Writingslob

Hi, I'm a slob who writes (pfp made by my lovely, talented, amazing friend teko)

[writingslob]

MASTERLIST

MAIN SERIES:

(My ao3 account can be found here!)

Lin Ling's guide to becoming an emotional support civilian [YANDERE EDITION]

(Credit goes to @kiraisrika for the idea)

In this world, Lin Ling can calm people down if they are within arm's length of him. He thought nothing of it until one day he saved the 15th hero, Nice, from suicide.

PART 1:

Lin Ling and Nice meet for the first time. Miss Juan is less than impressed

PART 2:

Lin Ling finally decided on what to do in this whole situation. Nice and he grew closer as a result.

PART 3:

Lin Ling meets the other people in Nice's life. Wreck is less than impressed.

PART 4:

???

LIN LING INTERVIEW

The streamer is an up-and-coming content creator on FOMO. Their newest series, ‘THE COMMON Q&A,’ consists of them interviewing Lin Ling in increasingly bizarre places.

Part 1:

The steamer and Lin Ling meet. Lin Ling is less than impressed

Part 2:

???

A ROGUE CAT IN GOTHAM

Adrien runs away after his father, Gabriel Agreste, is arrested for being Hawkmoth. Where does he accidentally end up? In Gotham City.

Part 1:

Feeling like a burden to his friends, he leaves Paris and boards the first plane leaving. Unfortunately, it's leaving for Gotham City.

REQUESTED HEADCANONS:

[X] x [LIN LING] requested by inviflower and special thanks to cemeterydwd for translating! (Part 2) [X] x [LIN LING] requested by inviflower One-sided [ENLIGHTENER] x [LIN LING] requested by @kiraisrika (Part 2) [ENLIGHTENER] x [LIN LING] [YANDERE X] x [LIN LING]  [E-SOUL/ YANG CHENG] x [LIN LING] [YANDERE X] x [LIN LING] x [YANDERE NICE] requested by @kiraisrika [X] x [YANDERE LIN LING]

SPIN-OFFS/ONE-SHOTS:

Lin Ling's guide to becoming an emotional support civilian [BIRTHDAY EDITION!]

[writingslob]

I absolutely love the emotional support civilian story, do you have any plans to continue it? I want wreck to be saved so badly 🥺

(allxLL always)

Ha ha! Whoa boy, I guess no more running, huh?

First off, I want to thank and apologize to all of you. Even though I have been more or less radio silent on this account, y'all have still given me so much support and activity on both here and my AO3, and while I don't respond (and I'll explain in a bit why shortly), I need you all to know how incredibly grateful I am and how much your support means to me!

Now, the first reason why I haven't been active is because, well, my irl went to hell, simply put. I'm safe, don't worry! But the last few months have been the most stressful period of my life, I'd argue, and I haven't had the energy to do much

The second reason is that, sadly, I fell out of love with the show. Now, this isn't me saying I hate it or anything! Hell, I haven't even watched anything outside of LL's and E-soul's episodes, and from the few spoilers I see, I know the show is doing some really interesting things! I'm just...not that interested.

This is normal for me, I fall in and out of fandoms a lot, and I always come back given time! But uh, due to my guilt for not being able to continue the fanfic and effectively ghosting everyone on this account, I uh kinda dread TBHX ha ha (Like I know it's not that deep but still!)

I'll come back, don't worry! But I'm gonna have you all for some more time so I can deal with the guilt and come back to the show out of love and not some weird obligation I placed on myself for no good reason.

Anyhow! To actually properly answer your question, yes, the fanfic is still on, and I have plans for all of them, hehe. While I still sadly won't be very active, I do want to at least try to get back into posting every once in and while and when this stressful period of my life ends, who knows! Maybe I'll be able to come back in full force! Here's hoping!

Thank you all so much once again. I hope you all have a wonderful rest of your day, and I hope to see you all again very soon!

[shotdowndstairs]

Yippee my fav Tumblr post updated

[writingslob]

I LOVE YOU TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!/p

(if yk yk)

[writingslob]

I absolutely love the emotional support civilian story, do you have any plans to continue it? I want wreck to be saved so badly 🥺

(allxLL always)

Ha ha! Whoa boy, I guess no more running, huh?

First off, I want to thank and apologize to all of you. Even though I have been more or less radio silent on this account, y'all have still given me so much support and activity on both here and my AO3, and while I don't respond (and I'll explain in a bit why shortly), I need you all to know how incredibly grateful I am and how much your support means to me!

Now, the first reason why I haven't been active is because, well, my irl went to hell, simply put. I'm safe, don't worry! But the last few months have been the most stressful period of my life, I'd argue, and I haven't had the energy to do much

The second reason is that, sadly, I fell out of love with the show. Now, this isn't me saying I hate it or anything! Hell, I haven't even watched anything outside of LL's and E-soul's episodes, and from the few spoilers I see, I know the show is doing some really interesting things! I'm just...not that interested.

This is normal for me, I fall in and out of fandoms a lot, and I always come back given time! But uh, due to my guilt for not being able to continue the fanfic and effectively ghosting everyone on this account, I uh kinda dread TBHX ha ha (Like I know it's not that deep but still!)

I'll come back, don't worry! But I'm gonna have you all for some more time so I can deal with the guilt and come back to the show out of love and not some weird obligation I placed on myself for no good reason.

Anyhow! To actually properly answer your question, yes, the fanfic is still on, and I have plans for all of them, hehe. While I still sadly won't be very active, I do want to at least try to get back into posting every once in and while and when this stressful period of my life ends, who knows! Maybe I'll be able to come back in full force! Here's hoping!

Thank you all so much once again. I hope you all have a wonderful rest of your day, and I hope to see you all again very soon!

[bambieheart444]

[writingslob]

A Rogue Cat In Gotham

[Miraculous Ladybug] x [DC]

(You can also read it here on AO3!)

Disclaimer: This is a canon diverge fic, so there will be a lot of changes to the canon, especially to the MLB characters and the MLB storyline! I have tried to keep the core of who they are intact, but they have been changed! Also, there will be NO CHARACTER BASHING! No character bashing for Marinette, or Adrien, or the Batfam, or anyone else! Also, I personally don't have a physical disability, and while I have done a lot of research on the topic, I know that I won't be able to get all of the facets of being disabled or even be wrong in my portrayal. So if I got something wrong, please tell me in the comments!

Author's note: To all of my TBHX followers, hi! I am not dead! Parts 4 and 5 of Lin Ling's guide to becoming an emotional support civilian [YANDERE EDITION] are still going to come out! But it will take a while since I have unfortunately fallen out of love with the series. So I hope you enjoy this in its stead!

.

.

.

It’s been two weeks since Hawkmoth's defeat.

Marinette is worried, and Adrien would be blind not to notice. He knows he hasn’t been eating much, or talking, or doing anything outside of work. He can feel her concern radiate from her, but isn’t this good? He’s not moping in bed anymore, and he’s actually helping! After everything the Dupain-Chengs have done for him, he refuses to lounge around and be some kind of dead weight to them. They have treated him so kindly—even after everything and—

“I think that’s enough frosting, dear.”

Snapping out of his spiraling thoughts, he looked down and promptly winced at the monstrosity in front of him. The cupcake was drowning in a sea of red, looking more like a crime scene than a ladybug-themed cupcake. He bit his lip. Before he can even try to salvage the cupcake in front of him, Sabine gently places a hand over his, her body heat burning him. He quickly snatches his hand back. Her brow softens at this, and before he can utter an apology, she waves him off.

“How about a break—”

Adrien’s mouth was quicker than his brain. “No.” His brain, having caught on to just how rude that was, tried to smooth things out hurriedly. “No—I’m sorry that came out wrong! I just—I’m sorry I ruined the cupcake; I can do better! Or…I can do something else! I am really sorry again, Miss Cheng. It won’t happen again!” Sabine was staring at him with that pitying look again, and he could feel his hands begin to shake behind his back—or perhaps they had been shaking this whole time. The lack of sleep certainly wasn’t helping him think clearly. Before he can try to plead again, she huffs. 

“Well, if you insist, how about you take over the front?”

He knew what she was doing. With Hero’s Day just around the corner and the bakery being commissioned by the mayor to supply the party that night, the bakery has been closed due to the high demand and short deadline. It was an all-hands-on-deck type of situation with Marinette and her dad rushing to the store for emergency milk and eggs, Sabine on baking, and him on decoration—or was on decoration. Because he couldn’t even do that right. He wanted to refuse and insist he could keep going, but he swallowed those complaints down, causing a lump to form in his throat. Sabine was kind enough not to already send him packing; best not to test her patience. 

Nodding, he told her to call him if she needed any help as he took his cane and walked out front to the register. Pulling a nearby chair closer to him, he sat and waited. And waited. And waited some more. After a solid 30 minutes, the only thing holding him back from pulling out his phone was his fear of getting scolded by Sabine for not paying attention to the store more (even though logically he knew she wouldn’t. He’d seen Marinette do it a million times.) and the fact…

‘VILLAIN OF PARIS HAS BEEN UNVEILED AS NONE OTHER THAN MILLIONAIRE FASHION DESIGNER, GABRIEL AGRESTE—’ ‘TOP TEN SIGNS GABRIEL AGRESTE WAS NOT WHO HE SEEMED—’ ‘GABRIEL AGRESTE TRIAL HAPPENING ON THE—’ ‘LADYBUG HAS GONE ON RECORD TO DEFEND HAWKMOTH’S SON, ADRIEN AGRESTE, BUT IS SHE TELLING THE TRUTH? FIND OUT MORE ON-’ ‘Omg, y'all, Adr*en is literally the son of a supervillain, and y'all are all still supporting him? Adr*en stans need to grow up.. #CancelAdrienAgreste #AntiAdrienAgreste #FuckThatBoy’ ‘He’s just a teen hoe, shut up. His dad is literally on the top 100th supervillain list, like #AntiAdrienAgreste #Hawkmoth #HawkmothSon #HawkmothIsADumbAssName.’

…Yeah, he hasn’t really touched social media in a while, has he? Heaving out a long sigh, a quiet thump echoed throughout the room as he lay his forehead on the warm wooden counter. Behind him, he can hear Sabine bustling in the kitchen, and the warmth and white noise of it all was almost enough to lull him to sleep. Before he could close his drooping eyes, however, a loud bang startled him back into his ramrod posture as he blinked wildly. “I am so sorry, but we’re closed for today—”

“ARE YOU ADRIEN AGRESTE!?”

“I—”

“DID YOU KNOW YOUR DAD WAS HAWKMOTH!?”

“No—”

“WILL YOU BE TESTIFYING AT HIS TRIAL LATER THIS WEEK!?”

“I-I don’t—”

Lights were flashing in his eyes as he heard the shutters of cameras snapping as a microphone was jabbed in his face, forcing him out of his chair and hobbling back until his back collided against the walls. He hissed as the pain on his right side flared up, but the lady with the microphone didn’t stop, as she kept yelling on and on, and with every scream, he could feel his throat closing up. His breath was short and shaky, and he knew he should take a deep breath, but it was a fight to even remain focused, his eyes blurring with tears. 

“What is going on here—!?”

Please

“We’re reporting from—”

Please just stop…

“I don’t care where you’re from; I need you to leave right now! Can’t you see you’re hurting him!?”

“There are just a few questions! It’s not our fault he’s sensitive!”

‘SENSITIVE!? YOU ARE—Adrien? ADRIEN!”

He didn’t know where he was going, but all he knew was that he needed to get out of there. .

.

.

He heard her coming from a mile away. Perks of having cat ears, he supposed. His legs were hugged close to his chest, and the usual feeling of freedom was absent from his chest. Instead, all he could feel was numb. A soft thump rang out behind him. Ladybug. She sat beside him, and they both looked out at the city from the Eiffel Tower. Ladybug knew to give him space when he was in one of his moods. She was always so kind; he doesn’t deserve her. 

A minute of quiet passed between them. 

Then “Tell your mom I’m sorry for bailing halfway through my shift.”

“What? No! Chaton, it’s alright! Mama understands. Besides, those reporters were way out of line! They were—urgh! I want to punch them! They are so lucky that Papa and I came back after they left!” Ladybug’s hands were clenched into fists as she animatedly waved them around, a fire in her eyes. Chat couldn’t help but crack a smile at her. 

“Thank you, M’lady.” Ladybug’s eyes widened, and he wished so fiercely for a moment that he could kiss the look of surprise away from her face. To lean in and close the gap between them. To be able to love and be loved back. He swallows it all down like he has done a million times and instead offers her a small smile. “I—” Even with her mask, he could see the red on her cheeks before she shook her head. “Of course, we’re partners after all, Chaton.” 

Partners. Yeah, right. He knew she was trying to make his mood better, but what a bold-faced lie. Everyone knew Chat Noir was just the sidekick meant to prop Ladybug (not that she needed it). He was always the first one knocked out, brainwashed, or otherwise incapacitated in battle, and He was the first one to get their miraculous stolen by his own goddamn father. It was always Ladybug who saved the day in the end. She was the queen and king; meanwhile, he was just some...rook.

“Yeah, yeah, we are.” The words tasted like sandpaper in his mouth. He looked away, back to the now dark skies, the air much chillier than before.

Ladybug looked at him before carefully asking, “What do you want to do after this?”

“I…” Shit, that’s a good question. Before, if he was asked this, he would have laughed it off and said something along the lines of modeling or taking over his father’s company when he stepped down. Now look at him, his modeling career firmly dead and his father being outed as the supervillain who’s been terrorizing Paris for the last 2 years. His plans for the future are as dead as his reputation is. “I don’t know. What about you?”

“Me?” “Yeah,” Chat tilted his head as he regarded her. “You have way more free time now, so?”

Ladybug hummed, as if considering her now endless possibilities. With her determination and passion, he knows she’ll go far. “Well, I’ll be able to catch up with all the sleep I lost, that’s for sure.” Counting off her fingers, she continued, “Oh! And I’ll be able to finally start on real commissions! Also, schoolwork will now be a breeze with no more Akumas breathing down my neck. Alya and I also planned some cool stuff we can do—uh! We meaning you, me, Alya, and Nino!”

“Oh,” A sense of dread fell over him as he thought of just being outside without the mask. Of having to suffer through the same looks of pity or even worse—contempt—from his friends. He tried to mask the dread with a smile, but Ladybug saw right through him, as always. “You don’t have to, of course—!” She panicked, waving her arms around. “Not that we wouldn’t want you—no, I mean yes, we want you, but no, you don’t have to—!” He reached a black leathered claw to shush her mid-ramble.

“It’s okay, Marinette. I get it.”

Flushed red, she muttered a half-hearted “no real names in public” before looking back at Paris. Paris. He once thought of it as his home because he had his friends, school, and… a family, but now? Now this city he once called home, felt suffocating. It was as if the air itself was trying to purge him out of its system. Maybe he should take the hint and run. Run somewhere far, far away, where the name Adrien Agreste means nothing. Where his past isn’t screaming in his face every day. Maybe…

“You still with me, Chat?” A red and black hand waved in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked at her, with her blue bob cut hair swaying gently in the wind and her concern written clear as day on her lovely, lovely face. And suddenly, everything he had been bottling came back with a raging vengeance, his throat burning with everything he had ever wanted to say. 

‘Your parents are wonderful people, and every time they help me, the more I want to die. Isn’t that terrible?’

‘I’m scared, Marinette. I’m so scared I’ll be known as my father’s son for the rest of my life.’

‘I don’t want to be an Agreste—hell, I don’t even know if I’m Adrien anymore. Cat Noir has outlived his usefulness, so if I can’t be Adrien or Cat Noir, then who am I?’

‘I love you so much it hurts, but I know you love someone else—your buttercup—and I don’t think I can ever recover that piece of my heart that I gave to you.’

‘I don’t think Paris is my home anymore, even after I bled and died for it more times than I could count.’

‘The pain in my sides is getting worse and worse every day, and I know that I’m running on borrowed time, even with the painkillers. I know you cry at night when you think I’m asleep, trying to find a cure, but….’

“Chaton?”

He smiles. “Let’s head back; I think we’ve worried your parents long enough.” Before she could object, he pulled out his baton and jumped off. A second later, he could make out the tall tale sound of a yo-yo slicing through the air behind him as the two of them made their quiet trip back. 

The quietness didn’t last for long, however, as he neared the bakery, he could hear the sound of people—people with expensive blocky cameras and boomboxes meant to capture every sound. The cold pit of dread morphed into a shaking anxiety as he got closer and closer to the bakery. Ladybug hissed out a “What the fuck are they doing here?” behind him. Just before he could suggest they do another lap around the city to get away, one of the reporters caught a glimpse of red, and before he knew it, all the press was wrapped around the base of the building they were on top of. 

“HELLO! MY NAME IS—”

“LADYBUG! DO YOU HAVE ANY THOUGHTS ON THE UPCOMING TRIAL AGAINST YOUR ARCHNEMESIS!?”

“NOW THAT HAWKMOTH IS BEHIND BARS, WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS MOVING FORWARD REGARDING THE CITY OF PARIS!?”

“WILL YOU BE JOINING THE JUSTICE LEAGUE YOURSELF AFTER THIS—!?”

He bit his tongue hard to keep the panic at bay as he looked down at the sea of reporters. Every time he blinked, two more seemed to duplicate, and he could feel his anxiety clawing up his throat and his hands shaking. Before he could do something dumb like throw up all his secrets, a warm hand pressed against the back of his arm, anchoring him to the present. Ladybug stepped forward and met his gaze with determination. “Go,” she mouthed before jumping down into the sea of reporters.

Cat Noir remembers when it was he who had to handle all the press, back when they just started. Ladybug would always freak out, nervously pacing back and forth and using him as a test dummy to make sure she didn’t stumble through interviews. After a while, she found her stride, and now? Looking down at her, confidently taking charge and redirecting the press with wit, he can’t help but feel that…his time has come. He was a crutch, but now, she has outgrown him. There’s no more space for him. 

Biting down a bitter smile, he jumped off the roof and continued to the Dupain-Chengs bakery. No one noticed his departure. 

.

.

.

Sliding down the trapdoor, he looks around, spotting his cane propped up next to the chaise longue he has been using as his bed for he past two weeks. On the chaise itself, there were his specially made painkillers and a bottle of water. The right side of his torso ached at the sight of them. Normal painkillers do nothing for the pain, even when the pain itself is mild, because…

(“Why is nothing working!?” Marinette was pacing around the room, ripping through her medicine cabinet as if it personally offended her. Adrien would have cracked a joke—anything to wipe off the pure look of panic on her face when she started to realize that none of her painkillers were working on him, but he was already using all his energy not to scream as the pain ravaged through his body. It was as if his body was set on fire, like his body was left in the cold for far too long, like his body was an exposed wire, and with every breath, he could feel the shocks coursing through him.

His lips were bloody from how hard he was biting them to stop the screaming. His breath was shaky and labored, and the only thing holding him together was Plagg sitting on top of his forehead, purring viciously as if it could distract him from the pain. 

Tikki hovered anxiously around Marinette before flying in front of her, stopping her from ripping the cabinet’s door clean off its hinges. “Marinette, normal painkillers won’t be able to help him.” Marinette stopped in her tracks before a manic look appeared in her eyes. “Yeah—! Yeah, you’re right, I should get the stronger stuff—I can fake a prescription! Or…or I could steal some! Yeah, okay, hold on, Chat, I’ll go.” Before she could run off and commit a felony, Tikki shook her head. “No painkillers can help him. No normal ones, at least.”

“Normal? Wait! So, you’re saying some painkillers can help him?” 

Tikki's eyes narrowed as she looked away. “I—” Before she could continue, however, Plagg cuts her off. “I know a way to help his pain.” He said, his voice determined. 

“Plagg! No, we can’t!”

Plagg ignores her, instead focusing on Marinette. “Are you in Pigtails?”

“Yes!” Marinette nodded.

Plagg took one last look and whispered, “I’ll be right back, kid,” at Adrien before flying up. Adrien whined at the sudden loss. Plagg left the room, Marinette and Tikki following after. 

“Wait—!”

He didn’t know how much time had passed. It could have been a second; it could have been hours. All he knew was that they came back with a small pink pill and slipped it into his dry mouth. The pain didn’t stop, but it was lessened, more akin to an aching throb than the absolute hell it was before. Marinette and Plagg looked relieved, while Tikki hung back.)

He later learned that the painkillers they made were special and could only be made by the Guardian of the Miraculouses. Adrien knew there was more than what they were telling him, but every time he brought up the conversation, Marinette got that panicked look in her eyes, and Plagg would throw himself against Adrien, whining about the lack of good-quality Camembert, and then he would scold Plagg, and it would just turn into a big mess.

Sighing at the memory, he sank into the couch, thumbing the pill bottle in his hand. Adrien was quick to find out that while the suit prevented him from feeling the worst of the pain, the minute he de-transformed, it would come back tenfold, even with the medication. Gritting his teeth, he washed down two of the pills before uttering a small “Claws out.” 

The pain was now a well-known enemy, and as he lay there, riding out the worst wave, his mind couldn’t help but rewind the day's events. How he couldn’t help Sabine with the decoration, how he froze up when the press came, how he couldn’t even muster up any excitement to see his friends anymore, how useless he is now that Ladybug has all but surpassed him, how he has to depend on her for his goddamn medication. All the signs were pointing to him being but a burden to those around him. He furrowed his brows as he thought.

“Hey Plagg,”

Plagg opened one of his eyes to peer at him as he lay flat on Adrien’s stomach. “Yeah, kid?”

“What do you think about…leaving?” Now that got Plagg’s attention as he opened both of his eyes to look at Adrien, curious. “Leaving? Where to? Kid, what are you up to this time?” Adrien rolled his eyes as he flicked Plagg on the head. 

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For stinking up Marinette’s room with your Camembert. I thought I told you to eat it in the bathroom.”

Plagg gasped, “Excuse me for not wanting to eat my beloved Camembert in the bathroom of all places! I am a classy guy! I can’t eat my camembert next to the toilet!” After a second, though, the Kwami sobered up as he regarded Adrien wearily. “Seriously, though, what’s with all this talk about leaving?.” 

Adrien looked away, ashamed. Plagg softened as he floated up to his face. “Come on, kid, talk to me. Why do you want to leave?” Adrien's throat burned as he choked out,

“...I—”

Before he can finish, though, a loud thump echoes out, followed closely by a thundering “WHAT!?” Plagg and Adrien looked at each other before Adrien hobbled up, grabbing his cane and heading downstairs as fast as he could. 

He’s in a cold sweat once he reaches the bottom of the stairs, the pain flaring up with each breath he takes. Plagg was looking at him and back up the attic door, but he shook his head. He already took two of the pills; he’d be fine. Leaning against the wall and using his cane to move, he poked his head around the corner to get a better view of what was happening.

Tom was back and covered in flour. His hands were covered with the stuff, but he didn’t seem to care as he ruffled his hair in agitation, spreading it around even more. He was pacing back and forth as he listened to the person on the phone. Sabine was by his side, looking both pissed and worried as she listened in. The phone wasn’t on speaker, so he couldn’t hear what was being said, but from the looks of things, it wasn’t good news.

“What do you mean? Mr.. Mayor, please reconsider! All the preparation, and 80% of the work, is already done! You can’t just cancel now!” Tom begged.

Ah, so it was the mayor then. Adrien couldn’t say he was surprised that the mayor did something like this, but why? Maybe Chloe wanted someone else to cater for the event? Still, even she acknowledged, albeit begrudgingly, that the pastries from Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie were good. So what could possibly be the reason he would cancel last minute?

“A- A CRIMINAL!? MAYOR, I CAN ASSURE YOU ADRIEN IS THE SWEETEST YOUNG MAN I HAVE EVER KNOWN! LOOK, JUST BECAUSE HIS FATHER WAS HAWKMOTH DOESN’T MEAN—”

Oh.

Of course. 

Tom and Sabine have surely noticed him at this point, but he didn’t care as he all but threw himself up the stairs and into Marinette’s room. He felt sick; a dam had broken within him, and now something was clawing up his throat, demanding to be let out. Opening the bathroom door, he stumbled to the sink, dry heaving. Nothing came out. After a minute, he thunked his head against the sink and fell to his knees onto the bathroom floor.

His side was inflamed by his kneeling, but he didn’t get up. He didn’t know if he could.

“Kid… Come on, get up and take a nap. You’ll feel better after.”

“...okay”

.

.

.

“-But shouldn’t we wake him up? It’s dinner time-!”

“-Pigtails, let him nap. He can eat after—”

“-I mean, he does have those eyebags, so I guess it’s okay—”

“-Also, we’re going to need another bottle of those painkillers, preferably a jar actually—”

“-Alright, got it. I can get that done after dinner.”

.

.

.

It was pitch black when he woke up.

Good, that will make this easier then. Gently moving Plagg off of him, he grabbed his cane and walked to the closet where his backpack was. ‘It's not great,’ he grimaced to himself as he examined the medium-sized bag in his hands. If he had his fencing bag with him, he could store more luggage, but—no, no, this will work. He can’t carry much anyway, and besides, he doesn’t have a lot of stuff anymore to begin with. With that in mind, he began scouring the room to grab all his stuff, careful not to wake up anyone. 

He grabbed all the clothes Ladybug was able to steal back from the mansion, pausing as his hand grabbed a familiar blue scarf. The one his father made for him… He remembered the first year of high school—he remembered the joy he felt when he first walked through those halls, how everything was new and unique. He remembered the exhilaration he felt when he first transformed, the first time he leaped through the skies towards danger, eager and ready to take on everything. He remembered…making his first true friends.

And now suddenly all he could think of was his friends—of Nino’s smile and fist bumps as he patiently showed him what it was like to be a teen, to have fun, to rebel, to not have to be Adrien Agreste the model and son but instead just Adrien. He thought of Alya and her bravery, of how she was always able to stand up for what’s right. To be honest, he hadn’t had the chance to talk or hang out with her much, but every time he sees her fight for what she believes in, he can’t help but feel a similar ember burn inside him. And then…he thinks of Marinette.

Marinette, his lady, his first love, his…everything. Marinette with her big expressive eyes that are always bouncing from one emotion to another, Marinette with her unyielding kindness who always helps others no matter what, and Marinette who…

(“CAT NOIR!”

Father…Father, how could he? The pain. The pain was searing, devouring him from the outside in, but all he could do was lie there as Hawkmoth ran away with their Miraculouses. He failed; he choked up at the realization. He failed to protect Paris, he failed to protect his Miraculous, and he failed…to notice his own father was Hawkmoth. 

“ADRIEN! Come on, kitty, get up. We need to regroup with the others.” Ladybug’s—no, Marinette’s face engulfed his vision as he stared up at her. She wasn’t as bruised as he was, and the thought brought him some comfort. He failed at everything else, but at least his lady came out relatively unscathed. Her hand was outstretched for him to take it. Adrien shook his head. “Ladybug. Go. Leave me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. 

Marinette stepped out of his now limited field of vision, and he couldn’t help the bitter satisfaction that welled up. Good. Now she can go make up some wacky but brilliant plan to save the day and—"Huh!?" He yelped as he was lifted into the air by his armpit. Marinette was beside him, his arm slung around her shoulders as she started to march, his dragging behind her.

“Marinette—!”

“I’m not going to leave you here, Chaton!”

“But—Hawkmoth! The wish! You’d be too late!”

Marinette’s face hardened with determination as she turned to him. “Let him make his stupid wish. We’ll just have to kick his ass afterwards.” She turned back to the ruined streets before her, carefully side-stepping the rubble. “We’re Chat Noir and Ladybug. We can do this.” Adrien, at that very moment, couldn’t help but fall in love with her all over again.)

She’d…probably be sad if he leaves, and the thought of that alone was enough to make him reconsider—to unpack everything and slip back under his cover and pretend like this never happened. He pauses and thinks. Adrien doesn’t want to admit it, but…he still wants to stick around. Paris itself might not feel like a home anymore, but his friends are still here, and they are the most amazing, talented, and kind people he has ever known.

However.

He knows that he should leave. He’s the problem, he’s the burden, and he’s the thing weighing them down. 

‘To love is to let go’—isn’t that the saying? If he loves them, then he should leave. Let them heal, let them shine, and let them forget about him until he is nothing more than a faded memory. Someone that pops up randomly in the middle of the night, someone who you ask, “Oh, hey, remember that guy?” someone who you can only recall the silhouette of. This is the right thing. He loves them, so he’ll let them go.

The packing process went smoothly after that; the blue scarf was wrapped deep at the bottom of the bag as he grabbed all his documents and debit card (it wasn’t his main card; it was an offshore one his dad gave to him one day, under a different name. He hates that he now understands why he was given it.) electronics, food, and water (not much—he doesn’t want to trouble the Dupain-Chengs any more than he already has. Just some saltine crackers and two large water bottles.) his pills, and finally…Plagg. He hesitated before slowly beginning to slip off the ring, ready to let his friend go when—

“Kid. I don’t recommend that.”

He flinched at the noise, looking up at Marinette, who thankfully was still asleep, before looking back down to Plagg. Plagg flew up from the chaise and zoomed over to his backpack as if inspecting it. He nodded at most of his choices before glaring at his food supply. “You need more food. Preferably Camembert, but anything will do.” “I can’t do that! I’ve already caused them enough trouble! I’m not going to steal more than I need!” He whisper-stammered before making an aggressive shushing motion. “Also, quiet down! I don’t want to wake up Marinette!”

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Adrien, Pigtails’s family is hardly going to notice a few of their pantry items going missing. Besides, I’m also coming along, so I need food too, you know!” He sighed dramatically, as if in great pain. “Oh, if I knew you would abuse your Kwami like this, I would have never chosen you—”

“Okay, okay!” He relented, already making his way to the trapdoor with the bag in hand before realizing, ‘Wait, wasn’t I supposed to leave him behind?’ But when he turned around, Plagg was already glaring at him, his slit eyes narrowed as if daring him to even think about trying that again. He smiles at that. Maybe…maybe he could keep at least one of his friends after all. 

Coming back with his bag stuffed full of all the Camembert in the house and a few canned beans, he gave Plagg an ‘Are you satisfied?’ before Plagg curtly nodded. “It’ll have to do.” He said. Glancing up at Marinette, Plagg asked, “Gonna write something for Pigtails?” Adrien froze at that. Right, a note. A final note. The last thing she’ll ever read from him ever again. It’s the least he could do, he thinks as he pulls out a sheet of paper and a pencil from her desk. To mitigate as much as he can and explain to her that this is for the best. 

The two of them fell silent, Plagg being nice enough not to point out the tear burning in the corner of his eyes as he folded up the letter. 

“Let’s go.” 

“Plagg, claws out.”

(And if he stopped by at every friend’s house to stare at them wishfully before departing, well, that’s between him and Plagg.)

.

.

.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of Air France, it is my pleasure to welcome you aboard flight 192 with service from Paris, France, and continuing service to Gotham City, America. Now, please—” James turned out the rest of the lecture, instead surveying the sleeping guy that’d be his seatmate for the next 8 and a half hours. Now, usually he wouldn’t do this—he couldn’t give a rat’s ass about who his seatmate is as long as they’re quiet and not drooling on his shoulder. 

But this guy—or, he guesses, kid—looks so eerily familiar, but he can’t place his finger on it. With his bright, almost sunshine-yellow blond hair, an unhealthy sheen to his pale skin, and all-black clothes, James could have sworn he had seen this kid before. Maybe on the street? No, no, he must have seen him somewhere else, but where?

“Hello, sir! What would you like to drink?”

James snapped out of his stare. “Ah, just Coke, please, thank you.” Paying for his Coke, he decided that, eh, it didn’t matter who the kid was. So what if he looked vaguely familiar? He probably just saw the kid in the airport or something. With that in mind, he let his mind drift to other things as the plane flew them to the most dangerous city in all of America. 

Gotham. 

[writingslob]

A Rogue Cat In Gotham

[Miraculous Ladybug] x [DC]

(You can also read it here on AO3!)

Disclaimer: This is a canon diverge fic, so there will be a lot of changes to the canon, especially to the MLB characters and the MLB storyline! I have tried to keep the core of who they are intact, but they have been changed! Also, there will be NO CHARACTER BASHING! No character bashing for Marinette, or Adrien, or the Batfam, or anyone else! Also, I personally don't have a physical disability, and while I have done a lot of research on the topic, I know that I won't be able to get all of the facets of being disabled or even be wrong in my portrayal. So if I got something wrong, please tell me in the comments!

Author's note: To all of my TBHX followers, hi! I am not dead! Parts 4 and 5 of Lin Ling's guide to becoming an emotional support civilian [YANDERE EDITION] are still going to come out! But it will take a while since I have unfortunately fallen out of love with the series. So I hope you enjoy this in its stead!

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It’s been two weeks since Hawkmoth's defeat.

Marinette is worried, and Adrien would be blind not to notice. He knows he hasn’t been eating much, or talking, or doing anything outside of work. He can feel her concern radiate from her, but isn’t this good? He’s not moping in bed anymore, and he’s actually helping! After everything the Dupain-Chengs have done for him, he refuses to lounge around and be some kind of dead weight to them. They have treated him so kindly—even after everything and—

“I think that’s enough frosting, dear.”

Snapping out of his spiraling thoughts, he looked down and promptly winced at the monstrosity in front of him. The cupcake was drowning in a sea of red, looking more like a crime scene than a ladybug-themed cupcake. He bit his lip. Before he can even try to salvage the cupcake in front of him, Sabine gently places a hand over his, her body heat burning him. He quickly snatches his hand back. Her brow softens at this, and before he can utter an apology, she waves him off.

“How about a break—”

Adrien’s mouth was quicker than his brain. “No.” His brain, having caught on to just how rude that was, tried to smooth things out hurriedly. “No—I’m sorry that came out wrong! I just—I’m sorry I ruined the cupcake; I can do better! Or…I can do something else! I am really sorry again, Miss Cheng. It won’t happen again!” Sabine was staring at him with that pitying look again, and he could feel his hands begin to shake behind his back—or perhaps they had been shaking this whole time. The lack of sleep certainly wasn’t helping him think clearly. Before he can try to plead again, she huffs. 

“Well, if you insist, how about you take over the front?”

He knew what she was doing. With Hero’s Day just around the corner and the bakery being commissioned by the mayor to supply the party that night, the bakery has been closed due to the high demand and short deadline. It was an all-hands-on-deck type of situation with Marinette and her dad rushing to the store for emergency milk and eggs, Sabine on baking, and him on decoration—or was on decoration. Because he couldn’t even do that right. He wanted to refuse and insist he could keep going, but he swallowed those complaints down, causing a lump to form in his throat. Sabine was kind enough not to already send him packing; best not to test her patience. 

Nodding, he told her to call him if she needed any help as he took his cane and walked out front to the register. Pulling a nearby chair closer to him, he sat and waited. And waited. And waited some more. After a solid 30 minutes, the only thing holding him back from pulling out his phone was his fear of getting scolded by Sabine for not paying attention to the store more (even though logically he knew she wouldn’t. He’d seen Marinette do it a million times.) and the fact…

‘VILLAIN OF PARIS HAS BEEN UNVEILED AS NONE OTHER THAN MILLIONAIRE FASHION DESIGNER, GABRIEL AGRESTE—’ ‘TOP TEN SIGNS GABRIEL AGRESTE WAS NOT WHO HE SEEMED—’ ‘GABRIEL AGRESTE TRIAL HAPPENING ON THE—’ ‘LADYBUG HAS GONE ON RECORD TO DEFEND HAWKMOTH’S SON, ADRIEN AGRESTE, BUT IS SHE TELLING THE TRUTH? FIND OUT MORE ON-’ ‘Omg, y'all, Adr*en is literally the son of a supervillain, and y'all are all still supporting him? Adr*en stans need to grow up.. #CancelAdrienAgreste #AntiAdrienAgreste #FuckThatBoy’ ‘He’s just a teen hoe, shut up. His dad is literally on the top 100th supervillain list, like #AntiAdrienAgreste #Hawkmoth #HawkmothSon #HawkmothIsADumbAssName.’

…Yeah, he hasn’t really touched social media in a while, has he? Heaving out a long sigh, a quiet thump echoed throughout the room as he lay his forehead on the warm wooden counter. Behind him, he can hear Sabine bustling in the kitchen, and the warmth and white noise of it all was almost enough to lull him to sleep. Before he could close his drooping eyes, however, a loud bang startled him back into his ramrod posture as he blinked wildly. “I am so sorry, but we’re closed for today—”

“ARE YOU ADRIEN AGRESTE!?”

“I—”

“DID YOU KNOW YOUR DAD WAS HAWKMOTH!?”

“No—”

“WILL YOU BE TESTIFYING AT HIS TRIAL LATER THIS WEEK!?”

“I-I don’t—”

Lights were flashing in his eyes as he heard the shutters of cameras snapping as a microphone was jabbed in his face, forcing him out of his chair and hobbling back until his back collided against the walls. He hissed as the pain on his right side flared up, but the lady with the microphone didn’t stop, as she kept yelling on and on, and with every scream, he could feel his throat closing up. His breath was short and shaky, and he knew he should take a deep breath, but it was a fight to even remain focused, his eyes blurring with tears. 

“What is going on here—!?”

Please

“We’re reporting from—”

Please just stop…

“I don’t care where you’re from; I need you to leave right now! Can’t you see you’re hurting him!?”

“There are just a few questions! It’s not our fault he’s sensitive!”

‘SENSITIVE!? YOU ARE—Adrien? ADRIEN!”

He didn’t know where he was going, but all he knew was that he needed to get out of there. .

.

.

He heard her coming from a mile away. Perks of having cat ears, he supposed. His legs were hugged close to his chest, and the usual feeling of freedom was absent from his chest. Instead, all he could feel was numb. A soft thump rang out behind him. Ladybug. She sat beside him, and they both looked out at the city from the Eiffel Tower. Ladybug knew to give him space when he was in one of his moods. She was always so kind; he doesn’t deserve her. 

A minute of quiet passed between them. 

Then “Tell your mom I’m sorry for bailing halfway through my shift.”

“What? No! Chaton, it’s alright! Mama understands. Besides, those reporters were way out of line! They were—urgh! I want to punch them! They are so lucky that Papa and I came back after they left!” Ladybug’s hands were clenched into fists as she animatedly waved them around, a fire in her eyes. Chat couldn’t help but crack a smile at her. 

“Thank you, M’lady.” Ladybug’s eyes widened, and he wished so fiercely for a moment that he could kiss the look of surprise away from her face. To lean in and close the gap between them. To be able to love and be loved back. He swallows it all down like he has done a million times and instead offers her a small smile. “I—” Even with her mask, he could see the red on her cheeks before she shook her head. “Of course, we’re partners after all, Chaton.” 

Partners. Yeah, right. He knew she was trying to make his mood better, but what a bold-faced lie. Everyone knew Chat Noir was just the sidekick meant to prop Ladybug (not that she needed it). He was always the first one knocked out, brainwashed, or otherwise incapacitated in battle, and He was the first one to get their miraculous stolen by his own goddamn father. It was always Ladybug who saved the day in the end. She was the queen and king; meanwhile, he was just some...rook.

“Yeah, yeah, we are.” The words tasted like sandpaper in his mouth. He looked away, back to the now dark skies, the air much chillier than before.

Ladybug looked at him before carefully asking, “What do you want to do after this?”

“I…” Shit, that’s a good question. Before, if he was asked this, he would have laughed it off and said something along the lines of modeling or taking over his father’s company when he stepped down. Now look at him, his modeling career firmly dead and his father being outed as the supervillain who’s been terrorizing Paris for the last 2 years. His plans for the future are as dead as his reputation is. “I don’t know. What about you?”

“Me?” “Yeah,” Chat tilted his head as he regarded her. “You have way more free time now, so?”

Ladybug hummed, as if considering her now endless possibilities. With her determination and passion, he knows she’ll go far. “Well, I’ll be able to catch up with all the sleep I lost, that’s for sure.” Counting off her fingers, she continued, “Oh! And I’ll be able to finally start on real commissions! Also, schoolwork will now be a breeze with no more Akumas breathing down my neck. Alya and I also planned some cool stuff we can do—uh! We meaning you, me, Alya, and Nino!”

“Oh,” A sense of dread fell over him as he thought of just being outside without the mask. Of having to suffer through the same looks of pity or even worse—contempt—from his friends. He tried to mask the dread with a smile, but Ladybug saw right through him, as always. “You don’t have to, of course—!” She panicked, waving her arms around. “Not that we wouldn’t want you—no, I mean yes, we want you, but no, you don’t have to—!” He reached a black leathered claw to shush her mid-ramble.

“It’s okay, Marinette. I get it.”

Flushed red, she muttered a half-hearted “no real names in public” before looking back at Paris. Paris. He once thought of it as his home because he had his friends, school, and… a family, but now? Now this city he once called home, felt suffocating. It was as if the air itself was trying to purge him out of its system. Maybe he should take the hint and run. Run somewhere far, far away, where the name Adrien Agreste means nothing. Where his past isn’t screaming in his face every day. Maybe…

“You still with me, Chat?” A red and black hand waved in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked at her, with her blue bob cut hair swaying gently in the wind and her concern written clear as day on her lovely, lovely face. And suddenly, everything he had been bottling came back with a raging vengeance, his throat burning with everything he had ever wanted to say. 

‘Your parents are wonderful people, and every time they help me, the more I want to die. Isn’t that terrible?’

‘I’m scared, Marinette. I’m so scared I’ll be known as my father’s son for the rest of my life.’

‘I don’t want to be an Agreste—hell, I don’t even know if I’m Adrien anymore. Cat Noir has outlived his usefulness, so if I can’t be Adrien or Cat Noir, then who am I?’

‘I love you so much it hurts, but I know you love someone else—your buttercup—and I don’t think I can ever recover that piece of my heart that I gave to you.’

‘I don’t think Paris is my home anymore, even after I bled and died for it more times than I could count.’

‘The pain in my sides is getting worse and worse every day, and I know that I’m running on borrowed time, even with the painkillers. I know you cry at night when you think I’m asleep, trying to find a cure, but….’

“Chaton?”

He smiles. “Let’s head back; I think we’ve worried your parents long enough.” Before she could object, he pulled out his baton and jumped off. A second later, he could make out the tall tale sound of a yo-yo slicing through the air behind him as the two of them made their quiet trip back. 

The quietness didn’t last for long, however, as he neared the bakery, he could hear the sound of people—people with expensive blocky cameras and boomboxes meant to capture every sound. The cold pit of dread morphed into a shaking anxiety as he got closer and closer to the bakery. Ladybug hissed out a “What the fuck are they doing here?” behind him. Just before he could suggest they do another lap around the city to get away, one of the reporters caught a glimpse of red, and before he knew it, all the press was wrapped around the base of the building they were on top of. 

“HELLO! MY NAME IS—”

“LADYBUG! DO YOU HAVE ANY THOUGHTS ON THE UPCOMING TRIAL AGAINST YOUR ARCHNEMESIS!?”

“NOW THAT HAWKMOTH IS BEHIND BARS, WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS MOVING FORWARD REGARDING THE CITY OF PARIS!?”

“WILL YOU BE JOINING THE JUSTICE LEAGUE YOURSELF AFTER THIS—!?”

He bit his tongue hard to keep the panic at bay as he looked down at the sea of reporters. Every time he blinked, two more seemed to duplicate, and he could feel his anxiety clawing up his throat and his hands shaking. Before he could do something dumb like throw up all his secrets, a warm hand pressed against the back of his arm, anchoring him to the present. Ladybug stepped forward and met his gaze with determination. “Go,” she mouthed before jumping down into the sea of reporters.

Cat Noir remembers when it was he who had to handle all the press, back when they just started. Ladybug would always freak out, nervously pacing back and forth and using him as a test dummy to make sure she didn’t stumble through interviews. After a while, she found her stride, and now? Looking down at her, confidently taking charge and redirecting the press with wit, he can’t help but feel that…his time has come. He was a crutch, but now, she has outgrown him. There’s no more space for him. 

Biting down a bitter smile, he jumped off the roof and continued to the Dupain-Chengs bakery. No one noticed his departure. 

.

.

.

Sliding down the trapdoor, he looks around, spotting his cane propped up next to the chaise longue he has been using as his bed for he past two weeks. On the chaise itself, there were his specially made painkillers and a bottle of water. The right side of his torso ached at the sight of them. Normal painkillers do nothing for the pain, even when the pain itself is mild, because…

(“Why is nothing working!?” Marinette was pacing around the room, ripping through her medicine cabinet as if it personally offended her. Adrien would have cracked a joke—anything to wipe off the pure look of panic on her face when she started to realize that none of her painkillers were working on him, but he was already using all his energy not to scream as the pain ravaged through his body. It was as if his body was set on fire, like his body was left in the cold for far too long, like his body was an exposed wire, and with every breath, he could feel the shocks coursing through him.

His lips were bloody from how hard he was biting them to stop the screaming. His breath was shaky and labored, and the only thing holding him together was Plagg sitting on top of his forehead, purring viciously as if it could distract him from the pain. 

Tikki hovered anxiously around Marinette before flying in front of her, stopping her from ripping the cabinet’s door clean off its hinges. “Marinette, normal painkillers won’t be able to help him.” Marinette stopped in her tracks before a manic look appeared in her eyes. “Yeah—! Yeah, you’re right, I should get the stronger stuff—I can fake a prescription! Or…or I could steal some! Yeah, okay, hold on, Chat, I’ll go.” Before she could run off and commit a felony, Tikki shook her head. “No painkillers can help him. No normal ones, at least.”

“Normal? Wait! So, you’re saying some painkillers can help him?” 

Tikki's eyes narrowed as she looked away. “I—” Before she could continue, however, Plagg cuts her off. “I know a way to help his pain.” He said, his voice determined. 

“Plagg! No, we can’t!”

Plagg ignores her, instead focusing on Marinette. “Are you in Pigtails?”

“Yes!” Marinette nodded.

Plagg took one last look and whispered, “I’ll be right back, kid,” at Adrien before flying up. Adrien whined at the sudden loss. Plagg left the room, Marinette and Tikki following after. 

“Wait—!”

He didn’t know how much time had passed. It could have been a second; it could have been hours. All he knew was that they came back with a small pink pill and slipped it into his dry mouth. The pain didn’t stop, but it was lessened, more akin to an aching throb than the absolute hell it was before. Marinette and Plagg looked relieved, while Tikki hung back.)

He later learned that the painkillers they made were special and could only be made by the Guardian of the Miraculouses. Adrien knew there was more than what they were telling him, but every time he brought up the conversation, Marinette got that panicked look in her eyes, and Plagg would throw himself against Adrien, whining about the lack of good-quality Camembert, and then he would scold Plagg, and it would just turn into a big mess.

Sighing at the memory, he sank into the couch, thumbing the pill bottle in his hand. Adrien was quick to find out that while the suit prevented him from feeling the worst of the pain, the minute he de-transformed, it would come back tenfold, even with the medication. Gritting his teeth, he washed down two of the pills before uttering a small “Claws out.” 

The pain was now a well-known enemy, and as he lay there, riding out the worst wave, his mind couldn’t help but rewind the day's events. How he couldn’t help Sabine with the decoration, how he froze up when the press came, how he couldn’t even muster up any excitement to see his friends anymore, how useless he is now that Ladybug has all but surpassed him, how he has to depend on her for his goddamn medication. All the signs were pointing to him being but a burden to those around him. He furrowed his brows as he thought.

“Hey Plagg,”

Plagg opened one of his eyes to peer at him as he lay flat on Adrien’s stomach. “Yeah, kid?”

“What do you think about…leaving?” Now that got Plagg’s attention as he opened both of his eyes to look at Adrien, curious. “Leaving? Where to? Kid, what are you up to this time?” Adrien rolled his eyes as he flicked Plagg on the head. 

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For stinking up Marinette’s room with your Camembert. I thought I told you to eat it in the bathroom.”

Plagg gasped, “Excuse me for not wanting to eat my beloved Camembert in the bathroom of all places! I am a classy guy! I can’t eat my camembert next to the toilet!” After a second, though, the Kwami sobered up as he regarded Adrien wearily. “Seriously, though, what’s with all this talk about leaving?.” 

Adrien looked away, ashamed. Plagg softened as he floated up to his face. “Come on, kid, talk to me. Why do you want to leave?” Adrien's throat burned as he choked out,

“...I—”

Before he can finish, though, a loud thump echoes out, followed closely by a thundering “WHAT!?” Plagg and Adrien looked at each other before Adrien hobbled up, grabbing his cane and heading downstairs as fast as he could. 

He’s in a cold sweat once he reaches the bottom of the stairs, the pain flaring up with each breath he takes. Plagg was looking at him and back up the attic door, but he shook his head. He already took two of the pills; he’d be fine. Leaning against the wall and using his cane to move, he poked his head around the corner to get a better view of what was happening.

Tom was back and covered in flour. His hands were covered with the stuff, but he didn’t seem to care as he ruffled his hair in agitation, spreading it around even more. He was pacing back and forth as he listened to the person on the phone. Sabine was by his side, looking both pissed and worried as she listened in. The phone wasn’t on speaker, so he couldn’t hear what was being said, but from the looks of things, it wasn’t good news.

“What do you mean? Mr.. Mayor, please reconsider! All the preparation, and 80% of the work, is already done! You can’t just cancel now!” Tom begged.

Ah, so it was the mayor then. Adrien couldn’t say he was surprised that the mayor did something like this, but why? Maybe Chloe wanted someone else to cater for the event? Still, even she acknowledged, albeit begrudgingly, that the pastries from Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie were good. So what could possibly be the reason he would cancel last minute?

“A- A CRIMINAL!? MAYOR, I CAN ASSURE YOU ADRIEN IS THE SWEETEST YOUNG MAN I HAVE EVER KNOWN! LOOK, JUST BECAUSE HIS FATHER WAS HAWKMOTH DOESN’T MEAN—”

Oh.

Of course. 

Tom and Sabine have surely noticed him at this point, but he didn’t care as he all but threw himself up the stairs and into Marinette’s room. He felt sick; a dam had broken within him, and now something was clawing up his throat, demanding to be let out. Opening the bathroom door, he stumbled to the sink, dry heaving. Nothing came out. After a minute, he thunked his head against the sink and fell to his knees onto the bathroom floor.

His side was inflamed by his kneeling, but he didn’t get up. He didn’t know if he could.

“Kid… Come on, get up and take a nap. You’ll feel better after.”

“...okay”

.

.

.

“-But shouldn’t we wake him up? It’s dinner time-!”

“-Pigtails, let him nap. He can eat after—”

“-I mean, he does have those eyebags, so I guess it’s okay—”

“-Also, we’re going to need another bottle of those painkillers, preferably a jar actually—”

“-Alright, got it. I can get that done after dinner.”

.

.

.

It was pitch black when he woke up.

Good, that will make this easier then. Gently moving Plagg off of him, he grabbed his cane and walked to the closet where his backpack was. ‘It's not great,’ he grimaced to himself as he examined the medium-sized bag in his hands. If he had his fencing bag with him, he could store more luggage, but—no, no, this will work. He can’t carry much anyway, and besides, he doesn’t have a lot of stuff anymore to begin with. With that in mind, he began scouring the room to grab all his stuff, careful not to wake up anyone. 

He grabbed all the clothes Ladybug was able to steal back from the mansion, pausing as his hand grabbed a familiar blue scarf. The one his father made for him… He remembered the first year of high school—he remembered the joy he felt when he first walked through those halls, how everything was new and unique. He remembered the exhilaration he felt when he first transformed, the first time he leaped through the skies towards danger, eager and ready to take on everything. He remembered…making his first true friends.

And now suddenly all he could think of was his friends—of Nino’s smile and fist bumps as he patiently showed him what it was like to be a teen, to have fun, to rebel, to not have to be Adrien Agreste the model and son but instead just Adrien. He thought of Alya and her bravery, of how she was always able to stand up for what’s right. To be honest, he hadn’t had the chance to talk or hang out with her much, but every time he sees her fight for what she believes in, he can’t help but feel a similar ember burn inside him. And then…he thinks of Marinette.

Marinette, his lady, his first love, his…everything. Marinette with her big expressive eyes that are always bouncing from one emotion to another, Marinette with her unyielding kindness who always helps others no matter what, and Marinette who…

(“CAT NOIR!”

Father…Father, how could he? The pain. The pain was searing, devouring him from the outside in, but all he could do was lie there as Hawkmoth ran away with their Miraculouses. He failed; he choked up at the realization. He failed to protect Paris, he failed to protect his Miraculous, and he failed…to notice his own father was Hawkmoth. 

“ADRIEN! Come on, kitty, get up. We need to regroup with the others.” Ladybug’s—no, Marinette’s face engulfed his vision as he stared up at her. She wasn’t as bruised as he was, and the thought brought him some comfort. He failed at everything else, but at least his lady came out relatively unscathed. Her hand was outstretched for him to take it. Adrien shook his head. “Ladybug. Go. Leave me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. 

Marinette stepped out of his now limited field of vision, and he couldn’t help the bitter satisfaction that welled up. Good. Now she can go make up some wacky but brilliant plan to save the day and—"Huh!?" He yelped as he was lifted into the air by his armpit. Marinette was beside him, his arm slung around her shoulders as she started to march, his dragging behind her.

“Marinette—!”

“I’m not going to leave you here, Chaton!”

“But—Hawkmoth! The wish! You’d be too late!”

Marinette’s face hardened with determination as she turned to him. “Let him make his stupid wish. We’ll just have to kick his ass afterwards.” She turned back to the ruined streets before her, carefully side-stepping the rubble. “We’re Chat Noir and Ladybug. We can do this.” Adrien, at that very moment, couldn’t help but fall in love with her all over again.)

She’d…probably be sad if he leaves, and the thought of that alone was enough to make him reconsider—to unpack everything and slip back under his cover and pretend like this never happened. He pauses and thinks. Adrien doesn’t want to admit it, but…he still wants to stick around. Paris itself might not feel like a home anymore, but his friends are still here, and they are the most amazing, talented, and kind people he has ever known.

However.

He knows that he should leave. He’s the problem, he’s the burden, and he’s the thing weighing them down. 

‘To love is to let go’—isn’t that the saying? If he loves them, then he should leave. Let them heal, let them shine, and let them forget about him until he is nothing more than a faded memory. Someone that pops up randomly in the middle of the night, someone who you ask, “Oh, hey, remember that guy?” someone who you can only recall the silhouette of. This is the right thing. He loves them, so he’ll let them go.

The packing process went smoothly after that; the blue scarf was wrapped deep at the bottom of the bag as he grabbed all his documents and debit card (it wasn’t his main card; it was an offshore one his dad gave to him one day, under a different name. He hates that he now understands why he was given it.) electronics, food, and water (not much—he doesn’t want to trouble the Dupain-Chengs any more than he already has. Just some saltine crackers and two large water bottles.) his pills, and finally…Plagg. He hesitated before slowly beginning to slip off the ring, ready to let his friend go when—

“Kid. I don’t recommend that.”

He flinched at the noise, looking up at Marinette, who thankfully was still asleep, before looking back down to Plagg. Plagg flew up from the chaise and zoomed over to his backpack as if inspecting it. He nodded at most of his choices before glaring at his food supply. “You need more food. Preferably Camembert, but anything will do.” “I can’t do that! I’ve already caused them enough trouble! I’m not going to steal more than I need!” He whisper-stammered before making an aggressive shushing motion. “Also, quiet down! I don’t want to wake up Marinette!”

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Adrien, Pigtails’s family is hardly going to notice a few of their pantry items going missing. Besides, I’m also coming along, so I need food too, you know!” He sighed dramatically, as if in great pain. “Oh, if I knew you would abuse your Kwami like this, I would have never chosen you—”

“Okay, okay!” He relented, already making his way to the trapdoor with the bag in hand before realizing, ‘Wait, wasn’t I supposed to leave him behind?’ But when he turned around, Plagg was already glaring at him, his slit eyes narrowed as if daring him to even think about trying that again. He smiles at that. Maybe…maybe he could keep at least one of his friends after all. 

Coming back with his bag stuffed full of all the Camembert in the house and a few canned beans, he gave Plagg an ‘Are you satisfied?’ before Plagg curtly nodded. “It’ll have to do.” He said. Glancing up at Marinette, Plagg asked, “Gonna write something for Pigtails?” Adrien froze at that. Right, a note. A final note. The last thing she’ll ever read from him ever again. It’s the least he could do, he thinks as he pulls out a sheet of paper and a pencil from her desk. To mitigate as much as he can and explain to her that this is for the best. 

The two of them fell silent, Plagg being nice enough not to point out the tear burning in the corner of his eyes as he folded up the letter. 

“Let’s go.” 

“Plagg, claws out.”

(And if he stopped by at every friend’s house to stare at them wishfully before departing, well, that’s between him and Plagg.)

.

.

.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. On behalf of Air France, it is my pleasure to welcome you aboard flight 192 with service from Paris, France, and continuing service to Gotham City, America. Now, please—” James turned out the rest of the lecture, instead surveying the sleeping guy that’d be his seatmate for the next 8 and a half hours. Now, usually he wouldn’t do this—he couldn’t give a rat’s ass about who his seatmate is as long as they’re quiet and not drooling on his shoulder. 

But this guy—or, he guesses, kid—looks so eerily familiar, but he can’t place his finger on it. With his bright, almost sunshine-yellow blond hair, an unhealthy sheen to his pale skin, and all-black clothes, James could have sworn he had seen this kid before. Maybe on the street? No, no, he must have seen him somewhere else, but where?

“Hello, sir! What would you like to drink?”

James snapped out of his stare. “Ah, just Coke, please, thank you.” Paying for his Coke, he decided that, eh, it didn’t matter who the kid was. So what if he looked vaguely familiar? He probably just saw the kid in the airport or something. With that in mind, he let his mind drift to other things as the plane flew them to the most dangerous city in all of America. 

Gotham. 

[writingslob]

I see you, we found your account now. Thank you Lin for finding this.

HOW DID YOU FIND ME-

NO! EVERYONE! PACK YOUR BAGS WE’RE MOVING TO ALASKA!

[dotcie]

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats  🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?  🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love 🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis 🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? 🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love 💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?  🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis 🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?  🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before 🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?  🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings 🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? 🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now 📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?  🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character 🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? 🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on ❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? 🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity 🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh  🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? 🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate 🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? 🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately  🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?  🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing 🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? 🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here ☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? 🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them 🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them 🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it 🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

[writingslob]

Just a thought, but in your emotional Lin Ling series, what if Nice wasn’t the first hero Lin Ling saved? What if way before it was civilian! X just mourning over how much work he has to do and all that stuff, and Lin Ling comes over to him and what’s wrong, unintentionally making X obsessed with him haha

ooooooo

Now that would be interesting. I can definitely see X going the more discreet route instead of kidnapping and taking Lin Ling right away. Stalking him from afar, noting down all his favorite interests and hobbies, making sure no one who can harm him gets close. The works.

After a few months of this, he would make a move and try to befriend him in both civilian form and hero form (more chances of success). After he befriends him (he’s surprised that his civilian form got better results than his hero one), he will ask if he would like to go out.

From Lin Ling's perspective, all his problems seem to have magically gone away (his asshole boss left the company, and his new one is way better; he got that promotion he always wanted (though why did his new boss look so scared while giving it to him?). And he has an amazing boyfriend to boot!)

As long as Lin Ling doesn’t notice the increase in missing people and the colorful graffiti around the city, he will continue to live his life in ignorant bliss.

If he does, though…

X will take care of it.

[maulmewithangst]

It's 2am. This night shift is driving me insane with its quiet and the people I'm with. I am running on 2 hours of sleep. I made this. Hate it or enjoy it, I don't care. I NEED MY COMMONSOUL.

●●●

Idea for a fic: Commonsoul but it's Lin Ling x OG! E-Soul who has been struggling to live a normal civilian life after recovering from his near-death experience with Yang Cheng and subsequently shedding his hero persona.

Nearly broke, jobless and burdened with chronic pain from the fight, he rooms in a modest apartment with a younger man– Lin Ling (who was annoyed because the landlord hadn't informed him of this new change nor asked for his permission, but was slightly relieved because he'd be splitting rent with someone).

An unlikely friendship slowly (and I mean SLOWLY) starts between the stiff, stoic older man and the awkward, bumbling youngster as OG!E-Soul learns to navigate normal life while keeping his old identity a secret from his annoyingly observant roommate.

Somehow he made it work. The brat and him– and he would never admit this outloud –even started growing on each other. Conversations were less clipped and formal, silences weren't as awkward, they stopped avoiding each other's presence like the first few months had been, and they've managed to construct a do-able routine where they can weave around one another without trouble.

OG!E-Soul has settled into the routine of keeping the house and cooking meals so that the brat had actual food to eat, plus it was his way of compensating while he still looked for a job.

It was near the end of the 5th month when the older man managed to snag a job. In his opinion, it was quite uncharacteristic for him to immediately think of Lin Ling, of the odd giddy feeling in his chest as the doe-eyed brunette came into mind, of coming home to Lin Ling's exhausted body slumped up on the couch where E-Soul would then land heavily on and shake the youngster awake to tell him the news.

E-Soul hoped to see his friend (?) smile in that crooked way that was slightly bothered by his horrible eyebags. He wanted to hear his voice crack when he said "congratulations!". He wanted to see those big brown doe-eyes grow even bigger and be happy for him. To look at *him.*

He stepped into their shared flat. It was late. Lin Ling should be home by now, unless that idiot boss of him made him do overtime again. Yeah, that was probably it.

Well, he supposes he can tell him tomorrow at breakfast.

.

.

.

Tomorrow came. Nobody came home. On the internet, there's a post with only two views to even notice the departure of a common soul.

"Advertisement worker [suicide] after being fired from work."

[writingslob]

OOOOOOOOOOOO

So that’s what Kiana was talking about!

[writingslob]

Hello, idk if you accept drawings but here you go!

I apologize for the math, I'm studying for an exam, you see!

Thank you so much.

WAIT I THOUGHT I RESPONDED TO THIS ALREADY NOOOOOOOOOO- *gets dragged off the stage*

Anyways! Adorable doodle! I hope you did well on the exams!

[writingslob]

SPIN-OFF: Lin Ling's guide to becoming an emotional support civilian [BIRTHDAY EDITION!]

[TO BE HERO X] x [LIN LING]

[The actual series can be found here!]

Author's note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIN LING! This is written as a crack spin-off of my main series, so this is not canonical! I hope you enjoy!

Once again, thank you @kiraisrika for the idea (And for reminding me today is Lin Ling's birthday)

.

.

.

Nice was stressed.

E-Soul was running around at top speed, setting decorations, but they were all crooked, so Nice had to follow behind him and fix them. Even though that wasn’t his job. No, his job was to make sure everything was on schedule, but nothing was! It has been 50 minutes since X and Ahu were sent to go pick up the cake (somewhere he doesn’t know, mind you). The only reason he allowed it was because X promised him they sold the best cake, and Lin Ling deserved the best. But! It has been 50 minutes! Where the hell are they!? (X can fucking teleport!) 

Behind him, as he straightened another streamer, he could hear Lucky Cyan arguing over the phone, telling the backup singers and dancers if they didn’t get over to the right location in time, she would personally make sure they were blacklisted from the industries forever. Loli, on the other hand, hasn’t even arrived yet, even though she was supposed to help Lucky Cyan and her team set up the stage for Lin Ling’s birthday concert. (There’s a text in the ‘Number 1. Lin Ling fan group’ which states that she would be late as she’s still putting the finishing touches on his gift. No one has seen it.) 

Dragon Boy and Ghostblade were busting in the kitchen, and he could hear the arguments and swearing from where he was standing. 

“You shouldn’t have put in that much butter. It’s not healthy for Lin Ling.”  Dragon boy snaps back, “IT’S HIS BIRTHDAY, OLD MAN!”  “So? I don’t want him to be as unhealthy as you.” Ghostblade calmly replies, cutting his chopping. “HUH!? WANT TO SAY THAT TO MY FACE, GRANDPA!?” 

Originally, they planned to hire the best catering company. But, when Lin Ling shyly told them that he preferred food made by his friends,. Well, how could they deny him that? (The catering company was not happy with the late cancellation, but Queen and Ghostblade took care of it.) Speaking of Queen, he looked over to what she was doing, only to drop the banner he was fixing because—

“WHY IS THERE A ZOO IN HERE!?” The Johnnies looked over to him and glared at him witherly. The animals behind him give him the same look. “Because Lin Ling said he always wanted to visit a petting zoo, so this is our gift.” A faux look of surprise overcame his face as he looked at Nice. “Oh! Wait, no, you weren’t there when Lin Ling said that on our date. What. A. Shame.” Nice felt a blood vessel burst at Johnnie’s smug look. Before he could kill him, Queen intervened. 

“Enough. From both of you. Lin Ling is set to come back any minute now. Get in your places.” She orders through gritted teeth. It was loud enough that everyone heard, and immediately complaints were raised.

“I HAVEN’T FINISHED FIXING EVERYTHING!”

“HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO HIDE ALL THESE ANIMALS!?”

“...” 

“THE STAFF WON’T COME IN TIME!”

“WE STILL HAVE 5 DISHES THAT NEED MORE TIME TO COOK.”

“SHUT UP!” The queen’s power takes effect, and Nice can feel his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth and his throat close up. He settles on glaring at her instead. She meets his and everyone’s glare head-on. “I don’t care about whether you finished your part or not. Lin Ling is coming. GET. IN. YOUR. PLACES.” His finger itches as his brain reminds him how many imperfections there still are (Lin Ling only deserves the best, after all.) But he backs down and flies over to his hiding spot beside the elevator. Nice can see everyone scatter, and the lights are turned off; the apartment is now pitch black. (Loli had designed automated curtains after Lin Ling muttered how he couldn’t sleep well because of the city lights.)

Waiting in the dark, Nice can only hear the sound of faint shuffling and soft breaths as they wait. Soon, the sound of the elevator rising and the glowing number up top illuminating what floor the elevator’s on—what floor Lin Ling is on. 

15

14

13

12

11

Nice’s hand spasms. Just one more floor. Then Lin Ling can be in his arms once more. (He already misses him.)

10

The elevator door opens. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIN LING!!!”

X blinks back at them, a cake box sitting innocently in his hands. Ahu at his feet. They stood in silence before Dragon Boy groaned. “OH COME ON! WHERE THE FUCK IS LIN LING!?” That shout broke everyone out of the silence, and soon, everyone else was groaning and bemoaning the fact that Lin Ling wasn’t here. X blinked again. “Don’t worry, he’s coming soon. Very soon.” Taking a look around the place, the smile on his face turned into a slight grimace. “This looks…nice.” X turns to Nice. “No pun intended.” Nice, waves him off. “Whatever, just hand me the cake.”

X looks confused. “Why?”

“I’m going to greet Lin Ling with it.” Obviously. 

Before X can respond, Lucky Cyan jogs over. “Now hold on, why do you get to be the one to greet Lin Ling first with the cake?” Nice scoffs, “Because I’m his favorite, obviously. Now give it.” Before Nice can take it out of X's hands, X raises it above his head. His smile was now one of amusement. “His favorite? And here I thought I was number 1.” 

Nice opens his mouth to retort (X? The favorite? Please, Nice has been here the longest.) When the cake box is ripped out of X’s hand, Dragon Boy crackles manically. “Ha! And why would he want to hang out with you old fucks? You know what? I’ll take this cake and Lin Ling, and we’ll celebrate his birthday. Privately.” Everyone saw red, and what transpired was a battle to the death. Punches were thrown along with all manner of weapons as they ducked out; who could hold the cake? 

They were so engrossed in their battle, in fact, that they didn’t hear the opening of elevator doors or the sound of footsteps approaching the battlefield before—

“What are you guys doing?”

Instantly, a feeling of calm washes over him as Lin Ling draws closer. However, the calm is instantly replaced with panic as he sees E-Soul kick the cake. It soars above them all as it flies directly over to Lin Ling. Nice tries to push him out of the way, and X has his hands ready to snap, but it’s too late as—

SPLAT

They all watch in horror as chunks of cake and frosting drip down Lin Ling’s head, splattering onto the ground below. The room is defensively quiet, and even with Lin Ling in arm’s reach, Nice can feel his heartbeat reach a crescendo. (Because Lin Ling is going to hate him because of this. This was supposed to be the perfect day—everything was supposed to be perfect. How did he fuck up this badly? Oh god, Lin Ling hasn’t moved. He’s going to hate it. What can he do? What can he do? WHAT CAN HE DO? Clean up. He can clean Lin Ling up and then beg for his forgiveness. Right, he can do that. Oh god, why won’t Lin Ling say anything—?)

Lin Ling laughs. 

Everyone freezes.

Ling Ling clutched his stomach and stumbled as he laughed. The laugh was loud, bright, and ugly, and Nice fell in love once more. It lasted for a few minutes, and everyone stared transfixed as Lin Ling's laugh turned into a giggle. His eyes were bright with joy. “Is…is this supposed to be my birthday party?” Someone nodded behind Nice. Lin Ling’s smile grew even bigger. “Then this is the best birthday party I have ever had!” His eyes soften. “Thank you.”

The party went smoothly after that. 

(“Hi guys! Sorry, Lin Ling, for being late—huh!? You already started without me!?”)

[writingslob]

SPIN-OFF: Lin Ling's guide to becoming an emotional support civilian [BIRTHDAY EDITION!]

[TO BE HERO X] x [LIN LING]

[The actual series can be found here!]

Author's note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIN LING! This is written as a crack spin-off of my main series, so this is not canonical! I hope you enjoy!

Once again, thank you @kiraisrika for the idea (And for reminding me today is Lin Ling's birthday)

.

.

.

Nice was stressed.

E-Soul was running around at top speed, setting decorations, but they were all crooked, so Nice had to follow behind him and fix them. Even though that wasn’t his job. No, his job was to make sure everything was on schedule, but nothing was! It has been 50 minutes since X and Ahu were sent to go pick up the cake (From some bakery he doesn’t know, mind you). The only reason he allowed it was because X promised him they sold the best cake, and Lin Ling deserved the best. But! It has been 50 minutes! Where the hell are they!? (X can fucking teleport!) 

Behind him, as he straightened another streamer, he could hear Lucky Cyan arguing over the phone, telling the backup singers and dancers if they didn’t get over to the right location in time, she would personally make sure they were blacklisted from the industries forever. Loli, on the other hand, hasn’t even arrived yet, even though she was supposed to help Lucky Cyan and her team set up the stage for Lin Ling’s birthday concert. (There’s a text in the ‘Number 1. Lin Ling fan group’ which states that she would be late as she’s still putting the finishing touches on his gift. No one has seen it.) 

Dragon Boy and Ghostblade were busting in the kitchen, and he could hear the arguments and swearing from where he was standing. 

“You shouldn’t have put in that much butter. It’s not healthy for Lin Ling.”  Dragon boy snaps back, “IT’S HIS BIRTHDAY, OLD MAN!”  “So? I don’t want him to be as unhealthy as you.” Ghostblade calmly replies, continuing his chopping. “HUH!? WANT TO SAY THAT TO MY FACE, GRANDPA!?” 

Originally, they planned to hire the best catering company. But, when Lin Ling shyly told them that he preferred food made by his friends. Well, how could they deny him that? (The catering company was not happy with the late cancellation, but Queen and Ghostblade took care of it.) Speaking of Queen, he looked over to what she was doing, only to drop the banner he was fixing because—

“WHY IS THERE A ZOO IN HERE!?” The Johnnies looked over to him and glared at him witherly. The animals behind him give him the same look. “Because Lin Ling said he always wanted to visit a petting zoo, so this is our gift.” A faux look of surprise overcame his face as he looked at Nice. “Oh! Wait, no, you weren’t there when Lin Ling said that on our date. What. A. Shame.” Nice felt a blood vessel burst at Johnnie’s smug look. Before he could kill him, Queen intervened. 

“That’s Enough from the both of you. Lin Ling is set to come back any minute now. Get in your places.” She orders through gritted teeth. It was loud enough that everyone heard, and immediately complaints were raised.

“I HAVEN’T FINISHED FIXING EVERYTHING!”

“HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO HIDE ALL THESE ANIMALS!?”

“...” 

“THE STAFF WON’T COME IN TIME!”

“WE STILL HAVE 5 DISHES THAT NEED MORE TIME TO COOK.”

“SHUT UP!” Queen’s power takes effect, and Nice can feel his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth and his throat close up. He settles on glaring at her instead. She meets his and everyone’s glare head-on. “I don’t care about whether you finished your part or not. Lin Ling is coming. GET. IN. YOUR. PLACES.” His finger itches as his brain reminds him how many imperfections there still are (Lin Ling only deserves the best, after all.) But he backs down and flies over to his hiding spot beside the elevator. Nice can see everyone scatter, and the lights are turned off; the apartment is now pitch black. (Loli had designed automated curtains after Lin Ling muttered how he couldn’t sleep well because of the city lights.)

Waiting in the dark, Nice can only hear the sound of faint shuffling and soft breaths as they wait. Soon, the sound of the elevator rising and the glowing number up top illuminating what floor the elevator’s on—what floor Lin Ling is on. 

15

14

13

12

11

Nice’s hand spasms. Just one more floor. Then Lin Ling can be in his arms once more. (He already misses him.)

10

The elevator door opens. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIN LING!!!”

X blinks back at them, a cake box sitting innocently in his hands. Ahu at his feet. They stood in silence before Dragon Boy groaned. “OH COME ON! WHERE THE FUCK IS LIN LING!?” That shout broke everyone out of the silence, and soon, everyone else was groaning and bemoaning the fact that Lin Ling wasn’t here. X blinked again. “Don’t worry, he’s coming soon. Very soon.” Taking a look around the place, the smile on his face turned into a slight grimace. “This looks…nice.” X turns to Nice. “No pun intended.” Nice, waves him off. “Whatever, just hand me the cake.”

X looks confused. “Why?”

“I’m going to greet Lin Ling with it.” Obviously. 

Before X can respond, Lucky Cyan jogs over. “Now hold on, why do you get to be the one to greet Lin Ling first with the cake?” Nice scoffs, “Because I’m his favorite, obviously. Now give it.” Before Nice can take it out of X's hands, X raises it above his head. His smile was now one of amusement. “His favorite? And here I thought I was number 1.” 

Nice opens his mouth to retort (X? The favorite? Please, Nice has been here the longest.) When the cake box is ripped out of X’s hand, Dragon Boy crackles manically. “Ha! And why would he want to hang out with you old fucks?” His grins widens “You know what? I’ll take this cake and Lin Ling, and we’ll celebrate his birthday. Privately.” Everyone saw red, and what transpired was a battle to the death. Punches were thrown along with all manner of weapons as they ducked out who could hold the cake.

They were so engrossed in their battle, in fact, that they didn’t hear the opening of elevator doors or the sound of footsteps approaching the battlefield before—

“What are you guys doing?”

Instantly, a feeling of calm washes over him as Lin Ling draws closer. However, the calm is instantly replaced with panic as he sees E-Soul kick the cake. It soars above them all as it flies directly over to Lin Ling. Nice tries to push him out of the way, and X has his hands ready to snap, but it’s too late as—

SPLAT

They all watch in horror as chunks of cake and frosting drip down Lin Ling’s head, splattering onto the ground below. The room is deafeningly quiet, and even with Lin Ling in arm’s reach, Nice can feel his heartbeat reach a crescendo. (Because Lin Ling is going to hate him because of this. This was supposed to be the perfect day—everything was supposed to be perfect. How did he fuck up this badly? Oh god, Lin Ling hasn’t moved. He’s going to hate it. What can he do? What can he do? WHAT CAN HE DO? Clean up. He can clean Lin Ling up and then beg for his forgiveness. Right, he can do that. Oh god, why won’t Lin Ling say anything—?)

Lin Ling laughs. 

Everyone freezes.

Ling Ling clutched his stomach and stumbled as he laughed. The laugh was loud, bright, and ugly, and Nice fell in love once more. It lasted for a few minutes, and everyone stared transfixed as Lin Ling's laugh turned into a giggle. His eyes were bright with joy. “Is…is this supposed to be my birthday party?” Someone nodded behind Nice. Lin Ling’s smile grew even bigger. “Then this is the best birthday party I have ever had!” His eyes soften. “Thank you.”

The party went smoothly after that. 

(“Hi guys! Sorry, Lin Ling, for being late—huh!? You already started without me!?”)

[greatestf00l]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE PEOPLE'S PRINCESS

Made two to satisfy myself

[writingslob]

TODAY IS HIS BIRTHDAY!????

[kakalu697]

I'm fcking shameless I'm gonna link my Lin ling and Nice siblings AU here like an idiot

"roll that Take"

[azrail-emer]

Incorrect quotes drawn (TBHX - 1)

Guess who got a strain in their wrist??

Literally haven’t been able to draw. I blame @writingslob. Dude, that damn fanart put a strain in my wrist. Now my art kinda look weird.

Anyhow, saw this incorrect quote stuff and because I’m into TBHX, I had to draw it. (Also, kinda reminded me of Nice.)

Text:

Nice: I’ve got an ✨idea✨

Miss J: We’re NOT going to murder ANYONE!

Nice: I don’t have any ideas.

-Azz

(Quote by Penny Arcade? Sorry but not sorry for the @)

[writingslob]

WHAT DID I DO?????

(AMAZING ART I LOVE UNHINGED NICE)

[azrail-emer]

MAKING YOUR ART PUT ME IN PAIN!!! I HAD A FREAKOUT DURING MY FREE PERIOD, AND I GOT THE WORST LOOKS EVER!

[writingslob]

I AM SO SORRY!!! DRINK WATER AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!!!

[azrail-emer]

Incorrect quotes drawn (TBHX - 1)

Guess who got a strain in their wrist??

Literally haven’t been able to draw. I blame @writingslob. Dude, that damn fanart put a strain in my wrist. Now my art kinda look weird.

Anyhow, saw this incorrect quote stuff and because I’m into TBHX, I had to draw it. (Also, kinda reminded me of Nice.)

Text:

Nice: I’ve got an ✨idea✨

Miss J: We’re NOT going to murder ANYONE!

Nice: I don’t have any ideas.

-Azz

(Quote by Penny Arcade? Sorry but not sorry for the @)

[writingslob]

WHAT DID I DO?????

(AMAZING ART I LOVE UNHINGED NICE)