#fallen emily design

[goggles-mcgee]

Replaced: She’s Over You

Newest chapter in the story for @miner249er

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Summary:  Gabriel was eager to open the internship with his company, he looked forward to all the new talent and he especially was looking forward to Miss Dupain-Cheng's application. Except her application never came.

Gabriel Agreste was a man of many talents but like any man he could admit he had his faults. He was a gifted fashion designer but he secretly did not handle criticism well which in his industry, criticism was handed out just as if not more freely as compliments. Which is where his skill of masking his emotions came in so handy, and yet it worked too well as he often had trouble expressing himself if it wasn’t in a design or poetry that he had in a locked journal hidden away in a secured safe in his closet. Gabriel of course took pride in his designs, they were what made him successful, but Gabriel also had the unfathomable talent to sniff out the potential in others. It was how he got such a competent and efficient assistant like Nathalie, a tough and loyal bodyguard and chauffeur like Gerald, dedicated and determined employees and it’s how he had gotten a kind and beautiful wife like Emilie. He had seen her passion for acting, her raw talent in the art and her effortless beauty that would make any model jealous and he had fallen hard. It may seem old school to kids, the thought, but he knew at that moment he had to have her. She was everything he ever wanted.  

And Gabriel Agreste always got what he wanted.

He wasn’t some spoiled child that demanded things, no, he worked hard for his success, his happiness. His parents, Michael and Claire, such ordinary names for ordinary people that expected their son to be exceptional. Who expected their exceptional son to take care of them even after they had denied him so much, after they pushed him so hard. Needless to say there was no love lost between them once he was old enough to move out on his own, he had saved up as much money as he could from his odd jobs and his grandparents had helped however they could, even letting him rent out their attic at a very discounted price. Truthfully they hadn’t even wanted to make him pay but he refused to be charity, he refused pity so he paid. Many thought Gabriel was handed things but no, sometimes he wished that were true but then he wouldn’t be the man he was today if that was so. That was why he made sure Adrien worked hard. He didn’t want his son to turn out to be the person his parents wanted, or the person people had thought him to be. It’s why he made his son a model, besides his son’s obvious natural talent that he got from his mother. He wanted Adrien to learn about hard work.

He liked to believe that Adrien understood all that. The one lesson his son never seemed to catch on to was how to spot potential in others and surround yourself with those people. Gabriel saw this first hand when he met his son’s “best friend” Nino Lahiffe, self-proclaimed DJ who only had “gigs” because his friends hired him. The boy had no potential, even if he did it was such a small amount that it was practically nothing and therefore not of importance. So Gabriel saw no point in being polite to the boy, he was a subpar director from what he had seen when his acquaintance André Bourgeois had come over and showed him the videos from that year's Young Amatuer Director’s Competition. That girl, Alya Césaire, had some potential but she wasted it on the awful Ladyblog. She had a way with words and reporting the facts but Gabriel had akumatized her, had felt her emotions, heard her thoughts, and someone who just jumps into things without fact checking when wanting to be a reporter will not go far. For crying out loud she hasn’t even caught on to Miss Rossi’s lies yet!

Ah, and speaking of Lila Rossi. Gabriel saw great potential in her, potential and mayhem. It was a gamble to work with her both in and out of the mask but it was one he ultimately deemed necessary. Lila was a liar. That was a simple fact, but she was a believable liar. The way she lied about things, it made weak-minded people want to believe her, so they did. Gabriel was not above admitting that it was entertaining to watch her lies at work. They provided entertainment and more akumas than he could count. Though, there was always a flaw in something that promised perfection much like Miss Rossi herself. She had potential, but she wasted it on petty grudges, gaining popularity and overall inflating her ego. It was that ego he had to keep an eye on, she already used her lies to trespass into his home, it was only a matter of time she tried to get away with bigger crimes as Lila thought she was untouchable. The young girl believed she could lie herself out of any situation and that was a liability that Gabriel could not afford. 

She was useful though so he kept her on, she was more useful than Chloé. Chloé Bourgeois, he had had such high hopes for the girl. She came from a good background, her parents were influential, she was the exact kind of friend he expected Adrien to make. Though that was all she had, when she was younger she had had a small talent and eye for fashion, but then she grew into someone who would steal another designer’s work and claim credit. Gabriel had dealt with his fair share of those sorts of people, he fully thought Adrien would try and break off his friendship with the spoiled girl more than the one time he did try, if you could even call that an attempt. Agrestes had to know when to cut their losses, though Adrien didn’t seem to understand that just yet. Gabriel would only let the boy be sentimental for so long. Chloé may have been good at making akumas but none of them were particularly strong. So like most of Adrien’s friends, she was a disappointment. 

He didn’t know enough about that Couffaine girl but he did know she was in that odd little band that Adrien had wanted to join. The music was dreadful but he did appreciate the creative costume designs and he was in no way surprised when he learned that it was Miss Dupain-Cheng who had been the designer. That Lavillant girl also fell into the same space as the Couffaine girl, Gabriel didn’t really see any potential from them and yet they were making a name for themselves. It was an odd thing, he didn’t understand why people liked their music, but not everyone could have his expectations and taste. Like M Kubdel, he was a respected man in his profession and yet he let his children be utterly unexceptional, his daughter believed she had a talent in skating and his son, Gabriel couldn’t recall his name, at least had passion on his side. A little too much though, it was an ugly and pitiful sight. Having passion was well and good but it didn’t need to be on full display, he was glad he taught Adrien not to show too much emotion. 

There were other classmates and friends Adrien had but they hardly deserved to be remembered by Gabriel, though Max Kante and Nathaniel Kurtzburg had great potential, both were held back by emotion and those they called friends. If they didn’t cut their losses they wouldn’t amount to anything Gabriel was sure. Besides, the Kurtzburg boy would fall and fail fast if he continued to just write comics about that blasted Ladybug. At least Max Kante made an AI capable of emotion! But the boy wasted it on “friendship.” It was so utterly disappointing, they were all so disappointing. Except, there was one diamond in the rough. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She had the passion, the drive, the determination, and above all, she had the potential. She was wasted on those she and Adrien called classmates, and though Gabriel did loathe her overly optimistic personality, he knew that it would be dampened by real work experience. 

Talent nurtured talent as they say, and Gabriel was prepared to do that. Marinette was talented and young and Gabriel knew if he didn’t get her working for his company as soon as he could, his competitors would snatch her away. Or worse, she would eventually turn into another competitor. Gabriel was confident in his designs but even he knew she would be tough to go against. That’s why he decided they were never going to compete, he would get her working in his company and there she would stay happily. He was sure if he offered her a couple raises and some mild promotions that she would be happy to stay whenever she thought she was ready to leave. It sounded backhanded and frankly in bad taste but that was simply business. Besides a high stake and high anxiety environment like a fashion company would be a beautiful place for an akuma to be birthed and besides her potential to be great in fashion, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had the great potential to be a truly spectacular akuma.

When he had tried to akumatize her before, he had felt her anger, her sadness, her pain. All of it was so raw, so powerful, it had him staggering every time he felt it, he needed that power to win, he knew it. Though aside from her potential of being his most powerful akuma ever, Miss Dupain-Cheng had tremendous ideas when it came to fashion and overall just creative projects. She designed for Clara Nightingale and Jagged Stone for crying out loud and she was still in collège! Gabriel himself won some small amateur design competitions when he was that young but he had never gotten commissioned by celebrities. He wasn’t jealous, he was impressed. She was already building a client list with very important, influential people. She impressed Audrey Bourgeois, the most difficult person to get a compliment from, and Gabriel would know. Despite them being “friends,” Audrey held nothing back when his designs displeased her and that had been often lately. 

That, and many other things, was the reason why Gabriel was even opening up an internship with his brand. They got tons of applications, Nathalie kept him updated from what she saw in the records, and yet Miss Dupain-Cheng had not applied. It baffled him. By all accounts she should have been one of the first to hand in her application, he knew first hand that she was a fan of his and he knew she was smart. She would know this would be a big opportunity for her and her future career. So really it made no sense for her application to be missing when they were so close to the application deadline. It got to him. It had him pacing his office more often than he would like to admit, he felt like some online shopper that made their purchase and eagerly awaited the delivery truck, checking for the package every hour despite knowing the thing they are waiting for hasn’t even shipped yet. 

He wasn’t eager, no, Gabriel was frustrated. So frustrated in fact that he had called Adrien into his office and told him to ask Miss Dupain-Cheng to their house as Gabriel wanted to discuss business with her. He did not fail to notice the hope and eagerness that lit his son’s eyes, nor the hesitation that crashed into the boy. But Gabriel had no time for whatever teenage drama Adrien was dealing with and he made it known that Adrien was to do said task as soon as possible. Thankfully whatever Adrien had said to the girl worked and she had set up an appointment with Nathalie for the next day. Gabriel had his office cleaned, artfully placed some designs he himself was working on and those he had to approve from his team. The final thing he did was have Nathalie print out the applications and made sure to place them on his desk where Miss Dupain-Cheng would no doubt notice them while they spoke.

So here Gabriel was awaiting the teen as he sat at his desk and did his best to look busy and uninterested. He was very good at looking uninterested, though that was more because he was never really interested in anything much since Emilie’s “disappearance”. She had brought this spark to his life like nothing else had and then the Peacock Miraculous happened and Gabriel regretted nothing more than giving that damned brooch to her. At the time he had thought it to be the perfect gift, Emilie had always had some weird fascination with the creatures and had many clothing pieces that had some kind of peacock motif on them. Gabriel shook his head to clear his thoughts, now was not the time to think of his wife, that would get him nowhere in this interview. 

A knock on his door helped fully pull him from his thoughts, “Gabriel, Miss Dupain-Cheng is here to see you.”

“Thank you Nathalie.” Gabriel said as his way of giving permission to enter his office. He watched as Miss Dupain-Cheng walked in, immediately he assessed the outfit she arrived in, what you wore was always important when meeting those you wished to impress or work with/for. 

The outfit wasn’t what he expected but it was certainly well made, though it wasn’t something he would have expected of the young girl. She wore high-waisted bell bottoms, the flares at the bottom looked to  have slight slashes in them but when she took a step he could see pale pink plaid stitched into the sides of the pants. A fold in the side of the pants hid the design until she walked, it grabbed your attention, it was brilliant. She wore a loose satin button up that was tucked into the bell bottoms, it was white with the flowers she always seemed to have in her designs embroidered on the right breast pocket. The buttons of the button-up were undone so he could see a black top underneath that had lace trim at the top edges, it seemed to be a tank top. Her black earrings tied the look together, as did the simple black music note choker necklace she wore. Her hair was done half-up, half-down with the up part fashioned into some kind of braid that he could see peeking from the top of her head. The biggest surprise was seeing the underside of her hair dyed pink, but it complimented her in a way he couldn’t hate on.

“Monsieur Agreste, it is nice to see you.” The young girl said with a small smile as she walked to his desk and held a hand out for a handshake. 

Gabriel abhorred physical touch so he merely nodded, he may want her to work for him but there was no need to inflate her ego. Though Miss Dupain-Cheng hadn’t even seemed hurt by the rejected handshake and that won her more of his approval. “Agreed Miss Dupain-Cheng. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.” 

Once they both took their seats, Miss Dupain-Cheng gave him another smile, though this one was more tight than the one before. “I will admit Monsieur Agreste, I was more than a little confused when Adrien told me you wanted to speak with me.”

“I will get straight to the point Miss Dupain-Cheng, I was surprised when I did not see your name among the applicants for the internship with Gabriel. Forgive me if this is overstepping but, this seemed like something you would be interested in and I have to admit I did expect to see your name among the others. Adrien told me you were a fan.” Maybe he laid the charm on a bit thick but he was curious and he had the opportunity to get answers. 

“Oh he did?” Miss Dupain-Cheng said, yes it was phrased as a question but Gabriel had a feeling it really wasn’t one. “Well since you were so honest with me, I will be honest with you Monsieur Agreste.”

“I did see you had opened your business up for an internship, and maybe once upon a time I would have been interested. Over the moon in fact, but to be frank I had no interest, have no interest and that’s why I never applied.” She stated like she hadn’t just thrown Gabriel for a damn loop and all with a sweet smile on her face.

“I’m…I’m sorry?”

“I mean no offense Sir,” that felt like a damn lie, “I had considered a career in fashion, working in a brand I mean, maybe even starting one myself but I moved on from that.”

Gabriel had to physically stop his jaw from dropping, all he could do was utter out, once again, “I’m sorry?”

“I thought I would be able to handle that kind of environment, and maybe in the future I’ll get back into it like I once was but yeah…I have to admit, fashion is no longer my number one passion. Don’t get me wrong, I still love it, still do it, but I don’t think it’s my future anymore.” Miss Dupain-Cheng admitted like she hadn't destroyed every single one of Gabriel’s plans for when she joined the company. Like she hadn’t just broken all his expectations in the worst way. 

“I…I have to say Miss Dupain-Cheng you have surprised me. This was not what I had expected.”

“I’m sorry.” The worst part is he believed her.

“Can I ask why? Why you are no longer interested.” Gabriel clarified after he asked. He wanted answers. Why didn’t Adrien warn him?

At first Gabriel was afraid she wouldn’t answer, she just sat there with her lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed but finally she took a deep breath in and looked Gabriel straight in the eyes. “You’ve been nothing but polite Monsieur Agreste, and you checked in with me and I feel like I at least owe you this. To put it simply, I wanted to be happy. And if I stayed the way I was that would never have been possible. Fashion is an incredible thing, but it is also a highly competitive field that is as stressful as it is rewarding if you find the right place. I thought about it, more than anybody will ever know, but I thought and it’s not the right place for me. Not anymore. I had drive. I had passion. But the thing is, people see that and cling to it, and sooner rather than later you get burnt out.”

“I burnt out and it was the worst feeling in the world. It nearly akumatized me. There were people in my life, people who used me, maybe they did view me as a friend once but it stopped feeling like that when they asked me to make them things last minute, or say they were going to pay me but it wouldn’t be till later but they promised, or just downright expected to get things from me. The messed up part is I did it all. I wanted their friendship, I wanted their praise, I tricked myself into thinking they were giving me inspiration every time they asked for things, I thought their compliments were genuine with no double meaning and I let that drive me.” Gabriel could do nothing but listen in horror, what had happened to her? He had wanted her to become akumatized yes, but not at the cost of her potential. 

“It became stressful, so stressful and the more it continued, the more I realized that that’s how the fashion industry is. No one is satisfied with one thing from you. They demand more things, better things. And I used to be able to rise to that challenge but I can’t anymore Monsieur Agreste. And it’s not just the demands and the stress and the challenges, I like being challenges, it’s the people. I thought I could handle the people.” Miss Dupain-Cheng chuckled roughly and shook her head.

“And as much as I want to sit here and say the only reason I passed up on the internship was because I don’t think I’m up to putting myself in the environment, I owe it to myself to be honest and I owe it to you since you were once my mentor whether you knew it or not. I used to buy your catalogs and whatever magazines you were featured in with whatever money I could save up.  I passed not only because of the environment but because of your employees.”

There was no shame in her words, he could feel no anger despite them either. There was no heart-clenching sadness either, not like he expected, there was sadness but it was dim, like the leftover taste of a too-small piece of bittersweet chocolate. “My employees?”

“Yes. Lila Rossi and your son. I don’t know if you are aware or not Monsieur, but Lila is a liar. You may not believe me and frankly I don’t care if you do or not, but it’s the truth. She lies to be the center of attention and she lies to make others look bad and I am not so disillusioned that I will sit here and believe she is the only model capable of that level of self-centeredness. I would rather pull my hair out strand by strand than subject myself to that all for the sake of fashion. And your son used to be a friend. A good one. But he knows she is a liar and did nothing and I deserve better than that and I got better. A healthy workplace environment does not mean letting someone walk all over your employees and it also means your workers feel safe enough to bring their worries of such things forward which is something I don’t believe happens at Gabriel considering who you have representing your brand.” It was as though she was trying to offend him, Gabriel felt like he should be fuming and distantly he knew he would be later but all he could feel was a pit in his stomach growing bigger and bigger with every word.

“So thank you for thinking of me, but I will not be handing in an application now or for the foreseeable future. I have a new mentor, and I’m really happy where I am now but I thank you for the opportunity.” With that Miss Dupain-Cheng stood and gave Gabriel a wave before leaving him to sit there like a fool. 

It would be an hour before everything hit him and he stood up in a rage, practically throwing his chair in the process. He vaguely recalled yelling at Nathalie to tell Adrien to come to his office. He was pacing when his son finally arrived and Gabriel had to take deep breaths to calm himself. “I don’t know what you and that class of fools did but you will fix this. I don’t care how but you will make Marinette Dupain-Cheng change her mind.”

“What? She…She didn’t apply?” Adrien gaped unattractively.

Gabriel sneered. “Of course she didn’t, would we be having this conversation if she did? Miss Dupain-Cheng has great potential in this field and I will not have her waste it because of silly teenage drama. So again, I don’t care how you do it, but you will convince her to take the internship.”

“Yes Father.”

“Good. Now leave me.” Gabriel felt like he had more pacing to do.

Next Chapter

[sequinsmile-x]

By Design

It still surprised her when she thought about how easily they had fallen into a relationship. 

A Young Hotchniss fic.

-x-

This is a birthday present for my dear, dear friend @prentissinred. I love you very much and am so pleased our favourite idiots in love brought us together. Thank you for being you <3

I know you love Young Hotchniss, so I hope you enjoy this!

-x-

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She’d been intrigued by him the moment he arrived on his first day at work.

Emily was home for the summer between her undergrad and her masters, preparing to go Yale for a year whilst she figured out what to do with her life. She spent the early days of her break avoiding her mother, something she had become quite skilled at over the years.

On Aaron Hotchner’s first day, she’d, quite literally, walked into him. Her coffee had spilt all over his white shirt, her vicious hangover enough to dull her usual quick reflexes. He’d been good-natured about it, despite his obvious irritation, and from there a friendship between the two of them had formed. In the weeks that followed he’d snuck her past her mother more than once, never judging her for being drunk, or asking where she was getting served since she was still underage. 

She found him fascinating, something about how serious he was enough to draw her in. He was handsome, his jaw and nose all made of sharp edges, contradictory to his soft eyes and smile that she could pull out of him even at the most inopportune of moments. 

She flirts with him all the time, and he flirts back when it’s just the two of them. A sparkle in his eyes that makes her chest feel full of emotions she doesn’t want to name. She overhears him telling one of the other security personnel that he’s newly single, that his long-term girlfriend had broken up with him just before he took this job, and any thoughts she may have previously had about not going any further than harmless flirting disappear. 

She watches him from across the ballroom. She’s at the back of the room, leaning against a wall and hoping she doesn’t get seen. Her mother had forced her to come, insisting that she mingles with people she doesn’t like. Instead, Emily watches Aaron from across the room. 

He looks good in his suit, just like he always did. He commanded the team he was part of, despite not being the leader, a natural authoritative air about him that meant people listened to him. His eyes meet hers across the room and she winks at him, something that makes him shake his head at her. She finishes her drink and pushes herself off the wall, crossing the room to speak to him.

“Agent Hotchner,” she says as she approaches him, her smile wide and eyes sparkling. 

He smiles at her, clearly trying to hide it and failing, the dimples she finds herself itching to press her thumbs into carved deep into his cheeks. 

“Miss Prentiss.” 

She pretends to act wounded, her hand over her heart, “Miss Prentiss,” she exclaims, “so formal.”

Aaron shakes his head at her, his eyes flicking around the room to keep an eye on his colleagues. 

“I am here in a formal capacity.” 

She can’t explain her need to spend time with him, the almost primal desire to dig beneath his serious exterior. To mess up his hair and crease his always perfectly ironed clothes. It feels like the last several weeks have been leading up to this moment between them, and she doesn’t want it to pass them by. An idea forms in her head and before she can talk herself out of it she’s already talking. 

“Well, that’s good,” she replies, leaning in closer, “because I need you in a formal capacity.” 

He turns serious immediately. His brows creasing in a way she knows will one day form frown lines around his eyes. The mere thought of it, the way she wants to see it, to still know him in years to come makes her stomach flip. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, his confusion clear. 

She tilts her head backwards, indicating a man standing several feet behind her. A man she doesn’t know, a random guest of her mother’s. 

“See that guy?” she says, watching how he looks past her, his eyes narrowing as he spots the man in question before he looks back at her and nods. 

“You know him?” 

She doesn’t correct him but doesn’t confirm it either. Shrugging slightly, her breath catching in her throat as he shifts closer as if he was ready to protect her from anything. 

Aaron doesn’t move for a moment, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and the man before he nods again. He reaches out for her, his hand at her back as he leads her out of the room, the heat of his palm less than an inch from her skin. He talks into his microphone, letting the rest of the team know he is with her. 

Later that night, when she leans in to kiss him and he enthusiastically responds, she can’t find it in herself to feel bad for the lie by omission that had led them there. 

____

18 Months Later 

“Hi, sweetheart” Aaron calls out as he walks into their home. He makes sure that the door is locked behind him before he turns to look back at the open-plan apartment, frowning when he can’t see his girlfriend anywhere. “Em?”

“I’m here,” she replies, sitting up from where she’d been laying on the couch, a tired smile on her face as she looks at him. Aaron laughs and walks over, abandoning his briefcase on the kitchen counter on his way. He leans over the couch and kisses her before he rounds it to join her. He smiles at the sight of newspapers spread all over the coffee table. 

“Apartment hunting going well?” 

“Don’t laugh at me,” she grumbles, immediately leaning against him as he sits next to her, both of her arms wrapping around one of his, her hands grasping at his tricep, “It sucks.” 

He kisses her forehead, smiling against her skin, “I know it sucks. Why do you think I settled for this place?” He asks, pulling back to look at her, “It was the first one I saw that was affordable and not in a completely terrible area.” 

Emily smiles up at him, cupping his cheek to pull him in for a kiss, her thumb pressing into his dimple. 

“It would be easier if you weren’t insistent on splitting rent down the middle,” she says, only pulling far enough away to speak, stamping another kiss to his lips, “I can afford more.” 

Aaron sighs, shifting slightly back from her. It was a conversation they’d had countless times since they’d decided it was time to move. His apartment had served him well in the couple of years he’d lived there, but it felt like the right time to move. He wanted something slightly bigger, and in the few months Emily had been officially living with him it had become clear the apartment wasn’t quite big enough for two people. Which felt ironic when he considered that his initial plan had been to live here with Haley. 

“Em-”

“I know, I know,” she says, smiling softly, not wanting it to turn into an argument again, “We do everything equally.”

“Except for the cooking,” he quips, and she scoffs, pinching lightly at his skin as he laughs again. 

“I think we both know it’s safer that I don’t cook,” she replies, laying her head on his shoulder, “And I do the cleaning.” 

It still surprised her when she thought about how easily they had fallen into a relationship. 

At the start, she’d tried to convince herself it was just sex, that it was all it ever could be, but it had quickly developed into more. For the first time in a long time, someone cared about getting to know her. Aaron remembered every tiny thing he learnt about her. As if he was collecting facts, storing them away for a day when he’d need them. She felt the same pull to learn everything about him too. Content to lay in his arms, their naked skin pressed against each other, as he told her stories from his childhood. That summer had gone so quickly that it almost gave her whiplash. She’d prepared herself for a goodbye that never came, finding herself feeling nothing but relieved when he said he wanted to try something more long-term with her. That the fact he was about to start a new work placement and that she was about to go to Yale, didn’t concern him if it didn’t concern her. 

So they’d made it work. 

She visited him in DC whenever she could, never telling her mother that she was in town so she could spend every second with Aaron. He’d visit her in New Haven. Her tall, slightly mysterious, FBI boyfriend an interesting talking point to any of her friends that they’d bump into on the rare occasion they left her apartment. Throwing clothes on so they could go get food, his arms wrapped around her from behind as they stood in the grocery store trying to find the cheapest bottle of wine. 

He made her happy, and she knew she did the same for him. Moving into his place when she graduated from Yale seemed like the only real option, the only thing she truly considered. Her mother had been less than impressed when she found out about them, although when she looked back on it, letting her find out when Aaron showed up at graduation might not have been the best plan. 

“Anything standing out to you?” He asks, looking over at the pile of newspapers. She groans and presses her forehead into his shoulder.

“The only thing that stands out to me is that rent is extortionate for what you get in this city.” 

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “I’d live in a dumpster with you.”

“I thought we were already doing that here,” she deadpans, laughing and squirming away when he tickles her in retribution for her joke. She had never truly liked the apartment they lived in, but it had him in it, so because of that it felt like home. She smiles up at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, “I’d live in a dumpster with you too,” she replies, kissing his jaw, “And at this rate, that’s what we might literally end up doing,” she picks up a paper and passes it to him, grimacing as she does, “Look at the price of that. For a studio. It’s absurd.” 

Aaron frowns as he looks at the photos of the apartment in question, “It is small,” he replies, smirking at her, “At least we don’t have any secrets, it wouldn’t be possible to keep them in a space like that.” 

She’s grateful that he misses how she freezes, his focus on the paper in his hand giving her the second she needed to gather herself. 

At first, she’d thought nothing of the lie by omission that had led to them being alone that first night. It didn’t cross her mind the next morning when she woke up in her bed, Aaron half on top of her as he slept. It didn’t as she snuck him out of the house, unable to stop herself from kissing him again. She only thinks about it months later when he tells the story of how they got together to a friend of his in front of her, his hand wrapped around hers as he mentions the man at the party that had changed everything in passing. 

She never knew how to bring him up, how to tell him that what he clearly considered a part of their story was a fabrication. They’d sacrificed much for each other. She’d given up a job opportunity. Nothing about Europe seemed appealing without him, so she’d said no without a second thought. 

He’d given up Haley. 

Emily still remembered it happening. It was her first visit back from Yale and they’d been desperate for each other. Tearing at each other's clothes as they barely made it to the couch the first time before they eventually moved to his, now their, bed. Aaron had convinced her they needed food and ordered pizza. She’d slipped on a shirt of his as she heard a knock on the door, opening it without looking through the peephole only to be met by his ex-girlfriend. Time had slowed down as Haley looked her up and down, shock in the blonde’s eyes that turned to misplaced fury.

Emily was sure that would be it, that he’d want Haley back and she would be nothing more than a blip in his story. She’d quickly got dressed as he spoke to Haley in the next room, unable to stop herself from overhearing his ex-girlfriend say that she wanted him back, that she regretted leaving him. Emily still remembered the fear, the bitter pre-emptive heartbreak as the door opened behind her. She expected to turn to see a sympathetic look on his face, an apology that she didn’t want to hear. But instead, he looked confused, his eyebrows knitting together as he asked her why she was packing her things. He’d told Haley it was too late, that he loved her now. 

It was the first time he’d said it. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”

She looks at him and swallows thickly. All of a sudden, even though she’d kept it to herself for a long time, she finds herself desperate to tell him. The words escaping her before she can stop them, overwhelmed by the need to show him this part of herself. Something she had kept hidden since she was young, effortlessly being whoever those around her needed to be. 

Aaron had only ever wanted her to be herself. 

“I have to tell you something.” 

Aaron frowns at her, concern flooding through him, his body freezing with it. She’s looking down at her nails, picking at her cuticles, and he puts his hand over hers to stop her. He links their fingers together and lifts her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. 

“You can tell me anything.” 

She smiles shakily at him and blows out a breath, “You know the party you worked at for my mother?”

“The one that happened the same night that you jumped me?” He asks, smiling at her, his humour an attempt to calm her. “I remember it well.” 

She narrows her eyes at him, briefly forgetting her point, “I seem to remember that you made the first move.” 

“We remember those early days very differently,” he replies, rubbing his thumb over her wrist, a movement they both found comforting, “So the party?” 

Her smile fades as she remembers why she’d started the conversation in the first place. “Yes, the party,” she says, holding his hand tightly, “I implied that there was a man there that I didn’t want to see and…it’s not true,” she says, watching his face for a moment before she carries on, her words speeding up as she does, “I have no idea who he was. I’d never seen him before, or since and I really just wanted to spend time with you-”

“I know,” he says, cutting over her, stopping her in her tracks. 

For a moment, she doesn’t react. Simply staring at him with her mouth still slightly open as his words sink in.

“You…” she drifts off, her eyebrows furrowing as she continues to stare at him. 

“I know you didn’t know that man,” he says, smiling at her, “His name is Jeffery Filburn by the way,” his smile turns into a smirk, “In case you ever wondered.” 

There’s another pause, another moment of silence as she simply blinks at him, lost for words for the first time since they’d met. 

“How long have you known?” She asks, her eyebrows furrowing, confusion turning her to stone, her eyes fixed on his face. He shrugs a little, acting like it was no big deal, like this thing she’d thought was a secret from the start hadn’t been slowly weighing her down.

“Since the day after,” he says nonchalantly, and it snaps her out of it, causing her to gasp in outrage. 

“The day after?” She exclaims, frowning at him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“To be fair, sweetheart,” he says, raising an eyebrow at her, “I don’t think you’re in any position to question me about keeping it a secret.” Her only response is a half-hearted glare, and he puts his arm around her, pulling her into his side. “I thought it was sweet that you wanted to spend time with me. And I wanted to spend time with you.” 

She groans, hiding her face in his chest, “This is so embarrassing,” she complains, “How did you find out?” 

“I looked him up,” Aaron replies simply, “I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I hadn’t.” 

“And you don’t mind?” She asks, lifting her head just enough to look at him, scrunching her nose up slightly, “You’re not mad?” 

Aaron shakes his head, reaching out and tucking some of her hair behind her ear. He’s gentle with her, just like he always had been, treating her like she’s made of something precious. He leans in to kiss her, pressing his love into her skin. Her cheek. Her nose. Her lips. 

“I’m not mad,” he assures her, “As long as you’re not.” 

“I’m not mad,” she says, smiling up at him, ignoring the embarrassed flush to her cheeks, the way her skin burned with it, “But maybe we just promise not to keep anything from each other from now on. No matter how…silly or small it might seem.” 

He kisses her again, “Agreed,” he says, winking at her, pleased when it makes her roll her eyes at him, the last bit of seriousness in the air dissipating. 

He looks at her, focusing on the beauty that had first drawn him to her, something he had quickly learned was much more than skin deep. She’d changed his life, made him happier than he remembered being in a long time, bringing out a part of him that he thought had been torn from him in his childhood. Anger and fear replaced by the love and joy she had brought him. He could never be mad about it. Not for a second. 

Even if it had started with a situation she’d created. Something she’d curated. Designed with the same care she’d always shown him. The care he hoped he’d be able to bask in forever. 

“I love you,” he says, his hand on her cheek, tracing her soft skin.  

She beams at him, “I love you too.” 

-x-

I'm sure the swifties have realised this was inspired by Mastermind ❤️

-x-

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[artxyra]

Desperate Shipping Calls for Desperate Measures

Pretending to like Adrien may have been the worst decision of her life.

—–

It started when their mothers, Sabine Cheng and Emilie Graham de Vanily, met when they attended university. They were roommates and best friends. They did everything together, from studying to going out to parties. It was all that mattered between the two. That was until they fell in love.

Sabine began dating the baker’s son, while Emilie found interest in a business mogul whose focus is fashion. The two couples slowly began doing everything together. Double dates were a common thing.

After graduation, the two couple went their separate ways. Gabriel went on to start his own fashion company while Emilie focused on her acting career. Tom and Sabine took their in-home bakery and turned it into a storefront. Yet, they still managed to make time for group events.

Everything was perfect for their little group until their businesses grew on international levels.

Sabine and Tom jumped to stardom after participating in a baking contest in England and joined other celebrities in the food industries, specifically the pastries.

The people loved when Emilie was on the big screen or stage, as Gabriel expanded on his fashion company, Gabriel Designs, despite its rocky startup.

Soon the family of twos welcomes their new members: Adrien and Marinette. Adrien was born several months before Marinette. Both heirs were smiling and babbling babies, filling the households with laughter and joy.

Growing up, the two would spend the day at each other’s homes when their parents were on business trips. They grew to see each other as brother and sister. Marinette had asked her parents about going to her big brother’s house, and when asked who was she talking about, with the brightest of smiles, she said Adrien. Sabine and Emilie cried together when they realized that their children had taken to calling each other siblings.

When Adrien and Marinette were five, their parents received an invitation to a Wayne Gala event in Gotham, New Jersey. It was their first time going to the United States.

Despite being strictly business, Sabine and Tom quickly became friends with a Mr. Bruce Wayne. Though to Marinette, it was an opportunity to gain new siblings. Dickie and Tim Tam slowly became frequently used names in her vocabulary. Sadly, Adrien felt jealous of the two and entered a competition regarding Marinette’s favorite brother.

All was fine until Mari met the latest addition to the Wayne family when she was close to ten. Damian Wayne.

He wasn’t like the others, and she had met plenty of the adopted and non-adopted Waynes over the years. He was rude, always looking like he was out to get the world. His posture was always tense, almost like nobility. However, what Damian never expected was her determination.  

She had the utmost pleasure in breaking through to the older boy. Her challenge every time she visited was to get him to laugh. She didn’t exceed.

When Adrien met the young Wayne, he screamed and hid behind Marinette, who (at the time) was taller than the two boys. Adrien hugged Mr. Kitten, his stuffed black cat, like a lifeline until Alfred had called the three kids for lunch. He swears that Damian could see through into his soul. Marinette believes that Adrien’s reaction was from Damian unknowingly placing his dominance.

Reaching their pre-teen and early teen years, Damian took a liking to Marinette and had developed a crush on her. His older siblings found it hilarious when they caught the apathetic teen lightly blushing at any mention of the Parisian girl. So, of course, they had a ball in making it their job to embarrass their young brother.

Unfortunately, a family loss disrupted the Agreste household. Emilie had fallen ill and suddenly disappeared from the face of the earth. Gabriel didn’t know how to deal with the loss.

So to prevent endangering his son’s lifestyle, he ended up giving the Dupain-Cheng household temporary custody of Adrien until he figured out his next move. However, the custody move didn’t sit well with members of Emilie’s family, despite being the best move for Adrien.

After the custody transition, that was the last time anyone had seen Gabriel Agreste in public. Thankfully, Adrien had plenty of surrogate siblings and family to help him through the loss of his mother, but he also ended up losing his father in the process.

Months before Adrien and Marinette entered 8th grade, Damian has worked up the courage to ask Marinette out on a date. His actions surprised everyone, as they thought he would have waited until they were in high school (lycée).

Once the shock wears off, Marinette smiles, wrapping her arms around the taller boy’s neck. Her boys had grown to be taller, even if it was by a couple of centimeters. Everyone around them suspects that they’ll be at least 5’8” to 6’2” while Marinette would grow to be Sabine’s height at best. Not that they would mention that in front of Marinette. The little lady has a unique way of turning her sweet words into threats.

Despite their ages, the media went wild, sending the couple celebratory announcements online the second a reporter reportedly leaked an intimated image to the press. No, it wasn’t something sexual; it was a photo taken out of context. Which, surprisingly, was photographed a week before Damian and Marinette made it official. The couple’s parents promise their kids a normal relationship thinking nothing of the media interference.

It was all fine and dandy until the first day of school. Marinette and Adrien received their Miraculous within the hour of each other. But before that, Marinette knew that this would be Adrien’s first time in a public school, so she thought of a harmless prank.

Adrien was to play the oblivious friend, using Chloé as his alibi. Marinette took on the role of the clumsy, babbling, do-gooder friend. It was supposed to be for laughs and last at best until the spring holiday.

However, not even a day after they started college, Marinette had become friends with the new girl, an aspiring journalist. She’ll quickly soon regret that as what she didn’t count for was Alya’s determination.

———

“I’m fine, Dami,” Marinette says to Damian over video chat. Her attention was nowhere on her computer screen but a mannequin with a work-in-progress outfit. Adrien, in the same room with her, was being no help.

Damian raises an eyebrow. Marinette scowls and states, “I’m serious. They cannot bring me down, especially after this week.”

“She’s lying.” Adrien sings from his position on the chaise. In his hand is a wrapped-up croissant. Marinette turns to the blonde model (he’s taking a bite out of his pastry) and glares at him. Adrien stops eating and stares back at her with a what expression. Marinette rolls her eyes and returns to her project.

“If you ever feel like your sanity is lost, I will gladly put a sword through her if she doesn’t stop.” Marinette turns to Damian with an eyebrow raised. Her lips purse together, she’s thinking.

“I didn’t know you like crazy. At this rate, my sanity will be gone before graduation. And, if you haven’t placed a sword through her, I’m sure Luka would.” Marinette pauses. “Though, not with a sword. Maybe a guitar string.”

“Lulu would rather give up his ability to speak, than lose a guitar string.” Adrien interrupts. Marinette ignores him and begins to stitch together pieces of fabric.

Damian quickly chuckles. The three return to what they were doing, each talking when bored or necessary.  

“Well, your lunch is ending soon, same time tonight, your time?” Marinette states, pulling her focus away from the outfit and onto the clock. On her face is a sad smile hidden by a soft smile on her face.

“Father will understand if I ditch the other half a day.” Adrien obnoxiously coughs in the background. Damian tsk.

“Dames…” Marinette turns to her computer.

Damian smiles fondly at her. The two share a chuckle.  “I’ll go, Angel.” Damian folded. “Are we still on for tomorrow’s date night?”

“I would be crazy if I said it wasn’t.” Marinette waves goodbye to the small screen. The screen goes black, signaling the end of the call.

“So, Maribug, what are we going to do about Alya?” Adrien asks; before Marinette could reply, both of their phones dings. Adrien looks down and sees the call-id, “It’s Nino; he’s asking if I want to hang out with him and Alya tomorrow.”

Marinette sighs and sends a quick reply. She doesn’t look up from her phone when she responds. “Alya texted me about wanting to hang out with her rather than Nino.”

A beat passed, and realization set in their minds.

Together they state, “She’s setting us up again.” Groans follow through.

—–

Two weeks of planning all come down to this.

It had to work; there was no way that it wouldn’t. Alya Cesaire, the Ladyblogger, was determined to make her favorite ship, Adrienette, a reality before the end of the school year, which was coming up fast. Ever since they met in college, Marinette, not once, managed to work up the confidence to ask out the blonde model.

And what kind of friend is she for not helping her best friend get the guy? A bad one. Considering this is why she is staging her latest plan for Operation Adrienette at the Place des Vosges.

Almost everyone –that was once a part of the akuma class– sits on the green pasture, waiting for information. Alya, however, stands on a makeshift podium front and center with Lila by her side. She points to the easel with a large poster board.

“Here’s the plan. We all know that graduation is coming up soon, and I tend to make it my legacy to ensure that Adrienette becomes a reality. I have done too much for it not to happen. They have ditched us for the last time, and I planned to end that this week.” Alya states, pretending to be heartbroken. She places her hand over her heart and shakes her head. Lila awkwardly pats on Alya’s back. She stops when Alya continues to talk.

Lila couldn’t help but notice that Chloé and Juleka were missing from the meeting, and she was 90% sure that it wasn’t by design.

When she came into their class, she didn’t want Adrienette to happen. Adrien was her best bet to gain attraction due to his connection to Gabriel Designs. She, of course, tried everything within her power to make Marinette look bad, but when she tried to get Marinette expelled from college, she found out there was more to the story than a simple crush.  

Adrien came up to her during their photoshoot and practically threatened her. The message was clear: stop messing with his sister or else. She got the picture well after that encounter. Since that encounter, she made a deal with the duo, learning that there was no romantic attraction between them– just mischief.

The reason for Lila being at the park is mainly for Alya’s sake. She could care less about the plan and would have preferred a spa day with her mother. That and the rest of them are still her puppets, so she must continue playing the supportive friend.

Alya mutters something under her breath before stating, “I’m still salty about the last plan.” That statement piques the interest of her audience.

“They were supposed to have a romantic time at the ice rink, and nothing came of it. All they did was skate around the rink for a couple of hours. The most they did as a couple was drinking hot chocolate. Drinking hot, mother-freaking, chocolate. The closest intimacy I saw was a kiss on the cheek.” Alya pauses, trying to recollect herself.

“This time– I’m planning a romantic dinner where Nino and I would ditch the two for another booth. That way they are forced to interact with each other.”

“What are we, we meaning you, going to do if that backfires?” Rose raised her hand, inputting her concerns.

“I– uh– we don’t expect it to.” Alya confidently states, slapping her presentation stick in her hand.

It was a Friday night– aka the very next day– when the plan commenced.

Adrien had agreed to meet up with Nino and Alya for whatever they had planned. He ended up dressing up at the request of Alya, as she was blowing up his phone under Nino’s contact name. Not that he minds, but after the third text, it was annoying.

When he appeared at the restaurant, Adrien had a look of disinterest. To which Alya ignores downgrading it to nerves.

Alya hangs off of Nino’s arms, smiling at the model. It was creeping him out, but Adrien didn’t want to seem rude, so he smiled back.

“Why are we so dressy? If this was meant to be a simple outing with friends?” He asks even though he knew the answer already.

“We’re waiting for Marinette. She’d promised me that she’ll be here in a moment.” Alya deflects the question, “Might I say, Adrikins, you look nice in that suit of yours.” She looks elsewhere, no doubt to find Marinette. “Ah, there she is. Marinette!” She waves down Marinette, who looks irritated more than anything.

Marinette walks over to the group.

Adrien gasps, causing Alya to smile smugly at Nino. Her plan is working. Nino continues to watch the two in wonder.

Adrien’s gasps were at what Marinette was wearing. She’s wearing a v-necked checkered red and black patterned T-shirt dress with Gotham’s vigilante Robin’s icon in the upper right corner and thick heel ankle boots.

“Hey gurl, glad you can join us.” Alya pulls away from Nino, giving the poor teen his arm back. Nino then formally greets Adrien with a side-bro hug and an awkward smile.

“It’s not like I had a choice, Alya,” Marinette murmurs, but Alya heard it anyway. The blogger pulls her best friend closer.

“Of course, you did. Look you’re already here, and let’s go get to our seats.” Alya pushes Marinette towards the door and gestures for Adrien and Nino to follow.

However, before the two reach the door, Alya whispers, “Now’s your chance. Go get your man, gurl.” To which Marinette stutters out of embarrassment.

Before they were seated, Marinette noticed the two-seat table. Like that didn’t raise any red flags about this evening. In all honesty, she thought it was a double date–one table and the four of them hanging out. Then again, she should have known better.

There were only two chairs. Alya pushes for Marinette and Adrien that take that table. All this despite their outcries. She and Nino grab another table on the opposite side of the restaurant.

From where Alya sat, Marinette and Adrien both looked very comfortable. That’s a great sign. When the waiter came over, that’s where everything slowly began to fall apart.

The waiter asked the brother-sister duo if they needed anything. Marinette asks for water, and Adrien states that he’s just a stand-in. The waiter didn’t question it and walked away to get Marinette’s drink.

Alya and Nino had ordered their meals, but Adrienette had not. Marinette’s calmly sipping her water all while making conversation with Adrien. Alya was slowly getting fed up with the lack of couple-ly actions between the two. She would have stalked over there had Nino not been holding her back.

At the peak of Alya’s frustration, it all came crashing down. A tall, tan, sleek dark-haired gentleman suddenly walks over to the table. He coughs into his fist. Adrien immediately gives up his seat, but instead, Marinette gets out of her seat to hug the man. Adrien smiles at the two.

Alya sits at her table flabbergasted. Marinette had the audacity to kiss the unknown male on the lips before wishing Adrien out.

Adrien had the nerve to turn to Alya, smirking. He winks at her before walking towards the entrance and out of the restaurant.

Marinette and the male happily held hands across the table and chatted. When the waiter returned a couple of minutes later, Marinette placed her order. The waiter wasn’t surprised to see the new face.

Alya watches as the couple happily eats, seething. Anger could not describe what she was feeling. Who was this guy, and how dare he hijack a date she’d been planning for weeks? Weeks! When Nino finally gave his okay, it was after Marinette and her mystery date had left the restaurant. He will never admit that his reasoning was because the guy screams dangerous. Alya wanted to scream and shout. Scream to the heavens to let out all the anguish she was suffering from Adrienette and scream at Marinette for daring to bring another guy in while she has a crush on Adrien.

She must break them up. Consequences be damned.

—–

Alya didn’t see Marinette or Adrien for the rest of the weekend. It was not because she was busy, no. But because when she tried to reach them, they ignored her. The Ladyblogger visited the patisserie only to discover that Marinette was not home. Where was she? It’s not like Marinette to go off the grid.

Alya was a crazy mess when she returned to the classroom that following Monday morning. She was surrounded by her very curious classmates wondering how the date went. Is Adrienette finally a couple? How did the date go? The pressuring amount of questions nearly caused Alya to have another breakdown.

Keeping her cool, to which Alya did a fantastic job. Or that was until she was just about to answer the questions when Marinette and Adrien walked through the doors. All coolness goes out the window.

“You, how could you? Do you have any idea what I had to go through to get you that date?” Alya shouts at the designer as if it;’s her fault for all her problems. She would have gotten into her face if it wasn’t for Lila holding her back.

Marinette raises an eyebrow; she quickly turns to Adrien, who shrugs and sits beside Nino.

“Well?” Marinette turns to Alya, who couldn’t get a read on the designer.

Marinette squares up to her former friend; sighing, Marinette shakes her head.

“I didn’t ask to be set up with Adrien, Alya. Nor did I have ever had a crush on him. At first, it was hilarious, but now… it’s impacting both our love life.” Marinette explains before taking her seat in the back.

“Love life? Marinette, you are destined to be with Adrien. Have been since the two of you first met in this classroom several years ago.” Alya screeches, but her cries go unheard by the two siblings.

“Maybe you should cool it, Alya. Class is about to start.” Lila states, tugging on her friend’s arm. Alya looks at the clock on the wall and scowls, cursing the bell.

The teacher walks in and demands the class to sit down. Alya turns to Marinette and mouths, “This is not over,” to which Marinette shrugs and absently sketches in her notebook.

Alya couldn’t get a one-on-one conversation with Marinette at the school. She, of course, is infuriated. So, she planned for another meeting in the Place des Vosges that following weekend. However, this time on her way to the park, she saw something she didn’t want to see.

Andre’s ice cream cart was in the area, and Marinette just so happens to be walking hand in hand with the same male from the failed date attempt. They were looking all lovey-dovey and stuff. What was worse was the ice cream flavors (colors). It practically matched Adrien’s from when they last had Andre’s ice cream as a group. Alya growls, her face turning red from the heat of her anger. That’s it; the gloves are on now.

“I have called you all here because it has come to my attention that all my hard work is going unnoticed. Marinette has had the audacity to be around another man knowing that Adrien is her forever. That ends today.” Alya states, standing in front of the remaining members of team Adrienette, practically the majority of her classmates. They whisper amongst themselves, unsure how to answer the reporter.  

Alya nods, knowing her plan is working, “Our job for the next couple of days is to take incriminated photos of Marinette. I need to gather as much evidence to break up our gurl and this supposed boyfriend of hers.”

There is a pause. The silent question for suggestions lingers amongst them.

“Oh, I’ve seen Marinette with these two men lately outside of school. I think there’s something going on between them. You don’t think she’s going something scandalous, do you?”  Lila lies through her teeth, but who was she to turn down a good opportunity for drama. Sure, she already knows the truth, but Alya didn’t know that.

“Someone that isn’t this suppose boyfriend of hers?” Alya pushes with a mischief glint in her eyes.  

Lila nods, still feigning innocents. It’s not like she’s hurting anyone. Though, she might be hurting herself in the long run once Marinette finds out what she did.

“Good. That is excellent news.” Alya clasps her hands.

———

It wasn’t excellent news. It wasn’t at all.

——–

The first attempt was a disaster in the making. Alya didn’t think it through for several reasons. A couple of days after the meeting, she and Nino had noticed that Marinette was spending more time with Marc. They hadn’t seen the boyfriend in a while, which to them was perfect.

Every day, Marinette met up with Marc during lunch. The two consistently talked, though Marinette was sketching something in her sketchbook. And whenever Alya gets near them, Marinette closes her sketchbook and dismisses her.

Since Nathaniel was the closest to Marc, she sent him to take the photos and investigate. Let’s just say the results were not in his favor.

It turns out that Marc was commissioning a scarf with a matching tablet cover for Nathaniel. Their anniversary was coming up. Marc wasn’t happy; he was furious when Nathaniel told him. Marinette was his friend; how dare he try and use him for something so pitiful.

It finally dawned on Alya that everyone in the school knew that Marc and Nathaniel were in an item. And since Marinette is a designer, she works with lots of people regardless of gender, so of course, she would hang around other males.

Realizing that she’ll have to be picky with her choices on ways to make Marinette look like a cheater, she had to dig deep. Luka? She’ll have to save him for the last resort. Alya still remembers the last conversation she and Marinette had over Luka. The latter was head over heels for the musician.  

Alya couldn’t have been more frustrated than she we tried to go through with her second attempt. For a week, Marinette was with her boyfriend and close friends. Weren’t they close friends?

Anyone around Alya could see the invisible tick marks across the reporter’s head.

“Alya? Are you okay?” Her teeth grind together at the question Marinette had asked her during class. It was no secret that her pencil broke into two. She smiles back at Marinette and asks: what her plans are for the weekend. To add salt to her aching mind, Marinette says, she was spending time with Adrien and Luka. Uh– what?

It was a lie.

With her phone in hand and her supporters behind her, Alya followed Marinette throughout Paris. Only to find out that Marinette was not spending any time with Adrien and Luka but with Chloé and Kagami instead. Sure, Marinette was also into girls, and it could have played well into her plan. But Alya feared Kagami putting a blade through her more.

Back to the planning board.

Alya lost count of how many attempts she had gone through before resorting to one of her last options–Luka Couffaine. He was perfect. Well, not perfect, but he and Marinette had chemistry. That has to count for something. Right?

Holding her head high, she approaches the one person she hasn’t seen during their group meetings. When was the last time the two of them spoke? It couldn’t have been that long ago. Could it?

“Hey, Juleka…” Her voice lingers, feigning innocence.  

“No.” Juleka didn’t even face her. Rude.

“C’mon, he’ll agree to do it if you’re the one asking. Please, Jules.”

Juleka huffs, rolling her eyes and placing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’ll see what I can do, but don’t blame me for the outcome. Also, don’t call me Jules.”

Alya smiles cheekily, not realizing the fault in her plan.

The next day, Juleka struts up to her and states, “Yeah…, I forgot to mention that Luka is in a committed relationship. Sorry.”

“What!” The reporter’s voice echoes in the school’s hallways. Her voice alone created an opening in the halls as she ran after Juleka once the shock wore off.

There had to be something better. Bigger. Yeah, something bigger that would break up the couple. It couldn’t be normal– it had to be perfect.

After everything she went through to stage Marinette as a cheater to her so-called boyfriend, Alya finally struck gold.

It was a victory that no one would have expected. That’s because it had happened randomly. On a whim, in fact. Nino had suggested that they go on a stress relief night stroll.

They had caught Marinette in the streets, leaving a building with two unknown men. The two men appeared older and more dangerous (well, one of them at least). The one with a white-streaked in his hair offered Marinette his jacket. She takes it.

Alya had to double-check with Nino to confirm that neither of them had ever seen the two males before in Paris. With a firm nod, the reporter knew she had the perfect story.

Grabbing her phone and opening the camera, she began to work her magic.

Instead of posting the images immediately, Alya followed the three, gathering as much incriminating evidence for her plan to come together.

Too bad her peers didn’t think the same. Anyone familiar with Marinette knew had seen the two males and Marinette from time to time. The two males were regulars at Marinette’s family bakery and have been for years. To them, the gossip from the akuma class meant very little.

Despite having several incriminating footage and photos, Alya favors the video where the three subjects are in the park throwing a frisbee. One of the males came up behind Marinette and spun her around before placing a kiss on her cheek. Marinette giggles, then return the gesture with a kiss on the cheek before grabbing the frisbee out of his hand and tossing it to the other.

Downloading the edited video, Alya knew this would be her masterpiece. She was ready to take on the world. All she needed was the perfect opportunity.  

She didn’t have to wait long.

Alya had caught Marinette and the alleged boyfriend sitting underneath a tree at Place des Vosges. Marinette was sitting between his legs, sketching something down in her sketchbook. The perfect couple’s picture.  

Alya ignores Nino’s disagreeing outcries to races across the street.

Approaching the couple confidently,  Alya states the following, “Your girlfriend here is a cheating bitch.”

Marinette stops sketching and turns to her boyfriend, then back to Alya. She doesn’t say a word, probably cussing out Alya in her head.

Alya freezes. She’s unsure what to think about the lack of emotions showing between the couple.

“What makes you think that of my beloved.” The male asks, raising an eyebrow.

Marinette made no moves to leave her spot, though she does start to pack up her things.

Refinding her confidence, Alya pulls a power move, “I got evidence.”

He didn’t seem convinced.“Pray tell.”

Alya digs into her purse, pulls out her phone, and touches the screen furiously.  

Finding what she was looking for, she held the phone to the boyfriend’s face.

“Do you mind if I–“

“Yes, everything in this fold proves my point.”

He takes his time examining the evidence. Leaving little to no facial expressions.

A minute passed. Then another. Maybe she can win this, and her Adrienette ship will be sailing by the end of the day.

A sigh exits his lips as he pushes the phone into Marinette’s hand. Her eyes widen.

Oh!

Marinette coughs, trying to hide her awkward snickering.

Another pregnant silence. The scrolling continues.  

“So that’s why they were here. I really need to place boundaries on those idiots.” He says thoughtfully.

“Don’t you dare.” Marinette counters, playfully hitting the male’s chest. “I actually enjoy spending time with them.”

Ah, what? Hundreds of questions began to arise within the blogger’s mind.

“Your poor skills in journalism, seemed to caught my Habibti with my idoitic older brothers. Those photos that you have of them are without consent. That video of them has poorly used VFX. I could press charges against you on their behalf.”

“I give credit where it’s due, Alya, this might be your best attempt yet.” Marinette states, standing up to pat the blogger on her back. “Did Lila put you up to this?”

“Wha–?” A squeak exits Alya’s lips.

“If Rossi did, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to cross a Wayne and Agreste.” The dark-haired male mutters.

“Damian…” Marinette sighs, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be too hard on her. Rossi’s just as much as a player in this little game of ours than most.”

“Lila? Game? Player?” Alya was losing every ounce of confidence she had.

“Hey Mars, look who I found.” Adrien hollers from afar.

“Dude…” Nino? How she could have forgotten her boyfriend. Alya scurries over to Nino to be in his arms. Maybe having his presence will save everything.

“Hey Nino, long time no see.” Marinette greets the DJ as Damian grunts sending Adrien a look of acknowledgment.

“What am I, chopped liver?” That voice was too familiar.

Not wanting to add fuel to this trainwreck, Alya refused to look up.

Her stubbornness got the best of her. She looked over and saw Adrien standing hand-in-hand with Luka. Since when were they that closed?

Adrien rests his head against Luka’s chest, giving Marinette a warm smile. There’s hope for her ship.

That ended with a single kiss. The blogger screams. How could all this go so wrong? Just yesterday, everything was like it was at the start of their 8th-grade year. And now, it was a loaded mess.

“Dude when did this happened?” Thank kwami for Nino.

Adrien rubs the back of his neck, sending Nino a sheepish smile.

“For a while now, but not as long as Marinette has been with Damian. Those two have been dating since Mars’s thirteenth birthday and been going strong ever since.” Marinette hums as Damian kisses her cheek. She’s practically glowing.  

“But…but,” Alya stutters. Her brain could not comprehend the situation.

Marinette steps in front of Alya and looks her dead in the eyes.  

“Alya, dating Adrien would be like dating my brother. Which practically it is, considering we’ve been friends since we were in diapers.” Marinette then adds more fuel to the fire, “You and the class would have noticed had you not been set on this Adrienette ship.”

Adrien also decided to add in his two cents. “Yeah, a simple search online and you would see photos of Mari and me at galas, movie premieres, fashion shows. She and Damian have been in news coverage from the first time they announce their relationship to their recent engagement announcement.” Marinette blushed at the thought of the now visible giant ring on her ring finger.

“Alya, in a different universe I would proudly be Adrien’s girlfriend,” There’s a pause, a false moment of hope, “But it’s not this universe.”

Her knees gave in. If it wasn’t for Nino, Alya would have hit the ground. She watches the nearly engaged couple walk out of the park and in the direction of the bakery. A string of unidentifiable words leaves her lips in mumbles.

“Better luck next time, Alya,” Adrien smiles before he and Luka follow the two, but not without waving goodbye to Nino.

Alya remained lost for words.

Her ship will never become canon. All her hard work was for nothing–a false dream. Breaking free of Nino’s grasp, she falls onto the green pastures.

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

Rewrite of Request #19. 

[biggsodorcitystories]

NWR Numbers 9 and 10: Donald and Douglas McIntosh

Next up are my designs for the Scottish twins: Donald and Douglas McIntosh. They work all over the island and are considered second only to Edward when it comes to goods expertise or handling trucks, but officially call the Arlesburgh "The Little Western" branch line home, where they live with their spouses, Duck and Oliver respectively, and their growing families. The are also the younger cousins of Emily.

Donald and Douglas grew up in Scotland, learning English alongside their native Gaelic, together and became inseparable. However, they were regarded as an ideal team for goods trains and were happy until their original controller retired.

With the new controller came the beginning of dieselisation on their railway, resulting in many of their friends and loved ones being sent to scrap. This planted the seeds of their prejudices against diesels, made worse by the constant fear of their own imminent scrapping.

But Donald's offer of a transfer to the North Western Railway offered them a sliver of hope. Though the offer was only extended to Donald, he smuggled his twin to Sodor with him, sure that their lifelong work ethic would win over their new Controller. However, a string of ill fortune and a spiteful breakvan meant that it took an additional intervention from the other engines - in particular, a private conference with Edward - to prove their worth. This is something that they have worked hard to secure ever since.

Some time after, the two engines were moved to Arlesburgh with Duck - an engine with whom they had always enjoyed a special relationship. Living together caused the relationship between Donald and Duck to blossom into real love. Around the same time, Douglas found and rescued a Great Western tank engine and Break Van - Oliver and Toad - the former being Duck's younger brother. Toad became Douglas's break van in gratitude, also acting as cupid between him and Oliver. By the time Donald and Duck married, Douglas and Oliver had also fallen in love and married shortly after. They have fathered four children between them: Grace and Austin for Donald and Duck; Robyn and Scarlett for Douglas and Oliver. Both hope for more children.

Both were overjoyed by the arrival of their cousin Emily and acted as (uninvited) chaperones during her early romance with Henry. They have 'graciously' accepted Henry and have always been accepting of his son, Anthony, acting as crazy uncles to him and his half-brother Tyler.

Donald also has Dilly, an unofficial pet duck who he dotes on. His choice of pet, combined with him being married to Duck, has resulted in some gentle teasing from the other engines.

Donald and Douglas have a well-earned reputation for being engines you do not mess with, which includes those they love. They are both fiercely protective of Duck and safeguard them from any criticism or negative comments about their gender identity. Though both are fully aware of Duck's true identity, they are resolved to support them as they come to terms with it.

[mercyisms]

Niche Nona liveblogging: Day Three - Five

And we continue my copious and niche note-taking and very predictable reactions. Previous and future installations can be found here. Spoilers for up to page 282 in the hardcover or up until Day Five. Also very, deeply cool to reblog or reply or come yell in my askbox. Whatever you please.

Puppy love “just made you want to open the puppy’s lips and play with the puppy’s teeth.” God. Some of these observations are simply too good.   Pouring several out at “You’d never act like you were married to me” and “Landmine people” (at first sight!?) and “I mean, also redheads. Love a redhead.” Pyrrha Dve I am still free on Monday, on Tuesday, on Wednesday and my hair is very technically red. I’ll work on the Molotov cocktail personality. We have clocked Nona’s skin being described as an egg carton (brown ones, I assume? Not grey) and Corona having “skin like amber.” We are very much paying attention to these descriptions. “Crown Him with Many Crowns Thy Full Galant Legions He Found It in Him to Forgive” – I don’t have Wake’s full name handy right now, but we are noting the gender happening in “Crown Him” but also that hymn is pared with what I am seeing is an excerpt from the Côte d'Ivoire national anthem (Thy Full Galant Legions) plus a song by Dominion Road called Mutiny Within. Mutiny Within, well! That seems very apt for Coronabeth. But with the play off of Dominion Road, we have three name-parts that all evoke sovereignty. Fitting + perhaps this will idk be mobilized in some way in the text. (Also compare “He Found it in Him to Forgive” with John’s professed “There can be no forgiveness.” Possibly a useful ideological difference to map?) Noting the portrait of Wake (Pyrrrhaaaa) but also the plastic flowers, which is very logical but a bit different from Blood of Eden’s previous associations with more organic substances. Then again, war zone commanders can’t, we suspect, be choosers. (Though, of course, they were never entirely organic! Just thinking, thinking.) “Let us move on from playing games with how clever and how old you are. I am not impressed, and they annoy my colleague.” + “Yes. Good. The intel, I mean, not anybody’s romantic history, which I abhor.” I do not abhor We Suffer and We Suffer. In fact, I love her, and also while she would loathe it, there is a little slight waft of Mercymorn energy. I’ll say, I will. An itch, you see, of “mean lady” is being scratched. “When Nona was angry her cheeks went red and her voice got squeaky.” Terrifying implications for whoever’s body she’s in. Also Nona’s relative smallness to Coronabeth/Crown --> that’s a point in Harrow box, to be sure. “There were bones inlaid in the sides like fossils in a dried out riverbed…” Aesthetics of environmental collapse + frankly, the ship just sounds sexy (152). Great design. “Assume the worst, ignore the best… Do not catastrophe.” Wake content, we love to see it. Oh, also, of course the No Hopers comment is fascinating, though the extent of my knowledge on the historic/Christian adjacent “No Hopers” is Emily Dickinson. So. I’m noting it, but I’m likely not someone to take it up. Source Joyeuse and Source Piotra AND Source Aegis AND Source Chrysaor !! God I love all of these BACKSTABBING DEMI-GODS. Joyeuse and Aegis seem very straightforward as far as code names. I am totally unsure what to do with Augustine as Source Piotra?? Why? Is it to do with St. Peter and can someone explain that to me? Not sure why Cytherea’s been given the name of a dude who sprouted from Medusa’s fallen head / Pegasus’s… sibling? Y? But I love any mention of that beautiful, beloved, evil girl and it is very dramatic. I’m sure she’d like that. (How much say did the Lyctors have in their code names and did Mercymorn insist on absolute near-literality? If so, Mercymorn, your self-preservation game is so weak. I love you.) “Lyctors take the very flooring from beneath our feet. We cannot see them coming. We can never stop them. When they arrive the clock starts, and another home is taken away from us… our children stateless, our grandchildren perpetual nomads.” Love an insight into Lyctors-in-combat. Fascinating. Devastating. The worst part of me was dying to see some of those old fuckers fight, I must admit (156). “The Eighth was killed by something we don’t understand.” WHEN are we going to talk about the stoma and the teeth and WHATEVER happen to Colum?? What ate him??? My true, teethy love. It's necessary to talk about Chapter 13 all together, so the fact that Nona and only Nona hears the Captain (sensitive, immensely, to Varun/RB7?) say: “Dust of my dust…what shape they made you fill—we see you still—we seek you still…you misused green thing—come back to us—take vengeance for us” – I mean, this has to be RB sweet talk from one Resurrection Beast to another and I am deeply interested in listening to the planets talk and not in an astrology way. But also we are bookmarking “the Captain didn’t say anything when you came into the room. She only screamed.” & Nona’s capacity to understand the scream as language, and potentially screams as planetary (post-trauma? post-destruction?) language. IF all is as I assume, that’s a fascinating thread to pull on later. “Camilla was gone and then we met Harrowhark, and she came back” devastating, btw. “Love that melodrama. Is there Eighth somewhere in your family tree?” Please. Please. Show me the Eighth. Show me what Mercymorn and a nun (????) wrought and also, I am certain, abandoned. Show me this million-fold cult. “That meant Nona was only being ordinarily selfish, not dangerously selfish.” I love you, Nona. “You’re scared of Pyrrha, and you do think she’s nice-looking, but you’re confused when you think that so you don’t look at her very much. You want Camilla to cuddle you but not in a—a sexy way. I think you want Camilla to look at you like you look at me. And you’re in love with th—” [e Captain, surely.] Yum. Desperate to know, though, Coronabeth’s intel on The Saint of Duty & Gideon/Pyrrha’s inter-empire reputation per “I’ve heard too much of the Saint of Duty to trust Pyrrha Dve.” “That’s why I should ask you what I look like, and ask my sister what I’m feeling… You’ll always tell me I look beautiful and she’ll always tell me what I want her to think.” Equally invested in the Tridentarii situation but especially the implication that Corona believes she can deceive Ianthe (175). “He never liked losing control… he could not be coaxed to sleep unless she stood in the doorway, or in the worst times stroking her thumb between his eyebrows, down the bridge of his nose.” A very ‘I am paying deep attention to the John/Alecto (??)’ vibes to you too (188). “M-- had brought her best friend, the nun” The stadium getting to their feet, chanting Cristabel! Cristabel! Cristabel! And I am the stadium, entire. Also of course the very neat “And then A—brought in his little brother who was a hedge fund manager. A—Junior was useless but he was a darling, I couldn’t fault A—for adding him into the mix.” Because of course Cristabel and Alfred are introduced together, as A—and M—were. We have completed a set that is very dear and darling to me. (Mildly losing it over Cristabel and Alfred being less named and rendered, instead, in the possessive in relation to A—and M—. I’m crawling the walls over it a little, actually.) Although, I will say, they are the detail throwing me most for a loop right now. I have to recalculate all of my assumptions about Cristabel and Alfred. Cristabel? Wildly competent and brisk and a nun?? Applying to and arguing with the Vatican? Insisting John keep office hours and learn practical lessons from Christ? I am listening. I am fascinated. I’m tearfully rolling up my weeaboo Cristabel headcanons and getting ready to replace them with new and equally dazzling colours. (Okay, but what if she has Neon Genesis Evangelion energy?? Did Madoka not die for our sins??? Here’s how weeaboo Cristabel can still win, etc.) Likewise, Alfred being Augustine’s younger brother and not older or a twin is the last thing I expected. Even more so than hedge fund manager. (God, what a family. I am imagining it now.) I really thought Augustine specifying he was a few inches taller than Alfred but clearly wearing heels was a secret little hint that they might be twins but Augustine had a warped and inflated ego. This, this is good too. “A—and M—were making black jokes about taking volunteers from the crowd for the skeleton army,” They future-hate each other. They can’t stop working together. They have the same sense of humour. They ruined my life. “I can’t believe nobody’s ever going to laugh at my jokes again… It’s all gone, I’m the only one left. It’s just me and you and no more jokes.” (193) Genuine pathos here, for me. This is truly John characterized at his most #millenial, this chapter. But ALSO cf. some of the early things I’ve pulled out around Nona and Nona/Alecto’s atonement to loneliness vs. the profound loneliness and isolation of John. And now: terrible occupation politics. Good. “Prince Ianthe Naberius the First, the Lyctor Prince, the Saint of Awe” + “Crown Prince Kiriona Gaia, heir to the First House, the Emperor’s only daughter” + “Tower Princes” – we note, of course, the Gender and this move to, with the end of the emperor’s lyctors, tower princes. Ianthe and Gideon being prices is very interesting to me. We also note that Cytherea’s naming convention (disliked by Augustine and Mercymorn, all too apt for G1deon) has been adopted by Ianthe, which is… fascinating. Also, John renaming Gideon with an Indigenous name and the pivot back? to Indigeneity in the empire – fascinating, rich stuff. Also I was today years old when I realized Gaius was maybe not a play on like “just some guy” or any of the characters from Tacitus et al. but potentially the masculine of Gaia as in Earth. God!!! “Pretending you can bandage bipeds” I cannot remember where I learned the fact that a vet is more ideal in an apocalypse situation than a doctor, but it’s in my brain and you can have it now too. (You want someone with more diverse than specialized knowledge, is the thought process.) (Again, I cannot remember where I learned this, so who knows if it’s valuable. I would also very much take a doctor in a doomsday situation, personally.) Which reminds me: this book is really making me wish I had a more useful degree to ingratiate myself to our future undead leader. And also it is, again, patently unfair that John is a science guy and that well-read. It’s not the unkillable thing that’s OP to me. It’s that he can quote Poe and do math. Smh. “Chance to be her, huh? A little independent living for once?” “It is my enormous privilege to be they.” I am very EYES EMOJI at whatever is happening with Angel but also with their gender more broadly. (215) I feel like I have not commented on how much I love all of Nona’s school friends, but I really do & think they are deployed ingeniously, I do. Perhaps we can discuss it later, but I fear I have more Old People adjacent things to transcribe. Sorry to teenagers everywhere. “[John] was scared of that—he was always scared of the water” (219). We are both fascinated by the scope of John’s powers but also comparing this to Nona’s (Alecto’s??) love of salt water… (CAN John swim? Asking for a friend.) “’Don’t follow me, I’m mad.’ … She wondered again why anything that hurt them only hurt briefly, but that anger took such a long time to go away.” (220) I’m. “When M—had been all, I will not accept those numbers, I will not accept a plan that incorporates reproductive injustice…” We stan a girlboss and a feminist. Also “I couldn’t follow, but A—could” – god, love an awful man who, again, can do mental quadratics. “M—freaked out…. And A—agreed with her, which was how you knew it was really, really bad.” 😊 Also if you knew how prominently generational ships had featured in my life this past year… And, like, that one forgotten Canadian generational ship show, where I think one wing of the ship is just Amish..? It sure is an idea. “They left you. They left you….  She said, ‘I don’t remember.’ He said, ‘I cannot forget.���” I mean, look, God being the only person (I assume, based on Mercymorn and Augustine having this gap in their memory as well) who can remember the death of the planet, and at the hand of trillionaires and ineffectual governments… and neither being able to forget or let go or forgive… and becoming that himself… It’s compelling stuff, I think. I think. (It’s very [redacted] of him. I need to run this take by someone before I post it outright, so, sorry, just noting it here so I remember.) “Another plastic echo of buttons. The same voice answers, but not the same person. The conversation that followed was filled with weird pauses, as though they were actors in a play who couldn’t quite get their cues right.” (229) Take this whole recorded conversation and pull my heart out through my eyeballs. Also adding it to latent thoughts abt sixth house epistolary forms. “Love and freedom don’t coexist, Warden.” A lot about love in this book, and all books, and this line… We are highlight it for later. (230)  (“I am your end.” As in, I will destroy you? As in, I am where you reach your limits? Or I am your limits, your boundaries? Every way you cut it: good. A fun twist on ye olde oath.) “[Pyrrha] was teaching Nona how to dance.” Someone write that fic, too. Someone (Tamsyn) confirm or deny the number of terrible dad moves Pyrrha has or if she exactly dances or what. We note that Lemuria is a fake and sunken city. (239) “Edenites go through people like water… His dads are baggage.” (250) We remain interested in this third ‘civilian’ pov, but also belatedly noting that the increased proliferations of languages, genders, and family formations really does show you have regimented and controlled House life (or elite House life anyway, as we can only really speak for the upper-class representatives) is. It is smart and, again, revealing. “Time exited her body.” (255) re: depictions of violence, death, and John’s potential abilities. Also just very effective writing. “It was A—‘s little brother who said, Well you have to understand money is one big shared hallucination…” Obsessed with Alfred being a hedge fund guy who makes these caveats. I am listening, I am learning, I am adjusting my perception of Alfred Quinque. And also someone, apparently, semi to totally fluent in crypto. Incroyable. “M-- and A—were a united front, and that was scary as fuck. It was always frightening when they stood together.” We have been taking too many shots re: every time John points out A + M acting as a united pair!!! This feeds me. This truly does. “A—and M—looked at it, and looked at me, and they said, Do it.”  + “And that’s when A—and M—stepped in to negotiate.” “They were hitting the table like in a police drama, like, We can end this whenever we want! The ball’s in our court!... I was like Wow, sorry guys, I don’t really know either of these two, they’re very unexpected and mean. I came here to have a good time and I think they’re being very harsh.” This alone could nourish me for weeks, but also Mercymorn/Augustine horrible TV serial AU when. Also deeply revealing for how John has always positioned himself, really. Characterization! We love it! His hands and his fingers and his gestures and his angry, way harsh fists. (274) “Nona… let out a long, bellowing scream, one that went on for ever and ever… and she was screaming blood as well as sound.” (276) Noting for scream-as-language purposes. Good. Good. Good. Good. God, this is so well structured. Inhuman how Tamsyn can say so much and plot so tightly and it’s all so fast as well. 300ish pages just whizzing by. The Acts are strong, etc. You know the drill, more from me here.

[reidingmelodies]

Finders Keepers

A/N: ��It’s been ages since I’ve written anything, so I figured it was about time I got back into it!  Hope you enjoy, any feedback is appreciated :) Warnings: None Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7K

“What’s wrong with you, Pretty Boy?” Morgan questioned as Spencer rushed into the BAU Tuesday morning, fingers threading through his curls and a look of pure agitation gracing his features.  As if he didn’t hear the question directed towards him, Spencer continued to storm through the room, nearly stumbling into Morgan in his quest to reach his desk.

Pupils dilating, Morgan looked towards JJ who had taken stock of the scene from her chair, brows already furrowed and legs moving to stand and head towards her fellow colleague.

Taking the lead, JJ swiftly headed to Spencer’s side, moving to place a hand on his shoulder before thinking better of it and placing both hands on the edge of his desk instead, Mama Bear instincts dialed all the way up.  “Everything okay, Spence?  You seem annoyed.”  

Morgan scoffed before thinking better of it, “I’d say he’s a bit more than annoyed, JJ”.  No sooner than the words had left his mouth he was given a swift elbow in his side from JJ and an eye roll from Spencer and all that was left for Morgan to do was raise his hands in defeat.

Sighing, Spencer turned back to his desk before mumbling a response back to them, “I’m fine, guys.  I think I lost my copy of War and Peace on the Metro this morning.  It was in my bag when I left my place, it must have fallen out when I was trying to grab my umbrella.  I thought maybe I just forgot and left it here, but apparently not”.

“You and I both know you don’t forget anything, Pretty Boy,” Morgan chimed in, visibly less tense now that he knew there wasn’t any immediate danger.

“Actually Morgan that’s not entirely true.  I have an eidetic memory which means-”

“There’s the Reid we all know and love,” JJ chuckled, heading back to her desk to get ready for the day ahead of them.  Morgan followed, leaving the bullpen in search of Garcia and Spencer sighed, trying to move past the fact that one of his favorite books was no longer in his possession.  Logically, he knew he could buy a replacement copy after work, but deep down he knew it wasn’t the same.

The words dancing across the page would be the same ones that brought him entertainment and the comfort found in familiarity throughout his life, but the book within his hands wouldn’t hold the same nostalgic memories.  He wouldn’t look down at the tattered cover and reminisce on his first jet ride with the BAU, thinking back on how he brushed his fingers against the book’s familiar spine while trying to calm his stomach filled with nervous jitters at the prospect of working with unfamiliar people.  He wouldn’t look at the dog-eared pages and remember how the words on those exact pages brought him comfort on nights he would escape to his bedroom and try to leave memories of aggressive classmates and whispering peers behind.  

Any thought of potentially buying a new copy of the book after the workday was dispelled though as Garcia called everyone into the conference room to discuss a pending case in Phoenix, no sooner followed by a “wheels up in thirty” announcement from Hotch.  Grabbing his go-bag and leaving the bullpen, Spencer filled his head with thoughts of the case, half of his brain racing ahead to connect victimology and significant locations while the other half was stuck repeating a never-ending mantra of “it’s just a book” in the back of his mind.

***

As Spencer was boarding a jet to head 468 miles north, Y/N was playing with a loose thread on her sweater, thinking about the long day of work ahead of her.  Breaking her trance, she looked up and instead glanced up at the now empty row of seats in front of her.  Her brows furrowed as she saw a book stuck in the crack between the far left seat cushion and the back of the chair, and before she knew it her curiosity overtook her.  Y/N found herself standing from the seat, travel mug and bag in tow, before reaching for the dictionary-like book that was calling to her.  The title War and Peace glared back at her, and a quick turn of the cover revealed faded words written in blue ink proclaiming that the book was the “Property of Spencer Reid”.   With the announcement of her stop blaring over the loudspeaker and the weight of someone else’s book in their hand, Y/N made a split second decision to stuff the book into her bag, leaving the Metro with not only thoughts of the upcoming workday but visions of whom the mysterious Spencer Reid could be.

The workday passed by slowly, each passing second filled with the overwhelming desire to search for Spencer Reid on Google.  By the time Y/N was on the Metro ride home, any and all motivation to search for the book’s rightful owner went out the door as her irritation grew with the rising heat of the increasingly packed subway car.  Needing a distraction, her hand reached into her bag, initially moving for her cell phone but making a last second switch as her hand brushed the spine of the book.  May as well spend my time doing something productive, she thought as she gently pulled the book out of it’s temporary home.  With a final sigh, she turned to the first page and began to read.

As Y/N was tearing through the pages of War and Peace at an alarmingly quicker rate than she anticipated that night, Spencer was filling out a WMTA lost and found form in the hopes that someone had the decency to return his book.  Knowing his luck, he assumed it was long gone and in the trash somewhere, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to make one last ditch effort at finding it.  Groaning, Spencer called it a night and went to bed, silently vowing to find his book the second he stepped foot off the BAU jet again.        

***

Six days later the BAU team landed in Quantico, making plans to head to a bar for a drink before a well deserved day off.  As designated drivers were assigned and phone calls home were made Spencer gathered his things, making a beeline to the door in the hopes of reaching the WMTA’s designated lost and found area before it closed for the night.  He was a foot away from the door before a soft hand grasped his wrist, immediately stopping him in his tracks.

“Skipping out on the bar tonight, Reid?” Emily questioned, head tilted as she noticed how frazzled her friend was.

“I’m just gonna go home and watch a bit of Dr.Who” Spencer began, desperately trying to think of something that would let him out the door without further questions.  “Speaking of Dr. Who, did you know that it was originally created to be an educational show for kids?  It’s actually really interesting-”

“Say no more, Dr. Reid,” Emily laughed, letting go of his wrist and heading back towards the others, “enjoy your night”.  Spencer tightly smiled, leaving the bullpen and making his way to downtown DC in search of his book.  An hour later and he wasn’t any closer to finding his book, ultimately giving up and heading to the bookstore to buy himself another copy.

It was at that same time JJ and Derek found themselves hysterically laughing at a corner booth in the bar, thinking about how Spencer probably missed out on meeting the love of his life that night- a woman sitting in the booth directly across from them, War and Peace open on the table in front of her and a pen and highlighter busy at work marking up post its that were being meticulously placed on the book’s pages.

***

A month and a half went by and Spencer had officially given up hope on finding his lost book.  In the six weeks since he had last seen it he refrained from reading his new copy, not willing to give up the small amount of hope he had that he would be reunited with his original book.  That evening though, as the Metro had yet another delay and the subway car continued to get hotter and hotter, he figured there was no better time than the present and pulled out his new copy of War and Peace.  A few pages in, a sudden jolt of the car made him glance up and almost immediately he locked eyes with the woman across from him.  In the span of ten seconds, his thoughts ranged from she’s beautiful to hold on- she’s holding my book and before his legs fully alerted his brain what was happening he found himself on his feet and sitting in the empty seat directly next to her.

As Spencer’s brain began to register just how bad of an idea it was to sit next to a stranger as abruptly as he just did, the woman next to him gripped her bag slightly tighter, tilting her head to the side as she peaked a look at the man next to her.

Her mouth opened to speak, but before she could do so Spencer interrupted her, desperately trying to save himself from any embarrassment her words could bring.

“That’s my book,” he bluntly stated, mentally hitting himself as he watched her adorably confused features morph into a look of defense.

“No.. that’s your book,” she pointed down to his lap, where his new copy of War and Peace was resting between his palms.

“No it’s not- well, it is but it isn’t really?” Spencer tried to explain, his face growing more and more red with each word that left his mouth.

“So it’s your book, but not your book?” She questioned, lips curling up into a slight smile as she witnessed the sweet agitation of the man in front of her.

“Yes!  I lost my book on the metro almost two months ago.  This is just my replacement copy, and I don’t know how I know, but I’m positive the book in your hands right now is the one that I lost.”  Spencer finished his spiel, watching as the woman’s eyes widened in realization and her mouth formed an “o” shape.

“You’re Spencer Reid?” she asked, and now it was his turn to play the part of the confused companion.

“I- yes? But, how do you know my name?” As soon as the question left his mouth the image of the title page of his book filled his head and all too soon he was practically yelling with joy in the poor woman’s face.  “Wait, that is my book then!  Does it say Property of Spencer Reid on the cover page?”

The woman laughed, and Spencer watched as any traces of tension left her body.  “I’m so sorry!  I found it on the Metro on my way to work, and I meant to look you up- not in a creepy way,” she continued, growing more flustered with each passing second.  “I was gonna try and find you to return it but then I started reading it and I liked it more than I thought I would and I just,” She stooped, taking a breath and giving him the most adorable set of puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen.  “I’m just really sorry, I shouldn’t have held onto it as long as I did”.  She finished, and held the book up, holding it out towards Spencer’s hands.  “I think this belongs to you”.

“It’s not a problem at all, I promise,” Spencer reassured her with a warm smile on his face, “thanks for keeping it safe”.  Something about her filled his stomach with joy, and as he looked at her he saw a similar smile mirrored back at him.  It was at that moment he knew he would do anything to keep that look of happiness on her face, stranger or not.  “You know what,” he continued, “you should keep it- finders keepers and all that”.

Y/N laughed in disbelief, immediately shaking her head and pushing the book closer to its rightful owner.  “It’s bad enough I’ve had it this long,” she admitted.  “It belongs with you”.

“At least take this one then?”  Spencer’s brain continued to be a few steps ahead of him, and before he knew it he was taking the book in the stranger’s outstretched hands and placing his new copy in her grasp.  “It looks like you still have a hundred pages or so left and I wouldn’t want to keep you from finishing it.  Besides, I definitely don’t need two copies”.

The woman smiled and gave him an enthusiastic nod, and Spencer couldn’t help but think he just made the best decision of his life.  The speaker above them announced the next stop, and with a sudden jump she left her seat, discarding the new book into her bag and turning towards Spencer on her way to the door.  “Thanks, Spencer!” she exclaimed, “maybe I’ll see you around sometime”.  Another smile was sent his way, and before he earned up the nerve to ask for her name she was gone, disappearing into a growing crowd of commuters desperate to get back to the comfort of their homes and begin the weekend ahead.

***

The following morning, Spencer found himself in his living room with a mug of coffee in his hand, completely lost in his thoughts.  He was trying to calculate the chances of seeing the mystery woman again, considering it took six weeks after losing his book to see her for the first time at all.  

He groaned, inwardly cursing himself for his lack of courage the day before and wishing he at least had a name to match to the face that wouldn’t leave his mind.  As the coffee cooled, he found his gaze wandering to the coffee table where he had laid the book and his satchel the previous night.  With a sigh, Spencer picked up the book only to notice a bright orange post-it sticking out of one of the pages.

“The strongest of all warriors are these two- time and patience” was written in loopy writing, highlighted in yellow with exactly twelve exclamation points in red ink under it.  He was a man of science, but he couldn’t help but feel as though finding one of his favorite quotes from the novel staring up at him was a sign.

As he continued to skim the pages, he found note after note filled with quotes, reactions, and doodles and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration for the stranger who put them all there.  It was a book that held countless memories for Spencer, but already he could tell that this was going to be his ultimate favorite.  

Backtracking to the front page, Spencer saw his familiar scrawl had been slightly covered by a light blue post it note.  “If this book gets lost a second time I don’t want to make the same mistake as the first guy… please call Y/N at-” Spencer laughed, immediately grabbing his phone to dial the number before he has time to talk himself out of it.

As the phone began to ring, he thought about how he couldn’t picture her name being anything else.  It was as beautiful as she was, and he longed to properly meet the woman who managed to get his heart racing with just a few post-it notes.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end of his phone answered, and Spencer could immediately tell it was the same woman from the subway.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” he began, fingers nervously twiddling together.  At her hum of acknowledgement he continues, “This is Spencer, the guy who’s book you had?  I was just looking through the post-its you left behind and I love the perspective you have on the book.  Plus, it was so nice of you to even hold onto it in the first place so I was wondering if you’d wanna get coffee, maybe?  So I can say thank you for everything and talk about the book with you?”

The opposite end of the phone was silent and Spencer’s face grew red, his hands moving to his hair because how could he possibly think she wanted to meet him, she didn’t even know him and-

“I was hoping you’d find that post-it note,” she giggled, and with the sound all of Spencer’s worries completely washed away.  “Absolutely”.

***

Link to join my taglist ♡

[miraculousfanworks]

Fanfiction Prompt

Gabriel was sketching out costume designs for his unifications with other miraculouses. He was just drawing the abs on his Hawk Noir costume (because really, they'll make him more fearsome and Emilie always liked it) when Adrien came into the room for a meeting that Gabriel completely forgot about. (Hey! He was drawing!) "Hi father I'm here to talk about my shoot yester- wait... Is that Hawkmoth...? With abs?" Gabriel immediately shut down the drawing pad. "Adrien I can explain." Adrien gaped at his father before shaking his head. "Really father?" "Look Adrien-" "Out of all the people, him?" "I'm doing this for your moth- wait what?" Adrien put his hand on a clearly confused Gabriel. "Father, I'm glad that you're trying to move on from mother. I'm even fine having a stepfather in the future. I'll support you no matter what. But you could do so much better than that jerkface." Gabriel's eyes widened. "Wha- I don't- I'M NOT IN LOVE WITH HAWKMOTH! AND HE ISN'T A JER- WHATEVER YOU SAID!" Adrien froze in place. "This is worse than I thought." Behind the door, Nathalie had fallen to the ground laughing. (Days later, Adrien gave Nathalie a list of possible suitors. "Give this to my dad. Also, make sure he never sees any pictures of Hawkmoth. Father deserves better than a sleazy super villain.")

via Sha

[space-pirates-archipelago]

Original Characters

Trust me, there are more than this, but here are the ones from my original world! All of the others are from worlds made by friends ( @isas-oc-asylum @illyriashade56 @nebula-starlight @bunchofdoodlesinspace @deaths-presence @alexorsobean) which will still be mentioned periodically :)

All characters below the cut

Nebula (Az'Linzi Descendant)

Nova (Inarakuma/Astril)

Silarce (Opposite)

Ava (Human)

Aurora (Inarakuma/Astril)

Alex (Az'Linzi Descendant)

Amelie (Human)

Marcus (Human)

Tempest (Android)

Idalia (Half-Fae)

Evelyn (Fae)

Lucien (Human)

Harriet (Human)

Azalea (Human)

Carlie (Lycan)

Melody (Human)

Harmony (Alter)

Dillan (Warlock)

Sadie (Warlock)

Dr. Hugo (Cyborg)

Sam (Human)

Athena (Unimprinted Az'Linzi)

Phileas (Mountain Az'Linzi)

Oteilas (Unimprinted Az'Linzi)

Dexterity (Volcanic Az'Linzi)

Calypso (Plant Az'Linzi)

Juno (Ocean Az'Linzi)

Vukita (Plant Az'Linzi)

Elroy (Animal Az'Linzi)

Jericho (Galactic Az'Linzi)

Orion (Lunar Az'Linzi)

Astrid (Lunar Az'Linzi)

Clocktower (Creation Az'Linzi)

Sapphire (Creation Az'Linzi)

Nadyra (Seer Az'Linzi)

Clyde (Ocean Az'Linzi)

Lucifer II (Satan)

Camille (Lilith)

Samael (Harbinger)

Jophys (Harbinger)

Michaelis (Harbinger)

Lilit (Harbinger)

Lucille (Harbinger)

Thomas (Fallen Angel)

Ashley (Fallen Angel)

Jackson (Angel)

Valentine (Sin of Lust)

Dixie (Sin of Pride)

Ivy (Sin of Envy)

Zohyn (Sin of Sloth)

Scarlet (Sin of Wrath)

Dagon (Sin of Greed)

Gala (Sin of Gluttony)

Miguel (Demon)

Cecropia (Duus'ire)

Vide (Duus'ire)

Blaire (Duus'ire)

Arcade (Duus'ire)

Prism (Duus'ire)

Blink (Duus'ire)

Kvasir (Duus'ire)

Fable (Duus'ire)

Ariadne (Duus'ire)

Lyric (Duus'ire)

Span (Duus'ire)

Spark (Duus'ire)

Design (Duus'ire)

Mikhail (Human)

Max (Human)

Ca Prend (Demon)

Jazz (Demon)

Maia (Demon)

Kava (Demon)

Leo (Demon)

Nathaniel (Warlock)

Noah (Warlock/Az'LinziDescendant)

Jaydeka (Naga)

Kayra (Naga)

Griffin (Az'Linzi Descendant)

Dr. Carson (Chimera)

Dr. Alysela (Human)

Dr. Varian (Az'Linzi Descendant)

Matthew (Az'Linzi Descendant)

Dr. Catalyst (Warlock)

Zachariah (Demon)

Emily (Az'Linzi Descendant)

Traci (Az'Linzi Descendant)

Sarah  (Az'Linzi Descendant)

Zira (Ink Demon)

Phoebe (Fire Sorcerer)

Carolyn (Ability User)

Aiden (Fire Sorcerer)

Valery (Reaper)

Dritzen (Lycan)

Archer (Half-Demon)

Callisyxis (Demon)

Cascadia (Nyrix)

Nymphea (Nyrix)

Airyn (Nyrix)

Lucia (Nyrix)

Robin (Nyrix)

Eirwen (Nyrix)

Draven (Nyrix)

Chaya (Nyrix)

Trinity (Dimension Jumper)

Manisavi (Eldritch Lite)

Vashya (Eldritch Lite)

Andromeda (Inarakuma/Astril)

Sidney (Sun Elf/Archivist)

[goblinspumpkinpie]

The Notes Upon the Page (Norman x Reader) pt. 1

As the caretaker of Harry, you discover one of your many talents is also one of the greatest restrictions upon the Osborn family. And it drives you to answer a simple question: where did it all start from?

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: None

Hello everyone! I haven't written a proper reader insert in nearly 9 years and thought "hell, why not do it again?" Well, this took about 2 months to work up the courage to post, so a massive thank you to @softimaginescity for being my no. 1 supporter through the entire process!Sorry there isn't more Norman in this! I wanted to set up a couple things first.

I made a playlist! YouTube Spotify

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

"My father hates music."

The phrase blindsides the ears. A stark contrast to the otherwise suggested, given the instruments lined upon the walls and tucked into the corners of the room. One quick count reveals 16 instruments, each organized and arranged in what could be interpreted as orchestral form. Even the grand piano stands center and forefront to the door, adding to the aesthetic pleasure.

But the observation also begs the question: “Why does he have so many instruments?”

Harry’s hesitant eyes turn upwards until his gaze meets yours. He’s got a thousand words to say, but none which find their way to his mouth. And for good reason. He doesn't need to explain his father's arrogance and pride in the monopoly the Osborn family rests upon. The instruments are for show; a mixture of eastern and western to reinforce the subtle musical intellect Norman Osborn hopes to convey to any visitors. Some are even custom designed by overseas companies.

What does become vocalized is a change in description as Harry searches for better phrasing. "I guess he doesn't really hate music. He just doesn't want to hear it. I think it reminds him of Mom 'cause she used to play.”

It's a sombre story, tucked inside dismissal. Moreover, it seals off an entrance to the one world where the remnants of Harry's mother’s memories lie. Space and time repeatedly prove no competition against a timeless tune, and Emily's legacy is likely no exception. Waiting to be unlocked. But the bridges to reach her remain unbuilt. Each time Harry tries to lay the planks, his father destroys them.

It pains the younger Osborn to look at the instruments, his desire to understand their magic and his mother so apparent upon his face. So much so he's fallen quiet in favor of thinking. Ignoring you, as though he's forgotten he's not the only one in the room.

By no means is your presence unvalued. That you know. Your reasoning for stepping deep within Oscorp territory comes with a job acceptance to become the Osborn family's personal caretaker. What the full job description entailed, Norman Osborn never clarified; a classic Osborn conundrum, now that you’ve had nearly a year to investigate how he operates.

While Norman found your occasional flustered confusion and aimless wandering around the giant Oscorp building amusing, he never lost sight of the only blatant request he gave the first day you arrived: watch after his son when he couldn’t. Part of you expected Harry to protest against the idea of a “babysitter”, given he would turn 10 in the Fall. To an extent, Harry does show signs of frustration should you overstep his boundaries, his Osborn pride and Lyman stubbornness getting the better of him.

But the latter half of the months you’ve spent as his caretaker have been with the fullest of acceptance. Not just by Harry, whose childhood no longer slodges through complete loneliness, but by Norman, who has shockingly complimented your efforts once. According to the older Osborn, you’ve settled into the perfect balance of parent and friend, filling the emptiness pitted within the son. “If it weren’t for Peter, you might be his best friend,” Norman had said.

It’s that same bond that leads Harry to show off the music room. A room that probably shouldn’t be as easy to unlock with the swipe of a single keycard if Norman's restricted access inside. Now, as you study the wall of membranophones, you have to ask: "Your mother played all these instruments?”

"Oh yeah,” Harry says immediately. “At least that’s what Lucille told me. Oh yeah, you’ve never met Lucille. She was my mom’s maid; she works for Dad somewhere else now and doesn't visit me often. But she said Mom made a bunch of recordings of herself, then layered all the recordings to make a song. And then she put them on tapes. Hey, wait! I have one! Wanna hear?”

You agree, prompting Harry to skip to the piano bench. Sunbleach has overtaken the giant instrument from years of neglect, the sight a stab to your heart. Norman not only has one of the nicest pianos in the world made by an overseas company, but he’s decided it’s not worth his time to protect the hardwood. Cast to the side like a toy. In contrast, Harry remains unconcerned and unaware of the poor instrument’s condition, having become too wrapped up in retrieving a cassette tape from inside the bench. He holds it up as though he’s found ancient gold, then shuts the bench and drags it to a shelf with a stereo, where he places the tape in the cassette player ever so delicately.

Perhaps you expected to hear the piano, given where the tape was kept. Instead, the shrill trill of a tin whistle greets your ears, each note played with ever so select precision despite the rapid speed. A single guitar accompanies the tune, deepening the jig with cheerful chords just as exuberant as its partner. Yet never does the melody never becomes lost, accented notes keeping it organized and understandable in the chaos.

It's almost incredible. You’ve seen pictures of Emily scattered about the penthouse, all portraying her as a rather petite and dainty woman, even if she's the taller one between the Osborn adults. All of them deceiving, now knowing just how much power she put into her performances.

“Your mom played both parts?” Your voice may have given away your astonishment more than intended.

“Yep! Lucille says she even wrote this piece.”

“She really knew how to play,” you comment as you glance at the loopy cursive on the spine of the tape's case. This particular ensemble is named Don’t Fret About It.

It’s another minute before the song ends. Rather abruptly, as most jigs would, with only two notes and one chord to lead out the end. Only after it finishes does Harry speak again.

“I wanna learn how to play that someday, but I don’t know how to play an instrument. Mom tried to teach me when I was a kid but I didn’t care.” To be fair, Emily also died when Harry was 3. Most children wouldn’t care about instruments yet. But those thoughts are brief, for Harry has more to say, the words drawing a frown to his lips though his exact thoughts never surface to transparency. “Do you have any regrets? Because that’s what I regret. I wish I had paid attention."

Perhaps this is opportunity knocking. One that you’re meant to seize...which you are before you’ve had a chance to consider your words or their consequences.

“Would you still like to learn?”

“If my father will let me have lessons.” Harry wanders over to the piano and opens the fallboard, studying the ivory keys.

Right. Always down to Norman. The man whose idea of parenting could be described in one word, yet takes an essay to explain. To Norman, Harry’s life lays in detail upon an invisible planner, calculated out year by year, month by month, day by day. And if the plan ever goes awry, there was always a backup plan.

The one thing Norman doesn't calculate for is you. Nor could he ever have, for your name isn’t the most well-known when it comes to leaving a record of your musical career. What is out there is only known by word of mouth. Which gives you the rare opportunity.

You join Harry’s side in standing at the piano, raising one hand and pressing a few select keys and encouraging him to copy. As expected of the sunbeaten beaut, the piano is out of tune and impersonates a saloon instrument far more than its concert hall design suggests. Dust which collected upon the keyboard now touches your fingertips with a gritty consistency. The pedals cry in dire need of oil, prompting you to choose to forget their existence for the time being. Yet none of these imperfections take away from the sheer joy upon Harry’s face as he realizes he’s playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

He's a fast learner, faster than you prepared for. Within a few playthroughs, Harry understands not only the keys to press, but which fingers to use and where to position his wrist. All from a few few visual demonstrations upon your part. And it prompts you to ask another question:

“Maybe I could teach you?”

You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen Harry beam until he could pop, but what’s there to blame? The gleam in his eyes confirms he's wished for this moment for years, but never found the pathway to make it a reality until now. “Really??” He asks, unable to mask his feelings. “When do we start?”

“Which instrument do you want to learn first?”

“I wanna learn how to play the guitar! That was Mom’s favorite instrument because she always has it in pictures with her—” His words screech to a halt, his eyes adjusting to the stiffness that settles upon the atmosphere over your shoulder. The joy that captivated him drains just as easily from his face as it arrived.

“Hi Dad.”

Only then do you turn to face your boss standing in the doorway of the room. If there’s disappointment upon Norman's face, it's well hidden behind the frustration. The stoic businessman isn't known to be friendly, but now knowing the father's hated for music were far beyond an exaggeration makes the older Osborn’s sharp cold glare even more intimidating, green eyes burning through your head.

"Harry, aren't you supposed to be focusing on your studies?" He wonders aloud. A routine, passive aggressive question he's used multiple times in various scenarios, and one that only codes as fatherly worry when in front of strangers.

Not before you. You've been around Oscorp for far too long to be an acquaintance. Although one could argue you’re still an amateur, given you know very little about the man's personal endeavours. What you do know is that it’s summer, and Harry doesn’t have school, nor any summer camps to attend.

But you have no say in the matter, and Harry doesn't either. Nor does he fight back. Or even attempt to. "Yeah," is all he says, head turning down. He starts for the door, pausing as he passes you. “Can you get the tape?" And then he's gone, shoving past his father as he runs away. Norman attempts to make eye contact, but it’s futile.

You let Harry go, knowing he’ll likely head upstairs to his room. Your next step is towards the stereo, Norman’s eyes following your every move as he sets a small black box upon a nearby shelf. Only when the cassette tape is back in its case does he speak.

"I didn't know you could play the piano."

“A little,” you say as you shut the stereo. Under your breath, you mutter, "It's easier if the piano is tuned.”

"What?" Norman asks, stepping closer and tilting his head so his right ear leads.

You wave his question off, moving towards the piano. Your eyes meet as you place a little more enunciation upon your lips. "Nothing, I was just talking to myself."

Recognition flickers across Norman's face as he glances at the tape. And not in a positive way. "Where did you get that?"

"I found it," The gears in your mind immediately suspect something else is on Norman's thoughts. Something that causes you to tuck the tape in the corner of the bench, opposite of where a stack of bleached papers sit. Perhaps it’s counterintuitive, showing the man exactly where the tape is instead of taking it with you for protection. Yet part of you doubts he would have the heart to snap it in half or throw it away, as it's one of the few memories left of his late wife.

Closing the piano’s fallboard is the last task you complete before turning to study the man. He's emotionless, motionless, and unreadable. It makes for an intriguing combination, given his usually eccentric and motivated desire to banter. It also doesn't help deducing his intentions.

"Is there something you need?"

He's tempted to answer with detail. Instead, he ignores voicing it in favor of prodding his pet subject. "How’s Harry?”

"He’s good. Hasn’t changed since yesterday.” The snark isn’t met with approval. “It’s about his snack time. You're welcome to come if you want.”

"That isn't my job.” His voice sharpens as he switches topics again. “I thought I told you this room was off limits.”

“You did.”

“And you disobeyed my wishes.”

“Under the better interests of your son. As you obeyed me to do.”

Silence fills the space as Norman scans you over with great scrutiny. From your very eyes, down your face, to the shoulders, then falling through your torso and beyond before his gaze is back to your face. Like he’s assessing you, questioning why you’re not challenging him, and yet forcing him to hear what he doesn’t want.

And that’s what frustrates him most. All he can do is raise a hand and flick a lazy thumb over his shoulder. “Get out of here.” And you obey, stepping by him very similar to how Harry did just moments earlier. The only difference is that you keep your head up and your face always in view of his sight as you pass. Norman shuts the door behind you. He casts one more warning glance your way before heading to the penthouse elevator, pausing in his step when his fingers fail to find the item he needs in his pocket. Briefly, he pretends nothing is wrong to hide the level of concern he feels.

Too bad a year of working from him leaves his body language easy to deduce. “Norman,” you call, giving him a second to register your voice and direction it came from. “You left it on the shelf in the music room.”

Norman doesn't bother to thank you, swiping his Oscorp card to enter the room and return with the black box, which he pops open. The last thing you see of the man is him replacing his hearing aids before entering the elevator. Only then do you head to the third floor to find Harry setting up a board game.

Harry’s not in a mood for too much discussion, but he has the energy to mumble, “Do you know how to play Mahjong?” Shaking your head opens the opportunity for the youngster to boss you around and teach you the rules, regardless if you know the game or not. Within seconds, he’s forgotten what he was even angry about.

But while a smile accompanies your struggling to understand the rules Harry’s gleefully over-complicated in explanation, your mind remains elsewhere. You can't wrap your head around Norman's thought process. On one hand, he refuses to listen to Emily’s work despite it being possibly the closest memory of her soul. On the other, he keeps her instruments around, as though he expects her to return and play them again.

And it makes you wonder.

[isthisthingeven0n]

number eleven : s.r

a serial killer is at large in atlana, carving numbers into his victims and throwing their bodies from rooftops. yet, things seem to hit a little too close to home for your liking, and sadly you get caught up in it all (4.2k)

( this is an original idea of mine, I’ve gone based off what I know in the show but the killer is made up! pls do not steal my concept without at least asking, and i hope you enjoy :) )

“It’ll be okay, Spence,” You fight against the unsubs hold as his arm remains pressed against your neck. “just, don’t give up.”

“Please, let her go!” You can hear the crack in his voice as his gun shakes in his grip, his eyes not leaving yours as tears pool. “You don’t have to do this, there’s another choice for you.”

The unsub scoffs as you wince at he breathes into your ear. “This ends with you.”

*

Two Days Earlier

“Hey, Spencer,” You smile as you walk through the doors to the bullpen, two cups of coffee in hand as you place onto his desk. “how was the Doctor Who convention?”

Out of everyone in the team, you were the only one to pay attention to the small details Spencer shares. You always have done, ever since you first joined the BAU, you noticed the subtle eye rolls as he rambled on with facts and statistics so you made sure to always pay attention.

Lifting his head up, Spencer can feel a smile tugging his lips as you take a seat at your desk adjacent to his. “You would’ve loved it. They had the original designs from the Cybermen’s first appearance in 1966, ‘The Tenth Planet’ and for the time, it was high tech stuff.” He explains whilst you listen contently, oblivious to the others watching you both.

“God, they’re so into each other it hurts.” Emily sighs as Penelope nods along.

JJ walks over to the girls, catching sight of what they’re fixated on. “Why can’t they just say something? I mean, it’s been three years.” Penelope questions, but JJ simply chuckles.

“This is Spencer and Y/n we’re talking about.” JJ comments. “For one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Spencer can be stupid sometimes.” She states, returning her focus to how you look at Spencer as he talks, but also how willing Spencer is to be close to you and laughs at your input in between his rambles.

“I bet twenty dollars he’ll say something by the end of the year.” Rossi chimes in, but Emily scoffs. 

“Dream on, Rossi.” She comments, but Rossi shrugs his shoulders. 

Hotch exits his office, catching a glance from the girls who quickly stand up straight. “We’ve got a new case,” He announces, passing between you and Spencer on the way.

As you all enter the board room, you sit beside Spencer as you look at the tablet in front of you whilst he sticks to the original file.

“Within the past few months in Atlanta, Georgia, at least nine women have been found dead having fallen from rooftops, all in their twenties, latest victim was Caroline Kutes, twenty-three. Last seen having gone for a run after her shift at a local diner.” Penelope explains as you scroll through the images, seeing what was left of them from the crime scene.

“It’s not some suicide pack, is it?” Morgan speaks up, but Penelope shakes her head.

“I’m glad you asked, sugar.” She turns her back as she pulls up more images, displaying the victims left forearms. 

“Numbers?” You question, zooming in onto the number three having been carved into the victim's flesh. “Someone’s keeping track.”

“So we know there are nine confirmed victims of this unsub then, it’s not a suicide pack.” Hotch states. “The police have requested our insight on the case, wheels up in thirty.”

Closing the tablet you push your chair back. “You alright?” Spencer asks you as everyone begins to file out.

You force a small smile, nodding. “Yeah, just some cases are never easy.” You mutter before heading out and grabbing your things.

*

Arriving straight to the latest crime scene, Hotch splits the team up. “Prentiss, I want you and Morgan to go to the rooftop, see if there’s anything left by the unsub or Caroline Kutes. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the morgue to take a look at the carvings and if there’s any other sign of torture.”

With that, you climb into a car with Spencer, looking at the drop from the building to where Hotch stands. “One hell of a fall.” You whistle as the driver pulls away, Spencer not missing your comment or how you’ve been wiping your hands over your pants since you arrived.

Standing in the morgue, Spencer took the lead as you stood back whilst bodies were examined. “There isn’t any sign of sexual assault on any of the women, but there are bruises across the neck and the carvings on the arm.” The diener explains. “From the fall she suffered several broken bones, a collapsed lung and a crack to her skull along with internal bleeding.”

“Are you saying she was alive when she hit the ground?” You speak up, stepping closer to see how they’ve managed to clean up the victims face, what remains from the large gash in her head.

“Yes, but only for a minute. She chocked to death on her own blood.” The diener states and you can’t help but feel a shiver through your spine.

“It’s most likely the unsub approached these women, if Caroline was out for a run, he might’ve asked her for directions or grabbed her. If she was grabbed, it would explain the bruising on the neck in an attempt to cut the circulation off to the brain, rendering her unconscious.” Spencer suggests, looking over to you as you remain too quiet for his liking. “You in there?”

Snapping out from your thoughts, you nod. “So the unsub approaches these women, tries to strangle them and then takes them to a rooftop. He isn’t sexually assaulting these women, but why throw them off a roof?”

“If he’s trying to pose it as suicide, it’s unusual for women to throw herself off a roof, it’s too dramatic. If a woman were to commit suicide, she’d overdose or drown herself. A subtle way to go.” Spencer explains as you nod along. “It’s almost as if he’s apologetic. He wants them to suffer, but can’t inflict the pain besides carving a number into their forearm.” Spencer looks over the number on Caroline’s arm. “You can see in some area’s he didn’t go deep enough with the knife, he’s dug in multiple times to carve out enough skin to make it bleed.”

“Maybe he’s a narcissist? Keeping track of his victims, making sure no one else can take the limelight for these girls.” You state. “I mean, he knows he isn’t going to get caught by the girls. Based on Caroline, she could barely move let alone tell anyone who did this.”

“I’ve seen countless bodies from suicide by jumping from buildings. It’s a rarity if you survived such a fall like this.” The diener tells you. “Clearly they knew what they were doing.” 

“Contrary to popular belief, when the body falls from a height their head does not splatter onto the ground. Their bones will break and splay out, but if you were to fall from say a 48 feet building you’re most likely to live with a 50% chance of surviving.” Spencer explains, and you nod along. 

“But our unsub picks tall buildings. Office blocks, malls, parking lots.” You tell Spencer who hums. “He knows they’re not going to survive the fall.” 

“Yes, but statistically,” Spencer begins, but your phone begins to ring cutting him off. 

“Sorry, Spence.” You tell him with an apologetic smile before moving out from the morgue, taking the phone call. “Yeah?” 

“Ah, my sweet angel. Have you found Cupid’s arrow yet?” Penelope chuckles, causing you to roll your eyes. “How’s the case going? No one’s called to update me on the gruesome details.” 

You sigh quietly. “Honestly, Pen, you’re lucky.” You tell her. “And what’d you mean by Cupid’s arrow?” 

Penelope groans loudly through the phone, and you can hear her head hitting the keyboard before she apologises to it. “Y/n, how are you so pretty yet oblivious to the attraction of one Spencer Reid?” 

“I, what?” You stumble over your words as you look over your shoulder to see Spencer staring back at you with a small smile on his lips as he waves to you. “I, he, Spencer? No,” You scoff, trying to think about anything else to reduce the spike in your heart rate. 

“I’m no profiler, but I know things,” Penelope states. 

“You’ve got it all wrong, Pen. Sorry to disappoint you, but there is no way he could ever like-” 

“Y/n?” Spencer calls out, now standing in the doorway in front of you. “Hotch wants us to meet him, has a potential lead.” 

“Sorry P, I gotta go.” You tell Penelope before she has the chance to say anything else and hang up the phone. 

Walking alongside Spencer, you can’t help but notice how close he is to you. For someone who is a bit of a germaphobe, he’ll always sit with you before anyone else. During a flight last month with bad turbulence, he held your hand in his as you began to fall asleep, resting your head on his shoulder. You woke up concerned he’d mind, but Spencer just smiled and offered his shoulder any time. 

“So, what’s the lead?” You ask as you walk into the police precinct, finding the rest of your team in a small room as boards with pictures have already been set up. 

“I’ve checked with Garcia about the possibility that whoever is doing this must have some form of access to each of these buildings. There has to be something tying them together,” Prentiss begins. 

“Like a cleaning company, or security?” JJ suggests. 

Emily nods before grabbing a file and reading directly from it. “SecureO is a security company based all over Atlanta. They have hundreds of security guards working at various office blocks, department stores, parking lots. You name it, they’ve got people there.” 

“And our unsub works for them?” You question, looking at the file to see the hundreds of names. “How are we supposed to find him?” 

Hotch reaches out to call Garcia. “And here I thought you forgot about me.” Penelope states through the line, and Morgan smiles to himself. 

“Garcia, can you take a look at the employee records for SecureO and crosscheck to see if any of them have criminal records.” Hotch asks as you listen intently to Penelope typing away. 

“Okay, fifty-seven members of staff have criminal records.” Penelope states.

“How about any with troubled pasts? Maybe this guy is using these women as a form of release. He’s not sexually assaulting them, so it’s less likely to be about an ex, maybe it’s more personal.” You suggest, and Spencer scans through the file once again before looking back at the victims on the board.

“You, my pretty might be onto something,” Garcia chirps. “right, there are twelve members of staff who grew up in the foster system. I’m sending their details over to you right as we speak.”

“Wait, Penelope,” Spencer calls out and Hotch raises his head. “how many of those twelve lost family? Basing on their age and strength, he must be at least in his late twenties or early thirties. Try looking up any accidents in the state in the late eighties to early nineties.”

“Thinking he might have never left the state?” Morgan questions, his arms crossed over his chest.

Clearing his throat, Spencer stands taller beside you as you glance up at him with a reassuring smile. “Looking at all these women, they’re all young and pretty. Anyone who grew up in the system is less likely to leave the place they’re comfortable in. If our unsub grew up in Georgia, he would’ve stayed here and have gotten a job at eighteen. SecureO has been around for twelve years, and five of these employees have been around since it began.”

“Okay, I’ll send across anything once I’ve found it.” Penelope speaks up and hangs up the phone.

“Good work, Reid. Let’s go deliver the profile.” Hotch nods as he leads the way out of the room, Rossi patting Spencer’s shoulder as he departs.

“Not too shabby, Doctor.” You nudge Spencer playfully and he softly chuckles as you walk out.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Y/n.” He mutters under his breath as you walk out of earshot.

*

Entering the station the next morning, you looked around as solemn expressions greeted you.

“What’s happened?” You ask, taking a seat beside Spencer who notions to JJ.

“Another victim was found in the early hours of this morning. Amelie Hartnell, twenty, was discovered on top of a dumpster in a back alley below a seven-story abandoned office building.” JJ passes over the file to you as you flick through the images whilst you hold your breath.

“She was only twenty,” You mutter to yourself, unaware of Spencer eyeing you carefully. “there’s something about the carving on her, it isn’t as deep. You can see it’s a lot shallower than the others.” You explain.

“He was in a rush this time.” Morgan states. “But if it was an abandoned building, who was going to see him?”

“I’m not sure,” Hotch mutters. “call Garcia, see if she’s found anything yet about those five employees.” 

“On it. Baby girl,” Morgan comments before exiting the room. 

“You seem tired, Y/n.” Rossi speaks up, and you lift your head up to see the concern in his eyes. “Is something bothering you?” 

Shaking your head, you dismiss the matter as the team look over at you. “I’m fine, just thinking about a few things. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” You tell him, but Spencer can tell there’s something else underlying you’re not saying. “Excuse me, I just need some air.” You mutter before exiting the precinct. 

Watching you walk away, Spencer sighs. “Well, go follow her,” Rossi motions to Spencer who quickly gets up and exits the room. “these kids, I swear.” He mutters to himself once Spencer is out of sight.

As you walk out, you take a deep breath, clearing your thoughts. “Y/n,” Spencer calls out and you turn around, forcing a smile. “something’s clearly bothering you.” He states as you move away to sit on a bench whilst Spencer hovers beside you. 

“When I was growing up, I had a friend, Sylvia,” You start, and Spencer watches as you brush your hands over your pants once more. “she moved to Savannah and we just grew apart, but I’ll never forget her brother, Killian.” 

Spencer sits down beside you, your leg touching his as he reaches out and takes your hand. “Y/n, what was it about Killian?” He questions quietly. 

“He was always there, just watching us.” You mumble, remembering those bright blue eyes always in the background, never leaving you or Sylvia. “But, their parents, they died in a car crash when Sylvia was thirteen, Killian was fourteen.” You begin to explain as you exhale a shaky breath. 

Squeezing Spencer’s hand, he shushes you. “It’s okay, just, take it one memory at a time.” He reassures you as your eyes remain tightly shut. 

“From what I know, Sylvia couldn’t take it, losing her parents,” You swallow the lump in your throat as you open your eyes, focusing on Spencer’s. “she killed herself, by jumping off of the roof of a mall.” 

“Just like the first victim.” Spencer mutters as he quickly stands up. “We gotta tell Hotch.” 

*

“Why didn’t you mention this sooner, Y/n?” Hotch stressed as he frowns at you, but Spencer remains by your side as you keep your focus on the team, eyeing the photos behind Emily. 

“I suppressed a lot of memories from when I was growing up, I forgot all about Killian and Sylvia, but seeing these photos it just made me think back to it all.” You explain, looking around at all of your team. “I’m sorry for holding back.” You apologise, and JJ smiles as she walks over, hugging you lightly. 

“Garcia, can you look up Killian and Sylvia Atwork?” You speak up into the phone and Penelope begins to type rapidly before pausing.

“Oh my god,” She mutters. “Killian has been working at SecureO for ten years. He was employed when he turned eighteen and is in charge of the security footage for various locations.” 

Hotch rises to his feet. “We have to inform the police department and the news outlets, JJ, can you sort a press conference?”

“I’m on it.” JJ states as she begins to call her contacts, taking the call in another room.

“Y/n, we might’ve just had a break in the case because of you, thank you.” Hotch comments and Rossi gives you a subtle thumbs up. “Garcia, I need you to look at any other buildings that SecureO are in charge of the security systems, see if our unsub is heading to any of these next. If we’re lucky, we’ve got enough time to stop him killing again.”

“Will do, Sir.” Penelope calls out from the phone.

“You think we’ll get him in time?” You speak up, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan.

“Hopefully.” Hotch sighs and JJ walks back in.

“Ready when you are, Hotch.”

* The plan was simple, and it should’ve been effective. All of you were teamed off into pairs. Prentiss and Morgan, JJ and Rossi, Hotch and the chief of police whilst you went with Reid.

“I’m proud of you, Y/n.” Spencer mutters as you sit beside him in the car on route to the office block about ten minutes west of the station. “Without you, we might not have gotten to this point.”

Spencer can’t help but feel warm inside as you smile up at him. “You think so?”

“I know for a fact.” He states as his hand reaches out to yours as he pulls up to the building. “Just keep an eye out, and don’t do anything stupid.”

“Again.” You add as you close the car door, securing your vest on as the pair of you begin to head up to the roof of the building, you leading the way.

“Any sign, Y//L/N?” Hotch asks through your earpiece.

Looking around, you keep your gun extended in front of you as you quietly open the door to the roof. “Negative.” You state, turning the corner as you continue to search the place whilst Spencer is still coming up the stairs.

“Reid, my dead grandmother could’ve gotten up those stairs faster than you.” You joke playfully as he comes into sight, the sun beginning to set behind you illuminating his hazel eyes as they widen.

“Y/n!” Spencer yells, but you’re too slow to react as an arm is tightly holding your neck whilst a knife is being pressed against your back beneath the vest.

“Long time no see, huh, Y/n?” Killian mutters into your ear as he begins to drag you back as you sight against him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, this can end one of two ways, I prefer to keep this clean.”

“We need back up and medics at 1238 Meadow Lane, I repeat, we need backup. Killian is here, he, he has Y/n.” Saying that through the comms immediately causes his heart to sink as tears fill your eyes.

“We’re coming now,” Hotch announces, and you can hear the sound of sirens across the city as Killian drags you toward the edge of the roof with you in front of him.

“Spence,” You focus on Spencer’s face as his gun remains out, directed at Killian’s head. “what are the statistics of surviving this?” You ask him as a tear falls down your cheek.

“Y/n,” Spencer starts, but you shake your head as you fight against Killian, taking shallow breaths as he continues to apply pressure to your windpipe.

“Please,” You breathe out as Killian chuckles against you. “I need to know.”

The truth of the matter is you know your odds of making it out alive are slim to none, but you wanted to hear Spencer ramble one last time. 

“From a building like this, a ten-story drop your odds aren’t great, in fact, falls from ten-story buildings have a 90% chance of death.” He explains, his gun now shaking in his hand as he pictures you on the ground below, bleeding out. “Those, those who survive can be paralysed if they land on their backs, permanent brain damage from skull fractures or,” Spencer stops himself as Killian focuses on him.

“Do finish Doctor Reid, I’m enjoying this.” Killian states, and you shudder at the fact he’s finding this entertaining.

“In cases like Sylvia, she survived but was left to bleed out.” Spencer finishes, and your eyes widen. “You see, Sylvia wasn’t suicidal like we thought. She was just in the wrong place, wasn’t she, Killian?” Spencer steps closer, but you wince as you can feel the knife starting to pierce your skin.

“No, Sylvia killed herself. I, I saw it.” Killian yells, tightening his grip around your neck as your hands lie limply by your sides. “I would never hurt her.”

“Not intentionally,” Spencer comments. “you were playing, and you knocked her, didn’t you?”

Killian shakes his head. “No! She jumped!” You can feel his heart beating against you. “She jumped and never said goodbye, she left me all alone.” He cries out.

“Killian, I’m sorry.” You manage to say. “It wasn’t your, your fault.”

“She left me here.” He spits at you. “Everyone else moved on, but I was left with the guilt.”

“There’s always another way, Killian.” You speak softly, focusing on Spencer. “But if this is it,” You start, but Spencer shakes his head. “Spencer, I’m so sorry.” You let your tears fall freely down your cheeks as Spencer steps closer.

“Y/n, don’t do this.” Spencer tells you.

“I love you Spence, but please, please be strong for me.” You can feel yourself beginning to slip out of consciousness as Killian continues to apply more pressure around your neck.

“There’s another way out, Killian. I promise you, just let Y/n go.” Spencer is yelling at the top of his lungs as Killian simply laughs.

“You think there’s another option? You sure you’re a Doctor, kid?” Killian scoffs.

“It’ll be okay, Spence,” You fight against the unsubs hold as his arm remains pressed against your neck. “just, don’t give up.”

“Please, let her go!” You can hear the crack in his voice as his gun shakes in his grip, his eyes not leaving yours as tears pool. “You don’t have to do this, there’s another choice for you.”

The unsub scoffs as you wince at he breathes into your ear. “This ends with you.”

Closing your eyes, you embrace the feeling as Killian falls backwards, taking you with him.

“NO!” Spencer screams, running over as Killian lets go of you at the last second.

Spencer grabs a hold of your hand, but within a split second, it slips. “Spence,” You cry out as you hang on to the ledge of the building with all your might.

The sound of Killian hitting the floor only worsens your fear as Spencer begins to pull you up. All you can hear is the sound of your heart in your ears as the sirens dull behind you whilst Spencer is yelling in front of you, yet you can’t hear any of it. 

“Come on, Y/n, stay with me!” Spencer screams as another pair of hands appear by his side.

“Come on, we’ve got you.” Hotch states, pulling you up with Spencer and away from the ledge.

Immediately you fall into Spencer’s arms, your hands gripping his arms as you sob into his chest. “It’s okay, I’m not letting go.” Spencer holds you tightly as he looks up at Hotch, his expression saying more than words can.

“We need a medic!” Hotch yells as three men appear, checking over you as you remain sat with Spencer on the roof, far away from the ledge.

“You’re okay,” Spencer tells you as you go quiet, going into shock as the medics help you out from the building and into the ambulance as your team stands by.

“Oh thank god.” JJ blurts out as Spencer exits the building, enveloping him into a tight hug. “Are you alright?” She checks as she pulls away, but Spencer can’t help himself as he focuses on you in the back of the ambulance, wrapped in foil as the medics check you over.

JJ follows Spencer’s gaze and can’t help but force back her smile.

“Go on, you should be with her.” She assures him, but Spencer pauses.

“Y/n told me she loves me.” Spencer quietly tells JJ who quirks an eyebrow. “You, you knew didn’t you?”

JJ chuckles under her breath. “Spence, we all knew. But she doesn’t know you love her too, does she?”

Spencer shakes his head as he glances back over to you, seeing you being given the all-clear as you begin to rise to your feet.

Immediately, Spencer darts over to help you, his hand resting on your waist as you look up at him. “Spence, I,” You stumble over your words, watching as Killian’s body is being transported away in the body bag.

“Hey, don’t focus on that,” Spencer rests his hand on your cheek. “you’re alive, and I guess you beat the statistic.” He states, listening as you laugh lightly.

“Probably because I didn’t fall.” You add.

“But you almost did, and, and I would never have had the chance to tell you this,” Spencer tells you.

“Tell me what?” You ask, looking up at him with hesitation.

Spencer opens his mouth and after exactly three years, two months and nine days of knowing you and falling in love with you, he cannot find the right words to string together. “In the English language. there are 171,476 words. I’ve only ever needed three of them to tell you how I feel, but I can’t even do that properly.” He laughs uneasily as he focuses on you.

Lifting your hand up, you rest it on the back of his neck as you rise to your tiptoes. “Is this okay?” You whisper.

“More than okay,” Spencer responds before his lips are on yours.

You can hear Rossi cheering in the background as Hotch tries to shush them all but secretly is proud of you both. Having seen the way you gripped Spencer’s shirt when he saved you on that roof, he knew it was about time something would finally happen.

Pulling away from the kiss, you laugh lightly. “I take it the feeling is reciprocated then?” You question, and Spencer smiles.

“I’m never letting you go again.” He mumbles into you as you rest your head against his chest, hoping that promise will remain intact.

[sweetmidnights]

My depression is in full force today and honestly I just wish I could lay in Emily's arms for a bit

hi nonnie love. honestly, so is mine and my brain fog is the size of kansas.

imagine coming home after a long day of work, of classes, of whatever it is keeping you busy today, thinking that emily is still away on a case. you're weary, exhaustion aching down to your core. on your agenda this evening is feeding sergio, yourself, and your addiction to media entertainment. nothing more, nothing less, until you crawl into your empty bed for the tenth night in a row.

but, when you open the door, sergio isn't waiting to tangle himself in your legs-- a long standing tradition for when the feline can hear your key scratching in the lock. confused, you quickly lock the door behind you and move into your home and that's when you see her. emily. standing at the stove in your perfectly designed kitchen, stirring at a pot of what smells like your favorite food.

"hi, love, how was your day?" emily says, not yet sparing a glance in your direction as she removes sergio from the counter for what you assume is at least his third attempt at stealing from the hot stove.

tears water in your eyes, though they may not have a specific cause. days like today weren't uncommon for you and all the energy you could muster culminates into snaking your hands around her waist and placing your forehead on the back of her shoulder.

with a flick of her wrist, emily immediately turns off the burners, moving so that she could hold you close. tucking your nose in her neck, you feel emily's hand snake up your back to tangle in your hair, holding you close and rocking you gently back and forth.

"are you hungry, baby?" emily asks, murmuring against your hair before placing a soft kiss that leaves some dusty rose lipstick behind.

you shake your head. your stomach has been angry with you all day long for not eating but you just couldn't find the energy to eat.

"tired," you mumble against her skin. you feel more than hear emily's sigh. it's not one of frustration but one concern for her lovely, lovely partner.

"why don't we lay down for a while? and we can eat some later, yeah?"

this garners a nod of your head and emily covers her dishes of food and then pulls you by your hand to the dark, fluffy couch you had just bought together. she lays down first, propping a pillow behind her head. then, you climb on top of her, snuggling into her chest. you and emily had been together so long at this point that any doubt about your body or your size is long gone. emily taught you that it's okay to be held and that it makes her feel comfortable and secure to hold you the way she does.

you stay like this for at least an hour, maybe more. emily sings to you, tells you stories of being a rebellious teenager in foreign countries, and even fantasizes with you about what your future will look like. it's everything you need for this horrible, terrible, depression-overwhelmed day.

it almost seems magical, too good to be true, the way that emily helps to heal your wounds. they may never close entirely, but that woman is a salve made by god herself to soothe your raw, aching body.

taglist: @morcias // @storiesofsvu // @ssa-sapphic // @demisicle // @prentisspoppet // @ssajemilyprentiss // @alexbllake // @prentissology // @agcntemily // @sapphicalexblake // @temilyrights // @maxinish // @the-fallen-left-stars // @none2434 // @illbeyourgg // @5raysofsunshine // @hippiemuppet // @sapphic-stress // @imaslutforemilyprentiss // @emilyprentisslittlewhore

[megan0013]

piggybacking off the ideas in this post about villain!emilie making a wish using the ladybug and cat miraculous to, basically, trade lives with nathalie (who is adrien’s mother and married to gabriel).

one random tuesday afternoon adrien sticks his head into the atelier and asks nathalie if she knows where any of his old baby pictures are. “it’s for a school science project,” he explains, leaning casually against the doorway. “we’re talking about dna and genetics. i’m supposed to compare myself to my parents, but all the photos i’ve found are already in frames.”

nathalie thinks about it for a moment. “there should be some in one of the rooms upstairs your parents use for storage. do you want me to help you look?”

he grins and nods.

an hour later, the two of them are sifting through boxes upon boxes of old photographs. most are from emilie’s younger years – pictures of her and amélie on various beaches, headshots and old magazine spreads, cutouts from newspaper articles – or the early days of her relationship with gabriel. there are some newer ones of their family, too, but the pictures adrien is really looking for are pushed further back into the room, almost hidden in the clutter.

a dusty, dingy box wedged way in the back catches adrien’s eye that he has to climb over a chair and wiggle through some long-forgotten fabric samples to reach, but it’s more than worth the trouble when he pulls off the lid to find a bunch of his father’s old sketches. each one is dated on the bottom corner, with the most recent at the top of the stack in regressing order, and the first few adrien pulls out are black-and-white portraits of himself at age two. the next is a charcoal of him eating ice cream on a park bench, and after that is a full-color painting of him laying on the floor with crayons in his hands.

wait.

why is his hair two shades darker than the photos he looked at earlier? why are his eyes blue? and why is the next drawing he sees a sketch of him and nathalie curled together on a rocking chair when he knows she wasn’t hired until he was four?

he scoops out a third of the pages and freezes.

the sketch at the top of the pile left in the box is a full-body profile of nathalie standing in front of an ornate crib. her chin is tilted down and there’s a soft, adoring smile on her face as she gazes at the stuffed cat she’s holding on top of her rather prominent baby bump. it’s dated three weeks before he was born.

“nathalie?” adrien hesitantly calls over his shoulder. “you don’t have any kids, do you?”

“no,” she snorts.

“you’re sure?”

she rolls her eyes. “i think i’d know if i had a child, adrien.”

“okay…” his heart beats hard in his chest. “then what are all these?”

nathalie sighs and sets down the wedding album she’d been looking at, then navigates her way through the maze of boxes, frames, and fabric to adrien’s side. “alright. what are you…” she trails off, eyes going wide when she notices the finer details of the drawing in his hands.

“here,” adrien says and shoves the sketches he’s holding at her. “there’s more.”

she flips through them one by one, her expression becoming more and more alarmed with each new drawing she sees. there’s one of adrien as a baby nestled in her arms, and of her sitting in front of the vanity in gabriel’s room with a bassinet by her side, and of a tiny newborn dozing away on her chest as she rests in a hospital bed.

how? why?

adrien hands her another stack and this time she’s staring down at a very rough sketch of herself standing on a pedestal in front of a massive trifold mirror, a shy smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she inspects her reflection. she’s wearing emilie’s wedding dress.

no.

no, not emilie’s wedding dress.

her wedding dress.

the wedding dress gabriel designed just for her and worked so meticulously on for months. the wedding dress he’d had to let out at the last minute because she’d started showing, seemingly, overnight. the wedding dress she’d worn when she married the love of her life…

and just like that, the floodgates open up and nathalie remembers.

she remembers emilie showing up on their doorstep one cold, snowy night. she remembers how they invited her into the dining room because adrien had fallen asleep in the parlor watching his favorite christmas cartoons. she remembers hearing all about a trip to tibet, and a burnt monastery, and the four mysterious jewels that had been found in the wreckage. she remembers the tired look on her husband’s face and the way he’d sighed, “emilie, please. don’t tell me you still believe in those old fairy tales?”

“they’re not fairy tales,” emilie had said as two little creatures suddenly appeared beside her. “and they are going to give me the life she stole from me. tikki, plagg – unite!”

oh, god.

she remembers everything.

“adrien,” nathalie gasps. “go find your father. now.”

[sequinsmile-x]

I am a super fan of Theo Hotchner so can I ask a short fan fic (not so short 😂😂😂😂) so fluffy about him and emily bc i love them omg

I will never be able to express how much it means to me that you guys love this version of them that I have created <3

Endless Days

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: None.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut!

Let me know what you think

“Are you sure it’s ok if I go?”

Emily looks over at her husband, a fond smile on her face as she paces with Theo in her arms. The 8 month old baby was cranky, face bright red from his fever and his almost continuous crying. Emily was doing her best to soothe her son, her lips pressed against the side of his head as she shushes him, her hand running up and down his back.

“Aaron, you and Jack have been planning to go for months.” She says, continuing to pace their bedroom as she tries to get their baby off to sleep. “We’ll be ok for a few days.”

He nods but still looks unsure, his eyes fixed on Theo as the little boy allbut tries to crawl under his mother’s skin. Wanting to be as close to her as possible, seeking out the comfort only she could give him.

“It’s only 3 days, honey.” Emily says, walking over to Aaron and resting a hand on his arm. “We’ll be ok.” She leans up to kiss him, her bare feet highlighting their slight height difference. “It’s important for Jack. And you.”

She was the one who found out about the camp, a 3 day residential trip for young children who had lost someone close to them. Designed to help them process their grief, and provide their parents with advice on how to help them through it. Aaron was going with him, and Emily hoped they’d both gain something from it, both of them still floundering at times with the hole Haley had left in their lives. A wound Emily knew would never completely heal, but was something they could, and slowly were, rebuilding their lives around.

Jack was more open with it. Storming into the house and up to his room crying, only for Emily to find a slip in his school bag about preparations for Mother’s Day. He had struggled when Emily went back to work after having Theo, overly anxious when she was away for days at a time. The relief on his face when she walked back into the house was as palpable as his hugs were tight.

Aaron struggled. Grief for a woman who had long since left him behind, her sudden departure not long before their would-be wedding tainting all the memories that came before it. Her reappearance and the circumstances around it made it even harder on him.

He admitted to Emily once, wrapped around his wife in their bed as they watched Theo sleep, that he felt like he didn’t deserve to mourn Haley. That he was happy, that he loved Emily and had done for years, and somehow that made missing Haley as much as he did feel wrong.

“Ok, but call if anything gets worse?” He says, finally putting the shirt in his hands in the bag on their bed.

“You won’t have any cell service.” She reminds him, looking down to see Theo had finally fallen asleep in her arms. “It will be fine.” She presses a kiss against Aaron’s cheek. “Now hurry up, Jack is probably waiting by the door.”

Emily walks to Theo’s nursery and lays him down, gently closing the door behind her as she leaves, baby monitor in hand as she descends the stairs. She smiles as she sees Jack excitedly standing by the front door, his bag packed as he waits for Aaron.

“Are you excited, Jack?” She asks, placing the baby monitor down as she approaches him.

Jack nods, practically vibrating with a mix of nerves and excitement. “Is Dad almost ready?”

“He’s just coming now.”

“Is Theo ok?” He asks with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowing.

“He’ll be ok sweetheart I promise.” Emily answers reassuringly, knowing as soon as anyone even sniffed around him Jack panicked. Concerns that something was seriously wrong almost paralysing him with fear, a hangover from Haley’s illness and subsequent death that Emily hoped would fade with time.

“Are you sure?” He asks, avoiding eye contact. Emily closes the distance between them and tilts his chin so he’s looking up at her.

“Have I ever lied to you before?” She says gently, smiling when his response is a shake of his head. “He’ll be back to normal when you get back, crawling all over you whilst you try to play your video games.”

“We don’t have to go.” Jack murmurs as he hugs her, his face buried in her shirt. Emily holds him tightly, her heart cracking in her chest at his suggestion. Love flooding through her for this sweet little boy and the woman who raised him by herself for the first 9 years of his life.

“That’s very sweet, Jack.” She says, kissing the top of his head and running her fingers through his hair. “But we’ll be ok.” She pulls back and looks at him, his face cupped in her hands. “You and Dad should go have fun, ok?”

He nods in response and she smiles, pulling him back in for a hug as she hears Aaron walking down the stairs. Emily hugs them both as they leave, finding herself missing them almost as soon as the door closes behind them.

Theo’s cries crackle down the baby monitor, making her sigh as she turns away from the front door.

“I’m coming baby.”

_______

She hardly sleeps. Theo’s fever briefly got worse overnight, and she was only able to get it down by putting him in a lukewarm bath. He was too uncomfortable to sleep, the baby tylenol she gave him barely taking the edge off.

By the time she gets to the BAU she’s exhausted. Her son in her arms after his daycare refused to take him, meaning she had no choice but to take him to work with her and hope he’d sleep in her office.Emily readjusts Theo on her hip as the elevator doors open. The little boy coughs and grumbles, burying his face into his mother’s neck.

“I know, honey.” She placates, kissing the top of his head as she walks through the glass doors of the bullpen.

“Starting him off young in the family business, Prentiss?” Derek asks, a smirk on his face as she walks past his desk. Emily scoffs in response.

“No. Aaron is away and his daycare won’t take him because he’s got a temperature. So he’s Mommy’s assistant today, huh?” She directs the last bit to Theo, bouncing him slightly to try and make him smile. The 8 month old buries his face into her neck again, the heat of his forehead against her skin making her worry, she looks back at Derek with an apologetic look on her face. “He’s grouchy when he’s sick.”

“I wonder where he gets that from.” Derek says, clearing his throat as Emily raises an eyebrow at him. “Obviously I mean Hotch.”

“Nice save.” Emily deadpans as she moves past him, walking up the stairs to her office.

_______

“I heard we had a visitor today!”

Emily looks up at the sound of Penelope’s voice, her excitable friend standing at her office door, her hands clasped together. She smiles at her before looking back to her son who was cuddled up in her lap, his hands occupied by a toy she had managed to distract him with. Emily had one hand securing him to her, and the other filling out paperwork, the process taking much longer than it usually would.

“He’s too sick for daycare.” Emily explains, she hesitates for a second before looking back at her friend. “I have a meeting and I-”

“Of course I’ll take him.” Penelope says, not even waiting for Emily to ask the question. She walks into the office with her hands stretched out, joy written all over her face.

“Are you sure?” Emily says, kissing her son’s head as she relinquished her grip on him. “He’s really grumpy, he might give you a hard time.”

“If I can put up with Derek’s mood swings I can handle anything this delicious little thing might throw at me.” Penelope says, lifting the baby into her arms. Theo grumbles, reaching back out for Emily almost immediately. “You come by when you’re done. Little Teddy Bear and I will be hanging out in my office.”

An hour and a half later Emily walks into Penelope’s office to find her son giggling at something the other woman was doing and she can’t help but smile, grateful that her little boy had so many people in his life who loved him.

_______

Emily yawns as she paces her bedroom, Theo wailing in her arms. She looks over at the clock on her nightstand and sees it’s 3am and she sighs.

“I know, sweet boy.” She murmurs against his forehead, her hand running up and down his back. “You’ll feel better soon I promise.”

She finally manages to get him to sleep again, a silent promise to herself that she’d call the pediatrician in the morning if he wasn’t any better. She briefly considers calling Aaron, but remembers he’d have no service, that any missed calls he’d see if they came through would do nothing but panic him unnecessarily.

She settles Theo down on Aaron’s side of the bed before laying down herself, settling under the covers and scooping her son back into her arms, the little boy snuggled against her chest.

She sleeps fitfully, thankful when morning comes and Theo’s temperature is closer to normal than it has been in days.

She successfully ignores the pounding in her own head that she wakes up with, the way she can’t quite stay warm.

_______

The house is quiet when Aaron and Jack get home, both tired from the weekend they’d had. Aaron locks the door behind them as they walk in, their bags dumped on the floor just inside the foyer.

Aaron smiles as he looks over at his son, the young boy trying to suppress a yawn.

“Go straight to bed, buddy.” He says, smiling as Jack nods without argument, making a move to walk upstairs before turning and giving Aaron a hug, his arms tight around his middle.

“I had fun, Dad.”

“Me too, Jack.” He squeezes Jack tightly before letting go. “Now go to bed.”

“Love you.” Jack says, turning to walk upstairs.

“Love you too, Jack.”

Aaron puts their bags in the laundry room, knowing Emily well enough to know she’d complain about the smell of campfire immediately in the morning, and makes his way upstairs. He smiles when he walks into his bedroom, finding Emily and Theo curled up together in their bed, neither quite asleep but most of the way there.

“Hey.” Emily croaks, her voice cracking.

“Hey.” He replies, moving to sit on her side of the bed. He puts his hand on her forehead and winces at the heat coming off of it.

“I’m glad you’re home.” She says, batting his hand away. “I missed you.” She scratches her fingers down his cheeks, catching on the stubble that had formed whilst he was gone. “I like the beard.”

“Jack hates it.” He catches her hand and kisses her palm. “I missed you too, how are you both?”

“I’m fine.” She says, looking down at a now sleeping Theo on her chest. “Theo is mostly better, just a little bit of a cough now.”

“Em.” He raises an eyebrow at her, and she frowns at him.

“What?”

“You clearly have whatever he had.”

“What? No, I'm ok.” She says, trying and failing to cover a sniff.

“Sweetheart, you’re pale even for you.” He laughs when she pushes her knee into his thigh, his hand coming to rest on the joint over the bed covers. “You’ve got a temperature, you sound like you’ve swallowed a razor blade and you haven’t even complained about the smell of campfire so I’m assuming you can’t smell me.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Fine, yes. I don’t feel 100%.”

He leans forward and kisses the top of her head, a smile against her hairline, before he pulls back. He eases Theo off of her, kissing his son as he settles him into his arms.

“I’ll go put him down, then I’ll shower quickly and come lay with you.” He says, giving Emily a moment to kiss Theo goodnight before he stands up.

He gets Theo down without any fuss, the baby staying asleep as he is taken to his own room. Aaron puts his head into Jack’s room and sees that the boy is already fast asleep, face pressed into his pillow as he snores.

Emily is sleeping when he gets back into their bedroom, and he quickly showers before joining her in bed. She wakes as he settles behind her, and she turns to curl into his arms, her feverish skin pressed up against him.

“Did you have fun?” She asks, her nose buried into his neck, as if she was seeking out his scent even though she was congested.

“It was good, Jack enjoyed it. Made a lot of friends.” He strokes up and down her back, his hand finding its way under a shirt that used to be his. “You should probably stay home tomorrow.”

“I’ll be ok. You’re here now.”

Aaron smiles, knowing the time to argue would be the morning when she’d insist on going to work when she could barely move.

“I really did miss you, it was only a couple days. But not being able to talk at all made it feel like forever.” He says quietly, almost whispering so he doesn't make the headache he assumes she has worse.

“I know.” She mumbles, half asleep. “No more going places where we can’t call each other.” She buries herself deeper into his embrace. “Never again.”

“Never again.”

[yannowhatigiveup]

T.W.A.A: The Eccedentesiast

This is a one shot I started last night and I finished it at around 2 am because I’m an insomniac. Sadly this isn’t the 10k+ word one shot I was talking about (I’m still writing it aaa) but this one is around 4-5k words long so I hope you enjoy. This is rushed, badly written, badly plotted and badly named.

TW: Dark topics such as sexual assault and suicide is mentioned in this piece of writing.

Paris, the City of Love, what a big misconception that was. If anything, Paris should've been labeled as the City of Misery considering the fact it was haunted by a villain who preyed on negative emotions. No one outside of Paris knew though, they were oblivious to the fact hundreds, thousands even millions had died in the city home to the Eiffel Tower, only to be resurrected and tormented with the memories of their death. It was worse for Marinette though, she had watched all the citizens, her beloved citizens, die before her eyes and she was powerless to help them. Their screams of anguish and cries of pain forever ghosted her nightmares. It wasn't just their blood that she drowned in, she was bullied, abused and betrayed in her civilian form by those she trusted the most.

Her classmates. She thought she could trust them but they left her for someone shinier and newer. They all hurt her, destroyed her hard work, verbally and physically bullied her. Nino and Kim, her childhood friends had turned their backs on her too, even joining the others in causing her physical and emotional pain. Alya, her best friend, had become her main abuser. The reporter stabbed the poor bluenette in the back, figuratively. Lila was the one who did it literally. Lila, the sound of the name itself made Marinette sick, after all, the brunette was the one who did this to her. She made her friends turn their backs on her, she made them abuse her and she only watched with fake crocodile tears and a smug smile when no one was looking. And Adrien, he was the worst of all. When Marinette was younger, Adrien was the embodiment of perfection. But now? All she could see was a spineless coward and a predator.

As Chat Noir, he wouldn't participate in the battles, only flirting with her hero persona. He would whine like a toddler when she rejected his advancements. Even when he did join in the battles, he was useless, ignoring anything that Ladybug would tell him and go straight for the kill which never worked. Chat Noir was incompetent and a sexual harasser. As Adrien, however, he was much more. Just two days ago, he had tried to sexually assault the young bluenette. The blonde had underestimated the girl and she managed to get away but nothing could erase her memory of the event.

The ultimatum Lila had delivered to Marinette when she thirteen seemed over-dramatic and seemingly impossible at the time. Yet three years later, she was at the point of no return. Her classmates, her friends, her teachers, the boy she once loved, her partner, her parents. They all left her. Mayor Bourgeois, fearing for his daughter's safety, had sent Chloe to New York with her mother. Luka was on tour with his father so they could build a better relationship. Kagami had a family affair back in Japan that would last for at least a month. She was truly alone. Her parents had fallen victim to Lila's lies and Marinette overheard them discussing about kicking her out. The only one by her side throughout the whole ordeal was Tikki, her beloved kwami. Even Master Fu had to leave her.

Marinette felt shut out by the rest of the world. Sure, Paris adored Ladybug but it felt different. She was fighting battles alone, she stood as the last survivor, the last protector of Paris. She took that title in stride, or that's what the Parisians thought. In reality, she was hiding behind a mask.

The bluenette had suffered endlessly for years, she was ready to break that cycle of torture. Yesterday, she came to the solid conclusion of who Hawkmoth was, who is accomplices were and what his motive was. Gabriel Agreste was the man behind Paris' torment, Nathalie Sancœr was one of his accomplices and so was Lila Rossi. For his motive, he wanted to bring his wife back. Marinette understood the pain he was in but she wouldn't go to such extreme lengths as he did. Many years ago, Marinette made a friend, one of her very best friends who she fell for. But she never told anyone who he was, where he came from or even the fact that she met someone. The reason behind this was the fact she witnessed his murder. That death, of all she witnessed, was the most heartbreaking. Even when all these years have passed, she never truly got over his death. His green eyes always lingered her mind.

The bluenette let out an anguished sigh, she was on the Eiffel Tower, admiring the city's skyline despite all its obvious flaws under close inspection. Though Marinette had drastically mentally changed, she would always put on the same mask, she would always portray herself as a regular school girl. This was the one time she felt a little peace in her chaotic excuse for a life. Her blue eyes stared off into the distance, focusing on nothing in particular when she heard footsteps coming from behind. In her peripheral vision, Marinette could see the figure of Gabriel Agreste slowly approaching. Not wanting anything to happen, she made her knowledge of her appearance known.

"I never expected to see you somewhere so public, Monsieur Agreste" Her voice remained neutral. Gabriel didn't flinch meaning that he had expected her to sense his arrival, it made the young girl slightly unnerved but she refused to show it.

"The Eiffel Tower holds the greatest inspiration, as a designer yourself I'm sure you are aware" Marinette was used to his cold voice by now, she kept her guard up reminding herself that this was Hawkmoth was standing a few feet away.

She hummed, putting the two miraculous users in a deathly silence, until she decided to break it. "You know, you could've just asked" The older man raised an eyebrow in confusion but Marinette never looked in his direction, "It would've saved a lot of bloodshed"

Gabriel managed to catch up with what she was saying. "Are you implying that I am Hawkmoth?" He didn't sound offended or defensive, merely curious.

"I'm not implying anything" She replied curtly, then turning to face him. "I am merely stating a fact"

The miraculous user turned away from her, focusing his gaze on the city's skyline once more. "What are you going to do with this knowledge?"

The question confused Marinette, surely he would've attacked her or try to get her to remain silent?

He must've noticed her confusion. "Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't say anything"

Marinette turned her full body towards the taller man, she was going to end Hawkmoth's reign as quickly as she could. "I can heal her"

"What?"

"I can heal her" The bluenette repeated. "Emilie"

Gabriel also turned to face her, his usual cold scowl was replaced with a staggered expression. "Y-you can? Even after all I've done as Hawkmoth?"

Her head twisted back to portrait that was Paris. "To end it all, yes I will"

"Then please, follow me and I promise I will give you my miraculous as well as Mayura's. Just, heal my wife please" His tone changed from intrigued to pleading, Marinette could see that he meant every word.

"Oh don't worry... I will"

~~~

"I did it!" Tim's voice echoed in the Batcave.

"Did what replacement?"

"I found Hawkmoth's identity!"

Around three months ago, Wonder Woman had noticed Green Lantern trying to delete a video. She stopped him before he successfully did the task and watched the video herself, calling a meeting to express her anger about the situation. Most were shaken since they had never seen the Amazonian this livid before. She briefly explained how her mother was once a miraculous user and how powerful these magical jewelry could be. Aqua Man also shared his concerns, revealing that the fall of Atlantis was due to the miraculous. They knew the logical decision was to work on this from outside of Paris, the villain preyed on negative emotions and they had been ignoring the Parisians' calls for help for four years. Their sudden appearance would definitely trigger the heroes. So in the last month, they had gathered files of nearly every person in Paris as well as all the necessary information about every akuma attack. It was tiring for the Bats but they trudged through it anyway.

Damian had taken a special interest in the spotted-heroine specifically, without the knowledge of any of his family members. She appeared similar to a female friend he had made quite some time ago, the one who had witnessed an assassination attempt on him. He saddened him to no end knowing that the friend he loved thought he was dead. The green-eyed boy became one hundred percent convinced that this hero was his friend.

One day, Dick had caught him in the Batcave observing a recently taken image of the Ladybug heroine. His older brother thought that Damian was crushing on the lady and began to tease him as others entered the cave.

"Tt, that's not true" the green-eyed boy retaliated.

"If you don't have a crush on Ladybug then why are you staring at an image of her?" Dick added more information necessary so that his younger brothers could join in on teasing his youngest brother.

The Robin vigilante sighed and brought everyone's attention to the screen. "See that?"

"All I see is this little lady Demon Spawn" Jason's smirk was quickly gone when he noticed Damian's serious expression.

"She's alone" he stated simply and before anyone could get a word in, her explained further. "There is usually a team with her"

Everyone seemed to lean closer to the screen.

"She's fighting alone. Her 'partner' doesn't participate in the battles anymore, he stays on the sidelines, observing" He let the others catch up to what he was saying. "The attacks have been lasting a lot longer than usual, Ladybug leads a super hero team correct? Then why is she fighting alone this time."

"They could have all been killed... We have to go to Paris to help the poor girl" Dick turned to Bruce. "Who knows how much longer she'll last alone fighting a psycho butterfly man!"

Bruce's fatherly instincts were screaming at him from merely looking at the photo. "I'll announce to the League that we'll be joining the fight in Paris"

~~~

Gabriel lead Marinette to his office, Nathalie wearily watching. Just as he was about to open the double doors, his assistant collapsed in uncontrollable coughing. Marinette was much faster than the older man so she got to the woman first. The bluenette carefully put Nathalie down on one of the chairs available while putting her hand on where she thought the assistant would where the peacock brooch. The blue-eyed girl could sense the broken miraculous' energy trapped in the woman so she did the only reasonable thing she could at that moment, she extracted the corrupted magic, healing Nathalie almost instantly. Marinette ignored Gabriel's relieved expression and gestured for him to lead her to Emilie.

"When this is over, I wish to have a restraining order against your son"

"May I ask why?"

"..."

"...I understand, I'll make sure to tell Nathalie"

The older man stopped before a painting of his wife, his fingers reached for the painted shapes and pressed on them, revealing an elevator to which he went down in. Following his motion, Marinette placed her hand on the painting and allowed herself to descend down the mansion. It lead her to a repository with a catwalk which lead to a circular platform covered in luscious greenery. In the middle on the platform was a class-covered cryogenic pod which the sleeping body of Emilie Agreste lay. The bluenette carefully made her way to the glass casket, placing her hand on the transparent material when she finally reached her destination. Focusing all her energy, a red light erupted from her finger tips and it soaked into Emilie's skin. Gabriel opened the pod, carefully watching his wife as Marinette took a step back. Suddenly her eyes fluttered open.

"G-Gabriel, what happened?"

The man didn't reply, he simply hugged the woman of his dreams before turning the the young girl.

"I... Thank you Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, I can give you the miraculous now if-"

"Ladybug will be at the Eiffel Tower soon, I suggest you give the miraculous to her then"

Gabriel nodded and thanked the girl once more as she left. Before she reached the lift that would lead her back up to Gabriel's office, Marinette turned to face the newly reunited couple.

"Enjoy the happiness in your life, Monsieur Agreste, you never know when it may end"

She then turned to leave, not wanting to here what her former idol had to say. When she reached the main floor of the Agreste Mansion, Marinette was greeted by Nathalie. The bluenette acknowledged the assistant with a nod, meaning that Emilie was awake. The assistant let out a sigh of relief and rushed to Adrien's room, not wanting to be around the blonde boy, Marinette promptly left. Once out of the premises of the mansion, she transformed and waited for Gabriel to return the miraculous. What she didn't realise was that the Justice League would also be coming to pay her a visit.

It felt like an eternity, waiting for the miraculous to be handed back to her but the bluenette was patient. She waited four years for this moment, but she had to share the moment alone. It was bittersweet. Soon enough Gabriel arivied, hastily giving Ladybug both the brooches with apologetic eyes and leaving without a word. The spotted heroine presumed that he wanted to get back to his wife and son, she couldn't blame him. Ladybug reached for her yo-yo teary-eyed, she was going to put both miraculous in her weapon before returning them in the miracle box but she stopped when she heard multiple figures approaching where she was standing.

~~~

Batman and his sons were the ones to go to Paris and alert Ladybug of their findings. The five men found themselves in front of the Eiffel Tower, Tim found out that was were the heroes would return to after their patrol.

"We must tell Ladybug right away" Batman pulled out his grappling hook and flung himself to one of the higher levels, all but Robin followed suit.

The vigilante had a feeling to remain on a lower level. He wanted to be reunited with his long lost friend but he couldn't find the words. Simply, he used his grappling hook to bring him onto one of the beams, low enough so he couldn't be seen but high enough to hear any conversation.

"Greetings, Ladybug" His father's voice echoed through the quiet building.

"Monsieur Batman? Wh-what are you doing here?" Her voice sounded almost exactly as he remembered, of course it sounded deeper and more matured but it had a more desolated edge to it.

~~~

"We apologize for not intervening earlier but we didn't know how well we needed to control our emotions" Red Hood watched as Nightwing brushed a hand through his hair nervously.

"But we can help now!" Red Robin's excited voice came out of nowhere, Ladybug looked at the vigilante in surprise. "We found out Hawkmoth's identity so we can finish this once and-"

Ladybug put a single hand up, a small smile on her face, silencing Red Robin's rambling. "That's very considerate of you, all of you" Her gaze landed on each vigilante one at a time. "But I... have things sorted" She pulled out two brooches from behind her back to show the men before putting the miraculous in her yo-yo. "I appreciate all you've done, truly I do. But can I ask one for one more favor?"

"Of course, what is it?" Nightwing asked, clearly wanting the spotted heroine to be gleeful once more.

"Could you... help the other heroes to help the Parisians to heal?"

"It's the least we can do" Batman replied. "Will you be there too?"

"I'm afraid not" Ladybug turned around and leaned forward on the banister. "You know how Hawkmoth prays on negative emotions, so I've had to deal with my emotions in an unhealthy manor but now... Hawkmoth is no more. I can be free"

"Wh-"

"Thank you, truly" Ladybug jumped up on to railing, facing the group of vigilantes. Her sad smile faded as she stared at the floor.

They didn't even get a chance to process what was happening before it did. A bright light surrounded the young hero and they were forced to close their eyes. As the light died down, Red Hood saw a small bluenette. She looked so weak, so pretty, so... fragile. It hurt the vigilante's heart seeing someone like this being the sole protector of Paris with no one by her side.

"Hey little lady-"

"I'm sorry Tikki"

The girl looked at all the vigilantes slowly, mouthing a 'thank you' before letting herself lean backwards.

Gravity took the Parisian heroine and she fell.

A small creature holding something shiny stared in horror as its owner fell."MARINETTE!" The small creature's anguished scream seemed to bring the vigilantes back to reality.

~~~

"MARINETTE!"

Robin's head shot up, that name was all too familiar. Suddenly, he took note of a figure falling fast from above, her raven hair flowing in the wind. Without giving a second thought, he bounded down the ledge he was on, landing on one of the platforms and had his arms out ready to catch the fallen angel. The bluenette was close enough for Robin to grab her and he pulled her in so that her feet landed on the platform, her body still looming over the edge of the building. His brother and father landed not far from him, bounding over to help the bluenette but Robin took no notice of their presence.

"Why didn't you just let me f...all" The girl's voice trailed off as her eyes widened in recognition, the air in her lungs escaped from her lips. "...d-Damian?"

The two friends took no notice at how the vigilantes behind Robin stiffened. Her eyes developed a watery sheen as the situation began to really hit her. Tears threatened to spill as her lip quivered. Robin pulled her away from the ledge and she jumped into his arms, she was heavily touch-starved. Much to his family's surprise, he didn't push her away. In fact, he hugged her back. They heard what she said next.

"I... I thought you were dead, Dami"

"...why? What made you do this, Malaki?"

They didn't hear what she said next as her mumbling was muffled in Robin's chest. Nightwing walked up to the two first, kneeling down to be eye level with the girl.

"Hey Sunshine... we don't know what you've been through but we're willing to help you though it okay?" The girl looked at his sincere gaze, her eyes were so round with innocence, Nightwing thought he would melt.

"I... thank you, I'm sorry for worrying you when I... jumped" No one failed to notice when Robin ran his fingers through the bluenette's hair.

"Don't apologize Little Lady" Red Hood walked over to where Nightwing was kneeling, sitting next to his older brother. "Hawkbitch forced you to bottle up your emotions, you were just strong for too long."

Marinette looked between the two men, a grateful smile on her face while she wiped the tears of pure happiness running down her cheeks. "Thank you, I- this... this is the nicest I've been treated recently"

"If you don't mind me asking," Batman walked over and Marinette felt slightly intimidated you his presence as well as his tone. The dark knight must have noticed this since he cleared his throat and began talking in a softer manner. "What happened to cause you to go to such extremes? You're obligated to not having to talk about it right away if the subject makes you uncomfortable"

"Well I guess I do have to talk about it eventually..."

Recognising the bluenette's discomfort, Red Robin stepped in. In his palm was the shaken kwami who flew straight for Marinette once the vigilante got close enough. "Since you know Robin's identity, and we already sorta know yours, it's only fair if we tell you who we are, right?" He looked at his two older brothers and then at his adoptive father. "My name's Tim Drake nice to meet you"

Marinette was about to take his offered hand when the vigilante she presumed was Red Hood took it instead, "Jason Todd, Robin's most charming and handsome brother" She giggled at Damian's obvious annoyance.

"Well I'm Richard Grayson, Robin's favourite brother, but you can call me Dick" The vigilante in the suit who comforted her first, introduced himself.

"It's nice to meet all of you"

Batman soon came over as well to aquatint with the young heroine, offering out his hand for a handshake. "Bruce Wayne"

She returned the hand shake and brightly smiled, it blinded nearly all those near. "Thank you, Mr Wayne. Wait..." she turned to face Damian, one of her eyebrows raised. "Wayne?"

"I may have failed to mention that part" To Robin's surprise, Marinette started giggling so he huffed in taken offense.

"Sorry it's just- a girl in my class as been boasting about dating you and about the Wayne Family seeing her as their 'honorary member'. I knew she was lying I just didn't know that I would bump into the people she was lying about"

Bruce hummed. "We'll have to do something about this girl you're talking about. In the meantime, why don't you come back to the hotel with us? You and Damian can catch up" The older man saw the hesitation in her eyes but he also saw the willingness that shine through the most. "If you're living in a bad environment then you do have to escape" His sons nodded along.

"I'll come, can I bring some overnight clothes? It's been a long day..."

"Of course, you go get your belongings and you can meet us at the Grand Paris Hotel"

"I... thank you again" She transformed and headed in the direction of her house, leaving Robin at the mercy of his brothers.

"You like her, Brat" Red Robin spoke up first.

Nightwing pretended to wipe his tears. "Baby Bird's all grown up now"

"That means you can't adopt the little Pixie, don't think I haven't seen the adoption papers"

~~~

When Marinette destransformed on her balcony rooftop, she quickly went inside, packed some clothes as well as some essentials. When she was satisfied with her belongings, she gave a macaron to Tikki before heading downstairs where she was met with two disappointed looking parents.

"Is something wrong?"

"We've decided," Tom began. "We're kicking you out for what you've done to your lovely classmate, Lila"

"We don't recognise the person you've become, Marinette. You are not the daughter we raised" Sabine added

"May I pack my things in the morning?" Marinette inquired, her eyes void of emotion. When her parents nodded, she left the bakery and down to the hotel where Damian was waiting in the lobby. As she approached, he took her bag and intertwined their hands together. She blushed at the contact but leaned into his embrace.

When she entered the hotel room she was greeted by the vigilantes who were now changed and unmasked. The bluenette was welcomed with open arms, she felt the warmth in her heart for the first time since Lila's Tyranny. She briefly explained Lila's lies, what she had done to Marinette and how the bluenette was able to protect Paris. She would've carried on longer if it weren't for the hotel phone ringing. It was the receptionist, saying that someone had asked to see Marinette. Confused, she went down with Damian, Jason followed closely behind since he had grown quite attached to the little fairy. Waiting at the front desk as a woman, Damian and Jason recognised her instantly as Mayura. Damian tried to step in front of his friend but she completely ignored their futile attempts to keep her in reach.

"Ah, Hello Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng"

"Hello Nathalie, we're you the one who asked for me?"

"Yes, I just need to clarify a few things"

"Go ahead"

"You're request for the restraining order has been fulfilled" the bluenette nodded, waiting for Gabriel's assistant to continue. "May I ask what did he do to make you request for it?"

The two notices how Marinette stiffened. She contemplated before sighing. "Attempted sexual assault. If you look at the camera footage outside of the Louvre from two days ago, seven pm onwards, you'll see your evidence." Marinette turned away from Nathalie and walked back to Damian who, once in range, pulled her in for a hug.

"I'll never let him near you again, Angel"

~~~

The next day, Bruce had shown up with Marinette at her parents' bakery. Upon hearing about the young bluenette being kicked out, he had asked for her permission for him to be her Guardian until she was old enough to live in her own. Marinette accepted his offer. When they had entered the building, her parents had greeted their customers kindly before recognising Marinette. Bruce turned to the young girl next to him and smiled.

"You go pack your things I'll deal with this" She smiled and bounded upstairs, leaving Bruce to talk with the bakery's owners.

"Hello Sir, how may we help you?" Sabine began, wanting to know who this man was.

"I've come to gain guardianship of your daughter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng"

"Why should we give you guardianship?" Tom asked.

"I'm sure you know the liability for child neglect, Mr Dupain" With his words, both adults seemed to turn white. "I will file the necessary and submit it with the court, I'm sure you'll be willing to give your approval"

Both Marinette and the mystery man left, true they were glad that their mistake of a daughter had gone but they wondered who she had gone with.

~~~

Later that afternoon was a charity event which the Waynes were supposed to attend as they were invited by the mayor himself, the plus side was that the Akuma class would also be attending and they had no clue the Wayne Family would be there.

"...And finally I'd like to thank the Wayne Family for joining us this evening" Mayor Bourgeois finished his speech and all heads turned to the table the Waynes and Marinette were sitting on. As his speech was over, a teenage girl with glass and a very pale brunette came over to the table.

"Hello Mr Wayne, My name's Alya and I'm your honorary daughter's best friend and I was hoping-"

"Marinette" Bruce began, cutting off the aspiring reporter. The Alya girl only then seemed to notice that the bluenette was sitting at the table. "Is this girl you're friend?"

The bluenette took one hard look at Alya before shaking her head, "No"

"Marislut what th-"

"It would be appreciated if you did not talk about my honorary daughter and future daughter-in-law on that manner" Both Damian and Marinette turned red, one much more than the other. "In fact we should be leaving" Bruce and the rest of the family got up. "Miss Rossi, I will not tolerate your lies. You will receive a lawsuit for defamation and slander. Have a good evening" They left, leaving a reporter, a liar and a class speechless.

When they reached the hotel room they finished packing up, they would be leaving that night. Marinette made a few phone calls, telling her friends that she would be moving to Gotham. They had their belongs taken to the limo downstairs and had a few snacks before making their way down. In the lobby were many different people around the bluenette's age, she recognised them as her classmates and continued walking beside Damian until Alex came over.

"Marinette... we're sorry. We understand that you probably won't forgive apps but we wrote you letters anyway" the skater girl gave Marinette a pile of enveloped letters, ones she put in her bag straight away.

"Thank you for your apologies but I don't think I can forgive you just yet, goodbye Alix" the bluenette got in the limo and let out a breath she knew she was holding.

Her eyes glanced out the tinted window, she smiled knowing that she was leaving Paris for a better life. A better life with a friends, a better life with a new family. A better life with Damian.

~Bonus~

The harsh blizzard outside was definitely being felt from inside the manor, leaving a cold and tired Marinette on the couch. Damian, noticing his girlfriend's state, went to grab a blanket to cover both Marinette and himself. She snuggled into the green-eyed boy, taking all the warmth she could get, and slowly she drifted off to sleep. Damian too felt drowsy so soon followed his girlfriend into dreamland.

Jason came in a few moments later to find the sleeping couple, he was then reminded by how tired he was so he went on the couch and leaned his back against his youngest brother, himself too falling victim to slumber.

The next person to walk in was Dick, he had just finished training so he was exhausted. But he couldn't help to coo when he came across the scene in front of him. The eldest son then got on the sofa and carefully leaned against Marinette, similar to what Jason had done with Damian. It didn't take long for him to join them in dozing off.

Tim arrived with a big cup of freshly made coffee, one which he was about to drink until he noticed his siblings all curled up on the couch sleeping. The co-CEO went back to the kitchen, left his cup of coffee then went to grab a blanket to join his family. Wrapping himself in a blanket burrito, Tim placed himself on the floor pressed up against sofa.

When Bruce returned home safely, he went to the main living room to see his children, and his future in-law who was basically his own by now, sleeping soundly with the TV still running. Reaching for the remote, he turned the television off and grabbed his phone to take a picture. He planned on printing it out and having it framed in his study. Bruce sat on one of the armchairs, taking a book to read. If there was peace in the house, he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH40

This is the final chapter in the story! The next chapter will be an epilogue that takes place in the future. Thank you everyone for supporting this story both the remix and the original! I’ll see you all on Monday with the epilogue!

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Chapter 40: The Ghost of You

The air was cold. Marinette had warned him of as much and insisted he put on a scarf before he left, but he should have grabbed a heavier coat. Gray clouds cast a dreary haze over the cemetery—as if the rows of tombs needed anything else to make them more depressing. The first flurries of snow swirled through the air, landing on the sleeves of his sweater and melting into tiny droplets. It wasn’t cold enough to stick yet, but pretty soon Paris would be covered in winter’s white blanket. The yellowing leaves Adrien had seen the last time he was out in the real world had all fallen, leaving the trees barren, naked.

In loving memory of Emilie Agreste. Beloved mother.

He’d kept it simple, focusing on the happy memories instead of the twisted reality. The funeral crew told him he didn’t have to stay, but he insisted while they sealed the tomb. This time he would be sure of where she was. After they finished, Adrien told them he wanted to stick around. None of them questioned it, but they weren’t about to stand in the cold with him. They all probably knew the story anyway.

“Famous fashion designer Gabriel Agreste hides comatose wife in basement while terrorizing the city, son checks into mental hospital.” It had only been on every news station in the city.

Marinette and her parents offered to come with him, and he’d almost taken them up on it. But it had just been him and his mother for most of his life. Maybe that was why he insisted on going alone. For one last time, it was just the two of them.

Adrien ran his fingers over the engraved stone, tracing each letter until his fingers grew numb with the cold. A brisk breeze blew by, and he shivered, huddling down into the warmth of his scarf. The snowfall was picking up, and Adrien had other business to attend to. Messes to clean up.

With one last glance at the tomb, he sighed. “Bye, Mom.”

♪♫♪ Far Too Young to Die ♪♫♪

There were a lot of emotions Adrien should have felt when he arrived at the mansion, but as he stared up at the tall gate, he didn’t feel anything at all. How should he have felt after everything? Sad? He’d had enough of that. Betrayed? Sure. Angry? What would be the point?

The truth of the matter was, he just wanted to bury the past and move on. It was something he’d struggled to come to terms with, but no matter how much he wished it, he couldn’t change what happened. All he could do was press forward into the future and live a good life. A free life. Doing what he wanted with the person he loved by his side. After everything, it sounded pretty nice.

The gray tile and high walls were just as cold and empty as he remembered, the portrait of him and his father still hanging in the foyer. He always hated that picture—a constant reminder that his mother was gone. After all, it’s not like he knew she was only a few meters below him the whole time. How could he? His father never spent time with him, let alone told him his dark and nefarious plans to take over the world.

His bedroom was relatively untouched since the last time he’d been in it. Dust had settled on every surface, and Adrien glanced around with a sigh before setting out to get what he came for. The only things he had interest in taking with him were a few gifts from Marinette, some photos, and a few other important documents and school books. He didn’t have use for anything else, and if he was being honest, looking at everything made his stomach churn.

He sat next to the box on his bed with a sigh, gazing fondly at a framed photo of him and Marinette with their cheeks pressed together, elated smiles stretched on their lips. The one person who had always been in his corner no matter what. His partner. His Ladybug. The girl who taught him to never give up hope. Looking down at their smiling faces reminded him that not everything in life was so dark. He would find happiness again, and this time it would come with freedom. The life he always wanted was finally at his fingertips.

He carried the box down to the foyer, stopping at the base of the stairs to look back over the house he’d grown up in—the house he’d been imprisoned in for so many years. Leaving it behind was bittersweet, and his chest ached at the thought of never returning. It was stupid really. He should have been happy to leave, but part of him still felt a twinge of sadness. Most of the memories he had there were of isolation and loneliness, but when that was all he’d ever known, change seemed so scary. But he’d had a taste of life on the other side, and he didn’t want to look back.

Pursing his lips, he set the box down at the base of the stairs and climbed back up to his room. If this was the last time he’d ever set foot in the house, he might as well enjoy it and do all of the things he wanted to for years. Was it juvenile to throw darts at his father’s portrait in the foyer? Probably, but something about seeing them pierce his stiff cheeks made him feel a little better.

“Do you really hate him this much?” He froze briefly at the voice behind him but threw the next dart after a beat, not bothering to turn around. “He did it all for you, you know. He just wanted you to be happy.”

“Yeah, how’d that turn out for him?” Adrien grunted, aiming another dart. “He kept my mother locked in the basement. I thought she was dead. I’d accepted that, and ya know, he could have just been a father to me, but instead he decided to be a supervillain. He chose to terrorize the city on a daily basis, and now he’s in jail and none of us are happy.”

He turned to face Nathalie with a shrug. Seeing her there shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him. The mansion was just as much her home as it was his.

“How’d you evade the police anyway? Didn’t anyone have any questions for Mayura?” Adrien asked.

“Your father took the full front of the blame for everything. He refused to let me be punished for his mistakes,” Nathalie said. “And he wanted someone to be around to take care of you when you got released.”

Adrien climbed up to retrieve his darts, and Nathalie approached him slowly when he came back down to resume his game.

“You’ve grown in the last few months.” She raised a hand to run her fingers through his hair, but he caught her wrist.

“I’m not a child anymore,” he said coldly. “And I’ve had enough patronizing to last a lifetime.”

Nathalie lowered her arm back to her side with a frown. Adrien turned back to his darts, tossing one right through his father’s eye.

“I’m not the submissive little boy I used to be. I don’t need anyone to take care of me, or have you forgotten who defeated him in the end?” he said, sinking another dart right between his father’s stern eyebrows. “Father didn’t expect me to be on the other end fighting against him. Did he honestly expect me to forgive him just because he was doing it for Mom?”

“He hoped that the end would justify the means,” Nathalie said. “I tried to stop him at first, but-”

“But then you joined him instead?” Adrien quirked a brow.

Nathalie lowered her gaze. “I’ve known your mother and father a long time. You two were his world, and I wanted to help him get her back. I wanted all of you to be happy.”

“I didn’t need my mom back in order to be happy. I needed everyone to stop smothering me and let me be normal for once,” he said. “I lost her when she disappeared too, but I didn’t decide to turn into a super terrorist.”

“He never intended for any of this to happen. Neither of us did.” She bit her lip as tears welled in her eyes. “We love you so much.”

“You should have thought of that before playing with magic you didn’t understand,” Adrien said, landing the last dart directly over his father’s heart and stooping to retrieve his box. “I’ve already closed out the deal on the house. With father in jail and mom dying in a coma, they came to me to decide what to do with it, so I told them to sell the furniture and tear it down. We’re going to use the funds to build a new center for one of Marinette’s charities to help anyone suffering from trauma related to the akumas. I felt it was fitting.”

Nathalie remained quiet as he headed for the door.

“I’m sorry things ended this way, Adrien,” she said.

He paused in the threshold, turning over his shoulder with a frown. “Yeah, me too.”

♪♫♪ Fire N Gold ♪♫♪

Marinette fiddled with the ring on her necklace. The train station wasn’t too packed, most of the morning rush having already passed.

“What if he doesn’t come?” Tikki peeked her head out of Marinette’s coat collar.

“He will. He just had a lot to take care of today,” Marinette said. Plagg averted his gaze, and she brushed his cheek with one finger. “Adrien loves you just as much as you love him. He’ll be here.”

“I don’t care if he comes. I just ate the last of the Camembert you packed, so I hope he brings more is all.” Plagg crossed tiny arms over his chest.

Marinette giggled, rubbing the space between his ears. Although she’d been watching over Plagg for the past three months, his preference was clear, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

When messy blond hair appeared at the terminal, Marinette hopped up from the bench. He jogged over, and Marinette held out her arms, welcoming him with a kiss.

“Hey, am I too late?” He panted.

“Nope, he’s just getting his train pass squared away,” Marinette said. “How did things go?”

“They went.” Adrien shrugged.

“What about Nathalie? Gorilla?” Marinette asked. “Where will they go?”

“Nathalie is smart. She’ll figure something out. As for Gorilla, I know for a fact that he makes pretty good security. I’m sure we can find a place for him,” Adrien said, and when her eyebrows furrowed worriedly, he smiled. “I’m fine. I’m free now. Finally.”

“And what will you do with your newfound freedom?” She rested her chin on his chest.

“I’ve always wanted to see Belize. I’ve heard it’s-”

“Don’t.” Marinette sighed.

“Un-Belizeable.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she gave him a stern look. “But seriously, what do you say? You. Me. Christmas vacation? I think we more than deserve it.”

“That sounds nice.” She leaned against his chest with a sigh.

“You two can go anywhere you want now.” Tikki piped up.

“It’s weird, but I’m going to miss being Ladybug and fighting akumas every day.” Marinette smiled sadly, touching her earrings. “I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.”

“It was an honor having you as my chosen, Marinette. You were an excellent Ladybug.” Tikki flitted up to nuzzle Marinette’s cheek. “I will miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, Tikki.” Marinette cupped her in her hands. “I was happy to be your Ladybug, and I hope that your next chosen feeds you lots of cookies.”

Plagg poked his head out of Marinette’s jacket, floating hesitantly out to hug Adrien’s chest.

“I’m sorry things turned out the way they did, kid. I really hoped your dad would come around for you in the end,” he said softly.

Adrien rubbed the space between his ears with a smile. “Being Chat Noir was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m glad you were my kwami. You helped me feel less lonely all the time, and not to mention, you taught me how to loosen up. I’ll never forget you, Plagg,” Adrien said.

“I’ll never forget you either, Adrien.” Plagg closed his eyes, nuzzling closer. “You’ll always be my Chat Noir.”

Plagg pulled away abruptly, clearing his throat and taking his place next to Tikki. Adrien and Marinette smiled in amusement.

“So, you’ve said your goodbyes.” They turned to Master Fu, standing with his suitcases. “All things must come to an end. You two fought valiantly. I couldn’t have asked for better people to be Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

“Thank you for the opportunity,” Adrien said with a bow.

“Thank you for rising to the occasion.” Master Fu’s smile faded. “I wish there was more I could have done for you. I’m sorry for how the Miraculouses have plagued your life.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Adrien shook his head. “Selfishness outside of my control plagued my life. The Miraculouses saved me. Being Chat Noir made everything more bearable and gave me the courage to reach for my freedom. So truly, thank you.”

“I’m going to miss you.” Marinette stooped down to hug him tightly.

“And I you, my young Ladybug. You have given me so much during your time. You helped me forgive myself for my past mistakes. You gave me hope for the future, and most importantly, you reunited me with the love of my life.” Master Fu placed his hands over hers. “You truly were a miraculous Ladybug, Marinette.”

She smiled, tears welling in her eyes as a voice announced the five-minute warning on his train. The three embraced, their kwamis sandwiched between them.

When they pulled away, Marinette removed her earrings slowly, placing them into a small box. She trailed her fingers over them one last time before handing it to Master Fu. Tikki flitted in for one last hug, snuggling against her cheek as tears streamed down them.

Marinette unclasped the necklace from around her neck, letting the ring slide from the chain into her palm and offering it to Adrien. He picked it up, trailing his thumb over it with a smile.

Placing the ring in the box, he flicked his gaze back up to Plagg who stiffened. “I’m gonna miss you, buddy.” He brushed Plagg’s cheek with his finger.

“Do you think we’ll meet again someday?” Plagg quirked a hopeful brow as Adrien closed the lid.

“If another tragedy like Hawkmoth were to take place, you two can never be Ladybug and Chat Noir again. Knowing your identities would put you both at risk,” Master Fu said, and Plagg slumped. “But in this modern age, it should be fairly easy to keep in touch.”

“Maybe we can visit you and Marianne across the pond sometime.” Marinette suggested. “We can pop over for tea any time.”

“That sounds nice.” Master Fu nodded.

“So this isn’t really goodbye then,” Plagg said. “So there’s absolutely no reason to cry whatsoever because we’re going to see each other again.”

“Of course,” Adrien said.

Plagg peeked an eye open, flitting over to nuzzle Adrien’s cheek one last time.

“Come visit soon, okay?” He blubbered.

Adrien chuckled, holding him close. “I will. I promise.”

Plagg floated back down to Master Fu’s duffle bag where the Miracle Box was neatly packed away.

“Tell Marianne we said hi,” Marinette said as Fu gathered his bags. “And take her out somewhere nice, okay?”

“I will,” Fu said with a laugh. “It’s been 80 years since we first met. That’s quite a long time to wait for a first date.”

“Take care, Master.” Adrien waved.

“I’ll see you both soon,” Fu said.

As he paced to the open doors, Adrien draped an arm over Marinette’s shoulders. They stayed until the last car of the train disappeared through the tunnel before slowly heading home, finally free of their duties as Ladybug and Chat Noir.

♪♫♪ The End of All Things ♪♫♪

“We’re back!” Marinette announced as they walked through the doors of the bakery.

Her parents abandoned what they were doing, moving to greet them with warm smiles. Adrien breathed a sigh, letting the last of his worries wash away. The bakery was warm and inviting, driving out the cold wind. Their smiles were filled with affection and relief, a direct contrast to the stoic greetings he was accustomed to. This was his family now, and not even the harshest cold could penetrate these walls.

“Did you see your friend off?” Mme. Cheng asked.

“Yeah, he’s on his way to London,” Marinette said, stooping to kiss her cheek.

“Is this all you brought from home?” Mme. Cheng flicked her gaze to the single box in Adrien’s hands.

“Everything in that house was bought for me. These mementos are mine.” He shrugged.

“Well, we did prepare a little surprise for you.” M. Dupain grinned, motioning for them to follow as they headed for the stairs.

On the second floor, M. Dupain opened the door to the spare room and gestured Adrien inside, draping an arm over his wife’s shoulders.

“We know you might want to go live with your family in London, but we prepared this for you just in case you wanted to stay. It’s not much, but it’s yours for the time being, if you want it,” he said as Adrien stepped inside the cozy room. “It might seem a little lackluster compared to what you’re used to, but-”

“It’s great.” Adrien turned to him with a smile, tears welling in his eyes. “Thank you for always opening your home to me.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Mme. Cheng cooed, pulling him into her arms. “This place is your home too. You have always been welcome here, so stay as long as you like and know that we love you.”

“Thank you,” he said. “All of you. It means the world to me.”

M. Dupain and Marinette joined in their embrace, and Adrien clung to them tightly. The people who loved him no matter what. His family. The one he’d found for himself, and he was never letting go.

“Now, we do have a few house rules for you two,” M. Dupain said, placing his hands on his hips. “At the end of the night, your bedroom is down here. Is that clear?”

“Of course.” Adrien nodded. “I promise not to do anything to disrespect either of you while I’m staying here.”

“Good.” M. Dupain ruffled his hair.

“We’ll give you a few minutes to get settled in, but we baked a cake to celebrate. It’s upstairs whenever you’re ready.” Mme. Cheng patted his shoulder before they retreated up the stairs, leaving Marinette leaning in his doorway.

“They mean it when they say it, you know,” she said. “They really do love you.”

“I know.” Adrien sat on the bed with a contented sigh. “I’ve always known.”

“Papa is going to be watching us like a hawk,” she said pointedly.

“How will he react to us moving to New York together?” Adrien chuckled. “If Audrey even lasts until the end of the school year.”

“Knowing her, she’ll want to leave that night.” Marinette rolled her eyes, pacing over to sit beside him. He kissed her temple softly when she leaned against his shoulder.

“I’ll follow you to the ends of the Earth, love bug,” he murmured against her hair.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side, chaton.” She brushed his nose with her finger, leaning up to touch her lips to his, and for the first time in his life, Adrien didn’t feel trapped or alone.

He was safe. He was warm. He was home.

[creativeashproductions]

Curiosity // Luke Patterson

Summary: After filling up another journal designed his songbook Luke is left empty handed. With the offer to a shelf of blanket journals is given he’s immediately choosing. But Luke’s curiosity leads him to a discovery. In other words Luke finds Perfect Harmony in Reader’s bedroom.

Requested: Yes by @averyharrypotterlife​ 

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.7 (including lyrics)

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the 5000+ followers whether it was years ago and you didn’t unfollow or in the future. Thank you for enjoying and interacting in something I’ve always loved: writing.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Luke’s always been a curious person going as far back as his early childhood. The most consistent evidence being during the Christmas holidays. Until he was ten, yes, he’s aware that his friends stopped believing in Santa way earlier. The young lad would stay up hidden in the living room waiting to catch Santa. Without fail, Luke would wake up in his outer space planet sheets having fallen asleep in his mission.

When he was twelve years old, he was left at his aunt and uncle’s house for the weekend due to a work-related thing. His older cousin was eighteen at the time and at college, so Luke stayed in his bedroom. Luke couldn’t help but snoop through Bryan’s personal items, and in a drawer with a false bottom, he discovered magazines.

Luke had a lot of fun that weekend diligently going through the magazines his mother would skin his hide even knowing about them. He may have had to use the excuse of having a cold for the entire box of Kleenex missing. No one was the wiser on that weekend.

Now when Luke was fourteen years old, he had snuck into the Rated R film Candyman with Alex and Reggie. Luke’s parents had been strict in their rules and definitely had shot down the question of seeing the film. The three didn’t sleep with the lights out for a month after that, and the truth came out when no lie was sufficient to their concerned parents.

Luke Patterson didn’t care about boundaries. Why ask for permission when you can just ask for forgiveness? It worked with going through Julie’s dream box, but all personal items got hidden from the ghostly guitarist.

“No!” Luke exclaimed flipping through his song journal once more in hopes of a blank page. The frustration in his body snapping the pencil he had been using.

“You good?” You questioned glancing up from the essay you graded as a teacher’s assistant for an AP course. Luke’s frustrated brown met yours with a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ve filled my journal up. I hate using loose-leaf, but no money means no buying things.” Luke roughly scrubbed one hand on his face.

“You could always just forever borrow one from the- “Luke quickly shot that down with a look of absolute horror, “Okay…so stealing a no.”

“I did listen to my parents on certain aspects. I would never steal anything, other than the food when we didn’t have enough cash.” Luke’s brown hue had softened back into the hazel that caused flutters in your heart, “I have no respect for thieves.”

You nodded before scribbling a suggestion on the paper in dark red, “I have a shelf in my room dedicated solely to blank journals. If you want to, you can take one free of charge.”

With a quick smile, Luke disappeared from the room to your personal domain he sometimes hung out with you in. You had no misgivings on the teen finding solace in your room and gave him free rein; your prized possessions hidden very well.

Luke appeared in the soft blue and lilac bedroom with the queen white iron wrought style bed in the middle. A white desk in the corner with a multitude of bookcases and shelves in the room. The desk chair neatly pushed into the desk as well he went straight to the shelf.

Journals of all colours and styles with a label on the shelf noting them as empty. It was packed with dozens, but it was the midnight blue one that called to the boy. In his reach, he bumped an emerald green one off the edge. It opened having hit the edge of the desk.

As he leaned down, he noticed notations in the margins, now remember how Luke is a curious guy? He only hesitated a second before he was reading the pages of words in your signature script.

The guilt flared for a second before he justified it as being on the shelf you declared free game. So Luke settled sitting criss-cross against the side of your bed reading the words so eloquently written. Even notes allowed Luke to hear the melody in his mind.

Assignment: Write a piece of literature from two points of views. Genre doesn’t matter as long as it is a minimum of one page and not exceed eight.

Step into my world

Bittersweet love story ’bout a girl

Shook me to the core

Voice like an angel

I’ve never heard before

The words took his breath away, recalling a moment he gushed to Alex on how he had caught you singing. He had described your voice as being angelic, and it took him by complete surprise. He remembered Julie, and you entered the room shortly after with a nervous feeling if you had heard. Now Luke had his answer. His phantom heart pounded in anticipation for the reply to this first point of view.

Here in front of me

They’re shining so much brighter

Than I have ever seen

Life can be so mean

But when he goes, I know he doesn’t leave

The smile threatened to split his face with the elation as he continued reading with a subconscious hum. His fingers tapping the sides of the paper as his hazel irises tinged green ate up the words.

The truth is finally breaking through

Two worlds collide when I’m with you

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

The world faded as Luke distinctly heard your angelic voice singing the parts he could easily recognize as perfect for you. There was something so powerful in this incredibly personal song only intended for your eyes and your teachers.

The next handful of lines left him breathless and astonished as he visualized not sitting across from each other. But engaging in another art form that can be so incredibly intimate for people; he imagined singing this while holding you in his arms.

You set me free

You and me together is more than chemistry

Love me as I am

I’ll hold your music here inside my hands

We say we’re friends, we play pretend

You’re more to me, we’re everything

Our voices rise and soar so high

 We come to life when we’re

 In perfect harmony

 Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

 Perfect harmony

 Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

 Perfect harmony

Luke went from humming to softly singing to the heartfelt tune with a flutter of butterflies deep in his stomach. When Julie saw Unsaid Emily, he had denied it as an experiment, and it was the truth. Luke wrote rock anthems and rock-pop with his living friend. He never dabbled into romantic ones.

He’d never read something so poetically beautiful it felt him weeping at the sheer amount of feelings.

I feel your rhythm in my heart

Yeah yeah yeah

You are my brightest burning star

Whoah whoah oh

I never knew a love so real (so real)

We’re heaven on earth

Melody and words

When we’re together we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

We say we’re friends (we play pretend)

You’re more to me (we create)

Perfect harmony

His eyes found the last line of the song setting him back in a dead silence returning to the start to reread it. On his third read, he found the notes from your teacher on a separate page.

Y/N, in my years of teaching, I’ve never read something with such meaning behind it. The longing, passion, respect and love you artfully encapsulated is rare. To have written, this means you’ve felt this. No corrects needed, and I felt compelled to not mark on the piece. Thank you for being vulnerable with me, for letting me step inside your mind and please never let this emotion fade.

Your grade is A+.

Luke’s lips pulled apart at the genuine words your teacher had written because it indeed was a word of art. Carefully Luke returned the notebook back to the shelf to retrieve the blue one that caught his attention. AS he turned, he found you leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.

“I am so sor-“

“No.” You replied, walking into the room, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I told you any notebook on that shelf. I can’t get mad, and I’ve seen you can’t leave something half-read.”

“Probably why my book reports were insanely well done in school.” Luke joked as you stepped in his personal space. The tension faded from his shoulders as he took in your features, “You got a perfect grade.”

“I did.” You simply spoke, staring up into his eyes, “You helped me with it.”

“How?”

“You told Alex what you felt about my voice. You looked nervous when I walked in, so I let it go. It wasn’t the time to bring it up. It’s called Perfect Harmony.” You told the ghost gently grazing your fingertips on his hand. The feeling sends shudders down his spine.

“I guess it just wasn’t the right time. With the band and-“

“-the whole soul owning thing. Too much but now that you’ve read that…what do you feel?” You hesitantly asked because reading it and discovering how someone feels is another to if the feelings are reciprocated back.

“That I was always meant to live in 2020. That I was meant to love you with every atom in my very being.” Luke murmured before he crashed his lips onto your own in a searing kiss that had your toe-curling.

The midnight blue journal dropped to the floor as his large calloused hands cupped your face to feel the warmth. The very journal would be filled with songs all about this person, Luke adored not matter his state as a ghost. Two worlds collided just as two souls came together in perfect harmony.

So, wrapped up in each other Luke didn’t notice something magical encased in the warm love. In the bedroom, the two teens were kissing in had two distinct heartbeats with a glow emanating from Luke Patterson.

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