#Felix Bourgeois perhaps

[tumblingxelian]

Chloe Knows:

Apparently game Chloe knows Marinette is Ladybug, so I wrote this:

Summary: Chloé Bourgeois is perhaps the last person Marinette expected to see on her roof after having lost the Miraculous to Felix.

Chloé Bourgeois is also probably the person Marinette least wants to see on her roof.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Chloe knows more than she's ever let on and that complicates things, but it just might end up helping too.

Chloe Knows:

The last thing Marinette expected to deal with right now was Chloe hanging out on her roof, arms folded and tapping her yellow jacket impatiently.

It was also the last thing Marinette wanted to deal with, save maybe finding Hawk Moth waiting for her. & that thought just sent her gut into a tailspin, so Marinette forced open her ceiling hatch and stalked onto the roof.

Chloe zeroed in on her instantly, hissing, "You kept me waiting!"

Marinette barely resisted the urge to grab and shake the blonde, because she had only just finished re-tethering herself after the disaster of losing the Miracle Box.

Still, she had just enough restraint to only force her way into Chloe's space, grounding out, "How did you trick my parents into letting you up here, Chloe?"

The blonde blinked confusedly, "I climbed?" She motioned to a discarded pair of gloves sitting in the rooftop bin. "Why would I talk to your parents about that anyway? This is our business."

Marinette tried very hard to parse that question but she was still trying to process Chloe having scaled her walls!?

"Because they-, I-" No she as not dealing with that right now. "Chloe we don't have business!" Marinette settled on, arms flailing.

"Normally we wouldn't, you made sure of that-"

"Oh I made sure of it?"

"Yes you," Chloe huffed, somehow the one affronted, "When you got me to be terrible for my mother, then made it impossible for me to be good as Queen Bee by taking Pollen. Now you go and lose her & the others? I thought you were at least cunning to pull that scheme off Dupain-Cheng, or are you just lucky!?"

Marinette technically 'heard' what Chloe said, but she didn't have the wherewithal to react to it. Not right now as her whole world felt like it was suddenly unreal and empty and yet crushingly full all at once.

"Hah, haha, what are you t- talking about? Me, take a pollen? I don't know what that is? I don't even like wasps!"

Chloe dragged her hands down her face, screaming into her palms, "You cannot be this thick, no one can, for the- I know you're Ladybug, I've known your Ladybug for ages. Now tell me how you lost the Miraculous!"

"I could never be-"

Chloe stepped forward, counting off on her fingers.

"Rena is Alya, Nino is Carapace, Sabrina the Hound, Max is Pegasus, Kim is monkey guy and Zoe is Vespera, very petty of you, kudos really. Need I list more?"

"I"

"I've seen your Kwami, do I need to grab your damned earrings!?"

Marinette's hands flew to them, and she flung herself back, then started to giggle, maniacally.

"Hahaha, of- of course, this is a nightmare! All a nightmare! I didn't fail, Chloe doesn't know anything, I didn't get tricked by Felix and doom Paris! Hahaha- OW!"

Chloe pulled her hand back and out of pinching distance.

"You're awake Dupain-Cheng & finally answered my question to boot. Felix, ugh!! What, did he pull that stupid 'I'm Adrien' stunt and you just tripped over yourself?"

"Actually-" Tikki cut in gently, drifting out of her bag. "There was no tripping that I recall, & he'd had help this time, as Adrien wished to stay in Paris so it was more believable."

Marinette felt like her throat was closing up as she rasped, "Tikki, why!?"

The Kwami turned to her, big eyes doleful, "I am sorry Marinette, but it was obvious she knew and has evidently known for sometime. I felt you continuing to try and cover this up would only make things worse not better."

"Good thing too, I was about to tackle her and shake you out of that bag-ah!"

Marinette grabbed Chloe, spun her around and trapped her against the nearest wall. Eyes wild and frantic, the command phrase to transform dancing on her lips.

"Where's Hawk Moth? What's your game Chloe!?"

"If this was a game I'd be having fun, also," Chloe brought her hands up, and sharply but lightly 'chopped' her way out of Marinette's grip with the sudden pressure on her elbows and then shot out of grabbing range.

"Uhu, you had your chance to straddle me and passed it up."

Marinette's overtaxed brain wanted to 'scream' at that particular mental image. But Ladybug Brain was taking over and she snapped.

"How long have you known? It can't be that long or Hawk Moth would have found out already. After Penal-Team, no after-"

"Are you kidding? I've known way longer than that," Chloe boasted.

"Then why doesn't Hawk Moth know? Why didn't you just Akumatize and bring him the Miraculous!?" Marinette hissed.

"Because I don't want him to win, obviously!"

"You say you want him to win all the time!"

"I say stupid stuff when I'm angry, sue me!"

"Marinette!" Her parents called, and she could hear them racing up the ladder and nearly tripping over one another in a bid to make it to the rood.

Tikki vanished back into her purse and Marinette stood stock still frozen as her parents clambered out. Her mother hugging her close and her dad stepping between her and Chloe.

"How did you get up here?" Her father groused.

"Marinette, are you OK?" Sabine asked, fretfully.

A million and one excuses flew through Marinette's exhausted brain. Class project, Chat Noir dumped Chloe on her roof, she was Ladybug & Chloe had come to yell at her- No wait, that was the truth!

"What business is it of yours?" Chloe snapped back, evidently not intimidated by her father.

"Because this is our home, and our daughter and you are trespassing." Tom rumbled.

Chloe leaned to the side and looked at Marinette, still in her mothers arms, and then pointedly looked 'past' them.

"That doesn't answer my question, Marinette and I's business is none of yours."

Her mother frowned, "You've never had business with our daughter, just sharp words at best. You have no right to her or anything here."

"Ch- Chloe was just checking up on me, after Monarch's announcement." Marinette rambled, trying to piece the pieces together into something workable that wouldn't send Chloe into a fit.

Both her parents looked stunned and also like they wanted to ask if she was concussed.

Fortunately, Chloe managed to pick up where she'd left off.

"Exactly, we certainly aren't friends, but I felt obliged to check up on someone else I knew Ladybug wouldn't check on."

"What?" Her mothers hug tightened, and her voice actually quivered.

Her father looked between the two sides, seemingly lost for what to do with himself.

The pieces fell into place and Marinette came to the truth, in a sense.

"I was Multi-Mouse, when my science teacher god Akumatized, Ladybug needed someone who was good at multitasking."

"Marinette," Her father rushed forward and pulled her into a hug that knocked the air out of her lungs.

"I... I helped her, I did OK I think."

"You got the Miraculous back so you did your job," Chloe cut in, neither warm nor scathing.

Her mother evidently didn't agree, "It shouldn't have been her job, either of your jobs. You're children!"

"Mum, dad, it's fine, really it's fine!"

Her mother ran a hand through her hair, "I feel like there's something you aren't saying sweetheart."

She glanced at Chloe who was watching the exchange with an inscrutable expression. Some strange mix of confusion and almost starvation like hunger that was honestly painful to perceive.

Marinette licked her lips and pressed on.

"Chloe was right that Ladybug might not check up on me. At least not in a way I could see."

"She's usually such a good hero?" Her father said, sounding despondent.

"It's because I asked her too! I... When I was Multi-Mouse, I used the other Miraculous. A lot. I shouldn't have, but nothing bad happened!" she hastily added, at her parents near frantic looks of worry.

"Ladybug warned me, but I misunderstood and she said even though I was OK this time I shouldn't use magic again for a long time. I was upset, I wanted to help her, I-"

Why was she crying?

"I wanted to be a good hero, but I just screwed up and now," she was sobbing. Gods she was sobbing in her mothers arms.

"There there, my treasure, I am sure you were brilliant, let it out," her mother stroked her hair while her father hovered protectively, one large hand rubbing circles on her back.

Fortunately, Marinette had already cried her heart out once tonight and was too tired for a truly spectacular breakdown.

She managed to half slip her mothers grip, wiping at her eyes. "Thanks, both of you," she glanced at Chloe who was back to not quite staring at them. Her face was a mask of forced, haughty neutrality that looked like it was being kept in place with wires buried beneath her skin.

"Thanks for checking up on me Chloe, and for somehow not telling Hawkmoth our, my, anyone's identities when he had you Akumatized all those times." Because she still needed an answer to that, only the fact Tikki hadn't seemed panicked was keeping her grounded.

Chloe swallowed, hands clenching and unclenching before she spoke.

"Yes, well, I might not be Queen Bee or a hero anymore, but ridiculous circumstances demand ridiculous actions. So for tonight I'm a hero and it's the duty of a hero to look out for people. Even one's they hate."

OK, ow.

Chloe pressed on, "As to identities," She shrugged. "If that idiot Hawkmoth, Shadowmoth or whatever he's calling himself had that kind of control he wouldn't have to wait for people to break before getting them under his thumb. Even when I let him in the last few times, I never let him dig deep and I'd just kick him out if he tried to paw at any of my secrets."

Marinette felt like her heart was going to collapse in on itself because, "Even knowing everything you do, you just- I can't- I don't understand you at all Chloe!"

That actually seemed to draw the blonde up short, "That's a surprise, I thought you knew me better than anyone. You're certainly good at," Chloe looked at her parents ten back to Marinette, "Hitting my weak spots when we come to blows."

It felt like there was a lot to unpack there and for the first time in a long time, Marinette knew she'd actually have to spare no small amount of time and thought on Chloe's inner workings.

For now though.

"Even if you 'can' just kick him out."

"You know I can!" Chloe stomped her foot. "You saw me do it when I was Penal-Team!"

"That's my point! Isn't that like willingly helping him!? Other people have to be tricked!"

Chloe scoffed, "Tricked she says, don't over-sell it, it's being angry or sad, or whatever and taking a deal. Besides, does it look like I'm helping? I played soccer for an hour then quit."

"You had a bunch of people trapped in deadly orbs Chloe!"

"So what!? People try to kill me all the time! Ivan tried to smear me on the pavement! Nathanial tried to chop my legs off! Mommy murdered me and no one cared! No one!"

There was a choked edge in that but Chloe pressed on. "Because it's not a big deal, and anyone trying to make it a big deal is just looking for sympathy points, so there." 

She huffed and unfolded her arms, "Anyway you've clearly got people to tend to and I got what I came for. See you at school, Multi-Mouse."

With that she marched across the rooftop to her sky-box. "I'm not climbing the walls again if I don't have to so I'll just leave out the front and avoid the stray dog."

Before she reached the door, Marinette was surprised to see her mother reach out and gently grasp Chloe's shoulder.

"Chloe," She said firmly, as the blonde practically froze up, looking half ready to bolt, or shout. "Thank you for checking up on our daughter, that was a good thing and for whatever it's worth. People should have cared, I'm sorry those who should don't."

There was a moment where Marinette honestly expected Chloe to start crying, to fling herself at her mother and howl and sob. She was sure she saw something glisten in her eyes before Chloe wiped it away, and swallowed.

Her voice was rough as she said, "It's... Thanks, or whatever, doesn't matter. I don't need anyone's help."

"Everyone needs someone, so if your feelings change, don't be afraid to ask, people can surprise you. Especially if you don't break into their house." Her mother said the last part with a sort of forced, hopeful smile.

Chloe nodded, like taking an instruction, a rasped something escaping her lips before she achingly pulled away and climbed down the ladder.

A million and one feelings, questions and terrors still swirled in Marinette's mind but as her father and mother gently guided her down the ladder, intent on hot coco and comfort talk. She knew they'd have to wait. Could wait, until she was rested and ready.

Even still, a part of her would linger on the question of Chloe. What to think, to feel, to do, certainly. But also on the quieter, more uncomfortable thoughts.

Like who someone who felt they had no one would turn to if they were desperate and at the end of their rope.

'& it's not just Chloe either, who does Chat Noir have besides me?'

It was an uncomfortable thought, but one buoyed by a new revelation. No matter how omnipotent Hawk Moth seemed, no matter how all knowing he claimed to be; he was clearly far less than that.

It wasn't much to build on, but it was something, a foot hold from which she could dig in her heels and drag him down from his perch.

Golden hair flashed in her mind again and another thought echoed in her head.

'One good foot hold may be enough to bring down Hawkmoth. So what could it do for someone else?'

Because no matter what she said or had done, Chloe made a choice tonight, and had been making choices for longer than Marinette realized. Not having fallen down the slope but merely standing on the brink.

'But she took a step back tonight, to somewhere I can reach.'

& maybe all Marinette needed was one good foothold to pull Chloe all the way back, perhaps Farther than she'd ever been, or Marinette even realized was possible. 

It was a tender little hope, strange and unsure, but somehow, in Marinette's mind, it felt like solid gold. 

NOTES:

Wrote this is one sitting, then edited it, I hope it reads well XD

I have no plans to continue this, though if someone else wants to take it and run with it please feel free. I kind of envision Marinette re-inviting Chloe to the class group chat as a sort of olive branch and them slowly working through their respective issues.

Also Chloe turning up at Felix's with a tazer and the same martial arts skills that let her fight Mayura to a stand still and possibly, violently reclaiming Doosoo, cos you can pry Jock!Chloe from my cold dead hands!

[pearl484-blog]

Crescendo

My entry for Adrien AUGreste day 4 piano is up Ao3 link

Piano: performed softly

Adrien had had a lot of small defiances against his father, but he's prepared for a big one.

Adrien had wanted to be normal his while life. He wanted to go to school, hang out with friends, eat sub-par food, and make stupid cheesy jokes. But w hen you were the son of the Gabriel Agreste, heir to the Agreste Fortune and face of the Agreste brand, normal wasn't exactly possible. Adrien had tried. He'd snuck off to school, proving his wish, and finally getting Nathalie on board to let him go. Only, school wasn't a garuntee for Adrien like it was for some kids, it was just another carrot for his father to pull away from him at the slightest inclination, a punishment for any slight Adrien could have done, not that he'd needed it, but perhaps it was one of Gabriel’s little mercies, or maybe it was a necessary distraction to keep Adrien out of the way once he'd proven he would be sneaky to get what he wanted. Adrien didn't know, and he supposed he'd never know, since his father was dead. It didn't really matter why Gabriel let him go, only that he did, and because of that Adrien made friends, and fell in love with Paris

Fr om the moment Gabriel had met Nino, his father had declared the boy a bad influence. Ironic considering which of them was the hero, and which the supervillain.

At the time, Adrien had assumed it was because of Nino’s music, the way that Nino dressed, or the casual demeanor Nino spoke to everyone in clashing with what his stuffy, rigidly composed father had considered fashionable and in good taste. He had assumed it was normal, the way that his father would push everyone in Adrian’s lives away, save for those that his father had personally vetted and approved of. That it was simple over-protectiveness, and nothing more. It was normal for a father to isolate him, keep him busy with a professional life in front of a camera and rigorous, sufficiently sophisticated pursuits such as Mandarin, fencing, and piano.

As far back as he could remember—truly, and hopefully genuinely remember—he was limited to Chloe Bourgeois and his cousin Felix. Even then, he was only allowed to see them on infrequent and strictly controlled occasions. Dinners. Fundraisers. Holidays. All the way until the day she died, and his father fell into his grief.

And even then he had to wonder where to draw the line between where his memories started, and where the memories his mother had crafted for him began. In a perverse way, he knew from her coma onward meant what he experienced was most likely real. Or at least what he experienced in some way, even if just as a manipulation of his father who had held his amok.

He knew for sure what he felt for Nino was his alone. No matter how he was crafted and tweaked, he loved being with Nino. Nino made him feel safe, understood in a way no one, not even Marinette had managed. Although they’d had a rough patch when he had found out Nino’s identity, it was ultimately Nino that Adrian had asked to help find his grave with him.

His time as Chat No i r made him love his city as well. It’s passion, it’s art and creativity, and it’s defiance and resilience in the face of near-daily supervillain attacks. It was Adrian’s life’s greatest honor to be one of it’s protectors. Higher than anything being the Agreste heir, a child celebrity, a classically trained pianist, or excelling in fencing ever could be. In in way, he had Hawkmoth to thank. If not for the constant threats and attacks—his father’s single minded grasping for power—he never would have had the chance to be as close to his friends as he was. If it wasn’t for Hawkmoth, for Plagg and Ladybug, he might not have grown into someone who could stand on their own, nor have found a meaningful outlet for his constant need to help and put others before himself.

Adrian thumbed at the rings on his hand that sat in place of where the Cat Miraculous once was. In its place now was his own amok. The same rings his father once wore. The same rings Ladybug returned to him when she told him how his father died a hero.

She had to have known. In a way it was easy for him to believe his own father was a supervillain. Even after over a decade—his entire artificial life—of trying to deify and raise the specter of that man that even now haunts him to the same level of grand hero the rest of the world believed him to be, too much of his childhood finally made sense after finding out. What doesn’t make sense is why did Ladybug lie? Why did she try to hide this from him?

Growing up, Adrien’s defiances had been small. Quiet. Little victories meant to be non threatening to avoid provoking his father’s more extreme reactions. Now, he can go big.

He was the heir to the Agreste name. The child star, son of the “Hero” Gabriel Agreste. He was built and raised to command a camera, to shine in the spotlight.

He closed his eyes.

He was strong enough to face what was to come. His father made him for the stage. Hawkmoth taught him to fight. Ladybug had given him the strength to face his own destruction.

“Spot’s on.”

Eyes open. Chin up, eyes forward, back straight, Adrien made his way into the office of reporter Nadja Chamack to give her the scoop of her life. The true identity of the first Hawkmoth.

[generalluxun]

Fanfiction: Reciprocation Chapter 7

Author's note: welcome to act 2! In which, Felix turns his attention from the magical to the mundane, and finds it no less taxing.

As usual link to the AO3 where it's also posted in the bio, full text after the break.

“Sweetings, you are brooding.” His mother’s voice was a gentle invitation.

Felix looked up from his book. In a change, he’d chosen to study out in the living room tonight. He hadn’t spent enough time thinking about the ramifications, he was experimenting. His mother was ever observant, he should have known better.

“I am studying, Mother.” he lied.

She came fully into the living room, away from the stool perch in the kitchen she normally occupied. Held between her fingers were the glossy pages of a magazine. “You’ve been at that page for the last ten minutes, Goldflower. You don’t take that long with anything.”

Verbal sparring with his mother was a losing battle. ��It is simply an off day, am I not allowed to be tired, Mother?”

She sat on the couch by his chair, snugged up against the end closest to him and leaning on the armrest to be closer. “Eight at night, my Sol? If you are tired, then you are not sleeping well, and that too is cause for concern.”

Losing, perhaps already lost. Felix tried silence, it might work, if she was herself tired.

She was not. Amilie folded the magazine in her lap as she spoke in sing-song. “You’ve reclaimed the peacock. Your life is your own. You have your cousin’s ring. His life is in your hands; good hands I know. We are free from my parents. We are free from the past. You may pursue anything you wish, and I have more than enough money to back you wherever you go. Tell me then, my Tomorrow, what has put those lines in your brow?”

Defeated, twice over now, or he would not have lost this round. Felix closed the book on Enology and held it in his lap as his mother held her magazine. He opened his mouth to speak and no words came out. He closed it again. They shared a concerned look. He began a new -nothing.

His mother smiled gently. “Does it have to do with cologne?”

Felix looked away, then dropped his gaze to his lap. “It does, but also no, Mother. I remain my own, that has not changed.”

“But something has, and it troubles you. My brother in law did not trouble you in this way. I may not have birthed you, my Joy, but I am still your mother. I don’t know as many things as you, but the things I do know may surprise you still.”

She was right, she was right and Felix hated that she was right. In the fullness of time, with room to consider, he had hardened against his weakness. He could not strangle the voice though, now that it had awakened. He could bury it under logic and reason but the muffled whispers would not be silenced.

Felix thought maybe he could put her as off balance as he felt. “It’s the Bourgeois woman, Mother.”

"Audrey?" Amilie's voice rose in shock.

Felix shot his mother a look. "The other one."

"Oh." Amilie raised a hand to cover her mouth, "Oh!"

Felix could feel the smile she was hiding. "No, Mother."

She dropped her hand, the smile remained. "Of course, Light."

Felix looked back down, speaking his thoughts out loud to save himself future probings, "She seems to have dropped her obsession with my cousin, and has been… not unpleasant. She was integral to my plan to recover my autonomy. There is… a connection."

Amilié's voice was gentle. "Of course there is."

Felix shot her another sharp look. "Mother!"

Amilie spread her hands, they very statue of maternal innocence. "You will make connections in life, and now is the perfect time to begin. Think of how you would view it happening to someone else."

Felix did. Connections made one stronger, as long as they were properly managed, but that did not sit right. Felix threw another stone in the pond. "She is a human."

"Is that the worst of her faults?"

"You don't even like the Bourgeois."

"I don't have to."

Felix was on the back foot. He had one last defense. He fixed his mother with a level gaze. "This will not result in what you want."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. But for her earnest desire, I would not exist. That his mother pinned her own forsaken hope on a next generation was no secret. He saw his words hit home, wounding her in the most intimate of ways. She pressed her hands together, wearing a face she had worn many times for his father. "What I want is my son to be happy."

Felix looked down again, wounded too in his own haste. "I'm sorry to be a disappointment."

"Never!" She was off the couch and holding him before she finished the word. Felix endured it as a form of punishment. His mother drew back just enough to look down into his eyes. "Never, my Son. You could never disappoint me. Understand?"

Her tone brooked no argument. "Yes, Mother."

She let him go and relief poured in. Amilie stooped to pick up her magazine. "Even with our worlds so far apart, I can offer you this much at least: experiment. Your world will grow, and rapidly now. You will not be in two years who you are now. Nor the same two more after that. Some parts will be constant, I have no doubt, but do not look solely to your past to face your future."

She turned back to him, curling the magazine in her hands. Those soft eyes turned sharp and Felix knew at this moment she was being mother and not mommie.

"Be free, Felix. Do not submit to what anyone expects of you, not even yourself."

Free. The peacock pricked under his vest where Felix had pinned it. "Yes, Mother."

-----------

Felix: I hope you are well.

Chloé: pfftt! 🤣🤣🤣🙄

Felix:What on earth?

Chloé: That was so corny! Okay okay, let me answer you: I. Am. Fine. beepboop

Felix: Insufferable woman! I spent time on that!

Felix had enough time to glower at his phone, wonder where her response was, and feel cheated. He set his phone down and mentally switched gears. He had a full course assessment coming up in one of his Pre-Law classes. His phone buzzed not five minutes into the review, but Felix purposefully and pointedly ignored it for the other twenty five. Sadly he finished the review realizing he had retained almost nothing from those twenty five.

Chloé: ugh. you really did, didn’t you? Alright, sorry, I’m fine. It’s boring here lately. Almost no Hawkmoth attacks in the last week.

Felix was gobsmacked.

Felix:Excuse me, what was that you said?

Chloé:What? No Hawkmoth? Is that wrong? He can’t still be Shadowmoth now, right?

Felix:Not that triviality. I do believe I have on record the first physical proof of Chloé Bourgeois saying she is sorry.

Chloé: Oh just leave it alone! God, it’s hard enough to type to some British guy hundreds of kilometers away when he’s not being an ass about it. If you make it a thing I won’t do it again!

Felix chuckled to himself.

Felix:Then, my apologies too. I acknowledge your effort. Boring sounds like it may be a blessing in this case. You can focus on your schoolwork and extracurriculars without Hawkmoth’s interference. 

It was another few minutes before an answer came, just long enough for Felix to dwell and wonder. He did not like the experience.

Chloé: I had to look up like two of those words. Why can’t you talk normal? Why would I want to focus on schoolwork? It’s going to be enough of a problem as it is. Sabrina’s gone, so no one is doing my work. I might be able to get Lila to do it, but she’s not around that often. If this keeps up we’ll have to hire someone!

She wasn’t making sense….

Felix: Hire someone? You mean a tutor? What subjects are you feeling behind on?

This was something Felix’s talents were well suited towards. That he might be able to help caused a strange ticklish warmth to flicker within.

Chloé:Tutor? I already have a teacher who talks at me for hours a day, why would I want another one? I meant someone to do the work my teacher assigns! There’s so much of it.

Felix: Group education does place an emphasis on repetition and regurgitation. Still, you should be able to manage it on your own, you haven’t entered anything truly challenging yet.

More minutes passed. Felix reread his text and words popped out at him as troublesome. He could just imagine Chloé’s face screwed up in concentration while she typed out the words in an online dictionary. It made the time pass faster.

Chloé: Whatever, smartypants. I’m sure I could do it if I wanted to, but I don’t! I shouldn’t have to. I’m rich! Poor people work!

There were many angles of attack to such a statement. He tried her main weak point: Ego.

Felix: Look at it as a chance to prove how much better you are. I’ve found it quite satisfying, myself.

Chloé: I shouldn’t have to prove anything! I’m rich! That’s proof enough.

Felix hummed, then blinked. He’d never emitted such an unguarded admission of indecision before.

Felix: I know plenty of very useless rich people. My uncle is rich and he’s the least of creatures to crawl upon this earth as far as I am concerned. Money doesn’t make you better. All it does is open opportunities for you to improve and demonstrate your worth.

He frowned, hesitated, then hit send. Something about this conversation was turning the warmth into unease. The images of the person he held in his head and the person who he was texting were diverging.

Chloé: Worth? Worth! Ridiculous! I’m worth more than all of them put together! I’ll show you I have worth, you stupid British gremlin! You’ll see!

That was… unexpected. Felix turned it over in his head and a very real fear struck him. Was she mad enough for the butterfly? Would she let herself be turned? He had an entire message written out before pausing then deleting it. Would asking if she was in trouble push her further?

He felt seconds ticking by as he considered new angles of attack. Was she sitting and stewing waiting on him? This form of communication left much to be desired. He tapped out a quick reply.

Felix: Chloé, you are not required to prove anything to me in particular.

More waiting, anticipation turning to dread.

Chloé: Apparently I am! And if stupid schoolwork is all you care about then I'll workschool it better than even nerdy Max! Now excuse me I need to go fix my makeup and then waste a bunch of time on an idiot!

It was as if she was speaking some peculiar dialect Felix couldn’t piece together. He itched to reply, but the phrase ‘now excuse me’ seemed to indicate she was done with the conversation. He let it go, it was past time for his workout in any event.

------------

Today was plyometrics and cardio. The first portion went well. He was keenly focused on pushing his body to the limit. His drive had increased rather than ebbing in the wake of securing his freedom. One minor inconvenience: he had not yet found a comfortable way to wear the brooch on his person in exercise clothing. The little voice unhelpfully supplied, She probably knows jewelry, all about it. You could ask.

From that point on he was stuck, ruined for focus. At the end of every set his thoughts drifted to wondering when the next trip to Paris might be, seeking some excuse to make it sooner rather than later. By the time he was pulling himself from the complex’s indoor pool at the end of his cardio, his mind had betrayed him to the point there was some hallucinatory glee bubbling in his veins. I can just pop over tonight-

Reality asserted itself. No, he couldn’t. He didn’t have a reason to. Even if he did, she was in Paris. Even if she wasn’t, Why am I thinking about this?! Felix scrubbed his hair viciously with his towel then dropped it back on the pool chair, realizing as he did that his phone was vibrating under his robe.

Felix pulled it out and flipped it over just as it tripped over a missed call; 37 missed calls, all from her. He was already making his way into contacts when his phone lit up again. He stabbed pick up with his heart inexplicably in his throat.

“Hello?”

“H-H-hic-how do I do-do ma-aath?” She was sobbing.

Extreme annoyance bloomed, then thankfully, a self-correction. Felix answered in a neutral tone. “What?”

“Hic- Math! Stupid pointless, ugly, ridiculous math! s-s-sa-Sabrina always did it. It can’t be that hard, but it’s not working!”

Felix’s heart was still settling, and not from the workout. He picked up his towel and robe in one hand, exiting the pool area while still dripping. “Calm down. What math? What are you trying to do?”

“Math! What kinds are there? It’s numbers, and none of it makes sense! I’m smart, I should be able to do math! Don’t laugh at me!”

Felix hadn’t laughed, he hadn’t even thought to laugh, but her words were slurring together and flowing freely. The familiar layer of discomfort at such a display laid on him like a blanket, but this time nestled within was a nugget of a different sort. She was in pain, and he would do something.

“Chloé, calm down. I’m moving as quickly as I can.” Felix jabbed the elevator call, but seeing it on the eighth floor he pushed into the stairs and began the ascent on already burning legs.

The echoes of his feet must have carried over the phone. “Felix? Where are you? What’s going on?” At least it snapped her out of her frenzy.

“I’m moving somewhere more productive. Aquamathematics is not a field I expect to take off.” The explanation cost him a burning in his chest.

“Felix! Now is not the time for big words!” her voice was still thick, but at least it ended with a singular laugh.

"Hold on, Chloé, I'm coming."

It was ten more flights to the penthouse. There was a real possibility he would have made it faster if he had waited for the elevator. If nothing else he would not have staggered breathless into his room. But for the first time Felix was subject to the very thing he had mocked in others as foolishness. The need to be doing something. Efficiency didn't matter -unthinkable- effort did.

"Video…call…my laptop…" he panted as he dropped into a chair. A quick wipe took renewed sweat off his hands, face, and forearms before he booted it up.

The video call icon lit up almost immediately. Chloé's face started equal parts confused and pained, but rapidly morphed into surprise, followed by forced and obvious neutrality. "What is going on, Felix?"

Felix slowed his breathing, rested his elbows on his desk, and folded his hands. He set his chin atop them and said calmly. “Show me your problem.”

Chloé cycled between elation, hesitation, and renewed hope. She lifted a worksheet and turned it to face him, pointing at the problem, “It’s so stupid! They misspelled Cousin. What’s this seven doing down here? This isn’t even a number or a letter, and if the whole thing equals 3 what am I supposed to do? It’s already done!”

Felix squinted at the equation through the videofeed. “It’s a Trigonometry problem.”

Chloé flopped back in her seat. “You mean Ms. Bustier gave me the wrong work? It’s supposed to be math.”

“Chloé, it is math.”

She looked between him and the paper, something akin to fear creeping across her face. “What- no. Math doesn’t look like this. The other things didn’t look like this. See?” She jabbed another problem with a finger.

This time Felix took a moment to absorb. What was obvious was clearly not all there was. The sheet was effectively, if simply, laid out. Each problem fed into some part of the next. Felix’s eyes tracked upwards. “Chloé, number two, what are you doing there?”

She turned the sheet back to look at it. Then spoke in the sort of perfect enunciation people have when they are both very certain and worried they are suddenly very wrong. “It’s multiplying, Felix. That’s eleven times seven.”

She’d written out 11+11, added it, then 22+11, and repeat. Suspicion began to take root. Felix scanned some of her other -wrong- work. He grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled a quick basic equation. “Here, can you do this?”

She frowned at the paper. “That’s a fraction, Felix. Twenty Fourths.”

“Right, can you simplify it?”

“It’s one fraction. How much simpler can it be?”

“Chloé, you divide it out. Divide twenty by 4. You can do that, right?”

Chloé snatched her own sheet back to her chest. “Of course I can!” She turned and began scribbling on the back of the paper.

Felix could hear her penstrokes. He knew when it had begun to take far too long, even for showing work. She worked diligently though and when she turned the paper back to him she announced proudly, “Five!”

On the paper was the real story though. She had written it out:

4+4=8 II

8+4=12 I

12+4=16 |

16+4=20 |

IIIII 5

She wasn’t wrong, but… “Chloé- how- that’s how you learned to do division?”

She wilted under his disbelief. “Why was I ever going to need division anyway? Who wants to have less of something?”

Disbelief crumbled in the face of evidence. “Chloé, how long was Sabrina doing your homework?”

She wilted further, turning the page back to herself. “It’s right… it’s right, isn’t it? I did it right!” her voice rose to a panic. “I’m not stupid!”

Felix dropped his head into one hand. “The term is uneducated, and apparently so. Although a deficiency this egregious being overlooked is clearly not entirely your own fault. It is a failure on a shocking number of levels.”

“I did it!” her voice rose in sudden shriek. Felix heard the sound of paper tearing. “I did your stupid homework, and all you do is make fun of me with big words. If you want to call me stupid you should just say it! I can’t believe- I should have known better with your stupid Adrien game all the time!”

Felix looked up just in time to see the camera’s view swirl and bounce crazily. “No wait, Chloé don’t!”

The scream that came from the speakers made him fear for the worst, but one last swirl of motion before the camera showed a brief arc of the ceiling then the image almost blacked out. Almost-but not quite. Felix could make out the edge of a keyboard, a red patterned comforter. Wedged up under her pillows…

Felix could make out faint sounds. Distant and with a lousy built-in microphone. He still had a hunch what they were. He didn’t like them, for more than one reason now.  Felix picked up his phone. His call was answered surprisingly fast, but only blubbering greeted him on the other end. He waited for it to abate.

When it failed to, he said simply, “You are not stupid.”

A powerful unladylike sniffle, some coughing, and more horrid sounds were his answer.

“You’re foolish, naive, gullible, short-tempered, ignorant, unreasonably cruel at times, and apparently uneducated, but you are not stupid.”

That got a bitter laugh, “Fuck you, Felix. You suck at this.”

He returned the laugh. “I do. You are also surprising, observant, and unexpectedly loyal.” He hesitated. The voice had words, but he hadn’t parsed them and they were… alarming.  He spoke them anyway. “There is likely more to that list. I haven’t had time to study those aspects much. I- would like to.”

“Really? I mean-” A large sniffle and her affected tone returned, “Of course you would, after all I-” A sigh and it dropped, “No, I can’t do it right now. I- Really?”

“Apparently.”

The picture on his laptop shifted and spun again, opening up into a messy-faced Chloé, “You really suck at this.”

Felix hung up his phone and addressed the screen. “Let us be clear, I am not even sure what this is. My personal tastes…”

“Yeah, I know. I figured that part out, didn’t I?” She was still wiping at her makeup with her hands, not improving matters. “A girl can dream though, can’t she?”

There was too much built up. Felix had been running through the conversation without his usual buffer for emotions. He needed to unpack and analyze. He tried shifting to a different topic. “I could help you with your studies. I will not do your work, but I can organize some kind of a lesson plan you have clearly lacked.”

Chloé flopped on her bed on screen. A muffled, “Oh, so dreamy,” came back to him.

“Do you want my help or not?”

She raised up on her elbows and stared at him through the screen for a long moment, then looked back down at her comforter. “I’ll get sick of it and stop if I have to do it on my own.”

“Then I will see to it. I’ll have to come back to ask you more about what you have and haven’t actually learned. It will… probably not be pleasant for you.”

Her voice was desperately small when she asked, “Let me take you to dinner?”

A thousand warning bells went off. He tried to placate them. “Nothing… cozy.”

“It’s a deal.”

Felix felt like he had just made it through the narrows under the mansion for the first time, all over again. He sat back, glad her eyes were not on the screen. “Until then. I suppose we could start with multiplication and division.”

Her head came up fast. “Start with?”

“Memorization. Let’s see what you can do without paper and work from there. This is an assessment, not a test. We are here to stretch your mind. You take Ballet. Stretch your body at the same time if you like, combining mental and physical stimulation can aid in retention.”

She flopped back down again, but pulled herself up. “I’m going to hate this.”

“Probably.”

“If I’m going to stretch, can I use my phone?”

“Of course.”

The next two hours passed… uniquely. Running someone his age through basic math exercises was never something Felix expected to do. Chloé was dismal, there was no denying that. She was easily distracted, woefully unpracticed, and he could sense the simmering urge to shout her way through it all lurking just beneath the surface.

Somehow, that last observation took on a different meaning as time wore on.

She got better, slightly. Feiix caught her cheating when he shifted to things she couldn’t use her fingers to count on, but he didn’t bother to expose the subterfuge. He moved around his room, waved off his mother’s curious inquiry from his door, and ended up laying on his bed until a glance at the time reminded him just how long this had gone on.

“I need to be going.”

Chloé let out a small grunt of effort then a sigh of relaxation. “Good, I was running out of stretches.”

There was a curious hindbrain response to that statement. Something else for him to sort through. “You kept going longer than I expected.”

“Maybe I just never had a good teacher before.”

“I would not doubt that, but thank you.”

“So… mind turning the camera on for a minute before you go?”

Confusion was answered with ‘Seems harmless’ by the voice. Felix turned on the video call feature and held the phone at arm’s length while he lay on his back.

Chloé’s face appeared. She leaned in close to the camera, one large blue eye filling his screen. “I thought so.”

“Thought so?”

“Just a little reward to myself for being good.”

Felix raised a brow. “What are you talking about, woman?”

She held her phone further back and raised a hand to circle a finger at him. “Nothing, nothing, just… wear something different to dinner, okay? Good night Felix!”

With that the call ended, and Felix looked down at himself. Oh of all the-

He was still wearing only his swimming trunks from the pool.

[polyvirnl]

Coffee Hugs and Ladybugs AU Notes

⚠⚠SPOILERS BEWARE ⚠⚠

Here are mah notes their kind of all over the place srry bt that

Dick, who is under the impression that damian may cool down if he is 'provoked' less and can focus on bettering himself with the help of bruce and himself, (jason is doing his barely at home thing and isint a part of the desicion) sends Tim away.

Some time after Damian is integrated into the household, a video message to the league isseen by Dick, who, after seeing Damian attack Tim again, but act somewhat fine towards himself and cordial towards Bruce and Alfred (Jason is said to be 'on a mission', but he's really just avoiding the mansion, and has barely interacted with the newest Robin), decides to bring up the video to Bruce, and privately claims that Damian might need some time with people who he tolerates or respects, before he can start to act more civilized towards those who dont, and suggests that they send Tim to check out the calls from Paris.

 He then later brings it up after patrol, citing that since Tim has had more speculation about him in the media due to less frequent sightings in public, it could be a good idea for him to go, and Robin hasn't had enough time on the field under Batman's watch to be trusted on an overseas solo mission, and since Jason was still missing and Dick has to be able to take over Batman if Bruce has a meeting elsewhere or is publicly injured, then really, who else could go?

So Tim goes to Paris, low-key upset but also used to it (ahdjdhd the poor guy) so it doesnt draw an akuma, and Bruce emails him a last minute change- not only will he be doing Wayne Enterprise work as his cover up, he is also being forced to enter in a parisian highschool senior year, because it was suggested that he needed to interact more with peers his age, and that it may be possible that a specific school is targeted due to the increased online paris centered reports of the so-called akumas coming from it. 

Enter the Dupain-Chèngs.

Boyo gets coffe from there frequently, not realizing that the girl from some of his classes and also the student council vice president who showed him around the school alongside the student council secretary (uhhh maybe like,,, Felix?) Was the daughter of the bakers and not just a part timer. Bc sleep deprivation.

Befriends Fe, Mari, Max, and becomes acquaintances with Luka.

Jason goes to the mansion a couple times after tim is flown out, and finally when he stays for dinner hes like, i know tim is a work-a-holic and all, but isnt this a little weird? Actually i havent seen him any of the times ive come after my last mission. 

Cue awkward silence and damian looking smug and pretentious, (bc i guess this is anti-damien evn tho i love him op-)

So he finds out that Tim was sent away and when Dick tells him where and why he flips t f out and screams at richard and bruce and then asks alfredo to book him the next flight to Paris.

[algernoninwonderland]

Adrien grows up to be a recluse NEET obsessed with his family's legacy, Chloé unsuccessfully fights tooth and nail to take over her mother's empire but never becomes CEO, Kagami and Felix continue to be overachievers but can't find joy in all these trophies and diplomas. None of them become well-adjusted.

With the current state of canon, I really can't imagine any of them as happy adults. And don't get me started about Alix who can't belong anywhere she goes.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Hey, Little Songbird

Chapter 15 - AO3

If asked, Felix would deny it.

No one did, of course. His classmates rarely spoke to him, and the day after the spray pain incident, Marinette was still giving him the silent treatment. It did put a damper on his plans, and it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to silence.

So really, he didn’t need her at all.

Cesaire was the last one in before the morning bell rang, much to everyone’s surprise. The class gossips—not that he wanted to listen—had claimed that the girl was suspended for sure. She hesitated before sitting down, staring up at the back of the class over her shoulder with an expression of longing. But the final bell rang and Cesaire sat, sitting next to her boyfriend.

In full view of those above them, Rossi placed a hand on Cesaire’s shoulder, a calculated consolation, only for Cesaire to move before they could touch. Whatever Rossi said clearly set Cesaire off, the recent akuma snapping at the girl, though they were quiet enough that Felix couldn’t hear them.

At least, they were quiet until Rossi immitted a siren-like wail.

“Alya!” Rossi sobbed, drawing out Alya’s name into an irritatingly high pitch. Her face was dry. “How could you say that!?”

The Class’s attention was immediately drawn to the confrontation as they jumped to Rossi’s defence. Although, not everyone. The redheaded boy kept his head down, and the short blonde looked away.

“Alya, what did you do!?”

“Are you bullying Lila?”

“You should apologize!”

Cesaire’s eyes flickered around the room as the class berated her. They landed on the ack and Cesaire straightened. She spoke loud enough for the class to hear her. “I was willing to keep this between us, but since you want this to be public, Lila, that’s fine. The fact that you got out of your detentions by saying that you were volunteering after school all week is extremely manipulative and exactly like Chloe.”

There were gasps all around, some horrified that Rossi would do such a thing, others shocked that Cesaire would ever say anything bad about their precious Lila.

Rossi’s voice hitched. “H-How—” her voice warbled—“How could you say that, Alya? I had already made those plans before you stole Felix’s project!”

“Don’t act like I worked alone,” Alya said. “I may have been the one to steal the project—which I plan to apologize for doing—but you were the one to say it was made from your notes. Not only did you know I was going to steal it—”

“I didn’t know!” Rossi tried to protest.

“—But you encouraged me!”

I didn’t!” Rossi whined, her voice hitting a pitch only known to dogs. “B-Besides, after yesterday, everyone knows who’s really to blame. Since you painted Marinette’s locker.” Marinette froze beside him.

“Then why am I not suspended?” Alya shot back. “It wouldn’t be the first time this school gave me a hasty suspension, so why am I free?” Her eyes narrowed. “I had evidence that I wasn’t the culprit, so they couldn’t touch me. Where’s your evidence?”

Marinette looked startled, like the idea of asking for evidence was foreign to her. Or perhaps, it was the fact that Cesaire was the one asking for evidence. Together, they watched the back and forth until Mme. Bustier finally entered the room and broke the argument up. Pity, it was just starting to be amusing.

“Alright, that’s enough!” Bustier said. “Alya, since I clearly can’t trust you to be mature, I’m going to move you to the back of the class today. Hopefully you can behave tomorrow and earn your seat back.”

Felix cocked an eyebrow. Cesaire looked utterly betrayed by the teacher, but obeyed, moving to the bench next to his and Marinette’s with little fuss. Shockingly little, all things considered.

It became clear when Cesaire whispered in the middle of the first lecture of the day, “I’m sorry.” Felix could barely hear her from the other side of Marinette.

“What?” Marinette turned to her.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad friend, girl.” Cesaire looked truly ashamed. “I… I should have seen that Lila was lying. I should have at least investigated when you told me something was up, but I just… didn’t. I was so invested in her lies and having an interview with ‘Ladybug’s best friend’ on my blog that I… I lost my integrity. And even worse, I dismissed you and how you felt because I thought I knew better. I’m sorry, Marinette.”

Marinette swallowed, her fists clenched. “Thank you, Alya. This really means a lot to me.” Cesaire perked up. “But… I don’t think I can forgive you right away. I believe you when you say you didn’t destroy my locker—” She glanced at Felix—“But that doesn’t mean you haven’t done things similarly horrible.”

Cesaire nodded, disappointed but understanding. “I know. And I’ll work hard to regain your trust in me. Which is why I’m going to expose Lila as the liar she is.”

Felix was surprised; he didn’t necessarily expect Cesaire to take Adrien’s ‘high road’ approach, but no hesitancy… And Marinette… nodded. “Yeah. Do you want to work on a plan after school today?”

“Y-Yeah. I’d really like that, Mari.”

Felix stifled a smile as the two friends—because they were on the track to recovering their friendship now, just try to stop them, Rossi—made up. He felt pretty good about himself until the lunch bell rang and Marinette dragged him out the door and out of school, a hard expression on her face.

They were at the side of the school, where there were no students. Felix tried not to let his nervousness show. “How rough, Dupain-Cheng. Whatever are you trying to do to me, away from prying eyes—"

“Shut up.” Felix shut up. “Felix, you… Did you keep Alya from getting in trouble?”

“What do you mean?”

“It was pretty much a given that Alya was going to get suspended because of your frame job. Yet she’s here, sending you glances all throughout class.”

“Perhaps she’s attracted to me? I’ve heard I have the face of a model.” He was not confessing this, no way. He had a reputation to keep.

“And what would Alya say? If I asked her next time we were in class.”

“She…” Damn her, she had him cornered. If she asked during class, at least some of the others would overhear, and then people would have expectations. “She would mention that there was an anonymous phone call from a potential donor for the school that reminded the principal that the locker room doesn’t have working cameras and that students have framed each other for crimes in the past. Wouldn’t it be so disappointing that the school board found out that the money that went to security cameras wasn’t used at this school?”

“The principal is embezzling funds?”

“I suspect he’s embezzling funds. But given that he immediately agreed with me and rescinded Cesaire’s suspension, my suspicion is right on the money.”

“That almost makes too much sense… No,” she shook her head. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about. Felix, have you ever had friends before?”

“Excuse me!?” What was she accusing him of!?

“Because you act like I’m the first person you’ve ever made friends with.”

“H-How dare you!? Accusing me of being some sort of… some sort of friendless wretch!” He huffed. “I might not be my cousin, but I’ve certainly had a friend before!”

“Adrien doesn’t count, Felix. He’s family, not a friend.”

“Well, I—” The nerve of this girl! “What does it matter anyway?”

“Well, I just figured… you wouldn’t have done that if you had more experience with friendships. Or experience with people your own age. Because what you did was not okay. However, you understand that now, right?”

“…I do.”

“And you tried to make up for it, right?”

“…I did.”

“Then it wouldn’t be too much to ask if you followed my plan for rehabilitation?”

Rehabilitation? What did she think he was, a dog? “And why,” he sneered, “Would I do that?”

She looked disappointed and his heart twinged. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But Felix… I can’t be friends with someone who does cruel things for their own benefit. The world doesn’t need more than one Chloe.”

Had he… been acting like Bourgeois? Surely not, she’d never do her own dirty work. But… vandalizing a locker did seem like something she’d order, even if it wasn’t for the benevolent reasons Felix had. And… he really didn’t want to lose Marinette.

“Very well,” he said snidely in an effort to distract from his lightly flushed skin. “I’ll play along. Let’s be friends.”

Taglist: @graduatedmelon @novicevoice @dur55 @kris-pines04 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @moonlightstar64 @bee-a-garbage-shipper @sol-o-shade @kittyotakunoir666 @tinyterror333 @allieoftheenemy @marichat00 @xgxmxtx @two-faced-biatch @feliciakainzofspades @evil-cricket @emilytopaz @spicybelladonna @chocolateherringtacofan @user00000003 @wannajointhecrabcult @happymonster-pants @duquesapincarrasca @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen  @sxltinette @kittydemon9000 @thetrashypanda423

[starshine583]

When One Thing Leads to Another

(Hey guys! This isn’t a fic, just an idea that I came up with and wanted to write about. Hope you all enjoy anyway!)

Flashing lights and blaring music. The perfect combination to either give someone a good time or a horrendous headache. Unfortunately, Felix was never known for partying; so he found himself suffering the latter. The pounding in his mind matched the beat of the speakers, and occasionally, a round of cheers and clinking glasses would spike the pain. Why did he agree to come here? He could be at home right now, reading a nice book in the quiet of his apartment. But no. He had to be at some ridiculous bar with his ridiculous cousin.

“Come to the club with us,” he’d said. 

“It’ll be fun,” he’d said.

Felix rolled his eyes and tipped his glass up to his lips, letting the bitter taste of his Bourbon Sour slide over his tongue and down his throat. Stupid Adrien. Why did he insist on dragging Felix to places he didn’t want to go? Why did his mother have to coax him to not reject the offer? Couldn’t they let him be a troglodyte in peace?

He set his cup back on the napkin that was acting as a makeshift coaster and thumbed the side of the glass, feeling the cold sweat from the ice drip down. Felix was half tempted to press the drink to his forehead in hopes that it would ease some of the ache from his on-coming migraine. Perhaps he should ask the bartender for headache medicine. Or better yet, just go home. He’s been there for at least an hour or so. That should satisfy whatever itch Adrien needed to scratch by bringing him along, right?

Felix swiveled around in his bar stool, scanning over the dancing crowds. Normally, he could spot his cousin from a mile away due to his raging fans, but tonight, the lights were dim, save for the blinding strobe lights, and everyone there was probably drunk out of their minds already or close to it. No one would be recognizing him any time soon. That was one of the reasons they attended this particular club in the first place.

This plan to blend in, however, worked only too well, because now Felix couldn’t see Adrien either. Too many people were dancing and shuffling around in the unsteady darkness for him to catch a proper glimpse of the facial features or hair colors. If he wanted to find Adrien, he would have to venture into the belly of the beast himself.

Felix swiveled back around in his stool and crossed his arms across the counter with a huff. He’d rather stew in this corner all night than try to navigate amongst those drunken morons. Adrien had to come up for a drink at some point. So he would simply talk to him then. 

Another bump on the counter rattled the stray glasses strewn across it, and Felix glances to the left. He expected to see a drunkard wobbling around or another shameless couple making out, but instead, he was met with the sight of a young woman. She appeared to be in her early twenties, certainly no older than himself, and quite displeased, if the quiet scowls and hissed curses were any indication.  

In a huff, she yanked a handful of napkins out of the nearest dispenser and began furiously dabbing a dark spot on the front of her cocktail, party swing dress. Felix assumed it must have been a spill, which was a pity. The dress had a magnificent pattern. Specks of red that vaguely reminded him of a swarm of Ladybugs curled around the pink fabric from the bottom of the dress to the top, and the white sash that was pinned around her waist with a jeweled butterfly brought out the halo of white that surrounded each of the red specks. The combination gave the enchanting impression that the insects were glowing, which was impressive. Whoever created that intricate piece of clothing certainly had a gift.

After scrubbing the stain for a good five minutes, the woman let out a heavy sigh and set the crumpled napkins back on the counter. She then slid into one of the bar stools, leaving an open seat between them, and let her face drop into her hands with a groan. Her steam from a few minutes ago must have worn off, because the only thing he could see in her slumped posture now was exhaustion.

Felix averted his gaze to take another sip of his drink. At least he wasn’t the only one who saw this club as a place of torment.

“Bartender,” He heard the woman say, her voice almost drowned out completely by the music, “Get me a tequila shot, please. Just one for now.”

The bartender nodded at the request and began shuffling around behind the counter to mix the drink. Felix watched it unfold out of the corner of his eyes- one can only stare for so long before getting caught -and wondered how many shots she planned on taking. Tequila was a decently strong beverage when taken without caution. One too many, and you’ll find yourself passed out on the floor or hurling up something unseemly in the washroom. He hoped for her sake and everyone else’s that she didn’t get drunk and turn into one of those loud-mouthed fools. Because if she started rambling obnoxiously right in his ear, Felix might be inclined to finally snap and go on a murder spree, starting with Adrien. 

The woman wasted no time downing the shot in one gulp, and the effects set it in immediately. A shudder ran over her body from the burning sensation, causing her to shake her head to counter it. Her raven hair twirled with the movement and curled around her shoulders and face, but she paid it little mind, merely brushing the locks back over her shoulder and out of the way.

“Come on, you can do this.” The woman muttered to herself as she fixed her short, slit, bell sleeves. “This is fine. We’re doing this for Adrien.”

Felix rose a brow. Was she talking to herself? How many drinks has she had exactly? 

“Oh, Felix~!” 

Thoughts of the woman were ripped away when he heard the coo of his name cutting through the crowd. Felix suppressed a groan, though he allowed a scowl to slip onto his lips. That would be Lila Rossi, his second headache. She was the one person he hated more than Bourgeois and his uncle combined. Why did Adrien even invite her? Was it pity? Blackmail? Another act of that false kindness of his? 

Whatever the reason, Felix wasn’t going to turn around and acknowledge that lunatic. The people bustling, cheering, and lazily singing around him were bad enough. He did not need some cheap, over-glorified ‘model’ hanging off of him on top of that. 

And yet, despite his efforts, Lila still managed to find him. She wrapped her arms around his neck with a sickly sweet laugh as though they were the best of friends or more, and it made him want to gag. Didn’t she have anything better to do than beg for his attention like some pathetic dog?

“There you are!” Lila sang, nuzzling her face against his. “Where have you been? I need a dancing partner.”

For once, Felix was glad that they were in a club, because there were no stuck-up business partners scrutinizing his every move. No one to chastise him when he shoved Lila off of his shoulders so hard that she almost bumped into another customer.  

“Find your own dance partner.” He hissed. 

Oh, if Lila’s expression didn’t give him the best form of twisted satisfaction. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Of course she did. Until now, they’d only interacted at formal events, where Felix was forced to resign himself to social etiquettes. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might be more abrasive in a casual setting. Or, in this case, much more abrasive.

A light snort floated to his ears, and his gaze flicked to the left again. The raven-haired woman had a hand to her mouth, a slight smile peaking out as she stared at Lila. Was she laughing at them?

Lila cleared her throat, finally starting to recover. It took her long enough. He would think that she’d be used to rejection by now considering how often she must throw herself at other men.

“W-Well, I am trying to find one.” She said. “I just figured you might have more fun if you loosened up on the dance floor.”

Felix rolled his eyes. Hiding her gold-digging ways with feigned thoughtfulness. What a classic move. “You figured wrong. Go bother someone else.”

Irritation flickered across her features, but Felix hardly cared. He swiveled around in his bar stool again and ordered another Bourbon Sour, because at this point, he was going to need one. His disinterest in Lila couldn’t have been any clearer, but they both knew that she wasn’t going to let him go that easily. She proved that by sliding into the seat next to him with another plastered smile.

“I also came up to order another martini, but wow,” The brunette drawled, “you must really not like it here.”

Felix scoffed, downing the rest of his bourbon. She really couldn’t take no for an answer, could she? He couldn’t decide if that little trait derived from denial or stupidity. Did she think he was going to flip a switch and suddenly like her nasally voice or her sausage hair that she obviously spent way too much time styling? 

“You know..” A suggestive smile curled onto Lila’s lips as she began walking her fingers down the counter towards him. “If you’re not having a good time, I could call a cab. We can go somewhere a little more.. quiet.”

Felix snatched her hand before it could reach him, ignoring the pained gasp that she let out. He would rather sign his entire company over to Gabriel himself than go anywhere with this hag. 

He opened his mouth to retort- “Are you always this desperate or are you just that intoxicated already?” -when another voice interrupted them.

“Not to be rude, Lila, but I’m pretty sure going out with you would be more nauseating to him than drinking three shots in a row right after drinking two bottles of champagne.” 

The mysterious, raven-haired woman. Felix shot her a glance for the fifth time that evening, a mix of surprised and intrigued as to how she would know enough about Rossi to claim such a thing. (Such an accurate thing)  

The woman faced them with a small, amused smile, her chin resting on the back of her hand. All traces of her anxiety and nervousness were gone, replaced instead with confidence and smugness. It was an interesting change, but if it pulled Lila’s attention from him, he wouldn’t complain.

Lila’s body went rigid, her face flushing a deep scarlet from being called out, and she whirled around to face the woman, hands clenched at her sides. The woman stared back, silently daring the Italian to refute the statement that they both knew to be true. It was a bold gesture that was no doubt fueled by multiple, distasteful encounters. The two must know each other personally. (Her calling Lila by name was also a give-away to that fact) 

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Lila bit off. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

The woman merely hummed, unimpressed. “Yes, I don’t think you ask for anyone’s opinion. That’s why you almost got hit with that restraining order the last time you tried flirting with one of the other models at work.”

So they work together.. that would explain the underlying tension. Felix has had plenty of unbearable coworkers. Did that mean the woman worked for the Gabriel brand, though? Why had he never heard of her before?

Lila bristled at the remark. “I- You- Ugh! Whatever!”

Furious, the brunette stormed off into the dancing crowd once again. Felix imagined she was either going to tattle to Adrien or find some other poor soul to ‘seduce’. Even so, he couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his lips. Lila unraveling like that wasn’t something he got to see often. It was a nice treat considering how his evening had been progressing. 

That said..

“Thank you, but I don’t recall asking for your help.” He told the woman. If she was mingled in with Gabriel’s business, she might know who he is, and Felix didn’t want her thinking that he owed her something simply because she’d decided to meddle in someone else’s affairs. 

Her eyes turned to him for the first time that night, sparkling light blue under the neon lights.

“No,” She mused, a softer, warmer smile playing at her lips, “I know you didn’t, and I’m sure you didn’t need it. That was kind of my own little revenge. We work together, ya know? She’s always such a pain.”

Felix hummed in agreement. That girl was definitely a thorn in anyone’s side. How she still managed to act as though she were the next big hit, he’ll never know. “Do you work for the Gabriel brand, then?”

She nodded, idly reaching up to fix the white, butterfly barrette that pinned up the left side of her bangs and hair. “Yeah, but I’m just one of the fashion designers. Not a model or anything.”

Felix let out a light scoff. She said that as though the fashion designers weren’t critical workers. Anyone can wear clothes, but fashion designers are the people who use their skills and creativity to bring life to the clothes that the models are wearing. They are severely under-appreciated, in his opinion.

And speaking of bringing life to clothes.. “Are you the one who designed that dress?”

A tinge of pink rose to her cheeks, and she smoothed out the skirt of her dress to avoid looking at him as she answered, “Yes, actually. It’s from my ‘Heroes of Paris’ collection. This was one of the dresses that I hand sewed, but Lila decided it would look better with a martini stain. I just hope I can wash it out..”

Felix glared at the crowd, remembering Lila’s comment about ordering another martini. No wonder the woman was so disgruntled about the stain. Buying a dress and ruining it was one thing, but working hard to make a dress and having someone else ruin it on purpose was another thing entirely.

“You could always sue.” He suggested as he took a swig of his freshly made Bourbon Sour. “That stain would easily count as intentional property damage to the company.”

The woman snorted and waved a dismissive hand at him. “Thanks for the idea, but it’s technically a prototype, anyway. I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“It sounds like she’s the one who caused trouble.” Felix pointed out. “If you insist on letting others walk all over you, then you’re not going to go far in the fashion world.”

She pressed her lips together, seeming displeased by the statement, but tilted her head in a nod. “I suppose that’s true..”

Felix nodded as well. Of course it was true. All types of business could be brutal, but the fashion world truly was something else. Every step forward needed to be fought for viciously taken. There was no room for trivial things like mercy or kindness.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” The woman spoke again, regaining his attention, “you’re Adrien’s cousin, right? Felix Culpa?”

Felix rose a brow. Great. So she did know him. Was this where the flirting started? He should have known better than to start small talk with someone associated with Rossi. ‘Sworn Enemies’ or not.

 “That depends on which Adrien you are referring to.” He replied, subtly avoiding a straight answer.

“Adrien Agreste, of course.” She clarified. “He said he was bringing you along, but by the time I got here, I was told that you wandered off.”

Felix tisked. Of course his cousin would say that, but why would he tell her?

“Do you know him personally?”

“Well..” She twirled the tips of her hair, choosing her words carefully. “Yeah. I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging or anything, but we’ve been friends since highschool. I’ve actually been working as his personal stylist for a little under a year now.”

His personal stylist? Felix remembered reading about that somewhere.. Adrien mentioned her name at one point too while blabbing about how ‘excited’ he was for Felix’s visit. What was it again? It started with an M. Madeline? No. Margaret? Certainly not.. But it definitely had an ‘r’ somewhere. Marianne- Marie- Marin- Ah! Marinette. That’s what it was. Marinette Dupain-something.

"You’re Mlle Marinette then.” He said, a satisfied smile slipping onto his lips. Although the entirety of her last name escapes him- it definitely had a Chinese origin -he was at least able to recall her first name. That would save him the awkwardness of her knowing his name but him not knowing hers. 

The woman’s eyes widened, proving that she was, in fact, Marinette. “You know me?”

Felix nodded. “Adrien wouldn’t stop pestering me about meeting you during my visit. He insisted that you were incredible, and that we would get along fetchingly.”

Another blush, this time deeply coating her cheeks and ears. “O-Oh.. I don’t know about incredible..”

He’d expected a coy smile and a swat of the hand to join the statement, giving way to the feigned modest, or at least for her to search out more praise- “Do you think I’m incredible?” -but none of that happened. Marinette simply brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced away, holding a faint, hidden smile. She was genuinely surprised by his words, and genuinely humble about them. It was.. refreshing. He didn’t socialize with people like this often.

“Does that mean you are Adrien’s cousin?” Marinette asked after a moment.

“I am,” He confirmed, seeing no reason to hide it any longer, “but I’m starting to regret it deeply. The places he’s been dragging me to have been, in a word-”

A man ran past them screaming at the top of his lungs, only to crash into something a few seconds later with a weak ‘ow’.

“-tumultuous.”

A giggle tumbled from Marinette’s lips. “I know what you mean. I’m more of a stay-at-home-and-lazily-sketch-on-the-couch kind of gal, but I couldn’t say no to Adrien. He’s been through a lot with his Father, so finally getting enough freedom to go out like this is probably a dream come true for him.”

Felix resisted the urge to scoff. Is that what Adrien’s calling this? Freedom? Because to him, it looked like his cousin was running off to places where he would not be held accountable for his actions. Granted, his misbehaviors towards anyone but his father never tended to have real consequences anyway, but there were other ways to gain freedom than choosing to associate with strangers who were steadily drinking away their inhibitions and discipline. 

“To be honest,” Marinette continued, sparing a fond glance to the crowd, “I think he gets so invested in the dancing and the hype that he sort of forgets about us. It’s like his own, unique quiet place. I’m not sure that he’d even notice if we left until he was leaving the club himself.”

Felix perked up. Oh? “Do you really think that?”

Marinette’s gaze flicked back to him, surprised and a bit embarrassed at the question. “Oh- Well -I mean, no. It was just a joke, but.. He was dancing with Kagami last time I saw him so..”

“Wonderful.” Felix breathed, getting to his feet. If Adrien wasn’t going to remember him being there, he wouldn’t remember him leaving. That meant he didn’t have to wait for Adrien to approach the bar before making his exit.

He never thought Adrien and Tsurugi would make the best match, but if them getting together is what allowed him to leave, then he would accept her into the family whole heartedly.

“Woah- wait,” Marinette stood as well, a frowned tugging at the corner of her lips. “Are you leaving?”

Felix pulled a few bills out of his pocket and placed them on the counter for payment. “I’m here as a common courtesy. If Adrien won’t be bothered to remember my presence until he can hardly walk straight, then I see no reason to stay.”

“But you can’t go!” She insisted, moving in front of him to block his path. “Adrien was so excited about you coming.”

Felix gave her a flat look. “He was excited about partying. If he actually wants to spend quality time with me, he knows my hotel residence.”

He moved to get around her, but she moved with him, this time putting a hand on his forearm to keep him still.

“You at least need to tell him you’re leaving.”

Felix stared down at her, a mix of irritated and astonished by her audacity. This woman knew he was, knew the people he was connected to, and that, should he so choose, he could probably end her career right then and there. Yet there she stood, tall and firm, ordering him to do something without so much as breaking eye contact. That’s quite the risk. 

Nevertheless, he had no intention of seeing Adrien before he left. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Felix was grasping at straws to get out of there. If he went to bid his farewells, his cousin would ask why. When Felix wouldn’t be able to come up with a valid reason other than “I hate it here”, Adrien would insist that he stay. He would probably force him to dance too, just to make sure he was ‘having a good time’. Felix, personally, didn’t want to partake in that, which left the option of fleeing without a word. It might make their upcoming photoshoot a bit difficult, but Felix was willing to push through those types of complications as opposed to these types of complications. Adrien will simply have to get over it. There was no other way out of this.

Unless..

Felix’s gaze shifted back to Marinette, a wonderfully awful idea popping into his mind.

“You said you wanted to leave here too, right?” He asked, lightly grabbing her wrist.

Marinette frowned. “What?”

Felix smirked as he spun on his heel to lead them into the crowd. “You’re going to be my ticket out of here.”

Marinette stuttered a bit while she stumbled behind him, and although he couldn’t see her face, he could hear the confusion in her voice when she asked, “Your ticket? What do you mean?”

Felix weaved through the dancing idiots and searched for golden blonde hair along with the black and red dress that Tsurugi had been wearing. If he knew his cousin- which he did -they would be somewhere near the center of the dance floor.

“You’re going to say that you're sick,” Felix explained as they walked, “and then I’ll say that I’m going to take you home. Once we’re both outside, we can part ways and actually enjoy our evening.”

“What?” Marinette blanched, tugging her wrist out of his grasp. “I’m not going to lie to Adrien!”

Felix turned around to argue when someone behind them bumped into Marinette’s back, accidentally pushing her forward. He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her up to steady her. The action brought her flush against his chest, but he was too focused on persuading her to mind the closeness.

“Don’t think of it as lying,” He said, “think of it as sparing his feelings. This way I can leave with Adrien thinking we had fun together. Would you rather I tell him that I’ve hated every second of being here?”

Marinette sighed. “Well, no-”

“Then it’s settled.” Felix replied, stepping away to bring her further into the crowd.

They found Adrien a few minutes later, and as expected, he was in the middle of the dance floor. Kagami was dancing with him, doing what looked to be a butchered version of the Tango. The two were laughing and snorting together, obviously drunk but having a good time. The sight only confirmed Felix’s belief that his presence wasn’t necessary.

Marinette started twisting her wrist in his hand again, but Felix ignored it as he pressed forward to approach the love-sick couple. If she didn’t want to get wrapped up in this, she shouldn’t have opened her mouth and forced him to come talk to Adrien before leaving.

“Adrien.” Felix called over the music, coming to a stop next to them.  

The two continued dancing, blissfully unaware of their presence.

“Adrien!” Felix tried again.

Finally, Adrien paused, looking up at them from where he’d just dipped Kagami. It took a moment for the blonde to recognize them, but once he did, he flashed them both a sloppy smile and pulled Kagami back up to talk.

“Hey, Felix!” His cousin beamed. “I haven’t seen you all night! Where have you been?”

“Sitting at the bar.” Felix replied shortly. He tugged Marinette forward, who appeared rather uncomfortable at being thrown into the spotlight. “Meeting new friends.”

Adrien lit up. “Marinette! Have you been with Felix this whole time? I knew you guys would get along great!”

Marinette offered a nervous smile, but Felix spoke before she could. No sense in letting her back out by telling Adrien that she’s having a good time or something.

“Yes, she’s a wonderful conversationalist,” He said, letting go of her wrist to put a hand on her shoulder. They needed to look casual. “But I’m afraid she’s feeling a tad out of sorts at the moment. So I’m going to take her home.”

Adrien’s grin dropped immediately, fading into concern. “You’re not feeling well?”

She faltered.  “Uhm- well-”

“It’s nothing serious.” Felix interrupted. “Just a small case of nausea. I’ve already called my driver to pick her up.”

Kagami stepped forward and placed a hand on Marinette’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm.. Are you sure you want to go home with Felix?”

“I assure you she-”

“I didn’t ask you, did I?” Kagami said sharply.

Felix narrowed his eyes. He should have known that Tsurugi would be his main obstacle. She didn’t confine herself to social etiquettes like carefully choosing one’s words in order to stay in the good graces of everyone around you. She wouldn’t hesitate to stop them if she thought Marinette didn’t want to leave with Felix. Therefore, he was going to need Marinette to confirm her desire to go, which meant she had to actively participate in this scheme. 

His gaze flicked to the ravenette, only to find her staring up at him already. She was chewing on her lip and clearly deciding what to do. Felix subtly tilted his head in her direction and raised his eyebrows. He didn’t beg for things often, but he refused to come this close to victory only for it to be ripped out from under him because somebody had a heightened conscience.

Of course, he couldn’t plead with her aloud, since Tsurugi was still burning holes into his head, but the way Marinette squirmed implied that she knew exactly what he was trying to say.

Please.

She let out a small sigh, and Felix crossed his fingers.

“..Yes.” She answered, giving Felix a rush of relief. “Yes, I want him to take me home.”

Tsurugi searched Marinette’s expression for a moment, probably looking for fear or uncertainty, before turning to Felix. She gave him another glare, one that promised death. “You better treat her properly while you have her. If I hear about anything-”

Felix rolled his eyes. He wasn’t some barbarian. “She’ll be fine. We’ll see you at the next photoshoot.”

“Text me when you guys get home!” Adrien called after them. 

Felix only gave a short nod over his shoulder before he started pushing Marinette back through the crowd. He was almost there. A few steps further, and this nightmare of a night would be over.

Felix pushed open the front door of the club and eagerly stepped outside. The cool, night air washed over him, and he drew in a deep, refreshing breath. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it was sitting in that crowd. 

“This is so wrong.” Marinette mumbled behind him. “I should have just told them the truth.”

Aaaand the moment is ruined. Felix thought with a mental sigh. He looked up to the starry skies for patience, since he still needed her to go through with this until his driver arrived. Honestly, how did a young adult such as herself get so twisted up about a little, white lie? Everyone’s done it at least once in their life, even Adrien.

“The less they know, the better.” He said. “Besides, by the time they’re done drinking, they won’t even remember our little fib.”

“But-”

“Look.” Felix cut her off, saving himself from the lecture. “We can either go inside and apologize for something they truly won’t care for.. Or we can start walking before Rossi realizes we’ve left and tries to come after us.”

Marinette’s expression soured at the mention of Lila, just like he knew it would, and she glanced back at the club.

“..Let’s get going.”

Felix followed behind her with a small, triumphant smile. Finally! He escaped that wretched place, and now he got to roam the Parisian streets instead, which was infinitely better, in his opinion. Of course, anything was better than that club- except something involving Rossi -but Parisian streets always held a certain enchantment to them. The roads were never too crowded, save for the occasional groups of tourists, and the lights lining the building casted a soft, golden glow on the pavement. Even the Eiffel Tower was covered in lights. 

Most importantly, though, Paris was quiet. Sure, there were car engines and snorting laughter, but it was faint, distant. Something he could easily ignore if he wanted. 

The setting was quite contrary to the usually dark and dreary city in which he lived, but he enjoyed the change. Strolling through a place like this helped him relax and unwind, which he desperately needed to do. Those interactions with Adrien and Lila had pushed him to his limit. 

“So what brings you to Paris?” Marinette asked curiously. “I heard you don’t visit often.”

Felix stared at the scenery a bit longer, before bringing his gaze back down to her. He didn’t necessarily feel like talking, but his ride would be there soon. He could indulge her for the moment as thanks. 

“I’m here on business for my father. I have to do a photoshoot with Adrien for extra publicity and attend some parties that are being thrown by some of our business partners.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun.” Marinette replied thoughtfully. “I’ve never been to a formal, business party.”

Felix heaved a sigh. “Pray that you never do. They are horribly bland, and anyone there is usually stuck too far up their rear end to have a decent conversation with.”

Marinette snorted at the comment. “They’re really that bad, huh?”

“Let’s just say that I would prefer going back to that bar as an employee than go to these business parties. At least there I can tell women to leave me alone. I swear they’ll latch onto you harder than a leach simply because they know that they can.”

A frown tugged at the corner of her lips, the previous humor of the topic slipping away as quickly as it came. “And you can’t do anything about it?”

Felix shook his head. “Not without being butchered by the press.”

“I think I’d rather be butchered..” Marinette muttered. He completely agreed. Unfortunately, snapping at the esteemed guests or possible daughter of a massive source of income for his father’s company is highly frowned upon, else Felix would have done so long ago.

“Can’t you get a consort?” She inquired. “If you had a date, that should keep the girls away, right?”

Felix almost laughed. “Escorts are normally used for pitiful old men who can’t get dates by themselves. An escort for myself would simply be foolish, and it would hardly deter any of the other women.”

Marinette hummed. She was thinking really hard about this, wasn’t she?

“Why don’t you ask one of your friends to pretend to be your girlfriend?” She suggested. “If they thought you were dating someone, it shouldn’t be nearly as frowned upon to reject the other women openly.”

Felix clicked his tongue. “A tempting thought, but there’s one flaw.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t have any friends.” He informed her. “None that I could ask to perform such a roll, that is.”

The only female friends he had were his mother and Allegra, and Allegra was about to be married to Claude. Any other acquaintances he had were co-workers. One can imagine how that conversation would go. 

“Excuse me, can you pretend to be my significant other because I wouldn’t actually want to date you in real life, but I need oxygen to live?” 

Not ideal. 

Aside from that, pretending to be in a relationship is something that can easily get out of hand. The position of power that his ‘girlfriend’ would be put in is not something Felix is willing to risk. She would be able to say anything about him, true or false, and the press would accept it as fact because they were ‘dating’. No thank you.

“Oh..” Marinette said softly. “I guess that does kind of ruin it, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed it does.” Felix agreed. “But if you get any more bright ideas, please, don’t hesitate to share. I’m all ears.” 

Marinette shot him a look, as though she might smack him for the remark, but instead she glanced back down at the sidewalk. 

Then she said something that forever changed the events of his visit.

“..What if I became your fake girlfriend?”

Felix nearly tripped over himself at the comment. He must have misheard her, right? No sane person would suggest that so casually. They were complete strangers, after all. How was he supposed to know if he could trust her? Better yet, would she be able to play the part if he did?

“I-It was just a thought!” She added hastily, noticing his baffled expression. “You don’t have to agree or anything. I just know how it is to be pushed into uncomfortable positions..”

Felix rose a brow. “While your.. generosity is appreciated, I don’t think you would be a good fit. You couldn’t even lie about being sick tonight without almost collapsing from guilt. What makes you think you can lie to an entire ballroom’s worth of people?”

Marinette pressed her lips into a thin line, her anxiety easily shifting to frustration. She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes into a glare as she said, “I did not almost collapse, and that was different. I was lying to a close friend for a personal, selfish reason. This time I’d be lying to help you get away from gold diggers.”

Felix hummed. Yes, that made perfect sense. Forgive him for being ignorant about the fact that lying was somehow morally correct in one situation but condemning in another.

“So what’s in it for you?”

Marinette’s brows knitted together. “Oh.. uhm.. I just thought it would help you out, but.. I guess I could show off my designs? Working with Gabriel has been a good start, but if I wear them at the parties, maybe they’ll get more popular?”

Felix tilted his head back and forth as he assessed her answer. An exchange of peace for an exchange of popularity. He could work with that. “But are you sure you can pull it off? As I said before, the women there aren’t easily swayed. You might have to pull some scandalous stunts to dissuade them.”

Marinette scoffed and crossed her arms. “Please. You think I won’t get my hands dirty if I need to?”

Felix shrugged. “Again. You were the one who couldn’t lie about being sick.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You’re never going to let go of that now, are you?”

“Well, it is a bit telling of your nature.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” She retorted. “Anyway, how scandalous are we talking? I assumed holding hands was a given, and most likely side hugging too. Did you expect us to do something more intimate than that?”

Felix slowed his pace to a stop and looked at her. “Of course. That’s why I asked if you were prepared.”

Wariness began creeping into her expression. “Okay.. then how intimate do you plan on getting?”

“Well,” Felix began, taking a step towards her, “we need to look deeply in love at best. There might be some extremes that I’ll need you to play along with. Say, for example, the hugging isn’t convincing them.”

Felix stepped forward again, causing Marinette to take a step back. He followed her, step after step, until her back touched the brick wall of a closed flower shop.

“Everyone’s watching,” He continued, setting his arm against the wall next to her, “waiting to see what we’ll do to prove we’re legitimate. Would you be willing to do what it takes?”

A blush bloomed across her freckled cheeks, but she shot him a skeptical look despite. “I doubt they’d be rude enough to insist we kiss in order to prove our ‘relationship’.”

Felix smirked. “No, but it would be implied and whispered of. Those are the same as speaking aloud when it comes to business parties.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“And that’s a ‘no’.” Felix replied, pushing himself back up and away from her. He hadn’t expected her to do anything, but it was a tad disappointing knowing that he couldn’t use her idea. Having the women hovering around him instead of crushing him would have been nice-

Marinette grabbed the collar of his light blue, button-up shirt, stopping Felix in his tracks. She gave him a small glare, and before he could ask what she was doing or what she wanted, the ravenette yanked him downwards, crushing their lips together. 

Felix sucked in a breath, admittedly shocked, but he certainly didn’t pull away. No, he pulled her closer, cupping her cheek and deepening the kiss that she’d started. Marinette hummed slightly at the reciprocation and tilted her head to catch his lips fully. Her arms snaked up from his collar to around his neck, her dainty fingers raking through his hair. 

Felix let out a soft moan, but just as he was about to wrap his arm around her waist, Marinette broke the kiss. She put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him away, and met his gaze with lidded eyes.

Oh, if he thought her eyes were blues before..

“I’m not sure why we’d have to ‘prove ourselves’ like this,” She muttered, “but I think I’ve proven that I’m more than capable of pulling it off if necessary.”

Felix brushed his thumb over his lips, wiping away some of the ruby red lipstick that she’d left on him. 

“Mlle Marinette,”  He said, only just managing to keep from looking at her sweet, soft lips, now swollen slightly from the kiss, “I believe we have ourselves a deal.”

This fake relationship thing might work out, after all.

[cringe-moth]

The twin rings

I’ve seen a bunch of people talk about the twin rings as amoks but never about them holding some other magical properties.

Since we know there is an untold story about the Graham de Vanily twin rings and we get the vibe that they are a precious heirloom of the family, I find it unlikely that they will be amoks because that object is going to be passed on to someone else and Emelie would have probably known the risk of making the amok of whatever sentimonster she made an item highly sought after the rest of her family. This notion doesnt disprove anything and maybe there was a method to her madness but thats why i feel a bit hesitant toward the senti-adrien theory.

They could still be magical and even be a miraculous. We know the main miracle box in the show is based off the chinese zodiac but others exist as well. Why not a greek zodiac box? Gemini, twin rings, anybody? Perhaps it has the power to duplicate stuff hence twin cousins being born to twin sisters. The twin deaths of Emelie and Felix’s father. The bourgeois sisters, sisters of the same age born to different fathers. Does Kagami have a secret sibling?

Maybe both are true. They could be miraculouses that are also amoks and all that magic was what broke the peacock miraculous and made Emelie fall into a coma.

As far as I read on the fandom wiki, while multiple sentimonsters can exist at the same time, multiple seperate ones by the same holder cannot. Maybe this was a way to sidestep the limit.

in miraculous, everything comes as a pair. Everything has a duality and we should pay more attention to this aspect of the show.

[p-artsypants]

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (7)

Till Then

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Well, it’s spooky season! You know what that means? OH BOY SPOOKFEST!!!

FF.net | Ao3 

--

This investigation was not going well. 

First of all, she hadn’t attended the funeral. Perhaps she should have, to keep up appearances, but she couldn’t stomach sitting through the service while knowing there were no bodies in the caskets. 

It was wrong. 

She gave poor excuses to Alya and Nino, and skipped it. Maybe if she had gone, she could have learned more, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t stand it. 

Later that evening, Ladybug made a visit to the cemetery where the family crypt was. She allowed Tikki to do the actual investigating. She phased into the dirt of the freshly buried, unmarked grave, and concurred, it was the same coffin from before, with only sandbags inside. 

Gabriel’s too, over at the crypt. 

“Not much else to glean from this place,” Tikki said sadly. “Where to next?” 

“Actually,” Marinette wondered. “I have a hunch. Could you check Emilie’s casket too? She’s been dead for a while, so I apologize if what you see is…awful.” 

“I’ve seen worse. I’ll take a look!” 

Marinette waited anxiously, biting into her thumb nail. She really hoped she was wrong. Really really hoped. 

Tikki reappeared, her brow furrowed in concern. “You’re hunch was right. Emilie’s is just sandbags too.” 

She groaned, dread bleeding into her bones. “Damn it.”

“Maybe they’re all together?” 

“At this point, I don’t know if I should even hope for that. Emilie has been gone for years. Wherever she is…I doubt we’ll ever find her, let alone Adrien and Plagg.” 

“We’re not giving up though, right?”

“Of course not!” 

Marinette knew she had a chance of answers at the funeral home. The director knew more than he was letting on, but she had asked too many questions as Marinette, and going in to interrogate him as Ladybug would probably put her identity in jeopardy. She’d have to think on that one, and try to find a way around it. 

Now for the ‘basement’.

Till then, my darling, please wait for me

Till then, no matter when it will be

Someday I know I'll be back again

Please wait till then

Since Felix had confirmed that the Mansion didn’t have a basement, she assumed the office building did. Nowhere else did Gabriel or Adrien spend a significant amount of time. 

While the workers were still on their vacation, she went in. There was still a secretary, though she was dressed in casual clothes, and the doors were closed to the public. 

“Hi Miss Dupain-Cheng. Working today?”

“Um, something like that. Organizing some stuff.” 

“Alright, well, let me know if you need anything. I’m just here to tell clients that we’re off for a while.”

Marinette smiled. “Thank you. Um...perhaps, do you know if there’s a basement?”

“Basement? Uh...there might be one. I’m not sure. The main elevator doesn’t go there.”

“Alright. I’ll look around then,” she smiled patiently and bid the woman adieu. 

The building was unsettling without anyone in it. Half the lights were turned down, and the only sounds were the hum of the air conditioning and her footsteps echoing in the dim hallways. 

Several years ago, when she had first started, she was given a tour. A tour that seemed so unimportant then, she was scraping for now. There was a back staircase, in case of fire. That much she could remember. 

The big iron door slammed shut behind her as she entered the stairs. There was a door with an Exit sign over it, the outside world on the other side. A set of stairs went up and around, to every floor above. 

But there was one more door. Labelled with a big ‘SS’ for ‘Sous-sol’. 

‘Basement’, in French.   

“Tikki! I found it!” She said to her purse. 

“Great job! Let’s get to the bottom of things!” 

Marinette screwed up her lips. “Pun intended?”

“In memory of Chat Noir, yes.” 

“That is what he would have said, isn’t it? God, I miss him so much.” But she decided not to mourn her best friend in the dank, spider-infested stairwell. 

Of course, the door was locked. 

“Nothing is ever simple, is it? I wonder who would have the key. Janitor? Maybe Gabriel has a set in his old office.” 

“Aren’t you forgetting your ultimate skeleton key?” Tikki asked. 

“...um, yes, apparently.” 

Tikki flew from the purse, and phased through the door handle. It clicked a moment later, and the handle turned. 

“Wow, you’re convenient. Remind me to ask for favors in breaking and entering more often.” 

“Anything for you, Marinette!” 

She felt along the wall, found a lightswitch, and turned it on. Deep below, a few scant lights flickered to life. 

And in the columns of flickering light stood silhouetted figures. Still, waiting. 

Marinette held her breath, afraid she had been caught. 

“Tikki…” She readied herself to transform the moment they moved. She was still in the dark, they wouldn’t have seen her. 

Seconds ticked on. They stood, never flinching, never so much as breathing. 

“Oh my god, they’re mannequins,” she breathed. “I mean, duh but holy shit that was terrifying.” 

She descended the stairs, one at a time, still being quiet, and keeping her eyes glued to the forms. 

They didn’t move, because they were plastic, and as she drew closer to them, she realized how fake they were. 

They weren’t even good mannequins. The paint was chipping and the proportions looked odd. 

“These go in shop windows, right?” Asked Tikki. “I’ve seen a few from your purse.” 

“That’s right. These look really old. I’m surprised they haven’t been recycled.” 

“Is this what Adrien wanted you to see?”

“I doubt it. What would mannequins have to do with anything?”

Tikki shrugged too, and looked around.     

It was the worst three hours of her life. 

But because Adrien had used what was presumably his dying words to tell her to look here, she scoped that place out thoroughly. She named all the mannequins, to try to take the edge off. It didn’t really help, but it made ‘James’ the eerily realistic mannequin that stood in the shadows a little more friendly instead of a murderer in waiting. 

There was nothing there except old clothes, rejected materials, and a whole lot of new friends that Marinette never wanted to see again. 

As Marinette pushed aside the 9th box filled with 70’s paisley shirts, she sighed. “I think...I think I’m looking in the wrong place.” 

“I agree,” Tikki said, her antenna drooping. “I think we should have found something by now, right?” 

“I couldn’t even find any inspiration down here.” 

In the corner of her eye, she saw something, and turned quickly. 

“What?” Said Tikki wearily, already knowing what was wrong. 

“Another freaking mannequin! I swear they’re moving when I’m not looking at them!” 

“They can’t do that.” 

“I know that, but my eyes are tired and my heart is on the edge, and coffee isn’t working on my brain anymore!” 

“I think we should leave then. Maybe try looking at the mansion again. Maybe there’s a basement that Felix didn’t know about.”

At that moment, her phone chirped with a message from Nathalie. 

Please don’t forget, tomorrow, despite it being Saturday, your presence is required at the Agreste Manor. Gabriel’s Last Will and Testament will be reviewed, and you have been named. Since Mr. Agreste is so famous, we have asked all beneficiaries to attend. Sunday, you have off.

“Well, looks like I have an excuse to go back to the mansion after all. Probably should get in there and explore quickly. I have no idea what’s going to happen to it in the wake of...well, you know.” 

“Someone is probably going to inherit it. Probably Felix now. He seemed rather friendly at the funeral. He might let you snoop.”

“Friendly?” 

“More than usual, at least. But who knows how long that will last.” 

“If I have to show my cards to investigate, I will. If Ladybug has to break in, I will. I’m not going down in silence.”

 Our dreams will live though we are apart

Our love I know we'll keep in our hearts

Till then, when all the world will be free

Please wait for me

True to form, she arrived the next day at the mansion. 

As she came into the parlor, where many people were gathered, Felix caught her eye. He jerked his head, gesturing for her to come sit by him. 

As she sat, she looked at the others gathered. She recognized Nathalie, of course, Amelie and Felix, and Mayor Bourgeois. There were a few other people she didn’t know. One she had seen at the company, but she couldn’t remember his name right now. 

“So,” she asked softly. “Is the lawyer going to read the Will out?” 

Felix scoffed. “They don’t do that anymore. We’re just all going to get a copy, and the lawyer will be here if we have questions. Normally, I’m pretty sure they mail it, but I heard that the Will is sealed so they wanted us to get it in person.” 

“Sealed?” 

“Meaning no one else can read it. Last Wills and Testaments are public records after death. Unless they are sealed.” 

“Uh. I didn’t know any of that. This is my first time being in a Will. Well, I think my dad has one, but he’s still alive.” 

“Good for you.” 

“That is—I mean—I wasn’t trying to—“ 

“Just shut up, Dupain-Cheng.” He chuckled. “You are so sensitive.” 

She just childishly stuck her tongue out at him. 

A moment later, Nathalie and a white haired gentleman arrived. 

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming. This is Dr. Nathaniel Grey, the Agreste family lawyer and executor of their estate. Now, everyone listed in the Will will receive a copy. Each copy has the same content, but for convenience, I have highlighted your name.” And she started to hand out the packets, calling out names as she did so.

Some of the strangers had the last name ‘Agreste’ so they had to have been related to Gabriel. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” 

Marinette held out her hand to receive the thick white envelope. 

“Oh Felix!” Amelie cooed. “Emilie left you her corvette! She loved that car, I know she’d be proud for you to have it.” 

“I’ve seen it. Beautiful classic car. I’m honored.” As much of an ass as he was, Felix sounded genuine in that sentiment. 

To not seem too eager, Marinette carefully opened the envelope. As she did, she tried to imagine what he would have left her. A share in the company maybe? Maybe a family sewing machine? Nothing much, surely.

She unfurled the sheet and wow that was a lot of pink. 

“What the hell?” Felix gasped, looking over her shoulder. He glanced back at his page, and frowned in confusion. “No offense Marinette, but what the hell?”

“I…I don’t even know…” She glanced over the assets willed to her. 

Gabriel left her the mansion.

Up until that moment, she had forgotten she was supposed to be looking for a new place after Nino and Alya got married. She had mentioned it to Gabriel once, off-handed, and he seemed to not really care. 

But if he left the house to her, could he have cared more than she thought? 

The mansion wasn’t the only thing he left to her, either. He left his share of the company stocks, as well as trusts and bonds. Marinette had become a multi-millionaire. 

“What’s the meaning of this, Dr. Grey!?” A woman shouted. 

The shout drew all attention to her. She was a rail thin, tall woman, with high cheek bones and blonde-white hair tied up in a bun. 

“What seems to be the problem, Madam Laurent?”

“I was left a small fraction of stock and my mother’s ashes, but this—this half breed harlot gets the entire estate!?” 

Marinette flinched, feeling guilty and wholly undeserving of Mr. Agreste’s gift. 

Thankfully, Nathalie of all people came to her aid. “Miss Dupain-Cheng has been working tirelessly and closely with Gabriel to continue his brand. She’s been named head designer for his company, and everything left to her is to help in that endeavor.”

As she and Felix looked over the list of gifts, she wondered how true that was. 

“But I’m his sister!” Said Madam Laurent. “I take precedence over her!”

“Not with a will, you don’t.” Dr. Grey explained. “Children are the only protected heirs in French law. The rest of his estate is his to do with as he pleases.” 

Marinette looked back at all the pink highlights. She began to wonder if they served a purpose in distracting everyone from the obvious. 

Adrien wasn’t on there. Not once. 

Although there are oceans we must cross

And mountains that we must climb

I know every gain must have a loss,

So pray that our loss is nothing but time

He couldn’t be disinherited from the Will, not under French law. And yet he was missing…like the Will had been drawn up with the knowledge that Adrien wouldn’t be alive once it was valid. 

Pale and shaking, Marinette turned to look at Felix. 

“Don’t let her get to you, Kid,” he nudged her, taking her appearance for still being put off by the woman. “Gabriel’s family has always been lower middle class, before he became famous. She probably just wanted a bunch of money…whereas most of it was my Aunt’s and it was returned to our family. Does that make sense?”

Marinette shook her head, and then whispered. “Adrien isn’t here.” 

He gave her a soft smile. “Yeah, I know. He’s gone, Marinette.” 

“No!” She shouted, then hushed herself as the others turned to look. “No, I mean…he’s not here.” She pointed at the Will.

Felix grew pale too, and poured over the Will himself. “No way…how…but—maybe it was an assumption. Maybe it was assumed that Adrien was going to inherit half anyway, so he made the Will in case something happened?” 

“Dr. Grey,” Marinette stood and walked to him. “How old is this version of the Will?” 

Nathalie gave her a sharp look, but didn’t comment. 

“Well, a little over a week, actually. Gabriel called me and asked to make some changes.” 

“And why isn’t his son in here?” She asked, darkly. 

Dr. Grey screwed up his lips. “You know, I don’t know. I told Mr. Agreste what the law was, and he said, ‘just write it up as if Adrien didn’t exist.’ I wonder if he knew what their fate was going to be.” 

Marinette tried not to cry. She really did, but she just clenched the document to her chest and sobbed. 

“Now now, my dear. Don’t be so blue.”

“Adrien isn’t a murderer! He can’t be!” 

“Does it really matter anymore?” The lawyer asked. “The truth of their demise will not be released publicly. Only a handful of people will know. I doubt anyone outside of this room, in fact.” He said it so casually, like nothing was wrong. 

“Didn’t you find it suspicious?” She demanded. 

“No,” said Dr. Grey. “You would be surprised at how many clients have second versions of Wills without a child in it. Whether it’s because they’re hoping something will happen, or they see their child going down a dangerous road. Or perhaps the child is terminally ill and the parent doubts they will survive longer than them. Regardless of the reason, I choose to not ask questions.” 

Marinette wished he had. 

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

“Now, did you see the conditions?”

“What?” She sniffed. 

“Here,” Dr. Grey pointed to an asterisk at the end of the mansion item. “This states that there’s a condition applied, and the condition will be on the backside.” 

Marinette wiped her face and turned the paper over. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng must reside within the mansion for ten years. Within that time, she may not redecorate or refurnish any room except for the ‘pink room’. Guests, spouses, and children are welcomed to join her, as long as she is the primary resident. If she is to go on vacation or an extended business trip, the house must be vacant, save for those who would keep it from disrepair. If Miss Dupain-Cheng fails to comply, the house, and all that is in it, must be demolished. It cannot be sold or gifted to anyone until the ten year mark passes.” 

Marinette just continued to stare. “I…that’s…really specific.” 

“More specific than I suggested, but it’s what Mr. Agreste wanted.” 

With a calm expression, but a heart in turmoil, Marinette folded her copy up. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Grey. If you’ll excuse me, I need a minute alone.” She took her copy and quickly walked across the lobby to her office. 

There, on her desk, was a vase with a bouquet of roses. She hadn’t been in here since before the funeral, but they looked fresh. No card though. 

She set the roses to the side, and unfurled the Will once again, laying it flat on the desktop. She poured over every item, not just Willed to her, but to everyone. 

Indeed, there was no sign of Adrien, but also no sign of his property. Did he have his own Will somewhere else?

There was the curious case of Nathalie, who was in the Will, but received only money and trusts. Not an inch of material property, despite her closeness to Gabriel after all these years. 

What did she know? What had she seen? Truthfully, Marinette was too afraid to ask. 

Tomorrow, she would visit City Hall and get the records of the mansion. Hopefully, there were some blueprints in there, and the hidden basement would be found.

Till then, let's dream of what there will be

Till then, we'll call on each memory

Till then, when I will hold you again

Please wait till then

[nxrthmizu]

| the detective and the blue-eyed fox | ch.5

»»——⍟——««

title | all her fault 

pairing | Damian Wayne x Marinette Dupain-Cheng 

warnings | mentions of death, death, but nothing explicitly described

words | 3.1k 

author’s note | im emotionally invested in this series, i have ch.6 and ch.7 planned out too :3 prepare yourself for more twists and (maybe) a major death :))) also this wasn’t proof-read,,, lmk if there are any mistakes! enjoy :3 

»»——⍟——««

| beginning | previous part | ao3 | 

»»——⍟——«« 

Three walls of cement and one wall of two-inch glass. Gabriel Agreste faced the four blank slates of his confinement everyday for three months, pondering on how he was going to endure the remaining of his days in his dreary ‘home’. They wouldn’t even provide him with paper to create some sketches on- (What were they afraid of? Paper butterflies? He was powerless without his miraculous). 

“So, what business do we have today, Ms. Rossi?” He asked smoothly, business-like as ever despite not being able to remember the last time he had a conversation. Three months of complete isolation- The guards wouldn’t even spare him a single word, and to be fair, he couldn’t blame them. 

“Did you hear about Adrien?” 

Being straightforward when she wanted to be was one of Lila’s strong traits. Her words were driven to the point, cleared from the lies that typically shrouded them. A borderline sadistic smile traced her vermilion lips when a spark of curiosity glimmered in the man’s eyes- Oh, she was going to enjoy being the bearer of the staggering news. 

“What about Adrien?” She could tell- He was expecting something perhaps along the lines of his son screwing up the company he inherited, or perhaps his son making a public statement about- 

“He’s dead.” 

Gabriel froze from where he was seated on the cement block they provided him with, red draining from his already-pale skin and his bloodshot eyes. “What?” His voice was but a hoarse whisper, a denial, a beg, a plea for the woman to laugh and tell him that it was all some cruel joke. 

“He was murdered.” Oh, how she enjoyed seeing the anguish dawn into his eyes. The pain seeped into his body like a parasite, leeching away any will of survival the man had left. “Two weeks ago.” 

If getting stripped of his miraculous and being arrested was the sky crashing upon the world he tried so hard to bring his wife back into, then the revelation of his son’s death would be the universe collapsing into itself, becoming a black hole that self destructed from the very core of Gabriel Agreste’s heart. 

“Felix Graham de Vanily is combining the Agreste and the Vanily companies with a horizontal merger,” Lila continued, enjoying the acidic pain that burned through the heartless man’s soul. “Oh, and did I tell you? From the day Adrien died, Chat Noir stopped patrolling the city.” 

The rush of ‘What if he was murdered because I was Hawkmoth?’ and ‘There are no more Agrestes left...’ smashed into him like water reaching the bottom of the waterfall. There was no mercy behind the strong wave of despair; no mercy behind Lila Rossi’s cold eyes and satisfied smile; no mercy that the world had left for him as a punishment for all his crimes. 

“I think I might know who killed him, but I need you to be honest with me,” Lila said softly, enjoying the view of the man’s bowed head. The swollen red of his teary eyes made something inside her heart stir, and it wasn’t sympathy. No, not at all. Her heart swelled with a triumphant laugh, a satisfaction that can only be achieved through the means of revenge. “What happened to the peacock miraculous?” 

»»——⍟——«« 

[Paris, three months ago] 

In the midst of destruction you could easily find pain, agony, and despair, because wherever you looked, there was someone who had no time to mourn, but still mourned nonetheless. Ladybug had lost count of how many Paris lost after the hundredth- And the count was only increasing exponentially by every passing second. The former city of love was doing its’ best impression of a society undergoing an apocalypse- In fact, it was a society undergoing an apocalypse. 

Exhaustion clawed at Paris’s heroine like a monster that wanted to be released from its’ cage. It tore at her without pause, releasing soreness into her muscles and weariness into her mentality. How much longer did she had to fight? How much longer until she couldn’t go on anymore? How much longer until Paris would fall into the hands of the man who could only focus on what he wanted? 

And what would happen to Paris if she couldn’t stand any longer to defend it? 

Smoke painted every inch and corner of the skyline in an abstract painting, which would’ve been beautiful if it wasn’t because of the direness of the situation. The clouds were stained a dirty red and firetrucks wailed in the distance, too little of them to keep up with the demand of damage control. Screams echoed across the city, a painful reminder to the heroine of how many lives she had let down. Nothing pained the heroine more than the fact she had been trusted with so many and ended up failing just as many.

A little distance away, shrouded under the same red sky that Ladybug stood under, was the Le Grand Paris. A section of the grand hotel had caved in, leaving the top half of the building in ruins. The golden embellishments of the hotel were caked in dust, the grandeur of Paris’s greatest hotel submitting to the chaos and destruction around it. 

“Come on! Get in here! Hurry up!” 

Chloe couldn’t believe her eyes. 

There stood Mayor Bourgeois, urgently yelling out orders for as many people as possible to get into the hotel’s wine cellar, which would be underground and as safe as it got at the moment. The endless stream of Parisians flowed continuously through the open doors of the hotel, the hotel’s large wine cellar being able to accommodate about half of Paris’s (surviving) population. 

For once in her life, Chloe was proud to call the mayor her father. 

“Daddy! I’ll go get more people here!” She yelled over the bustling noise. Worry clumped over the mayor and butler Jean’s eyes, but her father nodded nonetheless, a smile slipping over his lips. 

“Be careful, my dear!” 

On the other side of Paris, Alya was holding onto her younger siblings as tightly as she could, all four of them hidden under the dining table. A loud ring startled all of them, the second-oldest Cesaire turning her attention to her phone. Earthquake-like vibrations made multiple household objects topple and smash onto the floor, much to the twins’ terror. 

“Chloe?” She breathed, picking up the call. 

The voice that came in response was panting, taking hurried, shuddering breaths. The consistent thump-thump-thump of footsteps also echoed through the phone, accompanied by the distance rings of destruction. “Where are you? Get your family towards Le Grand Paris, you can hide in the wine cellar!” 

Alya couldn’t believe the blonde’s words. 

“And if you’re up to it, spread the word! The wine cellar is the safest place we have right now.” 

The call ended, Alya blinking back her surprise in exchange of a courage that surged forward all of a sudden. “Nora, take Ella and Etta to Le Grand Paris and hide in the wine cellar.” 

“And where are you going?” 

Alya steeled her jittering nerves. “I’m going to get out there and help.”

Not too far away from the Cesaire’s apartment, Ladybug was swinging through the city, surveying the damage. The whizz of her yoyo felt deafening to her ears, and everything hurt. Her muscles were sore, her legs were shaking, and her vision felt blurry. Half of Paris was a rubble of cement and dust, and the other half was on the verge of collapsing soon. 

Ladybug’s eyes widened in horror as she jerked back, catching sight of a familiar building that was so burdened with destruction that she could barely recognise it if it wasn’t for the fact that she knew she was on the right street. 

“No. No, no, no. Nononono-” Her breath caught in her throat, suffocating and strangling her from inside. 

The bakery had collapsed. 

She prayed with all her heart that her parents had gotten out, but from the looks of it, the bakery was hit fast and the chances that- 

No. 

“Think positive thoughts, Marinette.” The heroine whispered to herself, desperate and unwilling to face what she was sure was the truth. “Maybe they got out. Maybe they got out. They’re fine.” 

Even as she swung off, Ladybug knew in her heart that despite the lies she insisted on telling herself, her parents’ dead bodies were somewhere underneath the rubble. 

»»——⍟——«« 

“Mamma!” Tears streamed down Lila’s face as she tugged and pulled at the portion of their ceiling that had chosen the diplomat as its’ victim. There was no use- Both of them knew as well as 1 + 1 that there was no way Lila could lift the concrete block by herself. 

The diplomat looked up with a weak smile, already having come to terms with how her life would end- With her lower half crushed by a ceiling. “Leave me here, dear, the building’s going to-” 

Lila shook her head stubbornly, desperately trying to lift the concrete again, only to look up in surprise, not having expected a pair of spandexed hands to join hers. Ladybug let out a grunt as she tried to nudge the collapsed ceiling even just a little, her suit tearing due to the rough surface of the collapsed ceiling. 

“Come on, we’ll push at the count of three!” The hero instructed, groaning and giving all her strength to the giant piece of debris, but it was no use. Ladybug was tired and worn out, and the little strength she had in her was not enough to overcome the concrete’s stubbornness to stay put. “I... I could...” She flung out her yoyo, trying to think of a way to use the concrete’s weight against itself. 

“Ladybug, the building is collapsing, please just leave me be.” The diplomat pleaded. “Lila, please get out of here!” 

The building groaned, supporting the woman’s statement. Ladybug bowed apologetically, guilt lurking in every corner of her eyes. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance, ma’am.” 

“You’ve done a lot for Paris. I should thank you.” The woman whispered, smiling painfully at her daughter. “I’m sorry, Lila. I love you, forever.” 

The girl sniffled, pressing her lips into a thin line. “I love you too, mamma.” 

“Come on, Lila.” Ladybug whispered gently, pulling the teen away. It was as heart-wrenching as abandoning a puppy on the side of the road on a rainy day, but the diplomat was right- The building was giving in, and if they didn’t get out themselves, Paris’s death count would only increase by another two. 

The escape from the building was quiet, only filled by the whizz of the yoyo. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have done more.” Ladybug said softly. 

“It’s not your fault.” Lila sniffled bitterly. Now that they were soaring over the city, Lila could see just how much of it was crumbled and broken- At least 70% of the city was reduced to rubbles, and the Eiffel tower, who had once stood tall at the core of Paris, had now bowed down to the wrath of the man who knew nothing but his own wants. 

It was at that moment that Lila Rossi decided that the person she hated the most was Hawkmoth.  

»»——⍟——«« 

You never know the true meaning of horror until you live that one moment that crushes you inside. 

It freezes your blood, it makes your heart stop, and your chest feels like its’ being constricted. You can’t breath, and your field of vision just narrows to the one point that defines the cause of all your pain. Sometimes, you don’t even know what you feel. All emotion has been drained out of you, and your brain has lagged behind, unsure of how to react. 

Chloe stood in front of Le Grand Paris- The remains of it, anyway, and came to the conclusion that her father saved at least a thousand lives that day. All by putting aside his own safety and shepherding millions of his citizens into the wine cellar. 

It was over. 

It took hours for the firefighters to dig out the entrance to the wine cellar, millions and thousands of relieved Parisians crawling from the hole. The daughter of the mayor sat and waited, helping wherever she could. There were too many tears shed, too much blood bled, and too many people dead. 

She watched the line of Parisians trickle from what was formerly Le Grand Paris’s wine cellar. She waited and waited until the sun finally had mercy on Paris and ended the day that would be marked as the end of the city of love. She prayed and hoped until she saw the last man crawl from the cellar. 

And then she faced the truth that neither her father nor butler Jean made it into the wine cellar themselves. 

»»——⍟——«« 

Adjusting to the bright light shining around her was difficult, to say the least. Paris had been shrouded in semi-darkness for the past twenty-four hours. 

Marinette sat up hurriedly, groaning at the piercing pain that shot thorugh her spine at the action. All around her were her friends’ worried faces, Alya’s, Adrien’s, Nino’s, Chloe’s- Were those tears on Chloe’s cheeks? And was that Lila comforting her?

“Alya found you passed out in the middle of the street after it ended.” Nino explained quickly. 

Ah, that was what they were calling it now, Marinette thought. The battle she had fought for over fifteen hours without pause was now labelled ‘It’. 

“What were you doing out there, you could’ve died!” Alya scolded, but despite the tone, the teen was more glad than anything to see that the bluenette had made it. 

“Where... Are we? And why is everything so... Destroyed?” 

The classmates shared looks that practically spelt ‘Who’s going to break it to her?’. 

“Ladybug disappeared after the battle was won. She never got to use her miraculous cure.” Chloe supplied the explanation coldly. “Thousands are dead. Almost every building needs to be rebuilt.” 

Adrien offered her a weak smile that was on the verge of breaking. “Hawkmoth is gone for good.” There was a faint suggestion in the boy’s eyes that he was going through much more pain than any of them knew. “Hawkmoth... My father. My father was Hawkmoth. He was arrested a couple hours ago. Nathalie was Mayura.” 

Silence shrouded the teens like a  black rain cloud. “I’m sorry, Adrien.” Marinette whispered. It was coming back to her now- Chat Noir’s anguished screams when they discovered Gabriel Agreste, decked out in his purple suit, standing in the attic of Agreste Manor, Mayura’s escape- Feeling like she couldn’t go any further. The last thing she remembered was her transformation dropping, and contact with the cold hard ground. 

“Don’t be.” Lila responded nonchalantly. “I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that this whole shit was Hawkmoth’s fault and no one else’s. Almost everyone has lost a family member. Some of us lost more than others. It’s no one’s fault, so don’t you go apologising, Dupain-Cheng.” 

Her friends murmured their agreements, giving her soft smiles despite the devastation that tore at each of their hearts. 

Marinette wanted to laugh. 

Thousands dead and it was because she couldn’t hold on for two more seconds to use her miraculous cure. 

Thousands dead, including her own parents, Lila’s, and god knows how many others’ parents, siblings, lovers, and friends. 

Thousands dead and it was all. Her. Fault. 

»»——⍟——«« 

“Well?” 

Impatience decorated Lila’s tone as she tapped her heels, waiting for the terrorist’s answer. The click of her heels echoed through the room, bouncing off the concrete walls to create the loudest noise Gabriel had ever heard in a long time. 

“What happened to the peacock miraculous?” She repeated one more time for good measure, irked and irritated by the lack of answer from the other side of the glass. 

“It’s gone.” Gabriel answered softly after a while. “When they found Nathalie passed out in that alley, she didn’t have her miraculous on.” The man’s former assistant had fled after Ladybug and Chat Noir confronted them in the Agreste Manor, but two hours later, she was found unconscious in a back alley, and it was later discovered in the hospital that she had fallen into a coma. 

Bewilderment lit inside the woman’s eyes, burning beside the fury that blazed inside her soul. “Are you telling me someone stole them?” She hissed, resisting the urge to slam her hands on something. 

“No.” Gabriel answered reluctantly, slightly afraid of the woman’s fury. If it was any consolation, he knew the two-inch glass wall would prevent her from inflicting any harm onto him. “I’m telling you that Duusu probably ran off with her own miraculous.” 

The woman sucked in a deep breath, regulating her breathing to regain her composure. “Then do you have any idea where she went?” 

“Duusu is corrupted and manipulative, but she’ll need a host to operate through. She’d probably look for someone emotional, someone who’s lost a lot and is in a lot of pain.” Gabriel sighed, looking up to be met by Lila’s annoyed expression. 

“Oh wow.” Said the woman sarcastically, hands propped on her hips in a pretentious, thoughtful manner. “Someone emotional, someone who’s lost a lot and is in a lot of pain. That just about defines everyone that survived the apocalypse you laid on us three months ago.” 

It was at that moment Lila’s sarcastic attitude brought Gabriel to a terrifying conclusion. There was no amount of sympathy in her eyes, and judging from the hate and loath in her eyes... The revelation splashed him like a cold bucket of ice water, waking him up from the small smudge of hope he got to hold for a couple of seconds. 

“You aren’t here to get me out.” He whispered. Just when he thought that the sly woman was going to get him out of the four walls he was trapped in- She slammed her true intentions back into his face with no mercy. 

“You killed my mother, you bastard.” She smiled so sweetly that he wouldn’t be surprised if she was instantly cast as the beautiful but wicked stepmother from Snow White or perhaps the enchantress from Sleeping Beauty. “As well as the friends and family of thousand others. I hope you rot in jail forever.” 

»»——⍟——«« 

If anyone’s confused on the timeline of the story, this is how it goes: 

3 months before current time, the final battle takes place (ch.5). Thousands die because Ladybug didn’t get to use her miraculous cure. Hawkmoth is arrested and Nathalie falls into a coma. Ladybug/Marinette leave Paris after the battle is over.

Ladybug/Marinette heads to Gotham, where Marinette gets hired into GCPD and becomes partners with Damian. She also becomes Gotham’s newest vigilante, Lan, who exposes corrupt politicians 

2 weeks before current time, Adrien Agreste is murdered and Chat Noir stops patrolling Paris. (This is when Marinette learns from Tikki that Adrien and Chat are the same person even though the conversation wasn’t written) 

Current time (ch.1) Lan asks Damian to help her find the miraculous of the black cat 

Damian, the next day, finds out that Plagg and the black cat miraculous have been in his apartment the whole time (He then emails her and asks her to go to his apartment to discuss things) 

(ch.4) Damian and Marinette talk 

At the same time, in Paris, Luka visits Chloe, who is apparently in kahoots with him 

Also at the same time, Lila breaks into the highest security prison in Paris and talks to Gabriel Agreste/Hawkmoth (also partly ch.5) 

That’s about it for now :3 

taglist. @demonicbusiness @animegirlweeb @roselynfey @2confused-2doanything @insane-fangirl-of-everything @promiswords @galaxylightmoon @fusser90 @ira-sairain @liquid-luck-00 @glastwime859

gen. daminette taglist. @maskedpainter @animegirlweeb @missmadwoman

»»——⍟——«« 

| next part | ao3 | 

»»——⍟——«« 

[thechatsmeow]

So um... does anyone have any links to theories abt the graham/bourgeois/tsurugi/agreste connection?? I know I saw someone bring it up once but I can’t find it again and I’m having a hard time finding stuff on it in general

Tinfoil hatting under the cut (warning, it’s a long and disorganized post)

I remember seeing someone spitball about the possibility of some kind of secret society/conspiracy with them and honestly I’m?? Kinda seeing it holy shit

First I’d like to bring up this symbol

this first appeared (to my knowledge) in Gorizilla. It flashed prominently on the screen before the movie, obviously meant to come across as a pre-movie ad. However it’s placement feels VERY deliberate. you’re supposed to notice it

when it zooms out, we see the name on the car is tsurugi

this symbol also appears in Ikari Gozen, in the Tsurugis’ smart car. 

I feel like this is important. Some kind of triangle with three pieces in it. The symbols inside of it remind me of halves of a yin yang sign. (it also reminds me of sharingan but my weebism is not relevant)

While we don’t know very much about Tomoe Tsurugi, we do know that she is well acquainted with Gabriel. She also, like Gabriel, has a “perfect” child that’s being groomed to be the perfect successor. (A side note, I can’t help but feel like Kagami’s ring is important also, but I don’t have anything to go off of with that.)

Interestingly, at the end of Feast, when the news shows that the Guardian Temple returned, the camera cuts to the reactions of 3 specific people. It flashes to Tomoe Tsurugi, Audrey Bourgeois, and Gabriel/Nathalie. Hmm. Sure Gabriel and Nathalie have a reason to be interested, but the other two? 🤔

What could they possibly have to do with it? 🤔🤔🤔

Back to Gorizilla. 

old news ofc, plenty of people discussed this. just throwing it in the post to solidify Audrey’s involvement in all... this since she hasn’t really had many other hints dropped about her that I’ve picked up on. I find it interesting though out of all involved parties Audrey’s the only one who’s kid isn’t being brought up into some freakishly perfect little golden child. Maybe she decided Chloe wasn’t worth the effort lmao. 

Onto the Grahams. 

An early reference to the Graham family twin rings brought up in Felix. We know those rings are important, somehow, but we don’t know how. They’re either super duper symbolic of something or literally magical. Given that one of them now belongs to Felix and all the little quips about him being such a little magician, and being super interested in the backstory of the rings, I’m inclined to believe they’re literally magical. Especially with how much Amelie wanted them back. I don’t think Gabriel knows the significance of the rings, he’s merely attached to them bc they’re literally his and emilie’s wedding rings. 

Gabriel’s relationship with the Graham family is actually super interesting in general. I’m fully convinced the Graham’s were up to some shady shit. Gabriel seems generally uninterested in interacting with them, and the fact that he didn’t let Adrien go to Mr Graham’s funeral shows some strain between the two families. I wonder if maybe Emilie tried to distance herself from them when she married Gabriel? I feel like Gabriel was pretty out of the loop in general, even with the Miraculous’, considering he didn’t even know how to activate Nooroo without asking. I think perhaps he got roped into Emilie’s magical bullshit.

This is probably just my super secret strong desire for Emilie to be The Real Villain shining through, but that’s neither here nor there.

We still don’t know why she was using the Peacock Miraculous in the first place, it would be super interesting if it had something to do with the Graham family and their potentially evil shenanigans. 

I want to know how the kids potentially play into this. All involved parties have a child around the same age. In Adrien and Kagami’s case at least (can’t speak for felix since we haven’t seen much of him) we have two kids with overbearing parents that isolate them and expect absolute perfection.

I’m ESPECIALLY interested in Adrien’s upbringing. Gabriel is a massive piece of shit but he must not be the only one, since he isn’t soley responsible for his isolation. His mom’s only been missing a year, his homeschooling, insane amount of extracurriculars, and complete isolation from people his own age is NOT new. Gabriel and Emilie deciding that Adrien gets to grow up as a repressed friendless ball of Perfection was a joint effort. We’re given the impression that Adrien was close with his mom and that she was sweet and loving in that vague Dead Mom kinda way but we really know nothing about her. Perhaps they were just insanely overprotective but I feel like there’s more beneath the surface here.

And isn’t it interesting that the only other kid he DID get to socialize with and befriend was none other than the daughter of Audrey Bourgeois? Who we know has to have at least some involvement in all this crazy shit? 

Another thing I think about is Gabriel mentioning his “promise” to Emilie. Now this could just be a vague romantic “I promise to bring u back wifey uwu” but wouldn’t it be interesting if she actually... made him promise to bring her back? (I’m sorry u can probably tell that i just rlly want her to be evil)

I’m not sure where exactly I’m going with all this but it’s been knockin around in my brain and i wanted to write it down for my sanity’s sake

[generalluxun]

Fanfiction: Reciprocation, Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Felix is now balancing his new 'discovery' with his plans to take the Peacock from Gabriel. It is a toss up as to which task is more daunting. Link to the AO3 posting in the bio. Full text after the break. As always, your comments/questions are welcome.

Felix had to settle for being handled into new clothing, fawned over, and reprimanded before he could leave. Chloé was present for none of it. Now Felix had two things to consider, perhaps more, and each less appealing than the last.

What, or how, to deal with his uncle was still paramount. Merely gaining entry to his lair would be meaningless. He needed time to work, to implement his bargaining chip. Even if he were to assume his uncle would add no security in the wake of the missing fake miraculous, the time required was risky. On top of that there was the actual threat and bargain. He couldn't let it wait once the plan had begun. The chances his sabotage might be discovered were too great.

Felix let the permutations churn in his mind. They were important but static, familiar. It was the other concern that required his focused attention. The itch was gone, the insanity passed, he sat on a bullet train back to London. The world was comfortable now, but it had happened .

Felix needed to understand why. Until he did, it was a danger; an unexplained weakness. He pulled out his pocket notebook and began a new page.

Is it companionship?

Felix had long ago come to understand he did not relate to others in the traditional sense. Closeness, affection, the allure of the other, or even his own, sex, the little fancies that took others, none of it had ever appealed to him. That pigtailed girl's confession to her cousin? It made his stomach churn.

There were names for people like him. Felix had plucked the ones that fit from a cloud of options and swathed himself in them. It made the world make sense.

Now he tried the same exercise he always had. He imagined the simplest of things. Adrien and that host of friends, talking, laughing, touching. His skin crawled. He imagined that pigtailed girl confessing not to his cousin, but to him. The soft kindness and longing in her voice… unsettled him. He imagined movies, snuggling, all the trappings of that world.

No, these things still held no appeal for him. Felix let out a sigh that was relief, not disappointment.

Is it attraction?

This was less easy to divine. Felix had immersed himself in the study of art as well as science. He could appreciate aesthetic beauty. How then to separate the two? He assumed he would know if it happened. Felix brought into focus the Bourgeois girl, not just her face but all of her. He tried to be civil about the exercise, childish derision wouldn’t ferret out this problem. She had high cheekbones and expressive eyes. She would be an art-class’s dream model. She was fit and proportioned well, he supposed. He had no great preference for type, or even a liking for any. He let the image of her slowly recede as if vanishing into the distance. No, on the whole he could safely say there was nothing particularly-

Felix winced as a pang shot through his heart. What-? The vision in his mind’s eye had almost gone, he pulled it back and the pain eased. What is this? He mentally rotated the image in consternation. As it faced him, it came to life, lips drawing into a smirk. ‘Of course you are.’

Felix’s mouth dropped open at this self-inflicted betrayal.

‘Why are you just standing there?’ She asked. The tone wasn’t right. It wasn’t the one she had used, but it was the one his mind was giving her.

Felix scrubbed his face with his hands, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes to wash away the image. Suddenly self conscious he looked to see if anyone on the train had noticed his lapse. No one even knew he existed. His pencil scratched across the paper.

Is it

He couldn’t even bring himself to write the word. It was with actual fear that Felix conjured up the image again. This was an impossibility. Bracing himself he tried altering the image. He tried to imagine her without-

No! No. Felix shook the image away even before it was complete.

It is not that. Then what?

Felix’s pencil slid back and forth over a centimeter section of the paper, slowly creating a block of graphite gray against the white. It was wasteful, a sign of weakness, and he was too deep inside his own head to pay heed to either. In the end, he cheated.

It may have been a one time thing. I do not need to waste my energy on it unless it becomes a concern again.

Satisfied, Felix ripped the paper free. He folded it up, but couldn’t set fire here. He slipped it into the pocket of his loaned button down shirt. Now what to do about my uncle?

A new page, a fresh mind, Felix let plans drift in and out of his thoughts. In each there were pros and cons. How much did each aspect matter? Did he dare tell his mother about Emilie? It seemed too risky. She had loved her sister even at the expense of herself, and Felix would not have her doing it again.

A light buzz from his pocket signaled an alarm- but this wasn't the right time for it? Felix pulled out his phone and frowned at an incoming text message. There wasn't even a name for the contact, but Felix's memory supplied the name attached to the number.

Chloé : Did you manage to make it to the train without getting lost or hurting yourself again?

It was the only message in the conversation. Still more than half immersed in his other thoughts, Felix gave an answer.

Felix : Yes.

He put his phone away, expecting that to be the end of things. Buzz.

Chloé : You made quite a mess. The maid staff were running around everywhere. Mommy was screaming. I think she fired someone.

Felix reread the message. There wasn't a question to answer this time. He squinted at it, more of his mind slipping over to try and formulate some expected response. After ten solid minutes  he just let it be and dropped his phone on the seat beside him. He had moved on to compiling a list of what was needed for breaking back into his uncle's lair. There were the narrows to consider too. Everything must be compa- Buzz.

Chloé : How did you manage to do all that to yourself? Did you fall in an animal cage at the zoo? You really should be more careful. Next time you are in Paris I can lend you Jean to keep you safe.

Felix could hear her texts. They were intense, too much right now. He stabbed out a reply.

Felix : Woman, I am trying to work!

Felix waited… waited… then sighed in relief. He took a moment to input her name properly into contacts then put his pho- Buzz.

Chloe : Fine! Whatever. I've got plenty of more important things to do anyway than waste time on some English hobo anyway!

Felix could hear that one too, and see the accompanying stomp-off in his mind's eye. It brought a smile to his lips. At least, until a tiny new thought trail asked, she's not really mad, is she? Felix quashed that voice, switched his phone to silent, and returned to work. 

The remainder of his trip passed in relative silence. He had half a dozen possible solutions for how he might use his access to Gabriel's lair to achieve his goal, but all still seemed too risky at the moment. Felix thumbed the ring on his finger, insurance in case he needed Adrien to listen to him in a hurry. He hoped he would never have to use it.

When he got up to de-train, Felix checked his phone again. There were no new messages. He frowned at a tickle behind his ribs… disappointment?

---------------

Back in London, Felix found himself appreciating the mundane. Familiarity made trivial matters comforting. The broken crossing signal at the corner of his street had annoyed him for a year. Now he stood waiting to cross, staring at the inert box where lights should be, and it reminded him he was home .

"Honey, you're home! How was your trip?" His mother's gleeful greeting still grated, but less so. There was a rare authenticity to his smile as he explained a sanitized version of his outing.

His mother was willfully gentle, but observant nonetheless. When Felix turned to continue on to his room she asked in the most uninterested tone possible, "Should I ask why you are moving so carefully on your feet, sweetings?"

Felix stopped. He didn't turn around. He answered honestly, "It would be better if you didn't."

"Alright dearest, I trust you."

She did. He knew it. He strove to be worthy of it in his every action. His mother's happiness was the only reason Felix hadn't turned Gabriel in already. 

"Thank you, mother."

"Do you have a kiss for me?"

Felix turned now. The kiss to his palm was automatic, he blew and his mother caught. They switched roles and he gave her one more smile before heading to his room at last, one more ritual complete.

-------------

Days passed in a blink. Felix's life was full, even without his plans. From his list of plans similarities emerged. He was able to order supplies and begin preparations that would be beneficial no matter which path he took. 

The itch did not return, something else took its place. A hollow just behind his ribs, where he had thought disappointment lay. Felix felt it as he worked through his private boxing routine. He took lessons weekly in a class, but only alone could he push himself like he desired.

Sweat streaked the heavy bag. It lay in fans droplets upon the bare cement floor of his training room, and it coated every exposed inch of his skin. As he circled and struck, bobbed and blocked, Felix relished the utter exhaustion of going beyond what most would consider safe or healthy. It was only when he pushed through all limits that Felix felt at home in his own skin most days.

Now as he stood on legs barely able to support him again, that serenity was disturbed. The sway of the heavy bag as he hammered it transformed into the haughty shift of a debutante's hips. Every light-blur as salt seeped into his eyes resolved itself as a golden head of hair. Felix knew better now than to ignore it. So when the timer rang and he slid down against the training room wall he opened himself to the murky storm of thoughts. Something understood could be conquered.

She wasn't really mad, was she?

That refrain repeated itself on loop. What did it matter? Felix did not know, but he was willing to accept that it did. Wiping, then re-wiping his hands, Felix picked up his phone. Typing out a text took entirely too long. Felix hit send without checking. He would never have sent it if he took time to think, and now it could not be undone.

Felix: Look, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make you angry at me. I should be appreciative of what you did for me, and for not laughing when I am sure it must have been difficult not to. I am in the middle of a very important project right now. It has consumed me for quite some time, the impact it has upon my psyche is compounding over time. That is in fact no excuse for my behavior, I know. Weakness is weakness, and I am ashamed of my own. I do not tell you this hoping to mitigate anything I may have done in the past, I do it so that you might understand things I do in the future. I will remain testy, sharp, and perhaps even seem irrational at times until I see this through. Know that I am aware of this, and actively combating it. I am stronger than these demons and I will see them banished in time.

My appearance at your hotel must have been a shock. It is as much a shock to myself, I assure you. I found myself disconcerted by our last encounter. I know not what my reasoning was exactly yet. I could not abide the idea that my cousin’s impact would overshadow and erase my own. You are an expert in all things superficial, so you must know by now that while we share appearances, we are far from a single being. I do not wish this to change, even in your eyes. If that means I must tolerate more direct interactions, so be it. Perhaps in the fullness of time we may even find something about each other that bears merit, and be able to stand longer periods in each other’s presence.

I must now continue with my studies. I will not have much time, but I will try not to be too abrupt should you choose to contact me in the future. You may assume I will receive your missives in a timely fashion, and can chalk it up to my schedule if I do not reply for a duration. I will be mindful that even a short missive may suffice, if you will also give consideration that that is all I may be able to give. I hope this arrangement will be satisfactory to you, as I think it is well thought out and will benefit us both going forward. Misunderstands are problematic and can only compound an already stressful time. Good Evening to you. -Felix.

Felix scrolled back up through the message and down again. How long would it take her to reply? Did he even want her to? She undoubtedly would find some way to make things more difficult. And why do I find that thought comforting? Felix pushed himself to his feet. His break was long past over. He had to stretch, shower, work on his German, and meditate before bed.

------------

The reply came in the early morning hours before dawn. It consisted of one word:

Chloe : Lighting.

And an attachment. Felix opened it. A selfie? Felix rolled his eyes by the dim glow of his reading light. It was so completely Chloé, frivolous and self absorbed. He dropped his phone back on the desk. The hollow behind his ribs prodded him almost immediately. What now, damn you? Felix picked the phone back up to satisfy this accursed new phenomenon. What do you want? It’s just some self-centered foppish influencer garba- No. The angle was too wide. It had to be taken by another hand, or perhaps a timer?

The idea that thought and planning might have gone into something from Chloé was alien enough to make Felix take a second look. He viewed it not as a thing from the girl he knew, but instead as an image presented by an unknown. Taken at dawn, so this likely just happened. She was on her balcony, a familiar haunt. In her pajamas? Pale yellow silk, because everything is yellow with this girl. No curated outfit? No, everything is curated. She was seated at a morning tea, smiling at the camera. No pouty lips, no wide tooth-laden grin. This is definitely no simple selfie, what is she playing at?

Felix’s mind picked apart details from the color of the china cup she held to the way her legs were crossed at the knee and the fact she was barefoot. Each might have meaning, but which ones did? He pushed himself up out of his covers and sat up with his back against the headboard. It took him far longer to puzzle out a meaning than he wanted to admit. Even when it came to him he rejected it and spent a further five minutes looking for some clue to point in another direction. In the end though, none emerged.

He hoped he could be forgiven for coming at the answer slowly. Who would expect Chloé Bourgeois to put herself in a picture and not frame herself as the message? The answer lay to the right of the image, almost out of frame. The table she sat at was small, with chairs for only two. Chloe sat in one, the other was empty, but pulled part of the way out and turned slightly towards the camera. Almost anywhere it might be an accident, but Chloé was painfully strict about neatness from her staff . A second cup on her tea service reinforced the idea only via connection. A second cup by itself might simply be a spare.

Felix added it all up. An invitation. One made in an extremely roundabout way. One that could easily be disavowed by either party. One that whispered instead of screamed. One that wouldn’t even appear to someone who didn’t take the time to think.

Felix felt a tightness in his cheeks. He found himself smiling. “Who coached you?” He asked the morning air. “I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

A suitable reply was in order. Felix would return the favor, and possibly send her into fits. Too bad I won’t be there to see. He scrolled through dozens of options, rejecting many out of hand as too easy, or too obtuse. It had to be just the right blend of truth and confusion. He found it, and tapped a single keystroke for his reply.

Felix : 💛

[rosethornewrites]

Fic: Pocketful of Starlight

Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Sabine Cheng/Tom Dupain, Master Fu/Marianne Lenoir

Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Tikki, Wayzz, Pollen, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug's Parents, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Master Fu, Alya Césaire, Nino Lahiffe, Chloé Bourgeois, Max Kanté, Lê Chiến Kim, Luka Couffaine, Anarka Couffaine, Juleka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant, Marianne Lenoir, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Lila Rossi, Caline Bustier, Kagami Tsurugi, André Glacier

Tags: Mental Health Issues, Anxiety, Therapy, Trauma, Regret, Lila Rossi salt, what the fuck am i doing?, Moving On, Angst, Feels, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Guilt, Grief, Loss, Implied Relationships, Heroes & Heroines, Introspection

Summary: In the wake of the defeat of Miracle Queen, Marinette has to take time for everyone else. But eventually she has to take time for herself. Written before the release of Felix and Chat Blanc.

Note: The therapy technique is real, and is one I’ve been introduced to as a way of dealing with trauma, triggers, and anxiety. It just seemed like something Fu would teach Marinette, as it relies on the idea of the body’s meridian points, which are used in Chinese medicine.

AO3 link

This is part 2 of the Catch a Falling Star series | Part 1

-------

Marinette didn’t have the luxury of dealing with her feelings right away after Chloé stormed off following the defeat of Miracle Queen. As the new Guardian of the Miraculous, there was a long list of things she must accomplish before then.

On the top of that list was the former Master Fu, who now knew himself as M. Chen. The only person Miraculous Cure didn’t send away was Chat, and so she had him recharge to keep an eye on their former master, while she stowed the Miracle Box in her room and went to the locker with a distraught Wayzz.

Unsurprisingly, the note had all the information she needed: contact information for his beloved Marianne and the address where she could find his belongings. The locker also had items meant to pass to her, including a flash drive of information on the book and other things she would need to know as Guardian. He had been thorough.

Marianne seemed both sad and glad to hear the news—Fu had apparently told her long before that this would be his fate in the end. She agreed to be on the next train to fetch him.

She was relieved Chat knew Marinette had been Multimouse, so when she showed up with a fake ‘note from Ladybug,’ he’d passed responsibility to her civilian self with a smile, telling her he knew Fu would be in good hands.

Marinette ignored the buzzing of her phone as texts came in, and focused on getting M. Chen to his belongings and packed, then over to the train station. Even there, watching the train slowly shrink into the distance as Master Fu was taken to safety, she still didn’t have time.

No, she had text messages from Alya, who was distraught over the memories of what she had been forced to do under the control of Miracle Queen, and was rightly convinced that, with her identity blown, she’d no longer be able to take up the mantle of Rena Rouge. She was able to feign surprise and complimented her on being such a good hero. Her sympathy hasn’t been feigned.

In truth, it felt good to have Alya come to her instead of Lila, who she’d seemed to lose trust in after the expulsion. Things weren’t completely mended between them, and might never be. But she could be a shoulder for Alya to cry on, a sympathetic ear.

Then she had her responsibilities to the kwamis to keep her engaged, something she had put above school. To accomplish this, she had finally confessed her recent near-Akumazations to her parents and told them everything about Lila’s lies and manipulations, and that as there was no proof there was little she could do about them. She told them of going and learning meditative techniques and coping mechanisms on her own. Finally, telling them that the Miracle Queen Akuma, which had hit her friend circle quite hard, had caused her a lot of stress. Marinette had requested, quietly, that she be permitted to take a few mental health days. None of it was a lie.

She wished she had confided in them about it before; they had immediately swept her into a family hug and thanked her for her honesty and trust in them.

“So many people your age bottle it all up,” Maman had said. “But you recognized it and looked for solutions. I’m proud of you, my dear. You’ve become such a mature young woman.”

There had been tears in Papa’s eyes. “We’ll let M. Damocles know we’re keeping you home a few days. Perhaps they will be more willing to investigate this girl if it’s having such an impact on you.”

They’d even asked if she wanted to see a therapist, if she needed more help. She’d thanked them and declined, and their love strengthened her for the tasks she had to complete. Marinette could hardly believe she had been nervous to tell them what was going on. Her parents, who had always supported her.

Her first task involved building a puzzle box large enough to hold the Miracle Box, disguised as a small table for beside her bedroom chaise. That had taken the better part of a day, once she had it sketched and bought the materials. She had treated it as art therapy, even making a home-made wood stain with all natural ingredients to turn the table a deep rose color.

Marinette had time during this project to get to know each of the kwamis individually, taking notes on food preferences in the cases she didn’t know so she could be sure to have some on hand—when enlisting temporary heroes in the future, she planned to include some of the kwami’s preferred recharging food with the miraculous. There had been times recharges were needed but difficult in the heat of battle, and that would make it smoother. Thankfully, dried foods were acceptable to them in a pinch.

While building the puzzle box table she’d sewn the Miracle Box into a throw pillow temporarily, which wound up being a good thing when Chat stopped by midway through the project to ask about Master Fu’s journey. She’d received a call from Marianne when they arrived at their destination, but that was as Ladybug. So she instead let him know what Marinette knew—that he’d been safely escorted to the train, and she’d watched him leave.

When he asked how she had avoided being stung and controlled, she told him she’d seen the wasps and locked herself in the bakery freezer, and Ladybug had let her out when she’d come to enlist her help.

“I was lucky,” she told him.

“I’m glad you stayed safe, Princess. I heard you’ve been absent from school, so I worried.”

“I’m taking a few mental health days, that’s all. Thank you for checking in on me, kitty.”

They chatted a bit more before she went downstairs for leftover pastries for him to enjoy on the rest of patrol, sending him off with the bag of goodies.

Chat had been stopping by regularly since the night she’d cried in his arms, and she had to admit it was nice to have a friendship with him as herself. He’d recently insisted they take a selfie together for her wall, and it had joined a few including Kagami and Luka, as well as some of Alya and Nino that she had put back up.

And then, of course, there was Wayzz. The poor kwami had just lost a holder of over a century, and his loneliness was palpable. Marinette had worked to comfort him as best she could. She knew she could only do so much, but she had put together a comfortable little nest for him and wore the Turtle miraculous along with the Ladybug so he could be out for the transition.

After everything was done, all of her responsibilities, she was finally able to let herself fully deal with everything that had happened, in such quick succession, and all that had changed and been lost.

She finished restuffing and sewing shut the pillow that had once housed the Miracle Box, then laid it out in the middle of her bedroom, seating herself in the relaxed pseudo-lotus position Master Fu had taught her, paying attention to her breathing, heartbeat, the feel of the pillow beneath her, the air around her.

Part of the training she had done with him had included dealing with emotions via meditation, a safer way that would help her avoid Akumazation. Lila’s actions had made it clear she needed help, so after the night Chat had comforted her on the roof, she had confided in the now-former Guardian about the stressors in her life. He had immediately insisted she learn this technique. While it wasn’t always helpful in the moment, if surprises shook her, she had found it was great for helping her process her feelings later so they wouldn’t build up and bury her.

It also helped that both Tikki and Wayzz were there to let her know if she was in danger—and she had shut her room up to impede Akuma for an added sense of security.

The memory of her first meditative session was bittersweet now, as she remembered Master Fu helping her find her happy place, a moment in time wherein she was content and safe on her own. For her, it was the memory of diving off the Eiffel Tower as Ladybug, plummeting by choice with the wind in her face, then snapping the yoyo to swing just above the ground, the experience one of exhilaration and pure happiness.

She went there first, letting herself be in that moment, with the self-confidence it gave her, before going back to one of the things she needed to process.

One of… Really, Fu represented multiple things she had to process. His confidence that she was ready wasn’t one Marinette shared. The number of mistakes she had made, particularly the ones that had led to the loss of Master Fu, haunted her.

She focused again on her breathing, her senses, before tackling the mistakes. Upon discovering Mayura following her, she had failed to consider whether Hawkmoth was also in play, assuming that losing the stolen Peacock holder had been enough. She had approached Master Fu as Ladybug, continuing even after he hinted that she’d made a mistake; perhaps she could have played it off and returned as Marinette.

Marinette let herself feel the shame and guilt associated with that, the feeling of inadequacy and impostor syndrome that plagued her so often.

The next ritual had been ingrained in her over the past few months.

“Even though I made a mistake, I deeply and completely accept myself. Even though I fear I will continue to make mistakes, I deeply and completely accept myself.”

She softly repeated the mantra, going through the emotional freedom tapping sequence she had learned as she allowed herself to feel the emotions swirling through her, seeking the root.

Fear. The root was fear.

“Even though I’m afraid my mistakes will hurt people…”

She continued the process, gently tapping the points Master Fu had led her through until the emotions started to ease, appropriately processed as the result of the trauma that had occurred.

“Even though I know I will make more mistakes…”

She worked toward acceptance of the inevitable. Tikki and Fu had told her mistakes were inevitable; she was only human, and humans weren’t perfect. The important thing, Fu told her, was learning from mistakes through processing them.

“You and Chat Noir fixed my biggest mistake, Marinette. The one that haunted me for well over a century. I learned much from my mistake, as you will with yours.”

Marinette assessed the emotion; it wasn’t totally gone, but it was at a manageable level, something that she could keep from overwhelming her.

The reality was, Master Fu had talked with her about retiring. He had known this would happen to him, that his memories of the Miraculous and his time as Guardian would disappear. He had trusted Marinette as Ladybug to be the next Guardian, to take over the job he had started at such a young age nearly two centuries ago, the job he had been forced into by his own mistake that had only recently been rectified.

Additionally, Hawkmoth could have seen through an attempt to play it off, and with him following her without her knowledge, Marinette’s detransformation could have left her identity known to the enemy, putting her and everyone she loved in grave danger. Perhaps it had been the luck Ladybug was known for, saving her in a situation wherein only one of them could be saved, in effect ensuring the Miracle Box would continue to be protected beyond Fu.

On an intellectual level, Marinette was struck by a collège memory of Mme. Bustier teaching them the hero’s journey style of story building and literary analysis. As much as she loathed the idea of following some sort of fated narrative arc, in class they had discussed how this occasionally translated to the real world. The mentor figure, often a wise elder, would disappear when it was time for the hero to continue alone, when nothing more could be taught.

“Even though I fear I don’t control my own destiny…”

This fear was distinctly of the future. Instead of tapping the meridian points, she shifted to applying a gentle, sustained pressure against each to ease the anxiety that wrapped around her like a cold fog, repeating her mantra until it dissipated in the warmth of hope.

She let herself return to the exhilaration of purposeful freefall from the Tower for a bit, letting that strengthen her as she turned to the related issue…

Fu had not told her she would lose her memories of the Miraculous when it became her turn to retire, that these wonderful memories, even the one that served as her anchor, would be swept away like a sandcastle at high tide. She would forget Chat Noir, forget all the conversations she’d had and would continue up to that point to have with Tikki, forget the very thing that had given her the self-confidence to stand up to Chloé and ultimately put herself out into the world that had once terrified her more fully, to take risks…

Oh, she would miss Tikki when it came time… or maybe she wouldn’t. And that was almost more terrifying.

“Even though I’m afraid of eventually losing my memories…”

The way she had become Multimouse upon losing Tikki to Kwamibuster—the way she had overcome that. Yes, it was another Miraculous that had allowed her to overcome, but she had figured it out.

“Even though I’m afraid I’ll be lost without these memories…”

After a while, three or four rounds of processing and evaluating, the fear had eased enough for her to move on.

She could feel the tears on her cheeks; that had been scary the first few times with Fu, when she’d been afraid the tears would bring Hawkmoth to her, but he had assured her it was part of the process, that it was natural when she allowed herself to experience the emotions fully. She could do this in safety if she used her anchor.

Marinette returned to her anchor memory, allowing herself to swim toward the surface of the meditative state enough to ask Tikki if there was any danger.

“I haven’t sensed an Akuma, Marinette. You can keep going, unless you need a break?”

That brought a smile to her face, and a surge of affection for her empathetic kwami. She knew the memories would be taken, but the emotions wouldn’t leave. She had seen that first-hand when M. Chen had seen Marianne and the memory of loving her had emerged so strongly that he’d stumbled.

“Wayzz?” Marinette couldn’t contain her curiosity.

“Yes, Master?”

“Just Marinette, please.” She knew the kwami chafed a bit at the informality, but she would treat them as her equals, not anything less.

“Ah… of course, Marinette. Did you have a question?”

“You hid behind me when Fu came to, after he named me Guardian. Would he have remembered if he had seen you?”

Wayzz is silent for a bit, and she can almost hear him thinking. “It’s possible. Regardless, he asked me to let him forget, to let him retire fully. At the Temple, the retired would reside among the uninitiated, as tradition.”

Marinette nodded. That made sense, and she would keep it in mind as a possible way to overcome if she wanted to at that point in her life. She had a lifetime to decide.

“Thank you, Wayzz.”

She let herself ease back into full meditation, to her anchor memory, the unbridled joy.

Three other points of emotional turmoil needed resolving. Two of them were highly related, which drew her to them. The fallout from Chloé’s voluntary stint as Miracle Queen was twofold: first, it had robbed Ladybug of all her temporary heroes, as all were now known to Hawkmoth and Mayura. She refused to put them and their families and friends in danger by continuing to approach them; nor would she put the kwami in a position to potentially be captured by a psychopath.

Even with her decision, she wasn’t sure that Hawkmoth wouldn’t monitor them anyway, or do worse. There was the potential of hostage situations. Marinette just hoped this was just her castastrophizing and not something that would happen. She did, however, need to be prepared if it did, and that would mean sharing that concern with Chat Noir. Hopefully he would be able to watch over some of them outside the mask, just as she would.

“Even though I fear the temporary holders could be in danger…”

Alya and Nino, two people she loved dearly despite their flaws, just as they did her; she had meditated extensively on their friendships with Fu after her near-Akumazation during Lila’s stunt at school that had left her temporarily expelled.

Kim, who she knew only casually, but whose exuberance was a mirror of Xuppu’s, a kwami he was suited for but would never hold again.

Max, a boy who had built his own best friend and formed new relationships alongside Markov, and who had fought so nobly to save his mother and friends.

Luka, who could hear the music of her heart and had told her it was beautiful, who had wielded the Snake like a pro. His family—Anarka, Juleka, and Rose, who was basically his sister in law—would be in danger.

And her newest friend, Kagami, for whom she had ultimately given up Adrien—who would also be in danger—and who seemed destined to hold the Dragon, though that was beyond reach now.

The only remedy was impossible in the war Hawkmoth had started: to never again give out Miraculous and cultivate allies. Ultimately, recalcitrance in that direction could hand the man holding Paris hostage victory.

Her allies would have to change. Marinette would need to visit each of them personally as Ladybug to thank them for their service and officially retire them. She couldn’t predict what Hawkmoth might do with the knowledge of their identities, but she could be proactive. They would get the contact information for her yoyo… or perhaps she could commission Max to create panic buttons with GPS, something for the six of them to carry at all times for security, which could alert herself and Chat if they were triggered.

Master Fu had been delighted upon learning that processing her emotions in this way led to reasoned planning.

“Your creativity is ingrained in you, Marinette. You truly are the perfect Ladybug. And you will be the ideal Guardian, as well.”

She returned to her anchor, lingering there a bit longer than before. The last two would be more difficult.

Chloé. Queen Bee. Miracle Queen.

Marinette had held onto the hope that she could help Chloé, both as herself and Ladybug. She could see there was good in the blonde, just buried under behaviors she’d learned and adopted to survive the trauma of abandonment.

She hadn’t seen it—not for the longest time, and certainly not when Chloé had been bullying her.

No, it had come later, in moments. Seeing Chloé grieve giving up Pollen each time she had to return the Bee Miraculous; seeing the flash of pure hurt that had quickly been covered with rage at Audrey choosing Marinette, a stranger, to be with her rather than her own daughter. Moments of joy or simple contentment.

Chloé was a scarred soul who had armored her vulnerability with cruel words and a pretense of superiority. Anything that threatened that superiority, however false it was, became a target, her fear and trauma allowing no less.

But she’d had potential to be better, Marinette had thought. Unlike Lila, whose very countenance showed no indication of anything but cruelty, Chloé could be rehabilitated.

For a while it seemed it could work—Chloé working for the greater good. But it wasn’t enough for her; she’d wanted more, on her timetable.

Or perhaps Marinette had mistaken a lust for power and prestige for a desire for connection to something greater. Maybe it had been her own hubris, feeling she could reach someone so damaged.

Oh, she had hoped. She could just imagine the force for good Chloé could become, if only she could be reached, could be healed.

Marinette wished it were otherwise, but Pollen had tearfully told her of the order of silence, how the holder Pollen had shared her hopes for had turned abusive, had turned a partnership into a slavery.

“Even though I failed to help Chloé…”

This set took longer, more repetition, more tapping, and it felt as though her breath was being sucked away as she processed the grief she felt at a possible future destroyed.

She could only carry so much; those she helped had to want it, had to try, had to trust. She knew how hard that was for Chloé, but she also knew her own limits, the things she could not do. Perhaps, with professional help, the girl could be reached. Marinette didn’t have those tools.

It wasn’t entirely Chloé’s fault, either. Her fears and insecurities and traumas had made her susceptible to the machinations of Hawkmoth’s evil. A man who would Akumatized a toddler would have no qualms tearing open a teenager’s scars and manipulating them for his own personal gain. He’d long ago proved his depravity.

Even now, she didn’t hate Chloé.

Marinette hadn’t paid attention to the news since sending off M. Chen, so she didn’t know what the Paris authorities intended to do regarding the Miracle Queen debacle. But perhaps she could help Chloé Bourgeois in one last way, as Ladybug. She could request not leniency but access to mental health care, could testify that she knew Chloé has potential, if only given the tools to heal.

The pain had faded to an acceptable level, and she jumped off the Eiffel Tower again, sweeping toward the ground with the wind and gravity in her face, the sun kissing her cheeks.

Her last task: Adrien.

She had loved him so intensely and so long, the boy Alya had nicknamed Sunshine. He had been her sun, and she’d been the moth drawn to him. Marinette had spent the last several weeks reflecting on her obsession with him, recognizing it finally for what it was. She had acted only marginally different with him than Chat Noir did with Ladybug.

She had resolved to let him go, after Chat’s visit, for good. She’d been headed there anyway, taking the pictures down and drawing away. Chat’s visit had helped her find the strength.

And then something had shifted. When she was able to return to school, Adrien had apologized for failing to see Lila had targeted her, was hurting her, until it was too late.

“I know doesn’t excuse abandoning you, Marinette, but I hope I can make it up to you.”

What had once been the fire of obsession, doused to coals, smoldered still, a slow warmth that didn’t threaten to consume her anymore.

A few days later, Adrien loudly told Lila to stop touching him, that it made him uncomfortable, in front of Mme. Bustier.

Lila turned on the waterworks, trying to claim it was a way of showing affection in Italy, and Adrien hadn’t given an inch.

“Here in France, it’s sexual harassment,” he’d said. “And I’m tired of asking you to stop.”

“Are you okay, Adrien?” Marinette had asked after Lila stomped back to her seat. “I know it’s not always easy to stand up for yourself.”

“I’m okay.” His smile had warmed her heart, and he’d stepped forward to embrace her. “Thanks for asking, Marinette.”

Then Lila had snarkily asked Mme. Bustier why Marinette wasn’t getting in trouble for sexual harassment. The continued tantrum had earned her detention, during which she was to complete a sexual harassment seminar, “since you clearly don’t know what it is.”

It had been glorious.

The memory brought a smile to her face. She had thought then that perhaps it wasn’t over after all.

But when it came to choosing which flavor combination she, Kagami, and Adrien should get from André, the two of them looking at her so trustingly after having included her in their antics at the hotel and subsequent escape…

Marinette had let go of her love for Adrien.

She had chosen friendship.

She had chosen Kagami’s happiness, and let go the embers in her heart.

They still glowed there, but she made the decision to let them fade.

“Even though I’ve lost my first love…”

She was surprised to discover that the pain she expected to find was only a dull ache, not the intense loss she had expected. As though letting go and crying it out with Chat had allowed her to process the worst of it with the help of a friend.

Music moved through her, a tune she knew she’d heard just recently, but couldn’t place.

Marinette halfway done with the first round of meditative tapping when she felt the touch on the back of her neck. The warning signal she and Tikki had decided upon.

She pulled on her anchor, diving into the sunlight and wind and letting the joy and confidence overtake her, then opened her eyes.

The Akuma had come through the vent, and was gently fluttering, hovering as though waiting for her negativity to return. Hawkmoth had been strangely inactive in the days following Miracle Queen’s defeat.

Marinette let the joy of being Ladybug flow through her, and smiled at the butterfly. Even though she’d only been sitting for perhaps an hour or two, she felt as though she had aged a decade. But she was Ladybug, and Ladybug would prevail.

“I will not be your marionette, Hawkmoth. You will not prey on my traumas to soothe your own.” She stood, moving toward the trapdoor that led to the roof, calm and poised. “Perhaps you should try therapy instead of sadism.”

After opening it, she turned back. She had no idea if Hawkmoth could hear or see her through the Akuma. It hovered, as though staring at her.

“You are not welcome here, little butterfly. Come back when you’re not evil.”

After a pause, the Akuma fluttered up and out of the sunroof, into the blue sky.

“I hope you don’t victimize someone else,” she called after it, and then shut the trapdoor decisively.

Tikki and Wayzz zoomed around her, taking their places on her shoulders as she unmuted her phone, waiting for an Akuma alert.

[forgottenyogurtgods]

Noblesse Oblige

Summary: Robin Hood AU. (Sort of.) After her father is arrested for harboring and aiding the wanted criminal Chat Noir, Marinette must seek him out or lose her father to a crime he did not commit.

Chapitre sept

Always Black

Marinette snuggled under her blankets in an attempt to warm herself up. Autumn was rapidly approaching – she could taste it in the air. It wouldn't be long, now, before the leaves started to turn.

She sighed, her breath warming her hands, and she closed her eyes. There was a pressure in her bladder, but it wasn't persistent enough to make her worry too much on it quite yet.

She still wasn't sure of what to make of the duke, Felix Agreste. His eyes had mostly been on her mother during the entire exchange. He wasn't too bad, she supposed, all things considered. He was much better than Chloé Bourgeois – though, his fiancée did seem to be cut from the same cloth.

But perhaps he was just as bad? 

No, how one treats another upon their first impression – especially those of a lower station – can reveal a great deal about their character. The duke was a decent enough person. He had the potential to be good to the people of Rochers.

She wasn't quite sure if she had dozed off or not, but the sudden knocking on her window woke her from whatever daze she had been in. She lifted her head – it felt much heavier than it normally did – and looked at the moonlight filtering in through the gaps of her shutters.

She carefully shuffled to the window, wondering who could be out there. It didn't even register that her room was on the third floor. There was no way up, not even a nearby tree.

She gently pushed open the shutters and looked out. There was nothing except the blackness of the night and the waning moon bathing the surrounding walls of homes just beyond their yard in silver light.

It was all peaceful, until a voice interrupted it.

“Hello, Princess,” a voice from below her window said - making her jump. She looked down to see Chat Noir clinging to the wall. How was he even doing that? “Meow are you?”

“Chat?” she said, her voice a hiss. “What are you doing here?”

“Can't a knight visit his sweet princess every now and again?”

“Not in the middle of the night, when everyone is sleeping.”

“Well then, when?”

He… kind of had a point. He couldn't very well visit her in the daytime, when he would be easily spotted amongst the crowd.

She gave him a noncommittal shrug and let him continue on.

He pulled him up, perching on her windowsill – not quite in her room to be invading her personal space but not far enough out to fall to the ground below.

“I heard that a certain duke finally returned home from war today.”

“You heard correctly.”

“I also heard that he visited a certain boulangerie.”

She winced. Alya must have told him. While she hadn't been able to relay that information to her friend, there had been plenty of people out and about when that carriage pulled up. She could have easily overheard it during dinner by some gossips.

“Princess,” he said when she didn't deny it, “for your safety, I urge you to stay as far away from him as you possibly can.”

“What?” she said. “Why? He's done nothing wrong.”

“No, but as I am the enemy of the law, and him being a part of the law… Well, if someone were to find out your association with me, things won't end well for you. Being too close to the law can get you burned.”

“I'm hearing more reasons to stay away from you than I am for him.”

Chat winced. He knew she was right.

“He's like all Agreste men who came before him, a danger to everyone around him. I don't want to see you get hurt.”

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[charlietheepicwriter7]

Hey, Little Songbird

Chapter 5 - AO3

The rest of the day passed quietly. Though perhaps not peacefully, as there were still some students who would turn around to glare at him, but the number was far fewer than that morning. Had that small confrontation with Rossi really affected them so badly? Or was it another matter entirely?

It didn’t really matter, so long as it didn’t involve him.

For his first day, he supposed it could have been worse. In history, they were allowed to choose partners for a project—building a timeline of all the important events of the French Revolution—so at least he was only stuck with Dupain-Cheng. He could have been forced to work with someone who’d sabotage the project as ill thought out revenge, like Bourgeois or her servant. Or worse, they would try to make him do all the work and take the credit, as he suspected Rossi would do; though, in case of the later, he would be the one doing the sabotage. At least with Dupain-Cheng, he could focus on the project, though if she was a competent partner remained to be seen.

As the final bell rang, Dupain-Cheng turned to him. “So, when do you want to meet for this?” She tapped a finger on the assignment sheet and Felix barely paid attention as he packed up in school bag. “We should probably get it done as soon as possible. So, today?”

Felix shook his head. “Unfortunately, I need to return to the hotel. My mother arranged for me to meet with a real estate agent so that I may rent an apartment for the remainder of my stay in Paris.” There was no way he could be convinced to stay in the same hotel with Chloe Bourgeois for longer than a week. “I imagine it will take several hours, so we should start tomorrow instead. Although…” He looked closer at the assignment sheet. “This mentions that the teacher is looking for several events mentioned in class. Do you have a copy of your notes I can borrow?”

She nodded. “I can make a photo-copy of them and bring them in tomorrow if you like?”

“That would work; simply make sure they are legible.”

Having finished packing, Felix stood, looming over Dupain-Cheng. She stared up at him, unconcerned. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said.

“Indeed.” Felix turned away from her to walk down the stepped, but someone’s foot was in the way. An accident, or someone trying to trip him? Either way… Felix hid a smirk as walked down as casual as can be, stomping on the offender’s foot as he went.

The offender—a large jock with a mean glare—hissed and pulled his leg away. “You stepped on me!” he accused.

Felix smirked. “My apologies,” he said, not sounding apologetic at all. “I simply didn’t notice your foot sticking out in the middle of the walkway. Do be more careful about that next time; that’s a good way to break a bone.”

He walked away to pure silence, not even the teacher daring to speak up for the student, but the moment he left the room it erupted into noise. He scoffed. Children.

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