#i mean i guess slight change to their bang but i dont count that

[ghstmsk]

old vs new of the character i redrew for OCtober. I definitely think these are what ended up slowing me down the most so i'll probably reduce the amount I do next year

[dontbeunraisonable]

Little Yellow Flower - Kaminari Denki x GN!Reader

This was a request from my one of my darling amigas who is not on tumblr. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1754

Warnings: swearing i guess, one (1) bad pick up line

Denki has to be the most dense person you have ever met in your life. The first day of class he was “laying on the charm”, showering compliments and offering to show you around the school even though you were both first years and he got lost looking for the bathroom.

The compliments were about anything from your eyes to your smile to the way you wrote your notes to the way you tied your tie. The dedication and attention was endearing. So, naturally, you flirted back.

You talked about how cute his smile is, how his training has improved his quirk, how funny he could be, his hair. You reverse uno card his ass and started using cheesy pick up lines.

“It’s handy I have my library card with me,” you said, jokingly lowering your invisible sunglasses,” ‘cause I’m definitely checking you out.”

A bunch of third years shushed you two as you both cracked up while (pretending to be) studying in the library. But it was worth the glares, as his giggling was the most wonderful thing you had ever heard in your life.

You always paired up with him for group projects, even though he sucks at them, just to have an excuse to sit with him and hang out one-on-one. Because you guys definitely did not work hard on those projects.

Unfortunately, he seemed oblivious to the fact that you liked him. So you slowly came to the conclusion that all his joking around was just that: jokes. You weren’t hurt or offended, as flirting between friends wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t leading you on or anything, you had just misread his intentions.

You just continued your flirtatiousness, but wondered if your conclusion changed your behaviour unknowingly. Were you flirting too often now? Too infrequently? Would he notice if there was a difference?

Luckily for you, Denki did not notice, as he was coming to the same conclusion to you, and was worrying about the same things. What if all his flirting just looked like joking around between two friends? That’s how it began, just goofing around with a cute classmate, but somewhere along the line, he realized that he actually did have feelings for his best friend.

No one noticed the new tension between the two of you, and each of you were hoping it was just your imagination that things were more awkward.

That brings us up to now, where you are currently herding a brain-dead Denki out of the training grounds. You weren’t sure why Aizawa Sensei kept putting you two together, but neither of you were complaining.

Today had been more combat training, and Denki had stayed intact for a while, but at the end he decided to go out with a bang. He did well, but now you had to drag his ass back to the locker rooms. You held his hand and slowly led him. He was babbling and wiggling around, getting distracted by everything. You were never letting Sensei assign you the farthest training spot again. You didn’t have a particularly short fuse, but damn were you impatient to go and take a shower and get a snack. You were both covered in sweat, and your gym uniform was sticky. This was not a hot moment for you.

Denki somehow slipped his hand out of your grasp and bent down to grab something off the ground. You turned to him tiredly, wondering if he was gonna pick up a bug, debating which was worse: him shoving it in your face or him trying to eat it.

“Hey,” you sighed, tapping his shoulder, “can we keep going I really wanna-”

You were cut off by a small flower being shoved in your face. It was a little yellow flower, one that came from a weed that had sprung up in a crack in the sidewalk. He dropped it in your hands and bounced off, the idea of a snack finally permeating his thick skull and entering his brain.

“Alright”, you thought. “That’s it.”

You caught up to the bouncing fool, and when he paused to giggle “wheyyy”, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. All you could taste was his sweat, and you think you might have smashed your nose in a bit too hard. But that giggle of his erased the worries from your mind, and the two of you continued on.

That night, after a nice shower and plenty of food, you were working on homework. You had procrastinated on an assignment rather skillfully, and now you had to really pound this one out or you’d be screwed.

But your brain was a little busy at the moment. He was brain dead, so he surely wouldn’t remember the lil cheek smooch right? Right? God, you hoped so. How could you play that one off as just joking around? ‘Haha yeah you don't kiss your homies? Huh weird haha sorry bout that man’. That is not convincing in the least!

No matter how many times you looked at your mathematics book, your mind replayed his cute little giggle. The yellow flower was sitting on your desk.

You prayed that this wouldn’t hurt your friendship.

Your phone buzzed, waking you from your daydreams. Denki had texted you.

“Ayo you busy? I dont wanna do english”

You hadn’t seen him since you got back to the locker rooms, as you kept missing each other, and the fact that he didn’t seem to text any different assured you that he had no idea what happened.

“No come on over. I dont wanna do maths”

A few minutes later you heard him at your door. “Hello?” he called out in the highest possible falsetto.

“Hello,” you said in your most intimidating and deep voice.

He opened the door, peeking his head through with a weird smile on his face. You mimicked him, flashing him your worst smile. He closed the door behind him and flopped onto your bed.

“I think Mic Sensei wants me dead. I can’t memorize vocab to save my life and he gave us homophones. The quiz is in two days and I have decided to quit hero school and become a professional gamer.”

“With your aim? You’re better off staying in school, my guy.”

He wiped fake tears from his face, and suddenly noticed the flower of honor on your desk. A slight rush of heat went to the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden from your view. But you still noticed his pause.

He turned to face you, his look falling from your face to your hands. “So,” he said, a new hesitancy in his words, “are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

You looked at the elephant shaped eraser in your hand. “You got something to say about my eraser, you snob? This is a wonderful eraser and it doesn’t have those weird smudgy things like your nasty one does.”

Denki snorted. “No, I’m sure your eraser is amazing. I meant… you know, what happened earlier? After training?”

Your heart stopped. “Oh. Right. That.”

You looked away from him and nervously scratched at the back of your neck. You had almost convinced yourself that you were okay. But you had been a fool.

“Did you,” Denki quietly spoke up, “mean something by it?”

You avoided his gaze. “Would you be upset if I did?”

A slight smile graced his features. “No, of course not. I just want to know if you… ya know, felt the same way?”

Cue the buffering symbol on your forehead. “The same way,” you repeat to yourself, unwittingly aloud.

“Yeah. Do you, like, like me, or something?”

You turned to face him, your scratching hand falling to your lap. “Yeah. Yes, I do like you. In a more than friend way.”

A large, contagious grin split across his face. Your own mouth followed suit, beaming at the boy sitting with you. A giggle echoed through the room, gracing your ears.

“You really do like me? You’re such a nerd!” He fell back on your bed, poking your leg. Then he sat up again. “Why didn’t you tell me? I sat here thinking it was just me.”

“Why didn’t I tell you? Why didn’t you tell me?” you accused, poking his chest in revenge.

You two continued poking each other, accusing the other of being an idiot. Finally, Denki pulled your hands into his lap, and he leaned in towards you.

“Can we… kiss for real, now? Is that okay with you?”

You nodded, but neither of you moved. Then both of you cracked up realizing that neither of you knew what you were doing.

“Okay,” you said, “I am going to hold still, and you…”

“Mm.”

He leaned in slowly, and you closed your eyes. He softly pressed his slightly puckered lips against yours, and held them there for a few seconds before pulling away a few inches. You leaned forward again to meet his lips, and pressed a series of soft butterfly kisses to his lips. You both pulled away, trying to catch your breaths.

Your eyes opened again, and you could see that his face was bright red.

He wrenched his hands from yours and slapped them over his face. Another giggle left his lips, and you reached out to pull his hands away.

“Ai!”

A little zap shot through your hand when you touched him. He looked at you in worry.

“Oh shit, are you okay? I didn’t mean to zap you! Did it hurt? I-”

“Bro, shut up, it was just a little zap. I’m fine. It wasn’t like the damn playground slides that could kill someone.”

He calmed down and rubbed your hands apologetically.

“Wait,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Are you still gonna call me bro? We kinda just kissed.”

“I don’t know. Can we kiss more?”

He crawled closer to you, moving the maths book out of the way. He froze a little, then placed his hand tentatively on your shoulders. You leaned into him and met his lips with yours.

You two spent almost half an hour kissing, soft little pecks, slowly gaining confidence in what you were doing. Slowly getting used to the feeling of the other. Slowly learning what the other liked.

From then on, any time you two were alone or far from the group, soft kisses were exchanged. His arm was looped through yours any time you walked together, and his ears were almost permanently tinted red when you were near.

Posted 2020 December 1

[junquisite]

You just can’t get enough - The end

WORD COUNT : 2.7K

WARNING : Mature. Nothing sexual but can be triggering for few. Dream Manipulation, Implied murders, Manipulation.

GENRE : Supernatural AU, Goblin! Junhee X OC

This is written after much insistence for a follow up but in no way does this end happy. It has an open ending but in no way can be interpreted as happy. If you liked the first part and how it ended, maybe not read this.

PART 1

To avoid any confusion, the italic are her own thoughts. 

It was dark. Nothing unlike her dreams but was she actually supposed to be dreaming? It felt too real to be a mere dream as she looked around the darkness. The last thing she remembered was going to the club of Donghun’s friend..a fire? and actually seeing him amidst it all?

As if her dream was out of her own control and more like a movie, she found herself in a room. A bedroom to be exact. It was furnished with pictures of a couple and the man vaguely looked familiar to her. Then there was a lady, sitting on the bed, crying, cursing someone. She tried to walk towards ehr and maybe comfort her but she could not  move, so she stayed where she was.

A velvety sound filled the air as she felt a shiver run down her spine, it was the same voice as her dreams - the guy - Junhee. 

“I can do whatever you dream of - make that man suffer - make him regret ever hurting you at a very small cost. Don’t you wanna see that?” he almost purred, softly taking a seat beside her as she looked at his face- he looked the same as she saw him in the party. Where was she?

The lady looked up at him with red rimmed eyes as if she was surprised to see him but also as if she was waiting for him as she nodded.

“A deal is a deal alright? You can't go back on your words - I'll take what I want then..” he spoke and the scene in front of her dissolved into smoke until it all went black again.

The next scene was of a dark room. She saw Donghun walking in to stare at Junhee who was lounging on the bed.

“You fed.” he observed and junhee smiled like a cheshire cat as he nodded.

“A lady was kind enough to give up her life to seek revenge upon a  man who left her for someone rich. Dont worry donghun-ah, you can take whatever we gain out of him.” 

This time the room change was quick - she saw a couple, the lady holding a small baby and she gasped. It was her parents - she could recognise them from the pictures now. A slight fear creeped in because he was the same man who had his pictures on the wall of the previous woman..that meant her father would die. She tried to remember - her mother died when she was very small and her father left her when she was slightly older. So now the question was how did it all went down.

She heard a door being smashed and in walked in a smirking Junhee followed by an unbothered looking Donghun. “Good day to you all!” Junhee said as her mother screamed and scurried behind her father, hiding her baby self tightly in her arms and her heart clenched. Something bad was about to happen.

She saw as Junhee settled himself on the couch and Donghun stood behind him, staring her parents down. She had never seen Donghun like that but then again, did she even knew him if he was not human?

She saw as his father questioned who they were and Junhee chuckled at it.

“3 years ago you left a woman to marry this one and she begged us to take revenge on you. So here we are. We’re here to end your life.” Junhee said with a huge grin mirrored by Donghun and she felt a cold shiver run down her own spine - she couldn't even imagine how scared her parents must be.

“I - i don't want to die..” her father said and Junhee smiled as if he was expecting this response.

“Oh we know. But someone in this house has to die tonight. You can choose who to.” 

She saw everything as if going in slow motion and she could pinpoint the exact moment her dad decided - decided that her mother must die as he snatched her from her arms and pushed her in front of the two people.

Junhee chuckled as her mother, flustered, begged for holding her daughter, crying “Minji-ya!” and her father took her upstairs, leaving her mother struggling to get out of the vicious grip Junhee had around her arm.

“Time to go~” he sang and the scene vanished.

She was feeling nauseous. She wanted to stop - she didn't want to see anymore but a chuckle resounded in the darkness - she didn't have a choice.

Another scene set in her own house. It was her, about 10 years old. With horror she realised it was probably the night her father left, or did he? She was bidding her father goodnight and going upstairs as he was laying on the couch in front of the television. She recognised bottles of beer in front of him and she scrunched her face in disgust.

Instead of a bang this time, there was a slight poof! Sound from the kitchen and she saw as her father didn't even bat an eyelash at it. She wanted to scream at him.

As if on cue, in walked in both of them, Junhee smirking but this time Donghun was looking towards the stair going upwards, a slight worry on his face. It made her slightly happy.

“Did you missed us old man?” Junhee asked loudly as he snatched the remote laying on the table and switched the television off.

“Why are you back?”she saw her dad slur out,  clearly drunk and she felt a slight embarrassment settle in. 

“Because there was only so long that wife of yours could have sustained us. And as I told you before, we need to kill you.” junhee said, still spinning the remote control in his hand.

“But- but you said anyone can die?” her father asked.

“Yes, but i guess you can say.. I lied?” Junhee said and then laughed loudly, thoroughly enjoying it.

Again, she saw her father’s brain working at top speed even in the drunk haze, and she saw as it came to a decision - another sacrifice for his life.

“Take the kid! Take her. She’s upstairs, you can take her.” her father cried and she whimpered.

“Oh we will..” Junhee said as he nodded his head to Donghun who nodded in response and stared her father down.

“ I was promised I can have you.” Donghun said as he smirked, revealing sharp teeth and red glinting eyes as the scene darkened and she heard her father’s screams. Before she could sob, the room brightened up again, the house a mess but no blood in sight.

“We will come for the girl when she’ll be the perfect age - 21.” Junhee said as Donghun nodded and Junhee turned to leave.

“Let me leave a note for the girl lest she thinks her father died.” Donghun said as he started writing the note she remember finding the next day and she saw as Junhee looked at Donghun, amused.

“Why?”

“I don't want her to mourn such a man. He doesnt deserve a mourning.” Donghun looked in disgust where her father was sitting before and she remembered that letter saying he was leaving her to live on her own and not to look for him. The police tried for a bit but they never found him. She just found out why - because he never actually left.

The scene changed again and she was dreading it already. What would it be this time?

“Its time.” she heard Junhee’s voice and looked around. They were at the terrace of a huge building and Donghun nodded at him, eyes glinting red again. The scene changed again.

It was an office. Her office building, she realised with a jolt. She saw herself entering from the elevator, looking nervous and looking at her clothes she realised it was her first day. She saw Donghun in the cubicle he has been in since the start - the one in front of her. She saw he was looking at her and she felt uneasy. He was ready and here for her, then why did it take him 4 years? And for what? 

She saw her awkward self introducing herself to a smiling Donghun and remembered how flushed she was - an attractive coworker AND she would sit in front of him? She remembered feeling super blessed and lucky. Well how her feelings have changed now.

She saw herself leaving and watched as Donghun stared after her and whispered,

“The one you like the most

Because i’ll become all of that”

She heard him. Did he knew all along how attracted she was to him?

Another scene change and she was in the room she had only seen Donghun and Junhee in. Donghun had brown hair unlike the red one as the scene from her meeting him and she figured it was about a year after that.

“You fed.” Junhee murmured as he entered the room and Donghun nodded from the bed. “But not from her.” Junhee added and Donghun nodded again.

“Why.'' The question hung in the air as Donghun looked away from Junhee.

“I’m waiting for the right time.”

Scene change. It was slightly making her dizzy now. It was a hotel, the christmas party a few months ago, she recalled. She had drank too much and she still didn't remember much of what happened. Were the two men involved?

She saw as her drunk self excused herself from the people surrounding her and went into the hallways murmuring about looking for a washroom. She also saw Donghun leaving behind her and strangely, she could follow too, so she did.

She saw herself leaning in a dark hallway, it was way past midnight as she saw herself check the time on her phone,and then her drunk self took a couple deep breaths. Donghun came soon enough from the shadows and she happily leaned towards him, soon enough standing thanks to his hand around her waist. She was reminded of the club - how he didn't touch her at all and how much she craved it. Why was he touching her now?

She saw him lean down and herself strained to hear what he was saying, “The time is slipping away. I have to make up my mind.”  and he leaned into her neck, slightly nosing around until he came to her lips and kissed her.

She saw his eyes flashing red - and saw herself leaning even more as if her legs were giving out - but way too quickly he pulled back.

“I can't do it, I took too long, waited too long, I'm weak now.” and he turned around and left her in the hallway. Vaguely she heard him calling Eunbi and telling her where she was but she was confused.

Too long? Weak? What did he mean? What was going to happen now?

Another scene change and Donghun was angrily walking into the room as Junhee lounged on the bed.

“You're going into her dreams.” 

Junhee turned around and just smiled at him.

“4 years are soon to be over Donghun. Have you been so engrossed in your human life and her that you’d forgotten what that time period means to us? Soon I can claim her and she no longer would be yours.”

Donghun avoided his eyes.

Another scene change and it was bright. She was on the roadwalk and Donghun was walking. She turned around to see her walking in the opposite direction and figured it was the day of the accident - when she was sure she saw Junhee. If only had she turned around even once to look at Donghun, she would have seen Junhee. The end was coming close.

“She almost saw you.'' Donghun spoke as she saw Junhee joining him right beside him out of nowhere - the same golden shirt she saw him in in the club and imagined seeing him in. 

“I intended to show myself.”

“I invited her to the club.” Donghun said and Junhee looked at him, an amused smile on his face.

“Are you giving up?” Junhee asked, Donghun didn't respond.

Scene change and she was in the club. Donghun was at the bar and Junhee came to stand beside him.

“You know you stole her from me.” Donghun muttered and Junhee chuckled.

“Did I now? You were not making a move for years now. 4 to be exact. She was full game.” Junhee said, emphasising on 4.

“I won't blame you but the friend is mine.” Donghun said and she was scared. Eunbi? Why?

Junhee raised his hand in surrender and turned around to look at her who was looking for Donghun. She saw herself get up as she made eye contact with Junhee and saw as Donghun made her sit down - the eyes glinted royal blue this time.

The scene changed and she knew in her guts that it was the last. 

There was fire. And she saw herself walking through it towards Junhee as he smiled. Eunbi was thrashing but calmed down when she looked in Donghun’s eyes. She knew she was trapped but what about Eunbi? How is she now? Where was she? Was she okay?

The scene turned to black. Silence and black. But then a voice resounded.

“I think it's time you wake up, doll.”

As if she was drowning and finally found the surface, she sat up wherever she was and took a few deep breaths, finally she felt like she could breathe again and then she took a  look at her surroundings. With a chill she realised she was in the same room she had seen Junhee and Donghun both talk in and she frantically tried to get off and get away when she heard someone click their tongue.

“Leaving so soon doll?” and she turned around to see Junhee - only that his eyes were not his usual blue but red. She had figured enough it meant he wanted to feed but she didn't want that. Definitely no.

The door opened and Donghun walked in - eyes emotionless and face set in stone, eyes golden.

“Did you feed already?” Junhee asked him, ignoring her presence as he talked to him.

Donghun nodded. “Not as good as her though.” Donghun said as he shook his head towards her and she cowered in fear on the bed. Were they talking about Eunbi?

“Aah! forgot you have had a taste of her already.” Junhee said as he looked at her hungrily and she wondered if it was that kiss he stole from her at the party.

“Sad you couldn't feed more and had to work with the friend.” Junhee said, pointedly looking at her as he said it and she knew he purposely did it. He wanted to break her before doing whatever he wanted to.

“What are you both?” she whispered as both of their heads shot up to look at her.

“Wouldn't you like to know.” Junhee said and laughed loudly and she could not understand why it doubled up the fear inside her.

In a  blink she was off the bed and on his shoulder as she protested and hit him on his back but he stayed unbothered as he walked out of the room down the hallway. She tried to look at Donghun but he had turned his back at her.

They entered another room - it was white - pristine and she felt the first pang of panic hit her as he threw her on the bed - the only furniture in that room.

“Now doll, we can do this the easy way or the tough way depending on your squirming but you can't stop it so you might as well accept it.” he said as he turned around to lock the door.

“What are you..” she asked again, scared to ask but wanting to know.

“A goblin. A goblin who’s going to find out how you made Donghun so weak for you that he gave up.” he said as he slowly walked towards her - each stop somehow turning the room colder and she felt herself shiver involuntarily.

“But i won't give up. I'll go all the way.” he whispered as he crawled on the bed as she tried to crawl back to the corner when he caught her ankle and pulled her close,”You can't escape doll.” he said as he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her close, only to  whisper in her ear,

“You just can’t get enough.” 

[tyrantofthefirmament]

Shocking Revelations

It’s been many weeks since Starscream has made contact with Shockwave and... stolen a protoform from the Well of AllSparks. During that time he has been putting off broaching the subject with Knockout, and the more time has passed, the more impossible that conversation seems. Now he has to explain not only why he is working with Shockwave, but also why he failed to mention it. He has no intention of explaining either, at least not yet, but under stress and with a lack of sleep, things don’t always go as intended...

@ask-dr-knockout is in block quotes

Clack clack clack clack clack CLANG clack

SLAM!

Starscream did not take it well when his pacing took him over the loose piece of plating in front of the medbay and he startled himself out of his racing thoughts. Hence the dent in the wall. He now stood, venting, with his wings half lowered and rigidly held.

Every moment since he left Shockwave’s lab had made him more tense. He’d tried burying himself in work, but his thoughts kept returning to the tiny Seeker in the tank, with no one to keep Shockwave from indulging his curiosity on it. He’d decided to take a break, but flying only made him think of the Seekers Shockwave wanted to clone, and his break had turned to restless pacing, which led him here.

Growling in frustration, he turned to drag himself back toward his console. Construction teams didn’t check in with themselves, and he still had to arrange tomorrow’s supply movements from Tarn. Pit, he’d spent all night getting nothing done.

Not long after Starscreams violently loud expression of frustration came the abrupt sounds of a rushed transformation soon followed by a clang and thud before a muffled swear from the oposite side of the wall over powered the once quiet hum of the medical bay.

clunk Clunk CLUNK CLUNK CLUNK CLUNK!

VrrrWOOSH!

Footsteps aproached before the med bay doors cycled ubruptly wide open to reveal a pair of frowning dully lit halos.

Knockout looked around huffing as he rubbed at a fresh dent on his helm. His face wearing a recharge ridden scowel of discontent.

“Alright who is the wiseguy banging on my wall after hou-…!” Knockout cut of his speech that had most likely been meant for a underling or vehicon as his optics set sight on the cuprit to his painful awakening. His chest and shoulders instantly puffing up in suprise before his optics rew a bright angry red. Of all the childish… HE was supposed to know BETTER!

“STARSCREAM!! don’t you have any couth!” He glared stomping toward the other and pointing a finger into the silver mechs chest.

“Just because you repel recharge doesn’t mean the rest of us can! Just LOOK what you made me do! I thought for a moment the base was collapsing… again…” Knockout yelled in a harsh not so whisper gesturing to his slightly dented helm. “You made me transform out of recharge and hit my helm!” His voice mixed with a harsh static induced from his abruptly disrupted recharge and/or sleep deprived state.

“It’s not like this would have been the first semblance of a full recharge I was able to coax myself into after the horrors of what Soundwave and you absurdly acomplished!! You know… The same mech that resides just down the hall from me!” Knockout pointed out exasperated.

“That’s not even including the fact I have been working for the past week on analysis of Perceptor’s research! Intensive analysis!! The least you could do is keep it down but what do i wake to find… that you have oh so subtly put a dent in my wall!” He huffed grumpily… it was only after his own rant he noticed the angle of Starscream’s wings the clenched fist the tightly lifted shoulders… he backed up a bit…. away from Starscream and calmed his grumpy tone but only slightly. “What the scrap has gotten into you!” Knockout crossed his arms Glaring.

Starscream flinched when he heard Knockout coming, before whirling toward him with angrily flared wings. Oblivious to the irony, he motioned to the medic to keep his voice down, before he blinked, distracted.

“You recharge in alt mode?” The quiet question seemed to go unnoticed as Knockout continued his rant. Starscream didn’t appreciate this on top of everything else he was dealing with - couldn’t a mech stomp around his own base in the middle of the night without getting a full dressing down? He curled his talons into fists and stepped closer to Knockout, who finally shut up and backed off.

“Take a guess what’s gotten into me, Knockout! I’m trying to juggle a lot of different things right now, and as soon as I decided to take a break, your stupid floor panel practically tripped me! You thought the base was falling down? Really? Well the floor is certainly broken, so let’s add that to my to-do list!”

He thrashed his wings with finality and glared at Knockout. “Go back to bed so I can get some work done.”

“If I had to take a guess it be a sour mix of fuel and a long jaged staff up your-” He was interrupted by another harsh retort on Starscreams part.

Knockout steeled himself despite his instinct to shy away from the others claws when he was in this mood. But Given the past few months wether it was wise to do so or not he felt more confidant in expressing his distaste or opinions to the other.

“Oh and you think I am not! Do you know how many vehicons and crew repairs I have done in the past cycles all while balancing HQ repairs, ship repairs, this world changing research, AND scouting!” Knockout optics widened and he sputtered in offense as he placed a dramatic hand onto his chest before holding them out in exasperated explanation speaking in harsh angry whispers. “Look at my finish! I have bearly had time to buff myself Starscream!” He looked sad for a moment before his optics turned hard again.

“I dont know whats gotten into you tonight but YOU of all mechs should understand the concept of proper crew moral! It’s one thing putting up with your temper tantrums during the day fine! But a piece of loose paneling! this is unaceptable when your crew and only CMO is trying to get rest to work more efficiently for YOU!!” Static again filtered through his whisper as he forced the words.

Knockout huffed and sighed. “I do not appreciate being woken up for such a small pathetic reason!” He put his hands on his hips glaring at Starscream unrelenting.

Starscream thought his wings were up all the way, but he was mistaken. He flared them so wide they banged against his pauldrons, making himself look huge. “Oh, so I have one bad night and suddenly I’m bad for crew morale? What about my other bad nights? Is it fine as long as I stay in my quarters where no one can hear me? I was trying to get things done! Sorry you all have to put up with me!” His voice qualified only technically as a whisper - a harsh, rasping hiss that verged on the squeak he hated to admit he had when he was emotional. It wasn’t particularly quiet.

“The stupid loose paneling was just the last thing in a slew of scrap!” He raised his talons, not to scratch, but to enumerate all the things he was dealing with. No one pity partied as hard as him. He counted off each woe on his claws. “I’ve had to redo the construction schedule three times because of the rains. The old smelting factory in Tarn just caved in so that sets us back on supplies. I’ve got to step up repairs on the other ones. Soundwave is a ticking time bomb, as you’re oh so fond of reminding me. I’ve barely had time to think about finding Megatron and I don’t know if I can count on Soundwave when I do! I’m not having much trouble automating our radar based defenses without him, but it’s one more thing I have do myself, and it takes time we don’t have. Suddenly Shockwave’s dragged me into his schemes, and I’d rather train Phoenix but I’ve barely seen her. I can’t sleep, so I try to work, but yes, Knockout, it’s so pathetic to have a slightoverreaction to the slagging base being so dilapidated you can’t even walk thr-”

He suddenly stopped. He flicked a wing. Had he seriously said what he thought he just said? Maybe Knockout had tuned out his rant. He could hope…?

Knockout deflated a bit at Starscreams retort. “That’s not what I mea-” but Starscream continued cutting him off undaunted wich made Knockout irritable again.

Knockout huffed now tireing. much of his initial fight leaving him as his fatigue set in and oposed the prospect of continuing this verbal sparing match further. he rolled his optics shaking his helm at most of it now. Starscream always had to have the last word.

None of it had to do with the actual issue Knockout had with being woken up. all he realy wanted was some peace and quiet to recharge…. was that so much to ask?

He had half a mind to just tune out Starscream now and head for his room and deal with the others temper at his actions in the morning.

And that was just what he had been about to do as he was turning to walk away when his audials caught a terrifyingly familiar name uttered, one he had NEVER expected to be associated along with the rest of their team efforts…

Knockout paused as if he was thinking over if he had realy just heard the other correctly.

Suddenly he whipped back around his optics burning bright red all semblance of fatigue gone, replaced by a burning fury!

“SHOCKWAVE!…. SH- SHOCKWAVE!!!?? WHAT-” he stomped closer anger rattling his shoulders. “DID-” Stomp “YOU-” stomp stomp “DO!!”

Knockout latched onto the thin edges of Starscreams shoulder pauldrons and jirked the seeker down face to face with his porcelain furious visage.

“You said Shockwave!!! You mean the mech who invented PREDACONS! The mech who Whipped out VOS THAT SHOCKWAVE!! What about SHOCKWAVE!? Starscream!??” Ironically Knockout had betrayed his own peace and quiet as his voice reached for new hights.

Knockout released Starscream pushing him away as his own mix of anger, anxiety and fear took hold.

He began to pace not knowing what to do with his Flux of sudden emotions. In this situation normally he could keep his cool perhaps a bit better but this was too much, too sudden and he was too tired to deal with this now! his ventilation systems kicking into overdrive as he neered hyperventalation.

Why would Starscream put them all at such risk!?

Shockwave was a threat he was dangerious to all of them Soundwave had been bad enough but now this! Knockout tried to calm himself but failed for a moment as he held his helm from the onset of a panic attack while he paced Infront of Starscream. He could not believe this!! How could Starscream go behind his back! Wasn’t he supposed to consult him before making a decision like this!! Of course he was! His anger boiled anew.

Clank thunk thunk. CLANK

Knockout in his panic had tripped and almost fallen forward from the offending piece of flooring that had started this whole mess!

“St-pid peice-ofScrap!” He growled through clenched denta and plunged his sawblade into the floor cutting off the offending piece of scrap before chucking it unceremoniously down the hall before a watching Starscream.

A moment later Knockout spun around to again stare at Starscream and spent a few more vents managing to compose himself to a degree.

Once he felt composed he continued.

“Considering neither of us are going to be getting any recharge now…” Knockout spoke calmly despite himself. “Care to enlighten me on this matter too Starscream… since you saw fit not to consult me to begin with!!” His voice sharpened on the last few words.

He waited now forcing himself to calm down before he did something he regret and punch the other in the face that wouldn’t go over well…for either of them. Starscream wasn’t like Breakdown afterall where that might have made a proper point.

But just like Breakdown when he had went off and did something royaly idiotic.

Starscream also had PLENTY of explaining to do!

Starscream’s hopes rose just for a moment as Knockout turned to walk away. But then he paused and Starscream’s wings slowly sank.

Scrap.

He backpedalled as Knockout stormed toward him, flinching and shutting his eyes when he was grabbed. Fighting back didn’t occur to him - his mind was racing to come up with something to get himself out of trouble. Someone jerking his frame and yelling in his face made him scramble for something to appease, and long experience had conditioned him to resist bringing his claws to bear lest he make things worse for himself. “Knockout,” he whispered, opening one eye and motioning for him to be quiet.

He backed away farther when Knockout let go of him, looking around wildly in case anyone else heard them. Knockout might be angry, and he had reason to be, but there were Seekers in his team who would leave, if not kill him, if they heard he had let Shockwave live.

As he watched Knockout stomping around, his own sense of outrage flared back to life. Did he think he was stupid? That all those concerns weren’t ever present in his mind every time he talked to or looked at, or even thought about Shockwave?

He was afraid of Shockwave. But he needed what he could do, and… it was like old times… He really didn’t want to admit any of those things to Knockout. The longer he’d waited the harder it had been to come up with how he should tell him, until it was impossible. Because then he’d have to explain the delay, and face the accusations and berating.

Well now there was no more putting it off, but he still had nothing to say for himself. For a long moment he cast about for some way to begin at least. He snapped out if it when Knockout tripped and handily sawed the broken floor panel off. That was one way to do it, and it brought him enough vindication to defend himself when Knockout finally addressed him more calmly.

“I was going to tell you,” he huffed, drawing himself up. “Shockwave and I both monitor Decepticon channels, and naturally we found each other again. I had no intention of getting into any schemes with him when I asked a simple hypothetical question about the Well of AllSparks. No one here is a biologist. I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you about it, but I knew you’d react exactly like this.” He brushed himself off where Knockout had grabbed him. “You don’t make it easy.”

“Realy Starscream were you?…” He rolled his optics listening. The nagging feeling of hurt returning. Did he want to replace him as a confidant? No that was rediculous! Wasnt it… He squashed it down.

Starscream continued to explain how this had all come about.

“Otherwise what your saying is you contacted him first… Primus…”

Knockout had been in the middle of pinching the bridge of his helm praying to Primus for strenth when Starscream accused him.

His helm snaped back up and he turned it very slowly to glare, almost baffled at the others ludicay for a moment before he could even bring himself to retort.

“Excuse me?! … hah hah! Iiiii~ make things dificult! Do you even hear yourself! Just uhhg! Just get in the med bay Starscream.”

Knockout quickly padded the medical bay doors open. At the doors swishing open he pointed into the room to indicate he wanted to have this conversation in a more private environment. As he was sure Starscream did as well.

“Leaders first…” Knockout spat.

After calming he realised his reaction could very well initiate a few eavesdropping eradicons soon… of course it was Starscreams fault for droping this on him instead of consulting him first! But Still he sensed Starscreams worry now… they couldn’t risk it that would not be ideal given the subject matter.

Once inside and the doors closed Knockout crossed his arms.

“So I make things dificult do I…? And you don’t supose adding Shockwave to the mess sounds like a sure fire method?” Knockout huffed.

“…what’s going on Starscream, just tell me…” Knockout sighed. “Why in your right mind did you think it was a good idea to contact that psychopath.” His shoulders fell a bit as he fought back the fear and hurt seeping into his voice. His optics on the other hand shown a different story.

why didn’t you trust me…

Starscream glared at Knockout but allowed himself to be ushered into the medbay, ducking his wings only enough to clear the doorframe before flaring them again. Once inside he turned to face Knockout, arms crossed on his chestplate.

“For your information, Knockout, I didn’t contact him first. Well, not on purpose. I didn’t seek him out. It was a comms frequency on a Decepticon channel, like I always look for. Once I knew it was him I couldn’t exactly cut off the channel without trying to find out what he was up to.”

He flicked a wing. That would have been a reasonable time to inform Knockout about the contact, but that wasn’t what he’d done. “Obviously we both suspected each other, and we were both trying to size each other up and see where things stood now that Megatron is gone.” Another wing flick. “We both told very little, and that was that. A short time later though, I was wondering about a biology question, and not a medical one. A… well, one that I would classify as mad science. Who better to ask?”

There was a long pause as Starscream tried to think which the several things that had happened next would upset Knockout the least. None, probably. He shifted and straightened his wings before continuing.

“He called me back with what I thought was an answer to that hypothetical question, but he… tricked me.” The last bit was mumbled quickly and quietly, because now that he’d said it all out loud the whole thing sounded like he’d given Shockwave the idea and then played directly into his hands for an obvious mad scheme. That might have been what happened but it wasn’t on purpose. And he also didn’t exactly have a problem with how things had turned out. He glanced around, not meeting Knockout’s gaze.

“I didn’t tell you because it all just sort of happened and it happened quickly, and… In retrospect I should have.”

“Oh joy more mad science!!! And here I thought you got your fill with me!… Of course he tricked you!! It’s Shoooockwaaaave!!!” Knockout facepalmed with a mild clang.

Despite his internal desire to interrupt further he resigned to listening to Starscreams explanations.

“Yes you should have…”

Knockout tensed when he realised Starscream had not only been in contact but had been meeting with Shockwave no doubt repeatedly for some time from the way he described things.

Happening quickly his aft. Starscream was lieing. He recognized that twitch in his wings.

What kind of crazy biology experimenting was so important Starscream repeatedly risk his saftey and kept it from one of his only confidants?! No matter how interesting a experiment Shockwave presented… Starscream still had been brash and it terrified Knockout to think about the what ifs.

“Starscream…. let me ask you this…” Knockouts voice had calmed but his tone was still serious.

“What do you suppose~ we would have done if Shockwave had tried to pull something drastic against you?… it could have left us all vulnerable without any knowledge as to what could have happened to you!” Knockout was looking at the far off wall in thought while he spoke. As if staring into a ghostly image of his own past.

“You can take care of yourself, but you made youself unnecisarily vulnerable and by extension us, to his subterfuge without a plan B. Without backup.” He paused but for only a moment.

“-And did you consider he’s still in contact with Predaking too? You could be in grave danger every time you are around him.” Knockouts concern filtered into his tone before his voice became hard again.

“This isn’t just about you and that lonely quest for ambition anymore! You have a loyal team who shares your goal! You have Phoenix and the squadron to look after! Stop acting like none of us matter when I know you don’t feel that way!” Knockout yelled his shoulders trembling not unlike the number of times he had failed to hide away his grief.

“This… slag you pulled its, it’s just like your reckless political days on vos before you learned to delegate! Or do you still not trust me to do my job!” Knockout raised his hand to point to Starscream then at himself before his arms flung wide in exclamation.

“You know better! And… I know you don’t want to hear this from me of all mechs… but that’s EXACTLY why I’m here telling you! Because you don’t want to hear it!” He stepped closer looking up into Starscreams optics with firm resolve.

“Starscream, Your too important now to take risks like this! And we can’t help you if you won’t let us!” Knockout looked up defiantly. He knew Starscream was going to be angry at him for this but he had to do something.

Knockout would not allow this.

Regardless of his own insecurities, He wouldn’t stand by and lose another friend to a trecherious enemy because they made foolish, rash decisions!

Not again!

At one point he might not have cared but now?… it terrified him to think how close he- they all had come to that same circumstance all over again.

He wouldn’t let it happen again. even if he had to face down Starscreams wrath to make that point.

He braced himself but never broke eye contact.

Starscream found it very hard to keep his wings flared as all of Knockout’s warnings and accusations piled up on him, but he managed, rolling the building hurt into his anger and focusing it all into maintaining his glare at the medic. At the mention of Predaking his hands began to shake, and when Knockout brought Phoenix into it he clenched his fists so tightly that Energon beaded up on his wrists.

“I know all that!” he yelled when Knockout was finally done. “You think I’m stupid?” They were standing so close together Starscream could easily strike Knockout for talking to him like that, for making him feel, well, stupid. He had taken all of that into account, many times over, every time he considered what was happening with Shockwave. They were things he accounted for, planned for, and set aside, satisfied he could handle it. Hearing it all laid out though, he found himself reeling. Perhaps he’d lost perspective on what was normal, having lived for so long with those sorts of calculated risks always in the back of his mind. But his risks hadn’t paid off… Ever.

He didn’t touch Knockout. Just for a moment, his wings quivered, but he flared them again. “I thought about all of it, Knockout! It wouldn’t be logical for him to try anything against me. Have you considered that everything is different now that Megatron is gone? He even told me he finally realized our former master played us against each other!” He thrashed his wings, trying to shake the recollection of the momentary understanding he and Shockwave had shared. He loathed agreeing with the scientist, even if it meant he was vindicated.

“I hate him, don’t worry about that. My claws ache to pierce his wretched Spark! But he offered me a chance to see the rebirth of my kind - actually see it with my own eyes. I went with him, and I didn’t know what he was going to do, but now he’s working for the Seekers. Let’s just say he owes me and he’s working it off so his death might be less painful. I’m not saying I trust him, because I admit he tricked me, but he needs my expertise this time as much as I need his.” He tried to sell that last point, as much to himself as to Knockout, but found it rang hollow.

“And-” he glanced away just for a moment, casting about for a finishing argument, before returning with an even fiercer stare. “And don’t you dare bring Phoenix into this! I kept everything separate with Shockwave because he can’t know about her. He’d be overcome with curiosity if he learned where she came from, and that’s unthinkable! Let him be in his lab with the Protoform, far away from here! I was figuring it out!” Even he knew that was lame. Compartmentalizing was no excuse for keeping Knockout out of the loop, but up until this very moment, it had made sense on some insane level. Knockout, Phoenix, his team, they were his world now. Shockwave was the past - an ally of convenience whom he was using for his own ends. It was a simple past where he knew what he had to do and who he had to do it to, and at times Starscream still missed it, perverse as it was. If Knockout was placed in that world… a world where Starscream used everyone and his every move was a cynical calculation, then Starscream would only hurt him again.

But now, looking at Knockout’s unwavering glare, his well justified anger and poorly concealed fear, he realized - he had hurt him anyway. He couldn’t juggle a world where he was not alone anymore, a world he still barely understood, and a familiar world where he had nothing - no one - to lose. He’d lose either way.

Finally his wings fell, and he looked down, busying himself with wiping away the Energon that dripped from his wrists. “I know I should have told you,” he said again, quietly now that he was out of excuses and bluster. “I - I’m sorry. I do trust you, and I’m not trying to do this alone. It’s just… alone is how I’ve had to do things. I always lose everyone and it’s usually because of Shockwave. And…” His voice staticked out but he continued anyway. “because of me. I was afraid to tell you. Jetfire left and even Thundercracker left. My Trypticon crew… they didn’t leave; Shockwave butchered them, but I couldn’t hold the station. The stakes were high then, just like now, and they left anyway, or were taken. I couldn’t stop it. I made mistakes… and they cost so much.”

He fell silent, waiting tensely for Knockout to berate him for not trusting him, like he always did. Still, he could weather that, because despite the fears he’d just confessed, he did trust him. He knew Knockout wouldn’t leave him again, deep down, though he feared losing him to Shockwave. Even if the Seekers caught wind of him working with the mass murderer of their kind, and turned on him as a traitor, Knockout wouldn’t leave him. So he’d let him be angry. Who wouldn’t be, having to deal with a mess like him?

Knockouts anger continued to boil as he listened to Starscream drone on and on in traditional outrage of how his insanity was a good idea…

However like a pin to a ballon the building fury suddenly released at 2 simple words.

“I’m sorry”

Knockout took a moment to process what he just heard… the words indeed spoken in true sincerity.

Knockouts shoulders fell in an instant all semblance of heated retort dying on his vocals. Instead he heaved a long tired sigh before approaching the seeker.

“Starscream… I am not Thundercracker or jetfire… and your not alone not anymore…” He placed a gentle palm on Starscream’s shoulder.

“Just because I think you’re out of your processor for dabbling with Shockwave for what possibly could be the most backwards risky unethical scheme to date, doesn’t mean I’m going to leave… besides someone need to stick around to watch the rear.” Knockout smirked with a knowing glint that Starscream would recognize.

“And quite honestly, this whole conversation is completely exhausting for the both of us and at this point I know too much and your not going to kill me soooo you might as well tell me everything now so we can both get back to recharge…” Knockout pulled up a chair inviting the seeker to take a seat before he did so behind his desk.

However before Starscream could begin to elaborate he held up a single digits signaling a momentary pause. During which time Knockout retrieved 2 energon canisters and promptly placed them before filling them with a particularly strong grade of highgrade.

“Cheers” Knockout lifted the canister before promptly throwing it back in one swig.

“Alright, begin”

Starscream waited with downcast optics for Knockout to respond. None of his excuses made any sense and he knew it, but even now he cast about for something to ward off the desperate feeling of not knowing what to do. The medic’s prolonged silence only made him more apprehensive with each passing moment. He was really going to get it, and he was too spent to put up another fight.

He tensed at the touch on his shoulder, not flinching but still drawing inward. Knockout’s assurance that he wasn’t Jetfire or Thundercracker only seemed to crack the welds on those old wounds and made them bleed. Starscream struggled to find his voice, barely managing to mutter, “I know…,” as he turned to face Knockout. He’d spent so long convincing himself that he hated the old friends who had abandoned him, that he didn’t need their help and was better off without them, and now it hurt to recall how earnestly and sometimes desperately he’d sought their advice and trusted them to have his back.

As he watched Knockout move off and offer him a seat, he tried to remember the knack of explaining a problem to someone and… asking for help. Civilizations on countless worlds had flourished and fallen since he’d last done so. Stars had burned out.

The medic’s sly jabs and matter-of-fact insistence that he divulge everything oddly did reassure Starscream. This was Knockout. He wasn’t going anywhere, and even the fact that he’d seen all of the same dangers Starscream himself had seen in the situation was a good start. Freaking outabout them hadn’t helped, but now that the shock had worn off, they could get down to business.

He eased down onto the seat and fussed with his wings a bit, not sure how to hold them.

“All right. I’ll tell you. Just keep it down.” He gave Knockout a sharp look, before taking his canister of Energon and turning slowly in his claws.

“As I said, I asked him a hypothetical question, about what would happen if an implanted Spark were taken from the Well prematurely. I was worried about whether there were any Seekers being born or not, and what was happening with them. I specifically told him not to try it.”

Starscream rolled his optics. “Of course, when does anyone listen to me? Anyway, a while later he called up to tell me he knew for certain that Seekers were being born, and could show me. I… went with him.”

For a long moment he grew quiet, staring into the fuel he held. “The Well was… it was incredible. And sure enough, at the bottom we found one. A Seeker.” He held his hands about three feet apart to show show Knockout how small the protoform had been, and a soft smile stole onto his face. “It was only this big, but you could already the wing roots forming. I was trying to think of when we might be able to venture down again and check on it, when I turned around to see Shockwave cutting it right out of the ground!”

He swept his hand and flared his wings, recalling his outrage at what Shockwave had done. “I didn’t know that’s what he was planning! But sticking it back in the hole it came from wouldn’t repair the damage. It would have died. So…. I flew it back to his lab, where it’s now growing in one of his cloning tanks.” Finally he knocked back his drink and set the empty canister down. “It’s the best thing he’s ever had in there by a long shot. Hmph. Unfortunately it does make killing him more complicated. At least for now.”

Knockout stared optics wide jaw slack… the high grade doing hardly a thing for him when faced with this type of taboo.

Knockouts shoulders were again shaking but his own shock over the horrendous act was enough to keep him quiet for the moment.

That was until the canister in his hand exploded into a thousand pieces despite his obvious restraint.

“He… you both took a newspark… a child… from the Allspark…” Knockout couldn’t look at Starscream but instead his saucered optics cast downward at the broken shards now littering the desk In front of him and the energon dripping from his hand that had accidentally been sliced by a few of the stray shards.

The damage was hardly what bothered him most.

He wanted to yell to be angry again to shake the other and scream his outrage but all he could do was stare in horrified shocked silence for what seemed to stretch on for an uncomfortably long amount of time.

Finally Knockout found his voice once more.

“Starscream… I need to see the protoform… what you and shockwave have done is… I just… take me to the lab we have work to do if that spark is going to survive with Shockwave.” Knockouts voice remained calm now but almost deadened. As if any semblance of personality was being blocked out or repressed.

getting up from his desk Knockout turned his back to the seeker still sitting at his desk while he retrieved a tool to extract the shards from his hand. cleaning it and bandaging the minor wounds he did not turn to face the other as he spoke again quietly.

“I think… you should go- take a flight, should help calm your nerves.” Knockout spoke his tone professional… impersonal.

“I will prepare for tomorrow…” was all the more Knockout spoke leaving no room for debate.

Starscream looked expectantly at Knockout once he’d come clean about everything that had happened. Surprisingly he did feel relieved now that he’d laid it all out. That is, until Knockout crushed the Energon canister in his grip. The Seeker’s wings whipped down, clanging against the back of the chair, and he stood partway, not sure what Knockout was about to do. He noted that the medic was quite pointed about lumping him in with Shockwave, and his wings flared slightly. It wasn’t fair.

“It was mostly Shockwave. I didn’t want to- I didn’t mean to… ” Trying to fill the silence only made it worse, and he trailed off, finally just nodding when Knockout said he needed to see the protoform.

Of course he did, and Starscream wanted him to. When Knockout got up to leave, Starscream started to follow him, relieved to have a new plan, to have help. His restless mind latched onto the idea of getting started and he forgot how tired he was. But when Knockout spoke, he stopped, wings sinking slowly behind him.

You should go.

He was glad, in a way, that Knockout wouldn’t look at him as he stood there at a loss, swinging one fist against his leg and blinking nervously. Knockout didn’t want him around… Perhaps the medic needed to think. That was probably it. But Starscream couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his wings, and he tried to force the memories of all the times Thundercracker had shut him out like that from his mind. It had happened more and more towards the end… This was different though. Knockout said he was going to help. Or perhaps, not so different after all, except that this time Starscream was going to let him.

Finally he turned and stepped toward the medbay door. “Tomorrow then,” he murmured, not looking back as he twitched his wings together and slunk out.

[their-destinys-writer]

Caged - Chapter 8

Rated: Teen

Chapter: 8/?

Word Count: 8,033

Ao3 / FFnet / Wattpad

Chapter 8 - Damage Control

A bright light shone over Marinette’s bed, but that wasn’t what woke her up. Even though the girl turned off her alarm and decided to ignore it, her phone kept making incessant noises. Marinette pulled her sheets over her head, trying to drown it out.

It didn’t work.

With a loud groan, the girl threw the sheet to the side, grabbing the cursed brick.

“What’s making so much…noise…” she trailed off, jaw hanging. A hundred and thirty-seven messages! From who?!

She immediately pressed the texting application, and saw tons of messages from unsaved phone numbers. Strangers. She scrolled down, looking at the previews of them.

Hey, I dont care wut ppl r saying…

You don’t deserve wat’s happeni…

Could you tell Chat Noir to visit…

You two are together, aren’t you?

I ain��t believing ur stupid attenti…

Hey, if anyone’s sending you ba…

“Maman!” Marinette ran down to the kitchen, where Sabine had just placed a plate of croissants on the counter.

“What is it, dear?” she asked, startled. Marinette shoved the phone to her face.

“I don’t know any of these people!” she practically yelled in her panic, quickly biting into her lip apologetically. After a quick scolding look at her daughter, Sabine took the phone in her hands to look it over. Marinette started fiddling with her fingers.

“Have you given your number to anyone recently?” Sabine asked, to which Marinette shook her head. The woman sighed before handing the phone back. “We’ll get you a new one when you get off class today.”

“Why is this happening?” Marinette pleaded miserably.

“We’ll figure it out, sweetie, I promise.” Sabine stroke her daughter’s bangs and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. “For now, get ready for school. Okay?”

“Okay…” Although there was a slight sense of panic still lingering, her mother’s warmth helped her regain enough composure to think clearly. Calmer now, she climbed back up to her room, where Tikki was waiting on the desk, munching on a chocolate cookie.

“Wha’ ‘appen’?” she asked with a mouthful of the sweet snack. Marinette went ahead to tell her, giving the phone to her little friend.

“Now my parents are gonna have to change my number. This is ridiculous! How did this even happen?” The designer was pacing around the room at this point, flailing her arms.

“Any idea who it could have been?” Tikki questioned, looking through the different numbers that contacted her charge, her cookie left forgotten to the side.

“It could have been anyone! A friend, a classmate, a client, someone who I don’t know who happened to have stumbled on my number, somewhere.” Marinette let out a loud breath. “This just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?”

“Mmm,” Tikki hummed. Marinette’s brows furrowed when she realized the kwami was distracted, her blue eyes squinting at the phone screen. Before she asked, though, Tikki spoke. “There’s a number that sent several messages. And they’re pretty positive, too.”

The girl snatched her phone to read the supposed positive messages. They started at six forty-five. And they were… nice.

Hey. Nice to meet you. Sort of. I just wanted to say you’re pretty brave and cool.

Hey, me again. I saw some people comment that they were going to tell you mean things, so I wanted to tell you to not listen to them. They’re just jealous.

Hey. I must be getting annoying, but the others are probably more annoying. Please don’t listen to them. They’re jerks. I think you’re amazing.

The messages continued in the same manner, telling her to not listen to the others and complimenting her on both her personality and looks. Marinette couldn’t help but smile. There was something about the messages that seemed very familiar.

They reminded her of Chat, when he was not in his pun-loving self. When he wasn’t being so extra. Could it be? She wondered. This person was the only one to keep texting her, so… maybe. The thought was enough to replace her anger with fondness, and motivating her to start getting ready for school.

After finishing up and eating breakfast, Marinette prepared to exit through the bakery. She knew that no matter which exit she decided to take, there would still be reporters, so may as well take the shorter route. Taking a deep breath, she swung the door open and shot right through the horde of reporters standing outside.

Luckily, the traffic light was red, so Marinette was able to sprint across the street and run up the school entrance stairs, skipping a few steps in the process. Reaching the large door, she threw herself in, like she had just reached home base in a baseball game, skidding across the floor. The move earned her a few odd stares from nearby students, but thankfully no comments. Except for one.

“Now that’s what I call an entrance.”

Marinette raised her head and was met by a pair of orange Gabriel high top shoes. She could feel her face becoming hot as her eyes traveled up to meet Adrien’s amused expression.

“Need a hand?” he chuckled, extending his hand towards her. Marinette gulped. Well, at least he found it funny, she miserably tried to comfort herself, accepting his help. “Sorry I didn’t help you this morning, but after yesterday… well, I didn’t wanna make it worse.”

“N-no, it’s fine,” Marinette assured him, dusting off her clothes. “That wasn’t your fault.”

Just then, her phone rang out. It had already made the notification sound several times since she got out of the bakery, but the run had distracted her from them. She was about to ignore it, but another message arrived, which prompted a growl from the girl.

“What’s up?” Adrien tilted his head.

“Somehow, the whole world has my stupid number, and now I’m getting texts like crazy,” she said as she scrambled to get the phone out of her pocket.

“Oh yeah, I noticed it this morning,” the model pointed out. Marinette stopped tapping on her phone to stare at the boy. So he elaborated: “Someone posted it on the Ladyblog forums. I tried to comment, but when I pressed ‘send’, it said the post no longer existed and the forums were closed. I think it’s safe to assume Alya was not happy about it.”

Marinette growled again.

“Good to know the source. Any chance you know who it was?”

“No, sorry,” Adrien responded with a shrug of his shoulders. “Most posters are anonymous or have a username.”

“Greeeaaat,” Marinette groaned. There went her plans on finding the culprit. She looked back at her phone and noticed the most recent message was from the positive person. The possible Chat? She wondered. Without thinking it twice, she tapped on the text.

Hey, again. Just want to wish you a good day in school. Hope people don’t bother you too much.

A smile tugged at her lips once again. She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment, but ultimately deciding on tapping on the response box.

Hi stranger. Thank you for all the positive messages. They have made this morning easier. I don’t know you, but—

“I thought you were irritated with the texts.”

Marinette squeaked and flailed an arm, accidentally hitting Adrien on the face. Who had moved to stand behind her.

“S-sorry, I—” but she stopped, registering something as he rubbed his nose. “Were you reading my text?”

The reaction was instantaneous. The model stiffened, his cheeks turned a rosy color, and his hand went up to the nape of his neck.

“I-I didn’t mean too,” he said quickly, almost mushing the words together. “Sorry, you just looked to happy…”

Marinette blinked. “Huh?”

Adrien cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “Not everyone giving you a hard time?”

“Oh, no,” Marinette shook her head. “There’s this one person who’s actually been pretty cool. They keep telling me a lot of nice things, and… I don’t know… Adrien?” She asked suddenly. Adrien hummed in response. “Can I trust you?”

He smiled. “With your life.”

Marinette returned the gesture and finally voiced what had been in her mind the entire morning: “I think this person might be Chat Noir.”

There was a pause. Adrien arched an eyebrow.

“What?”

“This person keeps calling me stuff like amazing, brave, stuff that Chat Noir has actually called me. It reminds me of how he is when it’s just me, when he’s not trying to impress anybody.”

“I don’t think it’s him,” the model blurted out, narrowing his spring green eyes.

“You don’t know him like I do,” Marinette defended.

“Don’t you think Chat Noir would think it was a bad idea contacting you in his civilian self?”

“Well, Chat has a tendency of being reckless. Not that I can speak much better about myself lately, though.”

“Even so, that seems like pushing it. Wouldn’t he be more… discreet?”

“What could be more discreet that an anonymous text to a number that was released to the public?”

Adrien opened his mouth, but after a moment of hesitation, he closed it. His brows furrowed, something processing in his mind.

“You actually have a point,” he whispered, so low that Marinette almost didn’t catch it. She beamed internally, basking in her small victory.

“Perhaps you should learn to give my chaton a little more credit, Agreste.”

“Your chaton?”

It took her a whole second for the question to properly register. MY CHATON?! Why did I just say that to Adrien?! And why did I call him Agreste?!

“N-not like that!” she hastily tried to correct. “It’s just a stupid nickname, he’s not actually mine. He’s my friend, t-that’s it. I-it’s a joke, but he’s not mine, mine. I-I don’t even know why I said that. We can’t even see each other because of our mess.” What are you talking about?! “N-not like I see you, heh.”

“Actually, father told me not to be seen with you.” Marinette halted her antics to stare at the blond. She expected him to look at least a little upset, but he actually seemed beyond amused.

“Oh,” she uttered. “I…I guess that makes sense. Your father is not one for scandals…”

“Yeah. But don’t worry Prin-uh Mari,” Adrien spoke with a chipper tone, despite the little rain cloud Marinette suddenly felt on top of her. “I’ll still help you through this whole thing and make sure you get off unscathed from this.”

The storm going on in the girl’s heart reached its eye, and a bewildered look took over her face.

“W-wait, I-I thought your father doesn’t want you hanging out with me.”

“Correction,” Adrien placed his hands on his back in mock innocence and leaned towards her. “He said he didn’t want me to be seen with you. Since he was talking about the tabloids at the time, I assume he simply meant in front of them.” He finished his sentence with a mischievous grin Marinette had never seen on the golden boy. He looked so…proud.

It was annoying.

“Since when are you such a rebel,” she crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow.

“Pfft, please,” Adrien shrugged. “I’ve always been a rebel. How do you think I traverse Paris without my bodyguard? This ca-uh-guy is no saint.”

Without meaning to, Marinette groaned. There was something about his current attitude that was so… so… exasperating. It reminded her so much of—

Her train of thought was cut short when she noticed the blond’s expression slightly shift to a warm smile.

“What?” she frowned. Adrien shook his head.

“You’ve just never been like this with me,” he spoke softly. Marinette squinted.

“What do you—”

“MARINETTE!”

The two turned to the source of the call, only to see Alya running their way.

“Girl, please tell me your phone hasn’t been bombarded with strangers,” she pleaded, slapping both her hands on the designer’s shoulders.

“Sorry, no such luck,” Marinette grimaced.

“I’m sorry,” the redhead sighed. “I tried to delete it as soon as I saw it, but it was too late. I spent all morning looking through the forums, but—”

The first bell of the day rang, signaling that it was almost time for class. The sound made Alya remember her surroundings and realize Adrien was standing there with them.

“Hey Adrien,” she waved. “Mind if I borrow Marinette for a little bit?”

“Sure, we gotta get to class anyway,” he reasoned as he adjusted his bag. “See you in class, Marinette.”

With one last wave, he headed off to class. Marinette awkwardly waved back, the strangeness of their conversation finally sinking. Did I just have a normal conversation with Adrien?

“Well, see you too,” Alya mumbled. It was then that it dawned on Marinette that Adrien barely acknowledged the presence of her best friend. But the thoughts were cut short as Alya started speaking louder know. “This is becoming a nightmare. I can’t believe somebody actually used my own blog against you!”

“Any idea who it was?” Marinette pleaded to her best friend, as they started walking towards their classroom.

“Not yet,” Alya responded. “But I will find out. Trust me.” The redhead shook a fist in the air. “Ooohhh, and when I do, whoever it was, I’m gonna kick their butt so hard, they’re gonna need a spaceship to get back on Earth.”

Despite the designer’s distress at the moment, the comment managed to get a giggle out of her. Sometimes she forgot how protective her best friend could get when it came to her.

“Anyway,” Alya continued after composing herself. “I got you an interview for an evening talk-show. You think you’re ready?”

Marinette nodded. “I’m ready. I wanna get this over with as soon as possible. ‘Cause it’s seriously getting ridiculous at this point!”

“I know!” Alya nodded vigorously, arms crossed. “Can you believe people have started stopping me in the streets to ask about you?” She changed her voice in mock of random citizens. “Is she with Chat Noir? What does he see in her? Can she contact me to Chat Noir? She’s a nobody! She’s so lucky! Uuuggghhh!”

Marinette winced at the image going through her head. She had almost forgotten the toll that it was probably taking on the reporter, too. And Adrien. And her parents. Uuuggghhh, why did I have to be so stupid?!

“Hey!” Alya broke Marinette out of her self-deprecating internal freak out. “Don’t do that. Don’t beat yourself up. And don’t tell me you weren’t, ‘cause I’d know that face anywhere.” The redhead placed an arm around the bluenette’s shoulders. “Remember: I chose to help you, knowing full well you’re prone to disaster. I knew what I was getting myself into.”

Alya gave her friend a soft, encouraging smile, accompanied by a light squeeze. Marinette returned the gesture.

“Thanks, Alya. So, when and where is the interview?”

“Tomorrow, at the TVi studio building.”

“Wait,” Marinette raised a palm, “you mean in the same building Chat and I messed up?”

“The one and only,” Alya nodded.

Marinette groaned. She had been hoping to avoid the building as much as possible, leave it for last. But from the looks of it, her best friend thought the exact opposite.

“They were the first ones to respond,” Alya responded, as if she could read minds. “Plus, don’t you think it’s kinda poetic?”

“Or a bad omen,” Marinette sighed.

“Chill, girl,” Alya wrapped an arm around the pig-tailed girl as they headed to class. “I’ll coach you tonight, and you’ll do great.”

“Tonight?!” Marinette choked. Tonight it was her turn to patrol. “I-I got stuff to work on. Maybe tomorrow at lunch?”

“Hmm,” Alya pondered. “Fine, but at least practice a little tonight?”

“I will.”

“Great. So,” the redhead’s tone turned to a teasing one, “you and Adrien seem closer lately.”

“Whatta you mean?” Marinette frowned, bewildered.

“Well, first he rescued you from a bunch of reporters, then he went nuts looking for you after yesterday’s akuma attacked, then he defended you against Chloé, his childhood friend, and this morning, I find you guys actually talking,” the redhead concluded.

Marinette’s eyes became round. With all that had been going on in the last few days, she hadn’t noticed Adrien’s sudden closeness with her. It wasn’t like before, where he simply tried to form short, random conversations. He seemed to be deliberately looking for her. Sure, it could easily be attributed to Chat’s slip up about her crush… But what does that mean? Does… Does it mean that he likes me?

Her heart started drumming hard on her chest, but not exactly how she expected it. It didn’t feel right. It felt like it was partly dread making it run. Why would she feel dread? Isn’t this what I’ve wanted this whole time?

“Maybe Chat Noir did you a favor, after all,” Alya continued, patting Marinette’s shoulder. “Maybe Adrien hearing that you like him was the push he needed.”

“I guess,” the blue-haired girl whispered.

“Girl, are you okay?” Marinette raised her gaze to meet Alya’s hazel one. She shook her head and nodded to her best friend, assuring her that everything was great. While the reporter looked unconvinced, she was nice enough not to question as they entered the classroom.

Why do I feel like this? She thought. I should be happy. There’s a chance Adrien is finally seeing me as more than just a friend. So why am I not happy? Why do I feel dread? Am I just scared? It could be… Yeah, that has to be it. I’m scared, which is a very normal reaction. Yeah… that has to be it.

Yet something still felt wrong about her statement. It felt both familiar and alien to her. But as they sat on their desk, Marinette dismissed the thoughts. She already had enough on her plate. She didn’t need to add ‘boy trouble’ into it.

Classes went by as usual. Thankfully, most classmates seemed to have gotten the questions out of their system, making Marinette glad, for once, that she accepted answering them. Of course, things still weren’t exactly the same: someone had still released her phone number for the whole Internet to see.

Although midday arrived pretty quickly for Marinette, what came next, made the next hour feel like an eternity.

The second Mrs. Mendelev left the classroom, everyone started picking up their bags to follow suite. But none managed to even get near the door before Alya ran head first to it and shut it. Everyone stared. Kim and Alix, the only ones who had gotten up already, stopped on their tracks. Alya squinted menacingly.

“No one leaves this room, yet.” Her hazel eyes shifted from classmate to classmate, watching each one carefully. “Alix, Kim, get back to your seats.”

The two didn’t need to be told twice. They weren’t exactly scared of the redhead, but from experience, they knew that when the reporter set her mind to something, it was best to stay out of her way.

“I need to use the ladies room,” Chloé demanded from her desk.

“Your makeup session can wait,” Alya narrowed her gaze to the blonde. Chloé scoffed and crossed her arms, but said no more. Alya took a deep breath.

“I,” she started walking to the front of the classroom, “wanna know who was it.” Her fists landed on her hips.

Everyone stared. Some shifted uncomfortably, confused. Kim and Max exchanged looks. Chloé’s nails started tapping her desk, while her head rested on her other palm. Slowly, Rose lifted her hand in the air.

“Yes, Rose?”

“Who did what?” she pipped up.

“Who put Marinette’s phone number on the Ladyblog forums?” Alya cleared up. A few made noises of understanding, while others groaned in annoyance.

“Oh, this I wanna know,” Alix muttered, punching a fist to her open hand.

“Who cares?” Chloé said loudly. “It’s not like Marinette minds the attention.”

“We’re not getting into this again, Chlo,” Adrien quickly intervened. The spoiled girl scoffed again, but did not retaliate. She didn’t seem too keen on the idea either, considering the entire class ended up yelling at her last time.

“Seriously guys,” Alya drew the attention back to her. “I know for a fact not many have Marinette’s number, and most of them are in this class, and we need to start ruling out people. Anybody who has her number, raise your hand.”

Without missing a beat, almost the entire class raised their hands. All except Adrien, Chloé and… wait…

“What are you doing,” Chloé silently hissed at Sabrina, pulling her arm down. Marinette’s eyes narrowed at the exchange.

Alya seemed to have noticed too, because she stepped up to the girls’ desk, crossing her arms.

“Sabrina,” she said carefully, “do you have Marinette’s phone number?”

“N-no!” she squeaked. “I-I don’t have it. N-never have.”

“That’s a lie!” Marinette suddenly burst, standing up from her chair. Her classmates stared at her in surprise, but she didn’t care. Her vision had turned red. She knew. Oh, she knew. What was more, it wouldn’t be the first time the two girls did something of the likes.

She stomped down to their desk and slammed her hands on it. Alya had even stepped back to allow her the space. Marinette glared down at the blonde and the ginger.

“I know for a fact Sabrina has my phone number, ‘cause she called me a gazillion times when we had to do a project together,” she explained, her bluebells shifting between the two as she spoke. Then, she narrowed them to Chloé. “And we both know she often ends up doing your dirty work…” They glared at each other for a moment, the blonde doing so daringly. Daring Marinette to say it. And said it, she did: “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Chloé gasped dramatically, a hand on her chest.

“How dare you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

“Oh, cut the theatrics!” Marinette snapped. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from you, is that you’re capable of anything. So just admit it.”

There was a moments pause, where the entire class held its breath. It was already pretty common for the two girls to butt heads often, but this was a whole new level. None, not even Alya, had ever seen Marinette so furious.

At last, Chloé huffed.

“So what? It’s not like you mind the attention. I did you a favor.”

“I KNEW IT!” Marinette bellowed, just as she grabbed the blonde from her yellow jacket. “You little—”

“Marinette, that’s enough!” someone grabbed her shoulders from behind, but she didn’t budge. Her bluebells glared daggers into Chloé’s electric blue eyes. For once, Chloé actually looked scared of the small designer.

“You have any idea what I’ve been through this week?!” she continued yelling. “I’ve been publicly humiliated, all my commissions are on halt because of this mess and I almost lost a friend. Why do you always have to go out of your way to make my life even worse?!”

“Mari, stop!” someone else grabbed her by the arm, while the other person slipped his hand around her waist. Together, the two people succeeded in pulling her away from the Mayor’s daughter.

“LET ME GO!”

“STOP IT!”

The second scream came from the very back of the classroom. From the one that the students had learned to ignore, because they didn’t trust her. The other person who had not raised her hand when asked if they had Marinette’s phone number. Lila was standing up on her desk, using it as a stage, glaring at the scene in the front of the classroom.

“Just, stop it!” she repeated. Lila dropped down to the floor and stalked her way to the front. “You shouldn’t waste your time with her. She’s just a bully. She doesn’t deserve your attention.”

“Excuse me,” Chloé drawled to the Italian girl. “Nobody asked for your opinion.”

“I don’t need to be asked to defend someone from a bully looking to humiliate someone else.”

Marinette felt a pang in her heart. She knew exactly the source of her words: Lila knew what it was like to be humiliated by Ladybug. She slumped back to whoever was holding her by the waist, and the person grabbing her arm let go and stepped forward. Alya was now standing in front of her.

“She doesn’t need your help,” she growled. Marinette could only imagine she was still miffed about the girl lying on the Ladyblog. Lila looked the side, and was about to turn away.

“Wait!” Marinette blurted out. The redhead whirled to her in surprise, while Lila looked back at the pig-tailed designer. She took a deep breath. “You’re right.”

“She’s what?!” Alya and the guy holding her said in unison. Marinette felt her head finally clear, and was at last curious about the arm holding her in place. A hand wearing a silver ring.

“You think so?”

“Marinette,” Adrien warned to her ear, his breath making her body shudder and her heart skip a beat. Why did it feel so familiar?

She cleared her throat to respond.

“Look, I know everyone has every reason to mistrust her—”

“That’s an understatement.” Nino crossed his arms, glaring and the exchange student.

“She lied about Prince Ali,” Rose pipped up once again from the back. Looking around the classroom, Marinette realized Alix and Kim had stood up again.

“I say we kick Chloé’s butt. And Lila’s too, for good measure.” There was a murmur of agreement amongst the students, cut off by yet another scoff from the spoiled blonde on the front.

“Papa would get all of you suspended before you can even blink. At least Adrien still has my side, unlike you lot.”

“Chloé, I pulled Marinette away from you because I don’t want her to get suspended,” he corrected her. The girl’s expression deflated. “What you did was awful, and I don’t condone it.”

“Then you and I were doing for the same thing,” Lila spoke softly to the boy.

“I’m not gonna do anything!” Marinette interjected the conversation. “Goal achieved. Would you let me go, Adrien?”

It seemed the model had not realized he’d been holding her this entire time, for his cheeks became the reddest Marinette had ever seen. He quietly apologized and slipped his hand away.

It was probably the cutest she’d ever seen him. Yet… Why don’t I feel more nervous? Am I getting used to him? She shook her head, driving the thoughts away, just as she straightened her clothes.

“Come on, Alya,” Marinette implored, getting both hers and Alya’s backpacks from their desk. “We got work to do.” With a quick glance at Chloé, Lila and Adrien, she turned on her heels and yanked the door open. She didn’t even wait for her friend.

There was just too much in her mind. She was still angry at Chloé, but decided it would be best to not let those emotions take over. The last thing she needed was to become an akuma herself. She was also conflicted about Lila’s defense. Part of her felt like she didn’t deserve it, after how harsh she was to her as Ladybug. But another part of her saw it as a chance. Maybe she could redeem herself, and make sure Lila never lied again.

But above all, Marinette was confused about Adrien. She was still in love with him, she was sure. But there was something off today that she couldn’t quite place. Something both comfortable and alarming. She felt more herself with him, able to keep words coherent. Which was alarming in itself, because: since when? The question had been in the back of her mind since that morning, as much as she tried to keep it out. And she still had no answer for it.

Alya finally caught up to her, asking Marinette if she preferred sneaking to her home instead of the bakery, to avoid all the reporters. Marinette was grateful for her friend not asking any questions about what had just happened, instead offering her calm and serenity. As they both agreed, they headed off to Alya’s apartment for lunch.

It was Thursday evening, and saying Marinette was nervous was an understatement.

Marinette, Alya and Sabine arrived about thirty minutes early to the TVi studio. At first, the pig-tailed girl felt a little embarrassed about having her mom with her, but after seeing how she defended her honor a few times, she felt relief. It gave her a sense of security.

Once at the studio, they had time to familiarize themselves with some of the crew members, and as a plus, they got to see how the host treated his guests. So far, he seemed like a decent guy. But so was Nadja with her, until recently.

After a few minutes, they separated, Alya to speak with a few other crew members and Sabine to call Tom, updating him on everything in the studio. Meanwhile, Marinette stayed close to the stage, focused on the interviews happening before hers.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” a tiny voice came from her purse. “You can do this, Marinette. You’re ready.”

Marinette smiled. “Thanks Tikki.” She took a deep breath, and started talking more to herself than to her kwami. “I can do this. It’s a piece of cake. I’m ready for this. It could be worse. It can’t get any worse.”

“Hey, Princess,” a cheerful voice purred behind her.

Marinette screamed, raising her arms and a leg defensively. A move that earned her a snort from the stray. Who was not supposed to be there. Again.

“Chat!” she reprimanded, taking a quick glance at her now-closed purse once her initial shock ceased. “What are you doing here?!”

“Nice to see you too,” he retorted with a smirk, hands behind his back. “Looks like we’ve been tricked again,” he leaned towards her. “We really need to work on our communication skills.”

This can’t be happening!

“Hey, don’t worry,” a clawed hand warmed her shoulder. Wait… Did I say that out loud? “We got this.”

She looked up to his beaming face, and a sense of security rushed through her. Well, he was her partner after all. Marinette returned the gesture and gave him a determined nod. The move relaxed the cat, but almost immediately, the same hand went up to the back of his neck.

“Uh, while we’re on the subject of tricking, you should probably tell that Adrien guy when you have interviews, too,” he said, nervously. Marinette’s brows furrowed, and Chat quickly continued. “I-I mean because, uh—if, um, they trick me like this, they could do the same to him, and—uh—I-I’m sure you don’t want that happening. Right?”

The moment the words registered, she stopped questioning his strange stammering and a sudden panic overtook her thoughts. A gasp escaped her lips, hands going up to her hair.

“They’re gonna drag Adrien into this!” she burst, teeth clenching. “They’re gonna be all over him! Oh no, and they’re gonna make him so uncomfortable! He’ll never, ever, ever, ever speak to me again!”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry,” Chat reached out for her wrists and slowly brought them down. “Everything’ll be fine. And I’m sure there’s no way Adrien could think any less of you. I know I wouldn’t.”

The simple gesture was enough to calm her nerves, and just as another smile was tugging at her lips, a loud clearing of someone’s throat popped the bubble Marinette hadn’t noticed the two of them had created between themselves. She hadn’t even noticed when Chat’s hands had slid down to hers.

The two quickly let go, turning to Alya. Marinette gave a nervous laugh, scratching the back of her head sheepishly. Next to her, Chat awkwardly waved.

“What are you doing here, cat-boy?” Alya reprimanded, fists on her hips.

And there he went again, with his hand on the back of his neck. A move that just got cuter each time he did it. Wait, cute? What do you mean cute? Marinette berated herself.

He’s cute when he does that. Can’t deny it, a voice in the back of her mind responded.

Yeah, if by cute you mean silly and ridiculous, yeah he’s cute, she tried to reasoned. But it brought no comfort. In fact, it brought the exact opposite. This wasn’t exactly news; she had admitted his good looks just a couple of days ago. Why did it feel different then?

“Marinette, you’re up in like five minutes. You can’t go on TV looking flushed,” Alya interrupted her thoughts. Marinette had been so engrossed in her inner confusion, she didn’t register the conversation Chat Noir and Alya had been having. A palm slapped to her cheek.

“Flushed?!” Unlike last time, she could actually feel heat on her round cheeks. Where the hell is this coming from?!

“Relax, girl,” Alya waved a hand dismissively. “You guys will do fine. Just need to go over a few things first.”

The redhead started reminding them of their last conversation about interviews, and Marinette used to opportunity to shoo away whatever those thoughts were earlier.

Sabine looked from afar towards the three teens. She had to admit it was a bit amusing seeing their exaggerated antics for the simplest things. More so, she could already see the closeness between her daughter and a pretty handsome boy. Honestly, she was a little disappointed that it wasn’t Adrien, but this kid treated her with such warmth and respect, she couldn’t help but like him, and hope for him joining the family someday. If he could.

She looked around to see if anyone was aware that a superhero had just walked into studio, when a flash of fuchsia hair caught her attention. There, amongst the crew members was Nadja, holding a microphone, looking for something. Until her brown eyes locked on Sabine’s grey ones.

Sabine huffed and turned away.

“Sabine!” Nadja called. The short woman turned her scowl to the reporter. She could tell the look cut through the reporter like a knife, sending cold chills down her spine. Nevertheless, she took a step forward and whispered: “Please…”

“What could you possibly want with my family now?” Sabine said coldly. “Do you want an autograph? Do you want my daughters baby pictures?”

“Sabine, I just wanted to apologize for what happened,” she spoke. Despite trying to keep a determined tone, there was a low shakiness to it. “But you have to understand that it’s my job.”

“Don’t give me that,” Sabine hissed. “Marinette is not some job. She’s my daughter, your daughter’s babysitter. You took advantage of our friendship and exploited a minor. Do you have no shame? Whatever happened to that young woman who swore would never sell her soul to corporate media?”

“You don’t understand,” Nadja almost pleaded, losing her composure. “It’s my job!”

“She’s my daughter!” Sabine retorted. “Thanks to you, she’s been through so much. She may be strong, but this is not something a normal fifteen-year-old should be dealing with!”

“I could’ve lost my job, you have to understand I have a little girl to feed,” the reporter continued trying to justify herself.

“Either way, you lost a babysitter,” Sabine scowled. Nadja took a step back.

“What?”

The small woman took a deep breath. “Nadja, you’re no longer welcomed in our home, and I will no longer allow Marinette watch over Manon,” she declared. “I am so disappointed in you,” Sabine whispered sadly and walked away towards her daughter, leaving a defeated looking Nadja.

As much as she loved her old friend, Nadja had crossed a line, and she wasn’t willing to forgive so easily.

Marinette tried her best to hide every time she shifted uncomfortably. She was too conscious about the fact that everyone, both the crowd and the cameras, could see every one of her movements.

But she had to get through it, one way or another.

I’m Ladybug, dammit, she repeated for the hundredth time already. I can do this.

“We go live in three, two…” the man behind the camera raised an index finger to signal the one, and then pointed to the host. The crowd started applauding as one of the cameras panned around the studio, and other two moved around the front of the stage, focused on the tanned man behind the desk.

“Welcome back to The Evening Show with Kudret, and we’ve reached our segment of the special interview of the night. Now, I’m sure most of you have dreamed of being saved by one of Paris’ own heroes, Ladybug and Chat Noir. But what are the odds of one of you saving them instead? For one civilian, the answer is two! Ladies and gentleman, give it up for The Girl who saved Chat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, accompanied by none other than superhero Chat Noir!”

A sign lit up with ‘applause’ written on it, and the crowd released the excitement they had been holding for a few minutes already. Marinette tried to make her smile as genuine as possible, but her mind kept travelling back to her amazement in all this. It boggled her how scripted the show was, despite being live. On the armchair next to her, Chat Noir enthusiastically waved. Pfft, leave it to him to show off.

“So tell me Marinette,” the man continued as the clapping died down. “How does it feel to be known as a hero?”

What an ironic question, Marinette thought, fighting back a laugh.

“I wouldn’t call myself a hero, Kudret,” she responded flawlessly, channeling her inner Ladybug. “I only happened to be at the right place, at the right time.”

“And Chat Noir, did you ever think you’d be saved by a civilian?”

Chat Noir blinked. It seemed that he had been distracted by something, so Marinette widened her eyes a little, in warning.

“Oh, well,” he shook his head, “I believe any civilian has the ability to be a hero. Of course, I wouldn’t recommend it. It’s very dangerous. Best leave it to the professionals.” He pointed a thumb to himself, and Marinette resisted the urge to groan. Rule number one: know when to stay quiet.

“So, I must ask: rumors have been going around that you two know each other more than mere acquaintances; how true is that?”

The designer could feel a sliver of panic rise up her throat. She took a deep breath. Rule number two: control the stammering.

“We actually don’t know each other that well,” she responded, once again almost effortlessly. “It’s just very easy to interact with someone who has a mask and you think you’re not gonna see again.”

The first two minutes were actually pretty pleasant. Kudret was polite enough to ask proper questions. Most of them could be responded with either the truth or the story the two teens cooked up with Alya. But alas, it was not to last.

“So a few things came out on your interview in FMi last Monday, where Chat Noir mentioned that you like someone called Adrien, and from what our sources have gathered, you are classmates with none other than fashion icon Gabriel Agreste’s son, Adrien Agreste. Is he the boy Chat Noir was talking about?”

Moment of truth. Let’s see if I can pull this off.

“You know,” Marinette started, appearing amused. “This is all just one big misunderstanding. And I think I know how it happened.”

And she started telling the lie they had come up with, about Chat mistaking her love to the Gabriel brand. The words came out so smoothly, she almost believed it herself. Which she took as a good sign of her acting.

“That conversation makes so much sense now,” Chat feigned surprise. Not that the crowd knew that. “I was wondering why you kept talking about his clothes. I thought you just liked his sense of style. Should’ve recognized that star-struck look after seeing your reaction the first time you met me.”

Unexpected to Marinette, Chat Noir wiggled his eyebrows. The hand holding on to her purse tightened, as she fought back a groan. She strained a smile.

Rule number three: no bantering.

“Yeah,” she said through clenched teeth. “I was pretty star-struck the first time we met. Just like any other person.”

“You should have seen her, all excited because she was gonna work with ‘the great Chat Noir’,” Chat started flexing his arms, much like he did in their first meeting. Marinette’s other hand flew to the strap of her purse, holding it tightly. He’s never gonna let me live it down, is he?

“Well, how often does a hero ask for your help, right?” she laughed nervously.

“Wait, hang on a second, when did you two actually meet for the first time?” Kudret intervened, his brown eyes sparkling with enthusiasm the moment he noticed he may actually get exclusive information.

“We met long before Entangler,” Chat started. “I believe the owner of the Ladyblog mentioned it in her article about the first time she rescued me.”

“That’s right,” and Marinette went on to tell the television host the story of The Evillustrator. Or at least the civilian version, where she wasn’t Ladybug.

“And does this boy still like you?” Kudret pushed this time. And it was a question that had never occurred to her. Did he? She never asked Nathaniel. She had thought it would be easier for him if she just pretended she didn’t know. Less awkward.

“I-I don’t know,” she confessed. What else am I supposed to say?!

“Let’s not get off topic here,” Chat suddenly cut in, rescuing her from what was about to be another disastrous moment with the press. “The real story here is how Marinette is a total fangirl.” Scratch that. “I mean, seriously, seeing her swoon about her idols, including me,” he added with another wiggle of his brows, “it’s probably the side of her I’ve seen the most.”

I swear to God, I’m gonna—No, Marinette mentally tried to calm herself. I can’t do that. It’ll only make it worse. Just follow his stupid lead.

“I guess I overreact often,” she said, doing her best to keep a neutral tone.

“Oh, I think we all know that already,” Kudret laughed. “Well, we need to take a short break, but stay tuned for more on The Evening Show with Kudret.”

The applause sign was lit up once again and a camera panned away from them.

“Cut!” the man behind the nearest camera yelled. A murmur rose up in the crowd, while Kudret turned to the interviewees.

“Thank you so much for your time,” he extended a hand to the two of them. “You did great. You have no idea how good this was for the ratings.”

“It was our pleasure,” Chat responded, shaking the man’s palm. “Unfortunately, we need to be on our way now.”

“Of course. I wish you two the best of luck.” The man winked, making Marinette almost choke with her own saliva.

“Oookay, good night,” she said with a tremor in her voice, scurrying off the stage to the back rooms, closely followed by Chat. When they reached and emptier area in the back rooms, near a clothes rack, they stopped.

“That went well,” he grinned, despite Marinette’s unamused look.

“Yeah, for you,” she mussed.

“Come on, you gotta admit looking star-struck helps dissuade suspicion.”

“At the cost of my dignity?” Marinette crossed her arms. Chat’s grin turned into a sheepish one.

“Too far?”

Marinette sighed. “Let’s just say that I had to fight every fiber in my being to stop myself from blurting out that you like Ladybug just to embarrass you.”

Chat Noir was taken aback, but then smirked. He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was, it was drowned by something else.

“Is it true?!”

The two teens jumped at the sudden outburst from an unknown voice, turning to see a man holding a camera, jumping from behind the rack with the colorful outfits. Marinette and Chat Noir stared wide eyed at the man, frozen.

“Chat Noir, are you really into Ladybug?”

This cannot be happening! A million thoughts ran through the girl’s head. A million emotions crossed her face in less than a second. But the top one was definitely anger. Anger with such imprudent people. Anger at the way her life had turned upside down. Anger at the lack of privacy. Anger at not being able to have one stupid conversation with a very dear friend.

“OH, COME ON!” she bellowed suddenly, making Chat take a step back and stare at her. It just occurred to her she hadn’t shown her temper in front of him as Marinette, but at the moment, she didn’t care. This is ridiculous!

The man, though, didn’t seem bothered by her outburst. In fact, he looked… delighted. Like his day (or his paycheck) had just been made.

“Does she know?” he prodded, ignoring their glares.

Marinette growled loudly. She was about to grab the guy from his shirt, much like she did the previous day with Chloé, but Chat grabbed her arm before she could.

“We just finished an interview with you people. What more do you want!” he growled dangerously.

“But is it true?” the man ignored Chat’s comments.

“LEAVE HER ALONE!”

The three of them jumped and turned towards the voice. Standing close to one of the entrances to the room, there was a woman, completely clad in black, and what looked like a rectangle over her eyes, similar to the effect used on television to censor people’s faces. Her short hair and full lips were a bright shade of green.

“You will no longer hurt Marinette,” she pointed at the paparazzi with what looked like a news microphone, with a picture of a purple butterfly on the carton decorating it.

An akuma.

“Get behind me!” Chat Noir instructed, stepping in front of Marinette. For the paparazzi, though, it was too late. The woman had shot a green beam from her microphone that hit him directly in the face.

“I can’t see anything!” the man said, but his voice was not the same. He sounded like he had a voice modulator. When he turned to them, both teens jumped, for his face was distorted by pixels. Not horrifying, but… weird.

“You are now censured,” the woman said as she swiftly walked towards them.

“Is that your name? Mrs. Censor?” Chat Noir mocked, hands steady on his weapon.

“No,” she stopped, standing tall before them. “I’m Damage Control, and I’m here to fix what we destroyed.”

“We?”

“Marinette,” she extended her microphone to Chat Noir, “I will fix your reputation, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Why would you care about—” but Marinette cut herself off, as the gears clicked in her head. “Nadja Chamack?”

“Don’t be bemused, sweetie,” she said with a dark tone. “It’s just the news.”

Just then, she waved the microphone and shot another green beam, this time towards Chat Noir. Luckily, his cat reflexes didn’t fail him, as he deflected it with his staff just in time. She shot him several more times, forcing them to keep stepping back, outside of the room. They were back at the large area with all the lights, cables and other recording equipment. Which worked as a disadvantage for Chat.

In his attempt to keep moving backwards without looking, he tripped on one of the cables, making him miss a shot and getting hit on his hand. The move made him drop the baton.

“Stop!” Marinette stepped between them, with her arms extended. “If you want to hurt him, you’re gonna have to go through me.”

Damage Control sighed. “Mari, Mari, Mari,” she lamented, pacing around while she fiddled with the bottom of the microphone. “I was really hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but,” she stopped to glare at the girl, “so be it.”

Before the two teens realized what was happening, the akuma pulled a cable from the bottom of the microphone and tossed it around Marinette. The designer became paralyzed, with her arms stuck to her sides. Immediately, Damage Control threw the other end over a beam on the ceiling and pulled the girl up, her feet dangling in the air.

She was stuck.