asukiess
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- Miraculous Ladybug (18)
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“I keep dreaming of her.” Words come wearily like soft rain, a sleep debt unpayable by the minute gently slurring her sentences. “We’re back and we don’t leave. We don’t have to. She’s there and we did it, sir, we—” She sighs, a cry shuddering underneath like thunder. “It’s not her. I can’t keep her. I can’t hold onto her smile.” Her voice dampens, slows, loses hope. “Because that isn’t what she would do, is it, sir?”
In Gabriel’s chest a slip-stitched suture comes undone. He sets his jaw, wrestles with his argument. She would—she will, he knows. They just haven’t proven themselves, haven’t proved much at all except for how much failure they can rack up together, him and her and all the miles between the three of them. Always harder on Nathalie, whose mind is too focused on the now, the fights she doesn’t disclose to him except in clipped annotations, never saying much about her relationship with Emilie. Flashing resentment in her eyes, as if the leash that hangs from her neck noose-like and slack doesn’t beg for a hand.
And he who knows her best, knows for what she longs, insatiable to the point of self-harm, is a punishment.
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“Look at me,” Emilie entreats, leaning forward as Nathalie leans away, shrinking in on herself, ignoring the command. Shoulders stiff, hands restless on the bed as if they’d kissed chastely and nothing more. She can’t even hide the wavering of her apology, quiet though it is.
“What happened, Nathalie?”
Nathalie closes her eyes, letting out a sigh. Her throat too constricted for words.
Hand beneath her chin now, lifting it up. Pink-orange light through her eyelids. “Well, this isn’t just jet lag,” huffs Emilie. “I think you can admit that much to me."
Nathalie opens her eyes, meeting Emilie's with intensity. Tears pooling on Emilie’s hand cupping her cheek.
Tenderly, Emilie drops her voice. “Out there—Did something happen between you and—?”
Nathalie makes a mistake. Emilie helps absolve her.
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after another failed attempt at finding a cure for émilie, a few of nathalie's old colleagues catch her out on what seems to be a date with her boss.
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Just as he had been born for her, she’d been born for this. Looking down at the creation of her own making, her own desperate wish manifested, she praised how well he lied. So human, he told with his pricked-purple skin and ten toes and ten fingers, his golden hair thickened with tissue and blood. So human, and yet there was a palpable thrumming in her wedding ring, a hummingbird’s heartbeat around her finger that now made her more than a wife—it made her a mother.
So human. From viscera, with love. Just like any other.
or: everyone comes to terms with adrien's arrival.
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the light that throws itself on everything,
stretching twice, at dusk and again at dawn,
agrees to stay, but only for a while.
Recent series
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- Words:
- 14,661
- Works:
- 1
- Bookmarks:
- 7
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By design a business should be the sum of moving parts; a solitary looking grandfather clock that’s actually run by hundreds of cogs. But Gabriel was a sundial, and Agreste was both the stone and the shadow that it cast.
Bookmarked by asukiess
22 Jan 2026
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It was an accident. Or, rather, it wasn't *her* fault. *Honestly*. Didn't they *know* she watched the security camera footage each day?! It was *their* security system!
Still, maybe Nathalie wasn't *completely* innocent. After all... *she* was the one that didn't look away when she realized what was happening.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,695
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 4
- Kudos:
- 9
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- 1
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- 231
Bookmarked by asukiess
19 Jan 2026
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dead·head
/ˈdedˌ(h)ed/
verb
remove dead flower heads from (a plant) to encourage further blooming.The roses see her coming before he does.
Bookmarked by asukiess
12 Jan 2026
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Emilie Graham de Vanily was ever so fond of things that bumped in the night. Nathalie Sancoeur happened to be one of them.
Bookmarked by asukiess
17 Dec 2025
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In the rules of the universe—an eye for an eye, a life for a life—Gabriel Agreste’s new world is simple. His wife is alive. Ladybug is dead. All is as it should be.
But why, sometimes, does he hear whispers of her name? See red and black out of the corner of his eye? Why does he awaken with marks, thin as a yo-yo string, around his neck? Why does Adrien look at him like he knows what he’s done—and why does Emilie look at him like his sacrifice means nothing at all?
It takes him far too long to confront whether his victory really is one at all. Whether the life he’d sacrificed was Ladybug’s at all, or that of the girl beneath the mask.
Bookmarked by asukiess
14 Dec 2025