#charm.fanfic

[goddessapostless]

Silent Showers

Fandom: Naruto Characters: Sakura Haruno, Gaara of the Desert Pairing: Implied GaaSaku Summary: It hardly rains in Suna, but when it does, it brings back memories. Word count: ~400

It hardly ever rains in Suna. But when it does, it always comes down in torrents, with wind blowing and lightning flashing and thunder rumbling, and it lasts for days.

 The last time it rained like this, everyone had to stay inside. The roads, the town, the desert flooded. To step outside would be to step into a swampy marsh, foot sinking and sinking into oblivion.

 The last time it rained like this, Gaara wasn't alone. He looks up into the sky, eyes searching for any sign of the downpour stopping. But it's only just begun, and it won't leave for days yet. With a sigh, he turns back to his cacti, thinking back to the last time this weather interrupted his life.

She looked out the window before them, brows wrinkling the diamond on her forehead. She turned to him and jokingly makes a remark on his growing beauty as he's grown up.

“Yours is much better than mine, I assure you,” he said. And softly, ever so softly, she kissed him,

Neither of them have very soft lips, he discovered. The Suna sun whisked all moisture away from them. But that didn't stop them from exploring, didn't stop the shiver in his spine as her lips slid down his back, leaving a trail of fire in her wake. It didn't stop her moan as he returned the favor, her toes curling in anticipation. It didn't stop them, together, from reaching harmony in each other’s arms.

And when the rain let up, it didn't stop them from missing each other as she left for Konoha again.

Yes, there's definitely something missing from this storm, Gaara ponders. It's her breath, hot on his neck. It's her arms, wrapped around him. It's her voice, promising happily ever after. 

So even though rain pounds his roof, even though lightning strikes within the city, even though thunder rumbles across the sky and shakes his building, there's something that's just not there.

A storm has never felt this quiet to him.

[goddessapostless]

Flip-Flop

Fandom: Soul Eater Characters: Maka Albarn, Soul Eater Evans Summary:  Maka scowls at the tag on her shirt, the one that crushes her dreams of being the greatest meister ever, the one with 'Weapon' scrawled across the top. [Reverse AU; Maka is a weapon and Soul is a meister.]

2k // AO3 // FFN

Soul could always tell when someone was near. There were few times anyone was able to actually startle him. Not even his brother, with his light steps and even lighter breathing, could sneak up on him. Soul always blamed his family. Well, not them, per se, but their occupation. His musical family gave him sensitive ears that could pick up on the slightest sounds, no matter how small. He already blamed them for his monotonous life; what was one extra strong sense compared to that?

He's practicing when it's finally brought up.

Soul had been playing his piano for so long the notes rang in his ears. Wes and his mother step into the room from the door to his back, and without turning to face them, he slides to the side so Wes can join him in a duet. When they are done, his mother dismisses Wes and takes his spot on the bench. She taps out a few loose notes before asking "How did you know we were here?"

Soul shrugs. "I guess I heard you."

Without warning, Madame Evans plays the song he was practicing before she interrupted him. She plays it just as he did, every note falling where it should, but it sounds amazing from her fingers - he sounds like a toddler compared to her. But that is not the point she's trying to make. What she wants is to show him the volume of the song. How loud it was when it was him playing it. And when she reaches the point where he let off, she winds down with a few extra notes that don't belong.

"You heard us through that?" His mother seems amused, and it annoys him. She ruffles his hair affectionately before continuing. "I don't think you're hearing us, Soul. We're not making as much noise as you think." He just gives her a blank look. Of course they were, otherwise he wouldn't know they were there. He tells her this, and she smiles and shakes her head. "You've heard stories of psychics, haven't you? ESP and the like, right?"

He scoffs. "They're bogus. Just people that are good at reading other people."

"Maybe." She chuckles. "But there are people who can do it. Are you sure you can hear us? Or is it more of a feeling that you get?"

Soul searches his memories. When he was practicing, at a recital, listening to music thundering through his headphones - all the times he knew there was someone approaching him, without eyes or ears or knowledge. It was more of a feeling than anything else, and just like that, a piece of the world clicks into something he can't quite make out yet.

He eyes his mother, who has been sitting silently while he ponders this. "How would you know anything about this?" he asks her when her smile becomes unbearable.

Her smile turns sad. "I used to do it, too, but the ability's faded from me. I suppose I traded it for my talent in music." She tries to joke, but Soul doesn't laugh, doesn't even smile. Instead, he scowls deeper. She clears her throat and starts again. "What I mean is, it runs in the family. My brother could do it, too, but he didn't let it fade. He practiced it until it became something of a weapon for him. He claims he can see into a person's very soul, now. I'm not sure if I believe it, but I think it would be better if you developed whatever this sixth sense is, don't you?"

Soul bristles. So this is it. His mother is finally giving up on him. His failure in music had reached the point that his mother felt he should give up.

Madame Evans stands behind him and wraps her arms around his neck, dissipating his doubts with her touch. "I think your music is beautiful, Soul. I want you to continue it, if that's what you want. But it's not making you happy, not like it is us. If you'd rather pursue another path, I will support you. The new school year is coming up. I can send you to the school my brother graduated from, if you want. It's something to consider." Her arms leave his shoulders and she opens the door.

Soul stops her with a question. "Where is it?"

"In the United States. Nevada, I believe."

Soul grins. "Perfect."

Maka wanted to be a great meister, like her mother. A meister. A meister, not a weapon.

It hadn't always been that way. When she was younger, she would have been fine with either. She trained for either position, strengthening both her body (in case she wielded a weapon) and her soul (in case she became one) ever since she was young. It wasn't until she was nine that she decided she wanted to be a meister only, thanks to her womanizing father.

It was his fault Mama wanted to leave, after all. His sneaking around had ignited a scornful wrath inside her mother, and though it rarely reared its head when Maka was around, she could tell from the way her mother moved, jerky and aggressive, that her father was out with another woman. Maka could see it, could almost tell when her mother would have enough and explode. In fact, she predicted the day her mother would snap.

There wasn't a big confrontation, an argument, or an explosion. There wasn't even a slammed door. There was just her mother and a suitcase and a hand smoothing Maka's hair as she was on the brink of waking. "You're so strong, Maka," a voice whispered, "you're so much stronger than me or your father." Lips met her forehead in a tender touch, and by the time she was fully awake, her mother was gone.

From that day, she despised the idea of being a weapon, of being like her father in any way whatsoever. She would become a meister, like her mother, and she would make her partner the strongest Death Scythe the world had ever known.

The irony was not lost on her when she tried to squish a bug and stabbed it instead. The damn thing had snuck up on her, crawled across her leg before jumping to the coffee table she was resting her feet on. She yelped, jumped, and started slamming her hand down on it. The realization that she was bare-handed only occurred to her after her hand smacked the table and there were spider guts all over her palm. Except...

It wasn't her hand that was on the table. Instead there was a blade that skewered the bug through its abdomen - a blade as dark as night, extending from the table to her elbow.

Needless to say, Maka was furious. She spent the rest of that week cursing her father for his strong genes. It was only a month before school started, after all, and her plans were just crushed by him.

So now she stands at the entrance of the DWMA, a week before classes start, and she's wearing that stupid name tag with that stupid 'Weapon' scrawled across the top. Lord Death stands just inside the door, greeting the newcomers as they enter and giving them the gist of the rules for the next seven days - it almost sounds like he wants them to participate in trust falls and speed-dating to "find the perfect match for your Weapon and/or Meister partner!" Maka scowls at the other weapons around her and stares longingly at all the 'Meister' tags she can see. If she's being honest, she'd like to try being her own meister, if that makes sense. She'd only need to change her arm into a scythe and surely she could learn to fight like that, but her mother insisted (through her letters, of course) that she at least try to find a partner.

Lord Death greets her with nothing more than a salute, and she's thankful that's all he does. She just wants to get this over with and knows how he loves to talk - she's known him all her life, after all. She's run through the halls of the school and she's watched the first week of each new year for as long as she can remember. She doesn't need anyone pointing out that her previous dream of being the greatest meister ever was now shattered by the label on her shirt. Of course her father is too over-the-moon to care.

He waves to her from across the room, his eyes shiny and brimming with tears as he spots her. He starts toward her, shouting for her to stay put, he needs a picture, he wants to talk about how to shift, blah blah blah. She shoots him a glare and stomps towards the hall. It's supposed to be off-limits for now, since the school is big and confusing and no one wants to go hunting for any new students that got lost in its labyrinthine corridors. But Maka knows where she's going, and she knows where to hide to escape her father's relentless pursuit.

She slips into a thin hall that's half hidden behind a message board and runs up a flight of stairs to the second floor main hallway. She slows down, sure she's lost him, when she hears the faint trickle of a piano drifting through the air. Curious, she follows it, trying to pick out the direction it's coming from. She knows it's not Black Star or any of her other childhood friends - they don't know how to play any instruments. That means this person is probably new, and probably lost, and most importantly, some stranger to hang out with until this hellish day was over with and then never see again except in passing.

She may still be bitter about being a weapon, and she may go without a meister despite her mother's advice, and she may be feeling somewhat antisocial now because of that.

But the music intrigues her. As she gets closer, she can decipher a melody - a rough, jagged, broken one that rises and falls in time to her breathing. She can hear a quieter melody beneath, just as broken as the louder one, and it taps along with her footsteps. Listening to them at the same time is an experience, and it seems intimate. The two melodies interlock in intricate waves - where one is weak, the other is strong; where one is soft, the other loud. It is an utterly jarring thing, the way the notes seem to float carelessly and then sting without warning.

Maka listens closely, her heart beating in time to it, and she's not sure why she hesitates outside the closed door of the music room.

Her hand is on the door, ready to push, but she doesn't. She doesn't want to disturb whoever is in there, she's not sure she wants to know. She doesn't understand music anyway, and she doesn't want to bother the person behind the door with her questions. It's as her hand falls that the song fades and a voice calls to her.

"Come on in," the person says, his cool voice in stark contrast to his music. Maka opens the door and peeks in before she enters, her hands behind her back.

"That was really..." She struggles for a word, trying to think back to her elementary music lessons. "Cool." Cool is the best she can come up with? Really? Way to go, Maka!

The boy at the piano shrugs. "I guess." He's silent for a moment before asking, "What are you doing up here? I thought this floor was closed so us newbies don't get lost."

Maka shrugs. "Running away from my dad." The boy quirks an eyebrow at that, but she continues before he can ask. "And I grew up here. I know this place inside and out."

"This is a pretty big place to have memorized."

"Yep." Maka's smile widens. "But it's helped me keep my title of Hide-and-Seek champion since I was six."

The boy laughs and holds out his hand. "I'm Soul," he says, his eyes crinkling as he smirks.

"Maka." She shakes his hand, and they share a mischievous look. His gaze flickers to her chest, to her 'Weapon' tag, and she peels the offending sticker off her shirt before crumpling it and throwing it in the garbage can at the front of the room. Soul holds up his own marker, flashing the word 'Meister' before it disappears into his fist and joins hers in the wastebasket.

[goddessapostless]

Alyanette prompt: Double date with Juleka and Rose?

Sorry this took so long! I’ve been in a bit of a creative slump recently, which is why I made that post, but this really helped!! Thank you!!

It’s not easy being the city’s savior. Marinette knew that. But it’s also not easy dating the city’s savior.. Alya knew that well enough.

Alright, so maybe Marinette got the short end of the stick in this case. She was up half the night patrolling, even after one or two or sometimes three akuma fights that day. It had to be tiring. She often comes to school with bags under her eyes, which she complain about whenever Alya is willing to listen. (Though the complaining is usually offset by a few discreet kisses from her girlfriend.)

Girlfriend. Alya beamed as the word jumped across her mind, bouncing from place to place, from memory to memory. Marinette making cookies with flour in her hair. Marinette transforming in a blast of pink. Marinette standing tall, facing the bad-guy-of-the-day. Marinette getting strangled by Rose because holy crap they’re late for their date.

“Marinette, I’m coming up! You better be awake!” she called as she set foot on the stairs. She didn’t make it halfway up before the trapdoor swung open and Marinette descended with a rather graceless, bumpy slide down the stairs on her rump. “Huh. I thought being Ladybug helped with stuff like that.”

Marinette paused her string of colorful curses to reply. “I’m just having an off week,” she mumbles. “Trust me, it was ten times worse before.”

“I’ll just have to take your word for it.” Alya shrugs, thinking back to the day they met in class, the day before Marinette received her Miraculous.She places a hand dramatically on her chest. “Although I would’ve loved more of those macarons. They were good.”

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Alya, you’ve had, like, three hundred since that day. You eat them all the time.”

“So tragic that we lost a dozen cookies that day.” There’s a beat of silence before they both bust out laughing. Marinette guides Alya to the front door, and with a quick goodbye to her parents, they head for their double date hand-in-hand.

The lunch portion of the date passed quickly, mostly consisting of small talk and warming up. Juleka and Rose forgave them for being almost fifteen minutes late, and Alya took lots of pictures of the four of them. The next part of the date was a not-so-quick walk to the top of the Eiffel Tower. (“Don’t you think this is a little too tiring?” Alya asked as she took in Marinette’s hopeful stare at the elevator.)

When they finally settle in the movie theater, Alya is exhausted. Her legs throb in pain and she knows the cramps are going to be worse tomorrow. But at least the theater is mostly empty, so she can rest her legs on the seat in front of her to massage her aching muscles. When the movie starts, she stretches out and wraps an arm around Marinette, who leans into her shoulder.

It’s halfway through the movie when Alya hears a soft snore. She looks at Marinette, who is dozing softly. She sighs, patting her girlfriend’s hair before tightening her grip on her shoulder.

Ladybug takes a lot out of her, and Alya knows this. So she lets Marinette sleep, even though there’s drool soaking her shirt and the movie is amazing.

(It’s only after the date, when the four girls are walking home, that they realize Marinette fell asleep before it even started.)

[goddessapostless]

Another self indulgent fic about Maka getting a partner request ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It had to happen eventually. She knew it would. Soul was getting new partner requests left and right, it was only matter of time until she got some as well.

If only hers hadn’t come from such a pushy, annoying, wouldn’t-take-no-for-an-answer boy who moved in what could only be described as a slink.

She was in the library when it happened. The boy slinked right up to her and leaned against the shelf, directly in front of the book she was reaching for. “Maka Albarn,” he said. She hated the way her name rolled off his tongue with a self-satisfied purr. She eyed him warily before answering.

“That would be me,” she said, gesturing for him to move aside. He obliged, sliding only a few inches away so she had to step close to him if she wanted it. She glanced at the book and weighed her options. It was on a shelf above her head and she’d have to stretched herself over him to get it. Instead of doing that, she crossed her arms and glared at the boy. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yes, actually.” He smirked like he’d just made the best joke in the world. He reached forward and picked up one of her pigtails, sliding his fingers down it.

Disgusted, she jerked her head away. “What. Do. You. Want.” Each word was grit out from between her teeth.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, as if remembering his purpose for interrupting her research. He rested his elbow on a shelf put his head in his hand. “You made that Soul guy into a Death Scythe, right?” Maka knew what he was going to say next. “Well, now that that’s done, I was just wondering if you were on the lookout for a new partner?”

“No.” She answered before he even finished speaking. A short, quick response that should’ve sent anyone on their way. This boy, however, wouldn’t move. And she couldn’t very well leave the book behind. He was probably the type of guy to take what she wanted just for an excuse to see her again.

They were at a stalemate, then.

“Come on,” the boy said. He softened his words with a silken tongue. “You’re an amazing girl, Maka. We’d be the best team at the DWMA, easy. I’m also a scythe, so it’s not like it would be very different.”

“It would be extremely different. I’m not leaving Soul. Now if you’ll excuse me-” She reached up for her book, angling her body away from him. She wasn’t at all surprised to feel his hand wrap around her wrist and pull it back down.

“Everyone has their price. What’ll it take for you to partner up with me?”

She glared at him. “Let me go.”

“Become my partner.”

“Hell no.”

The boy growled. He was resorting to threats now, using his foot of height over her to his advantage. He held her wrist against his chest in an iron grip. She could almost feel a bruise forming there.

“You’ve already made him a Death Scythe, what more could you do for him? He doesn’t need you anymore!”

Truth be told, that hurt a bit. But she knew Soul, knew that he wouldn’t just leave her. She trusted him, he trusted her. Furious, Maka yanked her hand away from the boy and jabbed his chest with her finger. “He is my partner, my weapon, and above all, my friend. I’m not about to abandon him. Not now, not ever.” She shoved him aside to get her book and started down the aisle.

With an enraged grunt, he ran towards her, fist extended to hit her. She deftly stepped out of his way and jammed the heel of her palm up against his chin. While she was nowhere near Kid or Black Star’s level of martial arts, she did know how to fight.

With a final “Hmph.” Maka headed towards the checkout desk.

The boy stood and spit on the floor. He stalked the opposite way from her, grumbling under his breath about how he was going to “Make her pay, she’ll regret this, I’m going to destroy her-”

“Oh you are, are you?”

The boy whirled around to see Soul himself leaning against the end of the bookshelf, his arms crossed and eyes closed. The most irritating part, though, was his smile. It wasn’t cocky, per se, but it was close. Satisfactory. As if he’d seen the whole thing - which he had.

“Maka’s a great meister. She may be a nerd, but she’s smart and doesn’t give up easily.” His smiled shifted to a frown and his eyes slid open, meeting the boy’s with a cool glare. “She can also be self-conscious sometimes. I can’t have you going around implying that I don’t need her anymore.”

“Oh, shut up!” the boy snarled, changing his arm into a blade. He sank it into the wood next to Soul’s head, hoping to scare him.

But Soul didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. Instead, his gaze turned downright icy. “And as for ‘destroying her’ - well, I’m not about to stand by and let that happen.”

The boy spent the next three days in the infirmary.

[goddessapostless]

A Teacher’s Pride

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Character: Caline Bustier Summary:  A teacher's pride is in her students. Caline Bustier knew this well.

1.3k // AO3 // FFN

A teacher's pride is in her students.

Caline Bustier knew this.

She stops at the window of her classroom to watch the children inside.

Nathanaël sits in the back, doodling. Juleka and Rose are reading a book together, sitting just a bit closer to each other than they needed. Max is standing between Kim and Alix, serving as a mediator in yet another one of their arguments. Ivan and Mylène sit on opposite sides of the aisle, stealing bashful glances at each other. Chloé is bragging to Sabrina about a new dress. Nino, Alya, and Adrien all sit facing Marinette's empty seat. And in a blur of motion, as well as a rush of wind, that seat is filled.

Marinette is breathless from having to run to make it in time. She turns red as she notices Adrien's gaze, babbling about one thing or another. Caline can see the moment she says something with less grace than she wished, and a second later she hides her face in her hands and looks at Caline from the corner of her eye, sending out a silent plea for help.

With a girlish giggle, Caline dons her title of Miss Bustier, but not before her smile widens to the point of hurting.

She would not trade her class for the world.

Many of the akuma attacks happened near or around her school. More importantly, they were centered around her students. From timid Mylène to headstrong Alix, her students had been targeted. And although she hadn't been present for many of the attacks, she did follow Alya's Ladyblog.

Ladybug and Chat Noir made sure the public knew it wasn't the person's fault - they were possessed, some evil person made them do horrible things. Caline understood. Teenagers - kids, really - were vulnerable. She would never blame her children, never. But that didn't stop her from being furious when her students were targeted.

She just wishes the fury had an outlet, whether it be channeled into her teaching or a fist in the face of the one responsible. Anything other than the feeling that she's failed her students that washes over her every time it happens.

But she does what she can to help.

She gives her phone number to all of her students. She wants them to talk to her if they need it. She remembers what it's like to be a teenager, to feel like the world is against you.

Sometimes they call her. Sometimes they text. But no matter what, it makes her happy whenever they come to her, to let her know how they're feeling and listen to what little advice she has to offer.

The next attack is not from someone in her class, thankfully.

But the target is.

Yes, Miss Bustier knows Chloé is harsh. Yes, she uses her father's power and influence for her own gain. But Caline is observant, and knows that her prickly attitude hides a lonely girl. It doesn't excuse the way she treats people, but one of the goals Caline set at the beginning of the year is to get her to open up, to be more sincere and change for the better.

She doesn't know if it will ever happen, but she can't let any of her kids be hurt.

So when an akuma breaks in through the ceiling, demanding Chloé to pay for her crimes, Miss Bustier takes initiative. She runs between the two and holds up one hand in a wave. The other hides behind her back, gesturing for Chloé to keep quiet.

"Hello," she says to the akuma, "how may I help you?" She likes to be gentle with them; most of them are children served some grave injustice, and she can tell that this akuma was no older than her class despite the near towering height he has over her.

His eyes flicker to Chloé, then back to Miss Bustier with a glare. "I want her to pay," he says. "She's a horrible person! She ruined everything!" He lashes out, cracking a whip right beside her face. Miss Bustier blinks, but she doesn't flinch. She ignores the gasps of her students and places a hand around the akuma's shoulders.

"Oh, come on, now. What could be so bad that it can't be fixed?" She steers the person to her desk and leans against it. She makes the akuma face her by tapping his forehead gently. "Tell me about it," she says.

He casts one look over his shoulder and starts to turn, his attempt to get at Chloé interrupted. But Miss Bustier taps his forehead again, and with a growl he focuses on her, surprised when she shoves a book into his face.

"Read this! It always manages to make me feel better." It's a book of jokes, and he skims the pages for a few moments. Miss Bustier keeps talking, telling him where a few of her favorite ones are, then glances behind them, to her terrified students. She slides her eyes to the door, sending a secret signal to escape while the akuma is distracted.

Her students follow her signal, Chloé rushing out before everyone else. The others shoot her looks, eyes full of concern and faces full of worry, before doing the same. She smiles reassuringly, then looks up at the akuma.

"Feeling better?" she asks when she notices that he's stopped flipping through it. With a jolt, he looks up and notices the empty room. Roaring, he pounds the desk behind Miss Bustier.

"Where did she go?" he yells, and without her students watching her, she allows herself to flinch in the face of his rage. She doesn't move, though. She wants to calm him down.

"What did she do?" Her voice is quiet, her eyes beseeching. It almost makes the akuma stop his tirade, but the memory ignites his anger once more.

"She ruined my birthday," he growls. "I was in the park, having a party, and she came through and everything changed. She laughed at me for being childish. She drove everyone away! And now..." he hissed through clenched teeth, "You let her get away!" He yells at her as he jumps backwards. His hand reaches for his whip, and before she can react there's a stinging pain in her shoulder and numbness travels down her arm.

She grips the numb arm with the other and grits her teeth. The akuma raises his whip again, and she squeezes her eyes shut to steel herself.

The blow doesn't come. Instead she finds herself in the black-spotted arms of Ladybug, whisking her out of the room through the hole in the roof. Chat Noir stands where she just was, the whip wrapped around his baton. There is a tension in both of them, some unresolved anger that darkens both their faces.

"Are you alright?" Ladybug asks as she sets Miss Bustier on the roof. She removes the white jacket to reveal the wound.

Her shoulder is red and swollen where the whip hit her, but she shakes her head as she hears the battle below.

"I'm fine, Ladybug," she says. "Go help Chat Noir." Ladybug nods and drops down to join him.

Caline Bustier is nothing if not observant.

She knows that Ladybug and Chat Noir are only children themselves. But now, as she watches them from above, she notices the way they move, the way they interact, the way Ladybug takes charge and Chat Noir cracks a gentle smile when the akuma is revealed to be a crying seven-year-old. She notices the shy smile and the way Chat Noir runs his hand against the back of his head after their post-mission fist bump. She notices how Ladybug looks away and rolls her eyes as he tries out another pick up line. Familiar smiles and familiar mannerisms emanating from the two line up with two of the children that she sees almost every day.

She can't dwell on the comparisons long, though, because Ladybug helps her back into the room before casting her cleansing light and disappearing.

A teacher's pride is in her students..

And Caline Bustier has immense pride in Marinette and Adrien for protecting all of Paris.

[goddessapostless]

Rift

rift

noun

a crack, split, or break in something.

a serious break in friendly relations.

(An attempt at a nonlinear narrative)

2.2k // AO3 // FFN

"I brought you some flowers." Adrien stood before her, holding a beautiful bouquet of roses towards her. She sat up, not knowing how she ended up in a secluded corner of the Eiffel Tower's observation deck. The sky around them suggested night had fallen. She'd been asleep for some time.

"What happened?"

Adrien smiled a sad smile and settled down beside her.

Alya had been the first to move after she ran, but Adrien and Nino followed quickly. They wanted to visit her, but she hadn't gone home. Only Alya had understood why.

She had no choice but to explain it to the boys.

The three of them scoured the twenty-first arrondissement, separating it into sectors to make searching easier. He'd taken the tower. It was luck that he found her napping on a bench beneath it. He carried her to a better place to rest and kept watch over her until she awoke, only leaving to buy her food and water and gifts for when she did. Alya and Nino came and stayed as long as they could, but had to leave once night fell.

Marinette wiped tears from her eyes as he finished his story.

"You did all that for me?" she asked.

"I'd do it again, too." he answered.

She leaned on his shoulder, hiding her face, letting his shirt catch her tears.

 =•=•=•=

 Marinette Dupain-Cheng had disappeared.

No one knew where she went. No one knew why. No one knew how.

Her parents had no idea, even though they'd been there, in the same room, the night she disappeared. They'd been standing with her in the kitchen, their fighting drawing them to silence, and then she was gone.

They were devastated.

Her class got together and looked. They pooled their money and promised a reward for her return. They missed her. Even Chloé couldn't keep up her normal attitude without someone to challenge her.

But no one could ever claim the meager reward. There were no leads, no trails, nothing to find her with.

She was just gone.

 =•=•=•=

 Gabriel Agreste was in a good mood.

Adrien just didn't understand. Had a collection gone especially well? Did he land a collaboration with an international superstar? Had he been replaced by an alien or robot?

Okay, that last theory wasn't as plausible as the others.

But it was still odd to see his father's face every night at dinner. Or at his piano concerts. Or basketball games. Or fencing matches. Or... Anywhere, really.

Aside from magazines, of course.

Oh, well. The reason didn't matter. He was paying attention to Adrien, asking about his day and offering advice and just being there, and Adrien couldn't ask for more.

 =•=•=•=

 Adrien Agreste was happy.

His father was spending more time with him, of course he would be.

Marinette tried to soak in his happiness, letting it be her fuel to face her daunting home life. She let thoughts of him and his father fill her mind. If they could be happy without his mother, she could be happy without hers, right?

Or maybe she would be without a father soon.

Hopefully, she would keep both of her parents. The divorce was still just in the discussion phase, after all. Just an idea brought up when neither thought Marinette was awake and listening.

She really, really hoped it wouldn't come to that.

The fighting had come about so suddenly, a simple request to repaint the bakery that had been blown out of proportion. It was like a cascade of pain and fury after that, with every conversation quickly devolving into shouting and yelling. It was unexpected, it was scary.

Marinette definitely won't deny that it was scary. They had been together twenty years, after all. What could have driven them to divorce in the span of two months? It hurt just to think about it.

But only Alya knew about all this. She wouldn't want to spoil Adrien's good mood with something like this. He worried about her too much sometimes.

In fact, remembering the way he rushed to her apartment after learning she needed a translator was one of the few things that made her feel better. It seemed like only he could put a smile on her face now.

And she felt horrible about it. Shouldn't her family be able to do that, even in times like these? If not them, then memories of them should do, but they didn't. They didn't and she couldn't stand it and she wanted to cry and scream and just beat her frustrations away but she couldn't even do that because Hawkmoth wouldn't get off his lazy ass and send an akuma out and she was going fucking crazy and-

And she couldn't stand the stress right now, there were tears in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks and every eye was on her. Alya's hand was on her back, rubbing useless circles into her shoulders but she couldn't stay, the stares weighed on her chest and made it impossible to breathe and she needed out-out-out!

So she gathered her things and left, the eyes of her classmates following her every step.

 =•=•=•=

 Ladybug was there.

That was her, wasn't it?

It had to be. She had the same height, same build. She had the same mask, she was dressed in the same clothes.

It was her eyes, however, that made Adrien doubt her. They were once so full of life, with stars hidden in them, but now they stared blankly ahead.

"Ladybug?" he asked, his voice below a whisper. She turned to him.

"Monsieur Agreste." Her voice was cold, detached. "What a pleasure to meet you." She smiled, the corners of her lips raising only the smallest bit, and he swore she was closing to crying.

"Ladybug!" someone cut in. She faced the speaker, arms at her side in attention. Adrien turned to see his father at the top of the steps, smiling coldly. He started to step down, speaking as he did so. "You are relieved of duties for now. I want you to relax, continue hiding. You are more than welcome to stay here."

Adrien's eyes jumped between Ladybug and Gabriel, the question on his lips dying as soon as he tried to speak it.

"I am Hawkmoth," his father answered anyway, pulling off his tie. Underneath was a small kwami hovering over a pin.

Oh, that hurt.

It hurt in the worst ways. Adrien felt his heart stutter, felt darkness creep into its every crevice. He felt it drop into despair, he felt it chill into betrayal, he felt it roar in anger.

He wanted to voice his feelings. He wanted to let his father know he was disappointed, to tear into him with words sharper than knives, but he didn't get the chance.

Ladybug was transforming.

But no, that was not how she was supposed to do it. Her transformation was supposed to be pink and sparkles. He knew that; she'd told him it was the most ridiculous thing.

It wasn't supposed to be slimy and black, it wasn't supposed to drip off her skin in murky clouds of dark power, retreating into the rose tucked behind her ear.

It wasn't supposed to reveal Marinette, her expressive face now a mask of ice and stone.

 =•=•=•=

 "I brought some flowers." Marinette mirrored what had happened earlier. There was a bundle of red roses in her hands, arms outstretched to give it to her parents. They reached for the bouquet at the same time, brushing the tips of their fingers together. Whipping their hands back, they glared at each other, then turned back to what they were doing.

Sabine kneading dough, Tom separating it into pans. Silence settled over the kitchen, and Marinette wilted in the tense atmosphere. She set the flowers on the counter and took her seat on the stool between them.

She was able to wait until the bread was in the oven before breaking the silence.

"Uncle Cheng put the flowers I got him in his Celestial Soup," she said. "Maybe we could decorate some of our bread with the roses?"

Tom and Sabine looked at her, then the roses. Together, they reached out to gather a few petals, their hands touching on the stem of the biggest flower as a black butterfly landed on it.

Marinette felt her eyes widen, and then she was screaming.

 =•=•=•=

 The boy was young.

But he had experienced the pain of heartbreak yet again.

Was he just not lovable? Was he too headstrong, too much of a pushover? What had he done to deserve being saddened like this?

He didn't blame his ex. No, he was just too sensitive. It hurt so. Fucking. Much. But it was his fault.

It didn't make him feel any better when he saw couples walking hand-in-hand down the street. Or kissing beneath the stars. Or snuggling in the shade of a tree.

But it was all his fault.

But it's not, said a voice in his head. They could be more considerate of you. They could watch what they do or say. They could make sure it would help you, rather than ignore you. I can help you break apart even the most loving of families. But I just need you to do something for me, first. Something secret. You must be subtle. You can't let anyone know what you're doing. Can you do that, Rifter?

Rifter smiled. "Yes, Hawkmoth."

 =•=•=•=

 "Mama! Papa! Don't listen to him! Don't listen to him!" she screeched, her voice rising and her throat raw. Without thinking, she tore the tainted rose from their hands - and immediately stilled.

What do we have here? whispered a voice in her mind. I've never noticed your presence before. How have you hidden from me all this time?

"I-"

There's some strong magic here, isn't there? She could feel Hawkmoth's cruel smile. Magic that can only come from another Miraculous. Have I finally found you, Ladybug?

"No..." she whispered, but Hawkmoth taunted her more. "No. No, no, no, no, no, no, No!" Her voice grew louder, louder, loud enough to snap her parents out of their daze. Finally, she shouted, clutching her head, thorns digging into her palms.

"I am not Ladybug!"

Dark mist exploded from her hands at her outburst, swallowing her, suffocating her.

She was drowning.

 =•=•=•=

 Gabriel Agreste had magic.

It was he that terrorized Paris. It was he that set civilians' inner demons free. It was he that took advantage of the weak.

Yes, he was Hawkmoth.

And he wasn't sure if it was just latent power he'd always had, or if it was a side effect of wielding his Miraculous, but he could sense people.

He couldn't tell who they were, he couldn't tell what they were feeling, but he could tell they were there.

It was a useful ability, if somewhat limited. He could tell when someone was about to knock on his door. He could examine his whole house if he stretched his senses to the max. He could check on Adrien, Nathalie, and his other employees by doing that, but it wore him out.

But the best thing?

The best thing that had happened had been finding out Ladybug's identity.

How had he done it?

Observational skills. She'd been close the few times he'd met her. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her body.

But she gave off no aura.

There was nothing, no hint of life coming from where she was. He concentrated on her, testing his power, trying to sense something, but he failed. It was like she didn't exist. Like he was gazing upon the ghost of a girl with pale skin and blue eyes and dark hair tied into ponytails. Empty. Void.

Even Chat Noir had a faint presence.

Ladybug did not.

He never got an answer as to why - the book he'd learned about the Miraculous from had disappeared. And he could never get much out of Nooroo. But when he told the kwami about it, he'd smiled. A small smile, a gloating smile, one that only reached his eye for a moment before his worries settled in again.

"Tikki is a master of shielding magic," he'd said. "Her charge is invisible to you."

"But what about you?"

His smile returned for half a second. "She can even fool me."

Gabriel walked away in disgust.

Weeks passed, the summer turning to fall before he came across Ladybug's lack of presence again.

Only this time, she wasn't wearing her suit.

She was just the ghost of a girl, with pale skin and blue eyes and dark hair tied into ponytails. She stood in the foyer of his home alongside Adrien, his friend Nino, and one other girl. He almost hadn't noticed her.

It was only after she spoke up, with sparkling eyes and gentle voice, that he even knew she was there. His eyes caught hers, giving her an intimidating stare that she met head-on. He'd been on the verge of kicking them out when she told him all they wanted to do was study. It would help Adrien as well, right?

It took him mere seconds to realize he was looking at Ladybug.

He'd been so elated, he allowed their request.

He asked Adrien about her.

He learned her name.

He kept an eye on her.

And now he had the perfect opportunity to draw her in.

"Well then, Rifter," Hawkmoth whispered, "your mission is to tear apart the Dupain-Cheng family."

[goddessapostless]

The Lonely Prince 5

The Twelve Huntsmen

Ch. 1 // AO3 // FFN

Kim was always prepared for anything, but that was only if you asked him. To others, he was the least prepared of all their classmates. (But his best friend was Max, who seemed to have everything needed for any situation. They made a good pair.)

If there was anything all good Parisians were prepared for, it was an akuma attack. They constantly checked the news before heading out, just to see if it was safe. But even if there was no warning, they were able to take it all in stride. All they had to do was run, and if that was unavailable, wait for Ladybug and Chat Noir. That's just what living with the attacks for a year did, they supposed.

So when Kim found himself confronted with one, he did exactly that - he ran. But man, akuma were fast. This one caught up to him in no time and trapped him, told him about his scarf, and slapped a crown on his head.

Which is how he found himself facing eleven other Kims. They were all identical to him, from their spotless shoes to their pompadour hair. Wait, scratch that - the bleached part of his hair was dyed a different color on the others. Pink, blue, red, purple, and so on. Absently, he noticed that they matched the crown he couldn't seem to remove - it was a silver crown with twelve spires growing from the base; at the top of each spire was a gem whose color corresponded to one of the Kims.

"So... What?" he asked, staring between his clones.

"Don't you remember?" said one, his hair ghostly white. "The Prince is your lover, isn't he? You hired us to pose as huntsmen to get close to him."

Kim blinked. "I don't even know the Prince," he said, his nose wrinkling.

"Then why are we here?" asked one whose hair was its natural black. He put his hands on his hips and turned to the green-haired Kim that spoke up.

"Well, we're here now. Might as well bask in the Prince's gracious hospitality."

There was a beat of silence.

"WOOHOO!"

Kim severely hoped the cleanup was magical. He wasn't quite sure how anyone would fix the torn mattresses or get the pizza sauce off the ceiling. But man, that night was wild. He wouldn't change a thing, given the chance to try again.

Well, for the most part. He kind of wished he had gotten more sleep when an attendant came to wake him and his clones up at the crack of dawn.

"Milord," said the man as he knocked on the door of the room, "the Prince requests you and your party in the Great Hall."

"Uuuuuuuugh," multiple Kims moaned in reply.

"Five more minutes," mumbled one with orange hair.

But the attendant was persistent, and wouldn't relent in his knocking and calling. It took ten minutes for all twelve Kims to wake up, and another hour for them to get ready. ("Whose idea was it to only have one bathroom for twelve people, anyway?")

But by the time they were cleaned up, they were more than awake enough to face the day. Between that and the coffee that someone brought them, they had enough energy to outshine the sun.

"Race you to the hall!" Kim shouted as he ran through the door. "Last one there has to buy lunch for everyone!" He laughed when he heard the clamor of a dozen footsteps behind him as everyone slid into their shoes and shot out the door. Sure, the threat of paying for everyone was empty; they were guests in a palace, they didn't have to buy a thing. But winning for the sake of it was a good enough reason to go as fast as they could. The never ending desire to win was Kim's pride as an athlete, one that was replicated in every clone.

They were so lost in their game, however, that they didn't notice the peas strewn about the floor of the Great Hall.

Cursing as one dug into the middle of his foot, Kim hopped around on one leg as he brushed it off. Another Kim barreled into him, knocking him to the floor and falling on top of him. The rest came soon after, forming a pile in the doorway.

"What is this?" demanded a strong voice from the front of the room. Kim looked up and waved at the akuma from earlier.

"Heeeey, are you the prince-dude? I thought you were just an akuma."

"I am the Prince, yes. What are you doing on the floor?"

"Racing. By the way!" He crawled out from beneath the pile and pointed to a blue-haired clone. "Lunch is on you!" He laughed, and the rest of his clones joined him. (Minus the blue one. He just made noises of despair as he checked his wallet.)

The Prince hmphed. "I was warned you might be barbarians, but this goes beyond my expectations. I should have you jailed for fail-"

"Woah, woah, wait wait wait!" Kim cut off the Prince. "Go to jail? For tripping over some - are those peas? - when we were preoccupied? That hardly seems fair."

The Prince crossed his arms. "The story does test the princess multiple times," he said mostly to himself. "But then they did pass them all. Then again, they did have help. Oh, I wish Plagg were here! He could help me sort this out."

"Who's Plagg?"

"My lion," the Prince replied, waving his hand absently. Kim's eyes widened.

"You have a lion?!" he asked, hopping up and down in excitement.

"Yes, if course" The Prince answered as of it were common knowledge. "He's beautiful and black and gives the best advice." He sighed, and mumbled to himself, "I just wish he were the real Plagg."

But Kim didn't catch that part. "Gives advice? Do you have a talking lion?"

"Yes," the Prince sighed again. "I'm tired of this conversation. Go back to bed."

"But I just woke-yawn-up." Kim's eyelids started drooping. "Maybe I'm more tired than I thought." He followed his clones back to the room they shared and fell into his bed.

The Kim woke up feeling better than ever. He sat up, stretched, and yawned. The Prince really did know luxury. Speaking of the Prince...

Knock knock knock. "The Prince requests you and your party in the Great Hall."

There were more groans again today, even though all the clones had slept well. Kim just wasn't a morning person. But he dragged himself out of bed and walked to the Great Hall, the line of colorful Kims following suit. His heavy-lidded eyes popped open when he noticed an array of baseball bats lined up along the wall.

He ran towards them as his clones lined up in front of the throne. There were bats of every size, every weight, every material! Picking up a heavy metal one, he swung it around as if hitting an invisible ball.

"Yo! Dude! Are we playing baseball today? I got a pretty great team if you ask me!"

"You are a hunting party. If we do anything together, it will be hunting."

The Prince did not sound amused.

Kim twirled to meet his gaze, fear running through him at the Prince's angry eyes. He gulped, then set the bat down gently. Quietly, he walked to join his group and stuttered out an apology. The Prince narrowed his eyes, glaring down at Kim, and cleared his throat.

"I was hoping to arrange an outing. There is a pack of wild dogs roaming the nearby woods, attacking villages and stealing food. You and your huntsmen-" he hissed the word "-would be a great help in subduing them."

"Yes, Your Highness. Of course." Kim said, solemn.

"Good. We leave in an hour."

Kim's horse whinnied in aggravation, not used to such an unskilled rider. That was what Kim thought it was doing, anyway.

He really hoped it wasn't about to throw him.

They rode deep into the forest, the Prince's men tracking the dogs while his were at the ready with spears and crossbows. He even had a clumsy grip on his own spear, though he had no idea how to use it. Truth be told, he would have preferred a crossbow. Those were easy - just pull the trigger, right? He grimaced as he realized he had no flipping clue how weapons in general worked. Maybe it would be best if I didn't have a weapon at all.

But he was scared to go against the Prince's orders. There was a cold glint in his eye that spoke of immeasurable anger. If he defied the Prince in any way, he would be punished horribly.

So he kept quiet as the Prince led the party to the top of a cliff and just took in the view.

"Sure is gorgeous up here," he said.

"Indeed." The Price nodded, then turned to his advisor. (Is that Mr. Damocles? thought Kim) "When do we need to be back at the palace?"

"Not until dusk." Damocles stared up at the sky, studying the position of the sun. "That gives us another five hours."

"I though you were in control here," Kim told the Prince, "don't you get to decide when you come and go?"

"I have guests coming tonight. My fiancé, a princess from another kingdom."

"You found your princess? That's awesome!"

"What?" The Prince looked taken aback. "You're happy about that?"

"Yeah! That means you found the one who made your scarf, right? Way to go!"

The Prince's mouth dropped open. He huffed, then glared at Kim. "I should have stopped this at the peas," he muttered. "In any case, you've failed these trials."

"Trials?"

"You tripped over the peas in the Great Hall-"

"We were racing!"

"Your attention went straight to those clubs this morning-"

"Clubs? Those were baseball bats!"

"And now you don't care that I'm betrothed to someone other than you?" The Prince scrunched his nose. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected much from you in the first place." He waved his hand and the horse Kim was using disappeared, making him fall to the ground with an Oof!

The Prince stood over him, more menacing atop his mount. Kim held his spear against his chest, clutching it in protection. With shaking hands, he tilted it until the head was pointed at the Prince. And then he fell, the world around him disappearing as he fell through the hole.

Next Chapter

[goddessapostless]

As Time Ticks On

"It's like a Ladybug," she tells him. "A sign of good luck." Her luck couldn't be any worse, he thinks. [Grim Reaper AU, Character Death]

1.4k // AO3 // FFN

12:00

She tends her garden at 12:03 exactly.

An odd hobby for the middle of the night, he thinks as he checks the watches on his wrist. He immediately focuses on the bottom one - the cute red one with the polka-dotted face. The hands are stuck, unmoving, both on the twelve. One year.

He glances upwards when she sets her watering can down to rub her arms. A cat dances between her feet, mewing loudly for the warmth of inside.

"Okay, Tikki," she says with a laugh. "Let's go to bed." She opens the hatch and disappears inside, clicking her teeth until Tikki follows.

12:07

She tends her garden at 12:03 exactly.

But never during the day. Well, maybe. He was never around when the sun was. As far as he knew, she only did this in the dark of the night. It certainly proved true for the past month and a half he'd been watching her.

Usually she only waters her plants. But tonight, she is moving some into a bigger pot, one that she could easily hide in. The weight of it as she hefts it into the roof almost knocks her over the railing, and he almost rushes forward to help her, but she rights herself with a nervous giggle. Breathless, she sets it down, and breathless, he calms his pounding heart. 12:10

She always feels safe at night, and this night is no different. To hell with the feeling that she's being watched! To hell with the idea that someone has been spying on her for the last two months! It's paranoia is all, brought on by the way the news speaks of murder and war as if their the latest trends.

She opens the hatch to her roof and shivers at the rush of ice and snow. Ignoring her need for warmth, she climbs up, more intent on helping her poor plants. It's as she finishes with them that she notices the darkness on the roof across from her.

She squints at it, wondering why that one patch on the roof of the school wasn't covered in snow. She leans forward, trying to get a better look, and slips on some ice.

Her hands flail, bumping the rail, the table, the ground, and she feels weightless for a second before gravity kicks in and she plummets. I wish I could brace myself, she thinks as she's falling, but it's over before even she thought it could be.

Strong arms have caught her and she wonders for a moment if she's still alive. The pain in her wrist suggests yes, but the stranger with the beauty of an angel suggests no. He hugs her to his chest, carrying her like a princess as he jumps from the ground to her roof. He sets her down with a gentleness she has seldom felt before, and is gone before she can even catch her breath.

12:22

He finally shows himself again.

It only took two months. Maybe he was out there watching her before she saw him again, though. She was always looking for him, but if he could make from the school to her in one jump, and from the ground to her roof in another, he could probably hide if he wanted to.

But she always waits for an hour or so, in her warmest blanket, a mug of tea in her hands and a thermos in her lap. She's almost fallen asleep in this position on the night he returns, and she blinks away her sleepiness in favor of offering him the thermos. His eyes flicker down to it, then up to her face.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and she smiles.

"Saying thank you," she replies. "You saved me from falling before, remember?"

Worry and guilt play across his face in a near imperceptible second. But he nods and takes the tea from her, giving her a small smile in return. They don't speak until he finishes it and he ushers her into her room to sleep in her bed and instead of the deadly cold.

12:32

His one visit turns into two, then three, then weekly, and finally he's there every night, waiting for her to open her door. In the beginning, they would sit inside her room and talk for hours. When it's warm, they stay outside, watching lights sparkle on the river until the sun comes up. He chastises her for her challenging sleep schedule. She just laughs it off and tells him not to worry, she can handle it.

It's a warm night that passes mostly in silence when she finally asks why he wears so many watches. He stiffens and rubs them, one by one. A trying task, considering they run from his wrist to his elbow on both arms. He lists names as he does it, one per watch, until he reaches one one the wrist of his left hand. He studies it for a brief moment before moving on, leaving that one unnamed. She takes that hand and studies the watch herself, absently noting that he is now watching her.

"It's like a Ladybug," she tells him. "A sign of good luck."

Her luck couldn't be any worse, he thinks.

12:40

"...beloved teacher Caline Bustier bravely defended her students..."

The name rings a bell in Marinette's mind. She thinks back to where she heard it, along with three others she'd recognized recently. She writes them down in her notebook, along with where she saw them last. She grimaces as she realizes she read those other names in the obituaries.

But they were in her head before that. Where they came from, she did not know. It took her a long time thinking to remember the way she'd heard them said - in a deep voice in the dead of night, rubbing a watch that seemed associated with it.

12:50

There's a chill in the air. Adrien almost doesn't go to her tonight. She's been getting closer to the truth, he knows. He should stay away, start distancing himself.

But she is so addictive. She is the honey that draws in the flies, the light that attracts the moths. He cannot help himself, he is drunk on the pleasant wine that is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and all he can do is crave more. His duty be damned! His guilt be damned! He will not allow any harm to befall her. Who cares what divine punishment be cast upon him?

(He knows she does. She wouldn't want him hurt for any reason whatsoever, it doesn't matter if he's brought it on himself.)

12:59

There's an accident in the park. A man falls asleep at the wheel of his car and it barrels onto the busy playground. It's a miracle no one was hurt.

Well, almost no one. There was one woman that pushed a little girl out of the way. Her last thought was of green eyes and blond hair and watches, so many watches.

The one they belong to is kneeling beside her as her final breath escapes her chest. He helps her stand, and she wants to look to her feet but knows she shouldn't.

Instead she looks at him. At Adrien, with his tear-stained cheeks and guilty eyes. He refuses to look at her, and it takes her lifting his head to meet his eyes. She knows what he is, what he has to do. She tells him this, and he breaks down, crushing her to his chest and sobbing into her shoulder. She lets him cry, but urges him, with all the gentleness he's shown her, to make a promise with her.

He nods, but doesn't speak, knowing his words will be little more than cracks and hiccups.

--:--

The cute red watch is gone now. It disappears at her funeral, as they always do. He's never attended one before, but he's never been that close to anyone before either.

After all is done, he stays by her grave. He stays there, sitting in front of it and just looking. No one approaches him. No one comforts him. But as day turns to night, and night ticks away into morning, he knows he has to move.

He goes into the city.

He goes to her roof.

He puts food out for Tikki.

He sits to watch the lights sparkle on the river.

He hates that he's alone now.

But there's something he has to do.

He tends her garden at 12:03 exactly.

[goddessapostless]

The Lonely Prince 3

Snow White and the Seven Dwarves

Ch. 1 // AO3 // FFN

"I need Alya!"

"What?"

"Please, Miss Bustier! Adrien's been turned into one of those monsters! The ones that Ladybug and Chat Noir fight? He kidnapped Chloé! Alya knows how to contact Ladybug, doesn't she?"

Sabrina had rushed to the school when she read the note. No one was in the classroom, but she'd found Miss Bustier in the halls. Panting, she described the situation in greater detail.

"This is serious," Bustier said as she scanned the paper. "We need to warn the class. Do know how to reach them?" Sabrina shook her head. She only had a few of their phone numbers. "Well, we need to cancel class, at least. You see if you can find Alya anywhere in the city. I'll go talk to Mr. Damocles. I'm sure he can alert their parents, at least."

"Rose, sweetie! Your principle just called. Classes have been cancelled for today."

"Thank you, Papa." Rose kissed her father on the cheek and walked out of her house, calling an "I'm going to hang out with Juleka!" over her shoulder. She had a whole weekend to look forward to, and they had planned on as many dates as possible.

Which, to be honest, would probably be only two or three. But she didn't care. As long as she was with Juleka, she would be happy.

She had just walked out of her apartment When she was engulfed by a bubble and floated to a boy who stood across the street. He joined her inside it, tasking her hand and kissing it.

"Ah, sweet Princess, how I've longed to meet you."

Rose giggled. "I'm no princess," she said. "But I am late to meet up with mine."

"Your princess? Juleka?" She nodded. "Oh, don't worry. You'll see her soon enough, I'm sure. But right now, I need help finding my princess. Can you do me a favor?"

"Maybe. But that depends. Who are you, first of all? Why should I potentially miss my date for you?"

"Oh! Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Lonely Prince." Placing a hand against his chest, he bowed. "I was given a gift on my birthday one year ago, and I thought it was from my father." He straightened, his eyes boring holes into her. "It was not. It was from one of my classmates, and I want to know who suffered from this injustice brought about by my father's negligence."

Rose thought for a moment. His birthday? A year ago? Isn't there someone who has a birthday around now? "Adrien?"

"I want to know who gave me my scarf."

"Well it wasn't me, I can tell you that much."

"Well, we'll see now, won't we?"

"What do you mean?"

"I have a test for you. It'll tell me if you really are the one who did it or not."

"But I'm not!" she insisted.

He took her hands. "I can't believe that, Rose. I told everyone that scarf was from my father, and no one ever spoke up. Why would whoever gave it to me do that now? Trust me, you'll be fine." Rose tried to protest, but Adrien silence her when he slipped a crown onto her head.

The crown was gold, with one spire that expanded into a cloud of green dotted with red rubies. It was an apple tree, plain and simple, and she barely had time to grab it before she was whisked away to a field of wildflowers.

Distracted by their beauty, Rose tucked her encounter into the back of her mind. Surely someone who could make such a wonderful place couldn't be so bad.

It was an hour of frolicking later when a shadow fell over her. Gasping, she turned and jumped backwards, arms held up in defense. With wide eyes she looked at a big, burly man - Adrien's driver. He hovered above her, a long hunting knife in his hand. Squeaking, she scrambled away, yanking grass from the ground and staining her clothes. He raised his arm, the blade of the knife flashing in the sun, and brought it down beside her.

"I can't do it," he breathed, falling to his knees. "I can't hurt such an innocent creature." He lifted his head to meet her eyes. "Run, child. Run deep into the woods, or you'll be dead by the queen's hands."

Rose gulped. She didn't know what was going on, but she did know this man was saving her life. "R-right." She stood and started towards the forest, but stopped before it. Turning back, she ran to the man and placed a crown of flowers on his head. "Thank you," she told him, and then she disappeared.

Running through the trees was easy. She was small enough to slip through the tangles and beneath low-hanging branches. As day turned to a chilling night, she came across a clearing with a house sitting in the middle.

It was a quaint place, with stone walls and a thatched roof. Rose approached it cautiously, sneaking from bushes to stump, observing it carefully. From what she could see, it looked abandoned - something that gave her both relief and fear.

She opened the heavy wooden door and entered, pausing to let her eyes adjust to the darkness. She stepped deeper into the house, scanning the room - a simple sitting room with an adjacent kitchen. Walking over to the rather large fireplace, she set kindling and logs in it and lit it with the matches that were sitting on the mantle. She blew on the spark, hoping it would ignite. It died, along with her hope.

Pouting, she took the matches and used them to light her way around the house. Her search revealed a staircase at the back, leading to a hallway. The doors on either side ran along the length of the house, separating the upper floor into rooms. She ran her fingers along the first door and pushed it open.

Inside was a clean room. She walked in and studied the lavish furniture - a desk in the corner and a chair for it; a small table at the window that held an array of flowers; a cushy bed that she sank into with a sigh.

She'd only meant to sit for a minute. She really did. But when she closed her eyes to rest, she found herself exhausted. She drifted off to dreams of dancing, her dress swishing and swaying, intermingled with colors she could never imagine.

It was a shock when she woke to faces hovering over her. Blinking her weariness away, she mumbled a greeting. She was rubbing her eyes when one person stepped forward.

"Who are you?" he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"My name's Rose. I was just taking a nap, I guess. Sorry about that."

"Rose?" A look spread amongst the people - Seven of them, Rose counted. And they all look like people I've seen from school. There was Aurore and Mirielle and that boy with the purple pants and a few others that she recalled only the faces of. They turned to her, and one asked, "Rose as in her Highness, the Princess?"

"I'm not the princess." Rose shook her head, then tilted it. "The queen has something against me, though. Adrien's driver told me to run or she'd kill me."

"That sounds like her," Aurore said. Everyone turned to look at her, and she shrugged. "She's incredibly vain. Her bad attitude, plus the princess' kind nature and 'enchanting beauty-'" she made air quotes "-makes the princess a threat to her crown."

"Well, in any case," continued the boy in the purple pants, "the queen has put a hit out on her own stepdaughter. If the kingdom catches wind of that, it could lead to a revolt-" ("A well-needed one," mumbled Aurore) "-and if that happens, the princess will be able to take over. We must keep her safe until then."

"It's not a problem," Rose said. "I doubt the queen even knows I'm still alive."

"Ah! You're back!" Chloé ran to the Gorilla and hopped up and down. "Did you do it?" she asked excitedly.

"Yes," he told her, holding out a box. "Her heart is-"

"Ew! I don't care about that! Now leave!" She pushed him out the door and rushed to open the secret compartment with the magic mirror. "Plagg!" she yelled at it, knocking against the glass. "Plagg Plagg Plagg!"

"I hear you!" it yelled back at her. Chloé found it odd that it spoke with Adrien's voice, but dismissed it when his face appeared. "I've told you, time and time again, to use the rhyme!"

"But this is much faster." She pouted before smiling widely. "So tell me, who's the most beautiful, gorgeous, amazing person in the world?"

"Still Princess Rose," he said with a sigh. Chloé gaped.

"No way! You told I would be if he got rid of her!"

"He didn't get rid of her." His face bobbed as if he'd shrugged. "She's still alive, just run away."

"Whatever. She's gone now, no problem." Chloé picked up a hand mirror and started messing with her hair.

"There is a problem," Plagg said. "The people are... Unhappy about the stunt you pulled." The surface of her own mirror flashed, playing scenes of farmers and workers huddling in groups and gossiping. One image even showed them grabbing torches and pitchforks.

"Are you telling me they plan on killing me because I tried to have Rose killed?"

"Yes."

She groaned. "I told you that was a bad idea! Why did I listen to you! You're probably lying about the whole 'omnipotent' thing, too. Honestly! I never should have believed you! There's no one in the world that's prettier than me! Ugh!"

"Are you done?" Irritation was unusual on Adrien's face, and Chloé had to remind herself that this wasn't Adrien, but some being that called himself Plagg.

"Yes."

"Then I have a solution. If the Princess dies, so does the hope of the people. I have some magic to teach you..."

The sun was shining. The day was grand. Rose skipped through the forest after her seven new friends. They'd insisted she stay at their house, hidden, but she'd insisted on going with them. And she picked every flower along the way.

"To brighten up the house," she'd say when she got a weird look. "You can never have too much color."

And it was the colors of the merchant booth that caught her eye when they passed it. It sat on the edge of a nearby road, surrounded by hundreds of flowers, books, ribbons, and - Rose gasped.

"Are those stickers?!"

She raced to the table. Sitting on its top were pages upon pages of glittery scrapbooking stickers. She hopped up and down, laughing, and ran her hands over them. The girl behind the counter chuckled with her.

"Like what you see?" she asked, sliding more sheets onto the table.

"Of course!" Rose exclaimed, "How could anyone not?" She shuffled through the pages of stickers and chose a few she liked. "How much?"

The girl waved her hands. "Take them."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's rare to find someone who shares my enthusiasm for this stuff." She smiled, and Rose dug through her pockets. She pulled out a few coins and placed them on the table. The girl eyed them. "I said no cost."

"It's okay! You have to make money somehow, don't you?"

"In that case, take this, too." She pulled a purple ribbon from her lap. "You can use it as a necklace or something."

Rose took it tentatively. "Are you sure?"

"Yep!" Her smile pulled at her lips now, looking forced. Rose ignored it and tied the ribbon loosely around her neck.

"Thank you!" Smiling, she hugged the stickers to her chest to rejoin the others.

"Where have you been?" asked one girl - Juliette, Rose remembered.

"Just getting something to make the house prettier."

"More flowers?" Juliette smiled gently. Her smile faltered when Rose's eyes bugged out. "Rose?"

Her hands flew to her neck, gripping the ribbon that tightened around it. Juliette screamed her name again.

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe no matter what she did. She sank to the ground, clawing at the grass, until a flash of silver entered her vision. She heard a sob, a snip, and then the ribbon fell from her neck. Blinking, she looked up to see the girl from the booth sitting across from her, scissors in hand.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. She threw her arms around Rose, holding her tight as she cried into her shoulder. "The queen- she made me do it! She threatened my family! Please, please forgive me!"

Rose blinked. "What...?"

The girl pulled back and rubbed her cheeks. Sniffling, she explained, "The queen... She told me to give you. It's enchanted, to k-kill you. I'm so sorry!" she cried again, sobbing into her hands.

Rose looked around, to the people surrounding her. Something about this was familiar to her. She shook her head, shaking the feeling away. "It's fine," she said, placing her hand on the girl's shoulder. She smiled.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "Please, Princess, be careful. The queen is cunning. If she knows you're still alive, she'll come after you again."

"She obviously has a way to know, though. Otherwise she wouldn't have done this."

"Don't go into town."

"I know."

"Don't talk to any strangers."

"I've known that since I was ten."

"Don't eat any strange mushrooms."

"That has nothing to do with the queen. Also, that's basic survival 101."

"Well, then just a few more..."

Rose groaned as Juliette continued talking even as she was dragged out of the house. She heard her voice all the way to the edge of the meadow before it disappeared.

And then silence filled the house. Sighing, Rose set out to find vases. She still had a bundle of flowers from yesterday to keep healthy, and with everyone doting on her since her accident, she hadn't had a chance to water them properly. Even now, they looked somewhat wilted, having been shoved into one overcrowded bowl.

And she still had stickers, too. Sure, she'd bought them from the same person who gave her the enchanted ribbon, but that didn't make them evil. So, once her flower issue had been settled, she decorated the walls, sticking a rainbow here, or a smiley face there. Each door upstairs got its own sticker, too. Her final objective was her room - or the room that had been designated as hers.

Cone to think of it, she thought as she plastered several unicorns to the mirror in her vanity, I haven't had a chance to explore.

She didn't know what she expected. Maybe a hidden room in the back of the closet, or hidden jewels beneath a loose floorboard. Perhaps there would be a long lost love letter tucked among the pages of a book. But no, she had no luck. The closet was bare, the floor was steady, and the only thing she got from thumbing through the books was a paper cut.

Sighing, she sank onto the bed. She rolled to one side, then the other. She rolled to the edge of the bed, then to the wall. Man, staying at home all day was boring. She rolled back to the edge of the bed and sat up, squeezing the blankets between her fingers. Something crinkled under her palm, and she removed her hand to find the back of the sticker paper. She gathered the discarded papers and opened the drawer of her bedside table to hide them.

"Ooooh, what are you?" Nestled in a silken box, much like one acquired from a jeweler, was a comb. It was just sitting there, in the drawer. Rose was sure she'd checked it earlier, and there was nothing in it before. She poked the comb with a tentative finger, withdrawing her hand as soon as she touched it. Rubbing the finger with her other hand, she inspected it and found no damage done. She gave the comb a few more pokes before finally picking it up.

It was decorative, that she knew. Meant to sit in your hair to accent an outfit. And expensive, too. It was gold, with shimmering gems that looked to be the highest quality. Rose walked to the mirror and held the comb behind her ear - or maybe it would look better on top of her head. Squinting, she adjusted the comb until it looked good - and then threw it to the vanity in exasperation.

"My hair's too short, and this tiara's in the way."

~

(The entire castle shook with the queen's furious screeches.)

She never knew how messy cooking was. Marinette could cook. Alya could (almost) cook. Juleka could make amazing dishes out of like three ingredients.

But Rose?

Rose was not gifted in the culinary arts in any way, shape, or form. This was made glaringly obvious as she stood, covered head-to-toe in flour, sugar, and honey. With a matching kitchen. Blinking her wide blue eyes, she started to clean up - beginning with herself. She wiped her face and dusted her clothes, then realized that would probably work better after she washed her hands. She had just gotten the majority of the flour off (leaving trace amounts on her dress) when she heard the voice in the window.

"My, my. What happened here?" A grizzled old woman was peeking in to the kitchen.

Rose shrugged. "Cooking is harder than it looks." She found a tag and started wiping the counter.

"You did all this?" The woman laughed. "And here I thought no one could be as messy as me! Would you like some help cleaning up?"

"I wouldn't mind some."

"Oh." The woman eyed the flour coating the walls and ceiling and scrunched her nose. "I'll send for my grandson. In the meantime, here." She hefted a basket onto the sill and unfolded a blanket covering brilliant red apples. She plucked one from the top and held it out.

Rose shook her head. "I couldn't. They're yours."

"Oh, I insist. You obviously can't feed yourself. Just eat it while I run home to get help."

Taking the apple, Rose held it to her nose and sniffed it. It certainly smelled delicious, nice and sweet. She lowered it to her lips and bared her teeth against it, about to take a bite, wondering why this situation felt so familiar. Smiling, she bit into it with a Crunch! and promptly fell to the floor.

The woman cackled, her skin rippling into a younger version of herself, and Chloé stood looking down at Rose's slumped form. "You're so gullible! I tried to kill you yesterday for crying out loud!" She laughed again and turned to walk away, but bumped into something and fell on her bottom. "Ugh! What the- Oh! Adrien!" She jumped up and threw herself at him, but he sidestepped and sent her sprawling to the ground.

"You tried to kill the princess?" he asked, glaring down at her. His eyes flicked to the window, where he could see Rose. "You did kill the princess."

"Uh, you knew that. you're the one that taught me the magic." She sounded smug.

"I did not." Glaring at her again, he gestured behind him. Two people grabbed her and pulled off her shoes, replacing them with iron boots.

"What are you doing?" Chloé asked, scared. She tried to pull away, to run, but was unable to. The bottom of the boots opened up and another person poured hot coals into them before closing them again. "Adrien, stop! Please!" Her wrists were tied to a branch above her, leaving her hanging in the boots as they heated up. A fire was started beneath her feet, and she started crying as pain seared her soles. Gasping, she begged him to let her go. Kicking, she tried to escape.

But Adrien ignored her, forcing open the door of the house. Kneeling beside her, he slid an arm under Rose's body and lifted her up, caressing her face.

"I'm so sorry, Princess," he whispered. "I was too late." Leaning down, he closed his eyes. "Just one kiss, before you're lost forever."

Hee hee hee.

His eyes snapped open. Rose was peeking at him through one half-open eye. She giggled again when she saw his shocked expression.

"You're supposed to be dead!" he exclaimed, dropping her. She landed with an oof! but immediately sat up and smiled at him.

"I figured it out! This is Snow White."

"You ate the apple! How?" He ignored her at first, but then she lifted the apple to his face.

"I only pretended to!" There was a ring of broken skin on the apple from where her teeth sank into it, but that was the only blemish. She beamed at Adrien, but he sneered in disgust. Her face fell. "Wait, this was the test, right?"

"No," he sighed. "You were supposed to act out the fairy tale."

"Oh. Sorry." She jumped when she heard Chloé scream. "What was that?" She turned to the window.

"Nothing," Adrien sighed. "But you fail. You let me down, Rose." He waved his hand, and with a squeak, she fell through the hole that opened below her.

Next Chapter

[goddessapostless]

The Lonely Prince 2

Chloé - The Princess and the Pea

Ch. 1 // AO3 // FFN

"Adrien's birthday is today?"

"Yes."

"What did I get him?"

"A collection of cologne from Gabriel. Here, he should be passing through here at any moment on the way back to school." Sabrina handed Chloé a gift-wrapped box the size of her head.

"Good! Now scram!" Chloé snapped. Sabrina ran away, heading to the other side of the street to watch. She gasped when Adrien turned the corner.

She waved her arms, trying to warn Chloé, but she was swept away into a bright blue bubble before she noticed. Sabrina ran to the bubble, hitting it with her palms. Inside, a confused Chloé looked at her before turning her attention to Adrien in a daze. She spoke, but the sound was high pitched and distorted, and the way she moved as she handed him the gift suggested that time was moving faster on the inside. Adrien glanced at Sabrina when Chloé wrapped her arms around him, a cruel smile on his face. A paper fluttered from his hands and landed on the sidewalk.

Don't worry, it read, I'll get to everyone. 

 Being sucked into Adrien's bubble was much nicer than being sucked into Nino's.

Of course, anything Adrien did would be better than anyone else in their class. It was still startling, though, when a cool film slid across her skin and Adrien - looking like he stepped straight out of a fairy tale - stole her attention away from Sabrina. He approached her confidently, a bounce in his step that she could only describe as smug. The mask hid his face, but Chloé could recognize him by just his eyes. She was his best friend, after all. She would always be able to recognize him.

"Adrikins! Happy Birthday! Here, I got you a present!" She lifted the box in her arms to him, and he took it graciously.

"Thank you, Princess." He winked at her as he opened it. "Ah! Wonderful! I suppose you have a matching set?" He raised an eyebrow at her, flirt filling his smile.

"Oh, of course I do!" she fibbed. Throwing her arms around him, she kissed him on the cheek. "Only the best for us, Adrien!"

"Of course." He settled his hands on her waist and pulled her in for a hug. After a moment, he leaned back. "The present you gave me last year... What was it?"

"Oh! It was, um- well..." Chloé chuckled. "I forgot! I buy so many things for the both of us, you know? It's hard to keep track." She stiffened at his crestfallen face. "Adrien," she started, voice oddly soothing, "is everything ok? What is all... This about?" She glanced down at his outfit, then traced the mask around his eyes with her fingers.

"Nothing to worry about," he said as he grabbed her hands. "Just do me a favor, ok Princess?" He winked, circling one of his fingers.

"P-Princess?" Chloé hid her smile behind her fingers. "I-"

"Shh." Adrien waved his arm, expanding the bubble. Chloé, so distracted by the city scenery changing into forest, didn't notice when he slipped away from her. When she turned back to him, she felt a weight settle on her head. She skimmed it with her fingers, then whipped out her compact (mirror) to get a good look at it.

What she saw was the most beautiful tiara she'd ever seen. She gasped as she studied it in the mirror. Golden vines threaded themselves carefully around one another, with silver leaves hanging from them. Several pod-shaped pieces of jade accompanied the leaves, all forming a peak at the center, where an emerald sat above it all.

The thing was gorgeous, to say the least. Even if it did clash with her outfit.

"Adrien!" she called, "Did you get this for me?" Excited, she looked all around for him, pouting when she didn't find him. What she did find, though, was a clear path laid out for her, with him (hopefully) at the end. Shrugging, she followed it.

And followed it.

And followed it.

She tried to use her phone's GPS, sure it'd find her way to... Wherever she was going. But it didn't work. In fact, nothing on her phone worked.

At least the forest was pretty. 

 The sun was setting.

That's how long she'd been on this stupid road.

There was dirt on her shoes, on her pants, and even in her hair. How atrocious.

And the sweat! Summer was still a month away, but the sun beat down upon her relentlessly. Thank god it was dying. Hopefully night would bring her a nice, cool, refreshing breeze-

"Where am I going to sleep?!" Chloé yelled into the trees. Tugging at her hair, she started jogging. Then she started running. She started sprinting when she heard the wolves howling in the distance.

It was only ten minutes later that she collapsed, tired and breathless. The wolves started howling again, closer, closer, closer.

She screamed. Terrified, she screamed and screamed, hoping to scare them away. It was when she paused to take a breath that she noticed the mansion she'd collapsed in front of.

Her eyes widened. She didn't see it before. She was sure it was just bushes and shrubbery just a moment ago. But it was safe, so she ran to the door and started pulling on it.

It opened inward, of course. She fell forward, knocking her elbows on the marble floor. Scrambling into the foyer, she slammed the door shut right as a dark shadow lunged for her. It hit the door with a Bang! and she gasped.

"Ok," she whispered, "where am I now?"

"In the summer home of his Highness, the Prince." said a timid voice. Chloé whirled to find Mirielle standing behind her, hand held out to help her up. She took it and, with surprising strength, was yanked to her feet. "This way, he wants to see you."

"The prince? Adrien?" She gasped, patting her hair and pants to shake the dirt off. "I need a bath first! I can't meet him looking like this!"

Mirielle glanced at her. "I suppose you should be presentable."

 The bath was amazing.

The tub was enormous, almost like a swimming pool. Waterfalls fell from the ceiling above her, offering places to shower. The water was warm and scented with roses. Chloé stretched out along a seat on the wall where jets massaged her back. "I'm in Heaven," she sighed, sinking beneath the water.

There was a knock on the door. "Miss Chloé, his Highness is asking about you."

Chloé groaned. She hadn't even used any of the nice-smelling soap that floated on the water in fancy cups. "I'll be right out!" she called as she grabbed one and half swam to the nearest waterfall. She stood beneath it, letting it wash the dust from her body. Dipping her hand into the soap, she spread it along her arms and legs and let it rinse off before rubbing some into her scalp, around the tiara she still wore.

She tried to pull it off again, but it wouldn't budge. Sighing, she left it alone and just let the water fall over her, warming her until she heard another urgent knock.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!" She wrapped a towel around herself and walked to where she had set her clothes earlier. They were completely clean, to her relief. They were expensive to buy and expensive to launder as well. She slipped them on and wrapped her towel around her shoulders to keep her wet hair off her back.

She felt amazing - that bath was luxurious in a way that her own home couldn't compare. She would almost hate to leave this wonderful place, even if she was under the spell of an akuma.

"This way," Mirielle led her to what looked like a grand dining hall, where Adrien sat on a grand chair on a raised dais.

"Adrien!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands and hopping forward. "I knew you'd be here!"

"Yes, but please - refer to me as the Prince." His eyes took on a hardness she'd never seen in him before, but then they softened. "Besides, it would be rude of me to call you 'Chloé' when I should be using Princess, you know?"

"Oh, yes!" She took a moment to consider what he said. "Wait! If you're the Prince, and I'm the Princess, does that mean I'm your Princess?"

"Of course!" Adrien laughed. "But we can talk more about that tomorrow. For now, why don't we get you something to eat and a bed for the night?"

At that moment, Chloé felt her stomach clench and growl, and she wanted nothing more than something warm and tasty. Adrien must have known, because he smiled and tapped his cane against the floor. Shadows emerged from between columns, carrying trays heaped high with every food she could imagine. She squealed when she spotted her favorites.

Lost amidst the sea of food, she heard Adrien tap his cane again. She watched as tables and chairs flipped from the floor, plates and goblets and silverware attached by magic. He hopped down from the dais, completely ignoring the stairs on either side, and settled at a center table. He waved her over and she skipped to him, taking the seat to his left. He gestured to the shadows that kneeled next to them. Licking her lips, she selected quite a few things - fruit and steak and something that looked like strawberry sorbet - and gobbled it down.

It was absolutely delicious. The best she'd ever tasted. She ate her fill as Adrien watched, and when she was done he took her hand.

"I'm sure you're tired by now," he said. "There are plenty of guest bedrooms here for you to use."

"I'm-" She tried to protest, but was interrupted by a yawn. Yes, she was tired. But it was a sudden exhaustion that made her dizzy. She wobbled in her seat, falling to the side. Adrien caught her before she hit the floor. "I guess I could use some sleep," she mumbled into his chest.

"I'll take you to the guest rooms, Princess."

'Princess' sounded so nice when it came from his lips.

Chloé woke up to the sun on her face. She blinked once, twice, then jerked into a sitting position. Or, she tried to, anyway, but her head banged against a wooden beam and she fell back down clutching it.

She cursed, rubbing her forehead, then the beam. What was it doing in her way? Whose idea was it to put it there? She crossed her arms, glaring at it.

It was then that she noticed how ridiculously soft her bed was. She sank into it, surrounded by down blankets and silk sheets and almost went back to sleep.

There was a knock on her door, and Adrien called out, "Princess! Are you up yet?"

Oh, yeah! she thought, My prince is waiting for me! Out loud she said, "Yes! I'll be right there!"

Normally she would have sat up and swung her legs over the mattress. But she didn't quite have the room for that here. So she scooted until her feet hung off the edge to search for the floor. She kept slipping, unable to find it, until she slid completely off the bed.

And found herself falling.

She screamed, her hands sliding along a stack of mattresses to find purchase, something to catch herself. She managed to capture a hanging sheet and stop herself. Looking down, she saw that she was about halfway to the floor - a good ten feet left to go. Why did rooms in mansions have to be so tall? Panting, she used the mattresses as a ladder, slipping her hands and feet between two of them as a rung and climbing down.

Adrien was waiting for her at the bottom. He seemed completely nonplussed, considering he just watched her almost fall to her death. You'd think having seen that, he'd be more concerned for his princess. But no, the first words out of his mouth when she threw her arms around him were, "So how did you sleep?"

Chloé was taken aback by its abruptness.

"I- What?! 'How did I sleep?' That's all?" She pressed her face to his chest, letting tears soak his shirt.

"Well? How did you sleep?"

Shocked, Chloé looked up at him before shrugging it off. "I slept fine," she said, "the bed was amazing! I could have gone without the fall to my doom, but if that's what it takes, then so be it. Adrien? What's wrong?" He'd frowned the second she'd started her praise.

"Nothing was wrong? Everything was perfect?"

"Everything you do is perfect!"

"Then you failed," Adrien sighed. "I was so hoping you wouldn't." He clutched his sash. "Sorry Chloé. It looks like you're not my princess."

"What do you mean? I failed what? If this was a test, you should have told me! I would have made Sabrina make me a cheat sheet!"

Adrien sighed again. "I'm sorry, Chloé." He walked to the bed and stuck his hand between the bottom two mattresses. It went in all the way to his shoulder, and he moved it around. Finally he pulled it out and showed her what he was looking for.

Chloé blinked at the pea that sat in the palm of his hand. "What is this?" she asked. "Is this a joke?"

"This is The Princess and the Pea, Chloé. You were supposed to be the Princess. You were supposed to be able to tell it was there."

"But- wait, I don't understand! I thought I was your Princess! That's what you said, isn't it?"

"But you aren't a true princess. Otherwise, you would have felt the pea and been unable to sleep."

"This isn't some fairy tale! How am I supposed to feel such a small thing under one mattress, much less twenty?"

"I'm sorry, Chloé. You fail." He tapped the crown on her head, and it disappeared. She felt a weight around her neck and a pressure on her wrists.

Chains. Iron cuffs and collars and chains. Adrien tapped the ground in front of her and it opened up, moving towards her. She backed to the bed, but the floor gave into a slide, and she went down screaming.

Adrien shook his head as the floor righted itself.

Next Chapter

[goddessapostless]

When Destiny Sings 3

Ch. 1 // Previous // AO3 // FFN

Her ankle wasn't broken.

She was eternally grateful for that. But she would still need crutches to get around, and she could only pray that Papillon decided to take some time off while she was healing. Ladybug would be out of commission for a while.

This was all Marinette could think about as she hobbled up to the second floor of her school the next Monday. Sure, it wasn't wise for her to be distracted while tackling a staircase on crutches. But she couldn't help it. Just like she couldn't help the flow of students that were rushing up the stairs around her. She forgave them whenever they bumped her, because they usually did offer an apology. She just wished they weren't so rough in the first place. It's not like they were running late - oh wait, there went the tardy bell.

Marinette sighed at the newfound peace as teachers entered classes and shut doors. When she made it to her class, she peeked into the window, finding Miss Bustier's attention turned to the board. She snuck in, slowed by the burden of her crutches.

Of course she attracted the attention of her classmates.

Now, Marinette wouldn't change any of her classmates for the world. (Well, almost. Chloé really needed to chill.) But for once she wished Alix didn't have a special interest in all things painful, bloody, and gory. The first thing she did when the class was released for lunch was give a low whistle.

"What happened there, Mari? Looks bad." She raised an eyebrow as she sat on Marinette's table. "Skating accident?"

"No. It's from the party," she replied, grabbing her bag from the floor. She pulled her lunch out of it.

"How badly do you have to dance to hurt yourself that bad?"

"It's actually from when Bruce attacked me."

"The akuma?" Alix's teasing tone faded, giving way to concern. It made Marinette pause.

"Wait, isn't Ladybug supposed to fix stuff like that?" Kim asked, his face pale. Marinette shifted her eyes to him, recalling the way he hated seeing injuries as much as Alix loved to.

"Well, uh-"

"She's supposed to, yeah," Alya answered for her. She rubbed Marinette's hair.

"So for some reason it didn't work on the class mom, huh?" Alix said nonchalantly.

"'Class mom'?" Marinette sputtered. She heard a snicker from in front of her and looked around Alix to Adrien and Nino.

"You have to admit, that sounds like you." Nino chuckled. Adrien laughed with him, and Marinette's cheeks flushed.

"Does- does everyone think that? That I'm the class mom?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Rose giggled as she walked by.

"With that kind of momentum, all of Paris will want to be smothered by her love." Adrien smiled at the groans he elicited.

"And that's why you're the class dad," Alix said as she rolled her eyes.

"Wait, what?"

"Please, dude." Nino started. "You make the worst jokes and puns. Only a middle-aged father of three would find them any fun."

Adrien pouted, grumbling. "They're funny."

"Sure they are." Alix slid off Marinette's desk and walked out the door, laughing the whole way.

After one lonely hour, people started trickling into the classroom. Marinette greeted them all as they came in, but jumped when Alix slammed a paper down on her table. She glanced between her hand and her face.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Your schedule. We've been talking." Alix answered, as if that was enough.

"'We' as in...?"

"We-" she gestured to the rest of the room "-have been talking about that." She pointed to Marinette's ankle. "Alya sent me pics, and it's pretty nasty. Since Ladybug's magic doesn't work on you, you can't be near akuma. This-" she tapped her fingers on the paper "-is a list of a few of the more athletic people in class, all assigned to get you out of danger should one attack. They have all been appointed an hour or two to watch you when you'd otherwise be alone."

Marinette's jaw dropped. "What?!" she squeaked. "No! I don't need to- I don't need this!"

"Well, you have it. Your own bodyguards." Alix left, throwing "This is non-negotiable!" over her shoulder.

Marinette was just beginning to skim the paper when Alya walked through the door.

"This is too much!" She held up the paper and wiggled it.

"I think it's a good idea."

"You guys can't just drop what you're doing just for me! You're just being overprotective!"

"Marinette." Alya took her hands, serious. "You're my best friend. Of course I want to protect you. I'm just looking out for you. Besides, everyone agreed to do it. It's not like we forced them."

"But-"

"No buts!"

Marinette crossed her arms and pouted, turning to glare at the people listed as her guardians. Kim, Ivan, Juleka, Alix, Adrien, Alya, Nino- wait a minute. She blinked, rereading the paper. She rubbed her eyes, thinking they might be playing tricks on her.

Adrien. Adrien was on the list.

"Y-y-you do can't this!" she said when she saw him. "I-I mean, you can't do this!"

Adrien blinked, surprised at her outburst. Then he noticed her schedule. "Yes, I can." He settled into his seat.

"But your schedule-!"

"Yo, no one wants anything to happen to the class parents, dude." Nino sat beside Adrien, who blushed at his remark.

"I told you to stop calling us that," he whispered.

"Why? You guys- oof!" He stopped when Adrien elbowed him.

Marinette blinked but shrugged her confusion away. She still had to stop this whole 'guard' business. It was ridiculous. Besides, it's not like there were going to be many more akuma that targeted her. Sure, the thing with Max was her fault, but she liked to think she'd learned from it. And Bruce was just a greedy, selfish boy who thought the world owed him everything.

Looking at the schedule once more, she saw it was mostly just people to walk her home in the evening and to school in the morning. With a start, she realized Adrien was to stay with her during lunch for the next month. She twirled to glare at Alix, gesturing to the lunch section and mouthing, 'Why Adrien?'

Alix snickered and flicked her eyes to Alya. Of course.

"Why Adrien?" she whispered. "You guys have him down for every lunch period, even after it should be healed."

Alya gave her a sly smirk that betrayed her intentions exactly. "It's the only time he's available," she told her with a shrug.

"Alya Cèsaire, I know what you're doing." Her tone was angry, but it was clear she was fighting a smile. She finally gave in and threw her arms around Alya. "Thank you!" she said, giggling.

Marinette was dizzy.

She tried to shake it away, but that made it worse. She tried to sleep it off, but it wouldn't leave. Two straight days of this, and you'd think she'd mention it to someone, but she didn't want to bother anyone with what was just a cold.

But still, her head swam. Which wasn't good considering the akuma she was facing. At least it was only the second one since she sprained her ankle, and her ankle was almost better.

Almost being the key word. She managed to cleanse the akuma with Chat Noir's help, but it was obvious she was still bothered by her injury. He may not know exactly what was going on, but he was intuitive. ("Are you okay, My Lady?" "I'm fine. I think I'm getting sick though.")

He did ask her about why she hadn't healed Marinette, but she had no answer. She herself was confused and-

And she really needed to get back to where her friends were before they started panicking. Marinette rushed her goodbye, running off to return to the place where Nino had hidden her - a cluster of bushes just beside the steps to the school.

She had just picked up her school bag when Alya poked her head through the leaves and smiled. "She's here," she called out behind her. Taking her arm, she pulled them to the front of the school, where a winded Adrien and Nino were sitting on the steps.

"You know, I don't need my crutches anymore," Marinette told them. "It's all better. Well, almost." There was that word again. And Alya brought it up.

"Almost is the point," she said. "Don't think I didn't notice your limping."

Marinette groaned. She thought she'd been able to hide it. Her friend was just too observant sometimes. Speaking of her friend...

"So tell me about what Ladybug and Chat Noir did against the akuma."

Alya's eyes sparkled. She'd been waiting for that. She started her spiel ("They were amazing! You should've seen it! Absolutely fantastic!")

She walked ahead with Adrien, both of them gushing, engrossed in conversation about their love of Ladybug. Nino and Marinette lagged behind, Marinette grateful for the slow pace Nino went for her. Her ankle didn't bother her much, really it didn't, but coupled with the astonishing dizziness that continued to grow and consume her, it made her feel weak.

As weak as her voice when she felt it overpower her.

"Hey, Nino?"

"Yes, Marinette?"

"I think I'm-" She didn't finish, and Nino looked over to see that she was falling. Swearing, he lunged to catch her.

"Marinette? Marinette!" His hands flitted across her face, pausing here and there to check for any sign of fever.

Adrien and Alya stopped at his frantic shouts. Turning, they raced back to where she'd passed out on the sidewalk. They had only just reached her when a car barreled into the store they were standing in front of before they ran back. Glass shattered everywhere, raining down on all four of them. The car - once nice, silver, and probably very expensive - was crumpled, the driver slumped over in their seat. A baby cried from the back of it, and Adrien whipped out his cell phone to call for help.

He also spared a moment to think about how he and Alya could have been crushed, but in a split second the thought was gone, replaced by concern for Marinette.

Her face was pale, her eyelids flickering. Her head lolled back when Nino lifted her, and her mouth was moving - muttering something unheard to the rest of the world. She whimpered a few times and then her breathing evened, and she was asleep.

When the emergency vehicles pulled up, the paramedics helped the people in the car - although one did walk over to check on them. After a quick explanation from Alya, he examined Marinette - who woke up as he finished. He asked her a few questions, and she admitted to her dizziness.

"And how are you feeling now?" he asked.

"Fine. I don't feel it anymore."

"And you say you have a rather busy schedule?" She nodded. "Then you may be over exerting yourself. Take it easy for the next few days, rest a little."

"Yes, sir." He left, and Nino helped Marinette stand up. Alya wrapped her in a strong-armed embrace while Nino and Adrien watched.

"Don't you dare pull that on me again, you hear?" Alya demanded. "Let someone know when that happens again!"

"It's just a cold, Alya. Don't worry about it." She smiled, but none of them felt relief.

[goddessapostless]

The Lonely Prince

When Adrien discovers the scarf from his father was stolen from a classmate, he sets out to find who it was. It wouldn't be so scary if he didn't borrow Hawkmoth's powers to do it, though. A sort-of Fairy Tale AU.

AO3 // FFN

Adrien glared at his phone, the message long gone since the screen faded to black. The message that was short and professional, one that should be sent from employer to employee, not father to son.

'Adrien, I can't make it to lunch today. I apologize.'

"At least he sent it himself," Adrien said with a bitter laugh. "That's more than I usually get out of him."

"It's okay, Adrien." Plagg floated to him, hovering in front of his face. "I'll always be there for you! Here, have some cheese!" Adrien smiled as Plagg lowered himself to the desk and plucked a small triangle from the pile.

"I got that for you remember?" He stroked the kwami's ears before standing.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back. I'm just going to see if he's in right now. I want to know why he cancelled." Adrien left, leaving Plagg to his cheese. Though his mood had lightened with Plagg's concern, the walk to his father's office brought the waves of anger crashing back.

He'd had enough of this absentee parenting. He wanted to talk to him, to enjoy meals with him, to bond with him like normal parents did with their normal kids. His sense of normalcy was already skewed, what with him having to run off at least once a week to fight akuma victims.

Was remembering his birthday really too much to ask for?

He grit his teeth as he neared the door. He froze, hand barely brushing the knob, when he heard Gabriel's voice.

"...his birthday?"

"Yes, sir," came Nathalie's reply. "He should be in his room now, resting before he returns to the collège. Would you like me to give it to him now?"

"No, not yet. Show it to me first. I don't want you to mess it up again. I want to make sure you got him something suitable this year, instead of stealing some scarf made by one of his classmates."

Adrien's breath left him in an audible whoosh A cold sensation rushed down his limbs, numbing his fingers. He fled, bolting through hall after hall, until he returned to his room. Plagg looked up curiously as he opened his closet and sat in front of it. He turned his attention to the door when he heard the clack of Nathalie's heels.

"Lock the door," Adrien said over his shoulder. Plagg did so, taking note of Adrien's hostile tone. When Nathalie knocked on the door and called for him, she was ignored.

"What happened?" Plagg asked as he flew closer to Adrien, keeping his voice low.

Adrien said nothing, finally pulling the scarf from its box on the floor. He studied it, ran his hands over it, looking for any place a tag or signature might be. Surely there must be a name hiding in the embroidered corners? Or a tag tucked beneath a loose seam? There must be something there.

He groaned when he found nothing, tears blurring his vision. He looked down at the scarf, his anger and sadness peaking inside him. He ignored when Plagg yelled at him, telling him to run away. He ignored the tugging at his sleeve, though he did wonder briefly how Plagg could be doing that while he was sitting on the scarf.

It was only when the black smudge on his lap dissolved into the scarf that he realized he was looking at an akuma.

He'd been targeted.

By Hawkmoth.

That's what his father drove him to.

He tried to resist, he really did. But when the deep voice whispered of lonely princes, mysterious princesses, and happy endings, he found himself agreeing. He deserved to be happy, didn't he? And all Hawkmoth wanted was his ring. Easy enough, right?

Except when he reached to pull the ring off his finger, it was already gone. Standing, he looked around, wondering where it went. His thoughts were interrupted when the black mist surrounded him.

He stepped forward, the remnants of the cloud forming twin coat tails. The scarf was bigger - wider and longer than it had been before, it was now draped across his chest, blazing a light, baby-blue over an indigo coat. His charcoal gray pants were loosely tucked into boots of a dark color he couldn't name. He walked to his wall of fencing trophies, choosing a foil to use as a weapon. With a quick shake and a flash of gold, he changed it into a diamond-tipped walking cane before heading out.

He stopped at his window to admire what he needed a reflection to see. His hair was longer, the ends flicked up into curls. A simple silver crown sat on his head, tilted slightly to the side. He smiled as he studied the mask - it was his favorite part of the ensemble. It was the same blue as the sash, flecked with the color of the coat, and faded into colorful gemstones that trickled down his cheeks.

His smile widened, as an idea occurred to him. He waved the cane at the door, allowing Nathalie entrance. She gasped softly when she saw him, a hand over her mouth. "Adrien?" she asked softly.

"I'm the Lonely Prince, now, searching for my princess." His hand grazed the sash, and Nathalie's eyes flickered with understanding. "I would make you an evil queen, but I suppose I should give you a chance, first. Or not," he snorted with a roll of his eyes.

Adrien traced a shape in the air between them, and a spinning wheel appeared. A crown glittered on Nathalie's head, and her hand moved on its own, finger reached out for the needle on the wheel. She opened her mouth to protest, to explain, but stopped as she felt the needle puncture her skin. She fell to his floor curling up on herself, her chest rising and falling in even breaths.

With a wicked laugh, the Prince jumped out the window, rolling as he hit the ground. Plagg zipped out after him, dodging the thorns that sprung from the grass where he touched his cane to the ground. Chat Noir's ring dangled from his small arms, and he flew high, looking for any sign of Tikki or Ladybug.

"What a way to start a weekend."

Next Chapter

[goddessapostless]

Not OK

Gabriel Agreste is Papillon. No one is ok with that.

AO3 // FFN

It can't be happening.

It can't be.

But it was.

Ladybug landed, a triumphant smile already in place as the pin in her hands dissolved into a simple circle, a pink kwami popping out. A flash of purple filled her vision, leaving after images of feathers floating through the air. She blinked them away to look at Papillon's unobstructed face.

And she gasped.

"Gabriel Agreste?"

Chat Noir, poised behind him to tackle him, slid when he tried to pounce and hit the ground with a thud. He propped himself up on his elbows, inspecting the back of the man before him. His eyes widened in horror as he took in the familiar suit, the rigid posture. The man turned to glare at the boy sprawled on the ground, and Chat Noir's heart jumped into his throat.

"Father?"

Gabriel blinked and walked over to him. Kneeling down, he took Chat Noir's chin between his fingers. Tilting it left and right, he hissed under his breath. "Adrien?"

"Adrien?" They both jumped at Ladybug's soft voice. Chat Noir hopped to his feet and stared at her, his eyes glowing as they reflected the little light seeping in through the window. He stepped towards her, his arm extended, as Gabriel stood behind him and glared.

The sight scared her, to say the least.

Gasping, hyperventilating as Chat Noir neared her, she stepped back. Chat Noir paused and looked between her and his father.

"Don't you miss your mother? I need the Miraculous. I'll find her. I'll bring her back. But I need the Miraculous to do it."

Sucking in a breath, Chat Noir turned back to her, pleading with his eyes. "Ladybug... I..." He glanced down at his ring. His fingers wrapped around it and tugged, and with a broken voice he whispered, "Please."

Marinette almost took her earrings out there and then.

But she didn't.

She ran.

She jumped out the window and ran away.

She didn't know what was guiding her.

All she knew was that she had to get away.

So she ran. Squeezing the pin so tight it cut into her palm, she ran. She swung from her yoyo with no destination in mind, but found herself hanging upside down outside Alya's bedroom window. The lights were off, the room empty.

Ladybug waited five minutes. Then ten. Then she repositioned herself, settling with her back against the glass when being upside down gave her a headache. Twenty minutes after that is when Alya finally walked in.

She immediately recognized the back filling her window. Gasping in excitement, she rushed to open it, and Ladybug fell against the floor, hitting it with and audible Thump! Alya gasped again and started apologizing until she noticed the way Ladybug rolled onto her side and curled into herself.

"Ladybug?" Ladybug started mumbling, shaking as she gripped her arms.

"It was him all along. It was... God I'm so stupid. And now..." She sniffed, and finally let the dam burst, wrapping herself around Alya as she cried into her shoulder. Her hands pulled against the plaid shirt as her tears drenched it, and she felt Alya rubbing her back.

"It's ok, Ladybug. I'm sure whatever it is, it can be fixed. Where's Chat Noir? He can help." Ladybug flinched, her sobs turning into muffled screams.

"Alya, he can't. He can't help. He's so loyal, he'd choose his father over anyone how am I... How am I supposed to..."

"Ladybug, what... What happened?" Ladybug shuddered against her, burying her head in the crook of her neck.

"It's his father, Alya. Papillon is his father."

"Whose?"

"Chat Noir's. Adrien's."

"Adrien... Agreste? Ah! Your earrings!" They were beeping at her, but she ignored it. Shivering again, Ladybug disappeared behind of wall of pink sparkles. Alya gasped. "Marinette?"

"Just a little while longer."

"Woah, dude! You look horrible!"

"Yeah, I- uh, I had a rough night."

"Didn't we all," Alya muttered behind them. Nino and Adrien looked back at her, curious, but she'd turned her attention to Marinette. Waves of ice fell from her shoulders as she took in Marinette's lackluster eyes and swollen lids. Her gaze turned to acid as she eyed the boys, and they shrank back, watching the front of the room instead.

No one noticed the way Marintte clutched her arms or blinked away tears.

[goddessapostless]

Love

A look into the way aromatic!Alya views her friends.

A/N: I wrote this because I’m kind of struggling with my own romantic identity. I might make a post about it later :/ BS title is BS.

Love is a foreign concept to Alya.

No, that's not true. She knows what love is. She loves her family. She loves her friends. She loves Marinette. She loves Adrien. And... She loves Nino.

But not in the same way that he loves her.

She's caught the stolen glances he tries to hide. She's seen the way his eyes shine in pure adoration. She's noticed the goofy smile he generally sports when they aren't arguing. She looks away when these things catch her attention.

She just doesn't feel the same.

And it tears her apart when he gives her those eyes.

(She wants to tell him, so bad. But she doesn't want to break his heart.)

Alya understands Marinette's crush on Adrien. From a logical view, of course.

He's kind and sweet and although he hasn't really come out of his shell yet, there's a spark in his eyes that speaks volumes of unseen mischief and sass. Not to mention loyal, forgiving, and downright handsome. (Yes, her eyes worked, as she had to point out to people who didn't understand the difference between attraction and aesthetic.)

She loved to play wingman to Marinette, and worked hard to create situations where they would be alone. To talk or make out, she didn't care. As long as Marinette was happy, Alya wouldn't have to murder talk to Adrien about the consequences of breaking her heart. But he was a cool dude. And Marinette was just as kind and forgiving and twice as understanding as him. She would never hold a grudge against him.

(What else were best friends for?)

Marinette understands the concept of platonic kisses. She kisses Alya all the time. She holds her hands and gives her hugs and sometimes even engages in platonic make-out sessions that end with both of them giggling on the floor. Marinette understands Alya's need for romantic contact but not romantic feelings. And she couldn't be happier.

It's Marinette who discovered the term 'aromantic' while researching her own identity. It's Marinette who gives her the support she needs when she feels like she can't tell her family about not falling in love. It's Marinette who loves her through and through, no matter what comes between them.

(Dark Cupids be damned!)