#how he is not in shambles constantly is miraculous to me

[fallen-goldfishcracker]

okay but does it ever kill you how much Wyll loves being the Blade of Frontiers? I think we tend to think of Wyll as this serious, stoic guy, but he's so ridiculously silly about his whole superhero persona. He grew up absolutely in love with storybook heros and tales of bravery and all the bard songs and legends. Look at his reaction to meeting Minsc and Boo!

He must love getting to be a figure like that for a whole new generation of kids. He loves the bard songs (even the bawdy ones!) and the title and the stories, but he just loves being someone brave and worthy and able to help. He loves being a hero!

And to add on to that, its definitely a coping mechanism for him. Perhaps a bit of a messed-up one, but hey, its working.

Which is why the body modification by Mizora seems doubly painful- it doesn't matter that Wyll got them for noble reasons, what the horns do- (and what Wyll knows they do, because he's not an idiot and he understands the common people better than probably anyone else)- is send that whole dream crashing to the ground. He's immediately marked as other. Florrick almost completely passes over him. The tiefling refugees shrink around him. The guards at the doors of his own city don't recognize him. I think Wyll could absolutely win the people's hearts back, he's Wyll Ravengard, of course he could! But in the short term, by gods that's got to hurt.

This is at least the second time in his life he's lost everything in one fell swoop. No wonder he's miserable at the tiefling party- I would be too! It's a testament to his frankly astonishing emotional fortitude that he's barely even moping.

[verfound]

Here in this diary! (I think I know but I wanna seeee)

...I was honestly gonna save these for the next two WIPWednesdays, but then someone said @lukanettejune had Villain!Luka as today's prompt (6/4), and it just seemed like it'd be fun to share this today?

Because I've been sitting on Villain!Butterfly!Luka for a while now without having a lot of time to work on it, and I'm pretty sure the only ones I've discussed it with are the OG LBSC crew. And y'all will never believe when I say our Fluffy Meet Cute Queen is the one who gave me the prompt. 😁

The prompt started with Marinette recording Guardian/Ladybug-specific things in her diary, in case anything ever happened to her (because superheroes typically don't have a long life expectancy lbr), to explain - or to lead the next Guardian. I can't remember if Luka specifically getting the diary/Marinette giving it to him was the original idea (it's LBSC it probably was), but it...ran away with me. And Shadowman was born.

The summary: Under normal circumstances, Luka would never read someone’s diary. But Marinette’s been missing since Ladybug’s death, and he’s desperate. Every page gives him new insight into the girl he was realizing he never really knew. Every page reveals just how much Paris had failed its beloved heroine – how much he had failed her. Now Luka Couffaine is out for revenge, and the only person who could stop him is gone.

So here's what I've got.

We open on the death of Ladybug. It's the final showdown with Hawkmoth, and Viperion is the only 'temporary' hero there because LB thought they'd need Second Chance (and he's the only one she really trusts anymore). Viperion and Chat Noir are standing over LB's body, and Hawkmoth is cackling behind them, Mayura crumpled at his feet. He tells them he might not have won, but they haven't either - "Your hero is dead! Your precious Ladybug is DEAD!"

And Viperion walks over and just clocks him. He takes Hawkmoth and Mayura's Miraculous, but when he turns around Chat and Ladybug are gone. This leads him to believe Chat has LB's body/her Miraculous - but he's...confused. Did this mean they won? He hears the sirens approaching and waits for the police. Before they take hi away, Gabriel asks him: "Have you actually won anything? Is Paris truly safe?"

Two weeks pass. It's a mixed bag: Hawkmoth is defeated, but Chair Noir hasn't been seen or heard of since the defeat, and Ladybug is dead. Paris is safe but in mourning. Luka is guilt-ridden over Ladybug's death, convinced he could have prevented it and his failure to fix it makes him an unworthy Snake. He renounces Sass, and he's been keeping the Snake, Butterfly, and Peacock in a safe place.

In this 'verse, Luka doesn't know or suspect that Marinette is Ladybug. Immediately after the battle, Luka called Marinette. He needed to talk to her, to see her - but she never answered. He tried to go over the next morning, but Sabine calls him and lets him know Marinette wasn't in her bed that morning. They didn't hear her leave, but she's not answering her phone and they can't find her - has he seen her? So for two weeks he has been at the bakery almost constantly, tirelessly helping Tom and Sabine search for Marinette. No one can find her. No one's heard from her. And he's starting to go a little nuts.

(Note that this takes place during summer - HM was defeated right before break. Dingo's back in Australia for the summer, which is important for Reasons. Luka's not in school, stopped going to work, and is using pretty much all his time to help look for Marinette.)

So it's been two weeks. No akumas because no Hawkmoth, a dead Bug, and a missing Marinette. Luka's at the bakery, shambling around Marinette's room. Tom and Sabine are downstairs, waiting on a call from Roger who may have found a lead. And Luka's just poking around, spiraling, when he notices...the box with Marinette's diary is open. It wasn't open before. And there, on top of her diary, are two letters: one addressed to him and one addressed to Chat Noir.

So he reads his. It's a goodbye/Just In Case letter. She explains how she was hoping he wouldn't find it/she wouldn't need it. She'd set a magical lock on the box, so that if something happened and she didn't come back...and she's sorry. She's so sorry, because she never wanted to drag Luka back into this, but she needed him. She tells him her diary will explain everything: she wrote everything down, and she always thought it was because she just loved to journal, but she realized it was because she never had any proper training. The next Ladybug/Guardian deserves better. If she doesn't make it, the next LB/Guardian has to be prepared. Better than she was.

And Luka can't move. Can't breathe, can't think. Because the letter had been addressed to him, and he wasn't going to read it, but he had hoped maybe there was a clue, except the clue was...Marinette is Ladybug.

Ladybug is dead.

...Marinette is dead.

And it's all his fault.

And he reads her diary, convinced he had to have misunderstood...but it's all there. Everything. Becoming Ladybug, her spiraling feelings for Adrien, Chat being so pushy with his affections, her troubles with Lila and the class, the expulsion, Alya constantly pushing/pressuring her with Adrien, becoming Guardian, feeling like she had to bear everything because Chat was so lackadaisical/reckless/self-sacrificing, her growing feelings for Luka...and Luka realizes it's true. She was Ladybug, and she was going through so much more than she ever let on. And he realizes that all of them - even him - only made it worse. And they're not going to find Marinette, because Ladybug is dead, and they never found Ladybug's body, and...he just goes numb.

He walks out of her room. Out of the bakery. He doesn't answer Tom or Sabine when they ask if he's ok. He just...walks. And he doesn't fully realize any of this/where he was going/doing until he wakes up the next morning in his bed with tears still drying on his face. And Juleka's there, and she's like "bro wtf?" because he's freaking her the hell out, and he just says: "...she's gone."

And for the first time ever, Luka looks at Juleka and is...angry. Furious. And he can't talk to her. He realizes he blames her. He blames himself. He blames everyone: her 'friends', her classmates, her family, Paris...if they had all tried harder, been better, then she wouldn't be...if they hadn't left her all alone...

And Luka just Shuts Down. Everyone's worried about him, but he won't talk about it. He's closing himself off to everyone - even Juleka and Anarka. Sabine calls Anarka, because Luka went from being at the bakery every day helping the search to nothing, but Anarka has no idea?

Luka keeps rereading the diary. He's stuck in this loop of "I should have known," "we should have helped her," "this is our fault..."

And another week or so passes. There's still no sign of Marinette, except now Luka knows why - knows that she's never coming back. And he finally goes back to the bakery to tell Tom and Sabine what he knows, because it's cruel to put them through this any longer. He has the diary, her letter, and the three Miraculous stones with him. And they're all sitting in the kitchen, and he's trying to talk and failing to find the words.

The news is playing in the background: Nadja is doing a special on the rise and fall of Paris's beloved heroine. She comments how Chat Noir hasn't been seen since the "battle that freed Paris from Hawkmoth's reign of terror" and speculates that it's because he's mourning his lover. And Luka just...snaps. Shouts "That lying bitch!" at the television. Sabine asks if he's ok, but he's not - Ladybug is gone. Marinette is gone. And nobody cares. Nobody realized they caused it. And they need to be held accountable - they need to pay.

Tom and Sabine knew about Silencer, of course, but they've never seen calm, sweet Luka so angry before - and it terrifies them. And Tom tries to tell Luka that it's ok - Marinette's not gone, not like Ladybug is. They're going to find her. They can't give up hope. And Luka realizes her own parents didn't even know. They didn't notice. They did nothing to see or stop how she was hurting. And as much as he loves them, he realizes they must pay, too - and he's the only one who can make them. He has her diary. He has the Butterfly. He can make them all realize how alone they left her. He can make them all feel as hopeless as they made her feel - as he feels now.

And he tells Tom he's wrong: Marinette is dead. Marinette was Ladybug, and she's dead, and she's never coming home, and it's all their fault - even his. But they don't believe him, and he leaves without showing them the diary. He just feels...defeated.

Back at the Liberty, he comes home to find Juleka and Rose watching the same report. And he retreats to somewhere deep in the Liberty, somewhere private, where he can don the Butterfly. He starts flipping through the diary, and he finds a passage where Marinette was venting about Nadja: her journalistic integrity ("No wonder Alya thinks its' ok when THAT'S Paris's example!"), the Prime Queen interview when she was more interested in pushing LadyNoir than discussing Hawkmoth, about how she's ALWAYS been like that, how many times she's called her last-minute to watch Manon to chase a story...and it's important to note that none of these things are inherently bad, or that Marinette is saying Nadja's awful for them. She's venting in her diary, like you do. But Luka's in such a dark place by this point that it only makes things worse.

He tears the page out and keeps reading and rereading it. Keeps thinking how Nadja must pay. HE summons Nooroo, and before Nooroo can speak Luka tells him everything that happened. Hawkmoth's gone, but so is LB. That Paris let their Guardian fall. Nooroo is devastated because that means Tikki's gone, too, and what about the Miracle Box? Luka assures him he'll take care of the Box, but Paris has to answer for what they did. Nooroo agrees to help, gives Luka a basic rundown of the Butterfly's powers, and Luka transforms - except Nooroo didn't explain everything, and Luka didn't have Marinette's training, so he doesn't realize Nooroo doesn't need negative emotions. He thinks you have to upset someone to create an akuma.

So he takes the diary page to the TVi studios and confronts Nadja on air. He introduces himself as Shadowman. (For a hot second he considers introducing himself as 'Shadowmoth' - which I would like to point out this story was started before that name was dropped so fuck you Gabriel - but it's too close to 'Hawkmoth', and Hawkmoth was the one who killed Marinette. He refuses to be associated with him/take his name.) He tells Nadja and the world that Ladybug was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. That Marinette is dead because Ladybug is dead. And that Paris caused it.

He accuses Nadja of sensationalizing Ladybug and the akumas/battles. He reads the diary page on air. Nadja doesn't believe him at first, but then he gives her the page and she recognizes Marinette's handwriting. Realizes he's right. She's overcome by guilt/grief, and Shadowman creates an akuma. It goes into the diary page, and Prime Queen is reborn as Telecaster.

And this was all live. All of Paris is watching the broadcast, and they know they aren't safe.

Cut to where Adrien's been hiding. He sees the whole thing, and he can't believe it - until he hears the people in the studio screaming. He realizes he has to do something, because Paris isn't safe anymore, and this time there's no Ladybug to fix his mistakes.

Back at TVi, Telecaster is attacking everyone. As Nadja she was determined to tell the news, even to the point of amping up stories for ratings - but that was kinda forced by her producer? So she's going after the bigwigs at the studio for forcing her to be so ratings-focused/sensationalistic. And she's just destroying the studio, which is...fine. Paris has other media outlets...right? It's just chaos.

Chat Noir finally shows his face and demands to know what Shadowman thinks he's doing/who he is. Part of Shadowman's disguise is literal darkness, so he lets the shadows recede and lets Chat actually see him. And Chat realizes it's Viperion/Luka - and he pleads with him to stop. That LB/Marinette wouldn't want this - that she loved this city and knowing he was attacking it would kill her.

And it's just...the wrong thing to say. Shadowman says the city was what killed her, and they have to answer for it. That Chat has to answer for it. But Chat doesn't understand - he was LB's partner? Her friend? He was at the final battle with her - how is her death his fault?

But Shadowman tells him it's not his time yet. He is coming for him - he will get his Miraculous back for the Box - but not yet. He will get LB's Miraculous back (note that he's operating under the belief that Chat has LB's body/Miraculous, so he honestly believes CHat will just use them to purify the akuma and fix the damage - except Chat doesn't and can't). But Paris must suffer first, just like Marinette suffered. He disappears before Chat can go after him - and then Telecaster is attacking and he has to focus on her.

And Chat does defeat Telecaster, but there's no LB. No one to purify the akuma or fix the damage. He doesn't actually have her Miraculous, so what now? (This leads to Chat having a growing collection of butterfly jars with akumas and no idea how to fix it. Paris needs LB - he needs LB.)

After leaving Chat to deal with Telecaster, Shadowman goes back to the bakery to retrieve the Miracle Box. Marinette's skylight was always open (he always assumed it was because it's the roof no one can enter through there - except now he realizes it was easy access for Ladybug). Tom and Sabine hear noise from her room and burst in with umbrellas/paddles/whatever but freeze when they see Shadowman standing there with the Box. They try and stop him: they saw the report, they know who he is, they realize who Marinette was, and believe it's now their duty to protect the Box, since Marinette can't. And Shadowman is livid, because "You couldn't even protect her. You never even noticed...your home is supposed to be safe. Your parents are supposed to keep you safe. When did you ever do that?"

He akumatizees Tom and Sabine before he leaves: the dual-akuma Safe Harbor. There's no diary page left with them because Marinette never actually spoke out against her parents in the diary: it's just Luka's frustration with them. He leaves them there and goes back to the Liberty to retieve Sass, Duusu, and the diary.

Back at TVi, Chat realizes that if LB was Marinette and LB was the Guardian then Marinette would have the Miracle Box. He takes his coffee mug with the akuma and books it back to the bakery, except her skylight door is now locked? The balcony was always open to him, but is now locked? So he has to go in through the side/home door as Adrien.

Tom greets him. Is being very jittery/Concerned Parent and acting Weird - and so is Sabine. They're both worrying over him, apologizing about Gabriel, asking if he's ok - and he can't get a word in edgewise. Finally yells at them to stop - he needs to see Marinette's room. He needs to get the Miracle Box. And they just...freeze. They don't react at first. He tells them he knows they saw the news - everyone did - so they have to know that Marinette was LB. And LB had the Miracle Box/all the Miraculous gems, and he has to get them back. But they try and laugh it off (again, it's all very stilted), and he finally just transforms. Says he was LB's partner, and with her gone it's on him to protect the Box now. Except when he looks back at them the butterfly mask is over their eyes and he realizes they're akumatized, too - and he just gave his identity away to Shadowman.

Safe Harbor is like a Stepford version of Tom and Sabine. They're turning the bakery into a fortress because they couldn't keep Marinette safe, so now they're making it the ultimate safe haven. And even though Shadowman realizes Adrien's identity, Safe Harbor doesn't fully? They just see it as Adrien fighting back/resisting their protection - so they deem him a threat and start attacking him. (Again, no diary page here: the akumatized object is a family photo of Tom, Sabine, and Marinette.)

After the fight, Chat goes to trap the akuma in the coffee cup with the other one - only to realize the cup is empty. He remembers akumas can phase through objects, and he has no feasible way of trapping the akumas. But...Cataclysm destroyed Uncanny Valley. Could it maybe destroy akumas, too? Before he can try it, the akuma is released and a white butterfly flutters away.

Across the street, Shadowan is lurking and watching him. He doesn't understand why Chat didn't use Ladybug's powers to purify the akuma. Why isn't Chat fixing any of this? Does he want to watch the city burn? He thinks Chat's just being stubborn. Well, he can be stubborn, too. He has to up his game next time. He releases the akuma because, deep down, Shadowman is still Luka. He still cares about the city and the people he's going after. Maybe a little sliver of conscience not letting him go all-out yet?

So Luka returns to the Liberty long enough to retrieve Sass, Duusu, and the diary before he realizes he has to leave. Adrien is Chat, and Adrien was the one who chose him as Viperion, so Chat knows who he is/where to find him, too. Juleka catches him before he leaves, and says, "...I was afraid it was you. On the TV. Luka, you have to stop this." "None of you stopped. I don't see why I should, either."

Luka goes into hiding. He remembers reading about Master Fu's old shop in the diary. Master Fu had left it to Marinette as a safe house, but as far as he knows Chat doesn't go there anymore (no reason to) and doesn't realize he knows about it. (Eventually, later on, Chat does go there and catches Luka - so Luka ends up hiding out at Dingo's home, bc the Kings are in Australia for the summer/it's empty.)

Aaaand that's all I have of the outline so far. 😂 The idea is Luka creates a hit list using the diary: Nadja, Tom and Sabine, Mayor Bourgeois, Alya, The Girl Squad (yes even Juleka and Rose), Lila, Chloé, Marinette's class in general, Mlle. Bustier, M. Damocles, Master Fu, Chat Noir/Adrien, and finally Luka himself. He confronts each person with a page torn from the diary, and he uses Marinette's own words to convince them of their guilt. With the exception of Tom and Sabine, the akuma is always in the diary page. Chatdrien is Luka's 'last' target, because as Ladybug's partner he blames him most - except the real 'last target' is actually Luka.

He plans his final akuma almost like a suicide mission, hoping that Chat will Cataclysm him/take him out when Shadowman kills him, so they're both defeated simultaneously. Except...

Things don't go as planned. Because Ladybug wasn't dead. The Guardians were able to heal her. And she was never supposed to see Luka this way.

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU part 10!!!!!

First • Previous • Here • Next

Guys. It’s been a week now since this started. I just wanted to say again, thank you to all the lovely folk who have liked, reblogged, followed, messaged, and replied. You keep me motivated and loving every word that I write, knowing that I’ll get to share it with you.

“We- ah, defeated! The three,” Marinette was saying to the police, and Damian stopped and listened, bewildered, as she played up her French accent, searching for words he was absolutely certain she knew. “And then we hid in the dark room, and I kept Mme. Isley quiet, as they looked for us. And then Red Hood came, and told us it was safe, and took Mme. Isley, and we came out to you.”

Gordon looked tired, but that did seem to be a Police Commissioner’s natural state. “Thank you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. Damian Wayne. Let’s get your statement, real quick, and then you can go.”

Damian cocked one brow. “We were in a back room, speaking, when Pamela stumbled in, injured. Marinette bound her wound while I called for help. We were found by some of Scarecrow’s lackeys, but we managed to subdue them before hiding, until we were given an all clear by Red Hood. He took Pam, and we came here.”

Gordon grinned lightly. “Succinct as always. I’ll let your dad know if we need anything else.”

“It is appreciated, Commissioner.” Damian inclined his head, and offered an arm back to Marinette. “We’ll be on our way.”

The walk to the hotel was silent. Damian guided her, and she seemed lost in her own head.

Until they reached the hotel. As they stepped through the doors, Marinette was torn from his arms by two blondes. He tensed, preparing to fight, until he realized that Marinette was reaching back for them.

“How dare you, Dupain-Cheng! Have you even checked your phone? Do you know how worried we’ve been?” The blonde girl cried out. Damian, grateful he knew French, sat back to observe. “The whole city’s been talking about Scarecrow attacking the gardens, and you were there-“

“You really scared us, Mari,” the boy echoed, holding her tight. It took Damian all off half a moment to recognize him from the pictures Jon had shown him as his friend’s soulmate. How interesting.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Marinette consoled them. “Look, see, I’m okay-“

“You’re covered in BLOOD,” the girl screeched.

“Not mine,” Marinette insisted, “I’m perfectly unharmed-“

“Who’s this?”

Jon’s soulmate was looking at him. He’d spoken the last words in English. Marinette turned back to look at him apologetically as the girl also cast her eyes his way.

“I’m Damian,” He intoned. “Though I’m certain you both already know that.”

“This is Chloé, and I’m Adrien,” Adrien grinned at him, looking as smug as the cat that caught the canary.

Chloé sniffed. “We’re important people, Adrien. Last names. We’re Chloé Bourgeois and Adrien Agreste, Damian.”

Marinette, for her part, looked exasperated and was turning pink. “Guys, please-“

“It’s important that he knows who he’s up against if he does anything,” Chloé steamrolled on over Marinette’s protestations. “Rich boy or not, Marinette’s got us in her corner. And I’m not above using my superpowers to get revenge.”

“Alright, Queen Bee,” Adrien rolled his eyes, and very suddenly Damian realized that the bossy, screechy girl hanging off of his soulmate was one of the elusive heroes that Tim had spoken about last night.

“Enough.” Marinette’s voice cut across them, and Damian turned back to her. She looked at Damian in return, assessing, almost waiting.

“I’d like to spend more time with you, if you aren’t too worn out by all the excitement,” he found himself offering.

And he was rewarded by her bright smile. “I’d like that, too. Adrien, Chloé, I’m going to change, and you aren’t allowed to be your usual brat selves until I get back. Play nice.”

She walked away, and Damian was left staring after her. He’d found himself in turns very wary, very interested, and very awestruck by Marinette, and it was honestly something like how he thought a spinning top might feel, constantly unsure of how he would land.

Very disconcerting.

“She’s always like this,” Adrien advised, still grinning smugly as he clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll just have to learn to live with it.”

“Hmph,” Chloé moved so that she was leaning on Damian. He fought the urge to shove both her and Adrien away, possibly with some actual force. At this point not only was it in his best interest to play nice with Marinette’s friends, but he was also entirely sure they were doing this to mess with him. “One would hope that a soulmate wouldn’t just learn to live with something, but rather enjoy these things about their soulmate.”

“You can’t stand that Kagami will drink her coffee after it cools,” Adrien shot back. “There are things that you can dislike about your soulmate.”

“Not for Marinette.”

The tone of their conversation had become dangerously serious, and both blondes were still practically hanging off either side of him, conversing around him as if he were a particularly in the way wall. They were still in the lobby of the hotel, though he appreciated that their voices stayed low despite their- enthusiasm.

Damian stayed silent.

“No,” Adrien agreed slowly. “Not for Marinette. What say you, Damian?”

“I am not entirely certain what I would be agreeing to, honestly.” Damian wasn’t sure which of them he was supposed to be looking at, but they were both doing their best to stare straight into him. “I am also mostly certain that Marinette would consider this as you being your usual brat selves, as she put it.”

“Hmm,” Chloé squinted at him. “Rich boy’s got some bark. What about bite?”

“Rich boy kept Mari safe during a villain attack,” Adrien pointed out. “So he’s not useless. Also, rich boy? I’m rich. You’re rich. Was it supposed to be an insult?”

“Oh, Adrikins,” Chloé pouted. “Don’t play dumb. We’re rich, but neither of us is anywhere near Wayne Rich.”

“This is utterly ridiculous.” Damian finally pulled himself out of their grasps, though he notices neither of them so much as wobbles as they deal with the sudden imbalance. “If you two will not reign in whatever inane urges you have to bother me, I will simply wait for Marinette somewhere else.”

Adrien stood up again, shaking imaginary dust off of himself. “Alright, alright. Cool it, Chloé, he wasn’t a pushover or too rude towards us.”

Chloé was still glaring towards him. “Well. He’s passed the first test, at least. The jury is still out, especially since he hasn’t met Kagami or Luka, yet.”

“If you could stop threatening him, for two seconds!” Marinette dashed back over, and Damian had to keep his jaw from dropping. She’d been stunningly pretty in an innocent way, in the floral dress before, but now she was-

Well. She was gorgeous.

Her hair was down, damp but loosely wavy. She’d put on dark jeans and a pink top that shimmered with each movement, a scooped neckline that only just concealed where he now knew his name sat curled over her shoulder. She had a dark lump over one arm, and he assumed it would be a light jacket until she shook it out and revealed a triangular black shawl. In a second she had draped it artfully over her shoulders, completing the look.

“Disgustingly pretty as always,” Chloé sneered, but Damian caught the way the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile.

“So, Damian, what do you suggest we do?” Marinette ignored her friends, securing his arm again, and he let her. It felt normal now, the way the low buzz settled into his bones with the contact.

He gave Chloé and Adrien one last look before following her lead and ignoring them, turning her towards the door. “I intended to take you to lunch, if you would allow me. After your first official villain attack, I would like to show you some of the better aspects of Gotham.”

She gave him the same bright smile, and he felt like he was finally starting to understand why all it took was looking at Kori for Dick to start grinning sappily. He smiled back. His entire reputation as being haughty, angry and stoic was going to fall to shambles the moment anyone ever saw her with him. He resolved himself to being made fun of by his entire family for weeks, if not months.

TAGLIST:

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[the-prince-and-the-smith]

Virgil straightened his best vest, having put on his best clothes for this visit. He made sure his bag contained everything he’d need and headed off to the castle. The guards at the gate let him pass easily. He arrived at the door and was ushered inside. Logan met him near the door.

“Master Smith, I thank you for taking the time to come here.”

Virgil nodded, a smile twisting his lips. “It’s an honor, Your Highness.”

“Please, just call me Logan.” He began walking, Virgil falling into step beside him. “Now, I was thinking more on those bookends. Is there any way you can make a set that would tell a story?”

Virgil nodded, feeling the length of the day start dragging on his mind but attempting to stay awake long enough to coherently converse with his customer. “That would depend on the complexity of the story.”

They stopped at a room with light wood paneling and windows that kept the room bright. Virgil’s eyes were drawn to the metal work trimmings, the cups and quills lining the desk, the craftsmanship of the handles, and the familiar bookends sitting on the shelves. Logan moved around him and pulled a book off the shelf. “I was hoping to get some bookends that matched the descriptions of characters in this book. Is that doable?”

Virgil took the book, paging through it to see if he’d read it before. He hadn’t read it so he scanned the back. “I’d have to borrow it for a few days to read it over to grasp the story but I do believe it would be doable. Do you have a particular scene in mind?”

Logan nodded and gently took the book back, their hands brushing as he did. Virgil was suddenly grateful he’d remembered to clean up a bit before he left. The prince paged through it and came to a stop about half way through. “This part’s my favorite, when they both realize they love each other.”

Virgil read over the scene, of the perspective character painting while his love interest watched the sky, legs dangling over the cliff. “This is really pretty. Yeah, I think I can do that.”

They discussed how the piece would look for another half hour. Virgil enjoyed the prospect to work with silver, something he rarely did as most of his customers wanted his black or brown smithing abilities. At the end of the discussion, Virgil was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Logan let him take the book, Jewel of the Sea, back with him to keep the scene and description of the characters.

When Virgil was told the meeting was over and he could go home, he hadn’t realized just how late it had gotten. He’d been having such a nice time talking with Logan that he’d lost track of the hour and probably kept him from his duties longer than he should have. He expressed that worry as they walked to the front entrance.

Logan just laughed. “No, I actually enjoyed the time spent with you, Master Smith. If it went over an appropriate length of time, the fault would have fallen on me for not keeping the visit strictly business.”

Virgil almost wished they’d strayed from business, startling at the intensity of the thought and the feelings of butterflies that came with it. Still, he was able to converse coherently with the crown prince until he left. Miraculously, he managed to stay on his feet all the way home, only realizing what had the prince smiling through their whole encounter when he saw his reflection in the water bucket. He’d had soot from the forge under his eyes, causing him to look like a panda with the hard line from his goggles.

He groaned and fell face first into bed, wishing the mattress would simply swallow him whole and he wouldn’t have to face the world in the morning. Alas, the mattress did nothing besides support his weight and he still had to get up with the dawn to prepare the forges.

~~~~~~

Logan spent another half hour in his study, making plans and updating his ledgers, before going to dinner with his family. They discussed Logan’s latest business ventures, Father teased him just the slightest bit for his attention to the Master Smith, and Patton remained strangely quiet.

When Logan asked him what was wrong, Patton told them about the missing letters. Logan suggested that they might just be slower than usual but Father suspected foul play and made a note to discuss it with Advisor Emile the next morning.

Logan went to bed, his last thought being how nice Virgil Arrowwood was to talk to.

~~~~~~~

Thomas went to bed an hour or so after the evening meal, his day having been busy with missives from other countries asking for his sons to court their children, matters of his subjects well being, and trying to find a way to see a smile on both sons’ faces once again.

It was hard, ruling a country alone. The rulers of Faurom had it right, he mused as he slipped into bed, there should never be just one ruler. Two were needed to evenly share the burden of decisions that affect a whole kingdom.

~~~~~~~

Patton laid awake that night, wondering if what Father had said about bandits on the roads could be true. If so, how many people were being harmed and they had no knowledge of this? How many letters had been intercepted? He tried to think back, to see if he’d said anything sensitive in his letters, but couldn’t think of anything noteworthy at all.

He fell into a fitful sleep that night, his dreams plagued with thoughts of death and bandits. In the early morning hours, he slipped into a more restful sleep as his dreams drifted to visions of his suitors, one in particular standing out amongst the rest. It seemed his heart had made a choice, even if his mind didn’t know it yet.

~~~~~~~

Roman was up late that night, pouring over military strategies and movements. Remy had come in sometime during his musings, leaving a cup of coffee and a reminder to sleep eventually in his wake. Still, the prince didn’t heed his advice. He looked over maps and past experiences with the roads to Kiena. The rising sun found him asleep at his desk, the cup empty and the papers only slightly scattered.

~~~~~~~

Remus hadn’t eaten much throughout the day so found himself in the kitchen a quarter after one, making a night time snack of pickles and onions. Remy soon joined him, sliding onto the counter.

“How’ve you been holding up lately, namesake?”

Remus chuckled. “I wasn’t named after you, you know.”

Remy nodded, hands curling around a tankard of a steaming drink Remus was too tired to guess. “Yeah, I do. It’s just more fun this way. Don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging the question, Your Highness.”

Remus grinned, tossing chopped onions onto a plate and grabbing the pickles. “I know.” He sighed, falling silent as he chopped the pickles. “I’m about as well as can be expected for someone who’s fighting his one brother for both a throne and a husband. My mind is in shambles and I’m not even sure if I want either of the things I’m fighting for or if I just want my brother to be my friend again instead of constantly having to see him as my combatant.”

Remy nodded. “That’s understandable. Maybe you should take a few days, go survive in the wilds for a few days on your own, think things through. Priorities are good to have.”

Remus barked a laugh. “Like I’d ever be allowed to do that. ‘Oh, yeah, by the way, Mom and Mother and Brother dearest, I’m just gonna go live like a bear for a few days, is that fine with everyone?’ Yeah, I can see their faces now.” He took a large bite of his noxious concoction, turning to face Remy. “Besides, Roman and I have an agreement that one of us is going to go to the Kiena ball that’s being held in a few weeks and the other is going to comb the road for bandits. Either one of those would give me time to think.”

“Combing the road for bandits, living like a bear, is there really a difference?” Remy joked, a twinkle in his eye.

Remus chuckled. “I guess there’s not much of a difference.” He picked up his plate and, nodding to Remy, went to his room.

He didn’t get much sleep that night, his mind too busy turning each piece of information over in an attempt to make some sense of it or put them in any logical order. 

~~~~~~

Virgil is open for questions

Logan is open for questions

Patton is open for questions

Thomas is open for questions

Roman is open for questions

Remus is open for questions

Emile is open for questions

Remy is open for questions

last ask | next ask

[seductresses-temple]

Every Little Thing He Does is Magic

This rambly little ficlet is dedicated to the most awesome Fandom Mom ever @dewitty1 ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜 I know it’s a few days late but HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! I hope you like this little bit of drarry that tumbled out of my mind and typed itself up on my phone. Many hugs to you!!!

Every Little Thing He Does is Magic

Pairing: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter

Rating: Teen? I suck at rating anything that isn’t Mature of Explicit lol

Warnings: N/A

Dating Post-War had been difficult. More difficult, anyhow, than Harry had anticipated. He thought things would have been better once Voldemort was gone. He wasn’t on the run anymore. He didn’t have the looming threat of someone/thing trying to kill him on an annual basis -for the most part. There were still a few stragglers left over from Voldemort’s reign of terror, somehow evading capture from the Auror’s. Even then, things in Harry’s life had calmed down considerably. Despite attending trials, helping to repair a very damaged Hogwarts, and eventually going back for the optional 8th year; Harry’s life had gained so sort of normalcy yet his love life was in shambles.

From living under the Dursley’s strict, narrow-minded view of what was normal, to finding out he was a wizard, and then finding out he was the Chosen One; Harry never really had an opportunity to explore his sexuality like the average teen. He had been with Ginny and for a long time that had felt right, great even, until after the war.

Suddenly nothing about them felt right anymore.

Suddenly nothing really felt right anymore.

There were parts of Harry that wished he could have blamed his and Ginny’s break up on his attraction to men. It would have been so much easier if it had just been a matter of him being gay and not like women at all, but that wasn’t it either. Pansexuality aside, something was just fundamentally different about Harry after the war. Something with his magic. It felt...alive, wild, untamable.

No matter what Harry tried to do, his magic felt like a life force: thrumming, pulsating, coursing through him and threatening to spill out at any moment. It was an inescapable feeling of self awareness that left every inch of him feeling saturated, electrified, and oh so, incredibly on edge. It was like destroying the Horcrux inside of him had broken a dam and every bit of him was flooded.

It was yet another thing that made Harry feel abnormal and ostracized, especially when it drove Ginny away. There was nothing quite as depressing drifting apart from the person you have feelings for and feeling helpless to stop it. The more Harry tried to ‘fix’ him, and fix him and Ginny, the worse it seemed to get. By the time she’d gotten drunk at one of the 8th year parties he constantly refused to go to and made out with Luna, Harry couldn’t even blame her. They decided to cut their losses and end it before they ended up resenting each other.

“Your magic is suffocating,” Ginny had said when they made the decision. She’d confessed that whether it was during sex, out on a date, or even just sleeping next to each other at night, Harry’s magic was like a crushing weight around her neck. Harry would never forget those words, would never forget watching the way Ginny moved so freely, so unencumbered once they broke up. It was hard to forget when he’d had to watch it happen with every person he tried to be with after her.

Until Draco came along….Harry couldn’t forget that either.

“Gnnf!” was the only noise Harry could make as he went crashing down into the snow, a blur of blonde and grey coming down with him.

“Fuck! I’m sorry,” an all too familiar voice was saying as he was quickly hauled to his feet.

Harry was fairly certain he had never heard anything so sympathetic come out of Malfoy’s mouth before but he didn’t have too long to dwell on it. Before Harry could even follow what was happening a large man came rushing toward them, wand drawn and pointed at Malfoy.

“They should have given you the Kiss along with your father, boy,” the man snarled, taking a step closer.

“Leave him alone,” like a man possessed, Harry moved between Malfoy and the stranger’s wand, magic already starting to radiate off his body.

“You stay out of it, boy!” the man spat, waving his wand around, and sounding far too much like uncle Vernon for Harry’s liking.

His magic felt like a sea at his command: powerful, fluid, and unrelenting. Harry waved an irritated hand, a wandless and wordless Expelliarmus sending the man’s wand careening off into the far distance.

“Good luck finding you wand,” Harry laughed, leaving behind a very distressed and sputtering wizard as he led off a very quiet, shivering Malfoy.

Maybe it was the fact that Harry still felt indebted to the git’s mother, or felt responsible for him since he’d spoken at Malfoy’s trial, or maybe that it was because Harry secretly thought Malfoy was fit, but whatever it was...something made Harry want to protect the little blonde arsehole. Harry had seen enough of fighting and as much as Harry thought Malfoy was a prat, they’d been kids, the war was over, and Harry would be damned if he’d sacrificed so much just to watch an adult that was probably older than both of them attack a kid.

“I could have protected myself,” Malfoy finally muttered after they were a considerable distance away.

“You’re welcome,” Harry rolled his eyes, feeling his magic crackling inside of him, spiking up with his annoyance. Only Malfoy could be so much of a git that he couldn’t even say thank you when Harry had just come to his rescue.

“I’m not some frail damsel in distress,” Malfoy added, stomping forward in the snow, teeth chattering slightly.

“You’re such an insufferable little shite,” Harry huffed, stomping forward in the snow until he was ahead of Malfoy.

“And you’ve got a fucking hero complex!” Malfoy snapped, stomping along until he’d passed Harry.

“Git! I should have left you to get your bollocks hexed off!” Despite the snow coming up well past his ankles, Harry was practically running through the snow, hell bent on not letting Malfoy beat him to the castle.

“Oh no, the almighty saviour would have left me to fend for myself!” Malfoy snorted, stopping dead in his tracks to reach down and chuck a snowball at Harry’s head.

Snow melting and creeping down his back, Harry turned on his heels, nearly skidding in the snow as he stopped to stare at Malfoy. His magic, his anger, all rolling inside of him like a tidal wave. He took a step closer and immediately saw Malfoy still, his breath hitching in his throat. The air around them felt thin as Harry marched forward, his magic feeling as if it were going to jump out of his skin and bury Malfoy alive in the snow.

“What, nothing to say now, Malfoy?” Harry taunted when they were face to face, their noses practically touching. He gave his magic a mental push, relishing in the way Malfoy’s knees buckled just a little.

Served the prat right, after all.

They stood like that for what felt like ages, Harry’s magic crashing over Malfoy repeatedly like waves against the shore, the two of them glaring at each other as they stood rooted in the snow. Neither of them wanted to be the first to look away. Neither of them wanted to be the first to back down. Until Malfoy’s hand was suddenly fisted in the front of Harry’s coat, his lips crashing against’ Harry’s. A tiny moan got lost between them and when Harry found himself slipping his tongue into Malfoy’s mouth, he wasn’t even sure who it had come from.

Prat.

Every time Harry thought he had Malfoy figured out, the git managed to surprise him.

That first kiss led to their first date. Malfoy quickly turned into Draco and Draco had -annoyingly- quickly captured Harry’s heart. He was the only one who could tolerate his magic, not only tolerate it, but seemed to genuinely enjoy it. Every time Harry though it was getting to be too much for Draco, Draco always managed to go toe-to-toe with him. While Harry’s magic was erratic and overbearing, Draco had a magic all his own. He had an unwavering ability to be completely unfazed by Harry’s power. It was exhilarating and before long, Harry had fallen fast and hard. Everyone thought they’d eventually crash and burn but Draco held tight to Harry, thriving where so many had crumpled before.  

“What are you doing up?” a sleep voice came from underneath the covers.

Harry moved the blankets back and stared down into Draco’s hazy grey eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. Draco always looked best in the morning with his messy hair and raspy voice, the way his eyes looked like they would slide shut again at any second, and the way he loved to cuddle close to Harry and convince him to go back to bed.

“I was thinking about how we got together, love,” he leaned down and placed a kiss to Draco’s hair.

“At the crack of dawn?” Draco sat up with a yawn, looking about the room. It was dark save for the glowing light of the telly that Harry had been watching on mute while he reminisced. Draco fumbled for his wand and cast a quick Tempus, immediately making a noise somewhere between a distressed whine and a disgruntled snort.

“It’s four in the morning, you nutter,” flopping back down into bed, Draco tugged at Harry’s arm until Harry slipped against the sheets and came crashing back against the pillows.

“Come to bed, Mr.Potter,” Draco grumbled, shuffling closer beneath the blankets until he was close enough to sling a leg over Harry’s and bury his face into the soft fabric of an incredibly worn yet still miraculously comfy Weasley jumper.

Smiling, Harry wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist, resting his cheek against a soft mound of blonde hair. “Whatever you say, Mr. Potter.” Harry settled down into the warmth of his plush bed beside the man who, much to everyone’s surprise -even Harry’s- had been his husband of nearly ten years. Warm, content, and at peace, he was able to sleep knowing that no matter how out of control his magic got, Draco was always there to tame the storm and keep them going strong.

[bapydemonprincess]

“I thought I almost lost you.” With Sebagni because that last one needed to be continued! :D

It had been only a couple days since the Khansama had miraculously survived his gruesome assault at the London house, but being bedridden and barely able to even sit up with all the wounds still slowly healing in his back, it felt like so so much longer. He lost track of the days. The hours. The minutes. It almost started to sour the khansama’s once kind and tender persona, rotting it and making it black and grim..

Of course he would never speak these thoughts, even to his dear friend who had been at his side every day and almost every hour of every day. Despite the mood, he still had his belief in being polite and good to those who deserved it.

Oh, and Sebastian Michaelis most definitely deserved it.

He would have bled out, he would’ve been lost forever, never ever to see his prince, Sebastian, to see the world and everything in it if not for the English servant.

So he owed him all of the kindness he did have left.

And would just simmer and keep all the gloom back.

This also meant he was still constantly tired, and so slept so much more now than he ever used to, even when he’d had the ability, the option to sleep as much as he wanted back in that old life. To laze about like a big fat, spoiled child.

But Sebastian reminded him when he’d try extra hard to wake up and get up more that “You need to rest as much as you can, Agni. Your body needs you to do this. Please.”

And he’d also never heard Sebastian plead with anyone before, but it was honest and truly a firm request. So how could he deny that, and from his dearest friend whom AGAIN he owed his life to.

But all this sleeping.. it wore him down, instead. Added to the darkness simmering.

He soon found himself curling away from the door, from any visitors, even if he was supposed to stay lying straight, and just pretended to sleep.

One time while doing this, Sebastian came quietly in, and soon Agni heard the man pouring something, likely refilling his glass of water that was always at the bed side.

But after that, he didn’t hear the butler walk away to leave him to rest in peace, like he usually did when Agni did sleep. No, this time, he heard the soft creek of someone sitting down.

And then.. nothing.

Agni mentally sighed. Now with Sebastian staying in the room, pretending to sleep would be extra hard..

“... I thought I almost lost you, Agni.”

The voice of Sebastian Michaelis hung in the air, though it held no power... it was surprisingly soft, and sounded careful-like.

Agni wasn’t sure if it was because the man was trying not to wake him or..

“I honestly haven’t the faintest idea what I would’ve done if... if you had passed. I have seen millions upon millions of souls die, but, I... I...”

The pause was longer, and there was a noise like someone breathing.. a gasp, almost. But it was so faint. The quietest gasp, the saddest gasp, Agni had ever heard.

“...I have never grieved for one.”

Suddenly, Agni’s chest was hurting almost as much as the stab wounds used to.

He still remained quiet, still remained completely still, but now for more than just to fake his slumber. He felt the need to... allow Sebastian this moment on his own. As if he knew instinctively that the man needed it.

There were soft huffs of breath in the quiet room, lingering, sounding shaken, and very... fragile.

And Agni remained in his fake sleep position still, though a part of him was growing. A part that wanted to turn, to leap, to HOLD!

“Dammit..” The butler was choking out, sounding like there was some anger getting mixed up in everything else. “God.. damn it.” The last part sounding gritted through teeth.

“... Sebastian?” Agni finally spoke, as he just could not take it any longer.

He tried his best to roll back over and face him, and instantly, the man was up, and trying to reach out and help the injured khansama in his time of need.

“I- I am here, Agni. I am so sorry for.. bothering you.” Sebastian was quickly telling him, his words rushed and soft, as if trying to hush and calm the other man.. when he was the one who nearly sounded to be in shambles now, and when Agni could look into his face, there was proof even if barely, as those gleaming red eyes were not gleaming in the same way they always had.

“No, no you were not, my.. my dear friend.” Agni said, staring up at Sebastian Michaelis and unable to look away now even for a second. “You most certainly were not bothering me. Nor will you ever.”

“Ah-” Sebastian straightened and smiled, quickly putting a fist to his lips and clearing his throat. A unique color blossomed in his high cheeks then, a pink Agni had only seen before in the soft petals of cherry blossoms. “But I am sorry all the same. I merely came to.. refill your glass. That is all. I will leave you to your rest now.” And he began to turn away.

“Sebastian, don’t!” Agni called out immediately, shooting out a hand. “Please.. don’t leave.”

The butler only turned slightly back, that.. strange new hesitance shining through that Agni was sure had never been there before.

“But.. you need your rest, Agni. More so now than-”

“I don’t want to sleep, Sebastian.”

And suddenly that aggressive blackness was peeking out. Even if only a second or two... before Agni simmered.. and breathed.

“I do want to get better, and I know perfectly well that it will take lots of time, but..” He looked up into Sebastian’s face imploringly. “Please, as my dearest friend, help me heal in more ways than this.”

Sebastian stared at the Khansama in the bed. They stared at each other a very long time, it seemed. As if silently saying more than they had outloud.

I am merely one hell of a butler to the earl phantomhive, I am only doing my job...

You are more than this and I know it, and I need it. I heard you just now. I heard you finally letting that side of you show. Please. Please Sebastian.. 

You do not know what you are asking.. I do not know what you asking...

Yes you do.

....

“Well...” Sebastian finally spoke aloud, and took a deep breath in, and then out. Almost like a sigh, but also as if he was preparing himself. “I could try to look into some types of healing that would help you get to move more; get out of bed. Gradually. Very, very slowly. And then begin walking and stretching so your form can improve, and...” the man’s lips started to turn up.. “You can return to all your former glory.”

Agni finally let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d started holding at one point.

“... Thank you, Sebastian. Thank you so much.” He reached out, one hand lifting and opening.

Sebastian hesitated... before reaching out with his hand too, expecting to officialize this plan with a handshake or some such.

He was definitely not prepared for Agni to pull on his hand, pull him closer, and then lift Sebastian’s gloved hand to his lips, kissing it so tenderly. Eyes closing and mouth moving over white clothed knuckles.

Sebastian was mute. He could not speak. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to for a good while as the image remained in his mind of this human.. this single human being... kissing a demon’s hand as if in worship.

And all after he’d just come in to check on him, to find Agni turned away in a familiar position of not wanting anyone or anything near, clearly faking sleep even, and decided (stupidly, he now assumed) it would be a good chance to pretend Agni was asleep as he confessed to something he had been feeling so strongly for the passed few days that it had tortured and gnawed at him.

“Think nothing of it, Agni.” He finally managed. “If I couldn’t do this much for.. you, my only friend, then.. what kind of person would I be?”

[official-impravidus]

Gifted: A Miraculous Ladybug Fan Fic - Chapter 1

The young dark haired girl stared with her bright blue eyes at the tall blonde man spoke on the phone.

“It’s astonishing. She survived the blast, even though the bakery was in shambles. The parents? Oh, long gone. It’s not like anyone will be looking for her either. With the destruction from the bomb, they’ll all just assume she’s dead too.” The man looked down at the small girl. “I’ve got to go. She’s awake.” He approached her, and crouched down to get to her level. “Hi there. You can call me Hawkmoth. I’m gonna be taking care of you now. What’s your name?” The small girl frowned.

“Mawi-Mawinette.” He tsked as he shook his head.

“I”m gonna call you Ladybug from now on. Okay?” She furrowed her brows.

“Where maman? Papa?” He sighed.

“Maman and Papa went away for a while. I’m gonna be like your papa now.” He ran his fingers through her dark hair and turned to his workers.

“Take her to her room now.” They nodded and led her to the place she would learn to detest.

Marinette took a look around the room. The walls were plain white, a large mirror on the wall with the door. There was a bed and a toilet and a desk, but nothing else.

“Teddy!” she called out. She looked under the bed and under the pillow with no prevail. Her lip starting to quiver. “Teddy!” She ripped off the bed sheets, again, no prevail. Tears started forming in her bluebell eyes. “Teddy! Teddy! Teddy!” She stomped as she yelled. She sat on the ground, sobbing. The young girl was far from home, far from her family, and she needed her teddy. Suddenly her hands began to glow with red and her teddy appeared in her hands. She looked up at the stuffed animal and smiled, hugging it tight.

Gabriel Agreste leaned forward in his chair on the other side of the one way glass, taking off his glasses in disbelief.

“Astonishing.” He typed notes into his computer and got up, entering the room.

He went up to the young Marinette who sat on her bed, playing with her teddy, with a series of pictures. Pictures of explosives.

“Hello Ladybug. Does this look familiar?” He held up a photo of a grenade. She thought long and hard at the picture, but she didn’t recognize the image. She shook her head no. “Okay. That’s okay. What about this one?” She thought hard again and shook her head no. He went through all of the photos but she didn’t recognize anything. He didn’t understand. Then suddenly, it came to him. He took out a pen and drew a circle with a squiggly line coming from the top. She giggled.

“Boom boom! Pshew pshew!” She used her hands and made grand gestures with them. Then, coming out of her hand with a bright red glow was a cartoon like bomb. Gabriel stood up quickly, alarmed.

“Gorilla! Please rid of this safely. We’ve confirmed our suspicions. She has the gift.”

When she was younger, Marinette would listen to the grown-ups talking, even though she didn’t really understand what they were talking about. She could hear them from inside of her room. As she got older, she started to get tired of trying to understand what was going on, and got used to the routine.

Everyday, the man with the glasses would come in and would try to get her to create things with her hands. Sometimes she could, but mostly she couldn’t. She only did it when she was really emotional or had all her energy. But, as the days went on, she lost her energy. She was exhausted, lonely, and tired of having to work with Hawkmoth.

The older she got, the more her vague memories of a life before Hawkmoth faded away. All she knew was her room.

The lady with the red streak in her hair would bring her meals and take her to take showers and to work with Hawkmoth. She never talked to her, but Marinette felt safer with her than she did with the blonde man.

Sometimes, Marinette would see a blonde boy around the training room. He would watch and take notes. He wouldn’t say much, he would just be there.

They grew up together, and she learned that he was the son of Hawkmoth. At first, she despised him. She figured he was just like his father, just there to make her work all day.

But, when his father wasn’t around, he talked to her through the glass. She couldn’t see him, but she could hear his voice. He would tell her about what Nathalie taught him that day. She could never go to school because she would never leave the AKUMA Institution. But, the blonde boy would make her quiet days a little less quiet.

“And there’s this thing called photosynthesis that makes plants grow.” Marinette’s face scrunched in confusion.

“What’s a plant?” Adrien looked through the glass at the bewildered girl.

“You don’t know what plants are?” She shook her head.

“No. What are they?” He scooted his rollie chair closer to the glass.

“They’re green. Well, they’re not always green, but they grow. Like humans, but they’re not alive. Well, they are alive, but they don’t breathe. Well they breathe in their own way. They make oxygen for us to breathe.” She looked out to the mirror, knowing she can’t see him, but still wanting to look to him.

“Are they like dogs?” He shook his head.

“No they’re like… uh… I don’t know how to explain this.” He went to the computer and printed out pictures of all different plants. Ferns and trees and flowers. All of the things he saw everyday. He then took the papers and slid them under the door. “They look like this.” She looked at them for a long time. She then crouched down to the floor and held her hands out. Growing throughout the room was grass and flowers blooming from the ground. The blonde boy took in a deep breath of awe.

“Wow. That’s amazing.” Before he could say anything else, his father entered. He immediately changed the way he acted, sitting straighter, moving away from the room. “Father. She has taken the next step of her training.” He nodded.

“Great job, Adrien. Well done.”

Sometimes Marinette knew how to feel about Adrien. Other times she didn’t know at all. Some moments he was so sweet. She could hear him smile in the way he spoke. She heard his beautiful laugh and he taught her all the things that she couldn’t truly understand. Then other moments, he had a stoic look on his face as he got frustrated with her for not creating anything or not doing more. But he only acted that way when Hawkmoth was around. She didn’t know what was the real him. However, that’s all she knew. All she knew was the AKUMA Institution, and Hawkmoth, and the blonde boy that could make her smile.

At age thirteen, Marinette sat in her room, shaking with anxiety. She couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t take the abuse and the exhaustion and the strain it took to create anymore. She was giving up. In her shaky hand, she created a gun; one that she saw the guards have in their holsters when she would pass by the exits on her way to training. She took a deep breath and accidentally let out a loud sob as she cried.

Adrien looked up from his book and looked away, not fully understanding the situation. Suddenly he snapped up to see what was happening before his eyes. The world moved in slow motion as he typed in the entry code to her room, and threw the gun across the room. He held her tight as the tears stained his shirt, and he stroked her hair. He slowly went down so they were sitting on the floor, her head resting on his chest as she cried.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m here.” He shushed and whispered quietly, not sure what to tell her to feel better. She tried to push away. At the moment, things were tense between her and Adrien. The side to him that he was around his father had become a more common thing, and she had concluded that that was the real him. She knew that he didn’t truly care about her. That she was just an experiment, and he was keeping her alive to keep experimenting on her. But something in him really cared about her, and didn’t want anything to happen to her.After that, she was on constant surveillance. All of the guards would take shifts constantly watching Marinette. Making sure she didn’t try anything like that again. And she didn’t. She just laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling, not saying anything. She was broken, and tired, and alone, because no one was like her. At least, not that she knew of yet.