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themaribatpit · 3 years ago

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Jasonette July Day 10: Light

Written by: The Maribat Pit @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Light Rated: T A/N: This is just a fun silly story.

"Aren't we a little old for this?" Marinette wondered aloud, the three of them decided to move to Gotham city after they finished Lycée.

"We live in a world with superheroes, magic, and literal aliens, but you don't think there's anything spooky about Wayne Manor?" Alya cocked an eyebrow, Marinette shook her head.

"I hate to agree with Marinette," Chloe sighed, "but maybe getting in trouble with the local billionaire is probably not the first thing people do when they move to a new city".

"Hey, you're the one who said there was something off about them." Alya argued.

"I said one of them looked like his son who died a few years ago." Chloe reminded her. "Besides, when I met this person, he seemed bored by the whole thing. Probably counting the number of drinks he could down until it was over." "So you're just mad he didn't want to talk to you?" Alya joked.

"I think the only words he said to me were, 'do you have a light?' and nothing else." Chloe recalled. They both looked up to find that while they were bickering, Marinette was gone. "See, Marinette thought this whole thing was so stupid that she just walked away and left us here." Chloe scoffed. She would have been right, had Alya not seen Marinette climbing down the other side of the wall.

"What are you thinking?" Chloe hissed.

"Bring me back a souvenir" Alya called, before Chloe clamped her mouth shut with her hand.

Marinette looked around the old manor house, as she felt the crunch of gravel beneath her shoes. It was certainly the kind of place people thought of when they imagined a place that housed a literally bloodthirsty coven of vampires. As she came to a pair of large double doors, she looked back to see that Chloe and Alya had gone back to arguing. There was no turning back now, as she pushed open one of the heavy doors and let herself in.

She didn’t know how to feel when she found out that the big, grand, old manor house was also dark and empty. She also thought it was dark, but didn’t want to alert anyone by turning the lights on. Marinette saw there was a candle on the side table, probably used because it smelled nice more than anything. She picked up the candle and took a little whiff before lighting it with a small lighter she kept in her handbag. Gently and quietly, she decided to explore the grand old house. Maybe find something to prove to Alya and Chloe that she had been inside. Jason preferred to keep to himself in the library, Bruce and the others were away attending an event that he and Alfred were exempt from. It means that he got to sit by the window and immerse himself in yet another slow burn gothic novel. Most likely one involving a Byronic hero and the ingenue who is drawn to him like a moth to a flame. At the very least, it meant an afternoon where he wouldn’t be disturbed by Bruce, Dick, Replacement or Demon Spawn. His plan was cut short, however, when he heard the creak of the door to the library. Jason took one look and saw that it wasn’t Alfred. For one thing, this person looked more like a small young woman. Was she Replacement’s secretary? No. For one thing she was dressed in casual clothes, and secondly she was carrying a small candle in her hands. She carefully set it down on the library table, trying to keep it as far away from the other books as possible. Marinette set foot inside what looked like a library inside the house. She set the candle down on the library table, and was startled to find that there was, in fact, someone in this house. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, Marinette swallowed as she tried to think of an excuse. “I uh, I’m here because,” she stammered, the man staring down at her raised an eyebrow. As if waiting for whatever excuse she came up with and knowing full well it would be a lie. “I spent the night here, and got lost on my way out.” Marinette spluttered, if they were anything like Chloe described, at least one of them would be the type to bring girls back here. Though if Alya’s vampire theory was true, who’s to say that the girls who entered this house ever left. Still, she had to give it a try. “Alright then, with who?” he asked, there was a smirk on his face, as if to say “this was going to be good”. Marinette’s mind scrambled for a name that Chloe might have mentioned, “Tim?” she said. “Was that a question or an answer?” the man asked. “Little Timmy the usurper isn't one to bring girls in.” “How would you know?” she asked, “I mean he’s one of the youngest CEOs in Gotham City, never mind the world”. So that’s how she was going to play it. Jason was slightly disappointed, if she was going to lie about spending the night here she could at least make it sound believable. She wore a pink bunny rabbit hoodie and a pair of jeans with some pink flats. It was cute but not flashy enough to make her excuse believable. Besides, nothing and no one made their way in or out of Wayne Manor without Alfred knowing. “Well when you put it that way, why don't you tell me, what were you and Timmy doing last night?” Jason asked, the jig was up, he gave her points for creativity. If she answered anything besides “watch in horror as Tim drank his 10th espresso” it was game over. Instead she said nothing, because she didn’t do anything. “So why did you really come here?” he asked, smirking down at her. “Who sent you here? And this time, name someone who actually has a chance with a girl.” Jason joked. “No one, well,” Marinette stammered, she really didn’t want to throw Chloe and Alya under the bus. “One of my friends thought she saw you at a party, and thought you looked familiar. Another friend thought you were a vampire, for some reason, I don’t know and…” Marinette realised how silly this was all starting to sound. If she had any dignity left, she would run for the front door and consider moving to Metropolis and never show her face in Gotham City ever again. “You had me at ‘vampire’, so what, your friends want you to come back with a hickey?” Jason asked, the young woman’s face turned beet red. “N-no, not exactly, just proof that one of them is right or wrong, I guess.” Jason found this absolutely hilarious, she wasn’t entirely wrong. He just didn’t have the fangs or the shapeshifting powers. If someone could keep him in his next coffin by putting a rose stalk on it, that would be nice. If he was going to be legally dead, he might as well have some fun with it. Chloe and Alya were pacing the outside of the manor, worried that someone walking past would think that they looked suspicious. Moments later, they saw an elderly man hold the door open while Marinette skipped out the front door. Alya and Chloe watched in amazement as she waved a little polaroid photo in her hand. “Where were you?” Alya asked, “were you in the house or the pocket dimension?”. “It took me a while, but I managed to get you this,” she whipped out the photo for the both of them to see. In her hand was a polaroid of the boy that Chloe had met at the gala, only this time he was standing in front of a mirror with no reflection. Upon seeing the photo of the man without a reflection, Chloe felt faint, while Alya grabbed the photo for a closer look. “See, see? I was right”! she cheered. Chloe placed a hand on a nearby lamppost “This isn't something to be cheering about! We need to get out of here!” Marinette watched as they argued while keeping her real gift close to her chest, a little card that said “an invitation from a vampire to come back and visit sometime -J”. Marinette smiled as she pocketed the note, listening to her friends bicker all the way home.

#jasonettejuly2021 #jasonette #ml x dc #maribat

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syndianites · 3 years ago

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A Queen Serve and Protects

Chapter Six

First Chapter –> Last Chapter –> Current –> Next Chapter TBA! Summary:

Post-Style Queen, Pre-Queen Wasp.

Chloe finds the Bee Miraculous, but instead of finding an obliging, subservient Kwami, she finds the Kwami of Order and Subjugation, and Pollen is not about to let herself be used like Nooroo was.

Granted, the only danger in a teenage girl is the damage she poses to herself. Can Pollen shape Chloe into a hero? Or will she stubbornly refuse to change and remain the bitter, harsh person the city has long since known?

[My take on how Chloe’s character could have developed] ——————————————————————————————

Pollen tapped the tablet pen on the table. School had ended and the duo was officially home.

“Chloe,” Pollen began. “It has come to my attention that you don’t do your own work.”

“So?” Chloe nonchalantly replied, crossing one leg over the other from where she sat on the chaise in front of Pollen.

Pollen tried not to roll her eyes. “So, I want you to learn how to be self-sufficient.”

Chloe scoffed. “I am plenty self-sufficient.”

“Really?” Pollen had a sweet smile on her face. “Then prove it.”

:readmore:

Before Chloe could make any remark, Polle flew over to her school bag. It looked more like a purse, honestly, with how much makeup and accessories she had stashed away inside. Seriously, what did you need an extra pair of heels for?

Pollen shook off the thought and grabbed the binder Chloe used for class, as well as her homework folder. Brining both items back to the table, she flipped the folder open. She pulled out the first sheet of homework she saw- something math related- and waved a paw at it.

Chloe gave her a dumbfounded look. “You want me to do that? Sabrina normally does.”

Pollen raised an eyebrow.

“Ugh, fine, I get it.” Chloe grumbled. “What does doing my own work have to do with being self-sufficient anyway?”

“When was the last time you did your own school work.”

“Ughhhh!”

Letting out a little giggle, Pollen decided to make a compromise, “For every question you get correct, I’ll let you ask a question about the Bee miraculous and its powers. However!” Pollen held a paw up before Chloe could get too excited, “For each you get wrong, you have to listen to some history and background on the miraculous.”

“Ooo-kay? How is that a loss for me? I still get to know what I want to know,” Chloe replied.

If only the poor girl knew.

Pollen beamed. “I’m glad you asked! You know how much you love our ‘Bee Nice’ Sessions?”

Chloe groaned.

“Anything I tell you will come along with lessons. I will tell you tales that are important for a number of reasons. And you have to sit through all of them!”

Chloe’s eye twitched. That sounded excruciating. Buuuut, she did want to know more about what powers the Bee miraculous could give her. It was just a simple math worksheet. Surely, it couldn’t be that hard. So Chloe took out a blank sheet of paper and began working.

She was wrong. So, so wrong. Chloe was by no means a bad student. She got solid B’s and pleased her daddy enough with her grades to get by. Did she need to have a study session with Sabrina before each test or quiz to get the contents down? Yes.

But that was all pish-posh. She figured if she could pick up enough for a test or quiz a day before it, she could do homework with no problem. Apparently, she hadn’t been giving Sabrina enough credit. That girl made it so much easier than this.

It didn’t help that her notes were a total disaster. Half-finished sentences, unclear instructions, and a clear lack of interest in each page. For a moment Chloe cursed her own apathy. She wanted to know more, damnit!

By the time she finished she felt exhausted. Pollen, ever chipper, hummed as she looked through each question. She procured a pen and started making marks. That was a lot of red. Oh GOD, there was so much red.

Pollen tapped the pen to her chin in thought. Giving a nod, she wrote a score at the top of her sheet.

6/15.

That was just under half! And that meant she would have failed had it been a test. Chloe resisted the urge to hit her head on the table. She could not afford to be forced into tutoring. Again.

Despite Chloe’s despair, Pollen was excited. This was better than she was expecting! Sure, she had been hoping for closer to a 75% or 80%, but Chloe at least had the idea down.

Plus this meant she could drill some more lessons into her charge.

Rubbing her paws together, she addressed Chloe. “Alright. Since it is almost an even split, let’s go back and forth with questions and history. I’ll start with a history lesson first, since you missed more than you got correct. But since I’m feeling nice, I’ll give you a choice here: Would you rather hear some history about my previous holders first, or about all the miraculous as a whole?”

“Your past wielders, of course! I need to know who would be so lucky to use the same miraculous as moi.” Chloe flipped her hair back to accentuate her point.

Pollen huffed. Nonetheless, she thought back to her past holders, humming all the while. Who would be the best to start with to help Chloe learn?

She smiled as someone came to mind. “Now, before we start, I should say that we aren’t always deployed to battle some great evil. Sometimes, we are let out into the world to help inspire something. For me, I either inspire Order and Control. Or, when that gets to be too much, I inspire freedom from Order and Control.”

“Wait,” Chloe interrupted. “Why would you go against your whole Order thing?”

“I thought you wanted to talk about past wielders first,” Pollen brought a paw up to her lips to hide a smile. “To get into that would mean I would have to talk about all the miraculous.”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Tell me the basics about all the miraculous first. But! You better tell me about your past users after!” Chloe conceded, pouting at the little god.

Pollen started again. “Like I said, we don’t always need a great evil to fight. At their core, each miraculous is meant to balance out their respective aspects. Tikki- Ladybug’s kwami- is the kwami of Light and Creation, for example. She is largely put out into the world to inspire new ideas and innovation.”

Chloe scrunched her nose in confusion. “Didn’t you say you also get put out to stop Order and Control? Why would you ever want to stop Light and Creation?”

“Well,” Pollen looked off to the side. “You can’t endlessly create. Tikki works on a more individual scale. She inspires Light and Creation in people as individuals. I, however, inspire Order and Subj- Control in a much larger scheme. After all, a bee’s focus is on the hive, isn’t it?”

“In any case, sometimes people burn themselves out when creating too much or spreading too much light. If you give and give and give, what is left for you? Nothing. And those left with nothing often crumble and fall apart- or worse. Tikki, when she is needed to, can either help her holder ease off themselves or help their holder teach others to let go of such demanding responsibility.”

Chloe nodded slowly. That… sort of made sense. “So it’s like when Adr- a friend of mine kept being happy and smiling even after his mother died to help others stop being sad. Because he wanted others to feel ‘lighter’” She made finger quotes, “Despite the tragedy that happened?”

“Yes, that could be a good example,” Pollen agreed. “If your friend gave away all his light and such to others, it could burn him out and leave him feeling empty and cold. Though, in this case I would lean more into the Peacock- he worked to give good emotion to others to cover their grief. But we’ll get there in a moment.”

“Plagg, Chat Noir’s kwami, is Tikki’s counterpart. He is the kwami of Dark and Destruction.” Pollen stopped as Chloe seemed to ponder that.

“If he is all about dark and destruction, wouldn’t that make him more likely to be evil?” Chloe mused.

Pollen, for her part, wasn’t bothered by the question. “If I am all about order and control, wouldn’t I be more likely to use and abuse people?”

Chloe bit her lip, but shook her head no.

“Exactly. Just because that is what we represent it does not mean we are prone to be good or evil. In the balance of all things, there IS no good and evil. Really, it just comes down to what a certain group likes or dislikes, or how a person’s morals are aligned.”

“Okay, no, Hawkmoth is totally evil. There is no doubt about that. How could taking control of others and using their emotions to turn them into monsters be seen as a good thing?” Chloe didn’t like the idea of Hawkmoth being in the ‘right’ at all. It went against everything he had done to Paris.

“Well,” Polled offered, “Does Hawkmoth see himself as evil?”

Chloe sat back in her seat. If movies were anything to go by, he probably didn’t. She sighed and motioned Pollen to continue

Pollen pushed on. “In any case, Plagg is often put into the world to ruin things. Surprising, isn’t it? But sometimes the best things are made in the ashes of destruction. Growing from losing things is important for many people. Like how your friend lost his mom- he likely felt sad and lost. But if he grew from that? He could learn to see that others will have his back and he can lean on them. Even in the hard times.”

Chloe looked away from Pollen. She was right, sort of. When Adrien’s mom died, Chloe had been there trying her best to cheer him up. Did it really work? No. But she helped him escape the house and run around the city with her, and watch stupid cartoons and shows, and sometimes, just sometimes, get him to smile.

“But losing your mom isn’t a good thing!” Chloe snapped back. “That devastated my friend and his family.”

“I know, and I’m sorry I painted it as such. Loss is a horrible thing to endure. But I wanted to make a connection to something you mentioned.” Pollen bowed her head. “Destruction is rarely a happy thing. But, a more positive example would be something more metaphorical- the destruction of insecurities, or breaking a bad relationship, or- or bashing down a wall so you can open up a room to have more space!”

Sighing, Pollen shook her head. “It is far too easy to see Dark and Destruction as a bad thing. Darkness can be used to hide when you don’t feel safe. Or it can be used to tone down how bright something is when you feel blinded. It can also be used as a complement and give things more depth.”

“Of course, Plagg has also been put out to tame destruction. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘fighting fire with fire’? It’s the idea that you fight destruction with destruction. But he can also help people see their bad habits, or the things that hurt them, and get them to reign them in and stop themselves before it’s too late.”

“Okay, sure, that makes sense. But didn’t you just describe Tikki and Plagg as opposites anyway? Light and Dark, Creation and Destruction? Why do they need to get people to go against their aspect when the other IS the opposite?” Chloe butt in.

Pollen brightened. “That’s technically later in this lesson, but I can touch on it now. You’ve likely noticed that Ladybug and Chat Noir came together as a pair, correct?” At Chloe’s nod, she continued. “That is because they are like Yin and Yang- opposites that complete each other. While other kwamis do have opposites, none quite work the same as Tikki and Plagg. They were once a single being- one that was the kwami of Balance.”

“Well,” Pollen rubbed her cheek, “They weren’t a kwami, per se. But that is too much to explain for right now. You recall how Hawkmoth’s goal is to get the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous?”

“Of course, that’s all he ever talks about when he akumatizes someone!”

“Well, that’s because when you combine the two into one you can have any wish granted.”

“What!” Chloe slammed her hands down on the coffee table, startling Pollen. “That’s horrible! I mean, the power is cool, but if Hawkmoth got his grubby hands on that wish who knows what he would wish for!”

“Exactly! But there’s a catch with that- whatever you wish for will have an equal and opposite consequence. If you wished for someone to come back to life? Someone else must die. If you want to have all the power in the world? Everyone else must become powerless. These may sound simple, but the gravity is just as dire as the wish would be grand.”

Chloe fell back. “So, if I- well, if I wished for my mom to love me..?”

“It depends,” Pollen shrugged. “Maybe everyone else around you would hate you. Maybe your father would stop loving you. Or, in a more subtle fashion, she wouldn’t love the real you, just a facsimile of you. Whoever she thinks you are. Sure, there are ways to make a wish that has a mostly positive outcome- for the one making the wish- but the consequence will always hurt someone. Even if it has to be a lot of someones.”

The two fell into silence after that declaration. It was a heavy thought. What could drive someone to want to change something so badly they would be willing to suffer or let others suffer for it? How cold hearted must you be?

The whole thing baffled Chloe. She could just ring her father and have what she wanted with no consequence. Could she imagine doing something so drastic as to ruin someone’s life to make hers better?

Instead of voicing any of this, Chloe leaned forward. “So tell me about the other miraculous…”

#chloe bourgeois #chloe bourgois redemption #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #pollen (ladybug)#pollen #pollen the kwami #Kwami of the Bee miraculous #Bee miraculous #every time i get lazier and lazier with these tags #anyway if you reblog this i would kill for you uwu

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imthepunchlord · 4 years ago

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Can you elaborate on the Guardian Nino + Turtle and Alya getting the fox?

I understand why you don't like the rest, I don't like em myself but why are those bad in your opinion?

Just curious.

I will acknowledge that these are nitpicks and they are mixture of my own frustrations. Frustration that the miraculous that are assigned to Alya and Nino do not fit them as characters, and with Fu now confirmed to have 15 more miraculous with him, people will still default to those and won’t even consider changing things up.

We will start with Alya as Nino would be a more lengthy answer. And putting this under cut as Alya got a whole lot more lenghtier than I originally thought.

Now, I can get the appeal of Alya with Fox. Visually, its one of the more clever color coding designs for a miraculous, you have her big on learning secrets and sharing them with the world, Fox could teach her the importance of secrecy, though would still match that curious nature. And Darkblade shows us that Alya cna be sneaky and use underhanded tactics. Mr Pigeon also adds to this as she was ready to do something about Chloe stealing Marinette’s design. And while not aggressive, Alya is still a very direct and driven character and Fox could help teach her some subtlety, and to put some distance between herself and things, though the Fox itself is a risk taking animal. It can be a challenge of smart vs confidence.

So there is actual appeal to Alya having Fox, particularly in symbolism and growth. But...

We got to see that the Fox’s power is Mirage, and that Mirage was one illusion and not the multiple that Volpina had initially set up. It not only downgrades the Fox miraculous, but this sets up difficulty for Alya. Especially with Kwamibuster revealing that how elaborate and complex an illusion comes out can depend on the user, and ultimately confirms that Marinette would be a far better Fox than Alya. Power wise, this really doesn’t set up Alya as a good Fox at all...

Having one illusion to use, you want to make sure its used well. So the Fox would be better matched with an elaborate complex thinker who can make complex illusions that will misdirect their audience. You also want a character who can be more background oriented, if you’re going to be an illusionist, you don’t want attention on yourself as you play your audience. A skilled illusionist like this could even trick an akuma into “accomplishing” their goal and give up the butterfly as they are satisfied.

Alya though does not meet those qualifications, not to say she couldn’t learn and grow, but if you need an immediate good Fox to help you, there are better picks out there. Marinette, Felix, Luka, and Nino all would be solid Foxes as they are elaborate thinkers, and can settle to be more background oriented.

Alya though isn’t an elaborate thinker, she’s a very direct instead, so much of her illusions wind up coming out direct and basic. They still serve their purpose and do a good enough job, but there could better matches. Only time I found myself impressed with her illusion was Miracle Queen where she was under influence... that’s not good. And while Alya herself is an imaginative character, she can rival Adrien in recklessness and can latch onto the first idea she likes whether its a good idea or not. You don’t want an illusionist who’s going to latch onto the first idea that comes to mind and consider their options more.

Now, if Fox had Volpina’s multiple illusions, this can give Alya more leeway to make mistakes and change tactics and allow a learning curve; it’d also work if Fox had other powers that could match her more, like a power of evasion, foxfire, hypnosis, transformation, ect. But its one illusion and how complex it is depends on the user and its not a good match for Alya.

And then there’s the matter with Trixx, and by extension, the issue with Lila: Alya is shown by s3 to be an easily manipulated character. If you are easily manipulated, that doesn’t set you up as a promising Fox.

We see that Trixx is friendly and diligent, but also very manipulative and easily manipulates Alya. This makes their dynamic less interesting to me, I’d rather Trixx be paired with someone who can match them more mentally.

And then Lila. Now, I myself wasn’t intrigued by the Alya vs Lila that the fandom was interested in as Volpina didn’t do anything to set them up, and you got the Truth vs Lies theme but Alya is supposed to get the Fox which is an infamous liar? It doesn’t quite match up as a rivalry, and canon proceeded to shoot that down even more as Lila easily manipulatives Alya in the accursed episode that sparked off many of salt fics and is actually still going. How can I embrace Alya as a Fox when she’s easily manipulated and accepts things at face value? I’ll also acknowledge that this is a similar issue with Nino who is easily accepting of Lila’s lies. I still think he’d be a better Fox than Alya, but Fox isn’t my top pick for him either.

And then there’s the issue with Rena Rouge.

You got her skin getting lighter and she’s now “sexier” as Rena. This does not add to the appeal of Fox Alya at all and makes me want it even less.

Over all, there are better miraculouses for her to play off her being a more direct character. And by default, all miraculous would teach the importance of secrecy.

Cat would really work as its a direct and aggressive miraculous but also requires some thought to it. Plagg can also be a fun and good counterpart to Alya, as he isn’t as invested in hero duties as her and could help her learn to calm down a little.

She’d be a good Bee, would be smart with Venom and can teach her to be smarter around akumas. Can’t say how good of a match her and canon Pollen would be, she may help Pollen grow or Pollen will end up as an enabler. Pollen just might need a big overhaul as a character though, that might be best.

She’d be a really good Turtle, its really keeps that support role of watching out for her friends and allows her to be in the front lines where she’d like to be, and can teach her some form of caution or not to be so reckless around akumas. I think of the 5, she and Wayzz could be the most interesting duo as Wayzz is quick to question his humans and can prompt Alya to start rethinking her strategies instead of going with the first idea she likes. But this isn’t a duo that would butt heads a lot as Wayzz is shown to be adaptable and will learn his users personality quickly so he can match Alya in her playful nature.

And technically should wait to see powers, but, going off symbolism and headcanons, there’s a few of the Zodiac who Alya could use.

Tiger has a lot of the similar appeals to Fox but with added aggression that could work with Alya better. It’s an animal more associated with the shadows and stealth, but it is a top predator. So if you want Alya to learn more subtlety and stealth but keep that directness, Tiger would be good. It would also keep that clever color coding, and perhaps match it more as Alya has “stripes” in her design. And the kwami we see is shown very curious and bold, similar characteristics that Alya has.

She’d work as a Dragon, its also very direct and can be aggressive, but not exactly in your face like Cat and Bee. And power wise it has options so can allow a learning curve and can allow her to be direct or more subtle. It would also match that want to help and be a hero, as in the old Zodiac lore, the Dragon didn’t make first place because she kept stopping to help people. Shown to be poised, Longg could help with self-control, though she’s shown to be a rambler so that might get on Alya’s nerves, but could prompt the kwami to be more straight to the point.

Goat can work as its a very ambitious but gentle animal. It’s also very clever, they are infamous escape artists. If you want another animal that matches in being direct, helpful, and cunning; Goat’s a good pick. The kwami is shown gentle and nice, by default they’d be a friendly pair.

Dog, which should be a mixture of the appeals of Goat and Turtle, direct and helpful, but also be ready to be a protector and have people’s back. And the kwami is shown to be very on task which will work with Alya nicely.

And lastly, Pig. While known to be aggressive (especially as a boar), in terms of Chinese Zodiac lore, this animal is actually known to be easy going, a symbol of prosperity and wealth, and in terms of Zodiac personality, is incredibly helpful. Similarly to Turtle, could teach Alya to slow down, and it has promise to be another direct support miraculous.

Now, Nino with Turtle and by extension, him being Guardian.

Now Nino with Turtle was never a match that I was ever really interested in, and there was less appeal there than Alya getting Fox. Nino’s not color coded for it, and the things Turtle can teach are things Nino didn’t need to learn or already had.

One of the earliest suggestions made for Turtle Nino was to teach maturity, as Bubbler suggest Nino likes to party. Only Nino himself, at least the very little shown, is an over all mature and responsible character.

He went up to Gabriel to request hosting a party for Adrien.

Pixelator shows him taking over Adrien’s assigned job and doing his homework at the same time.

Santa Claws he’s one of many to go look for Adrien.

Captain Hardrock, was helping prepare the boat for the band.

Not to say he’s mature all the time (no teenager is), but he doesn’t need lessons in maturity from Turtle. Turtle can also teach bravery and standing your ground which Nino doesn’t need either. He’s not the bravest of characters as he’s less inclined to face akumas, but that itself is not a bad thing, its smart to not engage with akumas. And Nino himself doesn’t have issues standing his ground as he was unafraid of Chloe in Lady Wifi nor was he nervous about changing the script in Horrificator.

Turtle could also teach caution, self-care, and being more conscious of others and helping them. Which Nino also really has down. Much like before, he does watch out for himself with akumas and largely aware of the danger they pose; and he is an already helpful and supportive character, readily having Adrien and Alya’s back.

Another factor is that Turtle is a direct support miraculous. It needs a user who is ready to be on the front lines and Nino is not that sort of character. He’d be better fit for background support as that’s where he would prefer to be and his strengths can lie better there, especially with his want to be a director who is a more background leader than having the core attention.

And looking back at Anansi, there’s nothing there to solidify Turtle Nino, cause ultimately, Carapace was pointless. You can entirely cut out Carapace and very little would change. He doesn’t help fight Anansi but was there to root LB in the boxing match. Yeah, Shelter cut the web but, why couldn’t Chat just turn his hand and Cataclysm the web? This was supposed to be an ep to give Nino a “manly boost” but as a miraculous hero he did ultimately nothing and didn’t even need to be there.

Canon really failed in making me want Turtle Nino at all. Only saving grace is that its for temporary use and not permanent.

And as for Guardian Nino, this was playing off the headcanon that Turtle = Guardian, simply because Fu as a Guardian had Turtle which was a headcanon I never latched onto and seemed weird to me that this one miraculous was always assigned to a Guardian. But playing off this headcanon and Turtle Nino being popular, Nino got guardianship.

Which to me was a weird thing to latch onto as, canon wise, there was nothing between Nino and Fu as characters, and Nino himself is incredibly removed from akumas and miraculous. If a best friend HAD to be a Guardian and not Marinette or Adrien, Alya actually would’ve made sense. Her whole thing is learning identities, but also learning the importance of secrecy. And you could play off her being involved but not in the forefront of things, not having full focus and attention, and you do see Fu in the background when Alya is in focus.

But over all, I was more for Guardian Marinette as she was the most involved in the miraculous work and duties, did her job well, and was involved with other people and knew their strengths and weaknesses, could see potential and know they’re reliable. I am glad canon went for Guardian Marinette, though I wish canon had her passing the earrings onto someone else as she doesn’t need two vital roles to shoulder nor does the Ladybug miraculous teach her anything new anymore and Tikki is not a good kwami for her either.

But Nino as Guardian just because its a popular idea of him getting Turtle, just doesn’t click with me and feels random, both in miraculous assignment and in role.

And much like Alya, there are better fitting miraculous for Nino.

Canon wise, plus being color coded for it, Peafowl would be good. It’s meant to be background support and not in the heat of things, so that matches Nino’s comfort level. This is a miraculous that can also help Nino learn needed observation skills, as that’s one of his biggest issues as a character. Any feelings of distraught can go over Nino’s head, not just in the case of Horrificator, but Nino is also oblivious to Adrien’s discomfort around Chloe and Lila, and has offered to wingman for both once (though Chloe he was an akuma). So a miraculous tied to emotions can help Nino become more conscious of others’ feelings. And giving him beings to command and oversee, this can give him practice in directing as he’ll need to learn to direct his creations. Duusu and Nino would probably get along well, and maybe spice up his life a little as she’s affectionate and expressive.

By extension and for similar reasons, Butterfly also works very well. This is more designed than canon Peafowl to be on the front lines, but it isn’t required. And can still help Nino learn to be more consciously aware of others and still give him practice in directing as he’s then working with actual people then beings of his own creation. Nooroo and Nino would also be a very sweet pair, though a lot calmer and a tad boring.

Nino would be a good Fox. Party Crasher shows he’s an elaborate thinker, and again, this can work in his want to be a director as he can learn how to put on a show and sway his audience. Fox can also help Nino catch the smaller details that he can wind up overlooking. And its a miraculous not set to be on the front lines and still works in his favor. Only issue is a similar one to Trixx and Alya, I do see Trixx easily manipulating Nino which doesn’t make them an exactly appealing pair.

Zodiac wise, playing off headcanons and symbolism.

Nino would be a good Mouse, as an elaborate thinker, this miraculous is up his alley as it’s about literal mirco management. And can still teach him observation skills as he has to be aware of everything while small. The little bit we’re getting of the kwami is that she appears quite the mischief maker, so she can spice up Nino’s life and we could get a funny dynamic to see.

Ignoring canon’s take and working more off the Moon Rabbit, Nino would be a solid Rabbit, especially as a healer and support, and still teach him to be more aware of his surroundings and be more active in helping people.

He could be a good Dragon, as it doesn’t appear to need to be too directly involved, and like (Moon) Rabbit, could teach him to be more actively involved in helping others. I can also see him being more patient with Longg than Alya.

He’d be a solid Snake as an elaborate thinker, and this can give him the time he needs to think and decide on a plan. And still backs him catching details and encourage him in observing people and his surroundings. I see him and Sass getting along.

Honorable mentions that can apply but I either don’t see them teaching Nino much or could end up being too direct than he prefer: Ox, Tiger, Horse, Goat, Dog, Pig.

Soooo those are my nitpicky issues with Nino and Alya and their respective miraculous, plus the idea of Guardian Nino. But these are my nitpicks and issues, if anyone likes these miraculous assignments and the idea of Guardian Nino, cool. Its just one of many popular fanon ideas and tropes that just isn’t for me and I’d rather something else, especially in terms of miraculous assignment.

#ask Punchie #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #kwami swap

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pl-panda · 4 years ago

Text

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 4

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 4

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The next day, Marinette woke up in her bed, still dressed. By the time her father brought her into her room, she was already asleep. The emotions finally caught up with her somewhere along the way. Remembering the end of the evening, her eyes immediately latched onto her finger, but the ring was not there. A mere second before a panic attack, she looked at the bedside table, where both the box and the ring rested. She let out a breath. She didn’t lose it.

“Morning cupcake,” a voice startled her. “Are you okay?” Her father was looking through the repealed doors.

“Yeah… Did yesterday really happen?”

“We are still at Wayne Manor and I seem to remember to have put the ring on the night table.”

“I can’t believe he actually proposed!” Marinette jumped off the bed and started to pace around with a dreamy look on her face. “I mean I know we are married, but it was still so romantic! And in front of so many people! Oh, Papa! I’m so happy!” She fell back onto her bed.

“I’m glad you’re happy, cupcake. Remember that your Maman and I will always be here for you.” His smile took a sadder shade. “I know you’re almost a grown-up with a job and all, but to us you will always be the same little girl that I used to fit in the palm of my hand.”

“Don’t worry Papa. I won’t forget you and Maman.”

“Good. Now let’s go open the presents! Race you!” He ran out of her room and toward the big tree in the hall. Mari giggled at her father’s antics before following him; the ring shining on her finger.

In the back, Tikki floated with a big smile on her face. Her chosen finally had a chance for some happiness. If only that ruddy alley cat did not run away with the miraculous. She could still feel Nooroo and Duusu active. She could wait one more day before telling Marinette though. The girl deserved a peaceful Christmas.

---------

By the time Marinette arrived by the tree, most of the people were already gathered. Dick was seated in a large armchair next to a pile of gifts. He was dressed in a full Santa Claus outfit, complete with a fake beard. The only reason she recognized him was because of his voice.

“Now that everyone’s here, who wants…” He started, but someone interrupted.

“Before that, I need to apologize.” Johnathan Kent turned toward Marinette. “Yesterday, after you left, I made some unsavory accusations about you, for which I want to deeply apologize.” Just for a second, his eyes jumped toward Sabine. The girl noted that her mother was glaring at the older man. “I’m a simple man and this… secret world you all live in is strange for me. Please, accept my sincere apology.”

“Oh… No problem Mr. Kent. To be honest I’m still getting used to it all myself.” She smiled at him. Marinette was not that oblivious not to guess what kind of accusations the older man had made.

“With that out of the way, I think we can get started. Maybe let’s begin with the youngest?” Dick said, trying to imitate how the real Santa Claus would sound. Marinette would admit that he was close.

“Me! Me!” Mar’i started floating in the air until Jon pulled her gently to the ground. He really got into the ‘older brother’ role.

“Yes, you, sweetheart.”

Mar’i received several gifts from the pile. Marinette was surprised to see one from her family. Inside were several baked goods from their bakery. She didn’t remember her parents packing any, but maybe they made them here.

“Me next!” Jon was giddy. His pile of gifts was slightly smaller, but there was a box of sweets there too.

After that, it was Marinette’s turn. She received probably even more than Mar’i. There were also gifts from her Nona, grandfather, uncle Wang, one without a name tag that she was pretty sure came from aunt Sandra, a giant box from Chloe, and a small one that she had no idea who sent her. It was wrapped with a paper with black cats that would look better somewhere around Halloween, but she was too distracted to question it. Damian was busy arguing with Jon about whether he would get the Kryptonite knuckle dusters or not.

She started with the largest box that Chloé sent her. Inside, there was a giant chest filled to the brim with detective novels and a letter that she chose to read when she was alone. Next was the gift from her uncle, which turned out to be an intricately decorated stone bowl for mixing ingredients.

Her grandfather got her a beautiful rolling pin made half from cherry wood and half from solidified resin. The resin was in dark green color that reminded her of Damian’s eyes. But Roland had no idea about that, did he…?

Many gifts were some nice fabrics, a gift card to Gabriel, which she was tempted to burn as soon as she got it, but out of politeness just put it back into the box for now. Finally, the gift from aunt Sandra contained a set of beautiful daggers, a Katana, and a hairpin that had a space to pour poison inside.

Her parents gave her a new rope dart, this time with a sharp end that she could use in combat. The line it was attached to was made from titanium-carbon alloy that would be able to withstand point-pressure of at least two tonnes. The weapon itself was practical instead of good-looking. The blade was thick, looking a bit like a diamond. The edges were sharp and the tip very pointy. The grip of the weapon was wrapped in a red cord for a more comfortable grip. Mari thanked them both before pocketing the weapon into her bag for now. She would probably fashion a better place for it.

Finally, only one box remained. The mysterious cats. Mari was about to open it when Jon noted it and leaped at her. The bow came undone the moment he covered the small box with his body. Everyone waited, watching carefully what was going on.

Nothing happened.

“Tt. Kent? Mind explaining to us why you decided to smash my Angel’s gift?” Damian glared at him.

“Um… I might have accidentally scanned it. You don’t want to see what’s inside. I definitely don’t want to see what’s inside ever again,” he shuddered.

“Show me,” Sabine demanded. She picked up the squashed box and opened the top before closing it. A small lighter made its way into her hand and before anyone knew better, it was aflame. Seeing people staring at her, she smiled. “Nothing to worry about. It was a terrible prank.” She wrapped the now-charred remains and some vaguely straight shape into the torn paper.

“What was this Maman?”

“A very distasteful prank.”

Marinette looked at the shape in her mother’s hand and her blood suddenly ran cold. It was shaped like a knife. The knife.

“No… He knows?! He can’t know!” She panicked, but Damian quickly pulled her closer to him, immediately soothing her some.

“No, Sweetie. That bastard thought he would appease you by offering a painting of a stabbed Ladybug.” Sabine’s expression was heralding God’s wrath.

Jason growled. “He is sick.”

Next to him, Tim muttered so that only Stephanie could hear him. “You gave B. a crowbar on your first Christmas back…” Superman heard it too, judging from his reaction.

“So what now?”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say we won’t be coming back beyond ‘appearing’ at the airport when your class is scheduled to leave. I still can’t believe how incompetent your teacher must be to force you to travel with them.”

“I know it might sound stupid, but I think you will be safest in Gotham City.” Lois offered.

Mari nodded sharply before cuddling into Damian. “Don’t worry, Angel. I will protect you.” He reassured her while hugging her close to his heart.

“I can protect myself.” She huffed but didn’t reject his hug.

“That I don’t doubt.”

“There is a good chance he won’t be able to reach you in Gotham anyway. He is just one kid, which will make crossing the border much harder for him.” Stephanie pointed.

“He has his daddy’s money. That will probably be enough.”

“Let’s hope not. I will send the warning to the border control that he might be trying to enter the country, but that’s the best I can do.”

“Meanwhile I will go check if my guns are working…” Jason tried to leave, only for Tim to grab the back of his jacket and pull him back into place.

“There is no point worrying for now. Let’s just enjoy Christmas.” Sabine nodded for everyone to return to gifts. When no one was looking at her, she pulled Jon to the side and placed the knife paper on the stone floor. They didn’t speak, not to start another drama, but the boy understood. A short heat-vision later the knife was no more than a piece of smoking paper and molten steel.

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

A blonde boy walked toward the terminal. He was dressed in a light gray long-sleeved dress shirt underneath a dark gray vest. He also sported a black necktie, dark gray dress pants, and black dress shoes. His hair was combed back, adding to the impeccable look. The green eyes swept over the guards as they observed him closely. He presented the passport.

He noted that it took them longer than it should. His eyes fell on the wanted poster next to the guards.

“I’m not my idiotic cousin if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Ah… Um…” The guard that was speaking to him was clearly confused.

“Really? Ugh! That idiot decided to play supervillain and suddenly I have to suffer for it! I am not Adrien Agreste.” He ruffled through his bag, not caring that several guards almost drew their weapons. He finally pulled out a magazine with him and Adrien standing side by side, modeling for Gabriel. When side by side, the difference in their styles was even more pronounced.

“Apologies, mister. You must understand thought…” The man started to back-track.

“Yeah yeah. Spare the prostrating.” He dismissed the guard and walked past the checkpoint. Once he was out of the hearing range, he grinned. “It’s not you that I want to see on the floor…” He whispered omniously.

-----------

Marinette and Sabine arrived through a portal five minutes from the airport, with ten minutes to spare before class was scheduled to meet. The two did not carry any luggage so they would get past the customs much faster. An upside to having all your things brought through a magical portal the day before.

The airport was buzzing with activity. Marinette and her mother quickly got past the checkpoint and met with Chloé, who awaited them eagerly.

“Dupain-Cheng! How was Christmas with the Waynes?” She asked in a hushed voice, so the class didn’t hear her.

“Well…” Mari grinned before showing the blonde her ring.

“What? Now that’s what I call a good Christmas gift.”

“How did you like the belt?” Marinette asked. In response, Chloé showed her that she was already wearing it. It was white with some golden glitter around the elegant buckle. There was a barely visible MDC logo etched on the buckle. The designer worked on it for some time before repurposing it as a Christmas gift. She had to cut on the glitter decorations, but in the end, the more minimalistic design appealed to Chloé.

Sabine watched the two girls talk. A year ago, the woman wouldn’t believe her eyes if Marinette and Chloé acted this friendly. Now though, they were cute.

“Did you get my gift?” The blonde asked impatiently.

“Um… Yes. The books are great.”

“What was under the books!” The girl whispered, hoping to avoid Sabine’s watchful eye and ear.

“What?” Marinette looked surprised and Chloé had to resist the urge to facepalm.

“Honestly Dupain-Cheng! You’re ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!”

And then the mood was broken when the rest of the class found them.

“Good morning Marinette.” Madame Bustier greeted the girl. “Sabine.”

The older woman did not return the greeting. “It’s Madame Cheng. We are here in the role of chaperones.” She almost seethes. “Let’s keep at least the illusion of professionalism.”

“Um… right. Moving on kids!” The slightly embarrassed teacher declared.

“She is just as bad as Maribrat,” Alya muttered to Lila when she thought Sabine couldn’t hear her. The glare she received in response made it clear she made a mistake in her judgment.

After they got to the plane, people started to whisper when Chloé and Marinette didn’t join them in the economy class where they had their tickets. Instead, the two left for the first class.

“Why aren’t they joining us!?”

“Because Chloé’s father paid for hers and I can afford mine.” Marinette normally would be against such blatant flaunting of wealth, but she couldn’t stop herself from rubbing it a bit into them that she earned the luxury.

“She probably…” Kim suddenly lost his ability to speak when he was met eye-to-eye with Sabine Cheng.

“Think carefully about what you want to say next.”

He could almost see the flames of hell burning brightly behind her. “Um… she probably earned it?”

“Good boy.”

“While I agree that Marinette earned it,” Caline started speaking and Sabine, Chloé, and the girl in question all had to resist the urge to groan, sensing there was more to that sentence. “I think it would be preferable if the girls joined the class for the duration of the flight. It would serve to strengthen the bonds between kids.”

“And how exactly do you plan on fitting them when all the places in this place are bought out. Not to mention the price difference. Or maybe you thought money was not a problem?” Sabine asked, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

Before Caline could answer, Lila decided to open her mouth. “Maybe Madame Bustier and you, madame could switch places with them. We know how hard our teacher worked and a bit of relaxation and comfort would do her good. You too could probably relax a bit from all the hard work in that Bakery.”

Immediately after that, everyone started to agree and try to convince the chaperones to leave them alone. Sabine was about to protest when Caline spoke up. “Well, I think it would be acceptable, provided the girls agree.” She sent both a glare.

Sabine’s blood boiled. She wasn’t sure if any normal girl would actually have the strength to stand up to a teacher in that position. Only the fact that Marinette looked completely unbothered stopped her from reacting.

“Of course they won’t agree! They are too selfish!” Alya shouted.

Some of the people on the plane started to stare at the group, with many gazes falling on Marinette and Chloé.

The blonde scoffed, but her best friend grinned. “Sure.” She pulled her ticket and handed her to the teacher. “But we’re blocking the flight, so let’s move.”

Chloé handed hers to Sabine, smiling politely at the woman. “Marinette suspected this would end like that.” She whispered before taking a seat next to Dupain-Cheng. Both girls pulled out old-fashioned dictaphones and started recording what was going on with the class. Then Chloé gave Mari one of her detective novels and they started reading.

Sabine shook her head. Her little girl had a plan and she would trust her. And after seeing Lila in action, she now had some idea how that liar worked. The way she manipulated people’s opinion reminded her in some ways of the assassin training she underwent.

-----

The plane was already half-way to Gotham. Sabine did her best to ignore Caliné’s rambling about Marinette, switching between praising her and making her into the heart of all the problems with the class. If she didn’t know better, Sabine would think that the teacher had some sort of mental disorder. Beyond simple stupidity that is.

Out of the blue, Caliné stopped rambling and Sabine saw her asleep, snoring lightly.

“A strong sedative. It should give us at least an hour of peace.” A calm voice spoke from behind her.

“Sandra.” Sabine greeted her sister politely, but without the usual cheerfulness. “Clever of you to choose here of all places to meet me. Don’t think that it will let you escape my wrath. You left that girl on the mercy of a monster.”

“Cassandra was… I did regret what I did, but I couldn’t risk trying to reclaim her. Not until I was sure she could defend herself.” Sandra said, allowing emotions to enter her voice. Sabine could tell she was genuinely saddened by the situation.

“You could’ve brought her to me. I would raise her along Marinette without a second thought. And you know that nobody would dare to come after me.” The older turned in her seat to glare at her sister. Two men at her side were both also sleeping, each with a small wound on their neck. They had complete privacy.

“I… I’m sorry. By the time I managed to find her again, I… I was ashamed. I admit that it pained me to see what Cain did to her. But I couldn’t…”

“We will talk about it when I can scream at you properly.” Sabine cut her off. “For now I want to know what is so important you decided to show up personally, risking my wrath.”

“The boy has allies.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know, but they are influential enough to shield him from many of my contacts.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you tried. As opposed to with your daughter.”

“I deserve it…” Sandra lowered her head.

“Yes, you do.” Sabine huffed.

“If I find the kid…”

“He sent Mari the knife he stabbed Ladybug with. I have no idea how he got his sticky hands on it…”

“You still have the bag, right?”

“Already waiting for me in Gotham.”

“I will try digging some more, but I’m getting blocked at each turn.”

“Meanwhile I will keep both our girls safe.”

“I got the picture of Talia by the way.” Lady Shiva allowed a smile to ghost her face. “I carry it framed and put it by my bed. She got a few copies too.”

“Good. That might remind her not to trifle with us.” The sisters shared a laugh, but Sabine was still angry and it showed. She would give her sister a piece of her mind when the time came.

-----------

A figure stood cloaked in shadows. The small screen showed a series of images.

“Poison Ivy; Bane; Penguin; Riddler; Mr. Freeze; Two-Face; Scarecrow; Clayface; Falcone; Harley Quinn; Killer Croc; Joker…”

“The previous Hawkmoth was a fool.” Another figure spoke from the shadows. Their voice was neither feminine nor masculine. “He stuck to a moral high ground, giving powers to untrained kids. Then again, he was fighting kids.”

A small, butterfly-like creature floated in the air. “But that is precisely what the Butterfly Miraculous is supposed to do! Its powers will work best with the common people.”

“Interesting.” The main figure grinned. “So my father wasn’t such a fool after all.” He laughed when another image appeared on the screen. “And I see that my trap is already working.”

Duusuu had to hide from fear. This was not the kind boy they knew. What could’ve happened to Chat Noir, the great kind Chat Noir that made him into… this.

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Masterlist // Next

#batman #arranged marriage AU #maribat #maridami #marinette dupain cheng #maribat au #Damian Wayne #Damian al Ghul #damienette #lady shiva #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous lb #ladybug

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theyreonlynoodlesmike · 4 years ago

Note

Aye you sick of me yet? Lol. How about the boys going to the boardwalk one night to find a traveling circus/freak show is in town. I’m talkin sword swallowing and fire breathing type ish. Our lovely lady s/o is an acrobat who performs with an aerial hoop (if you need reference, my personal fav performance is Chloe Gardiol doing cry me a river). And is she actually human? Who knows? Is she alluring as bait? Maybe.

Not at all!! Sorry it took so long to get to this!! I totally love this ask, and I’m definitely turning this into a fic!! I’m also thinking Poly!Lost Boys for this one!! I hope you enjoy!!

Talk About Freak Show (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1865

The boys probably should’ve known a circus was coming into town, but it caught the four of them by surprise. They’d been to their fair share over the years, but it was still a pleasant sight. It was something different. Something to keep them entertained besides the normal crowds that walked up and down the boardwalks. There were clowns, jugglers, and even fire breathers littering the boardwalk and impressing the locals.

“Gnarly!” Paul shouted as he watched someone swallow a sword. Marko and Paul were pushing eachother, and Dwayne had to grab both of them by the back of their coats before one of them decided to give it a try. David rolled his eyes and threatened,

“If the two of you don’t shut up, I’ll shove a sword somewhere else.” He said, and Paul wiggled his fingers at him and said,

“Ooh.” In a mocking tone, while Marko laughed and encouraged him to lighten up. It was a circus! They were supposed to be having a good time! And they were. David just didn’t like how many of the carnies kept coming up to them. Especially when a mime decided to make fun of David for wearing a “long face”. Marko and Paul had nearly lost their minds laughing when the mime copied David, and David had considered strangling the poor guy right then and there. He mimicked him smoking a cigarette, and, after only being around him for a minute, he was actually doing a pretty good impression. This only made him more angry. Luckily, something else had caught their attention.

There was a big top set up in the sand, and the four of them left their bikes near the back to check it out. A performance was just about to start, and they weren’t strangers to sneaking into places like this. They took some empty seats, and ducked in the crowd so no one would see them. Dwayne had to tell Paul to shut up, as he was sure the blondes giggling would give it away that they weren’t supposed to be there.

They watched a ring leader announce the name of the next performer, and the boys watched in wonder as you stepped out and a hoop was slowly dropped down from above. You wore a red and white shimmery leotard, one that exposed your legs, arms, and clung to your body. You had a rose in her hair, and they couldn’t tell how long it was by how it was tied back. Still, you were beautiful. Paul let out a wolf whistle, and Marko laughed and punched him in the shoulder.

They stayed for your entire performance, even though they’d only meant to stay for a few minutes. You were entrancing. They’d seen others perform aerial arts before, but there was just something about you that they couldn’t deny was different. The way that you hung in the air, moved your body, and seemed to have complete control over the audience, even them, was unmistakably mesmerizing. Marko even leaned over to whisper to David, asking if he thought that you were human. David didn’t say a word for a moment. His eyes watched you, and he whispered,

“I’m not sure.” It was a weird thing to admit, but it was the truth. There were too many heartbeats, too many scents. He couldn’t place which one was yours. Their voices were barely a whisper, and he was sure no one would’ve been able to hear him over the music. Marko then added,

“She’d make good bait.” And David turned to look at his angel faced brother. Marko was grinning, a grin that David had become far too familiar with over the years. It was like he had read his mind. He gave him a small smirk, and a silent nod. That you would.

When you finished your performance, Paul stood up to give you a standing ovation. He was quickly yanked down by the brunette, but he still hooted and hollered for you. They caught your laugh, but you were quickly bowing and retreating back behind the curtain. Marko whispered the beginning of their plan to the other two, and Paul was practically bouncing with excitement. They left the big top, sneaking out where they came, and going to grab their bikes. They were going to find you, get you away from the crowds, maybe have some fun and-

They paused when they saw a small crowd near their bikes. Apparently, they’d parked them right where the carnies took their breaks. The mime from before was smoking a cigarette, and they could hear what he was saying over the dull roar of the crowd.

“-Totally hot, but the one with the mullet was kind of a dick. I hate stopping in these shitty towns. God, why couldn’t- Shit! That’s them.” He noticed them just when they were only a few feet away. He was talking to you, exactly who’d they’d been looking for, and you turned to follow his eyes. You were wearing a light brown fur overcoat, one that went down to your mid-thigh, and it was obviously to keep the nights chill off of your shoulders. Your hair hung loosely over your shoulders, and it wasn’t until you turned that they realized it was you, the acrobat, from before. They could see the sparkly red and white leotard under your coat, and now they knew why you were wearing something so heavy. You furrowed your brows when they continued to walk closer.

“Can I help you boys?” You asked. This was circus territory. Hot or not, tourists and locals weren’t allowed to be back here. The platinum blonde, the one your friend had called a dick, smiled at you. He had ocean blue eyes, one’s sharp enough to pierce. He was dressed in all black, with an overcoat and gloves. You stared right back, and a shiver threatened to go down your spine. He was attractive, but your survival instinct from being on the road for so long practically screamed that he was dangerous. He gave you the creeps. He motioned to the bikes right besides you and your friends.

“We were just about to ask you the same thing.” He said. His voice was smooth like velvet, and you almost felt a wave of something. You couldn’t describe it except for suggestion, maybe? It washed over you like a wave, and it took all of your hesitance with it. “I’m David.” He said as he plucked a cigarette from behind his ear, and you found yourself giving up your name without thinking about it. Not your stage name. Your real one. Your friend, the mime, gave you a startled look. It was an unspoken rule not to share your real name. It broke the illusion. The barrier between actor and audience.

You’d been standing right in front of one of the middle bikes, a bike with a yellow back wheel and a raccoons tail hanging from one of the handles. The presumed owner, a curly-haired blonde with big, doe brown eyes slid by you into the space between the bike right next to his. He made sure to brush by you as you past, holding you steady so he didn’t knock you over. He didn’t excuse himself, and he grinned when you had to grip onto his jacket. He leaned in and whispered, “I’m Marko.” With a wide grin on his face. He climbed onto the bike, and revved the engine to life.

Then, the tallest of the blondes, swaggered his way over to you. He was at the end of the line and he didn’t have to walk nearly as close, but he did anyways. He brushed a hand over the fur of your coat, lifting his brows as he said, “Nice coat. I’m Paul.” With a slight californian accent. He looked more like a glam-rocker than a surfer, but you could smell the weed on him as he walked backwards for a few steps. He had a row of almost too perfect teeth, and a smile that was charming and lazy. And then he was taking a seat on a bike with a red back wheel.

The brunette didn’t try to come close. His bike was the other middle one, the one to your left, but he commanded your attention anyways. His eyes were dark and his skin was tanned. You didn’t let yourself embarrass yourself by looking down at his chest, and he gave you the smallest of smirks. He nodded his head at you and said, “Dwayne.” As he went to his bike. Your friend had been talking about him, and while you admitted that he was definitely hot, you wished he’d warned you that they all were. Though, you felt hairs stand on the back of your neck. Three of them were behind you, and, for some reason, you didn’t like that. But turning your back to David seemed far worse. David hadn’t made his way to his bike in the seconds that had just past, and instead asked,

“You got a light?” And you were snapped back to reality. You reached inside your coat, producing a lighter. David leaned down, the cigarette already between his teeth, and cupped your hand as you helped him light his cigarette. The leather was smooth against your skin, and you tried to pretend that your hand wasn’t shaking. He looked at you as he did, his eyes staring into yours. It made you gulp, and he smirked. He pulled back, took a drag, and blew the smoke away from you. He glanced at your friend, before he walked to his bike. It was the first one in line, and you turned to follow him with your eyes. You faced them, and David said, “Was that your last performance of the night?”

It barely registered as a question, but you shook your head. Not as an answer, but more so to clear it. The boys snickered, and Paul and Marko smiled at eachother. As if they knew something you didn’t. You were quick to say,

“No, no. That, um- I have another one later tonight.” You’d never been nervous around people before. But these boys? They made you feel like they were about to eat you alive. David took another drag, and he almost looked a little disappointed. It had to be your imagination though. Your friend tugged you to the side, out from in front of their bikes, and you let him. David watched, and he narrowed his eyes at the mime. He took another drag.

“You should find us later tonight.” David said, and the same feeling washed over you. The push. The suggestion. Before you could answer, he was flicking his unfinished cigarette to the side, and Paul was tearing through the sand. They followed one by one, but David was quick to take the lead. With them gone, it felt like a cloud had been lifted from your head. But there was one thing that remained. You would find them later that night. Somehow.

Your friend scoffed and shook his head. He had already lit another cigarette and said,

“Talk about freak show.”

#marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #dwayne the lost boys #david the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys x reader

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quixotin · 4 years ago

Text

pst. hey. hey kid, yes you.

Chapter 9 of The Wall Between Us is up on AO3 if you feel like crying over fictional teenagers who like to dress up in skintight suits to battle a magical terrorist.

Read on Tumblr below the cut.

Chapter 9 Adrien would like to say that he went back to school the Monday after Alya’s intervention because if he stayed a day longer, his father would probably just go ahead and arrange for a private tutor. However, if he was really honest, his return to school was attributed largely to his fear of Alya. He knew she was not above storming into the mansion again and dragging him all the way to his classroom, no matter his state or what he was wearing.

Nobody needed to see him in days-old comfort clothes, so he decided it was in everyone’s best interest if he just showed up.

Luckily, he severely overestimated how much of a fuzz his classmates would make upon his return. The only ones who prodded with questions were Nino and Chloe.

The sight to behold was Marinette, who had barely batted an eye when he went into the room. He felt as if somebody had punched him in the gut as he took her in. She looked sick, lost in her thoughts. Her eyes were directed at her table. She clutched the phone he had given her as Chat Noir on her hand, tucked underneath the table, knuckles white from holding it so tight.

He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and forced to calm himself even though there was nothing he wanted more than to hurry up to her and pull her in the tightest hug he could give her. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, how much of an idiot he had been for leaving her hanging, how awful he felt for making her believe he abandoned her.

Then the bell rang and had no option but to take a seat as their teacher came in. The end of the day couldn’t arrive fast enough, he couldn’t wait to call her. He had lied about his schedule so he wouldn’t be forced to go back home when he called her. He had told Natalie there would be an extended fencing practice but instead he’d head somewhere in the outskirts of the city where he’d have enough privacy.

He found a tower that seemed tall enough that no one would spot him hanging around at the top. He transformed and pulled the burner phone from his backpack, then with shaky hands dialed her number. He held his breath as the line rang.

It couldn’t have been five seconds before someone answered at the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

It was her, she sounded worried. “Is it you?… Hello?”

“Yeah,” he said, finding it hard to speak with the painful knot that strangled his vocal cords.

Ladybug let out a gasp. “Are you okay?”

“Yes…Ladybug, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I–”

“Stop,” she said. “Whatever you’re going to say next, I want you to tell it to my face. Tonight, top of Eiffel.”

“Okay, but–”

“Tonight, Chaton… I trust you to be there,” she said, then hung up.

Chat Noir gulped. Maybe she suspected what he had wanted to do. Even though Alya had advised against it, he was still not entirely sure it wasn’t the right way to go. Things would be so much more complicated from now on, and even though there was still the risk of his father being Hawkmoth, the prospect of confirming his suspicion seemed just as dreadful as revealing his identity to Marinette.

That night, he was earlier to the rendezvous than Ladybug, which gave him a few minutes to take in the city for a while and calm his thoughts. He was caught off guard when Ladybug suddenly swung from behind him, grabbed him, and hoisted him all the way up, to the very top of the tower.

“What the—”

“The only way you’re getting off from here is with your baton,” she said, tearfully. “I won’t let you give up the ring. I– you… You can’t!”

Chat Noir looked at her for a second and then launched himself into her arms. “I’m so sorry, Ladybug,” he said. “I’m sorry I disappeared like that, I… it took me by surprise.”

Ladybug sobbed against his hair. “You… you… dumbass!”

“Takes one to spot one,” he joked softly, still hugging her tightly. He only let her go once she had calmed down a bit.

“Ladybug, I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “I never wanted to hurt you… Which is why I can’t—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she pleaded.

Chat Noir sighed heavily, sensing as his assuredness wavered. “I can’t be Chat Noir anymore, Ladybug. I don’t want to make this harder on you…”

“You aren’t!” she protested. “Chat Noir, you’re my partner!”

“Trust me, you’ll be better off without–”

“For once in your life, stop making assumptions!” she yelled, wishing she knew his name so that he could shout it. “You always do this! You never give me a chance to explain!” she cried. “Chat Noir, you won’t make things harder on me by knowing my identity.”

“You don’t get it,” he said, quietly.

“What?” she demanded. “What is it that I don’t get since you haven’t grown past hiding things from me, apparently?” At his silence, she pressed again. “What is it Chat Noir?” she cried.

“I’m in love with you!” he yelled back, if only to interrupt her accusations, summoning a heavy silence. “I love you,” he repeated softly, after what felt like an eternity. “I know who you are, Marinette.”

She gasped at the sound of her name. A part of her knew one day in the future he’d probably speak it, but it was one of those things one assumes but never really understands until they happen. The same way one knows life will happen at some point but cannot really fathom it.

“I did get over you,” he explained. “Then I fell in love with you again, with you under the mask… I know you’re with Luka and I don’t want to get in the way. But I also can’t… I–”

Ladybug didn’t know what else to do but to hug him. “You don’t have to tell me who you are,” she said softly. “I’ll keep my distance. Just… please don’t leave. You won’t get in the way, I promise. No matter what you think, you’ll never be an obstacle for me, I need you to understand that. Please, Chat.”

Chat hugged her tightly and nodded against her shoulder. “Okay.”

They stayed like that for a good while and once calm was regained, they descended back to the lower beams of the tower, where they usually met.

They were quiet until a question dawned on Ladybug. “Why did you show up to the hang-out with no transformation anyway?”

“It was the middle of the day,” he said. “And… there was an emergency.”

Ladybug arched an eyebrow at him.

“Um… don’t ask follow-up questions, but… I have reason to believe Hawkmoth might be Gabriel Agreste.”

Ladybug widened her eyes. “What?”

“I, uh… got a lead from someone who’s very close to the Agrestes and there’s evidence he has—or at least had the Peacock Miraculous. But knowing how he works, he probably has given it to his assistant, Natalie Sancoeur.”

“Gabriel Agreste?” she said pensively. “That can’t be, he’s been Akumatized.”

“And I’ve fooled you so that you thought my civilian self was hanging around while I was actually transformed one time, anything is possible, LB. Especially since he’s an adult. Remember what Bunnix said? Adults develop more command over the Miraculous.”

Ladybug shook her head. “But… How did you find out? Who told you?”

“I can’t tell you,” said Chat Noir. “I know, I know how it looks but… you trust me, right?”

She looked straight into his eyes and nodded.

“So please, take my word for it. I’m almost completely sure he’s Hawkmoth.”

“Okay,” she said. “Somebody ought to be checking on Adrien Agreste, then. He might be in danger if Gabriel and Natalie are Hawkmoth and Mayura.”

“I’ll take care of that, don’t worry.”

Ladybug gave him a long, thoughtful look but nothing came of it. She blinked a couple times and looked back at the city, a shaky breath escaping her lips.

“We have to make sure though,” she said. “It could be a disaster if it turned out it wasn’t him and we make a move. And even if he is, we need to figure out how to defeat him. I don’t want to let out too many Miraculous to fight Hawkmoth but at the same time I’m not sure we can defeat him just between you and me.”

“I’m working on that, too.”

Ladybug gave him a look. “Chat you’re not sneaking into his house or something like that, right? It could be very dangerous, what if he catches you? We need a plan.”

“I’m trying to get closer to Adrien Agreste,” he lied. “He might have a clue.”

“Maybe I could help,” Ladybug offered. “I know him in civilian life.”

Chat Noir bit his tongue. “It’s not necessary, Bugaboo, I also know him in civilian life. But if you’d like, be my guest. Just be careful.”

“Same to you.”

The air between them got steadily lighter as the hours passed and the nightlife of the city quieted down into a soft murmur. Ladybug’s eyelids became heavier with the flowing of the night and soon began dozing off. It only came to her attention when her head fell and found support on Chat’s shoulder. She quickly jolted and patted her cheeks to try and regain awareness.

Chat Noir chuckled. “Maybe we should head back,” he suggested.

Ladybug shook her head stubbornly.

“Why not? You’re falling asleep.”

“I’m scared you’ll leave the ring,” she admitted with a mutter.

Against his will, a powerful wave of affection for her coursed through his body which compelled him to pull her into his arms. Yet, he restrained himself and simply gave her a warm smile.

“I won’t do that, cat’s honor,” he said. Seeing as his reassurance didn’t convince her, he added, “I promise, Ladybug.”

With that, each went their own way.

Thankful that the next day would be a school holiday, Marinette planned on sleeping in and gathering her bearings. Which was why she was caught completely off guard when somebody rang her apartment’s bell sometime during the late morning the next day.

Marinette begrudgingly got out of bed to open the door and was surprised to find Luka.

Luka took her in, she was wearing pajamas and seemed she had had a long night. Her hair was a little bedraggled and there were bags under her eyes. He suspected he knew exactly why. Somebody had spotted Chat Noir and Ladybug talking at the top of the Eiffel Tower the night before. The way his stomach churned with insecurity over what could they have possibly talked about reassured him in the worst way possible, that he was about to do the right thing for both of them.

“Luka?” Marinette gasped, dread washing over her. “What– I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your texts… I was…”

He sighed. “It’s okay, Mari… Can I come in?”

Marinette simply nodded and led him to her room. Luka tried to pay no heed to how weak his legs felt as they climbed up the stairs, how his throat was tightly tied up in a painful knot.

Marinette sat on her chaise as Luka paced around nervously, trying to gather courage.

“Mari, I…”

“Stop, I know what this is about. I’m sorry I hadn’t been answering the phone, Luka. I really am. It’s just…” she looked down. “There’s been some stuff going on. I’m sorry…”

“It’s not that,” Luka said. “I figured there must be something going on if you didn’t pick up, I know you don’t mean to push me away. But that’s not why I came here.” He looked down, taking notice of his trembling hands. He sighed. “Mari, I’ve been trying so hard. But I just… I can’t take it anymore. I’m not like you.”

Marinette stared perplexed at Luka, who now stood at the center of the room looking down.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know,” he said, still not able to look at her. “You said you wouldn’t want me to tell you if I found out, but the truth is I can’t act as if nothing’s going on anymore.”

Marinette slowly caught drift of what Luka implied, feeling a sudden chill running down her spine.

“I know your secret,” he admitted, finally looking at her, who was pale as a ghost and with eyes wide open. “I didn’t mean to,” he immediately added. “It was an accident. I wanted to tell you that I knew, but I… I was so scared that you’d want to break up with me, then when Chat picked me to join you the last time I fought, I knew I had to try and tell you again. Then you said you wouldn’t want to know if I knew… But I just can’t take it anymore.”

Marinette was petrified in her seat.

“Marinette, I know you don’t mean to hurt me. But I just… I can’t take it. I tried to get used to it, but it’s just driving me mad.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you’ve been evading me because he was gone,” he said with a strained voice, trying his hardest not to cry in front of her.

“Luka, I– It’s not that…”

“Then what is it?”

“I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to explain myself without revealing my identity,” she said quietly then looked down, tears pooling in her eyes knowing that wasn’t all the truth, hating that she understood why Luka was directing the conversation to where she suspected it was headed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “He’s my partner, Luka,” she explained. “I can’t just act like everything’s okay when he gets hurt.”

Luka looked down and sighed. “That never stopped you before,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You used to tell me about your life as Ladybug,” he pointed out. “I never asked questions because I really just wanted to help you, but it wasn’t hard to figure that’s what the ‘macaron mafia’ was when I discovered you were Ladybug. And then suddenly, you stopped talking about it when we started dating.”

Marinette sighed. “I did think about telling you,” she admitted, to which Luka looked up at her hopefully.

“So why didn’t you?” Luka asked, impatient at Marinette’s silence. He looked at it from her perspective. The battle against Queen Wasp ended up revealing the identity of almost all the wielders and that meant Hawkmoth knew. They were akumatization targets.

“I’ve only ever been akumatized once,” Luka said, catching drift of her logic. “Why... why don’t you trust me?” he asked, sounding more wounded than he intended.

“I do trust you, Luka. But you never know what might happen in the future,” she explained.

“Something like breaking up?” Luka asked sadly.

The silence that met his question was worse than any injury he’d ever gotten. Luka didn’t know one could possibly be in this much pain while physically intact.

“As Ladybug there’s many things I have to sacrifice. I need to be prepared for everything. At first I thought of telling you because we were just friends and you’re good at handling your emotions way more than me or Chat, even. But a break-up... that’s enough to get anyone. I’m not saying it would happen, but...”

He clung to the silence like one clings to a lifeline before falling into an abyss. He knew what he needed to say next and yet he couldn’t bring himself to speak the words. He knew this couldn’t go on. Either way, he knew there was no way around getting hurt. Staying with her was not good for him, but leaving would break his heart.

Suddenly, he let go of his lifeline. “I think we should break up.”

“What?” Marinette said, gasping, looking up to him. “N-no! Why? I said I’m sorry.”

“Mari, I know you love him,” he said, painfully.

“I also love you. Luka, if you just give me a little time, I can just–.”

Luka walked close to her and gently took her hands in his. Then, asked a question that, though he knew was selfish, simply needed to hear the answer to, “Do you think you could love me as much as you love him?”

“I… I’m trying,” she said gently and pulled him into a hug to prove her point. “I’m trying.”

A sob finally managed to escape Luka as Marinette held him as tight as she could. “That’s the point,” he said as he snaked his arms around her, too. “I don’t want you to force yourself to feel something… something that doesn’t come naturally.”

Marinette cried.

“I… I can’t compete with him, Marinette.”

“It’s not a competition!” Marinette protested.

“I know it’s not supposed to be,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter what I do, the thought is always there, at the back of my head. I can’t help but compare myself… I’m jealous out of my mind, Marinette,” he confessed, burying his face into the nook of her neck.

“You don’t have to be,” Marinette said. “Luka, you don’t… You’re so different from him, you don’t have to be jealous of him. The way I feel about you is different.”

“I know who he is, too,” he confessed quietly. “I know I won’t be able to take it.”

Marinette pried herself off Luka’s arms, eyes wide with terror.

“It was also an accident,” he admitted, sadly. “I was hiding from an Akuma one time we had a date. You tend to pick the same places to transform,” he said.

Marinette trembled. “Luka… you… you know what will happen if Hawkmoth ever akumatizes you again?”

“I know,” he said. “I’d never put you in danger like that,” he said.

“I don’t think it’s up to you,” she said with fear in her voice

“I meant what I said when you first started confiding in me, Mari. I’ll keep your secret. You can trust me…” His voice broke again. “But… it doesn’t change how I feel. I can’t change how I feel, I can’t help wishing I was him, and getting jealous and… It’s not good or fair for you or me.”

Marinette cried softly, not finding it in herself to refute him because she knew he was right, as usual.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Me too.”

Luka didn’t hang around much longer after having said what he needed to say. He didn’t want to leave Marinette crying like that, but if he didn’t leave in that instant, he knew he wouldn’t have the will keep his word and he’d inevitably backtrack on it. He’d ask for a second chance, even though he knew much like when he was Viperion, sometimes we don’t get the things we want no matter how many times we try.

He hurried back home and immediately called his friends so that they’d come to be with him. He didn’t trust himself in the state and he meant to keep his promise: He wouldn’t be akumatized, no matter the cost.

Marinette, on her part, did call Alya but once she had already gotten a good hold of her emotions. She sent her a message in the afternoon. Unbeknownst to her, Alya had to ditch going to the movies with Nino and Adrien. When they asked why the sudden change of plans, Alya had to do some mental somersaults to come up with an excuse who was believable both for Nino and Adrien.

Nino knew it wasn’t like her parents to call her for sudden babysitting duty. Adrien knew that almost any excuse she’d come up with would be inevitably related to Marinette.

“My sister broke her nose in a boxing match,” she explained. It wasn’t an entire lie, Nora had broken her nose, just not that day. “My mom and the girls were with her and apparently it’s a whole ordeal, so I need to go and pick up the girls like, asap. Sorry guys.”

It seemed to do the trick. Half an hour later, she showed up at the Dupain-Chengs’ door with two liters of caramel ice cream and her bodyweight in chocolate.

By the look on Sabine when she opened the door, it seemed Marinette had already told her parents of the breakup. She saw herself into Marinette’s room, knocking a couple of times at the trap door before entering.

Marinette was in bed, embodying the definition of a blanket burrito as she munched on a plate of macarons with Tikki.

Alya gave her a look and only sighed, pulling her into a hug. “Oh, girl.”

Marinette sniffed. “I feel like such an asshole, Alya. He didn’t deserve this. He’s so… so… good. And I hurt him so bad, you should’ve seen his face. He didn’t deserve this…”

“I don’t think it was your fault, Mari,” Alya offered. “Nor Luka’s, for that matter. Did he say why?”

“He found out by accident,” she muttered. “He knows who we both are.”

Alya hissed in sympathy for him. “Yeah… then, that makes sense.”

“Why? Who is he?” Marinette complained. “I’m getting sick and tired of everyone keeping me in the dark about this.”

“I thought Chat didn’t want to reveal his identity,” Alya said.

“He said, ‘I don’t want to get in your way,’” Marinette imitated him, doing a stupid voice. “And–and Luka! He did the same thing! He broke up with me because he thinks I love Chat more than I love him, he said he didn’t want to force me to feel something that wasn’t there. And…I get that he might think that, but he didn’t even give me a chance to–to prove to him that I also care about him!” she cried.

“Mari,” Alya said softly. “But was he right? Luka, I mean.”

“I… I do love him, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“He was right,” Marinette said, sobbing. “I feel awful that it didn’t work out, after all he did for me. He was there for me when I most needed him. He doesn’t deserve to suffer like this, and I hate that I’m the one who hurt him,” Marinette cried.

Alya rubbed her back and sighed. “I know it hurts, girl. But you did the right thing. Like you say, Luka is a good person, he deserves to be with someone that can love him the way he needs to be loved.”

“I know,” Marinette admitted.

Alya perked up urgently as her thoughts caught up with her. “But what if he gets akumatized? Hawkmoth will know and then–”

“He said he’d try his best to keep the secret,” Marinette said. “I know, don’t look at me like that. But honestly, what can we do other than to try to get the upper hand on Hawkmoth before he gets akumatized? Chat said he has a lead on him, that it might be Gabriel Agreste. I figured if we manage to bust him first, then it wouldn’t really matter, would it?”

“Marinette, Luka literally just broke up with you,” she said desperately, grabbing her shoulders. “Do you not remember how absolutely awful Kagami’s Akuma was when Adrien broke up with her?”

“Why would that have to do anything with Luka?” Marinette asked, quirking her head to the side.

Alya mentally scolded herself. Too much information. “Nothing, it’s just, break-up Akumas are super powerful. And he literally knows your identity!”

“I know, but Luka isn’t anything like Kagami,” she said. “For starters, Kagami didn’t have friends to rely on when Adrien broke up with her and that’s why her Akuma was so powerful. Their breakup was just the final strike on layers on top of layers of negative emotions. Luka is not like that.”

Alya had to keep to herself the remark that Marinette perhaps had too much faith in him.

Although her conversation with Alya helped Marinette to earn some consolation, she still couldn’t help but feel devastated for the next couple days. It was natural, she supposed. But that didn’t change the fact that the breakup between Luka and her had suddenly made things a little awkward with Juleka and had unmistakably altered the dynamic of their friend group. The fact that Luka waited at the sidewalk for his sister at the end of the school day, instead of by the steps as he used to do before. The fact that he practically had to look the other way to pretend Marinette was not there.

She knew why he did it, and that it was selfish to want to talk to him. It didn’t change the fact that she desperately wished she could do something to make him feel better.

She sighed, why did everything have to be so complicated with these boys all the time? Adrien, Luka, Chat Noir. In spite of her heartache, she also couldn’t help but be a little fed-up with the whole drama that had plagued her life for the good part of two years.

As days kept on rolling, she fell back into the habit of taking anonymous metro rides and going on walks in parts of the city where she was certain she wouldn’t come across any of her acquaintances. A moment of anonymity in her civilian persona was always a good way to sort her thoughts out. Apparently, one of Paris’ resident celebrities had the same idea, she realized one of such afternoons as she found the unlikely picture of Adrien hanging out in some indistinct part of the city.

He hadn’t noticed Marinette saw him and sat on an unassuming bench in a random city promenade. His usual entourage was decidedly missing, and for some reason he had concluded that donning a ridiculously mismatching outfit a neon green cap would somehow conceal him. Marinette had to laugh. That boy wouldn’t be able to hide his identity for the life of him.

“You stick out like a sore thumb, in case you were wondering,” she teased, deciding to approach him for a quick hello. She found it refreshingly easier to talk to him now that the mess of emotions that always tied up her tongue were missing.

Adrien was effectively startled. “Marinette?”

At the same time, both asked, “What are you doing here?”

Laughing, Adrien said, “Jinx, you owe me a soda.”

“You didn’t answer my question, I owe you nothing.”

“Um… I’m sort of sneaking out,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Ah. Heard you’ve been doing that a lot, lately.”

Adrien shrugged, blushing slightly. “Teenage rebellion? What about you?”

“Just, uh, taking a walk. Clearing my head and so on.” She nodded. “Yep.”

A bit of an uncomfortable silence set between the two, and so Marinette hurried to excuse herself. “Well, I better get going. By the way, you might want to use a cap that’s not the color of a traffic sign if you want to pass unnoticed,” she joked, but Adrien distinguished the inklings of sadness in her voice. He was too used to putting up a happy face when he felt anything but to not notice Marinette was doing the same. The smile didn’t reach her eyes.

His stomach churned, he hated to see her looking so down. He suspected it had something to do with Luka, probably a fight. He found himself fighting the urge to ask. He knew he shouldn’t meddle, after all, that’s the reason why he didn’t want to reveal himself. But if there was anything he could do to make her feel better, he’d give it his best shot, even if it was just as Adrien.

After a few seconds of deliberation, he stopped her. “Hey, I know this is out of nowhere and I don’t mean to be awkward but, uh, would you like to just… hang out a bit? We could find something to do. I mean, unless you’re busy…”

Marinette pondered on it for a second, taken a bit aback by the proposition. “Sure, why not. What do you have in mind?”

Adrien stood up and dusted off his pants. “Are you up for a little breaking and entering?”

“Erm. No?”

He laughed. “It’s not as illegal as it sounds, I promise.”

Adrien and Marinette headed to the first convenience shop they could find to buy as many snacks as they could fit in Marinette’s backpack. They were essential to his plan, Adrien assured as he insisted on paying the whole loot himself.

Thanks to his neon cap, they almost busted his cover but after a few “Oh really? You think I look like Adrien Agreste? heh. I get that a lot,” they managed to buy their goods. Once packed, Adrien started testing the front doors of different apartment buildings to find one which wouldn’t be locked.

“Success,” he said, as they found one after a few tries.

“What are you doing?” Marinette asked, completely confused as she followed him through the stairs all the way to the top floor, where he struggled with the door to the roof. He pulled a card from his wallet and clicked it open.

Marinette was absolutely dumbfounded.

“You are an actual criminal,” she said, laughing breathily.

“After you,” he said, and then grabbed an indistinct bottle which lay on the rooftop to prevent the door from closing.

They sat down at the edge of the rooftop and emptied Marinette’s backpack, each grabbing the drink of their choice. As Adrien deliberated which pack of gummies–since gummies were his favorite–to open first, Marinette tried to push away how awfully reminiscent this was of her meetings with Chat Noir. On very quiet nights, one of them, usually Chat, would volunteer to detransform, head to a convenience store or a kebab shop to grab a late-night snack, which they would eat at the top of their favorite sightseeing spots.

“So, this is what you do in your free time?” Marinette said, opening a bag of chips to go with her soda. “Sneaking into people’s rooftops?”

“You could say that, I guess,” he said.

Marinette shook her head as she munched on the chips.

“It’s just nice to hang out where no one will find you sometimes,” he explained.

“Yeah, I can see the appeal…” After a moment of silent contemplation of the landscape, Marinette spoke again, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Only if I get to ask you something, too,” he said with a wink, to which Marinette rolled her eyes and nodded.

“Okay, shoot,” he said.

“How come you’ve been so rebellious lately? I mean, I just noticed you’ve been missing your gazillion things to do, and Nino just mentions it sometimes. I don’t mean to pry, it’s just… you always seemed so, so–”

“Boring?”

“Perfect.”

Adrien scrunched his nose in disgust as he stuffed his mouth with a handful of Haribo bear gummies. “Precisely because of that. I’m tired of acting like someone I’m not.” He sighed. “I was doing it to please my father because I thought… I thought if I just did what he wanted he’d get out of his head and mourn my mom like a normal freaking person. But lately I’ve realized he’s not grieving her, he’s just an asshole.”

Marinette perked up at the comment, suddenly remembering Chat Noir’s suspicions.

“That sounds tough… Is there anything in particular that he does, or…?”

Adrien gave her a funny glance. “He made me homeschooled ‘til age fifteen. And he also sorts of forced me into this whole model thing. I mean, I don’t have anything against it, but I would like to stop at some point. My dad will probably have an aneurysm when that happens, though.”

Marinette chuckled half-heartedly. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, I just try not to think about it ‘cause otherwise it just gets super depressing,” he said, pulling his knees to his chest. “Can I ask you now?”

Marinette nodded.

“How come you’re so… calm right now?”

“Calm?”

“I think this is the first time we’ve had a full conversation,” Adrien said, with a bit of a blush. “It’s… nice.”

“Oh. That, heh.” Marinette blushed, too. “I don’t know, you always just made me a little nervous, is all.”

“Why, is it because I’m famous?” he said, acting smug so as to annoy her, to which Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Ugh. You’re so full of yourself,” she said, chuckling. She didn’t know what came over her as she jabbed him with her elbow. There was a certain familiarity to the lightness of their conversation that she couldn’t pinpoint, something that made her simply trust him.

Adrien was surprisingly open about himself. It could be they were enjoying a sort of privacy that was almost just reserved for her and Chat Noir, but it was pleasantly surprising. She almost felt sad that she hadn’t gotten over him before.

A few years ago, she would never had done this in a million years, but in the light of how her breakup with Luka made her realize important things about herself, she just decided to let him know.

“It’s kind of silly, actually,” she said. “I used to have this huge crush on you.”

Adrien coughed on his drink. “Really?” he said, managing to sound shocked. It was not because he didn’t know, but because he was surprised Marinette actually had the guts to admit it to his face.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “But it’s all water under the bridge now, don’t worry.”

“Oh, sure!” Adrien said, laughing nervously and unable to feel a little wounded. “And anyway, how are things with Luka?”

“That’s two questions in a row,” she teased, trying to steer the conversation away from that topic.

He rolled her eyes, ruffled her hair, and used the distraction to snatch the bag of chips from her hands.

“Hey! What you’d do that for?” she exclaimed.

“There’s your question,” he said grinning at her and handing her the bag again.

Marinette laughed, faking indignance.

“You don’t have to answer that, though,” Adrien said, assuming a quieter demeanor. “I just noticed you’ve been looking a bit down lately, and Luka doesn’t hang out with the group anymore, so I thought maybe something was going on… but actually, don’t answer. It’s nosy of me, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said with a sigh, looking out to the city. “Actually, we just broke up,” she admitted, sadly.

“What?”

Marinette shrugged, without looking at him as tears were threatening to make an appearance. “We just… we weren’t right for each other.”

Adrien regretted the turn the conversation had turned. “You really love him, huh?” he asked quietly.

“Yes… no… I don’t know,” she admits. “It’s complicated. I do love him, just… not in the way he wants me to–it’s just… It’s a mess. I really care about him, but I realized lately that I sort of love someone else, so it’s really not fair to keep dating him. And he was the one that broke up with me, anyway. He was smart enough to figure it out before even I did,” She sniffed and suddenly realized what she just had done. “Oh, wow. And just like that I’m oversharing. I’m so sorry, I rant without noticing, sorry,” she said blinking back tears and fanning her face, chuckling with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to dump my problems on you.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Adrien hurried to reassure her, if only so as to hide the confusion Marinette’s confession stirred inside him. “I don’t mind.”

After a while he said, “I get it, though. It’s the same reason I broke up with Kagami.”

Marinette turned to look at him. “It sucks big time,” he said. “I didn’t want to let her down because she’s a great girl and she was unbelievably good to me, but… At one point you just realize it’s just not fair.”

Marinette nodded, surprised that Adrien would understand exactly where she was coming from. “That’s… that’s… you get it, yeah.”

The moment was abruptly interrupted by a sort of commotion. A massive electric blue cloud of dust rose in the horizon, then contracted, then expanded, again and again. It was an Akuma, no doubt, but it seemed almost as if it was glitching. As if the butterfly couldn’t decide whether or not to akumatize.

Both of them stood up at the same time, snacks forgotten.

“Uh… we should get down,” Adrien offered, knowing that Marinette would probably look for an excuse to go transform. “It’s not safe up here with an Akuma around.”

“Right!”

They rushed downstairs and out to the street. Marinette seemed evidently stressed that she wouldn’t be able to shake him off so again, for her benefit, he inconspicuously played his ringtone and pretended someone had called him.

“Yes? Aha. Yes. Okay.”

He pretended to end the call. “I should probably head home,” he said. “They found out I’m sneaking out.”

“Yeah, yeah. Me too–I mean, my parents don’t like it if I’m out and there’s an Akuma, so… see ya!” she said.

Adrien had to laugh at the fact she didn’t even wait for him to say his goodbyes.

He turned to an indistinct alley to transform and vaulted in the direction of the Akuma.

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aubrey-plaza · 4 years ago

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proof of concept: TELL THEM (TO FREE THE BEAUTIFUL)

AUTHOR: aserenitatum / @theron (prev. monae/kate-siegel) FANDOM: Pitch Perfect (movies) PAIRING: Stacie Conrad/Aubrey Posen - Staubrey STATUS: draft WORDS: currently 8721 TAGS: set during Pitch Perfect 2, based on that behind the scenes gif of Stacie pulling Aubrey into the mudpit NOTES: Happy Birthday Kim! Thank you for being literally the loveliest person in this fandom and for always supporting and encouraging my fics (and even supporting me through all my other fandom hopping lmao). Writing is made so much better and fun by knowing that you’ll be reading and I’m so grateful we as a fandom and me personally get to know you <3 I’ve been working on this but it’s become such a long project that I didn’t manage to finish it today in time but I’m sharing just a lil sneak preview so that you know that your gift is on its way!! I hope you are having the best day and that we may be blessed with many more years of you!

Stacie Conrad, 3:48 PM Hey Aubrey! I’m assuming I can put you down as a definitely for Worlds?

The phone buzzes at the chime of an incoming text and slides off Stacie’s middle and her reflexes are quick enough that she manages to grab it before it slides off the couch as well, fingers unlocking the screen as she checks her messages and frowns with a Cheeto halfway to her mouth.

Aubrey Posen, 6:02 PM Who is this?

Stacie pops the snack in her mouth and licks her fingers clean, ignoring her show on the large television to navigate to her camera app to take a selfie. Her front-facing camera opens and she winces at the sight of herself, hair that had been previously pulled into a neat French braid now wild and askew and framing her face not in a good way, there’s Cheeto dust on her chin from where she’d been trying to toss them into her mouth, and her mascara is smudged making her look like a raccoon.

She looks awful.

Stacie immediately sits up, which already makes her look marginally better. She reaches behind her and tugs the elastic from the end of her braid, dropping her phone for the time being so she can use both hands to finger comb her hair loose and even though the braid Chloe had put in for her wasn’t super tight, her scalp still feels lighter with her locks flowing freely.

Fingers under her eyes to wipe her smudged makeup away and to brush off the remaining orange dust, and when she lifts her phone again to look at herself, she looks much, much more presentable.

She snaps a quick picture of herself smiling and shoots it off, ready to toss her phone to the side until she sees the bubbles with three dots pop up that tell her Aubrey’s typing.

Stacie Conrad, 6:10 PM {img attachment} it’s meeeeee

Aubrey Posen, 6:10 PM Oh! Hi Stacie.

Stacie Conrad, 6:11 PM wait do you not have my phone number saved?! 😭😭😭 I thought we were friends 🥺😭😩

Aubrey Posen, 6:12 PM You’re ridiculous. And no, I don’t but I’m saving it now with that picture as your contact card

Stacie Conrad, 6:13 PM why not 😟 ur breaking my heart 💔 that’s fine bc it’s a cute picture!!

Aubrey Posen, 6:14 PM It is. I had to get a new phone because SOMEBODY pulled me into the mudpit

Stacie Conrad, 6:15 PM 😮 what a terrible person but you really shouldn’t have your phone with you when working near such dangerous sites who knows what could happen?

Aubrey Posen, 6:16 PM A rogue Bella with a plan?

Stacie Conrad, 6:17 PM but you looked so good covered in mud 😍

Aubrey Posen, 6:18 PM so you’ll forgive me if the first person in my new phone isn’t the same person who got me all muddy 😠

Stacie Conrad, 6:19 PM 😘 so, you in for Copenhagen? Chloe said you’d be

Aubrey Posen, 6:20 PM Yes

Stacie Conrad, 6:21 PM Awes! You know… now that you have a picture of me, I feel like the nice thing to do would be to send me a picture of you

Aubrey Posen, 6:22 PM I just got out of the shower

Stacie Conrad, 6:22 PM wow you skipped right past the pictures and buildup and went straight to sexting? woman after my heart does this mean you’re in a towel right now?

Aubrey Posen, 6:23 PM No, it means that I’m not sending you a picture. Good night.

Stacie Conrad, 6:24 PM good night??? it’s like 6pm

Aubrey Posen, 6:24 PM I have plans

Stacie Conrad, 6:25 PM with someone or something? 😈😈

Aubrey Posen, 6:25 PM I’m not going to tell you

Stacie Conrad, 6:26 PM I’ll just start imagining things

Aubrey Posen, 6:27 PM I know; that’s why.

Stacie Conrad, 6:27 PM oh Aubrey you don’t know what you’ve just started

Aubrey Posen, 6:27 PM I think I do 😉

Stacie Conrad, 6:28 PM a WINKY emoji huh? wow okay well you enjoy your night. think of me when you light a candle for the mood. first rehearsal is next thursday at 6 in the auditorium. pls bring running shoes because beca wants to punish you with cardio

Aubrey Posen, 6:29 PM I don’t consider any type of exercise a punishment

Stacie Conrad, 6:29 PM so many responses, so little time

Aubrey Posen, 6:29 PM And now you’ve wasted your comeback. Goodnight Stacie.

Stacie Conrad, 6:29 PM byeee

Stacie groans at the sound of her phone chiming with an incoming message, rolling over and burying her face in her pillow while cursing herself for leaving her ringer on instead of silencing it like she she does every day before bed, and she’s about to fall back asleep when another message comes in.

She cracks open an eye to glance around the small room, whining softly when she notices that it’s not entirely light outside yet and cursing whomever is up at the early hour and sending her messages.

She desperately wants to ignore her phone and go back to sleep but there’s a small, niggling part in her that can’t leave it be, and the knowledge that there’s somebody texting piques her curiosity and won’t allow her to [rest] so she rolls back and flails for the phone somewhere on her night stand.

She flinches when she screen lights up, squinting at the sender of messages and both eyes widening when she reads who the texts are from.

Aubrey Posen, 6:57 AM Good morning! {img attachment}

Stacie sobers up at the sight of Aubrey’s smiling face, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail and wearing minimal make up, clearly wide awake and standing outside because Stacie can see the lake behind her and the glint of the rising sun reflected on the surface of the water.

She slides back down into bed, curling up as she types out a quick response, her own smile never budging as she hits send.

Stacie Conrad, 7:01 AM VERY cute! but waaaay too early so goodbye

more to follow soon!

#k8 writes #staubrey #stacie conrad #aubrey posen #staubreyfic #pitch perfect fanfiction #proof of concept #yes i may very tentatively be back #gift fic

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chrwrites · 4 years ago

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Take Me As You Please - Chapter 3

Ch 1 | Ch 2

read on ao3

Marinette opened the door to her house to find Alya followed by Alix, Rose, Juleka and Mylène, “What are you all doing here?” she asked in surprise.

“Being there for you, obviously” Alya said as the girls came inside and hugged Marinette. She couldn’t help but smile while she was surrounded by warm arms that were preventing her from falling apart. When her friends pulled back, they showed her what they had brought for her: a bag full of different snacks, ice cream, and a DVD set of romantic comedies they could cry to. Marinette never felt so lucky.

As they set the food on the coffee table in the living room, Mylène told Marinette she was sorry for not noticing she was sad the day before. She thought she was concentrating on her designs, “I’m so used to Ivan not wanting to be distracted when he’s working on new music that I do the same with all my friends”, she said giving Marinette an apologetic look. Marinette smiled reassuringly at her, “You don’t have to be sorry! I wouldn’t have wanted to talk about it anyway. So... What are we watching?” she asked in order to change the subject. She didn’t really want to face what bothered her in that moment, Adrien dating her friend was the cherry on top of way too many problems for a sixteen-year-old like Marinette. She should have gotten used to it by now, but sometimes here responsibilities were still too much, and she needed a moment where she could just be herself and not feel any weight on her shoulders.

“I brought Love Actually, He’s just not that into you, 500 Days of Summer, The Notebook, Under the Tuscan Sun and Eat Pray Love for you to choose” Rose said, adding that she spent the whole morning looking for the right movies for her. Marinette thanked her and picked a DVD, her choice was pretty obvious.

“We’re watching He’s just not that into you” she said, putting the disc in the player.

“What? Are you sure? Alya protested.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I would’ve chosen it too, you know” Alix winked at Marinette, who felt reassured. She didn’t really know what the movie was about, but she hoped it could help her given the situation.

“Oh, too bad you didn’t choose Love Actually, I really like that one” Rose pouted.

“Did you know that there was a lesbian couple in that movie? They cut them off though” Juleka said.

“What, really?” Rose asked in an offended tone, to which the purple haired girl nodded, “It was the same dramatic trope as always anyway, one of them died. I’m glad they cut it off honestly.”

At that, Rose wrinkled her nose in disapproval, “Is a happy ending too much to ask? I swear, if I hear about another lesbian killed off in a movie, I’ll take matters into my own hands and make my own death-free lesbian movie. I don’t care.”

Juleka chuckled at her comment and looked at her fondly, she had the same calm and sweet expression of her older brother in that moment. Marinette thought about the way the two made each other happy and brought the best out of each other. Maybe it was because she watched their relationship blossom under her eyes, but they were the kind of couple people looked at and said “I want what they have”, everyone could see that they cared about each other a lot and they weren’t the kind of couple that made people around them uncomfortable with their displays of affection. Marinette wished she had that something like that, too.

She pressed play and let the movie begin.

As she watched the story unravel, Marinette couldn’t help but think about how she had been just as hopeful as the main character. The way she had always wished that someday Adrien would have seen her as something more than a friend reminded her of how the protagonist overanalysed every little thing her date did just to convince herself that he was interested in her. But if a guy wanted to be with a girl, he would have done anything to be with her. It hit her, how harsh and cold reality was.

That was probably the hardest pill to swallow, Adrien wouldn’t have done that kind of anything to be with her. She shouldn’t have had this stupid crush on him in the first place, he would have never fallen for her, they were just friends and she should have cherished his friendship more instead of wanting and trying to turn it into something more. Life was not a romantic comedy, and she wasn’t an exception. She was the rule.

She didn’t realize she had started crying until all her friends cuddled on her on the couch, and Marinette noticed that Rose’s eyes were wet too.

The movie didn’t end with the character picking up the pieces and moving on by herself, she got together with the same guy who opened her eyes on how men behaved after she called him out on his selfishness. She became his exception. That was a movie after all, she couldn’t expect anything different.

All Marinette had left was the ending speech.

Maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe… it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is… just… moving on.

She had to move on from her crush, no matter how hard, painful and long it would have been, and she didn’t want to lose his friendship over something so stupid. She wasn’t fourteen anymore, she could handle this in a mature way.

With the encouragement of her friends, Marinette deleted all the pictures of Adrien she kept on her phone, she couldn’t believe that such a small step made her feel like she had fought one of the worse villains she’s ever fought. She refused to take his pictures off the bulletin board in her room, claiming she used them for inspiration, she still needed some time after all.

They spent the rest of the afternoon on the terrace, talking about everything and nothing and doing each other's nails until Marinette’s mum brought them delicious homemade pizzas for dinner. Marinette wasn’t feeling like the whole world was crashing on her, that weight became lighter the more she spent time with her friends. She didn’t care about the fact that she probably would’ve let herself drift into sadness again before going to bed, because in that moment she was okay and she wanted to enjoy that. She finally had the chance to behave like an ordinary teenager, she could think about everything else later.

The air got colder as stars appeared in the dark sky, and although their light was dimmed by the city lights, they still shone bright. Marinette felt at peace watching them, but when Alya got up and said that her dad was coming to pick her, Alix and Mylène up, she felt the serene atmosphere slip through her fingers. She knew it was late and that her friends had to go home, but she wished for the day not to end.

Marinette walked the three girls to the door and gave each of them a tight hug that said what she couldn’t say. Thank you for being there for me, I’m lucky to have you.

After that, she had to say goodbye to Rose and Juleka too. They thanked her while wrapping her in a bone crushing hug. Marinette let out a sigh as she closed the door and went upstairs, her mind was letting out the thoughts she had kept suppressed until then. How hurt she was, how hard and almost impossible it would be to forget how she felt around Adrien, how kind he was to her, how much he relied on her and their friendship, how she had tried in the clumsiest and most absurd ways to confess her feelings for him. Like the time she wrote him a letter but forgot to sign it, or when she plotted along with her friends a plan to ask him out while he was having a photoshoot at the Trocadero. She never noticed how irrationally her crush made her act until now.

She picked her crush over a friend once. She chose Adrien over Luka when Jagged Stone asked her if she knew any guitarist. She dumbly put Adrien first because he was Adrien, and he was perfect, but Luka was perfect for what Jagged had asked. He was talented and sensitive enough to play people’s heartbeat and melodies that could calm turbulent feelings with his guitar, not to mention the fact that Jagged was his favourite singer and Marinette would have made him really happy by suggesting him . She cringed thinking about her behaviour. Yes, she was stupid, and it happened ages ago but how could she pick a crush over someone who had always been – and still was – there for her? He didn’t deserve that treatment, and that behaviour was so unlike her she felt disappointed in herself.

The worse thing her crush made her do, was letting herself be convinced by Chloe into ruining Kagami’s time with Adrien out of jealousy and envy, and telling each other it was for Adrien's sake. Marinette had been so blinded by her feelings that she let them turn her into someone she didn’t want to be. Her and Kagami weren’t friends at the time, but she felt bad for how she behaved, especially since she so proudly claimed that girls should never compete against one another for the attention of boys.

Wasn’t a crush supposed to make her want to be the best version of herself? Why did she do those things? Why did she learn his schedule by heart? Was a crush supposed to make her feel this way?

“Well Marinette, sometimes feelings can be so overwhelming that you forget who you really are, and you make mistakes. Don’t beat yourself up for them. Your heart is pure, and you never meant to harm anyone”, Tikki told her, “It’s a good thing that you realized that you’ve made mistakes, but don’t forget that you did everything you could to make up for them, and you have grown from them.” The small creature put both her hands on her cheek in an affectionate way and squeezed it, as if they were giving her a hug. Marinette gave the Kwami a smile, feeling slightly reassured. She felt like she had to do one last thing before letting her past mistakes go, and that was talking to Kagami.

She remembered how, that time she had to fight against Love Eater and chose her for back up, Kagami told her – well, she told Ladybug – that hurting Marinette was the only thing that was preventing her from pursuing Adrien, and that she was her only friend.

And in the end, it was Marinette who let her pursue Adrien, she left them alone that time because she knew that they would have been happy together. She shouldn’t have been surprised of the turnout since it wasn’t completely unexpected, although it hurt. How long had it been since then? A year, more or less.

Kagami and Marinette had become closer, and they hung out almost on a weekly basis depending on their schedules. She was a good friend, she was realistic, determined and very good at helping Marinette keep her feet on the ground, and Marinette, on the other hand, listened to her when she complained about how her mum could be too strict or how the people attending her school were spoiled and annoying, and encouraged her to open up and not to restrain herself in order to please her mother. Marinette didn’t want to lose her.

For this reason, she reached for her phone and looked for Kagami's contact. She typed in a message but then deleted it and stared at the empty box on her phone screen. She tried to type something again, and yet again, she deleted it.

Type. Delete. Type. Delete. Type. Delete.

Words seemed to have lost their meaning, Marinette didn’t know how to express herself anymore. Tikki tried to encourage her before she finally took a deep breath and started typing something quickly.

Hey, Adrien told me that you two got together. I’m really happy for you :)

I hope we can meetup soon so you can tell me everything in person!

Send.

“You did the right thing” the red spirit reassured her.

Marinette didn’t read the message again, typing it down had already consumed her, but deep down in her heart, Marinette knew that Adrien's heart was in the right hands. Even if they weren’t hers.

As long as he was happy, she would have been happy too.

At least, that was what she told herself before going to sleep, and before she kept tossing and turning in her bed while she forced herself to ignore the tormenting images of Adrien and Kagami together that were forming in her mind. She tried to find something to soothe her thoughts, but she couldn’t think of anything that could help, except for... Why didn’t I think about this before, she shook her head as she reached for her earphones.

That night, Marinette fell asleep to the comforting happy melody Luka sent her.

Marinette woke up the next morning with her earbuds tangled around her neck and the music still playing, if this had to be the cost of getting some hours of sleep then so be it. She stretched before reaching for her phone and freeing herself from the thin cords that had left sleep marks on her face.

There was a text message from Kagami that said that she had cleared her schedule to see her that afternoon. Oh, Marinette wasn’t ready. Marinette wasn’t ready to confront Kagami at all. That’s why, instead of going downstairs to get breakfast, she ended up spending the morning pacing around her room and panicking while Tikki tried to calm her down, and when her mum came to her room to announce that lunch was ready she broke down in her arms, pouring all her feelings out.

Sabine kept her daughter close and listened carefully to everything she had to say, and when she started questioning how she acted around Adrien she reassured her that it was normal to behave differently around someone you liked so much, even to the point you ended up doing things you could regret.

“Mom, how do you know if the feelings you have for someone are genuine?” Marinette asked her while her mom so delicately wiped the tears from her face, she still thought that all the feelings she had for Adrien were wrong for what they made her do.

“You put their happiness first”, she answered with a soft voice.

The girl nodded, feeling smaller in her mother’s arms, and slightly comforted by her words.

Did Marinette want her friends to be happy? Yes.

Were her friends happy together? Yes, that’s why she had to put her feelings aside. Thinking about it, she had already done it when she left them alone at André’s ice cream cart that one time. Before she made Hawk Moth find Master Fu, and before she herself became the Guardian of the Miraculous.

Marinette wondered if things could have gone differently if she hadn’t let her feelings for Adrien distract her. Moving on from her crush was definitely for the better.

When she met Kagami that afternoon, the two talked everything out and they realized they had always avoided talking about their crushes because they knew they liked the same person and didn’t want to make things awkward. Marinette admitted of liking Adrien, but she had let him go when instead of confessing her feelings to him, she encouraged him to go after Kagami. It would have been perfect if her heart wasn’t still clinging on the feelings she had for him, but she decided that her priority was seeing her friends happy., and Kagami was definitely happy. She was different from her usual composed self, a new light glowing in her eyes. Marinette had never seen her so relaxed. It surprised her, but she was glad to see this new side of her friend, even if the reason behind that made her heart twinge.

Marinette tried to ignore the ache she felt as Kagami talked about Adrien, forcing herself to smile, she wondered when it would have started to hurt less and tried to hold on to the fact that she had gone through worse. She didn’t really want to spoil her friend’s happiness, even if it hurt her, she could handle that.

Why would she ruin something she had for something she could never have? She had to accept that she would have never had something more than a friendship with Adrien, and if she cared about him and Kagami as much as she claimed, she had to support her friends and give up on her stupid teenage crush, even if it hurt more than she could admit.

Marinette was relieved when they finally changed subject and talked about how neither of them hadn’t started their summer homework yet, it was the second week of holiday after all.

They spent the rest of the afternoon at Albert-Kahn Garden, walking around the park and admiring colourful flowers and plants, Marinette felt calmer than as she felt the warmth of the sun on her skin.

“Did you know that its fruit and seed sprout at the same time?” Kagami said, pointing at the fully blooming lotus flowers floating in the pond below them, “It means fullness and rebirth, since they grow through mud and dirt”.

“I didn’t know you were interested in plant symbolism!” Marinette looked at her in disbelief, she had always seen her as someone methodical and concrete, she didn’t expect her to be interested in such things.

Kagami just gave her a tiny smile and continued to list the characteristics of the lotus, and she did the same with other species as they went on walking around the garden, “Those represent friendship and devotion” she said, pointing at a flower bed full of Peruvian lilies of different shades of pink, yellow, orange and red. Marinette looked around her amazed and took out the small sketchbook she always had with her. She was so struck by the beauty of the nature that surrounded them in the middle of the city that she felt the need to treasure it on the pages of her sketchbook. She quickly sketched a bunch of Peruvian lilies, then went on to draw some other flowers as they explored the marvellous garden and Kagami explained the meaning of the flowers that caught Marinette’s attention.

At the end of the day, the once blank pages were filled with pencil drawings of different kinds of flowers, and Marinette had written their meaning beside them with her neat calligraphy. Before saying goodbye to Kagami, Marinette ripped off one page from her book and gave it to her. The astonished look on her face as she looked at the sheet with the Peruvian lilies in her hands made Marinette chuckle.

“I – thank you, Mari” Kagami smiled, and then gave her a small hug. She wasn’t very good at displaying affection so Marinette took it as a big accomplishment and she hugged her back.

Tikki was right, she did the right choice when she decided to talk to Kagami and find a new starting point for their friendship. She was nowhere near getting over her crush, but she felt she had at least made some progress. She would’ve gotten used to listen to her talking about Adrien the way she wished to.

Her heart was incredibly lighter as she walked to the underground station.

#lukanette #lukanette fanfic #endgame lukanette #ml fanfic #fic: take me as you please

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missperfectlyfine13 · 4 years ago

Text

A Bandaid For Your Bullet Hole - (Chp. 2/?)

Read Below or on AO3/FF

TW: Mentions of overdose

August 2009

“Mom, I’ve got all my stuff in the ca….” Chloe’s sentence is swallowed back up into the atmosphere when she walks back into the living room, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Chloe’s mom is sitting in the middle of the sofa, her arms wrapped tightly around a scruffy looking man in a mechanics uniform. There’s a few half empty bottles of booze on the coffee table and a lit joint between her mother’s fingers. She laughs airily at some dumb remark the stranger practically underneath her makes. She’s as high as a kite and probably drunk to boot.

“Chloe!” her mom’s eyes light up at the sight of her only daughter, “come have a drink baby.”

The only good thing about her mom getting high instead of drunk is that she is much happier. Her mom is an angry drunk, she turns into someone that Chloe scarcely recognizes. At least when she’s high she somewhat resembles someone Chloe used to know.

“What happened to taking me to college today?” she snaps, completely ignoring her mother’s request.

“That was today?” she asks dumbly, bringing her glass tumbler to her lips, taking a long sip of dark amber liquid.

Chloe groans frustratedly, “We’ve been talking about it for weeks.”

“Calm down princess, we can still do it,” she’s got to be kidding, she’s not going to let her mom drive anywhere like this.

Chloe shakes her head vigorously, “No. It’s fine, I’ll just stuff everything into my car and do it myself. You clearly have more important things to do.”

Her words must permeated through her mom’s hazy brain because she’s jumping up from the sofa, some of her drink sloshing out of her glass and onto the cream colored carpet, “No, Chloe let me do this. I want to do this.”

“I’m not taking you anywhere like this,” Chloe motions up and down her mother’s body, “you would just be an embarrassment.”

Her expression almost looks hurt before it turns bitter, “If that’s how you feel about me, then fine do it all on your own. See if I care.”

Chloe turns around without another word. She mindlessly shoves all her belongings into her little chevy impala, barely getting in everything she needs. She doesn’t even bother to go inside to say goodbye before driving down the road. It’s time for a new beginning, a new life, one she doesn’t have to hate. She has a good feeling about Barden, hopefully her gut is right.

************

December 2012

The winter air is crisp, sending a shiver down Chloe’s spine as her and Beca walk towards her dorm. They just left Bellas rehearsal and the air almost feels good after all the exercise.

“So, what are you doing for winter break?” Beca breaks the comfortable silence, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her coat.

Chloe shrugs, “I’ll probably stay on campus, I might go visit my brother, if he’s going to be around.”

Beca looks at her dumbly for a moment before composing herself again, “You aren’t going home for Christmas?”

Her and Beca have gotten really close this semester, Chloe might even dare to say she’s her best friend…if she didn’t have a heart stopping crush on the younger girl that is. Even so, she’s not sure if she wants to unpack her reasoning for never going home yet.

“Nope,” she answers the question simply, hoping Beca will just take the answer and let the topic drop.

She knew she wasn’t going to be that lucky, because Beca doesn’t care about anyone…anyone but her it seems. Chloe is the only person Beca goes the extra mile for, at least from Chloe’s point of view, that’s how it seems.

“Why?” the question barely surprises her as it come out of Beca’s mouth, her breath leaving a puff of white in the air.

“It’s a long story,” Chloe tries her best to deflect, but she knows Beca won’t give it up.

Maybe opening up to someone else would feel good. Maybe to weight of her problems would feel a little lighter.

“I’ve got time, we can go get coffee?” Beca looks at her hopefully, “My treat?”

“I thought you were having a movie night with Jesse,” Beca had been talking about it all week, the excitement of a new relationship and all.

That’s another thing that has been making Chloe feel even worse than she does at this time of the year. She had a bad feeling Beca would end up with him…she had a bad feeling she was straight. Chloe loves their friendship, but it just makes everything that much more painful.

“You were literally coming to my dorm to hang anyways, that’s not until later,” Beca laughs.

Chloe’s cheeks burn red, “Oh yea, sorry, blonde moment I guess?”

“You’re not even blonde, you don’t get to use that one.”

Chloe gives Beca a playful shove, “Shut up.”

After another five minutes of walking, they finally end up at the coffee shop. Before Chloe knows it, there’s a steaming hot cup in her hands and Beca looking across the table at her expectantly.

“So now, why don’t you go home for Christmas?” Beca parrots the question from earlier, making Chloe squirm uncomfortably in her seat.

“So, I guess it all really started when my dad died,” Chloe twirls the paper cup in her hands, attempting to channel her nerves into something else.

Beca nods, encouraging her on.

“My mom kind of self-imploded after his death…it started with drinking. It just spiraled from there, drugs, lots of sex with random men. It made all four years of high school miserable for me,” Chloe can feel tears threating to spill, she never talks about this, “after my first Christmas back home in college I vowed to never go back until she got her shit together.”

A hand reaches across the table to settle over her own. Chloe looks up into Beca’s eyes, which are sad and empathetic. It makes her feel comfortable, grounded, Beca’s hand against her own. Her fingers twitch underneath the touch, she never wants to break the contact.

“I’m so sorry Chloe,” Beca says softly, “that must be really hard…so I take it she’s still pretty bad?”

Chloe nods slowly, “Uh yea, I’ve tried to get her to go to rehab but she won’t listen, I’m worried she never will.”

“I know this is nothing compared to what you dealt with,” Beca looks vulnerable as she speaks, “but high school was really rough for me too. My parents got a divorce and my dad married my now step monster. I felt so betrayed, I felt like nothing would ever be right again. I felt like my dad was giving up on me.”

“I’m glad you shared that,” Chloe turns her hand so it’s holding Beca’s instead of lying limply below hers, “I’m glad I’m not the only one with a shitty story.”

“I mean you definitely win if we’re comparing, but yea, it was nothing to write home about,” Beca smirks.

Beca finally pulls her hand away and Chloe instantly misses her touch. She quickly moves her hand back to her cup, lifting it to her mouth, not wanting Beca to know how much the little contact affected her.

“Do you want to come home with me for Christmas?” Beca asks after a few moments of silence.

The question practically makes Chloe choke on her latte, “I couldn’t do that Bec. Your family doesn’t even know me.”

“They know of you,” Beca replies nonchalantly, “plus they would love you.”

“So, you’ve talked about me to your family?” Chloe quirks an eyebrow.

It’s Beca’s turn for her cheeks to fade into a light shade of red, “They were asking if I made any friends…so I told them about you.”

“Don’t be embarrassed Beca, I love that you’ve told them about me. If I talked to my mom, she would know about you, because you’re one of the best things about this semester,” Chloe says honestly, hoping the blunt truth doesn’t weird the other girl out.

A smile the size of Texas spreads across Beca’s face. She doesn’t seem sure how to respond, but Chloe knows she probably feels similarly if her expression is to judge.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Jesse to go home with you for Christmas instead of me?” Chloe suddenly remembers Beca’s boyfriend.

Beca shakes her head no, “He has his own family to go home to, plus I’ve only been dating him for a month. I’d much rather have you come with me…especially because I want to save you from having to be here for three weeks.”

“I’ll think about it,” Chloe finally answers Beca’s offer.

She’s going to have to think hard about it, the last time she went home with someone for Christmas…well let’s just say it’s not a fond memory. It was an almost eerily similar situation. She had known Aubrey for one semester and after the blonde found out about her mom, she had invited her home for Christmas. She also needs to remind herself that it was a very different situation all together.

************

December 2009

There’s no hiding the fact that Chloe is scared to go home for Christmas. She’s scared about what she’s going to find. It’s the first time her mom has been alone for that long. Chloe watched out for her more than a teenage daughter should.

She also left on bad terms in the fall.

She could walk into anything really, which is terrifying. Which is why the whole drive back to South Carolina, Chloe is practically shaking with nerves. She probably shouldn’t have loaded up on coffee like she did, the caffeine isn’t helping. Aubrey has called her on and off, offering her support…and the reminder that she can go to Aubrey’s house if it’s too bad. Chloe was determined to make this work though; she didn’t want to run away on her mom completely. Chloe is not a quitter.

About an hour later she finally pulls into the driveway of her mom’s house, the windows are dark even thought the sun set hours ago. That’s already not a good sign. Chloe puts the car into park and takes a deep shaky breath. She gets out of the car after a few moments of composing herself.

She slings her bag over her shoulder and walks up the path to the front door, her hand shakes as she lifts the key to the lock. Chloe pushes the door open slowly, she can hear the TV blaring some infomercial for air tight containers. It’s the only light illuminating the living room. As Choe steps further in the door, she can see her mom’s identical mop of red hair flowing over the arm of the sofa, her hand hanging limply down onto the floor. She can’t make out much else with how dark the room is, the blue-ish light of the TV making everything look a little eerie.

An ice-cold feeling courses through her, her heart rate picking up. Something isn’t right, she can just feel it. Chloe throws her bag down onto the floor and rushes over to the sofa. It barely looks like her chest is moving up and down, her lips look a little blue. Out of the corner of her eye she sees a baggy of pills on the coffee table. Shit. This can’t be happening.

“Mom,” Chloe says firmly, “Mom!”

Nothing.

Chloe kneels down next to her and shakes her vigorously, “MOM.”

Her hands shake as she pulls her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. Her fingers can barely hold still as she dials 911.

The operator is calm and comforting. She walks Chloe through checking to see if her mom’s heart is still beating. She feels like she’s floating through some nightmare as she rips her mom’s shirt open and starts chest compressions. She has no clue how long she hammers into her mom’s chest before the door busts open and the paramedics are pushing her out of the way. Her vision blurs as she finally lets herself cry.

She’s not quite sure how she gets to the hospital. The world finally comes back into focus when a nurse carefully approaches her and asks if there’s anyone that she can call for her.

“Um, my best friend, Aubrey,” her voice sounds foreign to her.

************

When Chloe’s mom finally is stable and back at home, Chloe leaves to go back home with Aubrey. Before she leaves, it isn’t pretty, her and her mom scream and fight, but there is no way she’s ever going to come back home to that again. Chloe gives her a final ultimatum: Go and get some help or I’m done here.

Christmas is miserable, even though Aubrey’s family is warm, inviting and sympathetic. They make her feel like she’s family. Even so, Chloe has never felt more alone. She feels like she has nowhere to go. She has no one to bake her cookies to take back to her dorm or give her a hug that feels like home when she needs it or give her boy (or girl?) advice. She’s all alone and it’s something she’s going to have to get used to.

************

December 2012

“I’ll go home with you,” Chloe offhandedly mentions to Beca as they sit on the bed in Chloe’s room at the Bella house.

Beca’s eyes light up and the chips she was munching on practically fall out of her mouth, “Really?”

Chloe nods, after thinking about it, the idea of having people to spend Christmas with would be really nice. It’s something she hasn’t experienced since Christmas her freshman year.

“I would love to,” Chloe smiles happily at the younger girl next to her.

“That’s awesome!” Beca exclaims, “Oh shit, I’ve got to book the flight like now then.”

“You haven’t done that already?” Chloe looks at her quizzically.

Beca shrugs, “I was waiting to see if you would want to come first.”

“You could have missed out on getting tickets Bec, you shouldn’t have.”

“I know, it’s ok though, I wanted to,” Beca looks down at her phone, which has flight listings to Seattle already displayed, “get your snow boots ready Beale, it’s been chilly out there this year.”

“You know, I’ve only seen snow a couple times in my whole life,” Chloe already feels excited thinking about seeing the fluffy, white precipitation.

Beca’s eyes bug out, “Dude, we are so going sledding.”

For the first time in years, Chloe is starting to feel excited about this time of year. This might be the best Christmas she’s had in a long time…

#bechloe fanfic #pp fanfic #bechloe #my stuff

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2sunchild2 · 5 years ago

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Daminette au: Slow burn

I’m writing this instead of my fic because I just got hit by a little bitch, named inspiration.

Au by the great and powerful wizard of Oz @ozmav

Tags owo: @mindfulmagics @realrandomposts @chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay @slytherinsheashire @kelelamentia @justatempo-writes @jaynintodd @maribat-archive @starry-bi-sky @ayuchan07 @kaitlinmarley @miraculous-mangoes

ՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁՁ

15 year old, the meeting

Damian Wayne was never the social type. He mostly kept to himself and tended to stray away from any social interaction. There was plenty of that at home. He repeats to himself every time he gets upset over not having a friend.

He walked up the steps of Gotham Academy so he could escape whatever embarrassment Jason was planning on putting him to. The kid around him began whispering, and although immune to it (they talked about him a lot), he couldn’t help but eavesdrop at th conversation going on two feet away. He didn’t want to be obvious so he didn’t lean in too much, but he heard snippets.

...new girl...

...Paris...

...just moved...

A new girl? Interesting. He would look into that when he gets the chance. He made his way to the science classroom, bumping into an unfamiliar body. The people around them quieted down, staring curiously. The body ended up being a girl, who unfortunately dropped her books. She blushed in embarrassment and started speaking in a language he knew, but never really spoke.

She was rambling in French.

She was unfamiliar to him.

Oh... she was the new student.

She stopped when she noticed the silence and looked down, probably more embarrassed than before, if that was even possible.

“Damian Wayne.”

He had no reaction to the voice of Olive Silverlock (a real character I swear I looked it up) who marched up to him with a steely gaze.

“Are you trying to scare our new student on her first day?” The silver haired class president didn’t give him a chance to answer since she turned to face the flustered French girl, “You’re Marinette, right?”

The girl managed to nod. Olive grinned and locked their arms together, “Let’s get you settled in your dorm, ‘kay? And then I’ll give you a tour.”

The girl smiled at that, her blue eyes shone brightly. She let out a soft ‘merci’ to Olive and she turned to Damian before being dragged away.

“Je m’excuse.”

16 years old, the first step; starting out

Damian Wayne was not one to go out with a girl. That was Dick’s job. And yet, he looked at his best friend, whose head rested on his shoulder as she thought of a new design.

They were at the park today. Marinette mumbles something about the need to be inspired. They were in the manor at the time and Titus, with his amazing timing, wanted to go outside. It was a win win for everybody.

Damian watched as she focused on the blank page she seemed to be at war with. It was actually funny to see her this frustrated. He tried to hide his chuckle and failed. It was rewarded with a bone-chilling Marinette Dupain-Cheng glare. He put his hands up in surrender and smiled sheepishly. She went back to her glaring match with the paper.

Damian sighed and leaned back against the bench, “Don’t stress too much about it Angel, inspiration will surly make its way to your lap in no time,” he gestured towards the book set on her thighs.

It seemed like someone was in fact listening to him. A pretty pink petal had landed in the middle of the sketchbook. Marinette picked it up curiously before letting out a gasp. She turned to Damian with the biggest smile he’d seen today, “My best friend Damian,” she started, “I was hit, by a little bitch called inspiration.”

Damian let out a laugh. Only Mari.

17 years old, the second step; accepting

Damian Wayne didn’t like a lot of people. And Chloe Bourgeois was far from being one of the few. She arrived in Gotham, claiming to be a friend of Marinette’s. He was doubtful but the girl kept insisting and frankly, he wanted her to shut up.

Turns out the blonde girl was right because the next think he knew she was being tackled by his best friend. They were both on the floor, laughing in the lobby of the student dorms.

They sat in the cafe and he couldn’t help but notice how much lighter Marinette seemed to feel with this girl. She looked happy.

Damian decided that Chloe Bourgeois wasn’t so bad. As long as he got to see his Angel smile, he was content.

18 years old, the third step; falling

Damian Wayne was not an emotional person. He didn’t cry when he failed that one exam. He didn’t cry when he got badly hurt in a fight (though he tried to reassure Mari he was okay but she was not having it and he kept flinching every time he moved). Hell, he didn’t even cry during graduation.

So you can imagine the shock he was feeling when he felt a tear rolling down his cheek as Marinette stepped out of her dorm room in her prom dress. He could see Olive smirking at him from the corner of his eye but he paid no attention to her, he was to busy gawking at the beauty in front of him.

He never left her side during the party. And if she ever walked off to talk to some friends, he would always be watching her. Some guys kept telling him how ‘whipped’ he was. He did was he did best and ignored them.

The last dance of the night was surely something he’d remember for the rest of the night. They held each other closely while the music was playing in the background. He stared at her bluebell eyes as though nothing else mattered. It was just them.

It was safe to say he wasn’t expecting a slow kiss. But it happened. He enjoyed it. And he kissed back.

19 years old, the fourth step; realizing

She left.

Well, not entirely. She just wasn’t in Gotham at the moment. And she wouldn’t be back until Christmas.

Marinette had gone off to college abroad, in Paris, specifically, to pursue her fashion career.

And even tough they video chatted every weekend, it wouldn’t fill the gaping hole in his chest. He wanted her there, with him. He wanted to snuggle up to her while they watched one of those cheesy rom-coms she enjoyed so much. He wanted to sit in the kitchens and watch her hum a Disney tune while she baked. He wanted to hold her whenever she cane running to him with good news. He wanted to be with her while she sat down and sketched. He thought it was adorable the way she scrunched her brows in concentration, or how she stuck her tongue out when she was sketching, or, whenever she had artist’s block, when she’d doodle little things on his hand. He wanted to hold her dammit. He wanted to take her out, court her. He wanted to be with her, and for her to be with him. He wanted to hug her so tightly and tell her how much he loved her.

Huh. Love.

That’s something he hadn’t thought about before. Did he love Marinette? Or was this just admiration?

No. Fuck that. Fuck admiration.

He loved her. He fucking loved her.

He was in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

20 years old, the final step; confessing

Damian Wayne was not nervous. Of course he wasn’t! He was Damian Wayne! He was Robin for fuck’s sake. Surely that would be harder than a little confession.

Right?

That was what he had initially thought.

And he was wrong. Oh so very wrong.

Damian Wayne was a fucking wreck.

Marinette had been rambling about one of her design projects. One she, obviously, passed with flying colours. That wasn’t what he had been paying attention to though. Maybe it was how the July breeze seemed to brush her hair, making it fly. Maybe it was the way she used her hands so animatedly whenever she told him a story. Maybe it was the way her eyes sparkled when she got exited over something.

“I love you.”

That made her stop. And it made him regret opening his mouth.

She stared at him, mouth agape, face as red as the strawberries in the bowl she was holding.

“I...you...what?”

Well, he couldn’t take it back now. And he did mean it. God this was noth how he had imagined confessing.

“I love you,” he took a sharp breath, “I’ve loved you for quite some time now actually. I only realized it last year.”

He raked his had through this hair and let out a shaky breath, “I honestly don’t know how it happened, but it did. And I’m glad it it.”

He looked back at her to see how she’d react. Her eyes were still wide and it didn’t seem like she’d be saying anything so he decided to continue.

“You don’t have to answer immediately! I was uhh... wondering if... you would let me court you... you don’t have to accept I mean you already have so much going on but if you’re willing—”

He was cut off. It took him a second to process what was happening.

She was kissing him.

Holy shit! She was kissing him!

But before he could kiss back, she pulled away, much to his disappointment.

“I love you too, silly,”she gave him a big toothy grin, he swallowed the lump in his throat. He could practically hear his hear beating in his chest.

She intertwined their hands and leaned in, “And I would love for you to court me.”

They were about to kiss again, but, this time, someone else decided to interrupt.

A faint ‘yes!’ was heard near the bushes, the voice sounded scarily familiar to Dick’s, which followed by a slap and an offended ‘ow’.

“Should we tell them we know they’re spying on us?”

His Angel laughed and shook her head, “Let them have their fun.”

¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥

Last post before I start school!

#maridami #daminette #maribat fic #marinette x damian #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug au #made me emotional

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cycwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Four Drinks I’m Wasted

Angst lite Staubrey standalone AU oneshot.

Something I didn’t plan on writing and then I had ideas while driving home. I’m annoyed that I’m writing angst. I’m even more annoyed I picked on Aubrey but it… fit.

Inspired by King Princess’ ‘Talia’ (YouTube / Spotify / Lyrics) but I’m a soft and useless human so the angst is merely ‘light medium’.

Thanks as always to @tiny-maus-boots for the beta and to @wlwoolf for helping classify the angst level.

Rated: Mature-ish. Drinking & almost driving.

Words: 3,286

Also on AO3 and FFN

Master Post

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

~A~

Aubrey groaned quietly as she swam through the thick whiskey haze toward consciousness.

As had become standard, she ran through a mental hangover checklist to try and take stock of what she’d been up to the night before and how rough her morning might be.

Headache – check.

Feeling like something died in her mouth – check.

Nausea – check, though she knew it could be worse.

At home in her own bed instead of passed out on the couch, or the bathroom floor, or once in the shrub outside in her backyard… she listened for the comforting bubble of the aquarium across the room – check.

Imagined warmth of the woman who left her lying beside her in bed?

Fucking. Check.

Faint memories of the night before were slow to surface.

“Goddamnit Aubrey, give me your fucking keys.” Hands pulled at her arm, trying to pry her fingers apart.

“Fuck you, Beca.” Aubrey shot back, lifting her hand above her head. “Why do you even care? You’ve never really liked me, so what the fuck business of yours is it if I live or die?”

It wasn’t that she had a death wish. It wasn’t like she wanted to die. She had just stopped caring one way or the other.

“Seriously? You can say that to me?” Beca looked hurt – shocked and devastated Aubrey would think later – and even though part of her was horrified at what she was saying, it was at the bottom of a sea of liquor and she didn’t care. Wouldn’t let herself. “If I didn’t fucking care, Aubrey, I wouldn’t fucking be here stopping you from fucking killing yourself by getting into your fucking car!”

Aubrey sneered and keyed the remote lock. “Who asked you to?” She opened the door and prepared to get in when she was staggered forward by a weight on her back. Shock worked its way through the alcohol in her system as she realized Beca had literally jumped on her back and was trying to bodily prevent Aubrey from sitting in the driver’s seat.

“I am not going to let you leave us! I am not going to let you fucking leave me and Chloe behind to explain to Stacie what the fuck happened! I am not going to fucking let you fucking quit! Posens don’t fucking quit!”

Aubrey swung in a half circle, trying to dislodge the arms and legs that were wrapped tightly around her body. Beca’s words were bouncing around in her head, trying to remind her that she wasn’t truly alone, she had people who cared and it was she who was pushing them away. With a strength she didn’t know she had she flung Beca off her in an attempt to remove all the guilt that had slammed into her harder than Beca’s tackle.

Anger suffused her, made her want to lash out and in the cold light of morning she would realize it was at herself but at the time Beca had all her focus. She swung her fist at Beca’s head, noticing her friend’s (because she still was, despite everything Aubrey had been saying to her and Aubrey knew it) eyes widen in shock and move too late to miss it entirely but it merely skimmed off her cheek and Aubrey’s hand slammed into the metal frame between the front and rear doors.

“Aubrey!”

That explained the throbbing that had been slowly getting worse in her hand. Still laying with her eyes closed she flexed her right hand carefully, relieved that it didn’t seem to be broken, just swollen and painful. The rest of the night was only bits and pieces but she thought that a terrified Beca had frantically checked her for broken bones and carefully deposited Aubrey in the passenger seat and drove them home. There were flashes of red hair, ice packs and possibly someone had brushed her teeth for her? She also thought that Beca had undressed her and dumped her less than carefully into bed, but tucked her in.

She really had been shitty to Beca and Chloe since Stacie had walked out on her three months ago. She knew they loved her. That they had been there for her. Trying to keep her from the spiral they could see happening. Comfort take-out food and movie nights that Beca hadn’t said a word about. Nothing had helped.

The drinking hadn’t been the plan. She wasn’t an alcoholic, even though that’s exactly what alcoholics said. She came from a family of high functioning alcoholics and knew the signs. Even if she could lie to others, Aubrey could almost never lie to herself. Her self-hatred would have jumped at the chance to call her a failure for joining the ranks of her boozy relatives after a life of vowing never to become them. She could stop whenever she wanted. Except she didn’t want to.

Because the only time Aubrey could lie to herself was when she was drunk.

She could make herself believe that Stacie was still there.

Drink enough and she could see the love of her life in front of her, dancing; smiling that sexy smile that was meant for only Aubrey. The one that promised sinful things in silken sheets and made her body sing in anticipation.

Feel her touch. Taste her lipstick.

Feel her lying in bed when Aubrey finally collapsed into it, certain she would remain when Aubrey woke.

They had been together for years, waiting to get married until Aubrey had finished law school and got settled at a firm. The wedding was small, immediate friends and family only, and the honeymoon was heaven on Earth. When they got back, Aubrey began to work her way through the ranks, lured ever on by the promise of being made a junior partner if she just worked hard enough.

The fights began their second year of marriage.

“I’m doing it for us, for our future!” Aubrey slammed down the notepad she’d been writing on. “Why can’t you see that?”

“What future, Aubrey?!” Stacie stood in the doorway, back straight and eyes snapping fire. And, Aubrey would only realize as she played the memories back after it had all fallen apart, pain and loneliness. “What kind of future are you working towards if I never get to fucking see you?”

“I just need a little more time! They have to promote me this time!” She gritted her teeth. “I’m doing it for us!”

The fight was always the same.

Until one day it wasn’t.

“I don’t think I have any more time to give, Aubrey. I miss you even when you’re here. Buried in the next case… and the next.” Stacie wasn’t sobbing but tears streamed down her cheeks and Aubrey’s chest went cold. “It hurts too much.”

Every night she would sort through her memories, pulling out favorites until she cried herself to sleep, wondering how she could be so stupid.

Three weeks after Stacie had walked out and not come back except to pack her bags, Aubrey had hurt so much she drank just to numb the pain. There was a block of ice that ached in her chest until she drowned it in whatever was handy. She’d mentally joke that she herself was on the rocks as she took another drink. She imagined what she would do if Stacie were there. What she’d say. How she’d vow to do better, be a better wife. Make up every missed dinner, missed phone call, missed nights on the couch binge watching Netflix.

As the night grew late and the bottle grew lighter, it was almost like Stacie had been there and Aubrey fell asleep thinking Stacie was beside her.

She was shattered when she woke alone in the morning and called in sick for the first time.

That was only the beginning.

She chased the dream every night, while growing more and more irritable at work. Stormed out of meetings after arriving late. Snapped at clients and yelled at interns. Counted the seconds until she could get home and open the bottle she’d buy on the way.

Two weeks ago she’d gone to work still half-drunk from the night before.

She was put on suspension pending a review. She’d been a model employee until then and her boss gave her three weeks to get her shit together. Personally she thought they were giving her a chance because she was their best researcher and the boss thought her legs looked great in a skirt.

Aubrey stayed home and drank for the first week.

Chloe and Beca had been alternately furious and cloyingly concerned when they found out.

“Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve-“ Chloe somehow looked ready to scream and cry at the same time.

“Helped?” Aubrey laughed derisively. “No, you can’t.”

“We love you, Aubrey. We just want you to be happy.” Chloe’s hand on her arm had burned and Aubrey jerked free and stalked to the kitchen.

“Got a time machine in your pocket, Chlo?” Aubrey snorted and poured herself another shot.

It was the same old shit every time. They couldn’t help her and she didn’t even know why they would try. There was obviously something wrong with her; something that made her unlovable. She had ruined the one thing that gave her life meaning. Stacie had left her and it was just a matter of time before Beca and Chloe figured it out and left. She didn’t deserve them and maybe it was just better to lose them now than later when she failed them too.

She had started going to their favorite bar because there were different memories there that she wanted to relive.

Winning at darts despite Stacie’s long arms that Aubrey teased gave her an advantage.

Slow dancing to the jukebox in a dark corner as if they were the only two in the room.

Losing at pool because Stacie was a natural born hustler.

Unfortunately the problem with going to your favorite local bar is that sometimes they know you.

Sometimes they know your friends.

Sometimes they call annoying busybodies who try to tell you that you have to stop.

But she couldn’t stop because then the pain would find her and Aubrey had always been an amazing runner in school. It translated easily from physical activity to metaphorical sprints void of her own mind.

She had to drink to keep Stacie with her any way she could. Why couldn’t they see that?

She sighed and tried to find the energy to move. To dispel that feeling of warmth in bed with her. The more awake she was before she got up, the more that seemed to hurt. Bracing herself she reached out her left hand to sweep through the empty space that matched the one in her heart.

Her fingers brushed against warm, soft skin.

She froze, her mind somewhere between ‘I’ve finally done it - I’ve drunk myself into insanity’ and ‘Beca must have stayed to make sure I didn’t actually kill myself.’ She pulled her hand back to her side and clenched both fists, increasing the throbbing ache from where she’d punched her own car.

“Aubrey.”

Everything shut down. Because that wasn’t Beca.

She was afraid to look - it couldn’t be. She couldn’t be here. Because Aubrey had fucked it up, fucked it all up: her friends; her work; the reason for her very existence.

“Bree.” Warm living fingers took her cold nerveless ones and pressed them to lips Aubrey could see clearly in the screaming darkness of her mind.

“You can’t be here.” Aubrey’s voice shook so bad it was almost intelligible. “I pushed you away.”

“I’m here.” Warm breath skimmed over her fingers. It felt so real. More real than the alcohol dreams usually did. She must have really fucked up if she was still this drunk. “All you have to do is open your eyes and look at me.”

“I always see you,” Aubrey said softly. Since this wasn’t real, she squeezed the hand holding hers. “At least when I drink... You’re here. You’re in my arms. And I stop feeling like I’m dying in slow motion.”

“Oh baby.” The broken, sorrowful tenderness in it further opened wounds that had never even begun to heal. “This isn’t who you are.” Drops of liquid hit her hand and Aubrey wondered how a dream could cry. “I know this isn’t you.”

“I don’t know who I am without you.” Aubrey said softly. “I don’t know how to find myself without you to catch me.” Introspection wasn’t normal for her - overthinking, yes, but not this two way dialog with her subconscious. But she had to admit, she found it comforting to hear Stacie’s voice wrap around her once more.

“I’m sorry I left.” Lips kissed her hand again. “I shouldn’t have. I should have stayed and fought for us.”

“It’s all my fault. I was so wrong,” Aubrey stirred restlessly when the warmth shifted closer to her. “I couldn’t see I was working toward nothing at the cost of everything.” She gave a bitter laugh. “They weren’t going to make me a partner; I was just too blind to see he was just using me to win his own damn cases.” She shook her head against her pillow. “Doesn’t matter, they’re probably going to fire me.”

“You’re better than them, Bree.” Another shift and the long, lithe body that pressed against her brought tears to Aubrey’s eyes. “I’ve always told you that you need to find a place who appreciates you as something other than a drone slave.”

“Maybe,” Aubrey shrugged carelessly. “But what does it matter now? I’ve thrown away the only future that ever really mattered.” A sob choked her. “I miss you so much, love.” The advantages of hallucinating were you could say anything and the only person to hear it was you. “The world has no laughter. No color. No light. No purpose. No hope.”

“Honey.” Lips pressed against her temple. “Please look at me. See me.” She sounded so sad, so desperate that Aubrey felt new guilt lap at her.

“You’ll disappear. Like you always do when I wake up.” Aubrey licked her dry lips. “I’m not ready… for that yet.” It hurt, oh it hurt to feel her so clearly after months of smoke and shadows. But to lose this dream would be so much worse.

“I won’t disappear.” Another kiss to her temple as a long arm stretched across her stomach. “I promise you.” The sense of comfort – of home – the achingly familiar touch brought was so strong Aubrey’s body relaxed of its own volition.

“I’ve broken my promises so many times… ” Aubrey said wistfully. “I would give anything to go back and do it over. Treat you better – because you deserve nothing but love. Not be ignored or asked to wait a few minutes that stretched late into the night. Show you that nothing else in this entire fucked up world matters but you.”

“Do that now. Open your eyes and look at me, Aubrey.” The whisper in her ear was everything Aubrey wanted to believe. Everything she’d tried to believe before and woke to an empty bed. An empty house. An empty heart.

“I’m afraid to.” Tears slipped from her eyes as she began, for the first time, to wonder.

She was afraid to be alone.

Suddenly terrified she was not.

“Don’t be - I’m here, love.” Lips trailed over the side of her face. “I swear.” Hands took hers and pressed it against a strong and fast beating heart. “I’m here.”

“That’s why I’m afraid,” Aubrey whispered, unable to recognize herself in the broken voice that hung in the air.

“Please.”

Aubrey swallowed thickly as she balanced on the knife edge of indecision.

If she did and Stacie wasn’t there, the weight of loneliness would quite likely crush her.

If Stacie was there… Aubrey’s shame would kill her. She wasn’t proud of who she’d become. She knew she was out of control. She just didn’t care anymore.

If Stacie was actually there… Aubrey could smell the alcohol coming from her own pores. She knew the state of their house. The bottles left carelessly on counters. Take out containers piled up on top of a garbage can too full. She didn’t want to see the disappointment or, worse, the pity.

“I’m ashamed.” She hadn’t meant to say it and wished she could take the words back. “I’ve… I’m not… I don’t deserve…” she trailed off as a sob rose viciously in her chest and all but strangled her as it refused to come out. “You.”

“I love you,” Stacie said softly, still holding Aubrey’s hand against her chest. “We’ll get through this. There’s nothing that we can’t work through as long as we’re together. Nothing is lost forever.”

“You still love me? After… everything?” She didn’t want to believe… couldn’t stop hoping.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Aubrey Posen.” Stacie’s voice was still quiet but the truth in her words was louder than the rush of blood in Aubrey’s ears. “The past three months all I’ve done is miss you. I told myself otherwise, but when Beca called me last night… in hysterics… told me how you didn’t care if you lived or died…” A tremor shook the bed as Stacie’s breath hitched. “Nothing that had happened mattered anymore. I couldn’t live in a world where you were not. I came right over; Beca let me in. She and Chloe are passed out on the couch and I’ve been watching you sleep, afraid you’d slip away if I closed my eyes.”

“Funny,” Aubrey gave a humorless chuckle. “I’m afraid you’ll slip away if I open mine.”

“I know,” Stacie whispered. “But I’m here, love.”

Aubrey steeled herself. Tried to harden her heart so when she opened her eyes to an empty room it wouldn’t destroy her.

“Before I do, there’s something I have to tell you. While I can. Before you’re gone.” Aubrey took a careful breath. “You are the best part of me, Stacie. I was nothing before you and I’m less than nothing without you. You brought a love into my life I thought I didn’t need and I broke the promises I made when we got married. I took you for granted and mere words cannot express how sorry I am that I hurt you. If you were really here, I would spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of your love.”

Gentle fingers against her cheek followed as Aubrey turned her head, her heart trying to break its way out of the constraints of her ribcage.

“I know, Aubrey… but you already are. We just lost sight of that.” A gentle kiss was placed against her lips. “I promise we’ll be better. Both of us.”

Slowly, as if she were expecting a blow, Aubrey opened her eyes to stare into liquid emerald pools that shimmered with tears. She waited for several seconds, waiting for the mirage to vanish like so many had.

But she didn’t.

Stacie smiled at her, so tenderly that Aubrey’s heart almost broke with the love that welled up inside her.

Wonderingly Aubrey reached up and touched her jaw, tracing one thumb across her lips.

“Stacie?” Hopeful. Terrified.

“Always, my only.” Stacie pulled her in close and Aubrey buried her face in her neck, inhaling deeply as the scent that was uniquely Stacie’s filled her senses. One she had been unable to replicate no matter how much she drank. She shuddered as giant glaciers cracked and fell away, freeing her from the weight that had been pressing on her for months. Years. “Always.”

Real.

Solid.

Hers.

#Staubrey #Aubrey Posen #Stacie Conrad #Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Bechloe off page #angst with an implied happy ending #potential trigger warning #drinking and almost driving #self loathing #cyc writes #cyc oneshots

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kinnaman-smorgasbord · 5 years ago

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Esquire Singapore Dec 2019 - Joel Kinnaman Interview

OBSERVERVABLE ACTS

Editor-in-Chief: Norman Tan Photography: Michael Schwartz Stylist: Chloe Hartstein Groomer: Kristan Serafino Story: Wayne Cheong

Instead of a rooftop shoot that we had planned, we’re indoors at Dune Studios on Water Street. Outside, the weather is every writer’s dream: “It is an ash-streaked sky that portents a downpour.” “Like a warning, steel wool hangs overhead.�� “A dishevelled blanket of grey that drifts languidly like detritus in a muddied pond.” A wet weather doth not a good shoot make.

When Joel Kinnaman arrives, the first thing you notice is how large he is. Bigger than life, broad-chested, he sometimes stands astride, like he’s about to break the spirit of a wild stallion. Then, there’s that presence; a sort of aura that’s quiet but still strong-arms you for your attention.

Just as the fashion shoot is about to start, Kinnaman asks if he could put on his own playlist for the shoot. He brings up his Spotify playlist, titled ‘For some of mankind’. ‘What Becomes of the Brokenhearted’ by Jimmy Ruffin plays.

“The playlists are just for fun,” Kinnaman tells me. “I’ve made a playlist for every project that I’ve been in.”

The project that this particular playlist was made for is For All Mankind, now playing on Apple TV+. It’s a show that puts forth the idea: what if America lost the space race to Russia?

Created and written by Ronald D Moore, the visionary behind the reimagined Battlestar Galactica and Outlander, For All Mankind stars Kinnaman as Edward Baldwin, a NASA astronaut who works alongside Buzz Aldrin (Chris Agos) and Neil Armstrong (Jeff Branson). Kinnaman’s character isn’t based on a particular historical figure, instead he is a composite or a representative of the ‘all-American’ astronauts of that era.

“I’m half-American and half-Swedish,” Kinnaman says. “I’ve lived in Sweden and America so, in a way, I’ve a split identity. My favourite part of the American spirit is not giving up. If they get knocked down, it is a national honour in getting back up and continuing the fight. In reality, when the US got to the moon, it concluded the space race. We didn’t get the continuation in space exploration that everyone was promised.”

Kinnaman is drawn to the science-fiction genre, fantasising of what could have been (though it can be said that the broad field of fiction can also put forward, ‘ what if’). Growing up, he watched the Star Wars movies, he loved the cyberpunk feel when he shot Altered Carbon. He is a fan of Blade Runner due to its dystopian future.

Do you think that sci-fi’s dystopian trope is becoming a reality? Kinnaman muses on that. “We’ve a president who is a national and international embarrassment. He’s immoral, a compulsive liar, a narcissist who doesn’t respect or appreciate democracy. I pray and hope that this nightmare would soon come to an end.

“But I believe we have the potential to overcome this. If we change paths and realign our focus in coming together as a human family, we can solve whatever problems that come our way together.”

This sentiment is echoed in For All Mankind, although the loss wasn’t the be-all and end-all for America. According to Moore, in losing the space race, America ends up the winner in the long run because of the continual effort into space exploration.

“Art can be a little lazy in pointing out the negatives. In many instances, the role that art and the artist play is showing us what’s wrong: that’s important but showcasing the positives is equally important. For All Mankind shows us how we should be operating if we are guided by our better angels.”

Physicist and theoretical biologist, Erwin Schrödinger, came up with a thought experiment. Imagine, if you will, a cat that’s sealed in a box. And inside that box is a device that might or might not kill the cat. Quantum theory states that quantum particles can exist in a superposition of states at the same time. Some even theorise that the quantum particles will collapse to a single state when it’s observed. When applied to Schrödinger’s cat, the feline is both dead and alive until you open the box.

Schrödinger came up with this thought experiment to explain that “misinterpreted simplification of quantum theory can lead to absurd results which don’t match real world quantum physics”. In the real world, it’s absurd that the cat is both dead and alive at the same time.

But one can also see this as an example of how the scientific theory works. Nobody really knows if a theory is right or wrong until it can be tested and proved. It’s like asking someone out on a date, you don’t know if that cute girl or guy will go out with you until you ask; the possibilities of rejection and acceptance remain in co-existence.

That is before you open the box.

Observe: Joel Kinnaman wouldn’t have existed if his father, Steve, had not defected from the US Army. An Indianapolis native, the elder Kinnaman was drafted and stationed in Bangkok, Thailand during the Vietnam War. While he was there, he started spending time with European backpackers, who have a different perspective of the war. A seed was planted. It finally blossomed when he attended a friend’s wedding in Laos. “It turned out that the woman’s family was half Laotian and half Vietnamese,” Kinnaman says. “It was an emotional moment for my dad. He asked himself if these were the people that he was going to kill.”

Still reeling from the love he had witnessed, the elder Kinnaman returned to his base. It was then that he was given the news that he was being reassigned to the battlefront in Vietnam.

In the history of war, the common punishment for desertion is death. According to the US Uniform Code of Military Justice, Article 85, it is meted out “by death of other such punishment as a court-martial may direct”. (Since the Civil War, only one American serviceman was executed for desertion: Private Eddie Slovik in 1945.)

Knowing the penalties for desertion, the elder Kinnaman made the decision that night to leave camp. He hitchhiked his way up into northern Thailand and into Laos. He burned his passport, changed his name and passed off as Canadian. For the next four years, he lived life among the Laotians doing odd jobs. Then, he found out that Sweden grants asylum to Vietnam deserters. Since moving to Sweden, President Jimmy Carter eventually issued an amnesty in 1977. The elder Kinnaman continues to reside in Sweden. After his first marriage ended, he was involved with Bitte, a therapist. This relationship yielded Joel.

“I’ve been working on the script about his life,” Kinnaman says. “The idea would be that I’d play my dad but I’m getting a little old.” It’s a story to be told, one about the dangers of blind patriotism; a tool that’s often exploited by governments. “We need to be critical individuals who should make up our own minds.”

Observe: Kinnaman had his first taste of acting when he was 10. He played Felix Lundström on Storstad, a soap opera that looks at the lives of the residents living in the fictional town of Malmtorget. Back then, Sweden had only two TV channels so even if it’s a secondary or even tertiary role on an ensemble piece, people will recognise you. “I didn’t understand it,” Kinnaman says. “There was something thrilling about being famous but there was something I didn’t like about it either.” His whole experience as a child actor was underwhelming.

In fact, taking a page from ‘history repeating itself ’, observe as Kinnaman could have been a soldier in the Swedish army.

“It was mandatory for the men to be conscripted for a year in the army and it was during my time when the rules for enlistment started to relax,” Kinnaman says. “If you didn’t want to enlist, all you have to do is purposely fail the proficiency tests.”

Alas, Kinnaman was so caught up in the competition that he aced it. His results showed potential to be a company leader. He was enlisted and assigned to an 18-month tour in the Arctic Circle but Kinnaman plum forgot about it. When he moved to Oslo, Norway, to be a bartender, he received a call from his mother, informing him that there was a government notice stating that he was supposed to enlist in three days.

He called the army to tell them that he was no longer in the country. “They said, this is a serious offence and I could get prison time for this. But if I were to write a letter to explain the situation, I could get out of this.” And then he forgot to write the letter. Kinnaman continued working odd jobs but he was always haunted by the thought that if he were ever to be arrested by the police for anything, they might discover his draft dodge from his records and he would be sent to prison.

“I ended up at this fight outside a night club and got taken in by the police.” Kinnaman says. Observe: Kinnaman could have ended up serving his sentence for draft dodging but nothing came of it.

Acting was calling out to him once more. His friend, Gustaf Skarsgård (famously known for his role as Floki in History Channel’s Vikings), was on track to becoming an actor and advised Kinnaman to apply for theatre school. After several applications, Kinnaman finally got into what he describes as “Sweden’s second-best acting school” and would go on to film two movies during his enrolment.

After graduation, he continued acting in Sweden before moving to America. He kept himself busy. He made an appearance in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo; starred as Governor Will Conway in House of Cards; made people notice with his portrayal as the homicide detective, Stephen Holder; scored the lead role in the Robocop remake; was cast as Rick Flag in Suicide Squad.

The one genre that Kinnaman can’t seem to appear in is comedy. Yes, he has a stern demeanour but the man is also funny. “Sometimes, Hollywood sees you in a certain way and it’s much easier to get cast for it. And the next is similar to that and so on. I haven’t made an effort to dissuade people’s opinion. The lighter side is probably more me.”

The closest he has gotten to doing comedy is the shooting of the Suicide Squad sequel. Helmed by James Gunn, Kinnaman said in another interview that it feels like he’s “shooting his first comedy”.

“I’ve been around tough people with issues before,” Kinnaman continues. “I’ve had some bad times so those kind of environments were natural to be in. It’s a survival mechanism too. A way for me to cope as I grew up. At the time, you’re figuring out about your identity. I felt insecure, powerless and didn’t know what to do in life.

“It was a period of my life that was pretty negative. But one of the beauties of acting is that those dark periods become a mother lode that you can mine from. Maybe I’ve drawn a little bit too much from it by playing too many tough guys.”

In May 2016, Kinnaman was one of the delegates and personalities from Denmark, Norway, Iceland, Finland and Sweden who was invited to one of President Obama’s final state dinners. Kinnaman, dressed in a sharp tuxedo, attended the dinner with his then-wife, Cleo Wattenström.

He overheard that the Obamas were fans of House of Cards and was looking forward to being introduced to them. At the reception, he and the other representatives stood in a row as President Obama made his way down the line, shaking hands and posing for a photo op. By Kinnaman’s admission, his mind wandered as he imagined what he’d say when President Obama came up to him. “Maybe I’d say, ‘Mr President’, and then he’ll say ‘Governor Conway’, and then we’ll laugh. And we’ll end it with a cool handshake.”

And all of a sudden, the president stood before him and Kinnaman muttered, “Mr President…” There was an awkward pause. Kinnaman would recount that it’s very possible that either the Obamas hadn’t watched the episode that he was in or if they did, his presence made zero impact. Before the silence could prolong, Kinnaman ended with, “thanks… for everything”. President Obama said something along the lines of, “Surely but surely, we cannot lose hope” and Kinnaman was ushered off.

He would retell this story when he introduced President Obama at Brilliant Minds, a conference of creative individuals who embody the forward-thinking spirit of Sweden, in June 2019. After the introduction, he returned backstage, where President Obama was waiting for his cue to go up. “He had this huge smile on his face and he said to me, ‘bring it in for a cool handshake.’ We hugged, we talked for about five minutes. He was super friendly. I’ll always remember that moment.”

Kinnaman isn’t shy about his politics. He voiced support for the #metoo movement; he had championed the environmental cause by one of his fellow Swedes, Greta Thunberg; he does not hide his disdain for the Trump administration.

“I think the last UN report stated that we have about eight years to turn back our carbon expenditure into the atmosphere,” Kinnaman says about where we’re heading as a species. “You don’t have to be a prophet to see that the world is heading towards the wrong direction. The oceans are heating up, the glaciers are melting. These natural disasters will be more frequent and that’s gonna lead to more tensions among countries.

“Politically, we’re moving towards a more nativist direction; people are pulling away from international cooperation. There’s the rise in disinformation campaigns, which will threaten democracy.”

But Kinnaman, ever the optimist, still believes in the human spirit, that we can innovate our way out of this quagmire.

Observe: Kinnaman, who was born with pectus excavatum, chose to correct the disorder instead of living with it.

Pectus excavatum is a chest-wall deformity that affects roughly one in 400. Instead of the breastbone being flush against the chest, it sinks in. Measured on a scale called the Haller index, anything above an index of 3.2 is considered severe. Kinnaman’s index was a seven or an eight.

“It’s something that’s survivable,” Kinnaman explains. “But it’s a condition that grows worse over time: your posture becomes worse; your stamina worsens as your heart is not given room to pump. By correcting it you can add years to your life.”

For a condition this severe, doctors had to insert two curved metal bars across his chest. Then the bars are turned to force the chest out and then the bars are wired to his ribs. The operation changed his life for the better. He doesn’t feel self-conscious whenever he removes his top. Six weeks after his surgery, he had to do reshoots for Suicide Squad. It was a fight sequence but Kinnaman sucked it up. “Would you like to feel it?” He asked.

He raised his arm like an invitation. I reached out and felt the spot, where the metal bars are, beneath the fabric and skin.

That’s an interesting party trick, I say. Kinnaman could only chuckle in response.

“It’s funny, if you ask me to say a line from a movie that I’ve been in before, I can’t. Not one line from any movie that I’ve done but I once did a monologue that was one hour and 30 minutes and I knew it by heart after 10 days.”

Kinnaman used to opine that as a Swedish American, growing up with dual cultures gives him a better perspective of the world but that also left him feeling like he doesn’t belong. He jumps from place to place, leading a nomadic existence.

“But I think,” he says as though he had stumbled upon some great truth a long time back, “I don’t wanna travel so much any more. Home. That’s where I’d like to be. I have two bases: one in Venice, LA and the other, an hour outside Stockholm.

“Growing up, my family didn’t have any money. We lived in this tiny little cottage that was in the middle of the woods. Now, I have this piece of land, where my family lives. This past midsummer was the first midsummer that we all spent together.

“That’s my new happy place.”

Joel Kinnaman looks like a man who has placed the final piece in that mystery of his life. He has stopped worrying about how he’s perceived by the public. He has exorcised people who have “struggled with jealousy, who don’t have a natural inclination towards generosity”. He has zero tolerance against bullshit. He likes how his career is shaping up—aside from Suicide Squad 2, For All Mankind is now filming a second season, and Kinnaman has three films coming out: The Informer; The Sound of Philadelphia and The Secrets We Keep; the last two, he avers, are his best work. “People who have watched me for a long time, it will remind them of my early career and for people who recently followed me, they will see a new side of me.

“I have goals that I’d like to achieve. Actor awards are such bullshit… until you get one. But yeah, that would be great. In future, I’d definitely want to be in a producing role and at some point, I’d like to also direct.

“I’ve said that I’d direct in five years time for about 10 years now.” That might change. His life is still a long and open road ahead.

Schrodinger’s cat posits two states that the creature can be in—dead or alive. But what if there’s a third option. That within the confines of the box, the cat is not there. It’s escaped. Unburdened from the stipulations of a thought experiment, free to do what it wants.

#photoshoot #magazine #joel kinnaman #esquire singapore #interview #we feed on scraps of new info #ive linked his Spotify playlist for people who missed it in march

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13-reasons-ideas · 5 years ago

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Finding Peace In Another Part 20

A/N: Trigger Warning: This chapter contains explicit depiction of sexual assault. I have put the assault in italics so you can skip that part if you are uncomfortable reading it. As always, feedback is appreciated and much love!

On Monday Montgomery was out sick. He had gotten a cold over the weekend and spent most of his time at my place in bed alternating shivering and sweating with a fever. He insisted that he go back to his place and I go to school this morning as I protested vehemently. He argued that both of us missing school would not only be, quote, “detrimental” to my education but would also raise people’s suspicions about if our friendship was deeper than they thought. I reluctantly agreed, making him promise to stay in bed and continue resting. I spent my morning before class with Cyrus, hanging out listening to music. I texted Montgomery in History to check up on him, not expecting an answer any time soon. The morning was very uneventful. We had a chapter quiz in English and then started watching the movie adaptation of the book. The day got very interesting at lunch however. Bryce was being very charming and attentive. He even sat next to me at our table. I assumed it was because he was just trying to be friendly. “Hey Becca, can I ask you something?” Bryce asked me suddenly as lunch was ending.

“Yeah sure Bryce, what’s up?”

“I know you said never to ask you for help in math but... I could really use someone familiar with the stuff to help me out?” He asked me, innocently. I deliberated my answer for a few minutes before replying.

“Alright. I can try and help, but I make no promises it will make you understand anything more.” I said, adding the disclaimer so he couldn’t say I screwed him over if he didn’t do well.

“Nice. Meet at my place after school? My parents are away on vacation for a week.”

“Sure. I’ll see you then.” I made sure to pay attention as Mr. Daniels explained this week’s concepts to us in class, so I could try and explain it to Bryce that afternoon. I decided not to bother Montgomery with it and didn’t let him know about hanging out with Bryce. It’s just tutoring, and he lives literally four houses away from me. Besides, he’s one of Monty’s best friends. It’s not like he would try anything. Then why did I feel a pit in my stomach the rest of the day? After school I went to my locker to grab my things and let Bryce know I would meet him at his place in 15. We arrived at roughly the same time and went inside. He was polite and offered me a bottle of water and made himself a snack, offering me something to eat as well, which I declined before going up to his room to study. I sat at his desk as he plopped himself down on his bed and we began studying. I started with the basics. Good old Pythagorean Theorem. “So, if a2+b2=c2 is used to find the hypotenuse of a right triangle, and if you have one where side a is 7cm and side b is 12cm, then what would side c be when rounded to the nearest 10th?” He grabbed his pencil and started to work out the answer.

“Uh... 13.9?” He asked, unsure. Checking over his work, I smiled at him.

“That’s right.” I gave him a few more examples before having him solve for side a or side b.

After an hour or so, he seemed to begin to struggle as I moved to more complex topics. I rolled his desk chair closer to his bed so I could watch his process as he worked through the questions in the book. He seemed to not be grasping anything from the last ten minutes. Sighing, I moved to sit on his bed and try to guide him through the procedures. He scratched his head and placed hand absently on my knee while I looked over his answers. I didn’t pay it much mind, figuring he hadn’t noticed what he did, until his hand started moving up the inside of my thigh. “Bryce... what are you doing?” I asked him, unsure of what exactly was happening. Or rather, hoping it wasn’t what I thought it was. His hand stopped just about at the top of my thigh and he looked at me as if it was completely normal for him to be touching me like that. My heart started to speed up.

“How are my answers?” He asked, his hand creeping a little higher.

“Uh. They’re fine. Bryce. Please stop touching me.” I asked nicely hoping he would stop. He stopped moving his hand but scooted closer to me. “Bryce. I-I don’t want this. I’m not interested in you like this. And what about Chloe?” I asked him, trying to get him to stop.

I felt him grip my arm with his other hand. “She isn’t going to find out about this is she? I see the way you look at me. Are you sick of wasting your time pining after whoever you think about when you could have me instead?” He said, his voice low and slightly thick with arousal. His grip on my arm tightened as he touched me through my jeans. I tried to get away. I tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he was too strong. Years of sports had done wonders for his strength.

“Please no Bryce. Don’t do this. I don’t want this.” I begged. I tried to push him off me but as he leaned in and kissed me roughly, it felt as though my soul had left my body and I was watching the scene unfold from above me. I was completely unable to move or speak at that point. I could feel him push me down on the bed and unzip my jeans. He pulled them down, lifting my hips as he did so. He played with my underwear before taking those down too. I heard him undo his zipper and watched him pull down his jeans, stroking himself as he crawled on top of me. I closed my eyes. I felt his hands holding my hips, the feel of his hands on my body sickening me, felt him entering me over and over.

“So tight for me.” I heard him groan as he violated me. I just wanted it to stop. Why couldn’t I say anything. Why didn’t I text Montgomery and tell him I was coming here? I felt Bryce pull out and heard him finish himself on his bedspread. The bed shifted as he got up and went to go clean himself up. I laid there, frozen for what felt like an eternity. I felt myself come back and my brain started to clear. Getting up quickly I put my pants back on as fast as I could. I gathered my things before running from the house. I ran the half block to my house and burst open the door. Dropping my things at the door I ran upstairs and turned on the shower as hot as I could stand it. Taking off my clothes, sick at the sight of blood in my underwear, I threw them to the side. My face felt wet and I realized I was crying. I climbed into the shower carefully, finally noticing the pain between my legs and sat down on the tub floor. I sat there for an hour and a half sobbing and scrubbing my body, trying desperately to get the slimy feeling to go away. Even after my skin was rubbed raw, I still felt dirty. Getting out of the shower, I gathered my clothes, went to my room, and put on one of Montgomery’s shirts I had stolen from his closet and the loosest pair of bottoms I could find. Before I could think better of it, I went downstairs and grabbed the rubber gloves I used to clean with and the candle lighter. I went back to the bathroom, picked up the ruined panties, and lit them on fire before dropping them in the garbage can and watching them burn. With the underwear gone, I crawled into bed and cried myself to sleep. I hadn’t even realized Montgomery had texted me back while I was at Bryce’s to say he was feeling better and couldn’t wait to see me tomorrow.

#finding peace in another #monty imagine #monty x reader #montgomery de la cruz x oc #montgomery de la cruz #monty de la cruz #monty x oc #Bryce Walker #trigger warning #feedback please

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