#i think of the original dress anytime i see a spinning dress reveal in a broadway show etc.

[gatalentan]

SYTYCD (2015) x RPDR AS8E05 (2023) ALEXIS MICHELLE

[moonctzeny]

champagne sins

pairing: socialite! johnny x fem! reader

genre: smut

word count: 1,714

warnings: alcohol consumption, slight voyerism, slight degradation

a/n: I blame @sehunniepot for this

general taglist: @naomis-sins , @slightlymore-main , @jjaeyoonoh, @ichbinschnappi, @infnteen , @markresonates , @babyksworld

——————————————————————

You love the way your new designer dress hugs your figure tonight, sparkly fabric reflecting the light and making everything around you glow. You love the way the champagne bubbles tickle your tastebuds with their sour taste, on your third glass already and with no intention of stopping anytime soon. You especially love having Johnny eat you up with his eyes from the other side of the room, his honey-colored stare having an iron grip on you.

Letting your body move on its own accord and with a wobble in your step you walk over to where he’s standing, large body resting sideways on the decorated wall. Johnny’s a socialite, yet if you asked him what he did for a living you’d get a different answer every time. He’s a DJ at the biggest club in town, he’s a reality star, he owns real estate. Maybe he’s one of those pretty boys you pay handsomely to loop your arms around for the rest of the night.

And you don’t blame anyone that would want to have Johnny like this, hard to resist with this combination of tall height, dark locks, and even darker intentions. Tonight, he looks more expensive than all your jewelry combined with those leather pants that melt right over his thighs. He’d left the top button of his satin shirt unfastened, teasing you with his smooth, tanned skin, and you take the first leap of immorality by loosening the second one yourself. You’re endlessly jealous of those pearls for getting to loop around his neck.

“Undressing me before even saying hi?”

“Hi. Now can I do one more?”

He chuckles and you take it as a sign to hook your index on the third buttonhole, revealing the top row of his abs. They’re covered in small glitter particles from last night’s fun and you envision the masterpiece you could create with just some lipstick and your fingernails. A sweet smell hazes your mind further, a mixture of his cologne and that caramel-scented e-cig he likes nursing so much.

He hums while still frustratingly keeping his hands to himself, towering over you with his broad shoulders and crushing the surge of confidence caused by the liquid courage, “What has you so naughty tonight baby girl?”

“You”

He loves having people inflate his ego and you know how to take advantage of this fact very well. He pushes back his long bangs with his hand, wet from the heat in the penthouse and finally pulling you closer with the other. His rings dig right over the dimples on your back, just low enough to toy with what’s considered inappropriate in a room full of people. Not that anyone cares, really; everyone is high on the substance of their choice and Johnny is just simply your favorite of vices.

“Naughty, naughty girl”, he muses and you follow his lips like you’re hypnotized, enjoying the degrading way he kisses his teeth.

“You know, when you pretend to be all righteous it makes me wanna fuck you even more”, you bite back and something changes in his eyes, pupils expanding like a big black hole that’s about to swallow you entirely.

His fingers leave his scalp to now grab onto your jaw, thumb hindering the blood from going to your head and forcing you to look away from the tattoo on his chest. You’re so close now that you notice his tongue is toying with some blue-colored candy, its original spherical shape now being a mere wafer-thin piece of sugar.

“You didn’t have a mouth this dirty last time I saw you”

“I thought you loved my mouth”

He grins at your wits, flashing you the same million-dollar smile that gets him free drinks and pretty people at his feet at all times before finally planting his lips on yours.

You think that out of all Johnny’s beauteous features, his lips have to be your favorite ones. Bow shaped and soft, they beg you to suck, nibble, and bruise them, the other party invitees be damned. His right hand, previously resting on your waist, is now grabbing your ass shamelessly, and he takes advantage of the gasp you let out to press the remaining candy against your own tongue. You’re so preoccupied with the way he twirls in your mouth that you’ve pliantly allowed him to corner you between the wall and his body, and when he starts to lick right over the middle of your throat you don’t know if the room is spinning because of the champagne or him.

“Fuck”, you mutter as your half-lidded eyes stare into the ceiling, a familiar hardness poking the top of your thigh.

“Language”, he scolds you against your skin, with a tone so cold you don’t know how it spreads so much warmth to your body, “Good girls don’t swear”

“What if I want to be bad?”

“Follow me”

“Follow me”

You weed your way between the groups of beautiful people, grabbing a glass of champagne on the way, until you reach what seems to be the door to the party thrower’s office. A big “DON’T ENTER” sign hangs from the knob and Johnny throws it to the confetti-filled floor without the slightest guilt, leading you inside the study.

It’s a spacious room, with full-length windows and a mahogany desk placed in front of a filled bookshelf. You don’t even manage to ask him where he wants you when he starts ravaging your neck again, his big body making you backtrack to the reclining leather chair in the end of the office. Unadulterated arousal pulses through you with every bite he leaves behind, and you push him down onto the seat, momentarily enjoying the view of him sprawled like that just for you.

Impatiently, Johnny grabs the back of your bare thighs, pulling you on top of him, and you quickly start to unfasten his braided black belt. Endlessly entertained by the thought of messing with you, he starts petting over the skimpy fabric of your underwear in an effort to distract you. It works, with your fingers shaking as they try to push his pants below his hips while his own start circling around your swollen clit.

A pitiful sob graces his ears as he pushes your soaked up panties to the side, petting your raw pussy that drips with a mess you’ve made just for him. You move your hand between his thighs in retaliation when he pushes two fingers inside you, working him into his full length as your moans harmonize into the most filthy of tunes.

“Tightest fucking pussy. Dripping wet too. Did I do this, pretty girl? Or was I just your victim for the night?”

“Just for you”, you moan out as you move along with his fingers inside you, your hand gliding easily over his cock with the aid of his precum.

He looks so fucking good like that; all messy and sweaty and all yours that you tug the bottom parts of his shirt away from one another, buttons breaking and dancing all over the floor.

“That was expensive”, he mentions playfully just to tease you, knowing damn well this shirt was nothing compared to Johnny’s net worth.

“And I’m priceless”

You take the glass of champagne that you’d left on the floor and start to spill some of the bubbly liquid over his chest, watching manically as it travels through the lines of his abs. The pale moonlight that seeps through the window kisses the wet skin, making him look irresistible as you lean down to suck the drink from the hollows where his muscles connect. Johnny weaves his fingers through your locks and giggles at the feeling, shivering when you reach his happy trail.

“Had enough of a taste?”

“I need one more thing”, you purr and take a condom out of your purse. He strokes his cock lazily as you open the foil carefully, eyeing you hungrily in the meantime, as if he hasn’t taken a good look at you already. When you’re done slipping the condom over his shaft you line the throbbing member to your opening, mentally preparing yourself for the girth you know is about to come.

A breathy whine leaves your lips when he slips fully inside you, and the way Johnny stretches you out already has you seeing stars.

Languidly but full of pleasure you start to circle your hips over him, enjoying the blinking light of the city that falls to your feet. A fleeting feeling of panic surges through you when you see all the people on the road and the balconies of the lower buildings, feeling even more exposed than you already are.

“Johnny, what if someone sees us?”, you ask him innocently but never once do you stop grinding your hips, making him smile at the empty question.

“I thought you wanted to be bad? Not a good girl anymore?”, he teases and thrusts his hips forward without a warning, making you shriek with how deep he reaches inside you. “A naughty, filthy girl that wants my cock in a party full of guests and with the whole city watching.”

He lifts his hand to drag down the fabric of your top, successfully freeing your chest and exposing you even more, loving the way your boobs look as you ride him.

“You think that just because anyone that happens to look up to see you being all slutty for me I’m not gonna fuck you against every surface in this room?”

You whimper at this promise, and your experience with him vouches that it will soon turn into reality.

“Please”, he scoffs, “you better bounce”

[lvnatiq]

Strip Poker w/ Nicky Valentino pt. 2

Warnings: Smut, very much nsfw.

a/n: Well... Hello my gorgeous readers ! Today I don’t have a lot to say other than hit me up with requests, let me know your opinions about my scriptio and don’t be afraid to message me to discuss/fangirl about TATW anytime you’d like.

(I couldn’t proofread :,( your foreign girl has no time on her hands because of the major exams ahead of her so...)

“Clothes.”

The mischievous smirk planted on your face explained everything. Your naughty intentions were well appreciated by Nicky, at least for now.

“Oh… toots are you sure about this ‘cause I mean it when I say that I got the gist of this game like no other.”

Seeing your smirk turning into a wide smile, he raised his eyebrows in a curious manner, still unable to comprehend your actions.

“Shall we ?” You say as you slowly inch your cards closer to your chest.

His face is flushed, he doesn’t know if it’s the whiskey or the thought of you in his bed that got his head spinning but he doesn’t mind. Not at all, when your hair is drooping over your shoulders where your dress reveals your neck all in its glory.

At first, he just thought that he could impress you with his skills by agreeing to play the game. Now, the sight of your face painted with a concentrated expression while your fingers move feverishly to organize your cards became his main cause of participation.

You look at your cards while having an inner monologue,

“Well what do we got here… Wait what! One card away from a STRAIGHT FLUSH !?!?”

Your original plan was to fail and lose in every single way possible but with this hand it was inevitably hard to follow up with it.

“The probability of getting a straight flush is about less than 0.02% , the only way Nicky could win this round is by having a royal flush which is nearly impossible.”

You eyed your cards in a shocked manner, not being able to keep your so-called “poker face”.

“I mean I could destroy my hand by trading two cards but still what if his hand is worse? I could also fold and move on… right ?”

Your thoughts were cut short by Nicky’s words.

“Don’t worry toots we’ll start slow. I won’t be too hard on you.”

His playful attitude filling the air as you pick up two cards laying them on the table face down and sliding them towards him with your fingertips. You raise your eyes to meet up with his, biting your lower lip.

“I think this will be the only time in your life that you’ll regret winning.”

Nicky raised two cards, holding them between his index and middle finger. Trying his best to look composed.

“We’ll see, my love.”

His eyes dark, his stare is as much if not more dangerous than the scenarios that are circling in his mind.

You take the cards placing them under the deck. Then you give both Nicky and yourself a new pair.

You take a deep breath as you pick up the cards facing them towards yourself.

“Yes! Two different court cards that have nothing to do with each other.”  

You manage to keep your expression blank. You look up to meet Nicky’s eyes.

“My boy, you seem so confident. I would hate to disappoint you.” You say, playfully messing with him, moments before your critical move. You raise your hand, fanning your cards, lightly letting your back lean against the plush cover of the couch behind you.

“Are you ready ?” You say excited to move on with your plan while desperately trying to convince yourself that you can lose.

“How can I not be? I don’t think that folding your hand in a game for two would be the right thing to do only for the sake of not losing” Nicky says as he gives you a faint smile.

“Taking risks is my deal and if that risk leads me to lose to you, then I’d be delighted to take that risk.”

Feeling the heat creeping up on your cheeks, you decide to take a big gulp of your booze.

“Then, it’s time for the showdown.”

You both stare into each other's eyes deeply before slamming the cards on the table. Your eyes scanning his cards while he is looking at yours.

“ I lost.”

“Well, I guess it was meant to be” He says, smiling coyly.

Nicky’s winner smile slowly disappears into thin air as the realization hits him square in the head. You can see his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he anxiously fidgets with the collar of his tie, loosening it.

“There goes nothing” You say as you rose to your feet.

He is completely flushed, a blushing mess from head to toe. His confidence fading away as he excitedly waits for what is about to come.

You glued your eyes on his, lowering your gaze towards him. The air around you feels thick, sexual tension dominating the aura surrounding both of you.

You slowly let the loose straps of your satin dress fall as you raise your arms slightly, allowing the dress to pool around your feet.

His breath hitch, his pupils dilate as his eyes wander on your skin. He looked and felt like a mess. You continued to look at him intently, eyeing the masterpiece you created.

His eyes find your nipples deliciously peeking through the silky material of your tiny undergarments. His, now, inevitably visible bulge catches your eye urging you to wet your lips with your tongue.

“This should be illegal (y/n). You have not even the slightest idea of what you are doing to me, my darling.”

You innocently smile at him as you walk towards him. His demeanor becomes even more cheerful as you lower yourself in front of him. Inching your body closer to his as if you were about to kiss him.

Then you unexpectedly grab his wrist pulling him to you. You lower your gaze as if you were eyeing him, but instead you look at his watch and then back at him.

“Oh my… It’s getting too late. It would be a disaster if we don’t get enough sleep, we have a long day ahead of us” you whisper as you plant a light kiss on his cheek.

He is so shocked that he can’t even manage to form a single word.

“Goodnight Nicholas.”

You get up and leave, quickening your steps as you hear the other footsteps accompanying yours. You try your best to get into the guest room as fast as possible.

The game of tag comes to an end as you reach for the door handle, Nicky’s hand finds it’s place on the small of your back pulling you against him. Then with a quick push of his hands you find yourself trapped between him and the wall. He doesn’t waste any time on sealing his lips with yours.

The kiss is gentle yet passionate. Nicky’s hands start traveling up and down on your body, at this point he has no control over himself whatsoever.

You moan into the kiss as he nibbles on your lower lip, lifting you and allowing you to wrap your legs around him. Your hands lost in his hair, pulling it just enough to make Nicky groan.

“You are in big trouble toots.”

"Mhmm... How big ?"

"You'll find out soon enough" he says as he pushes the door open with you in his arms.

You connect your lips once again as he walks over the bed laying you down onto it. He eyes your flushed figure arching against the bed.

"Teasing me like this... I can't believe how cruel you are.”

"Nicholas, you had me on the edge for the past 12 hours. I think that I went pretty easy on you."

"Oh you think so ?"

"Truly? Yes."

"Well then it's too bad that I'm not going easy on you tonight, my love. Don't you think?"

You feel the heat between your legs as it gets more and more unbearable thanks to his words.

"Is that so?"

He nods as he climbs on top of you lathering your chest with kisses, taking your nipple in his mouth as his hand slowly travels down to your hips.

"Nicky..."

"Yes, toots."

Your mind is hazy with pleasure. You can't concentrate on anything but Nicky's touch. His kisses trail down to your stomach nearing to your core.

You close your eyes, losing yourself at the way he feels.

"Open your eyes my love. You don't wanna miss the show" he says as he places himself between your legs.

The sight of him staring at you with his plush lips agape and his messy hair falling in front of his eyes is unreal.

He wastes no time pushing the silky material down as his tongue finds your folds. You moan pushing yourself against his wet tongue.

"Sweetest of the sweet..." he hums as he continues to devour you.

You feel yourself getting close, your legs are trembling. Nicky, aware of your condition, pushes his finger inside of you picking up the pace.

"Nicky I'm-- close."

"I know my love."

Just before you tip-off of the edge Nicky pulls his fingers out of you.

"Nicholas--"

He raises his hand, checking out his watch, looking at the time.

“Oh my… It’s getting too late. It would be a disaster if we don’t get enough sleep, we have a long day ahead of us” he whispers as he plants a light kiss on your cheek.

You shot up a glare as your lips part in shock.

"Goodnight, y/n." He sends a wink at your way as he gets up to leave. His million-dollar smile getting wider as he hears your rushed footsteps behind his.

"Nicholas you are not going anywhere !"

[manjuhitorie]

Muro Festival, is a rock festival! Which invites newcomers, upcoming artists, veteran come-on-ers, and all hard song enthusiasts alike to celebrate. Named after Muro Kiyoto, who is the manager of a Shibuya concert venue. As an avid enforcer of music events he’s esteemed by many in the scene, so the event draws in people who are driven by the fuel of that pass. At least bands will comment “Muro fest is an adhesive (Arukara)” or “The number one trait of Murofes is that the performing bands have awesome strong connections even on the side, and that the essence of that friendship engulfs it (Wasure).“ or “Even if Murofest was hosted at a small park or a in the middle of the street or in Muro’s house or even in a public toilet, I would perform. I love Murofest (Mizuno Gii).” 

Anyway the performances are full of power! Full of summer heat! Full of maudlinism to soar like Muninn! Full of a favorite: there’s Hitorie’s dead pan heartfelt bassist, ygarshy! 

And you were able to watch it on a niconico livestream but...

 IT’S ENDED NOW

 I will preserve this post as a report.... Doubling as a source for various trivia....  I’m considering maybe if a fan makes a purchase of a Wasureranneyo album, or something of similar sentiment, and DM’s me a screenshot, I could share the recording... Even if you see this in a billion lightyears from now. Because sharing is caring, all around yeah!!!

You have to get niconico premium to watch it, which is only 540 yen. Nothing compared to the fest’s ticket fee of 10,000 yen (Plus airfare fee for us overseers). You can use foreign debit cards, or even Paypal… ! Much of the performances were locked up, only for Premium members originally even for those who were able to watch real-time, so there’s no regrets in seizing the now. Thumbs up. Live shows enhance a whole different essence, so more than listening to a J-rock playlist on Spotify I’d recommend taking a dive into this while you can!!

Not only can you upfront witness the air around their electric pickguards warp to their technique, you can see them hop and whomp and throwmp around! What chords they clench with their teeth, what lines they unleash from the pit of their lungs, what parts the band will huddle together for and what songs mean the world to them! Also the crowds reactions, I move when I see them move, in polysemy. If there’s any niche J-rock band names you’ve maybe been curious about, or just want to find some new indie J-rock, the artist line-up is here! LAMP ON TERREN: wowawawa’s best buddy ‘Dai-chan’ is in there… *Waves hand* TERREN were once scheduled for a joint live with perfect timing, so they brought a birthday cake for wowaka and they got friendly with Rie... or so they thought.. The next day SND was ready to beat the shit out of them on stage. But they’re all friendly now (I think)))) Arukara: They master the standard rock setup with wads of distortion, wah effects, while sometimes make instrumental songs with violin etc. even! They do podcasts! And they reinforce cats a lot. I recommend Chigirero.  majiko: Village Man’s Store: Who are the band with bright red suits, bright firey songs, and bright red lips who kissed Shinoda that one time - In seriousness I could recommend them though, they’re sweet with only a little taste of the sleazy!  KAKASHI are rejoiced by quite a few Hitorie fans I know. There’s CIVILIAN: A three-piece whom all graduated from the Tokyo School of Music Shibuya, the bonds roam, who also hosts Nanou HoehoeP, another past utaite like majiko. LEGO BIG MORL: Sukippara ni Sake: Who are swanky with Kachāshī-like dances to the stretches of never making a boring song. And so so many more! J-rock band names start to make more less sense the more I’m in here! Wahoo! A band named Hitorie performed two years ago, and there’s LEGO BIG MORL this year, which is hoisted up by the same manager as Hitorie, Mika Arara! The members separately will some participate in cooking shows(), some each do acoustic shows on their own accord, each ego-search, and their stoic songs together are bound to at least make your foot tap from their flavored textures. For this sake I’m eyeing up the band’s particularly memorable whiz named Hiroki Tanaka. Hiroki is not most notable for his #My ygarshy hashtag, but for the sake of this he is. Under the tag is either Hiroki posting a picture of him together with ygarshy or him commenting #My ygarshy on pictures ygarshy of himself with others. Or the “What? Are you a couple?” on ygarshy’s “It’s our 9th year anniversary” photo of him with SND… yg “Sorry.” In general ygarshy and Hiroki are friendly, they drink and vent together time to time.Also Hiroki and Shibata Takahiro, the character who comes in soon, have a unit called Takahiroki. Which is the two of them fused to make flurry, with only an acoustic guitar and a mic as their weapons even!  Their concerts tend to break the norms of the non-flamboyant J-rock scene, as they screw around with their power with no real point, just a joint to a jollity! Where as many J-rock shows will use screens of music visualizers to engross, Takahiroki will use the crowd by galvanizing them raise their signature rainbow towels or make explosive call-outs towards the flames of reality. Where many will use subdued dance to party, Takahiroki will chit-chat about food and females as they swing their limbs like spinning amusement park rides or dress as bartenders and drink . Though all rock shows are have their unique tricks and spirit, it’s nice to see it super shaken up also… I introduce these two for good reason! It’s background for what’s feautured in the niconico livestream! The band Wasureranneyo! That Shibata is on vocals and guitar, that Hiroki is on main guitar, our ygarshy is on bass, and Takayuki Tomita is on drums! Tomita is from a band called THE LOVE NINGEN, whom I’m not sure how came into relation with Shibata, but Wasurerannee yo is constantly borrowing members to fill it’s blanks due to . ygarshy has been consistent for more than half a year now! Hiroki also bounces in whenever he can an ex. Wasurerannee yo member once filled in for Love Ningen. They themselves most likely meet at festivals like this! Where similar bands get together under a sonic medium and spend the crepuscle ball. But I’m going back to ygarshy! Him! His performance is a spotlight!

the important part     THE SHOW    highlights 

Wasureraneeyo start at 1:27:28, end at 1:58:39. You can manually copy-paste, and it’s a whole 30 minutes action-packed. There's about 48 hours before a the single watch instance will expire, but it's possible to close the window and come back anytime between then.

The first 5+ minutes are rehearsal, they’re muted to give the live-goers an extra extra incentive. It’s still worth a peak to see how musicians will stroll as they test. They played their theme song and also a cover of Alexandros’ Wataridori there’s nothing worth hearing anyway right (*wails).

The rest is 100% worth the buck!  ●Shibata starts off by whimpering over an urge he needs to burst out, he needs everybody to cheer him on. When he Says “Miyamoto - Ryou!”, you have to shout “You can do it!” Note: Miyamoto and Ryou are a comedian duo, who just days ago were revealed to the victims of a corrupted corporation, who was holding absolute control over them. People have cheering for them to win better circumstances in the case. Yet the apologies and the press conferences have been fantasy football battles.... Ugh... It's a riot for sure though! Official news reports are here or here or etc. ●He gets everyone to wiggle their arms 90° angles above their heads “like we’ve gone crazy!” and shout a nonsensical “Yossoi hoi hoi!” chant! With the heat as the beat! yga just plays bass! ●He makes noise for his mom, multiple times throughout! His T-shirt even has his mom on it! Specifically a picture of 2 year old himself being embraced by his mother printed on it, with the word “Mother” metallically written on the back… Source from his past diary entry of him expressing his maternal love. I can’t believe this ygarshy no wonder you can’t help but smile a lot during these shows. ●He complains about the shitty time he “went out drinking when he two cute girls walked through the door in, ‘Oh, oh, oh!’ he thought, only for them to start chit-chatting about how small their boyfriend’s dicks are! What kind of damnation is this bullshit!” ●The lyrics are about that stuff anyway!! ●There’s also a special appearance from Kanata Takehiro, the vocalist of LEGO BIG MORL. Shibata bitches at him mid-solo because “Fuck you! All the girls are staring at you now damn it!” *He is actually popular in the band due to being good and cooking and math and being an overall goofball behind the gallantries. The original of Odore Hikikomori features Hiroki and Sekihan, of Happy Head NANIYORI also he was in the niconico scene a long time ago, both dressed in clothes that you may find very unlikely but 100% plausible. ●ygarshy smiles and then recalibrates his hair over his eyes to look like a dark souls boss faceless again. He holds his bass with the neck upwards, he’s reviving his high school orchestra club bass playing sensibility. Virtuoso. The high tempo of Wasureraneeyo’s songs is definitely on par with Hitorie’s, Rie's irregular metres, swapping, interchanging and 456 metres are monstrous, but the sheer volume of tutti and strumming in Wasure’s punk songs seems to be something else as well…! yganbare!! ●Also don’t worry about those missed minutes because Shibata crowd-surfs again. This time with cash in his hand a mission! Saying “I’m glad to be here! Take me to the cute beer darling!”, as he is driven by the hands of the compliantly ecstatic crowd towards a staff member waiting in the middle of the crowd, holding up your average beer! Shibata trades the cash for the cup, he orders everyone to gather under him, “I can’t stand up if you’re pushing my ass! Oh now I can thank you”, and at last he gains the support to stand up! On top of a crowd for God's sake he rises. To glug the beer like a food chain top predator of the wild. Then to slide back to stage while crying for his mom again.

●Hiroki physically shoves ygarshy around while they have the stage to themselves. Ahh how the tables turn, the kicker to the pushee. ●In his black robes ygarshy is just such a trance to witness play throughout… It’s really great in motion and as a whole I love dirty rock concerts. Music has to be heard, my lumberous lumpy text can’t convey those sound waves… So give it a watch if you may have free time to do so! Only if you can please!  Source for comments and some info: https://skream.jp/feature/2019/06/muro_festival_2019.php  More photos and videos can be found on their official twitter! Photos by Suzuki Kouhei woah...

[wolfgoddess77]

Worth the Wait

FFXV Nyx/Reader Fic (Complete)

Word count: 11,089

Rating: Explicit (NSFW)

Summary: You had never gotten along with your fellow Glaive Nyx Ulric; everything about him grated on your nerves, from that mouth of his that never knew when to shut up, to the way he always seemed to be right in your path whenever he wasn’t wanted. The two of you were like oil and water. But he finds you irresistible, and he won’t stop until you finally give in.

(Originally posted on Archive of Our Own.)

Disclaimer: I do not own FFXV or any related characters, nor do I own you. No money is made from the writing of this story.

Inspired by @hypaalicious and her Gladio fic “F**K You”. It got me wanting to write some angry smut of my own, and this is what came of it.

Author’s Notes: I recently watched the Kingsglaive movie. Big mistake, as I'm now head over heels in love with Nyx. Why are there so many amazing men in this universe?! 

Nyx Ulric was charming. He was handsome, fearless, confident… He was a hero, as many of his fellow Kingsglaive had taken to calling him in jest. He was quick with his twin blades, and an absolute nightmare in combat, relying heavily on warping, which made him unpredictable and lethal.

Nyx Ulric was a warrior of the highest caliber, and everyone knew it, including him. His charisma was off the charts; he had a kind of magnetism to him that seemed to draw in anyone who got too close, whether they wanted to be or not.

And Nyx Ulric pissed you off.

He was an exemplary Glaive, there was no doubt about that. Loyal to a fault and a good fighter to boot, the two of you shouldn’t have been at odds. Your personalities were close enough that, in all honesty, you should have hit it off well with him.

But there was something about him that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was his confidence, which often seemed to threaten to jump the line into arrogance, or it might have been the way he acted like nothing could ever hurt him, charging straight into danger without pausing to think about it first.

Whatever the reason, you tried to avoid him for the most part. And by and large, you had been successful.

Until you had decided to spend some time in the training room one morning. You were just finishing up your stretches when Nyx appeared in the doorway. This surprised you; you didn’t think you had ever seen him come here before. Then again, you usually took great pains to be wherever he wasn’t, so that might have been why.

You straightened, noticing that you weren’t the only one who found his presence a bit odd.

“Hey, hero! I thought you gave up coming here months ago,” someone called, making the Glaive’s slate-blue eyes cut across to him.

“Yeah, I did, but I’m bored. When you’re not on assignment, there’s not much to do around here unless you leave the Citadel, but I’m not off-duty yet. So I thought I would come see if anyone was up for a little fight.”

Duties at the Citadel could sometimes get a little murky. Kingsglaive members weren’t allowed to leave until the end of the day, but occasionally, they wouldn’t be assigned a specific duty, so they were free to roam as they wished, as long as they remained within the vicinity. This was the situation you had found yourself in that day.

Most of the Glaives used the time to better their abilities or tend to their equipment, but occasionally, a black sheep would be found who didn’t know what to do with themselves.

Today, that black sheep was Nyx.

His eyes scanned the scattered population of the room before finally settling on you, making you stiffen.

“How about you, (Name)? You don’t look too busy. Wanna go a round or two?” He gave you a small smile. On anyone else, it would have been charming, but you knew him well enough to see the edge of wickedness beneath it.

“Sorry, no can do.” You gave him a dismissive wave, intending to turn back to the conversation you’d been having while you warmed up. The last thing you wanted to do was climb into the ring with him, subjecting yourself willingly to his presence.

Because you’d looked away, you didn’t see the glitter that appeared in his eyes. Your only warning was a slow intake of breath as he stepped closer, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s wrong, shortcake? Don’t think you can take me in a fight?”

You froze. That hated nickname.

Because you were quite a bit smaller than most of the others, you were often teased about it, but you always took it in stride, joking back that it wasn’t your fault you were surrounded by gangling titans.

But then one day, Nyx had located you at an outdoor café as you were finishing up lunch with a friend, and he had noticed that you were having a strawberry shortcake for dessert. A slow smile had spread across his face, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as you waited with bated breath to hear just what was about to come out of that mouth of his.

“Shortcake, huh? Well, that just fits like a glove, doesn’t it?”

It was only because of your companion’s quick movements that you were stopped from launching yourself across the table at him. From that day on, whenever he wanted to provoke you, he would call you that name, which you had quickly come to hate. How he managed to know exactly what to say to piss you off, you didn’t know, but he had a gift for it. What was more, you were sure he thrived on it, and made it a point to antagonize you as often as he could. It had gotten to the point where it seemed like every corner you turned, there he was, just waiting for his chance, which he would gleefully seize without hesitation.

Slowly, you pulled yourself up straight, turning to face him. Even though you had to tilt your head back to make eye contact with him, you had never been one to be intimidated by someone bigger than you. Conversation fell silent as the tension in the room grew. You could almost feel it crackling between the two of you as your eyes met his.

“Anywhere, anytime,” you said, your voice deadly quiet. It was one thing for him to tease you in private, but in front of everyone like this? That was going to prove to be a mistake.

Nyx merely blinked at you, unfazed. “I believe the offer was right here, right now.”

Abruptly, you turned, making your way over to the large ring in the middle of the room and climbing inside. Nyx was close behind you, already reaching up to unfasten his jacket. The two of you kept your eyes on each other as you each removed the outer layers of your Kingsglaive uniforms, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but take a moment to admire the way his muscles rippled as the garments were set aside, revealing more and more skin. You might not have liked him all that much, but even you could objectively appreciate a fine specimen of masculinity when it was standing just feet away from you, half-dressed.

The two of you stripped down to pants and tank tops, your fingerless gloves the only other thing you were allowed to wear, so neither of you would do too much damage to the other. As you were straightening from putting your boots aside, you caught him eyeing you. Not that he tried to be subtle about it; his gaze dipped boldly over your form, and you saw one corner of his mouth twitch upwards slightly. Strangely, you weren’t overly bothered by this. You had been doing the same thing just a moment ago – though you had been far more discreet – so you didn’t have a leg to stand on if you decided to call him out on it. Turnabout was fair play, you supposed.

Drawing your slender silver daggers from their sheaths, you turned to look at him. He was standing halfway across the ring from where you were, his own curved daggers already in hand, and even as you watched, he casually tossed one of them into the air, catching it by its blade before flipping it again, over and over. You studied him closely, taking in the relaxed, almost lazy way he carried himself. It was like he was simply preparing for a conversation with you, rather than combat.

You slid into a defensive stance, raising your arms across your body protectively. Unlike him, you preferred to hang back at first, studying your opponent and trying to get a read on their battle style before going on the offensive. It would be difficult with Nyx, though; you had seen him in combat many times, and knew he wouldn’t be standing there for very long. Soon he would-

Sure enough, before you even had time to finish that thought, your opponent had lunged forward, closing the distance between the two of you and swinging into a heel kick aimed at your stomach. You nimbly slid backwards just enough to avoid the blow, spinning around towards his momentarily-undefended back and throwing a punch at his ribcage, making sure that your dagger was turned in such a way that it wouldn’t strike him.

He didn’t give you the chance to connect, using the rest of his momentum to complete the turn, and using his elbow to push your arm out of the way before the punch could reach him. As he did this, you noticed that he wasn’t using his full strength. It was an almost gentle strike, if there was such a thing.

This made you frown. Was he not taking you seriously?  If he wasn’t, you would make him.

Backing away before he could go into another attack, you threw one of your daggers over his head, burying it in one of the many stone columns that had been set up around the ring for just this purpose. He watched as your form disintegrated, turning at the telltale crack of the completed warp as what looked like embers fell from your newly-manifested body as you hung one-handed from your perch.

But instead of warping again, you simply hung there, waiting, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist.

You saw him raise his hand, and his own dagger was soon sailing through the air. But almost simultaneously, your second blade was airborne, being thrown straight at him. It was moving slower than the first one, giving him the opportunity to catch it…which he did. He hadn’t meant to, but it was instinctive.

His eyes widened when he realized what you were about to do, hurriedly dropping the weapon, but it was too late. His blade had landed little more than a foot away from you, sending him into a warp that would put him on a collision course with you. Just before the both of you disappeared, you saw his mouth form one word.

Shit.

You crashed into each other in midair, but you were ready for him. Tossing your second blade aside so you wouldn’t accidentally stab him, you planted your knee firmly in his chest, positioning yourself so you were on top as you both hit the ground. You immediately went for his hands, trying to pin them down so he wouldn’t be able to use the second blade to warp away or to force you to back off. Using the daggers offensively was forbidden in sparring sessions that had been agreed upon to be conducted with hand to hand combat, and Nyx took the rules seriously, but you didn’t know what might happen in the heat of the moment, when both of you were caught up in battle.

He grinned, taking in your respective positions. “Well, now,” he commented, making sure to pitch his voice so only you could hear him. “I never pegged you for one who liked to be on top.”

Your eyes widened, and to your annoyance, you felt a faint heat rise to your face, and you knew you were blushing. “Keep that loud mouth of yours shut. You have no idea what I like.”

“If you don’t like being on top…then maybe you should move.”

To your surprise, he dropped his dagger, his hands slithering through your hold. You felt them gliding up your bare arms, then back down your sides (what the hell was he doing?!), and when he got to your waist, he pushed upwards, raising you up just enough to be able to slide one leg between the two of you. In an impressive display of flexibility, he brought his knee up to his chest, placing his foot over your stomach and launching you over his head.

You twisted in midair, going into a flip that would both turn you upright again, and spin you around so you were facing him.

Landing in a kneeling position, you paused, waiting as he turned himself back over, going into a crouch. The two of you studied each other, taking stock of the situation. Each of you had one dagger left; his second one was still buried in the pillar from his failed warp, while yours was lying next to him.

Your gaze flicked between the two daggers, calculating. You wouldn’t be able to warp to his side to retrieve your blade fast enough; he would snatch it up before you ever got there, and then you would be forced to meet him unarmed. But would he rather go for his own dagger, or would he settle for yours?

This question was answered as you saw the muscles of his arm tense in preparation for movement – he was going for your blade. Well, two could play that game. Swiftly, you tossed your one remaining weapon at the pillar where his own dagger was, and you felt yourself pulled into the warp just as he grabbed your blade, standing up and turning around in preparation for where you would land.

As soon as you touched down on the pillar, you yanked his dagger free, along with your own, dropping to the ground and swiftly turning to face him. You knew he wouldn’t be still for long; even though he could stand completely motionless for hours while on guard duty, in combat, he was always moving; a veritable whirlwind on the field.

Nyx was halfway across the arena in the time it took you to land and turn to look at him once more. Sparks flew as the four blades connected between you, the loud ringing of metal the only thing you could hear, save for two sets of heavy breathing…and his voice.

“That big dagger doesn’t suit a sweet little thing like you. Why not give it back?” His voice all but caressed you as he spoke; there was something almost sinful about it.

“That’s a good one, considering you took my dagger first. Elegance like that doesn’t belong in the hands of someone so unrefined. You hand mine over first, then I’ll return yours,” you shot back, watching as he blinked in surprise at your retort before laughing.

“All right, fair enough. I probably had that coming. But before I give you back your dagger, you gotta back down.” With difficulty, he took a step forward, bringing his body almost completely against yours. Like this, you could see the two dark marks on his face, one on his right cheek, the other beneath his left eye. Suddenly, your eyes narrowed, and you looked a bit closer.

What you had always assumed to be beauty marks were actually minuscule tattoos, you saw. You’d seen the other ones on his body, but those were much easier to identify. These, you had never paid much attention to, until now.

“Huh…” you murmured quietly, tilting your head slightly to the side. Your arms were beginning to shake with the strain of holding him off; you had to move quickly before your strength gave out. But you could still manage this, if you did it carefully.

He raised one eyebrow. “What?” His voice was wary, now. Good. You didn’t like the way he had been talking to you before. That tone of voice had sent a chill up your spine that set you on edge.

“I didn’t know those were tattoos.” You let your gaze flick downward suggestively. “Where else are you hiding ink?”

One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Wanna find out?”

“Mm, I think I’ll pass. Being this close to you…just doesn’t do it for me.” With that, your arms went slack, and the blades closed in. But before they could strike you, you had fallen backwards, tucking into a roll that would bring you away from him.

Nyx recovered quickly, taking a step forward before he could lose his balance, and bracing himself for whatever attack you were no doubt planning next.

While you would have liked nothing better than to go all out on him, you knew that you couldn’t. The clash the two of you had just had was already pushing the rules, and you didn’t want to break them. Thanks to the training both of you had, chances were good that nothing would happen, but there was still that small chance that one of you would injure the other, and dressed as you were, that wound could be debilitating, or even fatal.

Instead, you backed away, circling around the pillar to give yourself time to think. As you did this, you sheathed the single dagger that belonged to you, deciding that you wouldn’t be relying on warping for the time being. It might put you at a disadvantage, since he most likely wouldn’t make the same concession, but you wanted this to be a close-combat battle, which was your specialty. You wanted him put off-balance for once in his life, and you wanted it to be at your hand.

Slowly, you emerged from the other side of the pillar, and Nyx took in your empty hand with some surprise. But you didn’t give him a chance to think about what this might mean as you suddenly lunged forward, leaping up and going into a spinning kick aimed at his ribs. He caught your ankle on his arm before you could connect, pushing upwards so you were forced to flip upside down.

You caught yourself on your hands and pushed backwards, only to use the pillar behind you as a springboard to launch yourself at him again. Your assault was relentless, forcing him to go on the defensive, which you knew he never liked to do. Nyx was an offensive fighter, through and through.

But so were you. And you had the advantage of speed. There was no mistake that Nyx was very quick, but he also outweighed and outmassed you, and that worked against him in this fight.

He blocked the flurry of kicks and punches you attempted to land on him, not realizing that you had your eyes set on a different prize: your dagger. With each blow, you came a little closer, circling around him so he had to keep turning in place to fend you off. The entire time, you were watching him closely, waiting…

There!

Finally, you saw your chance. You feinted into a high kick, and when he raised his arms to block it, you spun beneath his guard, coming up inches away from him and slamming the palm of your hand into his wrist, jarring your blade out of his hold. You snatched it up before he could recover, dancing backwards with a small smile on your face.

Nyx shook his wrist to chase away the sting of your blow, eyeing you appreciatively. “Not bad. But now you owe me a dagger.” He crooked one finger towards you in a “come here” motion. “Hand it over, now.”

For a moment, you considered denying him the request, making him come get it himself, and take it from you the way you had been forced to do with your own blade. But you didn’t trust him to end it there; he very well might end up taking your weapons away from you in the process, just because he could.

That made up your mind, and you tossed his blade back to him. He caught it in midair, and you noticed that your easy acceptance of his demand had taken him off-guard. This made you smile. You liked seeing him this way.

But the fight wasn’t over yet. The two of you began circling each other, waiting and watching to see what the other would do.

Nyx made the first move, shifting his hold on one of his blades and throwing it at you. No, not at you. The blade flew past your side with inches to spare, and he vanished in a burst of sparks. You barely had time to turn around before he descended upon you, and you raised your daggers in a crossed defense, catching his blades. Locking your elbows so he couldn’t use his greater strength to push your arms down, you clenched your teeth.

“This seems a little familiar,” you commented, your voice betraying the strain your body was currently under as you tried to keep yourself from folding beneath him.

“You noticed that, too? Guess I’m a sucker for routine.”

You knew that it wouldn’t end the same way as it had before, though; your trembling arms were already being forced downward, the blades inching closer. If you were going to do something, it had to be now.

Collecting your strength, you gave both sets of daggers a hard push upwards, matching his retreat as he was forced to take a step back. This movement brought your body flush with his, and you could feel each and every hard plane of his form pressing against you.

He exhaled harshly, and you thought you saw a change in his eyes. There seemed to be a little more darkness, a little less blue. “Careful, now. You’re playing with fire,” he murmured, loud enough for only you to be able to hear him. A faint smile came to his face. “Unless you wanna get burned?”

“Fire doesn’t scare me,” you replied, attempting to slide one of your daggers out from beneath his and break free. But he was having none of it. You felt him hook one foot around your ankle, yanking hard. Unbalanced, you fell back, and before you had a chance to recover, he was straddling you, one large hand on your hip to keep you from swinging back up to your feet, while the other had a dagger pressed to your throat.

But he wasn’t the winner of this fight – one of your own blades was rested against his lower stomach. You were at a stalemate.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his rough thumb caress the strip of bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your pants. He only did it once, but that was enough.

It wasn’t the way he might touch you if he was simply adjusting his grip.

No, that had been deliberate.

“Looks like we’re in for round two sometime,” he commented casually, though his voice was lower than usual, and slightly raspy.

“What, once wasn’t enough for you?” you asked, trying to return things to some semblance of normalcy. Your skin was tingling where he had touched you, and you weren’t sure that it was unpleasant.

He smirked, and his next words were laced with meaning. “Trust me, once is never enough.”

You twisted your hips in an attempt to dislodge him. “Get off me already.” You were aware that people were staring, and you didn’t want any rumors to get started because Nyx had remained in contact with you just a couple of minutes longer than necessary.

“Sure thing,” he agreed amicably, pulling himself to his feet and offering you a hand, which you smacked away. You didn’t need anyone to help you up, least of all him.

Sheathing your daggers, you turned away, moving across the ring to collect the rest of your uniform and put it on. As you did, you had to admit that you’d had more fun than you had anticipated – although this wasn’t hard to do, since you hadn’t thought you would have any. While you fastened your jacket, you turned your head just enough to be able to see him out of the corner of one eye.

He was in the process of replacing his own clothes, though he took less care with it than you did, only giving a couple of tugs to make sure everything fell the way it was supposed to, rather than painstakingly smoothing down the fabric, as you had done. He never was one to care much about his appearance, you knew, even though he was always immaculate when he had to appear before his superiors. That was one of the odd things about Nyx; he was never sloppy in anything he did, but somehow seemed to maintain an air of carelessness about him most of the time. It was one of the things that just added to his roguish charm.

Too bad you weren’t falling for it.

As if he could feel your gaze on him, Nyx turned around to face you, giving you a wave. “Nice warmup. But how about we try it again sometime – no holds barred?”

Now that was tempting. The only time you could unleash your full potential was on the battlefield, but you were always too tense to really enjoy it. The threat of imminent death always casting a shadow on you tended to dampen your enjoyment of a good fight, so the notion of being able to do it in a safe place – and against him, no less – was something that had you nodding your agreement before you could even think twice about it.

“You’re on.”

He blinked in surprise, having expected you to refuse, given your constant hostility around him. But maybe you were starting to warm up to him, just a little. That made him smile. Maybe he could get through to you, yet.

Two days later, you stood at the edge of the building, the wind whipping your hair around your face. In each gloved hand, you held one of your daggers. Your heart pounded in your chest as you gazed down at the ground hundreds of feet below. Heights had never been your favorite thing, so this was more difficult than it should have been. But it was a challenge you weren’t about to back down from, especially since it was a hurdle that was guaranteed to get in the way of your duties if you didn’t overcome it.

Taking a deep breath, you raised one arm, and threw the dagger as hard as you could. Almost before it had finished sinking into the stone of the structure across from you, your form had vanished in a crackle of blue light, only to reappear again in another burst, the almost electrical sound of the completed warp tickling at your senses. You would never get used to that surreal feeling of your body literally skipping through space and time like that.

But you didn’t have time to think about it. Hanging from your precarious perch, you turned your body halfway, clinging tightly to the embedded dagger before throwing the other one back at the building you had just left. As you felt the warp tugging at you again, you yanked the first blade free of the stone.

Jump after jump, you continued warping your way down the building. Forty feet from the ground, you threw your weapon straight down, where it landed hilt-up in the concrete.

But just as you felt your body beginning to disintegrate, you saw a tall form cloaked in the Kingsglaive raiment striding across the square. He didn’t see the dagger, you realized. He didn’t see you above him.

You were going to collide, and it was too late to cancel the warp.

Having enough foresight to move the blade you still held out of the way so you wouldn’t accidentally stab him, you hit him hard, instinctively curling up to protect yourself as the two of you went down in a tangle of limbs and leather.

Though your landing was softer than usual thanks to the man beneath you, it still hurt. But what made things even worse was the familiar “Oof” of pain that resounded in your ears, and the scent of leather – which, admittedly, everyone in the Kingsglaive carried – twining around the man’s own personal scent; familiar soap that smelled like rain, and a faint hint of what could almost be called wood smoke (was that some type of aftershave, or was it a scent that came from his magic use? You didn’t know).

“Astrals damn it, Nyx, watch where you’re going!” you all but shouted, trying to extricate yourself from your pseudo-nemesis. He was sprawled out on his stomach beneath you, and you were lying diagonally across his back, turned halfway onto your side and narrowly having missed impaling yourself on the ribbed metal horn that was attached to the hood of his jacket. You could feel his braids tickling your face as you attempted to sit up.

He looked back at you over his shoulder with an innocent look on his face, but you could see his slate-blue eyes dancing wickedly. As borderline-suicidal as it was, you were almost certain he had done that on purpose.

“I was watching where I was going,” he replied mildly, showing no signs of getting up. In fact, his only movement was to somehow squirm his way onto his back, leaving you practically lying flush against him. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching you in amusement. “It’s not my fault it suddenly started raining women, now, is it? Not that I’m complaining about that…”

Delivering a frustrated punch to his solid chest – which didn’t do much, given that you hadn’t put your weight behind it – you pulled yourself to your feet, yanking your second dagger out of the ground and sliding both weapons into their sheaths, which were strapped to the outside of each of your thighs.

“You know it’s dangerous to just walk out into the square like that; we use it for training all the time. Didn’t you see my dagger?” you asked him, shifting from one foot to the other and making sure that you hadn’t broken anything. When you had ascertained that you were unharmed, you quickly dusted off your uniform, straightening it out.

“Mm, can’t say that I did.” With a sigh, he stood up, crossing his arms and tilting his head slightly to the side as he watched you. “Always Miss Prim and Proper, aren’t you? Just can’t stand to get a little dirty.”

“That’s not the point,” you grumbled. It wasn’t like that; you just needed something to keep your fingers occupied so they didn’t find their way around his neck and strangle him. Murdering one of your fellow Glaive was the type of thing your superiors frowned upon, after all. When you were sure that you had exhausted the excuse of straightening your uniform, you turned to face him once more. “More importantly, how is it that you always seem to be in the exact same place I am more often than not? It’s like you have some kind of radar that just homes in on me.”

“You shouldn’t flatter yourself like that; how do I know you’re not following me?”

“That would be a valid point, if you ever showed up in a particular place first. But it’s always the other way around. I’m alone in a place, and then suddenly, there you are. What would have happened if you’d walked out before I threw that dagger? Or what if I couldn’t move the other one out of the way fast enough? You could have been killed.”

“Nah. It would take more than those little toothpicks to kill me. When I go out, it’s going to be in a blaze of glory, not because someone fell on me.” He paused. “Why, are you worried you might have hurt me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a good fighter, and we’d be worse off without you. I’m just thinking about the rest of the Glaive, not you in particular.”

Nyx reached up, clutching his chest. “Ow… You really know how to cut a man where it hurts, don’t you?”

“Keep bumping into me, and you’ll find out.” You ran your fingers over the hilts of your daggers pointedly, making sure that he got the hint.

This made him give a short chuckle. “Maybe I will…” With an enigmatic backwards glance, he gave you a careless wave, continuing on his way to wherever he had been going before he’d quite literally collided with you.

You shook your head, turning in the opposite direction and beginning the long trek back up to the top of the building you had just warped down from. Back to square one. But as you walked, your pace began to slow. Come to think of it, Nyx really did seem to be everywhere you might show up at. Two or three times was a coincidence, but he had found you time and time again, even when you hadn’t told anyone else where you would be going. How did he keep doing that, and why…?

You came to a complete stop as what had just happened replayed itself in your mind, and you realized something you hadn’t noticed at first. The square you’d just left was very large, and he’d started walking out into it when you were about two-thirds of the way down the building. That meant…

Suddenly, you spun on your heel, turning around and taking off after the infuriating Glaive.

It didn’t take you long to find him. He hadn’t gotten very far down the sunlit hallway, allowing you to easily catch him. Before he had a chance to say anything to you, you had grabbed his wrist, hauling him into an empty room and closing the door behind the two of you.

You faced him once more, taking in the bewildered look on his face.

“Okaaay…this is new. What was it you were saying about not following me?” He arched one eyebrow, casually bracing his fist on one cocked hip as he waited to hear your explanation for why you had suddenly cornered him like this.

You began to pace slowly back and forth, trying to line up your rather chaotic thoughts. “You know, the more I thought about it, the more I started to believe that it was all just a little too convenient. You really do show up wherever I am, at all hours of the day, even when you shouldn’t have been able to find me. And I know that you saw my dagger. You were already partway across the square when I threw it; there’s no way you would have missed it. You’re a Glaive – specially trained to notice details like that, especially if it’s a potential weapon that’s raining down on you. Even though you saw it, you still walked out there, knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop the warp before I hit you. You could have waited, or even walked around where I was going to land. There’s no rational reason for it whatsoever, so why would you walk right beneath me, knowing that I would crash into you? Why, Nyx?”

With these last words, you abruptly turned to face him once more, standing mere inches away. Your eyes bored into his, you weren’t going to give him the opportunity to dodge the question or change the subject. You were getting to the bottom of this, now.

For a long moment, Nyx simply gazed at you, his expression unreadable. But then there was a sudden movement, and the next thing you knew, he had taken your face between his hands, the smooth material of the leather covering his palms a sharp contrast to the roughness of his bare fingers. His mouth descended on yours with almost bruising force, and you felt yourself freeze, unable to think of the correct way to respond to this.

He held the kiss for what felt like an eternity before finally breaking away, though he kept his hands where they were. “Damn it, woman, you’re almost as infuriating as you say I am. I’ve been trying for weeks to provoke you into coming after me like this, and you refused to do it. What took you so long? I thought I was actually going to have to throw myself in front of a daemon to get your attention.”

You blinked, trying to make sense of his words. Finally, slowly, you reached up, placing your hands over his. Then without warning, you dug your nails into the leather, hard enough that he would be able to feel it.

“You idiot! All this time, you’ve been doing this just to get my attention? What are you, twelve? You’re one step away from pulling my hair on the playground!”

He hissed at the sudden sting, yanking his hands back and shaking them out. “I didn’t exactly have a lot of choices. If I’d come right out and asked you to go out with me sometime, would you have said yes?”

“Probably not.” You didn’t even have to think about your answer.

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought. So I knew the only way I could get you alone would be to make you so angry, you’d have no choice but to come find me. I knew I would probably end up with my ass kicked, but I figured it would be worth it. I thought I had you the day before yesterday in the ring, but that damn self-control of yours just…got in the way.”

“So take the hint already,” you almost snarled, not liking the way his kiss had sent a flood of heat spiraling through you. “There’s a reason I avoid you, in case you didn’t notice.”

“And what reason is that?” He was watching you closely, slate-blue eyes taking in the furious rising and falling of your chest as you breathed, studying the way you were glaring at him, paying very close attention to the partially-hidden emotions he could see in your eyes.

“Because…” You stepped forward, placing your finger against his chest and poking him with each word. “I can’t stand you.”

One eyebrow arched. “Yeah? I think you’re lying. If you hate me so much, then why do you keep using my first name? You don’t do that with someone you hate.”

This made you blink, momentarily at a loss for words. He had you there. You’d never thought about addressing him any other way. He had always been Nyx to you, even when you were absolutely furious with him. Your mouth opened and closed soundlessly, unable to think of anything to say in your defense.

“Screw you,” you muttered at last. “You are so damn irritating, and you make me want to…to…�� The next thing you knew, your hands had fisted into the collar of his jacket, and you were standing on tiptoe, your mouth on his in a searing kiss that you felt all the way through your body. His own hands came up to wrap around you, one on your lower back, the other behind your head, twining through your hair.

Somehow, your fingers found their way down to the buckle that held the garment closed, and you deftly unfastened it, yanking the edges open before pushing it off his broad shoulders. He had to release you to shrug off the jacket, but as soon as it was gone, he had unerringly found the clasps on the one you wore, and he made short work of them. His hands slid inside, feeling the warmth of your body, and he pulled you tightly against him, nipping at your bottom lip in a silent demand for entry.

You obliged, opening your mouth and letting his tongue enter, but you weren’t ready to relinquish complete control, and you quickly forced him back out, following him into his own mouth. The two of you went back and forth, each trying to assert dominance over the other, and neither one willing to give way.

He reached up to grasp your wrists, pulling your arms down and allowing him to slide your jacket off, where it soon joined his.

Nyx broke the kiss first, but he wasn’t finished with you; his mouth trailed down your neck, placing surprisingly gentle bites along the skin, until suddenly, he sank his teeth into your shoulder, deep enough to make you gasp, your body jerking against his. You should have known that he wouldn’t let you get through this without some form of proof of what had happened.

Licking the bruised flesh softly, he leaned back just enough to see what he was doing as his fingers slid down over your sides, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head, leaving you in a sheer black bra. His eyes drank in the sight of your bared skin, lingering on the fading bruises you had accumulated during training before finally zeroing in on your bra, and he grinned.

“Oh, please tell me you wore that just for me.”

“The hell I did,” you grumbled, finding the hem of his shirt in response, all but ripping it off and revealing his torso to you. You paused for a moment, unable to keep yourself from getting a better look at him. His upper body was riddled with numerous faded scars, some prominent against his lightly tanned skin, others barely visible. Placing your hands on the tops of his pants, you traced over every ridge of his abdomen, trailing slowly upward, your fingers hesitating over the healed scars, feeling their slick surface.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone – least of all the man himself – but the sight of Nyx standing there in front of you half-dressed sent a bolt of arousal straight to your core, and you clenched your thighs together tightly in an attempt to stave off the surge of heat. How was it that someone you wanted to strangle on a daily basis could make you feel like this? You didn’t think you had ever wanted anyone more in your entire life. And that just made you even angrier.

You were on him again in an instant, leaving a string of bites across the top of his chest and along his collarbones, most of them hard enough to turn the skin pink. If he was going to make you remember this, then you were going to return the favor.

His hands came down to your hips, and you felt yourself being lifted against him. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he turned, carrying you across the room and putting you down on a table that had been tucked away in a corner. As soon as you parted from him, his fingers were at your belt buckle, unfastening it, and then going directly to your pants, which received the same treatment.

“Raise up,” he growled, drawing the garment down a few inches. When you lifted your hips, he quickly slid them the rest of the way down, pausing only long enough to unstrap the sheaths where you kept your daggers from around your thighs before pulling off your boots and tossing them carelessly aside. Your pants soon followed, leaving you clad only in a bra and panties.

He situated himself between your legs, one arm going around you to find the clasp of your bra, which quickly came undone (privately, you were impressed by his ability to do that with only one hand) while the fingers of his other hand dipped down over your stomach, coming into contact with the scrap of fabric that was the only thing separating your core from his touch.

But he didn’t let this stop him, as he began to rub circles around the sensitive area, locating the bundle of nerves that he knew would be the key to your undoing.

You moaned softly, draping your arms over his shoulders and pulling him close, burying your face in his shoulder and inhaling his scent, which had become far too familiar to you. Pleasure slowly saturated your body, setting your nerves alight and making you want more.

Unfortunately, Nyx wasn’t going to make it that easy. He leaned back just enough to be able to look down at you. “Tell me what you want, babe,” he said, his voice low and silky.

Your eyes hardened as you gazed back at him. What he was doing felt good, but it wasn’t even close to being enough, and he refused to slip past the barrier of your panties and touch you directly. But did you want it enough to swallow your pride and give him what he wanted?

While he waited, he continued to leisurely circle the bud, one finger barely ghosting over it every now and then, to remind you of what could be yours, if you just gave in.

You clenched your teeth, suddenly pulling him back to you for a fierce kiss. When you finally broke it, you kept him close, so you could whisper in his ear. “Touch me.”

The pleasure he had been giving you abruptly stopped, but that was because he was currently tugging your panties off, and finally, you felt his fingers come into contact with bare flesh. You gasped, your legs unconsciously widening as he plunged a single finger into you, not even bothering to remove his gloves first. Caught up in the pleasure you were feeling, you didn’t notice his hand disappear into the pocket of his pants for a moment.

Nyx was a bit startled by what he found. He was met with no resistance as the digit slid into you; your essence coated him liberally, the liquid proof of your state of arousal impossible to miss. “Damn, you’re already this wet for me? I’m flattered.” Realizing that he wasn’t going to hurt you, he added a second finger, and your passage became more snug around him; he would have to work for a third. His thumb came up to roll over the bundle of nerves above your entrance, and your hips jerked in response as the pleasure suddenly spiked.

“Just prove that you’re worth it,” you told him, though he was already doing a fairly good job of it.

Something flared within his lust-darkened eyes, then. “Is that a challenge?” he asked softly. “Because whatever expectations you might have, I’ll destroy them.”

As his fingers continued their devastating work within you, he pulled off your bra, pushing you back so that you had to catch yourself on your elbows. He leaned over you, mouth hovering just above your breasts. “I’ve been wondering what these would feel like in my mouth for a while now,” he commented, almost to himself. “I think it’s high time I found out, don’t you?”

Without waiting for a response, he made good on his threat, his tongue flickering across the peak before he bit down, the sensation stopping just short of pain. You knew you would have another mark there, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was the release he was slowly pushing you towards.

Your hands slid up his back, leaving behind faint pink lines as your nails scratched over his skin. He gave a soft moan at the sting, but made no other protest.

You flinched slightly as you felt him slowly sliding a third finger into your entrance, stretching you. Despite the roughness you had both shown up to this point, he was careful, not wanting to cause you actual pain.

But the discomfort soon faded, and before long, you were moving your hips in tandem with his hand, trying to wring as much pleasure out of the movements as you could. There was a faint tightness in your abdomen that signaled your release, but it was still out of reach. You needed more. And you were sure there was only one way that you were going to get it, however much you might dislike the notion.

You tugged on the end of one of his braids to get his attention, and he left off his ministrations to your breast to look up at you.

“Something wrong?” he asked, and you saw that there was a knowing look in his eyes.

Though you opened your mouth to reply, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at first. He hadn’t demanded anything of you this time; you were doing this of your own free will. But it was very possible that he knew his touch wouldn’t be enough to send you over the edge, and he was just waiting for you to come to the same conclusion and take matters into your own hands, so to speak. But at this point, you were too far gone to really care. You wanted that release, desperately. You even wanted it to be at his hands.

“Damn it, Nyx, you know exactly what’s wrong,” you told him. Your legs were trembling as the pleasure flowed through you, but it still wasn’t enough. He was insisting on playing dumb, though, and simply blinked, waiting for you to continue your train of thought.

“Enlighten me.”

Enough was enough. Reaching down, you pulled his fingers from you, positioning them above your entrance. “Make me come,” you said, your voice soft. It wasn’t a request, and for a moment, you thought he was going to ignore you. His personality was just as strong-willed as yours was, and eventually, one of them would have to submit to the other.

But it looked like he would let it slide this time as something seemed to snap within him, and his mouth captured yours in a kiss that took your breath away with its ferocity. He didn’t need any further coaxing as his fingers went to work, dancing across the bundle of nerves with a speed and accuracy that would have left you panting, had your mouth not been otherwise occupied.

Unable to hold back a soft cry of sheer pleasure, you broke the kiss, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, losing yourself in the sensations flowing through your body as you clung to him, helpless beneath his touch.

“Hearing those words come from that pretty mouth… I don’t think you realize what you’ve just done,” he whispered in your ear, tilting your head to the side to nibble at your neck. “I’ll be a gentleman and give you what you want first, but then… Then you’re mine.”

At this point, you didn’t care. All that mattered was the pressure slowly building within you as your release crept closer and closer. Your entire body trembled against his larger frame, and he held you close, patiently waiting for your climax to wash over you. It wouldn’t be long, he knew; he recognized the telltale signs of your body working itself up to the breaking point.

And then, through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind, you heard him say something that made you open your eyes.

“Say my name when you come,” he commanded, making sure that you knew which one of you was in control of the situation. He might have given in to your request, but that didn’t mean he had submitted to you. Far from it, in fact; he intended to exert his dominion over you very soon – this was just the first step. “I want to make sure you know who it is giving you your release.”

He was enjoying this, damn him. And the worst part of the entire thing was that you were enjoying it, too. You didn’t break easily, and you certainly never thought you would be broken by someone like Nyx Ulric, yet here you were, slowly unravelling beneath his expert touch.

Before you had time to formulate a reply, searing pleasure shot through your body, causing your hips to jerk against him, and he tightened his hold on you as you rode out your climax. His fingers continued to work over you as you shuddered violently, and you felt him nip your neck, making sure he had your attention.

“Say it, babe,” he crooned.

“Nyx,” you breathed, your voice laced with intense pleasure.

The blue-eyed Glaive felt a shiver race up his spine at the sensual sound of your voice. He hadn’t known that anything could sound that way, least of all the spitting viper that you usually turned into when he was nearby.

“Gods, I love hearing you say my name like that…” Any more cries of pleasure you might have made were cut off as he kissed you, his tongue sweeping into your mouth before you had time to gather the pieces your fragmented consciousness enough to force him back out.

His hand slowed its work once he was sure you were coming down from your post-release high, and then finally stopped altogether, dipping down for a moment to collect some of your essence. He waited until your eyes opened again and were fixed on him before he raised the glistening digits to his mouth, carefully licking them clean.

You watched in a curious mixture of fascination and mortification as he did this. It was starting to become clear that he was going to end up pushing every one of your buttons, and that you wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop him.

“As much as I would like to have a better taste, I think that’s going to have to wait. There are other things I’d rather do at the moment. Next time, though…” His voice dripped with sinful promise, making your narrow your eyes.

“What makes you think there’s even going to be a next time?” you asked.

He grinned in response, and you could practically see the daemon horns curling up from his head. “Like I told you in the ring: once is never enough. I think it’s safe to say that applies to this, too.”

You gave a hiss of annoyance through your teeth, pushing him off of you and sliding from the surface of the table. While it was tempting to just gather your clothes and leave him there to take care of himself, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Instead, your fingers found the strap that held the sheath of his dagger against his back, unfastening it and dropping it to the floor. That done, you went to work on his belt, and then his pants.

He didn’t give you the chance to undress him the way he’d done to you; the instant the button on his pants came loose, he was kicking them off, along with his boots, and in a matter of seconds, he was just as bare as you were, except for the gloves you both wore. Oddly, this single article of clothing left just turned you on even more than you already were, and you didn’t protest when he made no move to take them off.

Your head tilted slightly to the side as you got your first look at his unclothed form, and you had to admit, you liked what you saw. His length was quite impressive, and you were rather interested to see that the scars which littered his torso extended down over his hips and legs, as well. He’d had a hard life; that much was obvious.

But you only got to study him for a moment before his hands were on you again, turning you around and pushing you against the table. Lifting one of your legs, he positioned your knee on the surface, so you were braced partially on top of it. Pressing himself against your back, he took hold of himself, sliding his length along your slick folds for a few moments.

Aligning himself with your entrance, he pushed forward slowly, pausing after every inch to allow you to become accustomed to him. When he was halfway in, he suddenly snapped his hips against yours, filling you completely and causing you to give a cry that was neither pleasure nor pain, but a mix of both.

When he was fully seated within you, he stopped again, pulling you back against him and rubbing his face against your neck. You could feel the rough scratch of his unshaven whiskers against the tender skin of your throat, and you found that you liked the sensation. Reaching up, you placed one hand on his arm, the other curling back behind his head.

Your fingers curled into his braids, and you gave a soft yank to pull his head back so you could reach his neck, trailing a line of kisses along the flesh. Slowly, you began to move your hips, trying to encourage him to do the same.

A deep chuckle made its way out of his throat; you could feel the vibrations through his chest. “What, are you getting a little impatient? Well, who am I to deny a lady what she wants?” He paused, then, a wicked glint appearing in his blue eyes. “Especially when what she wants is me.”

With a soft growl, you raised your mouth from his neck. “Shut up and move.”

The hand that was rested on your waist tightened its grip, and you had to remove your own hand from behind his head in order to brace yourself on the edge of the table as he set up a fast and hard rhythm that left you jolting forward each time his hips met yours.

You moaned quietly, feeling him brush your hair back off one shoulder and beginning to nibble at the exposed skin, leaving progressively harder bites as he went, though he never crossed the line into pain.

“I never thought you would feel this good around me,” he murmured in your ear, his voice somewhat strained as his own pleasure began to flow through him. Your walls were tight around him, and even though his passage was eased by your earlier release, the amount of friction was enough to make him moan.

He’d wanted you for quite some time now, and he’d gotten bolder with his advances as time went on, once he realized that you gave as good as you got, rather than being offended or upset. He usually wasn’t so aggressive in his pursuits…but then, he’d never found a woman like you before. You fought him every step of the way, and that just made him want you more. He had a suspicion that you didn’t hate him as much as you claimed to; despite what your words said, your body told a different story. It had taken him a while to be sure, but once he was, he leapt in without hesitation, knowing that it was only a matter of time before he broke past that iron wall you had built around yourself.

He had known that he would enjoy himself when he finally had you at his mercy, and he’d fully intended to make sure you got more than your share of pleasure out of it, as well, but now that he was finally sheathed inside of you, he found that the experience exceeded all of his expectations. You had been well worth the wait, he decided, and he knew that, one way or the other, he would find a way to lure you back into his arms again.

Abruptly, he pulled out of you, making you give a soft mewl of protest. Turning you around, he lifted you back onto the surface of the table, drawing your legs around his waist before plunging himself back inside you. He wanted to be able to see your face, rather than having your back to him.

Your arms went around him, and you buried your face in his neck, letting him hold you tightly against his surprisingly muscular body. One hand raised, and he ran his thumb gently over your cheek in a tender gesture.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he murmured, knowing you weren’t going to like this. Sure enough, you stiffened against him, your fingernails digging crescents into his shoulderblades. But still he held you, not letting you pull away. “Even if it’s not true…” he added quickly, in an attempt to placate your volatile temper, “…just say it.”

“You want empty words?” you asked, raising your head so you could look him in the eye. But even as you asked this, trying to put disdain into your voice, you knew that it hadn’t had quite the amount of bite you’d wanted.

Empty for you, maybe, he thought to himself. Out loud, he simply said, “Humor me.”

Your second climax was beginning to build, and you knew that, as it did, your inhibitions were slipping away. Release was like being drunk; once it had hold of you, it made you say and do things you otherwise would never have done. It made you reckless, and you knew that you would say anything, do anything if it would just continue a little longer, keeping you locked in that exquisite ecstasy that wiped all rational thought from your mind.

For several long seconds, you said nothing, the only sounds in the room a combination of heavy breathing, and the rhythmic sound of his hips crashing against yours as he pushed you inexorably towards the abyss.

But finally, you reached up, and for a moment he went still, thinking you might slap him. Instead, you placed your hand against the side of his face, and leaned forward to kiss him. It was the softest kiss you had given him thus far, and it stunned him. He didn’t think you had it in you to be this gentle.

When you broke it, instead of pulling away, you leaned back only far enough to be able to speak, and you gave him what he wanted, not sure if the words were quite as empty as you’d claimed. “I’m yours, Nyx.”

These three words broke whatever shred of composure he had left, and he thrust into you almost viciously, his hand snaking down and finding the bundle of nerves that had sent you over the edge before. He rubbed his fingers over it frantically, causing you to cry out as you were suddenly slingshotted into your second release, throwing your head back, your nails digging shallow channels into his back.

“Nyx!” Though he hadn’t asked for it, you all but screamed his name as almost painful pleasure sank its claws into you, ripping into your nerves and leaving them laid bare.

This sent him tumbling over the edge after you, and you clung to each other as you both descended into white-hot bliss. Vaguely, you felt him bury his face against your throat, and you gasped as he bit down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, adding one more mark to the pattern he had already left on you.

His almost-burning heat filled you, but you weren’t bothered by it, except to wonder how you would be cleaning yourself up afterwards. But that was a far-away thought, and something that you didn’t particularly want to focus on at the moment.

Instead, you ran your fingers through the short, dark hair of your nemesis-turned-lover, feeling almost mellow towards him – for now. When you’d told him to prove that he was worth it, he had certainly risen to the challenge, and then some. You hadn’t felt anything like that in quite a while, and it raised your opinion of him a notch. He was a damn good lover.

Finally, Nyx extracted himself from you, wandering around the room for a moment until he returned with a square of cloth (where had he found that?), which he gently used to clean himself off you. Once all trace of your combined release had been cleaned away, he tended to himself before returning to you, placing his hands on either side of the table and preventing you from getting up.

“So,” he said casually, his slate-blue eyes glittering. “Was it any good?”

With an impatient click of your tongue, you pushed him away, standing up and collecting your clothes, methodically putting them on. But as you did, you realized something.

Your panties were gone.

Brow furrowing, you spun to look at him, noticing the almost impish way he was looking at you. “Give them,” you demanded, holding out one hand.

“Give what?” he asked innocently.

“Give me back my underwear, Nyx.” Your voice was a growl now.

He held up his hands. “I don’t have them. You must have lost them somewhere. Guess you’ll have to go without until you’re off-duty for the day.”

For a long time, you stared at him, your hard gaze meeting his amused one. But he wasn’t about to back down this time. He was going to keep a memento of this, even though it was one that you were far from pleased about. The marks he had left on your body (and the ones you had left on his) would fade, but this was tangible, lasting proof of what had happened, and he wasn’t going to let that go.

At last, you turned back around without another word, sliding your pants on and fastening them, sans panties. It would be a bit uncomfortable, but you could deal with it until you returned home that evening.

Nyx grinned, realizing that he’d won this round. He replaced his own boots and pants, watching you as you straightened your clothing. Unable to help himself, he moved over to you, pressing himself against your back and wrapping his arms around you. You stiffened, but didn’t try to shake him off.

“You smell like me,” he whispered into your ear. “I could get used to that.”

“Don’t get too attached,” you warned him, but your voice had lost some of the venom it once carried. “This was a one-time thing.”

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, babe.”

Finally pulling out of his hold, you cast him one final glance over your shoulder, your expression unreadable. “No one learns about this, understand?” That was the last thing you needed; you were already teased enough without anyone finding out that you’d just been given two of the best releases of your life by the man you claimed to hate.

“Don’t worry, I know how to keep my mouth shut,” he replied, reaching for his sleeveless shirt and tugging it over his head, covering up the scratches and bite marks you had left on his already-scarred body.

You snorted. “Huh…could have fooled me.” With that, you turned and left the room, closing the door behind you. But as you walked down the hallway, feeling a deep, not unpleasant ache between your thighs, his words echoed in your mind.

Trust me, once is never enough.

You hadn’t wanted to believe it at the time, but he might have just been right about that.

  Author’s Notes:  Nyx is a bit of a strange one to figure out. I see him having the potential to be one of two kinds of lovers. He can be gentle and tender, positively loving when he wants to be...

And then he can be aggressive and dominating, especially when he's denied something he really wants. That's kind of what happened here.That being said, though, holy hell is he fun to write for! I haven't had this much fun with a character in a long time. I've also never written angry sex, and that was more fun than I expected, too.

I might be doing a sequel to this one, exploring that sweet and tender side that I mentioned. ...eventually. There's still so much I want to write for all my boys!

[the-tales-of-horror]

A place called “Babyland”

Original Link By Nickbotic

A few years ago, I got into visiting scary locales. Cemeteries, abandoned buildings, etc. Since then, I’ve met my wife, who indulges me and joins in on these little endeavors. We exhausted all of the potentially spooky places around the city we live in and its surrounding areas. Then, after talking to people with similar interests, we decided to take a mini road trip, with the sole intention of visiting a specific place. It’s located in the state west of ours, about ten hours from our home. The name of this place is “Babyland”.

If you think that sounds like A. a place to buy things for a newborn, B. a theme restaurant for little kids, C. a daycare, or D. a place where gross atrocities are committed against children, you’re not alone. I didn’t think it sounded particularly creepy, but I was kind of off-put when the people we heard about it from were extremely reluctant to divulge any information about it, much less tell us where it was. After a few weeks of poking, prodding, and ultimately begging, we got one of the people to give us directions.

We looked up “Babyland” online and found nothing related to the supposedly creepy location to which we were headed. All we were going on was the suspiciously limited word of someone we didn’t really know besides having a single common interest. The reluctance of the rest of the--I don’t want to say “ghost-hunting” community, because that’s not really what we do, I guess I’ll just call it “thrill-seeking”--thrill-seeking community admittedly made both me and Kimmy that much more interested.

We timed our drive so we’d arrive at the destination around 10pm. It was located on an unmarked dirt road about 20 miles outside the nearest town. When we asked how we’d know we’d found the place, we were told we’d have no doubt about it. Trees began getting dense the further down the dirt road we went, and eventually we couldn’t see the moon or the stars anymore. Shortly after that, a previously non-existent fog became so thick that I couldn’t see more than three or four feet in front of the car.

Somehow, I knew as soon as that fog thickened to the point of near zero-visibility that we were in the right place. I looked at Kimmy and in what seemed like a movie-esque moment, she simply nodded her head in silent agreement. I pulled to the side of the road and parked the car. My wife and I got our flashlights and proceeded down the road on foot. We didn’t make it more than ten feet before our first glimpse into why this area was referred to as “Babyland” presented itself. The fog was so thick that even with the flashlight I walked right into it. A baby stroller was standing upright in the middle of the road.

It was an old-fashioned, cover-of-Rosemary’s-Baby style stroller. I looked inside it, but it was empty. A few steps farther, and we found that the road was, quite literally, littered with strollers, cribs, and playpens of all types and styles. It got to the point that they completely blocked the road. I talked to Kimmy, and we both felt like there was more to this area than just the abundance of baby shower gifts obstructing the road, so we went off to the side, into the trees.

Hanging from every few branches were mobiles, each lightly spinning from the gentle wind blowing through the forestry. We took caution with each step, if for no other reason than we couldn’t see anything in front of us, even with our flashlights. Though it could be attributed to the fact that we were in the middle of nowhere, we were surrounded by an absolute, almost ear-shattering silence. Even the wind didn’t make a sound. This silence was broken by a deafening howl that we both screamed at, as it was a noise we immediately recognized. It was the sound of a baby crying.

It took me a moment to register what had happened, but when I did, I was considerably less frightened. I’d stepped on a baby doll. Kimmy and I both offered one another an uncomfortable laugh and kept going. We found the floor of the woods to be lousy with both intact dolls as well as scattered limbs of different dolls. Shining our lights towards the branches above us revealed dolls perched on branches, many of which had no eyes, stationed like observant owls. It’s a difficult feeling to describe, but the fact that they were eyeless made it feel like they were watching us more intently than they would’ve been if they had them.

As the mobiles spun and the eyeless dolls looked on, we walked further into the woods, until we eventually heard another familiar sound in the distance. We stopped and listened intently until we were certain of what we were hearing: the crackling of a fire. Assuming we weren’t the only ones in “Babyland” on that particular night, we decided to head towards the fire and make ourselves known, so as not to spark a potentially dangerous confrontation. As we kept walking and the sound of the crackling fire got louder, we announced our presence, but were met with no response.

Eventually, through the fog, we saw the orange glow of a fire close to the ground. We were only about 20 feet away from the fire, but the fog had prevented us from seeing it any sooner. We made our way to it and found a small clearing, at the center of which a small bonfire was burning. Aside from the fire, the area looked like it hadn’t been inhabited anytime recently. The crackling of the fire was interrupted when a slightly more forceful gust of wind blew past us, and a creaking noise followed by a light knocking emanated from the opposite side of the fire, just past our severely limited field of vision.

We made our way around the fire and were taken aback when we found a roughly six foot tall dollhouse standing at the edge of the clearing. The door of the dollhouse was open, the wind causing its knob to knock against the face of the house. The darkness past the door seemed to envelope our confidence in being out there, but we reasoned that if there was anything inside, it was much smaller than we were. We approached the house and shined our lights inside, and found that just past the darkness, countless eyeless doll heads were stacked upon one another, from floor to ceiling, and wall to wall.

As I looked in the house, Kimmy happened to flash her light towards the ground around the fire, and pointed out to me that there were hundreds of footprints, the size of which lined up with the myriad of blind dolls that now sat in the branches and were scattered about the ground. I shut the door to the dollhouse and walked back over to the fire to observe the footprints for myself, and for a short moment, the crackling of the fire seemed to fade away, which gave way for a sound that made us turn white with fear: a baby crying in the distance. This time, neither of us had stepped on a doll. Then, a different pitch of crying began from a different direction. Before long, babies crying in all different tones surrounded us in a cacophony of terror.

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the fire died out, leaving nothing but smoldering embers and an uneven stream of smoke and ash being carried away by the wind. This prompted us to flee the area and make our way back to our car. The sounds of shrieking infants were joined by the now-active mobiles playing nursery rhyme tunes in horrific fashion, and both seemed to follow us all the way back to the dirt road on which our car was parked. We made it to the road, but came out of the woods at a different point than we’d entered, so we had to wade across the road through the mess of strollers, cribs, and playpens to our car, but when we got to it, the area was still full of all of those things. Where our car once sat unobstructed, now was surrounded by children’s necessities, and an eyeless doll sat on the hood. We opened our car doors and found the floor of the car to be covered in both doll’s dresses and random doll limbs.

Without taking the time to clean out the car, we got in and I floored the vehicle in reverse, blasting through the cribs, strollers, and playpens. Once I had the room, I turned the car around and we sped out of there like our lives depended on it. Before long, the fog had cleared up and the road was unobstructed. We had only been in “Babyland” for about 15 minutes, but the experience took much more than 15 minutes away from our lifespans. After stopping and getting all of the doll paraphernalia out of the car, we drove through the night back to the safety of our own home.

I now know why no one wanted to tell us about Babyland. It’s because what happens there can’t be rightfully explained. And it’s for that same reason I’m not going to give any definitive information on its location. Anyone who ever asks me, be it the r/nosleep community or otherwise, will never get any information regarding its whereabouts. I will never send anyone there, and I most certainly will never go back there myself.

There’s something very, very wrong about the place called “Babyland”.

[miraculousstorytelling]

A Ladybug Original

Written for @breeeliss​ as part of the @miraculousexchange​ Spring Exchange! Now that the authors have been revealed, I’ll go ahead and post this to my tumblr.

AO3 Link

“You want me to what?”

“You heard me,” Chloe snapped, tapping her foot impatiently as she stared Marinette down. “It’s in two months. That’s plenty of time.”

Marinette frowned, almost glaring back. “You want me to make a dress for you?”

“Yes,” Chloe answered as though the request was perfectly normal.

“Is this a joke?”

Chloe huffed and looked away. “No. Daddykins already offered to pay you.”

“Wait.” Marinette held up a hand. “Why would you ask me to design your dress?”

Chloe finally looked back at Marinette and sighed impatiently. “Well, you won that contest with Mr. Agreste, didn’t you? That must mean you’re good.”

“But, you could hire a professional. I don’t get it.” Marinette folded her arms over her chest. “Why come to me?”

“You’re my classmate. It’s convenient.”

“I don’t buy it,” Marinette answered, shaking her head.

“Plus, you’re an amateur, so Daddykins won’t have to pay you as much,” Chloe replied with a too-casual wave of her hand.

“You expect me to believe you care about saving money?” Marinette scoffed. “I heard you refused a picture frame because it was the wrong kind of gold.”

“I…” Chloe rolled her eyes and spat out the words like they were poison. “Fine. I happen to like some of your designs. Are you happy now?”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “You do?” It was certainly news to her, given how often Chloe teased her about her taste in clothes. “Since when?”

“Look, are you going to design something or not?”

Marinette paused to consider her answer. Chloe was watching her, all tension and discomfort as she waited for Marinette to decide. Part of her was tempted to smile, say no, and walk away, leaving Chloe hurt and humiliated for a change. After years of being the one Chloe openly mocked at every opportunity, this could very well be her chance for revenge.

On the other hand, she had a chance to change everything by saying yes. After all, being on good terms, or at least not enemies, with Chloe would make her life much more pleasant. Marinette had been her target for years, so being on Chloe’s good side would mean eliminating one of the biggest enemies in her life, Hawkmoth notwithstanding. Besides, at the very least, knowing Chloe was wearing her design to a party honoring Ladybug and Chat Noir might even be a better kind of payback.

Marinette finally nodded. “Yes.”

“You will?” Chloe straightened, eyes wide in surprise. Clearly, she’d expected Marinette to refuse.

“But,” Marinette continued with the barest hint of a smirk, “If I do, you have to pay for the cost of materials and if anyone asks, you have to tell them the truth about who designed it.” Because if Chloe made the experience terrible, Marinette wouldn’t hesitate to use her position as Ladybug to ask her in front of everyone, press included.

“Ugh. Fine,” Chloe grumbled half-heartedly.

“And you’ll need to come to my house so I can measure you.” Marinette looked her over for a moment, mentally noting her proportions. “Do you have any ideas about how you want it to look?”

Chloe finally smiled. “Just a few.”

As it turned out, Chloe was just as demanding as Marinette might have expected. She’d obviously thought through every inch of her dream dress, and she quickly rattled off a list of requirements long enough to make Marinette’s head spin.

Good thing Marinette loved a challenge.

On her way home, Marinette wandered into one of her favorite fabric shops, hoping for inspiration. In the middle of cooing over the new arrivals, she caught sight of a set of buttons, styled perfectly to match Ladybug’s earrings. As soon as she picked them up, her design clicked into place. She bought the buttons and a few yards of fabric and ran straight home.

“Hey, Mom! Gotta go work on a design for Chloe! Bye!”

Her mother watched as Marinette dashed past her. “What? Marinette!”

Marinette skidded to a stop and turned to face her, eyes bright with excitement. “Chloe asked me to design a dress for the party the mayor is hosting for Ladybug and Chat Noir, and I have the perfect idea!”

“Wait, you said yes to this?” Sabine frowned. “This is the girl that made your life miserable for years.”

“I know, but…” Marinette shrugged, some of her energy fading at the look in her mother’s eyes. “I thought maybe she’d be nicer to me and Alya if I did. Besides, you know Chloe. If she likes it, she’ll show it off to everyone. And if I’m going to be a designer, I might have to work with clients I don’t like in the future, too.”

“Okay, I see your point.” Sabine gently patted her shoulder. “I’m proud of you for doing it, but…” She chuckled and resumed stocking pastries in the bakery’s displays. “I don’t like it, and I don’t think Alya will either.”

“You’re doing what?!” Alya shouted over the phone. “Marinette, this is a terrible idea!”

Marinette sighed. “I know, I know…” She looked over one of several sketches she’d made while brainstorming the perfect design. “But, maybe this will change things, you know? Wouldn’t it be nice to not have Chloe making fun of us all the time?”

“Okay, yeah, but at what cost? You’re going to be working for Chloe!”

“I’m going to be working with Chloe,” Marinette corrected. “Not for.”

“She’s paying you to design a dress.” Alya shot back. “You’re working for her.”

Marinette groaned. “Look, I know how it sounds, but-”

Alya cut her off, “And she’s a monster.”

“Alya, I-”

Alya’s voice raised as she continued, “And this could just be some kind of trick! If she hurts you, I swear-”

Marinette grimaced. “Look, it might be. I just think it’s worth the risk.”

“Well…” Alya deflated somewhat. “You know I’m gonna support you, no matter what.”

“I know.” Marinette smiled, relieved that Alya was on her side, despite her best friend’s justifiable reservations. “Thank you.”

“And I will happily fight her for you.”

Marinette grinned. “Of course. And I’d do the same for you.”

“I know. Because you’re a good person. Unlike,” Alya added in an exaggerated, haughty tone, “One Miss Chloe Bourgeois.”

Marinette snickered. “Alya, you’re the best friend I could ever ask for.”

Alya scoffed. “Of course I am.” She lowered her voice as she continued, “And, you know, if you stitch ‘Chloe is the absolute worst’ or ‘Alya and Marinette are the best’ somewhere in the dress, I won’t say a word.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Marinette grinned.

“Call me if you need me.” Alya sighed. “Or just to save me from math.”

Marinette nodded. “Anytime.” She hung up the phone and flipped to a fresh page in her sketchbook, still brainstorming.

“I think it’s great that you’re designing Chloe’s dress,” Tikki said from beside her. “I’m proud of you, Marinette.”

Marinette glanced over at her. “Thanks, Tikki.” She flipped to one of her previous designs and showed it to Tikki. “What do you think about this one? I like the shape, but I think maybe it needs a little something more if Chloe’s going to like it.”

Tikki examined it. “Well, I think it looks lovely.”

Marinette chuckled. “You think all of my designs are lovely.”

“Because they are!” Tikki grinned. “You’re very talented!”

“You’re the best.” Marinette sent her a small smile. “What would I do without you?”

The next day, Marinette met Chloe outside of school. “I have some ideas if you want to take a look.”

Chloe raised a brow. “Already?”

“I was inspired.” Marinette shrugged and pulled out her sketchbook. “I was thinking something ladybug-themed, since I know how much you love Ladybug.”

“Well, obviously,” Chloe answered, rolling her eyes.

“So, this was my first idea.” Marinette showed one sketch to Chloe. “And I was thinking a keyhole in the back with this adorable button I found that looks exactly like Ladybug’s earrings.”

Chloe scrutinized the page for a moment. Marinette suspected she was looking for some kind of flaw to critique. “I don’t like the neckline. It’s all wrong.”

“Okay, well, what about this one instead?” Marinette flipped the page. “I thought a sweetheart neckline would be more your style, but-”

“And I hate the sleeves,” Chloe added, folding her arms over her chest.

Marinette grimaced. “Okay, well, I can change that. What about the design as a whole?”

“I hate it.”

Marinette sent her a sharp look. “Fine. I had some other ideas. What about this one?”

“Boring.”

“You didn’t even look at it!”

Chloe scoffed. “Yes, I did.” She wrinkled her nose. “Who uses tulle these days?”

“Fine! I’ll get rid of the tulle! You said you wanted a wide skirt, so-”

“Is that all you have?”

Marinette grumbled and turned the page to show the last design. “One more.”

Chloe eyed it for a moment. “It’s not...awful.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Try taking off those ugly sleeves.” She considered a moment. “And that keyhole back would be okay with this, I guess.”

Marinette pulled out her pencil and wrote down Chloe’s suggestions. “I can work with that. What about the colors?”

“I can live with it,” Chloe conceded.

“And the shape?” Marinette asked, hoping for a reaction stronger than reluctantly neutral.

“It’s okay,” Chloe answered with a wave of her hand.

“I’ll...come up with some more sketches, then. Are you free after school? We can decide on something, and I can measure you.”

Chloe tapped the screen of her phone a few times, reluctantly answering, “I guess could move some things around and make it work.”

“Don’t strain yourself or anything,” Marinette muttered under her breath.

“What?” Chloe asked, eyes narrowed.

“See you after school.” Marinette closed her sketchbook with a sharp snap and ran off to meet Alya.

“You okay?” Alya asked, immediately sending Chloe a glare. “You look upset. What did she do?”

“Nothing. I just forgot how picky she was,” Marinette answered wearily, resting her forehead on Alya’s shoulder.

“Picky?” Alya shouted. “You’re bending over backwards for that stuck-up brat, and she’s being picky?”

Marinette sighed. “Let’s just go to class.”

After spending her lunch break clearing her room of Adrien’s pictures then sketching design after design, Marinette finally managed to decide on the perfect one, or at least as close to Chloe’s definition of perfect as Marinette could get. Because, if Marinette was going to design a dress for Chloe Bourgeois, she was going to make sure Chloe fell in love with it.

Despite her confidence, Marinette could feel her nerves growing with each step she took as she led Chloe to her home after school.

“And can you believe we have so much reading tonight?” Chloe ranted as she tapped a message into her phone while she walked. “I had plans, and now Sabrina is sick, so she can’t do it for me.”

Marinette tuned her out, mentally refining the dress in her mind. Naturally, she’d need to find a prominent place to put her name somewhere in the stitching just in case Chloe tried to credit it to someone else. Maybe around the keyhole in the back.

“And that history test tomorrow? Please…” Chloe followed her through the side entrance to Marinette’s home and up the stairs. “What does it matter if I know the name of some dumb king.”

Marinette unlocked the front door, deliberately ignoring Chloe at this point. “Do you want any snacks or anything to drink?”

Chloe arched a brow, almost offended by the offer. “No. I’ll eat after we’re done.”

Marinette sighed and led Chloe up to her room, ignoring how Chloe scrutinized their main living area. “Well, I’ll try not to keep you, then.” She shoved open the trapdoor and set down her purse. “Let me show you the design first, and you can tell me what’s wrong with it while I measure you.”

Chloe sighed and tucked her phone in her purse. “Fine.”

Still hopeful that maybe she’d manage to impress her for a change, Marinette flipped open her sketchbook and presented it to Chloe.

Chloe stared, lips parted in surprise. She grabbed the sketchbook and stared, eyes bright as she took in every detail and skimmed the notes Marinette made all over the page.

Marinette watched carefully, heart in her throat. “What do you think?”

Chloe looked up at her and cleared her throat. “It’ll work, I guess.”

Marinette deflated. “Really?”

“I mean, we don’t have all afternoon, so-”

“No, you were speechless for a minute.” Marinette frowned. “And I’m not going to settle for ‘it’s okay’ or ‘it’ll work’. Either you love it or you don’t.”

Chloe pursed her lips and examined it again. “I…” She handed the sketchbook back to Marinette and looked away. “I can’t see a way to make it better.”

“Say you love it.” Marinette didn’t budge, willing to call Chloe’s bluff. “Or I’m starting over.”

“No!” Chloe turned to face her. “Don’t. I like it.” She grimaced, looking as though the confession pained her. “Actually, I love it. It’s perfect.”

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Marinette took the book from Chloe, smirking as she set it aside.

Chloe scowled. “Can I go now?”

“No, I need to measure you. Take off your cardigan.”

Chloe grimaced and slid off her yellow cardigan, gently setting it on Marinette’s chaise beside her purse. “I could have sent you my measurements, you know.”

“Yes, but I like measuring myself.” Marinette pulled out her measuring tape. “Now, keep still.”

Chloe nodded and held her arms still beside her body, leaving enough room for Marinette to reach through. “You think you can measure better than a professional?”

“I didn’t say that.” Marinette started off with a simple shoulder measurement, quickly jotting it down on the back of her design for Chloe. “I just feel like it’s easier to visualize it when I’m the one who measured it.”

“Whatever.”

Marinette measured the back of Chloe’s neck and a few different sleeve lengths, just in case she had to make any changes. “Okay, I’m measuring your bust now.”

“Fine,” Chloe answered, sounding bored.

“Sorry, am I not entertaining enough?” Marinette grumbled as she reached around to carefully position the measuring tape around Chloe’s chest.

“Sabrina said you had a bunch of pictures of Adrien, but there’s just some designs and pictures of you and Alya.”

Marinette stiffened, but she finished the measurement anyway and jotted it down. “Waist next.”

“Did you take the posters down?” Chloe asked, peeking behind her.

“Don’t move.” Marinette repositioned Chloe’s shoulders. “And yes.” She wrapped the tape around Chloe’s waist, adjusting it until she reached the narrowest point before glancing at the number and writing it down.

“Why?”

“Because you were coming over. Hips next.” She lowered the measuring tape to Chloe’s hips, adjusting it to the widest point and noting the results.

“I’m Adrien’s friend. You think I don’t have pictures of him all over my room, too?”

Marinette rolled her eyes and moved in front of Chloe. “It’s different. I didn’t want you-”

Both girls froze when a loud crash sounded from outside. Marinette ran to the window, and she groaned.

“It looks like an akuma.” She turned to look at Chloe. “Okay, you should stay with my parents. I need to go...look for Alya.”

“What?” Chloe scowled. “But, we’re not done yet!”

“Fine, stay here, then, but I have to go!” Marinette snatched up her purse, quickly making up the first lie she could. “We were meeting up, and I think she could be in danger if she’s outside right now.”

“You can’t just-”

Marinette slammed the trapdoor shut behind her as she raced downstairs. Thankfully, the stairwell was clear, which meant she could transform quickly and get to the akuma before it could do more damage. “Okay, Tikki, spots-”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

“On?”

Chloe, who was much quicker and quieter than Marinette had obviously given her credit for, ran out into the open area just as Marinette began to transform. Everything slowed down as Marinette met Chloe’s wide blue eyes and a bright pink flash lit up their surroundings.

Ladybug watched as Chloe stared, opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then finally screamed.

“Marine-”

Ladybug quickly covered her mouth. “Chloe, you can’t shout my name, okay?”

Chloe nodded, still utterly shocked.

“So, if I take my hand away, you’re going to be quiet?”

She nodded again.

Ladybug finally stepped away. “I have to go take care of this akuma, but when I get back we can talk.” She grimaced. “You should probably wait in my room. You cannot tell my parents about this.”

“But, you’re-”

Ladybug pinned her in place with a single look. “Stay here.”

Chloe nodded slowly and watched as Ladybug ran out to take down what had to be the most inconveniently-timed akuma she had ever faced.

Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated the akuma in record time, and Ladybug raced back to her room. Chloe waited for her on her chaise, and she perked up when Ladybug dropped down from her skylight.

“Marinette!”

Marinette grimaced and released her transformation before meeting Chloe on the main level of her room. “Okay, first things first, I-”

Chloe quickly interrupted her, “Look, I’ve thought about this, and now that I know you’re Ladybug, obviously things have to change.” Chloe grinned. “Since Ladybug and I are best friends, that means we are, too. And it’s a little weird, but-”

“Stop.” Marinette held up a hand and frowned. “We’re not best friends, Chloe.”

Chloe frowned, hurt filling her eyes. “But-”

“You’ve been awful to me for years now.” Marinette folded her arms over her chest and avoided Chloe’s stare. “I know you like Ladybug, but if that’s the only reason you want to be friends, this isn’t going to work."

Chloe took a step back, her brows knitted in confusion. “But, you agreed to design this dress.”

“Yes. I did that so maybe you’d stop treating me and Alya so horribly.” Marinette scooped up her tape measure. “You insult us and make fun of us all the time, and you got Alya in a lot of trouble over a dumb picture.”

“It was an invasion of my privacy!” Chloe protested.

Marinette grabbed Chloe’s shoulders and held her still. “You used your father’s position to punish her way more than she should have been.” She quickly measured from the juncture of Chloe’s shoulder to her waist, then from her shoulder to her bust line and noted both measurements. “You’re a bully.”

“I was just-”

“And I’m happy to take pictures with you as Ladybug and save you, because you’re a human being who should be able to trust in a hero. Plus, I sort of hope you’ll grow up and stop treating people like they’re less important than you…” Marinette measured down to just below Chloe’s knees. “But, all of that doesn’t mean we’re suddenly best friends because you know my identity.”

Chloe watched her, eyes narrowed. “Ladybug is my hero.”

“Yeah,” Marinette wrote down the last of Chloe’s measurements. “And you’ve spent the past several years tearing down your hero’s self-esteem and making her think she isn’t even good enough to be Ladybug.”

“What?”

“So, maybe you should think about that while you catch up on reading for French.” Marinette glanced over at Chloe, her heart still racing from the confrontation. “If you really care for Ladybug, you’ll keep my identity secret. From everyone.”

Chloe folded her arms over her chest. “Of course I will. Look, I love Ladybug. She’s incredible and selfless, and I’m not stupid. I know you didn’t always want to take those pictures, but I thought we were friends.”

Marinette inhaled sharply and set the tape measure aside. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I wanted to be like you.”

Marinette grimaced. “If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, you can stop. I’m not going to.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “I’m not saying we’re not friends because I’m angry. I’m hurt, and I don’t trust you not to hurt me again.”

“But, I love Ladybug,” Chloe almost shouted back. “Why would I hurt you?”

“I don’t know!” Marinette snapped. “Why did you hurt Marinette?”

“Because…” Chloe almost shrank in on herself. “I don’t know.”

Marinette watched her quietly, considering her options and hoping she wasn’t making a mistake. Chloe had been her tormenter for so long, Marinette had really only ever hoped for a ceasefire. Friendship seems like an impossible goal for them, and Marinette had always rejected the idea every time her mind conjured up the image. “It doesn’t really matter why.” She shook her head, her voice soft. “I’m not trying to punish you. I just…” Marinette finally sat on her chaise, shoulders sagging as she looked down. “You made my life miserable. I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen.”

Chloe was silent, staring at Tikki who had watched the entire exchange from Marinette’s chair. Finally, she murmured, “Ladybug is my hero. I idolized her. I think…” She bit her lip. “I don’t think I know how to be a nice person.”

Marinette looked over at her. “You know, it’s easy for people to be selfish. Being a nice person takes work.”

“So,” Chloe sat beside her, slowly releasing a breath. “Can you teach me?”

Marinette finally managed a small smile. “Yeah, I guess that would be a little miraculous, wouldn’t it?”

“So, she liked the dress?” Alya asked, excitement brightening her voice over the phone.

“She loved it,” Marinette answered. “Said it was perfect.”

“Look at you, Miss Fancy Designer. You even managed to impress the biggest snob to walk the face of the Earth.” She chuckled. “You have to tell Nino tomorrow. He didn’t believe me when I told him you were designing her dress.”

“Alya, you told him?”

“Oh, he can keep a secret!”

Marinette hummed in consideration. “I mean, she promised she’d tell anyone who asked, so I guess it’s not really a secret.”

“Good, cause I’m thinking of making T-shirts.”

Marinette grinned. “Oh, great. Make them Ladybug themed to go with the dress.”

“Oh, of course.” Alya chuckled.

“And… I think maybe she’s open to the idea of trying to be friendlier with everyone.”

“Really?” Alya’s bed creaked as she rolled onto her stomach. “Chloe? Friendly?”

Marinette shrugged. “She said she’s willing to try, so… Maybe we can help her out.”

“Help Chloe out?” Alya lowered her voice as she continued, “She didn’t brainwash you, did she?”

“No,” Marinette laughed. “Look, think about how much better school would be if Chloe was nice.”

“Better school would mean no homework or tests,” Alya corrected. “Chloe being nice would make me think we were in a parallel dimension.”

“You know what I mean.”

Alya sighed dramatically. “Fine. Okay. I’ll try to help her be a decent person instead of a human cesspool.”

Marinette snorted. “Maybe start by not calling her a human cesspool.”

“Only for you, girl.”

The next day, Chloe went to her seat without a snide comment for Marinette or Alya and instead pulled out her phone until Ms. Bustier walked in the classroom.

Chloe walked over to her and spoke softly enough that most of the class missed what she said, but based on the shocked expression on their teacher’s face, it was obviously unexpected. Everyone quickly fell quiet to try and catch a snippet of the conversation.

Nino, by far the closest, turned to Adrien. “Did she just ask to get a copy of the homework for Sabrina?”

Adrien nodded slowly, and Marinette smiled down at Chloe, proud of her first steps.

Chloe collected the assignment and sent the rest of the class a sharp glare. She returned to her seat with a toss of her ponytail.

Well, Marinette leaned back in her seat and sighed, at least it was one step in the right direction.

As the week passed, Chloe paid more attention to Sabrina, insisting on doing her own homework, or at least collaborating. She complained about it to Marinette through a series of texts populated by too many emojis, but Marinette encouraged her that she was doing a great job so far.

“This is hard,” Chloe sent back, followed by two crying faces.

Marinette chuckled and replied, “If it helps, I’m proud of you!”

Chloe took a moment to respond, but when she did, her text had a smiling face and a ladybug beside it. “It helps.”

The next week, Chloe invited Adrien to join her for an afternoon together, encouraging him to decide what they should do. In the end, they stayed in and finally watched a series he’d always sworn she’d like.

“I am watching anime thanks to you,” Chloe texted Marinette as the theme song played.

“All part of being a nicer person,” Marinette answered, adding in a smiling emoji of her own. “Which anime?”

“I don’t know, something about a sailor? All I know is there’s a talking cat and this girl is crying a lot.”

Marinette laughed. “Yeah, I think you might like Sailor Moon, actually.”

Four hours later, Chloe finally texted her back. “Marinette, can you make me a Sailor Moon costume?” Seconds later, she added. “Adrien wants one, too.”

The third week saw Chloe actually take a flyer from Nino when he handed them out to the class. “Sure, I’ll go. You’re DJing, right?”

Nino stared at her as though she’d suddenly grown another head. “Uhh… Yeah.”

“Well, I’ll be there, then.”

Adrien looked positively thrilled. “Hey, I’m glad you’re joining us, Chlo.”

Chloe glanced over. “Yeah, I hear he’s good at it.”

Nino almost tripped when he heard Chloe speak, but Marinette sent Chloe a smile in response. “That’s really nice of you to say that, Chloe.”

Chloe didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the morning.

The next day, she was asking Nino for music recommendations.

The next week, Chloe was chatting with Mylene, looking over her pins and suggesting a few shops that might carry some she didn’t already have.

Ivan watched them carefully, still entirely unforgiving of Chloe after both his and Mylene’s akumatizations.

Chloe looked over at him and waved. “Your girlfriend’s sweet, you know.”

Luckily, Chloe’s knack for reading people had only blossomed now that she was employing it towards treating people well. If anything could earn his trust, it was flattery towards Mylene. Ivan almost melted as he looked over at Mylene and nodded slowly. “She’s the best.”

Chloe glanced back at Mylene. “You should come shopping with me and Sabrina sometime.”

Sabrina grinned from beside her. “Yeah, Chloe knows all the best places to find everything.”

“I’d like that,” Mylene answered, still a bit cautious of Chloe, but like the rest of the class, she was starting to warm up to her.

By the end of the week, Marinette had made enough progress on Chloe’s dress that she was ready to invite her back for the next step.

“Hey, Chloe,” Marinette stopped by Chloe’s desk on the way out the door. “I have the dress ready for your first fitting when you’re ready to stop by.”

Chloe smiled. “I’m free tomorrow after lunch.”

“That works for me.” Marinette grinned. “I’ll see you then.”

“And, umm…” Chloe hesitantly continued. “As thanks, maybe I could buy you dinner?”

Marinette stopped and looked at her, brows raised. “Really?”

“Well, I thought we could go to L’Abeille. It’s one of Daddykins’ favorites.”

“What?” Marinette’s eyes widened. “But, that’s-”

“Consider it a thank you,” Chloe stood and collected her things. “For a lot of things.”

Marinette considered her answer for a brief moment. After all, things were better with Chloe, but she was still wary. Still, Chloe had tried, really tried, and Marinette was proud of her for doing so. “Okay, I’d love for you to buy me dinner, then.”

Alya passed her at just that moment and shot her a concerned look. Despite the fact that she was opening up to the idea of trusting Chloe after seeing how much she supported Nino and Adrien, Alya was clearly still on the skeptical side.

“Great!” Chloe flashed her a grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Marinette nodded and hurried to catch up to Alya.

“Did Chloe just say she’s buying you dinner?” Alya asked.

Marinette nodded. “Yep.”

“Where’s she taking you?”

“L’Abeille.”

“L’Abeille?” Alya stopped and turned to look at her. “Marinette.”

Marinette paused and raised a brow. “Yes?”

“You’re going on a date with Chloe,” Alya deadpanned.

“What?” Marinette chuckled. “No. It’s just a thank-you dinner.”

Alya scoffed. “Girl, L’Abeille is not a thank-you restaurant. It’s a date restaurant.”

“Trust me, I think I’d know if this was a date, Alya.”

Chloe arrived at the Dupain-Cheng bakery twenty minutes after Marinette texted her that they’d finished lunch. Chloe greeted Sabine as she walked in, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Cheng.”

Sabine sent her a small smile. “Hello, Chloe. Marinette’s upstairs if you want to head on up.”

“Thanks.” She waved and hurried up the stairs.

Marinette met her in the main living room. “Hey, right on time. Dad and I just finished playing a game.”

Tom walked past them and patted Marinette on the shoulder. “You’ll have to teach me that move later on.”

Marinette shook her head. “Not a chance. If I do, you’ll beat me for a change.”

Tom sighed and turned to Chloe. “I’ve raised a monster.”

Chloe chuckled despite herself, watching as he left to go down to the bakery.

Marinette laughed and led Chloe upstairs. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just upset I keep winning at the new Ultimate Mecha Strike.”

“Adrien has that game.” Chloe followed her. “He keeps telling me you can teach me how to beat him.”

Marinette smirked. “Maybe. I do know a few tricks.” She moved her dress form to the middle of her room, displaying Chloe’s dress. “So, what do you think?”

Chloe gasped. “It’s gorgeous!”

Marinette beamed. “Well, let’s see how it looks on you, then.”

Chloe scoffed. “I make everything look good. Obviously, it’s only going to look even better on me.”

Marinette rolled her eyes fondly. “Okay. Just be careful. It’s still a work in progress.” She gently removed the dress from the form as she continued, “You’ll need to take off your clothes.”

Chloe nodded, slowly slipping off the shirt and skirt she’d worn over. “I know. I figured.”

Marinette looked away and held out the dress, now turned inside out. “Don’t worry. I won’t look.”

“I don’t mind if you do,” Chloe answered softly.

“Oh. Okay.” Marinette glanced back. “I’ll help you into it, then.”

Despite expecting it, Marinette was still caught offguard by the sight of Chloe in a pair of surprisingly flattering and lacy black underwear. Her bra was red with black spots, trimmed with lace, and cut low enough to show off the curve of her breasts. Chloe didn’t look at Marinette as they worked together to get her into the dress. Marinette could feel her mouth going dry, and her pulse spiked as she became painfully aware of every part of Chloe’s body her fingertips touched along the way.

“So, a Ladybug bra,” Marinette murmured, hoping to ease some of the sudden tension.

Chloe nodded, a light pink coloring her cheeks. “It’s custom-made. My favorite.”

“I’m flattered.”

Chloe glanced over at her. “Really?”

“Well, I mean…” Marinette blushed. “It looks good on you.”

“Of course. I told you I make everything look good.”

Marinette moved behind her to fasten the Ladybug button in the back. “Okay. I just need you to hold still for a few minutes.” She moved around and carefully pinned the dress where she could see she needed to make adjustments. “I think…” She circled Chloe one more time. “I’m done.”

Chloe relaxed. “Great.”

“Now, let me help you get this dress off.” Marinette did her best to stay professional, avoiding any wayward glances. Something about Chloe in spots was clearly dangerous to Marinette’s heart. She eased the dress over Chloe’s hips and froze when she noticed a detail that had escaped her earlier. A single red ladybug had been embroidered on the stretch of fabric just over Chloe’s left hip. Marinette’s breath caught in her throat, and she didn’t release it until the dress was off Chloe. “Okay, you can get dressed again.”

Marinette busied herself with positioning the dress properly on the dress form and noting where she needed to resew as she waited for the rustle of fabric to stop behind her.

“That was faster than I expected,” Chloe commented. “We have a little time before dinner. Did you want to do something together?”

Marinette shrugged, still recovering from her own reaction to Chloe. “I was just going to work on some adjustments.”

“Okay. I could stay with you while you work,” Chloe suggested.

“That’s probably going to be pretty boring for you.”

“I don’t mind.”

Marinette frowned, her hopes of talking to Tikki dashed now that it was clear Chloe wasn’t leaving. “Well, you and Tikki could spend some time together. She usually doesn’t have much to do while I’m sewing anyway.”

“Oh, I’d love that!” Chloe brightened.

Tikki flew over from her spot on Marinette’s desk. “Hi, Chloe!”

While they chatted behind her, Marinette carried the dress to her sewing machine, already lost in thought. She wished she could call Alya or talk to Tikki herself. Whenever she experienced a dilemma like this, talking it out was always much easier.

She worked as she reflected on everything that had just happened. Her finger still tingled where they’d touched Chloe’s bare skin, which was objectively unusual. It certainly wasn’t the first time she’d seen a girl in her underwear before. Except, Marinette had never felt more than admiration for the design itself in those moments when she’d seen pictures or watched videos. Even when her friends had modeled their new purchases for each other, she’d never reacted like this. Why would Chloe of all people cause such a strong and baffling sensation just because she was wearing ladybugs all over her? Marinette frowned and paused to readjust her angle.

Something was strange. Ever since the night Chloe had gone out to the smallest, most uncomfortably packed club in all of Paris to support Nino, Marinette had started to believe in her. She’d begun looking forward to Chloe’s strange and sometimes whiny texts. Even the emojis were growing on her. Something had changed between them; something more than Chloe knowing and successfully keeping her secret.

Marinette had an inkling of what it meant. She’d seen enough romantic movies to see the signs, but the idea was just too much for her to accept. She couldn’t even put it into words. She couldn’t feel that way about Chloe. Could she?

Her skin hummed with excess energy, begging her to pace or rant or fight or anything besides just sit there and sew. This was just too much. How was she supposed to accept that her feelings towards Chloe had changed so drastically over just one month. Sure, she was trying to be kind, and sure she was a much more enjoyable person to talk to now, but that didn’t change their history. It couldn’t.

“Marinette?” Tikki’s soft voice broke her concentration and pulled her back to the present.

Marinette paused her sewing. “Yes?”

“There’s an akuma.”

Marinette finished the sleeve she’d been adjusting. “Okay.” She carefully put the dress back on the form and glanced over at Chloe. “I’ll be back soon.”

Chloe nodded. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Marinette smiled and transformed before leaping out her window to go save Paris.

Luckily, Ladybug and Chat Noir managed to defeat the villain well before Marinette’s planned dinner with Chloe. Ladybug even had time to chat with her partner before hurrying back to her room and dropping onto her bed.

“Sorry to run out on you, Chloe.” She released her transformation and climbed down from her bed. “You won’t believe this akuma.”

Chloe held up her phone, streaming a video from the Ladyblog. “Static electricity? Really?”

Marinette laughed. “I said the same thing, trust me.” She raised a brow at the garment bag now draped on the chaise. “What’s that?”

“Well, I’m not wearing this to L’Abeille.” Chloe gestured down to her casual outfit. “I had my driver bring it over. I figured I could get ready here.”

“Oh, sure.” Marinette shrugged, shoving the image of Chloe’s ladybug bra out of her mind. “That sounds good. It’s about time for me to be getting ready anyway.”

Chloe nodded. “I’ll get changed, then.”

Marinette nodded and rushed to her closet. She made a show of looking for a dress, hoping to avoid a repeat performance of the odd feelings that seemed to accompany seeing more of Chloe’s skin than she was accustomed to in class. Marinette quickly pulled out a nice pink dress she’d made herself a few months ago, one of the only things she owned that she could comfortably wear to L’Abeille. She quickly tugged off her clothes to change, mentally busying herself with deciding on accessories and makeup while she waited for Chloe to finish dressing.

“Did you make that?” Chloe asked from behind her.

Marinette turned to look at her, smoothing her palms over her dress as she made sure everything was in place. “Yeah, I-” She paused, quickly examining the shimmering red dress that Chloe had chosen for their dinner together. “Wow, that looks great.” She raised a brow. “Why didn’t you just wear that to the party?”

“I’ve worn this before.” Chloe scoffed. “I can’t just wear any old dress to a party for Ladybug.”

Marinette laughed. “Right, of course. How awful.”

“Hey, I’m doing this out of respect for you, you know,” Chloe sat on the chaise and dug out a small bag of makeup. “I’d appreciate a little less mockery.”

Marinette shook her head and dug out her own makeup stash. “Hope you’re okay sharing a mirror.”

“I brought my own.” Sure enough, Chloe pulled out mirror with battery-operated lights around the edge and set it up on Marinette’s desk.

Marinette settled in front of her mirror. “I’m glad you thought ahead, then.”

“One of my many talents.”

Marinette chuckled and experimented with a few hair styles. “What do you think? Up or down?”

“You should try curling it,” Chloe suggested, plugging in a straightener she’d packed with her dress. “Do you have a curling iron?”

“Ummm… I think.” Marinette sifted through her basket of various makeup and hair products. “Oh, here it is.”

Chloe glanced back and snorted. “Are you serious? That thing’s ancient. Does it even work?”

“Yes, it works. Is being rude to appliances another one of your many talents?” Marinette teased as she reached over to plug it in.

“Hey, I’ve been way nicer lately,” Chloe shot back.

Marinette looked back at her. “Yeah, you have been.” She smiled. “Honestly, I’m really proud of you.”

Chloe relaxed a bit and turned back to her mirror. “Well, I guess you’ve been a good influence on me.”

Marinette hummed in agreement as she brushed out her hair while the curling iron warmed up. “I think you should give yourself more credit. All I did was encourage you.”

“Yeah…” Chloe answered softly. “But it meant a lot.”

Marinette smiled, blushing a bit as she set aside her brush. “I’m glad.”

For the next few minutes, the room was filled with the soft sounds of Chloe picking up makeup brushes and palettes, accompanied by the sounds of Marinette brushing, then curling her hair before she dove into her own makeup supply.

“We should probably be leaving soon,” Marinette murmured as she added a touch of lipgloss and stepped into her heels. “Are you almost ready?”

Chloe nodded. “Just about.”

“Okay.” Marinette turned to look at her. “Well, I’m done.”

Chloe glanced back at her, mascara still in hand. Her eyes widened when she saw Marinette, and she inhaled sharply. Marinette stared right back, stunned to see Chloe with her hair down in soft, loose waves. “You look nice,” Chloe finally managed.

“So do you.” Marinette grinned, coaxing her heartbeat into a more manageable rhythm. “Guess dressing up is another talent.”

“Well, I think we both have that one.” Chloe turned back to the mirror to finish the last of her makeup. “My driver should be here soon.”

Moments later, they were on their way, stopping briefly for Marinette’s parents to take a few pictures.

“Bye, girls! Have fun!” Sabine waved as they hurried into Chloe’s limo.

Marinette waved back before closing the door behind them. “Sorry for all the pictures. Mom really loves this dress.”

Chloe waved a hand. “Don’t apologize. We both look gorgeous.”

Marinette grinned. “Yeah, red really is your color.”

“Yours, too,” Chloe answered with a small smile.

“Hmmm…” Marinette glanced down at her dress. “Maybe, but it isn’t my favorite.”

“Well, lucky for you, pink looks good on you, too.”

They arrived at L’Abeille moments later, and Marinette marvelled at the beautiful exterior. Chloe slipped her arm in Marinette’s. “Come on. The inside’s even better.”

Marinette stared as she walked through the doors, following as Chloe led her through the lobby.

“We have a reservation under Bourgeois.” Marinette barely registered that Chloe was speaking to someone as she peeked into the dining area. Chandeliers hung throughout the room over intricately laid tables, populated by well-dressed people enjoying their meals. Chloe gently urged her forward as they were led to a table near a window.

Marinette sat, still looking around and taking all of it in. “This place is amazing.”

Chloe chuckled and sat across from her. “Wait until you taste the food.”

Marinette grinned and picked up a menu. “Wow…” She scanned the options. “It all sounds incredible. But…” She frowned. “These prices…”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Really, Marinette, it’s my treat. Remember?”

Marinette squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. “Yes, but-”

“You’ve spent hours on my dress. Trust me, you’ve earned it.”

“Well, okay, you have a point there.” She glanced back down at the menu. “We could have gone somewhere less fancy, though, you know.”

“Well, if you want to invite me to dinner next time, you’re welcome to pick where we go,” Chloe answered calmly as she considered what to order.

“So, there’s going to be a next time?” Marinette asked, hoping her voice sounded steadier than it felt. Because, while she’d been reluctant to believe it, Marinette was beginning to suspect that maybe Alya really had been right about this being a date. Even more surprising, maybe Marinette didn’t mind as much as she might have expected.

“Well…” Chloe didn’t look up, but Marinette noticed her cheeks darken. “If you want to.”

“Chloe…” Marinette leaned forward and gently pushed Chloe’s menu down to the table. “What is this exactly?”

Chloe finally looked up at her. “I told you. It’s-”

“I mean it.”

Finally, Chloe closed her menu and set it aside. “I did want to thank you. Really.” She fidgeted with the edge of the menu’s cover. “But, I also wanted to say something, and I figured this was a good place to do it.”

“Okay. What is it?”

Chloe met her eyes, looking more vulnerable than Marinette had ever seen her. “Well, I…” She paused and looked down. “Look, two months ago, I realized I had a crush on Ladybug.” Marinette stared as Chloe took a steadying breath and continued, “And, obviously, I know you aren’t even comfortable being friends yet, so I’m not expecting anything, but I needed to tell you. When I found out you were Ladybug, I didn’t know what to do with those…” She grimaced. “I was confused, I guess. But, the way you treated me lately, I’ve…” Chloe glanced up at Marinette, clearly steeling herself for what she was about to say, “I think I like you, Marinette.”

Marinette inhaled sharply. “You what?”

“You heard me,” Chloe answered, a bit harsher than she meant to, based on the way she flinched after she heard herself. “Sorry. I’m…” She shook her head. “I get that you don’t feel the same. I’m fine with it. I just had to say it.”

“I never said-” Marinette cut herself off and deliberately softened her voice. “I was just surprised.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean…” Marinette sighed. “I’ve been confused, too. I thought it would be harder to forgive you than it turned out be, and I really didn’t ever expect to be friends with you.”

Chloe wilted when Marinette called them friends, but she managed a wry smile. “Well, at least it’s progress.”

“Wait, that’s not-” Marinette groaned. “Okay, wait. Let me… I just need a minute.”

“Why?” Chloe asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“This is why I wanted to talk to Tikki,” Marinette murmured, covering her face with her hands.

“Talk to her about what?” Chloe demanded.

“I think…” Marinette peeked up at her, through her fingers. “If you wanted to say tonight was a date... If you wanted to see where it went…” She took a slow, deep breath and let her hands drop to her lap. “I’d like that, too.”

“Really?” Chloe leaned in, eyes wide.

“Let’s just say that Ladybug bra had me questioning some things,” Marinette admitted, blushing.

Chloe laughed, her posture easing now that the tough part of the evening was over. “I knew it was lucky.”

After a dinner Marinette barely noticed among all the butterflies in her stomach, Chloe dropped Marinette off at home.

“How was dinner?” Tom asked as Marinette walked past them.

“Good.” She glanced over at her parents. “I need to call Alya.”

“Well, you can tell us all about it tomorrow, then.” Sabine smiled.

Marinette nodded and hurried upstairs to kick off her shoes and dial Alya.

Alya answered on the first ring. “So, how was it?”

“Alya, I just went on a date with Chloe Bourgeois.”

“Yeah, I told you.” Alya chuckled and repeated, “So, how was it?”

Marinette smiled fondly as she flopped back onto her chaise. “Pretty amazing, actually.”

Between fittings, dates with Chloe, and her duties as Ladybug, the rest of the month. Before long, it was time for Chloe’s final fitting, more a test to be sure everything looked the way it should than anything else now that the party was tomorrow. Marinette ran her fingertips over the waist of the dress as she waited for Chloe to arrive. It looked even more beautiful than she’d imagined, painstakingly detailed and sewn to fit and flatter Chloe perfectly.

Her trap door opened, and Chloe stepped in, holding a plate full of pastries and croissants. “Your mom sent me up with some snacks.”

Marinette chuckled. “She said she’d set some aside for us today.”

Chloe set the plate down and pulled off her cardigan. “She mentioned honey croissants.”

“Oh, yeah. I told her how much you liked them.” Marinette gently removed the dress from the dress form. “She said it’s popular with the customers, too.”

“I knew it was a good idea.” Chloe set her clothes aside and walked over to Marinette.

Marinette held out the dress for her, chuckling when she saw what Chloe was wearing. “Your lucky bra? Here I thought you’d want to save that for tomorrow.”

“Why?” Chloe asked, raising a brow as she slipped the dress on. “The whole point was for you to see it.”

“I’m touched.” She helped Chloe fasten the button in the back. “Turn around for me?”

Chloe smiled and twirled. “It feels great.”

“It looks even better,” Marinette added with a smile of her own. She circled Chloe, looking for any flaw that she might need to correct before sending the dress home with her. “I think it’s done.”

Chloe walked over to the mirror, examining it from each angle she could manage. “It looks amazing.”

“Well, of course,” Marinette teased as she put the dress form away. “You make everything look amazing, right?”

“No, I mean it.” Chloe beamed at her reflection. “You made me look even more amazing than I normally do. That takes skill.”

Marinette grinned and walked over to look at Chloe over her shoulder. “Well… I told you that you look good in spots.”

Chloe chuckled and turned to face Marinette, gently resting her hands on Marinette’s waist. “I definitely owe you another nice dinner after all the work you put into this.”

Marinette shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything. You already paid me and took me to dinner.”

“Fine, I’ll just figure out another way to spoil you.”

Marinette laughed. “Oh, is that all? You could just kiss me.” She wasn’t sure who was more surprised by the suggestion: Chloe or herself.

“Really?” Chloe raised a brow. “You want me to?”

Marinette met her eyes. “Yeah. If you want to.” Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as Chloe slowly moved closer.

“Of course I want to.”

Then, suddenly, they were a breath apart and Chloe’s thumb was delicately trailing up her side. Marinette shivered and slid her hands behind Chloe’s neck, her fingers shaking with nervous excitement. Chloe raised a hand to cup Marinette’s cheek, and Marinette turned into the touch, anticipation twisting her stomach as she waited for contact.

Finally, Chloe smiled and gently angled Marinette’s jaw as she moved closer. Marinette’s eyes fluttered closed, and she met Chloe in a soft, sweet kiss that made her head spin. Marinette closed the remaining distance between them, drowning in the feeling of Chloe’s curves pressed against hers. She carefully cupped the nape of Chloe’s neck, and Chloe trembled against her, gasping into Marinette’s lips and whispering her name.

Marinette dove in for another kiss, tasting another pleading “Marinette” on Chloe’s tongue as they moved in for a longer, deeper kiss. Chloe’s hand crept to her back, keeping her close while Chloe’s fingers stroked the side of Marinette’s jaw.

They sprang apart at the sound of footsteps, both bright red and wide-eyed when Sabine stepped inside. “I forgot to offer you-” She stopped and glanced between the two girls. “Oh. I…” Her voice trailed off, leaving an awkward silence in its wake.

“Hey, mom. We were just making sure the dress fit.”

Sabine raised a brow. “Well, if you’re done, I made some tea, and you’re welcome to join me.” She grabbed the trapdoor. “It’s right downstairs.”

The second, the door closed behind her, Chloe shook her head. “You know, for someone with a secret identity, you are a terrible liar.”

Marinette blushed and shot her a glare. “Well, what was I supposed to say?”

“Nothing.” Chloe chuckled and pulled off her dress. “At that point, you just keep quiet and hope for the best.”

Marinette turned to look at herself in the mirror and grimaced. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

Chloe snorted. “Next time, we’re not getting interrupted.”

After Chloe changed and Marinette made sure they both looked presentable, she led Chloe downstairs for an awkward cup of tea with her mother.

“Will you be staying for dinner?” Sabine asked, pouring herself a second cup of tea.

“No, my dad’s expecting me,” Chloe answered, stirring more sugar into her drink.

“Well, we’d love to have you over sometime.” Sabine smiled at her.

“I’d like that, too.” Chloe relaxed and took a sip of tea.

Marinette was relieved to see Chloe leave on good terms with her mother, even if Marinette couldn’t quite look Sabine in the eye for the rest of the evening.

The next night, Chloe met Ladybug on the roof of Le Grand Paris. Chloe waved as she landed. “You’re right on time.”

Ladybug chuckled. “Are you my escort for the night?”

“Well, you are the guest of honor.”

“One of the guests of honor,” Chat Noir corrected from behind them.

Ladybug shot him a smile. “Of course.”

Chloe led them down to the main floor, introducing them to other guests. Ladybug grinned and waved at her classmates as she passed them, glad to see that they had also received invitations. The ballroom had been beautifully decorated in black and red with green accents as a nod to Chat Noir.

“Everything looks beautiful, Chloe.”

Chat Noir nodded. “Yeah, this is amazing!”

“Well, you two are out saving Paris every day. The least we can do is throw you an amazing party,” Chloe answered.

“Hey, Chat Noir!” Nino waved from across the room.

Chat Noir grinned and crossed the room to greet him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask him to DJ,” Ladybug commented, smiling as Chat Noir struck up an easy conversation with Nino.

“He offered,” Chloe replied, “But I thought he’d enjoy the party more if he didn’t.”

“That’s sweet of you.”

Chloe smirked. “I can be sweet, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Ladybug blushed, lips tingling with the memory of kissing Chloe. She could almost swear she still tasted her lipgloss.

“Oh, Chloe!” Sabrina ran up to them. “This party is perfect! And you look amazing!”

“Thanks, Sabrina.” Chloe looked her over. “That dress looks great on you.”

“So does yours! Where did you get it?”

“Actually…” Chloe smiled. “My girlfriend made it.”

Ladybug glanced over at her, warmth flooding her chest at being called Chloe’s anything, much less Chloe’s girlfriend. She had to admit, she liked the sound of it.

“Do you mean Marinette?” Sabrina asked.

Chloe nodded, her eyes darting to Ladybug to catch her reaction. “Of course.”

Ladybug grinned, thrilled beyond words. “Well, she certainly did a wonderful job.”

“She always does,” Chloe answered fondly.

Ladybug spent the rest of the evening answering questions and greeting fans, thoughts of Chloe crowding her mind more with each passing moment. Finally, she and Chat Noir left, thanking Chloe one more time for the wonderful event on their way out.

Hours later, once the party was done and clean-up was mostly finished, Chloe collapsed onto her bed, sighing into the comforter. The party had been an incredible amount of work, but it was worth it to celebrate Ladybug.

A soft knock sounded from her balcony, and Chloe sat up.

Speaking of Ladybug…

She grinned and ran to open the door. “I thought you went home.”

“Well…” Ladybug smiled. “I had something else I wanted to say.”

“You did?”

Ladybug leaned in for a soft kiss, cradling Chloe’s cheeks in her palms and savoring the sound of Chloe’s breath catching in her throat. She moved back and whispered into Chloe’s parted lips, “So, girlfriend, huh?”

Chloe nodded, the curve of her lip catching on Ladybug’s as she did. “If you want.”

“I do.” Ladybug leaned in for another, longer kiss, tasting the familiar honey gloss on Chloe’s lips. “It’s perfect.”

[rockrevoltmagazine]

KISS Plays Cleveland One Last Time - Maybe, Possibly, Could Be.....Probably Not - But Should It Be?

Be warned – this is a review but – it’s also filled with more than its fair share of personal blathering about a band that I hold very close to my heart so – proceed with caution.

KISS filled the hall at Cleveland’s Quicken Loans Arena on Sunday night – I know that this review is a day late but – I needed some time to process my thoughts. I love KISS, love them. They have been a part of my life since 1975 when my school mate Chuck brought out a copy of Dressed To Kill and stuck that magic disc on the turntable. Instantly hooked by the look, the sound, the strangeness – it propelled me from listening to Elvis and Elton John headlong down the highway of Metal – a road I’m still traveling almost 50 years later.

To my parents credit – my sudden infatuation with four dudes dressed like a demon, a star child, a cat and an alien did not lead them to fear for my mortal soul, nor did they stop me from vibrating the walls on a daily basis with the ever spinning songs of KISS Alive. In 1976, when Destroyer hit – things for this KISS fan went into overdrive – I had to be a member of the KISS ARMY – and I had to see them in concert. I was all of 15 years old – had never attended an actual live metal show but as a Christmas gift that year – my parents got me a ticket to see the “the hottest band in the world”.

So began what has become a lifelong love affair with the band so – when this opportunity arose to actually review their so called End Of The Road visit – excited doesn’t quite do the feeling justice.

I’ve seen the band a few other times through the years – and I have been able to see Gene and Ace both perform as solo artists but Sunday night was the first time since that winter night 43 years ago that I was going to see the full on stage show that mesmerized me in my youth.

So, let’s get into this. The opening act was not a band or local up and comer -it was an artist. Not just any artist though – street artist David Garibaldi is amazing to watch. Using his hands and splashing paint around in seemingly random patterns – when all is said and done he ends up with an amazing portrait of the band – with the city skyline in the background and the famous script Cleveland prominently featured – far more entertaining to watch unfold then one might think.

After a short break – the lights dim and the now infamous phrase “All right Cleveland! You wanted the best and you got the best – the hottest band in the world – KISS!” starts the night rocking. The curtain drops to expose an elaborate stage set up with the band descending from the ceiling while fire erupts – smoke rolls – fireworks explode and lasers flash. Detroit Rock City pours from the speakers. This starts a nearly 2 hour – 20 song set that spans the bands entire 45 plus year career. The only thing missing was the other half of the team that created the majority of the memories that are filling my mind as I take all of this in. Nothing against Eric Singer and Tommy Thayer – who have more than adequately filled the spots left open by the departure of Peter Criss and Ace Frehley respectively. And they killed it on this Sunday night – rock solid, both of them but – it wasn’t the same – it just wasn’t the same.

Does any of that have any impact on the quality of the show? From a “spectacle ” standpoint – not at all. KISS is still one of the best live acts out there – their production quality is the standard by which all other live shows are judged. But a cool ass stage show can only take you so far – and for a farewell show, if that is what this actually ends up being – as a mega-fan, my only regret would be that the original team that created the magic that transfixed me as a child couldn’t find a way to get their shit together and give the fans what they truly wanted – Gene, Paul, Ace and Peter on stage, one last time.

Which leads me to believe – we may have a few more farewell tours in our future.

Now – getting back to the show on Sunday night – all the elements of KISS legend were in place. We got Gene spitting blood, we got Gene spitting fire – we got the giant confetti blizzard at the end of the show – actually, I think the most confetti I have personally ever seen dropped on a crowd. At one point I actually couldn’t see the stage for the bomb cyclone of paper shreds that was getting blown around, and of course an immense amount of pyro and fog. Was it fun? – absolutely. Was it well done? – oh, hell yeah! Was it worthy of being the last show to celebrate the nearly 50-year career of one of, if not THE most influential metal bands ever? Not so much.

I take a little solace as -I honestly don’t think the band has any plans on retiring anytime soon. If a final tour ever does materialize, Ace and Peter must be a part of it. Eric and Tommy need – and deserve to be involved as well – they have been a huge part of the last 10 plus years but – if it really is the End Of The Road – the fans deserve to relive the true magic that made us an Army – one last time.

If this is the best Gene and Paul can put together to thank a legion of fans that have spent a lifetime buying their albums, shirts, concert tickets, trading cards and any other thing they can slap their logo on – perhaps it is indeed, the End Of The Road.

I realize that all of that may seem a bit harsh but – I had to get it out of my head and I think there are a lot of other long time fans that may share the same opinion and you need to know – you’re not alone.

Let me wrap this all up by revealing – I still loved the hell out of this show – I sang along with every damn song and Black Diamond – I know Rock and Roll All Night gets all the love but – damn, Black Diamond remains this old grumpy KISS fans favorite song and Tommy Thayer screamed out the solo on this classic rocker. There really is a lot to love about this current tour and Paul Stanley remains one of the most energetic frontmen on the stage – he’s pushing 70 and still manages to dance around that stage just like he did as a 20-year-old – when they hit the town closest to you – have your ass in a seat but remember – it’s not the End Of The Road till the fans say it is. KISS ARMY forever!

KISS Plays Cleveland One Last Time – Maybe, Possibly, Could Be…..Probably Not – But Should It Be? was originally published on RockRevolt Mag

[tornrose24]

Moana fan fic drawings part 3 (WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THE FAN FIC. LOOK AT YOUR OWN RISK.)

So here are the last drawings for ‘Only a Voice’ which can be found on fan fiction.net under the name HolyMaiden24 (and these drawings can be found on Deviantart under the same tumblr name). These drawings cover the last chapters of the fic so… yeah, spoilers. Also possible trigger warning for blood.

1. So I drew this moment from chapter 12 long before I wrote it. In which Moana has a BIG regret when she realizes something from chapter 9 (If anyone was wondering, she was charmed more by Tamatoa’s charisma than looks at the time. Even then, I wasn’t clear on what he looked like for the reader’s interpretation). 2. So I tried to do this next drawing ‘tattoo’ style and I admit its not that good (and the background color was random choice) but I did it because.... I wanted to experiment and I wasn’t eager to try drawing realistic giant crabs anytime soon.

3. This was one of those things I knew I wanted for the fic but when I tried drawing it, it made me recall how small Moana was in comparison to Maui and I had to think on how I could get the visual I wanted and not have Moana covered up completely by Maui. So this drawing also helped influence how I wrote the scene in question. As you can tell, this is where I’m trying to make Maui look a little more closer to his design (I have a hard time with drawing lips, but I wanted to experiment with him in this round of drawings).

4. The chibi but not as bloody version of the scene from above in question. Again, some experimentation. Also I want to add that I like Moana’s ceremonial dress, but I like it a little more without the headdress.

5. Ok I admit this was my first attempt at drawing a slightly more full scale version of Tamatoa, so next time I might have better luck on drawing him in all his accurately sized and bioluminescent glory. I was aiming for a ‘Shadow of the Colossus’ type of visual, like how Moana’s fight with Tamatoa went down. This was a visual I had long before this chapter was actually written and I wanted to include it but you can tell its more concept art than anything (Maui wasn’t holding onto that rock when I finally wrote the moment out). Also in case you can’t find Moana, she is standing on the left rock. Actually a lot of these drawings were made long before I wrote out these chapters. Might as well just say it before I keep saying it.

6. We are getting into heavy spoiler territory so... yeah, bad doodle of writer to discourage those who are about to get too far in.  

7. One of my favorite drawings from an otherwise depressing chapter. Originally there wasn’t blood and then I just went with it along with some bruising. I don’t even know what else to say about it to be honest but if you like looking at details, you might see something I didn’t write in this chapter because I thought it would be too silly to mention during this moment. You’ll know what I’m talking about when you see it.

8. The dream woman.... AKA Te Fiti. So the first drawing of her and the ocean was SUPPOSED to be in the last batch of drawings but I opted not to because I had a feeling people would quickly figure out who she was before I could reveal it. I opted to use gray colors from a green monochrome on photoshop to keep with the nature theme, in addition to giving her actual green eyes to hint at her divine status. This was when I knew how I wanted to bring Moana back to life, though at first I wanted Moana to be in the process of dying before I decided to completely kill her off first. I loved the idea of using the hongi as a way to bring someone back to life since its known as the ‘breath of life’ and there was something highly spiritual about using it in such a way. I almost regard it as the reverse of what happened in the film (you know what I’m talking about and I’m not going to spoil it if by some miracle you didn’t see the film).

9. My personal favorite of these drawings and one that was inspired by the ending of the Disney version of the Little Mermaid (its the moment where Ariel goes up to Eric in that purple dress and he spins her around in the air for a moment. I even used it as a reference for this drawing). Things like this make me happy. Also I don’t know what kind of tattoo Maui would have on the other side of his back instead of the one of Te Ka, so I also lucked out with this pose.

10. .... Maybe not the hug that was written out in the fan fic, but its still a hug and any image of Moana and Maui hugging makes me happy. Oh yeah, and she has lips in this drawing this time. *laughs* Any way, thanks for looking at these drawings and reading the fan fic. :)