#point is. I don’t want to do higher level design jobs or anything right now because I am so fucking burnt out and I don’t wanna do gig work

[seilon]

man if I don’t get this hotel event setup job I really don’t know What I should apply for

[anthonybialy]

Oh, That’s Rich

Contrary to popular belief, there are a few forbidden crimes left in America.  Lying about losing an election is the most prominent one even if there’s no law against it.  Don’t you dare try using a gas stove, felon.  And the most fiendish villains get rich.  Nobody is creating much of anything, and the best hope in this worst scenario is that idleness is by design.  Interdictors of commercial activity didn’t do this by accident, right?

The only present offense is earning.  Commit justice by taking lucre from targeted villains who commit the unforgivable sin of making what people desire.  Fair profiteers copy the government and take.

The presumption that the best thieves become CEOs is an excuse for not working hard.  Avoid a life of criminality by half-assing an entry-level job.  This useless planet contains a finite amount of jewels, so don’t even bother competing to pocket them.  The race to solve the treasure map where those who filled their pockets shoved aside the underprivileged makes us all losers, I say to applause.  Items and services that can be created seem like un unfair advantage for those who are good at things.

Contempt for diabolical humans who offer products others buy voluntarily is how Democrats express their ability to distinguish between right and wrong.  Endless jobs created as a byproduct just mean having to go to work instead of waiting for the glorious dole.  Employment is not the goal in itself, which is evil to liberals.  You’re supposed to provide work as a company’s purpose, not pursue icky profits.  Truly benevolent CEOs would pay poets to write sonnets about butterflies instead of completing some mundanely profitable tasks.

You can shop elsewhere.  Democrats seem confused about their options to the point where they confiscate them from everyone else.  The lack of respect for others who are capable of making decisions must be spread by coercion in that archetypical liberal style.

Conglomerate barons possess the audacity to address needs.  Reality is a cruel capitalist that makes us hand over something for stuff, services, or work.  Choose among many for the ultimate in misery, according to enlightened progressive who want to kindly eliminate all choices but the lousiest.

It’s one thing to have nothing to sell and another to presume nobody else does, either.  A lack of empathy comes naturally to those who feel help must be mandated.  Contempt for anyone paid is a natural side effect.  One can only become that wealthy by thievery, we’re assured regarding stores that seem to attract customers without force.

Scowling at a billionaire while presuming there’s a string of unsolved felonies covered up by paying a small percentage in bribes requires presently unfound evidence.  Deciding based on information runs counter to trusting authorities to offer relief.  This is no time to stop genuflecting to Anthony Fauci.

You can get any product you want on your doorstep within a few hours if traffic’s not bad.  Hoping it’s an Amazon truck and not a post office vehicle provides the only apprehension.  Trying to think of any instance when government has provided something of higher quality quicker than a private entity is unfair, as they still must compete until that icky reality is declared illegal.

The actual villains are rich politicians.  There’s no way to get wealthy honestly as a public servant.  It’s no wonder crime has been decriminalized in an era of being ruled by thieves who use the sheen of legality to grift for our benefit.  Making everyone affluent by communalizing wealth surely requires a finder’s fee.

Demonizers of successful enterprise overseers can’t explain why, say, Nancy Pelosi possesses a fortune that seems beyond what she could have saved on a humble representative’s salary. I’m just jealous.  She’s really amazing at picking stocks that she just happens to oversee.  Her career’s just getting started.  Now’s the time to really let her have power for your protection, if your means their and protection means profit.

As for the CEO of this thriving outfit, Joe Biden is the prototypical grifter if you don’t believe he’s capable of serving as an example.  Overreaching to use ensuing power for personal enrichment is the hobby of public warriors who keep you safe from life’s vagaries.  The embodiment of selfless responsibility just happens to include domain over you and everything you might want to decide.

Politicians should be sharing efficiency apartments.  Arguing about when the Murphy bed should be deployed would be a fitting use of debate skills.  Guilting you for not surrendering more treasure to be frittered buying votes would be dropped to the bottom of their priority list as a bonus.

Accusing others of what they do isn’t merely the lamest distraction ever: the simpleton’s technique also informs all of Democratic policy.  Everyone else is as fecklessly reckless, right?  Legal distrust of entrepreneurs who meet the needs of others is the same reason they don’t trust others with guns, presume donating freely to charity is a foreign notion, and can only pile up cash upon maneuvering oneself into a position of public trust.

The baked-in notion that wealth is created by government and greedily hoarded by ruthless industrialists is compensation for uselessness.  Conducting struggle sessions for those who profit through mutual free will has created as much productivity as anticipated.  Very consistent thinkers who think of employment and purchasing as exploitation are busy mercifully redistributing what they deem parceled incorrectly.  Statist henchmen figure you can’t perform any complicated task like choosing or spending.

You can’t dissent, of course, as our very survival depends upon cooperation.  Autonomy would mean using money willingly, which would drive our poor government out of business.  A process that demotivates everyone involved will finally allow us to prosper without working.  Pesky independent humans are fools to decide otherwise.

[peacemaker-ic]

Dream Home Decorator: Gameplay Preview

Peacy playing the game? What is this sorcery!?

I do play the game, not in the traditional and ‘expected’ way, but I do play. With TS3 I bought Ambitions solely for the interior design career, so this was right up my ally. To say I have actually played this career a lot and not done every job type yet should say a lot. 

The career is a gig format that you choose what client to work with from a panel in the job section. Be sure to know the names of the sims in your world, because you have no other clues as to who they are or where they live. You start out with “room renovation” which is dealers choice. Is it open plan? Gotta do it all. Anything you delete will get added to the total amount you can spend, so that is not too much of an issue and i didn’t go over budget on any of my gigs (yet). 

You do need to get to know your clients which job-specific interactions. The best likes/dislikes to get are decor and colour preferences, and these you can convince them to give you other options for. Get “dislikes science” then you can’t seem to reroll that for something more helpful at all. Which sucks and i really hate. When you get the max amount of likes/dislikes for a job and they are all dislikes, it makes the project very challenging to complete. They don’t like it? You may get them returning and you can try again and hopefully get a better reroll. 

I had 1 failed project, and went back to fix it when they came back for it. Luckily they liked it more the second time around. My reputation was intact and can keep my “keen eye for design” badge now. 

I have yet to try room addition and level addition jobs as I didn’t want to cheat my progress so I really can’t comment on the higher level jobs. But you get the basic room renovation, a specific room, level reno, room addition, and level addition. A nice variety of job types and challenges associated with getting a good result. You are also not limited to residential lots, and commercial lots do pop up. 

There is also a reveal portion to the gig, where you can show off your renovation to the clients. I did this a few times, and the new animations added for your sims waiting for the outcome of the job are cute. But after a while the extra step was annoying for me as i wanted to try more jobs, so luckily there is an option not to throw a reveal and you can get the results instantly. Just up my alley. 

There is also a new home decorator network and I highly recommend you watching it for the 2 shows. They are hilarious. Apparently my work was going to be featured on one of the shows, but missed the time slot when it was happening. So i am going to have to see if my save point is before so i can catch it. 

Overall i think this pack delivers on what it sets out, but if you are looking for more then what it is then you will be disappointed. The new likes/dislikes system is nice and will definitely be adding them to my sims in the future, and i do love the idea of making over the horrid Maxis homes for those poor sims. So this is right up my alley, if it doesn’t appeal to everyone. And I am OK with that. If a pack tried to appeal to every unique playstyle in the community, it wouldn’t achieve anything. Not your cup of tea? Skip it or pick it up on sale for the buymode items (I think it’s worth the pack just for those, like Vampires was for the build/buy content). It wont be for everyone and that is ok in my book, because how often do the builders get a pack right up their alley? Not in recent memory from my recollection. 

[jewwyfeesh]

Audition - 1

Writer: Mitsuki

Character(s): Sena Izumi

Translated by: jewwyfeesh

EN proof by: ciel @ fortunebanquet (tumblr)

Telling you the brutal truth now will only help you in the future. With your current attitude, you’ll become a laughing stock sooner or later.

Location: Studio

Izumi: Hellooo, I’m over here.

Aren’t you a little bit too slow? I can’t believe I arrived first and had to wait for you at the venue.

You took so long because you met someone you know along the way? Eh~ but judging from your expression, it doesn’t seem like you’re talking nonsense either…

But no matter how you spin it, you still made me wait. I’m your ‘senpai’, you know? Do you even understand what ‘senpai’ means?

That is to say, senpai have a higher status than their kouhai regardless of the situation at hand.

Whether it’s reasonable or not is another matter. Japan is one of those countries that attaches great importance to seniority.

If you don’t adapt to a rotten environment like this, you’ll easily find yourself ostracized or even targetted by people with ulterior motives.

However, as for the people in this school… should I say that they’re too unconventional, or maybe that they’re too soft-hearted…?

In any case, too many of them have an unreasonably lax attitude when it comes to senpai and kouhai, which may cause you to misunderstand things.

Telling you the brutal truth now will only help you in the future. With your current attitude, you’ll become a laughing stock sooner or later.

…Forget it. There’s no point complaining to you first thing in the morning; you’re clearly exhausted.

Have you brought all of them? Let me see.

Oh, not bad. I wouldn’t have thought that the preparations would be so extensive for such a simple audition.

To think that you were able to get hold of this highly sought-after job, it seems that I did underestimate you a little ♪

“It’s because of the Tenshouin family’s connections”?

No wonder. I did think this job was pretty strange.

Usually, auditions would be held in the office or in a location designated by the other party. On top of that, this “jewelry” theme doesn’t suit a campus setting in the slightest.

The other party is obviously a large company, but they were really casual when it came to the audition venue. I’ve been seriously doubting their professionlism this whole time.

You know, like, “do they have any clue about anything that isn’t finances?”

Collaborating with people who don’t know the ropes is seriously the most inconvenient thing ever.

They don’t even have to know anything; as long as they have money, they can say whatever they want, give out all sorts of weird requests and suggestions… and we just have to sit here and take it, so they’re satisfied.

Hah? Why did I accept this job back then even though I thought it was unreliable?

…Did I just say all of that for nothing?

We’re merely ‘kouhai’ in entertainment circles. We might not even be on the level of ‘kouhai’, but instead just some ‘newbies’ who’ve barely stepped foot into the ring.

We don’t have the right to be choosy about our jobs, you know?

And it’s not like we can use “I think the other party lacks professionalism” as a reason to turn down a job. We can only try to dodge the question with something like “it’s not suitable…”

But if you keep using ambiguous reasons to reject jobs, then eventually there won’t be anyone left who’ll want to work with you.

Other people will think of you as someone with a strange personality and negative work attitude, and they won’t be willing to entrust their work to you.

The jobs you can get will gradually decline, and you enter a vicious cycle till the end of your professional career.

There won’t be anyone who would consider what a newcomer truly thinks or feels. That’s just how reality works.

You don’t have anything to feel dejected about either. That’s how harsh the reality is in the place you’re gonna make your place in.

It’s not like we’re out of options. Thinking of ways to satisfy the other party, but at the same time, creating works that we won’t be ashamed of…

Isn’t it more than enough to work hard for this goal? In the end, this isn’t that difficult; it just requires some flexibility and a go-getter attitude.

Hey, take it easy. At least we don’t have to worry about this job. Because it’s something mediated by Tenshouin, the other party probably isn’t stupid, and the job itself won’t be difficult, either.

Tenshouin… is he planning something again? …But I’m way too busy to care about what he’s thinking.

But it’s not too bad to get a more laid-back job. Good girl, now hand the photography equipment over to me ♪

I need some time to think about the poses I’ll be making in a moment…

Ah—wait! Where are you taking that?

Yes, that green stone in your hand. Give it to me!

Ahhh~ What a beautiful colour…♪

It’s almost exactly the same… this bright and clear colour, the radiant rays that appear after light refracts off of it, and not to mention, it’s the perfect size…!

The same size as what? Huh, can’t you tell?

Are you kidding me? You’re such a disappointment!

I handed Yuu-kun over to you and to Trickstar, but you can’t even seem to grasp one of Yuu-kun’s most outstanding qualities!

Do you still not understand? This gemstone is the exact same shade as Yuu-kun’s eyes!

I had thought only Yuu-kun’s eyes could be of such a splendid colour, so I didn’t expect…

Okay, I’ve decided. I’ll be using this piece as one of the props for the audition.

I’ll get to make all sorts of sweet and happy poses ♪

Hehehe, it’s like I’m taking photos with Yuu-kun… even though Yuu-kun hates taking pictures right now, I can at least have an opportunity like this!

Have the heavens finally decided to reward me for my good deeds?

Eh? You think it’s also pretty similar to the colour of my eyes?

…Are you still half asleep? This colour can only belong to Yuu-kun, so how could I also have the same colour?

But you’re the one who said it, and you do know Yuu-kun pretty well…

So what you’re saying is, Yuu-kun and I are kind of similar?

Hehehe, that’s not so unexpected. He may not admit it right now, but I am Yuu-kun’s ‘onii-chan’ ♪

[thebrightsessions]

Entertainment Spotlight: Ian McQuown

Ian is an LA based actor and producer known for the YouTube comedy group, Extremely Decent, as well as a voice actor in the popular audio dramas: The Bright Sessions, The AM Archives, StarTripper!! & Deck The Halls! His credits inclue American Housewife, Trial & Error, Better Things, and For All Mankind. Ian took the time to answer some questions for us. Check it out:

You’ve worked on multiple podcasts -- what drew you to the medium?

Well, to be honest, Lauren drew me to it because TBS was my first narrative podcast. We met at a Rocky Horror Picture Show show. Anna Lore is our mutual friend and I think Anna is just talented as all get out, so anything she’s involved I want to be in. And, I don’t know, it was just one of those lucky breaks you get where a door opens and takes you to all these cool places you never anticipated.

On podcasting though, I really appreciate how much more possible it is to tell engaging stories without the boundaries of having to afford a set and a camera and insurance and etc etc etc. Like, I grew up with Star Wars, The Matrix, Cowboy Bebop— so when I imagine the stories I like, I’m usually picturing other worlds, space ships, people with super powers and those types of stories used to have a lot higher barrier to entry to make than they do now, which is just awesome.

If you could give a character from The Bright Sessions a spinoff series, who would you choose and what would the series be called?

I mean, no surprises here, but I’d love to see Damien’s early years. And I’d be super clever and call it something like... Damien: The Early Years. I'm dying for that content a little bit actually: Damien, before he became such a bad guy. Maybe a love story that doesn’t work out and leaves him really scarred? Villains so bad they created a villain instead of a victim—  that moment where we see the two roads Damien has to choose between and it totally shreds us when he makes the choice we all know he’s going to make, I mean, come ON you can see that, right? It’d be like the Star Wars prequels but without all the youngling killing and “NOOOOOOOO”’s and I want it.

Can you share a fun story or anecdote from the making of The Bright Sessions?

Haha, ok well it’s not really anything of note BUT: I remember Lauren had this area rug in her room, which as you probably know is where we would record, and it was this really nice, I think, red sort of floral rug that took up pretty much all the floor space because it was covering up the older apartment rug-floor underneath it. And it was, as I said, really cool, except it wasn’t a rug on a wood floor, right? It was a rug on a rug so it was a bit taller than the people who designed the room had planned for— the result of which was that you’d walk in and the room had this really awesome little vibe with this cute rug, and it was all very cozy, unless you looked directly behind you at the corner where the door had just spent ages scraping the surface of it, catching the corner, tearing little pieces out. And I may be getting apocryphal at this point, but I feel like by the time I had started coming around Lauren had straight up duct taped it to the floor, which really didn’t help the problem. And, I don’t know—again it’s not really anything momentous—but I just remember giving Lauren a particular amount of shit about it one day and us all having a really good laugh. And I really love that— there are jobs where you show up, keep your head down, do your work and leave, but then there are jobs like The Bright Sessions where you all get to become friends, and even if you don’t see each other for a while you sort of just get to pick up where you left off. And then those jobs turn into other jobs and you get to keep hanging out with your friends and peers and just making stuff you like— I’m a big fan of that.

If your life was a choose your own adventure, what decisions would viewers have to make on an average day?

OKAY, you wake up...

Water your garden before it gets to be 110 today, you cannot skip this step. You may however:

A) Stay out in the garden for longer if you get inspired and check if the tomatoes and peppers are ripe for picking.

Great! Now let’s make breakfast:

A) Make eggs, toast, fried tomatoes, and hash browns? 

B) Make (A) But also with Bacon? 

C) Make a smoothie?

D) There’s no time today, run to Whole Foods and get their incredibly priced $6 Egg, Bacon Cheese Breakfast burrito.

Awesome! You’ve eaten and now you can think. What work do you have to do?

A) Prep your audition, dummy! It’s due this afternoon, go fix your hair. 

B) You have a zoom meeting with actor friends at 11 to play around with some new material, put on a hat.

C) There is nothing you have to work on so stare at your computer and wonder if there’s new project you could be working on. Try to find that project, leave your hair as it.

Wow! You really had a great (insert previous choice here), let’s get you a coffee and take a TV break. What should we watch?!

A) That new show you haven’t seen yet because you need to watch everything so you know how to work on it should you get an audition for it.

B) Harley Quinn (your favorite new cartoon).

C) Teenage Bounty Hunters.

D) Farscape.

E) Nope, you just got an audition for tomorrow, everything is off the table, start working on it (Level Complete).

Lunch Time!!!

A) Turkey sandwich with pickles from the garden?

B) Trader Joe’s Margherita Pizza with basil and peppers from the garden?

C) Are we going to start another loaf of sourdough you basic mf?

D) Yes we probably are, but also (A) and (B).

Cool! I’ve eaten lunch. Now what?

A) You haven’t finished that work from this morning. Riiiight.

B)…More Harley Quinn…?

C) Let’s make pasta from scratch!

D) Let’s make ribs! From…ribs!

F) You just got an audition for tomorrow, everything is off the table, start working on it. (Level Complete).

Bangarang! You probably chose to start cooking dinner immediately after eating lunch. You ate it (and it rocked), what now?

A) You just got an audition for tomorrow, everything is off the table, start working on it. (Level Complete)

B) DnD with squad.

C) Go on a run, dude— you’re getting a Jaba chin….

D) Bring on the chin! Let’s watch TV until 2am! Here are your options:

A) Harley Quinn (your new favorite cartoon)

B) Teenage Bounty Hunters

C) Farscape

D) Put The Office on in the background and clean your house.

Level Complete.

As you can see I’m a very food-focused person. Also, I’m going to be real, that is truly what most of my days look like and I’m low-key a little mortified that ’taking a shower’ wasn’t a game option... 

Can you share your favorite piece of Bright Sessions / AM Archives fan art?

I love all the fan art that people make for my characters but this one from Franartz has always been really special to me. It’s so GQ, I just love it — and some of my favorite early AG moments are with Damien, who looks a little like he stepped out of a Gorrilaz album here— big fan. I’m a little obsessed with fan art actually, I save everything I come across— there’s a freckled red-headed series of Owen by TheFigureInTheCorner that makes me really happy. Seeing that my work has inspired someone else to make something of their own is really what’s up, you know? It makes me think about all the art and entertainment that has touched me over the years and I get a lot of joy from being a part of that cycle.

Thanks for taking the time, Ian! Give I Can Die When I'm Done a relisten right here.

[babyybitchhh]

Shigaraki x Reader 18+

Title: Crybaby

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 12,290

Warnings: I'll be honest and say I'm not entirely sure how to tag some of this so proceed with caution. Infantilization, forced age regression, mental age regression, non consensual regression, ageplay, mentions of baby bottles and pacifiers, coercion, general noncon and dubcon, diddling, vaginal fingering, involuntary urination, wetting, mention of forced third party bathing, diapers, penis in vagina sex, unprotected sex, creampie, excessive use of 'Tomu-nii', mention of sex slaves, a brief but explicitly violent death mention towards the start, overall very questionable decisions from both me and Shigaraki

A/N: I will not be taking any questions at this time, thank you.

( @tomurasprincess)

♥♥♥♥

There was a fine line between a gift and a burden.

A new video game, for example, is something people were generally happy to receive and there was no obligation to slave over it at all hours of the day, unless you wanted to. A puppy, on the other hand, came with a certain amount of responsibility that couldn’t be side lined until Tomura decided to deal with it. There was no save button, no coming back to it later. He had to be vigilant to some degree, mindful of the life that was now in his hands, and that wasn’t something he was accustomed to by any stretch of the imagination. He couldn’t stand it. Didn’t even really possess the vernacular needed to describe exactly how much it pissed him off that he was suddenly expected to take care of someone - something else.

It was bullshit.

Standing over your prone form sprawled out on the cluttered floor he thinks, not for the first time, about ending it right here and now. It would be easy, surely. One touch of his hand and you’d be gone. Disintegrated to mere dust and nothing more than a vague, unpleasant memory in the back of his mind. You deserved it by simple virtue of being such a damn inconvenience but, just as every other time, he hesitates.

Not because you don’t even realize the danger you’re in as you innocently kick your legs back and forth in the air, all your wide eyed, dopey attention locked on the tv screen. Tomura is not so soft as to consider a sneak attack you don’t even see coming an insult to his pride. He would’ve been showing you mercy, actually, because if he didn’t fear upsetting All for One so much he’d have preferred to wrap his hands around your scrawny little neck instead. Give you a good throttle or two. Squeeze until his knuckles were a stark white against your purpling blue skin. He could almost envision what you would look like, all bloated and full of blood from burst capillaries and reddened eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

His cock stirs in his pants and his hatred for you grows with it. He couldn’t stand you or what you represented, a sudden addition to his life that he never asked for but couldn’t get rid of, and the fact he was getting stiff from his morbid fantasies was certainly your fault too. Everything was your fault. Right down to the most minor of inconveniences, you were to blame - even if it happened before you were dropped into his lap with all the to-do of a posh, overly indulgent birthday present. It was you. You, you, you, you you you youyouyouyouyou -

“Tomu-nii?”

With a jolt, he snaps out of it. The haze lifts and his blown out eyes focus in on your tubby little face, now turned over your shoulder to glance back at him. Tomura isn’t sure when you realized he was looming over you like some horrible, sickly wraith and he knows even less how it is that you show no fear towards him. Were you really so stupid that you couldn’t sense his desire to not only kill you but make you suffer? So blind that you didn’t see the way his bony hands fisted at his sides with a purpose and not in idle reflex?

No. It wasn’t that you were as unintelligent as a brain dead sheep happily trotting off to slaughter. Rather, it’s because that was what All for One had designed you to be.

Tomura wouldn’t claim to understand how, exactly, his mentor had gotten these results but he knows enough to recognize the signs. You’d been stripped of everything in a way that far exceeded mere surface level nudity. All for One had gone even deeper than that, past flesh and bone and right into the heart of what made you you. The brain.

He had no doubt that a quirk had been used, the specifics of which he couldn’t even begin to fathom, but the tinkering and rewiring had done its job exceedingly well, in fact. While your body was that of a young adult woman, early to mid 20’s if he had to wager a guess, your mind was something like that of a toddlers. You could speak just fine but the enunciation was sloppy, your words childish and limited to small, easily communicable sentences. You picked up on things surprisingly fast, perhaps even a little too well if the way he’d heard you let out a soft, half hearted ‘fuck’ earlier was anything to go by. But you slipped up just as easily and he was getting real tired of making sure you went and sat on the toilet instead of pissing all over his (no doubt already smelly) carpet. Living in his own mess was one thing. Living in someone else’s was another matter entirely.

Nothing about this was in error, though. You were exactly what All for One intended for you to be - little more than an animal for him to look after but with arguably higher stakes involved - and he’d had enough. It’d only been a single day, a full 24 hours since you were dropped into his room, and he was already at the end of his patience.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like that stupid cartoon I put on for you?”

You actually had the audacity to pout at him, jutting your lower lip out and puffing your cheeks as if that was supposed to make him feel anything other than an even stronger urge to take you out of this world. “S’not that. Mm’ just bored. You’re no fun.”

Tomura very nearly lunges at you with outstretched hands, All for One be damned, but your next words stop him in his tracks.

“I thought maybe you were coming to play with me.”

Play with you? He would’ve laughed if only he could find even a sliver of real humor in this situation. This was a joke, if not because of the absurdity of it all then at least because he wanted to play with you alright. He wanted to play a game that started with you screaming in shrill terror and ended with a chilly body laid out on his bedroom floor. That sounded like more fun than a barrel of kittens.

He stills himself, though, and snobbishly peers at you down the length of his nose. “I don’t play games with brats. Sorry.”

That only makes you pout even more. “Meanie.”

“Watch your fucking cartoon,” Tomura grits out through gnashing, angry teeth, unreasonably irritated by your persistent refusal to cooperate. “Before I make you.”

He isn’t even really sure if that threat makes any sense at this point, so thrown off by your mere presence in what should’ve been his space that he can barely make heads or tails of his own thoughts anymore. But the dramatic way you squawk in displeasure and throw yourself out flat on the floor placates him somewhat. You were easy to rile up, and he would have been a boldfaced liar if he’d said he didn’t get a kick out of that. Tomura had never felt quite so cruel, so much like an adolescent bully looking to make his problems someone else’s as when he was working you up into a proper fit.

It was easily the most enjoyable aspect of this arrangement so far, and he watches with nothing short of smug satisfaction as you pound your hands on the floor in pent up frustration. It was laughably easy to picture what they’d look like, well groomed after a manicure and with a fresh coat of polish on the nails. You looked like you’d probably been the sort of woman who would go with reds. Fierce and bold, as much a statement as your pretty face, which was currently scrunched up and pressed tight against the carpet in front of his tv. Those same hands were plain and unadorned now, squeezed into tight little fists that were about as harmless as they could get. Tomura probably would’ve considered a turtle more of a pressing threat than you right now.

“Crybaby.” He spits the word out like it’s poison. “Does that make you feel better? Huh? Throwing a tantrum just because you’re not getting your way?”

“Mm’ not a crybaby!” You scream into the carpet. The contrast between your plushy figure and your behavior is disturbing on some very real, intrinsic level and that only seems to add fuel to his fire.

“Hah! That’s funny. You certainly look like one, you know that? What would you even think of yourself if you were in your right mind, I wonder.”

“Mm’ not!” Your incessant screeching rises in pitch and Tomura is almost positive you aren’t even really hearing him anymore, but he decides he doesn’t care.

“Embarrassing. Maybe I should have Kurogiri bring me a bottle since you want to act like a baby so much. Or would you like a pacifier instead? Hmm? Would that make you feel better, princess?”

“Nooooo!”

Your feet start kicking the air again, violently rather than in placid distraction, and the motion draws Tomura’s gaze to the seat of your onesie. Pink and humiliatingly infantile for a grown woman to be wearing, he’d looked at it with nothing short of contempt up until now. But the (no doubt exhausting) flex of your legs bunches the loose cotton, making it gather around your upturned ass and in turn emphasizes the convenient button flap across the back. Now that he’s actually looking at it, he’s almost positive it was wide enough to expose your entire rear to the world with little more than a quick snap of his fingers. Maybe even wide enough to expose other things too …

Tomura jolts with all the force of a sudden electric shock when you cry out his name or, rather, the ridiculous moniker you’d given him. He’d like to know who’d planted that particular seed in your head - if it was All for One’s idea of a twisted joke or if Kurogiri had really thought being called niichan by a woman who may or may not actually be older than him would make Tomura feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It doesn’t exactly matter now, though, because the wet quality of your voice makes his cock spring up in his pants. He’s mildly horrified with himself, far more comfortable with his earlier fantasies of killing you, but there’s no helping it anymore. Not when you say his name like that. Not when the tears he’d initially thought were crocodilian at best were so thick and heavy in your throat that the syllables come out garbled and almost incomprehensible.

He’s not sure what he intends to do, but he shuffles closer.

You’ve started to tire out now and the kicking slows before stopping all together. He watches your ankles cross over one another in the air, as if you were trying to self soothe on some level by physically keeping yourself together, but it doesn’t seem to do much in the way of good. Your shoulders were still trembling with the lingering traces of your fit, and he can hear you mewling into the abrasive carpet like a wounded animal. It was clear that you were hurting because of him - and not just as a result of his teasing. After the complete and utter deconstruction of your mind, you were probably scared without even really knowing why. Confused, but too lost in the quirk induced stupor that had left you in this sorry state to seek out answers.

He hadn’t bothered to test this theory yet, but Tomura would have been willing to bet good money that All for One left you with very little inside that thick skull of yours. It just made sense, after all. For what good was a doll with memories of her past life? What would he have possibly gotten out of playing house with someone who fought him every step of the way, either out of embarrassment or repulsion towards him as a person?

No. You were a blank slate in the strictest sense. His to mold however he deemed fit and with no recollection of who you were, who you’d been or even who you’d wanted to be, he was free to do whatever he damn well pleased.

There was still raging contempt for you burning within his chest, certainly. You were an annoying, unnecessary burden on him and there was no getting around the fact that he still wanted you gone. But the spark igniting his gut is even stronger and, for better or worse, it momentarily overrides his better judgement.

So he sinks down onto his knees, directly behind you, and reaches out to tentatively palm the swell of your ass. Pinky held away, so as not to disintegrate you, which surprises him somewhat given how vivid his fantasies of killing you had been. He doesn’t get to linger on that for very long though, because you grow still at his touch and your pathetic sniveling quiets to a soft, almost hopeful sniffle. Tomura bites back a crude snort, just barely managing to catch himself before he backpedals and hisses another insult at you. He could probably take what he wanted with any given method, he didn’t have to be nice about it, but somehow the alternative just felt wrong. Physically you were an adult, but with the mental state of a child it felt a bit like taking advantage of an innocent and he wasn’t a complete monster.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, the word foreign on his tongue. “I shouldn’t have been so mean. Will you forgive me?”

You squirm and push your face further into the carpet. “Mhm.”

He doesn’t smile. But he does take that as an incentive to push forward, and he starts caressing your backside with slow, cautious circles. “Do you really want me to play with you that bad?”

“Mhm.”

Hesitating, Tomura considers his next words very carefully. “Fine. I’ll play with you. But I get to choose the game.”

You don’t immediately respond and he starts to wonder if he’d made a mistake. Overestimated his ability to be diplomatic and conscientious - which wouldn’t exactly have come as a surprise. But then you shift on the floor, tension draining from your body as you turn your head so you aren’t suffocating in the carpet anymore. “Okay.”

His brows lift in surprise only to then knit together. It was that easy? He’s not so sure he trusts it but, dropping his gaze back down to your ass, he gives the doughy soft flesh an experimental squeeze. Your only response is a soft, faltering sigh that seems to help you relax more. This, too, seems a little too good to be true but he keeps going anyway.

When a few minutes of kneading your defenseless backside does nothing to upset you, Tomura starts to get bolder. He slowly brings his opposite hand forward and latches onto the other cheek with four fingers, massaging both sides in tandem. He’d had the unfortunate luck of seeing your bare ass late the previous evening, after you’d emptied your bladder all over the blanket he’d tossed you to sleep on which had resulted in an aggressively administered bath for you and a frustrated headache for him. He hadn’t paid too much attention at the time, far too angry to be horny, but he knew enough to realize that you were unexpectedly voluptuous under that onesie.

The garment itself was so oversized it hid even the smallest hint of the womanly figure underneath. He probably would’ve forgotten all about it, pushed to the back of his mind in favor of more pressing matters (like getting rid of you) but now that he’s got his hands on your butt it’s all he can think about. The way your full tits jiggled when he’d non too gently manhandled you into the tub. The frustratingly cute lower belly pouch that bulged when you sat down, crying, on the porcelain surface. The way your thighs molded to whatever position he’d yanked them in so he could hose you off like a filthy stray. He’d actively avoided looking at what was between your legs, in fear of what he’d see as much as stubborn refusal, but looking back on it now he isn’t sure how he hadn’t given in to temptation.

Now, however, he was suddenly more interested than ever in finding out what your pussy looked like and, hooking his long index fingers into the flap, he starts to unlatch it one button at a time.

You make no move to stop him. Don’t even protest or question what he’s doing. It’s almost as if just having his attention on you is enough, and Tomura’s mouth pulls back in a sneer at the mere thought. You were so damn stupid for trusting him like this, completely oblivious or uncaring about what his intentions were. He could be as violent with you as he wanted. He could erase you from this existence with the briefest touch. But you just lay there, your shoulders slowly rising and falling with each even breath you draw, and he can’t decide if that feeling clawing at the back of his throat is hatred or guilt.

But there’s no real reason to stop now, so he carefully peels back the flap of fabric once he’s got it completely unfastened. Bare skin greets him, a perfectly exposed strip of swelling flesh that seems all the more enticing with pink cotton framing it so nicely. He pauses long enough to lick his dry, cracked lips. The weight of his stiff cock strains against the inside of his zipper, twitching eagerly when he reaches out to hesitantly touch your back side again.

The sensation of a real, living person under his fingertips makes his breath come a little faster. Still, you don’t move though and he picks up right where he left off, roughly groping your ass cheeks with barely contained excitement until he gets so vigorous that you whimper.

“Shh. I’ll try not to be so rough.” Tomura shushes you, throaty and barely more than a murmur.

You settle back into place, thankfully, and he takes that chance to spread your cheeks open. He gets a brief glimpse of the puckered hole hidden inside, white hot static racing straight to his groin, and he lets out a rumbling groan. His fingers squeeze into flesh again and he pulls, baring you entirely to his voracious eyes. The tight muscle twitches, winking at him, and his attention drops to the smallest satiny peak of your slit. He can just barely see it, mostly hidden behind the pooling fabric bunched under the swell of your ass, but it’s more than enough to make him feel dizzy.

“Shit,” he sounds winded even to his own ears. “You’ve got such a nice body.”

To his surprise, you actually perk up at that. “Really?”

Tomura almost snaps at you on impulse, so irritated by the sound of your voice that he nearly forgets what he’s trying to do. Quelling himself, though, he tugs at the bottom half of your onesie until he can see the plushy soft lips of your pussy. You look so inviting, so warm and real he can hardly even stand it.

“Really.” He croaks. “How old are you again?”

You seem to think about that. “Mm, I dunno’!”

He frowns. Contemplates that for a long beat. But the coarse hair curling around your slit seems answer enough, for him at least. You weren’t actually a child. You just sounded like one, acted like one, dressed like one. That wasn’t what was getting him so painfully hard though. It was the fact you were a woman, physically, and he’d never gotten to see one up close and personal like this before. Why hadn’t All for One just given him a proper sex slave instead of one that threw tantrums and cried at the drop of a dime? Was this really what his mentor had intended for him to do with you?

“Tomu-nii?”

Drawing a sharp breath, he brings his attention up to bark at you to be quiet but the words catch when he finds you looking at him over your shoulder. He can feel his cheeks starting to warm, suddenly embarrassed.

“What?”

“Why’re you looking at me like that?”

He flounders for a moment. Then, awkwardly clearing his throat, he decides to fall back on his original excuse. “This is the game I mentioned earlier. You wanted to play, right?”

You nod your head, but you don’t look entirely certain about that. “I do but … aren’t games s’posed to be fun? This is boring!”

His mouth presses into a thin line. It hadn’t occurred to him that you might not be content to just idly sit by while he molested your slutty little body, but if it was fun you wanted then he could certainly give you that. “This was just the warm up. Roll over and I’ll show you how to play.”

The way your eyes light up almost makes him regret this decision. It’s too late though, you’re already twisting over on to your back with your elbows braced on the carpet so you can stare up at him. Stupid and expectant.

He clicks his tongue.

Reaching out to grab your wide set hips with only eight of his fingers, he inelegantly drags you closer so that you were nicely slotted between his knees. Your legs curl up as you regard him with nothing short of intense curiosity, lips parting in a silent ‘o’ that very nearly sends him over the edge. You were too pretty for your own good. Much too beautiful to be wearing a pink onesie and acting like a baby. This was such a waste, and he almost feels bad for what All for One did to you.

But he shrugs it off, forcefully, and his delicately poised hands descend on your zipper. Zrrrrrt, straight down the length of your body. It stops directly above your crotch and he reaches up to reverently push the cotton out to the sides and expose the rest of you.

Your tits were even better than he’d initially thought. They were full and heavy, dotted with the most perfect little buds for nipples. Soft and smooth. Tomura’s mouth waters in anticipation and he doesn’t realize how roughly he’s jerking your arms out of the sleeves until you wail dramatically that it hurts.

He’d like to tell you what really hurts is his cock, unbearably hard and trapped inside his pants, but he refrains. Instead, he huffs out an insincere apology and keeps on yanking. He can’t get you undressed fast enough, mesmerized by the way your breasts jiggle and bounce every time he pulls on you. There’s something inherently wrong about this, he knows. It’s so damn obvious you’re not right in the head, that you aren’t of sound enough mind to even understand what he’s doing to you, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you were so willing and pliant under his shaking hands.

Finally managing to wrest the blasted onesie off your kicking feet, Tomura tosses it off to the side and he eagerly sets his sights on your naked body. You should have looked seductive and coy, spread out in front of him with a devious smile curling artfully painted lips as you invite him to have his way with you. Instead, you fitfully squirm, neither seductive nor shy. It’s clear that you have no sense of shame, your artificially infantile brain completely void of the concept and even less aware of how inappropriate any of this was. You just keep looking at him, waiting for the explanation he’d promised to give you.

Oh. That’s right. The game he kept talking about. Perhaps he could still salvage this after all.

“The rules are simple,” he says slowly, scrambling to put together a decent excuse to keep going. “I’ll touch you for a little bit and if I can make you feel good then I win. After that, it’ll be your turn. If you make me feel good, you’ll win. Understand?”

Your expression pinches in confusion. “So we both win?”

“Only if we make each other feel good. What’s wrong? You don’t want to play with me anymore?”

Much to his relief, you quickly bob your head. “I do! Please play with me, Tomu-nii!”

The way his cock jolts at that makes his entire body ache. It’s much too late to turn back now, he was well past the point of salvation, and he haltingly drags his attention down to your chest. Your petite nipples had stiffened in the cool air but it’s as if you don’t even notice. Wasn’t that something a grown woman would be conscious of? He thinks so, or at least he’s pretty sure it is. Apparently it isn’t the sort of thing a dumb baby brain even registers, though, and he reaches out to curiously flick at one.

You gasp, eyes widening slightly. Misplaced hope sears his veins and he watches you intently, holding his breath, but you don’t seem to understand what it is you’re feeling. Your brows furrow as you glance down at yourself and bring a hand up to cover your nipple.

“Oww …”

That certainly wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. Or at least it wasn’t the sort of reaction Pornhub had taught him to expect, but it was still something.

“Baby.” He grumbles, reaching for the opposite tit.

“Mm’not!”

“Are too. Didn’t that feel good?”

“No!”

“Then you’re winning, aren’t you?”

Confusion marches across your face for a moment before understanding dawns. You look quite pleased now as you track the movement of his hand as he carefully pinches your puckered nipple between thumb and forefinger, gently rolling it between the pads. He doesn’t get an immediate reaction out of you but the longer he does it the more your lips start to purse. It’s as if you were holding back, determined not to show him that you might be enjoying it and risk losing the game, but it’s enough to embolden him.

His ministrations pick up and he gives your delicate little teat a mild twist. There’s no malice or cruelty behind the action. He just wants to see what you’ll do. And you don’t disappoint, the way you jump and your mouth flies open as if to squawk making his stomach clench with something perverse. You catch yourself at the last second though, teeth clacking together as your gaze flits up at him to see if he’s looking.

He is, of course, and you forcibly swallow the sound you’d almost let out. Tomura is a bit disappointed, sure. He’d wanted to hear how pretty you’d moan for him but there were still plenty of other chances for him to coerce at least one out of you.

Hunching over your prone body, he brings his other hand up to latch onto the opposite nipple, the one he’d previously flicked. You wince at the contact but make no move to stop him, biting down on your lower lip to keep quiet as you watch him play with your fat tits in petulant silence. It was ass backwards in so many ways. He’d thought, despite everything, his first time with a girl would be somewhat normal. Maybe not picture perfect or all that good when everything was said and done, but at least relatively mundane. This was the farthest thing from that though. He couldn’t conceive of a more wildly abnormal scenario even if he’d tried, nor did he recall ever seeing any porn with this hyper specific set up. But there was still some sick, twisted part of him that was deriving pleasure from this decidedly unorthodox encounter with the opposite sex, and that feeling only grows exponentially the more he keeps going.

Kneading, pinching, squeezing, tugging. He doesn’t let up until your nipples are flushed dark and straining hard, the glistening hint of tears at the corners of your eyes telling him beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was getting somewhere. The urge to call you a crybaby swells in his chest again but he doesn’t want to risk another tantrum. He wasn’t so sure his cock could handle it, particularly not when he’d positioned himself over you in such a way that one solid kick would put him out of commission for the foreseeable future. No, this was a delicate situation that required the utmost care on his part and, gathering his nerves, he swoops down to cover one of the stiff buds with his mouth.

The heated gasp that bursts out of you in a great woosh has him groaning into the meaty swell of your tit. You shudder underneath him, involuntarily twitching as he traces your areola with the tip of his tongue and laves it in warm, wet attention. He can tell that you’re not sure what to do so he waits with bated breath, reveling in the fleshy nub pinched between his lips. There was no reason for him not to squeeze every last drop of enjoyment he could get out of this while he could, after all - but then your hands find his hair, threading into wavy locks, and he throbs for you.

“Tomu-nii …”

He practically sinks into you, damn near suffocating himself in the plushy swell of your breast. His mouth opens wide and sucks more of you past his lips, suckling enthusiastically just like the infant you were programmed to be. This particular role reversal doesn’t even seem to register in your mind though and he seethes when you tug at his hair, trying to pull him off.

“St-aaahp …. I don’t like it!”

Tomura comes up off you with a wet gasp. “Bullshit.” He practically growls, narrowing his eyes at your dopey, flustered expression.

“It’s true! I don’t!”

“Oh? Should we check then?”

Your face scrunches and you draw a breath to question him, but he doesn’t give you the chance. Going back up on his knees, he plants one hand against the meat of your inner thigh and shoves it wide. His other darts between your legs before you can react, spindly digits finding your bare cunt and prodding at your folds with rough fingertips. You jolt at the contact but it’s too late. He barely has to touch you to feel the slick oozing out of you and he lets loose a harsh bark of laughter.

“My ass. You’re fucking soaked. You shouldn’t lie, you know.”

“I didn’t!” You gasp, clearly offended by the insinuation. “You’re just a fucking meanie!”

That gives him pause.

Glancing up at your face, Tomura regards you carefully as he tries to figure out his next move. On one hand it was his own fault for saying that word around you so much and it’s not like it was any of his business what you did or didn’t say, but on the other … there was something uncomfortable about hearing that come out of your mouth with such a childish inflection. It lacked any and all bite, not even a hint of impotent aggression to be found. You were just parroting him, that’s all, but for whatever reason he didn’t really appreciate it.

“Don’t say that.” He huffs, turning his attention back to your pussy.

Tomura had wanted to leave it at that, but of course you have to fight him every step of the way.

“Why not?” You ask rather flippantly.

“Because i said so. If you want to get smart, be my guest. I know how to handle bratty little girls like you.”

He’s a bit surprised when that actually shuts you up. Apparently, he was starting to get the hang of this but he still has to sneak a quick peek at you just to make sure. The fact you actually look contemplative, as if you were turning that over in your empty head, almost makes him laugh.

“Do you still want to play?” God, he sorely hoped you did.

You hesitate though, unwilling to give your acquiescence just like that. “When is it my turn?” You ask warily.

“Soon. I’ve got one more chance to make you feel good and then you can try.”

“Mmm … okay. But I’m not gonna’ lose!”

He’s almost certain you would have already lost if you weren’t such a petulant little thing, but he keeps that to himself. Instead, he once again turns his attention to the spot between your legs. Your puffy slit was noticeably wet, the faint sheen of fluid glistening slightly in the overhead light, and he takes a moment to gently part the curls there. Just as he’d thought. Damp to the touch and only getting wetter. He really was going to have to talk to you about lying especially since, in this particular context, you were cheating. This was a far cry from his video games but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

Swallowing his reprimand for the time being, though, Tomura carefully presses two fingers into the doughy softness of your labia and spreads them apart. He can see now that you were practically drenched in slick arousal, thin threads of discharge stretching across your petal soft folds before snapping. He gulps down his nerves. You really did have the prettiest pussy he’d ever seen and the fact it was all his for the taking very nearly had him creaming in his pants right then and there. It was almost obscene how bad he wanted to fuck your tampered brains out but he didn’t want to scare you into noncompliance. He wasn’t going to fight for this if he didn’t have to.

Slowly, so as not to startle you, he brings his other hand close and prods at where he thinks your clit should be. He’d certainly seen them in enough triple X videos to have some idea of where to look, but when all you do is let out a soft sigh he knows he’s mistaken.

His teeth gnash in high strung irritation as he walks his finger lower and then higher, feeling a bit like a blind fool searching for buried treasure. There were so many fleshy ridges and folds that he couldn’t pinpoint the right spot from memory alone, so he has to take his time feeling around instead. He thinks he’s found it for a split second when you shift underneath him, but then he realizes you were simply getting fussy - no doubt bored with all his incessant pawing - and that only angers him further. It shouldn’t have been this damn hard to find!

Impatient now, Tomura roughly swipes his finger up the length of your slit and surprise washes over him when you jolt as if he’d electrocuted you. Your head comes up off the rug and you stare at him, wide eyed, but it was much too late. He’d finally gotten the reaction out of you that he’d been hoping for, and he leans into it with nothing short of devilish delight.

Knowing precisely where to look helps a great deal and it immediately occurs to him that the reason he’d struggled so much is because your clit was still hidden behind its protective hood. But he’s got the advantage now, and he ever so carefully pinches at satiny soft skin until he can ease it back and expose the sensitive little bud nestled inside. You whimper slightly as he does it, squirming awkwardly on your back as if you could instinctively sense that you might be in a bit of trouble now. It was kind of cute, if he was being totally honest.

“I don’t think I like this game …”

“You will. Trust me.”

Clearly not believing him, you start to open your mouth to complain but he stops you cold with a quick flick of his finger. Your engorged clit jostles against the indelicate contact and you blurt out such a startled sound that he actually glances up to make sure you’re okay. Unsurprisingly, you look a little more flustered now and the panic edging your expression is almost enough to make him reconsider this.

Almost, but not quite.

“What’s the matter?” He goads, dropping his gaze back down to your pussy again. “I thought you didn’t like it.”

“I … I don’t …”

“Really? I’m not sure I believe that.”

He does it again, gentler this time. Just a brief tap against the meaty little nub, but it’s enough to make you twitch and try to close your legs from him. Tomura won’t let you back out so easily though and he shifts even closer so he can wedge himself between your thighs to keep them spread. You issue a frustrated, huffy sound that he could only describe as babyish as you try to push up on your elbows, no doubt intending to scuttle away from him. He had to give you credit for being so hard headed even in this infantile state but he was far too invested to quit now.

Letting up his hold on your labia, Tomura directs his fingers lower and wedges three of them into your slit. You freeze, momentarily stunned, and he takes that split second opportunity to feel around for your entrance. It’s not hard to find. Much easier than your clit, at any rate, and he wastes no time wriggling a long digit up inside your body. The penetration is smooth, your guts such a slippery mess that it almost startles him.

You really were a liar.

He suddenly realizes he’s panting. At the same time, he realizes that you don’t appear to be breathing at all. Your expression is about as dumbfounded as it could be, and he dully watches the way you sway in your half upright position. Shellshocked would probably be an appropriate descriptor, and he wets his lips in anticipation.

“Well? Do you like it?”

Your legs flex around his arms and you shake your head. “Nuh … no …”

“If you don’t stop lying to me,” he grumbles. “I’m going to get mad.”

You stiffen, clearly drawing yourself up to challenge that statement just like he’d known you would. It was embarrassing how predictable you could be.

He’s had just about enough of this back and forth though, and he roughly curls his finger upward in search of the spot that would finally shut you up for good. But his efforts only make you more fussy and his patience quickly unravels when you try to twist away from him, wailing in displeasure. He hated that sound and, if you weren’t careful, he’d go right back to hating you too

Grunting, Tomura abandons your clit in favor of latching his hand onto the swell of your thigh and he digs his blunt nails in to keep you still. You actually have the audacity to kick out at him but he puts a stop to that quickly enough by shoving a second finger into your sticky cunt. Just like the first time, it makes you hesitate and he watches your warbling mouth drop open in what he thinks might be pleasure. It’s frustratingly hard to tell with you but, having no other choice, he decides to take it at face value.

Your pussy clicks loudly when he starts pumping into you straight down to the knuckle, the wet squelch almost deafening in his ears. It’s unreasonably hot though, his mind running a mile a minute as he tries to commit every little detail to memory. The way your face screws up with a stuttering gasp, the way you squeeze your eyes shut and try to brace against the pressure of his digits driving into you again and again. The way you moan, even when you try not to, is particularly enticing, especially since it’s just as pretty as he’d hoped it would be. The way your legs shake and you threaten to double over, the way he can see you clutching the carpet in a death grip, the way you just seem to get even wetter for him. There was too much to take in all at once but it was also far too erotic to look away from. He really was going to cream his pants at this rate.

Somehow, your honest reaction appears to make up for all the trouble you’d given him up until now and Tomura can feel the wet spot bleeding through his boxer briefs start to grow. He was positive he’d never been harder in all his life. Animalistic and practically slobbering like a rabid dog, he hunches further over your quaking body and pistons into your cunt so vigorously his arm starts to ache. You were wailing for him to stop, crying out for Tomu-nii, Tomu-nii, Tomu-nii, but he doesn’t even slow down. He can’t.

Your cunt just keeps sucking him in deeper on every plunge, gummy walls pulsating around his no doubt pruning fingers so enthusiastically that he’s sure you’re going to cum. He can practically taste it. Tomura wasn't going to stop until you did and, realizing he doesn’t have to hold onto you any longer, he reaches out to roughly shove you down on your back again.

“Are you going to cream for me, princess? Huh?” He grits out through savagely bared teeth. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

“No! Please, Tomu-nii … it hurts!”

Even in the heat of the moment he can’t stop himself from clicking his tongue in irritation. “No it doesn’t, you big baby. You love this. I know you do. I can see it written all over your stupid, pretty face. Go on. Tell me exactly how good you feel. Do it!”

Wailing, you peer up at him through heavy lashes with a look so imploring it very nearly gives him pause. “I - I can’t! I’m … Tomu-nii, I’m gonna’ … I’m gonna’ pee!”

“No you aren’t. That just means your clo - -“

Tomura cuts himself off when you do exactly that. He’s almost too stunned to react and all he can do is watch as the steady stream of urine bursts out of you before dribbling down his wrist to soak into the carpet underneath. It’s only now, when you’re pissing all over yourself as well as him, that he finally has the decency to slow his pumping to a staggered halt. For a fleeting moment he actually considers the notion of keeping at it. There wasn’t much else you could do to ruin this for him, after all, but one look at your expression immediately quashes that idea.

He’d be lucky if all he could manage was to stop you from dissolving into ugly, heaving sobs, let alone worry about getting himself off. Dammit. You really were nothing but a pain in his ass.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He deadpans, slowly withdrawing his fingers from your cunt now that he was thoroughly coated in warm, smelly piss. “To be honest I was kind of tired of that rug anyway. And these clothes, too.”

You hiccup so sadly that what little bit of anger had sparked inside him immediately dies out. He couldn’t even be mad at you for this no matter how much he may have wanted to blame you for everything. You’d tried to warn him.

“T- Tomu-nii … mm’sorry …”

Tomura sighs through his nose, hard enough to make the split end tips of his hair shift. “Don't be. That was my fault. Just - let me find something to clean us up with.”

“Do I have to take another bath?” You ask so meekly he almost misses it.

Pausing halfway through the motion of rising to his feet, he glances down at you again. It occurs to him quickly enough that it wasn’t the accident you were so upset about but, rather, the looming possibility of another aggressively meted out trip to the bathroom. Interesting. He’d almost think he was mistaken, it had only happened once, after all, but the way your lower lip wobbles tells him everything he needs to know. Apparently you were more scared of him than you’d let on.

“No, not right now. I think I can get you clean enough with a wet rag or something. You’ll have to take one later but,” Tomura scoffs, hating that he was actually trying to be nice after you’d peed all over him. “I’ll try not to be so rough next time. You just made me mad last night, that’s all.”

You nod slowly, looking like you don’t quite believe that, but still too naively trusting to press the matter. “Okay.”

Nodding once, Tomura climbs to his feet. The inner seam of his pants from the knee down is absolutely soaked and he makes it only three steps before deciding he didn’t like them all that much to begin with. Dropping his hand to the rough denim, he brushes all five fingers across the thigh and they dissolve into nothing without a second thought to the matter. He can faintly hear you ooohing behind him but there were much more important things to worry about than how easily impressed you were.

His half flagged cock throbs hopefully inside his boxer briefs and he reaches down to delicately adjust himself. God, he’d be aching for the next week thanks to your uncontrollable bladder.

An idea pops into his head with that thought. You weren’t the only thing he’d been saddled with yesterday, and he turns to regard the thick gym bag he’d previously thrown against the far wall in anger. It’s where he’d gotten your pink onesie after you’d similarly soiled the first pair of clothes you’d been wearing. He hadn’t bothered to look through all of its contents just yet, but he felt relatively confident he’d find what he wanted in there.

Circling back around, Tomura squats in front of the bag and yanks it open. He can feel your eyes watching him from your spot on the floor but he pays it no mind. Digging inside, he pulls out a few more articles of clothing, far too cutesy for his tastes, and then a book on child care that he knows for certain was put there in jest. Over his shoulder it gets chucked, and he digs deeper. Down at the very bottom he finds exactly what he’d been looking for.

But in addition to the baby wipes there are two other items that catch his attention. He outright balks at the very notion - however, realistically speaking, it could very well be the answer to his problems. At least the most pressing one, anyway.

The idea that All for One knew he’d likely run into this issue but still decided to dump you on him anyway bothers Tomura a great deal and he frowns even as he looks over the packaging. Diapers and pull ups. What was the difference? He’s not so sure there is one, and he feels almost certain that they serve the same purpose. But further inspection proves him wrong. One was for a total lack of control and the other was for the potty training stage, so not as thick or absorbent. That’s what the packing said but, at any rate, they definitely weren't the plain adult brands he was looking at here.

These were bright and colorful, and he can’t help but cringe at the thought of putting you in either of them. But he was still left with a very real concern that he simply couldn’t overlook. The fact he even had to make this decision at all was ridiculous but he couldn’t very well have you pissing on every available surface in his room. And given your track record of absolutely drenching whatever you happened to be sitting on at the time …

Hesitantly, Tomura takes out the diapers and shuffles towards his unkempt bed. The print on the back wasn't particularly clear about what to do with them. He’d probably have to look up a tutorial later, when he wasn’t feeling quite so downtrodden and his balls weren’t aching, though that would certainly put him on a few watch lists. Not that it really mattered.

He sighs and tosses the package on top of his sheets before tearing into the baby wipes. Taking his time, he methodically scrubs his wrist and his legs clean while he contemplates his next move. It wasn’t going to be pretty. It certainly wasn’t going to be sexy. It was still probably the lesser of two evils, though. Far be it that he wanted to go this route but did he really even have any other choice at this point?

“Tomu-nii …”

Your soft whining draws him back to reality and, abruptly realizing you’ve been sitting in your own piss this entire time, he turns to look back at you. For a split second, he seriously considers just killing you right then and there. It would save him a lot of trouble and you wouldn’t even realize what was coming. You were so stupid you’d probably think he was going in for a hug or something asinine like that. He’d be doing you a favor, really, because as far as he was concerned, death was certainly preferable to wearing diapers but … the urge fizzles out almost as quickly as it had appeared. He wasn’t going to let you slip out of his hold until after he’d gotten to bury himself in that tight, pretty little pussy of yours.

Decision made, Tomura makes his way over to the carpet again. You look cold, which doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, and he bends down to grab the meat of your upper arms so he can drag you up to your feet. “Come on. I think I’ve got a solution.”

Your brows furrow slightly. “Salution?”

“Close enough.”

Steering you over to the bed, he makes you bend over the mattress so he can take a baby wipe to the backs of your thighs and ass. Luckily, depending on how you looked at it, the urine had run down rather than going every which direction so it was pretty easy to clean up. The way you tremble and shift your weight back and forth makes it a bit more difficult than it needed to be but he manages, somehow.

Tomura straightens after a long moment, finally deeming the back of you good to go. He’s not so sure he can get through this next part when you were fidgeting so much, though, and he briefly considers the clothes in the gym bag. The thought of putting you in another girly, saccharine sweet garment repulses him almost as much as the thought of putting you in a diaper. But he was going to have to pick and choose his battles here and, reaching back, he delicately tugs off his t-shirt.

“Turn around.”

You slowly comply, teeth chattering the whole time.

“Arms up.”

At this, you hesitate. But at his expectantly bland look, you do as you're told and raise your arms up in the air. The lift of your heavy tits almost successfully distracts him and it is with a great deal of self control on his part that he pulls his shirt down over your head, yanking it a little too forcefully into place.

“There.” He practically hisses, watching you clumsily work your arms through the sleeves. “Is that better?”

You think about that for a moment, eyes scanning across the front of his shirt, and he briefly wonders if you’re going to say something derisive about the worn video game logo stretched across your chest. But then you smile, nodding your head a little too enthusiastically.

“Mm! It smells like Tomu-nii!”

He really couldn’t stand you.

“Good. In return, I’ll need you to cooperate with me here. I’ve never done this before, you know?”

You blink at him quizzically. “Done what?”

Tomura rolls his eyes, feeling grumpier by the second. He couldn’t wait to get this over with and have you situated so he could run off to the bathroom for what probably wouldn’t even amount to five minutes of desperate jerking. “Never mind. Just do what I tell you, okay?”

You nod your head again, but he has some very real doubts about that. Even when you were pretending to go along with whatever it was he wanted you still found some way to fuck everything up for him. If this scheme somehow backfired because your brain was so scrambled you couldn’t even follow simple directions, he was not going to be happy.

Mentally bracing himself for the worst possible outcome, he reaches for the diapers. He rips the bag open almost violently and pulls one out, but it feels even more wrong in his hands than he’d thought it would. A strange sense of scandalized affront warms his chest, making him reconsider this choice for the upteenth time. If Tomura was being completely honest, he felt embarrassed for you but a quick glance in your direction proves that you don’t share quite the same sentiment. You really couldn’t have cared less, huh?

Right. Baby brain.

He grumbles under his breath as he non too gently snaps the diaper open with a loud crinkle of plastic and lays it out close to the edge of his bed. Motioning you closer, Tomura awkwardly helps you get seated on the damn thing and then instructs you to lay down. You genuinely don’t seem to have a problem with this as you recline back, just placidly peering up at him with your little fists balled in the hem of his shirt, but now that he’s gotten this far he’s not sure how to proceed.

At a loss, he takes another baby wipe out of the package and inserts himself between your bent legs. “I’m going to clean you some more, okay?” He's not sure why he’s telling you that, especially when all you do is nod your dopey head in understanding. Just buying time. That’s all he was doing.

But it gives him a chance to think and for that he’s grateful. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to figure out what All for One’s intention with all this had been. ‘A splendid birthday present for my favorite pupil’, he’d said, as if there were any others. But what was the reason? Surely you weren’t actually supposed to be a sex slave for him. Not in this sorry state. His battered onahole did a much better job on that front and it wasn’t prone to tantrums or crying, and it certainly didn’t pee on his stuff. It also didn’t require more than a perfunctory cleaning every few months. He couldn’t very well shove you into his nightstand and forget about it until the next time he was in the mood to rut into something.

All that was true, yes, but … his onahole also wasn’t warm to the touch, and it didn’t have soft, curly hair framing its abused slit (he really should buy a new one) nor did it self lubricate. It didn’t squeeze him quite the same way your pussy had squeezed his fingers, and it didn’t even really feel like an actual vagina now that he had something to compare it to. You were soft and squishy, pliable in the way only flesh and blood could be, and although he had no way of knowing if this had been All for One’s plan or not, he was certainly self aware enough to recognize that he’d screwed up somewhere along the line.

Tomura absolutely should have turned you to dust while he still had the chance.

Licking his lips, he drags the wipe through the seam of your cunt much more slowly than he needed to. You don’t even stir on the bed, and he thinks you must be starting to doze after … all of that. He’s not quite ready to leave well enough alone yet though, and he gently presses down on the spot where he now knows your clit is hiding. Still using the moist towelette as a pretense to keep touching you like this, he circles the sensitive little bud with it and genuine surprise washes over him when you let out a soft, pleasant sigh.

He glances up at your face but you aren’t even looking at him, lashes fanned out against the apples of your cheeks. It’s hard to tell if you were actually asleep or just pretending so you could lull him into a false sense of security, yet he doesn’t particularly care one way or another. You were his so he could do whatever he wanted to you, right? Besides. You kind of owed him after pissing all over his hand like that.

Discarding the baby wipe, Tomura bends closer and carefully spreads your labia again. He could see your little hole weakly palpitating, beckoning him to pick back up where he’d left off, but he drags his gaze a bit higher instead. You were so velvety soft and smooth it bordered on insane, so much more inviting than he ever would have thought possible.

He briefly hesitates before throwing caution aside and sealing his lips around your clit, gently mouthing at it. Your plushy thighs twitch around his head as you shift on top of the mattress, letting out another breathy sound that rushes straight to his cock. It almost hurts, the way it so eagerly springs back to life after being denied something as simple as release, but he can’t find it in himself to complain. You were giving him another chance, knowingly or not, and he wasn’t the type to squander such an opportunity.

Tomura takes his time lapping at you over the next few minutes until you’re almost as wet as when he’d started. You taste heavenly even with the artificial flavor of the wipes clinging to your folds and he entertains the notion of eating you out until you cum all over his face. There’s something he wants even more than that, though, and he sighs in relief when he finally straightens up so he can fish his cock out. It was almost painfully sensitive to the touch, and he could feel it throbbing potently in his hand. He knew this probably wasn’t going to last long but he didn’t care.

Guiding himself to your waiting entrance, he slowly pushes in one fraction at a time, damn near blowing his load the second his glans disappears into your body. He holds back though, struggling to maintain his composure as he seethes through gritted teeth. You finally seemed to realize that something was going on and your pretty eyes flutter open, immediately searching out his face.

“Tomu-nii …?”

“Be quiet. I’ve got you.”

You accept that in lieu of an explanation surprisingly fast, at least by his standards, and without another word you sleepily glance down at the juncture where your bodies were connected. A slow inhale makes your chest rise, mouth falling open as if to groan. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck,” the sound rattles out of Tomura’s chest as he slides in right down to the base, toes flexing against the floor. “I’m not even gonna’ get to enjoy this.”

Brows knitting together, you let out the softest mewling sound he’s ever heard and it makes him dig his carefully poised fingers deeper into the meat of your hips. He can’t even bring himself to move, so overwhelmed by how soft and wet your guts are. It felt like you were massaging his length, involuntarily or not, as your pussy suckles at the tip like he’s almost positive your mouth would.

Softly wheezing, Tomura drops his chin to look at where the two of you were stuck together. His pelvis was so flush against yours that your pudgy cunt was molded to the front of him, squishing under the pressure, and his silvery pubes were tangled with your darker ones. He hadn’t expected such a sight to be so damn erotic and it has him twitching, fighting back the orgasm he’d gone through hell and back for.

He’s almost scared to do it but, slowly, he eases back. The way his cock gradually reappears, glistening obscenely now, very nearly sends him over the edge. He isn’t sure how he hasn’t ruptured yet, his ballsac drawn so tight and throbbing that it leaves him feeling lightheaded, but through sheer force of will alone he manages to sink back into the inviting heat of your body without spraying your insides white. His self control was tentative as best, hanging on by a mere thread, but you felt far too good to waste on a quick nut.

“Goddamn … you’re so tight, baby. So fucking tight.”

You fidget underneath him, fussily tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Mm’ not a baby …”

Your pouty little response is enough to make him bark out a clipped laugh, more breathless than amused. You could insist you weren’t a baby all you wanted but, even putting aside the cruel, infantile reprogramming of your brain, it was hard to think otherwise when you were spread out on top of a diaper. It’s stark white, cottony lining was an almost unsettling backdrop to the perfect view he had of his cock stuttering in and out of your slick cunt. Even when he was barely moving, it crinkled softly underneath you with each rocking motion of his hips and he couldn’t quite forget it was there no matter how hard he tried.

Tomura wasn’t sure what he would ultimately do with you and he knew even less why he was even entertaining this wildly absurd situation to begin with, but there was no denying that you did have some use. The clinging grip of your pussy, for starters, and if he could get that bratty mouth of yours under control he might even some day find your company bearable. He still didn’t particularly like you but it wasn’t so farfetched to think that he might be able to tolerate you, with enough effort.

Hissing through his teeth, he drags one of his hands down to spread your puffy lips apart and get a good look at the way your petal soft folds clutch to his cock. It was a mesmerizing visual in the worst possible way, especially when accompanied by the soft, wet clicking he pulls from your body. He could have watched this for hours on end but, realistically, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he gives his wrist a brief twist to bring the middle finger down on your clit.

You twitch at the contact but Tomura takes a much more gentle approach this time, sedately drawing circles around the swollen bud. He doesn’t get much in the way of a reaction for his trouble so he just keeps at it, rubbing you in tandem with his staggered thrusts. The thought of making you cum around his cock is almost disturbingly enticing, but he isn’t so sure he can accomplish that. Not when so much of his focus was devoted to simply biting back his orgasm - but then, to his throbbing surprise, you draw a faltering breath.

“Tomu-nii … feels good …”

It’s as if the air had been punched right out of him. He isn't so sure he even believes his own ears, the blood suddenly pounding inside of them making it hard to hear much of anything. He groans though, thick and heavy as he slides his other hand up across your stomach to push at the bottom of his shirt. Your grip on the soft cotton momentarily tightens, still fighting him at every turn, but you give in almost immediately and allow him to shove it over the swell of your tits.

They’re moving, jiggling ever so slightly with the push and pull of his narrow hips as they quietly slap against the backs of your thighs. Tomura heaves, practically doubling over you with another throaty moan that rises in pitch at the tail end. His palm descends on one of your breasts, squeezing hard enough that the pliable flesh bulges and spills out between four of his fingers. You just stare up at him the entire time, face pinched and flushed while your glistening eyes dreamily watch him with a far off sort of quality that he’s sure must be - has to be pleasure.

He’d never seen anything sexier in his whole life, and that thought alone is far more terrifying than he could have ever guessed it would be. There was something wrong with you, yes, by All for One’s design. But there was something even more inherently wrong with him for getting off on this so much and without the added bonus of quirk tampering to excuse his behavior. You were so sweet and unfairly innocent despite your seductive figure, the sight of you naked save his bunched up t-shirt driving him absolutely wild. It was like you belonged here, with him, in his bed. It wasn’t that he no longer wanted to kill you but that he couldn’t.

What little bit of self control he’d still been clinging to up until now shatters, and Tomura snaps his hips into your upturned ass: once, twice, three times. The sticky squelching between your bodies increases in volume, echoing inside his skull like a ricocheting bullet as he watches your face screw up at the sudden force. It doesn’t even matter though. He’s long since reached his limit and, with a wounded grunt, he slams into you one final time, lurching over your prone body.

The sound that comes out of his mouth as he shudders and violently paints your pink guts is, frankly, embarrassing. But he’s riding a high too great to care, clinging to you hard enough to make his joints ache and you whimper in discomfort. He can’t stop though. He’s cumming so hard, pulse after pulse, that it feels like his soul actually slips out of his body for a worryingly long beat before returning in fragmented pieces. The same, but also somehow different. Like he’d experienced rebirth in the warm, comforting clutch of your drenched cunt.

He wheezes as if he’d been stabbed in the chest when he finally eases his softening cock out of you some time later.

Tomura was completely spent, both physically and mentally. His wobbly legs could hardly support his weight anymore but, with a strength of mind he hadn’t even realized he possessed, he directs a shaky finger to your clit again. You squirm in response, huffing after that rough treatment, but he soothes you with hushed words and a gentle touch to the delicate little pearl he barely even needs to brush against to have you shaking for him.

“Relax. You feel good, don’t you? Let me hear those pretty sounds again, baby.”

Obstinately, you purse your lips together to deny him even that one simple request. Tomura heaves a tired sigh, wishing you weren’t such a brat, but he doesn’t let up. The gentle circles he rubs into your clit with the pad of his finger slowly brings you around though, grudgingly, and he can’t quite deny the satisfaction that sparks in his throat when your mouth warbles open to let loose the sweetest, tiny moan he’s ever heard.

“Nngh … Tomu-nii …!”

“Don't fight it. I want you to feel good too, yknow.” He pauses, tongue glancing over his dry lips. “Will you cum for me, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, eyes screwing shut, but the way your body continues to tense up seems to suggest otherwise. He could tell you were practically thrumming with it, burning from the inside out even as his milky white discharge slowly oozes down your slit to pool in the seat of the diaper. It was unexpectedly exciting to watch, disproportionately naughty given how utterly unappealing the crinkly plastic was at first glance, and he picks up the pace of his rubbing.

“I think you’re lying again. You liked how it felt when I was inside you, right? This will be even better, I promise. You’ll love it. I know you will.”

Weakly writhing on top of his bed, you crack your eyes open to peer up at him again. “T - Tomu-nii … I can’t … ahh. Ahh. Ahh! I … I’m … ahh! Tomu-niiiii!”

You suddenly jerk, tossing your head back against the sheets, and he watches in rapt fascination as you quake so hard it nearly catches him off guard. It wasn’t the seductive, rolling tremors he was used to seeing in porn videos but, rather, a full bodied spasm that had you twisting as if to get away. Your thighs try to clamp shut around his hand but he elbows them apart, refusing to let up until he’d milked your orgasm as thoroughly as you’d milked his.

And you looked so pretty, too. Caught up in mind numbing pleasure so intense he couldn’t even begin to fathom what you were feeling. Even his own earth shattering release seemed to pale in comparison to this, and it takes you much longer to start coming down from it than it did him.

Your hair is a mess by the time you’re done, matted in some places and sticking to your damp forehead in others. For a fleeting moment, Tomura can almost see the adult woman you should have been when your face goes slack in ecstasy and your flushed lips were parted to suck in as much oxygen as you could get. He imagines you were probably no stranger to pleasures of the flesh, not with that body and those looks, so the thought that he could make you feel this good was a bit like a pat on the back for him. It was probably just beginners luck, but that didn’t stop him from feeling any less proud of himself.

Slowly, he takes his hands off you and steps back. The spot between your legs was absolutely covered in fluid, your sticky, copious slick mixing with his spunk to make a truly viscous concoction that clung to your damp curls. He thinks that he should probably clean you up again and reaches for the baby wipes, but stops himself short.

The idea that crosses his mind is very likely foul, perhaps even more offensive than anything else he’d done til now, but … a quick glance at your sloppy pussy proves too great a temptation. There was something inherently erotic about making you walk around with his semen dripping out of you, even if it was only going to be absorbed by the diaper, and he shuffles close again with his heart in his throat.

Tomura hasn’t the slightest clue what he’s doing and it takes him a long moment to figure out the tape tabs on the sides. He gets frustrated halfway through the process, struggling to make sure the crinkly plastic was secure enough around your waist, but by some miracle you stay relatively still through all of his fumbling. He isn’t quite sure how he got so lucky but he doesn’t stop to question it, hawkishly focusing all of his attention on the task at hand.

At length, he straightens to admire his work. It’s not perfect by any means but he’s pretty sure the damned thing wasn’t going to fall off as soon as you stood up so there was that. The diaper itself was just as obnoxiously girly as everything else in the gym bag; a soft, lilac purple with a flowery, cartoon bunny design on them. He didn’t mind the rabbits so much, and it was certainly preferable to the onesie, but he still thought you’d look nice in something a bit cooler.

The realization that he was thinking about this in such quaint, fuzzy terms chills Tomura to the bone, and his gaze flicks to your face so he can ask what you think of them. Even if only to distract himself from his own uncomfortably perverse change of heart.

But you were already asleep. He probably should have expected as much, and he could tell you were actually snoozing this time by the shallow, even rise and fall of your chest. A strange sense of embarrassment washes over him and he reaches out to delicately take the hem of his shirt between thumb and finger so he can tug it back down into place. You only snuggle further into the mattress though, getting comfortable, and further cementing the notion that he had, indeed, fucked up.

He’d never be able to get rid of you now.

Grumbling under his breath, Tomura leans over you with one hand braced on the mattress. The other slips between your legs, unable to squeeze shut now with the bulk of the diaper between them, and ever so carefully cups his palm over your crotch. It was cool to the touch, but if he pushed down hard enough he could feel the warmth of your body bleeding through. You let out a quiet huff in response, petulant towards him even in your sleep, and he can’t quite stop himself from laughing. It was absurd. It was strange. It was strikingly, unequivocally weird, but he was almost glad he hadn’t disintegrated you or strangled you to death.

This wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d wished for a woman he could do with as he pleased and not have to worry about her running away, but … it was close enough, he supposed.

[nobodyfamousposts]

BURN THE WITCH! - Part 8

Finally! It is finished.

Also...warnings I guess for itchiness. And severe scratching due to itchiness.

Here goes:

Lila was prideful. Exceedingly so. But let it not be said she was too prideful to know when it was time to jump ship.

And the ship that was Paris was sinking fast.

All thanks to Ladybug, of course. Because “Little Miss Righteousness” just had to stick her nose into Lila’s business. How dare that insect make a fool out of her?

She would have had to leave soon anyway. While she could certainly come up with a new story to fool her classmates and explain away the previous unfortunate incident, it would still be difficult since they were starting to wise up and it would be harder to keep them under her thumb if she stayed much longer. While the akuma had been dealt with and everyone’s memories erased, Lila didn’t want to take any chances.

Then there was the matter with Hawk Moth. She had some suspicion of his identity—but that was all it was: suspicion. The evidence she had to go on was circumstantial at best. Unless she could find something to confirm it, it was useless. And even if she was right, there wasn’t much likelihood that she would be able to make use of it without proof.

She clenched her fists in growing rage at the reminder.

How dare he turn on her like that?!

There was something that grated at her knowing that she would be leaving things unfinished. That she would be letting him get away unscathed. She at least wanted to get some sort of payback for him leaving her to dry.

If there was any real justice in the world, she would get the chance to try and take his Miraculous for herself. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Especially after how he had cut ties with her.

But now he would expect her to try something. He may even try to take her out himself first. It was what Lila would do in his place.

No, it was better to cut her losses. She still had the an exemplary school record. She still had her position and experience as a model to take with her. She could just move somewhere new and start over. There was nothing worth staying in Paris for anyway. She was getting bored here.

Her decision had absolutely nothing to do with Ladybug’s threat though! Ladybug was clearly the one jealous of her! She wasn’t scared of that pathetic little bug! She was too much of a goody-goody to actually do anything to Lila herself! Ladybug was supposed to be held to a higher standard, after all! She was just bluffing! She wouldn’t actually do anything to her! So Lila had no reason to be scared! And she wasn’t!

It took a moment for Lila to realize her hand holding the phone was trembling. She bit back a curse and clutched the hand with the other to hide it and force the them to still. But when that didn’t work, she set the phone on speaker before putting it on its stand on the table.

Lila’s mother, bless her, was ignorant of this inner turmoil—or if she was aware, she simply attributed it to Lila’s claims. The woman was all too willing to blindly trust her precious daughter. All Lila had to do was use that and soon Paris and all its problems would be nothing but a bad memory.

She busied with drying her hair with a towel while regaling her mother with the tale of the latest attack—albeit a heavily edited version. Honestly though, wasn’t that stupid Cure of Ladybug’s supposed to fix everything to how it was before the attack? So shouldn’t she have been dry already? And back in her new designer clothes?

As it was, her fall in the Seine had left her hair a mess, and she barely had time to simply wash it properly, much less take the good long soak she really craved. She was fortunate enough that there had been time to return home and try to clean up at all. And especially to get rid of those clothes she had “borrowed“ from Marinette’s home. The last thing she needed was to be seen running around in that. Not that there was anything wrong with the clothes themselves, but questions would no doubt arise as to where she had gotten them or why she was wearing them. And the last thing she needed was for her mother and Marinette of all people to meet.

After a moment of consideration, she twisted the towel just enough to cause her pain. With a hiss and a gasp, it sounded quite like she had been crying. Enough to fool someone who was not physically there at any rate.

“I just miss Home. It’s been so long.” She said, ending with a sniffle that may have been partly exaggerated and may have been partly a sign of a cold coming on.

“But what about your friends? You just seemed to be getting so settled in Paris. You even have a boyfriend. From what you’ve been telling me, you two are awfully close. You have a difficult enough time seeing each other as it is. Won’t moving just make it worse?”

Geez, the woman was being annoyingly persistent today.

“We can write and video chat.” Lila replied easily. She could just “break it off” later. Maybe claim he’d been cheating on her. That was usually good for some sympathy points.

Her mother paused at that. “But long distance relationships are much more difficult. And I thought you liked it in Paris? You’ve been doing so well here. I hadn’t seen you so happy in a long time.”

Of course she’d been happy. She had people devoted to her every whim, fame and connections as a model, and a cushy front row seat to the downfall of that so-called hero.

Lila narrowly avoided clicking her tongue in irritation. Why did her mother have to be so parentally concerned now of all times?

“But Mom, I’m just worried about all of the akumas!” She said with exaggerated earnesty. “This last one was really dangerous! I could have been killed!” She bit her lip and hitched her breath, as if trying to hold back tears. Or hide her lack of them. It was a good thing her mother wasn’t there to see and possibly call her out on it.

Not that she would. She was such a good mother like that. Overly trusting and easily duped. How many teenagers could say they were so lucky?

“I’ve tried to make the best of Paris, but it’s just too much!” Lila cried.

“Oh, my poor dear!” Came her mothers’s voice over the phone. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize how much this move has had an effect on you.”

In that instant, she knew she had good as won. From the safety of her home and with no one in direct sight, Lila allowed herself a smug grin of victory before schooling her expression back to that of the pitiful child she wanted the older woman to see her as. No one may have been there to see it, but as an avid actress of her skill level, it helped her to match her desired tone and inflection with an appropriate expression. She gasped loudly and grabbed the phone to bring it closer to her.

“But Mom, I know how important this job is to you! I don’t want to get in the way...”

“It’s all right, dear. I can contact your aunt and have you stay with her and your cousins until I can finish things here.”

That made her frown.

Lila’s aunt was...not ideal, as her cousins had been among the earlier victims of Lila’s manipulations. She dared say her aunt favored her over any of her children by the time she’d left them. And her cousins were wary of her to say the least after the way she had played them against each other and themselves. But that had been a couple of years ago and she couldn’t be sure they hadn’t caught on and solidified their relationships to better counter her.

Still, if Paris was any indication of how easily people could be fooled and turned against one another, she could probably manage it again.

“Lila?” Her mother called, drawing her attention back. “Are you all right?”

Lila played up the uncertainty. “I don’t know…I wouldn’t want to cause you or Auntie trouble…I can just stay here.” She looked down and to the side and spoke tonelessly, the picture of a dejected daughter. “I’m sure I can just try to put my fear aside and make the best of it…”

“Nonsense!” Her mother exclaimed. “You should never have to make yourself suffer like that!”

There was the sound of papers being shifted, followed by the clicking of a mouse. No doubt her mother was already looking into the procedure on how to transfer.

“I only want you to be safe and well, mi bella.” Her mother said, softly. “And if Paris isn’t the best fit for you, then I’ll discuss the matter with the Embassy and see about ending my assignment early.”

“But Mom, you don’t have to! I can manage, really!” She half-heartedly attempted. “The heroes are even starting to do a…half-way decent job.”

Her mother scoffed. “A job that they have been at for over a year and still can’t manage! It’s clearly not safe here if the city’s own heroes can’t even do their jobs properly.”

Hook.

“But let’s get you taken out of that school first.”

Line.

Lila smirked, unseen.

“Thank you, Mom.”

Sinker.

__________________

Another loss. And a worse one, even.

Witch Hunter had been ruthless and efficient. Perhaps one of his better creations to date. Her powers to know one’s sins and enthrall anyone who heard her announcements soon gained her the entirety of Paris under her sway—and by extension, his. That the powers specifically targeted one girl would have been a disadvantage had the girl in question not had such a…sordid history. That history fortunately gave plenty of opportunities to rally others to the cause, but as evidenced from the fight, it still had limitations.

If only Lila had some ounce of subtlety. Then even Ladybug would have been affected by Witch Hunter, and both Miraculous would have been willingly handed over to him if it meant getting rid of the girl in exchange. The key had been that Ladybug’s opinion of Lila had already been so low that no “reveal” of her misdeeds had been enough to enthrall her.

How curious. He had been aware of Lila’s grudge against Ladybug, but he hadn’t realized that the feelings were mutual. Just what had Lila done to make Ladybug despise her so?

He could hazard a guess, but not any that would lead him anywhere. Lila’s list of crimes was rather extensive. And despite the knowledge he had of her, even he couldn’t boast immunity to the rage.

So what had kept Ladybug from giving up on her?

Was it Ladybug’s Miraculous that protected her? Some sort of inner strength? Or was she already aware of his use of Lila? But even if she was aware, how would that be enough?

He had been able to keep his head, but some of the things he heard had been enough to turn his stomach and make him question his alliance with her. He had been accepting at first of her audacity in how she approached him on both sides of the mask, as she presented herself as useful and willing to aid him. And she had been useful, he would give her that. Her main concern was having others under her sway and she was willing to do anything to maintain it…even remove anyone who would become a threat to her.

He hadn’t lied when he told Lila she was of no more use to him. But that hadn’t been the entire truth. Given what he now realized, she was more of a threat than he had ever considered. He couldn’t put it past her to try to figure out his identity to take his Miraculous for herself.

He took a breath.

Perhaps...he needed to reconsider the girl’s position? On both sides of the mask.

“Sir? What should be done about Lila Rossi?” While the interruption from Nathalie was timely, it didn’t truly disrupt his current thought process.

It was a good question. She had been a willing ally and useful tool in manipulating people. He certainly had praise for her skills.

But...

Perhaps he should have been more cautious and try to question just how she obtained those skills?

As well as her intentions for the future. For himself and especially for his son.

How much did she know? Had she discovered him? Did she suspect? What plans did she have? And now that she had been revealed as a willing ally, what information could others get out of her that could lead back to him?

Lila Rossi was a threat. He could see that now.

But just how much of a risk was she? How much did he risk if she were allowed to remain free? It was clear Ladybug knew of their alliance, and she would be keeping an eye on the girl from here on out. What else could she gain from Lila if he didn’t remove her?

“Sir?”

He paused, considering for a moment.

Then came to a decision.

“Nothing.”

Nathalie started at that in surprise.

“Her contract with the company will be terminated, of course.” He stated, turning to go to his desk and prepare to sign the necessary paperwork. “The company will put out an official statement that we deny any knowledge of her history or dealings, and that we disavow her actions. Anything else is already held under a nondisclosure agreement she signed upon her hiring. Though we should prepare legal action if she attempts to retaliate.”

“But…what should be done about her assistance to you as Hawk Moth?” Nathalie asked.

He straightened.

“Nothing.” He repeated. And he did not like to repeat himself.

“Sir? Is that wise? She has been an accomplice.” She warned him with a frown. “What if she has learned who you are? She could become dangerous.”

He sighed.

“She is a loose thread. But to act on it at this point and try to remove her will only backfire. Ladybug will doubtless be keeping an eye on her from now on. We would risk more if we were caught trying to get rid of her.”

“But since you left her to Witch Hunter’s mercy, she may try to retaliate against you.”

Oh, of that he had little doubt. It was in her nature to turn on those who would not play by her rules.

He had little choice at that point. Witch Hunter and all of Paris were focused solely on seeing the girl punished. He had no way of knowing Ladybug wasn’t already part of the crowd by that time. His mistake was underestimating Ladybug’s will, but even then, would he really have responded differently?

Lila Rossi had lost her use as a tool, and with her antics had used up any good will he had towards her. She lacked the subtlety or even the good sense to simply limit the extent of her lies lest she be found out and face backlash. But much like Miss Bourgeois, she seemed inclined to push the limits of what she could get away with. And unfortunately, with superheroes and villains in Paris, the bounds of what she could normally get away with had increased drastically. Even worse was that she fully seemed to believe she ‘deserved’ the praise and attention simply for claiming things she had never done.

And given how one of her first actions was to buy a trinket to pass off as a false Miraculous and proclaim herself a hero, how long would it have taken for her to decide that she ‘deserved’ a Miraculous as well?

“It was only a matter of time before she set her sights too high. It would be better to cut her off now before she got any ideas about taking a Miraculous, even if it was my own.”

He couldn’t put it past her. Because as much as she despised Ladybug, how could such a girl be satisfied only with her destruction? If she did aid in Ladybug’s defeat, she’d likely just take the Ladybug Miraculous for herself at the first opportunity, and then Gabriel would be back at square one.

No, worse. Because Lila Rossi wouldn’t risk herself for others. It was highly likely she would run away with the Miraculous and then he would lose any chance of obtaining it in this lifetime.

…

Lila Rossi had her uses, but it was best to cut his losses with her now. And Witch Hunter had been the prime time to do so.

It would have been foolish of him to risk his hold over Witch Hunter just to spare Lila at that point. But there was no doubt that she will seek retribution for it. She was certainly spiteful enough, even when it would be to her own detriment.

Still…

“That girl has caused enough problems. We don’t need her interfering with our plans.“

Nathalie clutched her tablet, still worried. “But if she knows…if she tries to reveal you…”

“Lila Rossi is a liar.” He stated as he pulled up news footage of the latest akuma fight. “She is a liar and now people know it. Anything she thinks she knows, we can dismiss as a jilted teenager with delusions of grandeur and an unhealthy interest in my son.”

He paused for a moment, then leaned back in his chair to look to his assistant.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the tale of the ‘Boy Who Cried Wolf’?”

“I am familiar with it, yes.” She replied, albeit confused as to the sudden subject change. “But what does that have to do with this?”

“In the story, the boy is eaten. But his final claim is ultimately proven true, for all the good it does him.” He looked back to the footage, pausing it on Lila’s expression while she was on the pyre.

“But if we do not respond…if Hawk Moth does nothing to silence her, there is no ‘proof’ to her claims. People will suspect it to be another lie. Even moreso, that it’s merely an attempt to get back at me as her ‘former employer’. There will be no ‘wolf’ to validate her claims, even once she’s gone. So yes, we will leave Miss Rossi to her daily life. Let her say what she may think she knows.”

He smirked.

“She could scream it to the world and no one would believe her.”

__________________

It took a while for them to have their conversation and for Marinette to dry her tears. By the time she was able to reach some level of calm, it was almost time to return to school.

One would think that they would be allowed the rest of the day to recover from the akuma attack, but Paris as a whole and the school in particular seemed used to the frequent interruptions by this point. Though perhaps it was more of a testament to Ladybug’s efficiency in dealing with akumas.

…as well as the efficiency of the civilians to set up an entire festival on a spur of the moment. Perhaps she should recommend they try another one at some point? One that doesn’t involve lighting anyone on fire?

When she went downstairs, she found her parents in something of a state of worry. They looked up in surprise when she came down, but were relieved to see her.

“Marinette? When did you get home? I didn’t see you come in.” Tom said.

“A little while ago. We must have just missed each other.” Marinette replied quickly. Then frowned when she notice their expressions. “Is everything okay?”

“There was an akuma attack earlier and one of your schoolmates came here.” Sabine explained. “We had tried to help her and allowed her to change clothes here into something dry, but she took it upon herself to go into your room.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “What?!”

“I don’t know what she was doing in there.” Sabine huffed, angrily. “When I caught her, she tried to claim she had gotten lost. Then your father had gotten a text message from Nadja about a ‘Witch’ and she took off running.”

Lila. There was no one else it could have been. Which meant she had probably done something to sabotage her.

Great. Just great.

They had checked her room and taken pictures of how she left it since they were uncertain of what she may have messed with. As it stood, they wanted to know if anything had been stolen and were questioning whether to call the police.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Her father told her.

“We both are. She was soaked and we had wanted to give her some privacy while she changed.” Sabine shook her head. “I hadn’t thought she would go roaming around the house, much less sneak into your room.”

Tom rested a hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “We should follow up on this though. Maybe Roger will have some advice.”

Sabine nodded to him before turning to her daughter. “Will that be all right, dear?”

Marinette hesitated.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t frustrated. With them. With the situation. All of it.

In their defense, they hadn’t realized it was Lila. And even if they had, they weren’t aware of just how horrible Lila truly was. Despite Marinette’s pleas of innocence during her expulsion, her parents hadn’t fully taken her word for it and even afterwards hadn’t quite believed that Lila was a chronic liar.

But there was a part of her—the part that was still full of indignant anger over the incident and would have formed the core of the Princess Justice akuma Hawk Moth had wanted her to be—that blamed them. If they had just listened to her back then. If they had simply heard her out. If they had believed her about Lila.

They should have known. They should have recognized Lila. They should have remembered what she had done before and at the very least thought to keep an eye on her just in case she tried anything like she had before.

…but Marinette didn’t have it in her to hold a grudge. Especially after what she had seen with Lila and her own grudge.

It wasn’t their fault, it was Lila’s. And while she was irritated with her parents for their negligence, she was willing to forgive them and keep her focus on the one who really deserved her ire.

So for now, she would try to move forward and do what she could.

“I’m not happy about it. But if anything can be done, I’d like to see if we could.”

Her parents agreed and offered reassurances that they would try to address the issue. They also promised her they would be more cautious in the future, which was nice fo them. They offered to let her stay home from school, but that was one thing she had to turn down.

Whatever Lila had done, Marinette probably wouldn’t know until Lila revealed it. It made her dread returning to school. But she couldn’t keep putting it off. If she went now, she could at least try to meet with the others and head off anything Lila could do.

So she made a quick rush to the kitchen to get a small lunch for herself and some cookies for Tikki. With her parents otherwise occupied, that meant that Tikki could come out of hiding and they could talk freely for a bit longer.

“Marinette, maybe you should take a break and stay home for the rest of the school day?” Tikki suggested. And wow, she was certainly taking this ‘be more supportive’ role to heart.

Something in Marinette warmed at that. And in any other circumstances, she would happily have taken Tikki’s advice.

“I’m fine, Tikki. Really.”

Tikki frowned, clearly not buying it. “But you’ve spent half of your day dealing with the crisis caused by Lila and then the akuma that was caused by that crisis, all while trying to keep Lila safe. Even when she was working against you.”

Yeah. There was that.

“You did a lot today. Both as Ladybug and Marinette.” Tikki continued. “No one would fault you if you let yourself recover.”

Marinette hesitated at that.

It was tempting. She was tired. And if she was being honest, she really just wanted to sleep and not deal with anything until tomorrow at least.

But…

She bit her lip.

For all that Tikki’s words made sense and clearly came from a place of concern for her, Marinette couldn’t help but be reminded of only a couple hours ago where Tikki had been trying to convince her to let Lila burn.

She knew that this was different. A matter of self care and health. But even though it’s something she’s wanted and something she appreciates hearing from her kwami, it still felt so strange now that she was experiencing it.

This was something she was going to have to get used to. And she would, she was sure. After all, Tikki was clearly trying for her. And Marinette wanted nothing more than to reciprocate—and also to just drop off into sweet blessed sleep…

However…

“I need to see this through.” She stated, resolutely.

She needed to get back to the school. Both for class and to check on her friends.

After all, even if her Miraculous Cure had fixed the damage caused from the akuma, that didn’t mean her friends were fine. And she still wanted to check in on Rose at the very least.

Tikki looked up at her sadly. Then she floated over and nuzzled Marinette’s cheek, showing her silent support.

It only took a few minutes to gather the rest of her things and make her way to the school.

Even if Tikki assured her that what happened wasn’t her fault, Marinette still felt the need to apologize to Rose for what had happened. Maybe they could still find some way to fix things.

She reached the school in minutes and had almost immediately run into one of her classmates.

Just not the one she had been expecting.

“Adrien?”

He spun to face her, appearing nervous. Even panicked.

“Oh, hey! Marinette! Hi! Hey, um…hey.” He finished, looking embarrassed. “How…are you?”

“I’m fine. Just…have a lot on my mind.” She shrugged. “Just…with Rose and the akuma and everything.”

“Good. That’s good. Well, not good-good about the akuma. But good that you’re okay. Um. Me too.” He looked away, clearly still nervous.

She frowned in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Fine! I’m fine! Just…y’know…got caught up in the akuma attack and was one of her minions for a while. But Ladybug saved me so we’re good.” He said with a not fully sincere smile.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She hadn’t recalled seeing Adrien among the mob. But given how big it had gotten, she wouldn’t be surprised.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. 

“Marinette…one of the things Witch Hunter said…” He looked her in the eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me Lila had threatened you?”

She straightened in shock. “What?!”

He rubbed the back of his head, looking to the ground. “I’m sorry, it’s just…she said a lot of things Lila had done that I hadn’t known. Like…well…” The book. Her framing Adrien for insulting Nino. Her working with his father. “How she threatened you?”

“Oh.” She said, a bit blankly. Because what else could she say?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He implored her. “I had said we were in this together, but…you didn’t tell me she did that.”

It was true. She hadn’t.

But…why hadn’t she?

“I…didn’t think it was a big deal?”

Why was she asking him instead of telling him?

“Not a big—Marinette, she threatened you!” His eyes widened in realization. “Her expelling you was part of her threat, wasn’t it?”

She flinched, but nodded.

“Just…why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you! I would have done more!”

She waved her hands frantically, trying to console him. “It’s okay, Adrien! Really! You were only—it was just…”

A tap at her leg caught her attention. It came from her purse. A quick glance downward revealed Tikki looking up at her from the safety of the clutch she carried with her. The little kwami remained hidden to Adrien, fortunately, but visible to her. Tikki looked up at her with wide eyes and gave a smile and small nod of encouragement.

Why would she—?

Oh.

Oh, right.

“No.” She admitted. “It’s not okay.”

She had been spending months now convincing herself that things were okay when they weren’t. That she was okay when she wasn’t. And that if she at any point felt she wasn’t okay, it was a failing on her part.

That wasn’t a healthy way to live, as she was only just now starting to understand that.

“I don’t know if you realize this, but I’ve been listening to you on things because I look up to you. I took your advice because I trusted you and believed that you only had everyone’s best interest at heart.”

“But I did!” He insisted automatically before catching himself. “I mean, I thought I was...”

“I trusted you over my own intuition. I listened to you when you kept emphasizing the feelings of others over my own. Chloe was bad enough, but Lila too? Even if they were the ones who were horrible, it felt like I was expected to just...” She struggled for a moment to find the wording to accurately convey her feelings before simply shrugging. “Just deal with it.”

He winced. He hadn’t realized the impact he’d had.

“Because of that,” she continued, “whenever I started to have an issue, I brushed it off because I figured that if there was a problem with someone and something they were doing...well, it was just me, right? So I had to do the right thing. I had to be the bigger person. I had to be the ‘Everyday Ladybug’. Even when I didn’t feel like I could be.”

She took a breath.

“And that wasn’t fair to me.”

He looked up at her. Sad and worried and sympathetic all in one. “I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter. I just thought...”

“Chloe’s your friend so it makes sense that you’d want to defend her.” Marinette reasoned. “But Lila, too?” She wrung her hands. “They both did horrible things. They both hurt me...really badly. And it felt like you’ve cared more about their feelings than mine.”

“That’s not it!” He exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. “I just...I know they aren’t then nicest, but they’re struggling. It’s…harder for them than it is for you.“

“If they’re having a hard time, it’s because it’s entirely of their own making. Chloe has been bullying everyone for years, so it’s not our fault that we don’t want to continue to deal with that mistreatment. And Lila has been actively lying to everyone not to be like, but just so she can manipulate them. I get that you care, but your attempts to protect the people you see as ‘needing it’ has resulted in harm to other people who don’t deserve it. You aren’t just enabling them...you’re rewarding them.

“You said to take the highroad, but whatever the highroad is, I don’t think that’s it.”

He gaped at her, some combination of shocked and horrified.

“But I haven’t been encouraging any of this! I tried to help you! I made a deal with her so she would get you back into school.“

Well, that was something she hadn’t known. Although his sudden friendliness with Lila had been suspicious. As had the schools sudden change of heart about her expulsion. But she hadn’t realized the two had been related.

She was grateful to him. Truly. He had only done it for her.

However...

“I never asked you to.”

She wouldn’t have wanted it had she known.

“I never asked you to become Lila’s toy or put yourself in such a bad position for my sake. I only asked you to stand by me and support me.”

She had turned to him that day, wanting him—just someone who knew the truth to speak up in her defense.

To say she was innocent.

To admit that Lila had lied.

To just say she was believed. That she was worth believing in.

“And you didn’t.“

He stared at her. Long and hard. As if this had never occurred to him before. He seemed unable to speak for a full minute.

Until…

“I’m sorry.“

She jumped in surprise.

“I was a hypocrite. I knew she was lying but I convinced myself it wasn’t that bad. And even when I knew people were hurt, it didn’t matter until her lies hurt me.”

He gave a weak laugh.

“Witch Hunter…did you know? The way her power worked was that you only fell under her spell when she announced something Lila did that truly makes you angry.”

He covered his face. In resignation? In guilt?

“I only fell under Witch Hunter’s spell when she revealed Lila had been spying on me for my father. Not when I found out what she did to Rose. Not when I found out what she did to Nino. Not even when I found out what she did to you.” He shook his head. “It only mattered, really truly mattered when it affected me.”

He hung his head in shame.

“I’m a real jerk.”

The denial was automatic on her lips.

“You aren’t a jerk!” She insisted. “You were just—”

He gave a bitter laugh, cutting her off.

“I was so proud of myself that day. When I told you to take the highroad and not out Lila.”

He looked up at her smiling humorlessly.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch you? All the time, I see you doing the right thing. Standing up for people. Doing things to make people happy. Making things better.”

He sighed.

“It felt...it felt good being the one you would listen to and follow.” He admitted. “You were looking up to me and taking my advice. I was so proud of myself! I got to be the one who had solved the problem and made everything better!” He announced with a wave of his hands in an exaggerated fashion before slumping down.

“I’m such an idiot.”

She stared.

He…really admired her that much?

And at that time, he’d just been trying to impress her?

That…hadn’t been the inclination she had gotten at all. It had just felt that he was admonishing her at those times for not being the bigger person. Looking back, now that she was willing to admit it, it had felt like more expectations and double standards.

“I can’t say what you did was okay, because it wasn’t. Lila was able to hurt me. And now she’s hurt Rose and everyone else now because neither of us spoke up when we should have.”

She took a breath.

“But I think I get it. About wanting someone you care about to listen and look up to you. Because that was how I’ve felt about you.”

He jumped and looked up at her in surprise.

Because when it came down to it, hadn’t she been the same? Doing things that had hurt her or others because she had been so focused on Adrien and wanting him to think well of her?

Was it ironic that it was only now, after everything that had happened this day, that she could finally voice even a bit of the feelings she has for him?

They just weren’t the feelings she thought she’d ever be sharing…

But maybe, she thought as she felt Tikki’s comforting presence by her side, these were the ones she needed to?

“It hurts that even when I’m doing the right thing and you say you’re with me, it still feels like you’re not really on my side. Even—especially when I’ve let things get this far at your request.”

“I didn’t mean—I’m sorry—” He started, but he broke off as she raised a hand to stop him.

“I just...” She shook her head. “If we really are friends, I wish you would show it more. And...that you would stand up for me the way you do for them.”

He stared at her in shock. Perhaps a bit of horror as her words really got to him.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured. “I never meant to make you feel that way. I never wanted you to think I don’t care.”

He stood straight and held out his arms to her in clear indication of…something. But she was exhausted—both mentally and physically as it was and her mind was a bit slow to catch just what he was intending to do.

“I know you can handle things, Marinette. You’re strong. And brave. It’s why I know I can trust you when things get tough. But…that you can handle things doesn’t mean you should have to. It doesn’t mean you don’t need support.”

He smiled at her. And oh damn, that smile. It was like a miniature sun and she couldn’t help but stare even as her brain was yelling at her to look away.

The next thing she knew, she was in his arms and…oh…this must be how being held by the sun felt like…

“I want to be someone who you can count on to support you, Marinette.”

Oh. Okay. Nice. This was nice. More of this please. More of just all of this.

The hug must have lasted an eternity. An hour at least? Because it felt like forever until she was drawn out of the soothing feeling by a rumbling and a series of sounds that seemed to mean something…

Could she just…stay like this? For a day or two? Maybe the rest of her life? Tikki tried, bless her, but kwami arms just weren’t the same as human arms and the feeling of being wrapped up in sunshine was bliss.

Oh wait, he was talking more. She should probably be listening right now.

“—contract. Maybe I could talk to them? See what else they know of that could help?”

“Hmm?”

She was dazed and completely out of it, something Adrien seemed to pick up on as he released his hold (noo, don’t do that!) and backed away (noooooo) to arm’s length to look her over.

“Marinette? Are you okay?”

She blinked a few times as her mind reoriented to where she was.

And more specifically to who she was with.

“Oh! Right! Fine! You’re fine—I mean, I’M fine. Just…” She sighed, rubbing at one eye with the palm of her hand. “Just a…long day.”

Maybe she should have stayed home after all if just one hug could do that…

Adrien seemed to notice this and frowned in concern. He took in her state and apparently there was something about her appearance she had missed earlier because he seemed to get the same idea.

“Marinette, are you okay? If you’re tired, maybe you should go home and rest?”

She shook her head insistently. “No. I can’t.”

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to push yourself. Remember? I’m going to support you. And I know everyone else would understand.”

She didn’t think they wouldn’t. But as much as she just wanted to sleep until tomorrow and skip the rest of this day, she wasn’t sure she would be able to relax at home if she didn’t know what was happening with her friends.

“If nothing else, I want to check up on Rose.” Seeing that he looked ready to argue, she rushed on. “I need this. Please.”

He hesitated. And she was worried he would push the issue, because she was sure that she would give in if he did. She just did not have the energy to argue at this point. Fortunately though, he seemed to understand as he took her arm in his.

“Okay. But I’ll be right here with you.”

Any other day, she would be a stammering mess if Adrien were to take her arm and walk with her like this.

Today, she was simply grateful.

__________________

It didn’t take them too long to find Rose. She was in the hallway talking with Alya. The two seemed deep in conversation that they didn’t notice the duo approach.

“Rose!” Marinette exclaimed, loosening her arm from Adrien’s hold and rushing to her friend. “Are you okay?”

The blonde looked up at her, tearful.

“I’m okay.” She murmured as she wiped at her eyes. 

“But are you?” Alya broke in, asking Marinette. “Girl, I saw the footage!”

Marinette blinked.

“Footage?” She asked, and then started to back away at the expression on Alya’s face.

Alya could be headstrong, but she never really got angry. Upset, certainly. Annoyed, often. But even in the heights of Lila’s worst attempts to make Marinette look bad, Alya had never truly gotten angry—just righteous and in Marinette’s opinion that was admittedly a bit resentful at the time, acting a bit superior. Perhaps the only time she had ever seen her friend look truly angry was during Hero’s Day, and even then it took a hit from Dark Cupid and Hawk Moth’s control to get her there.

So seeing Alya looking ready to claw someone’s eyes out was…unsettling, to say the least.

Even Adrien apparently seemed to think so, as he moved up to Marinette and almost seemed to position himself slightly between them. “Alya? What happened?”

Despite Adrien’s attempt to act as a barrier, Marinette tried to reach out, concerned for her friend’s state. The way she was looking, Marinette half wondered if she wasn’t still affected by Witch Hunter. A quick glance to a worried Rose disproved that easily enough, but perhaps it was a remnant of her power the Cure missed? “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean am I okay? Are YOU okay?!” Alya shouted, pointing at Marinette. “Girl, I saw what what happened with you and Lila!”

Marinette jumped. Her mind immediately raced to her call out of Lila just a little over an hour ago. Did someone record her going off? Was there something that had revealed her as Ladybug? Had she messed up?!

“What?! No wait—it’s not what you—I didn’t mean—!”

Alya was pulling up her phone, and by the time she turned it so that Marinette and Adrien could see, the video already started playing. The video was recorded from someone within the akuma’s mob—not yet grown to the level of the city yet.

Marinette briefly recognized that the location in the video seemed familiar but hadn’t quite registered how when a sudden commotion caught the attention of the group. The person recording turned the camera sharply, which blurred and then focused on a fallen figure a short distance away.

“—conspirator helping the Witch! Someone grab her!”

…oh. That figure was her.

And the moment when Lila had betrayed her and tried to sacrifice her to the mob.

“Hey! That’s Marinette!” Came Alya’s voice from the phone, shortly followed by the exclamations from the crowd that Marinette already knew were coming because she had lived this and yet despite seeing it on record, she still struggled to believe it actually happened.

…the crowd leaving her alone part. Not the Lila betraying her part. THAT, she could believe no question.

“I can’t believe she would do that!” Alya exclaimed. The real Alya. The present one. Who was standing in front of her and not the one in the phone—who was almost disturbingly cheerful in how she was calling for Lila’s blood.

…to be honest, Marinette wasn’t sure whether that mob Alya or the furious one in front of her scared her more. Present Alya, for her part, was clearly NOT happy about the events.

Neither was Adrien, apparently, as he grabbed the phone from Alya and looked to be furious himself.

“Wait—Lila did WHAT?!” He demanded. And…wow, was this what Adrien had been like as part of the mob? She hadn’t known he could get that angry.

“She tried to throw Marinette to the mob!” Alya bit out.

“I can’t believe it!”

“How could she—?!”

“When Marinette had just been trying to help her!”

“That lousy little b—”

“WHY did she even think that was necessary?!”

“Is it too late to torch her and say the akuma did it?”

Marinette looked between the two, feeling that she should be saying something but honestly, just getting all the more overwhelmed.

A hand on her arm broke her attention away from the two and back to poor Rose, who looked almost to the point of tears again.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Oh Rose, you deserved better than this.

“No! You actually let me go.” She insisted, much to the blonde’s visible relief. “You were focused only on Lila. And aside from getting people to help you hunt her down, you didn’t do anything to anyone else.”

If anything, the people of Paris seemed pretty happy for the excuse.

…maybe she really needed to talk to the Mayor about having a fun festival to just let everyone blow off steam?

She could focus on that later though. She shook her head and returned her attention to Rose. The girl still looked nervous, but less worried at least. That was good.

Rose sniffled. “I didn’t know. I’ve just been scared to see what my akuma did.”

“No one was hurt in the end.” Marinette assured her. “Ladybug came and stopped it. Nobody was hurt.”

Because Rose never really wanted to hurt anyone, she was sure. Even if it was Lila.

At most, maybe Lila got a little smokey smell to her. And a lot wet. But she survived. And without burns.

Rose seemed to slump in relief. “I’m so glad.”

And this…this right here was why it was worth it. Because the difference in Rose’s posture and expression within a few seconds meant a situation she could feel move on from versus a guilt she would be carrying with her all her life.

“I can't believe I almost did that! What did I become!?" Rose cried.

“You were akumatized. You were rightfully enraged by someone you thought was a friend taking advantage of you. Honestly, the only reason I didn't join in is because nothing about her shocks me anymore.”

Despite the attempt at reassurance, the smaller girl drew in on herself more. She rubbed at her eyes to wipe away tears and merely nodded at Marinette’s words. Hearing, but not fully agreeing. Or maybe it was the reminder that Marinette had known and tried to reveal Lila sooner to no avail.

Of all people, Rose didn’t deserve this. None of the classmates did, but Rose had been particularly trusting and was affected the worst because of this.

She couldn’t help it. She hugged Rose. If Adrien’s hug earlier had been so nice for her, maybe this could help the smaller girl in turn.

Rose certainly seemed to appreciate it as she hugged back…quite strongly, actually. Marinette had known Rose had some upper body strength given how she had been able to carry Chloe during the Zombizu attack but wow. Rose was smaller than Adrien, but her hug was just as warm but more tight.

Marinette lost herself a bit in the comfort she was giving and receiving. She barely even noticed that Adrien and Alya were still talking. She was peripherally aware that it was happening, but once again had lost track of what they were actually saying.

She had checked on Rose and made sure she was doing…well even if not fully okay. Maybe this was a sign she should go home?

“LIAR!”

It seemed it wasn’t to be, however, as a sudden commotion caught her notice, dragging her attention to a gathering down the hall.

And suddenly, Marinette was wide awake.

__________________

“—trusted me. Ladybug knew I would never do such a thing! That’s how she was able to ward off Witch Hunter.”

Lila giggled.

“You could say that the ‘power of friendship’ saved the day!”

Of course she was lying through her teeth once again. Not that she needed to at this point, really. Her mother was firmly in her corner and Lila would be getting to leave Paris soon enough. But there was a part of her that wanted to see if she couldn’t convince them one more time.

While she may not have a chance of getting revenge on Hawk Moth, she at least wanted some victory to take with her when she left. After all, Lila was hardly one to simply let things go and let this end without a last hurrah. No, if anything, when the chips were down, she was used to going all in. And if she lost? Well, not like it mattered if she wasn’t there to pay afterwards.

This time would be no different.

Truthfully, the only reason she was at the school at all was so her mother could file the paperwork to transfer her out. She hadn’t really wanted to go, but she had needed to be there to run interference in case anyone attempted to approach her. It had been part of the reason she had insisted on going despite her “harrowing” experience. Her mother had insisted on starting the process to remove Lila from the school immediately. And while she was sure no one would recognize the woman if she arrived alone, Lila knew she had to be there to “lead” the discussion between her mother and the Principal, as well as protect her mother from hearing any untoward rumors that could taint her view of her loving and trusted daughter.

Lila hadn’t intended to be caught by her soon to be former classmates. The original plan had been to simply disappear from their lives and leave them with their guilt and uncertainty. It was part of the reason she had agreed to come with her mother to the school so soon, as she had expected that everyone should be in class by the time they arrived. But her mother had gotten out earlier than expected, and people were still milling about the school.

She had kept her head down and hoped that no one would notice her. But luck was not in her favor it seemed, as Bustier had been late for some unknown reason, so her students had chosen to hang out in the hallways instead of waiting in the classroom or simply calling it a day and going home early.

A minor hiccup. She was sure that they would be forced to leave once class started. She separated from her mother with the pretense of saying goodbye to all of her friends, in the actual intention of simply buying time until the teacher returned and called them away. Her mother and Damocles had even seemed eager for her to, reassuring her that they did not need her and ushering her out of the room, which was all the more in her favor she supposed.

And really, how could she resist one more opportunity to see them dance for her?

After this, she would be home free. Not like they could do anything to her across international borders even if they did try.

There was no risk to her at this point. So It was worth pushing to see just how far she could milk this.

And these were the best saps a girl could ask for.

The present classmates listened to her tale of woe. Though  only a fraction of the crowd she would normally draw and not quite as eager as they used to, they were still listening to her patiently at least instead of simply blowing her off or calling her out. Which meant there was still a chance they would believe her.

A few of them actually seemed to be buying her story. And it had been one of her better tales, in her personal opinion. There were one or two that rolled their eyes—which, rude. A couple who seemed disinterested. But most of the rest seemed uncertain.

It was a shame Rose wasn’t there. Lila was sure that she would especially appreciate the performance. Though part of her was relieved, since she figured that the emotional girl would probably start crying if she had been.

Though there was also no Marinette either, which meant no one to counter her story as she had no doubt the little Miss Perfect would.

“You’re really saying that Marinette handed you off to the violent mob?”

That also meant she wasn’t there to defend herself either.

Lila hunched her shoulders and brought up a hand to her face in a nervous expression. “It’s not her fault. I’m sure it was because of the akuma. Even she wouldn’t turn on me like that just because she doesn’t like me…”

Cry her a river? She’d be seeing Marinette cry a river once she was done here. If she accomplished nothing else before she left, she would at least make sure Marinette Dupain-Cheng regretted talking to her like that.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t have done it if she was herself.” Mylene reached forward to comfort her but stopped a foot away and immediately decided to back off and keep her hands to herself. She coughed into her hand and looked away.

Lila frowned, scratching her head. What was that about?

She shook it off and kept to her plan. Play up the innocent act and leave them guessing until it was time to go. Whatever happened after that was their problem.

“I was so scared.” Lila whimpered. “Her expression at that time was…terrifying.”

Some more of the classmates looked sympathetic. Yet none of them approached her. Now that Lila noticed, there was a distinct space between her and the rest of the class. No one would come within five feet of her.

She hugged herself, looking the picture of wounded and helpless. “I was just lucky I was able to get away after she outted my hiding place to the mob.”

“LIAR!”

Everyone jumped to see a fuming Alya approach. A somewhat less visibly angry but still no doubt displeased Adrien was right behind her.

Both of them were focused completely on Lila.

Lila gasped, as if hurt. “What do you—”

“Can it.” Alya cut her off immediately, not even giving her a chance to spin some new lie. “You can’t be trusted, Lila. Or did you think we would forget about earlier?”

“That was a misunderstanding.” Lila explained, raising her hands in a peaceful gesture. “You weren’t here, but I had already told everyone what happened and why.”

“Oh really?” Alya asked, clearly disbelieving.

“She said that she was hit by an akuma before the attack today and only snapped out of it after Rose was akumatized.” Alix stated with a droll tone and an expression that said she didn’t believe it either.

Alya gave Lila a flat stare. “Do you actually expect us to believe that?” 

“It’s the truth.” Lila rested a hand over her heart akin to an oath before curling her fingers and drawing in on herself as if pained. “I was horrified when I woke up and realized what had happened.”

“Then where is the money?” Alya demanded. 

Lila resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Usually Alya would take her at her word, which was useful when others in turn trusted her for her reporting skills. It worked to her advantage when Alya believed her, but having those skills turned on her was a real pain.

“Hawk Moth must have taken it.” She suggested. It couldn’t be proven, of course, but it couldn’t be disproven either. And this group was particularly gullible and willing to believe the best in anyone regardless of common sense.

Except this time, apparently.

“If Hawk Moth needed money, we would be seeing akumas robbing banks, not stealing donations from teenagers for a fake charity.” Kim pointed out.

“He was probably being discreet.” Lila said hastily.

“Stealing money from a charity isn’t discreet!” Alya shouted, drawing even more attention much to Lila’s annoyance.

“Everyone already knows you lied and pocketed the money. The very least you could do is admit it.“ Adrien said, looking rather cross.

Of all the times for the doormat to actually try to stand up on his own, did it have to be now?

Lila gasped, looking hurt. Internally, she was annoyed more than anything. He was supposed to be passive. He’d never stood out like this before!

“But Adrien, you said we were friends, remember?”

It was a reminder of their “deal”. As well as a thinly veiled threat of what she would have free reign to do if that deal was broken. Not just to Marinette, but to him as well. After all, Adrien knew about Lila’s lies all along and did nothing. If he was going to out her here, she would be dragging him down with her.

“I said we were friends as long as you didn’t hurt anyone I care about!” Adrien corrected her. “And you have! You hurt Kagami. You hurt Marinette. And now you’ve hurt Rose!”

“Wait—dude! You knew?” Nino asked, looking hurt.

“I knew she was a liar.” Adrien admitted to everyone. He looked down in shame. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought…” He paused before shrugging. “Well, I thought a lot of things that were wrong.”

“Dude.” Kim muttered.

Ivan gave Adrien a stern glare. “You owe Rose. Big time.”

“Marinette, too.” Alya added, gesturing to the pig-tailed girl who had approached the group alongside Rose.

“I know.” Adrien nodded and turned to the two, even going so far as to bow lowly from the waist. “And I’ll accept any punishment if it means you will all forgive me for not speaking up sooner.”

He knew better now. The absence of overt conflict doesn’t mean that the problem is solved. He had thought he was fixing problems, but really, he was only dealing with symptoms.

Rose looked uncertain. She stared at Adrien, biting her lip. She was snapped out of her thoughts by a touch to her shoulder. Looking up in surprise, she saw Marinette and remembered that the other girl had still been beside her. Even now, she was acting as a support.

Marinette patted her on the shoulder and smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s up to you.”

Rose looked back to Adrien.

He hadn’t been the one who did it. But he knew…if not that Lila was lying, then at least that she was a liar. He knew and he didn’t say anything. Which…well, wasn’t AS bad as Lila actually lying, but still bad.

She frowned.

“I want your endorsement on the charity.”

“Done.”

“And a cake for the class as an apology.”

“Just tell me what flavor.”

“And for you to take Marinette on a date to a fancy restaurant.”

“I’ll check my sched—wait, what?” He asked, standing up straight.

Marinette covered Rose’s mouth before she could repeat herself.

“Just the first two will be fine.” She said, flushing with embarrassment. Because really Rose?

Rose, for her part, gave her an annoyed look but didn’t fight her. Nor did she attempt to keep up the demand even after Marinette released her.

“Are you sure?” He asked, holding up a hand to her as if in offering. “After everything, a nice meal would be the least I could do.”

Then he smiled.

And suddenly, Marinette’s initial willpower just took a hit.

“It’ll be my treat.” He promised.

Marinette felt herself heat up at that. He hadn’t seemed to notice the ‘date’ part of Rose’s statement, but seemed rather stuck on the idea of getting a dinner together and Marinette knew she shouldn’t, but she didn’t want to say no either…

The classmates were all grinning or sending each other knowing looks. Alya was getting her phone out to record for blackmail future wedding material. Rose was beaming excitedly. They were all glad that some good was coming out of this.

Except, of course, for Lila.

Any cheerful atmosphere or chatter immediately died at the way Lila cleared her throat. Somehow, she just seemed to draw all attention to herself. The others looked to her in question. But Marinette, who knew Lila well enough to know she was plotting something, only felt dread.

“But is that really appropriate?” Lila asked, innocently. She rubbed at her arm. “After all, you wouldn’t want Adrien to be leading on Marinette the way he did me.”

The others stared. “What?”

Marinette paled.

Oh. Oh, this was going down a bad road, she could feel it.

Adrien glared. “I never led you on, Lila.”

Lila chuckled cheerfully. “Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t intentional, of course. But taking a girl out to a fancy dinner would…well…certainly imply things. Especially if the girl in question already is enamored with you.”

He blinked.

“What?”

“She holds feelings for you.”

A moment’s pause.

“You mean…as a friend?” He asked.

…seriously? Was he not getting it?

“She is clearly crushing on you.” Lila stated flatly.

Adrien stared.

“…What?”

Lila sighed in irritation. “Why else do you think she always freaks out around you? The stammering? The nervous giggling? The weird statements that don’t fit the context?”

Marinette pulled at her pigtails in frustration. Because of course. Of-freaking-course Lila would sink this low!

Adrien blinked, then rubbed his chin. “I thought it was because of the way I kept surprising her? Like approaching her from behind. Or appearing behind her locker right as she closes it.”

Nino squinted at his friend. “Which I’ve been meaning to ask, how do you even do that?”

“Not the point.” Lila cut in before turning back to Adrien. “Seriously, Adrien, didn’t you wonder why she had all those posters of you in her room?”

“Because she’s a fan. She even told me as much.” He stated.

Lila stared as Adrien beamed at his Very Good Friend. “And it’s kind of nice knowing that a fashion designer like Marinette likes what I do. And looks up to my father.” He snapped his fingers in realization. “Hey! Maybe I could see if you can’t meet my dad sometime!”

Marinette smiled uncertainly and just…sort of nodded. “That sounds nice.”

Because really, what else could she do at this point?

Lila gaped in growing outrage.

Was…was he just going to keep ignoring her? To focus on…THAT?

“What? No! Adrien, she is crushing on you! Like…obsessively!” Lila exclaimed.

Adrien seemed to be getting annoyed with Lila’s continued interruptions, given the look he threw her. “Lila, do you really have to keep making things up?”

“I’m not making this up!”

“Yeah,” Alix said sarcastically. “Just like the charity.”

“And Marinette leaving you to the akuma.” Alya added, still clearly angry about that.

“And everything else you’ve ever said.”

Lila growled. “But this is true! And I have proof!”

With a smirk, Lila held out her phone, showing the picture she had taken earlier of the schedule inside Marinette’s room.

“See? Marinette has your schedule on her calendar!” She exclaimed.

Adrien frowned at her, disapprovingly. “Are you seriously making things up now just to make Marinette look bad?”

Marinette winced. 

He was really keeping his word and trying to support her. She knew in this moment that if she denied it, Adrien would believe her. And it may save face and protect her from any further humiliation.

As well as sticking it to Lila, which was always nice.

…But Marinette hated liars. And if there was one thing that this entire mess taught her, it was that great harm could come from lies. She didn’t want to give Lila any additional ammunition to use against her, but she knew it would only be worse if it got out later.

And she didn’t want to misuse Adrien’s trust in that way.

“Actually, I do have your schedule.” She admitted.

Adrien stopped in the middle of the lecture he was about to give Lila. He turned to her in surprise.

“What?”

“It’s just…you would mention certain activities or plans. Fencing. Tutoring. Lessons. And I would hear and add them to my calendar so I would be aware when it came to planning things.”

Silence.

Lila smirked in victory. So the goody-two shoes had a fault and was actually admitting to it for the entire class to see. Even Adrien’s protective best friend must be up in arms as he took Lila’s phone with the picture of the schedule to look it over.

Adrien, for his part, blinked as he registered the information.

“So you’ve kept track of all the events and scheduling I’ve told you about to add to your calendar?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

A longer pause. Marinette mentally kicked herself. Why hadn’t she just stayed home and avoided this mess?

Then he smiled. “That was nice of you.”

“What?” Marinette asked, stunned.

“What.” Lila less asked than stated. Shrieking even in her disbelief.

“Well, friends keep friends on their schedules.” Adrien said, nodding resolutely.

Lila stared, her eye twitching slightly.

But he paid her no mind, keeping his gaze on his very good friend.

"Can I see it?" He asked her.

Marinette blinked. "What?"

He was actually looking eager now. “That way I can fill in any gaps so we can choose better times to hang out!”

She flushed. This was not the direction she had expected this to go. And from Lila’s disgusted expression, neither had she.

Far be it from her to argue. Especially against Adrien’s hopeful puppy eyes.

"Okay."

“Great! I’ll come by your house later! Maybe we can play Mecha Strike while we’re at it.” He said with a smile that—gah, too bright! It would probably blind her if it didn’t make her heart explode.

Marinette blushed.

“Okay?” She agreed because really, what else could she do at this point?

"WHAT?!" Lila raged, her skin starting to turn red. "Why would you want to help her keep your schedule?! Isn't that creepy?!"

He turned to Lila at that with a frown. “But...she's my friend. I'm on her Personal Calendar with all the people she considers friends!" And she’d done this even before their talk today, so that meant she really did like him, right?

Lila rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Adrien! Who actually does that?"

Adrien shrugged. "Nino does."

A pause. Slowly, all eyes turned to Nino.

The cap-wearing teen realized the sudden attention he'd got and jumped back, waving his hands.

"Well, how else were we supposed to have hangouts with that schedule of his?" He defended before turning his attention to Marinette. “You’re missing his Chinese lessons by the way.”

Marinette turned to him in surprise. “What?”

“Yeah, also he has a photoshoot this weekend and in the middle of next week. And I see my schedule on there, too, but you don’t have my gig Friday.”

“Wait—you’re on her schedule, too?” Ivan asked, surprised.

“All of her friends are.” Nino confirmed.

Kim raised his hand. “Am I on there?”

“All of her friends are.” Nino repeated, and looked down at the picture of the calendar. “She has your swim meet for next Tuesday. And a plan to bring some of those tarts you like.”

“Sweet!” Kim exclaimed, giving a fist pump.

Nino nodded to Marinette before handing the phone back to Lila. “Plus Alya and I are having a date Sunday, not Saturday, so we won't need you to babysit. Might want to add that.” 

Marinette blinked as she just…tried to register everything.

“Oh. Okay.”

Apparently, that was becoming her default word as she was still trying to process how any of this was happening.

Alya stared at her boyfriend.

“So wait, you have Adrien’s schedule, too?”

“Of course, I do! Hangouts are difficult enough, but we also need to know what times we can video chat.” Nino shrugged. “How else do you think I knew when his dad was leaving? And how to get past his bodyguard?”

Lila gaped. She couldn’t believe this!

Even the other classmates seemed unbothered. Did they really have no concept of boundaries?

…of course they didn’t. They were teenagers.

The fact that Lila herself had commonly infringed on Adrien’s boundaries in a physical way on a daily basis and most recently violated Marinette’s boundaries specifically to find this information to use against her in the first place seemed entirely lost on her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? How are you okay with this? Are you seriously that stupid?” Lila demanded.

Adrien frowned at Lila, stepping in front of his friends. “Marinette and everyone else here are my friends. Of course, I care about them and would want them to know when I’m available—”

“You can’t possibly be that blind! MARINETTE. HAS. A. CRUSH. ON. YOU. She is so hopelessly in love with you that it’s pathetic!”

“Don’t talk about her like—”

“She has birthday and holiday gifts for you for YEARS!” Lila shouted. “HOW IS THAT NOT WEIRD?!”

The classmates blinked or jumped in surprise before all eyes turned to Marinette.

Why? Why was she Lila’s go-to target?

“I was just…I mean…” She stammered, looking down in shame and embarrassment.

The classmates seemed to be waiting for an answer. It seemed they were at least trying to give her the benefit of the doubt since it was LILA making the accusation, after all, and it was clear by this point that she was simply throwing out anything to make her look bad.

Hesitant, she looked up to see Adrien’s reaction.

And Adrien…oh god, he actually had tears in his eyes!

“Really? Is it true?”

Marinette jumped to try and explain.

“I—um—well—you see—”

His eyes widened. “I can’t believe it...”

“No wait! It’s not—”

Okay, yeah, she was a mess and had nothing.

“You felt so bad about missing my birthday that you’ve been making gifts for me ahead of time so you won’t miss it again!” He exclaimed, looking excited.

Which was okay, apparently, because Adrien had apparently drawn his own conclusions. As evidenced when he pulled her into a hug.

“You didn’t have to do all that, Marinette.” He said, giving her a squeeze. “I don’t hold it against you that you forgot my birthday. You didn’t know.”

A part of Marinette was screaming. Because oh, the irony. If only he knew…

Alya…out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Alya also looked like she desperately wanted to say something. Probably the truth about his scarf. Which now was a bad time to reveal.

“You have no reason to feel guilty for not getting me anything.” He told her, releasing her with a smile and patting her shoulders. “But I appreciate that you felt so strongly about it that you would try to get such a head start to make up for it. It means a lot that you care so much about me.”

Marinette…yeah, Marinette.exe has shut down.

“But that’s not...” Mylene started, only to pause for several seconds before frowning with a small wince. “Actually yeah, that does sound exactly like something Marinette would do.”

“Remember how she got Alya an interview with Ladybug after she accidentally deleted that video?” Kim chimed in.

Nino slapped his forehead. “Oh yeah! Alya went on and on about that for weeks!”

Alya—even Alya, her best friend, who knew full well about her crush and the gifts actually looked uncertain at the news. She bit her lip, looking back and forth between Adrien and Marinette in confusion and concern.

Because she remembered that Adrien’s father had somehow wound up with credit for Marinette’s gift to Adrien. She also remembered how Chloe had broken into Marinette’s locker and vandalized her gift to Bustier. Then there was the time Marinette made Adrien that hat but didn’t take credit for that either.

Marinette…just seemed to have bad luck when it came to giving people things, apparently.

So was it really any wonder that the girl would become that anxious over gift-giving? Or that Marinette, being Marinette, had gone so far as to prepare a multitude of gifts as backups in case something like her gift being stolen, lost, or vandalized happened again?

Alya...honestly didn’t know anymore. Maybe that was something she should try to help with more in the future.

Adrien for his part was simply basking in the glow of happiness that came with knowing how much his good friend Marinette cared about him. Nobody had the heart to argue with him. Nor did any of them even have an argument to make.

“Are you kidding? No one keeps that many gifts for one person in their closet! Can you possibly be that stupid?”

Except Lila, but after everything that had happened, no one was really feeling inclined to humor her.

“Since you’re bringing that up though, here’s a better question.” Alix cut in, giving Lila a glare. “How do you even know any of this?”

Lila drew back in surprise as she suddenly found herself the subject of glares from the rest of her classmates.

“I somehow doubt Marinette invited you into her room.” Alix continued.

“Her parents did!” Lila quickly explained, absently scratching at her wrist. “They invited me inside since the mob was after me.”

Okay, yeah no. Marinette’s brain had rebooted at that. There was no way she was going to let Lila implicate her parents.

“I already talked to my parents about what happened after I saw you wearing my clothes. They invited you into the bakery.” Marinette corrected angrily. “They did not invite you into my room.”

“It was an accident.” Lila claimed. “I had gotten lost, but once I realized where I was and what I was seeing, I just had to warn everyone—”

“‘What you were seeing’,” Marinette cut her off coldly, “should not have been seen unless you had been looking for them. I kept those gifts in my closet. The schedule was put away. The pictures were not visible from my trap door—which you should have realized right away would NOT lead you to any exit.”

Lila scratched at her neck. “Well, I hardly know anything about you since you keep me at arm’s length. Can you blame me for being a little curious?”

“YES.” Came the resounding echo from…well…nearly everyone. It was clear that nobody was buying anything Lila was trying to sell.

“You don’t try to ‘learn about someone’ by breaking into their room, recording what you find there, and sharing it with people!” Mylene ranted.

“It sounds like you’re trying to make Marinette look bad to distract us from your own actions.” Ivan said with a glare. “Because none this changes what you did.”

“You lied to us about the charity and EVERYTHING else you’ve ever said!” Alya exclaimed.

“Did you make up all those illnesses, too?” Kim asked, disappointed and disapproval evident in his voice.

“I bet you were the one who nearly caused Marinette to get expelled.” Alix hissed, leading more growls and angry muttering from the audience.

“No, I haven’t! It was just a misunderstanding!” Lila insisted.

“Was it?” Came a voice.

Everyone immediately silenced and all eyes turned to one person.

Rose stood tall. Or at least as tall as she could in such a situation. In truth, she was shaking. Her lip was trembling like she was trying not to cry. And she stared straight at Lila, almost as if she was gazing into her soul.

If it was anyone else, Lila might have been concerned.

But it was Rose. Poor simple Rose who always believed in everyone and would listen to anything she said without question.

It’d be easy enough to get back in her good graces.

And all it would take…

Lila sniffled, lowering her head. “I’m sorry.”

Everyone stared.

Marinette wanted to bang her head against something.

Lila rubbed at her eyes to give the illusion of tears. She even managed a couple of hiccups. “You were just all…all so amazing and I was scared about fitting in. I did embellish some things but I…I just wanted you all to like me.” She covered her face, effectively hiding her eyes.

“Things just spiraled out of control and before I knew it, I was trapped! I couldn’t be honest and I was so scared of what you all would think of me!” She sobbed out. 

Disregarding, of course, the fact that she had just tried to throw Marinette under the bus—and not for the first time.

Lila looked up at the group, eyes watery though no actual tears have been shed. “I never meant to hurt anyone.” She whimpered. “I just admired you all so much! I’m so sorry!”

They hesitated. Of course they did. They were easily played by emotional appeals. All she’d ever had to do was fake pain or sadness and they would fall over themselves in response before any true logic or reason could set in.

And of course, Rose of all people stepped forward.

The small blonde rested a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes, with what had to be some form of reassurance on her lips.

Leave it to Rose to forgive any transgressions and be willing to start anew. She was always the first to offer reassurances. The first to believe in someone. The first to support a good cause. If anyone would understand and show sympathy, it would be her.

“I don’t believe you.”

That…was not it.

Rose stepped back from Lila, her nose scrunched in disgust. She backed away a good couple of feet. She even wiped her hands on her dress—or attempted to, until Mylene handed her some hand wipes. As if touching Lila had been filthy to her.

“Is even touching me that bad?” Lila asked, acting pitiful.

A long pause. Several of the classmates glanced between each other. They all seemed to want to say something, but couldn’t seem to bring themselves to.

“You stink.”

Except for Juleka, who was glaring at Lila.

Lila gaped.

“What?”

Did…she mean that literally or was she just being juvenile?

Kim actually pinched his nose. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to say anything, but you kind of reek.”

Lila clenched her fists, her anger growing and her skin starting to turn red. “How dare you?!”

"Like...you stink...and you stink. Figuratively and physically." Kim said, sounding nasally with his nose plugged.

“Kind of smells wet and musty.” Nino muttered.

“I was thinking it smelled more like a dumpster.” Mylene noted.

“It’s probably her soul.” Alix muttered, shooting Lila a dark glare.

Marinette gasped and spun on Lila. “Wait! Lila, didn’t you jump in the Seine earlier?”

Lila flushed, embarrassed at the reminder and the realization that her shower earlier had only done the bare minimum for her hair. “It wasn’t by choice!”

The other teens gave Lila disgusted looks.

“You…do know the Seine isn’t the cleanest, right?” Ivan asked.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Lila exclaimed. “It was that damn Ladybug who splashed me with water!”

Several of the classmates bristled at that and the insult to their city’s hero.

“She was putting the pyre out.” Alya countered, looking up the video on her phone. “Otherwise you would have been burned. And then you would have died. And none of this would even be up for discussion right now.”

“Really, you could show a little more appreciation for Ladybug rescuing you.” Adrien said, narrowing his eyes at Lila. “Even if she wasn’t your best friend.”

He knew she wasn’t. He had been there when Ladybug herself had confronted Lila on her lies, so of course he knew that they weren’t friends. Not that anyone else did. But the reminder of that particular lie and Ladybug’s recent threat brought out a level of fear within her that she hadn’t experienced before.

She could almost swear that she felt Ladybug’s gaze on her.

Lila silently fumed momentarily but forced herself to calm and steady her nerves.

Remember, she was still the one in control here. Not the school. Not these classmates. And certainly not Ladybug!

She closed her eyes and let out a breath.

Oh well. She gave it a try and it didn’t work. An annoyance, but ultimately, no real loss. She was still leaving. And they had nothing they could pin on her.

Rose was the one who collected the money. The school and teachers were the ones who hadn’t verified her paperwork. Gabriel had been the one to hire her to spy on his own son. Hawk Moth had been the one to use her. And Ladybug had been the one who didn’t protect her.

Really, wasn’t it their own fault?

“If that’s how you all feel, then I’ll just leave.” Lila said, looking away in a manner she was sure looked dejected. Such a look would normally lead people to feel some pity for her and some remorse for anything they had done.

Here though, it just made her look petulant.

None of the classmates were impressed. Several looked ready to argue. Maybe to even try to brave the stench around her and force her to stay and admit to her acts.

Except…

“The one thing I don’t understand though is why did you keep doing it? Why all the lies?” Rose asked.

“Yeah,” Alya agreed. “Looking back, your lies were all over the place and didn’t amount to much. Not until the fake charity scam, anyway, and you were bound to get caught. What was even the point of it all?”

What was the point? Was she serious? It was everything.

Lila rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Like any of you would have really cared about me if you hadn’t thought I had something you could use.”

They all just stared at her incredulously.

“Um…but we would have.”

Lila paused, blinking in confusion.

“What?”

Rose brought her hands up. “We would have liked you regardless, Lila! You didn’t have to lie!”

“And even if you do lie,” Mylene continued, “we still could have forgiven it and liked you anyway.”

“We may not have been happy about being lied to, but we could have understood. Maybe even helped.” Ivan stated, rubbing his head.

Marinette stepped forward. “I told you before Lila. We could be friends when you stopped lying.”

Lila stared at her. Was she serious?

That was…

Lila gaped at them all in disbelief. None of them argued. Many even nodded their heads in agreement.

She couldn’t believe it…

That was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard!

Who actually forgives people for things like that? Even little acts that seemed weird were often enough to turn people off. Even good qualities like leadership, prioritizing, and professionalism could be twisted and used against the person. This was supposed to be a world where any flaw should be enough to ruin someone and warrant raking them over the coals!

And these idiots were just…fine with it?

Honestly, it was no wonder she was able to get away with so much! These idiots were practically begging to be manipulated!

Lila forced tears to her eyes. “You would be willing to forgive me? Just like that?”

“Well, not now, no.” Adrien said, finally speaking up.

Lila stared. Because…this was Adrien. Adrien Agreste who was Paris’s Sunshine Child and seemingly incapable of holding a grudge. Or standing up for himself.

And…he was going to refuse to forgive her?

“I figured your initial claims about knowing famous celebrities was just to make people like you. We could have forgiven you for that.”

His eyes narrowed.

“But then you used your lies to hurt people. And in ways you had to go well out of the way to do.”

“What?! No, I didn’t—”

But he cut her off.

“You tried to get Marinette expelled. You stole from all of us and made Rose’s charity work into a criminal act. And while we’re at it…” He drawled, making Lila nervous. “Maybe we can discuss how you’ve been spying on me for my father?”

Lila tensed briefly before putting on a wounded expression.

“That was just the akuma making things up!”

“Yeah, I spoke with my father about that.” Adrien continued, sounding…particularly cold. “Oh, and by the way, you’re fired.”

“Fired?” Lila balked. She clenched her fists and her shoulders raised in growing ire. “What do you mean ‘fired’?!”

Adrien steepled his fingers together as if he was trying to think. “Um, how else can I say it? You’re being let go. Your department’s being downsized. You’re part of an outplacement. We’re going in a different direction. We’re not picking up your option. Take your pick. I’ve got more.”

She grit her teeth.

She’d known from her call with Nathalie earlier that they were firing her. Part of her had believed that it was simply due to Witch Hunter’s control. But if that was the case, they shouldn’t remember it now. Though it could be that they remember the initial claim from Witch Hunter that brought them under her influence, but even then, there wouldn’t be any proof.

No…this had to be intentional. Given her suspicions of Gabriel, she had considered that he would cut ties, but to do it like this? Through Adrien? In front of everyone?

Oh. She was going to make him pay.

Outside of Lila’s thoughts of revenge and misery, the classmates realized something about Adrien’s totally cool and not at all corny or referenced speech.

Kim stared. “Dude…did you really just…”

Nino held up a hand. “Let him have this.” He wiped away a fake tear. “I’m so proud.”

Muffled chuckling from others indicated that they all knew what he had been referencing.

Except for Marinette, who was looking around in confusion. Because sure, Adrien was being cool just then and it was kind of funny to see Lila get some comeuppance, but what was all the snickering for? “Wait…what was that about?”

Adrien spun on her in shock. “Wait—you’ve never seen Emperor’s New Groove?”

Marinette blinked, uncertain. “Um…no?”

He took her hands in his, looking so serious that this had to be a matter of grave importance. “We must rectify this immediately. Will you come watch the movie with me? Father is being unusually lenient about things to make up for everything with Lila that he’ll probably allow a hangout this weekend.” He smiled. “So would you like to binge watch movies together?”

Oh. Oh, Marinette thought she was over this. But clearly not as she felt her face flush and her heart leap into her throat. Her brain was short circuiting because this was…this was a date with Adrien? ANOTHER date with Adrien? THREE dates with Adrien? That she hadn’t even had to be the one to ask him for? Just what is life right now? Was this life? Was this a dream? Lila finally outted as a liar and Adrien agreeing to spend time with her…this felt like a dream.

At best, she was only able to nod. And Adrien’s smile in response was near blinding. She didn’t even notice the way their classmates grinned or gave each other high fives.

…or the way Lila was turning red in her growing ire. 

Lila scratched angrily at her neck. Hard enough to leave marks.

Not only did he fire her, but now he was ignoring her and just flirting right in front of her?! It was bad enough she was revealed and chased around for the past few hours thanks to an akuma. Then betrayed by Hawk Moth. And then threatened by Ladybug. But this…this was just adding insult to injury by this point!

She wanted to say something—anything to break up this delightful little scene and wipe that happy look off their faces.

Sometimes, spite overcame reason.

“Oh please!” She shouted, drawing everyone’s gazes away from the cute scene and back to Lila where she was pointing at Adrien in anger. “The only reason he’s firing me is because I know he’s Hawk Moth!”

A long pause.

Alya looked at Adrien before turning back to Lila, eyebrow raised. “You mean Adrien?”

The blond in question paled and drew in on himself. It wasn’t true, but what if she brought up some ‘evidence’ like his tendency to disappear during akuma fights? Would anyone else believe her? Especially given how he’d messed up before and inadvertently helped Lila to create prime akuma material?

“Adrien isn’t Hawk Moth!” Marinette insisted, looking angry, and Adrien felt a combination of relief and admiration for the girl.

“Yeah!” Nino agreed, wrapping an arm around Adrien’s shoulders and holding out the other hand in front of them like he was trying to ward off Lila or perhaps her stench. “Don’t be talking about my boy like that!”

“Wow.” Kim muttered. “You’ve told some bad lies before but that takes the cake.”

“Shame on you, Lila!”

Lila reared back in shock at the direction this went. “What?! NO! I meant Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth!”

But people were just…rolling their eyes and looking away from her.

She held her hand to her chest in earnesty. Her other hand went to scratching her side, which kind of spoiled the effect. “He knows I’m a threat and he’s trying to discredit me!”

A long pause.

“You’ve already discredited yourself, Lila.”

“Yeah, it sounds like you’e just saying anything at this point.”

“She’s just mad that Mr. Agreste is letting her go.”

“After everything she did, I don’t blame him.”

“The guy os a jerk, but come on. Hawk Moth? Really?”

No one was even considering what she had to say now. If it wasn’t clear before, it was now.

Lila had lost any credibility.

Several of the classmates were gathered around Adrien, trying to support and comfort him over the accusations. She had a feeling that even if she had irrefutable evidence, they still wouldn’t believe it. Not now, anyway. It grated at her, but at this point, there was nothing she could do.

There was nothing she could do and she had just wasted her last trump card to no effect. And if it got back to Gabriel that she had accused him…

All the better to get out now then.

“Hey, wait!” Alix shouted as she noticed Lila trying to sneak away. “We’re not done here!”

Honestly, it was perfect timing that the teacher arrived to start class.

“All right, class! To your seats!” Bustier said, smiling nicely in her usual fashion.

And it looked like that would be the end of it. With Bustier back, there would be no further pressing of Lila. No retribution. No way to hold her accountable.

Alya for her part tried though. She raised her hand and called out insistently. “Wait! Ms. Bustier! Lila has been—”

Bustier shook her head. “I’m sorry, Alya, but it will have to wait. We’ve missed part of the school day as it is.” She paused and turned to Lila. “Oh, Lila! Your mother and the Principal are waiting for you in his office.”

Lila smiled politely. “Thank you. I’ll head right there.”

This was it then. A final meeting and she would be out of this school and out of Paris.

…though maybe after she takes a more thorough shower first, she thought to herself as she scratched at her neck.

Still, she couldn’t help but send one last smirk back at her now former classmates as she walked away. She hadn’t managed to pull them back under her sway, and she couldn’t say she had won.

But she could at least find some satisfaction in the growls and shouts of anger as she left them behind.

__________________

In the Principal’s office, the adults had a…rather interesting conversation of their own once Lila had departed.

“Good heavens! I didn’t know how much longer I could stand that smell.” Principal Damocles asked as he opened a window to try and freshen the air.

Amara Rossi took her seat in front of the desk, feeling a bit lightheaded herself. “Did something happen today? Science class? Chemicals, perhaps?”

“It could have been an akuma attack. We had one just earlier.” He replied.

Her eyes darkened. She was reminded of the constant prolonged akuma attacks that disrupt daily living and the inept superheroes who allowed them to persist. “I see. That will be one thing we will no longer have to worry about once we leave, at least.”

“Quite right.” He agreed kindly as he went to his files to pull out Lila’s paperwork. “I do hope that Lila’s new school will be better suited to accommodate all of her illnesses.”

Amara shook her head, uncertain of what she just heard. “I beg your pardon?”

“Of course we did try to adjust to Lila’s needs as we were made aware of them. Especially with her little…fibbing illness. But it was difficult without official documentation to clarify what she had and the best ways to address them. And we were never able to get clarification during her stay here.” He rested the paperwork on his desk and looked up to make eye contact with Mrs. Rossi. “We of course are not judging, but it would be prudent for you to make the appropriate arrangements prior to her arrival at her new school, wherever it may be.” He puffed up in pride. “And of course we will be more than happy to assist in sending over documentation as well—”

“No wait. Hold on.” Amara interrupted him. “What needs are you talking about?”

Needless to say, once Lila was out of the room, it didn’t take long for them to notice things weren’t adding up. And the conversation that followed ended up being…

“What tinnitus?”

Quite informative.

“What fall down the stairs?!”

With certain parties being made aware of things they hadn’t known previously.

“WHAT LYING DISEASE?!!”

By the end of it, both adults were in shock.

Damocles wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, clearly…unnerved to say the least. “I…erm…take it that some of these things might have been said…er…erroneously?”

Amara covered her face with her left hand, exasperated. “Unless my daughter has been under an akuma’s influence for the past several months the school has been closed.”

He frowned at that, unnerved. “On that note, I’ve been trying to reach out to you for some time about your daughter’s absences. Have you not gotten my calls?”

“I only received one or two. And Lila warned me not to answer because you were akumatized.” She paused in thought for a moment before lowering her hand and looking to the Principal. “Has the school been closed at all? Lila said you had been akumatized and that the school had been shut down, which was why she had to stay home for so long.”

Damocles blanched at that. “It was only the once! Well…twice actually, with the attempted mass akumatization during that one incident. But I assure you, madam, that the school was never closed. Certainly not for more than a day at any rate!”

She frowned, unsure. “But…the heroes…”

“Are quite adept at their job for youngsters!” Damocles hurriedly told her. “Akuma battles are normally finished within a couple of hours. Some have lasted overnight at most. There is only one to my knowledge that continued for a few days, but that was a rare exception and the damage was minimal.” Though the harm to Chloe’s mental state couldn’t be quantified.

“Oh…” She murmured. Wow. While Lila’s complaints had dampened her view of the city’s heroes, she had known her coworkers and the city at large seemed to admire them greatly. She regretted that she had never really listened to their gossip about them, but she was grateful she had never spoken up on what she had believed. Otherwise she would likely be a laughing stock at work.

He shook his head. “But no akuma has lasted for months, I assure you! In fact,” He said, reaching to his monitor and turning it so that they both could see the screen, “the Ladyblog should have all the facts about the akumas and our heroes!”

Amara observed the blog, curious. It was well made. Perhaps they could get the designer to help update the embassy site.

But on point, the blog listed news reports and updates. Hero sightings. Events. Akuma attacks. And in particular, the most recent attack…

“Wait!” She gasped. “Is that Lila?!”

From there, it had been a simple matter of reviewing the footage from the latest akuma attack.

Including the incident where Lila had shoved an innocent girl to the ground in front of the mob. (“That would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. A bright student and the Class Representative. But…er…she and Lila haven’t quite seen eye to eye and there was an…incident a few weeks ago…”)

As well as a compiled list that had been taken of every claim made by the akuma—Witch Hunter? She was apparently a classmate of Lila’s. And according to the Ladyblog, she had been a victim of Lila’s lies, which had resulted in her akumatization and targeting of Lila. (“My word!”)

And worst of all, a video of Lila tied to a pyre and surrounded by a mob of people wanting her to burn. In and of itself, it was horrifying. Especially for any parent to see their child in such a state.

But for Lila…it was like she didn’t think it was real. Like she didn’t think she was in any actual danger. Or she thought this was a game.

And that, Amara found most terrifying.

“This is…” She muttered in shock. She couldn’t even begin to describe it. Her daughter, tied to a pole. About to be lit on fire. All because she had been lying this entire time? Not just lying, but stealing from her peers? Framing people? And she didn’t dare say it, but from some of her statements in the video and the akuma’s claims, it almost looked as if she had been working with a known terrorist!

She had known her daughter wasn’t perfect or innocent. But this much? To go this far? And for what? She couldn’t even begin to understand…

“Madam, I…think this is a most serious matter.” Damocles stated. He was trying to be delicate but…well, really. How can one approach this sort of thing delicately?

“I agree.” She stated, resolutely. “Lila has been playing everyone it seems. But now that we know, what should we do from here?”

Damocles stroked his beard as he thought. “I admit we have never had a situation this extreme before. But if you will permit, I believe there may be a way to approach this…”

The rest of their time was spent discussing the matter at length and coming to an agreement. Damocles admittedly had his failings, particularly when it came to stubborn and selfish students with access to parents in positions of authority and willingness to abuse that authority to get their way. But when he wasn’t having to work around such barriers and had parents who were actually working with him instead of obstructing the school regulations, it was substantially easier to make appropriate accommodations and plan accordingly.

Which is what Lila ended up walking in to once she was asked to return to the office.

“Is everything settled?” She asked sweetly, her expression belying her earlier anger. Honestly, her only concern was finishing this as quickly as possible and going home to shower. A good three or four times.

She forced herself to ignore the way the adults in the room turned their heads away from her with upturned noses. She took advantage of the moment and attempted to unobtrusively scratch under her arm. Honestly, this itching was only getting worse! How had she not noticed it earlier?

“Well, Lila.” Damocles coughed as he turned on a fan. “Your mother and I have been discussing things and we couldn’t help but notice a few discrepancies.”

Lila froze. She steeled her expression to hide her rising panic. Because no. Not here. Not after everything.

“Lila…” Her mother called, her tone harsh and warning of her slowly boiling anger. “You told me that the school had been closed. And here I come to find that not only had it still been open and running all this time, but that you had been excusing your absences with claims of trips around the world!”

Shit.

Why had she left them alone?!

“But there were akuma attacks!” She insisted. “And the school was closed!”

“Not for weeks at a time!” Her mother exclaimed, furious. “And what is all this I’m hearing about your actions since you got here? Lying to your teachers? Stealing from a charity? Getting another student expelled?!”

Here, Lila straightened. “She had been bullying me and I had only been trying to protect myself.”

“Then why did you claim a lying disease to have her brought back?” Damocles questioned.

Lila hugged herself to look sad and sympathetic—and also used the opportunity to scratch at her side again. “I was threatened.” She admitted morosely. “Adrien said—”

“Adrien? Adrien Agreste?” Her mother interrupted. “You mean the boy you said was your boyfriend?”

Lila hesitated for a moment before a plan came together and she nodded. “Yes. It was why I wanted us to leave Paris. He’s been harassing me, Mama.” She shuddered and hitched her breath as if in fear. “He threatened me if I didn’t take back the allegations. He’s been cheating on me with her, Mama!”

“Interesting. Very interesting.” Her mother said in a blithe manner that only made Lila more nervous. “Because according to this Ladyblog, it sounds like  you were the one harassing him. As well as this Marinette girl, regardless of whether she is his girlfriend or not.”

Lila snapped up and gaped at her mother. The woman never bothered with the Ladyblog. Lila had been sure she hadn’t known it even existed!

“You can’t trust the Ladyblog! It’s just a teenager’s fan site! It’s nothing but lies!”

Her mother glared down at her. “Like this informative interview of you claiming to be Ladybug’s ‘bestie’?”

Lila paled.

“I was only trying to get people to like me and make friends.” She said, lowering her head in shame. Not that she had any, of course, but it paid to look the part at least. “I didn’t think anyone would see it.”

“Lila, the Ladyblog is extremely popular. It’s a central news source for anyone in Paris to know what the most recent update is regarding any akuma attack! Anyone would have seen it!” Damocles exclaimed.

“Even if it wasn’t,” Her mother continued. “You still shouldn’t have been claiming things like that! What if Hawk Moth saw it and thought it was true? What if he tried to kidnap or hurt you?”

She wasn’t worried about that. He wouldn’t have harmed her since she was working for him.

Well, Lila realized with a small wince. Not anymore.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” Lila said, looking away.

“Getting back on point.” Damocles interrupted. “There is the problem regarding all of the days you’ve missed. Your teacher was led to believe that you were out of town while you had informed your mother that the school was closed. This is a serious matter, young lady.”

There was no way to lie that she hadn’t done it now that both of them were aware and on to her. But she could still try to reframe things in her favor.

“I’m sorry. I had just needed a break for a while and I didn’t know how to tell you.” Lila spoke, tearfully. “It was just…all of the akuma attacks and everything with Adrien and the bullying…it was too much!”

She sobbed into her hands.

“I just couldn’t take it! I’m sorry!”

She continued her sobs for a good minute. Since she had her face covered and her head lowered, she couldn’t quite see how the adults in the room were responding. Sneaking a peak got her a glimpse at best lest she risk them seeing her.

Her mother looked drawn. The Principal seemed tired. Neither of them so much as tried to get closer to Lila to comfort her. Though that may very well have been due to the smell, and she cursed Witch Hunter and Ladybug both for causing the situation in the first place and for not fixing this with the Magical Cure as well.

Really, she thought hatefully. This was all their fault. Rose’s. The class’s. Hawk Moth’s. And especially Ladybug’s. She never would have ended up in this position if not for her!

“I’m sorry, Lila. If you were truly having such trouble, then you should have spoken to one of us about it and we may have been able to help you.” Damocles sighed. “I’m afraid there’s nothing else for it now. It’s already gone much too far for us to be able to overlook.”

Amara nodded, resigned. “I understand.”

Lila sniffled and raised her head.

“So I guess I’ll be expelled?” She asked with a mournful tone.

Okay. All right. So she would be sent to another school somewhere. A boarding school perhaps? Some sort of alternative or otherwise stricter school meant to “rehabilitate“ her, no doubt. She could handle this. It was still someplace new where no one would recognize her. It wouldn’t take too much before she could just start over. Within two months, no one there would even really know why she had transferred.

She could still make this work for her.

Damocles, however, looked at her in surprise.

“Expel you? What are you talking about? We don’t expel students for truancy.”

Lila froze.

“What?”

“You will be suspended for a time.” He continued. “Though I believe given the nature of your actions, it would be better for your suspension to be altered so you remain on campus and under constant supervision.”

Lila stared. She would swear she could hear cracks forming in her reality.

“And we will have to keep you in a separate classroom as well to remove any...distractions.”

Crack.

“Of course.“ her mother agreed. “I’ll be removing her computer and phone for the time being as well. Depending on how things go, we may have to dispose of them altogether.”

Lila felt her eye starting to twitch.

“This will be an opportunity for you to catch up on all the coursework you missed.”

Crack.

“And there will be a hearing as well.” Damocles continued. 

Lila jumped to her feet and slammed her hand on the desk.

“But—but you expelled Marinette immediately without a hearing!”

Damocles appeared flustered at that. “My actions at that time were…admittedly hasty, especially considering that it turned out they were based on a lie...” He gave her a sharp look at that. “But given what appeared to be dangerous and escalating behavior at the time, I had only acted in a way to protect the other students in this institution.”

He clasped his hands. “But less school is not the appropriate answer for a student whose crime was skipping school. Especially in this case given that Lila may very well need to be held back a grade as it is.”

“What?!” Lila demanded.

He gave her a dry look, unimpressed with her reaction or the repeated interruptions. “Young lady, regardless of your reasons, you’ve missed months of your precious education. Surely you didn’t think you would be able to graduate alongside your classmates. At this point, you won’t be able to get the approval from the conseil de classe to move on to the next grade, much less be prepared for the brevet.”

Lila blinked. “The what?”

Her mother groaned and covered her face. “It’s the mandated test required in secondary school into get your diploma, Lila.”

Lila gaped, glancing back and forth between the two, as if expecting this to be a joke. “But…college in France is just scuola media! It’s middle school! How do they require a diploma?!”

“It’s a national requirement and certification of the knowledge and skills acquired.” Damocles explained, ignoring the way mother and daughter were reacting as he instead puffed out his chest and straightened his jacket. “And we here at Francois-Dupont are dedicated to our students and making the appropriate accommodations to help them succeed! Regardless of any…”

He paused, sending Lila a look. “Complications.”

Amara sighed but faced Damocles. “So what would you recommend?”

He brightened at that. “The best answer to get young Lila back on track would be an alternative remedial program in which she can remain in school and make up for what she missed in a setting where she can be more closely monitored to keep something like this from happening again.”

Remain here? In Dupont? With everyone aware of her lies?

“You can’t do this!” Lila shouted. But to no avail as the adults paid her no mind at this point.

“What about the fraud?” Her mother asked. “I believe she had solicited funds under false pretenses?”

“Oh, that is outside our jurisdiction.” Damocles answered, waving it off. “We can only deal in school and school-related matters. Fraud is a legal issue, so that will be going to the courts as a separate case. But on that note, I would recommend getting a lawyer.” He said, turning serious.

“Hopefully, that won’t be necessary.” Amara replied. “As we will be making arrangements with the students who started the charity and reimburse the funds Lila took.”

“WHAT?!”

“Returning everything you bought with the money to the stores you purchased them from should be a good place to start,” the woman continued, “assuming they will even accept the exchange once they know what you did. Which you will be telling them if they didn’t already know from that akuma.”

“But…but I don’t have them!” Lila exclaimed, suddenly realizing that she had worn Marinette’s clothes back home and left her designer items at the bakery.

“Then you will just have to find some other way to make up the lost funds.” Her mother stated, dismissively.

Lila stomped her foot, the picture of a child throwing a tantrum. “But that’s not fair!” 

“You stole money from your classmates, Lila!” Her mother bit out sharply. “Giving back what you took is the very least you could do!”

“But I can’t pay it!” Lila yelled, scratching at her chin in fury.

“Then you can use your now copious amount of free time to take on some extra employment. Because you won’t be sitting around at home doing nothing or getting into more trouble while I’m not there. And you certainly won’t be going out with your friends—assuming you have any left after this mess.”

“But…where am I supposed to find employment?!”

Her mother looked through her tablet and pulled up a number of listings when she then handed to Damocles to print off. “There are always openings for extra hands. Odd jobs. A part time job. I don’t care if it’s something like washing dishes at a diner, you will be doing it. And whatever you earn is going to go to straight into the bank until you pay back every euro you took.”

Lila gasped. “I’m fourteen! That’s child labor!”

“That didn’t seem to be an issue when you were modeling for the Gabriel line without telling me.” Her mother countered, growing more furious.

Lila glared back, enraged and for once incapable of speech.

“Whatever you have to say, this is your own fault for stealing the money in the first place. And also using it when you knew it wasn’t yours!” The woman shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t even understand how you thought that was supposed to work.”

“We were supposed to be out of Paris already!” Lila muttered darkly.

Unfortunately for her, her mother heard her well enough. “Which I suspect was the real reason you suddenly wanted to leave, wasn’t it?”

Lila stayed silent. Merely sitting petulantly and scratching at her arm.

Her mother looked down at her daughter. She had never seen her like this before. And now that she knew what the girl had been up to, she wondered if she had been blind to the truth. And for how long.

She sighed.

“You dug yourself into this, Lila. And you won’t be running away from it. You are going to pay back what you took, no matter how long it takes. If this does end up going to court, you are going to agree to any deal they offer and you will make this right. And if you are very very lucky, they will accept your apology and your return of the money, and not pursue harsher charges. Because if they do, you will be accepting those charges and any consequences that come with them.”

Damocles coughed, daring to interrupt. “Am I to presume she will be losing her cellphone and laptop as well?”

“That would be a given.” Her mother replied. “Though at the rate this is going, I may very well sell those off as well to contribute to her debt.”

“What?!” Lila screeched. “But how am I supposed to do schoolwork then? Or keep in contact?”

“With pen and paper like everyone else. And you won’t need to worry about contacting anyone since you are going to be grounded for the foreseeable future.”

Lila groaned and sunk further into the office chair. She tried to keep her arms crossed, but couldn’t hold it for longer than a couple seconds before she felt the itchiness again and started scratching at her arms once more.

“And would you stop scratching yourself?”

“I can’t help it!” Lila cried, spilling real tears for once.

The lighting in the office was decent. Adequate to see by, but not quite enough to get a full detail of what they were looking at. In an attempt to help, Damocles turned on his desk lamp and moved it shine on Lila, putting her skin in much clearer display.

And particularly, the red and splotchy areas that were slowly spreading on her body.

“Good heavens!” Damocles shouted as he went to his phone to call the nurse. “That is an extensive rash, dear girl!”

Her mother grabbed her arm to look closer. “What did you do? Take a bath in the Seine?”

“I didn’t have a choice! I was being chased!” Lila exclaimed, attempting to pull her arm out of her mother’s hold so as to scratch more.

“That…would explain the smell.” Damocles noted before the receiver picked up and he quickly turned his attention to requesting the school nurse’s assistance.

“Did you at least wash it off? Didn’t you shower when you got home?” Her mother asked, exasperated as she had to keep hold of Lila’s arm to prevent her from scratching herself.

Lila hunched over. “No. I had to call you first.”

Her mother groaned in response, much to Lila’s irritation. She glared up at the woman who should be reassuring her own child in this hardship but instead was merely shaking her head at Lila like this was something she had simply brought upon herself!

How could she?! What sort of mother would be so cruel?

She barely paid any attention when the nurse entered the office with some ointment in hand. She only realized what they were doing when they started to slather the gel on her skin, which felt gross and humiliating. Made all the moreso with the way the nurse and her own mother couldn’t fight the looks of disgust at the smell that still covered her. Even Ladybug calling her out in front of Adrien hadn’t been so humiliating.

But it would get worse.

Damocles coughed. “We will resume this discussion another time. Madam, if you are willing, I can arrange a meeting with the students involved and allow you to discuss reparations in an informal…non-court setting.”

“If you please, that would be preferred. In the meantime, I will be taking Lila home so we can deal with all of…” She paused, waving her arms around and trying to think of the right words before simply shrugging with a sigh. “This.”

“Wait! I can’t go out there! Everyone will see me like this!”

It was perhaps out of some love as a mother, or just some small mercy that had Amara Rossi agree to take her daughter through a roundabout path out of the school. One that allowed Lila to take hallways that were less used and offered less visibility in and out of the classrooms.

And most importantly allowed her to avoid Bustier’s class.

After getting instructions from the school nurse regarding skin care to get rid of the rashes, Amara thanked both Damocles and the nurse before taking Lila outside. The two made it to the front of the school with few being there to witness Lila’s ‘walk of shame’ so to speak. It was probably more than Lila deserved, but her mother was hardly cruel. Tough when she had to be, certainly.

There was now just the final leg of the trip. Amara started down the steps of the school and made it to the bottom before she realized her daughter wasn’t following her.

“Lila!” She hissed. “Get down here!”

“But…” Lila hesitated, looking up and behind her to where Bustier’s class would have a perfect view of her exit.

“Now, Lila. Or do you still want to be out here when classes are over?”

Lila forced herself to move down the steps—both as quickly as possible to try and lessen the amount of time anyone had to see her and as carefully as possible to avoid anything touching the ointment on her skin.

“When we get home, the first thing you’ll be doing is taking a shower to clean yourself properly this time. We will be going through your room as well and taking back your laptop, your phone, and anything I even think you may have bought with that stolen money.”

Lila grumbled but didn’t argue.

“Yes, mother.”

At this point, she just prayed no one had seen her.

__________________

They saw her.

“Is that Lila?”

“It is! And her mom!”

“What’s that on Lila’s arms?”

“Oh. Wow.”

Bustier had stepped out of the room for what she said would be a minute while leaving the class with some assignment to do until she returned. Naturally, given the drama of the day, no one was really able to focus on the schoolwork. So instead, they took to quietly chatting with one another. Or in Alya’s case, nudging Marinette repeatedly as the girl tried to wrap her head around the prospect of having a date with Adrien.

No, THREE dates. Wait—were they dates? Like…date-dates?

Fortunately for her own peace of mind, her imagination was put on hold by the exclamations of those near the windows. Helpless to the draw of wanting to know what all the fuss is about, Marinette and the others on her side of the class joined those at the windows to see just what it was about Lila that had grabbed their attention.

And she had to say: Yikes.

“That has to be the worst rash I’ve ever seen.”

“Looks like that dip in the Seine did not agree with her.”

Marinette winced in sympathy.

As Ladybug, she had a few instances of having to make use of the Seine or the sewers as an exit, so she knew full well how nasty the water could be. The suit and resulting Cure would normally rid her of any of the water or contaminants or so Tikki said, but that didn’t stop Marinette from taking a good long shower afterwards. Or three. Just to feel clean afterwards, despite Tikki’s reassurance.

What happened this time?

She looked down to her purse, but the little clasp remained resolutely closed. Even when she tried to pull at it.

Tikki...what did you do?

“I feel kind of bad.” Rose murmured, resting a hand on the window. “She only jumped into the Seine because of me. Because I had everyone hunting her.”

“I don’t.” Alix replied. “You were only after her because of what she did.”

Nino nodded in agreement. “Yeah. And if the info on the Ladyblog regarding Lila’s crimes are any indication, she may have been doing it to help Hawk Moth.”

“We can’t prove that, though.” Ivan noted.

Rose hugged herself.

Marinette hugged her as well. “Whether or not Lila deserved it, it happened because of Hawk Moth. Not you. So please don’t blame yourself, Rose.”

Adrien came up next to them and rested a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “If we try to question who is truly at fault, we’ll be dragging this out forever. All we can do at this point is try to figure out where to go from here.”

“Hey, that’s right!” Mylene realized. “Rose, what are you going to do about the charity?”

Rose looked down. “I don’t know. It’s kind of pointless now since we don’t have the money anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t try again.” Nino reassured her.

Adrien nodded in agreement. “Plus Alya and I were talking earlier. If you still have the ledger of the funds, you could try to bring up charges against Lila to get the money returned. My father has some attorneys our company frequently uses for any legal issues. I could see about getting one of them involved to find out how to proceed on this.”

“Dude, seriously? Is your dad cool with this?” Nino asked, completely taken aback that the man would do such a thing.

“It’s only the beginning of what he could do to make up for his part in this.” Adrien muttered.

Nino blinked at his friend and his…strangely dark expression. Then he grinned and slapped Adrien on the back. “Good for you, man!”

“But what about Lila though?” Ivan asked.

“Murder?” Juleka asked.

Which of course, none of them took seriously.

Right? Right.

“If Lila’s mom’s attitude is any indication, I don’t think Lila will be getting away with the theft.” Kim said, looking out the window in the direction the two ladies left. “She looked maaaaaaad.”

“She is angry from what I have heard.” Max said from his seat. He didn’t look up from his tablet and was the only one aside from Nathaniel to not move from his desk. “Apparently Lila had been lying to her mother and the school about why she’s been absent for months. And then with the theft on top of that, plus all of the other things revealed thanks to Witch Hunter, I believe there is a 97.3% chance that Lila will be grounded for the foreseeable future.”

“Wait. How do you know that?” Kim asked.

“Markov told me.”

“Oh.”

A pause.

“And…how does HE know tha—”

Max simply disregarded him and turned to Rose. “You should probably discuss the matter with Lila’s mother. It sounds like she is taking the issue seriously and would like to meet with you and work this out appropriately.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” She said with a smile. Albeit a somewhat wary smile.

“So there may be a chance to get the money back then?” Ivan asked, hopefully.

“But wait—what about Prince Ali?” Alix realized.

This brought all eyes to Rose, who looked hurt at the reminder of her friend cutting off ties with her.

“Rose…” Marinette started.

She winced. “I…still have his email. I don’t know if he’ll talk to me, but…I can apologize. And I can try to make it right. I think…” She took a breath. “I think I understand now why he was so upset. He’s a Prince and must be used to a lot of people trying to use him.”

She hesitated, looking down.

“Lila was…probably that exact type of person. And she was able to use him through me—even if she didn’t know it.”

The others winced.

Yeah, it was probably a good thing they learned about Lila now before it got too serious. Who knows what would have happened if Lila had ever actually gotten to meet him? Or really any of the other celebrities they actually knew.

Rose bit her lip for a moment, then looked up. “I’ve been thinking…if I do get the money back…since the charity Lila had told us about doesn’t exist, we can’t donate the money as planned. I would like to give the funds to a charity with a similar purpose—I even found one that looks genuine and does a lot of good, but…” She frowned. “That’s still misleading to the people who originally donated.”

“So what will you do?”

“I have a log of everyone who donated since I had wanted everyone to get credit or some sort of ‘Thank You’ for helping. I can try to reach out to them and ask them what they want to do.” She brightened slightly. “Alya is also helping by putting a notice on the Ladyblog about what happened and what we’re doing so that anyone who did donate before can be alerted and know to contact me.“

Alya smiled. “It seems to be working so far. If anything, I’ve been more messages from people wanting to donate as well.

Mylene gasped in delight. “You may end up with even more funding for your charity, Rose.”

“Just as long as we make it clear it’s the real deal this time.” Alya agreed. “I posted the charity’s info on the website as well as some links to verification sites so people can check for themselves that it’s real. This way, we don’t run into the same problem we had with Lila or get accused of lying ourselves.”

Well, that was a relief. They had a plan and they were certainly taking this seriously.

“I’m glad for you, Rose.”

Rose smiled back. “Thank you. I know this doesn’t really fix everything, but it feels like the right thing to do.”

“Aww!”

The group hug that commenced was just what they all needed.

__________________

Tom and Sabine had quite the busy day. Especially with that girl who had come in earlier and snuck into Marinette’s room.

And the akuma. Though they were at least getting used to daily disruptions caused by those.

“I hope nothing came of it.” Sabine worried as she was finishing putting things away. “I’m sure she was doing something up in Marinette’s room.”

“I’m sure if anything happened, Marinette could handle it. And if she couldn’t, she would let us know.” Tom replied as he headed to the laundry room to put away their used aprons and towels.

There was silence for a bit.

Then…

“Honey?”

Sabine paused and turned towards her husband. “Yes, dear?”

“Did that girl ever come back with Marinette’s clothes?”

Confused, she started towards the laundry room where her husband was. “No, why?”

Tom turned to her, with some items in hand. “I think she left her things behind and the Miracle Ladybug Cure didn’t send them back.”

Sabine stared. “Oh my!” She reached forward. “These look practically brand new!”

“And expensive.” Tom added.

The two looked over the items before looking up at each other. With a nod, they seemed to come to the same conclusion.

“Early birthday gift for Mari!”

“We’ll take it to Roger.”

…not…so same conclusion, evidently.

Sabine gave Tom a flat look. Tom smiled embarrassedly and rubbed his head.

“Yes. We can take it to Rodger as part of the case.” He agreed, sheepishly.

Sabine sighed and shook her head.

“Though maybe we can discuss it with the school.” She mused. “Since that girl is a student there. And some of the things on the Ladyblog are a bit concerning…”

“Should we still press charges?” Tom asked, worried. “Let’s wait and speak with Roger tomorrow. And see what Marinette has to add.” Sabine said, taking the items from Tom and placing them in a safety box where they wouldn’t be mistaken as common items.

…or early birthday gifts.

__________________

Taking the Dragon Miraculous back to Fu was easy enough.

Apologizing for beaning him with a pot was less so.

“It is all right, Marinette. Really.” Fu assured her as he took the box back from her and restored the choker to it’s rightful place. “With the Miraculous Cure, I no longer have the injury.”

Marinette winced from her seat at the table. “Still, I feel really bad about it.”

He shook his head. “You did what you had to. The akuma’s influence was widespread by that point and the situation was dire.”

Especially since her kwami and the Guardian himself had both been affected as well.

He wouldn’t say he…approved with her methods. Or the headache it had caused him. But it had allowed her to defeat the akuma and restore things in the end. And truly, that was what mattered.

“It took a lot of strength from you today, Marinette. I am proud of what you accomplished.” He told her as he returned the Miracle Box to its hiding place.

“I just wish I could have helped Rose more.” She murmured.

“You did everything you could, Marinette!” Tikki insisted.

“It is difficult, but sometimes there is only so much that can be done, even with the aid of the Miraculous.” Fu returned to his seat at the table. “But I sense that is not the only thing on your mind today. Am I wrong?”

Marinette gasped. “Oh, Master! There’s something we’ve discovered today. Something really important!”

Tikki gasped. “That’s right!”

The two nodded to each other and spoke at the same time.

“Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth!”

“Adrien invited you to see a movie!”

Marinette froze, turning red at the reminder.

Tikki, for her part, blinked at Marinette in confusion.

“Wait…you mean what Lila said earlier?”

“That’s right.” Marinette said, turning her attention to Fu and away from any distractions of stupidly cute blond boys. “Earlier today, Lila tried to claim that Gabriel Agreste was Hawk Moth.”

Fu frowned. “Marinette, are you sure about this? Lila Rossi was Hawk Moth’s accomplice. As well as an unrepentant liar. This may be a lie as well.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Lila tells lies if she thinks they’ll benefit her, but she’ll tell the truth if she thinks it could serve her more.”

Yeah, she knew that much from Lila’s attempt to sneak into her room and get dirt on her.

But more than that, Hawk Moth had betrayed Lila. After working with him all this time, someone she had…at least trusted she could use if not actually trusted had turned on her. And was even outright going to let the akuma kill her.

If Lila could be so spiteful for this long over Ladybug simply telling someone she had lied about knowing her, she couldn’t put it past the girl to not hold some grudge against Hawk Moth as well. And if she thought she knew who he was…

Well, if all else had failed her, there was no reason at that point not to try to reveal it.

“It would explain her connection to Gabriel Agreste as well.” Marinette reasoned. “He was a known recluse for a year before Adrien started school. He would keep Adrien from any events. Refused to let his friends come to visit him or for him to visit them. And wouldn’t even let Adrien have a birthday part.” She frowned, tapping her chin.

“So why would a man like that who is so protective of his son trust some random teenage girl with Adrien’s well being? Especially one he has never met who lied to his staff, forced her way into his home, manipulated his son into a photo op,” Not that she was bitter of course, “…and snuck into his personal office?”

Fu frowned, considering her words. “That is strange.”

“Exactly!” Marinette said, pushing closer to the table in earnest. “Even if she didn’t know he was Hawk Moth at the start, she still tried to get to him because of his control over Adrien. It was a connection she knew she could use, so it would benefit her. Which is Lila’s MO.” She said with a roll of her eyes.

She shook her head. “But this would explain why he would seemingly trust her. If he was Hawk Moth, that means he akumatized her before. Three times, even!”

Fu nodded. “The powers of the Butterfly would have let him know what she was like. If she was a willing assistant as Witch Hunter’s scroll proclaimed, he would have known.”

Tikki gasped. “It could also explain the mass akumatization when you had gotten expelled!”

Marinette gripped the table in growing anger. “They must have planned it! How else would he have known to have it ready?”

“Calm yourself, Marinette.” Fu reached out to place a hand over her own. “This is a good theory, but you don’t want to open yourself to an akuma. Especially not after everything that has already happened today.”

She wilted at that. “You’re right, Master. I’m sorry.”

“That is all right.” He assured her with a kind smile. “It is healthy to feel emotions, but you cannot let them overcome you.”

“But…” She hesitated. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

He paused for a moment, thinking it over as he took a sip of tea. “I had suspected once before that whomever had the Grimoire likely had both the missing Miraculous as well. After Gabriel Agreste had been akuamtized, I had wondered as you did whether it was simply coincidence.”

“Because the Butterfly user can’t akumatize himself, can he?” She asked.

He gestured to the tablet containing the translated Grimoire. “Normally, I would say not. But as you have learned, there are ways around any barrier. And as coincidences increase, at some point, we must ask how many coincidences are necessary before something is proven true.”

He smiled. “One such coincidence may be that he had the lost Grimoire. But another may be how convenient it was that he should be akumatized immediately when anyone may be suspecting him after its loss.”

She frowned, uncertain.

“Let us think on it for now, Marinette. And it will be best if we keep an eye on both Gabriel Agreste and Lila Rossi in the meantime.”

“Yes! Thank you, Master Fu!” She nodded before getting up and heading to the door.

“Goodbye, Master! Goodbye, Wayzz!” Tikki chimed before she flew into Marinette’s purse.

As Marinette walked down the street towards home with Tikki in tow, she continued to think over things. What she had learned. What Master Fu had told her. What she had experienced throughout the day.

“Oh!” She gasped as she realized something.

“What is it, Marinette?” Tikki asked from within the opening of the purse. They were mostly alone for the moment, so they could afford to speak if they did so quietly.

“Something I’d been meaning to ask you.” Marinette told her. “What happened with Lila today? The Cure normally fixes things to how they were before the akuma, so why was Lila covered in a full body rash?”

“The Cure sometimes acts in mysterious ways.” Tikki replied.

Marinette frowned. The answer was obviously vague. And Tikki’s refusal to meet her gaze indicated she knew more than she was letting on.

“Tikki…”

“Oh, look at the time! You should be getting home, Marinette!”

“TIKKI!”

__________________

Rose looked over her draft for what had to be the thirtieth time.

Excessive, maybe. But she wanted to make sure she was doing it right.

Ali,

I do not know if you will read this letter, or if it has even been permitted to reach you. At the very least, I am hoping for a chance to tell you from the bottom of my heart:

I am sorry.

While I had never meant to harm you, it doesn’t change the fact that you were harmed. And this harm could have been prevented had I been more cautious.

I could come up with any number of reasons as to why I chose to put my trust in the wrong person. The girl I had thought was promoting this charity was my friend. I wanted to believe the best in my friend. But that is no excuse.

If I truly had respect for you as a friend and as your station of Prince, I should have done my due diligence in ensuring the honesty of anyone I trusted. Especially before I tried to encourage you to trust them as well.

You were right. It was foolish of me.

From your perspective, it must have seemed as a sign that I did not take your friendship seriously. And I am deeply ashamed that I ever allowed that impression to anyone, but to you most of all.

If you choose not to forgive me, I understand. But I at least want you to know that I am going to make this right.

I am pursuing legal options against the girl in question. I do not know how much we will be able to see returned, but I fully intent to refund the donations to you and everyone else who had trusted me to do the right thing.

This may not fix anything. And you do not owe me anything from it. But I hope I can at least try to make up for my mistake and be the person you believed me capable of instead of the fool she turned me into.

Thank you for everything,

Rose

She took a breath.

Okay.

This was it then.

Any last words? Any final changes? Any regrets?

…no.

She shut her eyes and clicked ‘send’.

And finally exhaled. With the air, she breathed out all of her anxieties, fears, and doubts.

She had done what she could.

She was doing what she can.

That was…that was all anyone could expect of her.

All that she could expect of herself.

…

…

…

That didn’t make it not ache though.

But there was nothing for it now, she realized as she turned away from her computer to go to bed.

She wanted to fix things. Desperately so. But she couldn’t force Ali to accept her apology and forgive her anymore than she could force Lila to be honest.

Rose curled up under her covers and hugged her pillow close.

It was a small comfort. But one she was going to allow herself.

She hoped for the best. She always did.

But even if he didn’t…she would move forward and continue doing good. Just as he inspired her to.

She just…

A couple tears fell.

She had just wished he would be around to see it.

It would take another hour before she would fall asleep.

…

…

…

It would be another three hours before an email alert came up on her computer.

__________________

Ugh.

Lila fell onto her bed, huffing angrily.

This whole day sucked.

She was attacked by an akuma. Everyone turned on her. Hawk Moth was going to let her die. And even when everything was saved, everything was ruined.

Thanks, Rose. Thanks, Hawk Moth. Thanks, Ladybug.

And now she was stuck here in Paris and couldn’t even get away from any of it!

She groaned into her pillow. She couldn’t be too loud, though, as her mother was being annoyingly alert and “keeping an eye on her” now. The last thing she needed was to give her reason to suspect something was up and cause her to come barging into her room.

There was no escape this time. Not now that everyone knew.

She’d still have to deal with her class. Even worse, she’d have to see Adrien and Marinette making eyes at each other.

She’d still have to deal with the school. And now that they knew what she did, she wouldn’t be getting away with anything again.

She’d still have to deal with Hawk Moth, and his akumas would still be a risk for her, as well. She wouldn’t put it past him to try to take her out. What little power and control she had was gone now.

And worst of all…

…Ladybug.

That measly little bug and her damn threat against her. To follow her. To keep an eye on her. To be her…special friend.

Like she would really do that.

Lila turned over in her sheets, settling into her bed and getting comfortable.

Or trying, at least.

Something felt off. She just didn’t know what.

She glanced around her room. It was much more barren now since her mother had cleared out a lot of her belongings. Her laptop and cellphone were gone, as was the limited light they provided in the dark.

She huffed and turned over to face away from the door.

Half asleep, she glanced out the window.

Two glowing blue orbs were staring back.

She screamed.

__________________

A creak of a window opening and closing.

A giggle.

“Huh? Tikki? Zzat you?”

“I’m fine, Marinette. I was just checking on something.”

A yawn.

“What was it?”

Another giggle.

“Nothing important.”

Two blue eyes sent a glare out into the city.

“Nothing at all...”

[bosspigeon]

if you're still bleeding

Pairing: Jax/M!Merc

Words: 2657

Summary: Jax should know better. He should know to mind his own damn business. But, unfortunately, he's well beyond "knowing better" now that he's gone and gotten tangled up with an unhinged mercenary with more knives than sense, and the scars that say the chances of him finding any sense are slim to none.

and if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones.

'cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone.

we're setting fire to our insides for fun.

collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home,

it was a flood that wrecked this home.

- "Youth" by Daughter

CW for: implied/referenced sex, sexual humor/innuendos, references to blood, violence, and trauma, and implications of kink

Knox is a man with scars.

Jax has plenty of his own, of course, but Knox has a lot of scars. There's a story to most of them, too, and he's never shy about telling them. Hell, half the time he tells those stories completely unprompted, whether you want him to or not.

There's a scar on his chin from where Royal told him he couldn't knee slide the entire bar. There’s the ugly knot of scar tissue where his left arm used to be, where the port to his prosthetic is grafted on. There's the scar in his stomach from the mook Jax had to help him bury. There's a scar on his lip where he bit himself too hard with his freakishly sharp teeth trying to keep quiet while Jax bent him over the hood of his car outside Saints and Sinners in the wee hours of the morning.

He's particularly happy to blab the story about that one to anyone who'll listen.

But he doesn't talk about the scar across his throat.

As little clothing as he tends to wear on the day to day, ("As little as I can get away with," he says with a sleazy wink) his neck is always covered. High-collared shirts, a jauntily knotted scarf, decorative chokers and heavy leather collars always keep it covered. He'll flash his tits before he'll show his throat—but in all fairness, it's not really all that hard to get him to flash his tits.

Jax didn't even see the scar until the fourth or fifth inadvisable hate fuck, at which point he was beginning to think he didn't hate the merc quite as much as he thought, considering he kept letting the little bastard in when he showed up at the door out of nowhere—and didn't shoot him when he decided to forgo the door entirely and come in through the window. (Jax still can’t be sure how he even got to the window, seeing as Jax lives in an apartment well above ground level, but he figures he’s better off not asking.) He didn’t think to ask about it until he’d actually lost count of how many inadvisable hate-fucks there’d been, and when they’d progressed somehow from inadvisable hate-fucks to still pretty inadvisable but otherwise amicable casual fucks.

Knox was loose and relaxed, quiet in a way Jax didn't even think was possible when they first met. And, to think, all it took was shoving him face down into the pillows and thoroughly wearing him out. Usually, he rolled out of bed as soon as his legs could hold him again, commandeered Jax's shower, and used half a bottle of his expensive conditioner before he disappeared without so much as a thank you. This time, he stayed. He sprawled gracelessly across Jax's sweat-stained silk sheets, arms stretched over his head, eyes half-closed and his ever-smirking mouth curled into something softer... almost sweeter.

Jax doesn't know what possessed him to roll over, to reach out and touch, but he did. He started at the inner thigh, the bruises he'd left with teeth and then fingers, a rumbling of possessive pride stoking the banked coals of satisfaction in his belly. His knuckles skimmed the soft curve of the merc's belly, the angry red scar tissue of that knife wound, then higher still. Inked into his sternum is a coyote skull, surrounded by boldly outlined flowers that curve along the underside of his breasts. Jax was almost surprised by the softness of the design, especially in comparison to the rest of the merc's ink, like the crude stick-and-poke perforated line and little pair of scissors right above his prosthetic, or the dirty pinup of some generic muscled pretty boy on his bicep, or the peach on his inner thigh that bears an artful addition of a T-dick very much similar to Knox’s own.

He wondered vaguely if the flowers meant anything to Knox.

Before he could dwell on the uncomfortably tender direction his thoughts had taken, his fingers travelled upwards, flicking absently at one of the heavy, angular piercing through Knox's nipples. Knox huffed a rough laugh, watching the progress of Jax's hand through eyes narrowed to dozy, yellow slits.

He traced Knox's collarbone, and his body was all but melted into Jax's bed, soft and pliant. Like he belonged there.

And then Jax’s curiosity got the better of him. He saw the scar, a thin line, pale with age, but standing in stark relief against Knox's tanned skin. It sits at a bit of an angle, slicing across the middle of the merc's throat.

The second his fingers made contact, skimming that raised line of flesh, he knew he'd fucked up.

Knox's body went taut for a split second, and that was all the warning Jax got before Knox was twisting his wrist hard enough for the bones to grind together and snarling in his face like a wild animal. If his knives weren't two rooms away in his discarded pile of clothes, Jax knows he would have lost fingers.

For once, Knox didn't say anything. For once, he was dead silent, mouth a grim sneer, eyes flat and hard. He shoved Jax roughly off him and rolled out of bed. He didn't look back once, stalking out of Jax's bedroom naked, every inch of his compactly muscled body vibrating with tension. Jax heard the rustle of clothes, the jingle of buckles and zippers and a half dozen knives, and then the front door slamming shut.

He didn't see Knox again until Orla called them in for another job, and it was as if nothing had happened. He was his usual smug, annoying self, not a single break in his usual facade of irreverent humor and Napoleonic bravado.

And maybe some of Knox's reckless stupidity is rubbing off on him, because Jax can't shake the curiosity that grips him, even now. He shoves it down, naturally, because he doesn't want the batshit merc to get twitchy on him again when he's got enough knives on him at any given time to outfit a military squadron. Hell, for all Jax knows, that's the end of it. He's not going to go crawling back to Knox (even if the sex is really fucking good—it's always the crazy ones, isn’t it?) and he knows Knox won't come to him first.

Except he does, dragging Jax into one of the back rooms after a meeting with Orla, shoving him against the wall, and dropping to his knees. Things go right back to normal after that, or as normal as they ever are with Coyote Fucking Knox. And as normal as they can be once Orla oh-so-sweetly reminds him there are cameras in the back rooms, and if he doesn't want stills of his dick forwarded to the entire Mirage gang, he'll keep his and Knox's exhibitionism where she doesn't have to see it.

So Knox continues to invade Jax's privacy, steal petty shit from his apartment and/or pockets, and loudly demand that Jax fuck him hoarse (-er) if he wants him to shut up.

And he winds up tangled in Jax's sheets again, sprawled out on his belly with one leg tossed over Jax's thigh, his face smashed into a pillow, one smug yellow eye watching Jax try to catch his breath beside him.

He could let it be. It's not like this is anything but a convenience. Some fun between… well, they're definitely not friends. Coworkers, if anything, and even that's pushing it. For a while, Jax considered it a fair trade for dealing with Knox's bullshit constantly. Now, it's becoming a pattern, and when it comes to semi-regular sex with a stab-happy mercenary, patterns can be dangerous.

But he can't kill the curiosity.

He figures his best bet is being blunt. And maybe getting ready to dodge in the very likely event things go south. He doesn't touch this time, at least not where they aren't already, Knox’s knee between his legs, the skin feeling a bit feverish and clammy as the sweat cools. The urge to touch is still there—he left some nice bite marks on Knox's shoulders he'd like to reacquaint himself with—but he ignores it for now. He rolls onto his side, meets that one yellow eye with quiet consideration, and props his head up on his hand.

Knox must read the change in his face, because he goes from cat-got-the-cream contentment to a warily curious tension. Jax just goes right for the throat, so to speak. “Any chance of hearing the story behind that one?” he says, casual as anything, and nods in the vague direction of Knox’s neck.

There’s a growling noise building up behind Knox’s teeth, but he bites it back. He smiles, but it feels feral, like an animal baring its teeth looks like a smile, but it's really a threat. It looks brittle, like it'll shatter if he tightens his jaw any further.

Jax gives in to the urge, reaching out to touch, fingertips skimming down the mercenary's spine. A shiver ripples across the skin. He’s not sure if it’s the right move, but at this point, if you’re going to Hell...

“I don’t know,” Knox says flatly, and Jax is almost shocked he answered at all. There’s no inflection, no mirth. Just that broken-glass smile.

Jax snorts. Knox never fucking shuts up, that much is true, but Jax isn’t stupid. He knows when someone’s talking a lot and saying nothing of importance on purpose, and he also knows when Knox can’t deflect, he lies his ass off like he was born to do it. Even Orla barely knows anything about her least favorite favorite merc or where he came from, though the chances of her caring enough to even try to find out are slim to none. Still, he has no idea what the mercenary even has to gain from lying, especially here. "If you don't want to say anything, just tell me to fuck off."

The knife edge smile stretches wider. Tips closer to the breaking point. "Fuck off," he echoes like a parrot.

Something starts to uncurl in Jax's gut, something burbling and acidic, a nasty niggling feeling he can't quite name. "You're serious," he says, and he doesn't want to believe it, mostly because he can't imagine someone like Knox taking that sort of… personal unknown well. “Nothing?”

The smile cracks, and Knox lifts his head so Jax gets the full effect of it. His eyes are wide, wild, and suddenly that smile is too big for his face. Slowly, he sits up, and there's the scar. Old and faded, but splitting his throat neatly and boldly from east to west. He drags his thumb across it, digs it in hard enough the white scar tissue goes a bit pink. He laughs. He's never had a pleasant laugh, rough and raspy and mean. Somehow, this one is worse. “Not a lick,” he drawls, and the effort it takes him to sound so casual almost makes Jax cringe. “There’s a reason Orla found me in the fuckin’ bargain bin.” He taps his temple, his messily painted nail clicking against the chip in his head.

Jax’s eyes flick down to the scar, frowning deeply. It doesn’t make sense. Knox is deflecting again, he has to be, but there’s something in the way he’s holding himself, the tension radiating from him, the way he slumps against the headboard of Jax’s bed with his knees pulled up, not quite close enough to hug to his chest, but more like he’s thinking about it, resisting the urge to physically hold himself together and risk looking weak.

"I have nightmares, sometimes," he admits, so soft the syllables catch on the rough edges of his ragged voice. "They never make any fucking sense. I'm just… I'm choking. Something’s cutting into my neck, and there’s someone behind me, and I know them, but— But I'm guilty? I don't know for what." He laughs, bitterly brittle. "Could be fucking anything. Got a lot to be guilty for that I can remember, never mind what I can't."

He inhales, and it sounds like it hurts him, like his breath is made of shards of glass. He drags his hand down his face until he can curl his fingers around his throat so the scar doesn't show. "I just know there's this perfume Orla wears that makes me want to climb the fucking walls and I don't know why. I think I know how to play the piano, but I can’t even look at one without wanting to smash it to pieces. Sometimes I hear some… some fucking opera song, or some shit? And I know the words, and I want to sing along, but then my voice just—just cracks, and I feel like… like a broken fucking wind-up toy? It's like my head doesn't remember anything, but the rest of me does and it makes me so fucking angry. What am I missing? Why does it matter?” His voice hitches dangerously, and there’s a stab of panic in Jax’s belly, his hands twitching like they want to—to reach out? “Why can’t it just leave me the fuck alone?"

Knox squeezes his own throat so hard the skin dimples around his fingers and bleeds white where he’s cutting off bloodflow. His shoulders tremble. There's something in the furrow of his brow, the twist of his mouth, that says angry isn't the only thing it makes him, but he either doesn't have the words to say it, or he just won't, not even to himself.

The silence falls again. Jax always thought he preferred silence where Knox was concerned. Turns out he was wrong. This silence is brutal, heavy and choking and just… wrong. When Knox does see fit to break it, it's with a loud exhale that almost makes Jax start.

"Would you look at the time," the merc says loudly, shaking out his bare wrist and looking at it critically. Jax could almost laugh. Knox tosses his legs over the edge of the bed smiling crookedly over his shoulder. "I should really head out, huh? Don't wanna overstay my welcome."

Before he can think, Jax snaps a hand out and catches Knox’s hip, squeezing. Not enough to stop him if he really wants to go, but enough to give him pause. Once again, Jax counts himself lucky they rarely make it to the bedroom before one or both of them are naked, which means all those knives are somewhere by the door, or scattered across his coffee table, or in the leather jacket tossed over the back of his couch. Coyote turns slightly, just enough to eyeball him. Just one yellow eye.

There's a lot Jax could say, a lot he even wants to, but there's something raw in that one yellow eye, something wary and broken that just wants to hide somewhere quiet and lick its wounds. They've been at this for way too fucking long at this point, Jax should know what to do with that, shouldn't he?

Maybe he does.

He snorts. "When the fuck have you ever cared about overstaying your welcome?" He smacks Knox's hip just on the wrong side of gentle, and rolls over. "You're not leaving until you help me change these sheets. Hell, maybe if I'm feeling generous, I'll let you back in bed after we shower."

He pushes up to his feet and stretches out the kinks in his muscles, allowing himself to luxuriate in the pleasant soreness leftover from their romp. Knox is quiet behind him, and he can't really think of when he actually started to trust the crazy bastard enough to turn his back to him.

Knox makes a rough little sound, something not quite a laugh. "Is that an order, Sir?" he asks, low and raspy-sweet.

Jax glances back with a raised eyebrow. "Do I need to make it one?"

[monkey-network]

Why Klaus IS Christmas Kino

Klaus isn’t flawless, let’s get this out the way. My love for this film won’t deny that it bears a couple nits that can distract the experience. Jesper and Alva’s relationship felt like an eye-rolling inevitability, notable cliches here & there, a notable song felt both fitting and out of place, and while enjoyable, I’m not as big a fan of the climax as I thought. But in spite of it all, I love this film and it is one of the best modern animated Christmas films, period? Follow me here. I could go on about its wonderful animation cuz yeah, it’s unlike any other film. But a philosophy of mine is that the best animation enhances the writing and I can say Klaus is that surprisingly well written and has become an all time Christmas fave

*deep breath in* So let’s do this...

I mention that Klaus has its cliches, but you gotta know that it’s smarter than expected. Believe me when I say if the writers didn’t care, this could’ve actually been so much worse. Jesper could’ve been more manipulative towards everyone for his goals, Klaus would’ve given up entirely after knowing the truth about Jesper, we could’ve had an argument between Jesper and his dad about upholding business, the townsfolk could’ve reverted back to their old ways, plenty writing moments where this could’ve been Emoji Movie levels of insulting to your intellect. BUT, they don’t. The film never really turns back on itself, it keeps moving where, as the notable quote goes, an act of good will sparks another as it starts with Jesper’s father.

Even if nepotism was responsible for Jesper getting the job in the first place, he clearly sees his son be more spoiled than he’s worth so is like, “Ma boi, I will send you to the ends of the earth or leave you to the streets if you don’t do something with yourself.” He never cared about his son representing the postal company, or ruining his top class image, he was only tired of Jesper taking advantage of his fortune while not having any ambition of his own. Can’t help but say Jesper’s dad is a very respectable character because the sole reason the whole plot happened in the first place was because he just wanted his son to do better. It’s that act of genuine consideration that pushes Jesper to his wake up call as he reaches Smeerensburg.

People have compared this movie to Emperor’s New Groove through Jesper’s character and I say yes, but this film takes that next step and put Jesper in the pit of pits way early. Reminds me more of Ratatouille’s beginning where Remy’s lowest point is around the same time as Jesper’s. The harsh atmosphere of the island is treated very blunt in how this is our mailman’s nightmare come true. With his situation, our guy is truly at his lowest. Gives up now, he’ll be cut off his inheritance and probably will have worse. Everyone hates him and each other, his post office itself is in shambles, symbolic of how communication is practically thin outside conflict, and the teacher turned fish seller Alva is that path Jesper could notably be if he didn’t try. Everything is literally grey for this guy, but like Ratatouille, when you’re at your lowest there’s no where else to go but up. That’s where Klaus comes in...

This is genuinely the most clever interpretation of Santa I know, hands down. A well established woodsman, a crafter both of living, for him and the birds that reside in his woods, and recreation with the toys he made himself not just for kids, but specifically the kids he and his wife wanted but couldn’t have. Klaus feels like a real person, not just another take on the mythical man. You’re with him and Jesper as he, after familiar winds provide him a letter, a small spark to do something good, soon opens up and gets reminded of what’s kept him going all these years. It is no wonder he sees his wife in Jesper, it’s thanks to him that he could refurbish his dashed dream into a new one. He didn’t just want to do it for the children of the island, but for himself. That is another thing about this film: communication. I mention before how it’s practically thin at first due to a long going feud that isn’t even aware of why it’s still going. The joy in hate is only for hatred’s sake, and they make it very clear how miserable it all feels. That is where Jesper comes in. They don’t take shortcuts with how he gets the ball rolling, both accidentally and purposefully, he boots up to get things done, pushes himself to go to Klaus to make things happen. This is all in part by the youth, what really ties the plot together...

As I mentioned before (again), life in Smeerensburg is noticeably miserable but thanks to Klaus, by extension Jesper, the kids are enticed to do what it takes to get some genuine joy in their lives through the toys they’re able to get. They’ll make them letters, and if they can’t write, they’ll go to Alva for teachings, and if they act naughty, they’ll try to do good which in turn pushes the adults to do good for the sake of their kids. It really would’ve been one thing to sure enough make the kids spoiled because of the toy giving, focusing more on the extrinsic value of Klaus’s kindness but no. The children are very grateful for these gifts enough to feel compelled to do good, and it makes them feel good as much as it soon makes the adults more convinced to stop fighting. It helps that this all takes place in older times cuz I believe this would’ve been far different, possibly worse, if this took place in modern times. That or just kinda rip off Arthur Christmas, it’s my guess. As such, it gradually becomes an amazing Christmas film because it isn’t just the presents, the Santa Claus myth, the festive style of it all that makes this holiday special to me. It’s the warmth... of togetherness.

My favorite detail about Klaus is how it transitions from cold to warm with its atmosphere. We start out with the emptiest, harshest environment, enough fog to choke your eyes, and then we get to this moment with a brighter, clearer sight of the more united town as the Christmas spirit builds in the film, even when it isn’t even that day yet in-universe, so too does the warmhearted feeling that can come from celebrating it appear more and more. This film fleshes out more of what the Grinch taught me, what A Charlie Brown Christmas taught me, what I’ve come to appreciate about Christmas as I grew up in this materialistic world. I can say everyday can have the Holiday spirit, but Christmas is the time where I feel compelled to be grateful of what I’ve made and got and give back when honestly, I don’t care about getting the most expensive stuff anymore like I used to when I was way younger. This film is so sincere in what it wants to say, and you know this is indeed the same guy that made Minions. Yeah, not kidding and I’ll let you sit with that if you’re reading this as I continue because we have to talk about that moment...

Yeah, I don’t like being the Nostalgia Critic, but I too don’t take kindly to the ‘liar reveal’ trope myself and this could’ve been a point where the film lost me a little. Though you know what? It still works. See, with that trope, what sucks is that it can tend to unravel the plot to where you know as soon as they break apart, they’ll get back together regardless of the deed done. This is why I don’t like A Bug’s Life, don’t @ me. But I’m not saying it can’t done right, like in Over the Hedge. The breakup between Jesper and the others is painful, but it is necessary to give us a couple great character moments. One is with Jesper and his dad, who came back personally to see that Jesper has indeed built something for himself. We get no dialogue between them but it’s clear that even when Jesper’s unintentionally successful thanks to Yzma and Bubba, he can tell his son wasn’t happy leaving everything behind, so he lets him stay since that was what he truly wanted this whole time. Again, give that man some credit for amazing dad. Another moment comes before the big reveal where not only do we see Jesper come to understand his own guilt surrounding his original intentions, but in the end they never hated him for coming back, especially due to him inadvertently stopping the enemy feud all together. Lastly, without that moment, we probably wouldn’t have got this smile. When Margu, purest character ever that I could make a whole segment about but I don’t wanna keep you too long, started to tear up after calling for Jesper thinking he left for good but she then sees our guy never really left and we get this teary smile:

I felt that. Almost more than anything else in this film.

Cliched as it can appear, the execution excels in those more memorable emotions for this film. It’s been a year since I watched this again and I remember so much about these characters. And my god, I haven’t even gotten to the animation which... my god.

Klaus is indeed the most beautiful upon beautiful films I’ve seen, and what makes it better is that it all enhances the story. I mention before of its transitional visual from cold to warm sights, but goddamn, the character designs, the environments, the expressiveness, the textures all amount to style perfect for this alone. I think it would’ve as well received if it had a more flat look, but they seriously went higher for a traditional appealing story that compliments the unique children’s storybook look of it all. This honestly is better than most of modern Disney films that I’ve seen, ironic since it feels like if you took Tangled the Series and made it 3D with more fluid character animation. And if I’m comparing something to the continuous mindblower that’s Tangled the Series, you’ve most certainly got on my best side.

Sergio Pablos and his team really pulled no punches in making this a great movie. A great Christmas movie, one worth seeing if not at least once but every Holiday season for tradition’s sake. Klaus gave me a good time, made me cry, and above all showed me to never stop having a good heart because doing good can indeed go far, thankless as it can be. Heck, my heart felt more rejuvenated than before in making this critique, that’s a testament to how much good this film means to me personally. What else is there to say?

It's The Best

[yeahhiyellow]

19, 22 and 23? :^)

19. What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?

Tbh there are a lot of things I hate, although by this point it's only very certain parts of the fandom that have these problems, since most of the shitty people have lost interest by this point. If I had to choose just one thing though, it'd be the overwhelming focus on white, male characters over female and/or characters of color. And there are a lot of areas where this shows up. One major example is that a lot of people like the idea of Connor, Hank, Gavin, and Nines (all white, male characters, mind you) staying at the DPD even after:

The DPD was the one (along with Cyberlife) responsible for the deaths, arrests, and brutal treatment of androids, the main oppressed group in the game's world

Connor and Nines are a part of that oppressed group, and at least Hank is shown in game to support them

Connor has already worked at the DPD and was routinely called an "it" (which as someone who is nonbinary and has been called "it" knows how insulting that can be and understands the need to get away from situations where that happens), was allowed to be sent to his death by, and was routinely harassed and nearly murdered, or in some playthroughs actually murdered, by workers at the DPD (*ahem Gavin ahem*)

Hank (if he is your friend) risked his career just to cause a distraction for Connor to keep him alive

Just because the android revolution was successful doesn't mean the DPD was going to follow that. I mean, the androids were heavily compared to African Americans in this game, and we all know how the current police system treats them (and if you don't, pay attention to the news, like, ever. Also read Jim Crow as that book is very informative on the oppression of blacks in the entire incarceration system as well as before and after that)

So I hope it would be pretty obvious to any sane person that suggesting these characters would join/remain in the DPD after everything is offensive on all sorts of levels.

In addition to that, you also have some people saying that they only cared about Connor's story, or that his was the only good one. The female protagonist that risks her own life several times to save that of a child (no matter if she is human or android)? Not important. The (half) black protagonist who is shot by police, has to rebuild himself, and leads his own people to freedom? Who cares? The only important story to these people is the white, male, cop android who spends most of his time hunting down the good guys. And if some people honestly prefer Connor's story because of their own reasons, that's fine. And yes, Kara and Markus's stories have lots of problems. But Connor's does too, and none of this gives people an excuse to ignore the other characters, especially since they are the minority characters. Then, there are also the people who say Connor's machine path was better than his deviant path, or that him being replaced by Nines in the end was unfair. And... what the fuck??? I mean, I get it, it's fun to play through different options, and Connor is hella badass in the machine path. But he is also hella badass in the deviant path (killing the guards in the elevator, possibly the team at the bottom if he doesn't catch the security camera, fighting Sixty, walking in front of all the androids he freed, like, come on), and he also, like, has morals and isn't oppressive??? In the machine route, he kills his own people, including those who just want to be free and might have been completely pacifist the entire way through. So I'm sorry, anyone who thinks his machine path is better is just looking for an excuse to be oppressive without openly admitting it.

Then there's the Gavin apologizers. While fanon Gavin is awesome, some people have way overstepped the line of redemption and allowing oppression. I've seen posts defending Gavin's in-game behavior, just because he refers to androids as "he" on occasion. This is despite:

Suggesting "roughing up," or being violent to Shaolin (the HK400 in "The Interrogation")

Insulting his partner, Chris, when he doesn't forcibly move Shaolin against Shaolin's will

Pointing a gun at Connor after Connor rightfully says to stop touching Shaolin for both succeeding the mission and for Shaolin's sake, and only stepping down after Hank points a gun at him and even after insults Connor

Punching Connor right in the thirium pump regulator and then pushing his head right where his LED is in the break room if Connor refuses to get him a coffee

Insulting and threatening Connor in the same scene even if Connor follows all of his demands

Insulting Hank's alcoholism in the Eden Club "it's starting to stink of booze in here"

Purposely pushing Connor to the side in the same scene

Trying to literally murder Connor and admitting he'd wanted to kill him ever since he first saw Connor, sometimes successfully

Both physically and verbally assaulting Connor

I forgive very easily and strongly believe in redemption, don't get me wrong. But trying to excuse Gavin's behaviors is so inexcusable, especially when most of his aggressions are towards androids, the oppressed minority.

Now, let's look at Ao3, shall we? Let's see how many fics posted there are with each of the "main" (including Gavin and Nines since even though they are not main characters in canon they are in fanon) characters... (also, keep in mind, I gathered this data about a month ago so it might not be completely up to date):

Connor: 16,150

Markus: 5,395

Kara: 1,504

Hank: 13,135

Nines: 9,807

Gavin: 9,939

Amanda: 1,177

Chloe: 1,521

North: 3,056

Simon: 3,192

Josh: 1,965

Alice: 1,098

Luther: 848

Rose: 193

This means that certain characters get unequal amounts of attention:

White: 59,042

Black: 9,578

Male: 60,431

Female: 8,549

White, Male: 52,223

White, Female: 7,179

Black, Male: 8,208

Black, Female: 1,370

Well, this says a lot. Now, some people reading this might realize that there are more white and male characters to begin with, so it could be fair even with their numbers being higher. So, okay, let's see the average amount of works a single character in each of the above categories would have (so divide each of the values by the number of characters in that category) (also I rounded to the tenth place aka first decimal point):

White: 6,560.2

Black: 1,915.6

Male: 7,553.9

Female: 1,424.8

White, Male: 10,444.6

White, Female: 1,794.8

Black, Male: 2,736

Black, Female: 685

If anything, these are even more telling. And if you don't believe me, look on Ao3 and calculate these yourself, because you'll get the same thing.

To be clear, I don't have anything against Connor, Hank, or any of the white and/or male characters. I even like the way that the fandom has redeemed Gavin. But the fandom has not done the same job of redeeming other characters, especially the minority ones, and pays way less attention to them, and that needs to be called out with evidence by someone.

Anyway, I spent a LONG time on that first question, so I'll try to make the next answers shorter!

22. Popular character you hate?

There aren't any popular characters that I thoroughly hate. The only characters I hate are ones that are already highly unpopular (Todd, Zlatko, Perkins). If we're talking canon characters, I do hate Gavin with a flaming passion. I mean, he is meant to represent police brutality. But fanon Gavin is cool with me, so I'm not sure exactly how much this counts.

There is one semi-popular character that I dislike though, and that is Kamski. I'm half-counting him again because within the fandom there are very mixed opinions. I personally dislike him mainly because of his treatment of one of his Chloe's: he is willing to let her get shot in the head and killed just to find a dumb answer to his Kamski test just because he feels like it. If Connor doesn't shoot Chloe, he tells Connor he's deviant, knowing full well that Amanda and Cyberlife are watching being the one to design the program, endangering Connor. While he arguably is responsible for deviancy and wants androids to succeed, that doesn't make up for those facts.

Another character that half-counts is Daniel. There are mixed opinions within the fandom on him as well, with some arguing that he is only wanting to not get replaced and protect himself. However, since his first response was to kill the dad, and then he proceeded to shoot at least 3 more cops, killing 2, and hold Emma, the young girl he had been friends with for years hostage, even though she had nothing to do with his replacement. You can't argue that he didn't want to kill Emma and only used her as protection for himself, either, as there are multiple endings where he tries and sometimes succeeds in killing Emma, even when he is also killing himself. I'm not closed to a redemption arc for him, but his in-game actions are inexcusable. He's the one deviant who truly has no valid defense for his actions.

23. Unpopular character you love?

There are a few. I absolutely adore North, Josh, Adam, and Alice, even though the fandom has conflicted opinions on them. Then again, none of these characters are really considered unpopular, just not as popular as others with a select few that don't like them. With North, I've been in this fandom since a few months after its release, when there was a lot of North hatred, and was actually in a group called the North Protection Squad lol. However, now most people like her, and she's really grown in popularity. With Josh, it's less that he's hated, and more that he's ignored. People say that Simon was the peaceful option when he was really the neutral, and recently I've seen more people against Josh's opinions on the revolution. While I don't always agree with Josh being so passive and undemanding (neither do I agree with North's violence), he's still an awesome character with some very valid points. Then, I do understand why some people dislike Adam, as at first he's against androids and almost reveals Kara and the others. However, if you meet him at the border crossing, he apologizes to Kara and changes his mind, promising to help androids. While he may start out scared and not on the right side, he does have a good heart and ends up making the right decisions in the end. With Alice, I haven't seen many people hate her, either, although I have seen some saying she's annoying and lacks a personality. I agree that she lacks a personality, although I argue that's the writers' faults rather than her character's (as are problems with other characters, I mean David Cage wrote this so what were we expecting). I also don't think she's annoying, as after all she is only 9 (in human terms), doesn't admit she's an android because she's scared Kara will reject her (and Kara actually can reject her for being an android, leaving her completely on her own in a world that wants her dead. Also, living her whole life with Todd can absolutely not help her feel more secure with who she is or make her trust Kara to still love her for it), and she is only cold and feels sick because her model of android is literally designed to replicate human sickness and discomfort (and it's clear she doesn't know how to turn them off, because even after Kara knows she's an android Kara still has to help Alice not feel cold anymore. Also, this is November in Detroit, in which the average temperature is 42°F (5.6°C). There are also scenes where it is snowing, meaning the temperature is below freezing. Still, despite the temperatures, in some scenes not having a coat, and feeling sick, she says Kara and Luther can't stop because of her, risks her life to save Kara's if you fail QTEs, and says she's "fine" even when she's cold to comfort Kara. So if you think she can be annoying, yeah, all 9-year-olds can be. But if you think she's annoying enough to actually hate her, idek what to say).

In terms of characters that are really unpopular, I actually like Leo. His actions at first are inexcusable. I mean, accusing Carl of loving an android more than hin, insulting Markus and treating him as less than human, threatening him, breaking into Carl's house and attempting to steal his paintings for drug money, and framing Markus for Carl's death leading to him getting shot and nearly killed are obviously not okay things to do. However, he is clearly on drugs, specifically red ice, the most dangerous drug in the world. Also, if you decide to push Markus leading Carl to still be alive, when you return to Carl's house, you can find a message Leo sent to Carl in which he apologizes for everything and promises it won't happen again. In the extras section, you also find out Carl missed out on Leo's whole childhood, only first meeting him once he was much older. Given that Carl spends all of his days pleasantly conversing with Markus while ignoring Leo, not calling him, only talking to Leo once he comes around himself, and doesn't even argue when Leo says Carl doesn't love him, it's almost fair that Leo thinks the way he does. Since he's also high on drugs throughout the story, at least up until Markus gets shot, we also know that the Leo we see isn't the real Leo. Later, if Carl is dead and Markus visits his grave, he encounters Leo again. This time, when Leo sees Markus he is only shocked. Now, off of red ice, not only is he going to see Carl's grave, expressing love for his father, he also doesn't try to hurt Markus, insult him, or anything mean or dehumanizing. His expression lacks any signs of aggression. It was only when he was high that he was such an asshole. Although that doesn't excuse his behavior, it does give a reason for it, and by the end I consider him redeemed.

~~~

Wow... that was a long response to a very short ask. No need to read all that (although I would highly suggest reading my first answer, at least, since that does contain some very relevant points). Although then again, if you've made it here, you've probably already read all that. In which case I would love to hear your opinions if you're willing to share (as well as anyone who sees this!) I guess I just had a lot of opinions that I needed to put out in the world lol, so thank you sm for the ask!!!!! 💛💛💛

[kpoptrashlord-007]

Hide && Seek;; YHW

Word Count;; 3.5k

Genre;; HORROR

Pairing;; Hwanwoong x Reader

Summary;;

Inside this grand, lavish hotel and its sparkling veneer of respectability, you find yourself playing the role of the feline in a little game of cat and mouse. Your opponent? Hwanwoong, the man with the angelic smile and carefree eyes. The further you chase him, however, the harder it is to settle your nerves. The line between predator and prey is blurring and you can't help but wonder who exactly is pursuing who.

Warnings;;

TW// Blood, Character Death (random side character), Supernatural and Dark Themes!! Graphic depictions of violence! I’m serious here! It’s a bit intense. NOT for the light of heart (or stomach). Oh, and explicit language.

Please be mindful of these warnings as this features EXPLICIT violence.

Notes;;

Day Nine of the Halloween 2k20 Prompts! ~Monster~

My Masterlist

   You've had too much to drink.

   With a cloudy mind, you stumble after your companion. Your feet drag as you lag behind him. You pass many doors but he doesn't stop. Further down the hall and deeper into the building you travel, long past the area of the hotel reserved for guests.

   His silky hair bounces every time he turns to you. After what feels like an eternity staring at the back of his head, you appreciate the fleeting glimpses of gleaming eyes and that cheeky smile he flashes your way. He's keeping an eye on you, making sure you don't wander off in your drunken haze. That much is obvious but you don't mind, not really. In return you are dutiful in your pursuit of him.

   You can't recall where he is taking you. With half a mind to ask, your mouth falls open only to snap shut - he's looking back at you now with such an intensity that all you can do is stare in return. There's something swirling deep within his eyes but you can't pinpoint it; you can't put your finger on what emotion is prevalent in his gaze as it bears into your soul.

   Seconds crawl by.

   One foot in front of the other, you're on autopilot as you follow him without a thought of your own, your mind zeroing in on the burning intensity of his stare. He pulls you deeper into his hypnotic, hungry eyes with every step all the while leading you deeper into the bowels of the hotel. For some reason you trust him and you don't question the dubious situation despite this being the first night you've met.

   There's a familiarity about him that lures you.

   You come across a red sign and some yellow tape. He steps over it so you do too, tripping over your own feet to catch back up to him as his pace quickens. He disappears around a corner and you chase him. You're always hot on his trail and yet you remain so far behind.

   Your hand slides down the wall as you round the corner. Chips of paint slough off and embed within the soft flesh of your palm. With a hiss of pain, you look down. Tiny beads of blood well around the points of impact, each marked by stiff, sharp shards of paint.

   If you pull them out now, sure, it'll sting, but leaving them in will only cause misery later alongside a possible infection.

   With your mind set, you get to work. It's a struggle to remove the tiny pieces but you try nonetheless. They're small and fragile, breaking before you have a chance to remove the whole fragment but you don't give up. Piece after piece, you pick and scrape into the tender, sensitive skin.

   Blood flows more freely now. It's hard to see the paint when there's so much blood leaking out of the growing gashes but you're stubborn. You don't leave jobs half-done and you can feel more of the tiny shards just beneath the skin, taunting you. They slip deeper the further your nails chase them.

   As if they're makeshift pliers, your middle finger and thumb stretch open the skin while your pointer finger digs deep, blood and flesh pulsing from the assault.

   "Having fun?"

   You stop dead in your tracks.

   Rubbing your eyes in an attempt to clear away the alcohol-induced haze, you frown. Hwanwoong is nowhere to be seen. You squint as you scour, searching up and down from the cracked floor to the peeling ceiling, but find no clues as to his whereabouts.

   Brushing it off, you look back down to your palm and the involuntary shiver that rocks your whole body leaves you trembling.

   It's sobering.

   The complete lack of blood, paint splinters, and cuts is sobering.

   "Funny, isn't it?"

   "What the fuck?"

   It's a whisper meant to be consumed by the thundering silence and yet you know he heard it. He's lingering. Nowhere to be seen but everywhere at once, Hwanwoong is both near and far. You can't wrap your head around it.

   Then there's the shift in the hall that is plain inexplicable. Up is down and down is... gone. You haven't any proof, just a gut feeling, but it's enough and you worry that if you do check, there will be nothing at all. Will you fall, then, like a cartoon character who has just realised they're running on air? Will you plummet right through the floor, tumbling out of reality in your pursuit of Hwanwoong?

   Where did he go?

   Dropping your hand out of view, you consider it lost to you now. Anything below the waist feels numb, as if it has merged with the darkness you suspect 'down' has become. Eye level seems safe enough so you gaze from side to side.

   It isn't how you remember it to be.

   The wall is pristine. There are no cracks. The paint isn't sloughing off. Nary a blemish marks the white, clean walls on either side of you. It's dangerous to let your eyes wander and yet you have no real control over yourself. They drift up and down, still cautious of the ceiling and floor but eager to solve this mystery all the same.

   Turning your head, you gaze back at the corner where you had injured yourself. At least you thought you had. There is no bend or corner there, just a straight pathway leading you to…

   You gulp, taking a step backward.

   At the end of the hallway there's a room you wish to avoid.

   At the end of the hallway there's a door that beckons to you.

   It whispers the promise of death.

   Snapping around once more, you run. You run and you run and you run until your lungs cannot bear it any longer and your heart threatens to burst out of your chest. No matter how far you go, there's no exit.

   Gulping down air while resting against the wall, your nails dig into the plaster in an attempt to keep your body from collapsing down into the void. It comes up to your knees and the longer you stay still, the harder it is to move. Your head wobbles and shakes with every breath before your eyes flutter close.

   Just a quick breather you tell yourself, knowing full well that if you don't snap out of this reverie, you'll fall headfirst into the madness consuming you.

   "Should we play?"

   The gasp bubbling free from deep within dissipates beneath the constriction of your throat. Nails impale themselves into the tender flesh of your neck. The higher you're lifted, the stronger his grasp becomes. Blood pools in your feet. Your body shakes. Your mind screams. Your eyes open.

   But there's nothing.

   Checking your neck for blood, you find it isn't even sore to the touch. Before you is that endless hallway but not a living presence is nearby. Hwanwoong is nowhere to be seen, though this fact doesn't surprise you any longer.

   When your senses return to you, you're gazing at the floor. The same floor you feared mere moments ago. The carpet is ugly but otherwise harmless. There's no hell awaiting you and there's no darkness devouring you inch by inch. Releasing a shaky exhale, you risk turning back to face it.

   Your nightmare.

   The door.

   Carved out within the wall at the end of the hall, it waits for you. Despite how far you've tried to run away from it, it remains just where it has always been. From beneath the threshold you see the edge of the refracted light, its pattern dancing and shimmering. It's a taunt handmade for you.

   You take a step forward. Unlike your futile attempt to escape in the other direction, the gap shortens. You take another step. There's several indents in the wall lining the way. They're the perfect size for a door and yet when you run your hand along the edges, there's no air nor light seeping through. A solid wall greets your shoulder when you try to force a new entryway.

   While inching closer to the final door and its kaleidoscope of sparkling light, you pound against the hall and all its false doors. Nothing budges and nothing gives. It isn't until you turn to cross the hall, intent on scouring the other side for a hole or error in the design, that you notice the infinite shards of reflective light and how they flood the hallway. Splashes of bright light dance across your skin. Eerie silence follows.

   The door is ajar.

   Reaching out, the tip of your fingers graze against the metallic overcoat. It's old and rough to the touch. You want to pull back, to turn around and escape this personalised hell, but the room is summoning you. It's a call to judgement and you daren't ignore it. You must atone.

   The door creaks once your palm meets it. Though it looks heavy, it flies wide open with a single push. A tidal wave of light bursts through. Your heartbeat escalates.

   It's impossible.

   What you see is impossible and yet your past is here in vivid detail. From the view of the snow-capped mountains in the distance and the much closer fog over the outdoor jacuzzi to the soft jams of his radio and the desperate splashing of water to the stinging chlorine that, even now, burns your nose. It's all the same - right down to that fucking shimmering pool and the woman in it.

   "Should we play some more?" Hwanwoong purrs.

   His body presses against your own and you can feel the way it shakes with every syllable, as if he is brimming with excitement. For once, you know he's truly here with you. Whether 'here' is within the halls of the hotel or back inside that rich psycho's mansion isn't clear to you, however.

   Perhaps you hadn't been the one to walk away after all.

   "Have you been bad? Should I punish you?"

   There's no room between your bodies but that doesn't stop you from trying to push past him, to squirm around him, to force him out of the room with the sparkling, refractive light and the secret it holds.

   "Nah-uh, not so fast cutie." He smiles at you and your feeble attempt to move him. "Let's play a game."

   "No!"

   "Huh?"

   "I don't want to! I need to get out of here, you don't underst-"

   "But you don't even know what the game is yet," he pouts, gripping a fistful of your hair and stopping you dead in your tracks. With how tight his hold is, there's no doubt that the shearing burn exploding outward from the roots is your hair ripping from your skull. You can't silence the scream that escapes your quivering lips.

   There's a voice in the back of mind that tells you to endure, to experience firsthand what you put her through.

   Whether from blood or sweat, you feel a sticky dampness forming along your hairline. He loosens his grip once the tears flow down your face like a broken faucet. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he shakes his head and murmurs something. You can't make out the words over the pounding of blood within your ears. It takes a few minutes before you're able to think straight and he waits for you the whole time, content to just watch.

   "What-" you hiss through the dulling pain, "-game?"

   "You're so resilient. I like that about you, sweet cheeks. Let's play… hide and seek. Do you know how to play?" He waits for a response and the jerk of your head suffices. Satisfied that you're paying attention, he grins. There's something ethereal about him and the way his skin glows and his eyes shine. It's no wonder you had followed him so willingly. He just seems so safe. Angelic, even. "Then go hide, silly."

   With a push, you find yourself stumbling into the room with its giant pool and hypnotising effects. Unable to remain upright, you slip. The poolside puddles turn red when your cheek kisses the ground and blood spills forth from the piece of your tongue you damn near bite off.

   There's a sharp stinging pain in your thigh. Deep within your pant pocket is a solid, round secret. It digs into your leg, bruising the skin down to the bone, and you wince as you stand. From pure reflex you grasp it and hold it in place, scared to lose it.

   "I didn't think it would be us," the woman cries, sliding down the white walls and crumpling to the floor.

   "Better us than the others," you mumble out of instinct, following along with the memory.

   "I don't want to hurt you!" She's full on bawling now, tears and snot flowing down her face. You stand and wipe away the blood seeping from your split lip and torn tongue before spitting the excess into the pool. The water looks beautiful. It's gleaming and bright, unlike the last twenty-one hours.

   "Better you than the others."

   Dragging your injured foot, you approach her. She ignores your towering presence and focuses on staring into one of the little black cameras that have been watching the event unfold. You're running out of gas but she isn't faring much better.

   You can finish this.

   "Just let us go! Please, I don't want to die," she sobs, pleading with the red, blinking light on the camera. "We don't even care about the money."

   Whether it's because of the trust born from a promise made hours prior, back when the odds were tilted in a much more dire direction, or because she thinks she can bargain for her life, she continues to ignore you.

   What a mistake.

   There's killing intent in your aura. It consumes you. Even you can tell and you're quite new to this murder business. And if you can tell, she can tell. After all, before the event your lives were quite similar. Parallel, even. If you could adjust this fast, so could she.

   And yet she's crying on the floor and ignoring you, you with eyes devoid of empathy.

   You with a pool ball in your grasp.

   You with blood on your hands.

   You within striking distance.

   "We just want to live!"

   "Better me than you."

   Her desperate mewling ceases. Instead, her attention snaps to you. She can no longer ignore the threat you possess, not when you've released your weapon of choice from the soft material of your pants. Fear spreads across her dainty features like wildfire. Trying to escape the animosity spiraling over your form with your every step, she forces herself into a corner.

   "But we agreed not t-"

   Physics works in your favour. Velocity, force, and all that, but the semantics don't matter - all that matters is that the impact leaves a splatter and her body is limp. You discard the pool ball and it rolls away, leaving a trail of fresh blood in its wake. Red seeps deep into the grout between polished tiles.

   Relief strikes seconds after the realisation of your success dawns upon you.

   It is soon, however, drowned by the overwhelming sense of guilt.

   You may have won but at what cost?

   Her blood on your face stains you much deeper than the man's had. His attack had come as a surprise. It had been a fight for survival after a helping hand turned feral. You had no choice, not if you wanted to live, and by God you wanted to live. Not just to exist, but to explore and to enjoy and to possess.

   Avarice paints your skin in the darkest shade of red.

   Shooting two birds with one stone, you drag her to the poolside. Blood gushes from her forehead. It fills the room with an unmistakable and distasteful scent. Resisting the urge to recoil, you drop to your knees. Water soaks through your pants until dark wet spots cover your whole lower half. It's an uncomfortable sensation but you push it aside, instead focusing on the slight bobbing of her chest.

   She's the last of them.

   She's the final obstacle in your pursuit of wealth.

   And she's still fucking breathing.

   It takes a few seconds for her consciousness to return after you submerge her head beneath the surface. Her resistance starts immediately thereafter. She contorts and she struggles, pulling away from the iron-tight grip scarring her skull only to sink further into the depths of the pool. Your nails deep into flesh as you seek a more steady hold but you soon lose your footing to the slippery, polished tiles and topple onto her back.

   There's a loud crack and you know between your weight and the position she's found herself in with half of her body in the water and the other half flailing behind her that it is too much pressure for her fragile bones. Her ribs crack one by one, fracturing like the snap of a twig. She screams but the water consumes the sounds, rising bubbles the only evidence.

   From a deep shade of red to a soft pink, the water dilutes outward from the nonstop stream of blood gushing from her growing wounds.

   "I'm sorry, but I've come too far to care about you."

   The words are a reassurance to yourself. They serve as a reminder: this isn't who you are. You're a victim of circumstance. Someone had to do it so why not you? You've come too far to chicken out now. You've come too far to pity the ones that had to fall in order for you to rise.

   Your soul is malleable beneath the corruption of sin.

   Once her struggling ceases, you hold her down for a bit longer. When enough time passes that even an Olympic swimmer's lung capacity would fail them, you hold her down for a bit longer. Even though the blood no longer rushes forth and she's cold to the touch, you hold her down for a bit longer.

   It isn't until the room floods with light that you release her. Strands of her hair twist around your fingers as her body sinks into the depths. The further she descends, the deeper the darkness that consumes her becomes. You cannot see the bottom and soon she is lost to you, claimed by the cold void.

   A hand rests on your shoulder and you jump.

   This is when they escort you off the grounds, give you the money, and remind you of the contract.

   This is when the nightmare is supposed to end.

   For the first time, your memory alters. No blanket is wrapped around you nor is anyone calling your name, ushering you out of the battlegrounds. Instead the hand on your shoulder lifts to cradle your chin, tilting your head back to face your companion. A playful smile greets your widening gaze.

   "I found you," Hwanwoong coos, petting your cheek. "I knew from the moment I first laid eyes on you that guilt was eating you alive but this is always better than I could ever imagine."

   "Please let me go," you stammer, fear settling in the gut of your stomach.

   "Let you go? Do you not want me to clear you of this burden?"

   "No, please, I only did what I had to!"

   "Do you not want me to free you of this sin?"

   "I did nothing wrong! Surviving isn't a crime!"

   "Unfortunately for you, your opinion doesn't mean anything to me. 'I've come too far to care about you'," he mimics with a smirk. "I found you, just as I always do. And now…

   "The dawn of judgement is upon you."

   His palm meets your chest in a harsh push and you tumble. Even though your foot catches on the edge of the pool, it's much too slippery, too wet from your prior confrontation and you find yourself falling backward.

   '-just as I always do.'

   With widening eyes, you watch the ceiling blur above you. It's not what you expect of a pool room. In fact, you know it's not. Rather it's the white speckled panels of the hotel you had been stumbling around at three in the morning in a drunken haze as the years of guilt culminate in another reckless search for trouble, another desperate attempt to feel something.

   Is it still that same morning?

   Has time passed in a blink or has it frozen altogether?

   'I found you-'

   Just as he always does, he found you hiding within that same memory, stuck inside that single slice of hell. Just as he always does, he uses your weakness against you. He plays with you for a time until he gets bored of it all and sets you loose within the hotel.

   And then he plays with you anew.

   In this moment of falling, he allows you to remember. It's the final squeeze of pleasure he can extract from this iteration and he squeezes it dry. He watches fear born of knowledge contort your features and he indulges in it for as long as he can.

   Hwanwoong's soft, angelic face etches into your mind, replacing the gift of truth with a lie of familiarity and trust, and soon a fog covers your mind. Despite your unending descent, you close your eyes and embrace the calm washing over you in waves. Of your own volition, you forget.

   After all, the knowledge of one's eternal damnation is enough to destroy even the strongest mind.

[vminity21]

+1 | kth

Pairing: HighschoolCrush!Taehyung X StillProcessingIt!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Genre: angst/fluff/smut

Warning(s): slight language use, angst (if you read b/w the lines), pretty much smutty kissing, hand groping, mention of alcohol, breast worship, nipple play; Rated: 18+

Summary: When a crush you had in high school unexpectedly returns to your life six years later, this is the experience you have with him when you collected the courage to invite him over to hangout.

Credit to: @suhdays​ for the amazing cover!

Inspiration comes in the form of little expectancy especially when life seems to throw a curveball you never dreamed would be a potential possibility; but, here you are, tapping upon the keyboard of your five-year-old laptop decorated in stickers of celebs you've admired over the years mingled with relevant quotes that have bustled yet again- inspiration that motivates you day by day to continue to be the human being that you are. Inspiration though can appear in lyrical melodies broadcasted globally for millions to pine over; or, published in numerous pages creating imaginary worlds where ones can escape to; or, sketched in a meticulous design to build whatever idea had been desired to come to life; or, filmed in scenes of an edited story by talented persons determined to enter the spotlight in any way they can; or, painted along a canvas in colors of calculated detail bringing forth the picture of accomplishment. Inspiration derives from a mere moment- one that sparks the instinct to gather the materials needed to pour out your heart in ways that may bring a sense of peace.

For you, it used to be in the lines of a song penciled into a crinkled notebook from your backpack hidden away for no one to discover; it used to be countless childhood journals where you expressed your inward battles in order to find enough solace to sleep at night. You've lost your touch over the years because life changes in the blink of an eye, as you grow older, and work can distract from the time taken to focus on yourself; thankfully graduating college to gain the degree you now behold landed you a job, one you hope lasts for many years, and you are currently living in a two-bedroom apartment with your best friend, Monica, who's presently slumbering as you brush some loose strands of hair from your vision.

Your dog is curled at the end of your bed as you write, which is something that you haven't done in what feels like forever, but the reasoning behind this sporadic urge ignited when the familiar pair of brown eyes from six years prior, re-entered your world without your preparation and his presence from a recent night shared seems to echo in every space of your brain to where you've finally had enough. It's about time to reach out, the devil on your shoulder whispers, but the angel sitting on the opposite begs to differ. Shaking your head, you pause momentarily, cracking your knuckles before resting your forehead on the desk, exhaling slowly while the memory of his touch seems to haunt your skin.

He was someone you once admired in high school- roaming the hallways where girls giggled giddily each time he'd pass by; star of the basketball team, rising popularity to the point everyone knew his name, collecting homework answers from budding friendships, and it all began once he started his junior year at a new school- the school where you attended. But the difference that set him apart from the typical cliché's of the prevalent students you never seemed to relate to, was that he talked to absolutely everybody and anybody- no judgment on what group the person took part in, his kindness won the hearts of many other than the evident attraction of his physical features. He didn't care who you were or what you were into, he would be your friend, and that, considering he was viewed on a higher level, made him even more special.

Despite never admitting it then, you had a crush on him. He was more of an acquaintance, but you enjoyed his company when he came around, and when a past friend, who is now married with a few kids, used to have a crush on the same person, your heart sank, because with every guy thinking she was hot, you felt as though you would never stand a chance. Especially not with this guy who made your hands jittery and the beat in your chest skip- the guy who is none other than Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung would frequent the chorus room at times when you and your past friend would practice music pieces and he always was fond of your singing voice- something he praised you for often, while his attention was received from his talent regarding sports. Something he was so good at that it was spread that he may have gained quite the scholarship for college if he decided to go. There were memories of bravery where you seized the day just to steal a conversation and a hug; at one time, scribbling the words 'hot af' with an arrow pointing where he signed your friend, Min Yoongi's, yearbook; Yoongi playing it off as though he had no idea who the culprit was when Taehyung asked who wrote it. Utter surprise can't even fathom when you along with Taehyung were voted 'Most Likely to be Famous' by your graduating class when senior year was conquered. The inside joke was for you to hold the basketball while he placed his hands upon the keys of a piano, the picture you still couldn't process happened, but always remained grateful for.

Six years flew by and the conversation never necessarily held, but there were the rare messages from social media where he'd reach out hoping all had been well with you. Interestingly enough, a cover you posted harmonizing with a fellow singer happened to be his absolute favorite, one of the few Instagram posts he'd commented on, and one of the few singing videos he continuously would listen to repeatedly without your knowledge until a few weeks ago when he revealed that to you. A cover that is now near to be a four-year-old video that he still finds uplifting when he hears you and the way your voice blended so well with the other female. Your mind is reeling because after all this time, and even now, there are remains of the aftershock, trying to forget the feel of him, when there's no way you can, not with everything so fresh on your mind. So fresh on your heart.

It all occurred when Yoongi, who kept in touch with you occasionally after graduation brought you up to Taehyung who happened to think of you earlier when listening to his favorite cover of yours, and he agreed he'd like to hang out. He asked if his friend, Hoseok could join you, Monica, and Yoongi which of course you said yes to learn how sweet you found it, that he had traveled within the span of a day after visiting his grandparents, because he is a man of his word, planned to come see you even though the drive was five hours out of his way. The night was filled with so much laughter mixed with serious conversations to the point the card game that was supposed to be played was never finished, and it sprung the desire of wanting to see Taehyung again, and you couldn't come to terms with never knowing so after some encouragement from Monnie and Yoongi, you messaged T to hang out a few days later, but never opened his reply until you were safely home from work.

Taehyung: Gotcha! Hmmm, I haven't decided on what I intend on doing. Either being with family or hanging out with friends. If I don't hang out with family, you could be my plus 1 or bring whomever or vice versa

[Y/N]: Sorry I just got home from work! I'll definitely be your plus 1 if hanging with family doesn't work out! Sounds like a plan!

He asked if you wanted anything from the store when it was confirmed he was on his way which you responded with your typical answer of no, and with music playing from your Bluetooth speaker, you were highly humiliated when you lost track of four minutes of time, opening a message from him to see that he had been there, at your door. Heart racing you rushed to unlock it, head spinning when you saw he leaned against the stair railing with a plastic bag of two Arbor Mist wine bottles dangling from his hand, him promising everything was fine despite your profuse apologies- him slipping his phone in his back pocket while he followed you into your home.

Monnie happened to be staying the night with her family, so it would be just the two of you tonight, besides your dog who bounced at his legs while he reached down to pet her fluffy head. Taking in the sight of him, now that was something you found hard to believe. Just a simple pair of jeans, a gray t-shirt with a black jacket complementing the dark tendrils of hair spread across his forehead leading to the carefully sculpted lining of his jaw nearly brought you to your knees, but you held it together long enough to settle across from him at your dining room table. He had taken off his shoes at the door remembering upon a few days prior, and he set out the wine while you jumped to retrieve wine glasses (Yoongi happened to purchase for you) while banter still related to greetings.

One thing that truly intrigued you when first seeing Taehyung after six years were words, he had said that touched your heart more than you'd like to profess. "That's why I try to enjoy every moment with people because you never know what day will be your last," and you knew right then, that if there was anyone you wanted to share a moment with, it was him, and there he was, right before you, smiling about something you said while the sound of the fruity liquid-filled each glass.

"I really truly do not understand what you are so afraid of. What do you even have to lose?" Monnie tinkered with the lens to her camera while she sauntered through the living room. Exasperated from anxiety, you sucked in your lips before teasingly throwing her the side-eye.

"My dignity,"

"Oh c'mon," she paused, lifting a brow. You had been talking nonstop on how bad you wanted to invite Taehyung over, but fear of rejection including the fear of humiliation seemed to overwhelm you, although deep down you knew your best friend in the entire world was correct. You did not nor do you have anything to lose.

"Well!" You squawked, raising your palms dramatically in the air before slapping them to the sides of your thighs, "Why the hell would Kim Taehyung ever want to hang out with me anyway? Do you not see how farfetched this all is?"

"Bold of you to assume that my life isn't already farfetched enough as it is-"

"Not! The point!"

Monnie sighed, and when she saw the way your shoulders slumped in disappointment that shouldn't have been an issue, to begin with, she stepped closer, placing her hand on your shoulder, "First off, you are overthinking this, and you shouldn't. Besides, I think after hanging out as a group, he only sees you as a friend, meaning no expectations. So, go into it with that mindset okay? I'm sure he'd love to hang out with you. Secondly," she smiled, her serene expression filled with promises she always kept, "You've waited six years for this. I think you should ask him to hang out."

"You really think so?" Your grin reached your hopeful eyes, and the feeling in your chest seemed to react more positively despite your earlier turmoil.

"Yeah. The dude owes us a chair anyways,"

"Ah!" You cackled, back pressed against the dining room table as you remembered literally a few days ago when Taehyung accidentally broke a spindle of the chair in half with his foot when Yoongi scared him just by suddenly walking down the hallway. "I don't think I've ever seen a man so embarrassed."

"I'm not saying to hold it over his head, but," Monnie held up her index finger, "I think that gives him enough reason to come back," she giggled, setting her camera on the dining room table before waltzing into the kitchen.

You shrugged, "At least we can still sit on it."

"Look at it, it's staring at me," Taehyung pointed swiftly at where the vacant spindle would have been, your laughter reverberated throughout the space.

"T, really, you do not owe us new chairs. I promise, it's fine," you reassured him, realizing your cheeks were sore from how much you'd been smiling since he entered your 'realm of refuge' as you liked to describe your apartment. He snapped a picture of it, probably with the intention of getting a new chair for you and Monica regardless, and you found that appreciative although you would be happy if he didn't.

Shit. You pause from the computer screen, leaning back into your chair before folding your arms tight across your chest. Eyeballing the cursor, your vision narrows as it blinks, waiting for you to add more words to the memory that seems to spin in a cycle with the subtle goal of not stopping. Or, so you figure. If recalling every little detail isn't already hard enough, reliving the reminiscence of his fingers twirling in your hair, his sweet laugh when he looked at you, or the way he held you so tight-

But, everything in between, leading up to those mesmerizing flashes are just as important to you as what it led to. Maybe it was the conversation- the three hours of conversation before the move to the sofa which it was hard to fully focus on what else was being said because how could you properly concentrate when the one person, you'd been so worried about spending time with was seriously conversing with you like the pair of you had been friends your whole lives?

Miraculously, you were able to gather the stories of past vacations that resulted in mild disappointment revolving around the complaints of people surrounding him, or the goal of visiting as many places as possible leading Taehyung to scribble down a list of where he'd been to reveal you both have equally been to the same amount of places. Of course, the thrill of going on a mini adventure with him brought an excitement you haven't felt in a while; even the story of why he was transferred to your high school years ago due to a misunderstanding, and when the pair of you made your way to the couch, he nestled into one corner while you gladly took the other, wishing you could snuggle closer but fear prevented you from doing so.

It seemed as though that he didn't want to watch the movie anyhow, because he talked to you as though he never wanted to stop, and eventually it led to you asking one too many times if he was okay with spending the rest of the night with you. "It's up to you, I'll stay if you want me too," he promised, the way your heart fluttered when you replied, "Yes, can you please stay? I don't want you to go."

"Alright, alright! I'll stay," he smiled widely, both of his large hands reaching out, and there was not one ounce of hesitation from you- your hands grasped his before your dog jumped to beg for attention, trying to lick at his face causing your hands to undo. Laughter was contagious with Taehyung, and still cuddled into the corner of the couch, you were so elated that he was going to stay, you reached to hug him, his arms wrapping around you, the feel of your bodies aligning putting the biggest smile on your face. It was crazy how everything was seeming to fall into place- the stars aligning as though it was all magic; and, you couldn't get past how right everything felt. How right he felt. Pulling away, his smile never left him, "Are you shy?" His arm remained draped around your shoulders, and timidly you peer at his surprised gape, his black hair almost covered his crescent eyes.

"I mean... Yeah, I can be," you murmured, reaching to hug him again, but something washed over you this time, a thought that had crossed your mind repeatedly that you just couldn't take it anymore. The side of his face was blurred, placing your palm upon his cheek, and without even a moment of doubt, you kissed him. A sudden decision, but one of the best ones you could have made.

His lips were so soft, the way his mouth just seemed to mold with yours for only a few mere seconds, and the shock on his face when you pulled away, paired with the realization that his hands were held in the air, you hadn't expected his reaction. Shit! You cursed inwardly, immediately jumping back to persistently make sure he was okay; even when he moved to cuddle with you, him claiming everything was fine, but that he couldn't believe you kissed him being the both of you never once saw this coming especially six years ago during the high school days. His hand was fidgety as he swiftly rubbed your shoulder, your head buried on his chest while your mind spun in a continuous loop of how you could not believe that you kissed Taehyung. The Kim Taehyung.

He became quiet- too quiet, concern etched in your expression, maneuvering yourself back to the opposite corner of the couch, so you could face him. "T, are you sure you're okay? Did I freak you out?"

"No, no, I just can't believe you kissed me," he was in awe, eyes dazed as he ran his slim fingers through his hair, "Like, really I never saw this coming,"

"I mean, have you looked in the mirror?" You teased, knowing damn well he'd been aware of you finding him attractive, and he shook his head in dismissal of your compliment as he chuckled; it took you a whole sixty seconds to realize you were holding his hand, fingers linked, and him asking if you were nervous due to your clammy palm, though you tried to swear up and down you were not, the next round of words he said nearly brought you to tears when he finally spoke.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short," he looked you in the eyes without any faltering, although you tilted your head in mild confusion as to why he was saying this, to begin with, "I don't think you realize how much of an impact you've made on others, especially guys," ah, he was letting you down easy, and you knew it, but you're too stunned to speak as you listened, "I don't think you give yourself enough credit either. You're a great singer, you're pretty much a musician, you love animals, you have a job, you live on your own. Really, you shouldn't sell yourself short-"

"T," you breathed, pleading almost, but trying not to make it obvious, but he never broke eye contact, "We don't have to date or anything, I just- I just wanted a moment with you." You mentioned what inspired you to spend time with him- exposing how a few nights ago when he said he wanted to enjoy every moment with people- you knew you wanted to have a moment with him, too. Memories from high school were spoken momentarily, thirty minutes passing by which included a made-up handshake as well as the subtle twirl of his fingers in your hair- him complimenting how good your hair looked which made you blush even more.

Just when you thought he wasn't already smooth enough, you noticed Taehyung started teasing your dog, her pouncing at his chest before he'd lean in closer to you. Eyebrows scrunching, it took you a hot second to realize what he was doing. Each time Taehyung would scoot closer to you, he'd kiss you, sending the pair of you in boisterous laughter when your dog would try to break the kisses by jumping in between your faces. The more your lips would touch, it'd last a bit longer and longer, your hand clinging to the side of his jacket to pull him closer when things really started moving fast, eventually your dog left the room with the hint that attention was no longer available for her.

Still lip-locked, Taheyung's hands gripped your hips while you willingly moved to straddle him, arms resting on the top of the couch on either side of his head, the tip of your tongue glided along his, while he fanned his hands along your ass. You refrained from moaning into his kiss despite how bad you wanted to, yet you held yourself together, involuntarily grinding your clothed heat where his erection was felt. T smacked your ass before slithering the tips of his fingers to your shirt, slowly unbuttoning one by one.... One by one. His eyes were hazed from how much he was craving your mouth, and with a seductive nod in his direction, he continued until he made it to the final goal, your kisses never planning to stop, the sides of your shirt being brushed away for him to take in the sight of you.

"Ooh my God," his eyes darkened in evident lust when he saw the way your black bra cupped your breasts, "Oh my God," his voice deepened, him hardly knowing what to do with himself while your smirk remained subtlety on your mouth. Though you hadn't needed him to ask, he politely waited for your permission to touch your chest, a quick pang of frilly nerves ghosted your stomach.

"Yeah," you breathed seductively, gradually moving to capture his lips, trying to hold back a giggle when he gently moved his hands to your back, "You're not going to find it there," you mused, referring to the clip. He paused as if panicked, "It's in the front," you finally admitted, but failing miserably, Taehyung let you take initiative, you unclipped your bra uncovering what is now widening his brown eyes. "Oh my God!" His reaction made you want to cum right then and there, especially when his fingers made their way to squeeze your nipples when his mouth returned to yours. Taehyung worshiped your breasts, and for some odd, yet arousing reason, you lived for it.

You're uncertain of when the tv was switched off, and even now, as your hands continue to fly across the keyboard, one thing you do recall, one of the lingering memories of the evening was your shirt being off, thrown onto the floor mingled with your bra, and without any warning, Taehyung hoisted you in the air, your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso while he tightened his hold around your body. His steps were painfully careful, kissing you roughly while your arms kept their place behind his neck, and the direction was being taken to your bedroom where your heart pounded so anxiously to be. His jacket was shed before the bold act, and all that was left was his gray t-shirt and jeans. Laying you down with a bounce from your mattress, he remained above you, and your eyes refused to stray especially when he reached to remove his shirt- his smooth skin greeting yours sending waves of goosebumps spreading among your limbs.

There was no one like him in your eyes, and there never would be. Not in your heart. And with how perfect everything was going; you were not prepared for how hard it was going to be to stop before things went too far. Because what if he doesn't exactly feel the same? He was letting you down easy not even an hour ago, and here you were, hopes so high, you weren't sure how you were going to erase them back down. He kissed you until you couldn't breathe, your fingers dug into your comforter, while his palms glided all over your frame for however long you let him, but when he went to remove your leggings, you halted him.

Now, this is where your heart aches when you relive this part, because a conversation was held, one where you mentioned what if someone catches feelings if the both of you decided to solely be just friends with benefits? Taehyung said all you had to do was communicate with him because he was easy to get along with, and you've known this about him for six years. He was always someone easy to talk to, and you knew he would never treat you poorly over a situation like this. And, he hadn't. You made the executive decision to not sleep with him for you wanted him to remember you as the woman you are, and the woman, you've always been, and with the fear of going all the way being something that could change his image of you, you were satisfied to hear the loud echoes of his snoring after you changed into pajamas, gazing at his sleeping demeanor before you drifted into slumber as well.

When the morning came, you were not ready for him to leave, but he asked if you would walk him out, him throwing on his shirt and jacket while you rushed to brush your teeth. T asked if you had any other plans for the rest of the day which you proceeded to answer honestly with a no, as he mentioned that he was going to get breakfast.

"Let me know when you make it home," you said tenderly, "I want to know you're safe,"

"I will," he promised before you embraced him, turning just enough to place a peck to his cheek. It was his smile that decided to enter your recollection- the boxy smile that would plague you until the day you accept that you will never forget it.

And when you opened the door to the apartment where he gracefully waltzed through, you merely caught a glimpse of him leaving, ahead of you quietly shutting the door to whatever could have been.

Or, what could have started a beautiful story that has yet to unfold.

[fluffyferalkacchan]

BNHA Headcanon #2: Kacchan is rich and the reason behind his feral gremlin resting face

Okay so it's one of my headcanon that Bakugou is actually quite loaded. Not a Todoroki or Yaoyorozu's level of rich but like highest of middle-class level or lowest of high-class or something.

If I had to list Class 1-A by how rich I think they are, the top 5 would definitely be something like this:

Yaoyorozu

Todoroki

Aoyama

Iida

Bakugou

Now something that had always seemed kinda off to me is if the Bakugou family truly were rich, would they have sent their son to that shitty public middle-school? And would Bakugou really make that comment about being a hero and reaching the highest tax bracket at the beginning of BNHA? (Like that part really, really bothered me, since Bakugou had never shown any inclination towards wanting money aside from that one sentence...)

But then I thought long and hard about Mitsuki's general personality and temperament and about probably neither Masaru nor her came from old money and it just clicked.

Like yes, it's absolute made sense to me that she would send Bakugou to the local middle-school instead of some "elite" private school. She probably thought that her son being surrounded by old money and entitled spoiled second-generation rich kids would make his personality even worse than it is.

I think her general philosophy towards Bakugou in his childhood was basically "I'll let you try anything you want to try. But if you want something you gotta work for it."

So when he was a kid, he'd get handed pocket money in exchange for doing simple chores around the house (outside of cleaning, 'cause "it's fucking common sense to keep your room clean and tidy, like hell I'm going to pay you for it!").

And when he started to get a little bit older like 10ish and the All Might figurines and goodies he wanted started to get beyond his means and he had not enough patience to wait for his birthday or Christmas to get them, he started to negotiate with Mitsuki for "higher-paid jobs" to do.

At that time she knew he wanted the limited edition golden-age All Might figurine, so she was planning on lending him some money in advance so that he could buy it, but before she could offer he'd already gone like:

Katsuki: Give me a task where I'd get more money, these suck!

Mitsuki, (internally super amused): And what do you a snot-brat like you can do, huh?

Katsuki, super offended: I can do anything you can do, you old hag!! Don't look down on me!

Mitsuki: Anything I can do, huh?

And that's how little Kacchan ended up in the middle of a photo shoot with newly designed Masaru's kid clothes on him, with Mitsuki behind him being like "Okay, go nuts."

She definitely thought that there was no way Katsuki would have been able to model, what's with his personality, lack of patience and general bratty resting face.... But turns out her son choose to wear that angry sewer gremlin face on daily basis and he was perfectly capable of looking cute, if not downright angelic when he wanted to. And apparently he really wanted that All Might figurine.

And so when the shot was done, he just trotted back to her with a super satisfied smirk "haha suck it old hag, told you I could do it, now hand over the money."

(That's how young Katsuki learned that modeling was way more lucrative than doing chores at home and decided that it was what he was going to do from now on. And that's what he did up to his UA years.

And this also where the tax bracket thing came from, 'cause Mitsuki kept going on how "Being a model is great, right?! So how about it, did you reconsider your future job? How about you be more like mom, huh?" And Bakugou would go like "Huh?! No way! Just you see, once I'm a hero I'll be even higher than you and the old man in the tax bracket, and I'll make you regret your life choice!!")

.

.

.

On their way back,

Mitsuki, poking teasingly at Bakugou's nose: You know that if you tried to look like you did back there on daily basis, instead of like a feral demon child dragged right from hell, you'd be even more popular.

Bakugou, scowling and swatting at the finger: No way.

Mitsuki, curiously: Why not?

Bakugou: Auntie Inko told me that I'd grow up to be really handsome.

Mitsuki: Well yeah. Since you look like me. So, what's wrong with that? You wanna be ugly?

Bakugou, scowling even more: She said that since I'll be so handsome, I'll grow up to be a really popular hero. But I don't wanna! Heroes are cool because they are strong, not 'cause they are handsome! And I'm gonna be the strongest!!!

Mitsuki, trying very, very hard not to laugh at that logic: Oh I see that makes sense. Want me to stop near the forest? I thought I saw some feral raccoons over there the other day, you can practice by imitating them or something....

.

.

Later on, when Mitsuki told Masaru about it,

Masaru: Dear, are you sure it's okay to encourage him like this?

Mitsuki, browsing through evil feral mask pictures to print out later for Bakugou as references: Huh? Yeah sure, don't worry. He'll probably outgrow it at some point.

6 years later and still counting....

Mitsuki: Well, shit.

[julie-and-the-himbo-ghosts]

Sometime You Gotta Lean On Someone Else: Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is here!! Sorry for everyone who’ve been waiting this whole time, I’m a slow writer lol. But maybe a much longer chapter makes up for it

Words: 3,679

Content warning: mild violence - Willie fights and knocks out a few dudes and it's about half of the chapter so I describe it pretty detailed, so if that's too much for you, you can skip to the line “He turned around to see every single one of the hostages staring at him slack-jawed.” Also some swearing, just like the last chapter.

Read on ao3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Be Gay, Fight Crime

Willie thanked whatever higher power that was up there that the bank had a back alley. There were so many ways it all could’ve gone if they hadn’t had a back alley, but they shook the thought out of their head, replacing it with just Alex, Alex, Alex.

With his bike leaning up against some nasty wall, he emptied the contents of his duffel as fast as he possibly could without dropping them everywhere. Inside: a pair of his good grippy gloves; a baggy hoodie with his little skateboard design on the back; loose black pants; one of those ski masks that only left space for ski goggles uncovered; a big roll of duct tape; and his stickers with the same design as his hoodie. What they affectionately referred to as their “Be gay, fight crime” gear or, if they were feeling basic, just their Spy Bag.

He just really hoped the bank had a back door he could get through.

There had to be someone - some higher power, ancestors, the OG ally the Universe, whoever - up There looking out for him, because somehow he managed to find a backdoor into the bank that was unlocked and unblocked by bank robbers. If he was going to be honest, he didn’t know if he should be thankful that the bank had such bad security or if he should consider suing them for emotional trauma.

Pushing possible lawsuits aside, he silently slipped inside the bank and made his way toward the bathrooms, where he ditched his now-empty duffel bag and slipped his tools into his pockets.

Well, ‘tools’ was being generous, he’d admit. It was really just his duct tape and his little skateboard stickers he specifically made so he could have a Vigilante Signature™, before he was nicknamed the Highland Park Vigilante and was just Willie, the anonymous guy in baggy black clothes just helping people he saw in danger, who was just starting out as a vigilante and wanted a cool signature.

As they crept down the hall, they could hear voices - the robbers, they assumed. They started out muffled and unintelligible, but as he got closer, he could begin to make out some of their sentences.

“Man, let’s go,” One of them said, his voice accented like a guy from those old mafia movies. They decided to call him Jersey. “This is taking way longer than practice; the cops are gonna get here soon.”

It took them a second, but they finally realized the robbers were walking toward him, and he pressed himself against the wall. Shit, shit, shit. One guy they could handle well enough. Two? Two was pushing their luck.

“We’re going as fast as we can,” A second voice responded, and they just barely stopped themself from sighing in relief. It was just a patrol with a walkie-talkie.

“Hurry faster,” Jersey replied.

“Shut up and do your job,” Growled the robber on the walkie-talkie - Radio Man, to them. “We had to tie up more hostages than we expected, and Marv found one in the bathroom, so it’s taking longer than we thought.” Their breath hitched. Marv. A hostage in the bathroom. So the robber who dragged Alex from the bathroom had a name. “Quit whining about the time and make sure no one’s wandering around the halls. And don’t radio us unless it’s urgent.”

“Fine, asshole,” Jersey grit out. The radio went from static to silent, and the sound of their heartbeat filled their ears. Jersey rounded the corner, and Willie waited until he was all the way into the hallway before they sprang out of their position against the wall.

“What the—” They heard the robber start, and they kicked him in the stomach before he could reach for his gun or radio. Jersey stumbled back, but didn’t fall over, and quickly recovered. He swung at them - too wide, they noticed, and too easy to dodge - so he ducked his head back and caught his arm with their own. Before Jersey could take his arm back, they followed it up with a jab straight into his nose. While Jersey reeled back, they swung their other fist into his chin with his left hook, finally knocking him out for good. When he finally slumped to the floor, they snatched their duct tape out of their pocket and wrapped his wrists up securely before ditching him in a nearby closet.

Willie pocketed Jersey’s radio as well, and then took off down the hall, deeper into the bank.

~~~

The bank was practically a maze, he realized, and he added the fact that he accompanied Alex here all the time to the list of things he was thankful for.

Alex. Just the thought of him overtook the adrenaline racing through his veins from taking down Jersey with the cool rush of fear. This wasn’t just any job - there were actual people in danger, Alex included, and - if he was being scarily honest - he didn’t actually know if he was okay. Anything could’ve happened after he hung up the phone, and the thought, the thought, of Alex being anything other than okay made him want to curl up and cry.

But he couldn’t because Alex was in danger, and curling up on the floor didn't help him, didn't help Alex, and didn't help the other hostages in the bank. The only people it did help were Jersey, Radio Man, and their buddies.

He steeled himself and moved faster down the halls and towards the hostages - towards Alex.

~~~

When the maze of halls ended, it dropped them off in a little doorway next to the bank tell counter - close enough for them to duck behind the counter without anyone seeing them, but accessible for customers to use to go to the bathroom, for example.

They rolled behind the counter from the doorway and stuck their head up so they could peek through the glass that would usually separate the tellers from the customers.

The blinds on the front windows of the bank were drawn, and the hostages were all clustered together on the opposite end of the tellers’ counters. About ten of them, they estimated, including Alex, sticking out from the others with his bright blond hair, pink shirt, and black fanny pack. They had to freeze to stop themself from just running over there and releasing him. They had to deal with the robber guarding them first, and then Radio Man, and then any other robbers that might be there.

They couldn’t see the robber guarding them right off the bat, and they must have peeked their head up a little too high looking for him because one of the hostages snapped their head around and locked eyes with them.

And naturally, with their luck, it was Alex.

Alex looked panicked - well, more panicked than he was just being a hostage - and Willie put a finger up his mouth as if to shush him from the other side of the room. Alex, thankfully, looked like he got the message, and he snapped his eyes away from theirs.

With that disaster averted, they continued to scan the room for the guard. With this amount of energy they needed to spend looking for him, his name needed to be Waldo. Waldo was at the front, practically dead in front of Willie, pulling the blind away from the window to look through.

Seizing the distraction, Willie vaulted over the counter - careful not to knock his legs on the glass - and ran silently across the room, and he almost made it.

Waldo turned around when he was just feet away from him, and he swung his gun towards them.

Fuck.

It was a cliche, they knew, but it felt like everything moved in slow motion for a few moments. Willie saw the gun swinging towards their face, the pull of the trigger, the bullet shooting out of the gun. They stopped dead in their tracks and threw their weight backwards. Willie saw the bullet shoot towards them and fly over their face almost in slow motion, as if it was moving through jelly instead of air. The shot was nearly deafening, but the momentum of the sudden stop and throwing their weight back caused them slid on the ground like a baseball player sliding into home base - except, instead of sliding into home base, they slammed into Waldo’s legs and bowled him over. He crashed to the ground, and the gun clattered out of his hands and onto the floor. They rolled to the side and grabbed it, pointing it at Waldo before he could get himself off the ground.

He hoped he didn’t seem as unsure on the outside as he did on the inside, because shit, he hated guns. Just levelling a gun at Waldo - a robber who took Alex hostage and shot at them - made his stomach roil. There was a reason he ran around town as a vigilante instead of joining the police force. Well, multiple reasons, but he didn’t have the time to list every single one.

“Don’t move,” He told Waldo.

“Who the hell are you?” The man just said in response, his voice incredulous.

They recognized that voice.

They didn’t know him or anything dramatic and cliché like that, but they’d heard it before. Only two words, to be fair, but it was a memorable two words.

Waldo was the guy that dragged Alex out of the bathroom.

A surge of rage shot through him. He knew it was irrational and unreasonable and downright dangerous, but he was pissed. He’s the reason Alex is in danger.

“Give me your arms,” He growled. He didn’t consider himself an angry person, not in the slightest - he might get irritated, sometimes, but never really pissed. There was a very short list of special offenses that got him pissed.

He could add ‘endangering Alex’ to that list, then.

Waldo - no, Asshole now - put his hands up in a defensive pose. “Okay, okay. Don’t shoot.” He slowly outstretched his arms, fingers linked. Willie reached into his pocket to grab his duct tape - gun still trained on Asshole - and used his teeth to pull up the edge of the tape. They carefully slipped the gun into another one of their pockets - thank God for cargo pants - and started wrapping Asshole’s wrists in tape.

But Asshole had another idea.

Using his clasped hands like a fist, he swung his hand at their face and caught them in the jaw. They reeled back a step from the force of the swing, then shot their elbow out and smashing it into the side of his jaw, quickly following it up with a kick to his stomach and another punch. Asshole collapsed to the ground, out like a light, and he finished wrapping his arms and legs in duct tape.

He turned around to see every single one of the hostages staring at him slack-jawed. Some were incredulous, like they were thinking “What?? The hell??” - not some of their fans, then. Others had more of a shocked, wow-I-just-got-saved-from-a-bank-robber-by-the-Highland-Park-Vigilante look, the one that always made him smile a bit. There were two kinds of people.

Well. Not if they counted Alex (and they always did).

Alex…Alex was a little harder to read; his emotions weren’t in plain view like the rest of them. You’d think he would be the easiest to read, being his completely hopeless crush neighbour, but Willie just could not read tone or emotion sometimes. They were many an English teacher’s nightmare kid - he spent countless free periods and lunches in high school with English teachers desperately trying to teach them, but none ever succeeded. There was a reason he used to be a chemistry major, and it was because chemistry was straight hard facts and not that ‘open to interpretation’ chaos.

Anyways. Alex.

Alex looked shocked like the others, of course, but there was also a hint of admiration - and was that a blush? - that made their cheeks heat up, too. He’d never been more grateful for the mask covering his cheeks.

It might’ve been a little weird, they realized later, the way they just stared at Alex for a bit - okay, a lot - longer than normal, especially as the Highland Park Vigilante and not his friendly neighbourhood he/they.

Sirens pierced the quiet, low and muffled in the distance, and that sent another little shot of adrenaline through his veins. Shit. He had to get out of there and change and get away from the scene, not to mention Radio Man, who was still loose in the building somewhere and was definitely going to start to hear the sirens soon.

They moved to rush out of the room but stopped midstep and went in Alex’s direction instead. As they got closer, Alex’s mouth dropped open slightly with a hint of incredulity that made them smile. Digging around his pocket, he grabbed one of his several vigilante signature stickers that he carried around to leave his mark and pressed it into Alex’s hand with a dramatic wink.

If Alex hadn’t been blushing before, he definitely was now, with that dark pink tinge to his cheeks and his mouth gaping open even more than before.

They let themself revel in the warm, bubbly feeling of pleasure making Alex blush gave them while they jogged out of the room.

~~~

Willie opened the door to the bathroom - the same one he ditched his empty duffle bag in before he took down all the robbers - slowly, checking to see if there was anyone in the hallways before walking out.

He’d found and knocked out Radio Man just as the cops arrived at the scene. Instead of having to negotiate with several robbers with hostages, they found, the hostages walked out of the bank, free and unharmed, as soon as they arrived. He laughed to himself, thinking of the confusion those cops were facing - before they found out he was behind it, of course.

With just their head peeking out the door, he scanned the hallway, looking for any cops or stray people walking around that would almost certainly find some random guy from off the street carrying a duffle bag inside a bank-turned-crime-scene right after a robbery foiled by a vigilante extremely suspicious. So really, he was just on the lookout for anyone.

There was someone moving down the hall, but he didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate for him that the someone was Alex.

He quickly threw his duffel back into the bathroom and walked out of the door as if it was a completely normal thing for someone to be randomly using the bathroom in a recent bank-turned-crime-scene. He could be subtle - on a good day.

With a better view, he could see Alex’s face better; he had that look on his face he always had when he was in a light worry-anxiety combo spiral. But when he locked his eyes on them, it morphed into one much more surprised and relieved.

“Willie?” He nearly cried, and ran up to hug them. “What are you doing here? How did you get in? Why were you in the bathroom?”

Willie let a little laugh escape his throat and he returned the hug, embracing him tightly. Alex is okay, Alex is okay, Alex is okay, his brain repeated like a broken record. “That’s a lot of questions, hotdog.”

Alex pulled away - he immediately mourned the loss of his body heat pressed against him - and they could see a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

“That’s not— I was worried, okay?”

They gave his shoulder a little shove. “You were worried? I’m not the one who got taken hostage.” He hoped the light tone in his voice covered up the immense worry and anxiety and fear that had been crushing him since Alex first called him.

“Well, I’m not the one with a history of doing dumb thing things with a low impulse control,” Alex shot back.

Well, I hate to break it to you, but that’s exactly what happened, he thought. Doing dumb things? Check. Low impulse control? Always.

“Yeah, well, I’m not dumb enough to try to take on three bank robbers by myself,” He gave him a little laugh, like Yeah, of course I would never do that, Alex. God, he hoped he wasn’t as unconvincing as he sounded.

Alex gave him a weird, hey-wait-a-second look. “Wait, how’d you know there were three?”

Fuck.

His breath caught in his throat, and he felt his all-too-fake smile plastered on his face.

Think fast think fast thinkfastthinkfastthinkfast—

“Uhh,” They started, and they could feel Alex’s glare on him. “The, uh, the cops told me when I got here. I asked what happened and they told me, and then they let me use the bathroom in here as long as I didn’t ‘mess with the crime scene’.” They cringed internally with how bad the lie was.

But Alex seemed to buy it.

Something in Alex’s hand glinted under the harsh fluorescents of the bank and caught their eye. It was his vigilante sticker he’d pressed into his hand before the cops came.

A little balloon of something bubbled in his chest. He kept the sticker. They didn’t really know what they expected him to do with it, but it still shocked them anyways (and if it made him irrationally happy, then that was no one’s business but his own).

“Hey, what’s that?” He innocently (and impulsively) asked Alex, gesturing lightly to the sticker.

“Oh, uh,” Alex spluttered, looking completely caught out. “It’s nothing, really.”

Willie bit down on his growing smile. “You lying to me, hotdog?” He put a dramatic hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

His stuttering trailed off, and Alex looked at him helplessly. “No?”

They couldn’t help it; they giggled. Alex just had that effect on them. “Oh, come on, spill,” They whined and lightly pushed his shoulder again.

Okay, they were willing to admit that the teasing might have been unnecessary, given that they knew everything that happened down to the last detail, but it was hey, it was fun, too.

Alex gave a big, dramatic sigh and a roll of his eyes. “The vigilante who saved us, the Highland Park Vigilante, they usually mark all the places they save people with a sticker. But, uh, since it was a bank and the cops were on their way and everything, they just gave me the sticker instead.”

“Oh my God, you’re blushing.” He definitely was; a light blush dusting his cheeks proved it.

“I am not.” The higher pitch in his voice and the darker pink tint of his blush betrayed him.

“Oh, you so are.”

“Okay, fine, I might be blushing,” Alex admitted, and their grin grew larger. “It was just really cool. I’m in the bank and I’m just thinking ‘oh shit, I’m literally being held hostage,’ and suddenly this guy appears behind the counter, all dressed in black, and literally vaults over the teller window like it was nothing and tackles the robber guarding us. And then, and then the guy tries to shoot at them and they just dodged a bullet like it was nothing. And when you could finally hear the police sirens coming, they ran out of there immediately, but stopped just so they could give me their sticker? And then they winked at me, Willie, they literally winked at me as they gave me the sticker. How am I supposed to not be blushing?”

They could be an oblivious gay sometimes, sure, but he was sure of one thing: Alex was definitely crushing on the Highland Park Vigilante.

He just so happened to be said vigilante and be hopelessly in love with have a big crush on Alex, too.

A small silence following Alex’s rant and his little epiphany hung in the air, as if neither of them knew what to say. Finally, Alex broke their little frozen bubble of silence and pulled his phone out of his pocket, gasping as he scrolled through his notifications.

“Everything all right?” They asked.

“I’m late for band practice,” Alex groaned, “and Luke has been blowing up our band group chat for ages.” He gave him an apologetic look. “Thank you for coming to— Actually, I still have no clue why you came all the way here, but thank you, Willie. Really. I don’t know what you thought you were going to do, but it means a lot to me.”

Now he was the one blushing, his cheeks felt hot, and he couldn’t look away from Alex’s earnest eyes. “It was— It was nothing really.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I told you, I’d do anything for you, Alex.”

Alex’s mouth had been open as if he was going to say something, but no words came out except for the audible clack of his teeth as he shut his mouth. “I—” He paused for a second. “I, uh, I know.”

Neither of them said anything, and once again, a little silence fell over them.

Willie shoved one of his hands in his jeans pocket and ran the other through his hair. What am I supposed to say to that? He thought, overrun with a gay panic.

But Alex spoke again before he could think of a decent response.

“Bye, Willie.” His voice was quiet and apologetic and hesitant, like he didn’t want to leave them there. “Thanks again.”

There were so many emotions swirling around in the mush of their brain as Alex walked away that they didn’t even know where to start to untangle them all.

But as Alex’s blond hair and pink shirt disappeared around the corner, one emotion pushed its way to the surface.

Joy.

This incredible, lighthearted joy that they could only assume came from the relief from saving Alex, from hugging him and knowing that Alex was safe, from the possibility that maybe he liked them, too.

Willie rode the happiness high as they walked all the way down the hallway towards the back alley where they parked their bike, and they couldn’t even fathom anything that could ruin this amazing feeling.

They were opening the back door of the bank when their traitorous brain decided to crush their happiness with the one thing.

Alex is crushing on Highland Park Vigilante, not Willie.

Taglist: @rawwwra, @sylphrenas, @willex-owns-my-heart, @thegaylink, @julie-n-phantoms 

Send me an ask or a dm or reply to one of the chapters to be added to the taglist!

[estherwritess]

Trust Me - Iwaizumi Hajime

↣ Iwaizumi x reader

↣ wc: 1,6k+

↣ genre; maffia, soulmate, some minor fluff if u look

↣ A/N: This is a fic specifically for @seijoh​ / @writeiolite​ ‘s birthday. I want to say a genuine thank you to io for creating a server/space to meet new writers and make new friends; your efforts for the server amaze me every time, the amount of work you put into it is admirable. You’ve been nothing but kind and welcoming to me and so many others since I have joined the server; I hope you have/had an amazing day, you deserve it!

An icy breeze waves past as you lean against the rough brick wall, eyes lazily following your older brother who’d once more gotten himself in trouble with the authorities. Without fail, he’d managed to once again get the family in trouble; a common occurrence which would in turn tick off your other brother, Ushijima. Your ears perk up as you hear blunt footsteps coming your way, a stocky hand finds its way onto your exposed shoulder, making you pull away with a confident swipe. The annoyed expression on your face fades away as quickly as it came when you notice it’s just Ushijima, he crosses his arms across the suit he’s wearing. His expression speaks more than a thousand words ever could. Your arms instinctively reached up to cover your arms, the dress you’d picked for the evening not being nearly enough to warm you up during situations like these.

“You really don’t need to tell me again Ushi,” your eyes make brief contact before flickering back to the car driving off in the distance, “I should stop hoping he stays out of trouble”. A soft, knowing laugh fills the air, “I don’t think this is the same like always Y/N” your head turns to look at him, a curious expression making its way onto your face.

“I think they’ve set him up this time,” playing with the hem of his sleeve he gestures for you to follow him back inside, affected by the winter’s harsh weather this time around. Your feet are glued to the ground, perhaps you’d even gotten frozen to the ground, god knows with these thin soles the shoes you wore were equipped with. As you watch your brother disappear again, there seems to magically be movement in your legs again. However, as you take steps towards the bustling house once more, you feel this inexplicable feeling of someone watching. The feeling never quite leaves you, as curiosity takes the upper hand, you crane your neck turning your torso towards the presumably empty driveway. Your heart drops as you notice a tall, broad figure leaning against the trees opposing the driveway; your eyes can’t make out the details, but they definitely don’t miss the designs wildly sprawled across the man’s arms. Your gut is screaming at you to get out of there as fast as your legs would allow you, so you did. The tapping of your heels against the concrete fills the nearly empty street with echoes.  

The tension that had made you feel as if you were being chased dropped as soon as the door shut behind you. “Took you long enough” your concerned expression flips into an annoyed one, your eyes incredulously staring at your smug-faced brother.

“Don’t look at me like that”

“Like what?”

“You know what I mean,”, your hand makes a waving gesture, “I’m kind of over you and the rest of the family acting as if I’m some kind of glass sculpture,” your tone is bitter as you turn your back to him. Ushijima reaches out, tightly gripping your wrist, accusingly pointing at what seemed to be your cover-up wearing off on the inside of your wrist.

His rather unserious expression quickly turned into a look that would send entire groups running. His grip on your wrist feels as if it’s about to shatter into pieces, he’s aggressively wiping the foundation and concealer you had meticulously applied to reveal what was under there.

00:07:31

He’s seething as you tear your hand away from his grip, clutching it to your chest, trying to rub away the pain. The only time you’d seen him this angry was when one of his trades went haywire; you still remember him tearing down his office out of sheer anger.

“How come we haven’t heard about this?”

“I don’t see why I should involve you in something so personal,”

“I’m your brother!”

You scoff at his words. It wasn’t like being family had ever had anything to do with telling someone something; if those two things were somehow connected, you should’ve been involved in the family business from the moment you turned 18.

And that’s all you could remember from the night before, what happened in between the semi-fight and where you woke up this morning. You hadn’t thought of it as a fight; it had always been like this; you held just the tiniest bit of resentment towards your older brother and that caused those small outbursts; something about never being included in family meetings definitely irritated you more than anything.

You lift your head up, the room you’re in smells old; the dripping of an old pipe in the distance irritates you just enough. Your hands are tied in front of you with a cable tie that was cutting into your wrist, to no avail you try to wiggle yourself out of them. It feels as if the room is spinning; you have no idea why or how you got here; the door occasionally opens, your eyes stinging from the sudden bright lights filling the room.

You’d never gotten the chance to take a look at the person who was coming in and out of the room now and then, until now. He must have noticed you leaning against the wall, hands pressed against your chest as you were falling in and out of a sleepy haze. A calloused finger lifts your chin, tilting your face from side to side, the unexpected touch makes you pull back; your eyes are glaring at the presumably brown haired man in front of you, his eyes don’t seem to have that angry look to them, more-so worried.

“Get your hands off of me,” your voice cracks to which he furrowed his eyebrows in response.

“You shouldn’t have been here in the first place,” he paces around for a while, “you have no information at all.”

You scoff, a little offended even though you knew he was right; he hadn’t ever explicitly told you why you were in this room but you had an idea of what the reason might be, too bad the one who gave his people the job wasn’t aware that you weren’t involved with your brother’s family business.

“How would you know?” you lift your head up to look him in the eye, feigning confidence to mask the fact that you were tired, cold and mostly scared. The feeling was relatively new and the way you were raised had put staying level-headed at the top of one’s priorities, this was a completely different situation, god knows how long you’d been here or what they would still do to you.

“We keep tabs on your family,” he pauses, “we’ve almost never seen or heard about you.” The air feels loaded with tension as you follow his movement around the cramped room; there are several holes in your memory, the first was that you had no way of knowing how many days had passed, seeing as you were cut off from the outside world had no way of telling the time by how the sky looked since there were no windows. Secondly, your timer had stopped, but you couldn’t remember when. The only way you could trace it back was seven minutes after you’d had the argument with Ushijima.  

Would the walk to your car have taken seven minutes? Usually, if a man this tall and worked up was pacing in front of you, you’d have taken the clue and kept your mouth shut, but he didn’t seem scary to you, so you tried your luck.

“How did I get here in the first place?” you hear him sigh, barely audible with his back turned towards you. He takes his time to answer your question. It wasn’t an unreasonable question to ask right?

“Let’s just say I was told to bring you here by a higher-up” You observe his body language, giving him a quick nod, he’s definitely nervous; pacing around, hands toying with the hem of his shirt.

And just like that, he leaves the room, the door closing with a thud. You’re left in the dark room, blankly staring at the counter on your arm that had hit zero. It felt as if reality was trying to shake you, get you to do anything instead of sitting around. With no concept of time, you’re left in the dark room with your thoughts going at an incomprehensible speed; your mind being torn into two sides. You were excited to finally have found your soulmate after nearly 21 years but the guilt was eating you at the same time, having a soulmate who belonged to presumably the opposite of your own family’s clan was unknown territory. You’re left mulling, every now and then there’s a shabby meal thrown inside the room while you scramble over, legs nearly giving out.

After some time you refuse to still lift your head, aimlessly staring at the dark space consuming the opposite side of the room; the minor amount of light filling the room reveals polished shoes calmly walking over to you as your breathing slows. There isn’t an angry voice screaming at you to get up, there isn’t the expected blow to your sides, the footsteps stop right in front of you; a hand reaches out,

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” it’s the same man from before, his voice is rich and feels soothing to you. You use the remaining strength in your hands to lift yourself upright, the former proving to be a real challenge seeing as your wrists were still tied together.

You accept the outstretched hand, less than gracefully grasping the hand with your two hands.

“Y/N L/N, nice to finally meet you.”

He effortlessly pulls you up, a chuckle leaves his lips,

“I wouldn’t say these would be ideal circumstances,” he pauses, a taking a pocket knife out of his back pocket, slicing through the cable tie; relieved, you massage the painful areas around your wrist, muttering a quick thank you.

“i’d love to take you out on a first date after I get you out of here though.”

“I’d like that.”

-

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[detroitbydark]

Chapter 9

Characters: Commander Fox/Reader

Warning: None

A/N: I’m breaking this and the next part into two seperate pieces to keep them at a comfortable readable length. Strap into your seats babes it’s about to get bumpy.

“For the love of Fett-“ Fox shoves the datapad away in a fit of disgust. Three others sit nearby. He was missing something and he was starting to wonder if it wasn’t his mind.

There was a piece he just didn’t have. Rex hadn’t been able to provide it, only given him more questions.

It’s well past the end of his work day but Fox can’t let it rest. He drags a holopad back. This one contains footage, surveillance of the ARC trooper from before everything had come to a head. There had to be something he was meeting, someone somewhere in the background. A hint of anything to go off of.

But there wasn’t. He’d watched the same blurry, looped feed six times already and nothing new presented itself.

That was the definition of madness wasn’t it? Doing the same thing over and over yet expecting different results.

“Fox?” Mouse’s voice cuts through the noise on his head. “It’s getting late. Let it be for the day.”

He raises a brow at the order. Not her usual gentle question. He’s not feeling playful or amorous and she seems to mirror it in the way she stands across the room, her distance from him speaking volumes and making his stomach clench uncomfortably. He’d give anything right now just to lose himself in the soft plains of her body, let the sounds of their passion drown out the voices inside his head that said he was failing.

“Can’t.” He gruffs, pulling another datapad over and flipping through the screen. redacted black lines take up the entirety of it and any attempt to bypass is left with a flashing red ‘access denied’. He snarls lowly.

“Alverde?” the term throws him off. His Little Mouse didn’t speak any Mando’a. She offers a tiny smile to his bewildered expression.

“Wren taught me a few things.”

His stomach clenches again, sour and dispeptic. Had they talked about what he’d said in the heat of the moment? He couldn’t explain himself now. Couldn’t have the conversation if she wanted too. There was too much he needed to-

Mouse’s hand softly cradles his cheek. He flinches away. He hadn’t realized she’d moved so close. Maybe he was too tied up in his own thoughts. The look on her face is hurt. It’s the only way to describe it, like he hadn’t pulled away but in reality had slapped her.

He grabs for her hand quickly, grip tight at her wrist. He presses a firm kiss to the back of her hand and then more along her knuckles until he feels the muscles in her arm begin to relax. Mouse sighs tiredly. Yeah, he could understand that. She moves to perch on the edge of the desk.

“It’s been a long day but I need to figure this out.” He tries to explain.

“Is this about Captain Rex?” The 501st Officer had not left a good impression on Mouse if her eyes glaring daggers at his backside as he’d left had told the story.

“This is about us all.” Fox corrects, saying aloud for the first time what was truly at stake or, at least, what he’d come to believe. “The Jedi, the clones, my brothers-“

Mouse sits, looking away from him and to the datapad.

“You shouldn’t be looking at these.” He says after a minute, though he doesn’t move to close anything out. Mouse raises a brow at him before getting up to pull the chair from the other side of the desk around next to him. He’d rather she be in his lap. Even next to him feels too far away. He can’t bring himself to act on it.

“Why are all these about the ARC trooper?” She questions, not validating his assessment with a response. She knew as well as he did that this was far beyond any clearance she had.

Fox’s jaw clenches. He needed to tell her to go. This wasn’t for her to see but he can’t because he's weak for her. Having her near may flare some nerves but her presence alone calms so many others.

“You're looking at this like Fives was the lynchpin in whatever plot you’ve got brewing.” She traces the image of the clone softly and Fox feels a flare of something ugly in the soft brush of her fingers against the datapad. “He was young, fresh from ARC training. Where would he find someone to conspire with?” She makes a point.

Maybe he’d been looking at this wrong, “so your saying, Fives wasn’t a conspirator, he just-“

“-got mixed up in it. Did the Captain say when they started noticing him acting strange?”

“After the clone Tup turned on his Jedi-“ Fox pauses for a minute. He’s already said too much so he decides, kriff it, and says it all “he was sick, they thought. Sent him to Kamino for- Rex said he wasn’t right after Tup died there.”

“But Fives didn’t think Tup was sick,” Mouse says quietly. Fox looks at her not for the first time and wishes he’d never laid a hand on her because now she was in this and he wanted her too kriffing to make her go. If this was high level stuff, something cooked up by higher military personnel than it was more dangerous than she’d ever know.

“Who do you think is responsible?”

Now that was the question of the hour. All the way to the top? Tarkin’s name comes to mind first and foremost. The man oozed hunger for power, latched onto any he could get and clung to it fiercely with thin skeletal fingers. Wulff Yularen was another probable candidate but he didn’t seem to stand out so much as Tarkin did. Maybe it was by design. Maybe Yularen has grown weary of being held at heel by the Jedi Order. Maybe he thought he could do better. It was a possibility but still it didn’t feel likely.

The Kaminoans had discouraged young clones from pacing, it was an inefficient use of metabolized energy and unnecessary for such high functioning merchandise. Fox found it to be the best way to think. The act of motion helped to center his thoughts, form them into something clear and concise instead of a tangled, jumbled mess. He rises to his feet and begins the short path back and forth across the office.

He needed access to the redacted files. His clearance- top secret- should have cleared all of that for him but it had barely scratched the surface of the files. They were utterly useless as they were now. He’d need them opened. If it was one of the admirals preparing for some sort of military coup he wouldn’t be able to go to them, while Yularen may comply with his request Tarkin thought too little of clones to agree even if he wasn’t implicitly involved. If they were working together any request would expose him to the full wrath they were capable of bringing down.

No. He needed to go higher. The Supreme Chancellor could get the files opened or at least find the one to order too. It was a matter of galactic security, even though Fox wasn’t a great fan of the Chancellor personally he trusted the man to do what was in the galaxies best interest. That was what he'd sworn an oath to do.

A warm hand slides over his. He startles. Again. He was too on edge for any of this. Mouse looks up with worried eyes.

“Fox-“

“I need you to go home.” He's brisk, erasing any tenderness from his voice. She does a good job of hiding the cringe at his words. He needed her to stop looking at him with those big, trusting eyes. Eyes that held all her faith in him. If she didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to push her away again. Even now it hurt, felt like he was carving out a part of his heart with a dull vibroblade. He couldn’t drag her any further into this no matter how much he did- how much he did care for her.

He could not allow her to be in danger. If something happened to her… he just wouldn’t allow it to happen. Even if he had to be cold to do it. He’d make it up to her after the conspiracy had been laid to rest. When it was safe to have her at his side again. It physically hurts his head, his chest, and even down to the marrow of his bones to place what he wants (but now he’s more afraid that it’s moved on to a need) to the back burner for any reason.

“Mouse go home. Yours.” He clarifies before she can ask. “You can’t- I don’t need you here.” Fox is surprised he can lie so convincingly.

“Fox-“

“-No” his voice is sharp and Mouse flinches, he almost misses it as small as it is. All the same it’s like a punch to the gut. “Go home. I don’t want you here.” It’s amazing he’s able to get the words out. He’s never lied so completely in his entire decade of life. He feels like a hut’uun as Mouse turns away. She doesn’t fight him on it and he wants her too. He wants her to yell or rage. He wants her to fight to be with him.

His Mouse is smarter than that. She’s better than that. His cyar’ika knows him better than he knows himself he worries- he hopes- because the small sounds she’s making as she leaves the office sound like a broken heart.

——

It’s been a long time since you’ve been made to feel so small. You’d never handled rejection well. Your mother had been very cognizant of it and, after you’d lost her, the children’s home attendants had learned quickly. You’d always just been sensitive and any kind of harsh treatment made your mind push into shut down mode.

In a year working at Fox’s side he’d never so much as volleyed a cross word your way.

He hadn’t just then, your brain supplies helpfully.

That wasn’t how you felt. It was as if he’d slammed the door in your face. The sweetness he’d shown you over the last week was gone as if you’d only just come into his acquaintance. It kriffing hurt. That’s what it did. It hurt. Especially after your talk with Wren earlier in the day.

You wipe at your eyes as you take the elevator to the nearest speeder platform and wait for a taxi to loop around. A chill rises up from the lower levels and you shiver lightly. You think back to the previous night, the emotion that had bled through Fox’s words as he held you. The depth of what you’d felt when Wren had translated them earlier.

Forever.

That was the word that you let roll around in your head and your heart. But maybe that was just the heat of the moment falling from his lips? Of course you didn’t want forever.

This was too young, too new. Of course Fox didn’t mean it. Time away from one another would be good, breed perspective. You were drunk off the newness and the feeling of being wanted by such a strong individual. That was all. It was good to separate yourself from the situation. You needed to be alone so you could think clearly and reevaluate what you thought you knew.

By the time the door of the cab is popping open your brain has almost completely convinced your heart that it was in the wrong. Almost.

———-

Fox wakes at his desk, still on full armor with the exception of his helmet off to the side, at 0400. His back protests the first attempt to move into motion and he’s forced to stretch slowly before trying again. His vertebrae pop loudly in protest. He has to agree with them. Falling asleep draped over the duraplast was a rotten idea, certainly less inviting than other sleeping arrangements he’d made over the last week. He doesn’t allow himself to think of Mouse. Definitely, not the way she’d left him the night before.

There was too much riding on his time with the Supreme Chancellor today to allow anything to distract him. He needed more access, to reopen the case. To be given the freedom to investigate like he hadn’t had previously, like he hadn’t pushed for.

He makes his way down to the barracks, shucking his armor and blacks the second he’s clear of the door. The ‘fresher is his first stop. There’s barely an ounce of heat to the stream of water that pelts him. The cool blast wakes him faster than any cup of high-octane caf ever could. He’s efficient, clean and wrapped in a towel in no time flat like he’d been taught on Kamino.

Next, he runs a razor over his face. He doubted he’d be taking his bucket off but if it came to that, Chancellor Palpatine wouldn’t see anything other than the absolute pinnacle of military excellence. To complete the effect he takes the clippers, trimming the short hairs around his temple and back of his head back into regs. He pauses before he gets to the hair at his crown. It was getting longer, not yet floppy but more to the length than he’d traditionally allow.

Mouse had mentioned how she’d liked running her fingers through it as it had slowly grown over the last week. She liked the feel of it between her fingers and he couldn’t argue. He liked the feel of it between her fingers as well. He leaves it be and packs the razor and clippers away before retrieving clean blacks from his closet and fitting his armor back into place. He makes a point of shining the visor to a glossy mirror finish.

A yawn creeps past his lips and Fox takes a longing look at his bed but he knows if he lays back down now he’d be even worse for wear when he got up. No sleep was better than too much sleep as far as he was concerned. He had ways to fight the fatigue. Today was a day for caf and stims, maybe not in that order.

Like any good trooper, Fox kept half a dozen stims in a belt pocket for emergencies. On Coruscant they weren’t as likely to use them as the clones in off world war zones but they did get used from time to time. There was nearly no other feeling better than riding a stim high, comparable to a good night's sleep, three square meals, and a good hot shower. A single stim would make you feel ready to take on the world single-handedly. That’s what he needed today. He pops the little blue and red capsule dry, swallowing it down quick.

By the time he’s to the cafeteria Fox is already beginning to feel the effects of the stims in his system. He no longer has to focus to keep his feet from shuffling, his back feels straight and strong, and his focus is laser sharp. It doesn’t do much for the anxiety that’s been slowly eating at him since Rex showed up yesterday but it gives him the mental fortitude to pack every kriffing nerve and down, down, down burying it so deep below the surface that he can confidently pretend it doesn’t exist.

He downs a ration bar and a cup of caf without breaking his stride, the few clones already present and eating offer respectful greetings and Fox returns them with a quick nod. His vode. This is who he needed to get to the bottom of this for. He needed to keep them safe, make sure they had a future to work towards.

It's nearly 0630 by the time Fox is parking his speeder in the garage of the main senate complex. No matter what the time of day Coruscanti traffic, particularly around the Senate, was a nightmare. Not for the first time, Fox wonders what it might be like in another world, a place where the city isn’t a hodgepodge of thousands of levels dating back to who knew how many centuries past. What must it be like to see green pastures and vast waters, a place that was more scenic than scene?

His mind is firing on too many cylinders and he takes a moment and a deep breath to refocus. The stims are working their magic now and it was his job to focus it to precision, not let it run amok.

The clones at both security checkpoints entering into the building give him a thorough once over even as they recognize him as their Commander. He’s pleased. If they did this to him it meant they treated everyone entering the same, a possible threat until proven otherwise. The safety of the senators and their staff depended on his men.

His boots echo against the fine marble floor as he makes his way to the Supreme Chancellor’s offices. The turbo lift takes him to the top of the building and he encounters one last checkpoint before he’s able to enter. It’s nearly 0730.

Palpatine is busy at his desk when Fox enters. He waits at parade rest for a handful of minutes until the chancellor completes whatever task he’d been set on and looks up.

“Commander” he greets pleasantly, “your early. I wasn’t expecting you til at least the turn of the hour.”

“I can come back if I-“

Palpatine waves him off. “No, my young friend. Come closer. It will be nice to have the company before the business of the day begins.”

The informality makes Fox uncomfortable. He lowers himself into the seat he’s motioned too. “I’m afraid I do have some business for you this morning” Fox stares straight ahead, he’s glad he’s got his bucket on, even so, when the chancellor looks at him he feels as if the old man is looking through it.

“Well that is unfortunate but, part of the grand scheme of things I suppose. What is it? I did hope I’d hear more about the lady love I'd encouraged you to pursue our last meeting.”

The smile he gives makes Fox feel like squirming. His gaze is more assessing than friendly. Fox thinks of how precarious the situation is. His vode, the Jedi, Mouse.

“Any relationship would be wholly inappropriate given my standing within the GAR and the greater Republic, sir” it’s a deflective answer, neither admittance nor denial of what was going on. A brief flash of, what can only be annoyance, flashes across the chancellor’s face. Then it’s gone as if it had never existed.

“I’ve gathered new intel on the case of CT-5555.” That earns him a raised look, as the chancellor leans back in his seat.

“I see.”

Fox watches as the chancellor pushes up from his seat, he moves slowly. His weakness on display in the slight hitch in his gait, the way he holds a hand to the warm wood of his desk for a moment too long to maintain his balance. He moves to stand in front of the large transparisteel windows, turning his back to Fox as he looks out over Coruscant. “I was led to believe that all the pertinent information in that case had already been obtained. The case was closed last I was made aware.”

“And it still is” Fox leans forward in his seat, gloves planted against his knees, “some new information has come to light and, well, the case is so severely redacted I’m having trouble slotting it in or making any sense of it.”

“What kind of information?”

A dull throb, flares into existence at the base of Fox’s skull. Nothing as horrible as some of the headaches he’s endured previously but worrying all the same as the stims should have brought it to a screeching halt. He blinks once. Twice. It takes a moment to set his head straight.

“Captain Rex of the 501st-“

“Skywalker’s Captain?”

“Yes sir.” He hates the way the chancellor interrupts nearly as much as he hates the way his vode are spoken of as belonging to the Jedi. “Captain Rex has some insight into the clones behavior leading up to the incident. He says he filed a report but I’m unable to find any such thing in the case files.”

“The case is closed, my boy” the chancellor's tone has developed a chill. Fox wishes he could see his face but the old man doesn’t turn away from the window.

“You could have it opened. This is a matter of galactic importance.” Fox pushes, feeling desperation rising in his chest along with his heart rate but he can’t stop to think about that. He has to make the Chancellor understand. Now was not a time to hold back, “I believe there is a threat building within the GAR itself. A conspiracy to bring down the clone army and the Jedi.” The pressure in his head is increasing. It’s moving about, hopping from one point to another.

“The case is closed, Commander Fox.”

“Chancellor- I-“ he fights back a wave of nausea. The Chancellor’s voice is all around him. It’s in him, echoing off the insides of his skull.

“Commander Fox, you don’t want to look any further into this matter.”

Fox rises to his feet quickly. His head spins as he drags in a ragged breath. His lungs feel pressed tight as if they’d been placed in a vice, “I need to-“

“You do not need to continue to push this matter. The case is closed. You did a thorough review and found nothing.”

Fox cocks his head. The tension breaks with an awful clarity. The pressure eases, like the sky becoming clear after a late afternoon storm, “I did review the file. Nothing new was there.”

The Chancellor turns and offers him a grin. “You’re a good soldier, Commander Fox.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, tell me, how much assistance did your precious secretary offer for your research?”