#or just like cried in front of the eiffel tower in general

[hellsite-hall-of-fame]

have you ever stood in front of the Eiffel Tower crying on the phone to your mother?

[s-and-n-writes]

scarred, broken, and mended

summary: She felt the weight of the ring on the string around her neck and could feel her scars.

No, she thought, not wanting to get lost in the memories, not now. I can do this later. 

So she plastered on a smile, tied an apron, and started frosting some cupcakes.

That night, she allowed herself to feel, and cried herself to sleep, plagued by nightmares of black leather and a feral grin.

pairing: jason todd x marinette dupain cheng, red hood x ladybug, red hood x multimouse

quick links:

| next chapter >

| miraculous masterlist | series masterlist |

inspired by: 

scars, freckles and names, and gotham mouse, paris bug, both by @izzybellepenguin​ 

warnings:

trigger warnings, abuse, mentions of abuse, angst, evil! adrien

a/n: Maribat Jasonette Fic. violence and bullying. there might be another tw but i don't know. the possible tw will start at ~~ and end at ~~. the definite tw will start from the first word and end at ~:~.normal intro notes. i'm s of s and n. also this is going to be angsty for a long time. also I've never read the comics or watched the movies for batman but i've read almost every maribat fic so plz come at me. thank u

Crack .

Marinette sunk down against the wall, holding her, now broken, wrist. Tears were streaming down her face as she held in a sob.

“Stop bullying Lila, you filthy bitch! God, why was I ever friends with you,” Alya whisper-yelled at her. They were in an empty classroom after school ended and nobody was around. Still, Alya took care to be quiet. Lila was standing behind her, complete with fake tear tracks and a massive smirk.

As Alya slapped her again, leaving her cheek red, Lila continued to fake sob about how she “couldn’t believe Marinette would act like this” and how she “makes it so hard to forgive her”.

~:~

“It’s fine, Lila. She deserves this. You are a much better person,” Alya said, and they walked away together. Alya continued spewing out encouragement and praise until Marinette couldn’t hear them anymore. She finally let out her sobs but quickly wiped her eyes. She had to be home soon, before her shift at the bakery started.

She got up, cradling her wrist, and put up her hood to cover her red face and puffy eyes. Marinette had changed what she wore after the first time they left visible bruises. Now, she wore a black hoodie over a pink shirt, with grey pants, and kept her signature purse (I never liked writing clothes so just imagine them). She made them, and she signed everything with her signature: MAT. She had made a fashion brand online after Jagged Stone had asked for more pieces, and soon Clara Nightingale had asked for a few too. Eventually, her brand, MAT, was famous and celebrities everywhere wanted something. It stood for Marinette And Tikki, for her favorite tiny god. She knew Tikki would be there for her, no matter what.

Oh no! She was going to be late! Marinette took off, trying to rush home, when she winced and had to slow down. She had forgotten that her ankle was sprained after Alya pushed her down the stairs. She limped home quickly, entering through the back door. She didn’t need her parents realizing she wasn’t home yet.

Marinette hobbled up the steps and into her room, putting down all her books and collapsing on her bed. Tikki came out of her purse and flew near her.

“Marinette! Are you okay? Are you hurt too badly?” Tikki asked, full of concern for her favorite Ladybug.

“No. My face hurts but the main thing is my wrist. I think it’s broken,” Marinette said, trying to stuff the pain and sadness down. It was a habit even though Hawkmoth was defeated. She was just so used to pushing all her emotions down that she couldn’t stop. Blank-faced, she sat up and wiped away the tears. Her face was almost back to normal and she needed to start healing now  since her shift started in 10 minutes.

Marinette started chanting the healing spell she learned from the Grimoire. After Master Fu had passed over guardianship, she had taken it upon herself to learn the Guardians’ magic, as it would help her. Right now, she had to heal her wrist. FInishing the chant, she took a sip of the potion needed to complete the spell. Marinette scrunched her face in disgust. No matter how many times she drank it, it still tasted like a mix of broccoli, sock, and camembert. Odd combination, but what can you do?

Now that her wrist was almost fully healed, (it still hurt to move it a lot), she needed to run down for her shift. If she was late, her parents would ground her, and that would hinder her patrol schedule. Even though Hawkmoth was defeated, she and Chat Noir had kept their Miraculous. Well, that’s not completely true.

Chat Noir started out as a good partner, if not a little too flirty. As time went on, however, he started being less helpful. He would flirt aggressively and try to force Ladybug on dates, which made him useless in battles, but at least he would try. Once, he even went as far as to refuse to help defeat an akuma.

During the battle with Hawkmoth, however, when he was revealed to be Gabriel Agreste, Chat Noir fought hard , with an intensity Ladybug didn’t know he could have. It was completely new and seemingly out-of-character for the guy who would constantly get killed and controlled by akumas. Honestly, Marinette was a bit scared. She had to physically stop Chat Noir from cataclysming Hawkmoth.

After Hawkmoth was defeated, Ladybug decided not to reveal identities, since Chat Noir was kind of annoying. Not to mention, he was incompetent in fights and generally terrifying during the battle with Hawkmoth. Not a great person to know your deepest secret.

Chat Noir kept pushing for a reveal, how he deserved this for taking down Hawkmoth, and how everything would be great because they could finally date. Ladybug had no interest, and when she said so and refused the reveal, Chat Noir went crazy.

He began demanding and begging for a reveal, saying how they were ‘soulmates’ and they could ‘ finally start dating’ and how they were ‘perfect’ for each other. When that didn’t work, he was following her on patrol, trying to find out where she lived. Chat Noir and Adrien both got closer to Marinette as well. Chat Noir would stop by and vent about how Ladybug was rejecting him, and how Marinette was so similar to her. Adrien would hang out closer to her and Marinette saw him stealing glances at her during gym and lunch. Normally, this would have made her giddy, but her crush had died the day he said to ‘take the high road’.

Marinette could deal with this. She could deal with the following, the venting, and the begging. It was annoying , but not the worst. Then, it happened. Ladybug was out on patrol and Chat Noir was following her, as usual. He stopped her by yelling and caught up. Then, he grinned, and it was more animal than human.

~~ (possible trigger warning)

Ladybug could see the malice in his eyes when he pinned her on the ground. His claws traced her face, then it started. Chat Noir growled and tried to rip her suit, rip her mask, do anything to be able to identify her. He even tried to remove her Miraculous, but thankfully she had enchanted them so they couldn’t be removed by force. Then, he tried his ‘Hail Mary’.

“CATACLYSM,” Chat Noir yelled, no, growled , and Ladybug’s eyes went wide. His hand went to her left side and Ladybug screamed. She could feel the cracks on her skin, could feel the dark energy zooming across her body. She went limp, and Chat Noir jumped away, seeing how the suit cracked but didn’t come off. It left scars from the left side of her rib cage, stretching around to the right side of her stomach. The main one was on the front, but there were many smaller ones, branching from the main one and covering her back.

~~ (possible trigger warning ends)

After all of that, Marinette knew she had to take back the Miraculous. With a heavy heart, Ladybug called Chat Noir to the top of the Eiffel Tower and took back his Miraculous. It was hard but ultimately worth it. Even now, walking down to the bakery, she felt the weight of the ring on the string around her neck and could feel her scars.

No , she thought, not wanting to get lost in the memories, not now. I can do this later . So she plastered on a smile, tied an apron, and started frosting some cupcakes.

That night, she allowed herself to feel, and cried herself to sleep, plagued by nightmares of black leather and a feral grin.

quick links: | next chapter >

a/n: so updates will be there and if i miss the schedule, it will be there. i will try and update every week. plz comment if you enjoy. comment if you dont. if i fail miserably at writing let me know. 

tagging:

so we’ll be starting a taglist for this series, and we’ll be tagging people who liked the post before. if you don’t want to be part of the taglist, sorry about that! shoot us message and we’ll remove your tag, no offense taken. if you want to be part of the taglist, send us an ask/message and we’ll add your name!

@charme-de-malchan​ @aveline-rose​ @bookblokeanoid​

[xadial]

You got me to do them, your turn!! I dont care i you havent reblogged them, im asking you ALL the hozier asksssss

welcome to ramble city

‘Hozier - How tall are you?

you’re so cruel hmph. the top of my head would be 1068′ 1.5″ off the ground if i was stood riiiight on top of the eiffel tower

Wasteland, Baby! - Have you ever fallen in love?

that’s a very very strong word to me and i didn’t let myself feel anything at all until a few years ago, which is weird to say but it’s true in a sense. the answer is complicated i guess? i had one crush for so long that it just pissed me off eventually, and then there’s the shallow kind of ‘oh she’s pretty’ crush i’ve had on a few girls. there’s only been one time where i thought i genuinely might if i got to know them well enough and it’s the most terrifying thing i’ve ever felt. (all of it was however an excellent boost to the amount of poetry i wrote dskjfghsd)

Nina Cried Power - What protest, today or in history, do you wish you could write a thank you note for?

i mean stonewall is the only one i can think of? extinction rebellion is sort of a contentious one because while they do an incredible job they did plan to disrupt heathrow airport by flying drones around it which is going to lose them a whole load more public support than it’s going to gain them

Almost (Sweet Music) - What’s your favorite style of music? Favorite song off this album?

ohhh! lots of complicated percussion/instrumentals in the background (think gold or believer by imagine dragons) and i have a soft spot for violins that can make you feel such powerful but intangible emotions (like in the intro to ‘cypress queen’ by the last buffalo). my favourite song off this album? i can confidently say that they will all in turn be my favourite, one by one, when the universe thinks i need them.

Movement - If you could move anywhere in the world at this very moment, with no restrictions, where would you move to and what lifestyle would you live?

i’ve thought about this one for a while and i honestly don’t know. i wouldn’t want to be in the type of suburbs where grey suddenly becomes the only emotion and you can taste the futility of life every time you breathe (which is a lot of places, my home probably included but for the fact i’ve lived there all my life so i see it as an exception). i wouldn’t want a mansion or a massive house? just somewhere cozy, probably, but for me i think having good friends live with or near me would be the most important thing. oh but very little light pollution and an awesome view of the stars and maybe the aurora borealis/austrialis 

No Plan - What’s one spontaneous thing you did that you have good memories of?

i managed to sneak out at one in the morning to meet a friend who was high on mdma. i know i’m tiny and i should be more scared for my wellbeing than i am but it’s such an incredible, ethereal time and if the world wasn’t slightly rotten at the core i’d go on so many walks around that time. plus mdma makes you really really affectionate and sappy so i was just walking next to a compliment machine with free weed for three hours, which is a very rare and novel experience

Nobody - What’s your favorite thing to do when no one is around?

be ten times more gay and also do a fuckton of spontaneous dancing/humming/singing, also talk to myself at full volume, and also be utterly unpresentable and thoroughly enjoy it

To Noise Making (Sing) - Do you play an instrument or sing? Do you want to learn an instrument?

i do sing. i sing as well as i play football, and in year two (i was five or six) my infant school brought in football coaches, and we were given instructions for some simple moves, and i was enjoying myself when i was called up to the front by the coaches to show the rest of the year my Moves, so i showed them all proud and stuff until a few seconds later the coach pointed at me and said, ‘watch this kids! now you know what not to do!’. everyone can sing. some never should.

As It Was - If you could go back in time with the knowledge you had now, but you had to redo the last ten years over again, would you?

honestly i don’t know. i hate how i was for a good five years of that past ten but i’m very happy with my life as it is right now, so i’d only do it if i knew i’d end up with the same friends (and maybe slightly better grades fsdjfkgsk)

Shrike - What’s your favorite plant or flower?

i don’t have a specific one but apple blossoms, sakura trees and willow trees are definitely special to me. i also love forget-me-nots becuase, huh, that’s half my life summed up. AAAARGHHH i swear i have a favourite but i can’t remember it for the life of me!! (also!! my parents caved to my hippie bee-loving attitude and they’re planting pretty much all the grassy space in my back garden with wildflowers which i’m ecstatic about too, we got enough seeds to cover it all for like £8)

Talk - Who is one writer/artist/creator that you wish you could talk to, dead or alive?

okay i know richard feynmann is a physicist but he wrote books too so technically it counts if i say him. i have so many fucking questions and so little time and if there’s a guy to argue about quantum physics about it’s him

Be - Where is your favorite place to be? In general? Right now?

i want to be home in my room with its incredibly messy decorations and slightly precarious bookshelves with a couple of my friends, in winter, snowing outside because climate change is a thing of the past, curled up with fleeces and hot chocolates watching either killing eve or otherwise something heartwarming and also gay

Dinner & Diatribes - If you could give an angry speech to anyone in the world right now, dead or alive, with no interruptions, who would it be?

ben shap*ro ben shap*ro ben shap*ro ben shap*ro ben shap*ro ben shap*ro ben shap*ro ben shap*ro be

Would That I - What’s your biggest ‘would have, should have, could have’ moment?

most of it comes down to studying or school related stuff. i remember resolving to give up completely on even trying to go to school in year ten and it lost me a whole year, not even of just education, i barely remember anything from it full stop. i also bitterly regret not trying for a scholarship to this fancy boarding school in year six/seven because i don’t know how much different i’d be now but i definitely would be more well adjusted and self disciplined and hopefully ‘smarter’ in the ‘more knowledgeable’ sense. i was a coward and i still am but my god am i better now. i guess it still taught me to be scared shitless and push forward anyway for fear of regretting backing out

Sunlight - What is the weather like where you are right now? What’s your favorite kind of weather?

gorgeous belfast almost-impending-drizzle. it hangs over your shoulder like a permanent threat to destroy your paperwork and turn your awesome fluffy hair into an impeccable drowned rat cosplay

NWFWMB - Have you ever went through a natural disaster?

me, i’m a natural disaster

Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue) - What’s your favorite tongue/language?

i love spanish but i’ve never learned it much beyond school! i also love hearing spoken mandarin? there’s something about it and the way the sounds that makes me v happy. also no joke arabic is the prettiest language i’ve ever heard spoken and im booboo the fool for not realising it sooner like, DUDE??? HOW WAS I NOT AWARE OF THIS????

[grown-up-sally-face]

Fight To Hell and Back

No, this wasn’t fair.

Even Baby could sense that, and she usually had a hard time with things like this. She’d been screwed over in the past because she thought it was fair, and she didn’t have any qualms with people taking more than they needed.

But Baby could tell just by looking up that she’d been fucked over.

She hadn’t planned her day like this. Being magic just apparently did that to you, whether you were magic indirectly or directly.

Despite her knowing, and being a living example of, magic, she’d laughed when Larry had said that they needed to go back in time and lock the demon away. When questioned as to why, he said that things in the current time were disappearing.

Not just small, insignificant things; huge ones. A train full of people went missing, the Eiffel Tower, the water and sea life from an entire ocean.

And no one was noticing.

“It’s not that I want you to go back; this shit is dangerous. I’d rather you went back home. But people are in danger. They need our help.”

It wasn’t even something for her to hesitate over. She’d grabbed her bag and told him to take her there, sending a message to Jess that she’d be late in getting home that day.

They’d jumped into the past using the same magic she used to jump universes. It drained her, but less so than the universe jumps.

It had been clear what the problem was, and the problem noticed her before Larry could even try and protect her.

The demon was huge. Well over 40 feet in height, creating a vaccuume in which it sucked things from different parts of the world and gorging itself on the souls.

When it reached for Baby, she was sure she was gonna die.

Yet it snapped its hand back, screaming in anger and swiping at her.

She was basically acid to this thing; extremely potent acid.

Gripping the cross around her neck, she’d jumped into battle, ignoring Larry’s cries for her to think for once.

She climbed the demon, burning him the entire time wherever her hands grasped. It smashed its fists in her general direction, eventually grappling at something and causing the whole world to shake.

Everything was off. The past and the future collided, past selves seeing who they would be in the future. Baby gripped onto the beast harder, blood running cold when she heard the faint screams of Jess.

Jess has been so sick lately. She was worried, fearful even of what would happen to her. Baby made the mistake of turning to look, seeing Jess yell something at her-

It hadn’t even hurt.

She just felt the sensation of something foreign, seen Jess’s mouth fall open in a petrified scream.

Her parents were running, but they had to stop as the ground shook.

Baby ignored her pain, grasping the cross and whispering every prayer she’d ever been taught. Her very life was draining, but her blood would be used as the chains to capture this horrible creature.

It screamed far too loud for Baby’s liking, but it wasn’t able to get Baby to stop talking. She kept her mantra up, chains that were deep red forming from the ground and looping around the demon, forcing it to cough up all it had ate.

It shrank, sinking into the ground with Baby still attatched.

Through layers of earth, they went down. Deeper and deeper until Baby felt that her skin would melt off. The demon still struggled vainly.

Finally, the demon was completely covered in chains, unable to move nor speak. Baby ripped the cross from her neck and slammed it into the makeshift lock that would be the demons essential tomb.

The force from her last action shot her out of the Earth, landing her in front of her parents and Jess.

She saw them running toward her, closing her eyes. The comfort washed over her, and she fell into a different type of dark.

[theliterateape]

The Truth Will Set You Free...

by Don Hall

HIS SHOES WERE WHAT HE CALLED financial aid shoes in college. So worn and threadbare they barely qualified as shoes.

He'd been walking, sometimes running, once in a while skipping or dancing, along this road for just over fifty-six years. For most of that time, he'd walked with companions and lovers but today he was once again traveling solo.

He knew what was coming up ahead. As a result of the knowing he found himself walking in slow, befuddled circles, unwilling to move forward for just a bit. He knew better than to sit down because that inevitably led to stasis and decay. He walked in circles.

Here it comes, kid. For some time upcoming, you'll pass those places and moments when things were shiny and wonderful but the patina of betrayal will be right there to make each one bittersweet. Sonofabitch, I hate this part.

He stopped for a second. Looked ahead and sighed the sigh of a man past his prime but not so old that the walking ached his joints and lower back. He pulled his hat low on his head and started motorvating.

One foot in front of the other. Jesus. This is harder than all of those other upheavals combined. The second one slept with my friend for a year and it didn't feel like this.

He could see it coming up on his left. Like a life-sized diorama built from dust and light, a tiny apartment in Paris. Servant's quarters, really. An Air BnB he had rented for her as a first wedding anniversary present—a month in France. She went alone for the first three weeks. He joined for the fourth. They had not spent any time really apart up to that point and both cried on the first FaceTime call, he in Chicago and she a quarter mile from the Eiffel Tower.

He saw her standing in a black cocktail dress, posing for a picture. He saw himself walking through a museum exhibit devoted to the artwork of Toulouse-Letrec and the history of French prostitution and pornography. Bites of cheese and tiny bottles of cheap red wine on on the banks of the Seine. A picnic in a park the two of them had traveled miles to find.

He stopped and stared for a beat. As he felt the tears pull his face into a grimace, he reached up and smacked himself, turned away, and kept walking.

Why is this so much harder? I mean, aside from the extreme situation, the wild ride of improbable circumstances, why does this feel like suffering rather than relief?

He thought about Paris as he passed and the model evaporated like vapor. It had been his grand plan and he had saved money and made arrangements for her to experience a piece of the world she had only dreamed of prior. Like all grand plans, there were hiccups but, on the whole, it was a landmark in their marriage.

On his right, coming up around the corner so fast it made his knee give way a bit, was another diorama.

There she was, on the stage of a music festival in downstate Illinois. She was both drumming and singing. She was fantastic. He had rarely been on the "I'm with her" side of things, not known strictly as himself but as her husband and it was thrilling.

He stood in the mid-day heat among a crowd of appreciative festival-goers, drinking a flat Budweiser, and taking pictures of her (and her band) on his phone. She was amazing to behold and he soaked in the moment.

Later, after the set, he was suddenly employed as an unofficial roadie, helping carry the instrument cases back to the crappy van they traveled in, showing her in his way how supportive he was. How proud to be hers.

And then immediately on his left—

The chef who prepared their delicious Italian meal was also an opera singer. She was standing in the restaurant belting out an aria from Riggoletto (he thought it was ‌La donna è mobile) while the two drank wine (her) and beer (him).

They were in Cancun on a beach vacation. It was their 'one good meal' as he liked to say because her preference was to find the diviest places and nibble from the generally limited bar menu. He insisted that they go to at least one decent restaurant. She had chosen this one and it was a knockout.

The trip had had its ups and downs but this moment—this one—was the one he most cherished. She was beautiful. The food was incredible. The opera singing chef was a surprise and capped the evening as both wonderful and romantic.

At least romantic for me. Her version of romance typically came from a bodice-ripping pulp novel—all steamy lust and sex—his was this. It was a disconnect between us but at this point in time, the stars and the pasta aligned.

He knew that in all relationships, there is good and bad. As he walked through this gauntlet of memories, he recalled what he told her during the first stage of confession, the decision to split, and the far more explosive confession of a night later. That these had been the best seven and a half years of marriage he had experienced. She wept in maybe a sense of gratitude, of the feeling that it hadn't been a waste of the time, that things had been mostly good.

He made a joke at one point—following the full picture napalming of the marriage—that even the best meal, when followed by a dessert platter filled with nothing but huge piles of shit, is found to be an awful experience. He wondered if that was true. Does the narrative of a marriage flip from success to failure based entirely on the unfortunate end?

The second ex-wife may have abandoned the marriage for the bed of another man but, as I walked this same nostalgia tour of highs and lows, I concluded that it had not been a waste of my ten years of life. She and I were imperfect as a couple but dynamic as partners. We created theater together. Theater, like relationships, can end up being impermanent yet the creation of so many shows with so many people affected is at least notable.

Years ago and in a more innocent, less weaponized version of social media, there was the blue dress/gold dress illusion. Half of those online saw a blue dress. The other half saw a gold dress. For its moment, it was all anyone could talk about. On a deeper level, the mini-controversy opened up those post-modernist questions about reality and how perception of the individual trumps any attempt at objectivity.

He thought that the nearly eight years of their coupling was that dress. He saw it as blue; she saw it as gold. Such is the case with all such things.

What did she and I accomplish together?

As the various dioramas popped up he tried to see the gold dress as best he could.

His fiftieth birthday party that she had organized for him. The seventh wedding anniversary where she took him to the oldest steak house in Las Vegas. Hours of conversations about books and culture as she worked as the off-the-books manager of a used bookstore.

The places they traveled together— London, Edinburgh, Jamaica, St. Thomas, Cancun, New Orleans, and, of course, Paris.

The short distance travels he called 'team retreats'— Tiny towns in Michigan, Pennsylvania, Nevada, Utah, California. The grand weekend in a COVID-shutdown Reno.

It seemed to him that the answer to the question was that they vacationed. Not as much as he thought she would've preferred but plenty enough for him.

It's difficult to view the time as little more than her using me as an opportunity to experience the world on her terms. I was happy to play along. While the union hadn't been particularly productive—we hadn't created much—it was fun.

He read once (or maybe saw it in a movie) that in a relationship, the one who cares less has the power. Power was always important to her. Control of her surroundings, of the people around her, of him. Given the circumstances, it seemed to him that she cared less about the longevity of things than he did which fit the idea. Nothing wrong with emphasizing a power dynamic but in a relationship promised to be based on mutual interest, mutual trust, and mutual respect, the disconnect was fatal.

He kept moving forward. He knew what was coming, wasn't looking forward to it. As David Foster Wallace wrote "The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you."

✶

AFTER WHAT SEEMED LIKE HUNDREDS OF MILES WALKING DOWN THE ROAD AND NEARLY EIGHT YEARS OF MEMORIES, HE SAW IT. This was the thing he dreaded. He'd been through this every time he'd failed in a big way. He didn't really know what it was called but he called it The Tunnel of Regret and Recrimination.

It didn't look like a long tunnel—it never did. He'd been through it for both of his divorces and it hurt each time. Both of those experiences left him scarred and filled with self doubt. It was a horror show of mirrors, of voices, of things said and done that ultimately led to his current moment.

He stopped just short of the tunnel's gaping entrance.

Christ. This is gonna be rough.

He took a long breath, held it for a few seconds, let it out, and stepped in.

"If you'd just grabbed me and said 'I can fuck you better than him' and thrown me down and fucked me, we wouldn't be here!"

A scene of her bringing two random strangers home for drinks who were obviously there for a threesome and he looking past it and shrugging as if it weren't a sign of things to come.

"I wouldn't change anything about you."

"You don't want the whole truth. It would hurt you too much."

"I might have a Craigslist gig where I bring this guy home and tie him up and leave him there for a few hours."

"That's not how an open relationship works—you don't fuck around for two years, get caught, and then suggest it."

He saw himself sitting in the airport with his friend, wondering where she'd gone after being unreasonably furious at the hickie he'd given her the night before. Later, on the plane, sitting in misery, he looked at her and asked "Are we still getting married?"

"I was riding my bike and a guy pulled up and offered me $15.00 for a blowjob. I laughed and told him he'd have to come up with a lot more than that!"

A bizarre montage of him accepting and ignoring her demands for attention followed by her open disgust of his affection.

"Oh, yeah. She's a cat. When she wants affection, she gets right up in your face, when she doesn't she'll swat at you with her claws. I can never tell which cat she'll be on any given day."

A moment when she took a Christmas present from his mother and left it in an alley just around the corner from their apartment and he simply not saying anything.

"God, you're such a blowhard. You talk SO much!"

He watched as she frequently said horrible things about him—his weight, his teeth, his hair, his clothing, the food he ate—and instead of standing up for himself simply complaining like a child whose feelings were hurt.

He also saw himself quietly judging her choices. Her pornographic view of sexual relations. Her absolute refusal to get a job. Her focus on Craigslist as a source of random income. Her strangely distant relationship with her mother and maternal relationship with her father. Her lack of ambition to do more than skate over the surface of life. Her daily dumpster-diving. Her hedonism. Her low-grade misandry. Her petulant reaction to rules.

He felt disdain from her. She likely felt the same from him. The stage had been set and the inevitable conclusion reached.

"It takes two to tango."

✶

HE STUMBLED OUT OF THE FAR END OF THE TUNNEL AND FELL TO HIS KNEES. He felt despair like he never had. He let loose and wept.

He knew that his deep sadness was as much his doing as hers. He knew in a way that was a devastation that he had all the information the entire time but had convinced himself that the power of simply acquiescing and believing in the fairy tale of their story, things would certainly turn out better than this.

He had forgotten that fairy tales—at the least the versions before Disney got a hold of them—were cautionary tales designed to scare the shit out of children. Warnings against the dangers of complacency and carelessness.

He had seen the warnings and actively chose to not only ignore them and her but reframe them into a strange roadmap of the acceptable. He was madly in love with a version of her that didn't really exist. He saw past her and invented someone. At least she'd been honest enough to actually see him and know she wasn't in love with his real self.

So many of his family and friends were quick to tell him that none of this was his fault as if fault is the end-all-be-all anyone should be seeking. She acted with no malice just thoughtless disrespect in the end. He was no more to blame than a man who ignored the warnings of a natural disaster but ignored them. This was no one's fault.

I have to own my dumbassery to learn from it. The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you.

He got up from his knees. He wiped the tears and snot from his face. He took another breath and began walking again.

He approached a fork in the road. No markings. He could go right or left but once the choice was made, he was destined to walk that path. No do-overs.

To the left was a section of the Road identical in its way to the section he'd traveled before he'd met her. To the right was a similar road but far in the distance was the silhouette of a woman.

He shrugged. He smiled a smile acknowledging what a moron he had been and would be again. He turned to the right and started walking again.

[nighthowlers8795]

Dreams Come True / Part 3 (Liam x MC) NSFW

Pairing Liam x Annie

Part 1

Part 2

Before reading this story, here are some need to know facts. This story is a loose follow up of my “Happy Easter”. Nine months after Annie announced her pregnancy, she gave birth to a beautiful princess. They named their first born Caroline. She is 3 years old now.

This was definitely some random headcannon just hit me. In general, I’m really bad at getting inspiration and my goodness this just hit me out of nowhere in the middle of the day.

Tag list: @pens-girl-87 @captainkingliam @theroyalweisme @boneandfur @blackcatkita @madaraism @viktoriapetit @decisso @trianiasti@topsyturvy-dream @alicars @laniquelove @callmetippytumbles 

Summary: When the day comes to an end, what other adventures await for the royal couple?

The princess was in a deep sleep when the entire family made back to their hotel. Annie puts her in bed as quietly as possible, she doesn’t want to make any sound that will interrupt her baby’s sweet dream.

Quickly changes into what the queen has prepared for the night, Annie walks through the living area back to the master bedroom located on the other side of the suite.

Liam has his breath taken away when Annie enters the room. She has a white sheer lace bra top on, the lace was thin he can easily make out the pink of her cute nipples. Tracing down Annie’s body, he finds her in a matching strappy gather panty and straps hooking on a pair of white lace stockings.

The king can hear himself gulps hard, he is speechless for a complete 5 seconds. Annie nervously tugs a flock of hair back,” So what do you think?”

Liam jumps off the bed and closing on their distance,” I think it is time for Daddy to have some fun.”

Before Annie knows, Liam’s hands are on the back of her head, keeping her from pulling away His mouth crashes against hers and the intense emotions that comes along with it makes Annie lose her breath. Liam pushes against her until she bumps into a wall. She clenches on his polo shirt as his tongue finds hers, dancing and twisting. He kisses her intensely like she is the last bit of oxygen on the planet he depends on to survive.

Liam moves his hands to Annie’s backside and picking her up.”Wrap your legs around me, my love.” Annie’s arms warps around his neck tightly.

“Crotchless, my queen??? You have been very naughty. But today I want to take my time with you.” He unhooks his bra, and covers her left breast. With one hand holding on to Annie’s ass, Liam squeezes it hard until his fingers bite into the flesh. The misture of pain and pleasure drawn a small whimper out of her.

He sucks on her right side, flicking the tit with his tongue. Annie arches her body towards his, quivers with needs and want.

Annie trails one hand down her body and starts to rub her clit. “No, no, no. You are not allowed to touch yourself tonight, my sweet kitty.” He grabs her hand and bends it behind her back. “I want to hear you tonight, my name on your lips, your passion. Show me how badly you want me and you will be rewarded.”

Liam pushes her body up against the wall, lifts her legs on his shoulders and buries his head between her thighs.”You are so wet, my sweet kitty, Have you been thinking about been eaten up by Daddy all day?”

He kisses her inner thigh before staring licking her sex up and down. Annie can’t control herself flooding her husband’s mouth. She holds on to Liam’s head and fingers clenching to his hair. “Oh, yes, Daddy, yes.”

Her legs starts to shake, Liam knows she is getting close. He pulls away right before Annie was going to come.

She opens her eyes with frustration, looks at Liam with confusion. “Now, you will have to beg for the rest. What do you want, kitty?” A grin on his face, he blows out a breath on her swollen nub.

“I want your big thick wand, please.” She screams out her plea.

“Not so fast, I thought I told you I want it slow with you today.” His hand found her core, circling out side of her lips.

Annie bites her lower lips,” Can I have the magic fingers, then?”

“Yes, kitty, if you behavior.” He pushes two fingers inside her, in and out fast. Annie starts to grind against him before too long.

“I’m cumming.” The kitten throws her head back against the wall and yelling comes undone.

Liam puts Annie back on the floor, she is struggling to stand on her jello like legs. He quickly shoves his pants down and picks her up again.

“Open your legs for me, kitty, wide open.” He orders, rubbing the tip of his shaft between her legs. “Do you want me to fuck you now?”

Annie blinks her eyes,”Yes, please fuck me with that royal dick.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” His hand pulls her cheeks apart, opening her as wide as she can go.Then thrusts into her with force.

She cries out his name instantly as her skin stretches tight over his manhood.”God, Liam.”

He shifts his angle to hit her G spot.”What about this, huh, kitty?”

“Yes, fuck me big Daddy.”

He moves faster and faster, shoving Annie’s body against the wall, each time she jerks making the sound of a banging door.

“Ring ring, ring ring, ring...”The room phone starts to ring and startles the couple at first.

“Liam, the phone.” “Don’t worry about it, wrong number probably.” He picks up his pace and grinds his pelvis against her sensitive clit.

Annie can feel every inch of him, merciless and forceful as he strokes her inner walls until she reaches for her orgasm.

A few more pounds Liam spills his seed inside her. He carries her to the bed and cleans her thighs with a warm towel.

“Ring ring, ring ring.” The phone rings again, Liam clears his throat before he picks it up.” Hello?”

“Hi, this is Sarah calling from the front desk. How are you doing tonight?”

“Ahem, very well. Thank you.”

“We received a complain from the room next to you. The parents said their kids can hear banging noises and woman screaming, we figured you are probably watching TV. Could you tune it down a little bit, we will really appreciate that.” Liam’s face is all flushed. “Of course, we apologize, and we will shut off the TV.”

Annie bursts into laughter after Liam hangs up the phone.” Wow, she really made us embarrassed without calling out on us having sex too loud. I’m sure the parents next room will have some explaining to do with their kids. Now I feel bad.”

“Next time we will book a presidential suite, so nobody’s room will be on the same floor as ours.” Liam runs his fingers through his hair.

Annie giggles,”Yes, my king.”

“I have a surprise for you too, my love.” He gently rubs her back. “I want to take you and Caroline to the Eiffel Tower tomorrow and we can look for our lock on the bridge together.”

“I love you so much, Liam.” Annie kisses him on the cheek.

“Tu es l’amour de ma vie, Annie.”

 The End

[ellohcee]

For the um....writing promts.... what about fever? Maybe one could be sick and the other takes care of them

Alrighty, here it is! I’m hoping to continue this one some day, as it’s actually part of a much longer piece that’s still in the rough stages? So I worked on this part for the ask since it fit!

50 Prompts

#35 - Fever

Miraculous Ladybug

Prompt List

AO3

- - - -

The clouds were thick above Paris,blocking the late morning sun from view and turning the world gray asrain pelted the earth, soaking everything. It was another in a stringof stormy days that had been persistently hanging over them, goingnon stop most hours. It was this dark Thursday morning that Marinettesat through class in a daze, her face warm and her head feeling likeit was stuffed full of cotton. She could barely focus on anythingbeing spoken, while Alya gave her concerned side glances every sooften. Time slipped in and out for her, and she had no idea what timeit was or how long it had been since her eyes focused on the board upfront.

Time passed at normal pace for the restof the glass, and it was almost eleven when Adrien heard a soft thumpbehind him, and a concerned whisper from Alya. He turned in his seatto find Marinette with her head on her arms. He frowned in concern,but apparently he and Alya weren’t the only ones that noticed.

“Marinette, am I boring you?”

The accused party picked her head upquickly, immediately regretting the rushed action as her head swamnauseatingly. “No ma'am, I’m sorry.”

Mme. Bustier hummed thoughtfully and walkedtowards the seats before proceeding up to the second row. She leaneddown over Marinette and stared at her intently, making the girlnervous from the close attention. The woman then reached out a hand,feeling Marinette’s forehead. “You have a fever. You should go homefor today. Do you want to call your parents?”

“Ah- um, okay. But I really don’tneed to bother them, I live just down the street,” Marinetteprotested softly, knowing one of them would come to get her withouthesitation but not wanting to drag either of them over. “They’reworking.”

Bustier clicked her tongue softly, butlet the matter slide. “Well then, do you have an umbrella for thewalk?”

“Umm, no, but it’s fine, really-”

“I have one, I can walk herthere,” Adrien volunteered happily, bringing mixed reactions from certain parts of the class. Chloe looked downright scandalized, practicallygrinding her teeth against desire to say something. Alya lookedabsolutely pleased, folding her hands over the desk with a grin, andMarinette was just softly puzzled. It struck her that normally shemight be freaking out that Adrien was offering to walk her home, butshe was just too tired and sore to invest that kind of energy rightnow.

“Very well, you’re excused for theday Marinette. And Adrien, I expect you back within the hour, sinceyou don’t have far to go,” Mme. Bustier instructed, walking backtowards the front of the class.

“Yes ma'am,” Adrien replied, beforeturning to look at the girl behind him. “Ready to go?”

“Ah, yes,” Marinette replied,snapping out of her daze and quickly packing her things away. Whenshe made another mistake of standing too abruptly, her head swam justa little, but it passed soon enough for anyone to notice. Marinettecarefully made her way down the steps, half expecting Chloe to tripher out of pure spite over Adrien’s volunteering. Luckily there wasno incident from Chloe under Adrien’s pertinent stare, and he guidedMarinette out of the classroom. Once down the stairwell and outsidethe front of the school, Adrien popped open his umbrella and steppedcloser to Marinette, holding it mainly over her.

As they walked down the front steps andproceeded towards the bakery, he noticed his friend was unusuallyquiet. She must really not be feeling well.He frowned. Usually Marinette was chattering with nervous small talk,but she was just… quiet. Her eyes were nearly closed so it was awonder she could see what was in front of her, that flush in her cheeksworryingly red. When they arrived at the shop front connected toMarinette’s home, Adrien took a moment under the shop’s awning toclose the umbrella and leave it propped against the wall, out of anypasserby’s path.

Adrien pushed thedoor open and caused a small bell over their heads to jinglecheerfully while Marinette trudged inside. The inside of the bakerywas warm and inviting, smelling of many delicious scents that Adriencouldn’t place but knew must taste amazing. Sabine looked up to greetwho she thought was a customer but instead found her daughter, andthe baker’s face turned worried as she moved around the counter.“Marinette, honey what are you doing home?”

“Um, goodmorning, the teacher excused her for the day, she’s not feelingwell,” Adrien supplied, causing the woman to look at him.

“Oh, thank you somuch for walking her home, that’s so kind of you! Your name wasAdrien, right?” Sabine asked pleasantly, earning a shy nod from theboy. “I really appreciate you making sure she got home. Adrien,would you mind terribly waiting here for a moment while I get her tobed? I’ll be right back.”

As Sabine began toshuffle her daughter towards the house, Marinette looked blearilyover her shoulder and offered a smile. “Thanks Adrien, see youtomorrow,” came her soft parting.

Adrien smiled back,happy to see a sign of her usual self despite his friend’s condition.“Bye Marinette, feel better.” As the two disappeared, the blondestood in the bakery and looked around. He’d been through here before,but he’d never taken the time to really study it. Everything was neatand clean, the warm lighting illuminating a glass case full ofbeautifully decorated pastries. It made him feel welcome, it was anice change from the depressingly huge and empty manor he was usedto.

When Marinette’smother returned, she bid Adrien to follow her. They walked shop frontand into the part of the building that was their home, morespecifically the kitchen. “Do you have to rush back to school,dear?” Sabine asked, opening a cupboard and taking a few items outto place on the counter.

“I’ve got nearlyan hour still, but I don’t care to test Mme. Bustier’s patience,”he said with a chuckle.

“Alright then,I’ll make this to go,” Sabine hummed cheerfully, grabbing adisposable cup from a stack they used for the bakery. She grabbed somemilk from the fridge and filled up the cup, placing it in themicrowave. While the milk heated, Sabine grabbed a small squarecontainer and brought it over to Adrien. “I was going to give yousome fresh baked croissants as thanks, but Marinette asked me to giveyou these,” Sabine said, opening the lid.

Adrien’s eyeswidened in surprise to see a neat pile of small pastries, covered ina thin dusting of powdered sugar.

“These are thelemon jam squares she made by hand, she is the daughter of two pastrychefs after all,” Sabine laughed at the incredulous look on theboy’s face. She closed the lid and handed him the container.

“Wow, thank you,”Adrien said, carefully placing the box of pastries in his bag.

Meanwhile, Sabinetook the steaming cup out of the microwave and open a jar of richcocoa powder. She mixed in a generous spoonful and covered it with alid, walking over to Adrien once more and handing it to him. “Andtake this too, it will warm you up on the walk back.”

“Thanks, I reallyappreciate it,” the blonde said with a smile. It never failed toamaze him how nice Marinette’s parents were, even upon the firstmeeting when they treated him so kindly without any reservation.

“No, I’m the oneto be thankful, it was very kind of you to walk her home when she’snot feeling well,” Sabine said, placing a hand on the boy’sshoulder.

“It was noproblem at all, I just wanted to make sure she got back safe,” heexplained, cheeks going pink from the praise he was not used to.“Well, I’d better get going, thanks for the care package,” headded, smiling widely.

“You’re welcome,I hope you like it. Take care on your way back to class, alright?”Sabine asked, setting a hand on the boy’s shoulder as she walked himback out to the bakery.

“I will,”Adrien replied, waving as he left. The little bell above the doorjingled once again, and he bent down to grab his umbrella. Adrienpaused for a moment to open the container, picking up one of thepastries and taking a bite. It was fresh and soft, topped with alemon custard and filled with strawberry jam in the center that madehim melt on the spot.

“Woah,” hebreathed in amazement. “This is fantastic,” he said to himself,taking a sip of the hot chocolate. It was rich and flavorful, runningwarm down his throat and leaving a trail of pleasant heat to hisstomach. Adrien inhaled deeply and let it out as a sigh of purecontent, opening the umbrella with a ‘wumph’ of displaced air andheading back to the school. The whole way back he pondered how todiscreetly share the snacks with Nino and Alya without getting mobbedby the whole class.

- - - -

Later that dayafter classes had ended and Adrien was home for the day, he foundhimself thinking about Marinette, how flushed her face had been andhow tired she seemed. “Hope she’s okay,” he sighed, flipping thepage in his text book. The sound of the rain drowned out all otheroutside noise beyond the walls of the mansion, turning into apleasant white noise. Well, until the explosion.

Adrien looked outhis window in shock, seeing a thin plume of smoke drifting towardsthe sky near the Eiffel Tower. “Aw man, while it’s pouring out?Come on! Plagg, transform me!”

“What?? Whileit’s raining??” Plagg cried out, the rest of his forming complaintcut off as he disappeared into the ring.

Chat Noir sprang from his normal window with all the usual grace, using his staff tolaunch over the main gate and across the city. His searching eyesfound nothing as he carefully ran and jumped between slick rooftops,but once he got closer to the smoke, he stopped on a terrace to tryto scope out the situation. Ladybug didn’t appear to be present yet,so he scanned the destruction for answers. A spot in the street hadbeen decimated, the pavement cracked and crumbled. This was thesource of the smoke, but he could find no trace of the presumed Akumathat caused it. Either that, or someone was just playing withexplosives in the street. He was more hoping for Akuma.

A few minutes lateras he was patrolling the area, he caught a flash of red. “You’re alittle late there, LB,” he teased, seeing her come in for alanding. But when her feet hit the roof, Ladybug stumbled harshly andkept going in an attempt to correct herself, right for the edge.“Woah!” Chat called, darting out from the overhang and wrappinghis arm around her waist, pulling her towards himself and away fromthe edge. “Ladybug, are you okay? What just happened?” hebreathed in shock, searching her pale face.

“Sorry, sorry,”she said, holding a hand to her head as she tried to control heruneven breathing. “I’m not feeling too good.”

Chat’s eyebrowsfurrowed in concern. “What, you too?”

“What?” Ladybugasked, glancing up at him.

“Um, nothing. Areyou sure you’re up for it today?” the blonde asked, setting a handon her forehead. “Even through my glove you’re burning up.”

“I’m fine,really,” she replied with a weak smile. “Besides, I have topurify the Akuma, they don’t take sick days Chaton,” she chuckled.

Chat’s frownincreased, her jibe doing nothing to make him feel better about thesituation. “Well, I guess we don’t have a choice about that. Buttry to take it easy, alright? Leave the heavy lifting to me and youtake care of the Akuma once it’s time,” he insisted, setting a handon her shoulder.

“Alrightalright,” she relented softly, smiling at him. “Thanks Chat.”

He tried to smileback at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes, as all he could thinkabout was Ladybug nearly stumbling off the building a moment ago. Hewas going to have his hands full trying to watch her and the Akuma atthe same time.

Maybe this would bean easy one.

Yeah. Sure.

[jessikahathaway]

Owner Part IV

DON’T OWN THE PICTURE

Hello Hello! Here’s the next part of owner! It took a while, but I’m glad it’s out there for you all to enjoy!

Panic enveloped your being. Jungkook stood up and scrambled to shut the bathroom door, almost falling and killing himself in the process.

“Y/N? Are you home?” your mother’s voice echoed through the halls. You were trying to get to your feet without slipping and smacking your head again.

“Y-yes! I’m in the restroom, give me a minute,” you yelped. You rushed and threw a towel at a very naked Jungkook. He pulled the towel around his waist and covered himself.

“Does she just barge in like this usually?” he whispered, exasperated.

“Well, normally I’m alone so it doesn’t matter,” you answered, rushing to wipe down the floor.

“What do I do?” he asked, looking at himself in just a towel.

“We’ve been dating a while, she’ll think it’s normal, just stay here,” you said going to the door. You glanced back to see Jungkook’s lean and toned back on display for you. You shook your head and hurried out of the room.

When you made it to the living room your mother was sat on the couch, looking through her day book. She lifted her head and smiled; standing to give you a hug.

“There’s my lovely daughter,” she said, squeezing tightly. You sighed and hugged back, knowing she wouldn’t let go until you did. However, it was nice to see your mom again after a long time of being apart. As much of a pain as she is, you loved her nonetheless.

“Hi, mom,” you said, releasing your hold on her. She gave a big grin as she looked you over. However, confused flitted across her face as she took notice of the wet marks on your clothing.

“Why are you wet, darling?” she asked, pulling at the fabric curiously.

You thought of a lie quickly.

“Jungkook just got out of the shower and wanted a hug so, I got a little damp,” you laughed, trying not to look too nervous.

“Jungkook?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“My boyfriend, the one I’ve been living with for the past two months,” you clarified. Her eyes widened and she tried to find her words.

“He lives here, with you? But you’ve only been dating a few months,” she said, her face clearly displeased.

“It’ll be eight months next week mom,” you said, pushing your hair back off your face.

“Y/N, I think I got soap in my eye,” Jungkook said, walking out rubbing his eye. Your mother gasped.

“He has ears!” she yelped. Jungkook looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“Most people do mom,” you said.

“But they’re dog ears!”

“He’s a hybrid mom. They’re part human, part animal,” you said, explaining the ears. She walked up and looked at him closely. Closely, your mom looked at him with her lazer vision.

“What do you do for a living?” she asked, staring up at him.

“Freelance dancing mainly, one performance could give me enough for a few months,” he said smiling. “But Y/N has encouraged me to make a career out of it,” he explained, wrapping his arm around you. Normally you’d flinch or shy away from anyones touch, but Jungkook’s warm arm around your waist felt oddly relaxing. Your mom raised an eyebrow at the two of you before giving a smile to Jungkook.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you darling,” she said, kissing his cheek. You watched your mother for any signs of displeasure, but couldn’t find any. “How about we go to the cafe together? I’d love to get to know you more sweetie,: she said, smiling at you both. Although, something didn’t sit right with you.

You all went to the cafe with your mother per her request. She was nice the whole time, but something was eating at you.

“So, how was your trip mom?” you asked after a lull in the conversation.

“Fabulous, everyone was lovely, and the clothes!” she gushed. Your anxiety eased watching her become more animated. She talked about the luxury of the city while your food came.

“You’d never believe how big the eiffel tower is in real life,” she said, smiling brightly. The waiter set your food in front of you, but you didn’t really pay attention, more entertained by your mother’s hand gestures. You mindlessly went to lift a bite of your salad to your mouth before your fork was smacked out of your hand. You gasped ad looked at Jungkook furiously.

“What the hell is your problem?” you fumed.

“You were just about to take a huge bite of mango, you’re allergic,” he said, pulling the salad away from you. “Could you remake this please?” he asked the waiter. The staff quickly cleared your plate away while you stared at Jungkook with a stunned look on your face.

“Thank you,” you whispered, staring at him with wide eyes. Your mother gaped at Jungkook with a shocked expression.

“My God! Y/N!” she yelped, holding your cheeks. “Be more careful! My God I could’ve lost you, my only baby!” she cried, hugging you tightly. You cringed at her yelling and gross crying, but patted her head to sooth her.

Finally, when you mother detached you looked at Jungkook with a loving expression.

“Thank you,” you said a little louder so your mom could hear.

“I’m your boyfriend, it’s my job to keep you safe,” he said, kissing your hand. You could practically hear your mother’s internal screaming. The rest of dinner went off without a hitch. Your mom insisted on paying for the meal. ‘The least she could do for the man who saved her daughter.’ You tried not to throw up your meal you’d just had.

You went back to your apartment and your mother decided to stay in a hotel closer to the mall.

“I want to do some shopping tonight,” she said as she made her way out. You and Jungkook waved goodnight. When the door finally shut you walked out of Jungkook’s embrace and to the kitchen to start making some tea.

“What a day huh?” he said, jumping up on the stool.

“Thanks again,” you murmured. “I normally would look closer at the menu, guess it just slipped my mind,” you said, shrugging as you boiled the water.

“Don’t mention it, I was the one who put the mangos on that salad, it’s only fair I save you from them,” he stated. You snapped your head in his direction so fast you could’ve sworn you heard a crack.

“What did you say?” you glowered. Jungkook became tense and bit his lip. You noticed that his ears started to flatten against his head.

“I may or may not have told the waiter to put mangos on your salad...”

“The fuck did you just say!?” you screamed lunging towards Jungkook, murder the only thought in your mind at the moment. Jungkook grabbed your waist and tried to keep you from clawing his face off.

“Hang on hang on!” he yelped, jumping away from you agilely.

“I’ll hang something, you sound like the perfect thing to hang!” you growled. Jungkook blocked your attack with ease, making you snarl in annoyance.

“Just listen!” he yelled, making you stop. He sighed in relief at the ceasing of your slapping. “I knew that your mother was wary of me, so I did that so she would trust our relationship a little more, I wouldn’t ever let you eat something that could hurt you, I promise,” he said, placing his hands on your shoulders. You looked down for a moment then pushed his hands off you.

“Whatever, next time yu plan on playing with my life, let me know first, yeah?” you said, pulling your bag off the couch.

“You would’ve have died, I’ll give you CPR,” he chuckled.

“Come near me with your mouth without my consent again and you won’t be able to reproduce,” you warned, flicking your hair over your shoulder and heading towards your room. Jungkook grumbled something, but you didn’t think too much about it before shutting the door to your room and heading for a well deserved nap.

---

A few weeks had passed and you and Jungkook had gotten used to co-existing with each other.

He had this habit of waiting for you to come home. When you asked him about it, he said it was just natural for him to wait for you. Because it was more fun when you were home. So every night when you walked through the door, Jungkook would be there with a warm cup of coffee or tea.

Although, there was one problem that you kept encountering.

Jungkook didn’t know the meaning of personal space.

Whether it was when you were cleaning and he was always behind you and wanting to hang onto you. Now, it wasn’t really a problem, you didn’t mind really. But you weren’t the touchy feely kind of person.

But on the weekends when you were reading a book or watching TV on the couch Jungkook would crawl up and lay his head on your lap. At first it was a little irritating because he would push your book up and around. He also would bug you to play with his hair. Generally you wouldn’t, but if he had been good you would run your fingers across his scalp a few times to give him the attention he wanted.

However, the one thing you weren’t going to tolerate was him sneaking into your bed in the middle of the night.

There would be nights when you’d wake up sweating and you briefly think that you are going through early menopause, but then you feel the arms around your waist and Jungkook breathing down your neck.

Jungkook had many bumps and bruises from you pushing him off the bed and onto the floor. He claims that he doesn’t do it on purpose. He just gets cold and he likes to be warm.

Although, sometimes at night when he’s asleep in your bed and clinging to you, you’ll hear him talk in his sleep. He’ll go through some fits and it’s concerning. But, you wake him and he laughs it off telling you it’s nothing and that he’ll go back to his room...

But you can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.

It had been bothering you all day at work and even the night before when you were trying to fall into a fitful sleep. Because restless sleep was better than none at all. Kinda.

You were walking out of your office building when Taehyung, the security guard you had humiliated yourself in front of decided to pop up.

“Hey, Noona!” he shouted, bounding over to you like an excited puppy. You thought briefly of Jungkook jogging your way when you arrived home. You quickly shook your head to focus on other things.

“Taehyung-ah, how are you?” you asked, slowing your pace while he matched it.

“Great! Thanks for asking, did you ever figure out that boyfriend fiasco that you were worried about?” he asked, as the two of you headed for the door. You flushed and tried not to think about asking him to play boyfriend for you.

“U-Uh, yeah, sorta...” you said, not really wanting to divulge your current situation to the younger man.

“Awesome! That’s good to know, you seemed really upset over it,” he said, giving you a kind hearted smile.

“Don’t worry, I figured it out. So... Did you need something?” you asked, looking at the envelope he had in his hand.

“Ah! Yeah, that’s right. Namjoon-hyung wanted me to give this to you, apparently someone sent you a letter! How cool, people never send letters anymore. I wish someone would send me a letter,” he prattled, starting to head towards a tangent you didn’t really want to be apart of.

“Thanks nice of you to bring it to me Taehyung, I’ll take it if you don’t mind, I’ve got to go home and make dinner for Jung-” you stopped yourself. Taehyung gave you an odd look.

“Jung? Jung who?” he asked, bumping shoulders with you. “You really must’ve solved that boyfriend problem huh! Good job noona!” he said, giving you his classic boxy grin.

“Ah ha ha... Yeah, anyways. Thank you for bringing me this, see you soon, yeah?” you said, already heading out the door. Taehyung just nodded and waved as you scrambled to your car in embarrassment. If all of you interactions with Taehyung ended this way, you were hoping he’d make himself as scarce as possible.

---

The walk home was uneventful.

You were busy thinking about Jungkook. The whole day you were worried about him. This morning he was asleep on the sofa and he was rather warm. You weren’t sure what was wrong with him. Waking him up had proven fruitless. So, you had left your cell phone number and the home phone next to him in hopes that he would call when he woke up.

But your phone was silent the whole day.

Not even your mother called, something out of the ordinary for her. Unless she was spending money. Then you didn’t really want to hear about it.

You wandered around the streets, trying not to get too worried. If Jungkook needed something he would call you. Wouldn’t he?

Without meaning to, you started to walk a little faster. Then a little faster after that. And before you knew it you were running down the street trying to get home. You were worried. You had been worrying about him all day and without meaning to your mind had been wandering to him all day.

He’d been fine a few days ago! Why the sudden change?

You jogged up to the front door of your apartment building. One of your neighbors, Seokjin, was getting his mail when you stumbled through the door looking like a hot mess.

“Whoa, easy there Y/N-ah, you alright?” he asked, looking at you with curiosity.

“Just, feel like I left something on in the apartment and I wanted to make sure that I didn’t,” you said, running past him and up the stairs.

You flung open your apartment door and saw Jungkook by the stove. He looked stunned.

“Welcome home, Y/N,” he said with a soft smile.

You were panting and before you knew it you were running towards him and pulling him into a tight hug. Jungkook stumbled back slightly as you clung to him.

Memories of you younger brother being sick and needing you, but you were never there flashed through your mind... You couldn’t think about him. Not now...

Jungkook looked at you with confusion swimming in his eyes. You were trembling. What had happened when you were at work? Did someone upset you? Anger ripped through Jungkook faster than he thought was possible. Who hurt you? Who hurt someone who had done so much for another person?

You didn’t have to save him like you did. He didn’t know you and you didn’t know him. Sure he was helping you out by getting your mother off your back, but other than that, what was he contributing? Not much...

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Kang Woo... I’m so sorry,” you breathed into his chest.

Kang Woo? Who was Kang Woo? Is that the person that upset you at work?

“Y/N? Y/N are you okay?” Jungkook asked, pulling you away from him so he could look at you. Your cheeks were puffy and eyes were red. You had started to cry.

Nothing made sense. You weren’t like this. Nothing made you cry or made you upset. You were tough as nails and strong. Confidence was as easy as breathing to you. Your abundance of charisma and pluck were some of the things that Jungkook liked about you. But seeing you in this state enraged him.

“Yeah, sorry... I-I don’t know what came over me,” you whispered, rubbing at your eyes. “Long day at work and I guess I just needed to cry it out,” you explained. Jungkook wasn’t sure he believed you, but he let it go not wanting to upset you further.

“Okay, sorry that work wasn’t the greatest...” he tried, wanting to make you feel better.

“It’s fine,” you said before giving Jungkook a stern look. “What the hell was with you this morning?” you asked, poking his chest angrily.

“What do you mean?” he retorted, leaning back against the countertop.

“You were asleep and sweating and-and I thought that you were sick so I left my phone number next to the couch and I was waiting all day for you to call but you never did so-” you took a deep inhale and continued. “I thought something really bad was happening to you so I was useless today!” you complained.

Jungkook seemed to think about it for a moment.

“Whatever it was I feel fine now, don’t worry, okay?” he said giving you a smile. You wanted to argue with him, tell him that he should be resting and that you would take care of him. But, something told you not to fight him. He would be okay.

“Alright, but if you do start to feel unwell, please let me know okay?” you pleaded. Jungkook nodded and patted your head and headed towards the living room. You watched him go and sit down before you phone beeped.

New Message:

1-334-083-7345

We know you have him. We’re coming to get him. You’ll regret taking that mutt into your home.

Watch yourself, Y/N...

*Please don’t ask about updates. Thank You.

[simplejjs]

Chapter 2 of My Reveal Story

Oh, man, I have so much work to do!  Have any of you guys seen that one funny comic someone drew, of a stick figure running along, with a sign post to the far right reading, “Life Goals” and a huge hole between the figure and the sign, with “MLB” at the bottom of the hole?  Jeesh, that is totally me!

So here’s the next chapter.  :-)  I know that that “Cat’s got your tongue” pun has been (over)used by this fandom, but I really truly would most likely have put it in there on my own even without other people’s comics putting the thought in my head.  But apologies if it seems tired to you.  :-)  It fit precisely!

I’m so happy to see that others are liking my story!  Enjoy!    

p.s.  I wrote in my first post that there were 4 chapters.  What was I thinking?  there are 5!

My Reveal Story    Chapter 2  (by JJ Sprinkle)

Marinette was bent over her desk struggling for the thousandth time to pull her mind back to the Math homework in front of her, when Tikki suddenly whizzed before her face and cried, “Marinette!  I think Cat Noir is trying to reach you!  You have to transform!”

“What?” Marinette lifted her head, surprised.

“I - I can *feel* it!  I think he’s using his baton to try to contact you.”

Without hesitation, Marinette jumped up and cried, “Tikki, Spots on!”  A bright light enveloped her, and the familiar weightless, spinning feeling washed over her.  Within a breath, the floor re-solidified beneath her feet, and she felt her body encased in her soft, supple red suit  Immediately her magic yoyo chimed, and Marinette flipped it open.

“What’s wrong?” Ladybug cried without preliminary.

Cat Noir’s wide grin greeted her words, “Bugaboo!  Nothing’s wrong, but I had an idea, and I didn’t know how else to contact you.”

“No akumas?” Ladybug confirmed.  At Cat Noir’s nod, she relaxed, and smiled back.  “What’s up, Kitty?”

Cat Noir could feel his heartbeat speeding up.  After spending the day making Marinette nervous, Adrien just wanted to spend a little time relaxing with his Ladybug.  He knew he’d be able to joke and flirt with her, without Ladybug stumbling, stuttering, and making them both anxious.  He just wanted to hang out with his friend, but never before had they spent time without primarily chasing an akuma’s victim.  Now he was hoping to change all that.  “So I was thinking we ought to start patrolling periodically, to try to catch Hawkmoth’s victims before they do too much damage.  And also,” he added, thinking that might not be enough to pull Marinette from her homework, “if we can find an akuma before it gets to its victim, maybe we can trace back where they come from and find Hawkmoth’s lair.”  He grinned a little nervously, and rubbed his neck.  “Whaddya think, MiLady?”

Ladybug bit her lip and thought to herself, ‘I think that I wish *I* had thought of it.’ Nodding to the screen however, Ladybug replied, “Pretty clever, Kitty!  Finally we could find Hawkmoth!  You want to meet right now?  Where?”

“Let’s meet at the top of the Eiffel Tower, where Guitar Villain fought XY.”

“Okay!” Ladybug agreed.  “Bug out!”  She clicked shut her yoyo, then surveyed her room.  She still had half of her Math homework to finish, and she was supposed to start an essay for History.  “It’s not like I was getting anything done anyway,” she muttered.  So, leaping up to her sleeping loft, Marinette placed a pillow under the covers to fool her parents in case they checked, and then flipped off the lights.  Letting herself out onto the roof garden, Ladybug felt the familiar thrill as she threw her yoyo to the opposite roofline, and leaped off into the night.

Ladybug and Cat Noir arrived at the Eiffel Tower almost simultaneously.  

“Good evening, MiLady,” Cat Noir swept Ladybug a grand bow.

“I’m glad you thought of this, Cat Noir!” Ladybug replied, all business.  She took a moment to survey Paris, and to her side, Cat Noir took a moment to survey her.  The soft lights of Paris highlighted the slope of her shoulder and the curve of her hips, emphasizing her delicate waist.  For a moment, Cat Noir dreamt of placing one hand possessively around her waist and pulling her next to him as they looked out over the cityscape.

Instead, Cat Noir stepped up to the railing next to her.  He wrapped his gloved hands over the railing as the night’s wind shuddered the iron structure.  “I thought we could divide the city into quadrants and take one quadrant a night.”

“You really have put thought into this, haven’t you Chaton?” Ladybug asked, impressed.  She added, “I don’t think I can come out every night though.  I … I have…” Ladybug weighed how much to give away about herself, “I have homework, and parents.”

Cat Noir smiled into the night, thinking fondly, and more than a little enviously, of Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng.  “I have homework too.  Maybe we could do this every other night.  Let’s just play it by-” he flicked his cat ears back and forth, “-ear.”

Ladybug smiled at his antics, then tossing her yoyo into the pitchy darkness below, she said, “Let’s do the Northwest quadrant tonight,” and swung down the tower.  Cat Noir was quick on her heels, jumping and vaulting from one strut to the next, until they reached the ground.

The two leaped across the rooflines of Paris, generally Ladybug taking the lead but sometimes Cat Noir calling directions.  They criss-crossed avenues and alleyways, swinging past the Arc de Triomphe, hopscotching lamp posts on the Champs Elysee, and heading ultimately for the Sacre Coeur.  Ladybug lost herself in the glorious freedom of flying between the buildings. The wind whistled in her ears, and pulled at her pigtails.  She felt like finally she was leaving the clumsiness and confusion of the day behind her as she sped through the night.

In fact, Cat Noir was struggling a bit to keep up with her.  He doubted she was actually watching out for akumas, but rather seemed to be racing herself through the night.

“Hold up, Lightning bug!” Cat Noir called as they approached the Tuileries.  Ladybug landed lightly on the gravel near a large round fountain, and Cat Noir came to rest beside her.  Both were panting.

“I’m not sure we’re going to see any akumas when we race through the streets that way, MiLady.”

Ladybug looked down at her feet, and hesitated before agreeing.  Then she kicked a pebble across the wide path and said, “Sorry, Cat.  I guess I wasn’t really looking.  It just felt so good to go fast.”  She kicked at another pebble.

Cat Noir put one hand on her shoulder and asked, “Are you okay, Bugaboo?  Bad day?”

Ladybug laughed a little, and shrugging his hand off her shoulder, replied, “No, just the opposite actually.  C’mon, I’ll be slower,” and shooting her yoyo ahead of her, she took off again.

Cat Noir sighed, thinking he should be happy, but in fact feeling a little bereft.  Extending his baton, he took off after her.

Ladybug was more assiduous this time, carefully choosing the route with the most efficient perspective, and more precisely transversing the area.  Cat Noir also stayed professional, pushing his desire to tease and flirt to the back of his mind for the moment.

Finally they came to rest at the Sacre Coeur.  Ladybug chose a smaller dome for them to perch upon, with the view of the city spread out at their feet.  It was small enough that, as they sat, their shoulders rubbed each other’s.  They were panting again.

The two sat in companionable silence, feeling the cool breeze and listening to the muted sounds of Paris at their feet.  The muffled sounds of cars gunning their motors at green lights, and honking at slower motorists, the disjointed singing from a bar somewhere in Montmartre, a girl laughing, solo footsteps… The distant sounds added life to the twinkling city lights.

Ladybug sighed just as Cat Noir said, “I love this city.”

Giggling at their parallel thoughts, Ladybug said, “I do too.”

“So, MiLady,” Cat Noir turned to Ladybug and leaned back on his arms, “You had a good day?  I know a way we could make it even better…” and he playfully waggled his eyebrows beneath his mask.

Pushing lightly on his shoulder with her index finger, Ladybug laughed and said, “Oh, Cat.  You cannot make my day any better than it was!”

“Care to make that a bet?” Cat Noir asked flirtatiously.

“No!” Ladybug answered a little quickly, a blush staining her cheeks.  ‘Hmmm…’ Cat Noir thought to himself, encouraged, but Ladybug’s next words deflated him.  “I mean, there’s a boy at school that I’ve liked for a long time, and today he… Well, he just paid a lot of attention to me.  There’s nothing you could do that could top that.”

“MiLady, you wound me!” Cat Noir dramatically placed one hand over his heart.  Then, narrowing his eyes at her, he said, “You’re not going to tell me about my rival, are  you? This is a cat-astrophe!” and grinned.

Shaking her head at his silly pun, Ladybug replied, “Your rival?  Pfft!”

Cat Noir leaned down and butted her shoulder with his head, cat-style, and teased, “So I’m still the first in your heart, Bugaboo?”

“Seriously, Cat Noir, I really do like this boy.  I’m… I’m sorry…”

Cat Noir kept his head down so that Ladybug couldn’t see his smile.  Schooling his expression, he then looked up at Ladybug and asked, “Is he strong?”

“What?” Ladybug asked, surprised.

“Is he strong?  Is he as strong as me?” and he flexed his biceps to emphasize his question.

Laughing again, Ladybug said, “Of course not!  You’re a superhero!”

“So he’s not as strong as you, either,” Cat Noir pointed out.  A peculiar look crossed Ladybug’s face.  “Does he fight bad guys?”

Pressing her lips together, a tiny bit cross, Ladybug said, “Like you, you mean?”

“Like *us*, MiLady, like *us*.”  Cat Noir moved his hand on top of hers.  Ladybug pulled her hand away, and crossed her arms.

“No,” she replied, a little grumpily, “he doesn’t fight bad guys.”  She tried not to rise to Cat Noir’s bait, but finally said defensively, “Look, he’s just a nice, smart, kind guy.”

“Is he cute?” Cat Noir asked, and shaking his golden, silky hair, knowing that even the dim lights of the night cityscape would catch his natural highlights, Cat Noir gazed at Ladybug with the most appealing expression in his emerald green eyes.  He added, “Is he as cute as me?”

Relaxing again, Ladybug uncrossed her arms and waved her hand dismissively, “Oh please!  Much cuter!  He’s a model!”

Cat Noir shook his head and tsk’ed.  “So let me get this straight.”  Raising one hand, he ticked off his points on his fingers, “You like a boy who is kinda weak, merely nice, but certainly gorgeous.  Huh.  I didn’t realize you were so won over by surface appeal, MiLady.  I would have spent more time on my appearance,” he teased.

Ladybug was back to sputtering defensively, “Cat, that’s not what I meant!  He’s… he’s… also really smart, and thoughtful, and he has a crummy dad, and…” she petered out, uncertain how to explain Adrien to Cat Noir.  He was earnest and kind, not showy but genuine.  He did not flirt incessantly.  He was… breathtaking.

Cat Noir interrupted her thoughts with more flirting.  In a persuasive tone he suggested, “You could date us both and then make a more informed decision.  I’m not afraid of the competition!”

“Cat Noir!”

Leaning forward, almost conspiratorily, Cat Noir added, “I even bet that I’m the better kisser!”

Immediately the image of Cat Noir looming over her, threatening her with his Cataclysm, popped into Ladybug’s mind, along with her memories of pulling his face to hers and kissing him deeply.  To this day, he did not even know.

Cat Noir watched Ladybug go absolutely still, and then her face turn a bright, bright pink.  At her silence, he grinned, “Cat got your tongue?”

As if burned, Ladybug jumped to her feet and shot out her yoyo to the main dome of the cathedral, “Okay, I’m done.  Goodnight, Cat Noir!”

Cat Noir bent over, laughing hilariously.  He wasn’t quite sure why his last outrageous comment had been the final straw for Ladybug, but clearly it was.  Gasping for breath, Cat Noir jumped up to chase after her, still chuckling.

“Wait, wait Ladybug!” he called.

Ladybug did pause, standing silhouetted at the peak of Sacre Coeur’s dome.  Cat Noir leaped up to her, but Ladybug kept her body stiff and her back turned to him.  “I’m sorry, Bugaboo!” he said sincerely, although humor still shaded his tone.  “I didn’t meant to tease!”  He got down on one knee and grabbed her hand in his.  Ladybug finally softened enough to look at him.  He gallantly kissed the back of her hand and promised, “I won’t tease you again.”  Then, he thought better of it and said, “Well, at least I promise to *try* not to tease you again!”  Ladybug pulled her hand out of his grasp.

Rising, Cat Noir asked contritely, “Friends?” and held out his hand.

Pursing her lips, Ladybug glowered at Cat Noir for a moment but then relented.  She grasped his hand with hers and echoed, “Friends.”  They shook.

Cat Noir let go of her hand and pulled out his baton.  “I guess it’s time to call it a night.  Meet to patrol the evening after tomorrow, right?  Same time, same place?”

“Uh, right,” Ladybug replied, somewhat bemused by Cat Noir’s sudden, professional tone.

“Okay, see you then!” he said.  Extending his baton, Cat Noir turned to vault off the building, only to look over his shoulder at Ladybug, “But I *do* think you should date us both.  Goodnight!” and he leaped off into the night.

Ladybug was caught off guard with his last comment, and couldn’t gather her wits quickly enough to get the last word in.  She was left sputtering, alone, with the image of dating both Adrien and Cat Noir stuck in her mind.  

Grumpily she made her way home.

To Be Continued...!  (By JJ Sprinkle)

Up Next: https://simplejjs.tumblr.com/post/166650261515/chapter-3-of-my-reveal-story 

[ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut]

O Fortuna Chapter 8: No More Running

Karin: Hi guys! Here with another chapter! Last chapter seemed to have confused some people on why Alya acted out like that, and I took inspiration from her episode with Lady Wifi and how she acted in Origins that she seems to have a rigid sense of justice when it comes to heroes and how people should act. As seen in Lady Wifi, she doesn’t like unfair bullshit and being treated unfairly or used and I think that if Alya was Ladybug, she would get annoyed that someone was using her for their own gain whereas Marinette got mad Lila was using it to get closer to Adrien. She also is overprotective of her friends and she was mad that Adrien was about to reveal their identities without consulting her or considering what could happen afterwards.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Miraculous.

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

“Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.”

― William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

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

Chapter Eight: No More Running

Lila sniffled as she walked along the street, clutching the broken necklace in her hands. Her teary eyes caught a poster of Ladybug and she snarled at the offending poster.

“Stupid Ladybug! She ruined my chances with Adrien!” Lila wanted to rip the poster in two. “What does she know about being a hero anyway? She abuses her power to attack people when she doesn’t like them! What kind of hero is that?”

Suddenly, a black butterfly flew towards the necklace, zapping it together with an eerie black aura. A voice spoke in Lila’s head, and she found it to be soothing against the fury and shame she felt.

“Voplina…” the voice spoke eloquently. “I hear your cries. Ladybug humiliated you in front of the boy you like. Perhaps it’s time a new hero stepped in to show her how a real hero should act.”

A purple glowing butterfly mask appeared in front of her face, and Lila’s eyes glinted maliciously.

“Sure, Hawkmoth. I’ll show her how it’s done.”

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

Marinette wondered if she perhaps had taken up banging her head against the tree trunk after all, and knocked herself out because she was sure she didn’t have this much bad luck in one day, did she?

“Marinette! Stop staring at it and swat it away!” Chloe ordered, still clutching onto Marinette tightly. Duusu just gave them a watery gaze, the rejection fresh in her eyes.

Alas, yes, apparently she did.

Marinette made a noise of displeasure and promptly dropped Chloe on her butt. Chloe thumped against the ground with a shriek, and Marinette pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Duusu surveyed her new master cautiously, not sure how she was going to react to seeing her again, but Marinette continued muttering to herself.

“What was that for?!” Chloe exclaimed, raising from the ground to give Marinette hell. “Do you know who my father is?! I’ll have you know these clothes are worth more than your parents’ bakery, Marinette, and you got them dirty—”

She stopped ranting immediately when Marinette’s eyes snapped open to glare at her, the color glinting brilliantly against her features. Chloe felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Chloe, I’m going to say this once, and only once.” Marinette started, her bad mood from today overflowing. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about who your father is or how much your clothes are worth or even about you in general; so, please, for just a little bit, shut the fuck up.”

Chloe gaped at her like a fish, and Marinette turned to her second issue, the blue kwami watching her in fear. Her feet itched to run away, to leave the kwami behind, but she found herself frozen as she looked into Duusu’s eyes. The sadness. The agony. And Marinette found she was seeing herself reflected in those eyes. Guilt crawled up to squeeze her heart, and Marinette suddenly realized how cruel she had been to Duusu. She could hear a voice in her mind that sounded like Tikki reprimanding on how harsh she was to her and Duusu. She was a hypocrite.

She abandoned Duusu like she herself was afraid of being abandoned because of the things she did. Unlike her though, Duusu couldn’t change how she was involved with the Miraculous. Kwamis didn’t have a choice to be inactive. It was their masters that called all the shots.

‘I’m the worst…’ Marinette mourned, her shoulders dropping. ‘I’ve been so selfish that I haven’t considered how Tikki or Duusu feel at my rejection. I only cared about my own fears.’

“Duusu…” Marinette called, and the peacock kwami perked up, surprise at her holder acknowledging her. “Why are you here? I… I’m sorry but I can’t accept your miraculous. Monsieur Agreste made a mistake. I know you awakened because of me… but trust me, I’m not good for you. I’ll only weigh you down…” Marinette explained softly. Duusu looked at her in sorrow.

“That’s not true, Master. I came alive because I felt your conviction and beliefs. You are truly meant for a miraculous. Gabriel doesn’t make mistakes.” Duusu said, just as soft, and the two found their individual despairs linking on the same level, each saddened that the other couldn’t seem to agree with their sentiments.

“Um… sorry but what’s this thing, Marinette? Why is it calling you Master? Also, what’s this about Adrien’s dad?” Chloe interrupted, wary that Marinette would rain wraith upon her again. For someone who was closed off and quiet, she didn’t expect Marinette to have such a fiery temper. “You all keep mentioning something called a miraculous…” Chloe trailed off. Marinette and Duusu turned to her, both just remembering she was there.

“Marinette is my chosen.” Duusu supplied, stating it as if it was fact. Marinette winced.

“Chloe…” Marinette hesitated, not sure what to say or how much to say. “You know how Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Hawkmoth have items called Miraculous, right?” Chloe hmphed and flipped her hair.

“You mean those gaudy pieces of jewelry they wear? Yeah, not something I would personally wear.” Chloe crossed her arms.

“Well, they are what make them… well them.” Marinette replied. “They need those jewelry pieces in order to transform and be their other personas.”

“Master, are you sure you should be telling her this?” Duusu questioned, shocked at how her chosen was just informing Chloe everything. Marinette shrugged.

“Well, nothing can be done about it now. Let’s take you back to Monsieur Agreste, ASAP.” Marinette said, grabbing her bag from the ground. “Besides, she’ll just follow me everywhere screaming like a banshee if I don’t give her some information.”

“Rude! I do not sound like a banshee!” Chloe huffed. Duusu giggled, but stopped as if she realized something.

“Oh! Master, I forgot! I was trailing Adrien Agreste because he has something really important of Gabriel’s! Something that can’t be replaced!” Duusu began panicking.

“You mean like a piece of jewelry?” Marinette raised an eyebrow. Duusu shook her head.

“No, it is a book! An ancient book that holds many secrets about the Miraculous! It can’t fall into the wrong hands.” Duusu fretted. Chloe and Marinette looked at her and then at each other.

“I remember Adrien reading a book in the library when he was with Lila.” Marinette recalled.

“What happened to it?” Chloe asked, curious. Marinette had a pensive expression, tapping her chin with her finger.

“Let’s see… that’s right! Lila took it! And then—gah!” Marinette gasped as it suddenly hit her. She raced over to the trash can, retrieving the tome. Chloe blanched.

“You’re actually touching that thing after it’s been in the trash?” Chloe looked green at the thought of touching trash. Marinette rolled her eyes, wiping the book off with her scarf.

“Relax. It’s fine. Clothes can be washed and so can skin.” Marinette turned to Duusu. “Alright, we have the book, now let’s return you and it to Monsieur Agreste.”

“You won’t be going to claim my Miraculous?” Duusu asked sadly. Marinette looked at her with a pained expression, feeling awful for disappointing yet another kwami. She gently picked Duusu out of the air and placed her in her scarf.

“Let’s get you back.” Marinette replied, not wanting to give Duusu false hope, but also not wanting to be mean like she was before.

“Hold on, I’m coming too.” Chloe claimed. Marinette watched her with wide eyes. Chloe scoffed at her expression. “You can’t expect me to go home and forget all about this, can you? I want answers on why Adrien is being so secretive! Something’s not right here!” Chloe crossed her arms. Marinette sighed and starting walking, gesturing her to follow.

“Fine, but no more screeching. You’ll attract attention.”

“Hmph! I do not screech.”

Duusu giggled at the new banshee lady arguing with her master. Clearly, she doesn’t pay attention to how she speaks.

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

Alya glared at the scene below her from the Eiffel Tower. The wind rustled her hair gently while she hugged her knees close to her chest.

“Stupid Nino, stupid Marinette, stupid Lila, stupid Adrien…” she grumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “and stupid Ladybug!” she hissed at the thought of the previous Ladybug. Her lips quivered as she kept hearing Adrien’s jab in her mind. She groaned and banged on her head a couple of times. “Dammit! He’s got me thinking about her! Tikki told us not to dwell on her and here I am doing just that!”

‘But clearly Adrien hasn’t been listening so why should you?’ her mind grumbled. She pulled on her loose hair and let out a yell of frustration. She wanted to hit something! Perhaps she had been cruel, but hadn’t Adrien been crueler to attack her at her insecurities? He knew of her feelings of being second best—the doubt in her mind at not being chosen originally like he had been.

She knew she shouldn’t wonder on the what ifs or the hows like Tikki told her, but she couldn’t help her curiosity. Why exactly did she get a miraculous? What had the previous Ladybug been thinking at the time when she chose her to take her place? Alya wondered if she knew her. How did the previous Ladybug know she was meant for the job? Was it just a fluke and she chose a random person, or was it because the previous Ladybug saw something in her?

Alya remembered the first time she opened the box to the Ladybug Miraculous. She remembered the crestfallen face of Tikki as the kwami informed her she was the new hero of Paris. Alya had been ecstatic at the thought of saving Paris. She was so grateful to the previous Ladybug for giving her this chance that she took up the previous one’s title in her honor. To honor Ladybug’s greatness for choosing the right hero for Paris.

And then she remembered meeting up with Chat Noir. The absolute confusion and sorrow on his face when he saw her and not his original Ladybug. What had Adrien felt when Alya told him the previous Ladybug wasn’t coming back? Was he that distraught by his Ladybug’s disappearance that he still thought about it to this very day? Was Alya not good enough to be his partner? To be his friend? If he still thought about the previous Ladybug, then perhaps she hadn’t been good enough at either of those things. Her amber eyes stung, unshed tears hanging in them, making them glisten.

“It’s not fair!” she cried, burying her head in her knees. “Why did she have to leave? Why didn’t she at least tell me why, so I wouldn’t be here second guessing myself? Why had she chosen me?” her voice cracked.

Because if Chat—Adrien—didn’t think she was good enough, then how could the previous Ladybug think she was good enough to take up her mantle?

She was sure if she released her transformation, Tikki would tell her things like not to worry about it or think on these thoughts, but it was too late. Adrien had found the perfect crack in her armor and broke it into pieces. It was too late to forget about it now.

However, before she could mourn any further, a light from the sky caught her attention. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the meteor tumbling towards Paris.

“Not good!” she flicked her yoyo into action and flew towards the trouble.

Unfortunately for her, someone else beat her to it.

Another masked superhero jumped in front of the meteor, banishing it away. The crowds of people cheered in relief at the threat being defused. The masked hero looked like an orange fox, with her pointed ears, scarfed tail, and orange bodysuit. Her eyes shined with a mischievous charm.

“People of Paris! Never fear for I am Volpina and I am here to protect you better than Ladybug and Chat Noir ever could!” she shouted, spreading her arms. The crowds below chanted her name over and over making Volpina smirk. Alya just blinked in confusion.

“What the…?” Deciding to be cautious, she approached the new hero quietly. She took a defensive stance just in case she turned out to be a threat. “Who are you?” she demanded. Volpina simply smirked and flicked her hair.

“I told you—I am Volpina! I’m the new hero!” she stared right into Ladybug’s eyes and Alya wanted to squirm. “I told you I was for real. I came to help fight against Hawkmoth.” Ladybug’s eyes widened.

“Lila?!” she exclaimed. How is this possible? She broke the necklace in half. A Miraculous wouldn’t be so easily destroyed. Lila—or Volpina—simply giggled and flicked some dust off her shoulder.

“You failed my test—I was purposefully telling Adrien about me to get your attention, and you went ballistic with the fake Miraculous I had.” Volpina’s eyes narrow. “Not very smart for a hero, are you?”

Ladybug bristled at the jab. Her teeth gritted in her mouth.

“I was protecting a civilian from a liar.” Volpina looked unimpressed.

“Oh really? Well looks at us now. I’m Volpina and I’m here. Guess your lie detector isn’t as good as you thought, now is it?” Ladybug winced at her tone, guilt and shame filling her at realizing Lila was right. She was here now, and clearly a superhero, which means that Alya was a jerk for nothing. Her shoulders slumped. She really felt like a bad person now.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. You clearly have proven your persona.” Ladybug conceded. Volpina grinned smugly and walked over to Ladybug, looping an arm around her shoulder.

“That’s the spirit! Now, onto more important things.” Volpina turned serious. “I believe I know the location of Hawkmoth’s lair.” Ladybug’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?! Where is it?” Alya grabbed her arm. Volpina chuckled and slipped out of her hold. She gestured Ladybug to follow her.

“Over here! This way!”

“Wait… shouldn’t we call Chat?” Alya questioned. She took out her compact and began to phone him. Volpina slapped her hand on the compact and giggled.

“Us girls can handle it, I’m sure! Besides, don’t you wanna show Chat at how great of a hero you are?” Volpina beckoned. Alya looked down at her compact pensively, recalling at how Adrien lashed out at her. His faith in her being a hero seemed to diminish marginally. She had to prove to him she was meant for the position of Ladybug!

She had to make him forget about the previous Ladybug…

“Alright.” Ladybug agreed, putting her compact away. “Let’s go.”

Volpina smiled good naturedly and they were off.

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

Adrien had arrived home a while ago, having locked himself in his room in order to cool off. Plagg watched him pace back and forth in frustration while the kwami munched on his favorite cheese. He swallowed, making a loud gulping sound.

“What’s the big deal? So you and Alya had a fight. It happens.” Plagg chimed in. Adrien shook his head.

“Yeah, but this was something really big, Plagg.” Adrien responded, rustling his golden hair. “Alya really acted out, and then I went and let my anger get the best of me and really hurt her. We both were wrong.”

“Well maybe she needs to hear it so she can stop being so much of a tight ass when it comes to how a hero should behave.” Plagg chomped on another piece of cheese. Adrien glared at him.

“Plagg! That’s mean.”

“Well it’s not my fault you subconsciously compare her to the previous Ladybug all the time. You’re always saying ‘oh we’re such a great team but if we had the other Ladybug we’d be better’ or ‘I wonder what the other Ladybug would do in this situation’… you’re like a broken record at times after akuma encounters.” Plagg explained. Adrien looked at the floor in shame.

“I didn’t…”

“Face it, kid. You’ve been holding onto the notion that Alya isn’t your Ladybug behind her back ever since she showed up with the earrings.” Plagg scolded. Adrien wanted to the floor to open and swallow him up. Guilt welled up within him, unleashing the hurt and abandonment he felt from the first Ladybug leaving him behind without any explanation.

“Alya is a great Ladybug…” Adrien protested weakly in order to defend himself. Plagg pinned a serious stare at him, his green eyes seeing right through his chosen.

“But she’s not your Ladybug.”

Ashamed at Plagg’s statement, Adrien stopped pacing and sat on his couch, thinking to himself. Guilty that Plagg was right, he sighed and rubbed his temples.

“I just… I can’t help it… Ladybug was chosen like I was. I felt a connection with her. Yeah, Alya’s great and we work great, but it’s not…”

“It’s not like you’re in sync like it’s second nature.” Plagg supplied for him.

“Yeah…” Adrien admitted. Plagg contemplated telling him the truth behind the Ladybug and Cat miraculous, but knew it would only cause his chosen more distress at learning that Ladybug and Chat Noir were two halves of a whole, and therefore that is why he felt such a strong connection with her. It wouldn’t be good to weigh him down with more abandonment issues, and frankly a depressed Adrien was a whiny Adrien, and Plagg did not enjoy a whiny Adrien.

Also, he didn’t think he could bare the look of absolute despair at knowing Adrien lost his other half. Despite how he acted, Adrien was precious to him. His kitten mattered to him.

And so Plagg kept it to himself.

“I owe Alya an apology…” Adrien voiced out, rubbing his neck. “She didn’t… she doesn’t deserve to be named as second best as my partner in my mind. Even if she was wrong, I went too far with comparing her to Ladybug.” He concluded. Plagg hummed.

“I would advise you to talk to her how you feel. It will do your partnership and friendship good to be honest about these things.” Plagg advised. Adrien gave him a tired smile and scratched behind Plagg’s ear. Plagg, in response, purred.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I always am.”

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

“How much longer are we going to go?” Ladybug asked Volpina, as they traveled further and further from the populace. Volpina gave her a smile. Alya had to admit that it was smart of Hawkmoth to be hidden among the outskirts of Paris.

“Don’t worry, just a little longer.” Volpina promised as they went deeper into the woods. They stopped in a clearing, and Volpina turned to her.

“I’ll see if the coast is clear first before we both head in, okay?” Volpina volunteered. Alya furrowed her brow in confusion.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for us to go in together?” Ladybug questioned. Volpina shook her head.

“We can’t afford you getting captured. Hawkmoth is after your Miraculous, so it would be better not to risk you.” Volpina reasoned. With that, she went off ahead, leaving Ladybug in the clearing. Alya fidgeted, keeping her yoyo close to her, apprehension holding her.

So this was it… she was going to face Hawkmoth.

She wondered what Adrien will say when she defeats Hawkmoth. This is what they’ve worked for, finally coming to fruition. A part of her was saddened though, that he wasn’t here to fight with her. However, she knew this was something she had to do so she could prove to him that she was meant to be the true Ladybug.

Rustling caught her attention, and Alya’s eyes widened when she caught sight of Chat Noir coming out of the forest.

“Chat! What are you doing here?” she asked. Yet, she was caught off guard when Chat Noir glowered at her.

“I see you’re too busy to give me a call.” Chat snarled. He stepped forward more, making Alya feel uneasy. “What kind of partner are you? Some hero you are—you don’t even tell me we’re going after Hawkmoth.”

“Wha…?” Alya voiced out. “How did you know?” she asked. Chat Noir advanced on her, and Alya found herself taking steps back from him.

“I saw you and the new hero together! Are you replacing me too? Am I not good enough for a partner?” Chat hissed.

“No, Chat! How could you think that? I just wanted to prove to you I was a good hero!” Alya protested. Chat laughed mirthlessly.

“You? A good hero? Yeah right. I’d be so much better off without you.” Chat charged at her, baton raised and Alya hurriedly dodged. She readied her yoyo and flew away from him.

“Chat! What are you doing?” Alya yelled. Chat smirked.

“Getting rid of you of course.”

With that, he went after her and Alya flew away. She ran into the forest with Chat Noir in pursuit. Her mind was racing.

‘What the hell is going on?! This isn’t Chat at all!’ Alya panicked. She ran as fast as she could, as Chat destroyed whatever was in his path to get to her. ‘Did Hawkmoth do something to him?!’

She skidded to a stop, coming face to face with a cliff, and she turned to see Chat zeroing in on her.

“Chat, listen to me! Hawkmoth is controlling you! I’m your friend remember!” she backed up, finding herself at the edge. Chat smirked, the cruelty shining in his eyes looking so alien on him. “Volpina! Help!” Alya called.

“It’s just us here, Ladybug.” Chat grinned maliciously. “It’s time Paris got its real hero.”

With that, he charged and shoved her off the cliff. Alya screamed, feeling the pull of gravity weighing her down to the ground, and flung her yoyo out to save herself. Her yoyo caught and she found herself coming to a stop, the force of the pull causing her arm to dislocate. Alya cried in agony at the pain. Tears came to her eyes as she gritted her teeth. She raised her other hand to grip the wire of her yoyo as she hung off the cliff. A giggle sounded above her, and Alya bit through the pain to look up. Instead of Chat, there stood Volpina, grinning like a cat that just ensnared the canary in her trap.

“Honestly, you’re so gullible! And here I thought fooling you would actually be a challenge.” Volpina sneered. Alya clenched her teeth, anger rising within her at the betrayal becoming clear.

“You tricked me!”

“Yes, but you just made it so easy.” Volpina teased. “Now if you excuse me, I’ll be off to claim my prize before coming back to get your Miraculous.” Suddenly, a purple butterfly mask appeared in front of her face, obviously showing the displeasure of Hawkmoth at her statement. “Calm down, Hawkmoth! You’ll get your Miraculous! But for now, it’s my time to shine!” with that, Volpina left Alya hanging there. Alya struggled against the wire, trying in vain to pull herself up. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes, hurt consuming her.

‘I can’t believe I fell for her tricks!’ Alya cursed herself. She began pulling herself up slowly, slipping on the wire. ‘I have to warn Chat! Lila is going to go after him next!’

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

Marinette felt her nerves overflow as she stood in front of the gates to the Agreste mansion. Her fingers shook as she pressed the call button to the intercom.

“Hello, what is it?” Natalie’s voice drifted through the speakers.

“H-hi, we’re here to see Monsieur Agreste.” Marinette anxiously said. “We have something of his.” She added. The camera examined her and Chloe, and Marinette felt the skepticism through the lens. She wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Monsieur Agreste is very busy.” Natalie said.

“It’s important.” Marinette stressed. “He’ll want to see us.”

“Very well.” The camera disappeared and the gates opened. Marinette and Chloe sighed in relief. Duusu peeked out from Marinette’s scarf.

“Okay, now we’ll return his book and be on our way.” Marinette announced. Chloe glared.

“Wait! Just like that? I want an explanation here!” Chloe stamped her foot.  

‘So would I, actually…’ Marinette shook her head at that and chose to ignore Chloe, making her way across the courtyard to the front doors. Surprisingly, it was Gabriel who slammed open the door. He must have heard from Natalie who exactly was trying to meet with him. His icy blue eyes widened at seeing Marinette right at his doorstep; however, when he caught sight of Chloe, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Marinette… how can I help you?” Gabriel spoke, not giving any of his thoughts away. Nevertheless, he was even more shocked when Duusu revealed herself from Marinette’s scarf. Duusu looked guilty, fiddling her paws.

“I… Gabriel, I’m sorry.” Duusu told him with remorse. Gabriel quickly gestured them inside, to which the three followed sweet.

“Come this way.” He gestured to his office. Once they were shut securely inside the room, he swiftly turned to them in outrage.

“Duusu! What have you done?” he demanded for answers. Marinette jumped to Duusu’s defense.

“It wasn’t her fault, Monsieur Agreste! She accidentally found me and Chloe together. It couldn’t be helped.” Marinette explained. Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Duusu, what were you doing out in the open like that? You’ve could’ve been seen by anyone.” He scolded the kwami, but there was no bite to it like before.

“I was following Adrien.” Duusu confessed. “I saw him take the Miraculous book away from your safe and I knew I had to go after him to get it back.” Marinette brought out the tome and Gabriel hurriedly retrieved it, surveying it for any damage, panic clear in his eyes.

“It’s fine, Monsieur Agreste.” Marinette told him gently. “A girl stole it from Adrien and we found it in the trash can, but nothing was damaged.”

“I see.” Gabriel noted.

“Sooo… am I going to get any kind of explanation here?” Chloe decided then that she needed to speak, tapping her foot loudly. Gabriel seemed to have just realized she was there and replied with silence. This made Chloe growl and start yelling, “I know Adrien knows Ladybug! And you gave Marinette some kind of mutant bird that can make her like Ladybug and Chat Noir! How do you know all of this stuff?! Are you guys part of some secret agency?! Tell me already!”

“Mademoiselle Bourgeois.” Gabriel spoke coldly, in a tone that anyone with a brain would know not to cross him, and Chloe squeaked. “Will you kindly lower your voice? My assistant doesn’t have a clue of what we’re discussing, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“We’re not discussing anything.” Marinette claimed, gesturing Duusu to return to Gabriel, “We’ve just come back to give Duusu and the book back to you. We’ll be leaving now.”

“Marinette, if you would only listen—”

“Monsieur, with all due respect, you have chosen the wrong person. I know Duusu says you don’t make mistakes, but trust me when I say this is the one time you made a bad judgement call.” Marinette dismissed it, frowning.

Before Gabriel could protest, the door to his office slammed open and a frantic Natalie appeared.

“Monsieur Gabriel! Adrien’s in danger!”

Duusu had hidden in Marinette’s scarf, as the three people gave off an expression of alarm, and raced to follow Natalie to Adrien’s room.”

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

Adrien’s eyes were wide as he looked upon the fox hero. She was smiling graciously at him and gave a coy wink.

“Hello, handsome boy!” she greeted. He could feel Plagg squirm inside his shirt. “What do you think of my superhero outfit? Cute, no?” she teased.

“Um… it’s very nice.” He blinked confused. The heroine giggled.

“Adrien! It’s me, Lila!” she grinned.

“Wha—Lila?!” Adrien exclaimed. Lila turned serious and grasped his hands.

“I’ve come to show you I wasn’t a liar like Ladybug claimed.” Lila gestured to herself. “I am Volpina and I’m really here to protect Paris!” Lila claimed. She stepped closer to him and Adrien backed up warily. “Don’t worry, Adrien. I won’t hurt you.” She reached a hand out to touch his face, but a wire quickly wrapped around her wrist, yanking her away from Adrien. Lila yelped.

Adrien’s emerald eyes were wide when he saw Ladybug—Alya—glaring down at Lila with righteous fury. Her amber eyes flared to life like a golden blaze.

“Ladybug?!” he yelled in shock.

“Adrien! She’s an akuma!” Ladybug shouted. She pulled on the wire harshly with one arm, causing Lila to screech in pain at being flung across the room into the wall. “She’s Volpina and she tried to kill me!”

“If only you stayed dead!” Volpina snarled, pulling against the wire. “If you hadn’t ruined my date with Adrien then this wouldn’t be happening!”

“Date?” Adrien voiced. “I... err… sorry but I didn’t really see it as a date.” He said sheepishly. Volpina gaped in shock as Ladybug grinned smugly. However, she screeched and pulled her arm, yanking Ladybug towards her. Ladybug hissed as both her hands tugged back on the yoyo, but the pain from her shoulder caused her to not have a strong enough grip, and she was yanked forward towards Volpina. Volpina punched her square in the jar violently. Ladybug cried as Volpina smirked. She readied her flute and played a few notes before the instrument was knocked from her hands by a baton.

“What a catastrophic it is that you seem to hate ladybugs, Volpina.” Chat grinned. “I hear they’re quite lucky.”

“Chat!” Ladybug exclaimed. Chat hurried to his partner and helped her off the floor. She surprised him, however, when she embraced him tightly. “Thank god you’re real this time!”

“Uhhh now isn’t the time, LB.” Chat told her as she sprung apart, dodging Volpina’s attacks. They readied themselves to fight her when the door to Adrien’s room burst open to reveal Gabriel, Natalie, Marinette, and Chloe. Chat’s eyes bugged open. “What the..?”

“Too late, Ladybug and Chat Noir!” Volpina sneered, having retrieved her flute and Chat’s eyes widened when he saw a doppelganger of himself holding her hand. “I have my handsome boy right here! Come and chase us if you want him back!” with that, her and the fake Adrien jumped out the window.

‘How did she…?’ Gabriel and Chat’s eyes narrowed at the implications of Volpina’s abilities. Both knew Volpina didn’t have the real Adrien, for he was right there as Chat. Nevertheless, Gabriel knew that he had to keep up a front for his son’s sake.

“What are you just standing there for?!” he barked. “My son has been captured! Go get him!” Chat Noir and Ladybug snapped their heads towards him.

“Right…” Chat whispered to himself. Ladybug beckoned him towards the window and both were off. Natalie, Marinette, and Chloe watched the whole scene in horror.

“I’ll go call the police!” Natalie yelled, disappearing from sight. This left Chloe, Marinette, and Gabriel in Adrien’s empty room.

“Adrien… “ Marinette whispered, eyes wide with panic. Chloe was frantically pacing.

“Adrien! No! We have to save him!” Chloe cried. Gabriel wisely kept the information that Adrien was in fact safe and sound to himself. It was not the time or place to reveal his son. He didn’t trust the Bourgeois girl to keep a cool head if he spilled the beans. The blonde haired girl rounded on the other two people in the room immediately as they were not speaking at all. “What are you doing just standing there?! Do something about this!”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.” Gabriel replied. Chloe was about to yell some more when a noise caught both their attention. They turned their gazes to the third occupant of the room, who was clearly in shock.

“Adrien… she took Adrien…” Marinette whispered. It seemed the severity of the situation was hitting her hard to the point where she was not comprehending it. Gabriel watched her in curiosity. “Adrien’s never been a target before… he’s never been taken before…” she bit her lip to the point of drawing blood. Drips of red ran down her chin. Duusu flew out from Marinette’s scarf and was comforting her. Chloe zeroed her eyes on the peacock.

“You! You can save Adrien!” Chloe declared. Duusu shook her head.

“Not alone. I need my Master to use me.”

“Grr! Then tell me how to use you so I can go save Adrien!” Chloe demanded. Duusu again shook her head.

“You are not my chosen. Marinette is my Master. Only she can use me.” She patted the pale girl’s cheek as Marinette was still silent. Chloe growled and swiftly grabbed her scarf, pulling her to her face.

“Yes, Adrien was taken, Marinette! So what are you going to do about it?!” Chloe yelled, shaking her. “Adrien is gone! My best friend is gone! And if you sit here and don’t do anything about it, I’ll never forgive you, you hear me?!” tears were streaming down Chloe’s face, the reality that her friend was in danger and she couldn’t do a thing about it, paining her.

Marinette’s thoughts were running like a marathon. Flashes of Adrien smiling appeared in her mind. Of him laughing. Of him being shy. She remembered his touches and encouraging words. She remembered the kindness he showed her from the very beginning. She remembered his face when he was holding his umbrella out to her—of his confession.

“I never had any friends.”

A hand reached up and grasped the hand that Chloe was using to grip Marinette’s scarf. Chloe stopped crying, looking up to see Marinette staring back at her, her eyes piercing her with the intensity of a blue inferno. She gasped at how they seemed to stare right into her soul. With Marinette’s guidance, she numbly let go of her. Chloe continued to gaze at her in a stupor while Marinette grasped both of her hands, pressing them against her heart. Gabriel and Duusu watched the midnight-haired girl in interest.

“Adrien will be all right.” Marinette said strongly. “Because I will save him.”

Chloe sniffled, her eyes flooding with tears, and she nodded. Marinette let go of her hands and turned towards Duusu and Gabriel.

“Master… are you sure?” Duusu asked, cautious, not believing what she was hearing. The kwami could feel herself buzzing with anticipation at being used once again. Marinette smiled, and Duusu was caught off guard at how warm it was. When Marinette nodded, Duusu could feel tears of happiness filling her eyes. She shook her head to rid of the tears and thoughts that accompanied them, but she found she couldn’t even begin to quell the happiness inside of her. Chloe, Marinette, and Gabriel watched in awe as Duusu glowed a bright blue in her joy, chirping a beautiful song. “It would be an honor to serve you, Master.” Duusu smiled as tears slid down her face. Marinette had a soft smile as she lifted her hands to catch Duusu in the air.

“Marinette.” Marinette corrected, still smiling, and Duusu felt herself grin.

“Marinette… I feel the cosmos singing in happiness. Its song is so beautiful.” Duusu sniffled.

“Yeah yeah! Hurry it up!” Chloe pressed them, coming out of her daze. Marinette nodded and turned to Gabriel who was holding out the peacock pin.

“Are you sure about this, Marinette?” Gabriel asked. Blue eyes shining in determination gazed into his. He was caught off guard at the conviction in them.

“Adrien has always given me kindness, even when I didn’t deserve it.” Marinette replied. She took the pin and clipped to her sweater. “It’s my turn to give something back.”

“Very well.” Gabriel nodded. “The words to activate the Peacock are ‘Feathers Fly’.”

Marinette took a deep breath, clutching the pin against her chest, and with a clear voice shouted.

“Feathers Fly!”

[ccorneliast]

A Heart In Barcelona - Chapter 2: A Carrison Fanfiction

Rating: M Summary: Carrie and Harrison go on a weekend getaway to Barcelona during filming of The Empire Strikes Back in the late seventies. Something happens on that trip that changes their lives forever. Disclaimer: this is a real person fan fiction, so it all definitely came from my imagination and I’m not trying to offend anyone (you know the drill). I did take some creative liberty on what concerns the timeline, so stuff that is mentioned/places they visit may not have existed in the seventies, I apologize in advance; I do use/paraphrase some parts from Carrie’s books, as a way of making it feel more like them.   A/N: The second chapter goes to space sister Jazz ( @kyberheartford ), for her excitment and for her love of harrison character development. Such big thanks to Maria ( @rosesjedi ) for editing this for me at midnight lol u rock boo. 

On AO3

I hope you enjoy this new story of mine and don’t forget to reblog and tell me your opinion!

Their cabbie pulls over on Passeig de Grácia, a large thoroughfare where every shop is inscribed with an expensive name: Dolce & Gabbana, Yves Saint Laurent. Yet, amidst this luxury, shines an actual gem: Casa Milà, or as it is commonly called, La Pedrera.

Carrie and Harrison dash below an awning and squint through the blinding sunlight, across the intersection, at its interesting stone facade.

“Did you know,” Carrie reads from her very informative brochure: “That a wealthy man called Milà commissioned Gaudí to design the building?” she explains.

“It’s beautiful.” He exhales, in awe.

“Your first Gaudí!” she exclaims, excitedly. She clutches his arm like a proud girlfriend: “How do you feel?”

“Like I said,” he repeats, still fixated on the frontage. “It’s unbelievable.”

Its grandiose structure is made up entirely of waves and curves, there not being a single straight line of construction. It was the home of the Milà family, as well as several other renters, but most of the locals despised it as eyesore – exactly how the same generation of Parisians felt about the Eiffel Tower.

“I wonder how it would’ve felt back then,” Carrie confesses. “I’d like to think I would’ve been one of those people who understood this was special.”

“You have an eye for special things, kid,” he states, matter-of-factly. He probably didn’t even think twice about his comment, he just said it. Like most of the things he does, he does them very true to his character, without thinking twice whether they’re hurtful or meaningful. This time around, Carrie cautiously rejoiced in his words. She knew there was a possibility that he just blurted it out without feeling it, but nonetheless, she’d record those words in her mind.

“Nice roof,” Harrison says. “But mine in London is better.” He waggles his eyebrows at her. She nudges him, and he nudges back.

La Pedrera’s rooftop is notorious for its weird, bulky chimneys: some shaped like medieval armory, others imitating soft-served ice-cream. The waves of tourists go up and down the Escher-esque stairs, around the chimneys again and again, like an endless ocean of dissimilar people.

“Harrison, stand right there,” she orders, hurriedly.

“Here?” he motions to the empty space in between tourists and chimneys.

“Yeah,” she pulls out her disposable camera and swiftly snaps a shot. “Smile for me, baby,” the pet name escapes her mouth without a warning. Thank God for the camera hiding her face. He obliges, surprisingly, and she takes the picture. “Perfect.”

“Let’s go?” he rushes, noticing of the amount of people surrounding them.

“Yeah, you wanna visit the other house?” she offers.

“Aham,” he’s already descending the stairs, a strange mixture of nervousness and fear.

“Harrison, wait for me!” She shouts, without being able to keep up with him.

She reaches the bottom and he’s waiting for her amongst the trees.

“What was that?” she asks, partially annoyed.

“What was what?” he asks back, impassive.

“That! Up there! That whole scene!” she’s still rather out of breath, trying to keep up with his fast pacing.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He’s already half-way into the subway station. She notices its name in yellow: Metro, oh-so-different from its brother in London.

“You’re infuriating sometimes.” She presses, taming her disheveled hair.

“Same could be said about you, dear.” His back is still turned to her while they await the metro that’ll be taking them to Casa Batlló.

“What is that supposed to mean?” her tiny frame manages to jump up to his shoulders, grabbing his attention.

“Carrie, stop.” He warns, his tone somber. His eyes still don’t look at hers.

“No,” she jumps again, this time grabbing a hold of his shoulders, making him tumble backwards.

“Stop, I mean it.” This time, his face is turned towards her. It’s dark and… wet? She doesn’t remember hearing his voice breaking from crying, nor does she remember to actually see him cry. She always imagined a specimen like Harrison Ford was not capable of any emotion, much less sadness. If any, he’d be able to feel empathy or lust, but not sadness. A form of male animal like him feeling anything other than that was scary. She chose him because he was safe, because she was sure he couldn’t feel. Then, a frightening thought came to mind:

Carrie couldn’t help but wonder, if Harrison cried so easily like this, though she still didn’t know why, then… could he feel other inane things like love?

 “You wanna see something cool?” he pokes her chest.

“I’m looking at it.” She teases, biting her lip. It takes all of his strength not to start making out with Carrie in the middle of the crowded street.

“Shut up,” he laughs. “Turn around for me, dear.”

They’re standing across the street from Casa Batlló, another Gaudí masterpiece. The surface is covered in ceramic-shard mosaics – aqua and cobalt, rusty orange and yellow gold – in rough, skinlike patterns. As if that wasn’t enough, the rooftop is another force to be reckoned with, with an animalistic arch of metallic tiles that’s curved like the back of a mighty dragon.

“I like this one even more, huh?” she says. His eyes widen with speechlessness.

“This one is more you,” Harrison tries. “It’s the bright colors, I think.” He smiles his signature crooked smile.

“Look at us, we look like we’re shopping for houses together.” She jokes, bumping his side. He doesn’t laugh, though. In fact, he doesn’t react at all.

“Next?” he asks, glancing at the watch on his wrist. It’s a little bit past one in the afternoon.

“Should we eat?” the scalding sun feels like it must burn through her pale skin.

“If that’s what you want.” His tone is monochroic, yet he smiles momentarily.

They hop on a bus en route to the Gothic Quarter, in hopes of freshening up and eating a late lunch at the market. Carrie switches to a baggy shirt and a flowy, thin skirt. Changing was practically a requirement with such unbearable heat.  

“That’s the one!” she exclaims as they turn left at Las Ramblas and enter a huge agglomerate of people. The scent of fresh food and organic produce fills the air. Harrison immediately gravitates towards the charcuterie section, promptly getting a chorizo sandwich. Carrie follows suit. The two actors sit down on the sidewalk outside the La Boqueria market and eat in silence. After a while, Carrie asks: “Where should we go next?” impatient to cut through the awkward atmosphere that was threatening to set.

“The guy at the front desk gave me this,” he hands her the map of Barcelona, with the major tourists’ spots circled. “While you were changing, he showed me that.” He explains, succinctly.

“Sagrada Família?” Carrie tries. It sure is famous.

“I was thinking more of Parc Güell.”

And off they go.

As soon as they enter the subway for a very long trip to the edge of Barcelona, it’s quite evident that, with the number of tourists in the same situation as them, there is sure to not be a seat for them to rest their feet for a while. They hold on to the railing for a few stops, chatting sparingly. Then, someone gets off the subway and Carrie nudges him. Then, she sprints as effectively as one can sprint inside a crowded subway and snatches the seat. He laughs.

“You’ll never be as fast as Princess Leia!” she shouts, annoying the people around them with their childish antics.

“What was that? I’ll never be as fat as Princess Leia?” he jokes, winking at her.

She melts.

“Shut up.” She retorts with a shaky voice. Then, she says. “Your feet must be killing you.”

“They’re fine, Carrie.” He responds.

“No, sit here.” She gets up to offer him the seat.

“You’re crazy, sit down.” He insists.

“Harrison,” her tone is harsh even. “Sit down.” He obliges, how could he not?

“We’ll share it, then.” He moves to the side and gives her a tiny portion of the seat.

“Okay.” She answers, giggling. This had been her plan all along.

She sits down next to him: “I’m falling, Harrison.” Someone beside them laughs.

“Just sit back a little.” And she does. She sits further back until she’s blatantly sitting on his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind as his arms wrap around her waist and his head burrows on the crook of her neck. She lets her head fall back, settling on his shoulder, until they’re a mesh of limbs on a public transportation. The vibration of the tracks lulls them to a blissful state of reverie. Even if she tried, she realized, she just couldn’t get him out of her head.

 They emerge into a neighborhood that’s emptier and dirtier. No one exits the station with them, and there are no street signs for their destination.

“Is this the right place?” she asks.

Harrison scratches his head. “I think so. Let’s try up there, sweetheart.”

He points towards an area that looks less barren. They hike up the streets, their hands brushing as they go. Everything feels abandoned as they reach a long hill with several sets of stairs and escalators. Escalators. Carrie’s never been happier to see escalators in her life.

As they ride the rickety steps, the sun gets brighter and brighter. When they reach the top of the hill, worn out and sweaty, the sky clears. Pleasant sunshine.

There’s another, smaller hill across the street. “The park?” she asks. He nods, encouragingly.

Then, with a burst of energy, Harrison scoops her up over his shoulder and runs towards it. Carrie screams with laughter. He shouts in mad glee. She pounds his back with her fists, yet Harrison doesn’t show signs of letting go. Only when they’ve gone through the gates and are on the summit does he let her down. He throws up his arms in triumph: “Now who’s the strongest, sweetheart?” he snickers. Then, he buckles like a weak hinge. “I’m dying.”

Carrie grins. “Serves you right.”

Harrison lifts his head. “You think so, baby?” And then she sees his expression change as he notices what lies behind Carrie. She turns to look. Their bodies straighten in amazement.

They’re not on just on top of the final hill. They’re on top of Barcelona.

 In the far distance, they can see the turrets and sculptures that Gaudí designed for the park – and its accompanying crowds – but, up here, everything is trees and serenity. A landscape of Mediterranean greens sprawls across to the horizon, with sprinkles of yellow, pink and blue tiles throughout – Parc Güell.

“Come and sit here,” she motions to a secluded area, off path. Suddenly, her heart beats faster.

The air smells of mountains and pines. There is a crazy number of trees here: cypress trees, olive trees, palm trees and just mystery trees with plump red berries.

Their bodies clash on the ground. They sneak through the foliage. She leans in and their lips meet, her body on top of his. He unbuttons her shirt, and his hands are around her back, caressing her smooth skin. But as quickly as their making out begins, he pulls away, gasping.

“Never mind, we can’t do this. If we go any further, the stopping part will be excruciating.” He looks at her through his eyelashes. “It already is.”

“You wanna go back to the hotel?” she reaches out to touch him, but he rolls away.

“Don’t you want to see the park?” he questions.

“We can come back later.” She proposes.

“And climb all of that again?” he grins.

“You’re right, Mr. Ford.” She says.

They sit in silence for a few moments, immovable.

Then, the sun dips below the treeline, and suddenly, Harrison is backlit by a stunning golden light. He looks so dashing even when he’s sweaty and dirty. She wiggles upward until she reaches his lips. They kiss, heavily, until Carrie can’t handle it anymore.

“Take that off.” She tugs at his shirt and he, surprisingly, indulges.

Now, a woman is playing the guitar, strumming the strings beautifully. The famous lizard is directly below them, they have the perfect view to look at it. The entirety of Barcelona in all its glory is given to them in a silver platter.

Yet, the only thing they can focus on is each other.

Her hands tentatively touch his abdomen, feeling every bump, every curve, almost like he’s La Pedrera himself. Her nails graze his scruff, her lips enveloping his skin in a leisurely manner. Why bother? They have the city to themselves.

His fingers get lost on her brown locks and his hazel eyes latch on to hers. His plump lips explore her chest, the soft, sensitive skin of her breasts. Her heavy breathing propels them to a more serious, less teasing, kiss. Their lips meet in a fusion of passion and desperation, their bodies never being close enough. The grass beneath his skin tickles and the sun on her bare back burns, but all that truly matters is her skin on his mouth and her hands on his neck.

“I didn’t bring any, Carrie,” he manages to breathe. “They’re all at the hotel.”

“What?” she murmurs, while she licks his earlobe, teasingly. “How could you not have brought any?”

“Well, this wasn’t exactly on the tour guide.” He chuckles at his own remark. She doesn’t stop though, which alarms him.

“Carrie, are you on the pill?” he asks, praying to God that her answer is affirmative.

She nods. And the heavens explode.

[fontiptoes]

Fic: I Was A Billion Little Pieces (’Till You Pulled Me Into Focus)

Fandom: Wonder Woman (2017)

Rating: General

Ships: Diana Prince/Steve Trevor

Summary: “Most things do…” Persephone says. “…gifts, however, tend to come for free.”

Wordcount: 2496

Where?: Under the cut or here on Ao3

“Love is like war – easy to begin, but very hard to stop.”

-H.L.Mencken

 XX

A dead man lives at the back of her mind, just beyond the edge of the wound that will never seal and he’s catching snowflakes in a memory that will never fade.

XX

In her dreams Diana is standing on a platform as if she were waiting for a train to arrive, even though some inexplicable feeling in the back of her mind tells her that no train will come.

In her dreams the train station is bare and empty, no squealing children, no whispered goodbyes and huffing engines. When she turns her head there’s but one other figure on the platform with her. It’s always the same person and it’s not who you might think.

Above the polished silver tracks stands a woman dressed in a tight leather skirt and a long sleeved purple blouse, her auburn hair tucked against the nape of her neck in a tight coil and her slender fingers wrapped around a slim cigarette.

The dream always ends like this: Diana opens her mouth to speak, to ask and the woman smirks and lifts her finger to her lips.

(Diana wakes to the blare of her alarm and blinks the sleep from her eyes, the dream peeling apart layer by layer. Outside her bedroom window a blue parrot tucks its beak under its wing.)

XX

This is the truth:  There’s a gaping hole somewhere in the middle of her chest. It’s there, because a hundred years ago Steve aimed a gun at a cargo bay full of deadly poison and she felt it in her own heart as she lay trapped by Ares, a scream tearing out of her throat.

She killed the God Of War, not for herself, but for the world and for the gods, for goodness and for humanity. She killed him, because it was her holy duty as an Amazon and she killed him because he took something from her that she’ll never replace.

After, Diana picks herself up from the ashes of the burning land her dead brother left and lets her eyes slide shut.

She closes her eyes and thinks It is done, Mother.

She closes her eyes and thinks The war has ended but it will never leave me.

Diana of Themyscira returns to London and calls herself Diana Prince.  Sometimes she’ll walk along the Thames and watch the people go about their lives after the war. She watches young children chase after yapping dogs and smiles. She watches men read their newspaper and women eat crumbling pastries with white lace gloves on their hands and she sips her coffee and allows herself to be proud of everything they have achieved. She sees a young man reaching for the hand of blushing girl and averts her eyes.

XX

The world calls her Wonder Woman and talks of her in awed whispers and hushed admiration.

XX

Time passes and she barely feels any of it. The war may have ended, but in its wake comes another, more gruesome and vicious than the first. She ends this one too, with grim determination and the ticking of a clock ringing in her ears.

XX

The woman at the train station is wearing an emerald green office dress and her hair falls down her shoulders in sleek waves. She takes a drag from her cigarette and smiles at Diana as the white smoke rises between them. She refuses to speak and Diana is growing frustrated, but when she inhales sharply the smoke smells of something heady and sweet, something Diana recognizes but can’t name.

The stranger cocks her head to the side and smiles expectantly.  

(Diana wakes with a start and realizes: almonds)

XX

The decades tick by and Diana adapts, more or less. She watches her (Steve’s) friends live their lifes. She sits in the front row when Sammy bows before the curtain falls. She listens to Charlie sing off-key and half-drunk with tears in bloodshot eyes. She exchanges letters with Etta and Chief and loses count somewhere along the way.  One by one they are all taken from and she remains endlessly helpless against the ongoing stream of time with a box full of memories under her bed.

Diana of Themyscira moves to Paris to forget. Diana Prince moves to Paris to build a life.

XX

Diana is sitting on the balcony of her Paris penthouse on a breezy April morning with a cup of tea in her left hand and the watch cradled against her collarbone in her right hand when it stops ticking. She doesn’t realize it at first, because the absence of a noise is always so much less striking than the presence of it. She opens her palm and reveals the stillness in it, another part of him forever lost to her. She weeps for it, as though he had fired that gun right there and right then.

(A hundred years later and the pain is still fresh and new, like a wound that won’t stop bleeding.)

XX

Diana looks at the woman with the auburn hair and something like long forgotten knowledge shivers its way back to the surface. She turns around and squares her shoulders, unafraid.  The woman on the platform raises an eyebrow as she lifts the cigarette to her lips.

“I know my own when I see them.” Diana says.

The woman throws her cigarette into the trackbed and smiles. “When the gods went to war they knew they wouldn’t return. It is foolish to engage in a war with war himself. Yet my husband followed his brother’s call into battle and perished as the others did and when he did he left me to rule over his realm, for the underworld may never remain unguarded and the dead may never be left on their own.”

“Persephone…” Diana whispers to herself and the goddess smiles.

“I have come to deliver a gift.” Persephone says and suddenly the train station is gone. Diana turns her head and they are sitting on a porch in the middle of a field with roses and vines wrapping their way around the wooden posts of the fencing. Persephone sits in a gold plated chair, her loose hair studded with petals. A monkey with silver grey fur sits on her right shoulder and three large, black dogs lie at her feet, watchful.

Diana is in her armour, but without her shield. “What kind of a gift?”

“When the God Of War fell and you had brought the peace the gods had never hoped for…” Persephone says and rests her free hand on top of a dog’s head. Her other hand is holding a chalice of wine, so deeply red in colour that it almost leaves purple stains where it sloshes against the rim of the cup. “…there was no joy in your heart, no elation over the victory. There was just grief over something as fickle as human life. You grieved and you mourned and you wailed over the death of that man like you felt it as your own. You cried and I felt ashamed.”  

“Ashamed?” Diana echoes with a hollow laugh. “Do the gods deem me weak then?”

“The gods have never considered you weak, Diana of Themyscira, but the gods have deemed you wise enough to understand that the loss of a mortal life is no more meaningful than the death of a fly to the fabric of the universe, no more than a dot on the canvas of eternity. ” Says Persephone and lifts her chalice to her lips, watching her over the rim.

Diana clenches her fingers against the skin of her thighs, presses her eyes closed against the ache of the past and the stinging of tears. “What kind of gift did you come to deliver?” she repeats and opens her eyes.

“A hundred years have passed and your heart is still bleeding over that man. A hundred years have passed and you have recovered from every wound that has been inflicted upon you, but this one. ” Persephone smiles, tilting her head and when Diana was young her mother had told her that gods took joy in toying with human life and that their games were as cruel as they were wondersome and suddenly Diana understands every word of it. “I have come to tell you that what has been lost to you may be returned.”

Diana’s heart soars and drops. She swallows. “To what price?”

“Price?” The goddess asks.

“Everything comes with a price.”

“Most things do…” Persephone says. “…gifts, however, tend to come for free.”

(Diana wakes panting and sweating with her silk sheets tangled around her feet and her hair matted to her forehead and the back of her neck. She reaches under her pillow and retrieves Steve’s soundless watch, pressing it to her heart.)

XX

(She’s dying, she knows this. She may have been born from the blood of the gods, but not even she can lift the rubble on top of her. She closes her eyes for just one minute and all she sees is Steve’s endlessly blue eyes and a village in the middle of a war zone, snow falling heavily around them as they sway. She can almost feel his hands on her body and his breath on her skin where it stirs her hair, can almost smell the leather and the ash on his skin.

“Diana…” Steve says softly, his eyes catching hers and his fingers clenching at her waist. She smiles at him and reaches out to trace the shell of his ear with her fingertips.

“Steve, I…” she starts, but he interrupts her.

“Diana…” he repeats firmly with a sense of urgency. “…you can’t stay.”

She frowns, looking away, up at the broken church towering over his shoulder. “I don’t want to go back.”

Steve smiles sadly and brushes her hair back over her shoulder as he did all these years ago. “If you don’t return neither of us can.”

 She regains her wits with a gasp and goes on.)

XX

The air is cool and crisp, stars stretching above the city and the Eiffel Tower sparkles in the background. Diana just stopped a minor robbery, targeting a jewellery store and is now following the sound of a car alarm howling in the distance. She turns a corner and approaches the back of a man examining the blinking taillight of the car. She raises her shield and tilts her head, taking a step closer.

“Excuse me.” She says politely, in English and the man whirls around with his hands up, his lips moving around an apology Diana cannot hear, because all she hears is the blood rushing in her own ears, all she hears is the echo of a plane exploding one hundred years in the past.

Steve stops short, freezes where he stands and a single word falls from his lips.

“Diana…” He breathes, his blue, blue eyes filled with a yearning that resonates with the ache in her own heart. He takes a step in her direction and Diana shakes her head, staggers backwards.

(“All the gods have to give from their death bed is smoke and lies, my child.” Her mother says, an eternity ago, perched on the edge of her bed.)

“Diana.” Steve repeats louder, on a laugh and takes another step. Diana drops her shield and runs. She hears Steve calling her name from behind her, hears her own footfalls and is suddenly, painfully reminded of another occasion when their roles were reversed and he almost looked back, but didn’t. She doesn’t want to turn around and face the reality of it, an illusion sent by the gods perhaps, a cheap parlour trick and nothing but or a diversion fabricated by those who seek to see her gone. Her own past, twisted and used as a weapon. The only thing she can never struggle against staring in her face.

She rounds a corner and finds herself back on Persephone’s porch, panting and lost.

“You!” she seethes and points a finger in accusation. “What did you do?” One of the dogs stands up, growling and hackles raised, but Diana ignores it.  

“Why, my niece…” Persephone says calmly and silences the dog with a flick of her wrist. “…it seems to me that you need to learn some gratitude.”

“Gratitude?” Diana spits back at her and anger rises within her like water in a cave, like blood filling a fresh gunshot wound. “For mocking me?”

“Mocking you?” the goddess laughs and steps closer to her, a white rose cradled between her pale fingers. “Did I not tell you that I had a gift to give?”

“On what terms?”  Diana pants, desperation and hope winding around her heart, like the flowers growing around the fencing. “What do you expect me to give in return?”

“What could I ask of you, that you haven’t already given?” Persephone asks around a smile and the garden vanishes and Diana is left in the dark alleyway, high red brick walls lining the street on either side, the bustle of the city a faint noise in the background. Steve rounds the same corner that she did and stops short when he sees her standing there. He’s right there in the same uniform that he died in, panting with his left hand pressed to a stitch in his side. His right hand is holding her shield. Her heart clenches and jumps in her chest and everything inside her screams in hot, disbelieving joy.

“So…” he says and clears his throat as he keeps his distance. “…I’m not sure, if you’ll believe me, but that never happened to me before. Like, usually it takes between one and three seriously lousy pick-up lines until the girls take off running, but…uhm…” he trails off and stares at her, shrugging helplessly, something joyful and amazing shining in his eyes and reflecting in her heart.

“Steve…” Diana whispers, breathless and disbelieving, and steps closer, her own footfalls against the cobblestone street lost to her ears, the world around them moving impossibly slow and impossibly fast at the same time as it loses any kind of significance to her.  His eyes stay locked on hers as he waits for her to approach. A sudden, broken noise somewhere between a wail and a laugh escapes her mouth as she delicately touches the tips of her fingers to his jaw, sliding up to thread them into his hair, her hands framing his face. He shudders, the shield falling between them, as his own hands come up to cup her elbows, his whole body falling forward to bury his face in the slope of her shoulder.

Steve mouths her name into the side of her neck in breathless wonder and she is home.

XX

A dead man lives in her polished Paris apartment and he’s cooking pancakes in a kitchen he hasn’t fully puzzled out yet.

[only-forr-me]

Peaceful Moments

Every peaceful moment has felt like an escape from my every day headspace which I know is not true sustainable peace.

- mtl with e. I look at that trip as one of the happiest experiences of my life. It’s more abt e than the actual trip because anywhere with u makes me feel at peace. picnic in front of the pond. late night adventures over the city. morning in the heaven that was the apartment. seeing your joy and freeness in the city. the hole in the wall on the last day and feeling like locals. At the same time i kept thinking abt how soon it was going to end and it took away from some moments. i love u so much, ur so gentle, open and were so in sync. i never feel scared to express my joy with u and vice versa. My inability to be present really eats away at memories.

- the eiffel tower w fam. I remember being so pleasantly surprised by the peace i felt that night. I expected to be overwhelmed and pressured to enjoy the experience but i loved it. The gorgeous view, the feeling of escape from reality, the blend of global accents, the rare coolness of the air after a 45 degree afternoon. 

- bay front w L. there’s so many moments where i feel peace w u. in general i miss walking around the city just so we can talk. i remember i told u u make me feel calm and u cried. its really true. u truly understand me and support me in unspoken ways. I love u. remember when we saw S... thats our power.

- e. that one day we went to the park (u made time for me even though you had work to do) felt like heaven. u did it for me because i loved the season and the animals. it was much needed before returning to this small room in my home city. even the late nights studying on campus made me feel at peace. going to sushi, going for walks i loved everything and felt at peace.

- some times being on my own is when i truly feel at peace. i love early morning in the library at my spot where the sun lights the cubicle so beautifully. I love anxiety free walks by myself while either listening to a podcast or playlist. I really love the morning even though right now my schedule is so fucked and i sleep through the day and stay up through the night. I love being in nature and watching animals live what i imagine to be a peaceful life. No agenda, no fears, not even fear of death, no need for a purpose in life, just simply existing and being one with nature. This is why i dream of living in a buddhist monestary. if somehow i make it to 60 and still feel like i do now i want to become a buddhist and live with the monks. I want to learn how to have no attachments and live in the present.

[mypurplelanterns-blog]

A (poor) South African’s Guide to a holiday in Paris

Paris; the city of love and light and pastry - a few of my favourite things (for when I’m feeling sad) – naturally I wanted to visit. So I did, and it was wonderful; but there are some things I learnt that you may find useful; so here they are. In bullets for easy reading.

1.      Bring all the warm clothes in your cupboard

Since South Africa is a relatively sunny place, we ARE NOT used to the cold cold cold of Europe. This is not a winter’s day in Joburg people; so bring all of the warm things you own.

Some ideas:

a.      Ear muffs (the fluffier the better)

b.       Gloves (made from the hide of a mammoth)

c.       Long Johns

d.      Thermal panties

e.      Snow boots

f.        Tomy takkies (to place inside of the snow boots)

g.      Various scarves in a range of vibrant colours to display your affinity with the soul of Africa

h.      A face mask similar to the one worn by Sir Anthony Hopkins in The Silence of the Lambs

i.        Woolly socks

j.        A bear skin rug

k.       A belt to fasten the bear skin rug around your middle

l.        A long trench coat

Now of course you may be concerned about how strange you might look in the fashion capital of the world – adorned in bits of animal skin and bulging around the middle. But trust me darling readers – when you are standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower and you are all toasty and warm – you will send me a stream of gratitude.

Note: Do not wear this entire ensemble whilst going through customs; save it for the streets of Paris

2.      Purchase frozen food at the French grocery stores

Food in Paris is delicious but expensive, especially when you are dealing with the currency equivalent of a weak cup of earl grey. To save money, buy frozen food in the stores which is healthy and really yummy! You do however need a microwave for this step, or a stove. Do not be tempted to start a fire on the street – this will not work because Europe is a wet place.

 3.      Do not step on a rat

This unfortunate incident occurred mainly because Paris is so pretty that your head is constantly in a state of upward tilt. If you feel something warm and round underfoot; calmly step away and DO NOT LOOK DOWN. Also, try your best not to think of the Black Death and resist any urge you may have to lick the underside of your foot.

4.      Learn how to say “No thanks” as quickly as possible

Paris is full of people who want you to buy things from them. Here is an example of the dialogue one might have:

Sarah is sitting peacefully at a little cafe on the streets of Montmarte, a simple camera strung about her neck. A wine glass is in front of her and she sips upon it happily in her state of traveller’s bliss.

Enter French con Artist with a full beard on his face and money glistening in his eyes

FRENCH ARTIST: Bonjour mon petite Madame! Voulouz vous a picture drawn of you?

PLEASE EXCUSE MY FRENCH  

SARAH: Oooooo oui oui! She giggles girlishly

A string of French words erupt out of the Artist’s mouth as he begins to frantically draw his victim. The error begins to dawn on Sarah is she sips her wine faster and faster till she is glugging it down like one who has been presented with water after a stint in the Kalahari. “Oh no”, thinks Sarah, “What have I done? I cannot pay for this generic picture of a girl that this man is insisting is an incredible likeness of me”

At last, after five minutes, the Artist presents Sarah with herself.

FRENCH ARTIST: Tadaaa! Eeez feeefty euros yez?

SARAH: FIFT- BY GAD! I am a poor poor poor student! Have mercy on me, I have no money.

FRENCH ARTIST: Vaguely annoyed How mush you heeeve?

SARAH: TWENTY EUROS *cries into napkin*

FRENCH ARTIST: Geeeeev to meeeee!

Lesson: Sarah has learned that sweet talking French men may have ulterior motives and if someone you don’t know tells you how you have extreme beauty, they probably want your money.

Rather smile politely and say: “Non Merci”

Or, learn how to say no in 13 different ways by following this link: https://frenchtogether.com/no-in-french/

5.      Enjoy every minute of it

Paris is absolutely magical. Every person you meet is intriguing; every scent you inhale is wonderful. In autumn, the wet blackness of each tree contrasts perfectly with the bright yellow of its leaves.  

Its arrogance justified by the weight of its history, and the vitality of its people – and there is no doubt that you will fall in love with it. Just please don’t be proposed to atop the Eiffel Tower. 

Too cliché darling, you are better than that *winks*