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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 3 years

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Home (Four Times Crowley was Lovesick - and Aziraphale Took Care of Him)

Written for @do-it-with-style-events "Who Needs A Great Plan" event, Day 1, prompt "Four"

Crawly stood beneath the white wing, watching the rain fall, watching the humans walk away, watching anything but the angel beside him, his smile, the way he furrowed his brow and pouted.

His heart kept doing a funny skipping thing every time he looked that way, which was odd, and made him think he’d gotten some sort of defective body, or possibly that he’d messed something up in the transition from the serpent form.

“You know, I do think this rain might not be as pleasant as I’d hoped,” the angel said, tipping his head back so sopping white curls dangled, dripping onto his robe. “I’m starting to feel a bit cold, are you?”

“Nah. M’adem’n,” Crawly muttered, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

“Well. I suppose we all have our aptitudes.” He reached down to squeeze the rainwater from his sleeve. “I suppose you carry the fires of Hell within you, or something?”

“S’nice.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the angel turn to smile at him and now his heart was doing some sort of backflip, and his stomach attempting to dance. “G-g-gotta keep’m somewhere.”

“I see. I do find myself missing my sword, but I think…” his lips pursed. “I think it’s in the right hands.”

How could he forget the angel had given away his sword.Fucking brilliant.

Crawly sniffed, and the cold seemed to creep into his nose. “M-must’a b’n-n-nice t’have a-a-achoo!”

His body must be worse than he’d thought. His entire face seemed to have exploded.

“Good lord, what was that?” The angel shuffled closer, peering at him, reaching up to poke at Crawly’s nose. “Is this supposed to make that sort of noise?”

The demon braced himself, expecting pain, expecting a reprimand, expecting anything but a soft finger gently massaging the bridge of his nose, pressing lightly as if he might break.

“S’only a-achoo!” Not again. “Achoo! A-CHOO!”

“This sounds serious!” The angel now stood so close that his arm pressed against Crawly’s. “Oh! And your hand!” He snatched it up, gently tracing his fingers across the demon’s palm. “It’s cold! Have your fires gone out?”

“Nnnnnnnnnh. S’th’cold,” he confessed. “S’getting in m’nose.”

“Well, that will not do.” Being careful to keep his wing in place, the angel looped his arms around Crawly’s waist, drawing him into an unexpected softness, a steady warmth. “There. Is this better?”

“Mrgl.” Crawly didn’t look over, even as the angel leaned against him. He shifted his am, putting it around the angel’s shoulders, rubbed his forearm as he rubbed Crawly’s side, but the demon did not look.

It was safer that way.

“Then you hold the oyster like this, and—” Aziraphale slurped it out of the shell.

“Ngk.” Crowley swirled his wine, glaring into the cup. “I…maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.”

“Nonsense! Trying new foods is one of the delights of the world.”

“Yeah, but…I prefer foods that don’t smell so bad.”

That made Aziraphale laugh, which made things harder. It seemed to echo in Crowley’s chest, send his heart into answering flutters. He shifted on the couch, but there was only so far he could roll before it was impossible to drink. Which meant he had to keep looking across the table, at Aziraphale’s couch, where he reclined in a rolling curve of soft white toga and ate his oysters and wouldn’t stop smiling.

“Crowley? Are you feeling quite well?”

“Nrgh. Yeah. Why?”

“Because I asked four times how your wine is and you never responded.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t remember, so he drank a mouthful, then immediately spat it out. Salt water and vinegar, same as any Roman wine. “Lousy.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” And all at once, the angel rolled off his couch and now he was crossing the room and oh Satan, he was on Crowley’s.

This was a disaster.

Aziraphale leaned down and rested a hand on Crowley’s forehead. “You do feel extremely warm. Are you ill? I’m not sure a demon can get ill but—”

“Yes! Yes. That.” He tried to sit up. “Very, very ill. I should go. I should go now—”

“But—”

Crowley managed to get his feet under him, and his robe under his feet, and he collapsed again, falling onto something softer than the couch Oh Satan it was Aziraphale’s lap.

“Crowley!” His head turned instinctively and shit, those eyes were so close.

His heart was going to explode, but it was worth it.

“I should…take you home…”

“Ahhhhhhhh,” Crowley managed. Yes. Please. Please, wherever you call home, that’s where I want to be.

“Yes. Right. Immediately. Tell me where you’re staying, and I will escort you back.”

“My…my…oh.” His stomach was doing something new, twisting around itself. Like when he saw the Hellhounds getting ready for a walk, but worse. “M’a’th’p’liss.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m! At! Th—thepalace.” Great. Now he was either shouting or mumbling. Why couldn’t he think?

“Good. Right. Palace.” He slid his arm behind Crowley, supporting him. “Do you think you can walk?”

The demon’s legs had never shaken like this before. “Definitely not.”

“That’s alright.” And Aziraphale scooped him up into his arms, as easily as if Crowley were a child. “I’ll help you.”

Crowley hadn’t slept in over a month.

He shouldn’t have needed to. Demons didn’t sleep. But he’d gotten used to it, most nights, and now his task consumed him day and night, driving him to ever more complex plans, ever more desperate measures.

But finally…finally…he’d gotten a bloody crowd to see that gloomy talk-y play.

And just in time. Aziraphale had sent word that he was returning tonight, and he was supposed to meet Crowley here, outside the inn. The demon had rooms above, which had been used for scheming and planning and plotting and not, for a long time, sleeping.

He was fine, though. Running on pure adrenaline, yeah, but that just made life good. He couldn’t wait to swagger into that theater, spread his arms and show the angel—

“Ah, Crowley! There you are, my good fellow.”

He turned his head and fuck, there went his knees. Aziraphale was smiling at him like he was actually glad to see Crowley, and his entire body just stopped obeying any commands or even regular rules of biology. He staggered, legs feeling watery, his head spun, lights brighter than stars flashing before his eyes, and his heart just ached to reach out.

“Crowley? Is something the matter?”

“Mnothang.” Brilliant. He slumped against the wall of the inn, trying to get some sense of reality back. “M’a little tired’s’all.”

“Tired? Are you sure?” Aziraphale rushed forward, cupping Crowley’s face in his hand. “You feel…clammy. I need—can you take your glasses off? I need to see your eyes.”

“Szfiiiine.” But he pulled them off, and found himself again pierced by eyes glowing just a bit too blue to be allowed.

“No, no your eyes are glassy. And—and look, your pulse is racing.”Now came the concerned look, oh Satan, no one else ever looked at Crowley like that. “This…this looks a great deal like the latest plague, I saw several villages struck by it coming back.”

“Angelllll. M’ademon. We don’ get th’plague.” Why could he not just speak normally?

“Nonsense, you know perfectly well you’ve always had a strange constitution, getting sick far too often. You still have rooms here, yes? Upstairs. To bed.”

Will you come with me? The angel’s hand hadn’t moved from Crowley’s cheek, and he never wanted to be away from that touch again. “But…”

“No buts.” The hand did fall away, but only to grip his shoulder, spin Crowley around and propel him forward, through the door, and up the stairs.

Aziraphale walked past the mess in his room, the papers, notes, maps, disguises, and everything else needed to convince a city it actually liked that blasted play. He steered Crowley directly to the bed, and pushed him down onto it. “There. Stay put, please.”

“Nnnnh.” It wasn’t the most comfortable place he’d ever lain, but the rough straw mattress seemed luxurious just now. Something tugged at his foot, and he looked up to find Aziraphale, carefully pulling his shoes off. “Still here?”

“What are you talking about? Where else would I be?” He sounded cross.

“The play.”

“Play? Play? Oh, yes, Hamlet.” He tossed the shoes aside and settled Crowley’s leg back onto the bed. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of opportunities. I hear they’re planning to run it twice as long as they’d expected.”

Of course they were, Crowley was good at his job. But there was no point if Aziraphale didn’t see the crowd. “Gotta go,” he insisted, though his body was already curling up on itself, preparing for a long sleep.

“Absolutely not.” A rustle, and when Crowley’s eye cracked open again, Aziraphale was seated on the edge of the bed, taking Crowley’s hand in his. “I need to make sure you’re alright.”

“Hnnngh.” But he was far too exhausted to argue. “Why’r’ya’lways…fussing…like y’r worried…”

He didn’t hear Aziraphale’s answer, but in his dream the angel said, “Of course I worry. Whatever would I do without you?”

“All them angels,” Crowley shouted, bottle in hand, “an’specially Gabriel, can go! To! Helllllllll!”

“Really? And what about the demons already there?”

“Thas’th brilliant part.” He staggered a little, grinning at Aziraphale. Their celebration at the Ritz had gotten a little out of hand, but in a good way. A way they bloody well deserved. “Th’demons. They go to Heaven. But. But. Buuuuuuut.” He took a long drink, then offered the bottle to the angel, who shook his head. “Wha’was I…ri’ri’righ’—go to Heaven. But. Don’ tell’em th’passwords. For anyfing.”

“Won’t they just figure them out?”

“Nnnnnnnnope! Cuz allll the brains in Hell are right here!” He shouted in the general direction of the office building. “Have fun puttin’…Hastur’n charg’a…stuff…” He tried for another drink, but the wine had all gone. “Awwww.”

“Don’t worry, my dear, we’re nearly home.”

“Ya. S’good.” Home was good. Plants. Television. More wine. The bed. Hadn’t slept all week.

Why was Aziraphale coming with him? Hadn’t the shop un-burned down? Had he left something at Crowley’s flat? A…spare bowtie?

Also: why did Mayfair look suspiciously like Soho?

The penny dropped at about the time Aziraphale got the shop door unlocked. “Thizzisn’ home,” he pointed out.

“Well-spotted. Come on, then.”

Shrugging, Crowley followed. There’d be more wine here, at least, and a sofa to sleep on. Not the most comfortable, but he was tired enough.

Something was different. Crowley squinted at a pile of books, but they remained stubbornly bookish. Ah, well. Sofa.

He slumped on it, waiting for Aziraphale to head to the back room for some wine, or settle into his armchair. Maybe pick up a book to read while Crowley rambled.

Instead, the angel sat beside him.

“Annngiraphel…”

“Crowley. Are you sure you’re feeling well?”

“Course. I’m cebretory. Cerebrorrry. Celebatory. ‘M partying.”

“Yes, I know. But…I just…” Oh, Someone. The concerned, furrowed brow. The pouting lips. The eyes. So much worse than the smile. Good thing Crowley was already sitting, because the room was starting to spin, even before Aziraphale picked up his hand. “I wish you would take care of yourself.”

“Wha? I do. Allllays do. No one else’z gonna do’t. Not’n Hell. Wily demon, righ’?” He tried to smile, even as his heart and stomach started switching places.

“Then why are you always unwell? I’ve lost count of…of how many times I’ve seen you falling over, unable to speak, too hot or too cold.”

“Ssssss’not like that.”

“Yes it is! And…and it was bad enough before. Crowley, we…we’re all we have left. Each other. And…and whatever it is that…that gets you into this condition…alcohol, or illness, or…whatever else. I wish you would avoid it.”

“Can’t.”

“Crowley—” Aziraphale pulled his hand closer, eyes pleading, and for a moment the demon thought he’d just discorporate on the spot. Probably would have if he’d been sober.

“Can’t. S’only one thing tha’makes me…fall orer mysel’. Makes me…can’t speak. S’only evrrr been one.”

Aziraphale’s face was so soft. Crowley couldn’t figure out how his hand had gotten there, pressed to his cheek, but it was good.

Or not. Angel’s eyes went wide. Probably did something wrong. Crowley pulled his hand back, wondering if he’d be kicked out.

“Can you…sober up, dear?”

“Nnnnnnnnnnnnidonwanna.” He wrinkled his nose. Shoulda stopped three bottles ago.

“Yes, I know. But you’ll likely have a hangover either way, and you might as well have it now. And…I want to finish this conversation sober.” Oh, the sad eyes, the serious face.

“Awwwwwtha’s no’fair. S’not like I c’n say no.”

“I…yes, you can. It is your choice.”

“Nnnh. Can’t say no’ta’you.” He looked around for something, maybe a garbage bin or…oh, yes, a planter. Lucky tree was about to get some very expensive alcohol.

He concentrated, pulling all the alcohol out of his body, filling one planter, then another, then another. As the light-headedness faded, the headache came in, pounding and pulsing.

“Glarghl.” Crowley pressed a hand to his eye. “See? Sober. Happy?”

“Not yet. Can you walk?” A light tug on his hand, and Crowley staggered to his feet, trailing after Aziraphale. Up the stairs? They never went up there. Private bookshelves and sculptures and junk.

At the top, Aziraphale opened a door that he’d thoughtwas a closet but actually led to Crowley’s bedroom.

Wait.

Crowley turned around, bleary eyes searching the shop. Plants. His plants. His sculptures. Junk. Also his.

Back to the bedroom. His bed, his furniture. Not his room. Wooden walls covered in bookshelves, good sized window looking out at the back alley. He could just see the Bentley parked out there.

“Th’fuuuuck…”

“I’m…I’m sorry. I should have asked.” Aziraphale gently pushed him towards the bed. “If you don’t like it, I’ll put everything back tomorrow. I just.” A gentle nudge, and Crowley sat on the bed. “I want you close. Where I can take care of you.”

“Don’need it.” He wriggled his toes, making his boots vanish. It was easier than meeting Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Yes, you do.” A hand on his shoulder pushed Crowley down into the bed, his head onto the pillow

It felt so much more comfortable here, in Aziraphale’s shop, with Aziraphale beside him.

“No. Don’t need you to take care of me.” He stared resolutely up at the ceiling, searching his aching head for the words he needed. Swallowing, trying to push aside the pain, the soreness in his throat. “I need…I just need…”

He couldn’t say it. But he reached out, hand groping along the edge of the bed until it found Aziraphale’s, resting lightly on the mattress. Cautiously, Crowley slid his hand on top of it.

“Crowley…please look at me.” His eyes wandered down, following the shelves until they landed on Aziraphale’s face. On his brilliant, angelic smile.

The demon tried to smile back, though his head was pounding. He managed something like a grimace. “Nnnnnnnnh. C’n we finish this in’th’morning.”

“Do you think you’ll be better able to talk?”

“Mrrrf. Will you be there?”

“Of course,” the angel said, nearly indignant.

“Nope. Not a chance.” His thumb traced the back of Aziraphale’s hand. “I can never say what I want. S’not even that many words. But…” Crowley shrugged.

“Can you move over?” Aziraphale asked, sliding his hand out from under Crowley’s.

The demon blinked, confused, and wriggled further along the mattress.

The bed dipped under the new weight as Aziraphale climbed into the vacated space, laying beside him. “I…I could never say it, either. Always something stopping me, some…uncertainty. Even now. But I shall keep trying.” His fingers gently brushed Crowley’s cheekbone. “My dear…would you like to…to make this place…your home?”

“Nh. Shop’s not home.” The fingers jerked away, and Aziraphale’s brow furrowed, not in concern this time, in pain. Fuck. Why was it so hard?

He caught Aziraphale’s hand before it could get far, bringing it back, gently resting it against his heart. “This, Angel. This’s home. You.”

“Oh.” Blue eyes blinked, a look of wonder in them Crowley had felt many times, wonder at this being who cared for him, who stayed by him. Always. “I…I see.”

The mattress shifted again, and suddenly the angel was closer. Which of them had moved? Did it matter? Did anything matter, apart from Aziraphale’s arm across him, all the warmth and softness he could ever ask for, pulling him in, pulling him close, enveloping him as it had that first day.

“Yes. Welcome home, dear.”

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giuliafc · 3 years

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Nightmares

Written by: JuliaFC

Betas: Khanofallorcs, Agrestebug, Etoile-Lead-Sama and Genxha. Thank you all so much!

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Written for the Facebook h/c group “Hurt/Comfort Italia - Fanart and Fanfiction - GRUPPO NUOVO | Groups | Facebook”, weekend challenge, “Atonement 2.0”. I was asked to write a *coughs* drabble about character A being stuck somewhere and character B having to help them. If you speak/read Italian and are interested in the genre, join us! We’ll be glad to see you!

oOoOoOoOoOo

The sound of her frantic whimpers woke him up. He looked around wildly and, at first, panicked because he didn’t recognise anything. It took him a few minutes to realise that it was Nino’s lounge. He was sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor.

Yes, the memories of the day before came back in a flash.

~~That morning~~

Marinette looked very tired that morning at school. Alya looked at her worriedly and told her that she shouldn’t stay awake all night working on projects all the time. She needed to sleep. So she acted instinctively, as she usually did, and decided that the only way that they could ensure that Marinette would have a full night of sleep was to be physically there to check up on her. Easy as pie. Alya was a master organiser when she had something in her mind. And she had decided that she wanted Marinette to have a sleepover with them at Nino’s. So in literally five minutes she cleared her schedule and Nino’s, rang Tom and Sabine and asked them for permission to ‘kidnap Marinette for a night’ and organised for Nora to look after Chris and the twins.

Marinette tried to complain. She really did her best to get out of the situation. But Adrien didn’t like that. Exactly like Alya, even he worried about the growing bags under Marinette’s eyes, and about how easily she fell asleep during their school day. She looked exhausted. He had asked her a couple of times in the last few weeks to slow down, because he really didn’t like how tired she looked. It seemed as though every time after, he saw her coming to school looking more exhausted than before. This time she literally fell asleep the second Mlle. Bustier’s lesson started and stayed asleep (aided by the fact that he and Alya explained to their teacher that Marinette’s health would benefit from the nap) for the whole lesson.

So when Marinette tried to complain about not wanting to take part in the sleepover and tried to get out of it, Adrien blatantly lied. He hated lying, and he wouldn't do it normally (except to protect his identity, of course), but Marinette was too dear a friend for him to worry about menial ethical concerns.

“It’s a shame that you don’t want to have a sleepover, Marinette,” he said. “I just texted Nathalie and she gave me permission to come too. But if you’re not going to be there, then the sleepover is usel—” He beamed when Marinette interrupted him.

“Oh no, you’re okay,” she muttered. “I mean, it’s okay. You’re perfect. I mean, it’s perfect. Yes, you’re not perfect, that would be weird. But mareding, I mean amazing. If you’ll be there, I’ll marry you, I mean I’ll come with you. Yes. Of course. I’ll be there. Right. Definitely!”

“Cool!” He gave her a soft look and took hold of her hand, causing Marinette’s face to flush deep red. “I’m looking forward to it, then!”

Alya and Nino looked at him with wide eyes, and Nino walked him to his car on purpose to ask him, “Did you really get permission for..”

“Nope,” he admitted. “But I will find a way. I may not get there very early and I may need to leave at the crack of dawn, but I’ll be there, Nino. See you tonight!”

When he closed the door of the sedan and was waiting patiently to return home, Plagg peeked out of the pocket of his shirt to give him a curious stare. “How are you going to pull this off, gamin?”

“I’ll pretend to have a migraine, go to bed and sneak out as Chat Noir.”

Plagg raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Where is my holder? Tell the aliens to give him back to me. He buys me the best of cheese,” he asked. When Adrien gave him a dubious look, Plagg continued, “No, honestly. I’ve never seen you rebelling like this before. I'm proud of you, Adrien!”

Adrien chuckled. “Ha, thank you, buddy. It’s not rebellion. It’s just—”

“What?” interrupted the little furball.

Adrien sighed. “I’m worried for Marinette. I knew that she would agree to the sleepover if I was going to be there.” Plagg raised an eyebrow so Adrien blushed a little and looked away. “Don’t look at me like that. She’s always wanted me to get some freedom and experience things, so I knew she wasn’t going to give up on the opportunity to make me experience a sleepover.”

“Ah, okay,” commented Plagg. “Go figure…”

So that evening Adrien put his plan into action and, for once, everything went smoothly. At exactly nine o’clock he pretended to have a migraine and locked himself in his room, transformed into Chat Noir, turned his shower on in the bathroom (just in case. After all, Nathalie had a master key to all the rooms in the mansion!) and left to reach Nino.

He didn’t get disappointed. They had great fun playing a couple of games before going to bed. They even had a pillow fight, because Adrien had always wanted to do one. Then, nice and early (so that Marinette could get as much rest as possible), Alya set up four sleeping bags in the lounge and they all went to bed.

It didn’t take long for Marinette to fall asleep. He kept a watchful eye on her and saw that she tossed back and forth a few times. She also muttered things to herself a little bit, but in a matter of minutes, she was gone. Adrien smiled and exchanged conspiratory looks with Nino and Alya, happy that their plan had worked. Hopefully, it meant that finally Marinette would get some sleep.

A moment later, though, he raised an eyebrow as Nino and Alya got up from their sleeping bag.

“Where are you going?” he asked, a little surprised.

“Not to be funny, Sunshine, but Nino’s bed is much more comfortable than the floor and we would also like some privacy. So if you don’t mind…” Alya winked at him. “Would you look after Marinette for us?” They hadn’t even waited for him to say yes before walking away.

“Huh, great friends they are,” commented Plagg. “But at least I can get out from your pocket.”

“Be careful, though, Plagg. If they come back, or if Marinette wakes up, I don’t want anyone to see you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay inside the sleeping bag,” retorted Plagg.

It didn’t take long after that for Adrien to fall asleep.

~~End of Flashback~~

But now, the sound of whimpers and muffled cries woke him up. He looked around, wondering if Alya and Nino had come back, but their sleeping bags were empty. There was only one person who could be whimpering, then.

He quickly got up and moved closer to Marinette. Her eyes were closed, but she was tossing and turning, the sweat pumping out of her. She was white as a sheet.

“She must be having a nightmare,” whispered Plagg, floating sleepily out of the sleeping bag and reaching the pocket of his pyjamas top.

“I know,” whispered Adrien. “Should I wake her up?” At Plagg’s agreement, he called out to her a bit louder, grabbing her shoulders and giving her a small shake, “Marinette? Marinette?”

“Nnnnnnnnnh, no, please,” Marinette was muttering. “You're wrong! I'm not Marinette! It's impossible, I never told you anything!”

Adrien’s eyes went wide. What kind of nightmare was she having? Why was she saying that she wasn’t Marinette? “Marinette? Please, it’s me! Wake up!”

“Nnnnnno! Don’t touch me, chaton, please!” she screamed and of course Adrien let her go and sat on his knees, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Chaton?” He sucked his breath in, his heart in his throat. Was she really talking to him or was she still dreaming? Had she figured him out? And if she hadn’t, why on Earth was she having nightmares about Chat Noir?

“It-it’s time to de-evil—” she started to say and then she crouched on herself, as if she was trying to duck a hit.

Plagg moved a little closer to Marinette and stared with massive concern at the girl asleep on the floor. His gaze darted from the sleeping girl to the stunned face of Adrien, and the boy could clearly see that his kwami was worried. No, worried wasn’t the right word. He was terrified.

“Never! LUCKY CHARM!” shouted Marinette and then she erupted into a massive scream that drained all blood from Adrien’s face. His heart skipped several beats as Alya and Nino ran in the room giving Plagg barely enough time to zip back behind Adrien’s head.

“What’s going on, Sunshine?” asked Alya running next to him.

“I-I don’t know. She started talking in her sleep and screaming, I think she’s having a nightmare but I couldn’t wake her up. I don’t know what else to do!”

Alya put a hand to her chin and frowned. "She had mentioned a couple of times that she was having nightmares. I wonder if that’s what has been keeping her awake or making her so tired. I’ll go make some camomile tea, for when she wakes up. You don’t move away from her, Sunshine. Nino, come with me.”

Adrien gave them a grateful look as they walked out of the lounge. “Plagg?” he asked after a moment. The little black kwami came out of his hiding place and gave him a sheepish look. “Don’t look at me like this, Plagg. Have you maybe failed to mention that—”

“OKAY! OKAY! I'LL GIVE YOU MY MIRACULOUS, CHAT NOIR!”

“Plagg!” Adrien put his hands into his hair. By now he knew that it couldn’t be an accident. The gravity of his discovery hit him like a big punch in the stomach. Marinette was Ladybug. There was no other explanation for what he’d just heard. But he didn’t have a chance to panic about it. The realisation hit him that his Lady was having a nightmare. A nightmare about facing… him? Chat Noir? Wanting to steal her Miraculous? Why was his Lady tormented with nightmares where he was an akuma? He looked at her again and saw that she was crying in her sleep. His heart broke. “What’s going on? What is she talking about? I’ve never b—”

“You will always be Chat Noir to me.” The way she said it. The sentiment that vibrated in each and every word. Tears were starting to worm their way out of the corner of Adrien’s eyes as he grabbed Marinette’s shoulders firmly and gave her a big, massive shake.

“BUGINETTE! Can you hear me? Please wake up! Wake up please!” He hugged her and couldn’t stop sobbing. “Please, My Lady. Please wake up…”

As he kept hugging her and gently patting her hair with his hands, he felt her body relaxing before tensing again. Until suddenly, she started hugging him back.

“Chaton?” she whispered. “Is that you?”

He broke the hug and looked her in the eye. He saw the surprise in her gaze and how wide her eyes and how pale her face had become. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand.

“It’s me, yes. Hi,” he said tentatively and waved nervously.

She sucked her breath in and gasped loudly. “I must still be dreaming. Yes, that’s it. I’m still asleep. Now I’m going to pinch my hand and I will wake up still laying in my sleeping bag and you will be sleeping too and nothing will have happened and I will just think of how stupid I have been in having yet another silly nightmare with Chat Blanc and… oh my God, usually I just see what had happened in the future again, not wake up with Adrien hugging me and claiming to be Chat Noir; it must be because I’m at this sleepover, and he’s sleeping in the same room as me, and I must have mixed things up and—”

As she was saying all that avalanche of words, Alya and Nino came back inside the lounge, carrying four mugs of piping hot herbal tea. Alya sat down with her legs crossed next to Adrien and cautiously gave the mug she held in her right hand to Marinette.

“What are you rambling about, girl? Here, have some camomile, it helps against nightmares.”

They sat down in silence. Nino gave Adrien another mug full of piping hot liquid.

Marinette’s gaze was literally glued into Adrien’s, her face as white as a sheet. She absentmindedly took a sip and winced, forgetting just how hot camomile could get. She started blowing gently on the liquid, but her eyes never lost sight of him.

“Sorry, Alya, I was having a nightmare,” she said eventually. “That’s why I didn’t want to come to the sleepover. I… I’ve been having nightmares for some time now.”

“What kind of nightmares, girl? I didn’t understand what you were saying, but you were screaming bloody murder a moment ago. Luckily, Chris is at my house with the twins, or we would have had three overtired children to deal with by now.”

Marinette moved her gaze briefly and met Alya’s worried brown eyes. “Sorry, Alya. My nightmares are nothing special, something about me failing my exams and my commissions. Nothing to worry about.”

Adrien glared at her. He knew that she had to lie, but he still didn’t like it when she lied that blatantly. “Are these nightmares the reason why you’re so tired?” he asked, sniffling a little. He couldn’t stop the mad pounding of his heart.

“Ah, no, don’t worry. I’ve just worn myself out too much recently, that’s all.” She made a dismissive gesture and smiled nervously. Right. As if he bought that. He and his Lady would need to have quite a long chat, as soon as—

Marinette put the cup back down on the ground, empty. “Thank you for the camomile, Alya. I feel better now. Shall we go back to sleep?”

Alya yawned and picked up the mug from the ground, standing up in a gracious gesture. “Are you sure you will be okay?”

“Yes I will, don’t worry. You and Nino go back to bed.” She smiled when Alya gave her a sheepish look. Marinette eyed her amusedly and continued, “Did you think I hadn’t realised you were gone?” She chuckled a little and a light blush dusted her cheeks. “You two go back to doing whatever you were doing. Don’t worry about me; Adrien’s here.”

Adrien saw clearly how Marinette winced when Alya’s eyes grew wide. To what must have been her great scorn, rather than going away as she had been asked to, Alya moved closer to Marinette. She sat back down crossed legged next to her and put a hand on her forehead. “Okay, where have you put my Marinette? Give her back, please.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Marinette, plucking Alya’s hand from her forehead and moving it back to her friend’s lap.

Alya folded her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. “Do you need to ask? We come back in the room and find you in Adrien’s arms muttering nonsensical stuff that we couldn’t even understand,” said Alya as Adrien took a big sigh of relief that neither of their friends had truly heard the secrets spilling out of Marinette's nightmare. “Then you don’t stutter at all in his presence and you dismiss us saying that you’re okay because you’re with him? Tell the aliens that I want my girl back. Please.”

Marinette blushed deep red, lowering her gaze to the floor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m tired and want to go back to sleep. So if you don’t mind, Alya…”

Alya sighed. “Okay, okay, I got the message.” She got up again and gave her a look full of mischief. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Good luck!” Then she grabbed Nino by the arm and walked straight out, turning the light off.

They waited for a few minutes in the darkness, still like salt statues, listening carefully to ensure that Alya and Nino were really gone. After a few minutes of waiting, Adrien stood up and went to the door. He put an ear to the door and then looked at Marinette with an annoyed frown on his face. He slammed the door open and Alya and Nino both fell on the ground.

“Ouch, what was that for, Sunshine?” complained Alya.

Adrie sighed. “I thought Marinette told you to go to bed.”

Alya smiled nervously. “Uh, yes, we were just…”

“Picking something from the floor,” muttered Nino at the same time as Adrien said, “...spying on us. Do you think we don’t know your ways, Alya?”

Alya looked at both her friends sheepishly. “I know, sorry. We’ll go to bed now.”

“You’d better, Alya, I’m tired!” said Marinette with an exaggerated yawn. Alya and Nino waved goodnight and Adrien closed the door. He stayed near the door for a few minutes, tapping his foot on the floor nervously. Then he opened the door again. This time everything was clear. He closed the door and sighed.

He turned around and, without looking at Marinette in the eye, went back in front of her and sat down, legs crossed. His fingers started fidgeting with the silver ring on his right ring finger, bringing Marinette’s attention to it. He started slipping it off his finger, but gasped when Marinette grabbed his hand and stopped his gesture, wrapping his hands with hers firmly.

“Don’t you dare,” she commanded. He gulped, the grip that had already held his throat since he’d discovered the truth became even more painful. He breathed heavily, his hands falling listlessly on his lap.

“Who’s Chat Blanc?” he eventually asked. “Is he the reason why you’re so tired?”

Marinette sighed. She started fiddling with her own fingers now and looking at her hands with great interest. “Chat Blanc is… you. In another timeline you were somehow akumatised. I would rather not talk about it, minou, it’s not a nice memory of mine.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered and grabbed her hand, causing her to give a startled gasp. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly. Marinette’s face lit like a lightbulb and she gave him the expression he had been so used to seeing on her face up to then, that sort of grimace between a smile and a cringe that she reserved only for him. “I wish I could do something to help. I don’t even remember having been akumatised in the first place. When did th—,” he started, but then he gasped and put a hand on his mouth, his cheeks dusting slightly with pink. “Uh, sorry M’lady, you didn’t want to talk about it.”

Tikki flew between them and started floating right in front of Marinette’s face. “Although maybe you should, Marinette.” Marinette hugged herself and started rocking back and forth. Her eyes filled with tears as she sniffled loudly and shook her head in denial. Tikki sighed. “Really, Marinette, you’ve been having horrible nightmares for months. You can’t get it out of your head. Discussing it with him could—”

“NO!” said Marinette louder. “I’m so useless, Tikki. I had promised to myself to never let him know about it at all, and here I am, revealing myself to him because of a nightmare about his akumatised self that he doesn’t know anything about. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to him, to taunt him with a future that doesn’t exist. He doesn’t deserve it!”

“But talking about it can help you, Marinette. Adrien is your friend, he’s been worried for you. Alya and Nino have been worried for you. You know that this is the reason why Alya organised this sleepover. You haven’t slept more than an hour or two per night for months. You keep burning the candle at both ends. You’re taking on a burden as massive as the memory of this timeline, and the nightmares that came from it, all on your shoulders without asking for any help. It’s not healthy.”

“B-but I don’t want to burden him with it, he’s got enough in his plate already!”

Adrien cleared his throat causing both Marinette and Tikki to turn towards him. “‘He’ has a name, Marinette, and ‘he’ would love to support you and help you, you know? Me and you against the world, that’s how it’s always been, right, Buginette? Why do you never trust me with anything?”

Marinette paled, giving him a terrified look that broke his heart a little. “So-sorry, I do trust you, Adrien. I trust you with my life on a daily basis.”

“Only because I force you to, by putting myself between you and the danger. But you’ve never trusted me with anything else.” He pouted.

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You’re sure of that?” She gave him a tongue-in-cheek look and folded her arms on her chest. He gulped and his gaze fell.

“Uh, I know what you mean. The New York incident. You know who I am now; you know that I couldn’t not go. And you were the one to make it happen for me. I did try to ask my father if I could stay, but he had already packed my bags.” He saw her raising an eyebrow at him and pouted again.

“It’s not the fact that you went on the trip that disappointed me, Adrien, but the fact that you never told me anything.”

He blushed and was going to retort something. But then, he saw the disapproving glare that Tikki was addressing to Marinette and he gasped, realising what she was doing. “Don’t change the subject, Marinette. You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you? I have already apologised for not having told you anything when we went to New York. You promised me after that incident that you would try to trust me more. Why are you breaking your promise, Buginette?”

Marinette’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m not breaking my promise!”

“You are! You’re not letting me help you. I can see that you’re hurting, Marinette. I had been feeling that there was something wrong for weeks, and now I feel as if I’m only seeing the tip of the iceberg of what’s troubling you. It must have been a really traumatic experience. I want to help you. I’m your partner, right? You said so many times that we’re equals?” He put a hand on her chin and forced her to look up. Her face gained a deep shade of crimson when bluebell eyes met forest green.

“You are my equal, chaton, and I do trust you. It’s just… just…” She cupped her hands on her face and started sobbing loudly. He reacted on instinct and moved closer, wrapping her up in a tight embrace. He felt Marinette tensing for a moment under his touch, but immediately after, she relaxed and hugged him back. She cried for a very long time, her muffled sobs and his tentative ‘shhhh’ the only sounds that could be heard in the silence of the lounge.

“It happened three months ago,” she eventually whispered. “The day of your fifth name day celebration, remember?” He nodded quietly. “Bunnyx came to me a little after I left your room and brought me to this future where the world had been destroyed. You had even Cataclysmed the moon. The entire city was underwater and you were sitting atop Montparnasse tower, alone. You were completely white, including your hair, and had these icy blue eyes that shone with madness. You attacked me and tried to get my Miracu—”

He gasped loudly and broke the hug, looking at her with his eyes wide. “I attacked you? I would never attack you!”

“You were an akuma, Adrien. You had destroyed the world. You had… you had Cataclysmed Hawkmoth. And me. I found what I thought were the statues of myself and Hawkmoth underwater and when I touched them they shred into powder. You said it had been an accident.”

Adrien started breathing hard. “This doesn’t make any sense! Why would I Cataclysm Hawkmoth and you? I thought Hawkmoth gave orders to the akumas, they’re his champions. How can an akuma possibly kill him?” He put his hands into his hair. “No, no, no! I would never Cataclysm you, Buginette. Never. After what I did to Aeon,” he started, but Plagg appeared from his hiding spot and flew to his face.

“It’s happened once in history already where an akuma created by the Butterfly holder fought back. Hawkmoth no doubt severely underestimated the power of the Black Cat Miraculous, gamin.”

“Hi, Plagg,” said Marinette when the little God of Destruction finished speaking.

“Hi, Pigtails. Where has Sugarcube g—?” Plagg looked around, but he didn’t manage to finish what he was saying, because something red zipped to him and wrapped him in a hug.

“I’m here, Stinkysock.” She let go of him after a few moments and looked at Adrien. “You’re right in what you’re saying, Adrien. She’s been terribly traumatised. She can hardly sleep at night.”

Adrien’s worried gaze went from Tikki’s concerned eyes to his maskless partner. “You faced hundreds of Akumas, Marinette. Why was I any—”

“You really need to ask?” she interrupted him. She glared, her eyes full of tears that she wiped angrily with the back of her hand. “It was you. The other akumas don’t matter to me, chaton. You do. You mean the world to me.”

‘You will always be Chat Noir to me,’ he remembered her saying just before she woke up. His heart started pounding in his chest again.

“Every time I close my eyes I see those icy blue orbs staring coldly at me. You were calling me with my name, so you knew who I was. And you told me that our love had destroyed the world.

His face felt suddenly very hot as his heart took residence in his throat. “Our… love?” he said in a choked whisper.

“You told me that your heart was broken, that because I didn’t love you anymore then you would destroy yourself, me, our memories, everything. You tried hitting me with a really powerful Cataclysm that you were throwing at me like a blast of energy from your hands. That’s usually when I wake up, but I think this time I reached the end, or nearly. I only woke up because you hugged and then shook me.”

Adrien’s brain had switched off hearing Marinette say ‘I didn’t love you anymore’. He didn’t hear anything else. “You love me?” he asked out of the blue. Marinette’s face turned crimson.

“Uuuuh… you see, the b-boy I was telling you about when we fought Glaciator?” He nodded. “That b-boy was you. Adrien-you. I fell in love with you when you gave me your umbrella.” She sniffled. “A-and to be honest, recently the line between Chat Noir being my partner and me having feelings towards him had become so thin that I couldn’t see it anymore. I was terrified to love my minou because of what I had seen in the future but… I couldn’t stop myself. I have been so confused since we came back from New York, chaton. I still loved Adrien, my heart was doing somersaults every time I caught you looking at me in class, but I couldn’t help being fond of my partner. Not after having nearly lost him. I tried to forget you both by dating Luka and trying to reciprocate his feelings, but it was going nowhere. We broke up a couple of weeks ago.”

Adrien pinned his elbows on his thighs, passing both his hands in his hair. He was trying very hard to ignore the sudden jolt of happiness that ran through his very being the second she said that she was, in fact, in love with him. All of him. She loved Chat Noir-him and Adrien-him. And she had just recently broken up with Luka, so she was available. How had he managed to hit the jackpot so perfectly? His heart was fluttering on its own little spot between cloud nine and ten, but the matter at bait now was that his Lady had been having nightmares. About him. The akuma version of him he didn’t even know that existed. And those nightmares had been taunting her sleep and exhausting her. He could squeeze her into his arms and kiss her senseless later.

“This is so messed up! So in that universe we were together and you broke up with me. I freaked out and got akumatised,” he said.

“Essentially, yes, I think.” She sighed. “I don’t know what happened, but it must have left you devastated.”

He grabbed her hand and forced her to look at him in the eye moving her chin towards him with the other hand. “You left me. That’s what happened. My heart broke.” He said that with such determination that Marinette couldn’t dismiss it. “I can relate with myself on that.”

It made total sense. Absolute and total sense. Yes, the fact that she left him broke his…

Hang on a second. Marinette paled as her eyes widened. “Y-your heart b-broke? Because I left you?”

“Aha. That’s what akuma-me told you, right? You know that I love you, My Lady. My heart breaks a little every time that you reject me. I don’t know if I could take you breaking up with me.”

Marinette’s heart went into her ears. Then, what he said registered in her brain and she noted that he had said, ‘My Lady.’ She deflated and slumped her shoulders.

“Right. Yes, chaton. I know you love your Lady.”

What happened? Adrien frowned as he scrutinised Marinette’s pout. Was she disappointed that he loved her? But she had said that she loved him too. What was the issue? He had felt the tension building within her and she had looked happy for a fraction of a second and then, out of the blue, her mood had changed. He saw her eyes filling with tears and his heart sank. What had he done wrong? Why was she upset? He kept going through what she had said, and what he had said, trying to find a clue, a reason why her mood had changed so much. Then, it suddenly struck him.

“Oh no… no no no no no, Marinette. You’re Ladybug. You’re the one I love.”

“I know you love Ladybug, Adrien. Don’t dig the blade deeper, please.” Her spiteful tone was the last clue he needed.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake. “Marinette, how many times did I tell you how amazing and great you are? How many times I praised you the same way Chat Noir praises Ladybug? God, I also called you my Everyday Ladybug once! You’re Ladybug, Marinette. Ladybug is you. You’re not a different entity from her, you’re her. Now it’s so clear that I really don’t understand how I didn’t see it before!” Her gaze was still looking down, the sparkle in her eyes completely absent.

“Please,” she muttered. “I’ve always been ‘just a friend’ until you discovered I’m Ladybug.”

His heart sank. His gaze started darting around, not knowing where to focus. He tried to say something at least four times, but every time he opened his mouth he changed his mind about what he wanted to say. Eventually, he met Plagg’s electric green eyes. The black kwami raised an eyebrow and folded his paws over his little chest. Adrien blushed and looked away. He knew what he had to do. He took a big breath and looked at her.

“You have never been just a friend for me, Marinette.” He felt his face getting really hot, but he knew that he had to say it. The time had come for him to tell the truth. He gulped. “Plagg can confirm what I say. He’s always been frustrated with me because I didn’t get it, and when I got it, it was too late and you had started dating Luka.”

He cringed at the sound of his own voice, so hoarse that he could hardly recognise it himself. “Rejection stings. Ladybug rejected Chat Noir’s advances so many times that it bruised my heart. I-I didn’t want to be rejected again, and by you, and ruin our friendship. Our friendship is so important to me; you’re my first friend. You’re so precious to me, Marinette.” He looked at her briefly; she stared back with glassy eyes, a big frown on her beautifully flushed face. “So I kept my mouth shut. But lately it has been getting more and more difficult to keep away from you, especially after New York. I was so happy when we had that dance under the moonlight. Somehow I felt that I still had a chance. But then,” his voice cracked, “when you didn’t stop me from leaving, I got heartbroken. I felt that both girls I loved had abandoned me.”

She gasped loudly. He fell silent for a long time, trying to fight the tears that were prickling at the corner of his eyes and the sobs that were itching to pour out of his clenched throat. “Little did I kn—” he tried to continue, but he had to stop. He couldn’t see anything any more because of the tears that were falling off his eyes. His throat had completely shut and didn’t allow his voice to come out. He wiped his eyes with the back of his right hand as his bottom lip quivered badly and the sobs he had been trying to hold came out, loud and clear. He panicked and his gaze darted around, the shapes of his surroundings dancing in front of him following the flow of his tears. When his green eyes met her bluebell ones, he saw that she was crying too. As soon as their gazes met, Marinette jumped on him and wrapped him in a massive hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!” she cried as she hugged him, and he hugged her back, desperately, as if he was being billowed away by a tornado and she was his only handhold. “I was shocked because Chat Noir—uh, you—had given up your Miraculous and I couldn’t think straight. By the time I gathered my thoughts again, your car had started to go. I ran after you for ages, Adrien, I picked up a bike lying on the tarmac and I followed your car screaming at you to stop. But the rain had made the ground slippery and I fell. And you were gone. That was the worst moment of my life! I had lost the two boys I loved the most in the entire world.” Now her voice was hoarse and cracking too. “I’m so sorry, chaton. I messed up so much!”

They hugged for a long time, happily lulling each other in the warmth and sensations that the close proximity to the other gave. Adrien’s hand was patting Marinette’s hair gently, the delicate smell of coconut (probably her shampoo) intoxicating his senses. He had to physically prevent himself from sniffing her neck. She smelled of vanilla and baked goods, maybe a hint of wildflower. It was absolutely divine. As he passed his fingers through her hair, he undid her pigtails and happily plunged his fingers in the soft silkiness of her corvine strands. The rhythmic sound of her breathing was grounding him, regulating him and helping him calm down.

“Can I kiss you?” he eventually asked. He felt her tensing at the question and regretted having asked. Maybe it was too early for her? Maybe she wanted more time to get used to the idea? “I-if you don’t want, it’s okay, you don’t have to.”

She broke the hug and looked at him, giving him such a soft look that his insides melted as a tingle running through his whole spine. But when she moved quickly and removed all gaps, meeting his lips with hers, the tingle was renewed in its strength. The butterflies (the right kind of butterflies) took residence in his stomach as he deepened the kiss. He felt his heart explode from the surge of electricity that ran through his core when Marinette, after a little gasp, allowed him to. Her hands moved to his hair, and Adrien learned that he really liked Marinette’s hands combing through his bangs.

Then, as suddenly as their lips had met, they had to break the kiss to breathe. They looked at each other, panting hard. Adrien touched his forehead tenderly with Marinette’s and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“I love you, chaton,” Marinette whispered in his ear, causing him to shiver. He held her stronger and placed a soft kiss on her temple.

“I love you too, Marinette.” He stroked her hair gently some more. “Can I sleep next to you? I promise I will be a gentleman. I-i just want to feel you next to me.”

Marinette nodded and they laid down on Mariette’s sleeping bag, still wrapped around each other. Marinette fell asleep almost instantly, her head resting happily on his chest, one of her ears pressed against his ribcage right next to his heart. He placed another soft kiss on her hair and started feeling his eyes closing from the exhaustion.

And that was how Alya found them, a few hours later. She had entered the lounge to wake Adrien up and tell him it was time for him to go back home, if he didn’t want to get caught. Alya erupted into a big, huge, massive grin and tiptoed her way back to Nino’s bedroom to grab her phone. She beckoned for Nino to follow her and they both sighed, looking tenderly at the two lovebirds fast asleep.

“I knew that my little birdie would leave his nest eventually,” whispered Nino with a big smile on his face.

Alya beamed at him. “I’m nearly sorry to wake him up,” she whispered back. Nino gave her a curt look and she sighed. “I know, I know, he risked a lot to come here and we don’t want to blow his cover. But first,” she said and messed with her phone, putting the camera on and taking a picture, “There. For the wedding album!”

Then, she gave Adrien a big shake and was thankful that she caught his surprised blushing face as soon as he opened his eyes.

‘That's another good one for the album,’ she thought, taking one last shot when Marinette also opened her eyes at Adrien's surprised gasp and her face became the colour of Ladybug’s suit.

Those two. Honestly, they'd never learn.

Fin

Author’s note

There you go. A bit later than I wanted to, but here’s the second story for that challenge. Which sadly ended before I finished the story, but never mind, I post it anyway ^-^

Hope you liked this story. Please feel free to drop any compliments, screams, insults, kisses… incoherent rambling… anything you want in the comments and hit send. I love reading your feedback, please be nice with this poor sleep deprived soul who writes at 3 am for tort—, I mean to delight you with these loads of rub—, er, these beautiful stories of mine. *Coughs*. Good news is (oh well, good… depending from the point of view), I have more plans in my head, so I’ll tort—, I mean I’ll delight you with some more very, very soon.

Aren’t you happy? :D

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous adrien #miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #chatnoir #adrienette #adrienagreste #adrinette #adrien and marinette #marinette dupain cheng #chat blanc #marinette needs a hug #identity reveal #ladybug reveal #chat noir reveal

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squidmayo · 3 years

Note

Solas, Farkas, and Amayian :P

nooooooooooooo

uhhhhhh hmmmmmm nnnnnnnnnh

fuck: Amayian

marry: Solas

kill: farkas

fvsjfhskfjeowkwbdof this was a hard choice ngl

#i cabt kill amayian #and i cant kill solas #so that must mean farkas has to go #even if i love him #sad honks #ask game

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i-can-dig-up-elvis · 6 years

Photo

Nnnnnnnnnh an edgy pic of meself I took while watching the last ep of Happy!

#ugly mcfuckin bastard y’all #enjoy #the ending was aight #can’t wait for the next season tho #my face

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cutiecubie · 3 years

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I don't have my classes on and I need to get up for class but I don't want to. I got gym nnnnnnnnnh

#Holly's hissing

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gus-dix · 7 years

Photo

Have some character design I still need to work on! They all live in the same universe (and story)

Serra's parent’s abandoned her when she was 4 and she was then adopted by a few librarians. She reads a lot and know so much, but because she’s scared of people and new things she never leave the library/trust anyone. Troll in the nice dress isn’t named yet and I already worked on her redesign. She will still be wearing nice clothes but more practical for her job. She’s a hunter with a cheerful personality!

Last two are different trolls kinds who live in the same forest. Their tribes(?) don’t like each other but they accidentally became friends. They’re the same age but small one is almost an adult (regarding their species) while tall one still has a long way to go! They’ll become very tall hairy and scary in the future.

More random info if you click on the pics!

#my art #original #original character #Character Design #fantasy #fantasy creature #fantastic creature #monsters #troll #trolls #serra is human by the way #ALSO IS IT OBVIOUS #what my fav colors are #i used so much green and yellow without paying attention

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iamthechocobabe · 7 years

Text

A True Nightmare

Again, this is not an Ardyn love story. If that’s what you’re looking for, you might want to go somewhere else.

For the record, there’s NOT going to be anything trigger worthy in this story-just kinda wanted to throw that out there.

Tagging the Senpais: @roses-and-oceans @bespectacled-girl @cupnoodle-queen @gladiolus-mamacitia @nifwrites @themissimmortal

A True Nightmare An Ardyn Soulmate AU This is NOT an Ardyn love story

~Chapter 2~ SFW Word Count: 2,191

A cold chill ran through the air just as the four were beginning to board the train, making Mallory shiver intensely and wish grateful she'd brought her winter coat. Though apparently she was the only one who felt the sudden dip in temperature, as no one else seemed all too bothered by the sudden cool air. But there was something else...it was almost as if someone was watching her. Mallory had that sense where someone...or something...was watching her every move and she instinctively looked around to see if there was someone undesirable around. Mallory had been trained to always follow her instincts and they were most, if not always, right.

"That's her?" Gladiolus, apparently the prince's bodyguard, pointed at Mallory as he spoke to Aranea while final preparations were made. "She's the...you said she was an assassin? She's the one who knows how to get into Gralea?"

Mallory tried to ignore their comments as she often did with people who were shocked of her true employment-she knew she wasn't what people expected when they pointed at her and said 'assassin', but she was a lot tougher than she looked, which Aranea felt compelled to point out.

"Don't let the pink fool you," Aranea snickered, referring to Mallory's hot pink tank top. "She's not called the Viper for nothing,"

"I hate that nickname," Mallory called to them, still observing the crowd gathered by the train stop. "It's cliched,"

"I don't pick the names, honey," The snideness in Aranea's voice always made Mallory want to go up and smack her.

"And the teen is...?" Noctis, the prince, pointed at Ari, still sitting in the grass and playing with some dirt.

"That's Ari," Spinning around, Mallory marched up to Noctis when Ari was mentioned and sent her withering glare of emerald eyes towards him, who seemed more confused then intimidated. "And you don't talk about her-you don't even look at her, or you answer to me. Got it?"

When there was nothing but silence, Mallory leaned forward until her nose was practically touching the Prince's own nose. "Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am?" Noctis was still clearly confused, but Mallory ignored it and went back to observing the crowd.

Someone was watching-she could feel it. Someone...who? The chancellor of the Empire? Mallory had only heard about him and seen his picture in the paper a few times, she'd never met him-Aranea was more involved with him than anything, Mallory was only called in when someone had a job that needed more stealth-Aranea was more 'in your face'.

The small blink of a yellow light caught the corner of Mallory's eye-up towards the right of the train station, under some awnings, two or three security cameras were set up and poised to aim around the crowd. They were clearly originally intended to keep an eye on the train station, but now it seemed to be used as a weapon of spying. Mallory wasn't about to put up with it.

Within a matter of seconds, a switchblade that Mallory kept in the back pocket of her skinny jeans was out and swung at the tangle of cords under the awning, severing the cords right where they needed to be severed and causing the blinking light to go dark. Noises in the crowd proved that people were now starting to grow weary of Mallory, ducking out of her way as she went and retrieved the knife before returning back to Aranea, who stared at the security cameras thoughtfully.

"Forgot about those damn things..." she mumbled, watching Mallory press the button for the switchblade to go back into its handle and placing the weapon back where it belonged.

"They probably know we're on our way," Mallory mentioned to the three boys. "So, we're going to have to move fast-Aranea, where are we with the engineers?"

"Biggs and Wedge-right over there," Aranea pointed to a pair of gentlemen in uniform drinking coffee.

"Alrighty then..." Mallory took the first look at the three boys she was going to assist in this mission-the prince was everything she had seen in the papers and pictures and the bodyguard seemed like he could handle himself, but the last one... "No offense, but are you sure-" The question about the one who was apparently blind lingered on Mallory's lips.

"Ignis goes where we go, it seems," The bodyguard, Gladio, mumbled with discontent. He clearly didn't agree that Ignis should join them, but Mallory didn't say anything. She knew what it was like to have people think you were incapable because of a disability.

Loud laughter in the air distracted everyone-Ari was giggling at an ant hill she had found in the grass as she laid down on her stomach, observing the tiny creatures as they crawled back to their hidey hole.

"Go ahead and hop on," Mallory told the three as she headed back to say final goodbyes to Ari. "I'll be there in a few minutes,"

Nodding, the three talked to Aranea about where exactly they were going for the crystal as Mallory approached Ari, whose olive toned fingers were now a dark brown to the dirt all over her fingers from trying to pry the ant hill a part.

"Ari? Are you listening?" Bending down on her haunches, Mallory dropped Ari's pink and grey backpack by Ari's stretched out legs while talking to her younger sister.

"Hnh," Ari continued to dig her fingers into the dirt, but grunted again to show she was listening, so Mallory continued.

"Remember what I was talking about in the car? I have to leave for awhile-Aranea's going to take care of you until I get back, okay?"

"Nn-NNNNNNNNNH," Ari didn't make Mallory's eye contact, but she started to shake her head vehemently, a few of the short strands of copper brown hair falling into her dark brown eyes.

"I know you don't like Aranea," Mallory said softly. "But you'll be safe-she'll protect you. I'll only be gone for a few days-you can handle that, can't you?"

There was no response, but Mallory took it as a sign of acceptance-if Ari really wasn't okay with it, she'd be screaming her head off.

"I told you not to play in the dirt," Mallory noticed the dirt on her hands and grabbed hand sanitizer out of the large black backpack she had brought with her. Seeing the backpack and Ari's own bright pink and grey backpack filled Mallory with relief once again.

Relief of the memory, how a few hours ago Aranea had called her and informed Mallory that the Empire was attacking Tenebrae and to out of the apartment and get to the train station. Mallory didn't expect that Aranea was the one over the relief effort there, but to each their own-Mallory could only assume that she was pissed at the Empire for this shitty stunt and for killing the Oracle. Aranea was already on thin ice with them after the attack on Insomnia, but this seemed to end all relations with them.

Which was just as fine, the Empire fucking sucked and Mallory never hesitated to tell Aranea that.

"HNH. HNH. AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH," Ari's screams began to make everyone at the train station tense as she backed away and started to flail her arms and Mallory knew that people would start to assume that Ari was insane.

"Hey-HEY. Easy, alright?" Mallory put away the hand sanitizer, knowing it was the cold shock of the clear liquid that had sent Ari over the edge. Mallory cursed herself for forgetting to warm it thoroughly in her hands before putting the liquid on Ari-she was already on edge from the short days, having to evacuate so quickly, and having Mallory leave-Mallory knew that this was just another thing to set Ari over the edge.

By the train, Noctis and the rest of his group observed in interest as Mallory waited patiently for Ari to settle down and for her screams to subside, though Ari still panted loudly in an extreme panic. They, and everyone else, still observed as Mallory gently put her hands on Ari's shoulders and led her to a park bench and watched as Mallory used a pink and grey backpack and helped Ari lie down.

"That's...her sister?" Gladio asked Aranea. "What's wrong with her?"

Knowing it wasn't her condition to tell, Aranea simply said "Ari's different,"

Ardyn tried to control his breathing after the cameras went dark, even though he had no real need to, not anymore. He hadn't needed to breathe in over a thousand years, but it was a force of habit-some small part of his remaining humanity he wanted to hold onto.

Deep down, Ardyn knew it wasn't Aryelle who glared at the security cameras before tossing her knife to sever the power cords; he never did see her again after their final parting in the throne room, Ardyn was never able to get close enough to see those beautiful green eyes widen in fear at Ardyn's prescence. But Aryelle was mortal-she had died like everyone else he had known back then did.

Or did she? Ardyn pulled up the footage from the archives and paused the video right as Aryelle-or whoever she was-was pulling the knife from her back pocket, her beautiful green eyes staring daggers into the security cameras.

No, she couldn't be Aryelle, at least not the one he remembered. Aryelle never glared.

Ardyn clicked the keyboard, zooming in on the footage to observe the woman's wrists and check his knowledge and see if for certain she was somehow Aryelle. From this angle, he couldn't tell and he cursed himself for having done away with most of his 'allies' (if he could call him that) long ago...

There was only one left...one he'd frankly lacked the energy to deal away with.

Five minutes after pushing a button, Verstael Besithia walked in through the door. Verstael had no real way of knowing, no real way to know how Ardyn had already done away with everyone, including the Emperor himself. By now, Ardyn only had Besithia see what Ardyn wanted him to see, going back and forth between what duties he had as if in a daze.

He was now in for a cruel awakening-but not before making himself useful first.

"Who is she?" Ardyn pointed at the screen containing Aryelle's-no, he shouldn't call her that-face.

"Friend of yours?" The dazed look on Verstael's never faded as he typed onto the keyboard, plugging the image of the woman's face into an official Niflheim archive. A picture of the same girl showed in a different monitor, though she wasn't wearing a grey beanie and only showed her from the shoulders up along with a scroll of text and Ardyn browsed through the information of the girl.

Mallory Moon-born and raised in Tenebrae. Parents had been reported missing when she was eighteen, forcing her to raise her mentally disabled sister on her own. Was recruited by the Impirial army as a mercenary before taking her sister and was reported M.I.A. after a failed mission.

Ignoring the rest, Ardyn controlled his breathing once again at the information of her visual aesthetics. Hair color, black; Eyes, green; Height, 5'7.

Everything pointed to Aryelle-her name was different, her hair was shorter and cut more modernly, but her physical appearance was the same. She looked so much like her that it might have sent chills down Ardyn's back.

Might have.

But just as Ardyn was about to click to turn the monitor off and mull over this information, a little star caught his eye.

A star-his star. Mirrored, on the left side, only on her shoulder. The memory of Aryelle's mark was burned into Ardyn, he could easily remember and visualize the mark to know it was the exact same as the girl's, just on her shoulder instead of on her wrist.

She wasn't Aryelle...but perhaps she was somehow reborn?

"I remember her-she was hired for one of our-" Ardyn had forgotten that Besithia was in the room as the old man rattled on about something Ardyn really didn't care about.

Sighing, Ardyn's face in the black monitors lacking any emotion, Ardyn knew Besithia was already far gone from weeks of exposure to the Starscourge. All he needed was a little push, and a little bit of daemonic essence attaching itself to the back Besithia's neck was all it took. Ardyn had told them how to fuse the plague into humans, causing them their almost invincible army-

Ardyn never told them there was no way to reverse the process.

"Well, thank you for your assistance," Ardyn stood up, ignoring the now writhing older man as he panicked and rolled around on the floor with cries of fear filling the room. "But it seems I have an additional guest to prepare for,"

Walking out the door, Ardyn was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't hear Besithia now screaming in pain as his new daemon form began to take shape. Not that it mattered, though.

Ardyn did have a new guest-and he would finally get his chance, finally fulfill his thousand year old promise.

He would show them all his redemption.

#ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #ardyn izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #soulmate au #he's hard not to write as a creeper #because ardyn is a creeper #lets all face facts #he's the frollo of final fantasy xv

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