,” you whisper fiercely to the cave. “You are to me.”

He doesn't respond, but the hand splayed over your ribs twitches before clutching you tighter.

“We’ll try in the morning,” he says quietly instead. Under your ear, the compromise rumbles loudly throughout his chest. Beneath that, his steady heartbeat.

His statement doesn't fill you with anything as naive as hope. The Empire is still looking for you, and they aren't ever going to stop now. You’ve only traded imprisonment for the illusion of freedom. The thought claws at you, threatens to pull you under. But there's an arm around your shoulders that squeezes as it holds you close, and you remember that you can't let go. You can't lose him. You won't. You have to keep moving.

“In the morning,” you agree.

"Hey,” he said, half-asleep, “what were you before me?” “I think I was drowning.” A pause. “And what are you now?” he whispered, sinking. I thought for a second. “Water."

- Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

A/N: The song for this fic is Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish btw.

#andy serkis #kino loy #kino loy x reader #kino loy x f!reader #x reader #remember you are half water fic #fanfiction #andor #star wars

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artzychic27 · 5 months ago

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Part 2

Ondine: MARC! Where are you?!

Marc: *Appears behind her in a puff of black smoke* Ondine! Did you come all this way to visit me? Oh, I’m touched.

Ondine: No, I came for Adrien.

Marc: Well, if you’re gonna be all rude about it.

Ondine: Just remember what I told you.

Marc: Yeah, yeah, stay away from baby sunshine or I will feel your wrath, I got it. But can ya blame me? He just so easy!

Ondine: *Sternly* Marc…

Marc: Okay, fine! I won’t steal his Pegasus plushie again.

Ondine: And?

Marc: And suspend him over a pool of lava.

Ondine: Or?

Marc: Or make him hide the money I stole?

Ondine: Also?

Marc: *Groans* Also, I won’t keep goading Nathaniel into getting angry so that he hulks out and crushes me with his freakishly strong hands.

Ondine: Huh? I couldn’t care less about that. Just stay away from Adrien.

Marc: Oh, that’s it? Sure, whatever! *Spots Nathaniel sketching* Now, if you’ll excuse me. Oh, Nath! *Runs after him*

@msweebyness @imsparky2002

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #marc anciel #Ondine #mlb au #marvel comics #marvel

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sketch-guardian · 3 months ago

Note

Is it okay to ask if you would ever make a post about your obey me ocs personalities and what they like, they look so cool!!

Hi! I'm sorry for the late reply😖also please don't worry, it's perfectly okay to ask questions and I'm glad that you like my OCs☺that makes me very happy💕especially considering that only a few people are interested in them🙈so feel free to send asks about my OCs, I don't mind and would try to respond as soon as possible✨

In any case, I also read the second ask, so considering that I haven't written anything yet about the personality and likes of my angel OCs, this post will be about them😇I hope that's okay🙈:

"NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS FROM THE CELESTIAL REALM'S PERSONALITIES AND LIKES"

REMIEL

Remiel is an angel of death, and her true form is as the Archangel of Hope. She's the daughter of Death and Azrael, so she is half angel-half nephilim. Remiel always seems somber, gloomy, quiet, but very caring and cautious, especially with the souls she helps reach the afterlife. She has a very soft voice and rarely gets angry, at most she can get disappointed and she's the type to offer second chances, because she believes in redemption if repentance is genuine. Remiel doesn't know human customs well and is rather dense when it comes to feelings or jokes. She's very literal-minded and straightforward, although gentle, so she often needs help to fill her knowledge gaps and satisfy her curiosity. Remiel likes to learn new things, both through books and experiences, the sky, nature and observing the world she isn't used to, since she deals with the dead

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel is a quite high rank angel, like a seraph, and embodies the virtue of Patience. He has a rather serious, ethereal and calm aura, it seems like nothing can shake his stoic attitude, however he's chiller than he seems and willing to lend a hand and offer important lessons/advice to those who need it. One of Nathaniel's traits is that he almost never speaks, he expresses himself mostly with gestures or nods, however he's able to communicate eloquently. To compare Nathaniel to a character, he might resemble Kris from Deltarune, although more graceful. Nathaniel appreciates quiet places, helping others, butterflies, comfortable clothes and exploring

URIEL

Uriel is a warrior angel and embodies courage and justice, she lives to fight and defend and takes her duty very seriously, she rarely breaks rules and under that armor, there is a soul unsure of her own value. Uriel cares about discipline and is quite serious, stubborn, too proud (tsundere-) to let herself go, even if she can be persuaded. Uriel's a very protective angel and unfortunately she still has prejudices towards demons due to the celestial war, so she needs help to overcome her resentment. Uriel enjoys training with her sword of holy light, feeling useful and appreciated, exercising, and flying. She doesn't have much free time, so she may be pushed to actually find new hobbies

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celestiall0tus · 7 months ago

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Tales of Bloody Bug and Chat Noir - Chapter 29 - Christmas Party

Beginning || Previous || Next

Alix finished wrapping her present for Chloe’s Christmas party, then checked the time. She would need to head out soon. She sighed and got ready when she heard Tikki make gagging noises. She turned as Tikki spat up a small red stone that looked like half of the yin-yang symbol.

“Ew, Tikki, what is that?” Alix demanded.

“A kwagatama. It’s a symbol of great friendship between a holder and a kwami.”

Alix’s eyes widened as she picked up the kwagatama. “For real? You mean it?”

“Yup. And it’s more than just a mere symbol. With it, you can speak with other ladybug holders. And, well, I spoke to Plagg and there’s someone I want you to meet. She was also a ladybug, but not for as long as the others. I hope that, maybe, she may be a new guiding light for you.”

Alix’s face softened as she scooped up Tikki and nuzzled her. “Thank you, Tikki. So, when do I meet with them?”

“Give me a week to retrieve her with Plagg.”

“Retrieve her?”

“Yes. See, this ladybug holder doesn’t exist anymore. Technically speaking that is. Plagg and I need to pull her out of the void and restore her. Just be warned. When we restore her, a certain… condition will be unmet and need to be fulfilled once again by other means.”

“What’ll happen?”

“I don’t know, but I trust in you. I know whatever may come, you and I will be able to face it together as one with Adrien and Plagg.”

“You can count on it.”

Tikki beamed. “Thank you. Now, let’s go! You don’t want to be late.”

Alix nodded. She got ready, grabbed her present, and headed over to Le Grand Paris. She stepped into the main lobby to see it decked out with party decorations, tables filled with catered sweets and drinks, and a swarm of guests. She glanced around for her secret Santa when Adrien tackled her in a hug.

“Alix! You made it,” Adrien cheered.

“Adrien! Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

“He’s just worried since Lila and Marinette are lurking around here,” Kagami said.

“What? Why are they here?”

“Lila likely stole an invitation, and Marinette’s family is one of the caterers.”

“Have they given you any trouble?”

“None more than usual.”

“Well, why don’t we enjoy the festivities, yeah? Oh, but first I need to drop off my secret Santa gift.”

“Oh, that table over there with all the gifts on it,” Adrien pointed out.

Alix nodded and dropped off her present before she joined Adrien and Kagami in the festivities. Alix basked in their companionship as they were later joined by Mylene, Rose, and Ivan. They all enjoyed each other’s company when Juleka, Luka, and Nathaniel joined them. Juleka and Nathaniel approached Alix, looking away, then up at her.

“Alix, I’m sorry for what I did as Evillustrator. I… I wasn’t myself, you know that, right?” Nathaniel asked.

“I do. I also don’t blame you for anything,” Alix said.

“What? Why? I almost-.”

“Nathaniel, I chose to die that day. All you did was give me an easy way out without realizing it. Besides, you shouldn’t be apologizing to me, but that guy.”

Nathaniel looked away. “I… I should. And I admit that I acted like an ass to him. I was just angry because I look up to Bloody Bug. She’s so strong, bold, and fearless. There’s nothing that she won’t do. I mean, she faced a dragon head-to-head without a hint of fear in her eyes. So, when I was given that diary, I thought it was actually hers and that I’d get to meet her again.”

“But when you saw that guy, all that hope was crushed,” Alix finished.

Nathaniel nodded.

“Well, tell you what. I’ll find that guy again and we’ll work something out. If he was able to write something that convinced you that it was Bloody Bug’s, then he’s one hell of a writer. One that you might be able to work with to create an amazing comic book.”

“Yeah. Yeah! I’ll do my part too. If I see him, I’ll try to make amends.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear, Tomato. Now, Juleka, what do you want?”

“I want to apologize for how I’ve been to you. Or, well, how I was that one time after Marinette was first akumatized.”

Alix raised a brow and crossed her arms. “Go on.”

“I’m ashamed to say that I let myself be fooled. I believed Marinette and Alya’s word about your character over what I’ve grown to known. If not for Rose… and Luka… I just might still.”

“Wait. Rose I believe, but Luka? What has Luka said about me?”

“It’s not what he’s said, but what he hasn’t. He’s not exactly subtle, yet no one else seems to notice. Quite a paradox, don’t you think?”

Alix furrowed her brow. She glanced back at Luka, who stood beside Rose. His eyes widened when they locked eyes before he turned away. She pursed her lips and looked at Nathaniel.

“Hey, see if you can’t find that guy here. Maybe you mend the bridge,” Alix suggested.

“But-!”

“Now!” Alix hissed.

Nathaniel raised his hands and ran away. Alix sighed and pulled Juleka away from the group.

“Juleka, Luka doesn’t have a crush on me, does he?”

Juleka looked away.

“Balls. I’m ending this.”

Juleka panicked and pulled Alix back. “Don’t. Please.”

“Juleka, I’m not about to let this fester.”

“But he’s changed so much. Don’t ruin this for him, please.”

“Juleka, it’s cute and all, but I have no interest in romance. If your brother was interested in the more, uh, physical side of a relationship while keeping things platonic, I wouldn’t mind so much. But he doesn’t seem the type.”

Juleka knotted her brows in thought as her eyes darted back and forth. “Alix, are you… would you happen to be… aromantic?”

“Aromantic? What’s that?”

“It’s when you don’t experience romantic attraction, but still experience other types of attraction. Most aros that I’ve heard about hate romance with a passion, but Rose told me that some aros do crave companionship, even without the romance piece. Something about it being a queer platonic relationship.”

“Queer platonic? What is that?”

Juleka held up a finger. She dipped into the group and spoke with Rose. Rose’s eyes widened as she ran up to Alix.

“I heard you have questions about the LGBT. Ask away.”

“Uh, right. What’s this about queer platonic relationships Juleka had mentioned?”

Rose gasped. “Are you aromantic, asexual, or both?”

“Juleka said aromantic, but not asexual, so just aromantic I think.”

Rose bounced excitedly. “That’s amazing! Ok, see, this is usually more common in aros, but not unheard of for the other two. Basically, a queer platonic relationship is where you have a relationship that is between friendship and romance. Most people would refer to it as friends with benefits, but it’s not. I’ve never experienced it myself, but it seems, how do you say, intimate in its own special way.”

Alix furrowed her brow. “That… that honestly sounds nice. Like, really nice. But I doubt people would be interested in that.”

Rose smiled and took Alix’s hands. “Well, no, but you’ll find those people that do. It’ll be disheartening as you go through people you’re attracted to for them to turn you down, but in time, you’ll find the ones that’ll accept that part of you. Just like how Juleka found me. You’ll find your someones too. I know you will.”

“Thank you, Rose, but also do me a favor.”

“What’s that?”

“I know Luka has a crush on me. If he ever brings it up to you, let it drop that I’m aromantic and what that entails. Would you do that?”

“Absolutely. Better to not let that one fester. Luka is a wonderful boy, but he has a gentle heart that is easily broken.”

“I’m glad you at least see reason. Unlike Juleka.”

“Oh, Juleka tries. She just… she wants the best for Luka. However, what she thinks is the best isn’t always the best, but there’s also no convincing her otherwise until she makes up her own mind. It can be frustrating, but once you know, it’s easier to handle.”

Alix hummed. She glanced at the group when Chloe’s voice boomed in the lobby.

“Good evening, everyone! I hope you’re all enjoying this little get together. It’s almost time for the secret Santa exchange, but before that, a little game and a personal gift from me to all of you.”

Alix watched as Chloe moved to a wall lined with stockings stuffed with assorted goodies. She tilted her head, her curiosity peaked.

“Sabrina and I put together a parting gift and a game. Each person may take one stocking and will find a random assortment of treats and prizes. But there’s a little something special in fifteen of these stockings. Those lucky to pick one of these stockings will find themselves in possession of an all exclusive, front-row, VIP, backstage ticket to Jagged Stone’s concert to kick off his Miraculous tour! And, not only do you get to meet rock hero, Jagged Stone, but also the heroes that safeguard our great city!”

Everyone erupted into gasps and excited chatter. Alix tilted her head and tapped Adrien on the shoulder.

“Is money bags being serious right now?”

“Yeah. She got those tickets as part of the you-know-what. We all technically did, but we just gave her ours and told her to figure out who to give them to,” Adrien whispered.

“Wait, they gave you guys those tickets? For what? To give to our friends?”

“Yeah, exactly. I didn’t like that, so I told Chlo to find a way to pass them out without drawing too much suspicion. I suppose this works, right?”

“I’d say so. Good job.”

“Now, before you take your parting gift, exchange your gifts, and check in with Sabrina. Once you have, you may take a stocking. And thank you again for coming to the one and only Bourgeois Christmas Extravaganza!” Chloe exclaimed.

Everyone rushed over to the present table to retrieve their gifts. Alix glanced over and saw Luka grab Juleka and rush over to the table as well. She was taken off guard by the sheer excitement and hope in his face. She hummed and maneuvered through the crowd to Sabrina.

“Oh, hi, Alix. Did you get your present already?”

“Uh, no. You know which of those stockings have the tickets, right?”

“I mean, yes, but-.”

“Could you make sure the Couffaines each get one? I just saw Luka drag Juleka away with such hope in his eyes. I think he wants one of those tickets.”

Sabrina’s eyes misted over as she placed a hand over her heart. “I’ll make sure. You can count on it.”

Alix smiled and gave Sabrina a quick hug before she headed over to the table and grabbed her secret Santa present for Adrien. She smiled and returned to the group and handed it to him.

“What’s this? Was I your secret Santa?” Adrien asked.

“Yeah. I know you’re coming over for Christmas anyway, but you know, a secret Santa is a secret Santa. So, here you go.”

Adrien opened the gift and gasped. He carefully took out a picture frame with a collage of photos with him with the Kubdels. In the bottom right of the collage was “The Kubdel Family” written on it. Tears fell from Adrien’s eyes as he hugged the frame.

“Thank you, sis. Thank you so much.”

“Anytime, bro. Now let’s find my secret Santa, get our parting gift, and blow this joint.”

“Could we get ice cream?”

Alix snorted and laughed. “Alright, we’ll get ice cream. Let’s go.”

Alix turned towards the table but stopped when she saw Mylene in her path. Mylene smiled and held up a wrapped present.

“Merry Christmas, Alix.”

Alix’s eyes widened. She opened the present to find a silver bracelet with assorted charms.

“What do you think? I made sure to get different charms for all of us, to remind you of us. See? I’m the leaf because I’m a nature warrior. Oh, and Ivan is the skull and cross bones because of you both liking that heavy metal music. Rose is the unicorn because it’s Rose. Nathaniel is the painter’s palette, Chloe is the diamond, Sabrina is the dog, and Adrien is the cat. Lastly, there’s the roller blades for you. Oh! And the little heart. Take a look.”

Alix looked at the heart charm and saw “You’re not alone” engraved on it. Her breath caught as she turned it over and saw “We’re with you” engraved on the back. She smiled, put on the bracelet, and hugged Mylene.

“Thank you. I love it.”

Mylene smiled and returned the hug. “I’m glad. Merry Christmas, Alix.”

“And Merry Christmas to you too, Mylene.”

Alix and Mylene waved good-bye as Alix and Adrien headed over to the line to Sabrina. Alix watched as other partygoers got their stockings. Most didn’t get a ticket while a few lucky ones did. She watched as Luka and Juleka moved up to the wall with certainty and took down a stocking. She watched as the twins searched their stockings and each found a ticket to Jagged Stone’s concert. She felt joy swell within her seeing Luka’s pure, unfiltered excitement as he and Juleka danced and celebrated at both of them getting a ticket.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Luka this anything,” Adrien commented.

“Me either, but I like it. You?”

Adrien sighed and smiled. “It looks amazing on him.”

Alix smirked. “My, Adrien, do you like Luka?

“Huh? Of course, I do. I’ve wanted to be friends with him since I met him. So, seeing him like this makes me happy. Maybe, someday, we can be friends.”

Alix smiled and patted Adrien on the back. “I’m sure you will. Just give him a little more time. He’s only just begun to come out of his shell. Don’t rush him.”

“Don’t worry. I learned my lesson.”

Alix chuckled. She and Adrien approached Sabrina, showed her their presents, and headed up to the wall. They each grabbed a stocking and checked them. They both got an abundance of sweets and beauty products, but no ticket. She sighed in relief and headed for the door with Adrien. They stepped out into the cold air and walked down the sidewalk for a bit before they disappeared into an alley. They transformed into Bloody Bug and Chat Noir. Bloody Bug took her yo-yo out, opened it, and put Adrien’s present inside for safekeeping.

“Alright, ready?”

“Always.”

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#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous au #au #alternate universe #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #mlb fanfic #alix kubdel #adrien agreste #mylene haprele #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #nathaniel kurtzberg #luka couffaine #bloody bug au

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mcheang · 1 year ago

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Chloe has got to go

Nino calls the resistance together for their next mission. Chloe has to leave Paris. It’s one thing to be unwillingly akumatized, but Chloe smiled and happily stood to abuse the akuma’s power to make them miserable.

Nino looked to Adrien and Lila. “I’m sorry. I know you two are friends with her but Chloe is a liability.”

Adrien: no, you’re right. At this point, Chloe is unremorseful and makes everyone else miserable enough to invite an akuma again. She needs to leave

Lila knows when to pick her fights, and with everyone but her intent on sending Chloe away, it would be a waste of breath. “I agree. I did think Chloe could change slowly over time but that isn’t what Ladybug needs.”

Marinette eyes Lila suspiciously.

Mylene: and how are we supposed to get rid of Chloe? Her dad’s the mayor. And even if we could convince Chloe to move to New York, he would get akumatized because he actually wants the bully around

Marinette: we have to convince the mayor it’s for Chloe’s own good to leave Paris.

Zoe: we have another obstacle, my mother. She doesn’t care that Chloe’s a bully. In fact, she’s proud of her.

Marinette: but knowing her, I am very certain she would care if Chloe makes her look ridiculous.

Nathaniel: as in all her total defeats?

Marinette: precisely.

Lila does warn Chloe that the class will try to talk to her parents about sending her away

Chloe: what a ridiculous idea, utterly ridiculous! Nobody can just walk up to my parents, not even Adrikins. And I always make sure that loser Zoe never even breathes in the same air as us

What Chloe refuses to acknowledge is that her father does like Zoe and does in fact visit his stepdaughter so she isn’t totally alone in the hotel

Andre wasn’t happy with Zoe’s suggestion that Chloe leave Paris even if he admits he empathises with her on how they can both relax when Chloe isn’t around. As a result of their conversation, he tries to invite Zoe to join them for dinner but Chloe shuts him down. Audrey doesn’t bother to raise her head.

Andre feels more sympathetic to Zoe’s suggestion.

Also, Chloe has underestimated her classmates’ again.

While Nino audibly plans to stalk Audrey and make her listen to their idea, Marinette tells Alya in secret that they can just make all the videos of Chloe’s scandals and defeat viral with Max and Markov’s help. She didn’t want to mention this in front of Lila because of how close she is to Chloe.

Skeptical, Alya has to admit Marinette has a point there. Markov and Max easily hack the internet.

Said videos interest Style Queen’s PR team and suddenly she is furious at her daughter for being such a loser. This is hurting both of her parents’ careers.

Chloe: you can’t believe the Internet mother! Those losers just want to kick me out of Paris! Don’t let them win!

Audrey: and let you stay and continue to humiliate the Bourgeois name? Don’t be ridiculous Claudette!

Chloe is angry to invite an akuma. Except Ladybug happened to be around as if she expected one.

Audrey drags Chloe to New York to teach her how to be a winner!

Andre was sad at their departure but Zoe comforts him.

Lila still keeps in touch with Chloe. Her influence over the mayor is still be useful.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #deflagration #why on earth they tolerate Chloe is beyond me

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imsparky2002 · 2 years ago

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Reverser - Rewriting Fountain Scene

(Nathaniel walks to the fountain, and when he sees Marc, he’s more confused instead of angry. He also thinks that Marinette is simply a huge fan of Ladybug, instead of believing it to be Marinette’s diary.)

Nathaniel: Marc? What are you doing here?

Marc: Huh?

(Nathaniel’s eyes widen as he realizes what’s going on.)

Nathaniel: Wait... is this yours?

Marc: Y-yes, it’s mine, didn’t Marinette tell you?

Nathaniel: What are you talking abou-

(He turns to see Marinette filming him. Instead of getting angry, he groans and just rolls his eyes before turning back to Marc.)

Nathaniel: Please tell me what’s going on here.

Marc: N-nothing! I just... just wanted to make a comic with you, that’s all.

(Nathaniel can tell he’s not lying, and just sighs again.)

Nathaniel: Well based on what’s in this diary, that’s not what’s going on. Marc, are you in love with me?

(Marc blushes and can’t even make out a response. Marinette decides to enter the conversation.)

Marinette: I was just trying to help you guys get together. Marc was too nervous to say anything, so I-

Nathaniel: Decided to play with my feelings by letting me think you actually loved me? Yeah, what a wingman.

Marc: It’s not her fault, I should’ve-

Nathaniel: It is, Marc! I’m not mad at you, ok? I’m mad that Marinette toyed with my feelings, knowing that I loved her. Or at least, I used to love her.

(Marinette can hardly speak, as Nathaniel hands back the notebook to Marc.)

Nathaniel: Look, I think you’re a cute guy, and I’d like to go out with you sometime, but you gotta be honest with me. When you said my art was great, was it genuine, or did you only think it was good because you loved me?

(As Marc hesitates, Nathaniel gives a sad sigh and gets up.)

Nathaniel: I need some time alone, Marc. I’m sorry

(He quietly walks away, as Marc begins to sob. Marinette can only look on in shame. Then the Akuma comes and we all know what happens next...)

So what do you think? I decided to make Nath less of an asshole, so that you root for him and Marc to get together in the end. I was inspired by some of the Rainbow fics by @artzychic27

#nathaniel kurtzberg #nathaniel #marc anciel #marc #marinette dupain cheng #marinette #ladybug #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #mlb #rewrite #reverser #nathmarc #nathaniel x marc #marcaniel

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little-peril-stories · 1 year ago

Text

The Queen of Lies: Retribution and Regret

Story Intro | Contents [Warnings] | Mood Board | Vibey Song Lyrics | Ao3

Contents: abusive relationship, gaslighting-adjacent emotional manipulation, trapped in a locked room, lady whump

Thanks @clairelsonao3 for inspiring me to turn to Breanna's literary society book for this chapter following your use of Yeats' "When You Are Old" in GSNBTR. 💕

Of course, I'd also be remiss not to also mention Nathaniel Hawthorne and thank him for the lovely prose in The Scarlet Letter. Thanks, Nate.

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Word count: 2300 || Approx reading time: 10 mins

Retribution and Regret

Teaser: Baden’s voice, too, haunted her every thought. Her every breath. What were you thinking? Sneaking around like that? For him? For a bastard thief? For one of those Iustitia aecum crooks? Are you trying to humiliate me? Make me the laughingstock of the entire constabulary?

Breanna stared at the ceiling.

Breanna stared at the ceiling and watched nothing happen.

Breanna stared at the ceiling and watched nothing happen, even as the empty, frigid cavern of her bedroom wobbled and spun.

Don’t, Curtis, for the love of god, please don’t let him—

I’m sorry I lied, I really did just want to do something kind—something good—

Please, he’s going to be so angry no matter what, don’t let him kill that boy, he didn’t do anything—

A tear welled in her eye, burning her skin when it grew too heavy and slid down her cheek.

It was my fault, please, I swear—

Rife with hurt and fury, Curt’s voice rang in her head. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?

Baden’s voice, too, haunted her every thought. Her every breath. What were you thinking? Sneaking around like that? Deceiving Lenton? Telling ridiculous lies? For him? For a bastard thief? For one of those Iustitia aecum crooks? Are you trying to humiliate me? Make me the laughingstock of the entire constabulary?

I’m sorry, she’d gasped, again and again and again.

I never expected this from you, Baden had said. Have you taken complete leave of your senses?

I’m sorry.

You’re sorry? You have no idea how sorry you are. But you will.

She had expected what came first, had held her breath and closed her eyes and pushed herself through until it was done.

The soft words of her mother often came to her in such moments—the gentle but fragmented counsel that had helped Cecilia Cooper through her own marriage to Silas Cooper, a bitter man prone to temper and partial to drink. Stay with me, my love, she had whispered so often, and I will keep you safe. A mostly empty promise, untrue but well-meant; Breanna had known even then that her mother had tried her best.

Let’s practice some sums, she would sometimes say, smoothing away her daughter’s tear-damp locks, watching the door with a frantic eye in case the handle began to turn.

Twice two is four. Twice four is eight. Twice eight is sixteen. Twice sixteen…

Or perhaps, Sing me a song. Sometimes, Shall we read together? Or, We’ll play a recitation game. Can you tell me a poem? Quietest one wins.

Some of the poems, Breanna still clung to. O Rose! who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet, but pale, and hard, and dry, as stubble-wheat. Kept seven years in a drawer —thy titles shame thee…

She had not expected what came after Baden’s furious tirade—had not expected his rage to be yet unspent, or that he should become a jailer not only to criminals, but to her as well.

You will stay in there, he had said, and she’d been too slow, too stupid to realize what was happening until the bedroom door slammed and the key scraped in the lock. Until you learn your lesson. Until you’ve had some time to remember who you’re married to. Who you belong to.

She had screamed then, hurling herself against the door despite the way her body screeched in pain, despite the rawness of her throat, despite how her weak, pathetic limbs could not budge the heavy wood.

Did you kill him?

She had choked out the words, still sobbing, on the floor now. She’d told herself it was her conscience that wanted to know so desperately.

Silence had answered her question, and she’d tried again. What did you do to him?

More empty air, devoid of sound and of pity.

Please, Baden. He didn’t hurt me. He didn’t.

A long, hissing breath from the other side of the door.

If I ever hear you mention the thief again, Breanna Hatchett—ever again—you will regret it until the end of your days. Do I make myself clear?

It had been her turn to respond with silence, until a fist smashing against the wall made her cry out.

Answer me.

Yes.

Now Breanna stared at the ceiling.

Wishing she had made different choices.

Wishing she had been wise enough to see this coming.

Mrs. Dennison had obviously been instructed not to open the door. Breanna had considered, for a while, setting fire to the room, just to see if the housekeeper would let her out then. To see if she was more loyal to her or to Baden. Fear had stayed her hand in case it was the latter—in case she ended up burning to death on her own self-built pyre.

How many hours had passed since the door had been locked, Breanna could no longer tell. She suspected it felt longer than it truly was, and she reprimanded herself for not paying more attention to how the light had changed. But when she tried to recall the path of the sun across the sky, to ascertain whether one night or two or five had passed, she found she could not remember.

The scrape of a key in the lock woke her from a hazy, dream-filled sleep.

“Breanna.”

He was back.

It was too late to turn around, to turn her back on him now. She was already facing the door. His grey eyes bored into hers, and her courage failed her. She looked away.

Baden closed the door behind him, the key already hidden away in his pocket, and approached.

“You are angry,” he said.

Was she? It was impossible to tell what she was feeling anymore.

“You made a terrible decision and a foolish mistake.” He sat down next to her, his arm scraping against hers.

“I know.”

“You made a complete mockery of me. My position. My authority.”

“I know.”

She kept her eyes downcast, counting specks of dust between the floorboards. He took her chin in his hand and directed her gaze toward him. “You could have been seriously hurt. Killed.”

“I didn’t think—”

“No,” Baden said. “You didn’t. That much is obvious.”

Although Breanna had not wept in hours now, a sob burst out of her again.

“Stop that,” he said. His grip tightened. “Enough tears.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Was she sorry? Again, it was difficult to discern exactly what she felt. All she knew was that it twisted her insides and filled her mind with fog.

“Perhaps you are,” Baden said. “Perhaps I believe you. But I confess…I cannot even begin to fathom what you thought to accomplish with your folly.”

“I…” His eyes were so cold and so grey, and he was so angry, and he was still holding her chin.

“I ask again. Why were you in there? What in god’s name were you doing?”

So tight. “I thought I’d… I just wanted to…” Too tight. “I don’t know.”

“Hmm.” Finally, Baden let go. He passed a hand over his face, sighing—a motion that might have been boyish were it performed by someone else. “I cannot have a wife who doesn’t think before she acts, Breanna. Who does impetuous things and cannot explain why.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry. It won’t—”

He cut her off, gesturing around the room. “You understand, then, why this is needed. It’s for your own good. You may remain here and reflect on your choices. What you’ve learned. How you will conduct yourself in the future.”

“No,” she said, reaching for his hands. “I—I’m really—Baden, truly, you don’t have to leave me in here, I’ll—”

He took her hands in his, but the grip was like iron. “Do not argue with me, Breanna.”

She slid to the floor when the lock clicked, too exhausted to cry.

Voices floated through the walls. “When will the punishment be ended, Mr. Hatchett?”

Baden’s voice was almost too low to hear. Breanna inched closer to the door, straining. “When I say it is.”

“If it’s not too bold to ask, sir…”

Their footsteps faded, and Breanna curled into herself. How stupid she had been to believe that she could do something new—something good and exciting. Brave and bold. What nonsense—what madness. It had always been this way. It always would.

***

It was a shock when Mrs. Dennison entered.

“I’m not to let you out,” she said quickly. “Before you ask.”

“I know,” Breanna said. She lay on the bed, a dent long carved into her pillow. She could not bring herself to care that she was only half-dressed. So what if the housekeeper saw her wrinkled underclothes, the bare skin of her shoulder, the unkept bird’s nest of her hair? What did it matter?

Mrs. Dennison laid a tray of food next to her. The dull thud of wood against wood seemed far too loud for the gentle action that caused it. Wincing, Breanna closed her eyes tight.

“I asked him.”

Breanna did not raise her head but opened her eyes, directing her gaze upwards. “Asked him what?”

“What happened,” said Mrs. Dennison. “To that man you were help—the man you were visiting.” There was a snick of disapproval to her voice—unspoken and buried, but there. “You wanted to know.”

Breanna sat up. “You did? Why? What—” Her voice splintered. “What did he say?”

“He’s alive,” Mrs. Dennison said. “All the constable would say, though, is that he was punished. For hurting you.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” Breanna whispered. The room blurred before her, turning her housekeeper’s face into naught but watercolour swirls and brushstrokes. “He—he didn’t hurt me.”

No, it was not the thief who had hurt her.

Ice crystallized in Breanna’s veins as this realization sank in fully. That boy had been punished, but he’d done nothing except lash out in confusion and anger, and he had done her no harm, nor had he left a single mark on her skin.

She watched the housekeeper make her way toward the door. “Thank you, Mrs. Dennison.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Hatchett. I hope you feel better soon.”

The ice in Breanna’s veins melted and turned to flame.

The solitude of her chamber became a blessing. Breanna, tears dried, made her preparations, trembling and yet fuelled with a fire she had not known could burn inside her so brightly.

Alice’s book was now finished, read beginning to end, many times wept over. Breanna combed through it, placing slices of silk ribbon amongst the pages and marking passages with lightly drawn lines. She could no longer borrow from the future to ease her present grief. Would Alice understand? Perhaps not. In fact, Breanna thought, few would.

But she wrapped it tidily when it was done, the brown-paper corners folded tightly over the beautiful leather binding, the string pulled taut and cut to just the right length, ending in a tight, charming bow.

“Please send this back to Mrs. Wright,” she said when Mrs. Dennison delivered breakfast, holding out the parcel. The housekeeper eyed it nervously. Breanna smiled, relaxed her limbs. “It’s merely the book she lent me. I’ve finished it now.”

Mrs. Dennison nodded, then lifted the book from Breanna’s outstretched hands. “Was it any good?”

“Enthralling,” said Breanna. “Eye-opening. Although I suppose there are some who wouldn’t like it.”

“What’s it about?”

“Sin,” Breanna said. “Hypocrisy. Judgment. Guilt.” She paused. “Such things as no one truly wishes to face.”

Mrs. Dennison’s eyes locked with Breanna’s, fluttering slowly, as if she meant to parse every word, searching for some hidden meaning.

There can be no power to disclose the secrets that may be buried with a human heart.

Breanna smiled wider.

“Perhaps we all could learn a thing or two,” said Mrs. Dennison.

“Oh, yes,” said Breanna. “I know I did.”

The housekeeper cleared her throat. “You’re…well, then? Feeling better?”

She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom.

“It’s been nice to have something to occupy my mind.” Breanna gestured vaguely to the book, hoping Mrs. Dennison wouldn’t look too closely at the pile of sewing behind her.

“You’re looking rather tired, though, if I may say so, Mrs. Hatchett. Haven’t you been sleeping?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Breanna said, “If I wasn’t, would it be a surprise?”

“No,” said Mrs. Dennison. “I suppose it wouldn’t. After what you’ve been through.” She peered around the room again, eyes roving from the book to Breanna’s face to the bed to the hearth. “Would you like me to sit with you awhile? Keep you company?”

Breanna shook her head. “I’m quite fine, Mrs. Dennison. But…” A lump grew in her throat. “Thank you.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Hatchett.” The housekeeper backed away from her, heading toward the door. “I think…”

“Yes?”

Mrs. Dennison cleared her throat again. “I think the constable will release you soon, dear.”

When an uninstructed multitude attempts to see with its eyes, it is exceedingly apt to be deceived.

Letting a forgery of a smile cross her face, Breanna said quietly, “How kind of him.”

When the door was closed and locked, when Mrs. Dennison had gone away, cleaning or conducting the cooking duties that were not usually hers, Breanna allowed herself a few moments of breathless quiet to ponder the choices she had made, and the ones she would make—the life she’d had, and the one she now chose. She suspected, after everything, after the tears she had shed that seemed so infantile now, she would never see a meeting of Mrs. Gage’s literary society. True, she had wanted so desperately to join, but it was a loss she was willing to bear. Did it matter anymore?

Perhaps not—perhaps it never had.

The last of the words she had marked for Alice swirled in her mind, etched in her memory as if they had always waited there for her to read. Scriptures of truth, prophecies of deliverance, and a call to action:

Do anything, save to lie down and die!

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Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!)

@starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@gala1981

@pleasestaywithmedarling

#lps the queen of lies #whump #whump story #whump writing #original writing #original story #original content #lady whump #guy whump #romance #angst #abusive relationship #emotional manipulation #trapped in a locked room

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three-milkz · 1 year ago

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Having so many heroes permanently seems like a horrible and very bad idea to me.

Why? Several reasons.

First, just imagine sixteen heroes going to fight an akuma when only the Ladynoir would be needed to do it. Maybe Ladybug has some idea to contact the hero they need for his power during a battle, but if not, then prepare for a 1 vs 16 fight.

Second, I don't trust more than half of the heroes.

They are literally not to be trusted, it's very clear with Lila. When Lila lies and Mari tries to expose her, Lila manages to put Marinette in a bad light and almost everyone turns against her.

How can you entrust magical jewels to people who didn't support you when a girl who just arrived tells everyone lies that they believe her and not a friend of YEARS (in the case of some).

I don't like Nino, he literally yelled at the cafeteria the identities of Alya and him. He create a plan to akumatize the father of his supposed BEST FRIEND. He spied on his girlfriend and because he believed she was cheating on him with Chat Noir. (In Chameleon he told Marinette that peeping was wrong.)

Kim is an idiot. Ondine, break up with him and come with me.

I don't like Ivan as a character, he is Mylene's boyfriend and that's it.

Mylene has a bit more backstory, but she still strikes me as a boring character.

Max, to be supposedly one of the most intelligent characters, he believed Lila that a napkin was going to gouge out his eye. Bro, how do you trust that?

Rose is too naive, anyone would manipulate her in two seconds. Sorry.

Sadly, Marc, Nathaniel, and Sabrina don't have a chapter of their own to explore more than they are capable of and whether or not, to me, they deserve to have a Miraculous permanently.

Literally almost everyone makes me mad.

Of all the permanent holders, the only one who deserved to keep his miraculous was Luka.

I love Alix from the future, so little Alix will become the same and she is a big consolation.

I like Kagami, but she did NOT have the right to tell Felix about Marinette's identity.

Alya proved to be trustworthy, but she does things that make me angry when it comes to Nino, at least she keep the secret that was Scarabella and I think it's more or less enough to keep her miraculous.

There's no way Felix will drop the peacock miraculous, but it's a comfort to know that he didn't use it for anything bad, since it's a way to protect his safety, Adrien and Kagami's, but I'll wait for a conversation between him and Marinette in the next season apologizing for what he did (they never will, I know).

Zoe and Juleka are fine.

I know that the miraculous were given to their wearers permanently so that no one would steal them again, but I don't think it's right that they give magic jewels to people who used a miraculous once against a filler villain, who are unreliable and that they could betray Marinette with and without the mask.

There were different ways to protect the miraculous, maybe giving some to Adrien, others to Luka and others that Marinette keeps or I don't know, any other better idea.

Also, you have to remember that Cerise, Lila or whatever her name is, has the identities of various holders and even if Marinette doesn't know it, she will find out at some point.

Someone is going to betray Marinette, we all know it.

So no, I hate most of the characters and I don't think they permanently deserve Miraculous.

Oh, and we won't be able to see more unifications either...

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azurechicken · 1 year ago

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It always gets me how Justice did not change at all, like, he is not corrupted at all. It makes everything more tragic than it already is. The only thing that changed was his perception, which of course, naturally came due to the change of hosts. I'm mostly taking Awakening Justice into account and how he acts because that is where we can carefully observe him by himself, without Anders' influence on the matter. And his influence is everything on the point I am trying to make.

When we first meet Justice, he is fulfilling his nature of bringing justice to the people he thinks that need it. He is very outspoken about it, and is already ready to take action with or without Warden's help. For a supposedly peaceful spirit that Anders claims to have ruined with his anger, Justice is acting pretty angry here himself (This is not the only time either). This is one of the first things I want to point out that did not change much about the spirit. Justice was always fierce about his cause. However, what stands out to me in these scenes is when the witch calls him out on his idea of justice.

Justice, is that what you are calling it? What of their punishment, burning my house to the ground and with me in it?

Well, in this case, the witch is a demon and mocking Justice for funsies. But what she says actually gives a bit more insight about what kind of a spirit Justice is. The actions do not speak louder than intent to him, as long as it is within the lines he set for himself. In a way, he was always okay with a few… casualties in the name of justice. Even though it is as simple as burning down a house this time. Isn't violence for violence vengeance after all?

While we are on the topic of vengeance, let's not forget the way he is eager on avenging Kristoff, vowing to kill every darkspawn for his cause (I mean the way he literally calls it avenging is enough debate for some people but I want to continue). So how come wanting to take revenge on the offenders that wronged not only his host but many other people, is any different? How did this route did not take him to the road of vengeance but attacking the templars, who are also offenders that wronged his host and other people, is corrupting him?

The answer is of course, that it is not, it did not. There is no difference between those two for Justice, there is no difference between vengeance and justice. Punishing the ones who deserve it is all there is. There is no gray area for spirits the way there is in the mortal world, and we see this clearly in the way he judges Velanna and Nathaniel for their crimes. Despite what I said about him seeing intent before action, now he cannot see beyond their wrongs. This simply shows that if the intent is as clear as violence for violence, he understands. But he does not understand the gray area of Velanna mistaking the innocents as guilty, or Nathaniel taking back what used to be already his.

There might be none for Justice, but there is a difference between darkspawn and templars for mortals. For one, darkspawn are generally mindless, and has no moral compass for us to judge. Whereas templars are just people with different ideals about life, to put it kindly at least. (Which is worse, being a mindless cruel monster, or having the mind and morals to choose to be something else but going for being one anyway? Lol another discussion for another time). Templars are the gray area that Justice lacks the understanding of. When he vows to kill every templar like he did with the darkspawn, he does not suddenly turn into a demon, he is simply punishing the ones that were doing wrong, as he does.

From here we can say that spirits' judgments and mortal's don't exactly match up. Though, there is one idea that seems to match better than others, and that is corruption. As far as we learn from Justice, spirits do not know about corruption any better than we do. Spirit do bad, spirit go bad, right? So, when Justice starts to feel things that are associated with demons, such as envy, he starts to fear corruption. He says he does not want to learn how a demon feels, but he also states that he does see the wishful thinking of a demon wanting to cross the Veil for this world. He is conflicted at best about the whole thing. Still, he does not consider himself corrupted regardless. I think that the reason behind that is simply the fact that generally, the Warden can ease his worries when Justice confides in them. And that is another thing that says a bit about him. He seems to accept the lack of understanding he has in the world, and chooses to listen to someone who does. Though, not just a random anybody, someone he deemed just.

So, let's see. A fade spirit with identity issues and an anxious spirit healer walks into a bar…

When they merged and Justice accepted Anders' cause for himself, and when they went all crazy on the Templars, Anders was scared. He feared the worst immediately because he is taught the worst about possession. He knew that Justice was angry because of him and his ideals about mages. So he blamed himself, called it a corruption he caused. And as I mentioned, Justice is accepting of the fact that he has a lack of understanding of some things. Plus, he was already scared of corruption. So, when Anders, who is an educated mage about possessions and corruption claims that he is slowly corrupting the spirit, they held onto it.

Everyone in their life from this point on, do nothing but egg them on about it, on top of it all. They might not corrupt each other, but everyone else does by pushing them the idea that they are now an abomination. Anders starts to fear the nonexistent corruption more, and Justice is confusing the inability to just wipe all the bad out with sloth. We are talking about a being who comes from the Fade, which can be bent at will and a place of immediate action. This works well in Awakening because we are already fighting darkspawn nonstop, and we are in the middle of a war. But in Kirkwall? Everything requires planning and suspended ideals. Templars bring injustice everywhere they go, yet there is not much they can do. After many years of being held back, it is no wonder Justice is surfacing more and more, itching to fulfill his purpose. Because he was always outspoken, angry at the injustice in the world and eager to bring justice. He did not change, but Anders' morals and his' just did not align the way they thought it would. They forgot that in Justice, there was always a part that was vengeance.

At the end, Justice was one of the most stable parts of Anders' story. He couldn't count his vow in Awakening complete without reaching the root of the problem, which was the broodmother. And he could not do so in Kirkwall without getting rid of the Chantry. Because chantry is the root of the Templars, and being a bystander while you can help solve everything easily is unjust all the same.

Anders and Justice had the same cause, different morality and they were just confused because they didn't know any better.

#going through awakening again made me so annoyinnnng i cant stop thinking about justice #listen i have so much more to say #justice didnt become a corrupted spirit when he went on a vengeance run on the darkspawn #and he didnt become a demon when he went on another vengeance run on templars #but once people were included they became confused #and this kinda goes to show that spirits' morality is all about their awareness of a wrong-doing imo #spirits' idea of doing something “bad” could mean something totally different like they need to be held a different judgment on the matter #demons could be just confused beings with too much feelings they couldn't understand so they became them #if they embody their name as much as spirits do there is nothing they can do about it #they cannot simply be bad because the emotion is not the bad part about such things they are the natural part #the bad part of negative emotions are the fact that they cause actions that we mortals would count as bad #at one point what of the nightmare demon eating away the fears we would be glad to be rid of is so bad?#and justice going as far as a boom for his virtue isnt something we could judge him bad for its just his nature #y'know? does that make sense?#they were right to blow shit up tho lol #im sleep deprived #i wrote this for myself but u can also have it lol #justice #anders #justice positive #anders positive #dragon age #dragon age awakening #me own

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nathaniel-underwood-is-an-intj · 5 months ago

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Post Ptolemy's Gate ramble

So I just finished Ptolemy's Gate, thoughts are a bit all over the place and aside from mentioning the obvious I thought I'd dump some thoughts here.

Piper's apathy certainly shocked me. I know she's stressed running the council and she's got loads of organisation to do but oof she sure did come across as cold in her conversation with Kitty. Kitty has that kind of apathetic resignation of grief but it really felt like Piper had already put it behind her despite it only being two days before. Her boss that she worked for died horribly to save them all and she didn't even seem to share a quiet moment of grief with Kitty idk it just felt a little brutal 😅 I had an impression of her being really sweet so I was a bit taken aback.

One thing that really stood out to me was Nathaniel's apathy to the situation, I found it really interesting. I guess something could be said about it being the magician in him.

Nathaniel really has this duality to him, the obvious being Nat vs John Mandrake and of course Nat + Bartimaeus but in chapter 36 part ii something that caught my attention

'it was the feeling of consummate superiority, the delight of power weilded without peril. He danced beneath the night sky, smiting down his enemies.'

It already seems as if he's being elevated to something other- a martyr perhaps, except martyrs have causes and ideals, they do something because they have a strong belief in their justness. And Nathaniel:

'He felt aloof disconnected and alone. If his hatred for demons he had killed was dull and almost matter-of-fact, so was his sympathy for the people whose lives he saved.'

So he seems almost like an avenging angel, I love the religious imagery, especially because it seems to call back to Bartimaeus comparing his body to a holy mosque. But also divine rage is the driving force for an avenging angel and he's no longer even angry at the destruction caused.

'Pride spurred him on.' this almost makes him seem God-like?? His sole motivator is the pride of a deity, and I love that. But it's also just very true to him as a boy, pride spurred him on against Lovelace and against Duval and Whitwell.

When he's alone with Bartimaeus he's taken on this air of not being entirely human. He feels alone and solitary from everything including humaity. But when he rejoins Kitty, Piper and the rest of the magicians waiting for him he's reinvigorated - 'he felt a surge of joyful impatience - 'he would detroy Nouda, rescue the commoners and return to Kitty.' it seems as though he has to be surrounded by people to remind himself he's one of them. It could be seen as an effect of sharing a mind with Bartimaeus, but of course it could be Nathaniel's own human pride and his memories of being othered even as a child. Just gives the impression of this human / higher entity duality.

But also I partly got the impression that this hints to depression- I'm sure it's hardly out of the realm of possibility for Nat to have it. Though it's never stated I think several moments in the books make a good argument for it, including the above- just the numbness to everything. And I guess the sudden change in demeanor at 'surge of joyful impatience' can be read as hopefulness, but it reminded me of the saying that when people have decided to follow through on their s*icidal ideation they come across as happy and like a weight has been lifted from them. Nathaniel is impressively calm for someone who realises he's gravely injured. And while he can be seen as a martyr or hero for his final actions, the hollowness he felt at that moment gives it a more bitter edge.

I think it's made even more sad when compared to Anthony Lockwood, who has that same sense of pride - because he's trying to make his dead parents proud and because he's trying to hide the fact that he doesn't like himself very much. Nathaniel gives this same impression. And Lockwood at the end had reason to be proud, he uncovered a huge conspiracy, his agency became the most famous in London. And Nathaniel had reason to be proud; he's managing to wield the staff of his childhood hero, something he had dreamed of doing, he's had the bravery to unite with a spirit and he's going to take down the biggest threat to London.

But Lockwood gets something Nathaniel doesn't-

There's this subtle idea seen through Lucy's eyes that Lockwood's biggest achievement was fighting through his s*icidal ideation and discovering he has something to live for, even just seeing his friends again.

And Nathaniel just doesn't get that moment.

He sort of acknowledges that he doesn't have to be a powerful leader, that he doesn't need his colleagues approval, that he doesn't need to erase the fear the commoners have of him and other magicians, but without these things he doesn't know what to do with himself. He has no plan for the future, because even before he's injured the idea of a future doesn't seem to have much appeal to him. He already appears to have given up on trying to uncover who Nathaniel is, depite finally having the opportunity to. Like after everything- being beaten, the fear of his colleagues trying to harm him and burying himself in the John Mandrake persona to protect his sensitive side- he doesn't want to uncover the remnants of that boy because he's worried it'll be too difficult to put himself back together.

Or maybe he feels that he already has discovered who Nathaniel is, a deeply unhappy, hollow shell of a person, whose personality has been pulled in so many directions he no longer has a sense of self. He's been stripped back to the barest version of himself and found he doesn't even have the foundations upon which to rebuild himsef. Like discovering dry rot in your walls and you keep pulling and pulling bits of rotting wood away from the home until you've finally got it all, only to realise the house has come down around you- there's nothing left.

He doesn't get this moment where he works through his trauma, where he realises he has a support system, where he realises he's loved. I don't know if Nathaniel ever really knew what it felt like to be loved. I don't think he did. Ptolemy's death was awful and heartbreaking but his short life was filled with affection. And Lockwood realises people do care about him, depite being told that no one does. It hurts so much that Nat felt isolated and alone his whole life, right up to the last minute. Potential love confessions aside, Nathaniel never got a chance to sit and bathe in the warmness of affection. Like Bartimaeus tells him, it's about 'being not doing.' Nathaniel never got to understand the importance of just being, of simply existing as himself or of being happy. He constantly had to be working on the next goal, the next plan, because if he stops working he'll be forced to sit with his thoughts and realise how unhappy he is. And the thought of that is just too much to bear, it's so much easier to give in.

The ending gave the impression of being very romantic, while sad. Nathaniel gets to be remembered as a hero and never has to confront the consequences of his actions with wars in Europe and America that he had a direct role in. Acknowledging his role and dealing with fallout are two very different mountains to climb. And I think that idea of dying like a hero perfectly appeals to Nathaniel's prideful tendencies, and maybe he views it that way to hide the fact it's a convenient way out of his unhappiness and confronting what he's done. It's quite interesting to see that after he's been stripped back to nothing and can't figure out who or what he wants to be if he gets the chance, he still has that vanity and arrogance to him- despite not really being good character traits, they're so authentically Nathaniel, he's been that way right from the start and it's nice little peak of the real him at the end, being so humanly flawed.

#These always come out like I'm tryna b all edgy and poetic it's so CRINGE lmao I'm sorry #Nat just makes me feel things idk #some of this might be a bit contradictory but my thoughts r all over the place #Is Nat having depression a popular take?#I feel like it's always hinted at in discussions but never /said/ ya know?#<- like the book I guess but I'm one of those ppl that needs smthing to be SAID for it to be said #But also-- has Nat got a personality disorder?? Discuss...#Gimmie gimmie all your mental illness headcannons for the characters I'm a psychology nerd 😭😭#But also I NEED nay I HUNGER FOR more fan work of bartxnat with religious themes and symbolism 🙏🏻both fics and fanart plz 🙏🏻#Idk the idea of worship with those two is 🤌🏻🤌🏻#bartseq #bartimaeus sequence #bartimaeus trilogy #liveblogging

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synergysilhouette · 1 year ago

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Remaking Miraculous Ladybug (Season 1)

Oh, boy! Here I go again. Hello, all! I'm a Miraculous Ladybug fan, though my interest in the show has waned over the years due to it's writing. The film adaptation renewed interest for me, and it made me want to rewrite the series--similar to how I rewrote X-Men: Evolution (which I recommend you check out the posts for). Originally I was just gonna make a broad overview of the changes I'd make, but I decided to make it like XME and remake every episode...Yeah, I've got my work cut out for me. Some of these changes are influenced by fans' (not just me) opinions of the show while others are influenced by my own personal thoughts and opinions. As such, in this season, there's a lot of filler, so I'm actually removing some episodes that I don't feel add much to the overall show, possibly taking anything worthwhile and adding to it a different episode. I was gonna make this more PG-13, but I decided not to in the end. I hope you still enjoy it! Please forgive me if I forget/omit any important details due to a lapse in memory of translation changes, as I usually watch the English dub. Sorry in advance!

Ladybug & Cat Noir (Origins-Part 1)--In my remake, the way Marinette and Adrien get their Miraculous is similar to the film version instead of how the show does it, along with Adrien already being a student at the school. While Chat Noir isn't as reckless, he still keeps his light-heartedness and quips, often using his many skills as Adrien to help Ladybug with battling villains. I'd also want more equality for the cat and ladybug miraculous; in this case, if only the ladybug miraculous can purify an akuma, than only the cat miraculous can destroy the akumatized object. Sounds fair, right? Otherwise everything plays out the same. Along with this, I'd like to think their outfits are a bit more detailed; Chat Noir's black outfit is complimented with green designs, and his hair is the same color as Cat Walker's (to avoid suspicion), and Ladybug's hair has red streaks, with it later being joked about by Gabriel that she copied Nathalie.

2. Stoneheart (Origins-Part 2)--Gabriel is shown to be more sympathetic towards Adrien, explaining that he stopped Adrien's homeschooling as a result of Gabriel becoming emotionally detached following Emelie's death. The Ladyblog is more investigative, with Alya wanting to unmask Ladybug. It's revealed that Chloe bullied Ivan because he was nice to Sabrina, and Chloe fears Sabrina leaving her for "utterly ridiculous losers." It's also revealed that Sabrina is an Agreste fan herself (both of Gabriel and Adrien), and Chloe assumes she's brownnosing, but encourages it this time.

3. Stormy Weather--Abandons all stalkerish elements, and Chat Noir is the one to break the parasol with his cataclysm instead of using it on the billboard. I'd also probably put more depth on akumatizations from here on out so that only people with truly angry/sad/envious etc. emotions can be akumatized rather than simply saying to ignore/get rid of negative feelings. Perhaps Aurore had wanted to be a weather girl for a long time and the poll results were closer, causing her to be even more upset that she lost. Otherwise everything plays out the same.

4. The Evillustrator--Lady Wifi being in Marinette's dream is discarded, since production-wise, her episode occurs after this one. When Nathaniel is sent to the principal's office, Marinette realizes that despite sharing classes together for some time, she's just now noticing him. Sabrina, trying to emulate Chloe, jokes at how ironic it is, given that Nathaniel has a crush on her similar to Marinette's crush on Adrien. This makes Marinette feel guilty about not paying attention to Nathaniel, as well as losing hope that Adrien would see her as more than a friend. It's revealed by Sabrina that Chloe is actually good at schoolwork when she was younger, but when her mother left, so did her interests in academics, resulting in relying on Sabrina. Chloe begins to tell off Marinette and threatens to disown Sabrina if she doesn't do what Chloe tells her to, but Adrien overhears and gives Chloe a similar ultimatum of being nicer or he'd stop being friends with her. Sabrina later begs him not to do that, and he feels guilty that he phrased it like he was trying to control her like she controls Sabrina. The Sabrina and Chloe argument doesn't happen here, with Marinette and Chloe arguing instead while Sabrina does all the work, making Marinette feel guilty about putting her own feelings before the group's. It's also revealed that part of the reason Chloe made fun of Nathaniel was because she was worried Nathaniel would be seen as Ladybug's #1 fan instead of her if she saw his work. Chat Noir doesn't flirt with Marinette, acting like Adrien. The Evillustrator more compassionate with Marinette. As the Evillustrator and Chat Noir battle, Marinette wonders if she could be akumatized from unrequited love. When he deakumatizes, Marinette decides that combined with their shared artistic talents and inspired by his passion, asks Nathaniel if he wants to go out sometime, to which he accepts. When Adrien tries to ask Marinette about her time with Chat Noir, she states that he was polite, but when she tells him the reason she's going on a date with Nathaniel, Adrien decides that he needs to be more passionate to win Ladybug's heart.

5. Lady Wifi--Alya doesn't really believe that Chloe is Ladybug, instead suspecting Nathalie (or surmising that she's Nathalie's daughter), but believes that Chloe may be the link to finding out who Ladybug is, given that Chloe upsets enough people that they become akumatized and want to find her, resulting in protection from Ladybug and Chat Noir. While stalking Chloe for any signs of akuma-inducing events, she gets caught and is still suspended. Chloe, once again threatened by another "Ladybug superfan," manipulates Alya into converting her curiosity of Ladybug into frustration, blaming her for getting suspended, making Alya want to expose her. Once akumatized, she goes after Chloe anyway, stating that she pretty much has the heroes on speedial at this point (as well as Lady WiFi's), and embarasses her and Sabrina dressing up as Ladybug and Chat Noir. Most of the episode plays out the same, though Chat Noir narrowly prevents Alya from finding out Ladybug's identity, telling her that Ladybug is someone who doesn't go to the school. Deciding to trust him, Alya decides to turn her attention away from school suspects, and Marinette vows to tell her someday. Everything else is the same.

6. Princess Fragrance--Marinette has to turn down a date with Nathaniel for Tikki instead of Adrien in this version. Sabrina reads Rose's note, stating that she has a crush of her own and wants to know how to tell them, then destroys it. Chloe doesn't try to flirt with Ali, being more interested in Adrien, but tries to steer Sabrina his way, reasoning that anyone she crushed on wouldn't be good enough for her (Chloe), and Ali was a good way to trade up. Nathaniel tries to reason with Princess Fragrance, saying that what she's doing was the wrong way to get someone to want to be with her, but she ignores him, saying that it worked out for him in the end. Due to Chat Noir's cat sensitivity when it comes to smell, he grows irritated by the fragrance rather than brainwashed by it, helping Ladybug defeat Princess Fragrance. Ali is rattled by Rose's akumatization, and she apologizes for trying to make him love her, and he says that they can just be friends for now.

7. Dark Cupid--Includes the flashback from "Derision," and any Adrien-related romance subplot is removed since Marinette is with Nathaniel. Kim tells Chloe that he's had a crush on her since their bonded over "pranking" Marinette, which inspires Chloe to have him prank Alya, still not over the events of "Lady WiFi." Chloe inquires about who Sabrina's crush is, but she states that Chloe wouldn't be able to guess. Kim becomes akumatized after Alya avoids his prank and Chloe rejects him, giving him a vendetta against Alya. Pretty much everything else is the same.

8. Pixelator--Luka is formally introduced, and it's shown that he and Juleka (who ARE twins) are Jagged Stone's children. Pixelator instead vows to use them to get revenge on Jagged Stone. The sunglasses subplot and the hat designing contest from "Mr. Pigeon" are conflated here, given that I'm not a fan of MP, with Marinette giving Jagged Stone a whole new look, which takes inspiration from Pixelator. Luka and Adrien bond as he distracts Chloe long enough to let him transform (which Luka sees). At the concert, Kitty Section makes their debut appearance, though the costumes are more professional and Rose and Ivan are not part of the group. It's also noted that Nathaniel was asked to do the concept art for Jagged Stone's next album.

9. The Bubbler--Nathaniel and Marinette team up to make a poster of Adrien and his friends (signed by all of them), along with Marinette's scarf. While Chloe forgets a gift for Adrien, Sabrina gives one to him from both of them. Nino and Chloe are permitted to go to Adrien's mansion, but after being rudely treated by Chloe and Adrien lashing out at him (following an upsetting conversation with Gabriel) and causing him to be akumatized. More emphasis is put on Adrien's few friends, especially since Nino is realizing how severe Adrien's situation is. Gabriel also doesn't take credit for the sweater, instead tailoring a custom outfit that happens to go with it. Elements of "Simon Says" also occur here to focus on Adrien and Gabriel's dynamic.

10. Rogercop--It plays out essentially the same, except giving more focus to Sabrina as she becomes angry with Chloe for trying to get her fired, though Chloe lies and claims the bracelet she was missing was one that Sabrina gave her and that it meant a lot to her. More hints to Sabrina's mystery crush is dropped, though not explicitly stated. Some of Roger's akumatization is also due to Alya being critical of the officers being unable to defend the city against akumatized villains, thus creating a more stressful environment that could lead to more akumatizations.

11. Gamer--Almost identical, though Chloe is the cause of Max's akumatization rather than Marinette, given that Marinette is with Nathaniel, and Nino reveals his crush on Alya, Luka is also revealed to be a good gamer, taking Chloe's place.

12. The Puppeteer--plays out the same.

13. Reflekta--plays out mostly the same, but puts more emphasis on Luka and Juleka's sibling relationship and hints at a romance between Juleka and Rose.

14. Antibug--It's revealed that Sabrina had a crush on Adrien as well, and Chloe angrily humiliates her in front of the whole school, as well as denouncing their friendship making her wish she was invisible. Most of this plays out the same, with possibly some references to self-harm, making Chloe regret her cruelty towards Sabrina, and Adrien secretly gives her a kiss on the cheek, telling her that he hopes she doesn't disappear (though stating that he didn't see her as anything more than a friend).

15. Kung Food--It's explained that Marinette knows conversational Mandarin, but Adrien helps her with any complexities, and more emphasis is put on her Chinese heritage and history rather than it being done so quickly. Chloe is genuinely ignorant of Asian cultures, something Adrien corrects her on and she implements, as she does personal insults, not broad, racially insensitive ones. Here, Nathaniel and Marinette share the soup with her uncle, with Nathaniel happy to learn more about his girlfriend's ancestors' culture. Everything else is the same.

16. Volpina--It's revealed that the fox miraculous Lila has is the real deal, albeit stolen, and she uses these powers to make her lies and disguises legitimate. Adrien also suspects his father of being a superhero fan and investigates the Miraculous book. Ladybug flies off the handle at Lila, this time for making unflattering lies about Ladybug. She also uses her powers to make it seem as though Adrien and Marinette have been dating behind Nathaniel's back, causing them to break up (as Marinette can't disprove Lila's illusion), resulting in them having to defeat the Illustrator as well. In the end, Lila despises Ladybug and Nathaniel despises Marinette. Lila also learns of Adrien's warning to Chloe in "Evillustrator," and since she hasn't adhered to it, makes an illusion of Adrien that severs his friendship with Chloe.

Lemme know what you thoughts! I may revise this before I do season 2.

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #chloe bourgeois #hawk moth #volpina

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