#san is trying to flirt but it looks like a hostage situation

[hozukitofu]

james bond can piss right off

okay, fine.

maybe wooyoung has too much pride in espionage. maybe thinking that he is the best won’t help him in the long run.

fine. 

that doesn’t explain any of this though. it doesn’t explain the unsuspecting traps, the literal net and poison combo deal that nabbed him the moment he rigged into the warehouse.

wooyoung is good at his job. it’s how he can demand a ridiculous sum of payment up front and collect even more after the job with guarantee that he will do well. but right now? he can kiss that diamond encrusted knife collection goodbye as he slumps sideways and hit the floor.

vaguely he can hear soft footsteps and a small chain of giggles as his vision tunnels and shutters off.

he wakes in a really undignified lump - flailing and rocking on a bound chair, legs coming off the ground. he’s inside a warehouse - surroundings are unclear to determine if it’s the one he’s meant to break into - tightly knotted to a chair. just a simple kitchen chair, wooden, can easily topple if he decides to rock a little too hard and fall over, breaking his nose on impact.

he received training to get out of chairs in these very specific situations, yes, but wooyoung’s fatal flaw is that when a situation hasn’t arrived in more than two years he tends to be slack on the details of how to deal with it specifically.

his mortal undoing will be his carelessness with a side of pride

“you’re up!” a soft voice cheers. “i thought we had to resort to a cold bucket of water to the face if you didn’t wake up and leave the party.”

“that wasn’t a very fun party,” he grouses, peeking open an eye. tall, his capturer is tall. male, so that makes fighting his way out probably a little bit harder. “where are all the music and terrible alcohol?”

“didn’t have that, but you did take in a healthy dose of chloroform,” the culprit bends down, lower, until he reaches eye level with wooyoung, goggles and a face mask obscuring all signs of possible identifiable features.

yeosang is going to cut him open and eat his liver if he returns without either the intel needed or some form of identification on the one who managed to usurp his unshakable post as Master Spy.

“no wonder my mouth still tastes sweet,” he laments, though not bitterly. everything is still too woozy and baffling that he can’t exactly put a finger on it. 

“i try my best,” the man in the shadow, the thing with the sweet voice - seriously, is that a real voice? is he just hallucinating? can he tell how many fingers are there in front of him if someone does try to test his sight? “apologies for the ambush. i can’t have others jeopardising my objective.”

“i can understand that,” wooyoung grunts, working a wrist free as he wobbles and pretends to have terrible balance on a bound, shaky chair. uneven legs, ha ha, he can claim. “emphatically.”

“i’m so glad we have something in common,” he can hear the smile and the genuine pleasantry, dripping from his culprit’s drawling tone. why does he speak Like That?

“yeah…” he inches away, shaking loose and sweaty hair from flopping even further into his eyes and eyelashes. “so glad…”

“your sarcasm wounds me. i thought we had a connection,” the person laments, hand clasping the front of his long sweeping coat - can people genuinely move in that, wooyoung just want to talk. 

“we would, if you would show me your face,” he coughs, hoping that it’s loud enough to mask the rip of fabric that just went on in the back of his tightly bound hand. he thinks it’s the handcuff, hybridised with something that hitches on top of holding him in. unlike the chair situation, he actually paid attention when the knots lectures came about. his long lost dream was to be a sea pirate, so he obsessed over knots and ship diagrams when he was younger, and then that dream had to be adapted to becoming an internationally hunted espionage agent, occasionally boarding ships to dig through people’s loots and information before escaping through the steam room’s window and swimming to a canoe waiting nearby.

but pirate childhood dream aside, he still can’t get out. the problem is that while he is great at tying people up, he can’t get his brain to do the reverse of untying himself from difficult knots that he can do himself fast enough to avoid a rapid round of gunfire or a hostage situation, which, he is unfortunately in one at the moment. 

“i don’t do interrogation until the third date,” there is a wink in there, wooyoung can tell. damn, his brain is bad with memorising voices. he is a visual learner, and right now the entire assemble this guy has got going for him is really bloody effective. he can’t ascertain a definitive height, body shape, face shape, eye - nothing. nada. zilch. Zero.

argh yeosang and hongjoong-hyung are both going to gang up and dangle him on the top of a telecommunication tower somewhere, for failing this mission. there is no winning if he isn’t in the specified location that he was meant to target and rob the intel of, there is no winning if he had been gassed and bound and definitely no victory in not being able to pinpoint who captured him and jeopardise his mission.

“damn,” he sighs, dramatic and dejected. wait. date. 

maybe -

perhaps…

he’s good at what he does because all his skills and arsenals are trained towards efficiency at spying and getting himself out of compromising situations. he himself had never been a. been in a seduction mission before or b. been on the receiving end of an odd proposition in the middle of a mission gone sideways. 

there is a first for everything. there are always ways out, you’re not looking hard enough, hongjoong’s voice nags at him in his coconut numbskull. 

okay. okay. he can do this. play this game, and see if he can do anything about it.

“what do you normally do on your first dates?” he throws himself forward, dragging his chair with his lurch frontward. 

his kidnapped in black only laughs, catching him across the shoulder and righting him. he doesn’t smell like anything, deceptively free of cologne or aftershave or a brand of detergent. nothing. zero signs given to him. damn. not even a crumb.

“well, we’d tell each other what we would go by, but i can see that you’re at a slight disadvantage - i did a bit of a facebook stalking round, don’t feel bad if you haven’t done the same yet. the woes of blind dating,” the voice is charming, and it’s nice to listen to, but the fake cheeriness is slowly bleeding out to genuine cheek. okay so wooyoung is mostly an obstacle to be removed, but he also garnered enough interest to prompt this chat and the subtle veneer of maybe mockery in his cheery voice.

he can tell that much, but he’s not an idiot. he knows he’s been researched inside out to be rendered into a chair and bound, and that’s the kind of research he’d like to have insight to, because wooyoung is a ghost story among the spying world. people don’t think he exists, and have to go through a chain of convoluted communication lines to reach out to him and request his service, with money always at the ready. he is famous, but literally only ten people know his face, because his face is similar to many others - a curse, but now a blessing. he had pretended to be park jimin too many times for him to count, an apology to the politician himself, but, if the shoe fits, he’ll take that shoe and running off with it.

so maybe this is just an opportunity to gloat - look at me, i one upped the great wooyoung, got him tied up in a chair, as i skip away with the intel he was meant to collect for his mission. 

that is deeply uncomfortable to think about. wooyoung has to one up him back, return the favour. he’s playing this game with literally no arms, no sight, just his ears and his brain working overtime. he thinks he might scrape a crumb from this situation yet.

“wouldn’t it be common courtesy to let your date know something to call you by? i’ve been so kind as to show up to the date. you wouldn’t break a poor man’s heart by leaving him in the dark like this?” he thinks this is a good attempt of a breathy, seductive voice, from the vague corners of his memory of how ‘seduction’ is supposed to work. 

“ah,” there is careful consideration in that one sound. wooyoung hopes it’s an hmm i might indulge in your silly requests and give you a fake name, and not now i have to kill you because you’re getting more annoying by the minute and my gloating moment is over. “i thought you don’t play the seduction game.”

wooyoung nods until his brain catches up with the words and he’s nodding as his brain plays W H A T  to the accompaniment of a cambodian gong as everything goes off in flames .  

“you’re special,” wooyoung winks, greasy and disgusting, and lets the playful expression slides off his face completely. “also you one upped me and i have to play you right back.”

“that’s not very gentlemanly of you,” the stranger chides. “now how can i give you a name or a hint?”

“a hint cannot be any more misleading than a name, so,” he hangs his head, aware that there are hands still planted on his shoulder. he shrugs them off, hopping back on his chair, brain thinking hard. a wrist of his is loose enough to twist around and smack this one across the face, but then he has to let that distance be regained. gain back the weird tantalising space that hostage and kidnapper allow between them, prey and predator, moments before disaster strikes.

“well,” and the first step is taken. wooyoung watches, narrowing his eyes, as the distance between them is lessened, as the shadowy figure kneels in front of him, hand pressing into his vest. “if you interest me enough, i promise to give you a useful hint.”

he doesn’t know jackshit about being interesting or anything pertaining to that, but he knows an opportunity when it presents itself to him, and he rips an arm socket nearly loose from his shoulder joint, swinging it across the face of his kidnapper, the reaction going exactly to plan, dislodging the ugly pair of glasses away, revealing the temple and mellow skin, sweet golden baked pastries.

damn wooyoung needs to eat something. he keeps thinking of people and things in terms of edibility. he half wanted to munch on his handkerchief just hours before. snack, whenever he gets back, and a lot of it.

“ah,” hard pressed eyes, really deep brown - almost black, squeeze into a pleasant line of smile at him - can a person smile with their eyes? he’s not sure, but this one is doing it, and doing it brilliantly.

he has some eyes. he’s literally never seen anyone with those eyes before. surely yeosang can do something, like scan security footages with matching eyes or something.

eyes are really not much to go on for, but look, he scraped himself a crumb, at the cost of nearly dislocating his arm. he should get some brownie points for that.

“i guess you already ripped the hint away from me,” the eyes, animated and lively, squeeze themselves into two crescents of pleased surprise. wooyoung can take comfort in not being sniped in the chest by this guy, but, once again, he still thinks there are guns hidden somewhere in that ridiculous billowing coat and the stupid cowboy hat. he himself had hidden twenty guns and fifteen knives in his suit before, and it was a semi-casual suit. it’s not that hard with weapons nowadays. 

“what a damn shame,” he drawls right back, vicious and petty, just like who he is, deep down, when he loses at a game. “i was going to beg, but,” he shrugs, half checking on his shoulder, half flexing on this guy. one all, bastard. your move.

“but you are above that, i am aware,” the eyes mirror the amused tone the voice puts out, flashing brief caramel under wooyoung’s chloroform gassed up head. “it wouldn’t be a fun game if one of us has the upper hand perpetually.”

those are really pretty eyes, and under different circumstances, outside of his job, when he’s just jung wooyoung, international politics graduate, dance enthusiast, not WY, elite spy master, then maybe he could’ve gone for it. 

not now, not here. they’ve started on a bad foot already. he doesn’t know what he might do if they do encounter each other, mask completely stripped off from each other. 

“yeah, gotta keep my standards high, my guys lower,” he winks, trying to wriggle his way out of his hold. “what are you going to do with that intel?”

a gloved hand taps the inner lining of his coat, an eye blinking into a wink. 

“sell it.”

wooyoung breathes out harshly. of course he would. 

“of course you would,” he rolls his eyes. “and i was just a little bit later and less experienced in coming up against you.”

“i wouldn’t say you’re less experienced,” the man twirls a long finger, gloved, completely black. “just a little unprepared. i had the element of surprise on my end this time. next time, well,” he leaves that hanging, stopping right in front of wooyoung. “it’s fair game.”

“i don’t know how long you’ve been playing on this field for, but there is no such thing as fair game,” he hooks a finger into his stun gun, drawing it out, pointing point blank, between the nice eyebrows and expressive eyes. “it would only hurt a little.”

“you never cease to surprise me, wooyoung,” is all he gets, before the mask is tugged down, a line of a hooked nose ridge, before a shower of smoke, and the complete disappearance of a master ghost spy.

okay. okay hongjoong and yeosang would not be happy with this. 

nobody should know wooyoung’s name. how did this one know?

part 2! 

[neesieiumz]

All the Stars {Tamaki Amajiki x Reader} - Chapter 2

Summary: When Fatgum hires a sidekick transferring from America and assigns Tamaki to show her around, Tamaki sees the differences between the two of them and wonders if they are even going to get along? At least she seems like a decent person...right

A/N: This was honestly unexpected, I’m glad I was able to push this out in time!

Word count: 1.9 k

Chapter 2 - Coffee Shop

Tamaki shivered and pulled his scarf closer to his face as he walked to the cafe near his and Mirio’s apartment. Rambling on beside him was the Permeation hero rambling on about a mission he did, taking down some villains in a hostage situation.

“So then after we sent the villains on their way to jail, one of the hostages, she wouldn’t let go of me, something about not wanting one of the villains to come after her in some kind of revenge for “getting them arrested” and wanted me to stay the night, can you believe it?!” Mirio laughed at the memory.

“I’m pretty sure she just wanted to sleep with you Mirio,” Tamaki mumbled under his breath but it was loud enough for the SUnshine hero to hear him.

He laughed and slapped Tamaki on the back, taking the man by surprise and making him nearly fall over. Tamaki looked back at his friend once he got his balance and gave Mirio his best glare. Mirio did nothing but smile at him and opened the door to their favorite cafe to meet up with Nejire when she was in town. The warmth of the cafe tingled at Tamaki’s cold face as the smell of pumpkin spice and peppermint filled his senses. He unravels his scarf and cracked his neck to allow himself to relax further.

“Mirio, Tamaki! Over here!”

They both looked up and saw Nejire standing up and waving at the two of them. The both of them smiled at their female friend and walked over to the table she reserved for the three of them. Tamaki let Mirio in first before pulling out his own seat and sitting down.

“Hey Neijre, it’s been a while,” Mirio smiled, holding her gloved hands with his own, making Nejire blush.

Tamaki noticed the both of them and rolled his eyes, the two of them have been pinning after each other since school ended for the three of them. Tamaki placed his arms on the table and pulled out his phone and waited for the two of them to finish their love meeting. He was scrolling through his messages, replying back to Fatgum about possibly taking an undercover case when someone yelled out Nejire’s name. All three of them looked up and saw the cafe worker holding a drink case with three coffees and some warped up sandwiches and bags.

“Oh, that’s for us!” Nejire started to get up but Tamaki beat her to it.

“You stay here, I can go get it,” Tamaki reluctantly offered.

Nejire looked a little concerned, “you sure Tamaki, I can get it.”

Tamaki nodded and made his way over to the pickup counter, “yeah, it’s fine, plus I need to let you guys finish flirting anyways.”

Tamaki walked away not seeing Nejire’s flushed face and Mirio’s sheepish expressions.

“HA! Good one Tamaki!” Mirio laughed off Tamaki’s jab at their love life, making Tamaki shake his head.

Tamaki walked up to the counter and picked up the order Neijre placed for the three of them, just about when he was about to walk away…

“Amajiki-san!”

Tamaki flinched and slowly turned around to find Y/n, the new sidekick Fatgum just hired, standing there, holding two coffees, and a small bag in her hands. It’s been about two weeks since the BMI hero hired Y/n and already she’s made such a big splash in Japan. Recently she and her partner Aoi took down a recently rising gang in Japan and Y/n was able to keep most of the villains back without hurting innocent bystanders.

Tamaki took a look at what she’s wearing, an orange hoodie with camo baggy pants and white sneakers. On her head was a white and her individual braids were all tied in one big braid pulled to the side.

“Amajiki-san, I thought it was you! I haven’t seen you in a while since you gave me that tour! Man, it’s been a while!” Y/n smiled, stepping even closer to him.

Tamaki could feel his ears getting hot as he tried to respond to her, “Yeah, I guess it has been a while.”

“I heard you got hurt when taking down some villains in an attempted bank robbery, you’re okay right?” Y/n looks at him with concern, stepping even closer to him.

Tamaki’s eyes widened and tried to discreetly create some distance between the two of them but answered her question.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just a couple of scratches and bruises, nothing to be worried about. What about you? I heard you took down a gang of villains terrorizing some civilians by yourself while your partner was evacuating citizens.”

Y/n smiled brightly, much like Mirio’s, making the manifest hero smile back at her.

“You heard about that huh? Yeah, it was hard but I was glad I was able to hold them back long enough until Aoi was able to get the bystanders out of the way!” Y/n boasted, making dramatic gestures trying to recap what happened. Tamaki couldn’t help himself and laughed a little at her actions, he thought he was being quiet with it but Y/n’s ears must have picked up on him and turned to look at him. Tamaki saw this and thought that he had offended her,

Oh no, why did I laugh at her?! I couldn’t help it, she looks so cute!

Right before he was about to apologize, a soft smile took itself on her face and Y/n titled her head before speaking.

“You have a nice laugh Tamaki, you should definitely use it more.”

Tamaki’s widened and his ears went completely hot, his mouth dried out and suddenly all the words in his mind went blank. What’s happening to him? What did she do to him? Is this a secret quirk that she hid from everyone? As that was happening, a male voice called out to Y/n which pulled Tamaki back to earth. They both turned to the door where Aoi was standing there annoyed,  holding the door open.

“Come on! We have patrol soon!” He yelled at her.

Y/n playfully rolled her eyes at him before turning back to Tamaki, smiling wistfully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it.

“I’ll see at the agency, whenever our schedules overlap.”

With one final look between the two of them, Y/n walked away and headed to her grumpy partner who was looking at her with playful disdain. Y/n noticed this and playfully punched him in the stomach. Y/n walked out without looking back but as Aoi followed behind her, he looked back at Tamaki and glared at him. This took Tamaki back and he jumped back at the iciness of the glare. With that final look, Aoi followed his partner to the parking lot down the street where Aoi most likely parked, having pride in not taking the train. Tamaki’s eyes followed the two of them until he couldn’t see them. Once he couldn’t, he let out a breath. In relief, in sadness? He wasn’t sure yet.

Tamaki walked back to his friends who were so not watching the entire interaction between him and Y/n. Knowing them, Tamaki avoided eye contact with them and placed their respective orders in front of them. Tamaki then took his seat and was about to take a sip of his coffee when Nejire finally broke.

“Okay, so like, are we not gonna talk about the super cute girl that Tamaki held a full conversation with?! Like Tamaki, you never told us about her! Like who is she? What’s her quirk? When did you meet her? What did you-”

“Okay! One question at a time. Nejire, don’t want to overwhelm him,” Mirio calmed her down and handed a red velvet peppermint cupcake to munch on. That seemed to do the trick and Nejire stopped talk to eat her treat but still looked at Tamaki, awaiting an answer from him. Tamaki sighed, knowing he’ll have to answer their questions. He opened his container and saw a roast beef, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich. He began to and shortly explained who Y/n was.

“She’s a new sidekick that Fatgum hired who transferred from America recently. I had to show her around the facility when she was hired.” Tamaki said in-between bites of his sandwich.

Nejire nodded but his explanation didn’t satisfy her, she felt that Tamaki was holding back more on her but decided to leave it for another day.

“Who was that dude with her? He didn’t seem to like you very much” Mirio asked, picking up a piece of egg.

Tamaki thought back to the man and shudder at his intense glare, “his name is Aoi, he’s another sidekick that was hired a year after me...and I don’t know why he looks at me like that…” Tamaki trailed off, thinking back to when Fatgum introduced them.

Tamaki was returning from patrol by himself, his nerves fried from having to talk to so many citizens, luckily no villains tried their luck and everything was smooth sailing for his entire shift. He was about to enter the locker room when he bumped into someone leaving. He was slightly shoved but knew if he was a regular person, he would have been pushed to the floor. Tamaki looked over and saw someone he never has seen before walking out in gear he’s never seen before. Tamaki was about to ask who he was when he heard Fatgum.

“Aoi, looking good!”

Aoi…? Tamaki thought, cracking his neck to relieve some of the tension there.

Fatgum looked back and noticed Tamaki standing there and smiled, “hey Tamaki! Returning from patrol?” Fatgum waved.

Tamaki looked away sheepishly and nodded. Thinking back to some conversations he had with Fatgum about possibly hiring some new sidekicks. Tamaki realized that this must have been one of the new sidekicks Fatgum may have hired.

“Well, let me introduce each other,” Fatgum waved Tamaki.

Tamaki took a deep breath and slowly walked to where the two of them were. He stopped a couple of steps from them and waived for Fatgum to introduce them.

“Tamaki, this is Aoi, he’s the newest edition to the agency, I’ve already given him the tour and we’re about to go on patrol but I’m glad we caught you before we left!” Fatgum smiled and took a couple of steps back to let them introduce each other personally. Aoi didn’t move a muscle and they both stood there in silence before Tamaki took a deep breath and moved his hand to introduce himself.

“I’m Tamaki Amajiki, my hero name’s Suneater.”

Aoi looked at Tamaki and looked down at his hand before rolling his eyes and turning towards, in a thick accent, Aoi spoke to Fatgum.

“Can we get to patrol, I want to learn about this city as soon as possible!”

Fatgum looked surprised that Aoi didn’t take Tamaki’s hand and was about to say something but Tamaki interrupted him.

“I need to get changed anyway, it was nice to meet you Aoi-san.” Tamaki gave a small bow before walking away and back to the locker rooms to change out of his hero suit. All before Fatgum could say anything.

Tamaki shook himself out of that flashback. That was three years ago, and ever since then, Aoi has held a look of disdain for Tamaki, even though Tamaki could never figure out why.

Tamaki took a sip of his coffee and finished his sandwich. He could worry about Aoi later, today was his only day off in a month and a half and wanted to spend it with his friends.

[hoodie-lover]

Berry’s Little Secret

Blue, or Blueberry as he was nicknamed because of his color scheme and chub, was quite the fighter. When Blue skipped, yes he skipped instead of walking or running, onto the battlefield those who did not flee were handed their asses on a shiny silver platter as Blue extended a hand of friendship their way. It got to the point where Underswap was protected by Blue and Blue alone, people knowing how fiercely he protected people he didn't know, trembled at the thought of hurting someone he knew and cared for.

Error, the World Destroyer, respected the blue Sans. No one knew what happened, but during the period of time in which Blue was held hostage by Error, the Destroyer had gained a great level of respect for him, even letting him go and giving him a non-poisoned chocolate bar. Neither spoke of how this occurred, but the destruction of AUs slowed, but didn’t stop, and chocolate was plentiful in Underswap.

Despite his reputation, there was one skeleton considered his equal, Dust. Not as powerful, but his lack of control made the two evenly matched, and he was more violent, contrasting with Blue’s skill. The strangest thing was the sexual tension they had between them. Dust flirting with Blue and Blue flirting back, Dust drooling when Blue spun during his flips, and Blue often staring at the curves Dust had when the mad skeleton summoned ecto during their battles to tease his opponent.

“I swear Blue, are you sure you guys aren’t dating?” Ink joked after the artist once again drank himself sillier than he usually acted.

“As if I’d date a crazy murderer!” Blue said, crossing his arms and huffing.

“Then why do you flirt back? And we all have caught you staring.” Dream said, cleaning up the bottles of booze Ink had emptied while Dream and Blue were out on patrol.

“I decided to flirt back to mess with him. And I can acknowledge when a person is attractive, looking doesn’t mean I have a crush. I’ve told you two this hundreds of times.” Blue said, sighing. “I’m off to bed.” Blue said, walking off.

“See Dream, you *hic* scared ‘im off.” Ink said, blacking out.

“And I see you need to sleep. I don’t even know how you got so much alcohol.” Dream said, picking up Ink.

“Creativity!” Ink shouted as Dream teleported to Ink’s room and threw him on the bed.

Ink’s room was big, it had a king-sized bed in the center and paintings all over the walls, there were also sewing projects on the floor, a hot glue gun stuck to the wall, and a flute stuck in a flower pot. The floor was a fluffy carpet stained with paints of all types and the walls were rainbows.

“Goodnight.” Dream said as Ink passed out on the poorly made and horribly stained bed.

Dream headed off to his room, which had pale yellow walls and wooden floors. A large window taking up almost an entire wall was across from the door. His bed was white with fluffy blankets and a dresser in the corner with a small mirror on top.

“Why me?” He asked himself as he changed into pajamas and laid on the bed, snuggling into the blankets as he fell asleep.

Blue waited until midnight, making sure everyone was asleep. He packed a suitcase with many pairs of clothes, toiletries, and electronics. His room was small with baby blue walls and a white carpet with a small bed that had a few sheets and a fluffy pillow. Blue was nervous, he did this stunt weekly, but he was still nervous about being caught.

He sent a text and a portal appeared before him. It led to Nightmare’s hideout, which was a small cottage in a small corner of dark woods. It was very crowded, but it had a soul unlike the large castle Blue generally lived in when he was busy with the Star Sanses, which his AU was thankfully oblivious of.

“Dad!” A small voice cried out and Blue was embraced by his son, Sprinkle. They had a dark blue hoodie with a purple hood, a purple bandanna, cyan shorts with purple stars and had one blue eye with a yellow pupil and the other blue eye had a red pupil.

“Hello Sprinkle. How are you?” Blue asked as he entered the cottage and was greeted by the Dark Sanses.

“Hello there my beautiful husband~. How are you?” Dust asked as he kissed Blue on the forehead.

“Awesome.” Blue said as he sat down on the couch and removed his gloves.

His hands were scarred, held together by bandages, and a ring with an amethyst gem and silver band rested on his ring finger.

“Will you tell us how you hurt your hands?” Cross asked, and Blue shook his head. “Fine.” Cross said and went to the kitchen to get a chocolate bar.

Nightmare came in the room and glanced at Blue. “Welcome.” He said before walking away.

“He still doesn’t like you.” Sprinkle said as he climbed onto his dad’s lap.

“Can’t expect everyone to.” Blue said as he held his son in his arms. “Guess what?” Blue asked and Sprinkle blinked.

“What?” He asked, bouncing a little bit in anticipation.

“I’m staying for a whole week!” Blue said as he grabbed his kid and threw them in the air before catching them.

“Yay!” Sprinkle said as he embraced his dad.

“A week?” Killer said, and Blue nodded.

“I really wanted to hang out with Sprinkle, since based on Papy’s notes we might be in for a genocide or two.” Blue said and everyone shrugged, accepting Blue’s lie with ease.

“Let’s go set up your room.” Dust said, and Sprinkle followed his parents to the guest room and they shut the door.

“Why are you really here?” Dust asked and Blue sighed.

“Is Nightmare planning something?” Blue asked, and Sprinkle sat on the bed.

“Always scheming aren’t you?” Dust said, growling and Blue rolled his eyes.

“I want to keep as many people safe as I can. And I know Nightmare is planning something big, I just need to figure out what.” Blue said. “We both know Nightmare is planning on breaking the agreement. It’s only a matter of time.” Blue said, unpacking a few items, but keeping most of his stuff in the suitcase.

“Yes I know, he’s been looking at Sprinkle and making threatening gestures his way.” Dust said.

“And you haven’t planned to run away have you? Too afraid to take your child’s life into your own hands?!” Blue said, snarling as Dust rolled his eyes.

“Mom, Dad...?” Sprinkle said, and the two looked at him. “Can we pretend to be a normal family for this week? I know you two have your rivalry, but can we...” Sprinkle said and the two skeletons ran up to him.

“I’m so sorry, we can have some fun with each other, and if we play our cards right, we can get you and your mother out of this.” Blue said and Dust sighed.

“To keep you safe, yeah. You’re pushing me to redemption, you little bugger.” Dust said as he noogied his child.

“I got it from Dad!” Sprinkle said and Blue giggled.

“Naturally.” Blue said, smiling.

“I know you only got into this situation to keep me safe, but I do hope we can make it out of this in one piece.” Sprinkle said.

“I do too.” Blue said and Dust nodded.

A knock on the door startled them, and Cross peaked his head in, a chocolate bar sticking out of his mouth. He took it out when he saw that he had the trio’s attention. “Lunch.” Cross said and stuck the candy in his mouth before closing the door.

“It’s midnight in the base. But a midnight snack never hurt anybody.” Blue said, and Dust howled with laughter.

“Yeah. ‘Got to sleep! We can have breakfast in the morning!’ what changed your mind?” Dust asked as he grabbed the top of the back of Blue’s pants.

Blushing like the fruit he is named after Blue smacked Dust right across the face. “Since I started this gig up, and staying with you my sleeping and eating schedule has been a mess. Even more so since most AUs have their own separate clock.” Blue said, readjusting his pants from the intrusion.

“Fine. Just don’t tell anyone you said that.” Dust said and Sprinkle got off the bed.

“Are we going to be ok?” Sprinkle asked, and Blue smiled.

“You’re going to be just fine.” Blue said, and Sprinkle noticed how Blue didn’t guarantee himself and Dust being ok.

The table was set up with salads and a variety of fruits. Most of it being grown at or near the cottage. Blue was a little upset he couldn’t make tacos, but he could deal with it. Maybe eating edible food would help him think.

“Glad you like this. We’ve been trying to grow our own food for ages, it’ll keep us healthy and whatnot.” Killer said as he chomped on a carrot.

“Or maybe it’ll help you avoid social interaction besides each other.” Blue said and everyone laughed.

“Where’s Nightmare?” Sprinkle said, holding onto Blue’s leg tightly.

“He said to bring him some food, apparently he has a big project going on and doesn’t want to stop working on it.” Horror said, popping out from behind the door to the kitchen.

“Thanks Horror.” Blue said, smiling as he ate some of the juicy fruit.

Sprinkle clung to Blue as the Dark Sanses ate their food, and he saw Dust keeping an eye on him the whole time.

“You’re kid is cute. Maybe he can finally open up to us.” Cross said as he pat Sprinkle on the head, making the kid flinch, and Blue and Dust growled.

“Ok. Fine.” Cross said, raising his hands in surrender.

Blue and Dust lead Sprinkle to the couch, keeping him between the two and Dust tracking the locations of everyone in the room. It was silent as everyone ate, the clock ticking as the seconds went by, and the clouds covering the sun as the wind beat against the stone walls of the quaint cottage.

Footsteps were heard coming from upstairs, Dust held his child close as Nightmare showed himself. “Hello, Blue. I want to see you.” Nightmare said and Blue got up, kissing Sprinkle on his head as he followed his best friend’s arch enemy.

The upstairs was dark and dusty. Cobwebs littering the corners and the windows were blacked out. Mirrors lined the dark hallway as Blue followed Nightmare, he led his spy to a room at the end of the hall.

“How are you?” Nightmare asked, sitting at a desk when Blue closed the door.

“I’m good.” Blue said as he sat in a chair in front of Nightmare.

The room was dark, candles lined the walls, but Blue could only see Nightmare’s glowing eye and outlines of bookshelves on the walls.

“That’s nice. How is my brother?” Nightmare asked, smiling.

“He’s good. Though a little overwhelmed from Ink’s drinking habits worsening.” Blue said, unwavering in his eye contact with Nightmare.

“You did good. I would have never thought getting Ink addicted to alcohol.” Nightmare said.

“Forgive me but he is not addicted. He often goes days without drinking, but when he does, it makes up for it.” Blue said and Nightmare scoffed.

“Still, thank you. Any idea when it would be opportune to strike?” Nightmare asked, tilting his head.

“When I leave. Dream will be tired and Ink will have a hangover. It is also the day I am to return to Underswap. Attacking a well known AU around that time, I suggest StorySwap, would be best for you. Unless you have other plans?” Blue said, wringing his hands under the table and out of Nightmare’s field of vision.

“That is absolutely perfect. I was planning on attacking that area anyway.” Nightmare said. “Now for my favorite part, got any drama?” The King of all Evil asked.

“Red is planning on asking me out, Lust is flirting with Reaper and Geno is most likely going to murder Lust for flirting with his fiance.” Blue said, and Nightmare appeared to lick his non-existent lips.

“That sounds delicious. I can’t wait to eat those emotions up.” Nightmare said as he hummed in delight.

“Am I excused?” Blue said and Nightmare nodded.

“You can go back to your husband.” Nightmare said, picking Blue up with tentacles and placing him on the other side of the door he opened with another tentacle.

“Thank you.” Blue said as he walked to the stairs.

Next

[serenephenix]

Tangled Twisted Torn

So, it’s been a while and I wanted to just put this out here to revive this blog a little!

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Tangled Twisted Torn

[Fandom]: Miraculous Ladybug

[Rating]: Gen

[Genre]: Hurt/Comfort, Family, Drama, Friendship, Angst with Happy Ending, Identity Reveal

[AU]: Gabriel Agreste/ Hawk Moth are two different people

[Pairing]: hints of Ladrien/Marichat

[Word count]: 27,315 (total)

[Warning]: generous amounts of angst, mentions of depression & symptoms, parenting done horribly wrong

[Status]: completed/ 4 chapters

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Chapter 1: The Climax

The situation was worse than she had anticipated as the pushed open the doors to the inner courtyard of her school. The midday sun cast a fresh glow into the gloom that pressed in on her from all sides, yet it did not lighten up the place nor its atmosphere.

As she ventured forth, letting go of the door, it shut closed and Marinette regretted it dearly not only because without the source of light the darkness pressed in on her but also because the loud clank that the door had emitted would alert whatever Akuma had taken residence here.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose, making her whirl around, feeling like she was being watched. But the court was deserted, enormous spider webs, both in their usual geometrical shapes and some more like drawn curtains with how thickly they were webbed, obscuring the ceiling and blocking off various stairs and doors.

For once, even in her Ladybug persona, she felt more than just apprehension – she was outright scared. Had there not been a desperate cry from across the phone line from Alya, screaming about a masked boy terrorizing the school, she might have arrived back from break to find herself in front of a building that was dead silent, wondering where everyone had gone.

She jumped about a mile when something crawled on her shoulder, the startled scream escaping her before she could stop it and brushing at her right shoulder frantically. She was surprised to see a spider, probably half as big as the palm of her hand, dropping on the ground and scuttle away urgently into the shadows.

A sense of foreboding filled her.

“I really, really don’t like this.”, she muttered to herself, mostly to calm herself and light the mood. It made her realize just why she was so on edge.

With urgency she snatched her yoyo from her hip, opening a channel to communicate her situation to Chat. The screen remained eerily blank as she tried even harder to get through to him but the call remained unanswered. Of all the times for him to not be available, this had to be the absolute the worst.

His presence, and his night-vision especially, would make her feel her more secure. Even his exasperating puns would be welcome right now; anything to make her feel a little less small and desolate.

The air inside here was already affecting her: not a good sign. It meant that whatever Akuma she was dealing with had to be very powerful. Although she knew she could hold her own against an akumatized person whose anger or sadness were shallow, people with strong feelings like with Kim, Alya or the mime, made for formidable and redoubtable foes.

These were the kinds of Akuma that made her consider twice even trying to handle the situation on her own.

But if the darkened screen was anything to go by, there really was no choice in the matter. Snapping her yoyo shut, Ladybug advanced carefully. The Akuma was hiding here somewhere and probably holding her friends hostage. A spike of fear shot through at the thought of Alya, Adrien, Nino and any of her classmates being trapped somewhere in this oppressing, dark liar that the Akuma had made out of her school.

Taking a run, she jumped up and grabbed onto the handrail of one of the staircases and hefted herself over it and onto the steps silently. Intuition telling her to further down the corridor, she made sure not to brush the nets obstructing her path. She was not sure if these were as sticky as your usual spider web or even more so because of their unnatural size.

The double doors to the auditorium were wide open like the maws of a hungry animal beckoning her inside. She was hesitant to enter. This could be a trap, it probably was but the decision was taken from her when she was showered with a myriad of spiders, tumbling from the ceiling.

Screaming would have been a relief but she was too freaked out to even do that. She ran through the doors, panicked, trying to shake the little nuisances off of her and out of her hair. He shuddered violently in revulsion. Usually something like that would not faze her but the whole atmosphere made her more skittish than she ever would have allowed.

It was for things like this she needed Chat. True, she always told him off whenever he tried to joke during fights but what she wouldn’t give for one of his terrible puns right now. He may be clumsy and an incorrigible flirt but his presence at her side always held a comforting quality.

The hall was empty, webs spun across its ceiling and down over the windows over which the curtains had not been drawn, yet the silvery threads draped over them so thickly that light was scarce. It upset her that she had played right into her opponent’s hand.

A figure in the dark drew her attention. Electrifying, slitted green eyes gazed at her, her heart leaping up her throat with relief. She was about to call out to her partner for help, but the words died away when he moved closer into dim light that penetrated through a thick web on one of the windows.

“Who would have thought I’d be lucky enough to have a little Ladybug flying into my net.”

Marinette was too shocked for words at the sight greeting her.

“Surprised to see me?” His voice was smooth, just like when they were on patrol - unmistakeable. He considered her a moment longer, his eyes narrowing in a manner that was more threatening than playful. “Usually I would say ‘cat gout your tongue’ but that really doesn’t fit anymore now, does it?”

Her mouth was dry and her mind still scrambling to regain full coherency as she looked at the person who was supposed to be her partner.

The black leather suit was almost the same, sans the characteristic ears, bell and the belt acting as a makeshift tail. A butterfly-shaped mask covered a little less of his face than his normal one, exposing a slanted nose and high, rounded cheeks. His hair was as wild and wind-swept as ever but it looked even more unkempt than usual. Peeking from beneath the golden locks was a purple headgear, four pointy spikes like pincers coming to frame the lower part of his face. Tigh-high black boots clicked too loudly on the floor as he took a few more languid steps towards her. She noticed a purple pattern that almost blended with the black of the rest of his outfit – a stylized spider web stretching out over his torso where his heart should be and two angular lines twisting around his arms like shackles, ending at the tip of the third finger at each of his hands.

A simple, violet rubber band, similar to the ones Nino liked to wear, stood out oddly against his ensemble. She instantly knew where the accursed butterfly had sought refuge.

She steeled herself, pushing the implications that came with the item into the back of her mind. The fact that his black ring was missing disturbed her. Hopefully it was still on his person and not already in the clutches of their enemy.

“What are you doing, Chat?”, it was less of a question and more of a demand. She could not figure it out - not just the part about how he had been influenced by Hawk Moth but also why he was targeting her school specifically. Dread pooled into her stomach like chips of ice. Did he know about her civilian identity and so by extension Hawk Moth?

He studied her face before looking off at the side, tapping his lip as though in thought.

“I don’t know.”, he mocked, giving her a feral smirk, “Maybe I happen to like this place?”

She stared at him not sure what to make of this kind information.

A spider had found its way onto his shoulder but instead of disgust a small smile showed as he gently petted it with a single finger. The whole image was unsettling, knowing that this was her partner and friend.

“Oh, the others are behaving.”, he murmured. Yet, with how silent it was, she did not even need to strain her ears, “That’s good.”

An angry frown settled on her face, taking a guess about who these “others” were.

“What did you do to the students?”

His attention was back on her, his smirk aggravating her all the more for how casual it seemed to be.

“Nothing much.”, he almost sing-songed as he slowly started to circle her at a distance, “I just roped them into staying here with me.”

She wanted to resist but it was impossible.

“Really, Chat? You still have to make lame puns when you’re possessed by an Akuma?”

It had been the wrong thing to say. Faster than she could comprehend, his arm had shot out and her foot was stuck in a white, sticky clump attached to the floor. She struggled hard as Chat closed the distance between them. He was not that much taller than her but in this instance he towered over her like a large predator, his acid green eyes burning.

“I am not Chat Noir.”, he hissed, his glare making her shrink back, “I am now Fileur.”

His hand twitched upwards as though ready to grasp her chin but to her astonishment he refrained from doing so, resorting to just staring at her with an unreadable expression.

The suffocating silence stretched and for once Marinette really had no idea what was going through the silly cat’s head. Usually he was so easy to read. Or at least that was what she liked to tell herself. After all she had never once seen him gaze at her with such broken but hopeful eyes.

She jerked when he lightly took both her hands, his touch nothing but a mere brush to her fingers. It was more disconcerting than if he had crushed them in his grip.

“My Lady,”, he began and she was startled when she involuntarily recognized something of Chat in that tone, “please stay here with me and the others.”

It made no sense. Just what emotion had bred the Akuma?

The answer became obvious when she managed to catch a glimpse of his expression through her own shock and bewilderment.

He was taught, anxiously waiting for her answer, anxious to see her turn her back on him and leave him behind. It broke her heart. She thought they’d established that he was important to her, her invaluable partner. She thought she’d made it clear that his presence was a welcome one. It had never occurred to her that he could feel lonely or doubt she would want him by her side.

But was it just that?

It couldn’t be. This was not just something between them. Why else would her friends and other students have been dragged into this mess? This boy, who she now had to accept was part of the student body of this school, maybe someone she knew and had most likely crossed paths with on a daily basis, was lonely - lonely enough to have become an Akuma. Her mind was racing, trying to narrow down the list of possible victims in record time. Maybe it could help her in swaying him, in distracting him enough to destroy the band and free him from the butterfly’s influence.

Nathanel sprang to mind but it was illogical, although the boy was indeed all by himself most of the time. Kim and Ivan were out of the count simply because of their height and she did not think that while her and Chat’s disguises altered their appearance in more subtle ways that it could actually hide that much bulk. Adrien she considered briefly, although that made no sense either, since he was popular and liked to spend time with Nino. Maybe she was on the wrong track and it was someone from another class…

His twitching fingers alerted her to the fact that he was still waiting, although resignation had mingled with the sadness.

“I see.”, he breathed, about to let his fingers slip but Ladybug, in a moment of desperate improvisation, held onto them more firmly.

Either she was now digging her grave or this crude plan that had taken root in her head might work out. She had to humor him long enough for her to slip off the rubber band and tear it apart. There was no other way!

“Actually”, she said, hoping that her voice sounded convincing enough, “I would like that.”

She hated how those words made his face glow; she hated how she would probably break his heart.

“Let’s go see the others!”, he said excitedly, suddenly buzzing with a giddy energy that was completely at odds with his hostile appearance. Seeing him so genuinely happy made her feel as though a nail was being driven into her chest. Hopefully, she would be able to make him smile like this again once he was back to normal.

His gloved hand went for her ear and she knew what he was about to do even before he had voiced it: “You won’t be needing these anymore.”

Luckily, her reflexes took over. Her left foot was stuck but with her right one still free, there was plenty she could do. She ducked away from his touch, dropping into a crouch and swiping her leg across the floor, tripping her surprised partner and slamming the heel of her foot onto his chest for good measure, effectively winding him.

Chat (because she refused to call him anything but) was a gasping, spluttering mess on the floor and Marinette hoped she had not hurt him too bad. Knowing there was little time left, she took the string of her yo-yo between her fingers and with its help shaved off parts of the lumpy web that held her to the floor. Not looking back, she stormed out through the door, an outraged scream following in her wake.

She ran, dodging webs and nets that came flying from behind her, Chat already in pursuit.

In purr-suit.

God, she wanted to hit herself. Channeling her partner’s abysmal sense of humour would not help her freeing the latter. Taking a risk, she turned around just as she passed a huge glass display filled with art projects from students, throwing her yo-yo at it and making it topple over with a crunching thud, broken glass and contents spilling on the floor.

It forced Chat to retreat a step or two, but his accusing glare closed the distance between them effortlessly. Their staring stalemate was interrupted when a door behind Ladybug crashed open, flooding the corridor with sunlight.

With war cries, her friends and classmates emerged: Ivan and Kim were armed with broomsticks, while Nino brandished an oversized ruler for the blackboard like a sword. Alya looked downright ferocious with how the sharp edge of an equally large set square was pointed at Chat.

Others were huddled behind this intimidating frontline but the heroine could not distinguish what kinds of ‘weapons’ they had chosen to go against their foe with. She noted, with great worry, that Adrien was nowhere to be seen.

Alya gave a surprised “Ladybug?” but Marinette had no time to spare, because a panicked shout from Chat had her looking back at him.

His face was a mixture of deception and anger, laced with that fear she had seen earlier. For a moment, she was afraid that he would attack but he opted to take off through one of the overhead windows, seemingly not thinking he could take on so many adversaries, even if only one of them was on par with his abilities.

Ladybug followed him with her eyes, worry clenching her throat shut until it felt like it had shrunk down to the width of a one cent coin. She decided to run after him once she had made sure that everyone was safe.

Turning around, she looked straight at her best friend, the sight of her unharmed giving her all the strength and confidence she needed.

“Are you alright? Is everyone okay?”

Before Alya could even utter a sound, Chloé fought her way from the far back to the front, shoving and pushing at people, screeching and complaining at the top of her lungs: “Of course not! Couldn’t you have come earlier! All those spider webs are completely ruining my shirt!”

She wiped down her pristine white tank-top with a look of disgust, before Ivan removed her forcefully, her protest loud and clear but Marinette tuned it out in favour of listening to her friend.

“We are alright.”, she assured, exhaling slowly “Fileur didn’t do anything to us.”

Marinette blinked at her confusedly and Nino sprung in to clarify: “It’s crazy, but he actually never even touched a hair on any of us.”

“Yeah, he just herded us inside the classroom and simply glued the door shut with his web!”, someone, maybe Alix, shouted from the end of the mass of students.

That was not something Ladybug had expected. At least not from an akumatized victim. Although, Chat Noir always was too nice.

Maybe that was why he had become possessed in the first place…

She had to keep it together; she could not space out like this. She needed answers and leads.

“Did he say anything to you?”, she inquired, hoping that it might give her a hint as to what he was after, although she already had a good idea.

They suddenly looked very uncomfortable, as though they themselves had yet to wrap their minds about whatever words had undoubtedly been directed at them.

“Well,”, Alya finally said, “He was going on about how we would all stay here with him, that he just needed to find both you and my friend, Marinette, and that we would have all a great time together.”

“Is your friend alright?”, she ventured, thus ensuring no one would ever suspect her . “Is there anybody else missing?”

The fact that Adrien had been left out of the equation upset her. Did Chat maybe hold a grudge against the boy, wanting him left out or removed from the others because he had made friends so easily? Had he done something to him? There was something missing.

“Marinette was at home when the attack happened, so she’s fine but…”

“But another friend is missing. Adrien Agreste, the model, ya know?”, Nino asked and Ladybug nodded. She was taken aback by the dark boy’s crestfallen look.

“He ran off and before I could find him we were being attacked.”

Concern flooded her. She too had noticed something had been bothering her crush all day but any and all questions by his friends were met with a polite smile and a swipe of his hand.

“We gotta find him!”, Nino suddenly exclaimed with a shudder, which his classmates copied as they looked at their altered surroundings, “The classroom was downright cheery compared to this. He could be stuck somewhere!”

It was a difficult decision but Ladybug shook her head no: “It’s too dangerous. You all have to go home before Fileur can catch you all again. He is after the class as a whole. Once you separate he will have a much harder time accomplishing his goal.”

She could see them ready to protest but she stopped them with a sign of her hand.

“If you insist, I give you ten minutes to look for him but promise you will be gone if you do not find him.”

That made them comply and she readied herself to follow her partner through the remains of the window, when Alya, ever the journalist, asked the one question she had dreaded: “Hey, where is Chat Noir?”

She almost stumbled, the string of her yo-yo which was attached to a beam on the ceiling the only thing keeping her from falling.

“He is occupied.”

And she fled before she could give anything away. People’s memories were erased when they had been under the influence of an Akuma or its victim in an attack that altered their minds. Powers like those of Mr. Pigeon or Stormy Weather were not easily ignored and not wiped from people’s minds once she used her Miraculous.

The less people knew about Chat’s involvement, the better for him and his reputation.

Speeding over the roofs of the city, she sought out the highest point she could reach in the vicinity, but the altered Chat remained elusive, having left no indication as to where he was headed.

The glare of the sun’s rays was mocking her and Marinette felt like storm clouds would have been the most fitting setting for today’s events. She ventured down a boulevard, gauging the reaction of people, hoping for anything that could give away her partner’s whereabouts. People were pointing at her instead, frustration growing inside her, until her ears picked up the broadcast of a radio station from inside a red car with its windows down.

She hurried towards it, urging the gaping man inside to turn up the volume.

“…tourists and citizens are speaking of a black-clad man attacking anyone approaching Eiffel Tower.

Sounds quite troublesome, if you ask me Jean.

It is. The police forces can’t get past, seeing as their equipment and most of their men are stuck in some kind of net…”

She needn’t hear any more. Her body was on autopilot as she swung from roof to roof, crossing over courtyards with powerful jumps, her eyes trained on the tip of the city’s emblem.

From afar, she never would have noticed a change but as she landed at the foot of the tower, the silvery nets and glittering threads were impossible to miss in the sunlight. They barricaded the doors to the elevator, made accessing the stairs impossible and climbing in any other fashion was out of the question, the poor, terrified policemen stuck to beams a grim warning to anyone daring enough to try.

She saw Sabrina’s father, Roger, hurrying towards her but she decided it was best to avoid any sorts of questions that might give away the actual situation.

“Sorry, Mr. Roger but I have to go right now!”

Looking for a beam that was not coated she swung her way up, having an idea where exactly Chat had made his base.

The top was partly covered in what looked like a great cocoon of webs but an obvious opening gave her the possibility to enter with a leap.

She rolled onto the narrow platform, trying to quickly assess the situation, to make sure Chat could not surprise her with an attack from her dead angle.

She avoided the net aimed at her head by a hair, pivoting to face her partner. Chat stood behind her, shaking with unbridled anger, his hand that was not outstretched fisted in a manner that had to hurt his knuckles. He was breathing heavily through his nose as though there was not enough air entering his lungs, his mouth a pale thin line. The thing that surprised her the most was the moisture shining in his eyes.

“Why!”, he screamed, voice booming and filled with unrestrained rage, “Why are you trying to steal it all from me!”

She dodged as he threw another web at her, his accusation having thrown her off balance both physically and emotionally.

“I don’t know what you mean!”

She ducked under another onslaught of threads and nets, taking a few steps back, her words having rallied up her friend even more. If only she had called for her Lucky Charm before having entered his liar. Now, she would not get that kind of golden opportunity again.

“Talk to me, Chat! What are you so afraid of?”, she screamed at him, because she was scared, scared for her friend whom she had never seen act like that, whom she wanted to help, who she wanted to save just as he had done so many times for her.

Her pleading eyes seemed to do the trick for he stilled in his attack, his eyes an open book, showing all his reluctance to hurt her, his inner turmoil, his uncertainty, his shame.

A pink halo of a butterfly illuminated his face, making him grunt and hold his head as if in pain. She had to act while Hawk Moth distracted him. Closing the distance between them with a powerful jump, she landed in front of him and grabbed his right arm with a bone-crushing force, anything to make sure that he could not get away.

Instead struggling or trying to push her off, he did yet again something she had not counted on: Locking his other arm just beneath her shoulders from around her back her trapped her against him, pressing hard enough that it became difficult to breathe.

The pink halo still rimmed his face as he stared at her intently, his mouth drawn into a snarl, although she could not say for sure if it was entirely directed at her.

She did not loosen her grip and Chat increased the pressure again, bruising her arms but she would not let go.

The pink flared with light and Chat actually sagged as if whatever Hawk Moth was doing, took all of his strength. It was all she needed. Wriggling out, she slid her hand over his whole arm, the rubber band slipping over his hand easily. She put as much distance between as she could with one kick.

“No!”

The desperation in that shout stilled her as she prepared to rip the accessory to shreds, wanting to reduce this thing that had twisted him to smithereens. But she made the monumental mistake to look at Chat’s face.

Gone was the anger and the superiority, the banter and threatening aura. In its wake stood a boy about to break.

“Please,” he pleaded pitifully, crumpling to his knees, shaking as if he were caught in a blizzard, “Please, don’t destroy it. Please, don’t take it away. I’ll do anything, just please,” he wailed, tears now spilling forth as easily as his sob-wrecked begging “Don’t make me go back.”

He was outright crying now and Marinette remained frozen, torn between returning her partner to normal and suddenly realizing that once the Akuma was purged, her friend’s problems might be far from over.

Chat was always expressive and open. It had never occurred to her that the life he led outside of patrols, fights with villains and their friendly banter could be anything but enjoyable. He had never given her an indication that there might be something fundamentally wrong with it.

His mask had fooled her pretty good.

She wanted to hug him, hold him close, give him the security and comfort that he obviously needed, that he had craved enough to let Hawk Moth coerce him into cooperation him.

She wanted to help him, to make sure that whatever was tormenting him would be banished from his life.

Darkness bubbled around his ankles, revealing white sneakers, the pink halo returning and painting a horrified expression on Chat’s face. Ladybug knew that Hawk Moth was now threatening to take Chat’s powers away and she saved him the indecision and herself the pain of knowing which side he might choose.

“Sorry, Chat.”

And she ripped the rubber band in two.

Chat sat on his haunches, looking as if his world had ended while she trapped the tiny butterfly in her yo-yo and cleansing it silently, unable to send it off as cheerily as she usually did. Throwing her weapon into the air, her powers swept over her immediate surroundings and over the city, the obstructing cocoon vanishing, giving way to a bright, blue sky behind a now repaired steel grid.

She turned as a hazy purple layer lifted from her partner and picked up the inconspicuous electric-blue rubber band lying on the platform.

Her partner would be disoriented, she knew, probably not remembering what he had done. The urge to turn around and console him was physically painful to repress.

The prolonged silence was not broken by questions but by a strangled sob.

“I’m sorry.”

She startled, almost facing him but refraining: “Do you remember?”

The sobs grew louder and laboured: “No, but me being here without my ring and you being here on top of the Eiffel Tower is all I need to know.”

The beep of her earring alarmed them to the little they had left and Ladybug had never hated it more than now.

A back blur zoomed past her ear at lightning speed. She and Chat gave cries of surprise, her having turned around on instinct but a flash of green blinding her momentarily. Blinking her eyes open, she was surprised to see her partner in full attire, a look of bewilderment on his face as he stared at his hand where a familiar black ring sat on his finger, a green paw shining brilliantly.

It must have been his kwami, she finally realized.

“Plagg?”, Chat breathed quietly but crying still and the flow of tears increasing. His eyes shone with gratitude, disbelief, relief but it was smothered under guilt and self-reproach. He cradled his hand to his chest like a wounded animal.

“I’m so sorry, so, so sorry, please forgive me, I’m so sorry…”

It was a terrible chant.

Ignoring the beeping and her initial reservations, she went over to her hunched friend and embraced him. He went rigid under her touch and to her great relief finally stopped his frenzied apologies.

She felt the fabric of her suit growing damp on her right shoulder.

“Shhh.”, she soothed, running a hand over his messy mop of blond hair but he seemed reluctant to let her comfort him, unwilling to reciprocate the embrace.

“You should go.”, he rasped, driving her to instead hug him closer, “Your miraculous…”

“You know,” she cut him off gently, stunning him into silence, “I think I just decided that your wellbeing might be more important than my secret.”

She did not think it physically possible for a human to cry any harder than he did at that moment, suddenly flinging his arms around her and holding onto her as though she was his lifeline.

She could feel tears gather in the corner of her own eyes, his distress too raw to bear.

The final beep rang out and her suit vanished. Chat froze in her arms like a startled kitten and she continued to stroke his locks in her civilian form. From the corner of her eyes she could see Tikky settling on her other shoulder, her eyes filled with compassion and sadness.

Marinette found it strange that no one had come up here yet, but maybe people assumed that there could not possibly be anyone left on the top-most platform. Wind swept past them lazily and under the burning mid-day sun her partner wept his heart out. She could feel her phone buzzing in her pocket a few times, panicked calls from friends and classmates surely, but she ignored her need to know whether they were fine and whether Adrien had been found in order to provide all the comfort Chat needed.

It took some time, her legs having gone numb from her sitting on them for too long, but finally her friend managed to breathe normally again and his sobs subsided. He had yet to lift his head and Marinette could not help but admire him for being respectful of her old wishes even while such a mess himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His hands fisted into her jacket, his knuckles cracking.

“I’m going to lose everything I have worked so hard for and there is nothing I can do to avoid it.”

He did not start crying again but he began to shake anew.

“How come?”, she asked kindly, rubbing small circles on his back. He felt almost feverish under her touch but her partner had always been a furnace.

The answer took its time to travel from his brain to his mouth.

“My… parent decided that I am not meeting their expectations anymore.”, defeat was evident in his voice, “He has decided that I am to stay at home at all times just like before but…”

He choked, and Marinette’s heart bled as he took shaky breaths.

“I can’t.” he confessed, voice hoarse from crying and pain, “I don’t want to lose all the friends I’ve made. I don’t want to return to a cold and empty house full of people just there to keep me in line.”

“I don’t want to give up on being Chat Noir.”, he finished with a self-depreciating laugh, his mind on the events that had led to this very moment.

It sounded as awful as it probably was for her friend.

“I was fighting so hard to keep myself in check. I knew he would target me.”

The guilt was tearing him apart.

“But when he told me that there was a way to escape it all, when he made it clear that even as Chat I would not be able to outrun my father’s influence… the only thing I could do was rip the ring off my finger and tell Plagg to run.”

He held her close, seemingly hoping that through touch alone he could communicate everything he wanted to tell her, to make her understand all of these emotions that tormented him.

“I’m sorry I let you down, both you and Plagg. I’m a terrible partner.”

“No, you aren’t.”, she told him, her voice loud, clear and commanding. She felt the leather ears perk one the side of her head.

“Even while possessed, you remained kind.”

She had had a glimpse at the classroom, flooded with light when the schoolhouse had been dim and dark. She remembered her friends saying he had not hurt them, despite keeping them inside. She had not forgotten about his gentle hold on her hands or his initial self-restriction to touch her in a ruthless fashion.

“It must have been lonely. You have nobody to talk to, am I right?”

He shook his head, effectively burying his nose in the crook of her neck, warm but ragged breaths ghosting over her skin. It did not bother her as much as it might have on any other day. A lot of things were going to inevitably change from today onwards.

She regretted having kept their identities secret. She had thought it to be for the best, to make it easier to protect themselves and their loved ones. In the end it had only led to pain and the very thing she had so feared.

They would need to talk about Hawk Moth as well, since now he knew about Chat’s identity. How much they were at risk right now, she did not know but she did not want to weigh him done even more. His heart was already heavy enough with shame and sadness.

She cast Tikky a questioning look, silently asking her for advice. Was it too risky to reveal herself? Would it help prevent such incidents? A reassurance that should something similar happening again, they both could seek out the other for support?

Old eyes glanced back at her, yet they held no answer. It was a decision she would have to make on her own and to bear the consequences of it.

“Chat,” she said quietly, catching his attention, “what if … what if you just lifted your head?”

He went rigid, to the point Marinette was afraid that he had suddenly turned to stone.

She frowned.

“No.”, he hushed, burying his head deeper into her shoulder. Marinette would have never expected that kind of answer but it did painfully make sense.

“If I know your identity and this happens again, then Hawk Moth will have the both of us. We can’t risk it.”

His laugh was anything but jovial: “Here I have my Lady, willing to take off her mask and because I messed up, I won’t get a chance to appreciate the person behind it.”

She opted to quietly stroke his hair as he went on: “I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to remain a Miraculous wielder.”

He hands stilled. That thought had yet to occur to her and the realization how very possible this outcome was stole her breath away.

Tikky patted her cheek, making Marinette jerk, having forgotten that her kwami was still present. Chat tensed further under her but otherwise did not try to move, probably fearing he would catch a glimpse of her.

Tikky shook of the head, addressing Chat: “You needn’t worry. You, and only you, are the Chosen for taking up the role of Chat Noir. As long as you do not reject that name, none but you can bear the name and duty of protecting Ladybug.”

The unfamiliar voice startled him bad but his face remained glued to her shoulder, not otherwise responding to the kwami’s words. She could only hope that he was not seriously considering it.

The buzzing from her pocket increased in frequency, telling her that now she was stretching the limits of Alya’s and possibly her parents’ patience.

“We will have to go soon, people are looking for us.”, she said slowly as she gently untangled from their embrace. As she gingerly stood on wobbly legs, prickling with pins and needles, she saw Chat closing his eyes, head turned sideways.

He looked miserable and lost but there was no time, unless she wanted her best friend to turn to the authorities. She also needed to check on Adrien.

“Do you” he began and swallowed before going on, “do you need help getting off the tower?”

A smile graced her features as she squeezed his shoulder.

“I’ll be alright, kitty. There’s this nifty invention they call elevator and if that does not work there’s always the stairs.”

It coaxed a twitch of his mouth out of him but not much more.

“We will find a solution to this.”, she told him reassuringly and with a bit of persuasion, if not for him then for herself, “I will see you around.”

She did not dare formulate it as a question, a small part of her still terrified at the idea that he might take this as an incentive to disappear for good.

She waited, as he sat there, worrying his lips until finally his quiet affirmation washed some of the worry away.

In a bout of affection and sympathy, she leaned down and planted a quick kiss on the crown of his head, slipping the rubber band into his open palm, a stifled gasp coming out of him before she turned to take the stairs.

Going down with the elevator would attract too much attention, she concluded. Opening her purse while minding every step she took, she briefly stopped to watch Chat Noir’s form retreat into the distance as he sprang from the tower.

She felt immensely bad for having kept from him the fact that she now knew without a doubt that he was from her school as well as not actually having concrete solutions to his civil life problem.

Securing her purse and checking that Tikky’s supply of cookies was still intact, the kwami already nibbling on the edge of a treat, she grabbed her phone and checked all the messages that had come in during their time on top of the tower.

Mostly, frantic texts from Alya asking where she was and whether she was alright, others depicting their rescue by Ladybug and few worrying ones about Adrien still missing - not even his secretary knowing where he had disappeared to.

Marinette’s stomach twisted into a hard knot. She briefly bemoaned the fact that she had missed the chance to ask Chat but remembered that it would not have made a difference since he did not remember anything that had happened at school. He would not know where to look for their friend.

As she reached the final steps another message arrived, informing her that Adrien had been found.

A sigh untangled her insides and made her chest lighter.

Apparently he had been stuck in the locker room, unable to leave. On a side note, Alya mentioned that after all the commotion, school had been cancelled for the rest of the day, many of the students and teachers too upset to work effectively anymore.

She texted Alya back immediately, once she was on firm ground and making sure that none of the police men were looking her way or paying a misplaced single student too much attention. Most of them were still dazed by the events to pay much attention to her anyway.

Upon her return home, she was greeted by her parents and her best friend all of them demanding to know where she had been. It seemed that the excuse of her having roamed the streets in hopes of finding Ladybug was deemed reasonable.

When Alya’s phone chimed while she and Marinette sat at a table in the bakery, the latter could not help but notice the frown on her best friend’s face.

“What is it?”

Alya gave her a conflicted glance before sighing: “Nino’s worried about Adrien, is all.”

She had hastened her speech, maybe hoping that Marinette would not catch on but she underestimated her ability to focus on minor details when it came to her crush.

“But I thought you said he was alright!”, she really did not want to make it sound accusing but with everything she had been through today it was somewhat difficult to keep her emotions in check.

Alya gave her a look between understanding and vindicative.

“I haven’t seen him to be honest, I was only relaying the first message Nino sent me.”

She seemed to consider her next words carefully.

“He just wrote that Adrien was being awfully quiet. He’s probably spooked from having been trapped in a dark room the whole time.”

He face scrunched up in what Marinette recognized to be her “journalist” expression, the one where she would discuss theories and findings until Marinette’s ears had already fallen off and run over the hills.

“That Fileur guy was really strange you know.”

Marinette felt her limbs go stiff with shock. She should have expected this, but she was not yet ready to have this talk. Not so shortly after having seen her partner dissolved into tears.

But she had to play along if she did not want Alya to get suspicious.

“Oooh, really?”, her voice sounded strangled, like a poor trapped animal and she was glad Alya was too absorbed to notice.

The dark-skinned girl nodded.

“He wouldn’t stop talking about how we could all just stay at school with him. That no one had to be all alone anymore…”

She stopped there and her grey eyes held a disquieted gloom that Marinette had seldom seen there: “He actually sounded really lonely.”

Marinette did not trust her voice, prompting her to nod.

“I wonder who it could have been?”, she mumbled to herself before turning back to Marinette, “You got any ideas?”

Marinette shook her head no and was relieved when Alya dropped the subject once it became clear that she, who had been absent, could not provide more insight on the matter, even though the enthusiastic blogger could not have been more wrong.

The quiet of the night and exhaustion did not bring her the sleep she wished would take her worries from her shoulders for a while. Beside her Tikky lay on the pillow wide awake and watching her attentively as she tossed and turned.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, the red kwami asked tentatively.

They had opted to not mentioning today’s events over the course of the evening but the doubts and nagging thoughts remained nonetheless, keeping her from sleeping.

Marinette turned her head, looking at her friend intently.

“I just want to make sure he is alright.”, she whispered into the darkness, “He was so shaken up and… I want to make up to him.”

She felt at fault too. They were supposed to support one another, yet she had relied too much on his goofiness and as she had now to accept, thick-layered and exaggerated humor, his independence and confidence which were actually as fragile as glass.

Though she had done so before, she now wondered with more seriousness about the boy behind the mask of Chat Noir. She had always pictured a boy with the same unruly hair, a flirtatious smirk on his lips at the ready and surrounded by his friends who would laugh at his jokes and look up to him for being the cool kid with the fast quips and big mouth. A boy who was trying to woo the girls with smart (?) remarks. A joker and jester who laughed the loudest. An open book. A kind and supportive soul with a touch of clumsiness. A brave kid who was in over his head, doing break-neck stunts at the park with his friends.

What she had seen today did not align at all with that mental image she had crafted.

The Chat she had witnessed today was afraid. The Chat she had seen was lonely, cherishing the few people close to him. The Chat that had been revealed to her today was not free, tied to a leash of responsibilities or restrictions imposed on him. The Chat she discovered was terrified of being left behind. The Chat she had consoled today was starving for love and attention.

It shattered everything she had thought she knew about her partner.

How she wished that her cleansing light could have made disappear whatever had loomed over her partner’s head. It made her want to make sure he was not agonizing over his akumatization, to make sure he would not disappear into the night to be gone forever. She could not face Hawk Moth on her own.

Tikky shook her head as Marinette looked at her glowing eyes.

“Give him time. I am sure that Plagg is making sure he is not endangering himself or doing something rash.”, she sounded almost amused, picking Marinette’s interest.

“Plagg is Chat’s kwami, isn’t he?” That sort of made him Tikky’s partner she mused.

“He is indeed.”, she said fondly, “Loves mischief as much as cheese, but in the end he will be there for his miraculous.”

Although she should feel reassured by those words, Marinette could not put her heart at ease, beating inside her ribcage like a restless bird.

The tip of one of Tikky’s limbs stroked at her cheek gently: “Just try to sleep.”

Next morning came yet again with sunshine and cloudless skies but Marinette had to wrestle herself out of bed anyway, sleep having been elusive into the early hours of the night. Exhaustion had dragged her under and still held her firmly in its clutches as she descended into the kitchen and bit into a freshly baked croissant. Not even the tea her mother brewed, a mix of mint and lemon grass, could wake her completely.

The dreams she had had were mere snippets but had been unsettling and dark, although she could not remember them clearly. She was not even sure if they had even made sense.

It had taken most of her self-control to keep from contacting Chat, just to make sure, just to know and to be there if needed.

Alya was upon her the instant she saw her slightly ashen complexion and tired eyes. Telling her that she had had a rough night was not even a lie. Alya gave her an incredulous expression, somewhere between amused and offended.

“It’s funny how you are having nightmares when you haven’t even been trapped in a school turned into a spooky haunted manor.”

She chuckled at that, scratching at her cheek sheepishly for good measure.

“Are you alright, Alya?”

Her friend gave her a wink: “I might have spent a good portion of yesterday mulling over what happened but it could have been worse.”

Marinette blinked up at her in confusion.

“You remember when Mylene got turned into that gooey monster, trapping everyone in the basement in cocoons? Would be kind of difficult, since you were in one of them.”

She threw her an accusing look.

“You never told me what that was like, you know?”

Marinette nodded a bit too quickly, chuckling: “Not very comfortable.”

It was lame, but what could she say when she had never seen the inside of one of those capsules?

Alya bought it anyway and held the door open as they entered the classroom. There were some students already sat at their desks, chattering amongst themselves but generally looking in good spirits, the incident seemingly not having left too bad of an impression on them. It made her heart a little lighter.

When her eyes fell on Adrien’s empty seat, worry gnawed at her.

Bless Alya for her quick thinking.

“Hey, don’t make that face. The bell has not rung yet, so he might be running a little late.”

She turned to Nino, who looked up from his phone when they approached they friend. He gave them a smile, surely having heard and deduced what they were talking about. Being Alya’s best friend he had adopted a bit of her enthusiasm for teasing Marinette about her crush but had never betrayed her trust by telling Adrien. For that alone Marinette could never be thankful enough.

“No worries.”, he assured “He hasn’t texted me that he would be absent, so he’ll be here in a short while.”

His hopeful tone made her at ease and with that in mind she sat down, beginning to listen to Alya discussing her ideas for making navigation on the Ladyblog easier and neat.

She was just about to explain how she was struggling with changing the settings for redirecting people to other sites when the door opened and Adrien entered.

Any ounce of happy Marinette had managed to scrap together today evaporated when she looked at him. Yesterday she had thought he appeared downtrodden. Today he had to be beyond miserable.

He had, admittedly, done an amazing job at covering it up. His hair was as impeccable as always but his locks covered a bit more of his face, like a protective curtain to shield his eyes that were slightly bloodshot. His skin looked fresh and healthy but Marinette realized it was all make-up when she caught sight of a slightly darker spot close to his ear, testament that he had not properly smudged it there.

The most telling feature though was the glum air that clung to him. It was not heavy but it was noticeable, very different from his usual composed and content demeanour.

Nino’s and Alya’s expression were as shocked as she felt. Wordlessly, the blond sat himself beside his best friend, brushing off any try at conversation with a simple shake of his head. Something must have happened at home, for he only acted that way when his family was concerned, Marinette knew.

Or was it due to yesterday? He had, after all, spent a great amount of time all alone in a dreary sealed-off room. She would also be shaken by something like that.

She was shaken still.

Her staring had her losing her grip on the pencil she had been doodling with absentmindedly, its clatter loud and clear as it bounced past her desk and towards her crush. Despite her best attempts at catching it, Adrien picked it up right before her nose, the shadow of a smile gracing his lips as he handed it back to her.

“Here you go.”, he said quietly, his voice throaty but smooth, putting the object in her slack palm.

Marinette wished she could have given him a reply but any and all thought-process had stilled.

An electrifying, blue rubber band circled his wrist, mocking her.

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

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