#long story short never underestimate the power of ACTUALLY COMMENTING on the fics you read

[vivelarevolution13]

hi, your fic “moving like a river of trouble crossing” kinda resonated with my soul and maybe even changed my life just a little bit, and i thought you deserved a better comment than my inarticulate ranting in the reblog tags yesterday.

the idea of shield hiring a therapist that looks like an older version of steve’s mother is unbelievably fucked up. the psychological warfare at play there is insane. and i love the parallel drawn to him first waking up from the ice and them trying to play this trick on him. he’s so much smarter than they give him credit for, everyone’s constantly underestimating him. i think that’s my favorite theme throughout this story; everyone is commodifying him in their own way, trying to stuff him in the box that they already made for him inside their heads.

the phrase “are you awake yet?” repeating over and over is so many different kinds of powerful. firstly, the way that it ties back to him waking up from the ice and his feelings of displacement in the world. secondly, that hazy, detached feeling that comes with depression, like you’re half-sleepwalking through your entire life, and no matter how hard you try to snap out of it and wake up, you can’t. i know that feeling well, and it emanates viscerally from this entire story. thirdly, it feels like a metaphor for the fact that he’s just drifting through life, doing what he’s told, following orders because he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do with himself.

obsessed with lina’s comment of “wrong place, wrong time” after the date. she’s right on so many levels, more right than she knows. each and every line of this story has so many layers, all of the characters feel three-dimensional, and the vibe is distinct and consistent.

the entire section following “pain, steve knows on an intimate level,” him cataloguing all of the hurt throughout his life, is a masterpiece. this story belongs in a museum. long sections of introspection like that are always hardest for me to write, and this is like poetry. i was searching for a handful of favorite lines to pick out to quote back at you but i can’t even pick.

all the symbolism in the movie that he’s watching (is this a real movie that you’re quoting from? if so that makes it so much better) tying into his memories of his mom dying, of becca and peggy and bucky and the line “steve was only ever as strong as the people propping him up.” 😭😭😭 i have no words for how deeply i can feel his pain and loss. he’s sitting there thinking about how he was never really alone when he was lonely back then, but now he is really alone, and there’s nothing to soothe the ache in his soul.

Rumlow communicating through riddles and insults and violence is everything to me. this actually may be my favorite iteration of him that i’ve ever read; he almost mirrors natasha in the way that he says everything but what he really means, pushing limits and pushing into people’s lives like a creeping vine. pushing himself right into steve’s space, nearly pushing steve over the edge.

i’m picking up on some desperate, hopeless undertones of the little scene with steve riding his motorcycle, risking his life senselessly just to feel something, trying to convince himself he’s grateful for this second chance at life. there’s so much powerful character development in such a short scene, this is masterful.

the way that the fight between steve and rumlow is practically a proxy for intimacy is everything i love about their dynamic in one scene. the way that rumlow talks shit snd fights dirty and likes hurting steve just a little more than is strictly necessary. i know despite everything, rumlow’s gonna be thinking about this night for a long time. steve’s just a sadist’s dream, mind and body designed specifically to take brutality, and he has enough guilt and self-hatred built up to put himself in situations like this for the sake of blowing off steam. they’re a match made in hell, really.

this story deserves to be up there with the big names in stucky fic and i would die on that hill. i’m sorry this is so long, if there’s one thing about me it’s that i love writing insanely long comments 🤩 but um yea i’m so glad you decided to share this with the world bc !!! it got even better on my second read-through to write this comment this morning.

Omg hi! First of all, thank you so much for the generous kind words and for the detailed message. I am always so delighted when people engage with the stuff that I post in any way whatsover, but especially when they're willing to share their impressions, so you never need to apologize for it getting long. I love talking about this stuff. (if anything, I'm just sorry I couldn't get around to responding sooner!) I'm really glad the theme of everyone's different attempts to "place" Steve came through. That might be one of my favourite conflicts when it comes to his character, actually - especially because it's very workable both in-universe (we get to see people project their personal definition of what Cap is supposed to be onto Steve in the comics over and over, as well as in the movies but to a lesser extent) and as meta, considering the wildly different interpretations different canon writers as well as parts of the fandom have voiced for years now (hell, decades) - many of which, in my personal opinion, just completely ignore his background and defining traits/experiences in favor of, again, what their personal idea of what Cap (read: the USA) should value, prioritize, and represent. I just think the idea of a regular man - one with very specific life circumstances that produced a pretty rigid, strong-willed set of morals for that matter - thrown headfirst into being a myth and a propaganda tool, and by virtue of that being manhandled by the government and the public and pretty much everyone he meets almost constantly, to be very interesting. Also honestly I'll take just about any opportunity I can get to shit on intelligence agencies and all the psychological warfare (as you very aptly put it) they entail. And I love Steve's relationship with Sarah as well as that idea of everyone constantly underestimating him so this felt like a good, if painfully fucked up way to introduce that.

I could talk about my love for CATWS' nods to Steve's grief and extremely internalized way of dealing with things but I'm not going to because then we'd be here all day, so I'll just say this: I think about his whole subdued demeanor at the start of that movie coupled with those Avengers deleted scenes of him just kind of aimlessly wandering around New York looking like the epitomy of Sad Man with No Plan at least once a goddamn week. That exchange with Sam at the VA also just wrecks me every time, simply because it's so quiet and unassuming but says a lot. I'd say I'm glad my writing could get you to relate to that sense of dissociation so strongly, but having experienced it myself one too many times I'll just say it fucking sucks and I'm sorry it's so familar. Again, interesting to write about, though, especially when you're writing about a guy who's not only clearly been used to keeping this shit under lock and key his whole life, but who has only had maybe like three and a half people that he could on rare occasions allow himself to confide in, all of whom have gone and died on him or are getting there. Not to mention the survivor's guilt involved - I kept thinking that I can't imagine how badly just about anyone would react to these kinds of feelings if they were feeling guilty about being alive in the first place on top of everything else, and then guilty about feeling that way instead of grateful, like some kind of hellish positive feedback loop. Happy the "wrong place, wrong time" comment went over well! It felt a little heavy handed while I was writing it, but that may just be because I spent a good few days just overthinking that segment. That said I do have a whole background for Lina I have to figure out what to do with now, lol. I've gotten too attached. The movie he's watching is in fact real! It's called Mikey and Nicky and I can't recommend it enough to anyone who might be interested in a slightly experimental, character study-esque '70s crime flick that's really more a thoughtful story about love and death and devotion and lifelong friendship ultimately not surviving the test of time, differing life choices and disillusionment. Themes of childhood and loss and remembrance just kill me in general, especially in the scene I included, and especially because my brain kept going "haha but what if we made this about stucky" on repeat until I had to sit down at write this. Tbh that segment might be my favourite, the fact I had to take several breaks while writing bc I got too sad notwithstanding. And finally: ah, Rumlow. That motherfucker. Hate that guy's guts, love writing him. I cannot tell you how much I'm glad that Natasha parallel came through for you, because I think I did initially conceive of them as mirrors. My thinking was that Steve probably wouldn't fully trust either of them, especially in that lockdown survival mode and just having come into the whole paranoid toxic environment that is SHIELD which he already doesn't really trust, either. That said, I think on that surface level he might latch onto Rumlow more simply because he kind of highkey screams DOWN TO EARTH SOLDIER more than spy which might be more familar, and because Steve's well aware Natasha owes her allegiance to Fury in a pretty established way and is showing a personal interest in his life, which could come across as suspect. And it definitely is to an extent, but I think in the way that for Natasha at this point the slowly budding care she is developing for Steve as one of her own is still very much inseperable from her need to possess information and have control over the situation, which clashes with Steve's equally distrustful nature and desire to keep something for himself. Of course, we know that she's well-meaning and just acting on habit, while Rumlow is...well, Rumlow.

I tried to write Steve as being attracted primarily to that familiarity/comfort of having someone very competent and dogged and seemingly loyal on his side as well as Rumlow as a whole - his experience, his skill, this more level, borderline challenging approach he takes with Steve, even that rougher side to him; despite also being somewhat aware of and at moments even put off by the dubious nature of it all (not necessarily the fascist dogwhistles, but just those moments where that "just one of the guys" front crosses a line into something murkier) but eventually always ending up shutting that feeling down as dismissible because he doesn't have the energy to process it, and prob because there's a certain degree of shame coloring the whole thing. He doesn't want to think about why he's attracted to Rumlow including the violent side of him, about why he's drawing unwilling parallels to Bucky, about what he's subconsciously looking to get from Rumlow while in this self-destructive spiral, and so he inevitably just goes along with it. For Rumlow's part, I think he's definitely got that "moth to a flame" attraction to Steve, and might even respect (big, gigantic fucked up quotation marks around that) him in his own way, or at least he respects what Steve could do if he just wasn't so...well, Steve. I imagine the whole projection of Cap the Symbol (remember when I mentioned that like 2000 words ago?) as well as many of the things we all love about Steve the Man probably rub Rumlow the wrong way, if for no other reason because they're an unwittingly glaring call to his conscience, which I figure would just unnerve and piss him off more and make him turn even more punishing on instinct just to justify himself to himself. In any case, he definitely gets a kick out of being near Steve in the same way people get a kick out of proximity to powerful people in general. I don't think it's a HYDRA honeypot thing or some straight-up evil plan behind it or even a fully conscious thing for him necessarily, just that he's aware Steve's very, very strong and very, very closed off and very, very good while also being pretty fucking vulnerable, and gets a kick out of being able to exploit that and push his buttons and ultimately more or less subdue him in a way that has as much, if not more, to do with power as it does with sex and attraction. So violence as a proxy for intimacy is a perfect way of putting what I was going for, thank you for that!

What I ultimately find the most interesting about writing this version of Rumlow in relation to this version of Steve is that Rumlow is very much a hateable character to me precisely because on the surface he could be just any other alright guy, if he weren't, well.... Rumlow, if he didn't repeatedly decide to give in to the same sadistic instinct because it's easier than the rest of it, if he didn't make the same morally wrong choice over and over despite initially seeming reedemable, despite getting every opportunity to choose differently; same as Steve repeatedly chooses to be good despite his own flaws, despite the opportunity to just give up, despite his own inner turmoil.

So, y'know: very much fuck that guy. They should've dropped more than one building on him. Hell of an interesting dynamic to write, though. Match made in hell indeed.

*claps hands together* ANYWAY! JESUS CHRIST THIS GOT LONG, I'm so sorry to you and anyone seeing this. This wasn't meant to turn into my own personal verbose meta playground, and yet it did. Thank you so much again for the lovely comment and for taking the time out to come talk to me about your impressions, it's been a pleasure!<3

[luckystarchild]

I'm seriously about to cry.

Found this (EXTREMELY NICE) note in my FFnet inbox today:

This is in regards to Queen of the Backwater Moon, my Jet/OC Cowboy Bebop fanfic. I updated not too long ago, but the fandom is pretty quite these days, and thus it didn't get a lot of reads... and then, out of nowhere, that appeared in my inbox.

TBH, Queen might be my favorite story on my fanfiction profile. I don't often praise my own work, but I genuinely think it's going to be the best fic I've written once I'm done with it. The fact that it's for a very small fandom with very few active readers is a bit sad, because if there's one story I'd like to share with people, it's that one. The irony of your best work existing in a space where no one will read it is like cooking the meal of a lifetime for a table consisting of yourself. It's satisfying to know you've made something you think is worth eating, but it's frustrating you don't have anyone to share it with.

And I'm gonna be honest here: Writers always trot out the oh-so-noble "Write for yourself, not for others' validation!" line when talking about writing, and while there is wisdom in that sentiment, I am neither noble nor wise. When I'm proud of something, I want to share it with others. I want to feel like my work means something. And there's nothing wrong with that, imo.

Buuuut that means writing for a small fandom with very few active participants can be... draining. Because you're putting in time and effort and sweat and tears, but the emotional payoff isn't high. Writing short fics in a super popular fandom can get you validation in spades, but writing longfic into the void of a rather dormant fandom? Mostly what you get back is an echo of your own enthusiasm. It begins to feel like you're the only person in that fandom's sprawling galaxy, out drifting in the darkness alone.

And then you get PMs like that one.

I wish I could bottle this feeling and sell it, because I'd make a fortune.

While I haven't worked consistently on Queen, I've put in a lot of work, time, hours and tears. Every single comment on that fic is a HUGE VICTORY as a result, and this PM... oh god, this PM. This is exactly what I mean when I say I enjoy validation. Someone out there wanted to read Bebop fic, and there mine was, waiting for them in that quiet fandom. I'm not screaming into a void; someone is floating along with me in the vacuum of Bebop space. Neither of us is alone. We're here, together, seeking out stories about characters we love, millions of miles apart but standing beside each other just the same. There's just something so magical in that feeling of connection.

When I say I like validation, I don't mean I need my ego stroked. I just need to know my work meant something to someone, no matter how small. And even if I never hear from the reader again, I'm gonna carry this weight with me for a long, long time.

Enormous thanks to this PM-sender, because while I always intended to finish Queen, this makes me want to write a little faster. Knowing they're out there in the darkness, too, waiting for company... I know the feeling of being alone, and I don't want to leave them out there, drifting, for long.

Thanks again, friend. This absolutely made my day. See you in the next chapter of Queen of this Backwater Moon.

[nalakira]

Rescue (part 3)

Hi! So this is the last chapter to my short story, Rescue. Here are the first and second parts. You can read them on fanfiction and ao3 too.

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Inuyasha wasn’t sure what woke him up. Heck, he actually didn’t know he was sleeping. What he knew was that one moment he was being chased by villagers angered by his theft of the sacred jewel, Kikyou was cursing him and shooting an arrow at him, and then, nothing. He went from existing to just, well, he didn’t know what to call that state. He supposed he was just sleeping with no nightmares and no demons and humans alike to be afraid of. Was it wrong to think that was actually a blissful state? He was not afraid, not hungry, not in danger. Just was.

But then he woke up.

And he didn’t feel anything odd with his body. He could still feel his youki was in there so that meant Kikyo wasn’t able to purify him. Obviously he was alive, and he could not feel any wounds. He could say he was relatively well except for the fact that his limbs hurt like a bitch and damn but he wanted to stretch his sore muscles. But then unfortunately, large vines were holding him against the giant tree he was pinned to. It’s not that he could not use his strength to tear through those vines, but it was like his power was diminished. He actually lived but his youki was sealed. So much for being careful through the years.

All of his stealth and smarts to keep himself alive and safe were gone in a few moments. All because of wanting to be seen and known. Stupid fucking notion of not wanting to be alone. Fuck his life.

He surveyed his surroundings and was surprised to realize that there were more houses from his vantage point than he remembered. There were more fields and vegetations too. As opposed to tall, untended grasses around the huge tree where he was pinned.

And loathe was he to admit it, but he stank. He never liked bathing, always ran away from his mother when he was a child whenever bath time. But he always made sure he was at least not having a foul, unpleasant odor. Right now, he smelled as if he was dried under the sun for a long time, but was forgotten outside and was drenched in the rain. And dried again, and wet again. He wouldn't be surprised if he saw molds in his body.

And he definitely wanted to see his body right now. Not for molds, but for overall assessment. He didn’t like how he had no idea the situation he was in right now. He was downright confused. How long was he actually pinned to this fucking giant tree?

How long was it since he fought in a battle that it took him time to realize there was a raging youkai somewhere near him. He was disoriented. It was as if his mind had stopped for sometime that at the moment he could not actually think straight.

Stupid priestess.

This was all her fault. Should have known not to trust a self-righteous bitch as she was.

And speaking of whom, Inuyasha could smell her now. She was getting nearer to his tree. He could practically taste his vengeance.

He was seething with anger when he was thrown off course. The woman he was waiting for fell in front of him with a thud. Weak.

“What are you doing with that wimpy centipede opponent of yours?” he asked.

She was silent. Actually, she looked dumb. And it wasn’t just her stupidity that he saw. He was surprised to see her in a clothing so short she looked more revealing than the women he saw in brothels. What happened to the uppity priestess he thought he knew?

“Settle this with a single blow, Kikyou,” he taunted. “Like when you killed me.”

The woman in front of him, who actually looked more like a girl, scoffed and replied, “Kikyou? What are you saying? My name is ---”

“She’s here,” he said, looking up at the youkai in front of them.

The villagers arrived to rescue the miko supposed to protect them. What the actual fuck was happening?

“Keh. I’m disappointed, Kikyou.”

“Why you?!”

The girl knelt on the grass stood to face him angrily. “You’re mistaking me for someone else. I’m not this Kikyou person.”

“Go stuff it! No other girl smells this disgusting except ---”

Inuyasha paused. He deliberately sniffed the girl and was surprised to note that she clearly did not smell like Kikyou. Not even close. Whereas Kikyou smelled like the snow that drizzled over soft leaves, this girl’s scent smells like freshly bloomed cherries and wisterias.

It must not have been her scent that alerted him of her presence in the first place. Must be something else. She just seemed so familiar to him he just thought she was Kikyou. But now. Inuyasha was irritated. How could his nose betray him like this? Was it full of boogers because of the time he was unable to clean himself? Stupid fucking arrow on his chest.

“Kikyou. You’re not her,” he conceded.

“Get it now?” She was indignant. “My name is Kagome! Ka-go-me!”

His pride prompted him to reply, “Kikyou is far more intelligent-looking. And beautiful.”

The girl was about to retort again when the giant centipede attacked. The demon grabbed her by the waist and the girl held onto his hair. Fuck. He was shouting at her to let him go when the demon spoke.

“I’ll devour you whole. Shikon no Tama and all!”

Shikon no Tama?

“Stop it!” He heard the girl screamed and saw a bright pinkish light come out from her hand. What the fuck she was a priestess too?

The youkai retaliated by taking a bite from the girl’s side and out came what the fuck the shikon?

They all looked at the jewel that dropped on the grass. The girl was crawling towards it and Inuyasha told her to hand it over to him. But before this weak girl could get the jewel, the centipede squished her towards the tree, which made him trapped too. Great.

The demon tauntingly asked him if he was the hanyou brat that wanted the jewel. Like hell would he let that slide. “Don’t underestimate me. When I fight seriously, a bitch like you is just a small fry.”

“You’ve had that big attitude since earlier but are you strong?”

Inuyasha looked down at the girl pressed against him.

“It looks like your power is sealed.” The youkai was grinning with malice. “Just stay there and watch.”

Fuck fuck fuck.

They all watched alarmed as the youkai swallowed the jewel and regenerated its powers. Inuyasha and the girl were being continually strangled together by its large body. 

“Oi. This arrow. Can you pull it out?”

It was a chance. He didn’t know if the girl could actually pull an arrow she did not shoot. But it was worth a try. He did not want to die here. Not when he still had to look for Kikyou and fight her.

The girl started reaching the arrow but was interrupted by an old woman telling her not to unseal him. He was pissed and shouted back, “Do you want to become centipede bait?!”

He looked at the girl and asked, “What about you? You wanna die here with me?!”

The girl’s face looked desperate and anguished. He recognized that look. Inuyasha was familiar with those kinds of emotions. She was filled with misery and also hope as she exclaimed, “I don’t know what’s going on here. But I don't want to die!”

She took the arrow from his chest and everyone was surprised when it vanished. Finally, he was free. A measly stranger gave him his freedom. Sounds fitting actually. A human imprisoned him on the tree, and a human rescued him.

Rescued by her, my ass. It was his cunning that definitely rescued himself.

He took care of the youkai swiftly and turned to the girl.

“Now unless you want to become a victim to my claws, be a good girl, and hand over the jewel.”

The girl was aghast.

Served you right for thinking I was your hero.

The girl broke his seal, and he killed the demon out for her blood. Rescued each other. They’re even now. On equal footing.

Now he could fight her fair and square for the jewel, should she be a menace to his plans. Because no one could stop him now from getting the powerful shikon no tama.

He would be a full demon that everyone would need rescuing from.

-----------

So this is the last chapter to this short story. I started this not really knowing where I was going with it. All I knew was that I wanted to use comfortember prompts to write InuKag fics. Along the way, I thought of rereading the manga and then the idea of a slight retelling of the canon story came to me. Still using the comfortember prompts.

For now, I decided to write three chapters for each prompt. And each chapter would probably correspond to a manga chapter. We’ll see. I’ll do a back-and-forth of the pov. So now I’m finished with Inuyasha’s pov for the rescue prompt, and next I’ll be writing a short fic from Kagome’s pov using the prompt ‘first night’. The narrative would of course follow after Rescue.

I’ve only just come back to writing after years, so I apologize for my mistakes. I’m thankful for the readers.

Till next time!

@shinidamachu I’m embarrassed to tag you but I thought maybe you would appreciate it if you get tagged at this last chapter. If anything, I actually want to dedicate this to you because your comments on the first two parts really warmed me. Thank you so much!

[miitzwrites]

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

New chapter is finally here!

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

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

Enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ooooo

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Something very bad, probably.”

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

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

“Are you saying we need to…”

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

Ooooo

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

“Where am I?” Chat slurred.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why would Gabriel want the miraculous then?”

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

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

Oooo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about Adrien?”

When Master Fu didn’t answer, Plagg understood.

There’s no salvation for the damned.

Ooooo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you going ?”

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

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

“She’s fine, Marinette.”

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