#whah should mean nothing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heresathreebee · 4 years ago

Text

Wearing THAT

[Dewey Finn X Female Reader]

Summary: Reader teases Dewey in a Poison Ivy costume. You have a really hard time saying exactly what you want... Masterlist Next

Word count: 3.1k words (no beta)

Warning(s): 17+ | teasing, lots of teasing and boners, lap sitting, near nudity, touching

AN: only Thots here, thots about Dewey Finn also is Ned British? He's British in my head

This was some sort of test. It had to be. God was testing him through you and you were not playing fair. It’s a costume party not a competition, you pompous little sycophant. And yet he can’t help but tug at the collar of his shirt. It’s not even anywhere near his throat but why else would he feel so constricted? It’s certainly not because of you…

You walked into his shared apartment wearing that and you had no idea the effect it had on him.

Dewey watches you sling an arm around Ned and kiss Patty’s cheek in greeting. “Hi guys! Thanks for inviting me, I’ve been dying to put this on.”

“Oh you look lovely,” Patty coos. She plucks at one of the plastic leaves on your corset. “Did you make this?! It’s so intricate.”

You bark out a laugh. “Oh hell no! I have this cousin, right? And him and his fiancé own this shop where they make costumes for movies and theatre and if you pay ‘em right, ‘personal use.’ And they don’t ask questions what ain’t their business either.”

“Well, I’m sold.” Ned raises his beer for a toast and Patty clinks it with her bottle of mysterious green juice. “Prost! What’s the name of the shop? Wanna see if they’re online– you know, for... support.”

“Ned,” Patty swatted his empty hand (no need to be shy, we already know they’re freaky).

You pat your friends on their backs and take a step towards the kitchen. “Gonna get myself a beer.”

“Oh honey you don’t have to do that. Dewey!” The man in question nearly covered himself in his own drink when he heard his name. “Be a good host and get this lady her beer!”

“Yes captain,” Dewey salutes and Patty can do nothing but glare in her Star Trek yellow shirt costume. Original series, of course, nothing but the best for Patricia Di Marco.

Dewey takes a hold of the moment he has his back to you to take deep, calming breaths. He will not let this be the end of him. Your friendship means so much more to him than that and a little fancy green corset was not going to make him fuck things up with you.

He’s ready for you when he hands you your beer. Your one arm hug is appreciated because he’s sporting a bit of wood and he’d hate to find out your corset isn’t thick enough to hide it– or god forbid you feel him on your thigh. And god, your thighs… those sheer green nylon tights were doing unspeakable things to him. Maybe if he kept you close and kept your legs out of his peripherals he could make it through the night without embarrassing himself.

Or maybe not.

“Are yoooouuu a college student?,” you ask and point at his inconspicuous clothes.

“Actually– ” he opens the buttons of his shirt to reveal another shirt with a superman logo on it and buttons it back up clumsily as you laugh. “Ssshhh! Don’t tell anybody. Protect my secret.”

“Of course,” you giggle. God you feel good hanging off him– usually he loves how physical you are but he has to figure out a way to keep his distance without offending you and quickly. “You like mine?”

The way you pick up a thick swirling red lock and direct his attention to the very thing he’s trying not to look at is killing him. Of course you look even better up close. The leaves of your corset give the thing depth and texture, your gloves are fingerless and go over your elbows, and your heels are high, like make- him- feel- his- below- average- height high.

“I like these.” Dewey plucks at the ring of leaves at the top of your gloves. It’s a way to keep his mind off your everything else. “Did you dye your hair?”

“It’s a wig.” You tug on the top and then the bottom, wincing a little. “Sew in, so don’t go snatch it.”

“I would never!”

“Poison Ivy, eh? Think that’s one of Dewey’s favorites,” Ned blabs.

Dewey sends him a death glare so powerful Ned chokes on his beer but you’re looking at your Spock-dressed friend so you can’t see it.

“Oh, really?” You return your gaze to Dewey and say, “well you must be loving this, then.”

Dewey swallows. No words come to him and there is nothing to stop the awkward silence that follows. You appear unbothered by it, maintaining eye contact as you smile almost knowingly…

“We should play twister,” he says with the most unsure voice ever.

“We don’t even have twister,” Patty mumbled. “Come on, there are like twenty other games setup, let’s play!”

Dewey gives it a minute and when he’s free from you, he catches Ned by his pointy green ear and drags him into the hall. “Hey? What the fuck are you doing?”

“Whah– what are you talking about?” Ned slaps at the hand fisted in his shirt but Dewey doesn’t budge.

“You can’t just go telling people I’m into them, dude! Do you know how close you came to giving me away?!”

Ned scoffed. “Her? I hardly think she’s ignorant to your feelings, you’re not like that Steven from Austin fellow.”

“– Are you talking about stone cold Steve Austin?"Dewey buries his face in his hands- "It’s his last name, not his birthplace–”

“And besides…” Ned peeks around the corner to see you in the middle of some sort of posing game. Everybody's trying to take the form of some sort of vehicle, and you've got Chloe in a headlock and Vance's leg in the other hand. Ned never got to finish his thought because someone dropped a huge bowl of popcorn and that too became a game of ‘how many can you eat off the floor before Patty cleans it up.’ Ned’s got to help and he’s got to help now.

Dewey finds himself on the couch with his fifth beer of the evening. Vance, Jeremiah, and Chloe are talking baseball stats when suddenly Dewey’s vision is filled with green and red just before you sit down. Right between his legs. He unconsciously scoots up to make room for you and before he catches on to your game, you nestle into his space by the arm of the couch and sling your legs across his like you belong there.

Ok, something is definitely up with you.

Would he describe you as cuddly? A little. Perhaps a more appropriate word would be… hands on. Long before he started wanting more than friendship with you, you two were always just touching. Your presence and your love language was physical. Dewey never felt like you were invading his personal space or overstepping his boundaries because he simply had none with you and the feeling was mutual. But this was something else. Something that wasn’t there before.

Was it him? Was he fucking up his perfectly in sync companionship with you because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or (his heart for that matter)? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to drag you closer or push you flat on your ass right now.

You were listening to Chloe chew Vance out for hating Gritty the mascot when you felt Dewey plant a hand on your forehead. “Hey, are you feeling ok?”

You gently shake him off and raise a single eyebrow. He seems serious, his voice gone all soft and making you feel gooey inside.

“You just seem… I dunno,” he fumbles, “do you want me to take you home after this?”

Hellooooo opening! “Actually, can I stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, of course.” Fuck, who said that? Dewey? Ah, shit…

“Thanks,” oh oh you should not be rubbing his thigh right now… “I think I’ll go change here in a minute.”

Oh please do, please please puh-leeaaase–

After a brilliant movie drinking game (which Dewey tapped out of), the crowd began to disband. 24 became 20, then 18, then 12. You went out to your car to grab your overnight stuff and Dewey was hoping for a brief reprieve from the assault of your visage. He just needed a few more people to leave so he can sequester himself and rub one out– you know, get his head straight. Ever since you left his lap he’s been rock hard, there’s not enough blood flowing to his brain. The guest count is down to 3– 2 with you in your car, and he can’t wait anymore.

Dewey slipped into the only bathroom in the house and prayed to god nobody noticed him. He barely got his hand wrapped around his shaft when Patty’s fist banged on the door demanding he help clean up. Sulking and agitated, Dewey managed to calm down while cleaning up red solo cups, glass beer bottles, cans, and small pocket sized objects that would need to be returned to the guests after their hangovers subsided (no keys, thankfully, everybody’s got a DD). His “predicament’ is nearly forgotten when you finally return with a bundle of clothes, disappear into the bathroom and reemerge in loose sleepwear with your makeup wiped clean and uh… braless.

You catch him looking. Dewey– surprisingly sober after he gave up drinking half way through his sixth beer– does nothing short of raise a slightly irritated eyebrow at you. “Cold in here, huh?”

“Shut up. You know how uncomfortable it is to sleep in a bra?”

You help him collect a couple bottles that rolled under the couch and walk with him down to Ned’s car. Patty would sort the recyclables from the trash in the morning (late morning, she did a couple rounds of tequila shots thanks to you). It’s almost like the party never happened; you’re shooting the shit again and everything is right in the world. He’s got no ulterior reaction to putting a hand on your hip– that’s just a normal thing in your perfectly platonic relationship. God, he really must have been imagining things, he was beginning to think you were actually trying to flirt with him!

Ned’s bent over the kitchen sink with Patty and holding her hair back. He looks up as you enter the apartment and shakes his head. You and Dewey make yourself scarce by slipping into the shared bathroom to hide. You try to giggle quietly as Dewey surveys the skincare products you covered the counter with. He points to your head and asks, “you wearing that to bed?”

“It’s sewed in, I’m not taking this off for three weeks at least,” you answer. “Get my money’s worth. I can work it like my natural hair.”

Dewey nods. You rub your arm nervously and look for something to say, something to circle back to the whole point of showing up looking like a sexed up goddess. What do guys like? Girls wearing their clothes, right? But you need to phrase it perfectly…

“Dewey?” He looks up from the scrubby lip balm in his hands. “I’m not quite ready to go to sleep yet and it… it is a little chilly in your place. Can I wear your jacket?”

Just to bring your meaning home, you tug on his sleeve– the very jacket on his back. You don’t want just any jacket, you want that one, already warm and scented by him. You don’t miss the way his eyes glance past you like he was reluctant to comply. And yet…

“Yeah, here.” He slips out of it with ease and drapes it over your shoulders. You miss the sigh of relief he makes when you pull the zipper closed and obscure your pebbling nipples. “Think I’m gonna go help Ned put Patty to bed.”

Ned was a scrawny little thing and couldn’t carry her by himself, and she needed to be carried. Competitive by nature, it’s easy to talk her into virtually anything, especially if it feels like girl time. You need Patty in a deep sleep for your plans tonight (sorry not sorry). Dewey’s very sexy as he bears most of Patty’s weight. She’s clinging to Ned, arms around his neck and babbling incoherently while Dewey’s got an arm around her waist and legs, keeping Ned on his feet. You skirt ahead of them and open the bedroom door, help pull her shoes off, her captain insignia, her earrings, you even wipe the spit from her lips and the eyeliner smeared on her cheek.

“You’re my favorite ever,” she whimpers, “I love you so much, you’re like my best friend ever…”

You shush her gently. “You say that about everybody when you’re drunk, baby. I promise I’ll make you a fat breakfast in the morning but you gotta go to sleep now, OK?”

Patty nods. She snuggles into her pillow just as Ned is taking up position as the big spoon when she looks back up at you and asks, “can we go for a run together?”

You blink evenly. “Yes.” You already regret it as she smiles big and wide. It would be just your luck this is the one thing she doesn't forget in the morning.

Finally it's just you and Dewey in the hallway. It feels like you're standing between two choices: his open bedroom door and the living room. But it seems like only you can feel the weight of it.

"Are you sure you want to stay over?," Dewey asks, "you can use my bed."

You perk up out of your heavy mood. "Really?"

"Yeah, I'll take the couch tonight."

He can't possibly miss the way you instantly deflate but he's still not putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Dewey. I'm not going to kick you out of your own room."

He shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'll grab a few blankets."

There's a storage closet in the main building with this one extra soft blanket that Dewey knows you'll love. You on the other hand have got no more patience left. Once the man leaves, you stomp your foot and decide to try one final act.

Dewey returns to the apartment to find an empty, quiet living room. Ned and Patty are in bed, but where are you? He wanders past the bathroom door because it's dark inside and checks his room. There you are reclining on his bed. He could have sworn you were wearing pants before but your legs are bare and his jacket hugs the tops of your thighs. He also could have sworn you were wearing a shirt. He finds both items folded neatly beside you with your underwear right on top.

Oh…

This cannot be happening right now. He just survived tonight by the skin of his teeth and now you were doing this to him. He’s going to pull his hair out, going to scream, it’s so frustrating because he can’t just ask you what you want– you’ll turn the question back on him and he’ll fuck it up. He lets the blanket fall from his grip and with a heavy sigh he whispers in a weak voice, “straight answers only. What are you doing to me? Why you doin’ this?”

You cock your head and answer leisurely, your eye drifting across the items in his room. “You know that’s not how I roll, but if you want me to address the elephant in the room: I'm naked in your bed right now."

Against his better judgement, Dewey moves closer. "I can see that."

One step closer and your eyes find him again. Like an invitation you lean back more, even uncross your legs but go no further. Dewey swallows his tongue and waits for you to elaborate and every second is agonizingly slow.

"You think you can just walk around here with your pretty face and cocky little attitude like it’s nothing,” you said accusingly.

Dewey glared at you. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Well we're in agreement then,” you’re almost sneering at him, but he knows it’s because you’re really frustrated with yourself, “I look and I touch and I feel but I don’t know, you know?”

“Not a clue,” he sighs and sits himself beside you. He’s done trying to keep his distance. “Let’s go back to you being naked in my bed.”

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?,” he repeats incredulously. Dewey leans back on his elbow to look you over from top to bottom. You look damn good in nothing but his jacket. You’ve got the long ends of your red hair in braids that sweep down to your navel. The zipper rests tantalizingly right below your ribcage. Dewey dares to reach out a mollifying hand and give a tiny stroke to that silver keeper. He cannot bring himself to speak above a whisper as he nods, “yeah, I… I like it.”

The tension leaves your shoulders and you wear a small grin. “It’s not too late to take it back. Say no, and I’ll put my clothes back on and sleep on the couch like none of this ever happened. This,” you point between the two of you, “doesn’t change unless we want it to.”

… this was real. In answer, Dewey’s chin wrinkles and he watches his finger travel upwards, drawing a light line up the expanse of your chest between your breasts to feel you shiver at his touch. Thing is he doesn’t want to say no, but wouldn’t it be better? Safer? He asks the question he’s been dying to know all night. “What do you want from me?”

“Whatever I can get,” you answer truthfully. “Whatever you’ll allow. Don’t trouble yourself with labels and things ‘cause what we have has always been so much more than that.”

Dewey feels a weight lift off of his chest. His hand works around your waist and drags you closer, halfway under him and he rests his perspiring forehead on your breastbone. Whatever happens next happens, for better or for worse.

You’re not troubled when Dewey moves the jacket to expose one of your breasts, however you are taken aback when he bites you. You barely manage to stifle your yelp when you feel him growl against your flesh and the sound vibrates straight to your core. Dewey drags his head up and stares you dead in the eye as he kneads your savaged breast.

“All night,” he growls, “all fucking night for this? We could have done this ages ago. The salon, the drive in, Chloe’s cat’s birthday– grocery shopping last week. But no, instead you pick a party full of people and you’ve had me riled up for hours.”

Dewey pinches your hardened peak and you keen. “‘m sorry…”

“No you’re not, but don’t worry: you will be.”

AN: Check Out Part 2 @hoodoo12 @go-commander-kim @escape-your-grape @softbeej @imma-fucking-nerd @werwulfy

#Dewey Finn #Dewey Finn x reader #three bees writing #🐝🐝🐝✒#black reader insert #🖤❤💛#dewey finn x female reader

110 notes · View notes

naturaldisasterfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

34. Part 5

Pressing kisses to the side of Robyn face, she is really just wanting to stand here while I hug her, like she hasn’t even said a word “I feel like because you love me Chris you’re kinder with your words, you mind what you say because you care for how I feel so you won’t tell me the truth, you know” she spoke some shit “I mean, you didn’t lie there because you’re my whole heart, I wouldn’t disrespect you like that so yeah I would mind what I say but if you looked awful I would be like ok Robyn, you really let yourself go. But honestly, with what you went through. A natural birth, how you snapped back just doing things with our daughter, it was perfect, your body will be fine. I can’t wait to have sex with you, I am feeling it. I be jealous of Fenty having some breast, man. It’s hard. You are right, I am careful of my words but that is because I love you. You love me so you’re comfortable, so fucking what you dressed down. Baby you looked great, a new mother. But you’re glowing still, you know how the world is. They have this fake outlook on how people should be, don’t worry about it. Trust me” Robyn nodded her head against my chest, she is so sensitive “nobody knows the real Robyn, I think people would be shook” resting my head atop of hers “that I’m insecure?” She is so cute, nobody understands how adorable she is “that you’re not superhuman, you’re my gummy drop, that is it. Has to happen, my gummy drop” hearing Robyn giggle makes me happy “I think I just want to be sexy for you, like I know you. I know how much you love sex, if you ever go soft on me I’m gonna lose my mind” I snorted laughing “if it happens I can’t stop myself, stop being stupid. You want the terrible two to look after Fenty while I spoil you? Like spend time with you?” Robyn moved her head back “time with me huh? If Fenty is ok then I would love that” nodding my head “oh good” rolling my eyes playfully “just don’t be pulling down your robe unless it’s sexually” fixing the robe as I stepped back “you want me to get your phone? I’ll be back up” Robyn nodded her head, I guess I will just gather the two idiots and see if they will.

Not going to lie, I get why Robyn loves her team and her circle is small like this. I told them that they can take care of Fenty while we spend time together and they are both helping me with some food to take upstairs, I didn’t ask for that. I just literally wanted them to take care of Fenty “pretend you did this and oh, it’s a shame you can’t have sex yet. You could snuggle her I guess but I hope Fenty likes us, and these strawberries are delicious” Jah popped one in his mouth “delicious” I chuckled “thank you both for doing this; you don’t have too you know” sitting on the bar stool watching them both “you better rub her feet” that is a good idea “I just want to spend time with her, just us. I want her to know she is so loved that she has an amazing body. I get like it’s hard to keep up that persona, the world is wanting you to look like that person constantly. It’s hard, I know how that feels because they all want me to be this normal nigga when I ain’t even close to that. I think with Robyn and I we good, we are happy I just think people are going to want to meddle in our lives. They will want to see us fall; it sucks for us because they dislike us that much. I mean not us, but me” shaking my head “I get why they do though Chris, you seem so cocky. You come off as a confident cocky guy that I would not approach, like meeting you at the party I did side eye your ass because I’m like oh no sweetie Robyn is gonna be on that dick and she don’t need that. I was one of those people because outside looking in you seem like a real asshole, but honestly you’re not” look at Jah telling me the truth “I appreciate your honesty, like I get it but that’s my defence mechanism, because I’ve always had to be defensive you know” looking to the side of me “oh hey” placing my arm around Robyn’ waist “you was taking too long” I didn’t expect Robyn to come down “girl, this was supposed to be a surprise but Mel and I are putting together a little something for you both, don’t mind us” smiling at Robyn, she makes me so happy and she doesn’t even see it.

Chris was taking too long so I came down and was not expecting my friends to be putting out a feast for me, that is so cute. Feeling Chris’ thumb lightly rub against my hip as I stood next to him while he sat on the stool “are you ok boo?” Jah asked “I’m ok” my voice broke again “ugh! No! Just I am ok, I just need time, you know. No, not the camera” hiding my face with my hands, I asked Dennis to film but now I regret it “I just, I am hurt. Nobody will understand how that feels if you haven’t been through what I have, like I know Chris has but he blocks it out but I’ve always wanted that, when I say that I mean my dad�� love and it’s hard because I get that barrier because he wants me for money, he sees me as money signs. And when I saw what he did, I was so angry. My daughter, like me ok, but my daughter. Oh it hurt me so much to see it, and now I’m mourning my dad. Like I am trying my best to handle my life already, all I wanted was peace. I wanted my family to be happy, like I am with them. Fenty is the first child, well grandchild and now her grandpa is not around because he sold her like he did me, I am just hurting so much. I will be ok” Chris wrapped his arms around my neck kissing the top of my head “he’s trash Robyn, there is nothing I can say about him. Who the hell talks about their daughter and how they look, that is disgusting” Mel said, nodding my head in agreement. Chris is being so loving towards me, I love it “that is it” I said to Dennis with my lower lip quivering, I am a wreck.

Being in Chris’ arms is making me feel so much better, he is just holding me and not letting go “I hate that you’re crying my baby but, whah we have done for you is cut up fruit. We got the chocolate melted, you two can just snuggle up and be freaky, joking but just relax. We got all the snacks here, candy, got the fries frying, chicken will be out. You both just enjoy your time” I cooed out, that is so sweet of them “I don’t appreciate you both at all, would be nice to just spend some time. With him, with myself without thinking oh no Fenty is going to cry and then we have to just forget the little time together” when I smell Chris I just sniff weed, I miss that so much “Chris, why don’t you show Jah the things Fenty may need or want” stepping back from him “you sure? I can wait here” walking off to go around the counter “yeah, then just come back. So they know what to do, explain her fake cry too. When she needs the attention” I said “what!? You tell me my niece be fake crying!? No way” I chuckled “girl, Fenty be putting on a show. When she wants some attention she will do the fake cry, it’s much more like a kitten crying but when she is hungry you will hear the change in her cry, she is so dramatic” Mel’ eyes widened “I don’t expect anything less from her, oh my god. She is so you, fake ass” Mel put the plate down “I am glad to see you are smiling a little, can I just hug you?” nodding my head with my arms open, this is why I wanted to come here “I love you so much, I am honestly hurting for you. I think this little time will make you feel better” I sighed out heavily, I just feel ok “what is it?” Mel asked.

Mel knows me “I just, maybe that article is right. I look depressed, dragged down. I have gained weight; my vagina still feels weird. I looked better pregnant then I do now. I can’t please Chris, he is literally asking me to do something but because I can’t bring myself to be sexy I can’t, he will end up just looking to others. I am not special Mel, I am worried. You think I am going crazy, but I am not. He loves me yes but how long will it last for? How long will he wait for me, a man that has sex near enough every day, he stopped because I was pregnant but come on, you know what men are like. Men are men, look how long it took me to even get a man that wanted me, I just feel like I need to do better” Mel cringed, she is cringing because I am right “men are men but I believe Chris won’t, I feel like Chris cares about you too much, he is more into wanting to kill someone for you. If he was in cali alone, then I suppose I would think it but he is here, you will feel it Robyn. I can’t make you feel it, he can’t make you feel it but only you can, and you are. This is what the outside don’t see, they don’t see you like this” I sighed out “shit, nobody wanted to wife me. Funny right, sexy doesn’t get you far. It gets you dick and then left; I just want to please Chris. I want him to be happy, he jokes around but those jokes mean something. I dropped my robe naked and watched his reaction” Mel’ eyes bulged out “what, oh girl. You are getting yourself so caught up in this. How are you feeling depressed, actually its common in women that have had babies for this to happen. What did he do?” I keep looking to see if Chris doesn’t overhear “he was shocked, he didn’t like it but not in that way, he felt I was not me and he put the robe on me, I cried. A lot is happening isn’t it?” Mel looked at me in sadness “there is, but I am here” Mel wiped the stray tear “just spend some time, block out the outside world, block out me and Jah entertaining Fenty or making her cry” smiling at her lightly “the blogs are horrible” I mumbled.

I just feel like maybe I am doing too much, with everything. I wasn’t ready for this moment, I wasn’t ready for my own dad to belittle me so it’s hit me badly but I will get over it “Jah, you had my back for Rorrey, we can do it” looking up at Chris, he looks annoyed “but Canada?” Jah said all wide eyed, he looks in a panic “what about Canada?” I asked, “oh did the Jew respond?” Mel said, what on earth is happening with these “did I miss something? I am confused” looking between everyone “you not seen Chris’ video?” shaking my head “clearly not, you have my phone, what did you do Chris?” I really didn’t question when he said video “head of Fenty corp doesn’t know, well it was Chris’ fault” Jah spat “give me my phone” I held my hand out “so the plan is Chris is going to beat Canada dry’ ass in Canada” taking my phone from Mel “why is Drake even involved in this!?” I am confused on that, unlocking my phone “Chris called out people, just watch the video” tapping on Instagram “I will but Chris you are not doing that, just relax. He is a bitch” shaking my head “I think maybe Chris should, Drake mocks you” never did I think I would hear Jah condoning violence “but we are beyond that aren’t we, Drake will be hiding behind his security anyways” let me see this video he has done, I never questioned it.

I sighed out smiling, like I am not even angry “I like it, you looked so angry there. He’s a puppy really, so what did he say? Clearly he’s crying in the corner” locking my phone looking up at Chris “he said come and beat his ass then and said he will send the jet” I sniggered “sure, just send him a picture of us on our wedding day and be done with it Chris, it’s over. I am over it; I am telling you now what will hurt him is that so do it. But I will never hold you back if you hit my dad. And what you said about loving me more then you love yourself, it’s a weird feeling to have that” smiling at him “and this bitch is stood here saying she is worried that Chris would want another piece of pussy, she was doubting you” Mel snitched “what pussy?” Chris said confused “I just feel like I can’t fulfil your needs, I am just thinking stupid Chris. Clearly” waving him off “oh right, that doesn’t bother me like that. I seen it with my own eyes what you went through. I don’t expect sex for months and I accept that, because you went through so much Robyn, I was there” I doubt my husband a lot, I need to stop doing that “I can’t even text anyone back, my phone is going wild since this announcement. People are going crazy, like I can’t even message, just I saw Drake and had to answer back” that video has really made my night “let’s just leave our phones and go upstairs. Let’s pretend this doesn’t exist” I think I am done here, I just want to spend time with Chris alone.

Chris has honestly made me happier, like I was feeling the worst, but that video really made me happy “come on, let’s go” I want to go now, I sighed out smiling “aye, what are you looking at, on your phone?” Chris seems so engrossed in his phone, like he is not even hearing me “Amikka has called me four times in one go, she knows I am on my phone. She is calling again” of course she is “answer it, put it on speaker. Let us all hear what she got to say” Jah is right “yeah, let’s hear it” walking slowly to the counter “ok” Chris answered the call and then placed it on speakerphone “yo” he placed on the counter, Jah gasped rushing to Chris’ side. Oh she is crying, like sobbing crying “chile” Mel said lowly “what is it?” Chris said “is it Aeko, if not then I need to go” I know Chris wants to just put the phone down, that bitch is crying her whole heart out on this call “how could you, this is what you were doing over there? Marrying that bitch, I screwed up that lawyer shit. Fuck you, fuck her and fuck that child you had with her. You really married her? Because she is Rihanna, you married her to gain. I know you, you married her because you know you’re a fucking deadbeat loser, she is also a fucking loser to be with you. She will need to come personally to shut me up because I will be singing to the gods about her precious fucking husband, you fucking married her! I would let you do anything; I was willing to do that for you” I am not going to say anything “I think for your own good you need to sign it; I get you’re angry. I did play you on but I was never into you like that, you know this” hearing Chris’ son in the background “your dad is a psycho, he doesn’t want to speak to you” the oldest thing in the book is to use the child “you chose her over your son, you gave her marriage because you’re stuck Chris. You have no choice, because then you wouldn’t see that girl that looks nothing like you. There is a reason to this, you treated everyone like shit, you get what you deserve. The girl could be Drake child, she has been around” Jah gasped, Chris looked at me as I stared back at him “you can talk down on me but don’t speak on my wife like that, that goes for you and my mother” he said “I hope she has a job, Chris you don’t send her money anymore. That is our money, you will send your son care packages. You will directly pay for his school, medical bills. Until we go to court you ain’t getting a dime bitch and that is on god. You will be begging to sign those papers; you better hope those boutiques hire you. I think you’re getting above your pay grade, next time you mention my name, or even my husbands name every endorsement you are clutching at will be gone! I suggest you apologise to your son, hug him, kiss him goodnight before he ends up here and he’s playing happy families with me because his mother can’t afford to keep a child. Now if you don’t mind Chris needs to rub my feet, disconnect the call” Chris disconnected the call “oh my god! You hear how quiet she got; she is shook!” Mel spat, she got on my fucking nerves talking down on me, she won’t be again.

Jah is gasping for air “I am fighting! Oh my god, baby you about to adopt her child. Oh my god” I shrugged trying to not laugh “she will never call me out of my name again, I promise you. Nobody calls me a bitch unless Chris is dicking me down but even then he doesn’t so yeah, she got another thing coming. And I am being dead ass, you’re rubbing my feet” Chris looked up from his phone “what are you looking at?” he seems too engrossed in that “she is sending me pictures of Aeko crying” shaking my head “turn off your phone, stop entertaining her and Chris. You don’t send her money” he better not, I don’t give a fuck “I won’t, she disrespected my wife. But when you said care packaged what do you mean?” Chris is right, what did I mean “so…” I dragged out “things like clothes, food so you will ask her what she needs. Baby, online shopping exists yeah, you know where she lives but you will not send her money. You pay directly, fuck that bitch! And I am not saying your son will go cold, that is not it but she will not sit on our money until she can bow down and stop this shit. I hope that ain’t the case, I am not ready to be looking after anymore kids. I feel a little weird about meeting that one, I don’t know” walking off to get some water.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction

10 notes · View notes

nitewrighter · 5 years ago

Note

Since he is his future son in law, can we get some Genji and Aedan interactions?

Happy St. Patrick’s day to my favorite clone boi!!

----

Aedan: *sets two glasses down*

Genji: ...

Aedan: It’s a stout--I mean, granted, they can be a bit of an acquired taste, but I thought...what with it being Lá Fhéile Pádraig and all, and, us being off the watchpoint, and well, we never talk so...

Genji: I’ve had stouts before. *pops off his faceplate and holds the glass up*

Aedan: *clinking glass against Genji’s* Sláinte.

Genji: Kanpai. *nods and sips his drink*

Aedan: *nervously drumming his fingers against his glass*

Genji: ...tastes like chocolate.

Aedan: The best ones always do.

*long pause*

Aedan: *still drumming his fingers against the glass*

Genji: ...this was McCree’s idea, wasn’t it?

Aedan: He was all *terrible McCree impersonation* ‘if you’re so spooked whah don’t y’all giddyup and have a beer with him? That oughta ease things up sure as prairie dog in... a... corn... pone...’

Genji: *snorts* You should do that impersonation around him.

Aedan: Did I sound like him?

Genji: Oh no. Not at all.

Aedan: *snorts*

Genji: I appreciate the intention, really. You reaching out like this.

Aedan: But...?

Genji: But... nothing. It’s appreciated. I mean, you also don’t have to bend yourself into situations you’re uncomfortable with just because you’re afraid no one trusts you. You’ve been on this watchpoint several years now. You do have a place here.

Aedan: ...

Genji: Look... no one gets wanting to prove they’re different from their family more than me. And... *shrugs* no one understands the feeling of lots of people in labcoats asking if you’re really human more than me.

Aedan: ...

Aedan: *gulps down a significant portion of his pint*

Aedan: *sets the pint glass down on the table*

Aedan: Thank you.

Genji: Anytime. This is new to me, too. *sips his own beer* Angela’s parents never lived long enough for her to bring someone home to them, and I... well... I wasn’t really the ‘bring someone home to meet your parents’ type before I met her. I’m glad to be able to do this. In some ways I’m a little jealous of you.

Aedan: Oh this position is not enviable, believe me.

Genji: *chuckles* Probably not. But... it does mean a lot to me.

Aedan: ...so I’m... doing okay?

Genji: You’re doing great.

Genji: ...as long as this isn’t some weird thing where you’re asking for my blessing to marry Rei.

Aedan: Oh--god, no--I mean, that’s not happening until way down the line--*catches himself* If it happens at all! Who knows! No one knows! I don’t know! *gulps down another large portion of his beer* Just so we’re clear, I would die for her, though.

Genji: Oh I know. I saw.

#reidan

27 notes · View notes

jamieandgeorgedashigz · 5 years ago

Text

The Script of the Murray Scene from the Joker but it’s Waluigi and Sakurai

Waluigi: Knock knock.

Sakurai: Who's there?

Waluigi: It's the police, Ms Goomba. Your sons have been jumped on by plumber. They’re dead!

Sans: *makes a wah-waaah sound on a trombone*

Daisy: Oh no, no, no! No, you cannot joke about that!

Sakurai: Yeah, that's not funny, Waluigi. That's not the kind of humor we enjoy around here.

Waluigi: Okay... Yeah, you know what? I-I-I'm sorry. I know. It's just, you know, it's been a rough few weeks, Sakurai. Ever since I... Killed those three annoying Villagers.

Crowd: *murmurs and a few gasps can be heard*

Sakurai: Okay, I'm waiting for the punchline.

Waluigi: There is no punchline. It's not a joke.

Sakurai: You're serious, aren't you? You're telling us you killed those three Villagers off camera?

Waluigi: Mm-hmm.

Sakurai: And...why should we believe you?

Waluigi: I’ve got nothing left to lose. Nothing can hurt me anymore. My life is nothing but a comedy.

Sakurai: So let me get this straight. You think that killing those guys is funny?

Waluigi: I do. And I'm tired of pretending it's not. Comedy is subjective, Sakurai. Isn't that what they say? All of you, the system that knows so much, you decide whah's right or wrong. The same way that you decide whah's FUNNY... Or not!

Mario: Get him off-a!

Sakurai: O-Okay, I-I think...I-I might understand it. You...Did this to start a campaign? S-So you could become a fighter?

Waluigi: C'mon, Saku-raaaaaai. Do I look like the kind of wah that could start a campaign? I killed those guys because they were awful. Everybody is awful these days. It's enough to make anyone crazy.

Sakurai: Okay. So that's it, you're crazy. That's your defense for killing three Villagers?

Waluigi: No. They couldn't carry a tune to save their lives!

Crowd: *boos*

Waluigi: Waaaaahhh! Why is everybody so upset about these stupid Villagers?! If it was me dying on the sidewalk, you'd walk right over me! I pass you every day, and you don't notice me! But these Villagers - what, because Luigi went and cried about them on TV?!

Sakurai: You have a problem with Luigi, too?

Waluigi: Yes, I do! Have you seen what it's like out there, Saku-raaaaaai? Do you ever actually leave your office? Everybody just yells, shouts, and screams at each other, NOBODY'S CIVIL ANYMORE!!! Nobody thinks what it's like to be the other guy. You think men like Luigi ever think what it's like to be someone like me?! To be somebody but themselves?! They don't. They think we'll all just sit there and take it like good little boys! That we won't werewolf and go WAAAAHLD!!

Sakurai: You finished? I mean, there’s so much self-pity, Waluigi. You sound like you're making excuses for killing those poor Villagers. Not everybody, and I'll tell you this, not everyone is awful.

Waluigi: YOU’RE awful, Sakurai.

Sakurai: Me? I'm awful? Oh, yeah, how am I awful?

Waluigi: Playing my video. Inviting me on the show. You just wanted to make fun of me. You're just like the rest of 'em.

Sakurai: You don't know the first thing about me, pal. Look what happened because of what YOU did. What it led to. There are riots out there. Two players are in critical condition...

Waluigi: *laughs*

Sakurai: You're laughing. You're laughing! Someone was killed today because of what you did.

Waluigi: *giggles* I know! *pasue* How about another joke, Sakuraaaai?

Sakurai: No, I think we’ve had enough of your jokes.

Waluigi: Whah do you get...

Sakurai: I don't think so.

Waluigi: ...When you cross...

Sakurai: I think we're done with your jokes, that's it.

Waluigi: ...A mentally ill loner with a SOCIETY THAT ABANDONS HIM AND TREATS HIM LIKE TRASH?!?!?!

Sakurai: Call the police, Daisy!

Waluigi: I'll tell you what you get!

Sakurai: Call the police!

Waluigi: YOU GET WHA’ YOU FUCKING DESERVE!!!!!! *throws a Bob-omb out of anger and it explodes*

#waluigi #smash bros #super smash bros #joker #scene #parody #sakurai #nintendo #i made this out of boredom

7 notes · View notes

mysterylover123 · 5 years ago

Text

BNHA Rewatch: Two Heroes

mysterylover123

And before we start Season 3, one more road stop: The Big Freaking Movie, Two Heroes, last year’s surprise anime blockbuster and HeroAca’s first excursion onto the big screen. Time to share my thoughts and rewatch this very entertaining film!

We open with bald eagles, deserts, and cowpoke themes, to make sure we know we’re in America. We fly into “California” which looks more like Las Vegas (not really complaining, I loooove that they picked my hometown state for this) to find young, white schlera eye-having All Might and his hunky bro David Shield kicking ass and taking names. My state’s name, to be precise.

Some exposition follows, basically recapping the premise of HeroAca, as I’m reminded of what a stroke of genius Hori had when he decided to make the MC an easy expositor thanks to his geeky knowledge of all things Hero. Deku will always be Captain Exposition.

Melissa! She’s fun and adorable and amazing, and I just love that the first HeroAca movie chooses to focus on a geeky, kind and energetic lady.

Deku looking back and forth between Melissa’s breasts and All Might’s crotch belt is peak Bi energy.

I’m so jealous that Melissa gets to touch Deku’s hand.

Melissa describing All Might as someone David ‘loves’ is just throwing away all pretence of his heterosexuality, if it ever existed. How the hell did this guy end up with a kid?

Deku blushing around and enthusing over both Melissa and David is max bi energy.

Uraraka’s Annoying Crush Counter: 5

But I’m glad the girls are here! The Bones animators clearly know well what the fanbase wants to see, choosing to give all 6 class 1-A girls at least a cameo in the film, and three of them involved in the main plot. I especially love that, despite being initially pitted against each other, Uraraka and Melissa develop a bit of a womance in the film. OchaLissa ship!

My one major regret about this film is that Mineta is included in the Main Cast. I wish either Mina or Tsuyu had come along for the ride instead - one, they’re better, more lovable characters who could do the same job he does, and two, then we’d have a nearly gender-even cast! (6 Boys: Deku, Katsuki, Tenya, Shoto, Kiri, Kaminari; 5 Girls: Ochaco, Momo, Jiro, Melissa, Mina or Tsu).

Kacchan makes his appearance! This bit was leaked online before the film’s release and drew quite a lot of ire from BKDK shippers and Bakugo fans. I’m mostly annoyed that Deku is acting OOC here; this is Post-Final Exam Deku, post Hero Killer Deku. Would the guy who punched All Might in the face and Bakugo in the face and the Hero Killer in the face be cowering in fear behind Iida, the guy whose life he saved, from the guy he, only a few weeks ago, punched in the face?! Badass Deku Rights!

Ooh a wild Todobaku moment! I always love when they bicker. Or rather, Katsuki bickers and Shoto ignores him.

OH NO you cannot slap me with the Ingenium OST theme and hardcore feels out of nowhere! God this scene is heartbreaking. I love, however, the cut to the whole of Class 1-A and Melissa when they talk about the future.

AH Bakugo’s feet! Why are we staring up his crotch? So this movie has a lot of KiriBaku scenes, and I should probably talk about them a little, since their friendship is a big deal in S3. They’re the only major HeroAca ship I’ve never shipped as a romantic pairing, per se. Like, in this scene, I see Kiri as Katsuki’s wingman, his bro, the guy who teases him about his obvious feelings from someone, not as the guy he has feelings for.

And for Kiri’s sake, I kinda dislike making him basically Bakugo’s sidekick. He willingly hangs out with the guy, when he wants to, in canon, he doesn’t follow him around and become the butt of the joke, and he has lots of other relationships in canon to draw from, so this dynamic between them doesn’t appeal to me.

Melissa being a quirkless kid like Deku is a great idea for the film, especially since she and David still find a way to help others. They’re a brighter image of the person Izuku could have been.

Full Gauntlet is pretty cool

Everyone dresses up pretty! The movie suits/dresses are awesome and (almost) everyone looks great. Why Deku is wearing a baggy zoot-suity mess is beyond me, but hey, he sheds it pretty quickly so I’m not complaining.

If by ‘female assassin’ you mean Beauty Queen. Jiro is gorgeous.

OK the plot ensues! Darn, I could’ve easily enjoyed a movie that was just everyone hanging out and goofing off...ah well, I still love what we got.

This villain does what neither Tomura nor All for One could ever do! Subdue All Might! My god he’s a criminal mastermind!

Deku wants to help, and everyone but Shoto basically piles on the bandwagon afterwards. “And me!” “And me!” “Me too!” “And Me” “Nobody cares Mineta.” I like how they bring up the Powers dilemma, since that’s a big deal in Season 3.

I was pretty impressed by the amount of level grinding our heroes had to do to make it to the top floor. 200 freaking floors, that’s impressive.

Todoroki saved Bakugo! Yay! BTW I love all the tactical planning stuff in this portion, and how lots of characters get to contribute.

10 little superheroes, trying to save the day. Two got lost and then there were eight.

8 little superheroes, escaping from the garden. One saved the others and then there were seven.

7 little superheroes running against the sea, four were trapped by robots and then there were three. (i don’t count mineta).

Three little superheroes, reached the top and flew; one had to float them so then there were two. (she’s fine, Bakugo saved her. Save to win!)

Two little superheroes, faced with a gun. One fell out the window and then there was - never mind, she saved him, he’s fine.

That was fun. Anyway, to sum, the group gets split up as they work to get to the top, leaving only Deku and Melissa to reach the final boss dungeon. Highlights include the usual Kamijiro bantering, Todobaku making an awesome combat move, Uraraka standing against the coming onslaught of robots in a weirdly dramatic scene, and Reciproburst.

Dislikes include Kirishima being portrayed as not much use and kind of stupid (c’mon, he can do better than that!) and Uraraka not getting to kick any real ass other than floating Melissa and Deku.

So we make it to Dramatic Plot Twist Tower and find out that David set up the whole thing. I joke, but I actually didn’t see this coming the first time around and was genuinely surprised. I also think it fits really well with the story they’re telling here: about trying to hold onto the past and forgetting to look to the future. I usually measure good plot twists in terms of how they change the story, characters and themes, and this one does.

On the other hand, Sam betraying him is just kind of silly. “Oh no, not...that guy!”

The villain being named Wolfram makes me wonder if there are any secret Buffyverse fans on Bones’ writing staff. With the next movie’s villain be named Hart?

I love how Melissa is a quirkless character who gets to save the day every bit as much as the powered ones. Also, Deku is freaking awesome in this scene, ngl. It has vibes of his fight with Muscular, that “pinned by an unstoppable wall” thing.

And this has vibes of Deku vs Overhaul trying to save Eri. OMG S4 IS GONNA KILL ME. Anyway Deku tries really really hard to save David Shield and does lots of cool leaps and gets beaten up while doing it, enough to earn some of Wolfram’s respect, but is unable to. Fortunately...

Watashi Ga Kita!

But then...duh duh duh! Wolfram has that power-enhancer-plot MacGuffin! Actually, it’s not a MacGuffin now, because now we the audience kind of care about it. It has weight, it’s significant. The characters care about it, but there’s more to it than just being an interchangeable object.

I LOVE how they animated the metal on this guy. That’s Metalbending. OMG.

Class 1-A showing up and kicking ass as always. I just wanna quibble for a second with how this movie uses Howitzer Impact: a giant mind-blowing explosion in manga canon, a small underwhelming fizzle here.

DUH DUH DUH DRAMATIC PLOT TWIST. Again this one floored me the first time around. My jaw actually dropped when AFO’s theme started playing. Holy crap WHAH How what how. I’m not as excited about this plot twist, as it basically just happens for the sake of being shocking, but hey, that is clearly something AFO would do, and I like seeing him and hearing his theme here anyway, so who cares. Just roll with it!

And now, the reason this movie was made and the premise behind it. We never, in the canon of the manga, actually get to see All Might and Deku fight the same villain at the same time, so the movie I think was made for that purpose: DOUBLE DELAWARE DETROIT SMASH + YSR

OH YOU SAY RUN. You could soundtrack a scene of people sitting around staring at the wall and turn it into the most epic thing ever. I will never get tired of this beautiful, peerless, impossibly good composition. And this is honestly one of my favorite YSR scenes, because dayum, you can’t get much cooler than the Double DD smash.

Visual storytelling here is on point. David Shield’s image of All Might turning into Deku is perfect.

We end on a sunrise, fittingly, and Long Hope Philia sountracked credits - with a small bit of depressing to end on, as we see David is probably gonna get arrested and All Might can’t do nothing about it.

Two Heroes is great. My quibbles with it are all minor. It’s the perfect first movie for BNHA; it is big and bombastic and action-packed, but more important, it gets what MHA is about at it’s core. BNHA is a story about the prior generation of heroes (and villains) passing the torch down to the next one. You know, like how teachers pass info onto their students in Academia. The movie gets that, and it delivers it with aplomb. It’s a great script, every scene and moment is necessary and everything happens in the right place and right order. It’s a thrill to watch, and I can’t even begin to imagine what insane stuff they’re gonna put in Movie #2 BKDK Boogaloo. Starting S3 tomorrow!

BKDK CORNER:

On a rewatch, I’m a little more OK with this scene, because Deku pretty quickly bucks up and takes the challenge - and he doesn’t exactly cower from Kacchan, Iida just gets in the way. I also love that gay sounding “Kacchan, people are watching!” line in the sub.

All of Deku’s Love interests where white flowers on their fancy wear.

NGL this is my favorite part of the movie. That is the sweetest, softest, most endearing smile Bakugo has ever had, and Todoroki seeing it and smirking is just perfect. Baku is peak Tsundere in this scene.

RANKER: The Formal Wear

Girls:

4. Momo - I like the tiara, and the dress is kind of a nice color.

3. Melissa - pretty but a little birthday cake-y.

2. Ochaco - Very cute and well-tailored. The tights really sell it.

1. Jiro - unconventional is the winner of the day here.

Boys:

6. Izuku - Deku where the f did you get that suit? Take it off, please. Why is your taste in clothing so bad.

5. Kirishima - it’s ok, but a little generic.

4. Kaminari - the waiter look isn’t half bad on him

3. Iida - sharp dressed, of course. It looks nice!

2. Todoroki - perfectly handsome, and of course his suit is white.

1. Bakugo - that vest tho. damn.

#my hero academia #my hero academia two heroes #bnha movie #midoriya izuku #All Might #melissa shield #katsuki bakugou #katsudeku #bnha two heroes

50 notes · View notes

vfdbaudelairefile13 · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter Thirty-Four:

The One Where the Baudelaires Make It To Curdled Cave

Klaus Baudelaire looked around and noticed that he was on a small platform that was detached from the rest of Aunt Josephine’s house. He looked around for his baby sister. “Sunny!” he screamed as loud as he could, hoping to be heard over the wind. He slowly crawled to one of the edges of the platform and looked down into the water. He didn’t see anything that resembled his sister. “ Sunny! ” he cried.

“Klaus!” a voice called from afar. He looked in each direction until he finally saw that Sunny was safe on the side of Aunt Josephine’s house that seemed more stable. When Klaus had looked into the water for his sister, he noticed that the platform he was on was being held up by several of the spidery wooden stilts.

Both Baudelaires looked at the massive gap that was between them. Both frowning once they realized that Hurricane Herman had done the worst thing possible. It had separated them.

“Sunny! Stay back!” Klaus yelled as Sunny crawled closer to the edge. She looked down into the water frowning.

“Jump?” She suggested but Klaus shook his head.

“There’s no way I’d make it!’ He called out. Tears beginning to form in his eyes. He looked around him. A few objects were still on the platform with him. He saw two fire extinguishers, an anchor, the broken remains of a bookshelf, and what was left of two window frames. He sighed.

Sunny looked around the area that she was. She had several objects in her arsenal but she didn’t know what could help Klaus. “Ideas?” she called out to Klaus, which meant, “Any ideas?”

Klaus shrugged his shoulders, wiping tears from his cheek. “No. I can’t...I can’t think of anything, Sunny!”

“No deficere!” She yelled, which meant, “Don’t you dare give up!. We’ll think of something! We’ve gotten this far, we can get through this! ”

Klaus just sat defeated on the platform wondering when the wind was going to end his torment. He looked at his sister frowning. He couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t leave her alone with Olaf. He placed a gentle hand on his chest remembering what Olaf did to him and imagining what Olaf would do to Sunny if Klaus wasn’t around to protect her. He didn’t want this to be a reality but he felt like there was nothing he can do to get out of this situation.

He watched his sister pace back and forth, slowly as to not disturb the foundation of her own area. She stopped. Sunny quickly pulled the ribbon out of her hair and began to toy with it in her fingers. Klaus watched as Sunny closed her eyes and began to tie her hair up with the hair ribbon.

“What are you doing?” Klaus asked confused as to where his sister had learned to tie up her hair all on her own.

Sunny shrugged her shoulders. “Vi!” Sunny shouted, which probably meant, “Honestly, I’m not sure. I just thought tying my hair up would help me concentrate better!”

Klaus smiled at his sister’s randomness, but then remembered his current situation. He knew the remainder of Josephine’s house was going to sooner or later fall into the lake. He didn’t want his sister to be a part of that. “Sunny, just...just get out of there. Leave. Go find help!” he called out.

“No!” She yelled.

“Sunny! Go!”

“Never!”

“Sunny! The foundation of Aunt Josephine’s house is going to topple sooner or later, you should just go!” he pleaded with her, tears spilling from his eyes. “Hide from Olaf! He’ll believe we both died!”

“No mort!” she shouted, which meant, “You’re not going to die!”

Klaus shook his head and sighed. Looking over one of the edges again. He wasn’t as optimistic as his baby sister. “Go! Why won’t you go! Save yourself!”

“No!” she yelled back angrily.

“ Why!?”

“ Just us!” She yelled back, which meant, “Because it’s just us now. You and I...I’m not going anywhere. You wouldn’t leave me and I’m not leaving you!”

Klaus just smiled at his baby sister. He understood exactly why she wasn’t going to leave him. She was also absolutely right, he wouldn’t leave her. Ever. He watched as Sunny ripped the ribbon out of her hair again and tried tying her hair up again. She kept her eyes closed until a smile started forming on her face. “Ancoris!” she shouted, which meant, “you need to move that anchor to where you’re sitting now!”

He looked back at the anchor. “What? Why?”

“Beam!” she replied pointing down to the stilt that slightly connected the siblings’ platforms, this meant, “You’re going to use it to break that beam!”

Klaus looked at her with wide eyes. “Are you nuts!? That’s the only thing keeping me up!”

“I know” Sunny cried out.

Klaus looked at his sister and then the beam again. He didn’t fully understand her logic but she was the one who came up with a plan to get the siblings out of their lunch with Captain Sham. He took a deep breath and went towards the anchor. He used the two fire extinguishers to help him move the anchor to where Sunny had suggested. He looked up at his sister again who gave him a thumbs up.

“Sunny, if this doesn’t end well,” Klaus said as he looked at his sister fearfully. “Just...just know you were the best little sister a kid could ask for. And I love you.”

Sunny smiled at her brother. “Best bro!” Sunny shouted back. “Love!” this was Sunny’s way of saying, “You’re the best brother I could’ve asked for and I love you, too.”

“On three!” Klaus shouted as Sunny nodded.

“One!” he called out as he took a deep breath.

“Two!” she called out giving her brother an optimistic smile, although she was terrified.

“Three!” Both Baudelaires shouted simultaneously. As Klaus pushed the anchor off the platform with all his might. The anchor broke the stilt and the platform Klaus stood on began to wobble and tilt. To both children’s horror, it began to tilt backward. Sunny looked fearfully at her brother believing that her idea had backfired. But then with a final crack of one of the other stilts the platform began to tilt forward. Klaus waited until the platform was close enough to the rest of the house before he jumped. Falling on his knees. Sunny rushed to him and hugged her brother tightly. As the platform hit the rest of the house, the foundation that held the house up broke. With a loud creak, Klaus jumped to his feet and picked up his baby sister. Holding her tightly to his chest, he ran out of the house barely making it to the front door, as he and Sunny turned around to watch as Aunt Josephine’s entire house plummeted into Lake Lachrymose, along with all of their belongings.

Klaus fell to his knees in relief still holding his baby sister as the freezing rain poured down on the children harder. Both children looked at one another, they could tell the other was frightened. But they were relieved that they had escaped. And for that moment in time, that’s all that mattered to the two Baudelaires. As they huddled together, trying to share the warmth of Klaus’ jacket. Klaus and Sunny took a moment to catch their breath and enjoy each other’s company.

I have seen many amazing things in my short but troubled life. My associate has also seen many amazing things in her short and troubled life history. I have seen the burnt remains of a hotel and the inside of a sub-sub-library that holds the world’s greatest secrets and that helped me and my associate with our research. My associate has seen every inch, every corridor of this organization's secret tunnels which lead to some surprising places. But we still cannot imagine what it was like to watch Aunt Josephine’s unstable house topple into Lake Lachrymose. My own research tells me that the children watched in mute amazement as the peeling white door had slammed shut behind them and began to crumble, as you might crumple a piece of paper into a ball. I have been told that the two children hugged each other even more tightly as they heard the rough and ear-splitting noise of their home breaking lose from the side of the hill. But I cannot tell you how it felt to watch the whole building fall down, down, down, and hit the dark and stormy waters of the lake below.

After a minute, Klaus looked at Sunny. “We have to get to the Fickle Ferry,” he said shivering. Sunny nodded her head shivering as well. Klaus opened his jacket to allow his sister to wiggle her way inside. “Don’t worry, Sunny. I’ll share my jacket with you.”

Klaus started walking down the hill towards Damocles Dock praising Sunny nearly the entire way about her two brilliant plans she had. Sunny nodded her head and smiled. She had successfully bought them some time and she had saved Klaus’ life. There wasn’t much more she wanted to accomplish, besides murdering Olaf.

The storm was rising, and the children could tell that the wind and the rain wanted nothing more than to grab them and throw them into the raging waters of Lake Lachrymose. Klaus held his sister close to him from inside his jacket as they walked along the flooding road. Once or twice a car drove by, and the Baudelaires had to scurry into the muddy bushes and hide, in case Captain Sham was coming to retrieve them. When they finally reached Damocles Dock, their teeth were chattering and their bodies were so cold they could scarcely feel their fingers and toes. The sight of the CLOSED sign in the window of the Fickle Ferry ticket booth was just about more than they could stand. You see, during the tourist season at Lake Lachrymose, the Fickle Ferry brings visitors from all over the world to enjoy the sunshine, fresh air, smoked mackerel. The ferry leaves every seventeen minutes to the Lavender Lighthouse, where tourists can walk to Curdled Cave or they could bask in the lighthouse’s pale purple glow. But, unfortunately for the Baudelaires, during the off-season, Lake Lachrymose has very few visitors, which is why the ferry company has added two words to the bottom of their schedule in fine print, a phrase which here means, “you might miss reading it until it was too late.”

“Weather permitting…” Klaus said angrily. Sunny looked up at him.

“Whah?” she asks.

“It means it’s closed! ” Klaus cried, his voice rising with despair and in order to be heard over Hurricane Herman. “How will we get to Curdled Cave now?”

“Manere?” Sunny suggested, which meant, “Can we wait ‘til it opens?”

“No, it won’t open until the storm is past,” Klaus pointed out, “and by then Captain Sham will find us and take us far, far away. We have to get to Aunt Josephine as soon as possible. But I am not sure how. We can’t swim there.”

“Entro!” Sunny agreed, which meant, “And we don’t have time to walk around the lake, either.”

Both children looked around looking for any businesses that might be opened. They both jumped when they saw a man in a bright red raincoat with a large pair of sunglasses walking by them.

“Are you children lost?” the man with a very deep voice asked them. The children could have sworn that they have heard this man’s voice before. He wore a sad, distraught face.

Klaus looked at Sunny and then at the man. “Yes and no,” he replied. “We were hoping to take the ferry to Curdled Cave but it seems to be closed,”

“Sorry, kids. I just closed. Why would you need to take a ferry in the middle of a hurricane anyway,”

“Subitis!” Sunny chimed in, which meant, “It’s an emergency.” Klaus was quick to translate.

The man stared at the children. “An emergency, you say?”

“Yes. I understand that you just closed and I understand that it is probably a crazy request, but do you think we could get a quick ride to Curdled Cave?” Klaus asked. Both children had their doubts that the man would agree but it didn’t hurt to ask. They’ve had luck with some adults. Both children remembered the strange man, Kronk, from Uncle Monty’s who helped them sneak back into the Reptile Room and who also helped them break into Stephano’s suitcase.

The man sighed, “I don’t know, kids. There are reasons why we close up shop during weather like this,”

“We understand. But as my sister said before, it’s an emergency.” Klaus said in a pleading voice. “We haven’t any money, but if you did help us with this you’d be helping two very unfortunate orphans with a serious dilemma.” Klaus was trying to use every ounce of sympathy he could garner from this man. Sunny looked up at the man and gave him the world’s cutest puppy dog face.

The man sighed again, deeper this time. “You know what, I can use some adventure in my life. You kids wait right here. I’ll be right back.” The man said as he disappeared towards the Fickle Ferry.

Klaus and Sunny looked at one another. “Easy,” Sunny commented, which meant, “That was easier than I thought.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, Sunny.” Klaus pointed out. “I thought it would take more arguing and persuasion, but he cracked pretty quickly.”

Sunny just shrugged in response, unsure of what to say. Both Baudelaires found it odd that they were able to convince this man to help them that quickly. They didn’t have many adults willing to help them.

The Baudelaires waited in silence for the man to return. They shivered against each other in the rain. Finally, as the wind and rain began to pick up around the children, the man came back holding a set of keys and a small coat and two raincoats. “Here, kiddo,” the man said, “a passenger today left this here jacket. I thought it’d help so you both can properly keep warm,” he said handing Klaus the infant-sized coat. “I hope it fits,”

“Thank you, sir, that means a lot,” Klaus said as he helped his sister put the jacket on. It was a tight fit, but that just meant she was snug and warm. The man handed Klaus a blue raincoat and handed Sunny a yellow infant-sized raincoat.

“There are life jackets on the ferry. I’m ready when you two are,” the man said.

Klaus and Sunny looked at one another. Usually, the children would be entirely skeptic of this man and his overly friendly and helpful demeanor. But both Baudelaires knew they were on a time crunch. So they followed the man onto the small ferry. He ushered them to follow him to the captain's quarters, which was an enclosed space upon the ferry. Klaus sat Sunny down after putting her into a life jacket. He then quickly put on a life jacket for himself sitting down next to Sunny. Both children watched the man who looked confused and uncomfortable.

“Do you know how to operate this ferry?” Klaus asked after a minute.

“Uh, huh. Yeah. Of course, I do,” the man said, “I...own this ferry company, kid.”

“My name’s Klaus,” Klaus replied, “and this is my baby sister, Sunny.”

“Nice to meet you children.” the man replied shaking Klaus’ hand then turning his attention back to the ferry’s controls. “The name’s Barkin. Steve Barkin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Steve,” he replied as Sunny nodded. “And thank you again. This means a lot.”

“Well, how else would you have gotten to Curdled Cave?” Steve asked laughing as he finally started up the ferry.

“Furantur,” Sunny commented, which meant, “I would’ve convinced him to steal a sailboat and we would’ve just figured it out from there.” Klaus translated while looking at Sunny like she was fucking crazy.

“We were not going to steal a sailboat!” Klaus corrected, “It’s...a wicked thing to do. Our parents raised us better than that.”

“Moralis,” Sunny replied, which meant, “Not only do we literally want to kill a man, but we broke into his suitcase at Monty’s and you technically assaulted him back at the grocery store. It’s a bit too late to act as though we have the moral high ground, don’t you think Klaus?” Klaus translated for Steve but squinted his eyes at his sister.

“Ignoring the part about wanting to kill Olaf, we had to break into his suitcase at Monty’s!” Klaus said as he looked at Steve. “Look, I promise, we’re not bad kids. We’re just desperate.”

Steve gave him a small frown. “I get it,” he said steering the ferry, “Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. No matter how wicked it seems. No matter what the consequences are. Morality isn’t black and white.”

Klaus frowned. “I guess you’re right,”

“If it means anything, coming from a complete stranger, you kids seem noble...enough,” Steve said not looking at either child. Klaus watched as the man took a deep breath and focused on his task at hand. The children looked outside the windows of the captain’s quarters as the sky was lit up by lightning bolts flickering. The wind howled all around them and the waters of Lake Lachrymose were rough and choppy. Klaus felt like he was going to get seasick as the ferry bounced up and down passing the smaller waves. It didn’t help that the entire time, Steve was looking as nervous as the children.

As Hurricane Herman continued to terrorize around them, the orphans sat next to each other with faces of awe and amazement. When Steve turned around to check on the children, if he didn’t know any better, he would have thought their lives were filled with joy and happiness, because even though they were exhausted, damp, and in very great danger, they began to laugh and smile in triumph. They were both so relieved that something had finally gone right that they laughed as if they were at an amusement park instead of in the middle of a lake, in the middle of a hurricane, in the middle of trouble. As the storm wore itself out splashing waves both around and over the sailboat and flashing lightning over their heads, the Baudelaires sat silently in the ferry as they slowly crossed the vast and dark lake. Little could prepare the children for the crossing to Curdled Cave at the hands of an angry and ill-humored lake, as the storm began to pass and the waters slowly calmed. The Baudelaires couldn’t help but feel a small sense of accomplishment, a rare moment of joy in their otherwise woeful lives, they had made it. They had figured a way to get excused from their lunch with Captain Sham, they had managed to decode Aunt Josephine’s note, they had managed to escape Josephine’s house in the midst of a hurricane that seemed as eager as Sham to kill them, and they had successfully managed to convince a helpful stranger to take them across the lake. They made it. Both Baudelaires decided that if their guardian couldn’t rescue them, then they would rescue their guardian.

Steve dodged the Wicked Whirlpool and noticed that the waves were getting smaller and smaller, he turned to the children. “The storm seems to be calming down,” he said in his deep, bellowing voice.

Klaus stood up and stood near Steve to take a look out of the front windows of the captain’s quarters. “Thank you, again, Steve. You honestly don’t know how much this means to my baby sister and me.”

“I hope everything goes well,” Steve said absentmindedly, “So if you don’t mind my asking, is it really just you two?”

Sunny frowned and looked up at Klaus. Klaus sighed, looking down to the ground. “Yeah. It’s...just us. Our...parents died in a fire not too long ago. We’re trying to find our guardian.”

“And you believe she’s at Curdled Cave?”

Klaus nodded his head. “It’s a long story. I...I rather not talk about it,”

Steve nodded. He looked over at Sunny, who was looking at the starry night sky. “You know, she’s adorable,” Steve said pointing at the younger Baudelaire, changing the subject.

Klaus, who hated when anyone called his baby sister adorable, felt a bit uneasy after Steve said that but decided to ignore it. They were out in the middle of the lake, even if the stranger wanted to take Sunny where would he go?

Klaus smiled. “She is,” he said chuckling, “You know when she was first born...I didn’t like her at all. I am glad I changed my mind about her, though.” He looked down at Sunny. “She’s all I have left.” He wiped tears from his eyes.

“It’s hard being an older sibling sometimes,” Steve commented.

Klaus’ face lit up and he looked at Steve. “Are you an older sibling?”

Steve laughed. “Nope. I’m the youngest of three, actually. I have an older brother and sister, they’re twins. Polar opposites.” Steve frowned. He missed his siblings dearly. He remembered his youthful days in VFD alongside Jacques and Kit and he wished those days hadn’t ended but it was too late to fix anything from the past.

“Sometimes, I wish I had an older sibling,” Klaus said as Steve made an ‘Oh the Things I Could Tell You That Would Shatter Your World’ face. Klaus didn’t see this obvious face, which was perfectly fine with Steve. He wouldn’t be able to backtrack and explain why he had made such a face. And there was no way that he was going to tell the Baudelaires about Violet before he told Violet about the Baudelaires. “Then I wouldn’t have to worry about Sunny so much.”

“Hey!” Sunny said looking up at her brother. “Coetus!” she shrieked, which meant, “You don’t have to worry for me. This is a group effort, bro. ”

“No offense, Sunny,” Klaus said laughing.

“Taken!” Sunny said rolling her eyes at her brother.

Steve frowned. “Maybe things will get better and you won’t have to worry so much,”

Both Klaus and Sunny snickered at this thinking about Count Olaf and how obsessed and unhinged he was about getting his hands on the Baudelaire fortune. He had kidnapped Sunny in hopes of making Klaus complacent to his abusive ways for the next six years of their lives. He had killed Uncle Monty and then he tried to make Aunt Josephine end her own life. With this level of obsession, both Baudelaire orphans felt like he would never stop.

Klaus looked up at the kind stranger. “What about you?” He asked after staring at Steve for a minute trying his best to form his question.

“What about me?” Steve asked as he continued to steer the ferry across Lake Lachrymose. He was happy to see that Hurricane Herman was over. Now he and the kids were in no danger at all.

“Did your siblings ever screw up so bad that it...ruined you?” Klaus asked in more of a whisper hoping Sunny couldn’t hear him.

“‘They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra just for you.” Steve recited in a hoarse whisper, closing his eyes immediately thinking of his daughter and even thinking about the Baudelaires, who his actions were heavily affecting.

Klaus looked curiously at the man. “Wait...I think...I know that poem. My father used to recite it to me...except he would blur out the cuss words.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. It’s a favorite of mine.” Steve said quickly.

Steve finally looked at him and frowned. “But to answer your question,” he said desperately changing the subject, “No…In all honesty, I’d say I messed up so bad, I ruined them. ” The truth hurt him to admit but he knew that admitting it would make Klaus feel better. He hated that the kid was doubtful about whether or not he was a good older brother. “But...I understand your stress, Klaus.”

“How so?”

“Well in a way, having a younger sister is slightly like having a daughter,” Steve explained. “You battle the world to keep the evil out and to keep her free from your own demons and your pain. No matter what the cost.”

“I guess if you look at the two like that, they are slightly similar,” Klaus said taking in the words Steve spoke.

Steve looked towards Klaus, who was still frowning. Steve could tell he wasn’t convinced. “If you care to take a random stranger’s opinion,” Steve said after a moment. “I think you’re doing a good job. Your parents would be proud of you.” His voice was sincere but hesitant as he said the last sentence.

Klaus stared from Steve to Sunny, who had fallen asleep with her head on an extra life jacket. He smiled. He didn’t truly take Steve’s words fully to heart because to Klaus, he was just a kind stranger who had argued to help them whom he just met barely an hour ago. But it was a truly kind thing to say even if Klaus believed at the time that the man who introduced himself as Steve Barkin, had never met his parents. It made him feel like a lot of weight had been taken off his shoulders even if it was just for a moment and even if Olaf still posed as a threat.

“Thanks, Steve,” Klaus said finally. “That means a lot, you can’t imagine how much that means. And for what it’s worth, maybe your siblings aren’t screwed up because of you...maybe it was because of horrible circumstances that no one could fix nor see coming. I know it’s not much coming from me, some unfortunate, strange orphan but…”

Steve smiled. “No...that means more than you could ever imagine.”

Steve smiled on the outside but he felt shattered on the inside. Had Klaus known more about his own mother’s past, he’d know the man standing near him was, in fact, the one to blame for fucking up more than just his own sibling’s lives. His actions had not only cost VFD’s schism to grow more and more, but it altered the course of many people’s lives. Including the Baudelaire’s parents, who were not innocent in this entire ordeal. He knew he couldn’t explain this to Klaus or Sunny Baudelaire, because then they might not want his help. They might not want him near them. They might even see him as vile and despicable as Olaf. There wasn’t anything that he could say that wouldn’t be admitting to these children that his decisions eventually caused their parents’ deaths. In a sick way of looking at things, He felt as though he had orphaned the Baudelaires. He might not have set the blaze that engulfed the Baudelaire mansion. But he did push the domino that caused this horrible fate. Steve decided to be silent the rest of the way to Curdled Cave, afraid that if he spoke to either child anymore then he’d break down crying and say too much.

Through my research I can tell you that after a dreadful night at the opera and the theft of an object, that you would think wouldn't cause as much trouble as it truly did, ‘Steve’ spent most of his life in a melancholy, distraught state. He was wracked with guilt and heartbreak. Although no amount of research could answer hypothetical questions pertaining to the plethora of ‘what ifs’ of the world. I can say with the utmost confidence that ‘Steve’ may not have survived through this long, seemingly never-ending depression spell if it weren’t for the only source of light in his life. Which was obviously his daughter, Violet, whom my research shows was doing a bit of research of her own.

Steve and Klaus noticed a faint, pale purple light shining through the windows at the same time. “Lavender Lighthouse!” they both cheered simultaneously. Klaus smiled knowing their destination was close by. But Steve smiled for a different reason, although he didn’t care for the shade of lavender, the faint purple light reminded him of his daughter. He missed her. There wasn’t a minute where he didn’t think about her and regret the lies he would tell her.

“Lake Lachrymose...is actually really pretty,” Klaus commented.

“It sure is, kid.” Steve agreed as he looked for the mouth of the cave. Steve turned the wheel of the ferry into the direction of the cave. He stopped quickly when he noticed that the bottom of the ferry was hitting rocks. “Well, I guess we’re here.”

Klaus picked up Sunny, who opened her eyes slowly. “Sunny, we’re here,” Klaus whispered as he grabbed the extra life jacket. “Would I be able to take this for my guardian?”

Steve nodded. “Oh, and don’t worry bout the jacket. If the owner comes back for it, I’ll just buy the kid a new one. Sunny, here, might need it. Just cause the storm broke doesn’t mean it’s not chilly out.”

“Thank you,” Klaus said.

“Tanks!” Sunny shrieked smiling at Steve.

“You got it from here?” Steve asked peering outside, noticing that there was a decent sized sailboat. Obviously, it was Josephine’s.

“Yeah, we should be. The storm is over. So sailing back shouldn’t be an issue.” Klaus said.

Steve nodded patting Klaus softly on the back. “Stay safe, kid.”

“We will,” Klaus said. “If we see you later in town. I can have my guardian pay you for your troubles…”

“No need,” Steve said. “I volunteered to help you.”

“Thanks again, Steve,” he replied as he turned to leave. Sunny waved goodbye to the helpful stranger as she held on to the extra life jacket for Aunt Josephine. Both Baudelaires felt a weird sense of dread as they walked away from the helpful stranger. They didn’t understand why they were feeling this way.

As he and Sunny disembarked from the Fickle Ferry, Steve frowned. He continued to wave to them until they were at the end of the cave’s mouth where it was more sand than rocks. Klaus and Sunny turned around one last time to wave to him, as he steered away from the children, he too, had a sense of dread. Part of him thought it would be better to stay here to make sure everything went swimmingly. But Olaf was nowhere around. There was no need to wait around and see how the story played out. Besides he had to get this ferry back to the Damocles Dock before anyone realizes that he stole it. He was still very surprised that he knew how to operate the ferry. He hoped that this would be the last time he had to intervene in the children’s lives. He hoped Josephine could keep them safe. He wasn’t sure why she was at Curdled Cave during Hurricane Herman, but he remembered Josephine Anwhistle as a fierce and formidable woman, she’d have to be to sail across the lake during a hurricane. He thought. He laughed to himself, he and Beatrice used to do insane things in their youth but if anyone ever gave them a run for their money, it would have been Josephine and Ike Anwhistle.

He crossed the lake hoping that everything was going to be fine. Next on his agenda was to go help Larry and make sure Olaf didn’t murder him too. Then he’d leave and head back to the city. Where he can hopefully get back to his research pertaining to the Baudelaire fire.

4 notes · View notes

their-destinys-writer · 7 years ago

Text

Caged - Chapter 12

Rated: Teen

Chapter: 12/?

Word Count: 11,523

Ao3 / FFnet / Wattpad

A/N: Celebrating over 1,200 kudos in Ao3, with an extra long chapter and a surprise in the end. Enjoy!

PS: There’s a link in the chapter of an art by @edendaphne that inspired me to write that scene. Be sure to check out their art too. And remember the art came first.

Caged Chapter 12 - Laying it All Out

“Ch-Ch-Ch-Chaaat?” Marinette stuttered, dropping the spray that was in her hand.

“Long time, no see,” Chat Noir smirked, hands on his hips. “Well, half an hour, to be more precise. And who’s your friend here?” He leaned towards Félix.

Marinette looked to her side, where Félix had turned whiter than a sheet of paper.

“Uh…” the boy uttered.

“You know, I couldn’t help but overhear while I was passing by something about -oh, what was it- ‘Qualities befitting of a Princess’?” Chat Noir clucked his tongue. “Now, I don’t know if you’ve been watching TV lately, but I have a pet peeve about people using the nicknames I assign to people. Something about it just,” he exaggerated a deep breath, “really prickles my fur.”

What is going on?! Marinette started to panic.

“Chat?”

“I-I…” Félix cleared his throat. “I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t think what?” The leather-clad hero placed a foot on the bench and leaned closer to the civilian, forearms now resting on his knee. “That you would be caught? That I would never find out?”

“Chat.” This time, Marinette called with a frown on her face.

“And a little mouse told me this isn’t the first time you’ve used that nickname. Is it a habit of yours to try to take other people’s place?”

“Chat Noir!” Marinette called firmly this time.

The superhero whipped his gaze to her, like he remembered Félix was not the only one sitting on that bench. When his eyes locked on hers, her heart did a summersault, remembering her conversation with Tikki before either of the boys showed up. Her cheeks started heating up, and when his eyes softened, she knew: Félix was not Chat Noir.

The girl bolted up to stand next to her partner. Her mind was going back and forth between her realization of Félix’s lie and her embarrassment at the thought that she might have feelings for Chat Noir. So much so, that she wasn’t sure on which one to act first.

“You—Him—Whah…Félix? Chat? You…” Spit it out! Her brain tried to salvage what was left of those words, but her mouth just wouldn’t cooperate. “Going what on—I-I mean, on going on—M-mean I—Uuugh!”

Both boys arched an eyebrow simultaneously, as Marinette pulled on her pigtails.

“WHAT IS GOING ON?!” she finally managed to get out.

Instantly, Félix shifted his eyes to the ground, while Chat Noir smirked at him.

“Yeah,” the boy in black inquired. “What is going on, Félix?”

Marinette looked back at obviously-not-Chat Félix, who visibly gulped. Meanwhile, his knuckles were becoming whiter, as he squeezed a book he was holding.

“Oh no…” the designer breathed.

“Marinette, I swear it’s not what you think,” Félix spoke at last, yet it came out shaky, which she had never heard from him.

“Why do you call me Princess?” Marinette demanded.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Chat Noir intervened. “You knew that’s the nickname I use for her, so you tried to take advantage.”

“Not…take advantage,” Félix tried feebly.

“I will have you know I’m the only one allowed to use that name,” the hero insisted, pointing a thumb to himself. “Now unless you want me to beat your butt to the moon, I suggest you apologize to Marinette right now.”

“Wait—” the designer arched an eyebrow, bewildered.

“What are you asking me to apologize for?” Félix asked. “For misleading Marinette or for hurting your ego?”

“Félix, that’s—”

“How about for being a prick?” Chat Noir snarled, grabbing the front of the blond’s shirt and lifting him off the bench.

“Chat, stop!”

“And you call yourself a superhero?” Félix spat.

“Don’t encourage—”

“At least I’m the real deal, unlike your sorry—”

“Stop!” Marinette yelled, finally catching the attention of the two boys.

Félix took the opportunity to push Chat Noir off. With a huff, he turned tail and stomped away. From beside the designer, the leather-clad hero huffed in victory, saying: “Good riddance.”

“Chat!” Marinette scolded, turning back to him.

“What?” the boy raised his hands in a questioning manner. “I just don’t like it when—”

“I don’t care what you don’t like, that was rude!” the girl shot back.

Chat Noir opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly hesitated. Their silence was enough for them to take a moment to look around themselves. Just as expected, several people had stopped walking. One of them was holding up a phone, like they were recording.

Marinette cleared her throat. As nonchalantly as possible, she grabbed the spray bottle from the ground and started walking away from view, adding a whistle for good measure. From behind her, she heard Chat Noir clank against the ground. Probably leaping away from the scene. After passing several trees, she looked behind to check if she was still being watched. To her relief, the crowd went back to whatever they were doing before.

She had just let out a breath of relief, when a black blur landed in front of her, making her yelp.

“Rude?” Chat Noir questioned. “How is me calling out a liar ‘rude’?”

“You could’ve gone about it better,” Marinette reasoned. “Didn’t Ladybug make that mistake before?”

“And how would you know about that?”

Marinette’s eye twitched. “I-I, uh… Lila told me,” she said, the first excuse she could think of.

“Right,” Chat Noir said under his breath. “She’s practically told anyone who gives her their time.”

The designer bit her lip to suppress a sigh. Almost instantly, she shook her head, trying to remember her outrage with the boy’s attitude.

“Anyway, you remember in what that resulted in, right?”

Chat Noir winced. “But he was calling you Princess,” he tried defending himself.

“So?” Marinette snapped. “I know it’s annoying, but I think you’re gonna have to learn to deal with it. Thanks to the press, everybody knows you call me that. But what I don’t understand is why you lost it with Félix, when you were so cool-headed earlier with Anabelle.”

“I-I—” Chat Noir started, but faltered almost instantly. He then proceeded to fiddle his fingers together.

Marinette crossed her arms, the spray bottle hanging loose from her fingers. “I don’t get it. What is up with you lately? You’ve been so jumpy and weird. It’s like you go from zero to a hundred in an instant.”

“I-I haven’t… I mean… It’s complicated,” the boy whispered.

The way his cat ears drooped made Marinette soften. Could it be that thing he wouldn’t tell her about?

“Chat, is there a problem with us?”

“Us?! There’s no us!” the boy blurted out. But the second the words got out, he cringed, just as Marinette frowned. “I-I mean, not an us-us, you know?” he tried to amend, bewildering the girl more in the process. “Not like relationship-us, just friends-us. Not us-us, like…us. Just… us—Man, is it hot in here?” He added the last part as he pulled on his collar.

“Oookay,” she arched an eyebrow at the display. “You mind telling me what the heck is really going on?”

“Nothing is going—”

“Don’t,” Marinette warned, poking a finger to his chest. “First you tell me there’s something you can’t tell me. Then you get all jumpy and awkward. Then you go from being incapable of saying a word on live TV to saying too much. And now, you blew up on a civilian.” She flailed her arms. “And I don’t even know what to make of that last one! It was so bizarre, and you can’t even give me a proper explanation. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous of Félix.”

A large gulp of breath was taken by Chat Noir. A silence hung between the two for a moment, and in that time, the boy’s visible skin became red at an alarming rate. Marinette’s eyes went wide, registering her partner’s reaction to her words. There was no witty remark. No pun. No joke. Just a whole lot of blushing, which she had never seen before. That couldn’t mean…?

“Chat—?”

“Heh, no, you’re right,” Chat Noir finally blurted out, scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry, that was bad, I shouldn’t have done that, totally uncalled for—”

“Chat?”

“—and very unsuperhero of me. Should I look for him? I should look for him and apologize. Yeah, that sounds about—”

“Chat!” Marinette grabbed him by the shoulders, the spray hitting one of them. Chat Noir froze, staring at the designer. She looked at him for a moment, trying to find the answer to her question before asking it again. “Are… Are you jealous?”

“Psh,” Chat Noir let out, his lips vibrating. “Me? Jealous? I don’t get jealous. Why would I be jealous? I have no reason to be jealous. Jealousy is not in me. Not once have I ever—”

“Copycat,” Marinette deadpanned, remembering how he had once told her the story on how Theo was truly akumatized.

The boy started chewing on his lip, the blush becoming impossibly darker. For Copycat, he had been jealous of Theo. Of course, he loved Ladybug. But why would he be jealous of Félix? Unless… No. He can’t be—

WOOSH

A sudden, strong gust of wind blew by the tree they were nearby, causing it to become leafless. Both Marinette and Chat Noir stared at it, baffled. It wasn’t… normal.

“Oh no,” Marinette said under her breath.

“Look out!” Chat Noir suddenly yelled. At the same time, he grabbed the girl’s hand, making the spray bottle fly off it, and pulled her just in time to avoid a large, magical word that hit the ground. Thankfully, nothing seemed to get destroyed, the word vanishing the moment it missed its target. Even so, Marinette remained within the arms that now surrounded her.

“Always rescuing each other,” a cold voice said nearby, somewhere… above? “How romantic.”

Marinette looked up to the direction of the voice. Floating in midair was a blond boy, dressed in a loose, grey buttoned shirt, dark green pants and black boots, all with a seventeenth century design to it. Over his face, he had a butterfly shaped mask, with his eyes completely white. And his blond hair was loose and wild.

Félix.

“What’ve I done?” Chat Noir said under his breath next to Marinette.

“Chat, we gotta run,” the designer warned her partner, already starting to pull on his bell. “RUN!”

Just then, the akumatized Félix waved his hand and a collection of words flew by and hit the tree previously de-leafed. As the pair of heroes ran past it, three holes cracked open on the tree trunk, creating a jagged face. The newly sentient plant suddenly swung its branches towards them, almost scratching Marinette. Luckily, Chat Noir pulled her his way on time.

“In there!” the leather-clad hero called, pointing towards the alley close by.

Yet, suddenly, words started crashing on the building next to them, sending concrete and dust flying about. They managed to dodge it and turned to enter, just as the last words flew towards them. In a swift movement, Chat Noir pulled Marinette towards him and pressed her against the wall, just as the words hit the corner. In the process, Marinette let out a painful groan, as a new bump formed on the back of her head.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Chat Noir fussed, checking for injuries where the girl had started to rub.

“I’m fine, just a light hit on the head.”

The boy deflated in relief. Softly, he tucked a loose hair behind her ear, and opened his mouth, like he was about to say something. But instead, he did something, before Marinette could register what was going on:

Time froze. Marinette knew there was much going on around them, but for her, it seemed the seconds decided to stop ticking. Chat Noir’s lips were on the side of her head, making warmth flow from that point to the rest of her, especially her cheeks. It wasn’t like that quick kiss on the cheek she gave him once. It was more like a kiss that wanted to reassure her that everything will be alright. That, as a person who cared so much about her, wanted to make sure she was safe.

The warmth stopped, and time ran again. Yet Marinette could only stand there, staring at the boy before her.

“Please stay safe, and try not to go heroic again,” Chat Noir said, finishing it with a wink. Immediately after, he stepped back and used his staff to vault closer to the akuma.

In the meantime, Marinette continued to stare after him for several seconds.

…

“Okay,” she wistfully breathed, a dopey smile curving her lips.

“Marinette!” a small voice scolded. “You’re a superhero, remember?”

The bubble popped…

What. Was. THAT?!

The girl’s eyes went wide. Quickly, she lightly slapped her cheeks in an effort to pull herself together from… whatever that was just now.

“Right! Rightrightright,” Marinette reminded herself, now rubbing her cheeks. “Okay. Tikki, transform me!”

One flash of pink light later, Ladybug was swinging out of the alley, back to the park. But stopped when she saw a familiar bottle left forgotten on the ground. She swung low enough to grab it, and then pushed herself in the direction of her balcony. The second she got there, she placed it on the small table. After making sure it was safe, she jumped away, back to where the action was supposed to be.

With only a brief look, she found Chat Noir fighting two civilians that seemed to have gotten possessed. Immediately, her body sprang into hero-mode, managing to knock out both people with her yo-yo.

“Nice to see you, LB!” Chat Noir cheerfully greeted, with that adorable toothy—

…

Toothy grin of his…

Ladybug blanched. Her brain started to scurry in circles, questioning what was going on with her thought process. Could Tikki be right? From white, her face turned red now, and her lips pressed together.

“Ladybug, what’s wrong?”

It wasn’t until then that the flustered hero realized Chat Noir was only a foot away from her, giving her a concerned look. Ladybug yelped.

“Me?! Nothing’s wrong! Why would anything be wrong? I have no reason to be wrong— Wait, what did I just say?” Ladybug rambled.

“Uuuh,” Chat Noir uttered. “Did the akuma hit you on the head or something?”

“No! That’s not what…” Ladybug let out a defeated sigh. “Let’s just get this done.”

Without another word, she started searching for Félix. Hadn’t he been around just moments ago?

“You forget that I can read you like an open book, LB,” Chat Noir purred.

Ladybug stopped on her tracks. “Only been here five seconds and you’ve already started with the puns,” she chuckled.

“It’d be a pretty boring story if I didn’t,” he quipped.

She snorted. “Please, Chat. You’re more than jokes and puns.”

“Nice of you to notice,” Chat Noir grinned, slightly leaning towards her.

“Y-yeah,” Ladybug stuttered, taking a step back. “A-anyway, where’s the akuma?”

“He kinda bailed when he possessed those two civilians,” the cat-themed hero explained, placing a hand on his chin. “Almost like he was looking for something.”

“Probably for Marinette,” the spotted heroine muttered.

Instantly, Chat Noir whipped his head towards her, eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Marinette!”

“No, wait!” Ladybug managed to grab her partner’s tail just in time before he fully ran off. “She’s safe. There’s no way he can find her.”

“How can you be so sure of that? Ugh.” Chat Noir slammed a hand on his forehead. “This is all my fault. I just couldn’t leave it alone, could I?”

“Well… Wait, no,” Ladybug shook her head. “This isn’t your fault. This is all Hawkmoth’s doing. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Chat Noir said as he twirled to face her. “Even if Hawkmoth hadn’t been involved, I still messed up. If I hadn’t been so—” But the boy cut himself off, his cheeks taking a light shade of pink.

“If you hadn’t been what?” Ladybug pushed unconsciously.

“U-um, aaahhh…” Chat Noir scratched the back of his head.

But that was as far as he got, for the next second, a cone of ice cream landed on his shoulder, smearing his suit. As he let out a low ‘ew’, the two heroes scanned for the culprit, and found an ice cream man placing fresh dessert on a new cone. As if preparing ammunition.

“Possessed,” Ladybug let out as she pulled Chat Noir by the arm, avoiding another incoming sweet.

With a determined move with her yo-yo, the spotted heroine grabbed a pole on the ice cream cart and pulled it away from the man. As soon as the cart was near them, Chat Noir pushed it even further. But the action only angered the man. He took several swipes at them, but without his tasty weapons, he was much slower and easy to dodge. With one swing, Chat Noir hit the man’s head with his baton, knocking him unconscious.

“Ooohhh,” Ladybug and Chat Noir cringed in unison.

“Hope he comes out okay of that,” the boy commented.

“Where’s Marinette?!” A voice from above demanded.

The two heroes turned, looking up to the akuma’s floating figure, whom Chat Noir called ‘The Storyteller’ under his breath.

“Somewhere you can never find her,” Ladybug said triumphantly, not noticing her partner’s sigh of relief.

“Seems like you’re gonna have to settle for little-ol’-me,” Chat Noir quipped, pointing a thumb to himself.

Unfortunately for the pair, the joke was not well received. The Storyteller’s gaze became as hard as marble, and his hand started waving over the open book. In a matter of seconds, the word CRASH became legible. Simultaneously, Ladybug and Chat Noir gasped, jumping out of the way just in time before the word landed on the ground and dirt started flying all over the place.

Before they could catch their breaths, the akuma was already throwing new CRASH’s around the park, causing all kinds of destruction the duo of heroes hadn’t seen in a while. The two teens ran out to the street, headed to a café across it. Just as they were entering through the door, a deafening noise came from behind them. Ladybug looked back just in time to scream: “EVERYBODY DUCK!”

In a blur, everyone in the café crouched underneath their tables, while Ladybug tackled Chat Noir to the ground. Suddenly, the door and windows blew off their place, broken to shreds. Several people screamed. The second the dust settled, the employees started rushing people through the back of the establishment.

Meanwhile, Ladybug and Chat Noir were still lying on the floor. The heroine, on her part, was groaning, having hit her head for the second time that day. Somehow, on their way to the floor, Ladybug managed to twist them and land on her back, with Chat Noir on top of her.

“That was a rough landing,” the boy hissed.

Ladybug merely groaned, still blinking away the spots in her vision.

“Can you get up?” she heard Chat Noir say.

“In a second,” she responded. “I just need to—” But she stopped midsentence. It wasn’t until her vision finally cleared that she noticed the suggestive position they were in. And it seemed her partner was oblivious to it. She held in a squeak, before finally saying: “Yeap, I can get up.”

Quickly, the boy got on his feet and held out his hand. Ladybug accepted it almost instinctively.

“You okay?” she heard Chat Noir ask, while he helped her up.

“Yeah,” Ladybug groaned. “Just a regular day in the job, right?”

“Tell me about it,” Chat Noir sighed. “It’s been a while since I’ve been thrown around that hard, though.”

“Definitely. But you know there’s nothing we can’t—” But Ladybug stopped abruptly, noticing her hand felt oddly warm.

“Ladybug?” she heard Chat say.

Her eyes snapped down, finally noticing Chat Noir was still holding her hand from when he helped her to her feet. When Ladybug looked at him, he had just snapped his head up too, and quickly grinned, like he had done many times. Except this time, it sent a jolt through her body. By instinct, Ladybug yelped while pulling her hand away. Unfortunately for Chat Noir, the spotted hero accidentally hit his nose in her haste to remove her hand.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Ladybug cringed. She then slapped a hand to her forehead. “Ugh. Why am I being so clumsy?”

“And here I always thought you hit me with your yo-yo on purpose,” Chat Noir quipped as he rubbed his nose.

But neither got a chance to discuss the subject further, due to tables suddenly moving by themselves to the sides of the café. From the broken entrance floated The Storyteller, calmly caressing his book.

“This story doesn’t have to end in tragedy,” he said, in his monotone voice. “Just give me your miraculous, and I can guarantee you two a happy ending.”

“Sorry, but I prefer writing my own story,” Ladybug quipped, taking a battle stance.

“We’ll see about that.” As The Storyteller said it, he opened the book and waved his hand to form the word MINION several times, in the end throwing them towards the back door of the café. Where four employees had just finished evacuating their clientele. “Minions, get me their miraculouses.”

“Looks like we’re about to be served an unhealthy meal, LB,” Chat Noir quipped, making a pose like hers.

“LB, Ladybug. LB, Ladybug. Whatever happened to My Lady?” Ladybug couldn’t help let slip.

Chat Noir frowned at her. “What?”

“I haven’t heard you call me that in weeks already,” she dared elaborate, with less shakiness than she felt. “You’re not losing your sense of humor, are you?”

“I’ve called you My Lady recently,” he defended.

“When?”

“Well…” But he trailed off, his eyes shifting, like he was seeking an answer. “There was that time…wait, no, that was a month—” his eyes suddenly became wide. “Oh my—”

But he was unable to finish that expression due to a plate he had to dodge. Ladybug whipped her head over her shoulder just in time to avoid another incoming plate from a possessed waitress. With the coming attacks, she started swinging her yo-yo rapidly, blocking the projectiles. Next to her, Chat Noir was doing the same with his staff.

“I can’t remember the last time I called you that!” he almost screeched. “I mean, not to your face. The last I remember, to you, was like a month ago, but I’m not sure.”

“Why did you stop?!” Ladybug shrieked, offended she had lost one of her nicknames.

“I don’t know!” Chat Noir admitted. “I mean, I guess it could be—MOVE!”

The leather-clad hero pushed them both just in time to avoid forks and knives coming from another waitress. In a swift move, they rolled under a table and turned it on its side, to use as a shield against the sharp cutlery.

“What were you saying?” Ladybug pushed.

But Chat Noir hesitated. “It’s…personal,” he said, at last.

“Personal?!” Ladybug couldn’t help but use an incredulous tone. “I don’t get it.”

“Look,” Chat Noir looked at her straight in the eyes. “I’ve been going through some things lately and I’m really confused, so I can’t give you a straight answer. And until I don’t come to a decision, I’m gonna have to keep a few extra secrets.”

“Oh,” Ladybug uttered, lips in the shape of the sound she just made. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded.

“Huh,” Chat Noir arched a brow. “That was easier than I—”

Once again, his words were cut off, this time when a larger and robust waiter lifted the table in which they were hiding over his head. With a loud growl, the man went to smash the piece of furniture on their heads, but the duo dodged it in the nick of time. They moved towards the counter, only to be ambushed by flying coffee cups thrown by the barista. Lucky for the heroes, they countered the attacks with their own weapons on time, sending coffee, milk and water all over the dining room.

“Careful!” the akuma suddenly barked.

Ladybug turned her head just in time to see The Storyteller desperately trying to clean the pages of the book. Realization struck her like lighting, and she pressed her back against her partner’s.

“Chat, I need a distraction long enough to call on Lucky Charm,” she said.

“Your wish is my command, partner,” Chat Noir responded. Almost immediately, Ladybug felt him slump. “I’m in so much trouble,” he mumbled.

But the heroine didn’t get the time to dwell on his words, for the next second he was drawing the attention of the possessed employees, long enough for her to call on her special power. The usual swirl of ladybugs emerged from her yo-yo, and a roll of fishing line appeared.

“Another great item to discover,” Ladybug muttered to herself, right before looking around the room. A look at the espresso machine and the akuma’s book later, she knew what to do.

“Chat, take this!” she ordered, giving the end of the line to her partner. Without another word, she ran to the machine and tied the other end to several of the hosepipes, blocking the liquids and putting pressure on it. “Pull!” she called.

In unison, the two heroes ran towards the exit. The Storyteller was about to follow them, but it was too late: water, milk and coffee grounds exploded all over the dining room, damaging the akuma’s book.

“What have you done?!” he bellowed, now running outside, trying to escape.

Unlucky for him, Ladybug was fast enough to wrap her yo-yo around his ankle and land him face-first against the concrete.

“It’s over, Félix,” the spotted heroine said, making her way to the akumatized object. “Your story has ended.”

As it was now the usual ritual, Ladybug broke the book in two, caught the akuma, purified it and bid it farewell. As for the Lucky Charm, Chat Noir brought what was left of it. With another ritualistic move, ladybugs flew about in the city, fixing everything damaged. And lastly, Félix was back to his usual, monotone self.

“Bien joué!” Chat Noir said, raising a fist for her to bump.

Yet Ladybug only stared at it, reminded of all the times she bumped that fist with a bare hand. Reminded about how much more he told Marinette, and not Ladybug. How, at this point, he was probably closer with her civilian identity than her hero identity.

And how she almost treated someone else the same way she treats him.

Her head whipped around to scowl at Félix, now sitting on his knees, looking embarrassed. Ladybug didn’t even notice when she had stomped her way to him, until she was standing only inches in front of him. In an impulsive move, she grabbed the front of his clothes and lifted him high enough that his feet dangled about a centimeter off the ground.

“Why did you do it?!” she demanded, ignoring Chat Noir’s shocked calls next to her.

While Félix stared with wide eyes at first, his gaze lowered in shame.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he whispered. “I was just… lonely.”

Ladybug huffed. “That’s your excuse?”

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Félix snapped. “When you’re a public figure, people treat you like an untouchable idol. They expect you to be perfect and they change their views just to accommodate yours. They use you, they’re only friends with you to see what they can get out of you. So, when I saw how Marinette treated a celebrity, I…” Félix pursed his lips. “I got envious.

She was so down to earth with Chat Noir. She didn’t care about calling him on his mistakes, and even scolding him. Yet she still cares, enough to save him twice… I wanted that. I wanted a real friend, not followers or fans. I got… desperate.”

Ladybug’s look softened slightly. She could understand the sentiment: she’d heard Chat Noir complain about it many times, and also suspected Adrien went through the same thing. She also experienced it as Ladybug, every time Chloé asked for a selfie, without knowing she bullied the girl behind the mask.

But…

“Look, I can understand what you’re going through, but if you think I’m just gonna—” but she stopped abruptly when she felt a hand warm her shoulder.

“Let him go,” Chat said, quietly.

“But he—” Once again, she stopped midsentence when she turned her gaze to her partner.

“I know it was wrong,” he cleared up. “But I also know what it’s like to not be treated like an actual person.”

Ladybug’s breath slowed, remembering the stories Chat Noir had told her. The longing he had felt to be treated like a normal person. One of the main reasons he started visiting her as Marinette.

She sighed, but still held on to the boy’s shirt.

“I’ll let it slide for now, but it was still wrong for you to lie to Marinette about being Chat Noir,” she stated.

Félix gave her a puzzled look. “Um, I never told her I’m Chat Noir,” he spoke slowly. “I just acted like him a bit and hoped she would assume.”

The girl’s face contorted and her brain started running at a hundred miles per hour.

Now that he mentioned it… it was true. Not once did she ever stopped to think that she could be wrong, that she had been latching on to the wrong guy.

So much time that she had spent with Chat Noir, and she hadn’t been able to recognize when someone had been pretending to be him.

I’m a horrible friend.

Félix yelped when Ladybug dropped him on the floor, but she barely heard him. Her mind was too busy kicking herself for such a dumb mistake. How could she just assume?

I’m a terrible, horrible, awful friend, she mentally berated herself.

“Ladybug?” she heard Chat call her. But she merely waved her hand and started walking away.

It wasn’t until she heard the beeping from her earrings that she picked up the pace and ran to a nearby alley. She could still hear her partner calling, but decided to ignore him. Once in the alley, she stood behind a dumpster and let her transformation go.

“Marinette?” Tikki called, worried.

…

“OH MY GOSH!” Marinette snapped, slapping her hands to her forehead. “I can’t believe I thought he was Chat Noir!”

“Shh!” Tikki desperately shushed her.

“How could I just assume!” the girl started pacing. “Gah! I know Chat! I know he can be reckless, but he’s not an idiot. I’m an idiot!”

She kicked the dumpster in a surge of anger, but it only resulted in shooting pain up her big toe. Marinette hopped on one foot several times, cursing under her breath. But a faint giggle made her stop and scowl at her purse.

“Tikkiii,” she whined. “You’re laughing at my misery?”

“Sorry,” the kwami snickered, “but you can be so dramatic sometimes.”

Marinette gave the goddess a deadpan look. “You want dramatic?”

Before Tikki could answer, the girl shut her purse and started marching to her house.

No. She was not facing Chat Noir or Félix. She was not about to make further fool of herself. She was going to go home and scream into a pillow.

“Marinette?”

Nope. Home. Pillow.

Marinette sped up, ignoring Chat Noir’s calls coming from the park. Just as she heard his staff clank against the pavement behind, she ducked into the door to her apartment building, and closed it on the superhero’s face.

“Marinette, what the hell?” he called from the other side.

“There’s no Marinette here,” she called back, leaning against the door. “Just a terrible person who can’t recognize her own friend.”

There was a pause.

“Wait, you’re not mad at me?” Chat spoke again, sounding bewildered.

“Of course I’m mad at you!” she snapped. “But I’m madder at myself. I can’t believe I assumed he was you. I’m an idiot!”

“Hey, no, don’t do that to yourself,” he tried to sooth her. “It was and honest mistake. It could’ve happened to anybody.”

“But it happened to me!” Marinette whined.

“Come out here, so we can talk about this.”

“No!” she stubbornly refused. “I’m going to crawl in a hole and die of shame. Bye Chat! It was nice knowing ya!”

With those last words, Marinette marched up the stairs, ignoring Chat’s calls. Her focus was solely on that pillow up in her room, where she could scream her lungs out.

“Marinette! Urgh!” Chat Noir gave an exasperated growl, his hands pulling at his hair. “Why am I surrounded by stubborn girls?”

“You should’ve seen her when she found out about Lila’s lie,” Félix commented. Chat Noir gave him a deadpan look.

“Why are you still here?” he said.

“I’m worried, too,” Félix defended. He then looked up to the building. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” Chat sighed, also turning his gaze to the building. “She’s just being dramatic. She’s probably in her room, waiting for me to knock.”

“Would you tell her I want to apologize to her?”

Chat’s eye twitched.

“Okay, let’s get something straight here,” he started, raising his index fingers, “you and I,” he pointed back and forth between Félix and himself, “we are not friends, and I am not doing you any favors.”

“Whatever happened to ‘I know what it feels like’?” Félix crossed his arms.

“I didn’t want Ladybug to go too hard on you, doesn’t mean I want you sticking around.”

“What is your problem with me? It’s not like I straight up lied to her.”

“No, but you implied the lie, and then got all chummy with her.”

Félix frowned. “It almost sounds like you’re jealous.”

“Yes, I am. Got a problem with that?” Chat snapped, without missing a beat.

Félix blinked, while Chat Noir glared at him. At this point, the superhero couldn’t care less about what that guy thought of him. He just wanted the imposter to go away.

“So you lied in the Margot and Dorian Show?”

“Are you trying to call me out?”

“No, no—”

“Because I think you’re the last person—”

“I just find it interesting—”

“—who has the right—”

“—because it sounded so believable—”

“—to call me out on a lie.”

“—even Marinette believed it.”

They went quiet. Chat Noir stared with wide eyes, registering Félix’s last words. Finally, the civilian boy sighed.

“I highly advice you tell Marinette,” he said.

“And why should I take advice from you?” Chat Noir crossed his arms.

“I’m not a monster,” Félix defended himself once more. “I gave into desperation and made a mistake. But I’m not an idiot.” He deepened his gaze. “Tell her. You’ll thank me later.”

With those last words, he walked past Chat Noir, bumping into his shoulder. Chat stared after him.

Thank him? Why would I thank him? The boy pondered for a moment. If anything, she’ll reject me saying that she likes… well, me. Unless…

Chat Noir’s gaze snapped up to the little he could see of her balcony. He had no reason to believe in Félix. If anything, that guy could be setting a trap for him, knowing full well Marinette didn’t like his superhero persona. At least, not that way. If only he could remember what they had been talking about before he intervened earlier.

With an exasperated sigh, he stuck the metal staff on the ground and lifted himself up to the top of the building. Once on the small terrace, he placed the baton back in its place and looked down at the latch on the ground. As much as he wanted to figure out if Félix’s ‘advice’ was any good, perhaps this wasn’t the time.

TOC, TOC

“Marinette,” Chat called, but no response. He knocked again, and this time, a muffled ‘no’ responded. He chuckled. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

The trapdoor opened a sliver, only Marinette’s bangs and shiny bluebells visible.

“Not that bad?!” she responded, incredulous. “It was horrible.”

The latch shut. Chat Noir sighed and knocked again.

“It happens. We all make mistakes.”

She opened the latch again. “I thought he was you!” Closed again. Chat was about to rap it again, but, once again, Marinette opened. “I genuinely, stupidly thought he was you.” It snapped closed again. Then came a muffled: “I’m a terrible friend.”

While Chat had felt a bit hurt that Marinette thought Félix was him, he couldn’t really blame her. He’d done a good job hiding his identity, just like Plagg had asked to. He didn’t even call her Princess as Adrien (although, it had almost slipped out a few times already). Yes, she made a mistake, but it also said a lot about how much more she wanted to get to know him. That, in itself, was a nice sentiment.

“Marinette, you could never be a terrible friend,” he called, not bothering to knock this time. The crack opened once again, exposing furrowed brows.

“I should know you well enough to know that you take your secret identity very serious,” she argued her case. “I did wrong. I failed. I have dishonored myself, my family and my cow. Good bye!”

Marinette pulled to close it back up again, but Chat managed to grab it just in time before hitting the frame. The girl’s eyes widened and blinked, staring at the gloved hand.

“Mari, if it had been me who had thought some girl was Ladybug, I probably would’ve done the same dumb thing.”

“But that’s different,” the girl whined. “You like Ladybug and she’s also your partner. I had no right.”

“Would you just come out?”

“No,” Marinette stubbornly refused. “I need to stay here and die in shame.”

“No, you need to get out and get some fresh air,” Chat retorted, starting to become irritated.

“I do not deserve fresh air.”

Chat groaned loudly, throwing his head back. There has to be a way to get her out. He thought for a moment, until an idea occurred to him. With a deep breath, he laid his stomach on the ground and placed his chin on his forearm, giving him a clear view of the pig-tailed girl’s bluebells. With the best kitty-eyes he could muster and a tiny pout, he said one word: “Pwease?”

Marinette’s face contorted as she released a strangled squeak. Yeap, it’s working.

“Don’t do that,” she hissed, but Chat only exaggerated the expression more, adding a light whimper, which prompted the combination of a loud groan and a growl from Marinette. “Fine!” she said at last, in defeat. “I’ll be right out.”

The latch closed again, but this time, Chat could hear shuffling from inside. Mission accomplished, he mentally basked in his victory, while standing and dusting off his suit.

He slowly paced the balcony, until he heard the trapdoor open again. The boy turned and was about to thank her for joining him, but the words died in his throat when he got a good look at her.

Marinette was wrapped from head to toe with a pink blanket. She looked like a little girl playing ghost.

It was adorable.

And hilarious.

Unable to contain himself, Chat barked out a laugh. Marinette merely whined again, tightening the blanket around her.

“I’m going back in.”

“Nononono,” the boy quickly reached out to where her arm was buried under the pink blanket, but still laughing. “I’m sorry, but you caught me off guard.” He let out a hearty breath. “Can you please stop hiding?”

Marinette grunted. Chat bit his lip, holding a commentary of how cute she was being. Instead, he pulled her closer and tried pulling the cloth away from her head, but was met with resistance.

“Do I need to say pwease again?” he jokingly scolded. The designer gave another low groan, but her grip slackened anyway. Slowly, Chat pulled on the material, enough to uncover her very flushed face.

He grinned. “There’s my Princess.”

Her cheeks became redder. “Your Princess?”

Chat almost chocked. A hand flew to the back of his head and he stammered out: “I-I mean, my friend, the Princess. Y-yeah, that’s what I meant.”

Internally, he could almost feel himself kick his own butt for that comment. And he had been playing it so cool, so far. It had been a week already since he found out about his feelings for the girl in front of him, yet he still couldn’t get used to the idea.

“Right,” Marinette whispered, dragging Chat Noir out of his thoughts. “Friends.”

The leather-clad hero studied her face for a moment, and realized that although it was red, her gaze was one of sadness. Was she really beating herself up that bad about it?

“Hey, Mari,” he placed his hands on her shoulders. “It was an honest mistake. It could’ve happened to anyone. Please don’t be sad.”

Marinette raised her gaze towards him, with slight confusion at first, but was quickly replaced with the shame from before. Weird.

“I thought some creepy weirdo was you. I have insulted your cat’s honor.”

Chat Noir chuckled. “Trust me; it takes a lot more to insult my honor.” He paused. “Wanna talk about it?”

Marinette hesitated. So, to encourage her, the boy skipped to the patio lounge and sat on it. To finish it off, he patted his lap, signaling her to sit with him.

“Come talk to the cat superhero,” he called, as if he were a commercial. “He’ll listen to all your troubles.”

I’m an idiot, he mentally barraged himself for his silly antics. That was, until Marinette giggled and made her way to join him. I’m a genius!

Without even questioning it, the girl sat on his lap, still holding tight to the blanket. Finally, she uttered two words: “I’m sorry.”

Chat Noir sighed. She really wasn’t making this easy. He placed his arms around her and pulled her closer.

“We all make mistakes,” he whispered into her flower-smelling hair. Oh, that wonderful scent. Focus, Adrien! “A-and it’s not like you did it on purpose. Some guy pretended to be me, and you jumped at the opportunity.”

“But I know better,” she interjected. “I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t give out your identity like that. Try to hang out with me more, maybe. But to be so obvious…”

Chat Noir gulped. He suddenly felt very lucky to be in the same classroom as her, otherwise she would’ve figured out his identity a long time ago. Oh, and that he had dragged his civilian self in the mess.

“Maybe someday,” he responded breathlessly, heart racing in his chest. “Someday, you’ll have to stand me in and out of suit.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Marinette happily sighed, making herself comfortable on him and spreading the blanket over both of them. “I could show you off to my friends.”

“Yeah, and then complain about my puns to them,” Chat joked, lightly stroking her arm.

“Now why would I do that?” the girl spoke in a sleepy tone, her head lying under his neck.

“Because you’re always groaning every time I pun,” he chuckled.

“Chat,” she whispered, “I’ve always liked your puns.”

The boy could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating. She WHAT?!

“You just have terrible timing,” she finished.

Yet the additional information didn’t deter his new mood. She likes my puns! She actually likes my puns! He repeated the sentences several times in his mind, all the while tightening his grip on the girl in his arms. What did I do to deserve such a wonderful human being?

It was official: Marinette stole his heart. She came into his life and offered more than friendship, even before either of them knew it. She gave him comfort, smiles, warmth, laughs, kindness…

Love.

She gave him unconditional love. It took him this long to realize that it wasn’t her good looks what had the other boys going crazy for her, but her amazing treatment of others. That even though she had no idea who he was under the mask, that he was the boy she was in love with, she still did everything in her power to make him happy. She liked him for who he was, even if it was only bits that she knew.

Chat Noir closed his eyes and gave a happy hum. Just a friend. Those words seemed so far away now. How could he ever think she’d be just a friend? The thought seemed insane now. It was like she had had his heart the entire time, yet he hadn’t noticed until recently.

“You’re amazing, Marinette,” he sighed softly in bliss.

“So are you, Chat Noir,” she slurred.

The two remained still in each other’s arms. Consciousness fleeted away from them. They merely enjoyed their warmth.

In the process, they forgot they were sitting on Marinette’s balcony. They forgot Chat Noir was supposed to patrol that evening. They forgot there was a limit to the miraculous magic that suited up the leather-clad hero.

And they had fallen so deeply asleep, neither noticed when the leather disappeared, and turned into a soft, expensive fabric.

Cameras surrounded Marinette. Lights were flashing all around her. Behind the many faceless reporters, she could only see gray. Why was it so dark behind them?

“Marinette, are you in love with Chat Noir?” a redheaded reporter yelled, pushing a microphone to her face.

“I already said I don’t!” Marinette defended herself.

“But Tikki told us you do!” the reporter said.

The blue-haired girl gasped and looked at a floating red speck next to her.

“You little traitor!” she accused.

“But it’s true, Marinette!” the disembodied speck defended herself.

“Since when are you two in love?” The girl turned back to Anabelle, whose eyes were magnified by those red trimmed glasses, making her look like a bug.

“I-I, uh…” Marinette stuttered.

“NO COMMENT!” someone suddenly said, breaking through the crowd and grabbing her wrist.

Marinette let herself be dragged by a hand with a silver ring, but couldn’t see who it belonged to. Too many cameras were in the way. As the person continued pulling on her, she looked back at the crowd. Yet they became distant. Almost as if she were flying. She looked back at her savior, and before her eyes was Chat Noir, giving her his trademark toothy grin.

“Why didn’t you tell them, Princess?” he asked, oddly cheerful.

The designer searched for the silver ring. She could’ve sworn she saw him wearing a silver ring. Yet there his ring was, as black as ever with the familiar green paw print.

“What was I supposed to say?” she asked, sincerely confused.

“That you love me,” Chat Noir said, nonchalantly.

“I can’t,” she responded. “If I tell them I love you, Adrien will think I never loved him.”

“But you love me.” Without any prompting, Chat Noir wrapped Marinette in a tight hug. “You’re amazing, Marinette.”

The pig-tailed girl didn’t move. She remained petrified in his arms, feeling oddly warm and cozy. Her arms snaked their way up to his back, returning the embrace. After what seemed like no time at all, she pulled back, but only enough to see his face.

“Do you love me?” she asked, tentatively, hopeful. If he responded with a yes, what was she supposed to do? Should they be together? She definitely wouldn’t mind that.

Chat Noir continued to smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but…

“PWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Marinette’s eyes flew open, only to see what looked like a black cat floating in the air. The girl almost immediately jumped, but was quickly held down by a pair of arms pinning her down.

“Don’t get up!” the owner of those arms screeched.

It was then that she froze, finally registering what was happening.

“Chat?” she squeaked, almost drowned by the still cackling floating creature. Which now Marinette realized was probably his kwami.

“Plagg!” Chat Noir scolded. “What do you think you’re doing? What’s so funny?”

“Ooohhh, this is just too good,” Plagg giggled, wiping a tear from his eye. He then stared Marinette straight in the eye. “Really, really good.”

With a smirk, he gave Marinette a knowing look…that could only mean one thing:

He knows.

“Why are you giving us heart attacks?” Chat Noir insisted, unaware of the silent message passing between the kwami and the designer.

“I saw a very funny bug,” Plagg snorted, confirming Marinette’s suspicion.

“And that justifies freaking us out like that?” Chat Noir huffed, making a movement that reminded Marinette of the predicament they were in.

“I have no regrets,” the kwami said proudly.

Chat Noir sighed under Marinette. “Sorry about that,” he whispered.

“Noitsfine,” the designer managed to blurt out. She cleared her throat and tried again. “W-what’s that?”

“Plagg, Marinette. Marinette, Plagg,” Chat Noir introduced, annoyed. “He’s the thing that gives me my powers.” His arms tightened around her. “Which I don’t have right now.”

Marinette gulped as she felt the soft, loose material under her palm.

“O-oh,” she stuttered.

“Why am I not transformed?” the unmasked hero demanded, unaware of his partner’s inner turmoil.

“Just ‘cause you don’t use Cataclysm it doesn’t mean I don’t get tired,” Plagg spat. “You have any idea how exhausting these weeks have been for me? It gets stuffy in there.” He crossed his tiny arms. “It’s not like you even needed the mask. You were sleeping.”

Marinette could’ve sworn she felt her partner tense. What was more, she heard a gulp go down his esophagus. Was he nervous? Why was he nervous?

As if to answer her question, his hands slowly caressed her exposed arm. Just as a shuddered breath escaped his lips.

“Unless you guys want me to stay stuck here all day, I’m gonna have to transform—”

“No!” Marinette blurted out, taking a fistful of his over-shirt, which she now noticed was white.

“Marinette, I—”

“I won’t look,” the designer promised. “But can we lie here a little longer?”

There was a pause. Marinette thought for sure she had just made a huge mistake. Maybe even made him uncomfortable, or mistrust her.

“Okay,” Chat Noir whispered. “We can stay like this.”

Instantly, Marinette’s heart jolted. The hand that had been on her elbow now moved up her forearm, until reaching her own hand.

“How much longer are you gonna stay here?” Plagg whined. When the response he got were a bunch of rambled ‘er’s and ‘um’s, the kwami sighed. “I’ll be in that flower pot, if you need me.”

Without another word, Plagg zipped away to one of Marinette’s plants. One where the girl suspected Tikki was hiding in.

“That’s weird,” Chat Noir muttered. When Marinette hummed in confusion, he elaborated. “You’d think he’d use an opportunity like this to tease obnoxiously. Although… well, you weren’t supposed to meet.”

Marinette swallowed. “Maybe he’s keeping himself as mysterious as possible,” she feebly tried to make sense. “You know, like, the less I know, the better. A-and maybe waking us up was not his intention.”

“Probably,” Chat Noir sighed. “You sleep well, by the way?”

“Uuuhhh.” Marinette reddened, the memory of the dream she had suddenly rushing back to her. A nervous giggle escaped her lips. “Y-yeah, totally good sleep, dreamless nap. Yeap, all good.”

“Are you okay?” the boy asked.

“A-Okay!” Marinette squeaked, tightening her grip on the white over-shirt. “I’m just e-excited tha-that I, um… get to see you wear white! That’s… That’s a surprise.”

The girl cringed at her ramblings. She was really losing it today.

“You know, Princess, you may not be able to see my face, but I can see every single expression you make from here,” Chat Noir chuckled.

“Whaaattt,” Marinette feigned ignorance, but her blush betrayed her.

“Is that why you wanted us to stay here?” Chat Noir teased. “To inspect my civilian clothes?”

“How dare you—” Marinette started, but was abruptly interrupted when she was pushed back down to the boy’s chest. It seemed she had unconsciously started to raise herself, as if about to face him.

“This is really nerve-wrecking,” Chat Noir confessed. “Why do you want to stay here again?”

Marinette opened her mouth to respond, but immediately closed it again. The truth of the matter was… embarrassing? If she was being honest with herself, this was the closest she had ever felt to him. Although they had hugged plenty of times, she had never felt his bare arms around her. And it felt important to her. Like it was something she would probably never get the chance to do ever again.

“Maybe it’s best I—”

“I never thought you’d wear white!” Marinette blurted out.

Was it just her, or could she hear his heartbeat? And if it was, why was it so fast?

“Um, yeah,” Chat Noir responded awkwardly. “It’d be a little too revealing if I pranced around in black all the time, don’t you think?”

“Right,” Marinette laughed.

They remained quiet for a brief moment. Finally, Chat Noir took a deep breath, as he tightened his grip on her.

“I think it’s best I transform,” he said.

Marinette hummed, not exactly in agreement, but not stopping him either. A call to Plagg and several words later, a green light engulfed them both, making Marinette squint.

“It’s done,” Chat Noir whispered.

Slowly, Marinette pushed herself up, far enough to get a look of his face. As always, he was wearing the mask she had always seen him with. His clothes were now as black as ever. And the reminder, that she may never know who the boy under the mask is, struck her. Badly.

She blinked several times and rose from the seat, making the pink blanket fall to the ground.

“Everything okay?” Marinette heard from behind her.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she lied. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Tell me about it,” Chat Noir agreed, while picking up the blanket and placing it on the chair. “It had been a while since the last time LB and I fought such a destructive akuma. Good thing Miraculous Cure exists, right?”

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled. “A good thing indeed. And that she has you, of course.” Lucky me, she thought, somehow bitterly.

“As a partner, of course,” Chat Noir said pointedly.

His tone made Marinette look at him in curiosity. She had never heard him talk about Ladybug as just his partner. In fact, he was usually very open about his love for her. Was this really Chat Noir she was talking to, and not some impersonator?

“Do I have something on my face?” he asked suddenly.

It then occurred to Marinette that she had been staring for a minute. With warming cheeks, she gave him a sheepish smile and scratched the back of her head.

“Sorry,” she giggled. “I got, kinda… distracted.”

Chat Noir hummed and nodded. He then moved his gaze to the Parisian horizon. Marinette followed his line of view, to realize he was staring at the sun that was almost fully hidden. Meaning there was somewhere he was supposed to be.

“I should go,” he said suddenly, making Marinette’s heart leap. He then looked back at her and gave her a soft smile. “I’ll see you around, Mari.” He turned to the railing, and was about to leap off.

“Wait!” Marinette blurted out, just as she grabbed his wrist.

With surprised eyes, Chat Noir turned to her, dead on his tracks. The girl didn’t know what took over her. She knew it was time for his patrol. He had a duty to fulfill. She knew that better than anyone else. However…

She didn’t want to see him go. After everything they went through that day. After getting the chance to touch his bare skin. After The Storyteller. After Annabelle. She didn’t want to let go. Not just yet.

“Stay,” she said, at last. “Stay, just a little longer.”

Chat Noir blinked owlishly. “I-I…I have to patrol.”

Marinette bit her lip. She couldn’t believe she was about to say this: “I’m sure Ladybug wouldn’t mind if you start a little late tonight.”

A silence stretched for a moment. She could see consideration in his cat-like eyes. Those eyes that, now that she thought about it, reminded her of springtime. Oh, this was a bad idea, she thought, the longer he took.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll stay.”

Wait, what?

If Marinette was being honest with herself, she didn’t expect for that to work. What was more, she hadn’t planned this far ahead. She hadn’t even known she wanted him to stay until asking him. Now what?

“Great!” she squeaked, earning an arched eyebrow from the boy before her. Thankfully, he chuckled the next second.

“Sooo…” he started. “Whatta you wanna do?”

“U-um…” Marinette looked around her balcony, trying to think of an excuse. “Uuuhhh—Have you ever looked at my plants?”

“Uh, yeah,” Chat Noir responded with a shrug. “It’s kinda part of the reason I gave you the spray bottle.”

“Right,” she nodded. Her gaze went directly to the gift, still sitting on the small table, where she had left it as Ladybug. Why was it that she had it as Ladybug?

The Storyteller, she dropped it when Chat saved her, after they had been… Oh.

She had almost forgotten the conversation they were having before the akuma interrupted them. An unfinished one, which never got a straight answer.

“You know, Ladybug brought it back here,” she said cautiously.

“Well, that explains why I couldn’t find it,” Chat Noir grinned, leaning back against the railing.

“Good to know you remembered,” she smiled back. “And you know, now that I think back, I just remembered something,” she said, landing a fist on her open palm. “You know we didn’t finish our conversation from earlier, right?”

“What conversation?” he frowned.

“When I asked you if you were jealous of Félix,” she dared say, crossing her arms and trying to ignore the way her heart had just accelerated.

And just as she finished, the color of Chat Noir’s face was drained. His fake ears stood straight in alert. His shoulders tensed.

“I thought you forgot about that,” he breathed.

“So you were jealous,” Marinette almost squeaked.

“No, no, I did not say that,” Chat Noir immediately tried to amend, pushing himself from the railing. “W-what I meant was, that, um… I thought you weren’t mad anymore. About what happened.”

“Oh,” the designer let out, feeling disappointed, for some reason. Okay, maybe she knew the reason, but there was no way she was admitting to anything, much less when it seemed she was wrong about earlier. Or… was she? Her eyes squinted. “Actually, yes, I’m mad.”

Chat Noir’s fake ears drooped, making Marinette almost regret her plan.

“I didn’t mean to be so mean, but…” he sighed. “I just didn’t like that he was pretending to be me.”

“And how would you know he was pretending to be you?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Or that it wasn’t the first time he called me Princess?”

“I have my sources, Mari,” he said as nonchalantly as possible, but Marinette could hear the forcefulness in his tone.

“You’ve said that before,” she reminded him.

“They’re very good sources.”

“Or you saw it firsthand.”

Chat Noir didn’t say anything. Instead, his eyes stared at the ground. He might as well had responded with an affirmative.

“We do know each other, don’t we?” she whispered.

“You know I can’t answer that,” he whispered back.

“But you’re not Félix.”

“Of course I’m not that prick,” Chat Noir huffed.

Marinette smirked. “You know, you say you weren’t jealous, but then you say stuff like that.”

Once again, Chat Noir seemed to be at a loss of words. He gave a loud huff, and turned towards the railing. He rested his forearms on the cool metal to clasp his hands together.

“I don’t see any reason why I should be jealous,” he mumbled.

Marinette almost gave an exasperated sigh. His attitude was almost completely opposite of what he was saying. It tempted her so much on forcing out what she thought he was hiding, but the idea sounded so similar to what Annabelle did to them that very same day. Of course, Marinette wasn’t some random paparazzi messing with them, yet it still didn’t feel right.

Instead, she stepped to his left side and tried catching his eye. Noticing what she was doing, Chat Noir averted his gaze away from hers. However, the turn of his face was not enough to hide what was clearly a tint of pink on his cheeks.

“You know you can tell me anything, Chat,” Marinette whispered, trying to suppress a smile.

“Not…everything,” the boy sighed.

The girl frowned. “I know not everything, but I won’t judge you for having mixed up feelings.” Marinette bit her lip for a moment, trying to gather the courage to say what she wanted, while hiding the sting it brought to her heart. “It’s fine if you say you never want to be with me, but feel protective of our friendship.”

She was about to continue, but Chat Noir snapped his head towards her. His eyes scanned her features, making Marinette feel somewhat conscious. She quickly blinked several times, hoping her eyes didn’t betray her own feelings. Slowly, Chat Noir’s eyes widened.

“Marinette, I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” he said, almost blurting it. “I only said that because I got overwhelmed with Annabelle’s questions, and I was very close to mess up. So I said that to compensate for my mistake. But I swear I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh.” This time, Marinette was unable to hold in a breath of relief. “Well, that’s nice to know.”

She looked back at her partner, who was now squinting at her.

“What?”

He smirked. “Why are you smiling?” he asked with a teasing tone.

Marinette’s stomach jolted and a hand flew to her mouth.

“I’m not smiling!” she protested stubbornly.

“Oh really?” Chat Noir drawled. He then proceeded to poke her cheek. “Then what’s this? Because I doubt your face is usually this squishy.”

“Stop.” Marinette lightly slapped his hand away. “Why would I be smiling?”

“Why would I be jealous?” the boy responded mechanically.

They both gave one last laugh, when the questions properly registered for both. They stared at each other with wide eyes for a second, but almost immediately burst into nervous laughter.

“Y-yeah,” Chat Noir started, scratching the back of his head. “Dumb question, I guess. Totally dumb.”

“Heh, y-yeah,” Marinette squeaked. “Silly so—I mean, uh, you know…We’re being silly, right? Chaton? Pal? Buddy?”

Mindlessly, she lightly elbowed his arm, all the while letting out an awkward giggle. When she realized what she was doing, she whined and clapped a hand to her face. When she dared to peek through her fingers, Chat Noir was giving her the most bewildered look she’d ever seen on his face. Almost…familiar.

“PFFTHAHAHAHAHAHA.” His cheeks puffed, just as he fell into hysterics.

Marinette couldn’t help but stare for a moment, something nagging at the back of her head. Yet all instinct led her to simply giggle from behind her hand.

“You know,” the boy heaved, trying to control his laughter. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who makes me laugh as much as you do.”

Marinette pouted. “Do I make you laugh at me or with me?”

“Both,” he shrugged.

The girl huffed and stuck her tongue out to him, giving way for another chuckle from the leather-clad hero

“Don’t make this cat catch your tongue,” he joked.

But almost instantly, the implication of the joke made the two teens blush once again and Marinette hide the appendage in question. They remained quiet, until Chat Noir cleared his throat.

“Marinette, can I ask you something?”

“Chat, I think we’re way past the point that you have to ask me if you can ask me something,” Marinette chuckled. Chat gave a light laugh and took a deep breath. Marinette frowned. “What is it?”

Chat visibly gulped. “Why do you like Adrien?”

Marinette blinked. What brought this on? And why did he seem nervous asking?

“Well,” she started, “there’s a lot of things I like about him.”

“I’m not asking what,” Chat quietly interjected. Marinette gave him a curious look. This was… different.

“I don’t think anyone has ever asked me why. Everything okay, chaton?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat as he said it. “I’m just curious.”

“Hmm,” Marinette tapped her index on her chin, thinking. “Because… He’s kind. That was the first thing that struck me about him. He cares about the people that surround him, even if they don’t show him the same kindness back. He’s selfless, and he’s much more determined than he realizes. In fact, he was so determined to attend school, he actually escaped his own house against his father’s will. Huh,” she thought for a moment, “I guess I should add courageous to that list.”

She looked back at her leather-clad partner, and was taken slightly aback when she saw a strange expression on his face. It seemed familiar, like she had seen it before. A look she had seen during akuma attacks sometimes.

She cleared her throat when her stomach did that pesky somersault.

“W-what about you?” Stop stuttering, for goodness sake! She cleared her throat again. “Why do you like Ladybug?”

“She’s amazing,” he responded simply, still with that weird— Dazed. She had seen him admire her as Ladybug like that from afar, when he thought she wasn’t looking. Guess he was just lost in thoughts about Ladybug, she thought. But there seemed to be something wrong with that thought. There was something that didn’t fit. Something about her statement was wrong. Why did it feel wrong?

“She’s smart, brave, has a need to help others, which is pretty amazing in itself. You know,” he leaned on the railing, his forearms resting on the metal bars, “she’s a lot like you.”

Marinette almost chocked on her own saliva.

“Whaaat? Nah,” she waved a hand dismissively. “Psh, Ladybug and I? Nah, no way. We’re nothing alike. Ha, ha. That’s crazy talk.”

“Are you kidding?” Chat Noir chuckled. “You two are the bravest people I know. Heck, I’d say you’re braver because you save people without powers.”

“You don’t know that Ladybug doesn’t,” she mumbled. But as soon as she realized her potential mistake, she followed with: “B-besides! I can’t handle myself in an interview as well she can.”

“I don’t know,” Chat Noir shrugged, ignoring her first statement. “You handled yourself amazingly today. I think you could give Ladybug a run for her money.”

The pig-tailed girl cleared her throat, for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

“Is that you comparing me to Ladybug?” she asked, in an attempt to distract him from the similarities between her and her alter ego.

Yet, to her surprise, he smiled.

“No,” he said. “You’re amazing all on your own, Marinette.”

Oh, I wanna punch you, the designer thought, as her cheeks had grown hotter than they had ever been. I’m screwed, aren’t I?

“Thank you,” Marinette mumbled.

“And I really mean that, Princess.”

Marinette looked up to his eyes. From the softness of them, she could tell his words were genuine.

“Since when are you such a charmer, minou?” she teased, bumping his shoulder with her own.

Chat Noir giggled. “I’m only charming when I want to be, and with whom I want to be.”

He then playfully pushed her with his shoulder. Marinette giggled and did the same. But Chat Noir fell further to the other side, about to fall over. When Marinette grabbed his arm, he quickly straightened, his shoulder pressed against hers once again.

“Kidding,” he chuckled. Marinette groaned and was about to hit him, but realized the hand she had placed on his arm was now trapped under his own clawed one.

The laughter died away. The girl’s eyes were focused on their hands. She could see, from the corner of her eye, that Chat Noir was also staring. Yet, she didn’t pay mind.

Ever so slowly, the gloved hand moved and entwined his fingers with hers. Marinette could feel her heart skipping beats. She then looked up, just as Chat Noir did the same.

There was something different about his expression, like it was searching for something. And like him, she was looking for something, too. What that was, she wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, she wanted it.

She shifted her eyes from one spot of his face to the other. She noticed how his mask seemed to be of a different material than his suit. She noticed how well his skin seemed to be taken care of. She noticed how the pupils of his cat eyes could become larger.

But the last thing she expected to notice that evening was how soft Chat Noir’s lips were.

#Caged ML #ML Fanfic #Marichat #their-destinys-writer #Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette #Adrien #Ladybug #Chat Noir #ao3 #ffnet #wattpad #Chapter 12 #Post

30 notes · View notes

jobone123 · 4 years ago

Text

The real question is how I'm still smiling after COVID1900 SCIENCE# add it should piss u off

But to say I dont like seeing weak white men n pregnant steroid blacks CALL ME ACCIDENT

When 1 person died n blacked out after I broke his arm SECONDS you got POWER fucked up

56 nights was a joke

I'm on some be the first to lay down forever shit DO U KNOW WHAT THAT ATTENTION WOULD DO TO YACHT

Handsaw was nothing to YACHT SUNRISE I would laugh n say thank u for the satellite views fuck blondes I love black bae

It bothers me NASA but to know I know I ACCIDENTLY KILLED EVERY KID DOWNTOWN MIAMI TWICE I'm not Sorry because they didn't suffer WHAH A FEW DAYS fuck u bae gets stabbed every night with shit

Food Poisoning is why were not excepting bodies anymore 1 building had over 100 steak COMPUTER a ready to be sacrificed OVER YIUR USED 10 BODY SACRIFICE S FUCK THAT NEW VS OLD CAR

To have bodies left over WHY YOUR DAUGHTER DOESN'T MEAN FISH SCIENCE I got a mermaid THAT SUCKS MY DICK EVERYTIME IM AT THE BEACH dont tell aquaman

If I were YACHT 1 plane would be self DEFENSE

0 notes

6of575-oldblog · 7 years ago

Text

happy end - excerpt

This elf, sin’dorei by the look of ruddy skin and forest green eyes, is an older elf. Like him. There’s a weariness here. It’s in the flat stare that sizes him up, and the introductions that come without a customary bow. Niceties get waved aside with a rusty voice and a gleaming metal hand.

“I’m Ven’ari Daybreak,” this elf states in cultured Common that’s at odds with the informal treatment. “You’re Senumeros Quicksand. I already know, so let’s move on. Oh, and--do me a favour? Skip the teacher-student claptrap. The day I let someone call me “honoured master” to my face is the day I die. ”

Meros clicks his teeth, points clattering together to bite off scripts he’s learned in meeting others. He’s grateful for less to talk aloud with, but at a loss for its lack.

Ears held loose and low with uncertainty, Meros trails behind at Daybreak’s back. Night elves are usually taller than their exiled “cousins.” Daybreak is no exception: Meros might be a little short for the standard male night elf, but he still has several inches of leg on this blood elf. He has to mind his pace or trod on unfortunate heels.

Besides, what Daybreak loses in height is gained in bulk. The bare, broad back and squared shoulders Meros stares down at are just further reminders of old inadequacies he still sees with his own lanky body.

One of his other adopted brothers joked with him once that at least his heathen god Elune saw fit to edge him in hard lines and gave him an ugly face to match his uglier voice. They’d had a good laugh about it, a troll and an elf, both making light of raw truths.

And it is true:

His lost years took their toll. Ate him away. Gentler curves that She graced him with were the first to go and sure he counts his blessings--but still. Still. He’s put on a lot of muscle he’s proud of in the long years since the eldest of three trolls found him amid desolate ruins but it’s none of it the blocky hips or the wide back of the elf he walks with.

Meros is always going to be too narrow-shouldered and long-limbed. Too small in body. Too... Meros.

Daybreak leads them to a rope-and-plank bridge. It spans a vast ravine and a part of the temple Meros has yet to visit. He’s a bit charmed that Daybreak pointedly marches across the swaying walkway with chin lifted and eyes pointed straight forward.

More so when he hears, “I’ve mastered many things--but fear of heights is still a daily walk.”

He grins his laughter at Daybreak instead of give it out: a close-mouthed grimace of all his teeth and his eyes squinted almost shut.

Daybreak looks at him from the side for it. Says nothing at first.

Meros isn’t so good anymore at knowing the correct expressions from others. He can’t name whether he’s offended his substitute teacher or not, but the weathered face that he carefully watches for clues of doesn’t smile back at him, and those pink ears, reddened even more for the brisk chill, are set forward and held stiffly high.

When they reach the security of the other side and Daybreak has feet planted to firm stone again, Meros shyly offers a mangled apology in quiet Thalassian. He means it--even if he can’t say his rhotics right ever again.

The new look this earns from Daybreak is a lingering one, though the distant expression and neutral cant of ears remains. Meros thinks maybe it’s sort of searching. Or confused. He wouldn’t blame Daybreak for confusion. He knows exactly how he sounds, and it’s not just his accent in Thalassian that’s atrocious.

“Lianji mentioned this,” is said to him at length, and not unkindly.

His heart stutters in his chest, torn between anxious shame--and shameless gratitude.

“I’m not going to ask.”

Meros blinks slowly, his head canting sideways enough to be noticeable. It dredges out a laugh from Daybreak at last. Rusty as the blood elf’s voice. Twice as soft.

“I don’t care about what happened, here--” Daybreak reaches up and taps Meros on dull grey lips with metal fingers made too cold to be pleasant. Then promptly pantomimes throwing something aside. “--Or there, yesterday. I’m sure that’s rude of me, and I’m sure both things came from justly, tragic places.”

Daybreak stares off briefly into middle space. Starts to massage fingers into where grafted metal joins flesh. Finally says, more lowly, “We elves are good at that, aren’t we?”

Meros thinks of another elf with a false limb like this. Skin so deep red it makes Daybreak’s look white. An elf so small and so young and so full of spite, as much as with hope.

Meros airs out his grimace some more, masquerades it as another smile so it strains his hawkish face with his efforts.

“Yeah,” Daybreak agrees with a squint upward. “Sure as the sun, we are.”

Then with a roll of his strong shoulders in a careless shrug, Daybreak adds:

“Elves endure. We keep going. Like you and I should be. This way.”

Falling back into step slightly behind and to the side, Meros mulls over Daybreak’s comments while they take winding stairs down and down and down further. These fan out and circle at their end into a modest courtyard, penned in by a trickling moat and graced with a well-tended shrine.

He doesn’t really quite know what to think or feel about Daybreak’s easy dismissal or the deliberate omission. Others have been eager to draw out all the details; their appropriate noises of sympathy are always paid like some kind of ticket bought to a goblin’s sideshow. A part of it, Meros is sure, is morbid fascination. The need to share an othered experience for a few moments without the horror of actually living it all the time.

He decides it’s a relief: to not have to struggle through vocal explanations for once. For his handicap to simply be expected, adapted around, and moved on from to other things more pertinent and pressing.

It’s a little like being home with his partner. Abruptly, Meros has got another kind of smile slipping onto his face. It must be a particularly stupid and mooning one for how Daybreak eyes him even longer after they both stop at the centre of the stone shrine.

Feigning study of elegant coils chiseled out in the Jade Serpent’s image, Meros tries to school his face into something at least marginally less lovesick.

“That’s the closest thing to serenity,” Daybreak says next to him, “I’ve seen on you since you came here.”

It’s Meros’ turn now to look aside. He raises both bushy brows until the feathery tips quiver at bowed ends with their weight. He tries hard to make his unspoken question plain enough. He also tries just as hard not to give into the full-body blush threatening to heat him up from inside out at the thought of being observed so closely enough or for long enough that such words apply.

His effort works. He thinks. He isn’t laughed at and Daybreak takes half a step into Meros’ space. Close enough to jab a finger at him, just under his hooked nose.

“Whatever’s got you making that ridiculous dopey face--you should use it.”

He considers this even while reflexively leaning his head away for breathing room where Daybreak isn’t yielding it.

In faint puzzlement, Meros says, “My... fah-moh-ee?” like it’s half an answer, half a question. He watches the moment of struggle as Daybreak’s mouth moves to repeat what’s been awkwardly given. Meros is painfully familiar with this soundless shaping of the limited syllables he can actually voice and the old, disgusted shame threatens to creep back in.

Finally: “If that’s it.”

Which is vague enough it doesn’t tell Meros if Daybreak knows what was said or if pride just won’t allow admission.

Either way, the point’s been made. Daybreak withdraws, that finger kept levied in his direction with an unerring aim.

“Focus on what helps. The pandaren’ll all tell you meditation’s about clearing your thoughts. It is, and--it isn’t. They like to use breathing as their focus--didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Ah. There it is. He can’t hold back the body blush or the shame now. Face burning in spite of the cold, Meros tucks his ears and tips his chin down until the puffy green bangs curling thickly at his forehead slide low to hide his eyes from view. The bound tails at either side of high cheekbones slip across his collarbone and dangle weighted before his chest.

“You’re not alone.”

He peeks through his hair at Daybreak. The blush gets worse just like he feared. It’s a dry awful heat spreading down his tattooed neck and up along his long, heavy ears.

Rather than clarify, Daybreak’s index finger slides to one side of Meros and draws his gaze with it. Ears rising some to swivel that way, Meros stares back up the winding steps and thinks of the ease in walking the path down to here.

“There’s a multitude of methods, Quicksand. You just have to find yours.”

Teeth clicking and lips thinning out, Meros counters dubiously with, “Whah if I cah-ah eveh fie ih?”

“If you can’t--? Oh. Tch.”

Silver-coin eyes tilt around to Daybreak, though Meros keeps his face angled to the steps.

“With that attitude, sure. Be hard to find, then.”

Reflexively, Meros shows his teeth again, and this time--Daybreak smiles, too. It’s reserved and small and done mostly with the eyes. Daybreak’s closed smile is comforting to Meros because it’s familiar. He almost asks:

Were you a soldier, once? Because it reminds him strongly of another just as reserved who smiled only with their eyes. Who always spoke kindly and encouraged him, too.

He doesn’t ask. He’s aware he’s desperate to chase away his loneliness in this remote peak surrounded by strangers.

But still.

He flicks the lighter greyed tips of his fingers from in front of his mouth on outward. As he tilts his left hand so that it fluidly presents from sign to outstretched palm held out and waiting, he forces out:

“Fhake Ou.”

“Sure,” Daybreak takes his hand and clasps Meros by his forearm with the other. “Let’s begin, yeah?”

The moment that he’s let go Meros bobs his chin--and his fist. He’s eager agreement in a wider flash of all his filed teeth with ears forward and quivering in anticipation.

“Yes.”

The smile Daybreak shares is kind and the blood elf’s not so terrible company either.

So maybe this teacher will like him.

#world of warcraft #blood elf #sin'dorei #night elf #kaldorei #quel'dorei #monk #hexfold glories: rawboned by 10k lies #yellow tomorrows #transparent stories #6oftext

1 note · View note

captainschmoe · 7 years ago

Text

I Will Survive [Beta] - Chapter 10: The Pit

[A/N: You guys have no idea the hell I went through trying to write this. Better be worth it. THIS IS LONG.]

[Summary: In which Anti takes Sean to “the hub,” and Sean finally reunites with a friend.]

[Previous - Next]

Here he was again. He remembered. Waking up outside in the dark and unnaturally still silence - though this time, he was on his backyard lawn rather than out in the street. No bright lights blinding him, just the glow coming from the inside of his house illuminating the vicinity. The stiff grass tickled his skin and made it itch like crazy. Fucking grass. Sean spent a solid minute scratching his arms and neck. Felt good. Left a whole bunch of marks all up himself, but that was fine.

So. This was his house. Again. But at least this time, he knew what to expect. He was a little bit calmer. Only a little. Because while he may have known how to get out, he knew that if he attempted to dig up his ghost out of the ground here and lie on it, he’d only wake up in his makeshift grave in the real world, eat dirt, die again, and be sent straight back here. How the fuck was he supposed to get out this time, then? If he could just find somebody to send back to the real world and dig up his body... Man, that sounded grosser than it actually was.

Should he go searching around the house again? Or stay outside? Maybe he’d find Signe’s ghost in the cinema room. Not that that would be of any help to him, unless he could stick his head inside it and listen for any more “broken spirit”-type voices.

On that thought, maybe he should check and see if there was anything useful. Just in case.

Sean’s muscle memory once again tricked him into both walking the wrong way to the front yard - hello, fence - and groping at the wrong side of the door to open it. Then, he overthought where the light switch would have been and swiped his hand up the wrong wall. Someday, he hoped he’d get used to - no, wait, that would mean he’d have to be here a long time. Never mind.

Here was the backwards, discolored living room again. The memory of his first time coming to this world came flooding back. The memory of a time when his core belief was that he was just in a very vivid dream. A time when everything was normal upon returning. A time when he could say this world was beautiful, in a way. An interesting concept, having a darkened, mirrored world. Not so much the total emptiness aspect. That was creepy. Made him feel like something was going to jump out from behind and grab him. Especially on the stairs. Sean kept an eye out both above and below him as he climbed up, just to make himself feel better. He figured there were no other living things in this world, but he could just never be too sure.

The door to the cinema room was shut tight, just as it was in the real world. Sean pulse raced slightly in anticipation. The moment of truth. Would he find a ghosty, dotty Signe behind?

Three, two, one...

And with a click of the knob, Sean found his answer:

No.

“Fuck.”

What sense did that make? He was seriously, completely expecting it to be here. Her petrified body was in this room in the real world. How come it wasn’t here? That was how this whole thing worked as far as he knew. Unless the rules were more intricate and complex than that. Which they probably were.

Well, shit. Where was he supposed to go now?

Blindly tearing the rest of the house apart yielded no results. The bedroom, the drum room, back downstairs, his office, the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen... Mindlessly searching every corner, behind every door. No sign of Signe or anyone else he knew. He could check outside again, but as far as he knew, there was nothing of interest out there, besides his own ghost in the ground, that was. But wouldn’t he just reawaken in his makeshift grave, with all the dirt he inhaled still caking his lungs? That wasn’t exactly something he was thrilled about reliving again.

His feet carried him out there, anyway. If there wasn’t anything of interest in his own yard, maybe there’d be something of interest in the neighbors’. Sean scanned everywhere. His roof. The trees. The street. The fence. The patch of dirt where “Mark” had dug his grave. Sean knelt down by it, scooping some up with his hand. His ghost should be in there. He wasn’t going to to try and sit in it. Just listen for a voice. That was all he wanted.

Sean dug and dug out the dirt like a dog making his great escape. Dots escaped out, prompting him to dig even faster, more frantically. Dirt caked his nails, it was in his hair, his clothes were getting dusty and filthy, and he didn’t care. He just needed to hear that voice. He was desperate for some kind of an answer.

“There we go.” The head was free, and Sean dipped his face inside. There was no sound whatsoever, exactly what he’d expected. But there was indeed his own voice:

Betrayal, neglect, mistake...

Sean lifted himself upright. What... What did that mean? Was there a reason that two of the more sad lines he’d created for Anti were the ones popping up? Something inside him insisted it wasn’t a coincidence. He stood up, instinctively brushing dirt off his clothes even though he knew it was futile. Great. Now he was filthy.

So where now? He could wander down the street. He had to. He had literally no other options.

Putting both of his feet on concrete, staring down the road... It felt like he was embarking on a grand, nerve-wracking adventure. Sigh... “Here goes nothing.”

He hardly made it to the neighbors’.

“Whah!”

Sean got stuck mid-step, trapped in a whirlwind of white, digital hexagons tessellated over a silver, featureless space that held him for a few seconds before releasing him again. Aside from the scuffs on his palms and the jolts of minor pain spiking up through his wrists as he instinctively caught himself on the ground, it surprisingly didn’t hurt at all.

...What? His house again? What the fuck? He didn’t remember that from the last time. It just endlessly looped? He found himself in roughly the same area as he woke up. What sparked that? What, did he wander too far away from the source or something?

Wait. Over there. By the fence. A glowing dark blue light... made of dots! A ghost! That definitely wasn’t there before; he was around the fence long enough to be absolutely certain about that. Sean made a mad dash for it. Was it his? Maybe? Hopefully?

Oh, God. It was a pair of legs, pelvis parked right up against the fence. No top half. Was it...?

Sean peered over the edge of the fence, and almost immediately flung himself back again. Ohh, gross! There was the other half. And Jesus Christ, it looked uncomfortably like Mark. Which would make sense, since Mark was right there in the real world, but holy shit, that was fucking nasty! Did Anti seriously somehow slice him in half on their fence? How did that work? Just how strong was he?

And forget how Sean himself was going to get out of here; how the holy fuck was Mark supposed to get back now? Being buried was one thing, being sliced in half was another. Do they just stick the two pieces together in the real world and hope for the best? Or was he just fucked? If he was just fucked, Sean was going to do absolutely everything in his power to get him unfucked. He’d be damned if he was going to leave him behind here.

Maybe he could look inside Mark’s ghost and hear another voice. Sean dropped down on all fours and stuck his head inside a leg. He heard the distant, indistinct chatter of two men. Unable to discern what they were saying, he focused instead on:

Corrupted. Impostor. Good puppet.

"Okay, so... related to Anti possessing him before murdering us. Got it. Glad I did that.”

Sean sighed. Well, at least there was one silver lining: if his ghost was here, then that must have meant...

“Mark!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Nothing.

“Mark, you there? Anyone there?”

...

Nothing. Maybe he was really knocked out somewhere? Sean jogged around the yard in search, hoping it wasn’t the case that Mark had accidentally warped to another dimension like he himself just did a few minutes ago. How did that work, anyway?

Sean’s thoughts were interrupted by an odd... humming? coming from the roof. Yeah, it was humming. It was coming from none other than Anti, perched on the edge with his legs kicking and dangling, and his claws scraping against the knife he held, as if it were a nail file. Ugh. The intrusive thought about the feeling of scraping his own nails on a chalkboard made Sean cringe.

Anti’s digital voice sounded quite a bit different from anything he remembered Robin giving him. Strangely soft and deep. His humming had little, if any, sense of melody or tempo, no identifiable time signature or tonic. It sounded slightly more musical than conversation - but only slightly.

It was too dark to make out his facial expressions. Come to think of it, this was the first time he’d ever seen Anti in person. Maybe he was just different in the flesh than he was on a screen.

“Hey,” Sean called.

Anti stopped humming and scraping his nails, turning his head downwards towards Sean. Huh. No eye twitching? No nausea? No dizziness? Probably just didn’t affect him the dream world, was all.

“Hello, Sean,” Anti replied. Again with the softness in his voice.

“You don’t call me Jack?”

“I would, except you and Jack are two different people now.”

What? Did the community actually do it? Did they actually create Jacksepticeye, as a flesh-and-blood character? Sean felt a twinge of pride. He would have smiled.

Anti leaned back, gazing up into the sky, encouraging Sean to do so, as well. A dark navy blue, barren and lonely, with no clouds, stars, or moon. It felt like it was going to suck him up right off the ground. It freaked him out a lot, actually. “It’s sad, isn’t it?”

Having his fill of disorientation, Sean looked back to Anti, now crossing and uncrossing his legs and feet. “How empty it is?”

“You get it.” Anti slid off the roof with no hesitation, sticking the landing on a patch of lawn free of shrubs and garden stones with a grunt and a glitch. Jeez. That didn’t hurt? That was two stories up.

Anti locked eyes with Sean and outstretched his arms in a grandiose gesture. “This is my world. This is the place where I live my life. Day in, day out. Except when I take over your body,” he added, pointing at Sean with the knife. Sean said nothing and made no sudden movements as Anti disengaged from conversation and wandered the yard, twirling the knife over and over in his fingers, then closing his eyes, tilting his head back, and bringing it up to his slit and bleeding throat, rubbing it against the skin without breaking it further, as if playing with it. “I remember the very first time you let me take over completely.” He brought the knife back down and re-engaged Sean with eye contact. “Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah.” Where was he going with this?

“You should. You were there, after all.” He pointed the knife at him again.

“And... you weren’t?”

“It feels like I was, but I know - I know I wasn’t actually there.” Anti continued to pace and fidget with the knife during his response. “On some level, I know that it’s just in my memory. But it feels like I might as well have actually lived the moment with you.”

Sean wanted to say he didn’t get it, but Anti being as unpredictable as he was, he felt one wrong word could leave him getting a little too intimately familiar with that dried-blood-covered blade. Or those shiny black claws straight out of his nightmare. All that was missing was the ichor dripping from them. Maybe if he says it gently... “Hey, Anti, I’m not really sure I understand what you mean by that.”

Anti suddenly stopped moving altogether. Oh, shit. But he didn’t attack like Sean feared. “My memories of our times together were retroactively created. I wasn’t born yet during the first two takeovers. But when I was born, the memories came then, all at once.” He paused, then resumed his pacing. Sean continued to stay put.

“Okay... I think I got you. But how come... When were you born?” That was the first question that should be answered.

“Sometime shortly after PAX. When the idea that talking about me brings me to life started stirring.”

That made sense, he supposed. Well, it also didn’t. It didn’t make sense that supernatural bullshit happened. What was the word for imaginary things that came to life like that? A tulpa, he thought? No other supernatural things existed - that he was aware of - but here was Anti, and here was a twisted dimension to go with him.

“And every time you canonized an event, or acknowledged a theory that your little community made, or came up with a little idea of your own... That’s a new memory. I’m filled with them now.”

“Whoa.” Sean didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“It would be more impressive if I didn’t hate it so much,” Anti growled through gritted teeth.

Tread carefully, Sean. “What do you hate about it? I want to- daahh!”

Anti’s knife whizzed past his face, burying itself to the hilt in the tree behind him. Anti’s breathing deepened. Fucking hell! Sean was too stunned and scared to say anything, mouth agape.

“I missed the fun, that’s what!” he snapped in his face. Spittle splashed Sean’s cheek and forehead, and the sclerae of Anti’s eyes turned black. He bared his fangs, panting. His breath was hot against Sean’s nose. Oddly, it smelled of nothing at all. “You think I enjoy the fact that of all the moments in my life I’ve ever actually lived, it’s the moments I spend here? Now? When your little community wants me punished for crimes I never thought to commit?”

What crimes? Sean wanted to ask. He hesitated, afraid of pissing off this... demon thing in his face any more.

Anti backed away, fetching his knife and wiping the wood shavings off it. “’Slow and steady kills the Chase’... Who said that, Sean?”

Well, now he had to talk. “I did.”

“Mm-hm. But who did everyone get angry at for it?”

Oh. That’s what this was about. “You.”

“Right.” Anti wandered over to the ghost’s legs, squatting down beside them and staring blankly at his handiwork. The tension in his face disappeared, to be replaced with... what looked like sorrow to Sean. His eyes blinked much more slowly, his mouth still downturned.

“He better be able to come back in one piece,” Sean said.

Anti paused. “...It may not necessarily be impossible, but-”

“Oh, fuck every single fiber inside you. I swear to God...” That was it. Sean no longer cared Anti mutilated him on the spot for saying this. Adrenaline pulsed through his body. “If I learn that there’s no way to bring him back to the real world in a single, functioning piece, I will not only kill you, I will make it the longest, most agonizingly painful death you could ever possibly imagine.” Sean hoped Echo wasn’t lying when they said all he had to do to kill him was officially declare him to be dead. Otherwise, he just looked like a jackass right now.

“But would you really do that? I’m under the impression you wouldn’t.”

“You want to test me?”

“I can entice you a little more, if that’s what you’d like.” An atypical, non-glitchy chuckle rang out, and Anti stood up tall once again. What was his problem?

“Do you want to die?” Sean’s hands clenched into fists.

“Your lungs are full of dirt, your precious skat has a battery lodged deep in her windpipe...”

It was creepy as all fuck hearing Anti call her that.

“...and that other couple got themselves and their van smashed inside out. None of you are exactly getting out of here easily, either.”

What!? “Oh, fuck you!”

Sean bolted for Anti, body-slamming him straight into the side of the house with a satisfying crack of the siding and Anti’s eyes rolling back. Anti’s body phased and glitched out of existence, causing Sean to fall forward and catch his chin and nose on the now-broken siding. He felt a hard pound on his lower back that shoved him all the way to the ground. And now he was pinned down - did Anti just sit on him? Agh... sure felt it. That felt like a butt on him. Sean tried to lift himself up. Tried. It was like there was some other force weighing him down. Anti shouldn’t have been that heavy. Shouldn’t he?

“That’s what Signe tried to do when she met me for the first time.”

“W-what?” Sean asked, voice somewhat hoarse. “Why would she do-”

“Of course, she didn’t stand a chance. Even when she tag-teamed with Mark, they were destined to fail. Poor things, being bullied by the evil Antisepticeye.” He forced a laugh. Hollow.

“What the fuck did you do to them?”

“Nothing that bad. Hard as it may be for you to believe, I don’t actually get any sort of enjoyment out of actually hurting people. I led them to the hub, and I only struck them as much as was absolutely necessary.” He sighed. “That Mark, though... He’s a feisty one.”

The thought of Anti “striking” Signe even once... And Mark who knows how many times... God, the nightmare. “You make me sick.” As if on cue, a cough forced its way out.

“I know. I saw that I made you vomit more than once.”

“Fuck off.” But there was something Anti said that Sean wondered about. “What’s the hub?”

“Everyone has their own bubble, based around the spot where their bodies converted.” Anti opened his arms, indicating towards the space around them. “This is Mark’s bubble. His new one, anyway. The hub is my bubble. It’s... much different than everyone else’s, to say the least. They can’t escape without my, your, or the other egos’ help.”

“So the other egos are real?”

“Yup. I made them. Except for Jack. Your community are responsible for that one. Are you proud of them? Of me?”

Sean felt like that was an awfully loaded question. But something wasn’t adding up. “So where are the other egos if they so far haven’t helped anyone get out?”

Anti’s only response was his mouth very slowly upturning into another sinister, toothy grin.

Wait.

Oh... shit...

Realization hit Sean. “They all... follow you?”

Anti clapped his hands like a giddy child. “You’re learning!”

Sean pretended that Anti’s reaction was normal. “Can I learn something else?”

“Go ahead!”

“So how come you didn’t take me to the hub?”

“Because you can get out. You’re one of us. The Septic Eyes or Septic Egos or whatever we’re called. We’re like a little clan! You didn’t know that?” Anti was way too excited about this. Wasn’t he just outrageously pissed a moment ago? “And if you’re part of our little clan, you get the special abilities you need to enter and leave both the hub and this world in general by your own free will!” Anti’s cheeriness was obliterated in an instant. “Assuming you have a real-world body to go home to...” he muttered under his breath, towards his feet. “I mean... if you want to play musical chairs with innocent people’s bodies, that’s fine, I guess...”

“Wait, I don’t understand something,” Sean said, ignoring that last bit for now.

“Oh, my God,” Anti said at full volume again, exasperated, “how many questions are you going to ask?”

“As many as I damn well please.”

“No. You get one more.” Anti held up one finger, even leaning down towards Sean’s face to stick it right in front of his nose, for emphasis. “I’m being really generous here.”

“All right.” Sean had a feeling Anti wasn’t going to properly answer this next one. He had to ask it the right way. “So... is Mark a part of our little ‘clan,’ then, since he was able to escape?”

Anti squinted, like Sean had just so happened to pick the single stupidest, most trivial question in existence. A face that asked him, Are you dead serious right now? “No? There’s nothing special about him.”

A beat of silence hung in the air. But... But then... “So Mark never... What?”

“I said one question. You’ve pissed me off enough.”

Anti jumped off his back, and a black wisp of smoke streaked with green shot from right above them, grabbing Sean and enveloping him within itself, completely obscuring his vision. Despite otherwise being obviously a gas, it was strangely solid, like a cloth bag. Sean felt himself being lifted up into the air, being carried away - probably to the hub. But being basically kidnapped wasn’t of the greatest concern to him at the moment.

What the fuck? So Mark never escaped? Then who was-

...

Oh...!

Oh my God, what the fuck!?

Are you fucking me, Anti?

“Musical chairs with people’s bodies?”

“Good puppet?”

“What? No, no, no, let me help you.”

Anti found the little boy sobbing in his bathroom. No, no, no, he was way, way, way too young to have been brought here. Anti didn’t care how it happened.

The boy’s ghost - he guessed that was what it was going to be called now - was in the tub. Aw, fuck. He had to bring the doctor out here. Maybe even Marvin and Chase, too. But he didn’t want to leave the boy behind. Or scare him by bringing him somewhere even stranger.

“Hey,” he said, in the most comforting voice he could muster, lightly grabbing the child’s arms. “I’m going to leave for a bit, but I’ll be back with some people who can help you, okay?”

The boy only cried louder, probably terrified of Anti. Fuck. There really was no good option.

There never was a good option.

Still, Anti took off to retrieve the egos he needed. It was better for the child and his family in the long run.

That’s what mattered.

The black bag dissipated, and Sean wound up face-down in more grass, still discolored grass, only now, instead of a navy blue sky, he was met with a thick, soupy fog that completely obscured his vision beyond a few meters in front of him. But it didn’t obscure an enormous black web far above his head. Taking a look behind him revealed the “web” to be a mesh of branches of a tree, utterly dominating and overwhelming the sky above in all directions. Veins of vivid blue light pulsed and crackled, racing up the trunk and through the branches. And now that he thought about it, there was no way that physics should allow those branches to stay upright. Right? They just stretched out so far, Sean felt as though gravity should definitely be bringing them down. They were all twisted and wound around each other like a fungus, though. Maybe that made them more stable. Who knows? Sean wasn’t well-versed in the topic.

Anti was strangely nowhere to be seen. In all his gawking around at the surroundings, absolutely nowhere did Anti’s mug pop up. Wonder where he went?

“Is anyone here?” he called.

...Nope.

Sean took a few tentative steps forward. The visible patch in the fog moved with him. More grass. He kept walking. Even more grass. Nothing but grass, and that enormous tree. At least he could see well enough that he wasn’t going to tumble over the edge of a cliff or anything. Actually, the fog was just thin enough to allow him to see a wide, dark structure in the distance. Exploring was his best option. Sean continued onward.

The wide, dark structure appeared to roll into view as he walked closer, as did a new, smaller, thinner, and blacker structure. That was odd. Sean turned around, checking the tree behind him. Huh? It also looked like it was kind of flattening against the ground. He paced back and forth over the same spot, checking both the alien shapes ahead and the tree behind. Indeed, the objects didn’t just simply get bigger and smaller as he got closer or farther, but rather they were likewise rising and falling like the scenery in a pop-up book. He made the tree creep over and back under again and again, mesmerized. It was freaking him out.

Sean would admit, this place was cool and all once he got past the creepy factor - it truly felt like he was in the final dungeon of a video game - but he had friends to find. Maybe. Hopefully. He assumed. It was strange, but he almost kind of wished Anti was around - he may have been an evil little bastard, but at least he was someone? Someone in this hell universe, to provide some kind of a voice, some kind of commentary on top of the ambient creaks and whistles and drones and buzzes trying to drive his brain to madness.

A noticeable thinning in the fog made the landscape rising over the horizon significantly clearer. Most of it was barren, save for the small handful of those alien structures. A black cubical building with a spire reaching up to the heavens, and no windows. No windows, except when the spire got periodically zapped with red lightning from the surrounding clouds, in which case window-shaped lights of the same color flashed on its sides. Just in front of that cube was a tiny speck of what appeared to be an ordinary house. Although, considering he couldn’t see it too well from this far away, chances were that there was something weird about it, too. In the distance, Sean could make out the silhouettes of mountains far too perfectly symmetrical and repetitive to be real, like they were simply copy-and-pasted onto a canvas. The landscape almost completely distracted him from the transition from lush grass to dry, cracked dirt beneath his feet.

But the thing that caught his eye most, the thing that kept his attention the longest, was a massive funnel pouring down from above. A vibrant and shining green, with black stairs spiraling around from the flattened bottom to the point where it merged with the silver, foggy sky at the top. More oddities decorated the... wait, sky? Ceiling? Couldn’t be the sky if there was stuff on it, right? So was this all underground? Or what? How was there a lake on the ceiling?

Sean tried calling out for someone again. “Hello? Anyone there?”

Still nothing.

Approaching the funnel allowed him to sneak a peek of the inside. Pitch black. The blackest black he’d ever seen. Even more so than the tree. More so than the stairs wrapping around. The purest, darkest, scariest black color. It was difficult to describe it to himself. He was honestly shocked that his brain was able to distinguish it at all. Why did he keep walking towards the funnel, anyway, if it was creeping him out this much, beyond just twisted interest? It wasn’t like the bottom reached the ground, as far as he could tell. He doubted he’d be able to reach the stairs. And then what? Climb to the ceiling?

So, so many questions. But who wouldn’t have them?

“Can anyone hear me?” he called out once again. “Is anyone out there?

This time, he could have sworn he heard a faint, gurgly voice attempting to say something in response. Hell, it even sounded vaguely like it said “Jack.” But then again, it could have been the ambient drones and crackles in the air around him messing with his brain.

“Did someone say something?” he called, just in case. He certainly didn’t want to accidentally abandon someone in need.

He heard what sounded distinctly like coughing and throat-clearing. “J... Jack. Help.” So it wasn’t likely his brain just fucking with him.

“Hey, I’m here for you,” Sean replied, looking around the place to try and pinpoint the origin of the voice. “Can you see me?”

“Dow... Down here...”

Further thinning in the fog revealed a wide hole in the ground squarely underneath the opening of the funnel. Sean sprinted up to the edge, knelt down, and peered inside, and at its bottom, a familiar face topped with a tuft of soft blue hair lifted his spirits for a split second, and broke his heart when he saw the pain it was in.

“Ethan!”

“Jack... Help me...” Smooth, silver-and-white rocks and boulders littered the bottom around and under him. The one under his head was tarnished with a dark red.

“Hang on, buddy, I’m coming for you.”

The sides of the hole were fairly steep, though not so much that he couldn’t walk over them. Just needed to be slow and painstakingly careful not to lose his balance. But as his feet rolled over the rounded lip, the world once again rotated underneath him, turning Ethan’s ground into a back wall - yet Ethan still lay flat against it.

“You can... walk on walls...” he croaked out. It was hard for Sean to tell if he was making an observation or giving an explanation. But knowing it wasn’t just him going crazy made it easier to just focus on getting to Ethan and not worry about physics betraying him.

“I’ve got you. It’s okay.” He grabbed his outstretched hand and tried to pull him up into a sit, but the action produced a whine of pain.

“No. My back,” Ethan moaned, tears welling in his eyes. “Stop...”

“Okay, okay.” Sean gingerly lay him back down, sitting down beside him and running a hand through his hair. “I’m not gonna go anywhere, okay?”

Ethan shakily pointed towards the funnel; Sean’s gaze followed, and then immediately went back to Ethan, not quite able to handle the colossal creepiness above - "above.”

“I fell,” he said, voice still very weak. “Stairs inside, too, and I fell.” He cringed through his words.

“Don’t talk too much if it hurts, okay?”

“Mm... Mark, Signe...”

Sean’s ears perked up. “They were with you?”

Ethan nodded. “’Er all up there.”

“Everyone is up there?”

“Mm-hm.”

Man... Sean looked back towards the funnel - not directly, but just catching it in the corner of his eye. Under his breath, and largely to himself, he asked, “How did you fall so far and not die?”

“Can’t.”

“No one can die here?”

“Nope.” He coughed again, following up with another moan of agony.

Hmm. Sean braced himself to look back into the captivating funnel. A vacuum ready to suck the two of them up into the stratosphere, assuming the stratosphere existed. From this angle, it looked menacingly like an eye, always there, always watching. He held Ethan’s hand in an attempt at security and companionship, for the both of them. Perhaps not of much help, and definitely not a miracle cure for his probably-broken back and definitely-broken skull, but judging by Ethan’s fingers curling around the back of his hand, it certainly wasn’t unwanted.

So... what was he supposed to do, then? The only thing he could think of was to scream for them at the top of his lungs.

“Signe! Mark!”

No response, other than Ethan jumping a bit in surprise, but Sean wasn’t giving up. Someone had to be around. Someone had to be able to hear his voice.

“Signe! Mark! Somebody help us!”

Sean waited for a response. And just as he was about to consider the possibility that they were truly alone, he heard the click, click, click of at large group of people’s feet sprinting towards their spot, and of a familiar, friendly voice calling back, “We’re coming, Jack!”

#jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #markiplier #wiishu #crankgameplays #fanfic #z write #i will survive #not a reblog for once #EXPAND FIC

6 notes · View notes