#so much spite

[thecatspasta]

DRAGON TMA AU!!????? WOAGSHDH HOLY SHIT THATS COOL. LOVE THAT SO MUCH. PLEASE TALK AT ME ABOUT IT ALSO YOUR ART IS FUCKING AMAZING :DDD

I forgor bout this au 4 months but here u go

Uh jon cant open his mouth outside of statements n also the inside of his mouth is lined with eyes. he also had to learn 2 project his thoughts into others heads so he could talk n stuff

idk its been a while lol

[starfinss]

Coup de Grâce — Miraculous 2/2

𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮: Miraculous Ladybug

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir + Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Ladybug

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: SFW

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 7,599

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺:

Coup de Grâce (Noun) A final blow or shot, given to kill a wounded person or animal.

When Adrien starts to put two and two together, he realizes Lila Rossi’s treatment of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng is far worse that he’d ever imagined, and the high road is no longer (and frankly, may have never been) an option. He decides to take matters into his own hands. Game, Set, Match.

Adrien woke the morning after the gala to a phone call.

It was before his alarm, and therefore before Adrien would be answering anything, so he declined the call, rolled over, and closed his eyes again, fully intent on going straight back to sleep.

It rang again.

“Adrien, please, turn off your phone,” Plagg whined, and Adrien grunted, declining the call again.

And, as Adrien expected, it rang again.

Plagg made a soft, disgruntled sound. “I’m going to eat your phone.”

Adrien sat up, brushing his mussed hair out of his sleepy eyes before picking up the phone and finally answering.

“Hello?”

“ADRIEN AGRESTE—”

Adrien pulled the phone an arm’s length away from his ear, startled completely awake by Alya’s shouting. She’d undoubtedly seen Jagged Stone’s livestream, and she indubitably didn’t like what she saw. Why she was awake and screaming at him before six in the morning, Adrien didn’t know, but she was making it very clear that this was his problem, and it was his problem now.

“—She never even TOLD ME—“

Adrien pulled the phone away again, exchanging a glance with Plagg before finally taking a deep breath and pressing the phone back to his ear.

“Alya,” he said, “calm down.”

“Calm do— CALM DOWN?! Don’t you tell me to calm down, you knew about all of this, didn’t you? That she… that SNAKE was lying to me? I can’t BELIEVE I thought Marinette was ever jealous. She knew all along, and I should have trusted her.”

Alya sounded like she was on the verge of tears, and Adrien couldn’t blame her. He’d been the one to tell Marinette to be the bigger person, and that hadn’t turned out well at all.

“Alya,” Adrien repeated, “I feel horrible, too. I told Marinette to take the high road, and Lila ended up bullying her—”

“Wait, wait, hold the ABSOLUTE phone, Agreste, Lila WHAT?! All Marinette said was thats she and Lila didn’t get along, but excuse me— you’re telling me that this BITCH has been bullying my best friend?”

“Yeah,” Adrien said miserably, “I overheard Lila in the locker room with Marinette. Threatening her, calling her names. It was horrible.”

“And you didn’t confront her?!”

Adrien sighed. “What do you think last night was? I couldn’t just tell her off in the locker room, she’d be onto me, no matter how badly I wanted to. I’ve talked to Lila about the lying before, but she never stops. I had to make it stick, and that meant being sneaky.”

Alya was silent for a second before she spoke again. “At LEAST tell me you comforted her. I dunno, gave her a hug, anything? Marinette is sensitive, something like that— going on for that long— oh, God.”

Her voice sounded equal parts miserable and exhausted, and Adrien knew how she felt. He’d felt the same when he finally realized what had been going on.

“Of course, I gave her a hug,” Adrien said, mildly indignant, “I’m not a monster.”

“God, her heart probably was on the verge of exploding.”

Adrien blinked. “What?”

“Nothing, never mind,” Alya said quickly, “I had an inkling of what was going on, Lila threatened Marinette in the bathroom a few months ago, but I stupidly thought she was stretching the truth a little. I believed her, though, I knew she’d never make something like that up. The way she said Lila was acting was… it was scary, Adrien. It seemed almost impossible that she could say those things, Lila always seems so… nice, so genuine.”

Alya scoffed, her voice tight, and angry, and so, so bitter. “But I guess that’s another one of her lies, isn’t it? I’ve been less inclusive of Lila since she makes Marinette uncomfortable, like, you know, not inviting Lila over, or just having time with me and Marinette, but she never told me that Lila was— oh my God, I’ve been such a bad friend.”

“No,” Adrien said, “Lila had everyone fooled. She’s a good liar, I’ll give her that. What matters now is being there for Marinette, I don’t doubt that Lila will try and take this out on her. We have to protect her.”

Adrien paused, “also, why are you calling me this early?”

Alya scoffed tearfully. “You think I got a wink of sleep after seeing that? All I could think about was how I didn’t believe Marinette, my best friend, when she was being bullied. I should’ve stuck with the feeling I got when I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me, because she so obviously wasn’t fine, Adrien, she must’ve felt so alone, and I should have believed her.”

“Then make it up to her,” Adrien said, “apologize, be a good friend, and call Lila out the second you see her at school.”

“Done and done. So much more than done,” Alya snarled, “I’m burying that girl in the fucking ground. She’s dead, Adrien, d-e-a-d, DEAD.”

And with that, she hung up, leaving Adrien sitting, dumbstruck in the darkness of his room.

“It is way too early for all of that,” grumbled Plagg, “what’d she even want, anyway?”

Adrien flopped down on the bed. “You probably heard most of that. She wasn’t exactly quiet. But I’m pretty sure Lila’s life is in danger.”

“Good,” the Kwami scoffed, “she deserves a little misfortune. You have no idea how crazy that girl was driving me.”

Adrien chuckled dryly. “I may have an inkling.”

Plagg fell asleep again in a few seconds, but Adrien wasn’t able to, so he got out of bed and got ready for his morning workout routine. After said routine, he took a shower, longer than usual since he had the time. He was even able to watch a few of his favorite compilation videos of Ladybug before Nathalie came upstairs to fetch him for breakfast.

Said meal passed uneventfully, with little conversation between Adrien and his father. Adrien was still annoyed with him for inviting Lila as his date without running it past him, so that was fine by him. It was only when he was getting into the car to go to school that Nathalie told him he was no longer to associate with Lila Rossi, and that she was no longer welcome in the house.

Adrien pretended to be confused, and when asked why that was, Nathalie simply told him it was ‘bad for PR’ before shutting the car door. Regardless, Adrien accepted the verdict, much more easily than Nathalie expected, Adrien gathered, from her perplexed expression.

That, Adrien decided, was something he could live with.

He was barely in his seat before everything went sideways, and the bell hadn’t even rang yet.

“Dude, what was that?” Nino cried, sliding into the seat beside him, “the class chat is going insane, haven’t you seen any of it?”

“Adrien, we need to talk,” Came Alya’s voice, from somewhere over Adrien’s shoulder.

“No,” Adrien said, turning to Nino, “I haven’t looked at the class chat, I had it muted since last night at the gala since it’s not exactly good etiquette to  have your phone buzzing nonstop. And we will talk, Alya.”

Alya looked like she hadn’t slept, and, from what she’d told Adrien, she hadn’t. Her hair was unwashed, tossed into a ponytail, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She looked a bit like she’d gotten dressed in the dark, or, and Adrien didn’t at all blame her if this were the case, she just didn’t care about looking nice today. She had ass to kick, and nobody said there was a dress code for that.

In Adrien’s case, ass kicking, as well as anything that he considered a good time, involved black leather, as well as tossing himself from building to building and hitting things with a stick, but that was just him.

“I can’t believe that she’s been lying,” Nino sighed, clearly wounded, “all this time, to all of us. What else has she— and with the bullying— How deep does it go? Has she ever told the truth at all?”

Alya scoffed. “Fat chance of that.”

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival Marinette, who seemed just a little more upbeat than she had been the day previous. She’d clearly seen the class chat, and with how big of a fan Adrien knew she was of Jagged Stone, she’d undoubtedly seen the stream. Furthermore, she was more than smart enough to know what Adrien had been doing.

Alya sprang from her seat like she’d been ejected from it, tugging Marinette into a fierce hug. The other girl started, but she hugged her best friend back.

“I’m so sorry,” Alya muttered into Marinette’s shoulder, “I’m so sorry that I didn’t believe you, if you don’t forgive, me I understand, I—”

“Alya,” Marinette said softly, her expression blissfully happy, “no, stop, I forgive you. For her credit, she was a good liar. But— I expect you to buy me a whole box of macarons. Y’know, to make it up to me. And I get to pick the movies we watch, for a whole month.”

“Done,” Alya said in an instant, her relief clear in her voice, “super done.”

Adrien decided not to mention that Marinette lived above a bakery, as that would ruin a sweet moment, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“God, M, why didn’t you tell me?” Alya sighed, and Marinette shrugged.

“I dunno, I thought maybe I was being dramatic, and I— I wanted to solve it myself. So I just said that we didn’t get along.”

Alya scoffed. “I was an idiot to have believed that. But I was an even bigger idiot to have believed Lila.”

“Is Lila even here today?” Adrien asked, and Nino chuckled bitterly.

“She’s here,” he said, leaning back in his seat and folding his hands behind his head, “hiding out somewhere, who knows. Little miss pants-on-fire probably wants to do damage control. Not that there’s anything left for her to control. She’s already been removed from the class chat. She’s done-zo, man.”

Adrien tilted his head. “How do you know she’s here? Did you see her?”

Nino chuckled. “Yeah, on my way in. She kept her head down, didn’t look at anyone. I didn’t approach; she isn’t worth my time. Marinette, for what it’s worth, I’m super sorry, too. I should’ve believed you. If there’s anything I can do to make it up, let me know, yeah?”

Marinette smiled, her cheeks gently pink, and she nodded.

“From now on,” Alya said, resting her head on Marinette’s shoulder, “I listen to you. Not some fake bitch with a fake life, girl. And you’re totally allowed to be mad at me, I was a horrible friend.”

The next ten or so minutes was full of apologies from classmates as they arrived, sans Chloé, who, of course, loudly claimed she knew Lila was lying the entire time, a declaration that convinced no one, earning a chorus of exasperated groans. Rose, contrastingly, burst into tears, with not even Marinette’s repeated assurances that she was forgiven providing any comfort. She finally stopped wailing after Juleka peppered her face with kisses, her hiccuping sobs turning into delighted giggles.

It was when Lila Rossi herself entered the classroom that everyone went silent.

Adrien’s eyes passed across his classmates, taking in the downright venomous looks they were giving Lila, but none of those held a candle to Alya. The expression on her face was something Adrien could only describe as apocalyptic fury, her eyes blazing behind her spectacles, her lip curled back to reveal her teeth in a menacing snarl. She probably would have already pounced on Lila if Nino wasn’t physically holding her back from doing so.

“You have some nerve—“ Alya started, but Nino clapped a hand over her mouth, much to her fury.

Lila barely acknowledged the other girl’s anger, her face a perfect mask of impassive and casual, a polite smile glued to her lips. She seemed completely nonplussed by the eyes on her, infuriatingly nonchalant, and if Alya was kept back any longer, Adrien was pretty sure she was going to start foaming at the mouth.

“Oh, Marinette,” Lila said, as though she’d just remembered something while she placed her things down at her desk, “can we talk? It’s nothing big, I promise.”

Marinette shrank in on herself, halfway hiding behind Adrien where he stood beside her.

Softly, and low enough that nobody else could hear, Adrian leaned over to her, just a little, to speak into her ear.

“Say yes,” he whispered, “don’t worry, I’ve got a plan. I’ll be right there with you.”

Marinette looked like she was about to bust into a million pieces, her face the color of a boiled lobster, but she nodded, straightening back up to her full height. A mask of calm slipped over her face, all the worry and fear previously in her expression melting away as if it was never there at all. She was suddenly the picture of confidence, and as Adrien studied her, he realized that this somehow seemed…

Familiar.

“Okay,” Marinette said, her voice even and calm, “I’ll bite. The locker room, in say, five minutes?”

Lila giggled, and something passed behind her eyes, something that made shivers rake down Adrien’s spine. But, just as quick as it appeared, it was gone. Adrien swallowed the swell of unease that caught in his throat, keeping his face blank.

“Sure,” Lila said, pleasant as ever, “Locker room. It’s a date.”

And with that, she turned on her heel, disappearing through the classroom door.

“I have a plan,” Adrien said, after a few seconds of tense silence had passed.

Alya yanked Nino’s hand away from her face. “If that plan involves strangling her, I’m all in.”

“No,” Adrien said, “but it does involve dealing the final blow, if you’re interested in that.”

Alya smirked. “Since when have you been so devious, Agreste?”

“Since someone started bullying my friend.”

And since the high road didn’t work, I’m fighting dirty.

Alya seemed to approve of this. “Okay, okay. Now, what’s the plan?”

The plan was simple. And it all started with Marinette.

Adrien walked alongside her down the hallway, his hand resting on the small of her back to try and soothe her unease, but that only seemed to make her more tense. The mask of confidence hadn’t slipped, but he could tell she wasn’t looking forward to confronting Lila, even with a friend alongside her.

Marinette stepped into the locker room before Adrien did, and the second she did, Adrien heard a heavy thud, and then a gasp of pain.

He’d never burst a door open so quickly in his life.

There was Lila, her face so different from what she usually looked like that she was almost unrecognizable. There was no hint of her usual kindness or soft, silly humor, or the ever present sparkle of sly mischief only visible to those who really looked. Her lips were curled back an a cold, unfriendly sneer, with teeth bared like she was a predator who had caught its prey. And her eyes…

There was nothing behind those eyes.

And that was what scared Adrien the most. Because now, though some small part of him suspected it before, he knew that Lila felt absolutely nothing for the people she hurt. She didn’t do this because she wanted people to like her. She didn’t do this for any conceivable reason that any regular pathological liar would; because she couldn’t help it. Lila Rossi lied because she could, for her own personal gain and for the pleasure she got from doing so. She was a master manipulator. This was a game to her, and she hated to lose.

She simply found joy in tormenting those who kept her from getting what she wanted.

And Adrien thought Hawkmoth was a monster. Lila Rossi didn’t need superpowers for that.

Lila’s fist was clenched at her side, the other drawn back, but then there was Marinette, sitting on her knees and clutching her cheek, and Adrien knew what she’d just done, what line Lila had crossed, and he didn’t even know if it was the first time she’d done so. With a rage he’d never experienced before, Adrien stalked forward to stand in front of Marinette, using his superior height to tower over Lila, staring down his nose at her, his disgust crystal clear on his face.

The emptiness in Lila’s eyes was rapidly replaced with false shock, then fear, and betrayal, and Adrien had no idea how she was so good at pretending to feel after she’d just struck someone in the face with a closed fist, after she had spent her entire time in France making false friendships and hurting everyone she spoke to. He wondered with bitter bemusement what ludicrous lie she was going to use, what she could possibly say in order to get out of this situation.

Adrien expected her to lie. He didn’t expect her to launch herself into his arms, crocodile tears tracing her cheeks, with false, hiccuping sobs shaking her narrow shoulders. He didn’t expect her to cling onto him like he was her saving grace, her manicured nails digging into his skin through his shirt as she held onto him with a vice grip.

“Oh, Adrien,” she wailed, her voice full of sorrow, “Marinette hit me, she just hauled off and hit me! I just needed some help with—”

Everything slowed down. Adrien had been nice to this girl. He’d been good to her, given her the benefit of the doubt, tried to give her every chance in the world for a shred of retribution, to try and prove that she was better than this, that she could be happy without building herself a fragile, falsified house of cards. He tried. And she went and hurt the people he cared about.

Adrien was done. He was done being nice. He was done letting her stoke him like he was an animal in a petting zoo whenever she felt like it, putting her hands where they were very much not welcome, and he was done being polite about refusing her advances, or chucking awkwardly as he pushed her hands away from his body, only to be forced to endure again, and again, and again.

You know what they say about a house of cards. All it takes is a single push to make it all fall down. This was Adrien’s push.

“That’s enough, Lila,” he said, with no hint of malice in his voice, “you can stop now.”

She looked up at him with watery eyes, her face the perfect imitation of someone who was so utterly betrayed, but Adrien was not buying it. He knew what she really looked like now.

“S-stop?” She hiccuped, “stop what? Adrien, please, Marinette, she’s been bullying me since I got here, I know she hates me, and she set you up last night, right? She put you up to all that— that stupidity. Just tell me that’s what happened, and I’ll forgive you, Adrien.”

Adrien shook his head, face still calm. “No, Lila. That isn’t what happened. You know that.”

Her eyes grew frantic. “Y-yes, yes it is! She put you up to that, and you didn’t mean it.”

“Lila. Listen to me—”

“YOU DIDN’T MEAN IT.”

Adrien knew exactly what she was doing. She was seriously, after he knew every single breath she took was a lie, trying to gaslight him. Had she done this to Marinette? The mere thought of it made his anger swell to dangerous levels.

“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you? You wouldn’t want to hurt me.”

Guilt tripping, gaslighting, what else was she going to try? Adrien may as well have been a statue, his expression just as stony as one. His eyes remained fixed on her face, unimpressed, the only indication that he was even listening to her being his eyebrows as they rose into his hairline.

“Lila, stop,” he said, finally, gently pushing her off of him, “that’s enough. No more games. No more nothing. Nobody slandered you, either. Nobody told the entire student body that you were best friends with Ladybug, or that you saved Jagged Stone’s cat, or that you got an expensive necklace from the prince of Achu. You did. All I did, all anyone did, was believe you.”

Lila blinked back her false tears, still trying to sell the wounded victim act, but the only thing it accomplished was making Adrien angrier.

“Just tell me you didn’t mean it,” she whimpered, as if she hadn’t heard what Adrien had just said, “you didn’t mean to force me to be on that livestream. You didn’t, right?”

Adrien started at her, perplexed and mildly amused. “Lila, I didn’t put you on livestream. Jagged Stone did. I didn’t tell him to do that. I don’t control him. You got yourself into this mess by lying, I did not do this to you. Stop looking for people to blame, and take a look in a damn mirror. I’m done with this, I’m done with you.”

He stepped forward, forcing her to take a step back, her tearful expression flickering, but Adrien didn’t care. He was on a roll.

“Because you don’t just lie, Lila. You hurt people. You enjoy hurting people, and that is sick. Something is wrong with you for enjoying tormenting others,” Adrien spat, the temperature of his voice dropping into single digits. “You bullied Marinette because what, she didn’t believe your lies? She saw through you? You felt the need to hurt her, someone sweet, and kind, and just purely good because of a stupid reason like that? Of course you did. To protect your falsified reputation, you took it out on her.”

Lila shook her head rapidly, and Adrien was mildly impressed she was continuing the charade. Her dedication to her act was admirable, even if it was for the wrong reasons.

“No!” She cried, “Adrien, I love you, don’t you know that? I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you. Marinette has been bullying me because she—”

“Save it,” Adrien interjected, “don’t you even try it. If you think I will believe a word you say you’ve got another thing coming. I gave you several chances, because I hate believing that someone is completely bad, and I hoped to God that you weren’t always a horrible liar, that just maybe you could change, but I was wrong. You’re worse than a liar. You’re a bully. And I will not be friends with someone like that, ever.”

Several emotions passed over Lila’s face, and Adrien thought that this might be his first glimpse of what she really felt. He could see the mental gymnastics going at the speed of light behind her eyes as she wiped at her face with the heels of her hands, raising her gaze to meet his once more.

“Does it even matter to you that I just told you I love you?”

Adrien stared at her, and before he could open his mouth to speak, Marinette did it for him.

“Love?” She said, her voice wobbly with emotions, but the scorn interlaced into her tone was almost palpable, “don’t make me laugh, Lila. You don’t lie and manipulate and gaslight someone you love. This is you, seeking control. Because that’s what you want, right? You don’t want love, you want someone you can break down into whatever you want, someone you can own. That isn’t love.”

“Don’t listen to her, Adrien!” Lila sobbed, “I do, love you, I do! You know I do. I love you more than anything.”

Adrien shook his head, his lips pressed together in a firm line. “No. Marinette’s right. This isn’t love, Lila. You need to stop. That’s enough.”

The tears stopped. It was so abrupt it was like someone had flipped a switch, and Lila stood terrifyingly still for a handful of seconds before a new emotion overtook her face.

Rage.

In a flash, she was on Marinette again, screaming profanities and insults, and Adrien rushed forward, past caring about being gentle as he yanked her off of his friend. She was fast, though, as she was suddenly on him, shoving him into the lockers, his back hitting the one of the metal handles with a painful clang that would undoubtedly leave a nasty bruise. Lila’s face was a twisted, feral grimace, her eyes swirling with selfish rage, her breath expelling out from between her grit teeth in seething bursts.

“Fine,” she snarled, “I lied. Yeah, maybe I do like fucking with idiots like Marinette. People like her, with those big, stupid soft hearts, it’s the most fun to watch them crack. To watch them fall into despair, wondering ‘why me’ when there isn’t any reason other than I felt like it. Everyone worships me. I tell those stupid sycophants what they want to hear to get things to go my way. Is it so wrong to want to be in control?”

Lila was unrecognizable, her eyes a horrifying concoction of mania and malice, her mouth split open into a wide, wolfish grin. Her hands were wrapped around Adrien’s upper arms, her nails cutting through his shirt painfully, and she leaned in until her nose was nearly pressed to his.

“Liar Lila, that’s what you wanted to hear, right?” She sneered, “well, I can lie some more. I can ruin you, Adrien Agreste. You’re going to regret siding with her. Watch me tell the principal, the police, that you and that bitch jumped me, a poor, defenseless girl. Watch me tell ruin your spotless reputation, watch me say you touched me. They’ll believe me. I know they will. Because if they don’t, they’re blaming the victim. I hope you liked school, Adrien, or having friends, or fans, or respect. You and Marinette deserve each other. You can be pariahs together.”

Adrien remained unfazed, despite the severity of her threats. In fact, he smiled. And as his grin grew wider, as did the confusion on Lila’s face.

“Why the fuck are you—”

“Alya,” Adrien said, “now’s good.”

The shutter of a camera went off like a gunshot, and Lila’s eyes went wide with horror as she jolted back and away from Adrien like he’d burned her.

“Nah,” Alya said as she finally, finally stepped into the room, “that’s it for you, miss pants-on-fire.”

Adrien watched Alya’s eyes roll as Lila’s eyes welled up with tears again.

“Alya!” She cried, “I was just defending—”

Alya rolled her neck, then her shoulders as she stepped forward, phone in her hand, undoubtedly recording.

“You,” Alya said, her voice dripping with tranquil fury, “can shut the hell up.”

“You don’t understand, Marinette isn’t your friend, she lied to you, I—”

Alya moved more quickly than Adrien had ever seen her move, shoving her phone into her pocket, the blink of the red light telling Adrien the phone was still recording audio.

“Oh my God, Lila, shut up,” Alya spat, her voice saturated with venom. “Didn’t I just tell you to shut up? You what? You lied? You bullied my best friend? Don’t you dare talk to me about Marinette, you two-faced, back stabbing cockroach. I thought we were friends. I can’t believe I ever thought a single word out of your filthy mouth was the truth. You played me and the entire fucking class for a fool, and you will regret that.”

The visage of a helpless, tormented girl drained from Lila’s face in an instant, replaced with her sneer, and she squared her shoulders, stepping towards Alya.

“Regret what? Your friend made herself an easy target. And she’s already so sensitive that—”

Alya did something Adrien was expecting her to do, but it still surprised him nonetheless: she hauled back, and in a flash, she slapped Lila across the face. The impact of the strike sent Lila stumbling back, her eyes wide as her hand rose to cup her cheek. She was stunned to silence, both from the slap and from the terrifying fury rolling off of Alya in crashing waves. Her face had given way to bug-eyed shock, her jaw slack, opposite arm limp by her side. If Adrien didn’t know any better, he’d think that this had never happened to Lila before: she’d never had to face the ramifications of her actions. And Hell hath no fury like an Alya scorned.

“I am talking,” Alya snarled, “mouth closed, attention please.”

Helpless, Lila nodded.

“Like, seriously?” Alya said, waving her hands around in indignation, “and I thought Chloé was bad, but she looks like a fucking humanitarian compared to you. I can’t believe I ever put you on my blog in a positive light. I hope you know that this recording is going to every goddamn person in school. Hell, maybe I’ll post it to the school website, maybe my blog. You know what, I think I’ll do just that. Maybe even Adrien’s fan page. I’ve sure the people over there would love to hear you threatening him. And don’t even think of speaking a single word unless it’s an apology to Marinette. Everyone has had enough of you.”

At last, Adrien saw the first genuine flicker of fear in Lila’s eyes. She backed up further, roles swapped drastically from predator to trapped prey as Alya stalked towards her like she was about to devour her whole, and if she wasn’t stopped, she probably would. But Adrien wasn’t going to stop her.

“Apologize,” Alya said, no, ordered, “by tonight. I’ll have Max add you back to the class chat, just for a little bit. Own up to all your shit, apologize to Marinette, tell everyone what you did, or I will do it for you. And if you ever touch another hair on Marinette’s head ever again, you know you’ll have me to worry about. Now get out of my sight.”

Lila stood still. Her eyes were wide with shock, her jaw clenching and unclenching as she her gaze passed from Alya, to Marinette, then finally landing on Adrien. He stared back at her, expression frosty. She would get no more help, no more second chances from him. Genuine, defeated tears welled up in her eyes, no more of the play acting dramatics to be found as she swallowed back a sob. Without another word, Lila turned, keeping her head down, and ran out of the room.

Silence. It was quiet enough in the locker room to hear a pin drop, interrupted only by the rhythmic sound of Alya’s labored breathing as she tried and failed to calm down. Adrien turned to face her, and watched as tears of her own beaded at her lash line, reappearing even as she blinked them back. She wiped her face furiously before reaching down to end the recording on her phone. In a few taps, Adrien’s phone buzzed, undoubtedly with the audio recording that had just been taken.

“Adrien,” Alya said, “thank you.”

Adrien looked back at her, puzzled. “What for?”

“Sticking up for her, dumbass. Sorry I called you a dumbass,” Alya sniffled. “I mean, thank you for seeing through Lila’s tricks, for supporting Marinette when I—”

Alya bit back another sob, and Adrien wanted to step forward, to try and offer some form of comfort, but she held her hand up.

“I’m not the important one, here,” Alya said, “Marinette is.”

Adrien turned towards where Marinette was sitting, still on her knees, her arms wrapped around herself. Her left cheek was red, undoubtedly in the early stages of a forming bruise. Tears were welling up in her eyes, too, but she wasn’t bothering to brush them away, letting them spill down her cheeks in soundless cries, but Adrien could tell that among the cacophony of stentorian emotions that were thundering in her head, that one in particular was present beyond a shadow of a doubt: relief.

Kneeling beside her and pulling her forwards and into his arms felt as natural as breathing, and the second he was touching her, it was like a dam broke. It was like everything was hitting her at once, with soft, sniffling sobs spilling out as she finally just let it hurt. She pulled Adrien closer to her, burying her head in the crook off his neck, a spot where it fit like it was always meant to be.

“You’re okay, now,” Adrien whispered, and she clung to him more tightly, “she can’t hurt you again. I won’t let her.”

Marinette let out a gasping sob as her fingers curled into the cloth of Adrien’s shirt, just to hold onto something, and he let her, rubbing soothing circles into the small of her back with one hand as his opposite arm wrapped securely around her shoulders, holding her close.

Adrien smiled when he felt Alya move in, wrapping her arms around the both of them, pressing a soft, affectionate kiss to the crown of Marinette’s head, whispering her apologies and promises to do better into the midnight of her hair, and Marinette lifted her chin, leaning up to press her forehead against her best friend’s.

Alya quietly excused herself after that, undoubtedly to upload the audio recording she’d just taken to every social media platform she had an account with, leaving Marinette with Adrien as he continued to whisper words of comfort. She cried for a long time, and Adrien’s heart hurt for her. He knew what it felt like to be alone, to be helpless. Marinette didn’t deserve to feel that way, nobody did.

He wondered if Ladybug ever felt this way. She was always so strong and confident. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her cry, not that any part of Marinette was weak for crying, it was human to cry. Even if Adrien had never seen Ladybug cry, he knew she probably did. It made his heart, his entire soul ache, just the thought of his lady being sad or lonely. The thoughts of her and the beautiful girl in his arms blurred together, and, without even thinking, the words just… slipped out.

“It’s gonna be okay, bugaboo.”

Adrien hadn’t even realized he’d said anything until a few seconds had passed, and Marinette was staring up at him with wide, shocked, teary eyes, an odd mix of recognition and utter befuddlement intertwining behind her bluebell hues.

“You—” She sniffled, “you called me— You called me ‘bugaboo.’”

For all of Adrien’s eloquence, manners, and high society etiquette, he had no idea what to say to that.

He stared back at her like a deer in the headlights, his eyes wide and terrified because he was truly fucked. He’d slipped up, and there was no Ladybug to put things back the way they were, nobody to backpedal and make Marinette forget that he’d just Freudian slipped while she was crying in his arms and he was trying to be comforting— Oh God, Plagg was going to tease him about this for the rest of time.

“I—” Adrien floundered, “j-just uh, forget—”

“N-no,” Marinette said, suddenly panicking, more tears welling up, “no, no that can’t be right, nobody calls me that— I mean nobody calls me that— Unless— Except…”

Adrien had no idea what she thought she knew, or what she was even talking about, but he watched as realization rapidly dawned on her, realization that was completely lost on him.

Her voice was thick with emotion when she finally spoke, a watery smile spreading across her lips, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“I thought,” she said, her voice adopting a laughing edge, despite her tears, “I told you not to call me that.”

Adrien stared back at her blankly. What did she—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

There it was.

It was hitting him like a big semi truck, knocking him flat on his back like a fifty foot tidal wave.

Because it was so fucking obvious.

All those times Marinette seemed to pop up just after Ladybug vanished, how she seemed to know things only Marinette knew, why she got so bent out of shape when Lila claimed that Ladybug was her best friend. Or why Adrien always had a particular fondness for the constellations of freckles on Marinette’s face, just as he did with Ladybug’s. Why Ladybug always adopted Marinette’s stammer when she spoke to him in his civilian form.

It all made sense. All of Plagg’s weird double entendres, all of the winking and nudging his Kwami did when regarding both Ladybug and Marinette.

The confidence she wore like a second skin, her grace and poise and sass that Adrien always told himself was just a coincidence because he saw Ladybug in everything. The way Marinette’s smile reminded him of the same heaven that Ladybug’s did, and again, it had to be a coincidence, because it had to be another cruel trick of Adrien’s chronic bad luck if his lady was here, right in front of him, all along.

Marinette. Marinette. Marinette.

Tears of his own welled up in Adrien’s eyes as he stared at her, awestruck and punch drunk in love as he raised a palm to cup her face, so gingerly, like she was made of glass and precious jewels.

“You,” he whispered, voice drawn taut with emotion, “you. You’re my lady.”

Marinette’s eyes darted away, even though she leaned into his touch, betraying her own hesitance.

“A-are you disappointed it’s me?”

Adrien laughed. He didn’t mean to, but the notion that Marinette Dupain-Cheng could ever be in the same sentence with the word ‘disappointing’ was laughable. Among all of Adrien’s firm admissions that Marinette was just a friend, he saw her as a cut above the rest. Nino was his friend. Marinette was Marinette. She was talented, beautiful, and kinder than anyone he’d ever met in his life. Internally, he’d been struggling for his slowly growing feelings for her, alongside the ones he had for Ladybug for so long he’d grown tired of trying to suppress them.

Being disappointed it was her was absolutely laughable.

“Disappointed?” Adrien parroted, “God, no. No, Marinette, I’m glad it’s you. There’s nobody else I’d rather have as my lady. I’ve loved you since— Since the moment I laid eyes on you. Every waking moment has been thoughts of you, but I understand you’re in love with another boy. I value you as my friend before all of that, I’d rather you be happy and remain in my life than force my feelings on you. It’s Luka, isn’t it? He’s a great guy, and—”

It was Marinette’s turn to laugh, and Adrien blinked at her, almost owlishly.

“Silly, oblivious kitty. So dense.”

Adrien stared, affronted. “Me-ouch.”

“It’s you.” She said, blinking back tears, “Adrien, the boy I love, the one I kept rejecting you for, is you. I’ve been crazy, insane, stupid for you ever since that thing with the umbrella, the day we met. I love you so much that all I think about is you, all I want is you. I’ve tried dating, and sure Luka is wonderful. But he wasn’t you, and as much as I care about Luka, it just doesn’t feel right. I’ve wanted you since day one, Adrien Agreste.”

It took Adrien’s brain a few seconds to catch up with her words, because things like this didn’t happen to him. He was waiting for her to laugh her signature nervous Marinette laugh, speedily telling him she was joking, or for his alarm clock to wake him up, or for anything at all to interrupt this, but he blinked, squeezing his eyes shut once, twice, and his lady remained, enfolded in his arms, those incredible eyes still fixed on his face, a soft, painfully endearing smile playing at her lips.

This was real. She was real.

“I—” Adrien gasped, at a loss for words, “I— you—”

“Yeah,” Marinette giggled, tearfully, “I love you, too, you stupid cat.”

In that moment, after everything Adrien had been through, it all felt like nothing at all, no more than fleeting moments, because here she was, in his arms, telling him what he’d wanted to hear for two years, telling him she loved him just as much, just as fiercely as he loved her. All this time, they’d been chasing each other’s shadows, so desperately smitten with one another that nobody could hold even half a candle.

Adrien made a sound that was an odd mix of a laugh and a sob as he pulled her achingly tight against him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck, reveling in the way she fit against him like she was made to, how soft her skin was, how she smelled like sweet sugar and freshly baked dough. She was perfect to him, with all her flaws and misgivings, they were and always had been something he could more than happily live with, as Ladybug or as Marinette.

“Please,” Adrien whispered into her hair, “can I kiss you, Marinette?”

Marinette stiffened, her face luminescent. “If want to— I mean, if you don’t— I mean—”

Adrien chuckled warmly, his heart seizing in his chest. “Never change, Marinette.”

One of his hands slid down her cheek to find her chin, tilting her face up, and he watched her eyes flutter closed as he leaned in, slowly, finally meeting her lips with his own. It was like everything he’d ever held back was spilling out, a symphony of emotion and sensation and pure, perfect adoration. One of Adrien’s hands slid down to lace into the wisps of hair at the base of her skull, the other cupping her cheek, his thumb smoothing over the gentle curve of her cheekbone, and he could feel her in his blood, thundering through his heart, consuming him whole.

Adrien angled his head to deepen the kiss, pulling back just slightly only to dive back in, kissing her with everything he had, and she was giving back just as much, clinging onto him, her fingers in his hair, and her touch felt like perfection incarnate, like everything he’d ever been missing.

They pulled apart only with great reluctance, resting their foreheads together, blissfully happy and oh so in love.

“Hey, Miss Busiter is looking for—”

Alya’s voice tore them from their focus on one another, but they didn’t separate, even as Alya stared at them with wide eyes, a slow, bordering on manic grin appearing on her face.

“Oh, my God,” she hollered, “it is about damn time.”

Marinette floundered in a way that Adrien could now call utterly adorable without forcing the word platonic down his own throat, making him smile like a total dope, pulling her tighter.

“A-Alya!” She cried, wiping her remaining tears with the back of her hand, “I— we were just—”

“She knows what we were doing,” Adrien laughed, his smile widening when Alya, characteristically, snapped a photo of them still pressed close together.

Marinette sighed. “Yeah, well, that’s… Gonna take some getting used to. Yeah, Alya, this is exactly what it looks like.”

“As much as I’d love, and I mean love to celebrate,” Alya said, her grin earsplitting, “you two are still students. You can hold hands and cuddle and all that after school. Oh my God, Marinette, we can go on double dates! This is so great! We— We’ll talk about it later.”

Marinette laughed, the first truly genuine laugh Adrien had heard from her in weeks, and it made his heart do a funny, jumpy thing in his chest, his stomach twisting into knots. He should have realized who she was earlier from her laugh alone. Unable to bear to let go of her, Adrien kept their hands intertwined as they stood up from the floor, legs stiff from sitting for so long, but they hardly cared about that, not now.

Because everything, every bit of pain was worth it, if it meant being with her. And from the dreamy, adorably dorky way she was staring at him, Adrien was absolutely positive she felt the same.

The classroom erupted into cheers when Adrien and Marinette entered with their hands joined, their proximity far too close to be any kind of platonic, and during break, when Marinette finally asked Adrien to a movie without putting her foot in her mouth, Alya clapped her on the back so hard she went toppling forwards.

But that was fine. Adrien was there to help her up.

They got that double date, Nino and Alya dragging them to some cheesy horror flick that ended up being more funny than scary, and even when Marinette did get spooked at the odd spooky scene, Adrien was there to smooth his thumb over her knuckles. He was there for her. And if Lila came back, as she absolutely would, Adrien would be there, too. She was far from done, and Adrien knew that. He’d done enough damage to send her off for a good while to lick her wounds, but he knew there was only a matter of time before she popped back up like a particularly contagious chest cold. Only this time, they’d be ready.

And Adrien would never let her hurt his lady ever again. That was a promise. So was the absolute pure, sparkling elation they both felt as Adrien walked Marinette home, hand in hand, the setting sun on their backs, blissfully happy.

Adrien Agreste was walking on sunshine all the way home.

[annisrealandsoami]

Gemma would be the gender bent version of Gerald Keay’s name, and I can tell you why: because I said so.

Also she could Em for her friends.

Plus I accidentally got into an argument about it and I’ll be damned if I don’t use it.

[nerdpoe]

Jason agrees to go through the legal hassle of being declared alive again. Mostly so he can go to college like how he wanted.

He would have done it under a fake ID, but he kinda wanted the success of having a Masters in English attached to the name he grew up with.

It's going pretty great, actually! He's making friends, gets to punch random paparazzi's in the face, and learning has always been fun for him.

But one of his college friends, Danny Fenton, is...weirdly obsessed with Wayne Manor?

Jason gets it, he does, the Manor is huge and of course the guy would want to see it as often as he could.

Then he starts to realize that Danny is strangely attentive to Bruce.

Like, actually flirting with Bruce.

Oh no his college friend, who is his age, is flirting with Bruce so hard it's making Bruce blush.

OR; Danny thinks Bruce is hot, and that the outraged faces of the man's children as Danny flirts with him are hilarious. Also Jason started it by trying to flirt with Danny's mom when he met Danny.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

it is. so weird to me that I'm having to say this again after a real-life cartoon supervillian already once ran for president on a platform of hatred & fascism and won, but.

it's November, please fucking vote

[chaiaurchaandni]

<333

[lyriumsings]

it’s so funny seeing people who are supposed to be part of the lgbt+ community circle the drain on “astarion is too gay to be bisexual/pan” like how do you identify the way you do and then put this character in a generic box because “well he acts gay” like elaborate on that. tell me more what that means. and then go on and on about how terrible the Straights are for doing the exact same thing you’re doing lmao like it’s genuinely mind boggling. they’re not “player sexual” that’s not a fucking thing. they’re all bi or pan none of them are gay. none are lesbians. they are bi and pan and valid and you can die mad about it.

[zetadraconis11]

HL Incorrect Quote #100

*in the Room of Requirement*

MC, bursting in: I finally did it!

Sebastian from the sofa: Did what?

MC, holding up the Field Guide: I finally found all the pages!

Natty, looking up from her book: THAT'S why you've been casting Revelio everywhere?

MC: Yep! And not only that, but I also found all of those Demiguise statues!

Poppy, while petting Highwing: ...is that why you've been taking cat naps all around Hogwarts?

MC: Yep.

Ominis, from a lounge chair: For the record, sleeping on the floors of Hogwarts are not as bad as you would think.

MC: Oh, and I found ALL of the Astronomy tables!

Amit, by a telescope: You did?! I hope it wasn't too dangerous...

MC: Nonsense! I've dealt with a whole lot worse than some mongrels and spiders. This was a piece of cake.

The group:

MC: And don't get me started on those bloody Merlin trials... But I did all 95 of them!

Sebastian, horrified: 95???

MC: Yes! It was not worth the pints of coffee and tea I downed, but I have done it all!

The group:

MC: I need to sleep. *keels over onto lounge*

The group:

Ominis: The more I hear about what MC does, the more concerned I get.

[sticksandsharks]

HI WILDERCOURT RELEASE/SALE WHEN???? YOUR ILLUSTRATIONS ARE INCREDIBLE I CAN'T WAIT TO GET A COPY

I'm really thrilled that people are looking forward to The Wildercourt! It means so much!

Unfortunately the story is big and I am kinda slow at drawing. :'{

[sunderwight]

Thinking about a bingqiu Dreamling AU where Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua are both bored deities, just sort of taking a brief sojourn through the mortal world to shoot the shit and see some interesting monster or other that Shen Yuan has heard about, when they come across a tea house and decide to take a break and do some people-watching instead.

Shen Yuan is well into something of a shut-in phase, which Shang Qinghua doesn't like, mostly because when Shen Yuan is in those phases he doesn't do particularly well either. Shen Yuan's a social butterfly, for however little he cares to actually acknowledge it about himself, and his critique of Shang Qinghua's literary masterpieces gets so much harsher when he's not getting enough enrichment.

So when they overhear one of the kitchen boys solemnly insisting that he is going to do everything in his power to never die, and Shen Yuan laments that the boy would probably regret such a wish if it came true, Shang Qinghua decides to bestow a rare bit of godly power onto this mortal and grant his wish.

He doesn't make him a god, of course, that wouldn't even be in his ability. At least, not without using up more time and effort than he's prepared to expend on this one random kid. But immortality on its own is not that difficult. The boy will still finish growing up, and will still be able to be harmed, to know hunger and pain and illness. It just won't ever kill him.

Shen Yuan sighs that it's a cruel thing to do to a mortal, especially one with such low odds of ever cultivating other skills to mitigate the potential torment of it all. But Shang Qinghua just shrugs and they place bets, that this boy will ask for the immortality to be revoked in a hundred years, or two hundred, or so on, or else he won't. Shen Qingqiu approaches the kitchen boy and flusters and bewilders him by telling him to meet him back here again in a hundred years time.

A hundred years later, the tea house is larger. The boy has grown to be a striking young man, who looks at Shen Yuan with wariness and something else, something almost like awe, as he asks what manner of creature he's made this bargain with. Shen Yuan assures him that he has no nefarious intentions, and instead asks Luo Binghe how the past century of his life has gone.

Horribly, at least at first. Binghe's mother had already died by the time they met, but afterwards he managed to earn enough money to travel to a nearby sect. Working in the tea house's kitchen was just a minor stopover along the way. Shen Yuan was wrong, it seems, about his odds of becoming a cultivator -- Luo Binghe earned entry as a disciple.

Yet, he had no success. The master who took him on was unaccountably cruel and mercurial, and Luo Binghe's attempts to cultivate failed. Looking back he sees now that there were many times when he should have died but didn't, but when it was all happening he just thought himself lucky. At least until an enemy sect attacked a cultivation conference, and he suffered mortal wounds that absolutely should have killed him (or anyone) but still didn't die. (No demon race or abyss in this AU, but there are still demonic and fantastical creatures.)

His cruel master, upon witnessing this, accused him of heretical practices and tried to kill him as well by flinging him off the edge of a gorge. The fall was terrible. Binghe lay at the bottom in a horrifying state, injured beyond reason and yet, still, he didn't die. Eventually his body recovered enough for him to drag himself out, and once he did the only thing on his mind was getting revenge. For the next several decades he managed to ingratiate himself to all manner of potential allies, forging alliances, accumulating blackmail, and convincing people that he had to be some powerful cultivator through his supernatural resilience, lack of visible aging, and a lot of bluffing. He got revenge on his old teacher, drove his first sect into ruin, and rose to prominence as a feared and respected leader of the cultivation world.

Shen Yuan listens with clear interest, asking plenty of questions and seemingly quite taken up with the story. At the conclusion, Luo Binghe admits that his actual cultivation is still mostly a matter of smoke and mirrors, and wonders if -- now that the hundred years have passed -- Shen Yuan means to strip his immortality from him.

Shen Yuan asks if Luo Binghe wants that. When Luo Binghe says no, he accepts the answer, and tells him to meet him back here again in another hundred years. Luo Binghe calls after him, but before he can ask anything more, Shen Yuan has disappeared again.

A hundred years later, Binghe arrives back at the tea house with an entourage befitting of an emperor. The tea house has also expanded. Luo Binghe orders a lavish feast from them, which everyone hastens to provide. He's spent the past several decades consolidating his power, forging alliances with key political players via several marriages, producing heirs, and crushing his enemies. As he brags about the state of his massive harem to Shen Yuan, the deity's eyes begin to glaze over. He doesn't seem impressed. He also doesn't seem to care much for the food, and eventually his attention is stolen away by a conversation at another table. The diners are discussing the exploits of a promising new poet and novelist. Try as he might, Luo Binghe fails to regain Shen Yuan's attention before the evening is done. Shen Yuan doesn't think it's a big deal -- after all, if Binghe is still riding on top of the world, he's probably not going to want his immortality gift revoked just yet!

Another hundred years go by. The tea house has returned to a more modest situation, the next time Shen Yuan sets foot in it. He waits an unusually long while for his guest to arrive, and when he does, he's almost stopped at the door by the tea house's servers. It's only when Shen Yuan bids them let him through that Luo Binghe is able to come to the table, almost collapsing against it and desperately falling onto the arrangement of snacks with obvious hunger.

Shen Yuan wonders if this, now, will be when the boy (no longer a boy) asks for the immortality to be revoked. Surprisingly, he finds himself resistant to the idea, even though it's also clear that the game has run too long. Maybe hundred year check-ins were too short? He doesn't like the implications of what's gone on, even if he's not really surprised about it either.

Between desperate mouthfuls of food, Luo Binghe explains that without mastering inedia, going hungry but never dying is a deeply unpleasant experience. Shen Yuan orders more food. Once Binghe has finally eaten his fill, he begins, haltingly, to explain his situation. His clothes are ragged, he is painfully thin, and his gaze is haunted.

Apparently, several of his wives conspired to assassinate him, despite his reputation as unkillable. Realizing that most poisons and such didn't kill him, but that he could still be incapacitated, they hatched a scheme to dose his food with a powerful sleeping agent, and then walled him up in a famous ancestral tomb. They went to great length to ensure that it was impossible to escape from. It took Binghe decades to do it anyway, digging away at the floors, and when he got out he found that his power base had collapsed. In-fighting and the incursion of his enemies had led to the deaths of all of his children, and what wives had survived had either fled or remarried. Not that he particularly wanted them back at that point, since the ones actually most loyal to him had also been killed early on after his own "death". His face marked him, to the eyes of his enemy, as a surviving descendant of himself. He was hunted down, chased across the continent and back again, until he managed to fall into enough obscurity that his pursuers abandoned the chase. Except that he has nothing, and any time he tries to regain something, he runs the risk of being hounded again. Those who might see some potential in him still remember the collapse of his recent "dynasty" and slam doors in his face, or else try and turn him over to those now in power in pursuit of a reward. Those who don't know that much see only a dirty beggar, and usually run him off on that basis instead.

Shen Yuan, almost hesitant, asks if Luo Binghe would like to have his immortality revoked.

Luo Binghe declines. How will he be able to take revenge on those who wronged him if he is dead? He has a hit list a mile long by now.

Which is definitely not the most noble of reasons to persist, but Shen Yuan finds himself reluctant to ask twice. Instead he orders more food, and then even reserves one of the traveler's rooms above the tea house for several days. By then the sky is turning grey, and Luo Binghe is losing his apparent battle with exhaustion. Shen Yuan presses the key into his hand, thinking it's probably not enough, but there are limits to how much gods are supposed to interfere and Shang Qinghua already stretched them to the breaking point with this entire scenario.

He leaves, not seeing the hand that reaches after him just before he is out of the door and gone.

Another hundred years pass. This time, Shen Yuan arrives to find Luo Binghe already waiting for him. He isn't surprised to see that Binghe's situation has visibly improved -- maybe he was keeping closer tabs on him, just a little bit, for this past while. If only to be sure he wouldn't have to warn the tea house workers to expect an unorthodox visitor again! But no, Binghe has been doing well enough for himself. No more harems or thrones, though. He dresses more like a well-off merchant now, deliberately posing as his own mortal descendant rather than as a great immortal cultivator. The food at the table looks far more delicious than usual too (Binghe commandeered the tea house's kitchen himself this time). As they chat, Shen Yuan is regaled with the exploits of Luo Binghe's travels and adventures, how even though he initially set out to claim revenge on those who overthrew him, by the time he was in a position to actually do so they had already died of the usual causes (time, illness, their own schemes backfiring, etc). Subsequently, only their children and grandchildren were left with the scraps of power they had obtained, and when one of those children employed Luo Binghe as a bodyguard, his initial plan to assassinate them eventually fell by the wayside. After all, the wrongdoings weren't actually theirs. From that point, Binghe was able to restore himself to a more comfortable life, joining his new employer on their travels until he had set aside enough earnings to take his leave before his youthful good-looks earned him suspicion. He then began investing in travel and trade, specifically cargo ships, because never spending too long in the same place or around the same people helped disguise his immortality. He had found that, at least for now, this served him better than playing the part of a cultivator. It also gave him time to try and actually repair his ruined cultivation base somewhat, and fighting pirates proved very diverting.

Binghe is midway through recounting his adventures with a gigantic sea monster, while Shen Yuan hangs on every word, when they're interrupted by the arrival of a brash young mistress, clearly wealthy and trained in cultivation. The young lady declares that there is a rumor that a fallen god and a demon meet in this tea house once a century, that they wield strange powers, etc etc, and she intends to interrogate them both with the assistance of her hired muscle and her own spiritual weapon, and discover the truth of the matter. Then she whips out, well, a whip!

Before Shen Yuan can deal with the matter, Luo Binghe is already on his feet, disarming the goons and breaking a few arms in the process. Shen Yuan is so distracted that he almost misses the whip aimed right for him, but before Binghe can catch the barbed weapon with his bare hand (wtf, Binghe, no) Shen Yuan deflects it with a wave of his fan, and then efficiently knocks the troublesome young lady unconscious. The hired muscle flees, Shen Yuan arranges for their assailant to be placed in a room upstairs until she regains consciousness, and he and Binghe resume their meal and conversation in relative peace.

Even though it's clear that Luo Binghe has not yet reached the end of his tolerance for life, Shen Yuan nevertheless finds himself strangely reluctant to part ways at the end of the night. Still, he does, because that's what is expected of him, gently denying Luo Binghe's suggestions that they find some other establishment to continue their conversation at. He also has to investigate these "rumors" that the young lady mentioned. It's probably nothing (Shang Qinghua has a loose tongue when he's drunk, and a lot of imaginative storytellers have frequented this tea house over the years) but he doesn't like being caught unawares like that. Heavenly politics are... complicated, it's best not to court unwanted attention in any capacity.

Another hundred years go by. This time, when they meet at the tea house, Luo Binghe asks Shen Yuan why he keeps it up. Why did he pick Binghe? What is he really after? When Shen Yuan fails to give any kind of clear answer, Luo Binghe shoots his shot and makes a (very obvious) move on him.

Shen Yuan, flustered, gets up and flees. Ignoring Luo Binghe's calls after him. It just doesn't make any sense! Why would Binghe do that?! He's a man who once had a harem of wives in the triple digits! Clearly he's not gay, so what was that all about? Was he just messing with him?! How dare he! Etc, etc.

Another century passes. Luo Binghe waits at the tea house, which has fallen onto hard times again. With the construction of some new roadways, travelers no longer pass through as often. Binghe listens, worried, to the proprietor's laments that this old place will probably not be around in another hundred years. He listens because he has no one else to speak to, because Shen Yuan has not shown up. Not that morning, not during the day, not come evening, and not now that it is closing time. Binghe nevertheless charms and bribes the proprietor to let him stay even after the place has shuttered.

It seems damning, of course. He pressed too hard and now his mysterious benefactor wants nothing more to do with him. Except, no, he refuses to accept that. He's still immortal. And he has gleaned enough of Shen Yuan's character by now that he thinks that even if he was rejected, he would be let down more clearly and gently than this. The more he thinks about it, the less willing Luo Binghe is to believe that he has been deliberately stood up (also, since the tenor of his confession was different from Hob Gadling's, he never delivered an ultimatum about what it might imply when they met up again).

Over the centuries, Luo Binghe has built up a few contacts with similarly strange and supernatural stories. Cultivators, sure, but also others, fortune tellers and people of strange ancestry, questionable abilities, those who have interacted with powerful beings of mysterious provenance. He makes his way to a certain gambling den, frequented often by such people, and while he flashes around enough money to draw curiosity, he collects information. Shen Yuan wasn't the only person who started paying more attention to the kinds of rumors surrounding the two of them after their confrontation with the young cultivator a couple centuries ago. And in fact, Luo Binghe has been spending many, many years trying to find out more about his mystery man. Though, too many potential deities and immortals fit his description for him to have ever conclusively figured much out.

This is how Binghe gets wind of a rumor that an eccentric occultist has somehow captured a god in his basement...

[pangur-and-grim]

okay I like the long chapter titles too much, they’re gonna stay

[samberrybay]

I saw someone talking about Cale not being innocent with relationships, which i agree with, so wanna also add my personal opinion on this rather interesting matter+a bit on his trauma!

Cale loved reading novels and comics, so he probably read some romance or smut among the way too. As we know, he is a quite curious person, thus i doubt he wouldn't be interested in it at least for a bit.

He also recognizes relationship stuff overall! Like for example in Korean arc with Kim Min Ah and Bae Puh Rum. They weren't a couple yet, however Cale noticed vibes around them so there is also a comment about them looking good together. Even if it was more of a "Ah, they were lovely-dovely since then", it is still a realization.

As a result, if we push back the idea of Cale being aroace, he isn't innocent! Cale knows enough to understand romance, sex, flirting and all that jazz on a basic level.

Here is the thing, right?

When literally anything relared to emotions or relationships, both platonic and romantic, includes HIM in the equations, Cale suddenly becomes a fool.

An obvious, absolutely traumatized and with little to no self-awareness fool.

Cale literally degrades himself and his feelings or emotions on a daily basis, guys, i don't think this depressed man is able to comprehend that people actually just enjoy his sole presence alone.

Again, the problem here not in Cale not realizing/recognizing that kind of stuff (what basically innocence implies), but in Cale not thinking that someone can like him or be into him.

People don't give enough credit to how severe his self-hatred, that was builded for tens of years and supported by hearing others hate him, is.

It absolutely distorted Cale's view of himself.

As Kim Rok Soo? Well, he was always average looking, the scars made him look even worse.

As Cale? Well, he might look better now, but his personality still trash, he is selfish and not emotional overall.

If nothing above works? Well, his self made inner image of a "Bad person" always does!

He wouldn't ever believe that someone can love him romanticly.

Because why? Why him?

He is absolutely disoriented when people show their care for him nowadays. In the novel it plays of as the silly moments of obvious Cale, but if you think about that?

It just Cale honestly not understanding why they care for HIM.

This is not about innocence. Not at all.

It is about a man who cannot love himself and as a result doubting everyone's love for him.

[von-karmas-a-bitch]

[inkskinned]

one of the things about having an unstable parent is that it can so easily ruin your future. you want to get out, but getting out takes having agency. it takes the resume and the grades and the stellar community service history.

but you have to choose your battles. you know if you sign up for an after-school activity, it'll be okay for a while, so long as the activity is parent-approved and god-fearing. over time, like all things, it will become an argument (i can't keep carting your ass to these things) or a weapon (talk to me like that again, see if you get to go to practice). sometimes, if you love the thing, it's worth it. but you also know better than to love something: that's how they get you. if you ever actually want something, it will always be the center of their attention. they will never stop threatening you with it. telling you of course i'm a good parent, i came to all of those stupid events.

you learn to balance yourself perfectly. you can either have a social life or you can have hobbies. both of these things will be under constant scrutiny. you spend too much time with her, you should be at home with family is equally paired with you're acting like this because you're addicted to what's on that goddamn screen. you cannot ever actually win, so everything falls within a barter system that you calculate before entering: do you want to learn how to drive? if so, you'll need to give up asking for a new laptop, even though yours died. maybe you can work on a computer at the library. of course, that would mean you'd be allowed to go to the library, which would mean something else has to bleed. nothing ever actually comes free.

and that bitter, horrible irony: you could be literally following their orders and it still isn't pretty. they tell you to get a job; they hate that your job keeps you late and gives you access to actual money. they tell you to do better in school; they say no child of mine needs a tutor. they want you to stop being so morose, don't you know there are people who are really suffering - but they revile the idea you might actually need therapy.

you didn't survive that fall the way other people would. you've seen other people scramble and get their way out, however they could. maybe you were made too-soft: the answer didn't come to you easily. it wasn't quick. it was brutal and nasty. some people even asked you why didn't you just work hard and escape during school? and you felt your head spinning. why didn't you? (they control your financial aid. they control your loan status. they love having that kind of thing). maybe in another life you got diagnosed sooner and got the meds you needed to actually focus and got attention from the right teachers who helped you clear hurdles to get up out of here - but for now? here?

the effort of trying. the effort of not-dying. that kind of effort was absolutely agonizing.

[ibtisams]

My amazing and generous friend @gorillawithautism organised a donation match fundraiser for this gofundme:

nafti surpassed his matching goal, leaving €318 unmatched and I had extra money this week, so I was able to match the rest!

If you also find yourself having extra money this week I would love to challenge you to match as much of me/nafti’s donation as you can to this gofundme to help this family evacuate Gaza!!!!

[kelocitta]

In honor of the @rw-ship-showdown I wanted to write about Artihunter as someone who jokingly slapped them together pre-downpour and still thinks they are actually very compelling. Just not in the super soft love wins kinda way (Although I get why people like that more) And the only way I know how to do that is talking too much so heres a far too long slug essay-

Obviously the slugcats don't offer a ton of characterization but theres not nothing to work with. Their stories, whether by their roles in it or the overarching themes do provide a backbone to work with. Even gameplay itself can provide a bit. (for some more than others) Hunter, to me, is ultimately a story about selflessness. The goal is to revive Moon, which is very much an act of kindness from both Hunter and NSH. But the weight of that action is much more significant for Hunter- Hunter is deeply sick. They're on the clock, and for all their skill in combat none of that will ultimately help them to survive longer than their body can hold out. Moon is a close friend of NSH but that means little Hunter- Hunter really gets next to nothing out of helping them, and ultimately pays quiet a bit spending their limited time alive fighting to deliver that neuron so that someone else can live.

To spend ones limited days on helping another, in a game that very much stresses the unwavering cruelty of the world and nature- is pretty notable. (And you could even say that Hunter being the Hardmode of Rain World adds another layer to this)

And then we have Artificer. A storyline that very much stands out to people as more… villainous (so to speak) than the other slugcats. Artificer's story covers a lot of things. Trauma, violence, revenge, etc. Revenge is a bit of a selfish desire- That need to see someone hurt as they have hurt you. A punishment that ultimately does not fix whatever harm was done- but feels good to see because you were hurt and now those responsible share that pain.

Artificer's actions are founded in that need for revenge, their pups killed for overstepping boundaries they didn't know existed. Is it not fair for them to be angry at that, to punish the scavengers for their violence with their own? Why should the scavengers ever be forgiven when they and their pups were not? And that's how you get that loop- Harm for harm over and over.

The original action has been lost in a spiral of violence for violence. And here stands Artificer- their very spirit scarred. Not just because they sought revenge, but because they never ceased trying to scratch that itch for violence as an answer. Artificer only has two paths for their story- killing the scavenger king (Someone who, really, has little to do with the original 'crime' of the scavengers, but represents an important individual to them- as did the slugpups to Artificer), locking themselves as karma one for good and spending the rest of their life chasing creatures that no longer even fight back in a warped sense of closure- or to dissolve themselves in the acids of the void sea because they're too far gone to find any real peace.

They can't meaningfully recover from that state, not alone, twisting in on themselves. Even if they halt their actions, they've been using violence as a feeble defense against their own pain- violence that no longer has any real direction or basis. Artificer gets no real closure from killing the scavenger king. All they can do is continue the cycle, or try to scrub it away. No real peace in a prison of their own making. So you have a creature, who even with a strict timer on their life- a body that will crumble to disease, spends its last bit of time on saving another. And another who was so caught up in the pain of loss that were eaten alive by their own anger, poisoned their own soul on such a deep level even self-proclaimed gods have no solution for them. What peace can they offer each other? For Hunter, its only a fleeting moment of happiness- of selfish love, before their own body fails them. A bit of indulgence in something for themself. For Artificer, its a single, comforting thread to ground them again, something tangible to protect and care about again. But thats a thread that will ultimately be snapped under the cruel indifference of the world. Hunters timer will tick down regardless of if it takes another with it. Its a tragedy- its doomed to end badly. Whatever good it offers to either of them to find each other will only provide the fleeting comfort of a band-aid that will be ripped away too early. But all that can be worth indulging in anyway, if only for the moment. It doesn't change the ending, but the ending was never going to be happy. Its can so yuri