#escape from the Pie Folk

[yahoo201027]

Day in Fandom History: March 10…

Star, Marco, and River all travel down to an island that is home to the Pie Folk where she must outwit the citizens and finds her mother but also learn about her heritage once reunited. “Escape from the Pie Folk” premiered on this day, 4 Years Ago.

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Jokes

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Toriel stops by Sans' shop for some goods, and for some more cheery distractions! Unfortunately, all this time later, it's still too difficult to escape reminders of what's been done.

It was fun finally getting to do some stuff with Sans in this universe! The last part for this trio of scenes will be up sometime next week!

Alt text for these pages is under the read more:

Page 1 Panel 1: Interior shot of a small store, with displays of goods, loose plywood, sacks of things. Two circular woven hangings bracket the door through which Toriel enters, a heavyset woman in a polka-dotted dress with a basket over her arm. Sans watches her enter, though we see only the back of his head. 

Panel 2: Toriel enters the shop and we see more displays, mostly food. There are large potted trees as well, and the shop’s counter, draped in patterned cloth and decorated with candles. Toriel: “Well, hello again. I was wondering if you had-” Sans, a jovial, bearded man dressed in loose robes and always smiling, waves a hand and cuts her off. “Hold on, you hear that?”

Panel 3: “...Hear what?” Toriel asks, nonplussed. Up close, her face is soft but distressed.

Panel 4: Sans leans over his slightly messy counter, still grinning. “I HERB that you needed some more cinnamon cloves, and look what I have here!” He offers a handful of herbs. Up close, the cuffs on his robe sleeves are patterned with little bones.  

Panel 5: “Just what I needed! How did you guess?” Toriel exclaims, reaching out with a real smile to accept the herbs. She and Sans are framed by other mysterious shop wares- jars of things, open sacks, rolled-up mats. Things you might find in an open-air desert market. 

Page 2 Panel 1: Sans: “Was just thinking it’d been awhile since I saw you making the neighborhood rounds with some of those pies of yours… Figured you were planning to start this month’s soon!” Sans gestures up at Toriel in explanation. 

Panel 2: Toriel smirks, setting down a handful of coins.  “And perhaps hoping that I would stop by your place first with them?” Sans: “I pride myself on my forward thinking, y’know.” His grin is conspiratorial as he leans towards her and he taps his temple with one finger. 

Panel 3: Toriel, eyes sad despite her smile: “All right. How about this: Tell me a good joke, and you have my word you will have the first and freshest one.”

Panel 4: Sans: “Just a good joke?” He raises an eyebrow. 

Panel 5: Toriel clutches her chest- we don’t see her eyes. “I find myself in desperate need of levity these days.” 

Panel 6: Sans waves his hand as if to keep her from feeling like she need say more, scratching his chin in thought with the other.  “Sure, I got one…” 

Page 3 Panel 1: Sans, with the smug grin of someone about to tell a terrible pun: “Why was the empire soldier happy to get demoted to horse groomer?” Toriel, with her hand on her chin in thought: “I do not know, why?” 

Panel 2: Sans shrugs widely like the answer is obvious. “Because he finally had STABLE employment!” 

Panel 3: Toriel laughs in genuine delight, although maybe a little harder than expected. 

Panel 4: Toriel: “Thank you, I needed that.” She smiles a relieved little smile. Sans: “No problem. So hey, aside from the pie… Can I maybe get an invite to those little get-togethers I see some folks around here doing once a month?” He steeples his fingertips together. 

Panel 5: San’s dialogue continues: “I’m so curious as to what goes on then!” We only see Toriel, though, shocked and dismayed. She’s thinking of the Ritual gatherings- townspeople gathered in their robes and animal masks- reindeer, fish, but most centrally, the goat masks she and Asgore wear. 

Panel 6: Toriel: “Unless you are completely enraptured by tedious talk of planting schedules and building repairs, I believe I can sate your curiosity by saying you would find them quite boring.” She waves a hand in front of her, dismissing the thought- her expression is once again drawn and weary. 

Page 4 Panel 1: Toriel turns to leave, waving goodbye. “You should look forward to your well-earned pie more!” 

Panel 2: Sans gives her a slightly skeptical look. “Alright.” is all he says. 

Panel 3: As she leaves, Toriel looks down and sees for the first time a small statue set by the door, surrounded by candles- it’s not a merchandise display, more like an altar. The statue is a horned figure holding a bowl filled with greenery- an offering of some type. The figure is rounded like a sitting child, and simple, with closed eyes and little other detail. 

Panel 4: Toriel’s dialogue over a close up shot of the figure: “What an interesting little figure you have. It does not look like it is for sale, is it?” The little horned one has three toes and four fingers on its stubby little arms and legs, and a detail on its forehead that could be a suggestion of hair, or it could be a symbol. The pillar candles surrounding it have been burned enough to have long wax drips pooled around them. 

Panel 5: Sans: “Nah, that’s just a holdover from my home country. Supposed to help keep demons out of your space.” He seems uninterested in this bit of lore, but Toriel, still facing away, is wide-eyed and shaken.

Panel 6: Toriel whirls back to him, sweating. “I-Is that so?” 

Panel 7: Sans’s expression intensifies, eyebrows dropping dramatically. “Sure thing. You know what happens when demons get in your grain stores?” 

Page 5 Panel 1: “They’re OATsolutely RYE-ined!” Sans holds his hands wide, like he’s waiting for the rimshot effect. It’s almost like his shop counter and back wall are suddenly a stage. 

Panel 2: Toriel hides a giggle behind her hand, relieved. 

Panel 3: “Is that something you have had to deal with previously?” she asks, stepping a little closer in her interest. Sans makes a slight gesture of dismissal. “Nah, I don’t really go in for that sort of stuff, honestly.”

Panel 4: Sans: “My brother, though… He’s all in on charms and wards and that sort of thing.” He gestures up, as if to point to wherever it is in the town that his brother might be now. 

Panel 5: “Keeping customs from your home country, I suppose?” Toriel asks, drawn again into the shop and closer to Sans. “Something like that,” he responds, leaning forward on his counter. On the wall next to him, there’s another woven wall hanging like the ones over the door.  Toriel: “Do you have any customs that have a reverse effect?” 

Panel 6: Sans looks as skeptical as one can while constantly grinning. “You mean like, if you want demons in your house?” 

Page 6 Panel 1: Toriel puts a hand up in denial. “N-No, that would obviously be undesirable! I meant more… just out of curiosity about your home.” 

Panel 2: Sans stares up at her, for a beat of silence. 

Panel 3: “Maybe? Again, this stuff isn’t my thing.” He leans back in his chair with his hands behind his head, nonchalant as can be. “And anyways, we left our country for a reason. Old customs aren’t relevant in this town, y’know?” 

Panel 4: Toriel once again turns to go, with a rueful smile. “Maybe not… but I cannot imagine letting go of your entire history.”

Panel 5: Sans shrugs and looks away. “There’s worse things to let go of, honestly.” 

Panel 6: Toriel, gritting her teeth, thinks of a happier time tucking Kris into bed. 

Panel 7: Close on Toriel’s expression, now more haggard and pained than it was when she came in. She clutches her chest tight. 

[pedgito]

𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | you've got an issue and joel's willing to solve it. after all, what are neighbors for?

author's note | this was a prompt from a meet-weird thing i saw ages ago that was originally supposed to be javi, but jo (@undercoverpena) gave me the beautiful idea of making it joel and it spurred this monster.

content warning | established friendship, caught during sex, does the apocalypse having working appliances? probably not, but for the sake of this fic distend belief i beg. oral (eating out from the back), unprotected piv, subtly cocky!joel miller, he's a good ass neighbor, okay?, unbeta'd.

word count — 5.6k

Joel’s fixed this damn machine seven times, convincing himself every time that it was the last time. Shocker, it wasn’t. This time didn’t even last a month. He’s desperate now.

He would usually haul the load all the way to the communal laundry house closer to the group of joined townhomes that housed most of the younger adults—the spry and bright-faced ones who sprung up at the mention of patrol or work, any prospect of toting a gun around with any sense of leadership. They were eager, he couldn’t say the same for himself.

He was old, weathered—years of routine he had created to get the job done and get the hell home.

And truthfully, as he tapped the wrench against the metal machine, chin tucked into his palm as he scratched at his beard, he almost complied with the idea that he would just have to tough it out. Scrounging for parts was nearly impossible—dumb luck, really. In the past several years they’ve picked this town clean, bone-dry.

He’s elbow deep inside the barrel of the dryer when he hears the knock at his door, bumping his head against the rim of it as he exits and cursing under his breath as he pushes to stand, joints creaking and popping in disapproval. 

He can smell you before he sees you, the familiar scent of fresh-baked goods following you everywhere—Joel couldn’t feel guilt for being one of the folks addicted to your cooking. 

Grains had been hard to come by since the epidemic hit, everything was tainted on a global level. It took years and years of Jackson growing its own stock of wheat for things like pie or a nice, gooey cinnamon roll to even be plausible anymore. But, they were managing well so far.

“Saved ‘em for you and Ellie,” You tell him, a small plate of still hot brownies covered with parchment paper, dawning that trademark smile that Joel has come to love, tapping his fingers against the door frame as he passes the plate off to a quickly approaching Ellie.

“Girl’s got the nose of a basset hound,” Joel looks on in amused bewilderment as Ellie throws a mouth-stuffed thanks over her shoulder, “sorry ‘bout her.”

You wave her off whole-heartedly, taking in his sweaty appearance and casual attire. You were used to him in jeans and thick flannels, not a graphic tee and pair of sleep pants. He’s almost always dressed like he had to run at a moment's notice, you weren’t even sure he owned anything different until now.

“Everything good?” You question him, a small laugh escaping your throat.

“Damn washer and dryer is out again,” Joel explains, throwing a hand vaguely over his shoulder.

“Both of them this time?” You ask, “Damn.”

“I can fix ‘em, just a matter of finding the right parts,” Joel tells you, “ looks like I’m gonna have to hand wash again.”

Joel was a friend. You helped friends. It seemed like a no-brainer really, opening your mouth without thinking it through, the kindness tumbling out despite yourself.

“Oh, you’re welcome to load yours up at mine,” You offer and Joel looks immediately apprehensive, the southern charm and well-mannered tone gearing to creep up on you.

“Now, I don’t mean to make you feel like you have to—”

“Joel, I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t feel comfortable with it,” You remind him, “seriously—anytime, just try and bring your own detergent—and for the love of god, empty your pockets before you put ‘em in.”

Joel chuckles tiredly at that, rolling his eyes as he nods in agreement.

“Got it, of course, sweetheart.”

“I leave an extra key under the rug, so if I’m ever not home just come in,” Given that Joel was Tommy’s brother, you knew he wouldn’t be up to any trouble, “sound good?”

“Yep. Anytime—just make myself at home.” Joel confirms and you nod with an even wider smile, waving a pleasant goodbye as you trailed down the stairs and made your way to the house you inhabited next door.

Right, anytime.

Unfortunately, Joel took that a little too literally.

-

Joel managed to scrounge up the courage a day later, tumbling into his house on tired legs after a lengthy patrol up at the cabin lookout, scooping the basket up in his arms and heading out his front door, taking the short walk to your house.

The lights were off, but that wasn’t unusual. Joel knew you liked to stay late nights in the town’s mess hall, often working on prep for the following morning to make the load a little lighter and sleep in a while longer, so when he fishes under the doormat for the key he thinks nothing of it.

And as the door swings open, it is still fairly quiet. Though, he can hear your own dryer running upstairs. He’s got the layout down too, having shared more than a few nightcaps with you. Friend to friend and nothing more, even if you had always felt a little more strongly toward being affectionate. A hug or a kiss on the cheek from time to time, he never pushed you away. Joel never seemed like the type of man who openly showed affection, even toward a friend. But, he was good, reliable–most of the time.

He reaches the stairs with trepidation as the sounds grow louder and part of him wonders if by some uncanny coincidence your dryer might be growling and rumbling on its own final leg. 

The moment his hand reaches that doorknob and turns he realizes he’s made a mistake.

He’s caught you at a…bad time. Head thrown back with your mouth hung wide, whatever noise you’re making was mostly drowned out by the nagging sound of the dryer as it tore through the spin cycle but he hears the tailend of it, a soft moan of pleasure from the man who’s buried inside of you right now, both of you naked from the waist down but your breasts on full display with your shirt tucked under your neck.

“Benny?” Joel asks, slightly amused.

You lift your head at the sound and spot him, your feet nearly slipping out from under you as you scramble to push Benny away, who perks with an even more perplexed, “Joel?”

“Goddamn it, Joel,” You curse behind gritted teeth, furiously readjusting yourself, pulling your sweats back on and over your ass and your shirt down, “What are you doing here?”

Joel looks down at the basket still clinging to his hip before back up at you, wordlessly.

You sigh through your nose with a tight lipped frown, cheeks puffing out as you brushed your fingers through your hair and down—Benny was still scrambling to redress behind you, unable to pull his gaze away from Joel.

“Benny?” Joel mouths at you quietly, eyebrows raised curiously.

You walk toward the now open door slowly as Benny buttons his pants and you shoot Joel daggers with your stern gaze.

Cut it out.

Joel smirks slightly, cheek dimpling with the action as he side-steps Benny, who leans around you and kisses your cheek—it was a kind gesture but given the situation, in horrible taste. You force a polite smile and once Benny is a far enough distance you hit Joel firmly in the arm as he passes by you and into the laundry room.

You walk Benny to the door with a million thoughts racing through your head, offering a distracted goodbye before you’re locking the door and racing back upstairs with determined footsteps and Joel has already loaded his clothes in the washer, turning the knob to set the load size and time.

“Benny?” He echoes his earlier questions, “Really?”

“What? Are you judging me?”

“No—just, that kid’s had quite an obsession with you for some time now. Just…surprised is all.”

Your lips pull together in a disapproving but nonchalant frown, taking his words for the bullshit they are.

“When I said anytime that did not extend to the middle of the night, Joel.”

“You’re usually still at work,” He supplies—and really, he’s not wrong, “M’sorry. I mean that.”

“Well, now I’ve gotta deal with the fact you’ve seen me naked,” You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the doorframe and Joel’s eyes track you for a moment, smiling with amusement at the thought.

“What? You want a fair trade?” Joel teases, “‘Cause, darlin’. I don’t mind—but it was an accident. Besides, ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

He means it in a broader sense, but you can’t help the eye roll it induces. 

“No, no,” You chew at your bottom lip, watching Joel place the empty basket on top of the washer, “I can finish that up if you want to get some sleep. I know you had a long patrol today.”

“Oh, did you?”

He’s teasing you.

“Don’t push it, old man,” Joel shakes his head at that jab and chuckles, “Ellie clued me in when she picked up some sandwiches for her and Dina earlier.

He’s not going to pass on the offer, though. He nods, rubbing a hand over his tired face.

“Jesus—just…Benny?” Joel reiterates again, “Didn’t think the kid had it in ‘em.”

“Out,” You say with an over-pronunciation as you drag his slow and progressive steps further out of your laundry room and into the hall, “or you’re off my dessert list for a month, Miller.”

Joel smiles at you knowingly, “You wouldn’t dare,” He retorts, knowing you too well.

You wouldn’t make him suffer like that. Or Ellie, who wouldn’t hesitate to murder Joel if he robbed her of that pleasure. Not literally…but, she would carry a few choice words for him.

“Seriously, though, thank you,” He nods, leaning down to press a kiss into the crown of your head—an often familiar gesture when you parted after a long night of nonsensical talk and a couple glasses of wine or whiskey, depending on how hard the day had been, “I appreciate it, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, yeah—”

“And I do apologize for…not knocking and showin’ up at such a weird time.”

You shrug, “You’re forgiven. Just…don’t give Benny a hard time. He’s a good guy.”

“You’ve got my word, darlin’.”

Joel was determined to be on his best behavior, clearly.

-

It takes Joel a couple weeks to find the parts he needs and luckily there are no more run-ins on your midnight sex-scapades, still feeling the embarrassment from the first one. Joel doesn’t even seem to remember it after a couple days, thankfully. He was bypassing it for your own benefit, truthfully. And you knew that.

Selfishly, you're glad to have your appliances back to yourself. 

They’re good, solid, reliable—until they aren’t.

Your washer shits itself mid-load and you can hear it from downstairs. A loud screeching noise before an even louder pop that has you groaning loudly because you know. You can feel it.

You can’t even bring yourself to go check, peering through the window of your kitchen and catching a fresh pot of coffee in the house across from yours, a man coming into view and his stark white shirt contrasting the black coffee cup in his hands. He catches you out of the corner of his eye and looks at you with a quizzical amusement, smile tugging at his face.

Joel was always up before the sun rose, so with the sun just creeping into the sky you’re sure that’s his third or fourth cup of coffee. He reaches over his sink and fiddles with the latch on his window before heaving it up, watching as you struggled to do that same but eventually managed.

“You run outta coffee again?” He asks, sipping at the bitter, black coffee in his mug.

“No,” You reply quickly, slightly exasperated as you chew at your bottom lip, debating how to pop the question and feeling nervous under Joel’s intense gaze, curiously wondering if he’s still picturing you naked. He’s never explicitly mentioned it since, but you have caught him in the act.

Wandering eyes, gazes catching when your back is turned for half a second as you bend down or move in a way that exposes too much skin.

“My washer broke,” You cut to the chase and Joel chuckles at how comical it is, in hindsight.

Was this karma? It was definitely karma. 

You’ve never asked Joel for anything—despite your often bouts of kindness toward him you never expected anything in return, not even a favor.

“Doors open,” Joel nods toward his front door out of view, an invitation like you offered him.

You didn’t even hesitate, pushing the window close and bounding up the stairs.

-

You’re already loading your things into his washer before he appears around the corner, peeking his head in, coffee cup still in hand as he takes a few more steps and leans against the wall beside the washing machine and your eyes glance at him briefly before you continue moving the clothes, watching him watch you from behind the rim of his mug.

“I can start them and come back,” You tell him, “so I won’t be lingering around here all day.”

“No Benny?”

You stand up as you close the washer, deadpan stare pointed in his direction.

“You can be such a nosy neighbor, you know that?”

Joel shrugs, a smug smile covered behind his sip of coffee.

“It was just a few times. Besides he’s…too much for me.”

You turn the dial to start the load and it rumbles to life with a simple press of a button.

“You wanna talk about it?”

It wasn’t completely unnatural for you two—you knew quite a bit about Joel now: his life before, his work, his daughter…all things that come with trust and time. He’s waited patiently for you and you’ve given him peeks into your life, but nothing like this.

“It’s a long story, Joel.”

“Got time,” He smiles slightly, “I’ll go grab you a cup of coffee—sit down.”

You look around briefly, not a chair in sight. So, you raise yourself up just enough that you can slide your ass over the top of the washer, bare feet dangling off the floor and you wait, the subtle and quiet shake from the beginning of the load process keeping the awkward silence at bay.

Joel turns the corner a few minutes later with your cup, made up just to your liking and you nod with a gentle smile, taking the cup from his hand and allowing yourself a few generous sips.

“So—that night, you caught us,” You can laugh at the instances now, so you do in a soft, clipped manner, “it wasn’t the first—it had been a month by that point and he just caught me by surprise, showed up that night and things just got a little out of hand.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise in interest but he urges you to continue, leaning against the wall in front of you now, resting his mug on the shelf just above his head as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“He’s a good guy, don’t get me wrong—but I don’t do serious…I can’t, now with how things are. And I know a lot of people think the opposite, seize the moment and all that shit,” You sigh, a deep and heavy sound that expands and releases from your chest, “he was already talking about moving in, the idea of us having kids—so that night I just tried to distract him.”

“With sex? Seems a little…counter-productive, don’t you think?”

“Don’t judge me, Joel,” You warn him but it’s edged with a playfulness that Joel recognizes. You didn’t have a mean, deceptive bone in your body and Joel knew that from the first conversation he had with you.

“I needed him to shut up,” You groan at the thought of the conversation as it replays in your mind, “I’m trying to wash my clothes, he’s talking to me about babies. I do not want kids, Joel. Ever. At least none that are biologically mine. Who would want to bring a kid into this world?”

Well…Tommy. The thought comes to you after the words have already left your mouth and your heart sinks into your stomach, looking at Joel apologetically.

“Sweetheart, don’t even try to apologize. Ain’t nothing wrong with it.”

“It makes me sound horrible, I know but—”

“I’ve done my time—it’s none of my business how others choose to live. Besides, I’m pushing sixty, I don’t have to worry about all that…sorry, I’m not trying to be crude here.”

You nod knowingly with a smirk tugging at your lips, taking another sip of coffee before handing the mug off for him to place it next to his own, ready to slide off of the washer before Joel interjects with another question that catches you off guard.

“He treat you right, at least?”

You tilt your head with that same knowing smirk, pushing Joel away at his hip with your foot as he leans up from his position against the wall—Joel’s never flirted, always promptly skirted around the issue and went about it more gentlemanly. He’s not abrasive and straightforward like most of the men in Jackson, but damn did he know how to make you feel special.

Undivided attention, constant subtle compliments, giving up some much-needed sleep for a simple late night drink with you—part of you was too terrified to make your own move and make it clear just how badly you wanted just a small taste of him.

You’ve heard whispering, minimal talk from a few of the women in town. Joel didn’t often make his rounds but when he did, he left an impression. And you had every right to be jealous, because with him standing in front of you now—you knew it would be easy to say no and he would fix you right up, finally crossing that line that he’s been carefully dancing around for a few years.

“He’s a bit…timid,” You shrug, “and he doesn’t really…”

The air lingers and the side of Joel’s mouth pulls up—you don’t have to say it.

“Joel, don’t do that,” You shove at his shoulder as he approaches you, his hands pressing into the contraption you’re on, curled around the metal, “—he’s just…eager, but not in a good way.”

There’s a glint in Joel’s eye that leads you to believe he’s not thinking about Benny’s less than experienced sex life, feeling the sudden jitteriness from the coffee as your chest rises with a deep, shaky breath and Joel eyes the time over your shoulder.

Forty-five minutes and some change, plus the time to dry because Joel already knows you aren’t going to trouble yourself with walking the damp laundry through this cold, muggy weather.

“So, no then?” Joel asks.

He could have treated you better, sure. But, he wasn’t the worst.

But, the way Joel is staring at you knows makes everything and everyone dull in comparison.

You shake your head in agreement, chewing at the inside of your bottom lip as your hands fall to your lap, his hands ncreasingly closer to the tights covering your legs, suddenly feeling his thumb graze your hip. You both glance down at the action and your breathing halts, watching as his right hand slowly engulfs your thigh, fingers digging into the soft material and dimpling your skin underneath, his thumb only a few centimeters from dipping into the inside of your thigh.

They part on their own, welcoming Joel in wordlessly and his left hand echoes the other. His face is level with your own, staring down at your lips briefly before meeting your eyes and you’ve seen that look before—the adoration when he thought you weren’t watching, secretly you had become good at catching those glances, but Joel wasn’t trying to hide it now.

And it quickly dawns on you in the moment—he was jealous. Of Benny. Or really, any man that had come before him. But, he was using him as the scapegoat.

Honestly, you couldn’t even care.

“You want someone to treat you right?” He speaks softly and if you weren’t so close you wouldn’t have heard him, “I got you, sweetheart. I swear.”

He’s not looking at you anymore, eyes dragging down the bridge of your nose to your lips again. But, you are looking at him, flooded with that tricky feeling that creeps up on you when you want things you know you shouldn’t.

“Joel, I told you—I don’t do serious,” And you hold your breath for the response, wondering if that would send this moment crumbling to dust, but Joel doesn’t miss a step.

“Good for you,” Joel dotes, “neither do I.”

Then he’s on you, the press of his lips in a heated kiss sends you tumbling back, caught by the warm slide of his palm over your back to pull you in, throwing your arms over his shoulders as he pulls back briefly, just enough for you to open your mouth to speak, but his tongue finds its way inside and the words fade away.

Just friendly, my ass—you think.

If you had known he kissed like this—you would’ve jumped at the opportunity months ago; a night spent drinking too many glasses of wine and laughing over some movie far before your time, but not his. 

He was so entranced, giving you all the details, but you couldn’t help giggling over it, too touchy to be considered friendly.

You’d both cut it short quickly when Ellie popped in halfway through the movie, and beyond that, it never grew.

Until now.

“Sweet,” Joel notes with a subtle smile, his hand dwarfing the size of your neck as his fingers wrapped around the column of your throat, holding you firmly in place as he maneuvered you toward and away from the kiss as he pleased, swallowing every tiny moan that escaped your lips when his other hand squeezed at your thigh just a little too hard.

“All that sugar,” In your coffee, the taste lingering on your lips and he licks around them teasingly, pulling away briefly to look at you, your eyebrows raising in question as the gears turn in his head, “—you still with me?”

“I’m just wonderin’ if you’re okay with this,” Joel speaks candidly, his eyes trained on his thumb as it rubs against the middle of your throat, traveling up under your chin and tipping your head up slightly, watching as you swallowed, “before I take this further, jus’ need to know.”

You nod jerkily, not even a second of hesitation. 

“You would have known the moment you kissed me, Joel.”

In turn, Joel nods slowly before he speaks, stealing the air from your chest.

“Alright then, pull these down for me,” He tugs gently at the material clinging to your thighs before both of his hands find the spot behind your knees and tug until your feet hit the floor, “and push that pretty little ass out for me.”

The absurdity of this language on his tongue makes you giggle but abide in an instant, struggling slightly as the material bunches at your ankles and Joel helps you the rest of the way, tossing your pants aside before he’s kneeling despite how his body protests, too eager to give you a taste of the pleasure you deserve and he’s grabbing the cheeks of your ass and squeezing them between his hands before he’s leaning up to bite playful at the soft flesh.

He groans quietly against your skin, the press of his aquiline nose against your ass as his fingers fold around the string of your underwear and pull, dropping them down to your ankles and off and then his tongue is flat against the seam of your cunt, gasping as you fall forward and your own fingers clawing against nothing.

“Joel!” You squeak out as his fingers dig hard into your ass, forcing you up on your tiptoes as devours, licking into your cunt as it quivers around his tongue. 

Your hand pressed against the wall in front of you to keep your chest from hitting the washer, feeling your pussy tighten around the finger that enters alongside his expert tongue, a soft groan erupting out of him from behind you. That smug motherfucker was attempting a teasing huh under his breath as he busied himself with the task of eating you out from the back and you couldn’t even think straight. 

‘C’mon, baby,” He coos between his alternating licks and slurps of the heady slick that dripped from your cunt, “come all over my mouth, let me taste that sugar.”

It’s absurd, the way he’s speaking to you now. Your eyes squeeze shut as his thumb finds your clit amongst the chaos of his tongue and fingers, face heating up at how noisy your cunt sounded over the dull shake of the washer and Joel’s satisfied moans, occasionally massaging at the back of your thigh when your legs shake with the creeping feeling of your impending orgasm.

“Oh,” You squeal, reaching behind you to dig your fingers into his hair, panting out in desperation, “—fuck, don’t stop! Joel, right—right there,” and then glance you take back at him, his eyes peeking open from his position below, on his knees and dutiful to you and you alone, well…

It sends you tumbling over the edge as his thumb rubs over your clit quickly, soothing you through the aftermath as he laps up the mess you’ve made all over yourself, dragging his tongue along the inside of your thigh because if you knew anything about Joel, he didn’t waste a meal. 

And you were just about the finest he’s tasted.

You clear your throat as you rest your feet flat on the floor, feeling the faint quake in your legs as Joel rises slowly, forcing you to swallow down a giggle as he winces and he can see it on your face.

“Worth it,” He excuses himself, “don’t look at me like that.”

“No old man jokes?” You sound sad and Joel can’t believe it.

He shakes his head.

But, the smile that breaks out on your face quickly diminishes any comeback he has.

You begin to push him away with a hand gripped in his shirt, carefully avoiding the obvious bulge in his sweats as you reach for your tights, ready to redress and drop to your own knees as a favor but his fingers are wrapping around your wrist, pulling your attention back to him.

“I meant it,” Joel tells you, tilting his head to catch your gaze.

You smile wide and tilt your head to mirror him, “I think you proved your point—Benny is a pathetic man who doesn’t know how to make me come, blah blah…”

“My job ain’t done if you’re still thinkin’ about him, darlin’.”

His eyebrows raise in challenge.

Okay, you’re game.

Wordlessly you allow the hands at your hip that guide you toward the front of the joined appliances, his fingers sliding under your top until you get the hint to pull it off, your breasts bouncing free from the shirt—the few bras you had were already in the wash, big deal.

Joel chuckles and stops for a moment, admiring the sight of your breasts for the second time that month, albeit more openly this time. He reaches forward and rubs his thumb along your nipple, watching the nub harden under his touch and you bite at your bottom lip, eye fluttering closed at how sensitive they were to touch, something other men never took the time to notice.

“You like that?” Joel asks with a creeping grin.

You nod, watching as he squeezed your tits in his hands, showing your nipples ample attention as he circled them with his thumb before leaning down slightly and swiping his tongue over the hardened nubs, sucking your breast into his mouth and his eyes peer up, gauging your reaction which quickly developed from a soft giggle to a loud moan.

“Clothes,” You breath out, “off—if you still have a point to prove.”

A point that you wanted proven. Hard.

Joel pulls away and yanks his shirt over his head, allowing you an unobscured view of the mix of muscled shoulders and his softened stomach, running your hand over the patch of hair at the center of his chest and down, right along his hips until his own fingers hook around the fabric and pull his sweats and boxers down in one motion, his cock catching against the edge of his waistband before it bobs back up toward his stomach.

You find yourself smiling despite yourself, forgetting for a moment that Joel was standing there and watching you, feeling your mouth water at the sight of him hard and leaking at how just getting a small taste of you had turned him on that much, precum leaking slowly from the tip and he wraps his hand around himself, other hand tapping at your chin to drag your attention back up to his face, reminding you he was still there.

“Got somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart?”

You shake your head furiously, “No, no—no, nothing. Just, uh—”

“I’ll start slow,” He tells you and with the size of him, thick and girthy in ways you’ve only imagined or pictured in your head, it’s daunting, “are you still alright with all of this?”

Your face softens and you nod, appreciating the repeated check-ins, the need for confirmation, but it pulls at your heart as you wonder why he feels the need to ask so much. As if he was fearful you would change your mind on a dime—Joel was fine with that, but he was more worried about the change in dynamic. Thankfully, you were determined for that not to be the case.

“I’m pretty tough,” You shrug, a playful smile gracing your face.

Joel nods absently as his fingers drag along your waist before catching behind your knee and pulling it up over his hip, both of your eyes dragging down to his cock as he tugged at himself a few times, his brow furrowed as he spread your lips apart with the head, dipping his hips down slightly to catch against your hole before he pushes in slow, one solid stroke that steals the sound from your throat and transfers to his own. Joel groans out softly as he pushes into you, his hands gravitating toward your face and wrapping around the sides of your neck, tilting your head back to mouth at your skin, his tongue dragging along your collarbone before sucking and nipping gently at your skin.

“Don’t I know it,” Joel responds after a while, “find something to hold onto.”

Your soft giggle of excitement shoots down to your core and your fingers wrap around the edges of the washer and Joel pulls back swiftly before he’s snapping his hips back into you before repeating the process several times, the jolt of the machine hitting the concrete wall behind you drowned out by your loud moans, quickly swallowed up by Joel’s lips as he pulls your mouth to his, breathing into it with every sharp snap of his hips.

“Harder,” You beg, biting at his bottom lip as he groans, using his fingers intertwined into the hair at the nape of your neck now to pull your head back and he pulls his hips back quick, bottoming himself out inside of you so forcefully you feel like your legs might give out, his cock rubbing against your already too sensitive g-spot and continuously finding a way to bring you closer and closer to the edge, “fuck—yes, yes. Joel, oh my god—”

“Yeah,” Joel goads you, his eyes drawn closed as he tries to keep his own orgasm at bay, “give it to me, baby—wanna watch you make a mess on my cock, alright?”

Easy, you laugh airily and feel the instinctive squeeze of your walls around Joel’s cock as he pulls your face to his, foreheads pressed against each other as he angles his hips back and slams into you one last time before you come undone, head falling back in a similar position to how he caught you a few weeks ago, this time for him. 

Your grab for his shoulders suddenly, blunt fingernails digging into his skin and he takes a few harsh breaths through his nose before he’s pulling out, hand grasping his cock as he jerked himself a few seconds before he comes in thick, short spurts against your stomach, squeezing at the head of his cock as he drags it through the mess he’s made.

His expression is nothing short of mesmerizing, mouth hung open just enough that his tongue can drag over his bottom lip before his teeth are taking its place, eyes drawn to your skin.

Wordlessly, he pulls away on his own pair of shaky legs as he reaches for his wrinkled, worn shirt and brings it to your stomach, cleaning up the mess with a faint smile on his face.

“You know, I think it might take me a bit to fix my washer,” You tease, “so—I might be over here bothering you for a while.”

Joel peers up at you, his head still tucked down as he wiped at your stomach.

“Fine with me.”

Then he’s peering over your shoulder, watching as the washer time inched toward zero, dinging behind you. You turn around, letting your leg fall from his hip finally, ass brush against him in the process and Joel can’t help the way his eyes refuse to leave the sight of it.

Only feeling slightly guilty when you catch him this time, not giving him the pass you usually do.

“We’ve still got about an hour left if I dry them here,” You tell him, “anything else you wanna prove?”

Joel’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, eyes dragging up toward the upper level of his house before flicking back toward you, a smile plastered on your face.

“I can think of a few things.”

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

[babybatss-blog]

EUPHORIA

Link (TOTK) x f!reader, 700 words

Summary: Your dancing at the stable drives Link to a strange realisation.

Cw: written from 3rd persons pov, therefore y/n is used lots. Implied mental health issues in reader.

A picture-perfect serenity, with smoke bellowing out the nose of a cartoonish horse shaped tent, adorned with colourful reds and blues and purples of cloth flowing throughout where Y/n and Link are tonight. This scenic location appears to be the pure definition of stillness, the only sound being the rushing water in a river and the crickets chirping in the grass.

That is until you get closer, and suddenly the true reality unveils itself.

A cacophony of sounds is heard, such as guitar, singing and laughter, displaying happiness between the party of unlikely friends. At New Serene Stable the full moon is high as the many guests gather around singing folk songs passed down through generations of Hyrule, some even Link knows from his 100 years in the past. Link sit’s next to y/n at the campfire, listening to her angelic singing in a choir with the others.

“The seas are calm and blue, so welcoming anew.

The sky a piece of pie, soft and warm tonight.

The captain soars off in his boat its as if he can fly!”

This song invokes a weak memory within Link, a vision of the past where his father sang the very song to him in his tiny bed. It was made of straw, but he slept peacefully after hearing the soothing voice. Y/n on the other hand, remembers it in a very different way. Her classmates would go to the beach and scream the song at the top of their lungs to the boats passing by, giggling and doing cartwheels on the scorching sand. She sometimes wished that she could be a sailor herself, escaping towards a new adventure across the hypnotising ocean.

“The chef cooks up a storm, its tasty in this form.

Its lettuce tastes like water and without it you’re forlorn!”

One old man claps to the beat, swaying with a wide smile. Y/n immediately joins in with the others, an enthusiastic clap coming from them. Link subtly turns towards Y/n, noticing the twinkle in her eyes due to the campfire and pure joy collectively. A thought crosses his mind on how he wishes to see them in this state a million times again, but he pushes it away due to the pit quickly forming in his stomach.

Y/n leans towards Link whispering in his ear intimately. “You don’t know the words?” She asks, seeing a nervous smile appear on his face. “I know the words. I just, don’t like to sing.” He admits. She giggles at his embarrassment, half shocked and half endeared by this confession. They are so different, but also so intertwined in each other. Suddenly, she stands up along with a couple of little kids, who hold hands around the campfire. Y/n turns over her shoulder to look at Link, a grin on her face. “Join us?” He fervently shakes his head in response, seemingly repulsed by the idea. Y/n merely laughs, beginning to spin with the kids to the words resounding in the stable.

“Oh my Hylia said to me, this is where your meant to be.

A captain, chef, and a happy team all like a family!”

Y/n soon feels dizzy, hand in hand with ecstatic children that run around like monkeys. Despite this, her laughter is resounding, a brown skirt flowing in her movements. Truthfully, no matter how happy she is she wishes that Link would join her. Her eyes lock with his momentarily as she stands opposite from him, and some strange moment of connection ensues. She sees him as the nervous child too scared to make a move, and he sees her as the woman hiding away a deep seeding pain within. But they also see a beauty, one that they would never see in themselves but should as it shows their true selves.

And Link wonders… Why is this woman so perfect? Her hair flowing, her cheeks blushed and teeth shining are the definition of unadulterated joy, something he craves forever more.

Is this… Love?

[songmingisthighs]

Wanbelyn

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

<< previous | m.list | next >>

ch. lv - uncle yuyu

neurosurgeon!hongjoong × reader

buy me coffee ?

where love and peace is held, i never expected for this to happen. i planned and i planned, i expected, and i hoped, but it was never you. you held what i wanted hostage to make room for you, the thing that i needed but has no means of acceptance. deny me, live your best life.

For some reason, Yeonjun felt compelled to sort trash out that day. He had been staring at the bags that his kitchen staff would bring out for 20 minutes straight before deciding he couldn't stand the damn thing any longer.

It wasn't like the task was fun or it had benefits. Heck, he had to recycle and risk meeting a recycling nut who would attack him for not crushing his cans first. So his plan was to just get the bags there, throw it out and return ASAP.

But one thing caught his eye when he turned around to walk back to his cafe. He noticed a very familiar boy looking around the park with furrowed eyebrows and he noticed people looking at him, probably as confused as the little boy was, maybe even concerned because it didn't seem like he was there with someone and that was concerning.

"Hey, bud," Yeonjun called out after jogging towards Kijoong who turned around at the sound of a familiar voice. Though it seemed like Kijoong recognized him, he didn't make a move to approach Yeonjun. Heck, he took a couple of steps back and made it seem like he was ready to run away. "It's me, uncle Yeonjun! I know your nanny (y/n) and your uncle Woowoo!" He said, desperately hoping the boy won't run because if he ran and he chased him down, that could seem like a humongous problem.

Thankfully Kijoong nodded, "You're the uncle from the cafe," he stated though seemingly shying away from Yeonjun's kind gaze slightly. Yeonjun was glad to hear that Kijoong remembered him but there more pressing matters he needed to prioritize. "That's right! So... What are you doing here alone? Is your daddy nearby?" Kijoong immediately shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows, "No, I want (y/n) and daddy don't know where (y/n) is," he said, obviously hating the fact that his dad didn't seem like he was going to round up a search party to look for you. Though Yeonjun couldn't help but notice that Kijoong was so keen on looking for you, he knew he had to get the boy back to his dad. "So, your dad's not around here, huh?" Kijoong shook his head at Yeonjun's question, "So where is he?" "Daddy's cutting people with his friends," and boy did Kijoong said that with much confidence because some people heard and couldn't help but stop in their tracks and stare at the innocent toddler and a panicked adult who immediately look around and waved his hands frantically, "It's not what it sounds like, folks. His dad is a neurosurgeon, a very good one at that."

It wouldn't take a genius to realze that the kid had ran away from wherever he was supposed to be and whoever he was with, but knowing that it would be hard to ask Kijoong about where he was and who he was with, Yeonjun decided to just cut the middle man and call up his friend.

"What's up cutie pie?" Wooyoung snickered, not looking into the camera though Yeonjun had face-timed him. "Yeah I kind of have a problem and you're the only one who could help me," Yeonjun said, shifting his eyes between his phone and Kijoong who was looking around as if disinterested or worse, trying to find a means to escape. Yeonjun's words made Wooyoung roll his eyes, "For the last time, I am not dressing up like a cupcake and handing out flyers. You're roommates with Jongho, ask him," he scoffed which made Yeonjun groan, "No, dude, look." It took Wooyoung longer than he'd care to admit to realize that he wasn't hallucinating when Yeonjun moved the camera to Kijoong who upon seeing Wooyoung, beamed up and waved. "HI WOOWOO," he yelled into the mic but Wooyoung was unbudging, still confused, "Hey bud, what- why are you with my friend Yeonjun?" and Kijoong shrugged his tiny shoulders, "Uncle followed me," and Yeonjun immediately turned the camera back on him, "That is not true, I found him at the park!" "The park? Why is he there? He was supposed to be in daycare," Wooyoung asked but it was apparent that he was doing something else frantically, "He was looking for (y/n)." That seemed to cause both men to stop momentarily and stare at each other knowingly.

With a sigh, Wooyoung mustered up a smile, "Kijoong, buddy," Kijoong, who heard his name being called, popped his head into the frame and tilted his head to the side, "I need you to go with Uncle Yeonjun here back to the hospital, okay?" Kijoong momentarily glanced up at Yeonjun before he furrowed his eyebrows, "But... (y/n) said I can't go with anyone I don't know," he said, looking at Yeonjun suspiciously. "But you do know him! You know I know him and he's going to take you back to the hospital!" Wooyoung tried to reason but Kijoong only stared at the screen with furrowed eyebrows. "Tell you what," Yeonjun spoke up finally, "How about you keep calling Uncle Wooyoung on our way to the hospital, huh? That way Uncle Wooyoung can see that I'm really bringing you to the hospital, how about that?" he reasoned. Kijoong seemed to be satisfied with the idea by nodding and opening his arms up so Yeonjun could carry him.

During the whole way to the car parked near the cafe and the hospital, Yeonjun took notice of how Kijoong seemed to be calmer though he kept talking about you along the way. What made Yeonjun sigh heavily was when Kijoong told Wooyoung to tell you that he was being so good and that he listened to you to not follow strangers so you could come back home. He actually said home and while it could easily be about the apartment he and his dad lived in, he had a feeling that Kijoong was talking about the place you belong in. Even when Wooyoung told him that he and his dad would be waiting by the lobby he asked about you, seemingly hopeful that you would be there for him.

When Yeonjun took Kijoong out of the backseat's seatbelt, he took notice of how Kijoong simply waited by his side as he made sure his car was locked before offering Yeonjun his phone before lifting his hand. "(y/n) said hold," he stated though innocently, his eyes was showing determination. Yeonjun barely knew the boy but he could tell how much he had grown to get used to and close to you so much so that he was dependent. For some reason the knowledge made him feel bad that you had been absent from his life.

Even before reaching the lobby, Yeonjun could see the neurosurgeon pacing back and forth worriedly with Wooyoung next to him with his arms crossed and disgust on his face, talking about something so serous that it caused Hongjoong to stop in his tracks and put his hands on his hips, replying Wooyoung something that was probably ridiculous to Wooyoung as seen from the way he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Daddy!"

The very second the automatic door opened, Kijoong let go of Yeonjun's hand and ran to his dad, grabbing the man's white jacket as if to crawl up. Hongjoong crouched down and scooped his son into his arms and burying his face in his hair. Hongjoong visibly let out a shaky sigh and you could almost see the stress leaving his shoulders.

"Where have you been? Why did you run out of daycare?" Hongjoong asked, momentarily letting go of his relief to scold his son. Before Kijoong could answer, Wooyoung stepped up and answered for the little boy, "Because he missed (y/n) you dumb fuck. Remember her? The strong as hell woman you manage to mess with YET AGAIN with whatever you said?" At the mention of messing with you, Hongjoong visibly shifted, seemingly uncomfortable that he was being called out like that. "What the hell did you say to her?" Wooyoung pressed, taking a step forward when Hongjoong lifted Kijoong into his arms, "What the hell happened that she couldn't seem to talk about it?" Hongjoong sighed and shook his head, "It's honestly not my business that she doesn't want to talk to you, but honestly, her running away and abandoning her responsibilities because I made a mistake is not on me." Had it not for the fact that his son was right there (and that it could jeopardize his employment), Wooyoung would have definitely punched Hongjoong in his face. "She ran away because of whatever it is you said or did, I can definitely be sure of that," Wooyoung scoffed but Hongjoong was not backing down, "You kept saying that she's an adult, she's a grown-up, she's a woman or whatever, so should a grown-up just hide when a mistake was made? I was and still am willing to talk about what I did wrong because I did, I can admit that, but frankly, I don't know how effective that conversation is now that she selfishly closed the door to have a conversation from her side and blocked other means of conversation. I get her need to preserve herself, to shield her from potential pain, and to tend to her wounded feelings first, I do, but she can't call me names when she herself is in hiding and is refusing to talk without even notifying anyone in her life. So before you bite my head for being stupid and God knows I was, do your friend a favour and help her back," he said before turning around and carrying Kijoong back to the daycare after bowing to Yeonjun and thanking him before excusing himself.

Hongjoong could feel Wooyoung and Yeonjun staring at him but he couldn't care less. 1. Wooyoung is stubbornly statued on his convictions so if he were to fight him off on it, he'd just be wasting his breath, 2. He didn't know Yeonjun and he knew Yeonjun is your friend so he would most likely side with you and try to defend you in front of him, 3. Kijoong had been returned and he would much rather focus on his son than strangers. But with each step he took, he couldn't help but let his mind go back to that day you left, that day he sat under his home office desk and let the fact that he had hurt you badly sink in slowly, drowning him in guilt and feeling of stupidity. Then his mind connected the memories and feelings to the ones he experienced years before, the day his ex abandoned him with their 3-month-old. And once again, he blamed himself for being abandoned by someone he had leant on, someone he trust, someone who was hurt because of him.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

taglist :

@yunho-mp3 @strawberry-yeo @luvt0kki @allisonleannn @dinossaurz @khjcs @blackb3ll @aloverga @at1nys-blog @itsbeeble @potatomountain @axo-l0tl @green-thots @intancollins @galaxypox @11glitch11 @maddiebabyxoxo @alyssajavenss @mirror-juliet @gxlden-bxbyy @charreddonuts @dreamlesswonder86 @mayonnaisehoeshit @kodzukein @teenyfinds @dear-dreamie @mitchloveswriting @soobiverse @satsuri3su @phenomenalgirl9 @guess-monst3r @dimeb29 @ka-ni-ma @yayaistime @angelicyeo @kyume02 @thedistractedwriter @surveilenceysystem @ateezourstars @aursmrt @mismatchfluffysocks @puppyminnnie @nycol-ie @yungilia @writingbarnes @worcesheshestershiresauce

[galaxysupreme17]

The Storm and Revelations

Y/n = Your Name

AgathaRio x daughter!reader

It was a perfect autumn day in Westview, making the whole town seem as if it had been plucked straight out of a postcard. The air was cool and crisp, but the sun's warmth kept the slight chill at bay. Orange and red leaves drifted gently through the air as families bustled toward the town square for the annual Harvest Festival.

Agatha and Y/n agreed to meet with their neighbors, Wanda and Vision, along with their twin sons, Billy and Tommy, for an afternoon of games, food, and laughter. Y/n, eager to escape the house's stillness, had convinced her mother to come out, even though Agatha had initially grumbled about being surrounded by mortals for hours.

"You're cheery this morning," Agatha teased as they approached the event. Her lips curved upward in amusement as she caught sight of Y/n's eager pace. "What, no moody teenage brooding today?"

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled back. "I thought it'd be nice to get out for once and enjoy the day." She adjusted the scarf around her neck, trying to hide her excitement.

"Just so we're clear," Agatha added with a sly smirk, "if you end up covered in caramel or dragged into a pie-eating contest, you're on your own."

Y/n snorted. "I'll keep that in mind."

As they walked, they spotted Wanda and Vision waiting by the festival entrance, and Billy and Tommy were already running ahead toward the booths.

"There you are!" Wanda called out, waving enthusiastically. She looked radiant in her red jacket, her auburn hair catching the sunlight. "I thought you two were going to ditch us."

"You know me, darling. Never one to miss out on a spectacle," Agatha replied, her tone playful but with that edge of dry humor Wanda had grown used to.

Vision smiled warmly, ever the picture of calm and composed. "The boys have been talking about this all week. They may exhaust themselves before we even reach the games."

"They're kids," Y/n said with a chuckle. "I doubt anything could tire them out."

With that, they all headed deeper into the festival grounds. The town square was alive with activity. Booths lined the streets, offering games such as tossing rings or popping balloons to win prizes. Food stalls filled the air with the mouthwatering scents of kettle corn, roasted nuts, and apple cider. A local band played upbeat folk tunes from a stage at the center of the square.

Billy and Tommy were already darting between booths, dragging Y/n along.

"I bet you can't hit all three targets!" Billy shouted over his shoulder, eyes glinting with mischief.

"Oh, you're on!" Y/n called back, laughing as she followed.

Agatha watched them go, her usual aloof exterior softening slightly. "She's been spending too much time with those two troublemakers," she remarked to Wanda.

Wanda chuckled, her eyes following the kids as well. "They bring out the best in her."

The group spent the next hour enjoying the festival. Billy and Tommy pulled Y/n into nearly every game while Vision dutifully carried their growing pile of prizes. Agatha and Wanda strolled behind, occasionally stepping in when the twins tried to use their powers to cheat.

"Not so fast," Wanda chided when Tommy attempted to use a burst of speed to swipe an extra prize. He flashed her an innocent grin, but she wagged her finger at him. "Play fair, or we're leaving early."

It was all going perfectly. Everyone was laughing, eating, and just enjoying the carefree day. But then, without warning, the mood shifted.

Dark clouds rolled in overhead, casting long shadows across the town square. The once lively chatter of the crowd grew tense as a biting chill swept through the air.

Y/n, standing near one of the booths with Billy and Tommy, looked up at the sky, frowning. "That's weird," she muttered. "There wasn't any storm in the forecast."

Agatha's eyes narrowed, and her senses were immediately on high alert. "Wanda," she murmured, stepping closer to her friend. "This storm... it's not just weather."

Wanda looked up as well, her expression hardening. "I know. Something's off."

The wind began to pick up, stirring the leaves into a frenzied dance around the festival. The once lively chatter of the crowd grew tense as families started packing up, rushing to get away from the brewing storm.

"We need to get the kids inside," Vision said, his calm demeanor slipping as he noticed the growing agitation in the crowd.

"Our house is closest," Agatha said quickly, moving toward the square's edge. "Follow me."

They gathered the children, looking around with wide, confused eyes, and rushed toward Agatha and Y/n's home. The storm seemed to chase them, the wind howling at their backs as they hurried up the front steps.

Agatha waved her hand, the front door swinging open just as the first raindrops began to fall. They all rushed inside, slamming the door behind them just as the sky opened with thunder.

The sudden silence inside the house was jarring. The thick walls muffed the storm outside, leaving the group standing in a heavy, tense quiet. Agatha took a deep breath, her sharp senses scanning the house, ensuring they were alone.

Or at least, that's what she thought.

"Mom?" Y/n's voice cut through the silence, confusion lacing her tone.

Agatha turned toward her daughter and immediately felt the air leave her lungs. Sitting casually on the couch, as if she had been waiting for them all along, was a woman Agatha hadn't seen in years.

Rio.

Agatha's ex-wife and Y/n's other mother.

For a moment, Agatha felt time slow down. Her heart raced a mixture of shock, anger, and something more profound-something she had long since buried-rising to the surface. Rio hadn't changed much. Her long dark hair framed her face, her eyes sharp and calculating, just as they had been the day she left. But there was something different now, an edge of weariness, perhaps regret, that Agatha couldn't quite place.

Rio's eyes flicked up from where she sat, landing directly on Agatha. "Hello, Agatha."

Agatha's breath caught in her throat, and her entire body went rigid. "What are you doing here?" Her voice was sharp, laced with a barely concealed fury.

The tension in the room was palpable. Everyone remained still as they sensed the sudden shift. Wanda glanced at Vision and then at Agatha, reading the unspoken energy between the two women. Something was wrong.

"Let's give them some space," Wanda said gently, herding Billy, Tommy, and Y/n toward the kitchen. Y/n tried to protest, her eyes wide with confusion, but Wanda shook her head. "Come on, let's make some hot chocolate. Agatha will explain later."

Reluctantly, Y/n followed, though her eyes kept darting back to the woman on the couch-the woman she didn't know but who, somehow, seemed to know her mother very well.

Once they were out of earshot, Agatha crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her magic sparking faintly at her fingertips. "I asked you a question. What the hell are you doing here, Rio?"

Rio stood slowly, her movements graceful but deliberate. "I came to see my daughter."

Agatha's expression hardened. "She's not your daughter anymore. You left. You gave up that right."

Rio's eyes softened slightly, though there was a steely determination behind them. "I never wanted to leave her-or you."

Agatha's breath hitched at that admission. Her pulse quickened, and her heart raced. "What?"

"I never stopped loving you," Rio said, her voice soft but firm. "Not for a second. Leaving you both... was the hardest thing ever, and I regret it daily."

Agatha's chest tightened. It had been years since Rio walked away, years since she had allowed herself to think about the love they once shared. Hearing Rio admit she still loved her stirred emotions Agatha had tried so hard to bury. She clenched her fists, willing her magic to calm, but it flared at her fingertips, betraying her inner turmoil.

"Then why?" Agatha demanded, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. "If you loved us so much, why did you leave?"

Rio's eyes filled with regret, her posture stiffening slightly. "I didn't have a choice. There were... forces at play, things I couldn't control. I thought I was protecting you and Y/n."

Agatha's laugh was bitter and sharp. "Protecting us? By abandoning us?"

Rio winced, her expression pained. "I didn't want to. But I thought if I stayed, I would bring danger to our door. I thought leaving was the only way to keep you safe."

Agatha shook her head, her anger and pain swirling in her emotions. "You should have trusted me. We could have handled it together."

"I know," Rio said quietly. "I realize now that I made the wrong choice. I thought I was doing the right thing, but all I did was hurt the two people I love most in this world."

Agatha's heart clenched at those words, their weight pressing down on her chest. She had been so angry for so long, so focused on protecting Y/n from the pain of losing her other mother. But now, standing here, hearing Rio admit her regret, Agatha felt something inside her shift-just a little.

Rio took a tentative step closer, her eyes searching Agatha's face. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. I know I don't deserve that. But I'm here now, and I want to make things right. For Y/n. And for us."

Agatha swallowed hard, her mind racing. She didn't know if she could ever truly forgive Rio for leaving, but she also knew that Y/n deserved the truth, even if it was painful. And maybe, just maybe, there was a part of her that still cared for Rio despite everything.

"I don't trust you," Agatha finally said, her voice steady but cold. "But for Y/n's sake, I'll give you a chance to explain. Just know this-if you hurt her again, I won't hesitate to make sure you regret it."

Rio nodded, her expression softening. "I understand."

Just then, the kitchen door creaked open, and Y/n poked her head out. Her eyes flicked nervously between her mother and the strange woman in their living room, and she cautiously made her way into the room and toward her mother.

"Mom?" Y/n asked hesitantly, her voice small. "Who is she?"

Agatha's heart clenched as she looked at her daughter standing there. She was so young and vulnerable, unaware of the complicated history she was now caught in.

Taking a deep breath, Agatha met her daughter's gaze. "Y/n... this is Rio. She's-" Her voice wavered momentarily, and then she steadied herself. "She's your other mother."

The room fell into an almost suffocating silence as Y/n's eyes widened in shock, her gaze shifting between Agatha and Rio. "My other mother?" she said barely above a whisper. "But... I don't remember her."

"I know," Agatha said softly, gently stepping forward to place a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "She left when you were very young."

Y/n's gaze snapped back to Rio, her expression a mixture of confusion, hurt, and something else-something Agatha recognized all too well. "Why?" Y/n asked, her voice trembling. "Why did you leave?"

Rio took a step forward, her face etched with guilt. "I... it isn't straightforward. I didn't want to leave, but I had to. I thought I was protecting you."

"Protecting me?" Y/n echoed, her eyes narrowing. "From what?"

"That's enough for now," Agatha interjected, sensing that Y/n wasn't ready to hear the truth yet. "We'll talk more later. But for now, know that I've always been here for you. And I always will be."

Y/n looked between them again, still reeling from the revelation. She bit her lip, then nodded slowly. "Okay."

Agatha smiled gently, pulling her daughter into a protective hug. Over Y/n's shoulder, she locked eyes with Rio, her expression hardening again. Whatever Rio's reasons for leaving, whatever danger she thought was coming, Agatha wouldn't let her hurt Y/n again.

No matter what.

[starwarsmum]

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

@maribat-calendar-events

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

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

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

_ _ _ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_ _ _

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_ _ _

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_ _ _

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

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

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

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

“You need not apologise, Marinette, we have not known each other long and I have already been fortunate enough to see you several times this week,” he assured her. Warmth spread through her, partially from the heavy chest, but mostly from how straightforward he was with her. “I will not lie to you, I would have liked to see you again before I go home, but it is hardly like I will not see you again.”

“What time are you flying out?” She asked wistfully, stopping on the shore next to the houseboat. She sighed when he told her that he was leaving for the airport at midday, and said that she would have to try video calling him when time allowed. “But at least we can message each other any time.”

“Indeed. Now, enjoy your time with your friends and I shall speak to you again soon.” Sighing again, she called out to the band, hugging Mylene and Rose when they came out to her. Luka smiled at her, but stayed on the stage strumming.

When they finished recording and editing, Marinette saw that it was 11:30. Shouting quick goodbyes to everyone, she raced over to the hotel. She was breathless when she arrived at 11:45, but it meant that she should have at least ten minutes to say goodbye to Damian.

Rushing over to the front desk, she asked if they could send a message up to the American visitor Damian (why hadn't she asked for his surname?) and sent a text as well, just to be safe. It took a few minutes but then he appeared in the lobby and shot her a crooked smile. 

“I am very glad that you completed your tasks early, Marinette,” he said, brushing some flyaway hairs out of her eyes. Her heart hammered, refusing to slow down even though she had been standing still for several minutes. “May I kiss you?”

“God yes,” she whimpered, grabbing onto his lapels and pulling him down. He kissed back earnestly, cupping her cheek with one hand as she wound her arms around his neck. She tentatively pushed her hands into his hair and was rewarded when he made a soft noise of contentment. 

They stood like that for several minutes before slowing and separating. The same crooked smile he had given her when he had seen her a few minutes ago lit up his face and she smiled goofily up at him. They murmured gently to each other, promising to stay in touch and see each other as often as possible.

“I know it's kind of extremely early to ask this, but will you be my boyfriend?” Marinette asked when he begrudgingly reminded her that he had only a few minutes until his father and brother would be joining him to return home. She was relieved when his crooked smile transformed into a full blown grin.

“I would love to be your boyfriend, Marinette. I would much prefer to remain here with you in Paris, but I must return home and to my responsibilities,” he said regretfully. She sighed and buried her face in his chest, holding him tightly.

“Damian, are you ready to go?” Bruce had arrived and Damian reluctantly released her. She blushed at the man, stammering a greeting and farewell and he smiled at her. “It's been a pleasure to meet you Marinette. If you ever come to Gotham, feel free to come to Wayne Enterprises and we can give you a tour.”

“...Wayne Enterprises as in, Wayne Fashion?” She said eventually, turning to stare at Damian. Bruce watched as his son flushed pink and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He had to fight back his own astonishment that the girl apparently hadn't known who she was having dinner with a few nights ago.

“Why would I have known?” She squeaked when he voiced the thought. “Jagged just said his friend from school was coming to visit and he wanted to introduce me! I- this is going to take me a minute,” she confessed, darting and apologetic glance at Damian.

To Bruce's surprise, Damian looked worried, his face filled with tight lines. He had never seen his son hesitate before, or worry that his name would change the opinion someone had of him, but that was clearly what was happening. Marinette's crisis was cut short when Tim joined them and the car for the airport pulled up.

Damian pulled Marinette away from his family while they put the luggage in the car, wanting to ensure that things were alright between them. She had already calmed down considerably which was a positive sign.

“Marinette, I am sorry I did not tell you sooner. I assumed you were already aware of our family name. I hope that this does not change-” he was cut off abruptly when Marinette grabbed him in a tight embrace.

“It doesn't change anything,” she swore confidently, pulling back from the hug and gripping his hand. “If you're fine with dating a daughter of two bakers, I think I can find it in me to date the son of a millionaire.”

“Tt, billionaire,” he corrected automatically, flushing when she gave a strangled giggle. Tim gave a warning shout that they needed to leave and he glared in the direction of the car. “May I call you when I am safely home?”

“Damian, as my boyfriend you can call me whenever you want,” she said, before letting him walk over to the car. He felt a little hollow and disappointed that this was goodbye for now, but his duties as Robin had to come first. 

_ _ _

Marinette spent the next few days fuelled by the joy of knowing Damian felt the same way she did. They had messaged back and forth several times, even occasionally calling. They talked about anything and everything, Marinette finding him to be practical but compassionate about her problems.

On the Wednesday after they had submitted the competition video, Marinette was hanging out with Kitty Section on the houseboat when Ivan called for everyone's attention. In numb outrage, they watched XY’s new music video - a direct copy of their submission.

Taking their complaint to the filming studio, Marinette and Luka snuck inside while the rest of Kitty Section caused a distraction. Once inside, Bob Roth proceeded to tear into the pair, threatening their futures and, specifically, Marinette's future as a designer. She didn't notice Luka getting angry until he was enveloped in harsh purple light, transforming into Silencer.

He stole XY's voice and turned to Marinette, promising to help her stay safe and protect her artistic integrity. Then he told her, “You’re an extraordinary girl, Marinette. As clear as a musical note, and as sincere as a melody.” She blushed for a few moments before shaking it off and going to transform. 

The battle against Silencer was difficult, and only made harder by Bob Roth. She did eventually defeat him, but all it meant was that she was back in the same position she had been before the akumatisation. Unless…

Her usual quick thinking and the assistance of Luka resulted in Bob being forced to admit that he had tried to steal their ideas. Transforming back, Marinette rushed back to Luka and cheered happily that they had won. She had decided that she would ignore what Luka had said under the influence of the akuma, given that she didn't want anything more than friendship with him.

But then as they were separating, he said the same thing again, and it left her uncomfortable. She didn't manage to say anything back, but he didn't seem to be expecting an answer. She immediately messaged Damian, wanting to let him know what Luka had said.

She was comforted by his no nonsense view on the matter, seeming more concerned that she had been caught up in an akuma attack. She assured him that she was fine, and that Ladybug had saved the day as usual. He asked a few questions about how she had done it, and Marinette had to carefully dodge any potential pitfalls that would show she knew too much.

Damian ended the call feeling even more determined to help end the threat of Hawkmoth. He had wanted to help as soon as he found out that there was an emotional terrorist causing havoc in Paris, but now that he knew Marinette…it was imperative that the Justice League meet with the heroes and offer whatever help they could.

Striding into his father's office, he waited patiently to be seen. He tried to structure his concerns in a way that wouldn't immediately make his father suspicious. He did not want his family to pry into his relationship with Marinette, especially as they did not think he was capable of one.

“What can I do for you, Damian?” Bruce eventually said, looking up from his work. Damian steeled himself and launched into his speech about helping the Parisian heroes. Bruce listened without interrupting, nodding along until Damian ran out of things to say. Finally, Bruce steepled his fingers and gazed thoughtfully at the young vigilante. “I see, and who would you suggest I send to Paris?”

“Drake has an analytical mind that would likely be the biggest benefit as both Ladybug and Chat Noir seem to be competent enough in battle. Training would not go amiss, however, so someone should go with him.” He stopped himself from volunteering immediately even though he was sure his father would know that was the only reason he would be talking about it.

“Alright, so given what we know about Hawkmoth's abilities anyone too volatile is out of the question. So Jason will have to sit out a long-term placement in Paris. Dick has his family to think about, which would only make him moody to be separated from them. Steph and Tim have a history that makes me hesitant to send her with him to a city besieged by an emotional terrorist.”

“Cain has responsibilities in Hong Kong, she would be too distracted to train them sufficiently,” Damian added, warming to the task of shutting down the possibilities of someone other than him going. “You are essential to the welfare of Gotham, so that is out of the question, as is anyone with powers such as any of the Kents.”

“But Duke’s powers are actually potentially helpful,” Bruce countered, looking thoughtful. Damian tried not to freeze or scowl. He thought desperately for a rebuttal, a reason that Duke would have to sit it out and came up blank. 

“Thomas is…an adequate choice,” Damian admitted at last, trying to avoid glaring but only half succeeding. “It would be beneficial to all involved if we verified that his powers would be useful before he uproots his life in Gotham, however. Perhaps he and Drake could visit as their alternative selves via zeta tube and make contact with the duo?”

“That sounds reasonable,” Bruce replied, nodding to himself. Damian held himself stiff and waited to be dismissed. “Of course, there is this akuma class that Jagged and Marinette mentioned, it could be useful to have someone in the classroom itself to investigate…do you think Duke could pass as a fifteen-year-old?”

“Tt, that hardly seems necessary,” Damian said, working to calm his now racing heart. If he played this correctly, he would be able to go to Paris regardless of whether Duke went as well. “I am in that curricular age bracket and I am more than competent enough to investigate.”

“And what of the emotionally stable requirement?” If this were a less important conversation, Damian would have been offended. As it was, he gave the question as much clinical consideration as was possible. 

“I am capable of managing my emotions, I have grown plenty since Mother allowed me to stay in Gotham,” he said eventually, pleased that his voice was level. “It would also be a good test of my own capacity. In addition, I have already spent a week in Paris and went without Akumatisation the entire time, despite spending ample time with Drake.”

“But not around children your own age,” Bruce countered again, forcing Damian to swallow a growl. “You're not best known for dealing well with people who approach you because of your name, and that could cause an akumatisation of someone else.”

“Then send me under an assumed name, ostensibly so that I am protected whilst away from you,” Damian said immediately, pleased with his own quick thinking. At Bruce's raised eyebrows he soldiered on. “The only person with any knowledge of my identity is Marinette who would likely not give that information away if we requested it in advance.”

Bruce stayed silent for several minutes, clearly mulling all of this over. When he finally nodded, Damian allowed a small smirk to flit across his features, before schooling his expression back into solemnity.

“Very well, a team of three. I like the idea of sending you through the Zeta tubes first, and we may well do that for several nights in a row to give the illusion that you're all still in Gotham as civilians. And then a couple of nights of no activity at that end when you arrive as Damian but Robin back in Gotham would cement it quite nicely. Okay, yes let's tell the team.”

_ _ _

Adrien walked into collége with a spring in his step. So far, he hadn't had time to wow Marinette with his charm and wit - he had researched so many non-cat puns - but he was confident that he would be able to get Alya and Nino on his side. He had vague recollections of Alya forcing him to dance with Marinette at Chloé's disastrous party, so he was pretty confident that she wanted them to double date.

But when he arrived in their classroom, Alya and Nino were talking in hushed tones. Marinette still hadn't appeared, but that wasn't unusual, so Adrien made his way to his desk and turned to talk to the pair.

“I'm telling you, Marinette's been smiling at her phone and she's practically glued to it these days! And Juleka said that he confessed to her during the whole Silencer debacle,” Alya insisted, showing a picture of Marinette gazing lovingly at her phone.

“Who confessed to Marinette?” Adrien asked, suddenly apprehensive. He felt even more worried when Alya and Nino exchanged a look.

“Dude, you remember Juleka’s brother, Luka? Apparently he told Marinette he was into her when he was akumatised into Silencer,” Nino said, shrugging uncomfortably. “And Mari’s been acting kind of strange lately, haven't you noticed? She looks at her phone all the time, and someone's messaging her loads.”

“Yeah, and my girl definitely thought he was cute, I remember when she met him. She was blushy and stammered a bunch,” Alya added, although she shut up as Marinette rushed in. “Hey Marinette!”

“Hey Alya! I can't believe how late I was running today,” Marinette groaned, laying her head down on the desk. “And before you say it, yes I know it's my own fault for staying up late.”

“Hey dudette,” Nino said, but Madame Bustier appeared before Adrien could give his own greeting. He turned to face the front uneasily, wondering if he had already missed his chance to woo Ladybug's civilian identity.

The day dragged on, and when he returned after lunch he spotted Marinette smiling at her phone and decided he had to know. Strolling casually towards her, he leaned down to talk to her.

“Hey Mari,” he said cheerily, trying to get a sneaky glance at her phone but she squeaked and pulled it out of sight too quickly. “You looked happy, were you messaging Luka?”

“Luka? Why would I be messaging Luka?” Marinette looked guilty and Adrien's stomach clenched. He forced a smile onto his face, trying to look like he wasn't panicking.

“Oh, Alya just mentioned that you were maybe dating him…”

“No, I- I'm not dating Luka,” she said slightly hesitantly. She bit her lip and Adrien wondered if she wished she was.

“Okay, well that's…that's great,” he said, smiling a little more naturally. “So I was wondering if maybe-”

He was interrupted by the bell and he frowned at the sudden bustle behind him. Marinette’s phone buzzed again but she didn't open whatever message it was in front of him. Instead, she suggested that they head into class, only pulling her phone out stealthily once they were seated.

Adrien frowned and all but ignored the lesson. If he couldn't find time to bring it up as Adrien, he would just have to work harder to convince her as Ladybug.

_ _ _

Robin stood on the threshold of the Watchtower Zeta tube with anticipation pooling in his stomach. He was determined to impress the Parisian heroes and prove Jason's ominous prediction, that he would be akumatised within the hour and decimate the Parisian team, wrong

“Okay, so remember, this is a pretty simple recon mission and to extend the olive branch and our offer of aid to Ladybug and Chat Noir. If they decline, we're out and no arguing. The last thing they need is for one of us to get akumatised because we can't take no for an answer,” Red Robin reminded them for the third time.

“We get it, Red,” Signal said, shaking his head in exasperation. Robin worked on not adding his own vocal frustration and was rewarded by Red Robin nodding and stepping through to Paris. 

Standing in an alley, they got their bearings and shot off to find the local heroes. It was late evening and Robin managed to glimpse Marinette's balcony as they grappled past. The lights were on and he could see the flicker of movement as she did something. He thought he saw a shift of her curtain before they completely passed but couldn't justify stopping.

They settled on the Eiffel Tower and ended up only waiting for around ten minutes before a red and black blur flipped and landed in front of them. She eyed them suspiciously for a moment but then confusion crossed her face.

“Um, hello,” she said hesitantly, giving Robin a look that made him sure she recognised him. Sometimes it was worth being dressed in…how had Marinette said it?...oh, yes, traffic stoppingly bright colours. “To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting some of Gotham's heroes?”

“We're here to offer our assistance,” Red Robin said, smiling at the girl. “I'm sorry it's taken so long for us to come, we weren't really aware that there was anything amiss to begin with. And then Batman wanted to check things out before we reached out.”

“Wow, seriously? I would love some help! I've been trying to track down Hawkmoth but it's been- God, it's freaking sucked. It's messing with my civilian life and I kind of have a lot on my plate, so any help you can give would be incredible.”

“Of course,” Red Robin said, smiling at the French heroine. “I'm Red Robin, this is Signal and this is-”

“Robin, yes,” she interrupted nodding. “I recognised the, ah, interestingly bright colours. They are not exactly subtle shades.”

“Tt, the colours are a tradition,” Robin said, grumbling slightly. It felt strange to discuss the colours of his suit with someone who also wore a shockingly bright suit. But he kept to his word and avoided sniping back an insult.

“Yeah, my fr- boyfriend is from Gotham and explained it to me,” she said, blushing lightly and smiling softly. Something inside Damian felt like it had received an electric shock. It could be a coincidence that this dark-haired, blue-eyed hero had a boyfriend in Gotham but… “I still think that you could do something slightly different with it though. There are other shades of yellow, red, and green that don't stop traffic.”

The rest of the encounter felt like white noise to Damian. He found himself watching Ladybug intently, noting small tics that he had noticed in Marinette during their brief time together so far. She was expressive with her hands. She twirled her pigtail around a finger when thinking. 

How had he managed to travel across the world, meet someone and they turned out to be a hero? In some ways it was baffling, but in others made complete sense. Of course his girlfriend was a selfless, heroic girl who spent what very little spare time she had battling the forces of evil. He could only be interested in the very best.

Fortunately, nobody seemed to notice his distraction and Ladybug thanked them before zipping away - in the direction of Marinette's home. Hm, it appears he would need to speak with her about obscuring her destination.

_ _ _

The next week passed fairly quickly, but Damian was also exhausted by the end of it. Between traveling back and forth to Paris via Zeta tube, organising all paperwork to transfer to Francois DuPont, and plotting how to tell Marinette her secret was out, he scarcely had time to sleep.

It was a relief to land in Paris on a Saturday evening and head straight to the apartment that Bruce had procured for the three of them. He immediately set down his suitcase and pulled out his phone to let Marinette know that he had arrived. He received a dozen or so heart emojis in return, making him smile.

He sent a follow up text asking if she would join him the following day to collect his French phone, ready for school first thing on Monday, which she also agreed to enthusiastically. He tucked the phone away as he prepared to meet with Ladybug again, wishing he could tell her who he was and that he knew who she was.

The trip to the Eiffel Tower was uneventful and they set up the laptop and paper notes about their investigation so that they could do a further deep dive. Since they had discovered that Signal could only see an energy signature when Ladybug used her lucky charm, they couldn't use him to quickly locate Hawkmoth when he was powered up but not actively evilising a butterfly.

“...a chance, Bugaboo!” The sound of Chat Noir’s voice carried over to them from nearby and three heads turned towards it. “I think we would make a purr-fect couple, M'lady, but it won't happen if you keep pretending you're not even curious.”

“Chat, I told you that there was another boy,” Robin's fist unclenched from his katana’s hilt but he glared in the direction of the voices as Chat made a dismissive noise. “No, Chat, I'm serious, there's this boy-”

“Yes yes, that you like, but you shouldn't be closing off your options like that! I'm just saying that you should consider me as well,” Chat said, fairly condescendingly as far as Robin was concerned. Unsheathing his katana, he jumped across to where they were standing.

“If Ladybug said no, she would have meant it,” he said in clipped tones. He noted Ladybug's - Marinette's - shoulders relaxed when he arrived and had to wrestle back his anger. The last thing they needed was for Robin to get akumatised. “We have been waiting for you to arrive to debrief and discuss next steps.”

“Sorry, Robin, we're coming,” Ladybug said immediately, following him back to the other side of the Tower. She flitted to stand between Red Robin and Signal who both gave Chat Noir disapproving looks. “So, the list of suspects is ready?”

“Yes, we have been cross-referencing the different affluent men in Paris who have the time and resources to spend time as Hawkmoth,” Robin said, staying beside Chat even though he would have rather been beside Ladybug.

It was nearly an hour later that they all agreed they had done as much as they could. Dutifully, Red Robin reminded the duo that the team would be traveling back to Gotham the next day for a few days but then would be back in Paris to really get stuck in.

Ladybug thanked them all before shooting off to get home. Damian noted that she went off in a different direction this time, and wondered if she changed which way she went each time to help confuse anyone watching.

_ _ _

Marinette waited on a bench in the park outside her home, picking at her fingers. She hadn't seen Damian in person since he had left Paris to go home and she was worried he would change his mind once he saw her again. She had agonized over her outfit before deciding to wear the new shirt she had designed and created specifically so she could show it to him.

“Marinette, apologies for my lateness.” Damian appeared beside her silently, and she squealed before her phone went flying. With reflexes she couldn't have guessed he possessed, Damian caught her phone and placed it gently back into her hands. It had fallen to her other side so he was fully in her personal space, looking down into her eyes as she stammered a thank you.

There was a moment where neither of them moved, simply breathing the same air. And then her hands found their way to his collar and his lips crashed into hers. He kissed her hungrily, wrapping his arm around her waist to secure her against him. 

They kissed for several long moments, and Marinette got lost in running her fingers into his hair. It was reluctantly that she pulled away from him, grinning up at him. His eyes were gleaming and she giggled when he tried to straighten his hair. 

“We should go and get your phone,” she said at last, letting her hand trace his jaw. He shivered and Marinette felt a thrill at the simple fact that she affected her boyfriend. He hesitated for a moment before nodding and helping her stand.

Collecting his phone was an easy task and they chatted about him starting school with her the next day. He had already told her that he would be attending under a different surname, so she made sure she knew his cover name. 

As the day slipped into early evening, Marinette dragged him back to the Pont des Arts bridge to watch the sunset. She turned to look at him and paused. His eyes were hooded and his profile when he turned to look at her made her breath catch. She felt like she was unraveling a string, starting with the way he had approached her before dinner to talk about her Robin themed dress, to the verbal tic that he shared with said vigilante.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, his eyes full of concern. She stood on her tiptoes, pushing her hands back into his hair. He gave a crooked smile and leaned down to kiss her again, but she held him back slightly as she restyled his hair.

“Um, so I think I worked out something I wasn't supposed to,” she said in a hushed whisper, shooting him an apologetic wince. He froze but didn't say anything. His hand came up and pressed gently into the base of her spine. His fingers circled firmly, making her shudder and step even closer.

“I suppose that makes us even,” he replied, sounding amused more than angry. Then it was Marinette's turn to freeze, panic racing through her. “Marinette, breathe. I had intended to tell you shortly, but it is imperative that you do not allow yourself to panic.”

She breathed in shallowly but the panic simmered under the surface. Cursing lowly, Damian pulled her into a rough kiss and she felt like her nerve endings were completely fried. Her panic was swiftly replaced with a fluttering and she leaned into the kiss whole-heartedly.

When they broke apart this time, they were both breathing heavily. The panic Marinette had been feeling was muted, and she leaned her head against his shoulder as she tried to rein in her runaway thoughts.

“How long have you known?” She asked, tracing her fingers around one of his jacket buttons. She frowned lightly as he explained but didn't free-fall into panic this time. “This is going to take some time to get my head around.”

“Do you want me to…leave?” Damian asked, clearly reluctant, and she shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to be left alone with her thoughts. His whole body relaxed and the arm wrapped around her pressed her even closer. 

They didn't talk much more, choosing instead to just hold each other. 

_ _ _

The following day at school, Marinette pushed down the nervous excitement that made her stomach bubble. She knew that Damian would be on time, so she had made sure to wake up early and was already standing on the front steps. She hadn't even seen Max yet, and he was usually first through the doors.

She perked up when a car that she didn't recognise rolled up and was rewarded with the early morning sight of Damian in relaxed clothes. One of the conversations they had had the day prior was to say that he would be trying to distance his image from the public one of Damian Wayne so that he was less likely to be recognised.

“Good morning, Marinette,” he said as he approached her, giving her la bise on both cheeks. They had agreed to downplay their relationship for now to avoid awkward questions about how they had met, and she had never been more glad to have the excuse to kiss his cheeks.

“Morning, Damian,” she said back, beaming as he waited for Duke to park and rejoin him so that they could head to see Principal Damocles. When Duke arrived he gave Marinette a confused look but only greeted her cheerfully. “Good morning, Duke, right?”

“Yes, that's right,” he said and his eyes passed over her, focusing momentarily on the small pink bag by her hip. “And you must be Marinette, Tim mentioned you to us. I, uh, hope this isn't rude but are you aware that Damian is-”

“That this is Damian Thomas?” She interrupted, beaming up at him when he relaxed. “Yes, Damian made me aware and I agree that it's a smart move. I'm the class president of the class Damian will be in, so there should be no issue with him just sticking with me for the foreseeable future. Now, are you ready to meet Principal Damocles?”

They followed her into the building, Marinette chattering and pointing out the different classrooms on the next floor as they passed. Several students that had been milling around spotted the trio and an excited buzz kicked up, though Marinette dutifully ignored it.

“Mr Damocles, the new student and his guardian are here,” she said cheerfully when they were given permission to enter the office. 

“Wonderful, thank you, Marinette,” he said, dismissing her with a nod of his head. She backed out of the office, her hand giving Damian's a discreet squeeze on her way past.

When she entered the classroom, she was immediately bombarded with questions about Damian. Lila sat at the back, quiet for a change and Marinette avoided looking in her direction. When Adrien arrived, he seemed excited to hear that there would be a new student, and piped up that it was probably time to change seats again.

Marinette paused and thought it over, nodding along as she decided that it was the easiest way to let her sit next to Damian. There was a flurry of motion as everyone clamored to explain where they wanted to sit.

“You know, I know Lila said her tinnitus cleared up because of the miraculous cure, but I think it's more likely that she became accustomed to the noise,” she said aloud, feigning concern. Lila narrowed her eyes at her but she ignored it. “It would make sense for us to go with the original plan you all came up with, and then I can help the new kid, as class president.”

Everybody agreed enthusiastically, except for Adrien who looked disappointed. But then Madame Bustier had arrived and they were forced to settle into their new seats.

Meanwhile, Damian was being forced to listen to Principal Damocles drone on about how much the school valued teamwork and a cohesive student body. He danced around the subject of Hawkmoth which made Damian decide that he was weak-willed.

“Look, Damian, I know this is going to be difficult,” Duke said as they made their way to the classroom. “If it's easier for you to be your usual self, don't force yourself to be super friendly. It's normal for a kid that changed countries to be slightly closed off anyway.”

“Tt, I know what I am doing, Tho- Duke,” Damian said, grimacing slightly at using the man's given name. But it would be too suspicious if he was overheard given that they were supposed to have the same surname. 

“Another thing, I don't know what Marinette's got in her bag, but it's giving off insane amounts of energy. There might be more to her than meets the eye,” Duke said, checking his watch. He missed Damian's pause and the boy was back to behaving normally by the time he looked back. “Listen, I'll walk you in but then I've gotta jet.”

Standing in front of the class, Damian used his vantage point to remind himself of all who were in his new class. His eyes snagged on Marinette, who was sitting alone in the back of the classroom with the only available seat next to her.

“Welcome to our classroom, Damian!” Madame Bustier said in an almost unnaturally sweet voice. Forcing himself not to wince, he nodded and projected a cool but nervous aura. “Perhaps you could introduce yourself to the class, tell us a little about Damian Thomas?”

“... good morning, I am Damian. I will say now that I do not like nicknames, and as such will not respond to anything other than ‘Damian’. I am from New Jersey and elected to study abroad when my brother, Duke, was assigned here. I have already been acquainted with Marinette as she is the class representative and would ask that the rest of you give me space to adjust to the new class.”

The class all nodded, although the one sitting next to the blond model Agreste - Lila Rossi, Damian thought her name was - looked disappointed. Duke stayed until Damian was told to take his seat but then slipped away.

In the back of the classroom, Damian and Marinette sat quietly together exchanging notes and speaking softly. To anyone that asked, Damian said that Marinette was helping him adjust to the class and generally making the transition into the school as smooth as possible.

In reality, Damian was letting Marinette know that Duke had sensed a powerful being in her bag, presumably Tikki. If this was the case, then they were in a better position than they had originally believed, because Duke could investigate their various suspects and find the Kwami when they weren't suited up.

_ _ _

Adrien was irritated with the new kid. He knew that Marinette had responsibilities as class representative, but it grated on him that this Damian kid was monopolising his lady's time. And even though the boy was practically shunning the rest of the class, he didn't seem to be staying out of her space.

He grit his teeth when Damian leaned over Marinette during morning break and she flushed. He could see that Marinette was clearly uncomfortable, but he wouldn't get out of her space! Adrien decided that it was time for her knight in shining leather to make an appearance.

“Mari! I feel like we haven't spent enough time together in ages,” Adrien said, dropping into the seat on the other side of her. “Hi, I'm Adrien Agreste, one of Marinette's closest friends.”

“...a pleasure to meet you,” Damian responded stiffly, hand resting on the back of Marinette's chair as he leaned back. Marinette's blush receded almost immediately and Adrien patted himself on the back for saving her so quickly. “Marinette has been telling me about the various extra curriculars available at this school. She mentioned that you fence?”

“Aw, talking about me? I'm flattered,” Adrien replied, leaning towards Marinette. She didn't blush, making him feel smug that she wasn't uncomfortable around him. “Marinette did say that she was a fan before, I shouldn't be surprised that she would tell you all about me.”

“I was actually just mentioning it because Damian expressed an interest in swords,” Marinette interjected, flashing a look Adrien couldn't decipher at Damian. 

Just then Lila, Alya and Nino came over to the table as well. Lila automatically latched onto Adrien's arm, gripping him tightly. He had enough control not to grimace and instead plastered one of his model smiles across his face.

“It's so nice that we can all spend time together, isn't it Adrien?” Lila cooed before turning her eyes onto Damian. “I don't think I had the chance to introduce myself yet, I'm Lila Rossi! It's so lucky that I wasn't away with my mother and doing charity work, I would have hated to miss meeting you with everyone else.”

Adrien shot Marinette a look when hers soured, trying to remind her to take the high road, but she didn't look his way. Instead Damian stood abruptly, making Marinette look up at him, startled. 

“Apologies, I am still adjusting to the new school and this is too overwhelming,” he said, although his tone was flat rather than agitated. Marinette shot up as well, grabbing her bag and leading Damian away.

Adrien slumped a little, pouting at the fact that even though Damian had said he was overwhelmed Marinette had gone with the other boy.

_ _ _

“The problem is,” Marinette said, worrying her lip between her teeth, “that if I tell Duke what he saw so that he can find Hawkmoth, I reveal my identity. And you are literally one of two people who knows, which already feels pretty risky.”

“Then it is a case of whether the benefits outweigh the risks,” Damian murmured. It was lunchtime and they had secluded themselves in the library. With no prying eyes, Damian had pulled her close and buried his face in her neck.

In the short time he and Marinette had been spending time together, it had surprised him how much he enjoyed touching her casually. It had started as wanting to hold her hand and spiraled to wrapping his arms around her as much as he could.

“I know, I know,” she muttered back, frowning at her phone. “It's just…I've spent so long keeping my identity to myself, even from my partner. Having my boyfriend know is wildly different to telling other vigilantes.”

“But Th- Duke would be instrumental in taking action against Hawkmoth,” Damian pointed out. “And should we wish to continue this relationship, they will need to know at some point.”

“You’re right,” Marinette sighed, twisting her hands before running her hands along his arms. He pressed even closer to her, humming lightly as he pressed a kiss against her neck. “But if you don't want to blow your cover, we should probably get on with doing work here instead of cuddling.”

“I do not see why it should matter if people know I am enthralled by you,” Damian grumbled halfheartedly, though he did pull away. They spent the remainder of their lunch talking about their plans and how they would approach his brothers.

Their last lesson of the day went quickly and Marinette waited outside with Damian for Duke to collect them. She waved goodbye to everyone that walked past them but didn't move towards anyone else. 

When Duke saw him standing close to Marinette, he seemed to do a double take but he didn't say anything when Marinette climbed into the backseat besides ‘hello’.

“Duke, Marinette is going to come to our apartment and we shall explain things once we have more privacy,” Damian said with no preamble. He then refused to elaborate regardless of any questions that Duke had.

“Yo, Tim, we've got company,” Duke shouted when they stepped over the threshold of their temporary home. Marinette moved to grip Damian's hand as soon as the door shut behind them and he squeezed back reassuringly.

Marinette took a deep breath as they moved to the kitchen to have the following discussion. She knew it was necessary but she was terrified - she'd never told someone her secret identity but she was willing if it ended the threat hanging over her head.

“Oh, hey Marinette, what are you doing here? Not that you're not welcome! But we weren't expecting you,” Tim said as he came to join them. She exchanged a glance with Damian and he nodded ever so slightly. 

“Um, well, I actually came to talk to you about something that couldn't wait. Otherwise I would've held off until I saw you tonight for our regularly scheduled get together,” she said, hands fidgeting. “God, this is weird. Okay, so this morning, I met Duke out of my suit for the first time, and he noticed my Kwami hiding in my bag.”

“... You're Ladybug?” Tim sounded dumbstruck, staring at her in astonishment. She nodded shyly, opening her bag and letting Tikki out. She floated over to Duke first, who blinked at her but didn't make any other sign of surprise.

“Tt, I feel like that is stating the obvious,” Damian said, placing a comforting hand on her back. She gave him a grateful smile, leaning into him. “You have met her both in the suit and out, Drake, you should have deduced it.”

“Be fair, Damian, it's not like I've spent all that much time with Tim,” Marinette said softly. “And really, there's a bunch of magic that's supposed to get in the way.”

“Wait, are you telling me you worked out it was her?” Duke piped up, looking at Marinette and Damian with suspicion. Apparently whatever he saw confirmed what he was thinking because his eyes widened. “Holy hell, are you two dating?”

“Pft, yeah, sure they are,” Tim said, dismissing it out of hand before pausing and looking at how closely Marinette stood to Damian. “No, wait a minute. You said ‘boyfriend’ the other night, didn't you?”

“Tt, Duke is correct, we are in a relationship and have been since we visited Paris for our initial assessment of the situation. It is ridiculous that none of you noticed the change in my habits, but you can be rather obtuse.”

Both Duke and Tim stared at him like he had grown an extra head but he refused to indulge their curiosity any further. Marinette decided that they had gone off topic for long enough, clearing her throat delicately to get their attention back.

“Right, so, back to this morning? Duke could see Tikki, who was in my purse. Which means he could probably find Nooroo, wherever he is, which would tell us who Hawkmoth is.”

“Yeah, the energy signature is pretty unique. But how do we know that the butterfly Kwami will have the same signature? Don't they all have different powers? What if that changes the signature?”

“Oh, I hadn't thought of that,” Marinette said, biting her lip thoughtfully. She glanced at Tikki, having a conversation with no words and the tiny god dipped her head slightly. “Okay, so I can probably get another Kwami to do the check with, but not until tomorrow.”

“You just…have a stash of tiny gods you can borrow?” Duke said, looking at her like she was crazy. She blushed and Damian scowled at Duke. “What? That's a reasonable thing to question, Damian! Also, I can't believe you found the local hero and decided to date her.”

“Do not be preposterous, I did not know she was the local hero until we returned to Paris. We have been dating since our meal with her uncle,” Damian corrected him, and Marinette felt a giddy rush of joy flood through her.

After that, they chatted for thirty minutes, Tim demanding answers to all of his questions before saying that he would be telling the rest of the family. Damian accepted this with his usual grouchy demeanour, ending the Q&A by saying he would get Marinette home.

_ _ _

Adrien was itching to go and visit Marinette. He wanted to do it as Chat Noir but he had been working very hard on wooing her in their suits, so the direction change might tip his hand that he knew more than he should.

But his movements were so restricted as Adrien! Every time he thought he had slipped away from the Gorilla, or Lila, or his father, Marinette had the new Gotham student practically hanging off her arm! He knew it couldn't be true, but people were even speculating that Marinette liked Damian.

Sure, the dark haired, aggressively reclusive boy clearly liked Marinette - who wouldn't, she was Ladybug - but there was no way she liked him back. Marinette had told him well before this that she had feelings for another boy. If she was going to move on from the mystery boy, Chat Noir was the obvious choice, so he was annoyed that Damian was so constantly in her space.

There had been several akumas since the bat family had descended upon Paris and they said they were making progress, but they hadn't shared it yet. Ladybug had asked about it after the akuma Party Crasher and they had claimed they were narrowing the pool of suspects down but didn't want to share their suspicions until after they had checked the last few out.

Ladybug had accepted this without argument, but Adrien had been annoyed, and vocal about it. When they had parted, Ladybug had stayed behind, assumedly to smooth any ruffled feathers, which had annoyed him even more. What was with Marinette's sudden closeness with Gotham boys?

So now, he was heading to the Grévin wax museum to redo a hand cast for his wax statue. He invited Marinette, Alya and Nino and got enthusiastic responses from two of them. Marinette seemed to be babysitting, but he sent a message saying that he was sure whoever she was with would enjoy all of the statues, and she was welcome to bring them along.

He regretted it immensely when Marinette arrived in the company, not only of an excitable preschooler, but of Damian Thomas. They were fairly glued together, Adrien struggling to get in between them, and then he was pulled away to get his hand recast.

He spent the entire time with the sculptor riddled with anxious energy and wanting to return to the others. He spotted Nino and Alya playing hide and seek with Manon and went past without stopping. He almost missed seeing Marinette and Damian because they were wedged into a corner, having what looked to be a serious conversation.

Before he could get any closer there was a loud bang and several akumatised wax statues burst out of the door from the Ladybug and Chat Noir exhibit. Instinctively, Adrien ducked out of sight but not before he saw Lady WiFi shoot a pause button at Damian that froze him in the act of cornering Marinette.

Adrien grinned with satisfaction before calling for his transformation and scampering away to help take down the akuma.

_ _ _

Marinette called for Miraculous Ladybug and sighed in relief. She made sure Manon made it back to Alya and Nino safely before detransforming and rushing to find Damian. Fortunately he was standing in almost exactly the same place she had been forced to leave him.

“Damian! Are you okay?” She asked, gripping the front of his jacket as she skidded to a stop in front of him. He gave her an amused look but allowed her to hang off of his front without complaint. “Come on, we should rejoin the others, we'll have to talk about what Tim was saying later.”

When they rejoined the group, Manon burst into tears and threw herself at Marinette. The older girl consoled her, rubbing her back and saying reassuring nonsense. Once she was calmer, she was set back on the floor and turned to Damian.

“I'm sorry,” she said in a small voice, and Marinette's heart ached. It didn't matter how much she, as Ladybug or Marinette, told people that they weren't to blame for their actions as akumas, she imagined the guilt must be horrific.

Damian dropped to one knee so he could be on her eye level before speaking. “Manon, it is not your fault. I am sorry that you felt ignored, I should not have taken Marinette's attention away from you while she was babysitting. If it is alright with you, perhaps we may look through the statues together, all three of us?”

Manon squealed and gave him a tight hug that made Marinette smile softly. She knew Damian could be soft when he wanted to, but it was still heartwarming to see him interact with kids.

When they finished walking around the exhibits, Marinette said goodbye to her friends and went with Damian to return Manon to her mother. The reporter gave her a knowing smile when she introduced Damian and Marinette flushed with embarrassment.

As they walked back to Damian's apartment Marinette felt at ease, something she had taken for granted before becoming a superheroine. She basked in the calm, optimistic that she would soon be free of Hawkmoth.

_ _ _

Adrien was determined to talk to Marinette and he was at his limit. Every time he tried to talk to her, Damian was lurking. It was like the other boy didn't understand that he was monopolising Marinette's time, not to mention that he had to be making her uncomfortable. 

So when he overheard Damian saying that he had to speak with some family members that still lived in New Jersey and would be busy that afternoon? Adrien jumped at the opportunity to speak with Marinette without him. 

He took care to arrange his day so that he had free time as soon as school was over. Once he got to the car, he informed the Gorilla that he needed to speak with a classmate. He waited eagerly for Marinette to come out of the building but was dismayed when she still left with Damian.

To make matters worse, she didn't go home! Instead, she followed along with the dark haired boy and disappeared around a corner quickly. Cursing inwardly, he found himself trapped when Lila came over to talk to him, so he couldn't follow after the pair.

Delayed but not defeated, he asked Gorilla to drive in the direction he had seen Marinette and Damian going. Using SnapChat he was able to pinpoint the building Marinette was in (it wasn't creepy and weird, it was resourceful). But then it took nearly an hour for her to emerge, and somehow she did so with Damian again.

He felt his fists clench and he exited the car. The pair strolled casually along the street, not quite touching but not giving an awful lot of space. He waited for them to separate, for Marinette to tell Damian that she had to go home or something.

It felt like he had been hit in the stomach when the other boy pulled his lady to a stop in a quiet area. Marinette turned to Damian with a bright smile before pulling him down and kissing him. 

Turning away, Adrien ran blindly until he was back at the car.

_ _ _

Damian had been dreading this day ever since he had decided to pursue Marinette. She had laughed at his reluctance but he knew that this was going to be the most irritating and pointless thing he had ever done. But Marinette had agreed to meet the rest of his family by video chat and so he was stuck with it.

“Dami, it's going to be fine,” Marinette said soothingly. He grumbled and she giggled a little; they were walking down the street, her hand in his now that they were far enough away from the school. “You do realise that I need to meet them if we're going to keep dating, right?”

“I simply do not see why it is necessary that you meet all of them now. Surely meeting my father would suffice,” Damian said, practically growling in frustration. “Richard is going to be unbearable, and Jason insufferable.”

Marinette was quiet for several moments before speaking. “Do you think they won't like me?” She asked in a soft voice, and Damian felt awful for making her think it.

“Marinette, they are going to adore you,” he said firmly. “Father already thought you were delightful when he first met you and Timothy has been telling all of them about your wonderful qualities. This is purely their curiosity, which is why I deem it unnecessary.”

“I would like to meet them,” she said softly, and Damian couldn't think of any further arguments. 

When they arrived at the apartment they could hear Tim already giving a debrief of their current progress.

“...meeting with Agreste in an hour. With any luck, we'll either confirm that he's our culprit or strike him off our list.”

“Excellent work, thank you,” Bruce said, eyes flicking to the pair that had just entered the apartment. “Hello, Damian, I trust school is going well? And Marinette, lovely to see you again.”

“Tt, it is fine,” Damian said grouchily. But before Marinette could say her own greeting, Bruce was being pushed out of the screen in favour of another black haired, blue-eyed man. Given the squeal that came out of him, Marinette assumed that this must be Richard Grayson.

“Oh my gosh, you're so small! And cute! Jay, Jay, isn't she so small?” 

“Jesus, she's not just small, she's adorable,” another, bigger man chimed in. Marinette blinked as she saw yet another blue-eyed, black hair combo. “How're you doing, sweetheart?”

“I'm okay,” she squeaked, stepping closer to Damian as they scrutinised her. Giving her hand a squeeze, Damian turned a glower on his brothers.

“Oh my god, she even sounds adorable! It's so nice to meet you, Marinette, I'm Dick and this is Jason. We're Damian's two oldest brothers,” Dick said excitedly.

“This is trippy, are we sure she's not there under duress?” Jason joked, eyeing the closeness of the pair and the protective way Damian stood in front of her. “But seriously, good job Demon Spawn, she's way out of your league.”

“That's not-”

“Tt, I am well aware of that, thank you Todd,” Damian snapped, making Marinette flush. “You have met her now, I trust you will respect her privacy and leave us alone?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Jason snorted, giving him a look that Marinette interpreted as ‘I’ll do whatever I want’. “You do realise that if it doesn't work out, she is literally adoption bait?”

“Jay, don't say things like that-” Dick jumped straight in and the two began to bicker, with Bruce sighing in the background as he tried to moderate. Eventually Tim and Duke announced that they had to leave for their meeting and to ‘have fun’.

Once they were gone, Bruce finally managed to end the argument between his two eldest children. He turned back to Damian and Marinette and asked if they had anything new to add in regards to the investigation into Hawkmoth.

“No, but I'm taking Damian to meet my mentor today, hopefully he can add some further insight just in case Gabriel isn't our problem,” Marinette said, channeling her Ladybug persona as she thought about Master Fu. “And I want to see if there are any Miraculous that Damian would work well with.”

They chatted for a while longer, flipping between hero work and school life before Damian said that it was fine he got Marinette home. Jason made kissing noises which made Marinette blush and Damian scowl, but Dick smacked him before saying goodbye to the pair. 

“You should give a call to Cass when you get the chance, Damian,” Bruce added before the call ended. “She has been very interested in finding out more about your girlfriend.”

“Tt, very well. At least Cassandra is better than this pair,” Damian said as they ended the video. Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief when she was certain they were no longer in the meeting. “That was every bit as bad as I feared they would be, are you alright?”

“I'm fine, but if we want to get to Fu’s, we should hurry,” Marinette said, heading for the door. They walked down the streets, not touching but not straying too far from one another. 

Damian felt on edge as soon as they exited the apartment building. He usually felt like he was being watched but it had intensified. But when he looked around, he couldn't see anyone out of place. There was a parked town car and several harried looking individuals hurrying along, so he tried to set it out of his mind. 

It didn't help that he had been on edge about Marinette meeting his other two brothers, and he wondered if that was contributing to his unsettled feeling. They walked at an unhurried pace until the street became more secluded. 

Deciding it would be worth stopping to look around again, Damian put a hand on Marinette's arm. He was about to tell her that he felt watched when she gave him a broad smile before pulling him into a kiss. He pressed into her, hand almost unconsciously burying itself in her hair.

When they broke apart a minute or two later, the feeling of being watched was gone and the thoughts melted away.

_ _ _

Adrien muttered to himself almost the entire way home. He was so full of anger and feelings so betrayed that he was amazed that he hadn't been akumatised. Or at least, he would have been if he could think past the hurt of seeing Marinette kissing someone else.

His father was apparently in a meeting with an American CEO and Nathalie informed him that he would be eating dinner alone again. Still grumbling and generally in a bad temper, Adrien thanked her stiffly before heading to his room.

Once he was in his room, he slumped at his desk, pushing his mouse to activate the screen. He gave a dejected sigh as he stared at his Ladybug background until Plagg made a disgusted noise and loudly demanded to know where his camembert was.

“Plagg, now isn't a great time,” Adrien said, although he pulled a fresh wheel out and tossed a piece to his Kwami. He glared moodily at the desktop, not bothering to start any of his homework or extracurriculars. After he had finished his camembert, Plagg came over to talk to him.

“Plagg, why did she choose him?” Adrien asked, ignoring the distinct whine to his voice. “They barely know each other! And how could she want to date someone who's less than her? She's a superhero, and he's just some American.”

“This is why I always say cheese is better than romance!” Plagg said cheerfully, settling onto Adrien's shoulder. “Forget about her, you still have Kagami!”

“Plagg, it's Ladybug and Chat Noir, not Chat Noir and Kagami,” Adrien half-shouted, annoyed. He heard a knock at the door a moment later and shooed Plagg before calling out to Nathalie.

“Adrien, your father needs to speak with you,” she answered, stepping into the room. She looked both concerned and pitying, uncomfortable like Adrien had never seen before.

“Sure,” he replied, following her down. He saw the Americans being shown out of the building and recognition tickled his brain. What was Damian Thomas's brother doing with a CEO? 

After he was shown into his father's office, what happened next took on a nightmare-like quality. It happened in a blur, starting with his father telling him he needed to show him something, and ending in seeing his dead mother's body in a glass coffin. 

After that, things were on double speed, transforming into Chat Noir, getting smacked across the city until he was fighting his father-as-Hawkmoth near the Eiffel Tower.

_ _ _

Marinette and Damian were chatting seriously with Fu about the different Miraculous available for Damian when both of their phones began to ring. Damian's turned out to be his brothers and Marinette's was an alert that Hawkmoth had been spotted fighting Chat Noir.

They looked at each other before Marinette let her intuition guide her. She grabbed the turtle Miraculous and slid it onto Damian's wrist as he talked on the phone. He nodded at her as he spoke and ended the call quickly.

“We were correct, Gabriel is Hawkmoth. Apparently Chat Noir discovered this as well and confronted the man without us because Duke and Tim saw him being forcefully ejected from the Agreste mansion. They are trying to follow them but it is proving difficult.”

“Then there's no time to lose. This is Wayzz, he is the Kwami for the Miraculous of protection. To activate, say Wayzz, shell on. Your power activates when you say ‘Shelter’ and will form a protective orb around the item of your choosing. It often goes around the shield that comes with your suit.”

Once he was ready, they hurried to leave Fu's store front, finding an alley to transform in before they rushed to the battle. Marinette jumped and swung frantically, not wanting her partner to be injured, or have his Miraculous removed.

“Watch out!” Damian shouted, leaping for her as Hawkmoth was sent flying into the building she landed on. It began to crumble and he leapt expertly to catch her and roll them safely to the next building. He cradled her head and grunted as they landed, but they were both standing within the next moment.

“No!” Chat howled from a nearby rooftop, but he wasn't looking at Hawkmoth. He appeared to be looking in Marinette's direction, and she worried that he was noting the way Damian hovered protectively. But, surely, he couldn't guess that there was a more romantic aspect to her relationship with a brand new hero?

But Hawkmoth seemed to be ready to take advantage of Chat's anger and a purple butterfly landed on his bell. She sucked in a horrified gasp of air as the sickly violet aura overtook him and left behind an almost exact copy of her kitty - but pure white, with blue eyes.

She watched with mounting horror as Chat seemed to fight with himself, building a cataclysm that he pointed at Hawkmoth and her alternately. He looked to be unable to decide and the cataclysm continued to grow until it became clear that he couldn't control it. Damian gasped as a rush of energy began to spread from where the akumatised Chat Noir stood.

Damian gripped her tightly around the waist with one arm as he screamed out ‘Shelter’, his other arm holding the shield high and praying that it was enough. Marinette willed all of her power to flow into the shield he was creating, countering the destruction barreling towards them. 

She gripped the arm around her middle so hard she thought her fingers would break. As the final waves of Chat’s power echoed and faded, the power of Shelter flickered and died. Damian's breathing faltered and he slid to the floor, and Marinette was too shocked to hold him up.

She gave a panicked gasp and dropped to her knees beside him, hands fluttering to his throat to find a pulse. For a heart-stopping moment she couldn't find anything, couldn't see any sign of life and she felt her anxiety morph into a wordless, nameless anguish. But then she saw his chest rise ever so slightly and she thanked every deity she could name that he wasn't dead.

She dragged him to safety, placing him at the very top level of the mangled Eiffel Tower as water started flooding the streets. She kissed him softly on the lips, vowing silently that she would fix things. Steeling herself, she stepped away, looking for her other half, the balance of destruction to her creation.

He was standing on nearby building wreckage, searching frantically for something. She took a hard swallow as she realised that she was what he was searching for. She stared at the destruction he had wreaked, pushing away the mounting horror as she looked up to the now split moon and braced herself.

“Chaton, what's going on?” She called out, her voice only wavering slightly. He turned towards her and she froze as she took in the white suit and bright blue eyes. He landed in front of her and she swallowed again, trying not to show how nervous she was. “Chat Noir?”

“It's Chat Blanc now, m'lady!” There was a slightly manic gleam in his eyes and he was eyeing her earrings almost hungrily. “And if you had been paying more attention to me - as you should - instead of fooling around with that new brat, you would know what was happening, Marinette.”

“You…when did you find out?” She breathed, keeping herself out of his reach as he stalked towards her. He growled slightly when his reaching hands remained empty. “Chaton, this is serious! You've been akumatised and we need to fix this, because you've destroyed everything.”

He hissed and pounced at her then, his eyes narrowed to slits. She rolled out of the way, wondering how she could defeat him so she could fix everything. They fought like that for several minutes, Chat aiming for her earrings and Marinette rolling out of the way and reach for his akumatised object. 

“M'lady, if you give me the earrings I can fix all of this,” he hissed, clearly frustrated. It was so unlike her kitty that it made her fumble momentarily. He caught her wrist and pinned it to her waist.

“Or you give me the akuma and I use Miraculous Ladybug to restore everything,” she countered, slamming her elbow towards his face. He hissed again and dropped her hand so she swung her yo-yo in a wide arc to get herself some space.

“But if you ‘restore’ things, we won't be together, Maribug,” Chat said, straightening up and raising a single hand. A bright ball of something crackled and he aimed towards her. She flipped out of harm's way just in time, watching as the building remnants behind her were reduced to complete rubble. “It's a mistake of cosmic proportions that we aren't together, and only something of cosmic proportions, like a wish, can fix that.”

Marinette flung herself behind a piece of wreckage and called for her lucky charm. A picture frame landed in her hands and her breath caught at the picture of their statue. The statue, to her at least, showed the first piece of art that displayed them as a team.

“Found you,” Chat hissed, pouncing onto her and knocking her feet out from under her. She held the picture up to his face, willing him to see what she did.

“See, even Tikki agrees, it's you and me against the world,” Marinette said desperately, trying not to look at the additional destruction and devastation around them. “Just because it's not romantic doesn't mean that's changed. You're my partner, Kitty, please, don't let it end like this.”

He hesitated and she whipped her hand to the bell at his throat. He yowled angrily, but she had hold of it and squeezed, putting all of her frustration and hurt into it. The bell snapped and the butterfly flapped out, almost lazily. Kicking Chat off of her, she flung out her yo-yo to capture it.

As the akumatisation bubbled away, Marinette was left staring at her partner, who looked around confusedly. He turned his eyes - green again, thankfully - back to her and they lit up momentarily. Then he seemed to take in her expression and faltered.

“Hey M’lady, what happened here?” He obviously didn't remember anything which made what Marinette had to say that much harder. 

“You know who I am,” she said, not bothering to ask the question. When he froze, she saw the quick mental maths that pushed him to realise that he must have been akumatised. She swallowed and hardened her tone to make it clear that she was angry with him. “And you decided you didn't like my boyfriend.”

“I…” he was at a loss for words and hung his head ashamedly. “I didn't mean for this to happen, I was just so…”

“You just decided you were entitled to me romantically,” Marinette said, making him wince. She hated that this was hurting him but, equally, he had killed everyone except them because he couldn't take the answer ‘no’ at face value. “Chaton, you're my partner, my best friend. For better or worse, we have a future together that the universe depends on for balance.

“But that doesn't mean we have to be together romantically. We work together as friends. You ended the world because you thought you were entitled to my time. That's…that's not healthy, Chat. Take it from me, being obsessed with someone to the point that you feel you have to be with them when they clearly don't feel the same ends up hurting you.”

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered, hanging his head in his hands. “It wasn't…it wasn't just you, M'lady. My father…he's Hawkmoth.”

“...Adrien?” He looked up at her with wide, desperate eyes and she felt her heart split in two. “Oh minou, I…look, we have a plan. The bats have a plan, it's a good, solid plan, and it can be done as soon as I fix everything. But if he knows your identity…”

“He has my mother,” Chat- Adrien whispered, voice trembling. Marinette's heart broke for him, her mind racing as she tried to think of how to take Hawkmoth down. She called for her Lucky Charm and received only a teapot, meaning she would need more Miraculous.

“Okay, what we’ll need to do first…” Marinette gave him a detailed rundown of what she expected to happen in the next couple of hours. And then she swallowed as she held her hand out for the ring. “I'm going to ask you to wear a different Miraculous for this fight, chaton.”

“But…okay,” Adrien said, sounding defeated. Once she had the ring in hand, she threw the teapot in the air, calling for Miraculous Ladybug. Everything righted in a swarm of ladybugs and Hawkmoth was lost from sight.

“Ladybug!” 

The pair turned towards the turtle hero who was launching towards them. He crashed into Ladybug and did a quick check over her, hands skimming her limbs one at a time before coming to cup her face.

“I'm alright,” she said gently, even as her timer started to beep. “But we need to move. I need to get Adrien somewhere safe and then get in touch with the Bats so that we can launch our counter-attack.”

_ _ _

They all agreed to meet up on the Eiffel Tower. Marinette and Damian had headed straight back to Master Fu's, and grabbed several Miraculi before meeting up with Tim and Duke. They had put in the request for aid from the Justice League and anticipated help from one or two of the more positive members of the team.

“You will like Superboy, I think,” Damian said as he let them into the apartment. They could hear Tim and Duke bustling around as they got their gear together and the animated sounds of someone zipping at unnatural speeds through the space. “Kid Flash is…unique.”

“Hey kids!” The yellow blur stopped in front of them, making the others look up and greet them before carrying on. “I'm going to be heading out in a second to visit the police station, just to give them a heads up on what we're doing.”

“Thank you, Kid Flash,” Marinette said warmly. She felt slightly exposed, standing in front of other heroes without her mask, but she hadn't wanted to draw attention to the apartment by coming as Ladybug. 

Throwing her a salute, Kid Flash zoomed away. Damian muttered something that sounded like ‘annoying speedster’ but Marinette ignored it. The pressure was beginning to mount and she could feel the buzz of nerves cutting into her stomach.

“It will all be over soon, Marinette,” Damian murmured, his arms wrapping around her comfortingly. She knew that it needed to end, now that she finally had proof that Gabriel was Hawkmoth, but she was also a little scared. 

It felt like no time at all before they were rushing away to the Eiffel Tower. She had transformed and swung by the bakery to collect Adrien, whom she had stashed in her room. She handed him the horse Miraculous and he transformed before they jumped into action.

On top of the Eiffel Tower were Kid Flash, Superboy, Signal, Robin and a new bee hero, also known as Red Robin. The plan was simple, but effective. Signal had written his testimony for the police and Red had compiled the other evidence that had led to the conclusion of Gabriel being Hawkmoth. In addition to this, Signal would be carrying a video camera that would allow him to capture the moment that they removed the Miraculous from the villain.

“So, Equestria here will open a portal into his father's lair as he's been there before. If Gabriel isn't there at the time, I'll need someone to check over Emilie Agreste and see if she can be saved or if he is, in fact, harbouring his wife's body in the hopes that he can reanimate it,” Ladybug said, wincing apologetically at Equestria as she said it.

“If he is there, I'll need both Kid Flash and Superboy to be ready to superspeed and grab his Miraculous if the plan with, um-”

“Hornet,” the bee hero supplied helpfully.

“Right, if the plan with Hornet fails and we can't just freeze him. If Mayura, who we assume is his assistant, is there, you'll be able to use your venom twice as you're an adult and freeze both of them but, again, having speedsters means that we have a contingency in place.

“I'm going to be there more as a final failsafe and recognisable Parisian heroine so that when we broadcast our non-fight people can be assured that it's real. And, if you're willing, Robin, I ask that you use the Miraculous of the black cat so that we can unbalance Gabriel even further.”

Everyone agreed and everything flowed smoothly from that point forward. It went exactly to plan, Ladybug mostly there to stand imperiously as the Justice League members did the brunt of the work. It was almost too easy, Mayura being frozen almost instantaneously before Superboy managed to subdue Hawkmoth.

The video of Gabriel being unmasked could have been choreographed with how much he wriggled, and snarled, demanding to know where his son was. Ladybug coldly informed him that Adrien had bravely stepped forward with the information he held and was being kept in a safe place until the Miraculi had been retrieved.

And just like that, months of fighting ended. Marinette would have said it was anticlimactic if it hadn't come on the heels of a world-ending catastrophic event. She handed Gabriel and Nathalie off to the police before collecting the bee Miraculous from Red Robin.

Then she, Damian and Adrien slipped away to visit Master Fu with the remaining Miraculous. They handed everything back to the older gentleman, who promised that he would be returning the box to Tibet before going in search of Marianne so that they could spend the rest of their lives together.

After a couple of very teary goodbyes, Marinette and Adrien said farewell to the Kwamis of destruction and creation. They left the massage parlour and Marinette felt the burden melt away from her shoulders. She gave a carefree laugh as she hugged Damian tightly, pushing away the thoughts that she still needed to work with Adrien to make sure his aunt could take him in.

Depositing Adrien back at the bakery, Marinette gave a brief and extremely sanitised explanation for why he couldn't go home. She neatly span the truth so that they didn't give away just how involved the pair had been in taking down the supervillains.

Damian had waited outside the bakery for her and didn't say anything when she reappeared, simply taking her hand and walking with her towards his temporary residence. He seemed to grow more contemplative the closer they got, and Marinette assumed he was thinking about how soon he would need to go home.

He pulled her to a stop a street away from their destination and wrapped her in his arms. 

“I wish I could stay,” he murmured, pressing her against his chest. She felt tears welling in her eyes and blinked them away as she gripped the back of his jacket tightly. The day was fading into evening and Marinette realised that her night time meetings with vigilantes on top of the Eiffel Tower were over. “But the most I will be able to convince my father of is a week.”

“I understand,” she said, voice muffled. It was going to be unspeakably hard to be without him, but she knew that Gotham was his home.

“But the Zeta tube will remain, so perhaps I shall be able to…persuade my father that regular visits are necessary,” he added, a small smile obvious in his voice. “We would need to stay out of sight to avoid suspicion, but I imagine we could find ways to occupy the time.”

[insanityclause]

Coming to viewers from the end of time seated upon his throne on Yggdrasil, the God of Mischief is bestowing upon his loyal subjects the most highly-anticipated release of the year: Loki Season 2 on 4K UHD. Today, Marvel Studios announced that fans of the Tom Hiddleston-led Disney+ series can expect to add the critically celebrated follow-up season to their collection on December 3, 2024. There’s plenty to be excited about here as, along with the six-episode season, buyers will also get their hands on a gorgeously crafted SteelBook with exclusive art and collector's cards nestled inside. If content is more your thing, there’s plenty to feast your eyes upon with heaps of bonus features to keep you entertained.

The first season of Loki left audiences on quite a cliffhanger, forcing us to wait more than two full years for the next lineup of episodes to drop. But, boy, were they worth the wait. Season 2 of the beloved series followed Loki and his ragtag group of outcast TVA workers as they tried to find the truth about what was happening within the organization's walls. Solidifying himself as the hero we’ve always known him as, Loki finds his glorious purpose by the time the credits roll on the heartfelt, emotional second season.

‘Loki’ Season 2’s Bonus Features

If you can’t get enough of Loki, the bonus features included in the special release will give you the extra fix you’ve been looking for as you’ll laugh, cry, and cheer right alongside the folks who brought Loki’s story to the small screen. Take a look down Hiddleston’s personal sacred timeline as the featurette, Loki Through Time, digs into the actor’s more than decade of playing the character. No special features list would be complete without a gag reel and with a cast that includes Owen Wilson, the laughs are endless.

There are also a handful of deleted scenes, featuring more of Sylvie’s (Sophia Di Martino) story as a McDonald’s employee and another that sits audiences down with Mobius (Wilson) and Loki as they enjoy a slice of key lime pie. Finally, fans can pull the curtain back on the making of the series as they step onto the set and see how the show was pulled together. Nothing like the magic of Marvel right at your fingertips! Check out the full list of bonus features below:

Loki Through Time — Travel through over a decade of Loki’s timeline with Tom Hiddleston, Kevin Feige and more as they dive deeper into the villainous yet lovable character that fans can’t get enough of in the Loki series.

Gag Reel — Take a look at some of the fun moments on set with the cast an crew of Loki Season 2.

Deleted/Extended Scenes

What Would You Like? — Distraught after the events of season 1, Sylvie leaves the Citidel at the End of Time and finds an escape in a McDonald's in 1982.

Key Lime Break — Loki and Mobius share a moment savoring a key lime pie in the TVA lunchroom.

Roll Call — Loki names off all the people who have spoken ill of him in the past, including a few recognizable names. Mobius tries to comfort him.

Assembled: The Making of Loki Season 2 — Join the cast and crew of Loki Season 2 as they pull back the curtain on Loki’s Iatest MCU adventure.

Take a look at the gorgeous SteelBook artwork above and plan to pick up a copy of Loki Season 2 4K UHD for yourself or the mischievous troublemaker in your life on December 3. Both seasons of Loki are now streaming on Disney+.

[goodnightmemes]

SUPERNATURAL SENTENCE STARTERS / SEASONS 4 - 5

❛ What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved? ❜

❛ You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in. ❜

❛ Destiny can’t be changed. All roads lead to the same destination. ❜

❛ I have questions. I have doubts. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong anymore. ❜

❛ The only reason you’re still alive is because you’ve been useful. But the moment that ceases to be true, the second you become more trouble than you’re worth, one word, one, and I will turn you to dust. ❜

❛ Who do I have to kill to get some French fries around here? ❜

❛ How I feel, this… inside me, I wish I couldn’t feel anything. I wish I couldn’t feel a damn thing. ❜

❛ We’re all scared. That’s the big secret… We’re all scared. ❜

❛ If you think you have good intentions, think again. ❜

❛ It’s not blame that falls on you. It’s fate. ❜

❛ I’m tired of burying friends. ❜

❛ You ask me to open that door and walk through it…? You will not like what walks back out. ❜

❛ I’m sorry. This is a very serious, very emotional situation for you. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just that, I mean, are they serious? They sent you to torture me? ❜

❛ Oh, you’ll spill your guts, one way or the other. I just didn’t want to ruin my shoes. ❜

❛ Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things. Save people. ❜

❛ I can’t see your face, but those are definitely your brooding and pensive shoulders. ❜

❛ You promised me my family would be okay! You promised you were gonna take care of them! ❜

❛ I gave you everything you asked me to give. I gave you more. This is the thanks I get? This is what you do? ❜

❛ Now for the punch line. Everybody dies. ❜

❛ Now I’m asking you, for once, trust me. ❜

❛ Maybe you’re right. Maybe there’s, no escape. After all, how can you run from what’s inside you? ❜

❛ You don’t know me. You never did. And you never will. ❜

❛ Well, boo hoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! ❜

❛ Are you under the impression that family’s supposed to make you feel good, make you an apple pie, maybe? They’re supposed to make you miserable! That’s why they’re family! ❜

❛ We’ve been through much together, you and I. And I just wanted… to say, I’m sorry it ended like this. ❜

❛ What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here! ❜

❛ No more crap about being a good soldier, there is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it! ❜

❛ If there is anything worth dying for, this is it. ❜

❛ Well, can’t make an omelet without cracking a few eggs. In this case, truckloads of eggs, but you get the picture. ❜

❛ Oh God. Is that a molar? I have a molar in my hair? This has been a really stressful day. ❜

❛ I’ve got no idea, but what I do have is a GED and a give-em hell attitude, and I’ll figure it out. ❜

❛ I’m hunted, I rebelled, and I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed. ❜

❛ I lost everything… for nothing. ❜

❛ You feel bad now? Wait ‘till you’re thigh-deep in warm corpses. 'Cause my friend, I’m just getting started. ❜

❛ We’ve talked about this. Personal space? ❜

❛ I was dead from the moment we said hello. ❜

❛ Don’t you get it? You can’t run from yourself. ❜

❛ Same song, different verse. Things are never gonna change with you. Ever. ❜

❛ My heart breaks for you. The weight on your shoulders, what you’ve done, what you still have to do. It is more than anyone could bear. ❜

❛ You’re not fooling me, you know that? With this sympathy for the Devil crap? I know what you are. ❜

❛ Whatever you do, you will always end up here. No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up…here. ❜

❛ Maybe we are each other’s Achilles’ Heel. Maybe they’ll find a way to use us against each other, I don’t know. I just know we’re all we’ve got. ❜

❛ You can do the right thing. You’ve got choices. But if you make the wrong ones, it’ll haunt you for the rest of your life. ❜

❛ I have to believe someone can make the right choice, even if I couldn’t. ❜

❛ You know, I’m starting to get why parents lie to their kids. You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke - protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it. ❜

❛ I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow. But this is real. And it’s gonna end bloody for all of us. That’s just how it’s gotta be. ❜

❛ Now listen very closely. Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you! ❜

❛ Are you giving me the 'Last Night on Earth’ speech? ❜

❛ What a peculiar thing you are. ❜

❛ I still love him. But I am going to kill him because it is right and I have to. ❜

❛ Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is? Because it’s not random. It’s not chance. It’s a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will’s an illusion. ❜

❛ I can see how broken you are, how defeated; you can’t win and you know it, but you just keep fighting, just keep going through the motions. You’re not hungry, because inside, you’re already dead. ❜

❛ We’re supposed to be a team, it’s supposed to be you and me against the world, right? ❜

❛ Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that… I got laid. ❜

❛ Well, we’re working on the power of love. ❜

❛ I love you, but you are a great big bag of dicks. ❜

❛ No one gives us the right. We take it. ❜

❛ If anyone gets to end this world, it’s me. ❜

❛ Before we get down to brass tacks, some ground rules: No slaughtering each other, curb your wrath. Oh, and keep your hands off the local virgins. We’re trying to keep a low profile here. ❜

❛ Get the hell off my property before I blast you so full of rock salt, you crap margaritas. ❜

❛ I don’t understand your definition of good news. ❜

❛ You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be. ❜

❛ You have an inflated sense of your importance. ❜

❛ To a thing like me, a thing like you, well… Think how you’d feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. ❜

❛ I’m old. Very old. So, I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you. ❜

❛ However you feel now, it’s only gonna get so very, very much worse… questions? ❜

❛ I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol. ❜

❛ You’re not a kid anymore, and I can’t keep treating you like one. Maybe I gotta grow up a little, too. ❜

❛ Come on, I’ve never lied to you, you could at least pay me the same respect. ❜

❛ We’re going to kill each other. And for what? We don’t even know the answer. Let’s just walk off the chessboard. ❜

❛ What would you rather have: peace or freedom? ❜

[jomiddlemarch]

That it alone is high fantastical

“Oh, Mother, you’ll never guess! You’ll never guess in century of guessing!” Rilla cried out, sounding so much as she had as a little girl, for a moment, Anne could convince herself the War had never happened and that somewhere in Rainbow Valley, Walter sat writing a crown of sonnets in his leather-bound journal, his face dappled by the light, back braced against the bole of a birch tree, his grey eyes unfocused as he searched for his next word.

There was still a white stone in the graveyard. Shirley was in Toronto, having refused (albeit politely) to return to Glen St. Mary, much to Susan’s dismay, and Jem walked with a pronounced limp, his uneven gait announcing him as much as Mary’s voice.

There was a mystery there, Jem and Mary Vance, but Anne couldn’t see any way through it and Gilbert, lying beside her in bed, both of them tired but sleepless, told her not to try. Jem had seemed less removed, less falsely cheerful lately, and had begun talking about the medical course again, perhaps a specialty in obstetrics, a hospital practice. As far away from men dying in battle as he can get, Gilbert had observed and Anne had recalled Joyce’s little face, white as a mayflower blossom, and held her tongue.

Rilla, remarkably, given her exuberant entrance, had done the same in the absence of Anne’s response. Miss Oliver had left Ingleside some weeks ago, so there was no one to suggest Rilla either elaborate or calm herself, as her likeness to a whistling copper tea-kettle was increasingly pronounced.

“If I’ll never guess, dear, you must tell me,” Anne said. It was a relief that Rilla could still be the young girl she ought to be, for all that she wore Ken Ford’s diamond ring on her finger and was capable of a brisk, warm matronliness when it came to raising Jims, now reserved for the writing of letters to his new British stepmother and clucking over the missives she received.

“Faith Meredith has eloped!”

Anne did admit to herself she would never have guessed that, because for all her imagination, she wouldn’t have guessed something impossible.

“But, Rilla, Jem is with your father today, doing the Lowbridge rounds. Susan and I packed a lunch with plenty of pie for Dad and some of that flapjack Jem took to after being in England,” Anne said. He’d been in hospital in England, recovering from the injuries he’d sustained at the Front, in the prison camp, during his escape, none of which was spoken of. Only flapjack and stewed tea and how no cook in England was a patch on Susan and that you may tie to, uttered with some semblance of his old roguish humor.

“I didn’t say she married Jem, Mother!” Rilla exclaimed. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were bright. She had a look of Gilbert at his most delighted about him, an expression Anne remembered from their childhood. Anne opened her mouth to speak but Rilla interrupted.

“It’s Bertie Shakespeare Drew! Faith Meredith is Mrs. Bertie Shakespeare!” Rilla said.

If Anne hadn’t already been sitting down, she would have, suddenly and gracelessly. As it was, the shirt she’d been mending fell from her lap.

“That’s—why, Rilla, are you sure?”

“I heard it directly from Mary Vance,” Rilla said, lifting a hand to stop Anne from speaking. “And Miss Cornelia Bryant. You know Miss Cornelia has no taste for gossip. Miss Cornelia’d heard it from Mrs. Meredith—”

“Poor Rosemary,” Anne said, before she could stop herself.

“Why poor Rosemary? I suppose they thought Faith and Jem would make a go of it, at least, perhaps Reverend Meredith and Mrs. Meredith did, but the War’s done funny things to people and Faith and Jem, they just didn’t fit any longer,” Rilla said. Sometimes, Anne felt Rilla reminded her of someone she couldn’t name and realized her youngest daughter spoke with the wisdom Anne’s own mother might have had. Plenty of folks in the Glen would find such a thought eerie, but Anne was comforted, for all that she ought to be the one offering a thoughtful explanation rather than receiving it.

“I suppose I meant the surprise, an elopement—”

“They must not have wanted to wait. Or were afraid someone would try to talk them out of it. Bertie’s mother maybe,” Rilla said.

Rosemary or her father, Anne thought. Jem, if he’d been given the chance, perhaps. Perhaps not, if Rilla was correct.

“Bertie Shakespeare Drew,” Anne said. “I remember when he was born. He’s just Jem’s age.”

“He’s not much like you remember him, Mother. He’s all tall and stalwart now and they say he’s going in for engineering, that he learned quite a bit in France, found he had a talent for that sort of thing. And his ears don’t stick out quite so much anymore,” Rilla said.

“There’re more things on heav’n and earth,” Anne said, mangling the quote a bit, fairly certain Rilla would not correct her. “D’you suppose Faith calls him Bertie? Or his full name—it’s quite a mouthful.”

Queenly Faith Meredith, the undisputed beauty of Glen St. Mary, who had a sense of humor but also a sense of herself as beyond any teasing, now to be Mrs. Bertie Shakespeare Drew. Anne smiled to herself and thought how Mary Vance would find a way to make Jem grin over it all. She’s lucky to get him, Mary would say, reversing the order the Glen would have assumed, and Mary, canny and unexpectedly kind, would have the right of it, perhaps.

Susan would be quite outraged and the pastry of her next pie might suffer for it, but Gilbert had always taken an unchristian glee in Susan’s outrage and wouldn’t mind the pastry being a bit heavier. It was still the best piecrust on Prince Edward Island, now that Mrs. Rachel Lynde was no longer living to give Susan a run for her money.

“Miss Cornelia said Faith was heard to call him Will, when she spoke to her parents. It’s after Shakespeare of course, and because he was so determined they marry,” Rilla said. 

“And because Faith wanted to,” Anne said. She wasn’t sure if she meant the elopement or the name, but it was all of a piece.

“Miss Cornelia said they’d gone to New York for their honeymoon and she hoped Faith didn’t come back with a bunch of silly Yankee airs but Mary and I didn’t think that was likely,” Rilla said, sitting down beside Anne, picking up the shirt and starting to sew.

“She didn’t come back from England any different, after all,” Rilla said.

“Except that she didn’t marry your brother,” Anne replied.

“D’you know, Mother, even without the War, I don’t think they’d ever have gone through with it, Faith and Jem,” Rilla said. “It was, how shall I put it, like a childhood fairy tale, the honorable knight and the maiden fair, all sorts of adventures they had in Rainbow Valley. They were always going to grow up. We all were.”

Not Walter, Anne’s heart said. Not Joyce.

“I’m glad of Ken’s name, anyway. And don’t worry, I wouldn’t elope for anything. I want our families around us, as many as we can get, even if we have to wait. We’re rather good at that,” Rilla said. She’d finished the one shirt and picked up another. She peered at it, frowned. “I can’t think what Dad does to his clothes—”

“I’ve made up a thousand stories to try to explain that and I still don’t think I’ve figured it out,” Anne said. “Some things, my darling girl, are beyond explanation.”

This one's for @freyafrida because I didn't manage to squeeze Faith/Bertie Shakespeare into my Jem/Mary fic...

[radiantsmites]

star and marco's baker disguises from "escape from the pie folk" s4 ep 2

[yahoo201027]

Day in Fandom History: March 10…

Star, Marco, and River all travel down to an island that is home to the Pie Folk where she must outwit the citizens and find her mother but also learn about her heritage once reunited. “Escape from the Pie Folk” premiered on this day, 5 Years Ago.

[twig-tea]

So I caught up on Naughty Babe and I'm a bit confused as to why folks are confused. Here's my understanding of where we're at:

Yi knows that KhonDiao's family have been taking advantage

He was delaying the wedding and working hard, I'm assuming figuring out how to get them out of the bonkers contracts the families signed

He's pretending to still have memory loss to be able to trick them/catch the shitty family members out

He also kept it from KhonDiao because he didn't want to tell him about his family and didn't otherwise know how to explain it without hurting him

KhonDiao figured it out anyway and has his own plan (to run away from the wedding and escape via helicopter)

Yi knows about the plan and has his own plan, probably relying on KhonDiao's plan plus his own fake amnesia

Meanwhile KhonDiao's and Yi's family members (KhonDiao's dad, stepmom, half siblings , and uncle; Yi's estranged mom) are conspiring to get even more out of this couple.

I... think that's what's happening? Someone tell me if I got something wrong because I admit I only half watched while I was catching up on tumblr yesterday but I've seen a few people confused about why the fake amnesia even happened so I thought I should check in if I missed something.

As always with this series I'm frustrated that their go-to even after a communication breakthrough is to once again keep secrets from one another but that's this universe's brand lol

The only part I don't understand is why they retconned the sex that was clearly signalled to have occurred between KhonDiao and Yi in Cutie Pie.

[lil-doodle-noodle]

NO NAME AU

(HORROR AU)

CREATURES

Poppy: In the kitchen, making delicious pies! Who doesn't want a pie made out of the small people running around like mice? Her mouth is usually closed, opening to show a mouth wider than it should be.

Howdy: Long arms, like a spider, and moth wings that bled into his surroundings. He can easily catch you off guard, often diving silently, so watch out. He can be spotted around a light source, knowing folks feel safer under the beam. Though hard to see, you can usually tell it's him by his beady eyes that seem to glow.

Barnaby: Rough fur, cold body, torn scalp... It was like a walking corpse. He roams around wherever he pleases, often being heard by his heavy footsteps or breathing. He smells like rotting flesh, a human heart beating slowly in his chest.

Julie: A girl without eyes, using her flowers to see. They are scattered everywhere, even in places flowers usually wouldn't be. Nowhere is safe from one growing. Keep an eye out, these flowers can capture and hold.

Eddie: He is the most sane looking out of all of them, having a relatively normal appearance, aside from having no mouth. He is known as a “gentle giant”, but he is merely tricking you. He waits for you to get close enough before snatching you and taking you to Home.

Home: An unknown entity who had begun to leak through the house that Wally had once lived in. A being who had fully manifested over many nights, eventually becoming powerful enough to make a few changes.

WANDERERS

Frank: A man who’s spent his time documenting every creature and its mannerisms. Very knowledgeable and is the main guy behind the planning (food, items, escape routes, safe passageways). Lost Eddie.

Sally: The scavenger. She is the leader of the folks tasked with going out for supplies, food, medicine ingredients. She is in charge of keeping everyone in order inside the safety of their camp, as well. Lost Julie.

Wally: The lookout. Wally suffers from insomnia, usually leading him to being the watchful eye during the night, when everyone is asleep. When he does sleep, however, it isn't long before the nightmares come. Usually stays in the camp unless told otherwise. Lost Barnaby.

Y/N: Helps around whenever they can. Can usually be seen by the two leaders or the watch out. Almost fell for Eddie’s gentle lie. Doesn't remember where they came from, but they were found unconscious and brought back to camp.

STORY

Welcome Home was a normal neighborhood, though it was media. The characters were not aware of such information, assuming they were real. One night, behind the set, some kids thought it would be fun to summon a demon. They did not know of the reality of what they saw as puppets. They did not know they had lives in a seemingly other world.

When they did it, it didn't seem like anything happened. But it did. And they were the first victims.

When the demon was summoned, it had appeared in the world of Welcome Home, leaking out of Wally’s Home like tar. It was worrying to the neighborhood, especially to Wally. Home never sounded like it used to, sounding more… unsettling. Over the days, the demon claimed lives in the real world, growing more powerful with each soul. Those kids that had summoned it now serve, possessed, bringing new souls for it to consume.

Once day, it had grown powerful enough to change things, able to feed off of the negative energies. It had waited long enough to change even living creatures. The neighborhood turned into a world of a nightmare. It was always dark, the world seemed to tower over the neighbors.

The souls fed to the demon were used as puppets for the entity, capturing several of the neighbors before they understood what was happening. Only Sally, Frank, and Wally were left, having watched their beloved community change into monsters. The captured were taken to Home, where it painfully changed them into who they were not.

They grew and changed. If you listen closely, some say you can still hear their screams when you look into their eyes.

The survivors, or “wanderers”, built a camp in a place far from Home. It was in a hollow, covered by bushes and fallen leaves. To their confusion, new folks appeared, who had no idea where they had come from. The folks were often found unconscious and brought back to camp.This is Home’s doing. He wanted new toys and didn't want to transform these beings immediately, though this is not the case for all sacrifices from the real world.

[lutethebodies]

Picking this one up from @coolseabird, let's goooo:

Last Song: "All Her Favourite Fruit," the emotional peak of Camper Van Beethoven's epic 1989 alt-folk album Key Lime Pie.

Favorite Color: these days, tied between navy blue and forest green.

Last Book: A re-read of Shōgun, inspired by the recent TV adaptation. Last time I tackled that book was, like, 15 years ago. Love re-reading something after a long time and picking up new stuff I'd missed before.

Last Movie: Probably The Wild Robot. On streaming anyway. In the theater was probably Dune Part 2.

Last Game: Baldur's Gate 3 (because I don't really play any other video games), prepping my Horizon Walker to take on Raphael.

Last Show: Currently slamming "Shetland" and have made it through S5E1.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Usually sweet, but also a heaping helping of savory (i.e. salty).

Relationship: Happily married 18+ years, with 8 years together before that. So, 26+ altogether.

Last Internet Search: "Bob Dylan 1965 Press Conference San Francisco" so I could steal one of his lines for Cannor's banter today.

Current Obsession: Keeping a safe mental distance from our time's ever-growing supermassive black hole of needlessly cruel psychodramas warping brains and eating souls. In other words, I'm indulging in the same old blatant escapism and kinda not sorry.

Looking Forward To: visitng my parents later this month. Some years my family does late-winter catch-ups if we can't get it together for the holidays, and this has been one of those years.

[francis-writes]

Hello! Can I request headcanons of Alex DeLarge with a shy and chubby girlfriend? Can be sfw and/or nsfw. Thank you! <3

Warnings: Alex being Alex

SFW

Alex doesn't care about look that much. I mean, he likes to dress up and he likes pretty things but in general, for him body is a body. He likes women, men, nonbinary folks, skinny, chubby, muscled, tall, short, etc etc

Because of it you may think that you're less special but nah. Alex looked at all the people and he was "i want that one. This cute pie"

There might be problems bc of your different personalities, because while he enjoys once in a while to stay with you at home and watch movies, most of the times Alex tries to pull you out of your shell. Maybe not full ultraviolence and visiting poor citizens but taking you to the bar with his droogies or taking you for a ride

As we're talking about droogies, Alex likes to say dirty comments when you're with them, and he also doesn't keep his hands to himself. And - that actually happens when your not around- you can expect that drogies know secrets of your intimate life.

On a positive side, he makes sure you don't get into EDs or if you're currently fighting one - he supports you and tries to help you get out of it

He likes to get you on dates in town and spoil you rotten (don't ask him how he got the money). Buying you new clothes, taking you to the cinema, theatre, whatever you want, you get it. And some more. Alex may not be the best at emotions, but he covers it playing stereotypical best-boyfriend-ever

Also, his ideas of dating (dating, not one night stands which is a completely different scenario from him) probably comes mostly from old movies so if you want to know how it's like, just picture dating 50s gentleman (with a glimpse of madness behind his eyes)

NSFW

I know it's totally clichè but he wants you to sit on his face and squeeze it with your thighs

He always liked to talk dirty, but it turns him on ever more when he sees you blushing and embarassed

If you are shy in bedroom as well, Alex will probably try to change it. Well, your shyness itself he finds cute, but he will encourage you to try more positions and some of his kinks

In terms of kinks, it would be easier to tell what kink he doesn't have, but it's mostly bdsm, especially bondage, spanking, humiliation and praising (him). connected - cnc. Old habits die hard so he will be even more turned on when you wiggle and scream and try to escape from him