#hes too stupid and too useless to her on every level unless if he was able to give her a ticket to being royalty

[corazondebeskar-reads]

no quiet on this earth

Joel Miller x f!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 10 - killing in self defense | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 2.8k

summary: You and Joel run into hunters on patrol.

-- I'm a fucking menace, and this is Joel & reader from "you know you never stood a chance" (spoiler warning). BUT this can be read as a standalone. I just can't seem to help myself/let them go.

warnings: established relationship, jackson, patrol partners, hunters, Joel and reader both kill hunters, canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of violence, lots of blood, oral (m receiving), p in v unprotected, creampie, feelings, guilt/trauma, trauma response, a little hurt and a LOT of comfort, Joel takes care of you, one (1) ass slap, pussy/clit spanking

dividers by @saradika-graphics

They had been waiting for you. Not the biggest group of hunters that’s come ‘round, but there hadn’t been any signs. It was supposed to be an easy half-day route. 

It was also your first patrol with Joel. 

You’re already off to a rough morning. He’s settled back into Out There Joel, gruff and tense, and you’re already feeling useless again even though you know you can handle it now. 

You’re on horseback, you with a gentle brown mare that you’re a little irritated about. Penny is notoriously slow and usually used to teach people to ride. Tommy taught you to ride ages ago, but Joel fucking insisted. 

“Ain’t havin’ you have to deal with a spooked horse our first time out.”

“Our first time. I’ve been out loads of times,” you grumbled. He leveled you with a look so stern that you rolled your eyes. 

“Don’t start with your smart mouth,” he said. “Only way this works is—“

“If I do what I’m told. I got it. Same shit, different place.” 

To say you’re pissed would be an understatement. You thought after all the shit you’ve been through that he’d trust you now. And you’ve gotten quite good with your revolver and halfway decent with the rifle. 

Now, out here on the trail to the safe house, neither of you has said a word. Just like the good old days. Y’know. If they had been good. 

You’re nearly there when they make their move. They don’t have guns, thank fuckin’ god, but there are five of them and two of you. 

It becomes quickly clear that they want the horses. Joel makes quick work of the first hunter that lunges for him. 

One comes at him from each side, and you’re too worried to notice the other two do the same to you. 

One grabs the reins and the other tries to yank you from the saddle. Your boots are stuck, and they don’t seem to particularly care if they break your legs during the extraction. 

You free your feet, boots left behind, and let the brick house of a man pull you down. He doesn’t care much about your landing, so when you hit the ground, you grapple for your revolver. 

His partner yells, and he spins back to you, a huge fist aiming for your face. But it doesn’t connect, because your bullet does first. 

He was close enough that it would have been near impossible to miss, which also meant that his stupid body landed on you, turning your clothes into a sponge for his blood. 

Joel’s rampaged through the others by now and turns to take down the one trying to abscond with your horse. 

But he doesn’t make the shot, because he freezes up when he sees you. 

“Get the fucking horse,” you yell. 

He swears and loads the rifle, one neat bullet into the head of the escaping hunter. He hadn’t fully mounted your mare yet, and his corpse crumples into the soft spring soil. 

Joel whistles and Penny takes her fucking time to come back, giving him a very unimpressed look and shaking her mane. 

He heaves the dead man off you. “Where?” he says sharply, eyes darting all over your body. 

“Nowhere, Joel, I’m fine,” you say. 

He’s already dropping to his knees, hands gripping and patting every inch of you before cradling your face. “You’re sure?”

“I mean, I think so. Unless I’m in shock, but I guess we’ll find out in a little bit.”

“Not funny, sweetheart,” he mutters, doing another check, slower this time and more thorough. 

You let him. You feel kind of funny, dizzy almost, but mostly just… muted. Like the world around you is muffled and you’re suddenly hyper aware of how blood is turning tacky and your jeans are stiffening as it dries. 

“Hey,” he snaps. 

You’re pretty sure that means he was already talking to you, and when you look up and meet his eyes, they abandon their irritation for concern beneath furrowed brows. 

“Sweetheart, listen to me,” he says, voice low and slow. It draws out the Texan twang and loops you in. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you. You did what you had to do, okay?”

“Okay,” you echo, but the word sticks in your throat, tasting of copper. 

“Say it.”

“I did what I had to do.”

You’ve done as he said, but he looks more worried for it. 

“Alright, c’mon. I’m gettin’ you home.”

“But—“

“Rethink that, baby. I ain’t in the mood to argue.”

“But we were supposed to—“

“Yeah, and plans fuckin’ change. We’re going back. Tommy and I can come out and deal with the bodies later.”

He stands and pulls you up, though you follow willingly. You hover where you stand as he pulls a rope from his bag and tethers it to Penny’s lead. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Want you on Oakley with me.”

“I can ride,” you snap. “I’m not fucking hurt.”

“I know,” Joel says. “But you’re gonna ride with me.”

“Don’t start this shit,” you say, mortified when your voice and hands are trembling. “I can handle myself.”

He spins around, fury written in the curl of his lip. “I fuckin’ know that! I don’t give a shit. You’re riding with me, end of fuckin’ discussion.”

You open your mouth, ready to bite back, but he seizes you by the shoulders and shakes you a little. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ get it? It’s not about you,” he snarls. You’re crushed against him before you realize it’s an embrace. “You’re gonna fuckin’ ride up here, so I know you’re okay.” 

“Oh,” you whisper, leaning into him. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he says, but the fight is already leaving him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head before he lets go. “Now get on the damn horse before I put ya there myself.”

You think you deserve credit for only hesitating a little, tempted to see if he really would. But his jaw ticks and you heave yourself up onto Oakley. Joel swings himself behind you, caging you in as he takes the reins. 

“You’re so fuckin’ stubborn,” he gripes. 

“I learned it by watching you,” you say, voice pitched in mockery of the vague memory. 

But instead of irritation, something akin to relief flashes across his face. “Yeah, s’that right?”

“Uh-huh.” Now that everything has calmed, you’re exhausted. He can tell because of course he can. He knows you too well. 

“C’mon, lean back. I got ya. Not gonna let you fall.”

You don’t sleep, not really, but you fall into something between the light and dark. It’s blissfully absent of reality. You’re only aware of the soft sunshine, the sway of the horse, and Joel. 

Joel, your Joel, is everything right now. All encompassing. You’re surrounded by his warmth and smoky musk, masking the chill and tang of the stains on your skin. 

His heart seems to beat in time with Oakley’s hooves and the steady pace he encourages keeps you lulled in this safest place. 

“Holy shit, what happened?” Carl asks at the gates, almost loud enough to knock you from your peace. 

“Nothin’ too serious, she ain’t hurt,” Joel’s smooth tone settles you back down. “But do me a favor and get the horses back? Send Tommy my way in a while. I’m gonna take her home.”

Home. It sounds so nice. But you’re already there, you want to tell him. There’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here. 

You must actually say it, because he chuckles. “Okay, sweetheart, but I can think of somewhere I’d rather be.”

It hurts a little before he leans in and murmurs in your ear. 

“I’d rather be in a warm bath with ya. That sound better than stayin’ put?”

“Oh,” you say. “Yeah, you’re right. Way better idea.”

He makes good on his promise when you get home. While he draws the water, he peels your ruined clothes off and sits you on the bathroom counter to rinse the blood into the sink. 

You sit very still with your eyes clenched shut as he cleans you. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “First one’s the hardest.”

You can’t quite stopper the whimper. 

“This is part of why I don’t like ya goin’ out there. I can’t protect you from this.” The admission costs him, but he seems to decide it’s worth it when you look up at him. 

The tub isn’t really big enough for both of you, but he makes it work, long sprawling limbs propped up to make room for you against his chest. You lie on your side, both to make more room and to press your ear to his chest and listen to his strong, tender heart. 

He holds you there, hand gentle on your head and the other around your shoulder until neither of you can pretend the water is comfortable still.  More importantly, his cock’s been pressing against you for a little while now, and you’re unable to ignore it anymore.

You roll over on your stomach, legs bent a little funny to fit, but it’s the right angle to press a kiss to the fat mushroom head that you love so much. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t need—”

But you just give him a look, because he knows better, he knows you’d never do anything you don’t want to. And he knows how often you crave it, how your throat aches for it.

He raises his hands in surrender. “I sure as hell ain’t gonna stop ya.” 

With the convoluted seating arrangement, you’re able to swallow down his length, working your throat open in the way you’ve grown to know well. It’s a lot at once, but the way he groans is worth the effort. 

You choke and gag a little, but neither of you are really bothered by it. Quite the opposite. And you’re grateful for the way the thoughts you don’t want to face are knocked from your brain each time he ruts deeper. 

Too soon, though, he’s pulling you off, spit thick with precum stringing between him and your lips as you whine.

“C’mon, let’s get out. I gotta have more of you.”

You don’t dry off quite as much as you’d like, but you’re probably going to need to change the sheets anyway. He can’t be bothered to let you towel off properly, picking you up and setting you on the bed before crawling over your body.

He kisses you, ferocious but hesitant, and you trail your hands up his arms, basking in the way he encompasses you for the second time today. His soft, powerful body leaves no wiggle room, practically pinning you down with his bulk. 

Except he’s holding himself up, tense. And the gentleness of his tongue and distinct lack of nipping teeth in his kiss is grating. 

You turn your head to break apart. “Stop acting like I’m gonna fall apart.” 

“I—”

“Oh, don’t even. It’s like you think I’m going to break if you touch me.”

“I didn’t want to make it feel like…”

“I know,” you say, softer. “But I want to feel you, Joel. I don’t want to feel the ghost of it… him. Please.” 

“You wanna feel me, sweetheart? Want me to be a little rough with ya?” 

“Unless you’re too tired. S’it past your bedtime, old man?” 

He doesn’t fall for the taunt, but he pretends to, and you’re deeply grateful as he snarls and bites at your breast before licking and sucking at your nipple, taking it between his teeth and shaking a little. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, hand tangling into his hair. He wears it a little shaggier these days, and you find you like it long. A lot. 

“Think you can take it just like this?” he says around your other nipple. The hand that isn’t holding him up has reached down to his cock, rubbing it against your clit until you squirm, and then dragging it down your slit. “You’re fuckin’ soaked. I think you can take it.”

He doesn’t wait any longer than the first little nod of your head before he flicks his hips, parting you, forcing your body to make room for him. It takes a second thrust to push all the way in, and you cry out as he stuffs you full. 

It hurts so good. It’s just the edge you need to feel awake again. The world is no less fuzzy but the haze is pleasurable and electric instead of the numb fog that refused to dissipate. 

“That’s my girl,” he says. 

It floods you with warmth. You think maybe the sappiness is leaking through, that he can see how stupidly in love you feel. 

Or, you know, it’s actually leaking, since you’re apparently fucking crying. You can’t really begrudge yourself for it. It’s been a hell of a day. 

“There you go,” he murmurs, the gentleness of his voice playing second to the harsh slap of his hips and the tight pinch of his fingers on your breasts. “Let it out, sweetheart. Let me help you.” 

His pace, somehow, intensifies, the brutal snap of his cock blunt against the softest parts of you. He pushes your legs to your chest so he can shove his way in deeper, and smacks a harsh hand against your ass from his new vantage point. 

He grips your hip with one hand and lets up on your tits, only to show no mercy to your clit. He skips over the gentle circles and soft strokes, instead pinching and tugging. He wrenches two orgasms from you before he eases off. 

“Hold your pussy open for me,” he grunts.

You look at him with wide eyes. How can he still be finding ways to shock you with depravity? The two of you have to have fucked every which way, and yet. You slide a hand down but he shakes his head.

“Both of ‘em, baby. Nice and wide.” 

Your cheeks are burning as he lifts up onto his knees, pushing your legs apart to watch as you spread your lips wide. For a moment, he’s mesmerized by the push and pull of his cock splitting you apart and the way it comes out a little slicker each time. 

“Look at that,” he says, a smug smirk spreading. “Fuckin’ creamin’ all over me, sweetheart. Now hold still.”

Before you really process the order, still dying from how hot his filthy words are, he slaps your clit. You jerk and let go, crying out more in surprise than pain.

“Put your fuckin’ hands back,” he says, and you obey. 

Your whole body is on fire, maybe. He brings his hand down sharply again and again, making you hold yourself spread wide for him to use as he pleases. 

It doesn’t really surprise either of you when you come. He finally knocks your hands away from your cunt and leans back down over you, hips stammering sloppily. 

“Can I—” he chokes out, and you’re nodding so hard it shakes your brain around. He digs his fingers into your hips. “C’mon, sweetheart, one more. Gimmie one more while I fill you up.”

He goes to reach for your clit, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as he starts twitching and pulsing inside you, you come, eyes rolling back and fingernails digging into his biceps. 

When you’ve both settled, there’s something bright in his eyes, something wild and dangerous. He sinks his teeth into your collarbone and doesn’t pull out. His softening cock isn’t much smaller than it is erect, and he stays buried deep in you, eyes trailing over your face. 

“What?” you say softly.

“I thought… thought I fuckin’ lost you today.” His voice is gruff but tight.

“You didn’t, Joel. M’right here.”

He kisses you, and it’s not gentle exactly, not like earlier, but it’s tender and demanding. His hands grip you and roam, not pursuing pleasure but just to have his fill of you, to feel your body warm and alive beneath him. 

When he breaks away from your swollen lips, he presses a kiss to your forehead. “You did good. I don’t like it, but you did good. I’m not gonna ask you not to go out again, but—”

“I’m gonna ask Tommy if I can have a break,” you say, pursing your lips. “I’m not a coward, but I don’t know if I can do that again.” You’re burning again, but this time with shame.

“No one expects you to. It doesn’t mean you’re a coward. You’re tough, sweetheart. But y’ain’t a killer.”

“I am, though,” you whisper. 

“Stop. Yes, you killed that man today. But you had to. It was him or you. You’re a survivor. But I’m going to make damn sure you don’t have to be anymore, alright? We’re safe here, now.”

You let out a ragged sigh and try to relax back into the pillow. “Okay,” you agree. You can tell he needs it. How scared he was. 

At least for now, you’ll let him protect you from this.

*title from "Death For My Birthday" by Say Anything

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hi, may I ask for a matchup? Thank u in advance and don't overwork yourself.

Fandom(s) don't matter, I know most of them so please match me with whoever you see fitting (maybe preferred fandoms are mha and demon slayer but only because I'm rewatching them).

I'm Varya (Varvara), almost 19 y.o., a cisgender straight Russian she/her Capricorn (although I don't believe in astrology). 39 kg/157 cm, I'm anorexic bc of body problems. Luckily, it's not visible since I have some curves. People say I have some Turkish blood in me judging from my appearance. Short straight hair with bangs and black eyes.

Personality-wise, I'm a toxic bitch. Manipulative, I know my worth, and I want to be better than anyone (sometimes this saddens me bc whatever I start doing, is mastered in no time and people around me get depressed. it just... happens ig, I'm a bunch of talent). Most people, if they try to get to know me, think I'm adorable and charming, strangers see me as an Ice Queen. I have a love-hate psycho relationship with myself. Somehow a gentlewoman, but politeness is only worth for people who deserve it, not only bc they're "older" or things like that.

Tbh, I don't have dreams, hobbies, and likes anymore. Well, even during childhood I've never had those. Maybe u can say that video games (shooters, rpg, strategies) and drawing entertain me the most rn but I feel even those things are slowly fading away.

The thing I dislike is being under control. My mom and ex controlled me so much.

In a nutshell, I think I'm a depressed person with God syndrome, bored around others bc I find them overall stupid. Only police and laziness, aloofness keeps me from becoming a serial killer.

lol

Hi Varya! Thank you for your request! I decided to go with My Hero Academia and Demon Slayer since you're rewatching them. Let me know if you'd like matchups with other fandoms. I hope you like your matchups!

In My Hero Academia, I match you with...

Aizawa doesn't really mind that you're manipulative. He's been through his fair share of students that have tried to sway him towards giving them good marks. He's seen every form of manipulation there is.

Does like that you know your worth. I see Aizawa as someone who makes jokes about how useless he is but actually knows his value.

Aizawa won't try to control you. Yes, he'll make suggestions if you're going to do something he thinks is unadvisable. But if you want to go ahead and do it anyway, he won't stop you. Unless you're breaking any major laws. Please don't do that.

Totally gets only being polite to people when they deserve it. He's exactly the same.

He'd be secretly honoured if you show politeness towards him because it means you respect him. But a the same time, he wouldn't respect himself if he was in your shoes so he gets it if you're less polite towards him.

Will keep you from becoming a serial killer. He's basically a super-powered police officer anyway. He doesn't particularly want to arrest you but he'll do it if it's warranted.

In Demon Slayer, I match you with...

Similarly to Aizawa, Rengoku's someone who won't try to control you. He's all about freedom and letting people do what they want. At the same time, don't hurt any of his friends.

Expect him to display a new hobby to you every week until you show interest in one. He's all for hobbies and he's got a long list to go through.

Won't reproach you too harshly if you do end up killing someone (please don't actually do this). His job is killing demons, things that were once humans, so he feels a bit hypocritical tell you off for doing basically the same thing.

He'll match your politeness level. If you're being rude to him, he's dishing it back. If you're being more polite, he's being polite. Most of the time, he tries to stay in your good books.

Another one who appreciates that you know your worth. He's seen a lot of demon slayers that question themselves and it's lead to their death. If you don't doubt yourself, he knows you'll be fine.

[titleknown]

...I feel I may as well add my own story, because... well, while I feel perhaps foolish given my greater level of privilege in this context, I think my experiences/reasoning are different enough to talk about in this context, so anyhoo.

My family was relatively well-off, comfortably what the mainstream would call "middle class," at least my dad and stepmom (Birthmom is... her own story), but they did both grow up poor, which might explain why they're shaped by that sort of pragmatism.

So, I didn't materially want for anything, I never went hungry or was without shelter, but also... nobody cared about any of my interests, and in fact they actively treated them as useless as dead weight.

Dad actively discouraged me from my art and pursuing it as a field of study, which made me stop drawing for years. Every time I did a creative project for school, instead of guiding me, he always took it over in the name of "No, let me do it right!".

When I got into crafting in my later years, he discouraged me because of how it was "useless" compared to his preferred craft of carpentry. He would never go anywhere or get me any resources for any projects I cared about without incessant begging, but I always had to fucking drop everything for his fucking home improvement projects to improve the value of his fucking house.

My stepmom actively talked about how fucked I was if I didn't become more "normal," and traumatized me in too many ways to get into here. She once cornered me in a car to push me about budgeting in a way to specifically discourage me from pursuing my passions.

They both pelted me with potential horror stories of my passions leading to poverty. They resented my action figure collecting as childish and a waste of space. They both thought my special interests were stupid and boring.

They wouldn't actively prevent me from doing it, to be sure, and they would let me live in their house, but they would actively discourage the things I found important and make me drop them every time they wanted something more important to them out of me, making it even harder than what I'd later learn was my own executive dysfunction was already making it.

And they all did it in the name of my own good, because they were terrified of me being homeless and penniless in the pursuit of stuff they found inefficient (Or, probably, ending up as a NEET living on disability like now), even if I'd assert their discouragement and failure to help are why I ended up such a failure.

And... with everything I see from the anticonsumerist crowd, especially the degrowth crowd, they want to do the same shit my parents did towards my interests worldwide, just with a different political theory behind their reasoning on why it's useless.

They, as far as I can tell, want a world where you have all the time in the world to do your things, but unless it's on the level of folk art you'll have to beg and plead to get access to it. Because, you fucking need stuff to make stuff and do stuff. You need artistic supplies, means of production, means of distribution, means of social communication about it, there's no way around that, and stuff is the stuff anti-consumerist people want to create a chokepoint around in the name of efficiency.

In other words, the same shit as under capitalism but in the name of ecology rather than profit. They even do the same conflation of something's material value and its value as an economic commodity, just with the inverse moral judgement of the commodity form.

The people in love with degrowth, citing all the free time we'll have with industry small enough to drown in a bathtub, have never had a nice thing to say about any medium I'm passionate about, thanks to the fact that so much of it is in the digital realm.

At best they say it's ecologically bad enough to need enough chokepoints to leave it comatose and at worst an alienating existential evil to be eliminated. They've had even worse to say about my hobbies of action figure collecting, and more withering damnations for 3d printing.

I have literally heard one of these people say that the concept of "emerging technologies" is a capitalist grift and that any new technologies that would require any new infrastructure would wreak untold devastation on the Global South so leftism shouldn't pursue them.

Ditto for the whole "critical theory" anti-consumerist crowd like Liz Ryerson or the writer of that fucking Barbie movie critique that's been going around Tumblr or the writer who I won't name who personally traumatized me off a Discord server.

From everything I have seen, those people's praxis is pretty much just "bully people until they stop watching what we don't like," with a side of "make people as self-negatingly miserable as us" as far as I can tell given how they never have done anything with regards to expanding Creative Commons artistic communities, because for all their talk they seem to mostly hate any creative communities too aesthetically "pulp"

Like... I'm aware it comes from a deep psychological wound (I'm not even getting into the half of the trauma), and this probably an invitation for everyone on Leftist Tumblr to make fun of me for my privileged trauma bullshit.

But at my honest core, I hate anticonsumerism and its related ideas because; as far as I can tell, their ultimate goal ends with a world run like my parents, where you have to beg to get things you need to pursue your passions and niche artforms struggle to materially exist if they're any technological/industrial levels beyond community theatre and whittling and such...

Thinking of your post on the problems of veganism as a movement vs veganism as a lifestyle choice/one technique amongst many, that also applys super well to my issues with degrowth (And anticonsumerism as well) as a movement vs degrowth as one technique amongst many for dealing with the hydra-crisis of overproduction/resource overuse/destroying people and places for resources.

Like, in particular as an autistic person the continual recurring insistence that we need to just "change our desires" creeps me out. As someone who's difficulties were dismissed as just "having a bad attitude" and who's interests were so often dismissed as a waste of time instead of preparing for a job in the "real world" IDK if they truly understand the full horrifying implications of that line of thought.

So here's the thing with the concept of "overconsumption"

I had to do this whole project on overconsumption in my Anthropology class where I compared my consumption habits to those of someone 2 generations older, the prof clearly had in mind that we would discover a particular result that I did not end up finding.

I had to watch this documentary called "Affluenza" which was all about how Americans consume too much and they shop and buy things for fun and it's killing the planet, and it kept making these statements like "The average american does X..." and "X" would be something insane that I've never dreamed of doing.

Now I technically grew up below the poverty line, we were always financially insecure and struggling to pay bills and there was never any extra money lying around.

But my upbringing felt average, even privileged. We had a house instead of a trailer on cinder blocks, we had food and clothes. Compared to the upbringing of my mom and virtually everyone she knew growing up, we lived in fabulous luxury.

And the "overconsumption" lesson was bizarre to me because it brought up things like "going shopping for fun once a week" and "owning 20+ pairs of shoes" as if they were normal. I wear my clothes until they're unwearable and shop for clothes like once a year, and my mom has half as many clothes as I do. She feels guilty buying anything for herself and HATES shopping.

It feels like the dominant resources on living an eco friendly lifestyle presume that we have far more agency in what we buy and use than we actually do, instead of being stuck with the cheapest or closest available thing, and that our lives are full of extraneous, non-essential "consumption."

That class brought up the idea of "conspicuous consumption" a lot, or buying things to obtain social status instead of for their concrete utility. The way "conspicuous consumption" was addressed in the class was not very immediately relatable to me—I never had the option of buying clothes just to appear "with it" socially. My parents couldn't buy an extra car to fit the aesthetic of the American dream—we had enough trouble keeping the one we had running. The "conspicuous consumption" that class addressed was just not available to me.

However, I don't think conspicuous consumption is endemic to stable members of a certain socioeconomic status, because consumption is partially driven by the trauma of poverty. People who grew up poor will buy you more Christmas gifts than you can store or use, because they want to spare you the shame they experienced. Their brains are molded around the trauma of not having enough, and giving you enough is their way of keeping you safe.

Conspicuous consumption as a habit is pushed on you if your ancestors were shaped by this trauma. It is a misrepresentation to think of it as driven by pride, because your ability to perform the behaviors and mimic the appearances of a higher socioeconomic status has a concrete effect on how people treat you.

I know J.D. Vance is a nutjob now and Hillbilly Elegy was...not great (I'm more appalachian than you bitch, and I'm not even appalachian!) but the one thing that book got incredibly right was the idea of "social capital" and the way access to financial security and wealth gives you social capital. This is the main thing the current understanding of "conspicuous consumption" gets wrong—the need to escape the appearance and behaviors of poverty is seen as vain and self-indulgent, when it's a survival mechanism and it's something you're expected to engage in to gain opportunities and respect.

Poverty is humiliating. People with money never think about the fact that they have money. They think of themselves as average, if they think of themselves in terms of socioeconomic status at all. Being poor ends up embedded in the grooves and folds of your brain.

I remember when I was about 12, I gave my friend an informal tour of our house the first time she came over, showing her every room. I realized later that this wasn't exactly a normal behavior—I had done it because my mom did the same thing when she brought her friend over, and my mom had done it because it was a way of saying look, I survived. Look, I have a place to live to call my own, isn't this nice?

At its worst, anti-consumerism just reinforces the myth that your consumption is purely a matter of personal choice. And unfortunately when the conversation is ruled by the privileged, this idea will appear substantiated—because rich people can choose the aesthetics of poverty without concretely affecting the way the world treats them. A rich person can choose to live in a "tiny house" but they will never be "trailer trash."

Anti-consumerism revolves around ideas that are almost irreparably tainted by the mythology of an unequal society. Rich people possess and control the aesthetic of restraint and frugality, allowing them to playact living a Simple Life where they live in a tiny minimalist cottage and eat Healthy Vegan Oat Gruel, while McDonalds is the emblem of American excess. It is poor people's behaviors and habits that exemplify excess and greed.

Anti-consumerism isn't going to change anything until it openly confronts the fact that poverty is traumatic and consumption patterns often arise from poverty survival mechanisms.

[the-firebird69]

My grand nephew pointed something out last week when you called the cops on this low level a******. First he pointed out just sitting there annoying the s*** out of him saying they're friends of his and supposedly he believes it when he doesn't and they believe that he believes it cuz they're weak secondly it shows they're working together in a way and all opposing each other all the time I know how it is when you're in battle you won't exactly hit each other even though bja wiped out that Force they all want the bridge and it's like this faction of clones and it's in their territory and they kept on saying no so that happens too but the majority of them are intact so we're going after them and it does prove that they work together and it is worth it having him here doing the laundry I'm still his doctor and he admits that and I guess I didn't accept pay for a few months so I'm going to talk about it and if that lady blows up on him I'm going to fire her I need to exploding on patients about payment it's not really apropos okay most of them have financial troubles and you're wrong and I told you not to if you do you're fine he says he doesn't care at all cuz she's threatening him and threatening his money and everything else about him and they're useless people like Garth who constantly threatens to try and put him in a moldy car and to spend money down and to go in the street so I'm sick of them and an idiot s*** who knows she's probably trying that to she's a freaking bulbous a****** and stinks all the time probably should fire her before he arrives and he says probably so I'll probably will but really he's welcome here to do laundry if I have to talk to him I will he says it's fine I talked to him every time and if I say don't call the cops and say what if they're breaking the law hopefully and I better not say something in that fashion I can't if I want to tell me first is what I used to say I'm saying it now so I probably will because they push me to it and he knows about that and they'll say okay cuz maybe I can work it out I can't work it out I call the cops cuz I've called the cops before

Mac daddy

You stupid low life morlock have given me no choice I can't live here at all without killing tons of you and aside from what Matt does I can't get down the street without disconnecting half of your cerebral cortex or hitting you with emitters to stop you and I have agents to do it and foreigners too do it anyway because you're bothering me unnecessarily you're just obsessive compulsive addicted idiots and I can't use you for anything unless it's my absolute Force pretty much you're going to be done soon anyways and you're too small to keep your look and you're bothering the s*** out of everyone because of it and you're vulgar disgusting parasites from the start and I figured it out because you kept harassing me it wouldn't stop so you don't have self control either

Zues Hera

These losers can't even understand what you're saying but we do and we follow it and it's exactly what it is you're going to take care of the problem cuz we don't have time to pamper these to go the wrong way and try and harm us and it's illegal so we're going to thrash them right now I'm also at the programs going forwards including Stars including rabbit buildings they wanted going in and writing their food taking their stuff I'm going to do it now and he says can't we absolve a few areas while they're doing their laundry routine and we're going to go ahead and do that there are five left I want them to be three left by the end of the laundry session we can do it one of them is going to be gone soon but I hear what you're saying they really need to leave he wants us to put a facility next to one of them and take them down fast I'm learning something about our father and mother these people are bothering them very badly and they need to go the most unreasonable people in the planet they have no reasoning ability at all that's how unreasonable it is. And we're going to do that hopefully tonight. The bridge is up and Trump is going to be on fire and the idiots would be after Trump so he wants the idiots to be angry but really it's trumpy was mentioned because it was the son who was a cop and he's a pig and he's going to lose he doesn't understand no he's a retard and we're going to fix his wagon it always surprised that they die I have a problem with that

Thor Freya

I'm calling an alarm he's right this is going to suck I don't want these people here at all I want them out of this town now to my hair it's so nasty and ugly and mean everything out of that stupid mouth all the damn routines in the laundry Matt are to annoy me and him and it's so vulgar and rude we're sitting there trying to hold their tongues is all we have to do we're not supposed to tell anybody then they show up if you call it's the most ridiculous thing you've ever seen it's a ride and it kind of worked but holy s*** these people are so damn nasty nobody would survive in here you have to use all sorts of slime stuff I want out of this they suck so bad they're so dumb sacrilegious and black blasphemous they let him go on whatever you want to do we have a huge question in Egypt if that's going on these people are dead so they're forcing weird stuff like that all the time Satanist stuff a lot are women don't have anything

You said that last part I'm going to look into it then we'll have something

Mac

[charmixpower]

Brandon and Sky swapping places is so dumb, like so fucking dumb

Just let me be annoying about logistics for a second because this has been bothering the fuck out of me for a while

Sky and Brandon look nothing alike, and look nothing like Erendor and Samara either: Genuinely how the fuck were Sky and Brandon able to switch places in the first place? Like actually?? Sky and Brandon dont look anything alike, the don't have the same skin tone for fucks sake. Even in flashbacks Brandon is always slightly darker than Sky (just dark enough to be able to tan, compared to Sky who absolutely gets hella sun burns). He has an entirely different undertone too, which also doesn't match Erendor or Samara!! So there's literally no way Sky has ever been able to make any appearance as prince anywhere before because he and Brandon look way too different for that to ever work. Neither of them look like Erendor and Samara either??? Erendor has dark dark reddish brown hair and almost black looking dark brown eyes, and Samara has fire hydrant red hair and bright green eyes. Sky looks nothing like either of them! Unless some fucking genetic magic happened, where Sky looks exactly like his grandmother and no one else, he ain't related to them!! And there's no fucking way that Brandon would pass as their kid, because as I've previously mentioned, he's darker than both of them, and despite what the show seems to think with Flora's parents. No, that does not happen. The only way any of this makes any damn sense is if one of them bitches cheated. Imma say Erendor, because if Samara was the one with royal blood she'd be too smart to marry someone as stupid as that motherfucker, so he's the one who's in the royal bloodline. Why does Sky look nothing like his parents? Bitch cheated with someone with strong as fuck genetics for blonde hair and baby blue eyes. How is Brandon able to pass off as Sky when they look nothing alike? No one's seen Sky or his mother before, who knows what either of them look like. Could be this. That is the only way this would actually work without everyone being immediately asking so many questions

"The Prince™" has never made a public appearance, and has never been seen: Sky would have to have literally never been in the public eye, or anything similar, ever in his life before s1. For multiple reasons. 1) The assassins that are coming after sky are based in Eraklyon. There is no point in switching in case of assassins on other planets if the people who want to kill you most already know you look like. Yoshinoya is from Eraklyon, if Sky wants to be safe people on Eraklyon would be the ones that should know the least about him. The only people who have been shown to want to harm Sky and Diaspro are people from their own planets. 2) Camera's and internet. There is no way that if Sky ever did make a appearance anywhere that his face wouldn't be immediately plaster every where. If Sky ever went to a gala, he'd likely end up on every tabloid in the dimension or at least Stella would recognize him. Neither has happened. Sky was likely just as sheltered as Nabu if he's such a prominent figure and no one knows anything about him. Same goes for Diaspro tbh. She also probably couldn't of been making real public appearances or Stella likely never would of flirted with Brandon because the fact that the Prince of Eraklyon is engaged would be common knowledge. (Well that just killed my Dia and Aisha childhood friends hc...unless Aisha knew her before Diaspro was moved into the Eraklyon palace....Headcanon saved!!) So in all likelihood, Sky, Brandon, and Diaspro all grew up in a secluded wing of the palace with high security and likely very limited access to technology. Or full access to like Google, but all social networks are blocked and no cameras sort of thing

Brandon had to be there too: if only so no one can point at Middle School records and go "hey isn't that the prince?" Brandon was likely homeschooled before being introduced as Sky's playmate, bodyguard, and probably other stuff too

That or this had to be going on as long as Sky been making public appearances: This is the other option. This swapped thing just could of been on a lot longer than implied by the show. I mean probably not? It's both a lot more effort and would cause a lot of unnecessary public fuss once the switch was revealed that would make for terrible pr. Keeping Sky and Diaspro in a highly secure location is just more likely

Erendor and Diaspro are the dumbest motherfuckers alive: AND THEN!!! THIS YEARS!!!! YEARS LONG FUCKING RUSE!!!! THAT HAD TO BE GOING ON FOR MOST OF SKY'S FUCKING LIFE IS JUST OVER BECAUSE TWO FUCKING PEOPLE CANT KEEP THEIR GODDAMN MOUTHS SHUT!!!!! DUMBEST MOTHERFUCKERS ALIVE IS NOT A STRONG ENOUGH DESCRIPTION FOR THE SHEER IDIOCY OF THIS MOVE!!! DIASPRO WALKING AROUND WITH A PICTURE OF SKY AND ERENDOR FUCKING YELLING IT ALOUD!!! CAN YOU EVEN IMAGINE THE AMOUNT OF MONEY AND YEARS JUST FUCKING WASTED IN ONE MOMENT?!?!? CAN YOU??? THIS ELABORATE SCHEME WAS JUST SET ON FIRE!!! IT'S DEAD ON THE FLOOR!!! 16~17 YEARS OF WORK!! GONE!!! IF I WAS SAMARA I WOULD OF FUCKING STRANGLED THEM ON THE SPOT!!! I CAN AT LEAST BE CONVINCED THAT DIASPRO DID THAT SHIT INTENTIONALLY, BUT ERENDOR IS JUST BEING SO FUCKING STUPID IM SURPRISED HE DIDN'T ACCIDENTALLY KILL HIMSELF BY NOW

Do you ever think about the fact that Timmy absolutely knew: Sky told Timmy he wanted to be with Bloom and not his arranged fiance. Timmy is smart enough to know that servants, squire, gentleman in waiting, or otherwise, do not get arranged to marry princesses. He just knew. If he didn't know beforehand, he knew then. I just, he had to be chill with it! He wouldn't of stayed friendly with Sky and Brandon if he wasn't just chill with it. His reaction has to be somewhere between that's none of my business and we don't have time to unpack all that. Everyone is probably feeling so hurt and betrayed by the swap and Timmy's like "damn bro, that's crazy" because he fucking knew. He fucking knew. I'm in hysterics

[nobodyfamousposts]

Chloe's Lament Part 2

Next part of Chloe's Lament. Chloe begins to learn of the changes to reality from her Wish.

She will not be happy about this.

____________________

When Chloe woke up, the first thing that struck her was the loud banging sounds from somewhere below her.

The second thing was pain.

“I have a headache!” She called out, laying an arm over her sleep mask-covered eyes. Her butler would hear her and respond accordingly, of course. He always did.

“And get them to stop that racket down there!” She flopped on her bed with a huff, waiting for the help to return with aid.

Really, the things she dealt with!

Normally, her butler would arrive immediately, with painkillers and fruit-infused water being presented to her within a minute.

But to her growing frustration, that minute came and passed.

Then two.

Three…

Not that Chloe was counting.

Eventually, it had been five minutes and there was still no word from the man. And to make matters worse, that damn banging from below was only getting louder and increasing her suffering.

“Ugh! Do I have to do everything myself?!”

She ripped off the sleep mask, only to wince at the level of brightness in the room. She was on the top floor with the best visibility but the windows were supposed to be tinted and covered to prevent this very thing!

Once her vision cleared, several things should have stood out as odd.

But the first thing to attract her notice was the sleep mask she had just removed—some cheapo dime-store brand. She tossed the rag away with a shriek.

“Is this a prank?!” She demanded. “That is not my personalized diamond-studded satin custom made facial mask! Jean? Jean!”

There was a ruckus from below. The sound of something being dropped. Footsteps—loud and fast and getting closer. Then the opening of a door.

“Precious! Is everything okay?”

She sneered at the sound of her father’s voice.

“No! My sleep mask was stolen, it’s too bright, my head is KILLING me and no one is getting me anything to help!”

He looked confused at that. “Are you out of Efferalgan in your bathroom cabinet?”

She gave him a look. Why would she have to get up and go to the bathroom for some painkillers when there should be someone to hand them to her?

He gave her a strange look in response. Like he was confused his daughter would expect someone to do something as simple as bringing her painkillers and water.

And water.

Preferably cherry-infused.

Was that really so much to ask? Or even require asking?

“Just…hang on a moment.” He said and left her her bathroom.

Finally.

With nothing to do but wait, she glanced around, noting that…this was not her room.

Not the one she knew, anyway.

The light that had blinded her before was from a central window overlooking the room that so obtrusively settled on her bed. In addition, there was a skylight placed above a nook set behind her bed, which brought more light into the room.

She vaguely recognized the room. Well, by its floor plan, at least. The layout and decor threw her off though. The furniture and items were clearly cheaper than her usual high end designer brands. But she saw aspects that were suited to her tastes. Minute indications of her own touch in the assortment of objects around her. Yellow and white as the themes. Black cushions and aesthetic.

It was…decent. But so beneath her it was embarrassing! These were cheap models! Practically plastic! The bedsheets were…ugh…cotton of all things! The lamps were dim! She was missing her boudoir! And her shoes! And her jewelry! She didn’t even want to imagine the nightmare that was her closet—it was practically a hole in the wall! There was no way it would fit everything!

“Here you are, dear!” Her father said, returning from her bathroom with a glass of water and a pill in hand.

She fought the grimace.

Was this tap water?

Gross!

By his expectant look, he clearly meant for her to drink it.

With her continuing headache and no better option for fast relief, Chloe reluctantly took the proffered items. She was unable to help the slightest grimace before she downed them both.

“Well, if that’s all, I’ll be getting back to setting up for the morning rush. Come downstairs to the bakery when you’re ready.” He looked almost relieved to be leaving.

Chloe barely took notice now that she had what she needed. Instead, she took to contemplating her situation and her new surroundings.

All the furniture aside, this room looked familiar. Not really well known, because Chloe was sure she had never been in such a place before. But…like she had seen it somewhere…TV maybe?

And her Daddykins was here. That meant…wherever she was, it was apparently expected for her to be here.

But where was here?

The last thing she remembered was…

She closed her eyes, straining to think past the pain.

That’s right! Hawk Moth’s offer! The Bee! She was Miracle Queen! And she had just won! She had Ladybug beaten…

Her fists clenched.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng…

It hit her.

This was just like her room!

She had only seen it a couple of times. Once for sure when Sabrina had snuck into her room per Chloe‘s instructions for blackmail material. She happened to glimpse a picture of the room here or there from other people’s phones of times that they had spent in this room—that she had really cared. It was a small and dingy room that had nothing on her glamorous abode at the hotel, which of course, was superior in every way.

She was vaguely reminded of that one show that Marinette hadn’t stopped talking about which had also apparently shown Marinette‘s room, but Chloe honestly hadn’t been bothered enough to watch it, so she didn’t have that to go on. But with what she did know, it was a safe bet to assume that this was some knockoff of Marinette‘s room.

So why was Chloe here? Why was her dad downstairs?

She… she had made the Wish, hadn’t she?

…

…

…

What…is this it?

She turned up her nose at the environment around her, completely unimpressed.

Was this dinky little room with its weird setup and tacky decor what the Wish gave her? Why would she be in any copy of Dupain-Cheng’s room layout anyway?

The Wish should have changed reality, that much was clear. There was no way she would be caught dead in Dupain-Cheng’s room otherwise—much less sleeping there like it was her own room!

…unless…it was her room?

Was it?

She had found some aspects of the room to her taste, but did that mean this was hers?

It would explain why she was there. And why her Daddy had come up. He had mentioned her bathroom earlier, then had gone through the nearby door to get a tablet and water from what she could only assume was the bathroom he had spoken of.

…he had mentioned a bakery.

Eyes wide, she stumbled out of bed and to the window. Sure enough, the school was just across the way. And there was a sign out front.

“Bourgeois Bakery”

Chloe stared.

Suddenly, it clicked. The banging from downstairs. Her Daddy talking about a ‘morning rush’. And to come down to the…

…no way!

This place was a bakery! Her Daddy was operating a bakery!

And given her location, it was the same bakery that Marinette’s parents owned originally!

This…

…wait…

…did this mean she was supposed to be Marinette?

She threw her pillow in a fury.

Stupid Wish! This wasn’t at all what she wanted!

You would think all-powerful Wish-granting artifacts would do it right!

“Where are those kwamis?!” She demanded, jumping out of the bed and looking around for anywhere she would keep such important jewels. “I’m going to give them a piece of my mind!”

She had a boudoir along with the various jewelry pieces kept there ranging among a variety of gold and diamonds—all fakes, much to her disappointment. And not a single Miraculous among them.

She slammed the final drawer in with a curse.

Nothing!

If she had the Miraculous, shouldn’t they still be with her? Do they just disappear after being used?

Ugh! Those things really were useless! Utterly useless!

It was when she stood back to full height that she noticed the monthly calendar. There were the standard holidays, but also a weekly appointment every Friday evening with some ‘Bridgette’. What was that? A spa day?

She shot a glance to her reflection in the mirror and grimaced. She definitely needed one. She could just feel all the oils on her skin!

But more to the point, there was one day circled on the calendar.

‘Start of School’

She grabbed her phone—an older, obsolete model with a glittery but fake casing—and checked the date.

That…

That was today.

It was the first day of school. A…

She checked the date again, and sure enough, it was a year ago!

Had the Wish taken her back in time?

She froze, realization hitting her.

This was the first day of school. The same day as the first akuma attack.

And when Ladybug first appeared.

That meant…she was sent back in time to the day Marinette would become Ladybug.

It was a year in the past. She wasn’t at the hotel. Her room was in a bakery. Her father was working as a baker. She was Marinette now.

That meant…

She giggled, feeling a giddiness rise within her.

Today was the day she becomes Ladybug!

It looks like the Wish did something right, after all!

Chloe grinned, spinning away from the mirror and to her closet.

She had to get ready! She had to prepare the perfect outfit! Something for the day she becomes a hero!

No. THE hero!

She knew how the Ladybug worked. Hell, she knew the akumas to come. With her prior knowledge and skills, she would know how to use the yoyo and how to use the Lucky Charm better than the old Ladybug ever did! She’d have every akuma in the bag!

Hell, maybe she could force the Ladybug kwami to tell her where the Guardian is so she can get the other Miraculous, too! That way, she could have both the Ladybug AND the Bee again.

And her Adrikens would be her partner! To support her! To stay by her side! Just as it should be!

She paused, something niggling at the back of her brain. There was something she was forgetting.

A glance around the room as she wondered

Of course, the full extent of the change and just what that meant didn’t really hit her until she went downstairs and actually saw her father.

The poor man was in the middle of retrieving a pan lined with croissants from the unbearably hot oven, his hair contained in…fishnet? Latex? Whatever the cafeteria cooks wore when she had no choice but to eat from the school’s lunchroom.

Gross! He looked like a lunch lady!

He didn’t seem to notice her, too busy dancing around the kitchen and checking over the…whatever pastries those were and just looking proud of himself.

Daddykins, no. You’re better than this! How could you be reduced to such a state?

He seemed to notice her staring. “Are you feeling better?” He asked, looking concerned.

“Er…yeah.” She replied. She wasn’t, really, but she couldn’t tell him that. He could try to have her stay home and how would she get to see the fruits of her labors from there?

“Ah good!” He said cheerfully. “It is the first day of the new school year, and you certainly want to…” He hesitated, “…start off on the right foot.”

A pause. He looked at her expectantly, but she had no idea what he was getting at.

He shook his head and turned away for a moment to grab a box before coming back and presenting it to her.

Clearly he wanted her to take it, so she sighed and took hold of the box. A peek inside revealed a number of macarons.

For her? Now this was what she was talking about!

“Oh, Daddykins! You shouldn’t have!”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. “I figured it would be a great way to start off the new year by sharing them with your classmates.”

Ugh. Seriously? All happy feelings vanished in an instant and she shot him a petulant look.

“Why should I have to share?” She demanded.

He hesitated.

She glared, tapping her foot in a clear indication of wanting an answer. Or preferably for him to just say they were all hers.

“It’s a new year and a new start.” Andre said, smiling nervously. “Maybe it’s time to just let bygones be bygones?“

It was a stupid question and she sure let him know it. She stared at him flatly, causing him to wilt.

Andre sighed.

“I know you don’t like her, but…” he hesitated. “Please, just try to get along?”

She blinked.

“Her?”

Wait.

Wait…

It suddenly struck her.

If she was Dupain-Cheng now…

That meant Marinette was in her shoes!

She grinned.

Marinette would be her bully! She’d be the rich bitch daughter of the Mayor and loathed by Paris while Chloe would be—

The one everyone rallied around.

The one Adrikens adored.

The one chosen as Ladybug!

She would have it all!

Part of her hoped the other girl would know about the previous reality…just so she could shove it in her face!

“Just take it slow,” he continued, unaware of her true thoughts. “And then you can report about it to Bridgette at your counseling session on Friday.”

Wait—counseling?

Seeing her expression, he held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

“I know you don’t like it, but it was part of the agreement. You need to make a better impression this year, sweetie.”

“What?”

“She’s the daughter of the Mayor. I’m not sure we can take another…” He trailed off before shaking his head and looking at her imploringly. “You understand, right?”

Oh.

Oh.

She got it!

“Of course, Daddykins!”

Clearly Dupain-Cheng was abusing her influence, just as she thought!

She had to hand it to the girl…a part of her hadn’t been quite convinced that she would go quite that far. But that just proof that Marinette Dupain-Cheng wasn’t so perfect and that even she would be the same as Chloe once in her position!

Chloe knew she would have to bear with the mistreatment for now. No matter how much it would grate her. It would suck to have to have to accept it for any period of time.

Still, it would be worth it! It just meant even more ammunition to use against her once Chloe was Ladybug!

She didn’t even notice the look of concern he gave her or his weak goodbye as she left the bakery with the box in hand. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts. Particularly her plans.

And what plans they were!

So what if Maribrat had Chloe’s wealth? It wasn’t like she knew the first thing about status or being a symbol. No, Ladybug did that for her and she didn’t even use it right! Not like Chloe would.

She smirked to herself, imagining the future.

Well, as soon as she got the Miraculous, taking the pigtailed down a peg would be the first thing on her list. Maybe a dip in the Seine? Or ‘accidentally’ getting her hit by an akuma or two?

Why limit it to her personally? If Ladybug spoke out against the mayor, who would vote for him? From what she remembered of Marinette’s dad, that oaf had no business being in politics anyway! Then there was the hotel, which would no doubt be a mess with him in charge anyway.

And best of all, she thought with glee, with a word from Paris’s favorite hero, Dupain-Cheng could be implicated as an ally of Hawk Moth.

Who wouldn’t believe it? If Marinette was in Chloe’s place, that meant she had to be a brat despised by Paris. Everyone would likely jump at the excuse to run her out of the city!

It was slightly disappointing that the former Ladybug wouldn’t know why the new Ladybug was so against her or that she had even been replaced, but she didn’t deserve answers anyway.

For once, Chloe was getting everything she wanted. It was like the Universe itself was on her side! Chloe would be the hero with all the Miraculous and status just as she’d always deserved. And everyone would automatically see it and love her while they would already recognize Marinette as the selfish bitch Chloe always knew she was!

It was a win/win for Chloe and all her fans—which was the best kind of win for Chloe.

Sure, it meant she would have to suffer the loss of her basic comforts like a butler, the latest in fashion and accessories, and easy immediate access to a luxury spa for now…but it would be worth it in the long run.

…maybe not the luxury spa. She would kill for the hotel’s oils and masseuse. But she would just have to deal with, ugh, scheduling with a four star locale in the meantime.

It’s for the greatest good, she reminded herself, looking mournfully at her chipped nails.

And besides, she didn’t have to suffer for long.

Today was the first day of school, which signified the first appearance of Ladybug! This was the day she achieved her destiny! Once she became Ladybug, she would be back on top!

So what if her dad was a baker instead of a hotel owner this go around? Who said it had to stay that way? Just as she could use her position to defame the Dupain-Chengs and ruin Marinette, she could endorse the bakery for free publicity. Do special promotions and deals for money. Or even better! She could make the city pay her for her work!

After all, how much was her Miracle Cure worth, really? How much would the city be willing to pay for her to fix the damage caused by akuma fights? It was only what she was owed; the least they could do is compensate her for her time.

Really, it was Marinette’s own fault for not taking advantage while she could. She could’ve been an idol or the city’s star. She could have used the Miraculous to create an army. Hell, Hawk Moth should have been nothing against her! And instead, she just…wasted her potential. On things like loose zoo animals or out of control helicopters, no less!

Chloe wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

And now that Chloe was set to be the city’s hero…

Even if Marinette was rich (for now), it would be nothing compared to what Chloe would have. She would be Paris’s hero! The BEST hero! And unlike that has-been, she at least would use Ladybug’s power and status right!

She didn’t need to be the daughter of the Mayor! Her Mother was still THE Style Queen, Audrey Bourgeois. Adrien Agreste was still her best friend. She was still Chloe Bourgeois, the best thing to happen to Paris! And now as Ladybug, she would still be back on top and ruling Paris in no time!

And it would all start once she got to school.

“Get out of my way!” She exclaimed, shoving some old fart taking his sweet time walking, sending him to the ground and out of her way.

Move aside, peons!

Her destiny awaits!

Back at the intersection, Chloe never noticed the way the elderly gentleman cast her a judging stare from his position on the ground. Or his muttering.

“No, definitely not.”

“Are you okay?” Came a voice.

“Ah, yes!” He replied, accepting the offered hand and taking stock of the girl it belonged to. She was young. In college, likely. “Thank you, young lady!”

“Of course!” She smiled, handing him back his cane. “Do you need help getting home from here? That looked like quite a fall.”

“But don’t you have somewhere to be?” He asked.

“Just school, but I can spare a few minutes if you need…?”

“There is no need for that.” He shook his head. “I will be fine, thank you for your concern.”

Yes, he decided with a smile as he watched her go, this one will do.

_________________

Ugh, walking. Who invented such a thing? She couldn’t wait until she had a personal limo again. This was so not good for her!

Chloe continued plotting as she walked, magnanimously choosing to consider this as part of the reason for revenge instead of its own thing.

And speaking of revenge! Let’s see…

She scrunched her face, trying to remember the events of the first day of school.

There had been that fight with Marinette over her seat. ‘My seat now’, she realized with glee. ‘Which means I’ll be back next to Adrikens!’

Where she should be.

And if she and Dupain-Cheng were now supposed to be switched, that meant ‘the horrible bully Marinette’ would be picking on ‘poor sweet little Chloe’.

She couldn’t wait!

‘Let’s see how you handle being in my shoes, Dupain-Cheng!’

She giggled to herself, ignoring the weirded out looks she was getting from some passing students.

Or the way the other students in general seemed to give her a wide berth.

As they should for the real Queen Bee of this school!

She was already imagining how this was going to go. And with the classroom only a few feet ahead, her vindication was already so close she could taste it!

Except when she finally arrived at the class, it was immediately clear that something wasn’t right.

Dupain-Cheng was there as expected. With her same kiddie pigtails and her pink and grey ensemble with polka-dots—what kind of designer was she anyway?

What wasn’t expected, however, was that Cesaire was already was there as well.

Originally, Cesaire defended Dupain-Cheng and they became friends. If things played out the same, shouldn’t Cesaire be coming in late? Or standing up to Dupain-Cheng here? If anything, they already seemed to be friends.

Unless Cesaire was Dupain-Cheng’s tool like Sabrina had been for her?

It made sense that this new reality would swap more around, she reasoned.

Except…

Chloe frowned. Now that she was actually close enough to the classroom, she could see the classmates gathered into a sort of half circle around Dupain-Cheng and her follower. And as she reached the doorway, she could more clearly hear what they were saying.

“—at the Le Grand Paris.” Marinette said, gesturing to Alya with a smile.

“Wow!”

“So cool!”

“That’s awesome! So you’ve just been staying at the hotel until you can get settled in?”

Alya nodded, smiling. “Yeah. At least for a little while until we could get our own apartment. Mr. Dupain-Cheng was really accommodating. Luckily, we didn’t need it for long before Mom found something. She didn’t want to take advantage of his generosity, but it’s just really amazing that he was willing to offer us room and board just to have Mom as part of his staff!”

Chloe raised a nose in disgust.

Who ever heard of such a thing?! What hotel made any profit letting people stay for free?

“We met when I was cleaning rooms and she offered to help!” Marinette explained brightly.

Chloe nearly gagged.

Cleaned?

Marinette…actually cleaned the hotel?

Why do something that gross?

That’s what the help was for! And Sabrina.

Speaking of, where was she?

Chloe glanced around, but Sabrina was nowhere to be seen amongst the classmates.

Maybe the Wish had done more than switch her with Dupain-Cheng? Maybe Cesaire and Sabrina had been switched as well? So that meant Sabrina should be the new transfer, right?

No wait, that didn’t add up. She had just walked in on Cesaire being introduced.

Sabrina was probably just her best friend, then.

She nodded.

That was good enough, she supposed. At least if she couldn’t have her necessities from the hotel, she still had Sabrina to take care of the more mundane tasks for her.

Unaware of her thoughts, Marinette had continued talking to the others unhindered.

“—said she would be coming to Francios Dupont, and I knew I had to introduce her. She’s new, so be nice.” She instructed, giving a stare to Kim in particular. “Kim.”

The taller boy raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll give her a week before any challenges.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Challenges? Dare I ask?”

Everyone groaned.

“No dares.” Nino begged, covering his face with his hat. “Please. Kim is bad enough every year. I still can’t look at the hotel without remembering what happened last time…”

“Yeah, your dumb dare got us banned from the hotel’s pool for a month!” Alix said, pointing at Kim, who shrugged helplessly.

“Speaking of the hotel!” Marinette cut in, pulling out her tablet. “I convinced my dad to let us do this year’s work study at the hotel.” She tapped her tablet. “I have a little bit of influence over what they’ll choose as assignments, so we can try to come up with roles everyone will like.”

“Hey yeah! That sounds awesome!”

The classmates crowded the desk, chatting excitedly.

“So where will everyone go?”

“Maybe Kim and Max in security? Or Alix and Max in security, so Kim could work the pool area.”

“As a lifeguard?” Kim asked cheerfully. “I’ve done some training, after all.”

Marinette sent him a wry look and pretended to be thinking it over. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe as a pool cleaner?”

Kim pouted. “No fair, Mari!”

“Hey, it would do you some good to learn the cleaning process for the pools you use so much.” Mylene said, half jokingly and half pointedly, making Kim lower his head and groan.

Marinette giggled a little. “Well at any rate, I’ve set up a list of all the different jobs at the hotel so people can mark their top preferences. Between all the options, everyone is bound to find something that’ll suit them best.”

She sent Adrien a knowing look. “And of course Adrien will be in the kitchen.”

Adrien beamed at that.

Not that Chloe noticed.

“Kitchen?!” Chloe squawked. “You’re going to make my Adrikens work in a dirty old kitchen?!”

She had known Marinette would be bad, but how dare she punish Adrikens like that? She could just see it now! Her poor Adrikens, forced to slave away in a room meant for servants like…like he was a servant! Where he could get covered in grime and burn his precious skin!

Everyone frowned at her, as if she was the one being ridiculous!

The boy in question raised his hand.

“But I want to—”

“That is a flagrant abuse of power!” Chloe shouted, slamming a hand on the desk. “She’s making Adrikens work like a maid! What if his father hears about this?!”

Adrien wilted in on himself.

“The kitchen isn’t dirty or old.” Marinette said, sounding annoyingly calm with a terseness in her tone that Chloe had heard some service workers use when dealing with particularly difficult customers—though why they used it with her was beyond her. It was as if Marinette was acting like she the reasonable one dealing with an unreasonable customer or something. “They just finished the remodeling three months ago, we clean it regularly, and all of our utensils and equipment are taken good care of.”

“That’s not the point!” Chloe shouted. “How could you use my Adrikens in such a way? Gabriel Agreste would never approve when he hears about this!”

Because he would be hearing about this! Chloe would make sure of it!

“I could just explain to Mr. Agreste that this would be for good publicity.” Marinette suggested. “I’m sure he would allow it.”

She knew it! There were really no lows she wouldn’t go to!

“You’re really pushing this! And you call yourself Adrikens’ friend!” Chloe pointed at Marinette accusingly. “Just because your Daddy’s the Mayor doesn’t mean you can treat people like they’re lesser than you!”

Marinette frowned, looking uncertain as her gaze flickered between the others.

Hah! Even in Chloe’s position, Marinette still wavered easily and she couldn’t hide her insecurities to save her life. It was why she always gave in in the end! Anyone would roll over someone showing such an obvious weakness!

Hell, she may not even need to wait to see her taken down. This was a perfect opportunity to lead everyone in rising up against her tyranny.

After a few seconds, she turned back to face Chloe, no doubt to attack her for challenging her and show her true colors—

“Chloe, are you okay?”

Huh?

“My Dad just runs the Hotel. He isn’t the Mayor.”

What?!

“My Mom is. You met her at your…” She hesitated, sending the others a glance before lowering her voice, “…meeting, remember?”

She had to bite her tongue regarding the ridiculousness of Dupain-Cheng’s mother being the Mayor. Was that woman even a French citizen?

But it was the other part of Marinette’s statement that concerned her. What meeting? What was she even getting at? Why was she trying to be quiet about it.

Nevermind! She’d worry about that later!

“It doesn’t matter!” Chloe shouted, forcing Marinette to back away. “The fact is that you can’t just throw your weight around to get your way and treat people however you like! And I’m not the only one who feels that way!” She exclaimed, turning to the classmates in expectation.

…only to get a number of blank or confused stares in response.

“Um, what are you even talking about?” Alya asked incredulously.

What?

“Yeah, dude! Marinette doesn’t treat anyone that way.” Nino added.

What?

“The only one who pulls that sort of thing is you.” Said Nathaniel bitingly.

Since when does that loser talk?

And also, what?!

“And aren’t you supposed to be leaving Marinette alone?” Alix asked, giving Chloe a pointed look.

What even was that about?

“I thought that was the agreement.” Mylene said quietly.

Seriously?! Was everyone on her side?

They were supposed to be silent! Or judging the Mayor’s brat! That’s what they did with Chloe! Instead, they were jumping to her defense!

“Are you serious?” She demanded. “Like she doesn’t abuse her power and authority to push people around!”

“Of course not!” Marinette insisted. And then to Chloe’s rage, seemed to draw herself up even more, actually looking confident and self assured in a way Chloe herself had never felt in her place. “As the daughter of the mayor, I have to set a good example.”

Ex…

Example?

What even was that?

Unaware of Chloe’s short-circuiting, she continued. “And Chloe, I wouldn’t force anyone to do a role that they don’t want. That’s why I brought the list here for the class to review first.” She gestured to her tablet. “That way everyone has a chance to pick what roles they want and we can avoid the ones no one wants to do. How is that a bad thing?”

It wasn’t, admittedly. But Marinette wasn’t supposed to be the one doing it! That was the problem!

“And who put you in charge?!” Chloe demanded of Marinette. “Why are you deciding where we’ll do the work study? What, are you using the Class Rep position to flaunt your family’s hotel?”

It would make sense. Chloe had been the Class Rep for years originally. If Marinette was her…

Marinette just gave her a strange look.

“No. I’m not Class Rep, remember?”

Chloe balked.

“What?”

“Chloe, did you hit your head?” Marinette asked, sounding worried. She held a hand out in offering. “Do you need to go to the Nurse’s Office?”

Chloe jerked away from the girl’s outreached hand. Why would Dupain-Cheng still be acting…nice?

Clearly she must still be pretending!

“Nevermind that! If you aren’t the Class Rep, then who is?”

“Your benevolent dictator is here!” Came a voice. A familiar voice. The last one Chloe expected.

“Hey, Class Rep.” Marinette said, giving Chloe a pointed look while waving to the person behind her.

Chloe turned slowly. She had to force herself to move. The strain made it feel like her bones were creaking.

Behind her, Sabrina stood tall with a tablet in hand and looking…surprisingly well for a new reality as a lackey of someone other than Chloe. She almost didn’t recognize her.

Chloe stood straight, expecting the standard greeting.

To her shock, Sabrina didn’t even look at her, instead moving past her to…

“Wow, Marinette! Nice jacket!” Sabrina said first thing in greeting as she moved over to the other girl in interest.

Marinette blushed at the praise. “Thanks! My dad got me some new fabric and I was inspired to try this style!” She gave a wink. “Now this is just a test run to see how it works out.”

“It certainly looks comfortable.” Sabrina said in awe.

Were…were they ignoring her?

“I have some of the material left.” Marinette said. “I could make you your own for your birthday if you want?”

Oh gag! Why would anyone want Marinette’s tacky creations instead of the latest in season creation?

And there was Sabrina looking like that was something to be excited about!

Oh no! Without Chloe to guide her, she had lost any sense of fashion! No matter how much fuller her hair was or how she no longer looked like a strong wind could blow her away!

Clearly, her life was a tragedy without Chloe!

“And I checked like you asked.” Marinette continued, unaware of Chloe’s glare. “My Dad said we could do the work study at his hotel.”

“Thank you!” Sabrina cheered. “That’ll be one less thing to worry about.”

“Yeah, we were talking about that when you came in.” Marinette explained.

Chloe glared pointedly at the girl over the way she was blatantly ignoring that they had been in the middle of Chloe calling her out! Seriously, what was the point of getting to tell people off for their flaws if they were going to ignore you and pretend it never happened! Really! You can’t just ignore the truth like that!

“We were discussing what positions everyone wanted.” Mylene said. “Even if we can’t get the exact ones we’d like, there’ll at least be options.”

“Juleka and I can clean the ball room!” Rose exclaimed. “It will give us a chance to check the acoustics of the room. We’ve been wondering about the effects and what to expect if our band ever plays in such an area.“

Nino looked intrigued at that. “Hey, that does sound like a good idea. Maybe sign me up for that as well?” He asked, turning to Marinette before mumbling to himself about the echo effect on his beats.

Marinette gave him a nod before turning back to Rose. “I heard you guys just started, didn’t you?“

Rose nodded, beaming. “It’s so much fun!”

Marinette smiled and marked it down on her list. “Then I’ll suggest that for you.”

She paused for a moment, hesitating in clear unwillingness to continue before giving a strained smile.

“And Chloe...”

“How about trash cleanup?” Alix snarked, giving the girl a dark look.

“Excuse you?!” Chloe shouted in outrage. “Do you know who my daddy is?!”

The looks she was given were completely unimpressed.

“A baker?”

“And not even a good one.”

"Hey, his croissants are all right."

Chloe blanched, remembering that her father wasn’t the mayor in this world.

He wasn’t even rich.

He was just a baker now. A simple ordinary not even very good baker who was barely keeping his head above water trying to maintain his business and manage his teenage daughter.

And that made Chloe…

Nothing.

Her go to tactic now had no power.

But…but Sabrina! She realized in a flash that her minion was apparently the Class Rep! She could have her back her!

But when she spun around to look, the girl had actually just abandoned her and the gathering altogether to sit next to Mylene of all people! Mylene! And they were just…chatting! Since when did those two spend time together! And why wasn’t Sabrina there for her?!

“Chloe!” Came the only voice worth listening to.

Oh, Adrikens! Of course you would always be there for her!

She spun to him in expectation. Because of course her Adrikens would be on her side! Her savior! Her only ally against such cruel tyranny—

But he didn’t look happy. Or in any way amicable to her. “Don’t forget!” He whispered sharply to her. “You’re still on probation! You can’t start another commotion before the first class of the school year has even started!”

Chloe blinked.

Pro…

Probation?

…

…

…

Her?!

“How am I on—?!”

It was impossible! She had never had a criminal record! She’d never even committed a crime! Or anything that warranted getting in trouble over!

Regardless of what Ladybug said, since she clearly had it out for her.

“Just leave Marinette alone.” Adrien whispered, turning her away from the rest of the group and…her. “Please.”

She didn’t want to. There were so many questions and so many things she wanted to demand right now. She was very well inclined to make demands regardless, because she didn’t know what was going on and she needed answers.

But it was her Adrikens asking.

And she didn’t have much chance to say anything else as Bustier had chosen that time to arrive.

“Welcome back, everyone!” The woman greeted cheerfully. Her arrival cut off all other discussion as the students made their way to their desks. “I hope everyone had a good break and that we’re all ready to start the new year.”

A chorus of affirmations followed as everyone took their seats.

Everyone except Chloe, who was glancing around the room in confusion.

None of this was right.

She had expected to fight with Marinette over her seat to get to sit behind Adrien, but he was sitting at the back next to Nathaniel. And Marinette was sitting in the mid row on the other side from him, pulling Alya to sit next to her. But if she wasn’t sitting behind Adrien, what was even the point of challenging her for her seat?

…where even was Chloe’s seat?

She would have sad next to Sabrina, but that traitor hadn’t moved from her spot next to Mylene and left no room for Chloe! And nobody else was calling Chloe over—so if someone else had taken Sabrina’s place as her best friend, she had no way of even knowing who it was!

“Chloe,” Bustier called to her, ever so gently. “Your seat is up at the front, remember? As we discussed the last time we met.” She gestured to the bench at the front.

It was across the one Chloe had sat at previously, being the front desk closest to the door. And to her frustration, there was no one sitting with her! How else was she supposed to get her assignments copied? And wasn’t that the seat that loser, Nino, had been put in because he got in trouble? Chloe wasn’t in trouble though!

Adrien’s words about probation hit her, making her wince.

…was she?

She wanted to ask. She wanted to stomp her foot and demand the answers she deserved.

But Bustier was staring at her expectantly. And she could hear some giggles and snickering from behind her the longer she waited. She glanced back to Adrikens, but…he wasn’t even looking at her! He was conversing with Nathaniel over something on his sketchbook!

How could a sketchbook be more important than his best friend?!

With little other choice, Chloe slid into the front desk, blushing furiously in humiliation and trying to ignore everyone behind her.

It didn’t matter.

None of them mattered!

None of this would matter once she got the Miraculous and put Dupain-Cheng in her place! Then everyone would know SHE was the Queen Bee!

She was sure of it!

[agapaic]

[19 days] whiplash [ch. 365 after-shot]

The shop will be closing soon. He’s seen an attendant wandering around, who will probably ask him to leave in the next five minutes. There’s no one else here. His clothes are vivid against the neon glow of the tanks. The fish cast strange shadows on his shirt, living out a second life on his skin.

They swim in half-circles before sharply changing direction, never touching the glass. He wonders if they know it’s there, as if they can sense some immovable wall that holds them back.

He’s not getting deep about this. He could contemplate, quite extensively, about how their freedom must be bought by some higher power, and they would really only go from one tank to the next, slightly bigger, slightly richer. It’s all fake shit, and he remembers that in some ways he’s got it better than an animal. He can, at least, run away. Maybe he won’t get far. Just to the edges of the city villages where he’ll get a job earning less than before and lose his place in school.

Guan Shan puts a finger on the glass in front of him. There’s a label in the corner, peeling away from the glass. Veiltail goldfish. They have wispy, membrane-like tails. He could put his hand on the other side and see all the way through. Guan Shan watches the only black fish in the tank move placidly through the water.

Beneath the label, a smaller one: Black moor. For a minute he considers tugging the label off and putting it in his pocket, a little secret. He remembers that would be stealing, in some way, and someone in the shop would have to go to the effort of printing and laminating and reapplying the label just for one fish.

Guan Shan turns away.

He wanders for a few more minutes. He’s aware of his reflection in the glass. He worries about how long the attendant will let him stay there, and the thought that they will make him leave makes him feel slightly sick. He likes it here—the quiet, the muted hum of the tanks, the strange lights. They make him feel somewhere else.

His mother is working the night shift and won’t be home until just before he’s meant to go to school the next morning. They’ll have long enough together that he could tell her he got fired from the shop, but not long enough that he could reasonably pretend to have forgotten as he tugs on his uniform and slips out the front door.

She won’t be mad—she never is.

She can’t take on another shift.

Mentally, he has started taking stock. His Xbox is a few years old, but he’ll get something for it. He has a stack of old music magazines from his dad that could catch the eye of a collector. His computer, maybe.

The earrings.

His stomach twists.

Really, it’s not much. It’ll earn them a month, which could be just long enough for him to get another job, but what’s the likelihood of that in a city where most kids are just trying to bulk their CV’s for their college applications. Besides, his grades speak for themselves. He got lucky with the shop, and lightning doesn’t strike twice.

‘Hey, kid. We’re closing soon, so unless you wanna buy something…’

Guan Shan nods. His shoulders round.

For no logical reason, he says: ‘Can I take a goldfish?’

‘Sure. The black moor? Saw you had your eye on that one.’

‘No, one of the others.’

The attendant comes up next to him. ‘Just the one? They don’t like being on their own, you know.’

He presses his jaw tightly. A small sound comes out of him. He looks at the price tag and is somehow shocked and saddened to see the figure so low.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘The black one, too, I guess.’

He pays, then leaves. It’s late enough that the streets are quieter than he expected. He’s usually home by now, his shift over, reheating leftovers while he works on his homework. He stands there while the shop attendant locks up behind him, holding the plastic bag with two fish in his hand. He feels stupid. Behind his eyes, he can feel a sort of stinging sensation.

He has the unnameable urge to grab one of the passing strangers and tell them how he’s feeling, what has happened, what could happen. On some level he knows that everyone has their own problems, and he’s not the type of person to overstep his bounds. Instead, he watches them pass, and after a few more minutes he goes to the nearest subway station and gets the train home.

/

He had half expected He Tian to find him on the street. He’d imagined it, He Tian catching his arm as he wandered from store to store, deliberating at large windows with thin mannequins and expensive jewellery without price tags. There is a part of him that’s disappointed that it didn’t play out like this, a part of him that is even angrier to find He Tian sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he eventually does get home.

It’s close to midnight, and the stairwell is clinically quiet. Outside, the stars are dusty and covered in a thin layer of smog that is less noticeable in the day. He Tian looks exhausted. He’s the type of good looking where even the slightest imperfection somehow makes him even more attractive. Guan Shan hates it.

He stands when Guan Shan walks in, suddenly filling the space, and Guan Shan says, ‘Get outta my way.’

‘Where have you been?’

Guan Shan shoulders past him. There’s a moment where he thinks He Tian will grab him around the shoulders, the air around him simmering enough that Guan Shan is convinced it’s a near thing, choking with danger, but he lets him pass. He follows Guan Shan up the staircase, his footsteps silent, his body casting long shadows on the steps where Guan Shan sets his feet.

At the door, Guan Shan pockets the notice that’s taped there, knowing He Tian has already seen it. Less sharply, he picks up the notes in He Tian’s and Jian Yi’s writing and folds them into careful squares.

‘You’re not comin’ in,’ he says.

‘I called you, like, fifty times. Did you block me?’

Guan Shan thinks He Tian sounds angrier than he really has a right to be. He turns and presses his back to the door. He has his keys clenched tightly in a closed fist.

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought you would’ve gotten that.’

‘I can get you another job. Something better paid.’

‘You’re so fuckin’ clueless.’

He Tian’s eyes tighten.

‘You’re ruining my life,’ says Guan Shan.

‘That’s—that isn’t true. I’ve helped you. You would’ve been expelled if—’

‘Maybe I would’ve gotten expelled. But I wouldn’t have had She Li on my dick all the time, would I? Wouldn’t need you to get me a job ‘cause you made me lose my last one, would I? You’re just—stickin’ a bandage on shit when you hurt me first.’

‘It’s not always like that. Don’t make it sound like it’s always like that.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I want you to go. I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Fuck off.’

He Tian says, ‘Let me pay what was on the door.’

‘Fuck off.’

He Tian doesn’t move and Guan Shan squeezes his eyes shut. He’s going to cry again, the frustration bubbling sourly in the back of his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to open the door while He Tian is still here because he knows he’ll probably let him in.

‘Do I really make you feel like a failure?’

Guan Shan rubs at his eyes with his fist. His voice comes hoarse and thick: ‘I am a failure. Bein’ around you just makes it so much more fuckin’ obvious.’

He doesn’t want He Tian’s pity when he says this, or his reassurance. He’s just being honest. Saying it out loud is kind of breathlessly relieving. He couldn’t say something like that to his mother, or any of the teachers at school. He couldn’t say it to Grey, who he’s known for years. He Tian knows more about him than anyone. It’s a terrifying thought.

If they never see each other again, will He Tian tell everyone the things Guan Shan has told him? About the restaurant and his dad, or about She Li and the things Guan Shan has let him do to him? He feels vulnerable and sick thinking about it, completely powerless, as he does a lot of the time when he’s around He Tian.

He oscillates between that feeling of uselessness and the feeling of being so empowered that he thinks it must be what being high or drunk feels like. That latter has him trusting his own convictions, having an unadulterated faith in himself like jumping from a bridge and thinking he might just fly—so long as He Tian is with him. He doesn’t like how it’s one or the other, empowered or powerless, and rarely anything in between. He’s heard adults on TV talking about being codependent, pulled punishingly into each other's orbit, and he wonders if this is the same thing.

In the end he supposes it doesn’t really matter. So what if He Tian tells everyone? Probably, he won’t see the rest of the year out at school. He’ll get a job on a different side of the city and no one will hear from him ever again. The embarrassment will all be internal and will only last a week or two. Then life will move on. He wishes he were older and wiser and better at believing this. He wishes it didn’t feel like the universe might fall out from beneath him.

‘Doesn’t matter what I do, it turns to shit,’ he tells He Tian. ‘No matter how hard I work, I’m never gonna earn enough. I can spend three hours studyin’ for a test and still come last. If it isn’t She Li, then it’ll be someone else. I just—I can’t catch a fuckin’ break, He Tian. But you do somethin’ and you come first every time. Life’s so easy for you.’

He Tian shifts from side to side. ‘Do you think things wouldn’t feel so hard if you stopped focussing on what you think my life is like?’

‘You’re pissin’ me off.’

‘I don’t know how I’m meant to help you. You won’t let me give you money. It’s like pulling teeth from you just trying to know what’s going on with you. What are you so fucking afraid of?’

‘I never asked for your help.’

‘You shouldn’t have to—that’s why we’re friends.’

‘I never said I wanted to be your friend.’

He Tian frowns, his look very serious. He isn’t teasing tonight. Neither is Guan Shan. There is the sense that their interactions are always anything but teasing, really, some dark undercurrent that runs between the two of them like dark veins.

He Tian says, ‘Are those fish?’

For a moment Guan Shan thinks he’s joking, deflecting wildly to distract from the seriousness of what Guan Shan has just said. Then he feels the crinkle of a plastic bag in his hand and, remembering how he’d just spent the last few hours, nearly drops the two goldfish onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘You don’t have a tank.’

‘Yeah, no. I don’t know why I bought them.’

He Tian hesitates. There is a curious, predictable gleam in his eyes. ‘Red and black?’

‘It’s all they had left at the store.’

He Tian is looking intently at the bag. ‘Do you remember when we went to the aquarium? And you said I wasn’t someone you could forget?’

‘I just meant that—’

‘I know what you meant. But I always pretend like you meant it the other way.’

Guan Shan thinks, Don’t you think things would be easier if you stopped focusing on what you want me to mean and what I actually mean?

Instead of saying anything, he looks down at his sneakers. They’re scuffed and starting to rip at the seams. The thought of having to buy new ones makes him panic and the thought of buying a pair of second-hand ones online makes him panic even more. There’s no shame in it, but the thought of wearing someone else’s clothes makes him feel strange, especially when he knows He Tian could buy fifty pairs without blinking.

Guan Shan considers that thought and replays what He Tian has just said about focusing on his life too much more than his own. Maybe part of that is true.

Before He Tian, did he always feel things so intensely? Did the bad always feel so fucking awful? He knows that things were mechanical, and he was mean and didn’t think much about other people in particularly nice ways. He knows he didn’t laugh much then, or have dinners and sleepovers with friends. He knows everything hurt on a distant, muted level that was easy to ignore. Not much time has passed since then, and he reasons that nothing about him has probably changed, just everything else around him.

‘I can’t understand why you won’t let me help you,’ says He Tian, when the silence has stretched too long.

‘Because I’ll get used to it.’

He Tian frowns, not understanding.

‘One day, you’re not gonna be around. And I’ll be fucked.’

‘I’ll always be there for you.’

‘You don’t know that. People say that a lot and then they disappear or get taken away, even if they didn’t want to.’

It’s obvious they’re talking about his dad, but it feels safer to talk about things in vague, subjective conversation. Maybe things would be easier if they talked openly about things and didn’t use metaphors and hypotheticals. As it is, Guan Shan doesn’t feel ready to try the alternative. He is conscious of the fact that this feels like a conversation. They are passing words back and forth that hold meaning and neither of them has touched the other yet. It feels new and fragile as an oil painting, still wet, and so he doesn’t let himself think about this for long.

‘I think you’re getting this wrong,’ says He Tian. ‘I’m not asking you to rely on me. Obviously, I’d kind of like that. I like the thought of you needing me, and I know that says something about me. But—I’m just asking you to let me help you. Just here and there, no strings.’

Guan Shan rubs his forehead with the back of his knuckles. His keys are starting to pinch his skin and he can feel a headache starting to surface.

‘I’m tired,’ he says. ‘I actually do want you to go.’

He Tian’s jaw clenches and he breathes out heavily through his nose. He’s probably thinking he’s wasted his time.

‘Okay,’ he says then. ‘But we’re not done.’

A new wave of exhaustion comes over Guan Shan, crippling and final. He wants to get into bed with his skin against cold sheets and sleep for twelve hours without waking once.

‘You’re not the only one that ever gets to decide that,’ he tells He Tian, a little sharply. ‘You’ve gotta learn to let people go.’

‘But what if I know I can help them?’ says He Tian. ‘If I don’t, I’ve just—failed.’

They look at each other.

A minute stretches into an eternity that could be seconds or hours, and everything has gone backwards. Everything is the same.

Guan Shan can’t put his finger on what has just happened, but he feels like laughing. Their fears are twinned, self-perpetuating, some kind of ouroboros chasing its tail. Who will get caught first?

They both seem to take in a breath at the same time, and He Tian takes a step back.

‘Goodnight,’ he says.

Guan Shan nods. He waits for He Tian’s retreating back to disappear a few flights down before opening the door to his apartment, and shuts it swiftly behind him.

/

There’s a knock at the door while he’s brushing his teeth. The fish are swimming placidly in their bag on the edge of the bathroom sink. It’s past one, and he keeps all the lights off because his eyes are feeling sore. He’s adjusted to the dim glow that comes from street lamps seeping through the curtains, the blink of the timer on the electric stove, his Xbox gleaming in his bedroom. His mother shouldn’t be home yet and she has her own set of keys.

With a sinking heart, Guan Shan pictures his landlord demanding payment.

Worse, he pictures He Tian. Before He Tian left, they’d resolved nothing. It feels like being back to square one, chasing each other around a chess board. It fills him with a vast emptiness that makes him feel like he’s existing outside of himself, waiting for someone else to take over.

He pads silently towards the front door, his toothbrush jammed into his cheek, and peers through the viewer. There’s toothpaste dripping down his chin. In the hall, there’s no one there. He’s half-convinced he imagined it. He counts to ten before he opens the door, steps out—and his foot connects with something hard. There is a cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat.

Guan Shan peers around. The light in the stairwell is artificially bright. He kneels down and opens the tabs on the box, which hasn’t been taped. He swallows.

For the fish, says the note on the second box, nestled inside the first. Careful, it’s fragile.

Guan Shan rubs the heel of a palm into his right eye. He sighs. Then he reaches out, braces himself, and picks up the tank. He carries it into his apartment, and the door locks behind him.

/

thank you for reading! if you’d like to support me on my ko-fi/request a short drabble, you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/agapaic 💞

[rowanaelinn]

Safe Place

rowaelin month day four : librairies @rowaelinscourt

warning: not descriptive nsfw content

Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius could be described as a calm male. Out of all his companions, he probably was the one with the most self-control and he thanked the Gods for it every time one of his friends said something stupid.

However, it didn’t apply when his wife was concerned. Around Aelin, Rowan’s self-control seemed to vanish. She had the ability to get him angry, to become a blushing mess or a soft idiot with just one sentence. There was no control around his mate and it was one of the reasons he loved her.

But when he woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, Rowan lost the little human part he had in himself. Rowan lost all control the moment he smelled a lingering scent of fear. Her fear.

Has she been taken again?

Has it all been a dream? Had he not got her back?

In a second, Rowan was standing, knives at the ready around his waist. He would fight to get her back if he had to. Not having Aelin by his side made him feel like all the air in the world was gone.

Rowan wanted to yell at himself for falling asleep, he should have protected her.

In all the times her Fireheart was in danger, Rowan was never there to protect her. What a poor excuse of a husband and mate he was. He still didn't know why his queen was keeping him and hadn't already thrown him out. He was useless. Completely useless.

He kept complaining because of the royal duties, kept saying he liked being a prince just fine because it didn’t bring him any mess. His only role as King Consort, mate, and husband was to protect Aelin and he had shown the world how bad he was at it. Multiple times.

She wasn’t okay, he could feel her sadness from her side of the bond. Rowan felt like a prick for being relieved at the feeling of her emotions just because it meant she was still alive and not in a damn iron coffin that blocked every chance for them to communicate.

First, he came out of the royal apartments, following Aelin’s faint scent. She had become so damn good at hiding herself with her magic, a trick Fenrys taught all of them. It was a useful skill to have, Rowan was relieved most of the time no one could track her with her scent but he wasn’t tonight. Not when he needed to see her.

Thankfully with Aelin’s condition lately, her scent was stronger which meant she couldn’t cover up all of it. He refused to imagine she had been taken away until he had searched the entire castle twice. She had to be here, somewhere.

He went first to the kitchen, hoping to find her behind the counter, a plate with chocolate cake in front of her. She would look up, fork still in mouth and she would smile guiltily at him. She would apologize, saying she was always so hungry lately and he would shake it off, taking another fork and join her even if he hated cake. Just to show her she wasn’t alone.

But when he opened the door, the kitchen was empty, making Rowan’s heart clench.

Next, he went to the throne room, hoping to find her sitting on her throne, a sad smile on her face she would try to conceal with a smirk. He would ask her what she was doing here and she would tell him she needed to be alone and to feel in power, and what better than her throne to make her feel powerful? But this room was empty too, and Rowan’s heart crushed a little further.

Maybe she was in the inside cemetery, kneeling between both her parent’s graves. She would look up at him and wouldn’t try to hide her tears. She would have a smile on her face, telling him she needed to feel close to them. To be between the two of them without waking up with blood everywhere. Rowan would nod and sit behind her, letting her rest her back on his chest and he would let her cry bringing her all the comfort she needed. But she wasn’t here, and Rowan didn’t know where to look for her now.

If they were in Rifthold, he would probably think she was speaking to either Sam or Nehemia, telling both of them everything about what happened in their court since the last time she spoke to them.

But they weren’t in Adarlan so it left only one place where she could be. His walk to the library was slow, slower than he wished. He could just shift and fly instead of taking all the stairs but if she was there she would make fun of him for it, she had enough to tease him already.

When he arrived at the library, as always, he was dazzled by the splendor of the room. The last time the librarians counted, Aelin and Rowan owned three hundred thousand books and that was a decade ago, just after the construction work was finished.

Aelin had cried and laughed and smiled for hours when she first saw it, walking through all the sections to see every book, then made love to Rowan on the floor, more tenderly than they were both used to, to thank him.

As if seized by a frenzy, Rowan walked like a mad man through the library to find her. He regretted giving her something so big, having to look at every fucking row. There were so many places to hide.

After what seemed like hours, Roan saw familiar blonde hair. He let a sob come out in relief. She wasn't gone. There was no Valg Queen that had pulled her away from Rowan, no, his Fireheart was just sitting on a couch that looked very comfortable, six pillows behind her back.

"Rowan?" She asked, raising her eyes full of concern. "Is everything okay?" Her eyebrows were furrowed.

Instead of answering, he rushed to her side, falling onto her lap to be on the same level as her and scanning her entire body to make sure she was okay and truly in front of him.

His eyes fell on a small scar on her right knee, a scar she had made during one of their training sessions. He remembered kissing the mark every night for weeks when he noticed it after enjoying his wife's goddess body. He hadn't noticed that she was injured during their workout and he felt terrible about it.

Aelin kept telling him he was fussing, but he knew deep down she liked it. She loved to be cherished and protected. He dropped his head to her lap, unable to fight a sob. She put her book aside, sitting straighter and one of her hands found her way in his hair. Rowan hated himself for the tears streaming down his face as he looked up at her, he hated himself even more for the look of agony on his mate’s face.

“Speak to me, please.” She begged him, her hand still playing in his hair.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even and strong but he couldn’t. “I thought you were gone.” He breathed deeply, trying to calm down and focusing on where he touched her, his hands and arms on her legs. “I woke up to an empty bed and your fearful scent and I panicked.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Rowan.”

“You weren’t supposed to go anywhere either last time but you still did.” He hated the poisonous words the moment they felt his mouth but his mate didn’t seem hurt, knowing anger was his way to cope.  “I’m sorry,” He hid his face on her leg, not wanting to see her hurt face.

“Don’t be,” Was the only thing she said as she kept stroking his hair. She was too good to him, she had always been. She had known so much pain her entire life but she was still an amazing person, Rowan didn’t know how much strength it must take her. The Gods knew Rowan lacked that particular strength when the time had come, he had turned into the worst version of himself. He admired his Fireheart.

After a moment, Rowan looked back at her and she smiled, his entire world brightened at this. She was okay, she was right here with him. She was safe.

“How are you?” He asked, feeling selfish for crying when she was the one who had a nightmare.

“We’re both okay, Rowan.” She reassured him as her free hand came to rest on her slightly rounded belly. Rowan’s heart swelled at the sight, he still couldn’t believe it. After years, decades, of trying Azlin was pregnant. She had been glowing for the past four months, even if she said otherwise.

“Is she still kicking?” He asked, one of his hands joining Aelin’s.

“Your son is restless, I hope you slept enough in your life because he’s not going to let us sleep much once he’s here.”

Both Aelin and him had a divergence of opinion on their baby’s sex. Aelin was sure it was a boy, whereas Rowan believed it was a girl. A girl had been their oldest in the vision he had for months when Aelin was gone. It had been too realistic to be a dream, had felt too real.

Yrene knew and had asked them if they wanted to know, but both of them agreed they wanted to keep it secret. They had too many surprises in their lives and none of them had been good, but this one would be. No more surprises unless it’s a good one.

“She’ll be worth every sleepless night.” His lips turned into a smile at the idea of a little Aelin and Rowan.

Aelin snorted. “Wait until you have to change diapers.”

At that, Rowan laughed, soon followed by Aelin. When he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, his smile faded. “What did you dream of?” He asked, needing to know why his wife had left their room after a nightmare instead of waking him up.

She lost her smile too, her body tenser than moments ago. “Nothing important.”

“Please, tell me.”

She took a deep breath and some time to answer. Rowan didn’t mind, he’d give her eternity if she needed as long as he knew what troubled his wife. He got up, lifted Aelin's legs so he could sit next to her, and then rested her legs on his while he caressed her thighs in comfort. “I was you.”

“With Maeve?”

She shook her head making his confusion grow. She had already told him about nightmares of him being taken on that beach, of him being whipped and tortured for months. He had held her as she cried, as she told him the pain of losing him would have been so much more than the pain she experienced all these months away from him.

“In Arobynn’s cave.” She whispered as tears pooled in her eyes. He wouldn’t take her in his arms, he would wait for her to do it first, no need to overwhelm her. “With your eyes missing, whole body destroyed and a cold body.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Fireheart…”

“Have you ever dreamed of me like that?” She asked and he knew she didn’t mean just dreams of her, dead.

“I did.” He admitted, his heart beating faster at the thought of it. “First in Wendlyn, when you left for Rifthold. Every time I closed my eyes I lived the day I found Lyria over and over again. But it wasn’t her small body that I saw, it was yours. It haunted me for months.” He took a deep breath, controlling his emotions. Aelin was crying, she didn’t need someone else to become a wreck. “Then when you told me you were pregnant, it started again.”

It happened more than he wanted to admit. He knew it wouldn’t happen, it was impossible, but he still could see her dead body in front of his destroyed mountain home.

Aelin didn’t say anything but she straddled him, his hands finding her waist as her fingers slipped through his hair. Her forehead came to rest on his as they both closed their eyes, enjoying each other’s company. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

His hand stroked her back, his fingers drawing the lines of his tattoo he knew by heart now. Every part of her body was written in his mind. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I know it’s rare lately.” Her warm hand cupped his cheek and he sighed in her embrace. “Whenever I don’t feel okay and you’re not around, I come here.”

“The library?”

“Or the theater if I feel like walking.” Which wasn’t a lot lately, his wife’s pregnancy was taking her so much energy they didn’t go to the theater in months. She was always so tired or in pain, he knew she missed it. “Whenever I’m here, I feel so close to you, as if part of your soul was here between these walls.”

His heart clenched at it, he lifted up his head, his lips settled gently on hers. He kissed her languidly, generously, putting as much love and passion as he could. He loved her so much he felt like dying. He would die without her.

Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt, her tongue continuing to play with Rowan's. The kiss turned from passionate to needy. He needed the reassurance she was here, she was with him, and his mate knew it.

In a matter of moments, Rowan was shirtless and had pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing her naked body. Aelin had gained weight in the years since the war, her body that had once been too thin was now full. She had had a hard time adjusting, she had been starving most of her life. Even during her years with Arobynn, she was always under a strict diet to stay the best. She had never been in a stable enough place for her to thrive.

So when her flat stomach rounded out, thighs grew and cheeks filled out, it was a shock. Rowan had been there to worship her body day and night, reminding her that she was just living, and seeing her happy was the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.

One of Rowan’s hands was teasing Aelin’s sensitive nipple, tearing little cries out of her perfect, delicate, lips. Her hands undid his buckle quickly as Rowan lifted his hips to slide his pants and underwear down, freeing his hard member.

Aelin didn’t waste time before taking him, her hand around him applying just the right amount of pressure. His hand slipped between her legs, directly finding her wet and warm entrance. They moaned together as Aelin’s hand movement quickened and Rowan plunged two fingers in her warmth, hitting that spot inside of her that made her scream every time.

As good as it was, Rowan craved something else, so when he groaned Aelin understood. He pulled out his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste her. No matter how many years had passed since the first time, Rowan kept being surprised at how good she tasted. He moaned around his fingers as Aelin teased her entrance with his erection before sinking down, making both of their heads drop back.

Being inside of her had always felt so good, had always felt so right, as if he had been born just to do this. Her belly prevented their chests from touching but Rowan didn’t mind as he ran his hands on every inch of her skin as she started moving.

Aelin kept bouncing slowly on top of him, taking her time as she chased her pleasure, and once again Rowan realized how much he loved her. His Fireheart, his mate, his wife, and his best friend.

He loved her so damn much and he told her so, repeated it over and over again as they both fell over the edge, gripping the other’s skin as they reached the peak of pleasure.

They were both breathless as he lifted her up, pulling out of her and he used his shirt to clean her up. He didn’t want to get dressed not yet, anyway. He lied on his side, tucking his Fireheart next to him. That way, every inch of his front could touch her back. One of his hands came to rest on her belly as he took her book, opening it to where she had left a bookmark.

“What are you doing?” She asked him, her voice sleepy. He used his magic to extinguish most of the candles in the bookstore, leaving only the ones behind him lit to give him some light. "Shhh." He said softly into her ear, moving slightly to be more comfortable, and pulled her even closer to him. "You don't have to come back to reality now."  He told her then began to read her book aloud.

He couldn’t see her but deep down, he left her smile as she put her hand against his, both of them holding their baby as they hugged each other.

Aelin fell asleep quickly but Rowan didn’t stop reading, even if after many hours his voice became hoarse and his throat hurt. But if his Fireheart heard him maybe she would know he was still here, even in her sleep.

—————

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

[crusherthedoctor]

Can you list anything you unironically like in the games (and cartoons and comics) that you don't like?

I won't bother mentioning music, since that goes without saying and is to be expected for a Sonic game... unless you're Chronicles.

Sonic Adventure 2 (mixed gameplay-wise, annoying story-wise) - While I prefer Sonic's SA1 levels for a number of reasons, I still think his and Shadow's gameplay in SA2 is fun on its own merit. I also don't mind the treasure hunting gameplay returning or how big the levels are this time around, since Knuckles and Rouge are still fast and not '06 levels of slow. It's mainly the gimped radar that creates the unfortunate domino effect of making them a problem.

- Introduced Rouge, one of my favourite characters for how playful she is and how she's a lot more nuanced and intelligent than you'd expect.

- Some genuinely good scenes, like Eggman's trap on the A.R.K and Sonic escaping from the G.U.N. helicopter.

- Had some good ideas going for it, like the Pyramid Base and the Biolizard as a scientific monster instead of an ancient one.

- Despite my thoughts on the backstory itself (or rather, its execution), Shadow has enough depth and subtle qualities and occasional unintended hilarity to stand out from the typical dark rival characters you see in media.

- The Last Scene's music in particular is one of my favourite cutscene tracks in the series.

Sonic Heroes (mixed gameplay-wise, loathed story-wise) - The gameplay is fun when you're not being screwed over by repetitive combat, overly long levels and/or ice physics.

- Boasts some of the most consistently Genesis-worthy environments in the 3D games, up there with SA1's and Colours'.

- The in-game dialogue that isn't the same tutorial drivel repeated ad nauseam can be interesting, funny, etc.

- Reintroduced the Chaotix, which provided me with another character I quite like in the form of Vector.

- Bringing Metal Sonic back in full force and front and center in the plot after a long absence (not counting cameos and the like) is a perfectly fine idea. Just... not like this.

Sonic Battle (decent yet repetitive gameplay, mixed story-wise) - Emerl's arc is compelling, and it earns the emotional weight of having to put him down at the end.

- While some characters are iffy (read: Amy), other characters are extremely well-handled. Shadow is probably the prime example.

- Gamma's belly dance healing animation is fucking hilarious.

- When I was young, and the game was first announced, I was really excited about being able to play as Chaos. This proved to be my downfall when it turned out he was arguably one of the worst characters in the game due to being slower than me during the writing process, but I still recall that excitement fondly.

Shadow the Hedgehog (comedy classic) - The sheer amount of legendary stupidity this game has going for it makes it practically impossible to actually hate. It helps that it's not quite as white-knighted on the same level as '06... usually. You know you're in for a unique experience when you hear a gunshot every time you click something in the menu.

- By extension, Black Doom never gained an unironic fanbase like Mephiles/Scourge/Eggman Nega did, which means I'm a lot more willing to take Doom's dumbass brand of villainy in stride. He even has a unique design... a terrible one that rips off Wizeman granted, but alas, even that is a step-up from Fridge Shadow and Bumblebee Eggman.

- Despite being... well, Shadow the Hedgehog, some of the environments would fit right in with any other Sonic game, like with Circus Park, Lava Shelter, and Digital Circuit. Even the Black Comet levels look pretty cool.

- This game understands amnesia better than IDW does.

Sonic '06 (what do you think?) - The obvious one: Shadow's character was handled pretty well, even if it came at the cost of everyone else being a dummy and being forced to interact with Mephiles.

- Like SA2, there are some good moments, like the Last Story ending sequence with Sonic and Elise.

- In the greatest form of irony ever, I like Solaris as a concept and design(s), and its backstory has potential to serve as a parallel with Chaos without being a complete ripoff. Iblis sucks, Mephiles sucks, but I'm fine with Solaris.

- Introduced legendary characters like Sonic Man, Pele the Beloved Dog, Hatsun the Pigeon, and Pacha from The Emperor's New Groove.

The Rivals duology (apathetic outside of Nega-related grumbling) - There were some cool zone ideas in both games that were sadly let down by the restrictive and limiting gameplay. I particularly like Colosseum Highway for thus far being the only full-on Roman level in the series instead of merely having a couple minor hints of Roman, and Meteor Base for the unique scenario of the space station being built into an asteroid. These level concepts and others deserve a second chance IMO. (At least Frontier Canyon got a second chance in the form of Mirage Saloon, amirite?)

- Ifrit has a better design than Iblis. Not saying it's amazing, but the Firebird motif it has going on is a lot more interesting for a fire monster than the Not-Chaos schtick they had with Iblis.

Sonic and the Secret Rings (a very frustrating gaming experience) - Erazor Djinn, A.K.A. Qui-Gon Djinn, A.K.A. Dr. N. Djinn, A.K.A. I'll Take It On The Djinn, A.K.A. Not From The Hairs On My Djinny Djinn Djinn, is one of the best villains not associated with Eggman in the series. He's a Mephiles-type character done right, and there's actual weight and reason to his actions, however sinister or petty.

- I don't have strong opinions either way on Shahra as a character, but the Sonic/Shahra friendship is sweet and well-handled.

- The ending is one of Sonic's greatest moments. The sheer contrast between how ruthlessly he deals with Erazor and how comforting he is towards Shahra speaks volumes... Still gonna make fun of the mountain of handkerchiefs though. (Before anyone lectures me, I understand the significance of it and can even appreciate it from that angle... doesn't mean I'm not allowed to poke fun at it. :P)

- Another game with some redeeming environments. I love the aesthetic of Night Palace, and Sand Oasis looks gorgeous too.

Sonic Chronicles (my personal least favourite game in the series) - Uh...

- Um...

- Er...

- I like Shade's design?

Sonic Unleashed (overrated game and story IMO) - The obvious two: the opening sequence and the Egg Dragoon fight deserve all the praise they get.

- Seeing Eggmanland come to life was an impressive moment to be sure. While part of me does feel it didn't quite measure up to what I had in mind (ironically, the Interstellar Amusement Park ended up being closer to what I had in mind), it still looks badass and works well for what it is. I also don't mind the idea of it being a one-level gauntlet... key word being idea.

- Obviously, the game looks great. Not a fan of the real world focus (real world inspiration is fine, but copy-pasting the real world and shoving loops in it is just unimaginative), but it can't be denied that the environments look good.

- This game pulled off dialogue options a lot better than Chronicles did, since they didn't rely on making Sonic OoC.

Sonic and the Black Knight (just kind of boring all around) - Despite my gripes with the story (Merlina wasn't nearly as fleshed out as her unique anti-villain status deserved, which ends up severely undermining the ambition of the plot in more ways than one, and the other characters go from being useless yes men for King Arthur to being useless yes men for Sonic), I will admit it provides interesting insight into Sonic's character.

- Like '06 and Secret Rings, the ending is very nice... well, aside from Amy being an unreasonable bitch ala Sonic X at the very end.

Sonic the Hedgehog 4 (apathetic) - The admittedly few new concepts sprinkled within had promise. They may not have been as fleshed out as they could have been, but level concepts like Sylvania Castle and White Park, bosses like Egg Serpentleaf and the Egg Heart, and story beats like the Death Egg mk.II being powered by Little Planet, all could have been brilliant had they been better executed.

SatAM (apathetic outside of SatAM Robotnik-related grumbling) - I'm not a fan of the environments on the whole due to them looking too bland or samey, but there are some exceptions that look pleasant or interesting, like the Void.

Sonic Underground (apathetic) - The character designs make me feel better about myself.

- Does "large quantities of unintentional meme material" count as a positive?

Sonic X (mostly apathetic outside of Eggman's handling) - Helen was a better human character and audience surrogate in her one focus episode than Chris was throughout his entire runtime.

- Actually, most of the human characters not named Chris were legitimately likable. Including everyone in Chris' own family not named Chris. Hilarious.

- Despite arguably having the most Chris in it, I actually don't mind the first season that much, partly due to slight nostalgia from seeing it on TV when it was new, but mostly because Eggman actually acted like a villain for the most part, and certain other characters weren't quite as flanderized yet. It's season 2 and onwards where things started going off the rails IMO. (Incidentally, Helen's episode was part of season 1...)

The Boom franchise (apathetic) - Along with Chronicles, the games provide yet more proof that just because someone isn't SEGA/Sonic Team, that doesn't mean they're automatically more qualified to handle the series.

- The show had some good episodes here and there, and Tails' characterization was probably the most consistently on-point out of the cast.

- Despite not exactly being favourite portrayals for either character, even I'll admit that many of Knuckles and Eggman's lines in the show on their own were genuinely funny.

Archie Sonic (pre-reboot is mostly terrible, post-reboot is mostly... bland) - Whenever I doubt myself as a writer, I think back to Ken Penders, and suddenly I'm filled with a lot more confidence.

Sonic the Comic (apathetic) - Fleetway isn't a comic I tend to recall much of aside from how much of a loathesome cunt Sonic is, but IIRC, Robotnik's portrayal is pretty good. Different, but good.

IDW Sonic (stop pissing me off, comic) - Putting their handling aside (and being too obviously "inspired" by MGS in the latter's case), Tangle and Whisper are good characters IMO.

- Same goes for Starline, before he was killed off-screen and replaced with Toothpaste Snively.

- Execution aside (noticing a pattern?), the zombot virus was a fine concept on its own and an interesting new scheme for Eggman.

- I get to remind myself that I've never drawn scat edits and posted them publicly on Twitter.

[wowsoboring]

Deconstructing Baseless Harry Potter Arguments#2 (i) : Harmione Edition

Obviously I once again do not mean to target all Harmione shippers. I know quite a few who're very good human beings and tolerant and accepting above all. However these aren't. In this case, you might sense quite a bit of levelheadedness in the beginning, however you must not be fooled as it goes south and takes a nasty turn very quickly. Don't get your hopes up, this is some of the worst shit I've ever seen, especially the way in which it progresses through its course. Naturally, for this post I have picked my own style of writing which will match that of those redditors. Reddit is the perfect breeding ground for all these weird cults, honestly. I shall be resorting to a formal language and style of conversation, very much like a debater would to sound as pretentious as these do. These posts are found on the instagram handle toxicharmonyshippers who gather such toxic musings and sayings for Harmione shippers while respecting the ones that are nice.

1)

Oh yes, let's use words like 'vehemently' to sound smart, why not? Of course, this little tidbit of the highly stupendous post seems more or less civil at the start. They also have the common decency to say "some Romione shippers" rather than generalizing all of us. Very nice of you, how very saint like. Let's wait till they drop the act and show us their true colors. Harkening back to the argument, I have but one question for you, "where do you find these people?". Where's the proof? Who are these radical Romione shippers who worship Ron and dislike Hermione? I haven't seen any such shippers and I am surrounded by Romione shippers on tumblr, instagram and fan fiction sites as well and haven't met the people you speak of. Some point out her flaws, yes, but no one hates her or dislikes her that much. I have seen two or three Romione shippers across hundreds and thousands who're skeptical of Hermione's perfection. Skeptical. Not hating, disliking, or anything. Of course, unlike this person, I have evidence: find these pi charts for your referral (clickable): https://imgur.com/a/QfPnQbB

you can, through these, see the amount of Hermione bashing across Harry Potter fanfiction and you can see that even in Romione fanfiction there's more Ron bashing. Hermione-bashing is a non-issue. That's what it is. Regarding the "nagging" statement, where's the lie in that? "Annoying" is somewhat subjective, I personally don't find her annoying at all. Who are these people and how often do you find them? "Mary Sue" is only reserved for Movie!Hermione. I have only seen book fans call her that. No one has ever called Book!Hermione Mary Sue. The movie does paint her as a flawless, all-rounder who's also drop-dead gorgeous. Only things she's bad at are flying and divination, all of which she denounces as useless, even though flying is like biking for wizards, divination, sure, not that important. with a teacher like Trelawney, even I would denounce it as hokum.

2)

Remember what I said about waiting for them to show us their true colors, well here they are. Bask in the glory of their senseless arguments. Why, I am from reddit, heck I have 25 thousand karma points on there, I just left because it was too stupid for me but I can argue like them very well. And in this case I would like to say that these people are under the impression that Ron is just there in the story for the sake of existence. And he doesn't work hard. That argument is of course, wrong. Because Ron (in no particular order):

1) fights a troll when he's 11

2) is willing to sacrifice himself when he's 11

3) stands up for his friends

4) makes sure Harry feels like he belongs in the family

5) worries about Harry and rescues him from literal jail

6) stands up against Draco rather than by-standing and enabling his behavior

7) tries his level best to make sure Norbert the dragon is in safe hands and carries it out, albeit not in perfection

8) is with Harry every step of the way in his confronting the basilisk

9) sends Harry and Hermione long letters and calls them often to check up on them

10) stands up on a bitten leg to defend his best friend

11) always apologizes for any of his mistakes and is forgiving when others wrong him

12) works his way to join the Quidditch team unlike Draco who most certainly bought his way in

13) destroys at least 2 horcruxes

14) finds out how to defeat a horcrux

15) has an excellent enough memory and observation to notice Harry speaking parseltongue and also using it to his benefit which proves he's resourceful

now since I have 8 more such pictures to rebut and I do have a life, I will stop. These aren't even a twelfth of the remarkable things Ron has done though, so rest assured.

oh wait what did you say about him just existing and not working for anything? If I recall correctly, he did just as well as Harry did in school and didn't score well only in subjects he didn't care about. Which is true for most people except for Hermione who has an eidetic memory which not everyone has, understandably. Rote memorization is not the best way to get by in life, by the way.

what are the "so many reasons" behind why Harry is the best fit for Hermione? Kindly share so I can rebut those too, I'm rather free nowadays, my finals have been cancelled. You say there are so many reasons but don't even give one, yet you want me to take you seriously. I'm afraid that's impossible.

Romione shipper here, i don't dislike Hermione. I haven't met or seen many people in the book!romione fandom who dislike Hermione (except for Movie!Hermione). The question of someone you like ending up with someone you dislike doesn't particularly make sense. In Friends, Chandler ends up with Monica: now I'm not the biggest Monica fan (I don't hate her but I don't like her very much either) but they are my favorite couple because they make sense. It's about compatibility and character traits, not liking or disliking because that's just a set-up for a ghastly invitation for people to pair up hideousness. "Oh yeah, I like Harry and I also like Hagrid, they should be together. I mean it would be very very disgusting but that's my logic, now, you can't fight it. "- that's how you sound. Please read what you write. Your logic is just...abysmal. That's all I can say without breaking my resolve and berating you with colorful profanities.

3)

This is without the doubt, the easiest one to rebut. It's a delight to see such terrible arguments at my disposal. Come on, dear Harmione shippers, write something that makes me question my choices, not things that make me scoff in disbelief.

In this case, you're essentially providing us with theories. Unproved theories and speculation of what you believe because you'd say anything you like. Where's the proof of your theory, though? Where is that crazy radical Romione shipper who does this? Kindly show me these people. Oh yes, you wanna say we objectify Hermione and disrespect her and view her as a prize. This aches me, that you believe this. No one has ever insinuated this, ever, in the history of anything. What is this winner-loser theory? How do you round off Harry Potter to "an alpha-male ends up with lead-lady" trope and still say you're a fan of the series? Harry Potter doesn't fit in with that format. Ron, Hermione and Harry are co-heroes. Similar to how there's no main character in Friends or the Heroes of Olympus series or the Avengers. We're not living in the 80s anymore. Hermione will be a hero, invariably whether she ends up with Harry, Ron or no one. She ends up with Ron and that's it. Talking about her like this doesn't make you sound any better either. Now you're calling me a misogynist because I don't support the ship of two people who describe themselves as siblings. That's very mature of you. Well here's the thing- I'm not a misogynist. It's as simple as that. I believe that women are capable of anything and everything. I believe Hermione is an amazing person and she is a hero and a different person. I believe the series would be impossible without her. I believe she is no one's prize. There's no requirement of a prize. I just think, similar to canon and the truth and her romantic interest, she will have a great relationship with Ron. There's nothing complex or deep about it, really. No personal weird-thing, no psychological complex, no internalized misogyny. There's nothing deeper than what I said. I am not sexist. I am a feminist. I am all for women empowerment. I love women with the fabric of my being. I love Hermione. I think she's amazing. You only become sexist when you ship people with unstable power dynamics, a bully-victim relation or something of the sort. Neither Romione, nor Harmione are sexist. Heck if you paired Neville with Hermione you wouldn't be sexist. And I hate talking about this so much, I can't even tell you. This talk does make it sound like I treat Hermione like an object and I assure you I respect her and I normally won't talk like this unless someone just outright calls me sexist for something that's not sexist. And this is that situation.

4)

in the case of Romione, no one is too good for anyone. Both are amazing people who're heroes and have done amazing work. That's all I have to say. There's no league, they are romantically interested in each other. I have no intention on sounding lame, but, in love there is no league. As long as you're not putting in any effort and are extremely lazy and leech off of your partner, there is no such concept and no, Hermione is not "too good" for him. Unless of course you're talking about movie Hermione, who is too good for anyone.

5) (halftime!)

oh yes they try to pull this off and wonder why we hate them. Classic. This person likes to sound british, so let's switch up our language, yeah? At least then I won't be out of my element. Let me correct ya, Ron at his best is an amazing, loyal, friendly, brave, strategic hero. There you have it. Ron and 'git' can't be used in the same sentence. Now if you talk about Ron's achievements, I re-iterate you to point two. If it's too much work, here:

1) fights a troll when he's 11

2) is willing to sacrifice himself when he's 11

3) stands up for his friends

4) makes sure Harry feels like he belongs in the family

5) worries about Harry and rescues him from literal jail

6) stands up against Draco rather than by-standing and enabling his behavior

7) tries his level best to make sure Norbert the dragon is in safe hands and carries it out, albeit not in perfection

8) is with Harry every step of the way in his confronting the basilisk

9) sends Harry and Hermione long letters and calls them often to check up on them

10) stands up on a bitten leg to defend his best friend

11) always apologizes for any of his mistakes and is forgiving when others wrong him

12) works his way to join the Quidditch team unlike Draco who most certainly bought his way in

13) destroys at least 2 horcruxes

14) finds out how to defeat a horcrux

15) has an excellent enough memory and observation to notice Harry speaking parseltongue and also using it to his benefit which proves he's resourceful

hey, see, I like Ron and I took the time to copy-paste this instead of asking you to scroll up. And I'm a lot of bad things but I am not lazy. I stick to my deadlines like Hermione. I start my homework in library class and continue it during phys ed the day its given. And I am not exaggerating. Bloody hell, I wish I was. I'm the ceo of deadlines, mate, don't tempt me! So you can see that Ron is much more than just a "nice bloke". And being a "nice bloke" isn't a bad thing either. He's all the things I said: intuitive, strategic, helpful, loyal and on top of that he's also a nice person. Yes, I do see a bit of myself in Ron. I do. I see the insecure side. I waste my time hating myself and criticizing myself and undermining myself, telling me I'm no good. But Ron overcomes that. He inspires me to appreciate myself. Is that a bad thing? Are you going to shame me for having a low self-esteem? Do you want to worsen my low self-esteem and make me feel more like shit?

Now the person who replied to your comment saying, "he isn't a nice bloke most of time.", he is. He is not being nice twice in a span of 7 years. How often do you act rudely or with jealousy? Wasn't Harry yelling at everyone in caps lock in OOTP. Now I don't condemn him for that because he's a fucking hormonal teenager like me and that would make me a hypocrite, but by your logic why don't you condemn him? Or why not condemn Hermione for saying "I only date good Quidditch players" and shoving canaries at Ron's face because someone else kissed him, while she kept using Krum and Cormac to make him jealous. She wasn't being a nice girl, then, was she? Now, once again, i don't dislike her or hold that against her because guess what, mate, I'm a hormonal teenage girl who gets jealous most of the time and would probably react in a similar fashion in the spur of the moment (Not defending her actions here, just putting myself in her shoes.) In short, Ron is a nice bloke MOST OF THE TIME.

6)

It would be misogynistic to think that. The thing is, NO ONE DOES my dear friend! My dear daft friend. I have never heard anyone say that! why are you so hell-bent on portraying us as misogynists when no one ever says that? Stop assuming. Just stop. You are crossing a limit here, aren't you? Yes you are. You cannot say these sort of things. We never said that or believed that, no one ever said this to be a reason to ship Romione. God what is wrong with you? Literally, stop fucking ASSUMING god damn it! Do you want me to assume things about Harmione shippers? Do you want me to go there? Because I will go there! I will go there the moment you tell me to. Just challenge me.

Ron is not a perfect best boi , the reason why so many of us like him is that he's imperfect and tries to become better through the course of time. You are once again assuming and I am once again asking you to stop.

Ron might be an ordinary wizard. He might be poor, sure, but he's a pure-blood and won't face much if he chose not to fight. But he did. He fought. Now I identify with Ron's attitude a fair bit, but I am also likely to spend my day in a library without noticing. People aren't one dimensional. Stop trying to act like you're a psychologist, i know you're not. I don't even think Hermione's overbearing at all! You just insulted someone you're a big fan of. Jesus.

Both Hermione and Ron are strategic, jealous, passionate, feisty, argumentative, intellectual...

that's like 6 similarities. They aren't polar opposites in the slightest. Their differences are just: workaholic, not workaholic. Nerd, not a nerd. Like that's fucking it, man!

8)

being relaxed doesn't make you less independent or driven. A relaxed and levelheaded Hermione will think through things, not be impulsive, not panic etc. She doesn't need Ron. I don't understand your obsession with acting like we ever insinuated that. Then she doesn't need Harry either lol. Stop shipping her with Harry, then or like shut the fuck up. Being a bit relaxed won't stop her or anyone from hitting great strides. Just don't get relaxed to the point you're lazy and casual about everything, that's it.

9)

What do you mean? Ron is balanced. He does finish his work on time. And even if he does procrastinate, she could also help him not and be more driven. Of course, this is an open invitation for you to call me a sexist bitch because I said that she could help him and now you'll think her goal is to help him become better yada yada yada. Fuck off. Defeating the horcrux taught him enough. He respected her. He remembered about the elves when she didn't. He begged to be tortured instead of her. He wouldn't need it because school work and jobs are different and the same person might perceive those differently. Calmness and relaxation doesn't hinder your potential. Not caring and laziness does. You can't function if you work and are stressed 24/7 with zero breaks. Period.

10)

No i do not want (nor does anyone want) Hermione to become Ron. Being slightly calmer doesn't change up your personality. I'm sure many people dislike those sort of fanfics without a doubt. I hate OOC and I don't want Hermione to lose her intellect with Ron because that makes no sense. Ron himself is intellectual and loves arguing with her. They'd boost each other, more like it.

-------

okay thats it i am exhausted as fuck. thanks for reading, i appreciate it. notes and reblogs are appreciated, this takes work.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Queen of Masks ~ Alfie Solomons

Life as a woman, in any country really, isn’t the best, unless you score a jackpot with the most gentle, sweetest man and you become his housewife and agree to be some kind of baby factory and a maid, should he not have enough to provide for one, and a chef, nonetheless.

However, there are enough ambitious women who have enough spite in their veins to trample over anyone standing in their path of success, and would spit on graves and crush cadavers under their heeled boots that they wear with much pride and conviction.

That is exactly the case of Y/N, a gorgeous woman who won against all odds and became a Veterinary Physician in London, Camden, to be precise, and had to work under an older man who had a clinic - But it was fine, she got to learn loads, and interacting with animals on a daily basis was enough to keep her going and not to answer to any provocation from her male colleague who was far inferior to her, intellectually and intuitively speaking.

And one day, after tending to a gorgeous black race stallion, a tall and broad man walked in with a Bullmastiff boy who, upon seeing her, managed to snatch away his chain leash and jumped on her, trampling her to the ground and licking her all over her face.

The man jumped in shock, trying to pry away his pet from the poor woman, only to notice she was laughing and that he face was bright like the sun, as she tried to wipe away all the slobber from her face.

“I’m so sorry, aye, he’s never done somethin’ like this before. Here, let me help you up, right.” the man extended his hand for her to take, helping raise her up, then reprimanded his dog. “Don’t worry, mister, it’s quite alright. I kinda like when animals act so affectionate, it makes it feel as if I’m doing something right. What’s your name, darling? Let’s get you up on the table...Arghh...What a heavy baby...You’re gonna break every bone in my body...” the woman sweet talked the dog, struggling to hold him in her arms like a baby so she could put in on the table to examine. “He’s name’s Cyril, I got him last year. ‘S just a routine check up, but I think there’s a bump on his neck, yeah, right here.” the man explained, letting the girl palpate his dog and continuing to sweet talk him to calm him down. “Thyroid Carcinoma.” the male doctor spoke, which made the girl whip her head to him with a disturbed look. “Thyroid Cancer? Surely, you must be joking. Have you even been to Vet school?!” Y/N protested, shaking her head in protest at his sudden diagnosis. “What else could a bump in the thyroid area mean? Don’t play smart, just be humble and accept when you’re wrong.” the man rolled his eyes, not lifting his head from his papers. “First of all, even if it IS a tumour, it doesn’t HAVE to be cancer, it can still be completely harmless, thus, benign. Secondly, out of all tumours a dog can have, thyroid cancer is the least common one, the percentage going to maximum 2%. Therefore, NOT cancer! Besides, it could be hyperthyroidism, if you want to go over the top, but again, it could just be something the owner felt because something got stuck in his neck and-....Oh.” the girl then carefully touched the neck area, and smiled widely, looking down, nodding to herself. “What? You shut up ‘cause you finally realised I was right, despite your useless statistics?” the doctor grumbled in annoyance, not caring, obviously. “Wanna bet 100 pounds that it’s not cancer?” she asked, kissing Cyril’s head and playing with his floppy ears, action which made the dog bark playfully. “Ah, sorry, mister, I didn’t ask for your name and whether you find it insensitive or not for us to bet on a diagnosis.” she smiled awkwardly, extending her hand towards the bearded man who was watching the interaction carefully. “Alfie Solomons, lass, but call me just Alfie, right? So, yeah, ‘s fine, bet all you want, just make my boy better, eh?” Alfie shook the girl’s hand, seeing her cunningly going to the other doctor and spitting in her hand to shake and make the bet go through.  “Okay, Alfie, you might want to step to the side a bit...If you value your shoes, that it. They look pretty new.” she chuckled softly, signing him with her head to move to the side, and so he did, as she made the dog vomit, and thus, revealing a small ball. “Oi, I can’t believe it! You stupid dog, Cyril, aye, how could you manage to swallow your own toy, yeah?!” Alfie gasped, his brows furrowing from shock. “Weirdly enough, dogs, especially big ones, are prone to swallowing little things, just like human babies are. It was small enough to just make him cough, but it’s a good thing you got him here in time.” the girl started quickly cleaning up the floor as she explained everything, as the Jew was still staring in shock at the idiocy of some animals. “Well, lass, thank you for solving the mystery, yeah, of whatever the hell this was, right. So, then, tell me how much I have to pay you for this consult, aye.” Alfie asked, which made her snap her head upwards, looking up at him, her eyes wide in shock. “No, God, no, nothing, it’s on me! I mean, if it weren’t for you...” Y/N smirked, reminding Alfie of a vixen, as she twirled around and went to snatch away the hundred pounds banknotes from her employer’s hand, who was looking at her with anger and bitterness. “I wouldn’t have been paid more than I’m paid in 3 months in just one day! It’s the least I can do to thank you...And to also see Cyril again, because I think it’s a connection. Right, Cyril? You’re such a sweet baby boy-....ARGH, GODS, NO-...!” but before the girl could compose herself, Cyril jumped on her torso, knocking her down again, coating her face in yet another sleek coat of drool from the lickings. “Damn it, Cyril, you’re impossible! Let the poor lass live, eh? I know, I know, she’s pretty, but leave her alone, alright?” after he finally managed to pry away the canine, he helped the girl up, who, once again, was laughing. “Let me make it up to you, yeah, for all the trouble this prankster’s been giving you, right. I’ve this bakery, y’know, the one nearby, so, anything you want, yeah, anything, you ask for it, you say my name, right, you say Alfie owes you a favour, and it’s all on the house, eh. How’s that.” he spoke, and he could see that her overly confident and extra demeanour shattered in an instant, making her look down, her beautiful, long hair hiding her features, as she was most likely blushing and smiling. “O-Oh, then, if that’s your bakery, means I’ve heard of you, you’re THE Alfie Solomons. Yeah, I’d love that, if you’d have me, but I told you, you don’t have to. I used you to get money worth of about 3 months, or more, so really, I should be thanking you somehow, but I don’t really have anything else to offer, other than to pay for the consult myself.” her serious, boastful voice turned very soft and shy, as fast as the flick of her fingers, as she walked him out of the clinic, so only he would hear. “Your boss there...He seemed kinda...Angry, eh. Are you gonna be fine dealing with him, lass?” he asked, bending down a bit, speaking to her tone level. “I guess. What’s the worst he can do, anyway. Besides, I care more about this conversation right now, and...About this.” she smirked softly, showing off the rolled pounds from her coat’s chest pocket. “So, Mr. Gangster, is there any specific time you’d be okay with me coming by the bakery? Maybe...Under the pretext of yet another regular check up on Cyril? Or...The smell of freshly baked cookies just captured me enough to find myself senselessly walking into the place?” she asked, diving her hands into her pockets, waiting for an answer, too timid to look him in the eye. “Ahhh, I see you’ve heard of me. Well, lass, I guess I can’t pretend to be some ordinary man, right, but maybe we can still enjoy a nice chat once in a while, eh, it would be nice, right?” the corner of Alfie’s mouth turned upwards, extending his hand for her to shake. “Y/N L/N, it’s great meeting you, Alfie. And yeah, it would be great. I’ll be seeing you around, alright? Hope I’ll see you soon and maybe we can have a nice cup of tea and anything that you’ve baked. I’m looking forward to that.” she shook his hand, smiling brightly at him, gesture which he turned. “And I’ll be seeing you as well, sweetheart.” with that, she kissed Cyril’s head once again, before waving Alfie goodbye and walking back into the clinic. “And I’ll be seeing you too...Y/N.” the gangster muttered, grinning at his dog and praising him with a few pats on his head. “Cyril, my boy, you’re my lucky charm.”

A week passed, and Y/N walked into the bakery - However, it wasn’t the front up, the bakery shop that smelled heavenly - It meant the gangster warehouse where Alfie would usually conduct his business meetings. And, of course, it was shocking to him when heard the click of heels and saw a beautiful, slender woman, dressed in high-waisted pants, with a black turtleneck tucked in her pants, beautiful brown leather boots with heels and a black trench coat that elegantly, yet imposingly hung from her shoulders, as if she was some kind of mafia Queen - Elegant, but deadly.

“Hello, Alfie. I heard you have a job around this place. Not sure what it is...Medic? Secretary? Dog-walker? Maybe you could fill me in.” she asked, her hands in her pants, fidgeting in her spot. “Where’ve you heard about this...Supposed job, eh, lass? And why’d you quit your job from the clinic, eh?” he asked, his fingers intertwining as he leaned forward, elbows rested on his desk. “Ah, well...Y’know...I got my medical license pulled, so I need a way to make money, and you’re the only one that I trusted not to treat me like garbage, so here I am. I know there’s no job, but I had to try my luck and be comedic in a way. It’s probably about the only thing I’m good at, sort of. It’s fine if you don’t want to give me a job, I mean, you can’t trust me with your business info after just speaking to me once, I can imagine, and - “ she kept on ranting, until Alfie raised both his hands in the air to calm her down and stop her speaking, before he raised to his feet, getting in front of the desk and leaning back on it. “Well, I did owe you a favour, right, so, sure, you’re hired, right, I’ll find you something. While we’re at it, can you, yeah, can you fire a gun?” he asked, with a mix of seriousness and playfulness in his voice. “Is it...In the job requirements?” she asked, looking around the place with a fake kind of curiosity. “There’s no job seeking, yeah, so, therefore, no job requirements. I was just being curious, alright, y’know, I have to know what everyone around is capable of, okay.” he explained, which made her smirk and turn on her heel to look at him. “That’s only fair. After all, now that you know that I’m particularly incapable of defending myself against people in general, you’ll just have to be extra careful to keep me safe, right, Alfie? We wouldn’t want Cyril to grieve over me, would we?” she chuckled, extending her arms to her side in a dramatic manner. “Haha, yes, lass, I s’ppose you’re right. Can you handle more than one job, eh? I can hire you as a physician, right, but we don’t always have wounded men, yeah, so, you’re a smart woman, alright, I’m sure you are very capable of reading, writing, doing calculus and other stuff that involves using your head, right, so, I don’t know what name will this job have, but, maybe an assistant of sort, eh? Ollie here helps me out a lot, yeah, but he can’t do everything, he ain’t some God, y’know.” Alfie gesticulated, pointing towards Ollie, then tried to explain to her that things are serious, and not to be taken lightly. “Guess this is gonna be the thrill of my life, huh? I’m in, Alfie. At least I can get along with you without fearing having my license pulled-...Oh, wait, I have nothing to fear about anymore.” she chuckled in a self-deprecating way, making Alfie cross his arms to his chest. “You never told me what happened. Go on, tell me. I’m sure you didn’t kill a dog, or somethin’, you’re too smart a doctor to fuck up.” his curiosity got the better of him, as he saw her turning to look at him, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly agape, and he could almost see her brain gears moving, trying to think of a witty answer. “Didn’t you say something about freshly baked goodies and tea? I bet that’s gonna be a much more...Hospitable way of chatting with your new employee, wouldn’t it? Or better said, friendlier? I mean, this place is so...Ugly and humid...Only good for gangster business. The echo here, if you shout, can intimidate anyone, I’m sure. Come on, show me the actual bakery...And you better have a gramophone. I like music.” she smiled up at him, hooking her arm to his, pulling him in a random direction to urge him to guide her to the bakery, where the beautiful smell of bread and cookies mesmerised her, and she playfully swooned in her chair. “I see you’re enjoying this place very much, eh. Well, can’t say I expected you coming today, so I didn’t bake them myself, yeah, but I’ll make it up to you. Sure you want tea and not rum or somethin’?” Alfie asked, a bit awkward staying at the cute little table, with a cute, little cup of tea in his bear-like hands. “Yes, I’m quite sure, Alfie. But it’s fine, you don’t have to drink what I’m drinking, I won’t think of you any differently. In your home, you do as you please.” she chuckled at him, watching as he nodded solemnly, only to down that tea in one go, small droplets of liquid embedding themselves in his beard. “Right, right, I understand, y’er a people pleaser, you want everyone to like you, unless it goes against whatever scheme you have. You’re smart, alright. Very smart, and you’ve sharp eyes, and are cunning. I need someone like you around, yeah. But tell me, how’d you manage to lose your dream job in a week?” Alfie asked, extending his hand to gently grab her chin, pulling it so he could peer right into her gorgeous, vixen-like eyes. “Remember the bet I did when you came around with Cyril? Well, apparently that jerk got mad at me for, to quote, steal his money, so he filed a malpractice lawsuit to get his money back, 5 times more, and pulled away my license, to get revenge on me for humiliating him in front of a customer...Allegedly. Very petty, I know, but, as they say...C’est la vie. Not much to do about it, really. Now I’m seen as a con-artist thief who kills animals, so I have no way of getting a job anywhere anymore, hence why I’m here. Lovely, innit?” she snorted as she took a bit of the cookie, closing her eyes to savour it’s flavour. “And now, I think I died and went to heaven, ‘cause this is the best thing I’ve eaten in my life.” “You’re so hired, lass. Did ya pay the 500 pounds?” he asked, propping his jaw on his hand. “Yeah, thankfully. And by that, I mean I to sell my apartment so now I’m using my saving to stay at a cheap hotel, but, y’know, life’s life. At least I know I won and I was right. Maybe if I had the right connections, I could have won 10 times what I lost...But what do I know. I don’t really know how non-legal things go by.” she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her head in a playfully guilty manner. “Y’know, Y/N...I think we can solve that fairly quick, yeah. Tell me the name, and I’ll make sure things are sold. In the meantime, I’ve a nice, warm room where you can stay, right, and surely, Cyril’s gonna love your company.” Alfie smiled at her, signaling for her to follow him.

At that time, she had no idea this was actually his home, but when she did find out, she was more than grateful, if not, a bit awkward, for  having to rely so much on his kindness. However, just as he promised, Alfie managed to get that jerk of a doctor to pay her 10 times the money she paid him, and thus, she would have been able to get a very modern and luxurious place, only for herself, and even buy a dog, a cat, or hell, more of them.

But she refused, and asked to continue staying with him, if she wasn’t too much of a burden, since she really enjoyed spending time with him, and she had no idea, other than working 200% of her capabilities for her job, whatever that was, at the moment, and, of course, she would have missed Cyril too much.

It didn’t take long for Alfie’s people to realise the obvious chemistry between the two, and Ollie kept trying to convince him to ask her out, but things are always so difficult, aren’t they? Business and logics are much easier than subjective emotions.

It became sort of a routine for everyone around to see their boss writing and reading documents at his desk, while Y/N would sit on the desk, her legs resting on his chair’s back rest, as she would write on her clipboard whatever relevant things she thought were worth noting down, and would occasionally express her opinions regarding ideas that Alfie had, or some businesses that he was dealing with at the moment - All that, with, of course, the frequent witty comments they would exchange - And it was never anything hurtful, or reproachful jabs, only playful and domestic comments that always made her laugh.

“You never told me why you always look down when you interact with people, y’know, and by that, I don’t mean when you’re being some dramatic Queen, but when you’re being yourself. I mean, I haven’t seen women who let their hair so long these days, right, so I was curious about you. You do things much differently than most people, y’know that, don’t you?” Alfie asked, raising his head to look up at her, only to see, once again, trying to think of how to explain things that don’t rely on rational and objective behaviours. “Ah...Well...Uh...Y’know...I’m...My face is very expressive, y’know. So, like...I get embarrassed easily, or...Uhm...When I lie, or something, I tend to grin or laugh. I’m a messy failure who can’t do a pokerface, like, ever, so, since most people are taller than me, if I let my hair cover my face, they won’t see the truth. Or, well, y’know, at least that’s what I hope. I can’t look at them while hiding, so I’ve no way of telling whether it works or not. Contrary to me being flashy and dramatic, I’m kinda shy and terrible around people.” she chuckled awkwardly, looking away from him, bringing up her clipboard to cover half of her face. “Ahhh, I see, I see, so you go to real great lengths, yeah, to get what you want, and so far, you’ve done really well, eh. Is there anything you can’t do, lass? You’ve been doing this job for over a year, and business has improved with...Uh...Lemme see, how much did you say...Ah, yes, here, it says 23%.” he had his glasses on as his eyes scanned the documents on his desk. “I...Can’t socialise, I guess. And I can’t relax. I don’t know how to have fun. Uhm...I can’t human, I guess? I don’t know what to call it, but I think you get what I’m saying. Anyway, we have business work now, so read this paragraph here, I think we have to talk threaten Sabini a bit, he’s over his head now with power, someone has to humble him, give us a better percentage of his business, and -” Y/N tried to quickly redirect the conversation, hating when she had to talk about herself, but obviously, she couldn’t say no to the man who was always so kind and sweet with her, could she? “Nahhh, it’s fine, Y/N, let’s take a little break, right? We’ve been working since early morning, it’s evening now. Ollie, go make tea and bring those treats made today, eh. Now, lass, why don’t you tell me how did you get around to practicing medicine? I’ve always been curious by that, you know, you don’t see many women unafraid of stuff like that, yeah.” he pointed out, letting himself fall down on his chair’s seat, looking up at her. “Y’know, Y/N, you say you can hide your emotions when you hide your face from people taller than you, yeah? But what happens when they look at you from below? Gotta say, Y/N, sometimes, your worried face is rather pretty...Better now, let me look at you when you speak, yeah, we’re equals, when you go all meek on me, you make me feel like some kind o’ merciless boss or somethin’.” he chuckled, raising a bit to put her hair behind her ears, revealing a soft blush coating her cheeks, and god damn, he could feel his heart beating a bit faster. “Uhm...Okay, fine, sure, I owe you that much. Uhm...My dad was a medic too, so it became a family business for a while. And, uhm...Dad was recruited as a war medic, and went with my brother, while I and mum continued to take care of the people and animals from our city. When it was all over, I decided to get to London to practice properly, get more money and provide for my family better. They’re getting old and they need someone to take care of them, somehow.” she explained, but her eyes were darting around, and he could feel she was still hiding something because of her hesitance, but he wasn’t sure what exactly was it that she was trying to hide.

But before either of them could say anything about it anymore, a loud bang echoed through the warehouse, somewhere from the entrance, which made the girl jump in her place with a mouse-like squeak, slapping her hands over her ears.

It’s true, any person would get frightened by a gunshot that resounded so loudly through that place - And yet, this one looked like a panicked, scared fawn in the headlights - And Alfie, of course, noticed that and came to a few conclusions for himself.

However, before he could say anything, a man entered their field of vision, and he could feel Y/N tensing up, her face showing shock and disgust at the person who she clearly recognise. She turned her head to look at Alfie, and with pleading eyes, mouthing a few simple words that may or may not have shocked him.

“Let me kill him” she tried to say, but this mystery man spoke out faster than expected, and it was clear she was getting more and more angry and embarrassed by the moment. “Y/N, darling, what are you doing here? Whoring around with other men, getting into illicit business, thinking you’re superior to men just because you have some over the top ambitions that are completely unreachable, and now you think you can get rich by staying around wealthy old men, huh?” the man kept speaking, igniting an infernal fire into her eyes. “Alfie, I pride myself with my never ending patience, but I swear to God, if you don’t let me kill him...I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” Y/N muttered between her gritted teeth, shocking Alfie since he never saw her as the violent type. “I’m not doing any business with him, alright, do what you feel like doing, Y/N, he’s all yours.” Alfie sat back in his chair, his fingers intertwined over his stomach, watching with interest whatever she was going to do.

Y/N jumped off the desk and slowly prowled around it, her head hanging low, before she snapped it up, glaring lightnings at the man.

“Fuck off. Now. Or you’re dead. Do you understand this simple language, or do I need to put it in words that even a monkey would understand?” she crossed her arms, spitting poison at him. “What, can’t I be angry at my own girlfriend for being a bitch and leaving me alone? I mean, you really fucked up, y’know? You left me when I needed you the most, how tragic is that?!” he yelled at her, but she only rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Yeah, I left you ‘cause you were abusing me. The way I see it, you’re the one who sucks, not me. Now get the hell out of here. Before I do something you will regret.” her voice went an octave lower, threatening him the same way she learnt from Alfie over the time of business making. “Woaw, Y/N, woaw, that’s pathetic, even for you. You’ve never been able to even raise your voice at anyone. You were nothing more than a crybaby who couldn’t step up to anyone, and then you went to war, and what, you think you changed? You didn’t! Underneath this dumb, tough facade that you’re trying to pull in front of everyone else, you’re nothing more than the frightened little girl who needed to have everything in control and grasp a bit of power to feel superior to others after you got beaten up and had a gun pointed at your head by the Germa-” but he couldn’t continue speaking for, in the blink of an eye, she pulled out a gun for her trench coat and shot him in the head, his blood and brains shooting everywhere, all over her, on the walls and floor. “Well...Ask me anything and I will provide you with an answer that is completely honest this time. But, uhm...Take of your shirt, will you?” she had a solemn, pissed off expression as she threw off her coat before hurriedly taking off her shirt, nonchalantly cleaning up her face, then pulling it into a ball, throwing it on the cadaver, then stepped in front of a very shocked, yet impressed Alfie. “Go on, take off your shirt, will you? It’s clean. You promised I’ll never have to shoot a gun, and yet, I did, therefore I need a clean top, right? So, while I tell you the truth, don’t let me stay like this in front of you, okay?” extending her hand in front of her, while her other arm was over her chest, trying to cover her pretty white laced bra, it took a mirthful laugh out of the Jew for him to finally take off his shirt and put it around her, not caring that he was the topless one now. “Will you ever stop impressing and surprising me, lass?” Alfie asked, petting her head as a way to say she did well. “Once I stop shocking myself, sure. Until then...I believe you want to say something, don’t you?” she asked, slowly stepping in front of him, looking up at him as she properly put on his shirt that looked like a dress on her. “Yeah, lass, I think I did.”

With a gentle smile, he cupped her face, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her lips, one hand stroking his fingers through her beautiful long hair, while the other caressed her soft visage. The tender look in his blue-green eyes felt like the safest, warmest haven she ever felt, and with an impulse decision that her heart made, she leaned forward, her arms slowly snaking around his torso, her head resting on his shoulder, and closing her eyes, she could finally feel her heart calming, for the first time in her life.

“It was you who went to war, wasn’t it?” Alfie muttered in her hair, holding her tightly. “Yeah. I don’t have a brother. It was me who went with my father to war, but he died, so I had to be the backbone of the troops. When I got home, my mum was devastated and she died of grief. I left that place to get rid of memories...And get rid of that fuckass. War left me with traumas, but it also made me strong enough to face up to who I am and stop taking everyone’s shit just because they think I’m lesser than them. Sometimes...When you talk about your time as a captain...I remember my time there...And...I realise how much I respect you...And also, how different you are from all the people I had contact with there.” she explained, her grip tightening around him, her heart quivering from the deep emotions she was feeling. “You’ve been through quite a lot in your life, haven’t you, lass? And you managed to make a life all for yourself, from the scratch, right, so, I think you’ve been doing great. France?” he asked, guiding her to a more private room, much warmer and cozier, while Ollie was to find him another shirt. “Yeah, France. Thing is...You went through all that, and it was worse for you, since you were a Captain, and you must have felt responsible for every death from your troops...And yet...Ever since we met, you’ve been sweeter than anyone has ever been, and that includes my own family. Don’t get me wrong, I loved them, but maybe...Maybe I’m just a bit softer than I let others think. And you managed to hit the right spot, in the good way, I mean. War changes everyone, and yet, you’re...I have no fitting word to describe how much I appreciate you, Alfie, but here...This thing here feels it, and I think you can feel what I’m feeling too.” she explained, resting her head on his shoulder once they sat down on the sofa, as he pulled her closer to his side, kissing her temple lovingly. “You know, Y/N...You’re not wrong. I tried not to think about my time there and the horrors I’ve seen, yeah, so, maybe it doesn’t come off as anything fantastic, and I still don’t think that being a decent person, right, to people who are close to me, is a big deal. But maybe sometimes we take things for granted, don’t we, so, maybe, you’re right. But that guy has no excuse for being a bastard. You’re safe now, Y/N, and when some day, when we’re done with this gangster mess...We can go to Margate and live a normal life there, eh. You, me and Cyril, and the sandy beach and the waves, right, and maybe, if we get bored, we can shoot those damned seagulls, yeah? They’re so annoying, I’m telling ya!” Alfie chuckled, which, in turn, made her grin at him lovingly. “I’d love to go to Margate with you, Alfie, and have seagull shooting contests together, and run barefoot on the shore, and if it’s enough light from the moon, we can swim a bit. Sounds like the perfect life if you ask me.” Y/N kissed his cheek, lovingly caressing his face before hugging his side. “That’s what I like to hear, lass. I’m sure Cyril would bark like a mad dog from happiness if he was hear, right. S’gonna be fun when we get home, eh.”

[plumoh]

[SK8] at all times, at all sides

Rating: T

Word count: 7409

Summary: Kaoru is shaped by the choices he makes and the people surrounding him. And through the years, Kojirou was there in one way or another.

Note: AO3 link. This was posted a while after Kaoru’s birthday, as a character study of sorts, birthday by birthday. I make the assumption that in the present day, Kaoru and Kojirou are 27-28 years old.There is a brief mention of alcohol at age 20, and Kaoru is a bit drunk at age 26.

15.

Kaoru gets two additional piercings on his left ear on his fifteenth birthday.

The first one, at what is considered a normal place for an earring in the middle of the earlobe, was done as an impulsive act of brashness to show off to his friends at school at the beginning of the year. He likes the attention. The family name attached to him makes people gasp when they see him with holes in his ear, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t bring him some sort of satisfaction. It’s kind of ridiculous and entirely too stiff an attitude to be offended by some nails stuck into someone else’s skin, as if it changes who he fundamentally is. Besides, piercings are cool.

So Kaoru gets two additional piercings, a helix piercing and another one in the earlobe, and Kojirou whistles.

“You sure your parents won’t cut off your entire ear for that?” he asks, his gaze appraising Kaoru’s new look.

“I’ll live with only one ear, then,” Kaoru answers, shrugging. “What do you think? I look cool, right?”

Kaoru gestures to his ear, grinning and looking at Kojirou expectantly. He knows that he must be acting like a child who got permission to eat a second candy after dinner, but it’s his birthday and he feels he can be excited for what is, essentially, a new approach to his lifestyle. He paid for these piercings with his own pocket money (and money earned through foolish bets and challenges, and he’s thankful that most skaters are stupid).

Kojirou hums, his face pinched in intense concentration. Kaoru rolls his eyes.

“That’s a yes or no question, Kojirou.”

“Let me give you a complete review of your new fashion style, impatient bastard,” Kojirou says.

“I don’t need a complete review! They’re just piercings!”

Kojirou always takes forever when asked to give his opinion on any topic, be it about his younger brother’s latest baseball game or the best suited color for a piece of garment Kaoru’s mother has decided to wear for an important meeting. It’s utterly unnecessary and a waste of time—Kaoru isn’t asking Kojirou to write an essay about his piercings.

“Just answer the question,” Kaoru says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, if you like your piercings so much, maybe show them off more?” Kojirou sighs. “I don’t know, you have more hair than any human being is supposed to have. It hides the piercings.”

Kaoru snorts. “Complain to my mother about that.”

But Kaoru entertains the idea.

16.

Keeping his hair long is a simple matter of preference. There is no rule in his family stating that its members should have a specific length of hair, so why not? Very few boys and men have it this long, and Kojirou always asks him why he bothers taking care of such a useless physical feature when all it does is getting into his way when he skates. Kaoru admits he does have a point, but he likes his hair.

Kaoru is currently tying it into a ponytail, lazily skating on the sidewalk around their neighborhood. Kojirou is skating at his side eating an entire soda flavored Garigari-kun popsicle, shoving it into his mouth and crunching into the ice because he likes having brain freeze.

“Hey, it’s your birthday next week,” Kojirou announces, like it’s the most thrilling event of the week. “Did you plan something? Wanna go explore some new skating areas?”

Kaoru flips his hair over his shoulder and shrugs. Kojirou is looking at him curiously, almost intently, and that makes Kaoru raise an eyebrow.

“Nothing special, but it’s also on the same day as some renown calligrapher from Tokyo visiting our studio. So yeah.”

“All the way from Tokyo? That sounds important.”

“Maybe. I didn’t really pay attention.”

Simply thinking about all the formal procedures that will take place in his house and the fact he will have to be on his “best behavior, please, Kaoru” is pissing him off. He’s not interested in hearing about the works of this supposedly famous and talented calligrapher bestowing upon their modest family his knowledge and wise advice. Kaoru doesn’t even know why he still attends the calligraphy lessons when he’s pretty sure he’ll go into computer science or something. His parents are always on his case about maintaining his posture and improving his strokes every day, and at some point Kaoru started obeying to make their noisy demands stop. He doesn’t genuinely hate the art itself; he simply thinks that his time is better spent elsewhere. What does calligraphy have when computers can do much more fascinating stuff?

Kojirou is nibbling at the popsicle stick, eyeing him with that critical look he often gets when he considers throwing paper balls at Kaoru in class, or when he thinks that Kaoru needs a snack to calm down, like some fucking animal he’s trying to tame—Kaoru hates that somehow, food always works.

“You want to ditch?” Kojirou asks as neutrally as possible, but Kaoru hears the sympathy in his voice. Which is appreciated, but unnecessary.

“No, I was actually thinking of scandalizing my parents by cutting my hair and having it cropped short,” Kaoru says with a half-feral grin. “Like, strands of hair sticking everywhere and impossible to make it look presentable.”

Kojirou almost stumbles on his skateboard, even though it’s a straight line and he wasn’t even pushing with his feet on the concrete.

“What?! But you never shut up about your hair!”

“You fucking liar, I only ever say I like having it long!”

“Yeah, that still makes it stupid! Why would you cut your hair if you like it long?”

“Because hair grows again?”

“Not as fast as you’d think, if you even thought about it before blurting out you want to get a bowl cut.”

“Disheveled and rowdy haircut, not a bowl cut, you idiot!”

They make a turn at the corner of the street, expertly avoiding a kid walking her dog and dodging the woman carrying groceries behind her, not without getting scolded for skating in residential areas (or skating at all) but those are words that go in one ear and exit in the other. Kaoru smiles to himself and kicks into the ground to get more speed, jumps and flips his board in the air before landing on it again with minimal risk of smashing his face in the concrete. He lifts a fist in the air with a whooping cry.

“Oh hey, that was a good one!” he exclaims, giving Kojirou a radiant grin.

“You mastered this trick long ago, why are you so excited?” Kojirou grumbles.

“Because it felt nice, that’s all. Be happy about the small things in life, that’s what you keep saying.”

“Sometimes I feel you’re purposely throwing back my words at my face only when it’s convenient for you.”

“I always listen to you, even if it might come as a surprise.”

Kaoru laughs, spinning his board and continuing on a straight line, ahead of Kojirou. Today’s weather is pleasant and he can’t wait for the end of the school year at the end of the week to go skating all day. It will come with more calligraphy practice, but at least he will have time for his other hobbies too. And if he can’t focus on anything at home, he can still go to Kojirou’s place and bother him all day.

“Then don’t cut your hair!” Kojirou shouts, catching up to him.

The lines on Kojirou’s face are weird, all upset and a bit worried, and that’s not an expression Kaoru is used to see when they’re talking about haircuts, of all things. Maybe when they’re doing their geography homework or when they’ve spent one hour practicing tricks and got more bruises than actual results, but not hair.

“What’s up with you?” Kaoru asks, slowing down. “It’s just my hair. It’s a good prank.”

“You’re going to look like a bird’s nest for at least three months, you okay with that?” Kojirou retorts.

“That’s not the worst thing in existence. And if I recall, you told me last year I should show off my piercings more, so having short hair would effectively do that.”

Kojirou groans and drags a hand across his face, almost looking defeated.

“Just style it in a way that makes your piercings visible, then,” Kojirou adds. “You… have nice hair.”

Kaoru blinks. Kojirou looks straight ahead, his posture stiff, determined not to turn his head in Kaoru’s direction.

“I have nice hair,” Kaoru repeats.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me to cut my hair because it looks nice?”

“Yes.”

“That might be the most honest compliment you’ve ever said to me.”

“Shut up, I’m never complimenting you ever again!”

Kojirou speeds up, but not before Kaoru catches a glimpse of his reddening ears. The situation is starting to make even less sense, but seeing Kojirou so flustered over nothing is piquing Kaoru’s interest and his lips stretch in a wide grin. Kaoru joins Kojirou in their less-than-recommended skating speed.

“Okay, but you’re being weird!” Kaoru shouts over the sound of their wheels scratching against the ground. “Was that an offer to style my hair?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Kojirou mutters.

“You’re the one who suggested it, you can’t drop the topic!”

It’s almost comical to see two teenagers loudly arguing about a pointless subject while skateboarding and avoiding any obstacles they come across, as if being on a board is the same as walking. Passersby shoot them quizzical looks and a lot of adults are clearly not approving their noise level.

They end up skating all the way to the playground near the elementary school of the neighborhood, where a few kids are playing while their parents are watching over them. There is a skating park farther away, but people are already using it and Kaoru doesn’t like skating with people not part of their crew unless he’s looking for a fight. So they keep skating around, at a lower speed because colliding with children won’t exactly look good on either of them.

“Fine, keep being stubborn, you asshole,” Kaoru grumbles. “I’ll get another piercing.”

Kojirou finally jerks his head towards Kaoru, his expression a lot less constipated and more curious. “On such a short notice?”

“I’ll find a way. And even if I can’t get it done before my birthday, it will still be infuriating for my parents.”

Kaoru taps at his lower lip, not missing the way Kojirou’s eyes follow the movement with rapt attention.

“I wanted to get a lip ring, anyway,” he says.

There is something simply enthralling in a lip ring—the light catches on it, and people are immediately in admiration when they see it. Not everyone has the guts to get one, after all.

Kojirou slowly nods, tearing his gaze away from Kaoru’s face.

“If you want,” he says. “I don’t see any problem with that.”

“You’re so weird today.” Kaoru rolls his eyes.

“You’re the weird one, obsessed with piercings.”

“You just wish you could be as cool as me. Race you to my home!”

“Damn it Kaoru, stop cheating!”

Kaoru ignores Kojirou and launches himself at full speed to make his skateboard pivot and turn around, going back from the way they came. Kojirou is still yelling at him.

Kaoru doesn’t manage to get his lip pierced before his birthday, but he does sweep the left side of his hair behind his head and keep it in place with a hair clamp, leaving his earrings in plain sight. To the calligrapher’s credit, upon seeing who the supposed Sakurayashiki heir is, he makes only the vaguest noise of shock before getting into business. Kaoru smiles all throughout the visit.

17.

Kaoru’s seventeenth birthday remains one of the most special days of his life.

He got gifts, snacks and high-fives from various people whom he cares more or less about (the crew bought a cake but Kaoru only got a thin slice of it because they are greedy bastards), while Kojirou bought him a book on AI that was way too expensive even if he has a part-time job salary (Kaoru wrestled him to the ground when he recognized the book).

Adam takes them skating in a place they’ve never explored before.

It’s beautiful. Exciting, captivating and alluring, making them use all their senses to turn at the right time, to ride down a hill without losing control, and to feel the full path reverberated through their bodies in shock waves. Skateboarding is fun, but this is on another level entirely—it’s like sliding on the edge of a cliff, giving heart palpitations but also an intoxicating feeling of a game that needs to be beaten, whose ending is all worth these efforts.

The three of them are skating as if wings sprouted on their back, uncaring of the world outside of their little bubble of thrills. Kaoru watches in fascination as Adam seems to fly across the track, smooth in his skating and unconcerned with the bumpy road. The wind seems to be an inconsequential factor in his descent in the slope, moving along with it and never straying far from the road. It’s subjugating, it’s beautiful, it’s freedom.

“Watch where you’re skating, idiot!” Kojirou yells right next to him, startling Kaoru out of his reverie.

Kaoru crouches low and makes a sharp turn, avoiding a rock that would have sent him sprawling. He straightens and keeps going at a controlled pace, glaring at Kojirou.

“I know what I’m doing!” he grunts.

“You almost smacked that wall with your face,” Kojirou points out with a glare of his own. “Stop getting distracted.”

“I’m not distracted,” Kaoru snaps back automatically.

But the look Kojirou is giving him is indescribable, so foreign on his face and even more so as it is directed at Kaoru. There is something brewing in the air and Kaoru doesn’t like it, doesn’t want a chasm opening between them because of a stupid argument, but he doesn’t even know what made Kojirou so irritable in the first place.

Adam is waiting for them at the end of the path, watching them arriving at a sullen pace with a raised eyebrow. Kaoru stops right in front of him and plasters a smile on his face, much more eager to talk about they’ve come here for.

“That’s an amazing place! Skating here is so fun, we can make a challenge out of a lot of things in this mountain.”

“Yes, the turns are different and there are many slopes that we need to be careful of,” Adam agrees, smiling. “I truly believe we can accomplish a lot, if we do it together. I want to create a special race here for skaters to push their limits.”

Adam looks at Kaoru, then at Kojirou—the glint of mischief and of confidence reflected in his eyes is the same as the one that pulls everyone in his orbit, making them give their all to become the best. It’s a look that Kaoru feels inextricably drawn to, enamored with the unbridled possibilities he imagines behind words that promise a paradise of freedom grander than anything they’ve ever known.

“You both have skills that will be useful to establish this race,” Adam continues. “People are following you and your skating is among the best. I said before that you guys were special, and I mean it.”

Kaoru does not preen, but the shivers that course through his body as Adam opens his heart are ones that feel pleasant, almost addictive. His grin splits his face in two.

“You can count on us, we’re going to create the best skating race in existence,” Kaoru assures. “Right, Kojirou?”

“Yeah, of course!”

Kojirou’s earnest tone is almost a relief—he’s clearly as excited about this race as them, and Kaoru would have been seriously worried if that wasn’t the case.

For the first time, the joyous expression on Adam’s face seems to be born out of sincerity plucked from the deepest corner of his heart. It suits him; it makes him look even more radiant than usual. Kaoru can’t look away.

“It’s decided, then,” Adam says. “The three of us, inaugurating the “S” race. Together.”

On that day, when Kaoru turned seventeen and his mind was filled with nothing but skateboarding, he thought that this is what belonging felt like.

18.

Sitting perfectly straight, legs tucked under him, Kaoru picks up a brush, dips it into ink he has carefully ground, presses it against the sheet of paper and splashes black trails all over it. The ink drips outside of the frame and stains the tatami floor of the study he hasn’t bothered to protect, littering everything in dark, angry marks that resemble the work of a child throwing a tantrum.

There is no word, no poem written on his paper. Half of the inkstick is grossly used up, its tip almost falling apart, like it wasn’t deemed worthy of being respected as one of the treasures of calligraphy. Kaoru is filling the paper with nothing but emptiness.

It’s not even rage moving his arm like a possessed demon. It would have been easier to deal with, if it was rage; handling it requires minimal effort, as he can mindlessly let his heart wreak havoc upon anything his hands come into contact with, or he can scream all the grievances he’s bottled up to clear the space occupied by unpleasant thoughts. Rage is physical, in and out, and Kaoru’s had years of practice getting rid of it.

But this is not rage that nudges him in the direction of destroying a perfectly good piece of paper with expensive ink and an even more expensive brush, tarnishing their quality and the noble use they are destined to. It’s cold and quiet resignation, trapping him in his own mind as he lets himself be selfish one last time and act out in childish anger.

Kaoru’s eighteenth birthday is spent alone, grieving his dream of ever cutting ties with family traditions. He hasn’t touched a skateboard in months and he hasn’t tinkered with his AI program in even longer. There was no point anyway—Kojirou has other things to focus on, and Adam left.

Kaoru was a fool to think he was strong and resolute enough to follow a path that is not written with the same deep ink as the one he’s used all his life.

20.

“You can legally drink now, congrats.”

“Great. I can sip my alcohol in the presence of guests and pretend I’m enjoying their company when all I want is getting drunk.”

“That’s not very professional, soon-to-be Sakurayashiki-sensei.”

“You’re one to talk, I bet you’re consuming way too many beers at those parties. Has gaining muscle mass made you lose brain cells?”

“Hey, you four-eyes, that was uncalled for!”

There is something moving behind Kojirou, a door opening and someone poking his head inside, and Kojirou turns his head to rattle off a few words in Italian before facing the camera again. Chin resting in his palm, Kaoru is watching with a raised eyebrow Kojirou’s roommate rummage through Kojirou’s dressing, before retreating back into the corridor.

“Does he make a habit to walk around your shared apartment half-naked?” Kaoru asks.

Kojirou laughs, waving his hand. “He was looking for a clean shirt, he forgot to do laundry yesterday. I told him he could borrow one of mine.”

“I’m surprised you still find shirts your size with the way your body’s taking the shape of a gorilla’s.”

“Just admit you’re jealous of my perfect muscles.”

Kojirou makes a show of flexing his bicep and Kaoru snorts.

“Yeah, I’m so jealous of that gorilla body that is unnecessarily big.” Kaoru deadpans.

“Believe it or not, it makes skating a lot more fun too,” Kojirou adds with a smile. “More power in the legs to do tricks.”

Kojirou looks...satisfied with the direction his life is taking. Kaoru is happy for him—studying abroad in culinary school and discovering a whole new culture seems to be the change of pace Kojirou needed. Sometimes Kaoru wishes he could also skate in the places full of pipes and curvy roads that Kojirou shows him, but he has to make do with the familiar tracks he’s skated on all his life.

“I upgraded Carla to calculate distances faster and to automatically record what she sees,” Kaoru says with a hint of smugness.

“Your AI having a girl’s name will never stop being weird,” Kojirou groans. “Why haven’t you chosen something normal like “Ghost Voice” or “Robotico”?”

“An AI is not a robot.” Kaoru pinches the bridge of his nose, already tired of having to repeat this for the umpteenth time. “Your Roomba is a robot. Carla recognizes many more things than the shape of your apartment.”

“Then program Carla to clean my apartment too.”

“Carla isn’t a vacuum cleaner, you dimwit!”

“That’s a big shame, maybe you should also create an AI cooking for you!”

Kaoru opens his mouth to reply something scathing, then snaps it shut. On the screen, Kojirou frowns.

“Don’t,” Kojirou warns.

“We have enough resources and data to program an AI that creates recipes from a list of ingredients,” Kaoru says anyway. “If we implement it into a robot, with the correct code and careful adjustments, then maybe it will be a decent cook.”

“If you start making a cook AI I don’t want to heart about it,” Kojirou mutters.

Kaoru rolls his eyes. “Do you think I have enough hours in a day to focus on another project? Carla already requires my full attention.”

There is no need for him to say that calligraphy practice is what he does most of the day, if he’s not attending courses on speech or on business. It’s his life now; he chose to become the next Sakurayashiki calligrapher and he can’t back down now. Not that he’s ever fully considered leaving calligraphy behind for one of his better, more interesting hobbies—and this was exactly the problem. He never untied his hands from the string tethering him to a brush.

“You always want to work on something, so I’m expecting anything from you when you’re bored,” Kojirou says with a smirk.

“Maybe my next project will make gorillas like you shut up.”

Kaoru is twenty years old, discovering every day new aspects of himself in a professional environment, but one thing that never changes is the comfort of simply existing as himself when he talks to Kojirou.

22.

Kaoru spends a couple of years simmering in feelings he doesn’t acknowledge.

He isn’t someone who takes the time to reflect on his own feelings, negative or positive. They simply happen and he decides on whether to act on them—which has been true since he was a child, throwing tantrums when he didn’t like the task he was asked to do, kicking someone he didn’t agree with as a teenager, and deflecting when answering journalists’ questions that would force him to look deep into his heart. He lives in the moment and tries very hard not to burden himself with useless thoughts and regrets he can’t act upon.

He doesn’t dwell more than necessary on his choice to inherit the family calligraphy studio, because it will lead to nothing productive. He has perhaps harbored ill feelings towards calligraphy in the past, but they’re not so visceral he can’t execute the job he’s been trained for since he could hold a brush. Sometimes he thinks he could have rejected everything he’s been taught and disappoint his family for the rest of his life, but he immediately chases the thought away and decides that suffering through a successful career of calligrapher appears to be a small sacrifice compared to the headaches that would have come with removing himself from the Sakurayashiki studio.

He’s a full grown adult, by society’s standards. He shed his sweaters for yukatas and took off his piercings with reluctance, feeling like he ripped off a part of himself that’s been with him forever to fit into a mold he’s accepted as his new normal. Those were remnants of his old, carefree life that he abandoned, and it’d be preposterous to wish for things to have gone differently.

At least he has his AI—a new spin to a traditional art that is resistant to change. Carla is efficient, impressive and shocks people into admiration; Kaoru has upgraded and improved the code as many times as it required, making her compatible with every device in his possession so that she could accompany him in all his tasks. Skating became a game of precision, detail and finesse, aiming for perfection beyond what the average mind would think of. Calligraphy is enhanced and magnified, the digital aspect adding beauty in an art that is almost exclusively done by hand. Incorporating technology in his otherwise boring job undoubtedly made his days easier and more fun.

Kaoru isn’t dissatisfied. He can do better, but he could have done worse. However, if there is one thing that makes him antsy it’s the realization that he’s seeing less of Kojirou with each passing day, and he would have never thought it would leave a growing ache in his chest every time he thinks about it.

They have their own lives to live. It’s part of growing up—and he hasn’t completely lost his best friend yet.

25.

They have been wandering the streets of Paris for exactly ten minutes and Kaoru is already starting to regret his decision.

“It’s not that hard to read a map,” he seethes, trying to grab Kojirou’s phone.

Kojirou lifts the device higher and turns his back on Kaoru, stubbornly keeping his eyes riveted on the screen.

“I’ve got this, stop distracting me,” Kojirou says.

“The metro station is right there, let’s just change itinerary, stupid gorilla!”

“You want to take the metro when we could explore the city on foot?”

“The probability of getting shitted on by pigeons is way too high for my liking.”

This gets an undignified snort from Kojirou, more amused than mocking though Kaoru knows not to assume when every one of his words can be thrown back at his face later on.

They do end up taking the metro. They can go anywhere in Paris by bus or metro, making it extremely convenient to find their way but it gets overwhelming really fast—the metro lines seem to be full of people at all hours of the day, according to Kaoru’s extensive research before their trip, and they are nothing like the monorail they have back in Okinawa. Most passengers are focused on their phones, while others are taking a quick nap, which is not that different from what they’re used to.

“It can’t be worse than the Tokyo rail lines,” Kaoru mutters as they’re being shaken by the train doing a particularly sharp and violent turn.

“You’ve never been to Tokyo,” Kojirou replies with a raised eyebrow.

“I did last year for a meeting.”

“And that single trip was enough for you to get the full experience of the infamous rush of Tokyo’s Yamanote line?”

“I wasn’t saying I used the Yamanote line, imbecile. All trains are crowded. I think you wouldn’t have been able to squeeze in with your gorilla body.”

“At least I’m not at risk of going blind when someone knocks off my glasses by pushing me around in a crowd!”

“I always carry a second pair of glasses with me to avoid this kind of incident!”

It’s probably a good thing that this line of metro makes the same level of noise as a tractor revved up at full power, because their arguing is by no means quiet and people are starting to stare at them. But as soon as Kaoru glances at them, they avert their eyes and pretend they weren’t gawking. Typical.

March weather is terrible. Their trip lasts one week, and there is an equal number of sunny days and of cloudy days, with high probability of rain. It shouldn’t be normal to have a changing weather so unpredictable that it makes planning for their day a real pain in the ass. Kojirou is already complaining about the sun beginning to leave space for clouds at merely eleven in the morning, and Kaoru silently agrees with the sentiment.

The food is good, at least.

“Reminds me a bit of what restaurants looked like in Italy,” Kojirou says around a mouthful of beef. “Maybe I can draw inspiration from those recipes.”

“It’s not Italian cuisine,” Kaoru points out. “Unless you intend to make a mixed menu.”

“Of course not, but the flavors can be useful.”

Kojirou is examining his piece of vegetable like a scientist observing an experiment under a microscope, as if it could give him the secrets of its cooking time or the spices used for it. Kaoru lightly kicks him under the table, and Kojirou hisses.

“Stop being weird and eat your food.”

“Do you really have to hit me every time you want to make a point?”

“I’m not hitting that hard.”

The other way around is more likely to happen; Kaoru won’t ever admit it but he doubts that Kojirou feels more pain than Kaoru does when he hits him. Those muscles are ridiculous and entirely unnecessary, honestly.

They take pictures at the landmarks and get mad at the long lines and narrow their eyes at the price of various food and drinks they stumble upon. They’re not short on money, but drinking a cup of café au lait at twice the price of what they can find in regular coffee shops doesn’t leave a good taste in their mouth. Kojirou uses the knowledge from his time in Italy to make educated guesses on whether they’re paying something at an unreasonable price or not—he looks a bit too smug doing so but Kaoru lets it slide for once and allows him to play the role of the brain for this specific aspect of their trip. Kaoru can at least trust Kojirou’s judgment when money is concerned (even if his intuition can be skewed sometimes).

“It’s only because it’s your birthday trip that I’m putting up with your need to visit museums,” Kojirou says, waving at the multiple pamphlets they gathered after three days of sightseeing.

“Having some culture ingrained in your mind is nothing but beneficial for you,” Kaoru retorts evenly.

Kojirou rolls his eyes, clearly not interested in that conversation, and gets up from his bed of their hotel room. It’s past midnight but they’re still wide awake. Sharing one room would be awkward or embarrassing for a lot of people, but Kaoru has known Kojirou half his life and it would be ridiculous to feel self-conscious now, when they’ve seen each other in various states of undress and wakefulness. Perhaps the only complaint Kaoru will voice that he didn’t have when he was thirteen is that the older Kojirou gets, the louder his snoring is (as if the noise level grows with the wideness of his body).

“Hey, Kaoru.”

Kaoru looks up from tomorrow’s schedule displayed on his phone to come face to face with a giant box of pastries and Kojirou’s bright grin. Kojirou is holding the box one-handed, slightly bent forward, like he would a tray to present his dish to his most loyal customers.

“Happy birthday, four-eyes,” Kojirou says on a light tone.

“Must you call me names when you’re wishing me happy birthday?” Kaoru scoffs, but he eyes the pastries with unconcealed interest.

They went to a bakery in the afternoon for a snack, buying a croissant, a pain au chocolat and a pain aux raisins because they apparently lack self control when it comes to cheap baked goods—but for some reason Kaoru missed the moment Kojirou acquired this box of pastries.

“It’s past midnight,” Kaoru reminds him.

Kojirou shrugs. “We’re grown adults and on holiday, I don’t think it’s much of a problem.”

“There are six different pastries in this box.”

“Nobody’s saying we should eat all of them right now, moron. Save some of them for tomorrow.”

They end up eating three pasties, one half each, while arguing about the pros and cons of buying smaller portions of different sweets over getting an entire cake for a birthday, as well as the point of starting celebrating said birthday at midnight instead of simply waiting for morning. They’ve had these conversations before, at Kaoru’s or Kojirou’s birthday over the years, but it seems they never grow sick of repeating the same arguments even when the topic is stupid.

It’s like a well-oiled machine; pushing on one button always leads to the same result. Kaoru and Kojirou argue because this is what they’re used to do, a response at their lips even before they hear the end of the other’s sentence. What comes out of their mouths takes the shape of banter but Kaoru, even though he usually ignores it, notices how at ease he is in these moments.

Kojirou invited him for this trip even if he didn’t have to, and bought pastries to share at midnight like they’re holding a small party. His face is illuminated by his generosity and his big heart that finds a way to carve itself in his eyes.

“Let’s go skating tomorrow afternoon, it will be fun,” Kojirou suggests, mischief and plain desire to have fun glimmering in his gaze.

And Kaoru can’t say no.

They brought their boards, like they did when they traveled to Los Angeles. It might sound like a waste of space in their luggage, but nobody has a say in what they consider fun. Kaoru had to change Carla’s battery for her to fall under airport regulation, which was a hassle on short notice (Kojirou dropped a plane ticket on Kaoru’s lap a week before departure, and Kaoru shoved back money at him but it somehow ended back in his hands after a few minutes of jostling) but definitely worth it, because there’s no way he will skate with a lower quality board.

On March 27th, when Kaoru turns twenty-five years old, he almost resorts to a more physical solution to win petty squabbles against skaters in another country, a behavior he was prone to display when he was seventeen. But he’s an adult who is traveling for leisure and isn’t foolish enough to ruin the trip by punching someone when he can skate away and show off with a few tricks involving exact calculations and perfect angles, so this is what he does—after Kojirou, admittedly, forced him to remain calm, as though he was his impulse control when Kojirou is just as quick to rise to a challenge.

Maybe the difference is that Kojirou isn’t a cocky bastard like Kaoru is. Debatable, but Kaoru won’t deny that he loves the feeling of achieving something flashy or impressive. Getting into trouble for it is always worth it, especially if Kojirou is there to live it with him. It’s never the same without Kojirou—they might bicker and have more arguments then actual conversations, but Kojirou’s a warm presence enveloping him in a tight hug he can never quite shake off.

The trip to Paris isn’t half-bad, and it’s full of memories with the person he trusts the most.

26.

Kojirou is very, very still when Kaoru finally stops fighting with himself and leans his head on his shoulder, completely wasted after drinking too much wine at this event gathering too many important people to talk to and drink with. The taxi is silent and all he can hear is the screech of the wheels on the asphalt.

“Rest until we reach your home,” Kojirou says, something akin to laughter in his voice.

“Hm.”

Kaoru registers the words coming out of Kojirou’s mouth, and judges them acceptable before closing his eyes and letting himself be rocked by the car drive. In his drunken haze, when he called Kojirou to be picked up, he forgot Kojirou lent his car to his little brother; remembering such an essential detail would have saved them a lot of trouble, but Kojirou called a taxi and is now sitting with Kaoru in the backseat instead of going back to his own home. What an idiot.

Kojirou helps him into his apartment, grumbling as his elbows hit the walls and his feet get caught in stray shoes in the genkan that Kaoru eventually wanted to sort out and put away. They manage to get to the couch, and Kaoru collapses on it without grace and lets out a long groan, draping an arm over his eyes.

“I’m not drinking at this sort of event again,” he complains.

“That’s your fault for not limiting yourself,” Kojirou sounds unimpressed. “You always say you’ll stop drinking but you keep doing it.”

“Half a glass with each guest is customary. Beyond that is called showing off.”

“So you’re showing off, stupid four-eyes.”

“Shut up, gorilla. I have something to prove.”

Kojirou’s sigh is filled with such apparent exasperation that Kaoru immediately realizes how petty and ridiculous he just sounded.

“On the day of your birthday, to top it all,” Kojirou says. “Do you need babysitting?”

“You are not going to babysit me,” Kaoru snaps. “I’ll just go to sleep.”

“Yeah, and you’ll start bitching tomorrow morning because you forgot to drink water and take a shower.”

“I’m not that incompetent, you giant brainless idiot.”

Kojirou doesn’t deign responding to his insult and slides behind the kitchen counter. Kaoru drops his arm and watches him rummaging through the cabinets with too much confidence for someone who doesn’t live there. Kojirou comes back with a glass of water and two slices of bread that Kaoru usually eats in the morning when he’s too lazy to make breakfast.

“You probably didn’t eat much, since your robophile brain was wired on ingesting wine.”

“I just said I don’t need your help,” Kaoru mutters.

Kojirou ignores him and deposits the items on the coffee table. He then sits down next to Kaoru, causing Kaoru to shift further on his side of the couch because of his needlessly big body.

“Do you have to sit so close to me?” Kaoru grumbles, leaning forward to snatch the water and the bread, pretending that his world didn’t start spinning as he did so. He takes a few sips of the water.

“Your couch isn’t large enough.”

“It’s your body that’s not average size, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You’re suspiciously coherent for someone who says he’s drunk.”

Kaoru shrugs, foregoing manners as he speaks and munches on the bread at the same time. “My mind is clear, my thoughts aren’t confused in the least.”

“Right. What time is it?”

Kaoru looks at the time displayed on his TV box, sitting on the stand pushed against the opposite wall of where they’re sitting. He squints at the numbers, slightly blurry despite his glasses still resting on his nose. He has no idea what time it is.

“Eleven forty-seven,” Kaoru announces.

“No, it’s twelve forty-seven,” Kojirou snickers. “Finish that, take a shower and go to bed.”

“And you’re going to stay here and take up space in my apartment?”

“Well, if your event hadn’t run for so long, I would have spent some time with you anyway since it’s your birthday. So I might as well stay until you fall asleep.”

Several things get jumbled in his head at that moment, and Kaoru stares at Kojirou in disbelief. There’s something funny and warm happening in the pit of his stomach.

“You have nothing else to do,” Kaoru asks, or accuses—he doesn’t know how his voice comes across.

“Just go to sleep, Kaoru.”

Kojirou takes the empty glass from Kaoru’s hands and puts it on the table. He then tugs Kaoru upright, holding his wrists in a gentle and careful grip, as if Kaoru will break if he’s not handled in the most delicate manner. Half of the second slice of bread is lying abandoned in the plate, but Kaoru doesn’t particularly mind as he realizes, with strange clarity, that this isn’t unpleasant to be taken care of like this. Kojirou is smiling at him with his most genuine expression, and Kaoru has to look down to avoid his gaze, embarrassed and fulfilled and relieved all at once.

28.

It’s been a long time coming, Kaoru thinks as his fingers tangle in Kojirou’s hair and he brings him closer, always closer to him. The night is warm and too uncomfortable for a spring day, but the heat twisting his stomach is from something entirely separate. His lips meet Kojirou’s endlessly, like this act alone will make him absorb whatever Kojirou is willing to give to him for safekeeping. It’s the first time they’re kissing and yet it feels like they should have been doing this for years now, hiding under the shade of a tree or behind a rocky wall to share a private moment together, in a pocket of time that will burst only when they decide to drop all pretenses.

He knows it’s been a long time coming, because Kojirou is laughing against his lips, and when Kaoru cracks an eye open he sees how open and fond Kojirou’s face is. Kaoru immediately wants to close his eyes again and to stop noticing how luminous everything has become.

“We’re so dumb,” Kojirou says.

“You are stupid, for holding back all those years,” Kaoru retorts.

“Yeah, now it’s my fault for being considerate of your feelings towards me.”

“If you believed for one instant that I’d cut ties with you, then you’re more foolish than I thought you were.”

Kojirou still has hi arms wound around Kaoru’s back, and when he shrugs he presses Kaoru closer to himself. There is no anger and no regret in his eyes or his posture, as though nothing in the world would strip him of the bliss he’s currently being filled with. Kaoru finds himself drunk on the sight.

“I didn’t think that, no. I was just too scared of doing anything that will cause a shift in our relationship.”

The words sound strange, once Kaoru hears them spoken out loud. Kojirou is the one constant in his life that never changed, a shadow at his back and a light guiding him. They’ve both seen each other at their worst and their best, tending to bruises and squeezing a shoulder in comfort or riling each other up as part of their routine. Kojirou is an entity that exists at Karou’s side, full of familiarity and overflowing with kindness that doesn’t need to be voiced.

Kojirou is stupid for ever having hesitated or doubted the strength of their bond. But Kaoru is stupid, too, for simply taking what Kojirou was offering without ever giving back properly.

“We’re never having this conversation again,” Kaoru warns, tugging at Kojirou’s hair and pressing his forehead against his. “I trust you, Kojirou. I always have. This isn’t going to change.”

Kojirou is clinging to every one of his words, looking at Kaoru with the most enraptured expression he’s ever shown. Like this is a dream that cannot be real. Kaoru scowls.

“Don’t look so surprised, gorilla. That’s not a secret.”

“I’m not surprised, I’m simply enjoying that you’re saying it at all,” Kojirou laughs.

“You never say anything pleasant about me either.”

“You’re the one who barges into my restaurant and half the time demand dishes that aren’t even on the menu, and I still cook them! I’m being nice enough!”

“What else would you do in a restaurant, muscles for brain ape?”

“I don’t know, cook a dish I have the actual ingredients for?”

Kaoru’s lips are pulled upward despite everything, his heart as light as ever in Kojirou’s presence. The ease surrounding them remains the same, electric veil sealing them in their own brand of intimacy they wouldn’t trade for anything else.

It feels effortless, then, to switch to a less barbed attitude but still retaining playfulness. Kaoru brushes strands of hair out of Kojirou’s face, and Kojirou runs a thumb under Kaoru’s eye.

“It’s my birthday at the end of the week,” Kaoru whispers, locking eyes with Kojirou. “Take me somewhere nice.”

“Bossy as ever,” Kojirou sighs, though his voice sounds like contentment and bliss contained in a space called home.

Kaoru smiles.

[mythvoiced]

@jeoseungsaja​ | "I already made my decision, you're not going to change that." (Saja and Yihwa? 👀) 400 RANDOM DIALOGUE PROMPTS

---

She doesn’t even realise the irony of her situation: how much easier it is to chase after him now that she’s in this state. 

When he wears his hat, no one can see him. And she? She’s invisible to the eyes of all being safe those like him, those dirty fucking bastards with their cold greasy fingers and that rotten core of theirs, the disgusting filth between bones and soul that makes them who they are, fucking sinners, the lot of them.

The both of them.

The irony lies in how it is the situation she is fighting against that facilitates her fighting at all.

She’s never held particular interest towards the opinion of humans, of civilisations, if everybody around her dropped dead at the first glance taken in her direction, more power to her, right? But this, this is a whole new level of freedom, that elicits shrill shrieks of displeasure and low hissed growls of hatred every time she walks face first into it, the way no one can see her and no one can hear her and she fades through every body that blocks her path, as she slams her soles down the cement of the pavement she’s chasing the grim reaper down on.

He walks as if this is the usual for him, who is he, to be this comfortable in his existence, in the way the world works and reacts around him, him and his stupid fucking hat and the way he seems to bury his hands in his armpits at the first sign of approaching life, someone like that is supposed to be the end of her? 

Something like that? That fucking guy?

Someone walks out of a restaurant and right through her.

She’d almost made it to him, all through her stumbling, and his knowing this city better than she’d ever bothered to get to know it. Her world is Taebaeksan, why would she care for the streets of Seoul, huh? So what if she’d gotten lost more times than she cared to count, she won’t memorise these goddamn roads if he forced her to, he could drag her face across the traffic shields and she’d just turn around and spit directly into his face.

But this, this shoves her back, she stumbles even though neither she nor the stranger that had walked right through her can feel the motion as it takes place, they just move on into their perfect life, whatever the fuck that may entail, and she just continues to walk on this side of existence, bare-foot and looking like the corpse she’d left behind.

Who was it?

Who’d killed her?

She hadn’t looked.

In-ha? Came back to finish the job? Fucking bitch. That detective kid? Who? Who the fuck would that be?

She’s stood still for too long, someone else just crosses right through her, smiling, laughing into whatever phone call they’re having, stupid and meaningless and an absolute waste of air.

She screams, straight into the air, blood-curling, and enraged, frustrated and beyond what the best paid therapist could recover, there is nothing to be found in a breakdown like this, unless an actual trained professional steps up. But would there be, to try and get through to the madness clouding the mind of a woman who kills and steals souls to augment her own life energy, who sucks humans dry of their essence and then swallows it whole as if she’d been a nine-tailed fox in a past life?

She whips around, she can still see him, he’s not that far, she can rush, she can walk right through all of these people, and their useless fleeting lives, she runs through them, barricades knowing she won’t meet any resistance and doesn’t stop next to him, no, she whips around him, slams herself into his chest, shoves as strongly as she can, but how strong can she even hope to?

In this state, all that’s left in her is… her.

And that kid.

And his special little drop of soul within her.

It had been an unparalleled success: all the souls of the deceased she’d hold within her, they’d run out one day, energy is energy, and if it isn’t held within a container that regenerates it, it runs out. So it fades away and leaves her depleted once more.

But his soul, oh no, it’s still attached. And the charger continues to charge.

“What do you want, huh?” She can do this all day, she’s thought this before. Can he see it? Can he see her? Does he know what she’s willing to do? Her hands clamp down on his forearms, a dead death-grip, leverage to pull herself closer.

“I’ll give you anything you want, anything. There must be something you want, right? You’re not human anymore but you basically all act like you are, anyway. I’ve seen the way grim reapers live like humans and you almost smell like them too,” she doesn’t realise it, no, the irony of being able to stand here without a shiver running down her bare arms, without the cold seeping in through her non-existent skin, through soles and whatever would peek out under the excessive movements of her lacking body.

“You reek of human desires, so what do you desire? I’ll give you anything, I’ll give you my body if you want. I’ll give you someone else’s body, do you want someone dead? Or, or do you want someone to live? I can trick the Gods for you if you want, anything,” she leans in, whispers as closely into his face as she can go without going cross-eyed, because she needs to see his face, needs to see his eyes, the smallest hesitation, the smallest hint of a weakness, the tiniest possibilities of her finding the right button to press.

“Do you want to… remember who you are?” She breathes it into the space between them, focused on his eyes as if she’s trying to read the formula that put them together, see the sin within them.

“I know you can’t. I’ve overheard you reapers talk, I know how you work, what you are. I can help you. I can figure it out for you, I am very resourceful. What do you say? Huh? Wouldn’t you like to know why you’re the way that you are? What you did wrong?”

[ihearthes]

Farmers’ Market

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x y/n Rating: Fluff Word Count: 2.8k

Summer Feeling Challenge sponsored by @helladirections

Vibrant yellows, pinks, greens, and red catch my eye as I take in the variety of fruits and veg in front of me. Wow. How is it possible to have this much beautiful fresh produce in one spot? Placing the essential ingredients for my favorite salad in a basket, I approach the counter. Having ridden a bicycle to the market, I’m fairly confident it will all fit in my knapsack for the return to my flat. 

Hearing his voice causes my entire body to freeze. Well, not completely because my heart is like a wild animal trying to break free from captivity. Regular beats, steady, but louder than my friend Steph had been at his concert in Philly. 

“Hi, I’m looking for some kale, and you don’t seem to have any,” His voice is as deep as the grooves in one of the gravel roads back home in Springfield, and the shiver that travels up my spine is a violent and silent storm. 

Shit. Had I taken the last of the kale? Maybe I can surreptitiously put it back so he doesn’t notice? Wait just a doggone minute! Why the fuck should I give up my kale? Just because he’s my favorite musician in the whole world and he’s somehow standing at the very same green-grocer’s as I am? That makes zero sense. 

A statue, I debate my options. 

Buy my produce and leave before he notices me. But then he might realize that I’ve taken the last of the kale. 

Put the kale back and choose spinach instead? My strawberry salad will taste lovely with spinach. But it truly is best with kale. 

Wait until he leaves and hope he doesn’t spy the kale in my basket? Suddenly, I’ve got the urge to pee. What if he’s here for a long time? 

Put on my sexy voice and offer to share my kale salad with him? This option causes me to smirk while my tummy resembles a popcorn popper with kernels scattering in every direction. Stepping to the counter, I quickly throw my items at the woman while he’s engaged in conversation with a different clerk. 

“That’ll be £14.35,” the woman says, and I withdraw a £20 note, quickly passing it to her, holding my breath that I can escape before he approaches. Not daring to look backwards, I squeeze my change in my fist as I rush to fit in with the crowd strolling the Parliament Hill Farmers’ Market. It’s not until I’m at the end of the stalls and near my chained bicycle that I slow down, breathe, and risk a glance behind me. 

“What did you think? He was going to chase you down and tackle you for the kale?” Steph screams at me through the phone. Naturally she had been my first call as soon as I arrived back at the flat my company had rented for the duration of this London business trip. 

“I didn’t know, Steph! It’s like sixty degrees out there, and I’m sweating like I’ve just run a marathon in ninety-degree heat.” Removing the items from my knapsack, I wash them, laying them out to dry on a towel. Using my fingers, I pull my shirt away from my chest and shake it to allow air to flow better. 

“You’re the only person I know who can meet Harry fucking Styles on her first trip to the farmers’ market! And you’re deffo the only one who would turn and run away! How did he look? What was he wearing?” Her words are BB pellets like my brothers used to shoot at cans back home. 

My words are quiet and stutter as they emerge like a new butterfly from a cocoon. “I didn’t look.”

“WAIT JUST ONE GODDAMNED MINUTE! What do you mean? How could you not look?” Her volume has increased to the level that I might need to remove my Airpods so as to not damage my ears. Then her voice lowers. “What if it wasn’t him?”

Shit. I hadn’t considered that. “No. It was definitely him. Come on. How many times have I listened to his voice?”

“Maybe it was just the British accent.”

“Steph, I’m in London. Everyone has a British accent. I’m telling you. It was him.”

My best friend sighs. “Okay. I believe you. The fact that he was right there, though, and you didn’t say or do anything…” 

“I got the hell out of there. What do you mean I didn’t do anything?”

“Maybe you’ll see him next week. Will you talk to him?”

A soft smile crosses my lips. “Nope. Come on, Steph. You and I have always had a pact that we wouldn’t bother him if we saw him in the wild, and I’m sticking with that.”

----------

“My boss and his wife are coming by tonight, so I want to put together a fruit and cheese plate.” I tell the vendor at Bath Soft Cheese. “Can you give me some suggestions?”

“Oh. I can!” A voice next to me says, and I’m a rigid piece of lumber. What are the fucking odds? Shit. 

“Thanks, Harry,” the gentleman at the table says. “I’m going to help this couple.” With that, I’m left alone. 

Carefully, I swivel my neck to make sure I’ve not lost my mind -- or the plot as my colleagues might say. But no. It’s him. Definitely him. 

I drink him in. Wearing a hoodie with his own name over the heart and a pair of shorts that are more for walking than jogging, Harry (fucking Styles!) points towards one of the cheeses sitting on the bed of ice. 

“This one is a vegetarian cheese, and it’s my sister’s favorite. Best paired with thin apple slices because they make the cheese with apple cider. So delicious.” He glances at me, and I feel faint from the deep green of his eyes. Fuck. Up close and in person, they’re brilliant. They shine (Shine! Step into the light! Shine! So bright sometimes!), and I have to blink so that I can nod. 

“Awesome. Thanks,” I move to take the cheese. 

“Oh, but this one,” he points to the next one over, “is their Bath Soft, and it’s best served with grapes.” Harry Styles, explaining cheeses like he’s an expert cheesemonger, makes me smile. “Personally, I wouldn’t serve a blue cheese to guests unless you know they like it. So many people take offense to blue cheese.”

“Right? I love blue cheese. Especially in a salad. It’s got that bite to it,” I blurt out, and then clamp my mouth shut as I realize I’ve started to relax in his presence. Which is downright stupid as I might inadvertantly disclose something incriminating. Like how many of his concerts I’ve witnessed live.

“Yes! I’ve got this great kale salad recipe with blue cheese and walnuts!” His excitement is the same as that of a puppy spotting a treat; tail practically wagging the whole backside. 

From deep in my belly I feel the giggle build up, and I fasten both hands solidly over my mouth in a pathetic (and useless) attempt to contain it. 

His joy is contagious, though, and I can’t help myself. “Does it have a balsamic vinegarette? Because I have one that’s so good I can eat it every night for a week. Oh. Never mind. That’s the recipe I have with candied pecans. Not walnuts.”

Holy shit. I’m actually standing in a farmers’ market in London discussing recipes with Harry Styles. Perhaps I’m going to pass out? Or maybe I’m hallucinating? Or dreaming? 

“Candied pecans? Sounds yummy. There’s my friend. Gotta go! You can’t go wrong with those two cheeses I mentioned! And maybe treat yourself to some blue cheese too. Just for you.” He winks with his right eye and flashes the dimple my way before he disappears.

----------

My third week in London, and I climb onto my bicycle a full two hours before the usual time I had traveled to the farmers’ market the last two weeks. My license plate should read “Determined to Dodge” because it’s freaking me out a bit that I’ve seen Harry twice in the same place. And they say lightning doesn’t strike twice. Ha! I’m making sure it doesn’t strike thrice. 

“I’ll take the plain goat’s cheese,” I instruct the vendor, and after money is exchanged, she hands it to me and I move to place it directly into my backpack. After nearly a month, I’ve got the hang of this farmers’ market shopping, it seems, and I’m pleased to have arrived with a set shopping list for the first time. 

“Yum.” Harry’s voice comes over my shoulder, and I’m startled enough to nearly drop the damn cheese. HOW IS HE HERE? “What’s your plan for that?”

“Um,” I bite my lip. “Goat cheese, honey, and fruit crostini.” Feeling emboldened, my lips continue speaking as though this superstar and I are friends, “I’ve been debating the two beekeepers, but I don’t know which has the better honey.”

Today he’s wearing a pair of blue jeans that fit wide on his hips along with a peach button-down shirt and a newsboy cap. “Oh, then I think we should definitely go have a taste at each. My lady?” He holds out his crooked arm, ready for me to take it like we’re in a 1940’s movie. 

What’s even crazier is that I follow his lead and add, “Lead the way, sir.” It’s ridiculously silly. And so much fun. His playful side makes me feel charmed, less like a fan and more like an acquaintance. At the first beekeeper, we each taste the regular blossom honey. 

“Oh, that’s fantastic,” I whisper as I slide the wooden stick across my tongue. 

“Hey, you can’t give in yet. We’ve not tried the other one. We’ll be back,” he says over his shoulder to the vendor as he escorts me away. “Maybe,” he adds once we’re out of hearing, drawing a giggle from me. 

Holy shit. I’m relaxed around Harry Styles. What is happening to me? Boundaries! I need boundaries. 

“Oh, my!” I breathe as we arrive at the Local Honey Man’s booth. “There’s too many options.”

Knowingly, Harry nods. “Indeed there are. So maybe we need to back up. You’re doing plain goat cheese on what kind of crostini?”

“You mean what bread am I using? Oh, I was thinking either a thinly sliced sourdough or a baguette.”

“Mmmm...excellent choice. I can recommend some bread next. What fruit are you planning to use?”

His question makes me laugh involuntarily. The great performer and entertainer Harry Styles is asking me what fruit I want on my crostini? Why?

“Well, I’m thinking it’s that time of year for peaches or nectarines. Either of which would be amazing.” Placing a finger to my chin, I survey him. Fuck. He looks so wonderful. Fresh. Friendly. Not at all like a celebrity. Just a normal Joe -- or Harry -- that one might meet at a farmers’ market on a Saturday morning. As I observe him, I feel myself starting to shed some of the barriers between us. He’s just like me, I think. A food connoisseur. Someone who enjoys the local atmosphere. 

“Oh yes,” he pauses, smacking his lips. “I can taste that now. Okay, so with that combination, I would recommend either the lemon zest infused honey or the British Borage Honey. Personally, I think the cinnamon honey might overpower the flavor of the goat cheese.”

“You know what? I think you’re right. My goal is for all of the local flavors to come through, so perhaps going with a non-flavored honey is the best decision. Thanks, Harry.” And then I freeze again because I know I’ve let my tongue get away with a horrible slip by saying his name. Wanting to cry, I bite my lip and turn to the vendor. With tears in my throat, I ask, “I’ll take a jar of the British Borage please.” 

The merchant wraps it quickly, handing it over in exchange for my money, and I nervously twist towards Harry, expecting his glare over my rudeness. It’s almost like he’s oblivious. As I place the jar of honey in my bag, he grabs my hand. 

“Let’s check out breads!” 

Running behind him, I’m puzzled by what had just occurred. Shouldn’t he be upset? Freaking out? Wondering if I’m a stalker?

“Here’s my recommendation,” he says as we stop at a stall with a sign reading ‘The Flour Station’. They’ve got a wonderfully tangy sourdough baguette. If you slice it thin, then layer on the goat cheese, honey, and finally the peaches, it will be a perfect meal.”

When I request the baguette, the owner nods and wraps it for me. As he hands it over, I turn to Harry and extend my hand. “Thank you for your help, kind sir. I’m confident this will be the most amazing meal.”

Staring at my hand suspiciously, he ignores it. “Nearly lunchtime,” he announces. “Any chance you’ll join me for some Indian food?” With his head, Harry gestures towards the Mumbai Mix stand. 

As I consider the implications, my head starts to move from side to side. Never meet your idols. That’s what the voice in my head whispers. 

“Please?” His eyes take on a look that is as close to begging as I’ve ever seen in any human. “Look. I’ll be honest. These days I don’t meet many fans who would go out of their way to avoid me like you do. Most want to move into my house immediately. It would be nice to extend our time a bit. After all, it’s just a meal in the middle of a crowded London farmers’ market. How scary can it be?”

Blinking, I carefully think about my response, but instead the words that escape are “You knew I was a fan? For how long? And how did you know I was avoiding you?”

“Fair questions. Place your order, and we can talk about the answers over lunch.”

Now my curiosity has been peaked. At the vendor, Harry requests the Dosa Wrap while I order the samosas, and we step to the side while they’re being prepared. 

“That first time.”

“Last week you mean?”

“No, the first time. You remember. At the green-grocer’s.”

My face likely flames red. “You saw me? You noticed me? I didn’t even so much as look at you.”

His hearty laugh makes me tingle. “Noticed you? Of course. You’re gorgeous and golden and stunning. And your American accent grabbed my attention. Why did you run?”

The giggle starts at my toes and bursts forth like a bird flying from a cage. “Um...because I’d taken the last of the kale.”

Resting his hands on his knees, Harry chuckles loudly, drawing the attention of other patrons. As the restauranteur hands over our plates, Harry carries both to a nearby table. 

“And last time? You jumped a mile when I suggested helping you with the cheeses.”

Burying my face in my hands, I groan. “Harrrrrrrryyyyy. Before I came to London for work, I made a promise to my best friend that if I saw you in the wild, I’d leave you alone. So it was quite awkward that you were the one who approached me. And holy hell! How did you know I would be here today at this time? I came early so I could shop before you arrived!”

He picks up his wrap and takes a bite, chewing carefully. Taking guidance from him, I gingerly grasp a samosa and tear into the dough, immediately savoring the potatoes and spices inside. 

“Mmmmm,” I murmur, and my tongue flicks out to rescue a bit of flavor still on my lips. 

“‘In the wild’?” he inquires, and I’m confident the blush now covers my entire body. 

“You know. Like if I saw you at a show or a public event, it would be different. Then I could fangirl and ask for an autograph or a photo or whatever. But at the market, you’re not working. You’re just like everyone else -- shopping.” 

Knowingly, he nods. “I appreciate that. Truly. Not everyone respects my private time. So thank you. But the truth is…” There’s a pause, and I nervously nibble at the samosa in my hand, worried about what he will say next. “...once I noticed you, I couldn’t ignore you.” Clearing his throat, he smiles in a friendly manner. “How did your boss enjoy the cheese and fruit plate?”

“Wonderfully,” I respond, “But not as much as I enjoyed my kale salad with blue cheese, blueberries, strawberries, and candied pecans.” A smile tilts my lips upwards, possibly exposing my own dimple. 

“I’m sure,” he murmurs, “I’d love to taste it sometime. Care to make it for me?”

“Hmmm,” I playfully consider his request. “Are you confident you’d prefer that to goat cheese, honey, and fruit crostini on sourdough baguette? It’s all local.”

A/N:  Thanks for reading. Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this. 

[onechicago-upsteadrhekker]

Oh my gosh, you guys! First of all, I am so sorry @cpdfan231 that it has taken me so freakin’ long to finish your request (I’m still working on the other one) but I finally finished it and I hope that you enjoy it and that it was worth the wait! 

Also, I’m hesitant to say this because I’m terrible at actually posting/finishing fanfics when I say that I’m going to but apparently I can’t learn but I’m hoping that I will be able to post a prompt fic every Wednesday until the show starts...and possibly after that too. And for those of you asking about Dancing in the Minefields I’m gonna do everything I can in my power to finish it relatively soon!

Thank you all so much for the continued support and please enjoy!

@cpdfan231 requested #26 “can you two please get a room?”

you’re already mine

Hailey rolled her eyes, her arms tightly crossed under her breasts, “You know the drill. You either work for me or I file the those possession charges,” She narrowed her eyes, glaring harder to let Tyler know she meant business.

He fidgeted, scowling. Hailey shifted, her patience running thin, “So what’s it gonna be? You got ten seconds to let me know.”

Tyler threw his hands up, “Alright, alright.”

Hailey relaxed marginally, watching as her CI paced around his run-down house in aggravation before he stopped and looked at her in disdain, “I help you and I’m done, alright? You’ve had cops pounding on my door for the past six months and I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me so I’m done working for the police.”

She pressed her lips together, silently sizing him up. Tyler’s been one of the most ornery, hard-headed CI’s she’s ever had and he’d been a pain in her ass ever since she’d popped him with coke back in the summer. 

And truthfully, he had worked off the drug charge a couple months back but it had been like pulling teeth to get any information out of him and while the information had been useful, she wasn’t about to let him get off easily with that kind of attitude so she hadn’t said anything. 

Besides, as much as she’d fought with him, he did provide good info; Tyler was seemingly plugged in everywhere so she’d decided to keep him working for a little while longer but now she was more than ready to let him off the hook. She was way too tired of dealing with him.

“Okay,” She gave a short nod, “This one more thing but you gotta cooperate and you gotta give me everything.” Hailey leveled him with another glare to show him how serious she was, “This isn’t like those other things I had you do. You’re going to be working with my team, working for Intelligence and you’re going to have to wear a wire and you’re going to have to do exactly what I say. No funny business and then you never have to see me again, alright?”

Tyler gave her a smirk, “Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing you again just so long as it’s not in a police capacity.”

Hailey resisted punching him in the face. That was another thing; he endlessly flirted with her and it was most definitely unwelcome. Tyler was a selfish dead beat who hung out with criminals in Canaryville and that was the only reason why she made him a CI instead of charging him. And it was pure-luck that she caught him with possession in the first place; she wasn’t even supposed to be on duty when she’d snatched him up and she wasn’t about to waste an in with a no-snitch neighborhood.

Although there were times she seriously regretted it.

Hailey blew out a breath, spinning around to stomp out the door, throwing directions over her shoulder, “Be at the 21st district in an hour and be discrete about getting there.” Then slamming the door shut. 

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

“Here’s your wire. We’ll be right outside, listening,” Hailey handed Tyler the piece of equipment for him to attach to his shirt. She glanced at him, “Make sure it’s hidden.”

Jay looked up from the tablet he was holding, “Usually we would have someone under to shadow you but it’s Canaryville and anyone we placed would stick out like a sore thumb so, you’re on your on to a point. Be careful about getting the information, don’t push too hard.”

“Talk for me,” Hailey messed with something on the computer she had on her lap. Tyler shot her a look that clearly said he wanted to be anywhere but here, “I am talking. I’ll get your information and then I’m done.”

Hailey shared a subtle look with Jay, sighing in annoyance, “Yes, Tyler.”

She closed the laptop and she and Jay gathered the stuff they needed. Jay motioned for Tyler to get up, “Alright, we’re set. We’ll drop you off at the diner.”

Jay grabbed the box of technology from her, slightly brushing up against her and giving her a small smile which helped ease the tension she felt in her shoulders. She restrained herself from wanting to peck him on the cheek because she knew Tyler was right behind them.

Jay headed out the door towards the parking lot and Hailey waited for Tyler to start moving as she brought up the rear, “I didn’t know you needed any help carrying boxes ‘cause I would’ve gladly helped you out. I can be chivalrous if that’s what you want.” Tyler threw smirk over his shoulder and in response Hailey gave him a not-so-light shove.

God, if she could only get through this one thing she’d be rid of him and his stupid, useless flirting.

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

“He’s a real charmer,” Jay shook his head in disbelief.

Hailey glanced at him, mumbling, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

They had just spent the last ten minutes listening to Tyler flirt with a couple of girls who flirted back and then proceeded to meet up with his buddies where they took bets on which girl they thought would be better in bed. They then took it a step further by daring each other to get one of the girls in their bed before the week was out to prove the previous bet.

He was finally getting to the actual reason of why he was in that particular diner with that particular group of friends for which Hailey was immensely grateful for because she had been about ready to go in there and kick his ass if she’d had to listen to anymore of that crap.

“It’s safe to say I will be more than happy to let Tyler off the hook once all this is over. He has been so difficult and it doesn’t help that he flirts with me every opportunity he gets,” Hailey sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.

Jay pulled a face, “And just for that I don’t like him.”

Hailey had to let out a little smile, “What? You jealous?”

He grimaced even more when he saw Hailey chuckling quietly to herself, “I don’t like creepy guys who have a criminal background flirting with my wife.” 

He shot her another look, “Sue me.”

She wasn’t even trying to hide her snickers anymore and Jay scrunched his face up at her, grabbing the binoculars she held in her hands while pointing a finger at her, “Or any guy for that matter.”

Hailey quickly leaned over to drop a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “You’re lucky I love you.”

The air changed around them into a charged warmth. Jay looked at her with a soft intensity, “Yeah, yeah I am.”

The moment was broken by Tyler’s voice filtering through the van, asking some very pointed questions about the money heists Intelligence was chasing. Their eyes widened as they shared an alarmed glance. 

Hailey felt like banging her head against the side of the van, “What is he doing? That is the very opposite of subtle.”

Jay rubbed a stressed hand over his face, “What happened to ‘don’t push too hard’? He’s going to get himself made or us. We need to pull him.”

Hailey shot Jay an aggravated glance, “We can’t. He refused an earpiece, remember?” She motioned towards the diner they were parked outside of, “Unless one of us goes in there and somehow says the safe word without getting made and Tyler actually listens.”

Jay was already shaking his head, “No, it’s too dangerous. We let it play out unless the situation starts to flip and then we go in.”

The next few minuets passed in an anxious silence as they listened to the information Tyler was getting by doing everything they had told him not to do but there hadn’t been any cause for them to rush in guns blazing yet, so they were resigned to waiting.

It took a few more minuets of waiting until finally, Tyler was strutting out of the diner with an over-confident smirk. Hailey and Jay watched as he jogged across the street to the waiting van.

Jay swung the sliding door open and Tyler was greeted with matching looks of annoyance and condemnation, “What the hell, man? That was not what we talked about.”

“I got your info, didn’t I?” 

Hailey refrained herself from wiping that cocky look off his face. She turned towards Jay, having a brief conversation with their eyes before grabbing the laptop to put in notes. She felt Jay lay a soothing hand on her knee as he leaned past her to grab the other laptop and she could smell the comforting smell of his cologne mixed with their laundry detergent.

“Oh my god,” Tyler suddenly complained, rolling his eyes, “Can you two please get a room?”

She and Jay turned towards him with startled looks. Tyler rolled his eyes again, “Oh come on, you guys have been giving each other heart eyes ever since we left. The sexual tension or chemistry or whatever is so obvious and don’t think I haven’t noticed those little touches you’ve been giving each other.”

All Hailey could do was blink and Jay had the same expression of bewilderment on his face as they stared at Tyler, taken aback by his somewhat inappropriate statement.

Tyler sighed dramatically at the stunned silence before giving Jay a look, “Look man, if you don’t want to do anything about it, then step aside because I would gladly get a room with her instead.”

Jay’s face morphed into a possessive, angered look and Hailey barely had time to sling an arm across his chest so he wouldn’t pounce on Tyler. The guy may have deserved whatever Jay was about to do but Hailey didn’t want him to get in any potential hot water—it just wasn’t worth it.

“I would back off if I were you,” It was a deep growl, and normally Hailey would be somewhat put out that Jay was speaking for her but she had to admit that he was pretty sexy when he defended her like that. His jaw firmly set and warning in his eyes.

“Why?” Tyler asked lazily, “You two dating or something?”

Jay’s eyes narrowed and she could feel him straining against the arm she still had slung across his chest. Hailey sent him a warning look.

His eyes locked onto hers in an intense silent battle for a few long seconds till she felt Jay relent, his body relaxing slightly and Hailey knew she had won this round. She cautiously lowered her arm, her eyes still trained on Jay’s to tell him she was serious about him not beating up Tyler.

Hailey glanced back at Tyler who had been watching this whole exchange like one would watch a soap opera. 

Jay busied himself with packing up the few pieces of equipment that was floating around in the back of the van and she could feel the huffiness coming off of him in waves as he calmed himself down.

She was watching Jay warily as he slid the box holding their tech underneath the table attached to the van wall before looking up to meet Tyler’s stare.

“No, actually, we aren’t dating,” He snapped grouchily, “We’re married, so I would appreciate it if you would stop eyeing my wife like a piece of meat and cut out the terrible flirting before I really lose it and knock you into next week. Okay? Thanks.”

And with that, Jay got up, stomped to the front to slide into the driver’s seat. He then started the van and pulled out of their spot.

Hailey didn’t really know what to say, torn between wanting to laugh at Tyler’s shocked expression or scowl at Jay for his obvious display of displeasure.

She was saved from having to come up with something to say because Tyler finally picked up his hanging jaw to squeak out, “You’re married!?”

Hailey sucked in her bottom lip before releasing it, affirming his startled exclamation with an exasperated “yep”, popping the ‘p’. She turned in her chair, leaving her CI in state of shock behind her.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Tyler’s wounded but still somewhat shocked voice piped up.

Hailey rolled her eyes both amused and annoyed at how Tyler was responding at the information Jay had given him, “Nope.”

She barely discussed her personal life with people she knew so she certainly wasn’t going to share it with a CI. Her marriage to Jay didn’t concern Tyler; he wasn’t worth being let in on the thing she treasured most.

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

They dropped Tyler off a few blocks from his house, his eyes still wide as Hailey bid him farewell for the last time supposing he didn’t get into any more trouble.

Jay had glared at him until he was out of sight and Hailey shook her head, rolling her eyes at Jay’s expression. She didn’t say anything even though she thought his sulky behavior was a little much.

They drove back to the district in silence; Hailey sitting in the floor in the back packing up surveillance equipment as Jay stewed in the driver’s seat. He pulled into the large garage that was attached to the 21st district, parking the van with the other undercover vehicles.

Hailey unscrewed the last camera lens to put it’s case when Jay slid open the van door. She looked up, watching as Jay glanced around the garage as if he was making sure there was no one around and she noticed he had a determined glint in his eyes.

“Jay?” She questioned as he popped his head back into the back of the van, holding out his hand obviously waiting for her to take it.  

He wiggled his fingers, “Come on. Hurry!” 

Hailey gave him a puzzled look but scooted out of the van anyways, allowing to him to grab her hand, “What are you doing Jay? What’s going on?”

He didn’t answer her, instead he stole across the garage floor, tugging Hailey along behind him. She thought they were headed for the door that led back into the district but Jay bypassed it, heading down the short hallway that held supply closets.

“What the hell, Jay?” He just gave her a self-satisfied smirk as he did one last glance around before opening the door to one of the supply closets and nudging her inside.

To say she was confused would be an understatement.

Hailey turned around to see Jay shutting the door behind him, locking it. He approached her and this time the look in his eye was one she instantly recognized.

Her eyes widened, disbelief playing across her face, “Jay Halstead! What do you think you’re doing?”

At this point, Jay was so close to her, she could feel the evidence of where his head was at. He reached down to nuzzle her ear, “I’m getting that room Tyler suggested we get.”

Hailey tried to resist but with him so close and his scent intoxicating her, it was hard not to cave into the kisses he was giving her neck.

“Jay,” She hissed. Well, it came out as more of a moan but that didn’t stop her from trying to bat his hands away from where they were sliding up her shirt, “We’re at work!”

Jay lifted his head, coming to kiss her at the corner of her lips, “That’s never stopped us before.”

She wanted to glare at him but she was starting to lose control of herself, her hands roaming up and down Jay’s broad back. 

And it was true. 

Being at work had never stopped them before no matter how much she tried to protest these little escapades so she figured once more probably wouldn’t hurt them.

Well, what did you think? I tried to write Hailey’s CI kind of like Adam’s CI in that one one episode so I guess that’s where I got my inspiration from. I hope you liked it and maybe it made you laugh. Love you all!

[nobodyfamousposts]

BURN THE WITCH! - Part 8

Finally! It is finished.

Also...warnings I guess for itchiness. And severe scratching due to itchiness.

Here goes:

Lila was prideful. Exceedingly so. But let it not be said she was too prideful to know when it was time to jump ship.

And the ship that was Paris was sinking fast.

All thanks to Ladybug, of course. Because “Little Miss Righteousness” just had to stick her nose into Lila’s business. How dare that insect make a fool out of her?

She would have had to leave soon anyway. While she could certainly come up with a new story to fool her classmates and explain away the previous unfortunate incident, it would still be difficult since they were starting to wise up and it would be harder to keep them under her thumb if she stayed much longer. While the akuma had been dealt with and everyone’s memories erased, Lila didn’t want to take any chances.

Then there was the matter with Hawk Moth. She had some suspicion of his identity—but that was all it was: suspicion. The evidence she had to go on was circumstantial at best. Unless she could find something to confirm it, it was useless. And even if she was right, there wasn’t much likelihood that she would be able to make use of it without proof.

She clenched her fists in growing rage at the reminder.

How dare he turn on her like that?!

There was something that grated at her knowing that she would be leaving things unfinished. That she would be letting him get away unscathed. She at least wanted to get some sort of payback for him leaving her to dry.

If there was any real justice in the world, she would get the chance to try and take his Miraculous for herself. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Especially after how he had cut ties with her.

But now he would expect her to try something. He may even try to take her out himself first. It was what Lila would do in his place.

No, it was better to cut her losses. She still had the an exemplary school record. She still had her position and experience as a model to take with her. She could just move somewhere new and start over. There was nothing worth staying in Paris for anyway. She was getting bored here.

Her decision had absolutely nothing to do with Ladybug’s threat though! Ladybug was clearly the one jealous of her! She wasn’t scared of that pathetic little bug! She was too much of a goody-goody to actually do anything to Lila herself! Ladybug was supposed to be held to a higher standard, after all! She was just bluffing! She wouldn’t actually do anything to her! So Lila had no reason to be scared! And she wasn’t!

It took a moment for Lila to realize her hand holding the phone was trembling. She bit back a curse and clutched the hand with the other to hide it and force the them to still. But when that didn’t work, she set the phone on speaker before putting it on its stand on the table.

Lila’s mother, bless her, was ignorant of this inner turmoil—or if she was aware, she simply attributed it to Lila’s claims. The woman was all too willing to blindly trust her precious daughter. All Lila had to do was use that and soon Paris and all its problems would be nothing but a bad memory.

She busied with drying her hair with a towel while regaling her mother with the tale of the latest attack—albeit a heavily edited version. Honestly though, wasn’t that stupid Cure of Ladybug’s supposed to fix everything to how it was before the attack? So shouldn’t she have been dry already? And back in her new designer clothes?

As it was, her fall in the Seine had left her hair a mess, and she barely had time to simply wash it properly, much less take the good long soak she really craved. She was fortunate enough that there had been time to return home and try to clean up at all. And especially to get rid of those clothes she had “borrowed“ from Marinette’s home. The last thing she needed was to be seen running around in that. Not that there was anything wrong with the clothes themselves, but questions would no doubt arise as to where she had gotten them or why she was wearing them. And the last thing she needed was for her mother and Marinette of all people to meet.

After a moment of consideration, she twisted the towel just enough to cause her pain. With a hiss and a gasp, it sounded quite like she had been crying. Enough to fool someone who was not physically there at any rate.

“I just miss Home. It’s been so long.” She said, ending with a sniffle that may have been partly exaggerated and may have been partly a sign of a cold coming on.

“But what about your friends? You just seemed to be getting so settled in Paris. You even have a boyfriend. From what you’ve been telling me, you two are awfully close. You have a difficult enough time seeing each other as it is. Won’t moving just make it worse?”

Geez, the woman was being annoyingly persistent today.

“We can write and video chat.” Lila replied easily. She could just “break it off” later. Maybe claim he’d been cheating on her. That was usually good for some sympathy points.

Her mother paused at that. “But long distance relationships are much more difficult. And I thought you liked it in Paris? You’ve been doing so well here. I hadn’t seen you so happy in a long time.”

Of course she’d been happy. She had people devoted to her every whim, fame and connections as a model, and a cushy front row seat to the downfall of that so-called hero.

Lila narrowly avoided clicking her tongue in irritation. Why did her mother have to be so parentally concerned now of all times?

“But Mom, I’m just worried about all of the akumas!” She said with exaggerated earnesty. “This last one was really dangerous! I could have been killed!” She bit her lip and hitched her breath, as if trying to hold back tears. Or hide her lack of them. It was a good thing her mother wasn’t there to see and possibly call her out on it.

Not that she would. She was such a good mother like that. Overly trusting and easily duped. How many teenagers could say they were so lucky?

“I’ve tried to make the best of Paris, but it’s just too much!” Lila cried.

“Oh, my poor dear!” Came her mothers’s voice over the phone. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize how much this move has had an effect on you.”

In that instant, she knew she had good as won. From the safety of her home and with no one in direct sight, Lila allowed herself a smug grin of victory before schooling her expression back to that of the pitiful child she wanted the older woman to see her as. No one may have been there to see it, but as an avid actress of her skill level, it helped her to match her desired tone and inflection with an appropriate expression. She gasped loudly and grabbed the phone to bring it closer to her.

“But Mom, I know how important this job is to you! I don’t want to get in the way...”

“It’s all right, dear. I can contact your aunt and have you stay with her and your cousins until I can finish things here.”

That made her frown.

Lila’s aunt was...not ideal, as her cousins had been among the earlier victims of Lila’s manipulations. She dared say her aunt favored her over any of her children by the time she’d left them. And her cousins were wary of her to say the least after the way she had played them against each other and themselves. But that had been a couple of years ago and she couldn’t be sure they hadn’t caught on and solidified their relationships to better counter her.

Still, if Paris was any indication of how easily people could be fooled and turned against one another, she could probably manage it again.

“Lila?” Her mother called, drawing her attention back. “Are you all right?”

Lila played up the uncertainty. “I don’t know…I wouldn’t want to cause you or Auntie trouble…I can just stay here.” She looked down and to the side and spoke tonelessly, the picture of a dejected daughter. “I’m sure I can just try to put my fear aside and make the best of it…”

“Nonsense!” Her mother exclaimed. “You should never have to make yourself suffer like that!”

There was the sound of papers being shifted, followed by the clicking of a mouse. No doubt her mother was already looking into the procedure on how to transfer.

“I only want you to be safe and well, mi bella.” Her mother said, softly. “And if Paris isn’t the best fit for you, then I’ll discuss the matter with the Embassy and see about ending my assignment early.”

“But Mom, you don’t have to! I can manage, really!” She half-heartedly attempted. “The heroes are even starting to do a…half-way decent job.”

Her mother scoffed. “A job that they have been at for over a year and still can’t manage! It’s clearly not safe here if the city’s own heroes can’t even do their jobs properly.”

Hook.

“But let’s get you taken out of that school first.”

Line.

Lila smirked, unseen.

“Thank you, Mom.”

Sinker.

__________________

Another loss. And a worse one, even.

Witch Hunter had been ruthless and efficient. Perhaps one of his better creations to date. Her powers to know one’s sins and enthrall anyone who heard her announcements soon gained her the entirety of Paris under her sway—and by extension, his. That the powers specifically targeted one girl would have been a disadvantage had the girl in question not had such a…sordid history. That history fortunately gave plenty of opportunities to rally others to the cause, but as evidenced from the fight, it still had limitations.

If only Lila had some ounce of subtlety. Then even Ladybug would have been affected by Witch Hunter, and both Miraculous would have been willingly handed over to him if it meant getting rid of the girl in exchange. The key had been that Ladybug’s opinion of Lila had already been so low that no “reveal” of her misdeeds had been enough to enthrall her.

How curious. He had been aware of Lila’s grudge against Ladybug, but he hadn’t realized that the feelings were mutual. Just what had Lila done to make Ladybug despise her so?

He could hazard a guess, but not any that would lead him anywhere. Lila’s list of crimes was rather extensive. And despite the knowledge he had of her, even he couldn’t boast immunity to the rage.

So what had kept Ladybug from giving up on her?

Was it Ladybug’s Miraculous that protected her? Some sort of inner strength? Or was she already aware of his use of Lila? But even if she was aware, how would that be enough?

He had been able to keep his head, but some of the things he heard had been enough to turn his stomach and make him question his alliance with her. He had been accepting at first of her audacity in how she approached him on both sides of the mask, as she presented herself as useful and willing to aid him. And she had been useful, he would give her that. Her main concern was having others under her sway and she was willing to do anything to maintain it…even remove anyone who would become a threat to her.

He hadn’t lied when he told Lila she was of no more use to him. But that hadn’t been the entire truth. Given what he now realized, she was more of a threat than he had ever considered. He couldn’t put it past her to try to figure out his identity to take his Miraculous for herself.

He took a breath.

Perhaps...he needed to reconsider the girl’s position? On both sides of the mask.

“Sir? What should be done about Lila Rossi?” While the interruption from Nathalie was timely, it didn’t truly disrupt his current thought process.

It was a good question. She had been a willing ally and useful tool in manipulating people. He certainly had praise for her skills.

But...

Perhaps he should have been more cautious and try to question just how she obtained those skills?

As well as her intentions for the future. For himself and especially for his son.

How much did she know? Had she discovered him? Did she suspect? What plans did she have? And now that she had been revealed as a willing ally, what information could others get out of her that could lead back to him?

Lila Rossi was a threat. He could see that now.

But just how much of a risk was she? How much did he risk if she were allowed to remain free? It was clear Ladybug knew of their alliance, and she would be keeping an eye on the girl from here on out. What else could she gain from Lila if he didn’t remove her?

“Sir?”

He paused, considering for a moment.

Then came to a decision.

“Nothing.”

Nathalie started at that in surprise.

“Her contract with the company will be terminated, of course.” He stated, turning to go to his desk and prepare to sign the necessary paperwork. “The company will put out an official statement that we deny any knowledge of her history or dealings, and that we disavow her actions. Anything else is already held under a nondisclosure agreement she signed upon her hiring. Though we should prepare legal action if she attempts to retaliate.”

“But…what should be done about her assistance to you as Hawk Moth?” Nathalie asked.

He straightened.

“Nothing.” He repeated. And he did not like to repeat himself.

“Sir? Is that wise? She has been an accomplice.” She warned him with a frown. “What if she has learned who you are? She could become dangerous.”

He sighed.

“She is a loose thread. But to act on it at this point and try to remove her will only backfire. Ladybug will doubtless be keeping an eye on her from now on. We would risk more if we were caught trying to get rid of her.”

“But since you left her to Witch Hunter’s mercy, she may try to retaliate against you.”

Oh, of that he had little doubt. It was in her nature to turn on those who would not play by her rules.

He had little choice at that point. Witch Hunter and all of Paris were focused solely on seeing the girl punished. He had no way of knowing Ladybug wasn’t already part of the crowd by that time. His mistake was underestimating Ladybug’s will, but even then, would he really have responded differently?

Lila Rossi had lost her use as a tool, and with her antics had used up any good will he had towards her. She lacked the subtlety or even the good sense to simply limit the extent of her lies lest she be found out and face backlash. But much like Miss Bourgeois, she seemed inclined to push the limits of what she could get away with. And unfortunately, with superheroes and villains in Paris, the bounds of what she could normally get away with had increased drastically. Even worse was that she fully seemed to believe she ‘deserved’ the praise and attention simply for claiming things she had never done.

And given how one of her first actions was to buy a trinket to pass off as a false Miraculous and proclaim herself a hero, how long would it have taken for her to decide that she ‘deserved’ a Miraculous as well?

“It was only a matter of time before she set her sights too high. It would be better to cut her off now before she got any ideas about taking a Miraculous, even if it was my own.”

He couldn’t put it past her. Because as much as she despised Ladybug, how could such a girl be satisfied only with her destruction? If she did aid in Ladybug’s defeat, she’d likely just take the Ladybug Miraculous for herself at the first opportunity, and then Gabriel would be back at square one.

No, worse. Because Lila Rossi wouldn’t risk herself for others. It was highly likely she would run away with the Miraculous and then he would lose any chance of obtaining it in this lifetime.

…

Lila Rossi had her uses, but it was best to cut his losses with her now. And Witch Hunter had been the prime time to do so.

It would have been foolish of him to risk his hold over Witch Hunter just to spare Lila at that point. But there was no doubt that she will seek retribution for it. She was certainly spiteful enough, even when it would be to her own detriment.

Still…

“That girl has caused enough problems. We don’t need her interfering with our plans.“

Nathalie clutched her tablet, still worried. “But if she knows…if she tries to reveal you…”

“Lila Rossi is a liar.” He stated as he pulled up news footage of the latest akuma fight. “She is a liar and now people know it. Anything she thinks she knows, we can dismiss as a jilted teenager with delusions of grandeur and an unhealthy interest in my son.”

He paused for a moment, then leaned back in his chair to look to his assistant.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the tale of the ‘Boy Who Cried Wolf’?”

“I am familiar with it, yes.” She replied, albeit confused as to the sudden subject change. “But what does that have to do with this?”

“In the story, the boy is eaten. But his final claim is ultimately proven true, for all the good it does him.” He looked back to the footage, pausing it on Lila’s expression while she was on the pyre.

“But if we do not respond…if Hawk Moth does nothing to silence her, there is no ‘proof’ to her claims. People will suspect it to be another lie. Even moreso, that it’s merely an attempt to get back at me as her ‘former employer’. There will be no ‘wolf’ to validate her claims, even once she’s gone. So yes, we will leave Miss Rossi to her daily life. Let her say what she may think she knows.”

He smirked.

“She could scream it to the world and no one would believe her.”

__________________

It took a while for them to have their conversation and for Marinette to dry her tears. By the time she was able to reach some level of calm, it was almost time to return to school.

One would think that they would be allowed the rest of the day to recover from the akuma attack, but Paris as a whole and the school in particular seemed used to the frequent interruptions by this point. Though perhaps it was more of a testament to Ladybug’s efficiency in dealing with akumas.

…as well as the efficiency of the civilians to set up an entire festival on a spur of the moment. Perhaps she should recommend they try another one at some point? One that doesn’t involve lighting anyone on fire?

When she went downstairs, she found her parents in something of a state of worry. They looked up in surprise when she came down, but were relieved to see her.

“Marinette? When did you get home? I didn’t see you come in.” Tom said.

“A little while ago. We must have just missed each other.” Marinette replied quickly. Then frowned when she notice their expressions. “Is everything okay?”

“There was an akuma attack earlier and one of your schoolmates came here.” Sabine explained. “We had tried to help her and allowed her to change clothes here into something dry, but she took it upon herself to go into your room.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “What?!”

“I don’t know what she was doing in there.” Sabine huffed, angrily. “When I caught her, she tried to claim she had gotten lost. Then your father had gotten a text message from Nadja about a ‘Witch’ and she took off running.”

Lila. There was no one else it could have been. Which meant she had probably done something to sabotage her.

Great. Just great.

They had checked her room and taken pictures of how she left it since they were uncertain of what she may have messed with. As it stood, they wanted to know if anything had been stolen and were questioning whether to call the police.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Her father told her.

“We both are. She was soaked and we had wanted to give her some privacy while she changed.” Sabine shook her head. “I hadn’t thought she would go roaming around the house, much less sneak into your room.”

Tom rested a hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “We should follow up on this though. Maybe Roger will have some advice.”

Sabine nodded to him before turning to her daughter. “Will that be all right, dear?”

Marinette hesitated.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t frustrated. With them. With the situation. All of it.

In their defense, they hadn’t realized it was Lila. And even if they had, they weren’t aware of just how horrible Lila truly was. Despite Marinette’s pleas of innocence during her expulsion, her parents hadn’t fully taken her word for it and even afterwards hadn’t quite believed that Lila was a chronic liar.

But there was a part of her—the part that was still full of indignant anger over the incident and would have formed the core of the Princess Justice akuma Hawk Moth had wanted her to be—that blamed them. If they had just listened to her back then. If they had simply heard her out. If they had believed her about Lila.

They should have known. They should have recognized Lila. They should have remembered what she had done before and at the very least thought to keep an eye on her just in case she tried anything like she had before.

…but Marinette didn’t have it in her to hold a grudge. Especially after what she had seen with Lila and her own grudge.

It wasn’t their fault, it was Lila’s. And while she was irritated with her parents for their negligence, she was willing to forgive them and keep her focus on the one who really deserved her ire.

So for now, she would try to move forward and do what she could.

“I’m not happy about it. But if anything can be done, I’d like to see if we could.”

Her parents agreed and offered reassurances that they would try to address the issue. They also promised her they would be more cautious in the future, which was nice fo them. They offered to let her stay home from school, but that was one thing she had to turn down.

Whatever Lila had done, Marinette probably wouldn’t know until Lila revealed it. It made her dread returning to school. But she couldn’t keep putting it off. If she went now, she could at least try to meet with the others and head off anything Lila could do.

So she made a quick rush to the kitchen to get a small lunch for herself and some cookies for Tikki. With her parents otherwise occupied, that meant that Tikki could come out of hiding and they could talk freely for a bit longer.

“Marinette, maybe you should take a break and stay home for the rest of the school day?” Tikki suggested. And wow, she was certainly taking this ‘be more supportive’ role to heart.

Something in Marinette warmed at that. And in any other circumstances, she would happily have taken Tikki’s advice.

“I’m fine, Tikki. Really.”

Tikki frowned, clearly not buying it. “But you’ve spent half of your day dealing with the crisis caused by Lila and then the akuma that was caused by that crisis, all while trying to keep Lila safe. Even when she was working against you.”

Yeah. There was that.

“You did a lot today. Both as Ladybug and Marinette.” Tikki continued. “No one would fault you if you let yourself recover.”

Marinette hesitated at that.

It was tempting. She was tired. And if she was being honest, she really just wanted to sleep and not deal with anything until tomorrow at least.

But…

She bit her lip.

For all that Tikki’s words made sense and clearly came from a place of concern for her, Marinette couldn’t help but be reminded of only a couple hours ago where Tikki had been trying to convince her to let Lila burn.

She knew that this was different. A matter of self care and health. But even though it’s something she’s wanted and something she appreciates hearing from her kwami, it still felt so strange now that she was experiencing it.

This was something she was going to have to get used to. And she would, she was sure. After all, Tikki was clearly trying for her. And Marinette wanted nothing more than to reciprocate—and also to just drop off into sweet blessed sleep…

However…

“I need to see this through.” She stated, resolutely.

She needed to get back to the school. Both for class and to check on her friends.

After all, even if her Miraculous Cure had fixed the damage caused from the akuma, that didn’t mean her friends were fine. And she still wanted to check in on Rose at the very least.

Tikki looked up at her sadly. Then she floated over and nuzzled Marinette’s cheek, showing her silent support.

It only took a few minutes to gather the rest of her things and make her way to the school.

Even if Tikki assured her that what happened wasn’t her fault, Marinette still felt the need to apologize to Rose for what had happened. Maybe they could still find some way to fix things.

She reached the school in minutes and had almost immediately run into one of her classmates.

Just not the one she had been expecting.

“Adrien?”

He spun to face her, appearing nervous. Even panicked.

“Oh, hey! Marinette! Hi! Hey, um…hey.” He finished, looking embarrassed. “How…are you?”

“I’m fine. Just…have a lot on my mind.” She shrugged. “Just…with Rose and the akuma and everything.”

“Good. That’s good. Well, not good-good about the akuma. But good that you’re okay. Um. Me too.” He looked away, clearly still nervous.

She frowned in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Fine! I’m fine! Just…y’know…got caught up in the akuma attack and was one of her minions for a while. But Ladybug saved me so we’re good.” He said with a not fully sincere smile.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She hadn’t recalled seeing Adrien among the mob. But given how big it had gotten, she wouldn’t be surprised.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. 

“Marinette…one of the things Witch Hunter said…” He looked her in the eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me Lila had threatened you?”

She straightened in shock. “What?!”

He rubbed the back of his head, looking to the ground. “I’m sorry, it’s just…she said a lot of things Lila had done that I hadn’t known. Like…well…” The book. Her framing Adrien for insulting Nino. Her working with his father. “How she threatened you?”

“Oh.” She said, a bit blankly. Because what else could she say?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He implored her. “I had said we were in this together, but…you didn’t tell me she did that.”

It was true. She hadn’t.

But…why hadn’t she?

“I…didn’t think it was a big deal?”

Why was she asking him instead of telling him?

“Not a big—Marinette, she threatened you!” His eyes widened in realization. “Her expelling you was part of her threat, wasn’t it?”

She flinched, but nodded.

“Just…why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you! I would have done more!”

She waved her hands frantically, trying to console him. “It’s okay, Adrien! Really! You were only—it was just…”

A tap at her leg caught her attention. It came from her purse. A quick glance downward revealed Tikki looking up at her from the safety of the clutch she carried with her. The little kwami remained hidden to Adrien, fortunately, but visible to her. Tikki looked up at her with wide eyes and gave a smile and small nod of encouragement.

Why would she—?

Oh.

Oh, right.

“No.” She admitted. “It’s not okay.”

She had been spending months now convincing herself that things were okay when they weren’t. That she was okay when she wasn’t. And that if she at any point felt she wasn’t okay, it was a failing on her part.

That wasn’t a healthy way to live, as she was only just now starting to understand that.

“I don’t know if you realize this, but I’ve been listening to you on things because I look up to you. I took your advice because I trusted you and believed that you only had everyone’s best interest at heart.”

“But I did!” He insisted automatically before catching himself. “I mean, I thought I was...”

“I trusted you over my own intuition. I listened to you when you kept emphasizing the feelings of others over my own. Chloe was bad enough, but Lila too? Even if they were the ones who were horrible, it felt like I was expected to just...” She struggled for a moment to find the wording to accurately convey her feelings before simply shrugging. “Just deal with it.”

He winced. He hadn’t realized the impact he’d had.

“Because of that,” she continued, “whenever I started to have an issue, I brushed it off because I figured that if there was a problem with someone and something they were doing...well, it was just me, right? So I had to do the right thing. I had to be the bigger person. I had to be the ‘Everyday Ladybug’. Even when I didn’t feel like I could be.”

She took a breath.

“And that wasn’t fair to me.”

He looked up at her. Sad and worried and sympathetic all in one. “I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter. I just thought...”

“Chloe’s your friend so it makes sense that you’d want to defend her.” Marinette reasoned. “But Lila, too?” She wrung her hands. “They both did horrible things. They both hurt me...really badly. And it felt like you’ve cared more about their feelings than mine.”

“That’s not it!” He exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. “I just...I know they aren’t then nicest, but they’re struggling. It’s…harder for them than it is for you.“

“If they’re having a hard time, it’s because it’s entirely of their own making. Chloe has been bullying everyone for years, so it’s not our fault that we don’t want to continue to deal with that mistreatment. And Lila has been actively lying to everyone not to be like, but just so she can manipulate them. I get that you care, but your attempts to protect the people you see as ‘needing it’ has resulted in harm to other people who don’t deserve it. You aren’t just enabling them...you’re rewarding them.

“You said to take the highroad, but whatever the highroad is, I don’t think that’s it.”

He gaped at her, some combination of shocked and horrified.

“But I haven’t been encouraging any of this! I tried to help you! I made a deal with her so she would get you back into school.“

Well, that was something she hadn’t known. Although his sudden friendliness with Lila had been suspicious. As had the schools sudden change of heart about her expulsion. But she hadn’t realized the two had been related.

She was grateful to him. Truly. He had only done it for her.

However...

“I never asked you to.”

She wouldn’t have wanted it had she known.

“I never asked you to become Lila’s toy or put yourself in such a bad position for my sake. I only asked you to stand by me and support me.”

She had turned to him that day, wanting him—just someone who knew the truth to speak up in her defense.

To say she was innocent.

To admit that Lila had lied.

To just say she was believed. That she was worth believing in.

“And you didn’t.“

He stared at her. Long and hard. As if this had never occurred to him before. He seemed unable to speak for a full minute.

Until…

“I’m sorry.“

She jumped in surprise.

“I was a hypocrite. I knew she was lying but I convinced myself it wasn’t that bad. And even when I knew people were hurt, it didn’t matter until her lies hurt me.”

He gave a weak laugh.

“Witch Hunter…did you know? The way her power worked was that you only fell under her spell when she announced something Lila did that truly makes you angry.”

He covered his face. In resignation? In guilt?

“I only fell under Witch Hunter’s spell when she revealed Lila had been spying on me for my father. Not when I found out what she did to Rose. Not when I found out what she did to Nino. Not even when I found out what she did to you.” He shook his head. “It only mattered, really truly mattered when it affected me.”

He hung his head in shame.

“I’m a real jerk.”

The denial was automatic on her lips.

“You aren’t a jerk!” She insisted. “You were just—”

He gave a bitter laugh, cutting her off.

“I was so proud of myself that day. When I told you to take the highroad and not out Lila.”

He looked up at her smiling humorlessly.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch you? All the time, I see you doing the right thing. Standing up for people. Doing things to make people happy. Making things better.”

He sighed.

“It felt...it felt good being the one you would listen to and follow.” He admitted. “You were looking up to me and taking my advice. I was so proud of myself! I got to be the one who had solved the problem and made everything better!” He announced with a wave of his hands in an exaggerated fashion before slumping down.

“I’m such an idiot.”

She stared.

He…really admired her that much?

And at that time, he’d just been trying to impress her?

That…hadn’t been the inclination she had gotten at all. It had just felt that he was admonishing her at those times for not being the bigger person. Looking back, now that she was willing to admit it, it had felt like more expectations and double standards.

“I can’t say what you did was okay, because it wasn’t. Lila was able to hurt me. And now she’s hurt Rose and everyone else now because neither of us spoke up when we should have.”

She took a breath.

“But I think I get it. About wanting someone you care about to listen and look up to you. Because that was how I’ve felt about you.”

He jumped and looked up at her in surprise.

Because when it came down to it, hadn’t she been the same? Doing things that had hurt her or others because she had been so focused on Adrien and wanting him to think well of her?

Was it ironic that it was only now, after everything that had happened this day, that she could finally voice even a bit of the feelings she has for him?

They just weren’t the feelings she thought she’d ever be sharing…

But maybe, she thought as she felt Tikki’s comforting presence by her side, these were the ones she needed to?

“It hurts that even when I’m doing the right thing and you say you’re with me, it still feels like you’re not really on my side. Even—especially when I’ve let things get this far at your request.”

“I didn’t mean—I’m sorry—” He started, but he broke off as she raised a hand to stop him.

“I just...” She shook her head. “If we really are friends, I wish you would show it more. And...that you would stand up for me the way you do for them.”

He stared at her in shock. Perhaps a bit of horror as her words really got to him.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured. “I never meant to make you feel that way. I never wanted you to think I don’t care.”

He stood straight and held out his arms to her in clear indication of…something. But she was exhausted—both mentally and physically as it was and her mind was a bit slow to catch just what he was intending to do.

“I know you can handle things, Marinette. You’re strong. And brave. It’s why I know I can trust you when things get tough. But…that you can handle things doesn’t mean you should have to. It doesn’t mean you don’t need support.”

He smiled at her. And oh damn, that smile. It was like a miniature sun and she couldn’t help but stare even as her brain was yelling at her to look away.

The next thing she knew, she was in his arms and…oh…this must be how being held by the sun felt like…

“I want to be someone who you can count on to support you, Marinette.”

Oh. Okay. Nice. This was nice. More of this please. More of just all of this.

The hug must have lasted an eternity. An hour at least? Because it felt like forever until she was drawn out of the soothing feeling by a rumbling and a series of sounds that seemed to mean something…

Could she just…stay like this? For a day or two? Maybe the rest of her life? Tikki tried, bless her, but kwami arms just weren’t the same as human arms and the feeling of being wrapped up in sunshine was bliss.

Oh wait, he was talking more. She should probably be listening right now.

“—contract. Maybe I could talk to them? See what else they know of that could help?”

“Hmm?”

She was dazed and completely out of it, something Adrien seemed to pick up on as he released his hold (noo, don’t do that!) and backed away (noooooo) to arm’s length to look her over.

“Marinette? Are you okay?”

She blinked a few times as her mind reoriented to where she was.

And more specifically to who she was with.

“Oh! Right! Fine! You’re fine—I mean, I’M fine. Just…” She sighed, rubbing at one eye with the palm of her hand. “Just a…long day.”

Maybe she should have stayed home after all if just one hug could do that…

Adrien seemed to notice this and frowned in concern. He took in her state and apparently there was something about her appearance she had missed earlier because he seemed to get the same idea.

“Marinette, are you okay? If you’re tired, maybe you should go home and rest?”

She shook her head insistently. “No. I can’t.”

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to push yourself. Remember? I’m going to support you. And I know everyone else would understand.”

She didn’t think they wouldn’t. But as much as she just wanted to sleep until tomorrow and skip the rest of this day, she wasn’t sure she would be able to relax at home if she didn’t know what was happening with her friends.

“If nothing else, I want to check up on Rose.” Seeing that he looked ready to argue, she rushed on. “I need this. Please.”

He hesitated. And she was worried he would push the issue, because she was sure that she would give in if he did. She just did not have the energy to argue at this point. Fortunately though, he seemed to understand as he took her arm in his.

“Okay. But I’ll be right here with you.”

Any other day, she would be a stammering mess if Adrien were to take her arm and walk with her like this.

Today, she was simply grateful.

__________________

It didn’t take them too long to find Rose. She was in the hallway talking with Alya. The two seemed deep in conversation that they didn’t notice the duo approach.

“Rose!” Marinette exclaimed, loosening her arm from Adrien’s hold and rushing to her friend. “Are you okay?”

The blonde looked up at her, tearful.

“I’m okay.” She murmured as she wiped at her eyes. 

“But are you?” Alya broke in, asking Marinette. “Girl, I saw the footage!”

Marinette blinked.

“Footage?” She asked, and then started to back away at the expression on Alya’s face.

Alya could be headstrong, but she never really got angry. Upset, certainly. Annoyed, often. But even in the heights of Lila’s worst attempts to make Marinette look bad, Alya had never truly gotten angry—just righteous and in Marinette’s opinion that was admittedly a bit resentful at the time, acting a bit superior. Perhaps the only time she had ever seen her friend look truly angry was during Hero’s Day, and even then it took a hit from Dark Cupid and Hawk Moth’s control to get her there.

So seeing Alya looking ready to claw someone’s eyes out was…unsettling, to say the least.

Even Adrien apparently seemed to think so, as he moved up to Marinette and almost seemed to position himself slightly between them. “Alya? What happened?”

Despite Adrien’s attempt to act as a barrier, Marinette tried to reach out, concerned for her friend’s state. The way she was looking, Marinette half wondered if she wasn’t still affected by Witch Hunter. A quick glance to a worried Rose disproved that easily enough, but perhaps it was a remnant of her power the Cure missed? “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean am I okay? Are YOU okay?!” Alya shouted, pointing at Marinette. “Girl, I saw what what happened with you and Lila!”

Marinette jumped. Her mind immediately raced to her call out of Lila just a little over an hour ago. Did someone record her going off? Was there something that had revealed her as Ladybug? Had she messed up?!

“What?! No wait—it’s not what you—I didn’t mean—!”

Alya was pulling up her phone, and by the time she turned it so that Marinette and Adrien could see, the video already started playing. The video was recorded from someone within the akuma’s mob—not yet grown to the level of the city yet.

Marinette briefly recognized that the location in the video seemed familiar but hadn’t quite registered how when a sudden commotion caught the attention of the group. The person recording turned the camera sharply, which blurred and then focused on a fallen figure a short distance away.

“—conspirator helping the Witch! Someone grab her!”

…oh. That figure was her.

And the moment when Lila had betrayed her and tried to sacrifice her to the mob.

“Hey! That’s Marinette!” Came Alya’s voice from the phone, shortly followed by the exclamations from the crowd that Marinette already knew were coming because she had lived this and yet despite seeing it on record, she still struggled to believe it actually happened.

…the crowd leaving her alone part. Not the Lila betraying her part. THAT, she could believe no question.

“I can’t believe she would do that!” Alya exclaimed. The real Alya. The present one. Who was standing in front of her and not the one in the phone—who was almost disturbingly cheerful in how she was calling for Lila’s blood.

…to be honest, Marinette wasn’t sure whether that mob Alya or the furious one in front of her scared her more. Present Alya, for her part, was clearly NOT happy about the events.

Neither was Adrien, apparently, as he grabbed the phone from Alya and looked to be furious himself.

“Wait—Lila did WHAT?!” He demanded. And…wow, was this what Adrien had been like as part of the mob? She hadn’t known he could get that angry.

“She tried to throw Marinette to the mob!” Alya bit out.

“I can’t believe it!”

“How could she—?!”

“When Marinette had just been trying to help her!”

“That lousy little b—”

“WHY did she even think that was necessary?!”

“Is it too late to torch her and say the akuma did it?”

Marinette looked between the two, feeling that she should be saying something but honestly, just getting all the more overwhelmed.

A hand on her arm broke her attention away from the two and back to poor Rose, who looked almost to the point of tears again.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Oh Rose, you deserved better than this.

“No! You actually let me go.” She insisted, much to the blonde’s visible relief. “You were focused only on Lila. And aside from getting people to help you hunt her down, you didn’t do anything to anyone else.”

If anything, the people of Paris seemed pretty happy for the excuse.

…maybe she really needed to talk to the Mayor about having a fun festival to just let everyone blow off steam?

She could focus on that later though. She shook her head and returned her attention to Rose. The girl still looked nervous, but less worried at least. That was good.

Rose sniffled. “I didn’t know. I’ve just been scared to see what my akuma did.”

“No one was hurt in the end.” Marinette assured her. “Ladybug came and stopped it. Nobody was hurt.”

Because Rose never really wanted to hurt anyone, she was sure. Even if it was Lila.

At most, maybe Lila got a little smokey smell to her. And a lot wet. But she survived. And without burns.

Rose seemed to slump in relief. “I’m so glad.”

And this…this right here was why it was worth it. Because the difference in Rose’s posture and expression within a few seconds meant a situation she could feel move on from versus a guilt she would be carrying with her all her life.

“I can't believe I almost did that! What did I become!?" Rose cried.

“You were akumatized. You were rightfully enraged by someone you thought was a friend taking advantage of you. Honestly, the only reason I didn't join in is because nothing about her shocks me anymore.”

Despite the attempt at reassurance, the smaller girl drew in on herself more. She rubbed at her eyes to wipe away tears and merely nodded at Marinette’s words. Hearing, but not fully agreeing. Or maybe it was the reminder that Marinette had known and tried to reveal Lila sooner to no avail.

Of all people, Rose didn’t deserve this. None of the classmates did, but Rose had been particularly trusting and was affected the worst because of this.

She couldn’t help it. She hugged Rose. If Adrien’s hug earlier had been so nice for her, maybe this could help the smaller girl in turn.

Rose certainly seemed to appreciate it as she hugged back…quite strongly, actually. Marinette had known Rose had some upper body strength given how she had been able to carry Chloe during the Zombizu attack but wow. Rose was smaller than Adrien, but her hug was just as warm but more tight.

Marinette lost herself a bit in the comfort she was giving and receiving. She barely even noticed that Adrien and Alya were still talking. She was peripherally aware that it was happening, but once again had lost track of what they were actually saying.

She had checked on Rose and made sure she was doing…well even if not fully okay. Maybe this was a sign she should go home?

“LIAR!”

It seemed it wasn’t to be, however, as a sudden commotion caught her notice, dragging her attention to a gathering down the hall.

And suddenly, Marinette was wide awake.

__________________

“—trusted me. Ladybug knew I would never do such a thing! That’s how she was able to ward off Witch Hunter.”

Lila giggled.

“You could say that the ‘power of friendship’ saved the day!”

Of course she was lying through her teeth once again. Not that she needed to at this point, really. Her mother was firmly in her corner and Lila would be getting to leave Paris soon enough. But there was a part of her that wanted to see if she couldn’t convince them one more time.

While she may not have a chance of getting revenge on Hawk Moth, she at least wanted some victory to take with her when she left. After all, Lila was hardly one to simply let things go and let this end without a last hurrah. No, if anything, when the chips were down, she was used to going all in. And if she lost? Well, not like it mattered if she wasn’t there to pay afterwards.

This time would be no different.

Truthfully, the only reason she was at the school at all was so her mother could file the paperwork to transfer her out. She hadn’t really wanted to go, but she had needed to be there to run interference in case anyone attempted to approach her. It had been part of the reason she had insisted on going despite her “harrowing” experience. Her mother had insisted on starting the process to remove Lila from the school immediately. And while she was sure no one would recognize the woman if she arrived alone, Lila knew she had to be there to “lead” the discussion between her mother and the Principal, as well as protect her mother from hearing any untoward rumors that could taint her view of her loving and trusted daughter.

Lila hadn’t intended to be caught by her soon to be former classmates. The original plan had been to simply disappear from their lives and leave them with their guilt and uncertainty. It was part of the reason she had agreed to come with her mother to the school so soon, as she had expected that everyone should be in class by the time they arrived. But her mother had gotten out earlier than expected, and people were still milling about the school.

She had kept her head down and hoped that no one would notice her. But luck was not in her favor it seemed, as Bustier had been late for some unknown reason, so her students had chosen to hang out in the hallways instead of waiting in the classroom or simply calling it a day and going home early.

A minor hiccup. She was sure that they would be forced to leave once class started. She separated from her mother with the pretense of saying goodbye to all of her friends, in the actual intention of simply buying time until the teacher returned and called them away. Her mother and Damocles had even seemed eager for her to, reassuring her that they did not need her and ushering her out of the room, which was all the more in her favor she supposed.

And really, how could she resist one more opportunity to see them dance for her?

After this, she would be home free. Not like they could do anything to her across international borders even if they did try.

There was no risk to her at this point. So It was worth pushing to see just how far she could milk this.

And these were the best saps a girl could ask for.

The present classmates listened to her tale of woe. Though  only a fraction of the crowd she would normally draw and not quite as eager as they used to, they were still listening to her patiently at least instead of simply blowing her off or calling her out. Which meant there was still a chance they would believe her.

A few of them actually seemed to be buying her story. And it had been one of her better tales, in her personal opinion. There were one or two that rolled their eyes—which, rude. A couple who seemed disinterested. But most of the rest seemed uncertain.

It was a shame Rose wasn’t there. Lila was sure that she would especially appreciate the performance. Though part of her was relieved, since she figured that the emotional girl would probably start crying if she had been.

Though there was also no Marinette either, which meant no one to counter her story as she had no doubt the little Miss Perfect would.

“You’re really saying that Marinette handed you off to the violent mob?”

That also meant she wasn’t there to defend herself either.

Lila hunched her shoulders and brought up a hand to her face in a nervous expression. “It’s not her fault. I’m sure it was because of the akuma. Even she wouldn’t turn on me like that just because she doesn’t like me…”

Cry her a river? She’d be seeing Marinette cry a river once she was done here. If she accomplished nothing else before she left, she would at least make sure Marinette Dupain-Cheng regretted talking to her like that.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t have done it if she was herself.” Mylene reached forward to comfort her but stopped a foot away and immediately decided to back off and keep her hands to herself. She coughed into her hand and looked away.

Lila frowned, scratching her head. What was that about?

She shook it off and kept to her plan. Play up the innocent act and leave them guessing until it was time to go. Whatever happened after that was their problem.

“I was so scared.” Lila whimpered. “Her expression at that time was…terrifying.”

Some more of the classmates looked sympathetic. Yet none of them approached her. Now that Lila noticed, there was a distinct space between her and the rest of the class. No one would come within five feet of her.

She hugged herself, looking the picture of wounded and helpless. “I was just lucky I was able to get away after she outted my hiding place to the mob.”

“LIAR!”

Everyone jumped to see a fuming Alya approach. A somewhat less visibly angry but still no doubt displeased Adrien was right behind her.

Both of them were focused completely on Lila.

Lila gasped, as if hurt. “What do you—”

“Can it.” Alya cut her off immediately, not even giving her a chance to spin some new lie. “You can’t be trusted, Lila. Or did you think we would forget about earlier?”

“That was a misunderstanding.” Lila explained, raising her hands in a peaceful gesture. “You weren’t here, but I had already told everyone what happened and why.”

“Oh really?” Alya asked, clearly disbelieving.

“She said that she was hit by an akuma before the attack today and only snapped out of it after Rose was akumatized.” Alix stated with a droll tone and an expression that said she didn’t believe it either.

Alya gave Lila a flat stare. “Do you actually expect us to believe that?” 

“It’s the truth.” Lila rested a hand over her heart akin to an oath before curling her fingers and drawing in on herself as if pained. “I was horrified when I woke up and realized what had happened.”

“Then where is the money?” Alya demanded. 

Lila resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Usually Alya would take her at her word, which was useful when others in turn trusted her for her reporting skills. It worked to her advantage when Alya believed her, but having those skills turned on her was a real pain.

“Hawk Moth must have taken it.” She suggested. It couldn’t be proven, of course, but it couldn’t be disproven either. And this group was particularly gullible and willing to believe the best in anyone regardless of common sense.

Except this time, apparently.

“If Hawk Moth needed money, we would be seeing akumas robbing banks, not stealing donations from teenagers for a fake charity.” Kim pointed out.

“He was probably being discreet.” Lila said hastily.

“Stealing money from a charity isn’t discreet!” Alya shouted, drawing even more attention much to Lila’s annoyance.

“Everyone already knows you lied and pocketed the money. The very least you could do is admit it.“ Adrien said, looking rather cross.

Of all the times for the doormat to actually try to stand up on his own, did it have to be now?

Lila gasped, looking hurt. Internally, she was annoyed more than anything. He was supposed to be passive. He’d never stood out like this before!

“But Adrien, you said we were friends, remember?”

It was a reminder of their “deal”. As well as a thinly veiled threat of what she would have free reign to do if that deal was broken. Not just to Marinette, but to him as well. After all, Adrien knew about Lila’s lies all along and did nothing. If he was going to out her here, she would be dragging him down with her.

“I said we were friends as long as you didn’t hurt anyone I care about!” Adrien corrected her. “And you have! You hurt Kagami. You hurt Marinette. And now you’ve hurt Rose!”

“Wait—dude! You knew?” Nino asked, looking hurt.

“I knew she was a liar.” Adrien admitted to everyone. He looked down in shame. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought…” He paused before shrugging. “Well, I thought a lot of things that were wrong.”

“Dude.” Kim muttered.

Ivan gave Adrien a stern glare. “You owe Rose. Big time.”

“Marinette, too.” Alya added, gesturing to the pig-tailed girl who had approached the group alongside Rose.

“I know.” Adrien nodded and turned to the two, even going so far as to bow lowly from the waist. “And I’ll accept any punishment if it means you will all forgive me for not speaking up sooner.”

He knew better now. The absence of overt conflict doesn’t mean that the problem is solved. He had thought he was fixing problems, but really, he was only dealing with symptoms.

Rose looked uncertain. She stared at Adrien, biting her lip. She was snapped out of her thoughts by a touch to her shoulder. Looking up in surprise, she saw Marinette and remembered that the other girl had still been beside her. Even now, she was acting as a support.

Marinette patted her on the shoulder and smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s up to you.”

Rose looked back to Adrien.

He hadn’t been the one who did it. But he knew…if not that Lila was lying, then at least that she was a liar. He knew and he didn’t say anything. Which…well, wasn’t AS bad as Lila actually lying, but still bad.

She frowned.

“I want your endorsement on the charity.”

“Done.”

“And a cake for the class as an apology.”

“Just tell me what flavor.”

“And for you to take Marinette on a date to a fancy restaurant.”

“I’ll check my sched—wait, what?” He asked, standing up straight.

Marinette covered Rose’s mouth before she could repeat herself.

“Just the first two will be fine.” She said, flushing with embarrassment. Because really Rose?

Rose, for her part, gave her an annoyed look but didn’t fight her. Nor did she attempt to keep up the demand even after Marinette released her.

“Are you sure?” He asked, holding up a hand to her as if in offering. “After everything, a nice meal would be the least I could do.”

Then he smiled.

And suddenly, Marinette’s initial willpower just took a hit.

“It’ll be my treat.” He promised.

Marinette felt herself heat up at that. He hadn’t seemed to notice the ‘date’ part of Rose’s statement, but seemed rather stuck on the idea of getting a dinner together and Marinette knew she shouldn’t, but she didn’t want to say no either…

The classmates were all grinning or sending each other knowing looks. Alya was getting her phone out to record for blackmail future wedding material. Rose was beaming excitedly. They were all glad that some good was coming out of this.

Except, of course, for Lila.

Any cheerful atmosphere or chatter immediately died at the way Lila cleared her throat. Somehow, she just seemed to draw all attention to herself. The others looked to her in question. But Marinette, who knew Lila well enough to know she was plotting something, only felt dread.

“But is that really appropriate?” Lila asked, innocently. She rubbed at her arm. “After all, you wouldn’t want Adrien to be leading on Marinette the way he did me.”

The others stared. “What?”

Marinette paled.

Oh. Oh, this was going down a bad road, she could feel it.

Adrien glared. “I never led you on, Lila.”

Lila chuckled cheerfully. “Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t intentional, of course. But taking a girl out to a fancy dinner would…well…certainly imply things. Especially if the girl in question already is enamored with you.”

He blinked.

“What?”

“She holds feelings for you.”

A moment’s pause.

“You mean…as a friend?” He asked.

…seriously? Was he not getting it?

“She is clearly crushing on you.” Lila stated flatly.

Adrien stared.

“…What?”

Lila sighed in irritation. “Why else do you think she always freaks out around you? The stammering? The nervous giggling? The weird statements that don’t fit the context?”

Marinette pulled at her pigtails in frustration. Because of course. Of-freaking-course Lila would sink this low!

Adrien blinked, then rubbed his chin. “I thought it was because of the way I kept surprising her? Like approaching her from behind. Or appearing behind her locker right as she closes it.”

Nino squinted at his friend. “Which I’ve been meaning to ask, how do you even do that?”

“Not the point.” Lila cut in before turning back to Adrien. “Seriously, Adrien, didn’t you wonder why she had all those posters of you in her room?”

“Because she’s a fan. She even told me as much.” He stated.

Lila stared as Adrien beamed at his Very Good Friend. “And it’s kind of nice knowing that a fashion designer like Marinette likes what I do. And looks up to my father.” He snapped his fingers in realization. “Hey! Maybe I could see if you can’t meet my dad sometime!”

Marinette smiled uncertainly and just…sort of nodded. “That sounds nice.”

Because really, what else could she do at this point?

Lila gaped in growing outrage.

Was…was he just going to keep ignoring her? To focus on…THAT?

“What? No! Adrien, she is crushing on you! Like…obsessively!” Lila exclaimed.

Adrien seemed to be getting annoyed with Lila’s continued interruptions, given the look he threw her. “Lila, do you really have to keep making things up?”

“I’m not making this up!”

“Yeah,” Alix said sarcastically. “Just like the charity.”

“And Marinette leaving you to the akuma.” Alya added, still clearly angry about that.

“And everything else you’ve ever said.”

Lila growled. “But this is true! And I have proof!”

With a smirk, Lila held out her phone, showing the picture she had taken earlier of the schedule inside Marinette’s room.

“See? Marinette has your schedule on her calendar!” She exclaimed.

Adrien frowned at her, disapprovingly. “Are you seriously making things up now just to make Marinette look bad?”

Marinette winced. 

He was really keeping his word and trying to support her. She knew in this moment that if she denied it, Adrien would believe her. And it may save face and protect her from any further humiliation.

As well as sticking it to Lila, which was always nice.

…But Marinette hated liars. And if there was one thing that this entire mess taught her, it was that great harm could come from lies. She didn’t want to give Lila any additional ammunition to use against her, but she knew it would only be worse if it got out later.

And she didn’t want to misuse Adrien’s trust in that way.

“Actually, I do have your schedule.” She admitted.

Adrien stopped in the middle of the lecture he was about to give Lila. He turned to her in surprise.

“What?”

“It’s just…you would mention certain activities or plans. Fencing. Tutoring. Lessons. And I would hear and add them to my calendar so I would be aware when it came to planning things.”

Silence.

Lila smirked in victory. So the goody-two shoes had a fault and was actually admitting to it for the entire class to see. Even Adrien’s protective best friend must be up in arms as he took Lila’s phone with the picture of the schedule to look it over.

Adrien, for his part, blinked as he registered the information.

“So you’ve kept track of all the events and scheduling I’ve told you about to add to your calendar?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

A longer pause. Marinette mentally kicked herself. Why hadn’t she just stayed home and avoided this mess?

Then he smiled. “That was nice of you.”

“What?” Marinette asked, stunned.

“What.” Lila less asked than stated. Shrieking even in her disbelief.

“Well, friends keep friends on their schedules.” Adrien said, nodding resolutely.

Lila stared, her eye twitching slightly.

But he paid her no mind, keeping his gaze on his very good friend.

"Can I see it?" He asked her.

Marinette blinked. "What?"

He was actually looking eager now. “That way I can fill in any gaps so we can choose better times to hang out!”

She flushed. This was not the direction she had expected this to go. And from Lila’s disgusted expression, neither had she.

Far be it from her to argue. Especially against Adrien’s hopeful puppy eyes.

"Okay."

“Great! I’ll come by your house later! Maybe we can play Mecha Strike while we’re at it.” He said with a smile that—gah, too bright! It would probably blind her if it didn’t make her heart explode.

Marinette blushed.

“Okay?” She agreed because really, what else could she do at this point?

"WHAT?!" Lila raged, her skin starting to turn red. "Why would you want to help her keep your schedule?! Isn't that creepy?!"

He turned to Lila at that with a frown. “But...she's my friend. I'm on her Personal Calendar with all the people she considers friends!" And she’d done this even before their talk today, so that meant she really did like him, right?

Lila rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Adrien! Who actually does that?"

Adrien shrugged. "Nino does."

A pause. Slowly, all eyes turned to Nino.

The cap-wearing teen realized the sudden attention he'd got and jumped back, waving his hands.

"Well, how else were we supposed to have hangouts with that schedule of his?" He defended before turning his attention to Marinette. “You’re missing his Chinese lessons by the way.”

Marinette turned to him in surprise. “What?”

“Yeah, also he has a photoshoot this weekend and in the middle of next week. And I see my schedule on there, too, but you don’t have my gig Friday.”

“Wait—you’re on her schedule, too?” Ivan asked, surprised.

“All of her friends are.” Nino confirmed.

Kim raised his hand. “Am I on there?”

“All of her friends are.” Nino repeated, and looked down at the picture of the calendar. “She has your swim meet for next Tuesday. And a plan to bring some of those tarts you like.”

“Sweet!” Kim exclaimed, giving a fist pump.

Nino nodded to Marinette before handing the phone back to Lila. “Plus Alya and I are having a date Sunday, not Saturday, so we won't need you to babysit. Might want to add that.” 

Marinette blinked as she just…tried to register everything.

“Oh. Okay.”

Apparently, that was becoming her default word as she was still trying to process how any of this was happening.

Alya stared at her boyfriend.

“So wait, you have Adrien’s schedule, too?”

“Of course, I do! Hangouts are difficult enough, but we also need to know what times we can video chat.” Nino shrugged. “How else do you think I knew when his dad was leaving? And how to get past his bodyguard?”

Lila gaped. She couldn’t believe this!

Even the other classmates seemed unbothered. Did they really have no concept of boundaries?

…of course they didn’t. They were teenagers.

The fact that Lila herself had commonly infringed on Adrien’s boundaries in a physical way on a daily basis and most recently violated Marinette’s boundaries specifically to find this information to use against her in the first place seemed entirely lost on her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? How are you okay with this? Are you seriously that stupid?” Lila demanded.

Adrien frowned at Lila, stepping in front of his friends. “Marinette and everyone else here are my friends. Of course, I care about them and would want them to know when I’m available—”

“You can’t possibly be that blind! MARINETTE. HAS. A. CRUSH. ON. YOU. She is so hopelessly in love with you that it’s pathetic!”

“Don’t talk about her like—”

“She has birthday and holiday gifts for you for YEARS!” Lila shouted. “HOW IS THAT NOT WEIRD?!”

The classmates blinked or jumped in surprise before all eyes turned to Marinette.

Why? Why was she Lila’s go-to target?

“I was just…I mean…” She stammered, looking down in shame and embarrassment.

The classmates seemed to be waiting for an answer. It seemed they were at least trying to give her the benefit of the doubt since it was LILA making the accusation, after all, and it was clear by this point that she was simply throwing out anything to make her look bad.

Hesitant, she looked up to see Adrien’s reaction.

And Adrien…oh god, he actually had tears in his eyes!

“Really? Is it true?”

Marinette jumped to try and explain.

“I—um—well—you see—”

His eyes widened. “I can’t believe it...”

“No wait! It’s not—”

Okay, yeah, she was a mess and had nothing.

“You felt so bad about missing my birthday that you’ve been making gifts for me ahead of time so you won’t miss it again!” He exclaimed, looking excited.

Which was okay, apparently, because Adrien had apparently drawn his own conclusions. As evidenced when he pulled her into a hug.

“You didn’t have to do all that, Marinette.” He said, giving her a squeeze. “I don’t hold it against you that you forgot my birthday. You didn’t know.”

A part of Marinette was screaming. Because oh, the irony. If only he knew…

Alya…out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Alya also looked like she desperately wanted to say something. Probably the truth about his scarf. Which now was a bad time to reveal.

“You have no reason to feel guilty for not getting me anything.” He told her, releasing her with a smile and patting her shoulders. “But I appreciate that you felt so strongly about it that you would try to get such a head start to make up for it. It means a lot that you care so much about me.”

Marinette…yeah, Marinette.exe has shut down.

“But that’s not...” Mylene started, only to pause for several seconds before frowning with a small wince. “Actually yeah, that does sound exactly like something Marinette would do.”

“Remember how she got Alya an interview with Ladybug after she accidentally deleted that video?” Kim chimed in.

Nino slapped his forehead. “Oh yeah! Alya went on and on about that for weeks!”

Alya—even Alya, her best friend, who knew full well about her crush and the gifts actually looked uncertain at the news. She bit her lip, looking back and forth between Adrien and Marinette in confusion and concern.

Because she remembered that Adrien’s father had somehow wound up with credit for Marinette’s gift to Adrien. She also remembered how Chloe had broken into Marinette’s locker and vandalized her gift to Bustier. Then there was the time Marinette made Adrien that hat but didn’t take credit for that either.

Marinette…just seemed to have bad luck when it came to giving people things, apparently.

So was it really any wonder that the girl would become that anxious over gift-giving? Or that Marinette, being Marinette, had gone so far as to prepare a multitude of gifts as backups in case something like her gift being stolen, lost, or vandalized happened again?

Alya...honestly didn’t know anymore. Maybe that was something she should try to help with more in the future.

Adrien for his part was simply basking in the glow of happiness that came with knowing how much his good friend Marinette cared about him. Nobody had the heart to argue with him. Nor did any of them even have an argument to make.

“Are you kidding? No one keeps that many gifts for one person in their closet! Can you possibly be that stupid?”

Except Lila, but after everything that had happened, no one was really feeling inclined to humor her.

“Since you’re bringing that up though, here’s a better question.” Alix cut in, giving Lila a glare. “How do you even know any of this?”

Lila drew back in surprise as she suddenly found herself the subject of glares from the rest of her classmates.

“I somehow doubt Marinette invited you into her room.” Alix continued.

“Her parents did!” Lila quickly explained, absently scratching at her wrist. “They invited me inside since the mob was after me.”

Okay, yeah no. Marinette’s brain had rebooted at that. There was no way she was going to let Lila implicate her parents.

“I already talked to my parents about what happened after I saw you wearing my clothes. They invited you into the bakery.” Marinette corrected angrily. “They did not invite you into my room.”

“It was an accident.” Lila claimed. “I had gotten lost, but once I realized where I was and what I was seeing, I just had to warn everyone—”

“‘What you were seeing’,” Marinette cut her off coldly, “should not have been seen unless you had been looking for them. I kept those gifts in my closet. The schedule was put away. The pictures were not visible from my trap door—which you should have realized right away would NOT lead you to any exit.”

Lila scratched at her neck. “Well, I hardly know anything about you since you keep me at arm’s length. Can you blame me for being a little curious?”

“YES.” Came the resounding echo from…well…nearly everyone. It was clear that nobody was buying anything Lila was trying to sell.

“You don’t try to ‘learn about someone’ by breaking into their room, recording what you find there, and sharing it with people!” Mylene ranted.

“It sounds like you’re trying to make Marinette look bad to distract us from your own actions.” Ivan said with a glare. “Because none this changes what you did.”

“You lied to us about the charity and EVERYTHING else you’ve ever said!” Alya exclaimed.

“Did you make up all those illnesses, too?” Kim asked, disappointed and disapproval evident in his voice.

“I bet you were the one who nearly caused Marinette to get expelled.” Alix hissed, leading more growls and angry muttering from the audience.

“No, I haven’t! It was just a misunderstanding!” Lila insisted.

“Was it?” Came a voice.

Everyone immediately silenced and all eyes turned to one person.

Rose stood tall. Or at least as tall as she could in such a situation. In truth, she was shaking. Her lip was trembling like she was trying not to cry. And she stared straight at Lila, almost as if she was gazing into her soul.

If it was anyone else, Lila might have been concerned.

But it was Rose. Poor simple Rose who always believed in everyone and would listen to anything she said without question.

It’d be easy enough to get back in her good graces.

And all it would take…

Lila sniffled, lowering her head. “I’m sorry.”

Everyone stared.

Marinette wanted to bang her head against something.

Lila rubbed at her eyes to give the illusion of tears. She even managed a couple of hiccups. “You were just all…all so amazing and I was scared about fitting in. I did embellish some things but I…I just wanted you all to like me.” She covered her face, effectively hiding her eyes.

“Things just spiraled out of control and before I knew it, I was trapped! I couldn’t be honest and I was so scared of what you all would think of me!” She sobbed out. 

Disregarding, of course, the fact that she had just tried to throw Marinette under the bus—and not for the first time.

Lila looked up at the group, eyes watery though no actual tears have been shed. “I never meant to hurt anyone.” She whimpered. “I just admired you all so much! I’m so sorry!”

They hesitated. Of course they did. They were easily played by emotional appeals. All she’d ever had to do was fake pain or sadness and they would fall over themselves in response before any true logic or reason could set in.

And of course, Rose of all people stepped forward.

The small blonde rested a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes, with what had to be some form of reassurance on her lips.

Leave it to Rose to forgive any transgressions and be willing to start anew. She was always the first to offer reassurances. The first to believe in someone. The first to support a good cause. If anyone would understand and show sympathy, it would be her.

“I don’t believe you.”

That…was not it.

Rose stepped back from Lila, her nose scrunched in disgust. She backed away a good couple of feet. She even wiped her hands on her dress—or attempted to, until Mylene handed her some hand wipes. As if touching Lila had been filthy to her.

“Is even touching me that bad?” Lila asked, acting pitiful.

A long pause. Several of the classmates glanced between each other. They all seemed to want to say something, but couldn’t seem to bring themselves to.

“You stink.”

Except for Juleka, who was glaring at Lila.

Lila gaped.

“What?”

Did…she mean that literally or was she just being juvenile?

Kim actually pinched his nose. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to say anything, but you kind of reek.”

Lila clenched her fists, her anger growing and her skin starting to turn red. “How dare you?!”

"Like...you stink...and you stink. Figuratively and physically." Kim said, sounding nasally with his nose plugged.

“Kind of smells wet and musty.” Nino muttered.

“I was thinking it smelled more like a dumpster.” Mylene noted.

“It’s probably her soul.” Alix muttered, shooting Lila a dark glare.

Marinette gasped and spun on Lila. “Wait! Lila, didn’t you jump in the Seine earlier?”

Lila flushed, embarrassed at the reminder and the realization that her shower earlier had only done the bare minimum for her hair. “It wasn’t by choice!”

The other teens gave Lila disgusted looks.

“You…do know the Seine isn’t the cleanest, right?” Ivan asked.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Lila exclaimed. “It was that damn Ladybug who splashed me with water!”

Several of the classmates bristled at that and the insult to their city’s hero.

“She was putting the pyre out.” Alya countered, looking up the video on her phone. “Otherwise you would have been burned. And then you would have died. And none of this would even be up for discussion right now.”

“Really, you could show a little more appreciation for Ladybug rescuing you.” Adrien said, narrowing his eyes at Lila. “Even if she wasn’t your best friend.”

He knew she wasn’t. He had been there when Ladybug herself had confronted Lila on her lies, so of course he knew that they weren’t friends. Not that anyone else did. But the reminder of that particular lie and Ladybug’s recent threat brought out a level of fear within her that she hadn’t experienced before.

She could almost swear that she felt Ladybug’s gaze on her.

Lila silently fumed momentarily but forced herself to calm and steady her nerves.

Remember, she was still the one in control here. Not the school. Not these classmates. And certainly not Ladybug!

She closed her eyes and let out a breath.

Oh well. She gave it a try and it didn’t work. An annoyance, but ultimately, no real loss. She was still leaving. And they had nothing they could pin on her.

Rose was the one who collected the money. The school and teachers were the ones who hadn’t verified her paperwork. Gabriel had been the one to hire her to spy on his own son. Hawk Moth had been the one to use her. And Ladybug had been the one who didn’t protect her.

Really, wasn’t it their own fault?

“If that’s how you all feel, then I’ll just leave.” Lila said, looking away in a manner she was sure looked dejected. Such a look would normally lead people to feel some pity for her and some remorse for anything they had done.

Here though, it just made her look petulant.

None of the classmates were impressed. Several looked ready to argue. Maybe to even try to brave the stench around her and force her to stay and admit to her acts.

Except…

“The one thing I don’t understand though is why did you keep doing it? Why all the lies?” Rose asked.

“Yeah,” Alya agreed. “Looking back, your lies were all over the place and didn’t amount to much. Not until the fake charity scam, anyway, and you were bound to get caught. What was even the point of it all?”

What was the point? Was she serious? It was everything.

Lila rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Like any of you would have really cared about me if you hadn’t thought I had something you could use.”

They all just stared at her incredulously.

“Um…but we would have.”

Lila paused, blinking in confusion.

“What?”

Rose brought her hands up. “We would have liked you regardless, Lila! You didn’t have to lie!”

“And even if you do lie,” Mylene continued, “we still could have forgiven it and liked you anyway.”

“We may not have been happy about being lied to, but we could have understood. Maybe even helped.” Ivan stated, rubbing his head.

Marinette stepped forward. “I told you before Lila. We could be friends when you stopped lying.”

Lila stared at her. Was she serious?

That was…

Lila gaped at them all in disbelief. None of them argued. Many even nodded their heads in agreement.

She couldn’t believe it…

That was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard!

Who actually forgives people for things like that? Even little acts that seemed weird were often enough to turn people off. Even good qualities like leadership, prioritizing, and professionalism could be twisted and used against the person. This was supposed to be a world where any flaw should be enough to ruin someone and warrant raking them over the coals!

And these idiots were just…fine with it?

Honestly, it was no wonder she was able to get away with so much! These idiots were practically begging to be manipulated!

Lila forced tears to her eyes. “You would be willing to forgive me? Just like that?”

“Well, not now, no.” Adrien said, finally speaking up.

Lila stared. Because…this was Adrien. Adrien Agreste who was Paris’s Sunshine Child and seemingly incapable of holding a grudge. Or standing up for himself.

And…he was going to refuse to forgive her?

“I figured your initial claims about knowing famous celebrities was just to make people like you. We could have forgiven you for that.”

His eyes narrowed.

“But then you used your lies to hurt people. And in ways you had to go well out of the way to do.”

“What?! No, I didn’t—”

But he cut her off.

“You tried to get Marinette expelled. You stole from all of us and made Rose’s charity work into a criminal act. And while we’re at it…” He drawled, making Lila nervous. “Maybe we can discuss how you’ve been spying on me for my father?”

Lila tensed briefly before putting on a wounded expression.

“That was just the akuma making things up!”

“Yeah, I spoke with my father about that.” Adrien continued, sounding…particularly cold. “Oh, and by the way, you’re fired.”

“Fired?” Lila balked. She clenched her fists and her shoulders raised in growing ire. “What do you mean ‘fired’?!”

Adrien steepled his fingers together as if he was trying to think. “Um, how else can I say it? You’re being let go. Your department’s being downsized. You’re part of an outplacement. We’re going in a different direction. We’re not picking up your option. Take your pick. I’ve got more.”

She grit her teeth.

She’d known from her call with Nathalie earlier that they were firing her. Part of her had believed that it was simply due to Witch Hunter’s control. But if that was the case, they shouldn’t remember it now. Though it could be that they remember the initial claim from Witch Hunter that brought them under her influence, but even then, there wouldn’t be any proof.

No…this had to be intentional. Given her suspicions of Gabriel, she had considered that he would cut ties, but to do it like this? Through Adrien? In front of everyone?

Oh. She was going to make him pay.

Outside of Lila’s thoughts of revenge and misery, the classmates realized something about Adrien’s totally cool and not at all corny or referenced speech.

Kim stared. “Dude…did you really just…”

Nino held up a hand. “Let him have this.” He wiped away a fake tear. “I’m so proud.”

Muffled chuckling from others indicated that they all knew what he had been referencing.

Except for Marinette, who was looking around in confusion. Because sure, Adrien was being cool just then and it was kind of funny to see Lila get some comeuppance, but what was all the snickering for? “Wait…what was that about?”

Adrien spun on her in shock. “Wait—you’ve never seen Emperor’s New Groove?”

Marinette blinked, uncertain. “Um…no?”

He took her hands in his, looking so serious that this had to be a matter of grave importance. “We must rectify this immediately. Will you come watch the movie with me? Father is being unusually lenient about things to make up for everything with Lila that he’ll probably allow a hangout this weekend.” He smiled. “So would you like to binge watch movies together?”

Oh. Oh, Marinette thought she was over this. But clearly not as she felt her face flush and her heart leap into her throat. Her brain was short circuiting because this was…this was a date with Adrien? ANOTHER date with Adrien? THREE dates with Adrien? That she hadn’t even had to be the one to ask him for? Just what is life right now? Was this life? Was this a dream? Lila finally outted as a liar and Adrien agreeing to spend time with her…this felt like a dream.

At best, she was only able to nod. And Adrien’s smile in response was near blinding. She didn’t even notice the way their classmates grinned or gave each other high fives.

…or the way Lila was turning red in her growing ire. 

Lila scratched angrily at her neck. Hard enough to leave marks.

Not only did he fire her, but now he was ignoring her and just flirting right in front of her?! It was bad enough she was revealed and chased around for the past few hours thanks to an akuma. Then betrayed by Hawk Moth. And then threatened by Ladybug. But this…this was just adding insult to injury by this point!

She wanted to say something—anything to break up this delightful little scene and wipe that happy look off their faces.

Sometimes, spite overcame reason.

“Oh please!” She shouted, drawing everyone’s gazes away from the cute scene and back to Lila where she was pointing at Adrien in anger. “The only reason he’s firing me is because I know he’s Hawk Moth!”

A long pause.

Alya looked at Adrien before turning back to Lila, eyebrow raised. “You mean Adrien?”

The blond in question paled and drew in on himself. It wasn’t true, but what if she brought up some ‘evidence’ like his tendency to disappear during akuma fights? Would anyone else believe her? Especially given how he’d messed up before and inadvertently helped Lila to create prime akuma material?

“Adrien isn’t Hawk Moth!” Marinette insisted, looking angry, and Adrien felt a combination of relief and admiration for the girl.

“Yeah!” Nino agreed, wrapping an arm around Adrien’s shoulders and holding out the other hand in front of them like he was trying to ward off Lila or perhaps her stench. “Don’t be talking about my boy like that!”

“Wow.” Kim muttered. “You’ve told some bad lies before but that takes the cake.”

“Shame on you, Lila!”

Lila reared back in shock at the direction this went. “What?! NO! I meant Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth!”

But people were just…rolling their eyes and looking away from her.

She held her hand to her chest in earnesty. Her other hand went to scratching her side, which kind of spoiled the effect. “He knows I’m a threat and he’s trying to discredit me!”

A long pause.

“You’ve already discredited yourself, Lila.”

“Yeah, it sounds like you’e just saying anything at this point.”

“She’s just mad that Mr. Agreste is letting her go.”

“After everything she did, I don’t blame him.”

“The guy os a jerk, but come on. Hawk Moth? Really?”

No one was even considering what she had to say now. If it wasn’t clear before, it was now.

Lila had lost any credibility.

Several of the classmates were gathered around Adrien, trying to support and comfort him over the accusations. She had a feeling that even if she had irrefutable evidence, they still wouldn’t believe it. Not now, anyway. It grated at her, but at this point, there was nothing she could do.

There was nothing she could do and she had just wasted her last trump card to no effect. And if it got back to Gabriel that she had accused him…

All the better to get out now then.

“Hey, wait!” Alix shouted as she noticed Lila trying to sneak away. “We’re not done here!”

Honestly, it was perfect timing that the teacher arrived to start class.

“All right, class! To your seats!” Bustier said, smiling nicely in her usual fashion.

And it looked like that would be the end of it. With Bustier back, there would be no further pressing of Lila. No retribution. No way to hold her accountable.

Alya for her part tried though. She raised her hand and called out insistently. “Wait! Ms. Bustier! Lila has been—”

Bustier shook her head. “I’m sorry, Alya, but it will have to wait. We’ve missed part of the school day as it is.” She paused and turned to Lila. “Oh, Lila! Your mother and the Principal are waiting for you in his office.”

Lila smiled politely. “Thank you. I’ll head right there.”

This was it then. A final meeting and she would be out of this school and out of Paris.

…though maybe after she takes a more thorough shower first, she thought to herself as she scratched at her neck.

Still, she couldn’t help but send one last smirk back at her now former classmates as she walked away. She hadn’t managed to pull them back under her sway, and she couldn’t say she had won.

But she could at least find some satisfaction in the growls and shouts of anger as she left them behind.

__________________

In the Principal’s office, the adults had a…rather interesting conversation of their own once Lila had departed.

“Good heavens! I didn’t know how much longer I could stand that smell.” Principal Damocles asked as he opened a window to try and freshen the air.

Amara Rossi took her seat in front of the desk, feeling a bit lightheaded herself. “Did something happen today? Science class? Chemicals, perhaps?”

“It could have been an akuma attack. We had one just earlier.” He replied.

Her eyes darkened. She was reminded of the constant prolonged akuma attacks that disrupt daily living and the inept superheroes who allowed them to persist. “I see. That will be one thing we will no longer have to worry about once we leave, at least.”

“Quite right.” He agreed kindly as he went to his files to pull out Lila’s paperwork. “I do hope that Lila’s new school will be better suited to accommodate all of her illnesses.”

Amara shook her head, uncertain of what she just heard. “I beg your pardon?”

“Of course we did try to adjust to Lila’s needs as we were made aware of them. Especially with her little…fibbing illness. But it was difficult without official documentation to clarify what she had and the best ways to address them. And we were never able to get clarification during her stay here.” He rested the paperwork on his desk and looked up to make eye contact with Mrs. Rossi. “We of course are not judging, but it would be prudent for you to make the appropriate arrangements prior to her arrival at her new school, wherever it may be.” He puffed up in pride. “And of course we will be more than happy to assist in sending over documentation as well—”

“No wait. Hold on.” Amara interrupted him. “What needs are you talking about?”

Needless to say, once Lila was out of the room, it didn’t take long for them to notice things weren’t adding up. And the conversation that followed ended up being…

“What tinnitus?”

Quite informative.

“What fall down the stairs?!”

With certain parties being made aware of things they hadn’t known previously.

“WHAT LYING DISEASE?!!”

By the end of it, both adults were in shock.

Damocles wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, clearly…unnerved to say the least. “I…erm…take it that some of these things might have been said…er…erroneously?”

Amara covered her face with her left hand, exasperated. “Unless my daughter has been under an akuma’s influence for the past several months the school has been closed.”

He frowned at that, unnerved. “On that note, I’ve been trying to reach out to you for some time about your daughter’s absences. Have you not gotten my calls?”

“I only received one or two. And Lila warned me not to answer because you were akumatized.” She paused in thought for a moment before lowering her hand and looking to the Principal. “Has the school been closed at all? Lila said you had been akumatized and that the school had been shut down, which was why she had to stay home for so long.”

Damocles blanched at that. “It was only the once! Well…twice actually, with the attempted mass akumatization during that one incident. But I assure you, madam, that the school was never closed. Certainly not for more than a day at any rate!”

She frowned, unsure. “But…the heroes…”

“Are quite adept at their job for youngsters!” Damocles hurriedly told her. “Akuma battles are normally finished within a couple of hours. Some have lasted overnight at most. There is only one to my knowledge that continued for a few days, but that was a rare exception and the damage was minimal.” Though the harm to Chloe’s mental state couldn’t be quantified.

“Oh…” She murmured. Wow. While Lila’s complaints had dampened her view of the city’s heroes, she had known her coworkers and the city at large seemed to admire them greatly. She regretted that she had never really listened to their gossip about them, but she was grateful she had never spoken up on what she had believed. Otherwise she would likely be a laughing stock at work.

He shook his head. “But no akuma has lasted for months, I assure you! In fact,” He said, reaching to his monitor and turning it so that they both could see the screen, “the Ladyblog should have all the facts about the akumas and our heroes!”

Amara observed the blog, curious. It was well made. Perhaps they could get the designer to help update the embassy site.

But on point, the blog listed news reports and updates. Hero sightings. Events. Akuma attacks. And in particular, the most recent attack…

“Wait!” She gasped. “Is that Lila?!”

From there, it had been a simple matter of reviewing the footage from the latest akuma attack.

Including the incident where Lila had shoved an innocent girl to the ground in front of the mob. (“That would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. A bright student and the Class Representative. But…er…she and Lila haven’t quite seen eye to eye and there was an…incident a few weeks ago…”)

As well as a compiled list that had been taken of every claim made by the akuma—Witch Hunter? She was apparently a classmate of Lila’s. And according to the Ladyblog, she had been a victim of Lila’s lies, which had resulted in her akumatization and targeting of Lila. (“My word!”)

And worst of all, a video of Lila tied to a pyre and surrounded by a mob of people wanting her to burn. In and of itself, it was horrifying. Especially for any parent to see their child in such a state.

But for Lila…it was like she didn’t think it was real. Like she didn’t think she was in any actual danger. Or she thought this was a game.

And that, Amara found most terrifying.

“This is…” She muttered in shock. She couldn’t even begin to describe it. Her daughter, tied to a pole. About to be lit on fire. All because she had been lying this entire time? Not just lying, but stealing from her peers? Framing people? And she didn’t dare say it, but from some of her statements in the video and the akuma’s claims, it almost looked as if she had been working with a known terrorist!

She had known her daughter wasn’t perfect or innocent. But this much? To go this far? And for what? She couldn’t even begin to understand…

“Madam, I…think this is a most serious matter.” Damocles stated. He was trying to be delicate but…well, really. How can one approach this sort of thing delicately?

“I agree.” She stated, resolutely. “Lila has been playing everyone it seems. But now that we know, what should we do from here?”

Damocles stroked his beard as he thought. “I admit we have never had a situation this extreme before. But if you will permit, I believe there may be a way to approach this…”

The rest of their time was spent discussing the matter at length and coming to an agreement. Damocles admittedly had his failings, particularly when it came to stubborn and selfish students with access to parents in positions of authority and willingness to abuse that authority to get their way. But when he wasn’t having to work around such barriers and had parents who were actually working with him instead of obstructing the school regulations, it was substantially easier to make appropriate accommodations and plan accordingly.

Which is what Lila ended up walking in to once she was asked to return to the office.

“Is everything settled?” She asked sweetly, her expression belying her earlier anger. Honestly, her only concern was finishing this as quickly as possible and going home to shower. A good three or four times.

She forced herself to ignore the way the adults in the room turned their heads away from her with upturned noses. She took advantage of the moment and attempted to unobtrusively scratch under her arm. Honestly, this itching was only getting worse! How had she not noticed it earlier?

“Well, Lila.” Damocles coughed as he turned on a fan. “Your mother and I have been discussing things and we couldn’t help but notice a few discrepancies.”

Lila froze. She steeled her expression to hide her rising panic. Because no. Not here. Not after everything.

“Lila…” Her mother called, her tone harsh and warning of her slowly boiling anger. “You told me that the school had been closed. And here I come to find that not only had it still been open and running all this time, but that you had been excusing your absences with claims of trips around the world!”

Shit.

Why had she left them alone?!

“But there were akuma attacks!” She insisted. “And the school was closed!”

“Not for weeks at a time!” Her mother exclaimed, furious. “And what is all this I’m hearing about your actions since you got here? Lying to your teachers? Stealing from a charity? Getting another student expelled?!”

Here, Lila straightened. “She had been bullying me and I had only been trying to protect myself.”

“Then why did you claim a lying disease to have her brought back?” Damocles questioned.

Lila hugged herself to look sad and sympathetic—and also used the opportunity to scratch at her side again. “I was threatened.” She admitted morosely. “Adrien said—”

“Adrien? Adrien Agreste?” Her mother interrupted. “You mean the boy you said was your boyfriend?”

Lila hesitated for a moment before a plan came together and she nodded. “Yes. It was why I wanted us to leave Paris. He’s been harassing me, Mama.” She shuddered and hitched her breath as if in fear. “He threatened me if I didn’t take back the allegations. He’s been cheating on me with her, Mama!”

“Interesting. Very interesting.” Her mother said in a blithe manner that only made Lila more nervous. “Because according to this Ladyblog, it sounds like  you were the one harassing him. As well as this Marinette girl, regardless of whether she is his girlfriend or not.”

Lila snapped up and gaped at her mother. The woman never bothered with the Ladyblog. Lila had been sure she hadn’t known it even existed!

“You can’t trust the Ladyblog! It’s just a teenager’s fan site! It’s nothing but lies!”

Her mother glared down at her. “Like this informative interview of you claiming to be Ladybug’s ‘bestie’?”

Lila paled.

“I was only trying to get people to like me and make friends.” She said, lowering her head in shame. Not that she had any, of course, but it paid to look the part at least. “I didn’t think anyone would see it.”

“Lila, the Ladyblog is extremely popular. It’s a central news source for anyone in Paris to know what the most recent update is regarding any akuma attack! Anyone would have seen it!” Damocles exclaimed.

“Even if it wasn’t,” Her mother continued. “You still shouldn’t have been claiming things like that! What if Hawk Moth saw it and thought it was true? What if he tried to kidnap or hurt you?”

She wasn’t worried about that. He wouldn’t have harmed her since she was working for him.

Well, Lila realized with a small wince. Not anymore.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” Lila said, looking away.

“Getting back on point.” Damocles interrupted. “There is the problem regarding all of the days you’ve missed. Your teacher was led to believe that you were out of town while you had informed your mother that the school was closed. This is a serious matter, young lady.”

There was no way to lie that she hadn’t done it now that both of them were aware and on to her. But she could still try to reframe things in her favor.

“I’m sorry. I had just needed a break for a while and I didn’t know how to tell you.” Lila spoke, tearfully. “It was just…all of the akuma attacks and everything with Adrien and the bullying…it was too much!”

She sobbed into her hands.

“I just couldn’t take it! I’m sorry!”

She continued her sobs for a good minute. Since she had her face covered and her head lowered, she couldn’t quite see how the adults in the room were responding. Sneaking a peak got her a glimpse at best lest she risk them seeing her.

Her mother looked drawn. The Principal seemed tired. Neither of them so much as tried to get closer to Lila to comfort her. Though that may very well have been due to the smell, and she cursed Witch Hunter and Ladybug both for causing the situation in the first place and for not fixing this with the Magical Cure as well.

Really, she thought hatefully. This was all their fault. Rose’s. The class’s. Hawk Moth’s. And especially Ladybug’s. She never would have ended up in this position if not for her!

“I’m sorry, Lila. If you were truly having such trouble, then you should have spoken to one of us about it and we may have been able to help you.” Damocles sighed. “I’m afraid there’s nothing else for it now. It’s already gone much too far for us to be able to overlook.”

Amara nodded, resigned. “I understand.”

Lila sniffled and raised her head.

“So I guess I’ll be expelled?” She asked with a mournful tone.

Okay. All right. So she would be sent to another school somewhere. A boarding school perhaps? Some sort of alternative or otherwise stricter school meant to “rehabilitate“ her, no doubt. She could handle this. It was still someplace new where no one would recognize her. It wouldn’t take too much before she could just start over. Within two months, no one there would even really know why she had transferred.

She could still make this work for her.

Damocles, however, looked at her in surprise.

“Expel you? What are you talking about? We don’t expel students for truancy.”

Lila froze.

“What?”

“You will be suspended for a time.” He continued. “Though I believe given the nature of your actions, it would be better for your suspension to be altered so you remain on campus and under constant supervision.”

Lila stared. She would swear she could hear cracks forming in her reality.

“And we will have to keep you in a separate classroom as well to remove any...distractions.”

Crack.

“Of course.“ her mother agreed. “I’ll be removing her computer and phone for the time being as well. Depending on how things go, we may have to dispose of them altogether.”

Lila felt her eye starting to twitch.

“This will be an opportunity for you to catch up on all the coursework you missed.”

Crack.

“And there will be a hearing as well.” Damocles continued. 

Lila jumped to her feet and slammed her hand on the desk.

“But—but you expelled Marinette immediately without a hearing!”

Damocles appeared flustered at that. “My actions at that time were…admittedly hasty, especially considering that it turned out they were based on a lie...” He gave her a sharp look at that. “But given what appeared to be dangerous and escalating behavior at the time, I had only acted in a way to protect the other students in this institution.”

He clasped his hands. “But less school is not the appropriate answer for a student whose crime was skipping school. Especially in this case given that Lila may very well need to be held back a grade as it is.”

“What?!” Lila demanded.

He gave her a dry look, unimpressed with her reaction or the repeated interruptions. “Young lady, regardless of your reasons, you’ve missed months of your precious education. Surely you didn’t think you would be able to graduate alongside your classmates. At this point, you won’t be able to get the approval from the conseil de classe to move on to the next grade, much less be prepared for the brevet.”

Lila blinked. “The what?”

Her mother groaned and covered her face. “It’s the mandated test required in secondary school into get your diploma, Lila.”

Lila gaped, glancing back and forth between the two, as if expecting this to be a joke. “But…college in France is just scuola media! It’s middle school! How do they require a diploma?!”

“It’s a national requirement and certification of the knowledge and skills acquired.” Damocles explained, ignoring the way mother and daughter were reacting as he instead puffed out his chest and straightened his jacket. “And we here at Francois-Dupont are dedicated to our students and making the appropriate accommodations to help them succeed! Regardless of any…”

He paused, sending Lila a look. “Complications.”

Amara sighed but faced Damocles. “So what would you recommend?”

He brightened at that. “The best answer to get young Lila back on track would be an alternative remedial program in which she can remain in school and make up for what she missed in a setting where she can be more closely monitored to keep something like this from happening again.”

Remain here? In Dupont? With everyone aware of her lies?

“You can’t do this!” Lila shouted. But to no avail as the adults paid her no mind at this point.

“What about the fraud?” Her mother asked. “I believe she had solicited funds under false pretenses?”

“Oh, that is outside our jurisdiction.” Damocles answered, waving it off. “We can only deal in school and school-related matters. Fraud is a legal issue, so that will be going to the courts as a separate case. But on that note, I would recommend getting a lawyer.” He said, turning serious.

“Hopefully, that won’t be necessary.” Amara replied. “As we will be making arrangements with the students who started the charity and reimburse the funds Lila took.”

“WHAT?!”

“Returning everything you bought with the money to the stores you purchased them from should be a good place to start,” the woman continued, “assuming they will even accept the exchange once they know what you did. Which you will be telling them if they didn’t already know from that akuma.”

“But…but I don’t have them!” Lila exclaimed, suddenly realizing that she had worn Marinette’s clothes back home and left her designer items at the bakery.

“Then you will just have to find some other way to make up the lost funds.” Her mother stated, dismissively.

Lila stomped her foot, the picture of a child throwing a tantrum. “But that’s not fair!” 

“You stole money from your classmates, Lila!” Her mother bit out sharply. “Giving back what you took is the very least you could do!”

“But I can’t pay it!” Lila yelled, scratching at her chin in fury.

“Then you can use your now copious amount of free time to take on some extra employment. Because you won’t be sitting around at home doing nothing or getting into more trouble while I’m not there. And you certainly won’t be going out with your friends—assuming you have any left after this mess.”

“But…where am I supposed to find employment?!”

Her mother looked through her tablet and pulled up a number of listings when she then handed to Damocles to print off. “There are always openings for extra hands. Odd jobs. A part time job. I don’t care if it’s something like washing dishes at a diner, you will be doing it. And whatever you earn is going to go to straight into the bank until you pay back every euro you took.”

Lila gasped. “I’m fourteen! That’s child labor!”

“That didn’t seem to be an issue when you were modeling for the Gabriel line without telling me.” Her mother countered, growing more furious.

Lila glared back, enraged and for once incapable of speech.

“Whatever you have to say, this is your own fault for stealing the money in the first place. And also using it when you knew it wasn’t yours!” The woman shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t even understand how you thought that was supposed to work.”

“We were supposed to be out of Paris already!” Lila muttered darkly.

Unfortunately for her, her mother heard her well enough. “Which I suspect was the real reason you suddenly wanted to leave, wasn’t it?”

Lila stayed silent. Merely sitting petulantly and scratching at her arm.

Her mother looked down at her daughter. She had never seen her like this before. And now that she knew what the girl had been up to, she wondered if she had been blind to the truth. And for how long.

She sighed.

“You dug yourself into this, Lila. And you won’t be running away from it. You are going to pay back what you took, no matter how long it takes. If this does end up going to court, you are going to agree to any deal they offer and you will make this right. And if you are very very lucky, they will accept your apology and your return of the money, and not pursue harsher charges. Because if they do, you will be accepting those charges and any consequences that come with them.”

Damocles coughed, daring to interrupt. “Am I to presume she will be losing her cellphone and laptop as well?”

“That would be a given.” Her mother replied. “Though at the rate this is going, I may very well sell those off as well to contribute to her debt.”

“What?!” Lila screeched. “But how am I supposed to do schoolwork then? Or keep in contact?”

“With pen and paper like everyone else. And you won’t need to worry about contacting anyone since you are going to be grounded for the foreseeable future.”

Lila groaned and sunk further into the office chair. She tried to keep her arms crossed, but couldn’t hold it for longer than a couple seconds before she felt the itchiness again and started scratching at her arms once more.

“And would you stop scratching yourself?”

“I can’t help it!” Lila cried, spilling real tears for once.

The lighting in the office was decent. Adequate to see by, but not quite enough to get a full detail of what they were looking at. In an attempt to help, Damocles turned on his desk lamp and moved it shine on Lila, putting her skin in much clearer display.

And particularly, the red and splotchy areas that were slowly spreading on her body.

“Good heavens!” Damocles shouted as he went to his phone to call the nurse. “That is an extensive rash, dear girl!”

Her mother grabbed her arm to look closer. “What did you do? Take a bath in the Seine?”

“I didn’t have a choice! I was being chased!” Lila exclaimed, attempting to pull her arm out of her mother’s hold so as to scratch more.

“That…would explain the smell.” Damocles noted before the receiver picked up and he quickly turned his attention to requesting the school nurse’s assistance.

“Did you at least wash it off? Didn’t you shower when you got home?” Her mother asked, exasperated as she had to keep hold of Lila’s arm to prevent her from scratching herself.

Lila hunched over. “No. I had to call you first.”

Her mother groaned in response, much to Lila’s irritation. She glared up at the woman who should be reassuring her own child in this hardship but instead was merely shaking her head at Lila like this was something she had simply brought upon herself!

How could she?! What sort of mother would be so cruel?

She barely paid any attention when the nurse entered the office with some ointment in hand. She only realized what they were doing when they started to slather the gel on her skin, which felt gross and humiliating. Made all the moreso with the way the nurse and her own mother couldn’t fight the looks of disgust at the smell that still covered her. Even Ladybug calling her out in front of Adrien hadn’t been so humiliating.

But it would get worse.

Damocles coughed. “We will resume this discussion another time. Madam, if you are willing, I can arrange a meeting with the students involved and allow you to discuss reparations in an informal…non-court setting.”

“If you please, that would be preferred. In the meantime, I will be taking Lila home so we can deal with all of…” She paused, waving her arms around and trying to think of the right words before simply shrugging with a sigh. “This.”

“Wait! I can’t go out there! Everyone will see me like this!”

It was perhaps out of some love as a mother, or just some small mercy that had Amara Rossi agree to take her daughter through a roundabout path out of the school. One that allowed Lila to take hallways that were less used and offered less visibility in and out of the classrooms.

And most importantly allowed her to avoid Bustier’s class.

After getting instructions from the school nurse regarding skin care to get rid of the rashes, Amara thanked both Damocles and the nurse before taking Lila outside. The two made it to the front of the school with few being there to witness Lila’s ‘walk of shame’ so to speak. It was probably more than Lila deserved, but her mother was hardly cruel. Tough when she had to be, certainly.

There was now just the final leg of the trip. Amara started down the steps of the school and made it to the bottom before she realized her daughter wasn’t following her.

“Lila!” She hissed. “Get down here!”

“But…” Lila hesitated, looking up and behind her to where Bustier’s class would have a perfect view of her exit.

“Now, Lila. Or do you still want to be out here when classes are over?”

Lila forced herself to move down the steps—both as quickly as possible to try and lessen the amount of time anyone had to see her and as carefully as possible to avoid anything touching the ointment on her skin.

“When we get home, the first thing you’ll be doing is taking a shower to clean yourself properly this time. We will be going through your room as well and taking back your laptop, your phone, and anything I even think you may have bought with that stolen money.”

Lila grumbled but didn’t argue.

“Yes, mother.”

At this point, she just prayed no one had seen her.

__________________

They saw her.

“Is that Lila?”

“It is! And her mom!”

“What’s that on Lila’s arms?”

“Oh. Wow.”

Bustier had stepped out of the room for what she said would be a minute while leaving the class with some assignment to do until she returned. Naturally, given the drama of the day, no one was really able to focus on the schoolwork. So instead, they took to quietly chatting with one another. Or in Alya’s case, nudging Marinette repeatedly as the girl tried to wrap her head around the prospect of having a date with Adrien.

No, THREE dates. Wait—were they dates? Like…date-dates?

Fortunately for her own peace of mind, her imagination was put on hold by the exclamations of those near the windows. Helpless to the draw of wanting to know what all the fuss is about, Marinette and the others on her side of the class joined those at the windows to see just what it was about Lila that had grabbed their attention.

And she had to say: Yikes.

“That has to be the worst rash I’ve ever seen.”

“Looks like that dip in the Seine did not agree with her.”

Marinette winced in sympathy.

As Ladybug, she had a few instances of having to make use of the Seine or the sewers as an exit, so she knew full well how nasty the water could be. The suit and resulting Cure would normally rid her of any of the water or contaminants or so Tikki said, but that didn’t stop Marinette from taking a good long shower afterwards. Or three. Just to feel clean afterwards, despite Tikki’s reassurance.

What happened this time?

She looked down to her purse, but the little clasp remained resolutely closed. Even when she tried to pull at it.

Tikki...what did you do?

“I feel kind of bad.” Rose murmured, resting a hand on the window. “She only jumped into the Seine because of me. Because I had everyone hunting her.”

“I don’t.” Alix replied. “You were only after her because of what she did.”

Nino nodded in agreement. “Yeah. And if the info on the Ladyblog regarding Lila’s crimes are any indication, she may have been doing it to help Hawk Moth.”

“We can’t prove that, though.” Ivan noted.

Rose hugged herself.

Marinette hugged her as well. “Whether or not Lila deserved it, it happened because of Hawk Moth. Not you. So please don’t blame yourself, Rose.”

Adrien came up next to them and rested a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “If we try to question who is truly at fault, we’ll be dragging this out forever. All we can do at this point is try to figure out where to go from here.”

“Hey, that’s right!” Mylene realized. “Rose, what are you going to do about the charity?”

Rose looked down. “I don’t know. It’s kind of pointless now since we don’t have the money anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t try again.” Nino reassured her.

Adrien nodded in agreement. “Plus Alya and I were talking earlier. If you still have the ledger of the funds, you could try to bring up charges against Lila to get the money returned. My father has some attorneys our company frequently uses for any legal issues. I could see about getting one of them involved to find out how to proceed on this.”

“Dude, seriously? Is your dad cool with this?” Nino asked, completely taken aback that the man would do such a thing.

“It’s only the beginning of what he could do to make up for his part in this.” Adrien muttered.

Nino blinked at his friend and his…strangely dark expression. Then he grinned and slapped Adrien on the back. “Good for you, man!”

“But what about Lila though?” Ivan asked.

“Murder?” Juleka asked.

Which of course, none of them took seriously.

Right? Right.

“If Lila’s mom’s attitude is any indication, I don’t think Lila will be getting away with the theft.” Kim said, looking out the window in the direction the two ladies left. “She looked maaaaaaad.”

“She is angry from what I have heard.” Max said from his seat. He didn’t look up from his tablet and was the only one aside from Nathaniel to not move from his desk. “Apparently Lila had been lying to her mother and the school about why she’s been absent for months. And then with the theft on top of that, plus all of the other things revealed thanks to Witch Hunter, I believe there is a 97.3% chance that Lila will be grounded for the foreseeable future.”

“Wait. How do you know that?” Kim asked.

“Markov told me.”

“Oh.”

A pause.

“And…how does HE know tha—”

Max simply disregarded him and turned to Rose. “You should probably discuss the matter with Lila’s mother. It sounds like she is taking the issue seriously and would like to meet with you and work this out appropriately.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” She said with a smile. Albeit a somewhat wary smile.

“So there may be a chance to get the money back then?” Ivan asked, hopefully.

“But wait—what about Prince Ali?” Alix realized.

This brought all eyes to Rose, who looked hurt at the reminder of her friend cutting off ties with her.

“Rose…” Marinette started.

She winced. “I…still have his email. I don’t know if he’ll talk to me, but…I can apologize. And I can try to make it right. I think…” She took a breath. “I think I understand now why he was so upset. He’s a Prince and must be used to a lot of people trying to use him.”

She hesitated, looking down.

“Lila was…probably that exact type of person. And she was able to use him through me—even if she didn’t know it.”

The others winced.

Yeah, it was probably a good thing they learned about Lila now before it got too serious. Who knows what would have happened if Lila had ever actually gotten to meet him? Or really any of the other celebrities they actually knew.

Rose bit her lip for a moment, then looked up. “I’ve been thinking…if I do get the money back…since the charity Lila had told us about doesn’t exist, we can’t donate the money as planned. I would like to give the funds to a charity with a similar purpose—I even found one that looks genuine and does a lot of good, but…” She frowned. “That’s still misleading to the people who originally donated.”

“So what will you do?”

“I have a log of everyone who donated since I had wanted everyone to get credit or some sort of ‘Thank You’ for helping. I can try to reach out to them and ask them what they want to do.” She brightened slightly. “Alya is also helping by putting a notice on the Ladyblog about what happened and what we’re doing so that anyone who did donate before can be alerted and know to contact me.“

Alya smiled. “It seems to be working so far. If anything, I’ve been more messages from people wanting to donate as well.

Mylene gasped in delight. “You may end up with even more funding for your charity, Rose.”

“Just as long as we make it clear it’s the real deal this time.” Alya agreed. “I posted the charity’s info on the website as well as some links to verification sites so people can check for themselves that it’s real. This way, we don’t run into the same problem we had with Lila or get accused of lying ourselves.”

Well, that was a relief. They had a plan and they were certainly taking this seriously.

“I’m glad for you, Rose.”

Rose smiled back. “Thank you. I know this doesn’t really fix everything, but it feels like the right thing to do.”

“Aww!”

The group hug that commenced was just what they all needed.

__________________

Tom and Sabine had quite the busy day. Especially with that girl who had come in earlier and snuck into Marinette’s room.

And the akuma. Though they were at least getting used to daily disruptions caused by those.

“I hope nothing came of it.” Sabine worried as she was finishing putting things away. “I’m sure she was doing something up in Marinette’s room.”

“I’m sure if anything happened, Marinette could handle it. And if she couldn’t, she would let us know.” Tom replied as he headed to the laundry room to put away their used aprons and towels.

There was silence for a bit.

Then…

“Honey?”

Sabine paused and turned towards her husband. “Yes, dear?”

“Did that girl ever come back with Marinette’s clothes?”

Confused, she started towards the laundry room where her husband was. “No, why?”

Tom turned to her, with some items in hand. “I think she left her things behind and the Miracle Ladybug Cure didn’t send them back.”

Sabine stared. “Oh my!” She reached forward. “These look practically brand new!”

“And expensive.” Tom added.

The two looked over the items before looking up at each other. With a nod, they seemed to come to the same conclusion.

“Early birthday gift for Mari!”

“We’ll take it to Roger.”

…not…so same conclusion, evidently.

Sabine gave Tom a flat look. Tom smiled embarrassedly and rubbed his head.

“Yes. We can take it to Rodger as part of the case.” He agreed, sheepishly.

Sabine sighed and shook her head.

“Though maybe we can discuss it with the school.” She mused. “Since that girl is a student there. And some of the things on the Ladyblog are a bit concerning…”

“Should we still press charges?” Tom asked, worried. “Let’s wait and speak with Roger tomorrow. And see what Marinette has to add.” Sabine said, taking the items from Tom and placing them in a safety box where they wouldn’t be mistaken as common items.

…or early birthday gifts.

__________________

Taking the Dragon Miraculous back to Fu was easy enough.

Apologizing for beaning him with a pot was less so.

“It is all right, Marinette. Really.” Fu assured her as he took the box back from her and restored the choker to it’s rightful place. “With the Miraculous Cure, I no longer have the injury.”

Marinette winced from her seat at the table. “Still, I feel really bad about it.”

He shook his head. “You did what you had to. The akuma’s influence was widespread by that point and the situation was dire.”

Especially since her kwami and the Guardian himself had both been affected as well.

He wouldn’t say he…approved with her methods. Or the headache it had caused him. But it had allowed her to defeat the akuma and restore things in the end. And truly, that was what mattered.

“It took a lot of strength from you today, Marinette. I am proud of what you accomplished.” He told her as he returned the Miracle Box to its hiding place.

“I just wish I could have helped Rose more.” She murmured.

“You did everything you could, Marinette!” Tikki insisted.

“It is difficult, but sometimes there is only so much that can be done, even with the aid of the Miraculous.” Fu returned to his seat at the table. “But I sense that is not the only thing on your mind today. Am I wrong?”

Marinette gasped. “Oh, Master! There’s something we’ve discovered today. Something really important!”

Tikki gasped. “That’s right!”

The two nodded to each other and spoke at the same time.

“Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth!”

“Adrien invited you to see a movie!”

Marinette froze, turning red at the reminder.

Tikki, for her part, blinked at Marinette in confusion.

“Wait…you mean what Lila said earlier?”

“That’s right.” Marinette said, turning her attention to Fu and away from any distractions of stupidly cute blond boys. “Earlier today, Lila tried to claim that Gabriel Agreste was Hawk Moth.”

Fu frowned. “Marinette, are you sure about this? Lila Rossi was Hawk Moth’s accomplice. As well as an unrepentant liar. This may be a lie as well.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Lila tells lies if she thinks they’ll benefit her, but she’ll tell the truth if she thinks it could serve her more.”

Yeah, she knew that much from Lila’s attempt to sneak into her room and get dirt on her.

But more than that, Hawk Moth had betrayed Lila. After working with him all this time, someone she had…at least trusted she could use if not actually trusted had turned on her. And was even outright going to let the akuma kill her.

If Lila could be so spiteful for this long over Ladybug simply telling someone she had lied about knowing her, she couldn’t put it past the girl to not hold some grudge against Hawk Moth as well. And if she thought she knew who he was…

Well, if all else had failed her, there was no reason at that point not to try to reveal it.

“It would explain her connection to Gabriel Agreste as well.” Marinette reasoned. “He was a known recluse for a year before Adrien started school. He would keep Adrien from any events. Refused to let his friends come to visit him or for him to visit them. And wouldn’t even let Adrien have a birthday part.” She frowned, tapping her chin.

“So why would a man like that who is so protective of his son trust some random teenage girl with Adrien’s well being? Especially one he has never met who lied to his staff, forced her way into his home, manipulated his son into a photo op,” Not that she was bitter of course, “…and snuck into his personal office?”

Fu frowned, considering her words. “That is strange.”

“Exactly!” Marinette said, pushing closer to the table in earnest. “Even if she didn’t know he was Hawk Moth at the start, she still tried to get to him because of his control over Adrien. It was a connection she knew she could use, so it would benefit her. Which is Lila’s MO.” She said with a roll of her eyes.

She shook her head. “But this would explain why he would seemingly trust her. If he was Hawk Moth, that means he akumatized her before. Three times, even!”

Fu nodded. “The powers of the Butterfly would have let him know what she was like. If she was a willing assistant as Witch Hunter’s scroll proclaimed, he would have known.”

Tikki gasped. “It could also explain the mass akumatization when you had gotten expelled!”

Marinette gripped the table in growing anger. “They must have planned it! How else would he have known to have it ready?”

“Calm yourself, Marinette.” Fu reached out to place a hand over her own. “This is a good theory, but you don’t want to open yourself to an akuma. Especially not after everything that has already happened today.”

She wilted at that. “You’re right, Master. I’m sorry.”

“That is all right.” He assured her with a kind smile. “It is healthy to feel emotions, but you cannot let them overcome you.”

“But…” She hesitated. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

He paused for a moment, thinking it over as he took a sip of tea. “I had suspected once before that whomever had the Grimoire likely had both the missing Miraculous as well. After Gabriel Agreste had been akuamtized, I had wondered as you did whether it was simply coincidence.”

“Because the Butterfly user can’t akumatize himself, can he?” She asked.

He gestured to the tablet containing the translated Grimoire. “Normally, I would say not. But as you have learned, there are ways around any barrier. And as coincidences increase, at some point, we must ask how many coincidences are necessary before something is proven true.”

He smiled. “One such coincidence may be that he had the lost Grimoire. But another may be how convenient it was that he should be akumatized immediately when anyone may be suspecting him after its loss.”

She frowned, uncertain.

“Let us think on it for now, Marinette. And it will be best if we keep an eye on both Gabriel Agreste and Lila Rossi in the meantime.”

“Yes! Thank you, Master Fu!” She nodded before getting up and heading to the door.

“Goodbye, Master! Goodbye, Wayzz!” Tikki chimed before she flew into Marinette’s purse.

As Marinette walked down the street towards home with Tikki in tow, she continued to think over things. What she had learned. What Master Fu had told her. What she had experienced throughout the day.

“Oh!” She gasped as she realized something.

“What is it, Marinette?” Tikki asked from within the opening of the purse. They were mostly alone for the moment, so they could afford to speak if they did so quietly.

“Something I’d been meaning to ask you.” Marinette told her. “What happened with Lila today? The Cure normally fixes things to how they were before the akuma, so why was Lila covered in a full body rash?”

“The Cure sometimes acts in mysterious ways.” Tikki replied.

Marinette frowned. The answer was obviously vague. And Tikki’s refusal to meet her gaze indicated she knew more than she was letting on.

“Tikki…”

“Oh, look at the time! You should be getting home, Marinette!”

“TIKKI!”

__________________

Rose looked over her draft for what had to be the thirtieth time.

Excessive, maybe. But she wanted to make sure she was doing it right.

Ali,

I do not know if you will read this letter, or if it has even been permitted to reach you. At the very least, I am hoping for a chance to tell you from the bottom of my heart:

I am sorry.

While I had never meant to harm you, it doesn’t change the fact that you were harmed. And this harm could have been prevented had I been more cautious.

I could come up with any number of reasons as to why I chose to put my trust in the wrong person. The girl I had thought was promoting this charity was my friend. I wanted to believe the best in my friend. But that is no excuse.

If I truly had respect for you as a friend and as your station of Prince, I should have done my due diligence in ensuring the honesty of anyone I trusted. Especially before I tried to encourage you to trust them as well.

You were right. It was foolish of me.

From your perspective, it must have seemed as a sign that I did not take your friendship seriously. And I am deeply ashamed that I ever allowed that impression to anyone, but to you most of all.

If you choose not to forgive me, I understand. But I at least want you to know that I am going to make this right.

I am pursuing legal options against the girl in question. I do not know how much we will be able to see returned, but I fully intent to refund the donations to you and everyone else who had trusted me to do the right thing.

This may not fix anything. And you do not owe me anything from it. But I hope I can at least try to make up for my mistake and be the person you believed me capable of instead of the fool she turned me into.

Thank you for everything,

Rose

She took a breath.

Okay.

This was it then.

Any last words? Any final changes? Any regrets?

…no.

She shut her eyes and clicked ‘send’.

And finally exhaled. With the air, she breathed out all of her anxieties, fears, and doubts.

She had done what she could.

She was doing what she can.

That was…that was all anyone could expect of her.

All that she could expect of herself.

…

…

…

That didn’t make it not ache though.

But there was nothing for it now, she realized as she turned away from her computer to go to bed.

She wanted to fix things. Desperately so. But she couldn’t force Ali to accept her apology and forgive her anymore than she could force Lila to be honest.

Rose curled up under her covers and hugged her pillow close.

It was a small comfort. But one she was going to allow herself.

She hoped for the best. She always did.

But even if he didn’t…she would move forward and continue doing good. Just as he inspired her to.

She just…

A couple tears fell.

She had just wished he would be around to see it.

It would take another hour before she would fall asleep.

…

…

…

It would be another three hours before an email alert came up on her computer.

__________________

Ugh.

Lila fell onto her bed, huffing angrily.

This whole day sucked.

She was attacked by an akuma. Everyone turned on her. Hawk Moth was going to let her die. And even when everything was saved, everything was ruined.

Thanks, Rose. Thanks, Hawk Moth. Thanks, Ladybug.

And now she was stuck here in Paris and couldn’t even get away from any of it!

She groaned into her pillow. She couldn’t be too loud, though, as her mother was being annoyingly alert and “keeping an eye on her” now. The last thing she needed was to give her reason to suspect something was up and cause her to come barging into her room.

There was no escape this time. Not now that everyone knew.

She’d still have to deal with her class. Even worse, she’d have to see Adrien and Marinette making eyes at each other.

She’d still have to deal with the school. And now that they knew what she did, she wouldn’t be getting away with anything again.

She’d still have to deal with Hawk Moth, and his akumas would still be a risk for her, as well. She wouldn’t put it past him to try to take her out. What little power and control she had was gone now.

And worst of all…

…Ladybug.

That measly little bug and her damn threat against her. To follow her. To keep an eye on her. To be her…special friend.

Like she would really do that.

Lila turned over in her sheets, settling into her bed and getting comfortable.

Or trying, at least.

Something felt off. She just didn’t know what.

She glanced around her room. It was much more barren now since her mother had cleared out a lot of her belongings. Her laptop and cellphone were gone, as was the limited light they provided in the dark.

She huffed and turned over to face away from the door.

Half asleep, she glanced out the window.

Two glowing blue orbs were staring back.

She screamed.

__________________

A creak of a window opening and closing.

A giggle.

“Huh? Tikki? Zzat you?”

“I’m fine, Marinette. I was just checking on something.”

A yawn.

“What was it?”

Another giggle.

“Nothing important.”

Two blue eyes sent a glare out into the city.

“Nothing at all...”