#like people look back on them more fondly now they were VERY bad adaptations but fun movies overall with some good scenes

[rotisseries]

tired of people who want pjo movie references in the disney+ show. "logan lerman should've been-" i don’t care. "poker face in the casino-" actually i hope ms. gaga keeps her entire discography miles away from it. i don't care move on

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 15 - Liar Liar [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Dishonesty requires practice.

Series Masterlist

Every spy knew things could go downhill on a mission. Considering how your last mission had ended with your ex, you weren’t exactly unfamiliar with the idea of your cover being blown but—

None of the targets were as dangerous as this one.

For a moment, you thought about pushing that button on your wristwatch and calling your whole team here because there was no way you could take down the legendary Winter Soldier in a fight, but through the haze of panic, a voice in your head told you not to.

It was just a mission.

As long as you kept your calm, you could fix this.

“Bucky,” you heard yourself say, “I can explain.”

He stared at you and the gun in his hand, then raised his brows.

“Okay,” he said, “Yeah, please explain why you have a gun.”

God damn it.

Okay, you had to think. Your cover was the naïve sweet civilian girl so any sentence you formed had to fit the description. The spy in you was already trying to come up with something, you had been taught to lie without even blinking but somehow it felt almost—

Wrong.

You tried to pull yourself together, shaking your head.

“I—it’s—“ you took a deep breath, “Yeah I have a gun.”

“I can see that,” he said drily, “Why?”

Good question.

Why would the small town sweetheart have a gun?

The cover story didn’t have anything like that, so you had to come up with a believable lie based on—

Oh. Bingo.

“I was going to tell you,” you said. “I’ve actually—I’ve had it for weeks.”

“For weeks?” he repeated, “Why?”

You ran a hand over your eyes, then crossed your arms and shrugged.

“I’m going to need more than that, Y/N.”

You gritted your teeth and raised your glances to look up at him. “After I got mugged,” you started, “I told one of my friends back home about what happened and she’s—she came up with this idea that I should maybe buy a gun because I—I don’t know. I don’t know why I bought it, I just bought it.”

“You bought a gun because your friend told you to?”

You tilted your head, “No Bucky, I bought a gun because I got mugged and got shot within the first month of moving here.”

His gaze on you was fixed, as if he was trying to see whether you were lying or not but now that panic wasn’t taking over you, you could think straight.

Bucky was a legend among the espionage world and he was unstoppable and you probably didn’t stand a chance against him yes, but you had one advantage.

Bucky was a soldier, not a spy.

Spies were different. Bucky had the physical training to go after a target, but he never, ever had to manipulate them emotionally. You were one step ahead on that and if there was anything that could get you out of this mess, that was it.

“Listen I know that you’re concerned, but you have nothing to worry about,” you waved a dismissive hand, “The guy at the shop was very helpful, he even gave me his number—”

His head shot up, “What?”

“Yeah in case I needed anything with the gun. Or if I had any questions.”

A shadow crossed his eyes and he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Did he now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “And besides, I watched a bunch of tutorials so I think I got it. I’m a very quick learner.”  

“Tutorials?”

“Yeah, videos.”

He blinked a couple of times, and looked down at the gun before looking up at you.

“You watched videos.”

“Mm hm. One of the guys even had a deer head mounted on the wall behind him, it’s very clear he knows what he’s talking about.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself and you had to remind yourself not to smile.

“And I know how to take the safety off,” you added, “After that point it’s basically point and pull the trigger, that’s what the video said.”

“I don’t even know where to begin— sweetheart,” he turned to you, “Forget what the video said, I can teach you if you want, but for what it’s worth, I think it’s a terrible idea.”

Hook, line and sinker.

“I hate guns,” you insisted, “It’s just that—Stacey said it’s a big city and after I got shot… I don’t know. I know I should’ve told you, I just didn’t want you to think I’m some kind of a paranoid person.”

He heaved a sigh and reached out to tug you by the hand so that he could pull you closer.

“I don’t think you’re paranoid,” he said. “I just think that you could hurt yourself or someone if you don’t have any training.”

“The guy made it sound pretty easy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think selling it was the only thing he wanted.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Now who’s being paranoid?”

“I’m just being observant.”

“Jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he said and you scrunched up your nose

“Right,” you said, “Of course you’re not.”

“So is there anything I should know about?” he changed the subject, “Anything at all? I won’t judge, I swear.”

You pressed your lips together as you looked up at him. What could you say to that?

I’ve been manipulating you all along.

I’m working for the same government that is looking for you to slip and make a mistake.

When this is over, I’m probably going to hate myself much more than you hate me.

Yeah. There was absolutely nothing you could say.

“Nothing I can think of right now,” you shrugged your shoulders, “So, can we go now?”

                                    ***

You could barely remember the last time you had been to a funfair. It didn’t even matter that you already knew where you were going, you were still quite excited despite the earlier panic you had gone through. Thankfully, Bucky seemed to have bought into your story but it didn’t mean you weren’t taking mental notes about what to do by the time the date was over.

Or when you were out of his sight, whichever.

“Thank you!” you said what it felt for the hundredth time as you put a piece of cotton candy into your mouth, enjoying the sweet taste melting in your mouth and Bucky smiled at you fondly.

“No problem darling.”

“No seriously, I haven’t been to a funfair in…I don’t know, forever!” you said, “Wait, so it was a thing back then?”

“Hm?”

“Bringing your date to a funfair?”

He nodded, walking beside you, “Yeah. There wasn’t much to do and you know, lots of people.”

“So no gossip?”

“Lots of gossip,” he corrected you, “But at least—“

“No one’s virtue got damaged.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” you grinned at him and gasped when something caught your eye, making him turn his head.

“What?”

“Oh my God!” you pointed at the huge neon sign and he followed your gaze, then scoffed a laughter.

“Seriously?”

“I want to try it.”

“Shoot The Ducks.” He read out loud, “You know what, let’s see how good you are if you watched that many videos.”

“I’m going to get that teddy bear,” you pointed at the biggest teddy bear sitting on the top shelf while he looked like he was fighting a laugh.

“Are you sure you can carry that?”

“You’re going to carry it for me,” you said as you handed him the cotton candy, your nose in the air and tugged him by the wrist to lead him to the shooting range. You took a look at the paper ducks with bullseye on them, then turned to the man behind the counter.

“Excuse me, how many of those should I shoot to get that?” you asked, motioning at the teddy bear and the man looked up.

“3 sets, all bullseye.”

“Okay,” you said and reached for your purse but Bucky had already paid the man by the time you could get your wallet out. He gave you the toy rifle and you had to remind yourself you were supposed to be terrible at it no matter how much you wanted that goddamn plushie.

The good thing about being an expert sniper was that you knew exactly how to miss and look like an amateur. So you pointed the rifle slightly to the right and took your shot, and as expected you missed.

“No!” you whined and Bucky stifled a chuckle, but adapted a look of seriousness as soon as you turned around to look at him with your eyes narrowed.

“I said nothing.”

“That was just bad luck,” you insisted, then took your shot again, deliberately missing once more. You lowered the rifle, pouting.

“I’m pretty sure this is rigged.”

“Or maybe the guy with the deer head on his wall had no idea what he was talking about,” Bucky pointed out, “Almost like watching videos isn’t enough to figure out how to shoot, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

“On the contrary, I am a little terrified now that I know you have a gun," he taunted you, “And seeing this…”

You glared at him and took your shot, missing again and you heaved a sigh, lowering the rifle again.

“Better luck next time miss,” the man said and you offered him a small smile. Bucky heaved a sigh as if he was fighting himself.

“Which one did you say you wanted again?” he asked and you pulled your brows together, then pointed at the huge teddy bear. He nodded at the guy and handed him some cash after giving you your cotton candy back, then grabbed the toy rifle from the man and in only a couple of seconds, he had hit every single bullseye, making your jaw drop.

Okay.

You were so screwed.

You knew that he was a great super soldier but seeing it was something else. A shiver ran down your spine as what you had read on his file flashed before your eyes. You were right earlier, you had to make sure to avoid any kind of combat with him by the time this whole mission was over.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up and you tried to pull yourself together, letting out a breath.

“Wow,” you managed to say and the man behind the counter gawked between you two.

“Um— that one please?” you said and he blinked a couple of times, then reached out to take the teddy bear down to put it into your arms. You let out a small squeal of glee, then beamed at Bucky.

“Thank you!” you said, trying to keep your nervousness hidden and he smiled.

“No problem,” he motioned at you and you gave the teddy to him so that you could hold your cotton candy better. You shook your head slightly, distracting yourself with the sweetness on your tongue but a small laughter escaped from your lips when you took a look at the sight beside you.

The scary Winter Soldier holding a huge teddy bear in his arms.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you managed to say, “I’m going to name him Bucky.”

“No you’re not.”

“Fine, I’m going to name him Grumpy,” you said, “Same deal.”

“Hey!” he protested and you giggled, then looked around.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his hand, “Let’s go to the Ring Toss!”

                                ***

It was as if the time was going faster on your every single date with Bucky. Even after spending hours in that funfair until midnight, you were still quite giddy when you and Bucky reached your building. You let out a giggle as you turned around and took the huge teddy bear from him, hugging it tight.

“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him, “Really. I…I think it was the best that I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” you said, “And now I have to find something equally amazing for a modern date, so no pressure.”

He chuckled, “You don’t have to find anything,” he said, “I’d be happy just being with you, not doing anything.”

Warmth filled your insides and you smiled.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nodded and you put the teddy bear down, then stood on your tiptoes to pull him down to a kiss.

His arm wrapped around your waist and you found yourself sighing as his other hand cupped your cheek. A fire – a very, very familiar fire started burning at the pit of your stomach as you felt yourself melt at his touch, every single doubt about the mission and the strategies and everything else wiping out of your mind until desire was the only thing left. He brushed your hair behind your ear as you pulled back and looked up at him, the same fire burning in his eyes but he was better than you at hiding it so a gentle smile pulled at his lips.

Fuck what the strategy report says.

“Um—“ you took a deep breath, “Would you want to come upstairs for...a cup of coffee or something?”

He looked almost surprised at the suggestion but for what it was worth, he overcame that quite fast. His gaze stopped on you for a moment before he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “Yeah I’d love to.”

A nervous laughter escaped from you and you nodded,

“Okay—“ you started but before you could say anything, his phone started ringing. He closed his eyes for a moment and took it out of his pocket to answer it.

“This is not a good time man,” he said, but his frown deepened as he listened to the other line, “Right now? Are you serious?”

You tilted your head and he heaved a deep sigh while the person told him something you couldn’t hear.

“Fine,” he muttered, “I’ll be there.”

Oh God damn it.

“Let me guess,” you said when he hung up, “Change of plans?”

He ran a hand over his eyes and nodded.

“Sam says there’s this group of people in need of help…” he grumbled, putting the phone into his pocket, “But somebody better be dying because if not, I can fix that really fast.”

You let out a laugh, “Don’t be like that,” you said, “It’s fine. I told you, I’m not going anywhere. Go save lives.”

“I’m really sorry darling.”

“It’s fine,” you repeated with a smile and pecked him on the lips before picking up the huge teddy bear. “But be careful, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted and you blew him a kiss before walking into the building. You took the elevator, still holding the teddy tight and as soon as you got to your floor you stepped out.

“What the hell is that?” Keith’s voice reached you and you tilted your head to look around the teddy’s arm to see him by his door, as if he was just leaving.

“It’s a teddy bear,” you said, walking to your door to open it, Keith following you into the apartment.

“What’s in it?” he asked, “Weapons? Guns? Knives?”

“…Fiber.”

“Y/N—” he started but you put it on the floor and took a step back.

“Where are you going?”

“General gave me a mission,” he said, “You seriously want me to believe you just got a teddy bear just because?”

“I was on a date.”

“Oh,” he said, “Romantic. It would be a great way to hide weapons though, even you have to admit—”

“Bucky found my gun.”

Keith stopped talking and stared at you for a couple of seconds, “I beg your pardon?”

You rubbed at your eyes, “You heard me. He found my gun.”

“Why the hell did you not alert me?”

“There was no need.”

Keith threw his head back, “Are you serious right now?” he asked you, “This is the freaking Winter Soldier we’re talking about, you’re not supposed to take any chances! For God’s sake, I live next door for a reason!”

“My cover wasn’t blown,” you insisted, “If you or the team got here, all this would’ve been for nothing. I handled it.”

He crossed his arms, “Still an unnecessary risk to take,” he insisted, “Anything could’ve happened, Y/N. You’ve read his file.”

You nodded, “I handled it,” you said, “You should go by the way. You’re going to be late, the General hates that.”

“Do you want me to say anything to him?”

You thought for a moment and shook your head.

“No,” you said, “Good luck.”

“We will talk about this when I came back.” he pointed at you and left your apartment. You took a look at the teddy bear, then grabbed your phone to touch Chloe’s name.

“Hey there!” she answered on the first ring, “How was the funfair?”

“It was good,” you said, “Listen, I need you to make sure my background is solid.”

“What?” she asked, “It is, I made sure of that—“

“Bucky found my gun,” you said, “Earlier.”

She took in a sharp breath, “God damn it.”

“No it’s fine, I came up with this story of buying it from a shop after the mugging, but…”

“You need a document just in case,” she completed your sentence, “Got it. Do you think he would check?”

“No,” you said, “But Wilson might, he and Bucky are pretty close. It would be much harder to trick him.”

“Got it,” she said, “I’ll get the document ready, maybe some footage… And I’ll go over your social media just in case.”

“Great.”

“But are you okay?”

You paused only for a moment,

“Sure,” you said, “I’m fine, I handled it. It’s all going according to plan.”

“Alright,” she said, “I’d better get to it. Be careful!”

“You too,” you said and hung up, then went to the kitchen to grab a couple of knives before going back to the living room.

“Sorry about this Bucky number two,” you murmured as you turned it around, stuck the knife into it and started ripping it, “But you really would make a good place to hide weapons.”

Chapter 16

[ofhouseadama]

could I dm you this? yes. but also asks are fun even though this question is mean so. how do Ed and Lorraine react to the Vietnam war?

Okay so my Ed and Lorraine are absolutely Kennedy Democrats, are both very excited and enthusiastic about the first Catholic president, but both are against the Vietnam War and US military intervention from the start. Ed's already fought in one imperialist proxy war, he's got the PTSD to prove it, and Lorraine just is truly repulsed by violence of any kind.

And also like, to go completely left field for a minute -- I've been thinking a lot about how teenage Lored were effectively trapped at 17-19 years old. Mostly financially, and in different ways. in 1951, Lorraine wouldn't have been able to have her own bank account. Women wouldn't have the right to open their own bank account until the 60s or have a credit card until the 70s -- her money would have been her father's, effectively. and while probably not maliciously, since she was a young woman she likely wouldn't have had much access to her pay checks unless she was cashing them directly. Ed, meanwhile, while trying to survive a negligent/abusive household, absolutely would have been spending money on things most teens wouldn't have to in order to survive... and that's before getting the draft notice from the Selective Service, which took away even more control of his own life.

So I see Ed and Lorraine getting married young (even for the 50s, they're a few years younger than the median, though the war was actively driving that age down) mostly out of making the most out of what they could together. Ed putting Lorraine on his bank accounts and asking her actively to manage them while he's away, and her depositing her paychecks into his account would give her more financial control in her life than most women of the era. Lorraine's engagement ring (the size of that goddamn rock) is even an insurance policy most women her age and demographic didn't have -- often when women fled marriages, it was only with their jewelry to sell. It's half about Ed's possessive streak, half him showing he's not afraid to give her the money to run, if she needed to.

Anyway -- the trauma of their late teens and early twenties is entirely rooted in the rising Cold War anxieties and the locus of harm done to women in the 50s and I fully see their pursuit of demonology and the supernatural as something Lorraine initially started while working as a secretary for the Diocese, something she did to stay late at work and help people she could physically reach while Ed was away at war. She initially started staying late on the days she knew Father Gordon would be bringing in a scared family or terrified couple or frightened soul in through the back door hours after everyone had left, staying to pray and keep herself nearby, to be an observer to a fight she could be party to. Father Gordon figures her out quickly, of course, asking what interest she has in demons and exorcisms, and figures out she's clever with records and archives, almost to an uncanny degree.

And then figures out to exactly what uncanny degree.

After Ed came home and became the husband instead of the boyfriend, it turned into something Ed could throw all his metaphorical demons onto and a healthy way to exercise his control issues and fear and anxiety that doesn't (generally) affect Lorraine because she's fighting with him side by side in this, when before they were separated by thousands of miles -- the beginning everyone's favorite Catholic battle couple very much rooted in Ed and Lorraine parsing out who brought home metaphorical demons from the war, and who brought home literal ones, and bringing them to Father Gordon when necessary. Rooted in Ed needing to be useful, to dusting off his Catholic school Latin and reading everything he could get his hands on so that he could continue to help, continue to fight.

Lorraine would have been pregnant with Judy during the heightening tensions with Cuba and as Kennedy is sending more and more military "advisors" to Vietnam and Cold War tensions flared the hottest they'd get in the 1960s and I can just see both of their control issues revving up, especially with a few-months-old baby in the mix. Just the two of them laying bed, looking down at their three month old baby girl, wondering if they'd all get nuked tomorrow. If war would be declared tomorrow. If they'd all be dead, if they brought her into the world just to die violently. It's like taking guns off the street. They can't control the White House, or the Soviets, or Cuba or China or or or -- but they know about demons, they know about spirits, they know about taking these bombs off the battlefield, in the war of good against evil, and this is a war they can be foot soldiers in together.

Lorraine would get a bit of relief in the March of '63 when Kennedy dropped married men with children to the bottom of the draft pool, and then dropped the age of the draft pool to 26, aging Ed out of the Selective Service entirely. And then in November, JFK would be assassinated, and the photo of Jackie Kennedy covered in blood, leaving the hospital hand-in-hand with RFK, would be on the front page of every newspaper in the country. It would be a jolt for both of them -- but it wouldn't fully hit Lorraine until seven years later, when she'd have her first vision of Ed's death and fully understand Jackie Kennedy's weary, "I want them to see what they have done to Jack."

After the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution in August of 1964, they fully throw themselves into taking cases almost full time. As the war heats up, Ed pulls back from teaching art classes at the VA. If he spends too much time there, he has to face how pointless the violence has been. If he spends too much time there, now, he has to face that he still doesn't know why he survived. Why he lived, and everyone else on board the ship with him died. Because he still doesn't know, he still is fighting to make his life matter in a way that makes sense to him. All he has is his sense of duty, a couple of college credits, and his hands. On good days, he knows that he's loved -- that Lorraine loves him so much it makes it hurt to breathe, that he's a good father to his daughter, who will never be afraid of him.

Ed has a complete PTSD relapse in 1966, with the beginning of the ground war and the full-throated resurgence of the American propaganda machine and military recruitment. He's back in the guilt spiral, the "I never had it that bad, I was only in the Navy for two years, I never had it that bad," just feeding into "why did I live when everyone else I fought with died," back and forth until he can't sleep, can only sleep when Judy sleeps, accidentally ends up adapting himself to her nap schedule and has to sleep with his hand on her chest, feeling her breathe.

Lorraine calls in Chief, after Ed can't get out of bed for 72 hours and misses mass for the first time in his life. Chief, who comes up from Brooklyn to remind Ed of the time their entire ship exploded and Ed treaded water for eight hours and everyone else died. How they spent the next six months getting drunk whenever they weren't on duty and picking fights they couldn't get out of, and that one time they got thrown in the brig because Chief struck a superior asshole and Ed just followed him into the fight. (No, Lorraine does not know about that time Ed and Chief ended up in the brig. She will never know about that time. Judy will at some point in her early 20s learn about that time, when she needs to learn about how her parents are people, who have absolutely made mistakes in their lives.) "You and I spent six months drunk," Chief says, bouncing Judy on his knee in the kitchen over a cup of coffee, Ed refusing to look at him as he deep cleans the stove. "And then your dad died, and your sainted wife handled everything for you, and we realized we couldn't send you home to her like that."

"I still don't know why I lived."

Chief shrugs. "It doesn't matter why, son. The same reason any of us live, and any of us die. It doesn't matter. You have a little girl now who depends on you. She matters more than any goddamn reason -- you live for her, and your saint of a wife, and for all the people that you help. So that you can look them in the face, say you've been down in the hole that they're in now, and you know the way out."

Lorraine calls in Chief, because she absolutely picked a fight after mass that day without Ed, with Judy on her hip. Overheard Dorothy O'Malley running her mouth in the pew in front of her sounding like a national security ghoul and didn't even think before she opened her mouth and unloading the full force of her anxiety and anger on her. Only stops because she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder and Father Gordon murmuring in her ear, "Okay Mrs. Warren, you've made your point," while leading her away. It's the "Mrs. Warren" instead of the familiar "Lorraine" that jolts her back to herself, kissing Judy's head as she tries to shake herself out of it.

"Thank you," she tells Father Gordon, defeated.

He shrugs. "You don't come to confession until before Friday night prayer service. I didn't want you stewing on this all week." Pausing, he takes a moment to fondly tug on one of Judy's pig tails, making her laugh. "If Ed's not... feeling well, I know about that."

Lorraine bites her lip, knowing full and well that Father Gordon served as a chaplain in World War II. That seeing the violence of the Nazis firsthand is what convinced him that the Devil was more than a metaphor, that evil truly walked the Earth. Sent him on his own path, chasing darkness.

Lorraine nods.

"I could talk to him," Father Gordon says. "But it would likely come better from someone he served with."

When she gets home, she finds Chief's number in their phone book, and calls Brooklyn for the first and last time. He comes up the next day, and shoos her out of the house to do something for herself for the first time in months, telling her that he's more than equipped to look after a single three year old.

Ed goes back to teaching at the VA a few months after that, teaching art to the new round of mentally scarred children returning from war. He concedes to group therapy, and a few sessions with the VA psychiatrist to get something to take the edge off. He teaches at the VA until the troop withdrawals in 1970, reducing his class load as he and Lorraine take on more and more cases -- verging towards a hundred a year -- for the Catholic Church, and the media attention that comes along with that, the publicity engagements that help keep their bills paid, the articles and academic talks.

Even still, Ed occasionally brings home someone for dinner, just to make sure that they've only brought metaphorical demons home from war with them, not literal ones.

Sometimes it's literal ones.

[twentytarot]

hi everyone! in this pick a card i hope to show you the person that you will (romantically) love the most in this life, and answer the question of whether you will be able to be happy with this person forever. this means this person isn’t necessarily your soulmate, they’re just the one person you dream of choosing over anyone else! pick the image that sets your thoughts off and scroll down to your respective pile for your reading~ 💞

PILE ONE: SUNSET

your person has gone through some things in life, and it’s made them smart, strong, tolerant and patient. what more can we ask for, honestly, right? for most of you this person will be a virgo, but for some they’ll be a leo. or maybe a combination of both. the only small issue i see here is that they don’t really pay much attention to their emotions, and by extension, others’ as well. not that they would offend people on purpose, just that they may prioritise a goal over someone’s feelings, for example.

lucky you, it looks like you will be with this person for a very long time! you might have just met, or you’ll be meeting them soon at school or work. at least one of you will still be pretty junior when you meet. the connection will be a little bit magical, a little bit telepathic, like you understand and complement each other down to each of your powers and your nature. like i said, this person doesn’t really think about romantic things, but they will start to do more and more of the things you like— basically, they want to and will treat you right if you give them a little push in the right direction. you will start a family that is very balanced and has a healthy amount of discipline. i’m feeling libra... maybe you’ll have a libra child with this person? or maybe it’ll be libra season when you meet, or become official, or marry... it’ll resonate differently for everyone.

lastly, i want to say that this connection is very much mental > physical. i feel like some of you may be asexual? regardless, it’s unlikely that you will be attracted to each others looks at first, you’ll love each other for the other’s personality.

PILE TWO: COUPLE

what an exciting soulmate this is! firstly, yes, this person is your soulmate above being the person you will love the most. huge libra vibes. some of you will see scorpio or gemini, though. your person is daring, they have no trouble leaving safety if they think the next big thing will be worth it, and they’ll adapt to the next environment to the point where they’re unrecognisable from their previous self. yet, they’re pretty intense, so i can’t call them a chameleon. your person also has a way with words— they could convince someone the sky is green if they tried hard enough. they could work in the legal fraternity.

now, for the question on whether you’ll be happy together forever, i want to say it’s a soft yes right now. this relationship might be a little volatile; perhaps you or they are a rather argumentative person by nature (more them than you, honestly) so “fights” break out often. i also get the feeling you’re not someone who actually goes against the flow very often— you like your stability in the long run, even if this intense person excites you. they may not appreciate the steadiness you offer, and you may find their drastic ways too dramatic for your comfort. lady luck is on your side, so i think you will pull through, and the two of you will also be very genuinely and purely in love with each other. that being said... at the point where you meet and get together, neither of you would have your eyes wide open enough to see what the other is here to teach you. and so the puzzle pieces will fit, but wrongly. and when the two of you get to fitting the last few pieces, you’ll realise your mistake. i don’t see you getting out of having a huge fight when this happens. will you have the patience and tenacity to crumble the picture back to pieces and start again? i hope you will, darling, because i really think it’ll be worth it.

PILE THREE: SNOW GLOBE

wow, we have a very good looking person on our hands! for some of you this person could just be a little younger than you, but for most, i’m feeling pretty immature vibes coming from this person. they want what they want, you know? they’re likely a sagittarius-capricorn cusp, but more likely capricorn over sagittarius. they’re determined, ambitious and cocky, but boy do they have the qualifications to back themselves up. when they approach you, they will already know they have you.

and yet, you will not stay. this person underestimates the choices you have. you are not powerless yourself, and they know, yet they choose to believe you won’t use it. but you will, because no matter how much someone has your heart, your heart is not your everything, and i know you are not the kind of person to drop your professional life over a 5-carat diamond ring. neither are you the kind of person to allow someone to stand you up more than once without so much as a text. and so you will reconsider your choices, and there will be someone else. a water sign. you will always remember the fire you had with the person before, but this other person will wash away the flames and leave behind a calming stream that you will have to admit, is better for you in the long run.

i know you really wanted this person, darling, but they were dimming your light without even knowing it. and they might have been the person for you, but you weren’t the person for them. or maybe there’s no one that will be able to make them understand. whatever the case is, this person is not yours to keep.

PILE FOUR: HANDS

gosh, i can totally see why you’re smitten for this person. they’re so romantic! it’s in the way they push their hair back, in the way they look at you when you’re recalling a story, and in the flowers they have sent to your workplace, and the sound of them singing love songs to you, and their lofty dreams of a beautiful family in the future... it all makes you swoon. and how apt, this person is a pisces or a taurus, both pretty romantic signs! did i mention they’re not too bad looking either? wow. it’s the full package.

...except they’re not the sharpest tool in the shed. they’re not dumb, just not very clear cut or focused. they’re a little easily distracted, and people will want to distract them, for sure. and honestly, buddy, i’m not sure if you want to have to deal with all of that jealousy and people trying to steal your s/o out from underneath you.

which is why i would say soft no to staying together for the long haul. it’s really not just you, like i said, this person’s a little scatter-brained and may not have the one track mind they would need to make anyone feel secure in a relationship with them. there will be quite a few major gaps between you in terms of where you stand in life, love and your careers, and it’s bound to create misplaced feelings of insecurity. it’s truly not that you can’t make it out to the other side, in fact, if you do, it’s a relationship that will really last forever. but it will be hard, and when you’re at that crossroad, you will just have to go with your gut. you’ll know which path you’re meant to take, and even if it’s the one where the two of you don’t work out, you’ll look upon your days with this person fondly.

[acciocriativity]

All Too Well||Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader/Sirius' Daughter

Summary: The Second Wizard War was over more than a month ago and everybody had scars that might never be fully healed. This is not a new concept for you, you lost everything you once had.

Warnings: The whole thing is really angst

Word Count: 2,2k

A/N: I absolutely loved to write this fic, it is my first request so I'm a bit nervous haha. I hope you all enjoy!

I was used to the pain, both physical and emotional. After a week of Tonks and Lupin's funeral, everything was empty and the pain was numb, I had no hope that this would end anytime soon.

Largo Grimmauld's house had stayed for me, but after everything that happened, I couldn't even think of putting my feet there. To be fair, anywhere I could possibly go would have memories that are too painful to bear, so I rented a room in the Leaky Cauldron until I had an idea of ​​what to do with my life. I just didn't imagine it would take so long for that to happen.

Almost a month after the War was over, I had the willpower to go to the bank, as I was the last Black alive, everything that was in the coffers of those horrible people was now mine and they needed my consent to make the transfer.

To be honest I wish I had set fire to everything but unfortunately I needed money, my savings were almost over but I swore, even as a new millionaire, that I would not use anything more than necessary and that as soon as I had a job, I would return every penny, the minimum to make my father proud.

The next step took a few more days, visiting the abandoned house at Largo Grimmauld. For a few seconds I waited to see Kreacher there, which is really ironic, his bad mood would be the most comforting thing for me at the moment.

The pictures continued to scream, the mess was still in place, nothing new. There was no way I could live there at all, the few months I spent there were only possible because my father was there, Harry was there and obviously Mrs. Weasley's food helped a lot.

I haven't seen her since the Battle of Hogwarts, I knew that no Weasley would be against my visit, after all we were allies and even friends but I couldn't make it. They are dealing with their own losses and I know that He is there too.

He, it’s been a long time since I didn’t think about him or at least I wanted to fool myself thinking so. In the past year nothing has been able to take the eminent worry out of my heart, not for me but for him.

As I looked around the dusty room, I realized the stupid idea I had, here was the climax of my relationship with Harry.

- They would be very proud, you know - I said quietly looking at the brunette in the corner of my eye, he was looking at that picture again - not only because you are fighting as you can but because you are still you, you are still Harry, only Harry.

We were silent for a few seconds until I could see his green eyes staring at me in the pitch of the cold night, with only one lamp on and then he smiled, for how long I didn’t see his eyes shine so brightly?

- I guess only you think so but that's okay, I like just being Harry with you - he took one of my hands and we stayed like that, in silence, a moment of peace and quiet.

I felt an overwhelming urge to cry but I didn't allow myself to. Not after all this time that I was fixing the broken pieces of me. I took a deep breath and looked around, even though I knew there would be no one there, I went upstairs to my room.

Big mistake again, I already knew what would be waiting for me up there.

- Harry, what are you doing here ?? My dad will kill you if he finds out you are in my room! - I was in shock with the little love he had for his own life, since Sirius' room was right next to mine.

- And who said he needs to find out? In fact, we are not doing anything inappropriate, I just… - he didn't want to admit it, but it was always obvious, the dark circles under his eyes gave away his sleepless nights.

The only thing I did was make room on the bed, which was enough to make him smile and lie down with me. We didn't sleep, we just kept talking until the tiredness won us over but even without sleep, I felt that I was helping in some way.

I walked calmly through the room, it was the same way I had left it, the bed untied and the light blue paint already peeling, I opened the closet and started to take some clothes off the hangers.

I was sure that I would return there, that everything would work out, that I could somehow form a home at some point and how wrong I was...

The third step towards my full recovery was one of the most difficult decisions I had to make. Admitting that there was no more space for me in London, that I was alone and I could do nothing about it, that I needed to leave everything behind and start over once and for all.

In the meantime, I often visited that house. I was not ready to let go, even the things I hated the most there, which is basically everything.

The last step was to say goodbye, so I visited Tonks and Lupin’s grave, I also visited Andromeda for the first time and finally met Teddy Lupin. He was adorable as I had imagined, with his mother's colored hair.

I said that I needed to be away for a while and she replied the only thing I didn't expect to hear.

- I understand dear, but know that you can always have a home here with us - her voice gave me a comfort that I didn't know I needed until then.

- I will remember it fondly and I will really come back, I want to be in the life of this little one here, if you let me - and then, her response came with a motherly hug, I couldn't contain myself anymore.

I couldn't take the weight of the pain alone and she didn't say one word until I calmed down. If I wasn’t as broken as I knew I was, I wouldn't have left her house anytime soon.

Apparating in front of the Burrow wasn't the most difficult part, even though I didn't completely master the apparition. I changed my mind at least 10 times before I reached the door and another 5 times before I knocked.

The sky was completely black, but the storm clouds covered the view of the moon and stars, no sound from inside the house was made and so I tried again and waited patiently.

- Y/N… my dear, what are you doing here in the middle of the night? Come in, you must be cold - the red-haired woman was wearing a purple robe and the only change I noticed was her tired eyes and lacking the natural glow inside them.

- I'm sorry for suddenly appearing here Molly, I wanted to say goodbye - I spoke as soon as I entered the room, almost as cold as outside.

- Are you moving dear? You should have warned me before, I could have made you a farewell party - she guided me to the kitchen and I was sure I wouldn't leave without a cup of tea.

I tried to stay as calm as possible, but I couldn't convince my heart to do the same. The sofa, the dining table and even the stairs...

- RONALD WEASLEY COME HERE NOW - the irritated voice of the matriarch echoed across the walls of the house, giving goosebumps to those who were unused, that is, Harry and me.

- It's always like that? - I asked slightly intimidated to the boy with glasses next to me.

- You haven't seen anything yet - said Ron as he passed us on the stairs and went down to face his mother's anger over some mess he had made.

We were 12 years old and I couldn't say that we were close friends, who would be friends with the daughter of a murderous traitor? Why did they invite me? I didn't even remember.

- And where do you want to go? I've heard of several good places to live in the countryside - the smell of tea brought me to reality and then I noticed his gaze under me.

- Well, I'm going to spend some time in the United States - I replied with the confidence that still remained in my body, if it had been in another situation I would have found the expression of surprise on her face really amusing.

We stayed for a few seconds in silence drinking tea until she answered me a little more calmly.

- If you're sure, I can only tell you to take care and keep in touch. I understand that this adaptation period has not been easy for any of us. If that's what you need to heal yourself ... - her face fell a bit and I noticed right away.

- Do you want to hear about the place where I'm staying? - I asked with a small smile and little by little she got excited again.

As I did not want to bother her beyond the point I already was, after the tea we said goodbye with a hug still in the kitchen, when we arrived in the living room we hugged again and I had the same feeling as when I hugged Andromeda earlier. I never had a mother and after so long, it seems that I got two maternal figures who really cared about me.

- Don't forget to send me a lot of pictures, okay? - before I could answer, we both turned around as soon as we heard a noise on the stairs.

There was no one there and even if there was, it would be difficult to distinguish a silhouette in the middle of the darkness formed in that area, but for a few seconds I managed to see an unowned foot before it disappeared.

- I really need to go Molly, can you tell the others that I'll be in touch soon, please? - she confirmed with a smile and I left without giving a second look at that staircase.

Why was he spying and listening to the conversation? My life has been around the actions of Harry Potter for a long time, but it has been years since the direct contact was over, until now. Why now? Why do I have to remember him again? Why do I have to walk around being a shadow of what I once was?

- Can you sit down and talk to me? - His voice sounded irritated for no plausible reason.

- Oh sure, do you want me to sit and listen to all the reasons why you don’t love me anymore? Do you want to put more salt on the wound or what? - my usual sarcasm was multiplied by 1000, even though I knew that Harry hated that.

I didn't wait for an answer and immediately left his empty dormitory towards the Gryffindor common room, which by luck or a lot of planning on his part, was also empty.

- You know that I have strong feelings for you, but not as befor- can you grow a little at least once? - his steps came behind me and I felt his gaze piercing my back, until I couldn't take it anymore and I turned to look at him.

- You already made your point clear yesterday Harry, if you want to break up alright, but I will not be silent hearing about how you fell in love with another girl- and for the first time he did not answer me back - Yeah, do you really think that I wouldn't notice? I was the first to see it, believe it or not. My mistake was to close my eyes and pretend that everything was fine between us.

He found no words to answer me and I was too tired to hear anything else.

- I will return your things and you can feel free to do whatever you want to, our conversation is over.

Some women passed behind me in the bathroom, I knew what was going on in their heads, "what's wrong with her?" or "why is she crying?" but I didn't mind and kept looking straight into that foggy airport mirror.

As soon as the door slammed and I knew I was alone for a few minutes, I closed my eyes and then made a promise to myself.

- I'll be back and I won't even remember why I had to forget you in the first place.

Harry Potter Masterlist

[forasecondtherewedwon]

They’re Sayin’ (You’re Gonna Be My Man)

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2217

Summary: Sam calls Bucky too soon after he's left Louisiana, looking for advice he doesn’t really need and getting a conversation he didn’t really expect.

Sam’s supposed to wait until news of the Flag-Smashers’ movements comes down the line to get in touch with Bucky. He doesn’t. It’s sooner. It’s almost right away.

He’s sure Bucky’s gotta be out of the state, but he doesn’t know whether he’s made it back to this alleged apartment in Brooklyn (on some level, Sam’s aware that he keeps making jokes about the conspiracy of the apartment’s existence because it’s his way of daring Bucky to invite him over sometime). When he calls Bucky up, he knows he might catch him on a plane, in a cab, with a buzz of voices around him as he scowls at strangers in an airport or stomps down a sidewalk. But, other than Bucky’s voice on the other end, Sam just hears quiet, so he figures the guy made it home.

“You never told me if you had any tips,” Sam accuses straight off.

Shifting his feet, he tamps down more of the grass he’s been practicing on, squinting when sweat rolls into his eye. He just finished a brisk mile with the shield on his arm, getting used to the weight and the bulk of it, and he’s ready to start throwing again.

“Tips for what?” Bucky asks. “Fixing the boat? General life stuff? I know we had a good talk, but I think I take advice better than I give it.”

“Which is not saying much,” Sam points out with a laugh. “You suck at taking advice.”

“Until recently.”

“Until recently,” Sam allows. He takes a deep breath and leans over to the side, stretching from his run and tapping his hand on the Vibranium disc currently propped against his leg. “Nah, man, for the shield. How to throw it, how to catch it, how to pull off some of Steve’s fuckin’ boomerang tricks.”

“I thought you were gettin’ the hang of it,” Bucky says in his ear.

“I am. I just realized that, when I had you here, you did a lot of standing around and catching the shield on that cyborg arm of yours. Not a lot of active advice-giving.”

“You really want me telling you how to do your job?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, nobody said that. I am simply aware of the fact that you’re one of very few people alive who’ve handled this thing, and maybe the only one who did it with any actual competence.”

“The level of flattery is astounding,” Bucky says dryly.

“You want more, you gotta help me out,” Sam jokes back.

“Well, show me what you’re doin’.”

Sam glances around himself. Flat lawn. Waning daylight. Tall trees wrapped in the pads he’s been ricocheting the shield off of. No place good to prop his phone.

“I gotta get somebody to film me,” he realizes. “Lemme call you back.”

“Everybody’s gonna be filming you with the shield pretty soon. Only question is whether you’re doing something impressive in news footage or looking like a jackass in some kind of Avengers’ Greatest Fuckups reel.”

“Shut the hell up. I thought we were gettin’ along now.”

“Just trying to be motivational. Am I not doing it right?”

“I think you better look up the word ‘motivational’ in the dictionary while you wait for my call,” Sam suggests.

He disconnects and hangs his head, shaking it even as he smiles.

His legs are screaming for a thorough, post-workout stretch and maybe some ice on his shins—they’ve been taking the brunt every time he digs his feet into the ground and braces to snatch the returning shield from the air—but what’s another quarter mile? Sam runs to Sarah’s, arms pumping, stride a little different now that he has to accommodate the shape of the shield.

When he gets there, the boys are playing soccer on the lawn and he calls through the screen window to the kitchen to get his sister’s ok to borrow them as his training assistants. They get even more excited by the bestowing of this title and its implied responsibility than by the sight of the shield. That’s pretty incredible. Sarah caves to a temporary borrowing (supper’s almost ready) and they’re off.

On the way back, Sam lets AJ carry the shield. Seems like a nice break for himself until Cass requests a piggyback.

“Alright,” Sam agrees with a sigh, crouching in front of his nephew. “Hop on.”

Captain America’s benevolence is limitless. At least, it is this evening. When his back’s killing him tomorrow from absorbing the shock of a hundred shield throws, he will not be so easily persuaded into giving piggybacks.

In the clearing, Sam pulls his phone from the zipped pocket of his shorts and videocalls Bucky, who picks up on the first ring. His face is too close to the camera, but it’s good to see those blue eyes and the crinkles that are either there because he’s smiling in greeting or he’s confused about how a videocall works. In a few seconds, Bucky figures out for himself that he needs to hold the phone farther away. It makes Sam miss him. Also makes him a little worried because he can see the blank, white wall of Bucky’s apartment around his head. No paint, no art. Sam can’t even hear a TV or anything in the background.

“You’re not busy,” he observes.

“Not really, no,” Bucky admits.

“You coulda stayed here longer.”

“Nah, you needed time with everything, not me constantly looking over your shoulder. Shield’s yours now, Sam. I’m gonna be at your side, but you and the shield… I got no say in what that relationship is. I understand that now and I’m trying to respect it.”

“So when you’re actually doing the right thing, let you back off?”

“That’s right,” Bucky agrees.

“I’ll try to remember in case it ever happens again.”

Before Bucky can defend himself against Sam’s teasing jab, Sam passes the phone to AJ, camera turned so Bucky will still be focused on him when he starts throwing the shield again.

“Got you propped up on my human tripod,” he informs Bucky, reaching above the phone to playfully shove the side of AJ’s head. “So watch your mouth.”

“Can I say hi?”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Sam warns.

And, of course, Bucky eggs the kids into a long ooooh, like they’ve caught him breaking his own rule. Which they have. But Bucky was being a smartass and the opportunity to let him know is not something Sam likes to pass up.

He’s stretching now—maybe for himself, maybe for the camera pointed his way—gripping his ankles in turn and holding his heels to his ass until he feels the pull in his thighs. Bucky’s not wrong about having this time to himself. Just him and this legendary object that’s feeling more right on his arm every time he slips it through the straps. Still, he misses what they had going the last two days. Not him and the shield, but him and Bucky. Having him here like that… It was different from every other experience Sam’s had with him. Bucky was still, in turns, a grouch and a showoff and a staring machine and a shithead (flirting with Sarah, come ON), but he was also more convincingly a person than Sam’s had the pleasure of seeing him before. At ease and multi-faceted by nature instead of the necessity of adapting in the face of a threat.

Bucky smiled.

They didn’t always bicker.

He looked damn good in the morning when they leaned against the kitchen counter, not talking, sipping their coffee.

Sam wants those minutes back so bad. Living with Bucky here was incomparable to living with him overseas. Lotta reasons for that, including not having to share the space with Baron Zemo. Mostly because this is home and Sam liked pretending, while Sarah did some well-deserved sleeping in and the boys got the hems of their pajama pants wet in the dew in the backyard, that it was real. That this breath between their fights (no longer with each other) could last and that this is where they’d hold it. It could be their kitchen, their mugs, their tousled sheets Bucky’d climbed out of, looking all rumpled and lovely and shit.

But Bucky doesn’t know what Sam pretends and Sam sure as hell isn’t going to tell him. He’s just going to keep faithful to their usual dynamic, trying for less glaring. Not a word to unsettle things, as much as he’s curious how they might handle things being unsettled. As much as his mind plays back the blinding glint off the water as they rolled up their sleeves and went to work together in a way more meaningful, more personal, than they ever have before. Plays it back all the time.

No. Quiet. Sam needs to figure himself out first and knows Bucky’s working on doing the same. Maybe sometime—but probably never—they can see how those selves overlap. All they need to make fly right now is being Captain America and… what’d that moron call himself? The White Wolf? Son of a biscuit…

“Let me see him!” Cass says excitedly, recapturing Sam’s focus.

It’s his brother he’s talking to and Sam watches fondly as AJ turns the phone to show Bucky a grinning Cass, being careful to keep it steady. Pretty damn sweet. Cass even waves while Sam stands there, watching and doing shoulder rolls.

“Hi, Uncle Bucky!”

Sam feels like he just whipped the shield out and caught the return in his stomach. He strides over to the boys and AJ passes the phone back without being asked. He’s stifling giggles despite or because he senses that his little brother shouldn’t have said that.

“One minute,” Sam tells Bucky, hardly glancing at him because he just can’t. He tilts the camera towards the ground and raises expectant eyebrows at his grinning nephews. “Did somebody tell you to call him that?”

In unison, the boys go, “No, Uncle Sam,” which is suspiciously adorable. But they aren’t liars.

“Did you hear somebody call him that?”

AJ and Cass glance at each other and that’s enough for Sam. They won’t answer, so he knows it’s Sarah who’s made this joke, put this idea in the kids’ heads. They won’t give her up though, because they’re Wilsons and they’re loyal to their mother.

Sam turns the camera back on himself, unprepared for the upward tick at the corner of Bucky’s lips that make them even harder to look away from than usual.

“My sister must’ve—”

“I know,” Bucky interrupts.

“You know?”

“Yeah. Sarah called me that to my face.”

“She did what?”

Sarah having her joke is one thing, but saying it to Bucky takes things a little far, in Sam’s opinion. Bucky could think Sarah’s serious. He could think she’s saying that because Sam’s said something to her. Something about coffee and bedsheets and the sweet ache he felt in his chest when he saw Bucky’s smile in the golden light of dawn.

“Last night, before she put the boys to bed. You were in the shower, I think.” Bucky reaches up absentmindedly to run a hand over the top of his head; the flex of his bicep in the long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing and waiting for the end of this recollection are both torture for Sam. “They wanted to hang out with me, but Sarah said, ‘Uncle Bucky’s gotta get some sleep. You’ll see him tomorrow.’ Something like that.”

Now, when Sam’s truly learning the meaning of flabbergasted, Bucky’s mouth cracks into a wide, self-satisfied smile.

“You made that up,” Sam guesses helplessly.

“Nope.”

Sam knows that, with his nephews’ inability to lie and Sarah’s lifelong history of messing with him as evidence, but it would’ve been a convenient escape from the reality of his sister (and possibly the boys too) addressing Bucky as if he and Sam are together.

“Tell me you told my sister to drop the ‘Uncle.’”

Another thing Sam knows: that Bucky didn’t do that. Bucky seems happy to prove his fears correct; he shrugs.

“Sounded kinda nice,” Bucky defends. That makes Sam soften. He knows Bucky doesn’t have any living family, that he’s been struggling to allow himself to make friends. Maybe he just likes being told he belongs to them and that Sarah’s joke makes it effortless for him. Then, Bucky adds, “Pass me back to my nephews.”

Sam points a warning finger at him.

“Watch it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The crease between Bucky’s eyebrows deepens as Sam watches the pain in the ass pretend to be stern with him. “Just throw the damn shield. I thought you asked for my help.”

“I did.”

Releasing a cautious sigh, Sam hands the phone to AJ once more. The boy’s got his silliness under control and he accepts the job solemnly.

Sam’s two steps away, hefting the shield onto his arm, when he hears Bucky shout, “And my hand in marriage!”

The boys’ laughter has them rolling on the cool grass, the phone clutched in AJ’s grip, and by the time Sam wrestles it away from his nephew, the camera’s swung all over the place. Showing Bucky the sky, the dirt, some quality footage up AJ’s nose, and probably—almost definitely—the way his words made Sam smile.

[sheeswee]

Very long character analysis/headcanons on the kidnap fam + Maglor & Maedhros’ dealings with trauma ahead ^_^

Maglor is more fair tempered and less quick to react than Maedhros, so I feel like the way his trauma would effect him is never talked about... he’s always just “the sane one” but he went through the same stuff as Maedhros (minus some torture and loss of a lover) but he has the same terrible experiences as him and we should talk more about that.

When they adopted (kidnapped) the twins they had just lost their own twin brothers, the last two besides themselves. They were now the only ones left in Fëanor’s line besides Celebrimbor and were completely alone in the world, without allies or hope.

Yes, Maglor didn’t inherit his father’s temperament, but he still murdered, he still fought, he still swore the oath.

I imagine Maglor’s issues are more unpredictable, and that he probably has very intense ups and downs. Most of the time he’s just Maglor. Somewhat serious and practical, but also good with the kids and a bit overprotective and fussy. After all, he was an older brother, too. It wasn’t only Maedhros who looked after and was responsible for the sons of Fëanor.

But sometimes he would break. He would get that look in his eyes and wander off. If you followed you’d hear him rambling, talking to someone not there, or crying, or both.

Sometimes while holding one of the kids in his lap he would go into a trance, playing with their hair for hours, refusing to let them go and not acknowledging a word said to him.

Sometimes they look for Maglor and find him in a trance, eyes fixed on nothing, plucking sharp chords on his harp. They leave his dinner beside him and tell him to eat before it’s cold.

Maedhros is different. Maedhros has days where he is jumpy, and any touch makes him flinch hard, hand on the hilt of his sword, eyes blazing and furious and terrified. Maedhros never appears scared in any situation, not battle nor weather nor sickness... except of an unexpected touch, or a raised hand. He always apologizes profusely, it’s a knee jerk reaction for him.

Sometimes, when he sleeps, which he doesn’t do as often as he should, he murmurs nonsense, twitching and breathing fast, pale as a ghost. Whenever he wakes from a nightmare he is especially jumpy, and often irritable for the day. He does not mean to lash out, and he always says he is sorry, but the words are just noise. He is not himself those days.

Sometimes, Maedhros and Maglor fight. It’s never loud, no yelling or getting physical, but sharp angry words at night when they think the kids are asleep. They try not to make it obvious when they aren’t speaking, but Elrond and Elros learn to read them easily.

But sometimes, Maedhros and Maglor speak so warmly and fondly of people and places in a language long dead, the kids can almost see who they were before. Under scars and lines of weariness and horror unimagined, there were once two young and joyful elven princes, who’s worries were simple of raising brothers, impressing fathers and strengthening alliances with friends rather than enemies.

Despite it all, the kids love them dearly. It’s not always like this, and they’re usually somewhat of a functional kidnap family. They learn to adapt, and become expert empaths after learning all the signs of when someone is having a bad day, or when to be cautious of raising their hand or their voice.

It does not change how they feel towards Maedhros and Maglor in the slightest. To Elros and Elrond, it is just a part of living with them they do not love them despite it, they love them for it. Because it is Maedhros who holds them on cold nights and tells them of valinor, and Maglor who teaches them the stars.

They are a family, in some ways, at least.

...

This is a spin off thought from all that, but I imagine Maedhros at first tries to keep a distance between himself and the kids. He doesn’t want these two innocents to be associated with kinslaying fëanorians. To Maedhros, the best option is to make sure the kids continue to hate and fear him, to maintain the hostage and captor role. That way, when they get returned to someone who can actually raise them, nobody will blame them for being around two notoriously hated and despicable exiles.

This, of course, does not work. Maedhros grows to love the kids immensely, and though he won’t say it aloud, they are the reason he is alive besides the oath. They are the reason why he keeps fighting to lift the curse of his kin. If he can just free himself and Maglor, and protect these kids... because in them, he sees his dead brothers, who he couldn’t save. Who he couldn’t free. Who he couldn’t protect no matter what he did. How many hundreds, thousands of years of war did he fight and sacrifice and amend and break just to keep his family alive, and to no avail? How many times did he play the good guy and destroy his reputation to save his brothers? And every time it was ruined. Every time it ended worse than it began. No amount of time would release him from their oath. It would have to he fulfilled. 

And for a while, they ignored it. He and Maglor turned a blind eye to their binds while raising the kids. They knew the consequences of ignoring it would be severe, but at this point why even try to be the good guys anymore? All that had done was spit in their faces.

After a long while, when the silmarils were recovered and stored away, Maedhros convinced Maglor to go with him and steal them back. To give the kids to someone who would protect them and didn’t have a ticking bomb attached to them, ready to go off at any time.

Maedhros knew now that if they could bear through it a little longer- do this the hard way but get it over with, reclaim the silmarils and lift the curse- they would finally be free. It would be over.

But it wasn’t.

When they stole them, bore them away, and held them at last in their hands it burned their flesh unbearably. They had been deemed evil and unworthy by the Valar. What greater betrayal than to be told by the gods they would be broken to the death unless their oath fulfilled, and then told once fulfilled that in doing so they were no longer saveable?

Everything, every word spoken, battle fought, blade bloodied, brother lost, war waged and step taken, was in vain. Every single action Maedhros had every taken, in hopes of saving his family. In hopes of maybe saving himself, was for nothing.

[coldshrugs]

thank you for this blessed template, @possumsunshine. this was so fun and cute, i couldn't resist after seeing it on my dash 💗

pulled a couple of answers from oc asks i've done recently because oof this got long.

QUICK READ OF YOUR DETECTIVE

Name: alma greene

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: bisexual

Love interest: mason

Best friend: felix but also nate

Main skill: science/tech

Secondary skill: people/psychology

Main personality trait: tied for impulsive and sarcastic

Secondary personality trait: stubborn

Why did they join the Wayhaven PD?: she’s not a detective, but science skills

Relationship with Rebecca: very close, even with absences, but waning

Relationship with Bobby: college friend, currently hates him

Verda or Tina?: both

Murphy bite?: wrist

Murphy’s fate?: at large, babyyy

Rescue LI or Rescue Sanja?: sanja

GENERAL

Name: alma eloise greene

Nickname: sweetheart/space girl by mason; sweetie by rebecca

Birthday: june 12th

Age: 29

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: bisexual (demiromantic??)

Hair color: dark brown

Eye color: dark brown, nearly black

Height: 5’1”

Piercings: ears, former nostril piercings

Tattoos: a small snail on her right arm, super cartoony spaceship and tractor beam over the words “i want to believe” on the back of her left calf

Clothing Style: “modern” i guess, according to the game. tbh i usually describe it as “too old to be an e-girl but too cute to care.” bleached denim, dark plaid, graphic crop tops, black vans or converse, thigh-high tights, etc etc

Apartment Style: cozy. did she find it on the side of the road or goodwill or an estate sale? if not, it’s probably not in her apartment.

STATS

Personality:

Charming | Intimidating

Impulsive | Cautious

Sarcastic | Genuine

Friendly | Stoic

Easygoing | Stubborn

Traits:

Heart | Mind

Optimist | Pessimist

Team Player | Independent

Skills:

Main Skill: science/tech

Second Skill: people/psychology

By the Book | Bend the Rules

KEY DECISIONS

Reason for joining the Wayhaven PD: alma is wayhaven’s only forensic analyst because i refuse to let my black oc be a cop

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ in-game, she’s 100% there for her scientific prowess.

Murphy bite: Wrist | Neck | None

Murphy’s Fate: Captured | Escaped

Rescued: Love Interest | Sanja

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP

Love Interest: mason

Why them?: on a meta level: oh no he’s hot

but alma’s reasoning is that he’s very upfront about what he wants in the beginning and she’s never been pursued in such a way. It’s a bit of a rush and an ego boost for her at first. but mason’s loyalty very quickly becomes the steadiness alma’s been missing for most of her life and she latches on to that. she’s not had someone so dependable around in… well, ever. and her physical attraction becomes emotional VERY quickly.

Bold, shy, or mixed?: shy until they sleep together, then a mix of bold and genuine afterward.

What were their first impressions of each other?:

alma on mason: thought he was super attractive but that was quickly pushed aside by “holy shit, this guy’s an ass.” she thinks he’s an uncooperative jerk that only cares about himself for quite a while, honestly. she asks him along for things she wants to do alone precisely because she thinks he’ll be the most likely to just stay out of her way. she’s surprised by his attitudes and opinions, and her incorrect assumptions about them, during those times.

mason on alma: would never, ever, ever admit that his first thought upon meeting Alma was simply “cute.” he quickly found parts of her to assess individually. those first few days were mostly spent appraising her physical attributes and watching her back when she needed it. mason did find her funny right away, but he wasn’t willing to trust someone new, regardless of that person being their handler’s daughter or not.

What do they find attractive about each other, mentally or physically?:

alma on mason: his eyes, freckles, and every single version of his smile. his decisiveness, differentially, and willingness to stab as a warning.

mason on alma: her hair tbh, there’s just… a lot of it. her hips, her eyelashes. He also likes her adaptability, sense of humor, and the warmth she gives with no expectation of reciprocation.

What do they do to spend time together?: lots of stargazing, lots of watching tv very quietly and making fun of the storylines they don’t understand until they get bored and make out instead, walking around the quieter parts of wayhaven or taking late-night drives.

What is their favorite memory together?: i like to think mason finds the carnival photo of them after the place has been sacked and gives it to alma sometime later. both the taking of the photo and the giving of it are very fond memories for both of them.

What are their love languages?: touch, quality time.

How do they handle being apart from one another?: badly. mason absolutely hates it after a time. if alma’s out of town, he’s in her apartment with the excuse of feeding her cat, but it’s 100% just to sleep in her bed and be around all the things that make her, her. alma does a little better. she’s used to having folks sort of come and go and come again, but she gets almost hyper-insecure?? it’s nothing she’d admit openly, but she’s second-guessing herself in totally unrelated aspects of her life until they’re reunited.

Do they argue? How do they handle arguments and disagreements? How do they make up?: they don’t necessarily argue, but they disagree with the intent to problem solve. alma is pretty flexible and as long as she can understand why someone might feel the way they feel, she’s willing to hear them out or go along with their plan. if an argument does get out of hand, they need space from it for a while. they each have places to retreat for those times, and they wait for the “hey” text to come through to know it’s time to talk about it.

What does their future look like?: alma becomes a vampire two years into their relationship. they move into a quiet, old house on the edge of town until the whole team moves elsewhere. mason has to get used to having a cat because october has several years left in him. they don’t get married, but they’re inseparable.

Anything else you’d like to share: in the time before alma turns, mason learns to perfect making grilled cheese because it’s what alma craves when she’s not feeling well. He makes the grilled cheese then he immediately showers to get the smell off him but he makes it regardless.

BEST FRIEND RELATIONSHIP

Best friend: depending on the playthrough it swaps between felix and nate, but felix feels more in character

Why them?: alma loves felix’s sense of adventure and nosiness. Most of all she loves that he won’t judge her for pulling the same shit every now and then.

What were their first impressions of each other?: alma was super thrown off by that hand kiss. “who the fuck is this mischief-maker?” while nate was very kind and warm, felix (surprisingly) was the UB teammate that really humanized the rest of the team for alma. he’s fun and genuine and wants everyone else to be happy together. felix was incredibly interested to learn more about alma, as a human, as his boss’s daughter, and then as a friend when she readily accepted the supernatural and, by extension, him as a vampire. The fact that she’s easily flustered or surprised really works in his favor because he lives for being the most shocking person in the room.

What do they do to spend time together?: they share music, they dance, and they text A LOT. lots of memes, lots of “what does [x] mean?” “oh nice” “[proceeds to use the thing they just learned incorrectly]”. they also compare and share hair products.

Anything else you’d like to share: they each have a tamagotchi named after the other (baby felix and baby alma) and they compete to see who can keep theirs alive the longest. everyone loses.

OTHER RELATIONSHIPS (Feel free to go in-depth!)

Relationship with Rebecca: oof okay. alma seeks rebecca’s approval and depends on her for a sense of safety and “stability.” in some ways, she wants to be exactly like her mom: strong, independent, unbothered, worldly. but a lot of that shatters the longer alma works professionally with rebecca and with the revelations surrounding rook. alma sees how much rebecca uses her as a crutch, projects her perceived failures onto alma’s life, and over-shelters her.

Relationship with Rook: alma doesn’t remember him and tries not to think of him often or fondly or at all BUT she has so many of his things. his flannels, his detective badge, his ancient comic book collection (which is the only reason she has her own). she has his eyes and his impulsive streak, his care for people of all varieties. she IS rook’s daughter and she ignores that fact so it doesn’t hurt her.

Relationship with Bobby: they used to be very close, slightly flirty friends but there’s no way in hell alma can trust him now. (i originally had bobby as alma’s ex but it was all getting a little too Bella Swan for me. like bobby, douglas, the werewolves, falk, and mason like????? it was a bit much so bobby’s just an old ex-friend)

Relationship with Verda: alma fucking loves verda. that’s her mentor, that’s her dad friend. she feels a sense of Pride and Accomplishment when she can make verda laugh or impress him in the lab, or both. alma’s fond of spending evenings over his place with eric and the kids, making dinner, or just hanging out.

Relationship with Tina: tina was alma’s first friend as a kid. they lost touch in high school because tina was bubbly and cute and popular, while alma was… not. but the summer before they left for college they ran into each other at a house party and since that reconnection, they’ve been thick as thieves. it was like nothing had changed. tina is a light in alma’s life, and alma lets tina lean into the stranger parts of herself without judgment.

Relationship with the Mayor: thinks he’s a creep and a bad parent.

Relationship with Capt. Sung: appreciates how he prioritizes the town and its people, but thinks he could loosen up a bit.

Relationship with Haley: haley is a couple of years older than alma but they’ve known each other forever. alma admires haley’s work ethic and cheery attitude.

Relationship with Elidor: oh man, alma is absolutely stunned by elidor. he’s beautiful, kind, and knowledgeable. in those early days, elidor is responsible for quite a bit of her supernatural education. alma grills him while he nurses her back to health. her curiosity is refreshing to him.

Relationship with Tapeesa/Vieno: alma thinks vieno is cute and funny, says hi when she sees them around, but they’re not best friends or anything. she can’t shake the thought that they’re basically a fae version of danny devito.

Relationship with Unit Alpha: absolutely smitten with lesedi. she’s never seen a more beautiful woman. tamiko ends up being a pretty good friend. the twins are on her social periphery but alma’s not close with them.

Relationship with the Maa-alused: alma sincerely wants to help them adjust to life in this world and takes that goal very seriously. at the same time she really really wishes falk hadn’t developed this weird attachment to her.

Do they have any other important relationships, past or present? (Relatives, friends, etc.?): YES. i’ve thrown another oc in wayhaven for the express purpose of being The Detective. His name is javi. alma met him in college and they were fast friends. alma convinced him to try out wayhaven after graduation. They lived together for a while and now they, along with tina, can often be seen in the corner booth of chen’s pub.

she was also very close with her maternal grandmother before she died. she was raised by her while rebecca was absent, but i need to develop this more.

her cat, october, whom she’s had for five years. he’s a sweet, mostly black tortie that can hardly meow. alma adopted him as an adult when she got her own place.

PERSONAL BIO

Describe their personality: alma is so open and ready to accept new possibilities. she’s the sort of person that embraces what scares her, finds beauty in it, and loves it intensely. she’s sharp and resourceful. i wouldn’t exactly describe her as hard-working, but she’s knowledgeable about her field and tries to be helpful when she has a goal in mind.

she’s quite tactile. touchy with other people. likes to use her hands for work or hobbies. she doesn’t really mind being alone for long stretches of time but would prefer not to be. she wants others to want to be around her.

she’s also terrible at being honest about her trauma. everything is fine, she’s fine, she doesn’t need to talk about this :) :) :) she will handle the breakdown when it happens and not one second before. also, with quick wit comes uncontrollable sarcasm and it does not always hit well.

Strengths: the only person in unit bravo that knows how to use google

Weaknesses: squishy

Where in the world is their Wayhaven?: super torn here because wayhaven feels inland to me, but i think i’ve finally settled on the north carolina coast but not like the outer banks area. If not there, then maybe virginia, closer to the chesapeake bay.

What is their personal history?: alma is born to rook and rebecca in wayhaven. spends her childhood being raised mostly by her grandmother, idolizes rebecca. academic success comes easily for her; a heavy interest in science leads to a scholarship at a university just far away enough to feel like she’s Leaving The Nest. alma dates a bit in college but she’s the type to end up becoming friends with everyone she sleeps with and romance is difficult for her to cultivate. when she does date, the relationships are short-lived. she returns to wayhaven after school and puts her degree to work in wayhaven’s police department. she wishes she’d applied for a position in the city but craves the comfort (and tbh, the low stakes) of home.

If they weren’t a detective, what would their dream job be?: she’s a forensic analyst and honestly?? it’s a pretty dreamy job for her. she loves being a scientist, loves helping people, and isn’t easily grossed out.

Anything else you’d like to share: has tried to stay overnight in an ikea. did not succeed.

RANDOM FACTS

Zodiac sign: gemini

Hobbies: reading peer-reviewed journals, watching terrible sci-fi, collecting comic books and mugs, thrift shopping

Likes: good hair days, denim jackets, vanilla candles, halloween, unflavored lipbalm, driving at night, that warm “surrounded by love” feeling, snails, fuzzy socks

Dislikes: the lights while driving at night, winter, dry skin, minimalist decor, smudged glasses, being overwhelmed with choices

Drink of choice: white wine usually, white russians if she’s out at chen’s, or shots of jaeger if she’s feeling trashy

Starbucks order: grande flat white with 3 pumps of toffee nut syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon

Favorite food: a simple, fresh spaghetti pomodoro OR lemon meringue pie

Favorite color: golden mustard yellow

Favorite music: she loves just about everything and it’s heavily dependant on her mood. (this is actually really difficult to think about without feeling like i'm giving her my exact taste in music but here's a little playlist that fits her vibe)

Favorite genre (and favorite movie/book/etc): science fiction or psychological thrillers, but her favorite movie is oliver and company.

Favorite season: fall

Anything else you’d like to share: has a stupid amount of blankets stashed around her apartment. she really does not like being cold.

[popculturebuffet]

Carl Barks: Back to the Klondike Review: Blinkus of the Thinkus

Welcome one and all! If your a longtime reader of this blog, you know I love a good birthday celebration, having started with my first year reviewing animation last year with Donald’s and deciding to do Mickey and Scrooge’s later that year. But since I misseda  LOT of disney birthdays, and found several Non-disney birthdays and anniversaries I just gotta celebrate, this year i’m making it up and style and have a whole calender set up to tack these big milestones to the wall. So over the year expect tributes to the greats of disney, looney tunes, and mgm both behind and in front of the scenes, as well as to various shows I like. It’s gonna be a good time. 

So to start us off, it’s only fitting my first duck birthday since Scrooge, is for the love of his life and the stealer of his wallet, Glittering Goldie O Gilt! And I felt the best way to celebrate this storied day was to go back to her very FIRST apperance, one of earliest Scrooge headlined comics and a forever fan faviorite, Back to the Klondike!

But before we get into that, a little history on our gal in gold. Goldie was created for this story by comics god, the late great Carl Barks. Barks ended up just using her once, which is a shame but understandable as he probably only thought of her for that one adventure. While some characters like Gyro ended up being used again and again he probably just didn’t have any more stories in mind for her and figured Scrooge would return to her one day or he wouldn’t, but it wasn’t up to him.  Fans however loved the character, her feisty dynamic with scrooge, and the fact she brought out his good side, so naturally other writers would bring her back. In paticular Barks Superfan Don Rosa cemented her as the love of his life and wrote several more stories with her, fleshing out their backstory and saying that at least in his personal canon, Scrooge retired to spend his final years with her. And while his fanboy was clearly showing, and that can end nasitly just ask Dan “Hates Wally West because he’s not barry allen” DiDio, glad he’s gone.. Rosa’s work with goldie is an example of what happens when it’s done right. Less DiDio or Bendis and more Al Ewing. Using the continuity and what’s there to build on a character who deserved better.. to me that’s one of the BEST things you can do in comics and Rosa’s work is proof of that, ironing out the.. questionable elements we’ll get to and leaving the gold in.  So Rosa’s work combined with Ducktales not only adapting this story but bringing Goldie back a few times after that has elevated the character to a storied and permenat part of the duck canon, with her excellent heavily revamped Reboot counterpart currently carrying the torch with the help of the wonderful Allison Janey, perfect casting there. So with a legacy of gold behind her, let’s take a look at where it’s started and see if it still glitters after all these years under the cut. 

We begin our story at the Money Bin. Scrooge has been counting his money.. but has already forgotten, and forgot where he put the slip he wrote the number on and even forgets who Donald is when he shows up until Donald, while having some fun with him as Scrooge is trying to phone him while he’s right there. As for how he got into the most secure place in the bin.. the story actually answers that both worringly and hilariously: Scrooge left the door unlocked.  Naturally he’s not happy about this and Donald states the simple solution: Go see a doctor something’s CLEARLY very wrong, and the fact this could possibly be something like Demntia is VERY bad for someone who runs a zillion dollar company. Scrooge of course scoffs at “wasting his precious money” But Donald not only points out the obvious, that two bucks now saves him from having someone rob EVERYTHING, but Scrooge’s attempt to tie a string around his finger.. instead triggers a trap. And this entire sequence is decent with some good gags.. it’s just hampered a bit by making light of something that’s kinda bad. Not old people forgetting things.. but an old person with a disease as we find out forgetting things. Not helping is I laughed at first at the gags.. till I remembered a kind, old, friend of the family who had it and forgot me entirely by the end. So yeah, not the worst gags and the boxing glove and donald bits aren’t terrible, but it hurts now my brain’s made that connection. 

Our heroes head to the doctor’s office where Scrooge is diagnosed with... 

That.. might be the best name for a fictional illness i’ve ever heard in my life.. just inching out “Brain Cloud” and “Whale Cancer”. Still not the most SENSITIVE gag.. but it was the 50′s and mental issues weren’t given a lot of respect. IT’s why the above sequence and this whole part of the plot dosen’t scuttle things: It’s not the most repsectful.. but it wasn’t a time where these things were givne proper respect, treatment or knowledge, so barks wasn’t being an insentive douche on purpose, he just didn’t know. It dosen’t make it 100% okay btu it dosen’t wreck the story like say his blatant racist caractures in Voodoo Hoodoo. Seriously that’s.. not okay, and given he’s the kind of guy who researched locations he used, unlike with mental illness i expect BETTER of him than most men at the time. Still respect the guy, but it dosen’t mean i’ll overlook the fact he made some pretty bad mistakes. Same way while I love and miss Stan Lee I won’t ignore his blatant sexisim or racisim towards Chinese and Vitamise people. You CAN like a creator even if their work has some questionable and unjustifable elements, times do change and people do mamke mistakes when their young. It just depends on exactly WHAT they did or wrote that makes that distinctoin.  So on that bombshell, Scrooge is given medication after a needle gag. He needs to take his pills every 12 hours. It’s then he starts to remember something, mubling abotu skagway, goldie and dawson and telling Donald to get the boys, their going to Alaska! Once they get on the boat Scrooge explains: he remembered thanks to the medcince he left a stash of gold nuggets there from his prospecting days.. and part of why this story ended up being one of the single most important to Scrooge’s character. While it establishes some character traits, something I dind’t realize till wikipedia pointed it out, it also establishes Scrooge’s days as a prospector. While other things made him what he was and got him to that point as Don Rosa would later flesh out, it was his days in the yukon that, for better or worse defined who he is now and shaped him into the man he is today: Tough, fair, badass as all hell, mean as the devil and richer than god.  This time would be used a lot to set up stories, which made sense as it was the cleast and most agreed upon part of his past by all writers, and him at his abosltuely peak physically and mentally and the gold rush motif of the time perfectly fits someone defined by being rich. It’s also honestly nice that the Yukon is used, as Canada sometimes gets lost in the shuffle wise and hell until reading life and times I gneuinely had no idea what the Yukon was or where Calvin was headed when he and hobbes ran away from home. 

Scrooge also first mentions Goldie and while clearly remembering her fondly.. goes into a rant about her howing him a thousand dollars which has compounded to a billion the second the boys catch on he was sweet on her with Donald assuming he’s just not a good person. But this is really just setting up another vital part of his character and the other thing: his heart. Before he’d been show as a pretty heartless, greedy asshole. While the previous story, Only a Poor Old Man, had softened him up a bit, this is the first to show that beneath the pile of greed and mean lurks a decent human being. Just don’t tell anyone or he’ll throw his money at you.. then tell you to bring it back to him. It’s what makes the character who he is: he’s cruel, onrey and selfish.. but he CAN care when the chips are down and can do the right thing.. as we’ll see later. 

God I love the little poems Bill Watterson would put in the books. I didn’t as much as a kid, but god I do now. Anyways before our heroes can get going Yukon Ho, they stop in Skagway for suplies before heading out, Scrooge softing at taking a plane as “Soft” and him and the nephews hiking a week.. before running into the same flying service again, and finding out Scrooge OWNS it and forgot, because being scrooge he forgot to take his meds. Something I can relate to and i’m not proud of as staying on them is important to my well being. Seriously always take your meds. Unless their not working for you then talk with your doctor to get new ones. 

So we arrive in Dawson, as our heroes will have to walk rest of the day Scrooge takes the boys to the Black Jack Ballroom, which used to be a hot spot and was where he met Goldie for the first time. After another covering for his reminscing with greedy bollocks, he tells the boys the story.. one that was cut from the original printing despite introducing goldie and something the editors dind’t bother to tell carl till they berated him over trying to sneak a blackjack saloon and a kidnapping in there... and to them, or their long dead skeletons probably, I say. 

Yeah not wanting that in a kids story, while bollocks, tha’ts their perogative.. not having him send in replacement pages to keep story flow.. is dickish and underestimates kids intellegence as Don Rosa, while loving the story felt something was off till he saw the missing pages years later thanks to a fellow fan. So yeah kids, and adults, into the work noticed. Nice job. Again I can’t BLAME them for not wanting Scrooge to be a kidnapper as we’ll see and Don Rosa had to massage the hell out of that, but I can blame them for not caring enough to fix the obvious hole int he story. Though it’s now complete and unabriged and has been since the 80′s so there's that. 

So in a nutshell Scrooge came to town for a coffee, and while the bartender ignored him he didn’t once he plunked down his goose egg nugget, what made his fortune and one of Scrooge’s most treasured possessions. It’s here we meet Goldie. 

Yup.. just in case you thought her being a thief and greedy as hell was a new thing, and I kinda forgot how much, she dirves for the nugget, has Coffee with scrooge.. and drugs it, but makes the mistake of NOT clearing town, so Scrooge fights his way through the ballroom to her, gets the nugget back, forces her to sign the money for the iou he spent.. and then uh.. kindaps her to force her to work on his claim for 50 cents to try and teach her how to work honestly. 

Yeahhhh as I said Don Rosa tried his best to fix this , and did so in his final story, which we’ll get to some day, revealing Goldie had a shot gun on her the whole time and was going along entirely to find out where Scrooge’s claim was. That.. actually makes more sense with the character and is far less horrifying and Scrooge finds this out fairly quick, so them forming an attraction out of this becomes 100% more plausable. So yeah good on Don Rosa for fixing the implications here. I may give out on him from time to time.. but he is a genuinely talented writer and did what a good comic book writer in an established continuity should do: update elements so they aren’t so... eugguuhhh after they become horrifingly outdated. And look YES she did do horrible shit to him.. but you still can’t kidnap someone over that. just put her in jail. What was any of that. 

Anyways Scrooge HAS been taking his medicine, and proves it by showing the boys his pills and the next day they head to Scrooge’s old claim.. only someone’s living there and using it, and his old cabin.. and a shot gun. Yeah so they aren’t getting through in the day what about the night.. well they get attacked by Blackjack, who turns out to be owned by the claim jumper.. and is also you know a bear> And Donald left his back in new quackmore so their outmatched. 

So outgunned and outplanned, if not outnumbered or outmanned, our heroes make a camp fire and whiel Donald again suggests the obvious, call the police.. Scrooge can’t. He didn’t pay taxes on the claim so he’s technically jumping his own claim and techincally she has a right to it. So techncially.. Scrooge is the bad guy here as he left the money here, didn’t pay his taxes and didn’t ever come back for it. Still beats trying to terrify your nephews or deny orphans a train because your an asshole buffet. 

So the next morning Scrooge dosen’t want to rush her because “We Daren’t Get Rough with an old woman”. Two things.. 1... think before you put images in my head scrooge.. brrrrrrrrr. I mean Goldie. is not in the best shape in thie story as you’ll see and neither are you. In the reboot sure you two kept up a lot better but here.

And it’s not even an old people thing. Ann Margret was still fine so fine by the time of Grumpy Old Men, not to get creepy jut to prove i’m not being ageist. For a still alive example Keith David is also still a smokeshow at the tender age of 64. So yeah, not an age thing just not these paticular old people. 

But they need a plan so the boy suggest luring the bear into a trap with honey. Donald and Scrooge build the cage while the boys.. find the jar of honey. 

Regardless since the boys won’t do it for what Scrooge pays and neither will donald Scrooge goes to lure the bear with the honey. Once that’s done, and Scrooge is being covered with honey and licked by a bear...

So while he washes that off, the boys come up with another plan: they run around back while Donald makes noise to draw Goldie’s fire, with that being Dewey’s plan to meet her since he’s figured this out already. But Goldie has a backup plan and when she figures out they disabled Blackjack unleashes mosquitos... ugh. Having been stung like hornets about 50 times in animal crossing I feel you boys. So while Scrooge and Donald run off naked... troy if you will. 

Thank you Troy, the boys confront Goldie who reveals her identity... and that she’s broke, her dance hall having failed with the rush and this claim being all she has.. and her suspecting scrooge woudl gladly take it. The boys vow not to tell scrooge.. but he’s on his way so they kinda have to and he primps to go visit and Donald starts to see through his BS about collecting the debt. Sure enough despite being taken aback by her putting on her old dress , he takes her for all she has and is.. genuinely suprised as she thought she’d have more and she’d actually changed since the old days, donating her profits to orphans from mining disasters. Scrooge.. is clearly rattled by this. Whiel it turns out to my shock he was clealry after the money, though givne who we’re dealing with I shoudln’t of been really, he still cares and still realizes he’s being kind of a dick. So he challengers her to a gold digging race, and if she wins the claim is hers and any gold she finds.. and naturally, while he seemingly puts her soemwhere where there isn’t she finds the claim and Scrooge bemoans not taking his pill.. but while the boys boo him for it, Goldie who fondly waves them off and Donald know better: Donald points out he counted the pills this morning.. and recently. SCrooge DID take one today... he’s just has his cane shoved firmly up his ass with pride so he coudln’t ADMIT he was wrong and instead simply staged that whole thing with the full knowledge Goldie would win. It, again, sets up one of his defniing traits; how he keeps people at arms length. How he’s just so proud and full of himself he can’t bear to admit anything resembling weakness.. but WILl find a way to do the right thing without that or forgoe it as a last resort. He may project being a stingy cretionus old man.. because he is.. but he’s got a heart as big as that nugget.. it’s just locked tight in it’s own bin... his body is complicated and weird that way Final Thoughts:

This story is a classic with a decent setup, great backstory for scrooge, and a great guest character and unquestionable impact on the character. However.. it does have it’s problem; As Don Rosa, who as i’ll remind you is both a huge barks fanboy and huge scoldie shipper, himself pointed out he wrote his final story, and had planned to for years ENTIRELY because this one never quite explains how Scrooge and Goldie went from old enmies to lovers.It did lead to one of his best stories and one of the first I read post life and times so, props to that. And of course as I pointed out some things have just.. not aged well, especially the kidnapping so their relationship kinda comes off like stockholm syndrom as a result of both of these. 

That being said.. warts and all.. it’s still a really damn good story and a good one to try if your intrested in barks work or where Goldie came from: it has adventure, some really good jokes and if you can get past the dated bits the plot is solid. And while it goes without saying i’ll say it anyway Barks art is goregous as always ESPECIALLY in the flashback sequence. Overall not the best AGED Scrooge story, though not the worst either see Voodoo Hoodoo, good god, but defintely a classic for a reason.  If you liked this review, follow me for more, and for more duck content as I still have more of the three cablleros to work through, another chapter of life and times coming up this week befor ewe break again for feburary, and some other fun stuff. Until the next rainbow, it’s been a pleasure. 

[giuliafc]

Little Baby in a Crib

Little Baby in a Crib

by: JuliaFC

Read on Ao3 || FFN

When Marinette accidentally discovers the identity of her Chaton, she tries to talk to him about it, but the world seems to be against her. So she ends up recycling the less known heroes Aspik and Multimouse to finally sit down with Adrien and have a necessary and way too much overdue heart-to-heart. Adrinette and Snekmouse. Written for my friend and beta KhanOfAllOrcs, who needed some cheering up!

Betas: Agrestebug, Mia Brown, Etoile-Lead-Sama, Rosehealer02, Malauu-Ladynoir, Genxha, Callmedale, Mansi (shamelesslyromantic). Thank you all so much! Also thanks to Khan, who can't take off his beta-reader hat and proceeded to beta read his own gift. You're a great friend, Khan!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

This is a gift for my amazing friend and beta, KhanOfAllOrcs, who was a bit down and needed cheering up. Hope this will make you smile ^-^

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"Little kitty on a roof, all alone without his Lady," hummed Chat Noir, sitting at the usual spot where they would start their daily patrol.

"Hey, Chaton," came Ladybug's voice from behind him, causing him to startle slightly. "I didn't make you wait too long, did I?"

He smiled as he looked at her. "Not at all, M'lady, don't worry. You weren't that late this time."

She sat next to him and bummed her way closer. "What about the song you were singing then? I’ve heard you singing it a couple of times, always when I'm late."

"That song," he said with a little sigh, his gaze getting lost in the emptiness laid out before him, "is very special to me. Not as special as you are, Buginette." He winked flirtatiously and chuckled at her eye-roll reaction. "But still very special."

Ladybug looked at him for a while, noticing how far away his gaze still was and how loudly he had sighed after he spoke. "Care to tell me about it?"

Chat Noir's eyes darted to her face, his previously pensive expression changing to one of pure fondness. "My maman used to sing me this song as a lullaby to help me fall asleep as a baby. It was from a film she ac— I mean, from a film she really liked. I just adapted the words to me and you."

Ladybug smiled. "Your maman sounds like a really nice person, Chat Noir."

"She was," he admitted, "or she is, I don't know. She disappeared a little over a year ago."

Ladybug's smile died on her face, her brows furrowing in a frown, her complexion turning ashen. "Oh God, I'm so sorry Minou, I didn't want to—"

He smiled and looked at her, shaking his head. "Don't worry Buginette, it's okay. You couldn't know." He looked down and was quiet for a long time, letting his feet and legs swing freely from the edge of the rooftop they were sitting on. "I always sing that song when I feel lonely. It makes me feel closer to maman."

Tears filled Ladybug's eyes. How insensitive could she have been? Again she had misjudged him. Again she had let her first impression of him take control. She had thought that the song was just a silly rhyme. She would never have thought that it held such heartfelt meaning to him. To be completely honest, even after Glaciator and even after having known him for all this time, she still couldn't believe that Chat Noir had such a deep and sorrowful side to himself. He always looked so happy, so carefree.

"I'm sorry, Chat Noir. I didn't want you to feel lonely, or sad. I will try to be on time next patrol. Promise."

He glanced at her sheepishly and raised a hand to the nape of his neck. "I'm never sad when I'm with you, M'lady. Shall we start patrol? I can see some people taking pictures of us over there. Wouldn't want them to mistake us for a couple…" He said the past sentence while wiggling his eyebrows, but she could see the way his shoulders tensed and she knew he still wasn't okay.

"Not going to happen, Chaton," said Ladybug, giving him a smug look. His tension eased and he chuckled a little as she let the subject fall. She didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. And besides, he was right. People were indeed taking pictures of them. They got up and Ladybug let the yoyo take her wherever it wanted, followed closely by her partner.

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Usually, she wouldn't have thought about it any more. Maybe her brain would have picked the memory out next time she heard him singing the song, but that would have been it. Not this time, though.

The following morning in school, Mlle. Bustier smiled at her students as she fondly stroked her growing belly. "Good morning, class."

"Good morning, Mlle. Bustier."

"Today I need to step out for an ob-gyn appointment which, unfortunately, had to be scheduled during school hours. M. Damocles agreed for me to go, and it shouldn't take me any longer than 45 minutes." She looked at Marinette. "I have assigned a quick project for you to do in pairs. I have already selected the pairs and will give the selection and all the instructions to Marinette. I leave you in the class president's capable hands."

"Will this project impact our grade, Mlle.?" asked Max, sounding a little worried.

"It will. You don't have to finish it today, it won't be due for a while and it shouldn't be too difficult for you to do well. Now if you’ll excuse me…" She beckoned Marinette to come closer and quietly explained the project. Then she dashed out of the classroom looking worriedly at her watch.

Marinette skimmed through the instructions. She really liked Mlle. Bustier and knew she wasn't going to be disappointed with her teacher’s choice. And the project looked so interesting. At least, it did until she looked at the pairing arrangements, and her heart froze.

No, that must have been a mistake on Mlle. Bustier's part. No, she couldn't possibly be paired with Adrien. That wasn't right. That wasn't how life should be. She should be paired with Alya and Adrien with Nino… but the more she read and re-read the list of pairings, the more the names Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng next to one another stood out and made her blood freeze.

On second thought, she didn't like this project. Nope. She didn't like this project at all.

"Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous," came Chloé's trademark comment, waking her up from her bewilderment. "She's been there staring at those papers with an idiotic look on her face for the last few minutes. What are you waiting for, Dupain-Cheng? For Mlle. Bustier to return?"

'That wouldn't be a bad idea,' thought Marinette. But Chloé was right, for once. Marinette frowned as she realised that. "Oh, sorry!" she said instead and looked up. "The project is about researching traditional songs, or songs that have a tradition or a meaning in your family or in your life. We must explain in our project how these songs have shaped our life and how, or if, we carry on using them nowadays. These are the pairings."

She gave Alya a pleading look and carefully avoided glancing in Adrien's direction. "Alya can read them to you all while I go make some copies of the instructions." Her voice rose a whole octave as she said the second part of her sentence. When she saw Alya standing up to take the paper with the list of pairings from her hand, she gave her a nervous smile before literally bolting out of the door with the instructions sheet.

When she came back to class a couple of minutes later, she saw something wrong in the arrangement of the seats. Her heart started beating in her ears when she met Adrien's gaze and he gave her one of his brightest smiles. She blushed to the root of her hair. As usual, her being selfish had backfired on her badly. Alya was sitting in the first row with Nino (as was her pairing) and Adrien was sitting in Alya's place, next to her seat. All the other students had moved to sit with the person they had been paired with. Chloé looked extremely displeased with the pairing arrangements, as she was now sitting at the back, next to Max.

Marinette kept her gaze trained on Chloé and on her pouty, annoyed face as she walked back to where Alya was sitting. It was the best way to hold onto some sanity. She quickly looked at her best friend when she reached her seat and Alya winked, mouthing 'you're welcome' to her. When Marinette passed her the photocopies of the instructions and glared at her, Alya simply picked her copy, passed the other copies along, and smiled smugly, folding her arms over her chest. "I just thought it was a good idea so we could all start discussing our projects in our pairs, Marinette." She raised an eyebrow. "That's what Mlle. Bustier asked us to do in her absence, right? Have fun!" She emphasised the last word in such a tone that Marinette had no doubts as to the double meaning attached to it.

She sighed. She loved Alya. The young journalist was the person Marinette trusted more than anyone in the whole universe. But when that girl got an idea in her mind, it was extremely difficult to make her back out. And, unfortunately, no matter how many times she had explained to her that she didn't have time (or the strength) for romance in her busy schedule as Ladybug, Alya kept riding her 'Adrienette ship'.

After ensuring that everybody had gotten their copy of the instructions, like a criminal walking the gallows, Marinette climbed with heavy feet the step that separated her from her seat and collapsed into it. She didn't dare to take a single look in Adrien's direction for quite a while. When finally she gathered the courage to peek a little, she saw that he was reading the instructions for the project with interest.

"Hi, Marinette," he said and beamed at her. Marinette felt all blood rushing to her face. Oh God, she had thought she was past this. She had managed to actually have a couple of normal conversations with him lately.

She gulped awkwardly and looked up into his eyes. "H-hi!" she said, but when her blue met green, she felt her heart skip a beat. Crap. How was she going to concentrate well enough to do a project with him? Knowing that he had recently broken up with Kagami wasn't helping. At all! As easy and entertaining as the school project may be, she couldn't think of anything and only melted in a puddle of goo every time she caught sight of his eyes. And the way he looked at her. It should be illegal. Seriously, he had to stop looking at her that way. You just don't look at your 'just a friend' like that!

Right?

"Have you got any ideas about the project?" he asked and Marinette's mind finally managed to get out of the self-induced mesmerising she had gotten herself into and attempted to focus on the task.

"Oh yes. The project. Right. Yep. So…" She locked her gaze to the questions on the paper and tried to stubbornly ignore the heat she was feeling coming out of the ray of sunshine sitting next to her. She involuntarily fanned herself.

"—Hot?" he asked, and she realised that she had completely zoned out.

"Uh, yes you're hot. I mean I'm hot. Uh, I mean it's very warm, yes." She smiled sheepishly at him and blushed a little. Then, with immense effort, she moved slightly closer to him and gave her full attention to the instructions at hand. "S-so… about the project…"

"Yes?" he asked.

"I actually have a good one," she said and mentally congratulated herself for having managed to put a whole sentence together in front of him without stuttering or mixing her words once. She closed her eyes and took a big breath, trying to calm the mad beating of her heart. That seemed to work. That and the fact that with her eyes closed, she couldn't see him. "My dad always sings a song when he's baking bread. He's always said that the song helps the bread come out perfectly and if he didn't sing, the bread would be disgusting, no matter how much effort he put into it."

"Oh," said Adrien from her side, bringing her back from her self-isolated bubble. "That sounds really good. Is the song famous?"

"It is," she said and started humming it under her breath and pretending to knead the dough. "Les petits pains pétris avec amour sont bien meilleurs lorsqu'ils sortent du four…(1)"

"Oh, I know that song! The words are different, but it's the aria from the Carmen, isn't it?" For once, it didn't take any effort for her to look at him and nod. He beamed at her.

"L’amour est un oiseau rebelle," she said, turning around quickly and looking at the instructions again. "But Papa changed the words of it."

"Very clever," he said and Marinette didn't have the courage to look at him.

"Yep." She kept her eyes trained on the questions on the paper, trying her best to ignore his hand, mere centimetres from her own. "Made kneading the dough so much more fun! We used to spend hours singing the song and kneading and then having competitions to establish which bread was the best, with my mother as a judge." As she said that, her face got a dreamy expression and she got lost in the fond memories of so many afternoons of laughter and fun.

"I bet!" he said; she felt him nearly crouching over himself. "I wish I had tales as good as that to add to the project."

Marinette looked at him, her eyes now full with sadness. "Oh, Adrien, don't worry, I have plenty of other anecdotes, we can use mine!" She was surprised by how easily she managed to say that entire sentence, just to try to cheer him up. "For example when—" she started, but she saw his eyes light up suddenly; her tongue froze.

"Actually, I think I have one, too." He blushed and moved his hand to his nape, rubbing it nervously when her eyes widened.

"Really? Please do tell!" In her excitement because he had found something to talk about and had cheered up, she totally forgot about her shyness and leaned forward next to him, looking at him expectantly. He gave her a warm smile.

"You remember 'Solitude'?" he inquired and then looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"How could I ever forget?" She sighed and moved her gaze again to the list on their desk. "The time we nearly managed to watch a film together." Yes, keep focusing on the list. Don't look at him. It's working!

"Yeah," he said, his eyes losing the light they had gained seconds before.

Marinette was obviously not following her own advice and had been looking at him. So she noticed, and mentally kicked herself. "What about ‘Solitude’, and your anecdote?" she asked, noticing with a painful pang in her heart that the gleam in Adrien's eyes returned as soon as she asked the question.

"Well, as you know, my mother was the main actress in that movie." Marinette nodded. "There was a song that my mother really loved the melody of. Exactly like your dad, she changed the words of the song and used it as a lullaby to put me to sleep. Let me see if I can find the tune in my collection." He skimmed through the folders of his tablet and after searching a little while, he erupted in a victorious "aha!" Then, he proceeded to take out his ear plugs and unceremoniously popped one of them into her ear, putting the other one into his, and pressed 'play'.

When Marinette started listening to the song, she initially attempted to relax. The music was very soft and the melody from the violin was so pretty. But then, the singer's voice came into play and Marinette felt all blood draining from her face. Her hands started feeling like ice, her breath caught.

CRAP!

She recognised that tune. She attempted a smile, but based on the frown on Adrien's face, she must have only managed a nervous cringe. "You don't like it?"

She sucked her breath in. "Oh no, it's beautiful. It really is! H-how d-did your m-mother change the w-words of it?" she asked, faking enthusiasm while in reality she was dying inside. She couldn't believe it… she simply couldn't believe it!

Adrien's eyes got the softest gleam in them, a gleam she had never, ever seen. A gleam that made her fall in love with him twice as much. Her heart swell for the boy as he smiled and said, "Well, it goes like this, 'Little baby in a crib, all alone without his mommy…'" Adrien kept singing quietly, but Marinette wasn't listening anymore. As she heard his voice singing the first few words of the melody, the words didn't matter any longer. The mask didn't matter any longer. She knew that song, she knew that voice. The memory of a white version of him with piercing blue eyes singing it atop Montparnasse Tower still haunted her nightmares.

"—you think? Marinette? Are you okay?" She felt a hand passing in front of her eyes and gasped so loudly that Alya turned around and gave her a wink. Marinette paled even further.

"Uh… yes. Yes, I'm okay Ch-Adrien." Bugger! She had nearly called him Chaton! She shook her head, trying to gain some clarity and finally took a good look at Adrien, his confusion showing clearly in the frown on his face.

Oh my God.

How could she have missed it? It was him! It was REALLY him! Alya had been right when she had tried to put a cat mask on his face.

"The song was so beautiful! Thanks for singing it for me." She gave him a genuine smile. She hadn't really heard it, but anything that had such a strong connection with his mother and would give such a gorgeous gleam to his eyes was beautiful, regardless.

He beamed at her. "I'm glad. I'm not very good at singing, my mother was much better than m—" he said, but she shushed him by putting a finger over his mouth. The boldness of her act surprised her and she noticed that he had widened his eyes too.

"Shh, don't talk nonsense. You don't need to be an Opera singer, Adrien. You sang it with this." She moved her hand from his lips and put it on his chest, close to his heart. God, she had touched his chest. Just that thought was making adrenaline rush through her body. And on top of that, she could feel his heart beating madly underneath her hand for a second. Where had that boldness come from? Only because she now knew he was Chat Noir, her goofy partner, the silly dork who was always ready to crack a joke, especially at the most inappropriate times? "Your heart is all that matters, and that’s what makes it beautiful."

The softness in his gaze made her blush to the roots of her hair. She smiled wryly.

"Thank you, Marinette. It's a song that I like singing, especially when I'm alone. I also changed the words of it myself once, for the girl I love, but I'm not singing that version." He again put his hand to the nape of his neck, blushed deep red, closed his eyes and laughed nervously.

Marinette knew exactly what version he was talking about and was dying to ask him to sing it. But she knew he couldn't, because it would have jeopardised his identity. So she chose to ignore his comment. "We will have to work with your mother's version, then." She gave him a little smirk and the confusion she saw in his eyes was priceless.

'Oh, Chaton,' Marinette thought. 'There's no way you're getting away with this. No way.'

A part of her wanted to strangle him for having given his secret away like that, but another part of her knew perfectly well that if she had been any other person, that song would have meant nothing. It wasn't his fault; he simply didn't know he had sung the same song to the same girl twice in 24 hours.

Then, an even smaller part of her acknowledged what Adrien had just said — that he had changed the wording of that song for 'the girl he loved', and it suddenly all clicked.

So that was it. It was Ladybug all this time. Ladybug was the girl who didn't like his jokes, not Kagami.

She had spent a fair amount of time feeling jealous of… herself, while rejecting Chat Noir… for himself. The irony of that was unmissable!

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The next few days were pure agony for Marinette. She tried. She really tried to take Adrien to a place where they could talk and be completely honest. Tell him that she knew his identity. And of course, because she had tried so hard to do it, it had been basically impossible.

The first time that she tried, she had asked him to finish their project in the library with her just after school. Adrien had made quite a few phone calls to change his schedule, and had had a small argument with Nathalie to make her understand that the grade for that paper was going to influence his overall course grade. But as they had sat and she was gathering the courage to talk, the akuma alert rang and Adrien just fled, using the excuse that during akuma alerts his father wanted him safe.

That was his usual excuse. Gosh, how could have she fallen for it up to now?

The second time, she tried to find some private time between the end of his fencing training and his Chinese lesson, but Kagami had been so rough that day that he ended up with a small injury to his back and had to go home early.

The third time, Ladybug tried to talk to him at the end of an akuma attack, but it just didn't work out: they had only one minute left before detransforming and Chat Noir 'had to s-cat'.

The fourth time she tried during patrol. But, suddenly, the whole town seemed to need their help. They were pulled away from each other left and right until it became too late and Chat Noir just… had to go again.

The fifth time she set up a meeting to discuss the matter at hand. She organised it late at night, to make sure that there wouldn't be any snoopers and that Adrien had plenty of time in his schedule to allow a proper discussion to take place. But, of course, as soon as she started talking, the akuma alert went off, and after a long and tiring battle, it was time to go home, as they had school in the morning.

So the sixth time, she cornered him behind a chimney, grabbed his shoulders with her hands, slammed his back against the wall, and looked him straight in the eye.

"M'lady, if you wanted to make out you could have said so," said Chat Noir a bit out of breath, a nervous smile curling his lips. She looked at the position they were in and mentally screamed because now that he had pointed it out, she couldn't unsee it and her inner shy self took control and tied her tongue, not allowing her to say more.

So the following time she wrote it down. She prepared a very heartfelt letter where she didn't reveal his identity (you never know, someone may get their hands on it and discover his identity) but explained to him what had happened and how she had found out. But when she gave him the paper to read, he scratched his head and looked at her funny. "Th-that's a really sweet drawing of Chat Noir, M'lady, it's very nice of you, I'll treasure it, thank you."

Ladybug snatched the paper back from his hand, to realise that it was the drawing of Chat Noir that Manon had drawn that afternoon, when she had babysat her.

Shoot. That meant that Manon had… her letter! She felt all blood drain from her face, so much so that Chat Noir asked her if she had seen a ghost.

"No, I'm fine. I'll be right back, don't move!" she said and fled. But it took her a very long time to reach Nadja's house, realise to her horror that Nadja had found the letter (because Manon had wanted to show mommy her beautiful drawing) and manage to somehow explain to Nadja that she had the habit of writing… fanfictions (hey! She had to say something…) about Ladybug and Chat Noir and she had accidentally put a chapter of her latest story in Manon's school bag instead of her drawing, which she promptly returned, obtaining her letter back in exchange. By the time she transformed again to head back to their meeting point, she had a voice message from Chat Noir telling her that he'd had to go. He had also added that he wouldn't have been able to transform unless it was an akuma alert in the following few days because of something going on in his civilian life. She knew perfect well what it was—the summer line of the Agreste brand was being introduced and he had back to back photoshoots which included shooting at evening times.

She couldn't leave it that long. It was so frustrating it wasn't even funny. She had to talk to him, she had to clarify things. Why was the world against her? The problem was that they were too noticeable as superheroes, and as Marinette and Adrien, his schedule was just too full, and hers wasn't empty, either.

"What can I do, Tikki?" she mused that evening, sitting at her desk. "I can't keep it a secret too much longer or he's going to get upset that I found out and didn't tell him. But it just seems to be an impossible task!"

Tikki flew in front of her nose. "I personally don't know how to help you, Marinette. But Sass had an idea last night, would you like to know what it is?"

"Of course!" She looked at the small snake kwami. "Tell me, Sass. What's your idea?"

"Well…" started the kwami, his expression almost emotionless, but his voice much more suave. "I wassss talking to Mullo the other day; he really enjoyed it when you were Multimousssse. And even if the young lad made me work for monthssss almost without a resssst, I like him. Hissss heart issss in the right place. What if you recccccycle a couple of lessssss known ssssuperheroes, sssso that you're lesssss noticeable and you have more time to talk during a patrol?"

Marinette blinked. And blinked again. "Do you mean recycling Multimouse and Aspik?"

Sass nodded.

"I don't know if I like this," said Marinette, touching her chin dubiously with her fingers. "Haven't I been warned so many times that it's not a good idea to use the Miraculouses for selfish reasons?"

Tikki sighed. "Yes, you're right Marinette. But if you can't manage to talk to Chat Noir in any other way, you have no choice. It's your duty as the Guardian to inform him that his identity has been compromised."

Marinette seemed to be thinking carefully about it. "So you're telling me that I wouldn't be using the Miraculouses for selfish reasons?"

"Maybe a little ssselfish," replied Sass. "But you would be also doing your duty asss a Guardian. Which issn't sssselfish, issss it?"

"Don't know if I'm totally convinced, but it does start to look like that’s my only option." Marinette sighed. "I hate the idea of having to lie to him, though. I'll keep trying a little longer, maybe?"

                                                oOoOoOoOoOo

And that's how Ladybug ended up knocking at Adrien Agreste's window, later that night. Adrien looked at her with surprise and ran to the window to let her in.

"Ladybug! To what do I owe the honour—" he started to say.

She smiled. "Adrien, I need to talk to you. Do you think it's safe for us to talk here?"

He looked warily at his watch and scratched his head. "There shouldn't be a problem right now. It's nearly dinner time, though, so it needs to be quick." He pointed at his sofa and asked, "Do you want to sit down?"

"It's very kind of you, thank you, but it’s probably better if I stay by the window, just in case," she said, eyeing the door with concern. He nodded and smiled softly.

"So, what can I do for you?" His eyes sparkled with joy and Ladybug felt like melting on the spot. Why was it so hard for her to talk to him? He was her minou, after all. Her goofy, carefree and silly partner. Her best friend. Her crush. Scratch that, damn it! Her best friend! Keep that thought.

She could do this!

No, she couldn't...

"Well, you see, the thing is…" She blushed and started fiddling with her fingers. Her gaze darted everywhere except to his face, and she felt her cheeks getting very warm. Unbidden, her eyes drifted up to meet his, and the intensity she saw there rendered her speechless.

Shoot. That wasn't the right time to feel flustered!

She sighed and took a big massive breath, but as she finally gained the courage to start talking, she heard a knock at the door, and her heart started pounding in her ears. Adrien gestured for her to go outside, which she did gladly, hoping to be able to come back soon. But Adrien left the room following Nathalie and Ladybug eventually had to leave altogether.

The following evening she was at his window again, about an hour later than the night before.

"Is now a better time?" she inquired.

"I had dinner, but unfortunately my house is not very safe or private, Ladybug, not until everyone else has gone to bed. And it would feel… improper to invite you to my room that late at night!" Both blushed to the roots of their hair and Ladybug had to agree with him. Yes, it would have been totally improper.

"Can I 'kidnap' you then? I can take you somewhere a bit more private and bring you back when we're done." When she heard herself saying that, she blushed even more deep red. "On second thought, scratch that too. It came out really wrong!"

Adrien laughed softly with his eyes closed and brought a hand to the nape of his neck. She knew him too well to not know that he only did that when he was terribly embarrassed. "You can kidnap me, if you want, I don't mind. But if somebody comes looking for me and they don't find me, I'm in trouble."

He had just finished saying that, when someone indeed knocked at his door, even this time. Ladybug just zipped her yoyo and fled.

Hence, Marinette gave up. Sass' idea didn't sound that bad at the end of the day. It was her duty as a Guardian to inform Adrien that she now knew his identity and if having a meeting as Aspik and Multimouse was the only way to do it, well, that's how it would be done. Even if it meant lying to him.

So the following night, she tapped at his window again. "Adrien, I've come here to ask you a favour. We better be quick, before someone knocks on your door tonight too!"

"I'm all ears, Ladybug!" he said, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of pride and mischief.

"Well," she said and looked up, "You see, something has come up in my civilian life and I have some… superhero things I need to do." She eyed him as she said so and noticed clearly how he gasped at her words. Had she done it wrong? Maybe she should have thought of a better excuse? She hated lying to him. "I'm going to be away for a few days and I need someone to support Chat Noir in my absence."

"Oh?" hummed Adrien, his hand scratching his chin. He was probably wondering why she hadn't spoken to Chat Noir about it yet.

"I tried to tell Chat Noir in the last few days, but I was always interrupted. And he told me that this week he has quite a lot on his plate, so I don't really want to leave him alone. That's why I thought I could reach out to you. You were great when you used the Miraculous of the Snake. I know it didn't work out then, but you tried really hard and this time there's no Desperada. Second Chance is a great tool to use on patrol, if you'd ever need me. You would just need to call me and I would be back using the Horse Miraculous in a dash."

Adrien looked up. Then he looked down. Then he blushed and scratched the nape of his neck with his right hand. "I would love to help you, Ladybug, but I have a crazy schedule this week and can't guarantee I would be able to patrol the city."

Ladybug pouted and sighed. Nope. She wasn't going to let it happen. "I am aware that you're busy, Adrien, and I'm sorry that I have to ask you to do this in the first place. But you're one of the very few people I feel I can trust, after Chat Noir." She saw his proud smile as she said that and felt her insides melting. She shook her head. She wasn't going to get distracted again. Not today. "I-I k-know for certain th-that you would be a fantastic Miraculous holder. And I need someone whose identity hasn't been exposed to Hawkmoth. You're the perfect choice and it would be only for a few days. If any akuma attacks, you can call me with your Snake communicator on the lyre." She looked at him with her best impression of puppy eyes. She saw Adrien scratching his nape a little harder and then sigh and slope his shoulders.

"Okay, I can give it a go if you want me to."

Ladybug beamed at him and picked up the Snake Miraculous from inside her yoyo. "Adrien Agreste. This is the Miraculous of the Snake, which gives the power of Intuition. You will use it for the greater good. Once your mission will be accomplished, you will return the Miraculous to me. Can I trust you?"

"Yes, Ladybug," he said softly, a gleam of delight in his green eyes. She showed him her hand flat open, palm up, holding the Ouroboros bracelet on it. Adrien picked it up a little reluctantly and as he put it on his wrist, Sass appeared in a flash of light.

"Niccce to ssssee you again, my lad."

"Hi Sass." Adrien giggled when the kwami twirled around him with a little smirk.

Maybe it isn’t such a good idea, Ladybug thought, and was nearly going to change her mind and take the Miraculous back. But she couldn't say or do anything more, because someone knocked at the door. AGAIN. She gave him a quick wave and zipped her way out of the window. As she landed on a near rooftop, she saw Nathalie coming into the room and talking to him. She breathed a sigh of relief. She had done it at last!

She hid behind a chimney, took out from her yoyo the Miraculous of the Mouse and donned it. Then, she whispered "Spots off." Tikki and Mullo appeared in a flash of light.

"Is it necessary to use the Miraculous of the Mouse, Tikki?" asked Marinette, still not fully convinced.

"You can certainly try to talk to him as Ladybug, Marinette. But it may cause the same kind of problems as when you were trying to talk to Chat Noir. Besides, you just told him that you're going away!"

"That's true." Marinette sighed. "But maybe I can talk to him tonight?"

"Are you sure that talking tonight would be a good idea?" asked Tikki. She flew a bit higher than the chimney and looked into Adrien's room. "He seems to be having quite a long discussion with Nathalie."

Marinette sighed. "I will wait for a while here, in case he decides to head out for a quick stroll, so that maybe I can talk to him today. Otherwise, I'll look for him tomorrow, as Multimouse."

And so Marinette waited for quite some time. She saw Adrien pace his room and talk to Sass. And to Plagg. Marinette facepalmed in frustration: now that she knew, and was actually paying attention, it was so easy to see that Adrien was Chat Noir. And it was quite jarring to realise how easy it would have been to notice, just passing by his window one day, and spotting Plagg.

Now that she looked at the way the kwami of Destruction moved around the room, she realised that he wasn't as discreet as Tikki. No, Plagg was definitely the very opposite of discreet. Even the whole crew of kwamis she was hiding in her room were more discreet than the black embodiment of Destruction. And all those security cameras… a shiver ran down Marinette's spine. Thank God kwamis weren't detected by technology! She kept watching Adrien for a while, until she saw that he was getting ready to go to bed, and she hastily zipped her yoyo to the nearest chimney and disappeared in the darkness.

For a couple of days, Adrien didn't transform. He also looked very tired. Every evening when she started snooping at his room from the same far away chimney, she could see him coming back home later and later, crash on the bed, Plagg trying to lift his head by his hair but failing miserably, and after a while, he would drag himself to his desk and spend hours doing what Marinette supposed was his homework (which she too should have been doing and felt really guilty about letting it slide).

Maybe it had been a bad idea. Yes, it definitely had been a bad idea. Maybe Adrien was afraid of transforming into Aspik again? Marinette couldn't blame him after the traumatic experience he had had the first time. Plus, there was that nagging prickle that came from using the two Miraculouses for a selfish reason, which she wasn't still very happy or convinced about. No, it had been another bad idea. She better become Ladybug again and knock at his window once more and get the Miraculous back.

But as she thought that, Marinette stopped in her tracks. Adrien was pacing angrily in his room. Nathalie was also in the room with him, and Gabriel Agreste came immediately after. They seemed to be having quite a heated argument, and Marinette felt bad about snooping. True, she was too far for eavesdropping or making out anything of what was going on, but the situation seemed to leave Adrien extremely shaken and she knew he wouldn't have been impressed had he known that she had seen that.

When Gabriel and Nathalie finally left the room, she saw Adrien crash onto his bed and lay on it face down for a long time. Probably crying all his tears out. The scene left Marinette extremely surprised.

Yes, Adrien had said an innumerable amount of times that the situation at home wasn't the best. He had said that his father was controlling, that he didn't allow him to do anything a normal teenager would do. But Marinette had never seen Adrien losing it so badly. He had always been so calm and controlled, even in his sadness or in his anger.

What she saw in his room instead was a boy red in the face, who screamed, who stomped his feet, who hit the wall with his fist (and then held it for a long time with the other hand, probably trying to soothe the pain). She saw Plagg and Sass trying to console him, Plagg lowering his ears flat and retreating inside his cheese cabinet. What was going on? She got seriously worried that he might be akumatised and kept a watch, scanning the sky for any sign of akumas, but no akuma came.

How weird.

Maybe it was the time to knock at his window and get Sass back? Seeing her may cheer him up, and if she managed to finally talk to him, and be honest with him, that may be enough to make his day become better, no matter what was the reason for his argument with his father.

But suddenly, she saw a flash of turquoise light and Adrien transformed into Aspik and jumped out of his window with ease. Shoot. She had missed her chance, and now it was too late! Marinette transformed into Multimouse and started following him around — although keeping up with his pace was a problem because he was very fast, much faster than he'd ever been during patrol.

Probably he needed to vent, and he vented by running on the rooftops. Tikki would maybe even call this a selfish use of his power, but Marinette couldn't blame him. After all, she'd done the same when she'd nearly had a breakdown after her breakup with Luka. And she knew he loved running on the rooftops. It gave him a sense of freedom, and now more than ever, Marinette understood why. She finally had the whole picture and could see right through his mask. And what she saw surprised her. She had always thought that, despite having a controlling father, Adrien's life was exciting and beautiful. But what she had spied on in the last couple of days, and especially the argument with Gabriel he'd just had, and his reaction, gave her a completely different picture.

Eventually, Adrien landed on the usual rooftop where Chat Noir always waited for her to start patrol. He sat in the exact place Chat Noir used to sit, starting to swing his feet and legs exactly the way Chat usually did. Marinette landed just behind him and she expected him to turn around and notice her. But no, he didn't. She moved near him and sat down next to him like she usually did. He still didn't acknowledge her but kept staring into the nothing in front of him. She could still see the tears, and how red his eyes were, even with the modified sclera of the Snake Miraculous.

"Hello?" she tried to say. He didn't show any sign of having heard her. So she became more brave and passed a hand in front of his eyes. He got startled and seemed to wake up from a dream. He turned around hastily, searching his surroundings like a cornered prey. When he saw her, his eyes grew wide.

"Ma-Multimouse?" he muttered, and then his eyes widened, he blushed profusely and bit his lip, having probably realised his mistake—as Aspik, he wasn't supposed to know Multimouse's name.

Marinette smiled and chose to ignore it: she hadn't done this to humiliate him, only to talk to him. And she already knew the truth. No need to dig the blade deeper.

"Hi!" she said and waved. "Aspik, I suppose? Ladybug told me I would find you at some point. Did she tell you about me?"

Adrien blushed, looked down and rubbed the nape of his neck with his hand. "Uh, yes, she did. Nice to meet you!" She saw him relaxing, probably relieved that he had found a way to mask his little slip. "Ladybug told me amazing things about you!" he added, sending blood rushing to her face.

"D-did she?" She knew it was a lie, but it was so nice to self-indulge for once.

Adrien nodded, his eyes closed, a soft smile curling his lips. "Aha," he said. "You're amazing. I was a bit afraid of going solo on patrol, so she told me about how fantastic you were against Kwamibuster and it made me feel so much better. Wow. Wearing and unifying all those Miraculouses must have been an achievement and a half! I only ever unified two and was exhausted at the end of the battle."

He thought there was no harm in saying it. After all, this was Multimouse, a.k.a. Marinette. She had worked alongside them only against Kwamibuster and had never met Aspik personally. She had no way to verify his words or to doubt them. And besides, she wouldn't have been able to know that it had been Chat Noir and not Aspik to unify Sass and Plagg. The only one who knew that detail was Ladybug.

Marinette's gaze softened. She looked into Adrien's eyes and all she could see was true admiration. Yes, he was lying because he had to protect his identity, but the feeling he was expressing about her? That was indeed truthful, and real. She felt blood rushing to her cheeks and had to lower her gaze. "Thank you." She crouched a little on herself to recover from her embarrassment. Then she looked up and smiled warmly. "You're not so bad, yourself."

Adrien lowered his gaze. "Uh, you must be mistaking me for the other holder of the Snake. I-I only held this Miraculous once, and the mission was such a disaster that I ended up nearly afraid of accepting the Snake ever again." He pulled his legs up and hugged them at the knees, sighing loudly. "I'm a total failure."

Marinette put a hand on his shoulder. He gasped and looked at her as she said softly, "Don't say that, Aspik. Ladybug told me that you were really brave. You failed, that's true, but you kept trying, stubbornly, tenaciously, trying your hardest to keep her safe."

His eyes had again tears in them as he objected, "And yet, I failed. The other holder was much better than me. The only good thing I did was giving the Miraculous up." He sighed and his voice cracked. "After having tried to save M—uh, Ladybug 25,913 times!" He hugged his legs tighter and crouched over himself, as if trying to disappear and drown in his misery.

But then, Marinette did something that he would never have expected her to do. She moved closer and wrapped him into a hug. He couldn't avoid opening his eyes wide as his head shot up at the gesture, allowing Marinette to hug him tighter. Wow. Um, Marinette was being very friendly with someone she was supposed to never have met, but Adrien shrugged off the thought as soon as it came to his mind. His shock only lasted for a second before his legs went back to hanging off the roof, and his arms wrapped around the girl as he hugged her back.

He didn't know how long they sat there like that. All he knew was that he didn't want the hug to end. He needed it. It was an actual physical need, especially after the massive row he'd had with his father earlier. Especially after he had been told that he needed to completely redo the three-day long, exhausting photoshoot he had just finished, because his father wasn't happy with the lighting of the pictures. That he wouldn't have had not even one day of rest, and he would have needed to skip two days of school to catch up with his father's requests.

But he didn't want to think of his father right now. He didn't want to think of the three days of pure torture he had ahead of himself. All he wanted to concentrate on was her wonderful scent. Her scent that intoxicated his nostrils. She smelled of baked goods and wildflower, with a hint of jasmine. A perfume so sweet he wished it would stay forever under his nose.

She was warm. And soft.

Eventually, however, they had to break the hug, and when his gaze met the bluebell eyes behind the mouse mask, his heart sped up. They were so full of empathy that he wanted to just squeal and hug her again.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. Sometimes the real hero is the one who realises his mistake and admits defeat. It must have taken a lot of courage to give the Miraculous back, to accept that someone else was more suited for it. You've been so brave, Aspik." She cupped a hand on his cheek as she said that and stroked the skin under his eye with her gloved thumb.

Adrien blushed to the base of his mask. "Thank you!" He sniffled, wiped his eyes, and gave Marinette a genuine smile, one of those smiles that lit up his whole face.

Marinette blushed. "You're good. I m-mean, you're okay. Uh, it's okay." This made Adrien's smile grow wider. Yes, that was still Marinette underneath that mask. And no matter what he was wearing, somehow she still managed to word-vomit in front of him, even if she didn't know that it was him. Some things would never change.

He looked at the view in front of him. The afternoon light had given in slowly to dusk as he had been venting his frustration running on the rooftops, and now the Iron Lady was already lit up and towered proudly in front of them, as the lights of the city slowly popped on in the blue and indigo canopy of the sky.

Marinette observed him for a long time as his thoughts got lost in the beauty of the view, not daring to say anything, to not bring him back to reality. He seemed to be in a much better place. She had nearly decided to stand up and leave him to his réverie, when she found herself stroking something soft and… purring?

She looked down at her lap and saw a little black cat. She gave a quick look around: there were a couple of skylights on the roof and they were both open, so maybe the cat had come out of one of them. She smiled softly and started petting the small creature.

"Oh, bonsoir petit chat noir, how are you doing tonight, mon minou?"

She hadn't even realised what she had said, until she heard Adrien's—uh, well, Chat Noir's voice at her side.

His voice was still a bit groggy, but she heard it loud and clear. "I'm as pawsome as I can be. I always am when I'm with you, M'lad—" He had playfully leaned on his back to give her a flirty look, a gesture that was so typical of her black clad partner that she could almost see his ears and blond mane popping out of the snake's mask. That's when he froze, gasping so loudly it echoed in the emptiness of their rooftop.

Her gaze shot to him and she paled. His mouth gaped open, his eyes as big as saucers, his face as white as a sheet when he realised that she was holding a black cat, and that's whom she had been talking to. He was so deep into his thoughts that he had gone into auto mode. And somehow his auto mode had mistaken Marinette's voice for his Lady's.

"Shoot. Sorry, Marinette, I-I can explain. Uh, I mean, Multimouse." He put both hands at the sides of his head and roared in frustration. "UGGGHHHHH I'm such an idiot!"

Last thing he expected was hearing Marinette's crystalline laughter echo in the darkness. He sheepishly looked at her, his heart beating in his ears. She let go of the cat, who was starting to wiggle and demanding his freedom, and wiped the corner of her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know what to say." He looked down, his hands resting nervously on his thighs. "I will have to talk to Ladybug and explain to her what happened. I'm so screwed, she knows the identity of Aspik!" His fingers pressed in the flesh of his thighs as he said that.

Marinette put again a hand on his shoulder, trying to take him out of his self-induced panic mode. "Hey, hey, Chaton? Chaton please look at me. Listen!" This was all her fault. She had to clear the misunderstanding. She really had to. She held her breath, put a hand under his chin and lifted his head. When their gazes met, though, all her resolution faltered. There it was, the moment she had been waiting for. She HAD to tell him. She had to explain everything. For once, there was no akuma attack, nobody was trying to take pictures of them, everything was perfect. So… why couldn't she say a single word? It was as if her tongue had completely tied in her mouth, her heart had started to beat madly in her ears and her breathing had also suddenly stopped.

She was so not ready.

But she had to do it. It wasn't fair on him.

BUT… she was SO not ready.

She blushed profusely and looked at him in that cringe expression she always seemed to reserve for his civilian self. "I… I already knew that you were Chat Noir," she finally blurted out. His eyes became even bigger somehow.

"How? How did you know?"

She sighed. There you go. It was the time to let go of all the secrets. "Be-because a couple of d-days ago, in school, you sang me that song," she said, not even knowing how it was possible to talk with her heart in her mouth. "A-and you had sung it to me already just the night before, mon minou."

It took him a moment. He looked down, a big massive frown furrowing his brows. He played carelessly with the Miraculous he wore on his right ring finger for a very long time, too long for Marinette to bear. She couldn't breathe until the moment that he gasped in recognition and his gaze locked onto hers.

"So I wasn't wrong when I called you M'lady? You're Ladybug?" He grabbed her hands and held them tighter when she nodded.

Marinette couldn't believe how quickly the look of pure delight and joy brightened his face. As soon as she nodded, his panic disappeared in an instant. She had never, ever seen him this happy. EVER. He was so happy that it seemed to be bursting out of him.

"Can… can I hug you?" he asked and gave her a shy look. She barely managed to nod and he had already wrapped her tight.

"I'm so sorry, Adrien. I should have told you after I found out. I did try to… but between your schedule and the akumas and people keeping us busy at patrol, it's been almost impossible. I tried so many times, but we were always interrupted. It had come to the point that I was desperate to talk to you. I didn't want to keep you out of the loop with this one, you deserved to know. I'm the Guardian after all, so I had a duty to inform you that you had accidentally revealed your identity. And then Sass had this idea, that we could have a much better opportunity to talk as Aspik and Multimouse." She broke the hug and looked him in the eye. "I'm sorry I lied to you to make sure you took Sass; I really thought it would be the only way to get some privacy." Her voice was cracking a little, but he put a finger on her mouth and shushed her.

"Shhhh, don't worry, M'lady. I'm the happiest cat—uh, snake—alive." He chuckled. "I finally know who my Lady is… and she's none other than the most beautiful and amazing girl I know." He cupped a hand on her cheek. "No wonder I fell for you twice."

Now it was Marinette's turn to open her eyes wide and gasp. "What?" she said in a choked whisper.

He blushed deep red, but his gaze didn't lose hers. "For a long time now I had realised that you weren't only a friend, Marinette. I actually doubt that you ever were. It's just," he lowered his gaze, "it's just that I thought that by loving you, I was betraying Ladybug and… I felt guilty, so I justified it in my head as you being only a friend. I had to keep you in my mind as only a friend because otherwise the guilt would eat at me. And I really tried to do it… but I failed miserably."

"Oh," was all she managed to say. She kept looking down because she couldn't lift her gaze, she was too afraid.

"Although I must say that I do feel a little hurt that you lied to me," he admitted. And that's when Marinette found the courage to look at him in the eye again.

"I'm so sorry… is there anything I can do that would make it up for you?" She didn't know where she had found the courage to ask. This left her in a very vulnerable position, but she knew that Adrien would never take advantage of it.

He gave her a look full of mischief.

Bloody hell, would Adrien really take advantage of it? Cheeky cat… uh, er, snake!

"You could exchange a lie with a… truth?" He winked at her, leaving her confused.

"What have you got in mind?" She raised an eyebrow.

He smiled. "Since I know your identity now, you could maybe tell me who the other boy is? So I can put my heart at peace and get some closure?" As he said that, his smile faded into a frown and he slouched his shoulders.

"Oh, um, wow…" Marinette hid her face behind her fingers. She DEFINITELY wasn't ready for THAT! "Can I have the spare question?" She laughed nervously and tensed like a violin's cord.

Adrien pouted. "Why, M'lady? What's the point in keeping hidden any longer? I know who you are now! Why keep it such a secret? Is he a guy I know?"

Marinette looked up. Then she looked down. Then she started picking at her fingers, and attempting to chew her nails for how uncomfortable she felt. Not that it worked through the gloves of her suit, but she did try! Why was it so easy for him to say it but for her, even after all he had just said, it was the most difficult thing ever?

She eventually dared to look at him and his gaze was so soft that she felt like melting. She gulped and her throat clenched. "Adrien Agreste," she muttered so quietly that she was almost certain he wouldn't have heard, had he not been transformed.

But she wasn't that lucky (or maybe she was?) because he gave her a confused look and asked, "Yeah?"

She sighed and cringed, but muttered even softer, "It was, and it is, Adrien Agreste."

He gasped, sucking all his breath in. "ME?"

It felt almost exhilarating. As soon as he said that, it was as if a massive weight had suddenly fallen off her shoulders. And seeing his reaction, his surprise, the adorable blush that was dusting his cheeks…

"Y-you," she whispered and smiled nervously again, tensing her shoulders. "Although I must admit that recently it was getting more and more difficult to resist Chat Noir." She saw the happy smile that popped on his lips as she said so and cupped a hand again on his cheek. It was now or never. "Silly Minou. Can I kiss you?"

His smile widened, as he wrapped her into a hug. "I thought you would never ask!" he said as he pulled back and, without a second thought, pressed his lips to hers.

Fin

Notes:

(1) "The little breads kneaded with love are much better when they're fresh off the oven…". This is from the French version of Bakerix. I know that in English Marinette and her dad don't say words while humming this tune in the episode, but in French they do, and I needed to have actual words, so I went for the French version!

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Author's Note:

Hi everyone!

Lately my friend Khan has been a bit down, so I decided to write a story for him with his favourite part of the square, SnekMouse. It has been really fun to write, I hope you will like it and drop me a note to tell me what you think.

If you read this and you’re not part of our wonderful Discord server already, but you enjoy reading, writing and talking about Miraculous, please join our Discord server, Miraculous Fanworks (for people on FFN, discord dot gg slash mlfanworks). See you there soon.

[whatisgoingonpaul]

Guess who put themselves though lost boys: the tribe. Last night and craves death? That’s right me.

Ohhhh to see without my eyes would be glorious. It is the most dated thing I’ve seen in my life and not in a good way. I cant even remember half the charecters and am having to look at the wiki if that tells you anything.

So no spoiler warning because - seriously do not watch it.

So dated-

As a 2000s kid, early 2000s movies are not something I look back at fondly as ‘adult’ movies at that time is mainly party’s , big tittie , curse and crude humor. This movie so desperately wanted to get in the cool kids club aka Rated R so they said fuck 13 times in the opening scene alone. Also dated by the really really shitty editing, and the “OH DUDE WE CAN USE LIKE DIGITAL EFFECTS WHAT UPPP” and shakey camera work. Also half the people are dressed like the worst end of the 90s/ early 2000s with the spike hair and fuck boy attitude. Movies from the 80s in my mind, yea they are dated but if they don’t rely heavily on references, tech , or common practice at the time it doesn’t come across as dated.

Takes the basic aspects but makes them bad-

So they try to imitate like small basic things from the first movie which we take shots of the town.... which is a run down sushi place and some chubby kids and emos that’s your “strange” people guys. Also the main vampire takes a lot of David bullshit and they whoop occasionally because “that’s what the other guys did.” Edgar also rehashes a lot of what we know. Also there is a sex scene to cry little sister because “THEY HAD IT IN THE FIRST MOVIE TAKE PEOPLE SWEATING.” Except they could not afford to use the og song and it’s a cover that sounds... like something else again I get whiplash to the early 2000s please end me. There is also more shots of the ocean and random cuts then substance in the movie

Charecters-

Ohhhhh how forgettable. How forgettable. I had to look up the main charecters names. So everyone’s like a good mid 20s or they at least look like their slowly trucking along to being 30 that’s another thing about early 2000s movie “please believe this grown ass man is a teen.” Like the og movie, the actors were in their early 20s for the boys but you would still believe they were actually teens; there’s a age where you can still play a teen for a while. I say this as they are clearly all adults and yet nichole is a 17 year old GIRL! Who they have drink and seduce one charecter before genuinely having sex with another. 17. So our main characters are Chris(??) and Nichole EMERSON. Do they ever explain their parents or relationship to the name? NOPE. I implied maybe star and Micheal but they both look WAY to old to be their kids at least Chris unless he’s supposed to be like 19 even then I will laugh in your face. So Evan creepy desperate emo here to die except he almost does twice but he lives.... yay. Shane and his Tribe( I said it I said the thing!) also did I mention.... they aren’t bikers.... there surfers! (Who have bikes later in the film...) so in the opening scene he’s “Some jackass from Santa Carla” is this ever explained in the movie? No. If you read rein of the frogs like I had HE WAS A SURF NAZI WHO SURVIVED(well... in a way)It’s a shame because he was one of the few charecters I enjoyed.... and was kinda really cute. Long hair , bit of a beard, scruffy looking(I have a type ok-) so if you didn’t read the comic he doesn’t really get any explaination or reason but apparently he used to be a surfer , one of the best before he dodged. Ok? Apparently Emerson was to, ok? The others don’t really get much past the one being called a adrenaline junkie like he is. I like the crazy motherfucker. Something else I found absolutely hysterical is that the two main others are obessed with their cameras always filming mainly women and their game. Their game? To literally shank each other and jump around and laugh and record them gushing blood, a particular favorite scene of mine is at the party the tall black one, Erik??? I think stabs the best buddy and twists, this mf literally- his intensines fall out and his other organs “DUDE WHAT THE FUCK I WAS GONNA GET LAID DONT FILM ME-.” He picks them up off the ground and walks inside so nonshalantly- girls are screaming and panicking and the other two are laughing their asses off. Did I mention these vampires, young vampires at that as even Shane is like maybe only in his 40s/30s but looks a young 20, throw ragers? Because it’s 2008 babyyyy. Nicole is the usual “I want to see my hair flow in the wind and talk romantically about death.” Aka what Dracula Adaptations do to Lucy westenra to make her major vampire bait, and naturally Shane took it. The best charecter is probably Edgar as he was constistantly halarious though out the whole film until he started quipping. There was also a mid credit scene with SAM FUCKING EMERSON PLAID BY COREY I SHIT YOU NOT. He’s a vampire. Why? Something happened between them and it has to do with Alan to. This I need explained to me right fucking now. Oh wait no the best charecter is the guy dressed up as the oiled up sax player.

Vampire inconsistency-

So new info;

-doesn’t spesifically have to be a stake or wooden just in the heart.

Inconsistent-

Apparently garlic does work now boys, despite the fact that it was very clearly stated by Paul in the first film that it wouldn’t (Edgar was there for that you think he’d remember-) however Garlic bolo took my soul.

There’s inconsistency in how vampires look in this film alone contradicts itself. Like. So lost boys established the basics

Yellow eyes, long nails, fangs, bad breath , the face bone shift.

This one has a cheap supernatural lookin’ ass black eye effect and some fangs. Except when they don’t and it’s yellow eyes and fangs also with no facial effect except no it’s full facial makeup with black eyes and veins. Except no it’s full facial prosthetic more like the first film but with veins , black eyes , Dracula slit nose and SHARK TEETH(it really is like super natural vampires JFC.) like there is 4 different ways they look in this movie alone wtf. Also Shane, a full vampire; the head, can go outside at sundown/twilight if he has sunglasses. Good to know.

WHAT IS THISSSSS LMFAOOOOO

Also where does this movie even take place? As it is Damn well not Santa Carla and they make sure you know that.

Also we end on a “kids are doing drugs aren’t you” haha aunt so stupid joke. LAUGH.

Again seriously sams a vampire. Not explained but illuded to, Presumably edgars fault. Considering he is a grown ass man as well it was likely recent, probably tragic. You would think Sam would be just as angsty as his bro but no he’s all dark and angry and again did I mention it’s the ACTUAL FUCKING ACTOR?

[babbushka]

Each Eye (4/8)

Kylo was the most feared boss in the entirety of New York City. They said that the crime families were no more, that they had disappeared with the end of an era. You knew it wasn’t true, you saw first hand. The families didn’t disappear, they simply went underground, adapted.

Lucky for you, your man, and your family, no one could ever get rid of crime. Not really.

Mob Boss!Kylo x Reader

Word count: 8.5k Warnings: N*FW, mentions of violence/murder

Also available on AO3! 

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It was true, what they said. About Kylo, about him being a monster. He was ruthless, focused, merciless. He had some wild thing living in his veins, simmering just underneath his skin, some evil harrowing thing with sharp teeth and curled claws and venom dripping from both sets of razors. 

You hadn’t tamed the beast, not by any means, but you certainly did a good job of keeping him occupied, you thought to yourself when the two of you had finished, your sore body littered with bruises and bites, sweet soft blooms in the wake of hard hands and grips too tight.

To your own credit, Kylo’s body didn’t fare much better; scratched to high heavens from your nails, bleeding in some parts from the force of it, dark splotches and marks all across his chest. But from his spot on the bed, whole frame shoved up against you, his fingers trailing in lazy patterns on your stomach as he kissed your cheek rosy from exertion in the afternoon sunlight, he didn’t seem to mind.

You took in a deep breath, let it out with a thoughtful hum, rolled off the bed and pulled him by the hand into the bathroom.

Another shower would be excessive, but a wipe-down was absolutely necessary, and he sat on the edge of the bathtub, beckoned you forward so you could stand between his legs.

“Good?” You asked, settled between his knees as he turned the faucet of the tub on, dunked a soft cloth underneath the spray when the water ran warm enough. 

“You’re always good.” He said with intense concentration as he began dutifully wiping you down.

“I meant you, my perfect darling. Are you good?” You asked, making his hand still for a moment from the praise as he turned those eyes up towards you, always looking up at you. He quirked the barest hint of a smile, just the flash of a dimple, and you knew he was preening, blushing from your words.

“I’m breaking out into song and dance.” He replied, deadpan humor of his making you laugh brightly, which in turn made him blush even more, blushing that he could make you laugh.

You couldn’t help but grin, card your fingers through his messy locks. They were clean from being washed only that morning, but the waves had tangled up in the process of him fucking the life out of you. Or maybe into you? Who knew, only time would tell.

“What are you wearing tonight?” You asked, partly because he seemed to be in a chatty mood, giving more than a one-word response. You liked when he was talkative, when he was smiling the way he was. It showed off those dimples you loved so dearly.

“I have a new velvet suit, was thinking about breaking that in.” He shrugged, big brown eyes filled with soul as he searched your face for your response.

You appraised him for a moment, how handsome he was. The way you could see the damage from the scar, how it had just very nearly missed his eyeball, how it had just very nearly avoided blinding him there. You leaned down slightly to kiss the high point of his cheekbone, where the split marred the flesh, as he carefully, adoringly, smoothed the cloth down the backs of your thighs, your calves.

“Velvet.” You finally said, pleased with his choice. “You know I love velvet. I’ll wear it too.” You decided, and he perked up, looking altogether too young, painfully young, in that way he sometimes did when he was excited.

“The red dress?” He licked his lips and you laughed just a little at his eagerness.

“No, I was thinking the purple.” You were sorry to say, tugged on his ear just a little and Kylo rolled his eyes fondly. He continued his ministrations while you hummed in thought, chewed on the inside of your cheek. Something had really been bothering you, from the moment you had regained the ability to form coherent thoughts, “I wonder what murder it was.”

“Hm?” Kylo asked, too occupied with pressing his thumbs into the red marks he left on your hips, occupied with cleaning your stomach.

“Pigs said there was a murder. I wonder who did it.” You specified, and he shrugged.

“It wasn’t any of our people, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” He said, and you chuckled, leaned down for a kiss one more.

“Do you think it could be the same person involved with sending those guys to rough up Larry?” You asked, as his hands dropped the cloth and he pulled you closer closer closer, until you were in danger of knocking him backwards into the tub, in danger of making him lose his balance as his lips were seemingly magnetized to your own.

“Yeah.” Kylo said, eyes slipping closed as you met him halfway and made out with him for a little bit before he pulled away with a low growl in the back of his throat, stopping himself from getting hard all over again. “And it probably is. I don’t entirely believe that it’s not Hux. No one else has the nerve to fuck around with us like that. Maybe we can talk more about it after dinner, I can call some guys and see what’s up, they can get back to me after we eat.” Kylo continued, and your eyebrows nearly shot up at such a speech.

You stepped back, gave him enough room to stand up, and it never failed to amuse you just how tall he was.

So tall and yet he bent – physically and metaphorically – to your will, to meet you.

You turned around to face the mirror, the long clean mirror that covered the wall of the bathroom, and smiled at the reflection of your naked bodies. Kylo stood behind you, and yet he was still so wide that you could see his sides poking out from behind you, watched as his hands slid around your stomach to hold you.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?” You asked, and he kissed your cheek.

“No.” He gave your lower stomach a little smack, before walking away in search of underwear, the chill of the room finally starting to settle in after being so hot from sex.

“But I want to know.” You complained playfully, laughing when a clean pair of your own underwear was chucked at your head.

“Tough shit.” He said, and though he didn’t smile, his eyes shimmered with a lightheartedness of his own.

You snatched them before the cotton could hit you in the face, and stepped into them while he watched with his own approving glare.

“Who d’ya think you are? Talkin’ to me like that?” You folded your arms in front of your chest, stalking towards him in manner that had him backing up out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

“Love you.” He said and you just snapped your teeth at him, making him snatch you around the waist and circle you around and around, to music that wasn’t there, dip you low so he could kiss your laughing mouth.

You eventually got dizzy, and pushed at his chest lightly with a big smile.

“Yeah yeah.” You rolled your eyes, pinched his ass when he set you right, “Go wrap yourself in velvet why don’t you?”  

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

Being that it was Sunday, Dopheld was available to drive you both to the restaurant. You and Kylo were snuggled up in the backseat of the car, you in your fur coat and matching hat, and he in his suit, his hand on your knee, possessive and hot.

You had to admit, you were anticipating something overly expensive and exclusive, like Le Bernardin, or Eleven Madison Park, so when Dopheld pulled the Bentley up to a rustic looking jazz club, you were both very excited and amused.

Kylo looked to you, gauging your approval for the place, and you nodded simply.

“Thank you, Dopheld.” Kylo said, before promptly getting out of the car and holding the door open for you.

Your driver only gave a bright smile in response, before driving away to do goodness knows what. Kylo offered you his arm and you took it easily, your heels careful of the ice that had started to form on the pavement.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ren! What an absolute pleasure it is to have you celebrate your special night with us.” The hostess at the door of the restaurant said when the two of you walked in, “Please allow me to take your coat, shall I escort you to our private room?”

Once again, Kylo surprised you by shaking his head as you shimmied out of your furs, handed them over with care.

“No, no thank you.” He replied, voice measured, deep. “We’d like our table to be right with everyone else.”

The hostess was undoubtedly surprised as well, but she was at least decent enough to not be so flustered. You felt bad, the poor woman had probably arranged for something special that would now go to waste. Kylo didn’t care, and stood there expectantly, waiting for the host to finish speaking with a waiter or two, to rearrange the seating.

“Right this way.” The woman said eventually, and Kylo gestured for you to go first, him trailing behind.

It wasn’t until you gave a habitual passing glance out the door, that you realized Kylo had asked Knuckles and Slip to keep watch over the evening. You smiled in their direction, knowing they could see it, before going deeper into the restaurant.

It was dark outside now that the sun had gone down, but you were sure it’d be black as night in this place no matter the time of day. It was a true and proper lounge, with a fully stocked bar encased in dark wood, small round tables covered in a white cloth and decorated with a tea-light candle and bouquet of flowers were arranged so that patrons and waiters alike could weave through the paths with ease. It was smoky, one of the last lounges that allowed smoking indoors you were impressed, and the lights were all dimmed low and golden, except for the lights which illuminated a stage. The thick red curtain was closed for now, but Kylo was checking his watch, so you knew something must be starting soon.

The host brought you to your table, a prime spot in view of the stage. Not too close that you’d be craning your neck all evening, but not too far away that many heads could get in your way. It was even close to the open dance floor, which would no doubt be filled with sentimental couples. You were already planning on being a sentimental couple yourself, as Kylo pulled your chair out for you.

“Who’s preforming tonight?” You asked the hostess, who glanced at the stage and then at her own watch.

“We’ve received a special request for the evening, it’s just our house band but they’re doing covers of Sinatra songs.” She replied, and you couldn’t help but suck in a breath.

“You’re so good, you know that?” You turned to Kylo, grasped his hand in an adoring squeeze as he shifted his chair to sit next to you as opposed to across from you.

You pressed your side right up against his as the host left, clearly wanting to give you space.

“Oh I’m even better, just wait.” He said in a rare display of cheeky confidence.

When the food arrived, it was a smorgasbord of all your favorites. It felt like the courses were never-ending, between the appetizers and the soup and the main dish with all its sides. Every bite was somehow more delicious than the last, and you wanted to know how Kylo had found such a place, such a hole-in-the-wall.

You wondered if it was in his jurisdiction, or if the owners just knew of him, like over at John’s.

Almost as soon as the food arrived, did the band get up on stage. Dressed like they were from the 1940s, transporting you back in time. Not in that hokey way of poorly made wigs and generic fedora hats, but in a considerate way, a thoughtful way, attention to detail in the history of the fashion, respecting the times.  

You hummed and tapped your foot along to the music as you and Kylo stared into one another’s eyes, being obnoxiously in love without a care in the world. He fed you, lifted your fork up to your lips, and you carefully avoided smudging your lipstick.

You’re both relatively quiet while you eat, too wrapped up in each other’s gaze and more than happy to simply enjoy the music. The singer did a wonderful job imitating the songs, putting his own spin on some of the intonation every now and again in a way you appreciated. But eventually, the last course was taken away, and you had the urge to dance.

One look towards the dance floor had Kylo rising from his seat and offering you his hand, which you gladly took, and he walked you to the middle of the floor. You weren’t the only couple there, not by any means – it felt like half the tables were empty of people instead swaying back and forth.  

When the big band orchestra played up Always, you couldn’t help but grin and blush, duck your head just a little, just enough for Kylo to tip your chin back up to meet his gaze through lidded eyes. His arm slid around your waist, his other moving to grasp your hand as he turned you round and around on the dance floor.

And people always said you were the sentimental one, you couldn’t help but think as the singer up on the stage crooned out your wedding song. Kylo himself was starry-eyed, chewing on his lip, and you didn’t deny him a kiss, didn’t deny either of you a soft, romantic kiss.

The lounge was hazy and smooth, and though you’re surrounded by other couples in diamonds and pearls, you feel like the luckiest woman on earth, the only woman on earth.

“How come you wanted us in the middle of everyone?” You asked softly, a small smile on your lips as the two of you waltzed slowly to the music.

“I saw some familiar faces when we walked in. Figured they wouldn’t cause a scene if we were out in the open.” Kylo said, and your brow creases slightly.

“Where?” You asked, and Kylo’s jaw clenched, he rotated you both around so that you’re facing the opposite direction.

“Just past the big pillar.” He said, low in your ear, as his lips brushed against the back of your cheek, pressed a chaste kiss to your skin. You hummed and let him keep kissing as you searched for who might be there to bother you, when your eyes landed on them.

The brother sister duo of Roisin and Connor were chatting near the great marble pillar which supports the ceiling of the ritzy lounge, and you held your eye contact when they took notice of you noticing them. They looked good, you had to admit. The deep green satin dress complimented Roisin’s ginger hair and freckled complexion beautifully, and you couldn’t ever recall a time where you didn’t see Connor in a suit. His wasn’t velvet like Kylo’s, but it was still tailored well enough and had big enough shoulder pads to broaden him out a bit.

“Fuck.” You breathed when they decided you’ve been staring too long, “They’re Irish. And they’re coming over.”

Kylo seemingly didn’t mind too much, not in the moment anyway, and just kept dancing with you as they made their way across the floor, joining in and dancing with one another to not seem so conspicuous.

You and Kylo did your best not to look suspicious, not to look alert, not even when they wound up dancing right next to you. Seemingly nothing but two couples, strangers in this great big world, happening to steal a piece of the beauty of the moment.

That is until the song ended, and there’s polite applause for a song well sung, until they turned to face you as the man took a big swig of water and shared a small anecdote that has the crowd chuckling in amusement while the band set up for the next song.

“Kylo, (Y/N).” Connor kept his voice low, at least had the decency to nod his head in respect, “Fancy meeting you here.”

“What do you want?” Kylo cut right to the chase, and Roisin laughed in that quiet, elevated way people of high society laugh.

“A dance.” She said, and you’re prepared to claim your man right in front of her, when she surprised you by looking right at you and specifying, “With (Y/N).”

“No.” Kylo said immediately, grip around your waist tightening. But something in Roisin’s appraising gaze is calculating enough to interest you.

“One dance.” You said, that gaze a challenge. You’ve never been known to back down from a challenge.

Kylo and Connor both exchanged glances, and Kylo’s jaw worked and worked and worked to keep his mouth shut, as he nodded, as they both walked to the sidelines.

He’s not happy about it, not happy one fucking bit, but you wanted to know what’s going on. Roisin’s skin was soft where her dress wasn’t covering her, thin spaghetti straps showing off her toned arms. She assumed the leading position, which you found you didn’t mind.

“Roisin, is everything okay?” You asked, brushing a strand of curled hair off of her shoulder.

“No, they’re not. We’re here to serve as a warning.” Roisin said with a bit of a sigh, and you nodded.

Warnings were messy, they always were. You didn’t have a gun on you, didn’t think you’d need it, but you knew Kylo had three on him right now, he could intervene if he needed to. You may not have had a gun, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t kill her right then, right there.

And you would, but you wanted answers first.

“Just tell me something first, is it Hux?” You asked, as she twirled you slowly, dipped you down down down, stomach fluttering from it as she raises you back up, all too similar to how Kylo had in the bathroom.

“Is what Hux?” She asked, and you didn’t really appreciate that, playing dumb.

“The person committing all the murders, sending guys to harass our business owners?” You spelled it out, gave her that much leeway.

Except.

She faltered the dance for a moment as she frowned, her pale brows knitting as she regarded you for a moment. In your peripheral, you saw Kylo and Connor tense, incredibly tense, as they watched the two of you on the dance floor.

“Wait – we thought you were the ones committing the murders and sending guys to harass our people.” She said quietly, her hands reclaiming your waist and palm, resuming the dance once more.

It wouldn’t do to draw attention, not now.

“We haven’t sent anyone anywhere.” You shook your head, now thoroughly unhappy with the proceedings of this Midtown disaster. “Shit, you’ve got people dying too?” You asked, and she groans in the back of her throat, nods.

“Yeah, fuck. Well this makes it awkward.” She sighed, careful to avoid stepping on your toes as she spun you around, and ahh there it is.

“Makes what awkward?” You prompted, just to get it out of the way.

“I’m supposed to kill you. Hux thinks Kylo’s crossed a line, one of his favorite suppliers was found carved up last night.” She explained, and you hummed thoughtfully, because really by all accounts his reaction makes sense given his perspective.

Too bad it’s the wrong one.

“If you’d like you can give it your best try.” You offered Roisin, who looked at you like you’ve got three heads.

“You’re going to let me murder you?” She asked, and you laughed brightly, shook your head.

“I’m going to let you try.” You specified, making her grin.

Many people have tried.

Roisin reached in between her cleavage and pulled out the smallest little gun you’ve ever seen, one that probably could only hold three or four bullets, one that she pressed against your hip, leaned in close, her perfectly applied lipstick very close to your cheek. The metal was cold, cold enough that you could feel it through the velvet of your dress, and she hummed, her lashes tickling your skin.

Before she can cock the trigger and plant her literal kiss of death, you reached into your hair and pulled out the long needle that you’ve used as a decorative pin to hold your locks up, and swiftly pushed it between her ribs, penetrating that pretty green satin. The needle slid into her flesh like she’s made of butter, and you couldn’t help but smile just a little as you turned your face to press a kiss to her own cheek, leaving the pretty imprint of your deep red lips.  

“Damn.” She chuckled with a wince, as your hand was now pressed right against her skin, as you let go of the needle. It remained deep inside her, puncturing one of her major arteries. She tensed up immediately from the pain, “You really are fast.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You whispered, “You can keep that.” You tap the pretty handle of the needle, encrusted with jewels that you’ll be sad to miss.

But if you pulled it out of her right now, then she’d die practically on the spot, and that would cause a scene. You very well couldn’t have that.

Not on your anniversary.

“I suggest you leave.” You said, as the song ended, her one dance up. You turned to the singer and applauded along with everyone else, as Roisin started to cough. You didn’t bother looking at her again while saying, “And if you make it long enough, when you’re out of the hospital tell Hux we didn’t send anyone to do anything. This was in self-defense.”

“Fair enough.” Roisin groaned.

“Actually,” You said, stopping her before she could get too far, “I do really want to keep this, if you don’t mind.”

With wide eyes she was unable to stop you from reaching out and pulling the needle out of her stomach. Connor rushed over, as she immediately doubled down onto herself, clutching at the rapidly growing dark splotch in her dress.

He hurried the two of them out of the lounge, with only a minor commotion. The way Roisin was hunched over herself made it look more like she was suffering from food poisoning than a stabbing.

“Do you mind if I borrow this?” You asked a near-by table for their napkin as Kylo wove through the crowd like a shark.

You gave the man seated at the table the most dazzling charming smile you could, and he didn’t think twice about handing over his black cloth napkin. You gratefully took it right when Kylo showed up, slid his arm around your waist and shot the meanest glare he was able. You only kissed Kylo’s cheek, and having now procured the napkin, returned to the dance floor with him, leaving the man in the dust.

You wiped the needle off on the cloth and were about to twist your hair back up when Kylo lightly stopped your wrist.

“Keep it down.” He said, and you smiled, slipped the needle inside his jacket pocket. He began to dance with you again, as you both surveyed the floor – it was clear of blood, which was good. Didn’t need the pigs snooping around more than necessary. Still, Kylo had been out of earshot, so he was curious when he asked, “What happened?”

“She’ll be dead by the time they get to the car.” You mused, but he wasn’t smiling.

“Yeah but why?” He asked again, and you chewed your lip in thought.

“Hux thinks we’re the one fucking up all over the place. It’s really not him, Kylo.” You said, and his jaw clenched tight again.

“Someone is trying to pit our families against each other.” He made the obvious statement just to make it, just to try and make sense of it, “But I don’t know why.”

“There’s a lot of sick sons of bitches out there, but there’s even more stupidity. Ask the KoR to feel around just like you said, there’s got to be some evidence of this mystery person.”

“Okay.” Kylo nodded, already reaching in to take out his phone. “Also, I want to go, tomorrow. I think we should.”

You gave him a questioning glance for a moment, his decision surprising you for a moment longer, before you huffed a small laugh and plucked the cell phone right out of his palm, and he rolled his eyes. He worked too much, you thought.

“It can wait until we’re on our way home.” You puckered your lips, and Kylo, the man so in love as he was, swooped down to plant a loud smack right to your lips.

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

It took less than thirty seconds after the front door closed for Kylo to be all over you, hands all over you, lips all over you.

You let him, in the dark of your foyer, you let him.

“You were so good today.” You breathed, allowing yourself to simply feel adored, to let Kylo give whatever he wanted, take as much as he gave.

“Was I?” He asked, licked his lips, eyes wide, bright in the moonlight.

There was something there, something eager and filled with anticipation – but a hunger as well. That same hunger he had shown you earlier in the day, that same hunger he always seemed to have, stomach of the beast rumbling for you.

“Yes, very good. Tonight was so wonderful.” You whispered, cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him too sweetly, licked gently into his mouth in the way that made him keen and whine, desperate.

You let your hand fall to his crotch, shoved it down his trousers and found his cock already hard, already so full for you. You gave it a few good, even, steady strokes, ones that had his huge frame twitching, curling in towards you, shoulders rounding in and making himself small, making himself try and swallow you whole.

“I-I’m glad.” He moaned, and you smiled, kissed the corner of his open mouth as you sped up your hand a little more, used the pre-come that was slowly oozing out of his cock as lube to wet your hand more and more.

“I think someone deserves something sweet.” You pulled away, leaving him frustrated in the most delicious way.

“Let me eat your pussy?” He asked, so quick, like he had been hoping for this, had been planning for it.

“Get me naked first.” You ordered, and he was eager, desperate to do so.

So desperate in fact, that he didn’t even make it to the bedroom. He walked you to the living room, and splayed you out on the couch, shedding your layers on the way.

You had surprised him, by not wearing any underwear. This was both of your night, after all. You winked at him when he kneeled between your legs, fully dressed while you were now naked. He groaned into your skin just from the sheer lust he felt for you, buried his face between your knees in a way that made you laugh.

He thunked his forehead against your thigh and kissed the spot there before pulling your hips to the edge of the couch.

You were growing impatient yourself, and you helped the process along by propping your bare foot up against the shiny coffee table that would no doubt be smudged with your oils and sweat in a few moments, after he had had a taste of you.

You propping your foot up gave him a little nook between your legs that he could live in, and live there he did. He closed his eyes and breathed you in, breathed in the smell of your cunt, running his hands up and down your calves, the backs of your thighs, just breathing, until his mouth was literally watering so much he had to swallow hard, and then he dove in.

“Yes!” You gasped when he finally did breach you.

His tongue felt so good against you, the way it wriggled deep inside you, the way it dragged against the walls of your pussy, and you moaned loud, unashamed. His hands gripped your hips as he pushed his face as close to your cunt as possible, his nose rubbing against your clit, prodding it there as he spread your folds with his tongue and lips, sucked them into his mouth, swallowed down all the slick that your pussy gave him.

“Oh,” You gasped, chest heaving as you tangled your hand in his hair, the other gripping the cushion of the couch, “Fuck it’s so good, you’re so good.”

He moaned into you, and fuck that was a feeling you could cry from, the devastatingly deep baritone of his voice radiating through your body, right into your very core. He pulled away though and you complained, verbally protesting with a disappointed groan, which had him pleading with those eyes, kissing the inside of your knee.

“What -- ?” You asked. You could see your juices all over his goatee, in his beard and there was something sick and delicious about the way he licked it off his moustache.

“I have to fuck you.” He explained, shucking off his four-thousand-dollar suit like it was made of paper. “I have to, get inside this tight cunt.” He begged, and you nodded, frantic.

“Take me, come on, take what you want, make me come.” You were just as eager, just as desperate, and you made room for him on the couch, shimmied up it and laid horizontally across the cushions so he could settle himself between your legs.

He slid in easily, smeared his body against yours.

“Oh shit.” He groaned, sinking deeper and deeper into your hot pussy, breathing hard against your throat where he had buried his face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, made for me, just for me.”

“Kylo!” You whined his name, threw your head back when he began to thrust.

“I’m going to make you scream my name, I want you to scream for me, I want all of Manhattan to hear you crying on my dick.” He promised, and you could see it, could feel it, the way the monster was peeking through, the way his eyes had glazed over, so in love with you.

He built up a rhythm that had you shouting in no time, breath hot in his ear as he bit down on the spot where your neck and shoulder met. His hips rolled against yours, ground into yours, and your knees dropped open from the pleasure of it, legs turning to jelly and jam, melting under his touch.

“Oh please,” It was your turn now, your turn to beg, as tears welled up in your eyes under his ministrations, as he fucked fucked fucked you, touched you.

And oh did he touch you everywhere, every linger of his fingers a reverence, a declaration. He fucked you, hard and rough, skin slapping on skin, with one foot planted on the floor to give him the amount of leverage he needed, to let him really slam his hips so hard against yours that it felt like he was fucking your throat -- but he did it with nothing short of wonder in his face, that he could have this, that he could have you.

Three years you’d been married, a lifetime of love before that, and still despite it all, he always considered himself so lucky to get to take you apart like this.

He lifted one of your legs where it had gone limp, lifted it up and over his shoulder so he could plow into you faster, harder, punching the air out of you, the high shouts and moans and gasps out of you. All of it was music to his ears, all of it was praise, and all of it only made him want to work harder, only made him crave you more deeply.

He growled, angry suddenly, angry that he couldn’t just do this all the time, couldn’t just live in your pussy like he wanted, and nearly snapped you in half as he manhandled you instead onto your hands and knees. He draped himself across your back, kissed your spine, the nape of your neck where he pushed all your hair away.

His body was a cage around yours as his hips shoved his cock deeper into you, a better angle, a better and more filling feeling, having him fuck you from behind. His arms were strong and the muscles there worked effortlessly to hold himself up as he ground into you, as his cock knocked up against your cervix in a way that was nearly painful.

He let one hand slide against your abdomen, let his hot and sweaty hand feel you. He swore he could feel your heartbeat in your pussy, right there for him, beating wildly and erratically just the way he was for you. He bit down on you hard, drank in the sound of your cries as that hand moved lower and lower, until he was toying with your clit, zig-zagging across it in a way that had your shoulder-blades pinching inwards as your arms gave out under you, your upper half collapsing down onto the cushions.

He wasn’t done with you, not even while you came, still pushing into you. He was hot, dripping sweat all over your back, his goatee scratching up your skin as he mouthed and sucked at you.

You could feel it, eventually, when he did come, when his hips finally pressed up against yours for the last time for the evening, when he crushed you into the couch with his weight.

“Honey?” You asked, voice muffled from where you were smushed into the couch.

“Uh huh?” Kylo panted, eyes shut tight, still coming inside you.

“Maybe don’t kill me on our anniversary.” You laughed, huffed a little, and he huffed out too, kissing the spot between your shoulders and rolling you both over.

He mis-calculated though, and you both rolled onto the floor with a yelp.

At least you landed on top of him, and laughed.

He looked up at you, always looking up at you, with such love in his eyes that you simply had to kiss him, you had to, so you did.

And if the two of you stayed there on the floor, on top of the plush rug of the living room, covered in sweat that was cooling to only a light itch, the great expanse of the city just outside your window, the Chrysler building all lit up, well, who could blame you?

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

The next day, you both found yourselves in Long Island.

Standing outside Leia’s door.

You held a casserole dish in your hands, one that was covered with tin foil, and Kylo was doing his very best not to bolt back to the car where Dopheld had parked it in the driveway.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, standing out front on the doorstep. “It’s not too late to turn back now, if you want.”

“No.” Kylo grit out, and your heart broke a little.

Before you could press him on the manner, he lifted his hand to ring the doorbell. He didn’t even get as far as making contact with the little button before the door swung open, revealing a very short, and very angry woman on the other side.

“Well!” Leia scoffed, “Look who actually decided to show up for lunch today.”

You winced, shutting your eyes so you wouldn’t bear witness to it, to the suffering you knew was going to come with this visit.

Leia hosted lunch every Monday. And just about every Monday, you and Kylo avoided it like the plague. It was supposed to be an attempt at bringing the family together, at reconnecting and healing old wounds, but it became clear after too many screaming matches and physical blows between family members, than it would be best if Kylo just…didn’t show up.

So he never did. You were always the one to call her, to let her know that oh, no, we’re so sorry but something’s come up. Every week without fail, she called and every week you were the one to answer. It had been nearly three months since Kylo had actually spoken aloud to his mother.

Which of course brought in a whole separate argument, one that Leia was gearing up to starting right now, right there on the front porch.

“Hi mom.” Kylo said, although he didn’t sound particularly thrilled. He didn’t even make an effort to attempt to smile.

“I’m shocked and surprised and honestly? A little disappointed.” Leia said in that way of hers that was supposed to cut deep, supposed to hit too close to home.

You wondered when that line was no longer drawn to even be able to be crossed any longer.

“Good to see you too mom.” Kylo kept it dry and to the point, because really, he wasn’t here to see Leia.

She threw her hands up in exasperation before taking the casserole from you.

The inside of the house was normal. Leia never liked the lavish lifestyle, not even when she was still running things with Han. Before Han, well. You tried not to think about that.

But it was a very normal, regular, suburban house. You couldn’t imagine living in it.

You directed your attention away from the furnishings and back to your husband, who was doing his absolute best not to explode. You held his hand and gave it a tight squeeze, you just knew his other one was balled into a fist where it was shoved in his trousers’ pocket.

You and Kylo were the first ones to show up to the lunch; Lando, Chewie, Luke, Wedge, and Rey all presumably on their way.

“No phone call, no visits – ” Leia starts, although she’s cut off by the arrival of Kylo’s Uncle.

Like Lando, Chewie wasn’t really related to Kylo in any way, but he had been Han’s best and most close companion, so he had more or less been indoctrinated into the family.

Things were the most tense between Chewie and Kylo though, so Kylo remained in his corner, silently glaring at the clock on the wall, as you made up for his rudeness with overly politeness on his behalf.

“Hey Uncle Chewie.” You said, leaning in to exchange greeting cheek kisses.

“It’s good to see you, (Y/N), been too long, eh?” Chewie smiled, his teeth unnervingly sharp.  

“You just drop in whenever it’s convenient to you, not caring about your poor mother.” Chewie’s comment sparked Leia’s whole spiel again.

“Mom, you’re many things but you’re not poor.” Kylo finally snapped, before exhaling deeply out of his nose and asking, “Where’s Rey?”

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking. My back is fine, thanks for asking.” Leia spit back at him, purposefully being difficult.

“How’s your back?” Kylo asked dryly, a hard stare on his face.

“It’s fine.” Leia sarcastically replied.

“And you wonder why I don’t come.” Kylo muttered under his breath, shook his head and you spared him a glance.

This was a mistake, of course it was a mistake, and you were upset with yourself for not fighting Kylo on the subject further. He was literally backed into a corner, had situated himself in a corner of the kitchen where the two counter-tops converged, and he was starting to lose his patience to a point where you worried about how close he was to the knife block.

“You’re lucky I don’t hand you over to the police right now.” Leia sneered, but Kylo only scoffed.

“Go ahead.” He dared, voice even and deep, eyes hard, knowing that even if she did, even if she called her precious pig Poe, they’d not find a single damn thing on him, on any of you.

“Mrs. Organa, will Rey be coming today?” You asked lightly but firmly, wanting to respect her in her home but also stand up for your husband, and to get an answer. If Rey wouldn’t be there, you’d yank him out and take him back to Manhattan in a heartbeat.

“Of course she’s coming – unlike one of my children, Rey has respect for tradition and family.” Leia replied, passive-aggressive.

“We’re taking Midtown from her.” Kylo said, making both her, and Chewie – who had been rifling through the fridge this whole time to try and find a beer – freeze.

“You’re doing what?” Chewie asked, a look of disbelief on his face.

“Midtown. We’re taking it away from her.” You nodded, answered for Kylo who had officially moved away from the knife block and had come to stand behind you, arms taking their place around your middle.

It was quiet for a long while, as Leia and Chewie looked at one another for a moment.

“I hope you’re prepared for an argument.” She said, for once not entirely venomous.

“I’m always prepared for an argument with you people.” Kylo muttered again, distracting himself with kissing your neck slightly.

“What Kylo means,” You interpreted, as Kylo nosed at the exposed skin from where your blouse’s neckline revealed, “Is that we know it’s going to upset her, that’s why we wanted to announce it here, where she could be comfortable. We didn’t want to show up at her house like last time to tell her.”

“Tell who what?” A voice asked from the living room, followed by the sound of the closing of the front door.

Kylo took a deep breath – but Leia beat him to the punch, leaving the kitchen to go greet her daughter.

“They’re taking away Midtown from you.” She told Rey before anyone else could even do so much as blink, as she hugged Rey, who had gone stiff as a board.

“Mom!” Kylo snapped --

“You’re what?” Rey shouted at the same time.

Kylo hid firmly behind you as Rey stalked, lethal into the kitchen with her teeth bared. She was so feral when she was angry – they all were, but for some reason she reminded you more of Anakin than anyone else.

“Listen kid, that part of the city is a fucking mess and is only getting worse ever since we let you handle it.” Kylo said it, plain and simple, but Rey didn’t agree.

“No it hasn’t!” She protested, storming more and more into the kitchen.

You remained unflinching, a literal barrier between them.

“We heard from some of the KoR this morning, there’s been three break-ins and four murders in the last 5 days. The thing with Lenny isn’t an isolated incident. The police are starting to call it a crisis and they’ve got cars patrolling the area now. Word on the street is people are saying Hell’s Kitchen is going back to how it was when Brendol was running it, and we just can’t have that.” You said, trying to explain it to her the most calm and collected way you could.

Kylo was growing more and more riled, more and more irritated in a way that was nothing but danger.

“Some of our associates are calling me, saying there’s no way to get a hold of you, you don’t return anyone’s calls, you’re never in the fucking office.” He said, running a hand through his hair so he didn’t punch his sister in the face, “I’m sorry Rey but we can’t risk anything more over there. We’re pulling you from Midtown.”

Rey wasn’t happy.

“You can’t do that.” She shook her head, fuming, “I won’t let you do that. I’ve got too much going on right now for this shit.”

“What? What’s going on? You can tell us Rey we want to make sure there’s no trouble.” Leia asked, put herself into this mix.

“No I can’t fucking tell you.” Rey groaned as she scrubbed a hand down her face.

“Is it Gwen?” Leia asked again, not dropping it, “I thought things were going well between you.”

“It’s not – listen my sex life has nothing to do with this.” Rey shouted, and there we go, you thought, let the shouting begin.

“Rey.” Kylo suddenly went dead still, his hand frozen from where it had been tensing against your stomach, “Are you running business behind my fucking back?”

Everyone, including yourself raised their brows at that, at that assumption, that conclusion, that question. You searched his face for where the hell he had come up with that, but Rey lunged at Kylo’s throat before you could even question him about it.

You were caught in the cross-fire for all of two seconds, before Kylo quickly stepped in front of you so you wouldn’t get hurt, as the siblings literally wrestled to the fucking floor.

“Should we stop them?” Chewie asked, but you shook your head.

“No, not yet.” Leia agreed, “Not until she get’s in a good swing at least.”

That made you roll your eyes, made you want to throw a fist of your own, but you restrained yourself. This really wasn’t supposed to have been a brawl, but Rey and Kylo were now punching the shit out of one another, fighting dirty, using all the tricks in the book and shouting at each other in the process.

They had knives drawn, little switch-blades hidden in boots and coat pockets, and were doing a real number on trying to cut the other’s tongue out, trying to slice throats, trying to gouge out eyes.

“No, I’m not running any fucking business behind your back!” Rey slapped Kylo hard across the cheek, and in response he wrestled her around and slammed the back of her head against the hard tile floor.

The sharp crack made everyone wince.  

“Then what the fuck is up?” Kylo demanded, deranged, the both of them crazy, practically frothing at the mouth with hate for one another.

“I’m going to school!” Rey screamed in his face, making everyone let out a sound of confusion.

“…What?” Kylo asked, dumbfounded, panting, as he held his blade up to her throat.

“I started school, you fucking jackass. I’m getting my degree.” Rey explained, “The reason I’m gone all the time is because I have classes and exams, god you’re so selfish, not everything revolves around you, Boss.”

“Rey that’s wonderful! Why didn’t you tell us?” Leia asked, clasping her hands in front of her like her two children were not currently trying to actively murder one another with weapons they were far too trained to use.

You walked over calmly and placed a hand on Kylo’s shoulder, a silent order for him to get up, and he did. He stuck his blade back in his pocket, and you saw a flash of the guns he had in his holster as he did so. You were lucky it hadn’t come to that.

“I didn’t want to be cross-examined for every single fucking choice I make, let alone by this one.” Rey sighed, before standing up and brushing the struggle off of her clothes, saying again, “I’m going to school.”

But...

Something…was off, from the way she said it.

Something in the way she avoided eye contact, the way her voice raised in register slightly, the way there was a minor tremor in her tone.

You chalked it up to just having fought with Kylo but…that sounded like a lie.

And as if she had telepathic powers, Rey met your eyes, and you could see there was worry there, anxiety.

Why would she lie?

“Listen Rey, we’re sorry that it all came out like this, but maybe this is for the better.” You said, not really paying attention to the words you were saying, much more interested in reading her face, scouring her gaze for any hint, any offering, any clue as to what was going on in her head. Your mouth was on autopilot while you scanned her, took in everything to account, from her posture to her breathing, “Now you can focus on your coursework and not worry about running forty-blocks worth of the city.”

“(Y/N), if you didn’t scare the shit out of me so much, I’d really hate you right now.” Rey said.

That at the very least was truthful.

“I know.” You replied, not smiling, not even giving a fake one. Kylo looked at you hard, and he could tell that you knew something was up. “You can hate me all you’d like, but we’re still pulling you from Midtown.” You said.

“I think we’d better leave.” Kylo interjected, before anyone had a chance to say anything else.

You nodded in agreement, and smoothed your hair down. It had been a roller-coaster of twenty-four fucking hours, that was for sure.

You took Kylo’s hand and simply walked out of the kitchen, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone.

“Oh so you’re not even going to stay for lunch? After all that?” Leia was incredulous, following the two of you out into the parking lot.

What timing, you thought, as Luke was just parking his car next to yours.

“No, I don’t really think that’s a very good idea.” You said, giving her a falsely apologetic glare that she saw right through. “You guys enjoy, we’ll see you soon.” You lied, only nodding in passing to Luke who was visibly confused as to the presence of you and Kylo – or rather, more like your departure.

Dopheld must have had a sixth sense, because he had already started up the car and warmed the seats, ready for you and Kylo to sit comfortably in the back.

When the house and the neighborhood were firmly far enough away for Kylo to release a breath, you tried to lighten up the mood.

“Well that went about as well as it was going to.” You gave a sad smile, heart breaking for him, for how his relationship with his family was so damaged, had only grown more and more damaged over the years.

“It could have been worse.” He shrugged, jaw set, even as he lit up a cigarette and sucked down the nicotine anxiously, opened the window just a crack so that he could blow the smoke away.

“How?” You asked, and he swiped his thumb across his face, wiping away a trickle of blood that had oozed out from a sliver thin slice Rey had managed to nick into his cheek.

“She could have cut my face up again.” He said, making you both smile.

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

Tagging some mob loving pals! As always, if you’d like to be on the list or taken off, please just let me know <3  @adamsnackdriver​ @dreamboatdriver​ @kyloxfem​ @heldcaptivebychaos​ @kylo-renne​ @callmehopeless​ @solotriplets​ @formerly-anonhamster​ @lookinsidemyhead​ @candycanes19​ @adamsnacc-kler​ @the-wayward-rose​ @taylovren-types​  magikevalynn  tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov​  romancedeldiablo @elfieboxcat (I’m sorry my dear it won’t let me tag you!)

[xhanisai]

Can I be that one annoying fan that spams you every day with basically the same question? That being Kiss AU frightningale. If you would be so kind.

Well, since you kindly gave me that Ko-Fi UwUwUwU, I can spare an ounce of kindness~~~ 

This will be a long one~ Enjoy! (P.S. I have made a lot of changes here to make this, hopefully much more interesting…) 

The episode starts off with Gabriel dragging his son away to the venue for the Chat Noir costume fitting. Adrien’s trying everything to escape, ranging from faking he’s sick to clinging to the railings on the stairs. Gabriel and Nathalie struggled to get him to let go but Gorilla comes to their rescue, managing to pluck him off with ease. 

“You’ll never take me alive!” Adrien hollered out childishly, kicking his legs and banging his fists against Gorilla’s back as he was held like a sack of potatoes, the group making way out of the house and to the limo. 

“Never make us do that again, Son.” Gabriel grumbled out, running his fingers through his unruly hair before quickly straightening the locks back. A frazzled Nathalie handed him a comb with a huff.

“How about, don’t force me into doing things I don’t want to? Hmm?” Adrien sassed, looking as intimidating as a caught kitten. He could feel Plagg cackling in his jacket, the cursed being doing nothing to help. 

“It’s just a fitting Adrien- plus it’s a very good opportunity for you! You get to meet an international popstar and perform in her music video, dressed up as one of those superheroes you adore.” 

“B-B-But…I’m just a stick! I won’t do any justice to Chat Noir’s muscles and abs!” For effect, Adrien poked his shoulders. “See? Skin and bones.”

“Nonsense~ my stylists have commented about your developing muscles during your shoots. All those fencing and basketball lessons have been paying off,” Mr. Agreste chirped with a cheesy grin, pushing his glasses back against the nose. Adrien was immediately reminded of those dopey glasses characters in the hundreds of anime he’s watched. 

“Besides, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will be picked up by Vincent and his crew in five minutes to meet up at the venue and dress as your counterpart.” Nathalie added, scrolling through her tablet. She then flickered her eyes towards the boy’s curious face, glasses glinting under the light for a split second. “You wouldn’t want her to be paired with any other random Parisian, right?” 

You see, Adrien is usually a very bright boy, evidenced by his top grades, ability to adapt and so on.

This is not the case right now.

Completely dismissing the disastrous problem awaiting him, Adrien’s mind was clouded with utmost jealousy. Images of his talented Princess being oogled by some…some random KID in HIS costume…making her SMILE and even…HOLDING HER HAND??? 

‘Oh my God…what if they try to make the boy kiss my Marinette?’ Adrien screams internally, dismissing another important factor before jumping out of Gorilla’s grasps (who coincidentally loosens his grip) and darted inside the vehicle. 

“TO THE VENUE! ONLY I CAN BE THE CHAT NOIR TO MARINETTE’S LADYBUG!” The boy beeped the horn for good measures. 

“Why didn’t you use my daughter-in-law’s name to coax him in the first place, Nathalie?” Gabriel’s eyebrow twitched with irritation. His assistant simply mirrored the look. 

“It was one way I was able to get you to do some workout, sir.” Her eyes narrowed further but inside, she was fighting a grin when Gabriel spluttered. “After all, someone has been gaining a few extra pounds ever since we got friendly with your future in-laws.” 

“I-I have no idea what you mean!” Her boss harrumphed, entering the limo with a grumble. Nathalie didn’t miss the way he clutched his stomach with a pout. “It’s not my fault that they don’t let me leave till they’ve fed me three helpings of dumplings…”

Meanwhile, Marinette is kidnapped hauled away by Vincent, Alya and the rest of the girls from her class, much to her protests. Sabine and Tom watches the scene unfold with a cup of tea in hand and some sweets. Their smiles only broadening. 

“Alya-aaaa! Lemme go! Lemme go-ooooo!” What good was being Ladybug when she can’t seem to escape her best friend’s shoulder, getting carried away like a THING? Marinette let out another huff as the girls finally made way outside, a car waiting for them. 

“You can keep wriggling and fighting but you’re no match with Mama Bear Alya’s muscles~!” Her best friend hooted, flexing her free arm with exaggeration as the rest of the group giggled. “And gurl! You’re light as hell! What the heck? No wonder you can’t make me budge.”

“I am big and strong! I can take you all in one go! I’ll prove it right now!” Marinette retaliated. No one took her seriously. “I just wanted to be a backup dancer and so did Adrien!!!” The girl resorted back to whining again, flopping in defeat.

“Really? He was actually pretty adamant in taking the Chat Noir role.” Mylene nodded as did the others. 

“What? Since when? We both agreed to be backup with you girls yesterday night during a call.” 

“Someone call Barbie Doll right now,” Alya suggested whilst shoving Marinette inside the car unceremoniously, ignoring her groans. Alix rolled her eyes, whipping her phone out and got inside the vehicle, purposely squishing Marinette against the car’s door on the other side so that she had no means of escape. 

The model finally picked up when the girls were on the road, his annoyance clear through the speaker.

“Don’t tell me you girls are already at the venue and some loser stole my role- the traffic here is mental!” Rose and Juleka hid their snickering at this. 

“What role? Adrien! We agreed to be backup dancers- what’s with you wanting to be Chat Noir now?” Marinette butted in, glaring at the phone despite the recipient not being able to see her face. 

“O-OH!? Morning Princess~”

“Don’t ‘Princess’ me you big, annoying, dummy-”

“Okay, Sweetcheeks it is then,”

“NO.”

“Sugarberry?”

“STOP.”

“But Darling~”

“ADRIEN!”

“Hey, now listen here. I didn’t do this on purpose ya know? I was all decked up and ready to be a backup dancer but Pere and Nathalie had other plans!”

“And you went along with it?” 

“They had to get the Gorilla to literally get me out of the house! Give me some credit here, Marinette!” Adrien groaned, slumping against his seat, knowing very well that his trio of guardians were all wearing matching grins under that poker face of theirs. 

“A-Ah, okay, so basically the same thing as me then, right?” Marinette almost felt bad for going off on him.

“Mmhm, besides,” 

“Oh?”

“I refuse to let any dumb boy take away MY woman.” Marinette could literally feel the cat radiating from him, annoyance pumping through her veins. Of COURSE he relents into his father’s whims due to jealousy! A tiny part of her brain was rather flattered, making her heart flutter but the raven haired girl immediately brushed those thoughts away. 

“You never really put up much of a fight after you found out I was gonna be forced to play Ladybug, right?” The baker girl’s tone was dry as hell. 

“Your point?” She couldn’t believe Adrien had the nerves to answer like that.

“YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR ASS AGRESTE! COS WHEN I’M THROUGH WITH YOU-”

“Oh please do be gentle~”

“ADRIEN!?”

“Love ya~~~mwah!” With a triumphant grin, Adrien hung up the phone. He knew very well of how much trouble he’s in but he’ll focus on that hurdle when it comes to it. Gabriel and Nathalie only eyed the teen incredulously, the former pinching the bridge of his nose. Why oh why is his son like this…?

Both cars simultaneously arrive at the venue, making Adrien realise how much danger he’s in. He could literally feel Marinette’s rage seeping out of the car. Nathalie pretty much kicked him out so that he can face his responsibilities. Both he and Mari have a stare off- the latter itching to throttle him whilst the boy whistles innocently. 

Marinette doesn’t get a chance to drag Adrien away as they’re both led into the venue by their peers, finally seeing people trying out the superhero roles. It was then that Adrien recalled why he and Mari settled to be backup dancers in the first place.

“Oh shit…” Adrien finally uttered when a boy slipped on the Chat Noir mask. His eyes then drifted to Marinette, wincing at her pointed glare before averting his gaze again. He fucked up. Their identities are screwed! 

The duo were too preoccupied with their thoughts to process Clara’s enthusiasm and squeals, babbling about how they’ve been going through hundreds of candidates for hours. 

“Wait- how come those two get the role immediately? We don’t even know if they’re good enough!” One of the teens exclaimed, hands on hips and glowered. Clara sweatdropped at this. “We’ve been waiting here for ages! Is this all for nought?”

A light bulb appeared on both the secret heroes’ heads, both wearing a matching grin as they turned towards each other.

‘You thinking what I’m thinking?’

‘You bet so, Princess~’

‘Don’t call me Princess. I’m still mad at you.’

‘Oh boo…’

Marinette and Adrien were quick to agree with the teen, claiming how they should wait like everyone else so that there’s a fair chance without paying mind to Gabriel’s glares. The rest of the girls lined up for the backup roles, wishing the duo good luck whilst the adults were pulled away elsewhere. 

“Thank God…” Marinette sighed in relief. She vowed to give the teen an autograph the next time she’s transformed. The girl looped her arm through Adrien’s, both of them sticking with the Chat Noir line (the staff knew they were going to perform as a packaged deal so they didn’t necessarily have to wait separately). 

“You got a plan Bugaboo?” Adrien was met with a snort but all he did was roll his eyes fondly. “Aight, still mad, no nicknames. Got it,” With a smirk, he tried kissing her cheek to soften her up but his lips met her hand clasping his mouth instead, blocking him.

“Adrien…” The boy deflated at her disappointed tone. This is what he was worried about, disappointment. “Ugh- I can’t even be mad at you for long. We were both forced into this.” He almost perked up. “But you didn’t even attempt to sneak away when your father was distracted. You’re usually really good at that, dummy.” She playfully punched his shoulder.

“Forgive me?” Adrien’s eyes twinkled like a kitten. The aspiring designer found herself melting. 

The model considered her blush as a win, engulfing her in an ecstatic hug despite Mari trying her best not to care. 

‘They really do make a perfect Ladybug and Chat Noir…’ Clara mused at the front. She’ll endure another hour of the other candidates trying out the roles happily if it meant that she could get THOSE two in. 

Marinette’s plan involved not only losing the masks in the changing rooms but also messing up their try out as much as possible. The duo were also quite shocked to see Chloe audition and actually do a good job! As much as she’s a pain, that’s one less hurdle to jump over for them. However, Chloe’s attitude and rudeness really put Clara off so she didn’t make it through the auditions.

By the time it’s our superheroes’ turn, they put the plan to action. The masks were conveniently hidden away and the duo botched up everything they were meant to do for the auditions.

They clasped their hands like a handshake when asked to hold hands, they flopped on their faces after every acrobatic move, Adrien even fell off stage at one point, only bruising his knees and a blow to his pride. Clara and Gabriel didn’t give up on them; they found the masks and beckoned the duo to put them on.

We have the tense moment where time goes still as Marinette and Adrien eyes the masks in their hands. Silent apologies are given to each other as they slowly brought the masks closer to their faces. 

As per canon, Chloe barges in with the Mayor in tow, piles of paper in hand, claiming that Clara has no permission in shooting in France. The poor singer gets her mike thrown on the floor, much to Marinette and Adrien’s protests. Alya and co try to help Clara up but the singer runs off crying. Gabriel quietly shuffles inside one of the bathrooms, locking it and transforms into Le Papillon to akumatise the woman. 

Soon, Frightningale makes her debut, whipping everyone with her wand and turning them to statues if they didn’t sing in rhymes and dance. Marinette lures herself and Adrien into one of the changing caravans so that they can transform.

“Once again, Butterfly Breath and Little Miss Brat saved us. I thought they’re the villains as well,” Marinette hummed. 

“Hey.” Adrien flicked her nose softly. “Don’t be mean to Chlo’,” His shit eating grin only grew at Marinette’s gaping face.

“E-Excuse me!? Don’t be mean to the girl who made Clara Nightingale CRY-” She stopped mid rant and scoffed, refusing to play into anymore of the boy’s teasing. Tikki and Plagg floated out from Marinette’s twin ponytails, admiring their costumes once more. 

“You should really do something about your childhood friend, Adrien.” Tikki scolded.

“Hey! My kitten isn’t obliged to parent that bossy brat into a decent human being. He tried to anyways and it’s like she’s deaf to anything that’s humane!” Plagg countered back. The kwamis fell into an argument in a language that neither teens could understand. 

“I’ve reprimanded Chloe about her behaviour so many times, I’m starting to feel like a broken record. The more I tell her to stop, the worse she gets,” Adrien fiddled with the mask as a gloom settled in the vicinity. “Maybe she’s a lost cause…” The idea of losing hope in a friend he’s known since he was born was enough to have his chest tighten in pain. 

“Or maybe we’ll have to give her a wake up call.” Marinette suggested with a smile, laying a hand on his forearm. “This isn’t your fault. It’s her parents’ responsibility to discipline her- not you. From what I’ve seen, you’ve told her off more in a week than her father probably has in her entire lifetime. That’s better than nothing.”

“What’s the point if it doesn’t do shit?” 

“The point is that you’re trying, you’re doing your best. You’re doing what you can to help her rather than being a doormat or letting her walk over people in front of you. I don’t think you’ve realised that the torment she used to spread has lessened in school ever since you’ve arrived.”

“…” Adrien bit his lip before glancing back at Marinette, swiftly turning her around so that he could embrace her from behind. He rested his forehead on her shoulder and pressed her back into his torso. “If it weren’t for you in my life, I wouldn’t even be half the person I am now…thank you Marinette…”

All the words disappeared in her throat, face redder than a tomato. Marinette mustered the will to put her hand on his head and let her fingers comb through the tresses. 

“Where’s all this coming from?” The girl finally asked. 

“Nothing…just super grateful that you exist, Bug.” He slowly picked his head up and puckered his lips against her cheek with a pure, innocent, softness that could be rivalled by silk. Both of their hearts sped up in sync as they tried to decipher each others feelings. Is this just a grateful kiss?

Or…

Is it something more?

Feeling like her heart was about to burst out of her chest, Marinette promptly spun around to face Adrien and crashed her lips against his, pushing the boy against the wall. She was deaf to the kwamis’ sudden protests as they were pulled into the miraculouses, transforming the teens into their original suits.

Ladybug tugged and tugged on Chat Noir’s bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as both her slender hands cradled his face. The sweetness of their lips was a huge contrast of the ferocity and passion of their feelings, evidenced by the gasps they let out. 

She didn’t pull away, no. She kept going after his lips over and over again. His touch was like fire on her body and she was burning. 

“Mm- Bug…Mari…Hm- Marinette-” She cut him off with a kiss everytime he uttered a word. Chat Noir knew that if he were to die now, he’d die happily. Ravished and thoroughly kissed by the one he loves. When his Lady’s swollen lips trailed down his jaw, teeth barely grazing his skin, Noir gripped her shoulders and gently pushed her back. 

His entire face was flushed and his eyes were glazed, as if he was in a dream like state. He let out an exhale, leaning his forehead against hers when she wrapped an arm around his middle. From all their past experiences, Ladybug knew that his silence was due to embarrassment, especially when she took the reigns. She decided to put the nail in the coffin.

“I’d be nothing without you,” Ladybug whispered into Chat’s human ears, lips brushing the shell before skipping out of the van. A sly smirk escaped her when the sound of a body tumbling on the floor and a soft groan was emitted by the boy. 

“Hnnnn that girl is gonna be the death of me, godammit!” 

Just like canon, they attempted to fight Frightningale but ended up getting zapped by the whip. They sing and dance their way through, using the lucky charm to their advantage and even waltzing at some point (whether that was to deter the akuma or just an excuse to hold each other close, neither of them admitted). 

Once purified, Clara is quick to coo and thank the heroes, even flustering them when she mentioned how much of a cute married pair they are. The Heroine whispers an alternate plan for the video so that not only would Clara not get in trouble for shooting, there’d be a way to incorporate many people. Ladybug and Chat Noir are quick to leave when she asks how many kids they have and if their children had the same costumes as them.

The episode ends with the whole class watching the video at the library, commenting and cheering whenever one of them showed up. The video ends with Marinette wearing a Chat Noir mask and Adrien wearing a Ladybug pair. This gave Alya and the girls the opportunity to tease the lovebirds about their terrible auditions before the shooting. 

“You’re right! I’d make a terrible Ladybug. Besides, I think black is more of my colour, don’t you agree, Buggaboy?” Marinette teased, eating up the way Adrien’s cheeks reddened for a split second. He knew she was never going to let up the fact that he almost combusted on the spot when she wore his mask.

“Always knew you were a furry, Marichat,” He delivered with a wink, his ego boosted with the way everyone else burst into laughter despite Marinette’s incredulous disagreements. 

“I didn’t sign up for this! Hmmph! Not even the real Chat Noir would be this mean,” She blew a raspberry and crossed her arms, slouching on her seat. 

“You’re right, he’d treat you like the princess you are,” Adrien quickly swooped in, kissing her brow. The crease between her brows softened as a result and a light blush decorated her cheeks. They darkened when everyone else quipped with how ‘smooth’ or ‘cheesy’ Adrien was being. 

“Just get married already!” Kim sighed in mock disgust. “Your flirting has put all of ours combined to shame, Agreste,” 

“Wasn’t aware that you guys knew how to flirt,” The cheeky boy clicked his tongue, quickly darting off whilst his boy group gave chase (along with Alix). A few mock threats were heard before the noise faded away, out of the door.

“Think they’ll keep him alive, Mariboo~?” Alya nudged her best friend’s shoulder, stealing Adrien’s seat. 

“I think they’d do me a favour if they killed him.” Marinette huffed.

“You don’t mean tha-aaaaat,” 

“You’re right, I don’t,” Marinette dropped the hard to get act and squealed, the rest of the girls joining, huddling her into a group hug. 

THE END.

I HOPE THIS WAS AIGHT! 

[super-trouper]

WAYHAVEN WEEK 2020 DAY 2

Pairing: Nate/F!Detective (Amelia ‘Mia’ Kingston) Prompt: Feral/Tender  Note: I’m going to be taking so many creative liberties with the interpretation of these propmts lol, this is just the start of a series of reaches. 

--

Amelia is many things and she’s big enough to admit most of them aren’t exactly nice. From selfish to straight-up rude, she’s pretty sure she’s been called just about any insult under the sun and, like, she gets it, okay? She’s kind of a shit person and that’s okay. (She’s working on it, anyway. Sort of. Kinda.)

But her vices don’t just stop there, of course not; that would be too easy. No, instead she has to be impatient too and that along with her sheer refusal to follow rules means, unfortunately, that she’s also a terrible cook. It’s not a problem usually, but her own inadequacy is definitely annoying her today.

But here’s the thing, why the hell should she only add a pinch of salt? Who wrote that stupid recipe and why do they think they can tell her what to do? They can’t. A pinch of salt is simply not enough for all the food she’s thrown together in the pot and a few hours ago, she felt justified in adding more.

Now, sitting across of Nate at her tiny dining table, choking on all the flavours she’s managed to cram into a single bite, she feels less justified.

She lets out an annoyed sigh.

“I’m sorry, that’s shit.” The word ‘sorry’ doesn’t usually feature in her vocabulary but it’s Nate, and, well, she’s fucked up pretty bad; she feels that deserves making an exception.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he protests immediately and actually, she believes that. He’d definitely find a fancier, nicer way to say it. “It just has a lot of flavour.”

There it is, she thinks almost fondly, but then Nate smiles over at her and adds, “Kind of like you.”

In any other case, she would assume she’s just been insulted. When it comes to Nate, however, she’s pretty sure he doesn’t mean it as an insult. He’s much too nice for that, and even Amelia who’s so used to expecting the worst from people can’t bring herself to do that with him.

“Thanks, I guess. But you don’t have to worry about sparing my feelings or whatever, y’know? We can just order pizza.”

Nate shakes his head emphatically. “No, no, please. You've put time and effort into this meal, I would like to finish it.”

She throws him a sceptical look. “Really? Like, all of it?”

“All of it.” And she watches with furrowed brows as he willingly takes another bite of his food, chewing for some time before smiling encouragingly at her and adding, “The meat is very tender!”

“Tender,” she repeats, unimpressed. “That’s the best you can come up with.”

“It’s also very… fiery.”

She holds back a wince at that; it’s possible that in a fit of inspiration and creativity she might’ve gone a bit overboard with the spices as well. But honesty is hard, even with Nate, and in comparison, flirtation is much easier. So she lets a smirk spread on her lips as she leans forward to rest an elbow on the table and props her chin up on her hand.

“Let me guess. Fiery, kind of like me.”

Nate raises an eyebrow, but it doesn’t take long for him to respond in kind; it’s one of the things that draw Amelia most to him, his ability to just adapt to whatever she throws at him. “Precisely like you. Fiery, spicy, with a certain… bite to it.”

She can’t help her snort. “That was such a line. But go on, finish your ‘tender’ chicken, Casanova, and then we can see about dessert.”

He chuckles in response and goes to take another bite. Amelia, meanwhile, just watches him; she has no intention at all of eating the abomination on her plate, and she doesn’t have an amazing girlfriend whose feelings she doesn’t want to hurt either so she’s curious to see how far Nate will go in that regard.

“We could cook together someday,” he suggests once he’s swallowed down yet another bite. “Only if you’d like to, of course.”

“It’s a pass from me, man, sorry. I don’t really do the whole cooking thing.”

It takes a moment for her to realise why Nate suddenly smiles at her, so warm and fond, and once the realisation hits, she hurries to backtrack, “I mean, I totally cook all the time. I didn’t do all that just for you. It’s something I do. All the time.”

Nate, to his credit, doesn’t bat an eye. “Of course,” he agrees easily.

Amelia frowns at him, to which he just keeps smiling. It’s weird. He’s weird. Amelia may not be the best at the whole dating thing, but she doesn’t need to be; Nate is just too nice and perfect for her to understand anyway.

It’s a problem she’s never had with Bobby, her only other real ‘boyfriend’. With him, they were just assholes together, both perfectly aware of each other’s shitty attitude. And it worked. (Then again, did it really? Considering she can barely stomach talking to him now, Amelia’s inclined to think of their relationship as one big fat failure -- yet another reason she doesn’t really do dating.)

With Nate, though, it constantly catches her off-guard how nice he is for the sake of being nice and how much she feels for him already after knowing him for only half a year. It scares her.

“Mia?” he calls out and her eyes snap back to him. He’s looking at her, eyebrows furrowed in concern that still confuses a part of her. “Are you okay?”

It’s easy to wave a hand dismissively and turn to sarcasm. “Sure. Just tryna figure out if your vampire healing is gonna save you from all that poison I’m feeding you.”

That draws a chuckle out of him. “I assure you, I’m quite alright.”

“Oh, I’d say so.” She takes in the sight of him once again, notes the extra effort he’s put in for their date, and just as it had when she’d first opened the door, her heart speeds up.

Nate catches her gaze and she’s happy to see similar feelings reflected in his. “I believe you mentioned something about dessert?”

The horrendous meal remains forgotten for the rest of the evening, though Amelia doesn’t consider that a loss. In fact, if anything, it’s a sign that she absolutely shouldn’t, under any circumstances, be allowed inside of a kitchen, ever -- a sentiment Nate seems to find amusing as she tells him so later.

Regardless, a part of her is considering taking him up on that offer to cook together after all, but really, that doesn’t have much to do with cooking and everything to do with just spending time with Nate. And, well, if it means she gets to impress him with her improved cooking skills one day, that’s just a bonus.

--

Also inspired by this ask Sera answered ages ago:

If the detective was a bad cook, “N would eat [the meal] as best they could, but then also offer to cook together to help the MC improve their skills if they wanted to learn. If not, then they would suffer through the meals.”

@otomefandomevents

[astriiformes]

Thoughts on Narnia?

Oof, complicated. Largely for symbolic reasons but the darn thing’s an allegory so you know, that probably tracks.

Full disclosure, Narnia was my Absolute Favorite thing from ages probably, like, 6/7-9-ish. I re-read our copy of Voyage of the Dawn Treader (which was my favorite) so many times it fell apart and we had to find an identical copy to match the rest of our boxed set as a replacement, and the rest of the series over and over again as well. I was obsessed with Reepicheep especially, and he was the first fictional character I ever remember crying over. And the books were my first intro to fantasy, which is obviously a genre I took to hard, so I do owe them that. Even after I wandered into other interests, I thought pretty fondly of them. I loved the first movie adaptation, then ripped into the Prince Caspian one, then like Dawn Treader a bit better, I dressed up as Lucy for Halloween, I put Narnia quotes up in my room and wove myself elaborate metaphors about how they represented life and faith-based stuff for me, I read biographies of CS Lewis, you name it. Not all at once, mind you, I certainly had lots of other interests in that period, but it was just one of those things for me that I came back to again and again and felt was a formative/cornerstone piece of fiction for me.

For reasons I won’t really go into though, I had a pretty messy falling out with Christianity in late high school (which, as is probably clear from the fact that I was a big Narnia kid, had been a huge part of my life before -- I was raised very Evangelical, so much so that most of my friends nowadays are pretty baffled by the childhood I talk about when it comes up). And it wasn’t like all the culturally Christian or even really overtly Christian ideas/media that I still had a fondness for soured for me overnight, but it’s been a letting go process as I realize that the stuff they represent for me is a lot more complicated.

And I wouldn’t say I hate it now or anything. But it feels like something that an entirely different me loved, and that the current one has no connection to at best and at worst sees as a part of a mourning process for a version of myself that doesn’t exist anymore. Sometimes I find myself having really strong feelings about it for different reasons now -- the biggest one being the way people talk about Susan, probably unsurprisingly. I can’t listen to any analysis of her arc that ignores the fact that, first and foremost, she was written as an allegory for people leaving the Church, not like, just an example of sexism or something. People trying to turn it into anything else is just one of those bad pop culture takes that consistently bothers me (although, not coincidentally, it’s also of of the main reasons I cry my eyes out any time I hear someone sing Wicked Girls live). But as that probably evidences, it’s not a story I can ever distance from the authorial intent, and to me is always going to be emblematic of parts of my past I’ve left behind

That might be more than you were asking for, haha, this is just one of those topics for me. I don’t talk about religion all that much here, so I imagine a lot of people probably didn’t have all the background for my thoughts. To be entirely honest, I’ve been in a really complicated place spiritually since late high school. And I’ve finally gotten to a place where I think I know what to do with that by looking at a different option, which is nice. But it also tells me -- and this is probably the best way I can summarize my feelings about the books -- that even if I’ve got some nostalgia tied to the series and its place in my childhood, the end of my story doesn’t involve going back to Narnia

[abbybubbls]

An original story? From ME? More likely than you’d think!

I wrote an original thing that isn’t fanfiction for once!

This is from a story I’ve made called “The Elf and the Princess”. An elf named Deedee is training to be a part of the royal guard, and is madly in love with the princess Eliza. One day, Eliza supposedly gets kidnapped by her own pet dragon, and Deedee has to find her.

This little thing I wrote is when Deedee finally finds Eliza, and they both discuss why Eliza actually WANTED to run away with her dragon, because the people in her kingdom are scared and hate dragons in general.

No time for dillydallying, now read the story already!!

The Elf and the Princess - Reevaluating Some Options Here

Deedee walked to the center of the bedroom while the princess paced. “You can’t just stay in this tower and expect everyone to forget about you.”

     “This isn’t about me, Deedee,” Eliza almost snapped.

     “Eliza, you’re the princess of a kingdom,” Deedee said. “You have huge shoes to fill for the future, and you’re just gonna leave them for your dragon?”

     “If that’s what I have to do in order to keep Viper safe,” Eliza declared with sincerity, but a slight hesitancy in her voice. “then yes.”

     “I… see…” Deedee mumbled. She looked at the princess who was still pacing back and forth. She held a glance out the window - which was really just a huge broken gap in the wall - to watch the sunset outside. It was already getting so dark so quickly. Another day passed, and no princess has returned to the kingdom like Deedee promised herself.

The blue elf gazed back at the princess, seeing her hands fidget and cling onto each other nervously.

     “Eliza, please,” Deedee’s voice was calm. “we really need you back home.”

     “If I go back there with Viper, everyone will kill her,” Eliza said, clenching her fists. “No one will let me explain why I wanted to leave.”

Deedee smiled sympathetically. “You’re the heir to the throne, of course everyone will listen to you.”

     “That’s not true!” Eliza yelled, making Deedee step back a bit. “Nobody ever listened to what I had to say when it came to Viper! Not even my father would trust me with her!”

     “He never means it in a bad way,” Deedee stated. “Dragons have very natural instincts and could be very dangerous-”

     “But Viper isn’t!” Eliza gestured to the backyard of the tower, where the huge lime green and blue dragon slept peacefully on top of dead grass. She nuzzled herself into the soft ground, rolling over and exposing her soft underbelly. “She doesn’t have any natural instincts! And she certainly isn’t dangerous to the kingdom!”

Deedee bit her lip. “Why couldn’t your father just… make a public statement about her, telling everyone she isn’t?”

She then regretted asking that question.

     “He hates dragons, Deedee!” Eliza exclaimed. “He couldn’t say anything positive about them, even if he tried!”

Deedee grew quiet as she looked back at the dragon outside, who looked so serene in her sleep. Her shoulders heaved as she let out a sigh, and she turned back to Eliza.

     “All I will say is this,” she started. “I came all the way out here to find you and bring you back home. It can’t be for nothing.”

Eliza’s curly brown hair covered her face as Deedee spoke.

     “If you stay here, and nothing changes… then you’re going to be responsible for everything.”

Deedee felt something wrong churn in her heart as she said that. She couldn’t tell if it was sadness or regret, or something even worse.

     “We need to find a compromise to this,” she finished quietly, and Eliza looked up at her.

Eliza had a long and sad frown that Deedee absolutely hated seeing on her face. Deedee wanted to take all that away from her. She wanted to make it go away.

Eliza took a deep breath and sighed, and she held onto her soft plump arms. “It’s funny. I’ve been thinking about this whole conversation ever since I came here.”

Deedee blinked at that. “This exact conversation we’re having right now?”

     “Not exactly,” Eliza said. “but close enough. I’ve just been thinking about how running away with Viper wouldn’t necessarily… fix everything.”

Deedee paid close attention to the princess, like she always has.

     “I mean,” Eliza started. “sure, Viper would be safe from anyone who assumes she’s a threat, but…”

She looked to see Viper still asleep outside. “She doesn’t know anything about other dragons, or anything about the outside world. She’s a rare kind of dragon that adapts to how she was treated from where she hatched.”

     “And she hatched in your bedroom,” Deedee uttered.

Eliza bit her lip. “Yeah…”

     “You just wanted to be with her to keep her company?” Deedee asked.

     “Not only that,” Eliza replied. “I promised to stay with her because she can’t adapt to new places. She physically can’t learn like a regular dragon can. I literally had to teach her how to fly. You would know, you were there.”

Deedee was right next to Eliza every time she’d attempt to teach. She looked back at it fondly.

     “Has there ever been another dragon out there that came up to Viper?” Deedee asked. “Maybe there could be some kind of instinct where dragons can help each other.”

Eliza raised a finger, and left her jaw hanging. She closed her mouth, and looked down at the floor.

     “There is,” she said, almost mumbling. “There is an instinct.”

     “Oh!” Deedee grinned encouragingly. “Maybe we could try that!”

Eliza fell quiet, and Deedee’s smile faded just as she noticed.

     “What is it?” she asked.

Eliza heaved out a sigh. “Well… I’d obviously have to leave her if another dragon comes along and helps her out.”

     “So…?” Deedee’s hand gently placed on Eliza’s shoulder.

     “So…” Eliza paused. “I don’t know. I guess I can’t promise anything.”

Deedee frowned with the princess. “So you’re basically saying it’s not a sure thing, but there’s a chance?”

     “I don’t know,” Eliza repeated. “Maybe.”

She glanced out of the ‘window’, as did Deedee. Stars were already coming out. Eliza held her gaze outside, and trailed down to Viper.

Deedee stared intently into Eliza’s eyes underneath her hair. “Are you alright?”

Eliza heaved another sigh and closed her eyes. She walked past Deedee to stand on the edge of the gap in the wall. “I honestly don’t know anymore.”

Deedee walked right next to Eliza, but didn’t say anything. She honestly couldn’t come up with anything if she tried.

     “I knew all of this was a bad idea,” Eliza said, mostly to herself. Deedee spotted her fists clenching at her sides. “With this one decision I’ve made, I’ve ruined everything.”

Eliza suddenly had a new lump in her throat. “I wish… I wish I never loved dragons.”

God forbid Viper heard that. Deedee gently took another step closer to Eliza.

     “You don’t mean that,” she said.

     “I do mean it,” the princess continued, her voice raising with emotion. “I should have listened to my father, I never should have ran away, or let you give me Viper when she was an egg! I never should have kept that dragon book hidden!”

     “That was years ago…” Deedee said quietly.

     “It doesn’t matter!” Eliza yelled. “Everything I’ve done, every decision I made for Viper, it- it’s all wrong! I never want to feel this guilty ever again!”

     “All because you love dragons so much?” Deedee asked, raising her voice over Eliza’s, which was a rarity for her to do. Even Eliza was surprised that she closed her mouth to look at Deedee. No going back now.

Deedee placed her hands on Eliza’s shoulders, and she spoke steadily. “Eliza, if there was a way to make that wish to never love dragons come true. That would be a huge and important part taken away from you.”

     “I know,” Eliza’s voice cracked. “but… I don’t know how to make everything better. I don’t know how to fix this.”

     “Well,” Deedee tilted her head. “what do you want to happen?”

Eliza took a deep breath, her eyes frantically looking around. “I… I don’t… I want… I want everything to just… go back to the way they were.”

     “You want everyone to go back to fearing and threatening Viper?” Deedee asked.

     “No,” Eliza answered quickly. Her face softened. “But… I can’t just abandon my kingdom like this. It’s such a selfish thing for me to do.”

Eliza looked down at the edge of the gap, and she slowly sat herself down, with her gown poofing up against her chest. Deedee promptly followed.

     “Again, though,” Eliza continued. “everybody hates Viper because she’s a dragon, but she has no knowledge on how to be one.”

Deedee looked into Eliza’s eyes, listening to every lingering word.

     “I know for a fact that no matter how hard I try,” the princess’ hair fell over her face again. “Nobody would ever listen to me if I explained.”

She finally fell silent, with her hands on her lap. Deedee sat still and reached her hand out. She cupped Eliza’s cheek to make her turn to look at her, while pushing some locks of hair away from her face.

     “Not everybody,” Deedee said. Eliza’s eyes widened, with a hint of pink in her cheeks as she looked back into the blue elf’s eyes.

And then Eliza smiled. That same smile that Deedee has always adored from her. The same smile that could make the sweetest dimples on her cheeks. Deedee couldn’t help but do it back.

Then, Deedee spotted a bit of red in Eliza’s hair. She sat back to take a better look, and she grinned.

     “You kept the tulip in your hair,” she said.

Eliza chuckled lightly. “Obviously, you gave it to me. It really meant a lot to me.”

She glanced down to see a tiny bright pink heart dangling on a thin chain around Deedee’s throat, its pink colors contrasting Deedee’s usual green and brown clothes. Eliza’s face immediately lit up. “And you’re still wearing the necklace!”

Deedee’s grin widened.

     “Obviously,” she repeated Eliza’s phrasing. “you gave it to me.”

Deedee held onto the heart of the necklace by her chest, while Eliza held up the tulip in her hair. The elf and the princess looked at each other in the eyes. The wind carried the sounds of birds and the chirping of insects, and the breeze was cool. Deedee cupped Eliza’s cheek again as their hands met.

     “It…” Deedee’s face felt warm as she and Eliza’s faces grew closer. “Really meant… a lot to me.”

Eliza closed the distance between them, and their lips met for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

With the moonlight shining on the two of them, Eliza’s free hand went into Deedee’s messy raven hair, as Deedee wrapped her free arm around Eliza’s back. Eliza deepened the hug and kiss, leaning into Deedee’s warmth, away from the edge.

The both of their hearts skipped a beat as they embraced. For just a little bit, everything was better. Everything else will be figured out in the morning. For now, Deedee and Eliza will be fine.

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Reblogs and likes are always appreciated! - Abby 💗