Lucanis gifts Rook a hazelnut torte for the first time.
—– ♡ —–
Lucanis wiped his brow, slick with sweat after standing in front of the kitchen fire. He gave the paella one last taste, before quietly nodding in approval of his own handy work. He turned off the stove and moved the pot off the hot burner. After a few minutes of rest, dinner would be ready to serve.
He heard the dining room door open just as he bent down to pull out the torte. From the light movements he could tell it was Rook. A small smile bloomed on his face and Spite stirred in the depths of their shared mind.
Rook. Smells like lavender and peppermint.
“You plan on standing over there forever?” Lucanis asked, unable to keep the warmth out of his voice.
“Just taking in the heavenly smell,” Rook walked over to him. “What is it?”
“Paella. Well two of them, one without seafood for Emmrich.”
“I can’t wait,” Rook all but drooled. Her eyes then landed on the torte, and she looked at Lucanis with expectant eyes.
“And hazelnut torte for dessert. It pairs well with coffee.”
Rook’s eyes went wide, and her cheeks began to warm. “Wait. Did you make dessert just for me?”
Lucanis smiled wryly, “There’s enough for everyone.”
“Still, they don’t all love coffee like I do,” Rook beamed.
“They won’t complain.” His voice came out lower than he expected, more rough and heated. Rook reacted to that, a flush crept along her cheeks. Lucanis loved that he was the one who affected her this way.
“You didn’t have to do anything special for me.”
His gaze narrowed, and his smile was replaced with a more serious look. “Yes, I did. I still don’t know how to apologise for… everything. I had to do something to thank you after everything you’ve done for me.”
“Lucanis, I don’t know what to say.” Rook beamed and reached out her hand. He took it easily, craving her touch more than ever before. As he threaded his fingers through her own, he was suddenly aware just how clammy his hands were. He had been cooking, and the anticipation of presenting the dessert to Rook had left him nervous. If she had noticed, she didn’t seem to mind. She was looking at their hands with the brightest smile he’d ever seen.
“You made dessert, just for me.”
“It’s nothing, or not enough.”
Lucanis couldn’t help it. It would never feel like enough. Not after everything she’d done for him, not after everything he had been trained to do. He was a Mage Killer, and Abomination. She deserved more. So, so much more.
“It is,” she said firmly, catching him off guard. He looked up and she held his gaze, firm and resolute. “And you are.” Rook squeezed his hand, and after a beat a slow smile bloomed on his face, and he squeezed back. “I’ll have you know, I’m very easily bribed.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he chuckled, and Rook’s grin grew wide once more.
“Can I have a slice?”
“Now?”
Rook pulled away and walked to the torte, making a show of taking in the delicious smell. Lucanis was glad that he had only just taken it out of the oven, the rich chocolate smell lingered, enveloping them both.
“Yes please. You made it for me and I want to savour it before the others get here.”
Lucanis smiled warmly, “Of course, Rook.”
He took the torte to the kitchen bench and confidently made a show of lifting up his knife with a flourish. This, this he could do. He was in his element, and Rook seemed to enjoy seeing him in it, eyes never leaving his hands. He presented a plate with a small slice for her.
“Is this enough?”
“Perfect, thank you.” Rook grabbed the plate from him and cut through the torte with the spoon. Lucanis held his breath, until she finally took her first bite. Then… she moaned.
Rook made a noise Lucanis had never heard come out from her mouth before. It was soft, sensual and full of want. He had elicited that from her. A electric current ran through him and his heart beat so loudly he was certain Rook was able to hear it. It scared him how much he wanted to hear her make that noise. More, and more and more.
Fuck, he thought. This is bad.
Why bad? Spite questioned, he paced around Rook as she took another bite. Rook is happy. This is good.
“Gods Lucanis, this is so freaking good.”
“Really?” He asked, grateful for the question so that he wouldn’t have to answer Spite. The demon kept mumbling to himself, thankfully content to be perplexed on his own for once.
Rook likes it. We help Rook.
Rook nodded, “Yes, my Gods. Here have a taste.”
She lifted her spoon up to him and he glanced. Surely she must know what this would do to him. Nevertheless, he was fast finding he could never say no to her.
He took a bite from the spoon and smiled as the flavours exploded in his mouth. It was nutty and chocolatey, with a hint of apricot to break through the rich flavour. Emmrich had done him an amazing favour by sharing this recipe, Lucanis wasn’t going to forget it anytime soon.
His tongue darted out to lick a crumb off his bottom lip and he didn’t miss how Rook’s eyes widened with that action. She suddenly looked heated, and much more intense than before.
“It’s good.”
“Really good.”
Lucanis swallowed hard, desire shooting through him as she looked at him with those kind, violet eyes. “You-You’re welcome.” He backed away, unsure if he was ready for what came next. Instead of allowing his thoughts to wander about how good she would feel pressed up to him, he moved to the sink to wash his knife.
If Rook was disappointed by his actions, she didn’t show it. Instead, she finished her slice in silence, humming in delight every now and then. When there was not a crumb left on her plate, he reached over to take it from her. She handed it to him and closed the gap between them, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. It was quick, but long enough for Lucanis to take in just how soft her lips were. Softer than he could have ever imagined. They felt so good, so right there just above his beard. It was perfect.
“I’m happy to go slow if you are,” she whispered against him before pulling away. She was smiling, warm and kind.
“If that is enough for you,” echoes of disappointment raged through his head. Spite grumbled in annoyance at his own internal chatter, that he wasn’t Illario. He couldn’t sweep her off her feet and take her right here and now like she probably wanted.
She grabbed his hand again, her thumb stroking his knuckles. “Lucanis, you will always be enough for me.”
His heart sped up, fluttering with nerves, joy and the one emotion he couldn’t dare name because it was too soon. Way too soon. Instead, he allowed himself to be emboldened by her declaration, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before kissing her forehead.
So I wanna talk a little bit about Keith’s personal growth as a leader and how grounded he is this season, because I absolutely love it and how it shows how his recovery from personal trauma through the development of a strong relationship with his mother helped him mature in ways that he might not have been able to achieve without her presence.
“I left you once. I’ll never leave you again,” Krolia says when she meets Keith, and though he doesn’t know it at the time, she means it— and she stays. It’s the start of the establishment of a foundation and the kind of solid relationship Keith has never once had in his life, that’s going to change his life forever.
Because Keith is the product of the kind of emotional trauma and abandonment that you wouldn’t want to wish on your worst enemy, and despite his natural talent as a paladin, his drive, and his focus, it isn’t until he has a chance to reconnect with his mother and heal the holes and gaps he’s had in his life that he’s truly able to unlock the potential and confidence that has been buried within him until now.
From the very beginning, Keith is a character of few words, who’s a bit of a mystery and far more a young man of action. He doesn’t talk about his past, he doesn’t talk about his family, he doesn’t talk about who he is or where he came from— all we know is that Shiro has been in his life for a long time and that without him there, his life would have been very different.
Over time, we find out that all of this has to do with the fact that he doesn’t actually have any answers to who he is. He was orphaned at a young age. His mother left before he even knew her. The only thing he has to go on is his relationship to Shiro and now, his duty as a Paladin. There’s a fundamental void of information there; no core foundation he can fall back on to explain who he is, why he is the way he is, or where he came from.
Essentially, Keith is a character whose life has constantly been in flux; the only thing he’s ever known to do is to live in survival mode; and so, he has carved a life out of the only things he knows he can hold onto.
Until the two years he spends alone with Krolia to recalibrate and reflect, the primary way Keith identifies himself is through his relationship with Shiro and his role as a Paladin, because those two things are the only source of consistency he’s ever had in his life. Without those two things, he doesn’t know who he is and he doesn’t know his purpose in life.
When either of those identities are threatened, his entire sense of self identity is completely unended, and things go south really fast. This imbalance puts him at a strong disadvantage and is a big reason why he loses sight of his goals or loses control multiple times:
The Garrison: Though we haven’t seen details for this, we can assume that it was the news of the failure of the Kerberos Mission that resulted in Keith ‘washing out’ of the Garrison— his grief and feeling of loss is so strong that he acts out and is forced to leave. With Shiro gone (and presumably dead), it’s like Keith has no reason to even try or stay. And so he doesn’t. It’s when Shiro crash lands back on Earth that he taps back in and is once again motivated and ready to go; even though he’s been doing his own research on the Blue Lion, it’s Shiro’s reappearance that sort of sets the whole thing off as a group effort, whereas before, he was going about it completely alone.
The Blade of Marmora: This is not a failure- it’s more of a choice that he makes, and though it’s ultimately the right one, it is indicative of where Keith’s priorities ultimately lie. Keith spends literal months trying to figure out where his knife came from, and when he discovers the Blade, he goes through a trial of fire to unlock its secrets, only to readily give it up when he is told his only option is to either choose the blade or to choose Shiro. He chooses Shiro without a doubt. There’s no question in his mind. But even later, when he chooses to be a member of the Blade and leaves Voltron behind, he can’t 100% get behind the ethos of the Blade, as it conflicts with the moral values of Voltron—which prevents him from becoming a fully integrated Blade the way he’s supposed to be. He recognizes this and is uneasy with it, but it’s not until Krolia shows up in his life and he realizes that it’s okay to be his own person and to follow his own moral code.
Piloting the Black Lion: When Keith is initially chosen to pilot the Black Lion, it just doesn’t sit well with him. He can’t accept his responsibility or his new role; he feels as though he’s replacing Shiro, and he just can’t come to terms with it at all. He’s the red paladin, not the black paladin; Shiro is the leader of Voltron, not him. Despite Shiro’s previous efforts to encourage and prepare Keith in the event of something like this happening, he still can’t accept the mantle of responsibility in his new role- doing so would mean accepting that things have permanently changed for Voltron, and Keith is unwilling to do that. And so once it seems like Shiro’s back in action, Keith decides to leave and pursue a longer mission with the Blade of Marmora. Because now even though Shiro is back, his role as a Paladin is no longer clear, especially when ‘Shiro’- who we now know was actually a clone-?questions his judgment and instincts. This is because at this point in his life, Keith is still not confident about his ability to lead, even though he has already proven himself both worthy and capable, if not completely experienced as a leader. He doesn’t question Shiro, doesn’t question whether his instincts are the right one. And so, once again, Keith must recalibrate, find some sort of purpose, and he does so by leaving the team completely to go off on his own.
As you can see, all of these choices that Keith makes are in relation to his relationship with Shiro or his role as a Paladin. And in context, it makes sense that he would make these choices, based on the information he has and his experiences up to this point. He’s restless and unsatisfied, filled with the turmoil of uncertainty of just not knowing what the whole point of it all is. Because if everything falls apart, what does Keith have left?
Nothing, as far as he knows. Keith has no foundation.
No wonder he doesn’t want to pilot the Black Lion. No wonder he doesn’t know who he is without the guidance of his best friend and mentor. No wonder he’s afraid to say or do anything that will alienate the only people he has left in his life.
And then comes Krolia, back into his life, his own mother, a fellow Blade, a Warrior, and someone who knows exactly what it means to have to make tough choices in tough times.
Growth and maturity is without a doubt a combination of nature and nurture. Until this point, Keith has been functioning primarily through his own natural instincts and the mentorship of Shiro— which, while fundamental to his personal growth, is not at all the same thing as the guidance of an actual parent, whose relationship and personal motivations are different from that of someone who really isn’t that much older than you.
It changes everything.
For the first time in his life, Keith doesn’t have to make life or death decisions every day of his life. He doesn’t have to make decisions for a group of people he considers family but isn’t 100% sure he belongs to, doesn’t have to prove his worth to a fellowship of warriors.
He just gets some time, with his own mother, to just be.
For someone who has gone through that level of trauma, that is so healing and therapeutic just by itself.
As the creators themselves have mentioned, these two years allowed Keith to have a genuine bonding experience with his own mother, who understands his perspective in a way nobody else ever possibly could. It gives him perspective. It gives him focus.
There’s a certainty and a groundedness about Keith when he returns, and I can’t help but wonder just how many glimpses of the future Keith saw, and how many memories of the past it was juxtaposed against.
Over two years, both of them would have seen multiple glimpses of past and future. Sitting on the back of the space whale with nothing else to do, Keith would have had the chance to talk through these memories with his mother, to just sit and process the events of his life with an impartial (and loving) person in his life who is truly invested in his personal emotional growth.
We know for certain that he had two years to ruminate over his eventual confrontation with Shiro, though he didn’t know what it would bring, and it’s almost certain that he would have talked about it with Krolia, and he ultimately is prepared and calm when the time finally comes to face him.
It’s a stark contrast compared to when Keith goes through the Blade of Marmora trials, when we get a glimpse into his deepest fears. Shiro confirms the worst inner fears he has about himself and it cuts him to the core, even though it’s just a hologram.
He immediately reverses course:
Compare to now:
Keith is completely and utterly unfazed.
Even though ‘Shiro’ is saying crueler, meaner things than ever before, Keith has not only been waiting for this and anticipating it for two years, he has no reason to believe a single word. His mother has been by his side, proving every word of it wrong.
Keith’s only resolve now is to bring Shiro back with him. He knows the truth. He no longer has any inner conflicts that could even make him for a second consider that the cruel words being thrown at him could have even an iota of truth.
He is dauntless now. Because he finally has a foundation.
And in the end, he confidently leads the battle against Lotor and has no hesitation in stepping into the role he was always meant to play, but wasn’t quite ready before.
With his mother (and his cosmic wolf!) by his side, Keith is far more mature, confident, and ready to take on his responsibilities as the leader of Voltron.
chapter title: these wings were made to fly
words: 4.2k
story summary: What’s a ladybug to do when her kitten becomes a cat?
chapter summary: In which there are some unexpected conversations with unexpected people.
Honest to god, I have a plan for this story, but lord knows where my motivation and inspiration are hiding. That said, I'm hoping to get this one wrapped up soon! There are chapters I've had planned since last summer that I haven't gotten to...so hopefully this summer you'll finally get to experience them. :'D
AO3 | FF
Ladybug slowly removes her hands from her ears once it appears that Chloe is finally done screaming. For a moment, she wonders if perhaps this wasn't the best idea, but it's too late now. It's clear that Chloe is 100% on board for whatever they're going to ask her to do, even though she has no idea what they want.
Chloe is practically leaping in ecstasy as she rushes to get her laptop and phone, at the ready and prepared to help Ladybug and Chat Noir in any way that they need. It's been far too long since she's had a chance to prove her value to her favorite superhero.
This request is also particularly important as it has only been a week since she accidentally caused another akuma (really, it wasn't her fault the ridiculous hairdresser her father hired for her was incompetent at her job and that she actually thought a perm would be a good look for the likes of Mademoiselle Bourgeois), she is eager to prove that she can indeed help the heroes of Paris. In a way that they will be sure to appreciate.
“I am so excited you finally decided to come to me for help! I’ll be the best hero ever. I can get a proper suit made, we can get special bluetooth communicators— it’s going to be oh so perfect! Speaking of which, don't think I didn't notice all of the changes you made to your suit, Ladybug. I love it. I've always wondered why you didn't have wings. It only makes sense. You're a Ladybug, for crying out loud." She gestures at Chat Noir. "After all, a ladybug without wings would be like a cat without ears.”
She continues to dance around the room for several minutes, gathering items from her cosplay closet and from her makeup boxes until she realizes that neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir are saying anything. She whirls around.
“Wait, I didn’t even ask you. What do you need my help with? Is it for a mission? Do you need money? Power? Influence? An invitation to the most exclusive parties in Paris? I have access to everything you could ever want or need."
She knows she's babbling, but something about the intense way the two of them are staring at her is starting to make her a little nervous. Though she would never admit it. Chloe Bourgeois does not get intimidated by anyone, even her favorite superheroes.
Well, superhero. Chat Noir isn't that great. A true hero would actually help a damsel in distress and rescue her from doing ghastly physics homework. Like darling Adrien would. Even though he's been ignoring her calls more often lately, the rude boy.
"What? What is it? Is there something wrong? Do I need Daddy to help too?"
Ladybug bites her lips and slowly exhales. This, for some reason, makes Chloe even more nervous than before.
“Well, Chloe— it has to do with Adrien,” she says, her voice low and careful. “And what the press thinks is going on between us.”
Chloe feels her heart sinking into her stomach. It’s a curious feeling. Though she is still excited that they want her help, this is not what she expected.
“Oh. I see,” she says, taking care to sound calm and detached, above any emotional connections. Haughty.
“And what exactly do you expect me to do about it? Adrien hasn’t spoken to me at all about this. Does he know you’re here?”
Ladybug and Chat Noir exchange secretive glances that clearly mean something — Chloe has no idea what — and Ladybug slowly nods.
“Yes. He does.”
Chloe raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms. “Okay...and?”
Chat Noir steps forward. “He agreed it would be a good idea to ask you for advice. He said you would know how to help us — I mean, Ladybug and him — deal with the press and deflect their attention.”
Chloe turns back to Ladybug. “Look, if I’m going to help you, I need to know what the deal is. Are you really dating each other? Or did the tabloids just see the pictures from the photoshoot and start building rumors out of thin air? As I’m sure you know, he and I are very close. But I haven’t asked him anything about you, out of respect for his privacy.”
This isn’t entirely true. Chloe has mostly refrained from asking Adrien about what his status with Ladybug is out of a very strange feeling of jealousy that has consumed her ever since she saw the first tabloid headline about them together. She’s not sure who she’s more jealous of— Ladybug, Adrien, both of them, perhaps— it’s all very confusing, and both Sabrina and the internet have been of absolutely no use at all.
Ladybug pauses. “It’s a little hard to explain.”
“What’s so hard about it?” presses Chloe, raising an eyebrow. “Either you’re together, or you’re not.”
“Yes, we’re together...but it’s not...how do I put it—”
Chloe is starting to get annoyed, though she still wants to be respectful. “But what? What is it?”
“We’re—we’re in an open relationship!” Ladybug blurts out. “Yes! That’s it. An open relationship. No strings attached.”
“An...open relationship?” repeats Chloe. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Um, essentially...we’re not exclusive?”
“Oh. I see. That is...very interesting.”
All the pieces start coming together as she considers this very unexpected piece of information. If they’re not exclusive, that means there is a third person or possibly even a fourth person in the equation.
Chloe runs through everyone in her social circle. Perhaps it’s a stranger. Perhaps it’s not.
And then it occurs to her that the answer might be standing right in front of her.
She turns an appraising eye to Chat Noir. Who she has also noticed has suddenly gotten much taller than before. Personally, she’s not a fan. He practically looks like a giant now. Have his hands gotten even bigger? It’s ridiculous. He’s supposed to be a cat, not a mountain lion.
But then again, perhaps Ladybug is interested in that sort of thing.
She inclines her head towards him.
“Is he ….part of your... arrangement ?”
Ladybug’s eyes grow wide. “Chat Noir? I, um—well, I would rather not discuss details...”
“Then I can’t help you,” answers Chloe, crossing her arms. “Either you tell me all your dirty laundry or I can't help you avoid the nosy press at all. I can't develop a strategy without ”
“I knew this would be a bad idea,” Ladybug mutters under her breath, turning away.
“It’s a delicate matter, Mademoiselle Bourgeois,” cuts in Chat Noir, stepping forward and looking back and forth between the two girls. “But if My Lady doesn’t want to share details, I do ask that you respect her wishes.”
Chloe scowls. It’s clear that playing hardball won’t help her get any details that will help her figure out what’s going on. She bites her lip as she wonders what strategy she can possibly use next to get some sort of information. Ladybug and Chat Noir are naive to think they’re being subtle about the fact that there’s something going on between the two of them as well, but the subtle tension between them is hardly something Chloe can leverage as proof.
A not so quiet part of her mind urges her to indicate her own interest in Ladybug, but she pushes it away. Now is not the time to proposition her hero, as much as she’s secretly fantasized about it. No, she needs to wait for the right moment...ideally when Chat Noir isn’t standing in between them.
She gulps as she realizes Ladybug is staring at her with narrowed eyes. Merde , she’s been quiet too long.
“Chloe, if you’re thinking about how to blackmail us—if I have any reason to believe you’re going to make trouble for us—”
“I would never!” she gasps, raising her arms and stepping back. “Adrien is one of my oldest friends. I would never betray his trust like that.”
Ladybug nods, though her expression is still uncertain. “Okay. I will choose to trust you. For now.”
“Well, you’re the one who burst in here,” Chloe replies, a little more testily than intended. “I should be the one wondering whether to trust you.”
Ladybug opens her mouth, presumably to deliver a pointed retort, but to Chloe’s surprise, she just as quickly shuts it and steps back, turning around to face the window.
Chloe can see her reflection in the glass panels. She looks somber.
“Look. Adrien has a special connection with me, but there's someone else in his life too, someone who can't be seen in public with him thanks to his association with me. The last thing he wants is for her to be hounded by the press or for her privacy to be invaded.”
Chloe nods. “I understand.”
“Actually, what we really want is for the press to stop pressing him about his personal life at any given moment, but I realize that’s never going to happen.”
Ladybug turns back around to face Chloe.
“I wanted us to handle this on our own. But it would be unwise not to talk to someone who's handled press like this before. And you're the first person I thought of. So tell me, Chloe. What would you do in a situation like this? What...does your father do?”
Chloe thinks about the endless parade of women that have come through her father’s mansion ever since her parents separated. Women that the press has never heard of, because whenever there was a chance of being found out, her father would do two things: a) create a public distraction; and b) disappear from the public eye on a short holiday in a place where the French tabloids couldn’t find him, long enough for them to find some celebrity story more interesting than his. It is a strategy that has worked for the past thirteen years, and is likely to work as long as the tabloids continue to have a short memory.
So this is the advice that she imparts.
Ladybug stares dubiously at Chloe.
“You think we should create a ‘public distraction’? Akumas are public distractions. Holiday parades are public distractions. What you’re suggesting sounds a lot like a public relations stunt. And not a good one.”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong about that,” Chloe drawls in her insufferably smug way. “I’m just saying that if you want the press to fixate on something else, you have to give them something to fixate on .”
“And you think that Chat Noir posing for a sexy photoshoot is the right kind of bait?!”
“Come on, Ladybug. Look at your partner. Who wouldn’t want to stare at him? He’s delicious to look at now.”
Ladybug curls her lip in disgust. “Ugh, don’t describe him like that. You make him sound like a piece of meat to be devoured by hungry gold diggers looking for fifteen minutes of fame.”
Chloe scowls. “That’s the point! You want people to be fixated on him. Everyone’s been paying so much attention to you ever since your little photoshoot in the mountains that they haven’t even noticed how Chat Noir has been changing physically along with you.”
“Why does that even matter?! Of course we’re changing. We were never going to stay children forever.”
“Listen. You want to know about distractions? This is the best distraction you’ve got, standing right in front of you, and willing to do whatever he needs to do to make you happy, judging from how he looks at you. He’s become a handsome young bachelor overnight. Or are you afraid to share the spotlight?”
Ladybug shakes her head. “I’m not afraid of anything. What I’m afraid of is taking your suggestions at face value and then regretting the consequences. We’re not doing this.”
Chloe shrugs. “Unless you have any better ideas, Adrien and his secret civilian companion won’t be able to step out together in public without getting noticed. But maybe that’s secretly what you want, anyway. To keep him to yourself. You’re more selfish than I thought, Ladybug.”
“Excuse me, Mademoiselle Bourgeois, for thinking your idea is ridiculous. I didn’t realize the only suggestion you could give us would be this. How can I, in good conscience, ask my own partner to willingly subject himself to the same kind of objectification I’m experiencing myself? I refuse to be a hypocrite like that.”
“Actually, it’s not the same thing at all. And, I might add, the final choice is with Chat Noir, not you. You might be the leader of your duo, but he can make his own choices.”
“I’m sure he agrees with me. Come on, mon chaton , let’s go. This was a bad idea.”
Without another word, Ladybug slips out of the window and disappears into the night.
To Chloe’s surprise, Chat Noir doesn’t immediately follow Ladybug, choosing instead to linger for a few moments before he finally leaves without saying a word.
For some reason, Chloe feels like there's something he wants to ask her, but can’t.
She doesn't quite know what to make of the feeling, and decides ultimately to ignore it.
Close to midnight, Chloe is about to fall asleep, when a dark shadow reappears outside her room.
Common sense tells her to scream, but instinct tells her that it’s someone she knows.
When she parts the curtains, she learns that her instinct was right: it’s Chat Noir, who has presumably returned to talk about whatever it was he couldn’t talk about in front of Ladybug.
She lets him in with a yawn.
“So, you’re back,” she says. “Did you change your mind about helping me with physics homework after all? It’s a little later for that.”
He snorts. “Ever the opportunist.”
“Are you really surprised?”
“Not at all,” he says, laughing in an oddly familiar way, and Chloe gets the strange feeling that she’s had a conversation like this with him before.
“But no. That’s not why I’m here.”
“I know there was something you wanted to say before you left a few hours ago. What was it?”
“You’re more observant that I realized.”
“Of course I am,” she retorts. “I’m a politician’s daughter. It’s my responsibility to be the most observant girl in the room.”
Chat Noir raises an eyebrow and his lips curl up into a grin that is just a little too smug for Chloe’s liking.
“Is that right? Interesting.”
“If there’s a joke, I’d like to be in on it,” she responds, curt once again. “Otherwise, get to the point. You’re cutting into my precious beauty sleep.”
Chat Noir nods and leans against the window.
“Ok. I have to be honest with you. It was Ladybug’s idea to come here. She genuinely wanted your help—”
“Obviously!”
“Please, let me finish.”
Chloe flushes with embarrassment. She doesn’t usually care about coming across as rude, but for some reason, this feels a little different.
“I’m sorry. Go on.”
“Even though she didn’t understand why you were suggesting what you did, I do. And I’m ready to go through with it.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The sexy photoshoot. I’m ready to do it.”
“Did you come here just to tell me that?” asks Chloe, confused.
Char Noir’s voice is steady. “No. I came here to explain why.”
And then, in a flash of green, Chat Noir is gone. In his place stands someone Chloe thought she knew well, but it’s clear that she doesn’t know at all.
“Adrichou? You’re Chat Noir?!”
Though he often feels the desire to do so, Adrien Agreste has rarely acted on impulse or instinct. Thanks to his overprotective parents, he has always followed the rules.
It’s only after becoming Chat Noir that he’s learned the benefits of taking calculated risks, and while he still doesn’t take too many when he doesn’t have the shield of his all-concealing disguise, he’s learned to listen to that inner instinct that tells him to do things his father would consider ill-advised and unreasonable.
And although he’s sure that even Ladybug would think what he’s doing is crazy, when he looks into Chloe’s eyes as she advises them on how to avoid the tabloids and what to do to keep them from finding out about their private lives, he can’t help but feel like in the process, she’s sharing details about her own life that he has always been vaguely aware of, but which he has never spoken to her about.
Because they’re not the kind of friends she likes to pretend they are, and they haven’t been, for a very long time. The Chloe Bourgeois he knew as a child is not the selfish, self-absorbed girl standing in front of him now. And yet something about the tiny sliver of honesty he can feel in her words is what compels him to share the truth about his identity with her, to help her understand why Ladybug has come to her for help, why they believe that she has the answers that nobody else will have.
Anyone else would tell him he's being irrational; and in truth, it's not like Chloe has done anything to merit his trust over the past few years. And yet instinct is telling him that this is the right thing to do.
He knows he can't reveal himself while Ladybug is still there, so he waits until she's gone. But even then, at first, he fights the instinct. It's not the right time; it's not the right moment.
He comes back at midnight, and before he can second guess himself, he de-transforms.
Ready to face the consequences, not matter what they may be.
If he's honest with himself, Adrien doesn't know what to expect from Chloe. But it's obvious that this is the last thing she was expecting herself, as she stands in front of him, jaw practically on the floor.
“You’re dating Ladybug,” she whispers. A question, not a statement. "And someone else at the same time. I don't understand."
He can only share his truth; not his lady’s. So even as he shares the deepest secret of his life, he lies.
“I would say ‘friends with benefits’ is a better way to describe the relationship between Ladybug and me," he replies. The lie falls off his tongue like silk.
Chloe shakes her head. "Of everyone I know, you're the last person I would ever have expected to have a friends with benefits relationship with anyone. I always thought you were a romantic. I guess I was wrong."
"Neither of us know each other as well as we used to, Chloe," says Adrien. "We haven't been honest with each other for a very long time."
She cuts her eyes away. "Can you blame me? I don't have much of an incentive to be honest with anyone in my life. I don't know who I can trust."
"It's not just that. It's hard to be friends with someone who acts unkind to almost everyone."
"Really? Did you come here to lecture me? Because I don't need to listen to you. I know what I'm doing, and why. Judge me all you want, but at the end of the day, both you and Ladybug came here to ask me for advice. And if you're going to criticize me after all of that, it makes you a hypocrite, not me."
Adrien shakes his head. "No, Chloe. That's not why I came here tonight. The reason I came here tonight is to talk to you about the other person in my life, because you know who she is."
"I don't understand."
"The other person in my life is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and without your help, we can’t go anywhere together without the press questioning our every move. Since they think Ladybug and I are dating, if they see me on a date with Marinette, there will be a lot of uncomfortable questions that neither she nor I will be able to answer.”
"Why the hell would I want to help Marinette Dupain-Cheng?! " screeches Chloe. "Does she know about your secret identity too?!"
"No, she doesn't know," Adrien immediately cuts in smoothly. "Ladybug is aware of her, however, and he wants us to be able to be together in public."
“And Marinette doesn’t mind competing against a literal superheroine for your heart?”
“You’d be surprised. She has an open mind.”
Chloe narrows her eyes and considers him again. "I thought I knew you, Adrien Agreste, but it's clear that you're hiding a lot more than anyone knows. And god knows Marinette has far more patience than I would.”
"Listen," he replies. "When you were giving us that advice earlier? I know you were talking about everything that's happened with your father over the years. I know the press hasn't caught on at all, but it's obvious that you're speaking from experience when you talk about distracting the press so they don't know who you're spending time with. And I also know you haven't seen your mother in years."
"You don't know anything," Chloe hisses, eyes flashing angrily. "And don't bring my mother into this. I haven't brought yours into this discussion at all."
"I'm sorry. But the point is, I want to make sure you understand that I understand that finding privacy is incredibly difficult when you're a public figure. I've been living that struggle for years. And you know that. You know what it's like to have to pretend to be one way at school and another way at home, to put on a facade of happiness and being put together, and to keep the people who are important to you close to your chest and away from public view."
"What's your point?"
"My point is, that's how Marinette is for me. She's...she's precious to me. I don't want her to get hurt. I don't want anyone to get hurt. Not my lady, not Marinette, not my family...and I needed you to understand why this matters to me on multiple levels. And if it takes a racy photoshoot as Chat Noir to get the heat off Ladybug and attention off me as Adrien Agreste, then I'm willing to do it."
Chloe presses her lips together and frowns.
"It was different when I thought Chat Noir was someone else. Now that I know that he's you, I don't think it's the best idea, Adrichou. What if someone else finds out? What will your father say if he finds out?"
"Don't worry about that. If he hasn't found out who I am in the past three years, he's not about to discover my secret identity anytime soon. But I have to do this for Marinette and My Lady."
Chloe rolls her eyes. "You can't just pose for a sexy photoshoot to protect your girlfriend from the press. You have to have some sort of reason."
"Come on, I'm a superhero in a skintight black catsuit. I haven't leveraged this at all. I'm sure the public is just waiting to see my wild side, now that I'm a handsome young bachelor, as you put it," replies Adrien with a smirk.
"You know, I've seen video of when I was akumatized as Antibug, and I'm pretty sure I called you lame. I still stand by that statement."
Adrien grins. "Maybe. But I still think you should get me a shoot in the raciest magazine in Paris."
"Excuse me? Do I look like an agent to you? Schedule your own photoshoot!"
"Shame. I was under the impression you were connected to everyone in Paris. But I guess I can ask someone else to book me for a shoot. Maybe Nino can help me. I'm sure he'd love to help one of the coolest superheroes in Paris."
"Nino Lahiffe is a hipster and wouldn't be able to identify a single magazine that actually mattered if he tried."
"I suppose I could ask Alya to feature me on the Ladyblog as well. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."
"Absolutely not. If you want to do this effectively, you can't go through a blog , you have to go through a legitimate publication."
"Wow, Chloe, you know so much."
"Of course I do. This is my bread and butter. How else am I supposed to help my father navigate the nasty world of the press?"
After like 2 months I actually wrote something again. I feel rough, and out of practice, but it feels good to be getting the figurative pen to paper. A little intro of my Rook, Nadia, below:
The dim glow of the aquarium pulled Nadia Mercar from her slumber. Everyday she awoke amongst the Faded fishes, swimming amongst the world of dreams. She didn't know how Lucanis did it for over a year. It had only been a matter of weeks for her, and she still felt unnerved by the water that surrounded her.
Except for him it was real. Nadia though as she got out of bed, pulling a fresh set of clothes out of her dresser.
Hers?
It felt odd to claim this room as her own. It was clearly the Dread Wolf's space, never in a thousand years would she have thought of creating a meditation chamber. But she supposed if the Dread Wolf had claimed her head, she was entitled to what was his own, especially when it bent to her will.
Prompt taken from the Grapefruit Sky Inktober prompts!
Fandom: Stardew Valley
Characters: The Bus, the Juminos
Pairing: N/A
Rating: G
Broken, forgotten, left in the dust. Who knows how many moons I’ve been abandoned for. Occasionally the man in the newsboy hat comes and checks on me. A quick wash here, an oil change there. But it never works. I cough and splutter, forever stuck. Pam is devastated. We used to go on these long rides, to the desert and beyond. But now? Those days are long gone.
Then it happened. It was one of those long, unbearable, winter nights, the cold particularly biting with my engine being dormant. I hear them before I see them. Soft squeaks and murmurs make their way closer. I can’t tell you from where though. The noises sound close and far at the same time. This isn’t any animal I’d heard before. Suddenly, a small, round, green animal appears on my dashboard. They are a curious thing, with tiny stick-like arms, short stubby feet and a little stem sticking out of it’s head. It’s wide, doe like eyes look straight into my soul.
Don’t worry… We fix…
Two more of the round creatures are on my dashboard. And four on my seats. Another three outside. They continue to appear, with a small pop each time they arrive. Magic radiates from them, first warming me up, then repairing my engine, and finally giving me a good clean. I’m sparkling by the time they finished with me, more so than I ever have, even when I was brand new. When they turn on my engine, I roar to life. I give myself a little rev, just to make sure it’s all real. And it is. My music starts blasting, my wind screen wipers slide clean across and my tires grip the road tightly.
I’m alive.
The little creatures jump up and down, celebrating as they squeak to each other. One by one, they leave, with the same pop noise as before. Finally it’s just the small green one again, left of my dashboard. They push my horn, and give one last jump in glee as it reverberates through the night. Then they’re gone.
No one knows how it happened. The man with the newsboy hat is bewildered, almost angry. Other townsfolk have come to poke at my engine, but they can’t figure it out. Pam doesn’t care, she’s just happy to be back in the drivers seat, delighted we’re reunited. And I’m happy to be on the road again, warm and buzzing with life. As I was meant to be.
I'm going the multi prompt list and multi fandom this year! Basically this is my way of showing I have to many ideas and I can't commit to one, so I'm going to try them all! Will I succeed or crash any burn? Let's find out together!
Prompt taken from the Grapefruit Sky Inktober prompts!
Fandom: Stardew Valley
Characters: Reshmi Lavari (my farmer), Morris
Pairing: N/A
Rating: M (CW: Swears, anxiety, corporate burnout, corporate guilt, mentions of a shitty ex)
The warm spring rain surrounded Reshmi, as she stood outside the stark white building on the furthermost corner of town. She gripped her umbrella tightly. Not even the gentle pitter patter of rain hitting her umbrella could sooth her in this state. She’d manage to avoid shopping at the local JojaMart for two months now, but after her Grandfather’s old toaster died this morning, Reshmi knew she couldn’t avoid it any longer.
You can do this, Resh. Just run in, grab the damn thing, and run out.
A cold blast of air greeted her as the automatic doors opened. Reshmi shielded her eyes from the harsh white light that lit up the store. Each JojaMart store was engineered in the exact same way, to get customers to spend as much as possible in the shortest amount of time. After fifty years of operating, JojaCorp had it down to an exact science. A science that Reshmi herself had helped push all across the country thorough her work with the legal team. The generic pop music that was playing in the background was interrupted by DJ Joja to let customers know that there was a limited time sale going on in aisle three. Reshmi watched as customers curiously wandered over, in an almost zombie like state, driven by the desire for a bargain. A shiver ran down her back. She swallowed the guilt she felt bubbling in her chest, and made her way to the appliance aisle.
The toaster was easy enough to find. While she hated to admit it, JojaMart really did have shockingly low prices. Driving to Grampleton and buying this same model at the local homewares store would have cost almost double if she counted the money needed for petrol. As soon as the farm did well enough, she was buying her new stove from a local retailer. She had to. With her new found resolve and guilt abated just a little, Reshmi made her way to the checkout queue. While waiting for the lone cashier to scan through the people in front of her, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“I can help you with that if you like.” A short man with glasses, and neatly swept back black hair grinned at her. He wore a full three piece suit and an obnoxious red tie. Reshmi mentally rolled her eyes, this had to be the manager. She nodded and the man led her to the customer service desk and scanned through the toaster. Reshmi pulled out her card to pay, but the man just grinned wider. “You’re the new Farmer aren’t you?”
Great, he’s chatty. Reshmi nodded, keeping her face as neutral as possible.
“I knew it, you’ve been the talk of the town for a few weeks now.” He held his hand out. “Name’s Morris, I’m the manager of the first ever JojaMart in the Valley.” She grabbed his sweaty palm and he shook her hand vigorously. “It’s always great to get more people moving here, helps with the economy as I’m sure you’re aware.”
Reshmi made a noncommittal hum in return. “Morris, I appreciate you helping me out, but I would like to be on my way.”
“Of course, I’m sure you have a busy day ahead of you. Let’s see here,” Morris rattled off the price and Reshmi tapped her card to pay. While he grabbed a bag for the toaster, she noticed the cork-board behind him. It was filled with news clippings and photos of JojaCorp achievements. One was about the latest mining project they had undertaken, another of the company revenue figures. All boastful corporate language, which was all too familiar. But it was the headline about the Joja Expansion project that really caught Reshmi’s attention. She felt a heavy lurch in the pit of her stomach. Shit. That was her project. Sure enough, underneath was a photo of the whole team, she and Owen right in front. He had her hand around her waist, pulling her towards him, with the both of them grinning for the camera. A wave of nausea threaten to overwhelm her. It was all so fake. So freaking fake. She had to get out of here.
“Done, and I’ve dropped a couple of coupons in there too. As a welcome gift.” Morris winked, he actually winked at her. She had to go.
The coupons were thrown in the trash as soon as she left, with the toaster almost along with it. But that wouldn’t solve anything. Instead she rushed home in the rain, this time without bothering with the umbrella. Relishing the feeling of the raindrops on her skin, forcing her to feel something other than numb. Her resolve grew stronger with every step, and she knew she wouldn’t be stepping into JojaMart ever again. Instead she grabbed her last packet of parsnip seeds, and head out to till the soil. She had more work to do.
Want more Reshmi? You can read my Harvey x Farmer fic here!
I actually can't write smut without a whole bunch of fluff! This is a slightly older piece of mine that I've only just got around to uploading. Also crossposted on my AO3.
Done with settling for stolen kisses and hurried moments, you and Sanji decide to make the most of some time alone on the ship.
Contains: nsfw under the cut, afab reader, smut and fluff
It wasn’t often that the two of you got some time alone. Between living on a rather crowded ship and the constant adventuring, you and Sanji were regularly kept apart. Franky had promised to build the two of you your own cabin soon, but until then you had to make do with stolen kisses and hurried fucks.
So when most of the crew decided to disembark on the latest island, you opted to stay behind and was pleased when Sanji did the same. With Zoro napping in the crows nest, and Jimbei patrolling the deck, you decided the ship had ample protection and took the opportunity to pull your lover away from the kitchen and towards the women’s sleeping quarters.
Sanji, bewildered at first, soon caught on to your plan as you marched across the lawn. Jimbei nodded towards the two of you but pried no further, which you were thankful for. You turned to your love, a light pink blush dusted his cheeks. While his hair covered his ears, you were sure they were bright red.
“I didn’t know you were so eager, my Princess.” He whispered.
“Can you blame me?” You ushered him into the room and locked the door, praying that Nami and Robin would understand (again). You looked up at Sanji, his eyes dark with want.
“It’s been far too long, my love.”
He tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “That it has, love.”
The kiss started soft and gentle, unlike the frantic, passionate ones you usually found time for. This time you both could go slow. Sanji licked your lips, asking for permission and you immediately parted them, allowing him to slip his tongue in. He tasted sweet, a little like cinnamon, and you made a mental note to ask him what new recipe he was trialling afterwards.
Without stopping, you guided him to your bed. He sat on the edge and you straddled him, not once letting your lips leave his. Slowly, you began unbuttoning his shirt, revelling in the taut muscles underneath. Once unbuttoned, you made quick work of discarding the shirt to the other side of the room before going for belt. There Sanji’s hands clasped around your own as he broke the kiss.
“Let me have fun too, love.” He whispered before nipping at your earlobe. You shuddered.
He begun at your neck, kissing all around it before pausing while you removed your top. He peppered the top of your breasts with little kisses and licks, which caused your quiet whimpers to become louder and more frantic. You started moving your hips, grinding against his hardness hoping he would get the hint. But he just stayed at your tits, deliberately playing with every part of the skin available but the nipple. The bastard was teasing you. How, you wondered, he was surely just as pent up as you. Your grinding became more insistent and when Sanji sucked particularly hard on your neck you let out a loud moan. He chuckled.
“What’s the matter, my sweet?” Sanji’s voice was low and breathy, which made you even more wet. You pulled away, and put on the grumpiest face you could despite how you currently looked.
“For fuck’s sake, just take me already!”
Who was Sanji to deny what his lover wanted? No, needed. He pulled you back on to the bed so you were lying beneath him, and made quick work of your pants and panties. While he was doing so, you finally got your hands on that damn belt buckle, and yanked off his pants and briefs. Before he could react, you pulled him back to you for a bruising kiss, just wanting to feel him on top of you. You arched against his hard length and he hissed. Slowly, he pulled away, only to move a finger down to your slick. Now it was his turn to moan.
“Fuck gorgeous, you are so wet.” You were about to retort, when his fingers brushed over your clit which caused you to gasp as the sudden touch.
“Are you too sensitive?” Sanji asked as he slowed down. “Do you need me to stop?” You shook your head.
“Just take it slow, I want to enjoy this.”
“Of course, my love.” He lowered himself to kiss you once again, as his fingers moved expertly in and around you. You took in every sensation, completely losing yourself to Sanji. He pulled back, wanting to see you. Wanting to hear your moans, wanting to watch you squirm. As he kept his gaze on you, he lowered his lips to your chest and took your nipple into his mouth. You arched in surprise and his fingers picked up the pace, sensing how close you were. His focus on your tits and your clit proved to be all too much, with a stifled scream, you became undone. Sanji pulled you into a sloppy open mouth kiss, as you rode the aftershocks while grasping on to him.
“You’re amazing,” you mumbled after you finally broke apart. You nuzzled into his shoulder as he kissed your neck once more.
“And you’re beautiful.”
Not wanting to leave your lover hanging, you slid your hands down his back, and caressed him before you moved your hands around his hips to his cock, and gave it a sharp tug. Sanji let out a small gasp and you smiled.
“What do you need, my love?”
“You.” He growled.
You gave his lip a quick bite before you rolled over to your side drawer and pulled out a condom. Thank goodness you had remembered to stock up the last time you were on land. You ripped the condom out of the packet, and carefully placed it around him.
Sanji pinned you back underneath him and lowered himself into you. You groaned, as you finally felt that wonderful stretch you hadn’t experienced in so long. Wantonly, you moaned. Any fears you had about being heard earlier were long gone, as Sanji picked up the pace spurred on by the beautiful noises you were making.
He lifted up your legs, peppering them with kisses as he positioned himself even deeper.
“F-fuck, Sanji.” You could barely call his name. He fucked you hard and fast, the concept of slow was long abandoned.
You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him towards you, craving every inch of your body. Sanji buried his face into your neck, growling out your name as you continued to moan. Sanji knew he was close, but before he could come, he had to see you. Had to see the faces you were making, hear your moans that he had caused to leave your lips. Pulling himself away from your neck, he saw you, your hair wild across the pillow, your face covered in the light glow of sweat as you panted out his name. No one else had ever seen you like this, so completely beautiful. With one final thrust, he came inside of you.
He hovered above you for a while, catching his breath, before looking up and meeting your hooded gaze. Gone is the lust and want that was there just before, now replaced with love and adoration.
“I love you,” the two of you said in unison, then giggled at the coincidence.
You wanted to pull him down for another kiss, but before you could he pulled himself out.
“I’ll be right back, love.”
You nodded, and spread yourself out fully across the bed, relaxed as you basked in the afterglow.
Not a minute later, Sanji was back, condom discarded and all cleaned up, armed with a damp towel to wipe you down. Despite how long you’d been together, you still felt shy whenever he did this.
Sanji discarded the towel next to your bed before meeting your blushing face. He laughed. “Oh, this you get embarrassed by?” You lightly hit his arm.
“Shush, you.” You pulled him back into your bed and slip the two of you under the covers. He slid his arm behind your neck, and instinctively you nuzzled into his chest.
“We shouldn’t stay here long, the others will be back soon.” He said quietly, voice thick with sleep.
You felt your eyes closing but nodded all the same. “Just a quick shut eye. We won’t be long.”
Sanji shook his head. “Not long at all.”
—
The low glow of the moonlight is what finally disturbed you from your slumber. You were still in Sanji’s arms, and you gently shifted up in hopes you wouldn’t disturb him. As you sat up, you noticed a piece of paper with some numbers on it flutter to the ground from your bed. Curious, you picked it up, only to regret doing so.
‘Fine: 1, 000, 000 berries to be delivered to Nami for fucking in shared sleeping quarters. Interest not included.’
i wanted to write out some headcanons to get me back in to writing and this is what I got! Of course as soon as I found this prompt I couldn't help but think of Dante, the pure himbo that he is.
~~♡~~
Prompt: When your otp first start dating, who always buys them flowers, who doesn’t have the heart to tell them that they have seriously bad hay-fever.
Having never been in a relationship before, Dante decided he wanted to treat you. But with what? It was then Patty suggested flowers. “Everyone likes getting flowers!” she cried. Dante shrugged at the time, but the idea stuck with him.
So there he was, handing you flowers on your one month anniversary.
You smile and thank him, genuinely touched by the thought and his generosity, but you can already feel your nose starting to tingle. But Dante looks so happy that you liked them that you can’t tell him no.
He buys you flowers again a couple of weeks later, after you’ve had a bad day at work. It takes you a few weeks to recover from this bouquet. Dante thinks you’re sick with a cold and you don’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.
This goes on for a full six months until one day Dante walks in to your apartment and catches you sneezing, again one of his lovely bouquets are sitting in a vase on your counter.
“Whoa, babe. Are you sick?” You shake your head while holding off a sneeze, but he runs over to feel your forehead anyway.
“It’s just allergies, I ran out of antihistamines yesterday.” You smile up at your concerned demon. “I’ll just need to pop over to the chemist and we’ll be good to go.”
Dante’s face screws up in concentration as you continue getting ready. It’s not allergy season, your place isn’t super dusty, so what gives? It’s then he smells the faint aroma of the flowers. He walks over to the vase and gives them a big sneeze. When you come back you see him standing over them, arms crossed. “It’s the flowers, isn’t it?”
You don’t even need to say anything, your face says it all. He grabs the vase and heads to the toilet.
“Wait, Dante! What are you doing?”
“Throwing them away!”
“Well don’t throw them down the toilet!” You grab the vase and make quick work of disposing of the flowers properly, all the while Dante hovers in the kitchen.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he huffs.
You walk over and grab his hands in yours. “Because I love them. I love that you thought of me and got me these gorgeous gifts.” You sniff. “It’s just my stupid nose who didn’t love them.”
He strokes your cheek. “Yeah, well. I love your stupid nose. It’s more important than any damn gift, ok?”
You laugh and nod, which finally brings out that gorgeous grin you fell for. Before he can lean in for a kiss, you pull back suddenly and sneeze.
