#before that. and they have such complimentary designs????

[peapod20001]

Hi hello. Why am I so good at making complimentary character designs???

[justatypicalwizard]

Silk dance | Jayce

Aracne Jayce x Zaun seamstress reader

Jayce and reader have history before the Arcane plot. This story follows the second season of Arcane but loosely.

A complimentary piece to my previous story Up and Under. I was asked whether I would make a part two to it. I will rather not but I got the idea that there may be a little bit more to unpack amidst the pages of the story.

,,So, how’s it going with the girl?” Rhythmic buzzing of energy filled the air in the laboratory with a lulling symphony played by tiny machines. In the near silence Jayce Talis scribbling in his notebook posed as the only off-key element as he switched between the messy pages and a cogwheel on his workstation. Sky’s voice ruptured the melody of focus.

Jayce looked up, his eyes wide and lips slightly agape, as if the woman in the room spoke another language, one he didn’t quite understand. Sky was not looking at him, rather wiping off an oily stain from the counter. Her movement was steady, up and down, up and down, like she calculated every step she took in life.

,,I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Of course Jayce knew what she meant. At times when he was alone the man beat himself over the fact that you were near him so often. He was aware how some might view this vicinity. On the other hand, he’s a grown man, he may do as he wishes and it’s only the shortsightedness of others that makes them full of prejudice. It’s not like every high-ranked man has to have an affair with a Zaunite woman working for him.

“She’s here often.” Up and down, up and down. The counter was already clean.

“You’re here often too.”

“I work here.”

“She’s also working.”

“How so?”

“I hired her. She’s a seamstress and a designer.”

“How many fittings does one need?”

“She’s somewhat of a visioner too, like me. You should never rush your work, Sky.”

“And because of that there is a need for nearly daily meetings?”

“Sky, are you suggesting something?” Jayce turned his full body towards the woman. She finally left the counter alone, dropping the cleaning cloth on its polished surface.

“I’m sorry sir, it was very inappropriate of me.” Her shoulders slouched and she was avoiding his gaze like fire. “I’m just worried. it’s either people whispering and spreading gossip or you going to the undercity. It’s dangerous.”

“If inventors cared about whispering and gossip, there would be no progress in the world.” Jayce turned back to the cogwheel, picking it up and spinning it around in his fingers, trying to convince himself that the whole conversation was about progress and not -

Sky whispered something in the lines of that’s not what I meant but both of them decided to let the topic evaporate. A moment of silence spread between them, pushing the two even further away. If Jayce wouldn’t be so hard in his head he might have felt Sky’s gaze on his back, her pleading, longing look. Yet, he didn’t, because that’s simply who Jayce Talis was - a master in avoiding what he didn’t want to face.

“I’ll take my leave.” Sky’s voice once again rifled through the steady silence that rose to discomfort. The energy buzzing in the air felt like tension. Jayce just wanted this to end, to get back into a good mood before -

“Is anyone here?” A new, third voice entered tonight's opera.

Bad timing sweetheart. Jayce thought to himself and froze upon realising how caringly he just called you in his head. Due to that he missed the bite that Sky put on her own, tightly knit, lips.

The man turned around finally, taking in the whole of the scene. It was a true comedy-drama. Sky’s face was a mixture of disbelief and irritation while your eyes were filled with sparkles, clutching the sewing supplies and admiring the scenery around you. Jayce was right when he said you two were somehow similar, the same buzzing inside your veins when you had an idea, the same eagerness and urgency to put your hands to work. The same, slightly, crazed look when focused and the same hope for a better future.

Despite how heartless it was for anyone who could look upon the situation from outside, at that moment Jayce simply couldn’t look away from your smiling face. And he smiled back. Sky was already gone, only a quiet creak of the doors reminding she was there in the first place.

,,Should I - um.'’ you weren't sure what to say, it felt like your presence interrupted. Jayce was quick to ease the misunderstanding.

,,It's nothing. Be my guest.” He gestured for a seat next to one of the spacious counters. Grabbing a cloth scattered near his cog he whipped his hands and started undoing the buttons keeping his shirtcuffs tight.

With a smile and a shrug you began to unpack your supplies. A yellow measuring tape, pins, very sharp scissors and a variation of fabrics Jayce allowed you to buy samples of. There weren't many restrictions when it came to quality nor price. You rarely had a chance to get ahold of so many exquisite materials.

,,So.” He started eying the roll of samples you placed along the counter.

,,So?’’’ You mimicked like a little parrot.

,,Which one do you recommend?” Jayce picked up the scraps, examining the small squares as if he knew what made one another different.

,,Oh, it depends on what you're looking for.” He was just about to ask you for details but your knowing smile kept him silent. With panience unlike him, the man listened as you opened up the world of textile for him. ,,From the ones I selected silk will present itself as the most luxurious. It's soft, shiny under light, liquid like in nature but also cold.” Jayce watched you thumb the material, handing it over to him. On the peripheries the square was indeed colder but in the centre, where you held it, the silk remembered your touch. He thought that you must be warm yourself. ,,Linen is less sparkly, more manly one could say, but it has a certain unruly feel to it if you ask me. It reminds me of nature.” Manly. Jayce liked how the word danced on your lips. ,,And of course cotton is a safe option, comfortable, trustworthy and good-looking. There are also different colours in the pallette -”

Your lips were producing a number of words, some about the tones that these different variants of white may bring forward from his skin, something about how he should consider the shirt in reference to other parts of the tuxedo, and some other things. It was a long day for Jayce, he felt the tiredness and stress weigh his shoulders down when he shimmied out of his current jacket and shirt, sitting on the stool in only his undershirt. It was hard for him to focus when it was so late in the evening, the stars popping in the night sky, his mind slowly shutting down from the all-day-long struggle, your hands roaming his forearms. If he wasn't a gentleman he would close his eyes and ask you for a massage. He laughed to himself absentmindedly.

,,What's so funny?” You asked, putting hands on your hips. ,,Don't tell me you're one of the people who say they don't see different shades.”

,,Oh no, no. I definitely see a lot of colours.” Like the red of your lips and the tint of your cheeks and the tone of your hair that I thought about last night.

It was improper of him, he only proved Sky's stereotypes further. Yet, was it criminal to feel a little something for a person that smiles at you so gracefully, someone that shares your ideas at heart, another being that makes you feel comfortable. It won't hurt anyone if Jayce daydreams a bit about anything different than hextech.

,,-chandeliers.” Your voice rang in his ears, reminding him that the object of his tricky attraction was standing in front of him.

,,Once more.” With a smile he erased your slight irritation.

,,You asked me which one I recommend. While I like cotton for its usefulness I believe a ball requires something more… sophisticated. Silk will look fantastic in the lights of the chandeliers.” You repeated, giving him the evils.

,,Silk it is then. Do you think it will suit me on the dancefloor?” Jayce stood up abruptly. ,,You said you're good at imagining designs, at mapping them in your head. Then come and tell me will it suit me on the dancefloor?” He raised his hands as if to waltz. Just a little bit of flirt won't kill anyone.

With a laugh you walked around him trying to portray the seams and shapes of the soon-to-be shirt.

“I can definitely see you in something enhancing the back, something simple, with details to be left shocking.”

,,Details such as…”

,,Such as an interesting collar and buttoning at the front. Something here.” You said and pointed at his chest.

,,Mhm''. He murmured, grasping your hands, tugging you delicately where he wanted you, as if you were dancing.

,,I ope you own any accessories because an outfit without them is as good as going out naked.”

,,Naked you say.”

You stopped your slow swirling and looked at each other. In that moment Jayce Talis wished that the ball never began, that he was stuck in this moment of preparation, that he had an excuse to ask you over, that he never had to think about all the things that put your worlds apart and made this impossible. In the morning he will look Sky in the eye and feel a ting of shame, he will walk past other residents of Piltover and turn a deaf ear to their whispering, he will push himself to the limit with his work. All of this will be his payment for the moment of weakness, for allowing himself to hold you in his arms and whisper into your ear sweet little nothings.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Michael Ralph, the Good Omens Production Designer, interview for Movieweb :), summer 2023

Question: What is your reaction to your fan's positivity?

Michael Ralph: It's unbelievable. To see your work reflected in the eyes of people that love it is incredibly complimentary and it feels on, you know, you're honoured by having that response .It's rare that you get to experience it. You know, I think that we were involved recently in a fans' view of the set where all the fans who'd been involved in a competition were able to walk around the set. It's extraordinary. And I got hugs and people in tears. And it is an overwhelming experience to stand in that street and be in that bookshop when you didn't think, even though you knew, but you didn't quite know it really existed as a place that you could walk around in is quite phenomenal.

Question: Do you see locations as extensions of characters?

Michael Ralph: My feeling is that we would all, if possible, choose to live where we believe and within an environment that we believe suits us, doesn't suit anyone else. It's a fingerprint thing. It's like, where are you most comfortable? Where are you most comfortable to read or to write or to watch a programme or where do you feel the most secure?That bookshop is an anchor point visually for the show and always has been an anchor point since day one. And it is where you feel most secure. It's where the door closed, you feel safe within it. And what emanates or resonates with that bookshop, not only from the character and the position or who Aziraphale is, is that everybody that walks into that bookshop feels the same thing. Everyone that walks in that bookshop, I've said it before, just want to live upstairs and drink red wine and read books all day and they feel comfortable and they feel nostalgic and it creates a sense of security and protection. And I think that if you can create that sort of sentimentality in something that you're walking around in, it must transcend the lens. And it obviously does because people feel it all the time and they want to go there and sit around in the corner and feel comfortable. So I think that from character point of view, I started really emotionally from Aziraphale. And Neil, whenever I've thought of a great idea that I tell Neil about and he tells me how amazing it might be or how fantastic or inspired it was, I suddenly start to realise it's probably in the book or it's probably in the script between the lines. What stimulates my apophenia, what stimulates my vision and my emotional motivation to design anything is what I can see in the page. So if he has written something so universally empathetic to an audience, then I'm seeing the same thing you are, in my variation, but it really is the same warp or the same sentimentality as I said, or any of those things. So if I can find how to get my fingernails under the edge of that, how I can actually depict it, then I know that it's going to work. And that's obviously... and you can believe in it then, and you can say it with all honesty, rather than impersonate your love for something or say something because your ego tells you you should, or produce something that's a duplicate of something you saw once in Italy. This is something you've got to feel that's specific to the project and specific to the written word, you know.

Question: Do you have the freedom to do what you want?

Michael Ralph: I must admit, reading the book the first time, it was difficult to get my head around how it was going to be depicted. You've got to be very careful that you don't impersonate what you've seen before, you don't copy and then call it original when it's not, because that's sort of like a cop out. You really, honestly have to live with it 24 hours a day, even while you're asleep, and search and search and search and search to find what it is that gets your fingernails under it, to find out what it is you really believe in. And it sounds so ethereal, but it's absolutely true. If you can get that, if you can openly find that, and you've got to feel that, if you can get that, then you're absolutely on something you can invest in and then something you can produce. Because then it's not something that's duplicated. All the furniture, literally all the furniture, all of the dressing on the walls, all of the bookshelves are all built but Bronwyn, a set decorator, will buy me a lot of brown furniture that she finds as really interesting furniture. Furniture that's got spindles and handcarved pieces and reliefs in it. And she gets me stuff that she believes goes with the character of the place. And then I'll break it open. This is what construction. I love working with construction with, because I'll break it open, cut it down, reattach it, and I'll remake wholewalls and bookshelves, like in the magic shop that none of it existed until we put together loads of stuff the set decorator found, that Bronwyn found. And then all that stuff ends up having a profile of the period, or echoes to you, little visual trip hazards of the period, of size and weight. But it isn't really anything you've ever seen before. It's not from a higher shop. It's not from a piece of furniture you bought, just plunk there. Because the camera sees things differently. And we have to lift all that up and make it bigger and larger in scale to punctuate the vision. So all of that is... there's all sorts of theories, I could go on forever, you know. I was saying to Bronwyn today that I think I've been working all my life on trying to raise my intellect, to be able to incorporate a vocabulary to explain what it is I do creatively. I'm not there yet.

Question: Is there something you'd like to explore in the future?

Michael Ralph: And it's funny you should say that, because that process, from what I've explained to you, doesn't originate with me. So you need to get that book or that source material, and someone has to say, you're the guide for this, I'd love to see what you see. And then it's like this massive submerge, you submerge into it. And then it's a journey, a journey that you embrace and it reveals things that I could guess maybe 15-20 things I'd like to do on Season Three, but it's not scripted. So what is that? You know, I've got imaginary things that I will adopt because I know that they've got weight or purpose that will work for Season Three. But I need to see what Neil shows me, you know, what Neil teaches and tells me, and then once I've seen that, I can run with it. He's such a wonderful appreciator of what you achieve. He's never questioned anything I've done, ever. And it's been hundreds of things, hundreds of sets and ideas. And no matter how crazy what it is, I might end up drawing the craziest things first. But he still loves them, you know. And it feels like it probably was there already between the lines. And all I've done is pick up on it. You got to really get into it to mime what it is that affects you and what moves you. What it is you love about something. You can watch a show and read a book and not love it. You don't know why you didn't love it, it's unequatable, but you just didn't connect. But what we're trying to do with everything we do cinematically is to connect, is to somehow get through the equation. So you feel it. And I got a feeling that's why Good Omens works so well. Because of the amount of love and emotion that people put into it and amount of faith people have in what they're doing, because it's only done out of joy and it's only done for the goodness of that wonderful story that is developed and matured, within it, between the characters. And because of that, you can do nothing but sprinkle magic on it all the time.

[rwbyrg]

Can we take a moment to appreciate just how well fed we are? Both in canon and beyond?

Oscar said "woah" the moment he first met Ruby.

"Woah. You have... silver eyes". Specifically.

The scene of them sparring at sunset and being goofy about it.

They're the two youngest members of the team, and both of their main allusions are stories about growing up (The Little Prince and Little Red Riding Hood).

Oscar's main allusion is of a character that's in love with a rose. Ruby's last name is Rose, she has a rose emblem, and can turn into rose petals.

They also have shared/parallel allusions from in-universe fairytales (Ex. The Boy Who Fell From The Sky, The Girl Who Fell Through the World, and most notably, The Warrior in the Woods).

The Dojo Scene

Their shared attachments to each other keep being put in focus.

Oscar cared more about Ruby being knocked out than Weiss being impaled at Haven.

Ruby's always watching his back in fights, and he always has hers in group conflict discussions.

Neo, the illusionist character, uses Oscar as both the first and last illusion to torture Ruby; going so far as to make Ruby "kill" him with her own hands. It could have been anyone, but it WASN'T. It was OSCAR.

Meanwhile, Oscar in the V9 epilogue laments to Ruby's "grave" about how he is struggling to hold onto who he is more than ever before. In large part because of the merge, but also because Ruby "always saw people for who they really were", and she's not around anymore to help remind him of who he is.

"You're your own person."

The Almost Hug.

The song that plays leading up to The Almost Hug is one about someone pining for a love they've lost and been separated from across worlds. The song airs a few episodes before Oscar and Ruby are the only "pairing" split up between Remnant and The Ever After. The song itself is called Treasure and Ruby is a type of precious gem, while Oscar's name alludes to gold.

Oscar's last name is Pine. Which, aside from the species of tree, is defined as: "to long or yearn for the return of something; to suffer, typically from a broken heart"(please see points 12 and 15).

They have multiple paralleling arcs and themes around choice, identity, responsibility, leadership, grief, etc.

Their character designs have complimentary colour schemes like other canon ships (red/green and silver/gold).

Sun/Moon ship

"Combat gear looks good."

They also follow the same story beats, separations, and reunions that other canon ships have in show (the meet-cute, the getting-to-know-you, the breakup arc, the distance makes the heart grow fonder trope, the (upcoming) emotional reunion, etc).

The animators, writers, and even voice actors on occasion, engage with fan content or discussions of the ship in a positive manner.

The Official RWBY Twitter Oscars Meme

Miles Luna has said a few times that the ship is cute. He also highlights that their relationship is built on mutual understanding from being in similar circumstances as the youngest kids in the group with too much weight on their shoulders.

Miles also said that in a hypothetical scenario where everyone celebrates Oscar's birthday, Ruby would buy a co-op video game as a present and the two of them would stay up really late playing it together.

Rosegarden won 2nd place in a popular RWBY YouTuber's "Top 10 RWBY Ships" poll as voted by fans after Volume 8 (it would have been third place if Renora and Bumbleby hadn't tied for first).

That one video from Aaron Dismuke, Oscar's VA.

"That kid's got a collapsible staff" -heart eyes emoji-

We've gotten a "Rosegarden Moment" in every Volume premiere since Oscar's debut in V4.

Oscar shouting Ruby's name too many times in the V6 fight against Cordovin.

Maria tells Oscar to "keep that fire fed" after he overhears Ruby talking about food always making her feel better. Then a few episodes later, he suspiciously makes a casserole for the "team" after "they" had a rough day (where he stood up for Ruby when she was looking defeated in a group argument).

Oscar's the only person Ruby opened up to about her grief until the blacksmith. Meanwhile, Ruby's the one who's always assuring Oscar he's his own person despite the merge.

The parallels of Oscar's struggle with the merge and Ruby's ascension in The Ever After.

"I'm just going to be another one of his lives, aren't I?" / "What if you could be anyone?"

Characters within the narrative regularly notice how close these two are to each other. Mainly Nora, Weiss, Yang, Cinder and Neo.

Oscar blushed when Ruby touched his shoulder???

THE FUMBLE?!?!?!?

[starrysharks]

DESIGN DEEPDIVE:

OCTAVIA KRANKENSTEIN

due to popular demand, here is my first DESIGN DEEPDIVE, where i explain all my little character designs! character design is really important to me, so i hope you guys appreciate this TwT

this deepdive goes over octavia krankenstein, the main character of my series reassassination. firstly, we'll go over shapes and color pallete, the first things you notice when looking at most character designs.

when it comes to octavia's shapes, we can see that she's primarily made of squares and triangles. this establishes two things about her right off the bat:

- she's sharp, and personality wise, probably dangerous and active.

- she's strong, and possibly stubborn.

however, a detail that i want to point out is octavia's singular circle, in the form of a button on her dress under perfect pendant. i've added this button to indicate that behind the sharp, tough exterior, octavia has some empathetic traits. the location of the button is also important, being at the heart. (this exerpt is from my own personal factfile for octavia):

"...Octavia is a particularly self-contradictory character - while she's apathetic to the idea of killing, she can't stand the idea of harming innocents - meaning she often feels the need to justify her homicidal tendencies."

the color pallete of octavia is also important. as you can see above, she's made up of two colors and a tone - black, scarlet, and seafoam green. i want to focus on black and scarlet here.

when it comes to black, i think it's an interesting color both technically and in terms of character. black was used to give octavia's design the vibe of an executioner or medieval assassin. it blends into the night, and hides bloodstains, so it makes sense for octavia to wear it as an assassin. however, this is juxtaposed by flashy red details, which indicate several things about octaiva -

- she cares a lot about fashion and the way she looks, even if it isn't functional. the style of clothing that octavia wears is heavily inspired by 2000s "mallgoth" and the general nu-metal scene, which was often red and black clothing. (cybergoth was also a small inspiration!)

- octavia is a character with a lot of freedom. this might seem like a stretch, but in color language, red indicates action, confidence, danger, passion, and power, along many other things. in canon, octavia's dress was given to her by another character (dr. krankenstein) completely black, and then octavia edited the dress herself to include red details. this on its own might seem like nothing, but the thing about octavia is that her design is complimentary to another character's; vivica de la crux.

vivica is a character who wants freedom, but has next to none, to say the least. therefore, her "red" qualities (passion, freedom, etc), are stifled, so she has very little red in her design compared to octavia. side by side, you can see that their designs have a strong contrast in this regard.

- and lastly, octavia is vulnerable in that she wears so much of her personality literally on her sleeve. while octavia may seem stoic and mysterious in terms of character, and possesses strong physical strength, she lacks social awareness and struggles in that regard, being a social outcast within the story.

alright, now it's time to go over body type, hair and outfit! these are all pretty important in my opinion.

firstly, body type. octavia's heavily exaggerated thinness which is actually inspired by that "scene kid" artstyle that you've probably seen before, and 90s/2000s cartoons and comics in general (SPECIFICALLY the art of jhonen vasquez, who made invader zim and JTHM)!

of course, octavia's hair gives her design more depth and volume, and a strong silhouette - one resembling a ghost or spiky monster. as you can see in her ref sheet, there are 3 spiked ends on either side of the hair. in fact, there are a lot of matching pairs of threes in octavia's design, aren't there?

- three bottom eyelashes on either eye - 6 in total

- three bows on either boot - 6 in total

- and of course, three hair spikes on either side - 6 in total.

that's right! octavia's design hides a secret 666, which relates to her alternative name - experiment-666 - and the fact that she's literally seen as a demon to the clear crucifix org, the antagonists of the story.

but let's look at octavia's outfit entirely. or maybe not? the thing about octavia's design is that i wanted it to be one where you could deform and modify it in various ways, and no matter how many details you remove, it's still clearly octavia. kind of like hatsune miku!

in the end, octavia is supposed to feel like a character from the 2000s, rather than just one based off of 2000s alternative culture. i don't know if i really succeeded with that, but i'm still proud of her design regardless. if you read all of this ramble to the end, thank you so much! i might do more design deepdives for other characters if people are interested. you can even request specific characters of mine if you'd like!

[saturnville]

all yours, jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x black fem oc (adeba malina). warnings: sexual insinuations. song: all yours by normani an: I don’t remember the last time I wrote a one-shot this long. and I came out of football retirement for this, so let me know how you like it! 🫶🏾 also, can anyone guess what position I played? 👀

“I don’t have an interest in pursuing a relationship with Jude. He’s a great guy but…”

Jude Bellingham, the world’s wonder boy, had become a staple in her life over the last few months following his multi-million dollar transfer to Real Madrid, but not for the reasons that people thought. They met during a dinner celebrating his transfer and hit it off immediately.

“Congratulations,” she said cooly and sat next to the young footballer. When her voice registered in his ears and her face came into view, his eyes grew wide and he looked like a child in a candy store. “I’m Adeba Malina.”

She needed no introduction. He knew exactly who she was. Former Madridista turned business-woman. She was known as one of the greatest center midfielders of her time; her speed, agility, and vision for a pathway to the goalbox were praised by the highest of heavens. Ronaldo’s protege and a Madrid icon. Adeba Malina was a football legend.

“Jude.” His hand engulfed hers as he shook it firmly yet delicately. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

Adeba pushed a strand of hair away from her face and nodded once, taking in the footballer with a quick sweep of her eyes. He wore a crisp black suit with a complimentary black tie against the freshly pressed white shirt. He was handsome, but she didn’t let her mind go past that. Rather she said, “I trust you’ll do big things with Los Blancos. I’m excited to see what you do on the pitch.”

He was bashful, she noticed, his brown skin suddenly growing red and a small smile on his lips, “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

“No problem at all. You enjoy your dinner, but a piece of advice, if I may.” Jude sat up intently. Adeba leaned over, her lips close to his ear as she tried to speak over the rowdy individuals around her. “You have nothing to prove to anyone. You’re young, gifted, and Black. They’ll do and say anything to make you look bad and to get in your head. Perfect your craft, do your best, and keep moving. There’s nothing to prove.”

Jude met her eyes for the first time that night. The prettiest shade of brown with specks of caramel. They held care and intentionality, just like the words she spoke, and he digested them like his favorite food. It was at that moment that Jude knew she’d be a good person in his life.

“But what?”

Adeba cursed to herself as she sorted through her jerseys for one to wear. Zizou. Ramos. Varane. Ronaldo. Beckham. Rodríguez. Malina. Bellingham. She snatched it off the hangar and onto her bed behind her. It would make do, and it would be cute with her newest navy blue heels and straight-leg jeans. “But,” she started after some time. “He’s younger than me and we’re just friends.”

The woman behind her scoffed audibly. “He’s barely 3 years younger than you, not 12. And you just went through 6 jerseys, knowing you have kits dating back to the 90s, including your own, to wear his, as you do for almost every home match. Don’t play with me.” And there it was. The bluntness and honesty of Colombia’s very own Dawn Nalinja, data analyst turned interior designer.

The two crossed paths at an event in Barcelona four years prior and had been inseparable ever since. So much so that their homes were in the same building, four floors apart. They were quite literally, two peas in a pod.

Adeba sighed and began getting dressed for the match against Dortmund. “Look, I just don’t think every friendship needs to transition to a relationship. Jude is good people and you don’t have to have to romanticize everything with good people.”

Dawn blinked, one, two, three times before sighing. “While that may be true, it’s best to romanticize aspects of your life with a good person, especially before they get swiped by someone else. You won’t know until you give it a try and that goes for anyone, not just Jude. But, we’ll leave that there. Are you ready?”

Adeba slid her feet into her shoes, fluffed her braids, and swiped her purse off the bed. She ignored the feeling within her chest and smiled softly as she tried not to think too hard on what Dawn had mentioned. “Ready!”

-

And as predicted, Los Blancos took the victory. Adeba always adored the energy of the stadium during victories, no matter who won. There was joy in seeing fans jump for joy, holler the chants of their favorite players, and take pictures with the players who’d walked by.

By the end of the match, Dawn had scurried off with her significant other, leaving Adeba to wait in the tunnel for Jude as she typically would.

She tapped her fingers against the wall as she waited for his exit, and when he came into view, the smile she didn’t realize she had on her face widened. “Hey, champ.”

Jude welcomed the greeting and returned it with a hug and a kiss against her cheek. Adeba felt warm as his arm circled around her waist and his fingers brushed against the loops of her jeans. Dangerous territories. “Thank you, Dee. What’re you doing after?”

Adeba shrugged as she stepped back to put distance between them, but it still hadn’t forced his hand to drop from her waist. If anything, it made his grip tighter. She ignored the pulsing between her thighs and said, “I planned to go home.” Her bed was always a wonderful place to be.

Jude nodded once. “Want to come to dinner with me? Not in the mood to party, but I could eat.”

Her head turned to the side and her braids swayed with it. “Just us?” The corner of Jude’s lips rose in amusement at her question. He couldn’t recall a time when them being alone mattered so much before, but with the way her breath quickened, he knew it was deeper than what she let on.

Adeba grew nervous underneath his gaze. His brown eyes were focused on her. How had she not realized how pretty they were? A rich shade of mahogany, a portal to a place unknown.

She exhaled shakily. He answered her question: “Just us.”

-

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adebamalina. hala madrid y nada más. congratulación a los blancos para la victoria 🤍 ft the wonder boy himself

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— adebamalina thank you honey

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judebellingham 🤍🤍🤍 always grateful for your support

— adebamalina so proud of you.

username. just get tg alr

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username. I know yall saw Jude like her comment!

username. the prettiest wag out!

-- username. girl, she’s not a wag. just a rm legend

-- username. she’s always with jude, so she might as well be. two for one special atp

-- judebellingham liked your comment!

username. real madrid legends fr

— adebamalina and judebellingham liked your comment!

georginagio we still need to have our shopping date!!

— adebamalina I’ll book a flight in a few weeks! and tell Cris and the kids I said hello!

username. okay but fr when are they getting tg?

— saturnville girl idk I haven’t thought that far yet

-

“Stay with me tonight.”

If Adeba lived in an animated world, she would have heard her feet squeal like brakes when she stopped suddenly. She turned slowly to see Jude standing with one hand in his pocket while the other held her blue heels, a straight look on his face. “As in…?” Adeba pushed for further explanation. Sure, they’d hung out before at each other’s places and in other public spaces, but his words hinted at something more.

“Movies, snacks, and I’ll whoop your ass in Uno. Just something chill. I just…didn’t want the night to end this early.”

Adeba sighed heavily. She wanted to deny him. To tell him that wasn’t a line that needed to be crossed. That she was nothing more than a friend, a mentor in a way, to push him to be his best self in his professional and personal life, but how could she? With the way he looked down on her and not in a condemning way. But with a look of adoration. His eyebrows were relaxed and his eyes were soft. His body language spoke of comfortability in her presence with how his shoulders were low and slightly rounded above her body. Like a guard.

She wanted to tell him she’d go home, that she didn’t want to blur any lines. She wanted to admit that she had no feelings for him at all, but then she’d be lying, and one thing Adeba Malina hated was a liar.

Adeba pondered on it longer. Her teeth captured her bottom lip as her mind worked to weigh the pros and the cons. They were friends, just friends. Friends who were potentially spending the night together…alone. With any other guy friend, the idea would have repulsed her. But when it came to Jude, something within her sparked with curiosity at the idea of staying the night with him.

Maybe Dawn was right. If everything aligned, would it be worth a try?

Adeba finally met his eyes again and nodded. “Okay.”

-

“You started playing at 17 for Real. Is that how you met Cristiano?” Jude asked inquisitively and passed the bag of candy to Adeba, who sat on her knees in front of him. She nodded and popped a few Nerds in her mouth.

“Correct. The men’s team came to visit the women’s practice and of course, we’re football fanatics just like you, so having these legends visit us and give us advice was amazing. Cris always gave me good advice, especially being that we both came from nothing. So, I try to pour into you what he and many others pour into me.”

Jude couldn’t help but smile. From what she’d shared, she was Ghana-born and raised in Spain once her parents moved at the age of five. She couldn’t take much with her when traveling to Europe, but what she did take was a soccer ball her father had gotten her, which she kept in a glass case in her jersey closet. Growing up she didn’t have much, but she had her ball, and that was enough for her.

What she didn’t know was that the ball would grant her and her siblings an education, her parents a home, and her family stability that would continue even when she left the Earth. Football saved her in more ways than one. She understood what it was like to fall in love with it and she also understood the challenges that came with it. And that was what she enjoyed sharing with others. The journey of loving the game.

“I appreciate that,” he replied. There was a silence between them, a comfortable one. “I still can’t believe you kicked my ass four times.” His tone was teasing, she knew, but she could hear a hint of seriousness. She shrugged and smiled.

“A torn ACL took me out the game, but you can never take the game out of me, baby. I do this.” It was his turn to get flustered. Baby. It was a casual pet name and he knew she meant nothing by it but he wanted to hear it over and over.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied with a wave of his hand. “I’ll get you back eventually.”

Adeba’s eyebrow raised, “Is this a challenge, Mr. Bellingham?” His eyes met hers. There was a glint of mischief behind her which displayed her fun and teasing nature. But, behind the mischief, her eyes grew darker and the smirk on her lips grew wider, especially as he began to visibly crumble under her gaze.

“Maybe,” was all he could get out.”Guess you’ll have to find out.”

And there it was. The ambiguous statement that left the two of them wondering what the other meant. But she knew. He knew. It was his comment that seemed to shorten the invisible string between them that seemed to wrap around the world. Suddenly, it was just inches long andt the only thing that kept their bodies from pressing against one another’s in a heated exchange of passion.

“Is that so?” Adeba’s tongue circled around her cheek, a subtle action that left Jude’s stomach clenching. He nodded.

The space between them continued to dwindle. They were once separated by the middle cushion of the couch, but now, they could feel the warmth from each other’s breath fanning against their faces. Jude, making the first move, brought his hand to her bare face, fingers caressing her skin. She was so beautiful. Rich complexion with beauty marks and faded acne scars that added to her uniqueness. Her lips were so full. His thumb drummed against them. “Pretty girl…”

Her eyes fluttered closed. “Please…”

Before she could say anything else, his mouth was on hers. Adeba felt her inhibitions slip away as their lips moved together. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of kissing him and what it’d be like. She expected something sweet. Nah, this was a grown kiss. Passionate and intense, borderline sloppy and nasty. Exactly how she liked it.

Adeba couldn’t remember how she ended up on her back with her bare legs around his waist as he kissed and sucked along the skin of her neck, but she chose not to think of it too much. She refused to be the reason why the moment was ruined.

Jude enjoyed every moment. From feeling her legs tense around his waist and shuddering as her manicured nails snuck under his shirt to trail along his abdomen to hearing her whisper his name so delicately. Jude. She drove him insane.

But, as much as he wanted to keep going, he knew she deserved more than a heated makeout on his couch at two in the morning with no clear expression of his feelings. So, he broke away from her, which was met with a very cute yet very confused expression on her face. “What’s wrong?”

Jude smiled and shook his head. He used his thumb to wipe the corners of her mouth which were damp from their heated exchange. “Nothing, I just…I like you a lot. In a more than friends way and I think you should know that before anything else happens. It’s only right.” Adeba’s eyes sparkled at his comment. “And…I’d like to take you out. On a real date. Just us. Then maybe, if you’re up to it, we can see how far this goes.”

Adeba smiled. “I’d like that.”

Damn it, Dawn.

-

6 months later…

liked by judebellingham, normani, justinskye, and 342,890 others

adebamalina my man, my man, my man

view 18,073 comments

dawnnalinjaaaa finally!!!! y’all were pissing me off

-- adebamalina yeah yeah yeah

cristiano ❤️

adebamalina liked your comment!

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normani so so so happy for you honey

georginagio double date!!!

username okay hard launch

judefanpage I’m glad he cuffed her before I did

-- username you’re so real for this

-

“Baby, we’ve got somewhere to beeee.” Adeba’s words were dragged out as she grew distracted by his lips against her neck and his front pressed against her back. “Jude…”

He hummed softly, massaging her hips as she struggled to finish the finishing touches on her makeup. They had a date to celebrate their six month anniversary but it seemed as though Jude wasn’t in a hurry to make it to their reservation on time. “You look pretty, love. Pretty and all mine.”

All yours, she replied. Jude’s eyes swept across her body. Adeba looked stunning. She wore a red dress that flowed every step she took. Her hair was curly, her makeup was bright and beautiful, and of course, her full lips were just begging to be kissed.

“Thank you,” she said, dropping her makeup products down. She turned in his arms and smiled. Her hands were against his chest and she soothed his suit jacket with her palms. “You look very handsome as always. Let’s go.”

Adeba took a step back to go find her heels and purse, but was stopped by his lips on hers. Jude swallowed every moan she released and allowed it to fuel the fire that burned within him. She circled her arm around his neck as their kiss intensified. She’d never get enough of this.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her lips.

Adeba smiled. “I love you too.”

[directdogman]

Commenting on DT fan OCs!

Alright, I'mma take a look at some DT fan OCs! I've been sent quite a few, so I'll try to keep my comments for each one short 'n' sweet!

great name, snappy dresser. diggin' the bowtie! the pins are also a fun accessory!

Another snappy dresser! Tied well to an existing location in-game and the idea to explain the stickers is cute! attire is unique/memorable and the blues/browns compliment each other well. solid design. I do appreciate him!

Yo, this guy was in the last one! what is this, a crossover episode???

the bandage on side of face is a nice touch! digging the pinstripe pants too! graveyard shift at a convenience store is also quite an authentic job for a DT side character to have too! very nicely done.

Solid OC! well-drawn, unique job and her fit's stylish (it probably goes without saying that i'm a sucker for TV heads with dogs on them. that's gotta be a given, right?) The stickers on the back of the head are also a nice addition! well done!

Stanley's a real cad, huh? pizza delivery guy with a novelty pizza phone head is genius - making him flirt with milves on the job is just inspired though. i almost wish i'd come up with this guy, as i can totally imagine people around town talking about him. excellent job!!!

he's aptly named for an arcade dude! dig the fit too, especially the black + purple fingerless long sleeve gloves! the decals on the phone are neat too!

I approve of his activities but the lack of a visible mouth threw me off, since i've seen these old toy phones before, ofc.

i was about to ask "how does he drink ocean water without a mouth", before realizing that id been bamboozled into asking the fandom-favourite question of: 'how does he eat without a mouth?', only to then remember that practically no DT characters have visible mouths.

i hope you know that you've strained my weary brain today. cool OC, though.

banana phone's a fun concept! also, i must say your username's quite fitting. crept up on me from my peripheral as I gazed upon the banana phone, like a bizarre centipede of some sort. well, i'd assume so. in hindsight, most centipedes i've encountered have been pretty straightforward with me. i guess i should be grateful for that.

i like mary's fuzzy phone matching the trim of her dress but martin's really got my attention. cool name, neat quirk (he kills people, that takes moxie. hell, even pizzaz too, dare i say?) The dial being a lil clock is a neat touch since it ties his interest into the design. also quite like the cord tail matching the phone head's colour. solid design!

i like his head-type and the attire/pale skin gives a nice bit of contrast!

hard to say how randy'd feel about him, as someone who's only seen his design and 2 lines of dialogue (as someone's personality dictates randy's opinion on them far more than their appearance.) if you feel they'd get on though, you're probably correct! (randy isn't too picky, after all!)

Funnily enough, one of the earliest sketches for crown has a similar bolted plate stuck to a mostly intact phone head. it was even sticking from one of the sides. or corners. i'd have to dig up the notebook, as it's been like 4 years since I came up with the character. Sorry, just made me remember since the earliest sketches had one too.

Copper phone head's a neat idea. Contrasts well with his attire as well (nice and complimentary.) if only his attempts to deter jesse from the za worked out as well, eh?

Alright, that's it for me! thanks for the submissions, these were real creative! good job, everyone!

[saintvainglorious]

My First Fanbind! A Black Sails Fic Anthology Series

It took me a year (and a lot of anxious research) before I worked up the courage to bookbind fanfiction, and after months of on-again-off-again work, my first fanbind is finally done!

I knew that if I was going to bookbind fic, I had to bind something from the Black Sails fandom, aka the fandom and show that have had the biggest impact on my life. Y'all, I almost went into academia to study slavery in the 17th-18th century Caribbean because of this show - when folks say this show rewires your brain chemistry, they are NOT kidding. THEE show of all time. Happy 10th anniversary to Black Sails! This fandom is small but mighty. May we continue to get our hearts and souls blasted to smithereens by this show for many years to come.

Ao3 abounds with magnificent Black Sails oneshots, so I decided to put together an anthology of my favorite Silverflint fics under 20k, which I split into two volumes. Included are works by @justlikeeddie, @vowel-in-thug, @balloonstand, @annevbonny, @francisthegreat, @nysscientia, and more! Thank you, thank you all, you brilliant wonderful people, for gracing the Internet with such amazing writing. When I read the fics in these anthologies I want to fling myself into the sun.

More on the design and binding process below the cut!

Vol. 1 Page Count: 270 (12 fics) Vol. 2 Page Count: 248 (11 fics) Body Font: Sabon Next LT (10.5 pt) Title Font: Goudy Old Style Other Fonts: IM Fell English, pirates pw

The typeset (which I did in Word) took a while, mainly because I'd never done it before. Manually adjusting the hyphenation line-by-line was especially tedious. After making these books, I abandoned Word in favor of InDesign, in large part because InDesign gives you way finer control over your justification and hyphenation settings.

Regarding my actual design choices, I'm happy with how the ocean motif on the title page turned out (it's not the same pattern as my endpapers, but they're complimentary) and I'm very fond of my divider dingbats, which are little swords! Goudy Old Style was a fun title font to use, since it's the font that Black Sails uses as its logo. The stories in Vol. 1 are divided into parts based on what Silver WAS at that point in the show (cook, quartermaster, or king), and Vol. 2 is split up into comedies, histories (AUs set in the canon universe) and tragedies - befitting Black Sails' Shakespearean ~vibes~.

I stuck to a flatback binding, as I wasn't feeling quite ambitious enough to try rounding and/or backing. I've learned that I ~Anakin Skywalker voice~ hate sanding, enjoy folding/sewing, and don't LIKE edge trimming but enjoy the results enough to make it worth it.

The real adventure was decorating the cover, which remained bare for months. After agonizing over Illustrator and experimenting unsuccessfully with HTV and lokta paper embossing, I ultimately turned to using stencil vinyl to paint on the designs. There was a bit of seepage under some of the stencils, but I was able to scrape off the excess with my Cricut weeding tool without damaging the coated surface of the bookcloth (probably Arrestox Blue Ribbon from Hollander's). Even though it was very time-consuming, I'm so happy with the end result of the stenciled paint job and I intend to stick with stencils for my foreseeable future binds.

Are there things I would change? Sure. It was humid out when I printed, so the pages have got a wave. There’s an extra two pages in Vol 2. that I have no idea how I missed, and I got a line of glue in the middle of one of my Vol. 2 endpapers. I’m pretty sure I didn’t case in quite right, since my endpapers pull away from the case at the spine. I think the inner margins are a bit too big, and despite going line-by-line there’s still some wacky justification spacing in the typeset. But man, am I proud of these books! It is so satisfying to learn a new skill - MANY new skills, if we’re being honest - and to make something both beautiful and practical. If I’m still binding in two years or so, I can see myself redoing the typeset in InDesign, cutting out the existing text block, and reusing the cases. I’m also already planning for Vol. 3, which will be Silverflint Modern AUs.

Thanks for reading!

[arkangelo-7]

Okay, but, what types of water bottles do the Bats use?

Bruce uses a Yeti. It’s sturdy, reliable, and hasn’t dented once in the past 15 years, which is quite the accomplishment, given how many explosions that thing has been caught in. Back when Dick was like 10 and still Robin, he gifted Bruce the aforementioned Yeti with a sticker that had “#1 Boss!” printed on it. (It’s been nearly two decades and a day has yet to go by where Bruce doesn’t use it). Sometimes, he brings it to Justice League meetings just to throw people off guard.

If you think Dick Grayson doesn’t carry around a half-gallon jug of water, then you’re wrong. It’s bright blue and covered with stickers from all the places he’s traveled (including that one planet from that one mission the Titans refuse to speak about). Bruce has lectured him about the importance of hydration so many times over the years, that’s it’s ingrained in him to finish at least two refills before going on patrol. He also says “hydrate or die-drate” and quotes hydration statistics to anyone that tries to ask why he drinks so much water.

Jason is the type of person to have like five boxes of those plastic Ozarka water bottles stacked in his pantry. Damian berates him for his ostentatious use of plastic, but Jason grew up in a world where clean water was never a given. Now, it’s not something he needs to worry about—he’s got money, power, influence. But old habits die hard and he can’t go to sleep unless he knows he has a reliable source of water somewhere in his safe house.

Tim got a hydroflask back when they were popular in 2019 and just never bothered to upgrade. He doesn’t actually keep water in it, through; he’s got a rotating system of Diet Coke, black coffee, Celsius BCAA, and a synthetic energy drink he designed himself (one which Bruce would 100% forbid him from drinking if he knew about it).

Cass… drinks water. It’s just, no one has ever actually seen her with a water bottle, so to speak. They’ll be on a mission, or patrol, or a stakeout, and a full on plastic cup (usually with some sort of animated character or football team plastered on it) will just materialize out of nowhere. No one knows where she keeps them. No one knows where she even got them.

Steph (plus Barbra) uses a Stanley Cup. Although she first invested in it somewhat ironically, she’s grown to appreciate its functionality. It fits in her car’s cup holders, it’s easy to carry around when she’s at school, and she once used it to knock out the Riddler when he tried to abduct her principal at a pep rally. She and Babs both already pre-ordered the purple, LoveShackFancy special addition and guilt tripped Bruce into getting a matching one with them.

Damian uses some weird, eco-friendly water bottle brand that no one has ever heard of. (It’s expensive, but it comes with a complimentary metal straw, naturally). Dick thinks his seriousness about his carbon footprint is adorable; Jason thinks it’s fun to tease him, so he got him a Bubble Guppies sippy cup as a gag-gift for Earth Day back in 2020. He lost the tip of his left ring finger by the time Bruce and Dick were able to drag Damian off of him.

And then there’s Alfred. No one’s actually sure if he needs water in the first place, because no one’s actually seen him drink anything other than tea. Dick claims that he saw Alfred using one of those green, squeezey Gatorade bottles back when he was still Robin, but no one believes him.

[home-sweet-hive]

ALTERNATE HUMANITY A Field Guide to "Humanity Removal Therapy"

Part 1: Introductions

This is a complimentary series to this system's other Animal HRT series; Black Arms HRT

This story is NOT written by the system's host, Aikshlin (🌹). To keep with the mystery of the story itself, the author of this story has chosen to simply go by "Penpal" (🖋) for the time being.

WARNING: This story currently contains Swearing, Mild Mentions of Death, Implied Reincarnation, and a perhaps Untrustworthy Narrator

[The Beginning (You are here!)] [Next (Coming Soon)]

Somewhere within a city left a mystery to most, there lives a peculiar scientist by the name of Doctor Theodore H. Erian, who is known by a select group of individuals for providing an experimental treatment to anyone across the dimensional planes willing to take it. ‘Animal HRT’, they call it, though it is more professionally understood as ‘Humanity Removal Therapy’; a medical miracle designed to change someone into a completely different species.

Despite its colloquial name, this treatment is not limited to just animals, nor is it limited to species commonly considered as ‘real’. Creatures of fantasy, creatures of folklore, and even creatures from modern fictional media have been achieved from this incredible treatment.

With a power so great, it was only a matter of time until that power, that medicine, fell into the wrong hands. Some would argue that Doctor Erian’s hands were already the wrong hands. Others would point to other doctors not affiliated with Doctor Erian, giving out “back alley treatments” as Erian himself would call them. 

But there are a select few that say that the true danger lies within the patients themselves.

After all, despite Doctor Erian’s claims that he asks each patient to spend at least 48 months as their desired species, it has been found that it is scarily easy for these patients to just lie and get what they want at a moment’s notice.

The city where Doctor Erian works, only known as ‘Hyper City’, is said to be a crossroads between dimensions. A place that anyone from any reality can access if they have knowledge of it, and a place where theoretically one could travel to any reality from as well. With such widespread access to this strange location, it was only a matter of time before someone with questionable motives came across its existence.

And with it, the existence of ‘Humanity Removal Therapy’ as well.

Somewhere within the computer of Doctor Erian, there exists a copy of a set of journal entries. And elsewhere on that same computer, there exists an email sent to him by a concerned citizen of “who-knows-what” planet of the “who-knows-where” dimension (his words) – several, in fact. 

Doctor Erian was dismissive of the message at first, regarding it as either something already addressed or simply an attempt at ‘trolling’. 

But once he saw the entries included in the email, he saw the situation unfolding just under his nose to be quite the troubling one.

And perhaps you will too.

---

January 8th, 2025

Today was a short day at the station, or at least it was for me. A sudden and rather heavy snowstorm is supposed to hit the area tonight (??? Yeah of course it's sudden how the hell are we getting snow???), so all attention is given to our meteorologist for today’s broadcast. 

Not that I’m complaining, of course. The less labour I have to endure, the better.

But either way, this leaves me with a lot of free time on my hands. Originally I was going to make use of that time by heading down to the entertainment department to see how A████’s work was coming along, but as I got up and started to head over to his desk, I noticed that they were, in fact, already here within my area, talking to another member of the news crew as the two of them sipped on bottles of water from the work cooler.

“... Can’t seriously be real,” I recall having picked up on the tail end of a sentence from A████, spoken in disbelief.

“I went there! It’s real!” The other guy insisted. I had inferred from those words that they must have been talking about a location of some kind.

“Well then explain to me why I’ve never seen this ‘Hyper City’ on a map anywhere,” A████ had inquired of his peer. 

“Oh yeah, that. I think a local told me that it’s a sort of realm between dimensions? So you can get there from wherever, so long as it’s your intention to get there!” The other guy tried to explain himself, but it only seemed to make A████ even more skeptical.

“Yeah, you’re making this shit up,” It scoffed, ready to take off elsewhere.

But before he could, I inserted myself into the conversation. I couldn’t help it, I was horribly curious. Something had beckoned me to get to know as much as I could on this strange topic the two were speaking of.

But what else is new?

A████ was pretty happy to see me, usually is, so he was more than happy to give me the details. Though, part of me suspected that part of it was A████ being forced to do the ‘honors’, since the other guy seemed to be a starstruck newbie and/or low level that completely froze at the sight of me. 

According to A████, he and the new guy were talking about some fantastical town called “Hyper City” that can access any and every dimension and world and that is filled with humanoid animal beings. Yeah, can’t blame A████, that is pretty out there. 

But I have seen stranger, experienced stranger. Despite our closeness, A████’s pretty new to what we do here as well. Kiddo’s still on their first life and everything. So while I can’t blame it for not believing the story, I also don’t agree with it. 

Without even thinking about it, an order for the two of them to go out to this ‘Hyper City’ and retrieve a souvenir from there slipped out from my lips. I only realized I had said it when A████ questioned if we should run that plan past the Big Bear first.

Whether I had just forgotten to think before I spoke or if it was something deeper than that I never really cared to look into, to be honest. Makes no difference to me.

But yeah, I should probably get to writing that email to D████. I still have a lot left to get done before I go about kicking another bucket, you know?

> What’s this about you dying now? It is much too early for that.

Oh, hey babe! Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. Just a little joke, LOL.

> Good. Make sure it stays that way.

Sigh. Only you would threaten me to not die. <3

By the way, why are you in my notes?

> Nearly 35 years, and you’re only asking that now? You really are a dumbass.

“Why”, not “how”. Who’s the dumbass now?

> You never hesitate to make use of your special privileges, do you? 

> But to answer your question, I must remind you that you have a meeting with S████ and Doctor K████ at eight o’clock.

Oh shit that’s right! Thanks hun.

Now I really should get to that email, huh-?

> Yes.

Remind me to update this document with the results of the little chase I’ve sent A████ and that other guy on.

> As if you even need to ask me. Your “inspiration” will surely beat me to the chase. 100%.

Love you too. 

---

January 9th, 2025

The storm came just as strongly as predicted, leaving us with a couple inches of snow  on the ground. 

I honestly couldn't believe it. Snow? This far south? I'll be honest, when I wrote that part down yesterday I thought it was some sort of joke. But the current way the world's been going has left the weather all sorts of fucked up.

Despite the nearly once in a lifetime experience going on outside, I had stuck to my usual morning routine of getting ready to go to work. Sure, it may be unusually cold out today, but I always wear at least two layers of clothes anyways. 

But apparently I was taken off of the work schedule for today regardless. 

On record they wrote that it was because I live too far out from the station, and they didn't want me driving across town. But honestly, I just think they're pampering me. 

I can't tell if that thought makes me feel flattered or insulted.

And A████ laughing about it when I called him earlier didn't help me decide, either. Yeah, of course this is typical for his hometown back in New York, but we certainly aren't up there, are we?

But either way, that means that instead of going to work and getting to report about the first snowfall I've ever gotten to see, I'm relegated to just writing a follow-up to what I was talking about yesterday.

I did actually get an email back from Mr D████, like pretty much right after I sent him my message! I know, pretty surprising, right? The old man usually takes like a week to respond to any emails sent to him at the earliest.

But apparently he had already heard about this ‘Hyper City’ place. Didn't know about the weird dimension part of it though, only knew it as a place S████ had told him and everyone else about wanting to take a vacation to. 

Suffice to say, that was a pretty interesting bit of information to have with me during that meeting with her and E████ K████.

Speaking of, here's an excerpt from that meeting, recounted to the best of my ability. Why? S████ brings up something pretty interesting about Hyper City, I think. Also, because I was told to.

–

“Oh, just so you know, I'm gonna be going on a bit of a vacation next week. So don't count on me being available during that time, okay~?” 

“I'm aware.”

“Wait, what??” 

“Care to explain how, L████?”

“Heh, sure!”

“But first, what if I told you that I also know where it is you plan to go?” 

“That'd be…”

“That'd be so cool!!” 

“S████, you're planning a vacation to Hyper City, right?” 

“Yeah!! How'd you know?” 

“Well, you see, it seems you're not the only one around here who knows of that strange place.”

–

I then proceeded to explain to S████ the conversation I had inserted myself into yesterday.

It was her response to this explanation of mine that had truly captured my attention.

–

“Well I definitely hope it's real!! I'm traveling out there in the hopes of getting my hands on some Cat HRT!” 

“... Cat HRT? Like… Hormones for… cats???”

“Not quite! Apparently, it's HRT that’s supposed to turn you into a cat!”

“And before you ask how I'm gonna still do my duties while being a cat – you can apparently stop before a certain point and you'll stay an anthropomorphic animal rather than going full feral! The ‘crossroads’, I think it was called?” 

“... I'm putting you into the souvenir venture group as well. If it's alright with E████, I'd like for you to join A████ and B████ in their expedition, and for your souvenir to be that ‘Cat HRT’ you so desire.”

“Well who would I be to defy that decree?”

“Can do!!”

–

And after that, we moved on to other topics of discussion.

But you can see why what she said interested me, right?

> Once more, you are not beating the ‘catboy’ allegations.

THE CAT PART IS NOT WHY I'M INTRIGUED, YOU CALCULATOR.

> Surely.

> Allow me to predict what you are about to type; It is the general idea of transforming the human body into something it was ‘not supposed to be’, yes?

Pretty much, yeah.

Turning into a cat is cool and all, but I think this technology could go to a much more important use if we got a hold of it, wouldn't you agree?

> Certainly.

I think I need to put these notes - starting with yesterday's - into a document of their own. I have a feeling that this may grow into a story of its own at some point.

So I'm going to do that now.

---

January 18th, 2025

After giving out today’s report, I was called to the break room to have a bit of a chat. That much isn’t too unusual, happens to me a lot. What can I say, people wanna hear what I have to say!

What was unusual was that it was E████ of all people who had requested my presence.

When we met up just outside the break room, I had asked them what they were doing here – why they were not back at their lab like usual.

To that they had just a simple response. 

–

“Whenever there’s something I need to tell you, or anyone else that works here at the station, I usually send S████ out to deliver the message for me. But since now S████ has something she must say to you, but is… scared to, I figured I’d play fair and do the honors for kit.”

–

I understood their words quite well, but I was a bit surprised to hear that S████ would be scared to tell me something. 

I had a feeling it had something to do with the ‘Cat HRT’ thing, but she does know that I wouldn’t be mad at her if things fell through just this once… right?

Well, if not, then I should set the record straight and make it clear that she’s okay – that’s what I figured at the time.

So I asked E████ outright if S████ had failed to obtain the ‘Cat HRT’.

She had.

Apparently, the doctor that gives that stuff out over in Hyper City is a strict one, making the people who come to him to jump through so many hoops just to start treatment that it makes us look like a free-for-all. The current supporting claim for this is that ‘Animal HRT’ is still experimental, so it’s ‘best practice’ to limit the amount of people who can have it.

What a load of bullshit, whatever happened to unleashing a substance into a small town to roam free so you can see what happens?

> Hah.

<33

But anyways, once I had that explanation from E████, I made my way inside the break room where S████, as well as A████ and B████, were waiting for me.

A████ stood at the front of the group, confidently holding his souvenir – a branded pen from the Hyper City Municipal Zoo.

B████ stood just off to the side of A████, looking a bit less confident in my presence. In his hands he held a printed photograph of himself, A████ and S████ in the streets of Hyper City. 

Clever boy, that one.

And then there was poor S████, cowering behind the other two as she refused to look me in the eyes. Within their shaking hands, I could just barely make out a snow globe, containing within it a miniature model of the city – one that lined up very well with what B████’s photo depicted.

After looking at each of the souvenirs, I handed them all back to their respective owners and thanked them on a job well done. 

A████ and B████ looked delighted to have my approval, but S████ was instead confused. She asked me why I wasn’t upset at her. 

After all, it had not done as I asked. They did bring a souvenir, yes, but it was not the one I instructed kit to get.

I informed her that I was very much aware of the fact that they had indeed tried to get a hold of a ‘Cat HRT’ prescription, but the plans fell through. And so I had said to her;

–

“Why would I be mad at you for trying?”

–

That did seem to make her feel better, though not entirely. So I went for another swing;

–

“And besides, you’ll have some to show off in about 48 months right? That’s a pretty short amount of time in the grand scheme of what we’re promised.”

–

But that one was unfortunately a miss.

As it turns out, S████ was not in fact just put on the waiting list for getting her desired ‘Animal HRT’. 

She had been outright rejected.

She had explained - tearfully - that no real reason had been given to it, just some vague bullshitting about a “sketchy result in a background check”.

I remember seeing red then, and I still do now as I write this down.

I knew right then and there that I would have to face this doctor himself. Doctor Erian is his name, apparently.

But whoever he is, I’m going to make him fess up to the real reason he denied S████ treatment. 

> May I accompany you?

You? Asking to do something? That’s new.

But yeah. I was already planning on it.

> Of course you were, gayass.

BITCH???

So mean to me, for no reason at all. </3

But anyways.

My memory of what happened next begins to become a bit fuzzy at this point, but I know I took off from the break room and wordlessly made my way to Mr. D████’s office. I knew I’d need to get another bit of approval to go to Hyper City myself. That certainty was the only thing in my mind at the time outside of the all-consuming rage I had felt.

Once I entered his office, however, that one driving thought had faded. I had gotten where I needed to in order to get what I wanted, so all that was left was my anger. 

It’s at that point where my memory cuts out completely for a bit.

We pick back up some time later, with me still sitting in the office, and Mr. D████ walking in on me being there.

Understandably, he asked what I was doing in there – which snapped me out of my daze.

I had been seated in a chair placed right in front of his desk, gripping on a teddy bear that had been placed on his desk, ████, I think his name is, with such force that it could probably kill if the guy was still human. 

After recollecting myself, I had managed to explain what had happened with S████, and gave out my request to go to Hyper City on my own to confront Doctor Erian. 

I was approved for February 9th. “Don’t kill the guy”, I was told.

No promises.

–

The following is an email correspondence between Doctor Theodore H. Erian and Doctor Mirai Fortune.

To: Dr. Mirai Fortune

From: Dr. Theodore H. Erian

Subject: Follow Up on “Notes on Animal HRT”

Good afternoon Doctor Fortune. 

Or whatever time of day it is for you where you are. 

I have finally gotten around to reading through the PDF file you sent to me, and I must say, first and foremost, that I apologize for brushing off both our face-to-face meeting in my office some months ago and your first few emails as baseless fear mongering. It seems I have no reason to regret turning Miss Holmes away after all.

That is, I assume the person described as seeking Cat HRT in these notes is her, right?

I ask because while I am not sure if you are aware of this, parts of the file are redacted. Specifically, all names mentioned in the text aside from my own. 

I personally find this quite troubling, as I believe that having as much information on this group of people is priority here, especially when it seems that the writer of the notes, who I only know currently as “L” due to the redactions, threatens to harm me.

Dr. T. H. Erian

To: Doctor Theodore H. Erian

From: Doctor Mirai Fortune

Subject: PDF Error

Hello, Doctor Erian.

The redaction on some parts of the PDF I sent you is not intended, and the fact that it is there is something that deeply troubles me. I apologize for whatever confusion it may have caused. I really thought my assistant had successfully decrypted the encryption put on the document.

You see, Doctor Erian, the people that we are dealing with are very committed to their secrecy. 

But the two of us will continue to work on this matter, and will send you the decrypted files as soon as we can.

Thank you for informing me of this matter.

And by the way, yes. The apparent “S” mentioned in the files is Serena Holmes. I appreciate you taking my advice to refuse her treatment.

I understand you may see it as cruel to deny a patient on such grounds, but I promise you that she is not nearly as innocent as she seems.

None of these people are.

Again, thank you for working with us to ensure the safety and sanctity of humanity across the dimensions.

Mirai 

To: Doctor Mirai Fortune

From: Doctor Theodore H. Erian

Subject: Response To: “PDF Error”

Good morning Doctor Fortune,

I understand that the redactions were made in error, but can I at the very least have the name of the person who wrote these notes? Again, it seems that they intend to hurt me, and I would like to have the necessary information to keep them out of my office. 

By the way, shortly after you left that picture of Miss Holmes at my desk, I tried asking a friend of mine that is more familiar with other dimensions and supernatural things about that symbol that was on the back of the photo. Unfortunately, the two of us got a bit… distracted talking about something else that was going on at the time, so I was not able to get an answer from her. 

Could you tell me what it is? Thank you in advance.

Dr. T. H. Erian

To: Doctor Theodore H. Erian

From: Doctor Mirai Fortune

Subject: Names and Symbols

Hello Doctor Erian.

The symbol on the back of the photo is the emblem of the organization Serena is a part of. Refuse service to all that wear it.

You will find that the name of these note’s author will be easy to find. Fortunately, it seems the title of the document itself was successfully decrypted by my assistant in the copy you have. 

What is the name of this “friend” you speak of? Is she an assistant of yours? 

Mirai

To: Doctor Mirai Fortune

From: Doctor Theodore H. Erian

Subject: Assistant

Good evening, Doctor Fortune,

The name of my friend is Iris – she calls herself “Iris the Dark Witch”. I suppose you could call her an “assistant” in a sense, as she is the one I worked with to develop Animal HRT (Humanity Removal Therapy), in the first place. 

I’ll forward her this email chain to see if I can get her opinion on all this. 

Aside from that, I must admit I am not fond of your vagueness when it comes to the author’s name. Again, I ask, what is their name?

Dr. T. H. Erian

To: Doctor Theodore H. Erian

From: Doctor Mirai Fortune

Subject: [N/A]

Hello Doctor Erian.

If it does not come to you now, then it will when he shows up in your office.

I trust you to act accordingly.

If he asks to have you view anything on his computer, refuse immediately.

Mirai 

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Nanny

Having never been to a high society wedding before, Soarynn had made the foolish, naive mistake of thinking that she'd actually get to spend a moment alone with her husband.

How wrong she had been.

From the moment they stepped into the dining room, they were pulled in separate directions.

Soarynn was swarmed by the women complimenting her entire look for the day, her hair, her makeup, and of course, her dress. Every time either of them sat back down at the dinner table, they were getting right back up again.

Coriolanus mostly talked business and politics with the men, and occasionally he'd be congratulated on getting married.

Once they moved to the ballroom it was even busier. Soarynn was expected to greet and thank every guest as the new First Lady and with Eudora by her side, she actually managed quite well. Coriolanus would appear and disappear from her side while she greeted all of their guests, whispering words of encouragement, kissing her temple, and then going back into the crowd.

At least she had the children to keep her company. They showered her with compliments all while basking in all of the attention they were given. Truly children in a candy shop.

"When can we be expecting more little ones?" An older woman had asked Soarynn while smiling down at Caspian. Soarynn had honestly been a bit taken aback by her forwardness, she hadn't even been married for a full day and people already expected her to be pregnant.

Thank goodness she had Eudora to help her navigate her way out of awkward conversations. "Just ignore them dear," Eudora had advised, "enjoy the rest of your night with your husband."

Easier said than done.

Soarynn had last seen Coriolanus in what looked like a serious conversation with Quintus and several other important-looking men. Still, she wandered through the ballroom, flashing smiles at all who looked in her direction. "Such a beautiful ceremony," a woman says to Soarynn, "and such a beautiful bride." Soarynn feels a more genuine smile crawl across her lips, "Thank you for your kind words, and thank you so much for attending."

The woman waves her off, "Oh we wouldn't miss this for anything, it's the wedding of the century!"

Soarynn keeps mingling, answering questions, and posing for photos, she can see her husband's blonde head of hair standing tall above everyone else's, and just as she's about to reach him, she's ambushed by Lucky Flickerman and his camera crew.

"I've got Soarynn Snow with me folks! Soarynn. Snow. Remember that name because you're gonna be hearing a lot of it in the upcoming months with next year's elections coming up! Now Soarynn, what do you have to say to those watching from the Districts?"

He points the microphone at Soarynn and she's nearly blinded by the camera's bright light but she manages a graceful smile, "My husband and I are so grateful for those who took the time out of their days to watch our wedding." Lucky nods along to her words, soaking up every syllable as if she's a general delivering an encouraging speech to her battered troops. "Well said Mrs. Snow! I've been hearing nothing but the highest praises sung about your beauty today, and may I just say, you look stunning in that dress! Who designed such a piece of work?"

Soarynn feels herself relax at a question that she can easily answer without any repercussions, "My dear friend Tigris designed my dress," she tells Lucky, "she's designed most of my gowns the past year, she's bringing a new edge to fashion."

Lucky's eyes grow large, "A new edge you say? Well, folks, it looks like we're on the cusp of a new fashion era! How exciting! Well my dear, congratulations again, I can't wait to see you at the Victory Party!"

Ah yes, another party.

Soarynn thanks Lucky for his time, pressing the complimentary kiss to his cheek before he runs off to interview more unfortunate souls. Soarynn let out a deep breath she didn't even realize that she was holding in. She doesn't even get a moment to relax before she hears a small voice calling for her attention, "Mommy!"

Soarynn looks to her left and finds Celeste walking towards her, hand in hand with an older-looking woman. Soarynn has never met this woman before but that applies to a majority of the people in this room today, "Hello darling, who did you bring along with you?" She asks, brushing back some of Celeste's curls, "I brought Grandmother!"

Soarynn's eyes widen and she looks back up at the older woman who now looks very familiar. Mrs. Cardew, Livia's mother. She didn't even know that the Cardews were invited.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Soarynn says softly, extending her hand to the Grandmother of her children. Mrs. Cardew takes her hand and gives it a firm shake, "The pleasure is all mine. I've heard nothing but wonderful things about you from the children and everyone in this room," Mrs. Cardew says, her gaze impenetrable.

Coriolanus has maybe spoken about the Cardews three times total and he never mentioned inviting them to the wedding. Not that Soarynn minds, but she would've appreciated a heads-up at least.

"Thank you, that's very kind," Soarynn replies, feeling a bit caught even though she's done nothing wrong and this is her wedding, "Coriolanus and I appreciate you coming." Mrs. Cardew's eyes travel down Soarynn's dress as if looking for a flaw but it seems that she's found none, "Yes, we will always do our duty to support our country and our President."

Soarynn swallows because she is not the President or the reason they came tonight.

"I want to have more cookies," Celeste says, tugging on her Grandmother's hand impatiently. Soarynn goes to correct her but Mrs. Cardew holds up a hand, "We can go get more cookies, Celeste."

Celeste grins, giving Soarynn a wave before she begins to drag her Grandmother into the crowd but the cake is being wheeled in and causing quite the traffic jam from the looks of it. Only inches away from one another, Soarynn could cut the tension between her and Mrs. Cardew with a knife.

"Take care of my grandchildren, will you?" Mrs. Cardew whispers, her green eyes reflecting so many emotions at once, grief, sadness, and loss. Soarynn nods, "I'll guard them with my life," she promises and she means it too, she's done it before and she'll gladly do it again.

That seems to make Mrs. Cardew relax and she sighs, "Good, and you'll make him happy won't you?" She nods towards Coriolanus who's standing on the other side of the ballroom, "My daughter was never good at that."

Mrs. Cardew and Celeste disappear into the crowd before Soarynn can even respond, leaving her with a million thoughts racing through her head. But she knows one thing for certain, she'll make Coriolanus happy, it's what a good wife does.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn would be lying if she said that she wasn't exhausted.

Still, she waves to those who are watching her as she slides into the backseat of the car that will drive them to her childhood home for their much-awaited honeymoon.

Coriolanus slides in after her and lets out a deep sigh once the doors are closed and they're hidden by the tinted windows, "Well that was exhausting," he says, resting his head on her shoulder. Soarynn chuckles, at least he's honest, "It was rather tiring," she agrees, her hand finding his, "but it was so wonderful. Thank you for making today so special."

He gives her hand a gentle squeeze and the car starts moving, "You were what made it so wonderful darling, I simply paid the bill."

They both laugh at his very true statement. Coriolanus barely planned a thing but he did sign every check that Soarynn or Eudora laid across his desk without even batting an eye at the price.

"We're married," she whispers, giddiness taking over her entire body, "I can't believe we're finally married." Coriolanus hums and brings up their intertwined hands to admire her rings, "All everyone could tell me tonight was about how beautiful you are, how kind and sweet, makes me wonder how you ended up with a man like me."

Soarynn scoffs, sitting up straighter, "You say that as if you're evil or something." Coriolanus lifts his head so that he can look directly into her eyes, "I'm the President darling," he tells her gently as if that's enough of an explanation, "every decision I make angers half of the country and the other half still finds something to critique."

Soarynn frowns, he's always been under so much pressure, and with the elections coming up next year, he's bound to be even more stressed. "Maybe...maybe you shouldn't run for reelection then," she whispers, scanning his face for any signs of anger, she doesn't doubt his abilities but she doesn't want him to carry this weight alone.

Coriolanus shakes his head, a determined look in his blue eyes, "It's not even an option at this point Soarynn," he tells her, "my advisors have been pushing for this since I got elected the first time and none of my competitors stand a chance against me. I have everything I need to win again, the name, the money, the family."

Goosebumps cover Soarynn's skin at the last word, "People are already asking when we'll be having more children," she blurts out, unable to contain her thoughts any longer, "and I met Livia's mother tonight."

Coriolanus can't even hide his look of surprise, not that she can blame him. Coriolanus Snow is an expert in masking his emotions but he can't always be prepared for whatever she throws at him. "I didn't expect the Cardews to come," he finally says, almost like admitting to a secret, "and as for future children, I've told you this already darling, we have three perfect children already. If we have more then that'll be wonderful, if we don't, then all will be well."

He's right. They have three beautiful children right now, sound asleep in their beds, healthy as can be and Soarynn is worrying about having more babies. She ought to stop thinking about the future so much, it can't be healthy. Soarynn hums and leans in to peck his lips, "I feel like I barely saw you tonight, and when I did you were talking to another man. Makes me question where your loyalties lie."

Coriolanus smirks, cupping her face with his large hand, "My loyalties hmm?" His deep voice sounds so very attractive right now, "Well my darling, I am confident to say that my loyalties lie directly with you, and that sweet little cunt between your legs that I can't wait to get properly acquainted with tonight."

Soarynn turns the brightest shade of pink and shoves him, "Language!"

Coriolanus laughs at her flustered state, he’s always been one to enjoy using vulgar language in the bedroom and it always manages to rile her up whether she likes it or not. But to be on the giving end of such words makes her nervous.

Soarynn has a very limited set of words and phrases that she uses in the bedroom such as: ‘Please’, ‘Oh, please’, ‘Thank you’, ‘Please let me cum’, ‘Oh, right there’, and ‘Oh, that feels so good Coryo’.

Coriolanus on the other hand has a whole plethora of things to whisper in her ear while they roll around in the sheets. Most of which are so nasty that she can hardly believe that he’s the same man who addresses the entire nation with inspiring speeches and levels of maturity.

Two sides to each coin she supposes.

They spend the rest of the car ride sharing kisses and words of devotion with one another all while Coriolanus remains insistent on trying to sneak his hands under the skirt of her dress but it's a very large skirt and he's underestimated his abilities to get in her pants so to speak.

By the time they arrive at the Nightingale townhouse, Coriolanus is ready to rip the dress off of her entirely. He's so very impatient in everything he does from opening the car door to helping Soarynn out of the car. She herself is in no rush and takes her time walking up the paved pathway leading up to her front door while Coriolanus fumbles to unlock it.

Soarynn and Eudora had come to her childhood home last week to make sure everything was prepared for their short stay including the keys. "Is everything alright darling?" Soarynn asks once she reaches a struggling Coriolanus at the door, resting a hand on his shoulder, "Perfectly fine," he answers through gritted teeth while trying to unlock the door.

Soarynn sighs heavily for added effect, "It's terribly cold out here Coryo, are you set on freezing your wife already?"

The look he gives her goes straight to Soarynn's core but she continues her verbal assault while he continues to fumble with the door, "I thought husbands were supposed to have everything taken care of," she says, scratching at the spot where his golden curls start to grow, his favorite spot for her to touch when they're in bed, "but maybe I'm just too young and naive to understand marriage."

Coriolanus finally gets the door unlocked and shoves it open with his foot while grabbing Soarynn by the arm and pulls her inside. The moment he shuts the door, he's all over her. His hands around her waist while his lips worship her own in a heated, heavy kiss.

He works his way from her lips to her jawline, sucking on the delicate skin, "Coryo," she gasps, "Coryo no marks." Coriolanus groans against her skin and brings one hand around her neck, gently squeezing it while pressing Soarynn against the front door, "The wedding is over," he says hoarsely, "which means you're all mine now darling and I intended on leaving a mark or two."

Soarynn's eyes flicker with excitement and she nods towards the grand staircase, "What're you waiting for then?"

Coriolanus smirks, pressing one more chaste kiss to her lips before bending down and picking Soarynn up bridal-style. She lets out a shriek and quickly wraps her arms around his neck when he starts towards the stairs, "Coryo! I can walk up the stairs you know."

Coriolanus chuckles and begins climbing the marble staircase, ignoring her looks and words of protest, "I know darling, but it's tradition for a man to carry his bride to their room and we both know that I'm a man who values tradition." He is indeed.

Soarynn can only roll her eyes and rest her head on his shoulder while he continues climbing and she must admit, it's very attractive how easily he can carry her and the dress as if they weigh nothing to him.

When they finally reach the top, Coriolanus gives a triumphant sigh, "I honestly have no idea where to go from here," he admits and they both laugh. Coriolanus might be familiar with the first floor, but the second floor of the Nightingale townhouse is a mystery to him. But not to Soarynn, "Down the hall," she kicks her foot in the general direction, "second door to the left."

Coriolanus strides down the dark hallway, the hallway that Soarynn spent her entire childhood running up and down. The doors at the very end lead to her parent's room, a room that's remained untouched since her father's death.

Coriolanus manages to open her bedroom doors without dropping her, revealing her own bedroom, ready for the newlywed couple. Soarynn had sprinkled some rose petals on the sheets when she and Eudora came to check on everything and she's pleased with the atmosphere it's created.

Coriolanus gently sets her back down but not without peppering her face with kisses first, making Soarynn giggle, "You're such a flirt," she purrs, resting a hand on his smoothly shaven cheek. Coriolanus winks at her, "Only for you."

The two soak it all in for a moment, their wedding, the fact that they're now married, and most importantly, the fact that they're about to have sex for the first time.

"I should take off my shoes," she whispers, unwrapping herself from her husband and walking over to her bed. Soarynn sits on the bench at the foot of her bed, a spot that Petunia loves to lounge on and she watches Coriolanus curiously look around her room. The last time a Snow was in her room was when she was hired again and had to pack up her things with the children.

Coriolanus displays a similar level of curiosity as the children while looking at her room. It's a rather large room with two doors by her bed leading out to the balcony. Coriolanus takes his time looking at every photograph on the walls, reaching up to touch some of them.

Soarynn smiles at the sweet sight, she'd like to think that she brings out a younger side of him, sweeter and gentler.

She slips off her shoes with a relieved sigh, those heels were killing her. Soarynn looks around her room as well, everything the same way as she left it but she's about to leave this room very differently. A woman.

Soarynn takes Coriolanus poking around her things as an opportunity to unzip her dress, feeling even more relieved now that the tight bodice is no longer holding her in. Soarynn ever so carefully steps out of the dress pooled around her legs, making sure not to trip over any of the tulle. Tigris mentioned putting it in a box to preserve it and Eudora said there was a possibility of it being in a museum.

It'll be on the floor until further notice.

Soarynn takes a quick look at herself in her vanity mirror's reflection, admiring the lingerie she chose to wear for her wedding night. With the dress being strapless, that meant her bralette would have to be as well. It's entirely made up of intricate lace patterns, all while pushing up her breasts in a tasteful manner. Her panties are also white lace with little frills on the sides and a rose in the very center of the waistband, almost like a bow on a present.

Soarynn hadn't wanted to go too overboard with the lingerie, not when she knew that Coriolanus would rip it off in a matter of seconds.

"Your room is very charming," he says, turning around to face her, and Soarynn drinks in every second of his slacked jaw once he lays eyes on her. It's not every day that one gets to see a speechless Coriolanus Snow but Soarynn isn't just anyone. No, she's Mrs. Snow, the First Lady of Panem.

"I'm also quite charming," she replies, clasping her hands behind her back, "in case you forgot."

Coriolanus swallows down the lump in his throat and quickly shakes his head, "No, no, not at all darling, I could never forget how beautiful...how charming you are!"

Soarynn smiles at his flustered behavior and holds a hand out to him, "I'm ready," she tells him, her tone soft and gentle. Coriolanus needn't be told twice, he crosses the room in seconds and his hands immediately come to rest on her waist, "You look magnificent," he mumbles while kissing her shoulder, "if I knew this was under that dress then I would've ripped it off of you the second you started walking down the aisle."

Soarynn gives him a playful shove, scoffing when he smirks, "Are you even capable of saying anything without throwing in such vulgar phrases?"

Coriolanus shrugs, not at all ashamed of his behavior, "No, you'll find I'm rather hopeless when it comes to being alone with you in the bedroom."

Soarynn hums and slides her hands up his chest, resting them on his broad shoulders, "Well I'd say that you're terribly overdressed for an event such as this one," she whispers.

Soarynn helps him take off his suit jacket, also discarding it on the floor while he works on kicking off his black leather shoes. It's both of them fumbling in the dark while trying to kiss each other and get Coriolanus undressed but they manage it quite well. Soarynn goes to unbutton his shirt but she must be taking too long for his liking because Coriolanus just rips it clean down the middle, sending buttons flying everywhere.

"Your shirt," she gasps against his lips.

His hands slide down to her ass, squeezing it, "You like me shirtless," he mumbles, going for his belt next.

Coriolanus gives her a gentle shove and Soarynn falls onto the bed, completely breathless and all they've done is kiss so far. She pops up on her elbows and watches Coriolanus slide his belt out of the belt loops, tossing it onto the floor with a clatter. He looks so handsome, so deliciously large and big in every way possible. His eyes never leave hers as he unzips his pants, sliding them down to show her just how much he really wants her.

Soarynn whimpers at the sight of his cock straining in his boxers. She's well acquainted with how big he feels in her mouth and in her hands but losing her virginity is something else entirely.

Coriolanus grabs her ankle and pulls her to the edge of the bed, causing her to fall back onto her back with a sharp gasp. He leans down over her, resting a hand by her head while his lips capture hers in a very excited kiss. His teeth tug at her bottom lip and his other hand slides down her stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind it.

Soarynn whimpers and wiggles in his touch, causing Coriolanus to crawl onto the bed, resting his knees on either side of her body so he can fully be on top of her while kissing her. Soarynn gives into the kiss wholeheartedly, running her fingers through his golden curls.

His fingers run over her covered cunt, ghosting over her clit before sliding back down to do it all over again. Soarynn moans impatiently, bucking into his head for more contact, more direct contact. Coriolanus fucking laughs into the kiss, teasing her for being so impatient as if he wasn't trying to get her naked in the car.

"Coriolanus," she whispers, tightening her grip on his curls.

He groans into the kiss, "Yes?"

"Hurry up and make love to me."

Soarynn's vulgar yet direct words do something to Coriolanus and spur him into action. He sits up on his knees, looming over her while bringing both hands to her lace panties, admiring them and the details, "A rose," he murmurs, slipping his fingers under the waistband so very slowly, "how cute."

He gently goes to pull down her panties and Soarynn is more than happy to lift up her hips to speed up the process. He slips them off of her ankles and tosses them behind him, long forgotten already. Soarynn watches with bated breath as he pries her legs open with his large hands, his bright blue eyes looking down at her most intimate parts with no shame whatsoever.

"So pretty like always," he says, grabbing her right leg and pulling it up into the air, kissing her thigh, "and so flexible for me."

Soarynn whines, already so flustered and ready to go and yet he's insistent on torturing her. "Coryo," she whimpers, "hurry up." He shoots her a stern look, shaking his head and laying her leg back down, "I'd say I deserve to take my time with you tonight," he tells her, slipping a hand between her legs. Soarynn gasps when she feels his long fingers slipping between her wet folds, "Oh, please."

"Tonight, I plan on making love to you," he tells her, "but tomorrow morning," his lips twist up into a cocky grin, "I plan on fucking you so hard that the only thing you'll remember is my name."

If Soarynn wasn't wet before, she's fucking soaked now.

Soarynn bucks into his hand, desperate to feel something inside of her even though she doesn't know what that feels like yet. She's going to find out very soon. Coriolanus pulls his hand away from her cunt, earning him an annoyed whine from Soarynn which he ignores while grabbing her knees with both hands, pushing them up to her chest, exposing all of her to him.

"You really do have a perfect cunt Soarynn."

Soarynn can only watch as he leans down and begins lapping at her cunt as if he's starving. Soarynn moans, stuck with nowhere to go while her husband eats her out like she's his last meal. Her eyes roll back when she feels his tongue on her clit, using the tip of his tongue to truly pinpoint her most sensitive bud.

"Oh fuck," she whimpers, grasping at the sheets.

Soarynn grinds her cunt against his face, moaning loudly when his nose bumps her clit. He's always had such a nice big nose and she has yet to sit on it.

Coriolanus doesn't let up on her cunt, licking it up and down, side to side, biting her clit from time to time while he brings her closer and closer to her peak. Soarynn is almost there, her moans grow higher in pitch, and then...

He pulls away.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She snaps, glaring up at him and his arrogant smirk, "I would never kid about fucking you," he smoothly answers, letting go of her knees, "in fact, I'd say it's about time that I fucked you, darling."

He finally goes to pull down his boxers and Soarynn watches his cock spring out from its confinement, red at the tip, long in length and girthy. It might hurt the more that she looks at it.

Coriolanus gets out of his boxers and taps her hip, shaking her from her thoughts about the pain, "Up onto the pillows darling," he instructs her. Soarynn looks up at her headboard where all her fluffy pillows are waiting for her to lay her head down on them, "It seems so far," she mumbles, not really wanting to move. Coriolanus rolls his eyes, and grabs her the waist, picking her up and throwing her to the top of the bed in seconds.

Soarynn squeals once she lands, "That was rude."

Coriolanus chuckles, shaking his head, "It's my fault for letting you become such a pillow princess." Soarynn gasps at the statement, the very true statement but that's beside the point. "I am nothing of the sort," she insists, ignoring the look he gives her, "you simply need to be in control all the time."

Coriolanus grunts and crawls on top of her, resting his hands on either side of her head, caging her in, "I think you like it though," he says lowly, causing her to squeeze her thighs together, "I think you like it when I tell you what to do Soarynn."

"Maybe," she answers in a shaky voice. He grins and presses a kiss to her forehead, "I like it too, I like everything about you."

Soarynn's eyes widen when she feels his knee pushing her legs apart, "Well...well that's good since we're married and all that," she mumbles, suddenly feeling very, very nervous and inexperienced.

Coriolanus picks up on it immediately and adopts a kinder, softer tone, "Yes it is. And that means I get the privilege of being trusted by you to take your virginity, which I plan to do with the utmost care."

She lets out a small sigh of relief, she's never doubted Coriolanus and his ability to be gentle, not when she's seen him with the children. but the bedroom is a different thing, a different mindset.

"Okay," she whispers, staring into his blue eyes, "I'm ready."

Coriolanus leans down to kiss her and this time the kiss is sweet and gentle, patient and kind, not pushy or aggressive like other kisses that they've shared in the past.

"I love you," he says against her lips, slipping his fingers into her carefully styled hair that will be a mess by the end of the night, "no matter what I love you Soarynn."

His words mean more to her than he'll ever know.

"I love you too," she says, not at all afraid to say it anymore. There was a time when she'd only say it when the time was right, when neither of them had dealt with a stressful day and they were lying in the warm bathwater, when everything felt right in the world.

But she's since left that mindset behind, saying it whenever she feels like it.

And she's never felt more in love in her entire life than right now, safely under him.

They stay like that for a while, sharing sweet and patient kisses with one another, not at all in a rush to do what they've both been thinking about for so long. Soarynn is so caught up in the moment that she doesn't even register the tip of his cock brushing against her folds until Coriolanus lets out a low, timber groan. "Oh," she gasps, resting her hands on his shoulders, bracing herself for the inevitable pain of losing one's virginity.

"Tell me if it hurts," he sternly instructs her, resting his forehead against her own. Soarynn can only nod, at a loss for words while experiencing this new sensation. Coriolanus is large all over, not one part of him is small and while it's been very attractive so far, it does pose the difficulty of her first time.

But Coriolanus is slow while pushing in and Soarynn gasps when she feels the tip of his cock brushing against her walls, a new sensation that she welcomes wholeheartedly. She's heard many a tale from her friends about how it feels, how addictive it can become. She never believed them until now.

"Fuck Soarynn," he grits out, "so fucking tight."

Soarynn whimpers as more of him pushes in, the feeling is overwhelming and she has nowhere to go. She squirms under him to try and find a more comfortable position and Coriolanus lets out a strained moan, "Don't," he pants, "don't move yet darling." Soarynn looks up at his face and she can see just how hard he's trying to be gentle, how he's having to actively restrain himself from fucking her as hard as he can.

There seems to be a bump to get over figuratively speaking and Coriolanus gets over it with one sharp jab of his hips, sending waves of pain and pleasure throughout Soarynn's body. She gasps, her back arches off the bed as he fully sinks into her.

Soarynn is no longer a virgin.

"You okay?"

Soarynn closes her eyes while getting used to the foreign feeling of having Coriolanus inside of her, "Mhm."

"Because if something hurts you need to tell me."

Soarynn's toes curl when he slightly leans forward, pushing the tip of his cock against her sweet spot, a spot she didn't even know existed until now, "I know," she mumbles, finding the courage to open her eyes again. Coriolanus is already looking down at her with a fond look in his eyes, a look filled with adoration as if she's the single most important thing in his life.

"I'm fine," she whispers, scratching behind his ear, "perfectly so."

He gives her a lazy smile and leans down to kiss her lips, staying perfectly still which must be quite difficult where his own pleasure is concerned but he doesn't push her at all, "Well you feel amazing," he mumbles against her lips, "we might have to do this every night."

Soarynn laughs, they haven't even moved yet and he's already addicted. No matter how mature or important Coriolanus is, he's a man at the end of the day and Soarynn has learned that for the most part, all men want the same thing.

Sex.

"You can move," she tells him, the pain ebbing away slowly. He gives her a questioning look but Soarynn won't have any of it, they've waited this long. She wraps her left leg around his torso, resting her heel on his back to encourage him which leads him to slide even further inside of her, causing them both to moan, "Please," she breathes, "please Coryo, make love to me."

Coriolanus hums, kissing her once more before slowly dragging his cock out, slowly and teasingly before thrusting back into her. He's figuring out the pace and Soarynn is figuring out what this feels like but sex is something she's never felt before. Coriolanus has gone down on her before but nothing compares to them being connected like this.

She wonders if she's doing good, if she should be doing more. Coriolanus has always taken charge but perhaps he'd like her to take the reigns for once. "Is this okay?" She asks, moving her hips in tandem with his. Coriolanus moans and it sounds heavenly, low, and raspy, "Perfect," he groans, "you're perfect."

Coriolanus starts to move a little bit faster, not by much but enough to make a difference and Soarynn can feel the pleasure starting to take over. "Oh, my," she says, digging her nails into his skin, "oh, fuck."

It feels so fucking good. He's everywhere. Inside of her, on top of her, around her. Coriolanus Snow is an all-consuming entity.

He takes his time with her, whispering sweet phrases, kissing her softly while making her feel so good. Soarynn now understands why people are so crazy about sex, why they can't stop thinking about it. It's amazing that he's been able to wait this long to do this with her.

Coriolanus slips a hand between her legs and thumbs her clit, causing Soarynn to let out a high-pitched moan, "Right there," she tells him, "it feels so good Coryo." He keeps his pace steady and all that can be heard in her bedroom is the sound of skin on skin and heavy breathing.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, sitting up on his knees while continuing to make love to her, "so perfect for me." He grabs her hips and it's a whole new angle, a mind-blowing one at that. Soarynn sees stars as he thrusts into her, he feels so good, so big, there's a slight burn every time he pushes into her but she welcomes the stretch.

"Please," Soarynn whimpers, looking up at her husband, "please, please, please."

"Please what?"

Soarynn attempts to give him a nasty look but Coriolanus only laughs in response, "Telling me what you want is the least you can do," he tells her. He has a point. Soarynn hasn't so much as lifted a finger since they got to the bedroom but she's always been more reserved when it comes to pillow talk.

"Please make me cum," she moans, arching her back for added effect and it seems to work on Coriolanus who switches his pace from slow and measured to slow and deep, making her feel every inch of his cock.

"Fuck Soarynn, you feel so good."

Soarynn thinks they might have sex every single day for the rest of their lives. Maybe even twice a day if they wake up early enough. She wouldn't mind. She'd be terribly sore but she wouldn't mind.

She can feel that wire inside of her starting to tighten, threatening to break and send her over the edge. "I'm close," she whines, grabbing the sheets, "Coryo, please."

Even buried deep inside of her, Coriolanus looks so handsome, so strong, and in control of the situation. He brings his hand back to her clit and Soarynn moans, it all feels like too much, she can feel herself going off the edge, so, so close.

Soarynn's orgasm takes over her entire body when she cums. Her eyes roll back and her back bends off the bed as if she's a puppet on his strings. Soarynn can't even say a single word that makes sense while Coriolanus swears under his breath, praising her for taking him so well. She doesn't even realize that he's finishing right behind her until her walls start to flutter around him again and she feels his cum dripping onto the bed and her thighs.

Coriolanus collapses on top of her, carefully so he doesn't crush her but still close enough to lay butterfly kisses against her neck. Soarynn is wide-eyed while she stares at the ceiling, mindlessly running her fingers through his curls. That was amazing, better than she could have ever imagined.

Coriolanus wraps his arms around her waist and slowly maneuvers them so that he's lying on his back and she's the one on top, still inside of her but soft now. Soarynn rests her head on his chest, exhausted from today's events and tonight's grand finale.

Coriolanus drags his fingers up and down her back and she can feel him fumbling with the clasp of her bralette. He manages to unhook it on the third try and he pulls it off of her, throwing it somewhere to the right. Soarynn relishes the feeling of her breasts against his bare chest, skin on skin.

She can feel his breathing slow down, his heart rate returning to normal while he continues rubbing her back while his other hand grabs hers, lacing their fingers together.

"What a day," he mumbles, his voice laced with sleepiness. Soarynn hums, perfectly content to lie here for the rest of their lives, "That was amazing," she mumbles against his skin and she feels his chest rumble as he laughs. "I had a feeling that you'd like it," he replies, resting his hand on her lower back, "just wait until tomorrow morning, then you'll never be able to get enough."

Soarynn sighs, a life filled with laughter and morning sex sounds perfectly wonderful in her mind. She's a married woman now so those things can be expected. His hand slips out of her hand and slides down her arm, stopping when he reaches the small scar on her bicep, still fading from when she got her birth control implant removed two weeks ago.

Soarynn had been terribly nervous about having the procedure done but she didn't want anything to stop her from getting pregnant. "Maybe I'm already pregnant," she throws out, hoping to manifest a healthy baby inside of her as soon as possible. Coriolanus shifts from under her and drapes the blankets over their naked bodies, "I don't want you pressuring yourself," he tells her sternly, kissing the top of her head, "these things take time darling."

Soarynn merely nods in response, too tired to fight him on the possibility of getting pregnant on their wedding night. But it could happen, she hopes it'll happen sooner than later. She can feel her eyes growing heavy while her breathing syncs to his, in and out, slow and steady.

Happy and loved.

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn wakes, she's in her childhood bedroom.

It takes her a few seconds to remember how she got here, what happened the day before. She carefully lifts her head off of the pillow, looking down at her sleeping husband. Coriolanus is lying on his side, one arm is slung over her waist while the other is under the pillow her head was lying on. Soarynn doesn't remember anything after falling asleep, doesn't remember if he washed them off or took her makeup off.

She gently places a hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb back and forth over his porcelain skin, admiring how handsome he looks even while in a deep slumber. His curls are tussled from last night and his lips are slightly parted.

It's hard to believe that he's the President of Panem at only twenty-six.

Soarynn shifts on her side and she feels incredibly sore from the waist down, especially between her legs. Soarynn lifts the sheets and stares down at their tangled legs before lowering the sheets again and her eyes focus on the red stain in the middle of the duvet. She lost her virginity last night. Coriolanus hadn't said anything about the blood but she's sure he was pleased at the confirmation that she wasn't lying about being a virgin.

Soarynn had heard stories about men who were required to report back to their families if their wives bled on their wedding night, a horrifying tradition to Soarynn who sleeps well knowing that Coriolanus doesn't speak of their sexual encounters with anyone. What happens in their bedroom, stays in their bedroom.

Soarynn reaches up to feel that her hair is still somewhat in its perfectly styled bun from last night but Coriolanus has a tendency to ruin any makeup or hairdos when they're rolling around in the sheets. Soarynn sits up, careful not to wake up Coriolanus as she swings her legs over the side of the bed and slowly stands up. Her legs slightly shake and she just knows that he'd be teasing her if he was awake.

Soarynn limps over to her vanity, grabbing his white button-up shirt on the way so that she's not entirely naked. Soarynn takes in her appearance once she's sat in front of the mirror and gasps, her makeup is smudged from sleeping in it and her hair is a rat's nest. She opens the vanity drawer and fishes around for a makeup wipe and a hair brush.

She takes her makeup off first, sighing at the fresh feeling of a bare face. Then she goes to tackle her hair which takes a lot more effort and skill than removing her makeup. There are so many pins in her bun and every time she thinks she's found the last one, she finds another one. Soarynn finally yanks her hair out of the thick hairbands holding it up and a wave of relief washes over her now that she's free from the tight updo.

Soarynn runs the brush through her hair, smoothing out any frizzy pieces while humming to herself. She feels so fucking sore right now and if Coriolanus is a man of his word, then she's going to be even more sore before breakfast. She looks back over at her sleeping husband, tuckered out from sex and getting married.

Then she looks down at her bare thighs and swallows at the sight of dried blood and...something else on her inner thigh. She shakes her head at the sight of it, looks like Coriolanus was too tired to wash either of them off last night. That's alright though, it means that they get to shower together once he wakes up.

She tucks some of her hair behind her ears and stands back up, padding over to his side of the bed where his back is bared to her. Maybe she'll cover it with scratches before the morning is over. He's mentioned in the past how much he loves her long nails on his skin.

Soarynn prides herself in having nice long nails, always painted in a light pearly pink shade, the same shade as her toenails. She's proud of her soft hair and perfectly groomed body. Coriolanus has never mentioned a distaste for body hair but Soarynn prefers to keep her body as hairless as possible, even if that means sharing and waxing regularly.

Soarynn climbs onto the bed after taking off the shirt and slings one leg over his side, somewhat straddling him, "Coryo," she says softly, poking his bicep, "wake up."

No response.

Soarynn huffs, he's usually up by now, already at work but today is a special day and Soarynn doesn't want it to go to waste. So she resorts to a more aggressive method of waking up her husband.

Tickling.

She slips her hand under his armpit and begins her assault, getting her immediate results when his eyes fly open from the sensation he despises. "Hey!" He shouts, still half-asleep while trying to push her off, "Wake up," she giggles, trying to slip her other hand under his arm as well but he catches onto her plan and uses his strength to grab her by the waist and tickle her instead.

Soarynn shrieks with laughter, falling back over to her side while he continues tickling her stomach with no signs of stopping, "Not so fun when the roles are reversed hmm?" He says into her ear, his voice is so low and scratchy in the morning and Soarynn already feels something stirring in her gut.

Soarynn attempts to throw her weight back into him to shove him off but her attempts are futile and Coriolanus easily pins her down to her stomach, using a hand on the small of her back to keep her down while he moves around behind her.

Soarynn struggles in his grip, trying to push herself up but it's no use, Coriolanus will always be stronger than her, a usually terrifying thought where women are concerned but Soarynn has always felt safe with him.

She manages to push her chest off of the bed and looks over her shoulder at her husband who's on his knees, wearing that cocky smirk and her eyes widen at the sight of his cock, hard and ready to be inside of her again, "I believe I promised to fuck you didn't I?" He croons, his tone domineering and sultry.

Soarynn can only nod in response and let him move her body however he wants it. He grabs her hips and hikes them into the air, leaving Soarynn with her ass up in the air and her back arched while her face is pressed into her pillow. Soarynn wiggles her hips in anticipation, if last night was him holding back, she can't wait to feel Coriolanus when he lets loose.

"I wish I could tell you how many times I've imagined you in this position darling," he says, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down her folds. Soarynn whines when the tip rubs against her clit and she can already feel the precum leaking from his cock, "Coryo," she moans, trying to move her hips but he stops her with a slap on the ass. "Be my good girl Soarynn and take it like you should," he tells her, lining up his cock with her entrance before pushing into her cunt.

They both moan at the sensation and her walls wrap around him instantly, "So tight," he says, rubbing her folds as they wrap around his length, "taking me so well, just like you should angel. And you were so good for me last night, bled on my cock just like I knew you would."

His vulgar words make Soarynn's eyes roll back and she moans into the pillow, her walls tremble around him. It feels so different, so much deeper while taking him from behind and she can already tell that he favors this position over any others.

Soarynn's toes curl when she feels him slide all the way in, pressing against her sweet spot in the most possessive way possible, "You look so perfect like this," he tells her, landing another slap to her ass, "giving yourself to me, face down and ass up. I pity the other men in the world who won't get to see this every day like I will."

Soarynn never knew Coriolanus could be so possessive over her but having sex has unlocked a new side of him that she's never experienced before.

"Please," she begs, pushing her hips back against his. They both moan when her ass presses against his hips, making her take every inch of his cock. Coriolanus tightens his grip on her hips and pulls his hips back before snapping them forward in one sharp jab and Soarynn gasps at the new feeling of being fucked from behind.

Coriolanus immediately picks up the pace, fucking her hard and fast while Soarynn moans into the pillows. She's screaming at this point from how good it feels, he's relentless, hitting the same spot every time with accuracy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she moans, grabbing at anything she can find. Coriolanus seems to notice that and he leans over her and grabs her hands, pulling them behind her and holding them against her back, truly leaving her to his mercy.

"I knew you'd like it," he says, "like being my little slut. Does it feel good Soarynn? Does it feel good to know that you're mine now? That every night you'll be stuck on the President's cock like the good little First Lady that you are for me?"

Soarynn has tears in her eyes from the pleasure, she can't even come up with a string of coherent words right now, let alone answer his taunting question. He starts going even faster if that's possible and Soarynn is so past the point of pleasure right now, she's somewhere in the middle of life and death from how hard he's fucking her.

"Taking me so well," he praises with a raspy voice, "you look so pretty like this, can't even use that pretty little head of yours to think can you angel?" Soarynn whimpers and tries to lift up her head to answer him but she fails miserably and falls back into the pillow, her moans muffled. He's right about one thing, she doesn't have a single thought in her pretty little head. He's consumed her every breath, all she can think about is Coriolanus Snow.

But then she feels it, that wonderful sensation that means she's about to reach her peak. She got here much quicker than she did last night but he's also moving much quicker than last night too.

Soarynn can't even speak, only moans leave her mouth as she cums, her walls flutter around his cock while he thrusts into her at a punishing pace. It's fucking mind-numbing and he's not even done yet.

"Good girl," he says, slipping a hand down to her clit, rubbing it in tight circles despite how sensitive she is from her orgasm, "now give me one more."

Soarynn sobs into the pillow, she can't even think let alone give him another orgasm.

"I...I can't," she cries, struggling in his hold.

Coriolanus fucks her even harder and faster, "You can and you will," he tells her, "my good girl always does what she'd told, doesn't she Soarynn?"

He's using her weaknesses against her, her need to be perfect, to always be good for him and it's about to make her cum again so maybe he's onto something here.

Her walls start to flutter again, that wire inside of her is insanely tight while he rubs her clit and fucks her, all she can hear are her muffled whimpers and his groans of pleasure before she tumbles over the edge again, this time with a silent scream while her body goes limp in his hold. Soarynn can't speak, can't breathe as her orgasm hits her like a truck, she feels something trickle down her leg, did she squirt?

She can't even find it in herself to care right now.

Coriolanus continues to fuck her and she can feel his thrusts stuttering a telltale sign that he's close as well. Soarynn can only lie there and take it when he finishes deep inside of her, coating her walls with his cum. Coriolanus lets out a deep, throaty moan and pushes her back further into the mattress, "Just like that," he pants, "take me just like that Soarynn."

Soarynn is in a state of bliss while Coriolanus continues to talk to her, not hearing a single thing he says while she drifts off into a headspace she's never been in before. She can feel him lifting up her hips as he pulls out of her, she feels strangely empty without him inside of her. Soarynn can feel his fingers pulling apart her folds and she hears him swear under his breath at the sight of her cunt filled with his cum, a sight he probably would love to see every day if he could.

Soarynn sighs and her entire body slumps forward, the sleep taking over her body as her eyes drift shut. The last thing she hears is Coriolanus murmuring a few words of praise while rubbing her back, "...such a good girl for me..."

Everything goes black.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn must be dreaming. She feels like she's floating on air or drifting through water.

Then she feels something, a hand, someone's hand sliding down her stomach towards her thighs. She feels the hand touch her most intimate parts and she wakes with a start, gasping while the bathwater splashes around her.

Coriolanus sits in front of her, an amused look in his bright eyes, "I promise I'm only cleaning you off," he assures her, his lips twitch into a lazy grin and Soarynn immediately relaxes. She looks around her bathroom, noting how brightly the sun shines through the windows.

Did she fall asleep after they had sex in the morning?

"I...how long was I asleep?" She asks, rubbing her eyes in hopes of waking up faster. Coriolanus slides his hand down her leg, stopping once he reaches her ankle, "A couple hours," he says with a shrug, "I guess I fucked you a little too hard." Soarynn scoffs, splashing some water in his face which earns her a teasing laugh, "Hardly," she retorts even though they both know she's lying.

His grin turns into the smirk that she's associated with vulgar comments and touchiness and he pulls her towards him by her ankle until they're face to face, inches apart, "Guess what I learned about you today."

Soarynn doesn't know if she's going to like hearing his answer.

"What?" She asks, begrudgingly taking his bait. Coriolanus shows all his pearly white teeth when he smiles, "I learned that my darling little wife can squirt when I fuck her really well."

Soarynn groans and covers her face with her hands, mortified by his recent discovery. Coriolanus finds nothing wrong with this apparently and grabs her wrists tugging her hands away from her face, "Don't hide from me darling, I've only just begun discovering the wonders of your body."

Soarynn wants to drown. She might as well try. She sinks below the water and stays submerged for about five seconds before two strong hands pull her above the surface, "Face your fears," he says with a laugh, squeezing her waist so gently compared to how rough he was hours ago.

Soarynn squints at him through her water-covered lashes, "But I'm not afraid of you." His face softens and she swears she can see relief hidden in his eyes, "Well that's good, I don't ever want you to be afraid of me, or of being intimate with me." Soarynn bites her lip, she saw a whole new side of her husband today, rougher, louder, stronger. Not at all the Coriolanus she's come to know over the past year.

"I'm not," she tells him softly, truly meaning her words, "and it was good, the sex was good," she elaborates, her cheeks turning pink, "it felt good, all of it."

Coriolanus chuckles, brushing some of her wet hair out from her face before leaning in to press a soft gentle kiss to her lips, "I'm glad you enjoyed it. You did very well, you trusted me and trust is everything to me." Soarynn nods along to his words, trust is everything to her as well, without it, they wouldn't be here right now.

"Promise me one thing Soarynn," he starts, pulling her into his chest so she can rest her head against him. "Anything," she murmurs, sinking further into his strong grip, "anything at all."

He deeply sighs, dragging his fingers up and down her side, "Never lie to me. I can forgive a lot of things but I despise lying, the children can testify to that as well. Never ever lie to me and I promise to give you everything your precious heart desires."

His words sink deep within her soul. Soarynn doesn't really lie, she doesn't enjoy it and she's not very good at it but she can sense the urgency behind his voice. Perhaps Livia lied to him and it ended badly for them. Well, not that anything can be worse than death but still, it must mean a lot to him. Or maybe it was Lucy Gray who created his hatred for lying.

Either way, Soarynn doesn't plan on being dishonest with her husband.

"You have my word," she tells him, lifting her hand and holding out her pinky, "I'll only tell you the truth and nothing but the truth."

Coriolanus hums, resting his chin on top of her head as he wraps his pinky around hers, sealing the promise.

After that, they talk about small, insignificant things while Coriolanus washes them off, a perfectly domestic feeling.

Soarynn feels herself falling asleep again but she's not worried, for she has a husband who will take care of her and protect her. Mind, body, and soul.

| Part 13. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

{ Part 14. }

| taglist: @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @villiansarehottest @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @kickmybark @melodyoflovee |

[yellowbunnydreams]

Bunny Punk (Part 1)~Punk!William Afton x F!Reader~

~So this started out as a concept, then turned into a one-shot, then I got to a point and thought to myself 'This is a series isn't it?' Thanks to @ruh--roh-raggy for putting up with my bullshit and proofing some of this story. I don't know how long this story will be, but I can imagine it might be one of my shorter series.~

CW: 18+ MINORS DNI, mention of scars, body and face piercings (inc, tongue, reference to others), tattooed!reader, punk!William, tattooed!Afton, age gap (Reader 20's, William 40's)

You sighed as you looked around the party going on in your college's gymnasium, filled with people perhaps double or so your age and the occasional peer who looked as bored as yourself, milling about and laughing as shitty music played in the background that you weren't even sure of the name of. Glancing at the sign strung over the doorway, you cursed yourself internally, wishing you hadn't signed up to help with this reunion event as you could have been doing much better things with your time. Like working on the million and one assignments that you felt like you had. Or perhaps simply just sleeping and procrastinating on those assignments.

The oversized black hoodie that you'd somehow convinced the dean of your department to let you wear sported some black embroidered gears along the sleeves, your nickname from your club printed over your left breast. Hair tied up and a tight pair of jeans, the cleanest you could find in the pile of washing that moved between your bed and a chair as required, never quite making it to the wardrobe.

Seeing the free food and drink table that was technically for the guests of the event, you bit your lip as you decided to go and visit it. What harm would taking a few snacks and drinks do? None of the faculty were looking, and the ones who were milling about were too engrossed in talking to old students and favouring talking to people too old to be wear jock-jackets and cheerleading skirts. Rolling your eyes as you wondered why they were all dressed up like they were awaiting for their class photos all over again.

William wasn't entirely sure why he'd accepted the invite back to his old college, his teeth finding the labret piercing along his lip and chewing it somewhat absently as he looked at the drinks table, thick brows furrowing as he decided whether or not to go fetch another drink. It had sounded like a good idea at the time when his friend Henry had convinced him to go, even though the theme was silly and he hadn't felt comfortable dressing as he was now for a while, but his friend had ditched at the last minute and now he was stood on the side-lines. Smiling politely as people he barely recognised came up to him and complimented how good he looked for his age, cooing over how they hadn't seen him in years.

It would perhaps be bearable if he remembered any of these people.

You weren't looking where you were going as your head darted around, trying to avoid being spotted by the dean before suddenly you walked into somebody, gasping as you stumbled back and a large hand shot out to grab you by the arm, steadying you. Blinking as you looked at who you'd walked into.

Whoever he was, he was older. Dark brown hair greying at the temple and becoming peppered through his short, sweptback haircut, greying eyebrows with the left one decorated by a complimentary silver ring. A septum piercing caught you slightly off guard, but the greying eyes hidden behind golden wire framed aviator glasses held your attention. Slight scowl on his sharp features as you couldn't help but notice a lip ring, cheeks filling with colour as you thought how handsome he was.

"Sorry! I um..Sorry." You stammered out, averting your eyes quickly before hearing a grunt, the hand letting you go. William's eyes raked over you quickly, assessingly as he took in how young you were, the oversized hoodie with the subtle designs, a name he couldn't quite read on the breast.

"Are you meant to be in here? You don't look like one of my old classmates." Crossing his thick, strong forearms across his chest, your eyes naturally flickered to the tattoo sleeve on his right, the intricate designs standing out as bio-mechanical, following where the bones in his arms laid, although there was another design you couldn't quite make out on the inside of his forearm.

"I um..I'm one of the student volunteers for the event, sir." You explained quickly, snapping your attention back to his face as you found yourself more flustered that you'd been staring at him. Hearing a snort coming from the taller man as you watched a smirk flicker across his face.

"Volunteer?" The smirk on his face developed and he couldn't help but let it spread as he looked down at your nervous face. Feeling a sense of satisfaction that you looked so flustered, watching how your eyes would momentarily flicker to his arm and trace the linework before seeming to catch yourself and focus on his face again. "They still getting you to do that stupid shit? Do they still offer extra credit for it?" He asked, making you reciprocate the smile as you shook your head.

"Nah, extra credit would be nice but we get two free lunch credits for our 'service' tonight." Shrugging your shoulders as the man whistled, looking back at the food table and then back to you. Allowing you to quickly steal glances at the tight black t-shirt and jeans he was wearing before he turned back to you.

"Two whole credits hey? And they don't let you have any of the good stuff on the table?" Raising an eyebrow before the grin returned. "How big are the pockets on that hoodie?"

"Sorry?"

"The hoodie pockets, how big are they?" He asked, gesturing to your hoodie and making you look at it, humming in thought before you answered.

"I can carry a two-litre soda bottle and a bag of chips usually."

"Perfect. Fancy stealing some snacks and ditching this snooze-fest?" He grinned, making you raise an eyebrow in return and cross your arms this time, looking up at him and wondering how serious he was.

"Snooze-fest? What it this the eighties? And secondly...I may have been aiming to 'help the help' when we collided." Grinning as the man offered his arm to you and you cautiously took it, feeling silly as you stuck close to him. Seeing a few of the people around you glancing sideways at you and the tall tattooed man, but looking away quickly as he glared at them.

Approaching the snack table, you went to break away but he held onto your arm, keeping you close as he looked about before his large hand darted out, grabbing cans and baggies of snacks and pushing them into the large pocket of your hoodie. Your cheeks burning as he kept brushing against your stomach with each pass, swallowing softly and turning to look around, see if anybody spotted you before the taller man nudged you, snapping your attention back to him.

"Don't look around, if you look suspicious, they'll look at you in turn." He said softly, grabbing another couple of cans and baggies before filling your pocket, releasing you before he nodded and winked, tapping the side of his nose with humour lighting up his eyes. "Meet me outside the gym in a moment, can't be seen leaving together."

With that he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you wondering what the hell had just happened. But after a few moments, you followed through the crowd, curious as to what he planned on doing with so many snacks and drinks, although from what little you had interacted, he seemed like a pretty funny guy.

You spotted him just outside the gym, staring into a cabinet with his brow furrowed slightly, hands stuck into the pockets of his jeans, thumbs hooked over the outside as you approached, looking curiously inside the cabinet and spotting what he was looking at. For the reunion they'd brought together photos of old clubs and trophies from games and tournaments. You guessed it was to 'relive the best days of their lives'.

One photo stood out to you though, a group of young, scrawny lads in matching t-shirts of various colours. There was a taller guy with dark curly hair and braces that looked like a stiff breeze might topple him over, but he was holding a silver trophy high up with a grin, arm around a significantly taller boy. There was something familiar about him and squinting at the photo through the layers of glass revealed a lithe figure, the start of tattoos peeking from underneath the short sleeve, piercings decorating a tight-lipped smile. Looking back at the man stood next to you and back again, your eyes widened slightly.

"Holy shit, is that you?" Earning a snort and a chuckle, watching him bite at the labret on his lip before smirking at you confidently.

"Have I really changed that much?" He teased, gesturing to the piercings and the all black, just like he appeared in the photo. Although now he was broader, more muscular and you could practically feel the confidence oozing off of him. Shrugging your shoulders, you chewed your lip absently.

"I mean, I would have thought you ditched the piercings at your age. You're not lanky either. More like a dad-bod." Fake pouting as he placed a hand over heart, raising his eyebrows in a way that made your chest tighten for some reason as his lips curled into more of a smile.

"Oh these? I just put them back in when I might run into pretty college girls. And you watch your mouth about the dad-bod. I heard girls your age like DILFs." He teased, watching your cheeks flush and your eyes snap away temporarily, enjoying teasing you and playing around with somebody so young and trying to find their rebellious feet. He remembered being like you, and he was glad he'd maintained that fire into his more mature self.

"What kind of porn level logic is that?" You sputtered out, crossing your arms and huffing to get a stray strand of hair out of your face. Uncrossing them after a moment before reaching into the hoodie pocket and pulling out a soda can, cracking it open and beginning to walk off, hearing his footsteps follow behind you with a slight scowl over your shoulder at him.

"If you're going to run off, makes sense to keep me with you, at least then you can pretend to be giving me a tour."

"You fucking went here, you should know your way around, or has some metal made it into your brain?" Rolling your eyes, flushing as he easily reached into your hoodie and pulled out another can, fingers brushing your stomach once again before he fell into step, your legs having to move faster to keep up with his long languid strides.

"Ooo, so original! You almost made my lip quiver with your meanness." Laughing as he bumped into you slightly, looking around the hall and taking in how much the decorations had changed. Rolling his eyes at the motivational posters that seemed to permanently reside on the white walls, wondering what happened to the small row of thin lockers that used to live in an alcove along the west wall. "Says the baby with virgin skin." He threw back, making you scowl at him in disapproval.

"How do you know what I look like under this hoodie? I could be covered enough to set off a metal detector and you would never know." You countered, watching his smile grow before he leaned in as he walked, slightly conspiratorial.

"You know, most punks like to show off their art. Tattoos, piercings, clothes. You'd have shown me by now if you had anything." His close, deep voice made you shiver, clearing your throat as you looked at the hall walls, realising you'd subconiously been heading towards the engineering department as you'd walked. Groaning as you remembered all the projects you should be working on.

Turning to your left, you kept quiet, allowing the tall man to trail behind you and finish his drink before he threw it into the trash nearby, pumping his fist silently to himself as he got it in from a good distance away. You secretly smiled at the image, wondering how he could continue to be so childish. Stealing snacks. Throwing things into bins from a distance.

Your hand landed on the door to your workshop before you even knew what you were doing, fishing into your jeans and pulling out a ring of keys, unlocking the door and breathing deeply as the scent of soldering irons and copper hit you. Nodding your head into the room as the man looked in curiously.

"If you're going to hang about, don't touch shit. You probably wouldn't understand half the stuff going on in here." Scoffing as you went in first, hearing his footsteps slowly entering behind you as you paced over to your project cabinet, unlocking it and pulling out a complex set of wires and metal bars and rings.

Kicking out a stool and emptying your pockets onto a free space on the table so you could sit more comfortably. He took a seat at the same table and peered curiously at what you were working on after a quick glance around. Whilst the workshop hadn't changed much, the sight of new projects scattered around at various stages of completion made him feel right at home again. Reminded somewhat of his old workshop at Freddy's before the company had gotten too big for just him and Henry to work on the animatronics alone. Now the biggest project yet 'the pizzaplex' was set to open in two months, and he had to admit, he missed the small little cramped space of Fredbear's diner when he and Henry had shared a single office with security.

Your slender fingers worked deftly as you tried to nudge wires and tense wire coils into place, swearing under your breath as you began to feel too warm in the hoodie. You always felt warm whilst concentrating, plus you needed to clear your arms for testing again. Gripping the bottom of your hoodie and pulling it over your body before chucking it over another seat. Revealing a tight tank-top underneath, one of the straps falling off of your shoulder and making William swallow as his eyes instinctually ran across the curves of your shoulders and collarbones.

"What are you working on?" He broke the silence, distracting himself as he furrowed his brow, trying to work out what was so familiar about the structure your hands tinkered with. Strand of hair falling into your face and you tried to huff it away from your forehead as you glanced at him.

"It's just a proto-type. Nothing special." Feeling suddenly embaressed about the project, brow furrowing as you noticed one of the springs out of place and using a thin hooked tool to pull it back into place again. Nose scrunching up as you took a deep breath and studied it carefully, checking for any more flaws.

"Prototypes are important, they help you find all the flaws in your designs. Maybe a second pair of eyes might be able to look over it for you?" He asked, holding out his hand in offer with a kind smile, meeting your concerned frown before you tenderly handed it over. Reluctant to give over your work that you had spent so long on, although it was more personal to you, you didn't want to have it all ruined in a moment because of somebody else's carelessness.

"Just be careful okay? It's important to me. Don't make me get the shop safety poster and make you test on it." You threatened playfully, earning a smile as his eyes sparked with mirth. Carefully turning over the device in his large hands with surprising care and diligence, humming quietly as he moved it under the lights to get a good look at it.

"Don't remind me. I had a habit of falling short on the marks on that damn test every year, probably because Mr. Schmidt hated my guts for dicking around in shop." He chuckled, making you raise an eyebrow as he revealed he used to be part of the shop. Feeling curiosity burn in your chest as suddenly you felt a tiny bit more confident in letting him handle your project.

"You used to - OH MY GOD!" Your thought was cut off as he suddenly perked up and slipped his hand between the rings and wires on his non-tattooed arm, making the colour drain from your face as his fingers became tangled into place along the more delicate parts at the end. He looked fascinated as he moved and flexed his hand, turning it this was and that to get a proper look, circling his wrist as you began to hyper-ventilate slightly.

"I thought I recognised some of this.... Is this a springlock?" He asked, perfectly calm as he flexed and checked movement for a moment more before disconnecting from the framework easily. Your heart pounding in your chest as you stared at the mechanical suit arm on the desk, wondering what had just happened.

"I think.. you may have failed the shop safety tests for different reasons." Breathing heavy as your hands snatched it up again, performing a quick safety check before placing it down again. Running a hand over your hair and feeling your hands tremble slightly. "And..yeah... it's a springlock design, V2.4 currently...Holy shit you just..."

William chuckled and showed off his arm under the light, brushing some of the coarse dark hair on his forearm so that you could make out the deep, pale scars that ran up the skin that you hadn't noticed before. Eyes widening as you showed off the same arm, your own matching scars more pink than his, from your own springlock incident three months previous during your first testing phase.

"I'm very familiar with them, as you can see. But I'm very impressed! If type I'm familiar with had been handled that roughly, I would have had myself a few more scars and a nice trip to the emergency room." He chuckled, smiling brightly, offering his large calloused hand for you to cautiously shake.

"I never introduced myself. I'm William, William Afton."

Your jaw dropped as you felt your grip on the handshake faulter. Brain turning over the name over and over again as you struggled to comprehend who was sat across from you.

"Y-You're...Oh my god you're...you're actually him aren't you?" Breathing hitched as you watched the smirk on his face reappear at your realisation, nodding slowly and releasing your softer hand to watch them cover your face as you groaned into your palms. "I've been insulting William Afton...I...Shit I've insulted you." Feeling as if the earth could swallow you up and consume you would be a preferable option to meeting your hero and having him look at your work.

"I thought it was quite cute actually. You're such a baby punk...Hmm..There's got to be a better name for that.. Bunny punk? Yeah, bunny punk, you're all soft and cute, stamping your foot like a little bunny rabbit and trying to appear tough." Your reddening cheeks almost becoming their own heat source as he smirked at you, resting his chin against his hand as he glanced over you again.

"I'm not...I'm not a 'bunny punk', Mr. Afton." Your cheeks burned as he sucked on his teeth for a moment, looking you over before he grinned again, your chest sent fluttering as that smile seemed to radiate confidence and an almost predatory nature to it.

"You're very right young lady...You're just a little bunny aren't you? I think that's what I'll call you, bunny." his smile broke and he stuck his tongue out at you, making your body ache slightly as you realised he had a silver stud on his tongue, such a cute nickname combined with your idol sat across from you looking all too hot with his piercings in flustering you all the more.

"Sir, I-"

"Wow, that's something usually only my employees or pretty ladies in bed call me. You're bold aren't you, bunny?" William couldn't hold back the teasing as you grew increasingly flustered, cheeks burning up and the flush spreading down to your collarbones. The way your shoulders curled in allowing him to see a dark mark against your shoulder blade, piquing his interest more as he stood up, walking behind you and his large hand resting on your back, feeling how you tensed up as he studied the lines of the tattoo against your skin.

"You were right, I really had no idea what was hiding under that hoodie of yours." Chuckling as he felt the goose bumps along your skin forming under his finger. He swore he could almost feel how quickly your heart beat inside your chest as he placed his hand between your shoulders. "But-" he pulled his hand away and leaned onto the desk next to you, forcing you to turn your head up and look at him. Lips parted softly, making him ache at how deliciously under-prepared for him you looked. Wondering how far he would be able to push the flirting and the teasing before you ran from him.

"Mr. Afton, I... I have admired your work for a very long time." The words were slow to fall from your lips, trying to force yourself to be polite and ignore the part of your brain that was screaming in delight at how he touched your back, how your celebrity crush flirted with you and made you feel special.

It wasn't helpful that your brain kept suggesting to you how that lip and tongue piercing would feel kissing you, or running against another pair of lips that desperately wanted attenton.

"I used to go to Freddy's when I was little. That's when I fell in love with robotics honestly." You breathed, watching his expression turn to surprise as his eyebrows raised, watching the way the eyebrow piercing caught the light before you turned your eyes to his tattoos. Finally seeing the design on the inside of his arm was a knife, mixed into the biomechanical designs that dominated the arm. "I think I met you once back then, although I don't think you had any piercings."

"I took them out in the restaurant, well, apart from a couple more....private...ones." He smiled, listening to you talk as he felt his body aching more as you stroked his ego. He might have been many things, but able to resist somebody offering him praise and idolisation wasn't one of them. "Go on, bunny."

"I found an article about the springlocks, and the designs were just..beautiful. The engineering? The design? How such complex machinery could be fitted into such a small space, it was entrancing." Feeling your heart beating faster as his grey eyes focused on you intensely, shuddering under his intensity. "So I wanted to continue the project. I was..I guess I was hoping you were still into engineering and I hoped that I could maybe recreate the spring-bonnie suit that I loved so much." Nervous babbling coming to an end as he gazed at you, a grin spreading up his face as he looked down at you.

"Spring-bonnie was my suit in particular actually." The fact made your heart only pound faster, flustering yourself all over again that you didn't know such a simple fact. All those chaotic thoughts pausing as he raised his hand and caught your chin, forcing you to look at him as he ran his tongue against his lip. "You did all this work, for me?"

"Y-Yes sir."

"What a good girl you are. Would you like a reward?" William's voice was calm and controlled, but inside he was feeling a little feral. Such a cute thing having devoted her entire career to following his work, recreating the work she loved, wanting to gift it back to him. It stoked a dark, hungry fire in him and suddenly he was back in college himself, the punk that made ladies swoon as he bit his piercing at them, with all the charm and suave that age had brought him.

The tiny nod of your head was all he needed to lean in, his lips brushing yours, barely ghosting them before they met yours fully. A soft squeak escaping you as it caught you slightly by surprise. The cold metal of his lip ring down the centre line of your lip contrasting to how hot he felt against your lips. Moving together slowly at first before your tongue ran across his lip and William growled deeply in his chest, parting his lips and pushing his tongue into your mouth. One hand moving to the back of your head and pressing you into it, allowing him to dominate your mouth, the feeling of his stud meeting your tongue sending shivers down your spine.

Finally the kiss broke, leaving you breathless, a silver strand of saliva connecting your lips before William licked his lips and broke it. Grinning widely at you, you swore his eyes almost looked black in the lights of the workshop before he handed your hoodie back to you, making you pause for a moment in confusion, perhaps a little hurt before he spoke.

"You're going to put that back on, bunny. We're going to grab our stuff, and then we're going to go to your dorm or where-ever the fuck your bed is. I think you deserve an extra special thank you for being such a dedicated volunteer tonight." The words made you light up, nodding enthusiastically, throwing on your hoodie and allowing him to stuff some of the snacks and drinks back into your pockets, more opening shivering as his thick fingers brushed against you through the fabric. Swallowing softly as he also picked up the springlock arm and cradled it in his hands with a grin as you raised a curious eyebrow.

"Come on then, bunny. Lead the way." Letting you lead the way out of the workshop and locking up behind yourself before he followed shortly behind you, watching the way your body moved hungrily as he imagined stripping you bare for him and considered how pretty you might look naked in his own workshop.

[house-of-kolchek]

Dress (18+)

Leon Kennedy x Reader

gif is not mine but I'm still obsessed with it.

@chaosandbubbles I take your Taylor Swift prompt and raise you: "But what if it was angsty?"

Pls be nice I wrote this and did not edit it :')

Word Count: 3.3k

“Leon.”

He turned, clearing his throat, eyes searching for the familiar face belonging to that voice. You greeted him with a smile, your eyes bright as they found his. Leon grinned back, taking a few steps towards you, and stopping to look you up and down.

“You look great!” He reached a hand out, offering assistance in getting up to the stairs. A perfect gentleman.

Your ears burned, your cheeks growing pink, and you hoped that either your makeup, your hair, or the dim lighting of the hall would be enough to hide it from the man as you hooked your arm around his, allowing him to lead you into the party.

Leon himself was dressed very well, just toeing the line of appropriate for a work event. He was in a fully black suit, rather than the usual navy and white set he sported in the white house. His silky button down was open, showing off the skin of his collarbones, leading down to the first hints of his chest. 

It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before, but it still had you practically buzzing. 

“New dress?” Leon whispered as you made your way into the crowded banquet hall. The interior was lit in a dark wood, creating a warm, inviting aura. “I haven’t seen that one in the rotation before.” 

You nodded, deciding against elaborating any further. The woman at the shop had complimented your appearance when you tried it on the week before, noting that it was just perfect for the occasion. The slit along the side rode up to your mid-thigh, exposing the strength in your legs and the flash of the complimentary heel you’d chosen. The dress made you feel strong. You would even dare to say it made you feel sexy. 

Leon’s gaze hadn’t left yours, and you found yourself stuck in it. You’d found yourself caught in looks like this more recently. The softness in his gaze, the flicker of movement in his focus that was so quick you’d convince yourself you’d only imagined it. His looks like those made you feel special, like you were the only thing he was seeing.

And at the same time, his arm broke away from yours. 

Your smile barely faltered, and you stayed put as Leon travelled throughout the room. In all technicalities, this was a work event, and so you found yourself seated at a random table with some other agents you recognized.

Taking a seat beside Ingrid, you greeted her with a smile, blushing as she raved over your dress. Idle conversation passed between the group, and you remained generally silent, listening in and chuckling at all the right moments. It was quiet enough and only slightly boring.

“What’s this whole gala celebration for, anyways?” one coworker of yours - Beth - asked. Her cheeks were rosy, clearly having been through a few drinks at that point. Ingrid pushed a glass of water in her direction. 

“To recognize the accomplishments and importance of all the DSO agents,” she recited, remaining fairly monotone. You couldn’t help the snicker building in the back of the throat. Even Ingrid thought this was stupid - and that was saying something.

That itchy feeling of being watched washed over you suddenly, and you drifted away from the conversation. Lifting your head, you swerved back and forth until the offending pair of eyes were found.

Leon was standing in another group, all while his eyes remained focused on you. It was clear he was ignoring every word, as his lips twitched, and he flicked his fingers to the side in one of the ‘secret gestures’ you’d come up with over the years. Nodding your head, you watched his grin widen before he excused himself from the conversation.

It didn’t take long for him to arrive at your table with a drink in either hand. You took your designated cocktail from him, offering your thanks and stealing a sip of his whiskey. Leon rolled his eyes, moving to elbow you softly in the side, though you dodged away at the last minute. As you turned to face him again, you noticed his eyes flicker back up, from where they had been studying… something. 

You raised a playful brow, willing the onslaught of heat to stay away from your face. It didn’t listen.

“How many of those have you had?” you asked, walking with Leon across the room. The conversations were starting to exhaust you, and you hadn’t even been present for an hour. You took a generous sip of your drink, allowing the gentle burn of the alcohol to warm your throat. 

“This is only my second, mom,” he teased. You raised your hand up in surrender, before poking him in the side. It was easy, poking fun at each other and sharing those closer, tender moments that others wouldn’t even dream of. 

As the night dragged on, Leon drifted between your side and a few feet away. You lost count of the mindless conversations, the bored jokes from the other employees who didn’t want to be there either. You had only made it through your second drink, glancing over to notice that your friend was on the tail end of his fourth.

He seemed a bit more loose - as loose as Leon Kennedy could get at least. Some of the smiles, the laughs he shared with other guests seemed even genuine. It was a pleasant sight to see, one that others didn’t get very often. Genuine, carefree smiles like that were even an uncommon occurrence with you.

You hummed as Leon’s hand found your back, gently interrupting your conversation. It drifted lower as he settled beside you, forcing some of the breath from your lungs. In that moment, you wondered if he knew the reactions he elicited from you, if it was a game, a sign, or if he was just innocent and clueless. 

You didn’t get the chance to find out, as another man in a suit bumped into Leon’s arm, sending the last few sips of his drink spilling out of his glass, and straight onto your dress.

“Hey!” Leon snapped, turning to reprimand the offender as you muttered a silent curse, taking in the darkening amber stain against the pale fabric of your dress. Leon was quick to notice the stain as well, letting out a curse of his own as he searched for a napkin.

“Shit - I’m sorry.” Your name fell from his lips, his focus on removing the stain until you rested a palm on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, Leon. I can just get it dry cleaned,” you soothed, and he stopped his ministrations, though there was still a furrow in his brow. You glanced around the room, taking in the thinning crowd. “I think I’m ready to take off anyways. Are you good to drive?”

Leon paused for a moment, and you could see the gears turn in his head as he contemplated his level of sobriety. 

“Probably not,” he admitted, letting out a weak chuckle. At least he was honest. You shook your head, bidding your coworker a quick goodbye and making your way towards the exit doors. 

“C’mon, you can crash at mine.”

Leon followed behind you, muttering a quiet thanks as you lead him to your vehicle. It wasn’t the first time you’d let him sober up at your place overnight, though it was nice to see that he wasn’t overly drunk. He still seemed to have his wits about him.

Though he did seem particularly fond of staring at you while you drove.

“What is it?” You sent a glance to him from the corner of your eye. His gaze finally flickered away, towards the oncoming road as his lips pursed together. He seemed to be deeply in thought, and you glanced towards him a few more times before you stopped anticipating an answer.

You weren’t too far from your house, anyways.

“I’m really sorry about your dress,” he said again, and a quick glance confirmed he was looking at you again. You sighed.

“I promise, it’s okay.”

Leon was quiet, but his brows were twitching and there was a small frown on his face, as if he was truly upset about something. After a moment, you let out another breath. Maybe it was the way he’d been staring at you through the car ride, or at the gala. Maybe it was the little bit of alcohol in your own system. Or maybe it was just this build up of feelings you felt towards your friend of many years. The man who’d kept you sane, been alongside you at every achievement and fall.

“I only got this dress for you anyways.”

As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you begged God to return them. The silence felt loud, your clipped breathing turning into what felt like a scream. 

“What do you mean?” Leon asked, his voice was low, growing raspy. Conveniently, you’d just arrived at your home, and you pulled the car into the driveway before you could meet his eye.

Were you really about to admit your feelings for the man? In the car, clad in a stained dress that you’d bought purely in hopes of silently catching his attention?

“You’re my best friend…” your words were tight, the rest of them dying on your tongue as you met his gaze. He was looking so intently at you, blinking slowly, his own mouth moving as if he were running a list of thoughts through his head. 

And maybe he understood the words unsaid, because the next thing you knew, he was kissing you.

…

Leon had seen your room before. Many times, even. In the years you’d known each other, grown closer, Leon had seen nearly every aspect of your life. He’d seen your hungover mornings, your nightmares and your raging bedhead as you searched for coffee. He’d seen you fall apart and pick up the pieces to put yourself back together. Leon had spent many nights on your couch, even in your bed - on opposite ends with at least two pillows stuffed between you two. 

But Leon had never been in your bed like this before. Not with a lusty look in his eyes and his shirt split open to the last button. He propped himself on his elbows, watching as you kicked your heels to the corner of your room. By the time you’d made it to the foot of the bed, he was sitting up, gathering the skirt of your dress and bunching it upwards as he wrapped his arms around your lower back. 

“God, this dress. It’s driving me fucking crazy,” he whispered against your jaw. You had no time to be concerned by the slur between each word as his mouth found yours, capturing your lips in the messiest, sexiest kiss you’d ever received.

Your hands flew around his neck, streaking up into his hair. He hissed between your lips as you tangled your fingers between the darkening strands, scratching against his scalp and tugging at the ends. His teeth tugged on your bottom lip, his tongue briefly meeting yours before his kisses fell back to the corner of your jaw.

Leon pulled you forward, and you all but fell into his lap, the unexpected motion causing you to tug particularly hard at his hair. His head snapped back, but he made no indication of any pain. He merely groaned, tilting his head before he moved to suck a harsh mark into the side of your throat.

“Fuuuuck,” you breathed, letting your hands slide down over his shoulders, resting against his biceps. You felt them flex as his hands slid further up your back, dragging the fabric of your dress with it.

“Arms up,” he growled, and you listened. There was a brief loss of contact as the dress was pulled over your head, and as your arms fell back down to his shoulders, you couldn’t keep the blush from dusting across your cheeks. You opened your eyes, waiting to see Leon’s reaction.

But his gaze wasn’t on your breasts, your panties, or even the exposed skin of your stomach. His eyes were on yours, a little bit glossy and heavy with lust, but they held that glimmer; the softness that had been skipping your heartbeats for months, years.

You heard the fabric pile to the floor, and Leon’s warm hands rested on either side of your ribcage. And then he leaned forward to kiss you - gentle and warm compared to the searing ones he’d been offering to you all evening.

And only after that did his attention finally fall to your chest. His gaze darkened again, growing even hungrier than before as he wrapped one arm around you, using the other to brace the weight as he spun you to land on your back against the sheets. He leaned back, finally shedding the button down and offering you a moment to just look at him, clad in nothing but messy hair and a pair of black dress pants. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him back to the bed.

Leon fell over you, supporting his weight on his forearms as his lips attached to your collarbone. He left a mark just under the bone, trailing his lips downwards until he reached your breast. He ran his tongue flat against one perked nipple, tweaking it with his fingers before giving the other the same treatment. One of your hands returned to his hair, the other reaching under his arm to run your fingers along the strong muscles in his back. 

He dropped his hips, grinding his core against yours and drawing a gasp from your lips. Your sounds only seemed to spur him on, as he repeated the motion, his lips faltering on your breast as a ragged moan cut through his throat. Instinctively, you drew him closer, meeting his hips, and digging his face further into your skin.

With a growl, Leon bit down on the spot just above your breast. You whined, throwing your head back into the sheets. His hand traced down the length of your abdomen, teasing at the skin of your waist, the line of your panties, until finally, two fingers circled your clit through the fabric. You let out a long breath as his tongue prodded against your skin, your senses catching as he pushed the fabric of your underwear aside to trace along your entrance. 

“You’re such a tease,” you murmured against his cheek as he leaned up to kiss you again. You felt his grin on your jaw as one finger curled into you, wasting no time in prodding against that rough spot within you. You rolled against his hand, your clit brushing against the heel of his palm as he snuck another finger in, twisting and curling them together until you were panting, breaths hitching in your throat. 

Leon’s breathy laugh warmed your throat, as his lips traced and sucked deep marks into your skin. Your grip fell to his shoulders, digging your nails in which each curl of his fingers. Your hips jerked to meet his hand, driving yourself further into a pleasure-seeking daze. 

You muttered his name, and Leon tilted his head up to look at you. The lighting was dim, but you could still see the glassy, dazed look in his eyes. His gaze flickered across your face, landing on your parted lips, before his thumb curled against your clit, and you threw your head back as your release washed over you. 

Leon looked absolutely drunk on you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, his hand stuttering in its movements before finally pulling away from your core. With a whine, you curled further into him, brushing the top of your thigh against the front of his pants. He groaned, his teeth sinking into the corner of his lip as you traced your hands from his shoulders, down along his solid chest. You traced the ridges of his abs, your stomach twisting again at the hard edges in his muscles - you’d seen Leon shirtless countless times before, but never had you been able to appreciate his dips and curves in his kind of way.

His patience seemed to fall apart at the seams, because the next thing you knew he was bucking against your thigh, digging his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. He reached for his belt, freeing the buckle with a surprising swiftness and shimmying straight out of his pants.

“Can I?” he breathed against your neck. He was already prodding against your entrance, running the tip along your folds, your clit. With a gasp, you nodded, and he groaned. “Use your words, baby.”

Baby.

“Fuck- Just do it already!” you whined, and he wasted no more time in entering you.

Leon started with shallow thrusts, inching in deeper until he finally went flush against you. With a long exhale, he stalled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, and based on the scrunch in his brows, to hold himself back from the edge he was teetering on. And then he fell over you, caging you in between his forearms, and his hips started moving again. 

Your senses were full - almost too full - because it was Leon. It was Leon and he was looking at you like the rest of the world meant nothing, and his lips were brushing against your shoulder and he was with you in the most intimate way. 

And you let out a breath in his ear that sounded a lot like a confession.

—

When you opened your eyes, your senses felt like they were fuzzy. It took a moment to fully recollect the events from the night before. A stain on your dress, Leon unable to drive home, the sight of his clothes falling to the floor.

An arm tightened around your waist, bare and incredibly warm. 

You felt Leon’s steady breaths against your hair, his nose digging between the strands. One of his legs was tangled between yours, and his also bare chest was flush against your back. He was still asleep, muttering incoherent gibberish under his breath as he seemed to snuggle further into your form. And it felt amazing.

You stayed unmoving and quiet in that position for a long few moments, your mind going over and over the night before, until Leon’s breath stuttered as he fell out of his slumber.

Your eyes were still closed when Leon shifted, a quiet grunt catching in his throat as he stretched. With your back to him, you could only hear the sharp intake of breath, feel the way his fingers brushed against your arm.

You heard the silent “Fuck,” under his breath.

There was something in that word, something with more substance. It was strained and low as if he was fighting against something. It sounded like that time he approached the president, laced with guilt over the bad news he was about to share. It reminded you of the time he’d really fucked up. Admitting to you how he’d thrown himself needlessly into a firefight, almost losing his life in the process. That guilt in his voice had your heart plummeting into your stomach. So you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t move, regulating your breathing to the best of your ability.

Leon sucked in a breath, gently detangling his arms and legs from your own, and snapping the threads of your heart with them. You felt the soft structure of a pillow against your back as his warmth left the bed, and the sheets fell flat beside you. There was a flurry of steps around the room, another whispered curse. A short rustling of clothes and the ring of his belt. 

Another long, pensive breath.

You stayed firm. You didn’t open your eyes until you heard the soft click of your bedroom door shutting.

And you didn’t hear from Leon for six weeks.

@obsessedwithtoomanythings hi I love you

[entering--hyperspace]

Tribune Echowatcher (Ls1)

My design musings below

Literally only doing this bc I love Leo soooo so so so so so so much. I also in general just love character design So!

1st. I Know I wanted to push the limits of what Charr Look like, I know theyre big ""cats"" but whenever I design ocs I like to push boundaries and play with what aesthetic restrictions exist.

Hyenas came to me (i think, it was 6 years ago when I originally made him so my memory is foggy) because I saw Hyenas around Ascalon and thought, what a fun concept to play with.

I knew I really wanted the very clear shape of hyena ears to stay while also keeping the charr 2 ears, my only choice was to kind of shift the horn placement around. You can see that his ears cover half of the horns, and that theyre a further back on his head in general asba result. I really didnt want to limit myself with the shape of charr ears bc even though I love them, having a character with very clear rounded Hyena ears was too charming of a concept for me to drop.

2. I inverted the colors of a Hyena! Hyena cubs are actually born with black fur and then get a lighter shade as they grow as with many animals, but I thought it would just be a fun way to play with a more unique color scheme, a primary black/gray fur with orange highlights than simply keeping a more realistic and usual color pallet.

3. Spotted Hyenas have some shaggy fur! Its so cute! Its thinner around the neck which I thought was another key feature of the animal that I wanted to translate onto Leo.

4. His armor is definitely not what I consider to be super unique, I needed a ls1-HoT quick armor to draw him in, so I just threw shapes together. I did however want to keep his color coded: Green. Originally I was trying to find some huge complimentary color to add to his outfit but realized that the orange of his mane and spots was already complimentary enough that adding a different color or more to his outfit would feel like Too much. Thus I went with homogenous green/blues and silver for the metal color.

5. His nose...his head shape...his more "Canine" Features I guess are just huge charmpoints to me. Yes this is me just gushing about my love for my own character but if you clicked read more thats ur own doing. Ive said this before but Leo is Heavily Mexican coded, this plays into both his design and lore in a lot of ways.

Xolotl is the Nahuatl god of death, hes a dog! Dogs being a bit of a symbolism for companions in the afterlife and guides was really important to me, so its why I do really adore what canine features Leo does have (I know Hyenas arent canines but you can see the same kind of shapes.)

Id gush more but thats the big ones....

Leo became a Tribune of the Blood Legion, because bangar wanted one of his own reporting back on the growing power of the Pact and the Pact Commander that was less of a loose canon than Rytlock, especially as theyre investigating draconic threats with the underlying ulterior motive. For now, hes playing along.

[nellielsss]

ɢᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɪʀ ᴅᴏɴᴇ, ɴᴀɪʟꜱ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ!

╰┈➤ A new outfit and your Fendi shoes ᡣ𐭩

For when your man sees you after you ran your "errands," AKA getting a blowout, mani-pedi, and anything else you might've needed done. Who is he to resist when his chick looks so good? (Songfic inspired by Jumpin' Jumpin' by Destiny's Child.) Toji Fushiguro/Zen'in x transfem!reader (pre-Mamagumi because you are Mamagumi) Includes: Toji Fushiguro (might add more chars later! this is just me testing the waters)

╰┈➤ It's a well known fact that Toji Zen'in doesn't come from a whole lot of money (well, he does; he was just abused and kicked out by said money), but that was never an issue for the man when it came to making it. He could earn plenty of money other ways such as taking up odd jobs, carrying out bounties, etc. So when he started dating your high maintenance self, he knew he'd have to up his earnings in order to provide for you (partner lemme Upgrade U). He's a simple man after all - why wouldn't he wanna provide for you, even if it was just by giving you a few hundred dollars to run your errands? Quite possibly the only thing that he kept from his family was his provider mentality. Never again would he see someone close to him suffer or starve because of his shortcomings.

Hearing the car pull into the lot, Toji knew it was you when you came home from the music that he could hear through the walls—that infectious late 90s beat creeping through his veins. He paused the MMA fight he was watching, turning around as the door hinges creaked open.

"Tojiii, I’m home!" you sang from the doorway, putting your keys away in your cute little Dior saddle (the one Toji got you after saving up several paychecks). Toji walked over with a big grin on his face, encircling his arms around your body out of habit. "Uh-uh, don't touch the hair just yet," you piped up, putting your hands in front of him to stop him from getting too close to you and potentially ruining your perfect hair.

Toji couldn't help but let out a laugh and shake his head. "C'mon, doll, just lemme give you a kiss," he said in that deliciously raspy voice of his. You reluctantly obliged, letting him put his hands on your hips, pull you in for a kiss, and sigh into it. "Now, let's see those nails of yours," he added with a big grin on his face, taking both of your hands and holding them up.

He let out a low whistle. "Damn, baby, that's a good manicurist ya got there. I should give them a big fat tip for keeping my girl so cute." The design in question were pink, blue & yellow nails with some hibiscus flowers & a cute little anime reference here & there (insert your fav Shōjo)—a perfect set for the summertime.

You let out a giggle, pulling your hands back and laughing at him. "Okay, okay, you can touch the hair," you relented, turning your head for extra effect.

"Right, the perfect hair that you don't wanna fuck up” he murmured, shaking his head. "I'm like a bull in a china shop, eh?"

"Yeah, 'cus you're a big brute," you snarked, making him smack you on the ass out of jest. He was a brute, but he knew how to be careful around you. "Nah, but for real, doll, you look fuckin' fantastic," he said in a more serious yet complimentary tone. "That bounce in your hair makes you look mighty fine."

You allowed him to run his hands through your silky, freshly-washed hair, reveling in the way his fingers felt on your scalp. "Feels even better with ol’ Toji’s fingers in it, yeah? I could touch this shit alll day long." He put his hands up when you shot him a look at that statement. "Or... for as long as you'll let me."

His hands left your scalp, only to trail down your cheek, all the way onto your chin. "Can I kiss you, princess?"

"Mhm," you murmured, bringing a scarred smile to his handsome face. He leaned in, giving you a slower, more passionate kiss than before.

"Fuck... y'lip gloss tastes so yummy," he murmured against your lips. "I can't get enough of you, y'know baby? My pretty little princess... I should show you off when you get all this shit done, make everyone 'round the block jealous."

"I was actually gonna go out with my friends later today," you piped up, pulling away slightly. "I was listening to Jumpin' Jumpin' earlier, and it made me wanna go out."

Toji didn't look disappointed at this news; rather, his smile widened. "Yeah? You havin' a girls' night?" He asked, eyebrows raised slightly. You nodded, shooting him another smile.

"Y'know, blowouts last a few days, especially when they're done by a real professional like the one I've been going to for six years. Plus, I know how to upkeep it on my own."

Toji chuckled, shaking his head. "I knew those hair products were for somethin'. Nah, I'm not upset or anything, baby; I'm happy for you—happy that you've got a nice group of girls to hangout with. You deserve it all, sweetheart. The cute outfits, the fun friends; and the sexy boyfriend of 'yers." He couldn't help but reach out and grab your jaw softly, rubbing it and eliciting a big, blushy smile from you. "Aww, would you look at that pretty smile? Love it when you smile like that. I don’t get why you used to be so insecure ‘bout it."

You pulled away once again, not wanting it to go any longer and lead to anything too sweaty. "I promise I'll come right back home afterwards. I won't give any random guys an opportunity to shoot their shot with me," you reassured him. "Y'know, I think you might've domesticated me in a way, Toji. I'm always looking forward to coming home to you after everything's said and done."

"Yeah?" he asked again, amused by your admission. "Well I'm glad, baby. We go together real well, hm?" He couldn't resist the urge to pull you in with both of his arms around your waist, nuzzling his lips into your neck. "I'm already looking forward to your homecoming, princess. I wanna feel those nails raking up and down my back."

"Toji, stop!" You said with a giggle. "You're gonna flatten my hair at this rate." "Oh, yeah? Y'know, even with flat hair, you'd still be the prettiest girl in the room. To me at least." Toji left one last kiss on your neck before letting you go, watching as you picked up the shopping bags on the floor.

"I need to go... put these clothes away before they wrinkle," you said, struggling to balance all the bags on your arms.

"Please, lemme help you," he said, grabbing the bags for you and carrying them to your shared room. He pushed the door open, carrying the bags as if they were light as air, setting them down outside of the closet. "I dunno know why you buy all that stuff if you can barely carry it. What would you do without your boyfriend?" he asked cockily.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head just a little. "Thanks, baby," you said gratefully, pressing a kiss to Toji's cheek.

"Anytime." He eyed the bags curiously, wondering what could possibly be inside of them. A new pair of Manolos? A new dress? He would never admit it, but he loved it when you shopped and bought new things. You always had impeccable taste, and he adored the way you put yourself together. "So, doll," he finally said after mustering up the courage. "Mind letting me see what you got?"

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆ Mini-skip

Toji made sure that you made good on your word that night regarding trying out your nails. He didn't waste a single time welcoming you home after your girls' night out, taking you right up to your shared bedroom with a grin on his face, sloppily kissing up your neck and peeling off your dress.

Right now? He was all but plowing you into the mattress, as he always did when he fucked your brains out. "Fuck, baby," he growled, looking down at you as he made sweet, sweet love to you. "You always look so... fuckin' good underneath me like this, but that blowout just adds the finishing touch. Even if your... hair's all fucked up, I'll take you to the salon for another one."

You, meanwhile, weren't able to process what he was muttering into your ear. You probably couldn't even discern if he was calling you a whore or asking you to marry him; it just felt so good.

"Fuck, oh, fucking fuck, T-Toji!" You moaned into his ear, moaning and writhing about underneath the big brute's frame.

Toji let out a breathless chuckle at your incoherent babbling. "Never heard you say 'fuck' so many times in one sentence - maybe I could make you say it a few more times!"

He readjusted the angle at which he was snapping his hips into your ass, fucking you even deeper as if that could even be possible. "Feel my dick inside of ya? Rearranging your guts? Shiiit, doll, take it like you mean it. Gonna stuff ya full of my fucking cum, you won’t be able to strut 'yer shit anymore,” he drawled, slapping your jiggly ass with his calloused fingers.

He picked up on the way that you were holding onto him, your hands gripping the muscles that lined his broad back. "Such a bully," you whimpered, "quit bullyin' me, Toji! Y’know I can’t take it when you- you pound me like this!!" You complained, tears welling up in your eyes. He let out a laugh at your pleas, cooing into your ear. "C'mon, baby; I'd never bully you. I don't think bullying involves making you cum over and over again now, does it?" He cocked his head, smiling like a devil at the sight of you so fucked out because of just a few hip movements. "Besides, you know how to take it. I’ve trained you to take this dick. Remember how you could barely move when we first started dating? Shit, I'm the best tutor there is.”

After a few more huffs and strokes of the cock, he asked: “Why don't you... drag those nails down my back, yeah? Leave a few marks on my muscles?"

You eagerly obliged, raking your nails up and down his muscled back. "Yeah, that's it, there you go, my sweet baby. Make my back fuckin' bleed baby girl," he praised, purring into your ear. He threw his head back, the slightly painful scratching making him even harder and hornier (as if that was even possible).

He threw his head back then looked back down at you. "I'm gonna fuck you 'til my back's bloodier than a mary."

Suffice to say, he loved your nails.

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 6/5/2024

[starwarsmum]

Global Crisis for day 5 ❤️ buckle up for the long fic folks

@maribat-calendar-events

Chat Noir hadn't meant to find out Ladybug's identity. No, really, he was trying to follow her rules, even if he didn't agree with them but…when he had been trying to retrieve baby August’s pacifier from Ladybug, he had seen the pink glow on Marinette's balcony. He had frozen, not wanting her to see him as he peeked through the railing and he was confronted with the fact that the love of his life was his very good friend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

So, yeah, he was a little bit confused, and a lot conflicted about what to do next. He was sure Ladybug and he were soulmates, but he wasn't even sure what Marinette was really like. She behaved so differently around him than she did their friends, and then there was the whole third different behaviour as Ladybug.

But he had sworn that he would love the girl behind the mask, no matter what, so he was going to do his best to woo his good friend soulmate. The first thing he would have to do was talk to Alya and Nino, get them on board with any plans moving forward. Then he would have to start distancing himself from Kagami so that his lady didn't think he was unavailable.

_ _ _ 

Marinette was stressing out. The girls had been haranguing her about Adrien's fifth name’s day for a few weeks and it was now approaching fast. She had stopped writing down every little thing about him, had stopped pre-making presents that would never be given, and she was trying to take training with Master Fu seriously. But every time she thought she'd escaped it, she was pulled back in.

“Lil M!” Marinette jumped when Jagged came into the apartment, trailed by Penny who seemed to be on the phone again. “Hey Rockette, I have a favour to ask from you, but I've gotta say upfront that it's totally rock n roll if you say no.”

“Oh, hey Uncle J,” she said weakly, putting down the rolling pin from her stress baking. “You know I'm usually good for a favour, what do you need? A new album cover, a new jacket…”

“Well, my old friend Bruce is in town and his kids are pretty big fans of mine. A couple of them are obsessed with meeting you, and asked if I could convince you to come to dinner at their hotel?” He had big round eyes trained on her, almost pouting in his bid to get her to say yes.

“Sure thing Jagged,” she said easily, resuming the highly therapeutic mission of rolling out the pie crust. She hummed along agreeably as he told her the details for that evening, as well as piling compliments onto her. She was beginning to get suspicious that the family she was being introduced to was not going to be as delightful as he was making it seem.

When she was done baking - which took even longer because now she had to make macarons for the meal that night - she went upstairs to change into different clothes. She surveyed her wardrobe, pulling and discarding everything until she came across a couple of dresses that she had made when she found out that Jagged was from Gotham, AKA the crime and vigilante capital of the US.

She pulled out a dress inspired by Batgirl, purple with striking yellow details, and one designed after Robin, with muted and complimentary colours as opposed to the train wreck the actual vigilante wore. She debated for several long minutes before deciding that purple was Jagged's colour, so she should wear the red, yellow and green one. 

She checked the time, realised that she was on time for once and grabbed her things. She let Tikki slide into a clutch bag she had made (black with tiny bat symbols embroidered across it), grabbed the cookie boxes and headed out of the door.

_ _ _

Damian was bored. His father had dragged both him and Tim to Paris so that they could do some ‘family bonding’. It was absurd, and he wanted nothing more than to sulk in the room he had been given at the Grand Paris Hotel. Unfortunately, Bruce had already made plans for them that evening with an old schoolmate of his. 

Tim had been pathetically excited that his idol, Jagged Stone, was going to be coming to dinner. The sleep deprived buffoon had immediately started word vomiting about how amazing his music was, and about the designer that Jagged often promoted as the only one allowed to design for him any more.

“Damian, I know that you're not looking forward to this meal,” Bruce sighed, leaning against the door frame just outside of the room. Damian snorted in response, glaring at the suit jacket Tim was insisting he had to wear to impress a world famous designer. “Please, I just want you both to get along this evening. Jagged is an old friend, and his designer is apparently very dear to him. I would like to get to know her and catch up with my friend.”

“Tt, I shall behave myself, father,” Damian grumbled, snatching up the jacket and artfully mussing his hair until it was perfectly nonchalant. “I am going to scout the restaurant and ensure that there are no nasty surprises waiting for us.”

And he was out of the suite before Bruce could protest. He was full of energy, having used the flight to rest adequately, in direct opposition to Tim who had decided that eight hour flights were designed so that he could work uninterrupted by other employees. As he descended the staircase to the main atrium, his eyes snagged on a blonde girl who appeared to be shouting at a smaller Asian girl with black hair.

Knowing that negative emotions could mean an attack from the local villain - see, Drake, he could pay attention - he was about to step in when he eyed what the smaller girl was wearing - and almost stumbled down the stairs. The dress was predominately black, but sheer colored fabric had been used to subtly imbue it with a shimmer of colour. The skirt flared out, catching the light and turning a deep emerald green, the bodice a gorgeous blood red with black embroidered ‘R’s across it. 

To complete the look, she was wearing a hooded jacket that had a yellow lining, not unlike his cape. But the yellow was much subtler than the canary yellow that was traditional for Robin. She was wearing (presumably) thigh high boots that disappeared into the skirt and his heart hammered in his chest painfully. When he finally got a look at her face, which was scrunched into a pretty scowl, he saw that she had done artfully messy, dark makeup, emulating a domino mask whilst still being classy.

He didn't move closer to the girl until the blonde one - Chloé Bourgeois, his mind supplied helpfully - stalked away and the girl with the Robin dress smirked after her. He approached her as she fiddled with the pastry box she was carrying, and tried not to let it show that he was nervous.

“Good evening,” he said smoothly, wondering if he would be fortunate enough to get her name. She hardly glanced at him, pulling out her phone to send a message. He had the feeling that she was using it as an excuse so that she could deter him without having to say anything. “Apologies for the intrusion, but I could not help noticing that you are wearing a dress inspired by Robin, the Gotham vigilante.”

“You recognise it?” She demanded gleefully, abandoning the pretense that she was invested in whatever reply she was awaiting. Her eyes were a startling blue that practically glowed from within the smokey eye makeup, and he had to work extremely hard not to let his breathing stop and give away just how affected he was by this girl.

“Tt, I am from Gotham, Robin is one of the vigilantes there so I would be remiss if I did not recognise his suit,” he replied, praying she didn't think he was insulting her. He didn't know how to do this, he had never wanted to show an interest in another person before. “I did not think that people in Paris were particularly interested in vigilantes, given they have their own heroes.”

“Oh, yeah, I mean generally that's true, I guess? But my uncle is from Gotham so when I found out, I just had to look up more about them. My favourites are Robin, obviously, and Batgirl. But for the colour scheme, I have to say I prefer the original Batgirl’s costume - purple and yellow is so iconic!”

Damian was stunned momentarily, unsure how to take the conversation forward. As it was, he was very close to blushing, which would be extremely odd. But she seemed content to chatter away, gesturing to different parts of the outfit. Sadly, they were interrupted by a man dressed in black and yellow, with purple hair, who launched himself upon the girl.

“Jagged, stop!” The girl whined, a giggle ruining the playful annoyance in her voice. “It was very nice to meet you, monsieur, I'm sorry for talking your ear off about clothes. As my uncle here can attest, I can get a little carried away.”

“Tt, you hardly need apologise, I enjoyed hearing about the stitching technique you used to connect the skirt to the top of your outfit,” Damian said, gaining him an appraising look from the other man. The girl beamed at him, the smile making his insides feel mushy.

“Rock on, Lil M, you already found one of our dinner mates! You are one of Brucie's bunch, right?” The man, apparently Jagged Stone, asked. Damian nodded, realising that the girl he had been speaking to must be the designer that Tim was so obsessed with. “So, which one are you?”

“Damian,” he said, holding his hand out to Jagged to greet him properly. “It is a pleasure to meet you both. My brother, Timothy, is a fan of both of your works.”

“I’m Marinette, it's nice to meet you too,” the girl, Marinette, said when he turned to greet her as well. She ignored his hand in favour of kissing his cheek with une bise, and he felt warmth flood his face. “How lucky that you came over to say hello! I wasn't sure how punctual any friends of Jagged's would be,” she said pointedly, quirking an eyebrow at the man in question.

“Hey, be fair! I'm earlier than Bruce and the rest of his bunch,” Jagged replied, holding a hand to his chest in mock aggravation. “Speaking of which, I'm going to see if I can surprise him in his room, where will I find him, kid?”

Damian recited the room number, amused that Bruce's friend was so exuberant. He turned back to Marinette, fully intending on getting to know her better before the others joined them.

Meanwhile, Marinette was trying to squash the butterflies that were erupting in her stomach. When the boy, Damian, had first approached her she had groaned internally, not wanting to have to politely tell him to leave. But then he had asked about her dress and she couldn't help herself - she had practically bombarded him with everything she was proud of in this particular piece. Which usually has the same outcome as politely telling a guy to get lost, but then Jagged had interrupted and he had said something that sounded like he had been listening.

Pretty boys with green eyes were already a weakness for her, she knew that. But a pretty boy with green eyes and he indulged her rambling about fashion? She had the horrible feeling that she was already a goner. It didn't help that she had been falling out of love with Adrien ever since his dumb high road advice.

“So you design for Jagged Stone,” Damian said, clearly attempting to restart a conversation. She nodded enthusiastically, giving him a brief history of her work with the eccentric musician. He asked intelligent questions and she felt herself losing the battle not to like him.

She had all but forgotten that they were supposed to be getting dinner with other people when Jagged came back over with two other men, dressed impeccably in black suit jackets. The older of the two was wearing a very traditional slim tie and shirt but the younger had coupled his suit jacket with a band tee that she recognised as the one matching the album she had designed.

“Good evening, I'm so sorry we kept you waiting,” the older man, Bruce, said, stepping forward smoothly to offer her his hand. He was a little further away, so she had to step away from Damian to do so, after which the younger man, Timothy, stepped into the space to introduce himself as well. “Damian, I just needed to speak with you about something, could we step aside before dinner?”

Damian grimaced internally, although externally he merely nodded and excused himself quietly. He had the suspicion that his father was offering him an escape from having to deal with a stranger and didn't know how to explain that he was fine without embarrassing himself.

“I'm sorry, Damian, Jagged has always been notoriously late before so I didn't think anything of it until he came up to our room and said he'd left you alone with his designer,” Bruce said apologetically, giving him a quick once over. 

“It was fine, father, Jagged Stone's designer was explaining some of the techniques she had used to complete her outfit,” Damian replied, making sure to school his features into casual boredom. Until he knew what she thought of him, he would keep his interest in the girl to himself. “We are keeping your guests waiting, should we not rejoin them?”

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and strode back over to the other three. To his dismay, Tim was engaging Marinette in an animated conversation about her best works and was much better versed in fashion terminology than Damian. His stomach dropped when she gave a laugh that sounded like bells chiming and touched Tim's arm.

“Rock on, are we ready to get some food? I'm famished,” Jagged said, throwing an arm over Marinette's shoulder. “Besides, I haven't seen any of you in ages, I've gotta tell you all about the crazy stuff that's happened. Especially you, Bruce - if you thought Gotham had crazy villains, you should hear about Hawkmoth.”

“Uncle J, I don't think your guests want to hear about how crazy it is in Paris. Besides, Damian already mentioned Paris’ heroes so they probably already know about Hawkmoth,” Marinette said, glancing at Damian with a small smile.

“You talked about the heroes?” Tim asked, and Damian assumed he was alarmed, thinking that Damian had betrayed their interest in the situation as vigilantes. Scowling, Damian gave a brief nod but said nothing. He found himself unable to sit next to Marinette but instead was placed in the seat opposite her.

“Oh, it was my fault,” Marinette said with good humour. She gestured to her dress before removing her jacket and sitting down. “He recognised the vigilante I styled my outfit after. As soon as I found out where Jagged was from I checked out the city protectors and fell in love!”

“That's very interesting,” Bruce said, amusement lacing his tone as he gave Damian a look. Tim was choking on the water he had sipped, but waved off Marinette's concern. “But yes, we are aware of the Parisian heroes. We didn't want to come to a city without being prepared, an unfortunate side effect from living in Gotham.”

“Ah, that's a shame! Marinette here is part of what we like to call the Akuma class, she's probably got some crazy stories from the front line. Hell, remember when I came to do that show in your bakery, M? Poor Penny completely trashed the place after Alec blasted those pictures of-”

“Okay, yes, thank you, Jagged! I very much doubt anyone here needs to know about my embarrassing collection of magazine covers,” Marinette said, glancing at Damian and flushing slightly. His heart thudded painfully again, although his stomach removed itself from the region of his feet. “Anyway, we were moving on from crazy supervillains as a topic, right?”

“Yeah, alright,” Jagged said, although he sent a sharp look Damian’s way, which said he wasn't as air-headed as he had seemed. “Hey, did you know that there's a soup named after Marinette here? It used to be called celestial soup, but her great uncle renamed it after she helped him with a competition.”

Marinette felt like she was sitting with her Papa, Jagged was bragging about her accomplishments so much. She tried to sneak glances at Damian without being noticed, but every time she looked at him his gaze found hers, and she felt a familiar swoop in her stomach. By the end of the meal, she was so embarrassed she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. 

“Well, as fun as this has been, Lil M here has school tomorrow, so she should probably head on home. Do you want me to call you a cab or anything?” 

“I'll be fine, Jagged,” Marinette said, rolling her eyes and shrugging back into her jacket. The lining felt cool on her skin, which helped the anxious nerves settle. Jagged nodded, giving her a hug before sitting back down and chatting with Bruce about how different Paris was to Gotham.

She was surprised but pleased when Damian stood as well, offering to see her out of the hotel. She didn't miss the concerned looks that Tim and Bruce exchanged but decided to ignore them. They walked slowly through the much quieter lobby, Marinette wanting to extend her time with him as much as possible.

“It has been a pleasant evening in your company, Marinette,” Damian said as they slowed to a stop just shy of the doors. She beamed as she blushed again, nodding enthusiastically. “And…I hope it is not too forward of me, but I would like to see you again whilst I am still in Paris.”

“I would love that,” she squeaked, nearly dropping her phone as she pulled it from the clutch she was carrying. She offered it to him and he reciprocated by handing her his. Joy bubbled in her veins as she went to take a selfie to put as her contact picture, but he stopped her.

“May I take a picture of you in your outfit?” He asked, a light flush across his cheekbones the only sign that he was affected by her. She nodded dumbly, trying not to smile manically as she posed for a photo. Her half smile was on his face as he showed it to her, setting it as the picture for her profile. “I wish you did not have to go, but I understand the need to attend school. Will you inform me when you reach your home safely?”

Marinette promised she would, giggling happily as she walked away from the hotel.

_ _ _

Bruce was nervous about Damian following Marinette out of the room, but couldn't do anything without alerting Jagged to this concern. Tim was almost asleep now that the excitement of meeting Jagged and his designer had faded, so he couldn't subtly suggest that he check on them either. 

The minutes dragged torturously, the acceptable amount of time for a polite farewell coming and going. He glanced at his watch apprehensively, and Jagged laughed aloud, making Tim jerk out of the light doze he had fallen into.

“Something on your mind, Brucie?” The musician asked, propping his head up on his hand. Bruce gave him a tight smile, wondering what to say that wouldn't alarm his old friend. He was saved from having to when Jagged chuckled again. “Look, I know they're kids, but Marinette's got a good head on her shoulders. She's not going to seduce the little guy and corrupt him, promise.”

Tim gave a shocked giggle, stuffing his knuckles into his mouth to stifle them. Jagged looked at him, amused, before turning back to a Bruce who just looked tired. Before Bruce could reply in any capacity Damian finally returned, and Tim gave up the fight against his laughter, curling up and wheezing.

“Is Drake having some sort of episode?” Damian said, brow furrowed. Tim gasped for air and pointed at him, which only made him scowl uncertainly. “Father, when was the last time he slept? And how much caffeine has he consumed since then?”

“N- no, sorry, I'm sorry,” Tim gasped, finally managing to pull himself out of his laughing fit just long enough to choke the words out. But then he looked at Damian again and dissolved once more. “C- corrupt…s-s-seduce…”

“It isn't important, Damian,” Bruce said decisively, which made Jagged bark out a laugh as well. Damian took his seat, looking irritated and unamused. Bruce sighed, not wanting to get into the full conversation with Damian until Jagged was gone, but knowing that his son would be a grouchy mess until it was addressed. “Jagged was just saying that Marinette is a good kid, and that I shouldn't be worried about you spending time with her.”

“Ah hell, M’s so much more than just a good kid! She's practically an angel! I mean, she's designed for me, but she babysits too, she helps her parents with the bakery, she's top of her class…like, the list goes on but I digress. Pretty sure my kid has a thing for her, but I haven't talked to them about it.”

“Tt, whilst I appreciate your concern, father, I am capable of choosing who I will spend time with by myself,” Damian said, unruffled by the conversation topic. “Now, it is late and I would like to rest before we tour the buildings tomorrow, may I be excused?”

As soon as Bruce agreed, Damian bid them all goodnight and headed to his room. He prepared for bed, checking his phone periodically even though he had set it to loud while waiting for Marinette to inform him that she was home safe. It wasn't until he was settled on his bed with a book that the notification of a new message sounded.

Hey Damian, this is Marinette! Just letting you know that I'm home safe :-) let me know when you're free and we'll hang, okay? Xoxo

A rare grin lit his face for a moment, before he messaged her back with the plans for his week in Paris. He would have free time every afternoon, and Marinette said that Wednesdays were a half-day at school, so she would be more than happy to spend time with him then. He bid her goodnight and she sent back a heart emoji, effectively ending their brief exchange.

_ _ _

When Marinette had agreed to make the costumes and help with the set for Kitty Section, she had been determined to help them win first place in the contest. So she had worked tirelessly to ensure the costumes were perfect, fitting and re-fitting the whole band countless times.

On the weekend of filming, Damian was on his last day in Paris and asked if he could see her before he went. She wanted to - their kind of date on Wednesday had been amazing, and they'd only done a walking tour of the city - but she'd made the commitment to her friends. She decided to call him and explain the situation, because she didn't want him to think she was blowing him off.

“Marinette?” He said when he picked up, his voice low and tinged with concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Hey Dami, I'm fine,” she said, hauling the trunk of costumes out of the bakery and taking a break before walking it to the boat on the Seine. “Sorry for calling instead of texting, I just have my hands a little full. I have plans already for today; I'm helping my friends’ band with a music video they're making for a competition.”

“You need not apologise, Marinette, we have not known each other long and I have already been fortunate enough to see you several times this week,” he assured her. Warmth spread through her, partially from the heavy chest, but mostly from how straightforward he was with her. “I will not lie to you, I would have liked to see you again before I go home, but it is hardly like I will not see you again.”

“What time are you flying out?” She asked wistfully, stopping on the shore next to the houseboat. She sighed when he told her that he was leaving for the airport at midday, and said that she would have to try video calling him when time allowed. “But at least we can message each other any time.”

“Indeed. Now, enjoy your time with your friends and I shall speak to you again soon.” Sighing again, she called out to the band, hugging Mylene and Rose when they came out to her. Luka smiled at her, but stayed on the stage strumming.

When they finished recording and editing, Marinette saw that it was 11:30. Shouting quick goodbyes to everyone, she raced over to the hotel. She was breathless when she arrived at 11:45, but it meant that she should have at least ten minutes to say goodbye to Damian.

Rushing over to the front desk, she asked if they could send a message up to the American visitor Damian (why hadn't she asked for his surname?) and sent a text as well, just to be safe. It took a few minutes but then he appeared in the lobby and shot her a crooked smile. 

“I am very glad that you completed your tasks early, Marinette,” he said, brushing some flyaway hairs out of her eyes. Her heart hammered, refusing to slow down even though she had been standing still for several minutes. “May I kiss you?”

“God yes,” she whimpered, grabbing onto his lapels and pulling him down. He kissed back earnestly, cupping her cheek with one hand as she wound her arms around his neck. She tentatively pushed her hands into his hair and was rewarded when he made a soft noise of contentment. 

They stood like that for several minutes before slowing and separating. The same crooked smile he had given her when he had seen her a few minutes ago lit up his face and she smiled goofily up at him. They murmured gently to each other, promising to stay in touch and see each other as often as possible.

“I know it's kind of extremely early to ask this, but will you be my boyfriend?” Marinette asked when he begrudgingly reminded her that he had only a few minutes until his father and brother would be joining him to return home. She was relieved when his crooked smile transformed into a full blown grin.

“I would love to be your boyfriend, Marinette. I would much prefer to remain here with you in Paris, but I must return home and to my responsibilities,” he said regretfully. She sighed and buried her face in his chest, holding him tightly.

“Damian, are you ready to go?” Bruce had arrived and Damian reluctantly released her. She blushed at the man, stammering a greeting and farewell and he smiled at her. “It's been a pleasure to meet you Marinette. If you ever come to Gotham, feel free to come to Wayne Enterprises and we can give you a tour.”

“...Wayne Enterprises as in, Wayne Fashion?” She said eventually, turning to stare at Damian. Bruce watched as his son flushed pink and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He had to fight back his own astonishment that the girl apparently hadn't known who she was having dinner with a few nights ago.

“Why would I have known?” She squeaked when he voiced the thought. “Jagged just said his friend from school was coming to visit and he wanted to introduce me! I- this is going to take me a minute,” she confessed, darting and apologetic glance at Damian.

To Bruce's surprise, Damian looked worried, his face filled with tight lines. He had never seen his son hesitate before, or worry that his name would change the opinion someone had of him, but that was clearly what was happening. Marinette's crisis was cut short when Tim joined them and the car for the airport pulled up.

Damian pulled Marinette away from his family while they put the luggage in the car, wanting to ensure that things were alright between them. She had already calmed down considerably which was a positive sign.

“Marinette, I am sorry I did not tell you sooner. I assumed you were already aware of our family name. I hope that this does not change-” he was cut off abruptly when Marinette grabbed him in a tight embrace.

“It doesn't change anything,” she swore confidently, pulling back from the hug and gripping his hand. “If you're fine with dating a daughter of two bakers, I think I can find it in me to date the son of a millionaire.”

“Tt, billionaire,” he corrected automatically, flushing when she gave a strangled giggle. Tim gave a warning shout that they needed to leave and he glared in the direction of the car. “May I call you when I am safely home?”

“Damian, as my boyfriend you can call me whenever you want,” she said, before letting him walk over to the car. He felt a little hollow and disappointed that this was goodbye for now, but his duties as Robin had to come first. 

_ _ _

Marinette spent the next few days fuelled by the joy of knowing Damian felt the same way she did. They had messaged back and forth several times, even occasionally calling. They talked about anything and everything, Marinette finding him to be practical but compassionate about her problems.

On the Wednesday after they had submitted the competition video, Marinette was hanging out with Kitty Section on the houseboat when Ivan called for everyone's attention. In numb outrage, they watched XY’s new music video - a direct copy of their submission.

Taking their complaint to the filming studio, Marinette and Luka snuck inside while the rest of Kitty Section caused a distraction. Once inside, Bob Roth proceeded to tear into the pair, threatening their futures and, specifically, Marinette's future as a designer. She didn't notice Luka getting angry until he was enveloped in harsh purple light, transforming into Silencer.

He stole XY's voice and turned to Marinette, promising to help her stay safe and protect her artistic integrity. Then he told her, “You’re an extraordinary girl, Marinette. As clear as a musical note, and as sincere as a melody.” She blushed for a few moments before shaking it off and going to transform. 

The battle against Silencer was difficult, and only made harder by Bob Roth. She did eventually defeat him, but all it meant was that she was back in the same position she had been before the akumatisation. Unless…

Her usual quick thinking and the assistance of Luka resulted in Bob being forced to admit that he had tried to steal their ideas. Transforming back, Marinette rushed back to Luka and cheered happily that they had won. She had decided that she would ignore what Luka had said under the influence of the akuma, given that she didn't want anything more than friendship with him.

But then as they were separating, he said the same thing again, and it left her uncomfortable. She didn't manage to say anything back, but he didn't seem to be expecting an answer. She immediately messaged Damian, wanting to let him know what Luka had said.

She was comforted by his no nonsense view on the matter, seeming more concerned that she had been caught up in an akuma attack. She assured him that she was fine, and that Ladybug had saved the day as usual. He asked a few questions about how she had done it, and Marinette had to carefully dodge any potential pitfalls that would show she knew too much.

Damian ended the call feeling even more determined to help end the threat of Hawkmoth. He had wanted to help as soon as he found out that there was an emotional terrorist causing havoc in Paris, but now that he knew Marinette…it was imperative that the Justice League meet with the heroes and offer whatever help they could.

Striding into his father's office, he waited patiently to be seen. He tried to structure his concerns in a way that wouldn't immediately make his father suspicious. He did not want his family to pry into his relationship with Marinette, especially as they did not think he was capable of one.

“What can I do for you, Damian?” Bruce eventually said, looking up from his work. Damian steeled himself and launched into his speech about helping the Parisian heroes. Bruce listened without interrupting, nodding along until Damian ran out of things to say. Finally, Bruce steepled his fingers and gazed thoughtfully at the young vigilante. “I see, and who would you suggest I send to Paris?”

“Drake has an analytical mind that would likely be the biggest benefit as both Ladybug and Chat Noir seem to be competent enough in battle. Training would not go amiss, however, so someone should go with him.” He stopped himself from volunteering immediately even though he was sure his father would know that was the only reason he would be talking about it.

“Alright, so given what we know about Hawkmoth's abilities anyone too volatile is out of the question. So Jason will have to sit out a long-term placement in Paris. Dick has his family to think about, which would only make him moody to be separated from them. Steph and Tim have a history that makes me hesitant to send her with him to a city besieged by an emotional terrorist.”

“Cain has responsibilities in Hong Kong, she would be too distracted to train them sufficiently,” Damian added, warming to the task of shutting down the possibilities of someone other than him going. “You are essential to the welfare of Gotham, so that is out of the question, as is anyone with powers such as any of the Kents.”

“But Duke’s powers are actually potentially helpful,” Bruce countered, looking thoughtful. Damian tried not to freeze or scowl. He thought desperately for a rebuttal, a reason that Duke would have to sit it out and came up blank. 

“Thomas is…an adequate choice,” Damian admitted at last, trying to avoid glaring but only half succeeding. “It would be beneficial to all involved if we verified that his powers would be useful before he uproots his life in Gotham, however. Perhaps he and Drake could visit as their alternative selves via zeta tube and make contact with the duo?”

“That sounds reasonable,” Bruce replied, nodding to himself. Damian held himself stiff and waited to be dismissed. “Of course, there is this akuma class that Jagged and Marinette mentioned, it could be useful to have someone in the classroom itself to investigate…do you think Duke could pass as a fifteen-year-old?”

“Tt, that hardly seems necessary,” Damian said, working to calm his now racing heart. If he played this correctly, he would be able to go to Paris regardless of whether Duke went as well. “I am in that curricular age bracket and I am more than competent enough to investigate.”

“And what of the emotionally stable requirement?” If this were a less important conversation, Damian would have been offended. As it was, he gave the question as much clinical consideration as was possible. 

“I am capable of managing my emotions, I have grown plenty since Mother allowed me to stay in Gotham,” he said eventually, pleased that his voice was level. “It would also be a good test of my own capacity. In addition, I have already spent a week in Paris and went without Akumatisation the entire time, despite spending ample time with Drake.”

“But not around children your own age,” Bruce countered again, forcing Damian to swallow a growl. “You're not best known for dealing well with people who approach you because of your name, and that could cause an akumatisation of someone else.”

“Then send me under an assumed name, ostensibly so that I am protected whilst away from you,” Damian said immediately, pleased with his own quick thinking. At Bruce's raised eyebrows he soldiered on. “The only person with any knowledge of my identity is Marinette who would likely not give that information away if we requested it in advance.”

Bruce stayed silent for several minutes, clearly mulling all of this over. When he finally nodded, Damian allowed a small smirk to flit across his features, before schooling his expression back into solemnity.

“Very well, a team of three. I like the idea of sending you through the Zeta tubes first, and we may well do that for several nights in a row to give the illusion that you're all still in Gotham as civilians. And then a couple of nights of no activity at that end when you arrive as Damian but Robin back in Gotham would cement it quite nicely. Okay, yes let's tell the team.”

_ _ _

Adrien walked into collége with a spring in his step. So far, he hadn't had time to wow Marinette with his charm and wit - he had researched so many non-cat puns - but he was confident that he would be able to get Alya and Nino on his side. He had vague recollections of Alya forcing him to dance with Marinette at Chloé's disastrous party, so he was pretty confident that she wanted them to double date.

But when he arrived in their classroom, Alya and Nino were talking in hushed tones. Marinette still hadn't appeared, but that wasn't unusual, so Adrien made his way to his desk and turned to talk to the pair.

“I'm telling you, Marinette's been smiling at her phone and she's practically glued to it these days! And Juleka said that he confessed to her during the whole Silencer debacle,” Alya insisted, showing a picture of Marinette gazing lovingly at her phone.

“Who confessed to Marinette?” Adrien asked, suddenly apprehensive. He felt even more worried when Alya and Nino exchanged a look.

“Dude, you remember Juleka’s brother, Luka? Apparently he told Marinette he was into her when he was akumatised into Silencer,” Nino said, shrugging uncomfortably. “And Mari’s been acting kind of strange lately, haven't you noticed? She looks at her phone all the time, and someone's messaging her loads.”

“Yeah, and my girl definitely thought he was cute, I remember when she met him. She was blushy and stammered a bunch,” Alya added, although she shut up as Marinette rushed in. “Hey Marinette!”

“Hey Alya! I can't believe how late I was running today,” Marinette groaned, laying her head down on the desk. “And before you say it, yes I know it's my own fault for staying up late.”

“Hey dudette,” Nino said, but Madame Bustier appeared before Adrien could give his own greeting. He turned to face the front uneasily, wondering if he had already missed his chance to woo Ladybug's civilian identity.

The day dragged on, and when he returned after lunch he spotted Marinette smiling at her phone and decided he had to know. Strolling casually towards her, he leaned down to talk to her.

“Hey Mari,” he said cheerily, trying to get a sneaky glance at her phone but she squeaked and pulled it out of sight too quickly. “You looked happy, were you messaging Luka?”

“Luka? Why would I be messaging Luka?” Marinette looked guilty and Adrien's stomach clenched. He forced a smile onto his face, trying to look like he wasn't panicking.

“Oh, Alya just mentioned that you were maybe dating him…”

“No, I- I'm not dating Luka,” she said slightly hesitantly. She bit her lip and Adrien wondered if she wished she was.

“Okay, well that's…that's great,” he said, smiling a little more naturally. “So I was wondering if maybe-”

He was interrupted by the bell and he frowned at the sudden bustle behind him. Marinette’s phone buzzed again but she didn't open whatever message it was in front of him. Instead, she suggested that they head into class, only pulling her phone out stealthily once they were seated.

Adrien frowned and all but ignored the lesson. If he couldn't find time to bring it up as Adrien, he would just have to work harder to convince her as Ladybug.

_ _ _

Robin stood on the threshold of the Watchtower Zeta tube with anticipation pooling in his stomach. He was determined to impress the Parisian heroes and prove Jason's ominous prediction, that he would be akumatised within the hour and decimate the Parisian team, wrong

“Okay, so remember, this is a pretty simple recon mission and to extend the olive branch and our offer of aid to Ladybug and Chat Noir. If they decline, we're out and no arguing. The last thing they need is for one of us to get akumatised because we can't take no for an answer,” Red Robin reminded them for the third time.

“We get it, Red,” Signal said, shaking his head in exasperation. Robin worked on not adding his own vocal frustration and was rewarded by Red Robin nodding and stepping through to Paris. 

Standing in an alley, they got their bearings and shot off to find the local heroes. It was late evening and Robin managed to glimpse Marinette's balcony as they grappled past. The lights were on and he could see the flicker of movement as she did something. He thought he saw a shift of her curtain before they completely passed but couldn't justify stopping.

They settled on the Eiffel Tower and ended up only waiting for around ten minutes before a red and black blur flipped and landed in front of them. She eyed them suspiciously for a moment but then confusion crossed her face.

“Um, hello,” she said hesitantly, giving Robin a look that made him sure she recognised him. Sometimes it was worth being dressed in…how had Marinette said it?...oh, yes, traffic stoppingly bright colours. “To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting some of Gotham's heroes?”

“We're here to offer our assistance,” Red Robin said, smiling at the girl. “I'm sorry it's taken so long for us to come, we weren't really aware that there was anything amiss to begin with. And then Batman wanted to check things out before we reached out.”

“Wow, seriously? I would love some help! I've been trying to track down Hawkmoth but it's been- God, it's freaking sucked. It's messing with my civilian life and I kind of have a lot on my plate, so any help you can give would be incredible.”

“Of course,” Red Robin said, smiling at the French heroine. “I'm Red Robin, this is Signal and this is-”

“Robin, yes,” she interrupted nodding. “I recognised the, ah, interestingly bright colours. They are not exactly subtle shades.”

“Tt, the colours are a tradition,” Robin said, grumbling slightly. It felt strange to discuss the colours of his suit with someone who also wore a shockingly bright suit. But he kept to his word and avoided sniping back an insult.

“Yeah, my fr- boyfriend is from Gotham and explained it to me,” she said, blushing lightly and smiling softly. Something inside Damian felt like it had received an electric shock. It could be a coincidence that this dark-haired, blue-eyed hero had a boyfriend in Gotham but… “I still think that you could do something slightly different with it though. There are other shades of yellow, red, and green that don't stop traffic.”

The rest of the encounter felt like white noise to Damian. He found himself watching Ladybug intently, noting small tics that he had noticed in Marinette during their brief time together so far. She was expressive with her hands. She twirled her pigtail around a finger when thinking. 

How had he managed to travel across the world, meet someone and they turned out to be a hero? In some ways it was baffling, but in others made complete sense. Of course his girlfriend was a selfless, heroic girl who spent what very little spare time she had battling the forces of evil. He could only be interested in the very best.

Fortunately, nobody seemed to notice his distraction and Ladybug thanked them before zipping away - in the direction of Marinette's home. Hm, it appears he would need to speak with her about obscuring her destination.

_ _ _

The next week passed fairly quickly, but Damian was also exhausted by the end of it. Between traveling back and forth to Paris via Zeta tube, organising all paperwork to transfer to Francois DuPont, and plotting how to tell Marinette her secret was out, he scarcely had time to sleep.

It was a relief to land in Paris on a Saturday evening and head straight to the apartment that Bruce had procured for the three of them. He immediately set down his suitcase and pulled out his phone to let Marinette know that he had arrived. He received a dozen or so heart emojis in return, making him smile.

He sent a follow up text asking if she would join him the following day to collect his French phone, ready for school first thing on Monday, which she also agreed to enthusiastically. He tucked the phone away as he prepared to meet with Ladybug again, wishing he could tell her who he was and that he knew who she was.

The trip to the Eiffel Tower was uneventful and they set up the laptop and paper notes about their investigation so that they could do a further deep dive. Since they had discovered that Signal could only see an energy signature when Ladybug used her lucky charm, they couldn't use him to quickly locate Hawkmoth when he was powered up but not actively evilising a butterfly.

“...a chance, Bugaboo!” The sound of Chat Noir’s voice carried over to them from nearby and three heads turned towards it. “I think we would make a purr-fect couple, M'lady, but it won't happen if you keep pretending you're not even curious.”

“Chat, I told you that there was another boy,” Robin's fist unclenched from his katana’s hilt but he glared in the direction of the voices as Chat made a dismissive noise. “No, Chat, I'm serious, there's this boy-”

“Yes yes, that you like, but you shouldn't be closing off your options like that! I'm just saying that you should consider me as well,” Chat said, fairly condescendingly as far as Robin was concerned. Unsheathing his katana, he jumped across to where they were standing.

“If Ladybug said no, she would have meant it,” he said in clipped tones. He noted Ladybug's - Marinette's - shoulders relaxed when he arrived and had to wrestle back his anger. The last thing they needed was for Robin to get akumatised. “We have been waiting for you to arrive to debrief and discuss next steps.”

“Sorry, Robin, we're coming,” Ladybug said immediately, following him back to the other side of the Tower. She flitted to stand between Red Robin and Signal who both gave Chat Noir disapproving looks. “So, the list of suspects is ready?”

“Yes, we have been cross-referencing the different affluent men in Paris who have the time and resources to spend time as Hawkmoth,” Robin said, staying beside Chat even though he would have rather been beside Ladybug.

It was nearly an hour later that they all agreed they had done as much as they could. Dutifully, Red Robin reminded the duo that the team would be traveling back to Gotham the next day for a few days but then would be back in Paris to really get stuck in.

Ladybug thanked them all before shooting off to get home. Damian noted that she went off in a different direction this time, and wondered if she changed which way she went each time to help confuse anyone watching.

_ _ _

Marinette waited on a bench in the park outside her home, picking at her fingers. She hadn't seen Damian in person since he had left Paris to go home and she was worried he would change his mind once he saw her again. She had agonized over her outfit before deciding to wear the new shirt she had designed and created specifically so she could show it to him.

“Marinette, apologies for my lateness.” Damian appeared beside her silently, and she squealed before her phone went flying. With reflexes she couldn't have guessed he possessed, Damian caught her phone and placed it gently back into her hands. It had fallen to her other side so he was fully in her personal space, looking down into her eyes as she stammered a thank you.

There was a moment where neither of them moved, simply breathing the same air. And then her hands found their way to his collar and his lips crashed into hers. He kissed her hungrily, wrapping his arm around her waist to secure her against him. 

They kissed for several long moments, and Marinette got lost in running her fingers into his hair. It was reluctantly that she pulled away from him, grinning up at him. His eyes were gleaming and she giggled when he tried to straighten his hair. 

“We should go and get your phone,” she said at last, letting her hand trace his jaw. He shivered and Marinette felt a thrill at the simple fact that she affected her boyfriend. He hesitated for a moment before nodding and helping her stand.

Collecting his phone was an easy task and they chatted about him starting school with her the next day. He had already told her that he would be attending under a different surname, so she made sure she knew his cover name. 

As the day slipped into early evening, Marinette dragged him back to the Pont des Arts bridge to watch the sunset. She turned to look at him and paused. His eyes were hooded and his profile when he turned to look at her made her breath catch. She felt like she was unraveling a string, starting with the way he had approached her before dinner to talk about her Robin themed dress, to the verbal tic that he shared with said vigilante.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, his eyes full of concern. She stood on her tiptoes, pushing her hands back into his hair. He gave a crooked smile and leaned down to kiss her again, but she held him back slightly as she restyled his hair.

“Um, so I think I worked out something I wasn't supposed to,” she said in a hushed whisper, shooting him an apologetic wince. He froze but didn't say anything. His hand came up and pressed gently into the base of her spine. His fingers circled firmly, making her shudder and step even closer.

“I suppose that makes us even,” he replied, sounding amused more than angry. Then it was Marinette's turn to freeze, panic racing through her. “Marinette, breathe. I had intended to tell you shortly, but it is imperative that you do not allow yourself to panic.”

She breathed in shallowly but the panic simmered under the surface. Cursing lowly, Damian pulled her into a rough kiss and she felt like her nerve endings were completely fried. Her panic was swiftly replaced with a fluttering and she leaned into the kiss whole-heartedly.

When they broke apart this time, they were both breathing heavily. The panic Marinette had been feeling was muted, and she leaned her head against his shoulder as she tried to rein in her runaway thoughts.

“How long have you known?” She asked, tracing her fingers around one of his jacket buttons. She frowned lightly as he explained but didn't free-fall into panic this time. “This is going to take some time to get my head around.”

“Do you want me to…leave?” Damian asked, clearly reluctant, and she shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to be left alone with her thoughts. His whole body relaxed and the arm wrapped around her pressed her even closer. 

They didn't talk much more, choosing instead to just hold each other. 

_ _ _

The following day at school, Marinette pushed down the nervous excitement that made her stomach bubble. She knew that Damian would be on time, so she had made sure to wake up early and was already standing on the front steps. She hadn't even seen Max yet, and he was usually first through the doors.

She perked up when a car that she didn't recognise rolled up and was rewarded with the early morning sight of Damian in relaxed clothes. One of the conversations they had had the day prior was to say that he would be trying to distance his image from the public one of Damian Wayne so that he was less likely to be recognised.

“Good morning, Marinette,” he said as he approached her, giving her la bise on both cheeks. They had agreed to downplay their relationship for now to avoid awkward questions about how they had met, and she had never been more glad to have the excuse to kiss his cheeks.

“Morning, Damian,” she said back, beaming as he waited for Duke to park and rejoin him so that they could head to see Principal Damocles. When Duke arrived he gave Marinette a confused look but only greeted her cheerfully. “Good morning, Duke, right?”

“Yes, that's right,” he said and his eyes passed over her, focusing momentarily on the small pink bag by her hip. “And you must be Marinette, Tim mentioned you to us. I, uh, hope this isn't rude but are you aware that Damian is-”

“That this is Damian Thomas?” She interrupted, beaming up at him when he relaxed. “Yes, Damian made me aware and I agree that it's a smart move. I'm the class president of the class Damian will be in, so there should be no issue with him just sticking with me for the foreseeable future. Now, are you ready to meet Principal Damocles?”

They followed her into the building, Marinette chattering and pointing out the different classrooms on the next floor as they passed. Several students that had been milling around spotted the trio and an excited buzz kicked up, though Marinette dutifully ignored it.

“Mr Damocles, the new student and his guardian are here,” she said cheerfully when they were given permission to enter the office. 

“Wonderful, thank you, Marinette,” he said, dismissing her with a nod of his head. She backed out of the office, her hand giving Damian's a discreet squeeze on her way past.

When she entered the classroom, she was immediately bombarded with questions about Damian. Lila sat at the back, quiet for a change and Marinette avoided looking in her direction. When Adrien arrived, he seemed excited to hear that there would be a new student, and piped up that it was probably time to change seats again.

Marinette paused and thought it over, nodding along as she decided that it was the easiest way to let her sit next to Damian. There was a flurry of motion as everyone clamored to explain where they wanted to sit.

“You know, I know Lila said her tinnitus cleared up because of the miraculous cure, but I think it's more likely that she became accustomed to the noise,” she said aloud, feigning concern. Lila narrowed her eyes at her but she ignored it. “It would make sense for us to go with the original plan you all came up with, and then I can help the new kid, as class president.”

Everybody agreed enthusiastically, except for Adrien who looked disappointed. But then Madame Bustier had arrived and they were forced to settle into their new seats.

Meanwhile, Damian was being forced to listen to Principal Damocles drone on about how much the school valued teamwork and a cohesive student body. He danced around the subject of Hawkmoth which made Damian decide that he was weak-willed.

“Look, Damian, I know this is going to be difficult,” Duke said as they made their way to the classroom. “If it's easier for you to be your usual self, don't force yourself to be super friendly. It's normal for a kid that changed countries to be slightly closed off anyway.”

“Tt, I know what I am doing, Tho- Duke,” Damian said, grimacing slightly at using the man's given name. But it would be too suspicious if he was overheard given that they were supposed to have the same surname. 

“Another thing, I don't know what Marinette's got in her bag, but it's giving off insane amounts of energy. There might be more to her than meets the eye,” Duke said, checking his watch. He missed Damian's pause and the boy was back to behaving normally by the time he looked back. “Listen, I'll walk you in but then I've gotta jet.”

Standing in front of the class, Damian used his vantage point to remind himself of all who were in his new class. His eyes snagged on Marinette, who was sitting alone in the back of the classroom with the only available seat next to her.

“Welcome to our classroom, Damian!” Madame Bustier said in an almost unnaturally sweet voice. Forcing himself not to wince, he nodded and projected a cool but nervous aura. “Perhaps you could introduce yourself to the class, tell us a little about Damian Thomas?”

“... good morning, I am Damian. I will say now that I do not like nicknames, and as such will not respond to anything other than ‘Damian’. I am from New Jersey and elected to study abroad when my brother, Duke, was assigned here. I have already been acquainted with Marinette as she is the class representative and would ask that the rest of you give me space to adjust to the new class.”

The class all nodded, although the one sitting next to the blond model Agreste - Lila Rossi, Damian thought her name was - looked disappointed. Duke stayed until Damian was told to take his seat but then slipped away.

In the back of the classroom, Damian and Marinette sat quietly together exchanging notes and speaking softly. To anyone that asked, Damian said that Marinette was helping him adjust to the class and generally making the transition into the school as smooth as possible.

In reality, Damian was letting Marinette know that Duke had sensed a powerful being in her bag, presumably Tikki. If this was the case, then they were in a better position than they had originally believed, because Duke could investigate their various suspects and find the Kwami when they weren't suited up.

_ _ _

Adrien was irritated with the new kid. He knew that Marinette had responsibilities as class representative, but it grated on him that this Damian kid was monopolising his lady's time. And even though the boy was practically shunning the rest of the class, he didn't seem to be staying out of her space.

He grit his teeth when Damian leaned over Marinette during morning break and she flushed. He could see that Marinette was clearly uncomfortable, but he wouldn't get out of her space! Adrien decided that it was time for her knight in shining leather to make an appearance.

“Mari! I feel like we haven't spent enough time together in ages,” Adrien said, dropping into the seat on the other side of her. “Hi, I'm Adrien Agreste, one of Marinette's closest friends.”

“...a pleasure to meet you,” Damian responded stiffly, hand resting on the back of Marinette's chair as he leaned back. Marinette's blush receded almost immediately and Adrien patted himself on the back for saving her so quickly. “Marinette has been telling me about the various extra curriculars available at this school. She mentioned that you fence?”

“Aw, talking about me? I'm flattered,” Adrien replied, leaning towards Marinette. She didn't blush, making him feel smug that she wasn't uncomfortable around him. “Marinette did say that she was a fan before, I shouldn't be surprised that she would tell you all about me.”

“I was actually just mentioning it because Damian expressed an interest in swords,” Marinette interjected, flashing a look Adrien couldn't decipher at Damian. 

Just then Lila, Alya and Nino came over to the table as well. Lila automatically latched onto Adrien's arm, gripping him tightly. He had enough control not to grimace and instead plastered one of his model smiles across his face.

“It's so nice that we can all spend time together, isn't it Adrien?” Lila cooed before turning her eyes onto Damian. “I don't think I had the chance to introduce myself yet, I'm Lila Rossi! It's so lucky that I wasn't away with my mother and doing charity work, I would have hated to miss meeting you with everyone else.”

Adrien shot Marinette a look when hers soured, trying to remind her to take the high road, but she didn't look his way. Instead Damian stood abruptly, making Marinette look up at him, startled. 

“Apologies, I am still adjusting to the new school and this is too overwhelming,” he said, although his tone was flat rather than agitated. Marinette shot up as well, grabbing her bag and leading Damian away.

Adrien slumped a little, pouting at the fact that even though Damian had said he was overwhelmed Marinette had gone with the other boy.

_ _ _

“The problem is,” Marinette said, worrying her lip between her teeth, “that if I tell Duke what he saw so that he can find Hawkmoth, I reveal my identity. And you are literally one of two people who knows, which already feels pretty risky.”

“Then it is a case of whether the benefits outweigh the risks,” Damian murmured. It was lunchtime and they had secluded themselves in the library. With no prying eyes, Damian had pulled her close and buried his face in her neck.

In the short time he and Marinette had been spending time together, it had surprised him how much he enjoyed touching her casually. It had started as wanting to hold her hand and spiraled to wrapping his arms around her as much as he could.

“I know, I know,” she muttered back, frowning at her phone. “It's just…I've spent so long keeping my identity to myself, even from my partner. Having my boyfriend know is wildly different to telling other vigilantes.”

“But Th- Duke would be instrumental in taking action against Hawkmoth,” Damian pointed out. “And should we wish to continue this relationship, they will need to know at some point.”

“You’re right,” Marinette sighed, twisting her hands before running her hands along his arms. He pressed even closer to her, humming lightly as he pressed a kiss against her neck. “But if you don't want to blow your cover, we should probably get on with doing work here instead of cuddling.”

“I do not see why it should matter if people know I am enthralled by you,” Damian grumbled halfheartedly, though he did pull away. They spent the remainder of their lunch talking about their plans and how they would approach his brothers.

Their last lesson of the day went quickly and Marinette waited outside with Damian for Duke to collect them. She waved goodbye to everyone that walked past them but didn't move towards anyone else. 

When Duke saw him standing close to Marinette, he seemed to do a double take but he didn't say anything when Marinette climbed into the backseat besides ‘hello’.

“Duke, Marinette is going to come to our apartment and we shall explain things once we have more privacy,” Damian said with no preamble. He then refused to elaborate regardless of any questions that Duke had.

“Yo, Tim, we've got company,” Duke shouted when they stepped over the threshold of their temporary home. Marinette moved to grip Damian's hand as soon as the door shut behind them and he squeezed back reassuringly.

Marinette took a deep breath as they moved to the kitchen to have the following discussion. She knew it was necessary but she was terrified - she'd never told someone her secret identity but she was willing if it ended the threat hanging over her head.

“Oh, hey Marinette, what are you doing here? Not that you're not welcome! But we weren't expecting you,” Tim said as he came to join them. She exchanged a glance with Damian and he nodded ever so slightly. 

“Um, well, I actually came to talk to you about something that couldn't wait. Otherwise I would've held off until I saw you tonight for our regularly scheduled get together,” she said, hands fidgeting. “God, this is weird. Okay, so this morning, I met Duke out of my suit for the first time, and he noticed my Kwami hiding in my bag.”

“... You're Ladybug?” Tim sounded dumbstruck, staring at her in astonishment. She nodded shyly, opening her bag and letting Tikki out. She floated over to Duke first, who blinked at her but didn't make any other sign of surprise.

“Tt, I feel like that is stating the obvious,” Damian said, placing a comforting hand on her back. She gave him a grateful smile, leaning into him. “You have met her both in the suit and out, Drake, you should have deduced it.”

“Be fair, Damian, it's not like I've spent all that much time with Tim,” Marinette said softly. “And really, there's a bunch of magic that's supposed to get in the way.”

“Wait, are you telling me you worked out it was her?” Duke piped up, looking at Marinette and Damian with suspicion. Apparently whatever he saw confirmed what he was thinking because his eyes widened. “Holy hell, are you two dating?”

“Pft, yeah, sure they are,” Tim said, dismissing it out of hand before pausing and looking at how closely Marinette stood to Damian. “No, wait a minute. You said ‘boyfriend’ the other night, didn't you?”

“Tt, Duke is correct, we are in a relationship and have been since we visited Paris for our initial assessment of the situation. It is ridiculous that none of you noticed the change in my habits, but you can be rather obtuse.”

Both Duke and Tim stared at him like he had grown an extra head but he refused to indulge their curiosity any further. Marinette decided that they had gone off topic for long enough, clearing her throat delicately to get their attention back.

“Right, so, back to this morning? Duke could see Tikki, who was in my purse. Which means he could probably find Nooroo, wherever he is, which would tell us who Hawkmoth is.”

“Yeah, the energy signature is pretty unique. But how do we know that the butterfly Kwami will have the same signature? Don't they all have different powers? What if that changes the signature?”

“Oh, I hadn't thought of that,” Marinette said, biting her lip thoughtfully. She glanced at Tikki, having a conversation with no words and the tiny god dipped her head slightly. “Okay, so I can probably get another Kwami to do the check with, but not until tomorrow.”

“You just…have a stash of tiny gods you can borrow?” Duke said, looking at her like she was crazy. She blushed and Damian scowled at Duke. “What? That's a reasonable thing to question, Damian! Also, I can't believe you found the local hero and decided to date her.”

“Do not be preposterous, I did not know she was the local hero until we returned to Paris. We have been dating since our meal with her uncle,” Damian corrected him, and Marinette felt a giddy rush of joy flood through her.

After that, they chatted for thirty minutes, Tim demanding answers to all of his questions before saying that he would be telling the rest of the family. Damian accepted this with his usual grouchy demeanour, ending the Q&A by saying he would get Marinette home.

_ _ _

Adrien was itching to go and visit Marinette. He wanted to do it as Chat Noir but he had been working very hard on wooing her in their suits, so the direction change might tip his hand that he knew more than he should.

But his movements were so restricted as Adrien! Every time he thought he had slipped away from the Gorilla, or Lila, or his father, Marinette had the new Gotham student practically hanging off her arm! He knew it couldn't be true, but people were even speculating that Marinette liked Damian.

Sure, the dark haired, aggressively reclusive boy clearly liked Marinette - who wouldn't, she was Ladybug - but there was no way she liked him back. Marinette had told him well before this that she had feelings for another boy. If she was going to move on from the mystery boy, Chat Noir was the obvious choice, so he was annoyed that Damian was so constantly in her space.

There had been several akumas since the bat family had descended upon Paris and they said they were making progress, but they hadn't shared it yet. Ladybug had asked about it after the akuma Party Crasher and they had claimed they were narrowing the pool of suspects down but didn't want to share their suspicions until after they had checked the last few out.

Ladybug had accepted this without argument, but Adrien had been annoyed, and vocal about it. When they had parted, Ladybug had stayed behind, assumedly to smooth any ruffled feathers, which had annoyed him even more. What was with Marinette's sudden closeness with Gotham boys?

So now, he was heading to the Grévin wax museum to redo a hand cast for his wax statue. He invited Marinette, Alya and Nino and got enthusiastic responses from two of them. Marinette seemed to be babysitting, but he sent a message saying that he was sure whoever she was with would enjoy all of the statues, and she was welcome to bring them along.

He regretted it immensely when Marinette arrived in the company, not only of an excitable preschooler, but of Damian Thomas. They were fairly glued together, Adrien struggling to get in between them, and then he was pulled away to get his hand recast.

He spent the entire time with the sculptor riddled with anxious energy and wanting to return to the others. He spotted Nino and Alya playing hide and seek with Manon and went past without stopping. He almost missed seeing Marinette and Damian because they were wedged into a corner, having what looked to be a serious conversation.

Before he could get any closer there was a loud bang and several akumatised wax statues burst out of the door from the Ladybug and Chat Noir exhibit. Instinctively, Adrien ducked out of sight but not before he saw Lady WiFi shoot a pause button at Damian that froze him in the act of cornering Marinette.

Adrien grinned with satisfaction before calling for his transformation and scampering away to help take down the akuma.

_ _ _

Marinette called for Miraculous Ladybug and sighed in relief. She made sure Manon made it back to Alya and Nino safely before detransforming and rushing to find Damian. Fortunately he was standing in almost exactly the same place she had been forced to leave him.

“Damian! Are you okay?” She asked, gripping the front of his jacket as she skidded to a stop in front of him. He gave her an amused look but allowed her to hang off of his front without complaint. “Come on, we should rejoin the others, we'll have to talk about what Tim was saying later.”

When they rejoined the group, Manon burst into tears and threw herself at Marinette. The older girl consoled her, rubbing her back and saying reassuring nonsense. Once she was calmer, she was set back on the floor and turned to Damian.

“I'm sorry,” she said in a small voice, and Marinette's heart ached. It didn't matter how much she, as Ladybug or Marinette, told people that they weren't to blame for their actions as akumas, she imagined the guilt must be horrific.

Damian dropped to one knee so he could be on her eye level before speaking. “Manon, it is not your fault. I am sorry that you felt ignored, I should not have taken Marinette's attention away from you while she was babysitting. If it is alright with you, perhaps we may look through the statues together, all three of us?”

Manon squealed and gave him a tight hug that made Marinette smile softly. She knew Damian could be soft when he wanted to, but it was still heartwarming to see him interact with kids.

When they finished walking around the exhibits, Marinette said goodbye to her friends and went with Damian to return Manon to her mother. The reporter gave her a knowing smile when she introduced Damian and Marinette flushed with embarrassment.

As they walked back to Damian's apartment Marinette felt at ease, something she had taken for granted before becoming a superheroine. She basked in the calm, optimistic that she would soon be free of Hawkmoth.

_ _ _

Adrien was determined to talk to Marinette and he was at his limit. Every time he tried to talk to her, Damian was lurking. It was like the other boy didn't understand that he was monopolising Marinette's time, not to mention that he had to be making her uncomfortable. 

So when he overheard Damian saying that he had to speak with some family members that still lived in New Jersey and would be busy that afternoon? Adrien jumped at the opportunity to speak with Marinette without him. 

He took care to arrange his day so that he had free time as soon as school was over. Once he got to the car, he informed the Gorilla that he needed to speak with a classmate. He waited eagerly for Marinette to come out of the building but was dismayed when she still left with Damian.

To make matters worse, she didn't go home! Instead, she followed along with the dark haired boy and disappeared around a corner quickly. Cursing inwardly, he found himself trapped when Lila came over to talk to him, so he couldn't follow after the pair.

Delayed but not defeated, he asked Gorilla to drive in the direction he had seen Marinette and Damian going. Using SnapChat he was able to pinpoint the building Marinette was in (it wasn't creepy and weird, it was resourceful). But then it took nearly an hour for her to emerge, and somehow she did so with Damian again.

He felt his fists clench and he exited the car. The pair strolled casually along the street, not quite touching but not giving an awful lot of space. He waited for them to separate, for Marinette to tell Damian that she had to go home or something.

It felt like he had been hit in the stomach when the other boy pulled his lady to a stop in a quiet area. Marinette turned to Damian with a bright smile before pulling him down and kissing him. 

Turning away, Adrien ran blindly until he was back at the car.

_ _ _

Damian had been dreading this day ever since he had decided to pursue Marinette. She had laughed at his reluctance but he knew that this was going to be the most irritating and pointless thing he had ever done. But Marinette had agreed to meet the rest of his family by video chat and so he was stuck with it.

“Dami, it's going to be fine,” Marinette said soothingly. He grumbled and she giggled a little; they were walking down the street, her hand in his now that they were far enough away from the school. “You do realise that I need to meet them if we're going to keep dating, right?”

“I simply do not see why it is necessary that you meet all of them now. Surely meeting my father would suffice,” Damian said, practically growling in frustration. “Richard is going to be unbearable, and Jason insufferable.”

Marinette was quiet for several moments before speaking. “Do you think they won't like me?” She asked in a soft voice, and Damian felt awful for making her think it.

“Marinette, they are going to adore you,” he said firmly. “Father already thought you were delightful when he first met you and Timothy has been telling all of them about your wonderful qualities. This is purely their curiosity, which is why I deem it unnecessary.”

“I would like to meet them,” she said softly, and Damian couldn't think of any further arguments. 

When they arrived at the apartment they could hear Tim already giving a debrief of their current progress.

“...meeting with Agreste in an hour. With any luck, we'll either confirm that he's our culprit or strike him off our list.”

“Excellent work, thank you,” Bruce said, eyes flicking to the pair that had just entered the apartment. “Hello, Damian, I trust school is going well? And Marinette, lovely to see you again.”

“Tt, it is fine,” Damian said grouchily. But before Marinette could say her own greeting, Bruce was being pushed out of the screen in favour of another black haired, blue-eyed man. Given the squeal that came out of him, Marinette assumed that this must be Richard Grayson.

“Oh my gosh, you're so small! And cute! Jay, Jay, isn't she so small?” 

“Jesus, she's not just small, she's adorable,” another, bigger man chimed in. Marinette blinked as she saw yet another blue-eyed, black hair combo. “How're you doing, sweetheart?”

“I'm okay,” she squeaked, stepping closer to Damian as they scrutinised her. Giving her hand a squeeze, Damian turned a glower on his brothers.

“Oh my god, she even sounds adorable! It's so nice to meet you, Marinette, I'm Dick and this is Jason. We're Damian's two oldest brothers,” Dick said excitedly.

“This is trippy, are we sure she's not there under duress?” Jason joked, eyeing the closeness of the pair and the protective way Damian stood in front of her. “But seriously, good job Demon Spawn, she's way out of your league.”

“That's not-”

“Tt, I am well aware of that, thank you Todd,” Damian snapped, making Marinette flush. “You have met her now, I trust you will respect her privacy and leave us alone?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Jason snorted, giving him a look that Marinette interpreted as ‘I’ll do whatever I want’. “You do realise that if it doesn't work out, she is literally adoption bait?”

“Jay, don't say things like that-” Dick jumped straight in and the two began to bicker, with Bruce sighing in the background as he tried to moderate. Eventually Tim and Duke announced that they had to leave for their meeting and to ‘have fun’.

Once they were gone, Bruce finally managed to end the argument between his two eldest children. He turned back to Damian and Marinette and asked if they had anything new to add in regards to the investigation into Hawkmoth.

“No, but I'm taking Damian to meet my mentor today, hopefully he can add some further insight just in case Gabriel isn't our problem,” Marinette said, channeling her Ladybug persona as she thought about Master Fu. “And I want to see if there are any Miraculous that Damian would work well with.”

They chatted for a while longer, flipping between hero work and school life before Damian said that it was fine he got Marinette home. Jason made kissing noises which made Marinette blush and Damian scowl, but Dick smacked him before saying goodbye to the pair. 

“You should give a call to Cass when you get the chance, Damian,” Bruce added before the call ended. “She has been very interested in finding out more about your girlfriend.”

“Tt, very well. At least Cassandra is better than this pair,” Damian said as they ended the video. Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief when she was certain they were no longer in the meeting. “That was every bit as bad as I feared they would be, are you alright?”

“I'm fine, but if we want to get to Fu’s, we should hurry,” Marinette said, heading for the door. They walked down the streets, not touching but not straying too far from one another. 

Damian felt on edge as soon as they exited the apartment building. He usually felt like he was being watched but it had intensified. But when he looked around, he couldn't see anyone out of place. There was a parked town car and several harried looking individuals hurrying along, so he tried to set it out of his mind. 

It didn't help that he had been on edge about Marinette meeting his other two brothers, and he wondered if that was contributing to his unsettled feeling. They walked at an unhurried pace until the street became more secluded. 

Deciding it would be worth stopping to look around again, Damian put a hand on Marinette's arm. He was about to tell her that he felt watched when she gave him a broad smile before pulling him into a kiss. He pressed into her, hand almost unconsciously burying itself in her hair.

When they broke apart a minute or two later, the feeling of being watched was gone and the thoughts melted away.

_ _ _

Adrien muttered to himself almost the entire way home. He was so full of anger and feelings so betrayed that he was amazed that he hadn't been akumatised. Or at least, he would have been if he could think past the hurt of seeing Marinette kissing someone else.

His father was apparently in a meeting with an American CEO and Nathalie informed him that he would be eating dinner alone again. Still grumbling and generally in a bad temper, Adrien thanked her stiffly before heading to his room.

Once he was in his room, he slumped at his desk, pushing his mouse to activate the screen. He gave a dejected sigh as he stared at his Ladybug background until Plagg made a disgusted noise and loudly demanded to know where his camembert was.

“Plagg, now isn't a great time,” Adrien said, although he pulled a fresh wheel out and tossed a piece to his Kwami. He glared moodily at the desktop, not bothering to start any of his homework or extracurriculars. After he had finished his camembert, Plagg came over to talk to him.

“Plagg, why did she choose him?” Adrien asked, ignoring the distinct whine to his voice. “They barely know each other! And how could she want to date someone who's less than her? She's a superhero, and he's just some American.”

“This is why I always say cheese is better than romance!” Plagg said cheerfully, settling onto Adrien's shoulder. “Forget about her, you still have Kagami!”

“Plagg, it's Ladybug and Chat Noir, not Chat Noir and Kagami,” Adrien half-shouted, annoyed. He heard a knock at the door a moment later and shooed Plagg before calling out to Nathalie.

“Adrien, your father needs to speak with you,” she answered, stepping into the room. She looked both concerned and pitying, uncomfortable like Adrien had never seen before.

“Sure,” he replied, following her down. He saw the Americans being shown out of the building and recognition tickled his brain. What was Damian Thomas's brother doing with a CEO? 

After he was shown into his father's office, what happened next took on a nightmare-like quality. It happened in a blur, starting with his father telling him he needed to show him something, and ending in seeing his dead mother's body in a glass coffin. 

After that, things were on double speed, transforming into Chat Noir, getting smacked across the city until he was fighting his father-as-Hawkmoth near the Eiffel Tower.

_ _ _

Marinette and Damian were chatting seriously with Fu about the different Miraculous available for Damian when both of their phones began to ring. Damian's turned out to be his brothers and Marinette's was an alert that Hawkmoth had been spotted fighting Chat Noir.

They looked at each other before Marinette let her intuition guide her. She grabbed the turtle Miraculous and slid it onto Damian's wrist as he talked on the phone. He nodded at her as he spoke and ended the call quickly.

“We were correct, Gabriel is Hawkmoth. Apparently Chat Noir discovered this as well and confronted the man without us because Duke and Tim saw him being forcefully ejected from the Agreste mansion. They are trying to follow them but it is proving difficult.”

“Then there's no time to lose. This is Wayzz, he is the Kwami for the Miraculous of protection. To activate, say Wayzz, shell on. Your power activates when you say ‘Shelter’ and will form a protective orb around the item of your choosing. It often goes around the shield that comes with your suit.”

Once he was ready, they hurried to leave Fu's store front, finding an alley to transform in before they rushed to the battle. Marinette jumped and swung frantically, not wanting her partner to be injured, or have his Miraculous removed.

“Watch out!” Damian shouted, leaping for her as Hawkmoth was sent flying into the building she landed on. It began to crumble and he leapt expertly to catch her and roll them safely to the next building. He cradled her head and grunted as they landed, but they were both standing within the next moment.

“No!” Chat howled from a nearby rooftop, but he wasn't looking at Hawkmoth. He appeared to be looking in Marinette's direction, and she worried that he was noting the way Damian hovered protectively. But, surely, he couldn't guess that there was a more romantic aspect to her relationship with a brand new hero?

But Hawkmoth seemed to be ready to take advantage of Chat's anger and a purple butterfly landed on his bell. She sucked in a horrified gasp of air as the sickly violet aura overtook him and left behind an almost exact copy of her kitty - but pure white, with blue eyes.

She watched with mounting horror as Chat seemed to fight with himself, building a cataclysm that he pointed at Hawkmoth and her alternately. He looked to be unable to decide and the cataclysm continued to grow until it became clear that he couldn't control it. Damian gasped as a rush of energy began to spread from where the akumatised Chat Noir stood.

Damian gripped her tightly around the waist with one arm as he screamed out ‘Shelter’, his other arm holding the shield high and praying that it was enough. Marinette willed all of her power to flow into the shield he was creating, countering the destruction barreling towards them. 

She gripped the arm around her middle so hard she thought her fingers would break. As the final waves of Chat’s power echoed and faded, the power of Shelter flickered and died. Damian's breathing faltered and he slid to the floor, and Marinette was too shocked to hold him up.

She gave a panicked gasp and dropped to her knees beside him, hands fluttering to his throat to find a pulse. For a heart-stopping moment she couldn't find anything, couldn't see any sign of life and she felt her anxiety morph into a wordless, nameless anguish. But then she saw his chest rise ever so slightly and she thanked every deity she could name that he wasn't dead.

She dragged him to safety, placing him at the very top level of the mangled Eiffel Tower as water started flooding the streets. She kissed him softly on the lips, vowing silently that she would fix things. Steeling herself, she stepped away, looking for her other half, the balance of destruction to her creation.

He was standing on nearby building wreckage, searching frantically for something. She took a hard swallow as she realised that she was what he was searching for. She stared at the destruction he had wreaked, pushing away the mounting horror as she looked up to the now split moon and braced herself.

“Chaton, what's going on?” She called out, her voice only wavering slightly. He turned towards her and she froze as she took in the white suit and bright blue eyes. He landed in front of her and she swallowed again, trying not to show how nervous she was. “Chat Noir?”

“It's Chat Blanc now, m'lady!” There was a slightly manic gleam in his eyes and he was eyeing her earrings almost hungrily. “And if you had been paying more attention to me - as you should - instead of fooling around with that new brat, you would know what was happening, Marinette.”

“You…when did you find out?” She breathed, keeping herself out of his reach as he stalked towards her. He growled slightly when his reaching hands remained empty. “Chaton, this is serious! You've been akumatised and we need to fix this, because you've destroyed everything.”

He hissed and pounced at her then, his eyes narrowed to slits. She rolled out of the way, wondering how she could defeat him so she could fix everything. They fought like that for several minutes, Chat aiming for her earrings and Marinette rolling out of the way and reach for his akumatised object. 

“M'lady, if you give me the earrings I can fix all of this,” he hissed, clearly frustrated. It was so unlike her kitty that it made her fumble momentarily. He caught her wrist and pinned it to her waist.

“Or you give me the akuma and I use Miraculous Ladybug to restore everything,” she countered, slamming her elbow towards his face. He hissed again and dropped her hand so she swung her yo-yo in a wide arc to get herself some space.

“But if you ‘restore’ things, we won't be together, Maribug,” Chat said, straightening up and raising a single hand. A bright ball of something crackled and he aimed towards her. She flipped out of harm's way just in time, watching as the building remnants behind her were reduced to complete rubble. “It's a mistake of cosmic proportions that we aren't together, and only something of cosmic proportions, like a wish, can fix that.”

Marinette flung herself behind a piece of wreckage and called for her lucky charm. A picture frame landed in her hands and her breath caught at the picture of their statue. The statue, to her at least, showed the first piece of art that displayed them as a team.

“Found you,” Chat hissed, pouncing onto her and knocking her feet out from under her. She held the picture up to his face, willing him to see what she did.

“See, even Tikki agrees, it's you and me against the world,” Marinette said desperately, trying not to look at the additional destruction and devastation around them. “Just because it's not romantic doesn't mean that's changed. You're my partner, Kitty, please, don't let it end like this.”

He hesitated and she whipped her hand to the bell at his throat. He yowled angrily, but she had hold of it and squeezed, putting all of her frustration and hurt into it. The bell snapped and the butterfly flapped out, almost lazily. Kicking Chat off of her, she flung out her yo-yo to capture it.

As the akumatisation bubbled away, Marinette was left staring at her partner, who looked around confusedly. He turned his eyes - green again, thankfully - back to her and they lit up momentarily. Then he seemed to take in her expression and faltered.

“Hey M’lady, what happened here?” He obviously didn't remember anything which made what Marinette had to say that much harder. 

“You know who I am,” she said, not bothering to ask the question. When he froze, she saw the quick mental maths that pushed him to realise that he must have been akumatised. She swallowed and hardened her tone to make it clear that she was angry with him. “And you decided you didn't like my boyfriend.”

“I…” he was at a loss for words and hung his head ashamedly. “I didn't mean for this to happen, I was just so…”

“You just decided you were entitled to me romantically,” Marinette said, making him wince. She hated that this was hurting him but, equally, he had killed everyone except them because he couldn't take the answer ‘no’ at face value. “Chaton, you're my partner, my best friend. For better or worse, we have a future together that the universe depends on for balance.

“But that doesn't mean we have to be together romantically. We work together as friends. You ended the world because you thought you were entitled to my time. That's…that's not healthy, Chat. Take it from me, being obsessed with someone to the point that you feel you have to be with them when they clearly don't feel the same ends up hurting you.”

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered, hanging his head in his hands. “It wasn't…it wasn't just you, M'lady. My father…he's Hawkmoth.”

“...Adrien?” He looked up at her with wide, desperate eyes and she felt her heart split in two. “Oh minou, I…look, we have a plan. The bats have a plan, it's a good, solid plan, and it can be done as soon as I fix everything. But if he knows your identity…”

“He has my mother,” Chat- Adrien whispered, voice trembling. Marinette's heart broke for him, her mind racing as she tried to think of how to take Hawkmoth down. She called for her Lucky Charm and received only a teapot, meaning she would need more Miraculous.

“Okay, what we’ll need to do first…” Marinette gave him a detailed rundown of what she expected to happen in the next couple of hours. And then she swallowed as she held her hand out for the ring. “I'm going to ask you to wear a different Miraculous for this fight, chaton.”

“But…okay,” Adrien said, sounding defeated. Once she had the ring in hand, she threw the teapot in the air, calling for Miraculous Ladybug. Everything righted in a swarm of ladybugs and Hawkmoth was lost from sight.

“Ladybug!” 

The pair turned towards the turtle hero who was launching towards them. He crashed into Ladybug and did a quick check over her, hands skimming her limbs one at a time before coming to cup her face.

“I'm alright,” she said gently, even as her timer started to beep. “But we need to move. I need to get Adrien somewhere safe and then get in touch with the Bats so that we can launch our counter-attack.”

_ _ _

They all agreed to meet up on the Eiffel Tower. Marinette and Damian had headed straight back to Master Fu's, and grabbed several Miraculi before meeting up with Tim and Duke. They had put in the request for aid from the Justice League and anticipated help from one or two of the more positive members of the team.

“You will like Superboy, I think,” Damian said as he let them into the apartment. They could hear Tim and Duke bustling around as they got their gear together and the animated sounds of someone zipping at unnatural speeds through the space. “Kid Flash is…unique.”

“Hey kids!” The yellow blur stopped in front of them, making the others look up and greet them before carrying on. “I'm going to be heading out in a second to visit the police station, just to give them a heads up on what we're doing.”

“Thank you, Kid Flash,” Marinette said warmly. She felt slightly exposed, standing in front of other heroes without her mask, but she hadn't wanted to draw attention to the apartment by coming as Ladybug. 

Throwing her a salute, Kid Flash zoomed away. Damian muttered something that sounded like ‘annoying speedster’ but Marinette ignored it. The pressure was beginning to mount and she could feel the buzz of nerves cutting into her stomach.

“It will all be over soon, Marinette,” Damian murmured, his arms wrapping around her comfortingly. She knew that it needed to end, now that she finally had proof that Gabriel was Hawkmoth, but she was also a little scared. 

It felt like no time at all before they were rushing away to the Eiffel Tower. She had transformed and swung by the bakery to collect Adrien, whom she had stashed in her room. She handed him the horse Miraculous and he transformed before they jumped into action.

On top of the Eiffel Tower were Kid Flash, Superboy, Signal, Robin and a new bee hero, also known as Red Robin. The plan was simple, but effective. Signal had written his testimony for the police and Red had compiled the other evidence that had led to the conclusion of Gabriel being Hawkmoth. In addition to this, Signal would be carrying a video camera that would allow him to capture the moment that they removed the Miraculous from the villain.

“So, Equestria here will open a portal into his father's lair as he's been there before. If Gabriel isn't there at the time, I'll need someone to check over Emilie Agreste and see if she can be saved or if he is, in fact, harbouring his wife's body in the hopes that he can reanimate it,” Ladybug said, wincing apologetically at Equestria as she said it.

“If he is there, I'll need both Kid Flash and Superboy to be ready to superspeed and grab his Miraculous if the plan with, um-”

“Hornet,” the bee hero supplied helpfully.

“Right, if the plan with Hornet fails and we can't just freeze him. If Mayura, who we assume is his assistant, is there, you'll be able to use your venom twice as you're an adult and freeze both of them but, again, having speedsters means that we have a contingency in place.

“I'm going to be there more as a final failsafe and recognisable Parisian heroine so that when we broadcast our non-fight people can be assured that it's real. And, if you're willing, Robin, I ask that you use the Miraculous of the black cat so that we can unbalance Gabriel even further.”

Everyone agreed and everything flowed smoothly from that point forward. It went exactly to plan, Ladybug mostly there to stand imperiously as the Justice League members did the brunt of the work. It was almost too easy, Mayura being frozen almost instantaneously before Superboy managed to subdue Hawkmoth.

The video of Gabriel being unmasked could have been choreographed with how much he wriggled, and snarled, demanding to know where his son was. Ladybug coldly informed him that Adrien had bravely stepped forward with the information he held and was being kept in a safe place until the Miraculi had been retrieved.

And just like that, months of fighting ended. Marinette would have said it was anticlimactic if it hadn't come on the heels of a world-ending catastrophic event. She handed Gabriel and Nathalie off to the police before collecting the bee Miraculous from Red Robin.

Then she, Damian and Adrien slipped away to visit Master Fu with the remaining Miraculous. They handed everything back to the older gentleman, who promised that he would be returning the box to Tibet before going in search of Marianne so that they could spend the rest of their lives together.

After a couple of very teary goodbyes, Marinette and Adrien said farewell to the Kwamis of destruction and creation. They left the massage parlour and Marinette felt the burden melt away from her shoulders. She gave a carefree laugh as she hugged Damian tightly, pushing away the thoughts that she still needed to work with Adrien to make sure his aunt could take him in.

Depositing Adrien back at the bakery, Marinette gave a brief and extremely sanitised explanation for why he couldn't go home. She neatly span the truth so that they didn't give away just how involved the pair had been in taking down the supervillains.

Damian had waited outside the bakery for her and didn't say anything when she reappeared, simply taking her hand and walking with her towards his temporary residence. He seemed to grow more contemplative the closer they got, and Marinette assumed he was thinking about how soon he would need to go home.

He pulled her to a stop a street away from their destination and wrapped her in his arms. 

“I wish I could stay,” he murmured, pressing her against his chest. She felt tears welling in her eyes and blinked them away as she gripped the back of his jacket tightly. The day was fading into evening and Marinette realised that her night time meetings with vigilantes on top of the Eiffel Tower were over. “But the most I will be able to convince my father of is a week.”

“I understand,” she said, voice muffled. It was going to be unspeakably hard to be without him, but she knew that Gotham was his home.

“But the Zeta tube will remain, so perhaps I shall be able to…persuade my father that regular visits are necessary,” he added, a small smile obvious in his voice. “We would need to stay out of sight to avoid suspicion, but I imagine we could find ways to occupy the time.”