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acraftedmistake · 3 years

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A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 14

HAHAAA BACK IN BUSINESS BABY!

Hope you enjoy this one!!

Jesse sat against the broken column by the shrine’s entrance, a breeze brushing against his face. He brought his eyes up, looking at the clear blue sky through the ravine’s crack and listening to the faint conversations coming from inside the shrine. There was nothing for him here.

No answers to Lukas’ whereabouts, nothing about what The Awakening was planning next, the only thing these past few gatherings have given him was discomfort.

Nell was usually the one to talk him into attending each Gathering, but she was sick today. This was his first time coming here alone, and hopefully his last. Being by himself made him even more aware of how everything felt… Off. Whenever members saw him walk in, they’d stop by his seat to say hi and talk about what’s going on, if he was enjoying his visits, simple small talk. However, something everyone seemed too comfortable with was how close they’d get to him. Jesse was never too big on people being near or putting their hands on him, the only exceptions being a quick handshake, a pat on the back from his friends, or Aiden messing with his hair to annoy him. Those were harmless and only lasted a moment. But whenever Jesse would step into the shrine, he'd see a few people’s faces light up as they’d walk over to him with arms open wide, ready to hug him as if they were best friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. They’d pull him close, place their hand on his shoulder as they spoke about their day, and refused to loosen their grip even when he asked. Some people would look genuinely hurt when he pulled away.

There would be nights where these Awakening individuals, Nell included, would spot Jesse on the streets. Those were the worst days. The way they’d look at him with big, bright smiles that stretched from ear to ear, walking up to him and asking if he was coming to this week’s Gathering made him feel terrible. He didn’t want to keep coming, he already felt like he was betraying his own friends, but he was afraid of how the members would react if he refused to return.

He knew the members meant well and were just trying to be nice, at least, that’s what he believed, but they’re all so unaware of how horrible their leaders actually are.

“No, they aren’t called ‘leaders’,” He remembered Nell telling him before one of the Gatherings, “they’re Visions! They look after us.”

Brenner and Mahlon, the ‘Visions’, the individuals who preached about helping others, the individuals who gave guidance to their members and offered their support during trying times were the same individuals who unleashed their horrific lava creation onto the world. They were the same people who took away lives and watched the world burn with no remorse.

They were terrible.

Jesse had watched the older, white haired Vision--the man who had screamed vile curses at him and his friends--happily play with children outside of the shrine. He’d sit on the grass and tell them stories about The Awakening and The Hero after the Gatherings were over. It was so surreal to witness.

The Visions might’ve fooled these misguided people, but they haven’t fooled Jesse. He was waiting for someone, the leaders, Cecil, anyone to slip up and reveal their next scheme, but nothing’s happened yet. If they haven’t hinted at anything these past few weeks who knows how long it’ll take them. Jesse can’t keep coming here forever. Aiden and Olivia had questioned why he’s been leaving the house more often, and who the blonde woman greeting him every now and then was. He knew the excuses: “I just need to clear my head” and “Someone I kinda know” will only last him so long.

Today was going to be his last visit. There was nothing for him here.

“Is all well?” Jesse heard an older man ask. He brought his head up. Standing over him was one of the Visions. Mahlon. The Vision’s head was tilted down slightly, his foggy eye focused more on the broken column rather than the boy below.

“Yeah--Yes, Vision… Sir.” When Jesse spoke the Vision lowered his head more, ‘staring’ more in the direction from where Jesse’s voice came.

“No need to be so formal.” The old man chuckled, “You can call me by my name.” Mahlon said as he sat besides Jesse.

“You’re Jesse, if I remember correctly? Our newest member?” Mahlon asked.

“Right.” Jesse said through gritted teeth, his body stiff as a board. He tried to lean away from Mahlon. Just the thought of being associated with these people made him sick.

“And how are you liking it here?” Mahlon spoke gently, his voice was slightly hoarse.

Jesse answered with a lie, “It’s nice here.” He was afraid of locking eyes with Mahlon. He was half expecting the man’s blindness to be another deceiving trick, but anytime Jesse glanced at him, he saw a genuine look of curiosity on Mahlon’s face, like he wanted to hear more.

The mixture of Mahlon’s pleasant expression and Jesse’s fear of upsetting him prompted him to keep lying. He lied about the new friends he’s made here, how each Gathering had connected with him, and how much their words meant to him. As he kept lying, Mahlon kept smiling. Jesse couldn’t take his eyes off of Mahlon’s burn scar. Most of the old man’s face had been taken over by this fleshy-pink scar that stretched from the bottom left of his face all the way to the top right in a somewhat diagonal manner. The only remaining visible parts of his white, porcelain skin was a small portion where his right eye was, his mouth--where his long, thin white beard covered bits of the scar--and the upper left part of his forehead. Jesse had also noticed that only one of Mahlon’s eyes could open properly while the left one was melted shut. Jesse, admittingly, felt terrible that he couldn’t take his attention away from Mahlon’s distortions. It’s disrespectful--well, it’s not like the old man would ever know where he’s staring, but it was disrespectful nonetheless. The only other feature that would occasionally distract Jesse from the face was Mahlon’s long, white hair which flowed like a candle’s fire in the wind.

Jesse’s kind words sparked a rambling from the old man. Mahlon began talking about everyone’s first visit, how their family welcomes anyone with open arms, the variety of celebrations they’ll have throughout the year to look forward to… These were more words to ‘help’ Jesse feel more ‘comfortable’ here, no doubt. As Mahlon spoke, he’d gesture with his hands. The long sleeves of his robe would flow along with his movements. His attire was similar to Brenner’s. Both wore robes that were a deep shade of red. The ends of the sleeves and the bottom of the robe itself were aligned with a golden yellow. Unlike Brenner’s, however, where the bottom of his robe--and the collar around his neck--had a small, triangle slit, Mahlon had none. Instead, he had a hood that was quite difficult to spot due to his thick hair covering it. Another element Mahlon’s robe had that Brenner lacked was a thick, V-shaped golden line around his waist that could be mistaken as a belt. If Jesse really concentrated on the golden parts of the robe he could make out a variety of tiny symbols--mostly being odd shapes and dashes--on them. Their color was only slightly darker than the yellow they were sewn into, making them easy to miss.

In all honesty, the robe was elegant. It was clear so much time and effort was put into making sure this wonderful robe fit this horrible man. Someone so vile doesn’t deserve to wear something so graceful.

“So what is troubling you?” Mahlon asked. “If you’ve been enjoying your time here, then why sit out here all alone?”

“How’d you even know I was out here?” Jesse tilted his head slowly, curious and a little disturbed.

“Cecil, the lad. He told me.”

Cecil. Of course. What else has he been telling the Visions? He’s probably been keeping them updated every time Jesse so much as scratched his head, but now wasn’t the time to get upset. Jesse needed to make an excuse. Any excuse, as long as it was believable.

“I’ve been...” Jesse swallowed, “Thinking about a friend I lost.”

That was meant to be a lie, but it struck Jesse that it’s been nearly a year since Lukas had gone missing. He started to feel queasy.

Mahlon’s smile faded and was replaced by a look of sorrow, “I see.” He said in a whisper.

There was a moment of silence. Jesse hugged his knees, and Mahlon faced forward and stroked his beard.

Mahlon turned to Jesse again and spoke carefully, “I’m terribly sorry about your friend.”

“Don’t be,” Jesse had to force his next words out, “it wasn’t your fault.”

“If I may,” Mahlon said, “I had also lost someone close to me.”

“You did?” The sinking feeling in Jesse’s stomach grew.

“Yes, he was our Sense before you came along.” Mahlon began, “He had been a wonderful friend of mine since I was a boy, and I fondly remember the excitement I felt when I heard the news that he had been selected as my and Brenner’s Sense. We were all overjoyed. Even after our ceremony, where we were expected to remain resilient leaders, it truly felt like nothing had changed between us. We were three friends who worked together and achieved our dreams. Frankly, the whole experience felt like a dream.” He let out a pleasant laugh as he rested his head on his hands. “Antonin and Brenner made the last ten years of being a Vision possibly the greatest years of my life.” There was a sparkle of joy in Mahlon’s eye, “You’d be surprised how short a decade feels when you’re my age. Oh, it all went by so fast.”

Mahlon’s mouth twitched and he let out a sigh, “And perhaps I should have been wiser; spend an extra few minutes talking to him during breakfast, join him when he was training with Brenner, ramble with him in the library for a moment longer. I was so certain time was on my side. I truly thought that nothing bad could have ever happened to him.”

Jesse listened to Mahlon, and how his voice would get lower the longer he went on. It'd crack and shake at certain points of his recollection, and that bit of light in his eye began to fade. A part of Jesse wanted to feel bad, the other wondered just how blind Mahlon was.

Antonin, this ‘wonderful’ man, surely couldn’t have been the same man who was running towards Jesse and his friends the night they were fighting the lava beast. The image of the man’s black hair flying in the air as he was rushing to them, his sword held high, his red cloak torn, and nothing but hatred in his eyes as he screamed bloody murder at them under the smoke-filled sky was fresh in Jesse’s mind. Maybe Mahlon never saw this horrible side of his friend. Maybe he refused to see it.

And then there was that word, “Sense”. Jesse had heard Radar mention the word in the past when referencing The Awakening, he’s also heard that word in passing conversations in the shrine. He remembered Nell telling him all about their ‘community’ one day before a Gathering started, and they soon got on the topic of Cecil. “...He’s also a leader,” Nell had said, “...but he mostly protects the Visions. He’s like their own personal guard.” Jesse could hardly contain his disbelief. He couldn’t believe someone like Cecil was now another leader of the Awakening.

‘What a downgrade.’ Jesse thought to himself. To think the Awakening’s past Sense--a broad madman who was dead set on killing Jesse’s friends when the world was falling apart--had been replaced by some skinny, sickly pale blondie who used to flee from a fight when things became a little overwhelming. Even Cecil’s attire felt less-than compared to the Visions’ and Antonin’s. His red cloak went a bit past his waste and had a golden collar with a small, yellow button keeping the cloak together. There were no fancy symbols on it either--at least none which Jesse could see. It was jarring to see such an uptight, boastful man wear something so… Plain.

“Oh look at me, acting like he’s died long ago.” Mahlon chuckled sadly, “It’s only been a year; minutes for me.”

“You’re a fine boy,” Mahlon fixed his posture and faced Jesse’s direction again, “I’m absolutely certain your friend was just as wonderful a person as you.”

“Thank--” Jesse quickly hid his voice crack with a cough, “Thank you. He was… He was the best.”

“Our bodies may die on this earth,” Mahlon slowly rose, “but our spirits live on in The Hero’s hands.” Mahlon offered his hand to Jesse, “Will you be joining our Gathering today?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Olivia woke up. She didn’t remember falling asleep. She did remember talking with Jess about what happened last night. They were on the bed, both worried about what was happening and about each other. Guess she just… dozed off. She felt well rested at least, that’s always important. What time was it though?

She sat up and ran her hand through her tangled hair before getting out of bed. Olivia dragged her feet across the guest room’s floor to the window and opened the curtains just a sliver. She peaked through the crack, hoping to see the sun and get a vague idea of what hour it was, but instead she was greeted with light gray clouds completely covering the sky. She didn’t see anyone roaming the streets, so hopefully it was still morning. That’s technically evening for Aiden and the others, isn’t it?

She still wasn’t used to this time difference. She didn’t want to get used to it. Her sleep schedule was already weird enough, she could only imagine how horrific it would get if she got adjusted to the hours here. And being active at night… The idea didn’t sound appealing to her at all. She thought back to the times she pulled all-nighters on projects, getting headaches from the bright redstone lamps shining down on her because the Sun had set and needing to leave the comfort of her own home and storm over to the nearest cave to find whatever material she ran out of before mobs would hunt her down. Those nights were the most infuriating, and she shuddered at the thought of living every single day like that. That’d be a life full of inconveniences.

“Hm…” Olivia looked around the guest room. Where was Jess? She would’ve definitely spotted him by now, or he would’ve given her a loud ‘Good Morning!’ from behind that’d always scare the socks off of her back when they used to live in the treehouse together.

The only place she could think of was downstairs. Maybe he’s having breakfast already.

Olivia quietly left her room, making sure to open and close the door carefully so she wouldn’t awaken anyone nearby. As she made her way down the stairs, she heard a faint conversation grow louder.

When she finally reached the end, she peeked over the wall and saw Jess and Aiden sitting together on the couch working on the flint and steel. They still didn’t seem too thrilled with each other, but it was much better than the anger and shouting from last night.

“Morning guys.” Olivia said as she began walking over.

Jess waved at her, “Morning!”

Aiden gave her a stiff “Hey.”, while he continued to focus on the tool.

“Is that the appropriate thing to say?” She asked Aiden, “Can I say ‘Good Morning’? Or do you have a special phrase for this specific time?” She sat down beside Jess, sinking into the couch cushion.

“ ‘Morning’’s uncommon, but it’s fine.” Aiden replied, “Most people usually say ‘Good day’ or somethin’ like that.”

She nodded then leaned closer to the table where the items and notes were placed, “Any progress?” She shifted around, trying to get a bit more comfortable, but felt grainy, sand-like particles stuck to her feet. She glanced at the floor to see redstone powder scattered everywhere. It clinged onto the ends of the couch and got stuck in between the cracks of the wooden boards. That powder was an uncomfortable feeling on the feet and a pain to clean up.

“It was kinda rocky at first, but we’ve figured out the notes with Radar’s help!” Jess started. While he wanted to show Olivia what they’ve accomplished, Aiden was still holding onto the flint and steel with one hand, and reading a page of notes in the other, so he decided to let Aiden be. “We coated the fire striker with redstone powder. It actually stuck to the metal pretty well, but we’re still being careful whenever we place it down. We also figured out we need to make this weird mish-mash of a gold and netherrack base? Mold? Something to fit the flint in--” Jess went on to describe their plans on how they were going to create a mold out of such odd materials when suddenly Aiden interrupted.

“Olivia,” He finally spoke up, “I--I’m sorry about last night.” He gripped the flint and steel so tightly he was afraid it was going to break. “I should’ve controlled myself better--I shouldn’t have told Jesse about you. I shouldn’t have even mentioned you.” He shot up from the couch and was fidgeting with the tool now. He kept running his free hand through his hair, not caring about the red powder getting tangled up with the strands. “I put you and Jess in danger when I just wanted to help. I know--” He swallowed, “I know you’re not from this universe, you’re not really my friends, but I still want to protect you. I wanna help get you outta this mess I started.”

Olivia stopped and stared at him for a moment, surprised by this sudden apology. She slowly clasped her hands together and blinked. “Aiden…” She said quietly, “It’s okay. I forgive you.” She didn’t realize how comforting that apology was. Even if the situation was looming over them, things felt a little better.

“We’ll figure a way out of this together.” Jess added in. “And uh…” He glanced at Olivia then at Aiden, “Yeah, I’m sorry about how I acted yesterday too.”

“No, you two don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Aiden pointed at Jess as he placed the tool on top of the papers.

“But I could’ve handled things better.” Jess mumbled and went silent for a moment. “Aiden, I know you want to protect us, but we’re able to help. We don’t need to be locked in here and supervised like children. We’ve saved the world--multiple worlds--multiple times. We can help! Heck, I’m the mayor of an entire town!” He exclaimed.

“I sometimes forget about that unfortunate fact.” Olivia commented, a little smirk on her face.

Jess turned around with his eyebrows raised high. He actually looks a bit offended by her joke. “And what do you mean by ‘unfortunate’?”

“Like I could forget the time you tried to decorate Beacon Town with lava-falls for Halloween.” She kept that playful but devious expression on. She propped one leg up and rested her arm on her knee, “You nearly burnt down a good third of the buildings.”

“I put it out!” Jess felt his face turn a light shade of pink. “Plus I was following Ivor’s advice! So the Halloween Incident was technically his fault!”

“Oh sure, blame the senior citizen.” Olivia chuckled. Aiden snickered along. Jess turned even more red as he tried to think of a witty comeback, but all he could do was give her a light shove then turn away, folding his arms and pouting like a little kid as he struggled to hold back his own laughter.

“Alright, but seriously.” Aiden was finally relaxed, “I was just worked up when I said that. We can take you two outta the house and wherever you need to be as long as you hide your faces well enough.” He went to the kitchen, “I’m gonna make myself some coffee. You two want any?” He looked back at Jess and Olivia.

“Yes please!” Olivia said.

Jess shook his head, “I’m alright, thanks though.”

Aiden took out a small saucepan and placed it under the sink. He turned the faucet on and kept an eye on the water’s level.

“Actually…” Jess perked up, “Speaking of lava, what did that lava monster you guys fought look like? I’ve been thinking about it ever since you’ve brought it up.”

“Now that you mention it,” Olivia said, patting down her frizzy hair, “I’ve been pretty interested as well.”

“Oh jeez.” Aiden sighed as he turned off the water and brought the pan to the stove. He turned the heat to medium high, the knob making faint clicking sounds with each number he passed. “Man, we could only stare at that thing for a couple of seconds or our eyes would’ve melted off.” As the water slowly began to heat up, Aiden turned to a higher cabinet and swung it open.

“I knew it had a couple of eyes and a bunch of arms.” He pushed aside a few items and stopped when he spotted a small, crinkled, light blue bag.

“How many?” Olivia asked.

“Hero if I know.” Aiden let out a laugh, “More than five. It’d drag itself around with them, one arm would merge into another, and then when that thing brought one of it’s limbs back into the air--” He raised one of his arms over his head attempting to recreate the motion, “--you could see the arm split up into two or three more. And when it’s claws would hit the ground it’d send rocks and magma flying everywhere.” He splayed his fingers out, “I know a good chunk of forests burnt down, and some houses in nearby towns too, unfortunately. The library almost got hit too!” He explained while he opened and closed multiple drawers, trying to look for something.

“And the sound. Sweet Hero, the sound. It’s one of those things I’ll probably never forget. I sometimes hear it in my dreams.” He finally spotted what he was searching for--a tablespoon--and closed the drawer. He opened his bag of coffee, scooped up a hefty spoonful of powder, and added it into the pan, getting a bit of the powder on the kitchen counter. “So it’d start off real low, right? Almost sounds like a rumble, but then it’d open it’s mouth more and more until it’d let out this roar that left us deaf for nearly a minute!” He added a few more tablespoons into the water and began mixing the contents together, “Hadrian told us the sound was enough to shake the buildings, and that it’s body was so bright they thought it was day! He and Mevia used to travel the world a ton and they told us they’ve never seen anything like that creature before.”

“That’s insane.” Olivia’s eyes were wide. “That thing sounds just as dangerous as Ivor’s Witherstorm.”

“Tell me about it.” Jess was thinking about what such a beast would look like. Multiple eyes, a giant mouth, enough strength to shake the earth with each step it took. He could only imagine how horrendous the damage must’ve been, the smoke that filled the air with the fires it caused, the ashes flying everywhere, it was probably hot enough to melt a person’s skin off if they were unfortunate enough to stand too close.

“Now,” Aiden said as he tossed the tablespoon into the sink, “how bout that Witherstorm of yours? What was that like?”

Jess thought it was only fair to share their tale now. He went into detail about how the Witherstorm happened in the first place, how it kept following them and destroying everything in it’s path, how they had to travel across the world to create a weapon strong enough to destroy it, only for that plan to fail and leading to Jess having to kill it from the inside. This soon led to Jess going off about Ivor and The Order of the Stone, the Ender Dragon, and how Jess and his friends discovered the truth about them. Every now and then when Jess would mention the names of people he’s met, he’d ask Aiden if he’s ever interacted with them in this universe. Aiden needed their physical appearance to be described to get a good idea of them, but most of his answers were usually: “Don’t know them.” or a “I think we might’ve met ‘em?”. The only names Aiden seemed familiar with were Isa, Harper, and Otto. There was a big maybe on Gabriel and Soren.

“Hadrian and Mevia might’ve known them, honestly.” Aiden said at one point, “They’ve met a ton of people when they were ramblers.”

As Jess and Olivia kept going back and forth talking about the Admins, White Pumpkin, and everything else they’ve experienced, Aiden would listen along and chime in with similar situations he and his friends went through. His reactions were definitely mixed when he learned about their Cassie Rose and what she’s done. There’d be points where all he could do was laugh over how bizarre the situation sounded, and other instances where he couldn’t react at all because of how… Unstable Jess and Olivia’s Cassie Rose seemed. Aiden eventually came back into the living room with two cups of fresh, hot coffee in his hands. He sat beside Jess and placed one of the cups on the table for Olivia. She gave him a quiet thank you as they both continued to listen to Jess’ stories.

Jess was sharing his experiences out of order, but he was finally telling Aiden about Hadrian and Mevia. How they ran these twisted games and how he thought Lukas and Petra were killed right before his eyes--when suddenly Aiden jerked forward and choked on his coffee.

He hurriedly placed his cup down--spilling a bit of his drink--and broke into a coughing fit. Jess patted his back a couple of times to try and help him.

“You--your friends with Lukas in your universe?” Aiden asked between coughs.

“Yeah,” Jess answered, “I thought we--” He froze. Oh no. They never… Did they never tell Aiden that they knew Lukas in their universe? Or maybe they did--but did they never mention that they were all friends?

“And he’s alive?” Aiden said, his voice a touch raspy from the strain.

“Yes--absolutely! He’s still in one piece! We met cause of the Witherstorm and got real close throughout all those adventures.” Jess was speaking so fast, “Argh, I’m sorry, I thought I told you this.” How could he forget to tell Aiden something as major as this? Especially after Aiden had told him all about the struggles he and his friends went through after their Lukas went missing.

“No, don’t be. I probably--” Aiden stopped to cough again, “I probably forgot. I sorta remember you mentioning I kinda sucked in your universe.” He grinned. There was a sad look in his eyes. “But are Lukas and I… Are we friends there?”

Jess didn’t answer for a second. In that second he thought back to Sky City; the hatred and disgust in Lukas’ eyes whenever he had to face or even acknowledge Aiden. He thought about the many letters their Aiden had sent over that Lukas threw away. He remembered Lukas’ curious expression contorting to pure anger when Jess had mentioned Aiden wanting redemption. He doesn’t--

“Oh, absolutely!” Olivia lied. “Sure you guys hit a couple of rough patches here and there, especially after the whole Sky City incident, but you two made up!”

Jess went along, “You two live pretty far away from each other, but I know you and Lukas like to hang out at this one restaurant at least once a month to catch up.”

“The Shulker Spices?” Olivia made up the restaurant’s name on the spot.

Jess snapped his finger, “Yeah, that one! Great stuff.”

“That’s good to hear… That’s probably the best thing I’ve heard in a while.” The soft smile on Aiden’s face faltered for a moment. Sure, he looked relieved, but Jess felt terrible. He hated flat out lying like this, but there was no way he was going to crush Aiden with the truth, and it’s not like he’ll ever know. They did the right thing. Even if it doesn’t feel like it.

Aiden’s body loosened and he let out a long sigh. “It’s been rough ever since he went missing.” He admitted, “Jess, you got a lotta good things back in your universe. Your friends are all still there, you’ve been able to take down any problems comin’ at you… I bet the people there must love ya.”

“But… Your friends love you too, don’t they?” Jess asked, gently placing his hand on Aiden’s back.

“Yeah--I didn’t mean to--of course they do!” Aiden quickly lifted his head back up, “And… You know…” His face got a little red, “I love ‘em too.”

Aiden went to grab his coffee to have another sip, “But you two need to get back to your universe. Once Rose comes back we can finish that flint and steel and get you two home.”

“Cassie’s still gone?” Olivia sounded concerned.

“She’ll be alright.” Aiden said, gesturing with his mug. “I know she can handle herself in extreme places like the Nether, but if she doesn’t come back by the end of tomorrow, we’ll have to hunt her down.”

The three sat on the couch, motionless for a minute, and couldn’t really think of anything else to talk about, so Jess and Olivia decided to finally make themselves breakfast. Jess helped himself to a couple of eggs; preparing a pan to scramble them in while Olivia mostly searched throughout the kitchen for ideas. She didn’t know what she was craving, she just knew she was hungry. As she scanned the contents of the pantry, something struck her.

“Sort of on the topic of questions, or--well, things about other universes…” She fumbled with her words as she reached inside to grab a small container of oatmeal, “I was wondering if there’d be anyway to, uh, see my place of death--my grave. If--if I have one.” She immediately held her breath after asking that question. She knew this was undoubtedly a personal thing to ask, but she’s been wanting to know for some time. She didn’t know when to ask before, and--and this felt like her only chance. She glanced at Aiden to see if he had heard her. He was staring right back at her, frozen in place with his coffee inches away from his face. His mouth was stuck open like he was in disbelief over what Olivia had just asked. Olivia even caught a glimpse of Jess being just as off guard by her question.

“I--We don’t--” Olivia stammered. She quickly turned away from the boys and tried to hide her face behind the pantry door, “We don’t have to! I understand if you don’t want to!” She said, “It might be dangerous to go outside anyways, I don’t mind if you describe it instead--”

“Is that what you wanna do?” Aiden asked, the energy of his voice absent compared to what it sounded like minutes ago. He set his cup aside and headed to the kitchen. To Olivia.

“Only if you think it’s safe.” Olivia’s voice was shaky. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. She shouldn’t have asked.

“If we go together,” Jess spoke up, “and hide ourselves, we should be alright.” He wanted to try and be supportive, but even he wasn’t too sure about this.

“Right.” Aiden said, focusing on Olivia. He folded his arms, “We’d have to do it soon. Today might be your only chance. If that’s where you want to go, I’ll take you there.”

#mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm olivia #mcsm aiden #mcsm jesse #mcsm mahlon #APWHNPMCSMWASAMCSM #UH super quick rambles but thank u to all the people who have been patient with this story!!#i was always real used to makin chapters like 10.000 words or more . especially when i was in the zone #and i always tried to put some big ol event to make things interesting #that i kinda gave myself this weird pressure that every chapter HAD to be like that or it'd be boring #or if i didn't reach this certain word amount i'd 'failed'#n writing just kinda became intimidating and i didn't know how to approach it for a while #things got better after some time gfdsfesdfgsf #just took some time to move away from those stupid standards i had set up for myself rip #but now!!!!!#writing again!!!!#thank u for tuning into tags and hope u enjoy story!!

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90stvshowgoth · 3 years

Text

— BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: dabi is on the run from the cops when you just happened to leave your window open.

tags: drunk sex, creampie, overstimulation, dubcon but not really,

wc: 6729

a/n: this is my first dabi fanfic so i’m worried i might’ve made him a bit too ooc but tbh i don’t care. soft dabi is what i want and soft dabi is what i will get. huge thanks by the way to @a-monsters-love who beta read this story and made it a lot less sucky!

my requests are open by the way!

What woke you wasn’t the explosions or the screams, but the sirens. The mechanical moans echoed through the streets of Musutafu, and that sound pulled you up out of bed, looking out your window in a bleary state of half-asleep fear.

‘What was going on?’ Goosebumps ran up your arms as you peered out your alleyway view window, overlooking the fire escape to the siren that had recently been installed in your neighborhood a few months back. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you tried to recall when the Pro Hero Association had brought it, and that same chill sank to your bones as you remembered just what they were for.

A villain had attacked the prefecture. A dangerous one.

You tried to calm your breathing, slowly walking backwards from the window to think rationally about the situation.

‘There’s no reason for somebody to attack a random apartment building, they’re off fighting heroes,’ The reasonable side of your brain said.

Despite that the siren was still wailing across town and it began to set you on edge. You certainly weren’t falling back asleep any time soon. If you couldn’t go back to bed you thought you’d might as well make some tea to calm your frigid nerves. You smiled when you saw your well-loved cardigan hanging next to the door and hugged it close, otherwise wearing nothing but your bra and leggings.

When you stepped into the main room you breathed in the warm scent of the candle that you’d accidentally left burning. Cursing yourself for your lack of fire safety, you shrugged and used the wick to light your path to the counter. After filling up the kettle under the sink you left it under the lit stove to boil, taking a moment to admire how the burner’s low flames were almost purely blue.

From here you could see the small television beside the couch and with a press of a button it came to life before you. The harsh glare made your eyes wince before they adjusted to the unfriendly light.

You were drawn to the red index near the corner that blinked the words ‘breaking news.’ This made your sleep-addled brain finally connect the dots between the sirens and the reporter. The screen cut to a newsman outside of what used to be a ten-story building when all that remained was a smoking husk. Hesitantly, you increased the volume to hear what happened.

“—before fleeing the scene. We have reports that say the hero fighting him was put into critical condition following the attack, and is currently being taken to the hospital. A video was taken by a nearby woman who sent it to the authorities. We believe this clip to be of the suspects,” the journalist paused, and a low-quality film began to play. Whoever was recording had badly shaking hands so It was difficult to make out. Your eyes widened at the sight of the building you walked by every day for work, the Shishido hero agency, razed by a torrent of blue wildfire.

Escaping from the crumbling building were four or so figures, too far away to see with any accuracy, but each had an unmistakeable silhouette. The League of Villains.

They were something of a modern socratic dialogue. Whenever someone brought up their name or the hero killer Stain’s it was always just to be a contrarian towards whoever was on the opposing side. Fanatical opinions would spark heated arguments online but you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Although, if you’d have to pick a side, you would choose the League’s. After Stain’s video had spread through Japan you dug deeper into the shady histories of some of the Commission’s most well-respected heroes. Whatever standard you held those pros to crumbled into dust under miles of ‘collateral damage,’ and omitted crimes that were swept under the rug by police. So when the faces of the league went up on the screen you couldn’t help but smile at their victory.

The whistle of the kettle pulled you from the television. You rushed to take it off the stove before it could get any louder, and routinely began to fix the tea just the way you like it. You hummed, smiling as the first sip of the warm brew spread down your body, fending off the cold.

You threw the remote onto the couch that sat across from the small kitchen. Moving back to your bedroom and getting cozy with the tea, you reveled in the way that the mug loosened the frozen joints of your fingers. But before you could relax and block out the sirens with some music, you noticed another chill rush through the small room. Groaning over-dramatically, you set the tea down to retrieve another blanket from your pile; but your eyes widened when you tracked down the source of the cold.

Your window was open.

That caught you off guard. You were absolutely sure you closed it before bed knowing how low the temperatures would drop, though with growing panic you noticed how you specifically don’t remember locking it. There’s only two ways it could’ve been open now. Either you simply misremembered earlier that night and forgot to close it...

Or someone else broke in.

The tea’s warmth was long forgotten as you reached shaking hands to close the window. But before you could slide the panel shut a calloused hand clawed itself around your mouth so you couldn’t scream.

Fear gripped your lungs as you struggled to breathe, thrashing desperately against the second arm your assailant had snaked over your waist to keep you still. Your leg banged painfully on the side of the windowsill as you struggled but it didn’t deter you from opening your mouth wide enough to bite down on the attacker’s hand.

“Fuck!” He cursed when your teeth drew blood around his thumb and practically threw you to the ground. As you were about to use your newfound freedom to scream for help, the man lunged towards you with one outstretched hand.

His flesh was suddenly engulfed in a hissing blue fire and you winced at the wave of heat that flared so close to your face. From here you could easily make out the assailant’s features from the illuminating glow of his flames.

He had deep scars circled under his eyes using what looked like piercings to hold the tattered skin together. His lips quirked after realizing he’d caught you for good, making his charred skin pull against the metal in his cheekbones. Panic hadn’t altered your memory, you knew exactly who was standing over you. Dabi of the League of Villains.

Before either of you could make another move someone banged on the front door. You turned to look towards the sound but the heat close to your reddening throat kept you from doing anything stupid.

“Ma’am this is the police, open the door.” You and Dabi stared at each other from the implications and you could already see a plan forming behind his eyes.

He leaned far too close, keeping his lit hand still hovering over your neck as he whispered his words into your ear, “Listen to me nice and close, doll,” you couldn’t bring yourself to breathe underneath the searing tension. “You’re gonna answer that door. You’re gonna smile and say that nobody’s home. And if you give away fuckin’ anything,” Dabi’s flames somehow stoked themselves, the heat so intense that your teardrops evaporated before they could leave your eyes, “I’ll set your hair on fire first. So you can feel your brain cooking.” He spoke with a dripping malice that made your blood run cold despite the flames creeping up his arm. You nodded, too terrified to form words as he pushed forward; telling you to get up.

The brief walk from your bedroom to the front door had never felt so long. Your legs felt like the static emanating from the television, all shaky and unstable. Once your hands curled around the handle you decided not to spare a glance back.

‘What do I do?’ You didn’t want to die, at least not by immolation of all things, so you’d have to play along. You cupped your feverish face in your hands and took an unsteady breath. ‘As long as I can fool these cops, I’ll be fine. I can do this,’ At least, you hoped.

Opening the door caused the hallway’s lights to flood through your darkened doorway. Once your eyes flinched with discomfort you saw the unmistakeable uniforms of two police officers, both middle-aged and looking much more disinterested than you would’ve thought.

“Is there a problem?” You could lie smoothly enough but your voice was still feeble from Dabi’s strain on your neck.

The one who had called out earlier answered your question, “A member of the League of Villains was seen climbing in through a window to this apartment building, but the witness didn’t remember exactly which floor or room. Is anyone else with you?”

You feigned confusion, going so far with the act as to tilt your head slightly to the side. “No, I’m sure I’m alone, sir.”

At that moment a painfully loud squeak echoed from your bedroom and your eyes widened at the audible gap in your story. There was a loose floorboard right beside your bookshelf that creaked under even the slightest weight. You’ve learned to avoid it over time but Dabi had no idea.

That bored expression on the cop’s face shifted and you scrambled to come up with a explanation. “I thought you said you lived alone?”

An idea popped straight from your brain to your mouth, “My cat! His name is—“ you thought of the old, lovable house-cat your family had kept while growing up, “Byron. He like to get into my plants.”

“...Alright then, Ma’am, just keep yourself safe.” It seemed to just barely convince them.

You almost couldn’t fight back the elation as you waved off the oblivious pair, heeding their words by locking the door behind them in a rush. Pressing your back against the wood, you tried to settle the adrenaline pounding through your chest. Unfortunately as soon as you started to calm down, Dabi strode from the bedroom with a curious look in his eyes.

“Not bad, lady. Didn’t think you’d give it your all like that,” he must’ve kicked himself for making that noise and thought you would’ve used it as a way to give him up, “especially for a villain like me.”

The tension in the air had noticeably lessened, and you started to think you had a good shot at surviving the night. “I mean, I didn’t want them to find you either.”

Dabi paced around the living room, turning on one of your floor lights in his path towards the couch, “And why’s that?” He asked, flopping unceremoniously onto the secondhand loveseat.

Sure, you were still half pissed at the guy for breaking into your apartment and threatening to kill you, but it was clear that everything he did wasn’t personal. He just needed to escape from the police, but since they were gone what would happen now?

“Because...” you wanted to find the right words to convince him, “because I hate heroes too.”

Under the dim glow of the lamp you caught a glimpse of a half-handsome smile from that answer. Now that there was none of the malice from before you could appreciate just what he looked like under the warm lighting. Especially his eyes, which turned out to be a truly stunning shade of blue.

He kicked his feet onto your coffee table and patted the seat next to him. You’d have to deal with whatever dirt or soot he’d tracked inside tomorrow morning, but for now you found yourself accepting his invitation.

“Lucky me, huh?” Dabi asked rhetorically, and you found yourself almost smiling back at him. The couch was still cold underneath you but you painfully realized that Dabi was emanating heat like a goddamn generator.

‘It must’ve been from his quirk.’ you thought bitterly, shivering despite yourself.

Dabi drew a pack of Newports from his coat pocket and slid a cigarette out with his teeth. Instead of using a lighter a thin blue flame ignited on his index finger. He held it to the tip and drew in a deep lungful of smoke.

“So, what’s your deal, anyways? You got a thing for villains or something?” He wondered out-loud, teasing another blush onto your face as you shook your head.

“No, I just— I mean not like that,” From the look on his grafted face you could tell he wasn’t convinced. “The Hero Commission is corrupt, I agree with the league on that at least. Stain’s video kinda affected me, you know?”

Another small grin graced his lips and a small part of you decided that you wanted to see that expression more often, “What’s your name, doll?”

The question put you at ease; When he repeated it back, rolling the syllables over his tongue, you couldn’t wait to hear him say it again. Wordlessly, he extended his hand towards you, offering the lit cigarette between his fingers. When you took it all you could focus on was how warm his hands felt against yours for those brief seconds.

Wisps of smoke danced in the air as you inhaled, coughing a bit after the dry tang started to sting the back of your mouth. He smirked at your reaction before taking the cheap cigar from your fingertips.

Dabi saw the remote you left laying on the couch and mindlessly turned on the TV across from you. The news station was once again playing, this time an interview with one of the heroes who fought at the scene. This hero in particular was an older man with a receding hairline and an honestly ridiculous outfit that looked somewhere between a scuba diver and a 70s golden-age comic book character.

Beside you, Dabi groaned at the sight of him, “This fuckin’ guy...”

“Were you the one that fought him?” He nodded without breaking his attention from the screen.

“His quirk was such a pain to deal with. He controlled all the oxygen in the room— made it hard to set his ass on fire.”

There were a surprising lack of injuries on Dabi as far as you could see, aside from a few scrapes alongside the bruised scars that crawled below his loose shirt. You couldn’t help but wonder how far down they went, but quickly turned your attention back to the screen to ignore those ideas. The hero he fought looked far worse for wear, skin marred with fresh burns that singed holes into the costume; His legs shaking similarly to how yours were just fifteen minutes ago. Dabi seemed to have that effect on people.

Before you could ask him how he’d won his fight he was off the couch and walking towards the kitchen. He casually searched through your apartment with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

You sighed, a bit annoyed at how he helped himself to your fridge, “Dabi, if you’d tell me what you’re looking for I could show you.”

“Nah, already found what I wanted.” He dug open one of the drawers and smirked as he pulled a chill bottle of wine from the fridge.

Dabi tracked down two nearby glasses and a corkscrew before returning to your side and started to twist the metal tip into the pliant seal. It pulled loose with a soft pop and he filled each of your cups with the cherry wine you had been saving for a special occasion.

As you raised the rim to your lips and breathed in the fermented smell you paused. Were you really about to drink wine with a villain? A wanted criminal who broke into your apartment? His hand had been around your throat as he whispered about how he would burn you alive less than half an hour ago. There had to be something wrong with you to even consider it. Beside you he nearly emptied half the glass in his first sip before going back to enjoying his cigarette and you found your resolve crumbling at his lazy half-smile. Making possibly one of the dumbest mistakes of your life, you followed his lead and took a long swig from the bittersweet drink, intent on letting the alcohol relax your nerves.

The effects were slow to come, it was only wine after all, but as the night carried on and the two of you kept drinking you started to notice the effects taking hold. At the very least, conversation between you flowed easily, trading questions about each other that never grew too inquisitive. He didn’t try to pry too deeply, he didn’t even ask for your last name, and you were sure to never bring up his scars. You talked for what must’ve been hours, and as the bottle emptied, the space between the two of you grew smaller.

Dabi could handle his alcohol, but you couldn’t, clearly. To be fair, he was tipsy, but the way you unashamedly leaned your head on his shoulder when you grew tired was anything but sober.

“So, doll, got a boyfriend or something?” He asked, testing the waters. You leaned up and sighed at the question.

“No, nothin’ like that... I haven’t had the time.” You tipped your glass back but the wine never reached your lips. You groaned at the sight of the empty cup and leaned up to grab the bottle from the table. Unfortunately, Dabi’s hand held onto yours before you could reach the vice; You felt him pull you back towards the couch by your wrist until you lost your balance, falling back against his shoulder. If he minded he didn’t show it as his arm rested around your hip.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” The condescending tone in his voice was annoying but it wasn’t enough to make you move from his comfortable grasp.

You scoffed, messing with your hair to avoid looking at his face, “God, who are you, my dad?”

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face, “Oh, so you’re into that Daddy shit, huh?”

The comment took you so off-guard that you broke into a fit of giggles that did nothing to temper the blush returning to your face. Dabi loved how much of an effect he had on you; the simplest words turning you into a flustered mess.

“Nah, not my thing-“ ‘Unless you’re into it,’ You barely kept yourself from saying that second part out loud. From this angle Dabi had the perfect view of your tits pressing against his chest and he stared shamelessly. You barely noticed, too focused on how warm he was while holding you close to his side. It almost looked like something a boyfriend would do, but you knew better.

It was a strange feeling, to be so under Dabi’s influence. Every lingering touch, every heated stare... It was driving you crazy. And he knew it. He was toying with you and you couldn’t believe how much you loved it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a chill running down your spine, only realizing that you were so caught up in your time spent with Dabi that you forgot to close the very window he had snuck through. As the night carried on it somehow got colder and you cursed the thin cardigan you found yourself wearing that did nothing to shield away the biting air.

“You cold, doll?” Dabi was surprisingly perceptive, noticing the trail of goosebumps that ran down your arms. Although, perhaps it was the sensation of his hand trailing over your skin that caused it rather than the wind.

Nodding hesitantly, he wasted no time in wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You couldn’t have held back the relieved sigh that left your lips if you tried. Because when Dabi wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you to his chest, it felt like heaven to your frigid bones.

As you curled into the embrace he couldn’t ignore how you felt on top of him. The pressure of your ass sitting on his dick drove him crazy, and it took damn near everything in him to not push you down face first and take you then and there.

“Dabi, you feel amazing,” His eyes widened, your slurred words almost making him lightheaded, “so warm...” You trailed your hands up and threaded them through his coarse dark hair. The faintest of groans left his lips as you got comfortable and accidentally dragged yourself down the front of his jeans.

All at once he took hold of the skin of your thighs, stopping you from moving and damn near shaking with effort to keep still. “Doll... cause’ you’re drunk, I’ll ask you this one time—“

“—Please, Dabi,” You didn’t budge under his bruising grasp or struggle like before, instead holding eye-contact, resolve heavy in your voice, “I want this- want you so bad,” It was enough for him, and he didn’t hold back.

He was ravenous when he finally pressed his lips to yours, leaving you tongue-tied and moaning into his mouth. The alcohol only added fuel to your desire, easing the tension on your clit by grinding against him. He broke the kiss in a choked gasp, his hands cupping you around your ass and fondling you through the thin material. When he stood up from the couch gravity somehow felt heavier, but it must’ve been from the wine. His hands still held you by your thighs and while he backed the both of you towards the bedroom his lips never left yours, even when he went to rip your cardigan off your shoulders, leaving it behind along with his coat, you in only your bra and leggings.

The loud bang from Dabi kicking the door open startling a squeak out of you and he chuckled into the kiss, running a stapled hand through your bedhead and pulling hard enough to make you keen into his touch. Rather unceremoniously he threw you onto the bed, briefly disorientating before you could make out Dabi’s alluring figure ridding himself of his clothes. Once he pulled over his shirt you saw his maimed chest covered in taught muscles and scars. As he broke your gaze to turn his attention to his jeans, fumbling with the cheap zipper, you couldn’t help from crawling towards him slowly on your knees before whispering, “No—“ He looked up from his trance, wondering if you’d changed your mind before you quickly perished the thought by pulling him towards you by the loops on his jeans. He raised an eyebrow at your show but didn’t make a move to interrupt the adorable way you took care of him.

So you began, looking into his eyes as you kissed down his deformed chest. It seemed a miracle he was even standing before you, with haphazard staples barely holding him together. You couldn’t resist giving the seams of his wounds special attention, pressing light kisses to the metal as you made your way down.

You unhooked his jeans easily, eagerly reaching to feel him through his boxers. His nails dug into your scalp when you finally eased his shorts off, breaking your eyes away to look between his legs and—

You couldn’t’ve stopped the needy moan from your lips if you tried, too attracted and nervous about the shiny bridges of metal through his dick. “Fuck, Dabi...” he had the most cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face as he watched you salivate over him.

“What’s wrong, baby? Never had a guy with piercings before?” You didn’t even hear him, instead responding with a dazed shake of your head; far too tipsy on the sight of him towering over you, reddened head leaking against his stomach.

He pretended to come to a decision, “Guess I’ll have to take my time with you before fucking that cute pussy,” his words sent heat straight to your core, slick pooling in your ruined panties, “but then why am I the only one naked? You’re gonna make me embarrassed you know.” The amused look on his face put you at ease and you laughed a bit at the idea.

“You? You’re the most shameless person I’ve ever met.” The smile he brought out was enough to ease the nerves that came with being so vulnerable to a man like Dabi.

The foe-offended look on his face wasn’t any less ironic, “You wound me, doll,” when his attention fell back to your clothes he didn’t hesitate to snake his hand below your arched back and unclasp your bra. Before you could think of covering yourself he’d already raised your arms up and thrown the lace material into some corner of your room.

He was on you in an instant, biting and sucking on the plush skin of your tits with abandon, enjoying every small tremor it brought from your shaking lips. To him your body was a blank canvas just begging for him to bruise, and he would take his sweet time carving teeth marks into your chest.

But while he had his fun you had yours, running your hand along his collarbones and carefully worrying the stapled hem of skin. You weren’t sure how the stitches would hold up otherwise. But before you could worry about it too much you felt him pull away, a deep hickey left in his wake.

“You don’t have to be gentle with them,” he looked up at you with an unexpected sincerity.

With that there was nothing to hold you back from dragging your nails down his chest, the villain groaning as you felt his solid stomach beneath you. From a distance he looked like a patched rag-doll that was barely holding itself together but up close the wiry muscles that clung to his calloused body couldn’t be ignored. Dabi practically hissed when he felt your soft fingers wrap around his cock, only spurring you on further. The piercings weren’t as rigid as they appeared but they were scalding to the touch.

His breathing stuttered around you as you picked up your pace, the heat of his breath pulsing on your cheek as you took in every sinful expression on his face. He cried out, squeezing his eyes shut at the pleasure. You stared unabashedly, taking note of how peaceful he looked above you. Like for the first time that night his body wasn’t wrought with chronic pain.

When you pulled your hand away his eyes shot open. “I didn’t tell you to fuckin’ stop.” He sounded pissed but before you could lose confidence you shifted your weight to the side, locking your arms together behind his to roll him over, leaving you on top.

“I wanna make you feel good, Dabi,” Thankfully he seemed to be curious as to what you had planned, letting you stay on top for now. You crawled down his body until you reached his painful hard-on. Wrapping your hand back around him you gave him the most doe eyed gaze you could manage before taking him into your mouth.

“God, that’s fuckin’ good,” He cradled your head and set his own pace, not too rough but far from gentle as you fought the urge to cough. The metal of his piercings were hot against your tongue, the heat unlike any other experience you’ve had before. Wrapping your tongue around him you intentionally hummed, the keening moan it brought from him more than worth the burn. Tears crowded near your eyelashes as he chased his own pleasure, breaking his gaze to crane his head back in ecstasy. His neck bobbed with the effort and the sight made you almost proud.

It was over far too soon and once he pulled away you almost missed the weight of him in your mouth. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you, hear me?” His words made you all too aware of how badly you needed him, but he continued to run his mouth as he pushed you up the sheets and took his place back on top of you, “Gonna fill you so good, babydoll,” He caged you beneath him and you whined at the feeling of his slick cock heavy against your thighs.

His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, which do you want?” His blue eyes looked black in the feint light, staring at you with such an amused intensity that you didn’t even register what he said.

“What?”

Dabi tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning closer and whispering, “My mouth? Or my fingers?”

You normally wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye after he said that but liquid courage still ran through your veins and you leaned forward until you could nestle into the crook of his neck.

“Your fingers, Dabi,” You groaned as you felt his grip around your jawline move until his left hand curled around your neck and his right tore off your leggings before slipping below the waistband of your underwear. As soon as he touched you his eyes widened, a feral glint in his eyes.

“Fuck— Doll, you’re so fucking wet,” He squeezed your neck experimentally and the rush of endorphins sent to your head felt divine. It wasn’t to be outdone when you felt him circle your clit with his thumb, rushing into such a fast pace from the get-go. The onslaught of pleasure made a scratchy cry slip from under the grip of his hand. Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you were almost thankful for the immovable grip around your neck. It served almost like an anchor to ground you underneath him.

He pulled a startled squeak from your throat when his two fingers pushed their way inside. It barely hurt, but the maddening feeling of his long fingers curling and stretching your walls was one you wouldn’t forget. Dabi shushed your eager cries with an endless stream of filth whispered into your ear, “Can’t wait to fuck my cum into you, dollface. You want that? You gonna be my good fucking slut?” He was downright mean as he took his time stringing you like a bow. “You wanna feel me drip out of you like a street whore?”

“Yes, Dabi, I’ll be good, I promise just please—” You were too far gone at that point, grabbing fist fulls of dark hair to yank him to your mouth, the kiss muffling his groan from you pulling on your hair. His index finger curled so slightly into you, the pace on your clit turning soft once he added his third finger. The sound he brought out of you was somewhere between a dying choke and euphoric moan, each sensation coaxing you into his touch. Feeling him move so easily within you was almost enough to bring you over, your whimpers increasing against his lips, only for all of it to be taken away.

Dabi left you grasping around nothing when he took his hands away, no doubt enjoying the desperate way you tried to rock yourself back onto him. Only when you did, you were met with something far bigger than his fingers.

“Come on...” When he called you by your name it brought you back to earth for a minute, “I want you to beg for me,” looking to see his heavy length pressed against you as he rubbed the glistening tip onto your clit. “You’re gonna beg for a villain to fuck you,” The promise of pleasure was so enticing that it was worth lying to the cops, worth risking your safety, and enough to toss your pride out the open window.

Grabbing him by his hair, you forced him to look at you. “Dabi, please, I need you... Need you in me ‘til you cum,” desperation and lust coated every sinful word you said, but Dabi wasn’t satisfied. “I wanna be good for you, Dabi, want you to fuck me, fill me up, ple-“ your words were cut off by the intense stretch of your walls trying to take him in. You’d never screamed someone’s name so loudly before in your life.

“Oh, fuck-! Shit... your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight,” As each inch sunk deeper you couldn’t speak or even breathe.

He wasn’t wasting any time, mercifully toying with your clit as he filled you. The air felt thin in your bedroom, like you were hundreds of feet from the ground, drawing short, shallow gasps beneath him.

“Da-bi!” His hips ground slowly against yours and you were suddenly thankful for his prepping, unable to come to grips with just how full you felt.

An overwhelmed laugh fell from his burnt lips as he slowly pulled himself from your dripping sex, “What’sa matter, babe? Can’t take it?”

The pout on your face only made him grin, the childish indignity adorable to him. But his teasing was starting to push you to your limits. He might’ve been a powerful villain and you a civilian, but it didn’t mean he had to treat you like glass. Hooking your legs around his waist you forced him forward. Dabi’s eyes shot open and both of you choked at the sharp friction. Any trace of playfulness died then and there, his knuckles turning white from the grip on your hips.

He kept your legs tight around him as he surged forward, your mouth caught open in a daze. You weren’t sure what his piercings would’ve felt like inside of you but god, was it good. The metal spokes impressed into your body with fervor, constantly dragging against your sensitive walls.

Tomorrow you might say that the wine was what drove you so crazy for him, but you knew you’d be lying to yourself. He was by far the most intoxicating libation you’d ever tried. The sound of skin against skin was almost deafening, only broken by the dulcet groans from the man above you and the siren that still echoed outside your widow like white noise. In the back of your mind you wondered if they were still searching for him.

Dabi leaned his head into the crook of your neck, revisiting the marks he’d already made. His teeth bit down your chest all the while abusing your aching clit. It was all too much. You couldn’t help clawing at his broad shoulders, leaving inflamed tracks in your wake. When your nails made contact with the scorched seam on his back Dabi moaned, the loud whine in his voice got you to realize something crucial. The motherfucker got off on pain.

His touch turned ravenous after that, pulling you tight against him until there wasn’t any space between your bodies. The rough texture of his skin-graphs and the blistering heat of their staples pushing against your breasts just made his brutal pace feel more intense.

Your voice was higher pitched than you’d ever thought you could manage, squeaking out small moans with every quick pulse of his hips. Your ankles were sore and locked together— he couldn’t have pulled out if he tried. The legs that were still wrapped around him twitched involuntarily as you felt the string inside your core about to snap.

“Fa.. fuck, Da—bi I’m—“ you stuttered against him, crying into his shoulder when you felt his pelvis grinding so perfectly onto your clit while he railed you, screaming his name one more time as he pulled you overboard, being sure to scratch at his back as you thrashed futilely against him.

All at once his teeth were buried into your throat, digging in so hard that you mistook his spit for blood; his bite only sharpening the orgasm that sent waves of heat coursing through you. Against your dented skin he groaned and cursed, his voice coarse but dripping with pleasure as he cursed expletives onto your shining skin. The wetness of your climax dripped down your legs, making him somehow push faster against you, but despite the blinding orgasm he’d thrown you into he couldn’t stop until he’d finished and the overstimulation burned white hot through your entire body. Just as the drive of his cock bordered on painful, Dabi shoved you down onto him, stilling above you and choking on a groan.

Twitching inside your cashmere walls you felt the warm rush of his cum paint your insides as his hips jerked into yours. His heart beat wildly against his chest— you could feel it over yours, his eyes still glazed with pleasure. Dabi was sure to pull out slowly, through the dim glow of your room he could see his cum seep out of your glistening pussy, and he couldn’t help but push his fingers inside you one last time. He might’ve liked pain, but he was an asshole who enjoyed the uncomfortable keen it brought from your trembling lips.

Thin moonlight shone through your window, illuminating the maze of blemishes that razed against his alabaster skin. It might’ve been because of the bleary tears that still half-clung to your eyelashes, but above you, with a winded smile on his torn-up face, he looked half a corpse and half a god.

“Still with me, baby?” He noticed your staring, teasing you by waving his hand in front of your face.

You felt almost high, all drowsy symptoms included, only responding to his question with a feint grin. The wine and the rough sex both made you exhausted in more ways than one, but before you could complain Dabi had shifted his weight off the bed.

“Nooo...” Admittedly you felt a little childish but you couldn’t help but pout as he grabbed his briefs and went to leave your bedroom.

Through the open doorway he’d said, “Just getting a towel, stay put.”

His absence gave you a second to think, staring up at the ceiling with a thousand opposing thoughts bidding for your attention. You just slept with a villain— a murderer. You might side with what he stands for but Dabi was still dangerous. He could’ve killed you tonight, after all. And yet, the only thing you could wonder was what was taking him so long.

Soon he returned wearing his boxers, carrying a heavy towel that he ran under the sink with warm water and took to cleaning the dribbling mess between your thighs. You cooed at his touch, the afterglow of your orgasm cleaned away until Dabi read the alarm clock on your bedside table. 4am.

“You know I can’t stay, right?” He asked bluntly, and you nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show too badly on your face.

“Villain stuff, huh?” You shrugged, curling up into your pillow. Dabi had to continue hunting down the rest of his shed clothes while he mumbled some kind of agreement.

He flashed you a grin while he zipped up his tattered jeans, “Doesn’t mean I won’t break in some other time, doll.” Relief spread through your fingertips once he said that, the weight disappearing from your shoulders.

Your content smile followed him as he threw that thick coat around his shoulders, walking up to your bedside and leaning low. You grinned, leaning forward and trying to catch him for one more kiss, only to be interrupted by the sound of something below you.

Looking down, you saw Dabi slapping a handful of crumpled bills on your end-table, that smug grin from earlier evident on his face. Without bidding you some kind of goodbye kiss he made his way to the open window, sparing you a glance before saying, “Buy some plan B, alright?”

You hadn’t even thought of it, grinning and waving him off as he swung himself onto the fire escape. The sounds of metal clanging against his boots faded away into the distant echoes of the city, and you brought your hand to your throat. Softly you traced the deep blemish his teeth had left behind, your smile turning giddy as you thought about his promise of another visit, but unfortunately the wine was still simmering through you and without Dabi to keep you awake your eyelids started to feel heavy.

Under your plush covers, you continued to cup your hand over the mark he left as you faded off into sleep, the siren that still echoed through the streets acting almost like a lullaby.

#dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #smut #my hero academia #mha #dabi #touya todoroki #ao3 repost #touya x reader #mha headcanons #lov x reader

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weirdkpopgirl · 3 years

Text

Enhypen Reaction: When You Need Comfort

Reaction: When you need comfort

Reaction: When their s/o needs comfort

Genre: Mostly angst...a little fluff

Warnings: uh...some sensitive topics like food, nightmares, and mental health, self-harm. Please be aware of this before you read!

A/N: I wrote this for anyone who is going through a hard time and needs comfort ^-^

❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉

HEESEUNG

This time you sprang up from your bed, sweating bullets. Sobs escaped your mouth, as you remembered the horrifying nightmare you had just woken up from.

“Bad dream?” You suddenly heard Heeseung’s voice murmur in a sleepy voice. You almost forgot that he was staying over tonight.

You grabbed a tissue from your nightstand and blew your nose, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Heeseung sat up and gently stroked your hair in hopes to comfort you, “You’ve been having a lot of nightmares lately. Is everything okay?”

“This week has been so stressful,” You said honestly. “And you know stupid me always overthinks every little thing.”

Heeseung caressed your cheek, “One, you’re not stupid and two, do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, “No it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? Do you need anything?”

You nodded, “Just...just hold me please.”

If Heeseung was more awake he probably would’ve smiled at what you said. He happily brought you to lay back down on the bed and held you as you asked him to. You instantly felt better by his warmth and touch.

“Good night Jagiya,” He whispered.

You snuggled closer so your head could rest in the crook of his neck, before pecking his lips.

“Night, Heedeungie.”

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JAY

You really didn’t want to go to Jay’s dorm at 11 pm, when it was nearly midnight. Especially because he probably had a hectic schedule today and he needed to sleep. But here you were, pathetically standing at his front door wearing only a thin sweatshirt, shorts, and sliders.

“Noona? I didn’t know you were coming,” Niki was the one who answered the door.

You tried to smile at the younger boy, “I’m sorry...but is Jay home?”

Fortunately, Jay had already headed toward the entrance after Niki went to answer the door. His heart rate increased when he recognized your voice. He motioned for Niki to let him know he could handle this. The maknae nodded and carried on with his nightly routine.

“Jagiya, what are you doing here?” He asked without thinking. “I mean not that I mind at all.”

For a few seconds, you looked at Jay who looked exhausted, most likely due to hours of dance practice. You regretted why you even came here in the first place when Jay and his members needed to rest.

“I-I...it’s not a big deal actually,” You lied. “I’m sorry for bothering you guys at this hour, I’ll just leave-”

But Jay took your hand before you could take off, “No you’re not bothering us. Stay.”

When your eyes met his own, he could tell that you need him right now. He knew better than to let you slip away like this when you clearly weren’t okay. He could care less if it was late.

He knew it must’ve been really bad because you never came to him like this. Usually, you kept to yourself. He felt a little guilty for feeling happy that you finally came to him.

“Were your parents fighting again?” He asked after bringing you into the dorm’s living room. He gestured for you to come to sit beside him so he could bear hug you.

“Yeah…” You replied, almost inaudibly. “My d-dad was cursing at my mom and she was saying really hurtful things.”

“And you couldn’t sleep?”

“Yeah pretty much…” You gave a half-suppressed laugh. You always made it seem like a joke when you were talking about your struggles. It was how you coped.

You wiped away tears that fell without you knowing, “I don’t understand why they don’t divorce already. Our family is already a wreck.”

“If I could make everything better with the snap of my fingers, I swear I would (Y/n),” Jay gently moved your head so you could rest on his shoulder.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tighter, “Can I stay here, just for tonight? I promise I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“You can stay here as long as you want Jagiya,” Jay kissed your temple. “Hell, you could even move in with us if you want.”

“Jay, you know your managers will not allow that.”

Jay shrugged, “I’m sure we could work something out. Besides, I need someone to help me cook for these six children.”

He smiled when he saw you laugh at his humor. At least you were feeling a little bit better.

“But seriously, you’re always welcome here,” Jay said. “Don’t you ever feel like you’re bothering me because you’re not, okay?”

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JAKE

“(Y/n)-ah, I made some ramyeon for us!” Jake came over to you with a steaming pot. You weakly smiled when the puppy came to sit down next to you at the table.

“I’m sorry Jake,” You said quietly. “But I’m not hungry.”

Jake set the food in front of you and pouted, “Really? But this is your favorite!”

“That’s why you should eat deliciously for the both of us,” You encouraged, patting his shoulder.

“Jagiya, I know you’ve been skipping meals recently.”

In contrast to his words, the kindness in Jake’s voice didn’t change in the slightest. You could hear the genuine concern in it though.

You’ve never had such a sweet boyfriend like Jake before. He always wanted to take care of you as much as you took care of him. So whenever something felt off about you to him, he immediately wanted to find the cause so he could help.

“I’m just on a diet, Jakey,” You ruffled his hair, trying to downplay the situation. “I’ve been wanting to lose some weight.”

“Diet?! Why?” Jake was so confused. He had never seen you like this before. “You don’t have any weight to lose, Jagi.”

You avoided eye contact, looking down at your hands.

“I just don’t like the way I look okay?” You said in almost a whisper. “I want to be pretty like all those girls in the k-pop groups.”

“But you’re just as pretty as they are, (Y/n)-ah,” Jake said, not understanding how you could think you weren’t. He absolutely adored you.

“Did someone say something? Is that why you’re dieting?”

You quickly shook your head, “No, not at all. I was just looking through Instagram the other day and I got insecure.”

“I understand how you feel. But you’re perfect the way you are,” Jake said. He made sure to be careful with his words because he didn’t want you to feel hurt.

“And you shouldn’t starve yourself,” He added, taking his chopsticks and twirling some noodles around them. “It’s not healthy and I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Jake…” You looked petulant when your boyfriend held up some food to your mouth.

“Please eat. Just one bite, I promise!”

You just couldn’t resist those brown puppy eyes of his, could you? With a defeated sigh, you let Jake feed you. When you did, he kissed you happily on the lips.

“That’s my girl!”

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SUNGHOON

“What’s wrong?” Sunghoon asked when he saw the look on your face. It was a mix between mild panic and disappointment.

Your eyes didn’t leave your phone, “I-I got 0.5 off on my math test.”

“What? That’s pretty good!” Sunghoon smiled, thinking that you were happy. But you weren’t, you really weren’t.

You knew that everyone hated that overachiever type of person who got angry when they got anything lower than an A. But it wasn’t just that for you. The standards you brought onto yourself was anything you did that was less than a 100, was considered a failure in your eyes.

“I-I don’t know what I did wrong. I should’ve studied harder,” You started to ramble to yourself. “Damn it, now my grade is going to lower.”

Sunghoon’s smile was crestfallen when he heard this. He knew how much of a perfectionist you can be but he didn’t think it was to this extent.

“(Y-Y/n)-ah, are you crying?”

You quickly swiped your cheek with the back of your hand, “I-I’m sorry. It’s just I really want to get straight As by the end of this semester.”

“I know you do. You’ve been working so hard,” Sunghoon said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “But you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself Jagi.”

“I know...but I can’t help it,” You said, trying to keep your voice stable. “I just feel like I could do so much better.”

Your boyfriend sighed, wanting to cheer you up. He understood the feeling of not being good enough.

“It’s okay to want to improve,” He told you. “But your grades don’t determine who you are (Y/n)-ah. You can fail a class and I’d still think you’re the smartest person I know.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Sunghoon’s ridiculous statement, “You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“No, I mean it,” Sunghoon insisted. A teasing glint appeared in his eyes. “Should I show you that I mean it?”

“Sunghoon I don’t think-” You tried to say before Sunghoon shut you up with a passion-filled kiss.

He was going to make sure you knew how much he truly admired you, no matter what your expectations of yourself were.

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SUNOO

“I wasn’t yelling at you (Sister’s Name), I was just saying that-” You tried to keep your voice calm. You were flustered enough as it is because you were having an argument with your sister when your boyfriend was here.

“Stop acting like you’re better than me,” your younger sister retorted. “At least I’m not the one who cuts myself!”

Sunoo watched as your face turned red at her sister’s hurtful words. You wanted to scream and tell your sister to shut up and that she didn’t know what she was saying. But you knew that you wouldn’t be making anything better. So you stormed into your bedroom.

Sunoo quickly ran after you, “(Y/n)-ah!”

He made sure to close the door when he entered the bedroom. There you were with your head in your hands, trying not to pull your hair out.

“(Y/n)-ah…” Sunoo slowly walked over to hug you because he knew you needed one.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, “I-I can’t believe...I can’t believe she said that to my face. Sh-she has no idea how crappy I feel.”

“I know,” Sunoo spoke softly, gently patting your back. “Don’t listen to what she said about you.”

You pulled away but still held his hand, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s okay,” Sunoo reassured you. “I’m right here by your side. So you can just let it all out alright?”

You giggled when he peppered your face with kisses. He always did that whenever you were feeling down.

“Thank you, Sunoo-yah.”

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JUNGWON

It was late in the evening and you two were the only ones still awake at the dorm. You had come over earlier to bring them food and by the time everyone finished eating, it was too dark out. So Jungwon insisted that you stay the night.

That’s what brought you two sitting together on the sofa and just talking. One of Jungwon’s favorite things to do with you was to cuddle and talk for hours. You always listened to whatever was on his mind, whether it was good or bad.

But tonight was different because Jungwon wanted to listen to you talk. He didn’t want you to think that he didn’t care about your life and how you were doing. So you just told him about school and how things were going at home. Somehow the topic traveled to your mental health which was something you hated talking about with others.

“It’s okay, Jagi,” Jungwon reassured you. “You can talk to me, I promise not to judge.”

You let out a shaky sigh, “To be honest I haven’t been doing that great.”

Jungwon sat up straighter so he could listen to what you had to say. Just by your first sentence, he could tell that you’ve been holding in a lot of feelings.

“I just hate myself so much,” You confessed quietly. “And I know, I know there’s something wrong with me.

Even though he wanted to say something, he stayed silent and placed his hand on top of yours.

“But I’m afraid to get help because my-my mom has anxiety and my sister has her own problems and I-I know it’s hard for my dad to handle,” You added, feeling tears build up.

You mentally cursed yourself, you didn’t want to cry in front of Jungwon but your heart wasn’t listening to you. You couldn’t hold it in, no matter how hard you tried. Jungwon held your hand tighter when the first tears fell.

“I don’t want...I don’t want to be a burden to them and I don’t want them to see me as weak. So I decided that when I’m older I can find out what’s wrong with me. But...but sometimes I’m afraid that the longer I wait...the longer I wait...I’m scared that something bad will happen.”

At this point, any walls you had built to protect yourself were taken down. You usually never let yourself be vulnerable in front of someone. You don’t know why you were being so emotional right now. Maybe...maybe it was because you had bottled it all for so long and everything has piled up until now.

Nonetheless, Jungwon didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. He felt upset with himself because he didn’t know you were feeling like this and he wished he had known sooner.

You harshly wiped your tears away and sniffed, “I don’t even care anymore, Jungwon-ah. I’m fine and I’m...I’m sorry for telling you all this.”

“Why are you sorry?” He frowned. “I’m your boyfriend, so you should tell me these things. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t.”

Jungwon held you tighter and kissed your forehead, “If you ever want to get help, I’m right here for you. And if you don’t then just come to me whenever you need to.”

You listened quietly to Jungwon’s comforting words and let the warmth of his hug envelop you. For the first time, you didn’t regret spilling out your heart to someone. Then just thinking about Jungwon made you realize that-

“You’re not alone Jagiya. I may not understand everything you’re going through but I love you a lot and I don’t want you to feel like a burden anymore, because you’re not.”

“You love me, Jungwon?”

Jungwon looked into your eyes for a moment before he leaned down to kiss you tenderly.

“More than you and I could ever imagine.”

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NIKI

Niki didn’t know what to think when he found you sitting on the floor, hopelessly crying in the dance practice room. You had been here since last night, trying to perfect this one choreography. But you kept making the same mistake no matter how hard you practiced. At this point, you were losing confidence and breaking down.

Niki kneeled in front of you, “(Y/n)-ah?”

“I keep screwing up this one part in the dance Niki,” You cried out in frustration.

Niki gently reached his hand to wipe your tears, “Don’t cry, (Y/n)-ah. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not okay,” You said in denial. “If I don’t get this dance right, I won’t be able to debut. And-and then I’ll let my members down, my managers, and you.”

“(Y/n)-ah, you’re going to debut. I know you are,” Niki tried to encourage you. “Everyone has those off days, even me.”

You had stopped crying by now, which left Niki feeling relieved. Still, he made sure to hug you.

“Let’s just take a break,” He said. “I promise to help you with the choreography later, okay?”

He smiled when you nodded and cutely sniffed like a bunny rabbit. He wasn’t used to taking care of others, but he learned a lot from watching his hyungs. So just like his hyungs, he was going to make sure that you didn’t overwork yourself.

❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉

#enhypen writers #enhypen fanfic #enhypen reactions #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #niki #ot7 #comfort #angst

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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years

Text

Quantum Entanglement

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Words: 6.4k (oops)

Rating: 18+ (get outta here ya children)

Summary: Steve Rogers decides to disappear, take some time for himself in the solitude of a small town where he meets you.

Warnings: p in v. oral fem receiving. size kink (reader is much smaller than Steve in more ways than one). soft (very very soft) fem dom.

AN: This is stupid soft. Just simping all over the gd place. I'm so sorry but my baby Steve deserves nothing but the purest, sweetest form of love and that's what he's getting, though I imagine he likes to be ordered around. Took me way too long to feel good about this.

---

There had been the snap. And then the resurrection. Steve had lost everyone he loved and then had most of them returned, and it felt good to go back to normal, in some ways. In other ways, it was stifling.

As the world reeled and tried to figure out how to "be normal" in a time that was anything but, normalcy felt forced, rushed, exaggerated. He wanted to be in this world, of course. The 1940s were no longer his home, and Steve had everything he wanted here. But he didn't feel complete. A piece was always missing, something from a past life, that he couldn't quite name but knew he had to find.

So he disappeared. Went undercover as some might call it. Bucky knew, of course, and Sam on some level. But to the rest of the world, he had slipped quietly back into the past to live the rest of his life. In reality, he'd slipped into Herrington, Massachusetts, a small coastal town where he was invisible to the world.

He'd found a little house, a cottage on the beach, and settled in completely. He didn't need a job, the government was more than willing to pay him a severance check of some sort, but he took one anyway, stocking the local grocery store and delivering groceries to the elderly when they ordered. It was just antiquated enough to remind him of a faraway time, of the past, but didn't force him to give up his wifi and color television. That was something he'd come to love.

And that was where he met you. You, the petite spitfire with a bone to pick with the entire world. Fierce, loyal, and slightly terrifying when double-crossed. The first time he met you, you had come out of your great-aunt's house shaking a fist over the groceries.

"I told Mr. Pierce," you were yelling, "not to skimp me on the meat." Mr. Pierce was the grocery store owner. And the meat in question was a roast, for what purpose, Steve wasn't sure, but one that apparently did not satisfy your desires.

You hadn't been the one to answer the door, that was your great-aunt Agnes, a kind, leather-faced woman who liked to tip Steve a healthy amount for "carrying all those heavy groceries for a silly old lady like me."

"It's no problem ma'am," he'd replied and stepped back toward his motorcycle, recently decked out with a basket on the back to transport deliveries. Then you'd chased him down the road until he noticed you and stopped, shouting all the way.

"When you see him," you said, your finger wagging in his face, puffing and out of breath from your yelling and running, "tell the bastard that's the last time he gets away with making me pay for his shitty cuts of meat."

Steve didn't really know what to say, but then your face softened, your voice calmed, and you took a deep breath. Maybe the panicked look on his face had made you have a change of heart. "I apologize for yelling at you, I know you're just the messenger. But that slimy son-of-a-bitch is going to get what's coming for him someday."

"I'll let him know," Steve replied with half a smile on his face.

"You aren't from around here are you?" you had asked, a sudden look of curiosity in your bright eyes.

Steve nodded. "Just moved here."

"Look, I'm really sorry." You stuck out your hand and introduced yourself, and Steve had found that hand to be surprisingly supple and calloused for its tiny size. "Let me make it up to you. Aunt Agnes seems to like you. We're having a potluck tonight, her place. Why don't you come by and meet the neighbors? I'm sure they'd love a new face, especially one as handsome and friendly as yours. Maybe make some friends, even."

You were being surprisingly friendly and sincere, and Steve had no choice but to accept the invitation.

So that's how he ended up in an old lady's backyard, handing off a bowl of his mother's jello salad (it was a potluck after all), and accepting a beer from a man who looked similar enough to be your brother (a cousin, it turned out). You didn't even notice his arrival, flying about, getting everything set up, taking part in the appropriate amount of small talk. Earlier, when you'd chased Steve down the road, your hair had been flung all about your head, wisps of it sticking out from all directions and looking positively a mess. You'd been wearing jeans with mud on the knees and a t-shirt that had more holes than necessary for your arms and head. Now, your hair was pinned back and tamed and you floated about in a soft blue sundress, revealing a delicate plane of skin across your shoulders and tan arms and legs.

The calloused hands and muddy jeans made sense now as well. The backyard of Aunt Agnes' house was primarily a garden, not only beautiful rose bushes and creeping wisteria but rows and rows of fruits and vegetables, cucumbers, tomatoes, watermelon, strawberries. The work was obviously the product of a talented gardener.

Aunt Agnes was the one to welcome him in, having noticed Steve before you did and taking his arm. She began to talk, of you and the neighborhood and her many, many family members. She introduced them one by one, though most of the names he immediately forgot. But it was a blessing to not be recognized and he relished the feeling. Sure, he'd grown out his beard and his hair was a bit longer than the standard military high and tight, and he wore a flannel with the sleeves rolled up instead of red, white, and blue spangles, but it still amazed him that he could pass through the world like this.

Eventually, the conversations became too much, and Steve excused himself to the kitchen to find a drink while he waited for the food to be ready. Really he just wanted some silence, a relief from society. But you'd beat him there, and, ever the busy bee, were scrambling to fill a cooler with more ice.

"Steve!" you exclaimed when you saw him, pleasant surprise plastered across your face. "I'm so glad you came."

You reached out and gave him a hug that took Steve so much by surprise he almost forgot to return it. It was shockingly warm, your arms around his neck, and though he had to stoop down to your level, he wrapped his arms around your waist anyways.

"I hope they didn't overwhelm you out there. My family can be a lot."

"No, not at all. Just needed some quiet. I'll let you get back to work."

"I could actually use your help if you don't mind."

You directed him into the front room toward a stack of boxes, cases of drinks he assumed. When Steve returned to the kitchen, all four boxes piled in his arms, you nearly dropped the glasses in your hands in shock. You recovered quickly, trying to remain polite despite your poorly hidden astonishment, but Steve could already tell you were trying to compute how he had managed to carry over a hundred pounds of drinks in one go.

"You can, um, put them on the counter I guess," you managed to stutter out. Your sudden flustered state was amusing, and Steve noticed he liked the way you seemed almost embarrassed, cheeks flushed pink, though he had no idea why you should feel that way.

But then you picked back up with your normal bubbly chatter, and Steve found himself lingering longer and longer in the kitchen with you until he realized neither of you were doing anything but talking, the work abandoned in lieu of discussions about the town, your stall at the farmers market, and eventually, very naturally, the passing of your parents. The slip into deep conversation was easy, surprisingly easy, easier than it had ever been with anyone else, even though Steve felt himself having to lie a bit about his past. Sure, he could admit to being from Brooklyn and having no family and his stint in the military, but that was about the extent of it. He found himself wanting to tell you more but refraining.

When your cousin called that food was ready from the backyard, the jolt back to reality was abrupt and almost unwelcome, until you smiled and allowed him to put a hand on your back, pulling Steve out to enjoy some food.

As night fell, lights twinkled on in the backyard, and the summer heat reduced to a light thrum as the breeze from the ocean swept through the town. Fireflies glowed in the darkness of the low trees behind the house and you seemed to glow as well, good food and friendly conversation lighting your face up with joy. You caught Steve's eye several times during the night, noticing him watching you from across the garden, but he didn't care. He liked that his attention made you smile.

Finally, the party began to dwindle, as parents with young kids trickled out, followed by the older folks, heading off to bed. Soon, even Aunt Agnes turned in and only the cousins close to you in age remained. They pulled out the stronger bottles of alcohol, sitting in plastic chairs and passing shots around the barbeque that still glowed hot with coals. Steve accepted every pass of vodka that came his way, despite knowing it wouldn't get him even remotely drunk. But the camaraderie of the moment helped ease a bit of that gaping hole in his soul so he clung to it as best he could. And you were sitting next to him, insisting he take a sip, and again he couldn't turn you down.

"And then Jack nearly sunk the boat in the bay," you were saying, telling the story of one of your cousin's finer moments. "Your dad almost killed us."

"Oh you want to bring that up?" he teased. "How about the time you snuck out and Aunt Agnes caught you making out with Michael on the beach."

You blushed bright red at the reminder but protested that was years ago. Then another cousin brought up his own late-night escapades and you devolved into a fit of giggles, leaning so far out of your chair that Steve had to catch you before you slipped right to the ground. Your hand gripped his to recover but, to his surprise, you never removed it, even as you righted yourself in your seat. Your hand just remained in his, your small fingers wrapped in his large ones, as you turned to pester him into telling a story.

"What about you Steve? Tell us an embarrassing story."

He looked around at the group and they leaned in expectantly, curious to know more about the stranger who was quickly becoming a friend. Steve didn't know what to say, most of his stories involving things he wasn't yet ready to reveal about himself. So he picked one from long ago.

"I once picked a fight with a guy at a bar. He was a bit of a Nazi. Got my ass kicked. Fortunately, I had a friend to back me up or he definitely would have killed me."

Everyone looked shocked. "But you're so strong," someone spoke up. "Look at you. How could anyone beat you in a fight?"

Steve shrugged, not wanting to admit to it being a pre-serum story. "Guess I'm a bit of a pacifist."

He turned to you to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were wide, sparkling with mischief and curiosity and a hint of disbelief. For a moment Steve thought you had figured it out, figured out who he was, but then you started giggling again and the only thing keeping you in your seat was his hand in yours.

"That's not embarrassing Steve, that's just the most fucking noble thing I've ever heard. Making us all look bad."

Your teasing words made his heart flutter in his chest and he felt like he could get used to this crowd.

Eventually, the coals of the barbeque started to wink out, and the cousins excused themselves for the night, heading home on foot to the various houses they had come from. It seemed no one lived too far apart in this town. Suddenly, the backyard was quiet.

"Can I give you a hand cleaning up?" Steve asked, not wanting to leave you with the job that looked a bit overwhelming to him.

You looked around and shrugged, a little tipsy but fully aware that it was a big mess. "I'll probably just take care of it in the morning. Can you just help me get the dishes inside?"

Steve obediently gathered up plates and cups, filling the dishwasher in several trips. Finally, the last were inside and you stood in the kitchen filling the sink to wash the pots and pans while Steve tried awkwardly to find a way to say goodbye.

"Um, thank you," he said at last, "for welcoming me into your community. It means a lot. I'll, uh, see you later I guess. Have a good night."

You stopped your scrubbing to look up at him, bubbles up to your elbows, your face flushed from the warm night air and the alcohol.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

You paused, hesitant, eyes searching his face for confirmation of a mutual feeling. "Do you ever feel like you were meant to meet someone? For a reason?"

The question hit him like a ton of bricks, and he realized that this night had made him feel exactly that way, that somehow he was meant to end up here and meet you, of all people. Why else had there been an instant connection unless this was just the way you were with everyone?

But your question made him think otherwise. You had to be special. Steve, in that moment, could do nothing but nod in affirmation. And then, like you had both had the same thought at the same moment, you were meeting him halfway, rising on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, and kissing him. Really, truly, kissing him.

It was like that missing piece had found itself. You slotted your soul into his and Steve was pressing you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you, and lifting you so he didn't have to bend down to reach you. Your wet hands tangled into his slightly too long hair, pulling him impossibly closer, tasting one another's tongues.

And that was the start of it, of late-night motorcycle rides down the causeway, of Saturdays spent on the beach that tapered into drinks with friends, of dinners filled with your chatter and smiles and laughter, and Steve couldn't believe how lucky he was. He was not used to this feeling, of building friendship and companionship and perhaps even love. And he certainly wasn't used to the intense desire to reach out and pinch your ass every time you showed up at his house wearing those gardening jeans, high-waisted and tight and so goddamn cute.

But he never did, was never sure how you'd react. You kissed him, a lot in fact, every morning that he came over and every night that he dropped you off at home. And you never shied away from telling him how handsome he was, how much you liked his hands and his arms and his short beard, how sweet he was and kind and soft and gentle. So many words, words that made his head spin and his world wobble and sway. But it never came to be more than that, never late at night when he was thinking of you most. And oh lord, did he think about you, how your small frame might fit against his in bed while you spooned and slept, or how tight you'd be if he fucked you until the sun rose. He didn't particularly like sleeping in bed, it was too soft for his taste and he tended to take the couch or even the floor most nights, but he would sleep in bed for you if you would just tell him that was what you wanted.

It was like you were waiting for the right moment. And apparently, that moment was July 4th, during the annual celebration. Steve had whispered to you that it was consequently also his birthday, and had begged you to keep that a secret, but it seemed you had simply forgotten the fact entirely. The day passed without mention that Steve was turning 39 (105 if he'd been really counting) and you kissed him as the fireworks exploded over the ocean, sitting in the sand, hands tangled together. He thought the two of you would sit through the show, but then you were standing and pulling him to his feet as well and slipping away as everyone else's faces were turned to the sky.

At your house, you pulled a small cake from the fridge, just big enough to split between two people, and lit a couple of candles as you sat next to him at the kitchen table. Of course, you hadn't forgotten.

"Make a wish," you said with a happy smile. So he did, hoping this summer would never end. "What did you wish for?"

"Can't tell you, otherwise it won't come true," he replied. But then you pouted and he lost all resolve. "How about I show you instead?"

The look on your face said it all, shock mixed with intrigue and the mischief he had noticed that first night almost a week ago. So he reached down and tugged your chair closer, forcing you to face him with your knees between his. And then he leaned over and kissed you, taking your small cheeks in his large palms, putting all the power of his suppressed feelings behind it. He hoped you understood that he wanted more than to just kiss you, he wanted to occupy space inside you, fill you, complete you. Steve could feel your smile against his lips.

You pulled away. "Did you wish that I was dessert instead of the cake?

"I might have. Should we make my wish come true?"

Again you smiled, bright and guiding like a lighthouse torch, and something in your demeanor changed. Instantly, you were relenting to his touch, letting him pull you further into his lap, straddling his waist and settling into him like that was where you were meant to be. The quiet house, probably as old as him in this New England town, creaked in the silence of the night, only occasionally disturbed by the bang of a firework. But it all faded away with you in his arms.

You fit perfectly, just as Steve had hoped.

"You gonna be gentle with me, big man?" you whispered, that same brilliant smile on your face, wiggling as close to him as possible, the fingers of one hand tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck, the others tracing down the point of his sharp nose and pressing against his soft lips. "You gonna fuck me good? Be a good boy?"

Oh, Christ. Steve nearly lost his mind with your hips so tight against his, lost it at your words that made his heart race and color rise to his cheeks. He could be good. Really damn good. You seemed to know something about him that Steve didn't even know about himself, of how much he liked your praise, your commanding tone. If there was anything he was good at, it was taking orders.

"You just keep telling me what to do and I'm all yours," he mumbled against your fingers, the thump of his heart beating in time with yours somewhere deep in your chest, echoes of one another in the silence of the house. Your hand came to grip his chin, pushing another kiss against his mouth, a kiss with lips parted in a sigh, the mingled palate of you and him, like a glass of wine on the beach and chocolate melted on the tongue, sweeping over taste buds and breathed into starved lungs.

"Mm, you taste so good. Like you were created just for me, don't you think?" you asked.

"Built from the best material, just for you." Built to love you, he wanted to say. Steve shut up instead.

You hummed with pleasure and the hand on his chin gripped a little harder, a little more suggestively. He opened his mouth obediently as you slipped your thumb between his lips, and he let you press it against the soft muscle of his tongue. You wanted him to taste you, so he did, his teeth biting gently down on the pad of your finger, another pleasant hum running down your body and straight to his groin.

He waited for your instruction.

"Undress me."

He complied, obediently. Steve's large hands hiked your sundress up around your waist, revealing the softness of your hips. His fingers smoothed up the length of your thighs, kneading at the flesh of your ass that he had so longed to touch. Your reaction was music to his ears, a soft moan leaving your lips and breathed against his, and Steve closed his eyes, arousal spreading through his body at the thought that he was making you react this way. His length hardened, tight in his pants, pressed against the thin layer of fabric that covered the heat of your core. The thought that he might not fit flickered through his mind but it dissipated at the feeling of your fingers pressing into the rough stubble of his jawline.

Steve's hands continued to travel further up your body, taking time to release the zipper of your dress down the length of your spine, and you answered his quiet, "can I?" by pulling slightly away and lifting your arms over your head. The dress landed somewhere in the kitchen and Steve dragged you close again, arms wrapped around your back to encompass you completely, his lips finding purchase against the skin of your neck.

"Look at you, so perfect," Steve mumbled, face pressed into your hair. If he had looked up he would have seen you blush, but he was too preoccupied letting his senses discover every piece of you he could touch, smell, or taste. He wanted to envelop you, inch by inch, roaming and discovering and satiating his curiosity, but you dragged his attention back to your face.

"Hey, eyes up here," you said, pulling his face toward yours and locking gazes. The intensity of your eye contact was stunning, but there was something else behind those eyes, something other than intense attraction and unsatisfied arousal. Was it doubt? Insecurity? The reason why you kissed him for so many nights and never asked for more? You were searching for something, and it came in the form of a question. "You won't leave me after this, right?"

There it was, the bit of insecurity, a fear of loss, of transience, of lacking control. Someone had hurt you before. Maybe that's why you approached everything in life with such ferocity and sincerity. But Steve would never hurt you like that, never let you feel that way again. He hoped you could see it in his eyes the way he felt about you, but words would be more reassurance. "I'm yours tonight. And tomorrow. And the day and week and month and year after that, if you'll have me that long. Whatever it is you need, I'll give it to you."

You blinked and then smiled and pressed another quick kiss to his lips before murmuring, "touch me" against them. So he did, trailing his hands over every sliver of skin before him. He felt the goosebumps rising in their wake, the downy hair on your legs and arms, the heat of your core against him, grinding almost imperceptibly to find some kind of friction, any friction. He wanted to touch you so desperately, but he got the sense that you needed to take the lead, that it would give the control you felt you lacked. So he slid a hand down the plane of your stomach and stopped just shy of dipping into your panties, waiting for your word. But you were no longer interested in playing games. Your hand found his and pulled him lower, using his fingers to press into the seem of your cunt, and he found you slick and warm with desire.

You urged him forward. "Rub my clit, baby. Slowly. Gently."

Slowly and gently. That he could do. His fingers crept absentmindedly closer to the swollen bundle of nerves and when he landed there, touch soft and circling, you jerked against him, your whole body moving with the force of anticipation and a cry leaving your lips. And though it seemed to burn, seemed to be torture for yourself, you demanded he do it again. Your forehead leaned against his, eyes shut tight, and Steve watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he flicked and circled again and again and again.

"Yes, baby. Perfect. So good. So. Fucking. Good."

Every bit of you was soft, from your neck where he placed his kisses to the curled hair hiding the swollen bud of your clit where his fingers played gently and rhythmically. Even the orgasm that gushed from your smooth cunt and stuttered from your lips was soft. You came with a choked cry as your hand pulled him closer by the back of his head, your tits pressed to his chest. Steve looked up to watch you devolve into pleasure, eyes squeezed tightly shut, your hair messy and swirling about your face, the straps of your bra slipping from your shoulder.

"Bed. Now. Right now," you demanded before you even had a chance to come down from your high. He would have been just as happy to have you in the kitchen, just like that, but Steve picked you up, with you latched to his chest like a koala, and carried you upstairs. You felt feather-light in his arms, easily tossed onto the mattress, your hands reaching out to pull his white t-shirt overhead and grab at the plane of his chest. Even as Steve kissed you again you couldn't stop tracing your fingertips over the lines of his torso, the ridges of his abs, the v-line that led tantalizingly toward the waistband of his pants. He felt his cock twitch and strain against the fabric of his boxers, the rough cotton not enough to stimulate him but enough to make him ache for your pussy. Your fluttering hands were not helping and Steve pictured your thin fingers wrapping around his length.

"Look at you," you said. "You're fucking perfect." It was Steve's turn to blush.

Steve wasn't...inexperienced. But it had been a while, to say the least, since he'd had the time or energy or capacity to even feel attracted to anyone. And even longer, perhaps never, since he felt the way he felt about you, like a bee to a flower, drunk on sweet nectar and high on honey. That was you, the delicate flower, so small and tender beneath him, yet as stunning and resonating and thunderous as the fireworks bursting somewhere overhead.

Fighting to survive was all Steve had known for so long, standing up to the bully and helping the fallen to their feet, that it was a relief to not have to be that man for you. You didn't require protection or help or anything from him at all, and yet you welcomed his presence endlessly. Steve realized he was not a need for you, but a want, and for the first time he felt valued for something real, something that wasn't just his brute strength, but something almost bordering on love. This he understood as he stared at your sweet face, caging you beneath him in bed.

"Earth to Steve," you said softly as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his pelvis down toward yours and dragging a deep groan from his lungs. He hadn't noticed he'd stopped kissing you and was getting lost in drinking you in amidst his reverie until your small hand pressed to the back of his neck and gently guided him back to your lips. But you stopped just shy, your eyebrows knitted in concern, taking his leisurely manner for uncertainty. "We can stop if you want."

"No, definitely not."

"Good. Then stop staring and kiss me."

"Where?" he teased.

"Everywhere, big man."

Everywhere was doable. So he started at your lips with one so big and breathless it rivaled Mount Everest. For a moment he let himself forget about everything except how long he could go without oxygen against your lips. But there remained more of you to taste.

Steve's lips connected with your chin and slid down your jawline, taking time to kiss the pulse of your neck and the dip of your clavicle. The fan of his breath tickled across your skin and you giggled, the purest sound of joy bubbling from your lips at his touch. More of that he wanted. So he continued down to the valley between your breasts, full and round despite your stature, removing your bra as he did so, nibbling lightly at the peaks of your chest before replacing his teeth with his pinching fingers and moving lower again. Lower toward the edge of your ribs, arched upward to meet the movement of his mouth, toward the slope of your hips, his sharp nose following each kiss as your underwear joined your bra into the abyss.

Your thighs he kissed, top to bottom, left and right, but it was your ass he couldn't get enough of, filling his grip with handfuls of your flesh, using it to pull you toward the edge of the bed where he kneeled, lifting your hips toward his face, your legs slung one over each shoulder. Steve sunk his tongue into your folds without warning and you gasped, your thighs suddenly squeezing tight around his head.

"Yes, right there," you hissed between ragged breaths.

He responded by burying deeper, gripping you harder, and moaning with delight at your overwhelming taste and scent bombarding his senses. You squirmed but didn't pull away as Steve's hands worked their way back up your stomach to cup the tissue of your breasts, the width of his palms capturing the flesh in one big handful. Your hands covered his, holding them there, forcing him to press you into the bed while his mouth left you twitching and bucking beneath his touch.

And in spite of the urgency with which Steve wished to devour you, he continued on leisurely, doing his best to build you up slowly and gently pick you apart bit by bit the way you had asked him to do it before. Your body betrayed its delight, evidenced enough by the way your legs hooked around him and held him down, but you praised him anyways, rapture falling from your lips between sporadic moans of pleasure.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so good, oh God yes, baby, you're doing so good, taste me like that," you cried, and the words spurred him onward, hurried his movements just slightly, his tongue circling your clit, fingers circling your areolas. He would do whatever you asked, jump off a cliff, take a bullet to the chest, drown himself in a river, if only to please you. But you would never ask anything of him that he couldn't give, and Steve knew the moment you asked for his heart it would be his heart you'd receive. And with that intent in his mind, he made you come undone with a silent cry.

Eventually, the trembling ceased, even as he continued to drink your release with the ministrations of his tongue.

"Oh fuck, you like the way I taste baby?" you asked. His affirmation came out muffled and sloppy between your legs. Even you were breathless, barely getting out the words, but you pushed him nonetheless. "I wanna hear you say it, Steve. You like eating me out? Like drinking my juices?"

"Fuck, yes, you taste like goddamn heaven, darling."

"Kiss me, Steve."

"Yes, ma'am."

He complied without a second thought, crawling back up your body to lean over you, giving you a taste of the heaven he had just dipped into. When your fingers found his belt, he helped you remove the rest of his clothes. And then your hands were roving down his chest again, searching blindly until they found what they were looking for. Steve groaned at your touch on his swollen cock.

You gasped. "Oh, God."

Before Steve could respond you pushed him over onto his back and straddled his thighs, eyeing the length on display before you, fingers around it as if testing the girth and finding them unable to wrap all the way around.

"Oh God," you repeated. A short laugh bubbled up from your throat, the controlling front you'd managed to maintain this whole time slipping from your tone.

"Something wrong?" he asked, feeling slightly inadequate under your scrutiny. Steve sat up to meet your eyes, hands finding their place on your hips.

You gazed at him, eyes wide and glassy. "You're gonna split me in half with that thing."

"We don't have to. Not if you aren't comfortable."

"Oh baby, I'm gonna get real comfortable sitting on your cock." Your sultry grin was back and you rose up on your knees to look down at him. Your other hand swiped between your legs, two fingers gathering the warm, wet juices of your orgasm, before joining the first around his cock. You pumped, rolling a drop of precum off the tip with your thumb and rubbing it down his length, mixing the release of your pleasure with his. Steve barely held back from bucking his hips into your hand. He would save that for your pussy.

"I want you to fill me," you whispered. "I wanna be so fucking full. Just go slowly, okay?"

"Slowly. I got you, baby girl. You can take me. Let me fill you."

Steve lifted your hips and guided you forward, aligning your entrance with his length. You moved at a crawling pace, letting gravity sink your pussy around him, pausing every inch to adjust to his intrusion. His biceps stung with the grip of your fingernails in his skin, but it was a welcome distraction from the rush of pleasure threatening to tip him over the edge prematurely. Agonizingly you dipped further, a cry falling from your lips, until you were fully seated, the tip of him pressed into the cavity behind your cervix. You were warm, so, so warm, and soft and tight and you fit perfectly, just like he knew you would.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so big."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, wiping away a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

"No, fuck, no, you feel so good. I just--I can't move."

"I got you, darling," Steve whispered, his face falling to your chest and burying it in the soft flesh of your tits. And then he wrapped his arms around your waist and did all the moving for you, lifting you up and sinking you down again, just fast enough to make you gasp for air and whine his name. With every thrust, you cried out in pleasure.

"Don't stop, Steve, please, baby, don't stop."

The fingers of one hand tugged at his hair dampened by sweat, nails scratching lightly across his scalp, as the other fell between your legs. You pressed your fingers around your clit and along your entrance, feeling where Steve's thick cock was pushing in and out of your tight pussy, feeling how big he was, how much he filled you. The meandering touch of your fingers almost sent him straight over the edge.

But it was the slick warmth of your cunt that was too much, and Steve found himself resting his forehead more and more heavily against your chest, willing himself to give you everything you wanted before he even thought about himself. The satin scent of your skin, like talcum and rose and his cologne, intoxicated him with every breath, and he sucked and nibbled on one breast and then the other, mindlessly attending to the most sensitive parts of you. A drop of sweat rolled down your sternum and Steve chased it with his tongue, licking a warm stripe up the center of your chest.

"Tell me what you need, darling."

"Fuck, that's perfect," you whined. "You fuck me so good, baby. Don't stop. Gonna make me come--make me come so hard."

Your fingers pressed against your clit once more and then you were clenching around him, your already tight pussy settling into a pulsing vice grip, your body shaking against his while he kissed the sweat from your collar bones. Steve felt you pumping the life out of him, riding out your orgasm and dragging him closer to his. The hand that had been on your clit moved to cup the weight of his balls, pinching and massaging as they pulled in heavy with the need for release.

"Where do you want me, darling, you gotta tell me."

You practically ordered him to come inside you, told him you wanted to feel him sticky between your thighs all night and it was suddenly Steve's turn to come undone, his hot seed pumping deep inside you, his twitching member finally finding release. He moaned your name against your lips, pulling you into a final searing kiss.

When, after a good twenty minutes of not moving from that position, of breathing heavy and kissing softly, you finally pulled away to lean down and lick his cock clean, the sticky mingling of you and him on your tongue, and he had to fight the urge to get hard again. And when you kissed him again, he tasted that mingling, two souls becoming one, as they were meant to be.

He slept next to you for the first time that night, your small frame encased in his, even though there was no need to share body heat in the dead of summer. But he actually slept, no dreams, no nightmares, no waking up in the middle of the night. Just deep, heavy sleep, your head tucked beneath his chin, back to his bare chest, his hands holding your breasts, and your hands holding his. Tangled together. Souls as one.

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #avengers smut #captain america smut #steve rogers smut #simping for steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction

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dustofbrokenheart · 3 years

Text

The Lost Boys: Call 911

GIF by lostinsantacarla

Paul x Reader

Word Count: 2,550

Summary: Reader is out on patrol as part of the Santa Carla PD when they respond to a call out at the wharf.

Amid the riotous flare of fireworks and fire crackers, it was difficult to make out the quickly approaching cop car but Marko prided himself on being observative.

Paul, Paulie, P-Man, his forever partner on the other hand…

Grabbing Paul by the front of his tank, he pulled the other vampire down to hiss in his ear. “We got company. We bail on my signal, got it?”

The honey blonde nodded distractedly, mesmerized by the bright bursts of colors overhead. The reds and blues and whites and pinks mixed with the curtain of smoke, creating a kaleidoscope against the inky night sky.

He only heard part of what Marko was gripping about—something about a signal—but it wasn’t his fault he was having so much fun.

Another of their fireworks went off from behind Max’s Video, making him laugh even harder when some empty pallets became collateral. They splintered into pieces, the crunching sound of the wood masked by the other explosions.

Nothing said summer time fun like launching some Big Boys at the video store. It was a rockin’ light show and piss-off-Max scheme all wrapped in one. The crochety, old douche in question would no doubt have some choice words for them later but Paul wasn’t thinking about that; the only thing on his mind was blowing shit up.

In fact, he was so into it that he wasn’t prepared for the sharp punch to his ribs. He flew into the wall as Marko ran past, scampering to get airborne. “Go, go, go!”

The back door to the store opened with such force that it banged into the wall with a loud crack. Paul could sympathize. Two officers came through and before he could even think to pick himself up and run, they were on him.

The rounder of the two sat on his back, putting all his pounds into pinning Paul down. Normally, he would’ve thrown him off and maybe, probably, killed him, no sweat.

But.

There were too many people around that could catch him in the act. There’s no way Max would step in and not even Paul was stupid enough to slaughter that many people in plain sight.

Marko, he whined through the bond. A little help, bud? I’m kinda stuck.

All he got back was a manic cackle.

Paul squawked in outrage, knowing that the other would not be lending an assist. That traitor was all too content to sit back and laugh at him.

Whatever.

Screw him then.

It’s not like Paul had never been hauled in before anyhow.

“You know,” he grunted to the cop on his back, “It’s a good thing you’re not fat or anything, otherwise this would be more difficult.”

The knee dug into his back even harder and his head was pulled back by his hair. It didn’t hurt that much but still! He worked for hours to make his hair look good!

“Police brutality! I have rights, you know!” he yelled. The cop was starting to get on his nerves.

His face was shoved back into the ground and he ate gravel, sputtering to get the pebbles and grime out of his mouth with mixed success. The taste lingered and the only way to get rid of it would be to wash it down with something—

Hmm. He hadn’t planned on feeding that night but some pig blood would take care of it nicely.

He attempted to at least think of an isolated spot to rip out his throat without getting caught. Maybe in the cop car. Maybe he could drag him to the bushes outside of the station.

Oh! If the guy stopped for doughnuts, he could steal the car—doughnuts sounded good though. A nice chocolate glaze with sprinkles or something filled with strawberry jelly! The corner store on the boulevard had the best selection this time of night. He needed more hairspray, too, as long as he was at it, a magazine or three—he shook his head.

Come on, self, get it together!

“I’m going to find the one that ran. Officer Y/LN, you take this idiot back to the car and sit tight until I get back.”

Roughly, he was hauled to his feet and he had been so focused on the tub of lard that had him on the ground that he forgot two cops had burst through the door.

He planted his feet and refused to be moved as he glanced at the second one. It was like pushing at a stone wall, the other at his back unable to shove him into motion.

Immediately, Paul realized his mistake.

Why was he so occupied with that other asshole when he could’ve been looking at you, been pressed up against you the entire time?

The saying was that everyone loved a person in uniform and Paul was no exception. You made the normally dull standard navy uniform look good, the short sleeves showing off your arms and the pants managed to cup your ass in the tastiest way.

He’d cup your ass even better, if you gave him the chance.

Even the serious, disapproving scowl on your face was hot. What he wouldn’t do to get you to make that face with you on top of him, manhandling him any which way you wanted.

Screw his little feeding plan. He was willing to spare your partner in exchange for getting to know you better.

A big happy smile stretching across his face, he finally moved, dragging your partner rather than being forced forward.

“Hey, sexy,” he said with his signature wink, the one that always got him what he wanted with people. “Name’s Paul.”

To his disappointment, you didn’t respond and merely took control of his handcuffed hands as they were passed over.

As you lead him back through the video store, he pulled his arms to the left, acting like he was trying to resist. Just like he expected, you corrected him with a strong, tight grip that sent a rush down his spine.

“Ouch, babe, not so rough,” he purred. “I’m very sensitive.”

He glanced back quick to see your reaction and his bottom lip pushed out in a pout. You still wore a straight face that gave nothing away. No clenched jaw, no embarrassed tightening of your eyes. Definitely no hint of an amused smile.

Gods, babe. You were really testing him.

Guess he’d have to try harder.

***

You were new to the Santa Carla Police Department. Very new. New as in it was your first incident on your first night on patrol.

It was just your luck that you’d ended up with airhead who’d set off a whole fireworks display right outside of a crowded store, which could have serious injury, and was now trying to flirt his way out of it.

Hell—was he pouting?

For a city of its size, Santa Carla PD had a surprising number of job openings. You were new to the area, having moved because it seemed like a nice, sunny California beach town and you were in need of a change.

You didn’t have any prior experience but you’d passed all the screenings and tests and expected the job offer they made. It had benefits, the pay was good, and, importantly, it was legal which seemed to be in short supply around these parts.

That last part was a surprise, especially with the high number of missing people’s cases; you’d think that more places would be desperate to fill jobs, too.

Steering the suspect towards the check out counter, you flagged down the owner who had been the called in to the station.

He turned towards you with a smile on his face and greeted you politely. “Hello, officer.”

“We caught one suspect, sir. The other fled the scene and my partner went after him. I’ll get started on the report—are you planning to press charges?”

The smile was suddenly no where to be seen and he casted a glare at the handcuffed blonde.

“But of course. I’ve told this degenerate and the others in this gang to stay out of here a hundred times before. They’ve gone too far this time.”

The suspect merely shrugged his shoulders and winked at you which set the owner off further.

“That! That right there is what I’m talking about. No respect, no conduct. How is a father supposed to parent if he gets no respect? Maybe they’re missing a motherly influence,” he trailed off.

A motherly influence? Okaaay, then.

Clearing your throat, you tried to bring the conversation back to topic. “Yeah…Well let me put him in the car and then we can get started on the report. Have a good night, sir.”

That should’ve been the end of it but of course the blonde had to open his big mouth. “Bye daddy!”

Max’s hand came down heavy on the counter and you jostled the boy away before he managed to start a full-blown confrontation.

“You surely have a big mouth for someone who’s being arrested. Don’t make things worse for yourself.”

His head perked up and you had to really plant your weight to keep him from turning around and sending you flying into a display in the process. Definitely stronger than he looked.

You noted that piece of information just in case he tried anything else.

“Aww. Are you worried about me?” he cooed. “Don’t be. I trust you to protect me, officer.”

“Any one ever tell you that you’re ridiculous?”

“All the time,” he nodded happily.

The profile of the suspect was coming together in your mind. Clearly, he was simple.

Happy and excitable, and yes, even pretty, but simple.

There’s no way he had been the mastermind behind the firework plot; that honor was likely saved for the one who escaped. He probably hadn’t agreed to do it with malicious intent either. Unfortunately, his inability to think things through had landed him in trouble and he was your problem now.

When you got to the entryway he even tried to the door open. “After you, officer.”

With a resigned sigh, you prodded him forward. Again. Really, this guy was worse than a puppy. A puppy could eventually be trained to listen but seeing as how he was late teens/early twenties, it was doubtful he ever would.

“You said your name was Paul?”

The p in his ‘yep’ popped.

“Last name?”

“Just Paul. I wouldn’t mind getting your name though.”

There’s no way you were telling him that. He would be that much more insufferable if he knew. And try as he might to hide his full name, that would come out when you booked him at the station.

“Well, Paul. You’re being charged with public endangerment and vandalism. Under California law, those are both misdemeanor crimes so most likely—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved away your words with a flick of his head. Annoyed, you yanked on the cuffs, causing him to moan. “I do appreciate a good pair of handcuffs.”

“You—!” You had to stop yourself from calling him a little shit out loud. No one would’ve stopped you, but you felt weird about it, almost like it would come off as being unprofessional.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to bring your voice back down. “Saying crazy things is only going to make things worse for you.”

“Promise to punish me if I don’t?” Another wink was flashed at you.

It was at that point you noticed he had long lashes for a male. They fluttered like butterfly wings whenever he blinked. Except you had a job to do and really shouldn’t care about how pretty he was.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that it took you by surprise when he leaned in close. Acting on tactical instinct, you threw him against the police vehicle, his torso pressed against the hood with legs spread wide.

The position was designed to be as uncomfortable as it looked so that there was little to no chance of him bucking you off. Good.

“Need I remind you,” you said gruffly, “That you are under arrest. Don’t test me.”

“You should most definitely frisk me,” he panted.

You sincerely hoped it was pain, and not from pleasure, but from your brief encounter with Paul, it honestly could be the latter. Your own heart was pounding in your chest as well but that was due to the adrenaline pumping through your system.

Or so you maintained.

Still, he had a point. Frisking was standard procedure to make sure the suspect was carrying anything potentially dangerous, or illegal. Hell. You were going to have to give into this particular demand, weren’t you?

Wanting to get it over with, you tried to be as fast as possible while still be thorough.

His muscles were surprisingly cold as you felt up his arms and then his back. It was summertime and when most people had problems overheating, it didn’t seem to be an issue for him.

You dreaded going anywhere near his ass but it had to be done. He even insisted on ‘helping’ by pushing his cheeks further into your hands by curving his lower back as you patted down his pants pockets.

“Check the front too. I could have anything down my pants, ya know.”

That didn’t sound suggestive at all. His flirtations were so over the top is was near comical at that point. You couldn’t let him know that though. You were the authority figure in this situation.

“Alright smart guy, the frisking is over with. And surprise, surprise there was exactly nothing in your pants.”

“You wound me, babe.” If he had use of his arms, his hand would’ve definitely been placed over his heart.

Standing him upright, you opened the door to seat him in the back. That had been the plan any way.

One second you held his metal clad wrists firmly in your grip and in the next, he twisted himself away effortlessly.

He spread his hands apart and although they each had a shiny steel band around them, the chain that had connected them broke off with a metallic clink.

Just like that he was completely mobile and he wasted no time.

In another imperceptible move, he covered your back with his front, his breath tickling you.

You couldn’t hold back a shiver.

“It’s been a pleasure, officer, but I really should get going. I’m just too cute for jail.” He rolled his head and his nose traced the shell of your ear with a deep inhale. “This was fun though. Let’s do it again, hmm?”

He shoved you into the back seat and luckily your reflexes were fast enough to catch yourself before you face planted into the leather seat. Thrashing like mad, you spun around as fast as you could but it was no use: Paul was already gone.

Stumbling out, you looked back and forth hoping to catch a glimpse of what direction he went but it was useless. Not only was that little shit stronger than he seemed, he was also faster.

Noted.

With a sinking realization, you knew you were going to have to explain this to your partner.

Oh, you were not looking forward to this…

Worst first night on a job ever.

_______________

Hope you enjoyed Paul! I feel like this is goofy and over the top but I guess that’s basically Paul’s vibes in a nutshell. Marko has definitely gotten Paul arrested before and Max has definitely called the cops on them before too haha. Thanks for reading <3

#the lost boys #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines

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eliemo · 3 years

Text

Something Long and Stupid

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

TWs: Violence, threats, strong language, blood

Notes: Superhero au, Spiderman Virgil, Deadpool Remus, enemies to lovers Dukexiety

New project that nobody asked for. I know I should finish my ongoing wips before starting a new one but I do not control the hyperfixation.

(Part 1) (Part 2)

When Virgil kicked Remus in the chest and sent him hurtling off the building into an active construction site, Remus found himself thinking about how they’d met.

Honestly, it hadn’t started off much better. Spiderman was a piece of shit who thought he was so much better than Remus just because Deadpool killed some people every now and then.

Well, that had been the first impression anyway. They hadn’t exactly started off on the right foot.

Remus had been doing his job, thank you very much, he was a mercenary for hire, it wasn’t like he’d been going after a gang of strangers for fun. And he certainly hadn’t needed help.

There were three of them and one of him, just some standard thugs that had been causing a bit too much trouble for people with more money to spend, their names already set to pay for Remus’s rent this month.

He’d unsheathed his swords, (guns would make it over too quickly, and what was the fun in that?) letting the assholes get their hopes up by grabbing for their own weapons and then—

Then all his targets were all suddenly covered in webs, firmly plastered to the nearest wall with threats and screaming that Remus ignored in favor of whirling around, slicing the air with his blades.

“Hey, what the fuck?”

Spiderman was half hanging off the wall, stepping back down onto the ground when he saw Remus staring. “You’re welcome,” he called, like Remus had asked for him to come in ruin is fun.

Remus scoffed, because rude. You don’t just steal someone’s kill like that. But at least they were immobilized now, which meant shooting them and getting the day over with would be a piece of cake. The webs weren’t budging no matter how frantically they kicked.

He yanked his gun from his belt to do exactly that, only to have another web (seriously, fucking spider webs had no business being this strong) wrapped around his wrist, another pulling the pistol right out of his hand.

“Uh, motherfucker?” Remus took a step back, furiously grabbing at the lingering webs with his bare hands, grimacing at the way it clung to his leather. “Jeez, you want me to decapitate them instead?”

“They’re already down,” the asshole said, like Remus hadn’t noticed. “Back off, Deadpool.”

Remus didn’t have time to be surprised that Spiderman knew who he was, far too busy wanting to run over and punch him right in his stupid masked face. “Ok, clearly you don’t know my deal. Move it, Webs.”

“Then you don’t know mine,” he said, masked eye staring blankly from underneath the hood over his suit. “I’m not letting you murder defenseless people.”

“They’re not fucking defenseless.”

“They’re not breaking free,” the spider said. “The cops will take whoever I capture for them. Call them and leave.”

Remus scoffed and tightened his hold on his sword, wondering if he really wanted to get into a fight with Spiderman in the middle of the afternoon. It was only fucking Tuesday, he was too tired to deal with this shit. “And they can take them in body bags. Give me my gun back.”

Remus was a good foot taller than him, and loaded with about three times as many weapons, but the masked asshole didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. God, he was probably smirking under his suit.

“I finished the fight, I get to decide.” He turned around, his back to Remus like he didn’t even care. “Maybe try to be faster next time.”

“Oh, fuck right off with that,” Remus snarled. “Fuck off. Fuck off and suck a fat dick, you fucking—”

“Either you walk away, or I leave you tied to the wall.”

“Kinky,” Remus smirked, even if Spiderman couldn’t see it under his own mask. “But fat fucking luck. No way in hell am I letting some bitch in black and purple spanx steal my kill.”

Spiderman actually had the audacity to sigh, like he was dealing with a petulant child. “Nobody’s getting killed.”

“You know, I’ve got more than one gun,” Remus said, mentally calculating how fast he’d have to move to shoot every single person in this alleyway. “I’m playing nice. Get out of my way.”

“You’re not shooting someone who can’t fight back.”

“Oh, are you the moral police?” Jesus, Remus wanted to punch this guy. “Man, fuck off. It’s none of your business.”

He grabbed for his other gun, only to immediately feel something wrap around his waist and legs, yanking hard and lifting him into the air. He shouted something he really hoped no pedestrians were close by enough to overhear, doing his absolute best to give Spiderman his coldest glare as he was slammed against the brick wall, upside down, held firmly down by fucking spider webs.

“Oh, you bitch.”

Remus twisted and thrashed, and while he could feel the webs giving way already it would be a good few minutes until he was free. That fucking asshole.

“Next time I see you I’m cutting off your spider ass and hanging it on my fucking wall!”

Spiderman ignored him, and Remus watched as he grabbed the thugs Remus was supposed to kill and one by one swung them out of the alleyway before disappearing completely.

That whore.

It hadn’t been long, unfortunately, until they’d met again, and Remus had of course tried to punch the asshole right in the head.

They’d ended up on the same rooftop, which was even worse because Remus came up here to relax. Spiderman had just been sitting there, legs dangling over the edge as he watched over the city, looking almost peaceful with his hood down and the sun beating against his mask.

So Remus had immediately vaulted over and swung at him as hard as he possibly could.

And then he’d missed, because of course Spidey had to have fucking inhuman reflexes, which was bullshit. He’d ducked away and managed to jump to Remus’s side before Remus even registered that his fist had met nothing but air.

“Can you leave?” Spiderman asked, so unbothered it only made Remus angrier. “I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Making sure people don’t get killed,” he said, moving back towards the ledge. “You should try it sometime.”

Remus crossed his arms, watching the vigilante in disbelief. “You get that I’m a mercenary, right? You’re surprised by the killing thing?”

“I’m not,” he said, and he still wouldn’t even look at Remus. “But I’m stopping it when I can.”

“Oh? So you’re ruining a small business?” Remus threw his arms out and turned towards the ledge overlooking the bustling city. “Spiderman doesn’t support small businesses, you heard it here first, folks!”

Spidey was staring at him now, and Remus had a sneaking suspicion he would not appreciate the look he was being given if the mask was taken off. Asshole.

“I don’t support killing people, Deadpool.”

“Sucks,” Remus said. “You should’ve stayed out of the way. If I wasn’t so kind and generous I would have shot you.”

“You mean if you hadn’t been tied up and defenseless,” Spiderman corrected, and Remus was right back to wanting to punch him. “You’re lucky I didn’t get you arrested.”

Remus dramatically put a hand to his chest and gasped, walking along the roof’s edge. “Oh no. What ever would I have done? I’d be defeated! My one weakness. C ops.”

Spidey didn’t respond, but he did get up and move away when Remus got a bit too close to where he was perched on the ledge. Ha .

“Maybe I should have called the cops on you, Spidey,” Remus added. “They’d finally catch the masked menace. Some jail time might humble you.”

“I’d be fine,” Spiderman said. “I wasn’t the one tied to a wall.”

Remus hopped back onto the roof with a growl, grimacing at the reminder of how long it had taken to get those webs off his suit. “Yeah, don’t do that shit again. Seriously, I can and will end you.”

“Get in line behind half the city, Deadpool.”

Remus scoffed, something he apparently did a lot of whenever talking to Spiderman, and followed him across the rooftop. “Man, your ratings are shit. At least I don't act like a hero.”

It was hard to see, barely noticeable, but Remus saw Spidey’s shoulders tense, just a bit. Apparently he’d struck a nerve. Good.

“I don’t act like anything,” he said, and it was just a little less cocky than before. “I’m just trying to help people.”

“Oh, so you’re playing hero.” Remus grinned, moving until he was crouched right in front of the vigilante. “Ooh ooh, let me guess...you’re in college. You’re ...22. Maybe 23, or 24. You got these big bad powers one day and figured you were the only one in the whole wide world who could protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves.”

Spidey didn’t answer, just looked at him with that blank, unamused stare, so Remus continued. “Or were you born with them? Doesn’t seem like it, you’ve only popped up in the last two or three years—”

“It’s none of your business,” Spiderman cut in, and Remus smirked. “And you’re wrong, for the record.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Remus asked, amused despite himself. “If nobody wants you, why are you even trying?”

Spidey was tense now, and doing a real bad job of hiding it. “Maybe I don’t give a shit what people think.”

“Right.” Remus didn’t need to see the guy’s face to know that wasn’t it. “You do realize how much money you could make with those powers, right?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’m fine doing what I’m doing.”

Remus looked him over, he’d seen spidey all over newspapers and on TV before, but this was the first time actually talking to him in person, besides the other day when the asshole had ruined his afternoon. Honestly, it was kinda underwhelming. He expected the suit to be higher tech, at least.

“Are you broke?” he asked. “You seem broke. I could make you a way better mask, by the way. It looks like shit.”

“I’m sure,” Spidey said, completely ignoring his generous offer. Rude. “And how much do you get paid for killing people?”

“A lot.”

Spiderman hummed nonchalantly, no longer looking at Remus. “Well, I’m glad it’s worth it.”

“It is! I sleep like a baby in my king sized bed.” And yeah, that was a little bit of a lie. Barely.. He wasn’t living that luxuriously, New York was expensive as shit, but based on his tech he was way better off than Webs.

“That’s wonderful,” Spiderman said and damn, apparently the masked menace was capable of being a sarcastic bastard as well as a cocky asshole. “You done pretending now? Can I go?”

“I’m not pretending anything.”

“Yeah, ok.” Spiderman was back to sounding arrogant, and Remus couldn’t remember why they were talking instead of fighting to the death. “I know you sleep like shit.”

Remus actually laughed, humorless and cold, because what the fuck?

“Oh yeah?”

“Nobody kills for a living if their life is going great,” Spidey said. “What horrible trauma pushed you to that decision?”

Oh, this motherfucker. This piece of shit. He was so dead when Remus could catch him off guard.

“Nobody puts on a costume and fights crime when half the city wants him dead if his life is going great, either.” Remus smirked, moving to try to get Spidey to look at him again. “At least I get money for it. No student loan debt at 26 is pretty nice.”

He probably shouldn’t have given the vigilante that was quickly turning into his sworn enemy his age but eh. What was he gonna do, kill him? Remus didn’t stay dead.

“That’s great,” Spiderman said. “And all it cost was people’s lives.”

“Yep!” Remus hoped it came out cheery enough to piss him off a little more. “Think of it this way, Spidey. They’re gonna die anyway.”

Spiderman immediately straightened up and stalked to the other end of the rooftop, clearly wanting the conversation to end. Mission accomplished. “Jesus Christ.”

“It’s true!” he called, just to drive home the fuck off a bit more. “Someone would have gotten to them eventually.”

“They’re still people, Deadpool.”

Remus shrugged. “Good people don't get hits put on them.”

“Maybe not,” the vigilante agreed. “But good people don’t murder in exchange for money, either.”

Remus barked another laugh at that, more genuine this time because... yeah? Duh. “No shit. I never fucking said I was a good person.”

“You’re lucky you haven't killed anyone innocent yet.” And goddammit there was that ‘hero’ shit again that made Remus want to throw up. He’d just been starting to have fun, too.

“It’s still not your business.”

“It will be,” Spidey said, perched on the ledge in a way that would make Remus dizzy if he cared. “Stick to killing criminals and we'll be fine.”

“Oh?” Remus followed, smirking in a way that would probably get him punched if he took off his mask. “Are you gonna come get me if I’m not good?”

“That’s my job.”

“Aw, don’t worry,” Remus teased. “I’ll wear something sexy for you.”

“Gross.”

“Love you too, Spider Babe!”

Spidey scoffed, responding with a gloved middle finger when Remus winked. Remus watched a web shoot from his wrist, and suddenly Spiderman was gone, swinging across New York rooftops, leaving Remus to try to figure out how he was getting down.

Remus honestly hadn’t expected to see him again. He was fucked in the head, but he didn’t have any plans to lose control and start killing everyone in sight. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t a villain Spiderman needed to spend time tracking down. New York was busy enough for both of them already.

He did plan on chucking the nearest heavy object at him if he ever saw Spidey swinging past. That never ended up happening. Not that he cared. He didn’t miss him.

He expected to catch a glimpse of him eventually, maybe close enough to yell a few lighthearted threats or call him names, but nothing as entertaining as the argument on the roof.

What he hadn’t expected, was to run right into the masked menace while walking home in the middle of the night.

Remus had just finished a job, something standard and quick, and after wiping the blood from his blades he’d decided to take the long way home. The sun had set, the night air was crisp and relaxing, and it helped Remus forget about the blood stains he needed to wash away.

He’d been cutting through sidestreets, mentally mapping out how to get back to his place. He turned a corner into an alleyway, and—

And there was Spiderman, hunched over himself and leaned against the wall like he’d been using it for support, shaking, gasping, and completely drenched in deep red blood.

Remus froze, and Spidey did too as soon as he registered Deadpool standing just a few paces away, the two of them staring silently for what felt like an eternity.

“Dude,” Remus said when he found his voice. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Spiderman was clutching at his chest, black and purple suit barely able to hide the red stains, leaned heavily against the brick wall as he watched Remus warily. “Nothing.”

“Don’t be stupid. Whose blood is that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he snapped, and his voice was wavering. “Keep walking.”

Remus took a step forward, frowning at the way the vigilante went tense against the wall. He ignored it. “Whose blood is it?” It came out more of a command than a question this time.

“Mostly mine,” Spiderman said, and Remus could see it pooling around his gloves now that he was closer. “It’s fine.”

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“None of your business. Go home.”

Remus tried to get a better look from where he stood, well aware that approaching might not be the best idea right now. “Was it a gun or a knife?”

“It was none of your business and you need to go away.”

Remus watched him, incredulous, because the idiot was barely standing and losing way too much blood way too quickly, and he was pretty sure Spiderman didn’t have Remus’s whole immortality deal.

“You really want to bleed out on the street like some street thug?”

The vigilante hesitated, and Remus listened to the way his breathing was turning into awful sounding wheezes. “I’m...not going to bleed out. I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah?” Remus challenged, probably a bit more aggressively than was needed for someone who looked like they were about to keel over. “Walk over to me then.”

He’d expected the lack of response, but even though the eyes built into the suit were practically lifeless (he really should get him some more advanced goggles. He’d be a lot more approachable if his eyes weren’t so blank) Remus could still see his whole body tense in fear.

“No,” he said, low and trembling. “Fuck off.”

“Spidey, this isn’t a joke.” Jesus, that was a lot of blood. “You’re gonna bleed out.”

“And you can throw a party—”

“Fucking come here.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but he wasn’t going to just stand here bickering with the city’s hero until he dropped dead. But Spidey still shook his head, pressed even further against the wall now, and Remus sighed. “Fine.”

Remus took a few steps forward, initially planning on prying his arms away to get a better look at the wound, but Spiderman flinched back, trying to scramble away like Remus was coming at him with a weapon.

Well, Remus supposed that made sense. He had threatened to kill him a couple times last time they spoke.

“Chill it, Spidey.” Remus crouched a bit, suddenly painfully aware of how much taller he was, carefully holding his hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he shot back. Which...yeah, fair. “I know you want to.”

“Does it look like I have a knife in my hand?” Remus asked. “No. Chill out and let me see.”

Spidey didn’t pull away when Remus took his shoulders, but he did flinch as soon as Deadpool touched him, probably involuntarily. Remus ignored it, focusing instead on figuring out where the blood was coming from. It was almost impossible in the dark lighting, especially up against the black suit.

“It’s...not that bad,” Spiderman rasped. “Seriously.”

Remus wasn’t buying that for a second. “What happened?”

“I was stupid, that’s what happened,” Spidey said, arms still wrapped firmly around himself. “It...there were five of them and one of them got lucky with a knife.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Remus pulled back, trying to figure out what to do. “You are stupid. Where?”

He only hesitated a moment. “Uh, my chest. I heal fast.”

“Jesus. How fast?”

Spiderman shrugged, then obviously regretted it when it pulled at the stab wound. “Hopefully fast enough,” he said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow or I’ll be dead.”

“Jesus,” Remus said again, because what the fuck else was he supposed to say? “Sit down. Jesus Christ.”

Spidey thankfully did as he said, though Remus suspected it had more to do with the fact that he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore rather than actually following instructions.

He wasn’t fighting anymore, almost limp as Remus took his wrists and moved them to his sides, but he did look like he was ready to bolt the second Deadpool made one wrong move.

Like he wouldn’t fall right on his face and hurt himself worse if he tried.

Remus could see the source of the blood now, a deep gash across his upper chest that had apparently sliced the black and purple suit like butter, still gushing crimson with each passing second.

Shit.

“Alright, uh.” This wasn’t his expertise in the slightest. Other than digging out some bullets, Remus didn't have to tend to his wounds. “I don’t think I have any fabric or...oh, your hoodie. Hand it over.”

Spiderman stared, and if he didn’t hurry up and get with the program Remus was going to knock him out and handle this himself. “Why?”

“Because you’re bleeding out. Give it.”

Spidey at least had the sense to listen and carefully peel the hoodie away from his suit, sliding it down his arms even as his gloved hands shook violently. Remus couldn’t help but wince at the noise Spiderman tried to choke back, because that had to hurt like a bitch.

“Maybe, like...lay down?” Remus suggested. “Yeah, do that. It’ll help.”

Spidey still hesitated, even as the blood continued to flow and he started to slide down against his will. “I...need to see what you’re doing.”

Remus sighed, bunching up the hoodie and pressing it firmly against the wound, ignoring the strangled gasp that came from the vigilante. Blood was quickly soaking through the cloth, and Remus just pressed harder.

“I’m just putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding,” Remus said. “If I wanted to kill you I’d leave you here. If it stops bleeding you’ll heal, right?”

The only answer he got was another wet, trembling gasp when Remus pushed harder, Spiderman’s blood soaking into his gloves. It took a second for him to realize he was grasping at Remus’s wrists, his hold weak.

“H-hopefully,” Spidey managed, and he really didn’t sound great. His eyes were drooping, and Remus figured the biggest danger right now was letting him fall asleep. “Or, you know. I’ll die.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Remus said without thinking. “I’m gonna stop the bleeding, you’re gonna heal with whatever weird powers you have, and then you’ll be less of a careless idiot next time.”

A few moments passed without an answer, and for once Remus wasn’t entirely sure how to fill the silence. The only sound between them was Spiderman’s labored, ragged breathing, which at least sounded a bit less shaky and faint as Remus continued to press down.

“What are you doing?” Spidey asked eventually, catching Remus completely off guard with the stupid question. “Why are you...trying to help?”

Remus wasn’t trying to do anything. He was helping. The city’s beloved hero would have been dead five minutes ago if he hadn’t managed to interrupt Remus’s perfectly nice, peaceful walk.

He hadn’t even really thought about it. Remus was an asshole, a murderer for a living, but he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t the guy who was going to leave New York’s savior to bleed out in an alleyway.

Besides, he’d been the first person Remus had been able to have a somewhat entertaining conversation with in months.

“Somebody’s gotta save everyone,” he eventually settled on, still pressing hard against the wound. “And I refuse to be the city’s only mouthy vigilante.”

Another beat of silence, and for a moment Remus thought he might have fallen asleep. “I don’t...save anyone. And I’m not mouthy.”

“You do,” Remus argued. “And you are.”

“I don’t,” he snapped, and at least he didn’t seem inclined to argue about the mouthy thing. “You do your job better than I do.”

Remus took a moment to look over the bleeding hero. He was weak and trembling, and probably dangerously pale and clammy under that suit. The blood flow had definitely slowed, but it hadn't stopped. There was a good chance he wouldn’t remember a damn thing Remus said to him tonight.

And if he did, it’s not like he really gave a shit, anyway.

“I’m a mercenary,” Remus said. “Anyone can kill someone. It takes something a lot stronger to save them. So shut up and stop being self deprecating.”

Spiderman shuddered when Remus carefully peeled back the bloody hoodie, leaning in to get a better look at where they were at. Either he was just that good at fixing stab wounds, or Spidey’s healing powers were gradually starting to kick in.

Remus decided to go with the former. He deserved it.

“I got someone killed tonight,” Spidey said, quiet and unbearably sad. “She...she died because I wasn’t fast enough, and I didn’t—”

“You can’t save everyone.”

The vigilante pulled his hands away from Remus’s wrists, like he’d just realized he was holding them. “I should have tried harder.”

Remus sighed. “You tried hard enough. You did fine.”

That was apparently the end of the conversation, Spiderman falling back into silence as Remus went back to making sure he didn’t start bleeding all over the place again. He didn’t have anything on him to properly clean it up, he wasn’t sure he even owned a first-aid kit, but Spidey’s breathing was starting to even out, and after about ten minutes or so the blood stopped flowing completely.

“You, uh...you good?”

“I’ll be fine,” Spiderman said, and it didn’t sound like a desperate lie this time. He still looked like shit, but he was able to slowly sit up on his own. “Not dying this time. Just...still hurts.”

They were plunged back into silence, slightly less tense than before but no less uncomfortable. Remus eventually relinquished his hold on the hoodie when Spidey was able to carefully take it from him.

Right, he was fine now. Remus didn’t need to stay, it wasn’t his business anymore. It hadn’t been his business to begin with.

“I...owe you,” Spiderman said, almost like it was strange for him to admit. “So, thank y—”

“Don’t thank me, Spidey.” God, this had been a mistake, hadn’t it? “Seriously. Just buy me a pizza sometime and we’ll call it square.”

Spiderman stared for second, unsteady hands holding his own hood to his chest, but the small laugh that escaped at least sounded genuine, and no longer quite so pained.

“Ok,” he said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Remus hesitated before standing, not really sure if it would be more rude to leave or stay at this point. Spiderman probably didn’t want a mercenary for hire standing over him while he was wounded, whether Remus had saved his life or not.

Remus was still just as far from a hero as the villains Spiderman fought, and both of them had a reputation to keep.

“You sure you’re ok?” Remus asked. “I can like...stay. Or call you an ambulance or...something.”

“I’m good,” Spidey said, sitting up with a small hiss of pain until he was propped up against the wall, breathing still heavy. “You stopped the bleeding, I’ll live. You can go home, Deadpool.”

“Right.” He carefully stepped around the vigilante, still keeping a close eye on his chest to make sure the bleeding didn’t start again. “Just don’t die after all my hard work. My gloves are fucking soaked.”

Spiderman scoffed, but it was more good natured and light than it had been the last time they talked. “You got it.”

Remus kept walking down the alley, only turning around once more before turning the corner at the end. “And don’t forget my pizza, Spidey!”

#spiderman virgil #deadpool remus #superhero au #spiderman au #spideypool #dukexiety #virgil sanders #remus sanders #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #violence tw #sex jokes #remus being remus #blood tw #injury #sanders sides #fanfiction #writing

198 notes · View notes

songbirdsingingthings · 3 years

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Midnight Revelations - Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Fluff, Swearing (It’s Bakugou, so, that’s kinda a given)

Requested by @luluwiie :

Given your gift for writing, I'm honestly utterly surprised your box is not already full :o but this is my chance ! Kuhuhu * robbing hands *

May I request a Todoroki or Bakugo one shot (Just choose whether you feel more inspired with one, another or both) where they are just sharing some moments with reader, and like, they enjoy their time with Reader and when they come back to their dorms, alone in their bedroom, they just realize how much they care for Reader? Like, more than their close friend and partner in crimes ? Like, more in a pining way? I just love emotional epiphanies 😳❤

Tysm if you do this ! CANT WAIT TO READ YOU MORE ❤❤

- Luluv

A/N: YOU’RE LITERALLY THE SWEETEST ❤❤❤. I had a lot of fun writing this one since Bakugou is such an interesting character, so I hope you enjoy!! (Also, the song “True Love” by P!NK was playing nonstop in my head while writing this.)

Word Count: 1.9K

If it was within his control, Katsuki Bakugou would be fast asleep in his own bed by now. It made sense to him - the sky was completely dark making the stars clearly visible and it was already past 10:30 p.m., so why on earth was he awake? The short and simplest answer yielded the same result; you. How you had wedged yourself in between him and his strict sleep schedule, Bakugou had no idea, so here he was, sat with a grimace on his face as you tried to work out the last math problem on the long homework sheet Ectoplasm had assigned.

“Wait, so when it’s a hyperbola, it’s a²- b² = c²?” You ask, glancing in between the blonde-haired boy sat next to you and the sheet full of conic section equations. Bakugou just looked at you with a mixture of a tired and dumbfounded expression.

“No, idiot, it’s a²+ b² = c² because the standard form uses subtraction. It’s the other way around for ellipses.” He explains gruffly, taking your mechanical pencil and writing down the equation roughly. However, due to the sheer force of his hand on the poor little pencil, the led snapped off. You laughed a little at the outburst that followed shortly after.

“Bakugou, don’t press so hard, the lead is thinner.” You say, taking the pencil from his hand gingerly. He simply scoffs in return.

“Yeah, well, normal pencils don’t do that. Get better ones next time.” He hurumphs, leaning back in his chair and letting his head hang off the back. He remains like this for a few minutes while you scribble down the rest of your equations, ultimately coming to a solution.

“Okay, I think I got it! Is it… (y+5)²/9 - (x - 4)²/25?” With a hesitant voice and a hopeful expression, you push the homework sheet in front of Bakugou to hopefully gain his approval. You wince as he scans your work carefully, raising his eyebrows on certain occasions. Finally, he sets the paper down and slides it back over to you. “Well?” You ask, a little exasperated.

“Yeah, that’s the correct answer.” With a sigh of relief you slumped back into your chair with a smile on your face. However, that only lasted for a few seconds. “Wait, then what the hell were those facial expressions when you were looking at it?” You ask, taking the math sheet and putting it in a folder that was then shoved into your school bag.

“Your handwriting is shit.” Is all Bakugou had to say as he stood up and stretched his arms out. You roll your eyes and glance at the clock.

“Damn, it’s already 11:15.” You murmur, letting one of your hands card through your hair, massaging your head and releasing the tension that was built up by doing several pages of pre-calc. “Thanks, by the way. You didn’t need to stay this late to help me out, so I really appreciate it.” You say, expressing your gratitude to the blonde. Bakugou rubs his eyes before slinging his bag over his shoulder, letting his blazer stay unbuttoned and his tie loose around his neck. You had to admit, his somewhat disheveled look did look quite attractive on him, but if you told him that he would either never let you hear the end of it or get pissed off for commenting on his fashion. He already got enough of that from his parents, apparently.

“Yeah, I didn’t, and now thanks to you I’m gonna be tired as hell in the morning.” He complains, opening the door to your dorm to exit.

“You know, a cold compress does wonders for eyebags.” You say, a mischievous grin on your face. He narrows his eyes and flips you off. “I enjoyed spending time with you too, Bakugou!” And with that, the door to your dorm was closed.

Katsuki felt like a zombie by the time he got to his own dorm. He didn’t even bother putting his school bag on his desk or arranging his shoes by the door like he usually does. Instead, he just let the brown shoulder bag slump onto the floor as he fumbled to get his shoes off. Why the hell had you made him stay for so long? He finished all of his homework hours before you did, and still, he had to remain stationed at that wooden low table as he had to keep himself busy while you plugged away at your own work. After about an hour, looking through his phone got incredibly boring so he moved on to looking around your room, taking in all of the things that made it up. Of course, he wasn’t doing this to try to get to know you more, he already knew all he needed to… right? But as his eyes raked over the photos and decor of your room, the more glimpses he got into your personal life, so he stopped immediately.

Bakugou did make an effort to change his clothes. Peeling his blazer from his arms and hanging it up haphazardly in his closet along with his white button up. He tugged on a random black shirt and swapped his uniform pants for pajama ones and finally, finally, clambered into his bed. And, although he tried hard to make his brain shut off and just let him enter a dreamless sleep, his mind began to wander. He blamed his delirious nature for letting his neurons take him from place to place, situation to situation, until they finally projected an image of you into his head. It was a simple display of you and a recent one, too. Just Y/N L/N, sat at the little wooden table with her head perched on one of her hands with a stupid mechanical pencil in her hand. Did her hair always kind of frame her face like that? He wondered, scrunching his closed eyes. It didn’t look as horrible today, he supposed. Bakugou let his eyes flutter open, only to see that his digital clock read a clear 12:04 a.m. in electric red. He sighed and let his gaze fall on the ceiling right above him. Why was he thinking of you this late in the evening? And, to his surprise, he realized that he felt much more at home in your dorm room than he did right now, in his own space.

“What the hell…” He muttered, turning on his bedside lamp. His room was shed in a soft light, illuminating only the nearest furniture and himself. If he wasn’t able to go asleep, he sure as hell wouldn’t let this time go to waste. Picking up the book on his shelf that he was most recently into, he flipped through the pages to find his place and started reading again. He would never admit it, but Pride and Prejudice was turning out to be a much better read than expected. Bakugou found the main heroine to be much more likeable than any others he had read about. Her charisma and wit satisfied him where other characters were lacking, and the way she refused to be phased by an arrogant and sometimes brash guy who pushed her buttons constantly… He let the book fall to the ground without so much of a care as realizations flooded his brain. You put up with him. Whenever he was acting rude or was teasing you without relent, you would just simply roll your eyes and fire back. He put up with you, too. All your unreasonable habits, like staying up way too late, he was still by your side. Why?

“I…” Katsuki forced himself to look into the mirror. He saw his reflection to be way out of the norm. His eyes were wide, his posture was perfect, and his cheeks were red. “I like her.” He let the words flow freely from his mouth. With one more glance to the clock by his bedside, he grabbed a hoodie and shoved his head through it while opening his door and heading straight to yours. He knew from all of the prior knowledge on you stored in his brain and the light that shown beneath your door that you were, in fact, still awake. With three soft knocks, your door swung open to reveal you. Clad in soft looking pajama shorts and a flimsy top, your hair was a mess and your eyes were drooping. Bakugou never thought you could look so beautiful.

“Bakugou, it’s way past your bedtime.” You quip, your voice mimicking a doting parent. Bakugou shoved his way past you into your room and began to lightly pace. Your once joking smile fell into a confused frown, your eyes starting to swim with concern. “Seriously, Katsuki, what’s up? You’ve never stayed up this late except for that one time I insisted you did because a once in a lifetime meteor shower was on full display. I mean, you complained about it of course, but I knew you actually liked it because your eyes-”

“Just, shut it!” The blonde finally says. You pull back slightly, surprised at his words. “You write your twos and sevens weird, some of your habits tend to be unproductive, and sometimes I just can not stand you, but I like you.” The two of you are silent for a moment before you take a step towards him.

“You have feelings for me?” You ask, your voice soft like velvet and your eyes twinkling. Despite all of his reservations, his hard exterior and the sneer he always wore melted.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” You shook your head and took another step forward.

“Don’t answer it like you're confirming that I correctly solved a math problem. Answer it like you love me.” Bakugou’s cheeks flamed at your sudden confidence, but he took a step forward so that your bodies were almost touching.

“I love you Y/N.” And with that, a wide grin spread across your face. Your arms wrapped themselves around the blonde’s neck and you leaned into him, your lips meeting his in a searing kiss. It was slow in pace but fierce in passion as he grew more comfortable, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you closer so that you were flush against his chest. Breathless and red in the face, Bakugou finally pulls back to see your ecstatic face. “Oi, what’s with the face?” He says, flustered.

“Nothing,” you say, going into your bathroom with a little towelette. He raises his eyebrows. “I told you before, a cold compress works wonders for the inevitable eye bags that you will have in the morning, and this is the perfect size.” He huffs in amusement and plucks the towelette from your hands. “Plus, you’ll have to return it to me. It gives you another excuse to hang out with me.” Bakugou finally earns a little confidence and his trademarked smirk spreads across his face.

“I don’t need an excuse to hang out with you. You’ll need my help again on the homework.”

“Always the charmer,” you quip, walking with him so that he was standing in the hallway and you in the doorway. “See ya tomorrow,” you smile, pecking him on the lips.

“See ya, Y/N.” His blush was still prevalent, but his eyebrows narrowed and a scowl replaced the smirk. “And throw out those mechanical pencils, they’re absolute shit.”

“Anything for you, Lover!” You joke, closing the door. Lover, he thinks. He can get used to a nickname like that.

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paterson-blue · 3 years

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Shadow of the Sea: Chapter 1

Summary: Kylo is used to being alone. It's how he's survived this long, in the cold ocean depths. He can take care of himself. Other creatures--other merfolk--are dangerous; he has the scars to prove it. Humans, however, are the worst of all. But one day, Kylo finds he has no other choice but to turn to one for help. The human he meets is nothing like he expects, and all he knows is he wants more. Is he willing to pay the price?

Word Count: 4,394

Warnings: fem!AFAB!reader, plot set up, kylo ren needs a hug confirmed, non-graphic descriptions of violence & bodily harm, brief mentions of blood & wounds, very vague medical descriptions lol, minor character death (happens off screen), oh but there's also one that happens on screen but it's brief, big time ocean nostalgia from your dear author— let me know if I need to add anything else!

A/N: Thank you @paper-n-ashes for beta reading! Icon behavior tbh.

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

Kylo prided himself on his independence—his ferocity, his ability to fight his way out of every corner. His body was scarred and battle-hardened, but that didn’t matter. It was proof he was a survivor, and it’s not like he had anyone around him to care about his appearance. Most creatures he saw took one look at his massive form and ran.

He was intimidating, all muscle, his fins torn from previous fights. While his skin was pale, his scales were an onyx color; it made blending into the ocean depths easier. He couldn’t understand why merfolk’s standard of beauty was a brightly colored tail; didn’t it make camouflaging more difficult?

He guessed most merfolk didn’t care about that. They lived in large groups, colorful and cheerful and busy amongst other plant and animal life. Not many delved into the cold, murky areas Kylo had made his home. But he’d been there as long as he could remember, and there was no sense in changing things. He wouldn’t be welcome in the warmer waters anyway. They didn’t want him, and he didn’t want them.

So he kept away, and no one dared bother him. Those that did quickly learned not to. He had killed many creatures, and while it was all in defense, his reputation still preceded him. After all, he’d once fought one of the most dangerous predators the ocean knew, and he’d won.

He’d killed a human, after they’d captured him in their net. He’d overpowered them easily, yanked them from their boat into the water; he hadn’t even flinched when their little fishing knife plunged into his side. He’d watched with a furious gaze as the air left their lungs, their pathetic struggling eventually ceasing. Then he’d calmly cut himself loose from the netting. The knife wound had scarred over, but it was just one more to add to his collection.

Yes, Kylo prided himself on his abilities. He had no fear, no weakness; he never ran from a fight.

He was running now.

He’d been foolish. He should have realized why his normal hunting grounds had been so devoid of fish for the past few days—he should have seen the signs, should have been more careful. But hunger makes you desperate; makes you stupid. He hadn’t been paying attention, too focused on the singular fish he’d found.

It seemed to happen all at once. A sudden blow to his head that left him reeling, pain shooting through his skull as he whips himself around in attempts to find his attacker. A searing burn in his side the exact moment he feels a sharp pinch at the back of his neck. His head starts to spin with confusion, the scent of his own blood in the water.

He spots a figure out of the corner of his eye, and his heart leaps into his throat. It was a human, and they had some sort of weapon pointed right at him.

Kylo doesn’t think—he just bolts. They don’t seem to follow him at first, and he doesn’t understand why until he starts to feel the first symptoms of whatever they’ve injected him with. It makes him dizzy, makes his vision start to blur as a sickening metallic taste fills his mouth.

No, he thinks. I won’t let them do this.

He pulls strength from deep within and pushes himself to swim faster, farther. He hears a muffled shout from behind, and oh, they’re pursuing him now.

He swims frantically, skirting around rocks and through kelp forests, desperately trying to lose them even though he thinks he might hear the dull thrum of a boat motor over the thudding of blood in his ears. Kriff, he was so tired. It would be so easy to let the human magic overtake him, to sink to the ocean floor.

Was this death? A dreamless sleep that crept over your senses until you had no choice but to succumb to it? Kylo doesn’t want to die, not like this. Not where they can get to him, at least.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, doesn’t even know where he is until he catches a quick glimpse of a familiar rock formation. His mind is in shambles, drugged and panicked, lacking oxygen as his gills burn with the strain of his labored breathing.

A cove. Not too far from here. Too shallow for a boat, too rocky for humans. A cave to shelter in. Go, swim, fast, now, now, go.

The voice in his head doesn’t feel like his own—it’s frantic, urgent, thoughtless. Usually he was so composed, controlled. The threat of death had turned him into nothing more than an animal; he’s never felt so small.

He ducks and weaves as he swims towards the hidden cove, trying to convince himself he’s doing it on purpose and not just fading in and out of consciousness. If he can just stay awake a little longer, if he can just make it to that kriffing cave, he can die with dignity. Alone and cold, drugged and bleeding, but away from the humans trying to hurt him.

Kylo nearly loses his speed when he breeches the shallow waters of the cove, his mind wanting to shut down now that he’s made it. He forces himself to keep going despite his nausea and lightheadedness. His lungs are screaming, muscles aching; he scrapes his tail against the rocky outcroppings as he searches frantically for the mouth of the underwater cave.

It’s here, it’s here. I know it’s here, I’ve seen it, I mapped it. Where is it?!

His hands snag against an opening, just barely big enough for him to squeeze through, and he darts into it. It’s a tight fit, and for a brief second Kylo is terrified he’ll get stuck and pass out from whatever the humans hit him with—he’ll die, trapped, never to be found.

But then, quick as a flash, he’s through to the other side. The small tunnel opens up into a larger cavern, protected from the elements and decorated with several pools of varying depths. He’d explored it once, curious, thinking it would be a nice place to hide. It was a little too close to humanity for his comfort, but then again he’d never seen this area very populated. He’d figured he’d keep it in the back of his mind for later.

Turns out later was now.

Kylo pulls himself to the edge of the main and deepest pool, looking around urgently through spotty vision. There was a pool in the corner, half hidden by rocks—it looked shallow, but just deep enough to be submerged. Exhaling fast, he hauls himself up and out of the water, coughing and choking as his body tries to adjust from using his gills to his mouth and nose to breathe. It was never an easy transition, and he hated doing it, but right now it was what he needed.

He growls to himself as he pulls his heavy body along the rough stone cave floor, his normally nimble tail a dead weight. If he wasn’t about to faint, he thinks he’d be a bit more graceful. By the time he rolls unceremoniously into the shallow pool, his palms are all scraped up and bleeding. He doesn’t care; barely feels the sting. He’s not really feeling much of anything at this point, head spinning out of control.

Laying like this on his back, head propped up against the ledge of the pool, Kylo gazes up at the jagged rock ceiling. His lungs crackle as he heaves in breaths, heart still pounding loudly. It’s hard to hear anything else, and he wonders again if his attackers are closing in on him. Does it even matter? His dying mind questions. He doesn’t have an opportunity to think of a retort before his body finally breaks, and he succumbs to the drug induced sleep.

—————————————————————

You wake to the familiar sounds of distant crashing waves, whistling wind, and calls of seagulls. After years on the island, the noise was a comfort.

You’d grown up here, in this same cottage by the sea--been raised fishing, hunting for mussels, searching through tide pools. You and your siblings would bike into town to sell your wares at the local market before heading down to the pier to watch the boats come and go. It was a simple life, sometimes a little isolated, but it was good nonetheless. You loved the island and the ocean, and held great respect for them both. If you honor them, they will honor you--at least, that’s what your mother always said.

Your siblings grew up and moved to the mainland, but still you stayed. Got yourself a little apartment in town above the local grocery, worked at the marina as a clerk, and visited your parents on the weekends. When your mother passed, your father followed just weeks later—a broken heart, everyone said. Suddenly, your beloved little slice of heaven—of home—belonged to you.

So you moved back into the cottage you grew up in, a place haunted by the ghosts of memories and the sounds of the sea. If you’re being honest with yourself, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, no matter how many times you pretend to entertain your siblings’ urging to rent the place out. Think of all the money you’d make. It’s the perfect vacation spot.

Maybe so, but you don’t care. You don’t want strangers in your home—not those tourists who come to fawn over the village, who eat up the landscape with cameras without really seeing it, who gawk at the fishermen, who laugh at the prices at the market. They would probably call your cottage quaint and cute. You could picture them tittering over your family photos on the mantle, over the door frame where heights had been marked over the years.

Tourists, who both long for and pity an isolated life on the ocean. Oh, they have it so easy here, away from the stress of the city. Oh, could you imagine living this way, barely scraping by?

No, you didn’t want them in your home, a place so sacred. You didn’t care what money you were missing out on—you got by fine with your pay from the marina, and picking up shifts at the local cafe. You loved your cottage—savored every creaky floorboard, every leaky windowsill. The drip of the bathroom faucet, the howl of the sea wind through the chimney—these were the sounds of familiarity, of safety. No one would appreciate them like you did.

Twisting around in bed, you turn your gaze towards the open window that was letting in a fresh, salty breeze. It was early, the light still dim and grey, the air a little chilly. It makes you want to curl back up under your covers, catch a couple more hours of shut-eye. It was your day off, after all; you could afford to sleep in.

Except.

You sigh, scrubbing your hands over your face as you remember what your yesterday brain had planned. You’d told yourself you’d get up in order to gather mussels at low tide. There were plenty of tide pools around, especially in the caved area of the cove. It was your family’s little secret—the hidden grotto was all but invisible from the outside. The only reason you even knew about it was because your brother had been too adventurous for his own good as a child, always getting into places he shouldn’t.

Mussels, clams, seaweed, probably fish in the deeper tide pools—maybe some sea urchin you could sell at the market. Your stomach growls.

Well, that’s that.

Groaning, you haul yourself up and out of bed, wincing at the cold hardwood on your bare feet. You bounce on your toes, shivering, goosebumps appearing on your skin as you pad over to close the window. Despite growing up here, you were always surprised at the temperature. You stubbornly let in the breeze at night, all bundled up under your covers, pretending when you woke it would be nice and warm.

But nope, not here; even in the dead of summer the mornings were chilly. Sometimes you dreamed that you lived on one of those big, luxurious, heated beaches—hot sun and white sand as far as the eye could see, no craggy cliffs or rocky shores. Eh. You probably wouldn’t like it much anyway, too used to your own environment.

Glancing at the clock, you quickly throw on some warm clothes, half-assing your regular morning routine before grabbing your tide-pool hunting essentials: a flashlight, knee-high waders, a large bucket, and your trusty fishing knife. You take a deep breath at the front door, bracing yourself for the chill. Just think of the feast you’ll have later. And you can reward yourself with a hot bath and long nap.

It’s not too long a distance from the cottage to the rocky shoreline, and while the low tide has revealed the tempting sand leading towards the rolling waves, you head towards the jagged outcropping to the left. Years of following the same path means it doesn’t take you long at all to find the hidden entrance and carefully make your way into the cavern.

In the middle of a sunny day, light shone in through various cracks in the ceiling, glinting off the water and creating flickering reflections against the stone walls. Sometimes you came here just to think, or to take a dip in the largest pool. The water was always warmer here, protected from the full power of the currents by the rock face.

Now, however, it was dark—only the dimmest bit of grey morning light trickled in. You flick on the flashlight, humming softly to yourself. The melody echoes off the stone walls, and you set your bucket down at the closest tide pool, readying yourself to hunker down and get to work. The beam of the light scans the various pools as you turn to get your knife from its holder, and something catches your eye. It’s not much, and honestly if you weren’t so familiar with the cave you probably wouldn’t have noticed the dark shape in the far corner pool.

At first, you do a double take, eyes sweeping over the little red-tinged puddles on the floor. Blood. You grip your knife, mind racing with possibilities. Was there someone in here with you? Surely not. No one ever came out here. Swallowing hard, you take a couple steps towards the corner, torch in one hand and knife in the other. As you get closer, your gaze tracks the diluted blood trail into the pool, and at first all you notice is the black scales and fins of a fish. The grip on your knife loosens just a little, the fear of a possible threat fading.

It's a big animal, you can tell that even as you make your way over, and you wonder idly how it got in. You knew, logically, that the cave connected to the ocean somehow, but you can't imagine the tide being so high for a fish as large as this one to find its way into the back corner. You’re focused on this conundrum as you round the ledge that’s been shielding the animal from your full view--so much so that it takes you more than a couple moments for your mind to compute just what it's seeing.

The tail is thick and muscular, decorated in obsidian scales that lead to delicate looking fins at the bottom. There were smaller, fan looking fins on the sides of the tail--they were all ripped up, as if they had been torn in previous fights. Your brain clocks all of this in seconds but doesn’t dwell, because it’s focused on the top half of the animal--creature--merman.

Merman. A fucking merman.

The ebony scales at the waist fade seamlessly into pale skin and lean muscle, revealing a long, firm torso. If you weren’t so aware of the tail, you might--might--think he could pass for human. Well, except for the webbed fingers and razor-sharp nails adorning each of his hands. He’s half submerged in the water of the pool, dark hair covering part of his face so you can’t see it.

You stand there, frozen, staring, not quite knowing what to do. You weren’t… scared; weren’t even very surprised aside from the initial shock of seeing him. You’d grown up hearing stories, traditions, tales—it was more than folklore here on the island. Some of the elders believed in merfolk more than ghosts, more than aliens, more than god.

Mr. Mackenzie told tales of mermaids luring in his shipmates as prey, drowning them. You always thought they were just stories designed to scare children away from dangerous tides—and maybe they were. But other accounts, you weren’t so sure of.

It was the wonder on Ms. Fraser’s face when she recounted the long-ago memory of swimming along sandbars with a girl who could breathe underwater. It was the quiet reverence of Mr. McDougall’s voice when he whispered about removing an old fish hook from a merman’s tail. It was the tears in Mrs. Buchanan’s eyes when she insisted merfolk rescued her husband from a fishing boat wreck.

You believed them. You always had, even if you’d done it silently, bashfully. You knew those who still made offerings to the ocean and to the beings that dwelled within the depths. Your island community believed in things not seen, but passed down through generations of storytelling. It was your history, kept alive despite first hand encounters becoming few and far between.

Except, here it was—your own little slice of history, right in front of you. If you took a couple more steps, you could reach out and touch it.

Is he breathing?

The little voice in your head brings you back down to your body, and a sudden fear overtakes you. You can’t let him die—if he was even still alive to begin with. You glance nervously at the pinkish trail of blood leading to the pool; the sight makes you reach some sort of resolve.

Hyper-aware of the claws on his hands, you kneel down beside him, hesitating only briefly before you settle your hand on his large bicep. He doesn’t stir, and your stomach twists unpleasantly. Your hand slides down to his wrist, and while you can admit you aren’t an expert on merfolk anatomy, surely you’ll be able to feel a pulse from the spidery blue veins under his pale skin.

Relief washes over you in a wave when you do, indeed, find a pulse—slow, but strong. Okay, not dead then. Still, he doesn’t move, so you take it upon yourself to move his damp hair out of his face, curling it behind his prominent ears.

He’s handsome.

You feel yourself flush, immediately chastising yourself for the thought. This was—best case scenario—a complete stranger who was wounded and in possible danger. Worst case scenario… you didn’t want to think about. Needless to say, it was no time to be thinking about his level of attractiveness.

You force yourself back into action, cupping his head as you hold your hand under his nose. His breathing is steady, and you gently lay his head back where it rested on the rock ledge. Your fingertips brush against something, and you frown as you realize he has a lump on the back of his skull—as if he’s been hit. You can only hope it hasn’t done too serious damage; it wasn’t like you could really take him to the hospital.

Your attention moves down his body, and you make yourself bypass the gills in his neck in order to properly gauge his wounds. Minor cuts and scrapes littered his skin; from the number of scars decorating his form, you figure these aren’t a big deal, no matter how nasty they look. Not compared to the gash on his side, at least.

You wince when you see it, the delicate flesh torn open and ragged. The cut makes you think it’s from some man-made weapon, and you shake your head in disbelief. Who would want to harm a merman? Around here, it would be blasphemous to do such a thing.

Blood no longer seeps from the wound; you hope that’s a good sign—and that the salt water has somewhat cleaned the area. You think it may have needed stitches, but you’re no doctor with the ability to do such a procedure. If you're being honest with yourself, it’s probably far too late for stitches anyway. The wound would be another nasty scar, likely similar to the one marring his face, but the area isn’t red with infection. That’s a good sign, right?

You sigh, feeling helpless. You want to do something for the creature. There’s only one thing you can really think of. Chewing on your bottom lip, you study his face again. He still seems unresponsive, and you can only hope he stays that way a little longer.

The short trek back up to your home feels the longest it’s ever been, and your legs and lungs are burning by the time you rush through the front door, having run the entire way. You heave in breaths as you pack some supplies into a bag. It wasn’t much, but you should be able to use the waterproof gauze and antibiotic ointment to dress the nasty-looking scrapes on his hands and chest.

You hesitate for a moment before going into your bathroom and grabbing the waterproof pillow you had in the tub. Maybe it was silly, but you hated thinking about him lying on the hard ground for fuck knows how long. You almost grab some food for him—maybe the fish currently thawing in your fridge—but you decide not to. You weren’t sure what he ate, and there was no telling when he’d wake up anyway.

Your breathing has just settled back to normal by the time you’re jogging back to the cave, careful not to slip on any of the wet grass and rocks. The sun starts to peak out of the morning clouds, letting pale beams of light warm the grey morning. The cavern is illuminated slightly better when you enter; you find you can lay the flashlight at a distance and see just fine.

The merman is still asleep, and you feel a little relieved. You aren’t exactly sure what will happen when he wakes up—for all you know, you’ll return later in the day to find him gone. As it is, you plop down next to the pool he was in and get to work patching him up the best you can.

Taking the towel you brought with you, you dab at his scrapes, trying to dry them a little before applying the ointment and then carefully using the gauze to cover the wounds. His palms are so torn up that you wrap them completely, your brows knitted the entire time. It must hurt, but still, he doesn’t stir.

Finally, you’re left with the gash in his side. You debate with yourself as to whether you should cover it or not—if you even can. The front of his torso was out of the water with the way he was laying, but that could change at any second, and any real pressure on his body would cause him to sink into the pool.

Your urge to help him wins out in the end, and you decide you’ll try to bandage it to protect it from any further irritation, despite knowing water would seep in regardless. You lean forward, extra careful not to lose your balance as you pat at his pale skin with the towel once more. It’s an awkward angle and slow work, you trying your best to be gentle with him.

You add as much ointment as you dare to the bandaging, not wanting to put too much onto an open wound, before fixing the gauze to his torso with some waterproof medical tape. There. Sure, it wasn’t going to work a miracle but at this point you weren’t sure what else to do.

He’ll be okay, you tell yourself. He’ll be okay.

You take a moment to watch the rise and fall of his chest, reassured by the movement. Your gaze again drifts to his tail in fascination—you hope that, maybe, you’ll come back later and he’ll be awake. Maybe he’ll be friendly, maybe the two of you can talk. It’s illogical, you know. This wasn’t some fairytale, this was real life. You honestly just hoped he didn’t try to rip you to shreds on sight.

It’s with this thought in mind that you shift away from him, telling yourself you can’t sit and watch him all day. You have several other pools to collect mussels from, breakfast to cook, chores to do. You’ve done enough, and you have to trust that his body will do the rest—you refuse to entertain the idea that he might not make it.

Sighing, you pull yourself further away, but then remember the pillow you’d brought along. You grab it quickly before shuffling back towards him. He’s got a large lump of seaweed shoved haphazardly under his head in what you assume was a desperate attempt to soften the rock face underneath.

His damp hair is surprisingly soft when you gently lift his head to clear the ground of debris. You can’t help but run your fingers through it gently, brushing it behind his ears, almost trying to soothe his subconscious. You settle the small foam pillow in place, and slowly let his head and neck rest against it. You hope it makes some sort of difference, though you know it might be a childish thought.

Your task finished, you force yourself away from him once more, even though you suddenly ache to continue touching him. Picking up your things, you continue on your mission of prying mussels from each tidepool. You move slower and quieter than you normally would, shooting the merman furtive glances every few seconds.

By the time you’re finished with the last pool, you can’t find an excuse to linger any longer. He was as safe as he was going to be. The only thing left to do now was wait. You spare your new charge one last lingering look, then grab your things and head back to the house.

______________________________________________________________

taglist friends!

@leatherboundbirate @fathersonandhouseofgucci @paper-n-ashes @direnightshade @jynzandtonic @glassbxttless @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @hopeamarsu @mariesackler @millenialcatlady @sacklerscumrag @peachyproserpina @cornmousequeen @eagerforhoney @icarusinthesea @heartofjakku

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x fem!reader #kylo ren x afab!reader #kylo ren #kylo ren fic #merman!kylo #merman au #multi chapter #tori writes #feedback always welcome & appreciated!

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katzkinder · 3 years

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London Bridge Is Falling Down

Envy Pair version of my Counting Sheep series! Himiko is my headcanon for the name of Mikuni's mother. Since Mikuni's name contains the character for "kingdom," I thought this name belonging to an ancient queen suited his mother well.

Mikuni is annoying.

That’s something Jeje has always known, ever since Mikuni was a child, ever since the first time he saw him, bounding around his mother’s skirts and throwing himself into Lily’s arms to be held and cuddled and fawned over while Jeje had slunk back to the cellars. Himiko had been so bright, back then, the rot of Envy not yet showing in a visible way, that tiny baby that would grow into his brother’s Eve gurgling happily in her arms.

Jeje was the one who had found him. Himiko had wept when she saw him, all the anger and hate leaving her at once, vanishing as if it never existed when she laid her eyes on the fragile little bundle, swaddled in soft fabrics with little gloves on his impossibly tiny hands. She had sobbed all the harder when she took the crying child from him, her hands shaking while she cradled him close, useless apologies spilling from her pretty lips. The body of the babe’s mother had rapidly been growing cold on the carpet, and little Misono… Would remember none of it.

(Jeje remembered all of it, though. He doesn’t think a single moment will ever fade from his mind, no matter how many eons pass)

As Mikuni had grown, with Jeje watching over him as a silent, imposing, guardian angel, always behind the boy’s mother while she had read bedtime stories to him, always so aware of those bright, bright, too bright eyes, Jeje had also become aware of a number of other things, and those things remained true into adulthood. Mikuni has all of his mother’s gorgeous looks (and some from his father, but admitting as such is just asking to be choked), her stubborn brightness, her sharp tongue and wit, but more than any of that...

Mikuni is annoying.

...Because he never listens to what’s good for him. Just like his mother before him, he had taken Jeje despite his warnings, and some bitter, sick part of Jeje had wanted him to. The same part of him that had given in to Himiko herself.

But, well, he��d always known Mikuni never listened, too.

He wonders if Lily knows, though he doubts that he’s aware, of those golden afternoons when Mikuni would sneak down to his hiding place and find him lurking near the boilers, the excited, terrified whispers of Lily’s children, his human children, chasing after the young heir as he confidently hopped down, step by step, into the “monster’s” lair.

They had talked. About nothing. About everything. Well, actually, Mikuni had talked, seemingly not caring that Jeje never said much back, incredible and beautiful and… Well, there was a reason everyone called Mikuni brilliant.

Jeje knew better, though.

***

The most annoying thing about Mikuni, in his opinion, is not how loud he is. It’s not his contrariness, or his capriciousness, or his constant, gnawing curiosity causing him to make mischief.

The most annoying thing about Mikuni was how badly he wanted people to think he was naturally good at everything.

See, Mikuni was smart. Jeje would give him that. But he was also very stupid. It wasn’t as if he lacked common sense, though sometimes Jeje wondered, but it was like Mikuni wanted people to resent him.

More than anyone Jeje had ever met, his Eve was a hard worker. Someone who hated owing others a single damn thing. It was that useless pride and sense of responsibility for things that couldn’t possibly be Mikuni’s fault, things Jeje suspected, no matter how much he denied it, Mikuni had learned, had internalized, from his father and from Lily, that was why Jeje refused to call Mikuni brilliant like everyone else.

...But he did shine. Like a candle in a darkened room. Like a beacon. Warm, and inviting, someone to warm himself beside, even knowing that that flame would burn him up, just like a moth.

The question was... Who would that flame melt into nothing first?

Jeje would be damned twice over if he let it be his Eve.

Turning away from way he had been watching the other man work late hours, hunched over Nod’s ledgers and planners and Mikuni’s own personal notebooks, where his pen scratched across the surfaces of each calculating profits, expenses, bills, new products and designs and promotions and planning trips, Jeje silently makes his way to their kitchen.

Burning the midnight oil just means you won’t have any left when you truly need it.

A snort, reaching for their cabinets. Of course, that’s what Mikuni had him for.

***

He’s gotten very good at brewing tea. Jeje isn’t much of a chef at all, but living with Mikuni for so long, it was practically guaranteed he’d learn to at least make a semi-decent cup, and thank god he had. He would have truly killed Mikuni by now if he hadn’t, he swears, the man is just as persnickety about his tea as Lily is with his coffee.

...He’s also gained a new appreciation for the stuff, but maybe that comes with the territory of spending hours upon hours listening to Mikuni’s one sided argument about the best ways to drink it. It’s hard not to be impressed with all the little details that goes into brewing what’s considered a perfect cup (by Mikuni’s standards, anyway), and even harder still to not feel a fondness for something that draws such genuine passion out of his once charge, now equal.

...It’s such an odd thought. He knows what people think. That Mikuni has always had a stranglehold on him. That Mikuni has always been in charge. That Mikuni has always been someone… Grown up.

Again. Jeje knows better.

He sets the temperature on their electric kettle, one purchased on one of their many visits to the British Isles, sits at their kitchen table, and waits. Thinks.

Mikuni has been grown up for a long time now. And he will continue to grow, and people will continue to think, no matter Jeje’s efforts, that he is a no good, conniving schemer who would sacrifice them all on a wish and a prayer and something like a maybe.

And, well, perhaps they aren’t wrong. Perhaps Jeje is a fool. But if he’s a fool, he’s a court jester, and as court jester he will make absolutely certain this time that the king does not make his mistakes without someone there to make fun of him for it, even if only behind closed doors, even if only between the two of them.

To everyone else, he is a dictator’s executioner, and that’s fine with him. Everyone else doesn’t matter.

His eyes drift to Mikuni’s favorite cup, one made of glass and painted with delicate, swooping strokes of gold, with lilies and a taupe lacquer surrounding all but a window through which one could admire the lovely colors of their favored drink. He takes it into his hands, so much larger than this tiny cup, and finds himself smiling as he turns the joint birthday gift from the Lust pair over and around, admires those intricate, fancy details that speak of quality and knowing down to the letter exactly what Mikuni’s tastes are.

Well.

Almost everyone.

***

The teapot has been warmed, the kettle filled with mineral water and piping hot, and by the time Jeje finishes steeping the loose leaf tea, their little kitchen clock, kitschy and cute and shaped like a cartoon chicken hatching from an egg, reads 2:17 in the morning.

Jeje picks up the cup, the container of melatonin supplements Mikuni has taken since he was twenty at his Servamp’s behest, and carefully carries both back to where he knows the other man will still be completely absorbed in his work.

True to form, Mikuni is still at it. The predictability of his late night, sleepless habits, of his need to do something with his time, makes Jeje’s frown deepen, ever so slightly.

He wishes Mikuni would just rest. Close his eyes, not do anything, just lie there and let Jeje guard him, just be still, be quiet, like did when he was a child.

… He knows better than to think a mind as stubborn and that moves as fast as his Eve’s could ever achieve that, but he can dream. He can also just sicc the Lust pair on him.

That’ll put him to bed real fast.

“What’re you grinning about over there?”

He startles, not having expected Mikuni to acknowledge his presence, and nearly sloshes hot chamomile with lavender onto the pretty little matching saucer that accompanied the cup. It’s a miracle it didn’t fall over completely. Jeje lets out a breath, so quiet it’s inaudible, and curses himself for forgetting that Mikuni can see him right now.

Then again, even if he was wearing his mask, Mikuni would have seen right through him.

He always does.

His Eve is watching him still, waiting for him to move, and then his eyes flick down to what Jeje has in his hands. His lips twist.

Jeje ignores it and continues to make his way over to where Mikuni had been peacefully working. They don’t speak a word to one another, and no sooner than Jeje sets his cargo down, he’s going back the way he came, knowing it’s useless to try and ply Mikuni with words or favors.

The man is annoying in his stubbornness, too.

He hears a sniff behind him, the scratch of pen on paper once more, but it isn’t long before that little noise stops again. A sigh. Jeje chances peering around the doorframe, smiling, just a tad, as a clearly frustrated Mikuni slaps his pen down onto the counter and picks up his cup, no doubt tempted by the smell of his favorite night time blend.

A swallow. Two.

Mikuni unscrews the lid on the melatonin gummies. Pops a couple into his mouth. Chews, and swallows. The tension leaves his shoulders. He allows himself to savor the warmth in his hands.

Jeje leaves him be and heads upstairs to their room, knowing Mikuni now won’t be far behind.

“Jeje,” Mikuni calls after him, voice soft in that way it sometimes, ever so rarely gets, so quiet Jeje almost misses it. “... You still really suck at this.”

Mikuni is annoying.

#kat's katerwauling #servamp #jekuni #servamp jeje #mikuni alicein #pawprints #it's done!#it's late but it's done!

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nobodyfamousposts · 3 years

Text

BURN THE WITCH! - Part 8

Finally! It is finished.

Also...warnings I guess for itchiness. And severe scratching due to itchiness.

Here goes:

Lila was prideful. Exceedingly so. But let it not be said she was too prideful to know when it was time to jump ship.

And the ship that was Paris was sinking fast.

All thanks to Ladybug, of course. Because “Little Miss Righteousness” just had to stick her nose into Lila’s business. How dare that insect make a fool out of her?

She would have had to leave soon anyway. While she could certainly come up with a new story to fool her classmates and explain away the previous unfortunate incident, it would still be difficult since they were starting to wise up and it would be harder to keep them under her thumb if she stayed much longer. While the akuma had been dealt with and everyone’s memories erased, Lila didn’t want to take any chances.

Then there was the matter with Hawk Moth. She had some suspicion of his identity—but that was all it was: suspicion. The evidence she had to go on was circumstantial at best. Unless she could find something to confirm it, it was useless. And even if she was right, there wasn’t much likelihood that she would be able to make use of it without proof.

She clenched her fists in growing rage at the reminder.

How dare he turn on her like that?!

There was something that grated at her knowing that she would be leaving things unfinished. That she would be letting him get away unscathed. She at least wanted to get some sort of payback for him leaving her to dry.

If there was any real justice in the world, she would get the chance to try and take his Miraculous for herself. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Especially after how he had cut ties with her.

But now he would expect her to try something. He may even try to take her out himself first. It was what Lila would do in his place.

No, it was better to cut her losses. She still had the an exemplary school record. She still had her position and experience as a model to take with her. She could just move somewhere new and start over. There was nothing worth staying in Paris for anyway. She was getting bored here.

Her decision had absolutely nothing to do with Ladybug’s threat though! Ladybug was clearly the one jealous of her! She wasn’t scared of that pathetic little bug! She was too much of a goody-goody to actually do anything to Lila herself! Ladybug was supposed to be held to a higher standard, after all! She was just bluffing! She wouldn’t actually do anything to her! So Lila had no reason to be scared! And she wasn’t!

It took a moment for Lila to realize her hand holding the phone was trembling. She bit back a curse and clutched the hand with the other to hide it and force the them to still. But when that didn’t work, she set the phone on speaker before putting it on its stand on the table.

Lila’s mother, bless her, was ignorant of this inner turmoil—or if she was aware, she simply attributed it to Lila’s claims. The woman was all too willing to blindly trust her precious daughter. All Lila had to do was use that and soon Paris and all its problems would be nothing but a bad memory.

She busied with drying her hair with a towel while regaling her mother with the tale of the latest attack—albeit a heavily edited version. Honestly though, wasn’t that stupid Cure of Ladybug’s supposed to fix everything to how it was before the attack? So shouldn’t she have been dry already? And back in her new designer clothes?

As it was, her fall in the Seine had left her hair a mess, and she barely had time to simply wash it properly, much less take the good long soak she really craved. She was fortunate enough that there had been time to return home and try to clean up at all. And especially to get rid of those clothes she had “borrowed“ from Marinette’s home. The last thing she needed was to be seen running around in that. Not that there was anything wrong with the clothes themselves, but questions would no doubt arise as to where she had gotten them or why she was wearing them. And the last thing she needed was for her mother and Marinette of all people to meet.

After a moment of consideration, she twisted the towel just enough to cause her pain. With a hiss and a gasp, it sounded quite like she had been crying. Enough to fool someone who was not physically there at any rate.

“I just miss Home. It’s been so long.” She said, ending with a sniffle that may have been partly exaggerated and may have been partly a sign of a cold coming on.

“But what about your friends? You just seemed to be getting so settled in Paris. You even have a boyfriend. From what you’ve been telling me, you two are awfully close. You have a difficult enough time seeing each other as it is. Won’t moving just make it worse?”

Geez, the woman was being annoyingly persistent today.

“We can write and video chat.” Lila replied easily. She could just “break it off” later. Maybe claim he’d been cheating on her. That was usually good for some sympathy points.

Her mother paused at that. “But long distance relationships are much more difficult. And I thought you liked it in Paris? You’ve been doing so well here. I hadn’t seen you so happy in a long time.”

Of course she’d been happy. She had people devoted to her every whim, fame and connections as a model, and a cushy front row seat to the downfall of that so-called hero.

Lila narrowly avoided clicking her tongue in irritation. Why did her mother have to be so parentally concerned now of all times?

“But Mom, I’m just worried about all of the akumas!” She said with exaggerated earnesty. “This last one was really dangerous! I could have been killed!” She bit her lip and hitched her breath, as if trying to hold back tears. Or hide her lack of them. It was a good thing her mother wasn’t there to see and possibly call her out on it.

Not that she would. She was such a good mother like that. Overly trusting and easily duped. How many teenagers could say they were so lucky?

“I’ve tried to make the best of Paris, but it’s just too much!” Lila cried.

“Oh, my poor dear!” Came her mothers’s voice over the phone. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize how much this move has had an effect on you.”

In that instant, she knew she had good as won. From the safety of her home and with no one in direct sight, Lila allowed herself a smug grin of victory before schooling her expression back to that of the pitiful child she wanted the older woman to see her as. No one may have been there to see it, but as an avid actress of her skill level, it helped her to match her desired tone and inflection with an appropriate expression. She gasped loudly and grabbed the phone to bring it closer to her.

“But Mom, I know how important this job is to you! I don’t want to get in the way...”

“It’s all right, dear. I can contact your aunt and have you stay with her and your cousins until I can finish things here.”

That made her frown.

Lila’s aunt was...not ideal, as her cousins had been among the earlier victims of Lila’s manipulations. She dared say her aunt favored her over any of her children by the time she’d left them. And her cousins were wary of her to say the least after the way she had played them against each other and themselves. But that had been a couple of years ago and she couldn’t be sure they hadn’t caught on and solidified their relationships to better counter her.

Still, if Paris was any indication of how easily people could be fooled and turned against one another, she could probably manage it again.

“Lila?” Her mother called, drawing her attention back. “Are you all right?”

Lila played up the uncertainty. “I don’t know…I wouldn’t want to cause you or Auntie trouble…I can just stay here.” She looked down and to the side and spoke tonelessly, the picture of a dejected daughter. “I’m sure I can just try to put my fear aside and make the best of it…”

“Nonsense!” Her mother exclaimed. “You should never have to make yourself suffer like that!”

There was the sound of papers being shifted, followed by the clicking of a mouse. No doubt her mother was already looking into the procedure on how to transfer.

“I only want you to be safe and well, mi bella.” Her mother said, softly. “And if Paris isn’t the best fit for you, then I’ll discuss the matter with the Embassy and see about ending my assignment early.”

“But Mom, you don’t have to! I can manage, really!” She half-heartedly attempted. “The heroes are even starting to do a…half-way decent job.”

Her mother scoffed. “A job that they have been at for over a year and still can’t manage! It’s clearly not safe here if the city’s own heroes can’t even do their jobs properly.”

Hook.

“But let’s get you taken out of that school first.”

Line.

Lila smirked, unseen.

“Thank you, Mom.”

Sinker.

__________________

Another loss. And a worse one, even.

Witch Hunter had been ruthless and efficient. Perhaps one of his better creations to date. Her powers to know one’s sins and enthrall anyone who heard her announcements soon gained her the entirety of Paris under her sway—and by extension, his. That the powers specifically targeted one girl would have been a disadvantage had the girl in question not had such a…sordid history. That history fortunately gave plenty of opportunities to rally others to the cause, but as evidenced from the fight, it still had limitations.

If only Lila had some ounce of subtlety. Then even Ladybug would have been affected by Witch Hunter, and both Miraculous would have been willingly handed over to him if it meant getting rid of the girl in exchange. The key had been that Ladybug’s opinion of Lila had already been so low that no “reveal” of her misdeeds had been enough to enthrall her.

How curious. He had been aware of Lila’s grudge against Ladybug, but he hadn’t realized that the feelings were mutual. Just what had Lila done to make Ladybug despise her so?

He could hazard a guess, but not any that would lead him anywhere. Lila’s list of crimes was rather extensive. And despite the knowledge he had of her, even he couldn’t boast immunity to the rage.

So what had kept Ladybug from giving up on her?

Was it Ladybug’s Miraculous that protected her? Some sort of inner strength? Or was she already aware of his use of Lila? But even if she was aware, how would that be enough?

He had been able to keep his head, but some of the things he heard had been enough to turn his stomach and make him question his alliance with her. He had been accepting at first of her audacity in how she approached him on both sides of the mask, as she presented herself as useful and willing to aid him. And she had been useful, he would give her that. Her main concern was having others under her sway and she was willing to do anything to maintain it…even remove anyone who would become a threat to her.

He hadn’t lied when he told Lila she was of no more use to him. But that hadn’t been the entire truth. Given what he now realized, she was more of a threat than he had ever considered. He couldn’t put it past her to try to figure out his identity to take his Miraculous for herself.

He took a breath.

Perhaps...he needed to reconsider the girl’s position? On both sides of the mask.

“Sir? What should be done about Lila Rossi?” While the interruption from Nathalie was timely, it didn’t truly disrupt his current thought process.

It was a good question. She had been a willing ally and useful tool in manipulating people. He certainly had praise for her skills.

But...

Perhaps he should have been more cautious and try to question just how she obtained those skills?

As well as her intentions for the future. For himself and especially for his son.

How much did she know? Had she discovered him? Did she suspect? What plans did she have? And now that she had been revealed as a willing ally, what information could others get out of her that could lead back to him?

Lila Rossi was a threat. He could see that now.

But just how much of a risk was she? How much did he risk if she were allowed to remain free? It was clear Ladybug knew of their alliance, and she would be keeping an eye on the girl from here on out. What else could she gain from Lila if he didn’t remove her?

“Sir?”

He paused, considering for a moment.

Then came to a decision.

“Nothing.”

Nathalie started at that in surprise.

“Her contract with the company will be terminated, of course.” He stated, turning to go to his desk and prepare to sign the necessary paperwork. “The company will put out an official statement that we deny any knowledge of her history or dealings, and that we disavow her actions. Anything else is already held under a nondisclosure agreement she signed upon her hiring. Though we should prepare legal action if she attempts to retaliate.”

“But…what should be done about her assistance to you as Hawk Moth?” Nathalie asked.

He straightened.

“Nothing.” He repeated. And he did not like to repeat himself.

“Sir? Is that wise? She has been an accomplice.” She warned him with a frown. “What if she has learned who you are? She could become dangerous.”

He sighed.

“She is a loose thread. But to act on it at this point and try to remove her will only backfire. Ladybug will doubtless be keeping an eye on her from now on. We would risk more if we were caught trying to get rid of her.”

“But since you left her to Witch Hunter’s mercy, she may try to retaliate against you.”

Oh, of that he had little doubt. It was in her nature to turn on those who would not play by her rules.

He had little choice at that point. Witch Hunter and all of Paris were focused solely on seeing the girl punished. He had no way of knowing Ladybug wasn’t already part of the crowd by that time. His mistake was underestimating Ladybug’s will, but even then, would he really have responded differently?

Lila Rossi had lost her use as a tool, and with her antics had used up any good will he had towards her. She lacked the subtlety or even the good sense to simply limit the extent of her lies lest she be found out and face backlash. But much like Miss Bourgeois, she seemed inclined to push the limits of what she could get away with. And unfortunately, with superheroes and villains in Paris, the bounds of what she could normally get away with had increased drastically. Even worse was that she fully seemed to believe she ‘deserved’ the praise and attention simply for claiming things she had never done.

And given how one of her first actions was to buy a trinket to pass off as a false Miraculous and proclaim herself a hero, how long would it have taken for her to decide that she ‘deserved’ a Miraculous as well?

“It was only a matter of time before she set her sights too high. It would be better to cut her off now before she got any ideas about taking a Miraculous, even if it was my own.”

He couldn’t put it past her. Because as much as she despised Ladybug, how could such a girl be satisfied only with her destruction? If she did aid in Ladybug’s defeat, she’d likely just take the Ladybug Miraculous for herself at the first opportunity, and then Gabriel would be back at square one.

No, worse. Because Lila Rossi wouldn’t risk herself for others. It was highly likely she would run away with the Miraculous and then he would lose any chance of obtaining it in this lifetime.

…

Lila Rossi had her uses, but it was best to cut his losses with her now. And Witch Hunter had been the prime time to do so.

It would have been foolish of him to risk his hold over Witch Hunter just to spare Lila at that point. But there was no doubt that she will seek retribution for it. She was certainly spiteful enough, even when it would be to her own detriment.

Still…

“That girl has caused enough problems. We don’t need her interfering with our plans.“

Nathalie clutched her tablet, still worried. “But if she knows…if she tries to reveal you…”

“Lila Rossi is a liar.” He stated as he pulled up news footage of the latest akuma fight. “She is a liar and now people know it. Anything she thinks she knows, we can dismiss as a jilted teenager with delusions of grandeur and an unhealthy interest in my son.”

He paused for a moment, then leaned back in his chair to look to his assistant.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the tale of the ‘Boy Who Cried Wolf’?”

“I am familiar with it, yes.” She replied, albeit confused as to the sudden subject change. “But what does that have to do with this?”

“In the story, the boy is eaten. But his final claim is ultimately proven true, for all the good it does him.” He looked back to the footage, pausing it on Lila’s expression while she was on the pyre.

“But if we do not respond…if Hawk Moth does nothing to silence her, there is no ‘proof’ to her claims. People will suspect it to be another lie. Even moreso, that it’s merely an attempt to get back at me as her ‘former employer’. There will be no ‘wolf’ to validate her claims, even once she’s gone. So yes, we will leave Miss Rossi to her daily life. Let her say what she may think she knows.”

He smirked.

“She could scream it to the world and no one would believe her.”

__________________

It took a while for them to have their conversation and for Marinette to dry her tears. By the time she was able to reach some level of calm, it was almost time to return to school.

One would think that they would be allowed the rest of the day to recover from the akuma attack, but Paris as a whole and the school in particular seemed used to the frequent interruptions by this point. Though perhaps it was more of a testament to Ladybug’s efficiency in dealing with akumas.

…as well as the efficiency of the civilians to set up an entire festival on a spur of the moment. Perhaps she should recommend they try another one at some point? One that doesn’t involve lighting anyone on fire?

When she went downstairs, she found her parents in something of a state of worry. They looked up in surprise when she came down, but were relieved to see her.

“Marinette? When did you get home? I didn’t see you come in.” Tom said.

“A little while ago. We must have just missed each other.” Marinette replied quickly. Then frowned when she notice their expressions. “Is everything okay?”

“There was an akuma attack earlier and one of your schoolmates came here.” Sabine explained. “We had tried to help her and allowed her to change clothes here into something dry, but she took it upon herself to go into your room.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “What?!”

“I don’t know what she was doing in there.” Sabine huffed, angrily. “When I caught her, she tried to claim she had gotten lost. Then your father had gotten a text message from Nadja about a ‘Witch’ and she took off running.”

Lila. There was no one else it could have been. Which meant she had probably done something to sabotage her.

Great. Just great.

They had checked her room and taken pictures of how she left it since they were uncertain of what she may have messed with. As it stood, they wanted to know if anything had been stolen and were questioning whether to call the police.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Her father told her.

“We both are. She was soaked and we had wanted to give her some privacy while she changed.” Sabine shook her head. “I hadn’t thought she would go roaming around the house, much less sneak into your room.”

Tom rested a hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “We should follow up on this though. Maybe Roger will have some advice.”

Sabine nodded to him before turning to her daughter. “Will that be all right, dear?”

Marinette hesitated.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t frustrated. With them. With the situation. All of it.

In their defense, they hadn’t realized it was Lila. And even if they had, they weren’t aware of just how horrible Lila truly was. Despite Marinette’s pleas of innocence during her expulsion, her parents hadn’t fully taken her word for it and even afterwards hadn’t quite believed that Lila was a chronic liar.

But there was a part of her—the part that was still full of indignant anger over the incident and would have formed the core of the Princess Justice akuma Hawk Moth had wanted her to be—that blamed them. If they had just listened to her back then. If they had simply heard her out. If they had believed her about Lila.

They should have known. They should have recognized Lila. They should have remembered what she had done before and at the very least thought to keep an eye on her just in case she tried anything like she had before.

…but Marinette didn’t have it in her to hold a grudge. Especially after what she had seen with Lila and her own grudge.

It wasn’t their fault, it was Lila’s. And while she was irritated with her parents for their negligence, she was willing to forgive them and keep her focus on the one who really deserved her ire.

So for now, she would try to move forward and do what she could.

“I’m not happy about it. But if anything can be done, I’d like to see if we could.”

Her parents agreed and offered reassurances that they would try to address the issue. They also promised her they would be more cautious in the future, which was nice fo them. They offered to let her stay home from school, but that was one thing she had to turn down.

Whatever Lila had done, Marinette probably wouldn’t know until Lila revealed it. It made her dread returning to school. But she couldn’t keep putting it off. If she went now, she could at least try to meet with the others and head off anything Lila could do.

So she made a quick rush to the kitchen to get a small lunch for herself and some cookies for Tikki. With her parents otherwise occupied, that meant that Tikki could come out of hiding and they could talk freely for a bit longer.

“Marinette, maybe you should take a break and stay home for the rest of the school day?” Tikki suggested. And wow, she was certainly taking this ‘be more supportive’ role to heart.

Something in Marinette warmed at that. And in any other circumstances, she would happily have taken Tikki’s advice.

“I’m fine, Tikki. Really.”

Tikki frowned, clearly not buying it. “But you’ve spent half of your day dealing with the crisis caused by Lila and then the akuma that was caused by that crisis, all while trying to keep Lila safe. Even when she was working against you.”

Yeah. There was that.

“You did a lot today. Both as Ladybug and Marinette.” Tikki continued. “No one would fault you if you let yourself recover.”

Marinette hesitated at that.

It was tempting. She was tired. And if she was being honest, she really just wanted to sleep and not deal with anything until tomorrow at least.

But…

She bit her lip.

For all that Tikki’s words made sense and clearly came from a place of concern for her, Marinette couldn’t help but be reminded of only a couple hours ago where Tikki had been trying to convince her to let Lila burn.

She knew that this was different. A matter of self care and health. But even though it’s something she’s wanted and something she appreciates hearing from her kwami, it still felt so strange now that she was experiencing it.

This was something she was going to have to get used to. And she would, she was sure. After all, Tikki was clearly trying for her. And Marinette wanted nothing more than to reciprocate—and also to just drop off into sweet blessed sleep…

However…

“I need to see this through.” She stated, resolutely.

She needed to get back to the school. Both for class and to check on her friends.

After all, even if her Miraculous Cure had fixed the damage caused from the akuma, that didn’t mean her friends were fine. And she still wanted to check in on Rose at the very least.

Tikki looked up at her sadly. Then she floated over and nuzzled Marinette’s cheek, showing her silent support.

It only took a few minutes to gather the rest of her things and make her way to the school.

Even if Tikki assured her that what happened wasn’t her fault, Marinette still felt the need to apologize to Rose for what had happened. Maybe they could still find some way to fix things.

She reached the school in minutes and had almost immediately run into one of her classmates.

Just not the one she had been expecting.

“Adrien?”

He spun to face her, appearing nervous. Even panicked.

“Oh, hey! Marinette! Hi! Hey, um…hey.” He finished, looking embarrassed. “How…are you?”

“I’m fine. Just…have a lot on my mind.” She shrugged. “Just…with Rose and the akuma and everything.”

“Good. That’s good. Well, not good-good about the akuma. But good that you’re okay. Um. Me too.” He looked away, clearly still nervous.

She frowned in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Fine! I’m fine! Just…y’know…got caught up in the akuma attack and was one of her minions for a while. But Ladybug saved me so we’re good.” He said with a not fully sincere smile.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She hadn’t recalled seeing Adrien among the mob. But given how big it had gotten, she wouldn’t be surprised.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Marinette…one of the things Witch Hunter said…” He looked her in the eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me Lila had threatened you?”

She straightened in shock. “What?!”

He rubbed the back of his head, looking to the ground. “I’m sorry, it’s just…she said a lot of things Lila had done that I hadn’t known. Like…well…” The book. Her framing Adrien for insulting Nino. Her working with his father. “How she threatened you?”

“Oh.” She said, a bit blankly. Because what else could she say?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He implored her. “I had said we were in this together, but…you didn’t tell me she did that.”

It was true. She hadn’t.

But…why hadn’t she?

“I…didn’t think it was a big deal?”

Why was she asking him instead of telling him?

“Not a big—Marinette, she threatened you!” His eyes widened in realization. “Her expelling you was part of her threat, wasn’t it?”

She flinched, but nodded.

“Just…why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you! I would have done more!”

She waved her hands frantically, trying to console him. “It’s okay, Adrien! Really! You were only—it was just…”

A tap at her leg caught her attention. It came from her purse. A quick glance downward revealed Tikki looking up at her from the safety of the clutch she carried with her. The little kwami remained hidden to Adrien, fortunately, but visible to her. Tikki looked up at her with wide eyes and gave a smile and small nod of encouragement.

Why would she—?

Oh.

Oh, right.

“No.” She admitted. “It’s not okay.”

She had been spending months now convincing herself that things were okay when they weren’t. That she was okay when she wasn’t. And that if she at any point felt she wasn’t okay, it was a failing on her part.

That wasn’t a healthy way to live, as she was only just now starting to understand that.

“I don’t know if you realize this, but I’ve been listening to you on things because I look up to you. I took your advice because I trusted you and believed that you only had everyone’s best interest at heart.”

“But I did!” He insisted automatically before catching himself. “I mean, I thought I was...”

“I trusted you over my own intuition. I listened to you when you kept emphasizing the feelings of others over my own. Chloe was bad enough, but Lila too? Even if they were the ones who were horrible, it felt like I was expected to just...” She struggled for a moment to find the wording to accurately convey her feelings before simply shrugging. “Just deal with it.”

He winced. He hadn’t realized the impact he’d had.

“Because of that,” she continued, “whenever I started to have an issue, I brushed it off because I figured that if there was a problem with someone and something they were doing...well, it was just me, right? So I had to do the right thing. I had to be the bigger person. I had to be the ‘Everyday Ladybug’. Even when I didn’t feel like I could be.”

She took a breath.

“And that wasn’t fair to me.”

He looked up at her. Sad and worried and sympathetic all in one. “I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter. I just thought...”

“Chloe’s your friend so it makes sense that you’d want to defend her.” Marinette reasoned. “But Lila, too?” She wrung her hands. “They both did horrible things. They both hurt me...really badly. And it felt like you’ve cared more about their feelings than mine.”

“That’s not it!” He exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. “I just...I know they aren’t then nicest, but they’re struggling. It’s…harder for them than it is for you.“

“If they’re having a hard time, it’s because it’s entirely of their own making. Chloe has been bullying everyone for years, so it’s not our fault that we don’t want to continue to deal with that mistreatment. And Lila has been actively lying to everyone not to be like, but just so she can manipulate them. I get that you care, but your attempts to protect the people you see as ‘needing it’ has resulted in harm to other people who don’t deserve it. You aren’t just enabling them...you’re rewarding them.

“You said to take the highroad, but whatever the highroad is, I don’t think that’s it.”

He gaped at her, some combination of shocked and horrified.

“But I haven’t been encouraging any of this! I tried to help you! I made a deal with her so she would get you back into school.“

Well, that was something she hadn’t known. Although his sudden friendliness with Lila had been suspicious. As had the schools sudden change of heart about her expulsion. But she hadn’t realized the two had been related.

She was grateful to him. Truly. He had only done it for her.

However...

“I never asked you to.”

She wouldn’t have wanted it had she known.

“I never asked you to become Lila’s toy or put yourself in such a bad position for my sake. I only asked you to stand by me and support me.”

She had turned to him that day, wanting him—just someone who knew the truth to speak up in her defense.

To say she was innocent.

To admit that Lila had lied.

To just say she was believed. That she was worth believing in.

“And you didn’t.“

He stared at her. Long and hard. As if this had never occurred to him before. He seemed unable to speak for a full minute.

Until…

“I’m sorry.“

She jumped in surprise.

“I was a hypocrite. I knew she was lying but I convinced myself it wasn’t that bad. And even when I knew people were hurt, it didn’t matter until her lies hurt me.”

He gave a weak laugh.

“Witch Hunter…did you know? The way her power worked was that you only fell under her spell when she announced something Lila did that truly makes you angry.”

He covered his face. In resignation? In guilt?

“I only fell under Witch Hunter’s spell when she revealed Lila had been spying on me for my father. Not when I found out what she did to Rose. Not when I found out what she did to Nino. Not even when I found out what she did to you.” He shook his head. “It only mattered, really truly mattered when it affected me.”

He hung his head in shame.

“I’m a real jerk.”

The denial was automatic on her lips.

“You aren’t a jerk!” She insisted. “You were just—”

He gave a bitter laugh, cutting her off.

“I was so proud of myself that day. When I told you to take the highroad and not out Lila.”

He looked up at her smiling humorlessly.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch you? All the time, I see you doing the right thing. Standing up for people. Doing things to make people happy. Making things better.”

He sighed.

“It felt...it felt good being the one you would listen to and follow.” He admitted. “You were looking up to me and taking my advice. I was so proud of myself! I got to be the one who had solved the problem and made everything better!” He announced with a wave of his hands in an exaggerated fashion before slumping down.

“I’m such an idiot.”

She stared.

He…really admired her that much?

And at that time, he’d just been trying to impress her?

That…hadn’t been the inclination she had gotten at all. It had just felt that he was admonishing her at those times for not being the bigger person. Looking back, now that she was willing to admit it, it had felt like more expectations and double standards.

“I can’t say what you did was okay, because it wasn’t. Lila was able to hurt me. And now she’s hurt Rose and everyone else now because neither of us spoke up when we should have.”

She took a breath.

“But I think I get it. About wanting someone you care about to listen and look up to you. Because that was how I’ve felt about you.”

He jumped and looked up at her in surprise.

Because when it came down to it, hadn’t she been the same? Doing things that had hurt her or others because she had been so focused on Adrien and wanting him to think well of her?

Was it ironic that it was only now, after everything that had happened this day, that she could finally voice even a bit of the feelings she has for him?

They just weren’t the feelings she thought she’d ever be sharing…

But maybe, she thought as she felt Tikki’s comforting presence by her side, these were the ones she needed to?

“It hurts that even when I’m doing the right thing and you say you’re with me, it still feels like you’re not really on my side. Even—especially when I’ve let things get this far at your request.”

“I didn’t mean—I’m sorry—” He started, but he broke off as she raised a hand to stop him.

“I just...” She shook her head. “If we really are friends, I wish you would show it more. And...that you would stand up for me the way you do for them.”

He stared at her in shock. Perhaps a bit of horror as her words really got to him.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured. “I never meant to make you feel that way. I never wanted you to think I don’t care.”

He stood straight and held out his arms to her in clear indication of…something. But she was exhausted—both mentally and physically as it was and her mind was a bit slow to catch just what he was intending to do.

“I know you can handle things, Marinette. You’re strong. And brave. It’s why I know I can trust you when things get tough. But…that you can handle things doesn’t mean you should have to. It doesn’t mean you don’t need support.”

He smiled at her. And oh damn, that smile. It was like a miniature sun and she couldn’t help but stare even as her brain was yelling at her to look away.

The next thing she knew, she was in his arms and…oh…this must be how being held by the sun felt like…

“I want to be someone who you can count on to support you, Marinette.”

Oh. Okay. Nice. This was nice. More of this please. More of just all of this.

The hug must have lasted an eternity. An hour at least? Because it felt like forever until she was drawn out of the soothing feeling by a rumbling and a series of sounds that seemed to mean something…

Could she just…stay like this? For a day or two? Maybe the rest of her life? Tikki tried, bless her, but kwami arms just weren’t the same as human arms and the feeling of being wrapped up in sunshine was bliss.

Oh wait, he was talking more. She should probably be listening right now.

“—contract. Maybe I could talk to them? See what else they know of that could help?”

“Hmm?”

She was dazed and completely out of it, something Adrien seemed to pick up on as he released his hold (noo, don’t do that!) and backed away (noooooo) to arm’s length to look her over.

“Marinette? Are you okay?”

She blinked a few times as her mind reoriented to where she was.

And more specifically to who she was with.

“Oh! Right! Fine! You’re fine—I mean, I’M fine. Just…” She sighed, rubbing at one eye with the palm of her hand. “Just a…long day.”

Maybe she should have stayed home after all if just one hug could do that…

Adrien seemed to notice this and frowned in concern. He took in her state and apparently there was something about her appearance she had missed earlier because he seemed to get the same idea.

“Marinette, are you okay? If you’re tired, maybe you should go home and rest?”

She shook her head insistently. “No. I can’t.”

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to push yourself. Remember? I’m going to support you. And I know everyone else would understand.”

She didn’t think they wouldn’t. But as much as she just wanted to sleep until tomorrow and skip the rest of this day, she wasn’t sure she would be able to relax at home if she didn’t know what was happening with her friends.

“If nothing else, I want to check up on Rose.” Seeing that he looked ready to argue, she rushed on. “I need this. Please.”

He hesitated. And she was worried he would push the issue, because she was sure that she would give in if he did. She just did not have the energy to argue at this point. Fortunately though, he seemed to understand as he took her arm in his.

“Okay. But I’ll be right here with you.”

Any other day, she would be a stammering mess if Adrien were to take her arm and walk with her like this.

Today, she was simply grateful.

__________________

It didn’t take them too long to find Rose. She was in the hallway talking with Alya. The two seemed deep in conversation that they didn’t notice the duo approach.

“Rose!” Marinette exclaimed, loosening her arm from Adrien’s hold and rushing to her friend. “Are you okay?”

The blonde looked up at her, tearful.

“I’m okay.” She murmured as she wiped at her eyes.

“But are you?” Alya broke in, asking Marinette. “Girl, I saw the footage!”

Marinette blinked.

“Footage?” She asked, and then started to back away at the expression on Alya’s face.

Alya could be headstrong, but she never really got angry. Upset, certainly. Annoyed, often. But even in the heights of Lila’s worst attempts to make Marinette look bad, Alya had never truly gotten angry—just righteous and in Marinette’s opinion that was admittedly a bit resentful at the time, acting a bit superior. Perhaps the only time she had ever seen her friend look truly angry was during Hero’s Day, and even then it took a hit from Dark Cupid and Hawk Moth’s control to get her there.

So seeing Alya looking ready to claw someone’s eyes out was…unsettling, to say the least.

Even Adrien apparently seemed to think so, as he moved up to Marinette and almost seemed to position himself slightly between them. “Alya? What happened?”

Despite Adrien’s attempt to act as a barrier, Marinette tried to reach out, concerned for her friend’s state. The way she was looking, Marinette half wondered if she wasn’t still affected by Witch Hunter. A quick glance to a worried Rose disproved that easily enough, but perhaps it was a remnant of her power the Cure missed? “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean am I okay? Are YOU okay?!” Alya shouted, pointing at Marinette. “Girl, I saw what what happened with you and Lila!”

Marinette jumped. Her mind immediately raced to her call out of Lila just a little over an hour ago. Did someone record her going off? Was there something that had revealed her as Ladybug? Had she messed up?!

“What?! No wait—it’s not what you—I didn’t mean—!”

Alya was pulling up her phone, and by the time she turned it so that Marinette and Adrien could see, the video already started playing. The video was recorded from someone within the akuma’s mob—not yet grown to the level of the city yet.

Marinette briefly recognized that the location in the video seemed familiar but hadn’t quite registered how when a sudden commotion caught the attention of the group. The person recording turned the camera sharply, which blurred and then focused on a fallen figure a short distance away.

“—conspirator helping the Witch! Someone grab her!”

…oh. That figure was her.

And the moment when Lila had betrayed her and tried to sacrifice her to the mob.

“Hey! That’s Marinette!” Came Alya’s voice from the phone, shortly followed by the exclamations from the crowd that Marinette already knew were coming because she had lived this and yet despite seeing it on record, she still struggled to believe it actually happened.

…the crowd leaving her alone part. Not the Lila betraying her part. THAT, she could believe no question.

“I can’t believe she would do that!” Alya exclaimed. The real Alya. The present one. Who was standing in front of her and not the one in the phone—who was almost disturbingly cheerful in how she was calling for Lila’s blood.

…to be honest, Marinette wasn’t sure whether that mob Alya or the furious one in front of her scared her more. Present Alya, for her part, was clearly NOT happy about the events.

Neither was Adrien, apparently, as he grabbed the phone from Alya and looked to be furious himself.

“Wait—Lila did WHAT?!” He demanded. And…wow, was this what Adrien had been like as part of the mob? She hadn’t known he could get that angry.

“She tried to throw Marinette to the mob!” Alya bit out.

“I can’t believe it!”

“How could she—?!”

“When Marinette had just been trying to help her!”

“That lousy little b—”

“WHY did she even think that was necessary?!”

“Is it too late to torch her and say the akuma did it?”

Marinette looked between the two, feeling that she should be saying something but honestly, just getting all the more overwhelmed.

A hand on her arm broke her attention away from the two and back to poor Rose, who looked almost to the point of tears again.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Oh Rose, you deserved better than this.

“No! You actually let me go.” She insisted, much to the blonde’s visible relief. “You were focused only on Lila. And aside from getting people to help you hunt her down, you didn’t do anything to anyone else.”

If anything, the people of Paris seemed pretty happy for the excuse.

…maybe she really needed to talk to the Mayor about having a fun festival to just let everyone blow off steam?

She could focus on that later though. She shook her head and returned her attention to Rose. The girl still looked nervous, but less worried at least. That was good.

Rose sniffled. “I didn’t know. I’ve just been scared to see what my akuma did.”

“No one was hurt in the end.” Marinette assured her. “Ladybug came and stopped it. Nobody was hurt.”

Because Rose never really wanted to hurt anyone, she was sure. Even if it was Lila.

At most, maybe Lila got a little smokey smell to her. And a lot wet. But she survived. And without burns.

Rose seemed to slump in relief. “I’m so glad.”

And this…this right here was why it was worth it. Because the difference in Rose’s posture and expression within a few seconds meant a situation she could feel move on from versus a guilt she would be carrying with her all her life.

“I can't believe I almost did that! What did I become!?" Rose cried.

“You were akumatized. You were rightfully enraged by someone you thought was a friend taking advantage of you. Honestly, the only reason I didn't join in is because nothing about her shocks me anymore.”

Despite the attempt at reassurance, the smaller girl drew in on herself more. She rubbed at her eyes to wipe away tears and merely nodded at Marinette’s words. Hearing, but not fully agreeing. Or maybe it was the reminder that Marinette had known and tried to reveal Lila sooner to no avail.

Of all people, Rose didn’t deserve this. None of the classmates did, but Rose had been particularly trusting and was affected the worst because of this.

She couldn’t help it. She hugged Rose. If Adrien’s hug earlier had been so nice for her, maybe this could help the smaller girl in turn.

Rose certainly seemed to appreciate it as she hugged back…quite strongly, actually. Marinette had known Rose had some upper body strength given how she had been able to carry Chloe during the Zombizu attack but wow. Rose was smaller than Adrien, but her hug was just as warm but more tight.

Marinette lost herself a bit in the comfort she was giving and receiving. She barely even noticed that Adrien and Alya were still talking. She was peripherally aware that it was happening, but once again had lost track of what they were actually saying.

She had checked on Rose and made sure she was doing…well even if not fully okay. Maybe this was a sign she should go home?

“LIAR!”

It seemed it wasn’t to be, however, as a sudden commotion caught her notice, dragging her attention to a gathering down the hall.

And suddenly, Marinette was wide awake.

__________________

“—trusted me. Ladybug knew I would never do such a thing! That’s how she was able to ward off Witch Hunter.”

Lila giggled.

“You could say that the ‘power of friendship’ saved the day!”

Of course she was lying through her teeth once again. Not that she needed to at this point, really. Her mother was firmly in her corner and Lila would be getting to leave Paris soon enough. But there was a part of her that wanted to see if she couldn’t convince them one more time.

While she may not have a chance of getting revenge on Hawk Moth, she at least wanted some victory to take with her when she left. After all, Lila was hardly one to simply let things go and let this end without a last hurrah. No, if anything, when the chips were down, she was used to going all in. And if she lost? Well, not like it mattered if she wasn’t there to pay afterwards.

This time would be no different.

Truthfully, the only reason she was at the school at all was so her mother could file the paperwork to transfer her out. She hadn’t really wanted to go, but she had needed to be there to run interference in case anyone attempted to approach her. It had been part of the reason she had insisted on going despite her “harrowing” experience. Her mother had insisted on starting the process to remove Lila from the school immediately. And while she was sure no one would recognize the woman if she arrived alone, Lila knew she had to be there to “lead” the discussion between her mother and the Principal, as well as protect her mother from hearing any untoward rumors that could taint her view of her loving and trusted daughter.

Lila hadn’t intended to be caught by her soon to be former classmates. The original plan had been to simply disappear from their lives and leave them with their guilt and uncertainty. It was part of the reason she had agreed to come with her mother to the school so soon, as she had expected that everyone should be in class by the time they arrived. But her mother had gotten out earlier than expected, and people were still milling about the school.

She had kept her head down and hoped that no one would notice her. But luck was not in her favor it seemed, as Bustier had been late for some unknown reason, so her students had chosen to hang out in the hallways instead of waiting in the classroom or simply calling it a day and going home early.

A minor hiccup. She was sure that they would be forced to leave once class started. She separated from her mother with the pretense of saying goodbye to all of her friends, in the actual intention of simply buying time until the teacher returned and called them away. Her mother and Damocles had even seemed eager for her to, reassuring her that they did not need her and ushering her out of the room, which was all the more in her favor she supposed.

And really, how could she resist one more opportunity to see them dance for her?

After this, she would be home free. Not like they could do anything to her across international borders even if they did try.

There was no risk to her at this point. So It was worth pushing to see just how far she could milk this.

And these were the best saps a girl could ask for.

The present classmates listened to her tale of woe. Though only a fraction of the crowd she would normally draw and not quite as eager as they used to, they were still listening to her patiently at least instead of simply blowing her off or calling her out. Which meant there was still a chance they would believe her.

A few of them actually seemed to be buying her story. And it had been one of her better tales, in her personal opinion. There were one or two that rolled their eyes—which, rude. A couple who seemed disinterested. But most of the rest seemed uncertain.

It was a shame Rose wasn’t there. Lila was sure that she would especially appreciate the performance. Though part of her was relieved, since she figured that the emotional girl would probably start crying if she had been.

Though there was also no Marinette either, which meant no one to counter her story as she had no doubt the little Miss Perfect would.

“You’re really saying that Marinette handed you off to the violent mob?”

That also meant she wasn’t there to defend herself either.

Lila hunched her shoulders and brought up a hand to her face in a nervous expression. “It’s not her fault. I’m sure it was because of the akuma. Even she wouldn’t turn on me like that just because she doesn’t like me…”

Cry her a river? She’d be seeing Marinette cry a river once she was done here. If she accomplished nothing else before she left, she would at least make sure Marinette Dupain-Cheng regretted talking to her like that.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t have done it if she was herself.” Mylene reached forward to comfort her but stopped a foot away and immediately decided to back off and keep her hands to herself. She coughed into her hand and looked away.

Lila frowned, scratching her head. What was that about?

She shook it off and kept to her plan. Play up the innocent act and leave them guessing until it was time to go. Whatever happened after that was their problem.

“I was so scared.” Lila whimpered. “Her expression at that time was…terrifying.”

Some more of the classmates looked sympathetic. Yet none of them approached her. Now that Lila noticed, there was a distinct space between her and the rest of the class. No one would come within five feet of her.

She hugged herself, looking the picture of wounded and helpless. “I was just lucky I was able to get away after she outted my hiding place to the mob.”

“LIAR!”

Everyone jumped to see a fuming Alya approach. A somewhat less visibly angry but still no doubt displeased Adrien was right behind her.

Both of them were focused completely on Lila.

Lila gasped, as if hurt. “What do you—”

“Can it.” Alya cut her off immediately, not even giving her a chance to spin some new lie. “You can’t be trusted, Lila. Or did you think we would forget about earlier?”

“That was a misunderstanding.” Lila explained, raising her hands in a peaceful gesture. “You weren’t here, but I had already told everyone what happened and why.”

“Oh really?” Alya asked, clearly disbelieving.

“She said that she was hit by an akuma before the attack today and only snapped out of it after Rose was akumatized.” Alix stated with a droll tone and an expression that said she didn’t believe it either.

Alya gave Lila a flat stare. “Do you actually expect us to believe that?”

“It’s the truth.” Lila rested a hand over her heart akin to an oath before curling her fingers and drawing in on herself as if pained. “I was horrified when I woke up and realized what had happened.”

“Then where is the money?” Alya demanded.

Lila resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Usually Alya would take her at her word, which was useful when others in turn trusted her for her reporting skills. It worked to her advantage when Alya believed her, but having those skills turned on her was a real pain.

“Hawk Moth must have taken it.” She suggested. It couldn’t be proven, of course, but it couldn’t be disproven either. And this group was particularly gullible and willing to believe the best in anyone regardless of common sense.

Except this time, apparently.

“If Hawk Moth needed money, we would be seeing akumas robbing banks, not stealing donations from teenagers for a fake charity.” Kim pointed out.

“He was probably being discreet.” Lila said hastily.

“Stealing money from a charity isn’t discreet!” Alya shouted, drawing even more attention much to Lila’s annoyance.

“Everyone already knows you lied and pocketed the money. The very least you could do is admit it.“ Adrien said, looking rather cross.

Of all the times for the doormat to actually try to stand up on his own, did it have to be now?

Lila gasped, looking hurt. Internally, she was annoyed more than anything. He was supposed to be passive. He’d never stood out like this before!

“But Adrien, you said we were friends, remember?”

It was a reminder of their “deal”. As well as a thinly veiled threat of what she would have free reign to do if that deal was broken. Not just to Marinette, but to him as well. After all, Adrien knew about Lila’s lies all along and did nothing. If he was going to out her here, she would be dragging him down with her.

“I said we were friends as long as you didn’t hurt anyone I care about!” Adrien corrected her. “And you have! You hurt Kagami. You hurt Marinette. And now you’ve hurt Rose!”

“Wait—dude! You knew?” Nino asked, looking hurt.

“I knew she was a liar.” Adrien admitted to everyone. He looked down in shame. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought…” He paused before shrugging. “Well, I thought a lot of things that were wrong.”

“Dude.” Kim muttered.

Ivan gave Adrien a stern glare. “You owe Rose. Big time.”

“Marinette, too.” Alya added, gesturing to the pig-tailed girl who had approached the group alongside Rose.

“I know.” Adrien nodded and turned to the two, even going so far as to bow lowly from the waist. “And I’ll accept any punishment if it means you will all forgive me for not speaking up sooner.”

He knew better now. The absence of overt conflict doesn’t mean that the problem is solved. He had thought he was fixing problems, but really, he was only dealing with symptoms.

Rose looked uncertain. She stared at Adrien, biting her lip. She was snapped out of her thoughts by a touch to her shoulder. Looking up in surprise, she saw Marinette and remembered that the other girl had still been beside her. Even now, she was acting as a support.

Marinette patted her on the shoulder and smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s up to you.”

Rose looked back to Adrien.

He hadn’t been the one who did it. But he knew…if not that Lila was lying, then at least that she was a liar. He knew and he didn’t say anything. Which…well, wasn’t AS bad as Lila actually lying, but still bad.

She frowned.

“I want your endorsement on the charity.”

“Done.”

“And a cake for the class as an apology.”

“Just tell me what flavor.”

“And for you to take Marinette on a date to a fancy restaurant.”

“I’ll check my sched—wait, what?” He asked, standing up straight.

Marinette covered Rose’s mouth before she could repeat herself.

“Just the first two will be fine.” She said, flushing with embarrassment. Because really Rose?

Rose, for her part, gave her an annoyed look but didn’t fight her. Nor did she attempt to keep up the demand even after Marinette released her.

“Are you sure?” He asked, holding up a hand to her as if in offering. “After everything, a nice meal would be the least I could do.”

Then he smiled.

And suddenly, Marinette’s initial willpower just took a hit.

“It’ll be my treat.” He promised.

Marinette felt herself heat up at that. He hadn’t seemed to notice the ‘date’ part of Rose’s statement, but seemed rather stuck on the idea of getting a dinner together and Marinette knew she shouldn’t, but she didn’t want to say no either…

The classmates were all grinning or sending each other knowing looks. Alya was getting her phone out to record for blackmail future wedding material. Rose was beaming excitedly. They were all glad that some good was coming out of this.

Except, of course, for Lila.

Any cheerful atmosphere or chatter immediately died at the way Lila cleared her throat. Somehow, she just seemed to draw all attention to herself. The others looked to her in question. But Marinette, who knew Lila well enough to know she was plotting something, only felt dread.

“But is that really appropriate?” Lila asked, innocently. She rubbed at her arm. “After all, you wouldn’t want Adrien to be leading on Marinette the way he did me.”

The others stared. “What?”

Marinette paled.

Oh. Oh, this was going down a bad road, she could feel it.

Adrien glared. “I never led you on, Lila.”

Lila chuckled cheerfully. “Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t intentional, of course. But taking a girl out to a fancy dinner would…well…certainly imply things. Especially if the girl in question already is enamored with you.”

He blinked.

“What?”

“She holds feelings for you.”

A moment’s pause.

“You mean…as a friend?” He asked.

…seriously? Was he not getting it?

“She is clearly crushing on you.” Lila stated flatly.

Adrien stared.

“…What?”

Lila sighed in irritation. “Why else do you think she always freaks out around you? The stammering? The nervous giggling? The weird statements that don’t fit the context?”

Marinette pulled at her pigtails in frustration. Because of course. Of-freaking-course Lila would sink this low!

Adrien blinked, then rubbed his chin. “I thought it was because of the way I kept surprising her? Like approaching her from behind. Or appearing behind her locker right as she closes it.”

Nino squinted at his friend. “Which I’ve been meaning to ask, how do you even do that?”

“Not the point.” Lila cut in before turning back to Adrien. “Seriously, Adrien, didn’t you wonder why she had all those posters of you in her room?”

“Because she’s a fan. She even told me as much.” He stated.

Lila stared as Adrien beamed at his Very Good Friend. “And it’s kind of nice knowing that a fashion designer like Marinette likes what I do. And looks up to my father.” He snapped his fingers in realization. “Hey! Maybe I could see if you can’t meet my dad sometime!”

Marinette smiled uncertainly and just…sort of nodded. “That sounds nice.”

Because really, what else could she do at this point?

Lila gaped in growing outrage.

Was…was he just going to keep ignoring her? To focus on…THAT?

“What? No! Adrien, she is crushing on you! Like…obsessively!” Lila exclaimed.

Adrien seemed to be getting annoyed with Lila’s continued interruptions, given the look he threw her. “Lila, do you really have to keep making things up?”

“I’m not making this up!”

“Yeah,” Alix said sarcastically. “Just like the charity.”

“And Marinette leaving you to the akuma.” Alya added, still clearly angry about that.

“And everything else you’ve ever said.”

Lila growled. “But this is true! And I have proof!”

With a smirk, Lila held out her phone, showing the picture she had taken earlier of the schedule inside Marinette’s room.

“See? Marinette has your schedule on her calendar!” She exclaimed.

Adrien frowned at her, disapprovingly. “Are you seriously making things up now just to make Marinette look bad?”

Marinette winced.

He was really keeping his word and trying to support her. She knew in this moment that if she denied it, Adrien would believe her. And it may save face and protect her from any further humiliation.

As well as sticking it to Lila, which was always nice.

…But Marinette hated liars. And if there was one thing that this entire mess taught her, it was that great harm could come from lies. She didn’t want to give Lila any additional ammunition to use against her, but she knew it would only be worse if it got out later.

And she didn’t want to misuse Adrien’s trust in that way.

“Actually, I do have your schedule.” She admitted.

Adrien stopped in the middle of the lecture he was about to give Lila. He turned to her in surprise.

“What?”

“It’s just…you would mention certain activities or plans. Fencing. Tutoring. Lessons. And I would hear and add them to my calendar so I would be aware when it came to planning things.”

Silence.

Lila smirked in victory. So the goody-two shoes had a fault and was actually admitting to it for the entire class to see. Even Adrien’s protective best friend must be up in arms as he took Lila’s phone with the picture of the schedule to look it over.

Adrien, for his part, blinked as he registered the information.

“So you’ve kept track of all the events and scheduling I’ve told you about to add to your calendar?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

A longer pause. Marinette mentally kicked herself. Why hadn’t she just stayed home and avoided this mess?

Then he smiled. “That was nice of you.”

“What?” Marinette asked, stunned.

“What.” Lila less asked than stated. Shrieking even in her disbelief.

“Well, friends keep friends on their schedules.” Adrien said, nodding resolutely.

Lila stared, her eye twitching slightly.

But he paid her no mind, keeping his gaze on his very good friend.

"Can I see it?" He asked her.

Marinette blinked. "What?"

He was actually looking eager now. “That way I can fill in any gaps so we can choose better times to hang out!”

She flushed. This was not the direction she had expected this to go. And from Lila’s disgusted expression, neither had she.

Far be it from her to argue. Especially against Adrien’s hopeful puppy eyes.

"Okay."

“Great! I’ll come by your house later! Maybe we can play Mecha Strike while we’re at it.” He said with a smile that—gah, too bright! It would probably blind her if it didn’t make her heart explode.

Marinette blushed.

“Okay?” She agreed because really, what else could she do at this point?

"WHAT?!" Lila raged, her skin starting to turn red. "Why would you want to help her keep your schedule?! Isn't that creepy?!"

He turned to Lila at that with a frown. “But...she's my friend. I'm on her Personal Calendar with all the people she considers friends!" And she’d done this even before their talk today, so that meant she really did like him, right?

Lila rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Adrien! Who actually does that?"

Adrien shrugged. "Nino does."

A pause. Slowly, all eyes turned to Nino.

The cap-wearing teen realized the sudden attention he'd got and jumped back, waving his hands.

"Well, how else were we supposed to have hangouts with that schedule of his?" He defended before turning his attention to Marinette. “You’re missing his Chinese lessons by the way.”

Marinette turned to him in surprise. “What?”

“Yeah, also he has a photoshoot this weekend and in the middle of next week. And I see my schedule on there, too, but you don’t have my gig Friday.”

“Wait—you’re on her schedule, too?” Ivan asked, surprised.

“All of her friends are.” Nino confirmed.

Kim raised his hand. “Am I on there?”

“All of her friends are.” Nino repeated, and looked down at the picture of the calendar. “She has your swim meet for next Tuesday. And a plan to bring some of those tarts you like.”

“Sweet!” Kim exclaimed, giving a fist pump.

Nino nodded to Marinette before handing the phone back to Lila. “Plus Alya and I are having a date Sunday, not Saturday, so we won't need you to babysit. Might want to add that.”

Marinette blinked as she just…tried to register everything.

“Oh. Okay.”

Apparently, that was becoming her default word as she was still trying to process how any of this was happening.

Alya stared at her boyfriend.

“So wait, you have Adrien’s schedule, too?”

“Of course, I do! Hangouts are difficult enough, but we also need to know what times we can video chat.” Nino shrugged. “How else do you think I knew when his dad was leaving? And how to get past his bodyguard?”

Lila gaped. She couldn’t believe this!

Even the other classmates seemed unbothered. Did they really have no concept of boundaries?

…of course they didn’t. They were teenagers.

The fact that Lila herself had commonly infringed on Adrien’s boundaries in a physical way on a daily basis and most recently violated Marinette’s boundaries specifically to find this information to use against her in the first place seemed entirely lost on her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? How are you okay with this? Are you seriously that stupid?” Lila demanded.

Adrien frowned at Lila, stepping in front of his friends. “Marinette and everyone else here are my friends. Of course, I care about them and would want them to know when I’m available—”

“You can’t possibly be that blind! MARINETTE. HAS. A. CRUSH. ON. YOU. She is so hopelessly in love with you that it’s pathetic!”

“Don’t talk about her like—”

“She has birthday and holiday gifts for you for YEARS!” Lila shouted. “HOW IS THAT NOT WEIRD?!”

The classmates blinked or jumped in surprise before all eyes turned to Marinette.

Why? Why was she Lila’s go-to target?

“I was just…I mean…” She stammered, looking down in shame and embarrassment.

The classmates seemed to be waiting for an answer. It seemed they were at least trying to give her the benefit of the doubt since it was LILA making the accusation, after all, and it was clear by this point that she was simply throwing out anything to make her look bad.

Hesitant, she looked up to see Adrien’s reaction.

And Adrien…oh god, he actually had tears in his eyes!

“Really? Is it true?”

Marinette jumped to try and explain.

“I—um—well—you see—”

His eyes widened. “I can’t believe it...”

“No wait! It’s not—”

Okay, yeah, she was a mess and had nothing.

“You felt so bad about missing my birthday that you’ve been making gifts for me ahead of time so you won’t miss it again!” He exclaimed, looking excited.

Which was okay, apparently, because Adrien had apparently drawn his own conclusions. As evidenced when he pulled her into a hug.

“You didn’t have to do all that, Marinette.” He said, giving her a squeeze. “I don’t hold it against you that you forgot my birthday. You didn’t know.”

A part of Marinette was screaming. Because oh, the irony. If only he knew…

Alya…out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Alya also looked like she desperately wanted to say something. Probably the truth about his scarf. Which now was a bad time to reveal.

“You have no reason to feel guilty for not getting me anything.” He told her, releasing her with a smile and patting her shoulders. “But I appreciate that you felt so strongly about it that you would try to get such a head start to make up for it. It means a lot that you care so much about me.”

Marinette…yeah, Marinette.exe has shut down.

“But that’s not...” Mylene started, only to pause for several seconds before frowning with a small wince. “Actually yeah, that does sound exactly like something Marinette would do.”

“Remember how she got Alya an interview with Ladybug after she accidentally deleted that video?” Kim chimed in.

Nino slapped his forehead. “Oh yeah! Alya went on and on about that for weeks!”

Alya—even Alya, her best friend, who knew full well about her crush and the gifts actually looked uncertain at the news. She bit her lip, looking back and forth between Adrien and Marinette in confusion and concern.

Because she remembered that Adrien’s father had somehow wound up with credit for Marinette’s gift to Adrien. She also remembered how Chloe had broken into Marinette’s locker and vandalized her gift to Bustier. Then there was the time Marinette made Adrien that hat but didn’t take credit for that either.

Marinette…just seemed to have bad luck when it came to giving people things, apparently.

So was it really any wonder that the girl would become that anxious over gift-giving? Or that Marinette, being Marinette, had gone so far as to prepare a multitude of gifts as backups in case something like her gift being stolen, lost, or vandalized happened again?

Alya...honestly didn’t know anymore. Maybe that was something she should try to help with more in the future.

Adrien for his part was simply basking in the glow of happiness that came with knowing how much his good friend Marinette cared about him. Nobody had the heart to argue with him. Nor did any of them even have an argument to make.

“Are you kidding? No one keeps that many gifts for one person in their closet! Can you possibly be that stupid?”

Except Lila, but after everything that had happened, no one was really feeling inclined to humor her.

“Since you’re bringing that up though, here’s a better question.” Alix cut in, giving Lila a glare. “How do you even know any of this?”

Lila drew back in surprise as she suddenly found herself the subject of glares from the rest of her classmates.

“I somehow doubt Marinette invited you into her room.” Alix continued.

“Her parents did!” Lila quickly explained, absently scratching at her wrist. “They invited me inside since the mob was after me.”

Okay, yeah no. Marinette’s brain had rebooted at that. There was no way she was going to let Lila implicate her parents.

“I already talked to my parents about what happened after I saw you wearing my clothes. They invited you into the bakery.” Marinette corrected angrily. “They did not invite you into my room.”

“It was an accident.” Lila claimed. “I had gotten lost, but once I realized where I was and what I was seeing, I just had to warn everyone—”

“‘What you were seeing’,” Marinette cut her off coldly, “should not have been seen unless you had been looking for them. I kept those gifts in my closet. The schedule was put away. The pictures were not visible from my trap door—which you should have realized right away would NOT lead you to any exit.”

Lila scratched at her neck. “Well, I hardly know anything about you since you keep me at arm’s length. Can you blame me for being a little curious?”

“YES.” Came the resounding echo from…well…nearly everyone. It was clear that nobody was buying anything Lila was trying to sell.

“You don’t try to ‘learn about someone’ by breaking into their room, recording what you find there, and sharing it with people!” Mylene ranted.

“It sounds like you’re trying to make Marinette look bad to distract us from your own actions.” Ivan said with a glare. “Because none this changes what you did.”

“You lied to us about the charity and EVERYTHING else you’ve ever said!” Alya exclaimed.

“Did you make up all those illnesses, too?” Kim asked, disappointed and disapproval evident in his voice.

“I bet you were the one who nearly caused Marinette to get expelled.” Alix hissed, leading more growls and angry muttering from the audience.

“No, I haven’t! It was just a misunderstanding!” Lila insisted.

“Was it?” Came a voice.

Everyone immediately silenced and all eyes turned to one person.

Rose stood tall. Or at least as tall as she could in such a situation. In truth, she was shaking. Her lip was trembling like she was trying not to cry. And she stared straight at Lila, almost as if she was gazing into her soul.

If it was anyone else, Lila might have been concerned.

But it was Rose. Poor simple Rose who always believed in everyone and would listen to anything she said without question.

It’d be easy enough to get back in her good graces.

And all it would take…

Lila sniffled, lowering her head. “I’m sorry.”

Everyone stared.

Marinette wanted to bang her head against something.

Lila rubbed at her eyes to give the illusion of tears. She even managed a couple of hiccups. “You were just all…all so amazing and I was scared about fitting in. I did embellish some things but I…I just wanted you all to like me.” She covered her face, effectively hiding her eyes.

“Things just spiraled out of control and before I knew it, I was trapped! I couldn’t be honest and I was so scared of what you all would think of me!” She sobbed out.

Disregarding, of course, the fact that she had just tried to throw Marinette under the bus—and not for the first time.

Lila looked up at the group, eyes watery though no actual tears have been shed. “I never meant to hurt anyone.” She whimpered. “I just admired you all so much! I’m so sorry!”

They hesitated. Of course they did. They were easily played by emotional appeals. All she’d ever had to do was fake pain or sadness and they would fall over themselves in response before any true logic or reason could set in.

And of course, Rose of all people stepped forward.

The small blonde rested a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes, with what had to be some form of reassurance on her lips.

Leave it to Rose to forgive any transgressions and be willing to start anew. She was always the first to offer reassurances. The first to believe in someone. The first to support a good cause. If anyone would understand and show sympathy, it would be her.

“I don’t believe you.”

That…was not it.

Rose stepped back from Lila, her nose scrunched in disgust. She backed away a good couple of feet. She even wiped her hands on her dress—or attempted to, until Mylene handed her some hand wipes. As if touching Lila had been filthy to her.

“Is even touching me that bad?” Lila asked, acting pitiful.

A long pause. Several of the classmates glanced between each other. They all seemed to want to say something, but couldn’t seem to bring themselves to.

“You stink.”

Except for Juleka, who was glaring at Lila.

Lila gaped.

“What?”

Did…she mean that literally or was she just being juvenile?

Kim actually pinched his nose. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to say anything, but you kind of reek.”

Lila clenched her fists, her anger growing and her skin starting to turn red. “How dare you?!”

"Like...you stink...and you stink. Figuratively and physically." Kim said, sounding nasally with his nose plugged.

“Kind of smells wet and musty.” Nino muttered.

“I was thinking it smelled more like a dumpster.” Mylene noted.

“It’s probably her soul.” Alix muttered, shooting Lila a dark glare.

Marinette gasped and spun on Lila. “Wait! Lila, didn’t you jump in the Seine earlier?”

Lila flushed, embarrassed at the reminder and the realization that her shower earlier had only done the bare minimum for her hair. “It wasn’t by choice!”

The other teens gave Lila disgusted looks.

“You…do know the Seine isn’t the cleanest, right?” Ivan asked.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Lila exclaimed. “It was that damn Ladybug who splashed me with water!”

Several of the classmates bristled at that and the insult to their city’s hero.

“She was putting the pyre out.” Alya countered, looking up the video on her phone. “Otherwise you would have been burned. And then you would have died. And none of this would even be up for discussion right now.”

“Really, you could show a little more appreciation for Ladybug rescuing you.” Adrien said, narrowing his eyes at Lila. “Even if she wasn’t your best friend.”

He knew she wasn’t. He had been there when Ladybug herself had confronted Lila on her lies, so of course he knew that they weren’t friends. Not that anyone else did. But the reminder of that particular lie and Ladybug’s recent threat brought out a level of fear within her that she hadn’t experienced before.

She could almost swear that she felt Ladybug’s gaze on her.

Lila silently fumed momentarily but forced herself to calm and steady her nerves.

Remember, she was still the one in control here. Not the school. Not these classmates. And certainly not Ladybug!

She closed her eyes and let out a breath.

Oh well. She gave it a try and it didn’t work. An annoyance, but ultimately, no real loss. She was still leaving. And they had nothing they could pin on her.

Rose was the one who collected the money. The school and teachers were the ones who hadn’t verified her paperwork. Gabriel had been the one to hire her to spy on his own son. Hawk Moth had been the one to use her. And Ladybug had been the one who didn’t protect her.

Really, wasn’t it their own fault?

“If that’s how you all feel, then I’ll just leave.” Lila said, looking away in a manner she was sure looked dejected. Such a look would normally lead people to feel some pity for her and some remorse for anything they had done.

Here though, it just made her look petulant.

None of the classmates were impressed. Several looked ready to argue. Maybe to even try to brave the stench around her and force her to stay and admit to her acts.

Except…

“The one thing I don’t understand though is why did you keep doing it? Why all the lies?” Rose asked.

“Yeah,” Alya agreed. “Looking back, your lies were all over the place and didn’t amount to much. Not until the fake charity scam, anyway, and you were bound to get caught. What was even the point of it all?”

What was the point? Was she serious? It was everything.

Lila rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Like any of you would have really cared about me if you hadn’t thought I had something you could use.”

They all just stared at her incredulously.

“Um…but we would have.”

Lila paused, blinking in confusion.

“What?”

Rose brought her hands up. “We would have liked you regardless, Lila! You didn’t have to lie!”

“And even if you do lie,” Mylene continued, “we still could have forgiven it and liked you anyway.”

“We may not have been happy about being lied to, but we could have understood. Maybe even helped.” Ivan stated, rubbing his head.

Marinette stepped forward. “I told you before Lila. We could be friends when you stopped lying.”

Lila stared at her. Was she serious?

That was…

Lila gaped at them all in disbelief. None of them argued. Many even nodded their heads in agreement.

She couldn’t believe it…

That was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard!

Who actually forgives people for things like that? Even little acts that seemed weird were often enough to turn people off. Even good qualities like leadership, prioritizing, and professionalism could be twisted and used against the person. This was supposed to be a world where any flaw should be enough to ruin someone and warrant raking them over the coals!

And these idiots were just…fine with it?

Honestly, it was no wonder she was able to get away with so much! These idiots were practically begging to be manipulated!

Lila forced tears to her eyes. “You would be willing to forgive me? Just like that?”

“Well, not now, no.” Adrien said, finally speaking up.

Lila stared. Because…this was Adrien. Adrien Agreste who was Paris’s Sunshine Child and seemingly incapable of holding a grudge. Or standing up for himself.

And…he was going to refuse to forgive her?

“I figured your initial claims about knowing famous celebrities was just to make people like you. We could have forgiven you for that.”

His eyes narrowed.

“But then you used your lies to hurt people. And in ways you had to go well out of the way to do.”

“What?! No, I didn’t—”

But he cut her off.

“You tried to get Marinette expelled. You stole from all of us and made Rose’s charity work into a criminal act. And while we’re at it…” He drawled, making Lila nervous. “Maybe we can discuss how you’ve been spying on me for my father?”

Lila tensed briefly before putting on a wounded expression.

“That was just the akuma making things up!”

“Yeah, I spoke with my father about that.” Adrien continued, sounding…particularly cold. “Oh, and by the way, you’re fired.”

“Fired?” Lila balked. She clenched her fists and her shoulders raised in growing ire. “What do you mean ‘fired’?!”

Adrien steepled his fingers together as if he was trying to think. “Um, how else can I say it? You’re being let go. Your department’s being downsized. You’re part of an outplacement. We’re going in a different direction. We’re not picking up your option. Take your pick. I’ve got more.”

She grit her teeth.

She’d known from her call with Nathalie earlier that they were firing her. Part of her had believed that it was simply due to Witch Hunter’s control. But if that was the case, they shouldn’t remember it now. Though it could be that they remember the initial claim from Witch Hunter that brought them under her influence, but even then, there wouldn’t be any proof.

No…this had to be intentional. Given her suspicions of Gabriel, she had considered that he would cut ties, but to do it like this? Through Adrien? In front of everyone?

Oh. She was going to make him pay.

Outside of Lila’s thoughts of revenge and misery, the classmates realized something about Adrien’s totally cool and not at all corny or referenced speech.

Kim stared. “Dude…did you really just…”

Nino held up a hand. “Let him have this.” He wiped away a fake tear. “I’m so proud.”

Muffled chuckling from others indicated that they all knew what he had been referencing.

Except for Marinette, who was looking around in confusion. Because sure, Adrien was being cool just then and it was kind of funny to see Lila get some comeuppance, but what was all the snickering for? “Wait…what was that about?”

Adrien spun on her in shock. “Wait—you’ve never seen Emperor’s New Groove?”

Marinette blinked, uncertain. “Um…no?”

He took her hands in his, looking so serious that this had to be a matter of grave importance. “We must rectify this immediately. Will you come watch the movie with me? Father is being unusually lenient about things to make up for everything with Lila that he’ll probably allow a hangout this weekend.” He smiled. “So would you like to binge watch movies together?”

Oh. Oh, Marinette thought she was over this. But clearly not as she felt her face flush and her heart leap into her throat. Her brain was short circuiting because this was…this was a date with Adrien? ANOTHER date with Adrien? THREE dates with Adrien? That she hadn’t even had to be the one to ask him for? Just what is life right now? Was this life? Was this a dream? Lila finally outted as a liar and Adrien agreeing to spend time with her…this felt like a dream.

At best, she was only able to nod. And Adrien’s smile in response was near blinding. She didn’t even notice the way their classmates grinned or gave each other high fives.

…or the way Lila was turning red in her growing ire.

Lila scratched angrily at her neck. Hard enough to leave marks.

Not only did he fire her, but now he was ignoring her and just flirting right in front of her?! It was bad enough she was revealed and chased around for the past few hours thanks to an akuma. Then betrayed by Hawk Moth. And then threatened by Ladybug. But this…this was just adding insult to injury by this point!

She wanted to say something—anything to break up this delightful little scene and wipe that happy look off their faces.

Sometimes, spite overcame reason.

“Oh please!” She shouted, drawing everyone’s gazes away from the cute scene and back to Lila where she was pointing at Adrien in anger. “The only reason he’s firing me is because I know he’s Hawk Moth!”

A long pause.

Alya looked at Adrien before turning back to Lila, eyebrow raised. “You mean Adrien?”

The blond in question paled and drew in on himself. It wasn’t true, but what if she brought up some ‘evidence’ like his tendency to disappear during akuma fights? Would anyone else believe her? Especially given how he’d messed up before and inadvertently helped Lila to create prime akuma material?

“Adrien isn’t Hawk Moth!” Marinette insisted, looking angry, and Adrien felt a combination of relief and admiration for the girl.

“Yeah!” Nino agreed, wrapping an arm around Adrien’s shoulders and holding out the other hand in front of them like he was trying to ward off Lila or perhaps her stench. “Don’t be talking about my boy like that!”

“Wow.” Kim muttered. “You’ve told some bad lies before but that takes the cake.”

“Shame on you, Lila!”

Lila reared back in shock at the direction this went. “What?! NO! I meant Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth!”

But people were just…rolling their eyes and looking away from her.

She held her hand to her chest in earnesty. Her other hand went to scratching her side, which kind of spoiled the effect. “He knows I’m a threat and he’s trying to discredit me!”

A long pause.

“You’ve already discredited yourself, Lila.”

“Yeah, it sounds like you’e just saying anything at this point.”

“She’s just mad that Mr. Agreste is letting her go.”

“After everything she did, I don’t blame him.”

“The guy os a jerk, but come on. Hawk Moth? Really?”

No one was even considering what she had to say now. If it wasn’t clear before, it was now.

Lila had lost any credibility.

Several of the classmates were gathered around Adrien, trying to support and comfort him over the accusations. She had a feeling that even if she had irrefutable evidence, they still wouldn’t believe it. Not now, anyway. It grated at her, but at this point, there was nothing she could do.

There was nothing she could do and she had just wasted her last trump card to no effect. And if it got back to Gabriel that she had accused him…

All the better to get out now then.

“Hey, wait!” Alix shouted as she noticed Lila trying to sneak away. “We’re not done here!”

Honestly, it was perfect timing that the teacher arrived to start class.

“All right, class! To your seats!” Bustier said, smiling nicely in her usual fashion.

And it looked like that would be the end of it. With Bustier back, there would be no further pressing of Lila. No retribution. No way to hold her accountable.

Alya for her part tried though. She raised her hand and called out insistently. “Wait! Ms. Bustier! Lila has been—”

Bustier shook her head. “I’m sorry, Alya, but it will have to wait. We’ve missed part of the school day as it is.” She paused and turned to Lila. “Oh, Lila! Your mother and the Principal are waiting for you in his office.”

Lila smiled politely. “Thank you. I’ll head right there.”

This was it then. A final meeting and she would be out of this school and out of Paris.

…though maybe after she takes a more thorough shower first, she thought to herself as she scratched at her neck.

Still, she couldn’t help but send one last smirk back at her now former classmates as she walked away. She hadn’t managed to pull them back under her sway, and she couldn’t say she had won.

But she could at least find some satisfaction in the growls and shouts of anger as she left them behind.

__________________

In the Principal’s office, the adults had a…rather interesting conversation of their own once Lila had departed.

“Good heavens! I didn’t know how much longer I could stand that smell.” Principal Damocles asked as he opened a window to try and freshen the air.

Amara Rossi took her seat in front of the desk, feeling a bit lightheaded herself. “Did something happen today? Science class? Chemicals, perhaps?”

“It could have been an akuma attack. We had one just earlier.” He replied.

Her eyes darkened. She was reminded of the constant prolonged akuma attacks that disrupt daily living and the inept superheroes who allowed them to persist. “I see. That will be one thing we will no longer have to worry about once we leave, at least.”

“Quite right.” He agreed kindly as he went to his files to pull out Lila’s paperwork. “I do hope that Lila’s new school will be better suited to accommodate all of her illnesses.”

Amara shook her head, uncertain of what she just heard. “I beg your pardon?”

“Of course we did try to adjust to Lila’s needs as we were made aware of them. Especially with her little…fibbing illness. But it was difficult without official documentation to clarify what she had and the best ways to address them. And we were never able to get clarification during her stay here.” He rested the paperwork on his desk and looked up to make eye contact with Mrs. Rossi. “We of course are not judging, but it would be prudent for you to make the appropriate arrangements prior to her arrival at her new school, wherever it may be.” He puffed up in pride. “And of course we will be more than happy to assist in sending over documentation as well—”

“No wait. Hold on.” Amara interrupted him. “What needs are you talking about?”

Needless to say, once Lila was out of the room, it didn’t take long for them to notice things weren’t adding up. And the conversation that followed ended up being…

“What tinnitus?”

Quite informative.

“What fall down the stairs?!”

With certain parties being made aware of things they hadn’t known previously.

“WHAT LYING DISEASE?!!”

By the end of it, both adults were in shock.

Damocles wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, clearly…unnerved to say the least. “I…erm…take it that some of these things might have been said…er…erroneously?”

Amara covered her face with her left hand, exasperated. “Unless my daughter has been under an akuma’s influence for the past several months the school has been closed.”

He frowned at that, unnerved. “On that note, I’ve been trying to reach out to you for some time about your daughter’s absences. Have you not gotten my calls?”

“I only received one or two. And Lila warned me not to answer because you were akumatized.” She paused in thought for a moment before lowering her hand and looking to the Principal. “Has the school been closed at all? Lila said you had been akumatized and that the school had been shut down, which was why she had to stay home for so long.”

Damocles blanched at that. “It was only the once! Well…twice actually, with the attempted mass akumatization during that one incident. But I assure you, madam, that the school was never closed. Certainly not for more than a day at any rate!”

She frowned, unsure. “But…the heroes…”

“Are quite adept at their job for youngsters!” Damocles hurriedly told her. “Akuma battles are normally finished within a couple of hours. Some have lasted overnight at most. There is only one to my knowledge that continued for a few days, but that was a rare exception and the damage was minimal.” Though the harm to Chloe’s mental state couldn’t be quantified.

“Oh…” She murmured. Wow. While Lila’s complaints had dampened her view of the city’s heroes, she had known her coworkers and the city at large seemed to admire them greatly. She regretted that she had never really listened to their gossip about them, but she was grateful she had never spoken up on what she had believed. Otherwise she would likely be a laughing stock at work.

He shook his head. “But no akuma has lasted for months, I assure you! In fact,” He said, reaching to his monitor and turning it so that they both could see the screen, “the Ladyblog should have all the facts about the akumas and our heroes!”

Amara observed the blog, curious. It was well made. Perhaps they could get the designer to help update the embassy site.

But on point, the blog listed news reports and updates. Hero sightings. Events. Akuma attacks. And in particular, the most recent attack…

“Wait!” She gasped. “Is that Lila?!”

From there, it had been a simple matter of reviewing the footage from the latest akuma attack.

Including the incident where Lila had shoved an innocent girl to the ground in front of the mob. (“That would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. A bright student and the Class Representative. But…er…she and Lila haven’t quite seen eye to eye and there was an…incident a few weeks ago…”)

As well as a compiled list that had been taken of every claim made by the akuma—Witch Hunter? She was apparently a classmate of Lila’s. And according to the Ladyblog, she had been a victim of Lila’s lies, which had resulted in her akumatization and targeting of Lila. (“My word!”)

And worst of all, a video of Lila tied to a pyre and surrounded by a mob of people wanting her to burn. In and of itself, it was horrifying. Especially for any parent to see their child in such a state.

But for Lila…it was like she didn’t think it was real. Like she didn’t think she was in any actual danger. Or she thought this was a game.

And that, Amara found most terrifying.

“This is…” She muttered in shock. She couldn’t even begin to describe it. Her daughter, tied to a pole. About to be lit on fire. All because she had been lying this entire time? Not just lying, but stealing from her peers? Framing people? And she didn’t dare say it, but from some of her statements in the video and the akuma’s claims, it almost looked as if she had been working with a known terrorist!

She had known her daughter wasn’t perfect or innocent. But this much? To go this far? And for what? She couldn’t even begin to understand…

“Madam, I…think this is a most serious matter.” Damocles stated. He was trying to be delicate but…well, really. How can one approach this sort of thing delicately?

“I agree.” She stated, resolutely. “Lila has been playing everyone it seems. But now that we know, what should we do from here?”

Damocles stroked his beard as he thought. “I admit we have never had a situation this extreme before. But if you will permit, I believe there may be a way to approach this…”

The rest of their time was spent discussing the matter at length and coming to an agreement. Damocles admittedly had his failings, particularly when it came to stubborn and selfish students with access to parents in positions of authority and willingness to abuse that authority to get their way. But when he wasn’t having to work around such barriers and had parents who were actually working with him instead of obstructing the school regulations, it was substantially easier to make appropriate accommodations and plan accordingly.

Which is what Lila ended up walking in to once she was asked to return to the office.

“Is everything settled?” She asked sweetly, her expression belying her earlier anger. Honestly, her only concern was finishing this as quickly as possible and going home to shower. A good three or four times.

She forced herself to ignore the way the adults in the room turned their heads away from her with upturned noses. She took advantage of the moment and attempted to unobtrusively scratch under her arm. Honestly, this itching was only getting worse! How had she not noticed it earlier?

“Well, Lila.” Damocles coughed as he turned on a fan. “Your mother and I have been discussing things and we couldn’t help but notice a few discrepancies.”

Lila froze. She steeled her expression to hide her rising panic. Because no. Not here. Not after everything.

“Lila…” Her mother called, her tone harsh and warning of her slowly boiling anger. “You told me that the school had been closed. And here I come to find that not only had it still been open and running all this time, but that you had been excusing your absences with claims of trips around the world!”

Shit.

Why had she left them alone?!

“But there were akuma attacks!” She insisted. “And the school was closed!”

“Not for weeks at a time!” Her mother exclaimed, furious. “And what is all this I’m hearing about your actions since you got here? Lying to your teachers? Stealing from a charity? Getting another student expelled?!”

Here, Lila straightened. “She had been bullying me and I had only been trying to protect myself.”

“Then why did you claim a lying disease to have her brought back?” Damocles questioned.

Lila hugged herself to look sad and sympathetic—and also used the opportunity to scratch at her side again. “I was threatened.” She admitted morosely. “Adrien said—”

“Adrien? Adrien Agreste?” Her mother interrupted. “You mean the boy you said was your boyfriend?”

Lila hesitated for a moment before a plan came together and she nodded. “Yes. It was why I wanted us to leave Paris. He’s been harassing me, Mama.” She shuddered and hitched her breath as if in fear. “He threatened me if I didn’t take back the allegations. He’s been cheating on me with her, Mama!”

“Interesting. Very interesting.” Her mother said in a blithe manner that only made Lila more nervous. “Because according to this Ladyblog, it sounds like you were the one harassing him. As well as this Marinette girl, regardless of whether she is his girlfriend or not.”

Lila snapped up and gaped at her mother. The woman never bothered with the Ladyblog. Lila had been sure she hadn’t known it even existed!

“You can’t trust the Ladyblog! It’s just a teenager’s fan site! It’s nothing but lies!”

Her mother glared down at her. “Like this informative interview of you claiming to be Ladybug’s ‘bestie’?”

Lila paled.

“I was only trying to get people to like me and make friends.” She said, lowering her head in shame. Not that she had any, of course, but it paid to look the part at least. “I didn’t think anyone would see it.”

“Lila, the Ladyblog is extremely popular. It’s a central news source for anyone in Paris to know what the most recent update is regarding any akuma attack! Anyone would have seen it!” Damocles exclaimed.

“Even if it wasn’t,” Her mother continued. “You still shouldn’t have been claiming things like that! What if Hawk Moth saw it and thought it was true? What if he tried to kidnap or hurt you?”

She wasn’t worried about that. He wouldn’t have harmed her since she was working for him.

Well, Lila realized with a small wince. Not anymore.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” Lila said, looking away.

“Getting back on point.” Damocles interrupted. “There is the problem regarding all of the days you’ve missed. Your teacher was led to believe that you were out of town while you had informed your mother that the school was closed. This is a serious matter, young lady.”

There was no way to lie that she hadn’t done it now that both of them were aware and on to her. But she could still try to reframe things in her favor.

“I’m sorry. I had just needed a break for a while and I didn’t know how to tell you.” Lila spoke, tearfully. “It was just…all of the akuma attacks and everything with Adrien and the bullying…it was too much!”

She sobbed into her hands.

“I just couldn’t take it! I’m sorry!”

She continued her sobs for a good minute. Since she had her face covered and her head lowered, she couldn’t quite see how the adults in the room were responding. Sneaking a peak got her a glimpse at best lest she risk them seeing her.

Her mother looked drawn. The Principal seemed tired. Neither of them so much as tried to get closer to Lila to comfort her. Though that may very well have been due to the smell, and she cursed Witch Hunter and Ladybug both for causing the situation in the first place and for not fixing this with the Magical Cure as well.

Really, she thought hatefully. This was all their fault. Rose’s. The class’s. Hawk Moth’s. And especially Ladybug’s. She never would have ended up in this position if not for her!

“I’m sorry, Lila. If you were truly having such trouble, then you should have spoken to one of us about it and we may have been able to help you.” Damocles sighed. “I’m afraid there’s nothing else for it now. It’s already gone much too far for us to be able to overlook.”

Amara nodded, resigned. “I understand.”

Lila sniffled and raised her head.

“So I guess I’ll be expelled?” She asked with a mournful tone.

Okay. All right. So she would be sent to another school somewhere. A boarding school perhaps? Some sort of alternative or otherwise stricter school meant to “rehabilitate“ her, no doubt. She could handle this. It was still someplace new where no one would recognize her. It wouldn’t take too much before she could just start over. Within two months, no one there would even really know why she had transferred.

She could still make this work for her.

Damocles, however, looked at her in surprise.

“Expel you? What are you talking about? We don’t expel students for truancy.”

Lila froze.

“What?”

“You will be suspended for a time.” He continued. “Though I believe given the nature of your actions, it would be better for your suspension to be altered so you remain on campus and under constant supervision.”

Lila stared. She would swear she could hear cracks forming in her reality.

“And we will have to keep you in a separate classroom as well to remove any...distractions.”

Crack.

“Of course.“ her mother agreed. “I’ll be removing her computer and phone for the time being as well. Depending on how things go, we may have to dispose of them altogether.”

Lila felt her eye starting to twitch.

“This will be an opportunity for you to catch up on all the coursework you missed.”

Crack.

“And there will be a hearing as well.” Damocles continued.

Lila jumped to her feet and slammed her hand on the desk.

“But—but you expelled Marinette immediately without a hearing!”

Damocles appeared flustered at that. “My actions at that time were…admittedly hasty, especially considering that it turned out they were based on a lie...” He gave her a sharp look at that. “But given what appeared to be dangerous and escalating behavior at the time, I had only acted in a way to protect the other students in this institution.”

He clasped his hands. “But less school is not the appropriate answer for a student whose crime was skipping school. Especially in this case given that Lila may very well need to be held back a grade as it is.”

“What?!” Lila demanded.

He gave her a dry look, unimpressed with her reaction or the repeated interruptions. “Young lady, regardless of your reasons, you’ve missed months of your precious education. Surely you didn’t think you would be able to graduate alongside your classmates. At this point, you won’t be able to get the approval from the conseil de classe to move on to the next grade, much less be prepared for the brevet.”

Lila blinked. “The what?”

Her mother groaned and covered her face. “It’s the mandated test required in secondary school into get your diploma, Lila.”

Lila gaped, glancing back and forth between the two, as if expecting this to be a joke. “But…college in France is just scuola media! It’s middle school! How do they require a diploma?!”

“It’s a national requirement and certification of the knowledge and skills acquired.” Damocles explained, ignoring the way mother and daughter were reacting as he instead puffed out his chest and straightened his jacket. “And we here at Francois-Dupont are dedicated to our students and making the appropriate accommodations to help them succeed! Regardless of any…”

He paused, sending Lila a look. “Complications.”

Amara sighed but faced Damocles. “So what would you recommend?”

He brightened at that. “The best answer to get young Lila back on track would be an alternative remedial program in which she can remain in school and make up for what she missed in a setting where she can be more closely monitored to keep something like this from happening again.”

Remain here? In Dupont? With everyone aware of her lies?

“You can’t do this!” Lila shouted. But to no avail as the adults paid her no mind at this point.

“What about the fraud?” Her mother asked. “I believe she had solicited funds under false pretenses?”

“Oh, that is outside our jurisdiction.” Damocles answered, waving it off. “We can only deal in school and school-related matters. Fraud is a legal issue, so that will be going to the courts as a separate case. But on that note, I would recommend getting a lawyer.” He said, turning serious.

“Hopefully, that won’t be necessary.” Amara replied. “As we will be making arrangements with the students who started the charity and reimburse the funds Lila took.”

“WHAT?!”

“Returning everything you bought with the money to the stores you purchased them from should be a good place to start,” the woman continued, “assuming they will even accept the exchange once they know what you did. Which you will be telling them if they didn’t already know from that akuma.”

“But…but I don’t have them!” Lila exclaimed, suddenly realizing that she had worn Marinette’s clothes back home and left her designer items at the bakery.

“Then you will just have to find some other way to make up the lost funds.” Her mother stated, dismissively.

Lila stomped her foot, the picture of a child throwing a tantrum. “But that’s not fair!”

“You stole money from your classmates, Lila!” Her mother bit out sharply. “Giving back what you took is the very least you could do!”

“But I can’t pay it!” Lila yelled, scratching at her chin in fury.

“Then you can use your now copious amount of free time to take on some extra employment. Because you won’t be sitting around at home doing nothing or getting into more trouble while I’m not there. And you certainly won’t be going out with your friends—assuming you have any left after this mess.”

“But…where am I supposed to find employment?!”

Her mother looked through her tablet and pulled up a number of listings when she then handed to Damocles to print off. “There are always openings for extra hands. Odd jobs. A part time job. I don’t care if it’s something like washing dishes at a diner, you will be doing it. And whatever you earn is going to go to straight into the bank until you pay back every euro you took.”

Lila gasped. “I’m fourteen! That’s child labor!”

“That didn’t seem to be an issue when you were modeling for the Gabriel line without telling me.” Her mother countered, growing more furious.

Lila glared back, enraged and for once incapable of speech.

“Whatever you have to say, this is your own fault for stealing the money in the first place. And also using it when you knew it wasn’t yours!” The woman shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t even understand how you thought that was supposed to work.”

“We were supposed to be out of Paris already!” Lila muttered darkly.

Unfortunately for her, her mother heard her well enough. “Which I suspect was the real reason you suddenly wanted to leave, wasn’t it?”

Lila stayed silent. Merely sitting petulantly and scratching at her arm.

Her mother looked down at her daughter. She had never seen her like this before. And now that she knew what the girl had been up to, she wondered if she had been blind to the truth. And for how long.

She sighed.

“You dug yourself into this, Lila. And you won’t be running away from it. You are going to pay back what you took, no matter how long it takes. If this does end up going to court, you are going to agree to any deal they offer and you will make this right. And if you are very very lucky, they will accept your apology and your return of the money, and not pursue harsher charges. Because if they do, you will be accepting those charges and any consequences that come with them.”

Damocles coughed, daring to interrupt. “Am I to presume she will be losing her cellphone and laptop as well?”

“That would be a given.” Her mother replied. “Though at the rate this is going, I may very well sell those off as well to contribute to her debt.”

“What?!” Lila screeched. “But how am I supposed to do schoolwork then? Or keep in contact?”

“With pen and paper like everyone else. And you won’t need to worry about contacting anyone since you are going to be grounded for the foreseeable future.”

Lila groaned and sunk further into the office chair. She tried to keep her arms crossed, but couldn’t hold it for longer than a couple seconds before she felt the itchiness again and started scratching at her arms once more.

“And would you stop scratching yourself?”

“I can’t help it!” Lila cried, spilling real tears for once.

The lighting in the office was decent. Adequate to see by, but not quite enough to get a full detail of what they were looking at. In an attempt to help, Damocles turned on his desk lamp and moved it shine on Lila, putting her skin in much clearer display.

And particularly, the red and splotchy areas that were slowly spreading on her body.

“Good heavens!” Damocles shouted as he went to his phone to call the nurse. “That is an extensive rash, dear girl!”

Her mother grabbed her arm to look closer. “What did you do? Take a bath in the Seine?”

“I didn’t have a choice! I was being chased!” Lila exclaimed, attempting to pull her arm out of her mother’s hold so as to scratch more.

“That…would explain the smell.” Damocles noted before the receiver picked up and he quickly turned his attention to requesting the school nurse’s assistance.

“Did you at least wash it off? Didn’t you shower when you got home?” Her mother asked, exasperated as she had to keep hold of Lila’s arm to prevent her from scratching herself.

Lila hunched over. “No. I had to call you first.”

Her mother groaned in response, much to Lila’s irritation. She glared up at the woman who should be reassuring her own child in this hardship but instead was merely shaking her head at Lila like this was something she had simply brought upon herself!

How could she?! What sort of mother would be so cruel?

She barely paid any attention when the nurse entered the office with some ointment in hand. She only realized what they were doing when they started to slather the gel on her skin, which felt gross and humiliating. Made all the moreso with the way the nurse and her own mother couldn’t fight the looks of disgust at the smell that still covered her. Even Ladybug calling her out in front of Adrien hadn’t been so humiliating.

But it would get worse.

Damocles coughed. “We will resume this discussion another time. Madam, if you are willing, I can arrange a meeting with the students involved and allow you to discuss reparations in an informal…non-court setting.”

“If you please, that would be preferred. In the meantime, I will be taking Lila home so we can deal with all of…” She paused, waving her arms around and trying to think of the right words before simply shrugging with a sigh. “This.”

“Wait! I can’t go out there! Everyone will see me like this!”

It was perhaps out of some love as a mother, or just some small mercy that had Amara Rossi agree to take her daughter through a roundabout path out of the school. One that allowed Lila to take hallways that were less used and offered less visibility in and out of the classrooms.

And most importantly allowed her to avoid Bustier’s class.

After getting instructions from the school nurse regarding skin care to get rid of the rashes, Amara thanked both Damocles and the nurse before taking Lila outside. The two made it to the front of the school with few being there to witness Lila’s ‘walk of shame’ so to speak. It was probably more than Lila deserved, but her mother was hardly cruel. Tough when she had to be, certainly.

There was now just the final leg of the trip. Amara started down the steps of the school and made it to the bottom before she realized her daughter wasn’t following her.

“Lila!” She hissed. “Get down here!”

“But…” Lila hesitated, looking up and behind her to where Bustier’s class would have a perfect view of her exit.

“Now, Lila. Or do you still want to be out here when classes are over?”

Lila forced herself to move down the steps—both as quickly as possible to try and lessen the amount of time anyone had to see her and as carefully as possible to avoid anything touching the ointment on her skin.

“When we get home, the first thing you’ll be doing is taking a shower to clean yourself properly this time. We will be going through your room as well and taking back your laptop, your phone, and anything I even think you may have bought with that stolen money.”

Lila grumbled but didn’t argue.

“Yes, mother.”

At this point, she just prayed no one had seen her.

__________________

They saw her.

“Is that Lila?”

“It is! And her mom!”

“What’s that on Lila’s arms?”

“Oh. Wow.”

Bustier had stepped out of the room for what she said would be a minute while leaving the class with some assignment to do until she returned. Naturally, given the drama of the day, no one was really able to focus on the schoolwork. So instead, they took to quietly chatting with one another. Or in Alya’s case, nudging Marinette repeatedly as the girl tried to wrap her head around the prospect of having a date with Adrien.

No, THREE dates. Wait—were they dates? Like…date-dates?

Fortunately for her own peace of mind, her imagination was put on hold by the exclamations of those near the windows. Helpless to the draw of wanting to know what all the fuss is about, Marinette and the others on her side of the class joined those at the windows to see just what it was about Lila that had grabbed their attention.

And she had to say: Yikes.

“That has to be the worst rash I’ve ever seen.”

“Looks like that dip in the Seine did not agree with her.”

Marinette winced in sympathy.

As Ladybug, she had a few instances of having to make use of the Seine or the sewers as an exit, so she knew full well how nasty the water could be. The suit and resulting Cure would normally rid her of any of the water or contaminants or so Tikki said, but that didn’t stop Marinette from taking a good long shower afterwards. Or three. Just to feel clean afterwards, despite Tikki’s reassurance.

What happened this time?

She looked down to her purse, but the little clasp remained resolutely closed. Even when she tried to pull at it.

Tikki...what did you do?

“I feel kind of bad.” Rose murmured, resting a hand on the window. “She only jumped into the Seine because of me. Because I had everyone hunting her.”

“I don’t.” Alix replied. “You were only after her because of what she did.”

Nino nodded in agreement. “Yeah. And if the info on the Ladyblog regarding Lila’s crimes are any indication, she may have been doing it to help Hawk Moth.”

“We can’t prove that, though.” Ivan noted.

Rose hugged herself.

Marinette hugged her as well. “Whether or not Lila deserved it, it happened because of Hawk Moth. Not you. So please don’t blame yourself, Rose.”

Adrien came up next to them and rested a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “If we try to question who is truly at fault, we’ll be dragging this out forever. All we can do at this point is try to figure out where to go from here.”

“Hey, that’s right!” Mylene realized. “Rose, what are you going to do about the charity?”

Rose looked down. “I don’t know. It’s kind of pointless now since we don’t have the money anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t try again.” Nino reassured her.

Adrien nodded in agreement. “Plus Alya and I were talking earlier. If you still have the ledger of the funds, you could try to bring up charges against Lila to get the money returned. My father has some attorneys our company frequently uses for any legal issues. I could see about getting one of them involved to find out how to proceed on this.”

“Dude, seriously? Is your dad cool with this?” Nino asked, completely taken aback that the man would do such a thing.

“It’s only the beginning of what he could do to make up for his part in this.” Adrien muttered.

Nino blinked at his friend and his…strangely dark expression. Then he grinned and slapped Adrien on the back. “Good for you, man!”

“But what about Lila though?” Ivan asked.

“Murder?” Juleka asked.

Which of course, none of them took seriously.

Right? Right.

“If Lila’s mom’s attitude is any indication, I don’t think Lila will be getting away with the theft.” Kim said, looking out the window in the direction the two ladies left. “She looked maaaaaaad.”

“She is angry from what I have heard.” Max said from his seat. He didn’t look up from his tablet and was the only one aside from Nathaniel to not move from his desk. “Apparently Lila had been lying to her mother and the school about why she’s been absent for months. And then with the theft on top of that, plus all of the other things revealed thanks to Witch Hunter, I believe there is a 97.3% chance that Lila will be grounded for the foreseeable future.”

“Wait. How do you know that?” Kim asked.

“Markov told me.”

“Oh.”

A pause.

“And…how does HE know tha—”

Max simply disregarded him and turned to Rose. “You should probably discuss the matter with Lila’s mother. It sounds like she is taking the issue seriously and would like to meet with you and work this out appropriately.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” She said with a smile. Albeit a somewhat wary smile.

“So there may be a chance to get the money back then?” Ivan asked, hopefully.

“But wait—what about Prince Ali?” Alix realized.

This brought all eyes to Rose, who looked hurt at the reminder of her friend cutting off ties with her.

“Rose…” Marinette started.

She winced. “I…still have his email. I don’t know if he’ll talk to me, but…I can apologize. And I can try to make it right. I think…” She took a breath. “I think I understand now why he was so upset. He’s a Prince and must be used to a lot of people trying to use him.”

She hesitated, looking down.

“Lila was…probably that exact type of person. And she was able to use him through me—even if she didn’t know it.”

The others winced.

Yeah, it was probably a good thing they learned about Lila now before it got too serious. Who knows what would have happened if Lila had ever actually gotten to meet him? Or really any of the other celebrities they actually knew.

Rose bit her lip for a moment, then looked up. “I’ve been thinking…if I do get the money back…since the charity Lila had told us about doesn’t exist, we can’t donate the money as planned. I would like to give the funds to a charity with a similar purpose—I even found one that looks genuine and does a lot of good, but…” She frowned. “That’s still misleading to the people who originally donated.”

“So what will you do?”

“I have a log of everyone who donated since I had wanted everyone to get credit or some sort of ‘Thank You’ for helping. I can try to reach out to them and ask them what they want to do.” She brightened slightly. “Alya is also helping by putting a notice on the Ladyblog about what happened and what we’re doing so that anyone who did donate before can be alerted and know to contact me.“

Alya smiled. “It seems to be working so far. If anything, I’ve been more messages from people wanting to donate as well.

Mylene gasped in delight. “You may end up with even more funding for your charity, Rose.”

“Just as long as we make it clear it’s the real deal this time.” Alya agreed. “I posted the charity’s info on the website as well as some links to verification sites so people can check for themselves that it’s real. This way, we don’t run into the same problem we had with Lila or get accused of lying ourselves.”

Well, that was a relief. They had a plan and they were certainly taking this seriously.

“I’m glad for you, Rose.”

Rose smiled back. “Thank you. I know this doesn’t really fix everything, but it feels like the right thing to do.”

“Aww!”

The group hug that commenced was just what they all needed.

__________________

Tom and Sabine had quite the busy day. Especially with that girl who had come in earlier and snuck into Marinette’s room.

And the akuma. Though they were at least getting used to daily disruptions caused by those.

“I hope nothing came of it.” Sabine worried as she was finishing putting things away. “I’m sure she was doing something up in Marinette’s room.”

“I’m sure if anything happened, Marinette could handle it. And if she couldn’t, she would let us know.” Tom replied as he headed to the laundry room to put away their used aprons and towels.

There was silence for a bit.

Then…

“Honey?”

Sabine paused and turned towards her husband. “Yes, dear?”

“Did that girl ever come back with Marinette’s clothes?”

Confused, she started towards the laundry room where her husband was. “No, why?”

Tom turned to her, with some items in hand. “I think she left her things behind and the Miracle Ladybug Cure didn’t send them back.”

Sabine stared. “Oh my!” She reached forward. “These look practically brand new!”

“And expensive.” Tom added.

The two looked over the items before looking up at each other. With a nod, they seemed to come to the same conclusion.

“Early birthday gift for Mari!”

“We’ll take it to Roger.”

…not…so same conclusion, evidently.

Sabine gave Tom a flat look. Tom smiled embarrassedly and rubbed his head.

“Yes. We can take it to Rodger as part of the case.” He agreed, sheepishly.

Sabine sighed and shook her head.

“Though maybe we can discuss it with the school.” She mused. “Since that girl is a student there. And some of the things on the Ladyblog are a bit concerning…”

“Should we still press charges?” Tom asked, worried. “Let’s wait and speak with Roger tomorrow. And see what Marinette has to add.” Sabine said, taking the items from Tom and placing them in a safety box where they wouldn’t be mistaken as common items.

…or early birthday gifts.

__________________

Taking the Dragon Miraculous back to Fu was easy enough.

Apologizing for beaning him with a pot was less so.

“It is all right, Marinette. Really.” Fu assured her as he took the box back from her and restored the choker to it’s rightful place. “With the Miraculous Cure, I no longer have the injury.”

Marinette winced from her seat at the table. “Still, I feel really bad about it.”

He shook his head. “You did what you had to. The akuma’s influence was widespread by that point and the situation was dire.”

Especially since her kwami and the Guardian himself had both been affected as well.

He wouldn’t say he…approved with her methods. Or the headache it had caused him. But it had allowed her to defeat the akuma and restore things in the end. And truly, that was what mattered.

“It took a lot of strength from you today, Marinette. I am proud of what you accomplished.” He told her as he returned the Miracle Box to its hiding place.

“I just wish I could have helped Rose more.” She murmured.

“You did everything you could, Marinette!” Tikki insisted.

“It is difficult, but sometimes there is only so much that can be done, even with the aid of the Miraculous.” Fu returned to his seat at the table. “But I sense that is not the only thing on your mind today. Am I wrong?”

Marinette gasped. “Oh, Master! There’s something we’ve discovered today. Something really important!”

Tikki gasped. “That’s right!”

The two nodded to each other and spoke at the same time.

“Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth!”

“Adrien invited you to see a movie!”

Marinette froze, turning red at the reminder.

Tikki, for her part, blinked at Marinette in confusion.

“Wait…you mean what Lila said earlier?”

“That’s right.” Marinette said, turning her attention to Fu and away from any distractions of stupidly cute blond boys. “Earlier today, Lila tried to claim that Gabriel Agreste was Hawk Moth.”

Fu frowned. “Marinette, are you sure about this? Lila Rossi was Hawk Moth’s accomplice. As well as an unrepentant liar. This may be a lie as well.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Lila tells lies if she thinks they’ll benefit her, but she’ll tell the truth if she thinks it could serve her more.”

Yeah, she knew that much from Lila’s attempt to sneak into her room and get dirt on her.

But more than that, Hawk Moth had betrayed Lila. After working with him all this time, someone she had…at least trusted she could use if not actually trusted had turned on her. And was even outright going to let the akuma kill her.

If Lila could be so spiteful for this long over Ladybug simply telling someone she had lied about knowing her, she couldn’t put it past the girl to not hold some grudge against Hawk Moth as well. And if she thought she knew who he was…

Well, if all else had failed her, there was no reason at that point not to try to reveal it.

“It would explain her connection to Gabriel Agreste as well.” Marinette reasoned. “He was a known recluse for a year before Adrien started school. He would keep Adrien from any events. Refused to let his friends come to visit him or for him to visit them. And wouldn’t even let Adrien have a birthday part.” She frowned, tapping her chin.

“So why would a man like that who is so protective of his son trust some random teenage girl with Adrien’s well being? Especially one he has never met who lied to his staff, forced her way into his home, manipulated his son into a photo op,” Not that she was bitter of course, “…and snuck into his personal office?”

Fu frowned, considering her words. “That is strange.”

“Exactly!” Marinette said, pushing closer to the table in earnest. “Even if she didn’t know he was Hawk Moth at the start, she still tried to get to him because of his control over Adrien. It was a connection she knew she could use, so it would benefit her. Which is Lila’s MO.” She said with a roll of her eyes.

She shook her head. “But this would explain why he would seemingly trust her. If he was Hawk Moth, that means he akumatized her before. Three times, even!”

Fu nodded. “The powers of the Butterfly would have let him know what she was like. If she was a willing assistant as Witch Hunter’s scroll proclaimed, he would have known.”

Tikki gasped. “It could also explain the mass akumatization when you had gotten expelled!”

Marinette gripped the table in growing anger. “They must have planned it! How else would he have known to have it ready?”

“Calm yourself, Marinette.” Fu reached out to place a hand over her own. “This is a good theory, but you don’t want to open yourself to an akuma. Especially not after everything that has already happened today.”

She wilted at that. “You’re right, Master. I’m sorry.”

“That is all right.” He assured her with a kind smile. “It is healthy to feel emotions, but you cannot let them overcome you.”

“But…” She hesitated. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

He paused for a moment, thinking it over as he took a sip of tea. “I had suspected once before that whomever had the Grimoire likely had both the missing Miraculous as well. After Gabriel Agreste had been akuamtized, I had wondered as you did whether it was simply coincidence.”

“Because the Butterfly user can’t akumatize himself, can he?” She asked.

He gestured to the tablet containing the translated Grimoire. “Normally, I would say not. But as you have learned, there are ways around any barrier. And as coincidences increase, at some point, we must ask how many coincidences are necessary before something is proven true.”

He smiled. “One such coincidence may be that he had the lost Grimoire. But another may be how convenient it was that he should be akumatized immediately when anyone may be suspecting him after its loss.”

She frowned, uncertain.

“Let us think on it for now, Marinette. And it will be best if we keep an eye on both Gabriel Agreste and Lila Rossi in the meantime.”

“Yes! Thank you, Master Fu!” She nodded before getting up and heading to the door.

“Goodbye, Master! Goodbye, Wayzz!” Tikki chimed before she flew into Marinette’s purse.

As Marinette walked down the street towards home with Tikki in tow, she continued to think over things. What she had learned. What Master Fu had told her. What she had experienced throughout the day.

“Oh!” She gasped as she realized something.

“What is it, Marinette?” Tikki asked from within the opening of the purse. They were mostly alone for the moment, so they could afford to speak if they did so quietly.

“Something I’d been meaning to ask you.” Marinette told her. “What happened with Lila today? The Cure normally fixes things to how they were before the akuma, so why was Lila covered in a full body rash?”

“The Cure sometimes acts in mysterious ways.” Tikki replied.

Marinette frowned. The answer was obviously vague. And Tikki’s refusal to meet her gaze indicated she knew more than she was letting on.

“Tikki…”

“Oh, look at the time! You should be getting home, Marinette!”

“TIKKI!”

__________________

Rose looked over her draft for what had to be the thirtieth time.

Excessive, maybe. But she wanted to make sure she was doing it right.

Ali,

I do not know if you will read this letter, or if it has even been permitted to reach you. At the very least, I am hoping for a chance to tell you from the bottom of my heart:

I am sorry.

While I had never meant to harm you, it doesn’t change the fact that you were harmed. And this harm could have been prevented had I been more cautious.

I could come up with any number of reasons as to why I chose to put my trust in the wrong person. The girl I had thought was promoting this charity was my friend. I wanted to believe the best in my friend. But that is no excuse.

If I truly had respect for you as a friend and as your station of Prince, I should have done my due diligence in ensuring the honesty of anyone I trusted. Especially before I tried to encourage you to trust them as well.

You were right. It was foolish of me.

From your perspective, it must have seemed as a sign that I did not take your friendship seriously. And I am deeply ashamed that I ever allowed that impression to anyone, but to you most of all.

If you choose not to forgive me, I understand. But I at least want you to know that I am going to make this right.

I am pursuing legal options against the girl in question. I do not know how much we will be able to see returned, but I fully intent to refund the donations to you and everyone else who had trusted me to do the right thing.

This may not fix anything. And you do not owe me anything from it. But I hope I can at least try to make up for my mistake and be the person you believed me capable of instead of the fool she turned me into.

Thank you for everything,

Rose

She took a breath.

Okay.

This was it then.

Any last words? Any final changes? Any regrets?

…no.

She shut her eyes and clicked ‘send’.

And finally exhaled. With the air, she breathed out all of her anxieties, fears, and doubts.

She had done what she could.

She was doing what she can.

That was…that was all anyone could expect of her.

All that she could expect of herself.

…

That didn’t make it not ache though.

But there was nothing for it now, she realized as she turned away from her computer to go to bed.

She wanted to fix things. Desperately so. But she couldn’t force Ali to accept her apology and forgive her anymore than she could force Lila to be honest.

Rose curled up under her covers and hugged her pillow close.

It was a small comfort. But one she was going to allow herself.

She hoped for the best. She always did.

But even if he didn’t…she would move forward and continue doing good. Just as he inspired her to.

She just…

A couple tears fell.

She had just wished he would be around to see it.

It would take another hour before she would fall asleep.

…

It would be another three hours before an email alert came up on her computer.

__________________

Ugh.

Lila fell onto her bed, huffing angrily.

This whole day sucked.

She was attacked by an akuma. Everyone turned on her. Hawk Moth was going to let her die. And even when everything was saved, everything was ruined.

Thanks, Rose. Thanks, Hawk Moth. Thanks, Ladybug.

And now she was stuck here in Paris and couldn’t even get away from any of it!

She groaned into her pillow. She couldn’t be too loud, though, as her mother was being annoyingly alert and “keeping an eye on her” now. The last thing she needed was to give her reason to suspect something was up and cause her to come barging into her room.

There was no escape this time. Not now that everyone knew.

She’d still have to deal with her class. Even worse, she’d have to see Adrien and Marinette making eyes at each other.

She’d still have to deal with the school. And now that they knew what she did, she wouldn’t be getting away with anything again.

She’d still have to deal with Hawk Moth, and his akumas would still be a risk for her, as well. She wouldn’t put it past him to try to take her out. What little power and control she had was gone now.

And worst of all…

…Ladybug.

That measly little bug and her damn threat against her. To follow her. To keep an eye on her. To be her…special friend.

Like she would really do that.

Lila turned over in her sheets, settling into her bed and getting comfortable.

Or trying, at least.

Something felt off. She just didn’t know what.

She glanced around her room. It was much more barren now since her mother had cleared out a lot of her belongings. Her laptop and cellphone were gone, as was the limited light they provided in the dark.

She huffed and turned over to face away from the door.

Half asleep, she glanced out the window.

Two glowing blue orbs were staring back.

She screamed.

__________________

A creak of a window opening and closing.

A giggle.

“Huh? Tikki? Zzat you?”

“I’m fine, Marinette. I was just checking on something.”

A yawn.

“What was it?”

Another giggle.

“Nothing important.”

Two blue eyes sent a glare out into the city.

“Nothing at all...”

#BURN THE WITCH!#witch hunter #ml fic #marinette dupain cheng #tikki #adrien agreste #rose lavillant #lila sucks

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