#and then some things happened in my personal life to drift me away from miraculous

[whyismangososour]

what the FUCK do you we mean we get more agreste family lore

[moremaybank]

Hey love, I hope you're doing well. Is it okay if you do 17 with JJ Maybank?

I really love your work

- 🐈‍⬛

"what's wrong? why'd you stop?" / "nothing's wrong. i just wanted to take a second to admire how beautiful you are."

warnings 18+, protected sex (did i really just write that?), a mix of soft and rough!jj, language, i think that's it?? this warning feels really short

author's note thank you my love!

prompt list (requests closed) / jj masterlist

"Are you sure about this?"

Your eyes search JJ's, and you can see the doubt behind them. Doubt that you didn't want him as bad as he wanted you. And then you saw the guilt. Guilt from laying his eyes on his best friend, his personal definition of forbidden fruit.

The thing is, JJ doesn't realize that you've been dreaming of being in his arms since you were a kid. To run your hands through his sea salt-coated hair, kiss his pink lips, and tell him you love him. And, if you're lucky, hear him say he loves you too.

"Absolutely. I've wanted this forever, J," you respond. The uncertainty fails to wash away from his features, and you bring a hand up to his face. Your thumb grazes over his cheek as you look deep into his eyes. "I promise."

Finally, finally, a grin spreads across JJ's face. He wastes no time, surging forward and kissing you as if he's dying, and your lips hold the magical potion that can save his life.

It all happens so quickly. Your clothes are shed. Your hands are in each other's hair and all over each other's skin. Your lips collide over and over in a fit of passion. The kisses are made with love and lust in equal measure as you two finally partake in what your dreams are made of.

JJ's lips leave bruising kisses up and down your body, marking you all over and finally claiming you as his. When he makes it back up to your breathtaking face, he captures your lips in another harsh kiss. His tongue dances with yours, but you catch him off-guard, wanting to try your hand at asserting some kind of dominance. You suck on his tongue, pulling back before eagerly chasing his lips once more. He lets you and comes back time times harder than the last.

That is, until he abruptly pulls away.

"What's wrong? Why'd you stop?" You ask, your brows furrowed with concern as you try to catch your breath.

JJ's hand smoothes the hair away from your face before taking hold of your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His eyes trail over your entire frame, naked and beautiful and begging to be touched, and he gives you a tooth-achingly-sweet smile.

"Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to take a second to admire how beautiful you are."

The words roll off his tongue with ease as if it's a phrase he's used to saying, and your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

JJ, the most gorgeous boy you've ever known, thinks you're beautiful. You had always considered the thought to be impossible. Miraculous at best, and that wasn't because you doubted your beauty. It was because it never crossed your mind that he had even noticed. It's incredibly corny, but that proves that miracles do happen.

"Get over here and kiss me."

He indulges you, towering over your frame from his spot on the bed and pressing his lips to yours. It's slow and savoury, a full one-eighty from the fast-paced kisses he offered earlier. You moan against his lips and break away.

"Closer, JJ."

"I'm right here, baby," he breathes, nuzzling his nose against your jaw as he etches more kisses into your skin.

"No," you breathe, "closer."

Your legs wrap around his torso, and your heels push his lower half closer to yours. His cock grazes against your core, and your walls clench in anticipation of his future intrusion.

You see the hint of mischief in JJ's gaze as he catches your drift. He grants you one last peck, his hand circling his length. He guides the tip to your dripping entrance and probes you slightly. His eyes move back up to your face as he pushes his way in, and he gets lost in the way your face contorts when he does.

Your hands slide up his arms, looping around the back of his neck for support as he slides completely into you. A trembling mewl escapes your lips at how deliciously he stretches you out.

"So big, J," you whine.

"I know, baby. But you're taking me so well. You know how pretty you look with me inside you?" JJ questions. His hand glides up your thigh and finds your clit, starting to massage it. His hips begin to move and you throw your head back as he ruts into you with a perfect tenderness.

It's perfect. He's perfect, and you decide he should never be anywhere except right here, drowning in you.

"You don't have to hold back, JJ," you speak. "Give in. Fuck me the way you want to."

"No," he says, brushing your statement off, "you deserve this side of me. I wanna do this right."

"I want all of you, J. Don't hold back."

He gives you a once-over, and he commands your wish when he's sure this is what you want. He presses down on the back of one of your thighs and spreads you out to give him more space. His perfect cock ruts into you sharply, knocking the wind out of you.

You don't regret your request for a second because this is the JJ you wanted. Of course, you love his sweet and considerate side, but you hoped to see the side that didn't care what he took from people. The rough, unapologetic attitude that was just so him.

"Fuck, where have you been all my life? This pussy is perfect, so fucking wet for me," he praises.

"Your cock is perfect too, J."

"Yeah?" He taunts. "You gonna be my good girl and cum for me, pretty girl? I know you want to."

You lean up onto your elbows, moaning into JJ's mouth as you capture his lips in a fiery kiss. Your cunt squeezes him harshly, a tell-tale sign that you're about to cum for him.

"Gonna cum. Make me cum, J. Please," you beg.

Your pleading eyes and tight grip on his cock are too much for him, and he snaps. He fucks you hard enough to send you over the edge and then some, unable to get enough of your soaking heat.

"So. Fucking. Good for me," he speaks, punctuating each word with a forceful thrust. He jerks inside you as he finishes on the last one, releasing into the condom.

JJ leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as relief washes over him.

"That was amazing," you grin.

"You're amazing. I've been waiting for this forever, and damn, was it worth it."

updated jj taglist (join here!): @pankowperfection @oncasette @hopesdadswife @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @sw34terw34ther @adoreyouusugar @rosie-cameron @f4ll-for-you @rafesdirtyslut @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @venomwh0re @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @pankhoeforlife @cecesrings @indigoreccs @laineywilsons @mvybanks

[chaoticcornchip]

Yandere Error404 x reader!

Requested by April_Gianttale on wattpad!

A/n - just letting you know reader, the pov of the writing is kinda random, some chapters will be in 1st pov, others in 2nd or 3rd, sometimes a mix. Just letting you know. And more times than not you are referred to as they/them, might change later as my brain be like no this is weird to read. But yeah. 

Image by Mokutree3 on tumblr

Error404 belongs to @vibeless15

TW- possessive behavior, kidnapping, swearing, murder, mentioned guilt trip/manipulation 

3rd POV

It was a warm, pleasant summer afternoon, a h/l h/c middle aged person hummed a small tune. A smile on their face as they took care of a few more files to finish up the day at work. Y/n's mind began to drift aimlessly as the excitement to head over to their friends place and watch the newest episodes of f/s grew more and more potent.

Finishing the last file up, y/n eagerly placed it on the stack of papers that, like this one, were all completed and ready to be moved over to get sent and checked y employees in one of the other buildings. Packing their things they stood up and turned and walked into someone, causing them to drop the papers they were carrying all over the floor. 

Y/n's face flushed in embarrassment "oh shit. Sorry I wasn't paying attention, lost in my own thoughts heheh, here let me pick these up," they laughed nervously as they gathered the fallen paper.

Standing up they smoothed the paper out before handing it back, "it's alright, accidents happen," responded a male voice.

That got y/ns immediate attention, miraculously out of all those who are still in the office, they just had to run into the one person they have a crush on here.

"Say your name was..... Y/n right?" He asked, taking his work back.

A small tinge of red crept onto y/ns face, 'wh- omg...he knows my name! Hold on keep calm y/n it isn't too big of a deal- OH WHO AM I KIDDING I AM NOT GOING TO STAY CALM FROM THIS'

(a/n- sorry if this is cringy or whatever I am out of ideas, also refer to your crush however you want I just used he/him to make this easier to write and read)

"Y-yep, heh that's me alright."

C/n gave a small smile, "well it's nice to see you, last time we met was at your... application meeting, I believe."

Y/n gave a nod "yep! It's nice to see you as well........." they shifted there eyes side to side and rugged on the collar of their f/c shirt, "say is it hot in here or is it just me?" Y/n stammered out, sweat building up slowly.

C/n stood there a little puzzled, "uh it feels fine to me, say you look a bit red- do you need anything- here I'll get you some water" he answered himself and walked off before the stunned y/n could speak.

'Greaaaaattttttt- wait- maybe I could snag a hangout or maybe even a da- no, no you just freaking talked to him get to know him first y/n.' They thought for a few seconds, 'oh hey! Maybe 404 could help with this and give me some advice! He is smart he could give me tips, right?'

Shortly after that the h/c male returned with a paper cup filled with water in his hand, "here, hope this helps, if there is anything else you need, let me know." He says handing them the cup. Taking the it y/n took a sip of the cold liquid and already felt their nerves relaxing and thus them calming down.

"Thanks." They murmured.

C/n gave a nod, "welp I will be seeing you later, have a good night" he said walking away, leaving y/n to think.

*time skip brought to you by tiny bred factory🍞 *

*time 6:40pm

Y/n stood at the doorstep of 404's house and rang the doorbell. Waiting a few moments they noticed that the skeleton monster must've planted some flora of various types, seeing there was more green foliage around his home, mixed with some flowers.

'Huh, I thought he said he didn't really care about plants or how his yard looked, as long as it met the neighborhood standards. Guess your rant about plant life got to him y/n heh,' they thought with a slight smirk.

Y/n let out a small huff as he still hasn't answered the door yet 'I swear to fuck, if he doesn't answer I am breaking this door down.' They began to ring the doorbell a few (hundred) more times, breaking the thing in the process.

Finally there was motion and it quickly followed with the door being opened, revealing an exhausted, dead inside 404.

"Why are you so loud, I was taking a nap." He groaned, letting the human in.

"Why? Didn't you know I was coming at 6:40?" They responded.

404 was silent for a moment, yes he did remember but originally he thought y/n was coming a bit later, and thus he believed he could at least get a bit of rest after having to manage Error all damn day. "Yeah, just drifted off I guess" he says as he begins to head to the kitchen, "want anything to drink?"

"Sure, a f/b would be nice" the human responded their gaze drifting around and looking at some of the items their friend has cluttered on shelves and walls.

"y/n could you get the tv ready?" He called out.

Rolling their eyes y/n headed to the living room, "I don't see why you didn't have it turned on and ready already, are you getting lazy without telling me."

"ABSOLUTELY NOT! WHERE DID YOU GET THAT FROM?!" He shouted, which was shortly followed by a bang and a muffled cuss.

Y/n covered their mouth in an attempt to hide their snicker, "oh nowhere just saying it to bother you."

After a bit 404 came back in with a f/b and a beer, he sat down on the couch next to y/n and passed the f/b over to them. After they both got comfortable 404 took the remote and started the show.

*skip cuz does it look like I am going to TRY and write a small show even in the background? No, no it does not.*

After like 40 minutes, the two finally reached the credits of the episode. 404 blinked once or twice before letting out a yawn and stretching his arms, "welp, that was disappointing." He says as he wrapped an arm around y/ns shoulder.

Y/n shrugged him off "yeah, but it was still a good episode." Y/n paused for a moment "Say 404, any chance you have uhm.... Any useful advice for dealing with your crush, like to hang around them and not be awkward?" They asked a bit hesitant.

The skeleton was a little bit stunned, not showing it he simply spoke, "no, not really, why? Who's the lucky person?"

"Just a coworker, who i haven't really gotten to know," y/n responded.

404 let out a small hum, "well I guess this isn't creative at all, but just be yourself ignoring what you humans usually say as "but what if they don't like who I am," if they don't like who you are, then that's their fucking problem. you shouldn't be wasting time trying to be what anyone wants you to be, become who you wanna be for yourself and others. Better live a life with the truth even if you don't like it than living in a life of falsehoods and lies."

Y/n listened to her friends words and thought deeper. They smiled "heh thanks 404 that actually helps a lot I guess," the replied.

404 shrugged "no problem, so what are we going to do now?"

*skip several weeks cuz I am lazy and don't wanna write more boring shat, deal with it*

It's been 3 weeks, y/n without appearing creepy or weird hung out and grew to know c/n, overall 404 was fine with it, no jealousy at all.... At least until the two started to get closer and y/n slowly began to spend more and more time with c/n instead of 404.

The skeleton has mostly been keeping it cool but the worry is thick in his mind, is he going to lose the only good thing he has? To some random human? As these questions and those similar repeated he began to have dreams about y/n leaving him or forgetting about him entirely. And that is where his paranoia led to him whenever y/n was around, he would find some excuse for them to stay.Whether it be about the weather, him needing "help" with something, ect. He even started going low as in guilt tripping.

But on the third week... when y/n finally introduced him to c/n. His jealousy sparked and turned into pure obsession, the obsession of keeping these two away from each other permanently . Time went on he tried intimidating his so-called competition, bribery, blackmail, anything else you name it. Amazing nothing worked it only got c/n to bond closer with 404's friend.

Y/n wasn't exactly oblivious, they notice 404s clinginess and how upset he has been lately, not to mention every fucking excuse he has for the human to stay. It utterly confused them, he was perfectly fine with it awhile ago, so what changed and what is with this new thing?

*done with overview thingy*

Y/n was at a park walking with c/n as the two chatted about random things that caused them both to laugh. Finally the two stopped and sat down on a bench and ate the ice cream they had gotten. There was awkward silence between the two, y/n was confused and a little worried, is something wrong with c/n too?

This deafening silence lasted for an eternity more before c/n spoke, "uhm, so I have been thinking y/n....."

They looked at him, "yes?" They asked worry building up in their head.

C/n was quiet for a moment, "I was wondering.... Would you go out with me?" He asked blushing a bit.

Y/n sat there astonished, "y-yeah of course!" They exclaimed. "When and where to?"

C/n thought "how about tonight at f/r? Would around 8 work?"

Y/n gave a nod and kissed c/n on the cheek, "it's a date."

Time went on the two left the park and went their separate ways, y/n was overflowing with joy and head over to 404s house, owing him a visit after not being there yesterday day.

*le skip*

Y/n knocked on the door, 404 shortly was there, "oh y/n, I didn't think you would be here, weren't you busy with him?" He said letting them in.

Y/n shrugged, "yeah but I felt bad about yesterday and so I wanted to stop by."

404 let out a skeptical 'hm'.

The skeleton couldn't help but notice that the human was a bit.... Cheerful, "what has you so happy?" He asked, growing a bit angry almost expecting it.

Y/n beamed "i got a date with c/n tonight at 8!" They exclaimed happily.

His soul dropped, a wave of terror and rage rushed over him, "that's......great" he forced out, grinding his teeth together, here it was. The moment he lost EVERYTHING the one good fucking thing he had to look for to. No he won't let this happen... y/n is HIS not some PATHETIC, weak human boy who just waltzed into existence.

As y/n headed to leave they got stopped in place by 404 who grabbed them "hey 404 what are you doing?!" They demanded.

The skeleton was silent and just swiftly wrapped his arm around y/n's soft, fleshy neck, tucking the joint of his elbow under the human's chin, his free hand then pushed the back of their head forward, cutting off the humans air. Y/n struggled and tried to get free with no prevail, 404 tightening his hold each time they fought, eventually their struggles weaken and he began to speak, "you wouldn't understand, but I am doing this for us. Everything will be fine y/n, it'll just be you and me." As the human started to lose consciousness they heard 404 hiss out, "and nothing else."

Once the skeleton was certain the human was out he let go and carefully laid y/n on the floor, he calmly blinked and looked at their peaceful form. 'I am doing the right thing, they're MINe and I will make sure they can't leave me E V E R' he thought picking them up and heading to the mainframe.

*8pm

C/n knocked on y/ns door, no response, the male has been there for a few minutes now and he was worried, there wasn't any sign y/n was home, pulling out his phone he dialed their number.

Ring....ring

C/n flinched at hearing the sound behind them, turning around they saw a dark figure, only visible aspect was two glowing blue eyes. "Who the hell" they growled.

The figure didn't respond except lifting up its hand revealing blue tipped fingers.

C/n couldn't even usher a breath before the thing lunged forward, grabbing the humans neck and squeezed tightly until there was a sickening crunch, and the male went limb.

Disgusted 404 tossed the corpse to the side and teleported away. Back into the mainframe where y/n was left, the human was conscious a long time ago, but that's alright. 404 isn't going to push anything, hell no, he's going to wait until the loneliness and emotional pressure of the void gets to them and they come to him. Begging for attention and escape and doing anything he wants.

A/n - and finished! Probably not the best but I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave requests reactions or constructive criticism!

(2431 words)

(minor changes and fixes: 9/13/2023 on quotev)

[miraculouscontent]

A Change of Heart (post-”Miraculous New York”)

"Kaalki, divide!"

Ladybug felt Kaalki's light wash over her, the kwami emerging and flying a small distance away. They were up on one of the rooftops in New York, overlooking an interview that was happening on the street.

Kaalki hummed in interest, taking the time to see the tall buildings. "What a grand city." Then, her gaze dropped down and she squinted, adding with distaste, "Quite crowded though."

"There's an interview going on right now. That's why. One of their supervillains was just taken down," Ladybug explained, placing her foot up on the edge of the building and peering down to look at the crowd.

"And, what precisely are we here for?" Kaalki asked, hovering near Ladybug's face to follow her gaze.

"Not what, but who. We’re here to see Eagle," Ladybug answered, pointing at the eagle-themed superheroine being interviewed. The crowd was enthusiastically cheering at just about every answer Eagle was giving, and Ladybug couldn't help smiling at the fact that the person she gave the miraculous to was still doing well.

As the interview came to an end, Eagle's eyes shifted from the interviewer to Ladybug, who had made sure to be where the red-and-black of her suit would stand out; she wasn't exactly the definition of "stealthy," and it worked to her advantage in this case.

Eagle jumped up to the nearest rooftop, then waited for the crowd to disperse before leaping over to where Ladybug was. "Hey, Ladybug! What are you doing here?" Her brows creased in seriousness, and she held her fists up like she was raring for a fight. "Did Hawk Moth come back to New York?"

Ladybug waved dismissively. "No, no, it's nothing like—"

"Pardon me," Kaalki said, making sure she was loud enough to be heard. She puffed her chest out haughtily and gestured to herself with a hoof. "I'm Kaalki, the kwami of migration. Pleased to meet you," she said, her tone forced as to imply that she didn't appreciate being ignored.

"Uh... hi," Eagle greeted flatly, then looked to Ladybug for an explanation.

"Sorry about her. She was my ride." Grabbing Eagle's wrist and leading her to the center of the rooftop, where they were less likely to be seen from the streets, she explained, "Anyway, I came here because I was hoping that I could get your help."

Eagle leaned to the side, curious. "My help? What for?"

"Well..." Ladybug hesitated. "This is going to sound like a weird request, but..."

—————

Eagle crossed her arms in thought, still seemingly absorbing the explanation. "You want me to use Liberation on you? To get rid of your—"

"—romantic attachments," Ladybug cut in stiffly, the word 'crush' and 'love' sounding extremely un-Ladybug-like. She blushed in embarrassment and looked away, bringing a hand up to partly hide her face. "Listen, I know you probably don't get this sort of thing. It's already awkward to talk about it while I'm Ladybug, but—"

"No, I get it," Eagle assured, though her expression was neutral.

Ladybug looked at her in surprise. "You do?"

With a slight roll of her eyes, Eagle replied, "Okay, so I don't get all the love stuff exactly, but Uncanny Valley has her own thing for me to deal with. She always wants to help people; she can't help it. Besides, Liiri says that there's always something stopping people from reaching their full potential. Sometimes it's bad, sometimes it's good, and it's my job to figure out what it is." She glanced Ladybug up and down, as if to gauge something. "You really think it's that bad?"

Ladybug responded with a wince, bad memories already starting to surface.

"Alright, wow," Eagle said, hands raised as she took a step back, the reaction having already convinced her while she herself clearly wanted no details about it. "Are you ready then? You know this is only going to last five minutes, right?"

"Wait—" Ladybug blinked in surprise. "You're really going to help me?"

"Yeah?" Eagle replied. Half-offended, she asked, "Did you really think I wouldn't?"

"No! Sorry!" Ladybug rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. "You'd be... surprised, by how bad this stuff usually goes for me."

For a moment, Eagle looked tempted to ask, but shook off the thought just as quickly. Placing her fists to her chest, her gaze went firm, showing that she was ready.

Ladybug stood in place, almost nervous at the prospect of doing this. She was essentially taking out a piece of herself, but it was the only way to test it; the only way to know for sure.

"Liberation!" Eagle called out, spreading her arms as a single light burst out of her.

Ladybug flinched, her fighting instinct kicking in, but she held firm and let the light touch her. For a moment, she was frozen, able to sense Eagle's presence in her mind and even hear her voice. Eagle's voice was calm, but tempting, offering the freedom so desperately desired.

"Ladybug, your love has taken over your life. I release you from it!"

—————

Marinette quickly stashed the glasses in her purse as she checked her phone's timer. She had four minutes and forty-five seconds to do this, and she took a steady breath before stepping out of the alley she'd been hiding in.

As she raced across the street, the fencing students were just filing out out of Françoise Dupont. The moment she saw Kagami and Adrien leaving, she raised a hand, raising her voice so she'd be heard. "Hey, Adrien!"

Adrien and Kagami stopped and glanced her way. Adrien turned to Kagami, saying something and briefly tilting his head in Marinette's direction. Kagami nodded at him in response, and they separated, Kagami heading in one direction and Adrien heading in Marinette's.

At first, Marinette was nervous, her worst case scenario being that Liberation had truly failed or worn off when she de-transformed, or that her feelings were somehow so strong or messed up that even Liberation somehow couldn't help her.

Yet, as Adrien approached, she found that she wasn't shaky at all. Her heart wasn't pounding either. She didn't even feel the slightest bit of awe from his presence.

She was normal. She was okay.

"Hey, Marinette," Adrien greeted with a smile. "Did you need something?"

It took her a moment to answer, still stunned that it'd worked and she'd truly been freed of her crush, even if it was for five minutes. "Oh. No, actually, just..." She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, checking the time, then kept it at her side as she asked genuinely, "How was fencing?"

Adrien looked briefly caught off guard, though whether he was surprised at her acting differently or just the question was anyone's guess. He then brightened, replying excitedly, "It was great! I got paired up with Kagami again, and you know how Mr. D'Argencourt is with fencing, so he..."

The conversation continued as nothing but casual from there, and Marinette almost felt silly at how amazed she was by such a simple thing. It was actually like she was Adrien's friend; like they were on the same page and she could actually hold a conversation with him. He looked and talked the same way he always did, yet she was perfectly fine. Students passed by and maybe tossed them a brief glance, but completely ignored them otherwise because she wasn't acting "weird."

At worst, she was grinning just a little wider out of the pleasant surprise of the whole thing.

When she'd first thought to "liberate" herself of her feelings for Adrien, she was certain she'd be disappointed by it. She honestly thought that she would see Adrien and miss the heart fluttering, the weak knees, and the sheer dreaminess he used to radiate.

But she was wrong. With her crush gone, she could see herself from an outside perspective and reflect without fretting over the things she would've otherwise. Where she thought there'd be disappointment, there was relief that she could actually breathe and not turn into a mess around him. Her mind wasn't clouded with thoughts, and her eyes could drift wherever she wanted without some brainless thought intruding and warning her that she might miss Adrien blinking if she looked away.

She'd needed this. It was nice; more than nice even. Is this how it could be all the time if she truly moved on from him? No more mocking, no more jealousy, no more "crazy Marinette"? It'd be like a celebrity crush that she grew out of; an embarrassing memory of the past and nothing more.

More importantly, she would remember this. She would remember this feeling; the sanity of not being in love with Adrien, or not feeling whatever that emotion was actually called. To say the word "love" seemed so... wrong.

Still mid-discussion with Adrien, Marinette's phone suddenly beeped with a warning message. She turned it in her hand, seeing that she'd properly set the timer earlier to warn her when there was a minute and half left of Liberation.

Adrien leaned over to look at the screen, but jumped when a loud honking noise abruptly sounded off from behind him. Marinette tried not to snicker, but it was difficult; seeing someone else be the jumpy one was quite the experience, and she'd have to remember that too.

Adrien looked over his shoulder at his limo waiting for him, then glanced back at her apologetically. "Sorry, I gotta go. Can we talk later?"

"Oh, sure! Definitely!" Marinette stashed her phone back in her purse, then waved to him. "See you tomorrow!"

"Bye, Marinette!" Adrien exclaimed, waving as he rushed off. "It was fun talking to you!"

"You too!"

Marinette pursed her lips, trying to contain herself as she watched Adrien get into the limo and ride off down the street. She waited until it was out of earshot, then let herself start squealing, even hopping around and doing a twirl for effect.

"M-marinette?!" Tikki called, concerned. "Did it wear off? There's still time—"

"I'm gonna delete all my Adrien pictures!" Marinette exclaimed. "And take down that disaster of a wallpaper!"

"W-wHA—!!" Tikki gaped. "Marinette, when your feelings come back—"

"That's future Marinette's problem! This feels great!" Marinette cheered, having to suppress her excitement just so she could talk. Raising one hand dramatically, she placed the other to her chest, saying to no one in particular, "Oh, what's that? Me, crushing on Adrien? Ew, no way! We're just friends!"

She laughed triumphantly, a bounce in her step that made it seem almost like she were jogging. She crossed the street, reaching for the bakery door's handle and practically singing to herself, "Just friends~ We're just friends~ Me and Ad~ri~en are just good—"

She paused as she opened the door, seeing a familiar mix of blue and black standing at the counter and talking to her parents. At the chime of the bell, all three looked over at her, Luka's smile welcoming and his lips partially coated in white from what seemed to be a powdered donut.

"Hey, Marinette," he greeted. "We were just talking about you."

"Oh, he's such a sweetheart," Sabine cooed. "He came all the way here just to see you."

Luka blushed a light shade of pink at the obvious teasing, Tom jumping in to exclaim, "And he really thought he had to pay us for sweets! I told him, you're friends with our daughter, you better not put a single coin on that counter, young man!"

The three had a laugh together; clearly, they'd been getting along before she came in.

Yet, Marinette's smile fell from her face, a mental 'oh' echoing in her mind.

She hadn't even considered Luka when she'd thought of taking away her crush on Adrien, but it made sense; Eagle had said love, and Marinette wasn't foolish enough to think that she hadn't felt anything romantic for Luka. It only made sense that her crush on him would go too.

But it wasn't the same. The relief didn't follow the lack of feeling. With Luka, there'd always be a little leap in her heart, then a wave of calm washing over her, but neither were there and she couldn't help feeling disappointed.

Luka's smile disappeared as he noticed her expression. He approached, concern written all over his features. "Marinette?"

They were friends at that very moment; that was all the feeling she had on the matter, but she wanted what she'd had before. She remembered his confession at the TV station and yearned for the warmth in her cheeks when he stared at her and told her how much he loved her with words that were entirely his own; words that told her that he loved her as herself and filled her with a confidence she seldom had outside of being Ladybug.

Everything clicked. Her crush on Adrien represented stress, anxiety, and losing herself, but her crush on Luka represented peace, happiness, and being herself.

She missed how she felt about Luka. She didn't miss how she felt about Adrien.

That was all the answer she needed.

Almost on cue, her phone beeped again, this time to signal that Liberation was over. Marinette took in a shaky breath as she felt pleasantly familiar emotions rush through her again, and she welcomed them back like she would an old friend.

Luka's blue eyes gained vibrance and allure, his lips being coated in powdered sugar suddenly became incredibly cute, and she could think of him as no less than the most handsome boy in the world.

"...Sorry," she said breathlessly, waving a hand to assure him that she was alright. "Let's just say I went through a lot of emotions today. I'm happy to see you, really!"

Luka's smile came back, filling her with its warmth. "I'm glad," he said in relief. Then, taking a glance at her purse, which was still letting out a muffled, melodic beeping noise, he asked, "Sorry, do you have to be somewhere?"

"Hm? Oh, no, not really." She took out her phone to shut off the timer, then flashed him the screen before closing the app and storing the phone back in her purse. That done, she paused to consider things, then dared a glance back at him. "Hey... can we walk for a while?"

He blinked, mildly surprised, but nodded. "Sure. Did—" He froze, apparently only now realizing that he had powdered sugar on his lips. He swished his tongue around to lick it off, then started over with, "Did you want to talk about something?"

Smiling almost smugly in response, she felt confident enough to offer him her arm, as if he were a damsel she was leading around. She'd never seen his eyes widen quite so much before, but he also didn't protest, happily taking hold of her arm.

Knowing that her parents would just be giving their looks of approval if she glanced back, she stepped out of the bakery and led Luka towards the park.

"So, it took a little longer than I hoped, but... do you remember when you were talking about me getting clarity?"

[on-a-lucky-tide]

MCD but not really; saga spoilers

I have this idea I've been ruminating on for a while. Putting it in a small post because I doubt I'll ever get round to writing it.

I've been reading widely about other cultural belief systems/practices from the practice of wakashūdō among the samurai to Zoroastrianism (literally anything to avoid reading about the Yorkist rebellions for work because fucking hell is that not my area of interest...)

The latter gave me a story idea based on their guardian angels known as Arda Fravash.

They originally patrolled the boundaries of the ramparts of heaven (Bd6.3, Zs5.2), but volunteer to descend to earth to stand by individuals to the end of their days.

Eskel is one such "guardian angel", who chooses to descend to protect Geralt. It's the boy's cries as his mother abandons him that draw Eskel's attention. The cloud of destiny hovers over that mop of red curls, and Eskel knows he will be needed. He takes the form of a toddler too, so the boy won't be frightened and they grow together. No one else can see Eskel. The instructors select Geralt for the extra mutations because he seems to be the strongest. Special in ways the others aren't. Eskel holds him through it all.

And continues to hold him as the years pass. Figuratively. For he cannot actually touch Geralt unless it's to save his life. He is there for every contract, every scrape, every bad decision and every good one. He is there for Blaviken, the Cintran ball, everything.

As time drifts by, Eskel can't help but fall in love. It's a draw too strong to resist. He yearns to hold Geralt, to press his lips to the palm of his hand, card his fingers through his silver hair. But he can't. It's fine though, he shows his devotion in other ways, and Geralt is grateful. Even though the rest of the world hates him, Eskel will never abandon him.

When Geralt falls for Yennefer, Eskel is there to listen to their trials and Geralt's hurt, leaving them in peace when he feels the warmth of Geralt's affection peak after each reconciliation. Eskel helps them raise Ciri, who is the first person other than Geralt to ever see him. It's their secret. Although he is certain that Yen, and sometimes the vampire, Regis - "I fucking told you, Geralt, and you wouldn't listen" - are looking right at him.

When Geralt's time comes, when blood flows through the streets of Rivia, Eskel is yanked to the otherside because he's not allowed to change Geralt's fate. Some things are written in stone and cannot be altered.

Eskel shouts, and fights, and screams, because the wounded look of realisation on Geralt's face is too much to bear. He thinks Eskel has left him to perish. But Eskel can't do anything; he has to watch as Geralt fades with his lady love.

Then something miraculous happens.

Ciri opens a path through the mist and suddenly Geralt is right there. When Geralt rises from that boat on the otherside, he helps Yen to shore first, and then approaches Eskel. "So, this is him," Yen says, and Eskel blinks in surprise. She knows. Eskel is bewildered, but as he tries to bluster through an explanation, Geralt reaches forward.

"It is," Geralt replies, and touches the battle scars on Eskel's face. Touches. Geralt's fingers carve a trail of molten heat over Eskel's skin that makes him gasp, his stomach flips, his knees shake, threatening to fail.

Eskel captures Geralt's hand before it can pull away, firm, real, and kisses his palm, savouring every precious first moment. Geralt smiles that beautiful, crooked smile he always called ugly, and pulls Eskel to Yen to make the introductions. Eskel kisses Yen's hand, and they walk together into the mists.

They live happily ever after, together, in Avalon.

[violetnotez]

fic or whatever concept: fushiguro is in love w the reader but they have a huge crush on yuuji and it’s just megumi suffering as the reader and yuuji get together and they’re actually really,,, happy??? and in love???

This is the shit I LIVE FOR -also I made a whole playlist for this idea-you can watch the vid here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Megumi x reader (not really?), Yuuji x reader

Songs to Listen to: Treat You Better (but the Kurt Hugo version, seriously, thank me later!)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Maybe if he had tried harder, this wouldn’t have ended up like this. He just felt alone, empty, with nothing to show but a broken heart and head full of bitter dreams.

Did he fool himself? That maybe, some miraculous way, he would have won?

Megumi lay on his bed, worn sweatshirt making his skin crawl and his black sweats uncomfortable to wear, his toes curling from disgust.

Nothing could get his mind off of you, even months after you started dating Yuuji.

 It almost got worse, now that you were off limits.

Funny how it works like that.

His brain seemed to just always want to think of you-the way your voice seemed to sparkle when you yell out his name, the way you look too damn cute when you’d walk out of your dorm room in the morning, hair messy and feet bare-

Fuck fuck fuck.

Megumi groaned, placing a hand on his forehead and smoothing his hair back in exasperation.

You weren’t his, and you’d never be his-he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were dating his best friend after all-didn’t he have any shame?

Even though he was in so much heart ache, so much pain from the fact he couldn’t have you.....he couldn’t ever hate his friend from taking you away from him.

Yuuji was good to you, and painfully, he had to admit Yuuji was better than him in every way as a boyfriend.

Yuuji was sociable, able to strike up a conversation and make everyone feel like his best friend-Megumi wasn’t like that.

Yuuji wasn’t afraid of physical touch, constantly having a hand on your hip to keep you near him or swinging you around lovingly like he hadn’t seen you in years- he was terrified of physical touch.

Yuuji was strong, powerful, and able to protect you from the world- he couldn’t say the same for himself.

Megumi’s insecurities were infesting his body, gnawing at his bones, squirming through his muscles and into his skin, making his jaw clench and nails dig deep into his skin from disgust within himself.

Why hadn’t he at least fucking tried?

But he had been too placid, too worried of rejection, too worried of ruining your friendship-

But then again....he was just too selfless. He was willing to let everyone around him surpass him if it meant they would win, thrive, and live happy lives- even if it meant he had to suffer the consequence.

Megumi squeezed the white sheets around him, twisting them into tight spirals around his digits.

He let it happen again-he had succumbed to that fear.

Years worth of affection, years worth of admiration and dedication-washed away like it never happened., because of it And now he was dealing with the repercussion with phantoms of what could have been, with the jealousy, and a broken heart.

Megumi shifted in his bed, feeling his sweatshirt stick to his back, his hand reached out to grasp at the white beams of moonlight drifting into his room.

What would have happened if he had said no that day? Would anything have changed-if he had admitted that he did like you, that he had wanted to call you his?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He remembers that day like it was yesterday, that feeling of dread filling in his stomach as if he knew something was about to change, the shift of energy making an icy chill run along his back.

Yuuji has been behind him, leaving training as they usually do with his hands in his pockets.

It was quiet, the hallways empty except for the two of them, the wooden floors making soft clicks as it reacted to their footsteps. It should have felt peaceful, a soft breeze fluttering in from the opened windows as the sun began to set outside. But that errie sensation was still boiling in Megumi’s gut, that gnawing feeling of dread making him unable to enjoy the peace.

“Hey man, I wanted to ask you something real quick,” Yuuji’s voice stopped Megumi in his tracks, his feet halting with an echo in the empty corridor.

Megumi turned around slowly, tentatively, almost too worried to face what was behind him. 

Maybe at this time he knew what was about to happen, the feeling of dread settling.

“Sure,” he simply stated, shrugging nonchalantly as the golden sun set the room in a red hue.

“This might be a little personal,” Yuuji began, hands placed in the pockets of his sweatshirt still, “but I got a question about y/n.”

Yuuji looked at him, staring him down like two men in a duel. He was serious, more serious than Megumi had seen him in a long time.

“I know you guys are pretty close...”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Megumi stated, swallowing a ball of saliva down his dry throat.

“Well, I-“ Yuuji sighed, pink hair swaying as he looked down at the floor quickly, almost preparing himself for what he was about to say next.

“I-I wanted to ask them out.....out on a date....”

“- it okay with you?”

Megumi’s eyes widened in shock, the his whole body feeling as if hit by a ton of bricks from Yuuji’s words.

This was it-the worst case scenario, the worst thing he knew was happening but didn’t want to admit.

Megumi tried to recover quickly, his eyes slanting back down to unamused slits in a matter of seconds.

“Why are you asking me?” he questioned, trying to keep the growing panic inside him at bay,” It’s not like I dictate who she dates.”

“I think you know why.”

“I don’t.”

“Fushigoro-“

Megum sighed violently, eyes looking up at the ceiling as he tried to fight the growing pain in his heart.

“I don’t dictate your life-I don’t dictate them-and you don’t dictate mine. Do whatever the hell you want-“

“I won’t date them unless you say it’s okay for me to Fushigoro.”

Itadori’ voice had none of that boyish, playful tone to it. It was more mature than Megumi had even heard it-but something behind it was different.

It was almost like there was this desperateness to it- Yuuji needed him to say yes. Yuuji so badly wanted to call you his-just like him.

“You can say no-“ Itadori rushed on, eyes intense with anticipation, “-I won’t think less of you or hate you for it.”

Megumi watched as he shuffled uncomfortably, the knowledge that he just admitted his crush making him slightly sheepish as he scratched the back of his head.

“Hell, I know I would-” he said truthfully, “ I just don’t want to ruin our friendship by going behind your back.”

Fuck, Megumi wanted to fight for you. He wanted to so so badly.

Megumi had known you for longer, you two were close friends, he had a connection to you-didn’t he deserve to be yours after being so dedicated to only you?

Fushigoro was there for when you cried over your stresses, rubbing your back patiently as you let everything out of you, summoning his animals because he knew how much they made you happy.

He was there for your late night study sessions, the lighting hazy as the pouring rain pounded on the window, cleaning up your room of the papers and flashcards after he convinced you to go to sleep.

He trained with you when you worried you weren’t strong enough, always making sure to congratulate you in someway, fighting the redness in his cheeks after you had successfully completed a new move, your skin dangerously close to his.

God, he had waited for so long-why did the world have to fuck him over? Why did his best friend, out of all the people in the world he could form a crush on, like you like that?

But looking at Yuuji, he knew he wouldn’t win this war. Him and Yuuji were very similar in their passion and devotion, but the simple difference between them was Yuuji wasn’t afraid to be selfish.

Megumi was accustomed to backing down for everyone, sacrificing himself so the people he loved could succeed. It was an awful habit of his, maybe due to his insecurities, maybe just a routine he learned at this point, he would never know- but the fact was he knew that Yuuji would never stop fighting for you. Even if Megumi screamed at him, cursed at him, told him to fuck off and leave you alone-Yuuji wouldn’t ever stop loving you. Itadori would respect Megumi’s wishes, but he would still protect you, fight for you, and love you with everything in him.

And that much devotion coming from someone as charismatic and kind like that-what person wouldnt fall for that?

Megumi sighed, his heart breaking in two at the sudden realization hit him-he was too weak to be any threat to Yuuji.

”You’re not going behind my back.” He finally said, looking down at the floor as the self loathing boiled in his stomach.

“But you-“

“I don’t. Like them.” Megumi was seething, hating every fiber in his body for doing this to himself. Each word was choppy, the sentence laced with sternness and bitterness.

“-Do whatever the hell you want.”

Megumi needed to leave, and leave quick. He hadn’t felt this emotional in a long time, and he didn’t want Yuuji to start thinking that he was actually bothered by all of this.

He turned on his heel, ready to get out of there as quickly as possible-

“Hey Megumi- you really okay with this? This won’t change our friendship? I won’t do this unless youre okay-“

Yuuji took a step forward, hand reaching out to his friend as a peace offering, a sheepish smile on his lips.

Megumi turned, his chest tightening as he looked down at his hand, too tired to reach out for it and pretend like he didn’t hate his friend at this moment.

“They dont like me. They like you- I see it. You’ll make them happy, and that’s all I want for them.”

Yuuji smiled , seemingly content with his quiet friend’s answer.

“Thanks man,”

Megumi turned again, head hanging low as he quickly left the corridor, desperate to get out of there.

“Tell me thank you when they say yes.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He groaned, letting the painful memories overtake him as he turned his back to the wall.

It just hurt-maybe he would get over all of this one day, but right now he couldnt.

As if on cue to deepen his torture, he heard a giggle from you across his room, the muffled noise of Yuuji’s voice making him cringe.

Thin ass walls-you were probably visiting Yuuji again for the night, staying up all night to watch movies.....

This was destroying him-but he couldnt ever blame you for it, because you were oblivious to his love for you. He had made sure you would never catch on- and now you would never know because he was too cowardly to ever say it. 

God, what he’d do to have the roles switched though...with you breaking school rules to come visit him at night, to here that sweet laugh in his room, to feel your head cuddle into his chest, or see you slowly begin to wake up in the morning....

Megumi felt a pain in his chest at the wanting feeling that would never fully be satiated gnaw at his chest, his hands despertedly grabbing at his pillow and shoving it against his ear.

He didnt want to hear you, he didnt want to see you...at this moment he didnt want anything to do with you or Yuuji. 

This hurt too much...

Fuck, he really screwed up.

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

Living with what you’ve done

Uhhhhh

UHHHHHHH WHAT

Ok so I started writing the 100 special but then I got to 120!?! Wtf when did this happen?

Though I would like to thank each follower personally I have social anxiety and would rather not randomly message strangers following me. Here is my public thank you!

Idk what I did while writing this but it seems I managed to copy-paste the beginning four seperate times. This brought the word count up to 5.9k but it is now edited and brought down to 2.3k

Inspired by my friend @deltaxxk who loves angst and told me I have to write a follower special

Other prompts used: One, Two

Also! There are movie references within this fic, if you get them all you get a virtual lollipop 🍭

Ao3

Disclaimer: THIS FIC IS MAJORLY ANGSTY PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF ANY OF THE WARNINGS WILL TRIGGER YOU

Warings: blood, fire, death (+graphic descriptions of dying), injuries, grief, human trafficking and mentions of psychopathy

———————

“Robin we’re out of time! We must leave, we’re out of time!” Her yo-yo strained with tension as she swung into a goon, sending their body flying away from her team.

They had gotten a lead on a meta trafficking ring that involved some of the Gotham elite’s children disappearing. The lead brought them to the dock, GothDrill’s warehouse sat just off to the right. Its fluorescent lights signifying signs of life, Marinette knew most weren’t there willingly.

“Make more time!” He snapped back. Ladybug fumble slightly before regaining her footing, she wasn’t expecting the coldness in his tone.

She jumped back into the fray and watched from the corner of her eye Damian take on four goons by himself. She stifled a sigh before punching the man in front of her square on his jaw, ‘must he always prove himself when he has already?’ Damian edged himself closer to the garage doorway of the shed before disappearing into the building.

Focus her attention back on the battle around her, she saw Red Hood downed under a steel beam. She rushed over, and with her enhanced miraculous strength to lift the offending metal. He groaned with pain, the beam had pinned his legs, forcing him to lay stomach down. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, supporting the majority of his weight to get him to his feet. Pain throbbed in his left leg and they stumbled onto the dock to hide behind down GothDrill crates.

Ripping the seams of his pant leg, she revealed a dark purple bruise that was rapidly spreading. She also discovered the beam had broken his femur and shattered his kneecap, how he wasn’t screaming in pain was beyond her. Pink light danced between her fingers before drifting down to his wound. Jason bit his hand to prevent any cries from leaving his mouth. He didn’t want another confrontation in his state.

The sound reached her before the light did. Jason panted as he looked up to see what distracted her from his healing. Reflections of orange and yellows dancing across her cerulean eyes. “Damian.” She whispered frozen stock still.

Something within her very core snapped and cardinal urges overtook her common sense. Shooting up like a bullet she sprinted towards the blazing inferno, her ears numb to the world around her.

Inside was worse than the burning exterior. She could see where the explosion originated from, big barrels of flammable chemicals blazed white with heat. The smoke and burning chemical gases penetrated her airways, coughs racked her chest.

She could see flames running up the walls and the lit barrels but the rest was black. The smoke was a blanket of darkness that wrapped around her.

And then she heard it. The screaming.

Multiple voices, so raw with pain, masculine and feminine, old and young. Running towards it she hoped to spot Damian but luck wasn’t on her side. Instead she found the trafficked civilians, their bodies red with burns with their hair and clothes set ablaze.

She ran full speed at the wall nearby, shattering the melted bolts. The fire blazed brighter at the new source of oxygen. She directed the victims out, the dove towards the water. The goons had fled during the initial explosion leaving the Batfam free to help.

She looked down at the bodies of those who didn’t survive. Some were burned beyond recognition, she kept looking, scouring for Damian.

She heard Red Robin calling her name, she looked up to see the scaffolding holding the roof breaking apart and falling to where she stood. She felt her body tackled out of the way and another thunderous crash hit the floor.

She was dragged outside and placed into the care of a newly arrived ambulance. Her eyes, red from the smoke and ash, looked out the back door of the vehicle. Firefighters and police had arrived on scene along with news reporters and the public. Families of the trafficked were reunited with their lost love ones and others mourned their deceased. Red Robin stood there, watching her.

“You can’t just follow me into fire.” She croaked to him, her oxygen mask muffling her.

The whites of his black cowl narrowed and his fists clenched. “Then don't run into fire,” he growled at her before walking off.

Her body moved without thinking, removing her oxygen mask against the protests of the paramedics. Ladybug reassured them she’ll be alright and that they should help the others who were more injured than she. She walked back towards the building but the black-clad figure of Batman stopped her stride.

“You’re not using your cure.” He stated. Her eyes widened, the cure could save his missing son, save the trafficked from their injuries and deaths. Who was he to deny the will of a god’s favoured?

Using the cure in Gotham was always straining and the Batfam knew that. On multiple smaller occasions, she was prevented from using it due to the amount of damage and crime being reverse causing serious health concerns they observed in Marinette. But she never thought it would also be denied on an occasion like this.

“I have to! Robin cou—“

“No, you could die.” He cut her off, her foggy mind becoming more enraged.

“And he could live!”

Without a reply he injected her neck with a sedative, her body collapsed from the drugs and exhaustion. The world going dark around her.

+++++++++++++

Three days after

Her blaring phone distracted her from her dissociative state. She was staring lifelessly at her TV, she could say what happened in the show even if her life depended on it. She scrambled to her phone, Dick’s name lit up the screen.

She accepted the call, answer with a hoarse “hello?”

“Marinette? Are you able to make it over we have some things to tell you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Pressing her phone to her ear with her shoulder she ran around her apartment, grabbing her keys, shoes and jacket. Rushing out the door she rapidly fired questions at him, “What is it? Did you find him? Is he there?” All of which were answered with silence.

“It’s best that we discuss this when you get to the manor.” And with that, he hung up. The click seemed to echo in her car, even though she knew it didn’t. Driving towards the outskirts of Gotham where Wayne manor resided, she felt a spark of hope rekindle in her chest. Although Dick didn’t give her much to go on she still hoped they found him and everything could go back to how it was.

Fate wasn’t merciful to the naive it seems.

Her world shattered around her as she saw the crisped cape on the table. The smell of burnt blood permeated the room. Her eyes stayed locked onto the cloth as she spoke, “But this is only his cape, not his body. He still could be alive somewhere! He is injured and hurt and we have to find him!”

No one spoke. Their eyes flicked to one another.

Jason limped in her direction, his crutch clicking against the stone flooring. He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, his eyes brimming with unshed emotions. “The cape was found with the body, everything else was unsalvageable except the cape.”

A silent “we’ve found him, just not how we wanted,” resounded throughout her being.

She glared at Bruce, “He could be alive if you didn’t stop me! I could have saved him!” She lashed out, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“And we would have been having this exact conversation with Damian about why we didn’t stop you. The best outcome for this situation was you living.”

“No the best outcome was both of us being given a chance at survival” Marinette screamed at him, his face was emotionless. How could he be so uncaring to the fact of his youngest son dying?

Running out of the Batcave and manor she gasped at the cold night air. A sob escaped her mouth. Her head banged against her steering wheel, tears dripping onto her pyjama pants. There was no way she’d be able to sleep tonight.

++++++++++++

Twelve days after

Fire danced in her peripheral. A medley of bright oranges and golden yellows. She remembered the times when the two of them would watch the sunset in silence, sipping on hot chocolate and green tea. This blazing inferno was different. Its colours more violent and foreboding.

The screams. They were different from the ones she heard that night. They were his screams.

She saw her body encased within his burnt arms. Damian was little more than a burnt corpse, his eyes blazed green and his bone was replaced with metal pipes. The cure resurrected him but he was not wholly there anymore.

She awoke screaming. Not in control enough to remember she had neighbours; mentally pleading that they’d understand. They knew of his disappearance but not of his death. She was still heavily in denial.

She isolated herself away from everyone, afraid she would hurt anyone else that got close. She couldn’t stop wanting to hurt Bruce for making her unable to use her cure or the goons for setting the place alight and killing her fiancé. She wanted to go scorched earth.

She snuggled into his pillowcase, his faint scent of honey was still present. She willed herself to fall back asleep, his scent surrounding her. His pillow, his shirt, his ring; but she was missing him.

++++++++

Two hundred and eighty-seven days after

Red trickled down her finger. It took her a moment to move the fabric away from the dripping blood source but managed to before it stained. It had been years since she had pricked her finger with a needle, but her subconscious must have needed to feel something; even if it was pain.

She looked around at her juvenile pink room. She had moved back into her parents six months after Damian’s death. Three months into her stay and she still had most of her belongings in boxes. The only decorations in the room were scattered commissions and a wooden blanket.

Looking down at the puddle of blood that was growing on her white desk she wonders if Damian bled before the fire cauterised his wounds. She had researched that burning to death was one of the most painful ways to die, it takes hours, each nerve ending burning. The burn victim usually passes out after a few minutes but she could imagine Damian desperately trying to put himself out, only to find more fire encompassing him.

His cape was bloody so she hopes he bled rather than burned. Or maybe he was crushed by the falling roof and killed instantly. She hoped he didn’t suffer for long.

Similar intrusive thoughts plagued her mind constantly but she kept her focus on her art to push through the days. Gazing down at the wound she found Tikki had held her and Wayzz had wiped the puddle with tissues.

Today she’ll live for them. Tomorrow she might live to try her father’s new recipe of cinnamon macarons. Last Tuesday she lived to hear Luka’s new song. Next month she might live just to pat the stray kitten that lives in the alley behind the Chinese restaurant two streets over.

++++++++++

Five hundred and twenty days after

She froze at the sight before her. Thinking it was another hallucination or she was having another nightmare. “You thought,” The glass in her hand cracked under her grip. Her brain couldn’t process what was happening. She hasn’t disassociated this much since the day he ‘died’.” That by faking your death, you could find out who you could rely on?”

“TT, yes. Now that I know everything can go back to the way it was.” She swigged her glass again, wishing it were whiskey instead of water. When they had met, Jon and his family had warned her that he was severely emotional constipated from his upbringing but this was in the psychopathic area of emotionless.

“No.”

“What?” His shock almost seems real. His eyes had widened and his body language was unsteady.

“No, we aren’t done talking about this! How ignorant do you have to be to think this won’t affect our relationship? Won’t affect me?”

“It wasn’t real. I’m here.” He stepped forward, arms rising to hug her. He never was one for physical contact. She pulled back, grabbing a steak knife and placing it between them. He told her he had set the place aflame. He found the lead for the trafficking ring. He planned it all. And now he was back, almost a year and a half later.

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt! I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life! How selfish, how, how stupid do you have to be to not consider what it does to someone who cared about you?!”

“Cared?”

“Do I need to spell it out? We’re done. I don’t want to see you ever again,” She seethed. “You think everything can go back to how it was before? Well, it can’t. I spent months of my life mourning over a guy who wasn’t even dead. Who didn’t even care about me enough not to toy with my emotions. My life isn’t a game Damian!”

“I only did this because I thought—”

“I don’t care. Get out. Out of my house. Out of my life. Just get out.”

“I didn’t intend to hurt you, I just wanted to know.” Hot, rage-filled tears ran down her cheeks. She jabbed the knife at him, stopping inches before his chest. She had backed him down the stair and to the front door. Neither of her parents were home and he was more unpredictable than ever.

“I hope you can live with what you’ve done, le miel”

[call-me-doll-face]

Acquiesce- part 2

Warnings: once again guys, this does have noncon elements. If you are triggered easily please don't read. In no way do I approve of behavior like this, no means no. Consent is key. This is strictly just for the story. No minors! Smut, angst, friends to lovers, protective steve.

A/N- this is for my friend @rogershoe thank you for reading my stories and always giving me words of praise, and for always listening. I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it!

P.s I'm sorry for any mistakes! I haven't gone through and proof read!

Part one

Steve slept over that night, refusing to leave my side. I honestly don’t know whether I'm supposed to feel thankful or annoyed and hell who knows, maybe it’s both. 

Yes, him being here eases my mind. Knowing that he’s there to protect me if, heaven forbid, something happens. At the same time though..... maybe I would rather be alone.

Ever the gentleman, he willingly takes the not so comfortable couch in my opinion with zero complaint. We work together in silence to put the fitted sheet on before standing side by side, just staring at it.

“Ya know, I’d almost prefer sleeping on the floor.” He cracks a joke, looking over at me with that cute lopsided grin of his. Scoffing in fake offense I smack his chest playfully causing him to cover his chest with a very over exaggerated wounded expression.

“Hey! Don’t hate on my couch! You could always go sleep in your OWN room!” Before I could even finish my sentence he had flopped down onto his back, big arms folded up behind his head and a satisfied smile gracing his lips. It was hysterical, seeing him trying to fit his big body on my tiny couch, long legs hanging over the armrest. I snicker at him softly, running a finger up the arch in his foot as I go to walk away, knowing damn well how ticklish the man is. 

I try to make a quick getaway; wanting to avoid the awkwardness I could feel slowly creeping back in between us. However when I hear “Calla,wait.” I groan internally before slowly turning around to find that he’s already standing right there before me. Curse him and how damn sneaky he is! A man of his size shouldn't also be stealthy! 

“Stevie I-” I’m pulled into his embrace, fingers moving up to tangle in my long hair to scratch comfortingly against my scalp. All the tension leaves my body at the action, sagging against him and almost purring like a cat, eyes drifting closed.

“Calla... My lilly...”He murmurs softly against my hairline as he pulls me even closer to him, if that’s even possible. My heartrate spikes at his words as my belly erupts with butterflies. We had always been close but never has he been this tender with me.

His lips press one last kiss to my forehead before bidding me goodnight and gently urging me in the direction of my room where I had been so ready to escape to moments ago but now have to force my body towards.

“Goodnight Stevie.” I whisper softly on my way, Knowing he’d hear me.

I don’t know what wakes me. My eyes slowly flutter open and my lips part with a deep yawn. It’s not until I’m stretching that my body freezes as I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. 

‘You’re being watched’ my mind tells me as my muscles lock up with panic, eyes staying on the wall directly in front of me, terrified to move let alone look around.

In the back of my mind I already know who’s in the room with me. It’s him. He’s  come for me, to finish the job. Bucky....

Then just like that, as if materializing from thin air, he’s there. His hand wraps around my ankle like a vice, jerking me down the bed towards him, sheets getting bunched up around me as he does. 

No, no not again! please no! 

Crying desperately I kick out at him and miraculously the heel of my foot comes into contact with the middle of his chest, causing his grip to loosen just enough to slip away. Rollin on to my hands and knees I start to crawl away from him quickly in an attempt to put distance between us, but with a deep growl he’s suddenly on top of me, using his big body to pin me to the bed. 

“No, Bucky! this isn't’ you!” He lets out a sadistic chuckle at my words before he reaches down and rips my panties roughly from my body. I cry out as my skin burns from the fabric, leaving red welts in the wake. 

“Please don’t do this, don’t do this! I’ll do anything!” I sob but then he’s thrusting into me once against without a care as his chest rumbles against my back. 

“You will submit.” He snarls in my ear as his hips snap violently against my ass.

You will submit.

You will submit.

YOU WILL SUBMIT.

“Calla...Calla!” I fight against the vice like grip holding me in place, writhing and thrashing against him. A scream is ripped from my raw throat as I get a hand free, digging my nails into my assailants skin. “Damit, Calla! Calla it’s me! Stop!” With one more hard shake I’m pulled back to reality and I whimper shaking my head.

“Open your eyes Calla.” When I refuse to do so I hear his soft sigh then his big gentle hands move up to cup my cheeks, thumbs moving over them soothingly. “It’s okay my lilly... I’m here... It’s just me, I’ve got ya. Now open those big beautiful eyes and let me look at ya.” Under his gentle coaxing I reluctantly let my eyelashes flutter open to meet his very concerned blue ones, watching as he lets out a relieved sigh.

My legs are tangled in the damp sheets, body slick with sweat, and chest heaving as I desperately try to get some much needed oxygen into my lungs. “He... He was here...” My voice shakes out the words and I launch myself at steve, sobbing into his naked shoulder and clinging to him desperately.

He just lets me cry, holding my body against his as he whispers soft words against the side of my head. Eventually when the sobs die down enough he gently moves me back to the head of the bed. Pulling back the blankets he slides in beside me without my even having to ask before tucking me under his arm. 

We lay there silently for a while, my cheek pressed against his warm chest as my arm snakes around his waist to keep him with me. I let his even breathing calm me, nuzzling closer to him as the panic finally dissipates. 

“You know.... I used to have nightmares too. The last thing I can remember is my plane breaking through the ice. The cold of it. I knew it was the right thing to do, and never for a second have a regretted it. But god did it scare me.” I glance up at his words, seeing him staring at the ceiling with wrinkled brows with his arm that wasn't holding me folded behind his head. “Then I woke up and there you were, lookin like and angel. I done thought I’d died and gone to heaven doll!” We both laugh softly at his words, my chest blossoming with warmth. I squeeze him gently and he squeezes me back in turn.

“If I hadn’t had you there when I woke up, To teach me all the things I’d missed out on and needed to learn... to help me get through the realization that everyone I’d known from my past life were gone.... doll I never would have made it.” This time when I looked up my breath caught in my throat at the look on his face as he looked down at me... Cheeks flushed a soft pink, lips slightly swollen due to being bitten so much, eyes shining with something akin to what I can only describe as love.... Adoration.. 

Slowly he gently reaches down with the arm that isn't holding me and gently pinches my chin between his forefinger and thumb before stroking it softly. His tongue flicks out over his lip and my eyes follow the movement....

I squeal in surprise when in one sweeping movement he has me straddling his lap with his hands once again cupping my cheeks. I’m very quickly becoming convinced it’s his favorite place to have them, but in this moment I’m thankful for it, nuzzling my face against them as our eyes meet once again.

“I promise you Calla, my lilly, that I’ll NEVER let anyone hurt you ever again. Ever. I’ll kill them first. You are the most important thing in my life. I’ll do anything for you, to make you feel better, to help you through this.”

My heart swells at his words, tears forming in my eyes as I give him a watery smile. Slowly reaching up to mimic him I cup his cheeks, watching as his eyes slowly flicker closed and his lips part to let out a soft breath at the touch. “Anything?” I question quietly.

“Anything.” Before the word has even left his mouth all the way I lean forward and press my lips softly against his.

People say that when you have your first kiss with something it feels like fireworks, like your life is exploding. Not with steve... No, kissing stevie feels like home. Like a cup of hot cocoa in front of a warm fire on a cold december night. Like fuzzy socks and warm blankets... like coming home after a bad day knowing that your person will be there to make everything feel right again.

And god does he make everything feel right again as he kisses me back with everything he has. Moving my hands up to tangle my fingers into his silky soft hair I let him tilt my head back so that he can press his lips firmer against mine to gain better access. A breathy whine escapes me and my lips party willingly without him even having to ask. He instantly takes advantage as his tongue slips in to massage against mine before exploring my mouth.

My whole body burns under his gentle ministrations. I burn for him, and I’d willingly burn for him over and over and over again...

Keeping my head leaned back I bite my lip as he leaves hot open mouthed kisses down the line of my jaw... slowly moving back to that spot behind my hear that he just seems to know will drive me wild.... groaning my name he nuzzles his nose there affectionately as his warm breath fans against my overly sensitive skin.

Wrapping those big arms around my waist he pulls my body even tighter against his before pulling back to press his forehead against mine, giving me a gentle smile. I can’t help but smile back before leaning back in and teasingly taking his bottom lip between my teeth and pulling slightly.

With a grunt his hips thrust up against me, pulling a surprised gasp from me as I feel how painfully hard he is beneth me. My pussy clenches as the feeling as my body automatically grinds down to meet his thrusts. Instantly those hands grip my waist tightly, stilling my movements.

"Calla... we can't." He grunts out, eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched. I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion as I look down as him. I know he wants this...

"Stevie... please.. I want you... I've never been so sure of anything in my life.." shaking his head at my words his kisses my shoulder softly as he hugs me.

"No doll... I don't want you to want me just because you want to feel something... just because you want to forget. I want you to want me because you can't live without me... I want you to want me because I make it easier to breath... because that's how I feel about you."

[fragileizywriting]

New fic is out for this AU!

pairing: Cat!Marinette / Ladybug!Adrien (Lady Noire / Misterbug) word count: 3,247 chapter: 1/1 rating: G summary: “You make me feel safe and wanted.” “You are wanted, little kitty.” “You know what I meant.” “I meant by me. You are wanted by me— and I know you know that— but I want to repeat it anyway. I always want you to be happy here.” AO3 | Start AU Here | Previous Fic in AU

“Kitty?”

“My mom.” It’s all Lady Noire can reply through all of her sniffles. She curls up tighter into a ball on the couch, pinching her eyes shut to the point it hurts, curling up her arms and legs and tail and head so that she becomes a single black smudge on the couch. A stain. Just simply a stain. “My mom. Always my mom. It was my mom again.”

Her head hurts. It’s foggy and full of cotton, so stuffy from everything. She’s grateful for the shade in his room that gets darker and darker as the minutes tick by, casting the space in total darkness, so that way he doesn’t have to see how miserable she is.

It must be horrible to have to live with an east-facing window. Her plants would love it. Her eyes, though, not so much.

She grabs for a decorative couch pillow above her head, swiping it and hiding her face, giving her even a bit of reprieve from the light.

Adrien sits down in front of her on the couch. She hears the noise of his pajama pants crinkling as he sits cross-legged on the rug underneath the coffee table, hears how he drums his fingers on his thighs, and hears how slow and steady his heartbeat is. He’s always so steady. Always so firm and anchoring to her. Even if the world continues in its attempt to rock her boat and tip her over and submerge her. Adrien always holds on for her when she’s too tired and too scared and too lonely to do so. “I’m sorry, kitty.”

“Her idea of comforting me is by telling me to be stronger. Whatever it is.”

He pauses. “Do you… do you want to talk about it?”

“It— it doesn’t matter. What I was upset about in the beginning is gone— I’m more upset at my mom now. Tell me how your day was first.” Because it’s always better to ask first about others than talk about her own problems. She doesn’t want to think about it for so long. If there’s any chance of forgetting about it, even for a little while, she’ll be happy.

And Adrien knows this. He knows this, because he knows her, and knows that her changing the subject is a cry for help. A flag upside down, calling out in distress. She’s sinking. It hurts. She’s injured. It shows. The silence is enough to make her remember the turbulent storms that made her cry in the first place, causing her to coil tighter, causing her to coil smaller, all in an attempt to get rid of the noise in her head.

He puts his hand on her head.

The hand at her scalp is soothing, and still damp from the shower— her lashes flutter when he gets a purr out of her, even if it’s a little watery. “My day was okay.”

“What did you do today?”

“I had school,” he shrugs a bit, jostling the hand that pets the soft parts of her ears. She knows about school. She’d spent the entire day boring a giant hole at the back of his head, chewing on her tongue like it was personally causing her grief, doing her utmost best like she always does to not accidentally tell Adrien that she’s the superhero that vaults through his bedroom window every afternoon. “Nothing, really. No extracurriculars for me today, either.”

She knows that, too.

She’d asked him at school.

He’d managed to stammer out a whole sentence to her today. To Marinette today.

He doesn’t have a problem talking to Lady Noire. But Marinette is an obstacle that he genuinely can’t conquer, no matter how many times she tries.

“I just came home and did homework and went to take a shower and suddenly…”

“And suddenly I’m here crying into your couch. I’m sorry,” she tries to fill in the gaps when he struggles on what to say next. “I’m always showing up with some kind of problem, aren’t I?”

“I don’t mind. You know I don’t. I love taking care of you— you’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

She does. Of course she does. That’s why it hurts so much.

“Some hero of Paris I am, huh?” Oh, she sounds bitter. “Showing up at a civilian’s house crying about personal life?”

“Hey,” he whispers, with something stern in his voice. “Stop that. Don’t talk like that— that’s not nice to yourself. You know you’re allowed to have problems outside of fighting Hawkmoth.”

And that’s it, really. That’s what gets another round of tears to freefall down her cheeks, but they come out sideways because she’s laying on her side— she can’t feel the tears track down on her black hexleather mask, but she knows she’s crying. She knows there are tears sloping across the bridge of her nose and joining with the tear pattern from her other eye, because she can feel how wet the whisps of her baby hairs feel against her ear when the tears finally get there. “I wish I didn’t have this.”

“Oh, kitty— I’m so sorry—”

“My mom just wants what’s best for me,” she feels herself get smaller and smaller, hiccuping hard enough for her to jump. Will she disappear? She wants to. Can she? Will Adrien let her? Probably not. He has a habit of wanting her to be happy, even when she wants to do nothing but disappear forever. “But we get into arguments about what that is all the time.”

“I know.”

“How I should be trying harder in school.”

“Yeah.”

“How I should”—she pauses, trying to think of something, anything, to fill in the gaps—“be trying harder to balance my civilian life and superhero duties.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, kitty.”

“How I need to be better. How I need to stop crying. How I need to do everything except what I’m doing now, because it isn’t enough.”

“Kitty…”

“She wants me to succeed, but instead of comforting me, she keeps adding more stress onto my shoulders by telling me how I should be dealing with my problems instead. And it hurts. And it’s painful. And I’m lonely. And I can’t do anything about it.”

“You have something you can do. You can stay right here with me. You can stay right here until it feels better. All of it. Everything.”

“It’s hard being a superhero,” she whispers. What an understatement of a lifetime. What does she choose to talk about first? What does she pick to say? “I don’t know how Mister Bug does it without breaking down.”

“Maybe he does. Maybe he struggles just as much as you do.”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to imagine that. Do you think he’s okay?”

“Well, he’s just a human. Just like you are. He has problems too, doesn’t he?”

“I can’t picture Mister Bug having problems. I should ask him.”

“I don’t think you need to,” Adrien shrugs. “I think he already knows how much you care about him.”

“Then, should I be going to him and telling him what’s wrong? Do you think he’s upset, knowing that I choose to talk to someone else about my problems?”

“I think he’s happy that you have someone you trust,” he whispers, damp fingers tracing the shell of her hexleather ears. She can’t feel it like her normal skin, because it’s a magical suit, but the little triangles at the top of her head twitch as if they’re sensitive to touch. “I think it makes him feel content, knowing that you go to someone you like and talk about your issues instead of bottling them up.”

“Love,” she corrects. “Everyone knows that I love you.”

“Love,” he repeats back to her with a smile. “Right. Yes. I think it makes him feel good, knowing you go to talk to someone you love about your problems.”

“The whole world knows, you know. Even Hawkmoth knows that you’re my best friend. People talk about it on social media all the time. We’re a pair. We’re a duo. We’re a matching set.”

If only people knew just how close the two of them actually are. Selfies taken on the street when either of them finds each other, pretending to act like simply a celebrity finding another celebrity on the streets of Paris, instead of being two best friends.

“We’re a team,” he whispers.

“Team shark.”

“Exactly,” he talks even softer. “We’re a team, little kitty. You and me.”

“Because no jaw is too strong,” she replies.

“No smile is too full of teeth,” oh, there’s a smile in his voice.

“And no mouth is too wide to keep me away from you. Never. No Akuma. No Lady Noire’s mother. No stupid photoshoots that they pencil you in at the last minute. No world-ending apocalypse that Mister Bug and I have to fix every month. Nothing will keep me from you.” They settle into a silence that is only partially filled with her sniffles and the occasional wipe of her mask with the back of her hand. It’s a shame she can’t feel his fingers on her back, following the lines of her spine like she knows he’s doing— but it’s the sacrifice she pays up in order to stay protected from Akuma battles.

“Nothing will keep me from you, either. No nightmares, no Akuma, no fangirls that drive me crazy.”

She listens to the silence, opening her eyes to the darkening room, watching the sky outside his floor-to-ceiling windows start to orange and purple. It’s such a pretty sight, watching those clouds drift lazily by as Paris turns into a sight reminiscent of a dream. No wonder he doesn’t draw the curtains closed. Or maybe he just wants his room accessible to her at all times. “You know, sunshine, my uncle said that if I bottle up too many emotions I might start to break things.”

His eyes look like stars, looking at her in alarm and worry. “Like, you’re going to get violent?”

“No! No. Never. Not really. You know I wouldn’t.”

“Oh. Wait, then I don’t understand what you mean.”

“It wouldn’t be my choice. It would be just like a misfire of my powers.”

“A misfire?”

“It’s kind of like a protection, or a last-resort. When I’m so stressed out that my body just goes into self-preservation, making sure that it’s impossible to take my miraculous ring in case I’m indisposed.”

“Oh. I never knew this.”

“It’s to stop me from getting Akumatized.” As if the explanation makes this any better. “But it’s still not a good thing. Self-preservation is a pretty selfish thing to happen.”

“What”—she watches him lick his lips, as if he’s trying to choose his next words carefully—“what does it look like?”

“How do I explain this— it’s kind of like— uhm. Do you remember that movie we watched?”

“We watch many movies together,” he snorts, scrunching his nose into something silly when she cracks a smile.

“Come on. The one with the wizard.”

“Do you know how little that narrows it down?”

“The one with the demon.”

“Oh boy. Remind me not to join any charades groups with you— we’d lose every round.” The two of them snicker at each other.

“Okay, it’s the one where the woman who falls in love with—” she pauses. “A guy.”

“Wait a minute. What were you going to say?”

“Just some guy.”

He narrows his eyes. “Some guy you really like.”

“He’s okay.”

“What’s his name?”

She twiddles her thumbs. “Howl.”

Recognition sparks in those beautiful emerald green eyes of his. “Oh. Oh. The love of your life, yes. I’m aware.”

“He’s not—”

“Yes he is.”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t bother lying, little kitty. I know why you love rewatching the movie with me, you little gremlin.”

“The music,” she argues, feeling her cheeks heat under her domino mask. “The atmosphere. The flowers—”

“The magician boys,” Adrien grins. “Howl especially. Admit it. You have a thing for blondes.”

“I— I do not. Anyway,” she tries her hardest not to grin back. If only he knew. If only he knew that she’s not thinking of Mister Bug when he says that. “Shut up. Stop looking at me. Stop it.”

“Am I right? Am I?”

“You’re harassing me.”

“It’s not harassment, it’s endearingly interrogating.”

“I’m moving on! I’m moving on from this topic!” She paws at him when his mouth twitches hard, trying to keep his laughter out. “Do you remember when Howl got so upset that his hair changed color?”

“And there was goo coming off the walls?”

“Yeah! Exactly! The room was shifting super weird and goo was dripping everywhere? Something similar happens with the black cat miraculous when they’re super upset.”

“Similar? Or do you actually make goo?”

“Just similar. I’m not a gooer.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promise, I’m goo free.”

“How free of goo are you?”

“Pretty gooless.”

“I don’t want to see you all gooey,” he ducks his head, smiling at her with a quirk of his mouth like he always does when he’s teasing. “I don’t ever want to see that happen. Ever. And it’s not going to happen, because you and I are a team, and team members don’t turn into goopy sludge.”

Does he know how much that means to her? To hear the words out loud that he doesn’t ever want to see her get to the breaking point where her miraculous powers start to drain and create vacuums in the air around her? That he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that she never gets to the stage where she breaks windows and concrete and whatever surface it is she’s standing on— whatever object she’s holding?

Her smile is so watery.

So, so watery.

“What? The concept of a jelly Lady Noire too strange for you?”

“Anything that isn’t my kitty in her normal and natural form is too strange for me,” he shares a smile with her, those beautiful green eyes looking at hers. “But don’t worry. If it ever gets to that point where you’re a gelatin, I’ll love you. Even when you’re gooey.”

“Gross.”

“And oozy.”

“Ew.”

“And goopy.”

“Ugh. Why do I sound so disgusting?”

“I’ll love you even if you’ve turned into a slime.”

“Watch out, Hawkmoth. Slime Noire is here. Even though I don’t actually turn into slime physically, I am emotionally. Try taking my miraculous now.” They share laughter hard enough to hurt in the spaces between her ribs. His laughter soothes an itch that is somewhere next to her heart— it’s a warm and gentle balm. She loves him. She loves him so much.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he tells her when she finally picks up her head from the couch, wiping at her eyes, smiling down at him. He has to crane his head up to look at her from where he is, sitting on the rug, but it doesn’t look like he minds it. “I’m glad you showed up, kitty. It’s lonely without you here.”

“I like coming here.” As if she even has to admit it. As if he doesn’t know. The only reason why she doesn’t stay permanently in this room is because of all the plants she’s populated her room with. And, of course, the whole problem that Adrien doesn’t know her secret identity. Hard to take a shower in a hexleather suit. It’s not like she would be able to move in and be able to use the bathroom. “You make me feel safe and wanted.”

“You are wanted.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I meant by me. You are wanted by me— and I know you know that— but I want to repeat it anyway. I always want you to be happy here.”

“You already make me feel happy. Always.” Oh, she can feel how her cheeks stain harder underneath her hexleather mask. “I know your house is quiet, but— when I’m here with you— it doesn’t feel so overwhelming. Being in my house makes everything so loud. So many cousins asking me to help them. So many aunts and uncles begging me to cover their shifts or go do errands. And my mom—”

Well.

“You don’t have to do any of that here.” He lifts his arms up, offering himself for a hug when she cuts herself off and starts to think about it all over again. She slips off the couch quick enough to startle him, planting a knee at the side of his hip and another between his legs and crushing his broad shoulders into a hug. His fingers find a way through her braid, just like always, massaging a certain spot on her scalp that makes her eyes role and see stars. “You don’t have to do anything. I want you here.”

“You’re just trying to make sure I don’t turn into Goopy Noire.”

“Maybe I like the idea of being able to save the citizens of Paris from a sludge,” he laughs so warmly into her shoulder. “Being a superhero of my own. Who knows. Or maybe I really do care about you, kitty.”

“What a weirdo.” Oh— her voice is cracking.

He doesn’t mention it. “God, I know. Caring about my best friend is so stupid these days.”

“Yeah. Who does that?”

“People who love one another.”

“Wait. Are you admitting you like me?”

“Don’t tell anyone. No one will hire me for modeling gigs if they found out about my secret.”

“You know what? Just because of that, you’ll be the first one to get consumed by my goo.” She dissolves into laughter so hard that the both of them tumble backwards on the rug from how much the both of them shake, grinning at each other like the idiots they are, snickering and poking fun at each other.

“Ew,” Adrien manages to say at some point during their laughter. “That sounds disgusting.”

“It’s the price to pay.”

“What price? What am I paying for?”

“No idea. But it’s the price you’re going to have to pay,” she wheezes out between snorts, peeling away from their hug just enough to make eye contact.

He can’t see her as well as she can see him. It’s dark now, and it’s way too dark for human eyes to see in his room. She can see him in perfect clarity, of course, because her miraculous allows her to see in the dark as if it were still daytime— so she gives herself the luxury of looking at him without him pulling a face or teasing her.

Just a little snippet.

Just a little indulgence.

Just a little moment that is hers that she won’t share with anyone else.

And yet, it’s as if he knows what she’s thinking about anyway, like he can read her face in this much darkness. His thumb rubs circles on her domino mask, wiping away her tears and her worries and her problems with that smile he only gives her. It’s not his Agreste smile. It’s Adrien’s smile. Toothy and stupid and silly and his— he’s not self conscious about himself in front of her. He never is. “You’re important to me, little kitty.”

“You’re important to me too, Charming,” she wiggles her toes in her boots before tackling him into another hug that makes her feel all warm and fuzzy. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Always. Every day. Gooey or not.”

AO3 | Start AU Here | Previous Fic in AU

[silvia7272]

Miraculess Ladybug Salt AU: You Always Liked To Play With Fire ~ The Meeting

I have no idea how long I want this to be, but I doubt it will be too long, so maaaaybe 15 chapters? But I’m super glad that this has gotten more attention than I thought it would have.

Might need to point out that I only said there weren’t any Miraculous here, but heroes still exist, but they all hide their identities (from the public because I think it’s stupid for random civilians to know your identity) if they chose to or they only tell families.

This fanfic and its ideas were all made before season 4 came out, so if something doesn’t add up please don’t worry. That information wasn’t available then, and unless it fits into my story or I like it, I won’t include it in my story. Also, that new Miraculous wiki can get lost, I’m not putting any of that new information in here if they couldn’t even put it in the show.

Word Count: 7661

Tags: @vixen-uchiha​, if you wish to be tagged all you must do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged. I’m very sorry if I’ve missed anyone.

Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Summary:

(Fire doesn't exactly have anything to do with this story I just really liked the title)

Note: This book contains OOC scenes of Miraculous Ladybug as well as a ton of salt, so if you don't like that stuff you may scroll past and have a nice day.

In a world with no Miraculous, no Hawkmoth and no Ladybug, how does our little heroine do?

Well, it usually would be hanging out with her friends, as any other teenager would do...

But, of course, this wasn't normal.

This was reality. It was cold, hard, and definitely not welcome.

So, when this girl wishes to have some kind of adventure in her boring, mundane life...

How long does it take for her to regret it?

Trigger Warning (If you believe there is absolutely anything in my works that can be classed as triggering please tell me and I will include it after the summery. All off my works are made with a keep reading so you should be able to see if there's anything in the warning before hand.)

Mentions of guns, poison and stitching flesh.

***

Beep… Beep…

Alarms were annoying. Why had someone decided to invent a device that makes you feel guilty for sleeping in? Why not just be a gentle reminder in the form of a lullaby? Or a small caress of a hand brushing some hair, as you simply start to close your eyes, drifting of-

“Marinette you’ll be late for school again!”

She groaned.

So that was why.

Getting dressed she sighed knowing what the day would hold. Glares, being alone, eat, hopefully become nothing but invisible and make sure to go unnoticed before rushing back home.

For the past three years, this is what would happen to her. This same boring, frighteningly normal routine.

And she hated it.

Not just for being alone, or all of the sadness she felt grow each day to a meter she wasn’t sure what level she was on now but whatever. It wasn’t going down any time soon.

No, what she hated the most…

Was the boredom.

Yes, her creativity streak could not be higher, she had been going through her sketchbooks so much she had to work longer hours at her bakery to afford them all, but her love for fashion just wasn’t the same, she didn’t feel any joy producing her work anymore. There wasn’t anyone new to show it with.

She was just alone in her room, mountains of book piles covering every surface.

But she was bored in general. She wouldn’t be able to place the feeling, or even be able to describe what it was. But for whatever reason, she craved for adventure, I mean sure she was safe here, and she didn’t want to worry her Parents with this silly idea of hers. But she just wanted a tiny little taste of some venture.

So why couldn’t she?

“Did you hear?” Marinette heard the whispers, walking up to her classroom door she could hear what they were talking about, over the years she had become silent, become part of the crowd, it was so much easier to eavesdrop, although it was a bad habit of hers, she couldn’t help it.

For example, she heard about Adrien’s relationships.

Now don’t start getting worried, she was 100% over the boy. She would under no circumstances ever fall for someone like him, or even make such a god-like illusion of someone ever again.

But she heard how, the first day Lila came, and their kiss they shared. He really had meant to pull away.

Because he was starting to see Kagami.

But, his feelings became conflicted.

And he didn’t want to hurt Kagami, so he simply never told her.

But then he never told Lila to stop with all of her advances, and Alya had tried numerous times to set them up.

Again, Adrien never said for them to stop, instead went along with it. He never told them he was with Kagami, and Marinette couldn’t help but feel so sorry for the girl.

She learnt from hearing Adrien’s conversation he was her first friend, and she wanted to keep hold of that fact.

Just like her.

Except, the bluenette was able to escape that motion before she was sucked in too far.

She would’ve warned Kagami, don’t get her wrong. But Marinette wouldn’t lie. She was intimidated by the girl.

Every time she saw her, she would glare all the time. It just reminded her of everyone else, and she couldn’t go through with it.

Pathetic she thought bitterly.

But still. If she had confessed to Adrien, and then Lila came. Would he have told her about that kiss?

.

Well, er- Besides that, she had a knack for hearing other things too, for example, footsteps, she was able to tell who’s were who’s just by the sound. Some were light like Rose’s and Juleka’s. Some were heavy like Ivan’s and Mr Damocles. Some were sneaky like Chloé’s and Lila’s.

And she had to learn to avoid interactions with anyone she knew would make a fuss.

It became easy after a while.

Opening the door, she quickly scanned the class, they were all there, usual spots an all.

Around Lila’s desk.

Oh well.

It would be less likely they would notice her.

She was, fortunately, able to get to her seat without any interruptions.

“A hero is coming to Paris, to help all of the Parisians out. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Really, that’s so cool. I wonder what they’ll be like?”

“Oh, I sure hope he’s strong. Hey, do you think it’ll be Eostrix Or Sparrow?”

“And why exactly do you think it’ll be Eostrix? What about Medusa. Or-” Alya gasps, excitement seeping out of her.

“What if it’s Nebula?!”

“Nu-uh, it’s definitely Eostrix”

“No way Nebula all the way”

“Eostrix”

“Nebula”

“Eostrix!”

“Nebula!”

“EOSTRIX!”

“NEBULA!”

“BATMAN!!” The once quiet Rose belted out, before covering her hands in astonishment.

“Sorry I wanted to join in.” She gave a sheepish smile as Juleka pattered her head.

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief, they would always get loud but today must’ve been special.

She looked out the window. A superhero Ey? Coming to Paris? How exciting. She knew she would never get the chance to meet them in person, what with her not so chaotic schedule. But she would love nothing more than to thank them for all they had done, for even volunteering to come here and help.

If she was brave enough, she would love to bake something for them, as a token of appreciation for their work. Maybe even make an outfit inspired by them-

Wait- that wouldn’t be considered creepy, right?

She tried to work on that, with her attachment issues. But she was trying, with no friends at least, she wasn’t sure if it had worked. No one could see her progress without any other remarks.

“You shouldn’t work yourself up so much, besides there’s going to be an announcement in 2 hours, we’ll just see it at break.” Alix laid back in her seat, Marinette couldn’t tell if she had finally realised the truth but was just drowning it out or just grew bored.

But she hadn’t made any type of engagement with her.

Oh well, I guess she was done with hoping.

But it wouldn’t matter, Mlle Bustier came in clapping her hands to gain the classes attention.

“Now now, please return to your seats, I have a very special announcement to say” Please don’t let it be another pop quiz. It was bad enough when someone would glance her way in general. Not when her test score would be one of the highest.

“As you know, this small, lovely class has been so pleasant these past few years. Our own tight little nest, and I couldn’t be prouder of… All of you” Marinette saw the little glance she made, whatever she thought. It was all lies anyway.

“But, we will have to make another new addition to this class” A laugh was heard.

“Well, I for one hope they’ll be better than the last bunch… Except for you Adrikins” The others glared at her as Adrien looked away, not wanting to get involved.

If there was one thing Marinette could commend Chloé for, it was the fact she saw through Lila’s lies with ease. Having Sabrina by her side did make it easier, but she saw through none the less.

She didn’t care that everyone else believed her little tales, Chloé thought it was funny, and loved the idea of their reactions when they would inevitably freak out and cry.

She just had to be patient.

Plus, there was no way she would feel pity for Marinette. In this world, its use or be used. And like hell she’ll be used. She just had to see for herself.

“Chloé please, that’s no way to make a first impression. Ahem, excuse me, you may come in now!”

“Ok~,” A singsong voice said.

If Marinette had been paying attention, she would’ve noticed the newcomer walk in. She wore a long-sleeved unbuttoned cardigan with a t-shirt underneath and a knee-high length skirt. A scarf was tied around her neck, matching her attire and small petite shoes.

She would’ve noticed the pretty little bows in her hair. The pigtailed braids, all going down to her waist, showing off how long it still was even tied up. Little earrings so small worn, a detail many wouldn’t have noticed.

She would’ve noticed the little introduction she did to the whole class, and how it seems she brightened up the whole room. Or the smile she sent their way, not for one but for all. And how a blond boy blushed from it.

But more importantly, she would’ve noticed, or at least heard her name being called out multiple times.

“Marinette, please pay attention for once, I swear your behaviour has gotten worse” She wanted to shrink, now she made a fool out of herself in front of the new girl.

“I’m very sorry about that, that was very rude of her, I do hope you’ll forgive the situation, the only available seat is at the back” Great, now she will hate her.

“That’s alright, I love sitting at the back, that way, I can see everyone and know they’re ok” Hearts stopped, and smiles grew, she really was just a sweet little child.

The bluenette, however, was dreading it. Now there would be another to hate her. And she seemed so innocent. It was only a matter of time before she would be corrupted as well.

Oh, the horror, she really didn’t deserve it, but Lila would have her way, she always di-

“You’re Marinette, right?” She jumped, forgetting she had just been in her own little world again, staring off into space. She really needed to stop that.

“Err y-yeah, and you are?” She cursed herself for not paying attention, now she may just think she was an ignorant stupid-

“My name is Rosaniline Keyne-Hill, but everyone calls me Rosann, it’s a pleasure to meet you Mari” She giggled as Marinette stared back.

Mari? No one had called her that before. But she liked it.

“Yeah, same”

And it felt like something else.

Maybe… Hope?

…

She shouldn’t be so optimistic.

***

Trying to eat in peace was a nightmare. There weren’t many places where she could go to without being in trouble. The library prohibited any foods due to not wanting any books to be damaged, you weren’t allowed to eat in a classroom without a teacher present, and considering all of the teachers chose to eat in the staff room she wouldn’t be able to sneak into any room. The art club, again didn’t want to damage any works, not after Chloé “accidentally” spilt her drink all over Nathaniel’s sketchbook four years ago. He refused to go to school for a week. And the roof was out of the question, too unsafe and a risk if anything were to happen.

But Marinette, since it’s lunch, couldn’t you go eat at home? Why yes, she could, at least two times a week she would just go back and stay at home to eat, but she felt as if she couldn’t always retreat home just for convenience, besides, Mlle Bustier would sometimes tell her to eat in the cafeteria with the others instead of hiding herself away. If she tried going to her Parents when told to stay, she’d be given warnings that soon turned to detentions.

Even if at times she wished to just sneak away, she couldn’t, she didn’t want her Parents to be called in and get wind of any other situations.

Marinette sighed as she played with her food, boredom crept on her face before she tuned into that hero announcement appearing on Face To Face.

Despite everyone trying to shove it down the school’s throat, she was ever so slightly curious about it. She may not have been able to voice her opinions to anyone in particular but she just wants to see who this mystery hero was.

Her pink earbuds at the ready and plugged in, she waited until Nadja Chamack’s report would come in, eerily, the whole cafeteria was quiet, the suspense was enough to put anyone silent.

Then, the logo came on, the sound resonated throughout the room since it was on the TV but Marinette stuck to her phone, she didn’t want anyone catching her watching it.

“Don’t be bemused, it’s just the news. Now a new rumour has been circulating throughout Paris about a new superhero appearing to protect the civilians. I’m sure you’re all dying to know just how true it is. Well, I can assure you that only the best reporter in Paris would only speak of the truth, considering I have the key to answer all your questions.” Lights appeared behind her, all moving in different directions before centring on a doorway in the centre of the stage.

“I’m confident you’re very excited to find out who our mysterious hero is, so without further ado, let’s see who it is.” People began to hold their breaths, the excitement of who this bigshot would be, Nebula, Eostrix, or someone even bigger, they didn’t know, but you could hear a pin drop in that cafeteria with how silent it was.

From behind the curtain, there were ruffles, smoke emerged to give off a more dramatic flair as the crowds became excited.

.

.

*A turquoise and light emerald outfit came into view. Baggy clothing on her arms and legs appeared along with white high boots. Her main outfit seemed to reside a sweetheart neckline dress with a mini skirt, although Marinette noticed it gave the girl some mobility to move around instead of being restricting. She also noticed the slight cold colours centring around her skirt, since she always had a keen eye on different types of design patterns. Light blue overlayers obscured most of the skirts view with golden rims on the bottom.

She had a light blue neck jewel, although she couldn’t see much off it, she’d have to admit. Her mask was a gradient of turquoise to match her dress, her hair was tied up in two twin buns, two red hairpins also there she noticed, but the rest left down, Marinette had to wonder how long it would’ve been all down.

There were a lot of things Marinette noticed, however, one thing everyone could agree on…

Was that they had no idea who she was.

“Salutations everyone, why it’s a pleasure to be here.” Marinette had to admit, she looked… Kinda young to be a superhero. And maybe, just maybe, not what she’d envisioned when she’d heard about a hero coming to Paris. Why, she was making an assumption, and she should really know better than to do that since, y’know, but you couldn’t blame her right?

“WHAT? WHO THE HELL IS THAT?” She heard over the other side of the dining room. Of course, it was Alya, she never could control her voice volume. But she couldn’t tell if the ombre girl was upset over it not being Nebula or supposedly getting hyped up for a hero none of them had ever heard off.

Looking back at the screen, she could tell the news reporters seemed a bit taken back as well, Nadja never was good at concealing her emotions, even on air, maybe they had been promised someone else instead?

“O-Oh, I see. Well, I-’ Her recovery was the same, Nadja always fretted she had to rely on the people up in management to give her a line if she couldn’t think off one herself, she wasn’t very good at improv either.

The heroine smiled before walking down to sit beside Nadja.

“I understand the scepticism, my appearance deters most, but that is just a ploy, however, I’m here to make a promise to all off Paris. My name is Soliane Rin and I’m here to risk my life for everyone in Paris, with or without my mask on. All I ask is to be given a chance.” She bowed to the camera, to all off Paris, and Marinette was able to see her smile, her truthful words as the whole dining room stayed silent at her speech.

Marinette seemed to feel…

Hope?

“Ah- no it wasn’t that, it’s just we were given information you were appointed by both Eostrix and Nebula? How? I mean, how did you meet them, or more importantly how did you get to have this opportunity?” She smiled as Nadja had time to recover from her obvious disappointment.

“Oh that, well I had worked with them on a few cases in New York. I had trained for a few years to be just like that until I was finally able to convince them to train me fully. And well I guess they believed I was ready to protect this jurisdiction by myself over time.” Nadja nodded along, seemingly more at ease as the time passed by, more questions being asked and answered before everyone had noticed how much time had passed.

A beep emitted from the girl’s necklace, in turn making her stand up and bowing or at least curtsying once more.

“I’m sorry for the early interruption, but I must be going now, I have some business to attend too” She threw a peace sign as a puff of smoke surrounded her. When it had passed so had she disappeared. As the crew tried to cover from most of their unscripted events. Nadja headed to commercials.

The long-awaited announcement was over, what would the audience’s reactions be like?

“Really? We get a new hero like her? I’ve never even heard of Soliane Rin. Ugh, we might as well have gotten someone like Doorman” Kim flung his arms up into the air before sitting back into his chair.

Not good apparently.

“I know right, and to think I was excited for this” Alya dramatically fell back into her seat. And she was so looking forward to this news as well.

Marinette would admit to feeling more guilt, she may have… Possibly thought the same, but even still, we’re judging a book by its cover, surely, they all should’ve waited until maybe after she had proved herself.

Wait- making her have to prove herself was too judgemental still, she didn’t mean for it to sound that bad, she just- she was just wrestling with the thoughts in her mind.

Not noticing the annoyed looks from the class, the tiniest blush from a blond, or the tiny smirk residing from a brunette.

With a plan in action, she set to work ravelling a new story that was sure to captivate her ‘friends’. With a tremble of the lip and bowing her head, she waited until at least one person would notice her sudden change of expression.

Luckily, her plan went just as she thought.

“Lila? Are you ok, what’s wrong?” Rose, a sweet and naïve girl mind you, immediately took the bait.

And with that, the others finally took notice of her, a new record she thought, after so long she was used to this routine.

She knew how to work them.

“Oh- it’s nothing important, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to spoil the mood.”

Hook

“Hey c’mon girl, you can tell us. What’s on your mind?” Alya pats her shoulder to comfort the smaller girl.

Line

“Are you sure?” Lila asked again timidly, the other girl nodded, in fact, everyone did, and gave encouraging words to her, they couldn’t see the smirk inside her mind.

And sinker.

She fiddled with a piece off her skirt, a habit she formed when noticing they were always a lot more concerned when she fidgeted, it was a clever trick really. Being able to get anyone wrapped around her finger was a power she loved.

“Well, I just think it’s a bit sad really.”

“What was?” Someone asked, at times she didn’t really care who it was that responded, she just knew what the next response would be, she could always make them say what she wanted without them ever knowing…

Oh, she loved this life.

“It was meant to be a surprise.” She rambled on, waiting for someone to stop her, they had to.

“Lila, what are you talking about?” See, she knew how to play this game a thousand times over.

“Well… I wasn’t really meant to tell anyone. But since all of you are my friends, and I know I could trust you with this, so I guess it's fine to say.”

Everyone around the table leaned in, intrigued by what she had to say. Lila took a deep breath in, bracing herself for the aftereffect of her words she knew would come.

“I knew it would happen, that no one would like her, but I had hoped and prayed that you all would, I guess I should’ve asked for someone higher up” It took a few seconds for those words to tick in the aspiring journalists head, but when they were finally processed, she nearly erupted. It was better to make them think of what she said instead of just outright saying it, decent off her to help their brains.

“Wait- you- you were the one to suggest a hero to come to Paris!? OMG girl that is fantastic” Lila gave a small smile as everyone then shouted the usual praise at her, she nodded along before turning her head down.

“But- you all weren’t happy” They all felt guilty at that, maybe that was why Lila had been quiet the entire time while the news was on. She must’ve been checking for their expressions and yet they hurt her feelings instead.

“Sorry- we must’ve just presumed it was gonna be Eostrix or Nebula, that morning probably messed with our responses” Alya laughed as she draped an arm around Lila.

But the ‘lie’ wouldn’t end there.

“I see, I just thought she would’ve wanted more recognition while being here” Out of nowhere she started crying more, everyone tried to comfort her, but it was no use.

“She’s just such a nice person, and so kind. When I last met her, she was still in training and I promised I would promote her as much as I could” She sniffed as Rose handed her a tissue which she greedily took a hold of.

Before they could exclaim their surprise she immediately jumped right back into her story.

“I knew I should’ve tried harder; I should’ve gotten Nebula or Eostrix. I’m sorry I ruined everyone’s day. I- I should’ve left my big mouth shut. I’m sorry guys” Their guilt immediately intensified.

Lila had done all of that for them, and they had quite easily tossed it aside without realising, how could they? And to one-off their best friends? Despicable, absolutely despicable.

Wait, why did that sound vaguely familiar?

Oh well, Lila was more important.

“Lila no” Alya cooed in a soft voice, feeling mostly responsible, hyping everyone else up and being one of the first ones to dismiss the new hero entirely. She tries to comfort Lila was the least she could do.

“It’s not your fault Lila” Her plan came together.

“Of course, not. We shouldn’t have judged her so quickly” Just like all the others.

“We’re sorry, so sorry Lila.” And she knew how to do it so efficiently.

“We shouldn’t have judged so quickly” Lila’s smirk in her mind grew in size, they were so wrapped around her finger.

As Alya was happily explaining that she would be in fact honoured to create a blog about this new hero- she had forgotten her name, and would quite happily like to interview Lila as well to be able to learn anything else about the hero, a lone figure grew upset.

Lila had just created another lie, she was used to that, but for it to be about the new hero, couldn’t Lila tell just how dangerous that could be? I mean sure, it would be great to actually be able to meet a hero, let alone be friends with one. But to publicly announce that? Was she crazy? Did she want a massive target on her back?

She could only hope no one would buy into that blog, as mean as it was, but she didn’t want them to get physically hurt.

She could only hope that the new hero wouldn’t care about fake news or blatant lies.

She truly could only hope.

.

As shoes tapped against the floor along the dining room, a new figure turned her head.

She had been walking around her new school, looking around for entrances, exits and just in general any hidden secrets. She had previously asked for a school plan from a teacher, but had been informed that her students would be more than happy to help her instead, and she needn’t need some piece of paper. But that didn’t suit her, so when she wasn’t looking, she may have just acquired one anyway. She was quiet so she wouldn’t have been caught.

Now she was walking through the dining hall, she had wanted to take in the cafeteria, just in case there were any rooms she had missed, until she heard footsteps approaching her.

“Hey Rosaniline, come join us, we haven’t seen you all lunch.” She knew she’d have to concede, having analysed each person in her class, she knew, Alya, would not take no as an answer.

So, she flashed her innocent smile and nodded along, it may prove useful to study them further.

Her arm was grabbed before they walked over to a table full of people, so different from the other tables.

“So, newbie where were you? You totally missed the special hero announcement.” Alix asked her, the others looked over to see her answer, if Rosaniline hadn’t been used to having a crowd around her she believed she would’ve been nervous as hell.

“I had taken the liberty off looking around the school, I’m afraid I can get pretty lost in large places, I only wished to remember the layout beforehand.” She placed her hands together with a bright smile appearing. It was half a lie; she couldn’t exactly state her true reason, now could she?

The ombre haired girl pulled a large smile onto her face. She was just like Adrien, new, polite and a literal ball of sunshine, she thought before sneakily looking over at the blond-haired person who hadn’t said much, most probably due to his shy nature due to his upbringing.

She latched onto Adrien’s arm before practically flinging him towards Rosaniline.

She literally took falling for someone to a whole new level.

“Well looks like the two of you would get along swimmingly” Her new ship was bound to sail, she could see it now, their immediate attraction for each other, the dates and interactions they’ll have before proclaiming their love in the rain, a sentimental scene in which she’ll be gladly recording while hiding behind a tree.

I mean who wouldn’t just map out her new friends love life in a matter of minutes of knowing each other?

But… It may just become a crash course instead. They rubbed their heads simultaneously due to bumping into each other. However, one was ever so slightly overjoyed with being in such close proximity to her while the other would think that prank wasn’t funny in the least.

Before any of the duo could express their annoyance/apologise and maybe a get together sometime, someone of course just had to interrupt the moment.

“Oh, Rosaniline we need to apologise to you” Rosann had expected the apology to come from Alya but it appeared that girl didn’t know that she had done something wrong.

“We’re so sorry that you have to sit next to her” That caught Rosann’s attention, what did they mean by that? They must’ve noticed her confused face as the explained further.

“Oh, you poor thing, you really don’t know do you?” Well, no. That is what she wanted to say, she was new, of course she wouldn’t know, hell she hadn’t even been able to see the whole layout as she had planned to. She was sure there was a hidden basement somewhere, she just needed to locate it.

“That girl, the one you have to sit next to in class. The one with dark blue hair?” They all tried to provide as many details as they could without trying to make it too obvious, but Rosann was able to make out who exactly they were talking about.

She took a sneaky glance towards the person the group had started to talk about. She heard a few words of bullying, mean, lies and stalker before zoning it out, she needed to concentrate.

The girl, in a pink jacket and a grey skirt. Sitting alone on a table that seemed to be mocking her by how big it was. All of the tables were big, possibly to do with teachers wanting students to sit with their friends.

But she wasn’t with anyone, she just absentmindedly played with her food as nothing interesting happened.

Rosann stared, that girl, she hadn’t seen her smile once, or even display any kind of positive emotion. She was just lonely; couldn’t they see that?

That girl needed to be saved!

***

Midnight.

Or at least close to that time she thought.

She didn’t know, she had spent many a night out on her balcony just sketching in her book. One would think it would’ve been too cold but the bluenette didn’t mind, she had been used to it, the wind wasn’t particularly chilly out here, even if it was late September. This was part of her routine anyway. Staying up late was just something she was used to, her sleeping schedule was the worse. But she produced so many fantastic ideas when she was awake at night, it was a sacrifice she was willing to take.

With her earbuds plugged in, she was jolted out of her streak when she heard a different notification pop up, pulling out her phone she looked at what could’ve possibly caused it.

[BREAKING NEWS: New Hero Prevents Bank Robbery On First Day.]

Marinette smiled at that. Her first achievement, in Paris of course, she knew she had done a lot before, she had checked a few articles before, although she did have to rely on google translate on a few instances, but this hadn’t been the only thing she had prevented. There had been house fires to museum robberies to even outright terrorist attacks, and yet she was able to stop them all, she did have some help but from what Marinette could make out the other heroes got there after taking most of the civilians out of the buildings, and from what she could tell, she could’ve easily handled everything herself.

She could see Soliane didn’t need to prove herself to others if she was just given a chance for everyone to see what she could do.

To not be judged based on baseless accusations tossed her way. For people to look through and see the truth!

.

.

She didn’t know who that had been aimed at, but she knew she just wanted to get back to her sketching.

But… She couldn’t.

Not now.

Not when she heard a noise behind where she had been sitting!

She quickly dropped her belongings as she jumped up from her chair.

-

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but she knew she had heard something, it wasn’t just her hearing she knows that.

She knew something had happened; something was there. When she stayed put, trying to concentrate more- she heard slight breathing, slow and- hurting!?

She didn’t know who it was, she didn’t know their intentions or they alliance, but, if something was hurt, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t check it out.

So, she quietly approached the wall, having to stand on the bricks on the side of the wall since she wasn’t tall enough before pushing herself up.

!!!

‘That’s-!’

Even in the night she could see a prominent colour.

Turquoise!

“It- no it can’t be! Soliane Rin!” She whispered more to herself, but even still she couldn’t comprehend how this could have happened.

Noises of pain interrupt her train of thought. She- she was hurt!

Her mind had taken action, and immediately propelled her forward, she couldn’t leave someone out here in the middle of the night hurting, even if she was a hero, she was still human!

She ran towards her, instantly trying to ask if she was ok? Where was she hurt and if she can respond?

But nothing came, no answer, nada. She had to check if she was alright.

She came closer, forgetting about maybe not accidentally startling the young hero.

Her hand was caught midway to the hero, she gasped, her reflexes were still there. Her head was nonetheless limp and her left hand resting on her abdomen.

“W- who ar-” She grunted in pain again. Marinette shot forward to grab her before she could fall back.

“Hey, m-my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you’re on my roof right now. Please let me help you” Through her strength, she opened one eye to look at her. And through her eyes, she could only see one thing.

Sincerity.

“Right- leg… anti” Her breathing grew slower, as if she were falling unconscious, Marinette had no idea if it would’ve been eternal.

But Marinette was able to determine what she had meant. Looking her over, she looked at her leg, her baggy clothes were slightly torn but that didn’t matter now, slipping her hand inside, she hoped Soliane wouldn’t mind her hand being cold, she tried searching for it, for her antidote.

Her fingertips tried reaching out until she felt smooth glass. Wrapping her fingers around and pulling it out she pulled it up for further inspection.

The writing around the glass wasn’t in French unlucky for her, however, there were pictures, she had to quickly conclude this would’ve been used for situations just like this.

The picture appeared to show that it should be drunken not spread on the wound, so she quickly unscrewed the cap. Looking back at the hero she could tell she had indeed turned paler, she wasn’t faring so well, she knew she needed to do it quick.

Tilting her head back so she could pour it down her throat, she could only pray that she wasn’t too late.

.

.

One minute.

.

.

Two minutes!

Why wasn’t anything happening!?

Marinette had to take a deep breath, maybe it would need some time to take an effect.

In the meantime, maybe she could look her over to see if there were any other injuries. And then maybe go downstairs to collect some supplies. Living as a baker meant she knew her way around burns, scars and scratches, so they were always prepared with a medical box in the kitchen.

Looking at her over appeared to be the right choice in action. Her lower abdomen had been hit, Marinette reasoned with herself that must have been why she had yet taken her handoff.

But as Marinette covered her own mouth with her hand, she was a gasped at how much blood there was.

Now what? She couldn’t tell her Parents, she loved them, she really did, but she knew how loud her Dad would get whenever he got happy, angry, or frightened, she knew it wouldn’t be a smart choice, especially with how jumpy the hero was. Not like she couldn’t blame her.

Then that would mean calling an ambulance might be out of the equation as well, plus the Soliane Rin may not want the publicity of her going to the hospital after only one day of patrolling. She knew if she had gotten cold feet or even hurt like this on her first day heroing they’d be a high chance of her giving up.

Well… She was a seamstress.

She had been doing it for a very long time, so she knew the ins and outs of sewing.

But still… It could be extremely risky, and she’d need to get consent first… But if she didn’t wake up… And she knew how open wounds could be, how dangerous it could be if they didn’t get any treatment, and how much trouble she’d be in if she accidentally killed the hero when trying to help her.

.

Well…

She had dreamed of some adventure in her life…

And she got her wish.

***

Stitch… Stitch…

Flick-

“Ahh!-”

“So-sorry”

Her prayers off Soliane Rin waking up were answered, after she had collected a few blankets, medical supplies, and a needle & thread, she had come back up.

Only to find Soliane on her balcony, if it wasn’t for her shock, she knew she would’ve screamed out zombie.

How she had the strength to get there she would never know, but she had to guess, heroes have all sorts of endurance.

She quickly sped to catch her. She did reprehend her of course; it was in her caring nature, so she just had to.

But… The way she weakly smiled at her, she couldn’t help feeling guilty, she probably was in so much pain and here she was berating her for- for what exactly.

This was why they had all left her. She was too quick to jump the gun, to jump to conclusions, too fast to even see from anyone else’s perspective.

Which is why she was a perfect target.

She lowered her onto her bed, careful not to hurt her anymore. Setting her down so she would’ve been comfortable, lots of pillows to help as well, she was glad she brought so many in her childhood. Or whenever her Nonna would come, she’d always get a new toy from her travels.

And that was when she set to work, conversing with her about what she may have to do, and as hesitant as Soliane was, she also knew there was no choice.

“Fine, I’ll trust you Marinette” Those words felt like a gift, in any other situation she would have been jumping for joy, getting acknowledged by a hero? That was amazing.

But- she really couldn’t celebrate, the look in Soliane Rin’s eyes, the were… Fearful. She knew she wasn’t trusted, yet. But she would prove it.

Snip, snip.

The room was silent, no words had been muttered or mentioned, Marinette was concentrating on her stitching, just hoping she wouldn’t hurt her anymore. She must have regretted her decision now, of course, she had, anyone with the right of mind would’ve. No wait- she didn’t mean it like that! She just meant-

“It’s not your fault. I- shouldn’t have let my guard down” It became silent again, and this time Marinette had a lot more to think about. There had been one thing that was stuck on her mind and couldn’t leave her mind.

“H-How did it happen?” She saw Soliane grab a nearby pillow even tighter than she had.

She knew she should’ve kept her mouth shut! It wasn’t her place to ask anyway.

Before she could utter any type of apology, she was stopped when she heard her start to speak.

“It was right after one-off my patrol routes. I was surveying the city, just in case, I needed to report anything else. I guess- due to this being my first time alone, as well as having previously prevented some other crimes, I would have to say I wasn’t in the same mindset.” Marinette stayed quiet so she could continue without pressure, she knew from personal experience how frustrating it could be to start talking and get interrupted by someone else, it was always a pet peeve of hers, making her not wanting to finish her story out of pettiness.

“So… When I was too busy with moving around on my wire. I was shot!” Marinette jolted away, she knew something drastic had to have happened, and she had tried to brace herself. But she couldn’t, it sounded so surreal.

“I was careless, it was such a stupid mistake, no novice would’ve been hurt like me” Marinette jumped again, she was so serious, and so… Angry with herself. But, she had just saved a bank from robbers, of course, she could’ve been tired, she was human after all.

“And due to my shock, I wasn’t able to pinpoint who it had been. A poisoned bullet had just barely scared me, and I was still affected by it… Sir would be so disappointed in me.”

The last stitch had been completed. She was done, now she just had to bandage it. She noticed Soliane seemed physically more relaxed.

“I should be going now, I’ve troubled you too much” She was trying to get up, but even the bluenette knew she would still be in pain for a while, just until she would get herself checked out, probably as her civilian self.

“No, you’re still hurt. If you move too early the stitches might come undone” She laid a gentle hand on her, just enough to draw attention to herself.

“But I must, I need to report back, besides, don’t you need to go to sleep?” Yeah but- the words paused in her throat, why could she say anything?

“You’ve already helped me so much, surely you’d prefer me to leave, it would be unbefitting for a hero to be seen so helpless for so long?” She saw it, her face, it was just like her a complete replica, always so helpful, to never think about yourself even when it could be life or death.

…Ok maybe that last part was a bit extreme.

“Hey, don’t try to suggest that, I could never think that! You still need help, just because you’re a hero doesn’t mean you can’t rely on anyone else.”

…Maybe it was her stubborn side, or even her Mother’s. But she couldn’t even think of the hero going out in that condition.

Grabbing her hand, she was adamant about letting Soliane Rin stay. So, she just told her.

Told her that she can’t just go out in that condition.

Told her that she needed to get better, because if she was still hurt, how could she save other people. And how she also needs to look after herself.

Told her that… She shouldn’t have so many expectations of her, because it won’t do her any good, mentality wise… And if the expectations become broken, she’d be unrightfully angry at herself.

Told her that- oh god she was arguing with a hero in her bedroom and she wasn’t saying anything.

She wasn’t saying anything! She’s just standing there looking at her. Never had Marinette wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out?

“I-I’m sorry, I should have never shouted like that, you were just doing your job and here I come saying you need to stop- wait not to stop I meant maybe slow down, although if you wanted to carry on then that’s fine by me. What am I saying you don’t need my permission; you don’t need anyone's! Do you-?” Her hands had been waving in front of her frantically. She just couldn’t imagine all of this would’ve been happening to her, her emotions were spreading out of control. She really needed to compose herself.

-

Wait, why did she grab her hand?

“I -ahem- it's fine, I’m incredibly humbled by your generosity. You have a big heart, not many have such kindness like you” She brought her hand closer to her mouth, and the blue-haired girls’ heart was pounding more and more.

“I shall stay” She pressed the hand to her mouth, a small feeling off lips against her skin sent shivers down her back while she held her gaze.

“So long as mi Belle stays with me” It took her a moment to compose herself. It took another to realise to she was talking about her… It to yet another to compose herself from that.

“Sou yure- I mean you show- ah, I’m mean. Yes.” Marinette felt as if she couldn’t say no, and yet, she didn’t feel uncomfortable, she felt accommodated. She believed if she had said no, she wouldn’t have felt pressured by the hero to stay.

And she smiled at that.

They both had.

So sincere.

***

The morning had come.

And not a moment too soon.

Light poured through her drawn curtains, and her first reaction was to grab the closest thing to plummet it towards the sun.

Not like that would’ve done anything mind you. It would’ve just been to make her point.

Rising up and stretching her arms, she headed down her steps, it had been a weekend, after all, she was allowed a lie in occasionally.

Although, she felt oddly a lot more refreshed than she had remembered, what had change-

Soliane Rin!?

Her head zoomed around the room, where- where was she?

No one was in the room besides her.

So- was it just a dream? Did she really see just imagine it all?

But she couldn’t have, wouldn’t that have just been too cruel, even for her?

Did the gods really hate her as well?

Wait-

That piece of paper wasn’t there before?

Stepping over to her desk, she gently picks it up, almost afraid she’d rip it up.

As her eyes traced over the first words, her mind relaxed.

‘Dear mi Belle, apologise for “dropping in unannounced” and to cause you such trouble. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine thanks to you, I’ll promise to be more careful next time, sincerely your local hero, Soliane Rin…’

Her heart fluttered in gratitude; those events were real. She really did meet her.

As her hands curled around the letter, she smiled. A true sincere smile.

Because after so long, she felt…

Hope.

***

*I absolutely suck at describing clothes, which is why I much prefer to draw instead, I literally have no idea what some clothes types are called so I always end up having to ask my Mum and even then, she doesn’t know half the time so I may end up not describing much clothing in the future so sorry.

Well, I hope you liked it, I do believe these chapters are gonna end up getting longer and longer. I know a few of them are but hopefully, you won’t mind that. It will just make my progress slow but hey I was always slow so it shouldn’t matter too much right? Anyway, well Marinette has met the hero and classmate, she’s definitely different to my other version. But I do hope you like both versions.

Oh, and I may need help with Jess/Jace. I know that she’s Native American, but I’m unsure if there’s any type of detail I must include for them, for example, I’m aware that they don’t cut their hair for symbolic reasons? I’m not even wholeheartedly sure about that. So, I would like to ask if there’s any information that I’m forgetting/missing and I would love to be informed, aka if I need to include a tribe, any type of clothing that would be appropriate to wear or activities they do. Sorry if it seems stupid, I just want to be informed and try my best to make an accurate representation. You can ask me questions, but I will apologise if I don’t understand them in advance. (Just so you know, I’m changing everyone’s design but I’m definitely changing her earrings, I just keep having images of someone pulling them out ugh, hence why I’ll never draw large earrings that people could grab)

Also, if you’re confused about anything feel free to ask any questions.

Cya next time.

Note: Please tell me if I should add anything else to the card, there will be one of these cards for all 15 chapters, however, because I have uni work all updates will be slower because I really need to focus on the uni stuff, then I might be able to upload quicker. They also may change in the future because I can never stop adding stuff.

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

Demon Alya fic snippit

Feel free to do what you want with this. (If you want to put it on your blog or AO3 or something as a related work, I don’t mind).

—- 

This, Juleka thought as she strained at the ropes which bound her tightly inside the bloody pentagram, is really not my day.

“The hour grows nigh!” shouted the loudest (and smelliest) of the five hooded dorks who were standing around the pentagram, one per point, and intermittently chanting while waving cloying incense around. “Soon a powerful demon shall accept our sacrifice and manifest before us, and in exchange for our undying loyalty and our immortal souls, shall grant us vast power over this world!” He spread his hands. “Rejoice, my coven! Rejoice!”

“Rejoice!” repeated the four idiots, as Juleka termed them, to the lead idiot. “Rejoice!”

Juleka thrashed a little but still couldn’t get out, and she growled to herself. If she somehow got out of this, she told herself, she would learn for her mistakes. For instance, the next time Rose had to cancel their date because something came up, Juleka would not browse around online until she found a meet up for people who ‘believed in the occult’ and ‘wanted to explore the horrors lurking beneath the world’s surface with an open mind,’ and even if she found such a group she certainly wouldn’t go to check it out without telling anyone where she was heading. Or at the very least, if she did go, she’d get better at dodging so that if a bunch of creepy robed guys jumped up from their Dungeons and Dragons spellbooks and  tried to seize her again she’d be able to get away.

But that presupposed she’d be able to escape in the first place, and unfortunately, it seemed like the one things these guys were good at was tying people up. She wondered briefly if she could try to get mad enough that Hawkmoth would akumatize her and give her the power to escape (and throw these idiots into the Seine), but she knew that if Hawkmoth was paying attention he’d likely have already sensed her anger and done that. And besides, even if she did get akumatized, wouldn’t the Miraculous Cure put her right back down here when Ladybug finished beating her up and de-akumatizing her?

“We have already laid the incense and slain the goat!” the first guy went on. “And painted the pentagram in the goat’s blood!” Juleka gagged. “Now-”

“Are you sure your Mom is cool with us killing a goat in her backyard?” another of the robed guys suddenly asked. “I mean, it kind of made a mess.”

The leader shook his head. “When we get our demonic powers, we won’t need to worry about messes or moms. We’ll be able to do whatever we want. We could–we could stay out after curfew! Order two desserts at dinner! Make girls hang out with us!”

Juleka wondered if it was possibly to die of sheer secondhand embarrassment.

“Now, the hour is nigh at last!” the shouty guy yelled. “And as for our sacrificial victim: know that your death is not in vain, for with your blood we shall obtain the power to change the world!” He grabbed a knife from within his robes and Juleka’s eyes widened; despite everything she realized that on some level she hadn’t thought these losers would actually do it. “Have you any last words before your soul is sent to the realm of the demons?”

Juleka debated a dozen different responses, but none seemed right–she wasn’t going to beg and plead with these morons, or even threaten them; there was no point and she wouldn’t satisfy them by looking angry or terrified. So she settled on, “You’re holding that knife wrong.”

“What?” The robed guy seemed to have been knocked out of his spiel. “I–no I’m not! The pointy end–”

“If you’re going to sacrifice someone, you grip it differently,” said Juleka in an annoyed tone. “You’re holding it backwards, like you’re going to stab up at someone. For a sacrifice you aim the knife down at the sacrificial altar. And you use a different knife in the first place, one specifically for rituals.”

The other robed guys stared at the leader as he fumbled with his blade. “This is a ritual blade!” he insisted.

“Ritual blades are made of special materials and don’t have serrated edges like that,” Juleka said. “That's… dude, I think that’s a steak knife.”

Everyone froze. “It is not!” the lead guy yelled at last. “It is magic! Look, this sigil on the hilt we could not decipher–”

“That’s the logo of the cutlery store down the street,” Juleka noted. 

All of the other robed guys looked at each other. “How do you know so much about knives?” one asked Juleka.

Because my Mom has one and every so often she insists on telling me about how she dated a coven leader one time and has her ritual dagger to prove it, Juleka thought. It’s the story that comes after the 'I dated a pirate and here’s the scimitar to prove it’ one and before the 'I dated a magician who I think might have had actual fey lineage and here’s some other sword to prove it’ one. 

Juleka loved her mother dearly, but she had to admit that Anarka was… not entirely moored in reality at times. 

“No! She knows nothing!” the leader raved before Juleka could answer. “And besides, I know the knife is real! I bought it on EBay from a genuine wizard; it said so right in his seller profile!” The leader took a breath. “I mean, come on, do you really think I would have spent eight hundred francs on a ritual dagger that was forged in the fires of Hell itself if there was any chance it was just a steak knife?”

“Based on what I know of you,” said Juleka, “I think you’d spent your life savings on a rock if a guy with a mysterious accent told you it could give you magic powers, but would only work once he took all your money and left town so you couldn’t get a refund.”

“She’s got you there, dude,” said another of the robed guys.

The leader roared something inarticulate. Then he slashed down and cut Juleka’s cheek, just enough to draw a trickle of blood that spilled down and touched the pentagram. And then, to Juleka’s amazement, the circle actually began to glow and hiss. “We’re doing it!” gasped the leader. “See? I was right! This works!”

Juleka felt herself growing warm as the pentagram heated up. The blood suddenly ignited and Juleka cringed away from it, but the only place to hide was the pentagon in its center, and the smoke from the burning goat blood was all drifting there despite the absence of a breeze in the dingy basement. She was forced to roll into the pentagon and hide against one of its edges as the smoke coalesced. “Demon, we summon you!” the leader was yelling. “We bid you speak your name! Have we summoned the mighty Asmodeus? The brilliant Mephistopheles? The great Balphagor? The–”

A crack of thunder sounded and the smoked cleared, revealing the shape of a girl a little shorter than Juleka. The figure had horns, red skin, small wings sticking out of her back, and a tail with a spade on the end, but otherwise looked like a regular girl. In fact, she looked like a very familiar girl to Juleka. She had red hair, a beauty mark on her face, glasses, a red-and-white checkered shirt–

Wait.

“Um, Alya?” Juleka managed. “What’s going on?”

The redhead didn’t seem to notice her as she spread her arms and beamed at the robed guys. “You have summoned the demon Alya Cesaire!” she said. “Are you prepared to trade your immortal souls in exchange for great power?”

“Oh yes!” said the robed leader. “And we even prepared a sacrifice for you, oh mighty demon!” He pointed. “You can rip out her heart whenever you want!”

Alya glanced down, then froze. “Juleka?” she said. “Is that you? What are you doing?”

“Being sacrificed by these idiots, apparently.” Juleka briefly wondered if she was going crazy, but this didn’t seem like the kind of thing she’d hallucinate. Somehow, someway, Alya Cesaire had teleported in and at least appeared to be a demon. Maybe this was some weird akuma, or a new miraculous user with a demon theme for some reason (although Juleka personally felt that if anyone got a 'demon’ miraculous it would be LIla Rossi), but whatever was going on, it was really happening. So she’d just have to find some way to deal with it. “Alya, what’s going on? What are you doing?”

“They summoned me–” Then Alya caught herself. “Wait, no no no, you’re not supposed to know about me! Oh no, Nora is going to slaughter me…”

Everyone stared at Alya as she took a few breaths, suddenly looking less like a demonic tempter and more like an unhappy teenager who was about to get grounded. “How do you know these guys?” Alya asked Juleka at last.

“I don’t! They said they were looking at occult stuff, so I came by and they jumped me when I showed up!” Juleka insisted. “I don’t know them!”

Alya stared at her, and Juleka saw a truly frightening look of anger cross the girl’s face for a brief moment before Alya turned back to the cultists. “Did you seriously just try to sacrifice a random stranger to me?“ 

"…yes?” said the leader. “I mean, we’re not going to sacrifice someone we like–”

“It’s not a sacrifice unless you sacrifice someone you like!” said Alya, sounding both angry and exasperated. “The whole point of this is you’re promising to forswear any earthly attachments in order to devote yourself to demonic causes, you idiot! You can’t just kill some random stranger to do that! If it’s not someone close to you, someone where it’d mean something for you to betray them and give them up, there’s no point!”

“So,” said Juleka, “what you’re saying is, if Luka was going to sacrifice me for some reason, you’d be cool with it.”

Alya looked down at her with a hurt expression. “I mean, not you specifically, but…” She caught herself and quickly coughed before turning back to the cultists.  “I can’t accept this sacrifice,” the demon said more loudly. “I–”

“You have to!” crowed the lead cultist. “We summoned you. It’s a bargain, and you can’t leave until you take the sacrifice and give us the powers we want! And if you don’t do what we want we’ll cast spells on you to hurt you!”

“That isn’t how that works!” Alya rolled her eyes. “The only power you have is the power I give you! You can’t use it against me or I’ll just take it back! Devil below, did you put even five minutes of thought into this?" 

"You have to!” repeated the leader. “Or you can’t leave. Look, we don’t care if you take the girl, but give us our powers already!”

The demon and the cultist leader stared at each other for a long time. Finally, Alya said, “And what powers do you want, exactly?”

“All of them!” said one of the other cultists.

“Yeah, you’re going to need more than one sacrifice for that,” Alya snarked. 

“Then we’ll start with just one.” The cultist leader grinned. “I know. The one we discussed earlier. Make girls like us!”

The other cultists nodded. “Yeah, I need a girlfriend,” said one. “Someone who doesn’t care about dumb illogical stuff like 'showering,’ and who doesn’t mind me playing games with my friends all night.”

“Why just one?” The lead cultist rubbed his hands together. “You, demon. Make us irresistible to girls in general. We’re smart; we deserves harems!” He chuckled. “Oh, and we can have them wrestle to see who gets to spend each night with us!”

Alya exchanged astonished and exasperated glances with Juleka. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “You–”

“I read there was this Chinese emperor who had a harem of a thousand girls,” said another cultist. “So many that when he wanted to go on a date he had a donkey take his carriage around the harem quarters and just dated whichever women was closest when the donkey stopped, so the women put out salt and carrots and stuff to make his donkey stop by them. Give us the power to have that many girls!”

Alya shut her eyes for a long moment. “I might be able to do something,” she said at last. Her tone was a bit off and Juleka noted that this was how Alya sounded when she was lying, but the cultists didn’t seem to realize that. Alya went on to say, “But not with me in here and you out there. Step into the pentagram and I can give you power.”

The leader grinned. One of his subordinates said, “Hey, aren’t we supposed to stay outside that thing?”

“It’s fine. The demon knows who’s boss,” said the leader as he entered. (Juleka managed to roll over so she had a good view of the guy; she figured Alya was about to wreck him and wanted to see it when that happened.) “And maybe she’s charmed by me. After all, I did summon her, and it’s not like I’m a bad catch. I speak fluent Klingon and–”

Alya surged forwards as soon as the guy got into the pentagram, then rammed her hand into the guy’s chest. Juleka gasped but no blood leaked out, and then Juleka realized that Alya had somehow phased her hand into his body without harming his physical self. The guy cried out, and then Alya withdrew her hand holding a greenish-brown ball of light about the size of a billiard ball. “I do need to take a soul before I can leave here,” she said. “Fortunately, yours qualifies." 

"That’s my soul?!” gasped the lead cultist. “Hey, give that back! I–”

“Nope. Mine.” Alya grinned, and Juleka’s eyes widened as she saw that the girl had fangs in this form. She then looked at the captured soul thoughtfully and said, “Of course, one soul is fine, but five are better.”

“Five?” said one of the other cultists while the leader just gaped dumbly at his missing soul. “Well, we’re not going in there, so–”

Alya chuckled. “No problem.” She tapped the captured soul and it seemed to glow a little more brightly. “Break this pentagram,” she ordered–and the leader stiffened before mechanically walking over to the pentagram and scuffing out a section of the bloody lines with his foot.

The cultists yelled and began to run. Alya glanced down at Juleka and said, “Be right back,” before blasting after them. Juleka could only watch as Alya’s wings flared and she leapt, hands curled into claws, on top of the slowest fleeing cultist and ripped out his soul too. Then she threw some kind of fireball–Hellfire?–at the stairs, blasting them out and cutting off the cultists’ escapes from the basements, before she jumped at another. 

The battle was over in less than a minute, at which point Alya–now casually juggling five ball-like souls in one hand–ordered the cultists to 'sit down and shut up’ before hurrying back to Juleka and slashing the ropes with her talon-like fingers. “Are you okay?” Alya asked quickly. “Did they hurt you?”

“Not too bad.” Juleka managed. She stood and stretched before backing up a step and looking at her demonic friend. “So. Um…”

Alya hesitated, and then her head dropped. “Yeah,” she said in a voice that actually sounded sad. “I know. You know about me and now you’re scared and you think I’m awful and–”

“Hold on,” said Juleka quickly. “I’m not afraid of…” The word 'monsters’ seemed rude, so Juleka looked for a better one. “…unusual people,” she said at last. And it was true. She didn’t know exactly what Alya’s deal was, but now that her life wasn’t at stake, she wasn’t feeling nearly as scared anymore. Not scared enough to lose faith in a friend, even one with a demonic appearance, anyways. “I mean, you did save me from these guys–thanks for that–and we’re friends, so–”

“We’re still friends?” Alya asked quickly. “Really?”

“Of course, and–agh!” Juleka flinched as Alya rushed to hug her. The girl smelled like sulfur and brimstone, which Juleka decided really shouldn’t have been that surprising. Despite herself, Juleka felt a small smile coming to her mouth as she hugged Alya back. “Yes. We’re still friends. ”

Alya grinned. “You’re the best, Juleka.”

Juleka nodded, then saw something. “Um, Alya?”

“Yes?”

“I think you just dropped one of your souls.” She pointed at the ball of light–this one a brownish-black–which had just fallen out of Alya’s hands and was rolling away towards what looked like a small hole in the floor. “So-”

“Agh!” Alya immediately sprang for the soul. Juleka wasn’t sure what Alya planned to do with it in the end, but she hoped it was something mean. The guy had tried to murder her, after all. “Bad soul! No running away! I need you to make my quota!" 

Juleka couldn’t help but giggle as Alya gave chase. This might not have started out as her day… but her life had been saved, she’d discovered an amazing secret about her friend, and things were starting to look up.

Chapter 2

Juleka had taken a few minutes to rest on the (gross) couch and munch a pudding pop from the cultists’ fridge while Alya fixed the summoning pentagram. "Just need to drop them off,” she had said cheerily. “Be back in a minute.” And then she’d vanished in a puff of smoke and brimstone along with the souls.

“So,” Juleka had said after a little bit. “Are you guys, uh, okay?”

The cultists gave her blank looks that were… well, 'soulless’ was probably how Juleka would describe it. 

“Meh.” Juleka finished her pudding, then looked in the fridge again and grabbed a soda. “You guys deserve it.”

Alya reappeared with a flourish and another blast of sulfur. “Alright!” she chirped to the guys. “Your souls are now safely stored in my demesne Down Below. I'l be in touch with your orders.” She turned to Juleka and seemed to hesitate for a moment before catching herself. “Want to get out of here?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Juleka rose. At the same time, Alya shimmered and then her body took on the form Juleka was familiar with–no horns, no wings, no tail, and skin that was brown and definitely not red. “Let’s go.”

As they left the house, Juleka glanced back at Alya. Her mind was bursting with questions and she barely knew where to start. “So, uh–”

“You weren’t just saying that before, right?” Alya asked suddenly. “About still being friends with me despite, you know…?”

“Of course I wasn’t just saying it.” Juleka paused. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to be friends with someone that went around hurting innocent people, but the only people I saw you hurt were the guys that tried to kill me. And I know you. I can’t imagine you ever hurting an innocent. As long as you’re only going after really bad people like those guys, I don’t care.”

Alya let out a breath. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said, and Juleka thought she sounded sincere. “That's… that means a lot.” She managed a smile. “I’m sure you have questions.”

“More than a few.” Juleka considered, then went for one of the simplest ones. “So when you get someone’s soul, you just order them around? Can you control them directly?”

“Not exactly. It’s not like how Max can program Markov to run certain programs or take specific actions. But when I get someone’s soul I can influence their personality: make them more aggressive, or lazy, or hedonistic, or whatever. We do that to push humans on the paths we want for them. One of the things we can influence is loyalty, so I made those guys loyal to me. There’s limits–I won’t be able to get him to rob a bank or jump off a cliff, because his loyalty won’t be able to override his self-preservation or sanity or whatever–but within reason, now they’ll obey what I say.”

“Hmm.” Juleka paused. “And… just to be clear, you’re an actual demon. Like, this isn’t a really weird akuma or something.”

Alya giggled. “No akuma. No miraculous. Just 100% grade-A demon here. If you have a copy of Dante’s Inferno I can show you the exact circle I was born in.”

“Not necessary,” said Juleka, and the two girls exchanged grins. Then Juleka asked her next question. “So if you’re a demon have you… I don’t know… met the Devil?”

Alya laughed louder. “You’re French; that doesn’t mean you hang out with the Prime Minister,” she said. “I saw the big boss a couple times, including when I got assigned to Paris, but no more than that. Of course, if I do a good job here I could get a promotion.”

“Why are you in Paris specifically?”

“Well…” Alya paused. “Honestly, I got assigned here because I’m junior and the more senior demons filled up the other postings. Not a lot of demons want Paris these days. You can probably guess why.”

Juleka could. “The miraculouses?”

“Right. Historically, some miraculous users were known to go full paladin and strike down tons of demons. So all the demons want jobs in London, or Shanghai, or Abuja, or America–places without miraculous users. I got sent here because they needed someone and I was what was left.” Alya frowned. “But I’m going to do a good job. I’ll impress my superiors and show them all.”

“What exactly is your job?” Juleka thought back. “You mentioned a quota.”

“I just have to bring in so many souls a month,” said Alya. “That’s basically it.”

Juleka nodded. “And I’m guessing you can’t just run around yanking them out of people’s chests whenever you want.”

“Right. I can only 'yank’ the souls of people who make a souls-for-power deal with me, or who are like those cultists and do something evil enough that I can take their soul right away instead of having to wait for them to die–that’s in Dante’s Inferno too, actually, the story about Fra Alberigo–or in a few other circumstances.” Alya waved a hand. “There’s a bunch of rules. So my job is to get people to make a deal or otherwise break one of those rules so I can get their soul.” She smiled. “It’s fun work. Challenging too, since everyone’s different and needs a different strategy to tempt them.”

“What kinds of people do you usually focus on?”

“Well…” Alya’s eyes twinkled. “You know how the news is always wondering why Hawkmoth only akumatizes random people and doesn’t go after professional criminals, people who are already really evil and would work with him willingly?”

Juleka hesitated. “He worked with a criminal one time, when we were in New York.”

“Okay, but just looking at Paris. It’s like he can’t pick criminals. Why do you think that is?”

Juleka got it. “You get to the criminals first. When someone does something so evil it shows they’d probably be willing to work with Hawkmoth, you get their soul and then make them loyal to you and order them not to accept his akumas.”

Alya beamed. “Yep. I get the souls, and Hawkmoth loses a fighter–which means Ladybug is less active and there’s less chance of her discovering me. Win-win.” She paused. “There’s a rumor that a demon was assigned to tempt Hawkmoth and Mayura full-time; get their souls and make them use their miraculousness for Hell instead of whatever their real goals are. But if that’s true, I don’t know who the demon is.”

“Huh. Well, on behalf of Paris–thanks for screwing over Hawkmoth. We appreciate it.”

Alya grinned.

They stopped at the Dupain-Cheng bakery for snacks–Alya bought several pastries, murmuring to Juleka that as a demon she didn’t technically need to eat but she loved the taste of the Dupain-Cheng’s food, while Juleka got some lemon bread and a few Japanese sweets called mochi which she knew Luka liked–and then headed for Alya’s house. Juleka was a little nervous about going into a demon’s lair, but she figured that if there was a giant portal to Hell in the living room or something, Marinette would have noticed during one of her sleepovers at her best friend’s house and mentioned it. “Do you have any cool powers besides the soul thing?” she asked.

“I might,” said Alya in a teasing voice. “Let’s get to my room and I’ll show you.”

Alya let them in and then hurried Juleka into her room. “Is the rest of your family, uh, like you?” Juleka asked as Alya pushed her inside.

“Just Nora. Marelan and Otis couldn’t have kids, and so they made a deal with one of my bosses. In exchange for being able to have Etta and Ella, they’d agree to provide covers for two demons who would be based in Paris. The demon said yes, Marlena and Otis had the twins, and a few years later it was time to make good on their promise, so they took in Nora and I.” Alya shrugged. “It works pretty well. They know they aren’t allowed to interfere in our soul-collecting, but other than that they look after us okay.”

“Is Nora your real sister, or is that part of your cover?” Juleka looked around Alya’s room as Alya shut the door behind them. It certainly didn’t look like the room of a powerful demon who could literally rip out the souls of sinners. But of course Alya didn’t look like such a demon either, at least in her human guise. Looks could be deceiving.

“No, she’s my real sister. And she’s kind of protective of me, which is why it’s probably better if she doesn’t know you know about me.” Alya stretched, then snapped her fingers and dispelled her human glamour. “Ah. Much better.” She stretched again, and Juleka watched in amazement as her wings and tail flared. “Those get so cramped under the glamour.”

Juleka moved a little closer. “Do you mind if I, uh, take a closer look?” Alya gave her a curious look and Juleka blushed. “Sorry, but I find this stuff really cool and–”

“Go right ahead!” Alya beamed and Juleka wondered if she was just happy to have a human friend who thought her true appearance was neat and not scary. Juleka leaned in and marveled at her wings and her waggling tail. “What do you think?”

“I think you’ve got a pretty awesome body,” said Juleka before she realized how that sounded. Alya burst into laughter, Juleka couldn’t help giggling too. “I meant the wings and stuff! Seriously, I’d love to have wings. Flying sounds awesome.”

Alya hesitated, and Juleka blinked. “What, can’t demons fly?”

“We can, but…” Alya blushed, her already-red skin darkening. “It’s kind of embarrassing…”

Juleka got it. “Demons in general can fly, but you specifically can’t.”

“I’ll be able to!” Alya insisted. “My wings just aren’t done growing yet!” Juleka grinned. “I’m serious!” Alya went on.

“Of course you are,” said Juleka neutrally. Alya didn’t seem too put out by the teasing, and Juleka guessed that maybe she was just relieved Juleka was still willing to joke with her instead of freaking out and worrying that Alya would damn her over some tiny slight. “I’m sure you’ll be able to fly. Someday. Far in the future.”

“If you keep teasing me I won’t show you any of my cool demon powers,” Alya sniffed. “And some are really awesome.”

Juleka sat down on the bed. “I’ll be good,” she said, though she was unable to hide her smile. “I saw you throw a fireball at one of those guys–”

“Yeah, I can summon Hellfire!” Alya snapped her fingers and a bright ball of flame, about the size of one of the souls she’d taken from the cultists, appeared in her talon-like hands. (And now that Juleka looked closer, she saw that Alya’s feet were cloven). “This stuff is great. Burns hotter than human flame, and it’s perfect for barbecues. Seriously, meat grilled over this stuff is awesome.”

“Can you possess people?” Juleka asked. “Like in the movies?”

“Some demons can but I’m not good at it.” Alya summoned more balls of fire and began to idly toss them around. “I’m okay at Whispers, though.”

Juleka blinked. “Whispers?" 

"Have you ever been talking to a friend or family member and then heard a little voice in the back of your head saying something like, 'they don’t really mean it when they say they like you, they’re just pitying you, and as soon as they can find someone better they’ll abandon you?’ Things like that?”

“Uh…” Juleka couldn’t deny it. That had been worse before Marinette had fixed her photo curse problem, but she did sometimes have to fight off the fear that Rose and the others were only hanging out with her to show her charity. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Sometimes–not always, but sometimes–that’s a demon. Here’s how mine sounds.” Alya focused on Juleka, and her eyes grew a little redder. And then–

Juleka heard a voice in the back of her head. “Juleka,” it hissed in that familiar tone of cynical wisdom, the voice of a grizzled elder cutting through nonsense and delivering the hardest of truths. “You are a bad person. You must redeem yourself by buying more cookies at the Dupain-Cheng bakery for Alya–”

The goth snickered at that and threw a pillow at Alya, who cheerily ducked and impaled it on her left horn. Then Juleka mimed holding her hands straight out as if she were a zombie and meandered in the direction of the door like she was really about to do it. Alya burst into laughter as she removed the pillow from her horn. “Hey, stop, I wasn’t serious! And I’ve already got cookies. I go to her bakery every day.”

Before Juleka could respond, the door slammed open. “I heard noises, sis,” said Nora as she strode in. “What’s going–”

Her eyes flicked to Alya, still in her demon form, and then Juleka. Her face twisted into rage. “Human!” she hissed as she surged forwards, and by the time she’d grabbed Juleka by her collar and slammed her against a wall her body had shifted into a greenish lizard-like thing with four arms, bright yellow eyes, and a forked tongue. Her new form reminded Juleka of a yuan-ti from that Dungeons and Dragons game the cultists had been playing when she’d walked in on them. “Alya, what are you doing?!” Nora demanded. “We can’t show ourselves to humans! What if she calls a paladin or an angel!”

Juleka choked and struggled to escape, but Nora’s demon form was apparently even stronger than her human one and she couldn’t move. Then Alya was rushing towards them. “No, it’s cool! Some idiot cultists summoned me and tried to kill her, but I dealt with them. And hey–I got five souls, I’m ahead of quota–”

“Don’t change the subject!” Nora yelled. “And don’t take her word for things either! Do you really believe she just happened to be there when the cultists summoned you? What if she’s a paladin trying to get in close so she can banish you?”

Nora, Juleka recalled, was sometimes overprotective of her sister. This was apparently one of those times. “I’m not a paladin,” she managed in a deadpan voice. “Seriously.”

“So you say now, but I’ll make you tell the real truth.” Nora’s grip tightened and Juleka winced. Alya opened her mouth to object, but Nora cut her off. “Sis, you know I’m looking out for you. We can’t have humans knowing who we are. So let’s just lock her in the basement until I get the truth out of her and she also agrees to give up her soul in exchange for letting her out. Then you make her super loyal to you so she never talks. Or we just go the other way and have Marlena and Otis move across town and change our identities so she can’t sell us out.”

Juleka thrashed more. “I’m not going to tell anyone!” she insisted instead. “Alya’s a friend, I wouldn’t sell her out!”

Nora gave Juleka an astonished stare and Alya smiled a little. “She means it, sis.”

“We can’t trust that. And even if she’s serious now, these are long-term covers. What happens if in five years you guys have a falling out?” Nora shook her head. “It’s not safe. There’re rules against this for a reason.”

“Those rules have exceptions,” Alya pointed out.

“Yeah–for humans that form cults to worship us and make us stronger. Is she planning on being the high priestess of the Cult of Alya Cesaire or something?”

Alya hesitated. “Uh… yes,” she said. “That’s what she wants to be.”

Juleka swiveled her head to stare at Alya in surprise, but then Nora shoved her into the wall again and Juleka got it–if they could bluff Nora into believing this, the chances of Nora trying to rip out her soul or something would go way down. “Totally,” Juleka lied. “That’s why I was with the cult. I was like, 'I want to find a demonic overlord to pledge my loyalty to,’ and they seemed onboard with that, but then they tied me up and tried to use me to summon Alya. Once she saved me, of course, she earned my undying love and devotion.”

Despite the situation, Juleka saw Alya visibly stifling giggles as she turned away. But Nora was less familiar with Juleka and couldn’t pick up on her sarcasm. “Really,” she said. “That’s your story.”

“Uh huh. I even practiced chanting for hours.”

Juleka wondered if that last line was too much, but Nora gave her a long look before dropping her and stalking over to her sister. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said. “I’ve got a nose like a bloodhound. I could follow you across the English Channel.” Then she grabbed Alya and dragged her out of the room.

Juleka took advantage of Nora’s absence to take a breath and then try to think through her story in more detail. She didn’t know anything about being the high priestess of a demon cult, but she imagined it couldn’t be too hard–some chanting here, some praising the demon there, maybe lighting candles or setting off fireworks on whatever the demonic equivalent of Christmas was. (Although, she somehow doubted Alya actually wanted those things.) And besides, this was just a blufff for Nora. She wouldn’t have to actually go through with it–

The door banged open again as Nora came back in with Alya behind her. “So,” Nora said. “Juleka, right? Why do you want to lead my sister’s cult? What’s in it for you?”

“Uh–”

“Magic?” Nora snapped her fingers and summoned some Hellfire of her own, though her fireball was much larger, about the size of a basketball. “I mean, that’s possible, but I think it’s best we’re all on the same page. Wouldn’t be good if you wanted something she couldn’t give you.”

Juleka opened her mouth, then hesitated. Magic was awesome and she’d love to have the chance to cast spells, but she wasn’t sure if she should say that. Nora still seemed volatile and Juleka figured there were probably 'wrong’ answers to this question which would be very bad for her.

“Or other kinds of power?” Nora went on. “Gold smelted in the fires of Hell? Demons have plenty of that. Or political power? Maybe a boost to your blog? Are you here because you want Alya to get Nadja Chamack’s soul and then induce her to promote you all over Paris?”

Juleka glanced at Alya for just a moment and noticed how nervous the other demon seemed. But then Nora went on. “Or do you want Alya to smite your enemies? Like Hawkmoth, or that Marinette girl who brought you on as a model and then made you so nervous you got re-akumatized into Reflektdoll?” Nora clenched a fist. “Well?”

“Um.” Juleka paused, having no idea what to say. If she got it wrong she was in real trouble, and…

And so why not just tell the truth?

Juleka gulped. “I, uh… I mean, all that stuff sounds cool but it’s not why I’m here. And honestly, I didn’t go to the cult hoping to meet a demon either. I found out about Alya’s whole, uh, demon thing by accident. But she’s a friend, a really good one, and I’m not going to abandon her. And so if being her 'high priestess’ is the only way I can keep my soul and stay her friend without you, I don’t know, changing covers so I never see her again or wiping my mind or something, that’s what I want to do." 

Nora stared at Juleka with a stunned look, and then her tongue darted out. "I don’t taste any deceit,” she murmured. “I…”

“See?” said Alya, looking relieved. “I told you she’s legit. You can relax.”

The bigger demon struggled for a moment before growling and saying, “Fine. Bind her properly, sis. Don’t screw it up. I’ll check on you later–I’ve almost got Roundhouse Ron’s soul, and if I can get him to throw the match tonight it’ll be as good as mine. But when I’m done I’ll be back.” She stalked out.

Alya ran to Juleka’s side and hugged her. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I know Nora can be rough–”

“It’s okay. Not your fault.” Juleka returned the hug. “So. Apparently I’m your new high priestess.”

Alya’s skin somehow grew even redder as she blushed again. “We don’t, uh, have to go through with that if you don’t want. I’ll make up some story for Nora.”

But then Alya might get in trouble, Juleka thought. And she’d might never see her friend again if Alya were forced to change covers. “What would it entail?” Juleka asked.

Alya blinked. “Uh… well, there’s a magic spell I’d cast and we’d exchange blood. You’d become bound to me. I’d be able to lend you magic power, and when you 'worshipped’ me I’d get stronger. You’d be responsible for worshipping me on a regular basis, eventually bringing other people into the cult, and helping me to enact my will–that is, capture souls.”

“Any risks?” Juleka asked. “Would I lose my soul?”

“No. I mean, technically I’d be supposed to constantly tempt you into giving it up–that’s the usual reason most demons do things like this, most other demons don’t like humans and only loan them a little power to ensnare people who are too clever to just lose their souls the usual ways–but I wouldn’t do that. Um, if you ran into a paladin or angel they might notice that I’d marked you and want to smite you. It’s not likely unless you’re actively using demonic magic, but it’s a risk, so I get if you don’t want to do it. Like I said, I’ll lie to Nora–”

“I’ll do it,” said Juleka at once.

Alya stared. “Really?”

“Sure. It doesn’t sound too bad, as long as I get to keep my soul. And… and you’re a friend. I don’t want Nora to take you away. And this is sort of my fault anyways for getting captured by those morons. If this is the way to stop you leaving, let’s do it.”

Alya was still for a moment before a genuine grin burst onto her face. “Alright,” she said. “Here we go.”

She got a ritual knife–a real one this time–from her desk and then had Juleka sit cross-legged across from her on her bed while she summoned a ball of Hellfire between them. She murmured several words in what sounded like Latin, then motioned for Juleka to put her hand in the fire. Juleka cautiously did so, but whatever spell Alya had muttered prevented it from burning her. Alya used her knife to cut into her palm, forming a trickle of sizzling blood, before doing the same to Juleka’s hand and then clasping it in the flames.

Juleka gasped. Suddenly she felt as if power were surging into her, power that clutched at her mind and screamed at her to use it to do whatever she wanted, smashing up her enemies and building palaces of molten gold for herself and–

She caught the thoughts and forcibly pushed them away. Then Alya dropped her hand and when Juleka looked at her palm there was a strange sigil instead of a scar. “There!” said Alya. “You’re my high priestess now. It’s official.” She beamed. “I can’t wait to tell Asmodeus. He told me when I started taking soul-catching lessons that I’d never be good enough to start a cult. And here I am, one of the first in my class!”

“Great,” managed Juleka as she uneasily got up. Power was still surging through her and she felt heady. “Woah. That’s a rush. Um, do I need to worry about accidentally setting off fireballs or anything?”

“I haven’t given you any magic yet, just the potential to cast it once I do,” said Alya. “So no.”

“Okay.” Juleka took a breath. “And this worship thing. What does that involve?”

Alya hesitated. “You know, worship,” she said at last. “Spending time being devoted to me. Making me happy. I’ll do the same for you of course–we’re friends–but when you do it to me, I’ll grow stronger and then be able to give you more magic.”

“But specifically,” Juleka pushed. “How do I be 'devoted to you?’ That’s pretty broad.”

 "I don’t know,“ Alya admitted. "I’ve never, uh, actually had a cult before. I didn’t think I’d be strong enough to make one.” She glanced away. “Just… whatever’s traditional, I guess.”

“Ah.” Juleka tilted her head, then smiled wryly. “Well, based on Hollywood movies–which I’m going to assume are totally accurate–I think the tradition here is for me to take you into a drafty catacomb, light some smelly incense, chant in Latin neither of us understand, and talk a lot about how someday the rivers will run red with the blood of your enemies.”

Alya blanched. “Please don’t.”

Juleka’s smile grew. “I could also dress up in stupid clothes and wander around yelling prophecies that the dread lord Alya will slay all who do not bow before her. I could form a 'Satanist’ metal band and yell that everyone who didn’t buy my merchandise with your face on it would burn. I could–”

Alya burst into laughter and threw a pillow at her. “As your new demon queen I hereby order you to not do anything so ridiculous I’d get laughed out of Hell.”

“Or,” said Juleka, still beaming, “Seeing as how you told Nora you’re caught up on your soul quota and don’t have anything to do for awhile, I could rent us a couple movies about exorcists and demons. Then we could watch them together, eat popcorn, do each other’s hair, and laugh about everything the films get wrong. Would that count as being 'devoted to you’ and 'making you happy?’”

“I…” Alya smiled. “I think it would. And seeing as how literally no other cultist I’ve ever heard of would have come up with that–seriously, most of those guys love Latin chants, except they don’t know Latin so they just recite random phrases and usually wind up chanting that their togas got caught in their chariots or something–I think it’s safe to say you are officially a much better high priestess than all those other guys.”

She gave Juleka a hug, which the goth returned. And then she flopped down on her bed while Juleka got the movie set up. And as Juleka did so, she saw a contented look on Alya’s face and grinned.

It was nice to be someone’s friend. Especially a very unusual someone, such as a certain Alya Cesaire.

Chapter 3

Life as the high priestess of the Cult of Alya Cesaire, thought Juleka, was pretty similar to her life before taking on that role. She still went to school, did her homework, played music with Kitty Section, dated Rose, and helped Marinette’s various doomed attempts to win the heart of one Adrien Agreste. But now she was hanging out more with Alya too, and those hang-outs could be… interesting.

This was the case when, a few weeks after becoming high priestess, Juleka noticed that Alya was looking sluggish in school. She caught up with the girl at recess and asked, “What’s wrong? Can you, uh, get sick?”

“Not with human diseases, but there’s some demon ones that are a real bitch.” Alya wrinkled her nose, then sneezed into a tissue with an annoyed grunt. “Ugh.”

“Why don’t you go home?” Juleka asked. “I mean, your 'parents’ are just supposed to be looking after you for your bosses, right? They can’t actually ground you?" 

"They actually can. To 'maintain the cover,’” Alya smiled ruefully. “Wouldn’t look very realistic if I was just going around doing anything I wanted and they ignored it. I mean, I know Chloe’s dad does, but that’s because he’s a total idiot–it still doesn’t look right. But that’s not why I’m staying here.” She gestured at her bookbag, which Juleka saw had a thick notebook sticking out of it. “Today’s the study review session in Mendeleiev’s class, remember? And the test is next week. I can’t miss that.”

Juleka raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Yeah!” Alya sneezed again. “I mean, this is a long-term cover. I won’t be able to tempt people if I fail out of school and wind up living in an alley behind Marinette’s family’s bakery!”

Juleka gave Alya a long look.

“…and I like this stuff,” Alya admitted. “We don’t really have 'schools’ like this in Hell, just lessons on specific things like tempting people. It's… interesting being in this kind of place.” She gestured at the school around them. “I don’t want to screw it up.”

“Hmm.” Juleka tilted her head, then came to her decision. “Okay. As your high priestess, I’m making an executive decision and sending you home.”

Alya blinked. “I… I don’t think that’s how–”

“I’m supposed to look after you,” said Juleka. “So I’m ordering you to go home. I’ll take detailed notes at the study session and run them over to you once school’s out.”

Now Alya looked stunned. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course–ack!” Juleka winced as Alya wrapped her in a tight hug. She was confused for a moment–taking notes for others was pretty common, after all–before remembering that Alya was new up here. She wondered if maybe demons didn’t have 'friends’ in Hell, and that was why Alya kept being surprised and overwhelmed whenever Juleka behaved decently towards her. (And now that Juleka thought about it, she could recall Marinette having said similar things about how happy Alya seemed to get over the slightest kindnesses.) “No problem.”

“Thanks.” Alya broke the hug and began to run off. “I’ll be at home then. See you later!”

###

Juleka took copious notes, paying even more attention than she would have if she were only focusing on her own learning, and after school she headed out for Alya’s house. Before she got there, though, she was stopped by Rose. “Juleka!” chirped the short blonde, giving her girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. “Are you doing anything?I got tickets to the new fashion show down on the Champs Elysses and I was wondering if you wanted to go?”

“Wish I could,” said Juleka, taking a moment to hug her girlfriend and lose herself in the girl’s sweet perfume and sweeter personality. “But I’ve got a thing with Alya; she’s sick and I’m bringing her notes to study for next week’s test. Maybe tomorrow?”

“She is?” Rose gasped. “That’s awful. But it’s really nice of you to go help her study. You’re amazing, Juleka.” She gave Juleka another hug. “Tomorrow is fine. See you then!”

Rose ran off and Juleka headed over to the Cesaire house to see her friend. When she knocked on the door, though, it was Nora who opened it. “You,” she grunted. “Right, Alya told me. Come in.”

Juleka let the older demon usher her inside and then tried to go to Alya’s room, but Nora blocked her. “Wait,” Nora said. “My little sis is sick. You’re her high priestess. So here.” She thrust an ancient-looking book into Juleka’s arms, and when Juleka opened it to see tiny, spidery writing, the book let out what sounded like a pained moan. “Use this.”

“…how?” Juleka asked.

Nora glared at her, then flipped the book to a certain chapter. “A spell for healing sick demons,” she said. “Now that you’re her high priestess, only you can cast it on her. So do it. Or else I’ll eat your soul.” She stuck out her tongue, and it briefly flashed back to being forked and scaly before Nora restored her own glamour. “Got it?”

Juleka glanced down at the ingredients for the spell and almost gagged. The first three were goat’s blood, the heart of a lamb whose wool was pure-white, and the frayed end of a hangman’s noose; the rest were similarly baroque. “Got it,” she managed. “Make Alya feel better, check.”

“Good.” Nora finally let Juleka go. “And remember, Juleka: her welfare is your responsibility. If you screw up and my sister gets hurt, or banished, or something worse, I’m taking it out on you.” She clenched a fist and a ball of fire appeared above it. “Just so we understand each other. Now: get out of my way.” She stormed off, presumably–Juleka guessed–to go capture another soul from someone she knew as a boxer. Juleka watched her go and took a breath, then headed into Alya’s room.

“Hey!” Alya was lying on her bed in her demonic form, which now looked a bit blotchy and mottled. The base of Alya’s wings in particular were covered with some kind of splotchy growth, and as Juleka watched Alya tried to scratch them but couldn’t quite reach. “You okay? I mentioned you were coming over and Nora freaked out.”

“I’m fine,” said Juleka as she set down her bag. “Nora just told me to make you feel better. Apparently I’m supposed to… let me see…” She looked at the book. “Sprinkle you with goat’s blood, then puree the prepared heart of a lamb and have you drink it…” She flashed a wry smile. “Do you like your lamb heart prepared any particular way, o mighty demon?”

Alya groaned theatrically. “Agh! Nora’s cures for things are worse than the diseases. Please don’t do any of the goat’s blood or lamb’s heart stuff.” The two laughed. Then Alya reached at her back again but still couldn’t reach the splotches at the bases of her wings. “Stupid demon-rot…”

Juleka paused, then went over to the bed. “Here. Let me get that.” She sat down and began to gently scratch the splotches.

“You don’t need to… oh. Oh, yeah, right there.” Alya let out a sigh of contentment as Juleka massaged the inflamed and splotchy patches of skin on her back. “Oh, you’re awesome.”

Juleka smiled slightly as she continued to work on Alya’s back, as well as a couple of blotchy spots near the base of her horns too. The demon made contented noises, almost purrs, and her tail began to thump on the bed and against Juleka’s legs. “That better?” Juleka asked.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. You’re the best high priestess ever,” sighed Alya. “Way better than that stupid toady Asmodeus got that he never shuts up about.”

Juleka massaged Alya for about fifteen minutes until Alya declared she was feeling a lot better and needed to get to studying. Then they got the books out and began going over Juleka’s notes, with Juleka still giving Alya an occasional scratch or massage on one of her sore spots. 

“Best high priestess ever,” Alya repeated quietly, and Juleka couldn’t help but grin.

###

The next day, Juleka got a text from Alya that she was feeling much better. “I’m practicing with Kitty Section before the fashion show,” Juleka wrote back. “You can come by if you want.”

But by the time Alya had gotten there, practice had been canceled and Juleka was consoling a sobbing Rose. “It’s awful!” Rose was saying. “I can’t believe it happened again!”

“What’s wrong?” said Alya, now wrapped in her human guise, as she climbed onto the Liberty.

“That XY jerk stole our music again.” Juleka growled something inarticulate and hugged Rose more tightly. “And Bob Roth threatened to sue us for slander if we protest.”

“You should tell people anyways,” said Alya at once. “We’ll show him.”

Juleka shook her head. “The last time this happened, Luka got akumatized when he found out. We can’t risk that happening again.” She looked down. “We’ll figure something out, Rose. We can write another song.”

“Maybe…”

Alya hesitated, and then a faint smile crossed her face while Rose’s head was buried in Juleka’s arms. Juleka saw the smile and gave Alya a querying look, but Alya just waved it off. “Well, let me know if you want to go public; I’ll talk about it on the Ladyblog if you do,” she said. “Anyways, I just came by to say I couldn’t hang around for practice after all. Maybe next time. Later!” And she hurried off.

Juleka didn’t think too much about it until an hour later when, as she sat in her cabin with Rose on her lap while they ate ice cream and tried to think of a new song, Luka came in. “Hey, you guys hear? Something’s going down at Bob Roth’s studios.”

The two girls looked at each other and then Juleka opened up her laptop to see a news report. “Fire at a major studio!” Nadja Chamack was saying while Roth’s building burned behind her. “Preliminary reports are that a fire somehow ignited in the server room and destroyed most of the master recordings, including a new piece of music scheduled to debut later today. The fire then spread through the building–oh, Mr. Roth!” Bob Roth and XY had just burst out of the building as firemen ran into it. “Do you have any–”

“GET ME OUT OF HERE!” XY was screaming. “THIS PLACE IS HAUNTED!”

“Monsters!” Roth gasped. “A monster set everything on fire! Aaah!” And the two ran away.

Chamack blinked, then shrugged. “So to recap: a fire at a record studio appears to have driven famous pop musician XY and his manager Bob Roth into temporary states of insanity, as well as destroyed their new release. We’ll keep you informed. Now back to the station.”

“Hey,” said Rose as Nadja’s feed cut off. “If their recording was destroyed–that means they don’t have our music anymore! We can still release it and Roth can’t claim it was his first!”

Juleka smiled to herself. She had a pretty good idea of which 'monster’ had started that fire. “Yeah,” she said. “We can.”

Later, when Juleka was biking home, she happened to come across Alya and braked to stop near her. “Thanks,” she said.

Alya put on an innocent expression. “Who, me?” she said sweetly. “But I would never burn down a record studio! I’m very innocent and gentle.”

Juleka laughed at that, and after a moment Alya followed suit. “Hey, just like you look after me, I’m supposed to look after you,” Alya said. “I’d lose all my cred if I let someone mess with my high priestess. You guys practicing tomorrow?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I’ll be there. Unless Roth tries again.” Alya winked, and Juleka grinned at her once more before biking off.

###

Two days later, Juleka helped Alya capture a soul for the first time.

“Our target is Aurore Beaureal, the wannabe weather girl,” Alya said. Juleka was with her in her bedroom, and Alya was in her natural demon form. Juleka smiled as she Alya’s tail lashing around eagerly while Alya spread out a map over her bed. “She’s a prime target for soul-capturing.”

“She is?” Juleka asked. “Why?”

“Because she wanted to be the weather girl but Mireille bribed the guy running the contest to pick her instead,” Alya said. “All I have to do is tell her and she’ll be so angry she’ll make a deal with me to get revenge–and then I’ll get her soul.”

Juleka shook her head. “Wait, back up. Mireille bribed Cataldi?”

“Of course she did. What, did you think a half million people really voted in a competition for a local news show to pick a weather reporter?” Alya shook her head. “One of my demon powers is… I guess you could call it a 'sin’ sense. I can tell when people are doing corrupt or evil things, and when I saw Mireille that day she was practically glowing red to my eyes. So I knew she’d done something really bad, and after that I made a few guesses as to what it might be, then snuck into Alec Cataldi’s room and recorded him telling one of his goons how he was going on a shopping spree because Mireille had bribed him with so much money.”

It took a moment for Juleka to consider that fully. She didn’t know much about Mireille, although she had indeed found it odd that the weather girl had won the competition by so many votes. “Shouldn’t we be going after Mireille then?”

“I tried.” Alya frowned. “But her soul is… guarded, somehow. I can’t touch it. That usually means she’s pledged herself to another demon. Well, either that or an angel, but if she were with the angels she would have had to admit to what she did to Aurore and she hasn’t done that. So she has a different demon patron, probably the demon that’s preparing to go after Hawkmoth, and I don’t want to mess with that. We’ll take Aurore instead.”

“Why now?” Juleka asked.

“Because Mireille’s contract with the studio is almost up. If she wants to renew it she’ll need to win the next competition, which means she’ll be cheating Aurore out of it again.” Alya rubbed her hands together. “I just need to tell Aurore what’s going on and she’ll be putty in my hands.”

“Oh.” Juleka hesitated. “I’m, um, not really comfortable taking someone’s soul just because they’re mad about being cheated in a competition. I mean, those cultists were one thing because they tried to kill me, but…”

Alya waved a hand. “I’ll get her to agree to some really awful revenge on Mireille. Something damnation-worthy. I’ll make it work.”

Juleka wasn’t fully convinced, and she thought she heard something catching in Alya’s voice. The demon didn’t seem entirely comfortable with this either, and Juleka wondered if Alya was doing this more because she her superiors demanded damnation for even 'minor’ sins like Aurore’s anger, as opposed to Alya being truly convinced Aurore deserved it. “Are you sure?” Juleka asked gently.

“Sure I’m sure! Now come on!” Alya snapped her fingers to summon her glamour. “Aurore posted on her blog that she’ll be visiting the studio today to submit paperwork, and there’s all kinds of back hallways in that place. We’ll just catch her in one of them and get it done.”

She hurried out, and Juleka followed, though with clear unease on her face.

###

Juleka raised an eyebrow as Alya put on a hooded robe after sneaking them into the back hallways of the television studio. “In case she says no, I need to keep my cover,” Alya explained. “Besides, this makes me look more credible.”

“It really doesn’t,” Juleka said.

Alya stuck out her tongue. “Well, maybe not to you, but trust me–when you try to get someone to sell your soul, you can’t do it in jeans and a T-shirt. You need to look the part. Here.” She shoved a robe at Juleka. “I brought you one too.”

Juleka glanced at it, then pointedly dropped it. “What am I supposed to be doing here, anyways?”

“Right now, watch and learn. Eventually I might have you help me with temptations, but for the moment, I just want you to see how awesome I am.” Alya chuckled from beneath her hooded robe. “And–wait, those are her footsteps. Hide!” She pushed Juleka behind a stack of crates and then moved into a shadowy part of the hallway.

Soon enough a disgruntled-looking Aurore came up. “Why won’t they take my papers?” she growled as she glanced over an office map. “Last time was bad enough, but this time it’s like they don’t want me here!”

“They don’t,” intoned Alya in a low voice.

Aurore jumped and then swiveled to point her parasol in the general direction of Alya’s shadows. “Who was that?” she demanded. “I’m–I have an umbrella and I know how to use it!”

Juleka had to work to stifle her giggle.

Alya slipped out of the shadows, and as Juleka watched, Alya’s robe shuddered in an almost inhuman way. Juleka made a note to ask her how she did that. Then Alya spoke again, “I think you know they don’t want you here. Mireille bribed the host last year, and she did it again this year. Your application to compete won’t even be accepted. They’ll have Mireille run against a fake candidate who already agreed to take a dive, and thus she’ll win for sure.” Alya shook her head. “Such a shame.”

Aurore flushed. “Why should I believe you? You’re just a creepy person in a scary robe!”

“Am I?” Alya held up a phone, her hand briefly shifting into its natural state–red, with talon-like fingers–before blinking back to its human form again. Aurore boggled but didn’t flee–Juleka figured Aurore was trying to tell herself she was just seeing things–and then Alya hit a playback button on the phone. 

“…going to be eating steaks and sushi for a month!” Alec’s voice said. “That Caquet girl paid me so much I can really take it easy for a while!” He laughed. “Maybe I’ll finally get that sports jacket… nah, I’ll wait until Caquet wants to win something else and comes knocking again. Say what you like about her, she’s loaded!”

Aurore flushed a bright crimson. “I knew it. I knew that jerk cheated!” Her fist clenched, and she dropped the papers she’d been carrying. “I worked harder, I was better, I deserved to win! Just because she has money–agh!” She slammed her fist into the wall.

“It’s so unfair,” Alya agreed. “But I could help you get revenge.” She lowered her hood just enough to reveal her horns and red skin. Aurore gasped, but Alya said, “What? In a world with miraculouses and akumas, are you so surprised there are other powers out there?” She waited for Aurore to jerkily shake her head. “So, Aurore. Would you like my help?”

“And what do you want in exchange?” managed Aurore. 

“I think you know.” Alya moved closer to Aurore. “Your soul. But in exchange… revenge on Mireille, perhaps Alec too, the job as weather girl, and so much more.” She spread her hands. “Well?”

Aurore hesitated, and Juleka could tell she was really tempted. But then she shook her head. “No,” she said twice, first hesitantly, then more strongly. “I don’t–just forget it. No way. I’m not the kind of person who would do something like that.”

She turned, but Alya quickly moved around her to face her again. “Not so fast,” she said in a charming tone. “You don’t want to give up your soul; I get it. We can work something else out. In fact… I might be able to lend you a little magic help to get your revenge, just so you can see what I"m offering. No other charge.”

Juleka frowned, but then remembered that Alya had told her there were at least two ways for her to take a soul: either to get someone to explicitly make a deal with her in which they gave it to her, or to convince someone to do something evil enough that Alya could just take the soul without a deal. The first tactic had failed, so now Alya would be trying to get Aurore to agree to some really bad sin and thus allow Alya to get the soul that way.

“Magic?” repeated Aurore.

“Sure.” Alya leaned close. “For instance, if I gave you a certain power you could…” and her speech trailed off as she whispered something, presumably advice on how to use magic to do something really evil, into Aurore’s ear.

But rather than agree, Aurore stiffened and then shoved Alya back. “What? No way. I’d never do that, not even for revenge. I told you, I’m not that kind of person.” She scowled. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

“But–” Alya began.

“Why am I even talking to you? Get out of here before I call Ladybug.” Aurore backed away. “And–”

Then Alya’s phone went off.

Aurore and Alya both stared down at Alya’s pocket, and Juleka winced–Alya had a distinctive ringtone, a theme song from one of those shows following investigative reporters, and everyone knew it because her phone sometimes went off when she was filming Ladyblog stuff. “Uh,” said Alya. “Hang on–”

“Alya?” asked Aurore. “Is that you?”

“No!” Alya insisted as she reached for her phone, but Aurore was faster and swept out her umbrella to fully knock down the demon’s hood. That revealed her head, which–though red and with horns–was still noticeably that of Alya Cesaire. “Alya?” breathed Aurore. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m not Alya!” yelped the reporter. “You can’t prove–”

Aurore turned, said, “Stay away from me!” and began to run for the exit.

As soon as she had turned a corner Alya slammed her head against a wall. “Stupid stupid stupid!” she hissed. “I completely botched that!”

“Yeah,” Juleka noted. “You did.”

Alya shot her a mock glare, but it quickly dissolved into fear. “If she tells people I’ll have to move and change identities, assuming I don’t get recalled to Hell and punished, and without her soul I can’t influence her to–”

“Wait.” Juleka thought quickly. “I might be able to set her up so you can take her soul. But then you have to do me a favor.”

Alya blinked. “Sure, anything, but how can you–”

“No time.” Juleka grabbed the office map Aurore had dropped. “Just follow me at a distance. And 'watch and learn.’” She shot a faint smile at Alya, then took off at a run.

Aurore had a head start but no longer had a map, which meant Juleka was able to catch up to the lost girl before Aurore could find her way back into the inhabited parts of the station. She reached the blond’s position just before Aurore would have passed through an exit door, then grabbed a random object–a little ball that someone, probably Manon Chamack, had left lying around–and gently tossed it at Aurore’s head before ducking into an open office.

“Huh?” gasped Aurore as the ball bounced off her. She spun around. “What was that?”

“You are Rain Delay,” called Juleka in her lowest, most imposing voice, “And this is Hawkmoth. I–”

“Oh, come on!” complained Aurore. “What, are all the bad guys trying to tempt me today?”

Juleka smiled. Aurore had been akumatized, but seeing as how it was hard to remember what happened once Hawkmoth touched someone, that didn’t mean she knew what it was supposed to feel like. For all Aurore knew it was a simple 'butterfly bumps into you and turns you evil’ thing. Meaning she’d have no way of knowing Juleka was faking. “Tempt you?” she said. “Oh, no no no. I’m helping you get revenge. No need to thank me, just get me the jewelry, yadda yadda.”

“I’m not–”

“Yes you are,” said Juleka. “You already want to. Your anger is growing. Nobody can resist me.”

Aurore hesitated, and Juleka smiled; she’d figured Aurore correctly. Aurore hadn’t refused Alya’s offers because she was opposed to taking revenge; rather, she just didn’t want to feel like she was the kind of bad person who would agree to a demonic bargain in order to get said revenge. But everyone knew that nobody could resist Hawkmoth, which meant that it wasn’t anyone’s fault for getting akumatized. So all she had to do was convince Aurore that Hawkmoth was making her do something bad, and Aurore–now believing that anything evil she did wasn’t really her fault but just was Hawkmoth’s influence–would go along with it. 

And Aurore finally said, “…yes,” in a tight, angry voice as a cruel smile crawled across her face. “Give me power and I’ll destroy Mireille. I’ll bury her in a storm, I’ll drown her, and Alec, and–”

And then Alya slipped out of the shadows behind Aurore and easily pulled her soul out of her chest.

Aurore flinched and shuddered, then turned–and gaped at Alya holding a ball of blueish-gold light about the size of a billiard ball. “What–”

“Your soul,” said Alya by way of explanation. “Mine now.” She glanced in Juleka’s direction. “Well done, high priestess. Your help was useful.”

“Help?” said Juleka in a joking tone. She came out of the shadows–Alya had Aurore’s soul, so she could ensure Aurore didn’t tell anyone about her identity–and frowned. “Is that what we’re calling 'doing the whole thing?’”

Aurore reached for her soul, but her hand passed through it without making contact. “Give that back!” she insisted.

“Nope. Mine now.” Alya beamed. “I’ll be taking this Down Below and–”

“You can’t!” insisted Aurore. “That wasn’t fair! I’m sorry!”

Alya hesitated and Juleka saw real conflict on her face. The goth coughed. “Hey, Alya, remember that favor you said you’d owe me if I got you her soul?”

“Yeah?”

Aurore turned. “Wait, Juleka Couffaine, right?” she asked. “Why are you helping her do this?!”

“She’s my high priestess,” said Alya.

“She what?!” Aurore sputtered. “You can’t have a high priestess! You’re a demon! You–”

“Aurore,” said Juleka at once. “Hold on a minute. I need to say something to Alya.”

The blond scowled at her but stopped talking, and Juleka turned back to Alya. “My favor is: don’t take her soul down to Hell.”

Alya blinked. “But that’s the only reason I got it. To make my quota.”

“We can look for someone else to fill your quota, a real bad guy. I’ll help you. But don’t take hers down there.” Juleka paused. “She doesn’t deserve it, Alya. You know that.”

“Well… I mean, my bosses–”

“Your bosses want you to take every soul that just barely steps over the line,” Juleka guessed. “Because they’re jerks. But I don’t think you want to do that. Getting rid of really bad people so they can’t hurt others, or work with Hawkmoth, or do things like that is one thing. Aurore’s not like that." 

The two locked gazes for a moment before Alya said, "…maybe… I mean…”

“No maybe about it,” said Juleka. “You know damning her isn’t the right thing to do. Besdies, I’m your high priestess and we made a deal: I’d get you her soul so she couldn’t tell the world that Alya Cesaire is actually a demon temptress running around Paris, and in exchange you’d do something for me. Well, what I want you to do is not damn her.”

Aurore blinked. “Um–”

“But–but then what do I do with her soul?” Alya asked. “I can’t give it back or she’ll be able to talk to people about me!”

“Can’t you just keep it around?” Juleka asked. “In, I don’t know, a desk drawer or something?”

“Hey!” Aurore said. “I–”

“–were going to willingly ally with Hawkmoth,” said Juleka in a deadpan tone. “If you’d been successful you would have stolen the miraculouses and possibly helped Hawkmoth conquer the world. You’re getting off easy, Aurore.”

Aurore blushed a bright red, but then bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just–I worked so hard on the weather competition, and learning that Mireille cheated… but alright, I know I should have tried harder to resist 'Hawkmoth.’ Still, I don’t want Alya to mess with my soul!”

Juleka turned back to Alya. “As long as you don’t try to rewrite her personality, will you having her soul effect her?”

“No. I mean, there might be a few odd issues now and then, but nothing big. I do need to make her loyal so she doesn’t tell–”

Juleka swiveled again. “Aurore, if you tell anyone about Alya or me, she’ll have to move and change identities, and then you won’t be able to get your soul back from her because you won’t be able to find her. So you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

The blond quickly shook her head. 

“Great.” Juleka smiled at both of them. “Then there’s no need for Alya to 'mess with’ Aurore’s soul, about loyalty or anything else. Alya can just hang on to it until… I don’t know… Aurore demonstrates she’s not the type of person to work with Hawkmoth anymore, no matter how mad she gets.” She nodded. I’m glad we worked this out.“

Alya and Aurore both seemed like they wanted to argue, but neither could come up with anything. And that was that.

###

"This is weird,” Aurore said.

They had returned to Alya’s house and Alya had put Aurore’s soul on her dresser, where it lit up the immediate area with a gentle blue and yellow light. Aurore had tried to take it back, or at least poke it, but her hand just passed through it; Alya had explained that only those whom she allowed to touch it could do so now that it was hers. “This is so weird,” Aurore said. “I mean, I’m happy I’m not getting damned, but…”

“Alya will take good care of your soul,” Juleka promised. “I’ll make sure of it. We’ll polish it every week, maybe take it for walks on Fridays.” Alya playfully stuck out her tongue. “And hey, if you want to check in on it maybe you can come over now and then.” When Nora is away, Juleka thought. “We could have you over for girl’s night. Ooh, you could even join my cult.”

Alya brightened. “Yeah! We need more members.”

“…cult?” asked Aurore. “What, like chanting?”

“It’s mostly watching anime, eating ice cream, and telling dumb jokes,” said Juleka. Alya tossed a pillow at her, and she easily dodged it. “But if you really want to chant I can pencil that in somewhere.”

Aurore actually laughed a little at that. “No, that’s okay.” She paused. “Um, does the whole stealing-my-soul thing being… allowed to happen, I guess… mean I’m a really bad person?”

“It means you did a really bad thing,” said Alya. “I wouldn’t be able to take your soul otherwise.”

“But,” Juleka went on, “It doesn’t mean you’re irrevocably bad. That’s just for people who actually do get sent Down Below. You can get better. We’ll help.” She smiled gently. “And also have some fun. For instance: the meeting of the Cult of Alya Cesaire is this Saturday at noon. We’re going to be 'worshipping’ Alya by watching Lord of the Rings–which she somehow hasn’t seen–”

“They don’t have human movies in Hell!” protested Alya. “At least none of the good ones!”

Aurore and Juleka both laughed at that, and then Juleka went on. “We will also be snacking on stuff from the Dupain-Cheng bakery and talking about what to get Principal Damocles for his birthday. And maybe we can fit in some, I don’t know, moral instruction or something. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” Aurore nodded. “I… I guess I’ll see you two then.” And she left.

Alya left out a breath and sagged down on her bed. “Ugh. That was a trainwreck,” she muttered. “I need to get better at tempting.”

“Fortunately, you have your expert high priestess to help,” joked Juleka.

Alya smiled at that. Then she said, “And… thanks. For coming up with the idea of what to do with Aurore. I think–I think you were right. Damning her would have been the wrong move.”

“Of course I"m right.” Juleka sat next to Alya, who leaned on her shoulder. “Happy to help.”

“Yeah… but I still need to get another soul by the end of the week.” Alya pursed her lips. “I–”

Juleka’s phone beeped with an alert. She looked down at it. “Hey, some nutjobs are trying to rob a bank,” she said. “And they’ve taken hostages that they’re threatening to shoot. If you hurry I’ll bet you can get their before Ladybug, steal a few souls from the robbers, and make your quota that way.”

Alya brightened. “Yeah, that’s perfect!” She jumped to her cloven feet. “Thanks again, Juleka! You’re great.”

“I know,” said Juleka as Alya ran out. Then she chuckled and lay back in the bed. Becoming a counselor and spiritual advisor to a demon–and, apparently, at least one newly-soulless girl who needed a little anger management–wasn’t really where she’d seen herself going when the year had begun.

But that didn’t make it not fun.

Chapter 4

It was about one month after Juleka had learned Alya’s secret when things began getting hectic again.

“You know what I think?” Rose asked as she lay on Juleka’s lap, staring at the sky while they finished their lunches. “I think we should do something special tomorrow. We should go to Andre’s ice cream cart, get our favorite flavors, and then ride in one of those boats that goes up and down the Seine.”

“Sounds fun,” said Juleka. She gently stroked Rose’s hair, and the girl grinned and wriggled deeper into Juleka’s lap. “Is tomorrow a special occasion?”

“The most special of all!” said Rose. “Tomorrow is our six-and-a-half month anniversary!" 

Juleka chuckled. "Ah. How could I forget. The most important day in any loving relationship–”

“Don’t make fun of love,” said Rose. “It’s amazing. Like, I love you, so when I look at you my heart starts racing and I feel like the most fortunate girl in the world.” Juleka blushed at that. “And I’m sure you feel the same way, 'cause you’re also in love!”

“Sounds about right,” said Juleka. “Although, at the moment, I’d kind of love to get back to class before Mendeleiev gives us detention…”

Rose checked her watch and made a soft 'eep’ sound. “You’re right!” she said as she scrambled upright. “But let’s cuddle more later. It’s fun.” She grinned at Juleka before rushing back to the school, with Juleka following at a slightly more sedate pace.

Juleka had gotten inside and was heading towards the classroom when she saw Alya approaching. “I think Marinette’s in that room there,” Nino was calling to her from around a corner. “I heard her say Lila wanted to talk to her about something.”

“Thanks!” Alya called back. Then she looked at Juleka. “Hey. Got any plans for this afternoon?”

“Cuddling with Rose,” said Juleka. “And after that… I dunno. We can do something or–”

A yelping noise sounded from the closed room. Jueka and Alya glanced at each other, then quickly looked through a crack in the door. Juleka’s eyes widened as she saw Lila pulling her hand away from Marinette; the hand looked bruised and Marinette was giving LIla an astonished look. “That’s all you’ve got? Poking me in the chest? Whatever. I’m done with you." 

Marinette stalked towards the other door. As soon as she left, Lila’s scowl deepened, and then–

Then her body flashed and took on an appearance similar to that of Alya’s.

They weren’t exactly the same. Lila’s horns, wings, and tail were all larger than Alya’s, and her skin was a deeper red. She also had some tattoos which writhed a little on her body. But they were clearly the same species, and Juleka couldn’t stop herself from gasping. 

"No!” hissed Alya as she covered Juleka’s mouth.

But it was too late. Lila glanced at the door, then waved one claw-like hand at it and whispered something in Latin, and then Juleka felt herself being dragged through the door by an unseen force. Alya was dragged in besides her, and the two were thrown to the ground in front of LIla.

“So,” said Lila. “I guess you two will be my next acquisitions.” She waved a hand and the door shut behind them. “Don’t worry, though. I’m not too hard of a taskmaster. Your souls will be safe and–”

“Hang on!” said Alya as she forced herself to her feet. Her body shimmered and then she was in her natural demonic form too. Juleka scrambled up afterwards. “Our souls aren’t up for grabs. I’m gathering souls for the bosses, same as you. And, uh, Juleka’s the high priestess of my cult.”

Lila blinked and then stared at Juleka. “You. The high priestess. That’s insane. She can’t possibly do the job.”

“I get that a lot,” Juleka drawled. “But it turns out I’m really good at chanting.”

Lila rolled her eyes. “Har har. If your demon shows up at midnight half-dead from fighting a paladin, can you rush out and sacrifice a vestal virgin to restore her strength?”

“No,” said Juleka, “but I can watch anime with her on the weekends. It makes her happy, and it comes up a lot more than the vestal virgin thing.”

Lila boggled, and then Alya stepped between them. “But seriously, I had no idea,” she told Lila. “I mean, you’re always doing charity work with these famous celebrities from all over the world and…” She trailed off for a moment. “…and now that I know who you are, I can see those stories are totally ridiculous and you’ve probably been using demonic magic to make everyone believe them.”

“Exactly. And even if Dupain-Cheng is still too 'pure’ right now for it to work on her, everyone else believes me. It’s the perfect cover.” Lila beamed. “And I’ll get Marinette eventually.”

“Hang on,” said Alya quickly. “That’s–that’s not a good idea. I mean, you just tried to get Marinette’s soul and you failed, right? That girl is damn-near incorruptible. No way would she ever do anything bad enough to be vulnerable to one of us. You’re better off looking elsewhere.”

Juleka gave Alya a querying look. The girl sounded nervous. Evidently Lila picked up at it too, because she leaned back on her cloven hooves, then grinned. “Oh, I get it! You’re actually friends with that little pink rodent!”

Alya scowled. “Marinette is… nice,” she said at last. “We’re allowed to have friends.”

“No, we’re allowed to fake being friends so we can get their souls.” Lila snorted. “As if humans were worthy of friendship. Bunch of self-righteous morons who’ve never really been tested and think they’re better than us. Put any of them with a decent tempter for thirty seconds and they’d sell their souls, their lovers, and their children to satisfy some sick desire. I might be here for Hawkmoth and Mayura, but along the way I’ll get Marinette, Alya. I’ll get anyone I want.”

“Marinette,” said Alya in a slow voice, “Is off limits. So are all my friends in class. Come on, Lila, Paris has millions of people. You can go after any of them.”

“Sure. I could. But I think I’ll go after Marinette and her friends instead.” Lila grinned. “Marinette annoys me. She acts like she’s virtuous, and she’s so… smugly casual about it. Like she doesn’t even have to try at it. Like anyone could be that nice if they wanted.” She shuddered. “Filthy human. And I don’t think she’ll be hard to get at all, Alya. See, first I’ll get the souls of her friends and make them act incredibly cruel to her. Then, when she’s hurt and broken, I’ll corrupt her and take her soul too. Hmm, maybe when I finish here and get back down to Hell I can have her as a personal thrall to trim my hooves and everything.”

Alya opened her mouth, but then Lila began talking again. “Besides, I have my own career to look out for, don’t I? Right now I know of two demons in Paris: you and me. If anything big happens, we’ll share credit, and half-credit’s just not enough for me. But if one of those demons should, say, lose her cover–because all of her friends start telling people she’s a demon, working to expose her, maybe even going crazy and drawing attention to her–she’ll have to leave. Then I’ll be alone, and when I capture Hawkmoth’s and Mayura’s souls–not to mention Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s, of course–I’ll be promoted for sure. I might even become an archfiend and have a whole legion of lesser demons under my command." 

Juleka stared at Lila as the demon grinned. "Sorry, Alya,” Lila went on. “But that’s how the game is played. If you don’t like the thought of me stealing all your 'friends” souls in front of you and using them to force you out in disgrace, you can leave now, quietly, with your dignity and reputation intact. I’ll be sure to keep you apprised on how my work in corrupting Marinette is going.“ She chuckled, then walked past Alya towards the door. "See you around, partner,” she called, then summoned her human guise around herself and left.

When the other demon was gone, Juleka shut the door and turned to Alya, who was starting to panic. “No no no!” Alya hissed. “This can’t be happening! This isn’t fair! I don’t want Lila to touch them!”

“Can you call your bosses?” Juleka asked.

Alya snorted. “They’ll tell me if I"m not strong enough to fight off Lila I deserve to lose everything to her. Damn it! We have to do something, but her magic felt really strong. I don’t know if I can fight it.”

“I could worship you more,” offered Juleka. 

“One or two worshippers won’t be enough, and even if you post an ad on Craigslist or something and get more recruits we don’t’ have time. Lila will already started corrupting the class more aggressively.” Alya clutched her head. “This is awful.”

Juleka thought for a few moments. “But we do have time, at least a little. Lila just tried to get Marinette’s soul and couldn’t, and in fact, her hand looked pretty messed up from the attempt. Do you know what that means?”

“That something’s blocking her, I’d guess.” Alya shrugged. “Marinette might have angelic backing; she’s pure enough it wouldn’t surprise me… although if she did they would probably have warned her about me by now. Or maybe some other semi-divine force is protecting her, though I have no idea what.”

“Still,” said Juleka. “We just saw she can’t get Marinette’s soul.”

Alya shook her head. “She can’t directly, not yet, but her plan’s a good one. Marinette loves her friends. If Lila gets their souls and warps them so the class is horrible to Marinette, then Marinette could break and become vulnerable.”

“Hmm.” Juleka thought back, and then an idea hit her. “You said you couldn’t get Mireille’s soul because someone already had it.”

“Right.”

“So why don’t we try to get the class’s souls before Lila does? If you have them locked up then Lila can’t loot them.” Juleka tensed as she spoke. She had no idea how she’d go about getting Rose’s soul in particular without it seeming like a betrayal. But if that was the only way to keep her girlfriend safe from Lila, Juleka would do it. 

Alya blinked. “That… that just might work!” she beamed. “Juleka, you’re brilliant!” And she hugged the goth.

“Thanks,” managed Juleka. “I–”

“There’s no time to lose,” said Alya. “We’ll start today. Operation: protect the class from Lila by stealing all their souls first is a go!”

Chapter 5

“Let’s deal with Alix first.”

Juleka leaned against the wall and looked at Alya, who was putting together a corkboard with photos of their classmates. Alya drew a red circle around Alix and then put a ’#1’ next to it. “She’ll be one of the easiest,” Alya went on. “She’s so hot-headed. All we have to do is challenge her to a dare and get her to bet her soul on it, then win!”

“Winning might be tough,” Juleka noted. “Alix is pretty competitive.”

“Fortunately, being a demon, I’m allowed to cheat.” Alya winked. “And that’s what you’re for. You’ll help me rig things so that I can’t help but win. Then her soul will be mine!” She grinned and summoned a small ball of Hellfire, which she began to toss up and down in one hand. “And then I–”

The Hellfire slammed into the ceiling light and blew it out, shrouding both of them in darkness–except for the light emanating from Aurore’s soul, which was quietly glowing on a shelf. Alya shrugged, then picked up the soul and began using it as a flashlight to see the corkboard. Juleka snorted. “I don’t think you’re supposed to use souls like that.”

Alya waved this off. “Now let’s see… ah. I’ve got the perfect way we can trap Alix in a bet she can’t win.”

###

“A race around the city?” Alix’s eyes gleamed. “That sounds awesome! The news station really asked you to help them plan it?”

“They know I go around the city to film Ladybug, so I guess I was the natural choice.” Juleka smiled slightly as Alya tossed her hair back, then gestured at the map she had set down on the cafe table where she had asked Alix to meet her. “I just need to get from checkpoint to checkpoint and then report back if there were any problems with the route–you know, road under construction, 'no pedestrian’ signs, zombie outbreak, things like that. I won’t even need to tell them how long it took, since the checkpoints are set up so that they’ll register when peoples’ phones get near them; that’s how they’ll make sure nobody tries to cheat by skipping a checkpoint, and that’s how they’ll record my time. So it seems really easy, right? But I was thinking, it’d be really boring to do it by myself, so… why not make it a race?” She gestured to her bike. “Me  versus you? You can use your skates, of course.”

Alix cracked her knuckles. “Sounds like a blast. But if we’re racing, we should have stakes. Winner gets the losers’ wheels?”

“Can’t do that.” Alya shook her head. “Mom will kill me if I lose my bike.”

“Hmph,” said Alix. “Well, we have to bet something, and it should be high stakes. None of this 'winner gets a cookie from Marinette’s bakery’ stuff. Something worth racing around the city for.”

“I agree, but what?” Alya glanced at Juleka. “Any ideas?”

The goth chuckled to herself, then said her lines. “I’m sure you guys’ll probably just bet ten bucks or something,” she said in a dry, slightly smug voice that she’d rehearsed with Alya. “I mean, I’ve seen weirder bets, but mostly just from some pagans I met online.”

“What kinds of bets do they make?” Alix asked.

“Well, I saw one group where they gambled blood,” lied Juleka. “Winner got a pint of blood from the loser.”

Alix wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”

“What? It’s high stakes betting, right?” Juleka smiled slightly. “And that wasn’t even the weirdest one. I saw one bet where the winner got the loser’s soul.”

Alix actually laughed. “Goth much, Juleka? Souls don’t exist.”

“Then you shouldn’t have any problem betting it,” said Alya. “That sounds fun! Winner gets the loser’s soul… and two hundred bucks.”

Alix snorted. “Soul shmoul, but I could use the money. Deal. Count of three?”

“Sure!” Alya beamed. “One, two… three!”

Alix took off at a blast, immediately turning a corner and rushing towards the first checkpoint on Alya’s map–the Eiffel Tower. Alya waited until she was out of sight, then darted into the alley behind the cafe with Juleka. “Perfect!” said Alya as she sketched out a pentagram in chalk on the ground. “Let’s go!”

“And this will still count?” Juleka asked. 

“Of course it will. Alix made the deal: whoever gets to all the checkpoints first and then returns here wins the loser’s soul. Sure, it might not be fair for me to use my demon powers to teleport, but I didn’t explicitly say I was going to use my bike to get around–I just implied it–and besides, like I said, demons get to cheat.” Alya grinned. “It’s part of our style. Now come on; Alix is fast and we’ve got to get going.”

Juleka followed her into the pentagram. “Why am I being teleported too, again?”

“Because if anything goes wrong I’ll need your help to fix things,” Alya said. “And besides, part of being my high priestess is accompanying me on my adventures and giving me support.”

Juleka blinked. “Okay. Rah rah rah, Alya is great, rah rah.”

Alya giggled. “I meant magical support, in case I need it.” She took Juleka’s hand. “Let’s go!”

And then they vanished in a flash of brimstone and sulfur.

###

For a moment, Juleka thought she had the impressions of fire–massive flames higher and hotter than had ever existed on Earth–but they didn’t seem to touch her. And a moment later she was back on the ground, having arrived with Alya in the pentagram they had secretly sketched beforehand in a small janitor’s closet next to the Eiffel Tower.

They then disappeared and reappeared several times in quick succession, all over the city, hitting each checkpoint in succession. Finally they reached the last one, landing in a dingy basement under Montparnasse Tower, and Alya grinned. “Now just to get back to the cafe and wait for her!”

But when she tried to teleport, nothing happened, and Alya frowned. “What’s wrong?” she demanded. “This always worked when I practiced it!”

“Maybe somebody disturbed the pentagram in the alley,” Juleka offered. “So we can’t use it to get back.”

“Agh!” Alya groaned. “Then–then we’ll have to get back the old-fashioned way. But we should still be way ahead of Alix, so–OW!”

Juleka blinked as Alya held up a small ball of Hellfire to illuminate the area, and they both winced as they saw that Alya had stepped into what looked like an animal trap. “Guess they have rats or something down here,” said Juleka as she helped Alya to pry it off.

“Stupid rats,” grunted Alya. “Ow, that really hurts…”

They got the trap off, but when Alya put her foot down she yelped and had to lift it again. “Will you be okay?” Juleka said at once. “Are you–”

“I’m fine. Demons heal fast… but not fast enough to win the race on foot.” Alya grit her teeth and leaned on Juleka. “We have to get as close to the cafe as we can before Alix catches us.’

"Then what?” Juleka asked. “You need to beat Alix, so is there any way I can slow her down while you go ahead?”

Alya nodded. “Yeah. I can… I can lend you some powers. Technically I’m supposed to demand you give me blood and swear more loyalty and so on, but whatever. I’m desperate. Here.”

She grabbed Juleka’s hand, the one that she’d cut to get Juleka into her cult, and chanted a few words in Latin. Juleka gasped as another surge of power flowed into her, this one deeper and more powerful than the first. Her hair stood on end for just a moment and she stumbled away from Alya as the surge faded. “What was that?”

“Just a couple basic powers,” Alya said. “Standard high priestess starter pack: Hellfire summoning, and a few passive spells related to magical strength, toughness, and so on. It should be pretty instinctive.”

Juleka blinked, then focused on her hand–and to her amazement, a surge of energy ran through her and a little flame appeared at her fingertips. “Woah!” she gasped. “That is so cool!”

“Yeah, yeah, demons are awesome, I get it,” said Alya. “Can we focus on the race right now?”

“Right, right. Here.” Juleka got Alya’s arm around her shoulder and began helping her limp back towards the cafe.

###

They almost made it back by the time Alya said, “Okay, Alix just hit Montparnasse. She’ll catch up to us in a couple minutes.”

“How can you–”

“I can sense when people I know go near my pentagrams.” Alya winced. “The cafe’s not that far. You just need to stall her for a couple minutes. But nothing too flashy in public, okay? If someone videotapes you summoning balls of Hellfire–”

Juleka nodded. “I know, I know. You’ll be very upset that they’ll have scooped you before you could get it on the Ladyblog.”

Alya snorted. “And, you know, you could be seen and then hunted down by angels and paladins. But other than that, yes, the blog is the most important thing.”

They got to a corner and Juleka let Alya limp on ahead towards the cafe. Then Juleka ducked into another alley and kept watch, soon seeing Alix furiously skating down the sidewalk. She thought for a moment about what she could do with her powers. Something very subtle, she thought, would probably be best. Something subtle and sneaky and…

Then she shrugged. She had Hellfire now. What was the point of that if she couldn’t have a little fun with it? 

So she focused, summoned up a big ball of Hellfire, and then–from the safety of the alley, where nobody was watching–lobbed it at a fire hydrant in Alix’s path.

The fireball blasted the hydrant to pieces, and jets of water began shooting in all directions. Alix yelped as a water blast hit her and destabilized her. She almost fell, but Juleka darted out from the alley and caught her. Before she wouldn’t have been able to do so, but Alya had given her just a taste of demonic strength and she was easily able to arrest Alix’s fall. “Careful!” she said as she helped Alix slow and then stop. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” said Alix. “Stupid hydrant just exploded!” She quickly shook herself off. “But no worries. I’ll still beat Alya back.”

Juleka stepped out of Alix’s way, but just as the skater began to take off again Juleka fired a very tiny bit of Hellfire down at her skates and melted one of the wheels. Alix tried to roll and almost tripped. “Oh, come on, what now?” she growled as she looked down.

“Looks like a piece of the hydrant may have smashed the wheel,” Juleka offered.

Alix kicked off her skates and shoved then into Juleka’s arms. “Hold these,” she said. “Don’t lose them.” And then she took off at a run.

Juleka frowned, not knowing how to further slow Alix, and began running after her. The girl was fast and even Juleka’s demonic-enhanced energy wasn’t enough to enable the goth to overtake her friend. But she was able to keep pace, just barely, and she chased after Alix as they rounded the final corner–

Just in time to see Alya stagger into the cafe and then turn. “I win!” Alya called as Alix groaned. “Hah!”

“Hmph.” Alix slowly approached Alya. “Only because a fire hydrant blew up.”

Alya glanced at Juleka, who smiled slightly. Alya returned the look with a grin of her own. “Guess you owe me.”

“Yeah, I’ll grab the money from my room and drop it off at your place. Oh yeah, and my 'soul.’” Alix chuckled. “Love to see you collect that, Cesaire.”

###

“You JERKS!”

Alya, now back in her room and in her demonic form, beamed triumphantly as she held Alix’s soul up in the air. Alix jumped for it, but she was so short she couldn’t even reach Alya’s hand. “I thought you said you wanted to see me collect it.”

“I wasn’t being literal!” Alix jumped again. If Alya’s demonic form phased her, she didn’t show it. “Juleka! Make her give it back! It's… it’s my soul!”

“Sorry.” Juleka shrugged. “I"m her high priestess. I’m on her side.” She paused. “Wow, Alix, your soul is really pink and red.”

Alya nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of cute." 

"My soul is not cute!” Alix wailed. “It’s rough and tough! Like me!”

“No, it’s cute.” Alya poked it, and Alix suddenly stepped back and giggled. Alya blinked. “Wait, are you ticklish?”

“Uh–no! No way!” Alix insisted.

Alya and Juleka exchanged knowing glances, and then Alya began to tickle Alix’s soul, causing the redhead to collapse in hysterical laughter. “Stop!” Alix begged as she laughed wildly. “Stop please!”

“Only if you promise to stop yelling,” Alya said primly. And after a little more tickling, Alix had to give in.

Alya set Alix’s soul next to Aurore’s, and Alix tried to grab it but found she couldn’t touch it. “Seriously, what the Hell?” she demanded. “Look, Alya being a demon from Hell, fine, whatever, but taking my soul–”

“Another demon’s in town,” said Juleka. “Lila Rossi. She’s really good at collecting souls, and she’s coming after the class. We’re trying to get everyone’s souls first so she can’t actually send your souls to Hell.”

Alix hesitated. “Couldn’t you just warn us so we wouldn’t fall for her tricks?”

“Lila could get your soul even if you knew she was coming–I looked up her record after we learned about her, and she’s a validictorian-level tempter,” Alya said. “But don’t worry. As long as your soul’s safe with me, she can’t grab it!” She beamed. “You’re welcome.”

“I… agh.” Alix threw her head back. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Juleka smiled. “You could join the cult. Hang out with other people who’s soul got yeeted out of their bodies by Paris’s best demon.” Alya grinned. “See some really cool powers.” And she summoned a bit of Hellfire, causing Alix’s eyes to widen. “And watch some really, really ridiculous anime.”

“That's… that doesn’t sound like much of a cult,” Alix noted.

“Maybe for a lame demon who just wants to hear people talk about how great she is,” said Alya, “but my cult is very big on having everyone eat snacks and watch fun tv shows.” She paused. “Look, I–I get this is a big deal for you. I wasn’t planning on going after the souls of anyone at Francois Dupont, honest. But there was no other way to keep you safe from Lila. And if you’re in the cult, you can check in on your soul whenever we meet… we can watch out for each other, make sure Lila doesn’t attack…”

Alix slowly nodded. “Okay. I’m in. But I want your word that once Lila is gone you’re giving my soul back.”

“Sure,” said Alya. “I don’t need it for my quota anyways.”

They all looked at each other in silence for a moment before Alix said, “And can my soul at least get a blanket or something? It’s chilly in here.”

“It doesn’t need a blanket. It’s a soul; it can’t catch cold,” protested Alya.

“So? It’s still nippy!”

Juleka grinned and settled back as the two continued to argue. She’d helped protect someone today, she thought. She’d made it so Lila could not damn Alix. She’d done good. Nothing could ruin her mood.

###

Ten minutes after leaving Alya’s, she took a shortcut through an alley to get back to the Liberty, and then she almost bumped right into Lila Rossi.

“I know what you’re doing,” said Lila without preamble. “And it annoys me. I’ll give you one chance. Forswear Alya and take my side. I’ll give you more power and wealth, and–”

Juleka snorted. “Not a chance.”

“Fine.” Lila whistled, and something growled at Juleka from within the shadows. “Then you’ll get eaten by my pet Hellhound. See you never, Juleka.” She vanished in a puff of smoke as a gigantic wolf-like dog, drooling saliva that burned into the alley floor and breathing smoke and flame from its nostrils, approached.

Juleka gulped. Then she threw a blast of Hellfire at it, but it had no effect. Then it leapt at her and she cringed back–

Only for a blur to swoop in and knock it aside. 

Juleka stared as a short girl with blond hair, wings full of white feathers, and an actual halo raised a sword. “Begone, beast!” she roared in a very familiar voice. “And bother not the innocent, lest you taste divine wrath!”

“Uh,” said Juleka. “Um.”

Then the angel–whom Juleka knew very well as Rose Lavillant–turned back. “Juleka!” she said in a slightly nervous voice. “I, um… I have some things to tell you!”

Chapter 6

“Uh,” said Juleka. “Um.”

Her heart was beating very fast, and she quickly clenched her hand–the one that Alya had marked–into a tight fist so Rose couldn’t see her palm. “You’re an, um.”

“Angel,” said Rose. “And–hey! I said stop!” She pointed her sword at the Hellhound, which was still slavering. “The power of–”

The Hellhound leapt at Rose, who sighed, then quickly swung her sword up and decapitated the beast.

Juleka boggled as Rose wiped her sword clean on the alley wall. The Hellhound’s body shuddered, then both its head and the rest of it burst into flames and crumbled to ash. “As I was saying,” Rose said. “I’m an angel. I’ve been sent here to look out for the souls of Paris.”

“…a guardian angel is dating me?” Juleka asked.

And then Rose blushed. “Well, angels are allowed to love!” she said a little too quickly. “We’re not like the other guys. And–and you’re very lovable! I can see souls, and your soul is as bright and lovely as the sun!”

Despite everything, Juleka blushed. “Um.”

“You are! You’re kind, and loyal, and… oh!” Rose swiveled on her foot. “More Hellhounds!” Juleka turned to see four more darting in from the shadows deeper in the alley. “Stay back!”

Juleka cringed against the wall as Rose rushed forwards and dueled the Hellhounds, slashing and thrusting to keep them away. However, the sheer weight of numbers began forcing her back. “Begone!” Rose yelled again, but the Hellhounds didn’t listen. “Uh… begone, I said!”

“I don’t think they’re listening,” said Juleka.

Rose gave her a tiny frowned, then blinked. “Oh, I know! I can make you my paladin. Then I can give you powers to help!”

————

I LOVE IT YES ITS AWESOME

I’d love to see more but no stress, this was just so enjoyable

[rosesgonerogue]

I didn’t so much fall in love - It kicked me in the face Chapter One

Everyone had thought that Marinette was crazy for choosing Gotham as the first city in America to accept a high-profile job, specifically a job that would require her in person. Despite all of the logical arguments against it, however, Marinette could feel it in her bones that this was where she was supposed to be. It felt like divine intervention beyond that of the usual kwami antics in her life. 

At that very moment, though, she had never wanted to curse the universe more. 

She tore through the unfamiliar streets, heart hammering in her chest. She wanted to shout his name, scream it from the rooftops, but she knew all too well justs how dangerous that would be. After all, she’d only just barely gotten away from the Scarecrow herself. 

“Tikki, where is he?” Marinette whispered, tears stinging her eyes. “I can’t lose him, I just…” 

“We will find him, Marinette,” she said, determined. “He can’t have gone far, and he knows how to keep himself safe. You’re still emotional from the fear toxin.” 

“But Gotham is so dangerous! I knew I should have left him home.” 

The kwami did her best to comfort the guardian, but she felt the same desperation growing with every minute.

“He wouldn’t have gone this far, Tikki, what if he-”

“Maman!” 

As she whipped around, Marinette’s frantic, fear-toxin addled mind locked onto two facts: her precious son was alive and well, and he was in the clutches of a costumed man.

She felt her heart rate spike, and everything she had learned and experienced as Ladybug boiled down to this one moment. In short, the man never stood a chance. 

“Ma’am, I-” 

As the stranger spoke, Marinette pivoted on her right heel, her left heel colliding with the man’s jaw with a sickening crunch. It was too fast for the average eye to see, and the man was felled in a moment, going down with a strangled grunt. 

Gathering Leo into her arms, she sprinted away, heartbeat still hammering in her chest. 

“Maman, he’s nice,” Leo said in French. “He helped me, we were looking for you. He’s a hero, like Ladybug.” 

“Marinette, you really need to go make sure he’s okay!” Tikki said, distressed. “If you explain about the fear toxin, I’m sure he’ll understand.” 

Finally her feet began to falter, the exercise further clearing the toxin from her mind. She squeezed Leo in her arms, horror mounting. “Oh no. I just roundhouse kicked one of Gotham’s vigilantes, didn’t I?” 

“I think so, Marinette.” 

It felt like a walk of shame, but when she made it back to the vigilante, he had at least propped himself  up against a nearby wall. He was groaning, clutching his jaw. 

“Excuse me, Monsieur?” she said hesitantly. “I, uh, I’m the one who ki- oh no, is your jaw dislocated? I am so sorry! I didn’t- I mean, I just, there was fear toxin from Scarecrow, and I’m not from Gotham, and I was so worried about my son, and… I’ll stop talking now. I’ve fixed dislocated jaws before. May I help you?”

The vigilante - through process of elimination, he must be Red Robin - stared up at her with wide eyes. He didn’t exactly say no, so Marinette kneeled down beside him. 

“The pain will get a lot better once I’m done,” she promised, discreetly harnessing the barest traces of magic to help this go smoothly. She’d done this for Chat Noir more than once, and as Guardian of the Miraculous, she had access to more than a little bit of healing magic. Red Robin looked more uneasy by the second, so Marinette just went for it. 

Sliding her fingers into the right position, she pushed down on his back teeth, simultaneously guiding his jaw back up into place, a burst of magic taking the brunt of the pain from him. 

Red Robin jerked backwards, working his jaw a few times. “Thank you?”

“I am so sorry!” Marinette repeated, standing and offering a hand to help up the vigilante. “There will still be a bruise for a few days. I promise I don’t make a habit of kicking vigilantes in the face.” 

He stood with her help, only looking a little dizzy. “Don’t worry about it, there were extenuating circumstances. If you don’t mind me asking, though, where are you from? If Gotham’s civilians were half as deadly as you are, our streets would be a lot safer.” 

“Paris, sir. My son Leo and I just arrived here tonight, actually. We were on our way to our hotel when we were caught up in one of Scarecrow’s attacks and I told him to run and hide. Does that mean you found him?” 

“Yes ma’am. You have a very well-behaved son,” he said, careful to keep his posture as harmless as possible. “And while you are obviously a capable defender, it would help me put my mind at ease if you let me walk you to where you’re staying.” 

She hoisted Leo up into her arms, the familiar weight soothing her. “Are you sure you want to? I very nearly broke your jaw five minutes ago.” 

“And you put everything back where it should be. Now where are you staying?

*************************

Tim couldn’t deny that he was intrigued by the woman in front of him. Not to mention she was attractive, but doubtlessly married. Anyone that wonderful in general had to be taken. 

What he fixated on, though, was her skill. Thinking her child was in danger would definitely be grounds for an adrenaline rush, but her movements were too controlled and practiced for it to be a fluke. Tim couldn’t have dodged her if he had tried. He didn’t think any of his brothers could have either, maybe not even Bruce. 

She was staying in a nicer hotel in Gotham, owned by Bruce, of course. When they arrived, Tim couldn’t stop himself from lingering in front of the hotel longer than strictly necessary, trying to do something, anything to understand the woman before him. He stayed in the shadows until they were out of sight, and even then he stayed a while yet, staring at where she had stood. 

The rest of his patrol was short, and he got back home about the same time as the others. When he slipped in, Jason was in the middle of telling Dick a story. 

“-and so I went in thinking it would be a normal hostage situation, but no. Right before I can get in, the door flies open and this girl runs out like a bat out of hell. She just vanishes into the night without a trace. I go in and the Riddler is already trussed up like a pig for the slaughter. I swear, I could marry that girl.” 

“Was she French?” Tim demanded, blatantly eavesdropping. 

Jason turned to meet his eyes, scrutinizing his brother. “And how would you know that, replacement?” 

“I ran into her after that. She has a kid, and I found him. She dislocated my jaw when she thought I was trying to take him.” 

Damian snorted. “Did she damage your delicate ego along with your delicate face?” 

“Isn’t it your bedtime?” Tim fired back. “After all, it is a school night and we know how much you need your beauty sleep.” 

“She really dislocated your jaw?” Dick asked, looking thoughtful. 

“With a roundhouse kick. She put it back into place too.” 

“Not just anyone can do that. Maybe we need to keep a closer eye on this girl.” 

“We can do some research tomorrow,” Bruce said, appearing out of thin air. “Go to sleep, all of you. Tomorrow we have the meeting with MDC and we need to make a good impression. Tim, that includes you. No more caffeine until you’ve had at least six hours of sleep.” 

Normally Tim would have chafed under Bruce’s orders - he was a grown man and CEO of Wayne Enterprises, after all. But for once he felt like he could actually sleep, without nightmares, even. 

He was meeting his favorite fashion designer tomorrow, after all. For some reason his thoughts were consumed by a certain French woman, however. Just before he drifted off to sleep, he idly wondered what color her eyes were.

A/N:  I'd never really experienced being baby-hungry before, and then quarantine happened and I wasn't able to see my nieces and nephews for over a month. During that time a good number of my friends announced that they were pregnant, and I miss being surrounded by children. This is super self-indulgent, so I don't really take criticism. If this isn't your cup of tea, move along. Also don't be surprised if you see more kid fics coming your way. I have had entirely too much time missing the children in my life, so I also have a Daminette thing partially written, and several other ideas screaming at me. If you want to be tagged, let me know! 

[five-rivers]

Corruption

A continuation of Flowers and Moon.

.

.

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"You- You planted them in the portal?" Danny squeaked. The only one of the flowers his parents were experimenting with that could bloom in the portal were...

Graveflowers. Oh no.

He cast a wild look down at his hands. Sure enough, they glowed with a soft, white radiance. A sort of whine made its way out of the back of his throat. "I- I can explain," he said, backing away.

Maddie looked stricken. Jack looked- Danny twitched his head to track his father as he moved across the room to stand by Maddie. Every part of him vibrated under tension, ready to react to any threat. Were they going to attack him? Reject him? He should have been more cautious, he should have gotten rid of the graveflower seeds when he first saw them, he should have made Jazz come down instead, he-

The lab shook again. Jack and Maddie whirled to face the portal, and, for a split second, Danny contemplated running.

"It's destabilizing the portal," said Maddie.

That sounded bad.

"It shouldn't have grown this fast!" said Jack.

Oh, that sounded worse.

They both turned to look at Danny. He cringed, holding his hands protectively in front of his chest.

"D-Danny," said Maddie, her voice breaking on his name. "I think- I think this is happening because of your accident." Her voice grew steadier as she continued. "Between that, the ectoplasm, and the portal, it must-" she broke off. "According to my research, you should be able to control it."

After living with his parents for his entire life, Danny knew how to spot when they were being less than truthful. Maddie's voice was higher pitched than it normally was. He couldn't tell what she was trying to hide, though.

Maybe he was just paranoid.

"If they aren't stopped soon, they'll destabilize the portal," said Jack. "They portal will explode."

"It'll what?"

Forgive him for being on edge, but his parents had (possibly) just found out that he was a ghost, and they were talking about explosions.

"Explode," repeated Jack.

"But you should be able to control them, Dan-ny," she stumbled over his name again. "Just- tell them to go back. To shrink."

Ghost plants were weird, and ghostly abilities numerous, but Danny didn't think it would be that easy. Frostbite had mentioned something about 'communing' with the plant, but he had sort of tuned out after deciding it wasn't a threat because no way would his parents try to plant something inside the portal. Except they had.

His thoughts swirled, chasing each other pointlessly. Finally, it latched onto the danger. The danger to himself and his family.

"Go back," said Danny at the plant, trying to sound authoritative. The vines kept creeping outward, digging into the seams between the wall panels. Danny bit his lip and then grabbed the cutting on the lab table. He held it out, feeling it, the ectoenergy in it tickling his palms. "Go back," he said, more firmly. "Let go. Get back." He took a step forward, and the ground rumbled again. "This is my place. Go back."

The vines and their hanging flowers trembled and, miraculously, began to recede, pulling back through the portal's rippling surface. Danny stepped forward, following, and watched as the huge plant wrapped around itself until it was just a shrub, lying on the torn and warped surface of the portal floor.

Danny walked to it carefully, avoiding tripping hazards. He had no desire to die here again. He picked up the plant and carried it out of the portal.

His mother had sunk to the ground. Jack was half bent over next to her. She struggled to her feet as soon as she saw Danny. She hugged him, stiffly.

"Thank goodness," she said. One of her hands found its way to Danny's wrist. "I'm so glad. This was just... a bad stroke of luck, sweetie. Just a bad stroke of luck that your accident simulated the conditions for that to bloom, that's all." She patted him on the shoulders and took the graveflower. "Well, disaster averted, so why don't you, um, order some takeout for us, okay?"

"Sure," said Danny. He glanced at Jack who looked deep in thought. "I can do that." He brushed bits of bark off of himself. If his parents were going to be in denial about the whole 'dead' thing, who was he to stop them?

He escaped as quickly as possible.

.

"Maddie," said Jack, "are you sure that's a smart thing to do? If he's- Maddie, it's a ghost, just a corrupted copy, and we have- we have no idea how far that corruption goes."

"It- He hasn't done anything yet," said Maddie, barely holding back tears.

"That we know of," said Jack, his voice was broken, too, "and now... if it didn't know before... I just don't think letting it keep playing this game is a good idea."

"I don't think he knows."

"Maddie..."

"I felt a pulse," said Maddie. "When I held his wrist, I felt a pulse. A ghost shouldn't be able to do that. A ghost should be colder. Jack, I don't think he's dead. I think- I was lying, so he wouldn't know, but what if it was the truth? What if that's what's really happening?"

"That would be really unlikely," said Jack. "But we've seen more unlikely?" His voice tilted up at the end, as if asking a question. "We'll... we'll have to monitor carefully. Keep track, see if we can confirm biological functions. Make sure- Make sure Danny doesn't hurt anyone." He frowned deeply. "It might not be what you think, though."

"I know, I know," said Maddie. "I know. But- Even if he is a ghost. Maybe- Maybe what Jazz has been saying holds water. Maybe we've been looking at things wrong. Maybe he isn't corrupt, even if he is a ghost. He might not be able to learn new things, but he could be- he could still be Danny." Maddie was aware that she was rambling.

Usually Jack was the emotional one. He was shaking, too.

"That would- God, I hope you're right, Mads."

.

They watched him.

They watched him eat. They watched him sleep. They took samples whenever they could. They caught him trying to sneak out at night several times, and each time they did, he spent the day moody and anxious.

The samples didn't seem to indicate that anything was amiss... Except, of course, that Danny was hideously ectocontaminated, to the point where it shouldn't be compatible with good health. Otherwise, they looked human. His hair and fingernails grew. His body dealt with food in a normal way. He slept as a human would, deeply and with dreams.

Maddie would have liked to take that to mean that everything was normal, that the only problem was a little ectocontamination, contamination that he had adapted to, but they caught glimpses of things beyond mere ectocontamination, now that they were paying attention. His eyes flashed green when he was angry. Small cuts and scrapes faded from his skin rapidly, sometimes in a matter of minutes. Some days he would have freckles, other days his skin would be perfectly porcelain white.

It only got worse when he thought he was alone, when he didn't know they were watching through hidden cameras. Sometimes he would do things. Ghostly things. They saw him stick his arm through a wall at one point. Another time, they saw his whole body flick invisible. Once, they caught him drift down through the ceiling, asleep, on camera.

Worse, it appeared that he was aware of what he was doing.

If he was aware that he was a ghost, that meant that he was purposefully keeping it from them. He wasn't just going through his day on autopilot.

But a ghost couldn't mimic life so perfectly, and they were certain that he wasn't possessed. They had tested him in every way they knew how, and he wasn't possessed.

Just as surely, he wasn't human. He couldn't be. So what was he?

Maddie didn't know, and it was killing her.

"We need some way of watching him while he's at school," said Maddie, drumming her fingernails on the table. "While he's not in the house. Maybe then we'll be able to- to classify his behavior." They hadn't even decided if his... ghostly characteristics had pushed his personality into malicious territory.

"A modified boo-merang, maybe?" said Jack. "Tell it to maintain a certain distance from the target, instead of hitting it, and add a camera? The mark one already keys onto Danny."

Maddie nodded and looked out across the lab, not really seeing it. They had pushed aside everything else to work on this. The only part of the plants project they were keeping up was the graveflower bush, which they had planted in a five-gallon bucket in the corner. For some reason, neither she nor Jack wanted to get rid of it.

As if detecting Maddie's thoughts, the plant trembled. The flowers began to unfurl.

"Mom? Dad? Are you down here?" her son's voice echoed down from the top of the stairs. "Is it okay if I come down?"

Jack tipped his notes over the side of the table and Maddie hastened to hide her own half of the research. "Sure, Danno!" called Jack. "Come right on down!"

Danny drifted silently down the stairs. He looked more nervous than he had since he had seen the graveflower that first time.

"Mom, Dad," he said, his fingers tying themselves into knots. "I have something to tell you. I-" He glanced at the graveflower and winced. "It's about my accident. The one with the portal. I've noticed you watching me, and I think- I need to tell you how it changed me."

.

.

.

Do you guys think this is a good place to end this one, or should I do one more?

[unholyobsessions]

Those who get sick together, stay together

Pairing: Julie x Luke

Description: Luke and Julie are best friends and it takes a delirious love confession for them to finally get together

Requested: Yes

A/N: It may seem kind of rushed? not my best work but at the same time i really like it

Warnings: Sickness, throwing up

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist

Here’s the thing, when you’ve known someone all your life you get used to doing everything together. Whether it be going to the arcade, the movies, shopping sprees, or vacations, where one goes, the other follows. That is the case with Julie Molina and Luke Patterson.

Growing up as neighbors in a suburban neighborhood of mostly retired couples made them the only kids within a five mile radius (and the winners of every chocolate selling competition the school hosted.) It was impossible to see the two of them apart and they liked it that way. They took the same classes and same extracurriculars, going as far as getting in trouble on purpose if the other had already gotten detention (when they were given a different schedule their freshmen year of high school, they gave a powerpoint presentation to the principle on the reasons they needed to be together… it worked.)

Considering the fact that they were never apart, it really came as no surprise when they both came down with the stomach flu the same weekend. Whenever they’re sick, they normally FaceTime the entire time, neither strong enough to visit and staying away if the other had miraculously not caught the sickness. This time however, Luke’s parents have to go on a business trip that has been scheduled for over a month that they really could not afford to cancel. Rose, ever the angel, immediately offered to have Luke stay over, saying that she is already going to take care of Julie, might as well nurse Luke back to health as well.

So that is why they both find themselves tucked into Julie’s bed with wet rags on their foreheads and grimaces on their faces. They each have their respective trash cans next to them in case they don’t have the time to run to the bathroom before throwing up.

Rose walks into the room with a bowl of ice in her hand but instead of going straight to the bed, she goes to Julie’s windows and pulls open the the purple blinds with butterfly stickers stuck to them. As a result, Luke and Julie let out loud groans and pull the covers over their heads. Rose rolls her eyes and walks over.

“The two of you are so dramatic I swear.” She pulls down the cover and takes both the rags to put them in the bowl.

“Mom,” they say, dragging out the word. A smile pulls at Rose’s lips, as it always does whenever Luke calls her mom. It’s been happening for years really, just as he calls Ray, Dad and Julie calls Mr. and Mrs. Patterson Ma and Pops respectively.

“Don’t mom me. You should be thankful I’m even here taking care of you.” They all know she’s lying. She would move a mountain for them, for anyone really, that’s just how Rose is.

She grabs the packet of pills from her pocket and gets two giving one to each of them. “Put these under your tongue and let them dissolve.” They both obediently do it but shoot up from the bed a few seconds later. Julie makes a run for the bathroom and Luke opts for the trashcan. Rose rushes after Julie, holding her hair back as she retches into the toilet. She faintly hears the sounds of Luke gagging and she lets out a sigh. So much for the pills.

Julie brushes her teeth and goes back to the bed, Luke getting up to rinse his mouth as well. Rose turn on the TV, hoping a couple of Friends reruns will brighten up their mood, and is about to walk out of the room when she hears a crash from the bathroom. She runs in to see Luke standing over a broken glass. He looks up with tears in his eyes.

“I-it fell. I didn’t mean too. I’m sorry.” Rose has to resist the urge to laugh as she grabs his hand and leads him back to the bed. She gets the now cold rags and places them over their foreheads again before turning off the light and going back to the bathroom to clean the mess.

Julie scoots closer to Luke and lays her head on his shoulder. Luke has the urge to push her away because the room feels much too hot for cuddling but when he opens his mouth to tell her to move she looks up at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he has ever seen. He sighs and ignores the sweat forming under his clothes, pulling Julie closer against him, both drifting off to sleep after a few episodes.

. . .

The next morning they’re no longer running a fever but they do find out the hard way that they still cannot keep any food down. When Rose tries to give them some plain toast, hoping that they will at least get some food in them, they both got up from the bed, this time Luke going to the bathroom and Julie using the trashcan.

With a heavy sigh, Rose phones the doctor, questioning him on what is the best option for two picky teenagers.

He suggests using syrup medicine instead of pills and tells her a pharmacy where she could pick it up in a couple of minutes. She thanks him profusely before hanging up. When she goes back upstairs she sees Julie and Luke both making their way back to the bed after brushing their teeth.

“Hey guys I’m going to pick up some medicine, I’ll be about forty-five minutes. You going to be okay by yourselves?” She calls from the doorway. Julie groans and tucks herself further into the bed. Luke laughs and looks up at Rose.

“We’ll be okay mom. I’m pretty sure Julie is going back to sleep,” he answers with a smile. He still felt terrible but he wasn’t nauseous anymore and he called that a win. She smiled and said goodbye before leaving.

. . .

A few hours later, Rose goes into the room with the medicine in hand. She hadn’t given it to them when she first arrived because they had both fallen asleep. They had been awake for a few hours but the medicine is supposed to make them drowsy so she preferred to give it to them at night.

Julie’s sitting on the bed, brushing through her wet hair and Luke is changing in the bathroom. Rose sits behind Julie and gently takes the hairbrush from her. She finishes untangling her hair and gives it a final dry through with a towel. Luke comes out of the bathroom and smiles sheepishly.

“I threw up again.”

Rose simply holds out her hand and Luke speed walks to the bed. He lays down and cuddles at her side, with Julie leaning back against her chest. She places kisses on both their heads before telling them to sit up so they can take the medicine.

They each take a tablespoon and take a sip of water. Rose tucks them into bed and turns off the lights, wishing them a goodnight and waiting a beat for them to say it back.

A few minutes later, they’re laying side by side, the darkness of the room providing a sense of comfort. The medicine hits Luke harder than it should, and Julie teases him about being a lightweight as he says nothing but nonsense.

“Jules?” Luke’s voice is groggy, as if it’s fading away.

“Yeah Luke?” Julie however is fully awake, the medicine not hitting her yet.

“I love you.”

She blushes, a foolish smile pulling at her lips. “I love you too.”

“No but like, love you love you.” He’s not quite sure what he’s saying. He feels sort of like that time he got his wisdom teeth out.

Her breath hitches. “You’re delirious,” she whispers, wishing for him to take the words back before she can read too much into them.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true. I’m in love with you Jules, have been for a while.” He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but his eyes are drooping and she’s sure he won’t remember this tomorrow.

“Go to sleep Lu.” her heart clenches and she blinks the tears away, blaming the pain in her stomach and not her feelings.

“Okay. Goodnight.” And just like that he’s out like a light. A few tears slip down her cheeks and after a while, the medicine hits her and her eyes flutter shut.

The next morning she waits for him to say something, anything, and when he doesn’t she decides she won’t either. She pretends it never happened and tries her best to act normal but Luke’s not an idiot. He notices quickly that something’s wrong. She stays as far away from him in the bed as possible, flinching if even his arm brushed against hers which is a large contrast to her cuddly behavior the days prior. She would jump whenever he said her name, more specifically when he said, “Jules.”

When Rose greets them, Julie is thankful for the distraction. She keeps looking at her mom, avoiding turning her head when she gives them another dose of medicine. They’re both feeling much better and are able to hold down the toast. Rose thinks they’ll feel good as new by the next day and personally, Julie doesn’t think it can come quick enough. She stays quiet most of the day, only giving Luke short replies and nods of her head whenever he tries to start conversation. Eventually he gives up, not knowing what he did wrong but deciding to give her some time, hoping that she will approach him when she’s ready.

The next day, Luke’s parents arrive to pick him up. Julie hears them speaking to her parents; they ask for her and how she’s doing but Julie pretends to be asleep in order to avoid any conversation. She hears Luke shuffling around the room as he gets his stuff together. She pretends she doesn’t feel Luke’s lingering touch on her shoulder when he says goodbye and she ignores the tears that fall down her face when she hears the door close downstairs.

. . .

Julie and Luke did not fight. They argued but they made up within the span of a few hours, so to say Luke is worried when Julie does not reply to his texts is an understatement. It has been about two hours since he had gone home and he has sent Julie a text every ten minutes.

Julie knows Luke is not stupid and that her not answering him is suspicious but she can’t help it. She ignores every single message and turns off her phone. She keeps it off the rest of the day and tries to not think about him, because even a single thought of him breaks her heart.

The next day she leaves her phone in her room all day and stays in the living room watching Netflix with her mom. She resists the urge to go upstairs to at least read his texts because that would just make the situation worst. Late in the evening when Rose goes to make dinner Julie makes her way to the studio, itching to play the piano after four days of not doing so. She isn’t expecting to see Luke sitting on the couch with his guitar resting on his leg.

He stands up quickly once he hears her come in. They stare at each other for a couple of seconds.

“What are you doing here?” Julie asks.

“I knew it would only be a matter of time before you came in here. Julie we need to talk.” He puts his guitar down and Julie shakes her head.

“We don’t need to talk? Why would we? I’m okay. We’re okay.” Julie averts her gaze, the words falling out of her lips in rapid succession.

“We’re not okay Julie. What did I do?” He asks desperately.

“Nothing. We’re fine,” Julie assures, trying her best to sound convincing.

“Jules,” Julie flinches and Luke’s face falls. “Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

“My phone’s been off,” she states in a matter of fact but Luke shakes his head. He’s growing frustrated and her lack of explanation is pissing him off.

“Why are you ignoring me?” His voice is loud and hurt causing Julie to break.

“Because you told me you loved me!” The silence that comes after is deafening.

“What- Jules of course I love you. I’ve said it hundreds of times.” He really hopes his nerves aren’t as evident as he thinks they are.

“Yeah, but you said you were in love with me,” Julie whispers. She looks everywhere but at him and continues to speak. “And I know you didn’t mean it and it hurts so much because I do mean it. I’m in love with you Luke. And hearing you say it while you were barely conscious broke me.”

Luke stares at her, mouth hanging open as he struggles to find the right words to say. He walks closer to her, stopping when the tips of his shoes brushed against hers. “Jules look at me please.” She begrudgingly lifts her gaze to him and his heart clenches at the sight of tears forming in her eyes. He reaches a hand up to cup her cheek, gently wiping away the first stray tear with his thumb. “I am so incredibly in love with you.”

“What?” He wishes she didn’t sound as surprised as she does.

“I’m in love with you Julie Molina. I love every single thing about you. The gap between your teeth when you smile. The way your hair never stays the way you want it to but it still looks beautiful. I love your voice, and hearing you play piano. I love how you draw on the edge of your shoes and will stop whatever you are doing to write down a melody, even if we’re in the middle of a test. I love your little jokes and how you laugh so unapologetically loud no matter where you are. I love you so much and god do I hate myself for telling you while I was high off of flu medicine.” Julie was full on crying now and Luke’s own eyes were starting to fill with tears.

Going off instinct, Julie goes up on her tiptoes and presses her lips against Luke’s, cupping the back of his neck to pull him closer. Luke is taken by surprise at first but once his brain starts working again, he reciprocates the kiss. When they pull away they both have similar grins plastered on their faces.

“Are we good?” Luke asks.

Julie nods her head. “More than good.”

Rose smiles when they both come back into the house at dinner time and exchanges a look with her husband when they make their way up the stairs with Luke placing a hand on Julie’s lower back.

. . .

No one is surprised when they walk into school at the end of summer break holding hands, and if they spot a few teacher exchanging twenty dollar bills, they don’t mention it.

[gusu-emilu]

sometimes I forget (3/3)

chapter three: I only want to be a relief

Ship: Jiang Cheng / Wen Ning

Summary: Wen Ning and Jiang Cheng travel to Dafan Mountain to find the cure to Lan Wangji’s fever. Their animosity results in a very strained partnership, which only becomes more complicated when Jiang Cheng develops the fever too. But along the way, they address the scars that haunt them and find something new in each other.

<< Ch. 1 | < Ch. 2 | Bonus | Art

Post-Canon, Rated T - read on AO3 or on Tumblr below

“You have to take it.” Wondering if he should even give two doses of medicine, Wen Ning placed a hand on Jiang Cheng’s forehead to feel his temperature.

A look of raw pleasure appeared on Jiang Cheng’s face.

Wen Ning jerked his hand away.

Wen Ning stood still for a few moments, unblinking. The memorial in front of him loomed a bit larger, while Jiang Cheng’s hand in his own seemed to shrink.

You’re a good person, too, he wanted to say back. Maybe because he believed it. Maybe because it would simplify his thoughts if he could label this man as good or bad, instead of searching for a name with actual meaning. Or maybe just because it would be cruel to answer with silence.

But in the end, silence was all he returned.

Jiang Cheng’s hand shrank a little more.

He thought of how Jiang Cheng had been furious seeing Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji visit the shrine of Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu in Lotus Pier, had lashed out at them. Jiang Cheng’s anger had been unjustified, built on a lie, but now Wen Ning could understand it.

If Jiang Cheng really was a good person, that was a thought Wen Ning could grapple with on his own.

It meant something else to say it out loud in these burial grounds, in front of the memorial of his family.

And what about himself? How could Wen Ning accept these words from Jiang Cheng after leaving Jin Ling an orphan, and failing to save Wei Wuxian from his own self-destruction? What position were they in to call each other good or bad, or anything at all?

“Doesn’t matter,” Wen Ning found himself saying, after such a long time that they should’ve forgotten what they were talking about. At some point their hands had separated.

“No,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice trailing off. “It doesn’t.”

* * *

They sat in the goddess’s cave, waiting for nightfall. The sun had lowered in the sky, but it would be many hours until they could harvest the Ever-Frozen Flower’s nectar.

Jiang Cheng had been surprisingly quiet. He was leaning against the stone wall and toying with Zidian with weak fingers, struggling to make a spark, curling his lips every time he failed. While he sulked in between attempts, his eyes rested softly on the medicine Wen Ning was preparing.

Too quiet.

He must’ve run out of things to criticize, Wen Ning thought.

But he couldn’t deny that the space between them felt different. Since summoning the goddess, Jiang Cheng’s combativeness had faded, and a solemnity had slipped between his feverish tremors.

Was the flu affecting his emotions, or had his behavior changed for another reason?

“Jiang Wanyin,” Wen Ning said as he handed over the medicine, as well as a small basin of water and a wet cloth for Jiang Cheng to cool himself with.

Water dribbled down from the cloth as Jiang Cheng massaged it into his forehead. “What?”

“Who told you where to find the cure?”

The cloth paused, covering one side of his face. “The goddess.” He rubbed the cloth on his neck, a little harder than before. “Who else?”

“That’s not what it seemed like.”

“Well, it was.” He swallowed the medicine, then shuddered at whatever foulness it must’ve tasted like.

Quiet but stern, Wen Ning said, “We’re working on this together, you know.”

Jiang Cheng met his eyes, then looked away and dunked the cloth in the basin of water. “I know.”

Wen Ning still felt like he was hiding something, but decided to drop it. If it were important, it would come up again. Several miraculous hours had passed since their shouting match, and Wen Ning wasn’t eager to provoke another one.

Besides, Jiang Cheng of all people should’ve known the dangers of keeping secrets.

Now that the last dose of medicine was gone, Wen Ning stood. “I’ll go to the village at the bottom of the mountain and buy some more. It won’t be as good as my clan’s, but it’ll still help.”

“Don’t bother,” Jiang Cheng said. “I’ll last.”

“We’ll be here for a while. There’s no cold spring to stifle the fever like Lan Wangji has at the Cloud Recesses. You need medicine.”

“I said, don’t bother.”

“I won’t be long.” Wen Ning headed toward the mouth of the cave.

“Didn’t you hear me?”

“What’s wrong?” Wen Ning turned around, irritated. “Why don’t you want to feel better?”

Jiang Cheng scowled. He tried to sit up taller, like he needed a better angle to yell at Wen Ning, but he just sank back into a slump. “Maybe I don’t think you should leave!”

Suddenly he looked small. His violet clan leader robes, the silver snake of Zidian, the sweat dripping down his brow, the pink flush in his cheeks. It all seemed to swallow him.

For the first time, Wen Ning realized that Jiang Cheng might have been scared. He was used to wielding power and prowess. Now he could barely hold himself upright. He couldn’t even make Zidian crackle.

If the cure didn’t work, in two sunsets time Lan Wangji—the spouse of another of his siblings—would die. And so would Jiang Cheng. Or, if he was fortunate, he’d lose his cultivation abilities, for the second time in his life.

He wants me to keep him company.

Now that Wen Ning knew, he wasn’t surprised. He just hadn’t expected Jiang Cheng to reveal it.

Something about the knowledge was…ironic.

Invigorating, even, if he ignored the possibility that the cure might fail.

“I’m going to get more medicine,” Wen Ning said.

“Stop doing things for me.”

“Whether I leave or not, isn’t that doing something for you either way?” Wen Ning smiled slightly. He wasn’t sure why, but this whole situation was starting to amuse him. Maybe they had been in this cave for too long.

“After that, I won’t leave Jiang-zongzhu all by himself again.”

“You—” Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened. He looked as embarrassed as Wen Ning had expected, and it sent a rush of satisfaction through him.

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng spat. “At least go to a bigger town than that backwater village, and buy better medicine.”

“I’ll go wherever I want.”

“Tch. Good.” Jiang Cheng crossed his arms, but it must’ve taken too much effort to hold them there, because he let them fall limp at his sides again. He flushed redder. “Please, take your time,” he said sarcastically.

“I will.”

Whatever strange exchange was happening right now, Wen Ning was enjoying it. He needed something to distract him from the grief he felt at the memorial, from the growing feeling of uncertainty about whether they’d find the ice-flower once night fell.

Watching Jiang Cheng try to hold together his crumbling dignity was an unexpected solution.

“Well? Are you going or not?”

Wen Ning nodded. “I’m going.” He strolled toward the mouth of the cave, an unusual spring in his step. “I’m just taking my time.”

* * *

On his way back from buying medicine, he searched through the western forest of Dafan Mountain to find the Ever-Frozen Flower. As he expected, there were only common weeds and wildflowers. Perhaps the ice flower was not visible until the coldest point of the night when it bloomed.

He hoped the flower would really be there.

Finally, night blanketed the mountain, and the goddess’s cave grew dark with somber shades of blue. Wen Ning and Jiang Cheng sat next to each other with their backs against the stone wall. Jiang Cheng was about to light a talisman.

“You d-don’t need to,” Wen Ning said. “You should sleep. I’m fine without light.”

The commonplace medicine from the village was not as effective as what Wen Ning had found on the mountain. This medicine was able to alleviate Jiang Cheng’s headache and soreness, but not the heat burning through his body.

Jiang Cheng had removed his outer robe to cool off. It hadn’t helped. At this rate, his hot breath was going to make the cave float into the sky like a paper lantern.

With a drowsy nod, Jiang Cheng fumbled with the talisman and tucked it back in his robes with shaking hands. His eyelids were heavy, but he didn’t look any closer to deciding to go to sleep.

“You really should rest. You were awake all day and the night before.”

After a long silence, Jiang Cheng adjusted his sweat-drenched robes and spoke, his voice weak and dry. “Do you sleep?”

“I’ll k-keep watch.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Can you sleep?”

Wen Ning paused, surprised by the question. Outside of the slightly invasive remarks of the juniors, it had been a long time since anyone showed interest in what his life was like as a fierce corpse. Everyone was too uncomfortable with his existence to be curious about the details.

“I can,” Wen Ning said. “I don’t need to, though.”

Jiang Cheng shifted his posture. “…Is it any different?”

“Y-Yes, a little.” Wen Ning folded his hands in his lab, gently fiddling with his fingers. “I don’t dream anymore, and I don’t feel any different when I wake up.”

Jiang Cheng looked displeased by this answer. Or maybe he always looked like that. Wen Ning tried to smile and said, “You get used to it.”

Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Right. The way one gets used to anything.”

Despite how sharp his tone was, there was something fragile in his voice. Wen Ning wasn’t sure if they were talking about sleep anymore.

There was no reason for Wen Ning to keep talking, but there was also no reason to stop, so he continued. “At least there are other sensations for me to feel. I can eat and breathe, although I can’t taste or smell. But I can still see and hear the same as I used to.”

As he spoke, Jiang Cheng seemed to deflate next to him. He couldn’t tell if Jiang Cheng’s body was just relaxing or collapsing in on itself. He must’ve really needed sleep. Maybe if Wen Ning talked for long enough, he would drift off.

“Really, all I need is to see, hear, and move. Then I can spend time with people. I can see A-Yuan, and Wei Wuxian, and…” He almost said Jin Ling. That would’ve been a mistake.

The breathing beside him steadied. A sound of slumbering.

Guessing that Jiang Cheng was no longer listening, Wen Ning let his words flow without thinking. “I miss my sense of touch, though. I’d like to feel something softer when I pet Hanguang-Jun’s rabbits.” He sighed. “I used to like so many things. Folding clothes, rolling pebbles in my hands. Feeling the sun at full strength.”

He smiled an empty smile to himself. “I miss the feel of people. Sometimes A-Yuan hugs me. I know what it’s supposed to feel like, and it doesn’t feel like that.” He traced the palm of his hand with a finger. “It doesn’t feel like what it should to A-Yuan, either.”

His mind wandered to Wei Wuxian. Being resurrected in Mo Xuanyu’s body came with its own set of problems for Wei Wuxian, but at least he looked and felt alive to everyone around him. Was alive.

His voice darkened. “I’m sure it’s much better for Wei Wuxian to hug A-Yuan.”

“A-Yuan,” Jiang Cheng echoed.

Wen Ning flinched. Jiang Cheng really was listening.

But if he was honest, that was what he had wanted, wasn’t it?

Jiang Cheng worked his mouth for a few moments. “Lan Sizhui is the only thing left of your clan that you…need.” It sounded like a question.

Where did that come from? With a perplexed tilt of his head, Wen Ning said, “W-W-Well, yes, I think so.”

“Then I…I shouldn’t have said that.” Jiang Cheng’s voice was murky, his eyes downcast.

“Said what?”

There was no reply.

Sifting through his memories of the day, Wen Ning recalled standing the street of the village, the air filled with dust and Jiang Cheng’s scornful words. What kind of descendant doesn’t guard the relics of his own clan?

It had stung. It still stung. Wen Ning could defeat any opponent in battle, but he couldn’t save his clan. Couldn’t even recover their belongings from the village.

He didn’t want to, he realized.

The surname Wen had died with his clan, and he had no intention of restoring it.

That made him feel guiltier.

And what of Wen Qing? What was left of her? No one spoke her name anymore, not even to praise her skills as a doctor. There was no record of her talents and discoveries, for they were all wasted on Wen Ruohan, purposely forgotten by the world. And her breakthrough as the first surgeon to transfer a golden core—well, no one wanted to remember that, either.

They had no legacy. The only people still here to pray that the Dafan Wen found an afterlife were Wen Ning, A-Yuan, and Wei Wuxian. And maybe Lan Wangji.

Although, after visiting the memorial today…

Jiang Cheng would never earn a spot on that list. But the idea of him trying didn’t seem so bad.

Back in the dry yellow streets of Dafan village. A-Yuan is my clan now, Wen Ning had said. It had made Jiang Cheng fall silent, eaten up his disdain, forced him to retreat.

Jiang Cheng also knew what it was like to have nothing left but a child.

It was a pity that he did.

“Go to sleep,” Wen Ning murmured.

Jiang Cheng grunted and closed his eyes. This time he really did fall asleep.

* * *

When Jiang Cheng awakened, he began ripping off his clothes.

“Jiang Wanyin? What’s happening?”

He threw his inner robes to the ground and frantically tugged at his trousers. “I’m burning.” He choked on the words.

Wen Ning jumped up and carried over a basin of water. “Here, you should dri—”

Jiang Cheng dumped the water all over his body, then lost his grip on the basin and poured the rest at Wen Ning’s feet. He finished removing his trousers and sprawled out on the cave floor on his stomach, completely naked, using the wet rock to cool himself.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” Wen Ning said, trying not to look at Jiang Cheng’s bare body. “I prepared the medicine, but I didn’t want to wake you up to give it to you.”

Jiang Cheng flipped onto his back. His eyes were shut tight, and his skin glistened with sweat and the water he had spilled on himself. He spread his limbs farther apart, practically melting into the cave floor.

Wen Ning grabbed a vial of medicine. He knelt down alongside Jiang Cheng, fumbling with the vial’s lid. “Here, I’ll give you another dose now.”

Jiang Cheng opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused. “Tastes bad.” He sounded drunk.

“You have to take it.” Wondering if he should even give two doses of medicine, Wen Ning placed a hand on Jiang Cheng’s forehead to feel his temperature.

A look of raw pleasure appeared on Jiang Cheng’s face.

Wen Ning jerked his hand away.

The expression vanished. Something in Jiang Cheng’s hazy consciousness seemed to recognize that he’d behaved inappropriately, and his eyes darted away.

Wen Ning rested a hand on his forehead again. The look returned. Jiang Cheng’s shoulders relaxed, and his lips parted, a near-silent moan escaping from them.

Warmth.

Without telling himself to do so, Wen Ning slid his hand down to cradle the side of Jiang Cheng’s face. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes and turned into Wen Ning’s palm, until his lips were pressed against the edge of Wen Ning’s hand. He stared at Wen Ning through the corners of narrow eyes rich with pleasure.

Wen Ning almost melted.

No one had welcomed his touch so ardently before. Never like this.

He was a corpse. Even A-Yuan avoided his cold hands.

But Jiang Cheng was hungry for them.

And Jiang Cheng felt hot. So hot that even Wen Ning could enjoy the warmth with his muted senses.

Somehow, the fever did not make Jiang Cheng look sick. It gave him a strange, tortured beauty.

Wen Ning tore his hand away. “Y-You need to take medicine.” He reached for the vial.

“Doesn’t help,” Jiang Cheng groaned. He grabbed at Wen Ning’s hand, but missed.

Wen Ning paused. Slowly, he lowered his arm and let Jiang Cheng take his wrist, heat rushing up his arm all the way to his shoulder. Without breaking eye contact, Jiang Cheng guided Wen Ning’s hand to place it on his collarbone. Jiang Cheng’s chest swelled up and down with deep breaths.

“You’re so cold.” His words were slurred.

“D-Do you…like—”

“It feels good.”

Wen Ning felt dizzy. He pulled his hand away, and Jiang Cheng reached after him with weak arms that he could barely lift. Wen Ning stumbled backward, his head spinning.

“Come back,” Jiang Cheng moaned.

This shouldn’t be happening, this shouldn’t be happening, this shouldn’t be—

“If you drink water and take the medicine,” Wen Ning said, his voice quivering, “I’ll…I’ll…touch you more.”

No! What are you thinking?

Jiang Cheng stretched out an arm limply on the floor toward Wen Ning. He opened his palm. “Okay.”

Wen Ning grabbed the water basin and hurried outside, more to escape Jiang Cheng’s greedy stare than to refill the basin.

When he reached the stream, he dropped onto his hands and knees. Dug his fingers into the mud of the stream’s bank, struggled to steady his swaying body.

After a while, he recovered some composure. He rinsed his hands, then submerged the basin and pulled it up. Looked at his reflection in the sloshing pool.

Empty eyes. Dead grey skin. Black veins.

If he looked hard enough, he could also see the heavy chains that for years had bound his neck and shoulders.

When Jiang Wanyin gets his senses back, he won’t remember you said that. He won’t ask you to touch him again.

Wen Ning should’ve felt relieved.

He didn’t.

At some point he must’ve stood up and then he was back in the cave, helping Jiang Cheng drink water and take the correct dose of medicine. After Jiang Cheng finished the medicine, he lay motionless on his back for a long time. Then he furrowed his brow and stared at the cave ceiling, blinking, as if he were waking up and processing his surroundings for the first time.

Wen Ning waited for a sharp remark. A jab in Jiang Cheng’s tone that would push him and his wayward thoughts back to where they belonged.

Instead:

“Well?”

His voice was clear. Sober.

“Well what?” Wen Ning asked. Had to ask, because it wasn’t possible that Jiang Cheng was waiting for what Wen Ning thought he was.

Jiang Cheng seemed to regret speaking as soon as Wen Ning asked. His gaze darted away. His body tensed.

“…Do you…”

“Nothing,” Jiang Cheng snapped.

Something ravenous surged through Wen Ning’s body. His fists clenched, and he was brimming with agitation, an urge to move, to do anything but kneel here in stillness.

How dare Jiang Cheng dangle this temptation in front of his nose, only to swipe it away and flee with it? He had heard Wen Ning talking before about how he missed the touch of other people.

He knew. He must’ve known what this would to do Wen Ning.

How dare he?

“You still want me to—”

“I don’t!” Jiang Cheng finally looked at Wen Ning, and his face was all angles and panicked fury. He winced, as if shouting had worsened his headache.

Wen Ning pressed his hands onto his knees, gripping them, squeezing them. “Don’t yell at me,” he said quietly.

Jiang Cheng’s lips twinged as if he were about to retort. Then he bit it back and turned to look at the ceiling again.

Everything was silent, except for the roaring in Wen Ning’s ears as he fought to hold himself still.

You’re a corpse. You can’t touch him. You don’t even like him.

Jiang Cheng mumbled something he couldn’t hear.

“What?” There was more urgency in Wen Ning’s voice than he wanted.

Jiang Cheng turned his face away completely. “…Maybe.”

Something leaped in Wen Ning’s chest.

His mind screamed at him not to start, not to go somewhere he was forbidden, but his hand was already pressed firmly into Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.

A heavy exhale escaped Jiang Cheng once Wen Ning touched him. His face tilted a few degrees toward Wen Ning, and now Wen Ning could see the flush across his cheeks, a deep red visible even in the darkness of the cave.

“Is that all?” Jiang Cheng’s voice had all its usual spite, but none if its certainty. “Are—are you scared or something?”

Wen Ning grabbed Jiang Cheng’s jaw and jerked his face toward him. Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened. His breath quivered.

“I think you’re the one who’s scared.”

Jiang Cheng swallowed. “Wen Qionglin.” He almost whimpered the name, his eyes wide and fragile like paper moons.

Suddenly Wen Ning was overcome with an urge to hear his birth name like that.

“Wen Ning.” He slowly released Jiang Cheng’s chin and placed the hand on his shoulder.

“Wen Ning,” Jiang Cheng repeated, like he was tasting the words.

Jiang Cheng’s shoulders were hot. His entire body was hot. Wen Ning rubbed his hands across him in small circles at first, then gradually into long sweeps along his entire torso, down to his hips and out to his biceps, massaging gently, letting the heat trickle into his skin. Jiang Cheng’s eyelids were closed, but Wen Ning could still see the pleasure behind them.

The rest happened in a blur. Fingers at the ties of his robes—were they his hands? Jiang Cheng’s? both?—and then the layers dropped and they didn’t matter anymore, and Wen Ning was lying on top of Jiang Cheng and there were fingers dug in his sides and his face was buried in Jiang Cheng’s neck, and he was so very warm.

Since his death, Wen Ning had started spending a lot of time sitting in the sunshine. He’d bake himself in sunbeams, trying to absorb them like some sleepy cold-blooded monster, imagining that he felt as warm as he did under that same sun during his childhood.

Of course, he never felt that warm.

Sometimes he wished that he could throw a rope around the sun and tug it to the ground so it could sit next to him. So it’s heat would be right beside him and he could touch it. Then the sun would feel the way it used to.

And if the sun felt the way it used to, then, surely, the rest of his life would be back to the way it was. His sense of smell, his heartbeat, Granny, A-Jie—everything. The way it was before the war.

Before the Sunshot Campaign.

Sunshot. How aptly named.

If the war had never happened, could he and Jiang Cheng have been like this in another time?

Wen Ning nuzzled his face deeper into Jiang Cheng’s neck. Jiang Cheng was not as warm as the sun, but he was a person, and that felt even more impossible.

As a fierce corpse, it was just as hard for Wen Ning to touch a person with his bare skin as it was to shoot down the sun.

Especially to touch a person like this.

He lifted his face toward Jiang Cheng’s ear. “Jiang Wanyin?”

“Mn?”

“Do you…like this?”

Jiang Cheng’s body stiffened. He was quiet for a long time.

“…Do you?” he finally said.

Do I?

Wen Ning thought about it. He liked how comfortable he felt.

But this was only happening because Jiang Cheng wanted to cool himself down. If Jiang Cheng hadn’t been burning from the Four-Sunsets Flu, he would’ve had no reason to touch Wen Ning.

He would’ve had no reason to be in the same place as Wen Ning.

Something sank inside him as he realized this was going to end eventually. They would go back to resenting each other, and it would never happen again.

“I think I hate it,” Wen Ning said.

Jiang Cheng shifted his jaw. “I hate it too.”

He buried his face back in Jiang Cheng’s neck. “You don’t hate it enough.”

He pressed his lips into something soft and hot, pulled at it with a kiss, running his teeth over skin. Jiang Cheng sucked in a breath.

He dug this way at Jiang Cheng’s neck, then his shoulders, then his chest, desperately hunting for a spot that would make Jiang Cheng reject him with disgust and shove him to the ground like the carcass he was.

“Wen Ning—” Had he finally done it? “Wen Ning—stop—”

He looked up at Jiang Cheng, who was watching him and frowning.

He waited for the insult.

Jiang Cheng tried to push him to the side. His arms barely had any strength, so Wen Ning just followed the push and rolled himself off Jiang Cheng’s body.

For the first time, the cave floor felt cold.

“We—”

Jiang Cheng pulled his upper body on top of Wen Ning before Wen Ning could say anything. He froze in shock.

Jiang Cheng lowered his lips to Wen Ning’s neck and planted a timid kiss on his skin. He tried to run his hands along Wen Ning’s chest and kiss him again, but he soon fell limp and motionless.

Maybe he was exhausted.

More likely, he hadn’t meant any of this, and regretted starting.

Wen Ning reached up and rested his hands on Jiang Cheng’s arms, gently squeezing him. “You don’t need to do anything.”

“I’m…tired…”

“Then rest.” Wen Ning lifted Jiang Cheng off his body and laid him on the cave floor.

Jiang Cheng struggled feebly. Once his back met the dark rock again, he scoffed. “You didn’t let me finish talking.” The familiar glint of derision was back in his eyes.

“Then what were you going to say?”

He looked away. His voice became wobbly. “I’m tired of…of not…doing anything.” He drew in a breath. “Receiving, and not…” He trailed off.

There was more meaning in those words than could fit in the air between them.

Wen Ning’s gut plummeted.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Jiang Cheng blinked at him.

There were words he had never said, but had thought about saying for a long time, and they all came tumbling out.

“We never asked if you wanted it. It’s just, Wei Wuxian was begging us. He was so determined to do it, and I saw how much he c-c-cared about you. He said it was the most important thing to you, so I—I helped him convince my sister—"

“I don’t want to hear this,” Jiang Cheng snapped. He sat up. “I get it. You’re not like me.”

They glared at each other, hostile static between their eyes.

“You did everything you were supposed to for Wei Wuxian, didn’t you?” He wrinkled his nose and coughed out a scornful laugh. “His perfect, loyal little servant—”

Wen Ning shoved Jiang Cheng down, climbed on top of him and pinned his arms to the ground.

A nerve had snapped inside him. Resentful energy clawed up his throat.

“I am not Wei Wuxian’s servant.”

A wave of catharsis crashed through Wen Ning. Rushed out of his body with those words.

“Is that all you think I am? Wei Wuxian’s Ghost General?”

Jiang Cheng stopped struggling and fell limp, gaping up at him.

Wen Ning didn’t know what he looked like right now, but he might’ve been snarling.

“If all I am is the Ghost General,” he leaned down to Jiang Cheng’s face, “I could treat you very differently right now.”

Fear flashed through Jiang Cheng’s eyes.

Good. Be scared of me. Everyone is scared of me.

He pressed harder into Jiang Cheng’s wrists like he wanted to drive them through the stone floor. Satisfaction swelled inside him at the sight of the Jiang Clan Leader so frightened, so helpless.

Jiang Cheng’s lips quivered. “Then do it.”

Wen Ning kissed him on the mouth. Hard.

Whatever he had expected it to feel like, he hadn’t expected to feel it so fully, and he hadn’t expected to be kissed back.

Soon their bodies were in a tangle, and Wen Ning had wandered elsewhere, his hands tracing lower on Jiang Cheng’s body.

Jiang Cheng flinched, as if he knew what Wen Ning intended to do. “Stop, Wen Ning,” Jiang Cheng moaned. “Stop, I—I can’t—I don’t want that—”

Wen Ning pulled away.

What do you mean, he wanted to ask. But regret and shame had caught up to him as soon as Jiang Cheng spoke.

He had nothing that a living person would want. It was already a miracle that he and Jiang Cheng had even touched each other. What right did he have to ask for more?

“Okay,” Wen Ning said softly, and settled himself on the floor a short distance away.

Jiang Cheng looked uncomfortable.

Suddenly Wen Ning wanted to sink into the ground and hide.

Don’t you know what you are?

All Jiang Cheng had wanted was to cool himself off, and Wen Ning had taken it as an invitation to be…to be with him like a real person.

He’d never get an invitation like that.

He wasn’t a person. He was a weapon. A tool. He had pushed beyond his utility to Jiang Cheng, and now it was over.

“Are you just going to sit there?” Jiang Cheng said.

“S-Sorry.” Wen Ning stood and walked over to his robes to cover himself. And after that, who knows where he’d go. It wouldn’t be somewhere in this cave.

“What’re you doing?” Jiang Cheng spat out the words, but his voice was hoarse and unsure. “I’m not done with you.”

Wen Ning glared at him. “You never started anything to be done with.”

Jiang Cheng’s face fell. His mouth opened and closed a few times. “I…”

This was all a mistake.

“I don’t think that,” Jiang Cheng murmured.

Wen Ning ignored him and began to sling on his robes.

“I don’t think that!”

“Think what?”

Jiang Cheng collapsed his upper body back onto the cave floor and stared at the ceiling. “How the hell am I supposed to just think you’re the Ghost General?” He clenched his fists. “Do you know how hard I try to do that?”

Wen Ning mindlessly crumpled the robes in his hands.

“Both of you are horrible. You. Wei Wuxian.”

The robes were back on the ground, and Wen Ning was standing over Jiang Cheng.

He scowled and looked away. “You should’ve stayed away from me and Jin Ling if you wanted me to hate you.”

Wen Ning was sitting next to him.

“Did you forget I’m sick right now?” Jiang Cheng swallowed. His voice softened. “I didn’t want to…that…I only…”

Wen Ning lay on his side next to Jiang Cheng, and loathed himself for being there, feeling exposed, desperate. Stupid.

“Just start over.”

Wen Ning forgot which of them moved first, but then again it didn’t really matter—none of this would matter once it was over—and they lay on their sides facing each other, arms around each other, chests gently pressed together, legs slightly intertwined. Warmth embraced Wen Ning once more.

After a while, Jiang Cheng dozed off.

He had asked this at least twice before, but Jiang Cheng would not hear him, so Wen Ning asked again, “Do you like this?”

Jiang Cheng made a low sound that could’ve been a yes or a no. Perhaps it was both. “Warmer now,” he said, half-asleep, his words slurred.

Of course.

Wen Ning had hugged Jiang Cheng so long that his body had absorbed the heat, and now he even radiated warmth of his own. His usefulness was truly used up.

“Sorry.” He moved to sit up. “I’ll let you sleep now.”

Jiang Cheng wrapped his arms tighter around him, which didn’t do much given how weak and drowsy he was, but Wen Ning felt it so strongly that if he had breath left, it would’ve been squeezed out of him.

“Where are you going?” It sounded like a plea.

With trembling hands, Wen Ning easily peeled Jiang Cheng’s arms off him and pulled away again. “I can’t cool you off anymore.” He stood and slowly turned to walk toward the pile of his robes.

“Why does everyone keep leaving?”

Wen Ning froze.

Something had broken in Jiang Cheng’s voice.

His eyes were closed, his cheeks pink and damp. His expression had fallen as if dropped off a cliff and cracked open raw on the ground.

Wen Ning weaved himself back in between the spaces of Jiang Cheng’s body. Put one hand on the back of Jiang Cheng’s head and tucked it below his chin. Pressed his face into soft hair.

“Don’t leave,” Jiang Cheng murmured into Wen Ning’s neck. Maybe he was talking to someone in a dream. Maybe to Wen Ning. Maybe to everyone at once.

“I won’t.”

This time, they both fell asleep.

* * *

In the earliest, coldest hours of dawn, Wen Ning went alone to the west side of Dafan Mountain and found the Ever-Frozen Flower at the center of the forest, glowing like enchanted ice in a patch of blue-tinted weeds. He dripped its nectar into a tiny glass vial and left, not bothering to stay and watch the bloom shrivel up once the air grew warmer.

He wondered when was the last time someone touched that flower.

It would’ve been one of his ancestors. Even with all the knowledge that had been lost, small fragments of his family’s work remained to help Wen Ning.

Perhaps the Dafan Wen weren’t quite dead yet.

He gave a drop of nectar to Jiang Cheng. Once he was strong enough to fly on his sword, they journeyed back to the Cloud Recesses.

They said not one word to each other.

The juniors celebrated their return, welcoming them with cheers and waves, ushering them to the cold springs where Wen Ning let Wei Wuxian feed the drop of nectar to Lan Wangji, and soon Lan Wangji was cured.

No one knew that Jiang Cheng had caught the Four-Sunsets Flu. They didn’t need to.

Next they stood at the gate of the Cloud Recesses, Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian on one side, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling on the other.

“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said. He was beaming. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

Wen Ning and Jiang Cheng only nodded. They still didn’t speak, because if they said something to Wei Wuxian, it might have been mistaken as saying something to each other.

Jiang Cheng turned to Jin Ling. “Let’s go,” he said in a low voice.

“Bye, Wei-shishu. Wen-qianbei,” Jin Ling said with a shy wave before following his uncle.

Wei Wuxian smiled, patted Wen Ning on the shoulder, and headed up the stone path back to the Cloud Recesses.

Wen Ning stood motionless, watching Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling walk away.

After a while, his mind wandered. He wasn’t sure what he had been thinking about, but when he came back to the present, Jiang Cheng was standing in front of him.

“J-Jiang Wanyin—”

He scowled. “I hope I don’t see you again.” Then the lines in his face softened, and he looked down. A tint of redness colored his cheeks. “But next time I do…call me Jiang Cheng.”

He turned around abruptly and marched away, his figure all flowing violet robes and angry movements. He pointed down the path and barked something at Jin Ling, then walked even faster.

Wen Ning laughed quietly to himself. “See you next time, Jiang Cheng.”

* * *

Two weeks later, Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and A-Yuan received invitations for a visit to Lotus Pier.

And so did Wen Ning.

That was a surprise.

“The mighty Sandu Shengshou must be feeling especially generous,” Wei Wuxian said with a chuckle as he examined Wen Ning’s invitation.

“I guess so,” Wen Ning said.

Wei Wuxian’s expression turned more serious. “Do you want to go?”

Wen Ning smiled. “I do.”

And so he went to Lotus Pier, by invitation.

The Jiang Clan was holding a martial ceremony and a small festival. It was nothing that outsiders would normally attend, but then again, Wei Wuxian wasn’t exactly an outsider, so maybe the rest of them weren’t either.

After a round of greetings, Wen Ning slinked away for somewhere to be alone.

When he had traveled with A-Yuan to Dafan Mountain to construct the memorial, they had taken plenty of detours, and stumbled into enough festivals for Wen Ning to learn that it was best to keep his distance from crowds.

He found a small pond with cattails, lotus flowers, and a short bridge passing over it. He stood on the bridge and leaned on the railing, watching the dragonflies flittering over the pond, admiring the bustling activities and vibrant colors of the festival a short distance away, listening to music and joyful voices.

Once in a while, A-Yuan would run over to him and show him something. A drum-rattle with a butterfly painted on its small canvas, a spicy kebab that he described the taste of, a red tassel that looked like the one Granny had made so long ago. Wen Ning let A-Yuan buy the tassel for him.

Dusk fell over Lotus Pier, and soon warm lanterns glowed everywhere.

A set of footsteps beside him. He turned. “Jiang Cheng.”

Jiang Cheng nodded. He stood at the edge of the bridge, studying Wen Ning and then scanning the festival. He seemed to have something to say, but his mouth didn’t open.

“Thank you for the invitation.”

“Don’t think too much of it,” Jiang Cheng said irritably. He turned away. “I…have something to give you.”

Surprised, Wen Ning raised his eyebrows and followed Jiang Cheng through a carved panel door into one of the palaces of Lotus Pier, through winding hallways, around corners, until they arrived at another set of doors.

Jiang Cheng opened them. They stepped into a velvety, dimly lit room. It was Jiang Cheng’s living quarters.

Wen Ning waited in the center of the room, unsure of what to do with himself, while Jiang Cheng stepped over to a shelf and pulled something out.

He lifted Wen Ning’s arm and dropped a small tan pouch into his palm.

It was a spirit-trapping pouch. Wen Ning stared at it for a few moments. “What’s this?”

Jiang Cheng kneaded his lips together and looked away. “From Dafan Mountain.”

“Th-The goddess?” In the cave on Dafan Mountain, Jiang Cheng had ordered Wen Ning to leave after he summoned the goddess, and pulled out this pouch. Had he captured the goddess’s spirit to take back to Lotus Pier? Why would he do something like that?

“No, not her.” Jiang Cheng said slowly. He looked guiltier with each word. “I let her go after she talked to me.”

“Then who is it?”

“…You.”

Wen Ning froze.

He let his mouth fall open.

“Wh-What do you mean, me, how is it—”

“It’s a soul fragment.”

The piece of his soul the Goddess Statue had stolen when he was a child.

How can this be?

Suddenly he wanted to throw the pouch across the room, to get it as far away from it as possible.

“How?”

“I didn’t believe it when it happened,” Jiang Cheng said. “I didn’t want to tell you if it wasn’t true, so I…” His shoulders tightened. “So I took it back to Lotus Pier to confirm, and, well, it’s definitely you.”

Wen Ning didn’t know what to say.

“If you want,” Jiang Cheng paused, clenching and unclenching his fists like he was fighting with himself. “If you want, Wei Wuxian can probably do something with it. Put it back in you or something. Make things feel a little better for you.”

“I don’t want it,” Wen Ning said darkly.

He should’ve felt grateful. He had always wished that his soul was complete, that his cultivation abilities were what they should’ve been. Recovering his missing soul fragment would help his spirit be whole. It would help him fight the resentful energy inside him, grant him peace.

But Wen Ning did not feel grateful.

Does he think I need this? That I need to be fixed?

If he was supposed to put this soul fragment back in himself—to make himself more human, he guessed—then what was he supposed to do about his body? What was the point when there was no fixing the rest of him?

This soul fragment didn’t belong to him anymore, just like his living body didn’t belong to him anymore.

He had hoped that Jiang Cheng meant what he said that night, that he didn’t just think of Wen Ning as the Ghost General, didn’t just think of him as a corpse.

That sometimes he forgot, and then Wen Ning could’ve forgotten too.

He’d been wrong.

He handed the pouch back.

“That’s fine, then,” Jiang Cheng said calmly as he took the pouch. “Didn’t think you’d want it anyway.”

“Huh?”

“You seem fine without it.” He shrugged. “But it would be better to ask.”

Whatever had dragged Wen Ning down before, its pressure lifted, and Wen Ning’s spirits rose.

He doesn’t think I need it.

Their eyes met, and a bridge passed through the space between them.

It made sense that he’d say this. Jiang Cheng had something inside him that no one had asked if he wanted.

That was partly Wen Ning’s fault.

His insides churned with a question. “Jiang Cheng?”

“What?”

“On Dafan Mountain, if you hadn’t been so tired, would we have…” He took a step back. He folded his hands and stared at the floor. “Would we have done more?”

The silence gnawed at Wen Ning’s ears. He felt his heart sink lower and lower as he waited.

“No.”

“…Oh.”

Wen Ning turned for the door. “I’ll take my leave, Jiang-zongzhu.”

“It’s not because of that.”

Wen Ning stood in the doorway, resting a hand on the door frame and gazing down the hall, trying not to let himself quiver.

“It’s not because of you.” He heard Jiang Cheng step closer. “I’m just…I’m…” Anger barbed his voice. “I’m not the right man. Barely even a man. I can’t give you anything.”

“What do you mean?” Wen Ning said quietly.

Jiang Cheng’s voice became even quieter than Wen Ning’s. “Why do you think the Jiang Clan doesn’t have an heir?”

“Because every woman has blacklisted you.”

“You!—” He took a moment to steady his breath and lower his voice. “And what do you think is the reason for that? Bad-tempered, loud, hostile—I know what they all say—and on top of that, I…I don’t…desire. Not like that. Not for everything I should.” He sounded like he wanted to hit himself. “A pathetic husband I’d make.”

Wen Ning finally turned back to the room. Jiang Cheng looked away immediately, his jaw and fists clenched, his face red.

“That’s not pathetic.”

Then Wen Ning’s chest knotted with guilt. He felt like he had dirtied a home that wasn’t his. “Did you…desire any of it? That night?”

Jiang Cheng swallowed. His voice cracked. “I did like some of it.”

Maybe it was different for Wen Ning, banished from human touch for years, but he couldn’t imagine how someone would find this a problem. If that was the farthest Wen Ning went for the rest of eternity, he still would’ve been beyond happy.

“Then only doing those things is enough.”

“Enough for whom?”

Wen Ning stood still for a few moments, feeling like he was balancing on a tightrope.

Enough for me.

Except.

The ghosts of the past had built a wall between them, shattering the bridge to nowhere.

They had spent a long time without acknowledging it, but they still hadn’t fully forgiven each other, and it might've been a while until they did. The existence of the other was as much a source of pain as it had the potential to be a source of joy.

Maybe they could be friends one day. But to become something more, to do that again…

It just wasn’t time.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes darkened, as if he knew it too.

“It’ll be enough for whomever you choose,” Wen Ning said. “Maybe…” He didn’t finish.

He left. Tried not to feel anything, wished that his emotions were as dulled as his sense of taste and touch.

“Wen Ning.” Jiang Cheng had followed him into the hallway.

He stopped and turned halfway around.

“…Thank you.”

Wen Ning gave a half-hearted smile. “Please don’t thank me, and don’t tell me you’re sorry, either.”

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth. Closed it.

He nodded and disappeared back into his room.

* * *

That night, Wen Ning left Lotus Pier by himself. He’d meet the others back at the Cloud Recesses.

Sometime.

For now, he just wanted to wander underneath the moon.

Hours later, he found himself back on Dafan Mountain, in front of his family’s memorial. He bowed, then knelt on the ground, stroking the dirt, wondering if he could write a message in it and have it reach his family.

He thought of how he stood here in the sun with Jiang Cheng, holding his hand.

Squeezing Jiang Cheng’s hand like Wen Qing used to squeeze his.

His throat caught.

Why does it have to be him?

He scraped the ground and let dirt wedge under his fingernails. Then he placed his hands on the memorial stone, pressed his face on it. It still didn’t feel like anything.

He tried humming a song from his childhood, but it didn’t vibrate in his chest like it used to.

A gentle pat on his head.

He put his face in his dirt-stained hands and sobbed waterless tears.

If only one person were alive to forget Wen Ning was dead, he wished it could’ve been his sister instead.

* * *

Two days later, Wen Ning received another letter.

The soul fragment has been put to rest.

You are always welcome in Lotus Pier.

Jiang Cheng.

It made him smile.

He carried the note in his robes from then on. Some days it felt like nothing, some days it felt like a deadweight, and some days it felt like a good luck charm he could use when he was ready.

But it always made him feel a little more alive.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by liking, reblogging, and visiting me on AO3.

Happy ending bonus scene >

[magical-awesome-kid]

I just thought of something.

You know what would have been great after Chloe got real pissed at Ladybug because she took the miraculous away and making that horrible deal with Hawkmoth? She finds out Adrien is Chat.

A part of me, the one influenced by Thomas’ campaign to make a 14 year old the second worst person in Paris, wants her to go off the deep end.

Like her holding his secret identity over his head to get him to be her boyfriend, to do horrible things, to be terrible to others. The angst would be amazing.

On the other hand, the slightly more rational and utterly fluffy me wants to see her go Full Zuko Redemption.

She goes through denial. She can’t believe it. That mangy hero and his terrible lady. No way could the cat be Adrien. She’ll go out of her way to tell everyone this.

Then the pieces start to fall together and oh shit. Maybe Adrien is Chat.

She goes through a period where she is a little more distant from everyone. She knows that there are students in her classroom that have held Miraculous thanks to her term under Hawkmoth. Who else would be a hero? Alya was Rena Rogue, Nino was Carapace. There was that Bunny Lady, who Chloe had no clue about. Was it a teacher? A student? Heck, was Ladybug in their midst?

She doesn’t want to tell even Sabrina, but she does get nicer. Sabrina’s been Akumatized because of Chloe and oh gosh she’s done terrible things to people and made poor Adrien suffer (she’s seen pictures and heard stories - Chat is always getting hurt).

Then she breaks and goes Full Feral Chloe and just. Kidnaps Adrien. Full stop does not care tells her dad to call his dad and make up excuses because he is with HER now.

And Adrien knows the signs of full feral and is like “Chloe are you ok? Do you need a hug?” Fully best boy. Does not want his friend to suffer (their friendship had drifted since starting school but Adrien was someone who tried to never give up on anyone).

Chloe is like “Am I ok? AM I OK? You were thrown through a wall last week! Turned into a talking Banana the week before! You had that week long akuma fight and still showed up to everything! I KNEW you looked terrible!”

Adrien is so confused because he has no idea what is going on he has feral Chloe but then pieces click together as she rants and he internally Flips. Did she…

“Chloe, I’m not…”

“Nope! Shut it, Adrikins! I know your secret! For heavens sake, where was I? Oh yeah, the BUILDING FIRE!”

So Chloe stews but when she’s done she falls on whatever couch she’s had Adrien sitting on and sighs heavily. Adrien is trying to keep calm as he puts a hand on her shoulder. “Better?” He asks.

“No.” She replies, sniffing. “You’re the hero partner of that dumb bug, and I can’t even ream out Hawkmoth for making you do that. She’s a jerk, and he’s worse.”

“I’m not…”

“Can it or I can you. I know for sure.”

Adrien sighs as Plagg flies out. “Cat’s outta the bag, kid.” The Kwami jokes. “I’m Plagg, by the way. You got any cheese?”

“I’ll call you a charcuterie board in a second.” Chloe returns.

“Kid, I like this one.”

Adrien runs his face. “Now what? What are you going to do with this info? If you tell anyone, then Me and everyone will be in danger.” He clenches his fists. “My dad was already turned once. I can’t let that happen again.”

“As much as I would like to tell everyone that you are a superhero, I won’t tell.” She replies, lying her head on his shoulder. “But you gotta tell me who Ladybug is.”

“I wish I knew.” He sighs. “We got our miraculous from the original Guardian, Fu, before he passed it on to her. I only know a few of the other heroes.” He paused. “Also I like Ladybug so please be nice.”

“UHG but she’s so ANNOYING!”

They spend a few hours talking things over and Chloe agrees not to tell only if Adrien agrees to a mani-pedi day down in their spa and to gossip. Adrien laughs and accepts, and he’s weirdly at peace with this?

Chloe now goes out of her way to make Adrien’s life as easy as possible. Any time he needs an out, she’ll either pull a distraction (“the cameras love me, Adrikins”) or outright have her father make some calls to cover for the boy. She nearly slips a few times, but she is still a good liar. She still feuds with Ladybug (and Marinette, but that’s unrelated.).

Then she gets Akumized again. Her half-sister Zoe appears, and Chloe gets a bit jealous at how easily she gets along with everyone. How nice she is.

And then when the new Bee Miraculous shows up, she knows.

Hawkmoth can’t read latent thoughts, only current ones, and Chloe, upon realizing who is in her head and what is going on, goes Full Feral and just SCREAMS at Hawkmoth because he just KEEPS CAUSING TROUBLE FOR HER FRIENDS! She never explicitly says Adrien and Chat are the same but ho boy does she lay into Hawkmoth because he has Pissed Her Off.

The fighting causes earthquake ripples bringing Ladybug and Chat to her. Upon seeing Chat, she finally throws the stupid butterfly out of her brain for good.

Ladybug, having figured out the charm, tried to offer one to Chloe, but she won’t take it unless Chat makes it. Adrien is like “that’s now how it works” but Ladybug encourages him to try. He finds that he can make his own charm, one that “destroys” anger and sadness through calming purr-like vibrations. It looks like Ladybug’s charm for Chloe but no dots and instead with little added cat ears.

Chloe accepts that, huffing that Chat is obviously the better hero because he can do everything Ladybug does AND BETTER and storms off, slipping in the charm, which took the form of a ring.

Overtime Chloe is still a little evil, but she uses her powers for good. When an Akuma comes for her, with the charm, it can land on her but not take. She goes out of her way to catch them like a mini hero. It doesn’t always work, but she’s doing her best.

Adrien finally brings it up with Ladybug as Chat. He thinks Chloe is trying and that she could make an amazing hero again, especially since Carapace and Rena have returned even with their identities blown. Ladybug doesn’t want to agree, but Tikki points out how much Chloe has gotten better.

She doesn’t get the Bee back. That will stay designated to Zoe.

But maybe there is another that fits her best…