#go steris!
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Thoughts on Mistborn: Shadows of Self
Shadows of Self is incredibly great, heartbreaking, and thought-provoking!
I'm hurt and confused. And I'm not sure how to feel, and I love it for that. Shadows of Self is completely different than its preceding book. It is different from even the Mistborn trilogy. There are themes of the stagnation of political systems, religious tension, the ethics and morals of what line God should, could, might have on interfering with the lives of his creations. After finishing off the book, I genuinely had no idea what to think about Harmony, Trell's puppeteering, Bleeder's campaign, or the state of Elendel.
Something that annoyed me about Era 2's books off the bat was the noble system. There's no state sponsored murder or rape, and the nobles are more like businessmen. But it still felt like nothing changed over the last 340 years. I kept thinking... wow, this is what Kelsier died for?! This is what Vin and Elend fought to protect?! I started off hating everyone - Harmony, the Senate, constables, Wax, even Spook - for not erasing the noble system. But while reading the book I kept thinking about Sazed's limitations due to wielding the Shard of Harmony, his stance on free will, his subtle maneuvering of Wax and Marasi... and kept thinking about real life. I came to the realization that being in the role of God comes with a lot of nuance on guiding mortals. I connected the stagnation of Elendel back to the history of the US... how even though centuries has passed, many abhorrent systems are masked by seemingly more human systems. Governments are still being controlled by nobles and aristocrats, just in a different flavor. Policing has so many issues it could take 1000 years to solve.
Even after finishing the book, I still think the noble system should've been completely erased. But now I'm thinking if that would've fundamentally changed things. The US doesn't have monarchs, nobles, slave plantations, or aristocrats. But corporations, billionaires, politicians, and the upper class get away with a lot, they find ways to obtain power and avoid accountability. Would Harmony be right if he gave the divine mandate of "I DECREE NO NOBLES FOR ALL OF TIME!" At that point is free will a choice?
I started off blaming Harmony for not making a democratic world with no nobles. Ended off having… weird feelings about him. Like... MeLann brings up a great point about the kandra impersonating witnesses to testify against people. If Harmony allowed that, that could be a dangerous precedent.
But then there's Bleeder. Bleeder is easily my favorite antagonist in the series. She's incredibly competent, her body horror is gruesome horrific, and her climax is depressingly tragic. May she rest in the Beyond. Poor Wax. This is the thing that has me feeling weird about Harmony. This hurts cuz of Sazed. Fuck Sazed. Fuck Sazed. I knew Harmony would’ve become a Chessmaster, but not like this. Sazed isn’t supposed to manipulate people. Sazed isn’t supposed to cause trauma to people 😭😢💔💔
But Sazed is, unfortunately, the Hero of Ages. Harmony seems to be foreseeing a great disaster caused by Trell. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to thread towards a future possibility that will save Scadrial from this disaster. He must think about the future of the entire world. It hurts that he moved Wax this way, but would there really have been any difference if he left Wax completely alone? The Set - puppets of a Shard of Adonalsium - would've subtly caused turmoil on Elendel. What if he told Wax he was hunting Lessie? TenSoon said it himself. Harmony saw the future, saw that Wax wouldn't go through with it. Bleeder - another puppet of a Shard - would've succeeded in her goals. Sure he could've maneuvered someone else, but it opens a new can of worms!
I love the hints of Trell being a far scarier antagonist than it appears. I love the advancements and possibilities of Hemalurgy Trell is responsible for. Shadows of Self does a far better job than The Hero of Ages presenting gray morality in the motives and plans of gods. It also does a far better job at presenting a smart and clever antagonistic deity. I think with the conflict between Ruin and Preservation, Sanderson wrote many things that made Ruin appear too much like "the bad guy." He can say Preservation has a dark side, but we never saw it. The one reprehensible thing Preservation could've been completely responsible for - the Deepness killing people - ended up being the result of his frayed mind. He could've been solely responsible for the Deepness covering the Sun and killing plants, but that ended up being caused by Ruin. Ruin spoke with too much malice and joy of killing all life and destroying everything. Apart from his attributes being fundamental aspects of life and the Universe, there was no possible way I could've seen his stance as having any sort of value. Sanderson also wrote too many things that made Ruin's planning so far behind Preservation's. Preservation felt like a Xanatosian genius even on his deathbed. Ruin was a petulant child. Ruin wasn't kind, or patient, or particularly clever, or have long-spanning schemes when Sanderson presented him in the spotlight. Don't even get me started on his futuresight lmao. And tbh I don’t get why Sanderson wrote a being of death and destruction as the opposite of stasis and stability. Is he trying to say in life and creation, everything either stays the same or everything dies?
I know that wasn’t his intent, but it came across that way. It’s haphazard in retrospect, and I don’t understand why that was the direction after the beauty of Kelsier’s rebellion. I still love the concept of Ruin and Preservation’s conflict, but I think it could’ve been much more developed. More nuanced. Ruin could’ve been far more of a Chessmaster or represented a different concept.
With Harmony and Trell... I'm not as certain who's the good or bad guy. And so far, Trell's schemes are genuinely complex, layered, and terrifying. Even the Set are scary.
Marasi grew a lot, as expected. Wayne didn't grow but he was still so much fun. Love the new dynamic of Wayne and MeLaan, who's also pretty great. ARADEL IS A MAN!!!
There wasn't much of Steris this book. But she vastly improved in such a short time! Feels like she hides a lot but is actually a warm person. Look at the ending 🥺
Well done, Sanderson. I give Shadows of Self ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️/5.
#mistborn#mistborn era two#wax and wayne#shadows of self#cosmere#brandon sanderson#paalm#bleeder#lessie#rip lessie#rip paalm#poor wax :(#go steris!#mistborn wayne#marasi colms
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Discovering that Wax and Steris’s first kiss happened after he was framed for murder is incredibly on brand
#I swear if she dies in the lost metal I’m going to riot#how many times can you fridge ONE man’s wife?#threes strikes and you’re out#also on brand that violence gets him a little hot and bothered#waxillium ladrian#wax and wayne#steris harms#steris ladrian#cosmere#mistborn era 2#mistborn#the bands of mourning#bands of mourning reread
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me @ Steris in The Alloy of Law:
Me anytime Steris does anything in The Bands of Mourning:
#I don’t think I’ve ever had such a complete change of heart about a character without them going through massive character development#it’s incredible#Anyway#Steris is now my favourite character the end#cremposting#brandon sanderson#wax and wayne#steris harms#Books#reading#fantasy#mistborn
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[Image description: Two drawings, both featuring my D&D character Sparks (she/he), set against a geometric patterned green and purple background. Sparks is a young, thin, gray Drow/Half-Orc with short undercut bright red hair that is pulled up into a small ponytail, orange eyes with black sclera, and a small set of orc tusks. In the first drawing, she is wearing a short sleeve red top with gold patterning, red cloth wrapping around her waist, a brown cloth belt, dark orange pants with red scale patterning, and patterned gold boots. In the second image, she is also wearing brown leather armor over her shirt, along with a short red jacket with gold trim and an emblem featuring red, orange and yellow stars arranged in a triangle, representing her goddess Lliira. Sparks is stood in three quarters profile, facing left, with her head in full profile. She is looking back over her shoulder with a confident smile on her face. End description.]
A little birdie came to visit and gave Sparks what she's always truly wanted: Freedom.
Sparks broke her warlock pact with her shitty patron and is now a Paladin of the Goddess of Joy instead ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
#Eli's Art#Frostmaiden#Sparks#I'm so proud of her 😭😭#and so happy#and now she has 6 levels in paladin oh so good#baby girls been going through a lot lately she needed this#and now i can't wait for her and steris to talk about faith 🥺#it's too much i can't handle it
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I just started reading The Bands of Mourning, and christ while I love Wayne what he just did is a fucking lot.
I'm assuming it will be addressed at some point and I get the guy has a lot of problems. I'm guessing that scene immediately following with Marasi about letting go will be important for his arc. But still, this one was harsh.
My poor girl Steris.
#mistborn#cosmere#the bands of mourning#mistborn era two#mistborn era 2 spoilers#steris harms#“Teehee i flooded your fucking wedding.”#this is probably cause I got married this year and if someone fucked up the wedding my husband put so much effort into id fucking snap#like do not pass jail go directly to ironeyes
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I love Wax and Steris. I love this whole group in general so freaking much and looking back on the first book and seeing how far they've come and how their relationships developed is making me so emotional but thinking specifically about how like,, Wax and Steris are two people who spent much of their lives feeling like they didn't belong and when they meet they both have these kind of.. half formed places in the world like Steris can handle herself in high society but still feels out of place and she technically has Marasi but they're not at all close at that point and Wax had just left the roughs and he has Wayne but he's lost Lessie and the thing is it's in the meeting of those sorta half formed things that they create something that is so so so whole and looking at this whole group at the beginning of this last book being a family I just. I love them so much and I love that they made themselves their own place in the world
#tlm spoilers#i only want to think about the beginning of this book and the years before that i dont want to think about the ending its not real go away#the lost metal spoilers#cfsbf#mistborn#the lost metal#tlm#wax and wayne#steris harms#shit wait#steris LADRIAN#waxillium ladrian
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being the comedic relief is sooo over need a new typecast asap
#my day started at 6:30am; my day started going downhill at 6:45am#i sliced my finger so bad there’s an actual flap of skin . girl#then after the almost fainting fit was over i applied pressure w a little toilet paper and headed on off to work#got to work my manager said ‘i dont think so’ bandaged me up sent me to HOSPITAL#guys i am so phobic of hospitals and all the surrounding experiences its so bad#so anyways my mum picks me up from work and drops me off w my girlfriend bc i need my hand held#i also lost my worry stone when i was in the hospital last week so thats great cos i was significantly more worried today .#and anyways the nurse is like ur being very calm im like yes also im having an anxiety attack it’s unrelated#she puts on my little steri strips after she LIFTS the flap of skin to check if its clean … and sends me on my (un)merry way#literally straight back to work against her advice sorry to the nurse#like ……. be so fr#sic#also the bandage situation is ridiculous like i need to wash my hair so bad also what do i do
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the @cosmereplusshowdown is going to be a fucking nightmare when we reach steris vs adolin poll tbh
#cosmere#this is the steris website. this is also the adolin website#apologies to my non-cosmere moots for the shit that Will go down when that future arrives
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i will never stop writing bakugou as a shy, blushy loserboy, but. the idea of you being more inexperienced than him ??
you're carefully bandaging him up at the agency clinic, after he'd taken a nasty hit that left his shoulder scuffed up, and he's been in here with you more times than he can count, much too late at night, and maybe that's how you get into this conversation in the first place; weird stuff always gets said at this hour.
"no, i'm telling you," despite the vulnerability of what you're saying — despite the awful look that must be on his face — you're laughing. "never dated anyone, never been taken on a date, nothing."
and — he really must look truly terrible, with his mouth open and his lip curled over his teeth and his brows furrowed, because he can't hardly believe a fucking word you're saying. it pisses him off and he doesn't know why, just seems. a waste, for no one to have appreciated someone like you.
someone that he maybe thinks about too much, that is too nice and not funny to anyone but themselves but still laughs and hardworking and. so pretty that it annoys him.
his question comes out rough, harsh. "why the hell not?"
"i don't know," you shrug, eyes cutting to his before focusing back on patching him up. "i'm — probably too shy and weird, or something. and online dating is hard, y'know! some guys are really into the purity thing, like too into it, and some guys find out and won't touch me with a ten-foot pole, so," and then you shrug. like that's all there is to it.
and katsuki is just astounded to know this. not that he's ever done all that much himself, but all his bases have been covered, by now in his life, and he just really can't imagine anyone knowing you and not wanting to—
he realizes the irony of thinking this, like a punch to the gut. after knowing you for almost two years now and never so much as complimenting your stupid hair and the stupid way you wear it.
"well," katsuki grumbles, averting his eyes to the walls of the clinic, trying to seem more interested in your creepy, anatomy posters. "maybe he's comin'...or whatever."
"who's coming?"
"your guy, i don't know!" it's unfortunate that his shirt is off for this, because there's no way you aren't getting a perfect view of the flush that spreading down to his chest. "your dude, maybe he's...figuring it out."
"hmm, maybe. that's what my gran says, but who knows?" you shrug, oblivious — and suddenly your singleness makes a smidge more sense. "i've resigned myself to a touchless, loveless life for—"
"he's comin'!" katsuki barks and you startle at the outburst, eyes casting over his warm cheeks and then down his chest and back. finally, it fucking clicks for you, like he hasn't been finding excuse after excuse to see you every damn night for ages. "he's...checkin' his work schedule and then he's...gonna figure it out, alright?"
you brighten considerably, lip going between your teeth. "oh, yeah, yeah," and your smile is unstoppable, not hidden in the slightest as you turn to the steri-tray at your side, shyness bleeding into his own. "alright."
#WAAAAHHHH#he considers himself so inexperienced#to the point he's such a flustered fucking dork about dating anyone#and so it makes him remarkably nervous around you to begin with#and then he goes absolutely bonkers learning that you've done even less than HIM AKFHDJSKAKAL#he's PISSED like WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN NO ONE HAS EVER KISSED YOU BEFORE#NEVER BOUGHT YOU SHITTY FLOWERS BEFORE#it is probably the thing that riles him up enough to make his move because he's just. so pissed about it alfbsisjai#lmaoooooo#✿ willow writes#✿ thoughts: bakugou#✿ theme: pre relationship bakugou
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Grotesque/Unbridled are the worst. they make each other worse and they already both fucking sucked to begin with
#Zilly rambles#murder labyrinth guy x guy who loves state sanctioned violence what could possibly go wrong#steris is obsessed with vassal. the way he made voss have dinner with them even though vassal isnt allowed to see him.
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Cosmere Characters: Would They Be Good at Pulling Pranks?
Yesterday was April 1, aka April Fools Day, a holiday that encourages people to pull pranks. So that got me wondering: if such a holiday existed in the Cosmere, would various Cosmere characters be good at this whole "pranking" thing?
1. Syl: Yes, but only of one type
Syl is a prankster in canon: she likes to stick things together! Your shoes to your floor, your hand to your spear, your butt to your chair...so yes, she is great at pranks. I bet if April Fool's Day existed in the Cosmere, she would be an absolute menace.
2. Lopen: Depends on who you ask...
I think Lopen's pranks would be like his jokes: not intended to be mean, but actually kinda mean. In Dawnshard, Lopen came to learn that his jokes were not universally fun and beloved, and I feel like his journey with pranks would necessarily be similar. He'd love pulling them, though!
3. Wayne: Yes, and everyone has fun
Sanderson once said that the difference between Lopen & Wayne is that Wayne can read the room. So I think Wayne would not only like pranks, but would also be more aware of their effect. Like...if Lopen is tying your shoelaces together when you're late for work, Wayne is putting googly eyes (which he invented) on all of your family photos while you're out.
4. Sarene: Yes (mostly against Iadon)
Sarene, Miss Malicious-compliance-and-weaponizer-of-other-people's-misogyny, would love an excuse to "accidentally" prank Iadon. She'd either do really obvious pranks and blame them on feminine confusion ("Oh dear I just wanted to clean but I guess washing your portrait ruined it??") or do really sneaky pranks that no one could trace back to her (cut to Sarene secretly weakening the seams on all of Iadon's clothing so that a good sneeze will make them all fall off).
5. Kaladin: Not anymore
We know that in canon Kaladin pulled pranks as a kid--he told Tien to save a lurg to dump in their dad's bath later. But I feel like nowadays, Kaladin is too gloomy and glowering to pull pranks. He might just enjoy Syl's sometimes though...
6. Steris: Maybe they're just not the most creative...
I think that if a Pranking Holiday existed, Steris would study up and do a textbook prank. Like, she's replacing Wax's sugar bowl with salt, and then he drinks a sip of salty coffee, and then she says, "Ah ha! You have been Pranked per the Social Conventions of today's Holiday!" And Wax would be genuinely delighted.
7. Dalinar: No--not at any point in his life
Blackthorn Dalinar would think a prank is "stabbing a guy in the leg and laughing." Modern-day Dalinar would be puzzled that anyone actually does pranks--aren't they, you know, kinda beneath you? The Codes would DEFINITELY not allow them.
8. Sigzil: No, too much paperwork
The Prank Authorization Form is 7 pages and takes 5 weeks for review and approval. Who has that kind of time???
9. Lift: Yes, absolutely
I can see Lift positioning buckets of water over, like, Dalinar's door or slicking the floor right as that merchant she saw yelling at kids walks by. Now--imagine Lift & Syl going on a prank spree together. You're welcome.
10. Hoid: Nobody knows
Hoid put paperclips in the pockets of every single one of Elhokar's outfits. He put edible glitter into Rock's stew, turning it into Glitter Stew. He found one of Kaladin's buttons on the ground and straight-up ate it while making direct eye contact.
But...were any of those things pranks? Were they plots? Were they just Hoid being Wit?
Nobody knows.
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Questioner: If Steris, Rock, and Lift had to prepare potatoes, how would they prepare them?
Brandon Sanderson: This is actually pretty easy because Lift would get there without her potatoes, right? Now, she probably ate some of them, she probably just lost the others, she maybe gave some of them away to people who needed them. She's not going to arrive with any potatoes.
If you give Lift a sack of potatoes, it's on you. You can know the potatoes went to good places. She probably tried to feed one to her chicken, it probably didn't like it very much, mine doesn't, but she tried.
Rock is going to make something delicious because it's a challenge to him. He's not familiar with a potato, he's like what do I do with this thing? He's going to figure out how to make something very very very cool with it.
Steris is going to buy a recipe book. She's going to make every potato dish in there, in case you don't like the one that she made.
#the stormlight archive#rhythm of war#mistborn#the alloy of law#cosmere#cfsbf#brandon sanderson#wob#root
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Blurred Lines 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.
Characters: Nick Fowler
Note: double chapter day! Thank you to @alicedopey for the ask! I see you girl.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
Cotton drags over tinted skin, flecks it red catching along with the new blood trickling from the split. A hiss passes through clenched teeth despite your gentleness. The act reminds you of when your daughter was only six, crying over a scraped knee as you covered it with a Spongebob bandaid. You don't have any of the yellow strips now, just the roll of gauze and medical tape.
"Ah," Nick clenches his jaw again.
"Sorry," you murmur, "it needs pressure."
You push your thumb against the cotton and he winces, forcing a smile as he crackles out a chuckle.
"I can handle it, honey," he assures you as you hold the cotton above his brow, his other brilliant eye looking up at you. "Just like you handle me so well."
You don't respond. Your boss is a mercurial man. One moment, charming, the next rigid and ignitable. You've learned it's better to just go along with whatever mood he's chosen.
"Other guy looks worse," he remarks as you lift the cotton.
You nod, "I'm sure, sir."
He laughs again, closing his eyes with a sigh. He sits reclined in one of the leather armchair, his head tilted as you tend to him. It's after midnight. You're supposed to be at home sleeping. Your daughter's coming back from college for the weekend, you planned on brunch.
You sift out the box of slender steri-strips and bend over him, carefully sealing the gash above his brow. He's a handsome man. Objectively, you must admit it. Dangerous, too, but you don't wonder about the cuts and bruises. He has a shining badge that tells you more than enough.
"Hands of a goddess," he purrs as he opens his other eye again.
You stand and gather up the waste, packing away the medkit. You thank him plainly and fight the urge to look at the clock. You wad up the used gauze in your fist.
"Sir, is there anything else tonight?"
He lifts his head, both eyes on you now. He considers you as he sits straight and grips his knees. He stands and shrugs, spinning on his heel and striding to the mirror hung on the wall, just above the low table decorated with brass and oak.
"Did I interrupt you?" He asks as he checks his reflection. His left cheekbone is purpled and scraped.
"No, I was only sleeping," you say. You try not to let on that it doesn't come easy or often for you. It's not his concern.
"Mmm," he squints at himself and winces as it tugs at his wound. "Well, you can find an extra room here, drive back in the morning."
"That's kind, sir, but I'm okay," you back up, "I'll clean this up and go if there's nothing else."
"You'll just be back tomorrow," he turns and crosses his arms.
"Um, it's my day off, sir."
He clicks his tongue and nods, "forgot."
You force a small smile. No big deal.
"Got big plans then?"
You hesitate. He doesn't usually ask. You shake your head. You don't think he really cares.
"Would you like some scotch before I go then?"
He inhales, chest rising deeply before falling again. He drops his arms and slips his hands into his pockets. One tail of his shirt is untucked and his jacket is splotched with dark stains. He is sauvely unkempt.
"Sure," he grumbles as he paces before the artificial fireplace.
You dip your chin and leave him. You toss away the garbage and tuck away the kit. You wash your hands before you return to the den and take the thick-bodied decanter from the cabinet. He stands with one hand on the mantle as he stares at the floor.
You pour him a glass and bring it to him. He accepts it without looking up. You ask him if he wants the rest left out for him. He says it doesn't matter.
You bid him good night as he resumes his pensive trance. The adrenaline slakes away and now he's coming down. He'll be in for a good sleep, a lot better than your own. You'll be lucky to get a few hours before you're due to meet Josephine.
🥃
You smile across at your daughter. Every time you see her, she seems more grown up than the last. She has a pretty flower pin in her hair and her lips are glossed the perfect shade of rose. She reminds you of your age, both in a good way and a bad way.
You don't fail to notice the other looks in Josephine's direction. Joey, she corrected you when you picked her up. The changes in her make you feel stagnant. You suppose that comes with age too. You're done blossoming, you only have the wilting ahead of you.
"So, exciting," you say as you pinch the stem of your glass, a pair of mimosas between you as you await your entrees, "you got an internship."
"Um, yeah, it's not bad," she pushes her shoulders up, "my boss is okay, I guess."
"That's good, most bosses don't earn much more than 'eh' as a rating," you kid, "sorry, kiddo."
"Mom," she warns.
"I know, sorry," you correct yourself, "I'll try not to do it again."
You remember being her age. Caught in between adulthood and childhood, not wanting to be reminded of the latter.
"It's fine," she sighs, "I just... I'm trying to be a grown-up, you know?"
"Oh, you've got lots of time for that, Miss Lawyer," you trill, "you are very grown up. You know that, don't you? I'm so proud of you."
"Still got a far way to go," she sips from her own glass. You couldn't have ever imagined your daughter with prosecco sparkling in her hand, but there she is. You almost can't believe she's yours. "Let's talk about you. That's a lot less stressful."
"Ha, but boring," you roll your eyes. "You know, same old."
"Oh, trust, I could tell by the dark circles."
"Oof, you did not," you cackle, "Josephine-- Joey."
"You should try some vitamin C cream--"
"Don't," you warn her with a point across the table.
She giggles and her eyes flit around. There's something else. Something she's not telling you. But she wants to.
"What's going on?" you prompt.
"This is such a nice place," she looks at the table and fidgets, "thanks for breakfast, mom..."
"But..." you add on.
"I... hate to ask but..."
"You need money," you utter, "that's okay. We can make it work. What's it for?"
"Books," she says, "I kinda ran out before I could buy them all, so..."
"That's okay. I'll see if I can't get a few extra hours at work then."
As if he could hear the very allusion to his existence, your phone flashes with a private caller. It's Nick. It's only ever him. You flip the phone down to hid the call.
"Take it," your daughter insists, "it's fine."
"No, it isn't. It's my day off. It's our day," you say, "it can wait."
She smiles. She's so pretty. You can't help but feel inadequate next to her; your own daughter. She's young and vibrant and you're wearing a blouse you bought a decade ago that squeezes your middle a bit too tight.
"Like I said, I'm boring," you sit forward, "tell me about the good stuff. The juicy stuff. Any boys-- or, men?"
"Mom," she snipes.
"What? I gotta live vicariously through you."
She rolls her eyes, "no."
You laugh. You always loved teasing her. She's hard-nosed and too focused to worry about the piddly troubles caused by boys. Or...
"Any girls?"
She looks at you with fire in her eyes. Ah, that's it.
"What's her name?" You goad.
"No, it's nothing. We're not even-- I mean, there's no one," she takes another gulp of her mimosa.
"Sureeee," you drag out the word teasingly, "how many more of those to spill?"
"Enough," she warns, "what about you, huh? You seeing anyone besides your soap operas?"
Now it's your turn to frown, "no," you answer evenly, "I... don't think that's in the cards for me, honey."
"Mom, it's okay," she softens her voice, "dad wouldn't... he would want you to be happy."
"Mm, he would, but he was my happy," you bat your lashes against the singeing heat. "I'm okay, really."
"You deserve someone," she says. "You don't have to be alone."
"I am alone, doesn't mean I'm lonely," you deflect. "Anyway, let's enjoy this. I don't get enough of you."
"Alright, twist my arm, I'll settle for free mimosas and a breakfast bowl," she gives a snarky grin.
You smile. She's the hope you have left. You hope that she never goes through the same pain again. One loss is enough for both of you.
🥃
Joey orders and Uber and you sidle in next to her. You clutch your phone over your purse as the haze of the mimosas fogs in your vision. You may have indulged a bit much.
Your phone shines and you look down. 'Private'.
"I see what you mean about bosses," Joey chides.
"It's not-- not a big deal," you dismiss the call.
"Mom, maybe it's an emergency," she sniffs, "he's been calling a lot."
"He's an adult, I just sweep up his crumbs," you wave her off.
Your phone lights up once more. You're starting to get paranoid. Still, you have to maintain boundaries. Today is your day off.
You exhale and sit back. You watch the city smear by and yawn. The restless night tingles on your eyelids.
Finally, you get to your apartment and slump out of the Uber. You stop as Joey helps you tip the driver with the app and you carry on into the lobby of your building. The feeling of the world passing you by lingers beyond the car ride.
Upstairs, you get Joey settled into the room you haven't changed since she left. She puts her bag on the bed and hangs out in the living room as you put on a pot of coffee. It's too early to be this tipsy. You yawn and your phone once more comes to life.
You swipe it up and tell Joey to help herself to the coffee as you sweep out of the room. You head down the hall and step into your bedroom as you answer, "Mr. Fowler."
"You're busy?" Nick asks.
"It's my day off," you say firmly.
"Yes, we talked about that."
You're quiet. Confused. You try to recall the last time he bothered you outside of work. When you're not being paid for it, you never really hear from him.
"Is something going--" you stop and suppress a hiccup. It's more dehydration than the alcohol. "On?"
"I have guests coming," he says, "thought you might like some overtime."
"Oh, sir, I'm sorry, but--"
"Clearly you're disposed," he says tersely. Is he mad?
"I wasn't expecting--"
"It's fine. It was an offer. I can manage on my own."
"Of course, sir, I wouldn't--"
You flinch as the line cuts and the call goes dead with a bloop. You pull the phone away from your face and furrow your brow. Really? He hung up on you.
You toss your phone on the bed. Whatever. Forget him. Even if you weren't three glasses deep, you wouldn't leave Joey just to kowtow to his pretentious friends.
#nick fowler#dark nick fowler#dark!nick fowler#nick fowler x reader#the 355#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#blurred lines
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Don't mind me, I'm just being emo thinking about Sparks taking Steris's advice to have faith and follows it up by taking a level in Paladin 🥺🥺🥺
#Eli Speaks#Frostmaiden#Sparks#Steris#g-dddd I love them#Sparks is going through a real rough time#and she hasn't been able to express it yet#but she is so grateful for Steris's guidance#aaaand#(Sloane Nat and Claire stop reading if you see this lol)#I love her taking that to heart and praying and connecting with the goddess of joy 🥺#ace put it well#he's taking a step away from his toxic patron who told him what sort of chaos and joy he should be having#and walking towards someone who will allow him the choice to do as he pleases and find joy in things like helping others#it's too much
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Can you handle that?
If you haven't watched Scream 1996 (how?!) please pleasee go watch this scene - (Timestamp 3:25 specifically) :))
This is like a modern version.
Part 2
Ghostface x Fem!Reader
Warnings ; dubcon, coercion, voyeurism, guided masturbation, phone sex?, slight overstim
The popcorn popped gently in the background as you endlessly scrolled through your phone, looking for any horror movies that peaked your interest.
Boring.
Predictable.
Wayy too gory.
Dropping the phone onto the counter, you huffed in annoyance as you rested your head on your hand. The popping sound filled the otherwise silent kitchen, the house being empty of its usual life.
You raked your brain for ideas now you were finally alone. And now that you thought about it more, it had been a while since your hands traced your body as you dived head first into self-please.
Yeah, you knew exactly what you were going to do.
The thought alone already had your thighs squeezing together.
Just as your were turning to shut off the stove, your phone vibrated below you. Eyebrows furrowed, your eyes scanned the name.
No Caller ID.
Shrugging, you picked up the phone without a care and pressed the little green button.
'Hello?'
'Hello.' An unfamiliar voice responded back.
'Yes?'
'Who is this?' Hadn't he called you first..?
"I think you have the wrong number.' You pursed your lips.
'I don't think I do and you didn't answer my question.'
His suddern steriness made you nervous and your thighs shudder.
Jesus, had it really been that long?
'I think I’m gonna go, you definitely dialed the wrong number. See you.' You announced quickly and before he could even speak two words, you hung up.
Before you could even place the phone back on the counter, it vibrated again in your hand.
You hesitated on pressing 'answer', however your curiosity about what he wanted grew stronger until eventually you caved.
'Hello?' You hoped he didn't hear your voice quiver.
'We weren't finished talking, were we sweetheart?' The nickname made you swallow thickly and clench your fist.
'I think we definitely are now.' You tried to sound stern, not wanting some man over the phone to think he had any kind of control over you.
'Hang up again and you'll regret it.'
"Fuck I will." You argued back before doing exactly what he told you not to do.
You tossed the phone on the counter, before turning your back to it completely. Sure, he had shaken you but that was exactly what he wanted.
It was probably just an ego boost for him to freak woman out over the phone, picturing their scared faces in their own homes.
Fucker.
The phone vibrated consistency where it laid, however you stared mindlessly at the ceiling, cursing out the universe for ruining the mood.
You began to chew your nails, his words ringing in your head.
You'll regret it.
An incoming text made your ears prick, looking over your shoulder and down at the device. The text made your heart jump against your ribs.
Unknown Number - Answer the phone.
Unknown Number - Now.
The text didn't hold any explanation marks but you knew that he wasn't fucking around anymore. Your stomach sank as your ringtone yet again rang out.
Last chance, before what? You didn't know.
The phone was in your hand again, thumb pressing down on the screen as you brought it up to your ear.
'Whats got you all nervous over there? Never had a punishment before hm?' His implication made you shived with fear.
He couldn't see you, could he..?
'Or maybe its just because you haven't touched that sweet cunt of yours in a while..' You gasped out loud, pure shock and heat blooming on your face.
'You sick fuck-'
'Ah ah, thats no way to talk to me sweetheart.' He scowled, voice deep and dripping with dominance. Against your better judgement, your core responded.
'What do you want?" Your voice was quiet, all confident gone.
"I just wanna play a game is all.' His tone almost mocked you, as if you had no reason to be terrified.
'What kind of game?' You body shrink as you waited for his response. He seemed to think about it for a second, the silence killing you softly.
'It involves you taking off them soaked panties and sitting your pretty self on that counter for me.'
You froze as he once again rendered you speechless. You hand holding the phone shook as your mouth ran dry.
'Can you handle that?' He teased.
You didn't know what to be more disturbed by: his request or that your body throbbed in response. Theres no way you wanted this..right?
Would that make you just as bad as him?
You gulped, looking at all the windows - wondering if you'll see a glimpse of his shadow. That was if he was even watching you.
'Quit acting so modest, you think I haven't noticed that little stunt you've been pulling with them thighs of yours.' He almost whispered as if it was a dirty taboo thing (it was).
''I don't kn-'
'Now sweetheart.'
You don't know what possessed you. Maybe it was his veil of seduction or just your horniness but you found yourself thumbing at the band of your panties.
Would it be so bad? To have a stranger watch you touch yourself? It sounded like some corny porno.
'If you don't move within the next 2 seconds, I'll come tie you to the fucking table myself.' His voice dropped, his frustration becoming evident.
And that was more than enough for you to clamber up onto the cool marble, contrast to your hot clammy skin, hands already working your underwear down your sticky thighs.
It dropped to the floor with a disgustingly wet slap! You grimaced as you picked your phone up once again.
'Look who's finally behaving herself. Put me on loud speaker and face the patio window.' You heart beat up against your ribcage as you did as you where told.
'Mhm, look at youu.' He dragged out the 'you', adding a playfulness to the tension building. You shivered as his statement solidified that was he indeed watching you.
'Now spread those pretty thighs for me, let me see the mess I made.' You felt yourself drip even more as each word left his mouth.
You gently lifted your legs - feet resting on the counter with you and spread your knees apart.
The cold air against your pussy made you whimper as you clenched around nothing.
'Fuck, I knew you were a slut.' He groaned and you almost moaned right back at him from the sound alone.
'Trace them beautiful thighs for me sweet.' He spoke low and stern.
Your right hand trembled as you ran it down your stomach, across your hip and finally to your thigh, your left hand staying behind you to support your body.
You allowed just the every tips of your fingers to run across your skin, nerves making them shake slightly.
'Mhm good girl. Now get closer.'
You did, your whole body shaking from anticipation as your nails grazed where you need it most. Everything felt wet and you whined at the lack of stimulation.
'You need it that bad huh pretty girl? Go on, touch that pussy.' He pushed and you wasted no time.
You first ran your fingers down your slit, collecting that sweet arousal until it coated your fingers. You then moved up to your clit, rubbing your clit in quick circles.
'No, no - slower. Can't have you coming too quick, can we?' He tutted, redirecting you before you got too carried away. You moaned in response but obeyed nevertheless.
Your fingers slipped every now and then as your whined and moaned into the quiet again. The man on the phone encouraged you continuously, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.
'Good fucking girl.'
'Keep rubbing that puffy clit for me. That's ittt.'
'I can see you dripped down on the fucking table - you're so desparate.'
The only words that left your lips were 'Please' as you threw your head back, rubbing your clit harder until he scolded you to slow down once again.
'If you need it that bad, put a finger inside that tight cunt and fuck yourself 'till you cum.' You almost cried out in happiness as you slid your hands lower, a single finger entering you.
'Fuck I can hear that sloppy pussy through the phone, put me closer.' You responded with a quiet 'okay' and moved the phone closer to in between your legs.
'Go on, fuck that cunt.' He ordered and your once again threw your head back, moving your finger faster.
You curled your middle finger up against your G spot until you felt that pit in your stomach built up once again. This time you didn't care what he said, you were going to make yourself come.
You also slid your left hand in and rubbed your clit, your coordination slightly off but you didn't care, it was working.
'Come for me pretty girl.'
That was your final straw as your felt everything you had built crumble between your legs. Your hips bucked up against your own hands and you dropped back flat against the surface below you.
'Move your hands sweet girl, let me see.' He cooed at you and you did as you were told, bringing your hands up to rest on your chest.
'Fuck, your rubbed your poor pussy raw babe.' He faked sympathy but you were too busy trying to catch your breathe.
'But don't get too comfortable. Keep going.' You froze.
'W-What..?'
'You heard me, sit up and. Keep. Going.' He ordered and you couldn't even splutter a response. You back ached as you sat up, thigh trembling and twitching.
You slid your hand down, soaked with you arousal, back down to your pulsing core.
However, as your fingertips came in contact with your clit, your hips bucked away as the painful surge of overstimulation shocked through you.
'I-I cant.'
'You can.' He instantly spoke back, 'I wanna see you come from those pretty fingers again.'
You decided to leave your clit and slide lower, reentering your middle finger into your quivering core. But even then, you flinched away from sensitivity.
'It's too sensitive.' You whined, retracting your hand away completely.
It went quiet for a bit and you gulped, scared you had somehow pissed him off. Even though you had been good for him, all things considered.
'Fine,' You breathed out a sigh of relief and rested your head back.
'I guess I'll just have to do it myself.'
You bolted upright, uncomfortable as your pussy slid against the now warm counter.
'What did you just say..?'
'I'll give you a 5 minute head start, go hide and if I don't find you - you get off scot free.' He said, 'I promise not to peek.' his voice light and airy while you choked silently.
'But-'
'5 minutes.' He said before he hung up.
Please do not steal, copy or translate my work
#ghostface smut#ghostface#ghostface x reader#female!reader#dead before daylight#slasher#slasher smut#scream x reader#halloween#scream smut#dubcon#tw: dubious consent#tw: coercion#scream 1996#scream#dbd ghostface#ghost face#ghost face x reader#voyerurism#watch me masturbate#smut
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Wherefore Art Thou My(stery) Lady
When a failed attempt to let Chat Noir down easy ends with Ladybug learning his name, she does what any lovesick teenager would do: teases him mercilessly. (Season 2/3 era.)
Chapter One
It figures, Adrien thought, as Ladybug carried him to safety. It figured it would be a dog-themed akuma. And that it would find the only cat-themed superhero in the city, even though he wasn’t currently transformed. It figured he would have to be rescued, cradled bridal style, and that Ladybug would hug him so tightly that--
Nope. Akuma. Focus on the akuma that was currently tearing through the streets, barking at people until they literally froze in terror, digging holes a hundred feet deep, and probably chasing his own tail. Focus on the lurch in his stomach as they jumped from building to building, the honking of the cars stuck in traffic, the flash of the sun reflecting off skyscraper windows. Focus on anything except for how warm she was, how firmly she held him, how her lips--
Nope, nope, nope. The wind in his hair. Birds chirping in the distance. Anything.
Ladybug bounded gracefully over the Agreste mansion's protective outer wall and landed on the grass, held him for a few seconds longer than was necessary (he noticed with elation), and then carefully set him down.
“Well,” she said, her smile wide and bright. “Stay safe! I wouldn't want anything to happen to you!”
Adrien watched her until she was nothing more than a red speck, then raced out through the gate, so he could find somewhere to transform. Ladybug needed her partner.
---
The akuma was easy to defeat, after Ladybug called her Lucky Charm. It was a box of caramel chocolates. No, they didn't feed any to the dog. Caramels made a wonderful, sticky trap when they were all melted together. Who knew? His genius partner, naturally.
Chat Noir picked up the (sadly not heart-shaped, just plain old rectangular) empty box and brought it over to her. “Look at what I fetched for you.”
“Thanks, Dog Noir,” she said, reaching out a hand for it.
He stuck out his tongue, preparing to toss the red and black box back to her, before realizing he could get one more pun out of it. He held it with both hands and gently placed it into her outstretched palm. He didn't let go until he'd caught her eye and said, in very serious tones, “For you, My Lady. And may I say, you look very fetching.” The box slid out of his hands, and Ladybug's expression morphed into a frown.
Within moments, the victim was back to normal, the holes had been removed from the street, and Ladybug was staring him down.
“I've told you,” she said.
“You've told me lots of things, Bug. You're going to have to be more specific.” Though he was fairly certain he knew what she wanted to say. Another rejection.
“You aren't going to win me over.”
Being prepared didn’t soothe the disappointment. “Would you mind if I kept trying anyway?”
Ladybug's face softened, and her hand went to her earrings as they beeped a warning. Two more minutes. “Thank you for the compliment, but it's not going to work.” She didn't sound exasperated, just sad. “I have to go.”
“See you at patrol later?” he asked as she threw her yoyo.
“Of course,” she said. “Keep in mind what I said, though.”
How could he not? Chat Noir sighed loudly once she was out of sight.
He still had three and a half minutes before he transformed back. Enough time to get poor dog-man home before anyone noticed Adrien was missing.
---
Patrol that night started out more formally than it usually did, and he knew it was due to his earlier declarations. Ladybug kept her distance from him physically and emotionally, only speaking when it was necessary and staying two or three rooftops ahead of him. He wasn’t getting the feeling that she was mad. Her tone was kind. And she always checked to make sure he was keeping up, even stopping to wait when she needed to.
Maybe she just didn’t want to give him any false hope.
Over the course of the hour, he steadily creeped closer to her. By the time they had reached the Louvre, they were side by side like they normally were. So naturally, Chat Noir let his curiosity get the better of him and asked a question that had plagued him for months. “So what's my rival like?” he asked. “Is he as funny and as handsome as me?”
“How should I know?” she said. “I can hardly see your face.”
Surprised by her sudden teasing, he quickly offered, “I could change that.” Which of course, he realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth, was about the most unhelpful thing he could have said.
Ladybug scoffed and took off, leaving Chat Noir to figure out how to fix his latest mess-up. She didn't seem too averse to answering questions, so maybe all he had to do was try again?
He stayed level with her, but gave her some space, choosing to run across the rooftops on the other side of the street. Headlights created a glow beneath them, a river of light that cast her in a warm haze.
After a few minutes of silence, he tried again. “I'm very handsome,” he said, trying to play it off. “Would you believe me if I said I was a superhero by day and a supermodel by night?”
“Pfft. No.” She stopped on a wide balcony and smiled at him.
He leaned over the edge of the roof to look down at her. “Maybe I just play one on TV then.”
“Unlikely.” She threw her yoyo and zipped away.
“No, really, what's he look like?” he called after her. “You can tell me that much.” They usually ended their patrol near Collège Françoise Dupont, which was convenient for him. And ever since Alya had discovered the little tidbit about Ladybug's history textbook, he’d started to suspect that the ending location was more than just a convenience for her, too. She probably lived nearby. They landed on the school's roof at the same time, and he thought she would just take off after that question, but for the second time, she surprised him. She sat down and leaned back on the flat top of the building. To the civilians below, only her feet would be visible, dangling over the edge. Chat Noir stayed as close to her as he dared, sitting by her knees, close enough to touch her if he reached, and stared down at the school’s stairs beneath them.
Ladybug chewed her lip like she was thinking. Did that mean she was figuring out her answer? Or was she figuring out how to say no nicely?
“He looks... a little bit like you,” she said, letting her feet kick against the side of the building.
“What if he is me?” Chat Noir asked. He hesitated before scooting closer, not wanting to push her. If she ran off again, she'd probably just go home.
“But the chances of you being the same person are really slim.”
“So what does he look like then? White kid? Blonde?”
“Green eyes, too,” she said.
“So he’s probably me.”
“Will you stop?” She held both arms straight up above her and then let them fall wide to either side of her. “There’s thousands of people in Paris that fit that description. He’s not you.”
“You said it yourself. The chances are slim. But that implies there’s still a chance.”
Chat Noir was trying really hard to convince himself that he was just teasing her. There was no way he was lucky enough to really be the guy she liked, but his mind drifted back to earlier that afternoon. The way she had held him when he wasn’t transformed, smiled at him, made sure that he stayed safe. What if the boy she liked was Adrien Agreste?
What would it be like to walk hand-in-hand with her at school? Or have plans together on the weekend?
It would hurt more to hope if he turned out to be wrong, but he couldn't help himself. She made him hope like nothing and no one else in his life could.
“Would it be bad if we were the same person?” he asked after it was clear she wasn’t going to answer his last comment.
“Not bad,” she said. “Just weird. You’re really different.”
“I thought you said we were both devilishly handsome, amazing, with perfect comedic timing–”
Ladybug laughed and shoved him. “Perfect comedic timing? You?”
“As evidenced by your laughter right now.” He gestured to her. She looked over at him from where she was lying down.
Her smile was glowing, brighter than the cars passing them on the street. Brighter than the moon. “You’re both wonderful people, I’ll give you that. Sometimes dorky, but I’m happy to know both of you.”
Chat Noir felt his face going hot at the unexpected praise.
“And sure, you look kind of similar. There. Are you satisfied?”
“We go to the same school,” he blurted out. “What are my chances now?”
“Chat!” She bolted upright to face him, eyes wide. “You can't just give away information like that!”
“I didn't-”
“We go to the same school?” she shrieked.
“I don't know!”
“So what made you say that?”
“Well, I thought maybe–” There was no way out of the mess he’d just created. Ladybug was on her knees, both hands on the roof of his - probably their - school. “I... the textbook?” he finished timidly. Even if that had been a false lead, he’d effectively just told her which school he attended, and he wasn’t sure how she would take it.
“Alya!” Ladybug growled, rubbing the heel of her hand into her forehead. When she faced him again, there was a big red spot.
“So... you really do go to my school?” he asked, patting a patch of roof next to him.
“You... you've known this... Alya released that video ages ago. You knew we went to school together, and you haven't come looking for me?”
The fragility in her tone caught him off guard. “Of course not,'' he reassured. “What kind of privacy invader do you take me for? I ought to be offended!” (The irony of the statement wasn’t lost on him.)
Ladybug didn't laugh, just quietly said, “Thank you. We go to the same school. Huh.”
The crisis he’d unintentionally created seemed to have passed. Hope bubbled up again. Most kids their age had crushes on people from school. “My chances?”
“Are slightly increased, but I'm fairly certain you're two different people. In fact, I'm not even sure we've met at school. I would have remembered meeting someone as loud and obnoxious as you.”
“Unlikely,” he muttered, but it was quiet enough that she hadn't heard him. “So this guy, that may or not be me...”
“He's not you.”
“What do you like about him?” He acted so differently at school. He didn’t think she would recognize him. Would he recognize her description of him? Maybe she would let it slip that the boy she was crushing on was a celebrity or famous or something.
It was hard to ignore the niggling doubt that said raising his hopes would only hurt more later.
“You really want to do this to yourself?” she asked, echoing his thoughts.
At the very least, he’d learn more about his Lady. What had won her over so soundly? (Maybe he would have a better shot with her if he knew that.) “Sure.”
“He's kind,” she said immediately. “He's the type of person who would help someone out even if they hated him. When we first met he went out of his way to apologize to me for something that was my fault. And he has the most amazing amount of patience I've ever seen.” She smiled while Chat Noir frowned. That didn’t sound like him.
“I mean,” she continued, “he has enough patience to deal with C-- this student that no one likes. And he's just so gentle and sweet and... yeah.” She sighed. “That's why I like him.”
She stared out over the lights of the city, but he was certain that she wasn't seeing a single building. Her face was peaceful and shining. It was a good look for her.
“Even if it turns out he's not me, he sounds like a nice guy.” He wasn't as great as Ladybug described, not nearly as kind or the well of unending patience, though that's what he tried to be like.
Then again, how many blond, green-eyed, white boys were there in the school? His chances had to be pretty good, didn't they?
“What makes you think he's not me? The personality difference?”
“I've seen you two in the same place at the same time.”
Chat Noir's heart sank. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. He knew he shouldn't have. And yet he had anyway. His ears drooped, and he grabbed his tail and started weaving it through his fingers, just to have something to do.
“Oh, Kitty.” Ladybug looked over at him. “I'm so sorry.”
“Maybe... maybe you just thought that you--”
“Please don't,” she said. “Please stop doing this.”
“But maybe you just thought--”
“Chat Noir!”
He turned to face her, slowly, deliberately. “I'm not giving up. If he's not me, I'm going to keep trying to win you away from him until you ask me to stop.”
Ladybug shut her eyes in defeat. “I should.”
But she didn’t, the hopeful piece of his heart whispered. He really wished it would shut up right now.
“Would it be easier for you if I did?”
“I–” What did he want? He felt at war with himself. Determination to keep going. But giving up might eventually make the pain of rejection stop.
She was looking at him with so much compassion and caring. The constant declarations annoyed her sometimes. He knew that. But she didn’t hold it against him and still asked if he was okay. Despite everything, he loved her. That was that. “I’d rather be able to express myself. But only if it doesn’t bother you.”
She shook her head, eyes down. “It’s fine.”
“Who is he?” he asked.
“I already told you, I can't tell you,” Ladybug said. “We can't know anything about each other. It's--”
“Then we can’t know for certain that he’s not me.” It was false hope at this point, but it was the only hope he had, so he clung to it. She'd seen them together. Maybe he had saved this guy’s life.
She stood. “I'm sorry, Chaton.” She zipped away without another word, up and over Marinette’s bakery and out of sight.
Chat Noir didn't feel much like being a superhero right now, but he didn't feel like going home so early either. He slowly climbed down the walls, detransformed, and trudged his way back to the mansion on foot, his hands in his pockets.
---
The next time he saw her was two nights later, their next patrol. She had arrived first, which was unusual, and was pacing at the top of Le Grand Paris, waiting for him. The sting of her rejection had been his companion for the past 48 hours, and it flared up a little when she turned her bright, blue eyes on him.
“Evening, My Lady,” he said, bowing elegantly. “I hope you've--”
“I have an idea.”
Chat Noir was still bent at the waist, and the grandeur of his gesture was broken by his sudden jerk upright. That sounded urgent. “What kind of idea?”
“Uh...” Ladybug didn't usually hesitate like that, and he realized that it probably hadn't been urgency in her voice, just anxiety. Ladybug kept going. “How I can prove you two aren't the same person without revealing anybody's name.”
“Oh.” Stellar way to start a patrol.
“Here's my plan. So after I went home the other day, I felt bad that you felt bad and then I had to figure something out, so that you could be happy again, and I promise I won't go looking for you.” Her words tumbled and tripped over themselves. “And I thought that it would probably be best if you could just stop thinking the way you were thinking, but no one’s identity will be compromised, and this is kind of dangerous if I’m wrong, but I’m not wrong, so if you don't want to do this it's fine, and of course you couldn't be the same two people, and--”
“Ladybug.” He hadn’t heard her babble like that for at least three months. Whatever her plan was, she was obviously presenting it to him against her better judgment. Her arms curled around herself, like she was terrified. Her hands were tight balls.
“I went through all of last year's yearbook. Are you in there?”
He nodded slowly, uncomprehending. “Yes?”
“I checked everyone, well, all the boys who look like the two of you. There's a bunch of people who match your general description, and none of them have the same initials. And no one has the same first initial as him, so I thought-- you could tell me what your first name starts with, and...”
And she could crush his heart once and for all when it didn’t match.
Or, his traitorous heart whispered. Or maybe…
“Don't worry about me,” he said, resigned. It was a silly hope. He would just go back to his original plan of winning her over.
Ladybug hugged herself tighter, fists clenched, staring at his shoulder. “Are you sure? Because we don't have to do this.”
He squared his shoulders to brace himself. “A.”
“A?”
He nodded.
“Your last name?”
“What do you need it for? You said no one else has the same first letter.” She didn't answer, and he couldn't tell if this was a good sign or a bad sign.
“Another A,” he said.
Aside from her fists loosening slightly, she gave no visible reaction, though he thought he heard her breathing pick up a little.
“Ladybug?”
“Ladybug has to go home now,” she whispered.
He blinked. “What about patrol?”
Without so much as a backward glance, she slipped over the side of the hotel. He watched as she skittered away over the rooftops and toward the direction of the school. What was that reaction? It looked bad. Those were bad feelings she was having. Did she leave so she wouldn’t have to hurt him again? Or some other reason?
Chat Noir finished the patrol route on his own, not sure if he should feel hopeful or despairing.
Ch 2
---
Author's note: Hello! Welcome to my Big Bang contribution! This story has seven chapters and will update every Saturday! Thank you to @toadashi who did some great artwork for it! To @cardiac-agreste for beta reading. To @jennagrinsoverml, for being so interested in this half-formed story that I eventually finished it. And to @mlbigbang for hosting this event!
Here is the artwork for this fic! :https://www.instagram.com/p/C1l539rowbO/?igsh=cmloaWRyaWVkdThv
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