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Felix lockscreens
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☆ felix [ stray kids ] lockscreens.
✧₊⁺ Felix Week ✧₊⁺
September 15-17, come and celebrate our sunshine's birthday!
Event Schedule
September 15th ~ Sunshine Celebration
Happy Felix Day!!! Lets show our love by filling the community with our brownie boy! Be it a love or appreciation letter, or just your favorite photos and memes!
September 16th ~ Freckle Constellations
Our angel who's beauty knows no bounds, show us how Felix's beauty inspires you! Artist, collage makers, scrapbookers, mood-board lovers. Let us see how you see Felix's angelic presence!
September 17th ~ Recipes for Sweetness
A day for our writers to show us how Felix inspires your words. Fan fics, poems, and anything written. Show us how Felix inspires your creativity!
✧₊⁺ Bonus ✧₊⁺
On September 15th we will be holding a SKardZ Celebr8 giveaway! So keep your eyes open for that announcement!
Banner Credits ~ @aneldritchentity Divider Credits ~ @intrikatie
Looking for the pinned post? Find it Here
Switcheroo
@felixmonth
Felix Week Day 3 (Cookie Version) | Field Trip
AO3 | Masterlist
The first time they did a switch, it was to mess with their parents.
The second time they did it, they had been dying of boredom.
After the third time, switching places became a practiced show with multiple encores. Whenever either Adrien or Félix wanted a getaway from their usual lives, they'd call the other and initiate a switch. Félix came to Paris. Adrien took a train to London. They'd both live double lives, having mastered the art of being another person.
And no one noticed.
Not their peers, nor their friends. Their parents were often too busy to even notice. That was why they continued the routine seamlessly. Sometimes, Adrien would say he was too suffocated in his sheltered life and then adopt Félix's instead. Sometimes it was Félix who needed a break from so many lessons and expectations.
Until one day, when Félix was pretending to be Adrien, he observed some oddities from one dark-haired girl. There were times when she'd run into class, offer a box of passionfruit macarons to him, but would then look at him and switch it out with a bag of croissants instead. She'd help him escape whenever people hounded him, like Chloe or Lila. She'd know where to find him during breaks: holed up and hiding in the library.
When Félix had asked Adrien about this, the latter said that Marinette never acted that way. She'd be all stutters and falls around him, and would keep her distance. She never even approached him about anything except if she absolutely needed to.
So one thing was clear: Marinette knew.
Félix confronted her about it during another switch. She admitted to it, briefly retelling a moment when Adrien had mentioned a cousin that looked like him. She vowed, however, to never mention the truth to anyone. Félix was satisfied with that and let himself drop the act a little when he was around her. They'd hang out in the library or a secluded spot in the school, sharing anything and everything they found interesting. She would open up about her crush on Adrien, and he'd give her some tips here and there.
---
He was awfully late.
Félix rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath. The teacher gestured for him to get on the bus. "You're late, Adrien."
"I'm sorry, Ms. Bustier." He gave his charming 'Adrien' smile. "My driver had an emergency this morning."
He wiped the sweat off his brow as he went up the bus and located his seat. It was a field trip day around Paris for Adrien's class, and he had been called at the last minute to do a switch. Marinette immediately recognized him when he sat himself next to her.
"Fé?" She whispered softly enough to not let anyone here. "What are you doing here? I thought Adrien . . ."
He mentally grimaced, knowing that she had been excited since she and Adrien got partnered up. "He can't. He called me last night—he had a terrible argument with his father so he went ahead and escaped the house," he explained.
"That's really . . ." Marinette looked down. Félix spotted the box of macarons at her side. "But he's been looking forward to this all week."
"Apparently his father assigned him extra photoshoots in return for letting him attend the field trip."
"That's terrible!" She knitted her eyebrows. "He shouldn't get punished for that."
Félix sighed. His uncle was always a pain to deal with. And they couldn't switch during photoshoots—Adrien was too afraid they'd get caught if Félix didn't model correctly.
"What about you?" asked Marinette.
"Me?"
"Aren't you bothered? Like, being called to Paris suddenly?"
He wasn't. It was all worth it for Adrien. He didn't have a schedule for the day anyway and his friends were well aware about the switches. "Tired from running? I am. But bothered? Not so much," he said. "I wasn't pulled out of anything important, so it's alright. He owes me big for this anyway. He promised me."
Marinette's lips stretched into a warm smile. The same warmth spread in his chest. "You're really kind, Félix. I'm glad Adrien has you."
As the bus went through a slight traffic, Marinette dug around in her bag. "By the way, are you hungry?" She fished out a paper bag. "I didn't get to eat breakfast this morning so I picked up bagel sandwiches."
That reminded Félix of his growling stomach. "Yes, I'd like one if that's okay."
"Here! Good thing I packed an extra." She handed her one sandwich and his mouth began to water.
They ate together throughout the bus ride, stopping in between bites to talk. Marinette mentioned that she helped make the itinerary for the trip, while Félix recounted that he nearly missed the train that morning. He fell into a comfortable state, even if it wasn't his own life he was living at the moment. It was always like that with her.
"Oh no," Marinette groaned.
"What?"
She pointed to a girl peeking from behind her seat, a few rows ahead of them. "Alya's watching us."
His eyebrows rose. He wasn't unfamiliar with the teasing of Marinette's friends, but it felt strange since they didn't know that he wasn't Adrien. "Ignore her," he suggested.
"She's probably going to take pictures!" Marinette blew away stray hair from her face. "And jab me with her elbow all day."
---
The first part of the trip was a ride down river Seine on Bateaux-Mouches. The whole class had a boat for themselves—Félix made himself comfortable beside Marinette. He took in the scenery with concealed disinterest as the others 'ooh'ed and 'aah'ed at every sight.
"What I don't understand is why you're having a field trip in Paris," he said to Marinette. "You can always go anywhere in the city whenever you want."
She laughed. "Why? Have you been around Paris?"
His cheeks grew hot. "When I was a kid."
"So it's a treat for you then." She nudged him.
Félix huffed. "Still. The class could've gone to Lyon or even Nice."
"I think a farther trip was planned at first but it didn't work out." Marinette got her phone out to take a few pictures. "That's why we're here."
He looked around the place. Paris was nothing short of impressive of course, but he'd rather explore the city freely on his own time.
"It's because the class is going together," Marinette said.
"What?"
"That's the appeal of having a field trip around the city." She shrugged. "It's more fun with other people."
All of a sudden, two of her friends came dashing towards them. The one with glasses positioned her camera to take a picture. "Smile!" Alya directed as she snapped a photo.
Félix had barely any time to react. He wished that 'Adrien' didn't look too grumpy in the picture.
"You're doing it again." Alya frowned, looking back and forth between the two of them.
"Doing what again?" Marinette plastered a force smile.
"You're not a mess around Adrien." Nino chuckled. "It's like a werewolf transformation when that happens."
"Hey!" The pigtailed girl pouted.
"It's true! You're like a switch," Alya mused.
"I thought you were going to leave us alone on the field trip." Marinette put her hand on Félix's shoulder. He froze up for a second but then leaned into her touch.
Alya gazed at them in a calculating manner. "Fine, fine. Enjoy, lovebirds."
The pair retreated back into their seat, undoubtedly still talking about Marinette's supposed change. When Félix turned to his seatmate, he saw her cheeks tinted with red. "Sorry." Marinette retracted her hand. "I should've asked first."
"It's alright," he assured softly.
He never actually minded physical contact if it was her.
---
After their quick stop at Montparnasse Tower and picking up food at a nearby shop, the class headed for the Palace of Versailles. They were allowed to roam around following the quick tour, as long as they stuck with their pairs. Félix and Marinette found a spot near the gardens to sit down and snack on their croissants.
"I have a question," Félix piped up.
"Shoot."
"I haven't asked you before but . . . how do you know when it's me?" Even from his perspective, he and Adrien looked nearly identical. Nobody else seemed notice a blatant difference but somehow Marinette always knew.
"I don't get why either." She took a sip of her juice. "Maybe it's because I've spent so much time looking at Adrien so I just know if it's not him."
"Just because your Adrien compass isn't acting up, you can see through our switch?" He asked, eyebrow arched.
"Not necessarily!" Marinette blushed. "I mean—I didn't know at first too. Then I noticed small details. Stuff Adrien doesn't usually do. You're a good actor—err—you impersonate him well, but there are just things you can't exude if you're not him."
Félix nodded, only partially understanding it. He supposed that he couldn't have the 'sunshine aura' his cousin radiated.
"How do you know it's not me who gave you the umbrella?"
Marinette promptly choked on her croissant, eyes turning large.
He smirked. "I'm kidding. I'm kidding."
She gave him a playful slap. "Do not joke about that."
"Would it be so bad if it was actually me?"
Marinette stilled, as if deeply pondering about the thought. Félix didn't know why, but his heart nervously picked up its pace in anticipation. She licked her lips. "Well, no, not really." She shrugged one shoulder. "But I know it's not you."
"So if it wasn't Adrien . . ."
"I like Adrien for all that he is," she said. "Not only because of the umbrella."
Félix's chest squeezed at those words.
Marinette continued as she rummaged through her bag. "I actually prepared a lot of stuff today," she confessed.
He took a peek for himself. She did bring a lot. A bottle of water, a tin of candy, an extra jacket, a compact umbrella, medicine, a flashlight, and even her pencil collection. "You brought a first aid kit?"
"You never know when you need it!"
He noticed a pink envelope in one of the pockets. "And a confession letter?"
She rubbed her cheek. "Well, uhh—I—I was just thinking . . . in case I ever got the courage to give it to Adrien today . . ."
Now, she wouldn't be able to do that anymore.
"Why don't I carry your bag for the rest of the trip?" Félix offered.
"What? Why?"
"That's really heavy isn't it? You've been carrying it the whole day."
Marinette rolled her shoulders. "Okay, I am a bit sore. But I can bring your things in exchange!"
"If that's what you want," he agreed.
Marinette checked the time on her watch. They still had a couple hours before they moved on to their last destination. She took out her leather-bound sketchbook and a mechanical pencil. "Since we've got time in our hands, do you mind if I get some sketching done?" She flipped the sketchbook open into an empty page. "The Palace got me inspired."
"Sure . . . I'll just—"
"Aha! I have this for you." She reached inside her (seemingly bottomless) bag and brought out a small book.
Félix read the title out loud. "The Edeiem Sword. You actually got this?"
"Yup! I've been wanting to read a book for a while now. I remembered you saying that you wanted to read it but you didn't have time to look for it in London." Her eyes lit up. "You can read it while we wait here."
"That's . . . how come you thought about this book?"
"Eh, you seem to have a good taste in books, that's why I took a recommendation from you."
He opened it carefully to avoid curling the spine too much. A spark of glee took form in the pit of his stomach as he basked in the fact that she thought of him while choosing a book.
They stayed quiet under the calm sky. Every fifteen minutes or so, Félix's eyes would stray from the inked words and towards Marinette's drawing. Her pencil moved around wildly as she brought random drawings to life. At one point, she filled up a page and moved to another to begin a dress design. Later on, he found himself looking at her—at the way her lips moved with concentration, the way she wrinkled her nose, and the way her dainty fingers commanded the pencil.
Félix set the book on his lap to take the time mollifying his racing heart. When the switches happened, he'd often feel foreign in his new skin, crushed under the demand of keeping a smile and embodying someone he wasn't. But maybe—just maybe—the reason he still agreed to do it was right beside him.
Who Gets the Pawsies
@felixmonth
Felix Week 2022 Day 6 (Cookie Version) | Paws
AO3 | Masterlist
About the Felinette kids:
Blaise - eldest, inherited Marinette's looks but Félix's grumpiness (and eyes)
Lawrence - twin to Arielle, likes to eat
Arielle - twin to Lawrence, a tiny menace
Henri - still a year old, blonde bundle of joy
"Alright you both, it's bedtime." Félix picked up the last stray sock from the floor as the twins hopped onto the bed. He grabbed the two onesies from the hangers. One was colored red with black spots, and the other one was black with a cat-ear hood and paws.
"Look at the new pajamas your maman made." He held up the outfits. "Here's a Ladybug one for you, Arielle and a Chat Noir for you, Lawrence."
Arielle crossed her arms defiantly. "No."
Félix blinked. "What?"
"I want Chat Noir." The little girl pointed to the onesie. "I want pawsies."
"Okay, then Lawrence would you like to wear the Ladybug—" He was interrupted by a tug on the hem of his shirt, with a pleading chubby-cheeked Lawrence shaking his head.
Félix was flattered, yes, but he knew the twins wouldn't back down until they got what they wanted. "You can't both wear the Chat Noir one and maman hasn't made an extra," he reasoned, "Look, the Ladybug pajamas are nice! She's my favorite hero. Don't you want the wings—"
"Chat. Noir." Arielle scowled. Lawrence's bottom lip quivered.
"Let's see here. What if one of you wears the Chat Noir tonight and the other will get it tomorrow?" Félix proposed, pulling back the onesie from Arielle's grabbing fingers.
"I want to wear it tonight, papa," Arielle whined. Her brother repeated the same sentiment, but in a quieter voice.
Félix sighed inwardly. The twins were usually cooperative, joined at the hip in their sneaky schemes. But when they fought over something, it was difficult to make the problem go away. That was why he and Marinette avoided playing favorites and made sure the twins had the same rewards, the same things. Unfortunately, this was overlooked in the onesie dilemma.
Two pairs of blue eyes stared at him expectantly, waiting for his next course of action.
"We can settle this with a duel!" Arielle shot Lawrence a snobby look. The boy clutched his pillow, pouting.
"Ari, kitten." Félix gave her a reproachful look. "What about this: you will both wear your regular pajamas tonight and not the onesies, until maman can make an extra Chat Noir."
"Nooo!" The two chorused.
Arielle jumped off the bed, marched over to her drawers and rummaged through it. Félix watched as she pulled out a crumpled bill from her knitted purse. She held it out to her father. "Five euros for the onesie."
Félix stared. "Ho—How do you know about bribery?"
His mind momentarily drifted towards his eldest.
Arielle looked through her purse. "I can add another five. Take it or leave it."
"I'll leave it then."
She looked absolutely distraught.
"Kitten, we don't carelessly offer money to get what we want." Félix gently took her purse and put it back. He picked her up to carry her back to the bed.
"But we're rich." Arielle pointed out as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.
"Just because we're wealthy, it doesn't mean we can throw or flaunt it around," Félix lectured, running a hand through his hair. They really ought to monitor Blaise's interactions with the children.
"I—I don't have money, papa, but I'll do more chores," Lawrence sniffed.
"No, I will not be accepting exchanges for the onesie, regardless if it's in cash or service." Félix caressed the top of the boy's head.
"I have no choice but to use my last resort." Arielle clenched her fists.
"Which is?"
Her gaze turned sharp. "Bwackmail."
"No, don't try that." He did not even want to know what his daughter had as 'blackmail material'. Félix glanced at his ring, leaning forwards. "I may have a solution for this, but I'll have to step outside and check on something first. Is that okay?"
"Are you gonna make us duel?" Arielle asked.
"No, kitten." Félix stood up. "Wait here and don't fight."
He slipped out of the bedroom, staying near the door in case the kids stirred up trouble. His thumb subconsciously rubbed over his ring.
He lowered his voice into a whisper. "Plagg—"
"No!"
"Really? Not even in exchange for some Epoisse de Bourgogne? Or Stinking Bishop?"
Plagg's tail twitched.
"Torta Del Casar? Limburger?"
"Oh fine!" The kwami gave in. "I'll let you know right now that this is a bad idea!"
"Don't tell me something I already know." Félix narrowed his eyes. "Can you change the suit into something more comfy? With paws?"
Plagg huffed. "Yeah, yeah, I'll try."
Félix went back to find the twins buzzing with anticipation. He knelt in front of them.
"I found another Chat Noir onesie for one of you to wear," he said. "It's magic."
"Magic?" Lawrence gaped.
Félix nodded. "Yes, magic. Now, which one of you—"
"I want it!" Arielle raised her hand, bouncing.
"I want it too." Lawrence smiled shyly.
"We'll have to settle this fairly then," Félix explained, putting a slight seriousness into his words. "You will play rock-paper-scissors, the winner will wear the magic onesie tonight and the other will have maman's onesie, and tomorrow you'll trade."
The twins fiddled with the sheets, pondering.
"Do you accept the terms?" Félix tilted his head.
"I accept," said Arielle.
"Me too," Lawrence whispered.
Félix acted as the referee for them. The twins held out their hands, Félix chanted the words, and they drew out their choices. Lawrence put out a rock, while Arielle chose scissors.
Arielle turned to him, panic-stricken. "Best of three!"
Félix looked at Lawrence. "Lawrence, do you agree to a best of three?"
The boy bit his lip and nodded.
They tried again, and after the rounds, Arielle emerged as the champion. The girl cheered at her victory. Fortunately, Lawrence was calm about his loss. Félix helped him into the Chat Noir onesie Marinette made, reassuring him that he'd get his turn the following day.
Félix fidgeted with his ring. "For the magic onesie to work, you both have to close your eyes."
"Why?" Arielle wrinkled her nose.
"Or else the magic won't work."
"That's silly." Still, they obediently closed their eyes.
After making sure neither was peeking, Félix pulled off his ring as he waved Plagg over. He carefully put it on Arielle's finger, making sure it wasn't too tight or loose. "Don't open your eyes," he instructed, "Arielle, repeat after me. 'Plagg, claws out.'"
"Plagg, claws out!"
A green light spread in the room, which revealed a new suit on the little girl. It was similar to the other onesie, but had fluffier paws and more realistic cat ears perched on midnight black hair. Félix's heart melted at how adorable his kitten was. He silently thanked Plagg for making it perfect.
"You can open your eyes now," Félix said.
Arielle's eyes were now slitted catlike ones. She looked down on her outfit. "Wow! It's so cool papa!" She threw her arms around Félix's neck.
"I'm glad you like it, kitten." Félix smiled softly.
Even Lawrence was in a wonder-filled trance when he saw the suit. "I'll wear it tomorrow, won't I?" He pouted up at Félix.
"Of course," said Félix.
Arielle reached towards her back, pulling out the metal baton. "What's this?"
Félix's eyes widened as he took it from her. "It's, umm, a freebie. You don't need it right now—you'll be sleeping."
She gazed down at her hands, giggling. "Pawsies!"
"Félix?!"
Félix whipped around to see Marinette standing by the doorway with her mouth agape. Henri was nestled in her arms while Blaise sported an expression of amusement.
"Maman, look!" Arielle squealed. "Magic Chat Noir onesie!"
Marinette looked at her husband. "I was only out for a shopping trip and you . . ."
Félix cleared his throat. "I—I can explain."
Potions
@felixmonth
Felix Week 2022 Day 4 (Fantasia Version) | Side Effect
AO3 | Masterlist
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Marinette muttered to herself when she heard another cough from the kitten. She tiptoed to lean over the cauldron and stirred the mixture with an oversized ladle. A few drops splattered on the spellbook perched on the wobbly lectern.
She checked the book again.
“Cherries?!” She exclaimed. “It needs cherries? I swear I read charred berries instead of cher—argh, damn it!”
Angry footsteps towards the pantry made Félix stir from his sleep. He raised his head slowly, let out another series of coughs and flicked his tail. Tugging down the brim of her hat, Marinette picked up her familiar and set him down on her lap. “You’ve been out playing in the cold again, haven’t you?” she scolded.
The cat let out an indignant meow, followed by another jumpy cough. He wriggled out of her hold and settled near the cauldron. “Alright, the medicine’s just about done,” the witch harrumphed.
She tossed exactly three cherries towards the cauldron, which puffed out a pinkish smoke. Without batting an eyelash, Marinette stirred again whilst fanning the air. Finally, she lifted the ladle up to her lips and blew. “Okay, Félix, where are you?” She looked around.
Félix’s tiny tail peeked out from the bottom of the recliner. Marinette gingerly pushed the chair aside and hauled the kitten up before he could escape. More coughs and hiccups in between bubbled up from his lungs. Fortunately, when she brought the potion near his mouth, he eagerly lapped it up. “Drink it up, kitty cat.” Marinette fed the entire portion.
She set him down, gauging the effects of the potion. A recipe for cough medicine (specifically for black kittens) was the last thing she expected from the spellbook, but perhaps familiars got sick often enough for it to be a necessity. Félix hiccuped once, but no coughs followed.
Marinette blew out a breath. “Good. All finished.”
It wasn’t finished.
As she turned away to clean up the cauldron, Marinette heard a shifting noise. Her eyes widened the moment she turned around. In Félix’s spot was a golden-haired man, with his steel eyes slitted and his figure hunched on hands and knees by the chair. The look on his face was that of utter disorientation.
“Oh no.” Marinette all but ran towards the spellbook (nearly tripping over the hem of her dress) and snatched it up. “Thirty cherries instead of three?! What kind of—”
She squinted at the fine print at the bottom of the page. “Disclaimer: errors in making the potion may lead to side effects . . . you’ve got to be kidding me!”
Potion recipes were far from ‘logical’. Because there were many possible ingredients, the effects of most combinations were yet to be discovered. This was why it was important to follow the instructions down to a tee.
“Now, you’ve really done it.” An unimpressed voice rang out.
Marinette stared at her familiar-turned-human. Félix was examining his new body in distaste, nose twitching like whiskers. “Turn me back.” Félix frowned at her.
“Wait a moment.” Marinette frowned back. She flipped the pages, burying her face into the book. Alas, the spellbook had nothing about turning a human back to an animal.
She groaned. “It’s probably in the fourth volume. And I’m—” She counted with her fingers. “—Still forty-fourth in the library queue for that book!”
“What?” Félix squeaked. “I want to turn back now!”
“Maaaybe, you’ll last a few days as human—”
“Mistress!”
“I’ll find a way, don’t worry!”
“Being human is terrible,” he whined. “Bring me back now!”
“Ungrateful kitty. At least I cured you.” Marinette blew out the fire below the black cauldron. “Let’s get you clothes in the meantime.”
---
Taking care of human Félix proved to be a lot harder than kitten Félix. He was already a cunning brat in his feline form, and now he wouldn’t let go of his animal habits. He’d lie down on the floor, stretch, and yawn. He’d jump up on shelves and cabinets to swipe knickknacks off their tops. He’d rub his face with his fist and blink slowly at her.
And she knew he was doing it out of pettiness.
“Félix, get off the table.” Marinette set her hands on her hips, half-ready to swat him away with her broom.
He stopped midway through leaning into his bowl. “Why?”
“What do you mean why? Use your hands, a spoon, and a fork for goodness’ sake!”
He crawled back down to his seat and curled and uncurled his hands. “Why do I have to use my hands when I can bend?”
“Because you’re a human.” She placed a new centerpiece, a bowl of fruits and flowers, on the stained tablecloth. “For now at least.”
But instead of attempting to use his hands, Félix ducked and began eating straight off the plate, dirtying his chin and the sides of his mouth. Marinette massaged the bridge of her nose.
“When are you going to turn me back?” Félix asked.
“Soon, so stop asking that every thirty minutes.” By ‘soon’, it would most likely take a couple more days. She had explained the situation to Sibyll, who agreed to let her borrow the book. Unfortunately, Sibyll was on leave and couldn’t give it until she returned.
“I miss my tail.” Félix pouted.
She could probably find a spell to summon a tail for him but she would never open that option, knowing it would be a hazard.
“At least you’re not tracking fur anywhere anymore.” Marinette watched helplessly as he dunked his tongue on the bowl of water. She whispered a quick spell to immediately clean the lower half of his face.
“What’s wrong with my fur everywhere?”
“It sticks to my things and makes me sneeze.” She took her own seat at the table to snack on some bread. Her legs swung on top of the floor, but not even a minute later, Félix had gone ahead and ventured under the table to bump his head against her knees and feet.
“Seriously, Fé—”
“But my fur is nice.”
“Do you know how dangerous it will be if a single hair goes into the cauldron while I’m brewing?” She moved her legs away from him. “If it gets into a paralysis potion, the whole thing will explode.”
Félix stuck his head out from the table, turning his nose up. “That’s not my problem.”
“You gremlin!”
He ignored her and emerged from the table fully to groom himself. Félix licked the back of his hand and ran it up and down his face and hair. Marinette stared with disinterest, wondering if she should give him a proper bath herself.
---
After a long day out in the market and selling potions, Marinette lounged on her recliner, careful not to disturb Félix, who was positioned on the floor to imitate a cat loaf. There was one more day left of enduring his human form. Once he was back to normal, she’d vow to never let him contract an illness again.
Right at the second she closed her eyes, she felt movement from him. Félix had stood up and was trying to sprawl across her lap.
“Félix!” She jolted. “Stop, you’re going to break the chair!”
“But I always sit on your lap.”
“When you were a cat.” Her hands snuck under his back to get his weight off. “Now you’re huge.”
A tiny meow (or what sounded like a meow) gurgled at the back of his throat. Marinette suggested that he rest his head on top of her lap instead. Her hand slid down to stroke his hair, coaxing out loud purrs from his lips.
“Mistress.” He nuzzled his cheek on her lap.
“Yes?”
“You’re stressed.”
She scoffed. “I always am.”
But running her fingers through his silky hair made it all better. She waited for a complaint, the usual whining from him, but he continued purring. When she rubbed the underside of his chin, a sigh sounded out.
“That reminds me.” Marinette yawned. “I picked this up from the market.”
She procured two bangles from her pocket, one patterned with witch hats and the other with bells. She slipped one onto her wrist and the other on his.
“What’s that?” he asked.
Materials for a mental link, she said with her mind, since we’re still working on ours.
Witches with longtime familiars were able to establish a solid emotional and mental connection with them. This allowed the familiar to fully support their master or mistress. Marinette had had Félix for only a few months, and they were still working on making that bond.
Ah, does this mean mistress will be in my head all the time?
“Not all the time,” Marinette spoke. “We just need these bracelets to guide us to a proper mental link.”
He brought his wrist up to look closely at the bangle. “But I can’t wear this on my paw when I turn back.”
“Perhaps a collar for you will do.”
A sound akin to a hiss broke out. “No collars!”
“Fine, we’ll try to reduce that to something you can wear around your foot.”
Félix settled his head comfortably on her lap once more, closing his eyes. Marinette’s own eyelids were fluttering close as she nodded off.
The mental link opened again.
When will you turn me back?
“Félix!”
What It Means to be Bad
@felixmonth
Felix Week 2022 Day 3 (Fantasia Version) | Villain
AO3 | Masterlist
[last scene inspired by this post]
He only comes out at night for fresh air.
Safely tucked in the shadows, he avoids Ladybug's usual routes and strolls from one rooftop to another. The night is cloudy and the chill of the breeze distracts him from his thoughts.
And then he feels it.
Bottled, uncontrollable emotion, threatening to spill out of a fragile heart. He braces himself against a wall as it stirs in his head. The connection makes him dizzy. Throws him out of balance. It's nearby—he can feel it. He can hear the clanging noise. He can see the burning reds and dull grays.
Familiar but not his.
As he tears himself away, he spots the balcony sitting atop a bakery. There's a girl slouching behind its railings, head bowed and hands loosely dangling. He jumps to towards her, two feet balanced on the balcony railing.
Marinette jumps into a defensive stance. "Aglais." Her face contorts. "What are you doing here?"
Aglais lowers himself into a sitting position. "Was out for a stroll." He taps the center of his chest. "I heard you."
Her wariness doesn't waver. She remains quiet.
"You can cry," he offers quietly. "It's alright if you do."
The laugh that she lets out is hollow. "In front of you? Yeah, sure."
He feels the sharpness, the protection she's holding over her feelings. What does he even expect? Marinette welcoming him into her room with warm pastries? Venting out to him?
He wants to tell her why he came: you seem to dislike my other self.
A voice in his head cuts in. 'And you think approaching her as your alter ego works?'
"I'm not going to do anything." There isn't even an available butterfly in sight.
Marinette looks away, walking over to the other side of the balcony. She runs her hand through her hair in frustration. He thinks about leaving.
"I promise," he encourages again.
"Why? Why me? Why now?"
"You're hurting," he replies. "More than anyone I've seen before. Letting it out will help."
"By being under your control and destroying the city?" She rolls her eyes.
Aglais pulls his lips into a thin line. She's not wrong. It's ironic how he, of all people, is the one telling her this.
"I'm not going to do anything," he says one more time. "I'll stay here. You can cry."
Marinette tilts her head to watch the stars instead. Her fingers are trembling as she clings onto her unshed tears. Aglais tries his best to cut off the connection, feeling like an intruder amongst her emotions. He counts the seconds that pass by and hopes that she will at least take the chance.
One. Two. Three. Four.
She bites her quivering lip.
Five. Six. Seven. Eight.
Her eyes squeeze shut.
Nine. Ten. Eleven.
The first tear drops.
Marinette cries silently with her shoulders heaving up and down. His heart breaks at the sound of it. It washes over him like months of pent-up agony, like glass suddenly shattering. She drops her head and cries it all out: the loneliness, rejection, anger, heartache, envy, stress. Waves are crashing. Walls are toppling over. War drags out in the distance.
To Aglais, the negative emotions he senses aren't beautiful.
He doesn't grow eager at the potential victim. He doesn't hatch a devilish plan. He grieves with her, wanting to catch all her worries and make them go away when he knows he can't.
She spends a few minutes crying before it descends into soft sniffles. Marinette furiously rubs her puffy eyes and reddened cheeks.
He says nothing.
"I still don't get why you're doing this," she mumbles, turning to look at him.
"I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"For not doing more." He traces fabric of his suit. He's genuinely remorseful. He wishes she can really see that.
Marinette scoffs. "That's stupid. You don't do any good."
"Yeah, I don't."
He slinks away, back to the dark crevices where he belongs. He lets himself look back once, and is met with her befuddled expression—forehead creased and tongue slightly sticking out in an attempt to solve a puzzle.
Aglais sighs. It's another sleepless night for him.
---
Marinette seems extra sluggish that day.
Félix watches as she practically drags herself up the stairs and into her seat beside him. He tries not to look conspicuous in doing so, but he continues to stare at the large thermos of coffee in her hand. The circles under her eyes are a shade darker. She looks pale. Sick even.
He doesn't need to transform to feel her colorless emotions.
"Marinette! Are you okay? You look awful!" The brunette sitting in front of them turns her head, voicing out concern. "Especially with that photo going around . . ."
A scowl takes over Marinette's face for a split second. "I'm fine," she mumbles.
"Did he hurt you?" Lila asks.
"He didn't do anything."
Félix's fingers twitch with guilt. He still can't believe he didn't notice someone taking a picture of the previous night. The photograph is dark, but the people in it are unmistakable. He contemplates destroying all evidence. But doing that will rouse suspicion.
He thought what he did for Marinette was a favor. He let her cry out her stress without the danger of attracting an akuma. However, it's currently doing her more harm than good. She looks as burdened if not more.
"Did he say something to you?"
Marinette takes a swig of her drink. "Nothing much."
Lila's lip tugs down with practiced sympathy. "It's awful for you to experience that. How come Ladybug hasn't taken him down yet? It's only one villain."
Félix ignores Marinette's hitch of breath. He points his sharp gaze at their classmate. "Ladybug's already doing what she can for the city. She's fighting akumas nearly everyday."
"Yeah, I get that, but shouldn't the Order do something about it if it's clearly not working out with her?" Lila argues back.
He forces down his annoyance. Ladybug is a formidable hero. She's creative, tactful, fierce. A mere civilian has no right to insult her without understanding her position.
Félix rubs the spot on his chest where the two brooches are pinned on the underside of his vest. "That's Ladybug and the Order's business. I suggest you avoid talking carelessly about them in case they catch word of it."
Lila frowns at him and gives a cheery smile towards Marinette. "Anyway, make sure to rest up, Mari! Don't mind all the articles, okay?"
He feels the incoming nausea. He has akumatized Lila Rossi before but nothing can make him doing it again. Peeking into her emotions is like staring down into a pit of horrors. Her psyche is nothing but putrid. Condescending. What's worse is that she has shown eagerness in being one of Aglais' soldiers again.
He takes a peek at Marinette. Visiting her again isn't an option and attempting to talk to her in school is out of the question. She always has a silent animosity towards him, but he's starting to consider that it's towards everyone. To keep herself guarded. To distance her heart away. Last night was a cruel act towards her; the only time she loses hold of her feelings is in front of him.
The squeezing in his chest becomes more painful as he weaves through more realizations. The media can speculate their collusion. Or they might trap her to keep her 'safe'. What he did last night is selfish; he failed to consider the immediate consequences.
He pushes his thoughts aside as the teacher enters the classroom. He cannot let them consume him. Because he's the only one who can afford to entertain them.
He doesn't deserve to feel.
Especially when he has the entire city's emotions shackled.
---
Ladybug isn't behaving like usual.
Aglais holds back on his attacks, staying behind Phoenix, his new sentimonster. He observes her movements. They're sharp and quick, but her eyes are lacking focus. Her yoyo throws are almost half-hearted, like she's purposefully avoiding her target.
He lets Phoenix wreak havoc in another area while he leaps to a rooftop, a level above where the heroine is. She wastes no time lunging towards him as she spins her weapon for defense. Aglais retaliates with his cane and falls into the familiar dance of battle with her. However, he restrains his steps and concentrates on studying hers. She's out of rhythm. Either nervous or exhausted.
He takes it down a notch, hoping that it isn't too obvious. Ladybug sidesteps to dodge his attack and after another clash, she suddenly stops.
He also freezes.
It's the first time she stops.
Ladybug has never engaged in any serious confrontation. Occasionally, they spit insults at each other though none of their words hold reasoning.
Now, it's just them, standing in front of each other with steady gazes.
Finally, she speaks. Her voice is weak. "Why do you do what you do?"
He answers truthfully. "So I can bring the Miraculouses where they belong."
As expected, she's unconvinced. Her feet are still posed ready for a fight but she doesn't make any sudden movements. "They're safe with the Order."
"That's what they want you to think."
She takes in a shaky breath, fists clenching. She's thinking. Pondering about his words. Aglais can feel every inch of her soul and his own hums with similar sentiments. She's tired. He's tired. She's doubting. He's wary. She's in an internal conflict. Conflict is his home.
Aglais continues, "They belong to my family. The Order has exploited the Miraculouses before and they continue to do so now. They make firm rules on the usage of power but never warn holders about the underlying danger."
Her glare is venomous. "The Order's job is to guard the Miraculouses. From people like you."
"If that's what you believe then why ask me about anything?"
She stumbles a little but regains her composure. "Because there must be another way to give you what you want."
"I don't want anything. Not power. Not fame or attention." He leans on his cane. "I only want the Miraculouses."
Her eyes darken. "That's the problem."
He has always thought of her as a sensible person. Someone willing to understand and comprehend his perspective. But as long as her mind is clouded by the Order's ideals, he can't help her see the truth. It doesn't help that Paris is against him.
And yet he sees her as a reflection of him. Lonely and drowning. Numb on some days, panic-stricken on others.
Ladybug puts a hand on her head, as if telling herself that conversing with him is a preposterous idea. "Nevermind," she says. "You're only saying that so I take pity—"
"Have you ever wondered why your kwami can't tell you much?" He asks. "Or why the Order hasn't gone to fight me themselves?"
"I have but there's a reason for that," she snaps. "You're trying to poison my head."
"Your faith in them is admirable but I can tell your heart wants to break free." Aglais earns another glare from her. "That's okay. I will not force you to take my side. I'm only asking you to think about what I said. I'm sure you can tell that I have no reason to lie to you."
She doesn't stay for another word. Ladybug jumps away with her yoyo to pursue the sentimonster, leaving him on the rooftop.
Aglais reaches up to rub his mask. He can't decide if the conversation was fruitful or not. There's a chance she'll come at him with vengeance in the next attack. He sighs, calls the feather back, and hides away to detransform.
---
Félix reclines back on an old Chesterfield chair situated near the path of light filtering into the room. His hideout needs a bit of cleaning, he knows, but he gets too swamped to actually do it. He drapes an arm over his eyes, wondering if he'll send out an akuma or sentimonster later that day.
The past few days drained his energy. His thoughts are too messy for him to craft another scheme to get through the Order.
Footsteps by the entrance jolt him out of his seat. He keeps an eye for it as he whispers, "Nooroo. Duusu."
Félix swiftly transforms and goes up to the hallway. Only a few people know about the place, and he isn't expecting anyone. He slides open the door.
It reveals a heavily injured heroine.
"Ladybug," he breathes out.
Ladybug is propped against the wall. There's a hole torn on her suit by her shoulder—the edges look blackened. Charred. The exposed skin is cut and bleeding. A dazed look engulfs her eyes. She looks like she's fighting for consciousness. Her hair is tousled, her body is shivering, and her yoyo helplessly dangles by her waist. A quick once-over tells him that she's favoring one foot.
Aglais examines his surroundings, expecting a trap. But nothing comes out. He rushes forward to help her. "What happened?"
Her eyelids are drooping. "No . . . nowhere else . . . to go," she murmurs before collapsing in his arms.
Felix and the Cursed Alley
@felixmonth
Felix Week Day 2 (Cookie Version) | Reveal
AO3 | Masterlist
The first time was an unexpected accident. They were fresh out of an intense battle, Félix had just destransformed, and had turned by an alley. His ears picked up a faint sound: “Spots off.”
But it was too late.
His foot stepped forward as his eyes widened at a slack-jawed Ladybug in the middle of dropping her transformation. In a split second, he tried to close his eyes to somehow save the situation, but he had seen enough.
Ladybug was Marinette.
He felt two hands on his shoulders. “Did you see?” Marinette hissed.
Félix opened and closed his mouth. Should he say? Or should he not say? If it were him in her shoes, he’d think it would be fair to tell the truth. He stammered out a quick ‘yes’ while opening his eyes.
“You can’t tell anyone,” she firmly told him.
He replied with haste. “Of course I won’t.”
“I’m serious.”
“I understand the weight of knowing your identity, Marinette. It’s not a secret I will take lightly, especially when this puts a target on my back as well.”
His mind was still partly reeling at his discovery. On one hand, he felt stupid for not piecing it together earlier, while on the other, he reconciled that fact that it made sense. No one else would be fitting for the Ladybug Miraculous except for Marinette.
Fear flickered in her eyes. “Target on your back. No, no, no, no, oh no.”
Félix bit back a curse. He should not have said that.
“This is bad.” Ramblings spilled out of her mouth as she put her palms up to her cheeks. “This is really, really bad. You can’t know. You’re not supposed to know. Oh my god, should I call Prophet to help me undo this? No, it will probably trigger a catastrophe—”
“Marinette.” He gently took both her hands in his. “It’s okay. Nothing bad will happen.”
She bit on her lip. “I put you in danger.”
“It’s alright as long as Paonne doesn’t know that I know,” Félix reassured, “It’s my fault as well. I heard you detransform but I stepped into the alley.”
“No, it’s my fault. I should’ve checked first.”
He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. He knew how both Marinette and Ladybug would get anxious about the smallest of things. “Regardless, I’ll keep your secret safe.”
She heaved in a big breath. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry again. Thank you, Fé.”
---
During the second time, Félix began to dread entering narrow, deserted alleys. He was walking to school, determined to avoid paths between buildings, but was forced to take a shortcut when he realized that he was going to be late. His feet stopped and he froze from head to toe when a familiar white portal materialized in the middle of the alley.
“Whew, that was an intense all nighter. Remind me to never visit 1861 again,” Prophet yawned. “Fluff, counter-clockwise.”
The dissolution of the transformation was too quick. Félix didn’t have time to close his eyes. Again. Sibyll was handing a piece of carrot to Fluff when they made eye contact.
“Oh hell no,” she spat out. “Fluff, eat quickly.”
“Why?” The kwami pouted.
“We’re going back in time to fix this mess—” Sibyll paused. “Wait.”
Félix knew her thoughts. If she had traveled back in time to undo the revelation, it wouldn’t have happened at all. Prophet would’ve intercepted him before he could enter the alley.
“You can trust me,” he found himself saying.
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know why this happened but . . . it’s not supposed to.”
“I know. I wasn’t going to pass through here, but I’ll be late for class.”
Sibyll’s eyes widened behind her spectacles. “Shit! Class!”
Without warning, she grabbed her wrist and they started running. The hem of her blouse fluttered as they raced towards the school. He thought about suggesting to use the Rabbit Miraculous, but he knew her answer already.
She looked back at him. “If you tell anyone—”
“—I know. I’m not supposed to, and I won’t even think about it—”
“—You are dead. Like, literally dead—”
“—considering that I’m alive so far, I’d take it as a good sign.”
Sibyll scowled. “I mean it, Félix.”
He matched her stern gaze. “So do I.”
It wasn’t even the first time he had to keep a big secret.
---
After the previous incidents, Félix religiously avoided alleys. They became bad omens to him, and he didn’t want to know more than he already did. On the bright side, he had made it a habit to support Marinette and Sibyll in the shadows. He backed up their (poorly-constructed) excuses and helped them slip out of class during akuma attacks (before escaping to transform himself).
But one fateful day, the alley became inevitable.
He was caught up in a sentimonster attack. Though he could’ve gotten out on his own, Zyvern had scooped him out of the scene and carried him away.
The problem was that his choker was beeping.
They hadn’t touched the ground yet.
“Fuck—” Zyvern said as he destransformed. They both fell a few feet. Félix kept his eyes shut.
But one glance, one split-second look gave everything away. Right before he closed his eyes, Félix spotted a multicolored beaded bracelet on the hero’s wrist. The same weird accessory he knew his friend regularly wore.
He uttered the name before he could stop himself. “Zee?”
“What? Did you—you saw my bracelet, didn’t you?”
Félix wished that he would deny it. He opened his eyes, confused that Zee was acting coolly about it. “I did. Sorry,” Félix said softly.
Zee studied him with an uncharacteristic seriousness. Félix fidgeted when his friend spent a full minute looking. “You’re awfully calm about this,” Zee commented.
“You’re also calm . . .” Then it dawned on Félix. Zee wouldn’t deliberately risk his identity in front of a civilian. The fact that Zyvern detransformed in front of him proved that Zee expected it to happen.
“You did this on purpose.” Félix blinked.
Zee shrugged. “More like I don’t mind if you know. You’re trustworthy. But you didn’t answer my question.”
Félix cleared his throat. “Perhaps the shock will kick in later.”
He knew it wouldn’t.
Zee took a look at him for a few more seconds. If there was one thing that was constant about Zee, it was his perceptiveness, and Félix didn’t want to deal with any interrogation because of that.
“Aren’t you going to take care of that?” Félix deadpanned, motioning to the sentimonster rampaging in the sky.
“Right.” Zee rubbed his head. “Longg, grab your food here.”
---
After discovering Marinette, Sibyll, and Zee, his thoughts began to wander. It was dangerous to think about it deeply, but he couldn’t shake off his theories. Three of his friends were Miraculous wielders—it couldn’t be a mere coincidence.
These unwound thoughts were what accidentally led him into another alley. Félix became too absorbed in thinking that he didn’t notice that he had walked into a forbidden place. When he grasped his surroundings again, he heard two voices talking.
“I don’t know . . . my usual champions are getting tired. I have to consult new ones but I’m scared they won’t agree.”
“What if you ask the other heroes to find new civilians?”
“I don’t want to bother them.”
“What about your friends?”
“They’ll be in danger.” The voice softened to a mumble. “I don’t think they want to be champions though.”
“You can try asking! I’m sure they’ll be happy to help out.”
“What if they figure me out?”
Félix tried to hide. But Cosette fell silent, and looked towards his direction. She gasped sharply and Nooroo flew back into the pocket of her dress.
Félix could only rub his face, stunned at his own careless mistake.
Suddenly, Cosette’s face contorted, and tears started to spill from her eyes. Félix immediately rushed forward to comfort her. “Cos—Cos, wait.” He stroked her head carefully. “I didn’t see anything.”
The timid girl sniffled. “You did.”
“I didn’t.” He lied.
“They’re going to take my Miraculous away,” she cried.
He shifted from one foot to another, not knowing how to make her feel better. Usually, Zee and Marinette were the masters at calming her down. “They won’t if they don’t know that I know,” he assured. “And I won’t tell.”
Her teary eyes blinked at him. “You won’t?”
“I won’t,” he gently said. “I’ll even help you keep your identity secret.”
As he’d been doing for the rest of his friends.
Cosette wiped her reddened face. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
---
The fifth time was a close call.
Suspicions had been hounding his mind already. He found an alleyway to recharge in whilst trying to come up with a plan against the tricky sentimonsters. As he leaned against the wall, he caught a flash of gold and white in his periphery, which then radiated into a bright light, to reveal the last one of them: Haru.
His friend looked like a deer caught in headlights.
“Haru . . .” Félix started. At that point he had been used to it already. He might as well find out the identity of his last teammate. “Or should I say . . . Aurum?”
Haru coughed, sneakily trying to slip a piece of fruit to his kwami (but failing miserably). “Who’s Aurum?”
Félix gave him a look that said ‘really?’
“I’m not Aurum,” Haru pitifully denied, even throwing in awkward finger guns.
Félix nearly felt bad, pondering if he should just play along.
“There’s no use denying it,” Félix sighed. “Are you alright?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I was just escaping from the scene of the attack . . .”
“This place is too far from both your house and the school.”
“I was just . . . uhh . . . art supplies! Yeah, I’ve been canvassing oil paint.”
“You took a pretty bad hit back there.”
The involuntary wince on Haru’s face told Félix that the suit hadn’t been enough to absorb the pain. Haru dropped his frantic hands and looked down. “Listen . . .”
“I know what to do,” said Félix as if it was a memorized poem. “I know how important your secret identity is and I will not mindlessly give it away.”
---
Félix thought everything would be okay.
He only had to keep six precious secrets. He was good at hiding and pretending that everything was normal, but it turned out that his teammates (and friends) weren’t.
They perched on a random rooftop one patrol night and no one was talking. Chat Noir knew why. They were too unsettled about their identities being discovered and didn’t know how to break it to the others. It was a mess.
Crossing his arms, he broke the silence first. “What was that?”
Prophet snapped out of her reverie. “What was what?”
“There’s something wrong,” he replied.
Four heroes looked away guiltily. But Zyvern gave him a steady gaze. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Chat snorted. “Obviously, everyone seems distracted. Ladybug, you took forever to figure out your Lucky Charm earlier; Prophet, you time traveled four times; you almost lost hold of your champions, Solandis; and your illusion didn’t last five seconds, Aurum.”
“We’re just a bit out of it today, that’s all.” Ladybug smiled stiffly. “Maybe everyone’s tired?”
But Chat knew, deep in his mind, that it wasn’t a one-time thing. They would continue to be out of sync, and it was all because of his discovery.
“Not only today.” He shook his head. “I know what’s bothering you all—”
Aurum jolted. “How—”
“And I’m going to settle this. Claws in.”
As he revealed himself, the others were consumed with shock. Félix massaged the bridge of his nose. “Now will you please talk it out right now.”
Prophet looked back and forth between him and the others. “Do you mean you also found out . . .?”
“Yes, everyone’s.”
“Everyone’s?” Ladybug squeaked. “How did that even happen?”
His cheeks burned. “It started with the alley . . .”
