#maybe some lukas deal is forcing his hand to do nothing
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[From MAG 92]
Elias (Statement): -if I leave a letter here, in your institute, you might find it, you might be able to save me. I have no other hope. I have no other hope. Please, Jonah, if you have any compassion within your heart, you will not leave me in this place. Your loyal servant, Barnabas.
Elias: Jonah Magnus did leave him in that place, Jon. He got the letter, oh yes, and was on good terms with Mordechai Lukas. He could have interceded, perhaps even saved him, but he did not. And it was not out of malice, or because he lacked affection for Barnabas Bennett: he retrieved those bones sadly enough when the time came. Bones that you can still find in my office, if you know where to look.
No, it was because he was curious. Because he had to know, to watch and see it all.That’s what this place is, Jon, never forget it. You may believe yourself to have friends, to have confidantes, but in the end, all they are is something for you to watch, to know, and ultimately to discard.
[From MAG 159]
Jon: Martin. He’s gone, Martin. He – he’s gone.
Martin: His only wish was to die alone.
Jon: Tough. Now – listen to me, Martin. Listen.
Martin: Hello, Jon.
Jon: Listen, I know you think you want to be here, I know you think it’s safer, and well – well, maybe it is. But we need you. I need you.
Martin: No, you don’t. Not really. Everyone’s alone, but we all survive.
Jon: I don’t just want to survive!
Martin: I’m sorry.
Jon: Martin. Martin, look at me. Look at me and tell me what you see.
Martin: I see…
I see you, Jon.
I see you.
Jon: Martin.
Martin: I… I was on my own. I was all on my own.
Jon: Not anymore. Come on. Let’s go home.
Martin: How?
Jon: Don’t worry. I know the way.
[CLICK]
End Transcript
Going insane about this for a multitude of reasons
#firstly i love how jon disregarding the one piece of 'advice' elias gives him leads him to the last step needed for the ritual#like. mmm the flavor of tragedy#second and more the main point I think it shows the main difference between Jonah and Jon#the two scenarios are SO unbelievably similar w/ a lukas a lonely victim and an eye person w/ the ability to free the lonely victim#the big difference is Jonah is willing to toss those around him to put himself up top#to be just a watcher#while jon goes in there and is not willing to let those he loves go#i don't doubt jonah saying he actually did care about barnabas actually#i thoroughly believe he did#he just didn't love him *enough* to do anything else other than watch#this is elias so everything he says is subject to at least two tablespoons of salt#maybe some lukas deal is forcing his hand to do nothing#but i don't think he'd keep barnbas' bones just for fun it seems terribly impractical#also the fact Jonah said that Jon is just meant to watch and see *others*#while in 159 jon let martin see *him*#like KJDNFIUSKDJ#tma#JMart#Jon Sims#Martin Blackwood#Elias Bouchard#MAG 92#MAG 159#MAG 92 an MAg 159 parallels my beloved#anyone who wants to ask me more about my thoughts about the gang pls don't hesitate to ask fjghfg
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Thanks. I should be there in five minutes.
The reply came a few seconds later.
Okay! I'll keep an ear out for you!
Near the end of those five minutes, Luka was still dashing down the sidewalk, mentally cursing himself for daring to almost be late. They didn't have any particular plans and he'd only really said it as a guess that didn't mean much, but he could just imagine Marinette standing by the door with her hearing trained intensely on it.
It would've been cute if he wouldn't have felt bad for it.
He knew it wasn't technically his fault. He'd nearly been recognized and she tended to be his safe place to go to, but then most of the detours he knew of had him running into more risk. Hiding his hair and the lower half of his face apparently weren't enough anymore to stop people from doing a double take at him.
Maybe he'd been in this place for too long on his break, but she was there. He simply didn't want to leave, not if it meant losing the "rock star's safe haven," as he called it in his head.
Footsteps still pounding as he ran, he was within arm's reach of the door when it flew open. Without a word, he slipped inside and Marinette shut it behind him. He let himself breathe, pushing his hood up and pulling his face mask down.
Sighing in relief, he said, “You're a lifesaver, as always,”
She laughed him off. “You don't have to go that far.”
“But I do,” he replied. “You're risking a lot letting me hide here. If anyone finds out you're doing it—”
“Stop.“ She raised a hand, turning her face away from him with a faint blush. “It's really not a big deal.”
He pouted a bit, but let the praise go for the time being. He understood, on some level, that she'd done it before for other famous people she knew (the people he'd have to thank if he ever met them, since it led to him meeting her), but it didn't make it any less special.
Not to him, anyway.
Marinette, strolling across the room and waving a hand at all the seating in the living room, asked without looking back at him, “You want any snacks?”
Any kind of food sounded good after the running he did. “Please. Anything's fine.”
As she left the room, he went and plopped himself down on the recliner, going about removing the hoodie he'd been using to keep himself hidden. He also took off the face mask entirely and set them both neatly on the table.
She returned from the kitchen a moment later, tossing a bag of chips at him and sitting down on the couch with one of her own. She popped it open, then hesitated before asking him, “Do you like soup?”
He nodded impulsively, though he honestly was neutral to it overall. “Why?”
“I was gonna make some later, and I—” She made an unreadable gesture. “—I bought too many ingredients when I was at the store, so there'd be leftovers if you didn't have any.”
Huh. Luka didn't doubt that she could've made a mistake on her mental shopping list, but more of all of her ingredients sounded too odd to be a mistake. He could've sworn as well that she'd told him how much she didn't like leftovers, back when she'd ramble about her creative process and forcing herself to take a break by cooking or baking something everyday.
Unless, of course, Marinette had intentionally prepared to make more because of him, in which case he wasn't lying anymore about liking soup.; it just so happened to have shot up on his list of appealing foods all of a sudden.
“We can't have that,” he said with a grin, opening the chip bag in his hands. “Do you mind me staying that long?”
“Not at all!” she insisted. She dug into her own bag and pulled out a single chip, telling him before she put it in her mouth, “Besides, I want to catch up. Have you come up with any new music?”
“No—” He caught himself, realizing it was the instinctive answer he'd been giving to anyone involved with his rock star life, then corrected to, “Nothing I want out there.”
“Oh.” She leaned back, thoughtful. “I get it. Sometimes I make something just for me without wanting to put it out there. I didn't know it worked the same for music.”
He tried not to be obvious about the hearts in his eyes he was throwing her way. She just got him so easily and he did the same for her. He didn't have that many creative people in his life, but even those he did have saw creativity as something so casual. He cared dearly for his sister's wife, for example, yet knew that the finer nuances of creating things went over her head.
Marinette hummed, somewhat disconcerted. “You're not in any... trouble, are you?” She pouted, twisting a corner of the chip bag to the point it formed wrinkles. “I know how much people think we can just rush the process.”
He smiled, appreciating the concern, and shrugged at her. ”They do want me to get back out there, but I'm not going to force it.”
There was a flicker of what he was fairly sure was disappointment in her eyes when he mentioned touring again. He didn't comment on it, but silently hoped he'd caught it correctly and it wasn't just him.
Reaching into his bag for a few chips, he took one between his lips and tipped his head back, opening his mouth to send the chip fully in from the momentum. He chewed, swallowed, then gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Or maybe I'll just retire.”
“Wha—?” Marinette was so shocked that her tightened grip on the bag audibly crushed a couple of poor chips. “Retire?”
Luka had never said it aloud to anyone before, but he had been thinking about it for a few months now. At first, it was more like a joke to himself, an amusing musing on if he did quit and how much chaos that would've spread across the world from the suddenness of it. Then, it became more serious the more he joked about it, thinking about how free he would be and how much he wouldn't have to wither away like whenever he was forced to make something he genuinely wasn't invested in. He thought it would be easier when he initially started out, that he could just create and wouldn't have to bear witness to parts of himself he didn't like.
In what should've been obvious to him, it hadn't ended up that way. He glanced over to check Marinette's reaction and, rather than any displeasure with the idea, she appeared sad for him.
“I didn't know it was that bad,” she admitted. “I thought you just didn't like people recognizing you in your off time.”
“I don't, but it's everything else too,” he explained. Giving her a reassuring smile, he added, “And you couldn't have known. I've never told anyone else before.”
Her cheeks turned to his favorite shade of pink. She averted her eyes to her chips, taking another couple into her mouth and chewing them as she thought over what he'd said. Letting out a small, puzzled noise in the back of her throat, she finally asked the obvious, “Why haven't you yet? Retired, I mean.”
He'd finished the other chips in his hand by then and set the bag aside to focus fully on her. “I... don't have that many places to go. I live on my own, so it'd be hard to not go out. I'd just get recognized all over again, and my sister's famous and married, so I can't stay with her while I wait for everything to die down.”
As much as he would've liked it to be simple, it wasn't. Also, while he wouldn't have told Marinette as much directly, he wouldn't have wanted to give up on their time together. It might've been a little selfish of him, but—
“What if you stayed with me?” she blurted out, turning her body and leaning onto the arm of the couch to face him.
He opened his mouth, almost instantly saying “yes,” but stopped himself to ask, “...What?”
She pushed against the couch with the hand not holding her bag of chips, straightening herself back up and awkwardly elaborating, “Because—well, you already come here? It's already safe, and if you were okay with it then why not, right? I won't bring anyone here either, so...”
“Wait,” he interrupted because, as fast as his heart was pounding at the opportunity, he wouldn't dare risk holding her back in any way. “I don't want you to stop yourself from bringing someone home just for my sake.”
“Huh?” She blinked at him, as if he'd somehow misunderstood whatever she'd been trying to say. Then, wide-eyed and blushing deeper, she shook her head. “No, it's—I meant... I'm not going to bring anyone anyway. That's why it's alright.”
A beat of silence passed between the both of them. Luka knew from all the little moments when Marinette had spoken about romance that she wasn't aromantic, nor had she ever talked about giving up on love entirely, yet she seemed certain that he wasn't going to end up as a third wheel in her house.
He considered asking, considered multiple possibilities without assuming anything specifically, but she bounced up from the couch before he could get anything out.
“O-oh wow! I should really get started on that soup and, ah—don't worry, you don't have to give me an answer right now!” She turned away swiftly, took a few steps, then paused and looked at the chip bag in her hand. Without glancing back, she tossed the bag towards him and offered, “You can finish that if you want.”
He caught it with both hands and watched her go. After she'd disappeared from his view and into the kitchen, he let his eyes drop to the bag, seeing the chips and the crumbled pieces from when she'd gripped it earlier.
Despite that, his own bag didn't look as appetizing anymore, so he plucked a single, broken chip and slipped it between his lips. His mind was already conjuring scenarios in his head without any effort on his part, imagining what it might be like if he actually lived with her instead of just visiting.
He could still make money with music so long as he could do it without showing his face, thus there wasn't much worry about not being able to pay for his staying there. He was certain that Marinette would give him the guest room, and then they'd end up spending their mornings together. He could find ways to lessen her stress or help out around the house, and he would be there whenever she came home after going out.
To say it was tempting was an understatement. Even the clamor of pots, pans, and the openings of the fridge and cupboards as she shuffled about for her ingredients was like music to his ears.
Swallowing the half chip and finding that it suddenly tasted sweet going down, he thought to himself, No excuse anymore, Couffaine.
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High Priest, Pt. 2
From “The Many Akumatizations of Luka Couffaine.”
The class was, for the most part, silent.
No one knew what to feel after yesterday, Juleka included. It was… Everything was fine, they were all hanging out, and then Lila mentioned that Marinette got out of trouble for bullying her, which was horrible, and… and…
Juleka didn’t know who pushed Marinette. She just knew that someone did. No one goes from backing away from a hoard of angry teenagers to crumpled at the bottom of concrete stairs by the Seine by yourself. And then Lila had said,
“Wow, I can’t believe she’s faking being hurt. She has a lot of nerve after pushing me down the stairs. I didn’t make such a big deal out of it.”
And they all just left her.
But Marinette wasn’t faking. She’d seen it in Luka’s face when her parents had called him, saying that Marinette was in the hospital and that he needed to come, as her boyfriend (her boyfriend, Luka was her boyfriend, when Lila had told them Marinette had bullied her because of Marinette’s jealousy over how close she and Adrien were-). And now…
And now…
The class was silent.
Who was the guilty one, Juleka wondered. Not Lila, she had stood at the back of the group while they accosted Marinette. Not Adrien, who hadn’t gotten involved and hadn’t defended Marinette, a true neutral that wasn’t neutral at all. Not Chloe, who wasn’t even there and chatted away with Sabrina without a care in the world, unknowing or uncaring about their hospitalized friend. But Alya, but Nino, but Kim, but anyone…
There was a murderer among them.
A sharp trill of their phones went off, all of them at once. The akuma alert. Alya, who already had her phone out, was the first to shout. “There’s an akuma at Arc Hospital!”
Juleka paled. (“I’m going to Arc Hospital! Tell mom not to wait for me!”)
“Apparently it can transform the environment,” Alya gushed, like her best friend wasn’t in danger. No one noticed Adrien leaving with a rushed excuse about the bathroom - they were all used to his weak bladder by now. “That’s so cool! I’ve never seen an akuma do that before!”
“There might be a sentimonster along with it,” Nino pointed out. “Maybe on the hospital itself, and that’s why it transformed.”
“Oh, that makes more sense!” Alya replied, already packing up her bag. “I’m going to head to the sight; someone has to document the akuma!”
“I’ll go with you,” Nino said.
The two were heading out the door, nothing too different, when Lila spoke up, shakily raising her hand. “C-Can I come too?” she asked. “It’s just… I’ve been so worried about Ladybug lately; akuma’s have been getting a lot stronger, so I just thought that I could be there for her, cheer her on?”
Alya looked nervous. “Well, actually-”
“That’s a great idea!” Rose gushed, like they didn’t have a friend in that specific hospital. “I’m sure Ladybug will defeat the akuma with her best friend by her side!”
“Yeah!”
“Hey, we should go too!”
“Ladybug will certainly feel empowered if an entire class cheers her on!”
“Sure. She’ll probably end up needing Queen Bee, if the akuma is that powerful.”
We shouldn’t do that, Juleka tried to say, only for the words to get stuck in her throat. Did they see that they were putting themselves in danger, potential hostages for the akuma? But no, they were blind. Lila led them like lemmings, encouraging them, saying “Yes, of course Ladybug would love that, we should all go!”
That’s how, despite her instincts, Juleka was forced into going to ground zero. At least she wasn’t the only one disliking the situation. Both Alya and Nino looked put out for some reason, and Chloe was just unhappy in general.
The hospital had been transformed into a temple. “Aztec,” Rose whispered as they all stared up at the pyramid. “It looks… like those pictures from that research project Luka was doing.” Juleka nodded and suddenly had a horrible feeling about who exactly the akuma was. The stone looked rough, the mica a sandy-grey. Pictographs were carved into the stone, unlike any Juleka had ever seen, with each image growing more and more graphic in violence as the class climbed the pyramid together. They all… looked like people, she noticed.
The truly concerning factor, however, was the group of people that gathered at the bottom of the pyramid as the class trekked upward. But no one else set foot on the temple. They were utterly alone.
There was only one entrance into the temple, a wide, gaping mouth of a door. Fire flickered inside the opening. Alya gave a shaky smile as she readied her camera. “Well, I guess we’re expected, right guys?” Her attempt at a joke fell flat as the class inched into the temple.
The inside was covered in carvings, intricate and beautiful, painted and bright. Most of them depicted a beautiful dark-haired woman with a crescent moon on her forehead being worshiped. Was she the akuma? Some woman with a god-complex that turned the hospital into… this? Torches lined the walls, throwing dark shadows across the paintings. “They look like they’re moving,” Nathaniel whispered, enthralled as the class spread out, everyone looking around the interior.
Alix frowned. “It doesn’t look very Aztec to me.”
At the center of the room was a glass altar. Or, more accurately, as Juleka approached it, a glass coffin. The frosted glass concealed the content’s identity at a distance, but up close, Juleka realized it was… “Marinette?”
That got everyone’s attention. Shocked gasps and exclamations filled the room. Alya pushed her way to the front. “What? No, it can’t be…”
Nino looked at the coffin nervously. “She can’t be akumatized, can she?”
“Of course not!” Alya spat back, coming to the defense of her comatose best friend. “She’s too strong to-”
Lila clung to Alya, cutting her off. “She was probably so upset that I revealed she was bullying me!” She wailed, the sound grating in the echoing expanse of the hall. “Oh, it’s all my fault that Marinette finally got akumatized!” For a moment, Juleka thought Lila sounded… vindicated? What?
“Cease your lies, Defiler of this hallowed place. -A strong, male, familiar voice boomed out, seemingly from nowhere-“Lest your accursed tongue wound the ears of our slumbering Goddess.”
From the shadows immerged a blue figure, dressed like a stereotypical Aztec priest. His skin, mostly his bare chest and face, was covered in black tattoos, like the line of triangles under his left eye and over his right. He wore a large, jeweled necklace that sparkled in the fire light, and feathers, dark blue and pink, trailed out of his short hair and down his back, past the linen skirt he wore to cover his modesty.
It was obvious at first glance that the akuma was Luka.
What was also obvious was the large, ceremonial knife in his hand.
“Rejoice, heretics, non-believers, and renouncers of the faith,” the akuma said, looking down on their class with cold rage. “The day has come at last to join our Goddess in everlasting peace at her side. For I, the High Priest, have been given the sacred duty of awakening the Goddess of the Moon, the Melody of all Hearts, the Ever-Resting Queen… and it is with your blood that she will live again.”
Rose trembled at Juleka’s side. “Our… blood?” she whispered.
“Correct.” He could hear them, oh no, oh no… “Either through service or sacrifice, it matters little to me. Though my Goddess may wish for you to bleed through service, I care not so long as the blood is taken.”
“You…” Alya growled, then snapped, pointing at the High Priest. “Ladybug and Chat Noir will defeat you and save Marinette, you fiend. And if you think any of us are joining you, you’ve got another thing coming!”
“So, you have chosen death.” The room grew darker, the torches dimming. The High Priest’s eyes glowed neon blue. “Then may my Goddess have mercy on your fleeting soul…
“For I will have none.”
Taglist: @larasilvestris @vixen-uchiha
#lukanette#yandere luka couffaine#lila salt#class salt#ml salt#akuma luka#villain luka#original akuma#luka couffaine#the many akumatizations of luka couffaine#juleka couffaine#miraculous ladybug#mlb#miraculous fanfiction
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Red-Faced and Running Away (Luka Couffaine x Reader)
Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
Pairing: Luka Couffaine x fem! Reader
Your head nodded along with the music coming from your ear buds. It was the music from one of the coolest people in your school (aside from Adrien, but he's a couple years below so that doesn't count). Luka Couffaine.
"Hey (y/n), (y/n). (y/n)!" a hand tapped you on your shoulder and you jolted to look at the person who was trying to get your attention.
"Oh hey (f/n)." You pulled the ear buds off, "what's up?"
(f/n) smiled slyly at you, "are you listening to a certain blue haired boy's music."
"So what if I am?" you retorted.
"Hey Luka!" (f/n) shouted and waved a hand to get said person's attention.
"What are you doing?" you hissed and grabbed onto (f/n)'s hand to stop them from waving it around. They just ignored your protest and waved with their other hand.
Luka noticed and started to walk over to the two of you, "hey guys. What's up?"
"(y/n) was just listening to your music, and she was just telling me how awesome your music was. Right?" (f/n) looked at you and nudged your shoulder.
"Eep." You declared and hid behind (f/n).
Luka laughed, "well thanks for the support (y/n). I'm going to go hide from fangirls now if that's alright."
"Of course, see you later!" (f/n) waved and Luka disappeared to who knows where. "Girl!" (f/n) scolded and turned to you, "why are you hiding from him?"
"He's just so awesome! He's on an entirely different level from me. No way I could talk to a guy like him!" you explained.
"But he talked to you, so..."
"Let's just get to class." You turned away from her and hurried to your class.
(f/n) ran up next to you and sang in your ear, "(y/n) and Luka sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-"
"What are you, 10?" you demanded but your face was definitely a bit redder than it was before.
...
"Luka!" you and (f/n) were sitting down to eat lunch when (f/n) practically screamed Luka's name across the cafeteria.
"What are you doing?" you asked in a hushed panic, "you can't invite him! I turn into a nervous wreck every time I'm even near him!"
"Oh look, he's coming over." (f/n) smiled, "and it looks like he's bringing his food too."
"Hi (y/n), hi (f/n)." Luka greeted and sat down across from you, "how's your day been?"
You froze and you could definitely feel your face heat up, "I- excuse me." You stuttered before running out of the cafeteria.
"Does she hate me?" Luka asked (f/n) worriedly.
"Of course she doesn't," (f/n) reassured him, "she's just a blubbering adorable mess when you're around her."
Luka let out a small laugh, "cute."
...
It was after school and all you wanted to do was to go home and relax...and definitely ignore your homework for as long as possible. "Hey (y/n)!" your head jolted up as you heard your name be called. You looked around and your face almost paled when you realized it was Luka who was waving to get your attention.
"I, uh," you quickly turned away from him and ran down the street. Hopefully he didn't see you look back at him. You ran around the corner and hid against it, after a few moments of nobody running past the corner looking for you, you breathed a sigh of relief.
You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and you fumbled to get it out, it was (f/n), 'where are you!' the text read.
'Oops, I'm on my way home already.' You texted a reply as you carefully navigated yourself through the streets of Paris without hitting people.
'What? You ditched me! Do I smell a betrayal?'
'No! No! Of course not!' you sent a panicked text in reply, 'I'm just running away from Luka.'
'Why? You're going to scare him away!' you could practically see (f/n)'s chastising face.
'If anything, he's the one scaring me away!'
'Well don't! He likes you, so don't push him away! I know you like him back!' You froze. Did (f/n) mean what you thought she meant? Did Luka like you? As in more than a friend?
'Do you mean like-like or just like as a friend?' you had to confirm what they said. You refused to get your hopes up.
'I didn't say anything!'
'Uh...yeah you did, just look at the text message history. What are you hiding (f/n)?'
'Nothing! Listen I've got to go, talk to you later!'
'(f/n) wait! You can't just leave me hanging!' you let out a frustrated sigh as she stopped responding. They left you on 'read' for crying out loud. "Darn you (f/n)." You grumbled and kicked a can that was just lying on the ground, "getting my hopes up like that."
...
"You! Have some explaining to do!" you nearly shouted in (f/n)'s face the next day.
"What is it?" (f/n) asked nonchalantly as they ate a protein bar.
"You said Luka likes me?"
(f/n) choked on their protein bar and you were feeling merciless that morning, so you let them struggle without offering any help. "Um, no. I did not. Hey look there he is, why don't you just ask him yourself? Luka!" they shouted and once again you were in the situation as you attempted to stop their furious waving around to spare you some embarrassment.
"Oh my god (f/n)!" you whined and hid behind them, "spare me some embarrassment today!"
"Too late!" they whispered cheekily, "how are you today Luka?"
"Alright." He shrugged, "did you not hear me yesterday (y/n)?" he tried to lean around (f/n) to talk to you.
"No?" you squeaked before running away from (f/n) and Luka.
"And you're sure she likes me?" Luka asked dubiously as he watched you run away.
(f/n) nodded, "a hundred percent positive. She's just shy. Really shy."
"Luka!" there was another voice calling out his name and he tried to conceal a wince.
"More fangirls?" (f/n) asked.
Luka sighed, "wish me luck."
"Luck."
...
"I just came to a realization." You declared the moment (f/n) sat down next to you.
"That you like Luka back and are too scared to admit it?" (f/n) asked without missing a beat.
"Yes, but that's not the main thing."
"Okay-hold up!" they turned their entire body to look directly at you, "did you just verbally admit that you are head over heels in love with Luka Couffaine and that you are way to shy and scared to even talk to him let alone admit it to his face?"
You hesitated, "maybe? That's not what I want to talk about though!"
"Okay, I'm listening."
"Why does Luka spend so much time with us? He has hordes of other fangirls to deal with. He's practically a celebrity at our school!"
"Because he likes hanging out with us?" (f/n) turned away from you and mumbled something under their breath.
"Wait what did you say?"
"Nothing!"
"What is it!" you shouted and nearly grabbed their shoulders to shake them.
"I promised I wouldn't tell!"
"Promised who!"
"It's a secret!"
"Ugh!" you let yourself fall onto the desk in front of you.
"Just hear him out okay?" (f/n) looked at you consolingly, "he's been trying to talk to you for a reason."
"You know me, I'm too shy to talk to him." You whined.
"I will hold you by force if need be." (f/n) threatened, and you could tell by the steely glint in their eyes that they weren't joking.
"O-Oh. Okay."
"After school today, you have to promise me that."
You sighed, "I promise."
"Pinky promise?"
"What are you, ten?"
...
"Oh hey! There he is!" (f/n) brightened up as she saw the blue-eyed boy you were nervously avoiding for the past few days. They turned to you with a serious look on their face, "I am going to call him over and you are going to stay here. Got it?"
"Yup." You looked away from (f/n) and nervously shifted your weight.
"Luka!" (f/n) screeched and waved their hand around. To be honest, you were almost glad this whole thing was about to be over, you were tired of (f/n) screeching and waving and you running away. That didn't mean you were any less nervous to be around him. You were just looking forward to getting this over with.
Luka grinned as he walked over, "are you going to run away again (y/n)?"
"No." You muttered and looked at your feet who were urging to sprint in the other direction.
"Wait really?" you could hear shock and was that excitement (?) in his voice, "awesome!"
"(f/n) said you wanted to say something?" you were still forcibly making eye contact with the toes of your shoes.
"Yeah, so um." You heard him laugh nervously, "I think you're really cute (y/n)."
"Eh?" your head shot up to look at him. He didn't look like he was lying, and his face definitely looked a little redder than it normally did. Not that you were obsessively watching his music videos and watching his face whenever he appeared. Cough cough.
"Um," he coughed, "so, would you like to get some ice cream together?"
"Like a- are you? A? Friends? Date? Wha?" you stuttered out. Were you hearing this correctly? Did your celebrity crush just tell you that you were cute and asked you to get ice cream together?
"Yeah like a date." He avoided looking at you and fixated his gaze on the concrete next to you.
"This is the part where you say yes!" you heard a hushed yell behind you and whipped around to see (f/n) hiding in the bushes.
"Wait-how did you get there? When did you get there?"
"Just say yes you dork!"
"Uh," you hesitated and looked back at Luka, "sure."
"Really?" his face brightened as he looked away from the ground back to you.
You smiled, his happiness was contagious, "yeah! I'd like that."
"Do you wanna go now?" he nervously asked.
"Oh! Um, sure! I don't have any plans."
"Cool!" tentatively he reached out a hand to hold yours. Upon realizing this, you clasped your hand within his and then looked away blushing furiously. "You're still adorably shy, aren't you."
"I'm not adorable." You tried to deny.
"Come on, let's go get some ice cream." Luka declared and the two of you walked hand in hand out of school to get some ice cream.
"Woot! Go (y/n)! Go Luka!" the two of you heard (f/n) screaming from behind.
Masterlist
#miraculous ladybug#mlb#miraculous ladybug x reader#mlb x reader#miraculous ladybug reader insert#mlb reader insert#miraculous ladybug fanfiction#miraculous ladybug fanfic#mlb fanfiction#mlb fanfic#miraculous ladybug imagine#mlb imagine#luka#luka couffaine#miraculous luka#mlb luka#luka x reader#luka couffaine x reader#miraculous luka x reader#x reader#reader insert
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The Power of Luck [Chapter One]
Read The Power of Luck on AO3
Masterlist [All Works]
Masterlist [The Power of Luck Series]
Written for Maribat March Day 6 - Miraculous Side Effects
The Ladybug Miraculous had quite a few side effects. Marinette was able to think quick on her feet, she was a skilled tactician in battle, and her reaction time was half that of a normal human. Most notably, the Ladybug Miraculous granted its user the force known as Miraculous Luck, which, depending on the situation, was sometimes more of a curse than a blessing. Marinette didn't get to choose how that good luck manifested. For instance, when she needed an extra day to finish a history project, her school closed down due to a gas leak. Or when she wished for a fresh start after the defeat of Hawkmoth, her parents were offered a deal to grow their bakery business in America.
Marinette assured her parents that she didn't mind moving. After all, most of her class had already moved on. Lila had been deported to Italy, narrowly avoiding jail time. Chloé (much to her dismay) was sent by her father to an all-girls boarding school in England. Adrien was taken in by his Aunt Amelie (as Gabriel was in jail and Emilie was declared brain-dead) and moved to England as well.
No one else from Marinette's class left the country, but many of them moved out of Paris. Nathanial was accepted to an elite art school in Marseille. Max was accepted to a gifted program at an elite school in Bordeaux. Officer Raincomprix was transferred to Toulouse and took Sabrina with him. Juleka and Luka both started homeschooling after their mother sailed the houseboat down the Seine to the city of Rouen.
Worst of all was the loss of Alya. Her parents were horrified that the son of Hawkmoth was in the same class as their daughter, and promptly pulled Alya out of class and decided to move out of the city. Alya begged them for weeks but nothing came of her protests. In the end, Alya left too.
The Miraculous Luck could do a lot of things, but it couldn't keep her friends together. Those who remained at François Dupont filled holes in other classes. Marinette tried to make the best of her new class, but she felt no real connection to them. When her parents proposed the move, Marinette jumped on the opportunity. In Gotham, she wouldn't be haunted by the ghost of her old life.
Marinette cut her hair, leaving it choppy and just above the shoulders. She donated all of her brightly colored clothes to the thrift store down the street and created a new wardrobe for herself. It was toned down and mature, much more fitting for Gotham.
Marinette left Paris a much different girl than the naive fourteen-year-old who thought she could save the world. She was ready for a city like Gotham, a city that didn't make any promises, a city where Marinette could set down some new roots.
-----
At first, it was easy to fly under the radar at Gotham Academy. It was a school filled with the self-absorbed children of millionaires and billionaires, after all. Marinette was there on scholarship - her good grades, leadership experience, and working-class parents combined to cut her tuition down by 75%. Marinette quickly learned that scholarship students were at best ignored, and at worst mercilessly bullied. So Marinette kept her head down and vowed that she would get through the year unscathed.
There was one variable, however, that the Miraculous Luck wasn't able to account for. Marinette's entire plan fell apart thanks to one boy: Damian Wayne.
Marinette became acquainted with Damian Wayne through the school's rumor mill. She learned that he was one of the most wealthy and most attractive people in the school, but he was thought himself too good to spend time with any of his fellow classmates (Marinette couldn't fault him on the last bit; she also found the students at Gotham Academy to be difficult, to say the least). Marinette also learned through the school's rumor mill that Damian spent quite a lot of time staring at her. Given that Damian had never paid the slightest amount of attention to a Gotham Academy girl before, this was a big deal. Suddenly Marinette was the farthest thing from under the radar. Everyone who used to look down on her wanted to be her friend. It was exhausting.
Marinette resolved to ignore Damian Wayne - an easy task, given that she still didn't even know what he looked like. Now that everyone was staring at her, it was hard to
"Why?" grumbled Marinette. "Why couldn't my so-called Miraculous Luck help me get through one normal year of school?"
Tikki shrugged from her spot inside of Marinette's backpack. "Maybe all of this attention will turn out to be a good thing?"
"I doubt that." Marinette glanced around, checking that no one had spotted her talking to her backpack. There was one spot in the cafeteria that was hidden from view, a window-sill nestled behind a pillar, bordered by a wall on one side and an out of order vending machine on the other. Marinette sat on the window-sill every day to eat lunch, with Tikki as her companion for the meal.
"I think your problem is that you're overthinking this. Miraculous Luck always works out in the end, even if there are some obstacles in the middle."
"I just want this horrible school year to be over," sighed Marinette, setting her head down in her arms.
"Don't give up yet, Marinette. I have high hopes for this school year," said Tikki.
Marinette had some serious doubts but picked her head up anyway. Maybe this year wouldn't turn out the way she expected. Marinette defeated Hawkmoth, the greatest villain Paris ever faced. She could survive a year of high school.
-----
Marinette was going to survive her senior year of high school. Damian Wayne on the other hand... Marinette still wasn't sure if she was going to let him survive the year, after everything he put her through.
"Excuse me?" a sickeningly sweet voice piped up from behind Marinette.
Marinette put on her best disinterested-face, took out one headphone, and turned around. "Yes?"
There were three girls standing behind her: a blonde, flanked on both sides by a brunette and a red-head. The blonde girl had a smile on her face but a devious look in her eyes. Marinette had long ago learned to spot manipulators, and this girl had it written all over her. "Are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"
"Yes."
"My name is Julie Cooper. I was just wondering... Are you dating Damian Wayne?"
Marinette huffed in exasperation. "What do you think?"
Julie's eyes narrowed. "I just wanted to warn you. I mean, did you really think that Damian Wayne would seriously date a girl here on scholarship? You should break up with him before you get hurt."
"It was a rhetorical question. I'm not dating Damian Wayne. It's just a rumor."
Julie instantly perked up. "Oh, good! I was beginning to think that Damian had lost his mind. I mean, I'm sure you would be a nine or a ten at a public school, but at Gotham Academy, you're like a seven, maybe an eight on a good day. Most of the girls who go here are actually hot, not just," the girl waved her hand towards Marinette. "Above average."
Marinette wasn't sure if Julie meant for her to feel flattered or offended, but her words had the strange effect of making Marinette feel both all at once. "Um, thanks? I'm going to go now."
Julie's brunette friend suddenly paled as the girl started to tug on Julie's sleeve. "Um, Julie?" she whispered.
"What, Nora?" Julie's eyes widened as they fixed on something behind Marinette.
Marinette turned around to see what the cause of their concern was. Or rather, to see who the cause of their concern was. It was a boy, tall and scowling. "Are you done here, Cooper?"
Julia nodded, a nervous edge to her voice, "Bye, Marinette." She and her two friends hurried off, exchanging frantic whispers.
"What do you want?" asked Marinette with a sigh. She was tired of dealing with boys who were only interested in her because Damian Wayne was interested in her.
"I wished to apologize."
"For Julie? Did you put her up to this?"
The boy looked confused. "No, of course not. I meant that I wanted to apologize for everything, not just Julie Cooper."
"For everything?" The truth suddenly dawned on Marinette. "You're Damian Wayne! I didn't think that you would be so tall."
"You didn't know what I looked like?" There was real shock in his voice.
"Well, by the time I learned that you had been staring at me everyone was staring at me, so that wasn't much help in figuring out who you were."
"You could have googled me."
Marinette shrugged. "I could have, but it felt weird to google one of my classmates. I pretty much just resigned myself to never figuring out who you were."
"I should have approached you sooner. I've wanted to apologize for a while, but every time I've caught you alone you've looked like you wanted to be left that way."
"I'm not a fan of most of the students here."
"The students here can be..." Damian searched for the appropriate word. "Tiresome. I resigned myself to a dull four years of high school in their company. That is, until I saw you."
Marinette cocked her head. "Why me, though? I'm nothing special."
"You're different than everyone else here."
Marinette stiffened. "I know. I've been told. I'm here on a scholarship which means I don't belong," she snapped
Damian shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. You move through life differently than all of the other students here. You don't care about the gossip or drama - at least, not until you were right at the center of it all. You've seen the real world, so you float above the high school drama. You're just so... so..."
"So what?" Marinette's tone softened.
Damian ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it. The addition of the messy hair added a certain charm to his otherwise polished exterior. "I've been brainstorming for the right word for weeks. The best I can come up with is pure. You don't let yourself become affected by anything in this school."
It was a very flattering description of her. It was also very on the nose. "I'll forgive you, Damian Wayne, but only on one condition."
"What?"
"I want to get to know you, and I have a feeling that you feel the same way."
Damian nodded. "It's a deal."
Maybe her Miraculous Luck wasn't so useless after all. Marinette had expected to go the whole year without making a single friend. Now, it seemed that she might make one after all.
@maribatmarch-2k21
#maribat#daminette#Marinette Dupain-Cheng#Damian Wayne#MaribatMarch2021#maridami#marinette x damian#miraculous ladybug fic#my work
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Who could your villain Marinette (hawkmoth marinette) see as potential allies to her cause? Because she gets people to do her bidding as Akuma’s and gives them something in return, but could she maybe have a more active and aware ally (like her own Mayura)?
I could see Adrien, Luka and Kagami all being good picks. Adrien and Kagami because she helped them make friends and deal with their overbearing parents and Luka because he noticed her helping Juleka and Anarka, maybe even helped him find out the truth about his dad and either allowed him to develop a relationship with Jagged or get revenge on him for abandoning their family. Alya, too, could be a nice pick, since she’s all about justice being served and hey, if this person got rid of Chloé, there is no way they’re bad, right?
Either way, would she get a more active ally, especially if she has both the Ladybug and the Butterfly miraculous and is possibly trying to get the others?
Well, given that this Marinette would be more jaded, she probably wouldn’t trust easily. Especially not her classmates or teachers. While not bad people, they did still do nothing as Chloe bullied her for years. And given how ticked she is with Chloe for that, it stands to reason that there would be some resentment there for everyone else who allowed it. Maybe not enough to target them, but certainly enough to make it difficult for her to trust them...or anyone for that matter.
So it would be difficult for her to take on anyone as a true ally on her own. For that to happen, what she would need is someone who would be loyal to her.
Adrien, of course, is an option. She’s already formed a connection with him and helped him escape his home. He considers her a friend by this point. The problem would be his morals. On the one hand, we see in canon that he has a particular view of right and wrong, so he may be less enthused about his friend doing things that end in people being hurt, regardless of the reasons. But also per canon, that view seems to depend on the situation and who he’s pushing those standards on at any particular time. If someone he considers a friend is able to convince him of the necessity of her actions...well, how likely is it that she would end up influencing him rather than the other way around?
Luka would indeed be an option. He would like anyone who helps his sister. And Marinette’s song would still be interesting to him as her civilian self. Plus we see that while mostly chill, Luka does have his breaking point. And given the issues of his absent father and a certain faker willing to steal his music...well, he would likely be grateful for the help. And if he happens to notice that the benefactor’s song sounds a lot like a certain pigtailed girl he knows...hmmmmm...
Kagami is strong willed and steadfast. She likely wouldn’t trust the butterfly at first if one were to approach her, regardless of what it offers. I could see her dismissing the first one. Maybe even the second or third. But she does still desire friendship and freedom, and the person behind the butterfly can fulfill that need quite easily. The butterfly can make Kagami...not Kagami for a while. Let her change her form. Create a doppelgänger for herself to act in her place. Something to let Kagami explore. She would be encouraging. And kind. And if she ends up making friends with others because of it, including Marinette...that just means they are meant to be good friends, surely. And she will certainly protect her friends.
Alya could go two ways. Given her tendency to be drawn to these thing, she would pick up on the abnormalities and figure out there’s a central person behind them. The question would be whether Alya would see this person as a hero or as some sort of potential criminal mastermind. The first version would give a loyal follower who creates a blog and brings attention to this mysterious hero--initially unwanted attention, to be honest. But positive attention. The second version would take Alya down the path of a potential conspiracy and giving aid to the “heroes” trying to stop the Butterfly (if not become one herself).
The thing is though that regardless of who it ends up being, it’s not likely Marinette would willingly reveal herself to anyone. I think what is more likely to happen is that someone figures out who Marinette is and approaches her first.
Options include the previously mentioned, of course. But there are other people as well.
Like say a certain red-haired daughter of a police officer who was unjustly fired for not illegally arresting someone on command. A girl who would be reasonably upset with her “best friend” for demanding such a thing, and would probably be tired of the attitude and being used altogether. Who would of course be complained to by that friend when things start to go wrong and who would be inclined to put the pieces together to figure out who was responsible...and thank them.
Or a certain black haired writer who is able to pick up on things and notice details about people. After all, it would make a great story, wouldn’t it? And in a story like this, who else would go so far and do so much while also removing certain forces that have been tormenting the city as a whole and herself specifically? The motivation would be there. They would just have to ask to learn how.
So many options...
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Snake in the Silk
Written for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Challenge, using the @mlweeklyprompts Next Door Neighbors. The fic is supposed to be 45 minutes plus "editing," but I kind of doubled the length in editing, so...oops.
I received a lot of prompts for my 500 follower celebration that I never used (although I did end up writing a surprising number of them eventually, when I looked at the list), and I was sharing them with the sprint server as possible future prompts. One of them involved Luka getting an exotic pet, which collided with the neighbors thing in my brain, and thus this fic was born.
As always the irrepressible Dingo King belongs to Verfound, who's kind enough to let me use him.
Rated T, mostly for innuendo and language
Find it on AO3
“I hate you,” Luka fumed, keeping the phone pressed to his face as he kicked his door shut behind him. “I hate you so much right now.”
“Not true,” Dingo said cheerfully over the phone.
“I’m serious, you jackass, I can’t trust you with anything!” Luka threw his bag in the corner with probably more force than he should have, and then winced. He set his guitar case down more carefully.
“Also not true,” Dingo said, a little sheepishly this time. “Buuuuuuut I’ll grant that maybe you shouldn’t have trusted me with this.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Luka snapped as he stomped through his apartment. “Juleka was with me, and Evan’s a freaking pansy, and—” Luka stopped dead and sighed as he stared at the empty cabinet—the cabinet he had personally, carefully refurbished and remodeled to be as escape-proof as possible. Not that any of that did any good, with the door sitting ajar. Luka swore and only barely resisted the urge to kick something. “If anything happens to him,” Luka warned his best friend, “I will murder you, do you hear me?”
“Fair,” Dingo sighed. “Look, Lu, I seriously am sorry, and I would never have left except I had to work, and as soon as I can find an excuse to bail I’ll—”
“No,” Luka gritted out. “No, it won’t matter if you’re here or not. Don’t lose your job over it. I’ll figure something out.”
“It’ll work out, Lu. That stupid snake adores you, he won’t stay gone for long.”
Luka made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and grit his teeth around the things he wanted to say. “I gotta go,” he finally managed to grind out. “I’ll deal with you later.”
“Right.” Dingo laughed nervously. “I’ll bring takeout and beer and then we’ll turn your place upside down looking for the little bugger.”
Luka hung up without saying anything else, and jammed his phone in his pocket. He put his face in his hands and screamed quietly, then dragged his hands down his face and surveyed the empty enclosure again—as if Sass were just going to show up and slither right up his favorite branch and flick his tongue out like ‘Sup .
Okay, he needed to think. It wasn’t the first time Sass had taken a little pleasure jaunt. Think. How many places could a four-foot corn snake find to hide in a small apartment like this? Luka didn’t even have that much stuff, so he shouldn’t be that hard to find.
If he was even still in the apartment. Luka swallowed hard. That had never been much of a worry on the Liberty, since while there were about a billion little crannies that a snake could crawl into, most of them were unpleasant for a cold-blooded reptile, and at least he couldn’t escape the ship entirely. But here, who knew? And this was the first time he’d escaped since Luka had moved into the apartment, so Luka didn’t know what his favorite places were likely to be, and—
And standing here panicking was not doing anything to find his beloved pet. For all that Sass was a little shit of an escape artist, Luka had raised him for years and he loved the quirky little snake and his stupid little snakey face with those bright black eyes and—
“Come on, Sass,” Luka muttered, looking around helplessly. “Don’t do this to me.”
Okay. First things first. Luka swung the front of the cabinet open wide, so that if Sass did decide he preferred his (very comfortable, Luka thought with a little pout, he had done a lot of work to make sure it was) home to whatever random, dusty corner he’d managed to find, he could get back in. Probably if nothing else, Sass would come back when he was hungry, if…
Luka sighed, and took Sass’s little pool out of the bottom of the enclosure to dump it out and refill it with fresh water. He made sure the heating mat was at the right temperature, and checked under the substrate and poked around among the various hides—damnit, he’d worked so hard to make this habitat, and that stupid, ungrateful little—
A muffled but clearly audible scream broke into his thoughts, and Luka froze. There was a second, yelping shriek— from the apartment next door, he suddenly realized, and he ran for his apartment door, knocking over his guitar case in his haste to get it opened.
He’d barely had time to turn from his door to the next door down when it burst open and a young woman stumbled out of it, eyes wide in panic. She collided with Luka and he grabbed her arms on instinct.
“Are you okay?” he asked stupidly, as she looked up at him.
“I—there was—” she panted, clearly still panicked. “A snake in my panties!”
Luka stared at her for a moment, uncomprehending as he took in big blue eyes, pink cheeks, and a soft mouth that was opening and closing without saying anything, and then she balled her hands into fists and closed her eyes and shrieked, “There’s a huge snake in my underwear drawer!”
Understanding hit him like a lightning bolt. “Oh thank God,” Luka sighed, and the young woman gaped at him as he moved her aside and went into her apartment.
“Wait, what are you—” she spluttered. “Where are you going? Hey!”
Luka halted about four steps into the apartment, abruptly realizing that he didn’t know where he was going, and she crashed into his back in her rush to follow him.
“Sorry,” Luka said, turning and holding his hands up placatingly. “Sorry, it’s just—my friend was watching my flat, and he let my pet snake out and I’ve been frantic to—find...him…” It struck him all at once that the young woman currently staring at him had wet black hair hanging around her shoulders, and a red and black polka-dotted silk robe wrapped haphazardly around her very nice body. It was still sticking to her in places and he suddenly felt like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.
“That thing is yours?” she demanded, pushing her wet hair back and gripping her robe more tightly closed with the other hand. “I don’t know whether I’m mad at you or just relieved the whole building isn’t...infested or something.” She looked around nervously. “So there’s no more? Just the one?”
“No,” Luka laughed, burying the fingers of one hand in his hair. “No, no, no infestation, just one irresponsible best friend and my freaking Houdini-wanna-be pet snake. I’m so, so sorry he scared you, but if you show me where he is, I’ll get him out of here and you can get—uh, get on with your day, um….Miss.”
“Marinette,” she sighed, tugging the robe around herself a little self-consciously, her cheeks turning an attractive pink. Shit, she was cute, and this was really awkward. Ugh, Luka was going to kill Dingo, and maybe Sass too for good measure.
“Luka,” he said, offering his hand. “I live next door and I promise I don’t let my snake out all willy-nilly.”
Marinette snorted and covered her mouth with one hand as Luka blinked at her, feeling his face slowly turning red. “I can’t believe I just said that,” he muttered under his breath, and Marinette laughed aloud.
“Come on,” she giggled. “This way. Um, watch your step...I’m still getting unpacked and all and...okay that’s a lie, it’s always this messy, but it’s organized, I swear—”
“Hey, I’m not gonna judge your housekeeping choices, trust me,” Luka told her absently as he followed her down the short hall. “I don’t think I’m in any position to judge you at all, given the situation. Even if I did that kind of thing. Judge people, I mean. I—I don’t, or I try not to, at least—” He paused and took a deep breath, trying not to let it out as a frustrated sigh.
Marinette pushed open a door and edged into the room—her bedroom, it was immediately obvious. She stayed pressed up against the wall. “It’s, um, over there,” she said, pointing to a pink and black chest of drawers, the top drawer of which was hanging open. “I just opened the drawer and there it was and I—” She fluttered her hands.
Luka went over to the drawer and surveyed the contents. “I don’t see him,” he sighed.
“What?” Marinette’s voice jumped several octaves.
“It’s okay, he probably just—” Luka reached out, and stopped just before he touched anything, hand hovering over the rumpled pile of silk and lace in the drawer. “Uh…” Luka looked back at Marinette. “I mean, do you mind if I…” he gestured weekly at the drawer full of underthings. “See if he’s underneath this stuff?”
“Oh,” Marinette blushed again, but waved a dismissive hand, shifting nervously. “Go ahead. Do what you need to do. I just want you to find it.” She cracked a small smile. “Thanks for checking, though.”
“Sure,” Luka grunted, carefully lifting a pair of lace edge panties from the top of what had probably been a neat pile before Sass decided to rummage it into a nest. He shifted things aside carefully, trying not to look too hard at any of it. “Come on, you little shit,” he muttered. “You’re killing me here.”
“Um, could you actually, uh...maybe hand me a pair of those?” Marinette said, and Luka glanced back at her in some surprise. She was still pressed back against the wall and her face was red again, and she was clutching her robe tight around her, fingering her wet hair as she fidgeted— oh .
“Oh, yeah, uh...any particular...color?” he asked weakly. She seemed like the kind of girl who liked to match. Which was such a weird thing to be thinking right now. He was definitely going to kill Dingo. Slowly . Maybe feed important bits of him to Sass before he murdered his beloved pet, too.
“Anything’s fine,” Marinette replied, with a slightly hysterical sounding laugh.
Luka lifted another pair, trying not to think too hard about which pair he grabbed and what it might say about him. He tossed the panties to her, and then quickly turned back to the drawer.
“I’m just gonna step outside for a minute,” Marinette muttered, and Luka swallowed as he heard her bare feet pad away.
“This is the weirdest fucking day,” he muttered under his breath, carefully moving more underthings aside and trying not too hard to think about what other kinds of things a lady might keep in her underwear drawer. Ugh, why did the damn drawer have to be so deep—wait, was that—
Luka picked up a distractingly pretty blue pair decorated with black ribbons, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the familiar tip of Sass’s tail sticking out. “Got you, you little shit.”
“You found him?” Marinette said behind him, and Luka jumped. She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt now, and she’d pulled her wet hair back into a ponytail. She stood on tiptoe to look around him, though she still kept back behind him.
“Yeah, now I just have to get around to his head and get him out without spooking him,” Luka said, reaching into the drawer again. “The last thing I want is him musking all over your things because I grabbed him too quickly and startled him.”
Marinette wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know what that means, but it sounds gross.”
“Trust me, it is,” Luka said, removing another pair of Marinette’s underwear and adding it to the pile he’d been making on top of the dresser. “I am really, really sorry about this. I shouldn’t have trusted Ding—my friend. He’s got a good heart but he’s a little loose on details.” In the drawer, Sass shifted, and lifted his head, tongue flicking out curiously, a pair of teal, scale-patterned panties draped over his head. Luka bit back a laugh. “Hey, buddy,” he murmured, moving his fingers near Sass. Sass’s tongue flickered once, and then again, scenting, and then he moved forward, sliding out from under the pile of panties to glide onto Luka’s hand. “There we go.” Luka brought his other hand forward to move under Sass’s body, and finally, carefully, lifted the pile of snake out of Marinette’s underwear drawer. Far from looking stressed, Sass seemed as relaxed and laid back as ever, gathering his nearly four-foot length into Luka’s hands like nothing was amiss. It kind of made Luka want to shake him, but that would have been really dumb, so he didn’t. He sighed with relief instead, feeling his shoulders go slack as Sass poked his head up towards Luka’s elbow.
“I wasn’t imagining it,” Marinette murmured, keeping behind him, but still leaning on his arm to peep curiously around him at Sass. “He really was that big.”
“He’s pretty near his full growth,” Luka agreed, and lifted Sass up to eye level. “Which is why I built you that nice, big habitat and made it so comfortable, so that you had room to be you. I can’t believe you just bailed on it.” Sass swayed forward, bumping his snout against Luka’s face. “Yeah, it’s me, you little dummy.”
“Does he bite?” Marinette asked, and Luka snorted softly, moving his hands to keep the snake supported as Sass began to slither up his arm.
“Not usually. Sometimes he bites me just to make a point, but not enough to hurt,” Luka told her, “For the most part he’s well socialized, and friendly. Really, he’s harmless to anything much bigger than a rat. I promise, you were never in any danger from him. I’m sorry he gave you such a scare, though.”
“Can I...can I touch him?” Marinette asked, as Sass slithered across Luka’s shoulder and extended his head out a bit, tongue flickering. Luka grinned at her.
“Yeah, sure. Here, let’s just...” He backed up a step and sat down on the edge of Marinette’s bed, then reached up and took Sass off his shoulders to gather him between his hands again. Apparently no longer inclined to stay put after his little panty-nest nap, Sass began to slide up his arm again as Marinette set down next to him. She reached out a tentative finger to stroke Sass’s body as the snake moved up towards Luka’s shoulder. “Oooh, that’s so weird,” she said, but she was grinning, and Luka chuckled.
“I’ve had him since he was a baby about the size of my hand,” Luka told her, closing one eye as Sass poked his snout into Luka’s cheek. “I was freaking out, thinking that I’d lost him. I’m sorry we interrupted your day, but I’m grateful you found him, and didn’t hurt him.”
“Hurt him ,” Marinette laughed. “ He just about gave me a heart attack. I just moved in, you know, and—well, I’d seen a mouse a couple of times so I was already a bit jumpy, and then I saw that and suddenly I was sure the whole place was crawling with pests. Which was maybe a dumb thing to think, but I...it’s my first time living on my own and I guess I’m a little paranoid.” She shrank a little, reaching up to tug at her still-dripping ponytail.
“I don’t think there’s any reasonable reaction to finding a snake in your...er, unmentionables.” Luka coughed as Marinette snickered.
“Unmentionables,” she snickered. “You sound like an old man.”
Luka laughed with her, only a little self-consciously. “I, um... don’t think you’re going to have a mouse problem anymore,” he commented, stroking a swollen place in Sass’s belly. “I guess that’s why Sass ended up here. He probably smelled it.”
Marinette eyed the lump in Sass’s otherwise sleek form with a conflicted expression, but she only sighed.
“If it’s any consolation, I’ve been here a few months and I haven’t had any pest problems,” Luka continued.
“I don’t guess you would,” Marinette laughed, looking at Sass. “They can probably smell him and stay away. Maybe I should borrow him sometimes.”
“Well, clearly I could use a better babysitter,” Luka chuckled. “So if you’re interested, we can definitely work something out.” He turned his head to look at Sass, who was draped along his shoulders again. “No more hunting, though. That mouse could have messed you up, you little jerk.”
Sass yawned, tongue flickering, and then stuck his head down the collar of Luka’s shirt. Luka rolled his eyes. “I should let you get back to your day,” he said, standing up. “And I should get this guy back into his cage.” Sass slid further into Luka’s shirt, and then reversed course, his head peeping back out. “What are you even doing right now?” Luka asked him. “Missing your heat rock?”
Marinette giggled. “He’s kind of cute, actually. He’s very pretty, with those markings...wait, is that him?” She caught the edge of Luka’s sleeve, lifting it slightly to reveal the top of the tattoo on his upper arm.
“Yeah,” Luka grinned, shifting so she could see it better. “I love that one. They made him look amazing.”
“They really did,” Marinette said admiringly, and then her eyes widened slightly and she dropped his sleeve, moving back as her face reddened. “Um, sorry.”
“No worries,” Luka chuckled. She was really adorable, and sweet when she wasn’t screaming. She’d certainly warmed up to Sass quick enough, too, so he gave her points for courage and open-mindedness.
“Well, it was very nice to meet you, Sass,” Marinette said to the snake, bending down slightly to be eye to eye with him. “Next time I’d appreciate it if you’d wait for an invitation, though.”
Sass slid up and away from Luka, stretching out toward Marinette as if planning to explore her shoulders next, but Luka put a hand under him and lifted away. “None of that, Casanova,” he told the snake, redirecting Sass back to his own shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”
Marinette walked them to the door, and when she opened it, Luka paused on the doorstep. “Um, thanks again for being so understanding,” he said, trying not to stare at her too intently. “I’m glad to have met you, Marinette. If you ever need anything, well.” He gestured vaguely. “I’m right next door, and I owe you.”
Marinette smiled at him, pink tinging her cheeks, and his stomach did a little flip. “Thanks, Luka. I’m glad to meet you too. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, definitely,” Luka smiled back, and then practically fled back to his own door. “See you.”
She gave him a little wave before closing her door, and he was grinning widely when he opened his own.
He took Sass straight back to his enclosure, and Sass eagerly slid from his hands, beelining for his favorite warming spot. “I’m really mad at you,” Luka told him. “I was worried. I’m definitely still killing Dingo.” He couldn’t keep his face stern, though, a smile twitching his mouth. “I might owe you big time, though. That was a hell of an icebreaker.” Luka sighed, and shut the enclosure, making sure it was securely latched.
He went back to the door where he’d dumped his bags, and picked up his guitar case, leaving the suitcases where they were for now. He got out his guitar and settled down on the couch with a sigh.
He lost track of how long he’d sat there, playing a soft tune that reminded him of blue eyes and giggles and silk. When his phone buzzed in his pocket and brought him back to himself, he could see sunset colors through the window.
“Oi, mate,” Dingo said when Luka picked up the phone. “I finally escaped—ooh, poor choice of words...I mean I’m off work now. I’ll grab some takeout and meet you at your place so we can—”
“I found him,” Luka interrupted, wincing a little. He probably should have texted Dingo hours ago to let him know.
Oh well, the bastard deserved it.
“You did?” Dingo repeated, obviously relieved. “Yes. Good. Okay. Welp, cancel that then—”
“Oh, no,” Luka interrupted him. “You’re not getting out of bringing me dinner. I still need to kick your ass.”
“Not exactly incentivizing, mate.” Dingo sighed. “You want your usual?’
“Actually,” Luka said, thinking fast. “I’ll text you my order in a minute.” He hung up before Dingo could protest, stuck his phone in his pocket, and went out the front door.
“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his palms on his jeans before he knocked on Marinette’s door.
She opened the door and her curious expression morphed into a smile. “Luka.” She was fully dressed now and made up to boot, and just as cute as he remembered.
“Hey,” he managed to get out, and hoped his smile didn’t look too manic. “Um, my asshole best friend is bringing me takeout to make up for being a dummy, and I’d really like to buy you dinner to make up for earlier.”
“Oh,” Marinette’s expression shifted into uncertainty, and she bit her lip. “I’d hate to intrude…”
“If you’d rather, I can just bring your food over when it gets here,” Luka offered. “But you definitely wouldn’t be intruding, I’d love for you to join us. Totally your call, though. You don’t even have to decide now. Do you like Thai?” He pulled out his phone to show her the menu.
“I love Thai,” she admitted shyly, taking the phone he offered her. “Um...but you really don’t have to…”
“I want to,” he told her sincerely, and the smile she turned up at him made his heart rate kick up a few beats.
“Okay,” she said, and he nearly stopped breathing as she pulled up his contacts. “How about I just add my number and you can text me when he gets here, and...I’ll come over for a little bit, if you guys really don’t mind.”
“Y-yes, yeah, definitely, go ahead,” he said quickly.
Smiling to herself, Marinette did just that, and then sent herself a text before she handed him back the phone. “I’ll text you my order, it’s a little complicated,” she told him, “and then I guess I’ll see you in a little bit.”
“Yeah,” Luka smiled at her. “Looking forward to it. I’ll text you in a bit.”
He managed to make it back into his own apartment without cracking, and then he had a (very quiet, since she was still next door) freakout in his living room as he texted Dingo both of their orders and hit send. He found himself in front of Sass’s cage, trying to slow his pulse with some deep breathing. Sass was looking right through the glass at him, and if Luka didn’t know better, he’d have thought the little bastard looked smug.
“I’m still mad at you,” Luka insisted, but the grin splitting his face probably wasn’t very convincing. “Don’t look at me like that.” He sighed. “Dingo’s never going to let me hear the end of this. If she’ll even speak to me ever again after she meets him.”
Well. That was a problem for future Luka. Present Luka just got the number for the hot girl next door, and she thought his snake was cute, and—
“Yeah, this dinner with Dingo is going to be a disaster,” he laughed helplessly, flinging himself down on the couch.
#quickspins#lukanette#endgame lukanette#lukanette endgame#luka couffaine#marinette dupain-cheng#miraculousladybug#miraculous ladybug#neighbors au#meet-cute#i'll never not know you#a single spark#quickfic
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Summer Photography (aka the thirst trap)
Summary: Marinette is forced to take pictures for Gabriel in order to pay for her summer graduation trip with her best friends from lycee. Adrien, her primary model, wants to avoid the summer heat and pulls in one very attractive bad-boy motorcycle man to be his replacement.
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July in Gotham comes with an almost rancid kind of heat.
The kind of heat that is impossible to banish unless the air conditioning is set to 65 degrees and there’s a dehumidifier in the room. The kind of heat that makes babies cry with discomfort and adults curse whenever they have to take a foot outside. The only age population that enjoys it are the teens. More precisely, the teens are more fans of being on summer vacation, rather than the sticky warmth, but they find ways to work with the heat, rather than against it. Some teens gather on apartment rooftops, taking in the rare, smoggy breeze with pleasure. Others frequent their local swimming pool, an ice cream parlor or convenience store. If they get really desperate, they take shelter in the library.
Should a teen be forced out onto the muggy sidewalks full of sweaty bodies, they drift towards parks or areas of ‘city beautification’ and find a tree to rest their weary bodies under.
Of course, there are always exceptions to these norms.
“Marinette,” Adrien groans, sweat on his brow. “Can we please do this not during peak heat?”
“No,” Marinette says. “Your father insisted on having pictures of a male model at precisely two in the afternoon, and it took me months to convince him to let us come on this trip, so we’re not going to do anything to jeopardize it.”
“It’s not like he can do anything now. We’re literally an ocean away.”
“Suck it up, sunshine,” Marinette swats her hand at a lazy fly, not bothering to look up from changing the lens on her camera. “Maybe I’d let you get away with a substitution. Gabriel didn’t specify that the person in the pictures had to be you, but we don’t know anyone in Gotham, and everyone we’ve come across so far isn’t exactly the friendly sort.”
Adrien flicks the collar of his t-shirt, desperately trying to generate some sort of a breeze so he doesn’t melt. “This is all Nino’s fault. He and Alya insisted on going to that couple’s show when he could have been out here, taking my place. If Luka were here, he wouldn’t have deserted me like that.”
“We all know of your and Luka’s undying love for one another, but he is busy touring. He’ll meet up with us in New York, though, and you can have your disgustingly sweet love-fest over there. Meanwhile, I’ll be forever alone.”
“Don’t put yourself down like that, Marinette. At least five people in each city we’ve gone to so far have tried to go on dates with you.”
She crinkles her nose and does a test shot, making sure the light setting works out. “Yeah, but they all reeked of desperation and alcohol. Plus, at least two of them were just looking for a person to cheat with.”
“No good,” Marinette says, frowning at the shadows the tree cast. “Gabriel won’t be happy with these kinds of photos. You’re going to have to move out of the shade.”
“No!” Adrien wails. “I refuse! It’s bad enough that you dragged me out here, but to make me go in the sun? You know I burn easily.”
“Yeah, yeah drama queen, but these photos aren’t going to take themselves, and I’m one hundred percent sure that you don’t want to have to do this twice. Which is what we’ll end up having to do if you don’t get your little butt out into the sun so we can take quality shots.”
Adrien whines before a motorcycle revs in the not so far distance. A very Chat Noir smile creeps onto his face. “I don’t think I will. I’ve just found my substitute.”
Marinette follows his gaze, then shrugs. “If you think you can convince him to substitute in, you’re free to go. But remember, it’s Gotham, and if you get jumped, I’m not going to help. It’s too hot for a fight.”
“You underestimate my charm.” Adrien says, already triumphant.
#
True to form, Adrien somehow manages to get motorcycle man over to her.
“Not sure how Adrien convinced you to do this, but I guess he gets a free pass.” Marinette knows exactly what Adrien’s going to do with his free time. He’s gone on and on about Gotham’s Museum of Vigilantes, and to be quite frank, Marinette doesn’t want to get caught up in another one of Adrien’s rant sessions on the Bat Family. “Anyways, nice to meet you. I’m Marinette, and my awful boss has come of with the wonderfully creative idea of Summer Heat for a photoshoot in the summer.”
She has a bone to pick with Gabriel Agreste. More than one, actually. In fact, she’d say that out of the 206 (well, 207, if she counts the fracture she got in her left pinky toe after that last akuma battle that weirdly, still hasn’t healed) bones in her body, she’d pick a fight with Gabriel over at least 200 of them. The lack of originality is one thing, but she’s not sure how she feels about his blatant attempts to set her up with her son during this trip. Somehow, he still hasn’t grasped the fact that his son doesn’t swing her way despite having hundreds of pictures of being lovey-dovey with Luka all over the internet. In fact, maybe it’s because Adrien and Luka have that many pictures that Gabriel is trying to push for a heterosexual relationship. A lack of vision both for his photo shoots and for his company. Marinette doesn’t understand how she once looked up to this man.
“It’s no problem. I’ve got nothing better to do, anyways.”
Marinette blinks, then reassesses the man in front of her. Not only does he have a sinfully attractive voice, but his visual appeal isn’t that bad, either. “It’s still nice of you to do this. Should be a pretty quick shoot. Five outfit changes and a few poses in each-- shouldn’t take any longer than an hour, hour and a half.”
She rummages through her bag, fishing out a stack of paper. “You’ll get paid for your time. $250 for the whole shoot, and if you want to keep one of the outfits, feel free.”
If she’s being completely honest, she thinks that Gabriel’s summer collection is a hot mess, and she doesn’t particularly want the burden of bringing back the disgusting articles of clothes back with her in her suitcase. Should motorcycle man not want any of them, she’ll send them back via express mail.
“Don’t need the money, but I’m trying to stay out for as long as I can. Any way you could make the shoot go on longer?”
“You want to stay out in this heat?” Marinette asks in disbelief, taking out a small bag of makeup to apply to his face. She motions for him to sit in the shade of the tree while she sees what she needs to cover up.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Motorcycle man says.
“Like the owner of a custom Harley-Davidson is poor,” Marinette quips. Humming in approval after giving his features once over, she decides that foundation isn’t necessary, only concealer to cover up the dark circles and some old scars.“You have great skin.”
During their summer trip, Marinette has become makeup artist, photographer, public relations manager, and trip advisor. It’s a taxing job, but well worth the reward, which is an all-expense-paid graduation trip with her friends from lycee. Well, Nino and Alya had to pay, but between Nino’s part time DJ gigs and Alya’s ad revenue on the Ladyblog, it wasn’t hard for them to raise enough for the two month long, seven city, four country trip.
“One of my siblings is insistent that we do our best to minimize the scarring. Don’t know what his deal is, it’s not like our faces are sellable commodities.”
“That’s where you’re wrong-- you’re pretty good looking and could easily go into modelling or acting if you wanted. So props to whoever your sibling is. And thank your genetics too.”
Motorcycle man snorts. “Not cut out for that lifestyle. I like more… adrenaline inducing jobs.”
Marinette almost-- almost laughs. The placement of the scars on his face do imply that he’s gotten in at least one or two knife fights before, and there’s a thin line on his neck that definitely looks like it hurt. Motorcycle man has definitely been in trouble before, but he’s also good enough to get himself out of it. She’s not going to bother asking what his job is. She doesn’t want to be an accessory to any of his crimes. “Action movies, then?”
“Oh sweetheart, I make action movies look like a kid’s fist fight.”
“Wow, we have a bad boy on our hands, ladies and gentleman.” She finishes applying highlighter and sits back to admire her work. His jaw can cut glass. “Okay, Motorcycle Man, it’s time to take pictures. If you’re good, maybe I’ll draw the shoot out-- I’m not a fan of this humidity.”
Summer is better than winter, if only because she’s acquired a weird habit to almost hibernate when the temperature gets too cold. It’s easy for Marinette to shrug off the heat most days, even when her friends complain constantly.
“The name’s Jason.”
“I think I’ll stick with Motorcycle Man. Alliteration, you know? Now, one hand in your pocket, the other at your collar. Left leg out a little, like you’re ready to take a step-- perfect. Walk forwards a little, yeah, just like that.”
Jason is Adonis personified. The perfect package of cocky, arrogant, and bad boy. It doesn’t hurt that he’s well muscled either-- even Adrien doesn’t have thighs like that, and he spends hours as Chat Noir jumping from rooftop to rooftop.
“You’re a natural,” Marinette praises. “Have you ever modeled before?”
“Not like this, but I’ve got my fair share of pictures on the internet.”
She’s going to regret asking this. But curiosity killed the cat, not the ladybug. “If not for modelling, then what for?”
“Oh, you know. This and that. A few odd jobs here and there.”
And if that doesn’t make Jason sound more like a criminal, she doesn’t know what will. Marinette decides that she definitely won’t bring up a day job, let alone a night job.
“All right, next outfit.” She pushes a muscle tank top and light, ripped jeans into his hands. “You can change in the public restroom, and if anything doesn’t fit, just let me know.”
He takes the outfit, but pauses at one of the other outfits she has in her bag. “Is that… leather and fur? For a shoot with the theme of summer heat?”
“I don’t call the shots, I’m just the poor lackey who has to make them look good. Trust me, if I were in charge of design, the only outfit that might still be in the bag is the one you’re holding right now.” Gabriel is definitely losing his touch. But hey, doing this weird intern summer program for him isn’t the worst thing she’s had to do in her life. It’s good to learn from other people’s mistakes, rather than making them herself.
“Don’t worry. Crappy fashion isn’t going to scare me away. Have you seen some of Gotham’s villains?”
At that, she couldn’t suppress a laugh. “You’re talking Gotham villains? How about Paris?”
“Paris is some weird alternate dimension. It doesn’t count,” Jason protests.
“I could say the same for Gotham. Really, why are there so many Robins? Can’t they come up with another name?”
“I almost wish I could argue with that.”
He comes out of the stall, and Marinette feels the summer heat. Jason, Motorcycle Man is ripped. Yeah, his thighs are probably some of the thickest she’s seen, but his biceps are to die for. She’s half tempted to ask for his workout regime, but she’s sure that somewhere he’ll casually throw in ‘beating up random people on the street’ or ‘punching people who piss him off.’ Those are just the kind of vibes that Jason gives off.
“The arm holes are kinda tight.”
“I’m sure they are,” Marinette breathes, chest tight. Jason’s eyes smoulder. He knows exactly what he’s doing as he places an arm on the door frame and flexes. She thinks she can die happy, now.
They wrap up the shoot quickly. All of the clothes are promptly packaged up except for the tanktop and jeans.
@jasonette-july-2k20
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For the other jasonette prompts i’ve written for so far, i think i’ll probably continue them eventually, so lmk if you want to be added to the tag list for that. pretty surprised these are getting such a good reception thank you guys for that ;)
#jasonette july#jasonette#jason todd#marinette dupain cheng#maribat#miraculous ladybug#dcu#summer#jason has thicccc thighs#marinette is a ho for muscles#adrien agreste#original content
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Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Nine
Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Nine
Luka didn’t last long after brunch.
By the time the dishwasher was loaded and Luka had finished teasing Adrien, Luka’s headache was back in full force.
“I need to go lie down before I throw up,” Luka groaned, gingerly massaging his temple. “Or maybe I should throw up and then go lie down.”
“No vomiting,” Adrien chastised, taking Luka by the elbow and gently guiding him back towards Luka’s bedroom. “I don’t want that breakfast I lovingly made going to waste. You need to digest those nutrients.”
“I’ll do my best,” Luka chuckled weakly, consenting to be escorted just so he could indulge in the warmth of Adrien’s hand on his skin. “…Sorry about all this.”
Adrien clicked his tongue.
“Shh. No apologies. Go lie down and feel better,” he instructed as he deposited Luka onto his bed. “And call me if you need anything because I want to be helpful, okay?”
“Okay,” Luka reluctantly agreed, still feeling guilty.
“Promise?” Adrien stressed, not believing Luka for a minute. “I don’t want to come in here to check on you and find you dead. You call me if you need me.”
Luka let out a soft laugh, smiling dimly. “Okay. I promise. Thank you, Adrien.”
With a patented wink that did things to Luka’s heart, Adrien turned to go. “Feel better soon, Orpheus.”
Adrien and Plagg had four years’ worth of television to catch up on, so they settled down on the couch with a fresh-baked batch of gougère and spent the afternoon watching Netflix.
Adrien kept the volume relatively low so that he would hear if Luka stirred and needed him, but the apartment remained quiet, so Adrien assumed that Luka was either dead or sleeping.
“Quit fussing,” Plagg purred soothingly from his perch on Adrien’s shoulder. “He’s a grown man. He’s survived this long without you, so he can obviously take care of himself to some extent.”
Adrien snorted as he scrolled through the myriad options filling the screen, searching for their next show to binge. “You didn’t see what a mess this place was when I moved in. It’s apparent that Luka’s been running on empty for a while. Maybe he can take care of himself, but maybe he shouldn’t have to. Maybe I can do it better, and maybe he should know that he doesn’t have to go it alone all the time.”
Adrien took a deep breath and sighed it out. “I worry about him.”
“You worry too much, Kitten,” Plagg chuckled, flying down to point at the screen. “That one. Trixx said it was good.”
Adrien arched an eyebrow. “Lupin? Like the book series?”
A knock at the door cut off Plagg’s reply.
Adrien set his brand-new laptop aside and made his way to the door as Plagg retreated to his hiding spot in Adrien’s left shoulder.
“I wonder if it’s Josie or Jacob come to check on Luka. …Though, they were pretty trashed last night too,” Adrien muttered as he put his eye to the peephole.
Sucking in a gasp, Adrien sprang back from the door, hissing, “It’s Marinette!” in a whisper.
“Plagg, what do I do?!”
Plagg floated back out into the room with a shrug. “Let her in? Don’t let her in? There aren’t a lot of options, so it shouldn’t be too complicated.”
“But it is,” Adrien insisted, running his hands aggressively through his hair in his panic. “The last time I saw her, I threw my ring at her and ran away after my father was just revealed to be the big bad we’d been fighting for almost a decade.”
“You threw the ring at her feet, not at her,” Plagg corrected calmly.
“And then I ran away and left her to deal with a huge mess,” Adrien groaned. “Not to mention I completely missed the fact that my father was evil. She either thinks I was in on it or that I’m a total moron.”
“Kid—” the kwami attempted to interject.
Adrien wasn’t listening as he clutched his head in his hands and sank to the floor.
“Plagg, what if she hates me?” he whispered, horrified at the prospect.
With a sigh, Plagg alighted on Adrien’s knee. “Kid, she’s agonizing over the exact same thing herself.”
Adrien blinked, regaining some composure as he focused on Plagg. “What?”
“Adrien, Marinette thinks she failed you,” Plagg gently explained. “I mostly stayed in the box while you were gone, but I’ve heard Tikki stressing about it. Marinette is all caught up on how she ruined your life and wasn’t a good enough friend to you and failed you as a partner when you needed her most. She thinks you hate her…but you don’t, do you?”
Adrien’s brow crumpled in confusion. “What? No. No, of course not. None of this is Marinette’s fault. She always did everything she could for me. I just…I didn’t let her help me after…”
Plagg nodded. “Do you think she’d put so much energy and time into worrying about you if she hated you?”
Adrien gulped as the puzzle pieces aligned in a way that didn’t quite make sense to him. “…No?”
“No, she wouldn’t,” Plagg affirmed.
A tentative knock came again at the door, making Adrien jump.
“Hello?” Marinette called from out in the hallway, her voice muffled. “I know you’re there. Please open the door.”
Slowly, Adrien got to his feet, mustering every ounce of courage he could manage.
He took a deep breath, held it, and unlocked the door.
“Thank you,” Marinette sighed in relief. “I’m sorry for coming over here, but I—”
She abruptly cut herself off with a gasp when the door opened to reveal Adrien instead of Luka.
Her eyes went as wide as mooncakes as she slapped a hand over her mouth in disbelief.
Adrien pushed down his fear of rejection and smiled, opening his arms in invitation. “Hi, Buguinette. I’ve really missed you.”
“Chaton,” she choked, slamming into him like a billboard and nearly crushing him with the force of her hug. “Adrien.”
“Marinette, I’m so sorry for leaving the way I did…for not being able to handle any of it. I’m sorry for staying away so long. I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, but—”
“—Shut up, you stupid cat,” she blubbered into his shirt. “I’m the one who should be saying sorry after everything I’ve done.”
She pulled back slightly to face him. “Adrien, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I didn’t—”
“—Shh,” he sniffled as tears of mingled relief and joy streamed down his cheeks. “Marinette, I didn’t let anyone be there for me. I pushed everyone away so that I didn’t pull them down with me. There is absolutely nothing I blame you for.”
She blinked at him, stunned, as he smiled down at her beatifically, offering absolution.
“But…if I had just been better,” she protested. “I could have—”
“—Shut up, you dumb bug,” he whispered, pulling her back into a hug and resting his head against hers. “I’m not mad at you, and I don’t think anything is your fault. It’s all in your head, My Lady. You were always the best at beating yourself up.”
She settled into his arms, tightening her own hold on him as well. “So…we’re okay?”
“So long as you’re not mad at me,” he agreed.
“I could never be mad at you, Idiot,” she pouted into his chest.
“You’ve been mad at me before,” he chuckled, beginning to sink into the familiarity of their old partnership.
“Not for real. Not for long,” she snorted.
They stood there for a long stretch, regaining their equilibrium and absorbing the reality of everything being okay.
Eventually, they pulled apart and took a good look at one another.
“…Are you okay?” Marinette inquired cautiously as she noted how thin he seemed and the subtly-off pallor of his skin.
Adrien grimaced, averting his gaze. “Not yet, but I think I’m finally headed in the right direction. …I don’t really want to talk about it, but the past four years have been rough, so…it’s going to be a bit before I’m ‘okay’ again.”
Marinette nodded, reaching out to rest a supportive hand on his bicep. “Is there anything I can do?”
She gave his arm a squeeze.
A sheepish smile turned up the corners of his mouth, and he shot her a coy look. “Be my friend again?”
With a roll of her eyes, she lightly swatted at him. “Adrien, I never stopped thinking of you as a friend.”
Fresh tears began to well up in his eyes. “R-Really?”
With a bashful smile, she met his gaze and nodded. “Even when I was afraid you wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore. …So, what else can I do for you?”
“Give him head pats and tell him he’s a good boy,” Plagg suggested from where he’d made himself comfy among the savory cheese pastries on the plate on the couch. “It makes him really happy when you tell him he’s a good cook.”
“Plagg,” Adrien groaned, giving his kwami an eyeroll. “No one is going to eat those now that you’ve rolled in them.”
“That was the plan,” Plagg snickered.
“I see that I needn’t have worried about you, Plagg.” Marinette gave a half-amused snort. “Luka came to get you for Adrien. It all makes sense now.”
“It was sweet of you to worry,” Plagg chuckled, holding up one of the cheese puffs. “Want a gougère? He made them himself, and they’re delicious.”
Marinette quirked an eyebrow at Adrien. “You cook?”
Adrien blushed as his hand went to the back of his neck in his habitual gesture. “I mean…just a little.”
“He’s amazing,” Plagg bragged as if he himself were the one to be praised.
“What can you make?” Marinette pressed, giving Adrien a gentle nudge with her elbow.
“Anything,” Plagg cut Adrien off before he could downplay his talents. “You should get him to cook for you sometime.”
Adrien bit his lip and tentatively offered, “Would you like to eat with us? I made a whole bunch of soups this morning.”
Marinette’s mouth rounded into an “o” of surprise. “I would love to, but I’m not sure if I should impose like that.”
Adrien waved away her reservations. “It’s not a problem at all. Luka’s totally cool with me inviting friends over. Besides, I was just thinking about getting Luka up and making him eat something anyway, so you should join us. He’s kind of having one of his bad days because of The Breakup, so I’m sure he’d appreciate your company.”
Plagg winced. “Uh…Kid…”
Marinette looked utterly puzzled and opened her mouth to seek clarification, but the moment was interrupted as Luka’s bedroom door creaked open.
“Hey, Adrien, do we still have some of that…” Luka froze, putting out a hand to brace himself in the doorway as he registered Marinette’s presence. “…potato leek soup you made the other day,” he finished flatly, redirecting all of his mental energy to not panicking.
“Sure. I’ll heat some up for you, if you want,” Adrien replied enthusiastically, missing the tense, thick atmosphere between Luka and Marinette.
“I actually just invited Marinette to eat with us,” Adrien continued excitedly as he started towards the kitchen.
“Chaton, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Marinette sighed.
Adrien blinked and looked back and forth between Marinette and Luka. “Why not? Luka doesn’t mind, do you, Luka?”
Luka winced, wishing for an akuma attack to call Marinette and Adrien away so that Luka wouldn’t have to deal with this situation.
“You didn’t tell him,” Marinette gathered, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
“I didn’t see the relevance,” Luka answered defensively. “I didn’t think it mattered, and I didn’t want to make things awkward between you two.”
“What’s going on?” Adrien tentatively broke in. “What didn’t Luka tell me?”
Luka shot Marinette a warning look, but the word came out as a plea: “Don’t.”
Marinette rolled her eyes, confessing, “I’m the ex-girlfriend.”
Luka slumped against the doorjamb, cringing.
“There’s no reason to keep it a secret from him,” Marinette insisted with a twinge of exasperation.
Logically, Luka knew this, but…
“Wait.” Adrien spoke up again, whipping his head back and forth to take them both in. “You two were…”
Adrien’s brain crashed as he thought back to all of the objects he’d sorted through when he’d cleaned up the apartment: the books, CDs, DVDs, notebooks, articles of clothing…
Adrien had known that Luka and Marinette had dated and broken up several times over the years, but…knowing that Marinette had been the cause of Luka’s suffering this time gave the whole situation a new aspect.
Luka had said that his ex was in love with someone else, and, now, Adrien wanted to shake Marinette and demand whom she was in love with and how she could let someone like Luka go for anyone else.
“Sorry.” Marinette’s voice broke into Adrien’s thoughts. “I’m sorry for coming. I just wanted to check on Plagg and return some things. I know you said you didn’t think you’d be ready to see me for a few weeks at least, but…I found some things I thought you’d like to have back before then, and I was concerned about Plagg.”
Marinette ducked out into the hall and grabbed the two bulging trash bags she’d left sitting beside the door. She then produced an apartment key and handed it to Adrien. “Sorry about all this.”
Adrien shook his head. “No. I…I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
With a tired smile, she pulled him into a quick hug, assuring, “Don’t worry about it.”
She pulled back, taking his hands in hers and giving them a squeeze. “My phone number’s the same, and my trapdoor is always open for you, if you want to come over and hang out. My parents would be ecstatic to see you too, if you wanted to drop by. We’re still at the bakery.”
“I’d really like that,” Adrien admitted, getting choked up all over again at the thought that there was someplace where he’d be welcomed with wide-open arms. “Talk soon?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “As soon as you want.”
He squeezed her hands back as he leaned in to place air kisses to the sides of her cheeks. “See you, Buguinette.”
“See you, Chaton,” she replied, voice full of warmth.
Then, with a hopelessly forlorn wave to Luka, Marinette slipped out of the flat.
Biting his lip, Adrien turned to face Luka, and the apologies quickly began to tumble out.
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” Adrien stressed. “I never would have let her in if I had known.”
Luka blinked, startled at Adrien’s reaction. “You’re not mad at me?”
Adrien’s head quirked to the side. “Why would I be mad at you?”
Shaking his head, Luka crossed the living room to take a seat on the couch, careful of Adrien’s laptop. “I don’t know. I kept a secret from you just like everyone else you trusted who let you down?”
Adrien winced as he too sat on the couch. “Okay, but it wasn’t really any of my business, so…”
“You’re still really good at making excuses for people who don’t deserve it,” Luka sighed, tipping his head to rest against the back of the couch.
Adrien shrugged. “It’s a defence mechanism. It’s better than feeling bitter and betrayed all the time.”
Luka took a long, steady inhale. “We need to get you some therapy.”
“I’ll go if you go,” Adrien bartered.
Luka looked to the side at Adrien. “You want me to go to therapy?”
Adrien nodded. “For your drinking problem and self-worth issues and martyr syndrome.”
A slow smile spread across Luka’s lips. “…You are mad at me.”
Adrien shrugged again, trying to maintain apathy because it was easier than dealing with the complex mess of what he was actually feeling.
“No.”
He tried to hold onto the fiction that the whole incident was his fault, but it slipped through his grasp like a fish.
“Why didn’t you tell me Marinette was your ex?”
Luka forced himself to meet the wounded accusation flickering like flames in Adrien’s eyes.
“Because it hurt,” Luka answered as honestly as he could. “It’s still too painful to talk or even think about. …You know what that’s like, don’t you?”
Adrien flinched as his own hurt instantly vanished. He moved the laptop and the plate of pastries out of the way to scoot in close to Luka so Adrien could wrap his arms around him.
“Besides,” Luka whispered as Adrien pulled Luka into his chest. “I didn’t want to mess up your relationship with her. I didn’t want you to think you couldn’t be friends with her because she’s my ex and you’re afraid of ending up on the street again if you upset me or something. I know you had feelings for her in the past too, so…I didn’t want to make things complicated.”
“Oh, Luka,” Adrien sighed as he nuzzled Luka’s hair. “…I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For…I don’t know. Existing?” Adrien laughed mirthlessly.
“Don’t be,” Luka stressed as he drew back and sat up. “You’re one of the good things about this universe.”
That assertion got a startled chuckle out of Adrien.
“…Please don’t feel like you can’t be friends with Marinette now.” Luka got them back on topic. “I really don’t want to mess things up between you two. You can have her over. It’s not a problem.”
Adrien rolled his eyes and gave his head a disbelieving shake. “Luka, it is so a problem. I’m not going to invite the woman you’re still a mess because of into your private space. You’ve been emphasizing to me how this is my home and how you want me to feel safe and comfortable here, but what about you?”
Luka’s brow creased infinitesimally. “Me?”
“This is your home too,” Adrien explained. “You should feel safe and comfortable here. Marinette and I will just hang out at her house or some other place.”
Luka pursed his lips, already beginning to feel uncomfortable at the prospect of Adrien and Marinette spending time alone together.
“Maybe…Maybe in a week or two you could start having her over,” Luka suggested.
Adrien arched a suspicious eyebrow.
“I have to get used to being around her again sometime. I do want to stay friends with her once I can stand to see her without feeling like there’s a gaping wound in my chest,” Luka explained.
Plus, Luka knew he’d feel better if he could keep tabs on Marinette and Adrien so that Luka would know when the dreaded event had occurred. He wanted to know as soon as it was certain that he had lost Adrien and Marinette to one another.
Adrien was skeptical about having Marinette over to the flat, but he didn’t argue. “Okay. If you think you’ll be okay, but I don’t want you pushing yourself, all right?”
Luka waved away Adrien’s concern. “Don’t worry, Adrien. I promise it’s fine. And…”
Luka took a deep breath.
“Listen. If you and Marinette decide you want to see each other romantically…”
Adrien stared at his roommate, trying to figure out what Luka actually meant because the words Adrien thought he was hearing made no sense.
Luka sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not saying it won’t hurt, but I’ll get over it because I want you two to be happy more than anything, so if you two decide that that’s what you want, you have my blessing.”
Adrien kept staring for nearly fifteen seconds before he demanded, “Why are you like this?”
Luka’s head slowly tipped to the side. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, why the hell do you think I’d be heartless enough to steal the woman you love from you?” Adrien huffed.
“Adrien, it’s not like that,” Luka tried to explain. “She loves you, and I know how much you loved her in the past, so if you two decide—”
Adrien clamped a hand over Luka’s mouth, physically stopping the flow of idiocy.
“Shut up,” he whispered, voice tinged with hurt. “I’ll have to consult Nino for the final verdict, but I’m pretty sure that’s against the bro code. Now, I’m going to try to repair my friendship with Marinette because she’s someone who’s very important to me, but I have no intention of pursuing anything romantic with her. At least not now or any time in the near future.”
Luka kept quiet, but he thought to himself that the heart didn’t always cooperate. He doubted that Adrien could stop himself from falling for Marinette again just like Luka hadn’t been able to keep his own feelings for Adrien in check.
“Maybe several years down the road something will happen, but that will only be if you’re completely over her and happy with someone else. I’m not a home-wrecker,” Adrien informed hotly, removing his hand from Luka’s mouth. “Okay?”
Luka smiled wanly. “Rarely do we get a choice when it comes to our feelings, especially when that feeling is love, but I appreciate your commitment to the bro code.”
Adrien gave his head a defiant toss. “I may not be able to control my feelings, but I can control my actions.”
Luka’s eyes widened.
“Besides,” Adrien continued, the heat coming out of his voice. “I’m not in any shape to be pursuing a romantic relationship at the moment. I’ve got a lot of healing to do before I think that would be a good idea.”
Slowly, Luka began to nod. “…You constantly amaze me with how mature and wise you’ve gotten.”
Adrien stuck out his tongue. “I needed an adult a lot of times over the past four years, so I became my own adult.”
Luka grimaced. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?”
A genuine smile started to peek out onto Adrien’s lips.
He gave Luka’s hair a playful tussle, replying, “Right back at you. Now get up and let me feed you. It’s time to eat.”
Luka made a show of grumbling and groaning, but he allowed himself to be extracted from the couch and towed to the kitchen.
“What time is it even?”
“A little after three-thirty,” Adrien responded as he headed over to the fridge to get out the potato leek soup Luka had been asking about.
Luka moaned miserably, dropping his head to the countertop. “I have to go to family dinner tonight, and I’m dreading it.”
“Don’t go,” Adrien suggested as if it were that simple.
“Then Juleka will think I’ve been drinking,” Luka mumbled into the granite of the counter.
“You could tell her something came up and you had to stay home with me,” Adrien suggested.
Luka lifted his head. “…Isn’t the fact that you’re back in Paris a secret?”
Adrien shrugged, scooping out some of the soup into two bowls to microwave. “Now that Nino and Marinette know where I am, it kind of takes the pressure off. It’s okay if you tell your family. Say that I’m having a bad day and I need you to watch Disney movies and snuggle with me.”
Luka bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m not very good at lying, and I don’t exactly like the idea of trying to deceive my family. I’d better just go and bite the bullet.”
“If you like, I could go with you,” Adrien offered as he placed the bowls into the microwave. “If you think your family would be okay with it, I mean. I could take some of the spotlight off you and distract them with how I was homeless until you rescued me. Maybe seeing what a mess I am will make you look better by comparison.”
Luka’s forehead crinkled up. “You don’t like talking about all that, though, and Rose and Maman will have lots of questions.”
Adrien shrugged again, putting on a brave smile. “It’s okay. It’s probably not going to be easy, but I’ll do it.”
“You don’t have to,” Luka stressed.
“I want to,” Adrien countered with determination, and then his voice softened, filling with gratitude and tenderness. “You went and faced Marinette to get Plagg back for me. If you can do that, I can spend one night distracting your family so they maybe don’t notice how hungover you are.”
“Adrien,” Luka whispered, profoundly moved by Adrien’s willingness to face an uncomfortable situation for Luka’s sake.
Adrien cocked his head to the side. “Hm?”
Luka swallowed and shook his head. “Nothing. You’re just… You’re really amazing.”
Adrien beamed, shooting Luka a patented wink. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
Luka’s stomach flipped, and his heart fluttered.
Suddenly, he was sure that Adrien was going to be the death of him because there was no longer a doubt that Luka loved this astounding human being.
#Lukadrien#Miraculous Ladybug#Adrien Agreste#Luka Couffaine#Marinette Dupain-Cheng#Plagg#MLB#Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction#Fluff#Reunion#Honest Conversation#Friendship#Pining#Mutual Pining#Slow Burn#Friends to Lovers#Roommates#Mikau's Writings#Zebras Can't Change Their Stripes
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Her Aim Was Getting Better
(Ahit ““““““Coffee Shop AU”““““““ rp log)
This is part of an RP between @displacedentities and myself detailing the meet-up between Luka and Vanessa, when she spikes his coffee with the curse. We did this a while back to get a feel for the characters and how that scene would go down, and they nailed it with how they wrote Vanessa. So I asked them if I could post it. Some of the stuff here was written before we had other things established, so some things like Hatties’s age and how long ago they split might be inconsistent with other posts I’ve made, but Enjoy!
(also forgive me for the way i write my parts, I’m not as practiced at writing rip)
(MysticDoodles) Despite the warm paper cup in her hands, Vanessa couldn't deny the chill in her bones. It had yet to go away since that day in court, biting at her skin and hovering just at the base of her brain stem. It always seemed to grow colder whenever she thought about how she got here... the things she'd said. What she almost did to that poor briefcase jockey in the courthouse.
But it didn't matter, anymore. If anything, her mom was happy she lost that case. Losing her husband and... child had stripped away all excuses she had not to throw herself into her work, and her mother was happy.
Vanessa was not happy.
In fact, she was seething.
Luka took everything from her, that day. Her love, her place in their home. His adorable smile, his laugh... they weren't hers anymore. He only gave them to that- little gremlin. The parasite that took his love away from her, her precious nickname given to their daughter.
Nobody got to be Luka's princess except Vanessa herself. Never again.
She lost the custody battle and her efforts to take Luka's obsession away from him, but she was going to make sure he lost so much more.
Vanessa waited in the autumn breeze, her fingers clenching and unclenching around the coffee cup. Chestnut-infused Columbian. His favorite. A sister cup sat opposite the table, waiting for him. If he was brave enough to show his face. .
(DeusExMakena) He could see her from his car as he pulled into the parking space, sitting at a table by the large window at the front of the coffee shop. How long had it been now? Around five years, right? Hattie was barely a year old when they split.
He used to get so excited about meeting her, being in her presence, making her smile... and now the very thought of just getting out of his car and making eye contact with her left a pit in his stomach. As much as he'd loved this woman in the past, the way she treated their newborn daughter.... he had to stop thinking about it. Starting this meeting out in an angry mood wouldn't be a good idea.
With a sigh he finally willed himself to leave the vehicle, and just as he looked up their eyes met. The pit in his stomach deepened as he walked up to the cafe doors.
(MysticDoodles) The ice crept up her neck again. Vanessa forced it down, and put up a smile. No reason to start this off as cold as the ice in her veins.
Luka can see from her attire that she's doing rather well- financially, anyway. A thick coat against the autumn chill- or maybe from her heart, so closed off- and a scarf stuffed into her bookbag. Her mother must have improved her stipend, now that they split. What a beastly woman. It's pointless to ponder what-ifs at this point, but maybe if Vanessa's mother had been someone else... no. No point.
With one hand, she gestures to the chair opposite her. Empty and waiting. "Hello, Luka. I got your favorite. You're doing well?"
...the tenor isn't as friendly as it sounds, and feels more plastic than her smile appears.
(DeusExMakena) He hesitates, looking around the venue at the other tennants before wordlessly taking the seat across from her, mostly staring at the coffee cup in front of him.
Why is he having such a hard time looking at her?
"I'm... fine," he manages to force out as he takes the cup in both hands. Come on, man just get this over with and you can go home. "So uh, what brings you here?"
He wishes he could kick himself in the face for how out of place he feels, right now. What do you even say to someone you haven't seen in years, when the last time you saw them had been after an intense battle over the custody rights of the child you fought so hard to protect?
At least the warmth of the cup in his hands provides him with some reassurance.
(MysticDoodles) Something in Vanessa's smile twitches, but it's gone before he can really tell what it was.
"Oh- I just wanted to chat, catch up on old times, you know? I'm guessing the bar exam went well?"
...
Awkward silence, as Vanessa turns her smile away. She lifts her own coffee cup to her lips and takes a long drink, looking at the pavement.When she sets it down, there's a brief moment where her fingertips looked blue. It soon fades back into perfectly trimmed nails.
"...you know why I called you here, Luka. Don't make me lie to you." Her voice grows quiet, though pensive or frustrated is difficult to parse. "You were always better at lying, anyway."
(DeusExMakena) He squints slightly at that last remark and has to do enrything in his power to hold his tongue.
"I dont, actually. With the way things ended the last time we saw eachother, I was almost sure that would be it." he says, probably with a bit more venom in his tone than he should have used, but he was here for less than 10 minutes, now, and he could already feel his patience waning.
"But if you're really just here to reconnect, you'll have to forgive me" he takes a moment to swirl the cup in front of him before lifting it towards his mouth "I'm not very good at small-talk."
Chestnut-infused Columbean bean. Cream and Sugar. So nice to know that she never forgot.
(MysticDoodles) Vanessa smiles as he takes a drink. It's gone by the time he removes the cup again.
"...sorry," she says. Her stony expression shifts into a frown. This wasn't how she expected this conversation to go- but really, she had been expecting nothing, so no pain or gain thus far. "I'm not being very polite, am I? I guess I just- missed you, Luka. It's very different, going back to my mother's apartment after-... well. Being with you."
...
Another quiet sip. Vanessa runs her finger on the plastic cap.
"...do you miss the nights after we studied, when we'd just sit on the couch together and watch garbage movies?"
Before Harriet came along, she didn't say aloud.
(DeusExMakena) Of course he did, he loved her. And as much as he'd love to revisit those moments, to relive the sense of elation he felt when he got her to laugh over awkward acting and nonsensical writing... He just couldn't forgive her for what she did.
He sighs, opting to indulge in her to see where she's going with this.
"Yeah," He takes another sip, looking back down at the table "Sometimes I still wonder why that had to stop."
(MysticDoodles) There's no way he misses the way her fingers tighten on the paper coffee cup. Especially since it's accompanied by an audible pop of paper crumpling in a half inch, and liquid sloshing within.
"They did stop, Luka."
How could he be so blind?
"They stopped when you stopped spending them with me. You spent all your time with our daughter, and not with the loving wife who gave her to you. Don't you see how unfair that is? I deserved your time, too."
Vanessa sighs, her words almost chastising. It reminded of the times she shifted into 'disappointed mother' mode around Harriet. Their one year old, at the time, who didn't understand consequences for things like dropping a toy in the sink. She even had the nerve to sound hurt as she speaks those words.
(DeusExMakena) He is absolutely apalled.
"I-" he doesnt know why he cant find the words to respond. His eyes wide and his eyebrows furrow as he glares directly at her. He shouldnt be surprised by this, really, he saw this coming. Five years, and some things will just never change.
Luka pinches the bridge of his nose, he MARRIED this woman.
"I'm sorry, are we- are we really doing this again?" He sets his coffee cup on the table with a little more force than he wanted to, "You do realize you're getting jealous over a literal one-year old that we both agreed that we wanted to have. I'm her father, I'm sorry, again, for doing my job and raising our child."
(MysticDoodles) Vanessa's long-suffering expression hardens back into stone, pouting out her lip as once more, Luka shows no signs of budging on his stance. How very lawyerlike of him. To the bitter end, he would fight for his side of the case against the opposition. She wished they didn't have to be on opposite sides, anymore, yet here she was for the second time.
"Is it so wrong that I wanted to spend more time with my husband? All toddlers need to learn to share, anyway." Vanessa shrugs, as if this were no big deal. "You never spent evenings with me, anymore, Luka. Every night that you came back from graduate classes and networking with firms, you would go right to her. The honeyed words for me didn't come until dinner, if they came at all. And don't talk to me like I wasn't a good mother- I kept her out of trouble during the day, whenever I was out of rotation."
...
"How is my little Harriet doing? It's been so long since you've squirreled her away."
(DeusExMakena) No. No, no, no, he's not doing this again
"You..." He tries to hold his tongue, but peck, he doesnt want to deal with this right now. He feels his hands ball into fists "No. I'm sorry, no, you don't get to ask how my daughter is doing. You had every opportunity to join us, no one was stopping you from being happy but yourself! You wanna talk about sharing? Then why are you throwing a fit over a over a child spending time with her father?"
...
"She wanted a relationship with you, you know. It's... really hard having to explain to a five-year-old that she doesnt get to see her mother because she was too immature to realize 'oh hey! I could hang out with both my daughter AND my husband at the same time!'" He says that last bit in a mocking tone as he picks up his coffee and goes in for another sip, glaring straight at his ex-wife with pure exasperation.
(MysticDoodles) There he goes again. His daughter.
This time, Vanessa doesn't look away as she returns the glare. The medical graduate holds unflinching eye contact as she lifts her own cup and downs half the contents. Trying to make a statement, maybe? She always did have issues with competition.
"...so where does that leave us, then? You drink the coffee I got you, and walk away? Are you really so set on burning this bridge, Luka? Things can go back to the way they were, if you really want it that way. My stipend will get us through the rest of exams, and then we can live a good life together - high paying jobs, a comfortable apartment, as many dates and trashy movie nights as we want. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"
...she didn't say a word about five-year-old Harriet.
(DeusExMakena) Luka takes a moment to stare at her, eyes half-lidded and tired.
He picks up the cup and downs the rest of his coffee, before placing it back on the table and standing up from his seat, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Allow me to light the match for you."
With that, he turns towards the door, ready to leave. Why would he feel bad about burning a bridge that leads nowhere?
(MysticDoodles) Luka can hear the squeal of the metal chair legs as Vanessa stands abruptly from her seat. There's no click of heels on riverstone, but he knows she's got her fists clenched at her sides, watching him. She always did that when she was angry. Maybe this time she'd have some ice on her wrists, now that her abilities were public. She'd put less effort into hiding it after the court case, anyway.
"YOU'RE MAKING A MISTAKE!" Vanessa yells after him as he continues, stride unbroken. "You'll regret this! You won that case, but you'll always be my prince, and I'll always be your princess!"
But legally, she couldn't touch him, now. Luka and Harriet were no longer family. He knew that, and she knew he did.
...
Oh well.
The door closes with a crnk-ling of the bell, and the background noise of the cafe starts to fade back into her awareness. Or lack thereof. Everyone nearby was staring, not that she cared.
Stiffening her upper lip, Vanessa grabs her bag and loops it back over one shoulder. She pats the side, removing the scarf off the copy of 'Ancient Botanicals & You' she'd found at the antique bookshop, and tying the garment back around her neck. With one hand she picks up Luka's cup, and looks inside.
Empty.
A smile traces her lips as she takes it along with her own, and tosses them both into the trash can.
Now all she had to do was wait and see.
#ahit#a hat in time#ahit 'coffee shop au'#The Snatcher#Queen Vanessa#fic#fanfic#kiiiinda??#displacedentities#mysticdoodles#lemme know if i should tag anything
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Marinette was just tired, staring down at the ice cream on the ground as Andre scrambled to get her another. A fun time with her friends to run around Paris and maybe get a chance with Adrien had turned into a spotlight of embarrassment for her. The "couple time" her friends had been planning on having was now ruined to focus entirely on her, when all she wanted now was curl up into a corner and cry.
She felt bitter, watching as the mess on the bridge started to melt. It was like some sort of metaphor for how her attempts and opportunities all failed or slipped through her grasp, slowly but surely.
Andre grabbed her wrist and practically forced a replacement ice cream cone into her hand, saying stuff about how the magic doesn't lie and he must've just gotten the colors wrong, but she honestly wasn't listening anymore. She was in her own head, wondering, What would've been the point anyway? It's not like Adrien was coming to see me.
She couldn't see any reality in which that was false. He would've come for his friends, or for the thrill of the search, or maybe even just to have some ice cream. Even if she'd managed to make it all work out and share with him, what were the odds of everything afterward working out? She'd try to say something romantic and would mess it up, or he'd misunderstand and brush it off as nothing, or she'd be bumped into again and send the ice cream right onto his expensive clothes.
She winced at the thought. Maybe him not showing up was just a blessing in disguise, saving her from the humiliation of doing anything and having it all go wrong.
Marinette didn't want to make a big deal out of it, refusing to risk ruining her friends' time further. She diverted her attention to the ice cream cone in her hand, noting the blue and pink colors that she suspected were her own. Maybe Andre had just truly given up on her and this was the sign that it was a lost cause?
Or maybe he just realized that there was no way Adrien was coming and tried to save himself.
She stepped aside from everyone and sat down at a bench, keeping her distance from the happy couples while she poked at the ice cream with her tiny spoon. Andre wasn't exactly wrong if her thoughts on his mindset were true. Adrien always seemed to be unavailable when it mattered, and if she wanted to let herself spiral a little more, it almost seemed intentional.
After all, wasn't it a little too convenient that Adrien had missed out on the preparation for the music festival - when it would've been easiest for her to talk to him - just to show up afterward? Or for Adrien to have gotten the okay to go for ice cream only to be suddenly unavailable? Perhaps it would've been easy to pass those off if it weren't for the fact that Nino so rarely complained about their time together, and Adrien's schedule had been magically free when it came to him setting Nino up with her.
If her suspicions were accurate, then either Adrien knew how she felt and was doing everything possible to avoid her, or he just generally found her uncomfortable to be around; maybe even thought she was weird. Part of her wanted to defend that, suggesting that saying nothing was the "nice" thing to do, but her history of crushing on him when she apparently had no chance would disagree with that. She would've saved herself a lot of time then.
She huffed to herself, scooping up a bit of her ice cream and resolving to eat her sorrows away instead. Faintly recalling Andre's comment about how the magic only works if you eat it, she shook her head in disbelief and thought with a bittersweet expression, If I need magic to make him come see me, then what's the point?
She had opened her mouth, ready to finally taste the sweet treat, when a voice called out, "Marinette?"
Marinette paused, looking towards the source. Luka was standing just at the end of the bridge, presumably having been walking by as he spotted her. She smiled, wordlessly inviting him over, and he returned it as he made his way towards her.
"What are you up to?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"I was just taking a walk to the Trocadéro," he replied, his casual tone assuring her that she wasn't delaying anything serious, "but then I heard your song and wanted to check."
She ducked her head shyly, using her ice cream as an excuse to look away from him. She finally ate a bit, letting the taste of blueberry melt into her mouth. Already, she was feeling a little better.
When she looked back up, Luka hadn't looked away from her. Their friends (if they were Luka's friends anyway; they might've only been Juleka's) were only a small distance away, as well as the ice cream stand, but he didn't seem inclined to leave even to go say "hi."
Smiling, Marinette used her spare hand to pat the spot on the bench next to her, not unlike when he invited her to sit on his bed. Luka didn't waste any time, happily taking a seat beside her.
Whether or not he knew the legend, she was certain that he must've seen both the couples as well as the ice cream they were sharing that was made exactly like hers. She felt grateful at the idea that he was intentionally not prodding, even if he might've been curious.
"Someone didn't show," she explained anyway, fidgeting with her cone, "but I also might've gotten ditched."
He frowned, a hand going to her shoulder in sympathy. "I'm so sorry."
She shook her head, appreciating but not needing the comment. "It's okay. It was never going to work out anyway."
She wondered for a second if she was just fooling herself, but Luka's smile assured her otherwise. If he believed her, she must've meant it.
"Still," Luka began as he leaned back, crossing his ankles before continuing, "in our band, Rose writes the lyrics and I'm in charge of the music. Jule and Ivan feel bad about it sometimes, but we're all putting in effort to make it come together, so we don't mind."
Marinette hummed, nodding as she took that in. She could understand that, of course, given that she'd put effort into just about everything she did, from gaming to fashion to romance.
She never got any effort returned for the latter, either because it all went bad before reaching its intended recipient or it didn't change anything. She still had to ask for Adrien's whereabouts and information when she wanted to know, she'd thought they'd bonded over a shared love of games yet he never mentioned it to her again, and in retrospect, despite her image of him as the kind prince locked away in a tower, he hadn't given her a hand or showed any concern when Chloe shoved her.
The one thing she could think of was the charm he'd given her on her birthday based on the charm that she'd given him - which was so often a defense she came up with in her head - only now she’d finally remembered that she had loaned it to him and he'd just held onto it, thus making the situation seem substantially less romantic. It also didn't escape her that her luck had somehow gotten worse since then, even it was just the universe personally spiting her. "Hey, I'm glad you like having my luck and everything, but can I have it back?" she asked the imaginary Adrien in her head.
Luka had the luxury for her of being an "outsider" to all of it. They'd only met recently, so his knowledge of her relationships was extremely limited. Had it been one of the girls instead, they probably would've asked before she'd even gotten the chance to bring it up.
This was nice. Luka was nice. She still felt bubbly thinking about his apology at the first sign she was upset by him, how his first instinct was to protect her from the akuma, and the way he asked about her first to Ladybug even after having safely hidden her away. It was entirely possible that it had nothing to do with her and that it was just how Luka cared for people, but she actually liked that thought more.
"...Oh," she uttered in realization, noting that she was sitting there with ice cream while Luka wasn't. She turned to him, ensuring that he could see the second spoon still stuck in the ice cream. "Do you want any?"
His gaze flickered from the ice cream to her, confirming that she meant her ice cream. She nodded and he happily took the second spoon, adding a soft, "Thanks. I don't know what you got, but I love the colors."
She beamed, admiring the way his black nails stuck out against the color of the spoon as he scooped some of the ice cream she'd yet to try. Even in his mannerisms, he was such a sweetheart—
Wait.
"Ah—Luka, stop!" Marinette hurried to say, reaching out but not quite touching his wrist. "That's Sweetheart's Ice Cream! Maybe we should get you a different one."
He stopped, blinking at her confusedly. She'd honestly thought he'd know what she was talking about without her having to explain, but he seemed truly clueless.
"Um..." She gestured at it with her free hand. "People go all over Paris looking for Andre so they can taste his Sweetheart's Ice Cream." She raised a finger as she made her point. "They say that if two people eat it together, they'll be together forever!"
Huh. It actually sounded a little ridiculous when she said it to someone who didn't know.
She forged on anyway, figuring that she might as well finish what she started, "I-I don't want to magically attach us together? Especially because you didn't know that and..." She pouted, unsure if it was okay to touch on the topic but adding, "I thought you might have a girlfriend already? Or a boyfriend?"
Luka's eyes left hers to look at the tiny bit of ice cream on his spoon. He turned it left and right like he was trying to spot what exactly made it so magic, but it looked blatantly like normal, plain ice cream.
Eventually, he shrugged, catching her free hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Thanks for looking out for me, Marinette, but I've never had anyone like that."
"Wh—really?" The shock of him knowing nothing of Sweetheart's Ice Cream paled in comparison to him never having had a partner. "So you're single?"
She'd asked out of sheer curiosity, but blushed when it became apparent how they sounded.
Luka, her savior from embarrassment, didn't even flinch and took it in stride. "Yeah." He looked back down at the ice cream, wondering aloud, "Do you believe in it?"
"Believe in...?" It took Marinette a second to remember what they'd been talking about. She followed his gaze to the ice cream, thinking the question over seriously. Could there actually be a magical solution to tie her to someone, or even just to help? Her parents had gotten together and thought fondly of their time with Sweetheart's Ice Cream, but did they actually believe in it? As Luka had asked, did she believe in it?
"...No. I don't think so," she sighed.
Funnily (or maybe tragically) enough, being Ladybug and getting exposed to the world's "magic" had made her more critical of the idea. "Magic" never actually solved any of her problems and often made them worse instead.
"I like what you said," she added with a self-conscious chuckle, "about effort. Sharing ice cream is nice, but there's no magic to it."
He nodded in agreement. "We don't have to worry then."
"Are you sure?" she continued to prod, though at this point it might not have been about the "magic" element anymore.
Instead of answering, he finally ate the ice cream that had been on his spoon, a pleased hum following at the taste. "Even if it was true, I wouldn't mind."
"You... wouldn't mind being tied to me?" she asked, her blush deepening. His directness was good - really, really good - because it left no room for her to misinterpret it, but she certainly wasn't used to it.
"Mhm." He confirmed it like it wasn't a big deal, but there was a warmth to his face that could've melted the ice cream on contact. "You're talented, amazing, and brave. Why wouldn't I?"
Marinette had experienced flirting before, but only under a mask. Even beyond Chat, there were a few people she'd saved who couldn't help but get a word in about how pretty she was or how awesome it was that she'd thrown the akuma into a web she'd fashioned out of her yoyo.
This was different though. He wasn't saying it to charm her, or gush about strength and dexterity she could only achieve after being powered up. He was just saying how he honestly felt without an ounce of exaggeration.
Shy, she attempted to take a bit more ice cream to give herself time to respond, but a bit turned to a lot when she mistakenly scooped too much. Trying not to laugh, she bit her bottom lip, almost in awe by how things had turned around after just a bit of introspection. She hadn't even realized how much was weighing her down until she let it all go.
"...Luka," she dared to call, throwing caution to the wind. When their gazes met, she held the spoon out to him encouragingly.
His lips parted for a moment - the first sign of throwing him off she'd gotten today - but like a puppy being offered a treat, he obediently leaned over and opened his mouth further to clamp down on the ice cream.
It did actually feel a little magic, but she was certain that it wasn't the legend's doing.
——
——
Marinette walked into her kitchen, letting her long hair down as she prepared to relax for the day. It was still strange getting used to having her own house, but not unwelcome, and one of the biggest pluses was that she didn't have to dig through her parents' weird dessert tastes in the freezer to get to what she wanted.
Pulling out two containers of ice cream at random - welcoming a little chaos in mixing the flavors - she set them on the counter and took out two bowls as well. Scooping an appropriate amount of the two flavors into them ("appropriate" for a lazy day anyway), she added one spoon in each before putting the containers back and taking the bowls out to the living room.
Luka, her boyfriend of almost five years, was skimming through a selection of movies on the couch to decide what they should watch. At the first sight of her though, he stopped, setting them down and welcoming her close.
She set her bowl down on the table, holding the other out to him and taking the time to give him a kiss on the forehead. He responded by pulling her down to kiss her chin, never one to leave a smooch unreturned.
Pulling back, she took in the sight of him holding ice cream and giggled. Unapologetically, she stated, "I guess that ice cream legend was right after all. You've already been stuck with me for years."
Luka raised a brow at her and smirked, catching the joke instantly. He held his arm out, allowing her to plop down next to him and snuggle against his side. "Mm, maybe I should've listened to you back then." Their lips met in a kiss as he blindly reached for the spoon in his bowl, scooping up some ice cream with it. "But you know what I said."
Marinette nodded, tucking her hair behind her earring-less ears before accepting the bite he fed her. "Mhm~" She took her time to savor the taste before swallowing, smiling contentedly as she responded, "I didn't mind being tied to you either."
#queuekanette#lukaneventte: No Context November#Flower Arrangement Shipping#Pro LukaMari#Lukanette#type: salt#episode: Glaciator#((Every episode where stuff like this happens to her my brain just jumps to))#((okay but what if this was the one where she realized ''hey maybe the hand I was dealt kinda sucks?''))#((I was going to say that this is nothing but self-indulgence but that's technically every Lukanette piece I write))
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Demon Alya fic snippit
Feel free to do what you want with this. (If you want to put it on your blog or AO3 or something as a related work, I don’t mind).
—-
This, Juleka thought as she strained at the ropes which bound her tightly inside the bloody pentagram, is really not my day.
“The hour grows nigh!” shouted the loudest (and smelliest) of the five hooded dorks who were standing around the pentagram, one per point, and intermittently chanting while waving cloying incense around. “Soon a powerful demon shall accept our sacrifice and manifest before us, and in exchange for our undying loyalty and our immortal souls, shall grant us vast power over this world!” He spread his hands. “Rejoice, my coven! Rejoice!”
“Rejoice!” repeated the four idiots, as Juleka termed them, to the lead idiot. “Rejoice!”
Juleka thrashed a little but still couldn’t get out, and she growled to herself. If she somehow got out of this, she told herself, she would learn for her mistakes. For instance, the next time Rose had to cancel their date because something came up, Juleka would not browse around online until she found a meet up for people who ‘believed in the occult’ and ‘wanted to explore the horrors lurking beneath the world’s surface with an open mind,’ and even if she found such a group she certainly wouldn’t go to check it out without telling anyone where she was heading. Or at the very least, if she did go, she’d get better at dodging so that if a bunch of creepy robed guys jumped up from their Dungeons and Dragons spellbooks and tried to seize her again she’d be able to get away.
But that presupposed she’d be able to escape in the first place, and unfortunately, it seemed like the one things these guys were good at was tying people up. She wondered briefly if she could try to get mad enough that Hawkmoth would akumatize her and give her the power to escape (and throw these idiots into the Seine), but she knew that if Hawkmoth was paying attention he’d likely have already sensed her anger and done that. And besides, even if she did get akumatized, wouldn’t the Miraculous Cure put her right back down here when Ladybug finished beating her up and de-akumatizing her?
“We have already laid the incense and slain the goat!” the first guy went on. “And painted the pentagram in the goat’s blood!” Juleka gagged. “Now-”
“Are you sure your Mom is cool with us killing a goat in her backyard?” another of the robed guys suddenly asked. “I mean, it kind of made a mess.”
The leader shook his head. “When we get our demonic powers, we won’t need to worry about messes or moms. We’ll be able to do whatever we want. We could–we could stay out after curfew! Order two desserts at dinner! Make girls hang out with us!”
Juleka wondered if it was possibly to die of sheer secondhand embarrassment.
“Now, the hour is nigh at last!” the shouty guy yelled. “And as for our sacrificial victim: know that your death is not in vain, for with your blood we shall obtain the power to change the world!” He grabbed a knife from within his robes and Juleka’s eyes widened; despite everything she realized that on some level she hadn’t thought these losers would actually do it. “Have you any last words before your soul is sent to the realm of the demons?”
Juleka debated a dozen different responses, but none seemed right–she wasn’t going to beg and plead with these morons, or even threaten them; there was no point and she wouldn’t satisfy them by looking angry or terrified. So she settled on, “You’re holding that knife wrong.”
“What?” The robed guy seemed to have been knocked out of his spiel. “I–no I’m not! The pointy end–”
“If you’re going to sacrifice someone, you grip it differently,” said Juleka in an annoyed tone. “You’re holding it backwards, like you’re going to stab up at someone. For a sacrifice you aim the knife down at the sacrificial altar. And you use a different knife in the first place, one specifically for rituals.”
The other robed guys stared at the leader as he fumbled with his blade. “This is a ritual blade!” he insisted.
“Ritual blades are made of special materials and don’t have serrated edges like that,” Juleka said. “That's… dude, I think that’s a steak knife.”
Everyone froze. “It is not!” the lead guy yelled at last. “It is magic! Look, this sigil on the hilt we could not decipher–”
“That’s the logo of the cutlery store down the street,” Juleka noted.
All of the other robed guys looked at each other. “How do you know so much about knives?” one asked Juleka.
Because my Mom has one and every so often she insists on telling me about how she dated a coven leader one time and has her ritual dagger to prove it, Juleka thought. It’s the story that comes after the 'I dated a pirate and here’s the scimitar to prove it’ one and before the 'I dated a magician who I think might have had actual fey lineage and here’s some other sword to prove it’ one.
Juleka loved her mother dearly, but she had to admit that Anarka was… not entirely moored in reality at times.
“No! She knows nothing!” the leader raved before Juleka could answer. “And besides, I know the knife is real! I bought it on EBay from a genuine wizard; it said so right in his seller profile!” The leader took a breath. “I mean, come on, do you really think I would have spent eight hundred francs on a ritual dagger that was forged in the fires of Hell itself if there was any chance it was just a steak knife?”
“Based on what I know of you,” said Juleka, “I think you’d spent your life savings on a rock if a guy with a mysterious accent told you it could give you magic powers, but would only work once he took all your money and left town so you couldn’t get a refund.”
“She’s got you there, dude,” said another of the robed guys.
The leader roared something inarticulate. Then he slashed down and cut Juleka’s cheek, just enough to draw a trickle of blood that spilled down and touched the pentagram. And then, to Juleka’s amazement, the circle actually began to glow and hiss. “We’re doing it!” gasped the leader. “See? I was right! This works!”
Juleka felt herself growing warm as the pentagram heated up. The blood suddenly ignited and Juleka cringed away from it, but the only place to hide was the pentagon in its center, and the smoke from the burning goat blood was all drifting there despite the absence of a breeze in the dingy basement. She was forced to roll into the pentagon and hide against one of its edges as the smoke coalesced. “Demon, we summon you!” the leader was yelling. “We bid you speak your name! Have we summoned the mighty Asmodeus? The brilliant Mephistopheles? The great Balphagor? The–”
A crack of thunder sounded and the smoked cleared, revealing the shape of a girl a little shorter than Juleka. The figure had horns, red skin, small wings sticking out of her back, and a tail with a spade on the end, but otherwise looked like a regular girl. In fact, she looked like a very familiar girl to Juleka. She had red hair, a beauty mark on her face, glasses, a red-and-white checkered shirt–
Wait.
“Um, Alya?” Juleka managed. “What’s going on?”
The redhead didn’t seem to notice her as she spread her arms and beamed at the robed guys. “You have summoned the demon Alya Cesaire!” she said. “Are you prepared to trade your immortal souls in exchange for great power?”
“Oh yes!” said the robed leader. “And we even prepared a sacrifice for you, oh mighty demon!” He pointed. “You can rip out her heart whenever you want!”
Alya glanced down, then froze. “Juleka?” she said. “Is that you? What are you doing?”
“Being sacrificed by these idiots, apparently.” Juleka briefly wondered if she was going crazy, but this didn’t seem like the kind of thing she’d hallucinate. Somehow, someway, Alya Cesaire had teleported in and at least appeared to be a demon. Maybe this was some weird akuma, or a new miraculous user with a demon theme for some reason (although Juleka personally felt that if anyone got a 'demon’ miraculous it would be LIla Rossi), but whatever was going on, it was really happening. So she’d just have to find some way to deal with it. “Alya, what’s going on? What are you doing?”
“They summoned me–” Then Alya caught herself. “Wait, no no no, you’re not supposed to know about me! Oh no, Nora is going to slaughter me…”
Everyone stared at Alya as she took a few breaths, suddenly looking less like a demonic tempter and more like an unhappy teenager who was about to get grounded. “How do you know these guys?” Alya asked Juleka at last.
“I don’t! They said they were looking at occult stuff, so I came by and they jumped me when I showed up!” Juleka insisted. “I don’t know them!”
Alya stared at her, and Juleka saw a truly frightening look of anger cross the girl’s face for a brief moment before Alya turned back to the cultists. “Did you seriously just try to sacrifice a random stranger to me?“
"…yes?” said the leader. “I mean, we’re not going to sacrifice someone we like–”
“It’s not a sacrifice unless you sacrifice someone you like!” said Alya, sounding both angry and exasperated. “The whole point of this is you’re promising to forswear any earthly attachments in order to devote yourself to demonic causes, you idiot! You can’t just kill some random stranger to do that! If it’s not someone close to you, someone where it’d mean something for you to betray them and give them up, there’s no point!”
“So,” said Juleka, “what you’re saying is, if Luka was going to sacrifice me for some reason, you’d be cool with it.”
Alya looked down at her with a hurt expression. “I mean, not you specifically, but…” She caught herself and quickly coughed before turning back to the cultists. “I can’t accept this sacrifice,” the demon said more loudly. “I–”
“You have to!” crowed the lead cultist. “We summoned you. It’s a bargain, and you can’t leave until you take the sacrifice and give us the powers we want! And if you don’t do what we want we’ll cast spells on you to hurt you!”
“That isn’t how that works!” Alya rolled her eyes. “The only power you have is the power I give you! You can’t use it against me or I’ll just take it back! Devil below, did you put even five minutes of thought into this?"
"You have to!” repeated the leader. “Or you can’t leave. Look, we don’t care if you take the girl, but give us our powers already!”
The demon and the cultist leader stared at each other for a long time. Finally, Alya said, “And what powers do you want, exactly?”
“All of them!” said one of the other cultists.
“Yeah, you’re going to need more than one sacrifice for that,” Alya snarked.
“Then we’ll start with just one.” The cultist leader grinned. “I know. The one we discussed earlier. Make girls like us!”
The other cultists nodded. “Yeah, I need a girlfriend,” said one. “Someone who doesn’t care about dumb illogical stuff like 'showering,’ and who doesn’t mind me playing games with my friends all night.”
“Why just one?” The lead cultist rubbed his hands together. “You, demon. Make us irresistible to girls in general. We’re smart; we deserves harems!” He chuckled. “Oh, and we can have them wrestle to see who gets to spend each night with us!”
Alya exchanged astonished and exasperated glances with Juleka. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “You–”
“I read there was this Chinese emperor who had a harem of a thousand girls,” said another cultist. “So many that when he wanted to go on a date he had a donkey take his carriage around the harem quarters and just dated whichever women was closest when the donkey stopped, so the women put out salt and carrots and stuff to make his donkey stop by them. Give us the power to have that many girls!”
Alya shut her eyes for a long moment. “I might be able to do something,” she said at last. Her tone was a bit off and Juleka noted that this was how Alya sounded when she was lying, but the cultists didn’t seem to realize that. Alya went on to say, “But not with me in here and you out there. Step into the pentagram and I can give you power.”
The leader grinned. One of his subordinates said, “Hey, aren’t we supposed to stay outside that thing?”
“It’s fine. The demon knows who’s boss,” said the leader as he entered. (Juleka managed to roll over so she had a good view of the guy; she figured Alya was about to wreck him and wanted to see it when that happened.) “And maybe she’s charmed by me. After all, I did summon her, and it’s not like I’m a bad catch. I speak fluent Klingon and–”
Alya surged forwards as soon as the guy got into the pentagram, then rammed her hand into the guy’s chest. Juleka gasped but no blood leaked out, and then Juleka realized that Alya had somehow phased her hand into his body without harming his physical self. The guy cried out, and then Alya withdrew her hand holding a greenish-brown ball of light about the size of a billiard ball. “I do need to take a soul before I can leave here,” she said. “Fortunately, yours qualifies."
"That’s my soul?!” gasped the lead cultist. “Hey, give that back! I–”
“Nope. Mine.” Alya grinned, and Juleka’s eyes widened as she saw that the girl had fangs in this form. She then looked at the captured soul thoughtfully and said, “Of course, one soul is fine, but five are better.”
“Five?” said one of the other cultists while the leader just gaped dumbly at his missing soul. “Well, we’re not going in there, so–”
Alya chuckled. “No problem.” She tapped the captured soul and it seemed to glow a little more brightly. “Break this pentagram,” she ordered–and the leader stiffened before mechanically walking over to the pentagram and scuffing out a section of the bloody lines with his foot.
The cultists yelled and began to run. Alya glanced down at Juleka and said, “Be right back,” before blasting after them. Juleka could only watch as Alya’s wings flared and she leapt, hands curled into claws, on top of the slowest fleeing cultist and ripped out his soul too. Then she threw some kind of fireball–Hellfire?–at the stairs, blasting them out and cutting off the cultists’ escapes from the basements, before she jumped at another.
The battle was over in less than a minute, at which point Alya–now casually juggling five ball-like souls in one hand–ordered the cultists to 'sit down and shut up’ before hurrying back to Juleka and slashing the ropes with her talon-like fingers. “Are you okay?” Alya asked quickly. “Did they hurt you?”
“Not too bad.” Juleka managed. She stood and stretched before backing up a step and looking at her demonic friend. “So. Um…”
Alya hesitated, and then her head dropped. “Yeah,” she said in a voice that actually sounded sad. “I know. You know about me and now you’re scared and you think I’m awful and–”
“Hold on,” said Juleka quickly. “I’m not afraid of…” The word 'monsters’ seemed rude, so Juleka looked for a better one. “…unusual people,” she said at last. And it was true. She didn’t know exactly what Alya’s deal was, but now that her life wasn’t at stake, she wasn’t feeling nearly as scared anymore. Not scared enough to lose faith in a friend, even one with a demonic appearance, anyways. “I mean, you did save me from these guys–thanks for that–and we’re friends, so–”
“We’re still friends?” Alya asked quickly. “Really?”
“Of course, and–agh!” Juleka flinched as Alya rushed to hug her. The girl smelled like sulfur and brimstone, which Juleka decided really shouldn’t have been that surprising. Despite herself, Juleka felt a small smile coming to her mouth as she hugged Alya back. “Yes. We’re still friends. ”
Alya grinned. “You’re the best, Juleka.”
Juleka nodded, then saw something. “Um, Alya?”
“Yes?”
“I think you just dropped one of your souls.” She pointed at the ball of light–this one a brownish-black–which had just fallen out of Alya’s hands and was rolling away towards what looked like a small hole in the floor. “So-”
“Agh!” Alya immediately sprang for the soul. Juleka wasn’t sure what Alya planned to do with it in the end, but she hoped it was something mean. The guy had tried to murder her, after all. “Bad soul! No running away! I need you to make my quota!"
Juleka couldn’t help but giggle as Alya gave chase. This might not have started out as her day… but her life had been saved, she’d discovered an amazing secret about her friend, and things were starting to look up.
Chapter 2
Juleka had taken a few minutes to rest on the (gross) couch and munch a pudding pop from the cultists’ fridge while Alya fixed the summoning pentagram. "Just need to drop them off,” she had said cheerily. “Be back in a minute.” And then she’d vanished in a puff of smoke and brimstone along with the souls.
“So,” Juleka had said after a little bit. “Are you guys, uh, okay?”
The cultists gave her blank looks that were… well, 'soulless’ was probably how Juleka would describe it.
“Meh.” Juleka finished her pudding, then looked in the fridge again and grabbed a soda. “You guys deserve it.”
Alya reappeared with a flourish and another blast of sulfur. “Alright!” she chirped to the guys. “Your souls are now safely stored in my demesne Down Below. I'l be in touch with your orders.” She turned to Juleka and seemed to hesitate for a moment before catching herself. “Want to get out of here?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Juleka rose. At the same time, Alya shimmered and then her body took on the form Juleka was familiar with–no horns, no wings, no tail, and skin that was brown and definitely not red. “Let’s go.”
As they left the house, Juleka glanced back at Alya. Her mind was bursting with questions and she barely knew where to start. “So, uh–”
“You weren’t just saying that before, right?” Alya asked suddenly. “About still being friends with me despite, you know…?”
“Of course I wasn’t just saying it.” Juleka paused. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to be friends with someone that went around hurting innocent people, but the only people I saw you hurt were the guys that tried to kill me. And I know you. I can’t imagine you ever hurting an innocent. As long as you’re only going after really bad people like those guys, I don’t care.”
Alya let out a breath. “I’m glad to hear it,” she said, and Juleka thought she sounded sincere. “That's… that means a lot.” She managed a smile. “I’m sure you have questions.”
“More than a few.” Juleka considered, then went for one of the simplest ones. “So when you get someone’s soul, you just order them around? Can you control them directly?”
“Not exactly. It’s not like how Max can program Markov to run certain programs or take specific actions. But when I get someone’s soul I can influence their personality: make them more aggressive, or lazy, or hedonistic, or whatever. We do that to push humans on the paths we want for them. One of the things we can influence is loyalty, so I made those guys loyal to me. There’s limits–I won’t be able to get him to rob a bank or jump off a cliff, because his loyalty won’t be able to override his self-preservation or sanity or whatever–but within reason, now they’ll obey what I say.”
“Hmm.” Juleka paused. “And… just to be clear, you’re an actual demon. Like, this isn’t a really weird akuma or something.”
Alya giggled. “No akuma. No miraculous. Just 100% grade-A demon here. If you have a copy of Dante’s Inferno I can show you the exact circle I was born in.”
“Not necessary,” said Juleka, and the two girls exchanged grins. Then Juleka asked her next question. “So if you’re a demon have you… I don’t know… met the Devil?”
Alya laughed louder. “You’re French; that doesn’t mean you hang out with the Prime Minister,” she said. “I saw the big boss a couple times, including when I got assigned to Paris, but no more than that. Of course, if I do a good job here I could get a promotion.”
“Why are you in Paris specifically?”
“Well…” Alya paused. “Honestly, I got assigned here because I’m junior and the more senior demons filled up the other postings. Not a lot of demons want Paris these days. You can probably guess why.”
Juleka could. “The miraculouses?”
“Right. Historically, some miraculous users were known to go full paladin and strike down tons of demons. So all the demons want jobs in London, or Shanghai, or Abuja, or America–places without miraculous users. I got sent here because they needed someone and I was what was left.” Alya frowned. “But I’m going to do a good job. I’ll impress my superiors and show them all.”
“What exactly is your job?” Juleka thought back. “You mentioned a quota.”
“I just have to bring in so many souls a month,” said Alya. “That’s basically it.”
Juleka nodded. “And I’m guessing you can’t just run around yanking them out of people’s chests whenever you want.”
“Right. I can only 'yank’ the souls of people who make a souls-for-power deal with me, or who are like those cultists and do something evil enough that I can take their soul right away instead of having to wait for them to die–that’s in Dante’s Inferno too, actually, the story about Fra Alberigo–or in a few other circumstances.” Alya waved a hand. “There’s a bunch of rules. So my job is to get people to make a deal or otherwise break one of those rules so I can get their soul.” She smiled. “It’s fun work. Challenging too, since everyone’s different and needs a different strategy to tempt them.”
“What kinds of people do you usually focus on?”
“Well…” Alya’s eyes twinkled. “You know how the news is always wondering why Hawkmoth only akumatizes random people and doesn’t go after professional criminals, people who are already really evil and would work with him willingly?”
Juleka hesitated. “He worked with a criminal one time, when we were in New York.”
“Okay, but just looking at Paris. It’s like he can’t pick criminals. Why do you think that is?”
Juleka got it. “You get to the criminals first. When someone does something so evil it shows they’d probably be willing to work with Hawkmoth, you get their soul and then make them loyal to you and order them not to accept his akumas.”
Alya beamed. “Yep. I get the souls, and Hawkmoth loses a fighter–which means Ladybug is less active and there’s less chance of her discovering me. Win-win.” She paused. “There’s a rumor that a demon was assigned to tempt Hawkmoth and Mayura full-time; get their souls and make them use their miraculousness for Hell instead of whatever their real goals are. But if that’s true, I don’t know who the demon is.”
“Huh. Well, on behalf of Paris–thanks for screwing over Hawkmoth. We appreciate it.”
Alya grinned.
They stopped at the Dupain-Cheng bakery for snacks–Alya bought several pastries, murmuring to Juleka that as a demon she didn’t technically need to eat but she loved the taste of the Dupain-Cheng’s food, while Juleka got some lemon bread and a few Japanese sweets called mochi which she knew Luka liked–and then headed for Alya’s house. Juleka was a little nervous about going into a demon’s lair, but she figured that if there was a giant portal to Hell in the living room or something, Marinette would have noticed during one of her sleepovers at her best friend’s house and mentioned it. “Do you have any cool powers besides the soul thing?” she asked.
“I might,” said Alya in a teasing voice. “Let’s get to my room and I’ll show you.”
Alya let them in and then hurried Juleka into her room. “Is the rest of your family, uh, like you?” Juleka asked as Alya pushed her inside.
“Just Nora. Marelan and Otis couldn’t have kids, and so they made a deal with one of my bosses. In exchange for being able to have Etta and Ella, they’d agree to provide covers for two demons who would be based in Paris. The demon said yes, Marlena and Otis had the twins, and a few years later it was time to make good on their promise, so they took in Nora and I.” Alya shrugged. “It works pretty well. They know they aren’t allowed to interfere in our soul-collecting, but other than that they look after us okay.”
“Is Nora your real sister, or is that part of your cover?” Juleka looked around Alya’s room as Alya shut the door behind them. It certainly didn’t look like the room of a powerful demon who could literally rip out the souls of sinners. But of course Alya didn’t look like such a demon either, at least in her human guise. Looks could be deceiving.
“No, she’s my real sister. And she’s kind of protective of me, which is why it’s probably better if she doesn’t know you know about me.” Alya stretched, then snapped her fingers and dispelled her human glamour. “Ah. Much better.” She stretched again, and Juleka watched in amazement as her wings and tail flared. “Those get so cramped under the glamour.”
Juleka moved a little closer. “Do you mind if I, uh, take a closer look?” Alya gave her a curious look and Juleka blushed. “Sorry, but I find this stuff really cool and–”
“Go right ahead!” Alya beamed and Juleka wondered if she was just happy to have a human friend who thought her true appearance was neat and not scary. Juleka leaned in and marveled at her wings and her waggling tail. “What do you think?”
“I think you’ve got a pretty awesome body,” said Juleka before she realized how that sounded. Alya burst into laughter, Juleka couldn’t help giggling too. “I meant the wings and stuff! Seriously, I’d love to have wings. Flying sounds awesome.”
Alya hesitated, and Juleka blinked. “What, can’t demons fly?”
“We can, but…” Alya blushed, her already-red skin darkening. “It’s kind of embarrassing…”
Juleka got it. “Demons in general can fly, but you specifically can’t.”
“I’ll be able to!” Alya insisted. “My wings just aren’t done growing yet!” Juleka grinned. “I’m serious!” Alya went on.
“Of course you are,” said Juleka neutrally. Alya didn’t seem too put out by the teasing, and Juleka guessed that maybe she was just relieved Juleka was still willing to joke with her instead of freaking out and worrying that Alya would damn her over some tiny slight. “I’m sure you’ll be able to fly. Someday. Far in the future.”
“If you keep teasing me I won’t show you any of my cool demon powers,” Alya sniffed. “And some are really awesome.”
Juleka sat down on the bed. “I’ll be good,” she said, though she was unable to hide her smile. “I saw you throw a fireball at one of those guys–”
“Yeah, I can summon Hellfire!” Alya snapped her fingers and a bright ball of flame, about the size of one of the souls she’d taken from the cultists, appeared in her talon-like hands. (And now that Juleka looked closer, she saw that Alya’s feet were cloven). “This stuff is great. Burns hotter than human flame, and it’s perfect for barbecues. Seriously, meat grilled over this stuff is awesome.”
“Can you possess people?” Juleka asked. “Like in the movies?”
“Some demons can but I’m not good at it.” Alya summoned more balls of fire and began to idly toss them around. “I’m okay at Whispers, though.”
Juleka blinked. “Whispers?"
"Have you ever been talking to a friend or family member and then heard a little voice in the back of your head saying something like, 'they don’t really mean it when they say they like you, they’re just pitying you, and as soon as they can find someone better they’ll abandon you?’ Things like that?”
“Uh…” Juleka couldn’t deny it. That had been worse before Marinette had fixed her photo curse problem, but she did sometimes have to fight off the fear that Rose and the others were only hanging out with her to show her charity. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Sometimes–not always, but sometimes–that’s a demon. Here’s how mine sounds.” Alya focused on Juleka, and her eyes grew a little redder. And then–
Juleka heard a voice in the back of her head. “Juleka,” it hissed in that familiar tone of cynical wisdom, the voice of a grizzled elder cutting through nonsense and delivering the hardest of truths. “You are a bad person. You must redeem yourself by buying more cookies at the Dupain-Cheng bakery for Alya–”
The goth snickered at that and threw a pillow at Alya, who cheerily ducked and impaled it on her left horn. Then Juleka mimed holding her hands straight out as if she were a zombie and meandered in the direction of the door like she was really about to do it. Alya burst into laughter as she removed the pillow from her horn. “Hey, stop, I wasn’t serious! And I’ve already got cookies. I go to her bakery every day.”
Before Juleka could respond, the door slammed open. “I heard noises, sis,” said Nora as she strode in. “What’s going–”
Her eyes flicked to Alya, still in her demon form, and then Juleka. Her face twisted into rage. “Human!” she hissed as she surged forwards, and by the time she’d grabbed Juleka by her collar and slammed her against a wall her body had shifted into a greenish lizard-like thing with four arms, bright yellow eyes, and a forked tongue. Her new form reminded Juleka of a yuan-ti from that Dungeons and Dragons game the cultists had been playing when she’d walked in on them. “Alya, what are you doing?!” Nora demanded. “We can’t show ourselves to humans! What if she calls a paladin or an angel!”
Juleka choked and struggled to escape, but Nora’s demon form was apparently even stronger than her human one and she couldn’t move. Then Alya was rushing towards them. “No, it’s cool! Some idiot cultists summoned me and tried to kill her, but I dealt with them. And hey–I got five souls, I’m ahead of quota–”
“Don’t change the subject!” Nora yelled. “And don’t take her word for things either! Do you really believe she just happened to be there when the cultists summoned you? What if she’s a paladin trying to get in close so she can banish you?”
Nora, Juleka recalled, was sometimes overprotective of her sister. This was apparently one of those times. “I’m not a paladin,” she managed in a deadpan voice. “Seriously.”
“So you say now, but I’ll make you tell the real truth.” Nora’s grip tightened and Juleka winced. Alya opened her mouth to object, but Nora cut her off. “Sis, you know I’m looking out for you. We can’t have humans knowing who we are. So let’s just lock her in the basement until I get the truth out of her and she also agrees to give up her soul in exchange for letting her out. Then you make her super loyal to you so she never talks. Or we just go the other way and have Marlena and Otis move across town and change our identities so she can’t sell us out.”
Juleka thrashed more. “I’m not going to tell anyone!” she insisted instead. “Alya’s a friend, I wouldn’t sell her out!”
Nora gave Juleka an astonished stare and Alya smiled a little. “She means it, sis.”
“We can’t trust that. And even if she’s serious now, these are long-term covers. What happens if in five years you guys have a falling out?” Nora shook her head. “It’s not safe. There’re rules against this for a reason.”
“Those rules have exceptions,” Alya pointed out.
“Yeah–for humans that form cults to worship us and make us stronger. Is she planning on being the high priestess of the Cult of Alya Cesaire or something?”
Alya hesitated. “Uh… yes,” she said. “That’s what she wants to be.”
Juleka swiveled her head to stare at Alya in surprise, but then Nora shoved her into the wall again and Juleka got it–if they could bluff Nora into believing this, the chances of Nora trying to rip out her soul or something would go way down. “Totally,” Juleka lied. “That’s why I was with the cult. I was like, 'I want to find a demonic overlord to pledge my loyalty to,’ and they seemed onboard with that, but then they tied me up and tried to use me to summon Alya. Once she saved me, of course, she earned my undying love and devotion.”
Despite the situation, Juleka saw Alya visibly stifling giggles as she turned away. But Nora was less familiar with Juleka and couldn’t pick up on her sarcasm. “Really,” she said. “That’s your story.”
“Uh huh. I even practiced chanting for hours.”
Juleka wondered if that last line was too much, but Nora gave her a long look before dropping her and stalking over to her sister. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said. “I’ve got a nose like a bloodhound. I could follow you across the English Channel.” Then she grabbed Alya and dragged her out of the room.
Juleka took advantage of Nora’s absence to take a breath and then try to think through her story in more detail. She didn’t know anything about being the high priestess of a demon cult, but she imagined it couldn’t be too hard–some chanting here, some praising the demon there, maybe lighting candles or setting off fireworks on whatever the demonic equivalent of Christmas was. (Although, she somehow doubted Alya actually wanted those things.) And besides, this was just a blufff for Nora. She wouldn’t have to actually go through with it–
The door banged open again as Nora came back in with Alya behind her. “So,” Nora said. “Juleka, right? Why do you want to lead my sister’s cult? What’s in it for you?”
“Uh–”
“Magic?” Nora snapped her fingers and summoned some Hellfire of her own, though her fireball was much larger, about the size of a basketball. “I mean, that’s possible, but I think it’s best we’re all on the same page. Wouldn’t be good if you wanted something she couldn’t give you.”
Juleka opened her mouth, then hesitated. Magic was awesome and she’d love to have the chance to cast spells, but she wasn’t sure if she should say that. Nora still seemed volatile and Juleka figured there were probably 'wrong’ answers to this question which would be very bad for her.
“Or other kinds of power?” Nora went on. “Gold smelted in the fires of Hell? Demons have plenty of that. Or political power? Maybe a boost to your blog? Are you here because you want Alya to get Nadja Chamack’s soul and then induce her to promote you all over Paris?”
Juleka glanced at Alya for just a moment and noticed how nervous the other demon seemed. But then Nora went on. “Or do you want Alya to smite your enemies? Like Hawkmoth, or that Marinette girl who brought you on as a model and then made you so nervous you got re-akumatized into Reflektdoll?” Nora clenched a fist. “Well?”
“Um.” Juleka paused, having no idea what to say. If she got it wrong she was in real trouble, and…
And so why not just tell the truth?
Juleka gulped. “I, uh… I mean, all that stuff sounds cool but it’s not why I’m here. And honestly, I didn’t go to the cult hoping to meet a demon either. I found out about Alya’s whole, uh, demon thing by accident. But she’s a friend, a really good one, and I’m not going to abandon her. And so if being her 'high priestess’ is the only way I can keep my soul and stay her friend without you, I don’t know, changing covers so I never see her again or wiping my mind or something, that’s what I want to do."
Nora stared at Juleka with a stunned look, and then her tongue darted out. "I don’t taste any deceit,” she murmured. “I…”
“See?” said Alya, looking relieved. “I told you she’s legit. You can relax.”
The bigger demon struggled for a moment before growling and saying, “Fine. Bind her properly, sis. Don’t screw it up. I’ll check on you later–I’ve almost got Roundhouse Ron’s soul, and if I can get him to throw the match tonight it’ll be as good as mine. But when I’m done I’ll be back.” She stalked out.
Alya ran to Juleka’s side and hugged her. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I know Nora can be rough–”
“It’s okay. Not your fault.” Juleka returned the hug. “So. Apparently I’m your new high priestess.”
Alya’s skin somehow grew even redder as she blushed again. “We don’t, uh, have to go through with that if you don’t want. I’ll make up some story for Nora.”
But then Alya might get in trouble, Juleka thought. And she’d might never see her friend again if Alya were forced to change covers. “What would it entail?” Juleka asked.
Alya blinked. “Uh… well, there’s a magic spell I’d cast and we’d exchange blood. You’d become bound to me. I’d be able to lend you magic power, and when you 'worshipped’ me I’d get stronger. You’d be responsible for worshipping me on a regular basis, eventually bringing other people into the cult, and helping me to enact my will–that is, capture souls.”
“Any risks?” Juleka asked. “Would I lose my soul?”
“No. I mean, technically I’d be supposed to constantly tempt you into giving it up–that’s the usual reason most demons do things like this, most other demons don’t like humans and only loan them a little power to ensnare people who are too clever to just lose their souls the usual ways–but I wouldn’t do that. Um, if you ran into a paladin or angel they might notice that I’d marked you and want to smite you. It’s not likely unless you’re actively using demonic magic, but it’s a risk, so I get if you don’t want to do it. Like I said, I’ll lie to Nora–”
“I’ll do it,” said Juleka at once.
Alya stared. “Really?”
“Sure. It doesn’t sound too bad, as long as I get to keep my soul. And… and you’re a friend. I don’t want Nora to take you away. And this is sort of my fault anyways for getting captured by those morons. If this is the way to stop you leaving, let’s do it.”
Alya was still for a moment before a genuine grin burst onto her face. “Alright,” she said. “Here we go.”
She got a ritual knife–a real one this time–from her desk and then had Juleka sit cross-legged across from her on her bed while she summoned a ball of Hellfire between them. She murmured several words in what sounded like Latin, then motioned for Juleka to put her hand in the fire. Juleka cautiously did so, but whatever spell Alya had muttered prevented it from burning her. Alya used her knife to cut into her palm, forming a trickle of sizzling blood, before doing the same to Juleka’s hand and then clasping it in the flames.
Juleka gasped. Suddenly she felt as if power were surging into her, power that clutched at her mind and screamed at her to use it to do whatever she wanted, smashing up her enemies and building palaces of molten gold for herself and–
She caught the thoughts and forcibly pushed them away. Then Alya dropped her hand and when Juleka looked at her palm there was a strange sigil instead of a scar. “There!” said Alya. “You’re my high priestess now. It’s official.” She beamed. “I can’t wait to tell Asmodeus. He told me when I started taking soul-catching lessons that I’d never be good enough to start a cult. And here I am, one of the first in my class!”
“Great,” managed Juleka as she uneasily got up. Power was still surging through her and she felt heady. “Woah. That’s a rush. Um, do I need to worry about accidentally setting off fireballs or anything?”
“I haven’t given you any magic yet, just the potential to cast it once I do,” said Alya. “So no.”
“Okay.” Juleka took a breath. “And this worship thing. What does that involve?”
Alya hesitated. “You know, worship,” she said at last. “Spending time being devoted to me. Making me happy. I’ll do the same for you of course–we’re friends–but when you do it to me, I’ll grow stronger and then be able to give you more magic.”
“But specifically,” Juleka pushed. “How do I be 'devoted to you?’ That’s pretty broad.”
"I don’t know,“ Alya admitted. "I’ve never, uh, actually had a cult before. I didn’t think I’d be strong enough to make one.” She glanced away. “Just… whatever’s traditional, I guess.”
“Ah.” Juleka tilted her head, then smiled wryly. “Well, based on Hollywood movies–which I’m going to assume are totally accurate–I think the tradition here is for me to take you into a drafty catacomb, light some smelly incense, chant in Latin neither of us understand, and talk a lot about how someday the rivers will run red with the blood of your enemies.”
Alya blanched. “Please don’t.”
Juleka’s smile grew. “I could also dress up in stupid clothes and wander around yelling prophecies that the dread lord Alya will slay all who do not bow before her. I could form a 'Satanist’ metal band and yell that everyone who didn’t buy my merchandise with your face on it would burn. I could–”
Alya burst into laughter and threw a pillow at her. “As your new demon queen I hereby order you to not do anything so ridiculous I’d get laughed out of Hell.”
“Or,” said Juleka, still beaming, “Seeing as how you told Nora you’re caught up on your soul quota and don’t have anything to do for awhile, I could rent us a couple movies about exorcists and demons. Then we could watch them together, eat popcorn, do each other’s hair, and laugh about everything the films get wrong. Would that count as being 'devoted to you’ and 'making you happy?’”
“I…” Alya smiled. “I think it would. And seeing as how literally no other cultist I’ve ever heard of would have come up with that–seriously, most of those guys love Latin chants, except they don’t know Latin so they just recite random phrases and usually wind up chanting that their togas got caught in their chariots or something–I think it’s safe to say you are officially a much better high priestess than all those other guys.”
She gave Juleka a hug, which the goth returned. And then she flopped down on her bed while Juleka got the movie set up. And as Juleka did so, she saw a contented look on Alya’s face and grinned.
It was nice to be someone’s friend. Especially a very unusual someone, such as a certain Alya Cesaire.
Chapter 3
Life as the high priestess of the Cult of Alya Cesaire, thought Juleka, was pretty similar to her life before taking on that role. She still went to school, did her homework, played music with Kitty Section, dated Rose, and helped Marinette’s various doomed attempts to win the heart of one Adrien Agreste. But now she was hanging out more with Alya too, and those hang-outs could be… interesting.
This was the case when, a few weeks after becoming high priestess, Juleka noticed that Alya was looking sluggish in school. She caught up with the girl at recess and asked, “What’s wrong? Can you, uh, get sick?”
“Not with human diseases, but there’s some demon ones that are a real bitch.” Alya wrinkled her nose, then sneezed into a tissue with an annoyed grunt. “Ugh.”
“Why don’t you go home?” Juleka asked. “I mean, your 'parents’ are just supposed to be looking after you for your bosses, right? They can’t actually ground you?"
"They actually can. To 'maintain the cover,’” Alya smiled ruefully. “Wouldn’t look very realistic if I was just going around doing anything I wanted and they ignored it. I mean, I know Chloe’s dad does, but that’s because he’s a total idiot–it still doesn’t look right. But that’s not why I’m staying here.” She gestured at her bookbag, which Juleka saw had a thick notebook sticking out of it. “Today’s the study review session in Mendeleiev’s class, remember? And the test is next week. I can’t miss that.”
Juleka raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Yeah!” Alya sneezed again. “I mean, this is a long-term cover. I won’t be able to tempt people if I fail out of school and wind up living in an alley behind Marinette’s family’s bakery!”
Juleka gave Alya a long look.
“…and I like this stuff,” Alya admitted. “We don’t really have 'schools’ like this in Hell, just lessons on specific things like tempting people. It's… interesting being in this kind of place.” She gestured at the school around them. “I don’t want to screw it up.”
“Hmm.” Juleka tilted her head, then came to her decision. “Okay. As your high priestess, I’m making an executive decision and sending you home.”
Alya blinked. “I… I don’t think that’s how–”
“I’m supposed to look after you,” said Juleka. “So I’m ordering you to go home. I’ll take detailed notes at the study session and run them over to you once school’s out.”
Now Alya looked stunned. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course–ack!” Juleka winced as Alya wrapped her in a tight hug. She was confused for a moment–taking notes for others was pretty common, after all–before remembering that Alya was new up here. She wondered if maybe demons didn’t have 'friends’ in Hell, and that was why Alya kept being surprised and overwhelmed whenever Juleka behaved decently towards her. (And now that Juleka thought about it, she could recall Marinette having said similar things about how happy Alya seemed to get over the slightest kindnesses.) “No problem.”
“Thanks.” Alya broke the hug and began to run off. “I’ll be at home then. See you later!”
###
Juleka took copious notes, paying even more attention than she would have if she were only focusing on her own learning, and after school she headed out for Alya’s house. Before she got there, though, she was stopped by Rose. “Juleka!” chirped the short blonde, giving her girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. “Are you doing anything?I got tickets to the new fashion show down on the Champs Elysses and I was wondering if you wanted to go?”
“Wish I could,” said Juleka, taking a moment to hug her girlfriend and lose herself in the girl’s sweet perfume and sweeter personality. “But I’ve got a thing with Alya; she’s sick and I’m bringing her notes to study for next week’s test. Maybe tomorrow?”
“She is?” Rose gasped. “That’s awful. But it’s really nice of you to go help her study. You’re amazing, Juleka.” She gave Juleka another hug. “Tomorrow is fine. See you then!”
Rose ran off and Juleka headed over to the Cesaire house to see her friend. When she knocked on the door, though, it was Nora who opened it. “You,” she grunted. “Right, Alya told me. Come in.”
Juleka let the older demon usher her inside and then tried to go to Alya’s room, but Nora blocked her. “Wait,” Nora said. “My little sis is sick. You’re her high priestess. So here.” She thrust an ancient-looking book into Juleka’s arms, and when Juleka opened it to see tiny, spidery writing, the book let out what sounded like a pained moan. “Use this.”
“…how?” Juleka asked.
Nora glared at her, then flipped the book to a certain chapter. “A spell for healing sick demons,” she said. “Now that you’re her high priestess, only you can cast it on her. So do it. Or else I’ll eat your soul.” She stuck out her tongue, and it briefly flashed back to being forked and scaly before Nora restored her own glamour. “Got it?”
Juleka glanced down at the ingredients for the spell and almost gagged. The first three were goat’s blood, the heart of a lamb whose wool was pure-white, and the frayed end of a hangman’s noose; the rest were similarly baroque. “Got it,” she managed. “Make Alya feel better, check.”
“Good.” Nora finally let Juleka go. “And remember, Juleka: her welfare is your responsibility. If you screw up and my sister gets hurt, or banished, or something worse, I’m taking it out on you.” She clenched a fist and a ball of fire appeared above it. “Just so we understand each other. Now: get out of my way.” She stormed off, presumably–Juleka guessed–to go capture another soul from someone she knew as a boxer. Juleka watched her go and took a breath, then headed into Alya’s room.
“Hey!” Alya was lying on her bed in her demonic form, which now looked a bit blotchy and mottled. The base of Alya’s wings in particular were covered with some kind of splotchy growth, and as Juleka watched Alya tried to scratch them but couldn’t quite reach. “You okay? I mentioned you were coming over and Nora freaked out.”
“I’m fine,” said Juleka as she set down her bag. “Nora just told me to make you feel better. Apparently I’m supposed to… let me see…” She looked at the book. “Sprinkle you with goat’s blood, then puree the prepared heart of a lamb and have you drink it…” She flashed a wry smile. “Do you like your lamb heart prepared any particular way, o mighty demon?”
Alya groaned theatrically. “Agh! Nora’s cures for things are worse than the diseases. Please don’t do any of the goat’s blood or lamb’s heart stuff.” The two laughed. Then Alya reached at her back again but still couldn’t reach the splotches at the bases of her wings. “Stupid demon-rot…”
Juleka paused, then went over to the bed. “Here. Let me get that.” She sat down and began to gently scratch the splotches.
“You don’t need to… oh. Oh, yeah, right there.” Alya let out a sigh of contentment as Juleka massaged the inflamed and splotchy patches of skin on her back. “Oh, you’re awesome.”
Juleka smiled slightly as she continued to work on Alya’s back, as well as a couple of blotchy spots near the base of her horns too. The demon made contented noises, almost purrs, and her tail began to thump on the bed and against Juleka’s legs. “That better?” Juleka asked.
“Like you wouldn’t believe. You’re the best high priestess ever,” sighed Alya. “Way better than that stupid toady Asmodeus got that he never shuts up about.”
Juleka massaged Alya for about fifteen minutes until Alya declared she was feeling a lot better and needed to get to studying. Then they got the books out and began going over Juleka’s notes, with Juleka still giving Alya an occasional scratch or massage on one of her sore spots.
“Best high priestess ever,” Alya repeated quietly, and Juleka couldn’t help but grin.
###
The next day, Juleka got a text from Alya that she was feeling much better. “I’m practicing with Kitty Section before the fashion show,” Juleka wrote back. “You can come by if you want.”
But by the time Alya had gotten there, practice had been canceled and Juleka was consoling a sobbing Rose. “It’s awful!” Rose was saying. “I can’t believe it happened again!”
“What’s wrong?” said Alya, now wrapped in her human guise, as she climbed onto the Liberty.
“That XY jerk stole our music again.” Juleka growled something inarticulate and hugged Rose more tightly. “And Bob Roth threatened to sue us for slander if we protest.”
“You should tell people anyways,” said Alya at once. “We’ll show him.”
Juleka shook her head. “The last time this happened, Luka got akumatized when he found out. We can’t risk that happening again.” She looked down. “We’ll figure something out, Rose. We can write another song.”
“Maybe…”
Alya hesitated, and then a faint smile crossed her face while Rose’s head was buried in Juleka’s arms. Juleka saw the smile and gave Alya a querying look, but Alya just waved it off. “Well, let me know if you want to go public; I’ll talk about it on the Ladyblog if you do,” she said. “Anyways, I just came by to say I couldn’t hang around for practice after all. Maybe next time. Later!” And she hurried off.
Juleka didn’t think too much about it until an hour later when, as she sat in her cabin with Rose on her lap while they ate ice cream and tried to think of a new song, Luka came in. “Hey, you guys hear? Something’s going down at Bob Roth’s studios.”
The two girls looked at each other and then Juleka opened up her laptop to see a news report. “Fire at a major studio!” Nadja Chamack was saying while Roth’s building burned behind her. “Preliminary reports are that a fire somehow ignited in the server room and destroyed most of the master recordings, including a new piece of music scheduled to debut later today. The fire then spread through the building–oh, Mr. Roth!” Bob Roth and XY had just burst out of the building as firemen ran into it. “Do you have any–”
“GET ME OUT OF HERE!” XY was screaming. “THIS PLACE IS HAUNTED!”
“Monsters!” Roth gasped. “A monster set everything on fire! Aaah!” And the two ran away.
Chamack blinked, then shrugged. “So to recap: a fire at a record studio appears to have driven famous pop musician XY and his manager Bob Roth into temporary states of insanity, as well as destroyed their new release. We’ll keep you informed. Now back to the station.”
“Hey,” said Rose as Nadja’s feed cut off. “If their recording was destroyed–that means they don’t have our music anymore! We can still release it and Roth can’t claim it was his first!”
Juleka smiled to herself. She had a pretty good idea of which 'monster’ had started that fire. “Yeah,” she said. “We can.”
Later, when Juleka was biking home, she happened to come across Alya and braked to stop near her. “Thanks,” she said.
Alya put on an innocent expression. “Who, me?” she said sweetly. “But I would never burn down a record studio! I’m very innocent and gentle.”
Juleka laughed at that, and after a moment Alya followed suit. “Hey, just like you look after me, I’m supposed to look after you,” Alya said. “I’d lose all my cred if I let someone mess with my high priestess. You guys practicing tomorrow?”
“Yep.”
“Well, I’ll be there. Unless Roth tries again.” Alya winked, and Juleka grinned at her once more before biking off.
###
Two days later, Juleka helped Alya capture a soul for the first time.
“Our target is Aurore Beaureal, the wannabe weather girl,” Alya said. Juleka was with her in her bedroom, and Alya was in her natural demon form. Juleka smiled as she Alya’s tail lashing around eagerly while Alya spread out a map over her bed. “She’s a prime target for soul-capturing.”
“She is?” Juleka asked. “Why?”
“Because she wanted to be the weather girl but Mireille bribed the guy running the contest to pick her instead,” Alya said. “All I have to do is tell her and she’ll be so angry she’ll make a deal with me to get revenge–and then I’ll get her soul.”
Juleka shook her head. “Wait, back up. Mireille bribed Cataldi?”
“Of course she did. What, did you think a half million people really voted in a competition for a local news show to pick a weather reporter?” Alya shook her head. “One of my demon powers is… I guess you could call it a 'sin’ sense. I can tell when people are doing corrupt or evil things, and when I saw Mireille that day she was practically glowing red to my eyes. So I knew she’d done something really bad, and after that I made a few guesses as to what it might be, then snuck into Alec Cataldi’s room and recorded him telling one of his goons how he was going on a shopping spree because Mireille had bribed him with so much money.”
It took a moment for Juleka to consider that fully. She didn’t know much about Mireille, although she had indeed found it odd that the weather girl had won the competition by so many votes. “Shouldn’t we be going after Mireille then?”
“I tried.” Alya frowned. “But her soul is… guarded, somehow. I can’t touch it. That usually means she’s pledged herself to another demon. Well, either that or an angel, but if she were with the angels she would have had to admit to what she did to Aurore and she hasn’t done that. So she has a different demon patron, probably the demon that’s preparing to go after Hawkmoth, and I don’t want to mess with that. We’ll take Aurore instead.”
“Why now?” Juleka asked.
“Because Mireille’s contract with the studio is almost up. If she wants to renew it she’ll need to win the next competition, which means she’ll be cheating Aurore out of it again.” Alya rubbed her hands together. “I just need to tell Aurore what’s going on and she’ll be putty in my hands.”
“Oh.” Juleka hesitated. “I’m, um, not really comfortable taking someone’s soul just because they’re mad about being cheated in a competition. I mean, those cultists were one thing because they tried to kill me, but…”
Alya waved a hand. “I’ll get her to agree to some really awful revenge on Mireille. Something damnation-worthy. I’ll make it work.”
Juleka wasn’t fully convinced, and she thought she heard something catching in Alya’s voice. The demon didn’t seem entirely comfortable with this either, and Juleka wondered if Alya was doing this more because she her superiors demanded damnation for even 'minor’ sins like Aurore’s anger, as opposed to Alya being truly convinced Aurore deserved it. “Are you sure?” Juleka asked gently.
“Sure I’m sure! Now come on!” Alya snapped her fingers to summon her glamour. “Aurore posted on her blog that she’ll be visiting the studio today to submit paperwork, and there’s all kinds of back hallways in that place. We’ll just catch her in one of them and get it done.”
She hurried out, and Juleka followed, though with clear unease on her face.
###
Juleka raised an eyebrow as Alya put on a hooded robe after sneaking them into the back hallways of the television studio. “In case she says no, I need to keep my cover,” Alya explained. “Besides, this makes me look more credible.”
“It really doesn’t,” Juleka said.
Alya stuck out her tongue. “Well, maybe not to you, but trust me–when you try to get someone to sell your soul, you can’t do it in jeans and a T-shirt. You need to look the part. Here.” She shoved a robe at Juleka. “I brought you one too.”
Juleka glanced at it, then pointedly dropped it. “What am I supposed to be doing here, anyways?”
“Right now, watch and learn. Eventually I might have you help me with temptations, but for the moment, I just want you to see how awesome I am.” Alya chuckled from beneath her hooded robe. “And–wait, those are her footsteps. Hide!” She pushed Juleka behind a stack of crates and then moved into a shadowy part of the hallway.
Soon enough a disgruntled-looking Aurore came up. “Why won’t they take my papers?” she growled as she glanced over an office map. “Last time was bad enough, but this time it’s like they don’t want me here!”
“They don’t,” intoned Alya in a low voice.
Aurore jumped and then swiveled to point her parasol in the general direction of Alya’s shadows. “Who was that?” she demanded. “I’m–I have an umbrella and I know how to use it!”
Juleka had to work to stifle her giggle.
Alya slipped out of the shadows, and as Juleka watched, Alya’s robe shuddered in an almost inhuman way. Juleka made a note to ask her how she did that. Then Alya spoke again, “I think you know they don’t want you here. Mireille bribed the host last year, and she did it again this year. Your application to compete won’t even be accepted. They’ll have Mireille run against a fake candidate who already agreed to take a dive, and thus she’ll win for sure.” Alya shook her head. “Such a shame.”
Aurore flushed. “Why should I believe you? You’re just a creepy person in a scary robe!”
“Am I?” Alya held up a phone, her hand briefly shifting into its natural state–red, with talon-like fingers–before blinking back to its human form again. Aurore boggled but didn’t flee–Juleka figured Aurore was trying to tell herself she was just seeing things–and then Alya hit a playback button on the phone.
“…going to be eating steaks and sushi for a month!” Alec’s voice said. “That Caquet girl paid me so much I can really take it easy for a while!” He laughed. “Maybe I’ll finally get that sports jacket… nah, I’ll wait until Caquet wants to win something else and comes knocking again. Say what you like about her, she’s loaded!”
Aurore flushed a bright crimson. “I knew it. I knew that jerk cheated!” Her fist clenched, and she dropped the papers she’d been carrying. “I worked harder, I was better, I deserved to win! Just because she has money–agh!” She slammed her fist into the wall.
“It’s so unfair,” Alya agreed. “But I could help you get revenge.” She lowered her hood just enough to reveal her horns and red skin. Aurore gasped, but Alya said, “What? In a world with miraculouses and akumas, are you so surprised there are other powers out there?” She waited for Aurore to jerkily shake her head. “So, Aurore. Would you like my help?”
“And what do you want in exchange?” managed Aurore.
“I think you know.” Alya moved closer to Aurore. “Your soul. But in exchange… revenge on Mireille, perhaps Alec too, the job as weather girl, and so much more.” She spread her hands. “Well?”
Aurore hesitated, and Juleka could tell she was really tempted. But then she shook her head. “No,” she said twice, first hesitantly, then more strongly. “I don’t–just forget it. No way. I’m not the kind of person who would do something like that.”
She turned, but Alya quickly moved around her to face her again. “Not so fast,” she said in a charming tone. “You don’t want to give up your soul; I get it. We can work something else out. In fact… I might be able to lend you a little magic help to get your revenge, just so you can see what I"m offering. No other charge.”
Juleka frowned, but then remembered that Alya had told her there were at least two ways for her to take a soul: either to get someone to explicitly make a deal with her in which they gave it to her, or to convince someone to do something evil enough that Alya could just take the soul without a deal. The first tactic had failed, so now Alya would be trying to get Aurore to agree to some really bad sin and thus allow Alya to get the soul that way.
“Magic?” repeated Aurore.
“Sure.” Alya leaned close. “For instance, if I gave you a certain power you could…” and her speech trailed off as she whispered something, presumably advice on how to use magic to do something really evil, into Aurore’s ear.
But rather than agree, Aurore stiffened and then shoved Alya back. “What? No way. I’d never do that, not even for revenge. I told you, I’m not that kind of person.” She scowled. “You’re terrible, you know that?”
“But–” Alya began.
“Why am I even talking to you? Get out of here before I call Ladybug.” Aurore backed away. “And–”
Then Alya’s phone went off.
Aurore and Alya both stared down at Alya’s pocket, and Juleka winced–Alya had a distinctive ringtone, a theme song from one of those shows following investigative reporters, and everyone knew it because her phone sometimes went off when she was filming Ladyblog stuff. “Uh,” said Alya. “Hang on–”
“Alya?” asked Aurore. “Is that you?”
“No!” Alya insisted as she reached for her phone, but Aurore was faster and swept out her umbrella to fully knock down the demon’s hood. That revealed her head, which–though red and with horns–was still noticeably that of Alya Cesaire. “Alya?” breathed Aurore. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m not Alya!” yelped the reporter. “You can’t prove–”
Aurore turned, said, “Stay away from me!” and began to run for the exit.
As soon as she had turned a corner Alya slammed her head against a wall. “Stupid stupid stupid!” she hissed. “I completely botched that!”
“Yeah,” Juleka noted. “You did.”
Alya shot her a mock glare, but it quickly dissolved into fear. “If she tells people I’ll have to move and change identities, assuming I don’t get recalled to Hell and punished, and without her soul I can’t influence her to–”
“Wait.” Juleka thought quickly. “I might be able to set her up so you can take her soul. But then you have to do me a favor.”
Alya blinked. “Sure, anything, but how can you–”
“No time.” Juleka grabbed the office map Aurore had dropped. “Just follow me at a distance. And 'watch and learn.’” She shot a faint smile at Alya, then took off at a run.
Aurore had a head start but no longer had a map, which meant Juleka was able to catch up to the lost girl before Aurore could find her way back into the inhabited parts of the station. She reached the blond’s position just before Aurore would have passed through an exit door, then grabbed a random object–a little ball that someone, probably Manon Chamack, had left lying around–and gently tossed it at Aurore’s head before ducking into an open office.
“Huh?” gasped Aurore as the ball bounced off her. She spun around. “What was that?”
“You are Rain Delay,” called Juleka in her lowest, most imposing voice, “And this is Hawkmoth. I–”
“Oh, come on!” complained Aurore. “What, are all the bad guys trying to tempt me today?”
Juleka smiled. Aurore had been akumatized, but seeing as how it was hard to remember what happened once Hawkmoth touched someone, that didn’t mean she knew what it was supposed to feel like. For all Aurore knew it was a simple 'butterfly bumps into you and turns you evil’ thing. Meaning she’d have no way of knowing Juleka was faking. “Tempt you?” she said. “Oh, no no no. I’m helping you get revenge. No need to thank me, just get me the jewelry, yadda yadda.”
“I’m not–”
“Yes you are,” said Juleka. “You already want to. Your anger is growing. Nobody can resist me.”
Aurore hesitated, and Juleka smiled; she’d figured Aurore correctly. Aurore hadn’t refused Alya’s offers because she was opposed to taking revenge; rather, she just didn’t want to feel like she was the kind of bad person who would agree to a demonic bargain in order to get said revenge. But everyone knew that nobody could resist Hawkmoth, which meant that it wasn’t anyone’s fault for getting akumatized. So all she had to do was convince Aurore that Hawkmoth was making her do something bad, and Aurore–now believing that anything evil she did wasn’t really her fault but just was Hawkmoth’s influence–would go along with it.
And Aurore finally said, “…yes,” in a tight, angry voice as a cruel smile crawled across her face. “Give me power and I’ll destroy Mireille. I’ll bury her in a storm, I’ll drown her, and Alec, and–”
And then Alya slipped out of the shadows behind Aurore and easily pulled her soul out of her chest.
Aurore flinched and shuddered, then turned–and gaped at Alya holding a ball of blueish-gold light about the size of a billiard ball. “What–”
“Your soul,” said Alya by way of explanation. “Mine now.” She glanced in Juleka’s direction. “Well done, high priestess. Your help was useful.”
“Help?” said Juleka in a joking tone. She came out of the shadows–Alya had Aurore’s soul, so she could ensure Aurore didn’t tell anyone about her identity–and frowned. “Is that what we’re calling 'doing the whole thing?’”
Aurore reached for her soul, but her hand passed through it without making contact. “Give that back!” she insisted.
“Nope. Mine now.” Alya beamed. “I’ll be taking this Down Below and–”
“You can’t!” insisted Aurore. “That wasn’t fair! I’m sorry!”
Alya hesitated and Juleka saw real conflict on her face. The goth coughed. “Hey, Alya, remember that favor you said you’d owe me if I got you her soul?”
“Yeah?”
Aurore turned. “Wait, Juleka Couffaine, right?” she asked. “Why are you helping her do this?!”
“She’s my high priestess,” said Alya.
“She what?!” Aurore sputtered. “You can’t have a high priestess! You’re a demon! You–”
“Aurore,” said Juleka at once. “Hold on a minute. I need to say something to Alya.”
The blond scowled at her but stopped talking, and Juleka turned back to Alya. “My favor is: don’t take her soul down to Hell.”
Alya blinked. “But that’s the only reason I got it. To make my quota.”
“We can look for someone else to fill your quota, a real bad guy. I’ll help you. But don’t take hers down there.” Juleka paused. “She doesn’t deserve it, Alya. You know that.”
“Well… I mean, my bosses–”
“Your bosses want you to take every soul that just barely steps over the line,” Juleka guessed. “Because they’re jerks. But I don’t think you want to do that. Getting rid of really bad people so they can’t hurt others, or work with Hawkmoth, or do things like that is one thing. Aurore’s not like that."
The two locked gazes for a moment before Alya said, "…maybe… I mean…”
“No maybe about it,” said Juleka. “You know damning her isn’t the right thing to do. Besdies, I’m your high priestess and we made a deal: I’d get you her soul so she couldn’t tell the world that Alya Cesaire is actually a demon temptress running around Paris, and in exchange you’d do something for me. Well, what I want you to do is not damn her.”
Aurore blinked. “Um–”
“But–but then what do I do with her soul?” Alya asked. “I can’t give it back or she’ll be able to talk to people about me!”
“Can’t you just keep it around?” Juleka asked. “In, I don’t know, a desk drawer or something?”
“Hey!” Aurore said. “I–”
“–were going to willingly ally with Hawkmoth,” said Juleka in a deadpan tone. “If you’d been successful you would have stolen the miraculouses and possibly helped Hawkmoth conquer the world. You’re getting off easy, Aurore.”
Aurore blushed a bright red, but then bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just–I worked so hard on the weather competition, and learning that Mireille cheated… but alright, I know I should have tried harder to resist 'Hawkmoth.’ Still, I don’t want Alya to mess with my soul!”
Juleka turned back to Alya. “As long as you don’t try to rewrite her personality, will you having her soul effect her?”
“No. I mean, there might be a few odd issues now and then, but nothing big. I do need to make her loyal so she doesn’t tell–”
Juleka swiveled again. “Aurore, if you tell anyone about Alya or me, she’ll have to move and change identities, and then you won’t be able to get your soul back from her because you won’t be able to find her. So you won’t tell anyone, will you?”
The blond quickly shook her head.
“Great.” Juleka smiled at both of them. “Then there’s no need for Alya to 'mess with’ Aurore’s soul, about loyalty or anything else. Alya can just hang on to it until… I don’t know… Aurore demonstrates she’s not the type of person to work with Hawkmoth anymore, no matter how mad she gets.” She nodded. I’m glad we worked this out.“
Alya and Aurore both seemed like they wanted to argue, but neither could come up with anything. And that was that.
###
"This is weird,” Aurore said.
They had returned to Alya’s house and Alya had put Aurore’s soul on her dresser, where it lit up the immediate area with a gentle blue and yellow light. Aurore had tried to take it back, or at least poke it, but her hand just passed through it; Alya had explained that only those whom she allowed to touch it could do so now that it was hers. “This is so weird,” Aurore said. “I mean, I’m happy I’m not getting damned, but…”
“Alya will take good care of your soul,” Juleka promised. “I’ll make sure of it. We’ll polish it every week, maybe take it for walks on Fridays.” Alya playfully stuck out her tongue. “And hey, if you want to check in on it maybe you can come over now and then.” When Nora is away, Juleka thought. “We could have you over for girl’s night. Ooh, you could even join my cult.”
Alya brightened. “Yeah! We need more members.”
“…cult?” asked Aurore. “What, like chanting?”
“It’s mostly watching anime, eating ice cream, and telling dumb jokes,” said Juleka. Alya tossed a pillow at her, and she easily dodged it. “But if you really want to chant I can pencil that in somewhere.”
Aurore actually laughed a little at that. “No, that’s okay.” She paused. “Um, does the whole stealing-my-soul thing being… allowed to happen, I guess… mean I’m a really bad person?”
“It means you did a really bad thing,” said Alya. “I wouldn’t be able to take your soul otherwise.”
“But,” Juleka went on, “It doesn’t mean you’re irrevocably bad. That’s just for people who actually do get sent Down Below. You can get better. We’ll help.” She smiled gently. “And also have some fun. For instance: the meeting of the Cult of Alya Cesaire is this Saturday at noon. We’re going to be 'worshipping’ Alya by watching Lord of the Rings–which she somehow hasn’t seen–”
“They don’t have human movies in Hell!” protested Alya. “At least none of the good ones!”
Aurore and Juleka both laughed at that, and then Juleka went on. “We will also be snacking on stuff from the Dupain-Cheng bakery and talking about what to get Principal Damocles for his birthday. And maybe we can fit in some, I don’t know, moral instruction or something. Sound good?”
“Yeah.” Aurore nodded. “I… I guess I’ll see you two then.” And she left.
Alya left out a breath and sagged down on her bed. “Ugh. That was a trainwreck,” she muttered. “I need to get better at tempting.”
“Fortunately, you have your expert high priestess to help,” joked Juleka.
Alya smiled at that. Then she said, “And… thanks. For coming up with the idea of what to do with Aurore. I think–I think you were right. Damning her would have been the wrong move.”
“Of course I"m right.” Juleka sat next to Alya, who leaned on her shoulder. “Happy to help.”
“Yeah… but I still need to get another soul by the end of the week.” Alya pursed her lips. “I–”
Juleka’s phone beeped with an alert. She looked down at it. “Hey, some nutjobs are trying to rob a bank,” she said. “And they’ve taken hostages that they’re threatening to shoot. If you hurry I’ll bet you can get their before Ladybug, steal a few souls from the robbers, and make your quota that way.”
Alya brightened. “Yeah, that’s perfect!” She jumped to her cloven feet. “Thanks again, Juleka! You’re great.”
“I know,” said Juleka as Alya ran out. Then she chuckled and lay back in the bed. Becoming a counselor and spiritual advisor to a demon–and, apparently, at least one newly-soulless girl who needed a little anger management–wasn’t really where she’d seen herself going when the year had begun.
But that didn’t make it not fun.
Chapter 4
It was about one month after Juleka had learned Alya’s secret when things began getting hectic again.
“You know what I think?” Rose asked as she lay on Juleka’s lap, staring at the sky while they finished their lunches. “I think we should do something special tomorrow. We should go to Andre’s ice cream cart, get our favorite flavors, and then ride in one of those boats that goes up and down the Seine.”
“Sounds fun,” said Juleka. She gently stroked Rose’s hair, and the girl grinned and wriggled deeper into Juleka’s lap. “Is tomorrow a special occasion?”
“The most special of all!” said Rose. “Tomorrow is our six-and-a-half month anniversary!"
Juleka chuckled. "Ah. How could I forget. The most important day in any loving relationship–”
“Don’t make fun of love,” said Rose. “It’s amazing. Like, I love you, so when I look at you my heart starts racing and I feel like the most fortunate girl in the world.” Juleka blushed at that. “And I’m sure you feel the same way, 'cause you’re also in love!”
“Sounds about right,” said Juleka. “Although, at the moment, I’d kind of love to get back to class before Mendeleiev gives us detention…”
Rose checked her watch and made a soft 'eep’ sound. “You’re right!” she said as she scrambled upright. “But let’s cuddle more later. It’s fun.” She grinned at Juleka before rushing back to the school, with Juleka following at a slightly more sedate pace.
Juleka had gotten inside and was heading towards the classroom when she saw Alya approaching. “I think Marinette’s in that room there,” Nino was calling to her from around a corner. “I heard her say Lila wanted to talk to her about something.”
“Thanks!” Alya called back. Then she looked at Juleka. “Hey. Got any plans for this afternoon?”
“Cuddling with Rose,” said Juleka. “And after that… I dunno. We can do something or–”
A yelping noise sounded from the closed room. Jueka and Alya glanced at each other, then quickly looked through a crack in the door. Juleka’s eyes widened as she saw Lila pulling her hand away from Marinette; the hand looked bruised and Marinette was giving LIla an astonished look. “That’s all you’ve got? Poking me in the chest? Whatever. I’m done with you."
Marinette stalked towards the other door. As soon as she left, Lila’s scowl deepened, and then–
Then her body flashed and took on an appearance similar to that of Alya’s.
They weren’t exactly the same. Lila’s horns, wings, and tail were all larger than Alya’s, and her skin was a deeper red. She also had some tattoos which writhed a little on her body. But they were clearly the same species, and Juleka couldn’t stop herself from gasping.
"No!” hissed Alya as she covered Juleka’s mouth.
But it was too late. Lila glanced at the door, then waved one claw-like hand at it and whispered something in Latin, and then Juleka felt herself being dragged through the door by an unseen force. Alya was dragged in besides her, and the two were thrown to the ground in front of LIla.
“So,” said Lila. “I guess you two will be my next acquisitions.” She waved a hand and the door shut behind them. “Don’t worry, though. I’m not too hard of a taskmaster. Your souls will be safe and–”
“Hang on!” said Alya as she forced herself to her feet. Her body shimmered and then she was in her natural demonic form too. Juleka scrambled up afterwards. “Our souls aren’t up for grabs. I’m gathering souls for the bosses, same as you. And, uh, Juleka’s the high priestess of my cult.”
Lila blinked and then stared at Juleka. “You. The high priestess. That’s insane. She can’t possibly do the job.”
“I get that a lot,” Juleka drawled. “But it turns out I’m really good at chanting.”
Lila rolled her eyes. “Har har. If your demon shows up at midnight half-dead from fighting a paladin, can you rush out and sacrifice a vestal virgin to restore her strength?”
“No,” said Juleka, “but I can watch anime with her on the weekends. It makes her happy, and it comes up a lot more than the vestal virgin thing.”
Lila boggled, and then Alya stepped between them. “But seriously, I had no idea,” she told Lila. “I mean, you’re always doing charity work with these famous celebrities from all over the world and…” She trailed off for a moment. “…and now that I know who you are, I can see those stories are totally ridiculous and you’ve probably been using demonic magic to make everyone believe them.”
“Exactly. And even if Dupain-Cheng is still too 'pure’ right now for it to work on her, everyone else believes me. It’s the perfect cover.” Lila beamed. “And I’ll get Marinette eventually.”
“Hang on,” said Alya quickly. “That’s–that’s not a good idea. I mean, you just tried to get Marinette’s soul and you failed, right? That girl is damn-near incorruptible. No way would she ever do anything bad enough to be vulnerable to one of us. You’re better off looking elsewhere.”
Juleka gave Alya a querying look. The girl sounded nervous. Evidently Lila picked up at it too, because she leaned back on her cloven hooves, then grinned. “Oh, I get it! You’re actually friends with that little pink rodent!”
Alya scowled. “Marinette is… nice,” she said at last. “We’re allowed to have friends.”
“No, we’re allowed to fake being friends so we can get their souls.” Lila snorted. “As if humans were worthy of friendship. Bunch of self-righteous morons who’ve never really been tested and think they’re better than us. Put any of them with a decent tempter for thirty seconds and they’d sell their souls, their lovers, and their children to satisfy some sick desire. I might be here for Hawkmoth and Mayura, but along the way I’ll get Marinette, Alya. I’ll get anyone I want.”
“Marinette,” said Alya in a slow voice, “Is off limits. So are all my friends in class. Come on, Lila, Paris has millions of people. You can go after any of them.”
“Sure. I could. But I think I’ll go after Marinette and her friends instead.” Lila grinned. “Marinette annoys me. She acts like she’s virtuous, and she’s so… smugly casual about it. Like she doesn’t even have to try at it. Like anyone could be that nice if they wanted.” She shuddered. “Filthy human. And I don’t think she’ll be hard to get at all, Alya. See, first I’ll get the souls of her friends and make them act incredibly cruel to her. Then, when she’s hurt and broken, I’ll corrupt her and take her soul too. Hmm, maybe when I finish here and get back down to Hell I can have her as a personal thrall to trim my hooves and everything.”
Alya opened her mouth, but then Lila began talking again. “Besides, I have my own career to look out for, don’t I? Right now I know of two demons in Paris: you and me. If anything big happens, we’ll share credit, and half-credit’s just not enough for me. But if one of those demons should, say, lose her cover–because all of her friends start telling people she’s a demon, working to expose her, maybe even going crazy and drawing attention to her–she’ll have to leave. Then I’ll be alone, and when I capture Hawkmoth’s and Mayura’s souls–not to mention Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s, of course–I’ll be promoted for sure. I might even become an archfiend and have a whole legion of lesser demons under my command."
Juleka stared at Lila as the demon grinned. "Sorry, Alya,” Lila went on. “But that’s how the game is played. If you don’t like the thought of me stealing all your 'friends” souls in front of you and using them to force you out in disgrace, you can leave now, quietly, with your dignity and reputation intact. I’ll be sure to keep you apprised on how my work in corrupting Marinette is going.“ She chuckled, then walked past Alya towards the door. "See you around, partner,” she called, then summoned her human guise around herself and left.
When the other demon was gone, Juleka shut the door and turned to Alya, who was starting to panic. “No no no!” Alya hissed. “This can’t be happening! This isn’t fair! I don’t want Lila to touch them!”
“Can you call your bosses?” Juleka asked.
Alya snorted. “They’ll tell me if I"m not strong enough to fight off Lila I deserve to lose everything to her. Damn it! We have to do something, but her magic felt really strong. I don’t know if I can fight it.”
“I could worship you more,” offered Juleka.
“One or two worshippers won’t be enough, and even if you post an ad on Craigslist or something and get more recruits we don’t’ have time. Lila will already started corrupting the class more aggressively.” Alya clutched her head. “This is awful.”
Juleka thought for a few moments. “But we do have time, at least a little. Lila just tried to get Marinette’s soul and couldn’t, and in fact, her hand looked pretty messed up from the attempt. Do you know what that means?”
“That something’s blocking her, I’d guess.” Alya shrugged. “Marinette might have angelic backing; she’s pure enough it wouldn’t surprise me… although if she did they would probably have warned her about me by now. Or maybe some other semi-divine force is protecting her, though I have no idea what.”
“Still,” said Juleka. “We just saw she can’t get Marinette’s soul.”
Alya shook her head. “She can’t directly, not yet, but her plan’s a good one. Marinette loves her friends. If Lila gets their souls and warps them so the class is horrible to Marinette, then Marinette could break and become vulnerable.”
“Hmm.” Juleka thought back, and then an idea hit her. “You said you couldn’t get Mireille’s soul because someone already had it.”
“Right.”
“So why don’t we try to get the class’s souls before Lila does? If you have them locked up then Lila can’t loot them.” Juleka tensed as she spoke. She had no idea how she’d go about getting Rose’s soul in particular without it seeming like a betrayal. But if that was the only way to keep her girlfriend safe from Lila, Juleka would do it.
Alya blinked. “That… that just might work!” she beamed. “Juleka, you’re brilliant!” And she hugged the goth.
“Thanks,” managed Juleka. “I–”
“There’s no time to lose,” said Alya. “We’ll start today. Operation: protect the class from Lila by stealing all their souls first is a go!”
Chapter 5
“Let’s deal with Alix first.”
Juleka leaned against the wall and looked at Alya, who was putting together a corkboard with photos of their classmates. Alya drew a red circle around Alix and then put a ’#1’ next to it. “She’ll be one of the easiest,” Alya went on. “She’s so hot-headed. All we have to do is challenge her to a dare and get her to bet her soul on it, then win!”
“Winning might be tough,” Juleka noted. “Alix is pretty competitive.”
“Fortunately, being a demon, I’m allowed to cheat.” Alya winked. “And that’s what you’re for. You’ll help me rig things so that I can’t help but win. Then her soul will be mine!” She grinned and summoned a small ball of Hellfire, which she began to toss up and down in one hand. “And then I–”
The Hellfire slammed into the ceiling light and blew it out, shrouding both of them in darkness–except for the light emanating from Aurore’s soul, which was quietly glowing on a shelf. Alya shrugged, then picked up the soul and began using it as a flashlight to see the corkboard. Juleka snorted. “I don’t think you’re supposed to use souls like that.”
Alya waved this off. “Now let’s see… ah. I’ve got the perfect way we can trap Alix in a bet she can’t win.”
###
“A race around the city?” Alix’s eyes gleamed. “That sounds awesome! The news station really asked you to help them plan it?”
“They know I go around the city to film Ladybug, so I guess I was the natural choice.” Juleka smiled slightly as Alya tossed her hair back, then gestured at the map she had set down on the cafe table where she had asked Alix to meet her. “I just need to get from checkpoint to checkpoint and then report back if there were any problems with the route–you know, road under construction, 'no pedestrian’ signs, zombie outbreak, things like that. I won’t even need to tell them how long it took, since the checkpoints are set up so that they’ll register when peoples’ phones get near them; that’s how they’ll make sure nobody tries to cheat by skipping a checkpoint, and that’s how they’ll record my time. So it seems really easy, right? But I was thinking, it’d be really boring to do it by myself, so… why not make it a race?” She gestured to her bike. “Me versus you? You can use your skates, of course.”
Alix cracked her knuckles. “Sounds like a blast. But if we’re racing, we should have stakes. Winner gets the losers’ wheels?”
“Can’t do that.” Alya shook her head. “Mom will kill me if I lose my bike.”
“Hmph,” said Alix. “Well, we have to bet something, and it should be high stakes. None of this 'winner gets a cookie from Marinette’s bakery’ stuff. Something worth racing around the city for.”
“I agree, but what?” Alya glanced at Juleka. “Any ideas?”
The goth chuckled to herself, then said her lines. “I’m sure you guys’ll probably just bet ten bucks or something,” she said in a dry, slightly smug voice that she’d rehearsed with Alya. “I mean, I’ve seen weirder bets, but mostly just from some pagans I met online.”
“What kinds of bets do they make?” Alix asked.
“Well, I saw one group where they gambled blood,” lied Juleka. “Winner got a pint of blood from the loser.”
Alix wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”
“What? It’s high stakes betting, right?” Juleka smiled slightly. “And that wasn’t even the weirdest one. I saw one bet where the winner got the loser’s soul.”
Alix actually laughed. “Goth much, Juleka? Souls don’t exist.”
“Then you shouldn’t have any problem betting it,” said Alya. “That sounds fun! Winner gets the loser’s soul… and two hundred bucks.”
Alix snorted. “Soul shmoul, but I could use the money. Deal. Count of three?”
“Sure!” Alya beamed. “One, two… three!”
Alix took off at a blast, immediately turning a corner and rushing towards the first checkpoint on Alya’s map–the Eiffel Tower. Alya waited until she was out of sight, then darted into the alley behind the cafe with Juleka. “Perfect!” said Alya as she sketched out a pentagram in chalk on the ground. “Let’s go!”
“And this will still count?” Juleka asked.
“Of course it will. Alix made the deal: whoever gets to all the checkpoints first and then returns here wins the loser’s soul. Sure, it might not be fair for me to use my demon powers to teleport, but I didn’t explicitly say I was going to use my bike to get around–I just implied it–and besides, like I said, demons get to cheat.” Alya grinned. “It’s part of our style. Now come on; Alix is fast and we’ve got to get going.”
Juleka followed her into the pentagram. “Why am I being teleported too, again?”
“Because if anything goes wrong I’ll need your help to fix things,” Alya said. “And besides, part of being my high priestess is accompanying me on my adventures and giving me support.”
Juleka blinked. “Okay. Rah rah rah, Alya is great, rah rah.”
Alya giggled. “I meant magical support, in case I need it.” She took Juleka’s hand. “Let’s go!”
And then they vanished in a flash of brimstone and sulfur.
###
For a moment, Juleka thought she had the impressions of fire–massive flames higher and hotter than had ever existed on Earth–but they didn’t seem to touch her. And a moment later she was back on the ground, having arrived with Alya in the pentagram they had secretly sketched beforehand in a small janitor’s closet next to the Eiffel Tower.
They then disappeared and reappeared several times in quick succession, all over the city, hitting each checkpoint in succession. Finally they reached the last one, landing in a dingy basement under Montparnasse Tower, and Alya grinned. “Now just to get back to the cafe and wait for her!”
But when she tried to teleport, nothing happened, and Alya frowned. “What’s wrong?” she demanded. “This always worked when I practiced it!”
“Maybe somebody disturbed the pentagram in the alley,” Juleka offered. “So we can’t use it to get back.”
“Agh!” Alya groaned. “Then–then we’ll have to get back the old-fashioned way. But we should still be way ahead of Alix, so–OW!”
Juleka blinked as Alya held up a small ball of Hellfire to illuminate the area, and they both winced as they saw that Alya had stepped into what looked like an animal trap. “Guess they have rats or something down here,” said Juleka as she helped Alya to pry it off.
“Stupid rats,” grunted Alya. “Ow, that really hurts…”
They got the trap off, but when Alya put her foot down she yelped and had to lift it again. “Will you be okay?” Juleka said at once. “Are you–”
“I’m fine. Demons heal fast… but not fast enough to win the race on foot.” Alya grit her teeth and leaned on Juleka. “We have to get as close to the cafe as we can before Alix catches us.’
"Then what?” Juleka asked. “You need to beat Alix, so is there any way I can slow her down while you go ahead?”
Alya nodded. “Yeah. I can… I can lend you some powers. Technically I’m supposed to demand you give me blood and swear more loyalty and so on, but whatever. I’m desperate. Here.”
She grabbed Juleka’s hand, the one that she’d cut to get Juleka into her cult, and chanted a few words in Latin. Juleka gasped as another surge of power flowed into her, this one deeper and more powerful than the first. Her hair stood on end for just a moment and she stumbled away from Alya as the surge faded. “What was that?”
“Just a couple basic powers,” Alya said. “Standard high priestess starter pack: Hellfire summoning, and a few passive spells related to magical strength, toughness, and so on. It should be pretty instinctive.”
Juleka blinked, then focused on her hand–and to her amazement, a surge of energy ran through her and a little flame appeared at her fingertips. “Woah!” she gasped. “That is so cool!”
“Yeah, yeah, demons are awesome, I get it,” said Alya. “Can we focus on the race right now?”
“Right, right. Here.” Juleka got Alya’s arm around her shoulder and began helping her limp back towards the cafe.
###
They almost made it back by the time Alya said, “Okay, Alix just hit Montparnasse. She’ll catch up to us in a couple minutes.”
“How can you–”
“I can sense when people I know go near my pentagrams.” Alya winced. “The cafe’s not that far. You just need to stall her for a couple minutes. But nothing too flashy in public, okay? If someone videotapes you summoning balls of Hellfire–”
Juleka nodded. “I know, I know. You’ll be very upset that they’ll have scooped you before you could get it on the Ladyblog.”
Alya snorted. “And, you know, you could be seen and then hunted down by angels and paladins. But other than that, yes, the blog is the most important thing.”
They got to a corner and Juleka let Alya limp on ahead towards the cafe. Then Juleka ducked into another alley and kept watch, soon seeing Alix furiously skating down the sidewalk. She thought for a moment about what she could do with her powers. Something very subtle, she thought, would probably be best. Something subtle and sneaky and…
Then she shrugged. She had Hellfire now. What was the point of that if she couldn’t have a little fun with it?
So she focused, summoned up a big ball of Hellfire, and then–from the safety of the alley, where nobody was watching–lobbed it at a fire hydrant in Alix’s path.
The fireball blasted the hydrant to pieces, and jets of water began shooting in all directions. Alix yelped as a water blast hit her and destabilized her. She almost fell, but Juleka darted out from the alley and caught her. Before she wouldn’t have been able to do so, but Alya had given her just a taste of demonic strength and she was easily able to arrest Alix’s fall. “Careful!” she said as she helped Alix slow and then stop. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” said Alix. “Stupid hydrant just exploded!” She quickly shook herself off. “But no worries. I’ll still beat Alya back.”
Juleka stepped out of Alix’s way, but just as the skater began to take off again Juleka fired a very tiny bit of Hellfire down at her skates and melted one of the wheels. Alix tried to roll and almost tripped. “Oh, come on, what now?” she growled as she looked down.
“Looks like a piece of the hydrant may have smashed the wheel,” Juleka offered.
Alix kicked off her skates and shoved then into Juleka’s arms. “Hold these,” she said. “Don’t lose them.” And then she took off at a run.
Juleka frowned, not knowing how to further slow Alix, and began running after her. The girl was fast and even Juleka’s demonic-enhanced energy wasn’t enough to enable the goth to overtake her friend. But she was able to keep pace, just barely, and she chased after Alix as they rounded the final corner–
Just in time to see Alya stagger into the cafe and then turn. “I win!” Alya called as Alix groaned. “Hah!”
“Hmph.” Alix slowly approached Alya. “Only because a fire hydrant blew up.”
Alya glanced at Juleka, who smiled slightly. Alya returned the look with a grin of her own. “Guess you owe me.”
“Yeah, I’ll grab the money from my room and drop it off at your place. Oh yeah, and my 'soul.’” Alix chuckled. “Love to see you collect that, Cesaire.”
###
“You JERKS!”
Alya, now back in her room and in her demonic form, beamed triumphantly as she held Alix’s soul up in the air. Alix jumped for it, but she was so short she couldn’t even reach Alya’s hand. “I thought you said you wanted to see me collect it.”
“I wasn’t being literal!” Alix jumped again. If Alya’s demonic form phased her, she didn’t show it. “Juleka! Make her give it back! It's… it’s my soul!”
“Sorry.” Juleka shrugged. “I"m her high priestess. I’m on her side.” She paused. “Wow, Alix, your soul is really pink and red.”
Alya nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of cute."
"My soul is not cute!” Alix wailed. “It’s rough and tough! Like me!”
“No, it’s cute.” Alya poked it, and Alix suddenly stepped back and giggled. Alya blinked. “Wait, are you ticklish?”
“Uh–no! No way!” Alix insisted.
Alya and Juleka exchanged knowing glances, and then Alya began to tickle Alix’s soul, causing the redhead to collapse in hysterical laughter. “Stop!” Alix begged as she laughed wildly. “Stop please!”
“Only if you promise to stop yelling,” Alya said primly. And after a little more tickling, Alix had to give in.
Alya set Alix’s soul next to Aurore’s, and Alix tried to grab it but found she couldn’t touch it. “Seriously, what the Hell?” she demanded. “Look, Alya being a demon from Hell, fine, whatever, but taking my soul–”
“Another demon’s in town,” said Juleka. “Lila Rossi. She’s really good at collecting souls, and she’s coming after the class. We’re trying to get everyone’s souls first so she can’t actually send your souls to Hell.”
Alix hesitated. “Couldn’t you just warn us so we wouldn’t fall for her tricks?”
“Lila could get your soul even if you knew she was coming–I looked up her record after we learned about her, and she’s a validictorian-level tempter,” Alya said. “But don’t worry. As long as your soul’s safe with me, she can’t grab it!” She beamed. “You’re welcome.”
“I… agh.” Alix threw her head back. “What am I supposed to do now?”
Juleka smiled. “You could join the cult. Hang out with other people who’s soul got yeeted out of their bodies by Paris’s best demon.” Alya grinned. “See some really cool powers.” And she summoned a bit of Hellfire, causing Alix’s eyes to widen. “And watch some really, really ridiculous anime.”
“That's… that doesn’t sound like much of a cult,” Alix noted.
“Maybe for a lame demon who just wants to hear people talk about how great she is,” said Alya, “but my cult is very big on having everyone eat snacks and watch fun tv shows.” She paused. “Look, I–I get this is a big deal for you. I wasn’t planning on going after the souls of anyone at Francois Dupont, honest. But there was no other way to keep you safe from Lila. And if you’re in the cult, you can check in on your soul whenever we meet… we can watch out for each other, make sure Lila doesn’t attack…”
Alix slowly nodded. “Okay. I’m in. But I want your word that once Lila is gone you’re giving my soul back.”
“Sure,” said Alya. “I don’t need it for my quota anyways.”
They all looked at each other in silence for a moment before Alix said, “And can my soul at least get a blanket or something? It’s chilly in here.”
“It doesn’t need a blanket. It’s a soul; it can’t catch cold,” protested Alya.
“So? It’s still nippy!”
Juleka grinned and settled back as the two continued to argue. She’d helped protect someone today, she thought. She’d made it so Lila could not damn Alix. She’d done good. Nothing could ruin her mood.
###
Ten minutes after leaving Alya’s, she took a shortcut through an alley to get back to the Liberty, and then she almost bumped right into Lila Rossi.
“I know what you’re doing,” said Lila without preamble. “And it annoys me. I’ll give you one chance. Forswear Alya and take my side. I’ll give you more power and wealth, and–”
Juleka snorted. “Not a chance.”
“Fine.” Lila whistled, and something growled at Juleka from within the shadows. “Then you’ll get eaten by my pet Hellhound. See you never, Juleka.” She vanished in a puff of smoke as a gigantic wolf-like dog, drooling saliva that burned into the alley floor and breathing smoke and flame from its nostrils, approached.
Juleka gulped. Then she threw a blast of Hellfire at it, but it had no effect. Then it leapt at her and she cringed back–
Only for a blur to swoop in and knock it aside.
Juleka stared as a short girl with blond hair, wings full of white feathers, and an actual halo raised a sword. “Begone, beast!” she roared in a very familiar voice. “And bother not the innocent, lest you taste divine wrath!”
“Uh,” said Juleka. “Um.”
Then the angel–whom Juleka knew very well as Rose Lavillant–turned back. “Juleka!” she said in a slightly nervous voice. “I, um… I have some things to tell you!”
Chapter 6
“Uh,” said Juleka. “Um.”
Her heart was beating very fast, and she quickly clenched her hand–the one that Alya had marked–into a tight fist so Rose couldn’t see her palm. “You’re an, um.”
“Angel,” said Rose. “And–hey! I said stop!” She pointed her sword at the Hellhound, which was still slavering. “The power of–”
The Hellhound leapt at Rose, who sighed, then quickly swung her sword up and decapitated the beast.
Juleka boggled as Rose wiped her sword clean on the alley wall. The Hellhound’s body shuddered, then both its head and the rest of it burst into flames and crumbled to ash. “As I was saying,” Rose said. “I’m an angel. I’ve been sent here to look out for the souls of Paris.”
“…a guardian angel is dating me?” Juleka asked.
And then Rose blushed. “Well, angels are allowed to love!” she said a little too quickly. “We’re not like the other guys. And–and you’re very lovable! I can see souls, and your soul is as bright and lovely as the sun!”
Despite everything, Juleka blushed. “Um.”
“You are! You’re kind, and loyal, and… oh!” Rose swiveled on her foot. “More Hellhounds!” Juleka turned to see four more darting in from the shadows deeper in the alley. “Stay back!”
Juleka cringed against the wall as Rose rushed forwards and dueled the Hellhounds, slashing and thrusting to keep them away. However, the sheer weight of numbers began forcing her back. “Begone!” Rose yelled again, but the Hellhounds didn’t listen. “Uh… begone, I said!”
“I don’t think they’re listening,” said Juleka.
Rose gave her a tiny frowned, then blinked. “Oh, I know! I can make you my paladin. Then I can give you powers to help!”
————
I LOVE IT YES ITS AWESOME
I’d love to see more but no stress, this was just so enjoyable
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Phantoms Ch. 13
Read on Ao3
“Wake up.”
Chloe ignored the voice. She’d learned a while ago it wasn’t real, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the company. She tried not to dwell on that too much. She’d deal with her trauma responses once she was no longer experiencing the trauma.
But it was persistent today.
“Chloe,” it came again. “Wake up”.
This time, she felt something touch her shoulder. That was new. How many days had it been since she’d eaten now?
“Dammit, Chloe, I’ll carry you out of here if I have to, but I really don’t want to.”
She laughed at that, a choked rasping sound that scraped from her parched throat - another thing she was trying not to think about. “Liar,” she whispered.
“Please,” the voice begged, closer this time. Cool hands touched her wrists, her cheek. “Please, Chloe. Get up.”
That caught her attention. The voice had cajoled her, berated her, taunted her, but it had never begged before.
She cracked an eyelid, squinting against the soft glow of the sun lamps that lit the space. “…Felix?”
A rough laugh, like rocks scraping together. “Yes.”
“You’re here?” Chloe asked, coming more fully awake. She felt like she couldn’t pull the scattered pieces of her mind together long enough to form a thought. “You came?”
“Of course I came,” he said as he helped her slowly sit up. “Why wouldn’t I come?”
“Thought it might be…a waste of your time,” she breathed. She didn’t mean to hurt him; his last words were the only thing she’d managed to hold onto, and the only thing that came easily now. She felt her eyelids slide closed again, but she was too tired to do anything about it.
“That was a lie,” Koira said quietly. He was close enough she could feel the warmth, the realness of him. “A lie that I told myself so I wouldn’t get attached.”
Chloe frowned, dragging her eyes open long enough to seek his face. It was close, closer than he’d ever been. “Attached?”
“I would love to have an at-length conversation in the ways I find you completely captivating,” Koira said as Viperion rounded a corner, “But now is hardly the time. We have to get out of here.”
“I’ve tried,” Chloe said, trying to ignore how much more awake she felt now - and how hard her heart was pounding. “Gabriel didn’t just settle for taking my Miraculous.” She tugged on the reinforced steel chain and manacle around her left wrist.
“Nothing Chat Noir can’t take care of,” Viperion suggested before his transformation wore off and Zazz reappeared. Five minutes already. Hopefully Alya wasn’t having any trouble keeping their illusions lively. “Here you are.” Luka pulled a pack of goldfish crackers from the pocket of his hoodie and opened it for his kwami.
Zazz hadn’t taken more than two bites before a scream tore through the room.
“NO!”
Luka was already running, calling on his transformation as he went, but a dim light went off in Chloe’s head: whatever it was, it was already too late - Viperion’s timer had run out.
“Doesn’t sound good,” she said, willing herself to alertness.
“It never does with this bunch,” Koira muttered. “Either way, time to go.”
He didn’t give her time to brace herself. In a matter of seconds, Koira had raised his hammer over his head and brought it down in a shining arc to where the chain was attached to the wall.
“Huh,” Koira said, examining the nearly unmarked metal. “Gabriel’s talents are wasted on supervillainry.”
“Got a plan B?”
“That was plan B.”
“So now what?”
Koira’s face was grim. “Back to plan A. Chat Noir!”
But it was Ryuuko who took shape out of thin air, brandishing her katana. “We’ve lost him.”
Chloe blinked, unable to make sense of the absurd statement.
“Lost who?” Koira said with a frown.
“Chat Noir,” Ryuuko ground out. “Akuma.”
“You brought him here?” Chloe demanded as Ryuuko’s words finally clicked. “You brought him here?!”
“Do you think that anything short of Gabriel’s magical manacles would have kept him away?” Koira growled. “Is there a better way to find out your father’s a supervillain?”
“There might have been a better setting,” Chloe snapped. “Preferably one where I’m not chained to a wall.”
“I’ll try to make other arrangements next time,” Koira snarled before looking up at Ryuuko. “What are we dealing with then?”
“It’s hard to…he looks the same, but in white.
Chloe’s brow creased. “So he’s…Chat…Blanc?”
“Unlimited cataclysms,” Koira murmured. “Sounds fun.”
“Don’t mock him,” Ryuuko snapped, her fingers tightening on her katana. “He’s in pain.” And then she was gone, darting back into the fight they could still hear carrying on.
“Yeah, well, we’re all going to be in pain if he gets his hands on us,” Koira muttered to no one in particular.
“We need the Bee Miraculous back,” Chloe said, tugging weakly on her chain. “If I can just incapacitate him - ”
“Are you joking?” Koira demanded, rounding on her. “You’re in no condition to fight.”
“I’m not in any hurry to die, either!”
“KOIRA!”
Viperion’s shout was the only warning they got. Koira seized it. Instead of calling his power like he wanted to, he yanked Chloe to his chest and pressed them both up against the wall. He pulled her chain taut and whispered a prayer to whatever god might be listening. For the briefest moment, he felt Chloe curl into him, her body warm and real and whole against his.
Then the explosion sent them both flying in a shower of stone rubble.
He didn’t loosen his grip on Chloe once, not even as he landed on his shoulder hard enough he heard something crack. He grunted in pain as they skidded across the stone floor.
“Felix? Felix!”
Koira shook his head clear and realized Chloe was struggling against the grip he still held her in. He forced himself to relax, his muscles aching with the strain.
“Ok, not as much fun as previously anticipated,” he gasped out as he hauled himself into a sitting position.
“You idiot!” she shouted, grabbing the fur ruff at his neck. The tail of the chain still attached to her rattled against the floor. “What did you think you were doing!”
“Plan A,” Koira managed, “With some modifications.”
“He nearly took my arm off!”
“As if I would let you get hurt,” he said, wrapping his fingers around her free wrist.
You already did. Chloe finally blinked as her left hand drifted back down to her lap, the words waiting on her tongue. She didn’t need to say them; she could see that he knew it, too.
“They need help,” she said instead as another blast rocked the room. “Go. I can take care of myself.”
Koira made a face, his gaze darting pointedly down to the manacle still on her wrist, but didn’t mention it as his fingers slipped from her skin. “Do I need to tell you to get as far away from here as fast as you can?”
“I’m dehydrated, not stupid,” Chloe snapped. Koira just gave one last exasperated shake of his head before he stood and darted into the fray.
No, he did not need to tell her to run. It would have been a waste of time - she wasn’t going anywhere. Miraculous or no, she was still Queen Bee, and she owed Gabriel for his hospitality.
Chloe remained in a crouch as she scuttled forward towards the sounds of the fight. Her joints ached in protest and every beat of her heart begged her to lie down. She ignored them.
She paused when she was close enough she could see shadows dancing just on the other side of the table she was behind. If she remembered correctly, they were battling it out in the atrium where she’d first entered.
Ryuuko was talking. “Koira, if you use Full Counter - ”
“No!” Viperion gasped as he dodged a cataclysm. “He’s too powerful like this. It’ll kill him!”
Chloe shivered. How many times had Viperion reset their timer already? How many of them had died?
“I’m open to other ideas,” Koira said.
“We’re running out of time!” Ladybug shouted over the din. “I need to figure out my Lucky Charm.”
“Go,” she heard Viperion say. “We can keep him busy for a few minutes.”
Before Ladybug could respond, a horrible laugh echoed through the room, quiet at first, then manic. “You’ll keep me busy? I’m going to tear you apart!”
Chloe’s heart thudded in her chest. Adrien. She had never heard him sound like that before. Akumatized or not…something had broken in him. No wonder Hawk Moth had seized this opportunity. No wonder Adrien hadn’t been able to fight back. Perhaps she’d been wrong about the setting. Maybe keeping him contained in this basement cavern was for the best.
Suddenly, Ladybug was there, rolling into a crouch after vaulting over the table.
“Chloe!” Ladybug blurted, her eyes going wide. “What…you’re ok!” She frowned. “You need to get out of here. It isn’t safe.”
Even as she spoke, Chloe didn’t miss the way Ladybug kept fiddling with her Lucky Charm, a pair of bolt cutters, or the wild, haunted look in her eyes. Abruptly, Ladybug zeroed in on the chain coiled at Chloe’s feet.
“You! That’s why I couldn’t figure it out.”
“Me?”
“These must have been to free you from the wall,” Ladybug said. “We need you to win.”
Chloe couldn’t meet Ladybug’s eyes as she said, “Koira and Chat Noir kind of already took care of it, but, Ladybug…Hawk Moth took my Miraculous.”
“It’s still you, Chloe,” Ladybug insisted, leaning in to lay a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “I don’t know how exactly, but - ”
“Ladybug!” Chloe interrupted. Ladybug’s sudden closeness had given her a view of the heroine’s ears.“Your earrings! You’re going to detransform.”
Ladybug grit her teeth in frustration. “That’s ok. It was time for a new Lucky Charm anyway. Miraculous Ladybug!”
Ladybug sent the Lucky Charm skittering away from them across the floor. It burst into thousands of glowing Ladybug’s that swept the room, repairing the damage done. Chloe heard the surprised gasps of their teammates as their injuries were healed.
No sooner had the ladybugs finished a final sweep of the room then did Ladybug’s transformation itself dissolve. Yards of pale pink fabric spilled out around her, and Chloe was surprised to see she had her hair down for once.
“You dressed up for a rescue mission?” Chloe whispered as Marinette caught an exhausted Tikki in her palm.
“Gabriel’s charity auction,” Marinette said by way of explanation. “Seemed like the best time to sneak in. We were supposed to be ghosts.”
Chloe thought on it. “I’ve been here for four days then.”
“I’m sorry. We only found out this morning. The teacher’s said you were down with some kind of flu - I guess a lie from your father,” Marinette said bitterly. “Koira’s the only reason we knew to look.”
“Koira?”
“I guess he got your message the next time he finally transformed,” Marinette said as she watched Tikki finish her cookie. “He was manic. I’m surprised he even bothered to tell us first.”
Chloe tried to ignore the way her heart stumbled at that. Even after their fight, he’d kept his promise.
And then the table vanished.
Chloe flinched as it exploded against a nearby wall and shrapnel went whipping through the room. She felt some of it bite into her arm and leg. A white-hot line scored her cheek where she was sure another piece had narrowly missed her eye.
“Hiding, my love? That hurts.”
He was the most horrible thing Chloe had ever seen, a twisted replica of her friend. The only bit of colour in the sea of white were ice-chip blue eyes that were devoid of anything but rage. He was Adrien, but not. Adrien never got angry. Adrien was never violent. And Adrien had certainly never looked at Marinette like that - like he would devour her whole.
“Run!”
Marinette had grabbed Chloe by the arm and was sprinting back the way Chloe had come before she could even fully understand what had happened. Her chain clanked noisily on the floor as they ran, seeming to urge them to go fast, faster.
“Go,” Chloe panted, dizzy with the exertion. “I’m just slowing you down. You need to transform, not run.”
“I can do both,” Marinette huffed. “Tikki - !”
An explosion rocked the floor before Marinette could finish, sending both girls flying. Chloe felt the air rush from her lungs as she hit the floor and was left gasping, in too much pain to breathe in again. Her lungs squeezed.
She screwed her eyes shut, focusing on slowly taking a deep breath through the pain, even as her ribs protested. Again. Again. Again.
When Chloe could finally breathe through the worst of it, she pushed herself back up and opened her eyes to what she instantly knew would give her nightmares for weeks to come:
Marinette in her beautiful pink gown, the ribbon trailing from her hair, caught up against Chat Blanc with her back to his chest, his hand cupping her cheek, and no one to help.
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Revolt Of The Akuma [Commission for @miner249er]
As the title says, this is a commission for @miner249er
Summary: There’s only so much a person can take and Marinette is almost certain she has reached that point. What with Lila and her seemingly never-ending lies, Adrien and his nonexistent spine, Chat and his stubbornness, Hawkmoth and his akumas, Paris and their expectations, it’s all too much. She’s going to snap sooner or later. At least she has Luka and Kagami on her side, right? Right?
[Contains: Class Salt, Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir Salt, Lila Rossi Salt, Angst, Misunderstandings, Slight Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng Salt, Slight Tikki Salt, Akumanette]
It was rare for her to be surrounded by quiet, even more so to need that blanket of security that quietness can give, and yet here she was. The pink of her room had never seemed more faded or dull even with the lights on. Realistically she knew it was not quiet, her home was never quiet, there was always the bustle of business from the bakery downstairs, the sound of traffic outside, usually the sound of music coming from her phone or computer, and as always the chatter from her Kwami. Though Tikki’s words at the moment sounded like they were being spoken from above water whereas Marinette was under said water, deep under. Her eyes glanced at the mess she had made around her, the pictures of past friends as she’s come to understand all too well these past couple of months, to the torn and destroyed gifts she had given them returned to her solely for the sake of making her heart wrench painfully beneath her skin, from there to the piles of used tissues thrown about during her silent cries, and finally to the thing that had hurt the most and had been sitting in her lap, limp, shredded, basically lifeless, her sketchbook. The sight caused Marinette’s heart to clench in pain once more and she could feel tears pool her eyes yet again, but she forced them to stay, she was tired of crying.
Noise flooded back to her almost making her flinch. There was the soft ding of the bell from the bakery’s door downstairs signaling a customer’s arrival or departure, there were the car engines and the horns beeping, peoples soft voices floating in, and of course Tikki’s worried voice. Everything in her yearned for the quietness but she knew she had to deal with everything eventually and eventually meant now, so she didn’t worry her parents if they came to check on her at any point. If they even noticed her mood change from lunch, she thought bitterly and felt immediate guilt at the thought.
“Marinette…”
“Tikki.”
“Were you listening to me?” Tikki asked, and even though she knew Tikki wasn’t saying it in an admonishing tone, the girl couldn’t help the tiny wince she gave in return as she finally stood up and picked up the tissue piles. Truthfully she hadn’t but she could guess what the kwami had been saying. It was the same thing every time something happened between her and her class. That, they would come around, they were just acting out of misplaced trust and love, they would realize their mistakes and come back to Marinette and everything would go back to normal, but she had to get a handle on her feelings in the meantime so she wouldn’t be akumatized. No that wasn’t right. So that Ladybug wouldn’t be akumatized, but how could she after the day she had?
Lila made good on her promise. Marinette didn’t have a friend left in her class, maybe not all of them thought her the awful bully that Lila painted her out to be, but they didn’t stand up for her, they didn’t talk to her in or out of class, and they wouldn’t meet her eye when she desperately looked around for at least one supportive pair of eyes. It had never been this bad with Chloe. At least with Chloe she knew what she was getting into, she knew the brand of teasing and insults that Chloe Bourgeois used, and she knew that people were scared to stand up to her, but even then they would still flash each other a look of comfort, a look of strength. Those looks let all of them know they weren’t alone, that others saw them struggling, saw them hurting, and were offering comfort. Things truly were simpler then. Lila was something more than Chloe, more than any other bully she had ever seen or encountered. She had a silver-tongue that just seemed to gain more power the more she used it. Her lies were outlandish at this point and yet, no one saw it, no one but Marinette and maybe others outside her class but she wasn’t. The awful truth of it all was that Marinette had no one.
Sure Adrien had said he would be there for her, but that had been the biggest lie Marinette had ever been told, even with Lila spouting nonsense like knowing Jagged Stone because she saved his ‘kitten.’ She was always prepared for Lila to lie, could count on it, and she had become accustomed to her friends falling for the lies, but she had thought she had at least one person by her side. That had quickly been disproven again and again, and it felt like parts of her heart chipped away every time it happened. Adrien, once considered the love of her life, did nothing to ease her aching heart. There were no comforting hugs or even a hand on her shoulder to let her know that she wasn’t alone in the class of sheep. There were no glances shared between the two to let her know that he was just as fed up with Lila’s lies as she. Most importantly, and the one that hurt the most, there were no texts or calls or even letters that offered her any amount of support. That’s not to say he never texted her, but when he did it was never about anything important, it was always mundane and dare she say superficial, and sometimes, sometimes he texted her about her situation but it was never anything helpful, if anything they made her feel worse. They were always about how she was “provoking” Lila and, “what happened to taking the high road Marinette?” At first they had made her cry, she wasn’t provoking Lila, Lila was provoking her, how had Adrien not seen that? Sadness grew into anger, blinding anger, anger that caused her to rip every poster down, change her computer background with such force she nearly broke the mouse, and gave away every planned gift for every occasion, and afterwards all she felt was numb. In the beginning the numbness scared her, but it grew on her like a second skin, it protected her sometimes so she welcomed it.
“Marinette!” Again she was wrenched from her thoughts by the yell of her kwami’s voice.
It took her a couple of seconds to focus, “Yes, Tikki?”
“I lost you again. Where were you?” Tikki asked softly as she flew closer to Marinette’s face.
“Sorry. Nowhere,” Everywhere, ”just thinking.” An apology and a half answer, when was the last time she actually told someone how she was feeling without holding back? Too long, her mind supplied.
“...About today?”
“In a way.”
“Oh Marinette, things will start to get better, don’t let today get to you.” Don’t let it get to Ladybug.
“I know Tikki.” Hollow words, but they were expected, she even threw in a small smile, it was the most she could manage. It was the response of habit she gave, even to her parents, though she had the feeling they wouldn’t notice even if she did show some of her real feelings, some of her hurt. They were just so busy with the bakery sometimes that Marinette couldn’t help but feel that their attention to her was more obligation than anything else, and wow, wasn’t that just the cherry on top of everything? They had even forgotten to ask how her day was today, and though she wasn’t going to tell them, it still would have brought her some comfort to know they cared or pretended to care. At this point she would take what she could get. Today had been another rough one, but it had started out like her new normal, she would go to school and be ignored by her classmates or get glares and sneers that she in turn would ignore. Then she would go to her locker and put the bare minimum of her belongings in, that she prayed would not be destroyed (“improved”) or stolen, she did her best to boobytrap anything of importance like she did her diary since having a lock on her locker was supposedly unheard of at this school. After that was class itself where she expected her seat to be sticky or wet with something but she took to bringing wet cloths and paper towels with her since this was so common. ‘Just harmless pranks.’ Mme Bustier claimed when she first went to talk with her about the behavior. Honestly she didn’t know what she had been expecting when she went to her teacher for help, but she was not going to make that useless of a mistake again. What followed though was weird, she still found rude little notes but none of her classmates went out of their way to glare at her, or make snide comments about her, she wasn’t even tripped if they walked too close to her. To some people it would mean a break, but it only put her more on edge, like something bigger was coming, because Lila was acting strange.
She hadn’t spouted one lie about Marinette, she still lied, just nothing about Marinette, which was odd. Though Marinette pushed it from her mind in order to get some help from Mme Mendeleiev for her homework packet that was due tomorrow. Some problems were proving difficult and she knew the teacher was more than willing to help students out if they went to her, so that’s exactly what Marinette did for lunch time. She even brought a packed lunch so she could eat and work with the teacher so they had more time, it was actually rather nice. Mme Mendeleiev, though stern and strict, was a real teacher. She wanted her students to learn and Marinette yearned for that, she yearned to be one of her pupils. There was a part of her that thought that maybe the teacher wanted that as well. It was an impossible thought, she tried to transfer once, it hadn’t ended well for her. Lila spun it around when she had heard, claimed Marinette was doing it to abandon them and leave them without a class president. Oh how she spun her web of deceit and claimed Marinette was doing it for attention, to get back at the class for not believing her ‘lies.’ Of course the class and Mme Bustier believed her, because why wouldn’t they? Then Mme Bustier went behind her back and spoke to Principal Damocles and whatever they spoke about resulted in her staying in the class no matter what she tried or whatever papers she managed to get her parents to sign that would allow her a class transfer. She was stuck in the class. In her prison.
After lunch is when everything had blown up, and some twisted part of Marinette was thankful it happened sooner rather than later. Lila had made a show of holding something, some papers that looked destroyed, to her chest and “crying.” If you could call over the top whimpering crying. Marinette didn’t have to prepare herself since she had been prepared all day for something to happen when Lila and her herd of sheep came to her and yelled at her for ruining Lila’s homework and something about writing something on her locker too? She just didn’t care anymore, she still claimed her innocence and that there was no way she could have done it, but no one was listening and Adrien was just standing there frowning at her in disappointment and all she could think was, right back at you boy. Mme Bustier joined in and Marinette just stood there as the teacher of course fell for whatever scheme Lila cooked up and then held back a sigh when said teacher started to lecture her there in the hallway for everyone to see. Of course they had to make a spectacle of it, of course they did. Damocles decided to join in and Marinette thought it was for sure going to be another expulsion, some part of her hoped for it. She knew that was bad but she was just so freaking tired of dealing with it all, but to her surprise Mme Mendeleiev was her knight in shining lab coat so to say.
“Marinette didn’t do it. She was with me the entire lunch period so unless she managed to defy all laws of physics and was in two or three places at once I would say she’s being framed.” Mme Mendeleiev’s voice had commanded attention and even Lila couldn’t spin it around to keep Marinette in trouble. Even her classmates had stopped their incessant murmuring.
“But Lila said she saw her running away from her locker!” Kim had yelled in return. It spoke of Mme Bustier’s character and control of her class that she hadn’t even attempted to reprimand Kim for raising his voice to another teacher.
Marinette saw Mme Mendeleiev give Mme Bustier a look that had the younger teacher trying to reign in her rowdy class after they had all been yelling their own affirmations that yes, that was what Lila had said. “Then either Mlle Rossi needs to get her eyes checked or she saw someone else, or she’s lying.”
“Demeter! I’m sure Lila didn’t mean for this...little misunderstanding to happen. I'm sure she saw someone who looked like Marinette.” Mme Bustier had tried to reason.
“If I’m not mistaken Caline, this is not the first time this has happened to Marinette. Her being accused of something in this school and getting punished unjustly with no proof. Forgive me, or not, but I’m not going to overlook this like you. Those are serious accusations to throw at someone. It would be wrong not to investigate. Right, Damocles?” No one spoke throughout Mme Medeleiev’s little speech but Marinette saw the glare Lila was giving the teacher and Marinette was tempted to tell Mendeleiev to just drop it.
“Er, yes, of course.” Principal Damocles had stuttered out. How he had managed to be a principal Marinette would never know. Once upon a time she had thought him an awkward but good guy all around, but that was not the case anymore.
“I suspect we call Mlle Rossi’s mother to speak about this. I’m sure she would love to know that her daughter is being...if not bullied then the start of being bullied. Then we will gather students who match Marinette’s description. It’s not much but it’s the best we got. I’ll go take pictures of the locker in question.”
“Oh-Oh we really don’t have to do that. I’m sure it really is all a misunderstanding! I wouldn’t want to bother my mother!” Lila had desperately claimed.
“How is this a misunderstanding Mlle Rossi? Please explain. Because from where we teachers stand this is clearly bullying and we will not tolerate that at this school.” Mme Mendeleiev said with such authority, one would think she was the principal.
Somehow, Marinette didn’t know how, but Lila had talked her way out of having to have her mother called to the school even though Mme Mendeleiev had strongly insisted to Principal Damocles that they call her and have a sit down with her over her daughter’s wellbeing and school life. Though she honestly shouldn’t have been surprised that nothing had been done. It was Damocles after all. Lila probably said it would be best not to disturb her very busy, very important, diplomat mother and Damocles with his nonexistent spine folded. Though with all the wrong type of attention the incident had brought for the lying vixen Marinette had a relatively “relaxed” rest of her day. No one outright apologized for just blaming her for destroying another person’s work and defacing public property with no proof but at least they didn’t glare at her or make snide remarks for the rest of the day. Adrien even managed not to give her one of his lectures at the end of the day which was a big welcome on Marinette’s end. She could only deal with him being on his high-horse and looking down on her for so long and more often than not she wouldn’t even argue back she would just end the conversation with,*“Il n’y a pas plus sourd que celui qui ne veut pas entendre.”
The day had started to look up for her and she was going to strike the iron while it was hot so to say. Her steps felt lighter. It’s like Mme Mendeleiv’s belief in her gave her invincibility for the day and she found herself actually looking forward to seeing Luka and Kagami at the end of the school day since she would finally have something good to share rather than her usual bouquet of gloom. The sun seemed brighter when she remembered that fencing practice was cancelled that day due to M D’Argencourt having some appointment to go to and a substitute couldn’t be found so the fencing club students had the day off. Marinette had excitedly texted Kagami that they should meet up after school and hang out earlier than the trio had planned since the girl had more free time. Kagami had agreed but said she would meet Marinette at her house as she had some things to take care of there at the school that she wanted to finish up before they met up. Of course Marinette had agreed without question, Kagami liked things to be in order before she had her free time and Marinette understood that. Now, Marinette didn’t remember what she had forgotten, but she knew she had forgotten something in her locker and had rushed from her home to grab it, not wanting her luck to run out for the day. She didn’t know why but since she was back at the school she felt the need to go talk with Mme Medeleiev and thank her once more for what she had done that day for Marinette. Whether the teacher knew it or not, she had given Marinette some hope back.
So she was going to do just that when she had heard familiar voices. Luka and Kagami? Kagami she could understand but why had Luka been there? He was supposed to meet them at Marinette’s house so she was immensely confused to hear his soft voice echo the halls. Her curiosity had gotten the best of her then and she had followed its call. She had not expected to find the scene she had stumbled upon, and the way her heart lurched with such pain. You would think I’d be used to it by now. Her eyes watered as she watched Kagami and Luka, her closest and only friends sitting with Lila and looking at her with such concern and half hugging her to give her comfort. She couldn’t hear what was being said but she would wager it was about her, she saw the disapproving frowns both Luka and Kagami gave in response to whatever Lila had said and all Marinette could think was, I’ve lost them too. She took them from me too. Before she knew it she had ran back home, to her room and had, well, she wasn’t too sure to be completely honest. It all went by in a blur, but she did remember texting Kagami and Luka and saying she wasn’t feeling well and maybe they could hang out together tomorrow, despite knowing Luka would have band practice and Kagami would have fencing practice. Then threw her phone onto her chaise and looked at her pictures of her friends she still had on her walls, she thought of the gifts she had given and all she had felt was this white hot rage and sadness that consumed her.
She heard, more than felt the ripping and smashing of the things that reminded her of a past she could never get back. Marinette was done listening to Tikki in that moment, and she was done believing she had anyone on her side like she thought she did. Kagami and Luka, they both held little pieces of what was left of her heart and she could feel those pieces breaking with every thing she destroyed. Now here she sat in the aftermath of her destruction and she didn’t even feel satisfied. A small part of her still felt hurt, she was sure she had to have made noise, quite a bit of it, and yet neither of her parents had checked on her. It was just another drop added to her already too-full cup.
“I’m sure it wasn’t what it looked like, Marinette.” Tikki chirped as she flew to Marinette’s sink and back with a wet cloth in her hand to help Marinette clean her face.
“What?”
“Luka and Kagami.” Tikki said their names so simply, “I’m sure it wasn’t what you’re thinking. You’ll see! We have to see them for patrol tonight. I’m sure you can ask them subtly about it as a concerned hero of Paris.”
The only concerned hero. Her mind bitterly spat out without warning. The thought almost made her wince in shock at the venom that came from it. Though she found herself not apologetic in the least, Chat had been proving himself to be unreliable. At first she had brushed off his behavior as his usual antics and she had been beating herself over the head about it everyday it seemed like. He became more aggressive in his flirting and really that’s what it was, it wasn’t passionate, it wasn’t some misguided persistence, it wasn’t just him being a “boy”, he became aggressive in his affection for her. He started asking her on more and more dates, bringing her more and more gifts and each time she rejected him, reminding him they had work to do, or she had plans, or that his timing was not the best, or of course that she had feelings for someone else, he started “punishing” her and Paris as a result. He would refuse to help, sometimes he wouldn’t show up to a battle at all, he would only call to ask her if she had come to her senses and realized she loved him and when she wouldn’t give him the answer he wanted he would hang up and the battle would be a lonely one. She had tried to get Master Fu to do something about it but he had brushed it off much like she had in the beginning. Seemed like he still had faith in the cat, Marinette wished she could say the same but it would be a lie, besides she had kind of announced she no longer trusted Chat to help her since she gave Luka and Kagami their individual Miraculous back but to permanently use to help her defend the city. So instead of Ladybug and Chat Noir defending Paris, it was Ladybug, Viperion and Ryuuko.
“I think I want to go out a little early Tikki. Maybe the fresh air and time out will do me some good.” Marinette said with forced cheer as she stood and stretched her arms high above her head.
“I think that’s a good idea Marinette!” Tikki chirped as she zipped through the air to hover at Marinette’s shoulder and she couldn’t help but chuckle. With a quick saying of the magic words and one transformation later, Marinette was out slinging from rooftop to rooftop. There was no destination in mind just yet, she just wanted to simply be for a while. Everything finally felt okay and she was ready to actually head to the top of the Eiffel Tower to wait for Luka and Kagami as their hero forms so they could start actual patrol when she heard their voices. It sounded like they were trying to keep quiet about something. She didn’t want to pry but it was late and if they were out this late as their civilian selves she had a duty to them to make sure they were okay. With a quick swing she was at the Château Edmond de Rothschild where the voices seemed to come from, it was supposed to be not accessible to the public, so why were they there?
A quick peek was all it took to understand why and Marinette had to stop herself from making any noise, whether it be a sob or a scream or a gasp. She couldn’t risk it if what she was seeing was real, but there it was right in front of her. Luka and Kagami were sitting in their hero forms holding a charm of some kind between them and they both had the sickening violet glow of Hawkmoth around their eyes. They didn’t seem angry or sad, or even like they were being akumatized so she wasn’t really sure what was going on but she was going to put an end to it. Now.
“Yes Hawkmoth. Ladybug trusts us completely, we are doing our part.” Kagami said.
“But...Chat Noir has yet to show up. That has helped us get closer to Ladybug yes, but it means we don’t know where the Black Cat Miraculous is for you.” Luka had added on and it was another stab to Marinette’s heart. They, her most trusted allies, her friends, her maybe something more’s, were working with...oh god she was going to be sick. She had to get out of there. She didn’t know how long she had swung but at some point she hadn’t been thinking about where her yoyo should attach itself and she fell down into a garden. No, she couldn’t identify the garden because she couldn’t see past the tears. Marinette didn’t know how long she laid there crying but she quickly took off her earrings and just as soon as she did Tikki zipped out.
“Marinette…”
“You said things would get better Tikki. How? How is this supposed to get better? Luka and Kagami...they are...they’re working for HIM!” She screamed and she didn’t care who heard, she was tired of suffering in silence.
“I’m sure it wasn't-”
“What? What, it looked like?....I’m done. I’m done sacrificing everything for this city. Sacrificing my feelings. I need to feel Tikki!” Without waiting for a response, Marinette threw the earrings and ran further into the park. She sobbed as loud and she had wanted to, needed to, and she couldn’t stop. She collapsed yet again, this time in a patch of butterfly bushes, though she hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t the only thing she hadn’t noticed, there was an akuma flying her way, but by the time she heard the tell-tale sign of the flap of its wings it was too late. The thing had already morphed with something on her person and all she could do was gasp.
______________________________________________________
Gabriel Agreste couldn’t help the tiny shout of joy he let out because finally, finally he had managed to snag his masterpiece. She had evaded him for so long, her will over her emotions had always seemed so iron strong but finally, Marinette Dupain Cheng was akumatized, and she was going to be the one to get him the Miraculi he craved. He could feel it. He turned to brag to his swarm of butterflies seeing how Nathalie wasn’t in the lair but when he did so he paused. All his butterflies were gone. Honestly he had to just stand and stare because where could they have gone? And why hadn’t he noticed or heard them leave?
No matter. The important thing was that he had Marinette Dupain Cheng under his control and it was going to be glorious. She would make quite the spectacle for Ladybug and, well, the heroes and Chat Noir when she appeared tomorrow. Victory was close, he could practically taste it.
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Wang Fu had made many mistakes in his life and he regretted every single one, but this one, this one was causing him the most pain. Marinette, the girl he had chosen to be Paris’s pillar of hope, the girl he had seen as a granddaughter, the girl he had failed to protect when she needed him, was in danger. He had been sleeping when Tikki had come flying into his shop wailing about Marinette. At first he and Wayzz couldn’t understand her, when she managed to calm down some she gave him some of the most devastating news he had ever received. Marinette Dupain Cheng had given up the mantle of Ladybug and had been akumatized. He had been desperate to know why and know why Tikki looked so guilty because surely it could not be her fault. Then the kwami had spilled everything, she told of the situation at school, the situation with Chat Noir, with Adrien that he himself had thought was nothing more than him being a stubborn boy, and she had told him how even she believed her user was somehow something more than human and would be able to handle it all. She had been angry at Marinette for throwing her away but had realized that it wasn’t her fault and had tried to find the girl to talk to her but by the time she had found her...it had been too late. So here he sat after calling Chat Noir to his shop and hoping the young hero...no, the young boy, would show.
“Master Fu?” Adrien asked softly as he entered the shop, it was almost easy to believe that the young boy wasn’t wayward and that Fu hadn’t made yet another mistake.
“In here Adrien.”
“Uh, what’s the matter Master Fu? You never call me Adrien. You said this was about Ladybug. Did she...Did she say something to you?” Near the end it was easy to see now the hidden anger the boy held, why hadn’t he seen it?
“No. This is something...far worse I’m afraid. Ladybug has been…”
“Ladybug has been defeated.” Tikki finished for him.
He watched as Adrien’s eyes widened and he gaped at Tikki, he looked as though he didn’t want to believe it. Fu wanted to yell at the boy. He had no right to stand there and act like he cared about Marinette. “That is not all. A young girl has been akumatized and I fear she may be the strongest akuma Hawkmoth has ever made.”
“What do you mean Ladybug has been defeated!? Defeated by who!?”
“By the akuma,” Fu lied, though was it really a lie?
“What akuma?”
“Not what. Who. The akuma is Marinette Dupain Cheng and from what Tikki and Ladybug have told me...Hawkmoth has been wanting to akumatize her for a long time. Whatever sent her to his side...I’ve met the girl. She is a kind soul and to know that he has her under his control...Adrien. You have to stop her. After that...after that is when you and I will sit down and have another talk, but in the meantime find Mlle Dupain Cheng and help her.” Fu pleaded, and he couldn’t help the tear that escaped.
The emotion seemed to hit Adrien, though it didn’t seem to be the only thing. “Marinette is the akuma? How?”
“I think you know the answer to that Agreste.” Tikki answered with a glare from where she was being held by Plagg who honestly looked like he wanted to scratch his owner's eyes out.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“We don’t have time for this. Adrien, just please, go and find her. Help her.” Fu watched as Adrien had left, it was almost morning now and he had work to do as well. He had to retrieve the Snake and Dragon Miraculi before their current users handed them off to Hawkmoth, as he doubted they would help in the fight to save Marinette, and he didn’t trust them enough to let them try.
“We’ll get her back Tikki. We will.”
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Adrien was not having a good morning, he had spent the early hours of it searching for his friend and coming up empty, and the more he came out with nothing the easier it was to be frustrated. Though it seemed like frustration was something to be shared in the Agreste home since his father also seemed to be irritable that morning. More than that, he and Nathalie seemed off and they were the most put together people he knew. Them being off, threw him off, thankfully he was still at school on time, which is too say he wasn’t his usual early self, but he was there a couple minutes before the bell would ring which gave him a very small window of time to search for Marinette before class began. Though he’s not entirely sure she would even show up at school if she was an akuma but where else would she go? She had a problem with Lila and Lila was at school so the answer had to be there right? God he hoped so.
The bell was about to ring though so he ran back to class after searching the locker rooms and barely made it to his seat when the bell did ring. Marinette wasn’t there. But she was going to show up, he just knew it. She had to. Lila was the source of her anger probably, even if it was childish, she would come to settle the score and that’s when he would swoop in and save the day. Then maybe just maybe, Ladybug would finally see that they were meant to be and realize how amazing he was. The thought had made him smile, almost losing himself in the daydream, that is until he saw a familiar pair of pink pants enter the room. He was at immediate attention and was alert because Marinette...didn’t look like an akuma. She looked like normal herself, but she was an akuma right? So why didn’t she look like one?
“Marinette. Late again?” Mme Bustier asked even though it was obvious.
“I won’t be long Caline.” Marinette replied and her voice...it was just off. Yes it was Marinette but at the same time it wasn’t.
“Marinette! You will speak to me respectfully or I will have no choice but to-”
“To what? Tell me to be a better example? I’m tired Caline, I’m tired of being your doll that you dress up and play pretend with. I’m not a doll, and I’m not a teacher’s assistant, though it seems like that’s what you believe me to be seeing as you push me to do your job. Constantly, so don’t even try to deny it. It’s the teacher’s job to placate their students and make sure that their classroom environment is a healthy one. You allow bullies to reign free from punishment and in turn punish the victims. Do you ever get tired of being the indirect cause of akumas? Because really how many of your students have been akumatized and you have the gall to say you’re a great teacher, everyone’s favorite teacher no less.” Everyone in the room was dead silent. This wasn’t Marinette at all, but before anyone could say anything the akuma continued, though they didn’t know she was an akuma and Adrien so badly wanted to shout it out to warn everybody.
“Then there is all of you sheep. I had the absolute displeasure of once being your friend, but I realized you were never my friends to begin with. If you were you wouldn’t have believed lies over me.”
“Is this really what this is about Girl?” Alya shouted.
“Alya, it seems like you want me to start with you. You claim to be a journalist, a seeker of the truth, but that is the biggest lie you have ever sold yourself beside Ladybug’s best friend over there. You are a hypocrite. You say you are a defender against bullies and villains. Well you Alya Cesaire are one of the biggest bullies by association I know. You turned your back on me. On the truth. You refused to open your eyes and see what was truly there. You became a bully and enjoyed it. You took pleasure in everything you did to make me miserable alongside Lila. Well congratulations Rena Rouge you have been outfoxed and it isn’t because of some sapotis or illusions. I was wrong to ever trust you.”
Everyone watched as Alya grew pale and just sat there with her mouth agape. “Nino, Kim, Alix, Ivan. You became destroyers rather than the protectors of the weak you boasted about to make yourselves feel better. Well guess what Nino? There’s no shell to protect you from the truth! You are a bully, bigger than Chloe! Because instead of not doing anything like you had last time I was bullied for years on end, this time you partook in the “merriment.” Kim. How I ever trusted you with anything is beyond me. You know in China to call a child a monkey is a great compliment, to call you anything similar would be a great disrespect. How you held the title of the monkey king...I’ll never understand it. Alix, you always liked to believe you were as fast as a rabbit both in mind and body, well the rabbit is dead. Your time will never come again I’ll see to it. Your most prized possession, your watch, I helped you restore it after it had been broken and I even gave it back to you but that was a mistake on my part as you never deserved it in the first place. Ivan, who helped you during Stoneheart? Who? Oh that’s right it was me? I helped you see you weren’t that monster but I was wrong. I was very wrong.” The words were cruel and Adrien didn’t know where all this anger was coming from. Lila was the target right? Shouldn’t she only be going after her, not their friends? He had to sneak out and transform, he didn’t know where her item was but he would find it and put an end to all this unnecessary hurt.
“Oh Adrien, where do you think you’re going? You’re at the top of my list.”
“Your list?” He asked as though he hadn’t been caught trying to get out of his seat.
“Yes. The list of people who have wronged me. The list of people who have turned me into the current me. The list of people I hate. Sorry, but not sorry If you can’t handle hearing how imperfect you are but you will listen to what I have to say.”
Adrien didn’t understand why everyone gasped but he was hurt to hear that Marinette hated him. No it had to be the akuma’s influence, it just had to be. “I’m sorry you feel that way Marinette.”
Marinette walked up to him and took both his hands in hers, it would have been a sweet gesture if it weren’t for the added pressure. “Save it. I don’t want your superficial pity. You Adrien Agreste are the biggest liar I know next to Lila. You knew she was lying. You knew she was lying from the start seeing how Ladybug told you herself that Lila and her were not friends. Oh yeah I know about that, in the park, or how about when Lila was akumatized to be the Chameleon, which by the way Lila very unoriginal and I’m fairly certain you were akumatized on purpose but hey what proof do I have right? And she pretended to be you because she didn’t like what you had to say about her lying. Yet you still didn’t tell your so called friends about her, because you don’t care about anyone but yourself! I learned that the hard way. I believed you when you said we were in this together and that if we both knew then that was enough and that we should take the moral highroad. What a joke! I am truly disgusted with myself for ever thinking I was in love with you.”
What!?
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Luka couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he and Kagami had rushed to Marinette’s class after they had each gotten a call from her mother asking if either one of them had seen Marinette. Apparently they went up to her room and realized she was missing but thought maybe she had told them she was spending the night at Alya’s and they maybe just hadn’t heard but when they had called her and texted her with no response they had gotten worried. More so when she hadn’t shown up that morning. Luka had immediately felt his heart drop. Marinette was, well, she was his melody and to think that something could have happened to her, it made him get on his bike and search as many places as he could think of. It seemed like Kagami had the same idea because he ran into her and her car before they decided it would be better to search together. He felt awful about her cancelling their plans yesterday but figured she just genuinely wasn’t feeling well. Luka was beating himself over the head because obviously that wasn’t the case.
Maybe if him and Kagami hadn’t been so focused on helping get evidence that Lila was a liar and who Hawkmoth could be they wouldn’t be in this mess, but they had done all that for Marinette. They had seen what Lila had done to her and Kagami had been the one to say she didn’t trust Lila and proposed they help Marinette expose her for the lying weasel she was. Luka had been all for it, even if they had to pretend to be nice. When they found out that Lila actually didn’t like Ladybug well, that had been a shock but they had played into it. Both he and Kagami had acted like they too despised the superheroine and finally they saw Lila, the real Lila, or at least a small glimpse of her. She believed they really didn’t like Marinette and Ladybug, she believed they were her spies on Marinette, and then she admitted something that genuinely made Luka sick to his stomach.
Lila was working with Hawkmoth. And she wanted them to help them and join their “team.”
It had seemed like a good idea at the time. It was more evidence against Lila Ross and it was a way to help Ladybug who had seemed like she was being spread thin thanks to that no good Chat. So him and Kagami agreed to help. Then Ladybug asked them to be permanent heroes. They told Hawkmoth in order to gain trust from him and he had seemed pleased. Fake working with him was disgusting but him and Kagami felt like they were getting close to figuring out who he could be or what his ultimate goal was, but one thing was for certain and that was, for some odd unexplainable reason, Hawkmoth wanted to akumatize Marinette. He wanted Luka and Kagami to help, they had been hoping to unmask him before it came to that, but hearing Marinette now and seeing her...that was not Marinette. Hawkmoth succeeded somehow. Because that in there was an akuma and it was breaking Luka’s heart, more so when he realized it had way more information about people and the Miraculi than anyone would other than Ladybug herself.
“Luka...that’s.” Kagami had never sounded so lost.
“I know. Marinette was, is, Ladybug.”
“What do we do?”
“We save her. And...and we tell her the truth.”
They were ready, they were opening their mouths to say their separate transformation phrases when a window in the classroom broke. They turned to look inside to see if it was Marinette running out and finally showing an akuma form, but all they saw was a green blur and Marinette leisurely following after the blur out of the school to the park outside. Of course they followed, but when they went to transform they both realized, their respective Miraculous was gone. What did they do now?
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Fu had done it. He had retrieved the Dragon and Snake Miraculous, with help from Tikki as she took them from their holders as he caused a distraction as Jade Turtle. It was never easy to hold his transformation but he had done it for the short while he had to. That was one, kind of two, problems out of the way, now all he had to do was wait for Adrien to save Marinette. “He will do it”
“He will, Master.” Tikki muttered from his shoulder as Wayzz nodded his agreement from Fu’s other shoulder.
“I doubt it.” Fu nearly fell with how he stumbled back at what had landed in front of him. It was Marinette but also not. He didn’t want to call her an akuma because even that felt like a wrong description. She felt like something else entirely, looked it too. She wore some armor like that of a knight over what appeared to be a black body suit, but one made of light. Her freckles seemed more like stars and if he looked closer each star was unique, and almost seemed to resemble every past akuma
“Marinette...what...what are you?”
“A protector, the Protector.” Marinette answered as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
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As soon as Marinette felt the akuma merge with her, because truly it felt like it merged with her and not an object, she felt so much. She could feel the butterfly feel her pain, her anger, could feel it soak up her negativity. She in turn could feel its pain and anger, its sadness too. Her heart filled with so much empathy. Then it was like the voice of the butterfly doubled, then tripled, then there were too many voices to be heard but Marinette understood. She felt their pain because it was the same as hers. All of them had been used, all of them together had put their trust in people they shouldn’t have. Though she had no way to see it, Marinette just knew she was covered in butterflies because she refused to call them akumas, they were victims just as she was, just as Paris was too, to Hawkmoth.
They told her they wouldn’t let him harm her. That they would protect her. That was the moment that Marinette felt that she and them were one and she vowed to protect them just as they vowed to protect her. She accepted them, she let them and her truly become one, because at that moment they were her only friends, her only family, and she was going to protect them from their abuser. They sung her praises, they gave her strength, they whispered a name and place. Their former owner. She listened and she heard and Marinette followed where they led. The closer they got to the Agreste Mansion, the louder the cries of Nooroo she could hear, could feel. She vowed she would protect him as well. He was her family, her friend too, just like the butterflies. A part of her felt like she should have been surprised that Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth and that so, Nathaniel Sancoeur was most likely Mayura, but really she just felt anger. Gabriel and Nathalie were to face justice. Her justice.
They would pay for their crimes against Paris, and their abuse of the Miraculi, kwami, and butterflies. She was the Protector and nothing would stand in her way.
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“I don’t wish to fight you, but I see you believe me to be an akuma. I’m not. I don’t expect you to believe me but it’s the truth. I am merely the Protector now. As a sign of good faith,” Marinette, or Protector held out a hand to Fu, one he was reluctant to reach out for. “Here.”
It seemed like she caught on to his hesitation because Marinette threw whatever had been in her hand to him. Tikki and Wayzz had quickly helped catch them and when he saw what Marinette had tossed him he felt faint. Whether it was from relief or fear he didn’t know. Marinette had given him the Peacock and Cat Miraculi. “And what of the Butterfly Miraculous?”
“I’m keeping it. You couldn't protect it, so I will in your place. Nooroo and I decided it is what is best.” At the mention of the kwami, said kwami fly out into the open to sit in Marinette’s open palm.
“Marinette I can’t let you do that.”
“We’re not asking permission.” Nooroo stated as he nuzzled Marinette’s thumb that was caressing his head. “Marinette and I have suffered at the hands of Paris long enough.”
“This was merely me wanting to say goodbye face to face. Don’t come looking for me Fu.”
Fu could only watch at Marinette, Nooroo, and a swarm of white akumas jumped away from him and his kwami. He didn’t know what else he could do. He was too old to run after her, and he didn’t have anyone he could trust with a Miraculous with to send after her. So he just watched as Marinette continued to get smaller and smaller in his vision, until she was gone. Though she asked not to be looked for, he would do it, because Marinette deserved to be found and talked some sense into. When he found her, an apology didn’t feel good enough, but he would give her the biggest most heartfelt apology. She was a kind soul, and truly deserved none of this.
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It was chaos. Tom and Sabine had closed the bakery but it was still filled with people, only it was Marinette’s class and Luka and Kagami. They didn’t dare call this class their daughter’s friends after they finally learned what had really been happening at the school. Luka and Kagami had told them everything and Sabine, Sabine sobbed and had called out for her baby girl till her voice was hoarse. What had they done to her baby girl? But they apologized to them, they said they were tricked. It felt more like they were trying to trick them, but nonetheless they needed help figuring out where Marinette could be and they were offering to help. Tom said it was out of guilt and had wanted to kick them out but Sabine convinced him it would be more manpower to help with the search. Truth was, they were just as guilty, they hadn’t realized something was wrong with their daughter until she was missing.
Adrien had come in with his arm in a cast, when they asked what happened, the class claimed it was Marinette when she was an akuma. Adrien hadn’t denied it, in fact he looked angry, every time Marinette was mentioned he would frown, and Tom had been so so close to just tossing the boy out, but they heard the kids gossiping and saying that someone had broken into the Agreste Mansion and had beaten Gabriel and his assistant pretty badly. When asked about it Adrien would get really quiet but would confirm that his father and Nathalie were in the hospital due to injuries. He looked a mess.
Luka and Kagami though,...those two looked worse. They looked as though someone had ripped out their hearts. They were there physically, helping wherever they could and however they could, but one glance and you could tell they weren’t there in spirit. It was awful. Paris was celebrating the supposed defeat and disappearance of Hawkmoth and Mayura, but how could Tom and Sabine join in the merriment when they couldn’t share that joy with their pride and joy? The guilt of being so busy had never hit them so hard, but they vowed that once they found Marinette, they would do everything in their power to make it up to her.
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It was quiet, actually it was more like her ears were ringing so loud that it was impossible to hear anything. Her body collapsed from exhaustion, she couldn’t travel any further but she felt the distance. It felt safe. She felt safe and maybe that’s why her body just kind of shut itself down, maybe that’s why when the butterflies and Nooroo prodded at her mind if she was willing to give up the akuma and drop the transformation and which she did, that didn’t mean that Marinette wasn’t going to fight to stay conscious even if it was a losing battle. But she was so tired and she could feel Nooroo reassuring her that they were safe and that? That was enough for her. She quickly slipped into unconsciousness and for once didn’t fear the possibility of nightmares, because she knew when she woke up she wouldn’t be back in Paris anymore. Though with falling unconscious she did fail to introduce herself to those who found her, right away.
“I’m telling you guys I saw something wash up on the beach from my house!” A boy said as he and his friends made their way down the beach.
“Yeah? Last time you said that and dragged us here it was just a piece of driftwood.” Another boy piped in with a point of his finger.
“And you claimed it was a real mermaid this time.” His twin sister added.
“Guys be nice I’m sure it’s an actual real mermaid this time.” A girl laughed as she walked ahead to walk side by side with the first boy.
“Actually there are many documents of mermaids you know.” The third boy of the group said matter-of-factly.
“Any of them driftwood mermaids?” the fourth boy of the group asked with a laugh.
“Ha ha ha, very funny. But I’m telling you I really saw...someone. Oh my gods.” The first boy had started before he actually did see the slumped form of Marinette just lying there.
*Il n’y a pas plus sourd que celui qui ne veut pas entendre Translation: No one is as deaf as the one who does not want to listen.
#miraculous ladybug#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir#miraculous ladybug salt#ml class salt#adrien agreste salt#lila rossi salt#alya cesaire salt#slight tom and sabine salt#slight tikki salt#angst#akumanette#akuma marinette#marinette dupain cheng#ml tikki#master fu#ml wayzz#ml nooroo#ml plagg#caline bustier#caline bustier salt#mme mendeleiv#principal damocles#mysterious characters at ending#open ending#hopeful ending#hinted and slight lukanette#hinted and slight kagaminette#hawkmoth#mayura#gabriel agreste
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ALEXANDER FAWCETT.
Fame was something that Lukas had never given a fuck about. In fact, acting wasn’t even something that had ever crossed his mind to do until after he had escaped the hell house he called his childhood home and saw a movie for the first time and from that second he was hooked. He wanted to make the kind of movies he adored and he was one of the lucky ones who were picked up by an agent, made a few movies, got a main role in a hit movie and suddenly everyone knew his name. He had never understood what the fascination with him was because all he wanted to do was help make the movies that he enjoyed. The entire process was interesting to him and he always got as involved as he could, wanting to know how EVERYTHING worked which he knew was something that confused a lot of the people behind the scenes. But when Lukas was interested in something, he wanted to know absolutely everything so he could be the utmost best. Other than fame, the one negative part of this job was how many PEOPLE he had to deal with. He had never been good around people because of how isolated he was as a child and now whenever there were too many around, he struggled to cope and became moody and irritated by everyone. Interviews were the fucking WORST and he despised every second and wasn’t even sure why he had to sit there listening to some whiny person ask him stupid questions because they knew nothing about filmmaking and only cared because he was a supposed celebrity. They always wanted to know about his personal life but why should they? He was here to make movies, not to talk about who he’d been fucking or hanging out with or what his opinions on fucking climate change were. Why did anyone give a shit?
His PR manager was constantly trying to get him to be more social, go to more parties and events, use social media -- things that would get people talking about him. Sometimes he complied but most of the time he was uninterested and just wanted to get back to his apartment alone so he could calm himself down after every overwhelming day. He had yet to go to an award show, unless he knew for certain that he wouldn’t win an award, because the thought of having to mingle with all these stupid fame whores or stand up on stage and give a speech made his stomach spin with anxiety. As a teenager, weed was his go-to substance to help him out when things became a little too much for him but now he had money and access to things that he probably shouldn’t have access to, he had moved onto the stronger things. Once upon a time, he hated the idea of drinking and using drugs because losing control was his worst fear but now he didn’t care because it was the easiest way for him to deal with being around people. He did his best to remain sober on sets so he wouldn’t fuck up -- he was now far too conscious that people watched his every move -- but sometimes on a bad day he’d be snorting cocaine in his trailer, just to help him interact with all the people on set before he had a fucking breakdown.
Now he was essentially famous and gradually becoming a huge star -- he hoped he might leave some sort of legacy behind now -- he was constantly being invited to all these parties held by other famous faces. Usually he didn’t bother going to a lot of them but he had a film coming out soon and his PR manager had been strongly urging him to go to this one tonight because apparently it was one that would be talked about all week, so he decided to just go, get high and then fuck off bad home. Maybe he’d even get laid considering it had been a while. There were always faces he recognised now -- co-workers or people he knew from seeing them on the big screen himself. But what was more surreal was when people recognised HIM. It was rare to see him at parties and rare to see him interacting with anyone so he was often surrounded when he actually did show up and it always made him feel sick. So he did the only thing he knew would loosen him up and got high and drunk until he was able to converse with people and take photos with them, which would hopefully make his PR manager proud and shut her up for the rest of the week. It was late into the night when he finally took and step back and went to stand in a corner so he could be alone, nursing a drink he didn’t really need between his hands. He was wobbling a little as he stood there so he leaned back against the wall, pulling out his phone to check the time. One in the morning. Maybe it was a good time for him to slip out and go home now but he realised that somebody was approaching him and he forced himself to smile instead of scowl. “Hi, I am Lukas,” he said in his media voice which often came out whenever he was interacting with somebody he didn’t know. “This party is... great.” He still wasn’t good at small talk because personally he thought it was pointless and would rather stand in silence but apparently that was rude, so he did his best.
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Black
Part 1: Red
Synopsis:
I am sure that she does not want to see me.”
He stared at the basket, contemplating the idea of decorating it with a ribbon. Maybe it would make her happy? But...What was her favorite color?
“And why not?”
“Because she doesn’t…Because I don’t…”
Why not?
I started writing the second part of Red soon after I finished it, but I never had the time to finish it. I found it on my cellphone and decided to finish it. It’s supposed to be a three chapter fanfiction, so look foward a part 3!
I hope you guys enjoy it!
TW: Mention of prostitution and prejudice towards disabled people.
Blanc left the room, trying to hide his tiredness and shock. He raised his head slowly, staring at the two brothers with a gaze that showed many emotions- among them, disappointment.
“Is she asleep?” Jonah asked, anxiously tightening the package he held between his hands.
Luka observed him quickly, straightening his back in an attempt to show firmness. He could’ve managed it, if it weren’t for his shaking hands.
“Yes, she just dozed off. Oliver is inside there with her, so there’s nothing to worry about.” He took his glasses off his face, wiping them delicately with a handkerchief. “Anything else?”
Luka and Jonah looked at each other, unsure of what to say.
During a whole month, The Black and Red armies discussed the Alice case. Lancelot had made it clear that the girl would stay with the Red Army, returning to the Land of Reason as soon as the full moon reached the sky. Obviously, Ray and his companions went against this idea, demanding that the young woman was put under the care of the Black Army. Only when Blanc and Oliver interfered on the matter that it was decided that Alice would stay with them, on neutral ground.
Nobody asked her anything. Actually, since the incident, no word left her lips. Kyle and Jonah tried to cheer her up with motivational speeches and pastries brought from town, Fenrir and Seth did their best to try to coach laughs from her, but, in any cases, no emotion appeared on her face. She only stared at them with an empty gaze, her pink lips pressed in a tight line. Just like a doll.
“Won’t you guys need help?” Jonah asked, bringing Luka back to the present. “I-I can send one of my men to help. Or I could!” Luka felt surprise run through his body; never in his life had he seen Jonah act in such a way.
“No, no. It won’t be necessary.”
“But won’t you need to carry her? To bath her, dress her, and even to take her on walks….Won’t it be too much for you two?” He looked nervously at Luka, as if demanding support from him. “We two can help!”
Normally, Luka would be angry for being involved without being consulted before, but, at that moment, he only agreed with Jonah, nodding quickly. He would do anything to help.
“It won’t be necessary.” Blanc laughed, a fake laugh. “This old man still has some strength on his body. And Oliver will be here to help me...Everything will be okay.” Suddenly, his smile disappeared, a serious expression forming on his face. “So, you two need to go. I am sure that, for now, the young lady needs distance from anyone that is involved with both armies.”
Oh.
Luka nodded robotically, cold sweat running down his nape. He turned his back to his brother and the record keeper, walking slowly towards the door.
“I-I-” He heard Jonah clearing his throat, trying to pretend that his stutter was nothing but an itch on his throat. “I brought this for her...Hah, I don’t even know if she likes it.”
Luka heard the noise of the package being passed to Blanc, but he didn’t turn back to see what it was. When he was in front of the door, Blanc answered calmly.
“I am sure that she will enjoy the Mille Feule, Jonah.”
Hah.
How ridiculous.
…………
Another full moon had passed, and Alice was still in Cradle.
Luka did not know her true name, nor her age, or what she liked to do and not even if she wanted to stay in wonderland. He hadn’t visited her since she started living with the White Rabbit, feeling intimidated by the disappointed look on Blanc’s face and by Oliver’s insults and, above all, the empty look of the woman.
Fenrir and Seth visited the record keeper’s house every day- always without their army uniforms. Sometimes, Ray accompanied them, and even Sirius joined them once, taking flowers and desserts to try to raise her spirits.
He heard from Sirius that Kyle and Zero also visited her regularly, the first to check on her condition, and the second to help Blanc and Oliver on her time outside, guiding her wheelchair (a gift from Oliver) around calm places, with few people around. God, even Jonah went to visit the foreign woman. Fenrir had told him that there were many times that they arrived at the residence and found the Queen of Hearts and Alice chatting calmly and sharing pastries that she could not eat alone.
Even if knew all this, Luka didn’t have the courage to visit Alice. Every night he repeated to himself that he would visit her tomorrow, that tomorrow would be the day that he would apologize to her. But, every single morning, he’d hide between excuses to not fulfill his promises.
He really was a pathetic person.
………
“You should come too.” Sirius said, a serious look, almost disapproving, on his face. “It’s the least you can do for her.”
Luka sighed, putting some Cinnamon Rolls that he had baked this morning on a basket.
“I am sure that she does not want to see me.”
He stared at the basket, contemplating the idea of decorating it with a ribbon. Maybe it would make her happy? But...What was her favorite color?
“And why not?”
“Because she doesn’t…Because I don’t…”
Why not?
He looked away from Sirius’ eyes, trying to escape from the judgement and disappointment that only existed on his head. Shoving the basket full of pastries and fruits at Sirius' arms, Luka left the kitchen, ignoring Sirius' attempt of calling him back.
Why not?
………
Luka only visited Blanc’s house six months later. A month before, they had finally discovered the whole truth about Lancelot and Amon, joining forces and defeating the ill-intent man. Now, both armies were busy with dealing with the aftermaths of the war, working together to reconstruct their country and look after it.
However, because everybody was so busy, no one had time to visit the young lady that came from the land above.
Yes, she was still there.
After half a year.
Why?
To be honest, he didn’t want to come, but when neither Sirius’ pleas nor Jonah’s invitations convinced him, Ray just used his position as his King and ordered him to pay a visit to the record keeper. So, of course, he was obliged to obey.
Deep down, he was kind of glad that Ray had done it. He finally had a reason to go see the woman. To apologize.
But why was he so scared? So nervous?
Finally reaching the house, he knocked on the door softly, hoping that neither Blanc nor Oliver would hear it. Unfortunately, the door swung open, a familiar small boy glaring at him.
“Hello, Oliver.”
“Hello, Oliver.” He imitated, mocking him. He crossed his arms, still glaring at Luka as if he was some kind of bug. “Are you going to stay there the whole day or tell me what you want? I don’t have all day, y’know.”
“Hm, Ray asked me to drop this.” He raised the box of homemade cupcakes, showing it to Oliver. “And to check if you guys aren’t having any difficulties with...with…”
“With?” Oliver narrowed his eyes, his glare intensifying.
Luka gulped, squeezing the box with his gloved fingers.
Before he could continue, the record keeper appeared, smiling brightly when he saw Luka.
“And here I was wondering what was taking Oliver so long…” He said, patting the boy’s head. Oliver slapped him away, outraged. “Hello, Luka. It’s been a long time, huh?”
“Yes.” He answered, simply.
Blanc’s smile widened.
“Please, enter! It’s almost tea time.”
He did as he was asked, handing the cupcakes to Blanc, who thanked him and left him sitting in front of the tea table. Oliver had gone back to whatever he was doing before, so now he was all alone.
He kept looking around anxiously, looking for a sign of her existence, be it an object of her person itself. Blanc entered the room, carrying a steaming teapot.
“Is earl grey to your taste?” He asked, and Luka nodded quietly. Blanc smiled, filling his cup with the delicious-smelling liquid. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He raised the cup to his lips, eyeing Blanc with expectation. Would he bring her in the room? Would she have tea with them? Would they talk?
Would he finally be able to apologize?
However, instead of Alice, Blanc brought a tray of cookies and the homemade cupcakes that Luka had baked, setting it on the table.
“Oliver, come and join us!” He shouted, and Luka almost protested. Blanc turned his attention back to him, moving his own cup towards his lips. “And how have you been, Luka?”
“Fine.”
“Is everything alright at the army? Have they been treating you well?” Oliver entered the room, sitting on the chair next to Blanc. He glared at Luka, not stopping even when Blanc elbowed him on the arm.
“Yes, everyone’s really kind.” He said, sipping the warm tea. “Ray and Fenrir sent their regards.”
“Oh, how kind of them.” Blanc said, snatching a cookie from the tray and munching on it.
Calmly, Luka set his cup on the saucer. Feeling his heart jumping desperately on his chest, he moved his gaze to Blanc, who quirked both eyebrows, surprised.
“What is it, Lu-
“Blanc-san, how is...How is…” He really wanted to ask it, he really wanted to. But he had no idea what her name was, and calling her Alice sounded so very wrong. “How is she?” He finally asked, his hands trembling on his lap.
Blanc smiled softly, understanding the cause of his nervosism. He stopped chewing on the cookie, setting it beside his cup.
“Do not worry, young lad.” He comforted Luka, Oliver scoffing at his side. “She is much better, that I can assure you.”
“Oh, yes, much better.” Oliver mocked, receiving a side-eyed glare from Blanc.
“Better than when she arrived, Oliver.”
“Right, at least now she talks to us, huh?” He sneered, and Luka winced. The disgust and outrage was clear on his voice. “Now she’s more docile, right? Now she doesn’t act like a freak, so that’s good, huh? Now she can go back to that good for nothing land as if nothing happened, right? Everything will be the same, huh? That’s what you guys have been telling her since it happened, so of course it’s the truth.”
Luka lowered his gaze, ashamed.
Oliver raised himself from his chair, the object falling on the floor.
“Of course that’s bullshit!” He shouted, his fist connecting with the table and making the other two jump. “Of course that’s not true! There’s no way that she can go back to her life. She will be treated like a freak! She won’t be able to work, no one will want to job a legless woman. She has no family up there, so there’s no one that can provide and take care of her! In the end, the only job that she will be able to take is at night-
“Oliver, that’s enough!” Blanc shouted back, also rising from his chair. They glared at each other, Blanc with an intimidating look and Oliver out of breath. “Do you want her to hear you?” He hissed, and Oliver hid his face behind one hand, as if realizing what he had just done.
The two sat back, a horrible silence taking the room.
Luka knew nothing about the Land of Reason. He wasn’t close to Oliver, and he never had a conversation with the woman to know what kind of place they came from. However, a country that didn’t care about their people was not what he expected. Actually, it was far from it.
Blanc sighed, smiling fakely at Luka.
“Luka, please inform the King of Spades that young Charlotte will be staying with us permanently.” He said, sipping the tea that was probably cold by now. “We’ll also inform the King of Hearts about it.”
He nodded, only to show that he had heard what Blanc said.
“Please, don’t make that face.”
He nodded again, placing both hands on the table and rising from the chair.
“Hm, I think I should go.”
“What? So soon? Please, stay a bit more.”
“No...I have some things to attend to. I was just passing by.”
Oliver and Blanc looked at each other, seeing through his lie.
“But...don’t you want to see her?” Blanc asked, and Luka’s heart jumped. “She’s upstairs, napping. But she’s probably awake by now...I’m sure she would enjoy your company.”
He looked back at Blanc, shaking. The man smiled gently, but Luka averted his gaze again, closing his hand into fists.
“No. I really need to go.”
Silence.
“Oh. Okay.” He said, simply, disappointment clear on his voice.
He guided Luka to the door, seeing him off.
Only when he reached the gates of the Black Army that he felt the tears starting to stream through his face. Sirius saw him from a distance, running towards him when he fell on his hands and knees, an animalistic sob leaving his lips.
He really was a coward.
A coward.
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