#like it’s a me problem and part a pride problem but also partly just a

[brontes]

trying to experience the joys (reading for Bible study and learning more about God) but held back by the horrors (the patronizing school tone and thick Christianese of the text is making me grind my teeth)

#samantha.txt #to be clear this is not an actual dig at the author #this is my CONSTANT struggle with study books that aren’t just like…the text #and sometimes I struggle with this in the pauline epistles too #like it’s a me problem and part a pride problem but also partly just a #my brain does NOT work like a normal persons and it makes me grind my teeth over really dumb stuff

[dokidoki-muffin]

BANANA FISH - ASH | SHORTER A lynx in a hood.

Another repost of an old fic as part of Tickletober (trapped) 🤭 Same as last time with a redraw ✨✍💖👌 I hope you enjoy it 🤭💖

___

Summary: Ash is staying over at Shorter’s place and gets his clothes mixed up. Shorter’s try to help his best friend quickly gets out of hand 😅

Notes: Beware ~ lots of tickles ahead 😉 (And cursy words 😂💥) It also contains a tiiiiiny hint of ShorAsh 🤭🙃 (Please excuse any mistakes, English is not my native language 😆) Another fic that is 3 years old! 😂🙈 And long af 😬🤣😲 But since a lot of you seemed to like the last Banana Fish fic I shared from the DokiDoki Timeportal I decided to revisit this one as well 🤗💪✨💖

Word Count: 4754

Shorter couldn't suppress a loud cackle as he turned around on the couch, placing his phone on the coffee table. 

"What on earth are you doing?" he asked the blonde teen, appearing in the doorway to the living room of Shorter's resident in Chinatown, swearing like a trooper. There he was, his genius best friend, who could indeed be impersonated grace, when he wanted to, bundled up in a hoodie that was just way too small, even for his slender frame.

"Well, what does it look like, moron?!" Ash snarled back, desperately trying to free himself from this tiny piece of clothing, looking very much like a lunatic in a straitjacket. He hated to admit it, but he was helplessly stuck.

Curiously approaching the adorable mess that stood in front of him, struggling to bring that hoodie back over his head, Shorter took a closer look.

"Oh..." he noted softly, eventually recognizing the red hoodie Ash was “wearing” as one of Sing's. They must have been mixed up in the laundry somehow. Knowing Ash’s morningly survival capabilities, it didn’t take a lot of deducting skills to visualize how one thing must have led to another.

Ash had been staying over for a few days now, after finally giving in to Shorter's continuous attempts to invite him to his place. To his own surprise, he had ended up enjoying it quite a lot. Somehow he just got swept along by the older boy's upbeat personality, making him feel like a normal fifteen-year-old boy once in a while. But even for a skinny fifteen-year-old boy, this hoodie was a hopeless case. 

"Need a hand?" Shorter asked his friend, who kept on squirming furiously. He even had to swallow down a giggle, seeing Ash blush slightly at these words, averting his eyes in embarrassment. The Blonde truly seemed to hate when he couldn't sort out his problems on his own. But in the end, he didn't have much choice. Displeased, he eventually agreed with a barely visible nod, frustration writ large in his face. 

"But for real now... How did you even manage to get into this thing?" Shorter grumbled in puzzlement as he tried to find a way to free his best friend from this misery, but as it turned out, the hoodie was a lot tighter than he had thought. 

"Trial and success, obviously!" was the sassy reply he received. 

"Pff... I wouldn't exactly call this a success." Shorter had to snicker at the Blonde's choice of words. He knew very well by now that Ash's extraordinary pride was nothing to be taken lightly, but given their situation, it was absolutely comical. 

"Fuck it... This isn't working..." he added after a while, "Put your arms up, they're in the way." Reluctantly following Shorter's call, Ash let out a mewl of discomfort as the Chinese finally managed to pull the hoodie partly over his shoulders, revealing a black sleeveless tank top. His upper body was free, but now he couldn't see, as the hoodie was covering his face, keeping his arms snuggly in place above his head.

Bending over in an attempt to see why Ash was still so perfectly stuck, Shorter ran his fingers along the edge of the hoodie. But his try to figure out where he could get a good grasp on it was suddenly interrupted by a very uncharacteristic squeal. 

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" the Chinese asked, startled by this unfamiliar sound. 

"N-no... Just... get me out of this thing, will ya..." he heard Ash's gaspy voice muffled by the fabric. Shrugging his shoulders, Shorter continued where he left off tracing the hoodie, letting his fingers slowly travel around Ash's stretched up arms. It was a matter of seconds before he was cut off by the next strangled whine that sounded even more pathetic than before, feeling Ash's body twitch away from his hands. 

Driven by almost childlike curiosity, Shorter rolled up the collar of the hoodie to uncover a deeply flustered face, immediately hissing at him on sight.  "What the heck are you doing?! Ouch! You're ripping out my hair!" 

On the one hand, Ash was thrilled to be able to breathe again properly, now that his face was freed. But on the other hand, he couldn't help feeling genuinely triggered looking at the dirty grin Shorter was bearing. Inquisitively analyzing Ash's agitated gaze through those tinted glasses, Shorter decided to drop his question. 

"Could it be... you're ticklish?"

Maybe Ash just felt particularly vulnerable, trapped with his arms up like this. Usually, he would have answered totally calm and collected, but something about Shorter's expression just made him blurt out a panicked, "NO!" 

Much to his disliking, Shorter's grin only grew wider, hearing his angsty little outbreak. 

Quickly trying to regain his composure, Ash put on the sweetest yet confident smile he could summon, elaborating his hasty answer, "I mean, don't be silly. Why would I be-AAHAH-!!" 

Before he could even finish his sentence, a sharp poke to the ribs made the teen jolt in surprise.

"You sure?" Shorter commented, highly amused by the Blonde's hilariously obvious reaction. 

Slowly retreating, staring wide-eyed at two hands eagerly wiggling their fingers in his direction, Ash clearly sensed that he was absolutely screwed. Not waiting for even a single second longer, he just started running. 

"Oooh, bad choice!" he heard Shorter sneer from behind, immediately picking up the chase. 

"Noho! Stay away from mehe!" Ash cried out, surprised by the squeaky sound of his own voice. Shorter wouldn't actually be so mean to use his helpless situation against him, right? He wouldn't actually tickle him now, would he?!

Desperately searching his genius brain for some damn good reason to argue his way out of this mess, Ash started to wonder if he was perhaps just overreacting to this whole situation. It had literally been years since his brother tickled him as a child. Maybe it wasn't even that bad after all this time. Maybe he had even grown out of it by now. 

But he still didn't feel like finding out! 

Especially now, while he was still trapped in that hoodie, limiting his defensive abilities tremendously. 

His heartbeat hammering against his chest, Ash made his way around the coffee table, hoping to bring some distance between him and the stupid idiot running after him, deviously smiling. His efforts were quickly put to waste, though, as Shorter just used the coffee table as a stepping stone to launch himself at the Blonde. 

Laughing at the almost girly shriek that must have echoed through the entire house, as he successfully caught his target, Shorter instantly wrapped his arms around Ash's skinny waist, hugging him tightly against his own body from behind. 

Flooded by a wave of adrenaline, Ash tried to wrestle himself out of Shorter's iron grip, even attempting to kick him in the groin, when he was suddenly distracted by a very unpleasant shiver rushing through his torso. Gasping in shock, he realized Shorter had started skittering his fingers up and down his side while keeping him trapped tightly with his other arm. 

Fuck.  So much for growing out of it. Cursing himself for believing in this wishful phantom even for a tiny little moment, Ash found himself squirming against Shorter's chest, trying to shake off the ticklish sensation that was slowly spreading through his body. Biting his lip to hold back the first giggles that were about to escape his mouth, Ash quickly understood that he was indeed still as ticklish as he had feared. Or was it actually even worse? 

Highly pleased with the reaction he was getting so far, Shorter let his hand travel a little higher, now gently digging his fingers into Ash's lower ribs. 

"Gah! Stohop ihit!!" the Blonde whined in response to that, still trying hard not to crack, but his shaky voice was probably not very convincing. 

"Hm? Why should I stop?" the Chinese asked in return, "Since you're not ticklish, this shouldn't bother you, amirite? :)"

"Or could it be…" Shorter dramatically faked an offended voice, "... that.. you.. lied.. to.. me?" 

Dragging out his sentence on purpose, Shorter accompanied every word with a squeeze from his other hand that was resting dangerously close to Ash's right hip, cracking the teen's facade at last. Involuntarily squeaking at every single touch on his waist, Ash just couldn't keep quiet any longer. Some more fingers gently clawing along his flat stomach eventually made him submit, breaking out into the most adorable giggle fit. 

Hearing this sweet, almost angelic sound for the first time, Shorter had to admit that it caught him completely off guard. He had expected Ash to be a lot more boisterous than that. Lucky for him, the Blonde was facing the other way, so the slight blush rising on those tanned cheeks stayed unnoticed for now. He had seen Ash smile every now and then since they had first met in reform school about a year ago, but hearing the usually rather stoic blonde genius actually laugh, was a first. He couldn't resist the urge to just keep going. 

Curious to find out how ticklish Ash really was, Shorter decided to finally use both hands to attack those vulnerable sides and ribs. Confronted with ten fingers at once now, Ash instantly collapsed back against Shorter's chest, almost knocking off the other's sunglasses with his elbow, his giggling growing louder and louder, slowly transforming into a bright, airy laugh.

"Oh... What's that?" Shorter kept teasing the smaller boy in his arms, "Given you're not ticklish, you sure are laughing a lot."

"Ahaha-! shihihit! Okahay! Lihisten!" Ash tried to argue now, as there was no way to get out of this with physical strength alone, "Youhu've prohoven your poihihint! I am tihicklihish! Nohow let mehe gohoho!" 

Giving an overacted sigh, Shorter pretended to think about Ash's proposal. Not without clawing his way further up the Blonde's torso though, drawing out more high pitched squeals as his fingers reached those clearly perceptible upper ribs. 

"Right you are..." the Chinese commented, faking to be lost in thought, "But on the other hand, you really did lie to me." 

"Ahaokahahahay! I lihihihied!!" Ash cried out in an utterly cute attempt to form coherent sentences through his laughter, "Buhuhut why wouhuld I say yehehehes?!" 

"Hm... Touchè", Shorter admitted snickering, "Worth a shot, but futile. I would have tickled you anyway." 

Not even giving Ash the chance to answer, he chose to suddenly vibrate his fingers against those highly sensitive upper ribs, causing the younger teen to let out a surprised shriek followed by loud squeaky laughter, "NAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA-!! STAHAHAHAPTHAHAHAT! NOHOHOHOHOHO!!" 

Ash was hopelessly overwhelmed by all those unfamiliar touches. Unlike the Chinese punk, who seemed to bring his big brother vibes everywhere he went, being rather used to things like tickle fights, especially with the younger ones in his gang, Ash knew nothing alike. True, Shorter had been the only person so far who was allowed to touch him, despite his efforts to avoid physical contact with other people, but this was completely different from everything he had expected.

Eventually losing the strength to keep himself upright, his knees started to give in on him. Feeling the sudden extra weight in his arms, Shorter just followed along, sinking down to the floor, letting Ash slip from his hug onto the wooden ground, still shaking and giggling.

Gasping for air, Ash rolled over to the side in a quite pitiful attempt to crawl away from those evil hands when he felt a firm grip on his ankle, pulling him backward. 

Squeaking in panic, as his body slid across the floor, his tank top riding up halfway in the process, he ended up being straddled by the taller boy, keeping him securely pinned to the ground lying on his side. 

"Let's see if your lower half can keep up," the Chinese chirped, smirking back over his shoulder, as he was facing Ash's legs now, lifting the one he was still holding a little upwards. 

Without further warning, he started squeezing and pinching the Blonde's thigh in search of new sensitive spots, causing Ash to explode with frantic laughter on the first touch. 

He couldn't even see what Shorter was doing down there. All he knew was that it tickled like hell. All of it. He felt those squeezing fingers wander up and down his entire leg, but there wasn't a single inch that was immune to these new tormenting sensations. 

"AHAHAHASHIHIHIT-! NAHAHA-!! WHAHAHATAREYOUHU-! FUHUHUCK!!"

Desperately winding his body, Ash tried to shake off Shorter's assaulting hand, slowly making its way to his inner thigh, kicking his legs as much as he could under the other's grappling hold, but he wasn't going anywhere. He could do nothing but submit to this maddening feeling, squirming and laughing his head off. 

Just when he thought it could not get any worse, Ash suddenly felt five nails scratching across the bare skin of his knee, half exposed by his signature ripped jeans, screaming out with a yet unreached pitch of ticklish laughter.

"Oha! Seems like I found a weak spot!" the Chinese declared in a sing-song voice, as he began pinching around the kneecap, even letting go of Ash's ankle to dig his remaining fingers into the back of the same knee. 

Failing miserably to curl himself into a ball of defense, Ash felt like combusting into flames. Every fiber of his body was screaming one single thing that soon found its way to his mouth, "GYAAAAHAHAH-! NOHOT THEHEHERE!! PLEHEHEHEAHASE!! NOHOHOTHEHEHEHEHEREHE!!"

"Holy shit...", Shorter commented this renewed outburst in awe, chuckling to himself. He almost got that knee, he was tormenting with so much ambition, shoved into his face, as the blonde gang leader was thrashing wilder than ever under his merciless attack. 

He had suspected Ash to be ticklish for quite a while now, but he was genuinely surprised by the Blonde's sensitivity. The only person he knew, who was even more ticklish than this, was the owner of that red hoodie, which had granted him such a precious opening.

Letting up on Ash's leg, Shorter turned back around, giving those delicate hips a few squeezes on the way, noting the exquisite reaction he got from that for the next time. 

Ash was panting heavily beneath him as he effortlessly flipped him over on his back, settling down on the Blonde's slender waist, beholding a most adorable sight. Two green eyes glistening with tears of laughter behind a few very messy strands of hair covering Ash's brightly flushed face.

"You... traitor…", Ash huffed, his chest still heaving up and down, his face forming an unwitting pout, "You… said… you would… help me! And this… is what I get?!" 

"Oh, I will help you, don't worry!" Shorter cooed sweetly in reply, gently poking two fingers up and down all over the Blonde's upper body, "But I just can't let such a perfect opportunity go to waste." 

"Oppohortuhunity myhyhy ahahass!" Ash hissed back before he dissolved again in squeaky giggles, desperately trying to hide his face in his arm.

Most likely, he could have freed himself from this accursed hoodie by now if it wasn't for these greedy hands that kept roaming across his body. Every time he felt like getting a grasp on it to work himself out of this miserable cloth prison, a new wave of ticklish sensation flooded his nerves, draining his limbs from every last ounce of strength.  

Digging in the younger teen's sweet laughing face, he could now actually see for the first time, Shorter took a brief moment to enjoy this precious view. Who would have thought that Ash's usually so pale face could light up with so much color. Or that his nose might scrunch up in such a cute way, as his eyes would squeeze shut almost entirely. 

Realizing that he should probably stop tormenting his best friend soon if he intended to keep their relationship alive, Shorter decided to move in for his final attack. Seeing Ash trapped below him in this totally helpless position, his mind kept circling around one single question. How ticklish might those bare armpits be. 

Quickly grasping what was about to befall him, Ash started to shake his head in panic, "No.. Oh hell no... Please! Anything but that!!" 

"I was wondering... Is this your most ticklish spot?" Shorter asked with an innocent tone, watching in amusement how those green eyes suddenly grew wide, while the Blonde's struggling intensified, as he kept lowering his wiggling fingers towards their new target.

"Nooononononowaaait! Pleeeahahahase! Noohohoho! I cahahan't! Stahahap!!" 

Shorter couldn't hold back a giggle of his own, his hands now hovering just a few centimeters above those wide open armpits, "Why are you laughing already? I'm not even touching you!" 

"Ihihi knohohohow! Fuhuhuck ohohohoff!" Ash whined back, shivering helplessly under this impending attack. This was truly humiliating. Not only was he actually still horribly ticklish, but his body would now even betray him in the most embarrassing way possible. Why did he feel so awfully vulnerable to a little teasing, giggling like an idiot every time those fingers dipped down so deceivingly, just to stop before actually touching him? 

Nearly bursting with curiosity now, Shorter wasn't able to hold back any longer as he finally connected his fingers with the soft skin of Ash's defenseless armpits. 

It was nothing more than a few gentle grazes meant to test him, but Ash was already gone. Arching his back, desperately squirming under Shorter's lightly scratching nails, he immediately descended into uncontrollable laughter mixed with more or less coherent pleas. 

"Oh dear…" the older teen kept teasing him with a sickeningly sweet tone, "I figured you'd be quite sensitive here... That's the spot that gave you away in the first place... But if you can't even handle that much, how're you gonna deal with this?" 

Applying more and more pressure, Shorter witnessed how Ash was just falling apart in his hands. 

"EYAAAAHAHAHAHAHAA-FUHUHUHUH-!! STAPSTAPSTAHAHAHAH-!! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

Eventually, kissing coherent words goodbye, Ash felt like going crazy. This was just pure evil. Neither could he defend himself against those tormenting fingers, nor could he escape this hellish sensation driving him to the brink of hysterics.

Shorter was torn. As much as he enjoyed all these sweet new sounds he was eliciting from his best friend, sending the blonde teen back and forth from childlike squeaking to panicky shrieks just by alternating the strength of his touch, he didn't fail to notice that Ash's voice became more and more wheezy. Not intending to torture the young genius into oblivion, he decided to back off, giving Ash the chance to come back from his ticklish subspace.    

Gently placing a few last pokes across his sides and stomach, Shorter finally retreated his hands, pulling the teen's black tank top back down on the way. 

Ash was dead beat. 

Gasping for much-needed air, he just kept lying there, a little stream of tears sitting on his bright red cheeks, his head feeling all giddy from laughing so much. He didn't even notice how Shorter used his exhausted state to free him from the red hoodie that had brought this calamity upon him until he received an affectionate ruffle through his messy hair. 

"Don't die on me, will ya?" Shorter commented on this utterly adorable sight. Swinging the tiny red hoodie over his shoulder, the Chinese left the room with a chuckle. 

Slowly opening his eyes again, beholding the artful wooden ornaments on the ceiling through his teary eyes, Ash couldn't tell if he had been lying there for just a few seconds or an eternity. With a tired mewl he slowly managed to raise himself from the floor. His body was still tingling all over as he dropped onto the couch, wiping the last remains of tears from his face, even a little amazed how hot his cheeks felt. They probably had the same shade of red right now as that stupid hoodie.

Still cursing the damn thing in his head, his trail of thought was suddenly interrupted by a piece of clothing dumped onto his head from behind, causing the teen to yelp in surprise. 

"That should be yours now," he heard Shorter's voice before he felt a weight settling down next to him on the couch, "Sorry for the mixup." 

Carefully inspecting the hoodie in his hands before pulling it over his head, Ash couldn't help grumbling out a silent complaint. This had been beyond embarrassing. He didn't even know what to say. 

Noticing the pout on Ash's face, who was clearly trying to avoid any eye contact as he kept staring off into no-man’s-land, Shorter let out a sigh. He had to confess to himself that he got carried away, hearing Ash laugh for the first time. He had learned a lot about the blonde gang leader within the last few days and he couldn't shake the feeling that Ash had really enjoyed being treated like a normal teenager once in a while. 

Yet again, it had taken months and a lot of work to gain Ash's trust and consent to be able to touch him. The longer he kept thinking about it, the more he could feel regret settling down on his chest. 

"You're not... mad at me now... Are you?" Shorter carefully asked, watching the younger teen bury himself deeper into his hoodie. 

Ash didn't say anything. His emerald eyes kept scanning the wooden floor, still trying hard not to look at this best friend. 

After a few more agonizing moments that definitely felt like ages, Shorter eventually perceived a softly mumbled "No..."

Sliding down even deeper against the backrest of the couch, Ash could feel the blush on his cheeks rise once again, a displeased whine escaping his mouth. 

"It's just... This.. is so embarrassing…" the Blonde continued after a while. "I... hate this feeling... When I lose control over my own body..."

"Right... Didn't think 'bout that..." Shorter muttered, a hint of rue finding its way into his voice.   "So..." he warily continued, "Do you... hate being tickled?"

Now looking at the ceiling, Ash took a moment to think about his best friend's assumption. True, he was not at all familiar with this kind of thing, and part way he had been thoroughly convinced that he would die right here on the wooden floor of Shorter's living room, yet it somehow felt like a weight had been lifted off him. Or maybe he was still dizzy from the lack of oxygen…

"I... don't think I really... hate it" Ash eventually concluded his thoughts, "I'm... just not used to it... that's all."

"I see..." Shorter replied with an ever so slight smile returning to his face, sliding a little closer to the blonde teen on his couch, "Then... you mind if I do it again?" 

Startled at the sound of those words, accompanied by a gentle pinch to the side, Ash spun around, his gaze finally meeting with Shorter's through his sunglasses. Once again this day, the Chinese had to swallow down a laugh seeing Ash's expression going from killer stare to annoyed little kitten within seconds.

"Nhg... Have it your way..." the younger teen grumbled at his best friend. Ending their mini staring contest by sharply pointing his index finger against Shorter's forehead, forcing the other to tilt his head back a little, "But I swear on this godforsaken hoodie... If you should ever dare to tell anyone about this, you're gonna go down in history as the ugliest corpse this world has ever seen!

"Fair enough," Shorter chuckled in amusement. Not that he planned on sharing his newly gained precious knowledge anyway.

"Now... About getting used to it..." he suddenly added after a few seconds, briefly enjoying the confusion rising on Ash's face, "... that can be arranged."

Watching with delight how the Blonde's mouth opened and closed without a sound, Shorter used his baffled state to quickly wrap his arms around the younger boy once more. Letting himself fall against the side rest of the couch, Shorter just dragged Ash along with him, eventually trapping the bewildered teen between his legs, with the back against his chest. Not giving him a chance for recovery, he started to scribble his fingers all over Ash's stomach and sides one more time. 

Gasping in response to this new, unexpected attack before dissolving into bubbly giggles, Ash couldn't help but facepalm internally on his level of idiocy. Shorter's intentions were just so obvious most of the time. And yet again somehow that stupid pineapple-head managed to make him lower his guard repeatedly.

"Whahahat the hehell are you dohohihihing?!" Ash whined, struggling to free himself. 

"Well, I asked if I can tickle you again," he heard the Chinese punk happily explain behind his back, "And you said yes."

"Ihihi didn't mehehean rihihigt nohohow!! Youhu jeheherk!!" Ash hissed back through his laughter, desperately trying to grab those tickling hands that kept gently poking and pinching their way across his middle. 

"Oh, sorry! Should I make an appointment then for next time?" Shorter cackled at his own joke while letting one hand travel underneath the red hoodie, now wiggling his fingers over any inch of bare skin he could reach, smiling along with the high pitched squeal he received for that. 

Ash felt like sinking to the very core of this planet. There he was again. Helplessly laughing because of his own damn sensitivity. But somehow, it felt a lot different from before. 

Less torturous. More playful.  Maybe even a tiny little bit enjoyable?  Still, he had more than enough for a single afternoon. 

Making use of his free hands, he mustered up all his remaining strength, gifting Shorter a deadly well-placed elbow to the ribs.

It proved astoundingly effective. 

Panting for air like a fish out of water, the chinese punk instantly sank back into the couch before emitting a pathetic whimper.

"Holy shit... have mercy..." he chuffed after finding his voice again, eagerly trying to rub the throbbing pain out of his ribcage. "That's not... how... a tickle fight works... you little brute!" the older punk wheezed out, frowning at the smaller boy who was still lying in his arms, panting likewise to catch his breath.

"Pah... serves you right!" Ash grumbled back in a devoted attempt to sound offended. But he wasn't able to hide that slight smirk forming on his face as he crossed his arms before his chest after pulling down his hoodie.

Throwing his head back against the side rest of the couch, Shorter let a few moments pass, waiting for his breath to fully return. His ribs were still hurting like hell. Ash sure possessed a lot of strength despite his slimsy look. 

Much to his surprise, though, the Blonde still hadn't moved an inch from this half-assed hug, originally meant to trap him. Shorter had freed him from his arms a while ago, but Ash didn't seem to bother getting up.

Fondly looking down on a head covered in messy golden hair, Ash's sweet laughing voice kept ringing inside his head.

"Jeez..." Shorter eventually let out a slightly melancholic sigh.

"You know..." he added after a while, notably unsure whether or not he should go on, "You're... making it damn hard for me not to crush on you..."

... 

Raising his eyebrows in astonishment, confronted with the non-existence of a much anticipated sassy reply, Shorter tilted his head to see what was going on. The Blonde was breathing peacefully, his head comfortably resting against the taller boy's shoulder.

It took him a few seconds to finally realize that Ash had indeed miraculously fallen asleep on him.

Feeling his face burn up at the speed of light, as he adjusted his sunglasses that were about to slide down his nose, Shorter kept staring down at the slender teen sleeping in his arms, in a wild mixture of bliss and bittersweet melancholy.

If only things could stay like this.  

If only they could just keep lying there, without a care for this cruel world, enjoying the first rays of afternoon sun that were flickering through the window.

Running his fingers through Ash's soft, slightly wavy hair, gently wiping those messy bangs from his face, Shorter eventually gave in to the call of his heart, hammering against his chest.

"You would probably not approve this... " he whispered almost silently as he bent his head down just a little, placing a most tender kiss along Ash's hairline, "but please... just bear with me for now..."

#banana fish #ash #shorter #tickling #art #tickle fic #tickletober2022 #lee!ash #ler!shorter

[dvasva]

Tbh? I think the radiant emperor duology deserves more critique than it gets in its tag, so after stewing it over for a couple weeks and also discussing it with my friend, I have decided to do it myself.

So. Spoilers for She Who Became the Sun and He Who Drowned The World ahead.

First off, so nobody accuses me of hating the series, I liked the series. I'd say I'd give the first book a 4.5/5, I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I like both books. I truthfully skipped the fisting scene, it triggered some dysphoria that I wasn't comfortable with personally but I don't have problem with it existing in the book, it's good where it is, no changes.

No, my critiques come mostly from the second book, hwdts. Which sucks because I absolutely loved Baoxiang in it, it's a well known fact that my ideal type is pretty, really mean, characters. ('What about Madam Zhang?!!!???!? Shes mean and pretty!!' I hear you ask. Give it a second cause i will get to my beloved madam zhang) So, my critiques are mostly organized as 'The first part I didn't like in Hwdtw that signals the thing that became my biggest issue, the bits in the middle that i did like along with the bits that I felt didn't really work well, and Act 3 which is where my issues really were exacerbated.'

By the end of book one, I had a general annoyance but acceptance that Ma Xiuying was a bit of a weak character, and not weak as in 'dang shes a woman and cant fight' or any other sexist way you may interpret that, but weak as in structurally, she didn't really have as much depth as other characters. I thought she didn't have as much time put into her character as others. And yeah you could have a million character analysis essays over Ma and her place in the story and etc, but for me, her setup for the next book as potentially having conflict with Zhu or her own morals was the most interesting part of Ma. In general I think a lot of people tend to overlook this flaw partly because Ma is a cis lesbian character and the main 'love interest' in a book that is usually marketed to people as sapphic, which yeah there is certainly a sapphic relationship in the book but I think saying it's a major part of the book is really giving the relationship a load bearing wall ot isn't strong enough to carry. The Radiant Emperor Duology is not a romance, first and foremost. To describe it as a wlw romance is gonna leave people who read ot specifically for that reason kinda dissappointed by the end of book 2.

My big critiques didn't start until book two, and a particular scene, though. Ma, at the start of book two, was generally filling the niche of 'nagging wife' to zhu, which yknow, is a fine place to start from. I was a little disappointed there was no further discussion of Ma's disapproval of the morality of Zhu's actions, and in fact the dead child was pretty much entirely forgotten by Ma in favor of being Zhu's wife. Which, yknow, sure.

The Scene I had issue with happened (Spoilers once again) after Zhu finally captures Ouyang and imprisons him at her base of operations. Ma, dressed in her empressly regalia enters his room with the intention of being the bigger person. She walks in, looks at the stripped down and humiliated general who killed her father and famously is also really a women hater, and tells him she forgives him for killing her father. And then she gets upset and cries when the prideful general who hates women gives her a dressing down and taunts her and is like 'I'm glad I killed your father'? She nearly cries because Ouyang was mean to her (notably only cause he was mean to her and didn't gracefully accept her forgiveness, not because he killed ehr father) and runs off to Zhu. And Zhu responds with 'Wow, he's just a weirdo, everyone likes you and everyone in existance immediately knows you're a good person and you change people.' Which, my friend suggested before she finished the book, was a case of Zhu placating Ma and dismissing her feelings which would be an interesting dynamic.

Really my hangups with this scene come from multiple parts.

1. Ma' few character traits including being observant and reading people really well (a thing she's praised for in book 1) and having good social intuition are completely thrown out by her thinking being alone with ouyang and forgiving him would be a good idea and then her being shocked and upset when he spat on her forgiveness. And

2. Zhu's response is never once treated by the text as her dismissing Ma and placating her, and Zhu's statement despite never being shown to be true before and that moment being the first time it's ever mentioned, ends up becoming Chekov's moral purity by the end of the book, where the plot hinges on Ma being able to magically heal a damaged character's mind enough for Zhu to win in the end. Which I will get back to. There's a lot of other stuff happening between here and the end.

So, before I get back to Ma and her role in the story, I'll address some other bits from after this scene. Both problems and things I enjoyed generally.

Madam Zhang and her parallels to Baoxiang and her being the absolute queen of dissociating really was interesting (before act 3). She was a very compelling character who I completely understood and felt positively about. She had a way more interesting relationship with gender imo than Ma did, especially in book 2. I didn't really like that she was overwhelmingly shown having sexual villence done to her, that felt weirdly like a punishment. But, I did like her a whole bunch, and I liked the look we got into her head. She was probably my second, maybe third, favorite character in the whole book until Act 3.

I really, really liked Ouyangs dynamic and relationship with Zhu. The weird sexual tension between them, their weird kinda nonsexual but also kinda very sexual S&M relationship. It was somehow the most sensual, sexual part of a book that featured Madam Zhang having sex with multiple people, and Zhu going down on Ma, and a lot of other mentions of sex or scenes involving sex. Tbh I feel like, in a way, Ma was left to the sidelines for most of the book because Ouyang became the primary 'love' interest for a hot second there and the only reason Ma could get her spot back was Ouyang and Zbu's separation. Also, from what I've seen when people talk about this book, they always kinda try to express Zhu and Ouyang's dynamic as very nonsexual and nonromantic, as platonic mostly. And there is no inherent superiority of romantic over platonic, but I think to insist that it is only platonic, and not a strange swirl of romantic, platonic, sexual, frustration and relief, and a swirl of familiarity and vulnerability all wrapped into one, is doing the dynamic a bit of a disservice. And ther is, imo, very clearly a subtle hint of romantic intent and interest on Ouyang's part before he realizes Zhu has a body he hates.

Which is also another point I didn't like. Ouyang and Zhu's relationship end felt off. The entire bit with the pirates felt off, but especially how Ouyang found out about Zbu's body, and how Zhu reacted. I think Ouyang finding out second hand, from a combination of being suspicious and from Jiang saying it, was a poor way for that to be revealed. I think there was a better way for that to happen that woyld have felt more like a betrayl to zhu than this did. The fact that Zhu and Ouyang were so in tune and could see each other perfectly, but this one thing was a blind spot for both of them because of how unaffected by gender Zhu was compared to how overaffected by gender Ouyang was is a really interesting thing to explore, an interesting disconnect between two character's whose entire basis for their relationship is 'like recognizes like'. I think Zhu seeing it as a betrayl would have been more impactful if she had presented this informatuon to Ouyang herself and been rejected than how it went down. And, I think her not realizing Ouyang would be disgusted that he felt connected and felt a sameness to someone with a body he found grotesque and that he feared would have been more interesting for zhu, who views herself outside of womanhood and didnt really think that other people would not see her outside of womanhood, if she was the one who told ouyang herself.

Also, less importantly, think going into Ouyangs annoyance that zhu kept moving his target further away was a good move but it wasn't expanded on as much for my taste. I also really liked it when (spoiler) Xu Da dies, and that entire part despite some minir bits, was extremely good in that Zhu finally has tasted loss. She had, up until that point, been riding a wave of positivity, she was the underdog who won over and over again despite all the odds and despite her own reckless choices. So I did appreciate that everything went wrong for her at least once. that would have been, imo if other things were changed, a good place to end a book two in a three book series. Which will make sense as to why I mention it im a bit.

I also didn't like how Ma was nonexistant unless the plot was like 'ok we need to remind people that Ma exists.'

And there's of course other stuff but those are the main points of acts 1 and 2 that i wasn't fond of or that i liked.

Act 3 is a wholely different behemoth which can be encapsulated with 'I wish it was longer but also different' (courtesy of the convo my friend and I had).

My friend and I both agreed that we liked this kind of courtly drama game it was playing. My friend doesn't tend to like the structure or writing style of a lot of the chinese wuxia, danmei, or courtly drama translated books i read, so it was nice to know that the genre content isn't the issue for her there.

The biggest problems I had with the ending though was 1. I think Baoxiang and Ma had an interesting dynamic despite it being really rushed and how distasteful I found the entire concept of Ma being such a good wholesome goody good good person that she could change Baoxiang, quiet his demons and fix him in some way. That was annoying in an otherwise interesting dynamic. And 2. I think Madam Zhang's character traits and cleverness and all that were wiped away to make her inexplicably jealous of Ma in a way that I don't think fit her character and just served to fit a trope of jealous empress who hates the favored concubine.

So, here's my major proposed changes.

1. Ma gets sent to Khanbaliq extremely early on. Like, act one maybe after ouyang is captured early. This serves three purposes. A. Ma has something to do and is more present in the story. this could be a good xhance to let her actually feel frustrated or upset at Zhu in some tangible way that needs to be resolved or talked thru eventually. B. she gets more time to build a relationship with Baoxiang, whose entire defeat hinges on him having a strong connection with her. and C. Her absence in the other parts of the book feel less like she's being ignored or forgotten. It makes Zhu's lack of haste more than just a way to annoy Ouyang, and turns it into an interesting moral choice. Should she rush to Khanbaliq to save Ma or trust that Ma will be ok in favor of gaining power? Her lack of haste means Ouyang leaves, depressed, and she loses Xu Da, all while she doesn't even have the assurance that Ma is ok, she is truly at her lowest point with nobody with her. If Ma is in Khanbaliq and that's explored, then Zhu and Ouyang can also explore their dynamic without Ma feeling a bit like she is battling for Zhu's attention.

2. Madam Zhang is suspicious of Ma, or feels actually tangibly threatened by Ma. In act 3, Madam Zhang's anger towards Ma feels really out of place. She got exactly what she wants, she is empress, her emperor isn't interested in removing her from her position and her position isn't threatened by anyone. Baoxiang won't get rid of her, he won't demote her, he has shown zero sign of ever even considering it. So, why is Madam Zhang jealous of Ma? Imo, especially since she very clearly has dissociated into oblivion and has no love or affection for anyone anymore, and no real desire or motivation to secure her position further aside from maybe producing an heir to make sure shes taken care of after Baoxiang dies, there's no reason for her to be inextricably jealous of Ma. It kinda just erases all of Madam Zhang's political savvy and cunning into jealous, petty woman, and that sucks. If she was suspicious of Ma's intention, or Baoxiang genuinely expressed spmething that actively threatened her position, her hatred of Ma would make sense, but instead she hates Ma cause Ma is ugly and spends every night with Baoxiang. She hated rice buckets concubine cause that concubine used a lot of funds and competition genuinely made her position less stable. She needs better motivation for hating Ma.

3. As I mentioned earlier, Zhu needs to be the one to tell Ouyang that she does not have a dick. That's just all around better, it feels more like a betrayl to bare your secrets and be rejected, etc etc.

4. The duology should have been a trilogy, with book 3 starting when Zhu is at her lowest, ouyang is dead, ma is in khanbaliq, Xu Da is dead, a new guy is the emperor. This is where a book three should have started. in a series that has so many important characters, i feel like it needs more space. she's in a 10 gallon tank when really she needs a 30 gallon tank. Lots of it, especially towards the end of book 2, felt rushed and the extra book will absolutely push that back a bit and make it less rushed.

Anyways that's my critique of The Radiant emperor duology. Once Again, I liked the series, its one of my favorites i've read all year. I don't dislike it, and having a critique or opinion about something doesnt mean I didn't like the book or understand the book (because obviously if i understood it i would understand why its flawless). I liked it, there are things I wish were different, that's it.

#radiant emperor #he who drowned the world #she who became the sun #radiant emperor spoilers #spoiler #i wrote this in like 2 hours at 4 am and i got lazy halfway thru editing it so if theres typos rip #i just needed to get it out of my brain #organized in text somewhere other than jamies discord dms #thank you jamie also #i have a lot of opinions on this duology #some i didnt even mention cause its 6:30 and i forgot #i think shelley parker chan wants to write nblm or mlm books tbh #i dont think they really wanna write sapphic books #and tbh im ok with that i think there should be more books about transmascs #the tiktok/tumblr habit of describing a book with tags really also doesnt help this book also #i think to say 'sapphic enemies to lovers' for this kind of book gives people the wrong impression #especially since once again i wouldnt really describe it as sapphic in the genre way #anyhow again so nobody kills me #i did like the books #i enjoyed them i loved them i did not hate them at all

[player1064]

kate for someone reason thinking jamie is homophobic not sure why or how but she does (sara has me obsessed with the idea that they can’t stand each other now lol) and then him introducing her to gary and she’s like 🤯 ft. micah in the corner like you didn’t know he never shuts up about him???

god Kate and Jamie literally CANNOT STAND EACH OTHER!!! I'm OBSESSED with that dynamic tbh!!!!!!! As always. this one is much longer than intended...

Also, don't need to have read it but this is technically intended to tie in to my fic Happy wife, happy life (but tldr Jamie regularly calls Gary his wife partly to keep their relationship under wraps but mostly bc. he finds it funny to call Gary his wife.)

---

“Obviously we’re done for the season right before pride month kicks off,” one of the CBS producers is saying, eyes darting over something on an iPad. “And since you four have been pretty popular we were thinking of including you in some of those ad campaigns, so if I could just get some dates off of all of you –”

“No,” Jamie says immediately.

All three of his colleagues snap their heads up to him, but only Kate looks at him coolly and says “no?”

Micah, because he’s Micah, chuckles and slaps Jamie in the shoulder, trying to diffuse some of the new tension in the air. “Not like you to turn down extra cash, Carra.”

Jamie rolls his eyes, pretends not to notice the way Kate’s eyes are burning into him. “Check my contract. Wish I could, honest,” he says to the producer, feeling very very glad that he had a clause added to his contract specifically so that he doesn’t have to take part in things like this, “But it just wouldn’t be do-able. You lot ‘ave fun, though, with yer rainbows and yer glitter.”

Kate just looks at him incredulously. “This is one thing you decide to take a stand on, mister ‘I don’t care about politics’?”

Rainbows just don’t really suit Jamie, is the thing. Nor does the extra scrutiny that comes from wearing rainbows.

Doesn’t really matter to him what Kate thinks of him, though, so he just shrugs and continues packing up his stuff for the day.

*

“Jamie – Jamie, I finally got onto Raya, can you have a look at my profile?”

Jamie looks up at Micah with a frown. “What the fuck is a Raya?”

“It’s a dating app,” Kate says from her end of the desk, in that unimpressed tone of hers that makes Jamie wonder why she’s bothering to insert herself into the conversation at all.

“An exclusive dating app,” Micah corrects, wiggling his phone in front of Jamie.

“Weren’t you already seeing someone?” asks Jamie, but he accepts the phone with a sigh and puts his glasses on. “I don’t – I’ve never used one of these things, what am I meant to be lookin’ at?”

Micah shrugs. “Didn’t work out,” he says breezily. “How have you never used a dating app, you’ve not been married that long. And look at yourself, you can’t tell me you weren’t a player before Mrs Carra came along.”

Jamie had got around a bit, in his playing days. Not much, mind, because he’d had to be careful, but he’d done alright. Unfortunately – and this is not something he’ll ever admit to anyone, even under duress – any thoughts of that had gone out the window the moment he’d walked onto the Sky campus after retiring.

“You’re right,” he says with a wink, “look at me. As if I’d need an app to find myself a bird. Why’d you want me to look at this, I’m not exactly your target audience. ‘less there’s somethin’ you’re not tellin’ us,” he adds, elbowing Micah and waggling his eyebrows.

Kate looks on unimpressed as the two of them double over in laughter. “Not that any of us would have a problem if you were, right Jamie?” she says haughtily.

Jamie catches Micah’s eye and has to fight back another bout of laughter. “Dunno,” he says, “I can think of one or two problems I’d ‘ave if Big Meeks here suddenly tried hittin’ on me.”

Micah bursts out laughing again, his hand clapping to Jamie’s forearm, and Jamie can’t help but join in – it’s infectious, okay?

“God,” Micah says, wiping a tear from his eye, “can you imagine how your missus would react. I’d never be able to work in television again.”

“Nah, she’d prob’ly send you a fruit basket, thank you for taking me off ‘er hands.”

Kate clears her throat and the two of them sober immediately at the sight of her raised eyebrow. “Maybe cool it with the outdated banter,” she says, “or do I need to remind you boys that you’re not in a dressing room anymore?”

She storms off, he heels click-clicking away as Jamie and Micah look at each other and try (and fail) not to start laughing again.  

*

“You didn’t want to bring your wife to the end of season party, then?” Kate asks politely, looking slowly around the room.

“Huh?” Jamie says eloquently, because he’s had a couple of glasses of prosecco and he’s not thinking as quickly as he usually might. “Oh, the missus. Yeah, she’s here but  – I dunno, she’s a bit shy, like. You didn’t invite Malik?”

Kate rolls her eyes, the way she always does when Jamie mentions her boyfriend. “Well, he lives in America. So.”

“Carra,” an annoying voice calls from just behind him, “Carra, come over ‘n meet Schmeichel? I’ve not seen ‘im in years, d’you know, I think I’d forgot how tall he was.”

Jamie puts a hand on the small of Gary’s back to keep him from bouncing around too much (the man is such a lightweight, it’s embarrassing), and says “I’ve already met Peter, you dolt. I work with ‘im, remember?”

Gary squints at him for a second. “You drag me all the way down to London, and then y’can’t even be bothered to –” he finally seems to realise that Jamie had been talking to someone, because he quickly shakes his head around a bit and holds a hand out to Kate with a smile. “You’re Kate, right? I love what you do on the show, honest, I’m always sayin’ people need to be meaner to James here.”

Jamie thinks he sees Kate blush a bit, like she hadn’t realised anyone else had noticed her dislike of Jamie, but she takes Gary’s offered hand anyway. “And of course you’re the famous Gary Neville, I’ve heard a lot about you,” she greets. “But aren't you still with Sky? What brings you to our little operation here?”

“Scopin’ out the competition,” he says with a wink, then turns back to Jamie. “Carra – Peter?”

“I said no! I’ll talk to him later, stop badgerin’ me.”

“Did you two travel down from Manchester together?” asks Kate, “You know, Jamie seems so invested in my relationship but none of us have ever met his wife, do you know where she’s got to?”

“Ah, his fuckin’ wife,” Gary mutters, smirking up at Jamie. Jamie winks in reply and slips his hand down a bit to pinch him on the arse.

Micah comes over, his tuxedo strained against his biceps, and he pulls Gary away from Jamie to throw an arm around his shoulder in a half-hug.

(Gary squirms a bit at the unexpected contact, but he still gives Micah a friendly pat on the chest.)

“Big Nev! It’s been ages, man – Jamie told us you were coming, but he’s promised that before and not delivered.”

“Been pretty busy, up in Manchester,” Gary says with a shrug, carefully extracting himself from under Micah’s arm and returning to Jamie’s side. “But I’m obliged to do the plus one thing at least two –” (“Three,” Jamie corrects,) “—fine, three times a year, and I figure there’re worse places to be.”

“Aw, you love it really,” Micah says. “I’ve always kind of wondered what it’s like to be a WAG.”

Gary rolls his eyes. “It’s a thankless job, to be fair.” He pokes Jamie in the bicep and adds “I’m going back to talk t' Peter, you miserable old twat. Honest, I’m always talkin' to Scousers fer you.”

“I already know –” Jamie starts to protest, but Gary’s already wandered off. “Ugh. Sorry about ‘im. You can’t take Mancs anywhere, can ya?”

The two Mancs he’s talking to look at him, unimpressed.

“He seemed nice,” Kate says carefully.

“He’s not,” Jamie replies.

*

“Good summer?” Micah asks, their first show back after the break.

“Brilliant,” Jamie replies with a grin. “It were my turn to choose the destination, so –”

“Ibiza?”

He nods. “Ibiza. The house was done just in time, too.”

“You know, I can’t really imagine Gary in Ibiza.”

“Oh, he hates it. Complained the whole time, but he does that wherever we go.”

He becomes aware that Kate is watching them from across the desk, not trying to hide that she’s listening to their conversation with curiosity. Jamie nods to her, all polite like. “Hows about you, Kate, good summer?”

“It was fine, I –” she shakes her head. “Sorry, you’re saying you go on holiday with Gary Neville?”

Micah scoffs. “Who else would he go with?” he asks, and Jamie points to him in agreement.

“I dunno, his wife?”

Jamie blinks.

He thought he’d got all this out the way, dragging Gary along to the party a couple of months ago. Apparently not.

“Gary is my wife,” he says, then suddenly feels very stupid saying that to someone who’s not already in on the joke, so he corrects to “my husband, I mean. Obviously he’s not – he’s a man. Obviously.”

Kate’s eyes are wide, unblinking. She looks between Jamie and Micah, lips pressed together while her brain seems to be buffering.

“You’re married to a man?” she says eventually. “But you’re not gay, I mean – you’re –”

Jamie, who last time he checked definitely was gay, raises an eyebrow, amused. “I’m what?”

“You’re a footballer,” she attempts, and oh, this is far too easy.

“Bit ‘omophobic, that, sayin’ footballers can’t be gay,” he replies, holding back a smirk.

“Oh shut up, you know what I – you’re a lad! You’re always with the banter, and the…”

Thierry wanders over, freshly brewed cup of tea in hand. “What have you two done this time?” he asks, looking pointedly at Jamie and Micah.

Jamie raises his hands to protest his innocence.

“Thierry,” Kate asks, reaching a hand out towards him, “did you know Jamie’s married to a man?”

Thierry rolls his eyes. “Ugh, fucking Neville,” he replies, and goes to sit down.

#thank you for the prompt I LOVED this and also. I've been waiting for an excuse to write more for that fic so heheeee here we are #carraville #drabbles #also in this universe since i never got into it in the main fic or in this drabble. jamie and gary got together after valencia #except it was more like a weird situationship/fwb thing for years and then they spent lockdown together and when things opened up were like #'hey why dont we get married lol'. and now are very happy together (always insulting each other) #wife gary saga

[malicious-vampire]

(Since Tumblr decided to make it impossible to edit an ask that's been saved as a draft, I'm forced to cite it here)

@schizocadaver asked:

"I'll place this as an ask rather than just going straight into messaging you as it feels most correct to me. I've been suspecting for a while that I might have szpd and possibly npd so I was wondering if you might be able to share on your experience of having both and what that's like"

Hello and thanks for the ask! This is a lot since these PDs affect my whole life in various aspects, so I'll try to break it down to the most obvious things, or those that I deem most important. NPD and SZPD complement one another quite well, though there are also some huge difficulties.

For a start, I take incredible pride in my solitude. I prefer spending my time alone and turn to activities I can do on my own, because I hold the core belief that most other people are beneath me and not worth my time or energy. It's also a lot easier to feel godlike and untouchable when you're not perveived by anyone other than yourself - which can also become a problem once I go outside and have to deal with the fact that I can make mistakes and that other people will take notice of that.

I'm a misanthrope and I don't trust anyone. While I do have a few close friends who I care about, I cannot spend more than a few hours at once with them or I'll get annoyed by their presence. Strangers usually disgust me, so it's hard to make any new acquaintances. I do have a perfect pokerface and though people always describe me as friendly and empathetic, I can't form any real emotional connections to anyone. It's like a thin veil or a pane of glass between me and others. Because of that, I never share much about myself. I hate intimacy, both physically and psychologically. Even my closest friends who I've known for years only know me on a surface-level, and sometimes it feels lonely to have no one who truly sees me. It's bittersweet.

On the upside, I can get along really well on my own. I don't want to be around people all the time and I have enough hobbies to keep myself busy and productive without having to rely on anyone else. On the downside, I quickly get bored. Humans require at least a little bit of socializing to function properly, so it's impossible to be truly alone and happy all the time. Therefore I occasionally get a sudden and brief craving for attention, which is difficult to get in that moment when one spends most of their time alone. Then I turn to reckless (sometimes self-harming) behavior or I start spiraling and drown in self-pity, which leads to more isolation and more depression (narc crash). I'm currently working against that by trying to establish a schedule where I get to meet my friends 0.5-1x a week to have enough outside-supply but still primarily inside-supply (e.g. making art and music, studying and turning to other solitary activities).

Part of the reason why social encounters are so exhausting for me is that I mask heavily, even around my family. I intentionally crafted my mask to fit every situation I'm in and I constantly try to adjust it by observing other people's behaviors and matching my emotional reactions (I've heard people describe my personality and it differed a lot depending on the social group, and often wasn't even close to who I actually am). So at least half of my daily energy is wasted on performance.

Additionally, my most present emotions are anger and hate. Since I think very highly of myself, I get offended easily and rarely forgive anyone. This includes myself - if I make a mistake or fail at something, it feels like my chest is about to burst from rage, and it's difficult to calm down. I've been fantasizing about torturing and murdering people on a daily basis for years, partly as an outlet for anger and partly just for fun.

I automatically hide most of my emotions to the point where I'm unable to express happiness or surprise the way neurotypicals do. In general, I rather enjoy thinking rationally and despise emotional reactions as they never really help solving a problem. I may seem cold and apathetic when unmasked, and I often get confused trying to identify my own emotions.

That's all I could think of for now. Spending a lot of time alone gave me the chance to do a great amount of self-reflection, which isn't always nice as I tend to overanalyse everything, but it helps to get a better understanding of myself and my relationship to others.

I hope this small insight helps - Let me know if something's not clear or if you have any other follow-up questions!

#ask #schizoid #szpd #npd #actually npd #schizoid personality disorder #narcissistic personality disorder

[narconfessions]

Not dark per se, but definitely a NPD confession that I dont feel I can share elsewhere.

I actually Do want to collect "oppression points." I like being part of marginalized groups because it makes me feel special and being the victim in situations makes brain go brr. I dont go so far as faking things to feel oppressed, but I do take pleasure in being plural/disabled/queer/trans/cluster B/autistic/a trauma survivor/etc (which I am) partly because I like feeling special.

(Disclaimer this is not to say that discrimination and hatred based on these things does not affect me negatively. I do experience and struggle with ableism and queerphobia and other things.)

i can't believe my eyes because i genuinely thought no one else felt this way and im so relieved to know im not the only one. this is tough with my severe impulsivity too because sometimes i impulsively come out in situations where i KNOW i'm not safe just because i impulsively want attention and sympathy.

i think the problem with the whole thing surrounding "oppression points" is that most often, it's just a term pulled out by marginalized people who have fallen into the trap of respectability politics, to describe people who don't fit their worldview. for example, autistic people who i've seen shit on autigender people because "IM autistic and IIIII understand gender so why can't you". and just look at the endless cycle of exclusionism within the queer community. it's always that we "just want oppression points to be special" but the whole problem in the first place is that we've made oppression out to be something special in the first place! the online world has placed a hierarchy on who is coolest and most valuable based on how many marginalized identities they have. we've created this idea that being marginalized is "cool". sure, it can be a big part of your identity but i've met so many people online who genuinely believed they were cooler and more interesting than cishets just by virtue of having a different gender modality or sexuality and i've also met so so many cishets and guys whose mental health has genuinely plummetted because they think they are not cool because they have no or very few marginalized identities and it's like. being gay or trans or nd or disabled IS cool, but it's not what MAKES YOU COOL! no one is inherently better than anyone else based on unchangeable aspects of their identity because your morality is based on what you choose and how you act, not just who you are. i'm not saying "aw boohoo white cishets are so oppressed" because that's bullshit, but i do think it's ridiculous how much we've turned marginalization into a competition of cool points. you can have as much pride in your marginalized identity as you want but you are not morally better just by virtue of being an Oppressed Person. so that's why this whole "oppression points" thing has taken off and instead of criticizing the hierarchy of oppression-based worth and value that's contributed to it, people just blame other marginalized people for being the "wrong" kind of queer or nd. there's nothing wrong with liking having multiple marginalizations and enjoying the attention from it, it's just when it becomes, like you said, something that people take as paradigm for peoples value or "coolness" and fake stuff because they think it'll make them cooler, when it's a problem like babe no! you are not a boring person just cuz you're cis or straight or nt or abled or white or whatever you have a personality and a life and a value. if people realized that they had value outside of societal checklists and boxes, then people making fun of other marginalized people for being supposed "fakers wanting oppression points" will die down. (none of this is said to invalidate you it's just my take on the nuance of the whole 'oppression points' thing.)

#reign replies

[iamthecomet]

Hoot!

(Finally replying, heh)

I honestly really hope that the meds will work too. I‘ll keep on taking the same ones I take now and take the other ones in addition, but they actually benefit? each other (as in, both probably will work better when taken together)

I‘ll most likely start tomorrow, but it will take 4-6 weeks for them to actually make something change. And also my symptoms of like dizziness and headaches will likely get worse at the beginning (this will get better over time tho)

They can also make you feel more suicidal in the beginning (which is because they make you more aware, including more aware of problems) but that also gets better after those 4-6 weeks when the actual effects set in (the new one is a kind of antidepressant)

So like, I’m pretty nervous about that

Yeah, going outside is pretty good but also hella hard to do. Sometimes my friends manage to drag me along, which I very much appreciate (they also need to go slower when we go somewhere by bike because of me, but they do that without ever complaining, for which I’m very thankful).

And you‘re so right. In the past, I’ve sometimes not treated them very kindly because of my insecurities and how I’m scared of being a burden, which is also why I isolate myself a lot, but whenever I feel a little less bad they always welcome me with open arms (they‘re also the reason I can watch movies/series, because 2 of them are so aware of my phobias that they will make me feel safe whenever something triggering happens. It’s literally so damn good, because when I’m watching with them, I can actually enjoy watching without being constantly scared that something triggering could possibly happen)

Also seriously, the way one of them immediately offers her hand for me to squeeze while simultaneously covering my eyes is just the sweetest thing ever

But like, there are other good news I think!

I‘ve been thinking about using a cane for at least months now. I sometimes feel very dizzy, to the point of pre-syncope (even though I never actually fainted before) and especially in the past few days, I feel even more unstable when walking than I usually do. I‘m very scared to go outside, especially on my own and just really don‘t feel safe. And especially during disability pride month, people where explaining what mobility aids can be helpful for what, and dizziness was often mentioned for canes.

And I honestly really think that it would help me a lot, and give me a sense of standing/walking more safely.

I always wanted to wait because I was/am scared that I’m just telling myself all that because I want a cane to get attention.

But my dear ex roommate (and one of the sweetest people alive) actually was like “well if you‘d benefit from it, who cares even if would be partly for attention? What about attention is so bad?“

And I think that they are very right. (They also added that canes do look cool as hell and they are also very right about that. I cannot wait to put stickers all over mine if I actually get one)

So on the next appointment I’ll have with my doctor, I’ll ask her if I can get a prescription for a cane.

Oh god, this got long again. Sorry about that

At least it included a lot of (pretty) positive things I think

At least for me, engaging a lot in fandom content helped me with my post-Ritual depression (as far as it was related to that cause I got regular depression going on as well xD)

But it seems like you‘ve been doing that /pos

~ @owlishanon

Finally digging this out of my drafts SORRY! ♥ I'm so glad things have been looking up! I hope that your meds aren't too hard on you during the adjustment period, and that your side effects are minimal. I'm glad you're friends have been so supportive, and are so good to you. I've probably already said it, but real friends are going to be there for you no matter what--they love all of you (even the not as fun parts) and I'm glad you have some like that. I'm with your ex-roomate on the cane stuff. If it's going to help you, you should do it. Who cares what other people think. If it makes you feel safer, more stable, you shouldn't hesitate to get one. I hope that your conversation with your Dr. about it goes well and you can get one and that it helps! Lots of love to you, I hope things are still going well!

#comet comments #owlish #comet's anons

[sharpth1ng]

Honestly the "It's dehumanizing/I don't wanna dehumanize you :[" arguement against it/its pronouns is so stupid because it's like... yeah that's the point 🙄 At least for me it is.

Same.

For me it’s partly aligning myself with other animals- because humans are animals, even if we like to pretend we’re somehow better than them (even though we invented capitalism and prejudice and we’re destroying our own ecosystem). I don’t believe it’s lesser to be non-human, and people have no problem using it/it’s to refer to animals when they don’t know their sex.

And then also I personally just feel alien- not necessarily the space kind but just like, not from here. For me at least it’s probably partly an autism thing, yk, neurotypical culture does not come naturally to me and gender is part of that.

I feel like I come from somewhere that doesn’t have gender and I got dropped into this place that categorized me, and like, moving into the boy category is more comfortable than being in the girl category but it’s also not really what I am, it’s just the easiest way to be understood by the dominant culture.

Non-binary is maybe a technically accurate way to describe me, but it doesn’t feel right either because by definition it exists under the assumption of a gender binary. You only have to specify that something is not binary if there is a binary to begin with. Along with that, they/them pronouns don’t do all that much for me.

(P.S I am in no way criticizing the use of these terms for other people, they may have different associations for you and ultimately how you feel about your identity and pronouns is what matters).

It/it’s on the other hand feels sufficiently other. It feel like it resist a number of uniquely human social constructs (which are overwhelmingly western and colonial) that at best feel suffocating and at worse feel actively oppressive and malicious.

Also just- who gets dehumanized? BIPOC, queer people, disabled people, sex workers ect., people who are generally not part of the dominant culture. People who benefit less from the dominant culture, and who, as a result are able to point out its flaws and promote change. People who pose a threat to the status quo.

Dehumanization is an assimilation tactic. “Be like me or you don’t get rights, be like me or you’re bad”. So there’s a level of pride in identifying with the non-human for me. Like even if what you say is true, and I’m not human to you, that’s not a bad thing. I don’t want to be “human” according to your standards and I shouldn’t have to be.

So yeah. I wrote a novel accidentally but I just love it/it’s pronouns.

Tl;dr: Sharp uses it/it’s pronouns because:

1. Gender euphoria.

2. Sharp is an autistic cryptid

3. And also ideological reasons

#you’re all allowed to dehumanize me #in fact I’d prefer it #it/its #not scream #ask

[neurodecadence]

hmm. prime numbers be upon ye

Emily I value you as a friend, but this is evil. I am just a poor sleepy dame and you want me to do maths? to find Prime Numbers? how dare you.

Anyway, let's do it.

2. Do you like to use the term queer for yourself? Or just LGBT, etc? Love queer as a term, adore it. My whole... deal is messy and not easy to discern and being able to say "ehhh you know that whole thing" is nice and easy.

3. Which pronouns do you use? So it's complicated a bit thanks to plurality (we have slightly different pronoun sets), but the shortest answer is "It/It's* for strangers and new people, It/She for friends and closer people". If I ever use She referring to myself, it's specifically one part referring to the other. *(yes I know the apostrophe is grammatically incorrect but the grammar was not written with the idea of it as a person pronoun in mind, so suck it, I am keeping it)

5. Are you "out" publicly? I mean I'm a six foot tall, broad shouldered entity in a wheelchair when I go out, who gave up on voice training because it's too much effort. I don't exactly have much choice BUT to be out, which is fine. I get a lot of kids being curious and I think that's sweet, when they look at me and are trying to process a LOT of thoughts all at once.

7. Are you the "token" queer person in your family? I don't have much of a family tbh. That's not just and edgy statement, my biological familia consists of me and my mother, every other person who shares my bloodline is not welcome near me ever again. I'm glad I don't have contact with them tbh, because I know I WOULD have been a token queer to a few of my family members, and I don't wanna be used like that.

11. Favorite (or just one you love) piece of LGBT media? Shiiiit, hard to narrow it down to one, you know. I might have to give it to The Last Girl Scout, by local tumblr legend Natalie Ironside. It's a story about queer love and building something beautiful in the ashes of the old, about healing, really healing, from trauma and pain, it's about connections and learning who you are through others. It's also about shooting fascists, a cool polish vampire, and communist political arguments. It's a good read, changed my life.

13. Do you choose to reclaim slurs, why or why not? I do it, but it's sorta tricky to express why. It's partly for the same reason I prefer It as a pronoun, it's about taking assumed power. What I mean is, as a visibly trans person, people are always playing the pronoun guessing game before I talk to them, running those guess and assumptions and deciding what they'll use at me. By using "It" as the preferred pronoun, there's a part of stealing that back, a bit of "you cannot have guessed that, and also if you intended to use that to misgender me, oooooh too bad bitch". In the same regard, calling myself a slur feel like taking power out of people's hands. Hands that may seek to wield it against me. I have faced institutional transphobia more than once, but it was always simple chafing microaggressions stacks atop one another. By saying out loud "yeah I'm a fuckin' tranny, what're you gonna do about it", it's like bringing a KS-23 4 Gauge Shotgun to a watergun fight (that's a very big gun by the by). Maybe I've overthought it a bit, and I'll admit, I don't make people in public use It pronouns for me because I don't really get out much (also a Pin for that might save some time), but that's my thinking on the topic.

17. Have you ever attended Pride in a big city/ large metro area? I really do not get out a lot. Also I forget that Pride month is february in Aotearoa and by the time I remember the parade happened weeks ago. So that's on me.

19. Do you feel safe and accepted in your local community? Pretty damn safe tbh. Folks around here practice the stance of "ain't gonna let that ruin my day". Doesn't hurt it's on the edge of a Uni district, lots of 20 somethings doing weird cool stuff. The only times I've dealt with problems have been petty bureaucrats with a lick of power exerting it at me. Then I go holler at higher ups and make their life a living hell. I'd feel bad, but maybe don't misgender me seventeen times in two minutes and verbally attack me on at 9pm on a monday night.

23. Do you prefer loud parties or quiet? Yeah I really don't get out a lot, and especially not enough to go to parties. Still I like a quiet gathering, if it's on the table. Everyone brings some food, there's music playing, no expectations but to be yourself. That kinda vibes.

29. Are you currently partnered, or if not are you interested in having partner(s)? I have two lovely partners, and I adore them to the end of the world and back. I'm not actively seeking any more romantic attachments, but I'm also not saying it's off the table (fate has a funny way with these things). My only problem atm is my dear partners are aaaaaall the way on the west coast of the USA, and I'm down here in kiwi-land. I'm not saying the distance isn't worth it, but I am saying I would like some more hugs in my future. Or sex. That'd be cool too.

31. Post a pic in your pride gear (or it can just be a selfie or anything else lgbt):

Have an image of this beast.

Okay that's everything, done, complete, kaput, finito. This is simply way too many words about myself but I can't NOT complete this order, especially since it's from cool pal Emily. If you read this far, please send me wishes that I get a good nights sleep at some point in June, I feel like I'm going nuts.

Well, Nuts-er, I mean.

[adrianasunderworld]

Going off of this post, I thought of some oc ideas on girl!Mcs main female friend group. I have yet to draw them, so take some moodboards.

Edit: added Azs younger sister.

Lamia

One of the resident popular girls. She's pretty,she's rich, she's a bitch. But dear God if she isn't loyal. If you become her friend, she will fight tooth and nail for you everytime. She is so aggressively loving.

Her uncle owns The Fall. So she gets in and drinks for free, along with anyone she brings along. Mammon has tried to tag along with her and Mc inside when he hadn't paid his tab. She was not having it. 

Has one older brother who has a baby. Lamia loves her nephew, but babies make her nervous, much to her family's amusement. "Wait ,no stop! Don't leave me with him! What if I drop him!? Noooo, come back!"

Due to her frequenting her uncles club, many students at RAD only view her as a party girl. People are usually surprised when they learn she is the president of the science club and watches a lot of anime. Lamia has never tried to hide any of this. If they decide to focus on one part of her personality, that's their problem, not hers.

Is a firm believer in not having to prove anything. "I know how smart I am,and that's all that matters." A queen of confidence.

Mc has tried to get her and Levi to hangout, since they like a lot of the same series, but Levi is kind of scared of her, and Lamia enjoys being a menace to him.

A nail girl. Is never caught without a full acrylic manicure. Or The Claws as she likes to call them.

Dirty sense of humor. 

Baphomet

Is nicknamed Baphie.

A daughter of one of the Devildoms nobles. She's very sweet and kindhearted, but incredibly shy. People tend to mistake her silence for snobbery, as if she's ignoring anyone beneath her. The truth is she's just very anxious and overly polite.

It takes a bit to make her comfortable enough to talk to you. But once she opens up, you'll find she's like a dam waiting to burst. Poor girl just wants someone new to talk to. She'll ramble about everything she loves from baking to romance novels.

Loves baking. Has admired Barbatos skills since she was a child, and has asked him for his recipes. High tea at the demon lords castle has always  been one of her favorite events because of this.

Mc has introduced her to Luke so Baphomet could have a new baking buddy. Luke and her hit it off and they traded recipes.

Beel was very excited when Mc befriended her, because her sweets are one of his favorites at RADs annual bake sale. She also rarely visits to the house of Lamentation empty handed.

Is secretly a very excellent singer. Only her friends and family know how haunting her voice is. Despite how much they insist she should try out for something, Baphomet doesn't have any desire to perform. 

Can never be left alone when the group goes out. Somehow always attracts weirdos that won't leave her alone. Lamia has had to have so many people kicked out of the club.

Since she's so quiet, her main form of outward expression is through her clothes. She takes great pride in her appearance. Shopping is the main way her and her socialite mother love to bond.

Her parents were thrilled when she befriended Mc. Partly because she doesn't have many friends. Secondly because everyone knows Mc is close to Lucifer and Lord Diavolo. They're nobles after all, and those connections are exactly what they want for their daughter.

Azazel

She often goes by Az. 

Is a fallen angel. She was Lilliths friend and was on their side during the celestial war. 

The rebellious middle child of three sisters. Her younger sister and her were always close and came with her to the Devildom. Their oldest sister is still an angel. Even before the war, she and Az had a strained relationship, they haven't talked in centuries.

Is so used to looking after her younger sister, she defaults to being the mom friend in most situations. Is the reason the group is alive on wild nights out.

When she learned about Mcs lineage, she was so happy to know Lillith lived, but also incredibly angry at the brothers for how they talked about it. She knows all too well about being compared to a relative, so she never talks about Lillith to Mc since she doesn't want her to think that's why they're still friends. 

Has known Lucifer since they were in the celestial realm, so she isn't afraid to chew him out for things.

Had always loved music and dance. Usually tries out for musicals, and is on RADS dance team. Is often with Lamia at The Fall. 

Is that one friend that can never leave her hair alone. She'll decide on a Wednesday night, "hhmmm… I would look so good with blue hair and an undercut." No one is surprised when she comes to school looking crazy.

Is very protective by nature, and is often angry on the behalf of others. Especially when she knows they're upset but does not work to rock the boat. She'll happily rock it for you. Mc: it's fine… Az: No it's not fine, WHAT THE FU-

Is the absolute tallest of the trio and will wear wedges and platforms to make herself taller. You will fear her power.

Tannin

Azs younger sister. By the standards of demons and angels,she is still pretty young. About the equivalent of a 13 year old.

During the celestial war when Az fell, Tannin ran away from home to be with her. It was that or stay with their older sister, and Tannin decided being a demon would be a kinder fate.

A very hyper and active girl. Peppy would be the word. Is on RADS junior swim team, cheer squad, and soccer team. Along with whatever clubs her friends want her to join with them at time. Az often has days where she doesn't even see her all day until dinner.

Despite being a bit younger, Luke was placed in her grade for the exchange program. She was on the welcoming committee to show him around. Luke wasn't keen to be stuck with a demon most of the day, Tannin is very stubborn when she decides to be someone's friend. She enjoys the challenge of it all.

Stationery addict. She loves collecting fun notepads, sticky notes, glitter pens. Give it all to her.

The junior teams have often practiced with the older teams, and Tannin greatly admires Beel as an athlete. To which her friends always tease her. "Shut up, I don't like him like that!" Beel remains blissfully unaware that he is the subject of preteen drama.

Animal lover. She's made a habit of feeding strays in their neighborhood, despite Az telling her not to or else they'll never leave. They have so many cats and dogs now.

Loves mermaid themed stuff or iridescent accessories. If its shiny, has seashells, or pearls, Tannin will want it. Shopping with her was Azs worst nightmare when mermaids were on trend.

Like many kids, Tannin wants to act more grown up than she is and has tried to tag along with Az and her friends to The Fall. It never works. She was allowed to go to the Bunny Boy events though, but that's only because Luke could go. So Az made the rule that she could come to the event If she and Luke stuck together. Tannin dragged that poor boy everywhere.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me oc #demon #moodboards #otome #the baddest bitches at rad #oc #obey me lilith #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me luke #obey me barbatos

[jiminrings]

Hey bb! First of all, let me just tell u how much I love your writing! You're fabulous, love. Don't ever doubt yourself. Secondly, I wanted to know if u could do a college professor! Jungkook and pretty student reader where Jk is absolutely enamoured by her.. (also, with a bit of the good ol smut🤭) It's a-okay if u can't tho! Just know that you're appreciated!❤️

the probability of us

pairing: jungkook x y/n

wordcount: 6k

glimpse: jungkook’s the son of the university’s president, y/n’s cardigan is everyone’s favorite, and adjacent walls mean shared victories. 

notes: there’s something so warm about this request that it made me write it as an actual fic and not a bullet one!!! i did alter it a little bit but i was genuinely so happy writing this so thank you sO much for this babe :D // gif from pinterest!

Jungkook, in his better and most definitely unbiased judgement, thinks he knows enough about you.

He knows you well enough to have noticed your patterns and habits with almost everything in between. They were predictable for the most part, and that was partly because he takes pride in being observational, but you manage to unintentionally throw him a curveball every now and then that makes him smile.

You always come into class when there’s atleast fifteen people in it and Jungkook wonders if you know it in the back of your head or if you just sneak a peek at the room every now and then. He’s not keen on being early to classes, and on the three straight occasions his dad left something in the classroom from the day before and got him to retrieve it for him, you were already there.

You’re fixated and practically attached to your knitted cardigan, seemingly having no problem wearing the same outfit for days straight — something so both adorable and visibly heart-racing when it’s almost always a tank top underneath that’s on the lower scoop, and a rotation of pants and sweats that sometimes feel so misplaced with your cardigan that it matches.

Jungkook’s found out that you probably wear atleast three rings on a daily basis, and that only took him two days to figure out because you’d exit the classroom with slight marks and indentations on your cheeks or on your jaw. Whether it’s to being sleepy, being bored, or being focused is something he has yet to discern — but yeah, he looks at you with his eyes silently when the class is dismissed, wondering if he’d see the same Pandora tiara ring mark on your cheek, or this time from a signet ring you sported more often.

He’s eight weeks in doing whatever this is. Whatever having the definition of him trailing behind his dad, a back and forth between his classes and his office, then them eating out for lunch break.

Sometimes, Jungkook forgets that his dad’s the president of this very university. 

He’s only really known him as dad and he’s grateful for that, and the only times he’d see his father as the educator he was with the fancy doctorate degree was whenever Jungkook’s been a little lacking in his studies as a child up until high school. His mom, a doctor, would be on duty for nights and at home for mornings so that’d be the window she’d teach him the alphabet and addition with the carrying, something that eight-year old him would tear up just at the mention of.

His dad would just sit beside him in a very calm manor, take out two notebooks for one of them each, and make reviewers. Jungkook writes down what he knows and what his dad tells him to, highlights the key terms, and for some totally odd reason, making his own reviewers saved him from failing altogether and become an honor student with little help from his parents and most especially his dad.

It humors him that people are so rigid and intimidated by his dad, and he knows that not everyone would believe that this is the same guy that taught him how to give someone a proper wet willy. Jungkook sees people left and right going out of their way to greet him and pay their courtesies, stifling in a giggle that his dad also fights the need to laugh.

He loves and looks up to his dad, feeling a lot more thankful that he has a healthy relationship with his parents as an only child. Jungkook feels he owes that much to his dad that he took education for his college course, despite his blatant lack of interest for it.

And here he is — a senior at another college his dad’s not the professor of, studying a degree that he’s not gonna practice, and shadowing his father for eight weeks while he goes and teach for the “experience” as his dad calls it.

This has got to be a little ethically questionable, but that’s okay. Jungkook takes some comfort knowing that his dad’s the boss and he could just sit in a chair, pretending to absorb his lessons. In fact, he doesn’t even know why his dad opts to teach still even if he’s well high up in that ladder, the only explanation being that his father just really really likes teaching and not just be moving between airconditioned offices and meeting rooms all the time. And if that was enough, his dad just had to teach two classes to which Jungkook needs to accompany him in both — Statistics and English Literature.

Jungkook has a memory of stone that’s probably of the same kind the Code of Hammurabi was inscribed in (because he just swears his memory started way earlier than the age of four), because he practically knows everyone in each of his dad’s classes.

Eight weeks in. He’s only known that long.

But Jungkook knows for a fact that you’re never late — that much he knows. He refuses to believe that you’re actually gonna be late to class. 

His dad comes in early and normally, he sits by his chair just when he’s a minute away from starting class. For some odd push today, he felt the need to enter the room with his dad and be early for once; but for the one time that he did this, you weren’t around for it.

You’re late, and you’re never late, and you’re throwing him a curveball, but something tells him in his gut that this just wasn’t something you pull out of your cardigan sleeve to confuse him.

You’re confusing.

You’re never usually confusing.

He visibly straightens in his seat when you enter the room with a sense of complacency and without the need to rush, the class only in the quieting down stages before the lesson begins when you walked in.

Mr. Jeon’s flickered to the entrance briefly, his tinkering with the HDMI cord continuing nonetheless. “Kook,” he just barely manages to get out because he’s already standing up from his seat, nimble fingers grabbing a slip from his desk that makes his dad perplexed.

Jungkook walks all the way to you at the back of the class, holding out the late slip to you a little too eagerly as it seems, and you can’t help but feel confused and irritated at the same time with how you started your morning.

For starters, coffee was spilled on your cardigan from the night before, and soaking it overnight in a mix of detergent, softener, and the tiniest bit of bleach wasn’t enough to completely rub the stain off — which meant you had to get up extra early to have it dry-cleaned (the staff looked at you a bit weirdly) and head off to where you needed to be, in a rush.

“But I’m not late though.”

You murmur as you peer up at him, refusing to even take the slip in between Jungkook’s fingers. He turns impatient, even more-so at your retort that honestly sounded genuine, that he settles on dropping it down your desk.

“You are, Y/N.” He says as convictedly as he can, only having to glance sideways briefly to your nosy seatmate to keep him out of a conversation he clearly isn’t a part of, and you make a note in your head to apologize to Jimin who gets scared easily, especially by the president’s son.

As if to prove his point, Jungkook rolls the sleeve of his bomber jacket in the slightest, enough for you to see a glimpse of his flashy gold Rolex in an attempt to tell you the time, one you couldn’t decipher because it was analog and your eyesight’s not that quick-witted nor clear.

“It’s three minutes before the start of the class,” you make it a point to outstretch your forearm, one that isn’t covered by your cardigan as he now realizes, your silver and digital Casio telling him that it’s 9:57, indeed three minutes away from the start of his dad’s class.

He barely even blinks before he adjusts himself to stand between your stretched legs so he could hold your arm and adjust your goddamn watch to be set four minutes later, his movements done so quickly that you straighten your back to the seat.

Jimin pretends he’s looking away, but deep down you already know that he’s gonna ambush you with questions as soon as Jungkook leaves.

“See that? You’re late,” he hums contentedly, pushing the late slip towards you and stands by himself with his hands across his chest, all-knowing that he wouldn’t leave not until you comply with his stupid request for a late slip.

His dad sees the interaction unfold from a distance, still confused but somehow amused, and a curious smile appears on his face as he now has something else to bring up on the dinner table later.

After all, he only called out to his son to tell him that they should go pick up a few groceries over lunch break — not to give you a late slip.

Jungkook collects the piece of paper from you wordlessly, letting his hand linger for the briefest moment but you pay him no mind, too occupied to looking at your left and gesturing for Jimin to scoot closer.

Something’s wrong.

His instincts are not exactly the most accurate but after all, it does account for something. He’s not the best at reading people when they’re indifferent, and normally you’re never indifferent to him. 

He decides to lay low at that, sitting back on his chair and only twirling the slip in between his fingers and not once setting it down on the desk, preventing himself to look at it.

It’s only when his dad calls him to do a summary and explain to the class about his lesson’s breakdown, and he turns stern when he crushes the paper within his palm for the sake of being indiscreet that he totally wasn’t fiddling with paper for an hour and a half.

Jungkook returns and that’s when his dad starts giving out final reminders for their next meeting, straightening it out as much as he could until he can see your messy handwriting more than he could see the creases.

Tutored Hwang Hyunjin; state quizbee next week.

And why, exactly?

As far as he knows, Hyunjin’s the faculty’s favorite because he was such an intelligent student. He might be the favorite of his dad but he’s not entirely sure because his dad says he doesn’t like playing favorites, but he seems to think so nonetheless. If the guy who’s in the line-up for summa cum laude is asking help for a mere quizbee, what exactly is it for?

You’re an honor student, sure. In the dean’s list and in the running for cum laude, but you’ve said it yourself that you’re no Hyunjin and in verbatim, anyone who takes education as seriously as he does needs a hug and an emotional support system. Do you see yourself doing all the extra credits when you already have the highest average on all of them?

Did you hug him?

Jungkook scoffs to where his mind is running, a little dejected as he ponders on it even more as he stands next to his dad’s desk, nodding curtly at the students who bid him goodbye.

He’s extra quick to stepping up when it’s you who passes him, hands on his pocket as he asks under his breath.

“We cool?”

He tries to search for a hint of distaste in your face and he’s almost disappointed to find none, a genuine small smile on as you reply and come out the door without so much of a look back at him.

“‘Course we are, Mr. Jeon.”

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

“What’s up with you?”

Jungkook utters the moment the door of your apartment swings open. It was straight to the point, really. No buttering up to you and no unnecessary bullshit before he drops the question that’s been plaguing his mind the whole day.

You had only been brushing your teeth when you hear a series of crisp and heavy knocks that led you to think that your neighbor Hoseok next-door has finally screwed up the pooch completely, and accidentally set his kitchen on fire with the cookie batter he’s been doing a series of trial and error with for a dozen times already.

Oh.

It’s only Jungkook, then.

He doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned being out in the hallway that gave everyone an opportunity to see him. Frankly, everyone who’s set foot to the president’s office, which is everyone, could tell who he is simply by looking at the few hundred picture frames Mr. Jeon has on his desk. 

He’s not concerned and he doesn’t have the gall to be concerned either, because as much as he knows that although underneath his dad’s section, the housing section of the college wasn’t under his close supervision. Besides that, he finds that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this.

Jungkook only looks up to you for a few seconds, wide-eyed with your toothbrush in your mouth, and decides to let himself in.

This being yours and Jungkook’s interactions for the past eight weeks. There’s not a label to it, but it goes along the lines of the occasional fuck, and then the ranting about each other’s days, and binge-watching that either ends up as hook-up, or trying to pick up new hobbies the other’s just suggested, or whatever’s playing is actually playing and the two of you just watch, your head laid on his lap and his hand brushing your hair.

Yeah, that one. Whatever that’s called — that’s what you and Jungkook are.

It’s been painfully obvious to your tight knit of friends, namely only being Jimin and Hoseok, that those things practically yielded to the commitment of him being something that starts with boy and ends with a friend, no spaces in between and all in one word.

You blink away your internal monologue, remembering that you need to spit before replying to his question that he’s asked you point-blank two seconds ago.

“You saw me in class today.”

That one couldn’t be anymore obvious and he huffs at that, once again going on a grumpy fit of frustration while he lies on your bed upright, arms across his chest. “Off,” you swat his leg immediately, making him haphazardly throw away his shoes if he want to keep being frustrated with you.

That’s the exact bit though. Regardless if you forced him to take off his shoes while he’s on your bed, he’d be frustrated at you regardless. He doesn’t know why he’s frustrated with you in the first place and that just makes him stressed even more.

The realization hits him that Jungkook doesn’t really know why he’s so pressed about you, his tone considerably softening because now he feels a little smaller under your curious gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. I clearly know that. I, uh, I meant outside of class.”

Normally, he’d find your avoidance of things actually endearing because you seemed to worm your way out of any situation you just deem to be unrelated to you — but for the first time, he doesn’t know if you’re avoiding his question. If this was still your passive-aggressiveness or genuineness showing its head right now.

“You’re starting to sound like a professor, y’know,” you note with intrigue, relishing to how Jungkook lying on your bed and looking at you under such intensity seems normal to you at this point and at this moment. “A professor hanging out with his student outside of class, in her dorm, and on a weekday.”

The comment you add was supposed to be humorous but you find it rather odd now having said it out loud, the realization dawning on you that whatever this is, is just too ambiguous and vague that you’d never wanted something so specific in your lifetime.

“Just trying to appease dad. Do I look like I have the patience to teach a class, better yet show up?”

That’d be the actual bane of him.

Don’t get him wrong, professors must be so cool and patient with their workload and stuff, but holy fucking shit does he hate it for himself. He means no disrespect to his dad but he honestly can’t see himself doing what he does, even for a fraction of his life willingly.

You sort of envy him for the upbringing he has and the wholesome and healthy relationship he has with his family that you wouldn’t mind telling people all about. Not everyone expects Jungkook to be as family-oriented as he looks, and the little nugget of information he made you privy too puts a gentle smile of your face.

“You do have the patience to ask me if I’m okay though.”

It’s a question between reeling yourself in and putting yourself out there more, plopping to sit on the edge of your bed as you try to put lotion on your legs all the way down to your heel.

Jungkook finds it normal to see you putting lotion on and zit cream on your face, and he doesn’t question it for one second.

That doesn’t automatically mean that he’s gonna address it though.

“Well, baby, are y’okay?” he crawls the short distance from you, putting half of his body weight as he slings himself on your shoulders from behind, lips brushing against your ear as he pulls you tighter.

“Mhmmm.”

He finds it that as much as he pulls you tighter, you grow a bit more distant. You’re there with him but your mind isn’t, perhaps lost on the lotion that only adds into your scent that seems engraved in his mind nowadays.

Jungkook does as much as to tug a sleeve of your shirt to expose the slightest bit of your shoulder blades, pressing wet gentle kisses that leaves you, surprisingly, unfazed.

You make no move nor action, just continuing on rubbing your arms with your hands and him taking the momentary act of silence to look around your room, seeing your textbooks piled neatly on your desk with your lamp on.

“Long night?” 

He asks and not a second later do you hum in confirmation, making him roll his eyes and his stomach churn, but it probably just has something to do with a heartburn that’s beginning to form because the ache’s spreading to his chest.

It’s got to be heartburn, right?

“Alright. Didn’t have to answer me too quick just so you can kick me out.”

He mutters underneath his breath a little hurt, taking your responses as his cue to leave. His flair for what you think is the dramatics makes you roll your eyes and slap his thigh, following him out on the way to the door.

Jungkook’s fazed because he doesn’t exactly know the essential purpose plus his expected outcome of this five-minute visit. He doesn’t have a clue, but dropping to your apartment unannounced and seeing you for just even five minutes, even if he doesn’t know why, doesn’t seem wrong.

What is wrong, is that you’d normally kiss him goodbye.

This time, you don’t.

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

Jungkook’s gut tells him to come early to class, even telling his dad that he’d come down there by himself so he could scope out his class like the great son that he is, and he does exactly that.

Some of the early-birds are pleasantly surprised to see him there, early and alone without Dr. Jeon, sitting on his usual chair.

This setting’s odd for him and as much as he wants to leave, he doesn’t feel the need to. He doesn’t really care if he’s intimidating the students because after all, that’s not the reason why he’s here. In fact, he’s aware that he seems to be quite the talk of the campus, the verdict being half and half if he was as fun, easygoing, yet stern like his father — or if he’s something else entirely. Either way, none of them could catch on to the fact besides you that he’s not here out of passion, but rather obligation.

There’s less than thirty students in the room but Jungkook could just feel it at the back of his spine that you’re gonna walk through the door soon enough. You’ve got to be, right? Jungkook stands by himself near the door, practically barricading the door with how he’s built.

This familiar guy he can’t put a name to is walking through the door carelessly, eyes completely fixed on his phone that his shoulder’s barreling into Jungkook’s.

“Oh hey dude, what’s up?”

The guy in question barely even looks up for a second, a meek smile on his face before turning to his phone again and just staying there by the door, a character paused to block it all for a fucking text as what it seems.

Jungkook barely needs a second to look at him eye to eye; tall, pale, long blonde hair, and smooth pronounced features.

Hwang Hyunjin.

He’s only seen him in passing but never on this scale, his first instinct being straightening his back. They’re roughly the same height, Jungkook shoving his observation to the back of his head that Hyunjin’s only a millimeter higher than him.

He’s probably the only one applying pressure to this scenario, thick brows furrowing as he almost grimaces looking at the younger guy in front of him.

“Are you in this class?”

What?

Hyunjin’s confused to say the least, not only because this random dude he bumped into is suddenly making conversation with him, but because someone’s actually questioning about his presence here.

He lowers his phone, putting a pause to his heated exchange of which installment of this series they’re watching this, all in the favor for staring at this guy who’s cowling at him.

“... Yes?”

His answer even sounds unsure, Jungkook’s questioning raise of his brows prompting him to explain.

Hyunjin doesn’t even know why he feels compelled to explain but he does it nonetheless. “They say I could sit in this class. Some topics would show up in the quizbee next week.”

That’s just grand.

Before Jungkook can simmer in his irritation even more, his dad slips through the door by holding his shoulders in place, looking between the two of them briefly before walking to his desk.

“Kook? Thought you’d open up the lesson without me.”

Blondie tilts his gaze, eyes narrowing as he tries to scan a Kook in his brain’s directory and why it sounds so fond coming from Dr. Jeon.

“Mmmm, sorry dad.”

Jungkook emphasizes a little more than needed, turning to him and sending him a half-hearted grin while unbeknownst to him, Hyunjin pales and is having a breakdown and a half.

Did he really just accidentally bump into the college president’s son? Is he gonna be expelled now?

Jungkook’s oblivious to the inner turmoil that’s unfolding in the guy in front of him, crossing his arms before looking at his dad once more.

“Is he allowed here?” 

He questions sharply like a toddler who’s just seen an inconspicuous man by the swing, his cheeks rounding with his lips pursed.

His dad’s really confused because this is the most intrigue he’s seen Jungkook inhibit for the whole eight weeks.

Of course his dad knows; he’s more than aware that his son has literally no interest in being a professor, and honestly speaking, he’s not even mad at that. He’a outsmarted him on this one and just went along with the lengths of hi son trying to impress him, falling into this eight-week routine of them bonding together with little practice teaching, yet Jungkook still wonders where he got his wit from.

He looks back and forth between Jungkook and Hyunjin, perplexed because he’s pretty sure that the two of them don’t know each other and that doesn’t explain the tension lingering.

“Hyunjin? Yeah. President’s lister, right?”

Hyunjin grins and chuckles at that, bowing slightly as he just passes Jungkook that appalls the latter.

“You put me there, sir.”

Jungkook mocks him under his breath, not going unnoticed by his dad who just chuckles all the same. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he lies right out of his teeth, sitting on his chair and spreading his legs until his dad nudges him to be atleast decent because he wants the students to focus on his presentation and not his son’s crotch.

He feels cursed having such clear vision because even when the lights are dim, Jungkook still finds his gaze looking for you out of habit. Cursed for seeing Hyunjin sit on the other side of you and suddenly he wishes that this would be the time that Jimin interferes.

He’s unsure if you’re making him confused or he’s confusing himself, but the way his head feels like splitting just by thinking about you and what he could’ve done wrong tells him that he should be definite.

“Would you mind wrapping up the lesson, Mr. Jeon?” his dad asks outloud and for any other context, they’d share identical smiles on how they should be professional towards each other (as suggested by his dad) during class.

“Not at all, Dr. Jeon.”

God, he’s so oblivious to see how he has everyone gravitating towards him that it’s actually endearing. You sitting all the way up gives you a front-row seat to see how everyone sits up a little straighter and how heads follow his every move.

Jungkook has everyone wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even know — you’re everyone; he can’t know.

He steps up to the plate and the natural dominance and hold he has on everyone broke through, a lesson about statistics never being this intense and a large majority of the people would really stay for another hour and a half if it’s Jungkook who’s teaching.

He’s so absorbed into summarizing as a way of destressing that he ended up giving perhaps one of the best makeshift lectures ever, his dad positively awed and ending up even more confused.

Jungkook’s coming down from his lecture high, nervously fiddling with his fingers as his dad gives the final reminders. What doesn’t help is also you coming out of the classroom with Hyunjin in tow, wearing your cardigan, and that’s what considerably sets him off.

Suddenly, he now decides that your cardigan is the ugliest and most disgusting piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s the furthest thing from adorable, and the nearest thing into being set on fire.

You still smell sweet and homey when you’re nearing him, and the realization that your cardigan’s tainted by the smell of you and soon enough, Hyunjin will — it hits Jungkook too hard that he mutters under his breath, his jaw lax from being clenched.

“If you have a problem with me, just tell me about it.” 

He can’t find the will in himself to care whether or not Hyunjin’s gone on without you and is waiting for you by the corridor, or that his dad’s arranging his shelf and could be possibly listening.

“I don’t,” your face reflects the same thing as your answer, devoid of any uncertainty that you have a problem with him.

“You don’t?” he prods further even if he knows that asking the second time wouldn’t even help.

“I don’t. Do you?” 

There’s no malice in your tone. It’s the same gentleness laced with mischief underneath, head tilting in question.

That’s when he narrows his eyes at you, always knowing how to play your cards right without him knowing.

“With you or with myself?”

You shrug carelessly, an automatic giggle tumbling out of your lips that it bothers you too because you shouldn’t be okay with pulling yourself away from Jungkook, and the fact that it could be because you made peace long enough that the two of you will never be more is something to blame.

“You tell me, Mr. Jeon.” 

He’s never hated his family name more and the formality preceding it than now. In reality, he’s just a year older than most of you in this class and the last time he’s checked, no one calls their senior, despite being from another university, like that.

Everyone assumed that he should be called with respect because after all, they’re probably looking at the future of this institution anyways. 

Stable breaths aren’t enough and Jungkook seems to despise the way your slightest change towards him affects him the most, and his pride over not reaching out to your first has long been gone since.

He figures that this is just your way of detaching from him because his eight weeks are almost up, and that he should be totally fine with it because after all it’s only been eight weeks.

He can’t see another eight weeks of you pulling out from him, and even worse, eight weeks without you.

“We’re not cool.”

Jungkook says as soon as you open your door, not waiting for you to gesture him to come in. In any other situation, he’d find you adorable having traded your contacts for glasses, and absolutely sexy if his blood’s rushing elsewhere besides his cheeks. There’s no introduction of asking about your day nor catching you off-guard with a kiss either. 

It’s him going straight to your bed and lying upright, looking at you somberly that you feel sorry you’ve been establishing this change in the first place.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

His question is a complete 180 from his voice that’s been gravelly since morning, sincerity underneath the rough edges.

You shake your head no, a signal that there’s absolutely nothing wrong and you don’t have anything to tell him about.

“Are you sure?”

He looks at you with wide reassuring eyes just begging for anything, atleast something, the only time that he wishes there’s something wrong going on so he could chalk it up to that instead of facing this shift with you blindly and aimlessly. 

You’re wordlessly climbing up on bed too, making him automatically scoot over to his side of your bed when he stays overnight, instant warmth welcoming you just by having your shoulders touch with him. It’s a head nod of yes, I’m sure that there’s nothing wrong with your eyes closed. 

Being beside him is the equivalent of all the comfortable nights you’ve slept. Jungkook’s the ultimate compilation and the most expensive goodie box of warm hugs and warm tea that tasted familiar instead of incredibly earthy. He’s white noise and eight-hour loops of rainfall against your windows and humidifier-goodness of sleep that you take indulgence and warmth in.

Jungkook’s in another realm of thought when he almost snaps at you because your roles have been reversed and it’s him who’s doting over you.

“Are you usually this non-committal?”

You’re always warm with a cherry on top when you talk to Jungkook, and just only two days of you giving him timid replies has him asking you if you’re the opposite of the adjective that people most commonly attached to you.

“I think we both know best that I’m loyal.”

You are. 

It’s a word that’s almost always attached to your name. You’ve never really sustained a large group of close friends, and it wasn’t needed, but Jungkook finds it funny that you’re oblivious to how people look at you.

He’s well-acquainted with what goes around, and the only things that go around about you was that you’ve touched them in one way or another. You’re the most loyal friend Jimin has because you’ve stuck with him even if he’s spilled his guts on your bathroom floor, missing the mark of your toilet bowl. You gave up your bed for him and tucked him in even if he was still at risk of throwing up because he just couldn’t stop, and made him breakfast the next morning. You’ve only known each other for three days.

Hoseok considers you his most loyal neighbor slash friend ever, because you let him have a go at your pantry even if you knew at the back of your head that he’d screw up something in his recipe one way or another. Even started buying extra ingredients whenever he needs them, and him purposefully forgetting that he has brown sugar at the back of his cabinet.

You are loyal, and that’s what he sometimes hates about you too because it makes you more vulnerable. A little too easy to trample on. A little too easy to have you cheering for someone from the bleachers when they’re still on the bench.

Jungkook wonders if you’re loyal to him too, and if you were (which he’s sure of, and there’s no denying it), would you still be even if he feels like the two of you are growing apart?

“Then why do I feel that-“

He sighs in exasperation, head turning to face you and he’s greeted with your finger outstretched, digging in to where his dimple would appear.

He could look at you properly this time because he’s not in a rush asking if you’re okay. Eyes glazed looking up at him underneath your glasses, scrunched nose with the cutest smile and all that he wants this to never stop.

“Hey.”

You whisper in a rush all of a sudden, a toothy grin fading steadily when your thumb comes to rest on his cheek, whole hand soon pressed to it whole that Jungkook finds himself leaning.

“I’m in love with you.”

It comes out of you fluidly; no baited breath and no hesitation at all. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, actually. Not once did you think that you’d ever tell Jungkook you love him in this way, or ever for that matter, but it’s something that materialized out of thin air.

It’s as quick as a passing thought and as stable as a core memory, reiterating what is only a truth instead of a confession.

There’s no sadness in your gaze and no distrust either, but the smile that stretches on your cheeks doesn’t look as giddy.

He’s a little cross-eyed with how close you are, but Jungkook audibly whimpers when you pull away suddenly and out of the bed altogether, picking up your laptop from your table.

You don’t know what you’re doing either, but you could only hope that it looks as natural as it seemed, wanting him to know that your sudden realization that you need to make a twenty-page essay in size 12 font has nothing to do with your profession of love.

“But I know I shouldn’t, and besides, it’s a conflict of interest. Anyway, let’s just end this here now and-...”

“Are you insane?”

Jungkook exclaims in punctuation marks and of deep urgency, looking at you as if you suggested the most ridiculous thing ever after what you’ve just said, which you exactly did.

“Just continue loving me!”

He says it as the most obvious thing ever, his chest feeling an odd sense of relief after having blown up with emotion. He’s a sponge at this point in whatever relationship the two of you have. He’ll take what you can give, but this was something Jungkook would run to hell and back for to not take from you.

“You didn’t even ask if I loved you back! And that’s my honest answer, not something that would appease you when you return the question.”

He looks a little softer around the edges at the moment — arms flailing around and hair bouncing as he keeps moving his head. 

His cheeks are puffed out when he’s angry and his lips are red from trying to get his point across strongly, stammering with what more he could think of in his head.

“It’s not a conflict of interest either! I only shadowed my dad to please him, but we both know that I don’t want to become a professor like him. You just think that it is because you’re up on the seats and I’m down on the podium!” he’s heated and his cheeks are warm and there’s no way it has something to do with your airconditioning.

“It’s a stint. It was a literal eight-week stint for free, because he’s the president for god’s sake — that’s it! I go back to my university in like what, a week? And they don’t even need me passing requirements, because they already know, again, that I’m the son of a university president! Honestly, it’d be stupid of them to.” 

Jungkook feels like he’s gonna pass out with how overwhelmed he is. Too overwhelmed to the point that he doesn’t see you smiling out of the corner of his eye, hand rubbing down the length of his nape to his back.

It’s only then that you realize that he’s rambling and his voice is wavering, concern dripping down from you instead of amused laughter.

“Y/N, please, it’s convenient — more than convenient. I graduate this year, and you next year. The last thing I’d do in my life is grade papers. You know what I want to be? I wanna be-...”

Jungkook’s cut off with a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth that’s grounded him, blinking twice to look at you.

He should really kiss you right now.

“You could’ve condensed that into a single simple sentence,” you snort when you pull away from Jungkook’s hold, sending him a look of faux disappointment to which he whines. “It’s called I love you too, Jungkook.”

He squints at your teasing but reasons just as quick, sneaking in his head underneath your shirt to escape from your teasing and importantly, press a gentle kiss to your chest, then your boobs, and settling to lie down on your stomach as he’s content.

“I was panicked!”

Jungkook’s certain that he loves you, laughing to himself when he heard heavy knocks against your bedroom wall that just conveniently happens to be adjacent to Hoseok’s.

“Fucking finally! I was about to flirt with either of you just so you could cut to the chase and admit it to each other!”

Your laugh is the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, coming out from hiding underneath your shirt and just laying on top of your clothed tummy, hand looking for yours to hold on to.

You’ve been sleepy the entire time, he’s figured. You having switched to your glasses meant you’ve already had your night shower, and only had three hours maximum before succumbing to your bed. You’ve had a long day clearly, and it’s when you’re starting to succumb into sleep right exactly where you are that Jungkook suddenly remembers.

“You know what I want to be? I wanna be-…”

“With you.”

“Mhmm?” you all but mumble, feeling him adjust your head on the pillow while he lays on his, literal weight being lifted off from you.

Jungkook feels even more endeared if that’s any more possible, the tiniest boop to your nose and the softest kiss on your forehead.

“I wanna be with you.”

#fEEDBACK PLS AND THANK U :D #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook drabble #jungkook drabbles #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fic rec #jungkook fic recs #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook fluff imagine

[the-night-writer1]

Unforeseen Consequences part 5

This part will not make sense if you haven't read the previous parts. I'll updates this with links when I learn how)

There was a moment of silence between the three. It was soul crushing to Red son as he turned to hide in Mk's embrace. Starting to show visible tears once more.

Then he was pulled into his uncle's embrace by a hug and a sweet peach tone,"lǐwù it's going alright."

He ran his fingers through Red's hair as he tried to reassure his nephew. To give Red son the kind of parental comfort he probably wouldn't be getting from his parents anytime soon. Red son hugged him back.

" uncle's here I gotcha kiddo" Wukong said as he continued to comb his fingers through Red son's hair. Mk got off the bed so Wukong could scoot on to get a better hold of Red son.

There wasn't much Mk could do at the moment and the small food break was much appreciated. Mk walked over to the bags of food and pulled out his noodles. He then sat in his chair and ate while listening to Wukong's sweet coos to his nephew.

And with that Wukong like magic finally got Red son to go back to sleep.

"thank you" Mk said softly as he ate his noodles.

"no problem kiddo. Once you're finished we'll changes spots so you can get a nap in too."

---

Mowang adjusted his shirt as he stood infront of the hospital. He hated glamours but he loved his son more than he hated glamours. Though he felt nude without his fur and he felt itchy. This was for his boy.

His poor sick baby boy who's mind was clouded by illness. To even think they saw him as a disappointment made Mowang's stomach turn. That was so far from the truth. He was their entire world all they ever wanted was what was best for him.

Yes there was a lot of tough love but it was still love. If they'd coddled him all the time he wouldn't be who he was today.

Mowang needed to express that to the boy though and apologize for their mistake. He was partly to blame after all. He also just wanted to hold his poor boy. Red son was ill and they couldn't even coddle him now.

Thankfully his wife was finally sleeping so he could come check on their pride and joy for himself. He walked in to the hospital with his hands in his pockets. Mowang stepped up to the front desk and asked," what room is Hóng Hái'ér in?"

"Who?" The nurse asked as she looked up at him confused. Mowang mentally slapped himself for thinking Red son be in the hospital under that name. Damn he was foolish.

"I mean Red son what room is Red son in?" Mowang said after he cleared his throat.

"ohh let me check for you they changed his room earlier" The desk nurse said as she typed the name into the computer. She got him out a visitors pass and a pen," he's in room 308. Third floor fifth door to your left in the second hallway. Write your name on the pass then clip it your shirt."

"alright thank you ma'am." DBK said as he wrote down his name on the pass. He put it on his shirt and went to the elevator. There stood Wukong and the dragon horse descendant. Wukong looked at him surprised as Mowang walked in to the elevator. The girl was holding way to many snacks to notice him.

"didn't expect to see you in that big guy" Wukong only lightly teased as he pressed the button for the third floor,"where's the princess?"

"at home asleep. She was rather upset this morning" Mowang said as he crossed his arms.

"wait Bull king?!" The girl said as he stood next to her," how are you-"

"You didn't think the stable boy is the only one who can use glamours right girl?" DBK said as Wukong glared at him.

"oh...then why weren't you here earlier today with your wife?" Mei asked defensively trying to intimidate him with her glare. It had no affect.

"I was not aware of how ill he was this morning. I thought it was a minor bug and that my wife was just going to retrieve him. However that did not happen" Mowang said as he looked at the doors,"My love came out weeping and said our child was too sick to leave. I had to take her home and calm her down before arriving here to check on my boy."

"well she didn't leave Red in the best mental state either. How could you two do that to him?" Wukong all but hissed with his arms crossed. Mowang crossed his arms as well annoyed by his sworn brother's antics. Like the monkey knew how to raise a child.

"I will admit we made a mistake but we didn't see this as the outcome. We merely didn't want him to fall in love with someone he'll out live." Mowang said as the tense became thicker by the second. The poor Mei stuck in the middle.

"oh so it wasn't because it was my successor who makes him happy?" Wukong remarked looking at him. Mowang rolled his eyes annoyed.

"Again we were thinking about how long he'd live. Not who he was the successor too. We made a mistake. I planned to apologize" Mowang scoffed. Of course Wukong make it about himself.

"you think apologizing to him is just going to fix the damage that has been done? All the restless nights they both spent crying. Or how utterly shattered Red boy is" Wukong snapped back," if you think he'll even believe that apology you are stupider than I thought"

---

Red son held Mk's hand as Dr.Chu walked in to the room. Thankfully Mei and Wukong went to stretch their legs so Red had the chance to talk to him.

"hello Mr. Son it's good to see some color back in your face. The nurses informed me that we can't do solids right away." The old man said as he looked at Red's chart," but you've been taking fluids well enough to stop the saline drip."

"yes doctor." Red son said as he tightened his grip on noodle boy's hand," can I ask a favor?"

"that depends on the favor Mr.Son" Dr.Chu said as he walked over to Red son's bedside to check his IVs.

"can we keep the pregnancy diagnosis to just the three of us. I...I don't want everyone to know yet." Red son said as Mk rubbed his back. The doctor looked at the young man and thought back to earlier that day. Poor boy's mother seemed over baring. He had told her the man was an adult so he supposed he keep this a secret for now.

"alright I'll alert the nurses as well. I'd like to do an ultrasound to see how far you are since you just found out alright? Also get rid of one of these IVs." The old doctor said reassuringly. Red breathed a relieved sigh for a moment before a shiver went up his back.

His father was in the building. Oh no father had to be livid he didn't want to go home. Mk pulled out the staff and kissed the back of Red's hand.

"hey I'll make sure he stays in the hallway you won't have to see him if you don't want too" Sunshine tried to reassure him. Red son was concerned for his well being though. Sure he'd defeated father once but that was when Mk had been invincible. He wasn't invincible now and father could murder him.

"I'll be fine your uncle's here too you know" Mk said as he got up and though it was reluctant let go of Red son's hand. He walked in to the hospital hallway.

He stood infront of that door closed behind him. Red needed to feel safe and his parents never let that happen. Even if it wasn't their fault Mk still wasn't letting the bull king through that door.

Mowang unnerved by Wukong's gull that he didn't know his own child. Wukong didn't even mentor his own student well. The bull stormed out of the elevator and towards his son's room.

There stood the other boy, his son's partner ready for a fight. A protective stance Mowang knew far to well, he used said stance many times in his life. He slowly walked infront of the boy with his arms crossed.

"may I talk to my son?" Mowang asked suddenly far calmer than he been earlier. It was a respectful tone. This boy did truly have his son's heart after all. That was something he could respect.

"he's talking to the doctor right now and he's very tired" Mk said as he stood his ground his stare having more of an effect than the girl's. That boy was protecting his boy. Thus that meant his boy was scared to see him... Which was soul crushing.

"alright, I'll let him rest. Please just let him know that his mother and I are very sorry about what we did. We were not trying to hurt him. And I know it's hard to understand. I'd like to apologize to you as well Monkie kid." Mowang said as he pulled something out of the bag hanging off his shoulder. He placed it in the boy's free hand," I know we've messed up greatly and it'll take time to repair but know this. You have my blessing so take it and this as they are. Tell my boy we love him dearly."

"Alright...I ...I forgive you but I still can't let you see him" Mk said as he looked at what the bull king put in his hand. It was a gem? He looked the king in confused.

"that is a gem I collected long ago for my boy to use when he found his princess or prince. He helped me pick it out. I believe it be of use to you." Mowang said as he ruffled the boy's hair," he'd most likely still prefer an engagement necklace instead of a band but you know my baby boy very well. I'm going to go now. Take care of him alright?"

"I will" Mk said as he studied the gem. Mowang nodded and left as Wukong and Mei walked over to mk. Mowang sighed as he entered the elevator.

His baby boy was in good hands but he couldn't help but almost cry that his heir was scared to see him.

#lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid au #monkie kid #spicynoodleshipping #lmk dbk #lmk mk #lmk red son #lmk wukong #lmk mei #Dr.Chu #lmk oc

[cellsshapedlikestars]

If you are accepting prompts--how about Sansa and Jon being on opposite sides of a political contest? Prime Minister Rhaegar Targaryen is forced to call a referendum for Northern independence, as demanded by the Northern Nationalists party. He is campaigning in the North for a United Westeros, taking his second wife Lyanna Stark and their son Jon along, toshow how hollow all talk if Northern independence is. However, this means that Jon keeps running into his Stark cousins, particularly Sansa Stark, who accompanies her parents to every debate and campaign rally...

I've been sitting on this for a while (and yes, I do see all the anon prompts, I promise!) and I've sort of been writing this on and off since I got it. The thing is, I have no point of reference for these politics, I'm assuming you wanted something like the Scottish independence movement, which I have almost no knowledge of as I am a dumb American who can barely handle American politics without spiraling into anxiety and depression. So, I've sort of talked around the specifics and hopefully I haven't gotten anything too crazy wrong.

Also, you mention his Stark cousins, but... well, I cannot do modern incest. I can handle them being cousins in olden times where it was acceptable & common (I can't even handle the sibling incest aspect in any time period), but I was writing this modern and that's a hard nope for me. I know it's a fairly predominant part of this fandom and if it's your thing, absolutely have at it! There is no kink shaming in this house. It's just not for me and I couldn't write it, sorry!

Also, as usual, this turned out longer than I intended since these are supposed to be drabbles mostly. But 'drabbles' for me always end up like 2k words

.

Jon sits in the window seat of the jet, headphones on and turned up. Somewhere behind him, he knows his parents are sitting, likely talking strategy. He knows dad wants him to join in, but Jon's in no mood to talk politics. It's what got him in this situation to begin with.

That stupid reporter. Jon's stupid response.

Jon! How do you feel about Northern Independence?

I say let them.

It's what he believes, honestly – if the North wants independence, why not? The rest of the SK treats them like shit anyway, why not let them break off, like Dorne did? It's not a naming issue – they're still called the Seven Kingdoms despite losing Dorne decades ago, so what if they're technically only six now? Jon knows it's about more than that – it's economics and politics and... well, pride. The SK can't lose another piece of their kingdom – nevermind that piece has been conquered and beaten down multiple times over hundreds of years. Northern Independence isn't a new concept – it's just been met with military resistance every time and stamped out. But they aren't in the middle ages anymore.

For a moment he turns his head to look behind him – to see mom with her head bowed in conversation with dad and something ugly twists in Jon's stomach.

He knows dad only married mom because she got pregnant – because his political career was just taking off and a mistress and bastard would have ruined him. And mom, she'd been so young, she's convinced herself he married her for love. Jon swears that mom used to be different. She used to argue with Rhaegar all the time about politics, he even remembers her bringing up Northern Independence when Jon was just a kid. But over the years she's had to play the perfect wife for him and somewhere along the way it just... stuck. Mom isn't his mom anymore. No, mom is what Rhaegar's political advisors want her to be.

So even though Jon had wanted to protest this trip, there's also a part of him desperately clinging to the hope that when they get North, mom will snap out of it. When she's home, maybe she'll be his mom again.

Especially since the leader of the opposition is an old friend of hers.

Ned Stark.

Dad doesn't react to much, he's a politician to his core, so seeing him get riled anytime Ned Stark is on TV is notable. In fact, there's a rebellious part of Jon that already likes Ned Stark simply for the fact that dad hates him so much. There's more to like than just that, Jon knows – Ned Stark seems like one of those politicians that's doing the job because they want to make a difference. They're rare, nowadays, but Jon's been surrounded by politicians his whole life and he can spot the do-gooders from a mile away.

He thinks it's partly why dad hates it – Ned Stark doesn't use the same underhanded tactics Rhaegar's used to, and from everything Jon's heard, there's nothing to use against Ned. The only skeleton dad's advisors had ever found tucked away in Ned Stark's closet had been that his wife, Catelyn, had originally dated his older brother Brandon, who died in a car accident. They'd begun dating and married shortly after - a minor scandal that hadn't gained any traction, considering they've been married for over twenty years with five children.

Dad was hoping to get somewhere with the youngest daughter, Arya, who always seemed more wild than the rest of her siblings (except maybe the youngest, Rickon). The problem is that she's never done anything really wrong and the North loves her. The oldest son Robb is as perfect a son as any politician could hope for and Jon sometimes wonders if dad would rather have Robb than Jon.

The other two sons are still fairly young and going after them would only make dad look like the bad guy. Then there's Sansa.

Jon remembers her from growing up – not that he'd ever met her, but they're both kids of prominent politicians and he's seen her in photos since she was old enough to walk. A proper lady, he remembers even the southern press naming her. Perfect, just like her older brother.

A hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his thoughts and he turns to see mom, who motions at him to take off his headphones.

“We're landing in a half hour and your father would like to go over your role,” she tells him with a perfect, bland smile. (She hasn't been his mother for a very long time.)

“I know my role,” he says and he can't help the bitter tone to his voice. “Stay quite, don't talk to the press. Pretty easy to remember.”

“And yet you still managed to nearly undermine my entire campaign with one flippant remark,” dad's voice calls over from his seat, low and smooth, though Jon absolutely hears the annoyance underneath it.

“Oh, he's just a child,” mom says, trying to play the peacekeeper like she always does.

“He's twenty, he's hardly a child,” dad starts, but Jon doesn't listen to the rest. He pulls his headphones back over his ears and looks back out the window and tries to pretend he's anywhere else.

…

By the time they reach Winterfell Castle, Jon is in a bad mood.

Not that he hadn't been before, but he's not allowed his headphones in the limo and so he'd had to listen to dad talk nonstop about his two favorite topics: Jon's failure as a son and how much he hates Ned Stark. And the way mom doesn't even try to defend Ned Stark like she used to infuriates Jon even more.

Jon hates his tuxedo and he hates that they barely had any time between landing and having to get ready for this dinner and he hates that he's going to have to smile and shake hands with a bunch of people who hate him on principle, simply for who his father is. For what his father represents.

When he does step out of the limo, he ignores every photographer and reporter that shouts his name, eager to get any sort of scandal out of him.

He doesn't blame them for this, he's given them enough over the years – not just his apparent support of Northern Independence, but everything else he's done to gain his notoriety. His reputation as a heartbreaker and a playboy that's mostly over-exaggerated, that time he punched a teacher (though to be fair, Thorne deserved it)... Teenage rebellion, they'd written it off as, but he's no longer a teenager and he knows he should grow up and stop doing things to piss off his father at some point.

(His favorite one had been sleeping with that investigative journalist when he was seventeen. She'd been older than him by a good few years and he'd known she was using him to write an article, but he was using her just as much to infuriate his father. His only true regret is that Ygritte's article hadn't done any real lasting damage to Rhaegar's reputation.)

Inside, there aren't any reporters but there are politicians everywhere and that's worse. He does the bare minimum to not cause an issue – he shakes hands and says hello, though he refuses to smile while doing it. They already hate him for being Rhaegar Targaryen's son. They already hate him for being Northern-traitor Lyanna Snow's son.

He keeps an eye on mom to see how she's doing and his heart twists painfully in his chest when he sees her. She has a bright smile on her face and anyone who didn't know her would think she's fine, but Jon can see how pale she is under her makeup. This is the first time she's been back in the North since she married dad and he has a sudden, sharp pang of hatred for Rhaegar – for getting her pregnant, for marrying her, for never letting her go back. For turning her into this.

He can tell the moment Ned Stark enters the room because mom freezes. And sure enough, there he is – beautiful wife at his side, the three adult children with him. Robb, Sansa, Arya. Jon's eyes scan over them – Robb with his perfect hair and smile, an easy way about him that's always come through even on camera. Sansa standing poised and almost too beautiful to believe – Jon's only ever seen her on film and somehow she's even more unreal in person. Arya, who by all accounts hates politics as much as Jon does, stands firmly by her family and Jon gets the sense she only hates the system, not her dad. Not like Jon.

As Jon scans the room, he can see other families here that he recognizes – the Greyjoys, including Robb Stark's best friend Theon. The Manderlys, the Karstarks, the Ryswells, the Boltons, the Mormonts. More families than Jon cares to remember.

There's a sense of someone behind him and he turns just enough to see that dad has come up to stand next to him. For a moment, dad just stands there before turning his head ever so slightly and bringing his mouth close to Jon's ear and he says so low Jon can barely even hear it - “if you do anything to embarrass me tonight, there will be consequences. If you do anything that makes it seem like you support this pathetic independence movement, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

Jon feels blind rage that winds so hot in his chest it makes him shake and his vision narrow. He has to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he can answer, and he grits out, “of course.” Dad nods and moves away, putting on his best politician smile as he goes to greet Howland Reed.

Mom shoots him a concerned look, but Jon ignores her. He can feel it building in him – that rebelliousness the press likes to talk about so much. He wants to hurt Rhaegar. For everything – for his mother, for all the people dad's stepped on and hurt. He wants to embarrass him, consequences be damned.

Just as he's thinking this, his eyes catch on copper hair and bright blue eyes.

Sansa Stark.

Darling of the press. Perfect Northern princess.

It takes root in his mind, against his better judgment. What would make Rhaegar more furious than an affair between his son and the daughter of Ned Stark?

Jon can't imagine Sansa would be amenable to the suggestion, not like Ygritte had been – there is no mutually beneficial agreement here. She would never agree to do something that might embarrass her father (and once again, Jon is reminded of the, pun intended, stark difference between his relationship with his father and the Stark children's relationship with Ned. Jon has never even met them in person and he knows this).

So he can't approach her with any sort of offer or plan. No, he'd have to pretend it was real.

He's going to have to seduce Sansa Stark.

#jonsa #prompt fic #ask #oooh boy do i know nothing of politics #and political families #do not @ me #is this boring? #probably #jonsa fic

[how-masterful]

To Have Your Cake (And Eat It Too)

Dhawan!master x Reader

Summary: The Master has gotten himself tied up. On your birthday of all days. Stuck in a straightjacket and with no idea how long its going to last, you decide to treat your Time lord with a share of your sweet and sinful birthday desires

Notes: for the second year in a row, this is the official how masterful birthday fic™ for her absolutely beloved @plethora-of-imagines . happy birthday, my love! I hope through all the chaos of losing the first draft, flaky internet connections, and a crippling desire for this fic to work out, you hopefully enjoy your birthday gift! 🥳❤💫

this fic was partly inspired by this piece of artwork by @/thoscheii

The Master tugged angrily on his arms, for the fifth time that minute. He grit his teeth together, yanking his shoulders downwards. 

It was a fruitless effort. 

The straight jacket still refused to budge.

“I’ve tried everything, Master. You really are stuck in there until those time locks fall off.”

He tugged once more, before sighing and sinking back into his chair.

“Great. Absolutely magnificent.”

It was a stupid idea. You’d told him as such. The planet of the bachelors, solo men that thrived on their isolation from women. Females within the species simply didn't exist. The Master had seemingly decided the best idea in the universe, something he’d say about every new plan, would be to try and blend in in order to steal some exciting world destroying weapons (and obviously refuse to tell you about the details). It would be an absolute piece of cake, he’d decreed as soon as he’d planned it- sneak in, steal the plans, sneak out. It would only take fifteen minutes or so. That was 7 hours ago.

However, in his pride and… underestimation of the species’ intelligence, he’d made a single, glaring oversight.

He hadn't taken the bloody wedding ring off of his finger.

“Have you really tried everything?”

You turned from your position leant against the console, sending him an offended expression. The Tardis hummed and whirred in your defence.

“Yes! Every single idea you gave me!”

“Are you sure?”

You widened your eyes in an expression that hopefully conveyed to him it wouldn't be wise to ask again. The Tardis beeped rapidly, hoping to dissolve the tension. Still leaning against the console you folded your arms, looking down at your husband. 

“Yes, Master. I promise. I really think you’re just gonna have to wait this one out.”

The Master let out a loud and rather obnoxious groan. He let his head fall back, scrunching up his face in a look of pure annoyance. But even that expression of disappointment, and most likely rage, couldn't be fully executed. The thick red collar that sat around his neck propped up his head like a neck brace.

To his credit, taking off his ring wasn't something he had to do often. Since the day he’d put it on for the first time it never seemingly came off. That was part of his overt sentimentality that you secretly adored. Plus, it hadn’t caused any problems for the pair of you. The ring, a golden band engraved with endless circular Gallifreyan, sat snugly on his finger and often shone, even in low light. It acted as a symbol, a sign to other creatures great and small that he was indeed a taken Time Lord. It matched your own, your wedding band sharing the same design that comfortably nested itself upon your own hand. Of course, yours had to share a finger with the engagement ring- a white point star, shrunken perfectly to sit and shimmer in a band forged from the oldest nugget of gold in the universe.

You looked down at the ring, smiling fondly at the glimmering star that sat on your finger. It shifted and refracted at even the smallest of movements, even in the low light of the Tardis. From there you looked up to see the Master still trying to flop back his head, grumbling and muttering something most likely threatening to himself. You tilted your head, watching him struggle, before carefully making your way over to sit yourself down in his lap. Taking his face in your hands you carefully brushed over his cheeks with your thumbs, the anger and rage that simmered in his expression slowly melting away as he stared up at you with a rare, rather defeated expression.

It wasn't often that the Master was the one in need of saving. At least in the typical, damsel in distress sort of way. It was no secret that the Master had a history of getting in over his head, especially when it came to the Doctor and their centuries long rivalry- from the Autons all the way to the Kasaavin, the Master would sometimes need that extra helping hand. But with you, he was always so proudly in command. The Master of the situation, one could say. With you he would stride in, proudly taking control over every situation: if you were in danger he’d burst in burning with unstoppable rage, guns blazing- more likely TCE blazing, and would happily destroy anything and anyone that was in the path between you and him. Only now it was him that required the whole rescuing thing.

Seeing him like this, bound in a jacket with timed locks that simply refused to budge, almost made him look humbled. But of course he wouldn't let something so small destroy his persistent (And slightly enjoyable) egomania.

“It suits you, y’know.”

The Master rolled his eyes.

“Is that your way of making me feel better?”

“I’m serious. I never thought I'd say it, but you suit a collar and straight jacket.”

The Master bit back a laugh, sending you an incredulous expression.

“Really? Is that so? Because I feel like a knock off Houdini. Even I don't deserve that.”

You pouted dramatically, sticking out your bottom lip. Your hand reached up to ruffle his already messy hair, earning an even angrier scowl.

“You’re enjoying yourself far too much. Just you wait until I get out of here.”

“Aw, is the big bad Master angry he's got his collar on and matches his wife?”

The Master gave a reluctant laugh, narrowing his eyes like a cat. You tickled under his chin with your fingers, enjoying watching him attempt to squirm away. You could tell he was trying so hard to seem offended, but the way he subtly titled his head to grant you more access to the strip of skin under his chin made you believe otherwise. 

It was also undeniable that the thick red collar that sat around his neck matched your own. It seemed, to the Master, that his collaring of you was a pre marriage arrangement. Your own was a rich, purple leather that curved around your throat, lined with golden velvet that sat flush against your skin. Golden hardware, buckles and rings decorated the piece, making the thing look incredibly lavish and expensive- and judging by the Masters taste, it probably was.

“Don't patronise me, love.”

The Master was scowling again. It looked rather cute. You placed a quick peck to the top of his forehead, watching him scowl in return.

“I can't help it Master, you look like a kicked puppy. All grumpy and angry. You know Its your own fault you got into this mess.”

The Master opened his mouth, ready to argue to the ends of the earth as to how he wasn't responsible for the consequences of his own actions. This argument was neither new, nor something you wanted to get into again.

 Suddenly, you had a thought. It was a naughty thought, rather nefarious. 

Though not deadly, the thought was slightly dangerous. If only for what the Master might do when he finally got free. Yes, this was an ample opportunity for you to follow through, and use the new situation to your advantage. He’d be so proud, you thought, if it wasn't him in said situation. 

You pushed your finger against the Master's lips, catching the Time Lord slightly off guard. Once again, his eyes narrowed.

“Move. Your. Finger.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the universal symbol of shut up and listen, Master.”

The Time Lord pressed his lips into a thin line, glaring absolute daggers in your direction. Slowly you pulled your finger away from his lips, moving your face so close your noses almost touched.

“Fine, I'm listening.”

“Of all the days, Master. You had to choose today. Lucky for you, the Tardis thinks there's not much time left on those time locks. Lucky for me, it gives me just enough time to have some fun with you.”

If the Master's eyes were narrow before, now they were creeping wide. You could see the calculations his brain was performing behind his eyes, all the thoughts and possibilities swirling around in his head like brain soup. Rarely was the Master ever in a situation where somebody intended to have fun with HIM. Usually it was the other way around. This was a new sensation, a feeling of which the Master in all his years of existence had yet to fully comprehend.

Was this… what nervousness felt like?

It wasn't long until he was about to find out.

In all his time, cataloguing his thoughts and trying to figure out what you could possibly mean, the Master failed to notice you slipping from his lap and heading off towards the kitchen. With a skip in your step, you quickly made your way towards the piece of delicious, freshly baked cake that sat under the crystal glass dome on the counter top-  grabbing a fork on your journey back as you circled, returning to the door from which you came.

Quickly scarpering back to the console room, you could see the Master still thinking, his eyebrows furrowed as he tugged at the jacket once more. He really did look like a curious cat, sneering at the problem at hand while also being absolutely fascinated. You carefully made your way towards the Time Lord, letting out a small cough to break him from his focus. Suddenly, his head snapped up towards you, his mess of hair flying backwards as he looked from your smug expression to the plate in your hand, before turning back to your face with a knowing look.

The large triangle of birthday cake, decorated in thick frosting and rainbow sprinkles, sat upon the fine china plate. 

“What are you up to now?”

“You decided to get yourself tied up on my birthday. You’re going to enjoy this slice of cake with me even if I have to feed you it by hand. Now open.”

The Master watched intently as you held the fork to his lips, sending you an unimpressed expression.

“There's nothing on it.” he deadpanned.

“I know that,” you sighed. “Hold it for me while I get myself comfortable.”

The Master rolled his eyes, before opening his lips and taking the fork between his teeth. He looked like those flamenco dancers that would brandish a rose in their mouth while dancing, only slightly less flamboyant. Though the Master definitely was no stranger to flamboyance, if his past regenerations and even more recent plans were anything to go off.

“What on earth are you planning?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, watching you precariously place the plate upon his thigh. His eyes watched with absolute wonder as he saw what you were doing.

Carefully, in front of the Time Lord, you began to tug at the hem of your underwear from beneath the already rather short dressing gown- the pile of clothes you’d rescued him in already sat in a pile in the corner of the room. You slowly shimmied your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving your body as you purposely drew out your movements. You could tell the Master was fascinated, the way his chest had begun to rise and fall slightly faster than usual. Methodically you teased him, slipping the underwear from your legs and throwing them on to the pile. Your hands then slowly wandered to the Master's knees, the Time Lord taking in a deep breath as you fiddled with the zipper of his trousers, pulling it down to expose his underwear. You took hold of the plate on his thigh before it toppled, using your other hand to pull down the waistband of the Masters underwear, carefully freeing the Masters hardening cock. You could hear him let out a low, guttural groan behind the fork.

Without breaking his gaze you straddled over his thighs, pushing your body against his own as you sank yourself down to sit on his now firm cock. You gasped softly as you felt him inside you, the Masters left eye practically twitching as he bit down on the fork in his mouth. You rocked backwards and forwards a couple times, settling yourself down in his lap, before you brought the plate to sit between your chest and his own. Soon after, you finally reached to pull the fork from between his teeth. The Master was staring at you, wordlessly, lightly panting for breath as you smiled oh so innocently.

“There,” you teased. “Much comfier.”

The Master was working his way towards catching his breath.

“You know… if you were anybody else… I'd kill you for this.”

You laughed lightly, measuring out the size of the first bite with the prongs of the fork.

“Good. Because if anybody else did this to you, I'd kill them as well. You’re my husband after all.”

“You’re getting far too cheeky, love. I think you need reminding who's in charge here.”

You leant forwards in the Masters lap, purposely shifting your hips. You couldn't help but smile at the involuntary gasp he gave.

“What are you going to do, Master? Spank me? With what hands?”

The Master met your gaze, matching your expression. Your faces were mere inches away from each others, your eyes daring each other to make the next move.

“You’re in so much trouble after this.”

“You can't punish the birthday girl, Master. That's just plain old rude.”

The Master chuckled fondly.

“Forgive me for misplacing my manners, dearest. I must’ve left them with my hands.”

“Apology accepted.”

You nipped at the end of his nose with your teeth, before giggling cheekily and leaning in for a kiss. The Master, in all his superiority and domination, couldn't help but kiss back. He always failed to stay fully angry at you. Your noses brushed together as you stole a kiss from each other's mouths, the pair of you dissolving into quiet laughter once you parted. 

“Let me have this moment, Master. Please.”

The Master pondered for a moment, tilting his head dramatically to the side and watching your hopeful expression blossom onto your face. He huffed out a sigh, looking up at you with another defeated expression. Only this one was full of genuine fondness.

“Fine.” he sighed finally. “Because it's your birthday.”

Your smile was absolutely beaming. You pulled the end chunk of cake onto the fork, holding it up to the Masters mouth. The frosting was almost dripping back onto the plate from the fluffy, bite sized piece. He parted his lips, waiting for you to place the cake into his mouth.

“Say please, Master.”

“Don't push it, Y/n.”

You simply shrugged in return, before placing the cake into the Master's mouth. As he chewed you gently began to circle your hips, lightly moving atop his cock, generating a small amount of friction. The Master gave a quiet moan, letting his eyes flutter shut as the cake melted on his tongue. He licked at his lips, catching the small trail of frosting and sprinkles that had remained on his lips.

“How is it?” you purred softly.

The Master smacked his lips together, before giving a lazy smile.

“I’m enjoying myself more than I anticipated.”

“Poor Master, did you think I was going to torture you?”

The Master chuckled as you offered him another piece of cake, parting his lips and watching you intently as you teasingly pulled the fork slowly from his mouth. You continued to twist and circle your hips, the Master's eyes watching you almost hypnotically. You could feel a hot flush begin to creep up your face, the apples of your cheeks blushing a sweet red as your shoulders began to relax. The Master smirked, watching you break off another chunk of the sprinkle covered cake. Only this time you placed it into your own mouth.

You could see why the Master reacted so positively. The flavours swirled and collided in your mouth, your taste buds exploding with sensory pleasure. Your hips swivelled and rocked, much like clockwork, as you rolled your head over your shoulders and gave a deep moan of pleasure.

“Shit, that's a good cake.” you admitted, fluttering open your eyes. The Master was licking his lips, hands lightly tugging on the straightjacket as you licked the frosting from your teeth.

“It's almost as nice as our first wedding cake.”

“Go on, take another bite.”

Weakly, you nodded, breaking off another chunk with the fork and placing it on your tongue. The ‘yes Master’ you gave was almost a whisper.

You did the same for your husband, feeding him another chunk of the cake while continuously building a rhythm of motion atop his cock. The Master was groaning, harder than before, a light sweat beginning to form on his brow. He couldn't help but notice how much closer you’d pressed yourself to his torso, the cake almost sliding from the plate that was now practically diagonal against your chest.

“Y’know, it's not the first time I've worn something like this.” the Master admitted between mouthfuls.

“Seriously?” your voice was almost lost behind a moan.

“White straightjacket, red collar, I think they- fuck- chose something from my personal history to cage me in.”

The Master was now beginning to thrust his hips up against yours, jostling your rhythm and causing you to give a shocked gasp of pleasure. The plate almost fell from your chest, barely being caught by your spare hand and the edge of the fork.

“Master, yes-”

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the guttural moan you wanted to give. The sweetness of the cake mixed with the burning deep in your belly was causing your senses to go into overdrive. The Master was methodical, thrusting up as best he could with the top of his body tied in place. His movements were sending chills shooting up your spine, knowing exactly how to make you gasp for breath and beg for more. He always knew exactly what you desired, his body and mind instinctively understanding every primal desire you had. Maybe you were just obvious. Or perhaps he was more sentimental than he let on.

Soon the once imposing slice of cake was nothing more than a single section. Crumbs and sprinkles poked from the corners of your mouth and onto your lips, the Master's teeth gnashing upwards in a bid to lick them away. Your speed and ferocity had increased to the point where you needed to stabilize yourself atop the Masters thrusting cock. Both of you had begun to sweat. Something needed to give.

“Master, I need, fuck-”

“I swear to god, let me taste you.”

The Master was panting like an animal.

“The plate-”

“Fuck the plate. I’ll buy you as many as you want. Come here, do as you’re told.”

You gave an inhumane snarl as the fork clattered to the floor, your fingers grasping hold of the last square of cake. Frosting oozed down your fingers as you relented your grip on the plate, the small black plate crashing down onto the hard wood and shattering into thousands of shards. The Master opened wide as you bucked your hips, your fingers pushing the cake firmly against his mouth. Sprinkles and crumbs smeared over the Masters lips as you abandoned all inhibition, your own mouth diving in to follow as your lips crashed together in an animalistic kiss. Teeth and tongues slashed and battled for control as the sweet concoction oozed down your throats, the taste of the frosting melting into the taste of each others mouths.

Crumbs and sticky decoration stained the clean white straightjacket as your fingers clasped hold of the Masters shoulders, your forehead pushing against his as he snarled into the kiss. Your hips thrusted furiously against his own, the pair of you rising and falling against the back of the chair as you begged for friction and every sensation you were willing to share. Your fingers fisted into the back of the Master's hair, the other hand stroking down his back and running over the intricate set of time locks that connected the jacket together in an intricate lattice of latches. You tugged on them as you went, growing deeper into the kiss as you bounced yourself up and down in the Masters lap. 

You could feel yourself getting close to the precipice of satisfaction, the Master's teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his tongue licked over the mess. Your noses pushed together as you hissed in delight, your body clamouring for release as you whined pathetically in his ear.

“Master, so close” you begged, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth.

The Master snapped his teeth together, pushing his forehead against his own.

“Don't you dare cum” he barked, groaning as you licked down the side of his face.

“Please, please I can't-”

“Listen to your Master” he growled in your ear. As if that would do anything but make it worse.

The Master continued to thrust and groan, his face flush almost as red as his collar as he edged you closer and closer to release. You struggled to even control your mouth, groans and cries of pleasure escaping your throat as you completely fell apart in the Masters lap. Everything was building up inside of you, your body absolutely ready to feel the warm wave of release course through your very being. All you were waiting on was the Masters word.

And then it finally arrived.

“Cum”

You felt your whole body ricochet from the sudden release of pressure. Your scream was painfully desperate as you felt yourself fold into nothingness in the Masters lap. You gave in completely, the warmth spreading through your entire body as you climaxed hard and fast upon the Masters still hard cock. Tears were mixing with the streaming sweat as you slumped forward against the Master's chest, the Time Lord chuckling as your exhausted eyes fluttered shut on impact. You were about to sleepily flirt, much like usual, sweetening the already malleable Master with your flattering words and praises, when a loud bang sent your eyes flying wide open.

One by one, the time locks that ran up the Masters spine unclasped and plummeted down to the floor, collecting in a heap as they slid through the back of the chair. You picked your head up to look at the Master, sweat dripping from his brow and sprinkles caught in his stubble, watching as the Time Lords face slowly began to spread into a dangerous grin. You felt a chill go down your spine as he slowly began to unfold his arms, forcing you to sit up in his lap, supporting yourself by pushing down on his thighs.

“Well then”

The Master purred, pulling his arms free from their clasps. His fingers wriggled within the triangle shaped tip of the sleeve, his hands reaching up to slickly unclasp the thick red collar from around his neck. It fell to the floor, joining the locks, fork, and what was left of the plate. He looked down at you with a typical, Masterful, Cheshire cat grin.

“Would you look at that?”

Instinctively you gulped, looking up at the Master as he lifted your chin with his cloth covered fingers.

“Now I don't know about you, love, but I've noticed you’ve been getting a little bit too cheeky for my liking.”

At best, you sent him a weak smile. You knew what was about to happen.

“And I have hands now. Lucky, lucky you.”

“I'm guessing you’re going to punish me now, aren't you Master?”

The Master shushed you, tutting as he shook his head. He still clasped your chin in his hand.

“You said it yourself, dear. I can't punish the birthday girl. But I can encourage her to help me get the release I so lovingly provided for her. It's only fair, after all. If there happens to be a lesson or two learned in the process? Call that an added bonus.”

You chuckled weakly as the Master guided you to stand, supporting your still twitching hips as you sent him a wry smile.

“Y’know Master, there's a phrase we have on earth. You can't have your cake and eat it too.”

The Master tilted his head, his mouth making a small ‘o’ shape as he crooked an eyebrow. It soon melted away into a gentle smile, his fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh, my love.” he grinned, a chuckle building in his throat as he pecked the top of your forehead.

“I just did.”

All of a sudden you felt yourself being lifted into the air, the impact of the Masters shoulder against your stomach knocking the wind out of your system. He barked out a proud laugh as he raised a hand to spank your already reddened ass, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh of your hip as you gave a surprised yelp.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” he cried, laughing as he carried you towards the bedroom, where god knows what painful pleasure awaited you.

“I hope the birthday girl has room for seconds!”

#doctor who #sacha dhawan #the master #bbc doctor who #dhawan!master #bbc #sacha!master #spymaster #doctor who season twelve #dhawan!master / reader #dhawan!master x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #master x you #the master x you #the master x reader #reader #reader insert

[breakyeol]

— SQUIRM, BABY.

You don’t like Doh Kyungsoo. Especially not when he’s got his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you and your seeing stars —goddamn stars!— but can’t make a sound unless you want the entire library to know exactly what he’s doing to you under the table.

┗ Pairing: Tutor!Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: college au, tutor au, enemies w benefits au, smut

Words: 4.7k 

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, sexual acts in a public setting, fingering

A/N; tomorrow is going to be my 1 year anniversary as an EXO-L!! oh my goodness that feels so crazy, time really flies. so here is a little present from me to you, enjoy lovelies!!

“These are all wrong,” Kyungsoo mutters blankly, “start over.”

A loud groan is ripped from your throat, the sound earning you more than a few sideways glares from the surrounding tables but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been here for two hours, studying one of the most intolerable subjects in the world: Calculus. The mere mention of its name made you shiver in disgust.

To be blunt, you’d always been shit at math. Numbers and equations were never your strong suit, not in high school and definitely not now with the added complexities of derivatives and differential equations (neither of which made even the slightest bit of sense to you). You much preferred the gentleness of literature and history to the strict logic and rules of mathematics and science. Unfortunately for you, the latter subjects were just as vital a part of your education, and opting out of them was not an option.

“Can’t we take a break?” You almost whine the question, pressing your fingers into your throbbing temples. “My brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“No.”

You scowl at the bluntness of his rejection. “I’m paying you.” You point out, stabbing a finger into his bicep for emphasis. “Shouldn’t I have a say in when we take a break?”

He rolls his eyes, swatting your hand away and shoving the paper back in your direction. “I’m giving you your money’s worth. Do it again.”

You let out a noisy huff of air, slouching over dramatically in the stiff plastic chair until your chin is pressed against the cold table. “I hope you know I am deeply regretting some of my life decisions right about now.” You grumble, shooting him an icy glare that you hope conveys the absolute loathing you feel for both him and the set of problems laid before you.

“I thought that was a daily thing for you.”

Scoffing, you bury your mouth in the thick sleeve of your hoodie. “Your face is a daily thing for me.”

He doesn’t even bother to look at you, though you could almost feel the intensity of his deadpan. “I think that was the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“Your face is the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“You do realize that that makes absolutely no sense.”

“Your fa—”

“Shut up and do your work.”

He either doesn’t hear or consciously chooses to ignore the colorful array of curses you grumble spitefully in his direction, though simultaneously resigning yourself to the fact that you won’t be able to put off your work inevitably. Kyungsoo was a stickler for proper time management. If he had an agenda set in place for your tutoring session (which he always did), then you better believe he’d be checking off each item within its designated time frame. And if you don’t cooperate— well then, your best bet is to pray that there isn’t a mechanical pencil within his reach.

He might not always be able to reach the top shelf, but Kyungsoo had ways of getting what he wanted. Usually, that chilling glare was enough to get those around him to bend to his will. He could be a scary little shit when he wanted to be. You’ll admit, even you had been the tiniest bit intimidated when you first met him. He was quiet, reserved, strict in manner, but also the dangerous unpredictable type, you gathered that much quickly enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you didn’t get on too well.

Where he was cool and standoffish, “a man of few words” some might say, you were more vocal about your opinions, social by nature, always eager to meet new people and make new connections. You had a tendency to speak loudly when excited and talk with your hands when passionate about a subject. That was something most people learned about you very quickly. Unfortunately, upon your first official meeting at a party in your freshman year with your mutual friends, Kyungsoo had no idea just how emphatic you could be until you’d knocked his drink clean out of his hand and spilled it down the front of his brand new shirt.

It was an accident, of course. You’d apologized profusely and he’d accepted it (albeit somewhat begrudgingly), but that was probably the first of many missteps in your... unique relationship.

With such conflicting personalities, it was understandable that you got into frequent arguments about one thing or another. Petty disagreements would often grow into something larger than they really needed to be. Mostly because despite having such contrasting personalities, you shared the trait of innate stubbornness, neither of you willing to admit when you were wrong. It was easy to argue with him, and you liked when you proved him wrong. You liked the way his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed. You liked the way he glared, the way his lips pouted. You like the challenge he presented you with every time he opened his mouth. Above, you loved to win. Especially when it was against him.

So you pushed, and he pushed right back. And before you knew it, you found yourself a proper ‘frenemy’, though you aren’t sure that that’s quite the right word to describe whatever it was you two were.

But that’s just how the two of you are, how you’d always been. If you were being honest, riling him, seeing that usually so stoic, so controlled expression crack when you pushed just the right buttons— it was fun. You thoroughly enjoyed fucking with him, discovering new and creative ways to get under his skin. And you knew he got just as much satisfaction from doing the same to you, rendering you speechless with witty comebacks, flustering you with his sharp tongue and impressive rebukes.

So really, was it such a terrible thing?

Not to mention, a number of not-so-terrible things occurred as a result of one of your many arguments, such as hiring him as your calculus tutor. One that started out with you claiming he would probably be the shittiest teacher to ever exist (which seemed a valid argument at the time considering how short tempered and impatient he could be *cough* with you *cough*) to which he rebutted with the claim that he could “teach a goldfish advanced calculus” if he set his mind to it, and considering that you “had an IQ equivalent to one”, he could without a doubt teach you. His words, obviously.

It just so happened that you had a calculus exam coming up that next week, so to prove his point, he tutored you for the three days preceding said test. Even though you loathe being proven wrong, you ended up getting one of the highest scores you’d ever gotten on a math test in your entire academic career.

Putting your pride aside, you made the suggestion that he continue to tutor you. He only agreed when you offered him green in exchange for his troubles and admitted that he was right (it took a few extra hours to convince yourself that your grades should be held above your ego before you could bring yourself to verbally admit defeat).

And now here you are, not flunking out of calculus. You’d consider that worthy of the bruise to your pride, even if only by a small margin.

“Kyungsoo, why’d you mark this one wrong?” You frown at the large red X marking problem two as incorrect. You’d been glaring at your scribbled work for almost two minutes, running over the problem in your head, but you couldn’t seem to figure out where he thought you’d gone wrong. It looks right enough to you.

Kyungsoo shifts over to get a better look, his arms pressing against yours in the process and you are briefly stunned by the sudden, unexpected closeness, wholly unable to stop yourself from noticing the faint, woody scent of his aftershave that caresses your senses. Fuck. You can’t tell if you hate or love the fact that he smelled so good. Partly love it because good hygiene is always something to admire in a man (even if that man was Doh Kyungsoo), partly hate it because dammit it’s Doh Kyungsoo and you loathe finding anything that has to do with him attractive. Plus, it’s distracting. You’re here trying to learn and he has the audacity to go around smelling like pine trees and fresh moss after a rainfall. Unfair.

“Right here.”

The scowl you don’t realize you’re wearing immediately drops away as the low baritone of his voice thrums through the cavity of your ribcage and you lean forward to see exactly what he’s pointing at.

“You multiplied straight through instead of distributing.” He explains further upon seeing the uncertainty on your face. A few seconds of further inspection and you finally see what he’s talking about.

“Fuck,” you hiss, “I’m so stupid.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make.” He reassures.

“Yeah, but I should know that by now, I should’ve—” you turn your head, only to nearly choke on air as you discover that any space that once existed between the two of you has virtually disappeared, “... seen it.”

He’s close, so close that you can feel the cool rush of his breath against your skin as he exhales, goosebumps bristling across your arms in response. He’s close. Too close. You can’t think straight, can’t even breathe. The moment that surrounds you feels fragile, like even the slightest disruption would rupture it completely.

Frozen, you can only swallow around the sudden dryness of your mouth as your treacherous eyes drop to trace the plush line of his lips. Who even has lips like that? They’re just so big and so pink, that dark, kissable kind of pink that every girl just wishes her lips could be. You, included. They look soft, and you can’t help but to wonder if they’d still taste like the strawberry bubblegum he’d been chewing on at the beginning of your tutoring session.

“Careful, ___.” The sound of Kyungsoo’s voice, raspier than you recall it being before and laced in a faintly taunting pitch, is enough to break you from your trance and, once freed, you whip your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash.

“Fuck off.” You cough, jaw clenching as you attempt to drag your mind out from the gutter and back onto the calculus problems you have yet to correct. But for whatever reason your brain refuses to cooperate, instead filling your head with images of his pretty mouth and everything it could be doing instead of rambling on about something as uninteresting as calculus. Damnit.

No doubt seeing the distress written clearly across your face, Kyungsoo chuckles, the sound low and smooth where it drips from his lips, and a familiar heat blossoms in the pit of your stomach.

You can feel his eyes on you now, every cell of your being suddenly hyperaware of his presence beside you. The pressure of his knee where it nudges against yours, the teasing curl of his lips as he watches you struggle to focus, the warmth of his palm caressing up your thigh, the— wait what?

Your gaze whips down, breath hitching at the sight of Kyungsoo’s hand gently gripping the lagging clad flesh just above your knee. It’s another few seconds before you’re able to find your voice again.

“W– What’re you—?”

“Focus.” He cuts you off smoothly, fingers soothing over the inside of your leg, squeezing gently. When you don’t look away from him, he smirks, jerking his chin forward in a manner you can only interpret as challenging. There’s a familiar glint in his eye, a dangerous glint that doesn’t fail to provoke your competitive side. You know that look well. He’s challenging you.

And you don’t back down from a challenge.

Especially not from Doh Kyungsoo.

Determination flairs up inside of you, your jaw clenching as you strike him with a single, heated glare that read plain and simple ‘you. are. on.’ before honing all your attention onto the worksheet in front of you. It’s not too difficult to focus at first, to disregard the tingles that erupt across your skin where his hot touch sears into it. You manage to find and correct your error in one of the problems (impressive for you even if Kyungsoo wasn’t feeling your leg up under the table).

But whatever pride you find in doing so is quickly quelled when his hand suddenly shifts higher, and you feel the faintest pressure against your heat. It’s a sensation that robs you of your ability to breathe entirely for a handful of seconds, and you can’t stop the shiver that ripples down your spine.

This, you see, is one of the more recent developments in your oh-so complicated relationship with Doh Kyungsoo. Yet another that began with a disagreement at a party, over something you can’t even remember anymore thanks to the haze of alcohol that clouded both your minds at the time, that spiraled way out of proportion. You remember yelling at him, insulting him, stabbing your finger into his chest, feeling the sting of his lethal glare. God, he’d looked so pissed off, and you just fed off of it, fed off the rage and the frustration that festered like lava in those dark brown eyes. The angrier he got, the harder you pushed, until he finally snapped.

You’re still not sure what you expected to happen. What you expected him to do. But you sure as hell hadn’t anticipated him grabbing you by the throat and pulling you into one of the hottest, most mind numbing kisses you’d ever experienced.

Next thing you remember is being in a bed. Whose bed it was, isn’t important. What is important, however, is the fact that that night you had the best sex of your entire life with the man you thought you couldn’t stand.

Hate sex with Doh Kyungsoo opened your eyes to a whole new world of mind boggling pleasure that you’d never experienced before. Pleasure that no other person had ever been able to give you. God, the things he did to you. No one had ever touched you like that before. It was like he knew all the places on your body that made you unravel. He honestly ruined all other men for you that night because none have even come close to comparing. Which was beyond frustrating especially considering that, at the time, you thought it was a one time thing.

The morning after you both pretended that nothing happened. In the two weeks following as well, neither one of you mentioned it. You tried to erase the memory from your brain, tried to go back to normal, but it was hard considering every time you needed some sexual release (which was more often than you care to admit), it was his hands, his mouth, his cock that you imagined while you touched yourself. You replayed his moans in your head, his deep, rasping voice growling your name, and fuck, you never came harder.

But it was still nothing compared to the real thing.

As time passed you only grew more and more frustrated. Worst of all, you could tell he was feeling it too. It was obvious in the way he looked at you, with fire burning in eyes, in the way he spoke to you, with a pitch of something hot and wanting in his voice, in the way he lost his cool far quicker and far more often than he had in the past, your arguments fiercer and more frequent than they’d ever been. The tension between the two of you was palpable, thick enough to be cut with a knife. It got to the point where even your most oblivious of friends started noticing it as well, though they knew better than to voice their curiosity.

The second time it happened, you were both sober and, somehow, it was even better than you remembered. The pleasure was more intense, more overwhelming, a feeling you can’t even put into words. Then it kept happening. Late at night when he’d show up unannounced at your door. Early in the morning when you had an important exam later in the day and you needed some pre-test de-stressing. Between classes in the back seat of his car just because you could. At parties when your friends were too shit faced to notice the two of you slipping into an unoccupied bedroom.

Just sex. That’s what you both agreed to when it became blatantly obvious that your little ‘arrangement’ wouldn’t be coming to an end any time soon. No strings. Just sex. Just really, really good sex.

And that was perfectly fine by you.

Exhaling shakily through your nose, you try to block out the feeling of his thumb as it begins to caress gently up and down your clothed core, suddenly very grateful for the layers of fabric that separate you from his intoxicating touch. But it’s a gratitude that’s short lived. Just as you manage to adjust and scribble down a correction, he cups his hand over your mound and squeezes. A gasp escapes you, and you try to cover up the sound with a series of short coughs, the sting embarrassment intertwining with the warmth of pleasure as a few eyes briefly glance in your direction.

“You’re such an asshole.” You hiss under your breath, thighs tightening around his hand, locking it in place.

He throws you a lopsided grin, brows lifting and you don’t miss the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I’ve been called worse.” What he means is you’ve called him worse.

Your lips part, but any intelligible words die on the tip of your tongue as he grinds the heel of his palm down, directly against your clit. Your head drops, eyes squeezing shut, teeth locking down firmly on your lower lip in order to silence the soft moan that threatens to break free.

“F- fuck.”

You hear him coo tauntingly beside you at your slip, the tips of his skilled fingers easily locating your entrance and prodding experimentally. At this point, you don’t doubt he can feel the fabric of your leggings growing hot and wet with your arousal.

Despite being used to the quick effect he had on your body, you can help but to feel the slightest twinge of shame at how he was able to rile you up this much with little more than a few well-placed strokes of his fingers. But fuck, it felt so good. You’d already been feeling somewhat deprived since you’d both been so busy this past week with exams and projects and what not. This is the first time you’re spending time with him since almost a week ago.

And you are in need of a fix.

“You look like you’re having a bit of trouble on that problem. Do you need my help?” Kyungsoo leans into you, his face right up next to yours, and you have to resist the sudden urge to kiss him right then in there in front of everyone in the stupid library.

Instead, you grit out an unconvincing, “I’m fine,” and force yourself to stay focused on the dizzying mess of numbers and letters on the worksheet in front of you and not on the delicious warmth of his hand where it is applying just the right amount of pressure to keep you teetering between pleasure and the insatiable need for more.

“You sure?” There’s a certain lightness to his voice that tells you he is thoroughly enjoying watching you struggle. Sadistic bastard.

“Positive.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You almost gasp as a rush of cold air fills the places he had been, and you can’t help the frown that tugs at the corners of your lips, disappointment and irritation coloring your features before you can reel them in. From the corner of your eye, you chance a glance in his direction. The smug, knowing little smirk staining his lips sends a wave of heat pulsing into your cheeks, and you grit your teeth in frustration.

“So what, you’re just going to stop?” You whisper sharply, not making any attempt whatsoever to hide your annoyance.

A look of feigned innocence overcomes his features. “You said you didn’t need my help.”

You grit your teeth, glaring at him as hard as you can manage with how incredibly turned on you are. But he remains unfazed.

“If you want my help,” he continues, voice dropping an entire octave, “you’re going to have to ask for it... nicely.”

Nice wasn’t a word in your vocabulary when Kyungsoo was involved.

Seeing the resistance you are still putting up, he feathers his fingers over your thigh, tracing slow designs across the thin, black fabric. You swallow, unable to look away as they trail dangerously higher, teasing closer to where you both knew you wanted them most.

“You do want it, don’t you?”

Fuck, you want it so bad.

You know that he knows you want it. It’s just the getting yourself to actually say it out loud part that proves to be a challenge. But that’s exactly what he wants you to do, he wants to hear you say it, wants to see you cast aside your stubborn pride and beg for it. Beg for him.

Lifting your eyes, you glance unsurely around the library. It isn’t overly crowded anymore since most of the other students have begun to trickle out as late afternoon approaches. Plus, the table you were seated at was tucked into the far back corner of the room, secluded and out of the way. But still, your nerves buzzed at the thought of someone seeing. Though maybe — just maybe — there was a buzz of something else as well. Excitement, perhaps?

Grip tightening around your pencil, you chewed on the corner of your lip, refusing to meet Kyungsoo’s penetrating gaze as you let out a soft murmur. “...ease.”

He leans closer, mirth shimmering in his eyes. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Groaning, you shoot him a scowl, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Please help me, asshole.”

Laughter bubbles at his lips, the genuine kind that makes his cheeks lift and his nose wrinkle. You like it when he laughs like that. Makes him look a lot less like a serial killer.

Sinking his teeth into the pillowy flesh of his lower lip to stifle his laughter, he shoots you a lazy grin, “that’s all you had to say.”

Next thing you know, his hand is slipping beneath the elastic of your leggings and into the soft cotton confines of your underwear. Your mouth fell open, a sharp inhale filling your lungs with cold air as his fingers slid through your slick folds.

“I knew you were wet but shit.” He hisses, thick brows furrowing at the feeling of your heavy arousal coating the length of his digits. “I must say, I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” you breathe, eyes fluttering, “even Chanyeol can get me this— ngh!”

Without warning, he plunges his middle finger inside of you, and the remainder of your sentence pitches into a strangled moan. One look at his face, jaw clenched, nostrils flared, lips down turned, tells you he isn’t all too pleased at the mention of another man’s name, especially when he’s the one buried knuckle deep in your greedy cunt.

A hazy smirk curls onto your lips and you let out a low hum of pleasure, walls squeezing around him. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.”

“Is that why you enjoy pissing me off so much?” He questions, tone biting and low, and you shutter involuntarily as he rolls the pad of his thumb harshly over your aching clit.

“Partly.” You admit, somewhat breathless. “But you’re also just a really fun person to piss off.”

He chuckles dryly in response, though the sound lacks any genuine amusement. “You are such a brat, you know that?” He emphasizes the word by stretching you around a second finger, and you have to drop your pencil in favor of clasping your hand over your mouth, unable to swallow down the soft whimpers that tremble up your throat.

“You love it.” You manage to get out before you’re forced to bite into the tender flesh of your palm to muffle a desperate cry when the slow thrusts of his digits suddenly picks up speed. Your thighs squeeze around his hand, hips jerking up to grind your throbbing clit against the heel of his palm. Electricity ricochets through your veins, and you feel that distinctive tightening in the pit of your stomach. Kyungsoo also feels the way you throb and clench around him, and makes sure to grind down hard against your swollen clit.

Heat immediately spreads through your core, the intensity of the pleasure becoming more than you can handle. “Oh god, Kyungsoo.” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, and you quickly duck your head, doing your best to make it seem like you’re focusing on your work and not the fingers drilling relentlessly into your g-spot, praying to god that no one had seen the blissed out expression on your face. Still, you can’t help the quiet whine that escapes you when his ministrations slow.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” He asks in less than a whisper, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “Ever hear of subtlety?”

“Ever hear of suck my dick?” You snap back without missing a beat, only to jolt as his fingers curl inside of you, pressing directly against that sensitive bundle of nerves. Every muscle in your body tenses, and fuck you’re so close you can almost taste it. Frantically, you thrust your hips, desperately trying to fuck yourself down on his digits.

“Sit still.” He growls, and you quiver when he sinks his teeth into the lobe of your ear, obeying only because you really don’t want to get banned from the campus library if someone happened to catch on.

“Soo— fuck,” the force with which you bite into your lip is nearly about to break the skin, but you can’t be bothered by the pain, not with how quickly your orgasm was approaching. Sensing as much, Kyungsoo goes the extra mile of drawing hard, fast figure eights over your clit with his thumb while simultaneously thrusting his fingers into you so fast that you swear you can almost hear it.

All at once fire roars through your veins, euphoria consuming you as your high crashes over you. Your walls spasm around his digits, painting them with your release.

He doesn’t withdraw from you until you go slack, thighs spreading, body slumping back in your chair, eyes fluttering as a hazy, blissed out smile touches your lips. You can only watch through hooded lids as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, sighing in amazement as he sucks them clean. There’s a twinge of arousal in your core as he moans softly at the taste of you on his tongue, a downright lethal sound that somehow manages to rouse your positively spent pussy.

This man is going to be the absolute death of you one of these days.

“Fuck.” You chuckle airily, heady gaze flickered over him lazily, only to do a double take when you notice something standing upright beneath the zipper of his jeans. The corners of your lips twirled into a mirthful grin, eyebrows raising slowly.

“Need some help with that?”

“Yes.” He answers shamelessly and without hesitation, grunting softly as he adjusts himself in the tight confines of his jeans to make the raging hard-on he’s sporting somewhat less obvious. “But not here.”

“I figured. So... your car or mine?”

“Didn’t you just get a new one with reclining seats?” He questions, running the tip of his tongue over the seam of his lip at the mere implication.

You strike him with a wicked grin, already beginning to shove your things into your bag. “I did indeed.”

“Then what are we— wait.”

“What?”

“You didn’t finish correcting the worksheet yet.” He points out, drumming his fingers across the paper that had completely slipped your mind.

You pull a face, pausing in the act of gathering your belongings long enough to cross your arms pointedly over your chest. “No offense, Kyungsoo, sweetheart, but I’d much rather suck your dick than do one more of those stupid fucking calc problems.”

His brows leap to his hairline, and he offers a single nod of acceptance, in no position to argue with such a valid point.

“Noted.”

#exo imagines #exo oneshot #exo scenarios #exo au #exo smut #exo fluff #Kyungsoo #doh kyungsoo #kyungsoo x reader #exo x reader #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo fic #kyungsoo imagine #Kyungsoo Scenario #kyungsoo oneshot #kyungsoo au #kyungsoo smut #kyungsoo fanfic #kyungsoo fanfiction #exo kyungsoo #d.o. #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #exo

[nobodyfamousposts]

BURN THE WITCH! - Part 8

Finally! It is finished.

Also...warnings I guess for itchiness. And severe scratching due to itchiness.

Here goes:

Lila was prideful. Exceedingly so. But let it not be said she was too prideful to know when it was time to jump ship.

And the ship that was Paris was sinking fast.

All thanks to Ladybug, of course. Because “Little Miss Righteousness” just had to stick her nose into Lila’s business. How dare that insect make a fool out of her?

She would have had to leave soon anyway. While she could certainly come up with a new story to fool her classmates and explain away the previous unfortunate incident, it would still be difficult since they were starting to wise up and it would be harder to keep them under her thumb if she stayed much longer. While the akuma had been dealt with and everyone’s memories erased, Lila didn’t want to take any chances.

Then there was the matter with Hawk Moth. She had some suspicion of his identity—but that was all it was: suspicion. The evidence she had to go on was circumstantial at best. Unless she could find something to confirm it, it was useless. And even if she was right, there wasn’t much likelihood that she would be able to make use of it without proof.

She clenched her fists in growing rage at the reminder.

How dare he turn on her like that?!

There was something that grated at her knowing that she would be leaving things unfinished. That she would be letting him get away unscathed. She at least wanted to get some sort of payback for him leaving her to dry.

If there was any real justice in the world, she would get the chance to try and take his Miraculous for herself. Wouldn’t that be ironic? Especially after how he had cut ties with her.

But now he would expect her to try something. He may even try to take her out himself first. It was what Lila would do in his place.

No, it was better to cut her losses. She still had the an exemplary school record. She still had her position and experience as a model to take with her. She could just move somewhere new and start over. There was nothing worth staying in Paris for anyway. She was getting bored here.

Her decision had absolutely nothing to do with Ladybug’s threat though! Ladybug was clearly the one jealous of her! She wasn’t scared of that pathetic little bug! She was too much of a goody-goody to actually do anything to Lila herself! Ladybug was supposed to be held to a higher standard, after all! She was just bluffing! She wouldn’t actually do anything to her! So Lila had no reason to be scared! And she wasn’t!

It took a moment for Lila to realize her hand holding the phone was trembling. She bit back a curse and clutched the hand with the other to hide it and force the them to still. But when that didn’t work, she set the phone on speaker before putting it on its stand on the table.

Lila’s mother, bless her, was ignorant of this inner turmoil—or if she was aware, she simply attributed it to Lila’s claims. The woman was all too willing to blindly trust her precious daughter. All Lila had to do was use that and soon Paris and all its problems would be nothing but a bad memory.

She busied with drying her hair with a towel while regaling her mother with the tale of the latest attack—albeit a heavily edited version. Honestly though, wasn’t that stupid Cure of Ladybug’s supposed to fix everything to how it was before the attack? So shouldn’t she have been dry already? And back in her new designer clothes?

As it was, her fall in the Seine had left her hair a mess, and she barely had time to simply wash it properly, much less take the good long soak she really craved. She was fortunate enough that there had been time to return home and try to clean up at all. And especially to get rid of those clothes she had “borrowed“ from Marinette’s home. The last thing she needed was to be seen running around in that. Not that there was anything wrong with the clothes themselves, but questions would no doubt arise as to where she had gotten them or why she was wearing them. And the last thing she needed was for her mother and Marinette of all people to meet.

After a moment of consideration, she twisted the towel just enough to cause her pain. With a hiss and a gasp, it sounded quite like she had been crying. Enough to fool someone who was not physically there at any rate.

“I just miss Home. It’s been so long.” She said, ending with a sniffle that may have been partly exaggerated and may have been partly a sign of a cold coming on.

“But what about your friends? You just seemed to be getting so settled in Paris. You even have a boyfriend. From what you’ve been telling me, you two are awfully close. You have a difficult enough time seeing each other as it is. Won’t moving just make it worse?”

Geez, the woman was being annoyingly persistent today.

“We can write and video chat.” Lila replied easily. She could just “break it off” later. Maybe claim he’d been cheating on her. That was usually good for some sympathy points.

Her mother paused at that. “But long distance relationships are much more difficult. And I thought you liked it in Paris? You’ve been doing so well here. I hadn’t seen you so happy in a long time.”

Of course she’d been happy. She had people devoted to her every whim, fame and connections as a model, and a cushy front row seat to the downfall of that so-called hero.

Lila narrowly avoided clicking her tongue in irritation. Why did her mother have to be so parentally concerned now of all times?

“But Mom, I’m just worried about all of the akumas!” She said with exaggerated earnesty. “This last one was really dangerous! I could have been killed!” She bit her lip and hitched her breath, as if trying to hold back tears. Or hide her lack of them. It was a good thing her mother wasn’t there to see and possibly call her out on it.

Not that she would. She was such a good mother like that. Overly trusting and easily duped. How many teenagers could say they were so lucky?

“I’ve tried to make the best of Paris, but it’s just too much!” Lila cried.

“Oh, my poor dear!” Came her mothers’s voice over the phone. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize how much this move has had an effect on you.”

In that instant, she knew she had good as won. From the safety of her home and with no one in direct sight, Lila allowed herself a smug grin of victory before schooling her expression back to that of the pitiful child she wanted the older woman to see her as. No one may have been there to see it, but as an avid actress of her skill level, it helped her to match her desired tone and inflection with an appropriate expression. She gasped loudly and grabbed the phone to bring it closer to her.

“But Mom, I know how important this job is to you! I don’t want to get in the way...”

“It’s all right, dear. I can contact your aunt and have you stay with her and your cousins until I can finish things here.”

That made her frown.

Lila’s aunt was...not ideal, as her cousins had been among the earlier victims of Lila’s manipulations. She dared say her aunt favored her over any of her children by the time she’d left them. And her cousins were wary of her to say the least after the way she had played them against each other and themselves. But that had been a couple of years ago and she couldn’t be sure they hadn’t caught on and solidified their relationships to better counter her.

Still, if Paris was any indication of how easily people could be fooled and turned against one another, she could probably manage it again.

“Lila?” Her mother called, drawing her attention back. “Are you all right?”

Lila played up the uncertainty. “I don’t know…I wouldn’t want to cause you or Auntie trouble…I can just stay here.” She looked down and to the side and spoke tonelessly, the picture of a dejected daughter. “I’m sure I can just try to put my fear aside and make the best of it…”

“Nonsense!” Her mother exclaimed. “You should never have to make yourself suffer like that!”

There was the sound of papers being shifted, followed by the clicking of a mouse. No doubt her mother was already looking into the procedure on how to transfer.

“I only want you to be safe and well, mi bella.” Her mother said, softly. “And if Paris isn’t the best fit for you, then I’ll discuss the matter with the Embassy and see about ending my assignment early.”

“But Mom, you don’t have to! I can manage, really!” She half-heartedly attempted. “The heroes are even starting to do a…half-way decent job.”

Her mother scoffed. “A job that they have been at for over a year and still can’t manage! It’s clearly not safe here if the city’s own heroes can’t even do their jobs properly.”

Hook.

“But let’s get you taken out of that school first.”

Line.

Lila smirked, unseen.

“Thank you, Mom.”

Sinker.

__________________

Another loss. And a worse one, even.

Witch Hunter had been ruthless and efficient. Perhaps one of his better creations to date. Her powers to know one’s sins and enthrall anyone who heard her announcements soon gained her the entirety of Paris under her sway—and by extension, his. That the powers specifically targeted one girl would have been a disadvantage had the girl in question not had such a…sordid history. That history fortunately gave plenty of opportunities to rally others to the cause, but as evidenced from the fight, it still had limitations.

If only Lila had some ounce of subtlety. Then even Ladybug would have been affected by Witch Hunter, and both Miraculous would have been willingly handed over to him if it meant getting rid of the girl in exchange. The key had been that Ladybug’s opinion of Lila had already been so low that no “reveal” of her misdeeds had been enough to enthrall her.

How curious. He had been aware of Lila’s grudge against Ladybug, but he hadn’t realized that the feelings were mutual. Just what had Lila done to make Ladybug despise her so?

He could hazard a guess, but not any that would lead him anywhere. Lila’s list of crimes was rather extensive. And despite the knowledge he had of her, even he couldn’t boast immunity to the rage.

So what had kept Ladybug from giving up on her?

Was it Ladybug’s Miraculous that protected her? Some sort of inner strength? Or was she already aware of his use of Lila? But even if she was aware, how would that be enough?

He had been able to keep his head, but some of the things he heard had been enough to turn his stomach and make him question his alliance with her. He had been accepting at first of her audacity in how she approached him on both sides of the mask, as she presented herself as useful and willing to aid him. And she had been useful, he would give her that. Her main concern was having others under her sway and she was willing to do anything to maintain it…even remove anyone who would become a threat to her.

He hadn’t lied when he told Lila she was of no more use to him. But that hadn’t been the entire truth. Given what he now realized, she was more of a threat than he had ever considered. He couldn’t put it past her to try to figure out his identity to take his Miraculous for herself.

He took a breath.

Perhaps...he needed to reconsider the girl’s position? On both sides of the mask.

“Sir? What should be done about Lila Rossi?” While the interruption from Nathalie was timely, it didn’t truly disrupt his current thought process.

It was a good question. She had been a willing ally and useful tool in manipulating people. He certainly had praise for her skills.

But...

Perhaps he should have been more cautious and try to question just how she obtained those skills?

As well as her intentions for the future. For himself and especially for his son.

How much did she know? Had she discovered him? Did she suspect? What plans did she have? And now that she had been revealed as a willing ally, what information could others get out of her that could lead back to him?

Lila Rossi was a threat. He could see that now.

But just how much of a risk was she? How much did he risk if she were allowed to remain free? It was clear Ladybug knew of their alliance, and she would be keeping an eye on the girl from here on out. What else could she gain from Lila if he didn’t remove her?

“Sir?”

He paused, considering for a moment.

Then came to a decision.

“Nothing.”

Nathalie started at that in surprise.

“Her contract with the company will be terminated, of course.” He stated, turning to go to his desk and prepare to sign the necessary paperwork. “The company will put out an official statement that we deny any knowledge of her history or dealings, and that we disavow her actions. Anything else is already held under a nondisclosure agreement she signed upon her hiring. Though we should prepare legal action if she attempts to retaliate.”

“But…what should be done about her assistance to you as Hawk Moth?” Nathalie asked.

He straightened.

“Nothing.” He repeated. And he did not like to repeat himself.

“Sir? Is that wise? She has been an accomplice.” She warned him with a frown. “What if she has learned who you are? She could become dangerous.”

He sighed.

“She is a loose thread. But to act on it at this point and try to remove her will only backfire. Ladybug will doubtless be keeping an eye on her from now on. We would risk more if we were caught trying to get rid of her.”

“But since you left her to Witch Hunter’s mercy, she may try to retaliate against you.”

Oh, of that he had little doubt. It was in her nature to turn on those who would not play by her rules.

He had little choice at that point. Witch Hunter and all of Paris were focused solely on seeing the girl punished. He had no way of knowing Ladybug wasn’t already part of the crowd by that time. His mistake was underestimating Ladybug’s will, but even then, would he really have responded differently?

Lila Rossi had lost her use as a tool, and with her antics had used up any good will he had towards her. She lacked the subtlety or even the good sense to simply limit the extent of her lies lest she be found out and face backlash. But much like Miss Bourgeois, she seemed inclined to push the limits of what she could get away with. And unfortunately, with superheroes and villains in Paris, the bounds of what she could normally get away with had increased drastically. Even worse was that she fully seemed to believe she ‘deserved’ the praise and attention simply for claiming things she had never done.

And given how one of her first actions was to buy a trinket to pass off as a false Miraculous and proclaim herself a hero, how long would it have taken for her to decide that she ‘deserved’ a Miraculous as well?

“It was only a matter of time before she set her sights too high. It would be better to cut her off now before she got any ideas about taking a Miraculous, even if it was my own.”

He couldn’t put it past her. Because as much as she despised Ladybug, how could such a girl be satisfied only with her destruction? If she did aid in Ladybug’s defeat, she’d likely just take the Ladybug Miraculous for herself at the first opportunity, and then Gabriel would be back at square one.

No, worse. Because Lila Rossi wouldn’t risk herself for others. It was highly likely she would run away with the Miraculous and then he would lose any chance of obtaining it in this lifetime.

…

Lila Rossi had her uses, but it was best to cut his losses with her now. And Witch Hunter had been the prime time to do so.

It would have been foolish of him to risk his hold over Witch Hunter just to spare Lila at that point. But there was no doubt that she will seek retribution for it. She was certainly spiteful enough, even when it would be to her own detriment.

Still…

“That girl has caused enough problems. We don’t need her interfering with our plans.“

Nathalie clutched her tablet, still worried. “But if she knows…if she tries to reveal you…”

“Lila Rossi is a liar.” He stated as he pulled up news footage of the latest akuma fight. “She is a liar and now people know it. Anything she thinks she knows, we can dismiss as a jilted teenager with delusions of grandeur and an unhealthy interest in my son.”

He paused for a moment, then leaned back in his chair to look to his assistant.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the tale of the ‘Boy Who Cried Wolf’?”

“I am familiar with it, yes.” She replied, albeit confused as to the sudden subject change. “But what does that have to do with this?”

“In the story, the boy is eaten. But his final claim is ultimately proven true, for all the good it does him.” He looked back to the footage, pausing it on Lila’s expression while she was on the pyre.

“But if we do not respond…if Hawk Moth does nothing to silence her, there is no ‘proof’ to her claims. People will suspect it to be another lie. Even moreso, that it’s merely an attempt to get back at me as her ‘former employer’. There will be no ‘wolf’ to validate her claims, even once she’s gone. So yes, we will leave Miss Rossi to her daily life. Let her say what she may think she knows.”

He smirked.

“She could scream it to the world and no one would believe her.”

__________________

It took a while for them to have their conversation and for Marinette to dry her tears. By the time she was able to reach some level of calm, it was almost time to return to school.

One would think that they would be allowed the rest of the day to recover from the akuma attack, but Paris as a whole and the school in particular seemed used to the frequent interruptions by this point. Though perhaps it was more of a testament to Ladybug’s efficiency in dealing with akumas.

…as well as the efficiency of the civilians to set up an entire festival on a spur of the moment. Perhaps she should recommend they try another one at some point? One that doesn’t involve lighting anyone on fire?

When she went downstairs, she found her parents in something of a state of worry. They looked up in surprise when she came down, but were relieved to see her.

“Marinette? When did you get home? I didn’t see you come in.” Tom said.

“A little while ago. We must have just missed each other.” Marinette replied quickly. Then frowned when she notice their expressions. “Is everything okay?”

“There was an akuma attack earlier and one of your schoolmates came here.” Sabine explained. “We had tried to help her and allowed her to change clothes here into something dry, but she took it upon herself to go into your room.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “What?!”

“I don’t know what she was doing in there.” Sabine huffed, angrily. “When I caught her, she tried to claim she had gotten lost. Then your father had gotten a text message from Nadja about a ‘Witch’ and she took off running.”

Lila. There was no one else it could have been. Which meant she had probably done something to sabotage her.

Great. Just great.

They had checked her room and taken pictures of how she left it since they were uncertain of what she may have messed with. As it stood, they wanted to know if anything had been stolen and were questioning whether to call the police.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Her father told her.

“We both are. She was soaked and we had wanted to give her some privacy while she changed.” Sabine shook her head. “I hadn’t thought she would go roaming around the house, much less sneak into your room.”

Tom rested a hand on Sabine’s shoulder. “We should follow up on this though. Maybe Roger will have some advice.”

Sabine nodded to him before turning to her daughter. “Will that be all right, dear?”

Marinette hesitated.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t frustrated. With them. With the situation. All of it.

In their defense, they hadn’t realized it was Lila. And even if they had, they weren’t aware of just how horrible Lila truly was. Despite Marinette’s pleas of innocence during her expulsion, her parents hadn’t fully taken her word for it and even afterwards hadn’t quite believed that Lila was a chronic liar.

But there was a part of her—the part that was still full of indignant anger over the incident and would have formed the core of the Princess Justice akuma Hawk Moth had wanted her to be—that blamed them. If they had just listened to her back then. If they had simply heard her out. If they had believed her about Lila.

They should have known. They should have recognized Lila. They should have remembered what she had done before and at the very least thought to keep an eye on her just in case she tried anything like she had before.

…but Marinette didn’t have it in her to hold a grudge. Especially after what she had seen with Lila and her own grudge.

It wasn’t their fault, it was Lila’s. And while she was irritated with her parents for their negligence, she was willing to forgive them and keep her focus on the one who really deserved her ire.

So for now, she would try to move forward and do what she could.

“I’m not happy about it. But if anything can be done, I’d like to see if we could.”

Her parents agreed and offered reassurances that they would try to address the issue. They also promised her they would be more cautious in the future, which was nice fo them. They offered to let her stay home from school, but that was one thing she had to turn down.

Whatever Lila had done, Marinette probably wouldn’t know until Lila revealed it. It made her dread returning to school. But she couldn’t keep putting it off. If she went now, she could at least try to meet with the others and head off anything Lila could do.

So she made a quick rush to the kitchen to get a small lunch for herself and some cookies for Tikki. With her parents otherwise occupied, that meant that Tikki could come out of hiding and they could talk freely for a bit longer.

“Marinette, maybe you should take a break and stay home for the rest of the school day?” Tikki suggested. And wow, she was certainly taking this ‘be more supportive’ role to heart.

Something in Marinette warmed at that. And in any other circumstances, she would happily have taken Tikki’s advice.

“I’m fine, Tikki. Really.”

Tikki frowned, clearly not buying it. “But you’ve spent half of your day dealing with the crisis caused by Lila and then the akuma that was caused by that crisis, all while trying to keep Lila safe. Even when she was working against you.”

Yeah. There was that.

“You did a lot today. Both as Ladybug and Marinette.” Tikki continued. “No one would fault you if you let yourself recover.”

Marinette hesitated at that.

It was tempting. She was tired. And if she was being honest, she really just wanted to sleep and not deal with anything until tomorrow at least.

But…

She bit her lip.

For all that Tikki’s words made sense and clearly came from a place of concern for her, Marinette couldn’t help but be reminded of only a couple hours ago where Tikki had been trying to convince her to let Lila burn.

She knew that this was different. A matter of self care and health. But even though it’s something she’s wanted and something she appreciates hearing from her kwami, it still felt so strange now that she was experiencing it.

This was something she was going to have to get used to. And she would, she was sure. After all, Tikki was clearly trying for her. And Marinette wanted nothing more than to reciprocate—and also to just drop off into sweet blessed sleep…

However…

“I need to see this through.” She stated, resolutely.

She needed to get back to the school. Both for class and to check on her friends.

After all, even if her Miraculous Cure had fixed the damage caused from the akuma, that didn’t mean her friends were fine. And she still wanted to check in on Rose at the very least.

Tikki looked up at her sadly. Then she floated over and nuzzled Marinette’s cheek, showing her silent support.

It only took a few minutes to gather the rest of her things and make her way to the school.

Even if Tikki assured her that what happened wasn’t her fault, Marinette still felt the need to apologize to Rose for what had happened. Maybe they could still find some way to fix things.

She reached the school in minutes and had almost immediately run into one of her classmates.

Just not the one she had been expecting.

“Adrien?”

He spun to face her, appearing nervous. Even panicked.

“Oh, hey! Marinette! Hi! Hey, um…hey.” He finished, looking embarrassed. “How…are you?”

“I’m fine. Just…have a lot on my mind.” She shrugged. “Just…with Rose and the akuma and everything.”

“Good. That’s good. Well, not good-good about the akuma. But good that you’re okay. Um. Me too.” He looked away, clearly still nervous.

She frowned in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Fine! I’m fine! Just…y’know…got caught up in the akuma attack and was one of her minions for a while. But Ladybug saved me so we’re good.” He said with a not fully sincere smile.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” She hadn’t recalled seeing Adrien among the mob. But given how big it had gotten, she wouldn’t be surprised.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. 

“Marinette…one of the things Witch Hunter said…” He looked her in the eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me Lila had threatened you?”

She straightened in shock. “What?!”

He rubbed the back of his head, looking to the ground. “I’m sorry, it’s just…she said a lot of things Lila had done that I hadn’t known. Like…well…” The book. Her framing Adrien for insulting Nino. Her working with his father. “How she threatened you?”

“Oh.” She said, a bit blankly. Because what else could she say?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He implored her. “I had said we were in this together, but…you didn’t tell me she did that.”

It was true. She hadn’t.

But…why hadn’t she?

“I…didn’t think it was a big deal?”

Why was she asking him instead of telling him?

“Not a big—Marinette, she threatened you!” His eyes widened in realization. “Her expelling you was part of her threat, wasn’t it?”

She flinched, but nodded.

“Just…why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you! I would have done more!”

She waved her hands frantically, trying to console him. “It’s okay, Adrien! Really! You were only—it was just…”

A tap at her leg caught her attention. It came from her purse. A quick glance downward revealed Tikki looking up at her from the safety of the clutch she carried with her. The little kwami remained hidden to Adrien, fortunately, but visible to her. Tikki looked up at her with wide eyes and gave a smile and small nod of encouragement.

Why would she—?

Oh.

Oh, right.

“No.” She admitted. “It’s not okay.”

She had been spending months now convincing herself that things were okay when they weren’t. That she was okay when she wasn’t. And that if she at any point felt she wasn’t okay, it was a failing on her part.

That wasn’t a healthy way to live, as she was only just now starting to understand that.

“I don’t know if you realize this, but I’ve been listening to you on things because I look up to you. I took your advice because I trusted you and believed that you only had everyone’s best interest at heart.”

“But I did!” He insisted automatically before catching himself. “I mean, I thought I was...”

“I trusted you over my own intuition. I listened to you when you kept emphasizing the feelings of others over my own. Chloe was bad enough, but Lila too? Even if they were the ones who were horrible, it felt like I was expected to just...” She struggled for a moment to find the wording to accurately convey her feelings before simply shrugging. “Just deal with it.”

He winced. He hadn’t realized the impact he’d had.

“Because of that,” she continued, “whenever I started to have an issue, I brushed it off because I figured that if there was a problem with someone and something they were doing...well, it was just me, right? So I had to do the right thing. I had to be the bigger person. I had to be the ‘Everyday Ladybug’. Even when I didn’t feel like I could be.”

She took a breath.

“And that wasn’t fair to me.”

He looked up at her. Sad and worried and sympathetic all in one. “I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t matter. I just thought...”

“Chloe’s your friend so it makes sense that you’d want to defend her.” Marinette reasoned. “But Lila, too?” She wrung her hands. “They both did horrible things. They both hurt me...really badly. And it felt like you’ve cared more about their feelings than mine.”

“That’s not it!” He exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. “I just...I know they aren’t then nicest, but they’re struggling. It’s…harder for them than it is for you.“

“If they’re having a hard time, it’s because it’s entirely of their own making. Chloe has been bullying everyone for years, so it’s not our fault that we don’t want to continue to deal with that mistreatment. And Lila has been actively lying to everyone not to be like, but just so she can manipulate them. I get that you care, but your attempts to protect the people you see as ‘needing it’ has resulted in harm to other people who don’t deserve it. You aren’t just enabling them...you’re rewarding them.

“You said to take the highroad, but whatever the highroad is, I don’t think that’s it.”

He gaped at her, some combination of shocked and horrified.

“But I haven’t been encouraging any of this! I tried to help you! I made a deal with her so she would get you back into school.“

Well, that was something she hadn’t known. Although his sudden friendliness with Lila had been suspicious. As had the schools sudden change of heart about her expulsion. But she hadn’t realized the two had been related.

She was grateful to him. Truly. He had only done it for her.

However...

“I never asked you to.”

She wouldn’t have wanted it had she known.

“I never asked you to become Lila’s toy or put yourself in such a bad position for my sake. I only asked you to stand by me and support me.”

She had turned to him that day, wanting him—just someone who knew the truth to speak up in her defense.

To say she was innocent.

To admit that Lila had lied.

To just say she was believed. That she was worth believing in.

“And you didn’t.“

He stared at her. Long and hard. As if this had never occurred to him before. He seemed unable to speak for a full minute.

Until…

“I’m sorry.“

She jumped in surprise.

“I was a hypocrite. I knew she was lying but I convinced myself it wasn’t that bad. And even when I knew people were hurt, it didn’t matter until her lies hurt me.”

He gave a weak laugh.

“Witch Hunter…did you know? The way her power worked was that you only fell under her spell when she announced something Lila did that truly makes you angry.”

He covered his face. In resignation? In guilt?

“I only fell under Witch Hunter’s spell when she revealed Lila had been spying on me for my father. Not when I found out what she did to Rose. Not when I found out what she did to Nino. Not even when I found out what she did to you.” He shook his head. “It only mattered, really truly mattered when it affected me.”

He hung his head in shame.

“I’m a real jerk.”

The denial was automatic on her lips.

“You aren’t a jerk!” She insisted. “You were just—”

He gave a bitter laugh, cutting her off.

“I was so proud of myself that day. When I told you to take the highroad and not out Lila.”

He looked up at her smiling humorlessly.

“Do you know what it’s like to watch you? All the time, I see you doing the right thing. Standing up for people. Doing things to make people happy. Making things better.”

He sighed.

“It felt...it felt good being the one you would listen to and follow.” He admitted. “You were looking up to me and taking my advice. I was so proud of myself! I got to be the one who had solved the problem and made everything better!” He announced with a wave of his hands in an exaggerated fashion before slumping down.

“I’m such an idiot.”

She stared.

He…really admired her that much?

And at that time, he’d just been trying to impress her?

That…hadn’t been the inclination she had gotten at all. It had just felt that he was admonishing her at those times for not being the bigger person. Looking back, now that she was willing to admit it, it had felt like more expectations and double standards.

“I can’t say what you did was okay, because it wasn’t. Lila was able to hurt me. And now she’s hurt Rose and everyone else now because neither of us spoke up when we should have.”

She took a breath.

“But I think I get it. About wanting someone you care about to listen and look up to you. Because that was how I’ve felt about you.”

He jumped and looked up at her in surprise.

Because when it came down to it, hadn’t she been the same? Doing things that had hurt her or others because she had been so focused on Adrien and wanting him to think well of her?

Was it ironic that it was only now, after everything that had happened this day, that she could finally voice even a bit of the feelings she has for him?

They just weren’t the feelings she thought she’d ever be sharing…

But maybe, she thought as she felt Tikki’s comforting presence by her side, these were the ones she needed to?

“It hurts that even when I’m doing the right thing and you say you’re with me, it still feels like you’re not really on my side. Even—especially when I’ve let things get this far at your request.”

“I didn’t mean—I’m sorry—” He started, but he broke off as she raised a hand to stop him.

“I just...” She shook her head. “If we really are friends, I wish you would show it more. And...that you would stand up for me the way you do for them.”

He stared at her in shock. Perhaps a bit of horror as her words really got to him.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured. “I never meant to make you feel that way. I never wanted you to think I don’t care.”

He stood straight and held out his arms to her in clear indication of…something. But she was exhausted—both mentally and physically as it was and her mind was a bit slow to catch just what he was intending to do.

“I know you can handle things, Marinette. You’re strong. And brave. It’s why I know I can trust you when things get tough. But…that you can handle things doesn’t mean you should have to. It doesn’t mean you don’t need support.”

He smiled at her. And oh damn, that smile. It was like a miniature sun and she couldn’t help but stare even as her brain was yelling at her to look away.

The next thing she knew, she was in his arms and…oh…this must be how being held by the sun felt like…

“I want to be someone who you can count on to support you, Marinette.”

Oh. Okay. Nice. This was nice. More of this please. More of just all of this.

The hug must have lasted an eternity. An hour at least? Because it felt like forever until she was drawn out of the soothing feeling by a rumbling and a series of sounds that seemed to mean something…

Could she just…stay like this? For a day or two? Maybe the rest of her life? Tikki tried, bless her, but kwami arms just weren’t the same as human arms and the feeling of being wrapped up in sunshine was bliss.

Oh wait, he was talking more. She should probably be listening right now.

“—contract. Maybe I could talk to them? See what else they know of that could help?”

“Hmm?”

She was dazed and completely out of it, something Adrien seemed to pick up on as he released his hold (noo, don’t do that!) and backed away (noooooo) to arm’s length to look her over.

“Marinette? Are you okay?”

She blinked a few times as her mind reoriented to where she was.

And more specifically to who she was with.

“Oh! Right! Fine! You’re fine—I mean, I’M fine. Just…” She sighed, rubbing at one eye with the palm of her hand. “Just a…long day.”

Maybe she should have stayed home after all if just one hug could do that…

Adrien seemed to notice this and frowned in concern. He took in her state and apparently there was something about her appearance she had missed earlier because he seemed to get the same idea.

“Marinette, are you okay? If you’re tired, maybe you should go home and rest?”

She shook her head insistently. “No. I can’t.”

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to push yourself. Remember? I’m going to support you. And I know everyone else would understand.”

She didn’t think they wouldn’t. But as much as she just wanted to sleep until tomorrow and skip the rest of this day, she wasn’t sure she would be able to relax at home if she didn’t know what was happening with her friends.

“If nothing else, I want to check up on Rose.” Seeing that he looked ready to argue, she rushed on. “I need this. Please.”

He hesitated. And she was worried he would push the issue, because she was sure that she would give in if he did. She just did not have the energy to argue at this point. Fortunately though, he seemed to understand as he took her arm in his.

“Okay. But I’ll be right here with you.”

Any other day, she would be a stammering mess if Adrien were to take her arm and walk with her like this.

Today, she was simply grateful.

__________________

It didn’t take them too long to find Rose. She was in the hallway talking with Alya. The two seemed deep in conversation that they didn’t notice the duo approach.

“Rose!” Marinette exclaimed, loosening her arm from Adrien’s hold and rushing to her friend. “Are you okay?”

The blonde looked up at her, tearful.

“I’m okay.” She murmured as she wiped at her eyes. 

“But are you?” Alya broke in, asking Marinette. “Girl, I saw the footage!”

Marinette blinked.

“Footage?” She asked, and then started to back away at the expression on Alya’s face.

Alya could be headstrong, but she never really got angry. Upset, certainly. Annoyed, often. But even in the heights of Lila’s worst attempts to make Marinette look bad, Alya had never truly gotten angry—just righteous and in Marinette’s opinion that was admittedly a bit resentful at the time, acting a bit superior. Perhaps the only time she had ever seen her friend look truly angry was during Hero’s Day, and even then it took a hit from Dark Cupid and Hawk Moth’s control to get her there.

So seeing Alya looking ready to claw someone’s eyes out was…unsettling, to say the least.

Even Adrien apparently seemed to think so, as he moved up to Marinette and almost seemed to position himself slightly between them. “Alya? What happened?”

Despite Adrien’s attempt to act as a barrier, Marinette tried to reach out, concerned for her friend’s state. The way she was looking, Marinette half wondered if she wasn’t still affected by Witch Hunter. A quick glance to a worried Rose disproved that easily enough, but perhaps it was a remnant of her power the Cure missed? “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean am I okay? Are YOU okay?!” Alya shouted, pointing at Marinette. “Girl, I saw what what happened with you and Lila!”

Marinette jumped. Her mind immediately raced to her call out of Lila just a little over an hour ago. Did someone record her going off? Was there something that had revealed her as Ladybug? Had she messed up?!

“What?! No wait—it’s not what you—I didn’t mean—!”

Alya was pulling up her phone, and by the time she turned it so that Marinette and Adrien could see, the video already started playing. The video was recorded from someone within the akuma’s mob—not yet grown to the level of the city yet.

Marinette briefly recognized that the location in the video seemed familiar but hadn’t quite registered how when a sudden commotion caught the attention of the group. The person recording turned the camera sharply, which blurred and then focused on a fallen figure a short distance away.

“—conspirator helping the Witch! Someone grab her!”

…oh. That figure was her.

And the moment when Lila had betrayed her and tried to sacrifice her to the mob.

“Hey! That’s Marinette!” Came Alya’s voice from the phone, shortly followed by the exclamations from the crowd that Marinette already knew were coming because she had lived this and yet despite seeing it on record, she still struggled to believe it actually happened.

…the crowd leaving her alone part. Not the Lila betraying her part. THAT, she could believe no question.

“I can’t believe she would do that!” Alya exclaimed. The real Alya. The present one. Who was standing in front of her and not the one in the phone—who was almost disturbingly cheerful in how she was calling for Lila’s blood.

…to be honest, Marinette wasn’t sure whether that mob Alya or the furious one in front of her scared her more. Present Alya, for her part, was clearly NOT happy about the events.

Neither was Adrien, apparently, as he grabbed the phone from Alya and looked to be furious himself.

“Wait—Lila did WHAT?!” He demanded. And…wow, was this what Adrien had been like as part of the mob? She hadn’t known he could get that angry.

“She tried to throw Marinette to the mob!” Alya bit out.

“I can’t believe it!”

“How could she—?!”

“When Marinette had just been trying to help her!”

“That lousy little b—”

“WHY did she even think that was necessary?!”

“Is it too late to torch her and say the akuma did it?”

Marinette looked between the two, feeling that she should be saying something but honestly, just getting all the more overwhelmed.

A hand on her arm broke her attention away from the two and back to poor Rose, who looked almost to the point of tears again.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Oh Rose, you deserved better than this.

“No! You actually let me go.” She insisted, much to the blonde’s visible relief. “You were focused only on Lila. And aside from getting people to help you hunt her down, you didn’t do anything to anyone else.”

If anything, the people of Paris seemed pretty happy for the excuse.

…maybe she really needed to talk to the Mayor about having a fun festival to just let everyone blow off steam?

She could focus on that later though. She shook her head and returned her attention to Rose. The girl still looked nervous, but less worried at least. That was good.

Rose sniffled. “I didn’t know. I’ve just been scared to see what my akuma did.”

“No one was hurt in the end.” Marinette assured her. “Ladybug came and stopped it. Nobody was hurt.”

Because Rose never really wanted to hurt anyone, she was sure. Even if it was Lila.

At most, maybe Lila got a little smokey smell to her. And a lot wet. But she survived. And without burns.

Rose seemed to slump in relief. “I’m so glad.”

And this…this right here was why it was worth it. Because the difference in Rose’s posture and expression within a few seconds meant a situation she could feel move on from versus a guilt she would be carrying with her all her life.

“I can't believe I almost did that! What did I become!?" Rose cried.

“You were akumatized. You were rightfully enraged by someone you thought was a friend taking advantage of you. Honestly, the only reason I didn't join in is because nothing about her shocks me anymore.”

Despite the attempt at reassurance, the smaller girl drew in on herself more. She rubbed at her eyes to wipe away tears and merely nodded at Marinette’s words. Hearing, but not fully agreeing. Or maybe it was the reminder that Marinette had known and tried to reveal Lila sooner to no avail.

Of all people, Rose didn’t deserve this. None of the classmates did, but Rose had been particularly trusting and was affected the worst because of this.

She couldn’t help it. She hugged Rose. If Adrien’s hug earlier had been so nice for her, maybe this could help the smaller girl in turn.

Rose certainly seemed to appreciate it as she hugged back…quite strongly, actually. Marinette had known Rose had some upper body strength given how she had been able to carry Chloe during the Zombizu attack but wow. Rose was smaller than Adrien, but her hug was just as warm but more tight.

Marinette lost herself a bit in the comfort she was giving and receiving. She barely even noticed that Adrien and Alya were still talking. She was peripherally aware that it was happening, but once again had lost track of what they were actually saying.

She had checked on Rose and made sure she was doing…well even if not fully okay. Maybe this was a sign she should go home?

“LIAR!”

It seemed it wasn’t to be, however, as a sudden commotion caught her notice, dragging her attention to a gathering down the hall.

And suddenly, Marinette was wide awake.

__________________

“—trusted me. Ladybug knew I would never do such a thing! That’s how she was able to ward off Witch Hunter.”

Lila giggled.

“You could say that the ‘power of friendship’ saved the day!”

Of course she was lying through her teeth once again. Not that she needed to at this point, really. Her mother was firmly in her corner and Lila would be getting to leave Paris soon enough. But there was a part of her that wanted to see if she couldn’t convince them one more time.

While she may not have a chance of getting revenge on Hawk Moth, she at least wanted some victory to take with her when she left. After all, Lila was hardly one to simply let things go and let this end without a last hurrah. No, if anything, when the chips were down, she was used to going all in. And if she lost? Well, not like it mattered if she wasn’t there to pay afterwards.

This time would be no different.

Truthfully, the only reason she was at the school at all was so her mother could file the paperwork to transfer her out. She hadn’t really wanted to go, but she had needed to be there to run interference in case anyone attempted to approach her. It had been part of the reason she had insisted on going despite her “harrowing” experience. Her mother had insisted on starting the process to remove Lila from the school immediately. And while she was sure no one would recognize the woman if she arrived alone, Lila knew she had to be there to “lead” the discussion between her mother and the Principal, as well as protect her mother from hearing any untoward rumors that could taint her view of her loving and trusted daughter.

Lila hadn’t intended to be caught by her soon to be former classmates. The original plan had been to simply disappear from their lives and leave them with their guilt and uncertainty. It was part of the reason she had agreed to come with her mother to the school so soon, as she had expected that everyone should be in class by the time they arrived. But her mother had gotten out earlier than expected, and people were still milling about the school.

She had kept her head down and hoped that no one would notice her. But luck was not in her favor it seemed, as Bustier had been late for some unknown reason, so her students had chosen to hang out in the hallways instead of waiting in the classroom or simply calling it a day and going home early.

A minor hiccup. She was sure that they would be forced to leave once class started. She separated from her mother with the pretense of saying goodbye to all of her friends, in the actual intention of simply buying time until the teacher returned and called them away. Her mother and Damocles had even seemed eager for her to, reassuring her that they did not need her and ushering her out of the room, which was all the more in her favor she supposed.

And really, how could she resist one more opportunity to see them dance for her?

After this, she would be home free. Not like they could do anything to her across international borders even if they did try.

There was no risk to her at this point. So It was worth pushing to see just how far she could milk this.

And these were the best saps a girl could ask for.

The present classmates listened to her tale of woe. Though  only a fraction of the crowd she would normally draw and not quite as eager as they used to, they were still listening to her patiently at least instead of simply blowing her off or calling her out. Which meant there was still a chance they would believe her.

A few of them actually seemed to be buying her story. And it had been one of her better tales, in her personal opinion. There were one or two that rolled their eyes—which, rude. A couple who seemed disinterested. But most of the rest seemed uncertain.

It was a shame Rose wasn’t there. Lila was sure that she would especially appreciate the performance. Though part of her was relieved, since she figured that the emotional girl would probably start crying if she had been.

Though there was also no Marinette either, which meant no one to counter her story as she had no doubt the little Miss Perfect would.

“You’re really saying that Marinette handed you off to the violent mob?”

That also meant she wasn’t there to defend herself either.

Lila hunched her shoulders and brought up a hand to her face in a nervous expression. “It’s not her fault. I’m sure it was because of the akuma. Even she wouldn’t turn on me like that just because she doesn’t like me…”

Cry her a river? She’d be seeing Marinette cry a river once she was done here. If she accomplished nothing else before she left, she would at least make sure Marinette Dupain-Cheng regretted talking to her like that.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t have done it if she was herself.” Mylene reached forward to comfort her but stopped a foot away and immediately decided to back off and keep her hands to herself. She coughed into her hand and looked away.

Lila frowned, scratching her head. What was that about?

She shook it off and kept to her plan. Play up the innocent act and leave them guessing until it was time to go. Whatever happened after that was their problem.

“I was so scared.” Lila whimpered. “Her expression at that time was…terrifying.”

Some more of the classmates looked sympathetic. Yet none of them approached her. Now that Lila noticed, there was a distinct space between her and the rest of the class. No one would come within five feet of her.

She hugged herself, looking the picture of wounded and helpless. “I was just lucky I was able to get away after she outted my hiding place to the mob.”

“LIAR!”

Everyone jumped to see a fuming Alya approach. A somewhat less visibly angry but still no doubt displeased Adrien was right behind her.

Both of them were focused completely on Lila.

Lila gasped, as if hurt. “What do you—”

“Can it.” Alya cut her off immediately, not even giving her a chance to spin some new lie. “You can’t be trusted, Lila. Or did you think we would forget about earlier?”

“That was a misunderstanding.” Lila explained, raising her hands in a peaceful gesture. “You weren’t here, but I had already told everyone what happened and why.”

“Oh really?” Alya asked, clearly disbelieving.

“She said that she was hit by an akuma before the attack today and only snapped out of it after Rose was akumatized.” Alix stated with a droll tone and an expression that said she didn’t believe it either.

Alya gave Lila a flat stare. “Do you actually expect us to believe that?” 

“It’s the truth.” Lila rested a hand over her heart akin to an oath before curling her fingers and drawing in on herself as if pained. “I was horrified when I woke up and realized what had happened.”

“Then where is the money?” Alya demanded. 

Lila resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Usually Alya would take her at her word, which was useful when others in turn trusted her for her reporting skills. It worked to her advantage when Alya believed her, but having those skills turned on her was a real pain.

“Hawk Moth must have taken it.” She suggested. It couldn’t be proven, of course, but it couldn’t be disproven either. And this group was particularly gullible and willing to believe the best in anyone regardless of common sense.

Except this time, apparently.

“If Hawk Moth needed money, we would be seeing akumas robbing banks, not stealing donations from teenagers for a fake charity.” Kim pointed out.

“He was probably being discreet.” Lila said hastily.

“Stealing money from a charity isn’t discreet!” Alya shouted, drawing even more attention much to Lila’s annoyance.

“Everyone already knows you lied and pocketed the money. The very least you could do is admit it.“ Adrien said, looking rather cross.

Of all the times for the doormat to actually try to stand up on his own, did it have to be now?

Lila gasped, looking hurt. Internally, she was annoyed more than anything. He was supposed to be passive. He’d never stood out like this before!

“But Adrien, you said we were friends, remember?”

It was a reminder of their “deal”. As well as a thinly veiled threat of what she would have free reign to do if that deal was broken. Not just to Marinette, but to him as well. After all, Adrien knew about Lila’s lies all along and did nothing. If he was going to out her here, she would be dragging him down with her.

“I said we were friends as long as you didn’t hurt anyone I care about!” Adrien corrected her. “And you have! You hurt Kagami. You hurt Marinette. And now you’ve hurt Rose!”

“Wait—dude! You knew?” Nino asked, looking hurt.

“I knew she was a liar.” Adrien admitted to everyone. He looked down in shame. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought…” He paused before shrugging. “Well, I thought a lot of things that were wrong.”

“Dude.” Kim muttered.

Ivan gave Adrien a stern glare. “You owe Rose. Big time.”

“Marinette, too.” Alya added, gesturing to the pig-tailed girl who had approached the group alongside Rose.

“I know.” Adrien nodded and turned to the two, even going so far as to bow lowly from the waist. “And I’ll accept any punishment if it means you will all forgive me for not speaking up sooner.”

He knew better now. The absence of overt conflict doesn’t mean that the problem is solved. He had thought he was fixing problems, but really, he was only dealing with symptoms.

Rose looked uncertain. She stared at Adrien, biting her lip. She was snapped out of her thoughts by a touch to her shoulder. Looking up in surprise, she saw Marinette and remembered that the other girl had still been beside her. Even now, she was acting as a support.

Marinette patted her on the shoulder and smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s up to you.”

Rose looked back to Adrien.

He hadn’t been the one who did it. But he knew…if not that Lila was lying, then at least that she was a liar. He knew and he didn’t say anything. Which…well, wasn’t AS bad as Lila actually lying, but still bad.

She frowned.

“I want your endorsement on the charity.”

“Done.”

“And a cake for the class as an apology.”

“Just tell me what flavor.”

“And for you to take Marinette on a date to a fancy restaurant.”

“I’ll check my sched—wait, what?” He asked, standing up straight.

Marinette covered Rose’s mouth before she could repeat herself.

“Just the first two will be fine.” She said, flushing with embarrassment. Because really Rose?

Rose, for her part, gave her an annoyed look but didn’t fight her. Nor did she attempt to keep up the demand even after Marinette released her.

“Are you sure?” He asked, holding up a hand to her as if in offering. “After everything, a nice meal would be the least I could do.”

Then he smiled.

And suddenly, Marinette’s initial willpower just took a hit.

“It’ll be my treat.” He promised.

Marinette felt herself heat up at that. He hadn’t seemed to notice the ‘date’ part of Rose’s statement, but seemed rather stuck on the idea of getting a dinner together and Marinette knew she shouldn’t, but she didn’t want to say no either…

The classmates were all grinning or sending each other knowing looks. Alya was getting her phone out to record for blackmail future wedding material. Rose was beaming excitedly. They were all glad that some good was coming out of this.

Except, of course, for Lila.

Any cheerful atmosphere or chatter immediately died at the way Lila cleared her throat. Somehow, she just seemed to draw all attention to herself. The others looked to her in question. But Marinette, who knew Lila well enough to know she was plotting something, only felt dread.

“But is that really appropriate?” Lila asked, innocently. She rubbed at her arm. “After all, you wouldn’t want Adrien to be leading on Marinette the way he did me.”

The others stared. “What?”

Marinette paled.

Oh. Oh, this was going down a bad road, she could feel it.

Adrien glared. “I never led you on, Lila.”

Lila chuckled cheerfully. “Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t intentional, of course. But taking a girl out to a fancy dinner would…well…certainly imply things. Especially if the girl in question already is enamored with you.”

He blinked.

“What?”

“She holds feelings for you.”

A moment’s pause.

“You mean…as a friend?” He asked.

…seriously? Was he not getting it?

“She is clearly crushing on you.” Lila stated flatly.

Adrien stared.

“…What?”

Lila sighed in irritation. “Why else do you think she always freaks out around you? The stammering? The nervous giggling? The weird statements that don’t fit the context?”

Marinette pulled at her pigtails in frustration. Because of course. Of-freaking-course Lila would sink this low!

Adrien blinked, then rubbed his chin. “I thought it was because of the way I kept surprising her? Like approaching her from behind. Or appearing behind her locker right as she closes it.”

Nino squinted at his friend. “Which I’ve been meaning to ask, how do you even do that?”

“Not the point.” Lila cut in before turning back to Adrien. “Seriously, Adrien, didn’t you wonder why she had all those posters of you in her room?”

“Because she’s a fan. She even told me as much.” He stated.

Lila stared as Adrien beamed at his Very Good Friend. “And it’s kind of nice knowing that a fashion designer like Marinette likes what I do. And looks up to my father.” He snapped his fingers in realization. “Hey! Maybe I could see if you can’t meet my dad sometime!”

Marinette smiled uncertainly and just…sort of nodded. “That sounds nice.”

Because really, what else could she do at this point?

Lila gaped in growing outrage.

Was…was he just going to keep ignoring her? To focus on…THAT?

“What? No! Adrien, she is crushing on you! Like…obsessively!” Lila exclaimed.

Adrien seemed to be getting annoyed with Lila’s continued interruptions, given the look he threw her. “Lila, do you really have to keep making things up?”

“I’m not making this up!”

“Yeah,” Alix said sarcastically. “Just like the charity.”

“And Marinette leaving you to the akuma.” Alya added, still clearly angry about that.

“And everything else you’ve ever said.”

Lila growled. “But this is true! And I have proof!”

With a smirk, Lila held out her phone, showing the picture she had taken earlier of the schedule inside Marinette’s room.

“See? Marinette has your schedule on her calendar!” She exclaimed.

Adrien frowned at her, disapprovingly. “Are you seriously making things up now just to make Marinette look bad?”

Marinette winced. 

He was really keeping his word and trying to support her. She knew in this moment that if she denied it, Adrien would believe her. And it may save face and protect her from any further humiliation.

As well as sticking it to Lila, which was always nice.

…But Marinette hated liars. And if there was one thing that this entire mess taught her, it was that great harm could come from lies. She didn’t want to give Lila any additional ammunition to use against her, but she knew it would only be worse if it got out later.

And she didn’t want to misuse Adrien’s trust in that way.

“Actually, I do have your schedule.” She admitted.

Adrien stopped in the middle of the lecture he was about to give Lila. He turned to her in surprise.

“What?”

“It’s just…you would mention certain activities or plans. Fencing. Tutoring. Lessons. And I would hear and add them to my calendar so I would be aware when it came to planning things.”

Silence.

Lila smirked in victory. So the goody-two shoes had a fault and was actually admitting to it for the entire class to see. Even Adrien’s protective best friend must be up in arms as he took Lila’s phone with the picture of the schedule to look it over.

Adrien, for his part, blinked as he registered the information.

“So you’ve kept track of all the events and scheduling I’ve told you about to add to your calendar?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

A longer pause. Marinette mentally kicked herself. Why hadn’t she just stayed home and avoided this mess?

Then he smiled. “That was nice of you.”

“What?” Marinette asked, stunned.

“What.” Lila less asked than stated. Shrieking even in her disbelief.

“Well, friends keep friends on their schedules.” Adrien said, nodding resolutely.

Lila stared, her eye twitching slightly.

But he paid her no mind, keeping his gaze on his very good friend.

"Can I see it?" He asked her.

Marinette blinked. "What?"

He was actually looking eager now. “That way I can fill in any gaps so we can choose better times to hang out!”

She flushed. This was not the direction she had expected this to go. And from Lila’s disgusted expression, neither had she.

Far be it from her to argue. Especially against Adrien’s hopeful puppy eyes.

"Okay."

“Great! I’ll come by your house later! Maybe we can play Mecha Strike while we’re at it.” He said with a smile that—gah, too bright! It would probably blind her if it didn’t make her heart explode.

Marinette blushed.

“Okay?” She agreed because really, what else could she do at this point?

"WHAT?!" Lila raged, her skin starting to turn red. "Why would you want to help her keep your schedule?! Isn't that creepy?!"

He turned to Lila at that with a frown. “But...she's my friend. I'm on her Personal Calendar with all the people she considers friends!" And she’d done this even before their talk today, so that meant she really did like him, right?

Lila rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Adrien! Who actually does that?"

Adrien shrugged. "Nino does."

A pause. Slowly, all eyes turned to Nino.

The cap-wearing teen realized the sudden attention he'd got and jumped back, waving his hands.

"Well, how else were we supposed to have hangouts with that schedule of his?" He defended before turning his attention to Marinette. “You’re missing his Chinese lessons by the way.”

Marinette turned to him in surprise. “What?”

“Yeah, also he has a photoshoot this weekend and in the middle of next week. And I see my schedule on there, too, but you don’t have my gig Friday.”

“Wait—you’re on her schedule, too?” Ivan asked, surprised.

“All of her friends are.” Nino confirmed.

Kim raised his hand. “Am I on there?”

“All of her friends are.” Nino repeated, and looked down at the picture of the calendar. “She has your swim meet for next Tuesday. And a plan to bring some of those tarts you like.”

“Sweet!” Kim exclaimed, giving a fist pump.

Nino nodded to Marinette before handing the phone back to Lila. “Plus Alya and I are having a date Sunday, not Saturday, so we won't need you to babysit. Might want to add that.” 

Marinette blinked as she just…tried to register everything.

“Oh. Okay.”

Apparently, that was becoming her default word as she was still trying to process how any of this was happening.

Alya stared at her boyfriend.

“So wait, you have Adrien’s schedule, too?”

“Of course, I do! Hangouts are difficult enough, but we also need to know what times we can video chat.” Nino shrugged. “How else do you think I knew when his dad was leaving? And how to get past his bodyguard?”

Lila gaped. She couldn’t believe this!

Even the other classmates seemed unbothered. Did they really have no concept of boundaries?

…of course they didn’t. They were teenagers.

The fact that Lila herself had commonly infringed on Adrien’s boundaries in a physical way on a daily basis and most recently violated Marinette’s boundaries specifically to find this information to use against her in the first place seemed entirely lost on her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? How are you okay with this? Are you seriously that stupid?” Lila demanded.

Adrien frowned at Lila, stepping in front of his friends. “Marinette and everyone else here are my friends. Of course, I care about them and would want them to know when I’m available—”

“You can’t possibly be that blind! MARINETTE. HAS. A. CRUSH. ON. YOU. She is so hopelessly in love with you that it’s pathetic!”

“Don’t talk about her like—”

“She has birthday and holiday gifts for you for YEARS!” Lila shouted. “HOW IS THAT NOT WEIRD?!”

The classmates blinked or jumped in surprise before all eyes turned to Marinette.

Why? Why was she Lila’s go-to target?

“I was just…I mean…” She stammered, looking down in shame and embarrassment.

The classmates seemed to be waiting for an answer. It seemed they were at least trying to give her the benefit of the doubt since it was LILA making the accusation, after all, and it was clear by this point that she was simply throwing out anything to make her look bad.

Hesitant, she looked up to see Adrien’s reaction.

And Adrien…oh god, he actually had tears in his eyes!

“Really? Is it true?”

Marinette jumped to try and explain.

“I—um—well—you see—”

His eyes widened. “I can’t believe it...”

“No wait! It’s not—”

Okay, yeah, she was a mess and had nothing.

“You felt so bad about missing my birthday that you’ve been making gifts for me ahead of time so you won’t miss it again!” He exclaimed, looking excited.

Which was okay, apparently, because Adrien had apparently drawn his own conclusions. As evidenced when he pulled her into a hug.

“You didn’t have to do all that, Marinette.” He said, giving her a squeeze. “I don’t hold it against you that you forgot my birthday. You didn’t know.”

A part of Marinette was screaming. Because oh, the irony. If only he knew…

Alya…out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Alya also looked like she desperately wanted to say something. Probably the truth about his scarf. Which now was a bad time to reveal.

“You have no reason to feel guilty for not getting me anything.” He told her, releasing her with a smile and patting her shoulders. “But I appreciate that you felt so strongly about it that you would try to get such a head start to make up for it. It means a lot that you care so much about me.”

Marinette…yeah, Marinette.exe has shut down.

“But that’s not...” Mylene started, only to pause for several seconds before frowning with a small wince. “Actually yeah, that does sound exactly like something Marinette would do.”

“Remember how she got Alya an interview with Ladybug after she accidentally deleted that video?” Kim chimed in.

Nino slapped his forehead. “Oh yeah! Alya went on and on about that for weeks!”

Alya—even Alya, her best friend, who knew full well about her crush and the gifts actually looked uncertain at the news. She bit her lip, looking back and forth between Adrien and Marinette in confusion and concern.

Because she remembered that Adrien’s father had somehow wound up with credit for Marinette’s gift to Adrien. She also remembered how Chloe had broken into Marinette’s locker and vandalized her gift to Bustier. Then there was the time Marinette made Adrien that hat but didn’t take credit for that either.

Marinette…just seemed to have bad luck when it came to giving people things, apparently.

So was it really any wonder that the girl would become that anxious over gift-giving? Or that Marinette, being Marinette, had gone so far as to prepare a multitude of gifts as backups in case something like her gift being stolen, lost, or vandalized happened again?

Alya...honestly didn’t know anymore. Maybe that was something she should try to help with more in the future.

Adrien for his part was simply basking in the glow of happiness that came with knowing how much his good friend Marinette cared about him. Nobody had the heart to argue with him. Nor did any of them even have an argument to make.

“Are you kidding? No one keeps that many gifts for one person in their closet! Can you possibly be that stupid?”

Except Lila, but after everything that had happened, no one was really feeling inclined to humor her.

“Since you’re bringing that up though, here’s a better question.” Alix cut in, giving Lila a glare. “How do you even know any of this?”

Lila drew back in surprise as she suddenly found herself the subject of glares from the rest of her classmates.

“I somehow doubt Marinette invited you into her room.” Alix continued.

“Her parents did!” Lila quickly explained, absently scratching at her wrist. “They invited me inside since the mob was after me.”

Okay, yeah no. Marinette’s brain had rebooted at that. There was no way she was going to let Lila implicate her parents.

“I already talked to my parents about what happened after I saw you wearing my clothes. They invited you into the bakery.” Marinette corrected angrily. “They did not invite you into my room.”

“It was an accident.” Lila claimed. “I had gotten lost, but once I realized where I was and what I was seeing, I just had to warn everyone—”

“‘What you were seeing’,” Marinette cut her off coldly, “should not have been seen unless you had been looking for them. I kept those gifts in my closet. The schedule was put away. The pictures were not visible from my trap door—which you should have realized right away would NOT lead you to any exit.”

Lila scratched at her neck. “Well, I hardly know anything about you since you keep me at arm’s length. Can you blame me for being a little curious?”

“YES.” Came the resounding echo from…well…nearly everyone. It was clear that nobody was buying anything Lila was trying to sell.

“You don’t try to ‘learn about someone’ by breaking into their room, recording what you find there, and sharing it with people!” Mylene ranted.

“It sounds like you’re trying to make Marinette look bad to distract us from your own actions.” Ivan said with a glare. “Because none this changes what you did.”

“You lied to us about the charity and EVERYTHING else you’ve ever said!” Alya exclaimed.

“Did you make up all those illnesses, too?” Kim asked, disappointed and disapproval evident in his voice.

“I bet you were the one who nearly caused Marinette to get expelled.” Alix hissed, leading more growls and angry muttering from the audience.

“No, I haven’t! It was just a misunderstanding!” Lila insisted.

“Was it?” Came a voice.

Everyone immediately silenced and all eyes turned to one person.

Rose stood tall. Or at least as tall as she could in such a situation. In truth, she was shaking. Her lip was trembling like she was trying not to cry. And she stared straight at Lila, almost as if she was gazing into her soul.

If it was anyone else, Lila might have been concerned.

But it was Rose. Poor simple Rose who always believed in everyone and would listen to anything she said without question.

It’d be easy enough to get back in her good graces.

And all it would take…

Lila sniffled, lowering her head. “I’m sorry.”

Everyone stared.

Marinette wanted to bang her head against something.

Lila rubbed at her eyes to give the illusion of tears. She even managed a couple of hiccups. “You were just all…all so amazing and I was scared about fitting in. I did embellish some things but I…I just wanted you all to like me.” She covered her face, effectively hiding her eyes.

“Things just spiraled out of control and before I knew it, I was trapped! I couldn’t be honest and I was so scared of what you all would think of me!” She sobbed out. 

Disregarding, of course, the fact that she had just tried to throw Marinette under the bus—and not for the first time.

Lila looked up at the group, eyes watery though no actual tears have been shed. “I never meant to hurt anyone.” She whimpered. “I just admired you all so much! I’m so sorry!”

They hesitated. Of course they did. They were easily played by emotional appeals. All she’d ever had to do was fake pain or sadness and they would fall over themselves in response before any true logic or reason could set in.

And of course, Rose of all people stepped forward.

The small blonde rested a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes, with what had to be some form of reassurance on her lips.

Leave it to Rose to forgive any transgressions and be willing to start anew. She was always the first to offer reassurances. The first to believe in someone. The first to support a good cause. If anyone would understand and show sympathy, it would be her.

“I don’t believe you.”

That…was not it.

Rose stepped back from Lila, her nose scrunched in disgust. She backed away a good couple of feet. She even wiped her hands on her dress—or attempted to, until Mylene handed her some hand wipes. As if touching Lila had been filthy to her.

“Is even touching me that bad?” Lila asked, acting pitiful.

A long pause. Several of the classmates glanced between each other. They all seemed to want to say something, but couldn’t seem to bring themselves to.

“You stink.”

Except for Juleka, who was glaring at Lila.

Lila gaped.

“What?”

Did…she mean that literally or was she just being juvenile?

Kim actually pinched his nose. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to say anything, but you kind of reek.”

Lila clenched her fists, her anger growing and her skin starting to turn red. “How dare you?!”

"Like...you stink...and you stink. Figuratively and physically." Kim said, sounding nasally with his nose plugged.

“Kind of smells wet and musty.” Nino muttered.

“I was thinking it smelled more like a dumpster.” Mylene noted.

“It’s probably her soul.” Alix muttered, shooting Lila a dark glare.

Marinette gasped and spun on Lila. “Wait! Lila, didn’t you jump in the Seine earlier?”

Lila flushed, embarrassed at the reminder and the realization that her shower earlier had only done the bare minimum for her hair. “It wasn’t by choice!”

The other teens gave Lila disgusted looks.

“You…do know the Seine isn’t the cleanest, right?” Ivan asked.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Lila exclaimed. “It was that damn Ladybug who splashed me with water!”

Several of the classmates bristled at that and the insult to their city’s hero.

“She was putting the pyre out.” Alya countered, looking up the video on her phone. “Otherwise you would have been burned. And then you would have died. And none of this would even be up for discussion right now.”

“Really, you could show a little more appreciation for Ladybug rescuing you.” Adrien said, narrowing his eyes at Lila. “Even if she wasn’t your best friend.”

He knew she wasn’t. He had been there when Ladybug herself had confronted Lila on her lies, so of course he knew that they weren’t friends. Not that anyone else did. But the reminder of that particular lie and Ladybug’s recent threat brought out a level of fear within her that she hadn’t experienced before.

She could almost swear that she felt Ladybug’s gaze on her.

Lila silently fumed momentarily but forced herself to calm and steady her nerves.

Remember, she was still the one in control here. Not the school. Not these classmates. And certainly not Ladybug!

She closed her eyes and let out a breath.

Oh well. She gave it a try and it didn’t work. An annoyance, but ultimately, no real loss. She was still leaving. And they had nothing they could pin on her.

Rose was the one who collected the money. The school and teachers were the ones who hadn’t verified her paperwork. Gabriel had been the one to hire her to spy on his own son. Hawk Moth had been the one to use her. And Ladybug had been the one who didn’t protect her.

Really, wasn’t it their own fault?

“If that’s how you all feel, then I’ll just leave.” Lila said, looking away in a manner she was sure looked dejected. Such a look would normally lead people to feel some pity for her and some remorse for anything they had done.

Here though, it just made her look petulant.

None of the classmates were impressed. Several looked ready to argue. Maybe to even try to brave the stench around her and force her to stay and admit to her acts.

Except…

“The one thing I don’t understand though is why did you keep doing it? Why all the lies?” Rose asked.

“Yeah,” Alya agreed. “Looking back, your lies were all over the place and didn’t amount to much. Not until the fake charity scam, anyway, and you were bound to get caught. What was even the point of it all?”

What was the point? Was she serious? It was everything.

Lila rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Like any of you would have really cared about me if you hadn’t thought I had something you could use.”

They all just stared at her incredulously.

“Um…but we would have.”

Lila paused, blinking in confusion.

“What?”

Rose brought her hands up. “We would have liked you regardless, Lila! You didn’t have to lie!”

“And even if you do lie,” Mylene continued, “we still could have forgiven it and liked you anyway.”

“We may not have been happy about being lied to, but we could have understood. Maybe even helped.” Ivan stated, rubbing his head.

Marinette stepped forward. “I told you before Lila. We could be friends when you stopped lying.”

Lila stared at her. Was she serious?

That was…

Lila gaped at them all in disbelief. None of them argued. Many even nodded their heads in agreement.

She couldn’t believe it…

That was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard!

Who actually forgives people for things like that? Even little acts that seemed weird were often enough to turn people off. Even good qualities like leadership, prioritizing, and professionalism could be twisted and used against the person. This was supposed to be a world where any flaw should be enough to ruin someone and warrant raking them over the coals!

And these idiots were just…fine with it?

Honestly, it was no wonder she was able to get away with so much! These idiots were practically begging to be manipulated!

Lila forced tears to her eyes. “You would be willing to forgive me? Just like that?”

“Well, not now, no.” Adrien said, finally speaking up.

Lila stared. Because…this was Adrien. Adrien Agreste who was Paris’s Sunshine Child and seemingly incapable of holding a grudge. Or standing up for himself.

And…he was going to refuse to forgive her?

“I figured your initial claims about knowing famous celebrities was just to make people like you. We could have forgiven you for that.”

His eyes narrowed.

“But then you used your lies to hurt people. And in ways you had to go well out of the way to do.”

“What?! No, I didn’t—”

But he cut her off.

“You tried to get Marinette expelled. You stole from all of us and made Rose’s charity work into a criminal act. And while we’re at it…” He drawled, making Lila nervous. “Maybe we can discuss how you’ve been spying on me for my father?”

Lila tensed briefly before putting on a wounded expression.

“That was just the akuma making things up!”

“Yeah, I spoke with my father about that.” Adrien continued, sounding…particularly cold. “Oh, and by the way, you’re fired.”

“Fired?” Lila balked. She clenched her fists and her shoulders raised in growing ire. “What do you mean ‘fired’?!”

Adrien steepled his fingers together as if he was trying to think. “Um, how else can I say it? You’re being let go. Your department’s being downsized. You’re part of an outplacement. We’re going in a different direction. We’re not picking up your option. Take your pick. I’ve got more.”

She grit her teeth.

She’d known from her call with Nathalie earlier that they were firing her. Part of her had believed that it was simply due to Witch Hunter’s control. But if that was the case, they shouldn’t remember it now. Though it could be that they remember the initial claim from Witch Hunter that brought them under her influence, but even then, there wouldn’t be any proof.

No…this had to be intentional. Given her suspicions of Gabriel, she had considered that he would cut ties, but to do it like this? Through Adrien? In front of everyone?

Oh. She was going to make him pay.

Outside of Lila’s thoughts of revenge and misery, the classmates realized something about Adrien’s totally cool and not at all corny or referenced speech.

Kim stared. “Dude…did you really just…”

Nino held up a hand. “Let him have this.” He wiped away a fake tear. “I’m so proud.”

Muffled chuckling from others indicated that they all knew what he had been referencing.

Except for Marinette, who was looking around in confusion. Because sure, Adrien was being cool just then and it was kind of funny to see Lila get some comeuppance, but what was all the snickering for? “Wait…what was that about?”

Adrien spun on her in shock. “Wait—you’ve never seen Emperor’s New Groove?”

Marinette blinked, uncertain. “Um…no?”

He took her hands in his, looking so serious that this had to be a matter of grave importance. “We must rectify this immediately. Will you come watch the movie with me? Father is being unusually lenient about things to make up for everything with Lila that he’ll probably allow a hangout this weekend.” He smiled. “So would you like to binge watch movies together?”

Oh. Oh, Marinette thought she was over this. But clearly not as she felt her face flush and her heart leap into her throat. Her brain was short circuiting because this was…this was a date with Adrien? ANOTHER date with Adrien? THREE dates with Adrien? That she hadn’t even had to be the one to ask him for? Just what is life right now? Was this life? Was this a dream? Lila finally outted as a liar and Adrien agreeing to spend time with her…this felt like a dream.

At best, she was only able to nod. And Adrien’s smile in response was near blinding. She didn’t even notice the way their classmates grinned or gave each other high fives.

…or the way Lila was turning red in her growing ire. 

Lila scratched angrily at her neck. Hard enough to leave marks.

Not only did he fire her, but now he was ignoring her and just flirting right in front of her?! It was bad enough she was revealed and chased around for the past few hours thanks to an akuma. Then betrayed by Hawk Moth. And then threatened by Ladybug. But this…this was just adding insult to injury by this point!

She wanted to say something—anything to break up this delightful little scene and wipe that happy look off their faces.

Sometimes, spite overcame reason.

“Oh please!” She shouted, drawing everyone’s gazes away from the cute scene and back to Lila where she was pointing at Adrien in anger. “The only reason he’s firing me is because I know he’s Hawk Moth!”

A long pause.

Alya looked at Adrien before turning back to Lila, eyebrow raised. “You mean Adrien?”

The blond in question paled and drew in on himself. It wasn’t true, but what if she brought up some ‘evidence’ like his tendency to disappear during akuma fights? Would anyone else believe her? Especially given how he’d messed up before and inadvertently helped Lila to create prime akuma material?

“Adrien isn’t Hawk Moth!” Marinette insisted, looking angry, and Adrien felt a combination of relief and admiration for the girl.

“Yeah!” Nino agreed, wrapping an arm around Adrien’s shoulders and holding out the other hand in front of them like he was trying to ward off Lila or perhaps her stench. “Don’t be talking about my boy like that!”

“Wow.” Kim muttered. “You’ve told some bad lies before but that takes the cake.”

“Shame on you, Lila!”

Lila reared back in shock at the direction this went. “What?! NO! I meant Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth!”

But people were just…rolling their eyes and looking away from her.

She held her hand to her chest in earnesty. Her other hand went to scratching her side, which kind of spoiled the effect. “He knows I’m a threat and he’s trying to discredit me!”

A long pause.

“You’ve already discredited yourself, Lila.”

“Yeah, it sounds like you’e just saying anything at this point.”

“She’s just mad that Mr. Agreste is letting her go.”

“After everything she did, I don’t blame him.”

“The guy os a jerk, but come on. Hawk Moth? Really?”

No one was even considering what she had to say now. If it wasn’t clear before, it was now.

Lila had lost any credibility.

Several of the classmates were gathered around Adrien, trying to support and comfort him over the accusations. She had a feeling that even if she had irrefutable evidence, they still wouldn’t believe it. Not now, anyway. It grated at her, but at this point, there was nothing she could do.

There was nothing she could do and she had just wasted her last trump card to no effect. And if it got back to Gabriel that she had accused him…

All the better to get out now then.

“Hey, wait!” Alix shouted as she noticed Lila trying to sneak away. “We’re not done here!”

Honestly, it was perfect timing that the teacher arrived to start class.

“All right, class! To your seats!” Bustier said, smiling nicely in her usual fashion.

And it looked like that would be the end of it. With Bustier back, there would be no further pressing of Lila. No retribution. No way to hold her accountable.

Alya for her part tried though. She raised her hand and called out insistently. “Wait! Ms. Bustier! Lila has been—”

Bustier shook her head. “I’m sorry, Alya, but it will have to wait. We’ve missed part of the school day as it is.” She paused and turned to Lila. “Oh, Lila! Your mother and the Principal are waiting for you in his office.”

Lila smiled politely. “Thank you. I’ll head right there.”

This was it then. A final meeting and she would be out of this school and out of Paris.

…though maybe after she takes a more thorough shower first, she thought to herself as she scratched at her neck.

Still, she couldn’t help but send one last smirk back at her now former classmates as she walked away. She hadn’t managed to pull them back under her sway, and she couldn’t say she had won.

But she could at least find some satisfaction in the growls and shouts of anger as she left them behind.

__________________

In the Principal’s office, the adults had a…rather interesting conversation of their own once Lila had departed.

“Good heavens! I didn’t know how much longer I could stand that smell.” Principal Damocles asked as he opened a window to try and freshen the air.

Amara Rossi took her seat in front of the desk, feeling a bit lightheaded herself. “Did something happen today? Science class? Chemicals, perhaps?”

“It could have been an akuma attack. We had one just earlier.” He replied.

Her eyes darkened. She was reminded of the constant prolonged akuma attacks that disrupt daily living and the inept superheroes who allowed them to persist. “I see. That will be one thing we will no longer have to worry about once we leave, at least.”

“Quite right.” He agreed kindly as he went to his files to pull out Lila’s paperwork. “I do hope that Lila’s new school will be better suited to accommodate all of her illnesses.”

Amara shook her head, uncertain of what she just heard. “I beg your pardon?”

“Of course we did try to adjust to Lila’s needs as we were made aware of them. Especially with her little…fibbing illness. But it was difficult without official documentation to clarify what she had and the best ways to address them. And we were never able to get clarification during her stay here.” He rested the paperwork on his desk and looked up to make eye contact with Mrs. Rossi. “We of course are not judging, but it would be prudent for you to make the appropriate arrangements prior to her arrival at her new school, wherever it may be.” He puffed up in pride. “And of course we will be more than happy to assist in sending over documentation as well—”

“No wait. Hold on.” Amara interrupted him. “What needs are you talking about?”

Needless to say, once Lila was out of the room, it didn’t take long for them to notice things weren’t adding up. And the conversation that followed ended up being…

“What tinnitus?”

Quite informative.

“What fall down the stairs?!”

With certain parties being made aware of things they hadn’t known previously.

“WHAT LYING DISEASE?!!”

By the end of it, both adults were in shock.

Damocles wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, clearly…unnerved to say the least. “I…erm…take it that some of these things might have been said…er…erroneously?”

Amara covered her face with her left hand, exasperated. “Unless my daughter has been under an akuma’s influence for the past several months the school has been closed.”

He frowned at that, unnerved. “On that note, I’ve been trying to reach out to you for some time about your daughter’s absences. Have you not gotten my calls?”

“I only received one or two. And Lila warned me not to answer because you were akumatized.” She paused in thought for a moment before lowering her hand and looking to the Principal. “Has the school been closed at all? Lila said you had been akumatized and that the school had been shut down, which was why she had to stay home for so long.”

Damocles blanched at that. “It was only the once! Well…twice actually, with the attempted mass akumatization during that one incident. But I assure you, madam, that the school was never closed. Certainly not for more than a day at any rate!”

She frowned, unsure. “But…the heroes…”

“Are quite adept at their job for youngsters!” Damocles hurriedly told her. “Akuma battles are normally finished within a couple of hours. Some have lasted overnight at most. There is only one to my knowledge that continued for a few days, but that was a rare exception and the damage was minimal.” Though the harm to Chloe’s mental state couldn’t be quantified.

“Oh…” She murmured. Wow. While Lila’s complaints had dampened her view of the city’s heroes, she had known her coworkers and the city at large seemed to admire them greatly. She regretted that she had never really listened to their gossip about them, but she was grateful she had never spoken up on what she had believed. Otherwise she would likely be a laughing stock at work.

He shook his head. “But no akuma has lasted for months, I assure you! In fact,” He said, reaching to his monitor and turning it so that they both could see the screen, “the Ladyblog should have all the facts about the akumas and our heroes!”

Amara observed the blog, curious. It was well made. Perhaps they could get the designer to help update the embassy site.

But on point, the blog listed news reports and updates. Hero sightings. Events. Akuma attacks. And in particular, the most recent attack…

“Wait!” She gasped. “Is that Lila?!”

From there, it had been a simple matter of reviewing the footage from the latest akuma attack.

Including the incident where Lila had shoved an innocent girl to the ground in front of the mob. (“That would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. A bright student and the Class Representative. But…er…she and Lila haven’t quite seen eye to eye and there was an…incident a few weeks ago…”)

As well as a compiled list that had been taken of every claim made by the akuma—Witch Hunter? She was apparently a classmate of Lila’s. And according to the Ladyblog, she had been a victim of Lila’s lies, which had resulted in her akumatization and targeting of Lila. (“My word!”)

And worst of all, a video of Lila tied to a pyre and surrounded by a mob of people wanting her to burn. In and of itself, it was horrifying. Especially for any parent to see their child in such a state.

But for Lila…it was like she didn’t think it was real. Like she didn’t think she was in any actual danger. Or she thought this was a game.

And that, Amara found most terrifying.

“This is…” She muttered in shock. She couldn’t even begin to describe it. Her daughter, tied to a pole. About to be lit on fire. All because she had been lying this entire time? Not just lying, but stealing from her peers? Framing people? And she didn’t dare say it, but from some of her statements in the video and the akuma’s claims, it almost looked as if she had been working with a known terrorist!

She had known her daughter wasn’t perfect or innocent. But this much? To go this far? And for what? She couldn’t even begin to understand…

“Madam, I…think this is a most serious matter.” Damocles stated. He was trying to be delicate but…well, really. How can one approach this sort of thing delicately?

“I agree.” She stated, resolutely. “Lila has been playing everyone it seems. But now that we know, what should we do from here?”

Damocles stroked his beard as he thought. “I admit we have never had a situation this extreme before. But if you will permit, I believe there may be a way to approach this…”

The rest of their time was spent discussing the matter at length and coming to an agreement. Damocles admittedly had his failings, particularly when it came to stubborn and selfish students with access to parents in positions of authority and willingness to abuse that authority to get their way. But when he wasn’t having to work around such barriers and had parents who were actually working with him instead of obstructing the school regulations, it was substantially easier to make appropriate accommodations and plan accordingly.

Which is what Lila ended up walking in to once she was asked to return to the office.

“Is everything settled?” She asked sweetly, her expression belying her earlier anger. Honestly, her only concern was finishing this as quickly as possible and going home to shower. A good three or four times.

She forced herself to ignore the way the adults in the room turned their heads away from her with upturned noses. She took advantage of the moment and attempted to unobtrusively scratch under her arm. Honestly, this itching was only getting worse! How had she not noticed it earlier?

“Well, Lila.” Damocles coughed as he turned on a fan. “Your mother and I have been discussing things and we couldn’t help but notice a few discrepancies.”

Lila froze. She steeled her expression to hide her rising panic. Because no. Not here. Not after everything.

“Lila…” Her mother called, her tone harsh and warning of her slowly boiling anger. “You told me that the school had been closed. And here I come to find that not only had it still been open and running all this time, but that you had been excusing your absences with claims of trips around the world!”

Shit.

Why had she left them alone?!

“But there were akuma attacks!” She insisted. “And the school was closed!”

“Not for weeks at a time!” Her mother exclaimed, furious. “And what is all this I’m hearing about your actions since you got here? Lying to your teachers? Stealing from a charity? Getting another student expelled?!”

Here, Lila straightened. “She had been bullying me and I had only been trying to protect myself.”

“Then why did you claim a lying disease to have her brought back?” Damocles questioned.

Lila hugged herself to look sad and sympathetic—and also used the opportunity to scratch at her side again. “I was threatened.” She admitted morosely. “Adrien said—”

“Adrien? Adrien Agreste?” Her mother interrupted. “You mean the boy you said was your boyfriend?”

Lila hesitated for a moment before a plan came together and she nodded. “Yes. It was why I wanted us to leave Paris. He’s been harassing me, Mama.” She shuddered and hitched her breath as if in fear. “He threatened me if I didn’t take back the allegations. He’s been cheating on me with her, Mama!”

“Interesting. Very interesting.” Her mother said in a blithe manner that only made Lila more nervous. “Because according to this Ladyblog, it sounds like  you were the one harassing him. As well as this Marinette girl, regardless of whether she is his girlfriend or not.”

Lila snapped up and gaped at her mother. The woman never bothered with the Ladyblog. Lila had been sure she hadn’t known it even existed!

“You can’t trust the Ladyblog! It’s just a teenager’s fan site! It’s nothing but lies!”

Her mother glared down at her. “Like this informative interview of you claiming to be Ladybug’s ‘bestie’?”

Lila paled.

“I was only trying to get people to like me and make friends.” She said, lowering her head in shame. Not that she had any, of course, but it paid to look the part at least. “I didn’t think anyone would see it.”

“Lila, the Ladyblog is extremely popular. It’s a central news source for anyone in Paris to know what the most recent update is regarding any akuma attack! Anyone would have seen it!” Damocles exclaimed.

“Even if it wasn’t,” Her mother continued. “You still shouldn’t have been claiming things like that! What if Hawk Moth saw it and thought it was true? What if he tried to kidnap or hurt you?”

She wasn’t worried about that. He wouldn’t have harmed her since she was working for him.

Well, Lila realized with a small wince. Not anymore.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” Lila said, looking away.

“Getting back on point.” Damocles interrupted. “There is the problem regarding all of the days you’ve missed. Your teacher was led to believe that you were out of town while you had informed your mother that the school was closed. This is a serious matter, young lady.”

There was no way to lie that she hadn’t done it now that both of them were aware and on to her. But she could still try to reframe things in her favor.

“I’m sorry. I had just needed a break for a while and I didn’t know how to tell you.” Lila spoke, tearfully. “It was just…all of the akuma attacks and everything with Adrien and the bullying…it was too much!”

She sobbed into her hands.

“I just couldn’t take it! I’m sorry!”

She continued her sobs for a good minute. Since she had her face covered and her head lowered, she couldn’t quite see how the adults in the room were responding. Sneaking a peak got her a glimpse at best lest she risk them seeing her.

Her mother looked drawn. The Principal seemed tired. Neither of them so much as tried to get closer to Lila to comfort her. Though that may very well have been due to the smell, and she cursed Witch Hunter and Ladybug both for causing the situation in the first place and for not fixing this with the Magical Cure as well.

Really, she thought hatefully. This was all their fault. Rose’s. The class’s. Hawk Moth’s. And especially Ladybug’s. She never would have ended up in this position if not for her!

“I’m sorry, Lila. If you were truly having such trouble, then you should have spoken to one of us about it and we may have been able to help you.” Damocles sighed. “I’m afraid there’s nothing else for it now. It’s already gone much too far for us to be able to overlook.”

Amara nodded, resigned. “I understand.”

Lila sniffled and raised her head.

“So I guess I’ll be expelled?” She asked with a mournful tone.

Okay. All right. So she would be sent to another school somewhere. A boarding school perhaps? Some sort of alternative or otherwise stricter school meant to “rehabilitate“ her, no doubt. She could handle this. It was still someplace new where no one would recognize her. It wouldn’t take too much before she could just start over. Within two months, no one there would even really know why she had transferred.

She could still make this work for her.

Damocles, however, looked at her in surprise.

“Expel you? What are you talking about? We don’t expel students for truancy.”

Lila froze.

“What?”

“You will be suspended for a time.” He continued. “Though I believe given the nature of your actions, it would be better for your suspension to be altered so you remain on campus and under constant supervision.”

Lila stared. She would swear she could hear cracks forming in her reality.

“And we will have to keep you in a separate classroom as well to remove any...distractions.”

Crack.

“Of course.“ her mother agreed. “I’ll be removing her computer and phone for the time being as well. Depending on how things go, we may have to dispose of them altogether.”

Lila felt her eye starting to twitch.

“This will be an opportunity for you to catch up on all the coursework you missed.”

Crack.

“And there will be a hearing as well.” Damocles continued. 

Lila jumped to her feet and slammed her hand on the desk.

“But—but you expelled Marinette immediately without a hearing!”

Damocles appeared flustered at that. “My actions at that time were…admittedly hasty, especially considering that it turned out they were based on a lie...” He gave her a sharp look at that. “But given what appeared to be dangerous and escalating behavior at the time, I had only acted in a way to protect the other students in this institution.”

He clasped his hands. “But less school is not the appropriate answer for a student whose crime was skipping school. Especially in this case given that Lila may very well need to be held back a grade as it is.”

“What?!” Lila demanded.

He gave her a dry look, unimpressed with her reaction or the repeated interruptions. “Young lady, regardless of your reasons, you’ve missed months of your precious education. Surely you didn’t think you would be able to graduate alongside your classmates. At this point, you won’t be able to get the approval from the conseil de classe to move on to the next grade, much less be prepared for the brevet.”

Lila blinked. “The what?”

Her mother groaned and covered her face. “It’s the mandated test required in secondary school into get your diploma, Lila.”

Lila gaped, glancing back and forth between the two, as if expecting this to be a joke. “But…college in France is just scuola media! It’s middle school! How do they require a diploma?!”

“It’s a national requirement and certification of the knowledge and skills acquired.” Damocles explained, ignoring the way mother and daughter were reacting as he instead puffed out his chest and straightened his jacket. “And we here at Francois-Dupont are dedicated to our students and making the appropriate accommodations to help them succeed! Regardless of any…”

He paused, sending Lila a look. “Complications.”

Amara sighed but faced Damocles. “So what would you recommend?”

He brightened at that. “The best answer to get young Lila back on track would be an alternative remedial program in which she can remain in school and make up for what she missed in a setting where she can be more closely monitored to keep something like this from happening again.”

Remain here? In Dupont? With everyone aware of her lies?

“You can’t do this!” Lila shouted. But to no avail as the adults paid her no mind at this point.

“What about the fraud?” Her mother asked. “I believe she had solicited funds under false pretenses?”

“Oh, that is outside our jurisdiction.” Damocles answered, waving it off. “We can only deal in school and school-related matters. Fraud is a legal issue, so that will be going to the courts as a separate case. But on that note, I would recommend getting a lawyer.” He said, turning serious.

“Hopefully, that won’t be necessary.” Amara replied. “As we will be making arrangements with the students who started the charity and reimburse the funds Lila took.”

“WHAT?!”

“Returning everything you bought with the money to the stores you purchased them from should be a good place to start,” the woman continued, “assuming they will even accept the exchange once they know what you did. Which you will be telling them if they didn’t already know from that akuma.”

“But…but I don’t have them!” Lila exclaimed, suddenly realizing that she had worn Marinette’s clothes back home and left her designer items at the bakery.

“Then you will just have to find some other way to make up the lost funds.” Her mother stated, dismissively.

Lila stomped her foot, the picture of a child throwing a tantrum. “But that’s not fair!” 

“You stole money from your classmates, Lila!” Her mother bit out sharply. “Giving back what you took is the very least you could do!”

“But I can’t pay it!” Lila yelled, scratching at her chin in fury.

“Then you can use your now copious amount of free time to take on some extra employment. Because you won’t be sitting around at home doing nothing or getting into more trouble while I’m not there. And you certainly won’t be going out with your friends—assuming you have any left after this mess.”

“But…where am I supposed to find employment?!”

Her mother looked through her tablet and pulled up a number of listings when she then handed to Damocles to print off. “There are always openings for extra hands. Odd jobs. A part time job. I don’t care if it’s something like washing dishes at a diner, you will be doing it. And whatever you earn is going to go to straight into the bank until you pay back every euro you took.”

Lila gasped. “I’m fourteen! That’s child labor!”

“That didn’t seem to be an issue when you were modeling for the Gabriel line without telling me.” Her mother countered, growing more furious.

Lila glared back, enraged and for once incapable of speech.

“Whatever you have to say, this is your own fault for stealing the money in the first place. And also using it when you knew it wasn’t yours!” The woman shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t even understand how you thought that was supposed to work.”

“We were supposed to be out of Paris already!” Lila muttered darkly.

Unfortunately for her, her mother heard her well enough. “Which I suspect was the real reason you suddenly wanted to leave, wasn’t it?”

Lila stayed silent. Merely sitting petulantly and scratching at her arm.

Her mother looked down at her daughter. She had never seen her like this before. And now that she knew what the girl had been up to, she wondered if she had been blind to the truth. And for how long.

She sighed.

“You dug yourself into this, Lila. And you won’t be running away from it. You are going to pay back what you took, no matter how long it takes. If this does end up going to court, you are going to agree to any deal they offer and you will make this right. And if you are very very lucky, they will accept your apology and your return of the money, and not pursue harsher charges. Because if they do, you will be accepting those charges and any consequences that come with them.”

Damocles coughed, daring to interrupt. “Am I to presume she will be losing her cellphone and laptop as well?”

“That would be a given.” Her mother replied. “Though at the rate this is going, I may very well sell those off as well to contribute to her debt.”

“What?!” Lila screeched. “But how am I supposed to do schoolwork then? Or keep in contact?”

“With pen and paper like everyone else. And you won’t need to worry about contacting anyone since you are going to be grounded for the foreseeable future.”

Lila groaned and sunk further into the office chair. She tried to keep her arms crossed, but couldn’t hold it for longer than a couple seconds before she felt the itchiness again and started scratching at her arms once more.

“And would you stop scratching yourself?”

“I can’t help it!” Lila cried, spilling real tears for once.

The lighting in the office was decent. Adequate to see by, but not quite enough to get a full detail of what they were looking at. In an attempt to help, Damocles turned on his desk lamp and moved it shine on Lila, putting her skin in much clearer display.

And particularly, the red and splotchy areas that were slowly spreading on her body.

“Good heavens!” Damocles shouted as he went to his phone to call the nurse. “That is an extensive rash, dear girl!”

Her mother grabbed her arm to look closer. “What did you do? Take a bath in the Seine?”

“I didn’t have a choice! I was being chased!” Lila exclaimed, attempting to pull her arm out of her mother’s hold so as to scratch more.

“That…would explain the smell.” Damocles noted before the receiver picked up and he quickly turned his attention to requesting the school nurse’s assistance.

“Did you at least wash it off? Didn’t you shower when you got home?” Her mother asked, exasperated as she had to keep hold of Lila’s arm to prevent her from scratching herself.

Lila hunched over. “No. I had to call you first.”

Her mother groaned in response, much to Lila’s irritation. She glared up at the woman who should be reassuring her own child in this hardship but instead was merely shaking her head at Lila like this was something she had simply brought upon herself!

How could she?! What sort of mother would be so cruel?

She barely paid any attention when the nurse entered the office with some ointment in hand. She only realized what they were doing when they started to slather the gel on her skin, which felt gross and humiliating. Made all the moreso with the way the nurse and her own mother couldn’t fight the looks of disgust at the smell that still covered her. Even Ladybug calling her out in front of Adrien hadn’t been so humiliating.

But it would get worse.

Damocles coughed. “We will resume this discussion another time. Madam, if you are willing, I can arrange a meeting with the students involved and allow you to discuss reparations in an informal…non-court setting.”

“If you please, that would be preferred. In the meantime, I will be taking Lila home so we can deal with all of���” She paused, waving her arms around and trying to think of the right words before simply shrugging with a sigh. “This.”

“Wait! I can’t go out there! Everyone will see me like this!”

It was perhaps out of some love as a mother, or just some small mercy that had Amara Rossi agree to take her daughter through a roundabout path out of the school. One that allowed Lila to take hallways that were less used and offered less visibility in and out of the classrooms.

And most importantly allowed her to avoid Bustier’s class.

After getting instructions from the school nurse regarding skin care to get rid of the rashes, Amara thanked both Damocles and the nurse before taking Lila outside. The two made it to the front of the school with few being there to witness Lila’s ‘walk of shame’ so to speak. It was probably more than Lila deserved, but her mother was hardly cruel. Tough when she had to be, certainly.

There was now just the final leg of the trip. Amara started down the steps of the school and made it to the bottom before she realized her daughter wasn’t following her.

“Lila!” She hissed. “Get down here!”

“But…” Lila hesitated, looking up and behind her to where Bustier’s class would have a perfect view of her exit.

“Now, Lila. Or do you still want to be out here when classes are over?”

Lila forced herself to move down the steps—both as quickly as possible to try and lessen the amount of time anyone had to see her and as carefully as possible to avoid anything touching the ointment on her skin.

“When we get home, the first thing you’ll be doing is taking a shower to clean yourself properly this time. We will be going through your room as well and taking back your laptop, your phone, and anything I even think you may have bought with that stolen money.”

Lila grumbled but didn’t argue.

“Yes, mother.”

At this point, she just prayed no one had seen her.

__________________

They saw her.

“Is that Lila?”

“It is! And her mom!”

“What’s that on Lila’s arms?”

“Oh. Wow.”

Bustier had stepped out of the room for what she said would be a minute while leaving the class with some assignment to do until she returned. Naturally, given the drama of the day, no one was really able to focus on the schoolwork. So instead, they took to quietly chatting with one another. Or in Alya’s case, nudging Marinette repeatedly as the girl tried to wrap her head around the prospect of having a date with Adrien.

No, THREE dates. Wait—were they dates? Like…date-dates?

Fortunately for her own peace of mind, her imagination was put on hold by the exclamations of those near the windows. Helpless to the draw of wanting to know what all the fuss is about, Marinette and the others on her side of the class joined those at the windows to see just what it was about Lila that had grabbed their attention.

And she had to say: Yikes.

“That has to be the worst rash I’ve ever seen.”

“Looks like that dip in the Seine did not agree with her.”

Marinette winced in sympathy.

As Ladybug, she had a few instances of having to make use of the Seine or the sewers as an exit, so she knew full well how nasty the water could be. The suit and resulting Cure would normally rid her of any of the water or contaminants or so Tikki said, but that didn’t stop Marinette from taking a good long shower afterwards. Or three. Just to feel clean afterwards, despite Tikki’s reassurance.

What happened this time?

She looked down to her purse, but the little clasp remained resolutely closed. Even when she tried to pull at it.

Tikki...what did you do?

“I feel kind of bad.” Rose murmured, resting a hand on the window. “She only jumped into the Seine because of me. Because I had everyone hunting her.”

“I don’t.” Alix replied. “You were only after her because of what she did.”

Nino nodded in agreement. “Yeah. And if the info on the Ladyblog regarding Lila’s crimes are any indication, she may have been doing it to help Hawk Moth.”

“We can’t prove that, though.” Ivan noted.

Rose hugged herself.

Marinette hugged her as well. “Whether or not Lila deserved it, it happened because of Hawk Moth. Not you. So please don’t blame yourself, Rose.”

Adrien came up next to them and rested a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “If we try to question who is truly at fault, we’ll be dragging this out forever. All we can do at this point is try to figure out where to go from here.”

“Hey, that’s right!” Mylene realized. “Rose, what are you going to do about the charity?”

Rose looked down. “I don’t know. It’s kind of pointless now since we don’t have the money anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t try again.” Nino reassured her.

Adrien nodded in agreement. “Plus Alya and I were talking earlier. If you still have the ledger of the funds, you could try to bring up charges against Lila to get the money returned. My father has some attorneys our company frequently uses for any legal issues. I could see about getting one of them involved to find out how to proceed on this.”

“Dude, seriously? Is your dad cool with this?” Nino asked, completely taken aback that the man would do such a thing.

“It’s only the beginning of what he could do to make up for his part in this.” Adrien muttered.

Nino blinked at his friend and his…strangely dark expression. Then he grinned and slapped Adrien on the back. “Good for you, man!”

“But what about Lila though?” Ivan asked.

“Murder?” Juleka asked.

Which of course, none of them took seriously.

Right? Right.

“If Lila’s mom’s attitude is any indication, I don’t think Lila will be getting away with the theft.” Kim said, looking out the window in the direction the two ladies left. “She looked maaaaaaad.”

“She is angry from what I have heard.” Max said from his seat. He didn’t look up from his tablet and was the only one aside from Nathaniel to not move from his desk. “Apparently Lila had been lying to her mother and the school about why she’s been absent for months. And then with the theft on top of that, plus all of the other things revealed thanks to Witch Hunter, I believe there is a 97.3% chance that Lila will be grounded for the foreseeable future.”

“Wait. How do you know that?” Kim asked.

“Markov told me.”

“Oh.”

A pause.

“And…how does HE know tha—”

Max simply disregarded him and turned to Rose. “You should probably discuss the matter with Lila’s mother. It sounds like she is taking the issue seriously and would like to meet with you and work this out appropriately.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” She said with a smile. Albeit a somewhat wary smile.

“So there may be a chance to get the money back then?” Ivan asked, hopefully.

“But wait—what about Prince Ali?” Alix realized.

This brought all eyes to Rose, who looked hurt at the reminder of her friend cutting off ties with her.

“Rose…” Marinette started.

She winced. “I…still have his email. I don’t know if he’ll talk to me, but…I can apologize. And I can try to make it right. I think…” She took a breath. “I think I understand now why he was so upset. He’s a Prince and must be used to a lot of people trying to use him.”

She hesitated, looking down.

“Lila was…probably that exact type of person. And she was able to use him through me—even if she didn’t know it.”

The others winced.

Yeah, it was probably a good thing they learned about Lila now before it got too serious. Who knows what would have happened if Lila had ever actually gotten to meet him? Or really any of the other celebrities they actually knew.

Rose bit her lip for a moment, then looked up. “I’ve been thinking…if I do get the money back…since the charity Lila had told us about doesn’t exist, we can’t donate the money as planned. I would like to give the funds to a charity with a similar purpose—I even found one that looks genuine and does a lot of good, but…” She frowned. “That’s still misleading to the people who originally donated.”

“So what will you do?”

“I have a log of everyone who donated since I had wanted everyone to get credit or some sort of ‘Thank You’ for helping. I can try to reach out to them and ask them what they want to do.” She brightened slightly. “Alya is also helping by putting a notice on the Ladyblog about what happened and what we’re doing so that anyone who did donate before can be alerted and know to contact me.“

Alya smiled. “It seems to be working so far. If anything, I’ve been more messages from people wanting to donate as well.

Mylene gasped in delight. “You may end up with even more funding for your charity, Rose.”

“Just as long as we make it clear it’s the real deal this time.” Alya agreed. “I posted the charity’s info on the website as well as some links to verification sites so people can check for themselves that it’s real. This way, we don’t run into the same problem we had with Lila or get accused of lying ourselves.”

Well, that was a relief. They had a plan and they were certainly taking this seriously.

“I’m glad for you, Rose.”

Rose smiled back. “Thank you. I know this doesn’t really fix everything, but it feels like the right thing to do.”

“Aww!”

The group hug that commenced was just what they all needed.

__________________

Tom and Sabine had quite the busy day. Especially with that girl who had come in earlier and snuck into Marinette’s room.

And the akuma. Though they were at least getting used to daily disruptions caused by those.

“I hope nothing came of it.” Sabine worried as she was finishing putting things away. “I’m sure she was doing something up in Marinette’s room.”

“I’m sure if anything happened, Marinette could handle it. And if she couldn’t, she would let us know.” Tom replied as he headed to the laundry room to put away their used aprons and towels.

There was silence for a bit.

Then…

“Honey?”

Sabine paused and turned towards her husband. “Yes, dear?”

“Did that girl ever come back with Marinette’s clothes?”

Confused, she started towards the laundry room where her husband was. “No, why?”

Tom turned to her, with some items in hand. “I think she left her things behind and the Miracle Ladybug Cure didn’t send them back.”

Sabine stared. “Oh my!” She reached forward. “These look practically brand new!”

“And expensive.” Tom added.

The two looked over the items before looking up at each other. With a nod, they seemed to come to the same conclusion.

“Early birthday gift for Mari!”

“We’ll take it to Roger.”

…not…so same conclusion, evidently.

Sabine gave Tom a flat look. Tom smiled embarrassedly and rubbed his head.

“Yes. We can take it to Rodger as part of the case.” He agreed, sheepishly.

Sabine sighed and shook her head.

“Though maybe we can discuss it with the school.” She mused. “Since that girl is a student there. And some of the things on the Ladyblog are a bit concerning…”

“Should we still press charges?” Tom asked, worried. “Let’s wait and speak with Roger tomorrow. And see what Marinette has to add.” Sabine said, taking the items from Tom and placing them in a safety box where they wouldn’t be mistaken as common items.

…or early birthday gifts.

__________________

Taking the Dragon Miraculous back to Fu was easy enough.

Apologizing for beaning him with a pot was less so.

“It is all right, Marinette. Really.” Fu assured her as he took the box back from her and restored the choker to it’s rightful place. “With the Miraculous Cure, I no longer have the injury.”

Marinette winced from her seat at the table. “Still, I feel really bad about it.”

He shook his head. “You did what you had to. The akuma’s influence was widespread by that point and the situation was dire.”

Especially since her kwami and the Guardian himself had both been affected as well.

He wouldn’t say he…approved with her methods. Or the headache it had caused him. But it had allowed her to defeat the akuma and restore things in the end. And truly, that was what mattered.

“It took a lot of strength from you today, Marinette. I am proud of what you accomplished.” He told her as he returned the Miracle Box to its hiding place.

“I just wish I could have helped Rose more.” She murmured.

“You did everything you could, Marinette!” Tikki insisted.

“It is difficult, but sometimes there is only so much that can be done, even with the aid of the Miraculous.” Fu returned to his seat at the table. “But I sense that is not the only thing on your mind today. Am I wrong?”

Marinette gasped. “Oh, Master! There’s something we’ve discovered today. Something really important!”

Tikki gasped. “That’s right!”

The two nodded to each other and spoke at the same time.

“Gabriel Agreste is Hawk Moth!”

“Adrien invited you to see a movie!”

Marinette froze, turning red at the reminder.

Tikki, for her part, blinked at Marinette in confusion.

“Wait…you mean what Lila said earlier?”

“That’s right.” Marinette said, turning her attention to Fu and away from any distractions of stupidly cute blond boys. “Earlier today, Lila tried to claim that Gabriel Agreste was Hawk Moth.”

Fu frowned. “Marinette, are you sure about this? Lila Rossi was Hawk Moth’s accomplice. As well as an unrepentant liar. This may be a lie as well.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Lila tells lies if she thinks they’ll benefit her, but she’ll tell the truth if she thinks it could serve her more.”

Yeah, she knew that much from Lila’s attempt to sneak into her room and get dirt on her.

But more than that, Hawk Moth had betrayed Lila. After working with him all this time, someone she had…at least trusted she could use if not actually trusted had turned on her. And was even outright going to let the akuma kill her.

If Lila could be so spiteful for this long over Ladybug simply telling someone she had lied about knowing her, she couldn’t put it past the girl to not hold some grudge against Hawk Moth as well. And if she thought she knew who he was…

Well, if all else had failed her, there was no reason at that point not to try to reveal it.

“It would explain her connection to Gabriel Agreste as well.” Marinette reasoned. “He was a known recluse for a year before Adrien started school. He would keep Adrien from any events. Refused to let his friends come to visit him or for him to visit them. And wouldn’t even let Adrien have a birthday part.” She frowned, tapping her chin.

“So why would a man like that who is so protective of his son trust some random teenage girl with Adrien’s well being? Especially one he has never met who lied to his staff, forced her way into his home, manipulated his son into a photo op,” Not that she was bitter of course, “…and snuck into his personal office?”

Fu frowned, considering her words. “That is strange.”

“Exactly!” Marinette said, pushing closer to the table in earnest. “Even if she didn’t know he was Hawk Moth at the start, she still tried to get to him because of his control over Adrien. It was a connection she knew she could use, so it would benefit her. Which is Lila’s MO.” She said with a roll of her eyes.

She shook her head. “But this would explain why he would seemingly trust her. If he was Hawk Moth, that means he akumatized her before. Three times, even!”

Fu nodded. “The powers of the Butterfly would have let him know what she was like. If she was a willing assistant as Witch Hunter’s scroll proclaimed, he would have known.”

Tikki gasped. “It could also explain the mass akumatization when you had gotten expelled!”

Marinette gripped the table in growing anger. “They must have planned it! How else would he have known to have it ready?”

“Calm yourself, Marinette.” Fu reached out to place a hand over her own. “This is a good theory, but you don’t want to open yourself to an akuma. Especially not after everything that has already happened today.”

She wilted at that. “You’re right, Master. I’m sorry.”

“That is all right.” He assured her with a kind smile. “It is healthy to feel emotions, but you cannot let them overcome you.”

“But…” She hesitated. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

He paused for a moment, thinking it over as he took a sip of tea. “I had suspected once before that whomever had the Grimoire likely had both the missing Miraculous as well. After Gabriel Agreste had been akuamtized, I had wondered as you did whether it was simply coincidence.”

“Because the Butterfly user can’t akumatize himself, can he?” She asked.

He gestured to the tablet containing the translated Grimoire. “Normally, I would say not. But as you have learned, there are ways around any barrier. And as coincidences increase, at some point, we must ask how many coincidences are necessary before something is proven true.”

He smiled. “One such coincidence may be that he had the lost Grimoire. But another may be how convenient it was that he should be akumatized immediately when anyone may be suspecting him after its loss.”

She frowned, uncertain.

“Let us think on it for now, Marinette. And it will be best if we keep an eye on both Gabriel Agreste and Lila Rossi in the meantime.”

“Yes! Thank you, Master Fu!” She nodded before getting up and heading to the door.

“Goodbye, Master! Goodbye, Wayzz!” Tikki chimed before she flew into Marinette’s purse.

As Marinette walked down the street towards home with Tikki in tow, she continued to think over things. What she had learned. What Master Fu had told her. What she had experienced throughout the day.

“Oh!” She gasped as she realized something.

“What is it, Marinette?” Tikki asked from within the opening of the purse. They were mostly alone for the moment, so they could afford to speak if they did so quietly.

“Something I’d been meaning to ask you.” Marinette told her. “What happened with Lila today? The Cure normally fixes things to how they were before the akuma, so why was Lila covered in a full body rash?”

“The Cure sometimes acts in mysterious ways.” Tikki replied.

Marinette frowned. The answer was obviously vague. And Tikki’s refusal to meet her gaze indicated she knew more than she was letting on.

“Tikki…”

“Oh, look at the time! You should be getting home, Marinette!”

“TIKKI!”

__________________

Rose looked over her draft for what had to be the thirtieth time.

Excessive, maybe. But she wanted to make sure she was doing it right.

Ali,

I do not know if you will read this letter, or if it has even been permitted to reach you. At the very least, I am hoping for a chance to tell you from the bottom of my heart:

I am sorry.

While I had never meant to harm you, it doesn’t change the fact that you were harmed. And this harm could have been prevented had I been more cautious.

I could come up with any number of reasons as to why I chose to put my trust in the wrong person. The girl I had thought was promoting this charity was my friend. I wanted to believe the best in my friend. But that is no excuse.

If I truly had respect for you as a friend and as your station of Prince, I should have done my due diligence in ensuring the honesty of anyone I trusted. Especially before I tried to encourage you to trust them as well.

You were right. It was foolish of me.

From your perspective, it must have seemed as a sign that I did not take your friendship seriously. And I am deeply ashamed that I ever allowed that impression to anyone, but to you most of all.

If you choose not to forgive me, I understand. But I at least want you to know that I am going to make this right.

I am pursuing legal options against the girl in question. I do not know how much we will be able to see returned, but I fully intent to refund the donations to you and everyone else who had trusted me to do the right thing.

This may not fix anything. And you do not owe me anything from it. But I hope I can at least try to make up for my mistake and be the person you believed me capable of instead of the fool she turned me into.

Thank you for everything,

Rose

She took a breath.

Okay.

This was it then.

Any last words? Any final changes? Any regrets?

…no.

She shut her eyes and clicked ‘send’.

And finally exhaled. With the air, she breathed out all of her anxieties, fears, and doubts.

She had done what she could.

She was doing what she can.

That was…that was all anyone could expect of her.

All that she could expect of herself.

…

…

…

That didn’t make it not ache though.

But there was nothing for it now, she realized as she turned away from her computer to go to bed.

She wanted to fix things. Desperately so. But she couldn’t force Ali to accept her apology and forgive her anymore than she could force Lila to be honest.

Rose curled up under her covers and hugged her pillow close.

It was a small comfort. But one she was going to allow herself.

She hoped for the best. She always did.

But even if he didn’t…she would move forward and continue doing good. Just as he inspired her to.

She just…

A couple tears fell.

She had just wished he would be around to see it.

It would take another hour before she would fall asleep.

…

…

…

It would be another three hours before an email alert came up on her computer.

__________________

Ugh.

Lila fell onto her bed, huffing angrily.

This whole day sucked.

She was attacked by an akuma. Everyone turned on her. Hawk Moth was going to let her die. And even when everything was saved, everything was ruined.

Thanks, Rose. Thanks, Hawk Moth. Thanks, Ladybug.

And now she was stuck here in Paris and couldn’t even get away from any of it!

She groaned into her pillow. She couldn’t be too loud, though, as her mother was being annoyingly alert and “keeping an eye on her” now. The last thing she needed was to give her reason to suspect something was up and cause her to come barging into her room.

There was no escape this time. Not now that everyone knew.

She’d still have to deal with her class. Even worse, she’d have to see Adrien and Marinette making eyes at each other.

She’d still have to deal with the school. And now that they knew what she did, she wouldn’t be getting away with anything again.

She’d still have to deal with Hawk Moth, and his akumas would still be a risk for her, as well. She wouldn’t put it past him to try to take her out. What little power and control she had was gone now.

And worst of all…

…Ladybug.

That measly little bug and her damn threat against her. To follow her. To keep an eye on her. To be her…special friend.

Like she would really do that.

Lila turned over in her sheets, settling into her bed and getting comfortable.

Or trying, at least.

Something felt off. She just didn’t know what.

She glanced around her room. It was much more barren now since her mother had cleared out a lot of her belongings. Her laptop and cellphone were gone, as was the limited light they provided in the dark.

She huffed and turned over to face away from the door.

Half asleep, she glanced out the window.

Two glowing blue orbs were staring back.

She screamed.

__________________

A creak of a window opening and closing.

A giggle.

“Huh? Tikki? Zzat you?”

“I’m fine, Marinette. I was just checking on something.”

A yawn.

“What was it?”

Another giggle.

“Nothing important.”

Two blue eyes sent a glare out into the city.

“Nothing at all...”

#BURN THE WITCH! #witch hunter #ml fic #marinette dupain cheng #tikki #adrien agreste #rose lavillant #lila sucks