He has nightmares, afterwards.
Callum has always been a night owl, staying up too late in his office, and he'd been better at actually going to sleep on purpose once Rayla had come back, uncertainly settling in Ezran's old room across the way, but...
He wakes her up one night crying and sticks to the cot in the high mage study after that, neck damp from chilled sweat as he stares at where the mirror used to sit. She doesn't need this, and he knows if he tells her about the dreams, he'll have to tell her why they're happening, and how much she'll blame herself right when she was starting to get better, and—
Half the nightmares are about being possessed again, the snakes from Finnegrin's office ensnaring his wrists and hissing in his ears. Biting his neck with sharp pointy fangs and injecting poison in his blood. Turning him to nothing more than Aaravos' puppet all over again, but by his own hand.
You knew the risk you were taking, Aaravos' voice mocks, cold and deep, his upper lip curling in a sneer. The irony isn't lost on either of them. By setting yourself free.
The worst of those dreams is a carousel of his loved ones — Soren, Ezran, Rayla — strangled, bloody, him helpless to stop it, to stop any of it, the primal stone like prison smashed at his feet, the glassy shards piercing his eyes. He's played right into Aaravos' hands and lost everything, and—
The other half — the worst better half is when Aaravos doesn't need to possess him to get what he wants. There's the same fear, the violence, the same pool of blood collecting at his knees, the same result — Aaravos, out — and yet...
If you want her to live, little mage, you'll do as I tell you.
When he wakes up from those dreams, it's still with a cold sweat, but with a steadier heart. And he hates it — hates how it reminds him of all the parts of himself he doesn't want, the parts of himself that he doesn't like, that scare him. How could he possibly be that selfish? And yet, he knows... he knows—
The tides are true as the ocean is deep.
The ocean arcanum thrums alongside the beating of his heart. He wakes and looks towards the window Rayla had climbed through, haloed in light, and him unaware of the dark creature he'd found in the mirror. He swallows hard.
He knows which nightmares he'd choose to have come true, his fingers folding over his knees.
I would do anything for you.
He knows exactly what he'd choose, because at least he'd still have her.
And the worst part of it all is that he knows, somehow, in his bones, that Aaravos knows it too. Has known it for much longer than Callum has, anyway.
It's almost what scares him the most.
"Your bedhead's getting worse," Rayla says cheerily at breakfast, combing her fingers through it, a butter knife clasped in her other hand.
That's the best response I could think of to your stupid request. I'm not going to kill you!
Almost.
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Summary:
And then, suddenly, it was all over. He fell to the ground, briefcases flung next to him… he heard footsteps hurrying toward him from inside. The door flung open, and two figures stood there - his mother and…
“Welcome home, Number Five,” said Pogo.
Time Travel/Watching The Show fix-it fic based on this concept.
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warning:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:
Gen
Fandom:
The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Relationships:
Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Everyone
The Umbrella Academy - Relationship
Number Five | The Boy & The Handler (Umbrella Academy)
Characters:
Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)
Luther Hargreeves
Diego Hargreeves
Allison Hargreeves
Klaus Hargreeves
Number Six | Ben Hargreeves
Vanya Hargreeves | Viktor Hargreeves
The Handler (Umbrella Academy)
Lila Pitts
Dr. Pogo (Umbrella Academy)
Grace Hargreeves
Hazel (Umbrella Academy)
Cha-Cha (Umbrella Academy)
Eudora Patch
Additional Tags:
Time Travel
Fix-It of Sorts
Characters watching the Umbrella Academy
Family Bonding
Family Fluff
Fluff and Angst
Hurt/Comfort
Family Feels
The Hargreeves | Umbrella Academy Need a Hug
The Temps Commission (Umbrella Academy)
Creepy The Handler (Umbrella Academy)
Bad Parent Reginald Hargreeves
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Written for @ladrienjune Day 25 - Goodbye Kiss
Read on AO3
Chapter 1 - Adrinette - Kiss in the Rain
Chapter 2 - Ladrien - Goodbye Kiss
She’s out during the middle of the night again. It’s the fifth night in a row. Adrien watches her swing gracefully from one building to the next and contemplates joining her. But whatever is bothering her, she won’t share with Chat Noir. Each time he asked, she insisted that with him there, she knew they’d be fine.
And when she offered him the brightest smile - a smile he thought existed only in their Jubiliation inspired shared dream - he couldn’t bring himself to argue. And he spent the rest of their shared patrols making her laugh with his antics. He thought he had turned each of her nights around, but clearly any positive effect he was having wasn’t providing any lasting benefit.
Because each night, she was out again, clearly trying to run from whatever kept her mind spiraling in circles.
Before he can overthink it, he whips out his phone and flashes his light at her. And almost immediately she changes the trajectory of her current arc towards the mansion. It’s almost as if she was already watching him.
She lands gracefully on the edge of the window sill.
He reminds himself to breathe. He’s always more taken by her presence when he’s sans the cat ears. He’s not sure why. Perhaps it’s because he has nothing to hide behind. He’s always wanted her to see his face, so when she can, he feels something. Or perhaps it’s because of the way she looks at him when he’s not wearing the mask. Her eyes are bright and pink dusts her cheeks.
“Good evening, Adrien,” she says, grinning.
“Hello, Ladybug,” he breathes. “It’s very kind of you to go out of your way to stop by.”
She nods deeply, acknowledging his thanks. “What can I do for you?”
His hand flew to the back of his neck. “I uh… just noticed you’ve been out a lot this week–”
“You’ve noticed that?” she asked, the pink on her cheeks darkening.
“–and I wanted to ask if you were okay?”
She stares at him for a moment, and he has to look down at the floor.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asks.
“Umm… last time you were here all the miraculous were stolen and you broke down in my bathroom?”
Her shoulders stiffen and her eyes blow open.
He wants to kick himself. “Not that I blame you for any of that! I was just worried about you!”
She glances away. She looks defeated and he wishes he had opted to go out to meet her as Chat Noir afterall. If he was wearing the suit, he would at least be able to pull her into a hug.
“That was months ago,” she says quietly.
“Doesn’t mean you’re over it,” he says.
She remains silent, her gaze locked on her yo-yo as if everything that has happened since that night is its fault.
“Though I don’t mean to presume,” he adds. “I’m sure a lot has happened between now and then.”
She turns towards his window. “Have you ever been in love?” she asks, taking a step forward so they’re standing side by side, looking out over Paris’s skyline.
He wants to laugh that it’s her asking him that question, but he doesn’t. She’s too quiet.
“Yes,” he says, looking straight at her. If she turned to him would she be able to see his feelings written on his face?
“Have you ever had to pretend that you didn’t love that person?”
He turns back to the view. “Yes,” he says, feeling the weight of that one word.
She turns to him with furrowed eyebrows. “Why?”
He shrugs. He can’t really explain why he had to turn down Marinette as Adrien. But maybe he can explain why he had to turn her down as Chat Noir. “Anyone I love, anyone I show any special attention to is likely to become a target. To get eviscerated, tortured, and harrassed by my fans. Especially if my father is not on board.”
She nods enthusiastically. “That’s exactly it! Anyone I show special attention will become a target for Monarch, and can be used against me. That, and I can never share all of myself with them. Turns out lies aren’t great for a relationship.”
“Tell me about it,” he mumbles.
“But it makes it hard to want to keep doing this,” she gestures to her suit, “knowing that if I gave it up, I could maybe be happy.”
“Do you want to give this up?” He fears her answer though he knows he has no room to talk.
“I can’t,” she says, her gaze falling into her hands. “I almost did once, but I couldn’t go through with it.”
“What stopped you?” he whispers.
“A different love,” she says.
He breathes in again, and the air is sweet with the scent of her floral perfume. He finds himself smiling. It was the same for him.
“Paris is lucky to have you,” he says.
“You think so?”
He laughs and nods. “Definitely. You don’t?”
She shrugs, but doesn’t say anything and they go back to staring at the night sky.
“Ladybug?”
“Yeah?”
“Does the person you love know that you love them?”
She’s watching him, staring into his eyes, before her gaze drops to his lips. Suddenly he can’t breathe.
…
Marinette knows that she shouldn’t. He shouldn’t know that Ladybug loves him. They just established how dangerous that knowledge was. She’s already gotten her kiss. It’s supposed to be enough.
At least until Monarch has been defeated.
She promised herself it would be enough.
But she reaches for his hand anyway. Slides her fingers through his, and she can feel his sharp intake of breath, and the look of awe on his face is so worth it. She smirks at him. That seems to bring him back to life.
“I think one of them knows,” she admits. “You?” she asks, looking at his face, not acknowledging their joined hands. If neither of them say anything, is it really happening?
“I think both of them know,” he whispers, his fingers tightening around hers.
And now it’s her that gasps. He loves Marinette. She knows that he does. Is he saying that he loves Ladybug too?
Her eyes burn with threatened tears. It’s not fair. This sweet boy, who stole her heart the day she met him somehow along the way fell in love with both of her. She should be able to love him back. A single tear breaks past her defenses.
His thumb brushes it from her cheek. “What is it?”
She leans into the palm of his hand, and shakes her head. “Nothing.” She wishes she could tell him. She wishes things were different so she could reciprocate his feelings.
If she had never become Ladybug and never met Chat Noir, nothing would hold her back.
Not that she can ever regret meeting Chat Noir.
“I should go,” she whispers.
But he doesn’t let go of her hand. “May I offer you a goodnight kiss?”
She needs to say no. She should say no.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he says.
But it would. It would mean everything. And that’s why she pulls him closer, and lets her lips find his. He is warm and velvet soft. Their lips part and they’re breathing the same air. She’s already kissed him once, but he doesn’t know that. She isn’t going to turn away one more stolen memory if it’s all she gets to have of him.
The kiss ends too soon.
“Thank you, Adrien.”
“For?”
“For understanding why I can’t give you my heart.”
He kisses her hand. And then she pulls away, and sends her yo-yo flying. Knowing that if she stayed, she wouldn’t be able to hold back.
And she has to.
She can’t tell Adrien who she is. She can’t love him as Marinette without lying to him constantly, and she can’t love him as Ladybug without putting him in danger.
But she wishes that she could. That she could give him all of herself.
…
Final chapter will be up in Ladynoir July!
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