#why would our souls answer be the lie instead of our imperfect bodies

[the-dragons-knight]

FFXIV Write 2021

Prompt #4 - The Queen of Draic

<Late Stormblood Patch 4.5 Spoilers>

Baleful - ‘menacing; threatening harm’

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(Used some in game cutscene text for this one just cause it writes the scene so well and sets up my idea so perectly)

Silence swallowed the room with the weight of Emperor Varis’s words. The Garlean Empire was created from the beginning by Ascians, and in truth, Katsum could not say she was surprised with the chaos the Garleans had always created, the pain and suffering they had caused based on her childhood memories alone. She felt the hand holding hers under the table tighten slightly as Aymeric felt her body tense through her fingers. Hien had been gracious enough to let her dear husband sit beside her, and she was glad that he had for there were a few times that Varis had targeted Aymeric’s and Ishgard’s sorrows specifically and it had only been his quick catch of her hand that kept the seeker from launching herself over the table. She took a long breath and squeezed his hand gently in response.

“Your ‘prize’ is a lie. It would be foolish to even wonder if you would have the upper hand in such an agreement. We would all die before peace is even a thought.” She answered, a bit to her tone as she scowled at him. Again she felt Aymeric’s fingers squeeze her a bit, and she felt his heartbeat quicken with worry.

The Emperor stood then, and spoke with a strange kind of fervor, “I come not to conquer but to liberate—to free man from the prison of divergence. Imagine a world united, and one perfect race beneath a single standard! We would be masters of our own fate! We would be far too strong for the servants of Darkness and Light to dare trifle with!” He held out his hands and grinned smugly, insanely, “I bid you join me! Not as a subject of Garlemald, but of a new nation! And together we shall win true freedom for ourselves and generations yet unborn!”

Silence returned for a moment, just for a moment, and then Lyse jumped to her feet, slamming her hands down on the table, “You want to trigger another half-dozen calamities!? You can’t be serious!”

“Have you forgotten how many died!?” Raubahn hissed, “There will be no one left!”

As he and Nanamo stood to their feet, so did Merlwyb, “Did you truly imagine we would aid you in your bloodletting?”

“It is unthinkable!” Katsum wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Kan-E-Senna raise her voice, but as she stood next to the other leader that had been there that day at Carteneau, it only made sense why. Alisaie looked to Lord Hien and Aymeric, and she and Hien stood to their feet. Katsum stayed seated as Aymeric let go of her hand to stand too, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she stayed still and stared angrily at Varis.

“And what of the other worlds? The ones we “rejoin”?” Alisaie finally broke her silence to shout, “Every calamity means you obliterate a star and every soul that dwells upon it!”

Varis frowned and grimaced in annoyance, “We are all but tiny specks in an indifferent universe. We cannot hope to oppose them until we have been made whole once more.”

“Odd, the same could be said about the many small countries and cities you forced under your rule in your…‘liberation’,” Katsum said softly, a clear edge to her voice.

He did not answer her.

Instead, Nanamo spoke then instead to fill the silence, “Are these truly the words of Garlemald’s ruler?” She did not give him the time to answer as she narrowed her gaze and continued, “The flaws which you so abhor are what make us who we are. Every nation─even yours, Emperor Varis─is made whole through the combination of these imperfections, the strengths of one compensating for the weaknesses of another. While it is true that man succumbs all too often to anger and avarice, he may yet overcome his baser instincts through the forming of bonds with others, fostering community and cooperation. That the protector of an empire should not only reject these fundamental truths but seek to change them at so dear a cost to life is indefensible,” She leaned forward and very nearly whispered, “Such a man is not fit to govern.”

The power in such words could shut out even Katsum herself she believed, and so Varis of course had naught to say to retort. He drew back to stand straight as a deep frown crossed his face, his eyes narrowed with the slightest hint of Katsum thought might be defeat. Then his gaze met her, “And you, Warrior of Light? Would you refuse me as well?”

Katsum was quiet, looking down to the table and closing her eyes as everyone else’s attention turned to her. Long had she carried this secret, keeping it safe from the knowledge of their enemy, but now, after these many long years, she was ready to bear her fangs.

“Tell me, Lord Varis, do you remember an island kingdom that your armies laid siege to some years ago? It was a small island that floated on the stormy seas of Sirensong, just to the east of Ul’dah’s shores. Do you know it?”

He tsked, “I remember some report of it, of mass destruction and nothing to gain from it. A waste of resources.”

Katsum’s fingers tightened into a fist, “A waste of resources…” She hissed this under her breath where only she and Aymeric heard before she continued, “Really? I thought you knew all of our histories and the flaws we sew into our nations.”

He growled, “Get to your point, girl.”

Katsum moved to slowly stand to her feet, feeling the eyes of the others as she stood tall and narrowed her sapphire gaze threateningly, “You call me ‘Warrior of Light’, ‘Defender of Eorzea’, ‘Liberator of Doma and Ala Mhigo’, and ‘Knightess of Ishgard’. All of these titles and more I now carry, but there is another title I have borne for far longer than any other. Do you know what it is?”

It seemed it took him a moment before his eyes widened, “You can’t be…”

“I am the Queen of Draic.”

Suddenly, the Draic necklace around her neck began glowing brightly, the eye of Raihogg burning into the red jewel. To the amazement of all, a deep rumble echoed behind her as she felt the dragon summoning his form, his wings spread out in his ghostly shade behind the other alliance members and hovered his head over Katsum’s like a shield, his glowing blue and golden eyes burning into Varis. The red dragon hissed lowly, making the emperor take a step back and his guards take a single step forward, but neither Katsum nor her dragon made a move to attack. The miqo’te stood tall as the confidence she had never known flowed into her veins. Still, she reached out her hand to the Elezen man beside her, wrapping her shaking fingers in his as he took her hand to ground herself and to keep her from going too far. He gently squeezed her fingers and it gave her the assurance that she needed.

“That ‘momentary’ island was my home and its people, my family. You reduced it to rubble for nothing and killed my people without remorse. Even now, you have no thought of sympathy,” She spat these words before she retracted and spoke sickeningly sweet, “Yet that is the past, right? A chapter for the history books, written and forgotten. Yet now you ask me as us to join this cause of yours, this movement of death and chaos and insanity. The same cause you forced upon my people,” Katsum’s eyes darkened angrily then, slightly baring her feline fangs as she hissed with her Dravanian companion, “If you truly believed we would join you in such madness, then you are far more a fool than you are a TYRANT!!”

Not so long ago, she would have denied this title and its weight, but at this moment, after so many years, finally the queen had come to rule.

[mirthless-misanthrope]

I’ll Try. (Jotaro Kujo Imagine)

A/N: hooooo boy my first request! sorry, I kinda went nuts. there’s a lotta hurt here, not gonna lie, so I hope that anon is ready for this~

The request was:  Maybe you could write something about a depressed reader that self harms unknown to jotaro but he walks in on them cutting them self or something? Love ur writing :)

Trigger Warnings: Self-harm, depression, anxiety, insecurities, cutting, swearing, jotaro accidentally makes it worse at first, non-sexual body worship

Y’all blease be careful, this is some triggering stuff so i think i’ll do a “Keep Reading” thing for this one.

A message to anyone who reads this: hey. y’know, if you feel this way, and self-harm, or are struggling with depression/anxiety, i know it can be the worst. my DMs are always open, though i’m awkward and might panic. as someone that has a lotta mental issues, i just ask that you don’t send me suicidal messages, since i hate the feeling of having someone’s life on my shoulders. it sends me into panic attacks. i’m sorry. there’s more reliable resources after the imagine. i take this kinda thing... really seriously, sorry ;-;

Sending Jotaro off to his class takes more from me than usual. It’s… turning out to be one of those days. The days that I feel miserable, and out of control. The days that lead to fresh wounds on my legs due to how much I want to have control over at least one thing in my life. Now that I know Jotaro won’t be around until late at night, it doesn’t take long for me to succumb to the feeling of hopelessness that shrouds my mind. It’s stronger than ever today. No matter how hard I try to tell myself to stay away from anything sharp, my body moves on its own and takes me to the bathroom. 

Not too long after I see my razor in the shower, my hands fly out and break it, pulling the blades out and wincing at the cuts they leave on my shaking fingers. It hurts… but I can deal with this pain. It’s nothing compared to the spiraling thoughts in my mind, messing with my will to do anything. So I lightly pull my leggings down to expose my thighs and pick up one of the blades. As if my skin is the canvas and the blade is the paintbrush, I draw lines across the already scarred flesh. Not too deep, but not shallow either. Deep enough to draw blood, but shallow enough that I won’t bleed too much. I have to be cautious, since Jotaro is perceptive and I never want him to find out about… this. Crimson paints over my skin and I feel relieved at the sight. 

… That is, until I hear thudding footsteps and a knock on the bathroom door.

“What the hell are you doing in there?” Jotaro sounds nervous, something I’ve never heard from him before. How the hell does he know…? My stand phases through the door and gives me a pointed look, and I realize she must’ve flown out after him as soon as she realized what I was about to do. Goddamnit, he’s not supposed to know, anyone but him. Before I can move, Star Platinum is breaking down the door and I see the exact moment that the stand before me realizes why I had locked myself away. 

The shock in those godly eyes brings me to tears. 

Purple hands take each blade from me with such precision that they leave the see-through skin unharmed, and I gasp as the hands crush the blades with as much force as a hydraulic press. Blood drips from Jotaro’s hand, but he doesn’t move. He’s frozen, unmoving, expression showing disbelief. “Oraaaa,” my attention turns back to Star as he cries out to me. His fingers brush over each cut on my thighs, so gentle and soft despite the callouses covering his skin. How can a stand so menacing and harsh… also be so caring and mellow at the same time?

“Why.” Jotaro breaks the silence. He’s not asking, he’s demanding an answer from me. I can hear the emotion in his voice despite his glare that he’s shooting at me now. “Why would you do this to yourself. Y-Yare yare…” He finally moves, getting out our first aid kit and kneeling in front of me. “Whatever… Give me your legs. I’m cleaning those.” There’s no room for objection, so I let him pull my still bleeding leg onto his lap.

Dabbing at each cut with a cotton ball dipped in hydrogen peroxide ends up stinging more than I thought it would, but I don’t dare say anything. I’m… terrified. He found out. Now he’s going to leave me. Or maybe he’ll just lecture me? God, I don’t want a lecture. Star must sense my growing anxiety because he wraps his arms around my waist, mumbling oras of affection to soothe my worries. It works for a while, but I’m still tense and shaking with anxiety.

Wet drops splash against my legs, and it takes a few moments for me to figure out they’re coming from Jotaro’s eyes. He’s crying? Tears fall onto my shoulder too, telling me that Star is crying as well. “Ora ora… oraaaa!” Star’s grip tightens as he sobs into my shoulder. I don’t know what I should do in this situation… so I reach behind me and run a hand through his hair, showing off more scars that I’ve been hiding. It’s not intentional, but my light wince at the sight of the scars out in the open alerts Jotaro, his eyes snapping up to observe me. “Your arm… You’ve done this for a while. Yare yare daze, why didn’t you tell me…” He seems saddened for a moment as he stares, but his expression shifts back to the stoic glare I’m used to as he focuses back on the injuries littering my thighs. 

Whining, Star kisses each scar on my arm that he can see. He wants to make it better, but he doesn’t know how… at least, that’s how I read his expression. My stand comes out and pats Star’s shoulder, trying to comfort him for me since my arm is now occupied. I wish I could say something, anything, but all of my words get stuck in my throat and I can’t calm myself enough to let them out. 

Jotaro puts some neosporin on my thighs before wrapping them up with bandages. “You gonna explain why your stand dragged me back home and I found you like this? Why didn’t you say something before I left?” Slight voice cracks interfere with his words, and he does what I’m so used to seeing: he turns his sorrow into anger. “What, are you stupid? What’s the point of doing this to yourself? I know you have depression, but jesus, you didn’t tell me about this.” Despite Star’s sharp ‘ora’, he continues to grunt out sentences filled with anger, managing to hurt me more and more until I can’t take it anymore.

“S-Stop it! I-I-I know it means nothing, but I’m sorry, okay? God, just-just please… please stop hurting me…” By the end of the sentence I’m crying and I must look like an absolute mess, because Jotaro seems to be disgusted by me. Even if Jotaro is angry and disgusted, Star is the complete opposite. It’s well known that Jotaro is terrible with emotions, always giving off different emotions than what he really feels. But Star is my window to his soul: I can tell how Jotaro feels just by interacting with Star, and it’s clear that he’s angry with himself right now. There’s no way he’s angry with me, considering the way Star is still holding me with the lightest of grips possible, but his oras sound pissed. I think if I wasn’t there, he would be punching the shit out of his user…

Instead of an oral response, Jotaro scowls at Star as the stand pulls me away from him. “Star. What the fuck are you doing.” 

“Ora.”

“... Yare yare, yes, she’s in pain, but she did this stupid thing and-”

“Ora!” Star slaps Jotaro as hard as he can. What…?

Silence surrounds us after the harsh impact of the slap. Jotaro had gone flying, and Star has a large handprint on his cheek but he doesn’t seem to care. He takes me elsewhere, leaving Jotaro and laying me down on our bed. “S-S-Star, why did you… do that? You hurt yourself…” His face contorts into a sorrowful expression at my words, and I realize my mistake. “... S-Sorry, I… guess I can’t really say that, huh?” 

“Ora… ora ora.” 

My sweater is being pulled off of me before I can object. Squeaking, I try to curl up into a ball to hide my body from Star’s prying eyes but he pins me down before I can. Sure, I’m not naked since I still have my undergarments on, but… he can see everything. The endless scars all over me, the stretch marks on my sides, the extra fat on my stomach, everything. “Wh-What are you-?!” Flustered, I watch as the purple giant leans down and brushes his lips against every single mark on my skin. Kiss after kiss after kiss and he doesn’t stop, even as I try to push him away. “Star, what are you-?”

Another set of lips joins in and I stiffen. Somehow, Jotaro is here now, and smothering each imperfection with affection. “So this is why you’re afraid of intimacy,” he mumbles against my stomach. “Yare yare. It doesn’t matter if you have all these scars. It just means you’re human.” The words are… weird coming from Jotaro. He’s not one to reassure, especially when it comes to insecurities like this, so the fact that this is happening brings more tears to my eyes. One look from Jotaro and Star disappears, understanding that his user needs a few moments. “I... want to know why you do this. I don’t understand it at all. And I said… rash things earlier. Things that I shouldn’t have said.” He leans back, looking into my eyes, and I see the apology in his eyes. It doesn’t matter to me that the apology stays inside. Just seeing the overwhelming guilt is enough to make me forgive him. “I want to understand. I want to help you…” 

Hours go by as I explain everything to him. Expecting him to interrupt and tell me how dumb it is, I’m surprised by how much he listens. Once I finish explaining, he sighs, moving up to nuzzle his cheek against mine. “Damn. I didn’t know you felt like that… Yare yare, woman, listen to me. I… I know emotions aren’t my strength, but… Next time you feel like that, tell me. Let me in. I understand the why now, so I won’t yell like earlier.” His hands wander up and down my sides, comforting me while also feeling my soft skin. “I’ll tell you as many times as it takes. I love you. I don’t say it much, but I do. You… You’re beautiful,” he looks down at my body, “even with the marks you hate. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” The feeling of his hands coming up my back makes me shudder, snuggling up to him without a word. “... I’ve never seen this much of you. Now that I know… you’d better show me this more often.” I’m assuming he means to show him any new injuries or scars… “I won’t force you to do anything, but-”

“I-I… I’ll try. For you, Jojo.”

~~~~~

here’s a few things to help with self-harm urges:

1-800-DON'T-CUT – More info on self-injury

1-800-273-TALK – A 24-hour crisis hotline if you're about to self-harm or are in an emergency situation.

To Write Love On Her Arms (http://www.TWLOHA.com) - A non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury, and suicide.

1-800-334-HELP – Self Injury Foundation's 24-hour national crisis line.

for those afraid of phone calls, you can also text “CONNECT” to 741741 and a trained crisis counselor will text with you.

for those who don’t want to bother others and just want to deal with it yourself, there’s an app called Calm Harm. it’s free and helped me a lot!

please everyone, stay alive and well. i believe in all of you. <3

[day-en-las-nubes]

“Can you drop the knife? Why don’t you drop the attitude first sweetheart”

I saw red. I lost all control over my faculties since the moment I had laid eyes on the picture message. I held a knife in my hand and I felt this rage rushing through my veins like poison. Burning all traces of common sense, making me forget how much I had come to love this man. How essential he was to my life. He had denied it, yes. But the picture didn’t lie.

“Can you drop the knife?” He raised an eyebrow, his nonchalant attitude maddening and deafening me and making me loose the smidgen of coolness I had left. Then he defiantly rolled his eyes at me and walked away.

“How dare you turn your back on me?” I heard the words come out of my lips as a growl. I followed him to the dining room.

“We can’t really talk when you are like this.” He said dismissively

“You better drop the attitude, ‘sweetheart.’” I threatened him, my grip around the handle tightening until my knuckles were white. I wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt me, to make him bleed for what he had done.

“Or what? Are you really going to stab me?” I thought I had heard him say but his voice sounded muffled as I felt suddenly dizzy. I noticed his penetrating green eyes fixated on me. ”Go ahead then” He mocked.

I launched at him, a small part of me begging me stop, but my hunger for revenge too strong, too overwhelming. It bent my good sense to its will, making me into its mere puppet. I raised the slick blade as I got closer, a scream ripping out of my throat.

Itsvan opened his eyes disproportionately as I got closer. I saw the disbelief reflected in them, the shock as I was about to plunge the knife into his chest. Neither of us considered me capable, but in those fleeting seconds, both of us were in for quite a surprise.

He dodged my attack when the blade was only inches from him. He swayed to one side, and ended up with a cut on his arm instead. He covered it with his hand automatically, blood oozing from it. He raised his face toward me, his jaw clenched, his eyes crazed.

He grabbed my wrist with his bloody hand hard, twisting it until I dropped the knife, making the loudest noise when it landed, bloody, on the wood floor of our dining room. My fury a slow boil now, my adrenaline still so high even I couldn’t feel the pain as he kept squeezing my wrist.

“Did you just try to fucking stab me?” He asked me, his teeth clenched, his eyes so wide open they would have scared me if it weren’t for the stinging I was feeling deep inside my soul.

“It’s the least you deserve.” I spit the words out at him, tears emerging from my hot cheeks and cascading down.

“I’ve already told you I didn’t screw her. What else do you fucking want from me?” He stared at me while he spoke, my desire to believe him seeping its way in, making me almost snap out of my unfaltering blindness. He released my wrist, throwing it to my side carelessly. “Maybe I should’ve, so all this would have been for something”. He told me, cold and with disdainful. I slapped him.

He pushed me out of his way, my back slamming against the wall, and headed towards the kitchen to wipe his bloody arm with a paper towel.

“We are done” I screamed, but he seemed to ignore me. “Did you hear me, DONE!” I followed him to the kitchen.

He glanced up at me, piercing me once more with one of his lewdest looks. He ran his pupils up and down my tiny dress.

Angry or not, my body quivered.  Itsvan had this sexual power that subdued and defeated me at every turn. The sad thing being that he didn’t even have to try too hard to make me want him. I had wanted him since I first saw him, one year ago. I had felt mesmerized by how sweet and icy and filled with the rawest of passions he was. All mixed into one, like a deadly cocktail, I knew one day, it would be my undoing.

Itsvan …would always remain the love of my life regardless of us splitting up after this night.

We had gotten physical before in the heat of our fights, but this time, something felt permanent, unfixable.

I felt sad and pathetic….but I most of all I felt powerless. I had crossed a line and I couldn’t turn back time.

“We are done whenever I say we are done” He walked over to me, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me up effortlessly. I tried to fight him off, I kicked and punched at him, but he was taller than me by a landslide, and even though very slender, he was extremely strong.

He placed me on the kitchen counter and forced my legs open with his hips. He sunk his fingers in my chin and pulled my mouth to his mouth, forcing his tongue inside.

“Ouch!” He stepped back when I bit his lower lip. He wiped it with the back of his hand, his other hand keeping a lock on my lap.

I should’ve remembered how much it turned him on when I got feisty, so I knew too well that wicked smile that was spreading across his face. He kissed me hard again. This time, the taste of his mouth slightly weakening my resolve, and like always making me so aroused.

He released my lips and stuck his middle finger inside his mouth, his eyes on me. Meanwhile, he ripped my underwear with his other hand.

“You are going to regret this night” He whispered, a trace of bitterness in his voice. He stuck his wet finger deep inside me roughly.

I jerked, my body tensing up, betraying me. He was too damn sexy, too perfect even with his beautiful imperfections.

To put it simply… I was…irrevocably and utterly…his, and he knew it all too well.

He jammed his finger in again and again, his thumb working on my clit, rubbing it the way he had done so many times.  It was as if he had a secret map of my body, and only he was master of the techniques that produced in me the most unbelievable orgasms of my life.

I shut my eyes, maybe if I stopped myself from seeing his gorgeous face, my body would stop feeling its disloyal sensations.

I felt him lowering his face to my chest, sliding the sleeves of off my shoulders. He licked and nibbled at my hypersensitive nipples.

I clenched my fist in his hair, stopping him in his tracks.

“She was my best friend Itsvan” I told him sobbing when I reopened my eyes, wishing with all my heart he was telling me truth earlier. I focused on in his eyes, searching and hopeful.

“I never touched her”. He pulled his finger out of me, and I found nothing but honesty in his face.

“Forgive me” I threw my arms forward to embrace him, but he reared back.

“We are doing this my way” He said, his voice with a certain tinge of hurt.

He unzipped his gray jeans, and pulled his very erect cock out. He grabbed both my knees and jerked me forward, the expression on his face still cold and merciless.

He plunged deep and carelessly into me. His movements hasty and harsh.

I tried to reach out to touch him again, and once more, he retreated from me, his cruel behavior tearing me from the inside out.

He plunged into me fiercely climaxing shortly after. Without even looking at me he quickly pulled out and zipped his jeans.

He placed his hand over his eyes, judging by his body language he looked regretful.

We had both crushed either other that winter night. We had cut each other where it hurt most, and it was almost certain there were going to be scars, even if we were able to fully forgive each other.

We both knew it.

“What the person who sent you that picture didn’t tell you was that that day it was pouring down raining” He took a deep breath and pulled a little velvet box from inside his jeans. ”I was driving by when I spotted her on my way from buying you this” He opened the box and a shining diamond ring emerged from it. ”Since you guys have been friends from age five, I wanted her opinion on the ring I had picked.” He explained. “Only a few minutes after we started talking we had to step inside the lobby of the hotel, avoiding getting completely fucking soaked.”

He laid the box next to me on the kitchen counter, as I tried to speak but no words were coming out. Itsvan started to walk away.

“Will you stay?” I asked him, my voice croaky. He look up at me, his eyes moist and so very tired.

“Maybe tomorrow” He answered flatly as he disappeared into the living room. The sound of our condo’s door being slammed shut shortly after. Its echo ringing in my ears.

 The end.

 --- --- ------ ----

[miitzwrites]

Chapter 9. I’ll be a shadow of a flame

New chapter is finally here!

Hi everyone! First of all, thanks so much for your comments, support and interest  on this little story. We’re reaching the end! Just two or three more chapters and it’s over. I could add more stuff and plot and all, but my addition would defeat the purpose of this fic, so yeah. This update is a bit shorter than planned, but I thought it’s better if I write what actually fits in the chapter, so here we goo.

As always, English isn’t my first language and this piece was unbeta’ed. Find me on tumblr @ miitzwrites

Enjoy!

(Read the whole story on AO3 and FF.net)

The white suited villain stood immobile. His eyes seemed to lost the focus as he stared at nothing. Master Fu’s words resounded loudly inside his head. ‘She’s dead’, he had said, but how could she? His father had told him his mother would return, so naturally, he refused to believe that she wasn’t alive anymore. Questions filled his mind, and in the rational part of it, he knew he wouldn’t like the answers. He fell to the floor, beside the still unconscious body of his father.

The rest of the heroes watched him with a mix of confusion and sadness, especially Chloe, who had been there for Adrien, sharing the same kind of pain. She wanted to offer him comfort, but Master Fu held up his hand, signaling her to wait.

Chat Blanc looked at his father, and a wave of rage invaded him. He moved his hands to grab the man, but instantly, he let out a growl of pain. His head was pounding, and the pain shoot through his whole body. “H-help me,” he weakly muttered, “please help me.”

“Pollen, now!” The Great Master ordered the little god to use her power. Pollen flapped her wings, and golden dust fell over Chat Blanc, calming him immediately, and causing the young man to collapse. Master Fu approached him, and frowned, noticing that his white mask had some cracks on the right side of his face. “It has begun,” he whispered to himself, ignoring the curious gazes of the others. “Jade Turtle, please help me to put Gabriel in one of the spare rooms. And Queen B, please tie Chat up. He won’t be too cooperative when he wakes up.”

Nino did what the Master told him, followed by Alya. Chloe tied Chat’s hands with rope, and a single tear fell down her cheek. “How did this happen, Master Fu?” She inquired him, and the old man sighed, “Gabriel wanted to bring him back, but he used the corrupted power of Nooroo and Chat’s ring. Even if Plagg doesn’t rest there anymore, his energy was still present at the time. Two negative forces could only make this happen.”

“He doesn’t seem to have a soul. What if he hurts Mari? What if he kills Gabriel?”

Master Fu placed a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder, “He has unfinished business, that is the only explanation as to why he was strong enough to come back to life. For revenge or for love, either way, both forces pulled him back.” Chloe nodded, trying to understand his words. “Is there anything we can do to help him?”

“Sadly, I have never seen something like that before. But for what I can grasp on the matter, the only thing we can do is to help him to find the rest that his soul needs.”

Ooooo

“Babe please talk to me,” Nino said, stepping out the room after leaving Gabriel on the bed to rest. Stubbornly, Alya shook her head, refusing to even look at him. “You know I would never lie to you, Alya, but I couldn’t say anything.”

“Have you ever heard about ‘lies by omission’? Then don’t come to me with your puppy face trying to fix everything. You fucked it up, Lahiffe, and big time.”

As the successor of the Great Master, Nino knew that his responsibilities belonged only to him and no one else. The weight that he had to carry on his shoulders was something that he wasn’t sure Alya could completely understand. Tentatively, he took her hands, obliging her to meet his gaze. “Alya, you need to understand that being the Great Master is a huge commitment, but isn’t as rewarding as being with you. I don’t want to hurt you, ever, but sometimes, I need to separate myself from you to keep you safe. At least, ‘professionally speaking’.”

“Bullshit,” she mumbled, but didn’t move away. “Why can’t we work well together like LB and Chat?”

“Because the fox can eat the turtle, and that’s not always enjoyable.” His joke made her crack a smile. Being a super hero wasn’t as exciting as the comics led her to believe. It was a hard job, most of the time, complicated. But she was greatly rewarded when she returned home to Nino. They were a good team on their own, with their imperfections and all, they worked in -almost- perfect harmony.

“I won’t apologize because I’m still mad,” she finally said, interlacing her fingers with his, “But I can tell you how much I love you, even though you’re a big idiot.”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Something very bad, probably.”

Nino kissed her palm and her wrist, then leaned down to capture her lips. For an instant, they could forget the difficulties that they were facing. For a moment, nothing else mattered. Reluctantly, she broke the kiss, and rested her head on his chest, breathing in his comforting smell. “I miss them,” she softly said, and Nino nodded sadly, “I miss them, too,” he admitted, running his fingers through her long hair. “Is there anything we can do to help them?”

“Master Fu told me that our best scenario is to have Adrien return to an unperturbed rest.” He told her, feeling a knot forming down his throat.

“Are you saying we need to…”

“No, babe, it’s not like that. He needs to understand that he doesn’t belong to this world anymore, and once he does that, he will rest in peace. But, frankly, I believe Mari is the biggest string that chains him here.”

Ooooo

He opened his eyes slowly, feeling dizzy as if he was floating. He didn’t recognize the room, and he couldn’t move, something stopped him from moving his hands and feet. “I underestimate Pollen’s power,’ an old voice spoke near him, but his clogged mind couldn’t identify the owner.

“Where am I?” Chat slurred.

“You’re safe here, Chat Noir, we will help you,” the old man said, but Chat didn’t like the sound of that name. ‘No, no, I’m not Chat Noir, I am Chat Blanc,’ he thought, as his mind started to find clarity in this situation.

“Marinette. I need to go back to her,” everything started to come back in place, his eyes finally focusing on the short man who stood in front of him.

“Tell me where she is and I’ll bring her here,” Master Fu said, and Chat Blanc let out a low growl, feeling like a caged animal. Master Fu noticed that Chat’s eyes changed from green to lilac in an instant, but the emptiness he saw on them earlier, was still present.

“I won’t let you or anyone get to her. You won’t take her away from me!” Chat hissed through clenched teeth, the sound sending an uncomfortable chill down Master Fu’s spine. He looked composed, though, but decided not to get closer to Chat. “She’s suffering, Chat. Don’t make the same mistake as your father did.”

At the mention of his mother, his eyes softened, returning to the electric green. “How did it happen?”

Master Fu sighed sadly. It was hard for him to talk about her. She was special, and her kind soul made her the perfect holder for the peacock. But she was also stubborn, and that trait led her to her ungodly fate. “Years ago, when our temple was destroyed, Nooroo was stolen. I couldn’t find him or the miraculous, but I never stopped trying. By the time I had a solid clue about his whereabouts, Cecilia offered to rescue him. In the process, a dark spell hit her, provoking a separation between her body and her soul. We couldn’t make the ritual to link them back together.” He didn’t want to mention that Gabriel ignored his pleas to leave Cecilia in the Tibet where he could help her, and instead, flied them both back to Paris, prolonging the separation and, therefore, causing her an accidental but irrevocable damage.

“And why would Gabriel want the miraculous then?”

“Because he thought he could bring her back. But no one has ever tried to use the miraculous of the Ladybug and the Black Cat together.”

Chat Blanc pondered his options, and a malevolent smirk made its way onto his face. The sound of an explosion coming from within the house caught Master Fu’s attention, and he ran off the room, leaving Chat alone. The rope wasn’t strong enough to contain him, so he used this chance to break free from his binds, and escaped through the window.

Oooo

“Master Fu, it’s a miracle!” The little green god flied over to his former Master, after the smoke cleared. The explosion came from downstairs, where he kept tucked away the miraculouses. Before he could ask what was going on, Plagg came flying into view, a little dizzy after his sudden awakening. “Where’s Tikki?” The god of destruction rasped out, looking frantically around the room for her, “I can’t sense her, Master Fu, I can’t sense her!” His electric green eyes turned glassy, the feeling of despair was clear on his face.

“Tikki must be with her holder. I’m sure they’re both fine,” Master Fu tried to calm him down, but Plagg shook his head, letting out a whine of protest. “I’ve been there the whole time, Master Fu! I didn’t rest fully because something dragged me back to Adrien’s ring, and when he woke up, a part of me did, too,” Plagg began to explain, “I know he has Marinette, but he took her earrings, and now I can’t sense Tikki!”

The commotion caused by Plagg alerted the others, who arrived quickly to see what was going on. Pollen was the first to step in, and slowly, she started to flap her wings. A wave of anger filled the black little god, who raised his paw, creating a black orb. That was the cataclysm in its purest form.

“Don’t you fucking dare to play that old trick on me, Pollen,” Plagg threatened, and Wayzz intervened in, “You two need to calm down and control yourselves! We’re not helping Ladybug fighting against each other.”

The orb on Plagg’s paw disappeared, and Pollen returned to  Chloe’s side. Master Fu, who has been a mere witness, cleared his throat, gaining Plagg’s attention, “You have a special connection with your holder, Plagg, do you know what he wants?”

“He wants to protect his family. Marinette and his kitten brought him back.-“

“Wait a fucking minute, did you say kitten? Is Marinette… Oh my God!” Alya cut him off, and Plagg sent her a nasty look, “As I was saying, he wants his family. But something darker wants revenge on Gabriel for being Hawkmoth. I’m not sure what feeling is stronger.”

“Wait, how do you know that she’s pregnant?” Alya, still in shook, asked, and Plagg grunted. “I’m a cat. I know things, and I have a legendary sense of smell. Trixx, shut your girl up, will ya?” The little fox rolled her eyes while Wayzz shook his head disapprovingly.

“Plagg,” Master Fu tried again, “we’re trying to help you, please, be more cooperative.” The black cat lowered his eyes and breathed out, “I’m scared for my Tikki and her girl. Adrien would never hurt them, but this monster is soulless. Yes, he will protect them, but at what cost?”

Master Fu nodded, and turned to Wayzzz, “Take him to rest. He needs to recover his strength.”

“But Master Fu.-“ Plagg wanted to protest , but Master Fu shook his head. “Not now, Plagg. If you want to help Tikki, you’re going to do what I tell you. No but’s or questions.”

Plagg reluctantly accepted. “I can’t lose her again.” He whispered, seeming more fragile that anyone had ever seen him.

“We’ll make sure to protect her, Plagg. She, Marinette and the baby are going to be safe. But you need to trust me.”

“What about Adrien?”

When Master Fu didn’t answer, Plagg understood.

There’s no salvation for the damned.

Ooooo

The first thing Marinette noticed when she woke up was that her wrist had been released. The second thing, was the comforting smell of fresh baked eggs and croissants.

She raised herself up on her elbows, and look around the room, finding herself alone at the moment. Then, everything came like a wave, flooding her head. She covered her mouth, afraid of letting out a sob. She was pregnant, and that could’ve been the best day of her life if only her greatest love hadn’t returned in the form of a monster. Her hands moved instinctively to her still flat stomach, and she couldn’t help but smile. A little life was growing inside of her, and she would do her damn best to protect it.

“You’re awake, Princess,” Chat’s deep voice startled her. She looked at the door, and found him standing against the doorframe, with a grin on his face. “You must be hungry. I made you breakfast,” he moved closer and sat near her on the bed. Marinette politely declined, shaking her head. Chat frowned, but didn’t say a thing.

Marinette observed him, and a veil of sadness covered her features. It was a hard concept to grasp that less than 24 hours ago, she was mourning him.

“She’s dead,” Chat said out of nowhere, and her eyes widened in fear of what he meant. “My mom, she’s dead,” Chat clarified after seeing her shocked face. “I don’t understand. The old man said she had died, but Gabriel never told me anything. As far as I still know, she left us and never came back.” The hardened expression on the man softened a bit, and Marinette reached out to caress the side of his face. It was impossible not to care about him, not to love him like the first time, even knowing that  her lover hadn’t returned fully.

“I’m so sorry, Chaton,” she whispered softly, and Chat leaned into her touch. Her fingers brushed over the side of his mask where it seemed to be cracking up. “Is this normal?” She asked with genuine curiosity, and he only shrugged. “I guess so. But don’t you worry, Princess, nothing will happen to you or our kitten. I’ll make sure of it.”

His words sent an unpleasant feeling through her body, and Marinette retired her hand from his face. Chat didn’t comment on her movement, only leaned down and placed a soft kiss against her belly. “I’ll be back soon, My Lady.”

“Where are you going ?”

“It’s better if you don’t know, Marinette.”

“Chat, wait, where are my earrings? Where’s Tikki?”

“She’s fine, Marinette.”

Chat Blanc turned to the door, and opened it, but then he stopped. He looked over his shoulder and said, “When all of this is over, Princess, I hope that you find forgiveness in your heart for me.”

[silent-mime]

What did Apollo do to betray the Senate? How did Piper and he break up (did he leave her)? Im sorry I have so many questions, I want to know everything ;;u;;

HOOOOO boy that’s… that’s a tough one to answer quickly. This is gonna be long, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry ;___; I WILL NOT BLAME ANYONE FOR NOT READING THIS, ITS REALLY LONG AND REALLY POORLY WRITTEN. Not to mention it leaves out so much detail that really enhances the story, but if I included all that then let’s face it, this would be a friggin novel, and nobody wants that v__v 

Would pictures help? Maybe pictures will help.

So Piper, Apollo, and Turbulence were all originally a trine. Well, sort of. They were part of a new military program that the Autobots were trying out, in hopes of competing during the early parts of the war. Their whole thought process was “What if we mutated tanks into seekers?? All the strength of the tank and all the speed of a seeker, this is a great idea!” So they enrolled their top elite guard tankers, (Piper, Apollo, and Turby) to become the first ‘mech-made seekers’. Manually programmed a trine-bond, conditioned them to think and act like seekers, completely re-built their entire bodies. They essentially were turned into super soldiers.

Flip on over to the Decepticons side during all this. Sparkplague, a highly regarded scientist, has begun work on a new program, which he likes to refer to as the ‘Refurbishing Program.’ The whole premise was that Decepticons were losing their best mechs on the battlefield too quickly to keep up, so his thought was; If we don’t have enough soldiers, then we’ll simply TAKE the autobot’s best soldiers, and reformat them to be our own. Full on brainwashing, rewrite their memories and thoughts, turn them into basically 100% obedient workhorses. 

Back to the Autobots. Apollo is the trine’s golden boy. He’s shown promise of being one of the best soldiers the Autobots have ever had. He’s taken to the new body, new coding, he’d passed every test with flying colours. By now, him and Piper have earned quite a lot of attention as the typical ‘perfect couple.’ However, this was really just something that was implied. They never initiated it themselves. “It would be good for the headlines” was mostly the excuse. Still, they tried. 

Apollo, Mr. Perfect, unfortunately realizes that he isn’t so perfect after all. He doesn’t seem to be able to love Piper, despite his best efforts. In fact, he hasn't’ been able to love just about anything. At all. Even when he gives his best, his spark just won’t offer it, and yet the headlines continue to ring out just how great of a power couple they are. Piper seems to agree with them by now, but Apollo has other feelings. 

Soon, the Autobots become aware of the Decepticons’ refurbishing program, and decide to do something to stop it. They pick their top bots, everyone’s favourite manufactured trine, to do the job. However, Apollo can’t stand the thought of trying to survive this mission with Piper. She’s a living beacon of his one flaw; being unable to love. He’s supposed to be perfect, but he can’t be, so long as she’s around. He quietly suggest to the Senate, that she’s unfit for the mission. That her anger gets too out of hand, and would blow their cover. Their golden boy would never lie to them, so they easily take the bait, instead keeping Piper behind as the other two go off to earn their stripes. Having devoted her life equally as much as the others, Piper can’t seem to understand why they would feel her to be unfit for the mission she had literally trained her whole life for. She was designed for this! Quietly, the bitterness begins to grow..

When the Decepticons ‘kidnap’ Apollo and Turbulence, they couldn’t be more thrilled to have these fancy new super soldiers be brainwashed into following Decepticon orders. And in a way, they get their wish. Apollo was able to survive the treatment and fake his way past their suspicions, but unfortunately, Turbulence’s processor was completely fried. 

Alone, Apollo swore not to let anything stand between him and gathering intel to combat these awful bots. But the more time he spent with them, the more he began to realize that they weren’t monsters. Simply different views. The beaten, the worn, the lower class, the disposables. Very few of the decepticons he worked with were the monsters that the Senate had lead him to believe. Then one fateful evening, he discovered Clicker, through a series of unfortunate events that eventually put them both in the medbay. From then on, he couldn’t get his focus off of the mech. Clicker had, through his unique circumstances, managed to flip on that switch that Apollo had believed to be broken. Something about this little blue scientist had found a way to ignite a flame in his spark that he had been convinced was burned out forever. From that moment on, Apollo realized that the only thing that mattered most was to protect this mech that had found a way to fix his flaw of being unable to love. He COULD love, and pit, did he love that little mech. Albeit reluctant and definitely unwilling to cooperate, he eventually won Clicker over, and the two became inseparable. Clicker, a recluse who had never really had any form of intimate friendships let alone relationships, appreciated his patience and acceptance. It was something he never felt from his, ahem, other relationship. The only thing that ever came between them, was Apollo’s obsession with being perfect.

But duty comes with responsibility. Eventually he received the call, that it was time to return to the Autobots and report on his mission. But now, he was met with a hard choice. He had found something among the Decepticons that he hadn’t ever felt with the Autobots. Mecha with disabilities were accepted as one. There was no system of class or disposability. They had more unity in their ramshackle squadrants than the Autobots had on their entire planet. Through that, he had made his decision. He would become a double agent, and destroy the Autobots from the inside out. 

But that too came with a cost. Forced to leave no trace of himself behind upon his return, he had to fake his own death, leaving Clicker to believe that his loved one was gone. It was a price he needed to pay, in order to protect the mech in the future.

Upon arrival back home, Apollo was rewarded generously for his great feat. The soul survivor of his mission, and for risking his life for so long in such a noble way, their golden boy was promoted to a Prime. Something that Piper, who had maintained their military, won countless battles, and leaped metaphoric hurdles in triumphing over the Decepticons, resented entirely. She had worked for that title, spent her whole life trying to achieve it, and just when they were about to give it to her, it instead went to the mech who had left her feeling entirely unwanted and unlovable. Her hatred continued to grow, rage slowly consuming her by the mistreatment, which inevitable ended with the Senate sending her off to supervise the infamous Garrus-9 Prison, in complete isolation, where she could do no more harm. It was there that her bitterness consumed her, swearing revenge on the mech who had stolen everything from her. Her spark, her praise, her glory, her title as Prime. He took everything, and got off scott free, while she was banished to a prison ward.Things kinda start to break up at this point. Piper goes on to have her own arch, which Apollo later returns to to meddle around and weave his own plans in. Her prison is resident to countless Decepticon warriors, ranging in ranks, all of which Apollo plans on using against the Autobots when the time comes. {By a stroke of luck, Clicker ends up among them, and the lost flame between them is quickly rekindled. There’s more to that, but to go on about it would only make this endless rant EVEN LONGER than it already is. X__X There are a few small exchanges between Piper and Clicker though worth noting. She may hate Apollo, but she’s also heavily envious, that Clicker managed to earn the love from the Prime that she had worked so hard for and never received.)

He convinces the Senate that Decepticons can be reformed, and accepted once again into Autobot society, all of which being a ploy to cover up his plans to sneak them in right under the Senate’s noses to overthrow things once and for all. After all, their golden boy would never lie. 

All goes well, save for the hateful spite filled battles between himself and Piper. Things have long since turned bitter between them. To him, she still represents his only flaw. The only thing that ever truly ruined him. He simply can’t let go of it. She stands for everything that makes him imperfect. She must go.

In Piper’s arc, she too turns on the Senate, feeling betrayed and used by them, having devoted her entire life to them only to be shunned and treated like a monster. In the end, her and Apollo actually end up fighting for the same goal, to overthrow them. But their hate for each other has grown too strong, and their plans are thwarted by one another, caught in a death match on the surface of Cybertron, unwilling to give up until one of them is dead. It’s in this fight, that Piper ripped out his optic and his servo. The optic to prove ruin his perfect face, and the servo to replace the one that she had lost due to his actions so many years prior.

It’s Clicker, who puts an end to it. Striking Apollo down with a bullet himself. The Prime was blinded by his need to be prefect– to eliminate Piper as if that would somehow do just that. Only when he sees the mech he’s fought this hard for pull the trigger on him, does he realize just how corrupted this concept of perfection has become. By the time he’s recovered from the injuries, Clicker has disappeared, and he’s lost the Senate’s trust. Though they still have no idea about the Decepticon army he’s been assembling beneath them, they do know that a Prime had tried to kill one of their own officers who he had once claimed to have loved, for reasons unclear to them.  

Their decision was that the time he spent among the Decepticons had corrupted him. In their eyes, he was seduced by their false ideas of freedom and equality, and that his mission had been a failure. Not only that, but private logs had been discovered from his time spent among them, revealing his feelings towards Clicker, whom had been taken captive among numerous others that had been involved in the plans. He was stripped of his title of Prime, strip him of his wings, and as punishment for allowing himself to be so corrupted by their ideology, they had made the decision to execute Clicker, along with all the others they had discovered, to prevent it from happening again. Now, and only now, did Apollo finally break. Everything he had ever done, everything he cared for, was because of Clicker. Without him, he couldn’t function. There was nothing in the universe more important to him. But his break down was only further assurance to the Senate, that this mech had to be terminated in order to have some hope of getting their super soldier to cooperate again.

Nowhere else to turn, Apollo’s only choice is to find Piper once more, and beg her for help. Having lost everything, even his wings, he has become a broken mech. Still believing that he cannot physically love another creature, she refuses, but when she sees his true reaction to it all, she realizes that he has changed. There is something in the universe that he has managed to love, and even though it wasn’t her in the end, she finds sympathy for him. It helps, that she too has a close friend in line for their execution. In the end, they agree to work together, putting aside their lifelong war against each other, and finding peace in the proof that they are each equally vulnerable and simply trying to change the world for the better. Apollo manages to make peace with his imperfection, accepting that it was never something that could have been achieved in the first place, and decides to keep his missing optic and servo as they are, as a permanent reminder.