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carpetbug · 5 months ago

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La Llorona (3.2k)

read below or on ao3 • [tw: attempted drowning]

“It was true that he didn’t remember when he learned to swim, but he did remember his mother teaching him. That was a big part of why he was quickly getting tired of the topic matter at hand.”

“I don’t really remember when I learned how to swim,” Adrien shrugged, chin resting on his right hand as he passed the few remaining minutes of class conversing with his friends. Alya’s face turned down into a playful frown at his response, clearly unsatisfied with such a weak answer. Marinette watched the conversation in amusement while mindlessly chewing on a pencil—one already covered in teeth marks. They had all already told their own stories: Nino had been a natural swimmer, Marinette had to take a few years of swimming lessons, and Alya had told some kind of story about almost drowning at a water park with her older sister. Adrien hadn’t been able to follow that one very well.

“You can’t even remember bits and pieces?” she prompted. He felt like he was in some weird interview.

“Maybe you were just born knowing how to do everything, huh?” Nino teased from beside him before poking him with an elbow. He had started the conversation in the first place by mentioning how his little brother Chris had just started swimming lessons. Apparently, Chris was not enjoying them.

Adrien shrugged again, not entirely wanting to try and muster up bygone memories. “Oh, I don’t know, I must have learned at the hotel's pool with Chloe,” he awkwardly explained, trying to string together a story his friends would believe. When he really tried to remember, all he could see was fragmented pictures of his maman in her swimsuit, arms outstretched in a shallow pool that lapped around her waist. He could smell, slightly taste, the chlorine. It was true that he didn’t remember when he learned to swim, but he did remember his mother teaching him. That was a big part of why he was quickly getting tired of the topic matter at hand.

“Ugh, understood. If I had grown up being best friends with that girl I would also try to forget it,” Nino joked, making Alya and Marinette laugh. Adrien copied the sound—he had given up trying to justify Chloe’s place in his life, and even he wasn’t entirely sure she belonged there anymore—but the laugh he let out wasn’t nearly convincing enough.

Three pairs of eyes were immediately on him, stunning him into silence. It was like he had failed some invisible test.

The quiet held for a second too long before they started blurting apologies.

“Shit, dude, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that, I know Chloe’s your friend and—”

“Yeah we didn’t mean to laugh, Adrien, we weren’t thinking.”

Marinette opened her mouth to begin her explanation when Adrien anxiously shut them down. “Guys, guys, it’s okay! I know you guys don’t like Chloe, but I also know you guys respect our friendship. It’s fine, really,” he assured them, squeezing Ninos shoulder comfortingly as he talked. “Anyways—,” he was desperate to get the attention off him “Why is Chris hating swim lessons?”

Nino laughed and began flapping his hands excitedly in the air, the previous tension quickly forgotten. “You’re never going to believe this, he’s scared of ‘La Llorona’.”

“‘The crying woman’? Isn’t she some kind of, like, Mexican folklore story to scare little kids?” Alya questioned, leaning towards her boyfriend enthusiastically.

“That’s exactly what I said! I was like ‘Chris, bro, we live in Paris. She’s all the way in Mexico, busy doing ghost things, no way she’s going to get you.’ But he’s convinced she’s out to find him! I don’t even know where he learned about it,” Nino recounted, laughing as he went. Maybe it was kinda childish to be scared of a ghost in a distant country; but in Chris’s defense, Adrien also felt uneasy about ghosts.

The idea of being haunted made his skin crawl.

“I’ve never heard of her. What’s the folklore?” he asked curiously, interest piqued.

“It’s actually kind of a gruesome story,” Marinette spoke up, but quickly looked like she regretted it as eyes turned to her. She looked down at her hands and fidgeted with the chewed pencil as she continued. “There’s a lot of different versions, but the most common one is a woman fell in love with a wealthy man, had his children, caught him cheating, and drowned their kids out of rage. Then she regretted it and drowned herself out of guilt, leaving her weeping ghost to haunt rivers and streams, crying out for her children. It’s usually used to keep kids away from bodies of water, especially at night. Supposedly if you hear her sobs, she’ll find you, then drown you when she realizes you aren’t her child.” Marinette shivered with the final sentence, clearly recalling something. She combed her fingers through a pigtail and let out a tense giggle. “My grandma goes on trips all over the world. She went to Mexico when I was in kindergarten, then decided to tell me that story when she got back. I was scared of the seine for months, so I can’t really blame Chris.”

“Your parents must have been mad.” Alya smirked.

“My mom definitely was! She was convinced I would never get over it, and I’d have a fear of water all my life. I forgot about it when summer came around and I got to go to the pool.” The girls were talking now, carried away with their own conversation.

Adrien didn’t mind. He was busy mulling over the new story.

“—rien? Adrien!” Nino shook him hard, eyeing him up and down like his friend had done something suspicious. It felt almost invasive, and made Adrien squirm in his seat. “Dude, you’re out of it. What are you thinking about?”

He stopped, and thought for a moment. Then the words got the better of him and before he could stop it the question spilled out. “Do you think she loved them?” Adrien asked, eyes locked with Nino’s.

“Who? The—La Llorona? I mean, I guess she loved her kids. All parents do, right?”

“No, I mean—I mean do you think she did it because she loved them?”

Adrien’s attention turned to the phone in his hand, a notification lighting up his lockscreen. It usually rotated through different pictures he had picked out, but right now it was settled on one of him and his mother. “Do you think she drowned them because she loved them, maybe just too much?”

Before Nino could respond, the bell rang out. Class was over, Adrien needed to go home, and Nino had to take Chris to his swim lesson.

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Maman looked so pretty in the pool. The way her hair shined in the sun, and the corners of her mouth wrinkled when she smiled. The clear, bright blue water that stopped at her knees. The thin silver band on her left ring finger reflected the sun brightly, as did the silver feather earrings dangling from her ears. She always wore jewelry. Her green eyes reminded him of the grass that grew beside water in the books she’d read him. It made him happy to have the same green eyes.

Adrien was four years old, right at the age where he was blathering out any words he could, and consciously exploring all the different sensations that came with being alive. But today he had a swimming lesson, which meant listening to his mother.

Emilie stood, merely a foot away on the second step, cooing and trying to coax her living ball of sunshine to dip a foot in the pool. “Adrien, darling, I promise the pool won’t hurt you,” she assured, leaning over and slipping a few fingers into his palm to grasp. He did so tightly, then slowly stepped down onto the first step into the pool. It was cool, almost ticklish, against his skin and thankfully only rose to his shins at this height.

“See!” she smiled, almost purring the words. She pulled her fingers from his grasp, lowered to the bottom step, and splashed the summer water towards her little student. He giggled and shielded his face, though the splash only reached his stomach. “Next step, now.”

Adrien’s laugh caught in his throat. The next step was deep, too deep, but… she was standing right there, lip-glossed smile beaming at him.

She wouldn’t make him go too deep. Maman was safe.

He stepped forward cautiously, missing the tight grip he had on her hand just before, and slowly found his footing. The water now pooled just above his hips, the sloshing waves from their movement gently pulling him this way and that. His arms hovered above the water's surface at his sides, refusing to fall victim to the pool just yet.

“You’re a natural, little minnow!” Emilie cheered, then sucked in her cheeks and pursed her lips to make a kissy face, trying to imitate a fish. Only she looked more like she had bitten into a much too sour lemon, which made Adrien laugh again, even harder this time. His arms dropped slightly and an elbow dipped into the water, making him squeal suddenly.

“It’s cold, Maman!” he whimpered, wanting to retreat back to the shaded table where their towels and pool supplies resided while they swam. Adrien’s gaze was locked over his shoulder on the dry, warm spot a few feet away when Emilie snapped her fingers to get his attention again.

It worked immediately.

“Darling, it’s the perfect temperature. Don’t let the water scare you,” she comforted him, reaching out again to offer a hand to hold. Adrien’s smaller hand took it urgently. “Last step.”

If the previous step had come anywhere close to scary, the last step was utterly daunting. Plunging one foot further into the depths of the water, the surface rose up to his chin. When he tried to lift his other foot it felt rooted to the concrete stair that held him above the water, and he couldn’t find the strength to rip off the bandaid. Thankfully, Emilie had strength to spare for her minnow, and using her free hand she hooked two fingers around his ankle, then sternly pulled it to the final step.

“Ah-ah-ah,” she cooed in her sing-songy voice, hands receding from the young boys’ space again before pushing at the bottom of his chin. His mouth opened to protest but she tilted his head back, letting his golden hair fall and soak up the chlorine-rich water..

Now the water lapped at the edges of his face as he stood, tiptoed, and tilted back. He looked up towards the sky, closing his eyes to block out the harsh sun, and urgently trying not to panic over the water sloshing in his ears. His arms floated in the water at his sides, and he was too aware of the open space where nothing could be grabbed onto. Adrien could hardly hear Emilie, if she was singing her praises at all, but if it was because of his submerged ears or his racing heart he couldn’t tell. After a few seconds—a few too many for small Adrien—she plucked him from the step and placed him on her hip, giving him a moment to rub the water from his hair and ears.

“Wonderful, mon bébé!” She was laughing as she whirled him through the pool, hands tucked under his armpits as they spun in excited circles. “Was that so bad?”

Adrien waited until they stilled to respond. “My ears went under the water,” he muttered, trying to balance in her grasp and holding onto her shoulders. “My eyes were closed, too. I was scared.”

Emilie pouted, maybe trying to give him a sympathetic frown, but it only made him feel smaller. It was the kind of look that a passersby gave a baby throwing a tantrum. “You’re okay,” she assured gently, holding him against her chest and lifting a hand from the water to push a wet strand of golden hair from his forehead. He leaned into the touch of her palm. “When you’re with Maman or Père, you’re always okay.” Their eyes locked and Emilie’s smile dropped. Her left thumb slowly grazed over her ring when she continued. “You know that, right, little minnow?”

The words spilled out before he even knew what he was going to say. “Yes, Maman.”

Yes, he was okay so long as Maman and Papa were there. Mother and Father would always keep him safe.

“Wonderful, darling. Now, let’s try doggy paddling.”

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It had been a grueling hour in the pool, consisting mainly of Adrien clinging either to his mother’s shoulders or the wall of the pool. The doggy paddling had been too scary, treading water was too exhausting, and floating on his back was too overwhelming.

Worst of all, Emilie was starting to get angry. She had even screamed at him when he tried clambering out of the pool.

Adrien hated making Maman angry. Her eyebrows would twitch when she furrowed them together, and she often brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. It made him feel stupid, and wrong, like he had broken some rule. Sometimes—though Adrien wouldn’t admit it for many years to come—it made him angry too. Angry enough to want to rip piano keys out of their places. Angry enough to want to destroy things with a single touch.

Angry enough to try and climb out of the pool during a swimming lesson. Which was, of course, unacceptable.

“Honestly, Adrien, you’re behaving like a brat! Are you stupid?” She snapped, top lip pulled back in a snarl, letting her canines shine in the sun. Adrien could feel them closing in on him. Even at her worst, he only wanted her to hold him close. It never really mattered if he was alive or dead when she did it—he just wished she wouldn’t yell.

“I’m scared, M-Maman!” He hiccuped, clinging desperately to the roughly textured wall. It stung the pruning skin of his fingers, threatening to cut his raw fingertips. Adrien didn't notice over his own sobs and wracked breathing.

“Stop crying already!” Emilie lunged forward to rip her son from the wall, ignoring his wails of refusal. He urgently grabbed for the wall as she carried him towards the middle of the water, muttering under her breath. The only things Adrien could pick up was ‘useless fucking kid’ and ‘made you to be better than this’.

The words didn’t fully register in his panic-stricken brain. The only thing he knew for certain was real in that moment was the steady stream of warm tears pouring from his eyes. Until Maman reached out, palm cupping his tear stained cheek, and gently wiped at the droplets clinging to his eyelashes. Adrien’s eyes opened and took her in, eyes half-lidded and eyebrows pressed together. She was as comforting as she was terrifying, which was an intense combination of emotions for four year old Adrien.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again. There’s nothing to be scared of,” she said intensely.

It made the tears stop and hiccups pause—it even took some of his breath away. Adrien’s mother was like a being of pure emotion, raw and untethered, changing at the snap of her fingers. Emilie could play people like a violin, and this was her philosophy when it came to maternal matters.

“Nothing to be scared of,” he whispered in repetition, eyes still glued to hers. His muscles relaxed, and he softened into his mothers hold. Truthfully, Adrien always thought it was much more comfortable once he stopped fighting.

Emilie smiled and nodded, then turned to look at the empty pool around them. Her hair was still radiant in the sun, but now the ends had gotten soggy and knotted as they dipped in and out of the water.

“M-Maman, can we stop now?” Adrien asked softly, unable to stop the trembling pout his lips formed. “Please?”

She blinked. Swallowed, then clicked her tongue against her teeth. It was a nauseating sound. “Only if you can swim, little minnow.” His body froze when her eyes targeted back onto him, his stomach turning when he saw her gaping smile. “Show me how you swim.”

In the blink of an eye, Adrien was forced under the surface, water overtaking his mouth and nose before he even thought to close or cover them. It stung, like a wasp had crawled through his throat and made a nest in his lungs, infesting him from the inside out. He gasped for air, desperate to cool the burning taking hold of his chest, but only inhaled water.

He was screaming, crying, violently thrashing in the water as he tried to breach the surface. The sounds only left his mouth in muted air bubbles, floating past his vision to the surface his body screamed for. But it was useless against the tightly gripped hand around his throat.

Maybe Maman just couldn’t hear him when he was so deep under the water. Maman wouldn’t mean to hurt him.

The water churned against his limbs, thwarting his efforts to kick and paddle back to air. He was quickly losing hope that there was any kind of escape. This is what baby birds who fall from their nest too early must feel like. Weak, defenseless, kicking and screaming and fighting to stay alive in a terrain that only wants them dead.

At least those birds can breathe.

Adrien stopped fighting when fatigue overtook him. His legs went limp and arms crossed his torso, enveloping himself in a tight hug under the water. There was some comfort to be found in that, even in the worst situations. He let the water envelop him, too tired to continue. His muscles eased, repeating the lesson he’d learned just before. Pain and terror are so much more comfortable once you stop trying to fight them.

His eyes closed. His body stopped screaming.

Then it was over.

Fresh air swarmed his lungs, bringing up the chlorinated water he’d swallowed. It tasted like stomach acid and summer.

“My poor little minnow,” Emilie murmured as she sat him on the wall of the pool. He coughed and gagged as she slowly rubbed his back, occasionally raising her hand to pet his soaked, ruffled hair. Her voice—usually spilling over with emotion—was monotone and brief, like she was stating a fact. There was no comfort in her words, only recognition that he was suffering. No apology, no explanation. No loving coos and empty promises of safety. Only a mother and her son.

“I-I couldn’t breathe, why Ma—” he sputtered, coughing and stumbling over the words.

She cut him short.“I already said, Adrien. No more squalling.”

He was quiet. His lungs still ached and his throat felt like it was burning, but his lips remained sealed. Any screams or cries were trapped out of his reach.

“You’re okay, aren’t you? No blood, no bruises. Good as new.” She beamed at him. “Nothing bad happened, darling. Let’s get you toweled off and head inside for lunch. You can learn to swim tomorrow.”

Emilie swam through the pool, leaving Adrien sitting on the edge. He watched her silently as she ascended the steps out of the water and made her way to him, then plucked him from the ground like a feather. He usually loved when Maman would carry him around on her hip. This time he felt like a prisoner of sorts, anchored to her side while his own emotions, thoughts, and wants were cast aside to cater to his warden.

“Yes, Maman.”

#carpetbug writes #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml #adrien #adrien agreste #emilie agreste #emilie #la llorona fic #one shot #ml fic #spits this at you and runs away like a scared lizard #sharing my writing makes me so much more anxious than my art for some reason lmao #anyways. hope yall enjoy

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