#would they have something like the parisian catacombs?

[classyhatsvt]

After getting over the excitement and hype that we're not only returning to Kalos, but getting a Pokemon Legends game set in Kalos, I am still cautiously optimistic. Pokemon Legends Arceus was genuinely the first time Pokemon had evolved on the formula from a portable game to something for consoles, and I was very disappointed to see that they didn't carry those changes over to Scarlet/Violet. If this new game has more in common with Legends Arceus than it does Scarlet/Violet, and it's actually finished and stable this time, I'm greatly considering playing it.

...I do have a soft spot for Kalos because I loved those games, and Chespin is my favorite Pokemon.

[yolowritter]

Lilanette Week: Body Swap!

Hello there everyone, and welcome back to my insanity! I ran into a few technical issues yesterday, hence the delay, but we're back now and you're getting double the Lilanette! It's a Win-Win, really! Anyway, I only have one more complete fic for this event and it's the Free Space on Saturday, but I figured I should still give you all the cliffnotes that @nicodemoon and I came up with! As an aside, this is a future au taking place sometime during their college years.

So, our story begins with Ladybug, and an Akumatized Villain! Do not ask me what their name is, I beg of thee. Naturally, they have the power to swap bodies between 2 targets, because Chrysalis is very smart. She's already forced the Akuma to blast her, and now only needs either Ladybug or Chat to get hit. Ladybug discerns this by the fact that no civilians are being attacked. Anyway, Chat tries to take the hit for her, but unfortunately...the Akuma just bashes him aside and blasts Ladybug anyway. Marinette opens her eyes to find herself in a dark, cramped place. The Parisian Catacombs, of course. Naturally she immediately notices that she's in Chrysalis' body and detransforms, running around to find a mirror. And when she does...Marinette has no idea who she's looking at. Yes this is inspired by that episode Flash and Lex Luthor from the animated series. Of course she asks Nooroo for the girl's name, but since she technically isn't his Holder, the poor Kwami just gets a case of bubble-mouth. Knowing she has limited time and that her own ID is most likely compromised, Marinette wracks her brain to figure out why this girl looks vaguely familiar. And then...she remembers! Because civilian!Chrysalis (lets say one of Lila's other identities) has actually met Marinette before! Where, you ask? In a bar of course, where she half-drunkenly asked her out on a date because she was pretty! At the time, Alya had been with Marinette so she didn't accept, but that's the memory that sticks out to her. Immediately after this, Ladybug blinks, finding herself back in her own body with the Miraculous Cure zipping through Paris. Chat compliments her for being incredible as always (possibly not having seen her get hit at all), but comments that she probably didn't need to take things as far as she did. We can assume that Lila-Bug went in the cartoonish violence direction to defeat the Akuma. Anyway, Ladybug goes home, anxious about Chrysalis possibly knowing her identity. In fact, she doesn't get a wink of sleep because of what happened last time (London Special). But in the morning, at 9am to be exact, her doorbell rings. Marinette isn't expecting anybody, so she holds her Miraculous close and goes to answer. Opening the door, she sees civilian!Chrysalis awkwardly standing there with a bouquet of flowers. She says hi and nervously asks Marinette on a date, which she accepts this time. End Fic!

Why does this entire thing happen? Because Lila wanted to find out Ladybug's identity. She's already developed a crush on Marinette, and this would be a bit funnier if we add a small beginning section with Lila ID #27 somewhere in the background. Something like attending a lecture in college, a coffee shop, you guys get the gist. Naturally, since her identity is compromised, Lila has nothing to lose and decides to shoot her shot with the local superheroine. Lilanette is presumed to ensue, and everyone is happy!

Obviously I didn't have time to write all of this in real fic format, but I still wanted to share what was drafted for this prompt. Shame I didn't get to make a fic because I think it's hilarious, but Saturday is much more important! Anyhoo, I'll see you all...in like 20 minutes with the Spooky prompt rant, similarly to this, but until then, Stay Miraculous everyone!

[tumblingxelian]

Cortical Cocoon AU: So I happened to be looking at the Missing Floor tvtropes page and I learned about Ghost Stations.

Of which the Parisian Metro has at least a few.

And it seems to me that such a location could serve as a decent spot for an Imago who wants to avoid the catacombs to set up their Nest or Hive.

The most prominent ones are the Ghost Station that had never opened in the first place, namely Porte Molitor and Haxo. Both of which don't tend to have trains passing through due to their locations and lack any surface connection.

Another station an Imago might want to use as a Nest/Hive is Saint-Martin, which closed in 1939 due to WWII, opened again after Liberation, then closed again due to being redundant.

It's apparently been used as a homeless shelter, with the eastern section currently being used a day shelter.

An unscrupulous grouper Imago would likely take that as a benefit.

Sorry for the wait, been wrapped up in a map making project.

Anyway dang this is super cool, Paris has so many places for villains and monsters and cults to set up, how wonderful! & yeah I can definitely see those places becoming habitats for Imago.

Vampire: Well its not the Catacombs but this Ghost Station will do nicely as a lair. Pixelator: Hey get out of here, I called dibs! Vampire: Oh gods more of them!

Also oof, yeah I imagine a lot of people in unstable or insecure positions will find themselves victims of an untoward Imago, be it as a meal (Horrificator, ETC) or subjects (Darkblade, ETC) & such people would be among the least likely to be noticed missing or heard if they avoided capture too.

Gods ANdre would probably consider that a boon cos he can claim credit for "Ending homelessness in Paris" or something.

[frogonamelon]

To my knowledge, there aren’t any fan-created cities in the Bioshock fandom…. 

Hidden deep in the mountains, a lighthouse stands as a beacon for all who seek the catacombs of Elysium. 

Hello! I see that the mysterious hook has caught your attention! I’ve had an idea for a fan-created bioshock city for a while and would like to share the inklings and my thought process for a while. 

If you’d like to, I’d love critique, feedback, etc on the ideas here. 

While we know that there is always a man and a lighthouse, there were other categories I wanted to fulfill when creating this city and what I have for each:

A Man

As well as other interesting and important characters

Hook before a lighthouse- introduce the character.

Vaguely mid to young 20s, possibly a community college student, either likes urban exploration/ found footage content or is a hiker (possibly both)- something that would get him involved. 

A Lighthouse

Nestled deep in the mountains, along a small pond and surrounded by ancient trees is a mysterious lighthouse that once stood as a beacon of hope but has not been seen in hundreds of years. 

A City

The rise and fall of this civilization.

Elysium is a city underground in the southern Sierra Nevada range, roughly central to southern California. 

The aesthetic of this one is inspired by underground cities found in Turkey, Etruscan tombs, and the Parisian catacombs. 

Aesthetically, Rapture is cold and dark, Columbia is warm and bright, Polaris seems like it's going to be cold and bright. Elysium is warm and dark with materials like warm tuff, terra cotta, that sort of thing. Everything isn’t far off of being sepia toned, like aged paper.

A Time Period 

Neither the golden age of the city nor game setting are modern day

The Golden Age: 1780s or so, Game Setting: roughly 2008-2014- the furthest back in time and closest to modern

A group of people unhappy with the newborn America leaves and finds a new home westward. 

The architecture of the city is closely tied to some sort of inspiration from American history.

Neoclassical Architecture (all of the original government buildings and monuments in DC and such as well as historical homes like Monticello)

An Ideology 

Showing the flaws of the ideology it was based on.

Everything connects to it.

There's some sort of critique of America and humanity.

This one would be centered on the Ancient Roman ideals that America pulled inspiration from. 

Another main theme would be the value that people put in the past and the romanticizing and glorification of time periods long gone. 

An Adam/ Lutece Particles parallel

Something similar to vigors and plasmids created from this parallel

Mutation/ mutated people caused by this.

The founders of this city settle here because they find a fruit/ berry that, when consumed, grants them immortality (although twisted). When the fruit is turned to wine with various additives, it gives them remarkable powers. 

This is a reference to both the way that wine and intoxication was seen as divine and in the whole ‘eating the fruit of the dead’ sort of thing. 

Some effects/ consequences of this process are being able to mold the self like clay to fit perfect mathematical beauty found in sculptures. Some are fused to the very walls of the caves as their world decays and they become an archeological dig in and of themselves, still alive but…

[the-delta-42]

Battle Cry

Battle Cry

“Are we seriously having this conversation?” Demanded Alya, glaring at Nino. The rest of the Miraculous team watched the two argue, while Adrien scowled at his arms.

“She failed to stop Monarch, lied to us about his identity and lied to Adrien and told him his dad was a hero!” Snapped Nino, “She’s done nothing but lie, she’s no better than Lila or Monarch!”

“Felix and Kagami knew, are they no better than them or are they exempt from that view?” Retorted Alya, as her miraculous warmed against her skin, “She doesn’t call out for help often, if she’s doing it now, it’s serious!”

“Felix and Kagami didn’t have a choice, she did!” Yelled Nino, getting an eye roll from Alya.

“Fine, whatever,” Huffed Alya, turning away, “I’m going to Ladybug, you can…do whatever.”

Alya stalked away, with Luka and Zoe following her. Three flashes of light told the group that the three had transformed and gone to Ladybug.

Nino huffed through his nose and turned around, looking at Adrien, “Sorry you had to see that, bud.”

Adrien stayed silent, tracing invisible patterns on the table.

“Adrien, are you okay?” Asked Marc, getting a shrug from Adrien.

“Do you think I over-reacted?” Adrien’s voice was quiet, but everyone heard him.

“No-” Nino was interrupted by Kagami, “Yes.”

Everyone looked at Kagami, “Marinette only found out about Monarch’s identity an hour or two before we left, but she acted alone while everyone else was affected by the Akuma. I’d known for a couple of months before telling Marinette.”

Everyone’s Miraculous suddenly became hot, before rapidly cooling.

“W-what was that?” Asked Adrien, as Plagg appeared in front of him.

“Something’s happened.”

BC

Rena, Viperion and Vesperia leaped and bounded over the rooftops of Paris, all racing towards the Louvre, they could see Ladybug fighting with someone with what looked like to be a dog’s head. It looked like the dog-headed person was winning.

Rena leapt into the air, launching herself feet first into the person’s head. It looked like a man. He grunted, as Rena kicked him into Viperion’s fist and Vesperia’s foot. Ladybug was breathing heavily, as Rena turned to her.

“Are you alright?” Asked Rena, frantically checking Ladybug over.

Ladybug looked down and Rena almost screamed at the sight of the knife in her side.

“We need to get you to a hospital.” Said Rena, trying to pull Ladybug to her feet.

“We need to help the Akuma victim.” Wheezed Ladybug, letting out a cough.

“Mari, if we don’t get you to a hospital, you could die.” Begged Rena, her throat getting tight.

“It won’t be a big loss,” Shrugged Ladybug, “the team wouldn’t care.”

“I would.” Rena’s voice broke, making Ladybug look up.

Ladybug’s eyes widened, before she shoved Rena out of the way, half-a-second later, a khopesh was embedded in her chest. Ladybug looked down, as Rena looked up at her and screamed, before Ladybug let out a final breath, closed her eyes and fell forwards.

Rena stared, horrified, at the blade of the khopesh sticking out of Ladybug’s back. The blade dissolved into dust, reforming in the person’s hand. With a swing of his arm, Viperion and Vesperia were knocked down, and the person rushed to Ladybug’s body and picked it up.

“Ffffindersss keeepeerss.” Wheezed the person, before vanishing in a plume of smoke, taking Ladybug’s body with him.

Rena stared at the spot where the man had vanished, oblivious to Chat Noir and the rest of the Miraculous Team arriving on the roof top.

BC

Ladybug’s body hit the floor of Hawkmoth’s lair in the Parisian Catacombs, making Hawkmoth look at the man.

“I thought you said you needed her alive.” Said Hawkmoth, as the man stared at the corpse.

When she didn’t receive a response, Hawkmoth sauntered over to Ladybug’s body and delivered a kick to its side. Within a moment, the man had grabbed Hawkmoth by the throat, and slammed her into the wall.

“That…was unwise.” Growled the man, glaring at Hawkmoth, “I’d hate to have to find a new use for you.”

Hawkmoth sneered, “Let me down, Anubis.”

Anubis sneered back, before dropping Hawkmoth, he didn’t care for her name and he didn’t care for her motives.

“I never said I needed her alive, I just need her Miraculous, having her bones is a bonus.” Said Anubis, drawing an Ankh on Ladybug’s forehead with her own blood, “It means I won’t have to wait to acclimatise to it.”

The Ankh faded, as Ladybug’s suit became dark red with blood red spots. The body convulsed, before Ladybug’s body jumped to its feet, glassy eyes were narrowed into a glare as the body snarled and tried to launch itself at Anubis.

“Hmm, it’s not strong enough to fight its former comrades.” Mused Anubis, before looking at Hawkmoth, “I guess you’ll have to do.”

Deadbug’s head snapped to Hawkmoth, before releasing a horrifying scream and charging at Hawkmoth. Within moments, the zombified heroine had launched itself across the room, before tearing in Hawkmoth as it devoured her.

Anubis laughed as Hawkmoth screamed.

BC

Deadbug clambered around the sewers, growling and groaning as it moved, grabbing rats and tearing into them. Anubis stood over a whimpering Hawkmoth, smirking as she tried to clean up the bite marks.

“Contrary too popular belief,” Said Anubis, “my dead don’t turn people by biting them, mine just eat what they need and leave, like leeches.”

Anubis crouched down and whispered, “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Bug!” Called Anubis, making Deadbug to stop, “Come!”

The monster growled, before prowling towards him, leaving Hawkmoth in a pool of her own blood.

“You can make yourself useful by sending out an Akuma to lure the others out.” Dismissed Anubis, before leaving with the monster.

BC

“What do you mean you can’t?!” Demanded Alya, glaring at Alix, “You said Marinette wasn’t supposed to die, so why can’t you prevent this?!”

“Als,” Said Nino, gently touching Alya’s arm, “it’s okay.”

Alya gave Nino a withering look, he saw anger in her eyes, coupled with grief, but if Alya was going to say anything she decided not to, as she huffed through her nose and stalked away.

Nino went to say something, when everyone’s phones went off with an Akuma Alert. Quickly glancing at it, Nino quietly groaned, someone had been Akumatized over Marinette’s, Ladybug’s, death. Luka had told them what Marinette’s last words were and, while there was still the slight division over Monarch, everyone was shocked at what Marinette had thought.

Nino glanced over at Adrien, who hadn’t said anything since they saw Marinette dissolve into dust, before deciding to get anyone other than Adrien, and the three that had been with Marinette, to deal with it.

“There’s an Akuma.” Said Nino, getting anyone’s attention, “Who wants to deal with it?”

“How?” Asked Nathaniel, “Only Marinette could fix things and she’s dead.”

Nino winced, before Kagami got up, “I’ll take some people.”

Nino smiled, before Kagami, Félix, Sabrina and Ivan left to deal with the Akuma.

Fifteen minutes later, Nino found himself with the rest of the team as they fought off the Akuma, which turned out to be Marinette’s reanimated remains. The Dog-headed person from before was at a distance, commanding Marinette’s body. They’d started referring to it as Deadbug, as if to rub in the fact Marinette was dead.

With an inhuman scream, Deadbug would launch herself at various members of the team, while it may be Marinette’s body, it didn’t have her skills or intelligence. Pegasus had mentioned that it was a good thing, citing the number of times Marinette had beaten him at chess.

‘Dog-head’ obviously didn’t like how poorly Deadbug was doing, decided to change tactics. A moment later, an Akuma flew into the gaping chest wound on Deadbug’s body. The wound sealed up and Deadbug started hacking up strange, fleshy-looking clumps. Deadbug stopped hacking and breathed in, raising her head, her eyes, which had been a reddish black, were now purple. A sneer appeared on her face. With a scream, she detached the yoyo on her hip and turned it into a staff.

The staff connected with Carapace’s shield and Viperion’s lute, cracking the former and shattering the latter.

“Pathetic.” Snarled Darkbug, as she grabbed Viperion’s throat.

A Black blur zoomed past Carapace and tackled Darkbug. Viperion gasped as Chat Noir and Darkbug vanished down into a sewer.

Chat desperately tried to get Ladybug to snap out of whatever Hawkmoth had done to her. The usual bright red suit was dark and the spots blurring into the red, her eyes were purple, and her face was curled into a snarl.

“M’Lady, please, it’s me.” Pleaded Chat, as Darkbug stalked towards him.

“Stop calling me that!” Snarled Darkbug, conjuring a sword out of thin air and swinging it at Chat, “She’s gone, pest!”

Chat managed to knock the sword away, before she punched him with enough force to send him through the ceiling, the road on top of it and into the roof of a building. Chat groaned as he rolled onto his side.

“Dude!” Yelled Carapace, rushing towards him, “Are you alright?”

Darkbug landed on the rooftop, Chat scrambled away from her, with Darkbug striking the roof where he’d been moments before. Darkbug screamed and continued to strike at him. Each blow missing by a hair. Darkbug threw her sword, embedding into the roof a short way away from Chat. Darkbug went to punch Chat, only for Chat to grab her fist.

“Marinette, please,” Begged Chat, “it’s me, it’s Adrien.”

Darkbug looked confused, before standing up, her eyes flickering between purple and blue, before finally settling on blue. Her suit brightened and her spots became black.

“Adrien?” Murmured Ladybug, before swaying slightly.

Chat grinned, before Ladybug froze. The Khopesh that would’ve embedded itself into Ladybug’s back was blocked by a green shield.

“Where’s the Akuma?” Asked Carapace, as Ladybug shook her head.

“There,” Ladybug coughed, “There isn’t one. He’s using a miraculous.”

“Okay.” Nodded Ryuko, landing next to Ladybug, “Where is it?”

“The choker, it kind of looks like a dog collar.” Groaned Ladybug, “Oh, I’m gonna throw up.”

Ryuko blinked, before she looked at Rena, “get her out of here.”

Rena nodded, before vaulting off with Ladybug. Ryuko turned and looked at the Miraculous user, “Anyone have an idea how we’re supposed to beat this guy?”

BC

Marinette threw up as soon as she dropped her transformation. Alya dropped hers and looked at Marinette.

“You okay, girl?” Asked Alya, as Marinette continued to throw up.

“Gimmie a minute.” Heaved Marinette, as she spat out some bile, “Okay, let’s get back there.”

“What?” Asked Alya, “No, you’ve got a chest wound and we don’t know how things are going to go if you go back there.”

“I have a plan.” Protested Marinette, before resting against the wall, “give me a minute.”

A soft thud had Alya recalling her transformation and swinging her flute at the source of the noise. Su Han stared at her, before looking at Marinette, “How did Anubis escape?”

Marinette shrugged, before trying to straighten up, only to collapse back against the wall, “This is starting to become a problem.”

Su Han frowned, before looking at Alya, “Where’s the Akuma?”

“In her chest, it’s the only thing keeping her sane.”

“Has she tried healing?”

“No, it’s still in her chest.”

“The Akuma’s already been purified, as soon as she casts the cure it’ll no longer need to keep her alive.” Said Su Han, as Marinette winced.

“Tikki,” Rasped Marinette, making the weaken Kwami look up, “Spots On.”

Ladybug slowly got to her feet, she coughed out, “L-lucky c-ch-charm.”

A red and black spotted first aid kit hit the floor. Rena quickly grabbed it and passed it to Ladybug.

“Mmmm, miiiraaculoouss,” Wheezed Ladybug, “L-laadeeeeeebuugg.”

A swarm of ladybugs swarmed over the city, repairing the damage done by Ladybug and Anubis’ initial battle and the fight between Chat Noir and Darkbug. The swarm suddenly slammed into Ladybug’s chest. Coughing up some blood, Ladybug fell down onto one knee.

The swarm vanished, leaving a heaving Ladybug covering her mouth with her hand. After one forceful cough, a single white butterfly fell onto her hand. The Butterfly shook off the bile covering it and flew off.

“Bye-bye, little butterfly.” Murmured Ladybug, before getting up, “I conjured a sword, where is it?”

“It should still be on the roof.” Answered Rena, looking at Ladybug, “girl, no offense, but your last fight with that guy left you covered in cuts.”

“Have you used the shielding feature?” Asked Su Han, getting Ladybug and Rena’s attention, “You just need to say the Kwami’s name and guard up.”

Ladybug and Rena looked at each other.

“Okay.” Sighed Ladybug, “Tikki, Guard Up!”

Red and black spotted plate armour formed on her feet, legs, hands and forearms, while similarly coloured padded chain mail formed on her chest and abdomen. Ladybug looked down at herself, “Wow.”

BC

The team kept moving around Anubis, they didn’t stay in one place for two long, so the dark miraculous user couldn’t land any serious hits on them. Pigella suddenly tripped and fell to the ground.

Anubis gave a sneering grin and licked his lips, “Finally.”

He threw a khopesh towards her, Pigella closed her eyes and waited for the blade to hit her. The sound of metal hitting metal made her look up. A broadsword had batted the khopesh toward the ground. An armoured Ladybug and Rena Rouge stood in front of her.

Ladybug spun the sword in her hand, before she leapt towards Anubis. Rena drew two daggers and followed Ladybug’s lead. With Anubis suddenly on the backfoot, the team converged on him, with Purple Tigress grabbing the Jackal choker and yanked it off Anubis.

The man screamed as she dissolved into a pile of bones. Ladybug prodded his remains with the tip of her sword.

“Tikki, Guard Down.” Said Ladybug, after a moment.

Ladybug sighed and looked around, “Is anyone else hungry?”

Nino absently nodded, “Yeah. I think I saw Andre while we were fighting.”

“Good. Cool.” Muttered Ladybug, relaxing, “Let’s…let’s get some ice cream.”

The team started leaving, as King Monkey asked, “So, what’s it like being dead?”

“Surprisingly quiet.”

[arsenic-io]

I did a fanfiction about the Olympic torchbearer and (technically) the flag bearer. I don't really... remember writing this tbh, it was written in about 45 mins total between me posting my art and falling asleep so have some consideration for the quality lmao.

I've shared the text below, but it's probably easier to read on AO3 - if you do read it there let me know what you think <3

Freefall

(Idk why Cape is always capitalised, my phone does that apparently)

There is always something exhilarating about falling. The rush of air past you, the tug at your senses as your every inch screams that this is wrong and dangerous and horrible. The only hope you have is your faith in your ability to eye up an angle accurately, to jump with that angle in mind and to have enough of your brain still under your own control as you hit the ground to remember to roll.

As someone (something? They're not sure anymore) who spends so much of their time in the catacombs of Paris by necessity, the open air and free fall that comes with traversing the rooftops is as close to drugs as the Phantom can get these days. Whether that is because buying drugs is more difficult when you're part ghost, part concept, all incorporeal, or because drugs would no longer work on them is irrelevant. What is relevant is The Flag-bearer whose ghostly horse has come to a standstill at the edge of the rooftop they just leapt from.

She has an air of disapproval as she looks down at them, and although they don't really have eyes, or a mouth, or a face anymore, the Phantom tries their best to convey a smirk. It seems to work, as her horse huffs a snort in lieu of an eye roll and she tugs on the reins to take a step back.

Honestly, the Phantom doesn't know why the horse doesn't jump down after them, it's as ghostly and magic and not-a-living-horse as the Phantom themselves and that distance of a jump would be enough for even a bold human to make, but regardless the Horsewoman will make her own, alternative way down to find the Phantom again so they should probably take advantage of their headstart.

The reason they are being chased is because of a prank gone, well, exactly to plan.

The ceremony begins tomorrow and the city is up to its decapitated neck in preparations as the river becomes the focus of months of planning and practice and so, so much money. Some of the more quiet spirits, the Hunchback and such, have stayed away from the hullabaloo, but with all of the faff about the waterways (one of Phantom's favourite things about the city) and the added nuisance of a camera crew in their usual haunt, they had come out of seclusion to see what the fuss was about. And then ran directly, physically into the Horsewoman. Or well, her horse.

It makes an impression on a recluse, to see someone so damn shiny and bold in the Parisian sunlight, and almost like a particularly dumb pigeon the Phantom just... couldn't help themselves.

Therefore the prank: Grand Theft Cape.

Therefore² the being chased down by the owner of said Cape.

Their first plan was ingenious. They were going to simply snatch the cape while The Flag-bearer was occupied observing the preparations and then dissappear only slightly mockingly into the waterways of the catacombs on their boat. This plan was almost immediately foiled by the realisation that the horse could apparently run on water, but the simplicity of it was nice.

See, being a recluse who lives underground limits the Phantom's knowledge of their fellow spirits quite severely, and this knowledge is especially lacking when it comes to the more niche of spirits, such as those only really around for specific events or a limited time, such as The Flag-bearer. All the Phantom knew was that she was militant, horse riding and beautiful, the rest was... to be determined.

Knowing what they do now, the Phantom would have adjusted the original plan somewhat, but hindsight and all that.

Keeping their footsteps light, the Phantom moves almost back the way they came, trying to gain height while adjusting to the sensation of wearing a cape on their back. Although their normal attire is certainly flowy, the swish of movement brought by the stolen fabric is odd and difficult to adjust to.

One annoying thing about ghost horses is that apparently they don't make any noise.

The Phantom is reduced purely to sight to track their pursuer and so high ground is invaluable. There isn't exactly a plan beyond 'evade' right now, although they hope to fix that as they are evading maybe they'll hide the Cape on an inconveniently high tower or something, let it billow mockingly in the wind. That would get The Flag-bearer's attention.

Not that they don't have her attention currently, they chide themselves as they see the flicker of white and silver move on the streets below. They might have a little to much of her attention actually.

Paris is a big city, with rooftops beffiting that descriptor, so it isn't as if the Phantom is running out of space. But this chase has continued from mid afternoon to sundown now and as incorporeal a concept as they are, something close to fatigue or boredom snags at them as they traverse the skyline.

Something else snags at them as well when they make they next jump, more physical this time as the cape simply... doesn't follow their motion and they swing back, trapped by their momentum, into the side of the building. If they had a body with functioning nerves it would be sore.

They are hanging like a scuffed kitten from their stolen cape as they look up into the bemused and stalwart face of The Flag-bearer. She is still mounted on her horse, bearing the full weight of holding them up with one unstrained arm while the other soothes the ears of her companion.

It seems like she is waiting for them to speak.

"Hello." They begin. She tilts her head.

"Sorry about the, uh," the Phantom wiggles slightly in her hold, "theft."

Her eyes do something which in no way resembles an eye roll, yet somehow serves the same purpose.

"You caught me, so I guess that means you win!" They shift trying to avoid eyecontact despite their lack of eyes. "You win the Cape you already had! So just, uh, set me down and I'll hand it over to you." She tilts her head, this time to the other side.

The Phantom looks at the drop below them and then back up at her trying to convey a sense of 'I won't run I promise' which they don't think convinces her.

She pulls a leaf of paper from... somewhere on her or on the horse and holds it out. The Phantom takes it, realising she might be a mute spirit (which would explain the horse's lack of horse noises) but all the paper reads is this: get the flame to its destination.

"Ah, but I'm not," she shifts her hold on the cape slightly, jostling them a little, "I'm only in the ceremony a little. For dramatic effect. I'm not supposed to touch the torch at all!"

The Flag-bearer hoists them higher, reaches over to unclasp the Cape and then the Phantom is falling through the night air, wind tugging at their hood.

[hekateinhell]

I love how it’s canon that Armand is the chicest, most fashionable of vampires after having spent 300+ dusty ass years in the Parisian catacombs looking like unadulterated shit (beautiful shit nevertheless but you know). He came out the most effortless, stylish mf out of that whole ordeal and it’s either designer stuff or he’s not even looking at it. And he dragged poor Daniel into it goD 😭

Armand and how he expresses himself through his appearance is something I think about a lot and not nearly enough!

I have to believe he went through a bell-bottoms, crop tops, and wearing-Daniel's-band t-shirts phase in the late-70s/early-80s.

I also find it precious how this extends beyond himself to those he loves. Daniel, Louis (remember the slut shirt), and Lestat. Armand is so upset to see him dusty and unkempt on the church floor.

By Armand's logic, I think he considers that if you love someone, you'll never let them appear to be anything but well-groomed and well-cared for. They will look loved.

Which makes it all the more sadder that the Armand we see in the illusion that he projects for Daniel during his turning scene has him in his dusty coven clothes - he doesn't see himself as someone worth looking after. Armand's disheveled appearance is also something Lestat notes in MtD, presumably after Daniel has left him:

He sat on the stone park bench, boylike, casual, with one knee crooked, looking up at me with the predictable innocence, dusty all over, naturally, hair a long, tangled mess of auburn curls.

So, I especially love how Lestat describes him at the very end of Blood Communion, which is also the second-to-last on-screen interaction between two characters in the Chronicles:

I looked at Armand. He was splendidly attired in burgundy velvet, himself once more, his fingers covered with jeweled rings as he clapped along with the others. I could not quite believe the calm, accepting expression on his face, but then he nodded. It was just a small nod, a nod no one else would have noticed, but I saw it and I saw him smile again.

[nitrosodiumfmp]

Media Like Sinister

As part of our initial research, we have to look at books/movies/etc which are thematically similar to our game. I have primarily chosen media concerning trips to the underworld, a genre known as katabasis, a Greek word I believe.

Obviously the most classic example of this would be the Divine Comedy, a 3-part narrative poem concerning a man (Dante) and his trip through Purgatory, Hell and Heaven. It's an interesting look at the medieval view of the afterlife, and has proved very inspirational for various games (see ULTRAKILL). However, beyond basic theme, it's not too relevant.

Searching for "movies where people go into the underworld" mostly gives you films related to a 'downward spiral' story motif, i.e. a character's fall from grace, or their descent into a criminal underworld, in the more metaphorical sense. Once more, it's not very relevant. Most of my inspiration has come from other games, after all.

The closest movie I can think of to my concept is As Above, So Below. In it, some explorers go into the Parisian catacombs to look for the philosopher's stone, and end up in hell, which is filled with ghost manifestations of their guilt and cave demons, naturally. It does mirror a lot of themes with Sinister, i.e. greed, illusion, death, mythology, and its environments are mostly catacombs, with skulls, flaming torches and cobwebs adorning every wall - very in line with some of my original ideas. It's still not a one-to-one replication, and it's not something I'm taking any inspiration from whatsoever.

What I am taking inspiration from, however, is the Greek myth of Sisyphus. In pop culture, he's mostly known as the man forced to roll a boulder up a hill for eternity, but there is more to his myth. In life, he was a devious and cunning king; on one occasion in specific, he had betrayed the word of Zeus, and so the god sent Thanatos (death) to chain him up in the underworld. Sisyphus took this as an opportunity, tricking Thanatos into demonstrating the chains on himself, at which point he restrained Death and escaped. This, of course, meant that nobody could die anymore, further interfering with the natural order. Once Thanatos was once again unfettered, Sisyphus was caught and punished for his hubris. For thinking that he could outwit the gods, he was sent to Tartarus, where the rock-pushing visual of him comes from. The idea of death just not working is a very primally strange idea - the distinction between life and death is the most basic requirement for a living being to, well, be living. In most forms of media - books, movies, et cetera, once a character dies, they're dead. Video games are the outlier, where you can respawn over and over, even changing the past and future with multiple savegames. Most games don't address this, but I want to in Sinister. You keep coming back because you're in the afterlife already - there's some interesting philosophical discussion that could be had there too, i.e. where does a ghost go when it dies?

I have a good feeling about this project. It's very layered and interesting.

[thelonelyreaderr]

Death in the catacombs

When most people think of birthday celebrations they think of parties, maybe at home, maybe at a fancy restaurant, a picnic, the movies, or somewhere lively and warm. Not many people think of celebrating birthdays in the Parisian Catacombs, but there was where Calix Matthews was going to celebrate his 19th birthday. Was it a good idea? Not at all! But there was no stopping Calix once he had set his mind to things. Standing outside the door he felt as if nothing bad could happen after sleeping in the catacombs and staying there overnight. A perfect plan where nothing could go wrong at all. By me saying that of course, something is going to go wrong, now you see Calix wasn’t alone. Had he watched the news over the past couple of days he could have seen a warning about a serial killer going around, a killer who liked dark places, a killer who liked to kill young men, a killer who hunted when everyone was asleep, a killer who was going to kill Calix. After entering the Catacombs Calix started to walk around trying to find a good place to put his sleeping bag. He eventually found a nice corner to put his sleeping bag in, it was even deep inside the combs so he would get the full experience. After setting up shop he continued to walk around and explore making sure to take plenty of pictures and videos. It may have seemed fun in the beginning but Calix would soon realize he had left his power bank at home. Once his phone’s battery died he wouldn’t be able to contact anyone- and it would take a good long time for people to come down and help him if he got into trouble.But trouble he was going to get into, he never once thought that there was someone else with him so he felt perfectly safe taking a nap in the middle of the hall. Although the killer did find him resting he was more amused as to how carefree the young man was, wanting to toy with his prey a bit he passed over Calix without doing too much mange. Just a few small cuts on his face and a couple of locks of his hair were cut. It amazed the killer just how much of a deep sleeper Calix was but not wanting to push his luck he left as quickly as he came setting his sights on where Calix had put his sleeping bag and travel bag. Rummaging around his victim's belongings where what the killer thought was the fun part. He could make up a picture in his head of how they lived and what their hobbies were, Calix for example was unprepared with only a bag of Doritos, two granola bars, and a bottle of water for food. He hadn’t brought any change of clothes or toiletries he had found a small box cutter in the bag's front pocket, a wicked smile crept its way into his face as he turned to where Calix was. Only Calix was standing in front of him, his eyes widened as he saw the unfamiliar man crouched over his things. Before the killer could get another word out Calix started sprinting the other way, the killer arose and started to stretch- after all, predators always stretch before a hunt.

------ Haha, I lied you get 2 posts today (Let's be honest its only Bailey and maybe Lad reading this) I'll prob write some more shit stories to try to get better at this tbh :3

[vanitatum-mori]

A VNC writing blog?? Wowwww!! May I request Roland Fortis having a crush on a female reader? You have the right to decline this request! Make sure you drink a lot of water today!

I'm not saying that Roland is my favorite character BUT he totally is my favorite character. Thank your for the request and I hope you enjoy! (And also I wrote this assuming the reader is a human)

~Roland with a crush on a fem!reader~

Roland with a crush on someone would act like he does with everyone else he is on good terms with, the only difference is that he would do so with a bit more ✨gusto✨.

If you're a chasseur too, then conversations with you would be plenty. He'd seek you out on every occasion that he can, checking the catacomb's tunnels and meeting spaces you seem to frequent the most, hoping to meet you, even if it is to only get a few words in before someone (most likely Olivier) comes to drag him away to his chasseur duty.

If you're a normal civilian, then he'd make sure to drop by at your workplace when he's on patrol or on a free day out. Even then, these won't be that frequent since his duty to the church has to come first and his free time is pretty limited.

Chasseur or not, every conversation would be filled with smiles and compliments nonetheless, adding the casual touch on the arm or back here and there. But only as long as he doesn't sense that you're uncomfortable with what he's doing. Otherwise he'd stop immediately.

Roland is really perceptive, especially more so when it comes to his crush, so when he notices that you seem down, he'd either try to subtly slip in some funny remarks to cheer you up, or he'd straight up ask you what's wrong when he is sure  no one else is around. No matter what's wrong, he makes sure to properly think about it and provide you with an idea or solution. Even though they often seem to be way too straightforward for your taste, you appreciate the effort and willingness to help.

But don't be mistaken, even though he seems goofy and airheaded most of the time, when the situation calls for it he will do a 180 degree turnaround and become quite serious. Especially when he senses that your problems seem to be part of something bigger or, dare he say, dangerous, he will not hesitate to insert himself into the sitution in an attempt to take care of it, for your safety and his peace of mind.

When he's free, he likes to invite you out for a day in Paris. He'd prefer to do something outside because he rarely is able to truly enjoy the sun since he spends most of his time underground in the chasseur quarters or on missions where there is no time to carelessly enjoy the weather.

He is a big fan of piloting aircrafts so he can't imagine something more romantic and thrilling than flying over the Parisian rooftops and vast fields around the city.

Other than that the would enjoy a casual stroll around the neighborhood with you, but be aware that, should you not have at least a decent sense of orientation, you will get lost easily and probably not reach the destination you initialy intended.

Roland doesn't mind getting lost with you though, since he has an excuse to spend more time with you (lol). On these strolls you guys talk about nearly anything (except church related things should you not be a chasseur) and he will even tell you a few stories about his family, about Olivier even but you have to swear to never tell on him or else Roland will be in for a lot of yelling.

Will buy you little trinkets that remind him of you he saw in passing somewhere while wandering around. Like a little flower clip for your hair or a bookmark since you once mentioned how you seem to always lose them.

Will talk about you to Olivier. Not like full-on fangirling (fanmaning???? Is there a male counterpart idk pls help) but he will make some comments like "(Y/N)'s hair was really pretty today!" or "I think this a lot but earlier I noticed again just how radiant her smile is!"

Olivier will just sit there and listen, maybe grumble a bit. Roland knows it's because his friend thinks it's just a passing fancy the blond has for you but he knows and feels that this is not the case. Not with you. So he will just continue to update the fellow paladin with little things about you, no matter what he wants.

But other than Olivier no one else will know about his crush for you. He can't risk you becoming another target for the church, besides his family, should they decide to punish him for some of his misbehaviors.

Other than that he will be pretty open about his feelings for you should you confront him about them. But he won't confess otherwise without you speaking up about them first, or even confessing yourself! So it's basically up to you if you want to stay friends forever and ever and ever and ever or if you want something more out of the relationship between you two. Your choice!

Thank your for your request! 💚

Link to the masterlist~

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Paris was a warzone.

Shadowmoth's latest plan had torn Paris asunder.

Shadowmoth had once again found a way to utilize his powers in a far more disastrous manner.

Akumatized villains and Sentimonsters laid waste to Paris. The events of heroes day seemed mild in comparison.

The all powerful Scarlet Shadowmoth had put into action his most devastating plan.

Even the guardians that Su Han had called for reinforcements were akumatized and turned into soldiers for the diabolical villain.

However, Ladybug and her chosen heroes were quick to act. Shadowmoth did pull a few new tricks, such as making sure Rena Rouge had to face her akumatized family, including sentimonsters created from emotions resulting from her secrecy. Even Nino was utilized by the evil villain.

But despite all of that, Scarlet Shadowmoth had lost his special powers. And just like before, He stood face to face with ladybug and her partner.

"Its over Shadowmoth, your plan failed." Ladybug exclaimed with confidence. The red clad heroine was sure of herself. It was a tough battle, but Shadowmoth had no where else to go.

"Is that so?" Shadowmoth asked, his expression showing no signs of fear, panic or nervousness. Despite the situation, he was eerily calm.

"Check the math Shadowmoth, You don't have anymore sentimonsters or akuma's left to defend you. Meanwhile, Ladybug and I are up here ready to kick your feathery butt. Even if you try to escape there are dozens of heroes and guardians ready to take you down." The fox heroine next to Ladybug exclaimed.

"I suppose that is a fair point Rena Rouge. But I am not worried in the slightest by either of you or your little hero army." Shadowmoth dismissed.

"It doesn't matter how you feel, because this is the end." Ladybug retorted.

"Im going to enjoy prying those miraculous off of you after what you did to my family." Rena rouge cracked her knuckles, as she got into a fighting stance.

"Before we start, I must commend you Alya. You really adjusted well to being a miraculous user. You perfectly slid into your role as Ladybug's new partner."

The two teens stared at Shadowmoth in confusion. Why was the villain of Paris giving Rena Rouge high regards? It made little sense.

"What are you saying Shadowmoth?" Rena Rouge squinted at the villain, as if trying to peer into his mind to see what he is trying to hide.

"I am simply giving you a compliment. Though I am not surprised that Ladybug would have chosen you to be her new partner. You are far more competent then most. You did discover quite a lot about the miraculous even before she accepted you into the fold." Shadowmoth continued.

"Why do you keep saying new partner?" Ladybug questioned.

Shadowmoth grinned at the comment.

"Simply stating the facts. Why else would she be here at your side instead of someone else."

Ladybug's eyes went wide.

She had been so concerned with everything going on, she didn't even realize it.

Her confusion shifted to rage.

"What did you do to Chat noir?!"

Shadowmoth started to laugh.

"So you finally noticed. I must admit, I had sensed the divide growing between you and Chat noir for sometime, but it wasn't until Rena Rouge became more crucial did I see the true depths of it. His self doubt, his inadequacy, his low self esteem, and of course his jealousy of Rena Rouge. He couldn't exactly tell what was going on but he sure did feel the dynamic shift between you and him." Shadowmoth taunted.

"Answer me Shadowmoth!" Ladybug roared.

She charged at Shadowmoth only to get kicked back.

"I wasn't finished." Shadowmoth hissed. "Let me savor my moment."

Ladybug growled and got up, spinning her yo-yo she continued attacking. Shadowmoth continued to speak as she attacked.

"Though I admit he hid it well, he found a way to suppress those powerful negative emotions, never letting them stay for too long. I could never lock onto them. It was as if he was used to feeling miserable all the time. He likely hid it out of fear that you could replace him. You are the one in charge after all." Shadowmoth continued as he dodged ladybug attacks before kicking her back again.

Rena Rouge jumped in to try and fight with Ladybug but her attacks were equally as fruitless.

"So I needed something to push him over the edge. So a special sentimonster was created, one to trap him in the catacombs of Paris. Stuck in an ever shifting living maze. Yet he could see everything that was happening above. He could see the city being attacked, he could see you fighting and he could see how 'Perfectly' you saved the day without him."

Ladybug and Rena Rouge stopped attacking.

"Wait... you are making it sound like all of this was..."

"Exactly how I planned it. And the akuma I had in my staff which you broke and flung off the the tower minutes ago had made contact, but he has been fighting it for sometime, he is quite stubborn. "

A bluish purple outline appears over Shadowmoth's mask.

"Well that was perfect timing."

"No..." Ladybug muttered in horror.

" Chat Blanc! I give you the power of infinite destruction, to destroy anything and everything that causes you pain. In exchange, you will bring me Ladybug's miraculous."

It was quiet after Shadowmoth finished his speech. It was as if the world had stopped. But that silence was short-lived. A blast of white light bursted from beneath the city, creating a pillar of light into the Parisian sky.

A white figure jumped out of the creator once the light pillar had dissipated.

He started rushing to the well known French monument.

The guardians on the ground tried to stop him, but it was no use, he charged through like they were nothing more than insects against a windshield.

He used his staff and arrived on the floor the heroes and shadow moth were standing on.

"Excellent timing Chat Blanc."

Rena Rouge looked at the Cat as it stood there, next to Shadowmoth, silently watching them, expressionless.

"Ladybug we might need a lucky charm here" Rena Rouge said while not looking away from the cat.

"It happened again..." Ladybug muttered in horror. Her scars from her previous encounter with chat blanc had not faded. She still had vivid nightmares of the akuma cat. And right now, that nightmare was very much alive.

"Now Chat Blanc. Take the miraculous!"

"I shall."

Shadowmoth Laughed only to suddenly de-transform into Gabriel Agreste, right in front of the two heroes.

Chat Blanc had snatched both miraculous from him, and was looking at the villain with sharp eyes.

Rena Rouge's jaw dropped.

"Chat Blanc! How dare you disobey me! I am your..."

"You are nothing..."

Chat blanc cataclysmed the man before he finished his sentence.

"... but a failure of a father."

He turned his attention to Ladybug and Rena Rouge.

"Wow... that was excessive... But no worries. Just pass ladybug the akumatized item and we can undo all the damage done today." Rena Rouge said as she composed herself.

Chat Blanc raised his hand in the air.

"Cataclysm."

A ball of white light formed in his palm and began growing.

Ladybug snapped back to reality as the gravity of the situation became real.

"Chaton stop! You can't destroy everything! This isn't you!"

"Destroy Akuma Charms" He spoke

little balls of energy bursted out from the large cataclysm. The tiny energy balls located and destroyed every anti akuma charm Ladybug had ever created.

After that task was finished. Chat blanc lowered his hand, and a Cheshire grin appeared on his face.

"So I finally have your attention."

_____________________________________________________________

(Based a bit off this post)

[mochegato]

Calling Dibs

This day was going to be boring, Jason knew that before he agreed to the trip in the first place.  ‘Agreed’ is a generous term.  ‘Relented’ might be a better term. Regardless, he was in Paris for the next week.  He was looking forward to the Louvre and seeing Notre Dame, but he was expected to spend time with his family for a large part of the trip and end with a branch opening party, because those are always so much fun.

He had barely plopped onto the hotel couch when something went flying past the building, crashing into the building down the street in a cacophony of shattered glass and warped metal.  “Holy shit!” Jason yelled, jumping up and running to the window to assess the situation.  The family looked to each other to see if anyone had a better grasp of the situation. Everyone shared the same confounded expression, before running out on the balcony to check out the situation.  

Bruce sighed.  This was most definitely not part of the plans.  This was supposed to be a relaxing week with the family looking at art for Damian, going up in the Eiffel Tower (and preventing him from jumping off) for Duke, sampling French foods and checking out French fashion for Steph, exploring the catacombs for Tim, attending the ballet for Cass, visiting Notre Dame for Jason, and time together as a family for Dick, with just a side of meetings for him.  Superheroing was not one of the scheduled activities.

Bruce opened his mouth to state a plan, but before the words made it past his lips, blurs of red and black swung past them toward the creature that had destroyed the building.  It took more than a few minutes for him to finally close his mouth in a resolute line as they watched the two heroes fight.  Jason’s mouth stayed open in awe as he watched the red figure expertly dodge and strike the creature.  It stayed open until the creature backhanded the red hero into a wall of the building across the street.  

The group flinched in sympathy at the sight, all too familiar with the feeling of getting smashed into a building.  She fell to the ground in a crouch.  Instead of fear, she looked back up with a glare. She jumped away and landed next to her partner in black and seemed to have a conversation before separating. The black hero distracted the creature while she swung further away.  It almost seemed like she had run away until they saw her charge at the creature from the side, hitting circles that decorated its body, shattering them like mirrors as she went.  With each hit the creature seemed to deflate more, until she hit the last one, a black butterfly emerging from it.  

She captured it in her yoyo and released it almost instantly as a white butterfly.  She called something out and threw her yoyo up into the air.  As soon as she did, a pinkish red wave rushed across the city and suddenly all the damage they had watched with their own eyes, was reset to its previous condition.  

They stared, mouths agape again, trying to take in everything they saw.  Finally the silence was broken by Jason.  “I call dibs!”

“What!” Dick exclaimed.  “You can’t just call dibs on someone.”

“I just did,” Jason scoffed.  “I call dibs on the red badass.  You can have the cat one.  Follow B’s footsteps, protégé.”

“You don’t even know if she’s straight.  What if she’s into girls?” Stephanie objected. “Maybe they both are.”

Jason stared at her for a second before his eyes narrowed.  “Fine. But if she’s anything other than a lesbian or ace, I have dibs.  And the cat one is up for grabs.”

“Oh, I’ll grab,” Steph smirked.

“Fine, whatever,” Dick groused, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away.  “Wasn’t looking for romance this trip anyway.”

“Your libido is not the priority right now. Father, did you bring us here for this?” Damian demanded.

Bruce kept his eyes on the spot where the creature had been a few seconds earlier before turning into a distraught woman. “No, I had no idea.  But now that we know, let’s investigate.  We’ll find out as much as we can from outside sources and try to meet up with the heroes when we can.  If they have a regular patrol, we can try to meet them somewhere. If they don’t, we might have to try to show up discretely at the next attack.”  He observed the people below already returning to their normal jobs. “It doesn’t seem like this is too out of the ordinary for everyone, so I don’t think we’ll have to wait long.”

He wasn’t wrong.  In fact, they only had to wait until the next night for another akuma to strike.  As soon as the akuma was dealt with, they caught up with the Parisian heroes, though in hindsight, they perhaps should have announced their presence a bit more clearly, judging by the way Red Hood was hanging upside down off the side of the building they were on.

“Sorry again,” Ladybug grimaced as she helped pull him back onto the roof.

“No, we shouldn’t have snuck up on you,” Red Hood assured her.  “I was just struck too speechless by you to give you a better warning.”

Ladybug blinked at him a few times before turning to the rest of the group and motioning toward Red Hood helplessly. Chat gave her an amused smile. “She tends to have that effect even on the best of us.”

“As Red Hood said, we should have announced our presence more plainly.  We likely would have reacted the same if you had snuck up on one of us,” Batman said, taking a step forward.

“We just wouldn’t have looked as kick ass doing it,” Red Hood added, leaning toward Ladybug.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow at him, but allowed him to move closer to her.  “Well, you certainly didn’t look ‘kick ass’ falling like that,” she smirked at him.

“I’ll work on how I look when falling, then.  I have a feeling I’m going to be falling a lot for you.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes at him and puckered her lips in an unsuccessful effort to keep them from quirking up.  Red Hood’s chest puffed up almost imperceptibly at the sight.  Ladybug’s eyes darted over to Batman and back to him.  “First, I don’t think you came all the way to Paris just to hit on me.  I believe we have other things to talk about. Second, if you’re going to hit on someone, take off the helmet.  It’s rude. I can’t read your expressions at all. It puts me at a disadvantage.”

Red Hood quirked his head to the side. “Can’t take the helmet off. Secret identity, you know?  B would kill me.  If he didn’t the squirt there,” he motioned toward Robin, “would try. But trust me, if you saw my face, you’d swoon.  And I assure you, I would have come all the way to Paris if I’d known you were here waiting.”

“But we didn’t know you were here,” Batman cut in harshly.  He placed a hand on Red Hood’s shoulder and pulled him back with the others.  “We were unaware there was a supervillain in Paris. We’d like to offer assistance, ours and the Justice League’s, but first we should introduce ourselves.  I’m Batman.  That’s Spoiler, Black Bat, Signal, Robin, Red Robin, Nightwing,” he motioned to each of them in turn as he said their name.  “And you’ve met Red Hood.”

Ladybug and Chat nodded to each of them as Batman said their names.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you all.  I’m Ladybug. This is my partner Chat Noir.”

“Sorry, we didn’t bring our full team.  We would have if we’d known there was going to be a party,” Chat smiled disarmingly.

“We’ll be sure to let you know next time,” Spoiler grinned back at him.

“Can we sit down with you sometime to discuss the situation?” Red Robin interrupted whatever Chat was about to respond with. “It doesn’t have to be tonight, but we weren’t planning on staying in town too much longer.  Not that we haven’t been enjoying our time here.  And we’ve definitely enjoyed watching you work. You have got some really good moves.”

“Oi,” Jason interrupted, smacking him in the shoulder.  “I called dibs.”

“Dibs?” Ladybug quirked her head to the side and scrunched up her nose in such an adorable way Jason let out an almost inaudible choke.  Quiet enough that only Red Robin, letting out an almost as silent scoff, and Chat Noir, with his enhanced hearing, heard him.  Chat zeroed in on him with a knowing smirk.  He rested his arm on his baton and got into a comfortable position leaning against it, waiting for the entertainment.  “What is ‘dibs’?” Ladybug continued, oblivious to the dynamic between the three.

Chat’s smirk grew.  “Dibs, M’lady, is when you claim first rights to do something.”

Ladybug stared at him for a few seconds as she put together what he was implying.  Her head whipped around to Red Hood.  Her face was furrowed in an offended scowl.  She pointed to herself.  “Am I the thing you’re going to do first?”

Jason jerked back at the suggestion as Chat Noir and the rest of his family, sans Batman and Robin, started laughing.  “No! No, no, no.  No. Not… No.”  He waved his arms desperately.  “Not that.  I…”  He took a breath and glared at his family to get them to shut up, expecting them to know he was glaring harshly under his helmet.  “I just get to be the first to try to impress you.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes.  “You want to impress me?  Do something impressive.  And I don’t date as a superhero, so you’re going to have to impress civilian me. Good luck with that.”

Chat gave Red Hood a patronizing grin.  “You’re going to need it,” he singsonged.  He looked back and forth between Ladybug and Red Hood a few times, his eyes sparkling with mischief.  He swung his baton over his shoulders and rested his arms over it.  “But then again, she is the embodiment of luck so, maybe she just gave it to you.”

Ladybug’s head whipped back to him and she narrowed her eyes at him in warning.  He smiled innocently back at her as if he hadn’t just been meddling in her love life… again.  He needed to meddle in his own instead.  Although, with the way Spoiler kept eying him, maybe it was already taken care of. “Anyway,” she said loudly, bringing the focus back to the topic at hand.  “Tonight isn’t good.  We both have early mornings tomorrow.  But tomorrow night should work.  How about meeting here tomorrow at 22h?”

“Okay, now that that is settled, I have a very important question,” Spoiler spoke up.  Signal groaned next to her, preparing for whatever her question was going to be.  “Where is the best place to get some French treats?” Batman let out a deep sigh. “What!  I came to France to eat amazing French food and shop French fashion. They live here.  They should know the good places to go.”

Chat straightened up immediately and sent Ladybug a feral grin.  “You don’t say…”

“Chat,” Ladybug hissed warningly.

“They’re just asking for advice,” he answered in his most exaggeratedly innocent voice he could muster.  “You wouldn’t want to deprive them of the best food in Paris. Would you, M’lady?”  The devilish grin in his eyes was a complete contrast to the innocent voice.  He turned back to the bats, the picture of politeness.  “The absolute best place to get pastries in Paris is Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie on Rue Gotlib.  It’s amazing.  I recommend trying… everything.  And it just so happens their daughter is one of the most amazing designers in… anywhere.”

Spoiler grinned at him.  “A man after my own heart.  Thanks, Kitty Cat.  I’ll take that under advisement.  And do you also frequent there?”  

Chat blushed slightly and looked away quickly, but not before Ladybug saw the reaction and smirked at him.  “Yes, he does,” she assured Spoiler.  “He frequently frequents there.”

“And what about you?” Red Hood interjected, leaning toward Ladybug again, much to Batman’s chagrin.

“Are you kidding?  She’s the reason I found it in the first place.  I swear she’s there daily,” Chat grinned.

“Ooh, Kitty Cat, you sure know the way to a girl’s heart,” Spoiler purred at him.  Chat’s cheeks burned red, but didn’t look away from her this time.

Ladybug pursed her lips in annoyance at his romantic interference but quickly smoothed out at the sight of his blush.  A smile was back on her face when she turned back to the Bats, eyes lingering a bit longer on Red Hood before moving to Batman. “Anyway, we will see you again tomorrow. But Chat, maybe you should get an idea of what Spoiler likes so you can bring treats for her to the meeting tomorrow.  I have to go though.”  She waved at the bats before turning to Chat with a wink.  “Have a good night.”

Red Hood stepped forward before she jumped away. “You don’t want to know what I like for tomorrow?” he asked huskily.

She looked up at him with a sultry smirk.  “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea of what you like.  Sweet dreams.”

Red Hood watched her jump away.  “Oh they will be,” he whispered to himself.

<><><><><> 

Marinette had been apprehensive all morning.  Every time the bell above the door rung, she braced for the bats.  She let out a relieved breath as a man walked in by himself.  She wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure the group would come in together.  She wasn’t sure why she knew that, but somehow she was confident of it.  The man blinked a few times at her before smiling charmingly at her.

And damn if that smile couldn’t melt ice.  She let out another breath, this one to calm her cheeks.  She smiled at him, warmer than her regular customer service smile.  “Can I help you, monsieur?”

“Do you, by any chance, have a bowl or something I can put some water in?” he asked awkwardly in barely accented French.  The cocked head and curious look Marinette gave him prompted him to continue.  “I wanted to… there’s this stray dog outside and he looks like he needs some water.”

American, she noted… with dimensions roughly matching Red Hood’s.  And oh God, those muscles weren’t just the suit.  Well fuck.  Guess she did give him some luck after all.  “Of course he’s fucking Adonis hot,” she muttered under her breath, but apparently not quietly enough.  He smirked at her and chuckled.

Marinette’s eyes snapped up to him and she blushed furiously at having gotten caught.  She took a deep breath and smiled back at him.  “Blonde with a dark stripe down his back?”  He nodded at her, a surprised look on his face.  “That’s Éclair.  He’s a local stray.  An absolute sweetheart.  Here, let me get the bowl I usually use for him.”  She rushed to the back and came back with a filled dog bowl and some pancetta. “Can you give him this too, please?  I usually do, but I’ve been stuck inside most of the morning.”

He gave her another ice meltingly brilliant smile and nodded in thanks.

She tensed at the next man who walked in, not really knowing why she was apprehensive.  Red Hood was already there.  She gave him her customer service smile even as her eyes darted out the window to watch Red Hood feeding Éclair.  She could imagine the hearty laugh he let out when Éclair leaped up to lick his face.  She smiled at the sight.  

“Excuse me,” the man stepped into her line of sight.

She immediately turned to focus on him, regretfully tearing her eyes away from Red Hood and Éclair.  “Yes, monsieur.  Sorry about that.  How can I help you?”

The man looked her up and down and leaned toward her. “I was looking for something sweet. Maybe you could help me.”

She cringed internally, but gave him a strained smile as she leaned away.  “Of course, sir.  We have a lot of sweet treats.  Maybe you can look over the petit fours, éclairs, macarons, and tartlets.  Let me know if you have any questions.”

“I have a question already,” the man gave her a leering smile.  “Are any of the treats as sweet as you?”

She gave him a flat look and took a step back. She almost missed the door chime ringing.  “I assure you, monsieur, you would find me far from sweet. Let me know when you’re ready to order.” She turned away and started wiping the counter instead.

Red Hood took the opportunity to step up to her and pass the bowl back to her.  “Thank you. He looked very happy after the treats.”

Marinette blinked at him a few times and looked down at the bowl unmoving for a few seconds before the reason clicked for her. “Right,” she answered, louder than she meant to, as she took the bowl.  “Can I get you anything?”

“What do you recommend?” he asked as he moved to block the other man’s line of sight to her.

She smiled appreciatively at him.  Maybe he was impressive after all.  “You looking for something sweet or savory?  We have great bread, but if you’re looking for a treat, I would recommend an assortment of eclairs.  It just seems apropos.  Honestly, I think it’s all good, but I’m a bit biased.” She leaned in as if confiding a secret and winked at him.  

He chuckled and nodded.  “That is definitely something to consider.”  He side eyed the other man in the store.  “I’ll take a look around I think.  Figure out what it is I want.”

Marinette nodded and gave him an understanding smile. She turned to the other man.  “Have you decided, monsieur?”

The man made a show of looking around.  “Are you on the menu?  Because I definitely know what I’m interested in,” the man answered, leering at her again.

Marinette gave the man a flat look.  It was not the first time she’d heard the line.  She didn’t get it as much as waitresses, but still, it was a tired line… from a married man… that she had already turned down. “No, sir.  I’m not on the menu,” she answered curtly, “because we are not a brothel, which are illegal in Paris, I might add.  However, a quick internet search will direct you to the areas of the city where you can find that kind of menu items.  If you would like one of the pastries, please let me know which ones you would like, otherwise, please leave.”

“I’m not good enough for you, but you’ll flirt with him,” he motioned toward civilian Red Hood.

“First, I get to choose who I’m interested in and that isn’t you.  Second, he,” she motioned toward civilian Red Hood, “called dibs on flirting with me.  Now either order or leave.”

The man huffed and left, trying to slam the door on the way out.  The door closed with a gentle thud.  Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Sorry about that, monsieur.  Are you ready to order?”  She sent him an apologetic smile.

Jason stared at her for a few beats trying to figure out if her previous words meant anything.  She could have just said that because the guy was an asshole.  It could be a coincidence.  And her partner could have sent him here purely because they had really good food.  “Oh, um… what do you recommend I take?” he asked again absentmindedly, his mind still on how likely it was that it was all a coincidence.

Marinette smiled innocently at him.  “Me out.”

Jason looked at her wide eyed.  “What?”

“You asked what I recommended you take.  I recommend you take me out,” she shrugged nonchalantly, but the grin was devilish.

Jason opened his mouth and closed it again. “Any other day, beautiful.  Any other day I’d say yes, but I’m kind of working on someone else and I’m a one woman man.”

Marinette looked at him for a few seconds, a brilliant smile beaming at his response.  

“Thanks for helping out, Sweetie,” her mom called coming from the back room.  “I think we have it covered now.  Oh,” she looked up at Jason, then at Marinette’s smile, and back to Jason. She smirked at the two.  “I think you should be able to take off now, get to your real job.”

Marinette nodded and took her apron off, stowing it under the counter.  “Thanks, Maman.” She leaned up and kissed her cheek before making her way around the counter. Jason turned to her as she walked out, watching her as she moved.  She paused a few feet in front of him.  “I have to admit, you impressed me after all.”  

She smiled sweetly at him before moving to the door.  She turned back at the last second, twirling to face him.  “But you flirted much better with the helmet.”  She winked at him and disappeared through the door.

Her mom chuckled before clearing her throat. “Anything I can help you with, dear?”

Jason turned to her blankly, still processing what Marinette had said, after a second he smiled and rushed to the door.  “No, thank you ma’am.  I have some dibs to collect on.”

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver

[mlwritersguild]

For the first line prompt event: The end of the world was quieter than [insert pronoun here] would have expected.

Sanguine by @alexseanchai

AO3 Link; F/M, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mature, Temporary Character Death

Summary:

arrête! c'est ici l'empire de la mort

An odd sign. No one ever stops at the gates of the empire of the dead. One might turn back from a cemetery or wander the banks of the Styx, a Ladybug's charmed luck might turn the Pearly Gates to revolving doors, but the catacombs are a tourist attraction, and there is no moratorium on mortality.

She'll have to remember that one. The one she's here for might laugh. She hopes he'll laugh.

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

The end of the world is quieter than she would have expected. Chat Noir barely gasps as the blade goes in. If anything else makes a sound, she doesn't hear. He whispers "Marie," power sparking in his right hand, the sword sheath he thought a cane shaft clutched uselessly in his left, and he slumps silently to the cobblestones.

What good is creation if she can't create a way to save him?

Below ground, Ladybug's armor is substantial as mist. This acrid passage has little else but damp stone, seeming blood-stained in the dim carmine light. The only light source she sees is the faint glow of the cord she holds as though it's her shield and not her lifeline, flickering behind her in time with her heartbeat. She might be able to see her own reflection if she looked down at the open sewage pipe, or at one of the puddles that now and again she splashes soundlessly through. It's better lit behind her.

She remembers Mme Mendeleiev lecturing on human physiology. In healthy humans old enough to have learned how, urination is a voluntary action: one may not know which muscles one tenses and relaxes in order to do so, and one probably isn't paying attention to those details when one is so doing, but one has conscious control over whether one does. Usually. Stress and anxiety mean some people are unable to relax the relevant sphincter muscle and others are unable to stop themselves. It's voluntary for cats, too: it's one way they mark their territories. Cat-boys have other ways.

There is a moment in every human life when all one's muscles relax at once. Many Parisians have had several such moments.

Like you said, we can't lose hope. His voice does not echo from the tunnel walls, only in her memory. People are relying on us. Dozens of people were watching from behind overturned café tables, hundreds from inside stores and apartments, thousands through the lens of a fearless camera operator. Tikki herself will be helpless, if she and Plagg aren't already.

You and me against the world, m'lady.

Her aqua armor might almost be illusion, but it's that or turn back when the tunnel narrows to just wide enough for the water, all but black in this red light. It's red, not snow-white or ice-blue.

arrête! c'est ici l'empire de la mort

An odd sign. No one ever stops at the gates of the empire of the dead. One might turn back from a cemetery or wander the banks of the Styx, a Ladybug's charmed luck might turn the Pearly Gates to revolving doors, but the catacombs are a tourist attraction, and there is no moratorium on mortality.

She'll have to remember that one. He might laugh. She hopes he'll laugh.

The crimson glow is dimmer here, from a cord narrowed from the medium weight she knits sweaters with to something a hair more slender than the fingering weight she's been using to crochet matching lightweight cardigans in plum-blossom pink and buttercup yellow, mint green and forget-me-not blue. The thought is a detour. She skates on, careful not to move so fast she might slip, careful not to chance that the one clue she can follow home through the maze will come near her ice-armor boots' ghostly blades: infinite unbreakable length doesn't give her confidence in its shear strength when meeting pointed or careless magic. She hardly dares pay attention to the walls. He—her other 'he', the one she loves so very dearly he is only now crossing her mind, the one she loves so very deeply his name didn't touch her lips when she—

He has never, she bets, been able to breathe in enclosed enough spaces. This won't even be the first time hypoxia has been a problem for him: how many of the twenty-five thousand times were panic for four minutes forty-five seconds and reset? They were hiding underground, after all. More than six feet under.

Second Chance works enough like setting a video game save point that however many weeks he remembers won't have put more than five minutes' stress on his body, however intensely stressful those five minutes: no dehydration, no hunger pangs, no acid eating through the stomach lining. No matter how much it might have felt as though his body were devouring itself.

—This won't be the first time? Why would this be any time? Her beloved is safe, breathing freely far from this bastion of bones. He won't ossify here even if she already has. He's on the far side of the far end of the blood-red laceweight illuminating how far she's come toward the one she's here for. Warm apple red, not frosty blue, not chilling white.

(Who's Marie?)

The odor of rotten eggs has joined the cat-piss stink; the buzzing and humming of insect wings fill the hot air. She's choosing her direction by feel, now, guided by instinct and the blind guesswork of away: the difficulty of picking one pink thread, barely substantial enough for the finest details of embroidery, out of the visual noise—desert-noon bright, fading-coals dim, in-space-no-one-can-hear-you-scream dark—no, better to close her eyes. If not her literal eyes, exactly, then whatever spiritual sense or magical metaphor is processing her surroundings as though she's looking around. It's too much to bear if she still hopes to bring him home.

This is not her loveliness of ladybugs. Not at all within her control, as that power is, even when she accidentally launches Miraculous Cure with her Charm still in her hand. She cannot direct them enough that the breeze of their passing eases the broiling summer heat. Even with fire armor ensuring she can breathe without smoking or slow-roasting herself from the inside, she'll never again be able to say the hottest she's ever felt was when her beloved first saw her in a black bikini and promptly blushed boiled-lobster red. They were at a swimming pool, after all, and then out in cool autumn rain.

The river—

Translation dictionaries, her beloved told her once, list the opposite of 'forgetfulness', the opposite of 'concealment', and the opposite of 'lies' as the same ancient Greek word, alētheia: something his parents might have given him as a fourth or fifth name if his first had been Aliénor, Aimée, or Adrienne, as would suit a daughter. She didn't dare tell him why she agreed that was hilarious. Nor will she be able to tell him why she's laughing now to realize that same Greek word might also be translated as 'not this river'.

The one she's here for will understand.

"Oh no."

The voice she's here for crashes like thunder.

Her hands move without thought to entangle him in her embrace, in a tense, trembling lifeline thinner than a single human hair.

She'll stay behind, if one of them must. Give and take. Equal and opposite reaction. A life for a life.

The girl he mentioned, smiling, when she admitted months later she was late to meet him because her beloved's kisses made it hard to remember anything else. The girl he hoped to reveal his secrets to, first after telling her herself. The girl whose name he whispered with his last heartbeat. She deserves his smile and his secrets and his heart.

Her beloved will be heartbroken, but he'll recover. Anyway, she won't be who he loves if she loses him.

He won't leave without her. Sweetheart or no sweetheart, he is as hers as she is his, and he won't leave her behind. Vivaldi's 'Spring' floods her ears, familiar when arranged for solo piano for her beloved to play, ringing out now from a modern-day Orpheus who will demand his Eurydice precede him to safety. She didn't know he played.

Well. Her heartline might be a single silk-filament thick under the strain of keeping two (two hundred, two million) lives bound to life, but it hasn't snapped yet.

…She has no skill in any performing arts, to persuade the one he's negotiating with—she doesn't think that's her beloved's mother, though the face is the one she's seen in photos and portraits, but she isn't entirely sure it's not— She knows three guitar chords and no songs, is her point. Nor will her drawing or singing ever convey what her crochet and knitting can.

But with silk thread and a needle, and plain cotton weave to put them through. With sugar, butter, apples, and puff pastry.

Silk needs silkworms; butter needs cows. Silkworms need mulberries; cows need grass. Apples and sugarcane and mulberries and grass all grow better with humus or compost, with that fertilizing black substance living things die to become. Needles and knives need steelworks, and steel means cities—

She's running, feet falling on red lava and black rock as steadily as they ever have on zinc and wrought-iron. She keeps running, winding the red thread as she goes, as sure of the presence keeping pace beside her on white lichens and green moss as she ever has been on red brick and black slate. As confident that this will work with him beside her, running past dandelions and milkweeds and asters—as certain that she will only be lucky enough for this to work if she is as confident that this will work with him beside her, running past sage and rosemary and marjoram—as she ever has been with him beside her on cobbles and concrete and skyscraper steel.

If she's wondering how she knows they're passing apple and plum and mulberry trees at airplane speeds when her focus is on the thickening thread she holds and she has no time to notice more than green and white and green and pink and green and green and green, then she isn't checking beside or behind her for whether he's still there.

To make a tarte tatin from scratch, her beloved cheerfully misquoted, you must first create the universe.

Ladybug bursts back into being, the medium-yarn-weight magic transmuting in her hand to something sturdier than steel, flinging the yo-yo a familiar motion that catches two lampposts and tangles Hawkmoth in black cord that drags him back and up even as a spray of sparkling ladybugs let a Lucky Charm fall and shatter. If he struggles, he will bleed.

She's on her knees, clutching Chat Noir to her, his back to her front, body-hot wetness on her fingers, stinging where she sliced them on the blade Hawkmoth dropped.

Heartbeat. Heartbeat. Heartbeat. Syncopated.

"Message from Madame Hawkmoth," says Chat Noir, voice ringing in the sudden silence of the street, interstellar-cold rage enough to keep Ladybug's own supernova-incandescent fury from scorching onlookers. "If she'd known how you would interpret 'love, honor, and cherish all the days of my life', she would have insisted on 'until death do us part'."

"Release your transformation," Ladybug orders, straightening without standing. There hardly seems enough air in her lungs to speak the words. With so many eyes upon him and so little leverage (though if he had any he'd be almost close enough to kick them), Hawkmoth does nothing but sneer and wriggle. Ladybug draws another breath, chilly with early spring and scented with sweat and leather—no trace of the odors that said he pissed himself dying as everyone does, that he died of exsanguination as only unlucky ones do—and she orders, louder, "Surrender or die."

Hawkmoth's sword shoots off the ground and screeches against its sheath, extended steady in Chat Noir's left hand. Cataclysm bubbles brighter in his right. "Your wife wants a word about how you've treated her son," Chat Noir snaps. "Keep doing that if you want to have that chat with her before you explain your side of the story to him."

The Lucky Charm she summoned is a large black and red floor tile, square before it struck stone, and the shards still plainly show the same butterfly-like pattern as she's seen in the Agreste dining room in black and white. Maybe Chat Noir met Émilie Agreste, not Persephone, after all. Maybe Ladybug was right the first time, that the Butterfly Miraculous and the spellbook never parted ways, and the Peacock was with them till a few months ago.

Maybe Adrien is watching TV1 right now.

The earrings and ring shrill in unison. The sword slashes at the yo-yo cord, halted by crossed staffs. Ladybug yanks the yo-yo, expecting julienned flesh and spraying blood, and finds nothing but humus and ash, and a brooch and ring and phone clattering to the cobblestones.

Chat Noir turns and flings his arms around her, clinging with both hands for dear life.

She collects the brooch and ring and phone, somehow, the act of hiding the phone in the yo-yo giving her root access that lets her clean out Gabriel Agreste's files and secure his safe and lock down his mansion with barely more effort than wanting to. If the other adults in Adrien's household are accomplices, they won't get out of the building without her allowing it, or into the Miraculouses at all. Anything Adrien wants from his bedroom, they'll pack when they get there. No one's quite daring to approach them, yet, though the approaching sirens are probably coming here.

"That wasn't dandelion," Chat Noir mumbles without pausing in rubbing his face and hair and scent on her neck and shoulder. "Back there. Close, but not close enough for the good puns. That's cat's-ear."

"How do you know that?" Ladybug asks, scratching obediently at the base of one cat ear. Then she realizes it's probably the same way she knew those were apple trees.

Chat snorts. "Same way I know who we just executed. You know what they say about curiosity and cats." Okay, that is just too fucking soon; if he says it again she will demand satisfaction. He squeezes tighter—no way to know which of them is trembling—and casts a doleful glance at the broken tile: "Do we have to?"

"We… probably should." Ladybug doesn't reach for the Charm. Doesn't want to move. At least he plainly doesn't want to move either. Possibly they're both too shaky to stand.

The ring and earrings sound again. Chat sighs. "We should move before we transform for the whole world to see?"

"My whole world will see anyway," Ladybug observes, quietly enough that only her whole world will hear. "I'm not letting go of you."

A green flash, a pink, and Marinette and Adrien are wrapped in each other's arms, tighter than either has ever dared hold the other in five months of dating, each with an exhausted kwami on one shoulder. She blinks at him: "Adrien?"

(At least she won't have to tell him who killed his father?)

"Marinette," he says, disbelieving—the same name he whispered dying, spoken with a full breath—and starts to snicker. Then they're howling with laughter, staying just this side of the knife-edge between that and tears.

(Ten minutes later the emergency medical team is scolding them both about hypoglycemia, and a little girl with a medic-alert bracelet is offering the emergency candy stashed in her Rena Rouge backpack, and Adrien is planning to ask whether Shanghai's butterfly pastries are close enough to anything Tom & Sabine's sells to pull off that pun. Marinette will have to ask, but she's pretty sure that's just puff pastry, folded differently from how she'll need it to be to make tarte tatin.)

[127-mile]

DANS LES CATACOMBES | IN THE CATACOMBS. the sign above the door was written in french. it read: ARRÊTE! C’EST ICI L’EMPIRE DE LA MORT. - paul aertker, brainwashed.

PAIRING: Hanse x gender neutral reader.

GENRE: Established relationship, horror, angst.

WARNINGS: Mention of bones, drugs and alcohol, non-explicit mention of cults, blood and human sacrifices, mention of deaths, of the use of a ouija board and voices.

PLOT: You thought a walk in the catacombs would be a nice date, but how wrong you were.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k.

A/N: This is part of the Legends never die, the untold stories collab hosted by @nayuyeons. The tags are a lot scarier than the fic.

“At the end of the 18th century, major health problems linked to the city’s cemeteries led to the decision to transfer their contents underground. The Parisian authorities chose an easily accessible site, then located outside the capital: the old quarries de la Tombe-Issoire, under the plain of Montrouge. The first evacuations took place from 1785 to 1787 and affected the most important cemetery in Paris, the Saints-Innocents.”

“The bones, previously left loose, are carefully organized in the walls, on the model of quarrymen’s hagues. On the front, the rows of shins alternate with those of skulls, while behind the facings pile up the remaining bones, often very fragmented by the consequences of their fall.”

“There are 6 million skeletons stored in the catacombs ossuary, which is about 3 times more than Parisians! The Municipal Ossuary of the Catacombs is one of the largest ossuaries in the world.” (i translated these parts from the catacombs website back from my doyoung catacombs fic, i just used them again)

You barely hear the guide's voice, far too busy trying to ignore Hanse's lips on the back of your neck, his hot breath against your skin, and his hands gripping your waist. Several times you have tried to push him away, but the lack of movement does nothing other than to prompt him to stay glued to your back.

"That's not what we're here for." you whisper as you step on his foot hard enough to make him wince.

"I'm bored, I already know everything he's telling us." he responds by letting his arms fall to his sides.

You know, he knows it, you were next to him on the plane when he was reading the catacombs website. But it is an obligatory passage before the special visit begins.

Because yes, it is not a visit like the others.

Normally, the Paris Catacombs tour happens during the day, when the sun is high in the sky, and only the accessible and secure parts are visited, but today is a special day.

The tour takes place at night, and what will be visited will be the caves where strange events are said to have happened.

"Do you think the rumors are true?" he asks in a low voice, he refuses to be heard by the guide, he prefers you answering him, rather than hearing the boring and slow voice of the man who has been doing this for far too long.

"Some people were traumatized by the caves, but they were also drunk and on drugs, so I don't know how much we can believe the rumors."

And the events happened more than fifteen years ago, so water has flowed under the bridges, and who knows if the rumors haven't changed over time.

He nods, and finally the guide starts moving so you take his hand in yours and you follow the group.

"Are we allowed to use professional equipment?" someone asks, and you hear the guide chuckle.

"I do not advise you to do it, the caves are very unstable, we do not want interference, or too strong waves to cause the caves to collapse on us. That would be sad, especially because you signed a waiver that   forbid you from suing us."

Always read the waiver before signing it, you think, looking around. The man stops in a first cave, and he clears his throat. You have the impression that a mere burst of voice could bring the place down. Everything echoes, even your breathing.

“Apparently in the 1980s a cult found a way to get to the catacombs to perform sacrifices. You would like me to tell you that these were animal sacrifices, but no. Authorities found remains of humans that have been drained of their blood right in the middle of this cave."

Looking over the shoulder of the person in front of you, you notice a dark stain on the floor, but it's not strong enough evidence to prove that it happened. It could be a wet stain, or some idiot spilling something on the ground years ago without the guide seeing it.

"Do you have something that has been proven? Because we are wasting our time."

Your eyes widen when you hear Hanse's voice. He really isn't the most patient person when it comes to a guided tour. You suddenly remember when you went through the most haunted museum in the United States, he practically pushed the guide aside to make the tour himself.

You don't blame him, you don't even get mad, it actually makes your heart beat a little faster.

"If you wanted to get to the good stuff immediately you should have entered illegally." the guide responds by continuing the tour.

About twenty minutes pass, the guide tells more stories as strange and impossible as the other. Hanse is getting more and more annoyed, you can feel it by the way he squeezes your hand every time he enters a new part of the catacombs.

"There are loads of haunted places in Paris, why did you choose the catacombs?" he mumbles, and you shrug your shoulders.

"Maybe because you've always wanted to visit them?"

"And here we are in the last cave. This one is dedicated to our impatient young man in the back of the line."

If Hanse had less restraint, he would certainly be insulting the guide, but instead he steps further into the cave. "Come on, surprise us with another made-up story."

"This one is not made up." he says in a firm voice, and Hanse throws his head back laughing. His laugh hits against the walls, and the echo makes you shiver in an unpleasant way.

"So you admit that the others are made up? What are you willing to do to make money." he answers, and you wonder if the guide will hit him when he clenches his fists.

"You gave me your money to hear these stories, so shut up and let the others enjoy."

"Come on baby, let him do his job." you whisper as you take his arm, your head resting against his shoulder.

“In the early 2000s, a bunch of teens decided to enter the catacombs illegally, and they got lost. Unfortunately, when they were found they were already dead. Since then, the people wandering too far away in the catacombs, or people who come to renovate say they hear voices."

Everyone is silent, even Hanse, which is strange.

"A video was found, a video that was never allowed to be shown to the public in an attempt to trace the identities of these people, but the police were allowed to watch it, and informations were leaked."

"In this video you can see the teens running, presumably being chased by someone. Or rather, by something."

Whether this story is true, or made up, your eyes widen, it's crazy.

"Some people can still hear the teens calling for help, screaming and crying because of the thing chasing them."

There is silence in the cave, and you look around, frowning. You don't know if it's because of the story, or some trick played by your mind, but it feels like you are hearing a claw all around you. As if someone was scratching one of the walls.

"Do you hear that?" you ask near Hanse's ear who nods his head.

“People, so called paranormal professionals came with a ouija board. And by wanting to talk to the teenagers, they called something more powerful, something even worse than what caused the teens' deaths."

Your blood freezes when you hear a sudden cry. The scream is so loud, and so close to your ear that you are sure if you turn around you will see someone behind you screaming their lungs out, but there is no one there. You do not feel any presence behind you, and even Hanse who is looking around, does not react.

"What was that?" you ask, panicked.

"One of the teenagers. They want to get out. They are tired of being locked up in the catacombs. And I understand them. It's hard to always be here, to have to listen to the cries of the grieving souls without being able to go out."

A new scream is heard, and this time, you have no choice but to put your hands against your ears to muffle the noise that could make you cry because of how loud and so full of pain it is.

"Stop it, make it stop, please!" someone exclaims.

If you are paralyzed, Hanse seems unable to stay still, he is ready to pounce on the guide who is scaring everyone. Who is scaring you, you, whose heart hasn't even raced in the most haunted places you've visited in the past three years.

"It's okay, we got it, you know how to tell stories, and you know how to scare us, now bring us back to the surface!" he growls, and the other tourists seem to agree with him.

Except that..

Except that when you turn in the direction of the guide, he is gone.

[tsumtsumland]

“la vie est belle”| o.tooru x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

author’s note: this is very self indulgent...I hope you guys indulge yourselves too :3

The pitter-patter of raindrops on cobblestone fill your ears as you step out of the cozy confines of the small patisserie. Before you could take another step forward, a large, red umbrella covers your head, preventing you from getting wet. You look up at the brunette next to you and can’t help the smile that instantly spreads across your face, you thank him quietly and place your hand atop of his that held the umbrella over you both.

“What do you feel like doing, babe?” Oikawa’s voice fills the silence between you two as you set off with bellies full of hot decadent hot chocolate and buttery croissants, and no real destination in mind.

“Would it be too much if I said just enjoy the rain?” you ask, dangling your fingers in the steady raindrops and making him chuckle.

He had a rare week off and decided spontaneously that you two should take a trip to Paris. Something you both should’ve taken into consideration however, is that fall in Paris, is rainy…really rainy. It had been raining nonstop since you arrived in the city of romance two days ago, but somehow despite not being a big fan of the weather pattern, Paris was still beautiful.

“We’re in Paris y/n, the possibilities are endless!” Tooru dramatizes, waving his free arm about.

“They are,” you agree, nodding along. “What do you want to do Tooru-chan?” you tease.

You turn your gaze to him and see his face morph into an expression of utter mischief, “Well I mean, since it’s close by and all…”

“We are NOT going to the catacombs,” you hiss at him, digging your nails lightly into his hand.

He bursts into laughter and the sound warms your soul, even in the chilly autumnal temperatures. He always laughed so genuinely and unapologetically with you that every time you hear it you fall in love a little bit more.

“Fine fine,” he surrenders. He knew you well enough to know that you were horrified at the idea of even walking past the catacombs, this wasn’t your first trip to Paris after all. It was a city you both adored so you came back whenever you could.

“I’m not in the mood for massive queues in this weather, so the main attractions are definitely out,” you tell him grimacing slightly at the thought of standing for hours in the rain to get into the Louvre or Musee d’Orsay.

He nods, “Let’s just…enjoy the rain then,” he quips, bumping your shoulder with his lightly.

You shake your head and laugh, “How original of you Sh-Oikawa.”

“Were you just about to call me Shittykawa?!” Oikawa gasps in faux horror. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you hang out with Iwa-chan!”

Turns out this was probably one of the best ideas you both had. You strolled along the banks of Seine river, in no rush to go anywhere. The conversation between you both was light and flirty as per usual as you walked together, absorbing the sights of the city. You blush at the third couple you come across on your stroll, heavily making out as if they were alone. You were no prude, but this wasn’t common in Japan, so it always threw you off slightly when you saw it, it felt like you were invading a private moment. Tooru laughs at you, making you hit his shoulder, “Don’t act like you’re shy,” he whispers in your ear, voice a little huskier than usual. You squeal and push him away, not like he budged anyway.

“I’m not,” you grumble.

“You’re too cute,” he grins and pinches your cheek even as you swat his hand away.

Sometimes you’re not sure whether you want to slap him, or kiss him, or maybe both, in that order.

Street performers’ melodies swam in the air as you passed by, and the small shops set up along the banks selling all sorts of trinkets added to the charm of the city.

You both stop at another chic little café for some lunch and some rest time before continuing your walk around the city. The colors of dusk cover the sky melding with the earlier grey, giving the twilight a stunning purply hue.

You had no intention of going to the Eiffel Tower today, but you gave in. The magnificent splendor of the iconic tower lit up against the Parisian night was way too tempting to resist. How often do you get to see it anyway?

“Come on,” you grab on to the setter’s arm and drag him to one of the nearby bridges that cross the Seine, with a perfectly non-obstructed view of the glittering landmark. You stop in the middle of the bridge and stare in awe.

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out, eyes trained on the lights.

Oikawa feels his breath catch in his throat as he looks at you. He vaguely wonders if you know how much he loves you, it’s been three years since you’d been dating but it felt so much longer. You were a permanent fixture in his life now and he couldn’t imagine it any other way.

“Yes, it is,” he whispers, but his eyes are on you.

You turn to look at him when you hear his voice, and you’re not sure how it happened, but suddenly you’re the only one holding the umbrella, and he’s down on one knee with a small black box in hand. The diamond at the center of the ring winks back at you, and a fresh wave of emotions make you choke up.

“Will you marry me?” simple and straightforward, the way you preferred it.

“Yes!” you gasp, tossing the umbrella to the side and throwing yourself into his arms after he slips the ring onto your finger. He gives you one of those heart-stopping smiles and spins you around, slotting his lips over yours to seal the deal.

[mwolf0epsilon]

What would be the Bendy cast's dream summer holiday?

Dream summer holiday you say? -cracks knuckles- I'll give it my best shot.

Joey Drew - Finally go to the Bahamas. Amazing islands with great beaches and spectacular coral reefs? This man wants to go scuba diving so bad it makes him look stupid... Also no one's going to find him when there's so many places to hide.

Henry Stein - Go camping with his wife and daughters. He knows some good spots up in the Appalachian mountains. Just them and nature... No weird machines that can summon inky devils. What more can you ask for?

Linda Stein - She's not picky when it comes to how she and her family spend their vacations. As long as everyone can unwind she's up for anything. Variety is a must tho, doing the same thing every year gets a little stale.

Sammy Lawrence - He never got to go to Coney Island so he'll likely look into finding the closest thing to it as possible. Maybe goes to Disney World out of pure spite. Overall just wants to have one day where decorum and appearances mean nothing. Deserves a break from being the guy with the stick up his ass.

Jack Fain - Traveling abroad is a big vacation goal for him. Call him cheesy but there's something about going to tourist attractions with the husband that feels really romantic to him. They're making memories together!

Susie Campbell - She's not one for big glamorous vacations. Just wants a couple of days to herself, maybe go to the beach to work on her tan, and overall just has a good couple of "Me" days. Might go to flea markets to get some goodies. She's treating herself!

Norman Polk - Look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn't travel to Paris specifically to sneak into the Parisian catacombs... Sends everyone the ugliest postcards he can find.

Allison Pendle - She'd invest to either go on an amazing tour of the Amazon forest, or a safari trip in Africa. As someone who appreciates the realm of the supernatural, Allison strikes me as someone who'd want to take a break through the natural.

Thomas Connor - Wherever Allison goes, he goes. All of their photos are mostly just Tom grumpily scowling at the camera while holding souvenirs, or laying in the hotel bed looking miserable because of mosquito bites. He's not a big vacation person but he'll endure it since his wife is really enjoying herself. He's honestly just glad to be away from other people.

Wally Franks - Disney World with the family. You can't tell me Wally wouldn't plan a massive trip for his entire family and all his friends. It's always a party with the Franks, and it's also likely someone's going to get arrested.

Shawn Flynn - Goes on a week-long hiking trip. Very big on photographing the journey, but the pictures aren't of the spectacular views or local fauna. Its just weirdly shaped rocks he finds that he thought were pretty neat.

Grant Cohen - Vacations are expensive. He'd rather just stay home and maybe sleep for an entire week or so. Seems like the type to turn on the radio and just get lost in cheesy radio-dramas.

Buddy Lewek - His family has never really had money for big vacations, so he'd do something like camping. Whether or not it's indoors or outdoors depends on how eager he is about the whole thing. Mostly he just wants to spend a bit of time reading and drawing without being disturbed.

Dot - She spends an entire month on a family trip to all the oddball tourist traps they can find. Writes about these family vacations and takes fun photos. Her favourite trip was to a UFO fanatic town. The people were quirky but polite and welcoming.

Abby Lambert - Travels to France to go see the Mona Lisa. Does some sight-seeing and ends up painting the view from her hotel balcony. Sends Henry a little Eiffel Tower statuette and a card with a charcoal illustration. Likely runs into Norman at some point.

Doc Hackenbush - Volunteers to do veterinary work at a zoo for an entire month. Gets up close and personal with some of the most magnificent animals the world has ever seen. It's a humbling experience for a vet like him.

Bertrum Piedmont - Is taken against his will on a fishing trip by Lacie. He's initially grumpy about it, but relaxes once he realizes how calming it is. Eating a big fat meal of fish has never tasted better, especially after catching it himself.

Lacie Benton - Goes on a month-long fishing trip with Bertrum. Inheriting her uncle's boat has it's perks, especially when she feels it's time she and her best friend need some time alone from the idiots at JDS.

Emma LaMonte - A trip back to England every year keeps the homesickness away. Spends that time with family and friends, and is very private about it.

Detective Sinclair - When you're an old detective like him most days are a vacation anyway. Work can be quite scarce. Doesn't really care for long frivolous trips anyway. Hitting the local bar or catching the latest baseball game is good enough for him.

Nathan Arch - Hasn't had a vacation in years and doesn't plan on it anytime soon. His health wouldn't allow him either way...

Nathan Arch Jr - Spends a maximum of two week in a cheap ocean themed motel, just to be alone with his thoughts. It's become a bit of a ritual and the motel owner always saves him the same room. Despite the tacky decoration it's the only time he ever feels relaxed and content in the entirety of the year.