#Marinette “The light inside me is dying” Dupain Cheng

[just-another-oikawa-kinnie]

How’d you like the London special? 😇

[artzee-bee]

End of all things [1] | Chat Noir x witch!reader

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug (Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir)

Summary: Y/N had been Chat Noir’s friend and moral support for a long time now. Even though she had magical powers too, she never liked getting involved with akuma attacks, but now, as Hawkmoth’s gotten control of the miraculous of creation, she couldn’t stay indiferent anymore. She had to save her friend and Paris!

Genre: Mostly angst? A little fluff

Warnings: canon typical violence, mentions of death/dying

A/N: This was requested, but as I was writting it, it got very long and I’ve decided to post it in 2 parts. I’m not gonna post the request just now, so as to not spoil the rest of the story but Part 2 will be coming out on friday!!!

Part 2

~~~

Chat was pacing around the room, waiting for you to be done with your potion. You had heard from your parents that there had been a new akuma attack today, but as the news reported, the two parisian heros took care of the problem in no time. For this reason, Chat’s presence at your house felt unusual. Normally he would stop by when he needed to rant, when he was in need of comfort and reassurance but the fight today went well, so what could possibly be bothering him?

“Ok, I’m done” you said, screwing the cap on the little bottle and placing it on your shelf “Wanna talk?” you asked, to which Chat gave you a shy smile

“Yeah, a little”

You made your way to your bed, motioning for him to follow you. You got under your covers and passed him his favorite plushie, a cat to no one’s surprise

“So what’s up? Is it about the fight today?”

“Well no it’s more like a...personal problem?”

“Oh…”

“Claws out” in a rush of light and electricity, the infamous hero vanished before you, transforming into Adrien Agrest

“Well, what is it?” 

Adrien revealed his identity to you months ago. You first met him as Chat, but when you really got to know each other, he decided you needed to know all of him. Well, he needed you to know all of him.

You listened to him rant until way past midnight. Until you were both too tired to stand up straight, so you laid down in your bed, covers up to your necks, muffled stories told in between yawns. You listened carefully, giving him your full attention. He fidgeted with the collar of the stuffed toy and you used your magic to make 2 hot chocolates. Eventually, everything that needed to be said, was said. You offered Adrien to watch a movie, since that always cheered him up, but he refused

“It’s late and I have a photoshoot early in the morning. My makeup team will be angry with my dark circles anyways, better not make it worse” he joked

Adrien transformed back into Chat and you cast a safety spell on him, which you did every time he left your house late at night. He always teased you about being ‘too protective’, but deep down he found it sweet how much you cared and wanted to know that he would get home in one piece.

“Night Chat” you said, wrapping your arms around the hero

“Good night Y/N!”

The next few days went by quietly. You hadn’t run into Adrien at all, but you texted a bit back and forth. Sunday evening however, things took a toll for the worst. You turned on your tv, ready to catch up with your show when you heard Nadja Chamack’s voice doing the news report

“It seems as though Rena Rouge and Chat Noir are struggling to stay on their feet! They have taken shelter under a fallen bus, leaving Ladybug alone to defeat Hawkmoth'' your pulse skyrocketed. As you watched the screen you could see Chat and Rena off to the side, struggling to catch their breath. Rena seemed to be in pain while Chat was trying to help. Ladybug was using her yoyo the best she could in order to protect herself from the supervillain, who was wielding his cane like a sword over her head. The fight was clearly going in Hawkmoth's favour! You grabbed your jacket and ran out the front door and onto the empty streets of Paris, towards the Eiffel Tower, where the fight was taking place. 

People screamed at you from their balconies to go home, warning you about the fight and the danger you were putting your life in but you didn’t care. All you could think about was how they needed you. Chat needed you! Every late night talk and every inside joke shared between you two replaid in your head like a broken record. Behind Chat’s tough mask, his alter ego of hero and protector, was the fragile figure of Adrien Agreste. The young blonde boy who cried during romantic comedies, who liked to have his hair braided and forgot how to speak when someone complimented him. If you didn’t help, the heros would loose and he would most likely die! Alongside Ladybug and Rena who, even though you didn’t know their real identities, were still young girls. As you ran down the street, you heard kids crying inside one of the homes. You ran past but at the last second you heard Nadia’s voice coming from their tv

“Ladybug was akumatized”

You approached the Eiffel tower from the side, where you could see everything going on. In front of the tower, right next to Hawkmoth, stood Marinette Dupain-Cheng, dressed in a tight, dark red suit, darker than Ladybug’s. Black butterflies replaced the dots of the heroine's suit and the purple butterfly mask of Hawkmoth’s control was shining over her face. Marinette was Ladybug! She did, in fact, get akumatized. On the other side, you saw Rena and Chat, struggling to stay up right. They were obviously in a lot of pain and extremely tired, but Hawkmoth was merely mocking them.

“After all this time” Chat spoke up, but his breaths were shallow and rapid “I thought you’d know one thing about us! We don’t give up without a fight. Never will. Especially not against you” and with that, the two ran at each other.

“It doesn’t have to end like this, you know?” he said “We don’t have to fight to death. I wouldn’t want to have that on my conscience. All you have to do is give me your miraculouses willingly. The town will be safe, you will be safe! It’s the most heroic option you’ve got. You won’t be any good to Paris if you are dead”

You knew this was not just another fight between them. This was it. Either the heros won or everything they’ve worked for would be lost. Hawkmoth would win and get his hands on both miraculous and god knows what kind of destruction that would bring not only upon Paris, but the world. You focused all your energy in one spot in the air, right between where Chat and Hawkmoth were supposed to clash but before they could reach each other, you sent a wave of energy that blew both of them apart, like a bomb. Hawkmoth flew back into the Eiffel tower while Chat hit the pavement with a thud. Confused and certainly disturbed, both of them began looking around for an answer as to what happened when, finally, Hawkmoth’s eyes landed on yours.

“Aha, miss Y/L/N. What a spectacular honor to finally meet you!” you didn’t reply, instead you stood tall, maintaining eye contact

“I know a lot about you. Seen a lot. Felt a lot of your emotions. None of them can compare to the powers I’ll have with the two miraculouses. With Ladybug’s earrings and the guardian under my control, I’d say my mission here is almost over’’

“Y/N get back!’’ Chat screamed but you were too involved now to run. This was your fight too.

“It is time you give up Hawkmoth. Paris is not yours, neither are the miraculouses. We will destroy you, no matter what it takes!”

“Listen to yourself, kid! <<Destroy me>>? The most you can do is pull a rabbit out of your hat…” before he could finish his sentence, you snapped your fingers in his direction and instantly, the ground around beneath Hawkmoth and akumatized Marinette, fractured. From within the cracks, many tangled plants came out, encapsulating the 2 villains. You sprinted towards Chat and Rena, ignoring the signs of struggle coming from the prison of weeds.

 Alongside the two superheros, you hid inside a corner coffee shop, which was now empty.

“Y/N, you need to leave!! You are putting yourself in too much danger!” Rena told you, as she collapsed to the ground from exhaustion

“Stop with that already! I am here and I’m not going anywhere!”

“Yes you are!” Chat looked at you. His voice was calm and yet, his eyes were filled with disappointment “You are not a superhero. This is our job!”

“You need help”

“No we don’t!” Chat had never, in all your years of friendship, raised his voice at you, let alone yell “ You need to stay safe! You could die! Hawkmoth doesn’t care about anything if it helps him get what he wants! I am ready to take that risk. Rena is too” you both turned to the red headed hero, only to see her slowly nod “But I can’t allow you to take it”

“You can’t tell me what to do”

“I don’t want you to die!” he screamed again “I love you and I will never forgive myself if you don’t come out of this alive!”

Before you could say anything, you saw Hawkmoth and his minion, through the cafe window, cutting through the last of the plants and escaping your trap. You grabbed Chat’s arm and pulled him to the floor, from where you could not be seen

“We’re in this together now” you said in a stern voice, looking the blonde kid right in his eyes “Whether you like it or not '' this time, he simply nodded.

You stuffed your hands into the pocket of your jacket and pulled out 3 little bottles, containing a mate, green liquid. You had prepared one for each of the heros, now you’d only need two.

“Here, drink this!” You handed each of them one “Regeneration potion. Should put you back on your feet.” as soon as they finished drinking the brew, you could see color coming back to their faces

“Where’s Marinette’s akuma??” 

“Her necklace” replied Rena “It’s a gift from her kwami”

“Got it. You deal with Hawkmoth. I’ll bring Marinette back!”

Chat and Rena exited through the front door, grabbing Hawkmoth’s attention. He called out to Marinette to attack, but before she could take a single step in your direction, you had snuck up behind her. Using a simple invisibility spell, you managed to exit unnoticed behind the two heros. It finally felt like the fight had truly begun. From the corner of your eye you could see Chat and Rena doging Hawkmoth’s attacks while you, were doing your best to get your hands on the stupid necklace! Even though she couldn’t see you, Marinette seemed to almost always know what your next move was. She would expertly block all your attack and would keep you an arm’s length away at all times. Finally, you had enough and in one swift motion, you pinned her back to your chest, ripping the necklace away. A wave of black and purple took over the both of you and when it vanished, all you were left with was a half unconscious Marinette in your arms. You dropped her to the ground slowly as she was coming back to her senses. You wanted to talk to her but your thoughts were driven away as you heard Chat scream bloody murder.

On the opposite side of the platza, you saw Hawkmoth rip Chat’s ring off his finger, forcing him to detransform. The exhausted figure of Adrien Agreste fell to the ground with a thud. Hawkmoth had, indeed, gotten his hand on both the miraculouses.

[paintball169]

Lazarus

Chapter 2 - Dead

(Paint : Wtf happened to the dialogues, I already wrote them.

Luna : Sorry. I saw the dialogues. I wanted to fix a mistake in the first chapter, but these were deleted instead.)

“Give these kids emergency first aid, till the actual medics arrive! Now!” Talia ordered, tossing the sack containing the miraculi to her most trusted men. After all, if the rogue user got them, the world would end.

She looked to see how the Ladybug user was doing, only to see her getting stabbed. She let out a cold scream. This was the last of the miraculii users. Talia saw the Ladybug user detransform and fight even without any weapons. But one hit from the rogue sent her flying.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I should have known. Quite the fighter weren't you?” The rogue smiled sadistically.

Talia ran towards the user, and saw Miralia, her own daughter.

She smiled even when she was dying, “Mother.”

“You came,” She rasped out.

Talia nodded, her voice stuck in her throat.

“Take care of the rogue, Hawk Moth for me, and finish my job, Mother.” She said as the light died in her eyes. Talia let out a wrenched sob.

“You Bastard.” She said, emotionless, as she turned to Hawkmoth.

“YOU BASTARD!” She screamed as she lunged towards him with her sword. What happened next was to be blamed on the Pit’s anger. The world shimmered green as she slashed at him. The asshole swerved to avoid the sharp weapon.

“Talia, what is the meaning of this?” he asked her. Talia didn’t know how he knew her name, but ally or not, he was fucking dead.

“You-” She started as she dodged a hit from him. She sent a kick towards him in return.

“You killed her!” She shouted as she threw another punch.

“And what does it matter?” He almost dodged a kick from her. Almost. A crack was heard. She probably broke one of his ribs, but this monster deserved that. Not only for killing her daughter, but also heavily injuring the other teenagers.

“She was-” she started, but her voice died down as she took a hard hit from him. A really hard one.

“She was my daughter.” She said quietly.

“My only daughter.”

She could see the ‘Oh, shit’ look on the bastard's face as she began throwing a barrage of punches at him.

-

She felt hands on her as she was pulled back. She looked around and saw her comrades' mouths moving, and Hawk Moth, detransformed to Gabriel Agreste, was lying bloody on the ground.

Soon, the police came and took him away.

-

A few minutes later, they were sitting in the league’s base. A towel was wrapped around Talia and she was drinking hot tea.

“You went too far today, mistress.” Her second in command told her calmly.

“I know.” She said, her face blank.

“Your daughter is dead, that’s the reason isn’t it?” He questioned. She clenched her hands around the cup of steaming tea she was drinking.

“It is.” She agreed.

“We can still treat her with the Pit’s waters, you know that don’t you?” He asked, as if it was the most obvious answer. Talia’s head snapped up with wide eyes.

“Judging by your reaction, you forgot.” He commented.

“I did.” She said in return, honestly. The shock had temporarily nullified her ability to lie.

“What’s the situation with the other kids?” She asked a while later. That question was eating her up from the inside.

“They’re in surgery.” He said carefully.

“Oh.” That was the only thing she could say. What was she supposed to say to a bunch of teanagers fighting for a whole city?

“They should be stable after the surgery.” He tried to ease her worries.

“That’s good.” She sighed, relieved.

“When do we go back to Nanda Parbat?” He asked her.

Talia snapped out of her thoughts and said immediately, “Now, we need to heal Miralia.”

“Of course.” He answered, bowed and left the room.

The lazarus pit would surely heal Talia’s daughter, But she had no idea how much the pit would harm them both.

Author’s notes:

Yay! I haven't updated it in a long time, But now it’s here! I’ll try to get the next chap out by next week!

Also I need your opinion on this fic reader, Adrien Salt.

Yay or Nay?

(Note to Luna : Please check my grammar. I know it’s extra bad this chapter.

Luna : It is, Paint. Where would you be without me?

Paint : Screaming in the void. AKA I wouldn’t exist.)

Bye Kittens!!!

Taglist :

@achaoticmess1 @starling218 @literaryhiraeth @couffeeine @abrx2002 @skitarii-alpha-c6-555 @craftgremlin

[justloatheyoulately]

MLB Fic

This is my first fic that I’ve written in like 10 years, so I would be so happy have some feedback! I hope you like it!

Allergy

Summary: Marinette is ready to reveal her feelings for Chat Noir over a moonlight picnic until he stops breathing...

Fluff and angst, hurt/comfort

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39868644 

“You can’t die on me now, Kitty.” Marinette sobbed as she jumped from building to building, racing towards the hospital. Her kitty’s arms latched around her neck as she cradled him. “Hold me tighter. I’ve got you.”

“M.. my la...dy” He strained.

“Shhhh,” She whispered in between huffs after each jump. “I’m going to fix this.” Landing right in front of the hospital, she raced in. The automatic doors barely opened enough as she squeezed them through. “Please! He’s going into anaphylactic shock!”

The dark-haired man at the front desk dialed the phone, while a blonde woman in a white jacket supplied a gurney in an instant. “I used an EPI pen on him.” She told the nurse along with any information she knew. Unfortunately, for identity reasons she didn’t know much. She didn’t even know what he was allergic to.

Marinette placed Cat Noir on the stretcher as quickly and carefully as she could. Keeping their entwined hands close to her chest as she followed the nurse wherever she was taking him.

“Kitty, please,” She begged, tears falling from her eyes. “I can’t lose you.” She thought she saw a small smile on the corner of his lips before head rolled back into its rest. She felt his weak arm go limp.

“NO!” She reached out hoping to touch his face. Hold him, but they had reached the room and he was being taken inside.

“Oxygen.. He needs Oxygen.” She could hear the doctor commanding the room. Another nurse was explaining to her why she couldn't stay. That even heroes needed to rely on others sometimes. Honestly, Marinette barely heard anything. The nurse took her hand and led her away from the door as it shut firmly in front of her. Shades drawn. Only sounds of the doctor’s instructions, medical equipment and Cat Noir in pain.

Marinette wouldn’t budge no matter how hard the nurse tried to lead her to the waiting room. Eventually she gave up and let Paris’ hero huddle up on the wall facing the room, knees to her chest, waiting and listening for her partner.

“The scissors aren’t working…We can’t cut away the suit… Administer CPR” She heard from the room.

Her heart stopped. Incorrect. Her heart continued to beat and her kitty’s had stopped.

This was it. A before and after. She couldn’t do this without her Kitty. He always made her day brighter. He was kind and funny and generous and so supportive. He’s the other half of her heart. He was everything she could ever want and now…

GOD, how could she have been so stupid. They were just playing. Having a bit of banter and now THIS. She was lost. This is why she was the serious one. This is why if Cat Noir makes it, she’s never having fun again. Oh my god.. If… no, She thought. I can’t think that way.

Her thoughts traced back to the moments before this all happened.

“What’s that, Bugaboo?” Cat Noir cooed, reaching his claws for her surprise.

“Hold your tail, Kitty. Patrol first,” she said, sitting down next to him on the ledge. Their legs swinging, thighs just grazing each other. Marinette felt light, her heart beating faster than she’d like to admit.

Cat Noir grabbed hold of his leather appendage and stuck out his bottom lip. “Purrrty please, M’Lady. I’m starving!”

Marinette had rolled her eyes and tried to hide her smile. “So impatient.”

“What is your basket hiding? Please tell me you stopped at the Dupain-Cheng Bakery!”

“Maybe… for desert.” She smiled, turning her body to set up the picnic behind him. She had brought Italian soda, a charcuterie board, macarons and this entree from the new Thai restaurant.

“My Lady, all this food… we aren’t going on Patrol tonight, are we?”

“So, maybe I have other plans…stop looking at me like that, Kitty. Can we please have a nice picnic on the roof… we both need a break.” Marinette had bit her lip. Hopefully, he hadn’t figured her out. Hell, she had just realized that maybe she did want their partnership to be something more.

“I’d never say no to a present from you, Bugaboo. This is amazing.” He leaned forward a bit, then looked as if he thought better and sat down on the gingham blanket.

Marinette could feel a buzz between them. An electric energy she hoped he still felt too as they joked and ate on the rooftop.

“All this food has got me feline pretty good.” Cat Noir threw a grape and caught it in his mouth.

“C’mon Kitty, all this cheese and not one of your jokes is gouda.”

She couldn’t stop giggling, thinking for a moment that this was right. Exactly as it should be. It was so easy to be with her Kitty. With Adrien, she was so nervous, she didn’t really know him that well. But her Kitty… She didn’t even know his real name, but she could spend a lifetime laughing with him.

‘What is this?” He leaned toward the entrée.

“Oh! Try some!” She handed him half of the sandwich and they both took a bite.

“It’s delicious! I got this from that new restaurant that opened! Apparently it’s this new food made from chicken feathers… crazy, right?”

Cat Noir quickly dropped his sandwich. His eyes wide.

“What’s wrong?”

There was no time for him to explain. His breathing strained and his face began to swell.

Marinette restrained herself from screaming for help for her Kitty. She was Ladybug. She had to do something! “Miraculous Ladybug!” A red and black EPI pen fell to her lap.

Marinette’s trance was broken with one word. “Ladybug.” The doctor said, walking closer and closer to her. Her expression is unreadable.

Marinette’s spiraling thoughts echoed into a blank.

“He’s going to be alright.”

Suddenly, it felt like she couldn’t take a big enough breath. Hot tears streamed down her face. All the emotion she had tucked inside tumbled out. He’s alright. He’s okay. I won’t lose him.

“Please can I see him.” She begged. The doctor nodded and led her into the small room where Cat Noir was resting.

Marinette rushed over, catching his hand and pulling it into her. “I’m so sorry Kitty. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Bugaboo,” He said, opening his eyes. “You couldn’t have known.” He brushed his forehead to hers.

“I’m just so sorry… I wanted to give you the perfect night. Have fun like we always do, tell you my feelings but then you stopped breathing and I had to use the Miraculous Ladybug to get an EPI pen and rush you to the hospital and… I’m babbling. I’m just so glad you’re okay, Kitty.” She squeezed his hand tighter and gave a slight smile.

“Your feelings…?” Crap. He heard that part.

“Kitty, I think I’ve fallen in love with you…” She couldn’t keep it in any longer even if this might be the worst possible time to confess.

Cat Noir’s eyes grew wider and he didn’t say anything for what felt like minutes but was probably like 5 seconds.

“Finally” He grinned, nuzzling his head closer to Marinette's. His breathing was still a bit shallow but more pink was coming to his cheeks.

Marinette pushed him away slightly. “You scared me,” she laughed.

Cat Noir’s hand caressed her cheek, lightly brushing away the tears rolling down her cheek. “You know I’ve always cared for you, Ladybug.” She felt the press of his soft lips against her forehead.

“You missed” Marinette joked, leaning forward to kiss his perfect lips. His strong arms wrapped around her as her fingers ran through his blonde curls. She may or may not have scratched him behind the ear for good measure as they deepened the kiss.

Marinette pulled away after a few moments, not wanting to send the doctor running from her Kitty’s lack of oxygen. She had a million more kisses reay for him, anyways when he was feeling better.

If anyone opened the door, they would see Cat Noir laid in white sheets staring into the eyes of Ladybug by his bedside.

“You know,” Marinette started, “Why didn’t you just tell me you're allergic to peanut oil? There are so many people allergic to peanuts, it wouldn’t have compromised your identity.”

“I’m not… I’m allergic to feathers.’ He fidgeted, searching into his Lady’s eyes.

“Feathers?? How am I supposed to keep you safe? Why didn’t you say anything??”

“Uhh..”

“And what kind of allergy is feathers, it’s so random, I only know one other person…” Marinette paused. Oh, crap. She was in love with Cat Noir who was also her old crush.

“You're Adrien Agreste.” She smirked.

“I can’t be…” Cat noir stammered, sitting up straighter in his bed. “Adrien doesn’t have any allergies.”

“Yes, he does!” Marinette had him. Literally and figuratively. “I know because when I made… made a run to the shop, I bought a magazine with an article all about Adrien.”

Adrien’s eyes narrowed before smiling. “Why are you reading articles about me?”

“Oh it’s you, I’m so happy!” She bounded toward him and hugged him tight. “I’m so glad you’re safe and you’re… well… you!” His arms wrapped around her waist.

“I’ve waited so long for you to say that to me, Marinette. I love you so much.”

Her kitty saying I love you was nothing new. Her growing feelings, her new realization that the boy she had hoped was the boy who was also always there, all of it was so wonderful. Her lips found his and they shared another soft, meaningful kiss.

“Wait” she broke the kiss suddenly. Her hands pressed firmly on his chest. “You called me…”

He smiled, “I was wondering when you’d realize that.” He planted a kiss on her forehead and smirked.

“But…”

“They’ve never printed my allergy in a magazine and I remember when you made me that hat,” he joked.

Marinette rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed at her slip. But really she was so, so happy. Her Kitty was okay! Her Kitty was in love with her, too! She was so excited for the next chapter of their lives.

[pl-panda]

The vines that bind us - Chapter 9

Chapter 1 || Previous || Next

------

She opened the window and picked a pencil. With deadly precision she tossed it. The wooden tool sailed through the air until it hit the binoculars and broke one side of them. She huffed and closed the window before pulling the curtains closed. How rude.

Jason cursed under his breath. Any other day he would probably avoid the projectile, but it caught him completely by surprise. By all accounts, it was physically impossible to use a pencil with such precision and force to destroy military-grade night-vision binoculars. At least the memory card was safe so he could give it to replacement later on for analysis.

Still in bad mood after having his gear ruined, Jason zipped to Dupain-Cheng’s window and gave a light knock. No response. Another knock. Still no response. Finally, after the third knock, the blinders opened and the window itself followed, revealing a very angry girl. Jason finally had a chance to get a better look at her. She did, in fact, have blue hair and now that he’d seen it close, he would bet half his paycheque that it was somehow a natural color. The purple too. She must have had her hair dyed for the first day of work. Her eyes were another part that he memorized. They were blue and iridescent green at the same time, giving a slight unnatural aura. Or maybe it was just that she looked ready to murder him.

“Are you done staring?” She asked, clearly annoyed. “You are not my type and much too old. And the stalker routine is plain creepy. Get lost old guy.”

She was about to close the window when he started speaking.

“I actually came to apologize. I did not ‘stalk’ you, thank you very much. I was just checking on you, miss. You do realize that you single-handedly kicked Riddler’s ass and got quite a bit of publicity.”

“Suuure. You do that for every brave citizen?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and a small grin. “You would be really short-staffed. I hope that overgrown furry does pay you for the overtime.” Any traces of amusement disappeared from her face. “Now get lost before I sic Chloe on you. She recently started dating Damian Wayne and the two seem to bond over ruining people. I’m sure you would make a decent target.” Without further ado, Mari closed the window and put the blinders back in place, completely cutting him off. 

Jason didn’t protest. He was too busy processing the fact that Demon Spawn apparently started dating someone. Oh, he would have so much fun teasing the little menace. 

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

When the motorbike entered the Batcave, Jason expected to meet perhaps the Replacement or Demon Spawn. He definitely did not expect to see the entire family sans B and Alfred. 

“Do you want to perhaps explain why dad received an angry call about ‘some idiot in red bucket’ stalking her through the window?” Barbara asked. frowning deeply. 

“Or at least why were you stalking her?” Dick added.

“Or where you hid my coffee?” Tim joined.

“Timothy!” Several of them shouted.

“What? It’s important!”

“Back to the matter at hand.” Dick turned back to Jason. “What exactly were you thinking?!” He screamed.

“Geez. You thought about joining some opera?”

“Tt. Answer the question.” Damian interrupted.

“That reminds me. Did you know Demon Spawn got himself a girlfriend?” Jason asked, trying to deflect. He really did not like how they jumped at him.

“Not… important.” Cass stared daggers at him. “Talk.”

“Fine!” he threw hands in the air. “I followed a hunch. And I was right. She is a meta!” He procured his destroyed binoculars. “There is no human way to destroy military-grade equipment like that with just a pencil.”

Tim picked it up and quickly tossed it onto the table nearby. A blue light scanned the products and the bat-computer started to display the scan plus introductory analysis.

“Well, he is right. There is no way that a simple pencil could destroy it.” He pressed some buttons and recording from the last seconds of the item’s life played. They could clearly see her throw a pencil at it and then everything went black. “Or I was wrong.” Tim started to do a series of calculations. 

“Bucket-head might be onto something. With her muscle mass, it would be impossible to throw a pen with enough force. Actually, it’s almost impossible to make that throw. Not with human muscle density…”

Barbara rolled over to him and the two started to work side by side. “But that’s also not probable since the body is not…” 

“She would probably…” 

“Plant fibers have a similar structure, but she would…” 

“Maybe… Unless she is not strong and instead…”

“Um… earth to nerd corner. Can you explain?”

“Jason might have hit the bullseye.” Tim grinned and several groans could’ve been heard. “She is definitely a meta. It still doesn’t explain why you stalked her.”

“Is that not reason enough?” Red Hood asked. He immediately regretted it when Duke stared daggers at him. 

“You do realize, that metahumans are not as rare as it was believed at the beginning?” Tim asked.

“What?”

“Roughly ten percent of humans are born with dormant meta-gene and the number is increasing each year. And about one in twenty people have an active meta-gene. They just don’t go around wrecking everything or don a cape and run around beating people.” Tim spoke in a matter-of-factly tone. 

“What?”

“Yeah. Eidetic memory, or perfect recall for our uneducated bucket-head,” Tim snickered while Jason grumbled.

“I hate that name.”

“I think it will stay for a while.” Stephanie was smiling. “She does have a way with nicknames. First an overgrown furry, then red Buckethead…” She was on the verge of laughing. “I wonder what she does next?”

“As I was saying,” Tim regained the control of the conversation, “eidetic memory is actually one of the earliest forms of registered active meta-ability.”

“What?”

“The gene tends to activate under extreme duress, but, as we learned, the definition of extreme duress varies from person to person.”

“So what? A guy afraid of failing an exam might accidentally unlock super memory?” Jason dismissed it.

“More like if someone lived in years under pressure and is about to crack.” Dick pointed. “I mean there was even this large awareness campaign about four years ago led by Beast Boy. Where were you?”

“Dead.” Jason deadpanned. “I was dead.”

“Oh… I guess you didn’t see Garfield’s movies then?” Steph asked, being the first to break through the heavy atmosphere.

“She is still a meta.” Jason tried to fight, but his arguments were wavering. 

“Which changes nothing. You will go to her tomorrow and apologize.” Tim said categorically. 

“Ugh! Fine. But I got one more interesting fact: Demon Spawn got himself a girlfriend.” He grinned and turned to Damian. Everyone followed his gaze.

“Tt. I have no idea what you are talking about Todd.” 

“That blonde! Charlie saw you two sitting and eating pastries together! She is the new intern!” Dick had a big fat smile on his face and his eyes were almost glittering. “Who is she? How did you two meet?”

“Blonde?” Tim suddenly paled considerably. “There is only one blonde intern. Please tell me you aren’t dating Chloe Bourgeoise of all people!” He squeaked.

Damian wanted to deny it further, but seeing the Replacement’s reaction he changed his mind. The grin that formed on his face was borderline malicious before turning back to the emotionless mask he wore every day. “Yes. She finally admitted that I was not at fault for the cake incident. She is actually tolerable now.” 

“What cake incident?” Steph asked, smelling some juicy story about her ex. That kind of story was the best.

“Tt. When we were at this gala in Paris two years ago, Replacement attacked me and we fell into the birthday cake.”

“It doesn’t sound…” Dick started, but Damian interrupted him.

“The cake had six levels and was about as tall as I am now. Mayor Bourgeoise was not happy that we ruined his precious princess’s birthday.”

“So that’s why we no longer go to Paris?”

“Tt. No. That’s because Jason almost trashed the Louvre.” 

“Right…” Tim mumbled while his eyes closed. In just a moment, he was snoring away on the chair.

“Damn. I thought it would work faster.” Barbara complained while peeling the near-invisible sticker away from his neck. 

-----

Thursday actually passed without any trouble for Marinette. The class finally got it through their collective single brain cell that she had the power to end their trip with two words. She was slowly getting the grip on the work and after some talk with Penny, where the woman practically forced Mari to listen to some additional advice. She was actually offended that the girl didn’t call her immediately. 

She did have to practically drag her barely conscious boss to a meeting in the afternoon, but he didn’t put up much of a fight after she gave him a Tikki Special Coffee. The small goddess giggled inside her pocket the entire time as the boy begged on his knees.

After work, she and Chloe went to the Gotham Zoological Garden. At first, she wanted to go to the Botanic Garden first, but their class was supposed to visit there after work, so the girls went to Zoo instead. Gotham had a much broader collection of birds than Paris did. And the less chance of running into their classmates, the better.

“...He did what?” Chloe asked louder than necessary, but nobody paid the two girls in smart outfits any attention.

“Yeah. But don’t worry. I gave him a piece of my mind.” Mari dismissed it.

“It’s still creepy.”

“I know. That’s why I sicced the police at him.”

“That’s my girl!” 

“Well, I threatened to send you and Damian after him, but I decided it would be too cruel.” She smiled. “Besides, I’ve seen that Red Buckethead is trending already.” She pulled out her phone and showed a post there was a picture of Red Hood next to a reversed red bucket.

FashionMari @QueenGoldie Someone in a red bucket was stalking me. I was torn between calling the police and criticizing their fashion choice. In the end, I did both. 

“Only you Goldie. Only you…”

--------

Friday was press conference day. For once, Mari woke up earlier and got dressed in record time. Chloe watched from the side-lines as the girl moved around like a tornado, preparing everything and triple-checking all arrangements. She changed outfits four times before finally the blonde grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to sit down. 

“Goldie! You know I love you and I would kill for you,” She started, “but if you don’t calm down I will tie you up and leave you here for the day.”

“But…!” Bluenette tried to protest, but Chloe cut her off.

“No buts. We are only sixteen. I for one came here to learn a bit and maybe meet someone. You are supposed to be learning. Nobody said anything about getting a full-time job.”

“The deal…”

“So what if they fire you?” Chloe raised her hands over her head. “Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! You have Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeoise fighting over who will get you while Jagged Stone is willing to fly over half the world just to give your references in person. You run a very successful flower shop and even more successful boutique.”

“But…” She tried to muster a weak protest, but Chloe’s angry gaze made her wither. 

“I will not let you run yourself dry!” The blonde stated firmly. “So either you take a step back and breathe or I will call your uncle.”

“Not uncle Jagged! he already banned me from drinking coffee!”

“So you will behave?” Chloe asked with a smirk. 

“Fiiiinneee!” Mari couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Queenie. I needed this. I’m glad I have you as my friend. And sister.” 

“Well of course you needed me! Everyone needs me!” She huffed before her expression became more gentle and she pulled Mari into a hug. 

Downstairs the class was waiting for them. Probably they finally gathered the courage to confront her about Alya’s fate. The girl shouldn’t have lied while filing for promotion. Mari and Chloe stormed past them not even sparing them a glance. Outside, Adrien was already waiting inside the limousine with Gerard at the driver’s seat. 

“I’m glad your driver is finally here.”

“Me too!” The blond boy was practically beaming. “I’m free from Lila’s clutches.”

“Could you drop us at… No. 2 Twine Street?” Mari asked the gorilla, who only grunted in response.

“Um… We should be going to Wayne Tower.”

“Nope.” Mari popped the ‘p’. “You,” she pointed at Adrien, “are an intern in PR. I asked for you to be present at the press conference to help move stuff around and so on.” 

“And me?” Chloe asked. “If you expect me to…” 

“You’re there to support your boyfriend. He was the one that practically demanded that I get you there. He hates publicity.”

“Oh… Good then. Let’s go.”

“Boyfriend?” Adrien asked curiously. “You mean Wayne?”

“Yeah. Apparently Chloe found herself a partner in scheming.”

“I bet that their dates are filled with planning to take over the world.”

“We could’ve taken the world over by lunch if we wanted.” Chloe looked almost offended. “The question is what way would be the most suitable one.” 

All three of them broke into laughter as the car rode through the city of crime.

----

About fifteen minutes before the press conference was scheduled to start, Tim Drake was still not there. None of the Waynes were there in fact. She sent about fifteen angry messages to Mr. Drake and he was still not here, which only fueled her stress and anger. 

The press had no idea so far and they were eagerly awaiting whatever news the company wanted to present. She bit her lower lips. Chloe was on the phone, trying to reach her boyfriend.

“If that idiot doesn’t get here in the next ten minutes, I’m going to consider stabbing him.” 

“Damian?!” Chloe shouted into her phone. 

“Tt. What do you want?”

“First of all, that’s not how you talk to your girlfriend. Second of all, where in the world is your excuse of a brother?! Mari is an inch from going ballistic!”

“Tt. He’s asleep.” Damian answered in an impassionate tone.

Mari leaped over and wrestled the phone from Chloe. “You go to him right this moment or I swear to all that’s holy and…”

“I get it.” He interrupted her, showing signs of irritation. There were some static and the camera blurred for a moment from the fast motion. When it returned, she saw barely awake Tim Drake wearing blue onesies. 

“wah…”

“Get yourself cleaned up and into a suit in the next three minutes!” She shouted. God bless the soundproof backstage.

“Um… But I will never make…”

“I’m certain you have a great webcam somewhere in this big mansion of yours. Set it in the library and call me in the next few minutes. I so hope you were not supposed to be the model because gods help me…” She took a look at his terrified face. “Of course you were…” 

“In my defense…”

“Shut up. Get going!” She hanged up and turned to Adrien and Chloe, who were looking at her with a mixture of fear and awe. “What are you waiting for?!” She tossed a package to the boy. “You get dressed in the new product.” She pushed him outside and into the janitor’s closet on the other side. “And you’re coming with me!” She dragged Chloe toward the main room. The blonde was sent to the technics room to get the feed started while Mari stepped on the scene. The chatter died quickly and all reporters turned to her.

“Hi. Please forgive us for the slight delay. We have minor technical difficulties that are being solved as we speak. In the meantime, you are free to take the seats. The conference is about to start.” 

Behind her, a screen slowly descended. She saw Adrien leaning from the doors leading backstage and smiling at her. 

“Without further ado, I present you Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises.”

The image of the teen with black hair appeared on the screen and he waved everyone. He was holding a red cup of coffee with black polka dots, the same Tikki summoned for him the first time. 

Satisfied with herself, Marinette allowed herself a moment of rest. The conference was going well and after a minute of silence for the dead in the recent attack, the presentation began. Adrien was a natural model so it all went great. Wayne Tech in co-operation with Gabriel brand was introducing a new line of ‘smart’ fabric that could withstand medium stress and was almost impossible to dirty or stain. She had to admit it was quite amazing. Apparently, it was partially how Mr. Agreste got her class internship. Granted, Adrien was not supposed to be the model but you don’t look a gifted horse in the mouth. 

Everything was going great until the doors to the room were kicked open and several goons barged in, followed by none other than Two-face. Everyone immediately fell onto the floor. Mari couldn’t help but sigh exasperatedly. Why did it have to go wrong at every turn?

Ignoring the terrified stares, she stormed toward the intruders. “Excuse me, sir?” She asked with an emotionless face.

“What?” The man looked clearly irritated.

“I don’t see your name on the guest list. Did you remember to call in advance?”

“Of course not! Do I look like…” The criminal was clearly angry. 

“Then I apologize, but I must ask you to leave now.” 

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Two-face pulled his gun.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you are not on on the list, I can’t let you stay.” She said in an emotionless voice. Mari was honestly too tired to care at this point. Maybe at least the evening would be better.

“I’m not sure you get the situation, miss. I’m not here for the interviews. Everyone pull out your wallets and drop them in the sacks!” He shouted while his men started to walk around.

“Hm… That won’t do.” She said. After muttering something under her breath, Mari tossed her clipboard. The spinning board hit one of the mooks in the head, knocking him cold, before bouncing and hitting the next one. After that, it returned to her hand. 

That was enough for Two-Face. He aimed his gun at her, but she moved faster than he anticipated. Within seconds, she grabbed his wrist and pushed it up so he was aiming at the ceiling. She squeezed it hard enough to make him drop the gun right into her other waiting hand. The girl let go of his wrist and disassembled the gun into pieces in what could become record time. 

Now irritated, Mari grabbed Two-face by his tie and pulled him down until they were at the same eye-level. 

“I was trying to do it peacefully sir. I am now ordering you to leave. Otherwise, I will actually have to hurt you.” She leaned closer until she was able to whisper. “And don’t make mistakes, Dent. I can and will hurt you.” For a moment her eyes lost the blue coloring and became entirely iridescent green, glowing slightly. 

Harvey Dent rarely felt fear. His life was more often than not guided by the toss of a coin. Now though, he stared in the eyes of Poison Ivy, except ten times scarier. He was already afraid of that woman after she almost fed him to her ‘precious’.

“I… I am deeply sorry madame.” He spoke carefully. “Men! We are moving out. Leave the bags!” And with that, they were all gone. 

Most of the reporters gave Mari big applause. There was only one angry old man that stared daggers at the girl. 

“You let that scum go away!” He shouted. “He was a criminal.”

“Sir. You are free to go after him if that’s your wish. I’m at work and my job description never included chasing after criminals.”

“But… But…” 

“Anyway, we were in the middle of the press conference if I’m not mistaken.”

-------

NEXT

[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

[peterxwade24]

Safety Found in Red Sleeves

Who’s ready for chapter 1?!?! Woot Woot!

For this chapter, which is only 2008 words, I’ve decided to do multiple points of view (which is indicated by -*-*-*), and go between Paris and Gotham. I hope everyone enjoys this thrilling installment in Safety Found in Red Sleeves.

Chapter 1

Thana, because she would almost always refer to herself as Thana because that is the name her mother gave her and the name her brother knew to be her’s, looked around the overly pink bedroom her new parents had furnished for her. She knew her new parents had always wanted a little girl of their own, a little girl who was of their own blood. Thana looked down at the pink dress in her hands, she was to attend a function with Chloé and her parents this evening and she was to dress up.

Thana looked at her reflection in the mirror, her hair was in a pixie cut with the tips dyed black. She frowned at her reflection, she didn’t look like Thana Todd anymore. She looked like Marinette Dupain-Cheng, with her hair fading back to her normal dark red hair and her face gaining weight in ways she hadn’t expected. Thana pressed her hand against the mirror, just to see if it was real or an illusion.

She turned around and shook her head. She took a calming breath and smiled to herself. “You can do this. Just, think about what Jay-Jay would say. He’d be so proud of you.” Thana nodded and started to change out of her everyday clothes into the pink dress. She needed to get ready faster.

Thana sat at the vanity in her room, pulling out the makeup her new mom had gotten her. She added light pink eyeshadow to her eyelids before putting shimmery white eyeshadow in the inner corners of her eyes. She applied a light amount of eyeliner before swiping mascara onto her lashes. She applied a light pink gloss to her lips and smiled. If Jay-Jay saw her, he’d say she looked pretty.

Thana got up and grabbed a small white clutch, into which she put her wallet and the light pink gloss, before looking in the mirror again. She glanced into her hair, where Plagg tended to hide. “Plagg? What do you think?”

Plagg poked his head out of her hair and looked over her outfit in the mirror. Plagg’s little face split open in a smile and he settled down in her hair again. “You look pawsitively purrfect kitten. Although, you can stand to use more of our colours.”

She giggled and nodded. “I know I could. Should I use the black clutch instead? With the emerald clasp?”

Plagg considered that before nodding. “With the matching shoes. And the emerald necklace and earrings.”

Thana smiled and glanced behind her at the cheese danishes. “Would you care for a cheese danish? I’m sure we’ll be able to find some of that rich people's cheese at the function.”

Plagg dashed out of her hair and went over to the plate of cheese danishes. “You’re the sweetest kitten.”

Thana giggled and placed her white clutch on the vanity table. “You just like getting carbs with your cheese.” Thana hurried to grab the right clutch and transferred her things from the white clutch to the black clutch. She slipped on her black shoes with emerald details, grabbed her emerald necklace and earrings, and put them on. “Okay Plagg.” Thana picked up her clutch and turned to him. “What do you think now?”

Plagg smiled. “Pawsitively purrfect kitten. You’ll be the Cinderella of the ball.”

Thana and Plagg laughed before Plagg finished his danish and flew back to her hair. “Let’s go. Chloé, Kim and Nino will be here soon.”

---

Thana, the shortest of her friends, stood glumly in a corner as her eyes were focused on the screen on the opposite wall. She felt her mood darken further when the international news rolled along and displayed a story from Gotham.

“Yama Lingpa, reporting live from the Wayne conference.” Yama Lingpa was an attractive woman of Tibetan descent, with long brown hair and deep brown eyes. “Mr. Wayne is addressing the world today regarding his sons.”

Bruce Wayne became the focus of the camera, despite the four black haired boys behind him, with an easy smile on his face. “First of all, I’d like to thank you all for being here today. Second of all, I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge and remember all of the parents who don’t get their children back.” Bruce bowed his head in silence, an action quickly followed by the rest of the people in attendance. “Finally, I’d like to introduce you all to my sons. One of them you’ve all probably heard of before, as we believed we’d buried him some years ago.” Bruce cleared his throat before motioning for two of his sons to step forward. Bruce pointed to the younger of the two, who bore a striking resemblance to him. “This is my son Damian, who was conceived through less than ideal means. He’s the only one who’s actually biologically my son but that does not mean I love the rest of my sons any less.” Bruce pointed to his other son, older but not the oldest, who’s blue eyes kept Thana’s eyes affixed to the screen. “My second son, Jason Peter Todd, has returned. He’s the one who brought Damian to me, after being kidnapped by Damian’s mother.”

Thana could no longer focus, a gasp escaping her, as she gazed at her brother for the first time since she’d been forced out of Gotham.

“I know. Isn’t he dreamy?” An older girl asked from beside Thana. “I would climb on top of him and ride him like the prize stallion.”

Chloé appeared out of nowhere and cleared her throat. “You do know that’s her brother, right? And no girl wants to hear that another girl wants to ride their brother.” Chloé seemed to process her words for a moment before turning to Thana. “Your brother? But,” she shook herself before placing a hand on Thana’s shoulder. “I’ll go get the others. We’ll go back to mine and talk. Collect some snacks.”

Thana walked over to the buffet-style table loaded with various foods, grabbed a variety of different foil containers, and filled them with the snacks each person would enjoy. She did everything as though on autopilot, barely noticing when Chloé returned until Nino took the containers from her, and Kim, with his red suit jacket, pulled her against his chest. Behind Thana’s friends stood Chloé’s oldest friend, Adrien, and Alix Kubdel.

The six teens walked out of the hall, hushed whispers following them out.

-*-*-*

Jason let the smile slip from his face as soon as he joined Dick and Tim backstage. He turned away from Bruce and Damian, feeling the younger boy grab his left hand anyway. “What did you mean? You couldn’t possibly. Dickiebird, Replacement. Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Tim shrugged sheepishly before pulling out the polaroids. “It happened in broad daylight. I’m sorry, I was nine I didn’t know what to do.”

Dick frowned. “I wasn’t even in the city that day.” Dick looked at his little brothers and pulled them close. “I promise, we’ll track her down.”

Bruce frowned and narrowed his eyes at his oldest. “You will do no such thing. No son of mine will be running around with the child of a rogue.”

Jason pulled away from his brothers and raised an eyebrow at Bruce. “Alfred would call you a hypocrite. I’ll call you an ass. Pixie is my little sister and she will always come first.” Jason turned back to his brothers before gently pushing Damian towards Tim. "You're still living in the manor, right? Can you take him there for a while? There are some things I need to take care of before I can take him in."

Tim nodded before wrapping an arm around Damian.

Dick tugged Jason into his arms a final time before letting him go. “You’ll find her.”

---

Jason frowned at the red haired man from his hiding place amongst the shadows.

“Where oh where has my little Alice gone? She was so sweet, so tiny, so much fun to play with.” Tetch’s voice would have sent shivers down a lesser man’s spine, but Jason would never forget the night he met Pixie.

Jason silently leapt down from his hiding place and pulled a gun on Tetch. He felt a sinister smile spread across his face and tilted his head in a rather Joker-esque manner. “Watcha doin’ Hatter?”

Tetch jolted before a crazed laugh poured from his lips. “Oh my little Alice’s white rabbit! So pleasant to see you. It really has been so long, hasn’t it? Since poor old Joker sunk his claws in you and ruined you.” A manic smile spread across his face and he mimicked Jason’s head tilt. “Oh but my poor sweet Alice’s white rabbit has grown up to be such a dick.”

Jason growled and moved his gun to put a round in Tetch’s arm. “Back to Arkham with you. And tell Joker, he won’t get a second chance.” Jason hauled the bleeding man up and off they went.

---

Jason had dropped Tetch off just inside the gates and set off the alarm before booking it in the opposite direction. He systematically checked the city, going over all of the known haunts for street kids before going over all of his haunts with Pixie. He just wanted to find something that would lead him to wherever his sister had been carted off to. He was sitting on the roof of a building when he felt a presence looming over him. “If B sent you, you can fuck off. If Joker sent you, I’ll break your kneecaps.”

The presence, who turned out to be The Riddler, sat beside Jason. “Neither of them sent me. Neither of them would send me. I’m a free agent. However, we have something in common. Our affection for Hatter’s girl.”

Jason turned to look at the rogue. “Hatter’s girl?”

Ed smiled and pulled out a worn photo from his wallet. He held the photo so that Jason could see it and smiled. “She saw me. The real me.”

Jason glanced at the rogue with a newfound affection and smiled. “She was funny like that.”

---

Jason smiled as he looked around his new apartment. He had rented an apartment with three bedrooms, on the off chance he would find his sister again and one of his brothers stayed over because Damian, his little nugget, refused to sleep alone.

Jason straightened his shoulders before straightening his clothing in his closet. He was excited, today was the day his little nugget was coming home. He walked from his bedroom to the kitchen and wiped down the counters again.

A knock sounded on his door before his excited nine-year-old babbled something in Arabic before just opening the door.

“Little Nugget!” Jason smiled and crouched to accept the nine year old into his arms before standing up and adjusting his little nugget onto his hip. “Replacement.” He cleared his throat before looking over at his older brother. “Dickiebird.”

Tim smiled and shrugged. “Do you mind if I crash here for a while?”

Jason smiled. “Mi casa es su casa.” He smiled as his excited nine-year-old babbled at him. “Ya hayati, I’m going to put you down now. Okay? You can either stay here or go find our room.”

Damian ran off to go find their room with excited laughter falling from his lips.

Jason turned back to his brothers and schooled his features. “Before you say anything, I’ve been the only one to show that boy any affection since he was born. Also, he sleeps better if he’s laying down with someone.”

---

The four brothers sat on the roof of the apartment building, Damian on Jason’s lap and Tim leaning against Dick’s side.

“Thank you for being here for me. I appreciate your support.” Jason smiled at his brothers and the four just watched the sky for a while before going back into Jason’s apartment. He would always search for his little sister, but until he found her he was grateful that he had his brothers to help watch his back.

Taglist

@southamericangothamite @maribat-is-lifeblood @mystery-5-5 @our-preciousss @mochegato @chocolatecatstheron @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen  @2confused-2doanything @wannajointhecrabcult @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmymind @moonlightstar64 @justafanwarrior @mialuvscats @pheony1882 @pepelachanel

Questions? Wondering why Damian is so, not normal Damian? Let’s keep in mind he was six when Jason joined them and it’s been three years.

[e-milieeee]

what if we already are (what we’ve been dying to become)—Marichat

Summary: Hawkmoth’s defeat should mark a joyous occasion for Paris’ superheroes, but instead, Chat Noir finds his entire world breaking apart.

(Marinette’s determined to help him build it back together, piece by piece.)

Notes: i... forgot to post this? reveal fic with uH angst and some healing and tears ahHAHAha whoops 

Or read on AO3

The whole world was made of fire—suffocating, terrifying fire—yet Adrien was drowning.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Even as the rest of them apprehended Hawkmoth (no, not Hawkmoth: Gabriel Agreste, his father), Adrien didn’t help. Pieces of glass from the battle littered the ground, chaos spread all around, unfurling inside him, and the yawning pit of horror and fear and disbelief opened wider.

Hawkmoth was his father.  

He watched as the butterfly pin was taken, watched as Hawkmoth was led away, watched as his father’s lips moved, addressing him in words that didn’t reach Adrien’s ears. Plagg, who had hovered a little ways away after he had released his transformation, flew up to Adrien and nestled in his hair. If he offered any words of comfort, Adrien didn't hear them.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, drowning and drowning and drowning like there was no end to how deep the water could drag him down. The only breath of air was when the familiar sight of red and black dropped into his line of vision and Ladybug’s hand rested on his shoulder.

“Adrien,” she said.

Adrien. His name seemed to ring in his ears, growing louder until his head felt like it was going to burst. Adrien Agreste. She knew. Ladybug knew who he was.

Adrien Agreste, son of Gabriel Agreste—son of Hawkmoth.

The water once again dragged him under, and Adrien felt himself whisper the words of transformation before he was fleeing as fast as he could. Glass cracked under his feet like bones. Ladybug’s shouts for him to stay only made him run faster, and then Chat Noir was scrambling blindly through Paris, wind tearing at his face and guilt tearing even more viciously at his heart. He didn’t know where he was going, but all he knew was that he needed to get away.

For a very long time, the city blurred for Chat. Something seemed to carry him along, kept him going until he reached his destination.

There. The school. Perched on the roof, Chat looked down. Ladybug’s magic had fixed everything, it seemed, because not a brick was out of place. The crack that ran through the courtyard was gone. Everything was the same, even if nothing was anymore.

Inside him, a hurricane of emotions continued to swirl, each demanding their own share of his misery. They mixed and danced until Chat couldn’t tell them apart, but it didn’t matter. After all, they were only there to serve as a reminder of who his father was. And, as an extension, who he was.

Chat blinked, expecting to feel a prickling in his eyes—anything—but no tears came. Gabriel Agreste had always been a quiet, driven man, even when Emilie was still alive. But there had always been memories of better days, when his father had put aside his work to lift him up on his shoulders, running around the house and laughing while his mother chased them with a broom. There was the time his father had attended his piano recital, watching fondly with his mother tucked in the crook of his arm, standing up to clap when Adrien finished. There was the time they had decided to bake together as a family and eight-year-old Adrien splashed a bowl of melted butter over Gabriel by accident and received a bowl of flour over his head as revenge.

Such warm memories, once treasured pieces Adrien clung onto. Now they were tainted with new ones: seeing his mother in the glass coffin; Hawkmoth’s detransformation falling to reveal his father; the way he had attacked Ladybug, his friends and him.

A soft zing sounded behind him, and Chat whirled around in fright and surprise. Ladybug stood, blue eyes like the sky, even though the sky today was covered in a dark, angry grey.

A wave of terror swept over Chat. What did she think of him now that she knew the boy underneath the suit? It had always been Chat Noir which he favoured over Adrien Agreste. Who would she see when she looked at him? Her partner Chat Noir, or Adrien the son of Hawkmoth? Or maybe Chat Noir, son of Hawkmoth?

“Stay away,” he managed to croak, scrambling to his feet. Above their heads, thunder clapped and lightning streaked. A storm was on its way. “I’m—I’m—” The words caught in his throat, refusing to come out.

Ladybug raised her hands in a placating gesture. “Adrien,” she ventured, and he flinched back violently. She tried again. “Chat. It’s okay.”

“You know who I am.” The words were shameful, and he wished desperately they weren’t true.

Ladybug’s blue eyes remained locked with his, anchoring his feet to the ground, not letting him flee again. Then, without looking away, she whispered, “Tikki, spots off.”

As the bright pink light of her transformation faded, the first drops of rain began to fall as well. Before him stood Ladybug—no, not Ladybug. Before him was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chat’s breath caught in his throat. His father momentarily forgotten, he took in the sight of her: black hair tied by red ribbons, brilliant blue eyes. The shape of her face. The sweep of her bangs, which were beginning to get soaked by the rain. Everything about her was so, so familiar.

How had he been so blind? Marinette, bringing the class pastries from her family’s bakery. Ladybug’s kind smile as she spoke gently, softly to akuma victims. Marinette, laughing as she kicked his ass once more in Ultimate Mecha Strike. Ladybug, whooping as they raced across Paris. Marinette, full of warmth and love and determination and a kindness that extended to everyone. Ladybug, always selfless and brave and beautiful.  

Of course. Who else could Ladybug be but Marinette?

And how vast the chasm between them. Marinette Dupain-Cheng didn’t deserve Adrien Agreste as her partner.

The thought swept through him and seized hold of his heart. With all the willpower he had left, he ripped his gaze from hers and turned to run again.

He only managed a single step forward before a hand latched onto his wrist. Before Chat could go anywhere, Marinette was tugging him back, rain streaking down her cheeks like tears. She said, “Stay.”

A choked gasp left him, and with it, all the struggle dissipated. Chat let Marinette tug him towards her, collapsing into her arms as she wrapped them around his body, tight and unrelenting. The storm threatened to tear him away, but she clung to him so strongly that he was anchored.

“Chat,” she repeated. “Adrien. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he told her. “It’s not. You—you know who I am. I’m—my father—Hawkmoth’s my father.”  

Marinette didn’t let go of him. The smell of apples and vanilla all around her—it was Ladybug’s scent; Marinette’s scent.

“And you,” he continued. “You’re Marinette. How was I so stupid?”  

“You’re not stupid,” she replied. Slowly, she removed his hands around her, only to put him at arm's length so she could meet his eyes. “You are every bit the person I would want you to be, chaton.”  

“You don’t need to say that to make me feel better.”

A laugh left Marinette as well, but it was quieter, maybe a little sad. She gave his shoulder a little push down, and Chat sat at her command. His body felt too numb, too out of control to resist. “Let me tell you a story. About you.”

About me. What good story could there to be tell about him? What a tale they could spin; Paris’ protector finding out the person Paris needed protection from was his own flesh and blood.

“When I first met you,” she began, “as Adrien Agreste, I hated you.”

The rain continued to splash down, and Chat felt his heart grow cold. Of course she did. Because how could Marinette, light incarnate, love somebody like him? All those days of pining after Ladybug, and he had never realized just how far apart they truly were.

“Then,” Marinette continued, “you gave me your umbrella when it was raining, and I fell in love with you.”

His breath caught in his throat. When he looked at Marinette’s eyes, they were wide and serious.

She fell in love with me.

“Why?” he whispered.

Marinette placed a hand on his cheek, letting the rain gather on her palms as it streaked down both their faces. “Because you were kind,” she replied. “Because you were generous enough to give a stranger your umbrella when it was raining. I began to notice you more after that, and I realized that you were so… you shined so bright. Even though you were famous, you were still humble. Even though you had the best grades in the class, you never bragged about it. There’s never a person you’ve been unkind to, even though they were unkind to you. The more I knew you, the more I loved you.”

The words repeated in Chat’s head like a broken record. “You loved me,” he echoed. “You loved me. As Adrien.”

“Yes,” Marinette agreed. “I loved you as Adrien. And I loved you as Chat Noir, as my partner and my other half. Except I didn’t want to admit it because I thought that I could only be in love with Adrien Agreste. Now that I see you, I don’t know how I could ever have imagined it to be anybody else.”

Chat continued to stare at her. Marinette met his gaze squarely, determination written all over her face. Every word she had said was the truth, no matter how ludicrous and outlandish and surreal it sounded. Just like the truth that his father was Hawkmoth, but this—this truth spoke of a kinder, more hopeful reality.

“Do you love me still?” he finally asked. “After you know who my father is?”

“I don’t care who your father is,” Marinette replied immediately, firmly, before he could even start fearing her answer. “You are not your father, and you’ve more than proven that to me. You’ve more than proven that to everyone. Especially yourself, Adrien.”

He breathed. For the first time since he had found out Hawkmoth’s identity, he truly, deeply, breathed. Then, “Plagg, claws in.”

A flash of light later, it was Adrien standing in front of Marinette. He searched her face for any signs of regret, any disgust, but all he could see was understanding and kindness.

“Adrien.” Marinette’s voice was barely above a whisper. She raised a hand to his face again, wiping at the water that kept on dripping down, drenching his clothing. “You have no idea how happy I am that it’s you.”

She pulled him into another hug and this time, Adrien let himself fall right into it. Her arms remained tight around him, and even as the storm around them raged, the one inside seemed to quiet down ever so slightly.

“None of us care that Hawkmoth’s your father,” she breathed. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t change the fact that you’re loved, Adrien. Just know that.”

Loved. The word pierced through him, finally breaking the dam he had been labouring so hard to hold up. He wept into Marinette’s shoulder out of pain and fright and relief and happiness all at once. Loved. It shattered something inside him, something already broken, and broke it so completely, so wonderfully. And Adrien realized that he believed Marinette—believed wholly with all of his bruised, fractured heart that what she said was true. That she loved him, as Adrien Agreste, as Chat Noir, as Gabriel Agreste’s son.

“It’s okay,” Marinette repeated yet again. “And it’s okay if you’re not okay.”

He sobbed until the tears ran out altogether and even after that, Adrien clung to Marinette like a lifeline. She didn’t let go either, hands soothing against his back, whispering quiet words that Adrien could finally believe.

Adrien was the one who pulled back that time. Marinette smiled at him, her face radiant, and he tried to mirror it. “Look,” he said. “I got your clothing all drenched with my tears.”

She wiped wet hair out of her face and laughed. “Looks like I did the same to you. Seems to me that we’re even on this one, kitty.”

Surprised delight unfurled in him hearing her call him that nickname. Then Adrien was smiling wider, more genuinely. His father was still a weight on his heart, but Marinette was there, holding his hand and not letting him carry it alone.

“I’m glad it was you,” Adrien admitted at last. Thunder rumbled, directly above their heads. “But at the same time, of course it was you.”

“Yes,” Marinette agreed. “Although look at how dumb we were. We couldn’t look past our own crushes to see the person we loved loved us right back.”

The person we loved. Adrien’s heart still stammered at that, leaped and soared and sang to hear such words from her. He wasn’t sure he would ever, ever hear it enough.

Marinette’s laugh suddenly cut through the air. It chimed like bells. “I would get so nervous around you,” she recalled. “I would stammer, freeze up, and could never look you in the eye. To think you were Chat Noir the whole time, and I was turning down the same boy I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence around because how hopelessly in love I was. Isn’t it ridiculous?”

“I can do you one better. I spent so much time convincing myself that you were just a friend and I couldn’t be in love with you because I loved Ladybug, but you were Ladybug all along.” Then he paused. “Wait. That means those pictures in your room…”

Adrien watched as Marinette’s face turned a dark shade of pink. “... they weren’t for your so called designer purposes, were they?” He feigned surprise. “Why, did you have a crush on me, m’lady?”

She smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

He sighed. “I guess all the times I professed my love to you might’ve not actually been for vain. It’s truly touching.”

“Shut up,” Marinette growled, now crimson. “You insufferable cat—”

She broke off, seemed to remember something, then scrunched her face into an expression of determination. Before Adrien could figure out what was happening, Marinette snatched a handful of his shirt and tugged him down to her height, lips brushing over his.

It was all over in a second. Adrien gaped at her like a fish out of water and Marinette tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a shy smile spreading across her face. “For what it’s worth,” she murmured. “Maybe it’s—maybe it’s too early to say this, and it’s okay if you don’t return the sentiment, but I want to spend my life with you. With Adrien and Chat Noir. As Marinette and Ladybug.”

This time, it was joy that bloomed through his chest, full and bright. “Yes,” he breathed. “Yes. Me too.”

Marinette’s smile was the sun, her eyes the sky, and Adrien’s world was bright and clear despite the rain. She held out a hand to him, and he took it.

It’s okay if you’re not okay. The road to healing was a long one, and Adrien knew that it wasn’t overnight that he could finally come to peace with the fact that his father had been Hawkmoth. It wasn’t overnight that he could understand the reasons, to forgive and let go. But that was okay.

Broken, he might be. But broken could be fixed, and if anyone could help him do so, it was Marinette.

End notes: This is part of a set of three loosely connected drabbles (that all work as standalones). Here’s part one.

Fics masterlist here!

[kryptored]

Fall

Would you look at that, huh? I finally finished mine and get to post it for all of you to see, especially @bbwoulfc who I wrote this for and provided me with wonderful prompts.

Here’s to my first time participating in the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Valentine Exchange Event 2021. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Cross-posted from AO3.

Organizing his room isn’t something Luka learned from his mother, but it’s what he makes into a habit after living with her his whole life before moving out. His apartment isn’t as messy as La Liberté is after leaving it alone into his mother’s hands, but that doesn’t excuse him from cleaning his own domain every now and then. And so on that’s what he ends up doing on a Monday, free from other obligations that would’ve prevented him from cleaning.

He starts off by clearing out a particular box stained with multi-coloured paint, sitting at the bottom of a shelf in the corner of his bedroom. He wouldn’t have paid too much attention to it on any other day and just made sure to organize the chaotic stacking of whatever’s on top of it, but there’s something about the chaotic joy that emits from the box, calling out to him like a fairy in the forest. And so he sits down, clearing out the surprisingly spacious box filled with so many things. He finds old photos of him and Juleka smiling widely into the camera and showing off their missing teeth, a few forgotten guitar picks obviously painted by himself, some beads of what could only come from his mother’s collection, and an old shirt that he hopes was washed before sleeping in the box for years. But underneath all of those lies an even smaller box painted dark-teal with splatters of pink, rectangular in shape, and with a latch keeping it closed.

The box is small enough that he can hold it with his two hands, but the sound of shuffling tells him that something is hiding inside it. He opens the box carefully, mindful of any stray glitter that he might’ve forgotten about (something he’s learned in the past), only to find something else. He picks up a small notebook that appears to have something stuck in between its many pages, and he realizes they’re pressed flowers – daffodils, rose petals, violets, daisies, and even bluebells. He carefully closes the notebook, making sure that the flowers are left undisturbed, and notices something written on the first page. He recognizes his handwriting and his pathetic attempt at writing his name in cursive, Juleka’s, but there’s a third name that’s written by someone else’s. It looks much neater than his, so it’s easier for him to read it, and his finger gently brushes against the years-old charcoal on paper: ‘Marinette Dupain-Cheng’.

All of a sudden, the name of a long-lost friend unlocks memories of the past. Memories of children spending most of their days together, running around and splashing each other with water and sharing snacks while sitting under a tree. He sees memories that unlock something that has been planted in his heart a long time ago, spending years in silent hibernation, until now.

He blinks his eyes multiple times, trying to shake away the wistfulness and longing of what he thinks is already gone, and puts the notebook back in its place. As he does so, he notices a necklace chain lying at the corner of the small box and picks it up. Strangely enough, nothing is attached to it. He thinks hard on what could have been there, and whether or not it had been lost during one of his previous cleaning before, during, or after moving out. He’ll have to ask his mother and maybe Juleka about that. For now, he pockets the chain and puts the small box right by his bed as a reminder to put it somewhere else.

Not wanting to get too distracted, he quickly and carefully puts the rest of the trinkets away and continues with his cleaning. Despite that, though, he spends most of his cleaning time thinking about the past and a girl he once called Marinette.

While he clears out the dust gathering from every corner, he remembers the softness of her hand whenever they held hands.

While he sweeps the floor, he hums the tune of an unnamed song he remembers singing to her after tripping and scraping her hands and knees.

While he washes, dries, and folds his laundry, he smiles when he remembers the sound of her laugh.

While he cooks dinner, he remembers the smell of grass that lingers around them after rolling around it for hours.

It takes him until he’s lying on his bed, eyes wide open, fingers twiddling with the necklace chain that he realizes it’s always been there. The feelings have always been there, but he was too young to know until now. He closes his eyes to sleep, hoping to at least see her again - if not in reality, but perhaps in his dreams.

He wakes up in the morning, tears staining the sides of his cheeks, and he realizes he’ll never see her again.

A few days after the impromptu visit down memory lane, he walks into an arts and crafts store to buy some special paper to use for his band’s flyers. After asking an employee on which aisle to go to, he hums the same song that reminds him of her, and for now he won’t cry again. But as he turns the corner of the aisle, he halts his steps and his face is frozen with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

There, standing in the middle of the paper aisle, is who Luka can only assume is Marinette (if he remembers her features correctly). From the looks of the basket she’s carrying filled with paint and paintbrushes, she must’ve been here for a while now. She looks pretty - no, prettier - than how he remembers her, and he wishes he can take a picture of her in case it’s all he has left of her before she disappears again.

She looks pretty (what was wrong with repeating it?) standing there looking at the shelf of cardstock paper, her hair done up in a bun with a few stray strands brushing against her neck and cheeks. She’s wearing a peach-coloured blouse with a ruffled collar and short butterfly sleeves tucked into light-blue high-waisted jeans, and gold-coloured sandals.

Luka changes his mind and thinks that she’s not pretty - she’s absolutely beautiful.

“Marinette?” He calls out to her in a soft voice, unsure if she’ll hear him. Luka remains standing still, his breathing even caught in the moment, and that’s how Marinette finds him when she turns around at the call of her name. She puts on a polite smile, unsure how to address the stranger who knows her name, until she realizes it’s not just a stranger.

It takes her a while to recognize Luka, mostly because of the teal-dyed tips of his hair that apparently suits him well. He’s grown up from the lanky boy she used to grab onto whenever she gets scared, judging by how well the all-black raglan t-shirt clings to his arms. She notices how tall he’s gotten, what with how long his legs look wearing those dark skinny jeans and a pair of low cut white and mint green sneakers.

“Luka? Is that you?”

They simultaneously walk closer to each other, but still wary about whether or not they’re mistaking someone else for their childhood friend.

“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” He asks, and his heart beats a little louder and faster when he hears her laugh, the back of her hand covering her mouth to hide her smile and he so wishes to see it again after all these years.

“I guess it has been.”

“So… 15 years, huh?”

“Hm? Oh! Oh, yes!” She laughs again and he loves the sound of it. It sounds even better than he remembers it to be. “I can’t believe it’s been that long already.”

“Yeah, neither can I. So, uh… how have you been? How’re your parents? Do you live around here, too?”

“I’m doing fine and so are my parents. They have a bakery and apartment set up at the 21st arrondissement, so you should come by! They’d love to see you again, you know?” she holds onto one of his arms, and it feels so warm and he doesn’t want her to let go. “What about you? How’re you doing? And Juleka? Your mom?”

“We’re great,” he responds breathily, “I’m glad to see you again, you know? And I’d love to drop by at the bakery. And you said ‘they’ so, does that mean you…?”

“Moved away? Yes, I have.” She lets go, and he feels as if winter has come to hold him instead. “It’s actually not too far from them so, we don’t really miss each other that much.”

They continue with their small reunion, walking around the store while exchanging stories that they missed out on each other. They talk as if 15 years had never separated them at all, until their meeting comes to an end when Marinette sees that time and tells Luka that she has somewhere to be. Sad as it is, he finds comfort when they exchange numbers and have something to hold onto the other - to have something to remind them that they’re not separated anymore.

He waves her off from the store’s door, and it’s only when the same employee he spoke with earlier asks him if he’s found what he’s looking for that remembers he was there to buy paper.

Right, of course.

They spend the entire night after their reunion talking to each other, and it ends with them agreeing to meet up outside of Shakespeare and Company, a bookstore they’ve both been meaning to visit soon. They agree to meet the day after, and it leaves Luka feeling nervous as he picks out what to wear. After 15 minutes (he made sure to wake up extra early today) were spent looking through his closet, he finally decides on a white graphic shirt slightly tucked into light-grey chino shorts with a brown belt to secure it, and blue and white loafers. He grabs his dark-green crossbody bag, checks that everything he needs is already inside, locks his door, and leaves for the bookstore.

When he arrives at the bookstore, he sees Marinette standing outside looking down at her phone, and he can’t help but admire at how adorable she looks wearing a white oversized shirt with drop shoulder sleeves reaching down to her elbows and tucked into all-black shorts, black high cut boots, and a black bucket hat to cover her head from the bright sun. As he walks closer, he notices that she’s left her hair down this time, and the image reminds him of those times she and Juleka would practice different hairstyles on each other. Her other arm holds onto the strap of her own crossbody bag.

Luka coughs into his hand to catch her attention, to which she responds and he’s happy to see how bright her eyes are when she notices him.

“Luka, hi! You’re here!”

“Hello, Marinette.” He greets her, and the way those words leave him feels all too familiar until now. “You ready to go in?”

“I’m excited, actually. But I think knowing you’re spending the day with me makes it even more exciting.”

Unsure whether the weather is getting warmer or not, he clears his throat and opens the door for her. “So am I, actually. After you.”

The day goes well - even better than yesterday - and they spend it like good old friends who leave no time for awkwardness. They touch each other by the arm or by the shoulder, something similar to what they used to do, and yet they’re also more than that. Each touch is warmer and lingers longer than the last, and Luka can only hope that Marinette feels it, too. He thinks she does with how she turns around quickly after they brush their fingers against each other while reaching for the same book. His mind is stuck with the image of what he can only assume was a blush on her face, unable to respond to her squeaking out, “I’ll check the next aisle!”

He only stares at her back, initially scared that she’ll disappear again and never to see him again for 15 more years, but he calms himself and ponders on the tingling that tickles him from inside out. And for the rest of the day, they peek through corners of bookshelves and vacant spaces in-between books, smiling and laughing as they share their finds and decide on what to buy.

They leave the store to eat lunch at a nearby café, doing some more catching up with each other. They talk and talk and talk the entire day away, going from one place to another without a care in the world besides from knowing that finally, finally they’ve found each other again, and it’s like they don’t want to let go of each other again.

The next few days, unfortunately, do not cater to their sudden need for each other’s company, because of their own personal responsibilities. Luka and practicing with his band, writing and composing songs, and visiting his mother and sister while letting them know that he’s seen Marinette again. Marinette, on the other hand, finds herself busy with multiple card orders from her clients, helping out at her parents’ bakery, and definitely letting them know that she’s seen Luka again.

It’s not until a week and a half later that they get to see each other again in person for a picnic. Although they spend the previous nights texting and calling each other, there’s just something about seeing someone special to you without the physical limitations from their phones. Even when it’s summer, the days and nights they spent apart after reuniting could only make them feel like it’s winter.

The picnic was to take place on a field outside of the city, a place recommended to him by one of his bandmates (after some well-deserved teasing when they found out the reason for his asking). Because it was a bit far, Luka volunteered to drive them both there with his car. The lack of the typical urban noises they’ve grown accustomed to only serves as a plus, considering they were both the type to prefer a calm ambience.

Marinette had brought some home-made pastries for them to eat, as well as some water and juice to drink. She also brought with her a sketchbook and some pencils in case inspiration were to strike her and use it for any future cards to make. Asides from those, she also made sure to bring two small bed tray tables for them to place some of the food on. She also decided to wear a light blue V-neck dress just brushing against the top of her knees with circular cap sleeves extending down just before her elbows, and white sandals. Once again, her hair is left down to spread across her back.

Luka, on the other hand, was quite adamant to take responsibility for bringing the picnic blankets that could fit an entire class and more when they first planned the outing. Asides from those, he also brought some foldable chairs for them to sit on if the ground started feeling too stiff for their bottoms, and his guitar to pass the idle time by playing some music for both of them. As for his clothes, this time he went with a light blue button-up shirt with the first two buttons left open, paired with black shorts, and sand-yellow loafers.

After arriving at the field for their picnic, they choose to sit close to a small cluster of trees that would give them more than enough shade to protect them from the sun. They were taking out all of their picnic essentials from Luka’s car while also admiring the scenery in front of them, when Marinette said something.

“This is wonderful, Luka. Please thank your friend for recommending this place, and I really think we should start doing this more.”

“For sure, Marinette. And not that I don’t like it, but aren’t you a bit too early to say that?” He turns around from where he’s busy placing their food basket down, “What if you ended up hating the picnic?”

“Wha - no! As if!” Marinette looks over her shoulder quickly and he sees her eyes going wide, her hands clenching onto the blanket she was supposedly fixing, “Why would I even think that? Why would you think that? This place is perfect, the weather is perfect, the food is perfect, and - ”

“And the company is perfect?” Luka’s question was a gamble on his part, and he hopes that Marinette doesn’t notice the trembling of his voice.

“Yes!”

He also wasn’t sure that she’d even say something back, but he watches as her eyes slowly widen even more, the flush in her cheeks rapidly gaining territory of her entire face, and her mouth shaping into a large ‘O’ until -

‘Yup, there it is.’ He thinks to himself, unsure whether he’s referring to the lovely shade of red on her face or the fact that his childhood friend finally realizes what she’s said.

“I-I mean – it’s because – I wasn’t thinking properly when you – but that doesn’t mean that I think you’re – but you know what I – ” Marinette quickly turns her back on him, her shoulders tense and hunching, and just as Luka’s about to reach out and touch her shoulder for comfort, he’s startled when he hears her muffled scream.

“H-hey…Marinette, come on. It’s okay.” His hand finally makes contact with her shoulder and pats it gently. “I understand, so don’t be too hard on yourself, okay?”

He sits closer to her and gives her a side hug, rubbing her arm to try and console his easily flustered friend. It seems to work when her face finally surfaces from the safety of her hands, face still a little red, her brows scrunched up in worry and her eyes glossy from unshed tears.

“Hey, hey…” he coos at her, leaning even closer to her to the point that their shoulders are practically touching, “It’s alright. I get it. You know you don’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself in front of me. And besides, I am the perfect company after all.”

“Lukaaaaaaa!” she whines and hits him not too hard on the chest, inducing a hearty laugh from him.

“Alright, alright! Easy there, Marinette. How about we forget about this and go right ahead with eating. Sounds good?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Why don’t you get some of your stuff that’s still in the car, and I’ll set the food?” He gives her the car keys, implying that she can lock the car afterwards. Just as Marinette takes the keys, turns around, and walks away, Luka quickly turns his back towards her to hide his face that’s now rapidly gaining a new shade of red.

‘Magnolia and cherry blossom;’ he thinks to himself, referring to the smell from his friend, ‘like a walk at Champ de Mars.’

Before getting caught, he goes right back to taking the food out from the basket and sets everything down onto the blanket with shaky hands.

After eating and admiring the view, they eventually find themselves leaning onto each other’s back. They make no other noise asides from Luka strumming his guitar and the occasional scratch of charcoal against paper on Marinette’s end. After the slightly awkward chattering from earlier, it worries Luka that there had been little talk between them since then. And even when Marinette would keep on assuring him that everything’s alright, it worries him that perhaps after being separated for 15 long years, not everything goes back to the way it used to be.

Perhaps he is expecting too much, thinking of what ifs and could have beens, and he’s left clueless on how to keep their strange relationship afloat if the day ends on a sour note. Perhaps he should’ve kept his mouth shut, and maybe Marinette wouldn’t feel too uncomfortable anymore and -

A muffled thud rouses him from his deep thoughts, curious to know what could’ve dropped onto the blanket. Just as he turns back to ask Marinette what it was (if she would even answer him at all), he sees something flash from her small and soft hands.

There, sitting perfectly from Marinette’s hand, is what looks like an open pocket watch with its outside the colour of champagne. But as he looks closer, he realizes it’s actually a compass with a sundial instead of a watch with gold-coloured rims. Marinette notices him looking at what she’s holding, and before she can say a word, he beats her to it by asking,

“You still have that? After all these years?”

“Of course. It’s one of the few things I can never let go.”

Instead of saying something back, Luka immediately starts patting his shirt and shorts, before finally putting his hand in one of his pockets to grab something and pull out the same necklace chain he had found in the small box hiding in his room, and holds it out to her.

“This is its chain for it, right? The compass, I mean.”

“Y-yeah. You told me I could have the compass while you keep the chain, so we’d know there’s always a chance for us to see each other again.”

The words ‘and we did’ are left unsaid, but they still knew what it meant for them. What it means for them. No longer able to stop himself, he cups both her cheeks and leans his forehead against hers, close enough to smell the flowers on her again. Close enough to brush his nose against hers. Close enough to just kiss her.

But he doesn’t and she doesn’t. And frankly, they’re alright with what they have right now.

They end their picnic in the late afternoon, with the sun still up and hinting a shade of orange in its yellows. They pack everything back inside Luka’s car in silence, but the kind where they are comfortable and content without the words. They spend the rest of the drive back to the city basking in a new kind of understanding, one that they’ve chosen to keep among themselves, hands bashfully brushing against each other every now and then, and eyes sneaking glances at one another.

They don’t talk again until Luka drops Marinette off, helps her put all her stuff back in her apartment, and stands outside of her door.

“Thank you again for the picnic, Luka.”

“And thank you for the company, Marinette.” Instead of getting flustered at the reminder of what happened earlier, she only offers him a small smile.

“You know you can stay a little longer if you want,” she offers, “surely you must be tired from driving.”

She wraps her hands across herself, her fingers playing with the fabric of her dress. Her hair is now tied into a loose side ponytail, her sandals replaced with soft home slippers in light pink.

Luka scratches his right cheek with a finger, his eyes telling her without words that he is more than ready to accept her invitation. His left hand is hiding within the confines of his pocket, fidgeting as much as possible with his phone.

But just as Luka opens his mouth to verbally accept her offer, they hear something buzz. Luka immediately takes his phone out, sees his mother’s name and excuses himself, walking a few steps away from Marinette. He notices her glancing away, giving him some privacy.

His head is filled with today’s events, even as he listens to his mother’s words through the phone. He can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, they’re not just childhood friends anymore. That maybe, just maybe, these feelings between them can grow just as they have. But as soon as he comes to that conclusion, his heart drops at what his mother tells him.

He hangs up after bidding her goodbye, puts his phone back in his pocket, and walks back to Marinette. For every step he takes, he dreads of the disappointment he’ll see on her face as soon as he tells her,

“Sorry, but I can’t stay.”

The guilt eats at him as he watches her smile drop, her bright blue eyes looking from up at him to down at her shoes, her brows a little furrowed from -

‘Disappointment. She’s disappointed I can’t stay.’

“So, uh…” he clears his throat, “I really want to stay, but Ma called me to – ”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Marinette finally looks up, and Luka’s glad that there aren’t any tears. “Just tell her and Juleka I said hi.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

He remains standing in front of her, still not ready to leave her in fear that it’ll be the last he sees of her. They remain standing in front of each other in silence, the gaiety from today slowly slipping away until it leaves them with a cold hug. All of a sudden, it feels like winter during a summer night. It doesn’t make sense; not in the slightest, and Luka hates it.

“I guess I’ll just call you when I get home?” He asks her, his arms opening up to invite her for a hug.

“Yeah, of course.” She walks into his embrace, and he’s not even ashamed of letting out a sigh of relief when he feels her hands wrap around him. “Let me know when you’re back home.”

He hums in agreement, even when bites his tongue to not say ‘I am home. With you.’

They separate after a few more seconds, but only enough that they’re still wrapped around each other, Luka looking down at Marinette’s face. He looks into her eyes, and he sees the same blue sky that often smiled upon them when they used to be children, and he wishes to see the same sky now that they’re no longer that young. He looks at the small blush that finds itself spreading onto her cheeks like the picnic blankets they used, and he sees the sunset that used to smile down on them whenever they bid farewell and went back home; before the last goodbye turned into years instead of a night and day.

And suddenly, he has an idea.

He has an idea, and it’s a very bold one. He has an idea that has been whispering suggestively at him from the very corner of his mind, persisting to catch his attention and never going away. He has an idea that persists on calling out to him, screaming at him, telling him to just –

He leans down slowly, his eyes looking into hers before falling down onto her lips. He looks into those lips that he keeps thinking whether they taste just as sweet as the pastries she bakes.

Instead, he gently presses his own lips onto hers, and all he tastes are blueberries and lemon. He thinks he’s kissing pure bliss, but perhaps it’s happiness.

He feels her hand cup his cheek, slightly putting pressure onto the skin and pushing him closer to her, and suddenly happiness turns into elation. Marinette is responding and it’s utterly delightful. Luka doesn’t want to let her go anymore – because he’s finally telling her what’s been gnawing at him – but he pulls away, nonetheless.

He hears her whine in disappointment, and he mentally berates himself for making the habit of disappointing her.

“I have to go now.” He whispers to her, but with where he’s looking, neither knows if he’s telling Marinette, herself, or her pair of lips.

After gaining the confidence to look into her eyes again, Luka believes his knees are going weak.

“I really have to go now.” He tells her, and he leans onto her hand when her fingers start caressing his cheek.

“I know.”

He finally lets her go and steps away, unwilling to turn his back around; afraid that he’ll lose sight of her and never see her again for years. Or ever at all.

“I’ll call you later?”

Marinette can only smile at the boy she once knew 15 years ago, tucking stray hands of her hair behind her ear.

“I’ll wait for you.”

He smiles back at her before walking away,

only to quickly turn back around to kiss her like sunlight with the flowers on fresh, spring morning.

[omniswords]

la vie en rose [félix graham de vanily/marinette dupain-cheng]

“What in the world are you doing?”

Her arm was still extended. “Giving you an out. Because it’s New Year’s Eve, and we’re lonely-together people, and you want a party, and I want to change my mind.” She looked at him meaningfully, then nodded toward her hand. “So are you going to take it or not?”

Two years pass, and Félix finds himself stuck and bored out of his mind at a New Year's party. Fortunately, he finds someone who can get him out. And give him more than he bargained for.

Félix wasn’t exactly a man of science beyond school necessities, but he was pretty sure—he could hypothesize, even—that mankind was capable of dying of boredom, and he’d be the first to go.

It wasn’t as though he found it difficult to interact with people at gatherings like these. He’d been to enough of these stuffy parties and black-tie galas that he could at least pretend at being a socialite. He knew how to manipulate words and punch up cheap party tricks enough for that special class of adults who looked down their noses at everyone to laugh behind their hands and call him a master magician. And he knew how to feign laughter at comments like those, because he wasn’t a magician, really. He was an illusionist. He just didn’t have the time to play at semantics with these people when the only point was to get on their good sides.

(Even if he wasn’t entirely sure that any of those Rossis had a good side.)

The problem was that events like these were so monotonously dull, whether they were here in France or back in London. He didn’t know how much longer he could deal with the Paris elite telling him how much he’d grown. How talented he was and how excited he must be to inherit his family’s line of work. How he must love the city his aunt once came to call home, and how very tragic it still was to think of her sudden disappearance. Worst of all, how interested he must be in the Agreste’s fashion lines, and—to his chagrin and disdain—how very much he resembled his cousin.

The only relief he got from the last was how, whenever she overheard it, Chloé Bourgeois would fix him with a brief disgusted expression. No matter to him; the feeling was mutual, always had been. And she was the fool besides, for trying so maddeningly hard to possess Adrien in the first place, even after all these years. Even after he tied himself down to that fencing girl. Tsurugi, he thought her name was?

Well. He did it for his mother, after all. She was, and perhaps would always be, the only the reason he managed to endure these things.

But no matter how much he thought of her, no matter how many hugs she gave him, or how much of the car ride back to the hotel she spent thanking him and stroking his hair, he still needed a moment to breathe. That moment found him on one of the balconies of the Grand Paris, the double doors behind him closing off the music and the gossip and leaving him only with the night lights and the strangely temperate winter weather. The city was just as he remembered it, or wanted to: buzzing with life where he couldn’t quite see it, baring its teeth in a smile or bitten-out words. Inviting him to play, or scolding him for all the stiffness in his clothes and his bones and his attitude. But what did Paris know about him? And what did he care to know about it?

And, most baffling of all—why did he want to disappear into it so badly?

Before Félix could humor himself with any more questions or sink his teeth into the night air any further, a figure caught his sight of the corner of his eye. A person, strolling down the street with an irritating bounce in her step. It wasn’t until she came into the streetlight that he recognized her—the dark hair, those curious eyes.

That… that girl from Adrien’s video message. I-Love-You Girl. What was her name again? Marie? Madeleine? How easy it was to forget… He only hoped she’d developed some taste since he’d seen her last.

But what if he…?

Once she was close enough to the balcony, just under the streetlight, he cleared his throat to get her attention. When that didn’t work, he called out, “Hey.” Loud enough that she’d hear him, but not so loud that anyone else would think he was crazy.

I-Love-You Girl stopped, startled, looked around. Was she always so scatterbrained?

“Up here,” he said with an exasperated sigh, leaning over the balcony and digging his chin in his hand so she could get a better look at him. When she had the sense to look, of course.

Finally she did—and as soon as they met eyes, she stared at him sideways. Which… he supposed he deserved, all things considered. At least it was refreshing not to be mistaken for Adrien at first glance. Even though she was, or hopefully had been, so sickeningly invested in him that it was more a dichotomy of Adrien and Not Adrien. “Félix,” she said, by way of greeting, colder than the evening. He didn’t even know she was capable of a tone like that. He didn’t even know she remembered his name. “What do you want?”

“Get me out of here,” Félix said with no hesitation and a backwards glimpse at the gala going on behind him. He could make out a muffled piano rendition of O Holy Night or Auld Lang Syne, one of those two—probably Adrien’s doing—and a chorus of voices at various levels of inebriation. So much for distinction. “You’re my out.”

The girl narrowed her eyes, and she jammed her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “Why should I?”

“Because it’s New Year’s Eve,” he pointed out airily, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And aren’t you supposed to be nice to people on New Year’s Eve? Good will toward men? Any of it ring a bell?”

She was unmoved. “You’re supposed to be nice to people year-round. And Christmas,” she added pointedly, “was six days ago.”

He sighed again. “Then at least do it for Adrien, would you? Aren’t you friends?”

“Right.” She laughed, but not because she was amused; still, he didn’t miss the split second that her face fell and her body tensed. “Adrien, whose phone you hijacked to try and make me think he hated me. I’m so irrevocably convinced.” She took a step forward, as if to leave. “Besides. You aren’t Adrien.”

Not that that seemed to matter anyway, apparently.

And yet he’d never heard such beautiful words. You aren’t Adrien. Damn right he wasn’t. He’d play them over and over if he could.

“Look, I understand,” he blurted out, hoping at least that would stop her. “I shouldn’t have said that. And I hurt your feelings before and never apologized to you for it. I should have. We were just in such a hurry to catch our train back and I never got the chance to meet you in person. Let me… make it up to you now. You know. While fate’s brought us together.” The words tasted tight and bitter in his mouth, like black licorice, but maybe she would believe them. “Tis the season, no?”

She hesitated.

He cocked an eyebrow, inclined his head. He was getting to her. “Besides,” he added. “That Lila girl won’t get off my back about some film deal or other. You must know how annoyingly persistent she can be sometimes. She even puts Bourgeois to shame.”

Félix knew more than his fair share about risk assessment in situations like these, and it seemed as though keeping in touch with Adrien through text, even minimally, paid off. I-Love-You Girl’s expression softened in sympathy—no, empathy—but then she went stiff again, put up the very walls he thought he’d opened up. Oh, he liked this. Finally, someone with a little give.

“Be down in five minutes,” she said, “or you’ll have to find your own way out.”

He grinned, and pushed off the balcony, and slipped back inside.

It wasn’t hard to navigate the hordes of guests, some still singing, some still taking yet another champagne flute from a server with a tray. All he had to do was wait for that Rossi girl to be properly occupied with his mother—which he silently apologized for, and swore to make up to her with a proper Christmas gift—to grab his coat and head downstairs. Even he needed a little air, he said; he wouldn’t be gone long. The only thing that paused him, even briefly, was a conversation he overheard between Adrien and his fencing girl.

“You know, I thought Marinette might show up and help her parents,” he said.

To which the fencing girl replied, “They must have relieved her for the night. Wherever she is, I hope she’s enjoying herself.”

“You mean like we are?” Adrien mumbled, and the two of them laughed, and he took her off to some other corner to chat.

Perfect.

When Félix made it down to the lobby, I-Love-You Girl was still waiting for him, still with her hands in her pockets. Now that he was closer, he could make out the dark pink of her peacoat, the pattern of her sweater dress that peeked out underneath, the wool tights and lace-up boots. At least she had more fashion sense than anyone upstairs, with their sequined gowns and straitlaced satin lapels.

She looked up, and he took a step forward, smiling cordially. “Marinette. So good to see you.”

———

For someone as sweet and mild-mannered as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, she certainly knew her way around Paris’s narrow streets and alleys, all the perfect ways of never getting caught. It almost bordered on suspicion, but Félix was already on thin ice as it was. He resigned himself to the universal truth that it was always the quiet ones who got caught up in affairs like these.

“You know,” he said all the same, “it would be nice to know where you’re taking me.”

“Away from that party,” she said, keeping up a pace so oddly brisk that he might have found it hard to keep up if he weren’t so much taller than she was. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He laughed, a bit in disbelief. He really was going to enjoy this, wasn’t he? “What were you doing out, anyway? Almost everything is closed this time of night.”

Marinette only gave him another sideways glance—more of a glare—and seemed somehow to walk even faster, taking sharp turns every so often. She must have practice with this.

“Must you move so quickly?” he said. “Any faster and we’ll be running.”

“Do you always talk like this?” she shot back.

“I’d rather it didn’t look like I’m trying to pursue you. Or, you know, like you’re trying to get away from me.” He paused. “Are you trying to get away from me?”

Marinette stopped just at the end of one of these alleyways, so suddenly that he stumbled and almost bumped into her. She didn’t turn around to face him, but she spoke anyway. “Did you mean what you said up there?” she asked.

Félix paused. “I don’t follow.”

She scoffed through her nose, as if to say, that’s a first. “Because if you didn’t mean what you said, and you were just trying to get me to get you out of there, then yes, I am trying to get away from you, and you can handle with getting exactly what you wanted—and finding your way back—all by yourself.” Whatever stiffness still lingered in her body started to fade, just a bit. “But if you meant it… if you really do want to make it up to me, if you really have changed for the better, then…”

Marinette trailed off, and turned her head just so, and the rest of her words hung in the balance. I’ll stay with you.

He wasn’t used to this. People like this. Girls like this. They either avoided him like the plague under the impression that his money made him consider them beneath him, or they fell all over him because they wanted something out of him. But Marinette wasn’t quite either one. She was hesitant, sure. Resistant, even. But there, in the hairline cracks of her resolve, were the pieces of her personality poking out. The vulnerability. The want, the need to be known, really known. All the little things that Adrien might have loved about her, if he had been smart enough to look.

It fascinated him.

“Do you really think I haven’t changed?” he asked. “It’s been two years. A lot can happen in two years.”

Marinette folded her arms tight. “So can nothing at all.”

Félix sighed. “Fine, I’ll concede it. I made a… less-than-stellar first impression. We were fourteen. And I was foolish.”

“You also understand,” she quipped, “that being fourteen isn’t an excuse for anything. And that I have this thing called a gut feeling. And that I almost always trust it.”

“And did your gut feeling tell you to leave me on that balcony?” He stepped back. “Did you, perhaps for the first time in your life, decide to go against it?”

Marinette didn’t say anything.

“If you really want me to leave,” he said after a while, once it was clear that she wasn’t going to say anything, “I’ll leave, and you can be on your merry way to celebrate… however it is someone like you celebrates.” His eyes traced the outline of her, head to foot, and he flexed his hands in his pockets, thumb rubbing against the silver band on his finger. “You seem to have been hurt by many people, many times. Let one of them actually do something about it.”

The tension in the moment that followed was near-tangible, and when Marinette stepped onto the street, into the glow of the next streetlight, Félix was half-convinced she really was going to leave. But then she turned on her heel, the slowest she’d been all evening, and looked him up and down, and she was more than that too-soft, simpering I-Love-You Girl he’d first seen. Her cheeks were rosy, likely from the night wind but perhaps from his own words, and she’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail that actually suited her age, and the swimming glint in her eyes and the way she carried herself told him that he was right. That she had been hurt and that, quite frankly, she didn’t need anyone to do anything about it.

And yet she pulled her hand out, extended it to him. “You have tonight,” she finally said. “Let’s hope your second impression is better than your first.”

Félix raised an eyebrow, and took that next step forward. “I think you’ll find,” he said, grasping her hand, “that I’m very good at meeting others’ expectations.”

He bent to kiss the back of it out of polite habit, and it tensed and slipped out of his grip almost instantly. When he looked up, she was staring at him in shock and… shame? Embarrassment? It was hard to read between her lines.

“Sorry,” she stammered, and looked away. “For a moment you reminded me of… someone else.”

“Well, I suppose we can’t have that.” He managed to save himself with a gallant bow—both hands showing, none of his fingers crossed, nothing in his palms. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’m in your charge.”

———

Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so surprised that there was very little still open on New Year’s Eve in Paris. Back home, as he was sure was the case literally everyone where, most festivities and fireworks went on well into the night; in fact, it had sort of been an unofficial family tradition to visit the Natural History Museum, go skating at the ice rink just in front, turn in for some time, return to the streets late at night for some fireworks. He had plenty of pictures from all the years they’d gone before. But that was before his father had passed away, and they hadn’t been back since. Something in his mother’s eyes had changed the first time he asked about the museum, and the sight made his gut twist so unpleasantly that he retracted the question and didn’t dream of ever asking again.

Paris, it seemed, was no different. Sure all the shops and cafés and bakeries were closed for the night and the next day, but there was no shortage of people in the streets and bars and restaurants that were still open. In every building they passed that dared to have its lights on, there were food and drink and excited, almost deafening and certainly drunken chatter.

He swore he’d seen a movie like this, once.

But the whole walk—which was, thank God, actually a walk and no longer practically a run—Marinette was quiet. Occasionally, she checked for phone, sometimes looked it for a couple of minutes at a time. It wasn’t until he pointed out that she still hadn’t told him just where they were going that she shot him a look, phone in hand, and said, “That’s what I’m trying to decide.”

Whatever she could dish out, Félix could give right back. “Have you considered the very novel concept of asking me?”

“Of course. Why hadn’t I thought of that?” Marinette made a show of rolling her eyes as they cut through a nearby park, but at least it seemed playful. “Let me ask the London native what to do on New Year’s Eve in Paris.”

“You know well and good what I meant by that,” he began to say, but stopped short as soon as Marinette did. He squinted at the building in front of him, the dim display cases just inside, the black and gold embellishments, the writing on the windows and front door. Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie Patisserie, the signs read. Open every day.

Félix looked at her blankly, putting two and two together. “Is this your house?”

“Very perceptive of you,” Marinette said, taking out her keys and fumbling with the lock. And then, as she opened the door and turned on the lights for both of them, “Wait here. No, not outside, it’s cold.”

“You know,” he tried to joke as he stepped in, “I don’t usually go home with a girl on the first date.”

“Have you even been on a first date?”

Félix paused, and for a brilliant moment Marinette glanced back at him, apologetic, as though afraid that she’d actually hurt his feelings. “That is,” he said as he gathered his words, “far beyond the point.”

She gave him one of those up-and-down looks again. “Then should I be honored to be the first?” she asked dryly, slipping behind the counters toward a room in the back.

“That depends.” He leaned forward on the counter, took in the brick backsplash and the empty shelves and cases. “Do you consider this one?”

Marinette’s answer was little more than a scoff as she disappeared behind the door, and within a few minutes returned with two small white paper bags and two paper cups in a tray. If he looked close enough, he could see steam rising through the holes in each of the lids.

“Let’s go,” she said, thrusting the bags into his hands before he—or either of them, really—could do or say anything else. And if he looked close enough again, in the time that she allowed him to add a splash of milk, he could have sworn there was a dusting of light pink on the tops of her cheeks.

In spite of that earlier quip, Marinette was probably right about not entrusting an itinerary to him. He barely knew the first thing about these arrondissements, or why anyone would ever refer to them by only their numbers, and he certainly didn’t know what the bus system was like. But then, he barely knew what any bus system was like. He’d even only been on the tube a couple of times, and he’d been so young then, and his father had been the one to take him…

His father…

His expression must have gone sour as they waited at the bus station, because Marinette sighed and sipped her coffee and said, “I get it. It’s not exactly glamorous. But it’s running, so that’s what we’re going to use.”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” he replied simply, and when the bus pulled in she did him the courtesy of giving him a window seat in the back. Sure, the fact that they were seated backwards made him a bit nauseous at first, and sure, the cushion design was absolutely hideous, but seeing the city like this… all this electric contrasted against the dark, the brightly colored signs… well. It did beat staying at that stuffy hotel and that stuffy party. At least, for a blessed half-hour or so, it was quiet here.

“Still haven’t told me where we’re going,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’m aware.” There was a pause, and under the roar of the bus, Marinette let out a breathless laugh. “You’re just going to have to trust me, huh?”

Félix rested his chin in his hand, smiled grimly into his palm. “How tragic.”

———

“Well, what do you think?”

“It’s…” Félix began, except the only way he knew how to end his sentence was, “empty.”

Well, it wasn’t terribly empty. There were a few people scattered here and there across what Marinette had called the Trocadéro, but not nearly enough to warrant a celebration. Most of them were talking in small clusters or taking pictures together over some festive music booming in the distance, and still more of them were, more frequently, walking away from the plaza and trying to get somewhere else. At least the place was well-lit for a nighttime spot, and the black-and-white pattern on the ground was pleasantly geometric. But Marinette seemed to be getting comfortable here, on a set of nearby steps, and Félix, having nowhere else to go, could do nothing but follow her.

“You know,” he said, “this wasn’t exactly how I expected my year to end. If you understand what I’m getting at.”

“Do I understand?” she replied. Her words were surprisingly soft, and she hugged her knees to her chest, cradling her cup in both hands and staring out at the park below, and the Eiffel Tower just beyond.

Félix took a seat beside her. In spite of how cold and rigid the steps were, he had to admit, the view from where they were sitting was stunning; it gave them an almost-perfect display of whatever light-show the tower had on, and he was sure that if it were daytime, he might spend more than his fair share walking about the park and the fountains in sight. “When you agreed to get me out of the hotel,” he said, “I assumed you were going to take me to some… some… uncouth party, with flashing lights and earsplitting music.” He set aside his own coffee, thankfully still warm, and the paper bags she’d left in his charge. “Isn’t that how people like you end the year?”

Marinette turned to him; if she was offended, it was difficult to tell. “You don’t know very much about people like me, do you? You don’t know me at all.”

“Then why get me out of there in the first place? Was it really because you hold so much disdain for that Rossi girl? Or because you thought I owed you something?”

“Because you needed kindness,” she said sharply, as if she’d be better off never hearing that name again, and as if that should have been just as obvious. “And because it seemed like you thought I did, too. And, if you weren’t aware, people like me think almost everyone deserves kindness. And everyone deserves to have their mind changed.”

Félix stopped, held his breath, took a moment to realize he was even doing it. Almost everyone deserved kindness. Of course he’d heard that before, countless times. From his mother, who took him in her arms and set him on her lap after he’d been teased and rejected one too many times on the playground. From his father, who always made it a point to dig around in his pocket for spare change for any homeless person they might see. Everyone deserved kindness, his father said, because everyone was fighting some kind of battle. Everyone deserved kindness, his mother said, because eventually kindness came around to give you the things you deserve, and—best of all—it came at no cost.

“Well?” Marinette said, resting her chin on her knees. “Was I wrong?”

“No.” He shook his head. It was easier to say when he wasn’t looking at her. When he was looking at the lights instead. “No, you weren’t wrong.”

Out of the corner of his eye, she shrugged, but something in the air about her told him she might be smiling, even if to herself. “I just figured you’d spent so much time around people that you might want to get away from them without getting caught. And I figured you wouldn’t want to do dumb tourist-y stuff like go on the Seine or ride one of those nighttime tour buses.” She nodded toward the tower, then pointed in another direction. “But if a party’s what you want, then there’s one over on the Champ de Mars, and there’s one by the Arc de Triomphe. Just say the word and we’ll get walking.”

Félix chewed his lip, basked in the temperate silence between them, and finally decided to busy himself with poking through the paper bags. Inside were them two croissants—one almond, one chocolate. He looked up from the back, and found Marinette hugging herself even tighter, as though she were trying to make herself even smaller than she already was. “I suppose,” he said, getting comfortable and offering her the bag with the chocolate croissant, “that I could do with knowing you.”

Marinette sighed and scooted a little closer to take it, and Félix counted that as a win. “For what it’s worth,” she added, “You do still owe me, and I wouldn’t wish Lila on anyone. So I guess i’m not totally opposed to you using her as a bargaining chip.”

“She wouldn’t be the first.”

She rolled her eyes. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“So.” Delicately, he tore open his own bag at the crease, making a temporary placemat as he unwrapped the almond croissant. “What was a girl like you doing strolling the streets of Paris so late at night?”

“I’m electing not to take a girl like me as an insult.” Marinette was bouncing one knee far too fast for her own good, and only stopped to tear her pastry into smaller pieces, to lick the chocolate from her thumb. “I was with some friends. A couple of them were holding a party on their houseboat.”

“Hm.” Félix paused to sip his coffee. “Now who’s fancy?”

Marinette snorted. “More like chaotic. Their mom partied harder than any of us. Said you have to end the year with a proper bang.” She paused, smiled faintly as if remembering the scene. “She’s fun. They’re fun.”

“Then… why did you leave?”

As soon as he asked, the air around her seemed to depress itself. Her lashes lowered, and she focused entirely too much on eating, and she went pigeon-toed, sitting there. Eventually, she said, “Low social battery, I guess you could say. And…”

Félix tilted his head, and when he spoke, he didn’t think his voice could ever go so… soft. “And?”

Marinette sighed deeply, finally turned to look at him. “I know I’m risking something by asking you about, you know, human emotion,” she said, just barely joking before she sobered up again. “But do you ever feel like… like you’re in a room full of everyone you know, and you’re still lonely? And suffocating? And you need to get out just to be you, for a little bit?”

By now, he’d finished his food, and he gestured for her to give him her empty bag and cup. “And just why do you think I asked you to get me out of that party?”

She looked taken aback for a moment, scanning him up and down with her eyes, and she was staring at him even as he came back to sit with her again. “So I guess we’re just… lonely together. On New Year’s Eve.”

“I suppose we are.” Félix stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I suppose I can’t say I mind.”

Under the light of the Trocadéro plaza, it looked like, perhaps, Marinette didn’t mind, either. And under that same light, if only for a moment or two, Félix suspended his belief in shallow niceties.

———

“This is the way the year ends,” Félix said, more to the gardens and the tower and the festivities than to Marinette. “Not with a bang, but a whimper.”

“Who said that?” Marinette asked, smiled faintly. “Those words are too pretty to be yours.”

So she could warm up even to someone like him after all. “T.S. Eliot,” he said. “I just changed the words a bit. You should read him sometime.”

He didn’t know how long they’d been sitting out here. Long enough for his hands and the tip of his nose to catch a chill, but not so long that he’d be any kind of missed. Briefly, he wondered how long that would take—if anyone would miss him at all.

He checked his phone. 11:00, and the plaza was entirely empty.

So this really was the way the year ended. Not with choruses and flashing lights and a single glass of champagne form a popped bottle, but with the quiet and the cold and, surprisingly even to himself, a girl to keep him company.

“Can I ask you something strange?” he asked to break the silence.

Marinette looked at him sideways. She was incredibly good at that, it appeared. “You’re on thin ice,” she murmured over the distant music. “But go on.”

He couldn’t believe he was even asking this. “You’re not so—” No, he wouldn’t say it that way. She wasn’t foolish. She’d proved that enough times tonight. Perhaps a bit naïve, and golden-hearted enough to confuse him still, but not foolish. He cleared his throat, tried again. “You don’t still carry those feelings for my cousin, do you? After all this time?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, but not without stiffening just a touch. She was probably hoping it wasn’t noticeable, but she couldn’t have known he had the eyes of an illusionist. The kind that saw everything and unraveled everyone else’s tricks on sight while still hiding his own. “Félix,” she cooed, and this time she really was joking, but the pit of his stomach warmed anyway, and he wished, for just a few seconds, that she might say his name like that again. “I’m flattered, but not interested.”

“Oh, come off it,” he shot back. “That’s hardly why I’m asking.”

“Well,” she said, “To answer your question, that depends. You’re not still a jackass, are you? After all this time?”

He folded his arms. “I’d like to think that sort of characteristic is subjective and employable only when necessary. And I wouldn’t consider this to be one of the times it is.”

Marinette was quiet for a moment, tapping her fingers against her knees in a rhythm he couldn’t quite place. “Not that it’s any of your business,” she said, “but no. Not anymore.”

“I see.” He gave her a faint nod. “Good for you. No point in wasting your time on endeavors bound to go nowhere, is there?”

She didn’t answer, and for a moment he was, to his own surprise, afraid that he’d been the one to hurt her feelings this time. But it seemed that Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng was nothing if not resilient, and she got to her feet, pacing the plaza just behind him. “Well,” she said, “now it’s my turn to ask you something strange.”

Félix flinched and braced himself, tuned into her every step. “Go on.”

“Why…” Her steps paused, and she brushed back some hair that the wind blew across her face when she turned on her heel. “Why did you do that thing? With Adrien’s phone, I mean. I know it was two years ago, but…”

“That depends.” His legs were starting to get sore, and he stretched them out over the stairs. Had she really been thinking about that all this time? “Which answer would you like to hear?”

Marinette scoffed again, though it was barely audible, and began to pace again. “You got an honest one in there?”

He hummed, the businessman in his blood running warm. “Intending to use it against me somehow?”

“No,” she said simply, another smile lingering somewhere in her voice. “That’s reserved for people like you.”

She wasn’t wrong; in fact, he was sure his mother secretly prided herself on raising him that way. He just had no reason to admit to it. He followed suit, stood and nodded his head, and they began to walk the perimeter of the plaza together. “I suppose you could say I was… jealous. That we had come from such similar circumstances, and yet he was happier for it. That he had friends at all. That in spite of my uncle he opened up and went out into the world, and in spite of my mother I receded and stayed shut in.” Marinette looked at him in a manner he could only describe as incredulous, but he wasn’t fazed. “I didn’t say it was a very good reason. Only that it was one.”

She scuffed her heel against the ground, refused to look at him, and her voice went soft and small. “I didn’t know you lost your mother.”

“My father,” he corrected her. The thought of him ever losing his mother put a twinge in his heart, but he didn’t dare let his expression betray it. “He married into our family, you know. Took my mother’s last name. You could say he was the first to teach me about common folk so I wouldn’t be so out of touch, locked away all the time. Once he passed, I… started failing him.” And then, when Marinette didn’t say anything else, “What? Did you expect something more?”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, paused at the set of stairs once they reached it. “Did you expect that to excuse you?”

“No,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Forgive me for trying to do that human thing they call forging a connection.”

Whatever festivities going on in the park nearby seemed to double, and some admittedly catchy American jazz song began to play, so loud that he could actually make out some of the lyrics. Marinette seemed to perk up at the sound, and she shot him a glance. “You want to forge a connection?” she asked. “You want your chance to prove you’ve changed?”

“That is why I’m here, isn’t it?”

When he looked to Marinette, she was smiling, walking backward toward the center of the plaza, and she held her hand out to him. “Dance with me.”

His brow furrowed. Had she lost her mind? “I beg your pardon?”

“Dance with me,” she said again, more emphatically this time. She was rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet now. “You wouldn’t leave a lady alone on the floor, would you? You still owe me, don’t you?”

Perhaps they weren’t cut from such distant cloths after all. “I thought you said tactics like these were only reserved for people like me.”

“Well,” she said, “maybe I think something like this is employable only when necessary.”

“I don’t dance, you know.”

“Great.” Her smile shifted into a grin worthy even of the Cheshire Cat himself. “Neither do I.”

“Marinette,” he said, shaking his head. She’d definitely lost her mind. “What in the world are you doing?”

Her arm was still extended. “Giving you an out. Because it’s New Year’s Eve, and we’re lonely-together people, and you want a party, and I want to change my mind.” She looked at him meaningfully, then nodded toward her hand. “So are you going to take it or not?”

Félix didn’t exactly consider himself one to hesitate—it was quite possibly the only other thing he and Adrien’s fencing girl had in common. And he’d never really considered Marinette to be the business type. Tonight, for these few long-lasting seconds, he did. He took her hand before he could double back or regret it, and he tugged her all the way to the center of the Trocadéro. It wasn’t until he had both of her hands in his that he really felt how cold they were, and how soft, and how he wouldn’t be opposed to holding them a while longer. “Seems we both could do with some warming up,” he said.

Marinette’s eyes softened in the light, sparkled bright blue. Strange, how it made his stomach turn so. “Lead the way.”

He’d admit the dancing was clumsy at first; nothing like the ballroom lessons he’d been put up to so many times before. At best, they were two fools doing some simple two-step, back and forth, side to side, and she was leading far more where he should have been. But there were no rules here, no witnesses to look like a fool for, nothing to manipulate and no one to trick. And when he held Marinette at arm’s length and twirled her over and over, she wasn’t just tolerating him. She was enjoying him. She was smiling, glowing, and her cheeks were as pink as her peacoat, and whatever dark cloud had imposed itself on her presence was starting to disappear, little by little. And he was doing this human, infinite thing. And he was human, infinite, too.

He saw her as the music was dying, as she stumbled and he caught her. Not Marinette. I-Love-You Girl. Wherever she had gone before, she was back now, and that breathless smile was his to remember. And he’d never delete it.

“Looks like two years did you some good after all.” she said, letting go of his hands. And then, “What? What are you looking at me like that for?”

Félix shook his head. “Nobody misses me,” he said, entirely unshaken, “and my cousin is a complete idiot, and I couldn’t care less.”

———

He did her the courtesy of dancing to two more songs after that, until she was flushed in the face and out of breath, and at ten minutes to the New Year, they took the steps down from the plaza and cut through the gardens. They’d probably be stranded here until well after midnight, with every bar and street party starting to clear out. But Marinette had said the buses would be running until 2:00, and from the way she kept bumping into him even with intermittent apologies, he came to mind the prospect of taking one less and less.

“I have one more thing I wanna ask you,” she said. The further they got into the gardens, the louder the music became, and she tugged him away by the sleeve of his coat, where they could walk and talk more quietly. Where he could measure words and ineffable feeling by the slow click of her boots.

He spared her a look, and only that, despite the twitch in his fingers that told him to brush her hair out of her eyes, despite the tension in his arm that told him to pull her out of the way, just in case. He did neither, and said, “I’m listening.”

“Why did you ask me about Adrien?” For some reason, the question rang out louder than anything else he’d heard that night, but Marinette didn’t stop. He had to wonder if she was even capable of it; she only paused when he did, and even then she was a few paces ahead. “I mean, you probably know about Kagami, so. I’m not so sure why whatever I feel—”

“Forgive me,” he said, unmoving, watching her from a distance. “I merely thought that someone who thinks everyone deserves kindness should deserve some of it returned.”

Marinette opened her mouth. Closed it. Open and closed, again. She tucked back those flyaway hairs he’d been tempted to touch. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Only…” She looked softer in the streetlight, more than she had in the alleyway, more than she had on the bus, even more than she had under the light of the Trocadéro plaza. A part of him wanted to savor it, carry it into the new year; another part of him was mortified to have felt so, and determined to cover it up. He found the middle ground and steeled himself, his hands in his pockets, clenching out the softness of her fingers that still lingered there. “Only that it would be foolish to let that kindness go to waste. Those feelings.” He pressed his lips together, caution bleeding into his stare. “You’ve proven that you’re far too smart for that.”

Perhaps this was, aside from the dancing, aside from that video, the most vulnerable he had ever seen her: standing on the sides of her feet, looking away with a blush that was as demure as it was flattered. Something about her, so still and listening for the countdown, told him that she must have been telling herself this for ages. “That’s how I know you never really knew me,” she joked hollowly. “Just saying things to butter people up, huh.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Félix took one step forward, and then another. “Well,” he said, “if that’s really how you feel, then… I did say I could do with knowing you. I don’t intend to take that back now.” He flicked his gaze up toward her as they stood toe-to-toe, close enough for them to hold each other’s breaths, far enough for him to back off. “What do you say?”

Marinette looked at him like she was expecting him to hold out his hand again. Skeptical. She folded her arms. “Is this some kind of deal?”

“I’d like to think,” he said, “that by now we’ve moved past transactions.”

Before she could respond, a resounding cheer from down the way caught their attention, a chorus of people beginning to count down from sixty. Félix wondered if it must have sounded the same back at the Grand Paris, or if they were simply waiting for the clock to turn over, waiting to applaud the new year by way of greeting.

She turned back to him. “One minute left,” she said, and if he strained his ear it might sound like she was… regretting it. “Well? Did I waste my kindness on you, too?”

“You’re the one with the ‘gut feeling,’” he replied with a shrug and a set of air quotes. “Did you waste the honor of a first date on me, too?”

“This wasn’t a date.” Thirty seconds. She rolled her eyes. “This was a second impression.”

“Not a bad second impression.”

“How would you know?”

“You’re smiling,” he said. “Your eyes are smiling.”

Marinette held her breath, watched him cautiously. She wasn’t quite the girl from the alleyway, wasn’t quite I-Love-You Girl. She hung somewhere in the balance, eyes soft, stance open, even as the hint of an actual smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

He took his hand out of his pocket, let it hover at the small of her back without actually touching her. “Would it be a date if I kissed you?” he asked. He didn’t know why he was breathing the words. He only knew why he was asking. “Or would it just be tradition?”

She snorted. “And waste a New Year’s kiss on you?”

He raised an eyebrow and both hands, took a couple of steps back. “You thought you wasted a lot of things on me. Why would I stop you now?”

Marinette moved forward, reached for him by the front of his coat and tugged him in with a force that made him stumble. “Oh, get over here,” she murmured over the roar of the street party, standing up on her toes and pressing her mouth to his just as the countdown hit one.

Sure, Félix had admitted to never having been on a first date, but he’d never admit that he hadn’t ever been kissed either. He stumbled again, his hand finding purchase at her back—for real this time—and in the sudden deafening quiet of the park his body went stiff and his stomach began to turn. He felt every sharp thing he’d ever seen in her, warm and searing—the biting comments, the limits, every little thing that put him in his place—and he fully expected her to rip herself away from him and ask if he was happy now. Instead, all that edge began to fade, and gradually she went lax under his touch. She stood back on her feet, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him with her, let him find and follow the rhythm of her lips. Let him feel the dancing again. And when she finally moved back, she didn’t stray too far. In fact, she was still holding onto him. Like she was considering giving him another.

“Oh,” she rasped. He couldn’t even tell if her eyes were open or closed. If they were still smiling. If I-Love-You Girl was standing in front of him instead.

He didn’t dare move. “What?”

“You have changed. You’re real.”

He wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. But before he could say anything, she gingerly tapped his chest, stepped out of his grasp, brushed her fingers against her lips before jamming her hands in her pockets.

“How long before you go back to London?” she asked.

“That depends,” he said, all breathy words again. He could still feel the kiss on him. Kicked himself for wanting to feel it again. “If you wanted to see me again, would it a first date, or a second?”

“Let’s go,” Marinette said with a joking shove and a tug toward the bus station. And as they pushed through the crowds she grabbed his hand, and as they rode the bus back she leaned on his shoulder and watched the city die down with him, and before he made it to the lobby of the Grand Paris she pulled him into the dark for one more kiss goodnight. It was well past midnight, and the kiss was quicker than the last, but he returned it anyway, lonely-together with her for those last few seconds.

“If they don’t chew you out in there,” she said, “meet me at the Trocadéro tomorrow at 11.”

Félix raised a brow. “For what? Another second impression?”

Marinette smiled. There wasn't very much I-Love-You Girl lingering there, but he supposed he liked her better that way. “For a second date.”

[queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm]

The Most Vibriant Color In the Rainbow (Jasonette)

Red. It was in your veins, it’s the color of fire and the setting sun. Red was the color of France’s superhero. A heroine that was wilting like a rose. She was hanging on by a thread and the Fates seemed so very tempted to snip it. There, in the shadow of the heroine’s mantel, lies a girl who is just fighting to not have her voice stolen from her again.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was that same hero, but she was so much more than that. She was an artist, a daughter, a designer, a partner, and a friend. Marinette knew exactly how to fix any problem that came her way no matter how bad of odds there were. She came, she saw, and she conquered every challenge that dared come between her and her goals. All Marinette wanted to do was love. So the question is, what happened to the Marinette everyone knew?

Away with the firecracker that was Marinette, anew with a pale imitation of the beautiful girl. She moves mechanically, every step she takes she’s made a thousand times over. All of this because of the Antichrist herself, Lila Rossi, made good on her promise to herd the sheep into her flock. The sound of crocodile tears could be heard ringing through the classroom, “W-why are you s-so mean? I-I just w-wanted a dress f-for the dance!”

Marinette stared at the Italian woman with a glare that could kill, “And I told you, I cant. I have my responsibilities and you have your ‘responsibilities’ we’re both busy people. Your universe may revolve around Lila, but mine revolves around me. It’s sad that you think you can guilt trip me into doing something I don’t want to do when you and I aren’t friends. Call me mean all you want, but I won’t care. You and everyone else in this class mean absolutely nothing to me. I do what I have to do to survive and you are a shepherd to week sheep. It’s unfortunate for you that you would ever think I would fall in line for you.”

A hush fell over the room. No one expected Marinette to clap-back against Lila, but more so that she would speak with no emotion backing her. Lila, stunned silent, forgot to keep crying. Ladybug doesn’t let anyone treat her like a stepping stone, so why should Marinette? Marinette is Ladybug inside and outside of the mask. She just puts the mask’s responsibilities more important than Marinette’s happiness. An obnoxious girl with glasses broke the silence, “W-What d-did you say?”

“You heard me, Alya, we are not friends. You chose the shiny new toy over truth. I want nothing to do with unreliable sources,” The tone she used was deadly, “something you do a lot. It’s no wonder why Ladybug stopped endorsing your blog. It’s such a shame that you chose someone who Ladybug has publicly claimed has no connection to her over the one who got you your interviews. Or did you forget, that I’m the one who actually knows Ladybug and is friends with?”

Everything stopped. No one breathed, blinked, or moved. You don’t know fear until the wrath of the Cheng family befalls you. Though they might not have the resources, or so you think, (A/N: I headcannon that the Dupain Chengs are rich bc they are the best bakers in Paris, plus why would Gabriel or Aubrey let their children go into public school.) The Cheng family held themselves with a an air of respect without even trying. Marinette maybe wilting due to the weight of the world, but she would not crumble to the will of uneducated teenagers.

Red. That is the color of vengeance, anger, and blood. Red is the color of Gotham’s vigilante. A zombie of a man trying to rebuild what was once his life. Across an ocean there is a boy that just had his world turn upside down. He died an incredibly gruesome death and had he thought no one mourned his loss.

Jason Todd was Red Hood, the loose cannon of Gotham. Everyone thought the pit had taken him to the place of no return. That his mind was the problem. Yes, the pit madness made his angry, but it didn’t make him lose his mind entirely. Behind his anger, Jason was just a boy taken too soon and then mutilated for other people’s benefit. He craved physical affection. He pleaded for trust. He needs his father to tell him he loves him.

Red Hood stayed out during patrol to clear his head. He looked down on the city while perched on a high rise. It usually calmed the voices in his head, tonight they seemed restless. Jason wished for silence, he felt oppressed by the dreariness of the city. Something in his heart told him that this isn’t where he was meant to be. The voices told him to jump off the high rise and to the voices Jason responded with a kind, “Thanks Karen, but fuck right off.”

No stars could be seen due to the pollution of Gotham, but the moonlight shone on Red Hood. He stared at the moon, deep in thought, “Where would I even go?” He asked himself, “Who would want me?”

Not even the voices wanted to hear him talk about him, “Paris,” they whispered.

“Why Paris?” Paris? What’s so specials about Paris?

“Trust us,” the voices responded, “there’s something you won’t want to miss.”

Jason filed that under the folder titled ‘Another question for the therapist that I don’t have.’ He couldn’t deny the pull he felt towards Paris no matter how hard he tried. There was no reason to go though, but there was no reason to stay either. They were all fine without him before why would this time be different?

It was then Jason was reminded the coms were still on and that Tim was an insomniac, “Paris? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it Timmy. I’m just thinking about taking a vacation. Don’t tell B yet, I’m not sure I should even go,” He knew it wasn’t Tim’s fault, but he couldn’t help but feel that familiar tingle of resentment towards his brother. He shook the feeling away, “I just need a breath, Gotham seems to have me dying all over again.”

Tim reassured Jason that his secret was to be kept between the two of them. The feeling was still gnawing at his being on the way back to his apartment. Red Hood, the light hearted jokester, the one who needed to be restrained, a smiling pillar to the magnifying glass that was Bruce and Dick, was lonely. The question was: is he lonely enough to leave? The answer is yes. Jason is tried of being the second thought, he’s tired of having to report in, and he’s tired of the way the voices take up space in his mind when there’s no company to talk to.

Paris, be prepared. Red is coming to your city and it’s going to become a color of change. Red will paint the streets. Red is going to cause Hawkmoth to rethink if his antics are really worth the price tag that follows.

A/N: Marinette is 19 and Jason is only 20. This could be a series of this is something you all would want to read. I’m a sucker for Jasonette and I love the Maribat genre in general. Please let me know if you want to be tagged also! Thank you all for reading and supporting me!

Tags: @abrx2002 @amayakans @mystery-5-5 @normal-piece-of-shit @st0rmy-w1th1n @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @g-arya @smolplantmum @rayray384 @rosa97 @drarryismylife101 @kris-pines04 @black-streak @storyteller-d @weird-pale-blonde-person

[minetteenfers]

Is There Any Life On Mars?

Warning: Suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety, hurt and comfort ahead

Marinette sat in her bedroom with her head in her hands and her sketchbook open. Deep lines of blue ink raked across the page in a haphazard. Some of the lines cut deep through the pages like she had poured her anger and sadness into each gouge and cut. Tears coated the pages in places and she was so tired, exhausted, and her legs didn’t want to work. Her soul was heavy and her heart ached. Her faded blue eyes burned from hours of crying. She had no one. No one wanted to be her friend anymore, since Lila spilled the rumors about her. She didn’t feel good enough at her so-called talents. Didn’t have the motivation to try anymore.

She breathed in a shaky breath that rattled before silently crying again. She just wanted to end it, wanted the pain in her chest to stop. Wanted the claws around her throat to stop gripping it and making it so hard to breathe in one breath of fresh air. Her parents were upset at her, the school was upset at her, her friends hated her, and Adrien was with Kagami. Nothing mattered to her anymore. Nothing.

And one mistake landed Ladybug to be seen as a disappointment. She flung her head down into her folded arms and burst into silent tears again, unaware that she had more to give after hours of torment. Her stomach flipped as the tears stained her arms. She could just end it all. She could move away where everyone would love her. Where she could make new friends and maybe her old friends would love her again if she was successful. If she just sold everything and made a new life for herself. If she made up a new identity and dyed her hair. If she wore bolder fashion choices and was more outgoing. If she just tried a little harder to be like everyone else.

She gripped her hair and slammed her elbows down on her desk. The negative thoughts plagued her mind and kept doing circles. She was scared. Scared that she would end it right here and right now.

Marinette peered up at her ceiling with trembling lips, raking her hands down her face and gripping her forearms to dig her nails into her soft flesh. She wanted out. Wanted out of her life and body. Wanted to be loved like Adrien did Kagami. She wanted to be her. Wanted someone to accept her for being herself and at this point, she doubted that anyone ever would.

A light tapping on her skylight made her perk up. She quickly rubbed the tears away and sniffed, standing up and going to hide when she heard the small trap door opening.

“Princess?” A familiar voice called out and she panted beneath her desk with her knees to her chest. “Are you in here? Sorry to drop in, I was just- I heard that some people were worried about you.”

“ No one is worried about me .” Her voice came out groggy and weak.

“Well…” Chat leaped down and crouched down to smile at her. “I’m worried about you.”

“Why?” She kept her face buried in her folded arms. “Why do you care? I’m a liar and- and I screwed up.”

“You didn’t screw up, Marinette. And you’re not a liar.” Chat sighed and sat down on the floor with his legs criss-crossed.

“You don’t know that. You hang out with Ladybug, who screwed up, and now the world hates her too.” Marinette burst out into tears and flung her hand up, cursing when she smacked it against the underside of her desk. “Ow.”

“Well, I think I know you a bit and you are the most honest person I know.” Chat shrugged and gripped his shin. “Hey, want to vent about it? I won’t tell anyone. Scouts honor.” He gestured to solidify it and his ears went back when he noticed she didn’t giggle like she used to. “I’m sorry, Princess. Talk to me.” He leaned forward to crawl closer, poking her shoulder. “Please? I don’t like to see you so upset.” He purred and nudged her shoulder with his head. “Please?”

She shoved him slightly, “Would you stop being such a cat?”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” Chat curled up beside her and peered up at her.

“I- Lila told the school that I was a liar and that I had done all of these horrible things. Like I had pushed her in the hallway and threatened her in the bathroom. That I had told her horrible things that I didn’t say. And- and instead of my best friends taking my side-” Marinette burst into tears and spoke with her hands. “-they believed her over me. BUT SHE’S THE LIAR! Not me.” Marinette poked her chest with her fingers. “-I got in trouble with the school and in turn my parents. And then- then I find out that the love of my life is dating this girl that has threatened me. I- my heart can’t take it. I’m tired. So tired. I can’t draw. I’m uninspired and all I wanna do is sit and cry. I’m empty and sad. I’m worthless. I-” She peered up at Chat with swollen red eyes and trembling lips. “-Tell me, is there any life on Mars?”

Chat stared at her with a sad expression, and she burst out with an irritated sound. “I could move away and make a new life for myself. I could change my hair color and name. I could get new friends! I could just end it all and no one would care. No one would care if I just disappeared. ”

Chat’s eyes widened at her last comment and he suddenly was up and yanking her into his lap. He held her and ran his fingers through her hair. “Never say that. Never tell me those words. You are Marinette Dupain-Cheng, amazing designer, and my close friend. You are not worthless or a liar and a whole… bunch of people would care if you were gone. Me included.”

“ I need help .” Marinette weakly admitted that she needed to see a therapist. She needed someone to save her from herself and she hated to admit that. She peered up at him with dark rings beneath her eyes. “ Help me .”

Chat Noir nodded and lifted her, taking her out the trap door and across Paris to a place that he knew would help her. She would be lying if she wasn’t scared of the bold name outside of the therapy building that seemed to try to promote hope. She'd be lying if she wasn’t afraid of what it meant to make an appointment there. That it would solidify the fact that she really was insane and needed help. That she-

Her thoughts got distracted as a familiar soft, leather-coated, hand curled around hers. “It’s okay. It’s okay to need help. We all need it. I’ll get help too. Just not today. Tomorrow morning.” He kissed the top of her head and nodded for her to step forward towards the door.

Marinette’s hand slowly fell from his as she nervously walked towards the door. “I’m scared.” The words fell from her lips in a trembled whisper.

“I know, but you’re gonna be okay. You’re not just the most honest girl I know? You’re also the strongest. It’s all going to be okay and they’ll help you. The real trick is… you need to want help for it to work and I think you do.” Chat weakly smiled and watched her nod and leave inside.

***

Marinette walked into group therapy, expecting it to be just as awkward as the day she first showed up. Her heart raced and her anxiety ran rampant. Thoughts spiraled again in her mind as she worried about everyone liking her. She thought they would all find her to be a liar anyway. She didn’t want to sit by anyone. She didn’t want to speak. She just wanted to leave and run away. She sighed and peered up from her shoes and froze in her spot. A familiar boy with golden hair sat in a chair and he seemed to perk up when he saw her.

She looked around herself, unsure of whether it was really her that he was talking to. I mean he was famous, he was Adrien Agreste, it could be anyone. She was wondering if she was dreaming. If this was even a reality.

He pat the chair beside him and she blushed, excusing herself through the circle of chairs to sit beside him.

She placed her hand between the chairs to grip the edge, a nervous tic she had picked up, as more people filed in. Adrien slowly took her hand into his and brushed his thumb along the back of her hand to calm her down.

He warmly smiled at her, catching her panicked gaze with his, and whispered words that she never thought would come out of the love of her life’s mouth. “Hey, Bugaboo. Is there any life on Mars?”

Bookmark it or kudo it here if you want. :)

Story inspired by this song that I’m obsessed with:

[angelofthequeers]

Checkmate

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Ladybug: the episode where the A-plot sucks ass and the B-plot shines.

Summary: After making his deal with the devil to clear Marinette's name in 'Ladybug', Adrien seeks the help of Kagami to take Lila down. Lila really should've taken him seriously when he'd told her not to mess with his friends...

AO3 link

“So, you made a deal with the devil.”

“What? No!” Adrien splutters. Kagami just raises an eyebrow from next to him on the locker room bench. “Okay…yeah…maybe…”

“And now you want me to get you out of it.”

“I don’t need you to save me.” Adrien digs his fingers into the material of his fencing pants. “Just…help me figure out how to out Lila. I don’t know how to prove that she lied.”

“Why now?” Kagami says, fiddling with her ring. “Why not literally any other time before now? When I was akumatised? When she was only just starting to spread her influence? Back when Ladybug outed her in front of you? You’ve known she’s a liar all this time.”

“I didn’t think her lies would hurt anyone, okay?” Adrien says. “And I didn’t want her to get akumatised again. I thought she’d just get herself caught in them and out herself. I didn’t think she’d go so far as to get Marinette expelled…”

“Or get me akumatised for the second time,” Kagami says. Adrien can’t quite tell whether there’s an accusation in there.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m a dick. That should’ve been the snapping point for me, but all I did was warn her to stay away from you and my other friends.”

“Yes. That should’ve been the snapping point for you.”

When Kagami doesn’t say anything more, Adrien frowns at her. “So…?”

“So what?”

“Will you help me?”

Kagami sighs. “As annoyed as I am at you, Marinette’s my friend and Lila’s still out for her blood. I’ll help you. Besides, I still owe Lila after that photograph stunt that she pulled.”

Adrien’s shoulders slump. “Thank you, Kagami.”

“Don’t thank me yet. We have to manoeuvre Lila into a corner by getting proof from someone who could irrefutably call out her lies. And for that, we need the help of a certain someone.”

.

“Me? Help Dupain-Cheng?” Chloé scoffs. She dabs the final bit of green nail polish onto Sabrina’s pinky finger, then screws the brush back into the bottle while Sabrina fans her nails dry. “Adrikins, you know I’d do anything for you –”

“It’s not just for Marinette,” Adrien says. “I’m the reason Marinette’s back at school. I had to make Lila fix the mess somehow.”

Chloé narrows her eyes. “Adrien Agreste,” she says slowly, “what did you do?”

“Is that why Lila was in that photoshoot with you?” Sabrina pipes up. She immediately scoops up the bottle of scarlet nail polish when Chloé extends her hand.

“Well…yeah,” Adrien says. “Lila asked why she should help Marinette. I…might have made a deal to be her friend if she did.”

Chloé blinks. Then she blinks again, and then she pinches the bridge of her nose with her free hand.

“Of all the utterly ridiculous – Adrien, you should’ve come to me in the first place! I might hate Dupain-Cheng, but if I’d known you were going to sell your soul for her –”

“Enough with the lectures, alright?” Adrien says. “I got enough of that from Kagami when I asked her for help.”

“Tsurugi?” Chloé wrinkles her nose.

“Yeah. What’s your problem with her?”

“Nothing, nothing. Look, alright, I’ll help you expose Liar Rossi. I owe her for that time she utterly humiliated me, anyway.”

“And you know I’m with you too!” Sabrina says.

“Yes, we’ll probably need you to make sure that such a busy diplomat is available when we need her,” Chloé says and Sabrina beams.

“You’re the best, Chlo,” Adrien says. Chloé smiles rather smugly.

“Oh, no need for flattery, Adrikins. Just meet me at school tomorrow with Tsurugi. The more kids of rich and powerful parents we have, the better.”

.

“Look, I’m not sure –” Mr Damocles tries to say.

“You haven’t even investigated how those answers got into Marinette’s backpack,” Kagami says with crossed arms. “Or the necklace into her locker. And if Marinette didn’t take them, it stands to reason that someone planted them.”

“Which is exactly what she said before you expelled her,” Adrien says.

“You heard Miss Rossi – she has a very rare disease –”

Kagami snorts. “She doesn’t have a disease. She’s a compulsive liar. No disease is making her do all this. And for that matter, why does Lila get to claim any of this with no proof?”

“We pride ourselves on believing our students, Miss Tsurugi.”

“Like you believed Marinette?” Adrien mirrors Kagami’s crossed arms. “I even tried to point out that Lila was lying, and you wouldn’t hear it.”

“Have you even consulted her mother?” Kagami says. “With as many illnesses as Lila has, the logical thing to do would be to seek extra advice on accommodating her. And as far as I know, every other disabled or chronically ill student has to have supporting paperwork.”

“Miss Rossi’s had a very hard time –”

Chloé scoffs. “Wait, so you’ve got this ridiculous rule that someone has to prove they’re disabled or sick, and you don’t even hold Lila to that rule? Incompetent, utterly incompetent!”

“Miss Bourgeois, please –” But Mr Damocles is wilting under the three-pronged attack of Adrien, Kagami, and Chloé.

“I’m sure my daddy would simply love to hear about this,” Chloé says. “Expelling one student and not believing her, while believing another student because of a sob story! No one will want to send their students here if they hear that.”

“Especially if the son of famous fashion designer Gabriel Agreste and daughter of renowned fencer Tomoe Tsurugi happened to lend their support to Chloé,” Kagami says.

“No! No! Please!” Mr Damocles babbles. Excellent. Now they’ve got him where they want him. “What do you three want?”

“For you to call Mrs Rossi,” Adrien says. “We want to talk to her about Lila.”

“I don’t think I can just –” Mr Damocles says. Chloé pulls out her phone. “Okay! Okay! I’ll call her!”

“And I think we should move this to the classroom,” Chloé says. “I’m sure the other peasants would love to hear this. But don’t tell Lila what’s going on or she’ll lie her way out of it.”

“But –”

Chloé starts to dial a number.

“Alright!”

The four of them head for Ms Bustier’s classroom. Class has already started, so Ms Bustier is in the process of writing on the board, and she beams when they enter the room.

“Ah, Adrien! Chloé! I was wondering where you two were!” she says. “I thought Sabrina would be with you, but I suppose she’s just sick or late.” Her brow furrows when she catches sight of Kagami. “Aren’t you in Ms Mendeleiev’s class?”

Kagami just stares right back.

“How rude,” Mr Damocles tuts.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kagami says. “But since no respect was shown to Marinette when she was accused of cheating and stealing, I didn’t think I needed to show any in return. I wasn’t aware that it was common practice in France to humiliate a student in front of their entire class over an accusation rather than pulling them aside quietly.”

The way Marinette’s eyes light up at this defence of her leaves Adrien’s insides warm and fluttery. He never realises just how much he treasures that light until it’s gone. Watching her nearly give in to Hawkmoth is probably one of the most horrible things he’s ever seen in his life; next to watching Ladybug get captured over and over again during his stint as Aspik or believing that his lady was dying when Mayura had summoned that Ladybug sentimonster.

“We’ve got some, uh…business to address, once our guest arrives,” Mr Damocles is saying when Adrien tunes back in. “For now, why don’t you two take your seats, Miss Bourgeois, Mr Agreste?”

“I don’t think so,” Chloé says. “We’re fine here.”

“What’s going on?” Ms Bustier says. No one answers her.

It only takes about ten minutes after that for a rather flustered Mrs Rossi to arrive, her coat thrown on hastily and haphazardly, with Sabrina in front of her.

“What a morning!” she exclaims. “Everything’s been disappearing – my keys, my purse, everything! It’s as though the universe didn’t want me to go to work today. I’m grateful that this young lady’s father offered me a lift and that she was lovely enough to guide me here.”

Sure, the universe. Or a certain redhead. Adrien peeks over at Chloé, whose smile is almost proud as Sabrina slips into her seat.

“Mamma?” Lila gasps. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Ivan says.

“Um – ahem – these students wish to talk to you about your daughter,” Mr Damocles says. Mrs Rossi’s brow furrows.

“You called me here for schoolchildren?” she says. Adrien glances at Chloé and Kagami, playing a mental game of chicken, but the look in their eyes is very clear: he got them into his mess, so he can step up.

“Sorry to trouble you, Mrs Rossi,” Adrien says. “My name’s Adrien Agreste –”

“Ah, Adrien!” Mrs Rossi’s face lights up. “My bella’s boyfriend! Lila simply can’t stop talking about you!”

“Mamma –” Lila tries to say.

“Excuse me?” Chloé says.

“His boyfriend?” Kagami adds.

“Not likely,” they chorus.

“Chloé and Kagami are right,” Adrien says. “I don’t know what Lila’s told you, but I’m not and I never have been her boyfriend.”

“But Lila wouldn’t lie to me! She’s my little angel!”

Angel. Yeah. Right. More like the devil. “Ma’am, she’s been lying since she set foot in this school,” Adrien says. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Marinette trying to conceal her incredulous smile. “She tried to lie to me about being descended from a fox superhero called Volpina. She’s been lying to our class all year.”

“She posted photos of herself kissing Adrien without his consent,” Kagami says.

“But that doesn’t sound like Lila at all…” says Mrs Rossi.

“Ahem.” Mr Damocles clears his throat. “These three raised an, uh…excellent point. Now that I’ve finally got you here, I was wondering if you could provide us with a full medical history for Miss Rossi. Purely for accommodation purposes, of course, so that we can ensure that she’s given a quality education.”

“I already told you –” Lila says.

“Medical history? Accommodations? Lila doesn’t need accommodations!” Mrs Rossi says. “She’s healthy as can be!”

“But she said she’s got tinnitus from saving Jagged Stone’s kitten on a plane runway!” Alya says. “Our whole seating arrangement was reorganised to accommodate her!”

“No, wait, it got miraculously cured by Ladybug,” Chloé says. “Her bestie.”

“Oh, and don’t forget the arthritis!” Adrien says.

“And her disease that makes her lie uncontrollably,” Mr Damocles says. “She did tell me that herself when confessing to accidentally framing Miss Dupain-Cheng for the theft of –”

“Stop! Stop!” Mrs Rossi clamps her hands over her ears. Mild guilt starts to bubble in Adrien’s gut – what is he doing, bombarding the poor woman – but his resolve is steeled at the reminder that he’s doing this for Marinette. Who was nearly akumatised and is the only other person in their school who hasn’t been akumatised, as far as he knows. The only reason she wasn’t was because of that freak scarlet akuma retreat!

“Something tells me she’s been lying to you as well,” Kagami says.

“None of this is true!” Mrs Rossi’s got a wild look in her eye, like her world is slowly unravelling around her. “Lila doesn’t have tinnitus! Or arthritis! She was never on a plane runway! What sort of irresponsible mother do you take me for?”

“She also says that she’s Ladybug’s best friend,” Adrien says. “I’ve been so worried for her ever since she said that! What if Hawkmoth targets her to get to Ladybug?”

“We keep our friendship on the downlow!” Lila protests.

“But you gave Alya an interview for her Ladyblog!” Marinette says.

“Ladybug? Lila was akumatised on her first day here!” Mrs Rossi says. “How could she be friends with Ladybug? And what were you thinking, broadcasting something like that on the internet and endangering my daughter!”

Alya swallows and looks down, blinking rapidly.

“Mamma, they’re just trying to gang up on me!” Lila’s eyes fill with crocodile tears. “Ever since Marinette was simply horrible to me –”

“Dupain-Cheng “apparently” stole test answers and Rossi’s grandmother’s necklace and pushed her down the stairs,” Chloé scoffs.

“I didn’t even touch her!” Marinette says.

“Yeah, I know,” Chloé says. “You’re disgusting. You’re a little princess. You’re the least likely person to do something like that.”

“Thank you…?”

“Lila’s grandmother’s necklace?” Mrs Rossi says.

“Yeah, it’s a fox tail!” Rose says.

“And she tried to claim that it was a Miraculous,” Adrien says. “But Ladybug called her out for lying.”

“You knew?” Nino exclaims.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I thought Lila would eventually get caught in her own lies and people would see and then she’d get to change without being humiliated. But after she got Marinette expelled?” Adrien looks Lila straight in the eye. “I know she doesn’t regret anything she’s done.”

“A Miraculous?” Mrs Rossi says. “I think I’d know if a piece of magical jewellery was a family heirloom!”

“And how could Rena Rouge be a thing if it really was a family heirloom?” Kagami says. “Everyone knows that Ladybug gets the Miraculouses from another location when she needs help. And Lila still has the fox tail necklace, which means that either Rena Rouge is an elaborate prank, or Lila’s “family heirloom” is a fake.”

Alya winces at that for some reason.

“But we’ve never had a fox tail family heirloom,” Mrs Rossi says.

“We do! Nonna just never told you!”

It really is interesting to watch Lila flail and try to protect her lies, even now that the whole class is openly staring at her with scepticism in their eyes. Huh. Adrien could get used to this. Maybe there is something to being actively involved in justice.

“I can’t believe this. I simply can’t believe this.” Mrs Rossi turns to Lila with severely squared shoulders. “You told me that the school was closed down due to akuma attacks and that’s why you missed all that school!”

“She told us that she was travelling overseas!” Rose says. “And that she was invited to Achu by Prince Ali!”

“I never said that he personally invited us!” Lila says.

“Yeah, you did,” Nathaniel says. “You just said that you didn’t get to see him.”

“Prince Ali? I’ve never even met him, and neither has Lila!” Mrs Rossi says.

“So, you really don’t know Steven Spielberg?” Nino says.

“Or Jagged Stone?” Juleka says.

“No!” Mrs Rossi says hysterically. “Why would my daughter know famous musicians and directors? I’m a diplomat, not an actor or a filmmaker!”

“Miss Rossi, I believe we have a lot to talk about,” Mr Damocles says rather coldly. “And I would like to thank Mr Agreste, Miss Bourgeois, and Miss Tsurugi for bringing this to my attention.”

Adrien tries not to snort. Yeah. Right. Mr Damocles is just trying to save face. But if it clears Marinette’s name and exposes Lila, he’ll just stay quiet for now and let Mr Damocles take this one.

“But Marinette’s been bullying me!” Lila says. “And now she’s got her friends to gang up on me too!”

But that’s apparently one lie too far.

“Marinette? Friends with Chloé?” Alya says.

“Please,” Alix snorts. “Those two would tear each other’s hair out before even looking at each other nicely.”

“I wouldn’t have helped Dupain-Cheng if Adrien hadn’t requested me personally,” Chloé drawls, examining her nails. “Sabrina, you really need to learn how to paint nails properly.”

“Sorry, Chloé!” Sabrina says.

“Come on, Lila,” Mrs Rossi snaps. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, young lady!”

Lila sniffles as she gathers her bag and treks down to the front of the classroom, with everyone’s scorching gazes on her as she passes them. Once she’s next to Adrien, she says, “How could you do this to me?”

“Because you hurt my friend,” Adrien says. His eyes move to meet Marinette’s, and she flushes brilliant red and snaps her head down to look at the desk. “Marinette’s very dear to me, and she’s not the only friend you’ve hurt. And I told you never to hurt my friends, Lila. Ever.” He leans in and whispers one word. “Checkmate.”

[the-delta-42]

Wounded

Based on This Post by @lenoreofraven

Wounded

There was a sudden gasp as the air left Ladybug’s lungs. A silver knife was embedded in her abdomen, Chat hoped that the damage was not severe or fatal. Another knife collided with Ladybug, catching her on the right side of her chest, causing her to topple over. The Akuma laughed as they approached Ladybug, as she was trying to crawl away from the Akuma, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.

“Running won’t save you, Bug.” Sneered the Akuma, grabbing Ladybug by the throat and lifting her off her feet.

Ladybug kicked at the Akuma, before they threw her into a wall. As the impact occurred, Ladybug’s transformation dropped, revealing her identity to everyone. The Akuma smirked, before stomping up to Marinette’s prone form, as she coughed up blood. Marinette tried to push the Akuma away, only for him to grab her arm and tear it from her shoulder. The Akuma stomped hard on Marinette’s chest, causing her to cough up more blood. The Akuma looked at the girls dismembered arm and tossed it aside, before raining blows down on the unmoving girl.

There were cries, yells and wails from the crowd.

But one was the loudest.

“MARINETTE!” Screamed Kagami, as her girlfriend started choking on her own blood.

That scream spurred Chat into action, grabbing the Akuma by the head, he pulled them away from Marinette, while the people in the crowd started to move Marinette out of the firing line.

“Oh, you want to die too?” Cackled the Akuma, “Fine by me, I get more trophies that way.”

Chat’s blood went cold, before it started to boil, “How many?”

The Akuma continued to laugh, “You’ll never find all of them. All those pretty, pretty little girls.”

There was a crunch as Chat’s fist collided with the Akuma’s nose, again and again and again. Soon the Akuma’s face resembled a bloody sack of meat.

“CATACLYSM!” Screamed Chat, the dark energy lighting his hand up, as a look of terror appeared on the Akuma’s face.

Chat shoved his hand down, connecting it with the pavement, which started to crack, before he threw the Akuma through the pavement and into the sewer. Chat kept hitting the Akuma until their face resembled a bruised fruit.

“CHAT NOIR!” Screamed Kagami, blood soaking her front, jerking the Hero from his rage.

“Yes?” Said Chat, his foot pressed against the Akuma’s face.

“She needs to get to a hospital.” Said Kagami, trying to put on a brave face.

Chat frowned, before striding over to Marinette, her white shirt stained red.

“I’ll go as fast as I can.” Said Chat, gently picking Marinette up and carefully using his baton to take him to the rooftops.

With their heroine out of harm’s way, the mob turned to the Akuma.

“I don’t suppose we can talk this out?” asked the Akuma.

W

Across the City, Chloe Bourgeois sat gaping at the TV, her mind continuously pulling blanks. Elsewhere, Alya Césaire was running out of her home at full speed, intent on finding the hospital Chat Noir was taking her best friend to.

Nino and Kim stared at the tv screen, lead lining their stomachs and their hearts frozen. All across the city, everyone who knew Marinette was in shock, Jagged was already sorting out the medical bills and Nadja Chamack had left the news studio.

Lila’s jaw hung agape at the television, the one time she and her mother watch TV in ages and she finds out that Marinette is Ladybug, the two people she hates the most are the same person. It actually made sense why Ladybug had exposed her, since she found that Marinette was a private person. Of course, while Lila was mulling this over, the Akuma ripped Marinette’s arm off. After that, Lila threw up.

Hawkmoth stood frozen; Ladybug had been Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The Ladybug earrings had been within his grasp. The girl that had captured the hearts of two people, was now dying. Hawkmoth grit his teeth, collecting the earrings from the hospital would be easy, by finding a way to make sure the insect was out of commission for the immediate future would be harder. He needed a way to destroy her. Of course, her months of captivity in a remote location did little to break her, no matter what method he used, he was unable to get the earrings off her, but he was able to manipulate her suit so it faded away in some areas. If only he had someone he could use.

Hawkmoth stopped, and smirked.

W

A medical team had been watching the battle as it was being streamed on the news channel, which had the unfortunate effect of showing them every detail of the fight.

“Alright, we’re the closest hospital to the fight, and the most logical choice, given the severity of the patients wounds.” Said a surgeon, already getting prepared.

As if on cue, Chat Noir burst into the room through a window.

“Line was too long.” Gasped Chat, a jacket covering the stump where her arm used to be, “You can help her, right?”

Within moments, Marinette was on a gurney being rushed into the operating theatre. As soon as Marinette was out of sight, Chat looked down at his hands, covered in Marinette’s blood. Chat took a deep breath, before leaving to de-transform and return as Adrien. Thankfully, Plagg removed all traces of blood from him.

Adrien ran around the corner and almost hit Kagami.

“I-I saw the news.” Gasped Adrien, as he and Kagami went inside the lobby.

“Are her parents here?” Asked Kagami, looking around for the hulking frame of Tom and the small stature of Sabine.

“No, they might not have seen the news broadcast.” Said Adrien, just as Tom burst through the doors.

“WHERE IS SHE?!” Bellowed Tom, storming up to the Reception desk.

“Where’s who?” Asked the receptionist, her tone bored.

“My daughter,” Said Tom, leaning on the desk, “Where. Is. She?”

“I’m going to need a name.” The receptionist said in a snooty voice.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the girl that was just revealed to be Ladybug.” Said Kagami, “Where is she?”

“I think I’d know if ‘Ladybug’ was brought in here.” Said the Receptionist, leaning back in her chair.

“Sylvia,” Came a voice from one of the lifts, “Ladybug was brought in half-an-hour ago by Chat Noir, she’s currently in surgery, Her id gives her name as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, if you’d contact her family and let them know.”

Everyone looked over at a consultant leaning against the lift doors.

“Wait, Ladybug is actually here?” Asked the Receptionist, numbly.

“Yes, didn’t you see the news?” Asked the Consultant, before the lift doors closed.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Said the receptionist, quickly, “I’ll have the room and floor up momentarily.”

Tom quietly grumbled; his arms folded. A few minutes later, the group of four were standing outside the operating theatre Marinette was in.

A group of doctors crowded around her, one working on each wound, with the exception of her shoulder, where two were carefully removing any remaining fragments of her destroyed limb.

“Chat Noir left her arm behind.” Said Kagami, hollowly, “He probably forgot about it in the rush to get her here.”

“Where’s her arm now?” Asked Tom, his voice quiet.

“A bystander took off with it.” Replied Kagami, as one of the Doctors jerked back.

Marinette suddenly began to struggle, her remaining arm grabbing an orderly by the face and shoving them back. There was a flurry of movement, then Marinette went still as suddenly as she had started moving.

“They sedated her.” Said Adrien, “She thought she was still out there.”

The medical staff had a quick, quiet conversation, before returning to their tasks. An hour later, Marinette was removed from the Operating Theatre and placed in a high security room. An orderly showed the group of four to the room, before leaving them with Marinette.

Sabine reached for Marinette’s hand, only to find thin air. Sabine let out a gasp and hunched forwards, her head falling into her hands, the stump on Marinette’s left shoulder covered with a series of stitches sealing the wound shut.

“What happened to the Akuma?” Asked Tom, looking over at Kagami.

“His object was broken, turned out he was a serial child killer,” Said Kagami, her voice thick, “There’s not much left of him now.”

Tom grimaced, before looking back at his daughter, “She had already been through so much, when will it stop?”

“What do you mean?” Asked Adrien, getting a sigh from Tom.

“Marinette had a twin brother, they were practically inseparable, until Jason ran into the road to pet a cat. Then Michael left, Toby following soon after and Skye taking residence in another country, Marinette’s childhood was full of loss and now, she’s forced to go through this.”

Marinette’s hand twitched, her eyebrows furrowing, before relaxing.

“What’s happening?” Asked Kagami, leaning towards Marinette.

“I am.” Croaked a high pitched, tired voice.

A small red creature floated into view, looking like she’d gone through a meat grinder.

“Who are you?” Kagami stuttered, recognizing the creature as a Kwami.

“I’m Tikki,” Whispered Tikki, her voice hoarse, “The Kwami that inhabits the earrings.”

“You’re what gives Marinette her powers.” Whispered Tom, getting a nod from Tikki.

“The reason she is twitching like that,” Explained Tikki, “Is because I gave her body an order to randomly test different areas of itself. I was in Marinette’s heart when she was brought here, one of the knives had nicked a major artery, I was keeping her alive for as long as possible.”

“So, the reason Marinette is still alive, is because of you?” Asked Tom, looking down at Tikki.

Tikki gave a shaky nod, before she glowed for a second and then flickered out, dropping like a stone. Adrien dived towards her, catching her in cupped hands.

“Keeping Marinette this side of the death veil took more power than I originally anticipated.” Whispered Tikki, her eyes drooping shut.

Marinette’s jaw opened, before closing again, then Marinette opened her eyes and suddenly sat up with a loud gasp. She started to scramble towards the edge of the bed, almost ripping the IV out of her arm.

“Wait, Marinette!” Yelled Adrien, getting in her line of sight, “Calm down, please!”

Marinette made a noise that sounded a lot like someone gurgling, before she leant over the side of the bed and threw up on the floor.

“Akuma, The Akuma?!” Demanded Marinette, blearily looking around.

“The Akuma’s been dealt with.” Whispered Kagami, making Marinette’s head turn towards her.

“Is the victim alright?” Asked Marinette, as if they hadn’t almost killed her.

“The victim,” Adrien spat out, “was a child rapist and murderer, and he was left for the mob.”

“Oh.” Said Marinette, quietly, slumping back against the bed, “It hurt worse than the months.”

Adrien tried not to wince, both Ladybug and Marinette had vanished for three and a half months, with everyone seemingly being too stupid to connect the dots, himself and Kagami included.

“What actually happened?” Asked Kagami, making Marinette look at her.

“With the Akuma or the Months?” Asked Marinette, getting a raised eyebrow from Kagami, “You feel okay?”

Kagami’s lip quivered, before she wrapped her arms around Marinette. Adrien found himself being pushed towards the two and pulled into the embrace.

The three sat there, before there was a knock on the door, before a nurse stepped in.

“There’s someone with a guitar here.” Said the Nurse, a look of confusion on her face.

“Oh, that’s Luka.” Said Adrien, as the blue haired teen rushed into the room.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Gasped Luka, doubling over with his hands on his knees, “Had to take the stairs.”

“You’re here now.” Said Adrien, his hand accidentally brushing over the stump where Marinette’s arm used to be.

Marinette let out a small hiss from the pain.

“Sorry.” Said Adrien quickly, before he heard shouting from the hallway.

“Do you know who I am?!” Demanded his father’s voice.

“Yes, sir, I do,” retorted a nurse, “I also know you are neither friends, family nor significant other of the patient. You can whine all about it as much as you like, but thar will not change the fact you cannot go into the patients room, we’re having enough trouble keeping the general public out as it is.”

“Ah, yes, trying to see their hero who couldn’t defeat a simple Akuma.” Sneered Gabriel’s voice.

“That, simple Akuma, as you put it was both a murderer and a rapist who has killed more experienced people with ease, the only reason he was able to do that to the patient was due to that damned monster helping him.” Came the Nurse’s voice, “So you can mock the title all you want, but that girl has done wonders for this city and if anyone has the right to be called a hero, it’s her.”

“She is a menace that continuously puts the city in danger when she could’ve prevented all of this!” Shouted Gabriel.

“Yes, defend the actual terrorist who has killed more people because he wants some pieces of jewellery that just so happen to be powerful magical artifacts that could do who knows what!” Retorted the Nurse, “Sir, I believe security can escort you out of the building.”

“I’m not leaving without my son!” Bellowed Gabriel, making Adrien flinch.

“With the behaviour you’re exhibiting, Mr. Agreste,” Came a cold tone of a Detective Ladybug and Chat Noir had worked with when searching for Hawkmoth, “Some of the hospital staff and members of the Police Force believe it better if your son stayed somewhere else.”

There was spluttering coming from Gabriel, before the Nurse opened the door.

“I have no idea how that man can be called a fashion designer when he looks like a mouldy ice cream.” Muttered the Nurse, making Marinette sit up slightly.

“Personally, I think he looks like a candy cane.” Said Marinette, making the nurse look at her.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, we honestly don’t know how he got up this far.” Said the nurse, getting a penlight from her pocket and shone it in Marinette’s eyes, “Aside from the residual pain from your injuries, are you experiencing anything that you think we should know about?”

“My head hurts,” Said Marinette, “although, I think that might be from how my head hit the ground.”

The nurse hummed, checking the monitor before she left. Adrien quietly excused himself, before going towards the toilets, on his way back, a white gloved hand grabbed his arm and yanked him aside. Adrien stumbled, before catching sight of Bunnyx.

“You don’t know how good your timing is!” Exclaimed Adrien, “Listen, Marinette’s been hurt and…” “And her identity has been revealed and her arm has been ripped off.” Bunnyx finished, slumping slightly, “I know what you’re going to say, that I need to go back a stop it from happening.”

“Yeah!” Said Adrien, turning to leave.

“I can’t.” Bunnyx’s words stopped him dead in his tracks.

“What do you mean ‘you can’t’?!” Demanded Adrien, spinning around to face the rabbit themed heroine.

“I’ve tried everything, every scenario has folded out the same way, Marinette’s identity is reveal and she is injured or harmed in some way.” Said Bunnyx, “I’ve already changed the timestream once, on her orders, but every time I’ve tried to fix this, it’s either gotten worse or caused even more problems.”

“Oh, and what happened with the other scenarios?” Questioned Adrien, folding his arms.

“One instance was when I postponed the relationship you have with the others by three years, you would be on a date with Kagami when the Akuma attacked, in addition to her arm, Marinette would’ve lost her home and her parents, another instance resulted in both Marinette and Kagami being sent here.”

“And those are the worst ones?” Asked Adrien, feeling slightly sick.

“No, the worst ones can’t be said, because this is a children’s show!” Snapped Bunnyx, getting a small smile from Adrien when he heard the running joke of the class.

“So, is Marinette going to be alright?” Asked Adrien, getting Bunnyx to look at him.

“I-I don’t know, things have been manipulated so much that I can’t even tell you what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.” Said Bunnyx, before squaring her shoulders, “But something that’s remained constant, is that you cannot trust Gabriel. I’m afraid that’s all I can say now.”

Bunnyx opened a Time Portal and hopped through, “We didn’t have this conversation.”

Adrien stood there, numb as a board, before making his way back to Marinette’s hospital room. Adrien thought he heard them say something about Marinette getting out of Hospital soon.

W

Gabriel was fuming, first that Nurse dared to challenge him about that insignificant insect and then that Detective had the nerve to remove his son from his care.

“Do not disturb me!” Snarled Gabriel, as he passed Nathalie on his way to his Lair. He needed an Akuma, a strong one, one that would show everyone just how pathetic that half-breed mongrel really was.

Nathalie frowned at the computer screen, ever since Dussuu had been restored, she had started to have second thoughts on Gabriel’s crusade to get Emilie back. To go against adults was one thing, but to go against children, against Adrien’s friends was another. Nathalie didn’t know how Gabriel captured Ladybug, or what he did to her in her three and a half months’ worth of captivity, but he continued to look deranged, until that rabbit hero broke her out and delivered her to Ms. Tsurugi.

“He’s going after that Italian girl again.” Said Duusuu, as Nathalie started to rummage around in one of her desks draws, before removing a bottle of sleeping pills. She carefully removed ten pills, before putting the bottle back in the draw.

“This should be enough.” Muttered Nathalie, as she started to put the pills into a small bag.

Hawkmoth smirked at his Akuma approached Lila Rossi, the girl had been a willing minion in the past, now knowing that the two people she hates the most were in fact the same person, she should be jumping at the chance to get her revenge.

“Volpina, we meet again.” Said Hawkmoth, the smirk widening on his face.

“No.”

Hawkmoth blinked. Once. Twice.

“What do you mean no?!” Demanded Hawkmoth, increasing the mental strain on the girl.

“I’m done being your toy.” Came Lila’s response.

“After all the times she humiliated you? Exposed you?” Goaded Hawkmoth, thinking it would get the girl on his side.

“Maybe I just need to grow up and move on with my life.” Responded Lila, a blood started to leak out of her nose and ears.

Hawkmoth snarled, “You are mine to control, you will do as I say!”

Lila felt the trickle of blood start flowing into a stream, she was faintly aware of her mother screaming down the phone and then all she knew was darkness.

Hawkmoth smirked maliciously as he felt the girl’s mind collapse in on itself and the Akuma take over control of her body. He was so ingrained with taking control of the girl, he didn’t notice Nathalie coming up behind him.

The pipe stunned Hawkmoth long enough for Nathalie to force his mouth open and pour the contents of a glass of water into his mouth, before covering his nose and mouth, forcing him to swallow the liquid. Hawkmoth staggered, alarmed at how fast the substance was taking effect. The Butterfly broach was ripped from his chest, forcing him to detransform.

Gabriel blearily looked at Nathalie, as her fist collided with his face.

Nathalie shook her hand, before looking down at Gabriel, blood flowing from his nose. Nathalie looked down at the Butterfly Miraculous, before going back to Gabriel’s study and retrieving the Spell book and Tablet and left for the Dupain-Cheng Bakery.

W

Marinette winced as the flashing cameras blinded her as she walked out of the Hospital, Kagami keeping her steady as they walked to her parent’s delivery van. She was faintly aware of people calling out her name and her hero name, as well as a few derogatory remarks, one particular remark coming from Alec Cataldi and the responding rock hitting him on his forehead. After carefully piling into the back of the van, Marinette twisted and looked at Luka.

“Did you really need to throw the rock?” Asked Marinette, wincing as she felt a phantom pain run through her.

“Yes.” Said Luka, his arms folded, “It was either a rock or a brick.”

Marinette stared at him, before her eyes widened further and quickly turned to face the front. Luka was unnerved at Marinette’s sudden change of attitude, with how Adrien and Kagami were gently saying her name and getting no response.

Marinette was in the fight against the Akuma, Chat had been thrown away from the battle and a crowd had formed beyond the barrier police had formed. She turned to face the Akuma, who started launching bricks at her, one colliding with her face, making her stumble. There was a sudden gasp as the air left Ladybug’s lungs.

Marinette suddenly found herself in the back of her parent’s delivery van, with her head pressed against Adrien’s chest slowly calming down to the sound of Adrien’s heartbeat. Kagami had her hand on Marinette’s waist, carefully holding her while her head was against Adrien’s chest. Marinette was vaguely aware of the van stopping and a sea of flashes outside her home. Adrien, Kagami and Luka surrounded her and guided her inside the bakery.

“Are you okay?” Asked Kagami, once they were all sat down, “You froze up in the van.”

“S-sorry,” Said Marinette ducking her head, “something made me remember the fight.”

There was a collective wince, Kagami wrapped her arm around Marinette, carefully pressing her head against her chest. Marinette stiffened at the contact, before the sound of Kagami’s heartbeat started to calm her down.

Sabine turned on the news, with Nadja Chamack hosting it.

“Following Ms. Dupain-Cheng’s quick release from hospital earlier today, the Hospital in question has been blasted by numerous critics, all saying that she should have remained for at least a week to fully recover from her injuries.” Said Nadja, her knuckles white, “We go to Alec at the scene.”

No one missed the scowl that crossed her face at the mention of Alec.

The screen changed to Alec Cataldi, his forehead red.

“Thank you, Nadja,” Said Alec, “Earlier today, Ladybug was taken out of the Hospital behind me and loaded into a relatives van, many believe that the Heroine should’ve remained in overnight, at least, in order to give her time to let her injuries settle.”

Alec suddenly rocked forwards, as an egg smashed against the back of his head.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng was brought here by Chat Noir after an Akuma managed to overpower her and forced her to change back, the Akuma then proceeded to near fatally wound her, before he was pulled away by Chat Noir. I must warn you that the following footage may be incredibly distressing to some viewers.”

The scene changed to the battle zone, just as the Akuma threw a brick at Ladybug, hitting her on the forehead. Ladybug staggered back, her hand going to the wounded area, before two knives pierced her chest, one in her upper abdomen and the other on the right side of her chest, the Akuma bounded over and grabbed her by the throat as she tried to crawl away, before throwing the Heroine into a wall, when she promptly changed back into Marinette, blood spewing from her mouth. The Akuma slammed his foot into her chest and grabbed her arm as she tried to bat him away, he tore her arm from her shoulder, before tossing it behind him and started raining blows down on the heroine. This continued until Chat grabbed the Akuma, his face split into a picture of blind rage.

The scene suddenly changed back to Alec, as an ambulance pulled in behind him.

“Nadja, we’re interrupting the footage, because there has been an attempted Akumatization,” Rushed Alec, “Reports suggest that Hawkmoth attempted to Akumatize a teenage girl of Italian background, her mother called emergency services after she started to suffer from what appeared like a fit, before her condition deteriorated.”

Marinette glanced at the screen in time to see Lila Rossi be unloaded from the back of the ambulance with gauze covering her ears and nose, Marinette caught sight of Lila’s mother, trying to struggle to get next to her daughter.

“Many believe that Hawkmoth was attempting to capitalise on Ladybug’s current incapacitated state and her currently known location.” Said Alec, “Unfortunately, we are not allowed any closer than this at this current time.”

The screen turned off.

“I know that Lila’s been lying since she arrived,” Said Luka, slowly, “but no one should have that happen to them.”

“It’s strange,” Said Tikki, emerging from Marinette’s pocket, “normally that only happens when an Akuma is being resisted and at that point, the Akuma takes over.”

“So, Hawkmoth was stopped before the Akuma could take control.” Said Adrien, before the doorbell rang.

There was muffled talking, before Sabine returned with a backpack.

“That was your father’s secretary,” Said Sabine, handing the back over to Adrien, “she said she’d packed you some clothes until all this is over.”

Adrien took the bag and opened it, his face freezing at the sight of two miraculous boxes and a letter, Kagami reached in and opened a box, allowing the butterfly broach to be seen. The group stared as Nooroo shot out.

Meanwhile, Nathalie Sancoeur walked up to the Police Station.

[itsmeevie01]

its untitled but...

this is cross posted on AO3 under the same Username. any and all constructive critisicm is welcome. i’m tossing around a few names for the fic but i don’t have anything set in stone yet. enjoy! ~EVIE

He watched the footage again. It didn’t make sense, how was it that she could evade the cameras so easily, but had gotten caught-

It didn’t matter, in the end. He knew and now he had to tell her. He knew that he was poking a pit of vipers, but he couldn’t control what the universe threw his way…could he? All he knew was that Marinette was going to kill him. The question in the end was whether just he told her that he knew…or if he added who he was as well. As his alarm went off from the other side of the room, Adrien Agreste winced. He wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, apparently.

Marinette made a face as she scrambled into class, hoping against hope that she’d be on time. Not only had she slept through her alarm, but she had realized, very last minute, that she had yet to finish a project due that day. Slumping into her seat, she turned to Alya, expecting a grin, or an elbow in her side. Some sort of mention that she was late. Instead, Alya simply gave her a LOOK. When she sent her best friend a confused look in response, Alya laughed. “girl, have you seen what happened last night?” Marinette checked out as Alya started detailing the akuma attack that had taken place late the night before. It wasn’t that she didn’t support Alya, but honestly, she just really wanted sleep. Besides, it wasn’t like she was completely clueless. She probably knew more than her best friend did, honestly. When Alya paused to draw breath, Marinette tuned back in. she had learned over the years that when Alya’s monologues were in two parts, the second part was the one that was important. “Anyways, after they left, I was getting ready to head home and I saw this pink…light. Then there was a sound that was so unearthly…it almost sounded like a yowl, except not.” Marinette had a hunch where that yowl had come from. Well, not so much a what, but a who. Only one other time had Chat made that sound, and it was cemented into her memory so vividly that it would probably be with her until her dying day. As it stood, the last time had almost been her dying day. But last night, she still wasn’t sure what had happened. After she had detransformed, she had had to hurry home, and didn’t have the ability to transform again and hunt down her cat like counterpart. Now, as she listened to Alya’s enthusiastic explanation of what had happened, she wondered what could have caused him to lose control so thoroughly. Alya continued, unaware of her friend’s inner turmoil, “anyways, I saw Chat Noir a little while later, and he didn’t look like himself.” At this point, both Nino and Adrien had turned to be part of the discussion, Alya’s excitement catching their attention.

“Do you have any idea what might have happened?” when Adrien spoke, Alya deflated. “No idea! I almost thought they were going to detransform in front of each other, but when Chat Noir ran-“ she shook her head, her hair swaying with her. “I don’t understand it. If I didn’t know better, I would say that they don’t know the person under the others mask.” As Alya drifted into speculation, their teacher strode in, and the group tried to turn their attention to their class.

As their class filed out for lunch, Alya turned to Marinette. Hoping that her friend wouldn’t notice how clammy her hands were, Mari smiled and slid her bag over her shoulder. “Ready?” she prayed that there wasn’t a tremor in her voice. The last few hours had been full of pure panic for Marinette. Between Alya’s side comments, Chat’s yowl still ringing in her ears and the pressure that came with knowing that she couldn’t tell anyone, her insides had sufficiently turned to jelly. Alya narrowed her eyes, before snorting.

“Girl, there is no way I’m letting you do anything but go home. You look sick.” Marinette paused, what? Alya must be crazy. “now come on, I promised Nino that I would bring you home before meeting him and Adrien for lunch” Marinette scowled but followed Alya out the door. As the girls walked to the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, Alya chattered giving Marinette the ability to slip back into her thoughts. Once she had been deposited in her parents' care and her friend had left, she took a deep breath and scurried up the stairs. If Chat and Alya had been nearby when she had transformed… that wasn’t a thought process that she wanted to follow through.

As she slumped on her bed, Tikki sent her a sympathetic smile. As the duo sat there, Marinette suddenly brightened and reached for her phone. As she sat listening to it ring, Tikki giggled. Just by watching her chosen, she knew when was soon to be on the other end of the phone.

“This better be important.” the voice on the other end hissed. “My mother will murder me otherwise!” Marinette sighed before replying.

“it is. I need you to come back to Paris.” The other girl choked.

“what? Mari- “ “I know, but it’s important.” The other voice went silent before she gave a hesitant agreement. “Will you tell me why you are so insistent or…” When she trailed off, Marinette knew that her friend must have realized what the smaller girl would say. “I’ll book the next flight out of New York. See you soon, bug.”

[sentient-stove]

The Mishaps of Ladybug and Kuro Neko- Chapter 3

Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug, Sanders Sides

Relationships: Patton & Roman, Roman & Virgil, Roman/Virgil (way down the line), Remus & Roman, Logan & Virgil, Janus & Marinette Dupain-Cheng  (More later)

Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Virgil Ito, Logan Ito, Patton Hart, Janus Dupain-Cheng, Roman Prince, Remus Prince, Tikki, other kwami

Summary:  It’s been almost fifty years since Marinette’s used a miraculous.  And unfortunately, someone’s stolen the butterfly and the peacock.So when the missing miraculous turn up in the US, she’s forced to hand out a new team of heroes, finally hanging up the mantle of ladybug forever.

Virgil did not sign up for a kwami(?) that’s obsessed with cheese curds.

Roman is ecstatic that he has the ladybug miraculous, after all, superheroes are cool!

Logan wants to live his life and avoid racial slurs, too bad the annoying ass heroes keep destroying his fucking bedroom.

Patton spends his time hero chasing, maybe he’ll get a super power one day too!

Janus is done™

Chapter Summary: First akuma!  Oh my....

Notes: hey, im back lmao.

AO3 |  Previous | Next

Logan was halfway out the door the next morning when the walls of the small apartment caved in.

Well, it was more of a smashed in actually and he was flung back into the apartment among the debris, head smacking against concrete and instantly dying upon impact.

And thus went Logan’s first experience with an akuma.  Unfortunately for him, it would not be the last time that he’d be killed by one.

…

Virgil was halfway to school when his phone buzzed with the only person that he actively followed on Twitter, some boy at his school who was obsessed with the old superheroes from years ago.

He pulled out his phone and looked at it, brain not comprehending for a moment.

Oh.

Virgil looked up at the sky and sighed.  “Fuck.”  

He looked around at the empty street and sighed, opening his slightly damp bag and looking down at the kwami inside.

“Hey, so um, claws out?”

Plagg looked up at him.  “No.”

“What?”  Virgil ducked into the side alley and slid to a sitting position on the dirty ground.  “I have to go do hero shit or something before Ladybug kills himself.”

Plagg sighed and flew out to point a tiny paw at him.  “You didn’t give me cheese.”

“I gave you some Ritz crackers!  You know that I’m lactose intolerant!”

“I want cheese curds.”

“I’d have to go to the fucking Wharf to get those!  They don’t make them here in California, that’s a Wisconsin thing!”

Plagg blew a raspberry at him and Virgil sighed.

“Fine, but I’m booking it to the Wharf and the second you have your damn cheese curds, I will transform.”

“Sounds good.”

Virgil stood, snatched the kwami out of thin air and stuffed him into his bag, shutting the flaps and booking it in the direction of Fisherman’s Wharf.  There were probably closer places selling the cheese, but Virgil really only could remember the one gourmet cheese shop that had opened two years ago there.

Not to mention, cheese curds were disgusting.  They just tasted like plastic to him.   Virgil skidded around a corner and almost ran into a businessman who was talking to someone on a phone.  The man yelled an insult that Virgil ignored as he crossed the street, almost getting KO’d by a car.

Yeah, he didn’t really have a sense of self preservation.  He made it to the Wharf in about fifteen minutes- would have been sooner if he had been at home, but alas, and when he entered the cheese shop, a cheery bell rang, alerting whoever owned the place that they had a customer at eight thirty am.

He didn’t exactly know where to look, but in the back of the place, they had four different flavors of cheese curds.  Virgil sighed at the prices- this kwami was more expensive to feed than the plethora of stray cats that wandered the city.

He grabbed one bag of each flavor and went to the register, placing them on the counter.

“Can I get this?”

“Sure hon.”  The woman smiled and rang them up, he brow furrowing.  “That’ll be twenty seven dollars and fifty four cents.”

Virgil pulled some rumbled bills out and set them down before meticulously counting out the rest of the change in the nickels that lived in his pockets.

“Do you want a bag for that?”

“Uh, no thank you.  And I don’t need the receipt, thanks.”  Virgil grabbed the cheese and rushed out, heading away from the tourists and towards where he could hide.

He turned down an alley and knelt, tearing a hole in his jeans as he opened his bag again and offered some cheese curds to the kwami.

“Thank you.”

“Fuck you, you little chaos demon.”  Virgil bit out as Plagg ate the cheese slowly, seeming to enjoy the squeaking sound that it gave with each chew.  When the kwami finally swallowed, Virgil stood.

“Plagg, claws out, or I--”

Green light enveloped him in a yelp.

…

Roman hit the akuma with his yo-yo fruitlessly as the monster roared at him and swung.  He only managed to jump out of the way before it’s giant fist crushed through the roof of the building he’d been standing on.

“Come on Kuro, where are you?”  He muttered as he rolled to the right, a massive foot coming down right next to him.

“HEY!”  a voice shouted. Kuro Neko.

Roman sighed in relief as his partner yelled something intelligible at the akuma, getting a stoney fist thrown his way.   The black clad figure leapt gracefully over it and used his staff to jab it in the eye, which only enraged it further as he landed next to Roman.

“Sorry LB, I was in a different part of the city.”  Kuro looked up and then tackled them to the side as the akuma roared.  They rolled for a few feet before stopping and Roman quickly got up.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah.  Do you know where the akuma is?”

“It’s right in front of us.” Roman said blankly.  “Oh, wait, you meant the object!”

Kuro rolled his eyes and then launched himself up to dodge a stone hand as Roman threw the yo-yo around one of the arms and used that as a swing.  They landed on a roof next to each other and Kuro’s face fell.

“It’s going to keep destroying if we can’t figure it out.”

Roman nodded.  “I know.  I think the akumatized object is in his foot though.”

Kuro Neko tilted his head in confusion and Roman bit back a comment about cats before pointing.  

“That foot’s a different color than the rest of the stone.”

“Okay, what do you want me to do?”

Roman blinked.  “Well, can you go around front and distract the akuma while I call the lucky charm and figure a plan real fast?  Try to keep it stationary.”

Kuro Neko nodded and jumped off the roof, going into a quick freefall before pulling out his staff and using it to safely land.  He ran between the akuma’s feet and to the front.

Roman bit his lip and pulled his yo-yo off his belt.  “Lucky Charm!”

A red and black spotted bicycle pump came flying down and he caught it, frantically looking around as he tried to figure out a plan.

Nothing, nothing, there!  Roman nodded and jumped off the roof, landing on a balcony that hadn’t been destroyed yet.

“Kuro Neko!”

“What Ladybug?!”

“When I say go, use your cataclysm on the underside of it’s foot!”

Kuro made brief eye contact with him, before resigning himself to the fact and nodding.

Roman took the bike pump and a flowerpot from the balcony before jumping off that and landing on the street to steal an umbrella from the food cart that had somehow not been crushed by the fighting.

He combined the items into a weird spinning thing.

“Now Kuro!”

Kuro didn’t respond to him, but Roman heard a faint “Cataclysm!”   and a roar as the akuma turned to attack the spinning umbrella.

It’s foot was right above him when Kuro Neko came out of nowhere, holding up the hand that had the Cataclysm activated.  The foot came down as Kuro used his free arm to pull Roman to him so they were hip to hip.  Roman dimly noted that his partner’s eyes were closed tight and the second the Cataclysm came in contact with the foot, black spread in veins from the spot.   The stone crumbled away and fell to dust around them, a purple glowing butterfly flapping out of the dust.

Roman threw his yo-yo forward.  “No more evil doing for you.”

The akuma was trapped in the yo-yo and when it got it back, he opened it, watching the white butterfly flap out.  “Bye bye butterfly.”

Kuro’s arm left from where it was wrapped around him and the black cat hero sighed.  “Oh my god, I’m going to have nightmares.’

“Hey, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”  Roman freed the bicycle pump from the contraption and smiled at Kuro Neko.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

Ladybugs burst from the Lucky Charm, repairing the damage around them as the pair watched in awe.

Roman turned to Kuro.  “Thank you.”

Kuro Neko might have smiled, but Roman didn’t know, after all, his partner’s mask covered the bottom half of his face, leaving his green and blue eyes uncovered.

“Yeah, you too Ladybug.”  Kuro Neko held up a fist.  “Pound it?”

“Pound it.”  Roman grinned then paused as his earrings beeped and Kuro’s ring flashed.

“Well, until next time?” Roman asked casually.

Kuro turned away and then paused.  “Ladybug, we need to eventually figure out who has the butterfly miraculous.”

“Of course, but we don’t know anything right now.  We’ll figure it out.”

Kuro nodded, then extended his staff, using it to launch away, leaving a starstruck Ladybug to watch him disappear before turning himself and yo-yoing away.

…

Logan opened his eyes.   He was standing in the doorway of his apartment and he thought that he could vaguely feel like something was off….

Huh.  He’d remember eventually.  He shut the door and locked it before heading down the stairs to go to class.

The back of his head did have a dull ache though.