#when the dust settles

[mercurial-madhouse]

When The Dust Settles by mercurial-madhouse / writing_practice

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson  |  100K  |  E 

**

Something is different tonight; he can’t place it.

If neither alpha can feel it, it’s not real. He’s the issue.

The acrid smoke of lost causes and inescapable fate drifts from the burnt, smoldering ruins of a distant building, assaulting his nose the moment his feet hit the shore. The smell has decayed since the high-rise flats caught fire three weeks ago, taking dozens of lives with it. Beneath the rubble, molten metal beams still gleam like captive renegades, trapped by the heat of their own uprising.

At times like these, he pities Niall and Harry and their alpha senses. What other horrors can they smell beneath the wreckage?

Threatened by the power omegas hold, alphas waged a civil war that resulted in the extinction of male omegas. Three centuries on, Louis and his mates risk their lives smuggling the omegas that remain to safety.

When Louis proves the impossible to be possible and presents as a male omega, will the quiet rebellion he's worked so hard to create be maintained, or will his newfound abilities destroy all he's fought for?

********

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

New chapters post every Friday until fic is complete.

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Credit for the dagger and roses symbol in the moodboard goes to the unbelievably talented @allwaswell16​, who created an actual cross-stitch in honor of the ficlet. Please go love on it. You can find her original artwork post here.

[herethereverywhere]

hi.here's a free invite to infodump about your dnd campaigns :3 whats goin on over there

cas my mutual my friend . i cant BEGIN to tell you how appy this ask makes me :) anyways campains he hoo if my players see this dni i am speaking specifically to my coc-ers because . i trust that i dont have to make a spoiler tag for you BUT u kno.

first and foremost we will start with city of dust because we dont have session until august and i am deeply sad about this </3 BUT WHEN WE DO . ohhh iam so HYPED you do not know

the players are going back to zuan which is important for me because theyve been in piltover for a good amount of our sessions and i have . no notes on piltover. i have a TON on zuan, and next session the players are going to a area i have sat on since the start of the campaign. it's called the mystics district. heres a blurb from my notes so i dont have to rehash what i have told my non-players and friends

for my call of cthulu summer campaign. first of all my players are AWESOME, cal you will see this later . i shake you back and forth thank you for stepping in to a empty space and taking a chance on me i LOVE having u at my table and you are the reason i will be taking on mutuals in campaigns and or oneshots in the future. as for the game itself, they have finally got to the horrors! in a way. i'll be interested to see how next session goes, what they choose to explore and neglect, ect. ect. basically next session is this day next week and i am hype for it oh and i made a old man to play in a friend of a friends system recently ! i finally have solid footing in that which is nice and actually creates a investment ykno

[soulinkpoetry]

When the dust settles you can see much clearer. What you meant to them, what they meant to you, what you take with you, what you leave behind and all the lessons you’ve learned on the way.

• .

• .

• Music by Birdy

.

[selfshippinglover]

Thinking about @lanthegreatarts boy!🖤❤🖤❤

Noth in g much more to say just fuzzy feelings <3

[howifeltabouthim]

Let's meet again, shall we, when the hurly-burly's done? Tho' heaven only knows when that will be.

Iris Murdoch, from Under the Net

[sparrowsworkshop]

“When the Dust Settles” by OneWingedSparrow; Chapter 1: Last Heroes

Next Chapter >>> Summary: Paris has fallen. Thanks to the misguided efforts of one individual who stumbled upon the powers of the Butterfly Miraculous, the once beautiful city sank into ruin and the people fell prey to a terrible fate. Two survivors roam the wreckage, spared only by the Miraculous they themselves carry. Bearing the names Ladybug and Chat Noir, and burdened by the hearts of their kwamis Tikki and Plagg, Marinette and Adrien struggle to protect each other...while also hoping to rescue any others that have somehow survived the apocalypse. Tags: Post Apocalypse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff and Angst, LadyNoir, Tikki / Plagg, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Mild Blood Bonus: Tag for the Whole Fic: Angst with a Happy Ending Reblogs are appreciated! This was written for LadyNoirJuly2022! So excited to contribute this year. :D (This is a multichapter fic, and each prompt for LadyNoirJuly will be another chapter.) @ladynoirjuly Day 1 Prompt: Last Heroes Read on AO3

Chapter 1: Last Heroes

~ “I’m sorry,” her Kitty whispers as she wraps the bandage over his arm. Ladybug shakes her head. She can’t meet his eyes, despite the fact that their glowing green depths are considerably brighter than the crooked streetlamp casting dim lighting over both of them. She know she doesn’t need to say the words aloud for him to hear them.  Don’t apologize. He sighs in defeat, only to grimace three seconds later. Maybe being so focused made her knots too tight. She loosens the wrap a bit, ignoring the dark red stain that seeps through the cloth. Nineteen doesn’t feel old enough to play medic. Then again, seventeen was too young to play survivor, and yet, that’s what life made her. She surveys her handiwork, and then, finally looks up. “Good?” Ladybug asks under her breath. Chat Noir responds with a smile. A small one, but a smile nonetheless. A flash of green ripples the air, repelling some of the smog; in an instant, his once-bare, now-bandaged arm covers itself again with the tight black sleeves of his supersuit. With his good arm, he reaches for her hand and gently leads her through the dark. She simply follows, trusting in his superior night vision to guide them. With him taking point, she can channel her attention into listening. As always, the first sound she notices is the crunch of their boots on the pavement. No matter how quiet they try to be, the brittle, broken concrete always makes some sort of gravelly complaint. Overlapping this is the ghostly hiss of the wind, rustling tattered billboards and slamming loose debris about. Every now and then a streetlight crackles, its lightbulb gasping for breath, though those noises become fainter as Chat Noir drifts farther from the lights. But these sounds are irrelevant, mundane, unimportant. What she needs to listen for comes beyond the hushed requiem of a city deserted. What she needs to listen for are sounds she never wants to hear again. A butterfly’s wingbeat. A last cry for help. He stops suddenly, his grip tightening on her hand. She halts too, and her pulse pounds in her ears, drowning out all else. The cat ears atop his head flick erratically, one at a time. Otherwise motionless, Chat Noir stares into the haze. Ladybug stretches her free hand towards the yo-yo on her waist, ready to sling it. Ten seconds pass. Then twenty. Thirty-five. And then he whirls.

Dust flutters about with the swift motion, clogging her nose and nearly making her sneeze. Struggling, she suppresses the reflex. Abruptly he pulls on his hood and then sweeps the folds of his cloak over her, until her bright red outfit is completely encased in the darkness. She raises her head to meet his glowing eyes. He presses a finger over his mouth. She hangs her head, calculating. If he thinks it best to remain still, they can't be too near. But out of all their strategies, this is her least favorite. She hates hunkering down, especially when she can't see what's going on. Her insides start to quiver. She forces herself to breathe. In. Out. Through her nose. The cloak smells like smoke with the faintest hint of blood. Like the aftertaste of rainwater. Like one too many weeks spent on the open road. "Okay," he whispers. Ladybug nods. He pulls his cloak away, and she is free to see the world once more. She doesn't miss how he flinches when he moves his injured arm. "Call it a day?" she asks softly. "There's a Bunker nearby." "Sure." For once, he doesn't protest. Her heart stings. His injury must be worse than he lets on, or he wouldn't agree to rest so quickly. "Not this way," Chat Noir whispers, glancing over his shoulder. "Just...in case. We'll take the long way around." She pulls out her yo-yo this time, squeezing it so hard she feels she might crack it in two. "Don't rush." *        *        * The Bunker they find is one they were in about three days ago. She was hoping they could have covered more ground, maybe found a new safehouse along the way, but it's best to play it safe. If there's anything they have, it's time. This particular Bunker used to be a small house with a picket fence and windowboxes bursting with life. Now the boxes are overturned, the flowers long since wilted, some of the dry stalks blown away. The fence is no longer there, not that it would have been a good barricade for anyone. And the house itself has collapsed somewhat, its roof dappled with skylights that weren't in the original blueprints. But somewhere among the three and a half walls that remain, there's a snug alcove out of sight from the road. Once again, unplanned; such a "room" was only formed by wreckage, though they did move around some of the rubble to make it a little more secure. The space is just large enough for both of them to lie down in, and it's under a section of roof that hasn't been broken in, so they have some shelter from the rain, if there is any. She forces him to hang back while she scouts out the Bunker. Though she can't see as well in the dark, she knows the place well enough to not need high visibility. Her yo-yo flicks into the corners she doesn't dare enter first. Finally, Ladybug deems the Bunker secure and beckons Chat Noir in. The "room" has a dirt floor; they'd ripped up the broken floorboards long ago, to make it more comfortable. Between their cloaks and the small space, they've always been warm enough, at least for this season.They lie down at the same time. This leaves them rather vulnerable, she knows. One of them should keep watch. But she’s just...so...tired. He is too. And she doesn’t want to leave him. Not like this. Fighting alone, even a minor injury could be the difference between life and death. The silence wraps around them like the smog—overbearing, uneasy, and suffocating. Ladybug wraps her arms around herself. Usually she feels safe here. With him. But today...she can't help but be worried. Chat Noir seems to sense her anxiety. He rolls over, closer to her. At this, she tips on her side as well, watching.“Was it a mistake?” he mumbles at last. “Choosing me?” “Never,” she says back, making firm eye contact. Chat Noir studies her face. Searching for truth. “You might have found someone better.” “There is no one better than you.” “You mean there is no one else around.” She laughs weakly. “You might have found someone,” he repeats, as if he wants to believe it. “Someone who didn’t get hurt all the time. Someone who actually matters.” “You tell those thoughts to shut up,” she says firmly. “No, more. Cataclysm them.” “Can’t,” he says softly. “You know this.” Her gaze flicks down to the cracked ring on his finger. “Imagine you can. Do it anyway.” He becomes quiet for a moment. "I'll try," he mumbles at last. She reaches out and gently touches his injured arm. Not in the wounded spot, but just above. "Miraculous Ladybug," she murmurs. She knows the words are useless. But the placebo seems to work, because she's rewarded with another tiny smile. Drowsiness starts to wash over her. She closes her eyes. The silence doesn't seem as horrid now. It's almost...peaceful. Almost. "Do you think They got hurt as much as us?" Chat Noir asks suddenly, and her eyelids flutter open. They. Nameless, speechless, almost faceless. He’s never seen Them, but she saw the Lady. Once. Only once, but for time long enough to burn the image into her memory. That memory is potent in emotion, but lacking in clarity. The face of the Lady is only getting blurrier the more months pass. "I don't know," Ladybug says. He hums. "Must be the bad luck They passed on." “It’s not Their fault,” she says, because she knows it’s probably not. She wants to believe it’s probably not. At the very least, she can give Them the benefit of the doubt. "They sure left us a lot to clean up." Sadness chips away at his voice. "But They left us something," Ladybug reminds him. Her eyes close again, all on their own. "And that's...all that matters." ~ Next Chapter >>>

[onewingedsparrow]

Here from the WIP game! I'm curious about "When the Dust Settles"? (Curious abt all of them ofc but that one stood out to me the most)

Hi! Thank you for the ask!! For the WIP ask game "When the Dust Settles" is my Miraculous Ladybug Post-Apocalypse AU fic! I originally started it for LadyNoirJuly, but the summer was so hectic that I only posted a little bit of it. There's so much in that document but it still needs quite a bit of work...I'm really excited to finish it though! You can read the chapters I have up right here! [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

Part of the reason it's taking me so long to write this story is because I'm attempting to practice writing Mystery / Suspense / Thriller / etc. While I, the author, know the big picture behind the scenes, my audience doesn't; I'm trying to write the story in a way that draws the mystery out slowly, but that also keeps the pulse pumping with the fright of the unknown. I hope that each chapter leaves the reader with burning questions about the world, the characters, and the future. This story is very good practice for me! Each chapter will be based on the daily word prompts for LadyNoirJuly 2022 btw ;)

Here's a teaser from the next chapter:

Don’t look back! Tikki warns. You know better! I know, I know, Marinette shoots back. They'll be fine! Plagg can see better than we can. Does Tikki know the truth, or is she only hoping?

[what-rem4ins]

I’ve written and rewritten a million things that I want to tell you.  

I think there will always be more things I want to give you

Always more words I want to share

And hear yours in return

[ao3feed-larry]

When the Dust Settles

by mercurial-madhouse (writing_practice)

Threatened by the power omegas hold, alphas waged a civil war that resulted in the extinction of male omegas. Three centuries on, Louis and his lads risk their lives smuggling the omegas that remain to safety.

When Louis proves the impossible to be possible and presents as a male omega, will the quiet rebellion he's worked so hard to create be maintained, or will his newfound abilities destroy all he's fought for?

Words: 2271, Chapters: 1/28, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of When the Dust Settles

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: M/M

Characters: Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Liam Payne, Zayn Malik

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Omega Verse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Louis Tomlinson, Omega Louis Tomlinson, Alpha Harry Styles, Alpha Niall Horan, Beta Liam Payne, Beta Zayn Malik, Action/Adventure, Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Blood and Violence, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Blood and Injury, Smuggling, people smuggling, the boys are the good guys, Post-War, vigilantes, Resistance, societal prejudice, presenting, Scenting, Nesting, Touch Deprivation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, omega drop, Friends to Lovers, Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Pining, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, OT5 Friendship (One Direction), Gender Presentation, surprise omega louis, Sharing a Bed, Secret Omega, Protective Harry Styles, Protective Louis Tomlinson, Major Character Injury, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Leader Louis Tomlinson, Rated For Violence, Sexual Tension, Resolved Sexual Tension, There likely will be sexual content, but as of right now the characters haven’t told me exactly what, tags will be added as the story progresses

via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/C0S3Oy5

[communistkenobi]

is this not going to lead to increased violent resistance in countries whose governments are participating in genocide? if people see that calling your reps and voting won’t stop your own government from openly supporting and sponsoring genocide then what other conclusions are people going to come to? This comes directly after watching millions die from a global pandemic because our governments refused to do anything. it felt like we’d been building to an explosion of violence even before October 7 with all the massive increases in right wing organised violence as well as the reams of labour strikes, but that seems quaint now. Palestine appears to hold global popular support. in one protest last week in london alone there was 100k people demonstrating in support of Palestine. Where is that energy going to go? It’s not going to drive people to the polls

[sweetchcolate]

I love this gentle moment between Maomao and Jinshi: it's peaceful and quiet, but most importantly it's comfortable. There's none of the unease or disgruntlement Maomao usually shows around Jinshi nor any of Jinshi's flirty antics and fake smiles. It's just two young adults having a normal conversation and enjoying the evening.

I also love how their camaraderie and their comfort around the other show in the way Maomao teases Jinshi about missing and regrowing finger tips as well as Jinshi freaking out over Maomao's wound (while she herself is totally nonplussed by it). It's a nice change to their usual cat and dog bug relationship and goes to show how close they've gotten since the start of the series

[madamemiz]

Eclipse in Ruin

*sobs*

SOBBING WITH YOU FRIEND

aughhhhagahagahgh. malewife, 10/10 space cadet, poor delusional little meow meow. i'm so delighted by them, and delighted that we left them on a reasonably high note

their personality being so soothing but firm is a nice touch. just like the virus brought out the worst in sun and moon, i think this rebooted state brought out and combined the best traits of them. it’s a common headcanon that moon was soft with the kids before he got virused, a naptime guardian of sorts, and i think that shines through in eclipse. at the very least, that’s how i choose to interpret that aspect of them :)

... i do wonder how long it'll take them to realize there are no kids coming in the morning. how long will it take before an exhausted sun chimes in that things aren't like they used to be, or for eclipse to access moon's memory files?

[herethereverywhere]

7 (skill everyone knows) & 1 (common theories abt the universe) for your dnd world?

7. You don’t have to go to the Academy if you’re born in Piltover, but people do find it strange if you aren’t interested in one of the schools the Academy covers with its extensive curriculum. On the flip side, a extensive understanding of the arcane or science would be considered strange by nature of how education in Zuan works.

1. this is where we get in to spoiler territory so i’m going to need to put a cut for my players who follow me so, uh, info under the cut :]

With that out of the way, I would say the primary ones are:

1. Arcana, and how it works in the world. There is a in-universe answer my players haven’t found yet, so I won’t go into it too much, but Piltover scholars lack critical information because of the city’s history with the restriction of arcana in the format of the law.

2. How the world interacts with itself - Tritons have a myth to how the world was created, and it’s about half right. Unfortunately, the only triton in our party has amnesia for…reasons :)

3. Gods, and how they work in the world. Neither Piltover nor Zuan are particularly religious, so the understanding holy classes have of their Gods (and patrons) is a very unique experience.

[umbrvx]

this ones for all the dual orv & drakenier fans out there... (if u are out there....)

[thetinyshilohart]

I accidentally got into Voltron, so of course I have a lot of smutty ideas. And no, season 6, 7, and 8 don't exist. ( ; u ; )

Full image under the Read More:

[sparrowsworkshop]

“When the Dust Settles” by OneWingedSparrow; Chapter 2: Moon

<<< First Chapter Next Chapter >>> Fic Summary: Paris has fallen. Thanks to the misguided efforts of one individual who stumbled upon the powers of the Butterfly Miraculous, the once beautiful city sank into ruin and the people fell prey to a terrible fate. Two survivors roam the wreckage, spared only by the Miraculous they themselves carry. Bearing the names Ladybug and Chat Noir, and burdened by the hearts of their kwamis Tikki and Plagg, Marinette and Adrien struggle to protect each other…while also hoping to rescue any others that have somehow survived the apocalypse. (Whole Fic) Tags: Post Apocalypse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff and Angst, LadyNoir, Tikki / Plagg, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Mild Blood, LadyNoir & Tikki & Plagg, Angst with a Happy Ending Chapter 2 Specific Tags: Mild Blood, Emilie Agreste (mentioned), Angst and Feels, Chat Noir & Plagg, Music, Chat Noir Suppresses His Emotions :( Reblogs are appreciated! This was written for LadyNoirJuly2022! (This is a multichapter fic, and each prompt for LadyNoirJuly will be another chapter.) @ladynoirjuly Day 2 Prompt: Moon Read on AO3 Chapter 2 Summary: Blood is thicker than water.... ~

Chapter 2: Moon

Playing with fire is a risky pursuit.

Sure, the air is polluted enough that a little more smoke doesn’t make much of a difference in giving away their position. But the cheery, warm light that a fire makes, no matter how contained the flames, is a far more prevalent beacon than any pluming column of smoke.

Even so, this risk is necessary to staying alive. Much of Paris’ plumbing has been compromised at this point. Very few taps function, and the ones that do are hard to reach and somewhat dubious. The Seine is lifeblood itself now. Contaminated though it is—they have no idea nor any desire to learn what has plunged into its depths since the Collapse—the river is still a comfortingly constant supply of drinkable water.

That’s why the Seine is their most precious Bunker. Specifically, the old Couffaine houseboat tied just off the shore. The boat no longer runs, but it’s still shipshape enough to float, and the Swarm seem disinterested in the boat for the most part since Ladybug and Chat Noir stripped it of nearly all its cargo. The shore nearby the houseboat is their designated firepit. The place they return to most often, to boil water.

A full moon casts a judgmental glare on the smog as Chat Noir opens the lid of the polkadotted saucepan. Steam jettisons out, almost shooting into his face. Hastily, Chat Noir replaces the covering. “Boiling,” he announces into his baton. “Setting a timer now.”

“Copy,” Ladybug’s voice replies over the device. “Everything seems clear from here.”

A few button presses and the baton’s timer is active. He looks up at the boat, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but she is well out of sight.

Sitting crosslegged for so long has taken a toll on his knees. Chat Noir grimaces and shifts his legs to another position, taking care to not let his cloak brush the coals. The saucepan rattles atop the fire. Absentmindedly, he presses the lid down with his finger, and the noise quiets.

The air is cooler and seems cleaner by the Seine. Dust particles still dance in his vision, sparkling ever brighter in the pale purple moonlight, but the evening breeze twirls them away over the water. If he closes his eyes and listens solely to the current, and breathes very carefully through his nose, he can almost pretend he’s back by the Thames, spending a carefree afternoon with his mother.

His nose is stuffy now. Not from the dust.

Electronic beeps snap his daydream in half. Blinking rapidly, Chat Noir slams the silent button before the timer can attract unwanted attention. “Ready,” he says into his baton. His voice is huskier than normal. Maybe Ladybug won’t notice.

She emerges from the houseboat a few seconds after, the two beetle wings of her red and black cloak fluttering behind her. By the time she meets him onshore, however, he’s recovered. Eyes wiped, lumps swallowed, nose wrinkled to call back the snot. He can keep it together. He tells himself he was to keep it together. For her.

If Ladybug notices his discomposure, she doesn’t say anything. She charges right into action, pulling out two polkadotted thermoses from the endless depths of her yo-yo. Two of the many past Lucky Charms she never had the...chance to get rid of.

She drives them into the sand, deep enough to be secure. He removes the saucepan from the fire and carefully pours the water into the two thermoses. She twirls her yo-yo to disperse the steam, all the while watching his back. When he finishes, he jogs over to the river to get more water. One batch down. At least ten more to go. She said she wanted to travel for a while. There’s still so much of Paris she hasn’t searched. The more ground they can cover before they have to come back to the Seine, the better.

He only wishes Tikki had given them a bigger pot.

Walking back with a full saucepan takes time. He treads with caution, not wishing to slosh any water over the edge. This particular task has been his responsibility ever since the one time Ladybug tripped over her own feet and accidentally put out the fire with the downpour. She was a bit frazzled after that experience.

Speaking of…. Chat Noir looks up, and his heart sinks. Oh, Ladybug.

She’s stressed. He can tell by the way her eyes flick about, by her shallow breaths, by the nervous way she bounces on her toes. He could attribute this stress to numerous causes. The shaky unease of feeling hunted. The empty worry for the future. The aching regret over lost opportunities. Everything that he feels constantly, but even more so, since she’s been doing this longer than he has. However...even though he hasn’t been with her the whole time, he’s grown incredibly perceptive to her habits. Her tendency to keep glancing at his injured arm, for instance. She’s hiding this fact well, but the closer he comes to her, the more obvious it is.

Chat Noir sighs softly to himself. No matter how strong a front he puts up, her anxiety always slams through it like a battering ram. On one hand—he smiles at his own pun—he’s touched by her concern. On the other, though, he wishes she would relax. This situation isn’t new, after all.

The pan lands on the fire. He straightens to his full height and rubs the back of his neck, trying to think of something to say. But Ladybug beats him to it.

“Let me see,” she blurts out. She’s openly staring at his right arm now, as if she can’t meet his eyes. “It’s...been enough time.”

Chat Noir pauses. Considers. Debates.

A voice in his mind whispers a warning.

If you value your hide, you’ll listen to her.

“Okay,” he says, as much to Plagg as to her. With a flash and a hiss, his sleeve magically retracts, exposing his bandaged forearm. Ladybug rushes over before it’s even all the way gone. Gingerly she pokes at the bandage, pulling away the cloth. Despite her gentleness, pain demands to claw into him. He grits his teeth. Crap. He can already feel that she’s not going to like what she—

A muffled shriek pierces his ears…all of them. Chat Noir winces.

“It’s getting worse,” Ladybug whispers, horrified. “Oh, Kitty….”

He dares to look down. It’s been a couple days since his last...incident, and since she’d cleaned and wrapped the wound. Not that he can tell that from the status now. His arm is bright red, redder than the mask around her widening eyes. Not bleeding so much as it is...festering is the only word he can think of. The wound isn’t bleeding, but it’s not closing up, either. Infected, maybe? He’s never been good at identifying medical matters, and the magic variable isn’t helping.

Somewhere below comes the strained hiss of boiling water.

Her lips purse together.  Grimly, she flips her yo-yo open. “Let me find another bandage.”

Plagg doesn't need to chide him this time. He simply nods.

The new cloth bandage she pulls out is painted lavender by the somber moonlight. While she works, cleaning the wound and rhythmically wrapping his arm once again, Chat Noir grits his teeth and tries to ignore the faint, high-pitched whimpering in his mind. A song leaps to the forefront of his thoughts, as if  aware he is desperate for a distraction. As Ladybug wraps, Chat Noir hums to himself, the river nearly drowning out the mournful melody.

Il y longtemps que je’taime….

Jamais je ne t’oublierai…. ~ <<< First Chapter Next Chapter >>>