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deathsimage · 2 years

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Finally Alone

Content: Price x reader (18+) minors dni, afab reader, short athletic reader, reader is a member of 141, reader is a sniper and close combat expert, reader is 20-25

Warnings: smut, sexual situations, language, fighting, jealousy, childhood trauma, age gap

Details: (y/c/n) = your field call name; (y/n) = your name (first); (y/l/n) = your last name

Note: for some reason during the fight scenes I was imagining Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit playing in the background 😂 and when the “good part” hits After Dark x Sweater Weather idk why but yeah. This shit is long btw, buckle up sluts. Not proof read! Lightly scanned over 🫢 enjoy Daddy issues squad 🫶🏻

8:00 AM

You yawn as you wake up to your alarm clock, rolling over to see your Captain who had spent the night with you last night. Nothing happened, just him being there for your comfort. Your depression was setting in and he could tell you weren’t in a good head space, it’s his job to notice those things. You tend to be worse when you’re alone, so he volunteered to stay with you overnight to make sure you made it through the night okay.

The team knew about your illness and your trauma, they could tell something was off when you first joined, and when you finally opened up to them they pieced everything together. They’re your family and they do anything they can to help, just as you would for them.

Price’s back was facing you, he was clearly awake from the alarm clock but he was entirely too comfortable to get up. You begin lightly grazing your finger nails up and down the skin of his back, making him shiver a bit. You giggle at the fact you have never seen him do that, and he rolls further onto his stomach so you would continue to lightly scratch his back. This would eventually become routine.

When he finally decided to get up and get dressed you couldn’t help but just watch the sleepy man, thought running through your mind…thoughts you didn’t want.

You were never protected. You survived on your own from the time you were 6, you took care of yourself and you protected yourself the best a child knew how to. In fact, all the things you seen and went through growing up, you shouldn’t even be alive, it doesn’t make sense that you survived. You never felt safe, ever. It was just part of your life..until now.

Tears began filling your eyes as you felt something you thought you would never have the luxury of feeling.

Safety.

Even in the field with bullets flying at you and bombs hitting the ground 10 feet away from you, if he was there..you felt safe.

(y/n)? You didn’t notice Price was now looking at you, already walking over to sit on the edge of the bed, his rough hand lightly placing itself on your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes snapped up to look at him, starting to smile. “Nothing..for once..everything is okay.”

Price gave a sigh and a light smile, confident that he was the reason why you felt so content. Standing back up to walk to the door. “We’re in the sparring zone today, wear fighting clothes.” He said before leaving for you to get dressed.

9:00AM

You showed up in your camo cargo pants and a black tank top, seeing a few soldiers already sparring on the mat. Seeing your best friend Soap you smiled and went to stand next to him. As soon as you approached he got his usual goofy smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to give you that rough weird bro hug. “How ar’ ye feelin today?”

“Good.”

“Good. Price was worried about’cha so I was too. I think he’s got a crush on ya.” Soap grinned like he was getting high off of teasing you. He knew you liked Price, he seen the way you looked at him and the way you listened to him the way you listen to no one else. You’re fairly stubborn, only doing what you feel is right, unless Price says. Whatever Price says, you do it. Although you’ve never had a problem ignoring authority before now..something about his commands were just..right.

Ghost was standing next to the mat, seeming to be instructing the matches. You were a good fighter, you’ve been fighting all your life. Even if you were small, you found how to use it to your advantage.

“(y/c/n)” Ghost barked “on the mat. Men, this is why you can’t estimate anything, never let your guard down, always expect anything. Soap, demonstrate.”

You pushed off your boots and socks, stepping onto the mat, looking back to Soap with a shit eating grin. “Fuck Lt, why do I have to get beat up?” Soap groaned as he got onto the mat with you, rolling his eyes at your cocky smirk.

“Start.” As soon as the words left Ghosts lips you had Soap down on the mat.

“Dammit (y/c/n) give me a second to see you love first at least!” He yelled as he got back up, turning around to find you, but once again you already had his legs clipped from under him. Soap was one of the best fighters in any military, so was Ghost and Price, but you were something different. You went for targets larger men never looked for, so therefore never thought to guard. Before Soap knew it you were running at him, he braced himself to take a hit but he was completely caught off guard when you hit the mat and slid, grabbing his hands as you slid between his legs, making him fall face first. Jumping up behind him, you just walked over to him and sat on his head, causing him to aggressively tap the mat.

Ghost just chuckled over to the side of the mat, allowing Soap to go sit on the bench.

“Okay well if you think it’s so funny why don’t you go fight her?” Soap pouted. Ghost just shrugged in acceptance of the challenge, stepping onto the mat to face you.

After another embarrassing match of you easily slipping by each one of Ghosts techniques, ending up behind him before he could see you move, he was down on the mat face up, groaning as he cursed himself for letting you get by him. Wasn’t his fault, you just knew what you were doing, and it was different than what most men tend to work with.

One of the by standing soldiers decided to speak up, seeming that this small woman needed to be put in her place so to speak. “I bet she can’t be König”

Soap just looked up from the bench “I’ll wager on that. You by everyone a round of drinks if she wins. If she loses, I’ll buy.”

The other soldier chuckled and agreed to the bet, Soap shaking his head “I almost feel bad for doing that to him.”

Your 6’10” teddy bear walked onto the mat, shaking your hand before getting in stance, you both beginning on Ghosts command.

Normally König would be afraid of hurting you, but he’s fought you before..he knew he had to give his all even for this small mädchen who wasn’t tall enough to even reach the top shelf of her locker. It was funny actually, how indestructible she seemed, almost made of rubber. She would get bruised, but bounce right back, and hit you harder than the last time. She had fought to survive this long, her body just decided to keep up with her mental will.

It took longer yes, but you eventually had König on his stomach with his neck between your thighs and his ankle pinned under your arm. “Geben! geben!”

1:30 PM

You let go of König and got off of him, the both of you chuckling as he got up. He gave you a pat on the back, almost knocking you over, before nodding to Ghost and going back over to the side with Soap. Soap was grinning like he just won the lottery, the other soldier completely dumbfounded at the fact that a girl not even 5’6” could take down a mountain of a German man. The men decided to pile out of the sparring building to go get those promised drinks, not to mention they needed lunch. Soap turning to you “you comin?”

“Nah, I haven’t fought the captain yet” you grinned looking back to Price who was just now finishing a cigar. Price rolled his eyes and tossed his cigar aside, waving for Soap to go on without the two of you. Now, you and Price were alone.

Taking off his boots, Price stepped onto the mat with you, a playful smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“On your mark captain.” You beamed, wiggling your hips a bit in excitement.

Once the fight began you almost seemed to let your guard down on purpose, just so you could feel his hands on you; his body pressed against you. Feeling safe even while ‘fighting’.

“Don’t take it easy on my (y/n), I may be about 10 years older than you but I’m not that old.” He chuckled, now having you pinned beneath him, but you were quick to swing your leg back over him and throw him off of you, now on his lap holding his jaw to the mat while holding his arm twisted and pulled to you. “Never mind..” he groaned, making you giggle and let go of him. Mistake.

Now he has you, once again, pinned to the floor. Although this time, your wrists are pinned above your head, his thighs pressing against yours to press them back towards your body, practically having you in the missionary position. You both freeze, looking into each other eyes, his aqua eyes making you shiver the way he’s looking at you, as if you’re his..he could have you right now if he wanted, and the twitch in his pants let you know that he did.

Price had enjoyed your company from the moment you joined 141, loves your personality and the brightness you brought to the atmosphere. He wanted to protect you more than anyone else, especially after learning your traumatic background. He also had..feelings, that he thought he shouldn’t be having. Waking up in the middle of the night in a sweat with a tent under his blanket due to having dreams about you in ‘certain’ situations.

It seemed like hours had passed, but it was only a few seconds before his lips smashed into yours. He seemed..hungry..starved. He craved you and he finally had you. He was already grinding against you, his hard cock pressing a through his pants even through your own, it was obvious that he’s…big.

Wrapping your legs around his waist he began kissing down your jaw line, down to your neck. He wanted to mark you, make sure everyone knew you were his. You squirm beneath him as the electricity spreads through your body, the warmth that felt like fire burning between your legs with want and desire. “Captain..please..”

“Tell me what you want love..and it’s John.” He breathed against the soft sensitive skin of the love bite he had drawn to the surface with his teeth and tongue.

“I want you John..please..fuck me..” you panted, feeling his face leave your neck as he looked at your face intently, seeming to look for any sign of discomfort or regret. Your eyes were half closed, feeling drunk on just his body heat alone, inhaling his scent, feeling every bit of his body against you. He leaned up, unbuttoning your cargo pants, sliding the zipper down as he pulled them off of your legs, letting your thighs go back to resting against his own. Leaning back down, his lips once again connected with yours, his tongue slipping between your lips to dance with yours. His hands found themselves underneath your shirt, squeezing your breasts in his palms before pulling your shirt off, then his own. God…his body was ethereal, like he shouldn’t even be real. His face now only inches from yours, his lips a painfully short distance but not close enough to touch. His fingers slid down your abdomen, tucking under your panties. His middle finger slid its way between your slit. God, even his fingers were huge.

Rubbing his finger over your cunt to feel the slick he had produced from you made him smirk. “Already this wet for me darlin’?”

In response you bucked your hips up to push his finger further, but he just leaned up and pressed your stomach down with his other hand, forcing your back flat on the floor. “Needy little cunt eh?” He smirked, his breaths still heavy. Sliding his finger up to your clit, circling with the tip of his finger before flicking it, all making your body twitch and jerk, he continued to stare down at you in admiration. You were his..finally. Watching you get so much pleasure from just his kisses and his finger made him high, feeling that nothing could ever make him feel this good.

He slid his finger out and slid it into his mouth, tasting your slick, letting out a low grumbling moan, sounding almost primal as he tasted you. “Fuck you taste amazing..” he growled. Repositioning himself, his face was now between your thighs, kissing your bud through your soaked panties making your back arch again. He once again used his big strong hand to press you back down flat onto the mat, his other finger moving your panties aside to drag his tongue over your cunt, up to your click. Making you let out a loud whimper made Price growl against your pussy, the vibration of him sending stars through your vision. He seemed drunk off of your wetness, your pussy in general driving him insane; just as perfect as he imagined in his late night fantasies.

One hand still pressing against your abdomen to keep you in place, the other hand gripped your thigh. Sucking on your clit while working his tongue around it, his hand moved from your thigh to slide his middle finger inside of your wet cunt, making your legs shake at the double sensation. Didn’t take him but a moment to enter a second finger inside of you, pumping them in and out as a slower pace, curling his fingers up against that sweet spot. You only noticed for a second but Price was grinding his hips against the mat, trying to give his throbbing cock the least bit of friction. “J-John!” You gripped the hair on the top of his head as your legs lifted off the mat, shaking violently as you came on his fingers. Pulling his fingers out, looking down at your dripping wet cunt made a fire light in his chest that was already lit, but now it was roaring. He licked at your cum like you were the most divine thing he had ever tasted, sucking at your juices before pulling back to slide his two wet fingers between your lips, making you taste yourself. Licking and sucking your cum off of his fingers made him groan, leaning down to kiss you with his cum slicked mustache/beard. “Come on.” He slid his fingers from between your lips, wrapping his arms under your back, pulling you into his lap so your legs wrapped around him before standing up, holding you in his arms. You laid your head on his shoulder, eyes half shut as you were still high on your climax. He had carried you into the locker room showers. Sitting you down on one of the benches to push off his pants, his cock, so thick, making an obvious indention in his tight fitted black boxers. On sight, you immediately got to your knees in front of him, catching him off guard a bit as he looked a bit surprised as you wrapped your lips around the cloth covered erection, your hands massaging his balls through his boxers, a deep breathy moan coming from deep in his chest, his finger tangling in your hair. “Be patient love..I have other plans.” He looked down at you as he sat you on the bench again, leaning down to kiss you as he wrapped his arms around you to unhook your bra, laying it to the side. Pulling you to stand back up he knelt down to pull off your panties. You pressed your hand against his strong shoulders to step out of them, him giving your bare pussy a kiss before standing up and turning the hot water on in one of the showers, leading you to step inside. Your legs were still weak but you could stand. You enjoyed the warm water, not even noticing that Price was now standing behind you without his boxers, his naked erection pressing against your ass. You laid your head back against his chest, looking up at him with a loving smirk. He pushed your back forward, having your face pressed against the tile wall with your ass pulled to him. “Thighs together.” He commanded, making you quiver as you obeyed him. Pushing his thighs against the soft skin of your inner thighs, he slid his cock between your thighs, rubbing against your slit as he gripped your hips and began slowly fucking your thighs. “Fuck…not even inside you yet and I’m losing my mind..” he panted breathlessly.

Pulling back, his fingers wrapped around your waist to turn you around to face him, picking you up to wrap your legs around him. You both stared at each other like you were looking at heaven itself. One hand reached beneath you as he angled his cock to push inside of you. Fuck he was so thick..he may be around 7 inches but he was so..so fucking thick..

You whimpers, stuffing your face into the crook of his neck as the stretch of your hole was fairly intense.

“You okay love?” He whispered against your ear. “Yes sir..please don’t stop..” you spoke against his skin; pushing the rest of his cock inside of you until you were full, your toes curling at the fullness. “Yes..thank you sir” you barely got out through heavy breaths. He simply smiled as he started rocking his hips, his cock sliding in and out of the soft walls of your pussy. This would be easier if you were standing and his had your ass pushed back to him, but he wanted to hold you, look at your face, take in the emotions in your eyes. He loved you.

His hips began to snap faster against your own, you were finally able to lean back against the tile, pressing your hands against his broad chest as you looked at each other as he fucked you into the shower wall as the warm water ran down your bodies. The mixture of your moans was a song of your souls connecting in such an intimate way. Your bodies finally connecting as one.

His hips began to lose pace, getting sloppy as he was reaching his climax. “(y/n)..where do you want me to cum..?” He panted. “Inside..please sir, I want all of you.” Just those few words sent him over his edge as he slammed into you one last time, as deep as possible as his warm cum filled your cunt. Te sensation of his cum filling you sent you over your own edge, slumping down against his chest. Pulling out of you, setting you down, himself leaning against the wall to let the feeling come back to his body as you laid against him, your legs still shaking as he held you against his body, the warm water washing you both clean of your sticky. His head looked down, his lips pressing against the top of your head. “Glad we were finally alone.”

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eleanorfenyxwrites · 5 days

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The Man From Y.I.L.I.N.G.

Chapter 11: "Fire & Water"

Things are getting significantly darker, but I swear there is a happy ending to all of this. Y'all know me 😂

--//--

JINLINTAI

As logic would dictate, Jin Guangyao begins at the beginning.

The first person responsible for the cruelties of Jin Guangyao’s life is, naturally, the father who sired him. No matter what had come after, no matter the choices of every other person in his life, the first sin that Jin Guangyao had ‘committed’ was being born the bastard son of Jin Guangshan, thereby sealing his fate before he’d even taken his first full breath to cry.

Jin Guangyao carefully dips a long, glinting blade into the concoction of refined upas tree sap he’d spent the night brewing and lays it aside well away from where he’s actively working to let it dry. He dips two others after it in quick succession, and a final fourth, just to be safe. While they dry enough to be sheathed, Jin Guangyao tidies up after his evening’s activities, diluting the rest of the poison with the water from boiling the bark of the same tree before dumping it down a rust-stained drain in the floor. By the time it reaches the river it’ll be perfectly harmless and untraceable, not that he thinks anyone will really look too hard into what could have killed Jinlintai’s masters. Whoever’s left standing in the aftermath will be too busy fighting each other for dominance in the days before Jin Zixuan returns to take his rightful place as the head of their operations, there won’t be time (or, he’d wager, the desire) for any kind of thorough investigation.

Still, Jin Guangyao hadn’t gotten where he is today by being sloppy.

When the knives have dried he sheathes them and straps them on with the confidence he’s had to fight his entire life to develop, and as dawn is just beginning to turn from deep blue-black into the hazy blue-gray of true morning he slips out of his own rooms, now armed and properly dressed, to return to his prowling.

For all the fuss he’d made about needing 48 hours to clean up Jin Guangyao’s ‘mess’, there’s no way Jin Guangshan himself has condescended enough to see it done personally. It’s really such a shame that Jin Guangshan’s ambition is so curtailed by clutching at his own shortsighted greed in one hand and laziness in the other. Jin Guangyao’s talents have long outstripped his miserable father’s, but then he supposes his filial piety has been something of a shackle around his neck for even longer than he’s known his father, so it’s not much of a surprise to find he’s finally outgrown him now that he’s decided to remove the weight of it.

Jin Guangyao walks through Jinlintai with his head held high and finds the time to send a quick, silent prayer to Meng Shi, an apology for failing as her son to carry out her dying wish — the only failure he feels he’s truly committed in this life. He’d nearly made it at least; he’d found his father and earned his way into living in his house, to being a valuable asset to him, to be considered (however unwillingly) part of the family.

He just can’t do this for the rest of his life.

Perhaps her spirit would rest easier if he gifts her Jin Guangshan’s head on a platter. It’s not the most orthodox of offerings, but Meng Shi had always been an understanding mother. Maybe she’d understand that it’s the best he can do and forgive him for everything he isn’t.

Jin Guangyao muses on the question as he dodges guards sleepily walking their rotations almost as easily as breathing; after all, he’s the one who organized their shifts and their routes back when he’d first arrived. Madam Jin’s insistence that he do nothing save the work of a glorified secretary for his first few months in Jinlintai is paying dividends now, and he hopes she realizes her mistakes when it’s her turn for a visit.

He arrives at his first destination without trouble and is disgusted but unsurprised to find that he doesn’t even have to work in order to gain entry to his father’s lavish suite.

Jin Guangshan has long been infamous for his arrogance — in his business dealings, in his running of Jinlintai, in any and every way possible. Jin Guangyao, as his father’s unwanted right hand, has naturally seen that trait at play far more than anyone should have to witness, but never has it been clearer than this moment.

Jinlintai is a nest of ruthless, backstabbing snakes, and yet Jin Guangshan sleeps entirely unprotected. He doesn’t even share his quarters with his knife-happy wife, too fond of bringing prostitutes into his bed for her to stomach sharing a private space with her husband. Not that Jin Guangyao blames her, of course, though he still thinks it’s phenomenally stupid that neither of them seem to realize or care that this is a major gap in Jin Guangshan’s defenses.

The door isn’t even locked. Truly, Jin Guangshan is practically asking for someone, anyone at all, to slip into his room with the lightening shadows that herald dawn and slit his throat with a knife that’ll burn its way through his entire body before he’s done gurgling on his own blood. Jin Guangyao is careful not to touch the wetted blade glinting in his hand as he sits beside his father’s hip and ignores the man’s scrabbling at his own bloodied throat, his frantic wet gasps, the graceless thrashing of his limbs as the panic of drowning and the agony of the poison hit him nearly simultaneously.

He can see his own eyes reflected in the shining silver blade, black smudges in the dark dawn gray. He tilts his head until the splash of blood darkening the edge hides his eyes from sight, and only then does he turn to meet his father’s betrayed glare as he gasps through his final death throes and he thinks maybe he feels something like relief, though mostly he’s…numb.

This is not what he’d been raised to do.

Jin Guangshan thrashes in his bloodied sheets and Jin Guangyao remembers how many times his mother had told him, wistfully, sometimes with tears in her eyes, that one day his father would come back to Yunping and fulfill the promise he’d made to her. She’d told him that when he did come Jin Guangyao would need to be ready, to be the perfect son who would fit into his world.

Well. He’d become that, at least, though Meng Shi had never really known what world exactly it was her son would need to insinuate himself into. (He thinks, sometimes, that had she known the full truth she would have never asked Jin Guangyao to do this, but she hadn’t known and there’s nothing he can do to change that, so here he is.)

In his defense, he had become useful to his father as she’d instructed, he just can’t claim that he was very filial — not anymore. Not lately. Not when the tableau currently reaching its conclusion next to him is the fulfillment of far too many fantasies he’s entertained too many times to remember over the last few years.

Long gone are his desires to please his father, to be the perfect addition to his precious family business, to be useful to the man who abuses him at every turn, as his mother had wished for him to be.

His father has underestimated Jin Guangyao’s willingness to continue to roll over and show his belly. In his arrogance he’s forgotten that Jin Guangyao longs to survive more than he desires anything else, and with that no longer feasible under his father’s thumb then it’s Jin Guangshan who has to go, not Jin Guangyao.

Jin Guangyao sets the knife down beside Jin Guangshan’s crimson pillow and stands, dusting himself off and twitching his blood-spattered shirt straight as a pin before he leaves in search of his next target.

... -.-. . -. . / -... .-. . .- -.-

SUIBIAN - SOMEWHERE ON THE YILING RIVER

Lan Xichen knows that this is the height of foolishness, even without Lan Qiren’s parting remark to that effect still bouncing around his head. They know that Nie Mingjue has been compromised, it only stands to reason that Jin Guangyao has been as well. The sensible thing to do would be to leave them both to their fates, pawns that must be sacrificed to protect something far more important.

The problem is, Lan Xichen has never been very good at separating emotion and empathy from the necessary work that they do, which is why, prior to the Wens’ destruction of Cloud Recesses, he’d been quite content to keep himself at home and hone his abilities in ways that didn’t directly translate to people dying at his hands. In the normal course of things, it had been too difficult for him to forget that his targets didn’t exist in a vacuum; to put it out of his mind that someone, somewhere would miss them when they were gone, even the seediest and most miserable person he could imagine.

Wen Ruohan had forced him to change for the worse, as he had so many other people. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t do it with the torments in his Fire Palace designed to break the strongest of men, to make them forget who they are and what they should be in the service of what he needs instead — he’s a changed man and there’s no going back to what was. Lan Xichen has had to become hardened like his uncle has always warned him he must, though thankfully he (and Lan Wangji, who somehow managed to learn that lesson much more easily in spite of his rigid sense of morality) have both been too kind, or maybe simply too reticent, to tell him ‘I told you so’.

War changes a man, that much is true, and he accepted it — but it can’t change him in his very core, at least not in Lan Xichen’s case. He knows, logically, that the safest thing to do is leave his erstwhile partner-targets to their unfortunate fates and focus their energy on figuring out where things went wrong from within their own organization.

He also knows, logically, that his heart will never allow him to be so callous.

The speedboat he’d borrowed from the Jiangs’ fleet flies up the river at a clip that cools his cheeks and stings his eyes until he has to swipe tears away from the outer corners, and still he forges on as fast as he can against the current until the engine is whining and the water froths white in his wake long after he’s already gone.

In an ideal world (well, more ideal than the current situation), he would be able to force himself not to worry about Nie Mingjue for the time it takes to reach Jin Guangyao; he would feel unconflicted about who he chooses to fly to as fast as modern machinery can carry him; he wouldn’t concern himself if he’s betraying one to save the other and, worst of all, if his choice may mean that Nie Mingjue dies when he could have been saved had Lan Xichen only chosen to go to him first instead.

When Wen Qing’s distress message had come through and a course of action had needed to be decided upon, he’d said to Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji, “Wen Ruohan made Mingjue into what he is, he won’t be in a hurry to dispose of him,” with more confidence than he felt. “Jin Guangshan knows only how A-Yao’s competence suits him and his wants, he doesn’t understand how deadly his own son can be if pressed, nor that he is the one pressing him. We already know Mingjue has been captured and that Wen Ruohan will want to sharpen his favorite blade personally, but A-Yao has likely been overlooked and will not be closely monitored. He is the safer choice to stage a rescue for.”

His argument was logical and straightforward, and as such it was a solid reassurance that had given his family some peace of mind as he’d hurried away into unknown danger. But the logic of it sits like lead in his stomach, and every second he spends running further from Nie Mingjue is one he spends wondering if his not-quite-but-sort-of-fiancé is even still alive to hope for rescue or not.

Yet he knows that if he’d rushed to Nie Mingjue instead he would worry just as much for Jin Guangyao, constantly under threat and underestimated, a convenient target to be eliminated by the reckoning of everyone in Jinlintai. Even with Luo Qingyang in place to help him should the need arise, that’s no guarantee that she’ll actually be able to do so in time, considering she has her own cover to keep and should continue to do so even after the change in leadership in Lanling that Wei Wuxian is ultimately aiming for. He can’t truly count on her to save Jin Guangyao should he get into trouble, but he doesn’t even know if, after what he’s done, his help would be wanted —

Guilt, he decides, will just have to be his constant companion until he’s reunited with both of the men he’s developed feelings for far faster than (almost) anyone could have anticipated.

(“I realize this is all a bit pot-kettle-black and all, but it would probably be best if you didn’t sleep with them, Lan-da-ge,” Wei Wuxian had said to him when he’d come to East Yunping to give him his assignment. Like a fool, Lan Xichen had replied, with utmost confidence, “That won’t be a problem.” And while of course he hasn’t, not in the way his brother-in-law had meant it, there’s no denying that the feelings — the desires — are very much there.)

It’s a relief to finally be forced to set such distressing thoughts aside in favor of the undeniable present when the glittering spires atop the hulking mass of Koi Tower loom out of the blue-black predawn, glittering with sporadic clusters of lights and the occasional shadow of sentries making their rounds amongst the flared roofs and the layers of balconies and open-air catwalks as he drags the boat down to a crawl and drifts near-silently upriver, eyes trained on his goal nearly to the exclusion of all else.

“Hey.”

Lan Xichen is far too disciplined to yelp, but when he turns his startled gaze on Jiang Wanyin, just barely visible in the wan light, his friend has already raised his hands in surrender, palms out at shoulder height.

“What are you doing here? What’s wrong?” He drops his hands when he can see that Lan Xichen has recognized him and begins preparing to moor their boats together half-hidden in the reeds.

“There’s a rat in Yiling, Mingjue has been captured. I came to..Well. I was worried about A-Yao, and we’d had no word,” he reports as he pulls his craft alongside Jiang Wanyin’s, catching the rope the other man tosses to him to tie their prows together for a quick anchor.

“I haven’t heard anything since he went in, not even a shout,” Jiang Wanyin replies, looking more troubled than his usual perpetual frown makes him seem. “His cousin decked him when he got up there and had some guards drag him inside, but we’d planned for that. Mianmian also hasn’t given a signal that things have gone to shit.”

Lan Xichen knows that it’s as likely as not that things are going according to plan, but it’s growing more and more difficult to cling to his logic and rationality when he must face the very real possibility of losing both Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao in one night, before he’s even gotten a chance to properly apologize for deceiving them.

“You said Chifeng-Zun has been compromised?”

“Yes.”

“Where’s A-Qing?”

“Uninjured and on her way to Yiling as we speak, perhaps even already there. She’s safe.”

Jiang Wanyin exhales sharply with a nod, the only moment of visible relief he allows before he turns on his heel to look up at Jinlintai, assessing.

“I’m guessing you’re going in there.”

“Yes,” Lan Xichen agrees; there’s no point in lying, even if he were willing to do so.

“Do you want backup?”

“Did you bring Zidian?”

Jiang Wanyin snorts and ducks down to fish his whip out from the footwell beneath the wheel. He cracks it once out over the water to test its snap, startling a few waterbirds into flight from the marshy reeds a little further down on the banks. Lan Xichen darts a glance up at the ink-smudge figures walking their rounds, but none of the guards seem to have taken notice of the noise.

“Ready when you are.”

That seems to be something of an understatement when taking into consideration the 7-foot bullwhip Jiang Wanyin is currently coiling back up between his hands with the ease of years of training with his late mother’s signature weapon, but Lan Xichen lets it pass without comment. After all, he’s far more interested in finding Jin Guangyao as soon as physically possible, and so he simply jumps down into the ankle-deep water they’re moored in and sloshes the few yards to shore, Jiang Wanyin cursing and grumbling behind him about his nice shoes squelching in the mud as he follows.

His grumbling fades into silence as they climb the hill together, wary of putting a foot wrong or rustling too loudly through the underbrush and drawing unwanted attention to their movement as they move closer to the range of the sentries.

“You’re late. Or maybe right on time, depending on what you’re here to see,” a voice says out of the shadows just as they’re approaching a gap in the fence that surrounds the nearest section of the multi-tower complex. For the second time tonight Lan Xichen nearly jumps out of his skin and is saved from showing it only by his many years spent comporting himself with all the dignity of a Lan.

“Mianmian if you’re the rat I have no problem breaking your legs,” Jiang Wanyin growls at Luo Qingyang when she comes melting out of the shadows, dressed in her Wei black-and-reds rather than the Jin uniform she should be sporting.

“I’m only a rat if I’m allowed to jump ship, Jiang-gongzi,” she says with a little shudder and a glare over her shoulder up at the Tower. “This place is about to boil over like a hornets’ nest and I don’t want to be here when it happens if it’s all the same to you.”

“What do you mean? Where’s A-Yao?” Lan Xichen asks, fear and impatience itching under his skin. In spite of all of his comportment lessons as a boy he can’t help but fidget restlessly with the need to do something now that he’s here and in a position to help if someone would only point him in the right direction.

“Should be finishing up any minute. He’d already gotten Guangshan and the Madam when I checked about half an hour ago, should just be Zixun left to take care of. I was just about to go knock a few heads together so he can make a clean getaway when he’s done.”

“I’ll help with that, Xichen you wait for him out here,” Jiang Wanyin orders, and just like that Luo Qingyang hurries off with Jiang Wanyin in tow, the pair of them melting into the deep shadows between the buildings as the east begins to brighten with true dawn.

Lan Xichen waits a few tense minutes until he hears muffled grunts and the quiet thud of bodies hitting the nearest walkways overhead before he emerges from his hiding spot to loop around the main tower and begin climbing the stairs to the central courtyard. He keeps an ear out for any alarms or shouting to indicate that he’s been spotted, but none come.

The morning is strangely silent as he climbs, without even so much as a bird call to interrupt the low burbling of the sluggish river below. Lan Xichen measures his breaths with his steady tread up the stairs that feel never-ending, and when he finally reaches the landing he turns in a slow circle to survey what he can see of Lanling from such a lofty vantage point.

It’s got nothing on the views of mist-shrouded peaks from his old home in Cloud Recesses — or on Yiling sprawling out from the base of the mountain that contains the Burial Mounds — but then again Koi Tower only sits on a foothill of the range that rolls through Yiling before it dips again into the flat marshes of Yunmeng. Still, the view is beautiful in its own way as the sun rises over the plains below and gilds everything gold amongst the pale blue morning mists.

Lan Xichen turns back around to face Koi Tower at a signal deeper than conscious thought — the scuff of a shoe, a sharp intake of breath, registered and reacted to before his mind has fully caught up with what it could mean.

Jin Guangyao stands still as a statue at the end of a path that leads around the building into the gardens, and Lan Xichen worries for the space of a heartbeat that the blood spattered across his neck and face is his.

“A-Yao–” he chokes and steps towards him only to stop short when Jin Guangyao backs away from him, a graceless sort of stumbling half-step. Upon closer inspection it’s clear that there’s no way the blood is his when his skin beneath it is otherwise unblemished, but in the next moment Lan Xichen realizes that’s the least of his worries. Jin Guangyao’s eyes are a little wild, open so wide that Lan Xichen can see the whites all the way around, and Lan Xichen fears that to do this, to do as he’s been asked and kill the family he’d pledged his life to, he may have had to go somewhere Lan Xichen can’t follow.

He raises his empty hands in a clear sign of surrender, but it doesn’t stop Jin Guangyao staring at him like he’s seen a ghost. Lan Xichen can be patient though, now that he’s in sight, and so he stands as still as Jin Guangyao is and he waits.

Waits.

“Xichen-ge?” Jin Guangyao finally asks, a hesitant croak that Lan Xichen would very much like to never hear again.

“I’m here,” he soothes and sees some sense return to Jin Guangyao’s gaze, though he remains wary. Lan Xichen can’t fault him for that. “I was worried about you.”

Jin Guangyao blinks and, after a moment of visible dithering, steps closer with what looks like conscious effort. Lan Xichen flicks an anxious gaze over every part of him that he can see but besides looking a bit pale and holding that sort of nervous, cornered prey-like energy, he seems fine. (As fine as one can be under the circumstances, at least.)

There’s no polite or tasteful way for Lan Xichen to ask if Jin Guangyao has succeeded in murdering those of his family he was sent to eliminate, but he supposes that the evidence really speaks for itself.

“Mingjue’s in trouble,” he says instead, and Jin Guangyao’s gaze sharpens further, his eyes narrowing as they dart northward for a moment, though of course there’s nothing to see from here.

“What happened?”

“He and Wen Qing were betrayed, we do not yet know by whom. She has returned to Yiling, but we’ve lost all contact with him. We believe it likely that Wen Ruohan will be attempting to re-indoctrinate him if he has not already killed him.”

“Da-ge is too valuable to kill,” Jin Guangyao dismisses, like to think otherwise is nothing but foolishness. Lan Xichen finds himself soothed by the fact that their instincts in this are the same. “Men like Wen Ruohan don’t cast aside a useful tool like him so easily, he’s still alive. He has to be, we just have to go get him.”

Lan Xichen breathes a silent sigh of relief; he still doesn’t know if Jin Guangyao will ever forgive him for what he did, but if nothing else they can at least work together to rescue Nie Mingjue, can’t they?

Still, even if they can it wouldn’t be right to do so without at least trying to make amends. “A-Yao…I’m so sorry.”

Jin Guangyao blinks and startles ever so slightly, little more than a curious tilt of his head, the movement too sharp to look entirely natural.

“Oh?”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

Lan Xichen feels his breath catch in his chest when Jin Guangyao’s expression cracks, just for a moment, into something…tender. It’s gone between one blink and the next, but even before he speaks it’s enough for Lan Xichen to know he’s been forgiven.

“I would have done the same, in your position. And…I understand. We all do what we have to.”

It’s a curious feeling, to be forgiven so easily by a man he knows trusts no one. It’s tempting to ask if that’s changed, if perhaps he might have earned the privilege of Jin Guangyao’s trust despite his own choices — but every minute they spend here is a minute they are not helping Nie Mingjue, and now that Jin Guangyao’s success is certain the urge to fly north is an inescapable need thrumming under his skin.

“Thank you, A-Yao.”

Against all odds and expectations, Jin Guangyao smiles, small but genuine with the sweetest hint of the dimples in his cheeks.

“We should leave for Qishan,” he finally says after a few moments with another worried glance northward. “Da-ge is useful to Wen Ruohan but if he’s been caught red-handed attempting to kill him then he’ll have tipped his hand and proven he’s not nearly as obedient as Wen Ruohan thinks him to be. He’ll have pulled out all the stops to try to break Mingjue again.”

Suddenly feeling inadequate, Lan Xichen offers, “I have a Jiang speedboat.” It won’t be enough to get them as far north as they need, and sailing back to Yiling just to find other transport would be an unbearable delay. Thankfully, Jin Guangyao shakes his head immediately and gestures back in the direction he’d come, deeper into the complex.

“We’ll take a jet from here straight to Qishan, I just prepared one to fly to Yiling in case Jiang Wanyin was forced to return on his own without me but there’s more than enough fuel to get us all the way to Nightless City.”

“Flying? I can help with that!” Luo Qingyang calls; Lan Xichen turns to find her and Jiang Wanyin both running across the courtyard that connects the main complex to the buildings to the west with the particular haste of the closely pursued. “Time to go!”

“What have you done?” Lan Xichen asks, startled by the grim determination on Jiang Wanyin’s face and the tight-lipped worry on Luo Qingyang’s as they come to a stop that nearly vibrates with tension.

“Oh, you know, just stole some stuff, did some extra damage…Let’s talk about it in the air,” Luo Qingyang smiles, eyes wide, just as something explodes rather spectacularly from the direction they’d come running from, and finally there comes what Lan Xichen has been expecting since he’d arrived — shouting and the pounding of boots running to the source of the disturbance and, consequently, them.

“I’ll get the boats back to Yiling, Mianmian will fly you to Qishan,” Jiang Wanyin says just before they part ways, him racing headlong down the stairs towards the river and Lan Xichen following his other two companions on autopilot, his hand suddenly caught in Jin Guangyao’s as the man tows him along through the unfamiliar maze of Jinlintai.

“You certainly know how to make an exit, Miss Luo,” Lan Xichen shouts as they run amongst the chasing patter of erratic gunfire and he smiles a little when she shoots him another manic grin over her shoulder.

“Only when I hate somewhere as much as here!” she shouts over the boom of another explosion behind them — there’s no time to look and see where. “No offense, Jin-er-gongzi.”

“None taken, believe me,” Jin Guangyao replies, gentlemanly and sardonic at the same time.

They make it to the Jin hangar before the guards can catch up to them and, as promised, find the hangar doors thrown wide open and one of Jin Guangshan’s personal jets ready and waiting to peel out onto the runway. They race up the stairs to the door and Lan Xichen, boarding last, kicks the rickety staircase away hard enough that it rolls a few feet before it tips over, useless, as Luo Qingyang throws herself into the cockpit, the engines roaring to life instantly under her hands. Lan Xichen drags the door shut and joins her to assist in their getaway, though all she does is hand him a thick folder embossed with the Jin insignia and a computer disk in a soft blue plastic case to free her hands for take-off.

Luo Qingyang wastes no time getting them into the air just as a handful of Jins come skidding into the hangar to open fire at them, bullets glancing harmlessly off the body of the plane as they jet past.

Luo Qingyang is more than confident enough in the pilot’s seat that once they’re safely in the air Lan Xichen slips out of the cockpit to tuck the folder and the disk safely between the wine cooler and the wall of the galley on his way to join Jin Guangyao staring blankly out the window at the clouds racing by.

This jet is significantly more comfortable than the fighters they’d sent Wen Qing and Nie Mingjue to Qishan in, and as Lan Xichen settles into the indulgent comfort of a buttery leather seat across from Jin Guangyao he takes the time, finally, to look him over to his heart’s content and reassure himself that he’s truly uninjured, that he’s alive, and, most importantly, finally free of his father’s particularly cruel hatred.

Still, hale and hearty as he may be, there’s blood smearing on his cream-colored seat, and there’s finally time to do something about it. Without a word Lan Xichen leans back far enough to snag a cloth napkin and a bottle of club soda from the galley to wet it with and, thus armed, slides to his knees between their seats to start carefully cleaning someone else’s blood away from Jin Guangyao’s pale throat.

Jin Guangyao jerks a little, startled, but otherwise stays still to let Lan Xichen tend to him, nearly a mirror of when he’d allowed Lan Xichen to bandage the wound he’d received at the Jiangs’ warehouse. It feels as if they’ve lived an entire lifetime in the day that’s passed between then and now, and a glance at Jin Guangyao’s eyes hints that he may be thinking along similar lines. Certainly that night his eyes had held the same guarded vulnerability, the apparent disbelief that anyone would want to take care of him in this way, but also the desire to find out if he can have it anyway.

“You did well, A-Yao.” Lan Xichen folds the napkin to a fresh corner with which to begin cleaning some specks of blood from his cheek, gently, gently to avoid pressing too hard against a mottled bruise blooming across his jaw.

“You don’t know that.”

Lan Xichen hums, gentle disagreement, as he turns Jin Guangyao’s head an inch or two for easier access with a featherlight fingertip under his chin.

“I do, because I know that A-Yao always does his best, and that it is always significantly better than anyone else’s best could hope to be.”

Jin Guangyao visibly swallows and turns his head again to return to staring out the window with a sort of misty-eyed, focused intensity, lips pursed around whatever it is he clearly doesn’t want to say. Lan Xichen allows it, of course, and continues his careful cleaning until his hands are stained pink, there’s not a spot of white left on the napkin, and Jin Guangyao is biting his bottom lip hard enough that it’s turned pale under the sharp press of teeth.

“I have an idea for rescuing da-ge, but I don’t think he’d like it,” Jin Guangyao says when Lan Xichen stands to return the soiled napkin to the galley.

“His survival is paramount, his comfort with the method secondary,” Lan Xichen replies, though something anxious twinges low in his belly. He squashes it with effort and a reminder to himself that no matter what else happens, he would trust Jin Guangyao with not only his own life, but the lives of anyone and everyone he cares about as well. He’d said as much to Lan Wangji and he’d meant it.

Jin Guangyao is silent for long enough that Lan Xichen finishes cleaning up and returns to his seat to face his partner, now bearing little evidence of his night’s activities save for the dark circles under his eyes and the patches of deeper black on his clothing where blood has soaked through and dried into the fabric. When he settles, Jin Guangyao glances at him out of the corner of his eye, nervous and not even bothering to hide it.

“If he hates me when we’re through, whose side will you take?”

The question aches to even consider. Lan Xichen finds himself uncomfortable with the lack of a clear answer, his own conundrum from a mere hour ago turned around again and repeated before he could solve it once himself. In the end, though, there’s really only one answer that Lan Xichen is capable of giving no matter how difficult it may be to put in practice, should it become necessary.

“I would find a way to choose you both. Anything else is untenable.”

Jin Guangyao hides a yawn delicately behind one wrist and shoots Lan Xichen an apologetic glance (that is, of course, completely unnecessary).

“How long to Qishan, Miss Luo?” Jin Guangyao calls towards the cockpit.

“Hours yet, Jin-er-gongzi! Midday maybe, could be later if the wind in the mountains doesn’t favor us,” she shouts back over the thrum of the engines.

“Get some rest, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen coaxes. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

It’s remarkably reassuring when, with no further prodding, Jin Guangyao simply nods and takes his words — his comfort — at face value. He turns to curl into a little ball on his seat and promptly falls asleep like that, facing the rising sun and the clouds shrouding the ground from view, looking more peaceful than Lan Xichen has seen him yet.

... -.-. . -. . / -... .-. . .- -.-

SOMEWHERE

There are voices nearby.

Nie Mingjue notices this through the murky sludge of his thoughts and promptly forgets it again until the next murmur snags his wandering attention, though there’s no way of knowing how long that actually takes.

He thinks, as he slowly begins to surface from..wherever, that something somewhere might have gotten a little fucked up. He’d followed Wen Qing into the tunnels that connect the hangar to Nightless City, that much he remembers. Long, unbroken walls of steel and concrete, flickering bulbs stretching for miles in both directions, nothing else but the sound of his boots, his breathing, the soft clatter of his guns in their holsters.

And then, he winces as the memory slams into him like a freight train —

Shouting.

Bullets flying close enough to whizz past his ears before shattering the concrete mere inches behind his head.

The thudding of dozens of boots on concrete, the lights dropping red with the whooping of sirens.

Fists banging on steel doors that won’t open and his feet pounding, pounding, pounding, running down hallways that seem to have no end. An endless maze under a mountain, burning red red red, trapping him, dragging him back under —

He’s been here before. His mind slides sluggishly between half-remembered escapes, running, running, running, and falling,

falling,

falling—

“He’s awake.”

The words come, clear as a bell. Nie Mingjue clutches them, a lifeline thrown to him in the whirling, nauseating rush of drugged memory threatening to pull him under and keep him there, caught in the rapids until he drowns in them.

A sharp crack across his cheek snaps him out of it with a gasp that shudders in his aching chest. He doesn’t dare to look down to try to remember the cause of the aching — in his periphery he can see that he’s been stripped naked from the waist up with dark bruises blooming under his skin already, and he highly doubts that his weapons have been left anywhere even remotely accessible.

Of course they haven’t been. Now that he’s coming around towards lucidity he wonders how he ever thought coming here, now, would land him anywhere else.

This is, after all, Wen Ruohan’s Fire Palace, and the only one allowed tools with which to inflict injury are Wen Ruohan and his “doctors”.

Nie Mingjue breathes, sucking in lungfuls of iron-thick air and choking on the stench of rotting blood that permeates the walls, the floor. He always leaves here smelling like it, the tang of it in his hair and in his nose for days after he’s kicked the brown dust of it off his feet.

“Hold him.”

Nie Mingjue fights on instinct against the hands that clench around his wrists but before he can do anything more than snarl and flinch they’re not hands, they’re straps of leather biting into his flesh and crushing his bones, and his thrashing does nothing at all to stop the glint of a silver needle disappearing into his neck.

Within a few too-quick heartbeats his body is burning, flames roaring through him in time with his rabbiting pulse. He’s lost in it again, unable to think beyond the flames licking under his skin and burning away every piece of him that dares to exist under Wen Ruohan’s tyranny.

It fades after a brief eternity, and when sense returns Nie Mingjue finds himself straining against his restraints hard enough to bruise, ankles and wrists aching in the dull way of too-tight manacles, and fighting hard for each breath that feels like fine shards of glass in his throat.

“Again.”

He barely has time to mumble a furious, “No!” before there’s another pinch in his neck, another wave of unbearable fire, as inescapable as it has been for nearly all of his life.

For a while, he’s sure he’s never known anything but this at all.

There’s no way of knowing how much time has passed since the first injection when he regains control of himself again, but the pain radiating through every nerve in his body has at least burned away the last of his confused lethargy and left him horribly clear-headed, everything sharp-edged and gleaming with the aura of a migraine he’s too overwhelmed to truly feel like he should.

His restraints loosen enough for him to be sat up by rough hands under his shoulders, and he’s unsurprised to find himself face to face with Wen Ruohan — the pair of them have sat here, in these exact places, far too many times for their old song and dance to change now.

“Mingjue, Mingjue,” Wen Ruohan chides in Nie Mingjue’s mother tongue – an insult from that mouth, here like this. “How many times must I remind you of your place in this world, hm? Your stubbornness will soon outstrip your usefulness to me; you’re going to force my hand and there will be no one to blame but yourself.”

Nie Mingjue takes great pleasure in clearing his mouth of the blood from his swollen, bitten tongue by spitting it right into Wen Ruohan’s eyes. He takes even more pleasure in having goaded Wen Ruohan into swearing as he swipes the back of his hand across his face — almost enough to make the consequences worth it.

Almost.

“Childish. Again.”

Nie Mingjue’s voice cracks around his shredding vocal cords as he screams loudly enough that it reverberates off the dingy tile on all sides, echoing back to him even through the roaring inferno of his heartbeat.

Time moves strangely, sluggish fits and starts that limp towards lucidity and yet somehow eternities pass in minutes, everything about Wen Ruohan just the same as it was before whenever he’s able to open his eyes again, even if something else has changed. Doctors in their white and red coats come and go, slipping through his fingers like minnows following a current he can only attempt to stand against. Wen Ruohan sits sneering at him, ordering unseen hands to torment him, and Nie Mingjue uses every remaining ounce of his unbroken will to not lose himself in it completely.

When he resurfaces enough for conversation he’s once again flat on his back, a leather band tight across his forehead and his manacles cinched as tight as before to pin him to the steel table more suited to dissection than the repose of anyone living.

“He’s awake.”

Nie Mingjue closes his eyes against the halogen glare of the lights overhead and can do nothing to stop the tears born of exhaustion and frustration that leak from the corners of his eyes to run down his temples into his hair. (Sometimes he thinks that the worst thing he can be in this life is awake.)

Quite as if their conversation had only paused for seconds (though Nie Mingjue is…reasonably sure they’ve been at this for at least a day or two, perhaps more), Wen Ruohan tells him, “You’ve been betrayed, Mingjue.” He says it with an audible air of indolence like he’s lounging back in his chair, a bored emperor sitting in his throne hoping torture might make his life a little more interesting. “I would usually assume that I wouldn’t need to tell you by whom, but it seems in this instance your foolish desires have clouded your judgment so thoroughly you can’t see the snake twining around your own ankles.”

Nie Mingjue breathes through the fury searing its way through his abused veins and glares at the ceiling despite the blinding light overhead. Of course Wen Ruohan believes Nie Mingjue has been betrayed — wasn’t that the whole point of Lan Xichen’s plot to deliver them to the Yiling Laozu? His plan hinges on Wen Ruohan believing that Nie Mingjue has failed him! He reminds himself that this is precisely what they’d intended, that this must be his punishment for failing rather than for betraying Wen Ruohan and returning to beard him in his own den which is the only explanation as to why he’s still alive in this fucking hellhole—

Unless Wen Qing lied to them all and led him straight to a trap she was perfectly positioned to set—

Or—

“Xiandu,” a smooth, mellow voice says and as hotly as he’d burned a moment ago Nie Mingjue feels his blood turn to ice in the next.

He stares up into the light overhead until he can see the filaments of the bulb, the glare of it filling his vision and leaving dark afterimages behind his eyes that he can’t blink away. The table he’s strapped to is folded in half with a screech of rusted metal, his head still secured in place so that he’s forced to sit up and face Wen Ruohan whether he wants to — is able to — or not.

His vision swims with pain, fatigue; the dark blotches the light had left behind hide the owner of the second voice for a long moment, but even without seeing his face, and even considering the relatively brief time their paths have aligned, Nie Mingjue would know him anywhere.

“Oh, you really weren’t expecting this at all, were you?” Wen Ruohan sneers. Nie Mingjue works to keep his breathing even while his vision clears against his will, and when he can see again he meets wide, dark eyes in a pale sweetheart face, a cruel smile he’s never seen before dimpling Jin Guangyao’s cheeks.

“He’s far too shortsighted for someone of your intelligence, Xiandu,” Jin Guangyao says smoothly, dispassionate and looking down his nose at Nie Mingjue in the particularly haughty way of the Jin. “Is such a blunt tool really worth the effort of sharpening?��

Wen Ruohan chuckles and it makes Nie Mingjue’s skin crawl, the easy back and forth, the way Jin Guangyao’s expressive eyes are full of disdain, the way Wen Ruohan is stroking Jin Guangyao’s hand laid on the arm of his chair with just his fingertips, somehow more salacious and proprietary than outright groping him would be.

“Perhaps not,” Wen Ruohan muses. “Perhaps his usefulness lies in entertainment, particularly if your idiotic father truly intends to give you to me.”

Jin Guangyao smiles again, dimpling and sweet as he sidles closer to Wen Ruohan. “My father was eager to be rid of me and I of him. My loyalty lies here.”

Nie Mingjue jerks once in his restraints, unable to stop the urge to at least make an attempt to get free and, if he’s lucky, loop his hands around Jin Guangyao’s skinny throat to squeeze the miserable life out of him.

But of course Nie Mingjue can never hope for luck.

Being betrayed by Lan Xichen when they’d thought Wei Wuxian to be their enemy had hurt, but somehow this is worse. He’d worried about Jin Guangyao, done what he could to comfort him, felt some small hint of his relief when his younger brother had been unexpectedly returned to him safe and sound. He’d been given an easy escape but he’d stayed with Jin Guangyao when his survival was uncertain, simply because he couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving him to face his fate alone.

Nie Mingjue had trusted him, against all the odds.

Jin Guangyao clucks his tongue in disapproval and steps away from Wen Ruohan’s side to approach Nie Mingjue and he jerks again, leather creaking and metal rattling as he fights to keep his eyes trained on the target his hands ache to crush.

When Jin Guangyao is close enough to touch, he strokes the back of his knuckle down the curve of Nie Mingjue’s cheek, and though Nie Mingjue tries he can’t even turn his head enough to attempt to bite the offending finger off at the joint.

“Mingjue,” Jin Guangyao chides, warm and patronizing, “has Xiandu finally succeeded in breaking your mind? You’re little better than a rabid dog like this. Perhaps I should let you follow in your father’s footsteps and simply put you out of your misery.”

Wen Ruohan chuckles with what sounds like genuine amusement, twisted as he is, and Nie Mingjue bares his teeth in a wordless snarl.

“Patience xiao-Jin, don’t you want to make it hurt?”

“Can he even feel pain if his mind’s too broken to string two thoughts together?” Jin Guangyao muses, a philosophical question that makes Nie Mingjue’s blood boil, enough that he finally finds the right muscles to spit blood at Jin Guangyao’s feet.

“This is your doing?” he snarls, clumsy on the bite-swollen tip of his tongue. “After everything—”

“Ah, he speaks at last! Truly remarkable after three doses of your Fire poison, Xiandu,” Jin Guangyao taunts with another caress down the side of his face, punctuating it with the tap-tap-tap of a fingertip under his chin, the drag of a single nail down the center of his bare, bloodied chest.

“Mingjue is far too resilient for his own good, he’ll need another few doses to calm down enough to be taken back to his cell. You and I have plenty of time to play together.”

“Mm so it would seem. Ah — careful Big Red,” Jin Guangyao tuts when Nie Mingjue jerks in his restraints again. “No damage unless I say so, don’t spoil our fun.”

“You fucking snake!” Nie Mingjue spits, venomous and bloody at Jin Guangyao’s feet. “Traitorous bastard, I should have drowned you in the river when I had the chance!”

Nie Mingjue registers the sharp crack of flesh a moment before his exhausted body catches up enough to realize it was Jin Guangyao’s knuckles across his cheek, and fresh pain (clean, honest pain, not the insidious venom of a needle under his skin) blooms red and black across half of his face.

“Disrespectful and arrogant, I would expect nothing less. Have you already forgotten who dragged whose half-drowned ass out of that water, you ungrateful—”

“Enough.” Wen Ruohan’s voice is sharp as a knife between the ribs, impatient for the first time Nie Mingjue has heard since he was captured. “I’ve no interest in your petty squabbling. Come here to me, Guangyao.”

Jin Guangyao turns and Nie Mingjue closes his eyes against the sight of him settling down primly on the arm of Wen Ruohan’s chair like he belongs there, like he’s some…pet for Wen Ruohan to play with.

He doesn’t want to know how many times his own brother has sat in that same spot, forced to play coy and meek to attempt to appease Wen Ruohan’s appetites long enough to survive. And yet Jin Guangyao goes to him willingly, sits at his side and lounges back, indolent, comfortable in his position. Nie Mingjue opens his eyes after a too-long moment of murmuring he can’t quite hear to see Jin Guangyao has turned to sling his legs over Wen Ruohan’s lap and bent down to speak directly into his ear.

“…even better poison than your Fire,” Nie Mingjue hears as Jin Guangyao sits up again to reach behind himself. “If you’ll allow this humble one to demonstrate, Xiandu. A thank you gift, for taking me in unexpectedly, hm?”

Wen Ruohan, smug and satisfied, simply smirks as he waves an indulgent hand, apparently in the mood to be generous to his newest torturer.

Nie Mingjue can’t take his eyes off the blade glinting in Jin Guangyao’s hand, carefully withdrawn from a sheath hidden in the small of his back. It’s long, he notes first, and obviously razor sharp where the thinnest of edges catches the glare of the single light over the table.

“It’s a hunting poison,” Jin Guangyao practically purrs as he turns the blade casually between his clever fingers, never straying from the hilt. “Harmless now while it’s dry, but once he’s wounded with it, and the wound exposed to air…” Jin Guangyao trails off meaningfully with a little smile, a tilt of his head. Wen Ruohan stares up at him where he’s perched just a few inches above him and Nie Mingjue’s lip curls with open disgust for the display.

Wen Ruohan tips his head to the side ever so slightly when Jin Guangyao stops spinning the blade long enough to press the flat of it to his cheek, a mirror of the way he’d caressed Nie Mingjue’s face, and Jin Guangyao’s smile takes on a strange edge, tilting higher at the left corner of his mouth.

“It’s faster than your Fire, I’ll admit, not much use for making him continue to suffer; but it’s quite effective for my purposes.”

“Your purposes,” Wen Ruohan repeats, amused. He tilts his head a little further and leans back, arm slung almost casually around Jin Guangyao’s hips to nearly pull him all the way into his lap. “And what would those purposes be? Revenge?”

“Mmm you could say that,” Jin Guangyao laughs, light and lilting.

His fingers blur and Nie Mingjue barely sees the moment he plunges the knife straight through Wen Ruohan’s chest.

Shock makes his entire body slacken and he can only watch dumbly as Jin Guangyao springs back from Wen Ruohan’s clawing hands, can only stare and stare and stare as his jailer — his tormentor, the bane of his existence — dies choking on his final breaths, hands curled uselessly around the hilt of Jin Guangyao’s knife like he’d intended to pull it out but simply died first.

“Mingjue, look at me.” Jin Guangyao is in front of him, bent at the waist to bring them eye-to-eye in an attempt to catch Nie Mingjue’s gaze. “Da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue sucks in a rattling breath and tears his eyes away from the corpse in the chair across from him with herculean effort.

“What the fuck was that?” he manages to ask, but Jin Guangyao doesn’t spare him the time to answer.

“I’m going to free you. If you kill me Huan-ge will be terribly upset with you, and be advised that he’s armed.”

“What the fuck did you just do?!” Nie Mingjue shouts. He strains against his manacles again until his right hand is freed and he can reach out to finally, finally get his fingers around Jin Guangyao’s throat and squeeze —

“Mingjue!!”

Jin Guangyao meets his gaze steadily and curls his fingers around Nie Mingjue’s to try to loosen their grip as Lan Xichen bursts into the room, a frisson of high-energy anxiety to cut through the murderous rage turning the edges of Nie Mingjue’s vision red. Every outburst he’s had (or nearly had) since the beginning of this mission has nothing on the fury raging through him now, and as Lan Xichen finishes removing the straps holding Nie Mingjue in place all he uses his freedom for is getting his other hand around Jin Guangyao’s neck as well.

“Mingjue stop it!” Lan Xichen shouts, sharp in his ear and cutting a narrow path through the haze. “Put him down, you’re killing him!”

“Good,” Nie Mingjue grits out between bared teeth, but between Jin Guangyao prying at his fingers and Lan Xichen’s unnerving strength yanking at his wrist he’s forced to drop Jin Guangyao the few inches he’d lifted him off the floor. The moment he’s free, he crumples, coughing and crawling weakly backward out of range as Lan Xichen steps between them.

Nie Mingjue is left with no choice but to focus on the other man, their even heights putting him in just the right place to see the steel in Lan Xichen’s gaze, the tense set to his jaw, the color high on his cheeks and his pupils dilated with what looks like pure adrenaline.

“He saved your life, Mingjue! If you kill him now you will find yourself answering to me, and I promise that you do not want to. Control yourself, we have to go.”

Nie Mingjue snarls and takes one step forward only to be held back by an iron bar across his chest – it’s not an iron bar, it’s Lan Xichen’s forearm pressed against him, but it certainly feels like iron, hard and utterly unyielding to the point of bruised aching as Nie Mingjue strains against him just to keep his feet underneath him.

“I will not be parted from either one of you, Mingjue, so control yourself, and we will all make our amends later! We have a job to finish.”

Nie Mingjue forces himself to take a deep breath in and hold it, his jaw aching with the force of his clenched teeth and his hands shaking where he’s got them fisted in Lan Xichen’s sleeves as if he’s going to force him away, though they both know he isn’t capable of doing so. Not now. He closes his eyes for a moment against the sight of Jin Guangyao’s eyes peeking over Lan Xichen’s shoulder, wide and afraid and innocent, with none of the cruelty Nie Mingjue had seen! No one is that good an actor, but there’s no trace of malice in him now, only concern and fear.

He’d seen it, but his mind is only barely his own and he knows that no one will trust what his eyes are telling him.

Not even himself.

Even still, Nie Mingjue isn’t buying the doe-eyed innocent act for a second, but Lan Xichen is right. They have a job to finish, and Wen Ruohan is dead. He opens his eyes again to find some of the ferocity has left Lan Xichen’s expression to be replaced by relief, and without sparing a thought for why he does it Nie Mingjue grabs his face between both palms to pull him into a kiss that’s more teeth than anything else, rough and demanding to try to burn through some of the energy he isn’t allowed to expel by strangling Jin Guangyao.

He feels like he’s fracturing, every emotion he could possibly feel flashing through him with no warning, everything dialed up to 11 and leaving him shaking with the need to do something, anything, to vent it.

“We need to go, Huan-ge,” Jin Guangyao calls from near the door. Lan Xichen returns one final brutal kiss before he withdraws and takes Nie Mingjue’s hand to tow him out of the room, through the labyrinthine hallways of the Fire Palace with a sense of purpose in his steps, a sense of direction. He doesn’t ask why Lan Xichen knows his way through the maze, he doesn’t ask why he trusts Jin Guangyao to lead them to safety rather than another trap, he doesn’t ask what happened or how long it’s been since he was captured, or why there’s no one here to stop them as they escape.

All he can do is follow, and when the tunnels begin to slope upwards he hurries along behind the others into fresh, clean air that doesn’t reek of anything but the faint whiff of sulfur-sharp smoke that clings to everything in Qishan.

They stop short at a few sharp claps from somewhere ahead and to the left, and when Nie Mingjue looks up it’s to find Wei Wuxian sitting on top of the wall that surrounds the Palace, one foot popped up on top of it and his elbow resting on his bent knee as he claps slowly, almost mocking, and offers them a little half-bow.

“A spectacular show from all of you, really. Well done,” he says, his voice colder than Nie Mingjue has yet heard it. “And now, I believe it’s my turn.”

#The Untamed Fanfic #3zun #The Man From Y.I.L.I.N.G.#Jin Guangyao #Nie Mingjue #Lan Xichen

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moonchild-in-blue · 3 months

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Can we talk about Turntail? Like I knew Queen the First (fifth? Miss Birdsong? Do you have a nickname for her that I’ve misremembered…) obviously had the voice of an angel, but these RUNS she is doing on this song?! They are so convoluted but she sings them so TIGHTLY?!?! And PRECISE?!?? How do I get more heart eyes over her, holy hell what a talent

You know what. It's currently past 3am and I'm playing Zelda because I can't sleep (running on sick hours over here), so yeah absolutely we can talk about Turntail 😌 Also, I don't really have a nickname for her, I just call her Miss Ma'am hahaha. Miss Birdsong is great, I'll borrow that.

(okay it is now past 4am i spent WAY too much time gushing over them sorry lol)

HONEY. THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING. If you think she sounds amazing as a BACKVOCALIST, then you're in for a treat to hear her as a main vocal of her OWN BAND HELLOOOOO.

I remember a few months ago in one of their (live? Q&A? one of them) instagram things, someone was commenting on how great she sounded, and one of the guys was like "yeah, and she didn't even get training, isn't that so annoying?", it was hilarious 😂 Miss Ma'am is a natural - no wonder Vessel got her (and the babes) to back him 💅

Turntail is fantastic, I've had it on repeat since Thursday. Their music is so interesting and unique, and a great of it is because of her singing. She does this crazy runs and unexpected intervals like it's nothing, and her tone is so so SO clear and stable. Her lows??? Like, honey can go reeeeal low and smooth and real high and crystalline in seconds just like that??

This song in specific, I super appreciate the eerie, melancholic vibes. It's such a great successor to The Collapse (their previous single), but somehow even better. And can we talk about that sexy bassline??? Johnny boy went HARD on it (like he always does. Same with my drummer boy Matt, he's fantastic. Also he writes a lot of the lyrics alongside Lyns, he's fantastic). I love the breakdown bridge and that last chorus so SO much. And the piano??? They always have the most heart-wrenching, soul-crushing, beautiful piano melodies, and yet I get pikachu faced everytime. What can't the queen do. Also, this is the first time they're using a voice effect-tune-thingy so, interesting choice there. The babes sound beautiful as ever too 💖

While my favourite thing from them is still the 1st ep (The Thing With Feathers - please please PLEASE go listen to it. The Downpour and The River are my favourite songs of them, they're so amazing, please I am begging you, you'll love it), you can absolutely hear how much better they get with each new thing they put out. I'm so so excited for when they finally release a full length album, it's been a long time in the making.

If you listen to their latest ep, Dancing In The Face Of Danger, you'll see that they went for a more upbeat vibe (notable on Pyre and Ever The Optimistic), so it feels great to hear the Sad Vibes™ again. Nothing against upbeat stuff (Pyre is one of their best songs fr), but I am an emo at heart sooo... yeah. Miss Birdsong sounds like an elf or some other woodland creature - idk if its just me but you can hear traces of folk music in it and ugh what a combo.

Super super reccomend you hear them live. There are a few recordings on YT, and some of them do feature one or both of the Espera babes too.

(not gonna talk about how once again i missed their concert 🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂 it was today/yesterday 🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂 i'm fine really not salty at all 😃😃😃😃😃😃)

Also - do not sleep on their Diamond Eyes cover. Genuinely does NOT feel like a cover AT ALL. Covering Deftones is so daunting because of how unique a they are, and by god those beautiful bastards did it. I do very much prefer their version to the og, she really shines vocally there.

#I am SO SORRY about the word vomit but I really do love them #i've been listening more of them than Sleep Token these past months lmao #it makes me sad that they still get so little views/traction (in comparison). obviously numbers are whatever but #they are genuinely such a uniquely talented band. they deserve a billion streams on every single song and video #their my babies 🥹💙🥹💙#i'm always down for some Exploring Birdsong discourse (should you ever want to talk some more *wink wink*)#ngl i do miss when they used to open for Sleep Token. obviously that's not *really* a feasible option anymore #and i guess they'd want to have that separation anyways since she is publicly on both things. which makes perfect sense but #ya know. i would've love to see them both at the same time. but whatever i am NOT missing the next show. no sir.#big huge ginormous hug for this because they've genuinely become one of my favourite bands and i love talking about them #darya answers #exploring birdsong

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roguemonsterfucker · 3 months

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More TheHunter adventures!

Despite being EXTREMELY sick with allergies today, I made major progress in my game. I took the time to look at all the weapons so I could figure out how to be more efficient with my shots and also get higher scoring trophies. I doubt I'll ever get super high scores and that's fine, but it's kinda fun to have something to aim for (pun not intended).

Not sure why I didn't get any pictures of them but I farmed saltwater crocs a lot today and was able to get a Gold quality one. No special colors yet, but I have high hopes for my crocs.

I spent some time deciding where to set up my lion hunting camp and just as I was going to place a tent there... uh. Something special appeared.

Albino wildebeest!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHH! Right where I was setting up my lion hunting camp.

This is my second rare color. Here's my two rare finds next to each other.

I also was finally able to hunt a raccoon dog! AND I got a Gold quality one!

I have high hopes for getting special colors of these guys eventually.

So pretty fun day, despite being unable to breathe because of allergies rofl.

Once again, y'all if you wanna play this game, it's SUPER on sale right now. Only $3 for the main game, but I do highly suggest the Master Hunter Bundle, which is about $14 and comes with some really good DLC. The best duck/goose hunting map is included in that bundle, as well as a few other good locations. Most of the DLC is at least 50% off, with many of them being 75% off. The only ones not on sale are the newest ones.

I think it's a super fun game, but I'm a weirdo who has liked hunting games since I was a kid despite loving animals. 😂 I just like exploration + seeing cool animals! And this game provides!

Also, if the game seems too hard... Just uh. Hit me up about mods/cheats. 😅 Personally I'm not "cheating." Just fixing a few accessibility issues. I still want hunting to be challenging. Defeats the point if I just spawn rare colors in rofl. But I have no judgement for anyone who wants to play whatever way and I'm happy to help folks make the game fun.

So yeah. Check it out if it appeals to you! It's got beautiful maps and beautiful animals. And it's multiplayer so you can join up with friends! I could take some folks hunting/sight seeing if they wanted so let me know if you get the game!

And you don't need all the map DLC to visit them! As long as the host owns a map, anyone they invite can come too. 🥰

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studentbyday · 11 months

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me on monday: decided to make a merve-like study schedule so hopefully i can overcome overwhelm and procrastination. 🤓 "+" means any amount of bonus time if i feel up to it, but i don't *have* to do more than already specified here.

D-40 DAYS TO FREEDOM

me today: i really wish i didn't have to study today. despite the study schedule, i spent way too much time procrastinating in bed.

also i started using obsidian today and it's...basically like OneNote?? the learning curve isn't even that huge. maybe the confusion starts when you try to zettelkasten and use plugins. i like it (zettelkasten) in theory, but i don't think it's for my already overwhelmed (and highly unorganized and scattered) brain struggling to understand the info for the first time on a tight schedule 😵‍💫

study:

send biochem paper (1st draft) ✅ (it's not done, but the 1st draft is ungraded and i have bigger fish to fry today)

write biochem discussion post ✅

1 section of mol bio notes (2 long sections total this week 😵‍💫) ✅ (why is it that accepting that i can't actually store in long-term memory all the new info they throw at us in the time they allot feels like giving up? i just got my midterm mark back and i didn't actually score that bad but i am exhausted just thinking that i have to do it all over again in december 😭 and then i'll wanna review the course content so that i don't feel so awful about myself not remembering things long-term, but this time at a more leisurely pace)

start mol bio assignment ✅ (and by that, i mean 1 tiny question 😂)

notes on 1 of 2 psyc ch from last week ✅

watch psyc overview + start 2nd ch from last week ✅ (thank god it's sm shorter than the 1st one 😵‍💫😌)

self-care:

physio exercises ✅

⏰: i expected the struggle but i made it to 5h today! i really need to take the breaks seriously tho, if i'm to last for longer...tmr i might have to try for 8 or so hours again, instead of the 4 planned above bc tHeRe'S sOoOo mUcH tO dOoOoOo (and i wanna finish them asap) 😵‍💫

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i-choose-the-danger · 2 years

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Lesson Learned

Whoa, new fic alert! I'm surprised at how quickly I wrote this one. Don't expect that speed to become a habit though. 😂 This is a Hogwarts Legacy fic, so obviously if you play the game or plan to and wish to avoid spoilers, you should probably save this fic for later.

Summary: Ominis has offered to help the new fifth-year student catch up on learning charms. Sebastian gets volunteered as tribute to be the student's practice dummy, and also learns never to go behind his best friend's back again. Fic below the cut.

**A little background info for those of you who don't know anything about the characters but still want to read it and not feel completely lost:

Ominis Gaunt (yes of THAT Gaunt family) and Sebastian Sallow are 5th-year Slytherin boys and they've been besties since they met at school

Anne Sallow, mentioned a few times, is Sebastian's twin sister who became too ill to go to school any longer and now stays home

Ominis is blind, born that way (not something I made up, it's canon)

The other student is the "main character" aka the player in the game/story, and they've started Hogwarts as a 5th-year so they have a LOT to catch up on

For the purposes of this fic, the character is a female Slytherin and I've named her Kathryn

the "Undercroft", where this fic takes place, is basically a hidden room in the castle that only Ominis's family knows about... Ominis only shared this secret with Sebastian who then shared it with the main character when he shouldn't have

I think that's all the background info you need to know if you don't know the game's storyline. Time-wise, this fic takes places somewhere in the middle of the school year, after Sebastian told the other student about the Undercroft and I'd say not long before they start looking for the Scriptorium for those of you who know the storyline.

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Kathryn anxiously paced in a circle across the stone floor in a corner of the Undercroft. Her nerves getting the better of her, she fidgeted with the spell book in her hands and began to rotate it cover over cover as she walked. There was a lot of work she needed to do if she was to get her magical knowledge up to snuff with the other fifth-years before the O.W.L. exams began at the end of next term. The one subject she seemed to excel at was potions, which Ominis struggled with quite a bit. In exchange for tutoring him, he had offered to go over charms he'd been taught in his earlier years. Kathryn was about to give up on waiting when she noticed the red glow pulsing and growing brighter near the entrance gate.

"Oh good, you made it!" Kathryn exhaled. She smiled as the gate lifted and Ominis strutted underneath it as he extinguished his wand. She took a seat on the floor, folding her legs underneath herself and placing the spell book beside her. "I was starting to think that you'd forgotten." Her fingers buried themselves in her long dark hair and twisted around the strands.

"I promised you that I would come. You know I'd never break my word. I had to make sure there were no prying eyes around." Ominis furrowed his brow when he realized her voice came from below him. "Are you sitting on the floor?"

"It's usually how I study."

"Well, that will not do. You deserve better than cold stone. Just a moment." Ominis didn't need his wand to navigate the Undercroft. Having spent so much time down there over the past four years, the area was completely committed to memory. He disappeared around a corner and came back just as quickly pulling what looked like two large green velvet couch cushions behind him.

"Where in the world...?"

"I deserve a medal for being able to memorize and navigate Sallow's 'organized chaos', as he calls it, down here." He handed a cushion to Kathryn and dropped the other behind himself before sitting down onto it. "Much better. Did you have anything specific you wanted to go over today?"

"Madam Scribner helped me find a copy of Standard Book of Spells for first-years with braille and said I could keep it for the term as long as I bring it back in perfect condition." She placed the book on Ominis's knee and kept her hand on top of the cover until he took the book in his hands. As he started to flip through pages, she added, "I feel silly having to look through a first-year book and not knowing some basic spells and charms. I really do appreciate you offering to help."

"I don't mind. Sebastian brought you here to have a safe space to practice, so it only makes sense to utilize your time learning what you can."

"I still feel bad about that. If I'd known it was your family's private-"

"Nonsense," Ominis cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "That fault lies with Sebastian, not you. I feel awful about snapping at you when I found out, so I suppose that makes us even."

"Fair enough. I got up to page thirty-two before morning classes started. I managed to spongify one of my books, which was fine until I realized I didn't know how to undo it and it bounced around every time I put it down." Kathryn huffed at herself, taking a seat on the cushion Ominis had given her.

"Ah, rookie mistake. Always learn a counter spell first." Ominis turned several pages in the spell book. "Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two..." He brushed his fingers across a line of bumps on the page and let out a quiet chuckle.

"What?" Kathryn asked.

"It's an... amusing spell," he told her. Ominis leaned his head from side to side in thought. "It's not one you see used very often. I don't think I've ever seen it used during classes."

"Well, now you've piqued my curiosity." Kathryn craned her neck to try to read the page Ominis had the book opened to in his lap. She lightly tapped a fist against his knee. "Come on. I want to cram the past four years of your knowledge into my brain before Christmas break. What is it?"

"It's called rictusempra." Ominis grimaced as a small wave of embarrassment came over him. "It's a tickling charm," he added, angling his face down towards the book in his lap.

"I beg your pardon? You're kidding." Kathryn scoffed and looked up at Ominis, whose cheeks were now dusted a shade of pink. "You're not kidding. Is it that bad? What happens if I use it?"

"It's what one would expect. It hits you here," Ominis mumbled, bracing an open palm over his stomach. He stretched his fingers out and wiggled them around. "It feels warm and kind of fuzzy at first, but then it wriggles out and becomes increasingly unbearable. It tickles like mad and you have no way to block it because it feels like it comes from inside you, if that makes any sense. Ugh..." Ominis buried his face in his hand and could feel himself blush.

"You speak from experience. Sebastian used it on you, didn't he?"

"Oh goodness me, Sebastian knows better than to try something like that. He may be brash and completely reckless, but he's not suicidal." Ominis closed his eyes and laughed at a memory sparked from the conversation. He gazed in Kathryn's direction. "It was Anne, his twin sister. I can't remember why, but I was in a foul mood and they were having none of it. Sebastian tried to cheer me up and nothing helped. Then I heard her cast the spell and I reacted almost instantly." He shuddered and scratched around his torso as if he could still feel the effects of the spell. He felt a light squeeze at his ribs and jerked away from the touch with a gasp, swatting his hand out towards Kathryn. "Noooo no no. That's not wise."

"So you're already ticklish to begin with," Kathryn giggled. She thought for a moment and looked at the book that was still open to the spell page in Ominis's lap. "This doesn't say what happens if you cast the spell on someone who isn't ticklish though. Would it have the same effect on them or would it be useless?"

"You really do have a habit of making me think of things differently, don't you?" Ominis quirked an eyebrow while he thought over the question. "I actually don't know. And you're the first person I know to even ask. I suppose we'd have to find a willing practice dummy."

At that moment, they heard the gate open behind them and heavy footsteps echoing down the stairs through the chamber.

"Ahh, there you two are. I figured you had to be down here when I couldn't find you in the common room or Great Hall. I guess this means you're not mad at me anymore for letting Kathryn into the Undercroft?" Sebastian directed at his best friend.

"Of course not. I understand why you let her down here. Whyever would I still be upset?" Ominis's tone was less than sincere, but Sebastian didn't pick up on it. "You have excellent timing though, Sebastian. You're a perfect dummy," he added, smiling as he imagined the scowl Sebastian must be wearing.

"I am NOT dumb!" Sebastian put his books down on a nearby chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"He means a practice dummy. No one is calling you dumb," Kathryn said, scolding Ominis by lightly backhanding his shoulder. "Ominis has been kind enough to spend time teaching me some charms and spells that you learned in previous years so I can catch up."

"Is that so? I can teach you spells that aren't in those books too. Just say the word." Sebastian felt a small pang of jealousy in that moment, even though he would never admit it. "So why do you need me to be your practice smarty?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake." Ominis groaned and rolled his eyes.

"This spell has to be used on a person and I didn't feel comfortable using it against Ominis. Besides, I wanted to test a theory." Kathryn stood and held out her wand towards Sebastian. "Odd question: are you ticklish?"

"What?!" Sebastian squeaked. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself and tried to remain calm as he took a few steps back. "I mean, of course not."

Sebastian glanced over at Ominis, who was wearing a smile that could only be described as pure evil. Ominis was fully aware of how sensitive Sebastian was, having heard him and his twin sister have countless tickle fights when they were younger.

"Oh, perfect! Let's see what happens then. Rictusempra!"

"No, wait!" Sebastian didn't have a chance to grab his wand and attempt to shield himself from the charm. A puff of silver glittery smoke shot out of the tip of Kathryn's wand and collided into Sebastian's torso. The boy gasped and instantly turned away from his friends as he doubled over, clawing at his vest.

"Did... did I do it wrong?" Kathryn asked.

"Not at all," Ominis replied in her direction. He stood and dropped the textbook back onto the cushion. "I suspect he's being stubborn and trying to fight it. What is he doing now?"

"He's kind of hunched over and jumping around like he needs to find a bathroom. I wish you could see him. It's utterly ridiculous." Kathryn clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her own laugh as Sebastian squealed.

"Rictusempra is meant to weaken your opponent. The spell starts to dissipate once its victim is too weak to function." Ominis heard Sebastian starting to hiss through his teeth to suppress his laughter. "Sebastian, you're only making it worse for yourself. And you're not being very helpful to Kathryn either. Bad form," he scolded. He cleared his throat to hide a deep chuckle when Sebastian squealed again. "She needs to see how these spells work to understand them."

As if on cue, Sebastian's legs gave out and he fell to his knees. He couldn't fight the wriggling sensations against his ribs and stomach any longer and giggles rumbled in his chest before flowing freely from his lips.

"Okay-hay-hay-hee-hee! She see-hee-hees!" Sebastian's dark hair was a complete frumpled mop over his eyes. His shirt was untucked and his vest was twisted around his torso as he continued to claw and swat at the tickling sensations pulsing through his body. "Please! I ca-ha-ha-ha-han't!" He was laughing so hard that his eyes were tearing.

"If you actually feel pity for him and want to stop the spell, there's another that would immobilize him. Simply aim your wand at him and say titillando," Ominis told Kathryn in a hushed tone.

"And that'll stop the spell?" Kathryn was skeptical knowing what the incantation translated to, but she knew Ominis wouldn't teach her a spell that would hurt someone. It seemed plausible to her that a counter-spell would have similar terminology.

"You have my word." It wasn't a lie... exactly. Ominis could never lie to her, but he was still quite the cunning Slytherin when the need called for it. He was also still annoyed at Sebastian for letting Kathryn into the Undercroft without his permission. There's that old saying about payback...

"Titillando!"

"Oh my God, NO!" Ghostly transparent purple-tinted hands appeared around Sebastian and started tickling any spot on him they could reach. He no longer had the strength to hold back his laughter and outright screeched before bursting into cackles and curling into a fetal position on his side as he repeatedly kicked at the air. "Help meeeee! I can't brea-hee-hee-heethe!"

"Ominis!" This time Kathryn backhanded his shoulder with a force that nearly knocked him off balance. "He's going to pass out."

"He'll be fine. The little prat had it coming. Just give it a minute." Ominis continued to listen to Sebastian's deep laughter and occasional squeal, closing his eyes and laughing himself as it reminded him of happier times they had together before Anne had gotten sick.

"I do not want to be sent to Azkaban for murder! Call them off!" Kathryn tried to sound stern, but she knew Ominis could sense the amusement in her voice.

"Very well. Spoil my fun then. Finite incantatem."

As Ominis spoke the spell and aimed his wand at Sebastian, the ghostly hands vanished. Sebastian spread out his limbs, collapsing face-down on the stone floor and taking in gulps of air.

"Sebastian?" Kathryn bit down on her thumb and felt incredibly guilty as Sebastian lifted his head and turned it to face her. "Are you... okay?"

"Don't. Touch. Me. You two... are in... SO... much trouble... when I can see straight," Sebastian mumbled in between fleeting breaths and residual giggles.

"Me?! I just did what Ominis told me!" Kathryn glared at the blond. "You said that would stop the spell!"

"Did it not? I was truthful," Ominis stated with a shtug. A red light pulsed from the tip of his wand as he held it out and slowly stepped over to where he could hear Sebastian still panting. Crouching beside his best friend, he kept his voice low. "I thought you knew me better, Sebastian. I never get mad at you. I get even." Ominis extended an arm and felt around until his hand touched Sebastian's hair. He gave it a few semi-sympathetic pats before standing back up. "Although, I do confess that I may have gone a tad bit overboard."

"If you could see how destroyed he looks... Overboard is an understatement," Kathryn sighed. She offered her hands to Sebastian and helped him to stand.

"Overboard?! I almost died. I felt my soul leaving my body." Sebastian draped an arm around Kathryn's shoulders and leaned against her as his other hand massaged into his aching ribs. "I'll let you off the hook this time because you're learning." He glared at Ominis through the dark curls that were still matted against his forehead from sweat. "YOU on the other hand, you'd better sleep with one-" he caught himself in the middle of his own sentence as he realized what he was saying.

"Oh I dare you to finish that," Ominis hissed. He chuckled darkly. "Anne isn't the only one who knows your weak points. Perhaps I should teach Kathryn the body-bind spell next and you can show her how well it works."

"Perhaps you two can keep me out of your nonsense and just help me with my homework so I don't fail and watch you go on to sixth year without me," Kathryn interjected.

"Quite right. I apologize. We have work to do," Ominis admitted.

"I need a shower... and a nap now." Sebastian let go of Kathryn and stood up straight, wincing at the soreness in his torso from laughing so hard. "This is far from over though. Watch yourself," he added to Ominis as he passed by to head back to their dormitory.

"He's not serious, is he? I'm going to feel horrible if I started something between you two." Kathryn folded her arms over her chest.

"Not to worry. Our friendship is complicated, but solid." Ominis' jaw clenched as he thought about his siblings. "As I hate my actual family, I assume this is how real brothers would get along. He'll forget about it by tomorrow."

"I'll take your word for it. Let's go over a few more spells before dinner, hmm?" Kathryn sat back down and grabbed the spell book, flipping through pages. "Preferably some I can use in dueling. I have a feeling Sebastian won't go easy on me if Professor Hecat pairs us up again."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The end! Hopefully y'all liked it. I have other Hogwarts Legacy drabbles knocking around in my head too. I love these two Slytherin boys so much. 😭 As always, likes and comments and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged. Thank you! 💗💗

#Ominis Gaunt #Sebastian Sallow #original character #Hogwarts Legacy #Slytherin #rictusempra #fanfic #tickle fic #ticklish!Sebastian #I feel like there needs to be a sequel #but I have other ideas for those boys #I'm becoming obsessed with them

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goldenlaurelleaveswrites · 1 year

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Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe ch 15

Juleka vs. the Forces of Chat Noir

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe (AO3)

Hi everyone!!!

I wanted to start out by thanking you all so much for your patience and ongoing support. 💖💖💖💖 I honestly thought I would get this chapter posted ages ago because it was 90% written before I started my spring semester. But then, (to absolutely no one's surprise) I ended up being very ambitious with the central project of my entire semester. That ate up pretty much all of my time and mental energy, which was why this ended up getting so delayed. But, I am now finished the semester on Friday and I spent yesterday finishing writing, and today revising. And now, here it is!!!

This chapter has been a long time coming (parts of it have been written for over a year 😂) and I'm so excited to finally share it with all of you. It ended up being way longer than expected, so make sure to settle in because it is a very long one.

A last bit of housekeeping. My eternal love and thanks to the my LBSC friends for cheering me on. Also a bug thanks to Min and Rierse for helping me remember what happened with some of the canon akumas and saving me from having to rewatch episodes. Finally, a huge thank you to Ver for talking me through all of my spirals and self-doubt I had with this chapter. Y'all are the best and I love you 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

With all that being said, again, thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy the chapter!!! 💖💖💖💖💖

_______________________________________________________________________

The air was warm, but there was a soft, cool breeze slipping through the city, ruffling her hair and carrying with it the sounds of the city at night. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, and the warm light of the golden hour had been replaced by the dusky blues and violets of twilight. In the approaching darkness, the skyline twinkled with the lights of the city, now come to life. It was a gorgeous evening. A perfect June evening. Except…

Where was he?

When Ladybug had shown up on the Liberty, it hadn’t come as a complete shock—though she hadn’t been expecting her quite so soon— what with her and Marinette’s little talk in the shoe store. Honestly, she had been flattered when she had realized Ladybug had been thinking about entrusting her with more responsibilities. And she was only too happy to fill in for Ladybug for patrol for the next couple of weeks. She was just glad Marinette was taking the time to work on something for herself. And patrolling with Chat Noir would be… fine.

Probably.

Maybe.

Hopefully…

And where was he anyway?

He was fifteen minutes late now and she couldn’t exactly start patrol without him. Well, she probably shouldn’t start without him, given this was her first patrol. But if he wasn’t there in another five minutes, she was going to start without him anyway. She wasn’t about to let Ladybug down. Not when she had come to her for help.

And not when she had looked so relieved when she had agreed to the favour.

She leaned back on her hands and looked up at the sky, painted with the promise of the oncoming night. The breeze ruffled her hair again, and she sighed.

She could definitely get used to evenings like this.

It was such gorgeous evening, she could just sit forever. But she had a job to do. And if relaxing on a rooftop on an evening like this was this wonderful, racing across the rooftops had to be even better…

She was just pushing herself to her feet when the soft thud of boots hitting the roof flicked at her ears. As she rose fully to her feet she turned to find Chat standing behind her, staring at her.

“Oh. It’s you,” he said flatly.

“Excuse me?”

Instead of answering, her tapped on his baton and a section of it slid open to reveal his communicator. He started tapping on the screen; she watched as his eyes scanned back and forth as if he were reading something. “I thought she was trying to make a joke,” he mumbled, a frown creasing his face.

“About…?”

He didn’t look up from his communicator. “About her calling in someone else to patrol.”

“And why would she joke about that?” she asked, crossing her arms as she watched him type out what she assumed was a message to Ladybug.

Finally, he looked up from his screen to meet her eyes. “Because it’s our thing.” He had left the word ‘just’ unsaid, but it was plenty clear in his voice.

“Well, I’m standing in for her,” she said tartly. He hadn’t even been here five minutes and already, her patience was waning thin. Maybe she should have just started patrol without him…

“You can go home,” he said brusquely, “I can easily handle patrol myself,” he grumbled. “I don’t need your help.”

“I’m here, like she asked me to be” she snapped. “Now come on, we’re already starting late enough as it is.”

Petty? Yes.

Did she care? No.

Chat shot her a sour look, and then without waiting, he launched himself into the air and toward the next roof over with his baton.

But it didn’t matter.

She would have no problem keeping up.

***

The night air whipped at her face as she raced across the rooftops and sailed through the air. Her feet barely touched the shingles as she tore across the rooftops. And she swore she flew just a little bit higher with every leap into the air. The speed with which they were racing was… exhilarating.

Even if it was so plainly obvious that he was trying to show her up. Or leave her behind.

Knowing him… it was probably both.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, his mouth settling into a tight line at the sight of her keeping pace with him. As soon as he landed, he used his baton to launch himself into the air in an attempt to pull ahead.

Like it was some sort of race.

But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

And if he wanted to play stupid games?

She pulled her bolas from her waist and spun them, not missing a single step as she whipped them out to latch onto some scaffolding ahead of Chat. The air whistled past her as she swung through the air, pulling ahead of Chat.

He would have to live with winning stupid prizes.

***

Ladybug was already waiting for her in amongst the pile of stuff in the shadows of the stage’s scaffolding by the time she made it home from patrol. She dropped down onto the deck and ducked into the cover of the chaos of the the junk her ma refused to part with.

“How did it go?” Ladybug asked in a low voice.

“Good,” she murmured as she dropped her transformation. It had been good. Other than all the business with Chat…

Ladybug must has seen her thoughts reflected in her face, because her brows furrowed and her eyes were suddenly glimmering with concern. “If you don’t have the time, or if it’s stressing you out you don’t have to-“

“It really was fine,” she promised, grasping Ladybug’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze as she haded her the panjas bracelet. “Chat just… he wasn’t thrilled I was the one he was patrolling with.”

Something akin to the beginning of a grimace crossed Ladybug’s face. “I’m sorry about him. I told him… but I guess I should have given him more warning or something.”

“You told him. That should have been enough.”

“Yeah, well…” Ladybug said noncommittally. “Other than that, things were ok?”

“More than ok. It was actually pretty nice. Good way to blow off some steam.”

Ladybug laughed quietly, nodding her head. “Yeah, it is.” The laughter faded from her face, replaced by hesitancy. “I know I asked you to cover my patrols with Chat for me, but I was wondering… would you- would you be comfortable covering my solo patrols as well? It’s just, I- I’m working on a really tight deadline with this project and it’s really important to me,” she explained, her words tumbling out in an ever increasing tempo as she wrung her hands. “The first one isn’t until the end of the week so you would have some time to adjust. And if you needed anything I would just be a message away! My kwami can received messages even when I’m not transformed so if there were any issues or you felt overwhelmed I could-“

“It’s no problem.”

Ladybug’s whole body heaved with her sigh of relief. “Thank you, Juleka. You have no idea what this means to me.” Oh, she had a pretty good idea… “And I’m sorry to ask you in the first place. I would just get Chat to do solo patrols until I’m done but-“ Ladybug hesitated, obviously debating with herself. But then she sighed again. “I would feel better if I had someone I trust patrolling with him…”

“I won’t let you down.”

Ladybug’s eyes darted down to the panjas bracelet before returning to meet her own, a smile curling across her face. “I know.”

***

Chat was already waiting on the rooftop by the time she got there. He was perched on the edge of the roof, one leg dangling over the edge of the roof, with the other propped up so his hand could rest easily on his knee. He was leaning back on his other hand, and his face was tilted towards the sky so that his features perfectly caught the last of the golden rays.

He was the picture of casual elegance and charm.

Easy.

Effortless.

And totally practiced.

She recognized the pose from one of the ads that had been plastered across the city a while back.

After the her first few outings as Purple Tigress, she had gotten the hang of landing silently, no matter the force with which she had jumped or fallen. But she let herself land with a soft, but still audible thud.

“M’lady-“ he began so say as he turned, his face already breaking into a suave smile before his gaze landed on her. His smile immediately fell. “Oh. It’s you again.”

“It’s me again,” she agreed as she made her way towards him. But he ignored her in favour of turning back to look over the city as he pulled up the communicator in his baton. He began typing furiously, and a second later, she heard the familiar sound of an outgoing message. Followed by another. And another.

“So…” she said slowly, drawing the word out, “are we going to patrol or…”

“I’m waiting for Ladybug.”

“She isn’t coming,” she sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s why I’m here, remember?”

“That was last time,” he said, still typing on his communicator. And still pointedly not looking at her.

“And this time. And all her patrols for the next couple of weeks.”

Another chime of an outgoing message rang from his phone, and his fingers stilled over the communicator. Then he snapped it shut and stowed it on his belt before standing. Finally, he turned to look at her with pursed lips and an exaggerated sigh. “Look, you’re a temp,” she raised her brow, and crossed her arms for good measure, but he continued on, completely undeterred. “And you’re still pretty new at all of this. But there’s something you need to understand.”

“And that is?”

“Ladybug and I… we’re in this together.”

“And now I’m in it too.”

“No,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. Like he was correcting a silly thing a child had said. “She and I are in this together. It’s been us from the start. And no offence, but you’re no replacement for her.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not trying to replace her. I’m just filling in for a bit.” He looked like he had more he wanted to say. Before he could begin to say anything else, she turned, glancing back over her shoulder as she loosened her bolas from her waist. “Now are we going to patrol, or what?’ Without waiting for a response, she snapped her bolas and swung herself into the air.

***

The wind whipped through her hair as she flew across the rooftops. They were going so fast, her feet barely touched the ground. It seemed Chat still had a point to prove.

Though what he was hoping to accomplish—what he was thinking he would accomplish if he proved his point—was frankly, beyond her. Did he actually think she would stop showing up for patrol?

Her bolas cracked like a whip, the sound cutting through to city noise as she latched onto a chimney and swung herself to land on the next roof.

“You know,” Chat grunted as he landed on the roof a step behind her, “I can handle this on my own.”

It was a funny thing for him to say, given he had been petulant about Ladybug not being there in the first place. “Like I said,” she said as she vaulted over a retaining wall, “Ladybug asked me to fill in.”

“You could go home early.”

“I’m not going to go back on a promise.” It took her a few seconds to realize Chat wasn’t running beside—behind—her anymore. She slid to a stop and turned to look back at him. He was standing a few feet back, frowning at her with his arms crossed. “Why did she need you to cover for her anyway?”

“Didn’t she tell you?”

“She said she had something she needed to work on, but she wouldn’t tell me what.”

“There’s your answer then,” she sighed.

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.

“And why did she ask you to fill in for her?” he demanded, crossing his arms even tighter across his chest as he stalked a few steps toward her.

She couldn’t exactly tell him Ladybug had asked her to cover for her because she—as a civilian—had encouraged Ladybug—also as a civilian—to take time to do something for herself. Like make herself a nice dress for the dance she was going to with the guy she liked…

“I guess the same reason she’s asked me to help out in battles,” she said, feigning blithe ignorance and biting down hard on her sharper words. She was already getting a headache from his petulance, and she wasn’t in the mood to pick a fight.

Finishing one on the other hand…

“We don’t need you for patrols,” he said acidly. The ‘for patrols’ sentiment sounded like an afterthought. “Ladybug and I are perfectly capable-“

“She’s busy.”

“Well, I’m fully capable of handling it on my own. We never asked the other part-timers to help out with them.”

She shrugged. “Well, Ladybug asked me to. Now are we going to continue?”

Chat said nothing, but he sniffed as he brushed past her to continue along the roof. She bit back a sigh, but indulged in rolling her eyes as she turned to follow him.

***

The bright, late-morning sun filtered through the porthole into her room, filling the room with warm light from the way it reflected off of her dressing table mirror. Which was directing the light right into her eyes.

Squinting with disgust, she burrowed back into the somewhat dark depths of her sheets to shelter herself from the sun that had no right being so bright this early. Well, early was a relative statement. Couaffaines were not morning people.

And she especially, was not a morning person on the best of days.

The late night patrol from the night before—which had resulted in a Chat-induced headache—hadn’t exactly helped. That and…

In the relative safety of the shadows of her bedding, she frowned at her phone screen

Alya 🦊?! unsent a message

It wasn’t like Alya to unsend messages. There was the odd occasion where Alya sent a message to the girl’s chat instead of the class—minus Chloe and Sabrina—chat. But that only happened once in a blue moon. And she never bothered to unsend the messages.

The only reason Alya would unsend a message would be if she didn’t want someone to see it.

But she had sent it to the Adrienette chat… not the girl squad one…

None of the other girls had acknowledged the unsent message, and she hadn’t had a chance to see it before Alya had retracted it. She had been a little busy trying to will the sun to shine somewhere else so she could go back to sleep.

The little dots indicating Alya was typing again appeared on the screen. She watched as they appeared and disappeared before, after what felt like an eternity, she sent her message.

Alya 🦊?!: so r we still on for meeting at 11?

She frowned.

There was no acknowledgement of the unsent message. No indication of why she had retracted it.

Nothing.

It was… weird.

Rose 🌹💗: Yes!! I just have to let my nails dry

Alix 🛼 : gonna be late

Alix 🛼 : still at the park with Kim and Max

Alix 🛼 : Kim actually thinks he can win this race 🙄🙄🙄

Mylène 🌼 : I’m just finishing up some gardening

Mylène 🌼 : I’ll need a quick shower but I’ll be there

Rose 🌹💗: @Queen of Darkness are you alive yet, bijou??

Queen of Darkness 🦇: barely

Queen of Darkness 🦇: but I’ll be there

Like she would miss this meeting.

Rose 🌹💗: 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Alya 🦊?!: cool

She frowned again as she stared at Alya’s response, which felt entirely too short for a confirmation they would all be attending a scheming session. Alya was being… weird was the only word she could really use to describe it. And it wasn’t just the message that was weird.

Alya was always a bit weird, especially with all the Adrien stuff looking back on it now. But ever since the shopping trip, she had been especially weird. When she had, as offhandedly and casually as she could, mentioned it to Rose, Rose had simply brushed it off as Alya just being focused on getting Adrien and Marinette together before the school year ended.

But she couldn’t shake the way Alya had looked to her for agreement in the shoe store, or the look she had given her when Luka had shown up and derailed Alya’s scheme. And then there had been the text… the short, curt, and abrupt text that still had her on edge.

Alya hadn’t said anything since. And Alya was not afraid of confrontation. It was the little things. The little looks Alya shot her when she thought she wasn’t looking. And now…

That unsent message was giving her vibes.

She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was… it was weird.

She shook her head. Maybe it was something. But maybe it was nothing. She had been counter-scheming for so long, maybe she was seeing things where there weren’t any? Either way, it was obvious she needed a bit of a break.

Tapping on her screen, she pulled up her text chat with just Rose.

Queen of Darkness 🦇: do you want to go our for lunch after the meeting?

Queen of Darkness 🦇: maybe grab some frozen yogurt after and go for a walk in the park?

They were long overdue for a real date. And it would be nice to get off the boat and spend some time with just Rose. And hopefully, it would help her unwind and relax a bit.

Rose 🌹💗: I already have plans!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Rose 🌹💗: I’m sorry bijou 😭😭😭😭😭😭

She sighed. She had been hoping for a nice day out, but it would have to wait. She started to type out a reply when Rose, in typical fashion, continued her barrage of messages.

Rose 🌹💗: I would reschedule them if I could but they’re important

Rose 🌹💗: and time sensitive

Rose’s messages made her pause. It wasn’t unusual for Rose to have important plans she couldn’t reschedule. After all, when she was video chatting with Prince Ali, they were at the whims of his often erratic schedule. But Rose always told her if she was chatting with Ali, or what her plans were for that matter.

Rose wasn’t obligated to tell her what her plans were. And she never expected her to. But Rose always told her. Unprompted too. And Rose knew she didn’t have to, and that she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t offer the reason herself because she wanted to respect Rose’s privacy.

So it wasn’t a problem that Rose hadn’t said what her plans were. But it was… well, she couldn’t help but feel it was weird.

Rose 🌹💗: can I take you out tomorrow? 💖💖💖💖💖💖

Queen of Darkness 🦇: of course 💜 and don’t worry about it 💜

She let her phone drop from her hand to bounce against the mattress as she stared up at the ceiling, partially obscured by the sheets she still had shielding her from the light. Maybe she was reading too much into things. After all, people unsent messages. And Rose knew she didn’t have to share every detail of her life. But she just couldn’t ignore that niggling feeling in the back of her head.

And she doubted she would be able to get rid of it any time soon.

Before she could dwell on it further, or drag herself from her bed to start getting ready like she probably should have fifteen minutes ago given the time, the sound of footsteps against stairs caught her attention.

“Morning little miss sunshine,” Luka chuckled as their door squeaked out.

Groaning, she sat up, her bedding still bundled around her, and gave him the evilest glare she could muster. He was in an entirely too good of a mood considering it was still technically morning.

He was even humming as he made his way over to his side of the room. And smiling stupidly down at the bags he was carrying…

Her eyes zeroed in on the shopping bags he was carrying. They were all from thrift stores Marinette had, at this point, dragged everyone to. He had mentioned that he would be looking for something to wear to the dance this weekend. After she had pestered him repeatedly that he couldn’t show up looking like a dork. Well, as much of a dork as he usually looked.

“So, what did you get?” she asked as she emerged from her bed to take a couple steps across the room.

“Nothing that will interest you,” he started to say, trailing off as an even dopier grin spread across his face as he glanced down at the contents of his bags.

Interesting…

She moved to peer into the closest bag, but with lightning quick reflexes—that would have caught her off guard if she didn’t know he moonlighted as Viperion—he snatched the bag away. “You know I’m going to see what you’re wearing eventually, right?” she grumbled. “It’s my school’s dance, remember?”

“Yeah, well…” Luka mumbled as his face and ears turned a particularly interesting shade of pink. “Don’t forget, we’re moving up dye night because of the dance.”

“Like I would forget,” she said, scoffing at his blatant change in topic.

“And what happened to you last night?”

“Hmm?”

“That miniseries you love, you know, the one that adapts all those creepy short stories-”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“It was on last night, and I was going to tell you but I couldn’t find you.”

She shrugged. “I was around.” Technically, it was true. Her patrol had ended about the same time the show usually started. But Ladybug had been late picking up the miraculous, which was unsurprising given Marinette’s tendency to get lost in the process when she had a project to work on. And rather than going out for an extra run and making Ladybug wait for her, it had made more sense to just hang around the Liberty. Sure, she had been hiding, but she had been around.

“Doing what?”

“It was the witching hour, do you really want to know?” With that, she threw on her robe, and hastily made her way to the kitchen—and some much needed coffee—before Luka could ask any more questions.

***

“Everything go ok tonight?”

“Yeah. It was nice to stretch my legs.”

“Great!” Ladybug beamed, her eyes vivid and sparkling. “And you’re all set for tomorrow?”

She nodded. Tomorrow would be her first solo patrol, and honestly, she was excited for the chance to patrol the city without having to drag along an irritable cat.

“Ok, then I can meet you at your place at nine-” Ladybug’s words cut off at her cringe.

“Sorry, I forgot, I might be a little late tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve got plans that probably won’t wrap up until half past eight at the earliest.” Knowing Alya, the meeting would definitely go overtime, meaning she would be cutting it pretty close. “I can find a way to bail…” But given the way Alya had been acting lately… it would probably be best not to leave early… Alya had been a little too pushy about her involvement and support of the Adrien schemes. To say nothing of all the… the vibes she had been getting from Alya…

“Hang onto it until the end of patrol tomorrow then,” Ladybug said, pressing the miraculous back into her hands.

“What? But…” Ladybug always took back the miraculous after battles and patrols. As far as she knew, none of the temp heroes had ever gotten to hold onto their miraculous outside of active use.

Ladybug closed her fingers around the miraculous. “I trust you with it.”

***

She had been looking forward to her first solo patrol. She had been looking forward to taking in the city at night in peace. Or at least, as much peace as could be found in Paris at night.

The point being, she had been looking forward to it.

And then Shadowmoth had just had to go and ruin her evening.

What was worse, he was interrupting Marinette.

And given how tight Marinette’s deadline was… she had no interest in letting this fight drag out.

“Taste my wrath!” Jets of molten cheese burst from the prongs of Fondoom’s oversized fondue fork and streaked through the air toward Ladybug. Ladybug dove to the side, ducking behind the cover of an abandoned car. The stench of sour milk, compost, something akin to Kim’s gym socks, and a general funk hit her like a wall with such force it almost knocked her over. From behind the car Ladybug had rolled behind she could hear gagging.

“That is revolting,” she gasped as she stumbled back a few steps, narrowing missing a puddle of gooey cheese. The last thing she wanted to do was get stuck in the stuff.

“Artisanal cheeses are wasted on the likes of you,” Fondoom snarled before lunging at her with his fork. She danced out of the way, nimbly—but narrowly—avoiding being speared by the fork. Just like the odour he and his attacks were emitting, Fondoom was relentless. His fork was a silver blur as he swung and stabbed at her, all while trying to douse her in molten cheese. She was too fast for him, but she was getting nauseous.

She unfurled her bolas from her waist and snapped them at Fondoom, throwing him off balance. He had to catch himself against the ground using his fork. But what he had failed to notice was how close he had gotten to some of the pungent puddles he had left all over the place.

“No. One. Appreciates,” he growled as he struggled to pull his fork from the cheese, “Fine. Cheeses. Anymore.” He wrenched his fork free with a roar.

“Not when they smell like that,” she quipped, snapping her bolas as he raised his fork, sending him skittering back to plant his feet directly in the cheese he had just freed himself from.

“Lucky charm!” She looked in the direction of Ladybug’s nasally shout, being careful to keep an eye on the akuma as he struggled against his own cheese. Ladybug’s yoyo shot up into the air as she pinched her nose shut with her other hand.

A pair of red and black spotted nose plugs appeared in a rain of sparkling light before dropping into Ladybug’s outstretched hand. She slipped one over her nose, and then turned to her. “Tigress!”

She easily caught the nose plug, and slipped it into place.

“Sweet relief,” she sighed, and Ladybug immediately burst into giggles. “What?”

“You- you sound funny,” Ladybug laughed, “And you’ve got cheese in your hair.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, having to hold back her own laughter at how oddly nasal and high her voice sounded, “so do you.”

Ladybug blinked at her, and then her giggles descended into howls of laughter as she picked her way through the cheese covered street. By the time Ladybug had made her way over, she was almost doubled over; they had to lean on each other as they tried to control their laughter.

“If- if my hair stinks of cheese after your miraculous cure-” she gasped between peals of laughter, “you owe me a bottle of shampoo. Make that three,” she added, playfully shoving Ladybug’s shoulder.”

At some point in their hysterics, Fondoom had managed to fall flat onto his back into the cheese and was well and truly stuck. And it seemed the civilians who had been cowering in the shops and cars lining the street had caught on that the danger had passed, as they were beginning to emerge. Vaguely, she was aware of some pointing their phones at her and Ladybug as they both fought to keep it together.

But it was hard.

Between how ridiculous they sounded and must have looked with cheese in their hair, and with how outright ridiculous this akuma had been—seriously, what had Shadowmoth been thinking?—and how tired they both were, how could they not laugh?

“We should- we should…” Ladybug wheezed as she wiped a stray tear and gestured uselessly at Fondoom, who had seemingly given up struggling against the cheese and was just staring forlornly at the sky, muttering about how ‘no one appreciated traditional cheese anymore.’

“I’m- ready when you are,” she gasped as she tried to push herself up from leaning on her friend.

“M’lady! I’m-” Chat’s breathless gasp snapped her out of the worst of her laughter. She turned just in time to see Chat staring at her and Ladybug, still leaning against each other and stifling the odd giggle. “here…” he finished, his voice trailing off as his eyes darted between the two of them. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Ladybug said, forcing back her laughter as she straightened up. “It was stupid.” There was still a ring of laughter in her voice as she tried to put on her professional smile. “We should deal with the akuma.”

“Right-” her grip tightened on her bolas, ready to strike them against the fork and release the akuma when Chat cried out.

“Cataclysm!” A streak of black whizzed in front of her, and the next thing she knew, the fork had crumbled and a dark butterfly had fluttered out of it’s remains.

Chat smiled smugly at her, before letting his gaze land on Ladybug as she purified the akuma. Once the silvery white butterfly had been released from her yoyo, Ladybug turned to her ruefully and slipped off her nose plug. With a grimace, she slipped her own off handed it to Ladybug, who promptly cast them into the air with a hurried cry of “Miraculous Ladybug!”

The swarm of Ladybugs rushed over and past her—hopefully removing the cheese and stench from her hair as they went—before swarming out over the street. By the time they had disappeared, the worst of the smell was gone. But a fainter—though still strong—aroma remained, emanating from the rather ruffled looking man lying in the street, clutching a fondue fork—now normal sized—and a box of Epoisse de Bourgogne.

“I just wanted to introduce her to the world of fine cheeses” the man mumbled dolefully as he sat up.

“Hey,” she said quietly, making her way over to crouch beside him. Gently, she rested her hand on his shoulder, ignoring the beep coming from her miraculous. She still had two minutes. “Maybe… maybe next time start with something a little less-” she stopped herself before she could say rank. “Odiferous. Work your…”

“Girlfriend.”

“Work your girlfriend’s way up to it.” The man offered her a shaky smile. Satisfied, she stood and offered him her hand. Once she had pulled the man to his feet, she turned.

“It’s been fur-ever, M’lady,” Chat said as leaned against his staff. “What say you and I have a moonlight picnic? All that cheese made me hungry.”

How? How could anyone be hungry after smelling that?

“I can’t, I keep telling you, I’m busy.”

Chat pouted as he pushed himself off his staff to stand up straight. “Too busy for me?”

“Chat…” Ladybug sighed, reaching up to massage her temples. But before she could say anything else, her earring beeped. And her bracelet was quick to follow.

“That’s one minute for me.”

Even if it hadn’t been, she would have said it was. She knew he kept sending Ladybug messages about patrols, and the last couple of battles, he had complained about it. Multiple times.

And he seemed completely unaware that Ladybug’s patience was waning.

Ladybug nodded at her, then turned back to Chat. “Can you help him home?” she asked, nodding to the man.

“But-”

“Chat.”

“Fine,” Chat grumbled.

Ladybug nodded at him, the turned to her. “C’mon. I think we can call it a night for your patrol.“Nodding, she followed after Ladybug. “Be honest,” Ladybug said quietly as they turned, “does my hair still stink of cheese?”

A bark of laughter escaped her as she shook her head. “No, you’re good.”

Ladybug giggled. “You too.” And then she cast her yoyo, and let it pull her up to the rooftops.

She was about to follow when she froze, feeling the invisible weight of eyes on her.. Quickly, she glanced over her shoulder; Chat was still standing there, watching her.

Shaking her head, she turned, swung herself toward the roofline.

***

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Bustier said with another of her syrupy smiles as she hovered by the open door to the classroom, “M. Damocles only needs to see me for a few minutes, so take this time to review the stages of the Hero’s Journey, and then we’ll discuss when I return.” With that, their teacher left the room and headed towards the principals office, seemingly blithely ignorant of the fact that no one in the class was even remotely engaging in the lesson.

“And…” Alix said, dragging out the word as she craned her neck to look out the windows into the hallway, “she’s gone.”

“Did you guys see the pictures from the battle last night?” Rose squealed as soon as the coast had been declared clear.

“I missed it,” Alya moaned before flopping dramatically onto her desk. “I didn’t get any pictures,” Alya continued, her voice muffled by the desk.

“But babe, you told me you were heading there-”

“I got stuck in cheese!” Alya cried, sitting back up. “I was only a block away! And all those people- they were right there. The pictures were amazing! And it smelled disgusting!”

Marinette patted Alya’s shoulder comfortingly. But the motion seemed a little more awkward than usual. A little more reserved.

“They are pretty amazing,” Alix said as she glanced at her phone. She craned her neck to get a better look at Alix’s screen.

One of the many pictures taken the previous night was pulled up on the phone. It was one of the ones that had been taken when she and Ladybug were in the midst of their fit of laughter.

“I wish I had been there…” Kim sighed longingly. “What?” he asked, when met with incredulous looks. “Have you seen the way Tigress throws those weight thingies of hers?”

“Bolas,” Max corrected.

“Boas,” Kim repeated—sort of—“I would love to challenge her to a discus throw.”

“My money’s on Tigress,” Alix snorted.

“Mine too! She’s so cool!” Rose chirped.

“Yeah, Marc and I are writing her into the next issue of the comic.”

She bit the inside of her keep to keep her grin in check. It would look weird if she just started randomly grinning—of course, it was hardly random given she was the one they were heaping praise upon—but try as she might, the heat in her cheeks wasn’t subsiding. Under the ruse of doodling, she dropped her gaze to try and hide her flaming cheeks. But through her curtain of hair, she caught sight of Adrien.

Like everyone else seated in the front rows—excluding Chloe and Sabrina who seemed to be skipping class entirely—he was turned towards the back to be more part of the conversation. But unlike everyone else, he looked less than thrilled by the topic of conversation. Sure, he had his usual, bland, model smile pasted on his face. But his smile was tight, and his eyes were hard.

There was that green-eyed monster again…

“Yeah?” Mylène asked.

“Yeah, she’s been around so much lately, and she and Ladybug are obviously friends, so it seemed like a good choice to bring her in. Plus she adds a really cool dynamic.”

Adrien’s smile slipped at that.

Marinette’s on the other hand… “I think that’s a great idea, Nathanial! I think it’s high time Ladybug had a friend.”

“What about Chat Noir?”

Everyone turned to blink at Adrien. It hadn’t been an… outburst per se, but it had been… unexpected. Based on the pink tinge that was quickly rising in his face, it seemed he hadn’t meant to say that quite so loud. If at all…

Ivan cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Chat Noir and Ladybug have been together since the beginning.”

The others nodded in agreement. But she saw Marinette’s smile slip from her face.

“But it’s different with him,” Alya said. She wasn’t sure who was more surprised. Her, Marinette, or Adrien.

“What do you mean?” Adrien somehow meekly demanded.

Alya shrugged. “Sure, they’re best friends. But they’re also meant to be, so that makes their dynamic a little different. Tigress is a girl, so it’s only natural they’re going to talk about stuff Ladybug wouldn’t normally talk to Chat Noir about.” She didn’t miss the jealous edge in Alya’s voice. If Alya had been who she thought she had been, she was betting Alya had been hoping she would be filling the role of Ladybug’s friend.

It was more than a little ironic…

“That makes sense,” Kim mused before brightening. “It’s like how you girls talk about who you have crushes o- ow!” Kim turned in his seat to glare at Rose. “What was that for?”

Rose smiled sweetly at him, still kicking her legs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said innocently with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Right…” Kim said, shrinking back a little and warily eying Rose’s swinging legs. He had obviously received the message loud and clear.

“They seem like the kind of friends who would tell each other everything,” Rose sighed happily. “It’s so cute seeing that side of Ladybug.”

Maybe not everything…

But pretty close…

“Ladybug would never tell someone her identity,” Adrien mumbled.

She snapped her head to look at Adrien, but before her gaze settled on blond hair and green eyes, brown eyes behind glasses caught her attention. Nino’s eyes widened as his previously thought-furrowed brows rose to disappear under the brim of his cap as her eyes met his. He ducked his head to look down at his desk before—very obviously—turning his attention to Adrien.

That was… weird-

“I concur, Ladybug has always been very protective regarding her identity. However,” Max said, the light glinting off his glasses as he looked up from his phone, “they do appear to be very close friends.”

“Yes!” Markov added, “we have recently been analyzing resources on body language to update my database, and Tigress and Ladybug regularly display body language that communicates a deep sense of trust and friendship!”

“And even if they don’t share their identities, they totally seem like share everything else!”

“Maybe…” Adrien said, though it sounded more like he was talking to himself. Disgruntlement was no longer showing through the cracks in his model facade. His brows furrowed as if he were deep in thought. There was a spark in his eye that reminded her of-

“I wonder what they talk about,” Ivan mused.

Her own brows furrowed as she watched Adrien. Why was he suddenly so-

“Bustier’s coming!”

***

For the second time since she had started patrolling for Ladybug, Chat Noir was waiting for her at the meeting place. In fact, he was early. It was… weird.

The first time, he had obviously been expecting Ladybug despite being told multiple times Ladybug wouldn’t be patrolling for the last two weeks of June. Every other night, he had shown up after her, all but dragging his feet.

She held back a groan. She was still a few rooftops away, but with her enhanced vision and her night vision—one of the many perks of the tiger miraculous—she had a clear view of him. He was sitting in another clearly practiced pose that was meant to look casual. Ladybug had told him—again—she wouldn’t be patrolling… but based on the way he was waiting… apparently that didn’t mean anything.

She was not in the mood for an argument tonight; all she wanted was to blow off some steam, make sure there were no signs of any akumas or sentimonsters, and then go home and curl up in bed with a book.

While she had successfully held back her groan before, she couldn’t stop a sigh from escaping her now.

There was no point in putting off the inevitable any further.

With the effortless grace her miraculous granted her, she crossed the rest of the rooftops and landed behind Chat. His cat ears twitched at the sound of her landing—it had seemed like a good idea to clue him in to her arrival before he saw her—and he pushed himself off the chimney he had been leaning against as if posing for a campaign.

He turned to her with a suave smile.

That didn’t drop the moment he saw it was her…

What-

“Tigress,” he greeted her, seemingly channeling every drop of charisma he had in his body into his voice. “How are you?”

Ok…

She had thought it was weird he was early, but she didn’t even know how to begin to describe… this…

“Fine…” she said carefully, watching him warily as he grinned and sauntered toward her.

“Good… good,” he murmured, almost to himself.

What was going on?

Had she missed something?

Had he been zapped by an akuma?

He tilted his head back to take in the lights of the city, and let out a wistful sigh. “Isn’t the city beautiful at night?”

“Sure…”

Where was he going with this?

As if finally noticing she wasn’t charmed, he turned to grin at her. “Look,” he said as he leaned on his staff and offered her what she was sure would be a charming grin, if not for the fact that she was utterly un-charmed by it. And wasn’t that a sudden change in tune… “I think you and I maybe got off on the wrong foot.”

And whose fault was that?

“I mean, we are practically cousins, after all.” That line? Again? “And shouldn’t family stick together?”

She would stick by Luka and her ma through anything.

Chat, on the other hand, was not family, no matter what miraculous she had.

But she would be lying if she wasn’t curious to see where he was trying to steer this conversation. And agreeing with him seemed like the most direct path to his intended destination. “Sure.” It was technically a sentiment she agreed with, just not in the context he had given. “Should we get going?” As much as she wanted to figure out the sudden attitude change, it was starting to feel awkward just standing around with him being so… yeah.

And she could just as easily get to the bottom of this while blowing off some of this awkward energy.

“After you,” he said with a bow that wasn’t the least bit mocking. But was plenty thick with obvious attempts at flattery.

Ok…

Casting another wary glance at him, she loosened her bolas and swung them to latch onto some scaffolding on the next building over.

Chat insisted on making small talk as they scoured the city for any signs of Shadowmoth. It was… she wanted to say it was a nice break from the open hostility and the pointed, green-eyed glances he usually shot her way. But in some ways, his sudden friendliness was worse. At least she hand known what to expect the last few patrols.

But this?

He obviously had some kind of angle.

He obviously wanted something.

“Tigress?”

She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts, and turned to Chat. “Sorry, what?”

“I’m ready for a break, want to take a rest up there?” he asked, pointing with his staff toward the Palais Garnier in the distance.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

He nodded, and shot her what many would consider a winning grin. Then he took a running start and used his staff to launch himself into the air in the direction of the Palais Garnier. She watched him through narrowed eyes as he bounded across the rooftops, her frown returning.

So far, he had not been very forthcoming on what it was he wanted. It seemed he was more interested in laying on the flattery.

Thickly.

She had a feeling she wouldn’t like it—whatever it was he wanted—when she did find out…

Before she could psych herself out, she ran toward the edge of the roof and leapt into the air.

By the time she made it to the roof, he was waiting in yet another perfectly practiced pose. She recognized it as another pose from one of his previous campaigns. Sure, in the magazine he had been leaning against a bookshelf in the library whereas now, he was leaning against the base of one of the Lequesne Pagasi. But the offhand grace and winsome smile that were obviously meant to make him look approachable were the same.

She had barely taken two steps onto the roof when he turned the full force of his smile on her. Not that it had any effect. “You hungry?” Before she could so much as reply, he was already busying himself with opening a compartment in his baton. Carefully, he extracted a box and opened its lid before holding it out to her.

They were chocolates.

Expensive chocolates.

Expensive, chocolatey bribes if his sudden change in tune was anything to go by.

But sure. She would bite.

Carefully, she selected a chocolate from the box.

Just because she took the chocolate didn’t mean she had to take the bribe.

She popped the chocolate into her mouth. It was rich and decadent and tasted as expensive as she imagined it had been. Though she didn’t dwell too long on how expensive; some things were better left unknown. It was amazing. But-

“They’re good, right?”

She nodded. “They are, thanks.”

He smiled like the cat that had just caught the canary. He was obviously pleased with himself. “Have another,” he coaxed, holding the box out to her.

She complied. It wasn’t like she was about to turn down free chocolate.

And they were amazing. But as amazing as they were, she swore she could taste the strings attached to them.

She watched as he popped a chocolate into his own mouth and hummed in bliss. They finished the rest of the chocolates in relative silence. With every bite she took, the less she tasted chocolate and the more she tasted the bitterness of the bribe.

“So Tigress…” he turned to her, raking a hand through his golden hair and offering her a charming yet abashed smile that reeked of being rehearsed. “Can I ask you something.”

Struggling to chew the last of her chocolate, she nodded.

“You and Ladybug are friends, right?”

So that was what this was all about? What they had been talking about in class earlier?

Typical.

Thickly, she swallowed the last bite of her chocolate. “Yeah, she and I are friends,” she said carefully.

“And you two are close, right?

Technically, she and Marinette were close. “I guess you could say that-”

“So you tell each other stuff then.” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement. His eyes were fixed on her firmly now, and if she weren’t a tigress, she imaged she would have felt like prey.

But as she was a tigress… “A little bit, but not much.” She and Marinette on the other hand…

“What are her favourite flowers?”

“What-“

“I’ve always gone with red roses because they’re classic.” His attention was suddenly off her as he gazed thoughtfully out at the skyline. But just as suddenly, his eyes snapped back to her. “But maybe that’s the problem; so what other kinds of flowers does she like?”

Cherry blossoms. Peonies. Lilacs.

To name a few.

Luka could probably recite all of Marinette’s favourites in reverse order in his sleep.

“You don’t know?”

“Obviously,” he chuckled, though there was a tinge of bitter annoyance, “that’s why I asked.”

“And you’re asking me because…” she let her voice trail off as she turned to raise a brow at him.

“The two of you are friends.” He said it like it was supposed to explain all the intricacies of the Universe.

“Yeah. But why not ask her? And why wait this long to ask?”

“I thought roses were the right direction. They symbolize love, you know. True love, to be exact.” He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair again, and shot her a a charming yet hopeless smile that she was sure was meant to elicit pity. “But I guess they weren’t the right choice after all…”

Because it was the flowers that were the issue…

“And girls like picnics, right?”

“What-”

“I thought they did. And they always do romantic, moonlight picnics in the movies. But every time I try one, it never seems to work. But maybe a picnic isn’t the right direction? Maybe I need to do something bolder?”

She bit back a groan. “Some girls like picnics, sure. But not all girls.” Of course, Marinette did like picnics. But it was always more about the company… “And I don’t think-”

“Ok, so no picnics,” Chat said as he stood abruptly. He turned, and began to pace, completely ignoring what she had been about to say. “But then what? Maybe a boat ride along the Seine? No… Too many tourists. The cinema might be fun… I could take her to see the new Ladybug and Chat Noir movie!” He paused in his pacing, then frowned before muttering, “But all our fans would probably be watching us if we did something so public, and that wouldn’t be very romantic. Maybe I could- no, that would be no good. A rooftop picnic is the best option for privacy but those haven’t worked before-” he whirled to face her, and she swore she saw the lightbulb go off over his head. “I’ve got it!”

Oh no.

“It’s perfect!”

Here we go…

“If you put in a good word for me to Ladybug, apparently girl friends talk to each other about stuff they don’t talk about with their guy friends,” he added for her benefit, as if it was something she didn’t already know, “then she’ll have to agree! And I can bring takeout from her favourite restaurant- do you know what it is, by the way?” he was pacing with renewed vigour and energy. But it wasn’t the aimless pacing of before. It seemed he was set on his plan. “And her favourite flowers? You never told me what they were. If I have her favourites of everything ready for her at the picnic then it will be perfect and she’ll realize-”

“It isn’t going to work.”

He froze misstep and turned to look at her. The mask of cheery camaraderie slipped. Just for a second. The it was back. But much more forced than before.

“Of course it will,” he said, trying to laugh lightheartedly. But it sounded just as forced as his smile. “It’s easy! You put in a good word for me, since she listens to you,” despite his obvious attempts, he wasn’t able to mask the bitterness in his voice. “And you tell me what she would want for a first date-”

“You can’t use my friendship with her to try and date her.”

“But nothing I’ve done has worked!”

She shrugged. “That’s life.”

He glowered at her. “So you’re just going to stand in the way of true love? Of destiny?”

Fate… destiny… the Universe…

Whatever he wanted to call it, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been standing in its way for the past few months.

She refused to shrink under his glower. He seemed to realize pretty quick that she wasn’t going to balk under his glare. “You just don’t get it,” he snapped, his face shifting into a petulant pout. “She and I are meant to be. She’s the only one who doesn’t see it. But she never even gives me a chance!” He stalked back toward the statue and leaned against it sullenly, kicking the stone of the roof for good measure. ”I’m just so tired of her turning me down. I wish she would just stop rejecting me and realize what’s been obvious to everyone else since the start.”

His words hung heavy in the air. With his tantrum over and done with—she hoped—he seemed set on moping. And frankly, she was long past tired of it. Of his jealousy-fuelled hostility. Of his whining and complaining. Of his sulking. What she was going to say would probably make him mad. But she was over it.

She just hoped it would be worth it.

“You know,” she said slowly, watching him out of the corner of her eye, “there is a way for you to get her to stop rejecting you.”

He perked up immediately, turning to look at her with the delight of someone what had just been told they were going to be told the secrets of the Universe. “Really? How?”

“It’ll be hard-“

“I’ll do anything to get her to stop rejecting me-“

“Stop asking her out.”

His face went blank. He stared at her silently, looking as if he was trying to puzzle out one of Mendeleiev’s homework assignments. “How will that-“

“You’re tired of her saying no?” He nodded. “Then stop asking. She’s already given you her answer-“

“But-“

“And she’s been way nicer about it than she needs to. And she’s given way more reasons than she needs to. No is reason enough.”

“You just don’t get it- you’re a temp. She and I have been in it since the beginning. Me and her against the world,” he sighed wistfully, “we were chosen to be partners. It was destiny-“

“And what if I had been chosen instead?” She wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised she had asked that.

“What-“

But it was still a relevant question.

“What if I had been the one chosen to be Ladybug? Would you and I be destined for each other?” That felt wrong to say on so many levels. She sent a silent apology to Rose.

She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he spluttered out nonsense. “What- but- you- she- no. No. It’s different-“

“I don’t see how.”

He laughed, but it was strained. “Look, I’m flattered and all but you know I love-“

“Don’t be.” The beginnings of the casually charming smile that had been making its way onto his face fell back to blank confusion. “I’m seeing someone. And you’re not my type. Not even close. All I’m saying is, magical jewelry seems like a pretty flimsy foundation for true love. Much less destiny.” She stood and made a show of stretching. “Now I’m going to go finish patrol-“

“You’re wrong!” Before she could say anything else, he pushed himself off of the statue and vaulted himself off into the darkness, disappearing into the shadows.

She groaned. It was like arguing with a brick wall.

***

To say patrolling solo was a relief after the previous night was an understatement. She needed the peace and quiet of solitude to clear her head after all of that. And sure, maybe intervening in an armed robbery wasn’t exactly what she would call quiet or peaceful…

But at least it wasn’t headache inducing the way arguing with a certain cat was…

One of the masked robbers ran at her, viciously swinging the knife he was holding.

Really, he should have known better.

Easily and with grace, she stepped aside, using her arm to block the knife as she caught his wrist. Using his own momentum against him, she disarmed and flipped him to the ground in one fluid motion. His blade clattered against the ground, far out of his reach as she pinned him with a knee to his back.

The man grunted, trying to hit her and throw her off of him, but it was futile. He couldn’t reach her with his free hand and with her miraculous, she was too strong for him.

“Hey!”

Her attention snapped to two of the other robbers. They were—rather stupidly—running towards her, brandishing their crowbars. Without relinquishing her grip on the man she had subdued, she loosened her bolas from her waist.

Before the robbers rushing to attack her could even begin to rethink their idiotic plan, she had her bolas free and swinging. Their brash confidence turned to panic as she smirked at them, right before she loosed the bolas.

They streaked through the air in a blur; their whizzing melding with the squeaks of sneakers against tiles as the robbers tried to skid to a stop. The sound of distant sirens joined the mix. The two cried out as the bolas tangled around them both, knocking the crowbars from their hands and binding them together in a mishmash of limbs. They immediately tripped over each other and toppled to the ground where they continued to struggle uselessly against her weapon.

A sharp inhale that sounded an awful lot like a whimper came from the back of the shop.

She snapped her gaze to the fourth and last robber. His eyes were wide and wild with panic as he looked at her. What she could see off his face was stark pale next to the black of his ski mask. His gaze darted around the shop and landed on the window the robbers had originally broken through.

“You really want to do that?” she asked.

His gaze snapped back to her. He looked like he would rather do anything but try and go up against her, but he also looked like he didn’t want to stick around. Especially with the sirens drawing so close. The hand he was brandishing his knife with was shaking, but his feet were—albeit hesitantly—shifting.

Keeping a careful and tight grip on the man she was pinning, she feigned lunging toward the last robber. With a yelp, he skittered backward, tripping and stumbling over his feet to land on his behind. His knife clattered to the ground, and was promptly kicked out of his reach by his own flailing feet as he scrambled back and away from her. Directly into the back corner of the jewelry display he had been in the middle of emptying into his forgotten sack.

“That’s what I thought.”

Barely minutes later, police officers burst into the room with Officer Roger—he and her ma had had enough run ins that he and her family were on a first name basis now—leading the charge, only to find the robbers subdued. Or, in the case of the last one, cowering. After that, the arrest was quick with the only real delay being untangling the robbers from her bolas.

As the last of the robbers was led out in handcuffs, she turned to Officer Roger, who had coughed quietly in a clear attempt to get her attention. With an air of formality and admiration, he stuck his hand out toward her.

“Thank you for your service, Purple Tigress.”

As she shook his hand, she couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he knew he was shaking the hand of Anarka Couffaine’s daughter.

Spontaneous combustion didn’t seem entirely unrealistic…

“It was no problem, I’m just doing my job.”

***

“So, how did it go tonight?” Ladybug asked as soon as she ducked under the tarps her ma had hung over the stage to cover it from the rain they had gotten earlier in the day. “Any trouble?”

“Everything was fine. Well- there was a bit of a robbery, but it wasn’t any trouble-”

“A robbery? What happened? Are you ok? I didn’t get any messages I’m so sorry I should have been there to-”

“Hey, hey,” she said, quickly placing a gentle hand on Ladybug’s shoulder to interrupt her spiralling. “I was fine. I’m sorry, I should have let you know sooner. There just wasn’t time to alert you and stop them so I just… went for it. And then I got caught up in giving my statement to the police and well… yeah, it isn’t really an excuse. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.”

She blinked in surprise at the force in Ladybug’s voice. She hadn’t realized it, but her gaze had drifted down to her feet; the last thing she had wanted was to disappoint Marinette or cause her any stress. She forced herself to look back up at Ladybug; she was staring at her intently, her blue eyes burning.

“You’re ok?” Wordlessly, she nodded. “You aren’t hurt?” She shook her head.

Ladybug nodded. And then she smiled…

And it suddenly dawned on her what it was that was fueling the flames in Ladybug’s eyes.

It was pride…

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“It was really no big deal…” she mumbled, her cheeks suddenly flaming.

“Hey, none of that,” Ladybug said gently. “Remember what Roarr said?”

She nodded, though she still couldn’t fight the flush in her face. Speaking of Roarr…

Quickly, she dropped her transformation. And once she had given Roarr a quick cuddle and one of the candies she had taken to keeping in her pockets incase of emergencies, she slipped the miraculous off and handed it back to Ladybug.

Ladybug popped it into the box she had waiting. But instead of closing the lid and slipping it into her yoyo, she stared thoughtfully down at the miraculous.

Awkwardly, she shifted her weight between her feet.” Ladybug…?”

“Hmm?” Ladybug glanced up at her.

“Is everything… ok?” she asked hesitantly.

“Oh! Yeah! I’m just…” Ladybug’s gaze flickered back down to the tiger miraculous. Her spotted hand closed around the box, snapping the lid shut before slipping it into her yoyo. When she met her gaze again, Ladybug was smiling. It was a small smile, still tinged with thoughtfulness, but it was genuine. “I’m just thinking about something a friend told me a while ago.”

“Oh.”

Ladybug’s eyes, still burning, were also full of warmth. “Thank you again. For everything.”

“It’s nothing…”

Ladybug let out a quiet chuckle. “Trust me, it’s everything.”

***

“And… boom! He’s down!” Alix crowed, pumping her fist in the air, nearly punching Ivan in the face as she whooped at the video playing on Max’s laptop.

“I want to learn how to do that-”

“No,” Nathaniel said, emphatically shaking his head, “you do not need to know how to do that, Kim.”

“Dudes, how is her aim that good?”

She watched silently as she—well, Tigress—threw her bolas, ensnaring the two robbers. The security camera footage from the jewelry shop had been pulled, and had ended up on the late night news last night. And the early morning news…

“She didn’t even have to do anything to take out that last guy,” Mylène murmured in awe, her eyes glued to the screen.

“She’s pretty tough,” Ivan agreed.

“She’s a total badass is what she is!” Alix corrected.

She tipped her head forward, letting her curtain of hair conceal the grin she couldn’t wipe from her face and her cheeks, which given how warm they were had to been tinged pink. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adrien roll his eyes. He looked like he had just swallowed a lemon.

“Yeah,” Marinette said as she watched the footage play for the umpteenth time, a wide grin on her face. “She’s incredible!”

Before she could completely combust from compliment overload, Rose hummed thoughtfully. She turned to look at her girlfriend just in time to see Rose tilt her head to the side, her brows furrowed, as she watched to footage.

“I wonder if Ladybug will make her a permanent hero?”

“There’s no way!”

Everyone turned to stare at Adrien. His hands were splayed on the table—he hadn’t quite slammed the table but he looked like he had come pretty close—and his mouth was a tight, twisted line. But as he seemed to realize everyone was suddenly looking at him, his face shifted, his cheeks turning pink. But the sourness in his eyes hadn’t fully vanished, even as embarrassment seemed to overtake him.

“Why not, dude?”

“Well, because…” Adrien began to flounder.

“She has been at almost all of the most recent battles,” Nathaniel said absently.

“And her presence during those battles has improved the efficiency with which akumas and sentimonsters are dealt with,” Max added.

“It is true! We did the calculations ourselves!”

Max nodded. “Additionally, it seems she has been added to the patrol roster.”

“Yeah, well…”

“But none of the other heroes were ever made permanent,” Alya noted, a tinge of jealousy creeping into her voice.

It seemed Adrien had found the life line he needed, and he latched on. “Exactly. It’s always been Ladybug and Chat Noir! The black cat and ladybug from the start. Creation and destruction. Yin and yang. ”

“So?”

She wasn’t sure who out the class was most shocked by Marinette’s question, but for his part, Adrien looked at her like she had grown a second head.

“Adding another full time hero would throw off the balance,” he replied with the utmost confidence and assuredness.

And yet…

“It’s always been the two of them. Why mess with destiny?”

It seemed Adrien wasn’t so much clinging to a life line as he was grasping at straws.

***

Chat glared at her as soon as he landed on the roof.

It seemed they were back to that…

“You’re here again,” he muttered.

She stood, and took a breath. “I am.” Already, she could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.

“Look,” he said, crossing his arms as he stalked across the roof towards her, “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it isn’t going to work.”

Game?

He thought this was a game?

Why did that not surprise her?

“There is no game-”

“Then whatever this is,” he hissed, gesturing to her, “this ‘trying to replace Ladybug’ thing-”

“I’m not trying to replace Ladybug!” she all but shouted.

“I never see her anymore! Except for during akuma attacks.” It was almost impressive how he was able to hiss and whine at the same time. “It’s always you.”

“I told you, she’s busy.”

“She’s always too busy for me these days-“

Something she deeply admired about her brother was his ability to stay cool. Especially with a ma like theirs. He was slow to anger, and even slower to act on that anger. And his patience at times seemed near infinite. Sometimes to his detriment.

But is was still something she admired about Luka. And something she tried to emulate.

And she had tried.

She really had.

The last thing she wanted to do was make things awkward or more difficult for Ladybug in any way.

But there was only so much she could take.

And she was at her limits.

Past them, actually.

“It isn’t about you!” she snapped. “She’s busy. She has things she needs to do.”

“So she goes to you instead of me?”

“She asked. And if she hadn’t, I would have offered.” Chat snorted. “It’s not fair that she has to do so much on her own.”

“She isn’t on her own! She has me! That should be enough.” Chat threw his arms in the air, turned, stalked a few steps away, and then whirled back to face her as he gestured to himself. “If she wanted more help, she should have asked me!”

“You’re her partner?”

“Her only partner,” he said coldly.

“Then she shouldn’t have to ask you to step up.”

“She and I have kissed! Multiple times!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“She and I are partners. Soul mates. How is that not destiny?”

“Let me count the ways.” She held up a single finger. “If you have to have all your memories erased in order for someone to kiss you, your ‘destiny’ is looking pretty grim.”

“The Oblivio thing happened one time! We didn’t have amnesia the other-“

“Yeah,” she held up a second finger, “Nothing says romance like having to kiss someone because they’re brainwashed and trying to bash your brains out.”

“You’re just jealous,” Chat spat.

“Of who? Of what?”

“I-“

“I’m seeing someone. She and I are-”

“She?”

“Yes, she. And no, I’m not dating Ladybug, nor do I want to. She and I are friends. Good friends. But that’s it. Or do you think I’m jealous that you’re her ‘partner?’” He opened his mouth to retort, but she was done listening to his ludicrous accusations. “I’m here to do a job. A job she asked me to do. And I’m going to do my job to the best of my abilities, and have her back because that’s what she needs of me. And I am not going to let her down.”

He planted his staff against the roof hard enough for the sound to cut her off. Momentarily. Before he could open his mouth again, she she drew herself up to her full height and stepped forward with the force of the words flowing out of her mouth.

“You don’t own her. And she doesn’t owe you her love. So stop acting like it and step up and do your job.”

Her chest was heaving; she hadn’t expected to get so into it with him.

She hadn’t necessarily meant to.

But she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

Not even a little bit.

She had meant every word she had said.

He glowered at her.

And then he turned tail and disappeared into the darkness.

***

She grit her teeth as she flexed her claws.

Why?

Why tonight?

Why couldn’t Shadowmoth just chill?

Marinette didn’t have much time left to work on her dress. The dance was the day after tomorrow. She had said she would be done her dress on time, but that had been earlier in the day. When the girls had been pestering her for a sneak peek—because Marinette had been very tightlipped about her dress—when she had thought she would have the entire evening.

Except now, they were dealing with a category five akuma.

And it was not going well.

With a furious cry, she slashed at the net the akuma had trapped her in, shredding it to pieces and freeing herself and the civilians she had been trying to evacuate. The tattered remains of the net floated down to the ground around her as she scowled at her surroundings.

Chat was supposed to be covering her.

And she would hardly call his half-hearted shout of warning as the net was already twisting itself around her and the civilians sufficient.

At least Exterminator’s attention was wholly focused on Chat now. Snapping her attention back to the civilians, she ushered them into the closest alleyway. “Get as far away as possible, and stay out of sight. I don’t know how long this is going to take,” she said before turning tail and sprinting back into the street.

Already, this akuma fight was taking longer than it should have, with the multitude of traps the akuma kept setting. And she was not feeling optimistic about it wrapping up anytime soon.

“Don’t you know cats were the original pest control?” Chat laughed from where he was perched on his staff in the middle of the street, laughing as he watched Exterminator struggle back to his feet. “You really think you can catch me?” Chat smirked in her direction as she ran past the shredded net, his eyes flashing.

Rude.

She skidded to a halt just in time to see Exterminator’s smirk, and the quick flick of his wrist that sent a roll of oversized white paper unfurling along the street under Chat’s perch.

Her eyes widened.

“Chat! Look out!”

Whether he was too busy gloating or just didn’t bother to heed her warning was unclear. She was already in motion, rushing toward him, but she was too late. She watched as Exterminator pulled out what would have been a comically enormous fly swatter if the circumstances weren’t so dire, and hit Chat’s staff out from under him.

Chat’s laugh cut off in a yelp as he fell toward the street.

Somehow, he managed to land on his feet.

Directly on the trap Exterminator had laid.

Chat laughed as he straightened to his full height. “That’s the best you can do?” he asked before trying to move to retrieve his baton. He yelped as his upper body moved while his feet stayed stuck, firmly in place. He had to frantically windmill his arms to keep himself from overbalancing and getting even more stuck on the giant roll of fly paper he had landed on.

“This city’s had a problem with alley cats for a while now,” Exterminator spat, “but this’ll show everyone that I’m the best Paris has to offer for pest control! Now it’s time to skin two cats with one stone…” Exterminator started to turn, and she dropped to the ground and slid behind the cover of an overturned bus. “…and then I can move onto the bug- where is she?”

She took a deep breath as the akuma’s roars echoed through the street.

This was good.

If he was busy looking for her, that would keep him busy while she freed Chat and waited for Ladybug to return.

“Camouflage.”

On silent feet, she skirted around Exterminator, giving him a wide berth as he scoured the street. By the time she made it over the Chat, he was still grunting and griping to himself as he tried to tug his feet free.

“Give me your hand,” she whispered so as not to alert Exterminator to her whereabouts.

Chat snapped his attention up to her—well, a bit to the left of her— and blinked. “What?”

“Quiet,” she shushed him, casting a glance over her shoulder. Exterminator thankfully hadn’t heard Chat over the sounds of his search. “Give me your hand.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You’re a sitting duck right now.”

“I can handle myself just fine.”

“That’s not the point right now. Now take my hand so we can keep him busy-”

“Ladybug and I were fine before you showed up, I don’t need your help,” Chat spat. “Cataclysm!” The flypaper turned to dust under his touch as he smiled smugly in her general direction. “See?”

“Found you.”

She glanced up just in time to see Exterminator glaring at Chat- or rather, what would look like the empty air Chat was apparently talking to. She could see the akuma’s finger already squeezing around the trigger of his net-gun. Wordlessly, she shoved Chat to the side and then threw herself to the ground.

The net whizzed harmlessly over her head.

But it had been close.

Too close.

And now they were both on a timer…

“Get out of here,” she hissed to Chat, “we need to regroup.”

“You’re not the one in charge here,” Chat snapped as he sprang to his feet to dodge another net.

“Sorry, that took longer than I thought.” Ladybug’s voice crackled to life over their com pieces. “I’ll be there in a minute-”

“We’re both on timers now,” she replied as she threw her bolas. Exterminator ducked out of the way as they whizzed past, visible the moment they left her hand. But that was fine, all she needed was to buy time for-

“Get out of there and recharge. Meet me on the roof of the Musée Yves Saint Laurent. I think I have a plan.”

***

“At the very least, it will give me a chance to get up close and figure out where the akuma is hiding before- ”

“I break it with my Cataclysm, and we save the day, bugaboo.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? And no, it’s not going to be that simple. This akuma is tricky.”

That was an understatement. It was honestly surprising Shadowmoth hadn’t ever tried to akumatize an exterminator before. An akuma based around dealing with pests like bugs? That had Shadowmoth written all over it.

“We need to get him out in the open, were he can’t lay any more traps for us.” Exterminator had proven himself to be a much better strategist that most akumas, and his proficiency with setting magically enhanced traps was a testament to the danger he posed. “We can’t let him catch us off guard again, we’ve had too many close calls,” Ladybug continued before turning to her. “Tigress, you’re going to be taking point on this. You have the best chance of leading him out into the open without getting caught. If we can get him to the Trocadero…”

As Ladybug continued with the plan, the back of her neck prickled with the feeling of eyes on her. She glanced up from the holographic map Ladybug had pulled up on her yoyo to find bitter and venomous green eyes trained on her.

***

Her lungs were still burning as she tried to catch her breath while Roarr scarfed down the last of her emergency candy. They has a couple minutes at most before they had to get back out there and rejoin the fight.

She had managed to lead Exterminator to the Trocadéro, but she had had to burn through her invisibility. Ladybug and Chat were keeping the akuma busy and trying to identify the akumatized object while she recharged, but she didn’t want to be away from the fighting any longer than she had to.. Especially given it wasn’t just the fight with the akuma… the way Chat had kept interrupting and calling her nicknames she had told him not to while she tried to strategize… the tension had been so thick, she could have sliced it with her claws.

The less time she left the two alone, the better.

“Just about ready?”

“Almost,” Roarr said through a mouthful of gummies that were sticky and partially melted from the heat. Hopefully kwamis didn’t get cavities…

As Roarr finished the last few bites of her snack, she rolled her shoulders to try and loosen up the joints and release some of the tension that had made its way into her muscles during the strategy meeting. Somehow, being chased through the streets by the akuma as she acted as live bait had been less uncomfortable that bearing witness to the brink of another spat between the two-

“Ready!”

“Roarr, stripes on.”

The magic of her transformation had barely washed over her before she was leaping up into the air, digging her claws into the brick of the back of the buildings lining the alley she had hidden in. Chips of masonry scattered and fell as she effortlessly clawed her way up to the roof.

In a matter of minutes, she was back at the Trocadéro.

Ladybug was a blur of red around the akuma as she swung and dove and rolled, never getting particularly close to the akuma. But she was certainly keeping him busy. A blur of black whizzed by the akuma, spouting more puns and flirtatious remarks in the same breath. Ladybug didn’t respond, but it was impossible to tell if that was because she was trying to concentrate or was just trying to ignore him. Or both.

Either way, it didn’t matter. It was time for her to join the fray.

She landed lightly, and then sped toward the akuma. She slide to a stop a few steps from Ladybug, swinging her bolas to deflect a net that had been heading towards her. Ladybug shot her a quick, grateful smile before springing back and out of the way and swinging up toward the top of the Palais de Challiot. A moment later, a shimmer of red and pink light burst out from the roof of the building.

“I need you two to try and buy me some time while I figure out this Lucky Charm,” Ladybug’s voice crackled to life over the com links, “Chat, you’re going to keep him busy. Tigress, he can’t catch what he can’t see. You’re going to get the akuma, it’s in his dust-sprayer.”

Of course it was.

He had used it to try and douse them all in a foul smelling powder that had made her feel woozy when they first confronted him. Thankfully, Ladybug had been able to jam it with one of her previous Lucky Charms. But it was still intact.

As she ducked under a net swung in her direction, she caught Chat glaring at her, bitter venom in his eyes.

It was the same venomous look he had given her when Ladybug had given her the job of luring Exterminator to the Trocadéro.

She shook her head. There wasn’t time to think about that now. Now when there was an akuma standing right in front of her, aiming that stupid net gun at her again.

She took off running towards the akuma, and at the last second, dropped to slide as he launched a net directly at her. The net flew harmlessly overhead as she slid past him, murmuring to activate her powers as she went past him. The second she was hidden right in front of him, she dug her claws into the stone to stop herself from sliding further and launched herself to her feet.

Exterminator howled in pain, and she turned just in time to see him clutching his nose as Chat’s staff retracted.

At least he was keeping the akuma busy. She wished he hadn’t gone straight to making the akuma angrier… but at least he was distracted.

Now all she had to do was get in close and swipe the dust-sprayer.

Moving as light as a feather, and as quietly as a tiger stalking through the forest, she crept towards the akuma. The akuma howled in frustration and then pulled his snare trap from his back before swinging it wildly. She hissed as she dropped to the ground, just managing to avoid getting beaned in the head by the erratically swinging weapon.

“Don’t you know that cat always wins the game of cat and mouse?”” Chat called as he scraped his claws along the stone, loosening dust from the ground. With a smirk, he flung it at the akuma.

And her.

She froze, a glare directed at Chat fixed on her face even though he couldn’t see it. What was he doing? Was he trying to derail the plan? But maybe the dust hadn’t settled on her. And even if it had, maybe the akuma wouldn’t see it-“

“There you are.”

The akuma’s voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Without looking back to see how close the akuma was, she leapt straight up in the air with all her might. Something rushed through the space she had been occupying mere seconds ago before.

She managed to twist in midair and kick off of the akuma, who had rushed forward and unwittingly placed himself right under her. With a little less grace than usual, she landed a few feet behind the akuma. Immediately, she sprang back up and darted away from where she had landed. The akuma was looking around wildly, even with his snare trap locked with Chat’s staff. As she darted to the side to look for an opening, she caught sight of Ladybug perched on top of the roof, a small red object in her hands and a look of horror on her face.

Ladybug’s voice crackled to life in the coms. “Chat! What are you doing?”

She glanced at Chat in time to see him grit his teeth and shove against his staff, breaking the lock he had been in with Exterminator and forcing the akuma back.

Exterminator stumbled back, his free arm out to the side as he planted his snare trap to try and stop himself from overbalancing.

She had a clear path to his belt, and the dust-sprayer on it.

This was it.

On near silent feet, she sprinted forward.

She reached out for the akuma.

She was so close.

“See, M’lady, it’s you and me against the world!”

What?

“Cataclysm!”

Her eyes widened in horror as Chat’s hand erupted in a dark miasma as he lunged towards the dust-sprayer.

Towards her.

She dug her feet into the ground to try and stop herself. But she had been going so fast, it wasn’t enough to stop the momentum.

Seeing Chat hurtle towards him, Exterminator dove to the side. Out of her reach.

Out of Chat’s path.

Leaving him hurtling directly toward-

She managed to throw herself into a clumsy roll at the very last second. It wasn’t enough to avoid the collision entirely though.

Time felt like it was moving through syrup.

Heavy boots knocked against her shoulders. Claws grazed across her back.

Her heart stopped.

And then beat again as she inched through the air, no searing pain running along her back.

At least it hadn’t been his Cataclysm hand as far as she could tell.

But as she and Chat tumbled over and against each other, she felt her bolas swing up with her momentum. And then suddenly they were changing direction. Like they had hit something.

Or been pushed by-

And just as suddenly, their weight was gone.

And time doubled to catch up with itself.

The impact of Chat hitting her threw her off kilter enough so that she landed heavily on her shoulder with a thud and a very uncontrolled roll before she skidded to a stop against the pavement. The impact was enough to knock the air from her lungs.

But it could have been worse.

Gingerly, she picked herself back up and turned. Just in time to see Chat dragging himself up from the ground.

And Exterminator rushing right towards him, holding what looked like an oversized can of pesticide foam at the ready.

Despite her protesting muscles, she rushed forward and shoved Chat—maybe a little harder than was necessary—out of the way of the foul smelling stream of toxic green foam.

Exterminator barrelled past them. He started to skid to a stop, but then a familiar zip of a yoyo cut the air and the akuma was suddenly windmilling his arms. And then he fell flat on his face, just short of the pile of foam.

Ladybug was a red blur as she dove off of the roof; she was beside the Exterminator in an instant, ripping the dust-sprayer from his belt brusquely. Even with her back to her, she could see the tension in every inch of Ladybug’s body. And- her hands were shaking as she clutched the dust-sprayer in one and the unused Lucky Charm in the other.

Wordlessly, in one swift and sharp movement, Ladybug slammed the dust-sprayer down as she drover her knee up, snapping it with a loud and decisive crack that split the suddenly too-quiet air.

The next thing she knew, Ladybug’s yoyo was capturing the akuma.

But she was silent as she purified it.

She dropped her invisibility as the white butterfly fluttered away.

She watched as Ladybug pulled the akuma victim to his feet and offered him some quiet words. He nodded, and then, with an apologetic look cast in her and Chat’s direct, he hastily walked off. When she turned back to look at Ladybug, she had her Lucky Charm in her hands again. And she was staring at it.

It was hard to tell from where she was standing, but it looked like an egg-timer.

Ladybug stared at it silently. Until finally, she sighed. The moment Ladybug sighed, the timer began to ring, its sound shrill against the quiet.

She watched as Ladybug took a breath, and then hurled it into the air as she cast her purification spell.

The second the ladybugs disappeared, Ladybug turned sharply to face her and Chat. Her blue eyes were burning like ice as she approached. The burning ice flickered out of Ladybug’s eyes as they darted to her. “You ok?” she asked quietly.

She nodded.

With a short nod of her own, the icy flames returned to Ladybug’s eyes as she drew level with her and Chat.

“What,” Ladybug asked, her voice so quiet it would have been impossible to hear if not for the fact that the streets were still eerily empty in the aftermath of the akuma battle, “was that?”

Ladybug wasn’t looking at her. Not even remotely. Her eyes were fixed directly on Chat. But she still took a half a step back form the weight of her voice.

Chat audibly swallowed.

“Well, I… I was only-”

“What were you thinking? Throwing that dust?”

“I was trying to blind him!”

“And risk Tigress getting caught?”

“How was I supposed to know she would be there? She was invisible!”

Awkwardly, she shifted her weight between her feet. Should she jump in? Should she say something?

She had seen plenty of their spats firsthand, from the ones that were little more than bickering, to the ones that were full on arguments, which had become more and more frequent ever since she first received the tiger miraculous. But none of them had been…

“It was the entire plan! I told you she would be in close range. You knew she would be trying to get the akuma! You knew she could have been caught in the crossfire!”

“I’m not her babysitter,” Chat spat. “Besides, she’s a big girl, she can take care of herself. You certainly seem to think so.”

It was one thing to tell Chat how she really felt. But getting involved in a fight between the two of them…

It was like watching a tennis match, the way they volleyed back and forth. Her gaze followed the trajectory of the fight with every spoken strike.

“That isn’t the point. We’re a team.”

“We’re partners!”

“And the way you just ignored the plan and jumped in the first chance you got? That’s what partners do?”

“I was taking initiative. I was doing my job.”

“You were supposed to distract him!”

“What? So she could do my job?” He flung his arm to gesture at her, almost hitting her given the proximity.

Maybe she wouldn’t have a choice on getting involved… as appealing as standing and watching them argue was-

Before she could even so much as open her mouth, Chat continued. “I’m your partner. It’s been us from the start! And then suddenly you’re bringing in other people-”

“We need the help!”

“And you changed when you became the Guardian-”

“I never asked to be-”

“You gave out another miraculous without asking me and you’re letting her keep one!” He gestured at her again.

“We- I needed help!”

“No you didn’t! You have me!”

“No, I didn’t!”

Chat stumbled back at Ladybugs words. Both of their chests were heaving, and their faces were the same scarlet as Ladybug’s suit. Tears glimmered at the corners of Ladybug’s eyes. She stepped forward, but before she could place herself between the two, before she could reach out to comfort Ladybug, Ladybug broke the silence.

“I didn’t have you.”

Ladybug’s quiet, broken voice took her back to her room on the Liberty. Back to her friend, sitting beside her on her bed, spilling tears over too many responsibilities for one person to handle.

“Oh, Bugaboo,” Chat crooned, his furious face instantly softening, “of course you did. I’ll always be by your side, M’lady.”

Ladybug’s eyes darted back up from the ground to Chat.

“Frozer.”

Chat’s brows furrowed. “What-”

“Glaciator.”

With each name, Ladybug took a step forward.

“Oblivio. Dark Cupid-”

“M’lady, what are you talking about?”

“All the akumas where you’ve been more interested in goofing off or flirting. That, or having a snit because you were mad I don’t feel the same way.”

“I don’t-”

“I needed help.”

“We beat all of those akumas!”

“Barely! And always by the seat of our pants, because you never listen to me.”

“I listen!”

Ladybug let out an incredulous half-laugh before she drew herself up to her full height. She was still more that half a head shorter than Chat, but somehow, she didn’t seem to be.

“Like you listened tonight?” Ladybug’s voice was quiet steel.

“I- I- I…” she could see Chat floundering for something to say. Some way out of the grave he had dug for himself. “I did follow the plan!” She had to hold back a snort. Ladybug’s face morphed to pure incredulity. “I let her get the akuma to the Trocadéro! I was distracting it!”

“And then you jumped in anyways when Tigress had an opening!”

“I was being a hero!”

“You could have hurt her.” Technically, he had. The suit protected her, but the fall had still hurt. “You could have Cataclysmed her!”

“If she hadn’t been there to begin with this wouldn’t have happened!” Wildly, he turned to glare at her. “This was your fault! You told me to step up! If you hadn’t-”

“Chat! Stop. It.”

“But Bugaboo, she told me to- if she hadn’t interfered-”

“Don’t ever talk to her that way.” Ladybug’s voice was quiet and even. And deadly. “Don’t ever talk about her like that.”

“Bugaboo-”

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

“But-”

“You knew the plan.” Ladybug took a step toward Chat, the sheer weight of her voice was enough to silence him. “You chose to do your own thing.” Chat shrank back as Ladybug took another step. His face was stark white against the black of his mask, and it looked like the carpet had just been ripped out from under him. “You chose not to be part of the team.” She hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest.

Ladybug looked like she wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by another beep from her earrings.

“I’ll find you later Tigress,” she said, turning away from Chat curtly. Her voice was still still sharp, but it obviously wasn’t directed at her. And then with a flick of her wrist and the familiar zip of her yoyo, she was gone in a red and black blur.

Heavy silence hung in the air. Everything was still; there was no breeze, no rush of traffics or people going about their evening. There wasn’t even the sound of any pigeons.

It was like the world was holding its breath.

Chat cast her an icy glare. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, she turned on her heel and darted into the shadows of the Palais de Challiot.

#endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #juleka vs the forces of the universe #juleka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #adrien agreste #ladybug #purple tigress #chat noir #chat noir salt #adrien salt #high sodium #miracuclass #alya cesaire #alya salt

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