#yep absolutely nothing just two dudes chilling in heat | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blondsauduun-reads · 4 years

Text

Really Something

Pairing: Julie x Luke

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Flu? I think some light swearing?

Plot: Request from @riverdalefan2019 - The guys all went to college and Luke meets his roommate Julie instant attraction but neither want to mess up there room situation but one week it changes and Luke gets sick with the flu and Julie takes care of him, and while bed ridden truths are admitted about falling for each other and they get together please.

A/N: This was my first request ever so. Be nice. Also I hope I did well and did more or less what you had in mind!!!

Ah, first day of college. You can smell the nervousness and the panic of the freshmen, the exasperation and exhaustion of the sophomores and juniors, and the will to finally pass this year of the seniors.

Wasn’t like that for Julie Molina though. She was excited, full of life, willing to ace every single test and assignment.

She was strolling through campus, looking at the buildings, the people, listening to music. Looking everywhere but ahead and listening to nothing except Harry Styles on her earbuds.

“Hey! Watch out!” A brunet guy raised his voice, bringing her back to the real world, where she’d just thrown this guy’s stuff on the ground.

“Shi- I’m so sorry, wait, let me help,” she immediately dropped to the floor and helped the guy pick up his stuff, which was all cables and CDs.

“I’m Julie. Hi.” Once everything was back in the box, she tried to introduce herself.

“Luke, a pleasure.” He smiled.

A brief moment of epiphany where he realized Julie was absolutely stunning, and she realized Luke was breathtakingly cute.

“Luke!” Some other masculine voice broke him out of his trance. “C’mon, we have to get the room, now!” The guy, presumably Luke’s future roommate, had blond and very shiny hair, and was accompanied by a punk-looking black-haired guy too.

“See you around!” She said, also turning to where her dorm room was

Julie walked into the building, looking for room 195.

Entering the building, finding the correct floor, the right wing and making all the right turns in the hallways.

It was a lovely room, had two beds, two desks, two dressers, and a questionable rug on the floor.

“They really got you two a double room? And what about me, man?” Luke said from outside, kind of jumping around. “Who gon’ be my roomie?”

“Dude, calm down.” The blond guy from earlier said, grabbing his shoulders, so he stopped jumping around. “Me and Reg two doors down that way. Chill.”

“Yeah!” Reggie said, “And maybe, you even get that cute girl you were talking to earlier, huh?” he added, wiggling his brows.

“You mean me?” Julie said, popping her head out the door to the hall.

“Yeah!” He said. “I’m Reggie, this is Alex, and this,” Reggie shoved Luke inside the room. “Is your roomie.” He waved bye and dragged the blond along back to their dorm.

“Luke, right?” Julie asked, not that she’d ever forget his name, though.

“Yep, and you're Julie” He smiled, she smiled, they set ground rules, like not bringing boyfriends or girlfriends over and like not going through each others’ stuff, and they got to decorating and unpacking.

“Damn, the theater majors really are blasting Hamilton across the hall, geez.” Julie said, coming into the room she and Luke had been sharing for five weeks, with a plastic bag with their dinner in it inside.

“Oh I know.” Luke spun around with his desk chair and stood up to greet Julie and help her set the table -which they bought one week after moving in, at a thrift shop for like, five bucks- “It’s been like that since you left.” He rolled his eyes, making her laugh. It was nice to know that he could make her laugh.

“I hate this rug, it’s like, stepping on sandpaper.” She mentioned the almost brown rug under their feet, which hadn’t been clean since the university bought it. That made him snicker and nod. “We should clean it.”

Christmas break was finally here. The roommates of dorm nº195 and dorm nº190 -Alex and Reg- were pretty tight knit by then, and all of them were staying at campus for the holiday, because Julie couldn’t afford going to Puerto Rico on Christmas, and the boys didn’t really like family time anyway, so they stayed with Julie.

For Christmas they had lunch at Julie and Luke’s dorm, because surprisingly it was the least messy of the two rooms, and because somehow, their kitchenette had a stove, which wasn’t actually allowed, but, whatever, it’s just soup. So, their Christmas lunch was soup and a rotisserie chicken.

Gifts were exchanged! Alex got some new fancy socks, a snapback with a goat and some new drumsticks because Reggie accidentally broke them two weeks ago, Reggie got some fierce new boots, an ugly christmas sweater which he actually loved and a goldfish from Petco, Luke got a collection of new notebooks -because he seemed to burn through an entire one in less than a month-, yet another flannel shirt, and some fuzzy socks -from Julie, because he always stole hers, despite the rule that said to not go through each others’ stuff, and always ended up stretching them out so that they didn’t fit her anymore-, and Julie received a denim jacket -which she had deemed her favorite since that day-, a couple of potted plants, and a big hoodie -which wasn’t actually big, it was Luke’s size, which apparently she loved, because she had stolen every single one of his hoodies without asking (he was out and the dorm didn’t have any heating, ok?), and always seemed to put them back in their place, until the day Luke saw her wearing one, almost fainted because of how cute she looked, and suddenly it made sense why his hoodies always smelt like her (not that he ever mentioned that, though)-. So yeah, they had a nice Christmas.

Today was December 27th and the two of them were cleaning the rug (outside and on the pavement, which had been lined with a piece of plastic), because today was the sunniest day they’d had all the month.)

“Hey!” Julie laughed when Luke splashed some of the water-soap solution on her.

“What?” He acted as if he was doing a completely normal, mature thing. “Looks like you need a thorough scrubbing too, Julie.” Oh boy.

“Uh? Excuse you sir, at least I wear sleeves.” She soaked up good her sponge in the soapy water, “Because, if you had actual tees, I wouldn’t be able-” No sleeves, and as usual, the arm hole on his shirt was so big it reached his lower ribs. “- to do this!” Shaboom. She threw the sponge into the sleeve hole, directly into his shirt.

“You just started a war, Molina!” He fished the wet sponge out of his clothes and threw it at her face.

Julie soaked the sponge up again and threw it at his face, somehow he lost balance and fell onto the semi-dirty wet rug.

“A war that you have lost, Patterson.” She said, hovering over him, claiming her victory.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He pulled on the arm that was supporting her over him, so now she lost balance, fell on the wet rug too, and somehow threw the whole bucket of water on them.

“Well, it’s soap and water, so we’re not technically dirty, right?” He chuckled.

“You’re really something Luke. Really something.” Well. In that particular moment, he was a wet music major with a tummy full of christmas food. But Julie meant that he was really something, to her.

But unfortunately, and in that case, really something also meant he was really prone to catching nasty colds.

“Luke, your fever is getting real high, real fast.” Julie said, looking at the thermometer which clearly indicated 104ºF and 40ºC.

“If I’d have known that all it takes is a fever for you to call me hot, I would’ve gotten sick earlier.” He answered, from under his blanket.

“Shit, he’s even worse than usual.” Alex said through Julie’s phone, which was on speaker and on the table.

“We’ll come by after class, bring him some antipyretics or something. Good luck!” He said, before hanging up.

“That’s it.” She said. “I’m going to the store.” She couldn’t stand Luke looking so sick and weak, she missed the healthy and boyish Luke. She was going to get soup ingredients at the store.

“Luke, you’ll-” She turned around to tell him he should rest, but found him sleeping already. “Rest, and get better.” She kissed his forehead, still feeling him burning up, and went on her way. Luke smiled in his sleep.

“Hey, Luke.” She shook his shoulder gently to wake him up. “You’ve slept the whole afternoon, I made dinner.”

Luke woke up, kinda. He could smell spices.

“But it’s not done yet, and you need to take a shower.”

“What, why?”

“Well, you’re sweaty and feverish, so a room temperature shower will do you good.” She said, going to grab something out of her drawer. “And use this with your body soap.”She handed him a fancy little bottle that spelled Alcoholado on the front in a very worn down paper stuck to it.

“Okay.” He put up no resistance, just grabbing his Manly Man 2-in-1 Shampoo and Soap, his towel, some crocs for the shower (which everyone complained about, but whatever) a clean set of pjs, the bottle she had given him, stuffed it into his backpack, and went to the bathrooms.

Twenty minutes after, he was back, the table was almost set, two big bowls of something that looked like soup on the table, the trashcan full of plastic wrappers and veggie rests from the soup, the leftover ingredients tucked away in the only cabinet their kitchenette had, and a medium pot of soup on the stove, which wasn’t on anymore, but the soup on the inside still steamed a bit. And Julie in her christmas-gift-hoodie and some sweats.

“What was that thing you gave me?” Luke asked, looking at the bottle he held in his hand and throwing his bag on his bed.

“Alcoholado, my Abuela made it and gave me half a dozen bottles for college. It’s supposed to calm fevers and help with colds.” Julie said, putting the cutlery on the table and sitting down.

“And this is chicken Asopao, my Abuela also made it for me when I was sick.”

“Julie, you really didn’t-”

“In first place, yeah I did, it’s my fault you’re sick; and in second, I care about you, Luke.”

Luke almost fucking fainted, but decided that sitting on the chair and eating the Asopao she’d made was way better.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he said, cleaning up the table and everything with her. “ I feel a lot better.”

“I’m happy I did!” She said, somehow earning a nice hug from him.

After they broke apart the hug, they turned off the lights and went to sleep.

Julie was woken up at 4 am by Luke’s coughing, and went to check on him immediately.

She checked his temperature, which was somehow very cold, despite him being wrapped in a pair of blankets.

“I-I’m cold,” He muttered half asleep.

“Yeah, I can feel that.” She rushed to her bed again and pulled a thick duvet from under it, went back to Luke and laid it on him. “Better?”

“No.” He said, hesitantly. “Cuddle with me maybe?”

Julie thought about it. This would only make her heart flutter and turn her feelings towards him more intense, but he was sick because of her and she’d lose a bit of her dignity to make him feel better if that’s what it took.

“Scoot over.” She said softly, holding up the blankets so she could get under them.

Twenty seconds after, they were both cuddling very comfortably in his bed, Luke was beginning to warm up, when he made a comment;

“I know why I’m in love with you, Julie.” She opened her eyes in a heartbeat, but stood still, thinking about what to tell him, and if she should respond at all.

“It’s because you’re caring and lovable and kind and just, overall amazing.” He said sleepily, before she could say anything.

“I love you too, Luke.” She kissed the crown of his head, Yes they were spooning and she was big spoon. “Sleep now, though. You need it.”

They wiggled closer to one another, and finally fell asleep, under three blankets and had very sweet dreams.

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #luke x julie #juke #jatp juke #juke one shot #jatp one shot #julie jatp #jatp julie #luke jatp #jatp luke #julie and the phantoms one shot #julie x luke

9 notes · View notes

asher-west · 4 years

Text

◦ ✧ 🌊 — intro !

⌠ CHASE STOKES, 23, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, ASHER WEST! according to their records, they’re a FOURTH year, specializing in THREAT ELIMINATION + DRIVER’S ED; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( windswept hair, the smell of the ocean, bruised knuckles, a lopsided grin, ripped denim ). when it’s the ( pisces )’s birthday on 03/18/1997, they always request APPLE PIE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ lily, 19, she/her, gmt ⍀

@gallagherintro

|| CONNECTIONS PAGE || PINTEREST || ABOUT || STATS || BIO ||

hey, it’s lily back again with another mess of a human being -- everyone say hi to my floridian himbo child asher! i love him a lot and i’m super excited for him to start interacting with everyone -- i binged outer banks the other day, saw chase stokes, and was like -- yep, that one please. ( i’m really not sure why i cursed myself with chase stokes bc at the moment he only has two gif packs, but wahey, i love his golden retriever face -- just be prepared for the same few gifs over and over lmao )

[ c h a r a c t e r ; ]

&. basics

full name: Asher Theodore West

nicknames: Ash, Theo

age: 23

orientation: heterosexual

relationship status: single

date of birth: March 18th, 1997

hometown: Edgewater, Florida

gender: cismale

language(s) spoken: English, Spanish

accent: central American

&. personality

five positive traits: loyal, gallant, reliable, self-sufficient, practical

five negative traits: overprotective, stubborn, undisciplined, impatient, quick-tempered

goals/desires: make a name for himself, support his family, have fun

fears: his dad, disappointing his friends/family, snakes

hobbies: surfing, driving, making people laugh

[ s t o r y ; ] ( tw: abuse)

background:

asher was the result of a teen pregnancy (his mother was 17 and his father was 18), and grew up with practically nothing in a tiny house by the beach in edgewater, florida

nearly a month after he turned five, his mother gave birth to his little sister, willow -- she was his birthday present, his mom joked, as asher received nothing else that year

unfortunately, the birth of his little sister was the last straw for his dad, a 22 year old who felt trapped by his laborious job at the docks and growing family he never asked for

his dad became violent towards asher and his mom, lashing out for any small inconvenience or mistake, though rarely physically

then one morning, asher and his mother woke up to find that his dad had disappeared with all their savings

asher’s mom was devastated and took on a job at the local diner, and his aunt cora came to help take care of him and his sister ( although ‘take care’ meant her coming over and passing out drunk on their tiny couch )

asher stepped up and started to practically raise his little sister, taking the burden of the child away from his already overworked mom

at thirteen, he started to take on odd jobs at the docks to help make money

at sixteen, his father reappeared on their doorstep with a bouquet of lilies (his mother’s favorite) and said he was sorry, and his mom welcomed him back, desperate to return to her fantasy of a perfect family

but his dad had not changed, and remained abusive, only this time it was much worse than when they were kids, and asher tried to direct his dad’s physical violence towards himself to save his mom and little sister

and when asher was 18, yet again, his dad disappeared, this time taking asher’s college savings with him

with his dream of college ruined, asher started skipping school to make more money at the docks, no longer caring about his grades

he even started to work night shifts -- but after one of the workers made a lewd comment about his thirteen year old little sister and he decked them, he lost his job

he started to become implicated in more unsavory businesses, hearing about odd jobs from the more criminal side of town -- he was a getaway driver, made deliveries of ‘goods’, and was even sent to get money from people

as this resulted in him getting beat up, he worked his ass off to train and become better at fighting and driving -- the better he was, the more money he made for his family

when he was 18, he was approached by someone from blackthorne, enticed with the promise that the assassin life would set his family up for life

his two years at blackthorne were awful, and asher became miserable, throwing himself into his classes to try and become the best he could

when it shut down and he transferred to gallagher, it was easily one of the best days of his life

now:

asher became much more at ease at gallagher, starting to enjoy his classes and the prospect of becoming a spy rather than an assassin

his big brother tendencies bleed into his normal life, so he’s protective as fuck of his friends ( and, to be honest, anyone who seems like they need protecting )

he’s a certified dumbass ( he grew up in florida, for chrissakes ) and will get in a fistfight with someone twice his size if he so much as senses an injustice

he misses home like crazy - the sand, the sea air, the heat

he just really wants to do well, so he honestly tries his best in every single one of his classes

that being said, he’s a dumbass and loves to mess around ( like climbing the statue as a dare or trying to get into the forbidden rooms multiple times )

he’s easily aggravated, possibly a trait inherited from his father

also his biggest fear in life is turning out like his dad

which is why he absolutely GUZZLES respect women juice

he still flinches sometimes when people he’s close to raise their voice around him, or if someone he’s close to waves their hand too close to his head, but he tries to hide it as best as he can

since he skipped most of his classes in his last two years of highschool, he can feel a little dumb around some of the super smart people at gallagher, making him incredibly embarrassed

he’s also very touchy when it comes to money problems, due to his poor upbringing

others:

when he was a kid, before he had to worry about his dad, he got into surfing, and it became his favorite thing of all time -- he misses it loads while at gallagher

he LOVES to sleep in

loves to make people smile, and just generally likes being in a happy environment

since his mom works at a diner, he adores pies and diner food because they remind him of home

does the ‘hang loose’ sign with his hand way too often -- it started off as a joke when people learnt that he surfs, but now it’s engrained in him

his hair is a floppy mess -- his dad used to have super short hair, and asher thinks he looks a little too much like his dad with short hair, so the hair remains long.

almost too long, tbh, but he can just make a man bun, so he likes it

his sister makes fun of his long hair all the damn time

he’s terrible with technology -- a genuine Old Man when it comes to computers and phones, but he tries his best

he’s really good at cooking, after making most meals for his sister as a teenager

[ W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S ; ]

best friend — i need him to have a super loyal close friend he can bond with, maybe even a partner in crime?

bros — please please please give me some fellow dumbasses he can do stupid things and make bad decisions with!

romantic interests — could be past flings, or current flirtations, but he’s a charming man, and respects women, so he’s a catch and has probably charmed a few ladies around the school

exes — he despises the idea of ever hurting someone or breaking anyone’s heart, so maybe he has a few exes that he’s still good friends with? or, alternatively, for the angst, there was a bad breakup and he’s plagued by guilt.

budding romance — i’m a sap and a sucker for tropes so please give him his soulmate!

little sister — i would absolutely love for someone to play his sister - maybe she followed him to gallagher to be closer to him, or to follow in her big brother’s footsteps? i’m gonna put this up on the main but if anyone wants dibs, please message me!

anything else — like i said in calypso’s intro, give me anything and everything, please! i love having a wealth of established connections.

tl;dr — asher is a lovable, overprotective surfer dude, who grew up poor with an abusive father and a basically absent mother, and he practically raised his little sister, causing him to develop a paternal complex towards anyone he deems in need of help. he will get in a fight with anyone over any injustices, but he also just likes to hang out with friends and ~chill~!

i hope you all love him as much as i do!

#gallagher:intro #intro

9 notes · View notes

justkeeptrekkin · 5 years

Text

The Library is Open: part 2

part two for my favourite listener @ladycakepops! love ya kween

Read part one here :)

***

The dressing room lights make her skin look too pale. The mirror highlights every flaw- the slight smudge of her eyeliner below her right eye, the cakiness of her cheap foundation. Who can afford the expensive stuff when she’s layering this shit on every night? Her fake lashes stayed on tonight, at least, and she didn’t bother covering up her tattoos this time- the dragon crawling up her neck is sickening. The lights cast bright white rings in her green eyes.

With one last look, Hizashi takes a makeup wipe. With a slow, intentional movement, washes a streak of Present Mic away.

“You’re gonna be late, girl.” Hizashi doesn’t need to turn to look to know who’s talking to her. Miss Hawks has been in the table next to hers for just over a year now. Besides, the moment she sits down, feathers start falling off her dress and they scatter all over Hizashi’s dressing table. “Yo, you’re getting feathers all up in my shit.” “You love it.”

“I absolutely do not, I am literally two seconds away from calling animal control.”

Hawks is too cool to laugh at Mic’s jibes, usually. Now that Hizashi is de-dragging, it’s no different- all he gets is a lazy smirk. He has to admit to himself that out of drag, Hawks is hot. He looks like the kind of dude who’d model for a watch advert in a fine suit. But then, he knows just how cool he is and that is very much not Hizashi- or Mic’s- type.

Besides, Hizashi doesn’t think he could cope with all the fucking feathers.

“You’re going to be late.”

Hawks repeats this, largely because he likes talking, but more than that, he likes being provocative. Hizashi continues to slowly remove his makeup, ignoring the building nerves and anxiety and guilt and excitement warring inside his chest. Instead, he concentrates on the purple lipstick that comes away onto the makeup wipe that makes his mouth taste like chemically flavoured cucumber.

“You can ignore me all you want, that’s fine, I don’t give a shit.”

Hizashi doesn’t reply. Hawks makes her taunt and gently removes the feathered wig from her head to reveal a messy nest of blonde hair falling out of its bun. The smokey eye is on point, even after her performance. Along the other dressing tables, the other queens tut and complain about the feathers landing in their stuff. Best Jeanist stares in silent judgement at a yellow feather that sticks onto her contouring kit.

“I just think that this guy seemed really cute. And standing him up would be a super shitty thing to do-”

“Oh my god,” Hizashi finally exclaims. He was never good at keeping quiet about his feelings anyway, why bother? “Will you shut the fuck up about it?” “You’re standing him up?” Best Jeanist asks with a cocked brow.

Hizashi twists his lips, sits up straighter in his seat and turns back to his reflection to remove the rest of the makeup. His brows are pulled together comically. He’s always had a bit of a ridiculous face, overly expressive. “I’ll message him in a minute,” he settles with, not wanting to discuss further.

“What did he do? What did he say? Was he a creep after all?” Kamui Woods is still in full woodland nymph makeup, too distracted by her conversation with Tiger to take anything off.

“You know that’s not what it was,” Jeanist says, acting like she knows it all. “Miss Mic’s just got commitment phobia.”

There’s a round of scandalised ooing. Jeanist really has no business sharing that sort of shit in here. But then, Hizashi is easy to tease. Mic’s is all bark no bite, and Hizashi isn’t any difference. He’ll throw hands, for sure, but only in defence of one of his sisters.

Right now, Hizashi covers the feelings of embarrassment and anger with a cocky smirk and flipping the bird. He finds himself instinctively moving turning towards her and pointing an accusatory bag of makeup wipes in her direction. “Mamma, don’t be acting shady now.”

Jeanist raises her hands in a poor mimicry of apology, looking a lot like she doesn’t think she’s done anything wrong.

“Alright now, alright,” Tensei says, Ingenium outfit half removed and makeup off. Ingenium’s got that futuristic 60s sci-fi robot feel that Hizashi absolutely lives for. So chic. Tensei also happens to be Hizashi’s best friend here, aside from Nemuri. “Let’s not get personal, it’s only eight thirty.”

Hizashi casts Tensei a smile. Tensei rolls his eyes and shakes his head: just ignore them, the gesture says.

“It’s hard to date, you know?” Kamui comments, finally unpinning flowers from herself. “Drag doesn’t make it easy for us.” Hizashi nods vigorously, dragging a makeup wipe along his neck. A shadow of facial hair already coming through. “I wouldn’t sacrifice my drag for no man,” he replies. A chorus of mmhmms.

“For real, though, queen,” Tensei says. Hizashi catches his eye in the mirror. “He seemed cute. You’re really gonna stand him up?”

For once, the dressing room goes quiet, and Hizashi feels all eyes on him as he pulls off the straps of his dress to reveal his entire torso, tattooed and blushing from the heat of the stage. The silence weighs on his shoulders and he lets out a long, infuriated groan.

“For fuck’s sake- look, it’s just, too good to be true, you feel? A cute guy gives me his number after a show? Expects me to turn up- how? In drag, in the middle of a bar in Mustafu? Out of drag, just to disappoint him because I’m not what he expected? Yo, nobody wants to find out that I’m just as noisy and annoying out of drag-”

“Ey, ey, ey. Nah,” Hawks wags her finger disapprovingly at this speech. “Nobody gets to make you feel like that. Don’t let The Man get you down.”

“Even if he is tall dark and handsome.” “Especially if he’s tall dark and handsome.”

“He was just- like, over text he’s really cute and all,” Hizashi continues, on a roll now, “But holy shit he don’t say much- and like, I’m trying so hard not to be over the top or clingy or weird or annoying or too much of a smartass-”

“He loved that you were a smartass, remember?” Kamui adds. “That’s like half the reason he gave you his number, right?” Tiger nods in silent assent of this.

“-And I try so hard to keep my drag life and real life separate ‘cause you just never know what people will think, but he seemed super chill and he does seem nice but he could be a total weirdo and the fact he’s so quiet and says so little, like, probably means he’d hate me in real life ‘cause I’m the total opposite, you know, and-”

“You won’t know that till you meet him,” Jeanist says, placing her wig on its stand.

“-And we lead such different lives, like, he’s your standard salaryman and I’m here taping my dick between my legs-”

“A salaryman.” It’s the first that Shigaraki has said all this time in the dressing room. Now out of drag, he’s using the moisturiser that Hizashi practically forced on him and is lathering the stuff all over his face. He looks around Hawks at Hizashi with a mocking smile and a wrinkled brow. “A rich wanker-banker and a club worker. Like Pretty Woman. Seriously?” “Hey, no tea, no shade,” Hawks says shaking her head. Another flurry of feathers comes tumbling down from the huge collar of her dress.

Hizashi measures their descent onto the floor. “Bitch you betta have superglue.”

“Nothing wrong with a macho boy with lots of money realising the moment he lays eyes on you he’s been queer this whole time,” Hawks continues, concentrating fiercely on removing the dress.

“Sounds like a nice daydream, too bad that shit only ever happens in your head,” Shigaraki snorts.

“I wouldn’t say no to a handsomer salaryman walking in right now and-”

“Point is,” Jeanist interrupts, throwing a denim minidress onto a hanger in her dressing gown. And yep, you guessed it, it’s denim. “You know this could go badly, of course it could, but it could go well. You could hit it off. You’ll regret it if you don’t go.”

“Don’t break that poor salaryman’s heart,” Shigaraki mutters cynically, massaging moisturiser into his face.

Hizashi stares back at his reflection and considers this. The night that Mic had read Aizawa’s colleague has cemented itself in his mind. The look on Aizawa’s face. The ridiculous chemistry and the almost bashful way he’d handed over his business card.

Brows pinched nervously, he nods, and gives himself a smack in the cheeks for good measure.

***

Tatooin station is busy, people filing out of the ticket barriers with beers in hand ready for Friday night. It’s a summer night, so the sun hasn’t quite set. At 7:30, it’ll be a while until the purple blue sky goes dark.

Hizashi leans from one leg to the other, tapping his foot and fidgeting and muttering Avril Lavigne lyrics to himself like a prayer.

It’s silly to be nervous, really. Hizashi has mad charisma skills, even if the exuberance does become borderline overwhelming. First dates usually go well for him. It’s the follow-up that never lasts; when people realise that he really is always just that hyperactive. And yes, he does wear skirts in public, and no, he doesn’t tone it down for anyone.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself, picking at his nail varnish.

Looking down at his phone, he sees a message from Aizawa. Here

And looking back up, he scans the station through 60s style circular sunglasses. There are too many people for Hizashi to spot him, and Aizawa will be blending in with the rest of the salarymen. He has no idea what to look for.

But then he appears, and he wonders how he could have forgotten how much this man stands out.

Not because he’s particularly tall, or has a loud fashion sense. Not because he does anything to intentionally make himself noticeable- nothing other than just looking like he doesn’t give a fuck. It’s the messiness of the appearance, the half tied up bundle of hair. The unmistakable scar on his cheek and the perpetual hands in pockets. It’s a look that completely contradicts the salaryman lifestyle, and he seems to reveal himself easily in the crowd of tidy, urgently power-walking businessmen in suits.

Unsurprisingly, he spots Hizashi quickly.

On seeing Hizashi’s outfit- which he planned very carefully, with the added borrowed item from his sisters’ wardrobes- his eyebrows don’t even raise. It’s as if he isn’t at all taken aback to see a man standing in Tatooin station looking like a 60s androgynous witch. Instead, Hizashi watches in anticipation, growing nervousness, and pleasant surprise as Aizawa gives a small, lazy wave and wanders over. Not at all embarrassed to be seen with him.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting. Trains were fucked,” he says soberly.

He gestures for the two of them to leave the station, and Hizashi is momentarily speechless by how relaxed this man is.

“Um,” Hizashi starts, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. He hates how awkward dating makes him. Give him a microphone and he’ll rule the stage, but his love life? His confidence is in the negatives. “How was work today?”

Aizawa tilts his head from side to side in brief contemplation. Then, “I quit.”

Hizashi can tell his expression is ridiculous as he stares at Aizawa open mouthed. “Oh, fuck! That’s-? Yo, that’s pretty-”

“It’s been a long time coming,” Aizawa shrugs.

They walk down the street towards nowhere in particular. He wonders if Aizawa has anything in mind for their date, or whether they’re just aimlessly walking.

“Well, you seem super chill about it, so I guess- congrats!” Hizashi says, his words laced with laughter.

“Who wants to be a businessman, anyway,” Aizawa says, a slight grimace on his typically neutral face. He rubs at the back of his neck, tie loosened.

“Not you, huh. I guess no one dreams of sitting in front of a computer crunching numbers for hours at a time.”

“Mm. It’s not that I’m not willing to work hard at something. Just got to be actually worth the effort.”

Hizashi considers his rather tedious, if not intellectually stimulating job before he became a full time drag queen and entertainer. “Yeah, I get that feeling,” he says sincerely.

“What do you want to do,” Aizawa asks suddenly. His questions rarely sound like questions, more like statements that expect an answer. “Tonight, that is.”

“Well- we could do whatever! I’m chill with whatever, man,” Hizashi grins. “I’m not really into formal dinners and stuff,” Aizawa says simply.

How refreshingly honest.

“That’s cool! I like them but I also like just doing jack-shit and drinking a couple of beers, too. Whatever floats your boat, my dude!” “Doing jack-shit and drinking beers sounds good,” Aizawa admits with a smile.

And what a nice smile it is. It immediately takes Hizashi back to when their eyes first met back at Club Hero. It makes his stomach squirm, in a way that’s not exactly nice but not bad either.

From there, they make their way to the nearest supermarket, finding beers and a couple of snacks, all the while Hizashi chattering about himself and sharing his entire life story. It’s one thing to be a chatterbox in normal circumstances, but when he’s nervous, it’s an entirely different ballgame. Most people find it a little amusing, always overwhelming, and sometimes annoying. Aizawa, however, mildly picks up ready-to-eat gyoza and listens with the occasional nod or ‘mm’.

It would be easy to feel judged in this sort of situation. Hizashi is used to feeling judged- more often than not, it’s water off a duck’s back. Sometimes it isn’t.

Aizawa doesn’t seem the judgemental type.

There’s a park a couple of minutes down the road, past the bars that are beginning to overflow with customers and past the traffic jams. It’s a large green with a water fountain, the type that children play in in the afternoons- running through jets of water and screeching in delight. Now, it’s fairly quiet, all except for the occasional young couple or jogger. Parks are nice and all, but Hizashi is wearing a nice outfit, elements of which he has to return to his friends after tonight, so he’s not sure how much he wants to sit on the grass and possibly stain his clothes. Especially if there are insects, which there almost certainly are around here.

This is the precise reason why Hizashi hesitates, cocking his hip and crossing his arms in front of his chest, trying to figure out how to break it to this man that he’s an absolute princess when it comes to nature.

Aizawa peers up at him. A lock of hair in front of his face and the look in his dark eyes softening in amusement.

“Do you want to sit on my jacket,” he suggests.

Hizashi whines in complaint, shuffling on the spot and sighing to himself. He wants to say yes, but he also doesn’t want to make him-

Oh, Hizashi thinks, as he sees Aizawa wordlessly shrugging off his jacket and laying it on the bleached dry summer grass.

“There. Better?” he adds drily.

Somehow, Hizashi enjoys the teasing tone.

They sit side by side on the grass (and the jacket) watching the sun set behind the buildings. The taste of beer on Hizashi’s tongue and the fizz mixing with nerves in his stomach. The sweet floral scent of mochi as he licks the sticky sugar off his fingers. And the feeling of a man sitting next to him, a man unlike any other that he’s known. A man quietly confident, quietly calming, quietly kind. A man with a sharp tongue and tired eyes and a straightforward, unashamed honesty that he’s never come across before.

When the stars come out- barely visible through the city lights and pollution, but still there- they don’t question how long they have been there. They don’t consider that this first date is going on for quite a while, a lot longer than the usual, at least. What’s the point in overthinking it?

Hizashi’s mind has never felt quieter.

“It sort of started because Nemuri runs Club Hero, and I kinda- accidentally stumbled into commentating,” Hizashi explains, looking up at the sky on his back, glasses off. He feels Aizawa’s arm stretched beside his, not quite touching, but close. Close enough that his skin tingles. “And then you started doing drag.” “Yeah. I can’t actually remember why I thought I’d give it a go, putting on the wig and the heels and stuff. It was probably given a makeover. Those bitches will jump at the chance to give someone a drag makeover.” For a moment, Aizawa considers this. “Do you like being on stage?” Hizashi laughs. “Ho yeah. I’m a bit of a slut for picking up a microphone and just. Chatting shit. The fact that people actually pay to hear me talk and being a total weirdo is- like- it’s still too good to be true.” “It must be freeing.” “Yeah. I guess it is. It’s a way of sorta… channeling a part of myself that I don’t get to show everyday. Or at least, that people don’t appreciate when I look like this.”

He sees Aizawa turn his head towards him in his peripheral. Hizashi’s too afraid to look back, in case he ruins the moment. It’s nice enough just being looked at like this.

“Not everyone’s brave enough to be themselves like that. On stage.” “Nah. I guess not.” Hizashi snorts, thinking back on the night Aizawa had shamelessly thrown his boss under the bus. “You don’t seem to hold back much, either.” “Life’s too short to care what everyone else thinks.” Hizashi finally turns to measure Aizawa. There’s a gentle look in his eye, but his brows are furrowed, as if in deep thought.

“You’d make an epic drag queen, dude,” Hizashi says seriously.

At first he seems a little taken aback. Then a huge, almost frightening grin. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”

“Yo, are you serious? Rule number one of being a queen is not caring what the haters say. Just doing you!”

“Hm,” Aizawa hums in consideration. He rolls his head back to look up at the sky, and Hizashi lets his eyes linger on the shape of his profile, the dip of his adam’s apple a little longer than he should. They both stare at the stars, in no particular rush to go anywhere else.

Hizashi brushes his pinky finger against Aizawa’s, and slowly, uncertainly, they link hands.

#my writing #erasermic #bnha #drag au #fic prompt

80 notes · View notes

whitebear-ofthe-watertribe · 6 years

Text

That Which Holds Us - Chapter 4

Pairing(s): Adrien / Marinette, Nino / Alya

Summary: It has been several months since Ladybug and Chat Noir discovered their true identities. Now that they are not trapped by secrets, they can finally be their full selves around each other and have never been closer. Marinette is going into her final year at university, Adrien is exploring new classes and passions, and their friends Alya and Nino seem to be moving towards a happy future together. It all feels like things could not be better.

But of course, nothing in life is quite so perfect.

When Adrien starts having vivid nightmares and visions about his mother, old questions begin to resurface. Will he be able to find the answers, or will these ghosts from the past tear apart the heroes of Paris for good?

Reminder, you can also read / follow this fic at AO3 here, and FF.net here.

Previous Chapters

Chapter Word Count: 7,802

Enjoy!!!

The first couple weeks of school had ushered in a gentle change in the weather. Gone was the blazing heat of Summer. Now, the nights were cool, and the days not too warm. The late afternoon sun filtered through the still-green leaves of the trees on the Quad, dappling the ground with soft light.

Adrien let out a massive yawn. He was seated near a tall open window in the campus library. His computer and a couple large textbooks were spread out on the desk before him. Barely into the semester and he’d already managed to collect quite the stack of homework. Plus, he’d been tasked a massive project of working with the CEOs of Valentino to make sure their visions for the upcoming winter shows were catered to. And on top of everything else, his father had insisted he play no small part in the event planning for the evening’s party, despite the fact that he was supposed to only be working part-time.

Adrien was worn out.

With a sigh, he hunched back over one of the books, trying to find the line he’d just read so as to get the quote right for his essay. Staring at the page, it took him several moments to realize he’d skimmed right over the line. Giving his head a little shake, he refocused on the words and mouthed them as he typed them out.

He paused again as another yawn took hold, his vision blearing a little. Leaning back in his chair, he looked out the window, watching people make their way up the wide paths. A guy was throwing a frisbee across the open space, and his large dog loped happily after it. A couple people lounged under the towering trees, napping in the grass. Birds were chirping softly high above.

Adrien’s hair tickled his forehead in the soft breeze that floated through the window. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling. Maybe he should rest, just for a short break. He was so tired. His breathing slowed to a gentle rhythm.

And all else faded away.

He was running.

His lungs were burning. The effort of each breath was a fight all on its own.

Darkness surrounded him. He stared around, frantically trying to find one tiny pinprick of light. Something. Anything.

But there was nothing. An endless horizon of absolute nothing.

On he ran. Desperate. There had to be a way out.

The darkness was suffocating.

He had to escape.

“Adrien?”

The voice pierced his heart. He came to a halt, gasping for breath. Turning, he saw her, glowing a soft, deep blue as if the light came from within.

The only light he could see in the sea of darkness.

His mother.

“Mom?”

“My love, can you hear me? I’ve missed you.”

“Mom please, what can I do?” he begged.

He tried to move towards her. But his feet stayed put. He couldn’t move.

The darkness was swallowing him up.

“Adrien please come home. Please save me, you must save me!”

“Mom!” he cried, struggling frantically. “Mom what do I do!”

He tried to claw his way forward. She reached out her arms to him, as if to embrace him. But she didn’t come closer.

“Please Adrien, help me! HELP ME!”

She was screaming.

The nothingness was devouring him. He struggled against it, but he couldn’t move. He could barely breathe.

“Adrien! ADRIEN SAVE ME!”

Her screams echoed like they were in a vast hall. They didn’t fade away. They grew and grew, filling the empty space. He was being smothered, crushed under the weight of the oppressive darkness.

“No! Mom no! Please!”

The screams built in his head. There was nothing else. Only nothingness and the screaming, screaming, screaming.

“No!”

He felt like his skull would shatter from the pressure.

“NO!”

Adrien jerked awake, startled by his own shout. His heart was pounding in his ears, and beads of cold sweat were running down the back of his neck.

Looking around, it took him a moment to regain his bearings. No longer was he surrounded by the oppressive darkness. The soft light coming through the windows felt almost blinding in comparison.

A few people were peeking out at him from around bookshelves and over desk dividers. One of his neighbors muttered, “Dude, it’s not even midterms yet. Chill.”

Surreptitiously, Plagg poked his head out from one of the small pockets in Adrien’s bag.

Adrien glanced at him, knowing they both had felt that darkness.

Reaching his shaking hands up to cover his face, Adrien tried desperately to slow his breathing, which had been coming out in ragged gasps as if he’d just finished battling an Akuma.

‘It was a dream. It’s just another dream. It’s not real.’

A buzzing vibrated through his desk, making him jump.

Looking around, he saw his phone lighting up with an incoming call. Letting out a harsh breath and mentally shaking himself a little, he reached out to pick it up. Marinette’s picture filled the screen. He pressed the green button and put the phone to his ear.

“Hey,” he said quietly, grimacing a little when his voice had a bit of rasp, as if he really had been screaming.

“Hey,” she said, and her voiced echoed weirdly. “I’m just about to jump in the shower and get ready for tonight. I wanted to make sure you were still coming by later to eat some real food before we go over there?”

Adrien realized that she must be on speakerphone in her bathroom.

“Um, yeah. Yeah absolutely, I’ll be there.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear to check the time. He must’ve fallen asleep for longer than he’d thought. The shadows in the library had lengthened somewhat. There were only a couple hours until the two of them were expected at the Agreste manor.

“You ok?” he heard Marinette said after a short pause and he returned the phone to his ear.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“No, it’s nothing, it’s just… I dunno, you sound a little off.”

“Hm,” he grunted. “I’m fine, I just dozed off without meaning to.”

“You haven’t been getting enough rest, huh?” she said.

“Uh-uh. Actually, thanks for calling, or else I might’ve slept right through the party.”

“Ugh, and abandoned me to the wolves? How rude.”

“I know,” he smiled a little, using his free arm to gather up his things and shuffle them into his bag. “Terribly ungentlemanly of me.”

“We don’t have to go, you know,” Marinette offered.

Adrien raised an eyebrow, even though she couldn’t see him.

“Oh? And how would we manage that?”

“Well, if you’re already tired then you shouldn’t push it, especially when we have Nino’s gig tomorrow. We could just… say something came up, and stay home and just chill for the night. We’d put on a movie and order in, I could draw, you could take a cat nap… We could just... relax?”

He had to admit, she made something so simple sound incredibly enticing.

“Plagg would love that,” he grinned. “But I think we’ve already committed to tonight. They’re officially expecting us, now.”

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” she sighed, her tone serious.

He frowned.

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have just accepted Monsieur Agreste’s request like that without talking with you first.”

“You’re still worried about that?” Adrien paused in cleaning off his desk. “Please tell me you haven’t been beating yourself up about it this whole time?”

“I mean…” Marinette groaned. “Yeah? Kind of? I know how touchy things are between you two, I just didn’t know how to… say no.”

“He has that sort of effect on people,” Adrien said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and setting off between the towering bookcases. “Don’t worry about it, Mar. He would’ve found a way to make me come whether you’d been there or not. He’s been putting the pressure on for months.”

“I know, but still…”

“I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault,” he said gently, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If anything, I’m just glad you’ll be with me for it. At least now I’m guaranteed to have one person there that I like to talk to.”

“…You sure?”

“Sure that I like to talk to you? Well, I mean I don’t think we could’ve been such good partners all these years if you bored me.”

“Ha ha. Very funny, Kitty.” He heard a soft rumbling and guessed that she’d just turned on the water. “You know what I meant.”

“It’s alright, Marinette. You did nothing wrong.”

“Kay,” she sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Mar.”

“I’m sorr– okay.”

“It’ll all be fine, alright?”

“Yeah, sorry, it will.”

“Marinette!”

“I’m sorry aH! SORRY! I CAN’T MAKE IT STOP!”

Adrien let out a bark of laughter and shot his free hand up to cover his mouth, muffling the noise as he hurried past the reception desks.

A librarian threw him an irritable look at his outburst.

“I’ll see you in a bit then?” she asked.

“Yep.” He kept smiling despite himself as he pushed open the library doors and made his way down the stone steps. “Let’s get this slow torture over with.”

The time from when Adrien left campus to the start of the party seemed to fly by. All at once, he found himself dressed in an elegant suit and tie standing beside Marinette in front of his old family home. Taking in a deep breath, he steeled himself to enter the house he hadn’t seen the inside of in years.

Marinette reached over to him and wrapped her warm, reassuring fingers between his.

He looked down at her and found that her small encouraging smile gave him the strength he needed to step forward onto the property.

Arm in arm, they made their way into the crowd of guests that stood under the glowing lights that criss-crossed overhead. Adrien thought it made the place seem warmer than he knew it to be. A dozen cocktail tables had been set up throughout the courtyard; waitstaff wearing dark red vests mingled around, carrying trays of everything from drinks to appetizers. Rhythmic melodies wafted from speakers scattered about the garden, controlled by a DJ off in one corner.

Adrien was forcibly reminded of when Nino had been at those exact turntables all those years ago, Akumatized as the Bubbler for his birthday.

The people were dressed in beautiful attire, as one would expect at a party hosted by one of the most highly esteemed fashion designers in the world. While some men wore classic black and white tuxes, many had forgone the traditional in favor of more bold designs with bright colors and patterns. The women were even more splendid, wearing elegant dresses in all the styles and hues one could imagine – and in some cases, even more fabulous suits than the men. Many people danced along to the music. Everyone seemed to be glittering under the lights and stars above.

Marinette let out a soft gasp, and Adrien turned to see her taking it all in with her mouth hanging open in awe.

He grinned as he watched her. If he wasn’t so tense about being in this place again, he would’ve been permanently star-struck by his Lady.

She had pulled her dark hair back into a sleek ponytail. A long silver chain hung around her neck and shimmered with tiny crystals as it traveled down the plunging neckline of her midnight blue dress. Floor length and long sleeved, it clung tightly to her body and flowed down into a short train that brushed along the ground. Her hem was embroidered with thousands of tiny silver stars that mirrored the night sky.

If he was to be perfectly honest, the longer he gazed at her, the less he could remember how to breathe properly.

“How are you feeling?” Marinette said quietly, turning to look at him.

“I’m fine,” he shrugged.

“At least this is just for an evening, right?” she offered. “And tomorrow you can guarantee that we’ll see people we enjoy, and you won’t have to worry about anything else.”

Adrien smiled.

“Trying to keep my mind on the positive, huh?” he chided with a smirk.

“Is it working?”

“A little, but now I’m just thinking of how much I’d rather be there now.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and stood on her tiptoes to give him a swift kiss.

“Well, if it isn’t two of my favorite people!” came a rumbling voice, and Adrien looked around to see a tall man with dark skin and long braided hair making his way towards them, beaming.

“Izzy, you’re here!” Marinette exclaimed happily, moving forward and releasing Adrien’s hand to be drawn into a tight hug.

“Of course!” Izzy said, moving to pull Adrien into a hug as well. “You don’t think Monsieur Agreste would neglect to invite his best material supplier, would you?”

“He’d be mad if he did,” Adrien said, relaxing a bit more in the presence of a familiar friend.

“So, how’s that new design project coming along, Mar?” Izzy asked. “Do you have a murder on your hands yet?”

Marinette let out a strangled noise, throwing her hands up in the air dramatically.

“Oh no, don’t get her started Izzy,” Adrien chuckled, reaching his arm around her shoulders.

“It’s absolutely ridiculous!” she exclaimed. “He’s behaving better than I think he ever has, but that’s not saying much. He’s still an absolute ass, and I hate that he’s such a good designer, because half the time just being near him makes me want to smack him!”

“Ah, so the fact that no one is dead yet in this situation means it’s going well, hm?” someone asked, and they turned to see one of Adrien’s work partners, Zacharias, coming their way while balancing four glasses of champagne for them.

“I mean, we’ve made it further than I thought we would without me throwing my pincushion at him, so yeah I think it’s going alright,” Marinette laughed, taking one of the glasses from him and standing on tiptoes to place a swift kiss on his cheek.

Ever since Adrien and Marinette had started dating, she and Zacharias had gotten along swimmingly, and would often share their designs with one another for feedback.

Taking his own drink from his friend, Adrien tilted his head back and downed it all in one swig. He put the empty glass on the tray of a waiter that was floating by while simultaneously grabbing another. Turning back to the conversation, he caught Marinette’s eye. Her eyebrow twitched ever so slightly, and he picked up on her concern. Nodding apologetically, he sipped more slowly at the second champagne.

“Señor Adrien!” someone called out.

Looking up, Adrien saw Valentino’s CEO, his assistant, and several executive editors making their way towards him. His stomach plummeted as he moved forward to greet them. It was their project that had been causing him more stress at work than he’d had to deal with in quite some time.

He had not been aware they would be attending his father’s party.

“How wonderful to see you all,” Adrien said welcomingly, putting on as natural an air as possible. “It is an honor to have you all visiting this weekend.”

“The pleasure is all ours, my dear boy,” one of the editors said, flashing him a smile. “We wouldn’t miss meeting with you in person after you have put so much work into our account.”

“You give me too much credit, Madame,” Adrien offered her a nod, before turning to reach for Marinette’s hand and pulling her into the conversation. Marinette was the only one who caught sight of the mildly panicked look he flashed her before turning back to the group.

“May I introduce my partner, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist, more for her stable support than anything else. “She is in her final year at the International Fashion Academy.”

Marinette accepted the hand of the CEO, who put it to his lips for a swift kiss.

“Delighted, Señorita,” he said. “I am sure we are all looking forward to seeing the work you will produce. Anyone whom Señor Agreste approves of must be an exceptional talent.”

“Th-thank you very much!” Marinette stammered.

Adrien saw that her cheeks had gone bright red. Catching her eye, he grinned.

“Now Adrien,” the CEO continued. “I do hope you will join us tomorrow morning for a meeting? I believe it would be incredibly valuable to go over some of these plans with you in person.”

“Oh…” Adrien was rather taken aback by this. He usually made a point to avoid working on weekends if he could help it – there were already more than enough commitments on his plate without it – but there would be no way out of this.

“Of course,” he said, quickly reattaching his smile. “I would be entirely pleased to make some time for you.”

“Excellent,” the CEO nodded approvingly and held his hand out for Adrien to shake once more. “Then we shall see you in the morning. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Señor Agreste.”

“You as well,” Adrien bowed a little as the group carried on to another table.

“I will send the schedule your way immediately, Señor Agreste,” the assistant said as she trailed after them.

Turning back to Marinette, Adrien groaned and lowered his head pathetically onto her shoulder.

“Feeling a little sorry for ourselves, are we?” she asked, and he could hear the amusement in her tone.

“Extremely,” he said, his own voice becoming muffled as he leaned into her. “Nothing like taking an already busy weekend and replacing any time I had to sleep in with work meetings.”

“Is there anything I can help with?” Zacharias offered.

Adrien shrugged, lifting his head away from Marinette to glance at him.

“I doubt it. They have all been very particular about wanting me exclusively, though who the hell knows why.”

“It’s because you’re good,” Marinette said, grinning up.

“Zacharias is good,” Adrien grumbled.

“Yeah, but you have the name to go with it,” Zacharias pointed out.

Adrien turned to him with a small frown, but he knew that Zacharias was right.

They had spoken openly about this before. There had been a time when Zacharias had resented Adrien for the privilege that came with the reputation of his namesake. But over their years of working together, Adrien had made it clear how much he refused to use his father’s power for anything. He had also pushed the hardest for Zacharias to get into his current higher position in the Agreste company, and as they had gotten to know each other and work together, they had become good friends.

If Adrien had his way, he would turn any and all of his power within the company to Zacharias. He certainly had earned it.

“Oh, cheer up, Adrien,” Izzy said, patting him heartily on the back. “It’ll only be a few hours of meetings. You don’t have to worry about it like you’re saving the world or anything.”

“You’re right, that’s just my night job,” Adrien said, and they all laughed.

He exchanged the briefest of smirks with Marinette. Oh, if only they knew…

The four of them found their way to a corner of the courtyard and continued discussing Marinette’s semester assignment, enjoying the various appetizers that came their way. From time to time, people that Adrien and Zacharias had worked with on various projects came up to say hello.

Adrien was feeling significantly calmer. If the evening was to consist mostly of making conversation with people he genuinely liked, he began to hope that the party might not be so uncomfortable as he’d been dreading.

“Good evening, Adrien,” someone said behind him, and he turned to find his father’s assistant, Nathalie, looking as prim and professional as ever.

“Hello Nathalie,” he replied, offering her a smile. “Everything is going well, I trust?”

“As well as it can,” she said, nodding. “I wanted to inform you that dinner is about to begin in the main banquet hall for those in higher standings with the company. I must go and check in on the head chef to confirm that we are ready to proceed. Your father is presently in a meeting with some of the executives.”

“Business as usual,” Adrien sighed.

It was another element of his father’s events that he’d always hated; the “higher-ups” would dine with his father on obscenely expensive cuisine, while all the other guests were left outside to their party. It was just another way to sew division. Though on some level, he could never really decide which group of guests had the true short end of the stick.

“Indeed,” Nathalie continued, unphased by his tone. “Would you please go to his office and let him know that he must be in the banquet hall to welcome the rest of his guests with an opening toast soon?”

Adrien’s jaw clenched with a slight pang of irritation. He’d been hoping to keep the interactions with his father to a minimum. All the tension that had been ebbing away with the help of Marinette and their friends came rushing back to him. But instead of letting it show, he simply nodded to Nathalie.

“I will inform him shortly,” he said.

Nathalie nodded, and turned to disappear through the sea of guests.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Marinette said softly, putting her hand on his shoulder.

Adrien shook his head. Wrapping his own hand around hers, he kissed her fingers gently.

“No, it’s ok,” he said. “You keep catching up with Izzy and Zacharias. I won’t be long.”

“Alright,” she said, giving his fingers a squeeze before letting him go.

Adrien wove his way through the party and climbed the stairs up to the large front doors, which stood open. Inside was filled with nearly as many people as there were outside. Glancing around the entrance hall, he noticed that nothing much had changed since he’d moved out. He had refrained from stepping foot in this place ever since, considering it a freedom to be rid of the confining walls and enforced solitude of his boyhood. Being back now brought on a flood of long-buried memories, and he shook his head a little to clear his mind.

He beelined towards the doors of his father’s study. Knocking softly, he turned one of the knobs and stepped inside.

Gabriel was pouring over his desks with a handful of the company executives. All of them were dressed as splendidly as the party-goers outside. One of them was talking about something to do with how the Fall Collection was being received.

Adrien cleared his throat loudly, causing them all to look up. “

I’m terribly sorry to interrupt,” he said formally, putting on an apologetic smile. “I wanted to inform you all that dinner is about to begin.”

“Thank you, dear Adrien!” said one of the women whom Adrien recognized from the long years she and his father had worked together. “You are very right to pull us away. This evening is about letting loose a bit and celebrating, after all!”

Everyone murmured their agreement, thanking Adrien as they moved towards the door. Some shook his hand or kissed his cheeks in greeting.

Gabriel was the only one who remained in place, watching him.

“Father, Nathalie just asked me to remind you of the welcoming toast you are supposed to give.”

“Thank you, Adrien,” his father said, gathering everything up off his desk and storing it away. “I appreciate you coming to tell me. Somehow the evening has grown later than I’d realized.”

Adrien nodded, but as he turned to leave, he caught sight of the Miraculous Grimoire sitting on one of the smaller tables. He paused, staring at it, and wondered for the umpteenth time where exactly his father had gotten ahold of it. He had always suspected if Gabriel had any real knowledge of the true powers it held within.

Gabriel followed his gaze and moved to pick up the book.

“I trust you and Mlle. Dupain-Cheng are enjoying yourselves?” he asked, moving across the office to the Gustav Klimt style portrait of Adrien’s mother, and pulling it forward to access the safe hidden behind.

“Yes, it seems everyone is having a good time.” Adrien followed his father slowly, watching while he entered the code to the safe. “It’s nice to see the house so full of life again.”

“Yes, well…” Gabriel sighed, opening the safe door and placing the book and several other documents onto its shelves, beside a photograph of Adrien’s mother. “It’s still a lot of work to try and please so many people. I find it rather exhausting to be honest, but I suppose it’s necessary to keep the company happy.”

Adrien grunted noncommittally in response, and was turning to leave once again when a flash of blue within the safe caught his eye. He shot out his arm, blocking his father from closing the door.

Gabriel looked him in mild curiosity, but Adrien ignored him.

It had been years since he’d seen inside the safe for himself. When he was a boy, he’d had no reason to find the small jeweled peacock significant… but he knew that jewel, now. He’d just seen it while leafing through Master Fu’s copy of the Grimoire a few weeks earlier. Made out of turquoise and azure glass, the jewel reflected the lights in a way that made it seem almost alive. Almost magical. And all at once, Adrien knew exactly what it was.

His father was in possession of the Peafowl Miraculous.

Adrien stared at it in utter amazement. It was impossible. How on earth could his father of all people have something so precious? So dangerous?

Without thinking, Adrien reached out his hand and lifted the Miraculous off the shelf. It was strangely warm for something that had been sitting unhandled in a cold safe.

“It was your mother’s,” Gabriel said, his voice making Adrien look up in surprise. Gabriel was watching him closely, his expression guarded and unreadable. “She left it behind when she… when she disappeared.”

“Where did she get this?” Adrien asked uncertainly.

Did his father know of it’s true power? Had his mother known? Was it really possible that his mother had been, like himself, a Miraculous wielder?

“Tibet,” Gabriel said. “In the same place I got my book of… inspiration.”

Adrien glanced at the Grimoire. Beside it lay a stack of travel documents he hadn’t noticed before, as well as a book on traveling through Tibet.

“Apparently, it is an ancient Chinese artifact. One of a kind and very, very valuable. It was one of your mother’s greatest treasures.”

“But she didn’t take it with her when she… left?”

Gabriel pondered him.

Adrien looked back at him searchingly.

After a long moment, Gabriel sighed and held his hand out for the Miraculous.

Adrien hesitated. He knew that he should get the jewel back to Master Fu as soon as possible, restoring it to the safe care and protection of the Guardian. But he couldn’t just take it from his father. Something that had been so dear to his mother would never be relinquished easily, and to steal it would raise all kinds of concern and attention…

Finally, after what felt like a moment of eternity, he released his hold on the Miraculous, and Gabriel returned it to the safe.

Locking the door and repositioning the large painting to hide it, Gabriel took a step back to look up into Adrien’s mother’s eyes.

Adrien stood beside him, regarding the painting as well.

“When Emilie disappeared, it was the most painful day of my life,” Gabriel said suddenly.

Adrien looked around at his father in astonishment; it had been years since he’d heard his mother’s name spoken out loud.

“It was… as if she’d taken half of my heart, half of my very soul with her. I didn’t know where to go, what to do… I…”

He paused, unable to make the words come to him.

Adrien hadn’t seen his father like this since he was a child. It was like the cold and aloof demeanor had suddenly cracked, and he could actually catch a glimpse of the man his father used to be. For that brief moment, he felt the urge to comfort his father in the same way he’d wished anyone had comforted him when he’d been in pain all those years ago.

Reaching his hand up, he placed it hesitantly on his father’s shoulder.

“I’ve done everything in my power to… find her.” Gabriel continued. “To bring her back home, for both our sakes. But every time I get close to the answer, it’s stolen away.”

His hands balled into fists as he said this, and suddenly the aching sadness was replaced with an incredible fury that caused Adrien to actually step back, flinching his hand away from his father as though he’d been burned.

A strange energy hung in the air, a darkness that made Adrien feel like he was back inside one of his nightmares.

The screams of his mother echoed through his mind.

All at once, the atmosphere around his father had shifted, and any hint of emotion from what they had been speaking of vanished. Gone was any shadow of the father Adrien had spent so much of his life longing for. He was Monsieur Gabriel Agreste once again, as cold and rigid as the polished marble that filled the mansion in which they stood.

“Enough of this, Adrien,” Gabriel said, his voice hard as he turned to leave his office. “We have a party to attend.”

He stopped and waited by the large doors, holding them open.

After a moment, Adrien followed him, his mind racing. But just as he stepped past his father, he heard a disturbance halfway down the grand staircase. Security was converging on several guests that were harassing a mortified looking waiter. One of them had his fist clenched on the waiter’s shirt collar.

Gabriel stiffened.

Looking at him, Adrien saw a strange gleam come into his father’s eyes. It sent a chill down his spine.

“Please inform Nathalie that I will be with our guests shortly,” Gabriel said, a strange note in his voice. “There is one last thing I must attend to… it should not take long, I’m sure, and the guests are well enough entertained without me there for another moment or two.”

And with that, Gabriel swept back into his office and shut the doors with a snap, leaving Adrien outside.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head and turned to find Marinette waiting just inside the large entrance doors, looking unsure.

When she spotted him, she smiled with relief and hurried to his side.

“I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do,” she said, wrapping her arm through his. “Some people were moving into the banquette hall, some were staying outside, I dunno. Zacharias introduced me to a few of those lead designers your father was talking about, so that’s exciting! I was more nervous than I thought I’d be, though. They said they would keep an eye on me and my work this year, like that’s more pressure I need right now… Hey...”

She paused her nervous rambling finally to peer up at him. “You look even more stressed out than before. Like you’ve seen a ghost or something… Are you ok?”

“I… I don’t know,” he said, staring unseeingly out into the crowd of guests in the courtyard.

He had no idea what to feel.

“What happened in there?” Marinette asked, serious now.

But before he could answer, they were shoved to the side by the boisterous group from the stairs who were being ushered outside by security. One of them – a sour man Adrien recognized as an agent from past photoshoots – was dabbing a handkerchief to a dark wine-red stain that was blossoming over his pale, snakeskin patterned vest. He seemed rather tipsy as he loudly exclaiming something about “… the audacity of it all, they should fire that imbecilic waiter on the spot!”

Marinette threw a frown at the man, but otherwise ignored them, pulling Adrien out of their way. They were now in one of the hall’s corners, hidden behind a tall marble pillar.

Adrien leaned against it.

“Ok, now tell me,” Marinette demanded, her hands holding his face gently as she gazed up at him in concern.

“I… I don’t even know where to begin…” Adrien’s mind was still reeling. “Marinette, listen… you’re never gonna believe this but –”

A piercing scream from just outside cut him off.

They both whipped their heads around to stare in the direction of the doors. There were shouts of confusing coming from the courtyard, and then another scream came. And another.

Exchanging glances, Adrien and Marinette rushed out from behind the pillar and hurried to the double doors to look out over the courtyard.

The scene that met them was utter chaos.

Guests were running and crying out in terror. Several cocktail tables had been knocked over. A throng had gathered at the front gate as people tried desperately to get off the Agreste premises, away from an Akuma that was laughing drunkenly in the midst of it all.

Adrien, having just witnessed the scene inside, recognized the agent that had been escorted out by security moments before.

The man – though he could hardly be called that now – had grown to be several feet taller, his legs fused together and elongated into the horrible, pale white body of a giant snake. Wine-red scales made patterns down to the tip of his tail. He still had the use of his arms, though his head had grown a cobra’s hood, and his face stretched into a wide, flat snout.

“You can run, but you can’t hide from the Beau Constrictor!” the Akuma said, laughing again as he lashed out at the people sprinting past him. There was an undercurrent of hissing with every word he spoke.

Adrien and Marinette exchanged a swift nod.

Marinette rush off, soaring lithely over the railing of the front steps to find, as Adrien knew, a place to transform.

Adrien stayed where he was.

“Everyone inside, NOW!” he shouted, pulling one of the heavy entrance doors closed with a boom and ushering the nearest guests into the hall through the other. “Take cover! Get out of range!”

People followed his instructions without hesitation. Those nearest to him raced up the steps to hurry inside. Others sprinted around the corners of the mansion. He hoped they would have enough sense to find refuge through the side doors below.

His shouts had earned the Akuma’s attention, and Adrien narrowed his eyes as he searched for where the vile butterfly might have lodged itself… There. The vest the man had been futilely trying to rid of the spilled wine was still donned over his torso.

The Akuma’s tail flashed forward and snatched up one of the guests, who shrieked in fright. He began coiling himself tightly around her body. In the span of half a second, he had her bound.

Adrien watched in horror, unable to move fast enough to save her as the creature unhinged his jaw to reveal razor sharp fangs, preparing to bite.

“Hey!” Adrien heard a familiar voice shout, and looking around, he saw Ladybug swing into the courtyard and land upon the DJ’s platform. “This is a private party, and I’m fairly certain they wouldn’t add a slimy, overgrown reptile to the list!”

“Don’t you know?” the Beau Constrictor hissed, lowering his victim as he turned. “Insects are a main food source for snakes.”

“Well, I plan to be nobody’s meal tonight,” Ladybug retorted, launching herself forward to prevent the snake from biting any more people.

Adrien turned away from the fight then, hurrying down the stone steps to dive behind one of the thick shrubberies that lined the edge of the property.

“Let’s do this Plagg,” he said as his Kwami emerged from an inner jacket pocket to hover before him.

“Does this mean no more party hors d'oeuvres?” Plagg asked grumpily, but Adrien ignored his quip.

“Transforme moi!”

The electric current coursed along his skin, and in a flash of green light, Chat Noir leapt out of hiding. He could not afford to give more thought to what he’d just seen in his father’s office. He had to focus on what was happening now.

Drawing his staff into his hands, he sped across the courtyard.

Ladybug was swinging around the Akuma, staying just out of his reach as he thrashed around to catch her. His massive tail had collided with one of the outer walls, creating enormous cracks along the stone.

“Mind if I slither in?” Chat called.

Wielding his staff in a great arc above his head, he brought it down with a sharp crack on the serpent’s tail.

The Akuma howled in pain.

Chat dove out of the way as the Akuma bared his fangs and struck at him, lightning fast. He missed him by inches.

“Sir, why don’t we just try to calm down?” Chat called, finally cracking a smile as he rolled to his feet and took another shot at the monster. “Let’s not ruin such a lovely evening! How’s about we just k-hiss and make up, huh?”

Letting out a snarl of rage, the Beau Constrictor finally snatched hold of Ladybug’s arm.

She let out a yelp of pain as he twisted and launched her towards the trunk of a tree. Before the collision, she managed to catch onto one of the tree’s branches.

“Now now, no need to throw a hissy fit!” Chat quipped as he flew towards the Akuma and managed to land a satisfying hit on his jaw.

Spitting angrily, the Akuma reeled from the pain, his tail whipping around.

“Scum!” the Beau Constrictor hissed bitterly as Chat landed beside Ladybug. “I don’t know what I expected from a couple pathetic idiots who waste all their time defending the most worthless people of Paris.”

“Nobody is worthless,” Ladybug called, her yo-yo whirring as she paced towards him. “No one deserves to be taken advantage of!”

Chat flanked around to the other side, watching for her to give a signal.

“On the contrary, pest,” the Akuma snarled. “Some people just aren’t made to have power. They are made to serve those with power. If there were no one beneath me, the system would fall apart.”

“Yeah, your system of suppression,” she snapped, and Chat heard genuine irritation in her tone. “Monsieur, I think you need to take a long, hard look at who you consider to be beneath you. Because from where I’m standing, someone who takes pleasure in hurting others is right there at the bottom of the barrel.”

“Then for now, I’ll just take my pleasure in hurting you,” he said, slithering towards her, his revolting mouth curving into a smile that made Chat’s skin crawl. “And maybe later, I’m sure there are other ways I can get my pleasure.”

“That’s disgusting,” Chat said, gagging. “I swear, the way men behave these days to make up for their ereptile dysfunction is just pathetic.”

Ladybug shot an amused look in his direction.

“Come on, chaton,” she called, rolling her eyes. “Let’s just skin this snake and move on with our evening, shall we?”

“With pleasure! Oh no, he really ruined that word for me now…”

Shuddering, Chat sped forward, dodging around the massive tail to reach for the cursed vest.

The Beau Constrictor twisted out of his reach, snapping his fangs at him.

Chat deflected the bite with a kick. He rebounded and whirled through the air before landing on the cobblestone.

A flash of glowing blue caught his eye as he turned back around to face the monster. Whipping his head around in surprise, though, he saw nothing.

‘Strange,’ he thought, frowning as he turned back to the fight. ‘I could’ve sworn I saw –’

“Chat, look out!” Ladybug cried.

Once more, he dove to the side just in time, the Akuma’s razer teeth barely missing him.

He reeled back, shaking his head to rid it of whatever he thought he’d seen.

Ladybug flung her yo-yo out and managed to wrap it around the Akuma’s wrist. She yanked him towards her, using the force of his momentum to land a fresh blow across his wretched face.

He retaliated quickly. Before she could dodge away, his scaly tail slammed her in the chest. She landed flat on her back, winded.

Chat winced on her behalf. Using his staff, he blocked the tail from hitting her a second time.

“Snake it off, M’lady,” Chat called as he danced out of the Akuma’s way, leading him further from where she was struggling to her feet.

She shot him a withering glare.

“Seriously?!” she wheezed.

“Oh please, that was hisss-terical and you know it.”

“Just focus on the Akuma!”

Allowing himself a smirk, he quickly chose another point to target, hoping to give Ladybug the in she needed to snatch up the vest.

The Beau Constrictor lunged at him.

Chat raised his staff, blocking the Akuma’s bite. His fangs glanced off the metal with a clang. Driving the end of the staff into the ground, Chat swung up and kicked at the Akuma’s shoulder.

He dodged and landed a hit to Chat’s ribs.

Chat grimaced, retaliating with his own quick jab, holding the Akuma’s attention.

Seeing what he was doing, Ladybug rallied herself and took a running leap forward. She landed on the Akuma’s back, holding on tight as he thrashed around in frustration. He tried to grab her and throw her off, but she dodged away.

Chat crouched down, preparing to spring.

“Adrien…” a familiar voice whispered, right behind him.

“Ah!” Chat let out a yelp, twisting around in shock.

No one was there.

Eyes wide, he gazed around the courtyard. He knew that voice… the voice which had been haunting his dreams… his nightmares… it couldn’t be possible.

“Chat Noir! Are you alright?” Ladybug called to him, flashing him a look of concern as she tried to strongarm the Beau Constrictor from behind with her yo-yo.

Chat shook his head again, trying to clear his mind. A cold sweat had broken out along his skin, and his heart pounded in his chest.

“I – I’m fine!” he called, not entirely convincingly.

He had no time for this. He needed to focus.

As he stepped forward, a piercing scream reached his ears. He froze, a chill running down his spine as it echoed around him. Shadows blurred at the edges of his vision, and he blinked hard, trying to drive them away.

‘What’s happening…?’

He stumbled, trying to focus on the Akuma before him.

“Adrien, save me!”

The voice rang so loudly that he brought his hands up to clench his head. A sharp pain jolted along his knees, and distantly he knew he was no longer standing.

The shadows had engulfed his vision, drowning out everything else around him.

“Please, Adrien! The darkness… it’s too strong!”

The screaming echoed around him, as if it came from every direction.

And suddenly, there she was. Standing before him, surrounded by that brilliant blue glow.

‘This isn’t real,’ he thought desperately. ‘This is just another nightmare, you aren’t here!’

“Chat, what’s wrong?!”

“Help me, Adrien! I can’t escape on my own!”

His mother looked though she were engulfed in blue flames. They licked around her, caressing her skin as she dissolved away into the shadows.

“Save me!”

Her screams grew louder and louder as she was pulled away.

He squoze his eyes shut, willing the reverberations to stop. Every bone in his body felt as if they were shattering.

“Chat Noir, I need your help! What are you doing?!”

The darkness pressed in on him, impenetrable. He was suffocating.

“Adrien!”

The noise was too much. He would die at any moment.

“CHAT!”

“ADRIEN!”

With a roar, Chat Noir raised his clawed hand into the air.

“CATACLYSM!” he yelled, and with a pulse of magic, he brought his fist crashing to the ground.

In an instant, the darkness around him fractured. Blinding light pierced through the shroud.

As if from a great distance, he heard a shout of “Miraculous Ladybug!”

The world came roaring back into focus.

Chat stumbled, shaking his head, trying to clear it of the screams that still echoed through his ears.

The man who had been Akumatized was sitting on the courtyard’s newly mended cobblestones, restored to his normal self and gazing around in bewilderment. His was the only pair of eyes not trained towards Chat Noir.

The guests who had not managed to escape out the front gate – and there were plenty – were staring in his direction. Every face was a mixture of shock and something else. Anger? Disapproval? … Fear?

Many of them had their phones out, recording pictures and videos of everything that had happened.

Ladybug was kneeling beside the Akumatized man, her hand on his back as she murmured gentle words of comfort. Her eyes were on Chat, though, and worry was etched into her face.

Chat stumbled to his feet, his breathing labored as his heart thundered in his chest. He was shaking.

As he stared back at Ladybug, movement at the top of the mansion’s steps caught his eye. He saw his father emerge from the hall within. But Gabriel did not look angry about his grand party being the scene of an attack; on the contrary, his expression was that of intrigue. His hands were clasped behind his back and all at once, Chat felt as though he were a small boy again, stealing himself for his father’s harsh reprimanding.

The familiar, sharp beep-beep of his ring sent a visceral jolt of fear through Chat Noir as he stared into Gabriel’s cold eyes. Without sparing another glance to the crowd surrounding him, he spun on his heel, struck his staff to the ground, and launched high into the cool night air. He did not even look back to see if Ladybug would follow him or stay to help smooth things over.

His feet raced over the rooftops of Paris, as fast as the thoughts that sped through his mind.

His father had a Miraculous in his possession. The Miraculous had belonged to his mother, Emilie. He didn’t know if Gabriel was aware of its true power. He didn’t know if his mother was a wielder.

Of only one thing he was absolutely certain; he needed to consult Master Fu as soon as possible.

Two new chapters in one day?! Aw yeahh!!!

It's a shorter one (compared to my usual standards) but it's packed with a lot of things so there's that! I already had most of this written when I posted Ch 3 earlier, so I figure'd might as well just wrap it up ;) Super pumped to keep sharing this with you guys, it's only gonna get more intense and exciting from here!!!

If you’re reading this after 9/18/2019 this chapter has been HELLA updated and is now twice as long as it was originally! I hope you enjoy this way more, because the story to come is pretty great!!

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fic #abnd fic #twhu fic #ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrinett #ladynoir #ladrien #marichat #adrienette

19 notes · View notes