#YES THIS IS ABOUT NATHALIE FROM MIRACULOUS LADYBUG. IT'S ALWAYS THE WOMEN.

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

I HATE IT WHEN I FIND FANART OF A CHARACTER WITH GLASSES AND THEY'VE BEEN DRAWN WITHOUT GLASSES.

[auspicious-lilana]

Two Cats, One Heart (Chat Noir x Reader)

Summary: Y/n Ross and Adrian Agreste are childhood best friends, they've been through thick and thin, including losing their mom, and dad. Since then Y/n's mom made her live with Adrian at his mansion and forever leaving her life. Watch as their lives Change as they become the new heroes of Paris alongside Ladybug and see how Romance sprouts between the two models.

Part 1  

{Y/n' POV}

Adrian and I were running down the street of our house trying to get to school on time. Why are we running to school in a rush when we could just take our personal driver? You may ask? Well, we aren't really allowed to attend school, so we snuck out of the mansion together with all our supplies and bags. We saw the School entrance and smiled at each other before starting to slow down and walk-in. "Adrien, Y/n, please reconsider! You know what your father and godfather want!" "This is what we wanna do!" Adrian said as I nodded and continued walking before we saw an old man lying on the road reaching for his crane. Adrian and I looked at each other and nodded before we took both sides of the old man and helped him up as I picked up his crane and gave it to him. "Thank you, young man and women" we smiled back at the old man before turning back to Natalie. "We just wanna go to school like everybody else. What's so wrong with that? " I said sadly. "Please don't tell my father about this" Adrian said as we sadly walked into the car and drove back to the Mansion we were imprisoned in. Unknown to us the old man we helped before stood in front of the mansion as we went in for our homeschool class, with two boxes that would change our entire lives. Adrian and I were in the middle of Natalie's history lesson as we listened to while we were still bummed out about the whole not going to school thing. "Who was the first president of the 5th French Republic?" "Everyone thinks it was de Gaulle, " Adrian started bored. "but it was actually René Coty before the first elections" I finished off for him. "excellent Adrian, Y/n"  I sighed as I saw my godfather aka Adrian's dad Mr.Agreste come in. "Give me a minute, would you, Nathalie?" Natalie nodded at Mr.Agreste. "yes, sir" Natalie left leaving Adrian and me with Mr.Agreste. "You are both NOT going to school. I already told you two"  Adrian and I stood up in protest. "but father/Sir!" "Everything you both need is right here where I can keep an eye on you two. I will not have you both outside in that dangerous world." "It's not dangerous, father. We're always stuck in here with nothing but each other and sometimes we can't even see each other. Why can't we go on and live life just like everybody else?" " Adrian said. "Because you are not like everyone else! You are my son and goddaughter! Continue."  Mr.Agreste left as Natalie came back. "We can leave it there if you have-" before she could finish Adrian and I ran back to our rooms, as tears rolled down my cheeks" "It isn't fair!" I yelled at myself as soon as I shut my door and threw myself on the couch. "why can't we live our lives as teens?" I wiped my tears before I turned on the TV not noticing the box right in front of me on the desk. "As incredible as it seems, it's been confirmed that Paris is indeed being attacked by a supervillain. The police have been struggling to keep the situation under control" I gasped at the news. "Super Villain?" After a second I noticed a strange black box on the desk in front of me. "huh? What's this doing here?" I opened the box as a grey light came out of it making me look away and drop the box to shield my eyes. "hey!" I looked at where the greeting came from to see...a grey floating fox?!?

I was about to scream before it flew quickly at me and covered my mouth. " Don't freak out! Please! I have had enough of new holders screaming whenever seeing me for the first time!" I nodded and grabbed the little grey fox and moved it away from my face. "so, are you like a genie? Do you grant wishes? Or are you just some small animal trapped in a-" I looked at the box to see a silver bracelet with a silver paw print in the middle. "really pretty bracelet." "I met him once, so what if he grants wishes, big bore. I'm way better than that guy" I looked at the little fox shook. "a genie... Exists?!" "so your surprised that exists but not questioning mines? Wow, I'm totally not offended" I chuckled nervously while I scratched the back of my neck sheepishly. "Sorry, it's just I read a lot of fairy tales of Genies, I never knew it really did it existed" "yeah yeah, whatever. Anyways the names Alpha" "I'm-" "Y/n, I know" "How did you know-" "I'm your kwami, of course, I would know your name" "What's a kwami?" I sat back down as Alpha stood floating in front of me. "A kwami is an ancient creature that grants the holder a special power, yours is the power of balance, you balance the power of destruction and creation, making sure there aren't too much of either of them." "what can I do, specifically?" "well, you wield a staff that can split into two like the ring miraculous and can take form into any weapon you like, except you have a different special ability called moon wolf when you say the word you can go invisible for 30 seconds only." "cool!" "but! There's a downside." "bad downside or is it not that bad?" I nervously said scared I might get severely ill or maybe I might get super tired every transformation. " it's not that bad, it's just you got five minutes until you detransform after using your special ability" "oh...thats not that bad I guess" I picked up the box and took out the silver bracelet and placed it on.

"So how does this work?"

"This is your miraculous, the grey fox miraculous. Using this would change you in to your superhero outfit complete with a mask and all that pizazz"

"Cool, how do I do that?"

"Just say, "Alpha, Tails out" then bam superhero"

"Okay, Alpha!-" Alpha covered my mouth again.

"Wait! before you do that, you need a hero name"

"right, but what should I name for myself"

"how about Lady Fox, like the last holder?"

"Lady Fox? I like the sound of that"

"Okay, now you can transform"

"Great! Alpha! Tails Out!" After I transformed I looked at my body mirror in awe.

"Now to test it out" I opened my window and looked around to see if anyone's watching before I hopped off and started jump building to building. I then saw a girl in a ladybug patterned suit as well as a boy in a black leather suit, both of them in masks. tied up in a yoyo string. I smirked as I stealthy walked over to them. "I'm guessing you two are my new teammates? they looked at me surprised. the red suit girl seemed nervous while the boy looked at me excited.  

"can you help us, g-get untied?" the girl asked. I nodded and pulled the tip of the string letting them free as they fell down. The cat boy came up to me and kissed my hand to which I blushed before I hid it and took back my hand.

"Thanks, umm"

"Lady Fox, you?"

"Chat Noir, at your service M'lady"  he bowed. So he's a flirty gentleman, I'll have to watch my back with him.

"I'm Ma... err... Mar... uhh..." The red suit girl pulled on her yoyo before it landed on Chat's head making me giggle as she looked at him apologetically.  " Madly Clumsy. I'm so clumsy."

"No sweat, clumsy girl. We're learning the ropes too." I nodded to Chat's reply.

"We can't be perfect at anything first try, right?" The ground began to tremble as we saw a building fall from afar. Chat and I nodded as we used out staffs to get up the building nearby from the ground.

" Hey! Where are you two going?"

"To save Paris, right?" I yelled back before Chat and I continued running. When we got to the source of the noise we saw the stone monster chasing a guy before the guy tripped. Chat extended his staff stopping the stone monster from reaching the guy. I used my staff to land next to the guy.

"Come on" I grabbed his arm and helped him up as I swung him to safety.

"Who are you?" He asked before I winked at him with a grin.

"Lady Fox" Before any more could be said I swung away to join to battle to see stone heart throw a net at a brown-haired girl who seemed to be recording. I gasped as I threw my staff to stop it from hurting her. "Are you okay, miss?" She nodded as she gaped at me in awe. but I soon got grabbed by the stone monster as did Chat as we got squished together. I looked at him with a blush creeping up as he grinned at me awkwardly before we looked away trying to move less so as not to get closer together. Ladybug soon came and used her yoyo to throw Stone monster down getting us freed.

"Animal cruelty? How shameful!"  I grinned at Ladybug's reply as I stood next to her next to a net. "Sorry it took so long, Cat Noir, Lady Fox" I nodded and smiled.

" It's cool, Wonderbug. Now, let's kick his rocky behind!" I sighed and grabbed Chat's tail.

"Hold on, kitty. Didn't you just see? he gets bigger and stronger with every attack."

"Lady Fox is right Chat Noir. We have to do something different"  

"Different how?" Chat asked as he rubbed his tail.

" Uhhh... I don't know." I thought about a plan while Chat noir decided to get cocky.

"Okay then. Let's use our powers. Cataclysm! Apparently I destroy whatever I touch."

"Chat wait-" I tried to stop him before he touched the net. great, that was his last shot. didn't he listen to his kawami? You only get one shot or time to use special powers.

"Cool. It's just you and me now! Time to rumble, soon-to-be rubble!" I face palmed as I sighed.

"Cat Noir! Wait!" Chat Noir either didn't hear or ignored Ladybug as he leaped and touched the stone monster, thinking he could still use his powers. Seems he finally realized that as he kept touching the stone monster.

"Uh-oh. I guess I only get one shot to use my power." Chat Noir smiled sheepishly before Stone Monster threw him back at us as I quickly got out of the way as he landed on the net.

"And you only have five minutes before you transform back. Didn't your kwami explain anything to you?"

"I guess I was a little excited about my new life."  

"Well, up to me. Lucky Charm!" A suit appeared in Ladybug's hands.

"Superpower?"

" My kwami told me I have to break the object where the whatchama-call-it... er, the Akuma is hiding."  

"Well, he's made entirely out of stone." Chat's right, he is entirely out of stone, I looked closely before noticing something. but his right hand is always shut. earlier when he took me, he avoided holding me and chat in the same hand, and held us both in his left hand. in fact he's been keeping his left hand to himself the entire time, like a Russian doll.

"His right hand, it's still closed. He never opens it. It's like the Russian dolls. The object isn't on him, it's hidden in his fist!" I exclaimed Ladybug caught on and nodded.

"Lady Fox is right"

"So what's your plan?" Chat asked. I smiled and stepped back for Ladybug to do her thing.

"This." Ladybug grabbed the hose under hoe and tied it to the suit. I looked at her as I soon realized what she was going to do and I nodded as she smiled. I turned my staff into a rope as I used to grab around Chat's legs.

"Don't resist. Trust me." I spun and around and threw chat into the stone monster.

"THIS GIRL'S CRAZY!"  Ladybug then ran.

"Catch me if you can!" Ladybug jumped making stone monster drop the item to grab ladybug. "Lady Fox! Now!" I nodded as I used my power.

"Moon Wolf!" I turned invisible so that the stone monster won't be able to try to touch me as I grabbed the item, making it look for it confused as I turned on the tap filling up the suit Ladybug had. letting Ladybug go. Once I was sure she was free, I threw the stone on the groundbreaking it. As we both watched it fly away as the stone monster changed back into a boy, making Chat fall.

"This girl is awesome, Crazy awesome" The broken stone pieces I had in my hand changed back into a paper as I smiled and walked the boy. Chat walked up to me and Ladybug.

"You two were in incredible, Lady Fox, and Miss uh bug lady, you did it!" I shook my head.

"No, We did it"

"Pound it!" We all said with a smile as Chat's ring and my bracelet began to beep.

"You two should get going. Our identities must remain secret."

"Farewell, m'lady. Let's do this again soon, okay?" Chat and I began to run, in the same direction home?

"Um, you live near here?"  I said as we made it to my home.

"Uh yeah" Why isn't he moving, doesn't he have to get home.

"um, shouldn't you get home?"

"What about you? I want to make sure you get home alright"

"No need, I-" My bracelet began to beep making me get nervous. I looked around before I thought out an idea. "Bye!" I ran all the way behind the mansion as I heard his footsteps leave. Strange how we ended up in the same place. I looked to make sure if he was gone before I ran back to my window as I heard my door knock as I changed back. I quickly hid Alpha who seemed tired as I sat on the couch casually.

"Come in!" I saw Adrian as I looked at him surprised. he never really came in my room before, after we became models we rarely have time for each other as we did when we were kids, it was like we were purposely being split apart. "Adrian?"

"Hey, Y/n. Long time since I came in here huh?" Adrian smiled as he laughed a bit making me grin.

"Yeah, I missed seeing you a lot. It's like we've grown apart"

"And now I want us to be together"

"What do you mean?"

"I missed you, and I need my best friend again" I smiled as I patted a spot on the couch for him to sit which he did.

"I missed you too, blondie" Adrian chuckled.

"It feels nice to see you call me that again" I smiled teasingly.

"oh you do? pancake?"

"Okay, now I think you're getting a bit carried away with the nicknames"  

"How so? Goldie locks?"

"Y/n...." We looked at each other before we both ended up laughing. "This time, nobody is ever going to separte us, not even my father"

"Pinky promise?" I stook out my pinky as he chuckled as he locked his pinky with mine.

"Pinky promise"

"Well, we can start with a sleepover later?" Adrian nodded.

"I'll go get my things" I smiled as he walked out. Alpha came out and tired walked over to me.

"Yyyyy/nnnnn!" He whined as I rolled my eyes.

"Yes?"

"I want brownies"

"I'll get my chef to bring some" I called in a chef with the com installed in my room as he brought the brownies quickly. I thanked him as I closed the door and gave him the brownies as requested. "Happy?"

"Very" I rolled my eyes as I turned on the TV.

"These victims transformed into stone beings are still like statues. The police are perplexed to what will happen to them. Will they come back to life or be frozen in time forever?

I looked at the TV confused. More stone beings? I thought we defeated it.

"Hey Alpha, I thought we were finished with that guy, why is it still going?"

"Did you capture the Akuma?" He said as he munched on a brownie.

" What's capturing the Akuma got to do with the other stone beings?"

"An Akuma can multiply, that's why it must be captured. If the boy's emotions become negative again, then the Akuma will turn him back into Stoneheart! He'll control all the stone beings and bring them to life to serve as his army!"

"Is there anything I can do about it"

"Well usually Ladybug has to do it, but you can too. You can use your staff as a net and catch all of them. but sadly you can't this time. It's all up to Ladybug."

"I can only come in when it's out of hand huh, well i hope Ladybug is up for it too"

"Me too Y/n, Me too"

(A/n: End of part one of Origins! I hope all my miraculous fans like this chapter!)

[trickstermiraculous]

Can you make miraculous salt fict where Lila convinces Alya or the class that Mari stole the Earrings she is always wearing from either her or LB causing the ones that fall for it to confront Marri and roughly rip the earings off her ears to give to Lila only to later watch in horror as chat and a new ladybug are defeated by hawkmoth and some one important to Alya or the class goes missing soon after Adrian's mom returns

I Screwed Up

Oh god, oh god. This is all my fault, I took Marinette’s earings and suddenly there’s a new ladybug who looks to much like Lila and they lose. I’ve doomed Paris, everyone in the city is panicking, Adrien who is now revealed to be Chat Noir is yelling at Lila who is just in tears trying to sympathy but it’s obvious to everyone that she had stolen the original Ladybug’s earings.

It’s then when Lila just collapsed, she was still breathing and when I went over to help her, she looked to just be asleep. The medics came over to check on her when a new person dropped down in front of the Eiffel Tower, “Multi Mouse” shouted Adrien running over. 

The newly dub Multi Mouse was carrying Adrien’s mother who was alive and scared out of her mind and Gabriel Agreste who was tied up with a jump rope. “Mum,” said Adrien who went to hug her, the hero ‘Queen Bee’ also join Multi Mouse carrying Gabriel’s assistant. “Paris, I apologised for leaving you in a time of need but know that it was because of Lila Rossi tricked my classmates into stealing my earings that caused this failure to happen, I’m lucky enough to have other miraculous in my disposal which because of today’s battle gave me the assistance I needed to defeat HawkMoth and Mayura with the help of Queen Bee” Multi Mouse stated pointing to both Gabriel and Nathalie as she held up what I assume was the Moth Miraculous and Peacock Miraculous.

Officers ran over to quickly put them in handcuffs, “Ladybug what about Lila Rossi” I shouted still worried on why she collapsed and wasn’t waking up, “it’s because of Gabriel’s wish, his wife was in a deep sleep and to wake her, he used the wish that needed to be balanced so he wished it to be the person who held the Ladybug miraculous at the time” answered Queen Bee as Multi Mouse walked over to Lila and took off the earing to which she put on a kawami appearing. 

“Tiki is there something we can do?” she asked as people watched,

“yes, but we need the other members of the temple to wake her up” Tiki replied,

“Is Lila’s mother here?” asked Queen Bee,

“I’m here,” said a short brown hair woman running over,

“We are going to need to keep her in the hospital until I can contact the other members of the order, is that ok,” she asked,

“Yes, please just helped my daughter, I’m sorry for all the problems she caused” the women replied to which Ladybug nodded and allowed Queen Bee to accompany to the hospital.

Most people were leaving by order of the police while the Officer Raincomprix asked Ladybug and Adrien to join them at the major’s office to which she agreed but only after she changed back into Ladybug. Before she left Multi Mouse walked over to me, disappointment all over her face. Her ear clearly still bleeding from me ripping out her earrings. “Alya, I will make this clear to you that this is not your fault, you didn’t know that those were my miraculous” she stated, I went to speak but Multi Mouse quickly cut me off, “but you should have known those were my earrings since I’ve worn them before any of us knew Lila”,

“I know, I know, I’m so so sorry, Marinette” I exclaimed tearing up,

“Ironically, it gave me the possibility to stop Hawkmoth but not without the sacrifice of Lila and the trust you have broken and will take you years to get back” and with that, she ran off, leaving me behind sobbing. 

Notes: I apologise if it seems rushed, I only had a small outline of the plot and I wanted to get it out today.

AO3

[nomolosk]

Snapshots (AU Yeah August 2020)

read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655623/chapters/62678428

Day 9- University

Gabriel looked up as his atelier melted away until he was standing in the center of the Dean’s office at ESMOD. He recognized the office, it was even decorated the same as when he had attended- which likely meant the akuma- he had named her Universal- was taking the easy way and creating her landscape from the memories and imaginings of the people affected. Given the setting, she had probably thrust everyone in Paris into some kind of University life. Apparently, he was to be the stern and forbidding Dean whom all the students feared.

He sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. He hadn’t really counted on this akuma being so… quiet. It had been nearly two full days already and there was still no indication that Ladybug or Chat Noir had caught on that something was going on. Of course, that was probably due to the powerset he’d given her- the ability to rewrite the memories of everyone affected to reflect their current reality. Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn’t spend all their time transformed, just as he couldn’t. In fact, he was counting on that a little, since her given task was to try and discover who they were in their normal everyday lives if possible.

In a way it was a personal victory- he’d finally hit on something that could trip them up… if only they would betray themselves. Sighing again, he went in search of Nathalie. He’d made them both immune to the akuma’s memory-changing power, so both of them remembered everything so far, including the rather odd transformation of his own powers during that elemental-magic setting. Not that he had complained at the time- it had made it possible for an additional attack to occur while his original akuma was still in play.

Yes, Universal was having a great time, but perhaps it was time for Mayura to come out to play and tempt the young heroes out into the open again. Perhaps Universal would catch the power surge when they transformed. Adrien was tucked safely away at that Small Business Convention- which had probably been transformed into a Student Union, or something similar. Yes. He’d be having the time of his life, and he’d be safe from the coming fight.

----

One moment Nathalie was scheduling phone calls with suppliers and meetings with Gabriel’s design team, and the next she found herself in an office she didn’t recognize, staring at a distraught young man as he sobbed to her about how he’d been framed, and it hadn’t really been him that was caught sabotaging someone else’s project.

It was times like this that Nathalie cursed Hawkmoth. Sure, he’d assured her that he and she were both protected from the mind-bending powers of his latest akuma, but that also meant that she currently had no clue what her current role was. She fell back on professional coldness. The fact that this individual was in an office that was hers, begging for mercy and trying to shift blame onto someone- anyone- else, meant that she was likely either the enforcer of rules, or the precursor to the enforcer of rules. So… not all that different from her actual real life job, though she was thankfully no longer so involved in Adrien’s schedule.

She glanced down at her desk, hoping to see a report on a tablet, or even a stack of papers with the complaint to review. She was in luck. No tablet, but there were three pages and the topmost was a single sheet detailing the complaint and the evidence against the young man in front of her. An eyebrow twitched when among the evidence listed was “security video footage.” The recommendation at the bottom of the page was to kick it up to the Dean. Also helpfully listed was the name of the individual.

“I’ve heard enough,” she finally said, in her usual expressionless voice. “There is plenty of evidence against you Mr. Virago. I’m saddened that once again ambition, or perhaps envy or spite, has misled someone talented enough to gain entry to this institution into ruining their chances. However, integrity is something we demand from all our students. You should expect a meeting with the Dean, although given what is listed here, it’s quite possible he’ll merely review the evidence and come to a conclusion in your absence.”

If the Dean were Gabriel Agreste, he certainly would, but unfortunately the Dean’s name wasn’t listed. Naturally, Nathalie would be expected to already know it. Mr. Virago collapsed into incoherent tears, and Nathalie grimaced in distaste. Artists were so very temperamental. Well, except for Gabriel. And even he has his moments, she thought, remembering quite a few overheard villain monologues, not to mention his sudden and inexplicable need to compose a rap song of all things to serve as his own personal theme a few months ago. 

Nathalie sighed and pushed the button on her old-fashioned office phone that was the most likely candidate for an intercom. “Please have security come and escort Mr. Virago out, thank you,” she said to the person on the other end.

A few moments later, there was a knock on her office door, and two uniformed women escorted the limp and cooperative (likely former) student out of her presence. A moment later there was another knock, and Gabriel walked in.

“I’m the Dean, who are you?” he asked, with no preamble whatsoever, but Nathalie was used to that. Except in moments of extreme stress or worry, Gabriel was nothing if not to the point.

“Someone just under the Dean, I believe. That young man you saw exiting a moment ago won’t be a student here for much longer if the evidence against him holds up.”

“That’s assuming he was ever a student here in the first place, and Universal didn’t make up a scenario he is being forced to play out, or simply transfer his misconduct from one place to another. Perhaps he always dreamed of being a student here, yet his life went another direction.”

Nathalie rubbed her temples. “This akuma is giving me a headache.”

“Don’t think about it too much, then. His life is his own, and unless Universal grants me another universe in which I’m able to create another akuma apart from her, his current mental anguish is irrelevant.”

A small voice in the back of Nathalie’s mind whispered traitorously: when did Gabriel become so cold? Surely he used to care more about the feelings of others… now he seems to see them as nothing more than opportunities to exploit.

“Of course, sir.”

“Meanwhile, since the heroes have yet to show themselves, perhaps Mayura ought to make an appearance.”

That brought a malicious smile to her face. Since Gabriel had succeeded in repairing the peacock miraculous a few years ago, her pulmonary issues had almost cleared up, and she was much stronger and faster in a fight. Of course, it seemed Ladybug and Chat Noir had finally reached whatever threshold it had been that kept them from using their powers more than once before being forced out of their transformations, and as a result they were also much more formidable opponents. Privately, Nathalie was starting to wonder if they would ever reach their ultimate goal, but she enjoyed being Mayura and flying about the city. As Mayura she could take out some of her frustrations with a reasonable assumption that they would be just fine in the end. She was loathe to give that up.

“I’ll have to check my schedule as soon as I can find it,” she said, “but I’m sure I can find some spare time somewhere. Will you be doing any designing while we’re stuck here?”

“No, it would be pointless. My own schedule is packed with meetings, or so my secretary- who is not nearly as competent as you- tells me. I had to beg for the few minutes it would take to walk from my office to yours as it is.”

“Then you should get going. Oh, by the by… have you run into anyone you recognize yet?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “No one, but the day is young.”

Nathalie returned the smirk. “It seems my current score stands, then.”

“I never agreed to this, you know.”

“And yet, you were so triumphant yesterday when you briefly surpassed my score.”

“You sound like you think this little wager of yours is going to change things.”

“I know you still miss Emilie,” Nathalie said, her tone softening. “But you really need to get out more, and not just as a hologram. You weren’t there all those years when Adrien’s expression would go flat every time you refused to show up for some event. And now that he is grown and out of the house, he is more distant than ever. If you don’t want to lose him entirely, something needs to change.”

Gabriel sighed. “Yes, but… oh, if only I could be as self-centered as Audrey Bourgeois, and simply attempt to fire anyone who annoys me.”

“Everyone feels that way, Gabriel,” Nathalie stated firmly. “Consider the fact that most of the people you meet are feeling exactly the same way you are… and strive to treat them with the same consideration and respect you would demand for yourself.”

Gabriel made a skeptical noise. “If you say so. But it does seem pointless to bother at this point when we’re so close.” He sighed. “I really must get back. Try to inform me of when you’re going out, please?”

“Of course sir,” Nathalie said, and started pulling out the drawers of her desk looking for a schedule even as he left the room.

@auyeahaugust

[noirewrites]

For You, I Will Cross Any Waters

Fandom: Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Pairing: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain Cheng

@art-the-f-up sorry this comes a lot late!

I live! Okay, well, I know you guys know I live given I updated United as well as started with a Lukanette shot anddddd this fic is to blame for the Lukanette one, I swear! You will see why in the next chapter. Also, this is the chapter where the story finally develops — aka, where I diverge from the plot list for Ladynoir July 2020 as well. I wanted to put this along with Day 6 prompt, but the chapter got twice the usual length and seemed so awkward that I now have one finished and one half written chapter now xD

Thanks for bearing with me, hope you guys enjoy! <3

Chapter 6: Meeting the Future Bride

A beautiful melody echoed through the wide room. As the final chord was struck, the door opened.

“Adrien, your Father wishes to meet you,” the woman at the door said in a monotone, causing the blond at the piano to turn his attention to her.

“Is it about yesterday, Nathalie?” He asked nonchalantly.

“He didn’t disclose the purpose of the meeting.”

Adrien sighed. “Fine, I will be down in five minutes.”

As Nathalie left, Adrien distractedly pressed the piano keys again. Suddenly, the top of his black piano moved a bit and acid green eyes morphed into the instrument, blinking at him. Adrien suppressed a bark of laughter before shaking his head lightly. Reaching over, he moved his hand over the shiny surface, causing the piano to purr a bit. Finally, he got hold of something firm, and plucked the black cat out of the piano.

The cat hissed a bit at the sudden interruption from its relaxation, letting out a small yowl as Adrien cuddled it in his arms. But as the blond stroked his fur, the yowling died down to give way for purring.

“Say, Plagg, you have a knack of spooking me out, don’t you?” Adrien chuckled, dodging his finger away from the cat’s reach as it tried to bite him.

“Whatever kid, I am angry that you disturbed my peaceful catnap,” the cat snarked.

“But you are liking the cuddles~~”

The feline chose not to reply, opting to cuddle closer to his owner.

As he stroked Plagg absentmindedly, Adrien quietly asked, “What do you think Father wants to talk about?”

“Would bet my entire cheese stash this is about last night’s shenanigans,” came the reply.

Adrien sighed and put the cat down, “Guess I brought this upon myself. Stay hidden while I am gone, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill,” Plagg said as he waved a dismissive paw in the air.

Shaking his head lightly, the blond walked out of his room in the direction of the atelier. The atelier where his father was waiting for him, probably to deliver to him another lecture on maturity and responsibility.

Reaching the grand doors, Adrien felt a bout of uneasiness pass over him. Years of subjugation to his father’s wishes had still left their impressions in adulthood. No matter how independent he wished to be, he sometimes couldn’t help but feel as if he was still held under Gabriel’s iron grip.

Knocking on the giant doors, the blond took a deep breath in, trying to calm his racing heart. A monotonous “Come in” came from the inside, prompting him to reach forward and enter the room.

Gabriel Agreste stood behind his desk, his eyes sifting through some random sketches. He spent a good moment or two at his task before turning his attention to Adrien, his neutral expression giving way to a slight frown.

“Hello, Father,” the blond greeted.

“Hello, Adrien. Can I have the pleasure of knowing where you were last night? For my reputation at the ball was severely compromised thanks to your frolicking,” Gabriel asked, cutting to the chase immediately.

Something in Adrien bristled. It had been a long time since his Father had had a proper conversation with him. Still, when they met again, the first thing the older Agreste cared about was Adrien’s whereabouts, and that too just because the Agreste reputation had been compromised?

Doing his best to not let his frustrations seep into his tone, Adrien replied in a cold monotone, “I was away from the ball, Father, to escape the clutches of all those high-class women who apparently were stickier than the stickiest glue we have.”

The older Agreste cocked an eyebrow as he held his chin thoughtfully, his mouth upturned in a slight smile. “Hmm, I guess you have got a point there, young man. Those ladies certainly didn’t care about your personal space, did they?”

The statement baffled Adrien. Was his Father actually agreeing with him for once?

Gabriel walked towards Adrien, clapping his hand on the younger Agreste’s shoulder as he proudly said, “Well, don’t worry son. You won’t have to encounter those ladies again.”

He turned his head up, looking in the direction of the doors before calling out, “Nathalie, please bring our guest in.”

The doors opened and someone walked in. Adrien turned around, only for his gaze to land on the strange new girl who stood in the atelier.

She wore a black satin evening dress with bell sleeves, overlaid in dark orange chiffon and black lace. The sweetheart neckline was a bit too deep for his liking. But what really unnerved the young man was the twinkle in her olive green eyes and the smile etched on her red-painted lips.

“Adrien, meet Ms. Lila Rossi. She has been eager to meet you since yesterday,” Gabriel informed.

“Um, hello?” Adrien greeted her, confused. “You have some news for me?”

He hoped against hope she hadn’t been present at yesterday’s ball, for that would only mean —

The young woman let out a shrill chuckle as she held his shoulder. “I now see what Monsieur Agreste meant by you being a ray of sunshine. Oh dear, I am your fiancée!”

On hearing her claim, Adrien immediately shrank away from her touch, “But—But I don’t even know you!”

He turned to his Father, eyes sparking in rage. “You said I could choose my bride!”

“And you refused that offer by running away, young man. That is no excuse to delay your wedding day.”

The young man tried hard not to grit his teeth at his Father’s words.

“As Adrien stated,” Gabriel turned to Lila, smiling, “You both don’t know each other. Then how about you young people solve that?” Gabriel suggested, heading for the door. “I have an important meeting I need to attend. Hope you two enjoy each other’s company.”

Saying what he needed to, the older Agreste left, leaving a shy Lila and a flabbergasted Adrien behind.

“So,” Lila spoke in a coy tone, “how about we go somewhere private and get to know each other?”

She subtly hooked her arm on his elbow, her fingers lightly trailing up his arms, causing him to cringe. “Somewhere like your ro—”

“The river side!” Adrien interrupted her, much to her chagrin. “The riverside’s a cool idea, Ms. Rossi. Fresh air with much needed quiet.”

And open space , he mentally added sourly.

Putting on his best grin as he approached the door, Adrien asked in a faux cheerful tone, “So, shall we go?”

Lila blinked stupidly for a moment, then broke into a coy smile of her own. “Sure, Adrien.”

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

“And my uncle was a student of the great Beethoven, oh! I wish I had learnt some piano from him before he passed away,” the brunette said in a simpering tone, dabbing at her eyes to wipe away the non-existent tears.

Beside her, Adrien plastered a sympathetic look on his face as he fought the urge to roll his eyes. In the fifteen minutes he had spent with her, this Rossi girl had just bragged on and on about her family and her charity work.

According to her, she personally knew many famous people around the globe. Surprisingly, even though he was an Agreste, Adrien had never heard someone mention the title Rossi in any influential circle, let alone specifically name Lila.

Though he had to commend her on one thing. The woman had a fabulous ability to weave false stories and lie through her teeth.

“Oh, Adrien,” Lila cooed, holding his arm in what was meant to be a soft gesture but certainly was not, causing him to lean back a bit, “I have been talking only about myself all this time. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?”

He nervously chuckled, rubbing at the nape of his neck in anxiety, “I—uh, you already know much about me, I am not someone unknown in the high-class, right? Uhm, how about you ask me yourself?”

The brunette held her chin in a thoughtful look, apparently thinking of some topic to converse on. Adrien took the beat of silence as a chance to gaze at the river that flowed beside him, his heart calming down a bit on seeing the sparkling waters. Thoughts about the masked beauty who lived underneath the surface helped his anxiety, too.

“Oh! I know what to ask!” Lila suddenly exclaimed, jerking him back to reality. “Is there anything about you that no one knows?”

“Something about me that no one knows?” the blond echoed her question.

“Yes,” she affirmed, leaning into his personal space and causing him to stagger back a little, “you know, since we are soon going to be married, there better be no secrets between us!”

He couldn’t help but stammer. “I, uh—”

Know what? I have a magical cheese-loving black cat who gives me the power to transform into Chat Noir and ALSO! I already have a love interest, a mermaid called Ladybug who is far more beautiful and truthful than you! And woe to me if I am going to tell you anything about this!

Pausing his internal thoughts, Adrien looked towards the river in an attempt to calm himself down. And then an answer came to him.

“Well, since you asked,” he turned to catch Lila’s attention, before looking back at the river again, “I have always felt connected to water.”

“Connected to… water?” Lila echoed his words, disbelief evident in her tone.

“Yes.” The man’s eyes sparkled as he walked to the riverbank and bent down, slightly gliding his hand on the water surface and bringing his wet hand to his eyes, immediately feeling a shiver of pleasure run down his spine. “I feel like the water’s calling out to me, asking me to be one with it.”

There was a pregnant silence between the two, before it was broken by the sound of stifled chuckles. Confused, Adrien turned his head to see the brunette holding a palm over her mouth to prevent laughter from escaping her.

“Did I say something funny, Miss Rossi?” the man asked, his cold tone poorly masking the offense he felt.

“Oh, I-I am sorry Adrien, but…” her voice trailed off as she stifled another laughter, before continuing, “Your thoughts match with the pests of the water.”

“And?” He prompted her, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Well—” the young woman looked at him as if he had asked her about why water existed. Coughing a bit to regain her composure, she continued, “—uhm, you are an Agres—”

“I know who I am and let me tell you, Lila Rossi, my Father’s name does not define my thoughts. I am an independent individual with my own thoughts and feelings, and even if they match with the mermaids or what you call the ‘pests of the water’; I am actually glad they do.”

Getting up, he reached towards Lila, his acidic green eyes causing her to stagger back a bit.

“I-I really didn’t mea-mean to off—” she stammered.

“Save it.”

Saying so, the blond walked off, leaving behind a shocked, yet fuming Rossi girl.

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

“Okay, so she’s just like your Father. And?” Plagg nonchalantly asked, pawing at the ball of yarn that Adrien had tossed to him and completely ignoring his human who laid in his bed, face buried in the pillows.

Adrien lifted his head and exclaimed, “She’s my fiancée, Plagg!”

And plopped his face back into the pillows, muffling his screams.

The cat sighed, pushing the yarn ball away and shaking his head remorsefully. He strutted over to the bed and jumped on his chosen’s back.

“You humans and your melodrama.”

“Whatever, it’s not like you have a secret love interest, you cheese monster,” came the muffled reply.

The cat bounced on the man’s back, before lightly scratching him with a claw and causing him to yelp. “Mind you, my love interest is your Bug’s guardian.”

Adrien turned his head to the side, glancing at his animal friend as a smirk adorned his face.

“Wasn’t Camembert the first and last love of your life?”

“Shush you,” Plagg nudged him on the face, causing the blond to giggle. “Now, if you have stopped moping about your currently messed up civilian life, what plans do you have for wooing your Lady fish tonight?”

Adrien blushed a bit, before his gaze turned to the piano that still stood in the middle of the room. He thought for a moment, then an idea dawned on him.

“I guess I have just the perfect plan, Plagg.”

[miraculousmarinet]

The Miraculous PA Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Chapter 1. A big interview

It’s 6AM on a Saturday and Marinette is up. If she still lived with her parents her mother might have asked her what she had done to her daughter. Marinette was always late and sleeping in you see. But not today! Today was very important to Marinette. She would put the apron down and move onto the world that she had always dreamed of entering. The world of fashion.

As Marinette brushed her teeth she stared at herself in the mirror. She knew that she had to look extra professional and put together. The fashion house she was interviewing for was the biggest name in Paris, if not the whole of France. An internship at Agreste Fashion House could lead to actual designing gigs and a full time job as a designer at almost any fashion house in the western world.

Marinette spat out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth, giving herself a wide toothy grin in the mirror. Seven years of braces in elementary and middle school had really paid off as her pearly whites were lined up perfectly. She then tied her hair back into a professional ponytail and put on some lipgloss and mascara. Her makeup skills weren’t on the same level as her friends Juleka or Rose and definitely not on the same level as her best friend Alyas.

A quick glance at the clock and Marinette was feeling her nerves get the best of her. Even though she got up this early didn’t mean she would make the interview at 8AM, on the other side of the city. She always seemed to have some bad luck when it came to something important. She had spilled coffee on her application to Paris Fashion Institute a few years back and then a few weeks later her portfolio got rained on as she was just about to send it in. By the grace of God or some other entity she still got in, but she was reminded of her bad luck by the headmistress who seemed to have something against her.

Marinette threw on her coat and rushed outside, hailing a cab and telling the driver to take her to the Agreste headquarters. She fiddled with her fingers and looked out the window, seeing the buildings pass her by with leafy green trees that lined the sidewalks. After a long taxi drive she paid the driver and got off. Everything was going well so far, kind of suspicious. Maybe lady luck was on her side today.

The glistening white building clashed with its surroundings. The Agreste Fashion House was the epitome of modern architecture, with steel accents and big windows that served as mirrors to the pedestrians outside. Marinette took a deep breath in and walked through the big front doors. Everything was bright and white, with potted greenery here and there and a screen that showed the newest photoshoot pictures.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng?” a stern voice said behind her.

“Huh? Oh, yes! I mean, that would be me, Marinette”, Marinette rambled as her eyes settled on the tall woman behind her.

“Nathalie Sancoeur. I am here to take you to be interviewed for the position of…” The woman was cut off by a flash of pink that made her lose focus.

That flash of pink was Alix, who was currently rollerskating in circles in the lobby with security on her tail. Alix made it back to the doors and yelled good luck to Marinette, who was pink in her face.

“Do you know her?” Nathalie asked Marinette who shrunk down.

“Eh… Yes? I mean no! I mean…”, Marinette fumbled, not knowing if this was one of those times when a white lie wouldn’t hurt even though she hated lying.

“Let’s go then, follow me”, Nathalie said, completely ignoring poor Marinette and her inner battle.

Marinette straightened her back and followed Nathalie into the elevator. She watched as the number got higher and higher until it reached the second to the top floor, 7. The two women walked out of the elevator and Nathalie opened the first door to their left.

“Wait here”, Nathalie said and left as soon as Marinette had sat down on one of the designer faux leather chairs.

Marinette didn’t have time to ask Nathalie why she had to wait here alone or why she was brought so high up when the designer level was a few floors down. At least that’s what it said on the floor plan in the elevator. She gazed around and she could see people walking outside, some on their way to work and others on a run. It wasn’t too busy, it was only 7.55 AM on a Saturday after all. Time went by painfully slowly and Marinette started to fear the worst. What if this was all a prank? A cruel prank orchestrated by some rich kids with too much time and money on their hands.

“Are you here for the interview?” A light, melodic voice called out and Marinette jumped up off her chair.

“Yes, Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s the name”, she said and cringed internally. Why did she have to be so nervous.

“Great, you know it’s super hard to find candidates for this job that have such a great resume as you do”, the lady said while looking down at a tablet. “Top student at Collège Francoise Dupont, studied at Paris Fashion Institute and graduated with honors”, she read off her tablet and looked up at Marinette.

“Uh, thank you, miss?” Marinette looked at the woman sheepishly.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself! My name is Samantha Melrose”, the supposed interviewer said and extended her hand to Marinette, which she took.

“Now that we got that done, how about we get some coffee and get down to business”, Samantha said and she put her tablet down, smiling at Marinette.

Marinettes nerves seemed to wash away as the interview continued. She got to talk about her fashions, her extracurricular activities that had made her who she is today and her schedule. Totally free, by the way.

When Marinette took the elevator back down she felt relieved and hopeful. Samantha seemed nice and she hoped that they would be working together soon. That is if she got the job. Marinette took out her phone and saw that she had gotten texts from all her friends, wishing her luck and telling her that she would get the job if the employer was smart. She smiled to herself and sent thank you messages back to each and every one of them.

It was now 9.30 AM, the interview had taken longer than what she had initially thought, but she still had time to catch the subway and meet Alya at her parents bakery before 10. Sometimes she was really grateful of the public transport in Paris.

Alya was waiting for Marinette in front of the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie, with her nose deep in her phone. Marinette mused that she was probably texting her boyfriend Nino or maybe she was reading her favourite superhero comic Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Hey Alya!” Marinette walked up to her bestie and with her finger she lowered the phone from Alyas face. “You ready for late breakfast?”

“Mari! You won’t believe what I just read”, Alya practically screamed and pushed her phone to Marinettes face.

It took a few seconds for Marinettes eyes to focus on the screen, but the headline immediately caught her attention.

MODEL ADRIEN AGRESTE SPOTTED IN PARIS

“They are talking about him having a more active role in the business side of things now that he’s 21”, Alya said as she pulled the phone back and put it into her pocket.

“Adriens back from the States?” Marinette asked with excitement in her voice.

“I know he’s your number one celebrity crush so I thought you’d want to know ASAP”, Alya said as she opened the door to Tom and Sabines bakery.

“Adriens back from the States…” Marinette said as she walked inside, completely lost in her thoughts.

“Well hello to you too, Marinette”, Sabine said with a smirk as she put a plate full of fresh pastries down on the corner table that Marinette and Alya frequented.

“Good morning Sabine, Tom”, Alya said cheerily and grabbed a warm ham and cheese filled croissant.

“Good morning Alya, did you get any details about our princesses big interview before she shut down?” Tom boomed from behind the counter as Sabine was ringing down a client.

“Didn’t quite get to it yet. Just wait a few minutes, she won’t stay in the clouds forever”, Alya said as she munched on the croissant.

I have 4 chapters up on AO3 for your reading pleasure. Here’s a link to the work:

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/23586745/chapters/56594440

[minimenace]

Felix live thoughts:

i still don’t get why gabriel, who is known to wear his ring, is polishing both his and emilie’s rings

nathalie smiling at gabe aww

WAIT DOES ADRIEN SHIP NATHALIE AND GABE???

WAVE WAVE

its been a year???

cat song from chat blanc

sitting together, bonding time??

gabriel: i need to tell adrien im hawk moth and its for the greater good - the greatest good id ever get - emilie’s ass

adrien: oh dad i know

gabe: wHAT??

adrien: yeah...you and nathalie  👀 im cool

gabe: YOU FUCKER DONT DISGRACE YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT

not that adrien knows his mom is even alive smh

gabe, you can’t expect your son to be all hopeful when there’s nothing he knows of to be hopeful for

gabe: bitch get ready cousin you is coming

1 year since emilie ‘went for cigarettes’

adrien: healing  😌

gabe: 

marinette’s first act as class president: class meeting!!!! (plus luka and kagami) we need to cure adrien of his depression

adrien is hallucinating his mom isn’t he

wait it’s his mom’s twin isn’t it

IT IS

amelie and emilie huh

gabe is not “NO get out”

grouch kitten time!!!

felix getting hugged: bitch...fine ok

so felix and adrien’s favorite game as kids was Parent Confusion huh

gabe: how dare you shake my hand

felix: how dare you not shake my hand

so gabemilie wedding rings were from her family

emilie’s maiden name was NOT agreste...bitch no im DYING with this headcanon

felix whats to know what the FUCK is up with kyle gabriel

marinette...no...do not tell your crush you’re in love with him when you’re trying to console him about his missing mom

ok slightly better

bitch you’re still recording

is this gonna be another copycat where marinette tries to get the phone to delete the message

wait this is LITERALLY another copycat

YES TIKKI GET ANGRY

“I’m really sorry I didn’t come to your dad’s funeral” OH BITCH NOW I GET WHY HE HATES YOU

explains why they’re wearing black

felix with bryce’s voice hits bad

he needs kousei arima...max mittelman...pLAGG

“you do everything your dad tells you to” “oh well yeah you know”

do do do do-dUUHN

adrien and felix used to challenge each other in chess...nerds

plagg: “you’re cousin is being sus BUT HE TOUCHED MY CHEESE THAT UNFORGIVABLE”

plagg: *points out adrien’s mother is* adrien: *gets sad* plagg: oh baby fuck im so sorry

felix i know adrien is complete dumbass but you cannot call him an idiot!!!

wait is felix gonna find out marinette is ladybug because she was recording for so long

wAIT IS FELIX GONNA TRY TO SET UP MARINETTE AND ADRIEN BY DRESSING UP AS ADRIEN AND SEDUCING LADYBUG SINCE MARINETTE IS SUPPOSEDLY LADYBUG

probably not lol

felix fuck you im the only one allowed to make fun of nino’s dudebro accent

felix bby youre not building a good case for yourself by making fun of my babies

also bryce is trying to do a lower voice and he just sounds dudebro

wait is felix gonna rip chloe a new one

YES felix and chloe knew each other

the one time chloe is being genuinely nice for no discernable reason and felix is like “fucker”

well with the season finale we know it doesn’t matter

...annoyinG

FUCK

marinette time bitch lets see what happens im scared

ok thats mean

the writers are trying very hard to make me hate felix but joke’s on them, i’ll never hate anyone on this show

no joke i used to hate theo and call him a pedo and now i’m like “aww poor baby”

wait where is theo i havent seen him around

ok he deleted the videos so immmmmmmmmm hmmm

felix getting ready to cause havoc

ok luka is kind of a joke

*strums guitar* im supportive. this is my personality.

i cant really be mad about felix sending that mean message but adrien deserves to be a feral kitty

fel-ien: i renounce all my friends y’alllll SUCK

me: ...

calls out chloe specifically: NO THATS MEAN but true

marinette: there’s no way adrien can be mean he’s an absolute...aNGEL (how does that meme go)

i mean she has a point because he’d never call chloe out like tHAT

lila spying for gabe seems to be a good thing but im concerned about what gabe will be doing with this video

oh ok they knew it was felix

nathalie: so uh...sir...now’s a good time to um...akumatize some vulnerable kids...

gabe: ok amelie lets see how you feel about THIS akuma attack

gabe getting people to go chase down your “son” is still going to inevitably hurt your son

im fairly certain that max and kim know marinette is ladybug at this point 

*announcer voice* and in the confusion, reflekta, lady wifi, and princess fragrance were deakumatized because they couldn’t figure out who to be mad at

WHICH ONE OF YOU IS THE FAKE ADRIEN they all shout. “idk what do you think” says adrien 1 to adrien 2

adrien: *starts acting all mean*

punishers: IT MUST BE HIM

nathalie: STOP IT ADRIEN

punishers: wait who

adrien: muwahauwah i wonder who I could BE AJAHAHAHA

felix: bro why the fuck are you covering for me

nathalie get your grove on

hawkie: bitches Y’ALL THAT FUCK ASS IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU

felix: ha...no?

felix: oh well...KONO FELIX DA- LET’S FIGHT

istg if felix has his own miraculous

ladybug saves fel-ien

fel-ien: i love you

activates “smooch”

marinette: *has flashbacks to spook-drien* uhhh no

felix you’re being very menacing about this kiss

ok... i feel like marinette going “NO MEANS FUCKING NO” is a brownie points moment just the entire structure of the scene...also she has no reason to suspect adrien is not adrien, so the punching is just...intensely weird to me

this also feels like astruc trying to be like “FELIX IS THE OPPOSITE OF ADRIEN WHO IS A PERFECT GENTLEMAN AND RESPECTS WOMEN AND THEIR BOUNDARIES” when like um i dunno, adrien ALSO tries to kiss women (ladybug) without their consent but those moments are always treated as comedy so you’re not being very slick with this scene

side note; idk why when a male morally dark end character gets into a fight or something with a girl very one goes “THAT’S SEXIST”, like basically what you’re saying is “you can’t hit girls” which in itself IS sexist. everyone can be punched. don’t fucking hold back.

side note; you shouldn’t punch ANYONE

“You’re not Adrien, he would never be so pushy!” *looks at chat noir* uhhh....

i mean good deduction skills tho? i still think it’s pretty hastily and badly written

adrien is fucking OUTING his cousin lmao

i feel like there was pre-existing tension

felix: is actually ashamed for once

FELIX VISION

lb: great!!! now break the tablet felix: bitch this is some good fucking money i aint breaking it

felix and lila are the moth gang

hawk moth: why felix: uncle give me your fucking jewelry

felix: manipulate the situation...and profit

that has got to be the GREATEST defeat ever...truly lucky

felix looks like he thinks that he’s going to jail

adrien: dude wtf amelie: ...his dad- felix: no dude that was pretty fucked up, ill own up to it

“i hope to become a better person and see you again soon!” this was one concentrated bad incident but yeah ok

FELIX GOING FOR THE HUG

the tone is making me think this is supposed to be inauthentic and he doesn’t mean it but im hoping this isn’t the case.

but if it is genuine, it sounds like there’s a tacked on “learn to be better- from you” which like, yeah adrien is better than felix we get it but you don’t need to emphasis adrien as a model dude when he’s like tier 1 good guy. he’s decent. lmao.

wait felix has always been wearing a ring i didn’t notice

awww felix and gabriel made up.

wait

what even happened between them to begin with.

huh

adrien: aw sHIT CUZ WAIT gabe: nO DAVIC

adrien: if you need to talk in here felix: thanks

astruc: see he’s morally superior

did felix just gift adrien some expensive cheese lmao

felix: hey i feel bad, i replaced your cheese

adrien : *records message to thank everyone and says “i love you”* marinette: *obsessively plays back the “i love you”*

marinette: ill take what i can get

FELIX DID YOU UST FUCKING STEAL THIS MAN’S WEDDING RING I MEAN I KNOW HES MORALLY QUESTIONABLE IF NOT DESPICABLE BUT YOU’RE NOT MUCH BETTER YOU KNOW

so felix really is a magician huh

i feel like him and jean duparc would get along

oh so there’s history behind the rings?

“where it belongs” everyone hates gabe huh. wuh happened

gabe why are you taking your wife’s ring

it’s like he needs that thing to function

the ring: why you so obsessed with me

is it like an anti-nathalie charm or something

gabe: bitch get it together yOU’RE MARRIED, YOU’RE WIFE IS DOWNSTAIRS

the beef is, probably like all things, related to the miraculous

HAPPY END OF THE SEASON!!!!!!

[thenovelartist]

Letters to Ladybug,pt 2

Ack! This took so long to finish, but it’s done!! YAY! :D

<<First

~ AO3 ~ Fanfiction ~ Support me on Ko-Fi ~

“I hope you’re happy,” Plagg snarked.

Nino snorted. “Don’t let him fool you,” he said with a grin. “He enjoyed his time with the princess just fine. A little too well, if you ask me.”

Plagg growled at him.

But Adrien wasn’t really paying attention. His mind was fully on a woman with dark curls and creamy skin that was complimented by a vivid red dress. And blue eyes.

Blue eyes he never got to see.

He sighed. Just as well. He was to meet the princess today. He needed to not be focused on a woman that he would never see again. A woman who was engaged to be married herself. A woman he needed to forget.

He wished he could say he would with a little time, but he had a feeling that it would be a vain effort. He would not be able to part with her letters or drawings. He couldn’t not have something to remember her by. Maybe time would dull the ache of her absence, but he couldn’t see forgetting her happening.

A knock on the door signaled the time for Adrien to meet his father in his office, where there would be an official introduction to his new wife and her family. Reluctantly, he headed to the door. Before he could exit his room, Nino grabbed his shoulder, giving him an apologetic smile. Plagg grabbed his other shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

From Plagg, that meant a lot. “Thanks,” Adrien said. “I still owe you two for last night.”

“You do,” Plagg agreed. “Later. For now, go meet your new wife and tell us how wonderful she is.”

Adrien gave them a thankful smile before heading out the door to greet Nathalie.

“Your father is waiting for you in his office.”

Adrien nodded. “Thank you, Nathalie.”

She nodded before marching off.

“Well,” Adrien said, straightening his coat. “Here we go.”

He marched down to his father’s office, hands clenched so they wouldn’t shake. He was nervous, for he was to meet his new wife shortly. He was a prince; he’d been raised for this, yet he feared what this woman could be like. What if Adrien didn’t like her? What if she was like Chloe or Lila or any of the other women who clung to him for his looks and status?

He shook his head clear. Whoever she was, she would be his wife, and he would treat her well.

He gave the door to his father’s office a knock before he entered the room, only to find it empty sans his father at the desk. Adrien stood by his father’s right shoulder, ready to greet the woman who was to be his bride.

Moments later, the royal family of Miraculous walked in. Adrien’s gaze immediately landed on the young princess, and his eyes widened. She was beautiful, to be sure. Black curls cascaded over her milky white shoulders. The red of her dress was striking, and it reminded him far too much of another woman he’d met.

“King Gabriel,” the King of Miraculous, a large man, greeted with a bow. “Prince Adrien.”

“King Tom,” his father returned. “Queen Sabine, Princess Marinette.”

The women curtsied.

“Adrien,” his father suggested. “Why don’t you take the princess on a tour of the gardens.”

It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a demand. “Of course, father.” He walked over to the princess and offered his elbow for her to take. “Shall we?”

She looked at him, that disappointed tilt of her lips replaced by a look of surprise. Slowly, she placed her arms around his elbow. “We shall.”

…

He was handsome, Marinette would give him that. But he was quiet. That couldn’t be his personality; Tikki assured her that last night, the prince couldn’t stop talking to her.

She tried to convince herself the silence gave her more time to process the events of last night and attempt to hide her heartbreak. However, she knew it was hardly fair to Adrien that she wasn’t trying to be more friendly. He was to be her husband, and she would submit like the wife she had been raised to become.

Suddenly, a rose appeared before her. It startled her a moment, causing her to look up at the man who held in in front of her.

“I know that this is sudden,” he began. “For both of us. But the last thing I wish is for us to be on poor terms. Forgive me for not being talkative this morning. I suppose I’m lost for words. I haven’t the faintest idea what to say to a woman who is to become my wife before the week is over.”

She looked at the peace offering: a red rose that was rich in color. Then she looked back up to Prince Adrien, taking in his golden locks and handsome face and vivid green eyes that she could see herself getting lost in. This was to be her husband, and he was clearly extending a peace offering here and now with a rose and a reassuring smile.

Slowly, she took the rose from him, then let a small smile loose. “How about we start with a hello, then you could tell me… what’s your favorite hobby?”

…

The wedding was made to be a much bigger event than it should have been. People in the streets celebrated the union between the kingdoms, knowing it would bring security and trade, and therefore, prosperity. However, according to Plagg, the townspeople were just pleased to have an excuse to throw a festival.

At least it brought happiness and cheer. Adrien wouldn’t deny his kingdom that.

After the ceremony at the church and the large, joyous banquet held in honor of the newlyweds and united kingdoms, Adrien wanted nothing more than to go to bed for the night. However, the woman walking at his side reminded him that there was more than sleep to a wedding night.

Adrien glanced at his bride, one who still dawned her wedding gown and veil. They had been shooed up to his room by the half-drunk crowd in the banquet hall that was sure to be sent away soon enough. And even though they had traversed the halls together, they hadn’t spoken a word to each other. Marinette had yet to look his direction, or even raise her gaze from the floor.

He led her into his room, opening the door for them. She let go of his elbow and stepped inside, still never looking him in the eye. He knew why. No matter how well they had gotten along, the fact was they still only knew each other for barely a week. He guessed she wasn’t any more comfortable than he was with the prospect of what the night was supposed to entail.

“Marinette,” He said, shutting the door behind him. “I have a proposition.”

Finally, she raised her eyes to look at him. Even in the low lighting, he could tell those blue eyes of hers held fear. Though they’d only known each other a short time, he already knew he hated that look on her. She was charming and sweet; innocent and child-like. Roses amused her more than jewelry did. And she held herself with pride and competence, but never once was she cruel.

The best part was he didn’t think it was an act. He’d watched her from a distance many a time, and never once was she any different than when he was by her side. This was a woman he could learn to love, but for right now, his love for her would be shown as respect for her comfort. His wife she may be, she clearly wasn’t comfortable with being here with him.

He couldn’t have that.

“Yes?” she asked.

He sighed. “I don’t think… either of us are ready for tonight.”

He saw the beginnings of a blush on her cheeks and chest as she turned away from him.

“My proposition is that we consummate our marriage at a later date.”

After a moment, Marinette turned back to him. “But won’t your kingdom be expecting an heir as soon as possible?”

Adrien sucked in a breath. “That is true,” he said. “But I’m sure they won’t mind waiting another one or two months before then.”

She looked surprised to say the least. “I…” she swallowed. “I would appreciate it more than you know…”

His smile faded. “What is it?”

She bit her lip. “In my kingdom,” she said. “There is a tradition where someone is sent to peek into the bedrooms after a wedding night and report to the court. It’s… it’s supposed to signal if the wife was submissive or not. If she was in her husband’s bed, then the court is assured she is a good wife. If the husband is in the wife’s, then she forced her husband to chase her, and it’s not seen as a good sign.”

“And you’re worried that tradition will extend here,” he finished.

She nodded, bowing her head and gaze locking on the floor once again.

He sighed. “Then,” he began. “How about this?” He reached for her hands to hold in his. This got her to look back up at him. “We both share my bed tonight,” he said. “I cannot let disgrace come to your head. But we still do not have to consummate our union tonight. We can wait.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re certain?” she asked.

He gave her a smile he hoped was gentle. “I think it would be for the better.”

“I’m certainly not going to argue with you,” she said, her posture already less rigid. “But… I do need one more thing.”

“And that is?”

Her blush returned full force. “Um… I’ll need…help… out of my wedding dress.”

…

Marinette didn’t want to get out of bed. Surprisingly.

Yesterday had been her wedding, and she had mentally prepared herself the previous week for the wedding night. But after her husband fully assured her that he’d rather wait, the tears she had held back all day wouldn’t stay in. He’d been so gentle with her last night, holding her caringly as she cried herself to sleep.

She knew he was a good man. He was a bit reserved, but over the week she’d known him, he’d proven himself to be considerate and gentle. His smile was sweet, and he always regarded her with respect. Maybe that was what had made it easier to accept that she would have to give herself to him on her wedding night.

Yet, when it came down to it, she’d been worried, even though she did everything she could to be strong.

He’d helped her escape the confines of her wedding dress, but he never made any move to cause her to think he stepped back from his promise. He allowed her to escape to her room, where she found a night gown to wear. Only then did she return to his room to see that he, too, had changed out of his wedding ensemble and into a pair of night clothes.

Actually, only a pair of night pants. He was bare chested, which only caused her face to heat.

Yet, even in that state, he never stopped reassuring her, and she didn’t feel uncomfortable with him. Even as she cried that night, still flabbergasted yet thankful that he did not want to claim his marital rights immediately, he was patient and kind with her.

She was sure he would be a good husband to her. As a princess, she was extraordinarily lucky in that respect. She supposed she really was a Ladybug.

Her eyes were heavy to open, but when she did, she found her husband was laying awake on his back, clearly lost in his thoughts as he stared up to the ceiling. Tentatively, she reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder.

Immediately, he turned to her and gave her a smile. “Good morning,” he began quietly.

“Good morning,” she returned, her voice hoarse from the tearful night. “Did… did you sleep well?”

“I did,” he assured, rolling over on his side. “Are you feeling better?”

She nodded, still feeling a bit embarrassed for crying so much last night. “I am, thank you.”

He took hold of her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I’m glad.”

She gave his hand a squeeze. “And thank you,” she said. “Thank you for everything.”

His smile brightened. “You’re welcome.”

“I mean it,” she said, squeezing his hand tighter. “Thank you.”

He gave her hands a squeeze back, and as she looked into his eyes, she felt safe here with him. “You’re very welcome, Marinette.”

…

Even before he’d met Marinette, Adrien knew he would need to pursue her faithfully and be the best husband he could to her. Though he had once worried it might be a struggle, Adrien found himself more than willing to go out of his way to woo his lovely wife. Her smile was a thing of beauty, her eyes always taking on mirthful gleam. Her laugh was quiet and reserved, with him, but he’d once heard her unabashedly laugh with her lady-in-waiting, and he wanted to make her laugh like that.

One day, that would happen. He was sure of it. But that wouldn’t happen unless he found her.

Instead, he found Plagg leaning idlily a wall.

“Don’t you have work to do?” Adrien challenged.

“It’s amazing how much more I can get done in a day when I don’t have letters to go fetch,” he said, standing upright. “Is that for the princess?”

Adrien glanced at the rose between his fingers. “Yes,” he said.

Plagg nodded. “It’s good to see you wooing her.”

“She is my wife. I think it should be my duty.”

“Not all men would think that,” Plagg said.

“I’m not all men.”

“That is true,” Plagg admitted. “But, surely you find her worth wooing in the first place.”

Adrien pursed his lips. “True,” he admitted. “I know I don’t always have the best of luck, but I was lucky enough to be blessed with a decent woman to be married to. Particularly since it was arranged.”

“Very lucky,” Plagg said. “I just saw her in the sunroom, if you wanted to know. Her and her lady-in-waiting are there.”

She wasn’t alone, then. Shame.

“I’m sure I could convince Nino to distract said lady, if you want,” Plagg said.

Adrien quirked a brow. “You’re being oddly helpful.”

Plagg smirked. “Not because you deserve it, that’s for sure. You still owe me. But Nino and Lady Alya did strike it off quite well at the masquerade.”

“Did they, now?” Adrien asked, surprised. “Why wasn’t I told?”

“Nino didn’t think it was important with all the other events and issues happening. You were heartbroken over your Ladybug as well as engaged to marry a woman within a week of meeting her. A fast time for a marriage, might I say, but it was done in good timing. One of the kingdoms to the north threatened Kingdom Miraculous right before the wedding, only to retract it once the union took place. Together, we are larger than either one of those kingdoms.”

“Not by much,” Adrien said. “But with those two kingdoms being in a scrimmage with each other, neither one can afford to get into battles that would cause them to use resources. Whether or not we’d win isn’t the point, but we are strong enough to cause them some serious trouble.”

Plagg nodded. “Hopefully, it discourages either of those kingdoms from coming after us. The last thing we need is to get into a war we have no stakes in.”

Adrien nodded. “Let’s keep our fingers crossed, shall we?”

“At this point, it’s all we can do. Now, go woo your princess.”

With a smile, Adrien patted Plagg’s shoulder. “Get back to work.”

“I’m resting,” Plagg retorted. “One of the many things you owe me.”

“I’m sure you can find better things to spend that favor on than a nap, Plagg,” he sassed back.

Plagg chuckled. “True,” he said, standing from the wall and marching off. “Very true.”

…

“I’m proud of you,” Alya commented, snapping Marinette from her reverie.

“Pardon?”

“You haven’t read any of Chat’s letters since you got married.”

Marinette sighed, her heart hurting at the mere mention of the letters. She hadn’t read them even though she wanted to. She was trying to distance herself as much as she could from Chat so she could give everything she could to her husband.

Alya must have sensed her internal struggle. “Hey,” Alya said, setting aside her needlework. “You should draw something for him.”

“Who?”

“Your husband,” Alya said. “He doesn’t know you draw yet, does he? You should surprise him with something.”

Marinette sighed. “I don’t know, Alya.”

“Why not?” she challenged. “It would be good for you to draw something. You haven’t touched a pencil since you learned you were engaged.”

Alya was right; it had been hard to bring herself to draw again since half of the joy of drawing had been from being able to give it to Chat.

Before Marinette could give Alya an answer, her friend had already rung the bell. “And when someone comes up to answer, we’ll get you some drawing supplies. I have no doubt you’ll thank me later.”

It wasn’t long before Marinette had some paper and charcoal before her. Now, the largest question was what to draw in the first place.

She stared at the paper for a while before a rose appeared before her. Startled, Marinette spun around to see Adrien standing behind her. “Good afternoon,” he greeted with a smile. “I came to give you a small gift that made me think of you.”

She looked back to the rose, her heart skipping a beat. “For me?”

“Who else?” he teased. “Of course, for you, my dear.”

My dear? she thought, taking the rose from him. He’d yet to call her any endearment, so this one felt sweetly genuine. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

He smiled. “I was going to ask if you would take a walk with me,” he began. “But I didn’t know you were busy.”

“I’m not,” Marinette said, happily setting aside the paper. Her muses simply weren’t coming, and she was pleased with any distraction at this point. “I would love to go for a walk with you.”

The happiness in his expression was enough to warm her heart and encourage her to do anything she could to see it again. “Then, my dear, shall we?”

She wrapped her arms over his extended elbow. “We shall.”

…

The knock on the door startled Adrien. He’d been so focused he hadn’t noticed Nino enter his office. “How long have you been there?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and begging his heart to slow down.

“Not long,” Nino said, stepping fully into the office and shutting the door behind him. “I was looking everywhere for you, buddy.”

“Sorry,” Adrien said. “I’ve been preoccupied.”

Nino gave a nod. “With?”

“Poetry.”

Nino’s eyes widened. “You haven’t written since Ladybug.”

“That was only a few weeks ago.”

“Six,” Nino corrected. “You used to write daily.”

Six? Had it really been that long since he’d written his last letter to Ladybug? That would mean that it had been around four weeks since he’d seen her and three since he married Marinette. Where had the time gone? It still felt like only yesterday he was blessed enough to have the opportunity to dance with her.

“No matter how irritating you get with your obnoxiously romantic writings,” Nino teased, “It’s good to see you writing again.”

Adrien gave a half smile. “I’m really struggling with this poem, though. Verses for Ladybug used to come so easily. It’s hard to write something for Marinette.”

“I don’t get how, but what do I know?” Nino said with a shrug. “Can’t you write things like you did for Ladybug.”

“No, I have to temper any feelings, for one,” Adrien began. “Our relationship is still new, and I don’t want to startle her with profound love confessions that wouldn’t be completely true in the first place. We haven’t consummated our marriage yet; you know.” Adrien felt a light blush dust his cheeks. He’d only told Nino after his friend had given him a large amount of ribbing the week after his marriage. “And our relationship is blooming really well right now. I have to be careful.”

“So write about that,” Nino said as though it was obvious. “About how you want a relationship with her.”

Adrien stared at the page, Nino’s words rolling through his mind. A blooming relationship, like the roses she liked so well. “That’s not a bad idea,” Adrien said, pulling out a clean sheet of paper.

Nino snorted in amusement. “Glad I could help. I’m not going to be able to convince you to shoot some arrows now, am I?”

“No.”

“I figured as much.”

…

He was a beautiful poet; she couldn’t deny it. His writing was very touching and earnest, but all she could think of was how it wasn’t Chat.

“I’m a horrible person,” she muttered.

“No, you’re not,” Tikki chastised from where she stood at Marinette’s dresser, putting away the clean laundry.

Marinette turned around in her seat to look at Tikki. “You don’t even know what I’m thinking about.”

“I don’t have to; you’re not a horrible person.”

Marinette sighed, turning back to the poem on her desk. “But Adrien wrote me a poem—”

“He’s a poet?”

“And a good one,” she said. “But all I can think of is Chat.”

Tikki gave her a pitying look before walking up to Marinette and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It must be hard, but you have to admit that Adrien has been nothing but a good husband to you.”

“I know,” Marinette said, reaching up to hold Tikki’s arms in place. “Which is why I feel so horrible comparing his work to Chat’s.”

“I’m sure that soon enough, Adrien’s poetry will be all you think of,” Tikki said.

“If he writes me any more.”

“Tell him you loved it. I’m sure you can subtly encourage him to continue writing more things for you. I know!” Tikki said, pulling back from her embrace. “What if you drew him a little something?”

Marinette chuckled. “You and Alya both suggested that. But the last time I tried, I couldn’t think of anything to draw.”

“That’s because you always used to draw when you were inspired by Chat’s work. What if you drew something based on what Adrien wrote you?”

Marinette looked at the poem with newfound interest. “Do you think so?”

“I think anything to put a smile back on your face when you have a pencil in your hand would be a good thing.”

Marinette stared at the poem, images of roses coming to mind. “I… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

…

Adrien had to admit, waking up with Marinette at his side was growing to become one of his favorite things. How he found such a simple thing so enjoyable, he didn’t know. But he was now very used to the comfort of having her to hold at night and having her holding him in return.

He gave into the urge of kissing her temple and was rewarded by a sleepy smile.

He was a very lucky man, indeed, that he was granted such a luxury as this.

Adrien was reluctant to move from his spot, knowing he would wake her if he did. Therefore, he spent time thinking of a new poem for her. In response to the first poem he gave to her, she responded with a drawing of roses. For a moment, he had felt as though he was conversing with Ladybug all over again, and that had driven him to write more for her.

While he tried his best to not compare her to Ladybug, he failed more often than he cared to admit. He even started looking through Ladybug’s drawings again with a hope that maybe something would spark an idea for a poem for his wife. Nothing had caught his interest as of yet, but he wasn’t finished. He still held out a hope that he’d find something.

After all, he relished any time Marinette rewarded him with a smile. He wanted to see how large and uninhibited it could be.

…

It had been five weeks since the wedding, and Marinette could say that while she had yet to fall fully in love with her husband, she would admit she was on her way to. It was hard to not fall for him a little when he was such a gentleman.

And if Marinette were being honest, the fact he wrote her poetry helped a little.

It felt as though she was with Chat again, him sending her romantic poetry. This poetry was far tamer, expressing only budding feelings, yet it held a genuineness that touched her in a similar way that Chat Noir’s poetry did. It also helped spark her desire to draw more often. So, when Adrien presented her with yet another poem a few days ago, she spent her time drawing a scene for him. One that he depicted in his work.

She knocked on the door to his office, only for the door to crack open. “Adrien?” she called out. Except he didn’t answer.

Carefully, she pushed open the door, only to find the office was empty.

She frowned. She’d wanted to give this to him in person, but she’d already searched everywhere and still couldn’t find him. She supposed she could just leave it on his desk for him to find when he returned. Surely, he would find it a nice surprise.

She walked into the room to place the drawing on the desk, only to catch sight of another image. It caused her to pause, as she stared at the upside-down drawing: the image of two people dancing.

It was impossible to take her eyes off the drawing. Slowly, she placed her current drawing down on the desk so she could reach for the one that held her full attention. One that felt so familiar.

One that she’d given Chat.

As she stared at her drawing, one that had been folded in order to fit in the envelope, her mind started reeling. There was only one reason he would have it. One way he could.

And she wasn’t sure her heart could take the answer.

It couldn’t be that simple, could it? That Adrien was Chat Noir? No. Certainly not. Tikki said she danced with the prince that night. Adrien had spent the night dancing with Tikki.

But then she thought of that night, thought of the man who had led her around the garden. Thought of his stature, his hair, his voice. And all she could see… was Adrien.

Her breathing increased. Didn’t he tell her that night that he had an arranged marriage as well? That he would have to cut off correspondence to be loyal to his future wife.

Tears threatened to spill over as she set the picture down.

“Marinette?”

Instantly, she spun, coming face to face with Adrien.

…

He was surprised to see Marinette in his office. However, it certainly wasn’t an unwelcomed one. What was unwelcome was the tears in her eyes.

“My dear,” he cooed, ready to take her into his arms and hold her until she settled. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re Chat Noir?”

He froze, his eyes wide and chest suddenly tight. “P-pardon?”

“You’re Chat Noir,” she tearfully choked out.

As he watched the tears trail down her cheeks, he snapped to action, quickly wiping them away with his thumbs.

“You’re my Chat Noir,” she whispered, staring up at him.

And that’s when it hit him, his gut sinking and breath growing short. “Ladybug.”

A choked-up sob escaped through her smile. “Hello, my Black Cat.”

His world was suddenly spinning as he was suddenly taken back to that night, of dancing with a woman in red, her black curls shining in the moonlight. His eyes then locked on hers at the memory of him catching her before she ran off, begging to know what color her eyes were.

“They’re so beautiful.”

“Hmm?”

“Your eyes,” he whispered. “I didn’t imagine that they’d be this blue.”

Another sob escaped her, and Adrien wasted no time cocooning her up against his chest, reveling in how her hair brushed against his jaw as she choked out a few more sobs on his shoulder.

“How did you discover that?” he asked once she had calmed.

“I saw my drawing on your desk,” she answered. “One of the last ones I sent you.”

He sighed. “I couldn’t help myself. Your work inspired some of my poems. I was hoping to draw some inspiration from it again to write to you.”

She chuckled, and he wished that she would laugh more often. It was a sound that he’d grown quite fond of and wanted to hear more often. “I was just about to give you another drawing. One of the scenery you described in your last poem.”

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked. “I feel as though it’s not my best work.”

“It’s still lovely,” she assured. “Though I cannot lie, I much prefer your romantic works.”

“I can give you those again.”

“I would enjoy that very much.”

…

Marinette had spent the rest of the day right at her husband’s side. The announcement that dinner was ready was surprisingly unwelcomed as they were enjoying talking about everything and nothing. It felt like a whole other side to her husband had been exposed to her, and she was reveling in it.

After dinner, Adrien had caught hold of her hand and they had slipped away form the others in attendance at dinner. “Come with me?” he asked. “I want to show you something.”

Marinette bit her lip. “What?”

“It’s a surprise,” he said with a smile that caused her heart to race.

It made it impossible to say no. “All right.”

With a widening grin, he took her hand and led her outside. He called for a stable boy to saddle up two horses.

It didn’t take long for the men to tack up the horses. Adrien lifted her up onto one of the horses before mounting up one of his own.

He then guided the horse off into the fading night, glancing back to ensure she was following. She lead the horse up beside him.

“Are you comfortable riding fast?” he asked.

Marinette nodded, prompting Adrien to kick his horse on. Marinette did the same, and they cantered off into the sunset.

And when they stopped, she couldn’t help but gape at the scenery.

“This river,” Adrien said, dismounting. “Is the place I envision when I wrote several of the poems I sent you, including the one you chastised me for for being too lewd.”

Marinette allowed him to assist her down from the mount. “I…” She felt a blush return at the thought of that poem. “It’s not lewd between two lovers,” she said, certain she was blushing at this point. “But it was too much for a woman who wanted to be able to have sweet affections from a man she never met.”

Surprise was clear on Adrien’s face, and Marinette bowed her head in embarrassment.

But then he chuckled, cradling her chin and lifting her head to face him again. “I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble, my lady. But…” A charmingly lopsided grin stretched across his face. “Seeing as you are now my wife, would you allow me to indulge in some of those behaviors.”

It was hard to breathe as her heart thundered in her chest and her stomach twisted into knots. “You may,” she answered breathlessly. Because this was her husband. Her love. Hers. Just as she was his. She had once wanted his affection like this, and now… now it seemed she would be rewarded with it.

If she didn’t faint first.

He took her in his arms, and she was instantly reminded of their first night, dancing together under disguises.

But then… that meant…

“Adrien?”

“What is it, my love?”

She took a breath. “If you were dancing with me in the gardens that night, then… who did my maid dance with?”

“Your maid?” he asked, confused.

She nodded. “I sent her to pretend to be me so I could dance with you in the gardens. I’d been told the prince was waiting for me…” She trailed off, mostly because he was no longer listening.

He was laughing. Loud and freely. “I sent my butler,” he said through his chuckles. “Because I simply couldn’t leave you, Ladybug, stranded there, waiting in the gardens for me.”

As soon as his words sank in, Marinette couldn’t help but laugh with him, their dance to the song of the crickets coming to a complete halt.

“We are terrible!” she cried. “Leaving our fiancés with a servant so we could meet with each other.”

“It really is horrible, isn’t it?” Adrien agreed. “What a terrible first impression.”

“We don’t deserve our spouses.”

“We certainly do not. How forgiving they are for our indiscretion.”

“Such scandalous behavior.”

Adrien calmed. “It is,” he said. “And looking back, I would like to apologize for it. Leaving you with my butler. It was so rude of me.”

Marinette took a moment to really think about it, how childish and immature she was to force her friend into such a situation. To lie to her fiancé so she could meet a man she���d never met yet loved from his letters. “I’m sorry, too.”

Adrien gave her hands a squeeze, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. “It’s almost not fair,” he said. “That we were so lucky; that the two unfaithful royals end up with each other.”

“A blessing, indeed,” Marinette agreed.

“But I have to wonder,” he said, pulling away. “Is it fair or honest that I only fell fully in love with you once you admitted you were Ladybug? Is that unfair to Marinette?”

Her lip found her way between her teeth. He asked such a good and honest question, and she couldn’t help but wonder the same thing. Was if fair to Adrien that her love bloomed quickly only when she discovered her was Chat Noir? “I…” She swallowed, hoping her words would be steady. “I think… Chat Noir and Ladybug had been so close for a lot longer than Adrien and Marinette even know each other. And that… that it’s understandable that Chat Noir would have strong feelings for Ladybug and vice versa. And I think, that considering that we are Chat Noir and Ladybug, that Adrien and Marinette could have fallen for each other, too. Given time.”

Adrien regarded her carefully. “I would like to think the same,” he said, his hand traveling from cupping her cheek to threading through her hair. “Because I feel as though I was slowly falling for Marinette, and that I honestly could have loved her deeply with time.”

Marinette was very thankful he was holding her up with an arm around his waist, because her knees felt weak. “And I think,” she responded. “That given time, I could have fallen in love with Adrien.”

His smile was the brightest thing in the night. Brighter than the full moon. Brighter than any of the fireflies dancing in the field. “Marinette,” he spoke reverently, cradling the back of her head in a tender way that sent her mind flying back to the second to last poem he’d sent her. And she couldn’t help but wonder if this was the night she’d know just what such tender, loving affections felt like. “May I kiss you?”

Her answer was a simple one. “Yes.”

[queer-cosette]

Coco Writes

OK, so I know I’m not always great about summarising my fics on here; I usually just post links. But here is a masterpost of all my fics!

Les Miserables

The Leader And The Cynic

Rated T

1/1 chapter; 1226 words

Summary:

A series of moments from the relationship of Enjolras and Grantaire. Because now my happiness depends on the happiness of fictional revolutionaries. Modern AU

Read on FF.net

Series - On Se Sent Comme Par Magie

The Destiny Of Cosette

Rated T

No Archive Warnings Apply

22/22 chapters; 88,475 words

Summary:

Cosette is an ordinary Parisian teenager - until one day, she stumbles across a powerful Faery being attacked by an ogre! And when she inadvertently uses magic to protect the Faery, Enjolras, she realises that she’s maybe not as normal as she thought. Enjolras invites her to attend Faery school in another dimension with him, where they become friends with three other faeries - Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine - and form Les Amis. But all is not well in the Magic Dimension -

What’s the deal with Grantaire, Marius, Bahorel and Combeferre - four cute wizards from another school?

What are Patron-Minette - a trio of witches - planning?

And who is Fantine, the mysterious Nymph who keeps appearing in Cosette’s dreams?

Read on AO3

The Shadow Phoenix

Rated T

No Archive Warnings Apply

26/26 chapters; 165,435 words

Summary:

Les Amis start their second year at Musain College for Faeries, and right off the bat, strange things begin happening in the Magic Dimension. Musichetta, a water Faery, arrives at the school begging for help to rescue her friends, the Piskies, and Patron-Minette have busted out of rehabilitation with the help of a strange skeletal knight - who matches Musichetta’s description of the Piskies’ kidnapper. With the help of Musichetta, Feuilly - a Wizard and new member of Les Amis -, and Professor Mabeuf, the wise new philosophy teacher, this year promises to be as exciting as the last!

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The Warlock Of The Flame

Rated T

Major Character Death

18/25 chapters; 122,516 words

Summary:

Cosette’s life is going great! With Lord Méchant defeated, her final year at Musain College for Faeries is going to be normal (for once); her relationship with Marius is going spectacularly (and it looks like there’s a proposal in the pipeline!); and there’s nothing to suggest that the Magical Dimension is in any danger. But then news of something horrible happening on Musichetta’s home planet reaches the ears of Les Amis - and according to Headmaster Myriel, there’s only one Warlock who could have caused it. As Cosette and her friends face off with the culprit, it becomes more and more apparent that his true nature and past are darker than any of them could have imagined...

Read on AO3

***

Total Drama

Dear Diary

Rated M

Major Character Death, Reference To Eating Disorders and Attempted/Implied Sexual Assault

9/? chapters; 27,617 words

Summary:

"Dear Diary - My teen angst bullshit now has a body count."

Heather Chandler. Gwen Duke. Lindsay McNamara. Courtney Sawyer. Together they make up the most powerful clique at Westerburg High. Most people would die to get into it.

Courtney would kill to get out of it.

Enter Duncan Dean. He has a way with women, a way with words, and a very special way with a gun.

"It's God versus my boyfriend, and God's losing..."

Read on AO3

Read on FF.net

A Little Fall Of Rain

Rated T

Major Character Death

1/1 chapter; 663 words

Summary:

In the midst of the July Uprising, Gwen Thénardier takes a bullet for long time friend Duncan Pontmercy, despite his love for Courtney and his obliviousness towards her feelings for him. Gwen as Éponine, Duncan as Marius. Based off the scene in the musical. I don't own TDI or Les Mis. Warning: Character Death.

Read on FF.net

Freak Out, Let It Go

Rated K+ (G for AO3 users)

1/1 chapter; 271 words

Summary:

Alternatively called ‘What Happens When I listen To Avril Lavigne For Three Hours Straight’. One-shot starring our favourite crazy redhead. Enjoy.

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Bubblegum Bitch

Rated T

1/1 chapter; 539 words

Summary:

Heather is shiny and perfect on the outside, but on the inside she's a backstabbing user - a mess.

Read on FF.net

I Wish

Rated T

Implied Character Death

1/1 chapter; 357 words

Summary:

When Courtney doesn't show up after TDWT's finale, Duncan does some serious thinking about the past.

Read on FF.net

***

Miraculous Ladybug

mArinette

Rated T

No Archive Warnings Apply

7/8 chapters

Summary:

Marinette tells a lie. A pretty big lie. And soon one lie turns into another, and before she knows it, she's going out of her way to keep the lie going.

When Lila lies, it's sloppy. But Marinette's lie is all too believable.

At least no one else is getting hurt by her lie.

But Marinette's about to find out how hard it is to be known as the school slut.

An Easy A AU.

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Series - A Miraculous Musical

Cute Boys With Short Haircuts

Rated G

No Archive Warnings Apply

1/1 chapter

Summary: 

Marinette sees Adrien and Kagami kissing and jumps to conclusions. Hurt and upset, she heads up to her balcony to do the one thing that cheers her up: singing a really angsty song.

Adrien had nothing to do with the kiss. He just wants to ask Marinette out. He passes her balcony as Chat Noir and hears the most beautiful singing voice... but the song is so sad. And then he sticks around just a little too long, and catches sight of something he shouldn't have...

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Act One: Whalesong

Rated T

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

2/? chapters

Summary:

Marinette's family receives tragic news, and suddenly her cousin becomes her roommate. With her only possessions being a small suitcase of clothes and a bizarre hair-clip, anyone connected to María Sugrue-Dupain begins to become infected with some sort of singing virus - in which they have no choice but to sing about their problems. Ms Bustier, ever resourceful, takes the opportunity to direct the class in a production of the musical 'Heathers', and there is drama on-stage and off it.

But why does the singing virus exist at all? Why is Gabriel Agreste suddenly so interested in Adrien's schoolmates? And seriously, is Nathalie OK? The Gorilla wants to know if he should call someone. Should he call someone?

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Series - Let Me Be Loved

More Adventurous

Rated G

No Archive Warnings Apply

1/1 chapter

Summary:

"And it's only doubts that we're counting On fingers broken long ago. I read with every broken heart We should become more adventurous..."

As Marinette sings at a Kitty Section concert, Adrien starts to notice her in a new light. Unfortunately, he's too late, even if he's not quite sure what he's too late for.

100% inspired by 'More Adventurous' by Rilo Kiley

Read on AO3

***

Equestria Girls

Dazzlings

Rated M

Contains Major Character Death, Reference To Eating Disorders and Attempted/Implied Sexual Assault

13/13 chapters

Summary:

"Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw! Nancy Drew is onto you, Sunset."

Sunset Shimmer wished she was popular, and she became popular -

And suddenly she wished she wasn’t popular.

When Sunset is faced with a fate seemingly worse than death, mysterious new kid Flash Sentry suggests she take matters into her own hands and use drain cleaner, Ich Lüge bullets, and adult ignorance to make the world a better place.

But is his vision of a world without bullies really worth the cost?

Read on AO3

Read on FF.net

***

Original Work

Our Relationship Was A Rainbow

Rated T

No Archive Warnings Apply

1/1 chapter

Summary:

An original piece following the course of a relationship that in spite of glowing all the colours of the rainbow, ended grey and cloudy.

Read on AO3

An Anthology Of Verse, written by a traumatised (yet certified) idiot

Rated G

No Archive Warnings Apply

2/? chapters

Summary:

I asked my followers on Tumblr if they'd be interested in reading some of my original poetry if I posted it here. Four likes and a comment saying "Yes please!!" is more than good enough for me. I hope you enjoy it!

(Note: A lot of this was initially written a few years ago - or even longer. Some of it has - naturally - been edited since my initial draft, but some of it may have a different style to my more recent writing.)

(Another Note: I will be posting new poems as they come to me, or I rediscover them. I will also update tags as I go.)

Read on Ao3

[ladybub]

Thanks for the 6,000 followers!!

As promised, I said I’d write a fic for the Overboard AU. 

Here’s the first chapter!

Overboard (2424 words) by Ladybub Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Chloé Bourgeois, Alya Césaire, Nino Lahiffe, Lila Rossi, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Nathalie Sancoeur

Additional Tags: Overboard AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Miraculous, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff, Fake Marriage, I have literally got nothing planned, i am winging this, most likely smut

Summary:

Overboard AU. Marinette Dupain-Cheng hasn’t had the best of luck in her life, not only has her husband Luka passed away tragically three years ago, she’s one failed test away from losing her scholarship, and also already lost her job at the cafe. With three children to take care of, she doesn’t have the time to dawdle and needs to find another job, or a miracle, stat! Meanwhile, on his own personal yacht, Adrien Agreste - the heir to the Gabriel fashion line - hasn’t a care in the world and women on his arms at all times. He’s living the life of a Bachelor with no problems whatsoever, other than the hangovers he gets the morning after. However both their luck changes after a chance meeting, and when the son of the rich designer has an accident which causes him to lose his memory…

Marinette was a bit down on her luck lately.

She had just lost her job at the café just across the road from her University. It was perfect and convenient but unfortunately it seems she dropped one too many cups of coffee, and the boss couldn't ignore it any more. She couldn't really hold it against them; they didn't end on bad terms, and whilst her boss was very apologetic about letting her go, they had no other choice.

Every now and again she found some commission work by making dresses, and helping out the bakery, but those jobs were so far and few in-between. She also couldn't impose on them by moving out of her apartment and back home, not with Hugo, Emma and Louis - her parent's home wasn't big enough for all of them. No, she'd have to simply find another job. Fast.

Another job that could work around her University schedule and give her time to drop off/pick up the kids from school.

God, this was going to be impossible.

Suddenly, Marinette was dragged out of her thoughts when her phone started ringing. She quickly fished it off the counter and balanced it on her ear, "Hey maman." Oh, please have good news...She thought. "What's up?"

"Hi honey," Her mother's voice came out, "We just got in a last minute catering order, and was wondering if you were free on tomorrow night to help out as one of our servers, and also to bring back the equipment the morning after. Of course, we'd be more than happy to have the kids over for the night."

Marinette felt a small relief, she'd take any little bit she could take. "Yes, that'd be great maman, thank you. You have no idea how much I needed it," She took a deep breath, "I might have... lost the job at the café."

"Oh, Marinette..." Sabine murmured sympathetically, "How are you going for rent? You know if you need to borrow any money-"

"No, no, no! It's fine! I have some money saved that will get us through the month and I'm sure I'll find a new job in no time!" Marinette lied, she didn't actually have any money saved up, but she couldn't let her mother know; she'd already borrowed hundreds off her parents already, she didn't want to ask for a cent more. She plastered a too-big grin on her face - and since her mother couldn't see her, it was mostly to convince herself.

Sabine sighed on the other side of the line, "Alright, but you let your father and I know if you need anything, and we'll be sure to call you when catering events come up."

"Thank you, maman."

"You're welcome anytime, of course, dear. Tell the kids goodnight for me."

"Will do, goodnight!"

"Goodnight, sweetie."

Marinette shuffled the phone down from her shoulder and onto the counter, continuing on the soup she was cooking. She dipped a spoon in and tasted, happy with the flavours. "Hugo, Emma, Louis! Dinner is ready!" She quickly prepped the table, moving around the mess that sat on top so that there was room for all four of the bowls.

The patter of children running into the dining room was broken only by the collective moans they made when they saw what was put onto the table. "Dumpling soup again?" The eldest boy, Hugo, cried out. "But we've had it for the last two nights!"

"And now, we'll have it again just one more night." Marinette said, and began serving the soup into the bowls. "I promise tomorrow we'll have something else but for now, Maman needs to study extra hard tonight since tomorrow she'll be serving for your Grandma and Grandpa, and you know what that means..." She reached over the kids to grab some of the textbooks that lay in the pile of other things she pushed aside on the table.

"Sleepover at Nan and Pop's!" Louis shouted excitedly, accidentally flinging a dumpling on the floor. Marinette quickly scooped it up and gave him one of the dumplings from her dinner, all without taking her eyes off her textbooks.

"Mhmmm, that's right." Marinette hummed, taking a sip of her soup and highlighting some areas that she felt she'd need to remember. She looked up and booped Emma on the nose, and then pointedly looked at all of them, "Now, promise you'll behave or I'll let Grandma know that you'd love dumpling soup again tomorrow."

"We promise!" They all shouted in unison, their mouths filled with food.

The morning after, on a bed of thousand thread sheets and down pillows, a blonde groaned and scratched his head, further mussing up the glistening hair but somehow, not ruining it at all. It was way too early, but slowly as the blinds on his windows automatically rolled up, it wasn't long before the sun was shining right in his face. He grumbled as he lifted his head, squinting as he glowered outside to the stunning skyline along the Seine river. What happened last night? Last he remembered was having a line of shots out on the back of his new yacht, a surprisingly generous birthday present from his father.

"Nathalie!" The blonde's husky voice called out, before clearing his throat and following with a much clearer and louder; "Nathalie! Please, I'm dying here."

Heels clicked on the polished wooden floor before stopping at the entranceway to the young man's room. "Yes, Adrien, I have already brought you some aspirin and water, it's right next to your bed." She sighed and looked away as Adrien shifted, the sheets no longer hiding his tan and muscular frame, as he reached for the glass.

"Thank you, Nathalie, but right now what I really need," he dropped the pill in the glass, waiting as it began to fizz before taking a large gulp, "is a Vodka Sunrise right now. Oh wait, no, make that two, could you get them for me?" He gave her a droopy toast with the glass with a smug smile on his face.

Nathalie took a deep breath, bringing out her phone and tapping on it a few times, "Today, your father wants you to get dressed by eleven, he has a few investors coming in to discuss some important last minute details for the Spring Gala in April, and you are to to join them for lunch which is scheduled at twelve."

Two more sets of heels came in behind Nathalie, showing two beautiful girls in their bikinis, only a sheer shawl covering their shoulders. They completely ignored Nathalie as they walked up to Adrien's bed.

"Adrikiiiins!" The blonde cooed at him, and wrapping her long tanned arms around his neck, "Come and join us in the jacuzzi, Felix found a lovely bottle of chardonnay that may or may not have come from his father's personal collection." She tugged on his arms as the brunette next to her was rubbing his shoulders sensually.

"On second thought, Nathalie, no need to bring me anything, I've found a couple tall drinks all on my own..." He purred, letting the girls pull him up from his bed. He picked up a pair of swim trunks with a golden Gabriel logo emblazoned right across the ass. "Come on, Chloe, Lila, we should go now before Nathalie can get the Gorilla to drag me to a boring meeting with my father. After all," he slipped on the trunks with feline gracefulness, "I think we'd have a lot more fun emptying that jacuzzi and filling it with jelly, what do you think?"

Nathalie furrowed her brow, "Adrien, your father won't be happy if you skip another meeting, he has high expecta-"

Adrien's face turned sour, "I know, he always has 'high expectations' of me as his son, just like I had 'high expectations' of him as a father. Maybe when my expectations are met, then we can negotiate. In the meantime..." He wrapped his arms around Chloe and Lila, who took no time in draping themselves on him. "Tell him that I'm indisposed, if you have to, but either way," He squeezed the girls and gave Nathalie a cheeky smile, "I've got important things to do."

"Adrien..." Nathalie reached out for Adrien but he brushed her off and kept walking.

"I told you, I have important things to do."

As the three waltzed past Nathalie, she couldn't help but feel for Adrien. She would have never predicted the sweet boy she knew years ago would turn out like this. It seems that as the years went on, the distance between Adrien and Gabriel only grew further and further. When Adrien couldn't win his father's love with being the perfect son - graduating top of his class in lycée, being the star of the most prestigious fencing academy, along with becoming the face of the Gabriel fashion - he turned into getting his father's attention another way. He started partying more and shirking his duties with the company, spending his father's money on expensive and materialistic things that he used to have no interest in before.

But she knew there was nothing she could do to help, not unless Gabriel pulled his head out of his work to see that he's losing the only family he has left.

So she quickly wrote up a text to Gabriel, letting him know the situation, before leaving the Agreste estate.

"Hey girl!"

Marinette looked up from her coffee, to see her best friend waving at her from down the sidewalk, "Hey, Alya!" They both reached out, hugging each other tightly, and then kissed each other's cheeks, "Thank you for coming out with me, on such late notice, to go resume dropping of all things!"

Alya smacked her arm lately, "I'll take what I can get, outside of work, it's impossible to get your nose out of those book and fabrics." They looped their arms together as they made their way towards the first café, restaurant or shop Marinette wanted to stop at. "How's University treating you this semester? I know a big test and assignment is coming up soon, are you getting enough time to study?"

Marinette sighed, the sound exhausted, "The only good thing coming from losing my job has been the extra time to practice and work on my final project piece. But I can't afford that extra time, I need to get a new job or we'll get evicted - Emma had the flu last week which meant I already took time off to take care of her, I don't have the rent for this month, and I can't ask my parents; they've already leant me so much and I can't take any more from them." She straightened her back, "If all else fails, I'll just," her voice cracked a little, "I'll quit the course, find any job I can get regardless of what it is and just, pick University back up when I can afford the time off."

Alya's heart panged when she saw the tears beginning to spring into her friend's eyes, "No, honey, if you get evicted you and the kids can move in with me and Nino for a little while, at least until you can get another job and afford your own place again." When she saw Marinette open her mouth to protest, she squeezed her arm and gave her a warning look, then went on, "You'll get through this, trust me. You're Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you'll pass your exams with flying colours and you'll be amazing."

Marinette smiled at Alya, "What did I do to deserve you?"

Alya gave her a wicked grin, "I didn't say it'd be free, I want a chocolate éclair every Monday, freshly made from your parent's bakery - I'll accept no other kind!"

"I'm sure I can manage that." They both giggled together, Marinette feeling warm with gratitude.

After the laughs subsided, Alya looked at Marinette with a glint to her eye, "So anyway, you would never guess who Nino ran into the other day." Alya began, "Nathaniel! You know, from Collège?"

"Yeah, I remember..." Marinette had a sneaking suspicion on where this was leading.

"They ended up having a couple drinks that night and caught up a little, Nino said that he was staying in Paris for the forseeable future, and also that apparently Nath asked about you!" Alya grinned excitedly, nudging Marinette a few times in the side.

"Alya! Not this again."

Alya simply ignored her, "We both know he had the cutest crush on you in school before he moved away, and Nino said he absolutely kicked puberty in the face like, whoa!" She whistled, "Nino originally was thinking he'd make a good third, but I told him that we should let you two have a date or two first before passing out any invitations." She gave a wink, "but just think, if he's just as sweet as he was in High School, he'd be a real catch."

Marinette flushed a little at the idea, she couldn't lie that she felt lonely. But she shook those feelings away. "You know I don't have time right now for dating," Marinette pointed out, and went on. "Besides, I doubt anyone would want to. No one wants a widow with three kids." She felt her entire body sink, she accepted her reality a long time ago. Luka, her late husband, was her entire world. She just felt like she would never be able to love someone like she loved him, and she didn't want to be introducing man after man into her kids lives, right now they needed stability.

"Shut up, don't you dare talk about my friend that way." Alya's voice was firm, but full of love, "I told you already, you're an amazing, talented, smart, capable woman and a beautiful, loving mother. Any guy would be lucky to be in your good graces." She added with a soft voice, "Luka would want you to be happy, and to be able to move on and find love again."

Marinette nodded, a weak smile on her lips, "How do you just," She shrugged her shoulders helplessly, "know exactly what it is I need to hear all the time?"

"Because I love you." Alya stated, stopping to give her friend a hug. She held onto Marinette's shoulders, "Now. Less dallying, more resume dropping." She pointed to a quaint cafe just on the corner of the road, "Let's get you a new job before the day is over, hm?"

"If only I was that lucky." Marinette laughed.

Notes:

Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter for my Overboard AU! I hope that it's not too boring, please please please let me know what you think? I haven't written a fic since I was 14 and that was a really cringey self-insert for Fruits Basket. (Don't ask, trust me.)

I have no clue how many chapters this is going to be, it could be 5, it could be 20, it'll probably be like, 3. I guess it depends on how much you guys like it, since I feel so nervous about posting.

[real-fakedoors]

under leaves so green - CHPT 7 - Miraculous Ladybug

After the Dupain-Cheng family purchases a flower shop around the block from the Agreste mansion, Chat Noir frequents the spot in search of company from the manager-but-not-really Marinette. Beneath the mask, Adrien starts to struggle with how cute she looks in that green apron. (AKA: the not-really flower shop AU where basically everything is the same, but Marinette is extra stressed by her job and Adrien tries to be supportive)

Cross-posted on AO3 and FF.net

Chapter 7:  绣球花 (Hydrangea)

In which Adrien and Marinette spend Mother's Day in very strange ways. 

Adrien had grown to enjoy the call of bells, almost always associating the pitchy jingle with happiness. One would ring at the front and back door of Marinette’s shop, come day or night. Another sounded lightly as he prowled the streets as Chat Noir, jostling ever so slightly just below his throat as he leapt from building to building.

And this morning, one greeted him upon entrance to the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

“Welcom - oh! Adrien, hello!” Madam Cheng beamed as he stepped inside, his senses overcome in the most fantastic sort of way.

It was warm within the buzzing bakery, but not hot and sticky like the summer air - this was a comfortable heat, one that reminded him of fuzzy blankets and hot chocolate. The smells were staggering in their own right, the aroma of cookies and fresh bread flowing around him like the sweetest tides of a cotton-candy sea. Adrien could drown in it and never want to come up for air; it was the same smell that always seeped from Marinette’s pores, only more poignant. A chattering pair of women eyed a display case near the window, so he strode past them and returned Madam Cheng’s smile with as much kindness as he could muster.

“Madam Cheng, so nice to see you. And Happy Mother’s Day, of course.” He bowed politely as he reached the register, standing just a bit aside in case anyone came up to make a purchase while he chatted. If it was possible, Madam Cheng smile only widened.

“This is Nathalie, my father’s assistant,” Adrien said through pursed lips, and the woman shook Madam Cheng’s hand.

Of course, Marinette’s mother seem just thrilled. “A pleasure, Nathalie -- and please, Adrien, Sabine is fine.” The tiny woman held up a finger to pause their pleasantries, leaning her head into the back. “Hey! Tom! Adrien is here!”

A pause.

“Be right there!” A familiar, jovial voice answered, and Adrien felt himself pink slightly. He tended to almost forget how overwhelmingly kind the Dupain-Chengs were until he was in their company, but then, their daughter was practically the dictionary definition of perfection. He shouldn’t be surprised.

“So, how can I help you this morning?” Sabine looked between the two, and Nathalie only responded with a strained smile. It took an impressive amount of self-control for Adrien not to laugh at the woman’s dismay,  clearly unsure of what to make of Madam Cheng’s bubbly attitude.

“Well…” Adrien fumbled with his fingers. “I actually came by to see if Marinette was available. I wanted to talk to her, but my phone is, uh,” his gaze flickered over the tight-lipped woman beside him. “Unavailable at the moment.”

Sabine frowned. “Oh, I’m so sorry, but Marinette’s not home. She left early this morning on an errand.”

Adrien had only enough time for his eye to twitch before a small bear emerged from the back in the shape of Marinette’s father.

“Adrien! How are you, son?” Tom Dupain walked right around the counter and hugged Adrien fiercely, crushing his bones and giving his torso a light dusting of flour in the process. Nathalie looked like a fish out of water, both literally and figuratively, and appeared about ready to pry the man away from him.

The blond was all smiles, though, and gave Marinette’s father a firm pat-pat. “Hello, Monsieur Dupain, how are you?”

“Just great - business is, ah, hold on. Come!” He extended an arm and gestured for Nathalie and Adrien to follow him into the back of the bakery. Sabine nodded at them, but kept her focus on the customers who had just approached the counter with sweet selections in mind.

“Sorry, sorry. Just easier to talk without people buying - so good to see you! And who’s this?” Tom smiled kindly down at Nathalie, who cleared her throat.

“Nathalie Sancoeur, thank you. I work for Gabriel Agreste and am escorting Adrien this morning.”

He blinked, likely taken aback by her biting tone, but there was no dampening the man’s mood.

“Well, welcome to the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie Patisserie! Don’t mind our mess; when you work with flour and dirt, it’s something you learn to live with.”

“I… see. Thank you.” Nathalie eyed their surroundings, quickly understanding the man’s meaning. The place was indeed a mess, all sorts of ingredients strewn around the work stations, a half-dozen aprons hanging on hooks, and piles and piles of open books littered with numbers and figures.

Monsieur Dupain set himself to task while making pleasant conversation, and Adrien thought his behavior seemed very much like Marinette at that moment. “So, did I hear you say you were here for Marinette?”

Sheepishly, Adrien scratched his cheek. “I - yes. But Madam Cheng said she’s not home?”

The man nodded severely, rolling out a mysterious dough that smelled like heaven. “Yes, it feels like our girl’s never home anymore. Did you want to leave a message of some sort? We can always give it to her when she comes back after work.”

Before he could answer, Marinette’s mother appeared beside Nathalie, and the leaner of the two women flinched.

Adrien had to snicker quietly at that. It was upon Nathalie’s own insistence that he was not to enter the bakery unattended, so he was going to enjoy watching her squirm, at least a little.

“Yes, and I’m afraid she didn’t say where she was going, probably just had to facilitate some deliveries or something,” Sabine sighed and wiped her hands on her apron, which caught his attention.

“Oh, your apron! It’s lovely.” He pointed, elated by his recognition.

She looked down momentarily and the smile that spread on her features reached her eyes.

“Oh, yes, speaking of Marinette,” she sighed contently and rubbed the embroidered D/C proudly. “This was a gift she made me for Mother’s Day. I didn’t expect her to get me anything; I don’t even know how she found the time.”

Adrien did not respond, but he nodded his agreement. Marinette had been deadbeat exhausted yesterday, but he wasn’t about to say that to her parents or Nathalie.

Oh, yes Madam Cheng, I know. I snuck into your daughter’s room last night while she finished making that apron. There was about a million reasons why that was a bad idea, and at least half of those reasons would have made him blush to think about.

Adrien coughed. “Well, I am sorry I missed her… Maybe I will just try again tomorrow, or swing by the shop later.” He didn’t even need to look her way to feel the look Nathalie was giving him. Such a detour was not in his schedule and therefore was not going to be allowed, but Adrien didn’t want to appear suspicious to Marinette’s parents.

“Well, that sounds like a wasted trip son, at least take some pastries back to your Dad.” Monsieur Dupain replied, wiping his cheek carefully with part of his forearm. The dough was taking taking the form of a swirled knot-bread, and Adrien could smell the vanilla and cinnamon from where he was standing. His stomach growled, and by some good graces, not loud enough for anyone to hear.

“Ahh, no, that’s okay,” Adrien rubbed his neck. “My Dad’s not really a… ‘sweets’ kind of guy. But thank you for offering.”

Of course, Madam Cheng wouldn’t hear of it.

“Hmm, well, how about at least something for your troubles? Nathalie, that includes you of course, pick out anything from the display and we’ll package it up for you.”

Adrien blushed, always overcome by their generosity. They hadn’t much, at least compared to his father’s wealth, but that never meant they weren’t eager to share.

“I- I, well,” Nathalie sputtered, uselessly pushing random buttons on her tablet. Clearly she was not used to being treated this way either, and Adrien remembered how flustered he had been the first few times he had come here.

“That would be amazing, thank you,” he accepted for the both of them, and Sabine lead them back out the front. Adrien didn’t want to disrupt Marinette’s father a second time in the middle of working, so he went to give him a friendly pat on the back in farewell. Once again, more bear than man, Monsieur Dupain turned and engulfed Adrien in a hug so tightly he felt short of breath by the time his feet were back to solid ground.

“Take good care Adrien, and thanks for stopping. I’m sure Mari will be sorry she missed you.”

Tom Dupain finished his statement with a not-so-subtle wink. Adrien swallowed a lump in his throat and tried not to burn too furiously while returning to the front of the bakery.

Sabine greeted a new gaggle of customers that entered just as the three of them returned to the front of the store, so Adrien gestured for Nathalie to follow him to the glass display of cakes and breads and cookies.

Once out of earshot, Nathalie shot him a sharp whisper.

“These foods will not comply with your meal schedule, so please say your goodbyes and we’ll go.”

At that, Adrien snorted and had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. He actually felt a little bad as Nathalie flushed, evidently disquieted by his behavior. She saw this place as one of indulgence - sugar and happiness, free food and plentiful hugs.

How ironic.

Wealth meant Adrien had seen display cases just like these many times, usually filled with pillows of rich velvet that were topped with excess. Diamond jewelry or watches that could fund a year abroad were the “bread and butter” of the upper-class, so expensive taste came with the territory.

Adrien felt the bread and butter prepared by the Dupain-Cheng’s hand to be much more tempting.

Everything was a careful arrangement of love here, and it filled him with a million reminders of Marinette at every turn. Each price tag was hand-written, with chalkboard specials on display. All of the boxes were pink and simple, somehow adorable and refined at the same time. The energy itself was animated, a welcome world, and it required no explanation to surmise that Marinette was a product of this saccharine wonderland.

By comparison, Adrien had felt only lucky enough to window shop before. He didn’t want to browse anymore.

Marinette may have been reared within these candied walls, but Adrien found it hollow without her in them. He longed for laurels of green and Banks’ roses. The absence of dirt felt like the absence of her, resolute and empowering without ever being too much. To him, the bakery had become an echo of her, whereas the shop was filled with Marinette from the dirt to the air to the sun itself. A pastoral daydream, between the green apron and the green house, the shop was the metropolitan wilderness.

A paradox.

It shouldn’t exist in a city like this, and it was too pure for this world.

Yet somehow, he had found her.

Nathalie interrupted his daydreams by clicking her tongue.

“We cannot accept their food without paying. If word gets out, the press might take it to the rumor mill.”

His response was probably more bitter than it had to be, not because of her words but because of the sneer behind them.

“You are worrying too much,” he studied some cocoa truffles absently. “I’ve tried to pay them for years, but they always refuse. Marinette even snuck money back into my wallet once; their obstinacy is borderline unfair.”

Nathalie pursed her lips. “This… Marinette that you came to see. She’s been through your wallet?”

Sometimes he forgot how protective Nathalie and his father were, to a painful degree. Still, the insinuation that came with Nathalie’s worry he found to be in poor taste.

He kept his tone matter-of-fact. “Yes. I’d trust her with anything, my wallet included.”

The dark-haired woman narrowed her eyes and looked ready to say something else, but Sabine completed her recent customers and appeared across the glass case.

“Have you settled on anything? I already grabbed some of that cheese bread you always ask for, Adrien, but please, pick out at least a few more things.” Marinette’s mother jostled a bag lightly over the counter, and Adrien thanked her. In his shirt pocket, a very exciting twitching began at the call of cheese.

After some back and forth, Adrien made up Nathalie’s mind and kindly accepted two pieces of cheese bread, a sweet smelling strawberry tart for himself and a few macron’s for his father’s assistant. It took more effort than it should have to accept, what with Nathalie’s constant disapproval, but he had gone through the motions with the Dupain-Cheng’s enough time to know they were impossible to argue with.

By the time he said farewell, two hugs later and a whole heart fuller, Adrien settled into the backseat of the car and sighed comfortably. He almost could have forgotten he had come to see Marinette and utterly failed to do so. Almost.

Nathalie directed them home, dubiously accepting a macron when offered, and Adrien even tried to see if his ever-silent bodyguard would accept one. There was no verbal response, but the man did hold out his hand when Adrien reached towards the front of the sedan.

“So, is Marinette someone we should…?” Nathalie began as they were neared the mansion, and Adrien cleared his throat.

“Nope, that’s -- nope.”

The woman sighed pointedly, but did not ask any further questions. They both knew better than to  bother his father with petty matters like high school crushes, so Adrien at least could confidently say Nathalie would not to bring up the subject again.

He bound up the stairs once they arrived home, shutting the door to his room behind him. A greedy-eyed kwami greeted him swiftly.

“Pay up, kid, I wants me some of that bread.” Plagg almost cackled as Adrien unfurreled the bag and set it at his desk, listening to the strange gorging sounds of a kwami bodily assaulting unsuspecting pastries.

Adrien was already pacing, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“What a waste of a morning.” He stopped at the window, pressing an arm against the cool metal beams and resting his forehead there. “I don’t think I can wait until tonight to see her, and not as Chat Noir. I need to see her as me this time.”

“You know,” Plagg called from the bag, clearly speaking with his mouth full.

“You sure are going way out of your way to see this girl. You’re sure you just want to be friends?”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Just, shut up, Plagg.”

“If your poor heart can’t wait, we could sneak out again. You know, stop by the flower shop, go and see your lovely lady,” the kwami mused in a sing-song voice.

Adrien didn’t answer. It’s not like he could deny it anymore.

From the night she gifted him the Russian Snowdrops petals, he probably should have realized it then. The comfortable way she deposited the sentiment, more than just the flowers, into his hand and the sincerity of her soft blue eyes within their private twilight was something from a movie.

That night had been a wickering candle that had burned just bright enough and just long enough for him to fall smitten.

If not then, Nino’s not-so-subtle talk should have forced him to acceptance. His friend had called him out like a judge during a fencing match, making Adrien confront some imaginary coin flip that he didn’t believe could be real.

But how far back did his denial go? The shy glances, sweet blushes, thoughtful gestures and innocuous little fleeting moments they had shared through the years. He couldn’t tell if his stomach had always twisted in excitement when it happened and he had just tried to bury the instinct, not wanting to freak her out, to the point where he himself believed it wasn’t there. Adrien tried to remember, but then, none of that mattered anymore.

What mattered now was that Adrien was absolutely, hopelessly in love with her.

Of course he was.

Marinette’s smile was everything. When she laughed, he felt like the most fortunate person in the world to hear the sound - and that’s not even to say how he felt when he was the one to make her erupt into giggles. Sometimes, if surprised, she would squeak, and it was adorable. She was beautiful - lean, strong, soft features and lips that looked so kissable he wanted to tear his hair out just thinking about it. If he hadn’t come to her home with the mask last night, he might not have been able to stop himself from kissing more than just her forehead.

His legs guided him to his bed, laying down and staring at the ceiling. Marinette was everywhere in his world, and so suddenly, too. It was like the most pleasant vertigo imaginable. The dark ceilings looked like her hair, soft and rich tresses of ebony. The sinking sound of his head hitting the pillow was her sigh, and the rustling of Plagg at his desk was the fluttering of her lashes. Most devastating was the sky, though, miles of her eyes for him to get lost in.

Marinette was everywhere, but even so, she wasn’t here.

Plagg belched and flew over to him, looking upon his charge with a smug grin.

“You’ve got it bad, you know that, don’t you?”

Adrien didn’t respond, but his face surely said enough. Plagg nodded.

“Well, if it means anything, I -- ”

The kwami stopped and his brow dipped, catching Adrien’s attention. A moment later, there was a crisp knocking on the door, and they met eyes before Plagg flew away to hide.

“Yes,” Adrien groaned as he sat back up, walking towards the door. “What is it, Natha-- ?”

“Adrien.” His father greeted with a nod, and the blond went slack jawed.

“D-Dad, hi, what are you…?” Adrien cleared his throat and paused when his father motioned for him to stop, raising a hand.

“Why don’t you come to my office for a moment?” He asked, though he spun on his heel before Adrien could answer. Stumbling after him, he hoped Plagg had enough sense to stay put, just in case, and followed his father down the stairs.

Each step felt like a march towards some sort of purgatory. Had he done something wrong? He couldn’t remember the last time his father called him to his office and they had a pleasant conversation. All they seemed to talk about anymore was Adrien’s future, and they both had very different visions in mind for what that looked like.

Adrien kept his irritations under lock-and-key. He was resigned to wait for his father’s invitation to speak.

It wasn’t until he shut the door that the conversation began, and Adrien wondered which one of them had lost their minds. It had to be one of them, because his Dad didn’t just say that, or he himself was dissociating and misheard him.

“Are you in a relationship with Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

It was the proverbial record scratch of the past week. Flowers and blue eyes, slamming doors and text messages, late night stargazing and bitter coffee all rushed to greet him in a visceral sensory experience. A whole week’s worth of memories pumped through his veins, sending his heart into a tailspin of nerves and worries and fears but, more than all of that, Adrien was blindsided by so much sudden happiness that it a miracle he managed to stay on his own two feet.

He didn’t really have words, so he managed a croak.

“Huh?”

His father pursed his lips, hands behind his back as he gestured for Adrien to sit in the pit around the runway. Apparently, he managed to comply with his Dad’s request, though he had no memory of even sitting down.

   A few hours earlier

 “I can do this.” Marinette fanned her face with a hand, as if it would help. It wasn’t particularly hot today, in fact, it was cloudy and pleasantly mild for a morning in the summer, but that wasn’t the cause of her clammy complexion.

No, this was the kind of crippling nervousness that would knock anyone off their feet in her situation, and Marinette wasn’t exactly known for her superior coordination.

“I can... do this.”

Spilling your guts out to your crush of three years was never easy.

Doing it on Mother’s Day seemed like an awful mistake, given his mother’s mysterious disappearance.

Coming to his house unannounced, early in the morning, with pastries and a tiny potted plant?

“I can’t do this.”

Every neuron in her brain was firing off at once, screaming at her legs run away, but she was trying not to listen. Her heart was hammering, working overdrive to make up for the disagreement between her body and mind, and she was stuck.

Hiding.

Tikki jostled her purse, knocking into her hip slightly - it was a sort of silent code they had established, for Marinette to check their surroundings for curious eyes before opening the clasp.

With fumbling fingers, she managed to get the thing damned open and her kwami’s large round eyes were sympathetic.

“Don’t say that, Marinette! You can do it - you can do anything. I believe in you.”

“I-I know, Tikki,” she stammered, and the kwami’s red face frowned. “I just, heh, you know, we said ‘set small goals’? That was the agreement… I feel like… this is a little much…?”

“No,” her kwami shook her head. “It’ll be perfect, I promise. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do!” Marinette’s response was immediate, and she felt her pulse relax just slightly. “I just… no, no, you’re right. I can do this.”

“You can do this,” Tikki parroted and nodded, closing the purse herself so Marinette couldn’t talk herself down.

“Thanks, Tikki,” the girl whispered before brushing herself off unnecessarily.

With a pit - no, a crater - in her stomach, Marinette slipped around the corner and stiffly walked up to the front gate. She spotted a familiar, almost angry-looking red button on an inlaid control panel, and gulped.

The first time she rang the Agreste doorbell, when Nino had been akumatized years ago, a little camera came out and appraised her. Just in case, Marinette fixed her bangs and patted out her pigtails, hoping her make-up covered most of the bags circling her eyes. Her choice of outfit was… acceptable. It was just her work uniform. The whole pretense of coming before work on a Sunday was so she had a designated time to leave in case things became awkward, and Marientte wanted to have an escape plan; she preferred to plan for the worst-case scenario, so anything better than that exceeded her expectations.

Long inhale.

Marinette pushed the button, feeling the weight of the world compress the shiny plastic covering against her forefinger.

No going back now.

Long exhale.

She stood for almost a minute, fidgeting more and more and thought about pressing again (or, better yet, about just running the other direction) when a voice finally answered, accompanied by a camera’s judgmental eye.

“Yes?”

It was male, but it wasn’t Adrien.

Oh for fondants sake…

Her mouth was horribly dry and she licked her lips - surely, that had to have looked great on camera.

“M-Monsieur Agreste! I apologize, I’m… um… a friend of Adrien’s. I was wondering if he was… home?”

There was a long silence, and once again, Marinette considered fleeing the scene.

A hard voice swept away whatever nerve she had gathered. “What’s your name?”

“I-I… I-I’m Ma-Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. A-Adrien’s, um, he’s in my class.” She swallowed, and Tikki jostled lightly against her hip. The reminder of her kwami gave her some confidence, however small, so she added, “I designed… a hat for your contest a few… years ago?”

Marinette tightened her grip on the reusable paper bag she had in her right hand in an effort to stop her nervous shaking, and, to her genuine surprise, it actually helped.

“Hmm,” Monseiur Agreste sounded thoughtful, and Marinette tried to smile at the camera as kindly-and-not-dorkily as possible.

“You may enter.”

The electric blue eye of the camera retracted back into the wall, and there was a brief buzzing as the lock on the gate fell. She could hear Tikki lightly chime at her hip.

“You’re doing great, Marinette! Just keep it up!”

“Phew,” she breathed a sigh of relief and nodded, even if Tikki couldn’t see it. “Thanks. Wish me luck.”

Her usual stride was definitely clipped of it’s usual personality, much more rigid as the door loomed ever closer. She had only been here a few times, and this was the first time she’s ever come totally alone - the entrance seemed so massive up close.

A tiny voice dubbed Rationality in her mind noted that it was probably unusual for Gabriel Agreste to answer his own doorbell, but then, that tittering was snuffed out rather quickly by the hundred of others voices - Worry, Anxiety, Fear, and Uneasy, for example, were composing an epic interlude against the raging metronome provided by her heart.

Marinette, as conductor for this impromptu orchestra, only found it fitting that the crescendo built with the stacco thump of her knocking fist against the heavy barrier that kept her out.

Much faster than she expected, the door was opening, and stood before her was the ever-immaculate Gabriel Agreste. Sometimes, she was so wrapped up in Adrien that Marinette all but forgot her idolization of the man before her.

He was a fashion legend, and even his home attire showed for it - his hair was swiped back, out of his face. On his person, he wore a crisp white suit jacket with red pants that were tailored to perfection, accented by a red-white ascot.

Marinette bowed, feeling humbled and tragically underdressed.

Staring at her feet instead of at his piercing eyes, she found enough of her manners scattered on the immaculate foyer tiles to muster a greeting.

“Monsieur Agreste, it’s an honor to meet you in person. I’m… Adrien’s friend, but it’s also such an honor. I’m a huge fan of your work!”

She would never bet anything on it, but she could have sworn it almost sounded like, ever so lightly that he… laughed?

“Come in, Mme. Dupain-Cheng,” he stepped aside and Marinette meekly scuttered in, feeling more a mouse in a giant labyrinthine of architectural splendor.

Naturally, she drank in as much as she could as fast as she could - huge ceilings, a refreshing clean smell, marble pillars and a central staircase like one she pictured in Cinderella. It was spacious and monochromatic, and Marinette could only admire the careful attention to the building with each slope or facade.

“I’m ashamed to admit I only vaguely recall our first meeting, Mme. Dupain-Cheng.” Monsieur Agreste began, hands behind his back. His posture was impeccable, and Marinette quickly tried to fix her slouch.

“But I do remember the bowler you created; it was a rather impressive piece, especially for someone your age. So forgive me if I’m a bit... unsure to the nature of your visit.”

Marinette bit her lip - she knew from Adrien’s occasional mention that his father was harsh, but she could certainly tell where her friend got his lessons in etiquette. So far, Adrien’s father had been entirely intimidating, but surprisingly kind.

He frowned and cocked his head to one side when Marinette didn’t respond, and she nearly squeaked when she realized she was just staring into space.

“O-Oh! Right. I’m very sorry to show up unannounced, and on… a holiday, no less.” She paused to make sure she hadn’t just put her foot in her mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind the mention of today’s date. His wife was gone, but it had been several years so perhaps he had just learned to accept such affairs. “But I… I wanted to see Adrien and thank him for his help the other day. Your son is, um, a very… kind young man.”

Studying her shoes, Marinette quickly found his lack of response to be unbearable, so her gaze flickered his way. Mounseir Agreste had a small, albeit nonplussed, smile on his face, and it looked remarkably similar to Adrien’s.

Maybe she could do this after all.

Feeling a bit emboldened by his agreeable expression, Marinette held the bag out infront of her with the D/C logo printed proudly on the front.

“My parents own the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie Patisserie - it used to just be called Tom and Sabine’s - by the school, and they recently purchased a flower shop only a few streets over from here. I work there and… I brought some pastries and flowers for Adrien as thanks. I... hope that’s okay?”

Mounseir Agreste studied the bag with a severe expression on his face before bringing a hand to his chin.

“Mme. Dupain-Cheng,” his eyes flickered to her face, and Marinette felt herself blanch slightly. His voice was like a whip, and each word was the crack before the lashing.

“While your gesture is very kind, Adrien is not here at the moment.”

She deflated. Bag lowered back to her side, Marinette felt all of the reassurance she had spent the past several days gathering be swept away with a single sentence. This had been hard enough to do the first time, and now she was doubtful she could ever find the courage to come back here like this.

Still, she couldn’t just stand and sulk in the middle of the Agreste mansion, so she cleared her throat and turned politely towards the door.

“I’m very sorry for intr-- ”

“But he should be back soon,” Adrien’s father interrupted lightly, and her head shot up in his direction. Was he really saying what she thought he was saying…?

Flatly, he confirmed her disbelief with a few easy words.

“If you’d like, you are welcome to stay here until he returns.”

Marinette felt her mouth fall open, and she blinked repeatedly. “A-are you sure? I’d hate to impose!”

He shrugged, and Marinette couldn’t believe how impressively casual he was acting. Surely this couldn’t be the monster Adrien painted him to be?

“I assure you Mme. Dupain-Cheng, it is fine. But Adrien is out with my assistant Nathalie, so would you be willing to wait for their return in my office? I mean no offense, but we prefer company to stay supervised in the house.”

She was practically bouncing now, almost too elated to mind her manners. “Are you kidding? Me, in the Gabriel Agreste office? Where you create your designs?! I would - I can’t -- ummmm,” she exhaled low and tried to calm herself, and to her relief, Mounseir Agreste didn’t seem to mind her fangirling. “I would be so honored, sir!”

“Very well,” he gestured for her to follow, and Marinette tried not to trip over her own feet as Adrien’s father stopped at the western wall before a set of massive double-doors. “We can leave the door open, so we’ll hear them come in.”

As Marinette passed the threshold, she could barely keep the bag in her hand, marveling each and every surface of the room with adoration. She had been in here before as Ladybug, but never had there been a chance for her to really stop and appreciate the room for what it was.

The walls were smoky marble, scored in a diamond lattice of light grey that stopped a few feet up from the ground, framed by wood so dark it was almost black. Each panel was carved with intricate molding, giving a sort of three-dimensional depth to the walls. The room itself was divided into three levels with short steps between each. Adrien’s father walked straight towards the top level on the far-end of the room where a large white screen - his famed ‘designscape’ - was situated, just in front of a grand golden portrait. Between the computer and the door, Marinette noticed a short sort of pit in the center of the room that opened to a lower level that mimicked a runway, but, she guessed, could also double as a conference table depending on the circumstances. Spread across the crisp white surface was a dozen portfolios and even more loose pictures, covering the desk from end to end with hundreds or even thousands of drawings and pictures of designs. The far end of the room was pierced by two larger-than-life panes of glass, windows to the world beyond, and they shone brilliantly with the emerging light of a Sunday morning.

On the wall to her immediate right upon entering, Marinette spotted Adrien. And Adrien. And more Adrien. This had been the image to capture her attention most prominently the last time she came here, naturally, and it was an ever expanding collection of his portraits done for his father’s fashion line. Everything about him, the poses, his smile, his presence - all of it, he was effortless.

Mounseir Agreste, apparently, noticed her staring. From behind his pseudo-computer, he commented off-handedly, “He does excellent work, doesn’t he?”

Marinette felt her heart leap into her throat, and she could barely breathe for how quickly the blood rushed to her cheeks.

“U-um, yes, sir. He’s very… ahh... talented?” Her hormone-addled teenage brain could come up with plenty more colorful descriptors for what else Adrien was, but perhaps his father was not the best audience for that. Instead, Marinette just laughed awkwardly, and Mounseir Agreste looked at her from above his glasses before smirking.

“You can set your things down on the tableau, if you’d like. Just push aside any of the mess,” he gestured towards the runway-esque-table in the center of the room, and Marinette shyly nodded and accepted the invitation.

Her mind was racing a million miles a minute, of course. Was this a stupid thing to do? What could she possibly talk to Adrien’s dad about? How long would they be - what if she had to get to work before Adrien even came home? And if not, would she even have sufficient time to talk to him? Why did she stop stalking Adrien’s calendar, if she knew where he was then this never would have happened!

Because, her brain scolded, tracking his whereabouts was creepy and you know it.

Yes, but, her squirming stomach argued, she had never been trapped in the Gabriel Agreste’s office when we had Adrien’s schedule memorized, now did we?

Both of you - Marinette’s jack-hammer heart interrupted - whatever figment of my imagination is giving you unique voices, please, cut it out! This is hard enough when I’m not arguing with myself!

Unsure what else to do, her eyes eventually started to linger across the countless designs sprawled across the length of the runway. The action started as a distraction, but Marinette’s attention was swept away in the painstaking detail that went into each image. From bodice to bustier, tulle and organza, slacks and skirts and accessories of every kind, the Gabriel span of influence know no bounds. She was particularly interested in a volume of unfinished work, most pages only half-colored but otherwise lined with pencil sketches suited to the shapes of men and women of every size and proportion.

“M-Mounseir Agreste?” Marinette spoke meekly, and his attention flickered up from the screen. “I hope you d-don’t mind me saying, but these are all so lovely.” She gestured a shaky hand across the runway.

“I-I promised myself if I ever got the chance, I would tell you the Adalaid handbag from Milan Fashion Week… was - is the most amazing use of suede I’ve ever seen… the attention to detail is something to be… sorry, I’m rambling,” Marinette pushed a hand against her forehead and ducked her head again, hoping he might just let her self-esteem die a quiet death.

“Milan is always a favorite of mine,” he responded, almost sounding bemused. Marinette glanced up to see him come to end of the runway, looking down over the cascade of his own creations through his decades in the industry.

“Ah,” his attention lingered over the thick portfolio right in front of her. “I see you’ve found Emilie’s work.”

“Emilie…?” Marinette responded, but she need not clarification when the man turned around and beheld the abstract, flawless painting of his wife hung behind his work station. She lowered her eyes on the book, and suddenly the unrefined but peculiar drawings seemed to make sense.

“Oh… these were, um, your wife’s…” She mumbled, trying to put distance between herself and the bound collection of sketches, feeling like there was some invisible line in social etiquette and that she had most definitely crossed.

“Yes,” he responded curtly, but sighed and descended to the pit. “She wore many hats, and her own creativity is something I still… I never sketch without the book you’ve got there.” His voice sounded wistful, and Marinette was surprised to hear him speak so openly about his wife. Adrien very rarely even mentioned Madam Agreste.

“It’s one of the handful of things she... left behind.”

Marinette didn’t dare ask for clarification on what else she might have “left behind,” but she didn’t really have to. There were some that required no explanation, like her husband and her son.

“You do have an eye for fashion, Mme. Dupain-Cheng,” Mounseir Agreste said as he looked over her shoulder, noticing the sketches she pulled towards the front in her absent minded admiration. “I always did like this one, but the color always felt wrong. I could never get it as I wanted.”

He pointed at a brown-leather ensemble, fitted like a trench-coat but seemed to Marinette a dress, the bodice dipping to a sweetheart neck with dropped-shoulders. A wide buckle pulled the eyes to the waist while accentuating the curvature of the hips. Interestingly, there was a peek-a-boo line of fabric that poked out from the bottom of the dress, where the leather crossed over itself like a coat; vertical stripes of white and brown just hinted at something more. To the side of the page, a razor sharp stiletto heel of the same color crisscrossed over a more detailed side-sketch of a foot, with smaller straps that resembled the center buckle as it clasped around the ankle. Were it food, Marinette would have been drooling; but as a designer, she could only feel her creative intuition flare at the sight.

“Wow,” she breathed, and without thinking, added “You said it was the color? You mean the tone of the leather?”

He frowned. “Yes, it was supposed to be… young and bold. Spirited, even. But it always seems… matronly, when worn.”

Marinette had to swallow the urge to make suggestions - who was she kidding? She was a no-name designer speaking to the Gabriel Agreste. No way would she even think of proposing modifications to one of his designs. It’s not like the leather might not be better suited as the patent variety, broadening the possibilities of color. Something like red would certainly pop with spirit, but this… that wasn’t her place.

“I never considered patent leather,” mused Monsieur Agreste, and picked up the paper with one hand and rubbed his chin with the other.

Marinette’s eyes widened in mortification.

Did I seriously just… say that… out loud?

“Oh - oh my, I’m so sorry Mounsier Agreste! I just blabbed and I know that was totally inappropriate, my sincerest apologies - sir, um,” Marinette stood and stepped away, bowing her head again, but this time in shame. Her face was burning and her eyes were nearly watering from the embarrassment.

Looking at the floor, Marinette couldn’t see the amused, if not a little bewildered, raise of Monsieur Agreste’s brows.

“You should never regret speaking on an original idea, Mme. Dupain-Cheng. They are scarce enough as it is. And a good idea? All the better.”

All she could do was blink inanely, sure she must have heard incorrectly.

“Some people make their literal livelihood as purveyors of honesty, you know,” he said, taking the picture with him to his designscape. Marinette slowly returned to the long table, not sitting but listening with interest.

“What is a critic but someone who is paid for their opinions? Or the curator of a museum? They seek out the best pieces of art on some sort of objective scale and create a gallery from their opinions alone. A discerning eye is a rare gift, Mme., you might not be so quick to silence yours.”

“I… wow,” she eventually answered, nodding as she sort of collapsed onto the row seating again. “Thank you, that… that really means a lot, coming from you.”

Marinette watched Adrien’s father’s with rapt attention, his own gaze flickering between the wide touchscreen and the picture in his hand. He hardly paid her any mind for several minutes, and for that, Marinette was thankful; her face right now was probably the picture of dumbfounded admiration.

“So,” Mounsier Agreste offered after a few minutes of silence. “What exactly is the nature of your relationship with my son, Mme. Dupain-Cheng?”

His voice had regained that pointed, almost dangerous quality to it, and Marinette flinched slightly. Thankfully, the man’s attention was caught in his work, so he didn’t notice see the very obvious embarrassment color her cheeks a deep crimson.

“Ah…” Marinette scratched her cheek.

“We are… just friends.” She sighed, unable to keep the regret from her tone. “His best friend Nino, you might know?” Marinette paused, but he so much as look up. With a dry gulp, she continued. “W-well, Adrien’s best friend Nino is in a… he’s dating my best friend, Alya. So… the four of us, um, hang out together. Socially. And at school, too - Adrien’s been… been, uhh, in my class since he started school with us. So…” She sort of just let her explanation taper out, not really sure where she was going with that.

They continued to sit quietly for a time after that, save for Marinette’s heart pounding in her ears and the occasional tap-tap against the designscape. She was torn between excusing herself, trying to think of anything that might not sound stupid to say to him, or continuing to suffer in the near-silence.

Mercifully, he cleared his throat and looked up from his work before she could act on any of her escape plans.

“My apologies, I wanted to incorporate this while it was still on my mind.” With a few keystrokes against the side of the machine, a projecting eye - much like the one she had been interrogated with at the front gate - popped out of the ceiling and a dazzling splash of blue light spilled onto the wall across from Adrien’s portraits. A narrow, blank canvas hung on the wall there - Marinette hadn’t really given it a second thought upon entering - but now it’s utility made perfect sense.

A life-sized drawing of the leather outfit, now accommodating Marinette’s suggestion for red patent, appeared and occupied the space perfectly. The empty canvas was almost poetic as Marinette stared, wide-eyed, at the creation come to life before her. With her suggestion, so too did the outfit itself come to life; the shine of the red seemed more animated than the maturity of browns and whites. Along the bottom lining, Monsieur Agreste had also recolored the peek-a-boo fabric to follow a nautical schema - vertical stripes of blue, white and red seemed to wink out from the folds of the dress, and it definitely looked youthful. Sexy, even, Marinette dared to admit.

“Wow…” She breathed, amazed by how quickly and masterfully her idea materialized by his hand.

“Indeed,” he said, agreeing with the sentiment of Marinette’s exclamation. The girl realized she was gaping, mouth-open, so she firmly closed her lips and tried to her fix her face into something appreciative but not too starstruck.

With all the practice I’ve had with Adrien, I’m pretty sure I’ve got that one down.

A contented sigh escaped Adrien’s father, and with a quick hand, he turned off the projection and the canvas returned to its former off-white, all creativity sterilized by the flip of a switch. Marinette’s eyes could still see the echo of an image, splotchy as her focus blinked back into reality.

“Now, where were we?” Monsieur Agreste came down from the top-level and stood with his back to her, which Marinette found less intimidating, They both faced a wall of Adrien.

“You said you’re a friend of Adrien’s from school - and, oh, that’s right. A gift in thanks? And what did he do that would be so deserving of such a kindness from you?” He turned his head slightly and smiled, laughing just one breath of a laugh, but Marinette felt the tension in her stomach unknot slightly.

She considered how best to respond this time, not wanting to ramble or putter through her sentences like she had been. Honesty felt right, and Adrien was someone with his whole day planned out, so it’s not like she might be sharing anything he wouldn’t already know. Maybe it had been a stroke of good luck with their designer-to-designer moment, but she felt like maybe he respected her… just a tiny bit?

“Well… we crossed paths recently since I work so near to your home… I fell at work a few days ago and messed up my shoulder, and Adrien stayed to help me sort out my mess with the customers. I was willing to pay him, but he declined - so I thought, um, this would at least be a small form of thanks.”

Looking at the bag, Marinette smiled. “He even made a sale. I know it’s probably… not the best idea for him to do something like that, with his fame, so I hope he didn’t get in trouble because of me. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Adrien’s father turned, a brow raised. “That... sounds like my stubborn son.”

She laughed lightly. “Stubborn is a good word for him.” They met eyes, and Marinette was relieved to actually see him smiling.

Proudly.

“And again, I really am sorry for just showing up like this, sir. If I had known Adrien was out I would have just dropped this off,” she gestured towards her bag, ducking her head shyly. “I appreciate you letting me wait with you, but I do have to get to work soon.”

Adrien’s father adjusted his glasses and glanced at his watch. “I see. Well, your apology is not necessary Mme. Dupain-Cheng, but it is a nice gesture. You can leave the… gift with me, and I’ll make sure Adrien receives it once he gets home.”

Beaming, Marinette nodded and stood up, walking out of the pit towards the door. He followed a few steps behind her into the foyer. She put a hand on the door and prepared to open it when he caught her attention.

“By the way,” he said, voice curious. “What was the name again?”

She blinked, admittedly a little hurt. “M-my name? It’s Marinette Dup -- ”

“No, I’m sorry,” Monsieur Agreste stopped her with a hand. “I meant, the name of your place of work. The flower shop.”

“O-oh! I don’t think I said it, my apologies… It’s Sous les feuilles si vert.” She dug in her purse quickly, Tikki pressed against the very bottom. The kwami read her mind and lifted a business card for Marinette to grab. “I, um, imagine you have a florist on hand… but if you ever need anything quickly we are over off Courtier St.!” She nodded fervently as he accepted the card, and Mounsier Agreste studied the piece of cardstock in his hand.

“Under leaves so green? An interesting name…” He tucked the card in his breast pocket as Marinette pulled open the door.

“We can’t take credit, that was the name when my parents bought it. The previous owner said it’s from a famous poet… William Blake, I think.”

The man wrinkled his nose. “English. I should have figured.”

Marinette giggled nervously and started out the door, waving. “Yes, my thoughts exactly. Thank you again, sir, for everything!”

His expression was strange, looking caught between amusement and something else she couldn’t identify, and Marinette found couldn’t get around the gate fast enough. Each step was a beat to her mantra, repeating again and again as she made her way to work.

You. Just. Met. Adrien’s. Dad. THE. GABRIEL. AGRESTE. You. Just. Met. Adrien’s. Dad.

THE.

GABRIEL.

AGRESTE.

That had gone far better than she could have imagined - if she had been planning on meeting Gabriel Agreste today. Seeing Adrien and dumping three years’ worth of feelings in his lap, with gifts in tow? Yeah, that part could have gone better.

Still, the whole way to the shop, Marinette felt a spring in her step, a lightness in her chest. The blaring philharmonic that carried her to the mansion had quieted, shifted keys, and now the melody was brighter. It twisted and bloomed, unrefined around the edges and a little off-tempo, but Marinette found that she rather enjoyed it. It felt natural and beautiful and right.

This felt right.

   The question came a second time, with a different inflection but a surprising amount of patience on his father’s behalf.

“Are you in a relationship with Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

Adrien had half a mind to wonder what he looked like at that moment, because he was pretty sure his face would have made for a good laugh for Nino. Alya, too. Heck, even probably Marinette would get a kick out of his scrunched lips, drawn brow but concerningly wide eyes. It was a mixture of shock and embarrassment and a stupid amount of pride. That emotion definitely doesn’t belong there, mixed in with the others. Adrien was at least self-aware enough to recognize that, but he didn’t question it, either. That’s love for you.

“I’m not...” Adrien managed, meeting his father’s gaze. “But... I... want to be.”

Across the table-desk-runway, his father’s face remained passive, but a curious finger tapped his pointed chin.

“I see. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Adrien was wondering if this was a joke and some washed up celebrity was going to pop up and shout “You been PUNK’D!” in his face. Then again, that was even less likely a thing his father would agree to... So, somehow, this conversation was really, actually happening.

Struggling to find the words, Adrien leaned over his knees and rested his elbows on his leg. “I… I didn’t even think you knew who Marinette was. It’s all still sort of… new… I’m just sort of admitting it to myself, to be honest.”

A beat of silence passed, and he heard his dad release a long sigh. The clipped sound of dress shoes on cold floors were like short little needles, pricking his ears until the swishing of fabric told him that his father was sitting beside him.

“I’m sorry, Adrien.” His voice was gentler than Adrien was used to, and the blond glanced at him. Glasses off, his father looked uncharacteristically pensive - regretful, almost. “You’re not wrong. I didn’t know her name until this morning, and I feel… I’m not sure how I feel, actually.”

Adrien blinked, too surprised to react verbally, just watching his father return the glasses to his face and lean back, crossing one leg over his knee and looking at the ceiling.

“I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but I at least hope you know that you can talk to me about anything.” With a little grin, he glimpsed towards his son. “Even about girls, believe it or not.”

Adrien leaned back too, folding his hands in his lap. His fumbling thumbs seemed much more interesting all of the sudden, and it certainly didn’t have anything to do with the redness he felt rush across his cheeks.

“Father,” he stopped to clear his throat, surprised by how choked he sounded. “I, um, thank you. I… I know that. I guess I just haven’t figured out a lot of this myself yet. I only just discovered that she has feelings for me, so I’m trying to make sense of it… I don’t want to freak her out by coming on too strong, but I hate not having my phone. She’s… she’s sort of amazing, Dad.” He laughed through the stress, halting momentarily to gaze down the length of the room. A portrait of molten gold, beautiful as the woman portrayed there, made Adrien smile. Words were coming easier, and it felt like his Mom was listening, too. He imagined she would approve - but then, how could she not? Marinette was perfect.

Indeed, so wonderful, Adrien didn’t even realize that he started rambling.

“Her parents are bakers, and she works at a flower shop around the corner. That’s… that’s where I was, actually, when I lied to Nathalie a few days ago. I really was with Nino and his girlfriend Alya, but I wanted to see her and I just sort of got caught up. Sometimes I can’t even remember my own name when she’s talking about something, she gets really…” Adrien paused, trying to use his hands to explain. It didn’t even occur to him that he was rambling.

“Animated? I don’t know. I can’t figure her out, and that’s the best part about her. And… well, I didn’t want to tell you because… um, I don’t know. She’s really kind, Father, but I don’t know if she’s… uhh, who you would expect me to date,” Pursing his lips momentarily, Adrien turned back to face the man seated next to him.

“But I think you might like her if you met her. She’s interested in design, so you would even have something to talk about.”

At this point, Adrien was pretty sure it could have started raining akumas in the room and he wouldn’t have been surprised. A very large part of him still wasn't convinced this conversation was really even happening.

Adrien was startled a second time, and it was by a sound so foreign that could do little else but stare.

His father was laughing.

Really laughing. Covering-his-face-with-a-hand laughing. Shaking-and-covering-his-stomach laughing.

Laughing.

Adrien was torn between confusion, indigination, and shock just at hearing the sound come from his own father. Still, his lips turned up and let out a laugh or two himself; it was an infectious sound.

Eventually, through some breathy chuckles, his father shook his head and stood, turning towards the door. “I didn’t realize you felt so strongly for her, son. I am... happy for you, but I wish you would have let me finish.”

Adrien frowned. “Finish… finish what?”

Only then did he notice the bag sitting by the door, and Adrien balked. It was brown paper, stamped with a familiar logo across the front.

“Didn’t you wonder how I knew about your interest in Mme. Dupain-Cheng?”

Adrien just opened his mouth and closed it again, utterly baffled. Did his Dad go to the bakery? Or the flower shop? Had he gone through his text messages? But that wouldn’t give him away - he hardly texted Marinette. Adrien had just sort of assumed Nathalie had told his father about this morning, but he had already figured that wouldn’t have made sense for his assistant to do.

“These are for you. They were delivered this morning, in-person.”

“In… person?” Adrien accepted the bag and pulled out tissue paper, his hands shaking with disbelief and unbridled excitement.

A small piece of stationary was the first thing he could find, tucked into the silky face of a dozen tiny petals.

 “ 绣球花”

For your help.

  Love,

Marinette

 He blinked at the Chinese. “Hydrangeas.”

[varikasnuori]

The Miraculous PA Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Chapter 1.

A big interview

As Marinette brushed her teeth she stared at herself in the mirror. She knew that she had to look extra professional and put together. The fashion house she was interviewing for was the biggest name in Paris, if not the whole of France. An internship at Agreste Fashion House could lead to actual designing gigs and a full time job as a designer at almost any fashion house in the western world.

Marinette spat out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth, giving herself a wide toothy grin in the mirror. Seven years of braces in elementary and middle school had really paid off as her pearly whites were lined up perfectly. She then tied her hair back into a professional ponytail and put on some lipgloss and mascara. Her makeup skills weren’t on the same level as her friends Juleka or Rose and definitely not on the same level as her best friend Alyas.

A quick glance at the clock and Marinette was feeling her nerves get the best of her. Even though she got up this early didn’t mean she would make the interview at 8AM, on the other side of the city. She always seemed to have some bad luck when it came to something important. She had spilled coffee on her application to Paris Fashion Institute a few years back and then a few weeks later her portfolio got rained on as she was just about to send it in. By the grace of God or some other entity she still got in, but she was reminded of her bad luck by the headmistress who seemed to have something against her.

Marinette threw on her coat and rushed outside, hailing a cab and telling the driver to take her to the Agreste headquarters. She fiddled with her fingers and looked out the window, seeing the buildings pass her by with leafy green trees that lined the sidewalks. After a long taxi drive she paid the driver and got off. Everything was going well so far, kind of suspicious. Maybe lady luck was on her side today.

The glistening white building clashed with its surroundings. The Agreste Fashion House was the epitome of modern architecture, with steel accents and big windows that served as mirrors to the pedestrians outside. Marinette took a deep breath in and walked through the big front doors. Everything was bright and white, with potted greenery here and there and a screen that showed the newest photoshoot pictures.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng?” a stern voice said behind her.

“Huh? Oh, yes! I mean, that would be me, Marinette”, Marinette rambled as her eyes settled on the tall woman behind her.

“Nathalie Sancoeur. I am here to take you to be interviewed for the position of…” The woman was cut off by a flash of pink that made her lose focus.

That flash of pink was Alix, who was currently rollerskating in circles in the lobby with security on her tail. Alix made it back to the doors and yelled good luck to Marinette, who was pink in her face.

“Do you know her?” Nathalie asked Marinette who shrunk down.

“Eh… Yes? I mean no! I mean…”, Marinette fumbled, not knowing if this was one of those times when a white lie wouldn’t hurt even though she hated lying.

“Let’s go then, follow me”, Nathalie said, completely ignoring poor Marinette and her inner battle.

Marinette straightened her back and followed Nathalie into the elevator. She watched as the number got higher and higher until it reached the second to the top floor, 7. The two women walked out of the elevator and Nathalie opened the first door to their left.

“Wait here”, Nathalie said and left as soon as Marinette had sat down on one of the designer faux leather chairs.

Marinette didn’t have time to ask Nathalie why she had to wait here alone or why she was brought so high up when the designer level was a few floors down. At least that’s what it said on the floor plan in the elevator. She gazed around and she could see people walking outside, some on their way to work and others on a run. It wasn’t too busy, it was only 7.55 AM on a Saturday after all. Time went by painfully slowly and Marinette started to fear the worst. What if this was all a prank? A cruel prank orchestrated by some rich kids with too much time and money on their hands.

“Are you here for the interview?” A light, melodic voice called out and Marinette jumped up off her chair.

“Yes, Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s the name”, she said and cringed internally. Why did she have to be so nervous.

“Great, you know it’s super hard to find candidates for this job that have such a great resume as you do”, the lady said while looking down at a tablet. “Top student at Collège Francoise Dupont, studied at Paris Fashion Institute and graduated with honors”, she read off her tablet and looked up at Marinette.

“Uh, thank you, miss?” Marinette looked at the woman sheepishly.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself! My name is Samantha Melrose”, the supposed interviewer said and extended her hand to Marinette, which she took.

“Now that we got that done, how about we get some coffee and get down to business”, Samantha said and she put her tablet down, smiling at Marinette.

Marinettes nerves seemed to wash away as the interview continued. She got to talk about her fashions, her extracurricular activities that had made her who she is today and her schedule. Totally free, by the way.

When Marinette took the elevator back down she felt relieved and hopeful. Samantha seemed nice and she hoped that they would be working together soon. That is if she got the job. Marinette took out her phone and saw that she had gotten texts from all her friends, wishing her luck and telling her that she would get the job if the employer was smart. She smiled to herself and sent thank you messages back to each and every one of them.

It was now 9.30 AM, the interview had taken longer than what she had initially thought, but she still had time to catch the subway and meet Alya at her parents bakery before 10. Sometimes she was really grateful of the public transport in Paris.

Alya was waiting for Marinette in front of the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie, with her nose deep in her phone. Marinette mused that she was probably texting her boyfriend Nino or maybe she was reading her favourite superhero comic Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Hey Alya!” Marinette walked up to her bestie and with her finger she lowered the phone from Alyas face. “You ready for late breakfast?”

“Mari! You won’t believe what I just read”, Alya practically screamed and pushed her phone to Marinettes face.

It took a few seconds for Marinettes eyes to focus on the screen, but the headline immediately caught her attention.

MODEL ADRIEN AGRESTE SPOTTED IN PARIS

“They are talking about him having a more active role in the business side of things now that he’s 21”, Alya said as she pulled the phone back and put it into her pocket.

“Adriens back from the States?” Marinette asked with excitement in her voice.

“I know he’s your number one celebrity crush so I thought you’d want to know ASAP”, Alya said as she opened the door to Tom and Sabines bakery.

“Adriens back from the States…” Marinette said as she walked inside, completely lost in her thoughts.

“Well hello to you too, Marinette”, Sabine said with a smirk as she put a plate full of fresh pastries down on the corner table that Marinette and Alya frequented.

“Good morning Sabine, Tom”, Alya said cheerily and grabbed a warm ham and cheese filled croissant.

“Good morning Alya, did you get any details about our princesses big interview before she shut down?” Tom boomed from behind the counter as Sabine was ringing down a client.

“Didn’t quite get to it yet. Just wait a few minutes, she won’t stay in the clouds forever”, Alya said as she munched on the croissant.

There’s a second chapter up on AO3 and I’ll be releasing new chapters soon. Please take a look is you’re interested to see where the story goes in the future!

[real-fakedoors]

under leaves so green - CHPT 9 - Miraculous Ladybug

After the Dupain-Cheng family purchases a flower shop around the block from the Agreste mansion, Chat Noir frequents the spot in search of company from the manager-but-not-really Marinette. Beneath the mask, Adrien starts to struggle with how cute she looks in that green apron. (AKA: the not-really flower shop AU where basically everything is the same, but Marinette is extra stressed by her job and Adrien tries to be supportive)

Crossposted on AO3 and FF.net

Chapter 9: The Hummingbird Flower

In which, Adrien and Marinette are both very excited for their date, and Chat Noir decides he can't wait until tomorrow to see her.

We apologize: your regularly scheduled Marichat programming has been interrupted by a surprise guest appearance.

Marinette had never enjoyed her work so completely.

Sure, it was hard and laborious as ever, but she could practically feel the happiness seeping into her pores with the light of the sun. Every breath came easy, every customer seemed pleasant, each order was seamless, and all of her plants smiled brightly back at her. Her brash Banks’ roses were a magnet of attention, lustrous rubies beneath a cloudless sky. Subtly even seemed a quiet grace in the form of her painter’s paradise of hydrangeas or by her terracotta beheld boxwoods. Within, Marinette’s heart was a hummingbird, and the greenhouse seeped with the lush overgrowth of peaceful fullness.

It felt like she had forgotten how to frown.

Her phone had been buzzing all day, and Adrien’s name was a frequent one that came across the screen. In fairness, he hadn’t been the one to text her originally; their group text was blowing up with Alya’s planning, only to be derailed almost immediately by Nino and Adrien. As it happened, Marinette didn’t a bit. Heck, her phone could fall into a bag of topsoil and be crushed by the delivery truck, and she was certain her mood still would not be hampered.

With respect to the conversation, Marinette wasn’t able to contribute much. She was constantly busy with the demands of her job, but she appreciated that her friends didn’t fault her for her radio silence. It was simple and nice, to peek at the screen occasionally when a customer headed out the door or between restocking the shelves. Alya had been the one to initiate the four-way chat today by sending a picture of the Louve from the street - why she was around that part of town, Marinette hadn’t a clue - and pushing the La Nuit des musées idea onto all of them, but since then the conversation had degraded to mostly dumb humor and well-meaning goading between the boys.

Alya was by no means absent, though. She and Nino poked plenty of fun at the both of them for their date plans tomorrow night. Adrien had been quick to try to shut it down (for what he said was Marinette’s sake, to not make her feel uncomfortable) but they were persistent. Still, through dodging plentiful innuendos and frequent sarcasm, Marinette thought Adrien seemed rather excited to talk about it.

Proud, even.

That thought sent her running towards the back with rose-tinted cheeks more times than she was willing to admit.

The reporter-to-be eventually looped them back to a proper topic, about spending that Saturday night at the La Nuit des musées. It was an annual event in Paris that only happened one night of the year where all of the big museums remained open from dusk ‘til dawn. There was a modest upfront charge for a wristband that allowed unlimited access to all of the participating venues. Any of the Paris museums worth their salt were included on the list, so it would have felt foolish if she were to not go: the Louvre, Musée d'Orsay, the Centre Pompidou, the Arts and Metiers Museum, the Decorative Arts Museum, and the Palais de la Découverte were all possibilities.

Marinette was excited by the prospect of attending, although that would be with a post-date Adrien... so the possibilities for what that night might turn into was like dividing by zero. At least until Tuesday passed, Marinette could whip between gooseflesh and stomach cramps at the possibilities for Saturday night quicker than she could sew a seam.

Between watering planters and wrapping bouquets, Marinette noticed an uncharacteristically serious text from Adrien directed towards a tag-team of Alya and Nino insisting he give them a firm answer on La Nuit.

Adrien (1:56 PM):

Um, idk if I can. I want to, but Nathalie says there’s something on my schedule I don’t think I can get out of.

And now that it was on her mind, she did recall Adrien saying he wasn’t going to be available on Saturday. It explained why he kept getting off-topic, probably trying to avoid disappointing everyone. Marinette couldn’t blame him for that, even if she was saddened to think on it. She would probably still attend if Alya and Nino wanted to, since it was a one-night-opportunity, but she would definitely skip out on the reception and deal with the minor annoyance of third-wheeling.

After another thirty minutes, Marinette ate her lunch in the back office while going over her next purchase order. Tikki played the part of sympathetic audience.

“Ugh, these prices… How’s a girl supposed to eat?” She said, taking an entirely ironic bit from the lunch Maman had prepared for her. It was some sort of curried potatoes and rice creation.

Tikki frowned and settled into her shoulder, nibbling on her favorite variety of macron.

“Well, at least the need to order plenty means you’re doing good business, right?”

Marinette sighed and retrieved the “company” checkbook (it was just her parents, linked to the business account with their bank) and wrote out a figure with so many 0’s she actually had to double-check to make sure she hadn’t made an error.

“Yeah, I suppose… Maybe it’s a seasonal thing, but all of this?” Marinette pointed down at the catalog, finger tracing plastic planters and floral wire. “It’s annoying that they would inflate the price of necessities because they know we need them.”

Tikki giggled and adjusted her weight on Marinette’s shoulder. “Maybe Hawkmoth akumatized the factory workers. If there’s no flowers left in the city, what will draw ladybugs to Paris?”

The girl shook her head and chuckled. “Why didn’t I see it before? The answer was so obvious, Tikki!”

They shared a laugh and Marinette took another bite of her food, sealing the envelope and writing down the purchasing figure in the books. Hopefully this was the just the height of seasonal pricing, because they were barely breaking even with these sort of margins.

Just as she finished her food and took a long drink from a water bottle, the bell at the front chimed. Marinette could only check the messages on her phone and couldn’t get much utility from the device otherwise during business hours, so she opted to leave it with Tikki who could pass the time watching videos.

Marinette wiped her hands quickly on her apron and walked through the front of the store. A young gentleman, well-dressed and a few years her senior, had walked in looking very nervous. He eyed an assortment of bouquets wearily, and Marinette had to suppress the urge to laugh.

Mo would get a kick out of this.

If a man came to the store alone, Mo had warned her of three things.

“When M&M is at its end, when I go, you’ll need to be wary on your own! ...Yes, Marinette, I just rhymed, you can stop laughing now. I am but a poet who doesn’t even know it!”

Even in present day, Marinette rolled her eyes. Typical Mo.

“Young men - and nay, even some young women - will need your help with these purchases. They know nothing of the language of flowers, and they’ll be so blindsided by romance they won’t have the forethought to study up before coming to the store. If they are not purchasing for an apology or a date, then they may have a lustful eye for the unsuspecting female clerk, working the store alone. Don’t be afraid to use those muscles of yours to kick some sense into them, if you have to.”

Mo said he had an eye for that type, which Marinette frankly found to be a little ridiculous, but he would always insist on “helping” those clients so they might not make some sort of unwanted advance on her. It was actually very sweet how protective the old man had been, but she usually though he had a tendency for the dramatic.

Grinning, the bluenette strode across the counter and called his attention. “Bonjour. Can I help you?”

His face was conventionally handsome, a strong jaw with some dark five o’clock shadow that made him look a bit more mature. Glasses and brown eyes, darting and anxious, looked up at Marinette’s greeting.

“Oh, bonjour, Mlle. Um... actually, yeah, if you don’t mind. I’m not sure...” The customer turned his attention back towards the wide variety of bouquets Marinette had prepared, and she felt a little smug at having just finished restocking. It was a bit impressive to look at, especially for someone like this.

Marinette nodded and placed a hand at her hip, joining his study of the display. “Rather you did something wrong, or you’re aiming for a date. Right?”

There was a pause, and the man laughed in relief. “Wow, you’re good. Yeah, I… I’m trying to ‘impress’ someone.”

Marinette nodded, tapping her chin and keeping her eyes forward. That narrowed the possible list of appropriate bouquets, although it depended on what type of impression he was hoping to make.

“Well, if it’s a date,” Marinette mused, taking a step towards a cacophony of crimson, scarlet and ruby red buds that were easy to admire. “You might consider something classic. Roses are popular, of course, but…”

She gestured to another, softer and slightly fuller arrangement. “If you want something a little different, Hummingbird flowers are always a reliable, pretty pick.”

Marinette brushed the star shaped petals of the palest pink with her fingers, a delicate bunch accented by Baby’s Breath and White Diamond Limonium.

Roses were cheap to grow and they could sell them at a high mark-up, just by way of the demand. Fiscally, it probably would have made better sense to stick to upselling the former recommendation, but Marinette just will herself to make a sale based off money alone. There was soul within each stem, and some blossoms simply needed additional advertisement for people to appreciate their personalities.

“Hummingbirds?” The man croaked, and Marinette just nodded patiently.

“No, Hummingbird flowers. They’re technically called bouvardia. They’re simple, reall-- ”

The bell at the door interrupted her, so she quickly called a greeting before continuing.

“Bonjour! Just a moment, please! Sorry, but yes - bouvardia are really simple to care for, and they will keep for weeks. Just pop them in any vase and change the water every few days. They’re supposed to represent enthusiasm, and they have a…”

Her voice fizzled out, because a ringing in her ears didn’t stop. The bell was going off continuously, and it had picked up a rhythm.

Marinette turned to face the door, having caught a child playing with the bell to elicit such a sound before, but it turned out the chime was coming from someone much less predictable than a child.

“C-Chat Noir! Bonjour,” Marinette bowed her head, surprised to see him, and the customer turned with wide eyes.

Clasping his hands together, the young man bounced on his toes. “Wow! I-it’s… you! I’m a huge fan!”

The black cat, always one for a show, performed a theatrical bow while his tail swished around the middle aisle. “Ah, it’s always a pleasure to meet a fan! And in the most charming spot in all of Paris, no less.”

The gentleman beside Marinette practically floated over to Chat, and he vigorously took the heroes hand and shook. “I hate to ask - I’m sure you get this all the time, but could I get a selfie with you? My boyfriend wouldn’t believe me if I didn’t show him a photo!”

“Of course,” Chat accepted the man’s phone and they leaned in for a picture. “I actually happen to photograph rather well.”

Just after they snapped the shot, Chat caught Marinette’s eye, and the smug blond had the nerve to wink. Out of reflex, her head fell back on her shoulders, and she had to keep herself from hissing at him in annoyance.

“Yes, hello, Chat Noir. If you’re here for a purchase, I’d be happy to help you once I’m finished with this gentleman.”

“W-What?” The man clutched his phone to his chest, hugging the device like it was a lifeline. “No, please! Chat Noir, you go first. My thing isn’t important, it can wait!”

Chat Noir shook his head and smiled. As he opened his mouth to speak, however, the bell to the door rang again and Marinette thought seriously about throwing her hands up and quitting.

She fixed her face into a smile, certain that it was not convincing, and faced the door. “Bonjo-- …?”

There was no one there. Had the person stepped in and left immediately? It… had had happened before, though it struck her as odd.

Whatever the case, she could not complain. Chat’s presence alone certain to bring a tide of business crashing down Courtier St., so she needed to wrap things up.

Marinette stepped firmly towards the center of the store and gestured to young man who had begun texting furiously into his phone. “I’m sorry, sir, but I insist. Chat Noir is a hero of Paris, but in this store, he’s also a customer. You were here first, and I’ll assist him once we’ve made a choice for you.”

Behind the young man’s glasses, he blinked repeatedly and looked between the hero and Marinette like she had just started speaking Yiddish. It wasn’t until Chat nodded him to go that she was able to finish the sale, and thankfully, it had been quick thereafter. He seemed so starstruck that Marinette didn’t even have the chance to finish her explanation of Hummingbird flowers before he hastily accepted and passed her a shiny credit card.

“Wow, who would’ve thought? I’m here for flowers and bam! Chat Noir. This is such an amazing day!” He whispered across the counter to Marinette, who just smiled politely and passed him his receipt and requested a signature.

It really shouldn’t have struck her as a a surprise, as Chat Noir came frequently, but Marinette had gotten used to seeing him in the evening after the past week. Him coming here during the day while she drowned in work seemed comparatively frustrating, but Marinette kept her voice kind all the way until the man left the store (only after he stopped to shake Chat Noir’s hand two more times, of course).

Even so, Marinette had nothing but positivity to offer today, grinning at the alley cat who had folded his hands neatly behind his back.

“Hi, Marinette.” Chat said once they were alone, and she raised a brow at him. The cat must’ve hit his head or was actively hiding something, because the look he was giving her was filled with unusual admiration.

“Hello, minou,” Marinette smiled as she returned to the counter. Chat respectfully remained on the other side, though he did walk rather close behind her.

Sticking her tongue out, Marinette broke through his intense stare when they both laughed. “What brings you by today?”

“Ah, right meow? I was simply in the neighborhood and thought you might want some company of the kitten variety.” He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows, and Marinette just slapped a palm into her face.

With a good-humored sigh, she picked up some papers and began to make a few notes. “I’m so flattered, Chat, you have no idea. How could I ever thank you?”

“Oh I’ve got a few ideas, Puur-incess. Especially now that I know you sneak boys into your room.” His voice was riddled with suggestiveness, but it was clearly sarcastic. Marinette just shook her head and giggled.

Chat seemed to notice her exuberance and commented, “Well, isn’t your cat-titude just meow-valous today? Even my puns seem ineffective!”

Marinette just exhaled brightly and met his gaze. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I happen to be in a very great mood.”

“Oh? Do tell!” The black-suited hero leaned his elbows on the counter, coming closer in interest.

Her face flushed, but she did not look away. “Well, that friend I was telling you about… They came back, and…”

She stopped mid-sentence, interrupted yet again by the ever-present bell that called her attention, and Chat straightened when she glanced over his shoulder.

There was no one there.

“Again?” Marinette pursed her lips in annoyance, walking around the counter and coming to the door.

Chat stayed a pace behind her, watching her examination of the doorknob. “Is something wrong?”

“I think there’s something broken… with the… um…”

Marinette’s voice trailed off, but not, for once, due to lack of the right words or a sputtering confidence. Instead, her attention had been caught by some unusual activity beyond the glass walls. Instead of a typical flow of passing couples, groups of friends, or parents and their children, the predictable midday ambiance of Paris had been unsettled.

“Something’s happening,” Marinette whispered, voice suddenly urgent. Chat scowled and moved right up to the window, standing so close she could feel the smooth exterior of his suit as he looked into the road.

Indeed, people were no longer passing along peacefully, a steady tide of leisure down the sidewalks. No, the current had picked up, and a wind was blowing ever East, loud and panicked. People were screaming, and running, and clutching their loved ones.

Chat clenched his jaw. “An akuma.”

Marinette tried for a playful smirk. “I suppose it was inevitable, wasn’t it?”

He pursed his lips, and the witty joke that Marinette expected didn’t come. Instead, Chat Noir turned to her and put a hand on each of her shoulders.

“Go hide, Princess.” The sharpness of his tone surprised her. “Please.”

“Umm…” she felt his hands squeeze her slightly. “O-okay, Chat Noir. Be careful.”

The promise of her safety must have been enough to undo whatever had rattled him, because his smile turned huge and he stepped away, bowing low.

“But of course, I’m paw-sitive things will be just f-el-ine.”

Marinette rolled her eyes while the cat hopped away, the only force of nature moving against the clamor of people fleeing the source of danger.

Wistful, Marinette watched him go, worried again. Was he okay?

“Marinette!” Tikki chimed, flying a few inches in front of her. At what point her kwami had come to the front of the store, the girl had no idea. “Aren’t we going?”

“O-oh, right!” She nodded seriously. “Let me go out the back…”

As quickly as she could manage, Marinette locked the front door and ran through the exit on the southern side of the building. Thankfully, everyone in this part of town had already fled or found refuge indoors, so it seemed safe enough to transform.

Marinette met eyes with her kwami, and the two shared a fierce nod. “Tikki, spots on!”

In a flash, a strength flowered from her core as red spandex fit to her like a second skin. Clarity and focus settled in her mind with ease, and with a contented sigh, Ladybug stepped out into the courtyard.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Ladybug said, mostly to get herself to get in the right headspace for a fight. It’s been weeks, and taking to the rooftops with her yo-yo in hand felt invigorating.

Back-tracking slightly so no one might see her depart directly from the flower shop, she ultimately headed towards the center of town. Ladybug made quick work of a few miles when the magical device in her outstretched hand began to buzz.

Finding a building to stop upon, Ladybug flipped open the screen, listening for disturbances or ambushes all the while.

“Chat Noir,” Ladybug nodded severely in greeting into the screen. The black cat grinned sheepishly, and she had to stop herself from laughing.

“Do I even want to know why you’re soaking wet?”

“Well, you see Bugaboo, it all started this morning when I -- “

“Mon chaton,” Ladybug said pointedly, raising her eyebrows at him. He shook himself off slightly like a drenched animal, and his hair seemed puffier as a result.

He kept his grin just as wide. “I’m afraid things are a bit fishy down by City Hall.”

“Fishy?”

Chat shrugged. “You’ll see. I’ll keep ‘em distracted for you, Bugaboo.” He sang her nickname and blew her a kiss.

Ladybug merely shook her head, flipping the screen closed. “That cat, sometimes…”

Setting a course towards her partner’s location, the heroine moved as a flash of red along the Parisian skyline. The roads were quiet in their vacancy, and it was always one of the worst parts of battling an akuma. People abandoned the streets and sucked the life from the city itself; it sounded of death and reminded her of absence, neither of which were conditions she yearned after.

Once City Hall was in sight, Ladybug quickly came to understand Chat’s meaning. The nearer she moved to the scene, the more that awful, odorous waves reeking of fish wafted to meet her. Even as a civilian, Ladybug was not the biggest fan of seafood, and this wasn’t the smell of a roasted salmon or freshly prepared sushi. It smelled like of salt and seawater, musky and dark and totally unpleasant. Vaguely, she recalled someone telling her once that olfactory experiences are more poignant than any other sensory memory; Ladybug could only hope that was hyperbolic, because this smell would surely haunt her forever.

“What the…” Ladybug muttered, covering her mouth and nose, trying in vain trying to block some of the oceanic air from making her dizzy. At the cusp of a large building looking over the city square, she looked down into the streets to find a torrent of… money? Coins, bills, and currency of every kind spilled into the streets, so high it covered some smaller buildings entirely. It was like a flood of cash sprang from City Hall and was rushing down the streets, a broken dam that began to submerge the city beneath the weight of wealth.

Baffled, Ladybug wondered aloud (through a compressed, nasally voice). “What kind of akuma is this?”

“Beats me,” answered a familiar call. She turned and spotted Chat Noir, retracting his baton and finding his footing. By the looks of it, he must have just vaulted to the top of the building himself.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was fishy, mon chaton… ugh, this is terrible.” Ladybug replied, scowling and scanning the world below in vain, searching for some source of the chaos.

“Really?” He seemed amused. “Maybe it’s the whole, cat-like-instincts thing, but I think it’s actually rather nice.”

“Bleh,” Ladybug stuck her tongue out, and her partner snickered at her expense.

Stretching his arms, Chat moved to the buildings’ edge and crouched down. The streets were still filling with money, a sea of metal and paper growing taller in the center of the square and spreading further down each side street.

“Looks like we don’t have anytime to waste, unless we want to be sleeping with the fishies,” he commented, almost sounding annoyed. Ladybug sighed, and they met eyes. She gave the cat an approving smile.

“Well, kitty, this seems like your specialty. It looks like it’s all centralized around City Hall, so we best start there.” Chat’s ears perked, and Ladybug’s grinned widened. “Shall we go akuma fishing?”

Chat stood and spun in a fluid movement, facing her after a full rotation and bowing. “It would be a pleasure, Bugaboo.”

Leading the way, Ladybug swung her yo-yo far and aimed high, not particularly interested in falling into the flood of currency - the smell seemed to come from the rising tides, and frankly, she was glad to have nothing to do with it. The catching wind while she leapt closer to the building actually helped to wick some of the odor from the air surrounding her face, but when she landed deftly on the roof of the building, it grew even worse. The gentle thud of Chat Noir landed beside her, and his voice was immediately alarmed.

“L-Ladybug! Are you okay?” He gripped her shoulders. “Why are you crying?”

She groaned and patted his hold, using the knuckles of her other hand to brush away the sudden tears.

“I’m just fine, thank you for the concern Chat. It’s the smell, my eyes are just watering. Ugh.” Setting her jaw, she tried to indicate finality with her tone, and thankfully Chat Noir drew back.

“Hmm,” Chat tapped his chin and walked to study some of the skylight windows. “If you don’t think you’ll be able to breathe, don’t be afraid to fall back, okay? Maybe we can draw the akuma out away from the, uh,” he paused, looking over the side of the building at the growing pile of cash. “Ocean?”

Ladybug huffed and squared her shoulders. “You might be right, but let’s see if we can’t figure out what’s going on first.” She had to blink through some latent wetness while investigating the glass beside Chat Noir.

“It doesn’t look like there’s - oh, well,” Chat was about to state the obvious - that there wasn’t anyone inside - but his claim would have become immediately false. The door to the mayor’s office burst open, and so far as they could see, all of the inner sanctums of the building remained entirely vacant of money.

Stepping out from the office and cackling wildly, a larger-than-life man stepped through the doorway (just barely fitting) and dragged a large net behind him. In some weird way, Ladybug was reminded of Santa Claus, but only if the jolly man of Christmas carols had jaundice and turned mad.

The man sported a bright, almost insultingly yellow, coat with matching hat and boots that covered almost his entire body. A few inches between the bottom of the coat and the top of the boots exposed gray tattered clothes beneath, and even the man’s face was largely obscured by a bushy grey-white beard. Striking against the his drab appearance, his eyes were gruesome - one, large and blown from glass, matched by a scar from lid to cheek, and the other was gray as an overcast sky. What little of his face was visible and not disfigured appeared papery and tough, and he must have been getting up there in age.

Thrown over his shoulder, adding to the illusion of a deranged Kristopher Kringle, the man gripped a net at least double his size. Large and black woven wire crossed over itself into what must have been some sort of fisherman’s net; it was the only part of his get-up that seemed a clear candidate for the akuma to hide.

Ladybug grimaced when she realized the net was not empty.

“He’s got the mayor,” Chat commented, almost as casually as if he were remarking on the weather. With a glance over the streets, Ladybug noted the rising rate of the strange paper and metal sea, and snapped her fingers.

“Ah. The treasury is in this building. That’s probably where the money is coming from, and I think it’s below ground.”

Chat nodded, already understanding her meaning.

“I’ll stop the flood,” he offered.

She smiled. “And I’ll try to get the net away from ol’ greybeard.”

With a quick nod, she watched Chat dive from the building into the “water” with surprising grace. The sound of his body hitting a conglomerate of metal, however, did not sound at all pleasant.

“It probably doesn’t tread like water,” Ladybug yelled down to him through cupped hands. She giggled as Chat massaged his backside, more crawling than swimming towards the bit of the entrance that was still visible.

He called back to her. “That would have been helpful about 10 seconds ago!”

Allowing herself a little laugh, the red heroine readjusted her shoulders and faced the window again. The akumatized victim was shouting something nonsensical to the mayor, who was quivering under the net. She needed to act quickly before things escalated into some sort of hostage situation.

The windows on the roof did not have any visible locking mechanisms, so Ladybug shrugged and kicked through the glass, leaping to the marble tiles effortlessly.

“Let him go!” She demanded as the yellow-coated man turned to face her, and much to her surprise, he dragged the mayor’s weight with his turn.

The moment of recognition came too slow, though, and Mayor Bourgeois slammed into her and knocked her back into a pillar.

“Ladybug!” He cried, seemingly uninjured though he had just been used as a weapon.

Groaning, she blinked a few times and tried to ignore the several tender spots where rock had met her back muscles, and took another, more prepared stance across the hall outside the mayor’s office.

A different approach, she held her yo-yo at the ready. “What do you want?”

“Fair trade in the state of France!” He shouted automatically, adjusting the net at his shoulder. “And I, the Pêcheur, ain’t going to let some bug get in the way of what the hardworkin’ people of France deserve!”

Ladybug dropped and rolled away from the swing of the net she knew was coming, the threat evident behind his words. Not a moment too soon, as a loud crunching sound left a crater against the wall where she had just been standing. Maybe the net wasn’t hiding the akuma after all? It seemed really careless to swing around the object she needed to destroy so recklessly.

“The people of France don’t want violence, Fisherman, I can assure you that.” Ladybug replied calmly, standing and gripping her yo-yo. If not the net, than what?

The hat? Maybe… It still didn’t feel right, though.

“Oh I don’t know,” he said, cackling and swinging the mayor like a ragdoll. Ladybug winced, glad whatever magic kept Mayor Bourgeois in the net equally seemed to stop him from getting hurt. Still, he was a civilian, so she needed to get him out of here as quickly as possible. With a hasty scan of her surroundings, Ladybug noticed an elevator at one end of the hall.

“The people of France welcomed a revolution filled with violence, or did you forget, Little Miss?”

Backpedaling down the length of the corridor, Ladybug tried to keep Pêcheur far enough away that he would have to release his net to swing it at her, but near enough that he kept in pursuit. Just a little further…

“That’s true, but times have changed, Fisherman!” Ladybug took a threatening posture with her weapon in one hand, her other hand seeking the elevator button. “You can’t expect the people of Paris to--”

She stopped when the lift behind her dinged lightly, and she reared back with her yo-yo ready to send it spiraling around his ankles. In retaliation, Pêcheur roared furiously and whipped his net around, swinging it at her with barbaric force.

Perfect.

Like pretending to throw a dog a bone, she kept a close hold on her yo-yo, leaping over the net as it swept at her. Instead, she flung the trusty weapon at the man’s forearm that had a hold on the mayor. With a cry of pain, he dropped the net just in front of the elevator, and gravity did the rest.

She fell to the earth just inches in front of Mayor Bourgeois and quickly dragged him backwards before the elevator closed.

An angry wallop could be heard against the metal doors, but she had been just fast enough to complete the getaway. Immediately, Ladybug began to unravel a whimpering Mayor Bourgeois.

“Mayor! Are you alright?”

He was shaking, but appeared unharmed. “Y-yes, Ladybug. Thank you! I feel t-terrible about this…”

Ladybug noted a pleasant beep above their heads; they entered on the third floor, and she had her sights on the basement.

“Do you know what happened? Who is Pêcheur?”

Mayor Bourgeois made a face. “Well, he’s a fisherman.”

“... Yes, thank you, Mayor. And?” It was difficult to keep the irritation from her voice as she lifted the last bit of net above his head.

Another beep.

One more floor.

“He came to my office with a proposed bill to reduce the state tariffs on exporting fish, but that is something politically way above my head. I’m just a mayor! When I refused to bring his concern to my compatriots at the Assemblée nationale, he screamed about earning his livelihood at sea and stormed from my office.” The man completed his explanation as Ladybug helped him stand. Once he was steady, she reared an arm high in the air and used her foot as a counterbalance, tearing the net wide.

No butterflies here.

As if on cue, the final ding sounded in time with Ladybug’s sigh and the doors opened.

The horrible, repugnant scent of dead fish flared in her throat, and the mayor covered his mouth to stop from throwing up. A small influx of money spilled around their ankles, but it wasn’t surging as it once had.

“Why, there you are Bugaboo,” Chat called nonchalantly straight across from them, using his bodyweight to keep a large bank-style safe closed. It was clearly giving under the stress of compounding currency within, but his barricade had stayed the madness temporarily.

He shifted when a particularly horrendous metal creaking sound went off behind him. It was clear the door was going to give soon.

“I hate to be a burden, but purr-haps you could lend this poor cat a hand?”

Ladybug helped the mayor wade through the mess to the stairs, and thankfully Chat had mostly cleared a path on his way inside. “Mayor, find any room to hide it. It’s too dangerous in the streets with all of this in the way,” she gestured at the mess at their feet. He quickly nodded and thanked her again before sputtering and slipping his way up the stairs.

In a flash, Ladybug flew across the remainder of the room and, with their  combined strength, managed to better stabilize the door.

“Okay, minou, got any ideas? Where’s the money even coming from?”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,” he said, the strain clear in his voice. “It doesn’t seem to be coming from anywhere. It’s just seeping through the ceiling in there. Like rain, almost.”

“Rain?” Ladybug glanced down. “And you were wet earlier, weren’t you?”

Chat scowled. “It wasn’t my fault, I was helping someone in a car that got turned over and some people running by were soaking wet.”

She frowned, brow drawn together as she looked at her feet. “Maybe this isn’t just like water. Maybe it is water, Chat. That explains why its able to sort of swish and move on its own, and there’s no way he could have an endless supply --”

The cat yelped as the door started to give a bit, and he hastily replied. “Yes, sure, great - your logic is amazing and you’re amazing, blah blah, but maybe we should get out of here?”

“Ugh,” Ladybug groaned, exerting even more force as the door started to buckle. “We need a plan first. If one of us lets go, the metal won’t hold.”

Ears perked, Chat Noir turned to her with a grin. “Wait a meow-ment! I have an idea! Just hold the door for one second, and um..well, actually...” His smile flickered and faded.

“Well?!” Ladybug shook her head, eyes bulging. “What are you waiting for? What is it!?”

“Umm, you’ll have to, uh, spread your… legs” he muttered. Frankly, she didn’t care about boundaries and all that - Chat clearly was not understanding the urgency of the situation.

“Okay! Okay, sure, just do whatever you have to!”

Chat frowned at her for a moment, as if surprised she trusted him so completely, but his focus came back with another groan of the metal.

His tone was hard. “Okay, hold the door.”

Under her breath, Ladybug muttered a quick retort through grit teeth. “Yeah, like I have much of a choice.”

Chat Noir moved directly in front of her, crouched down and drew his weight back. “Cataclysm!”

He aimed a hand, miasmatic and deadly, at the spot where the metal barrier met the ground, just between her feet, and the floor began to quake.

With his other arm, Chat wrapped a deft hand around her waist and extended his baton forward into the metal, just as the hinges began to snap, and drove them back into the elevator.

He smashed the button closed the moment they were inside. The door dented under the crushing weight of coins, but they were unscathed.

Ladybug heaved for air, crisp and sharp against her windpipe as they stood in the strangely quiet elevator. Beside her, Chat rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

“S-Sorry, that was close.” He glanced at their feet, noticing some netting caught in the small collection of coins and paper below. “I take it the akuma wasn’t in the net?”

Still breathless from exertion, she merely shook her head and glanced up at Chat. The moment they met eyes, his ring beeped twice.

“Ah…” he pressed his lips together and eyed his right hand in annoyance. “Well, any ideas?”

“I think…” she began, looking at the ceiling. “I think the guy isn’t going to leave the building. At some point, he’ll demand our miraculous, and we’re already here. More importantly, he said he wants to change the laws, I guess.”

Chat Noir snorted and ran a hand down his face. “They have like, petitions for that, right? Did getting akumatized seem like the most logical solution?”

His ring beeped again.

Ladybug was only half-listening, and she lifted herself up using the wall to support her weight, pushing through the latch in the ceiling. He didn’t need directions to know they were going up, the long way.

Once situated in the dark vertical tunnel, she squinted upwards and addressed Chat’s earlier question. “Yes, but, this man felt wronged, or cheated from what I gathered. He called himself the Pêcheur. The Mayor refused to help him… and he was talking about ‘the hardworking French people’. The smell, the ‘ocean’ of money, his outfit...”

A little more quietly, Chat reached the same conclusion she had earlier. “Ahh… A fisherman who wanted to improve wages or something to that effect, wronged by the Bourgeois. Literally, probably.”

She nodded, to which Chat added, “But what is he hoping to do?”

Another beep.

Ladybug just shook her head as she unsheathed her yo-yo, spinning it before grappling to the floor she had last seen him. “I have no idea, but we’ve got to stop it before things get more out of control. Your ‘second basement’ bought us some time, but Paris is going to flood if we don’t do something.

“It’s almost like the city is under-funded, am I right, Bugaboo?”

Chat had his baton ready, but Ladybug lifted a hand to stop him.

“You should stay here, you’re about to detransform. I’ll go after Pêcheur, and you recharge. Okay?”

She could tell, even in the low-light, his ears drooped slightly. The hard truth came in the form of his final beep, warning them of only sixty more seconds until he would revert to civilian form.

“I’ve got some food on me, so I’ll be able to catch up with you soon.” Chat offered, and Ladybug gave him a quick two-fingered salute.

“Bug out for now, mon chaton.”

--

The sound of hastily typing thumbs and a gorging kwami were the only things to break the silence for several minutes.

It was a little unnerving, sitting cross-legged at the bottom of a dark elevator shaft, waiting patiently for time to catch up to need. It was some sort of poetic pseudo-marketplace dealing in minutes and cheese, patience and fortune. Still, the quiet was peaceful, but it stirred a fear in his stomach.

Was Ladybug okay?

And another, newer worry found dominion beside that familiar fear.

Was Marinette okay?

Digitally speaking, things had spiraled out of control. Providing live updates to the Ladyblog, Alya was wading the sea (and probably earning herself some serious bruises along the way) while Nino had texted the group in clear panic, trying to get her to move inside or at least seek higher ground.

Marinette had not messaged any of them, which was disconcerting.

Adrien pulled up the blog in spite of himself, knowing his compliance was sort of encouraging Alya’s dangerous behavior, but it was an undeniably useful source of information when away from the throes of the fight.

The livestream was turning from selfie mode to photoview, and he cringed at the quick glimpse of Alya sauntering waist-deep towards the center of the city.

“Alright Ladybloggers, looks like there’s a change of scenery going on. Ladybug just appeared outside the building, and by the looks of it, no Chat Noir in sight.”

Scowling, Adrien and Plagg met eyes.

“The man calling himself Pêcheur,” Alya continued, oblivious to mutual annoyance of her audience in the elevator shaft. “Seems to be able to manipulate money, and he’s using the change to -- whoooaa,” Alya wavered and nearly dropped her camera, and the broadcast jostled disorientingly.

“We are in deep water now, folks, and that’s not a Chat Noir signature pun,” she shouted, and true to her word, the semi-calm mountains of cash had turned back to a freshet of angry ocean, literal water pouring into the city streets and sweeping Alya out and away with the deluge. His “second basement” must have bottomed out.

Adrien’s heart went out to Nino; at least Marinette had enough sense to stay inside.

“Okay folks, we need to seek higher ground. We couldn’t get close enough to hear the akuma’s threats, but there’s no denying one thing: he can control the water, and it can change to… well, change, apparently, by his whim. Stay safe everyone!”

She stopped the livestream, and Adrien couldn’t decide if it was appropriate to laugh or sigh. The girl was about as brave as Ladybug herself, but without the supersuit. In another life, she would have made a great superhero.

“Alright kid,” Plagg chewed his last piece of camambert and swallowed. “I’m ready when you are!”

Adrien stood quickly, his gaze fierce.

“Plagg, claws out!”

As easily as breathing, black leather encased his right arm and branched to his left, down his torso and hugging his body. Running a hand across his hair, familiar ears fit to his blond tresses and Chat Noir shook the familiar resurgence of power through his muscles.

“Round two.” He declared quietly, readying his baton to vault through the building, after Ladybug and the akuma.

Chat managed to trace after without issue, following the sounds of battle raging above his head. A clear hole had shattered a glass window, and the jagged edges offered droplets of water near the middle of the hallway. Unable to cling against their own gravity, the droplets turned to metal with a tiny shing each time another drop loosened and hit the marble floors.

Hmm. So LB and Alya were right. He turns water to money.

“But where is he even getting the water?” Chat wondered aloud, glaring at the ceiling.

A rush of red flew backwards across his line of sight, propelled by a gush of liquid that sounded hard and metallic upon impact.

He watched the Fisherman saunter forward, after what had clearly been an injured Ladybug. Chat waited just until the man crossed over the opening before vaulting himself on the roof.

“Hey now!” Chat taunted, twirling his baton upon landing. “Don’t you know that fish keep their money at the riverbank, Mounseir Pêcheur?”

Grinning, he paused to leap away from a second crashing wave of bills, rolling and landing on one knee. “C’mon, if you’re a Fisherman, surely you can catch me?”

Another rush of money snapped in his direction from over the side of the building, near enough that Chat felt the light tickle of passing air besides his ear.

The more Chat baited, the more the man fumed and rage, and the blond hero rather enjoyed watching the Fisherman’s face turn red beneath his yellow suit. It was clear, unbridled fury, and it was turning him reckless.

“Why are so crabby, anyways?” Chat mewled in time with the rising tides, the sound rapturous as metal smashed into concrete and plaster walls. Coins rained from above with the jostling movements, flying upwards only to smack against the top of his head. Chat hissed, more in annoyance than in pain.

Still, the Fisherman looked too ensorcelled to do much else than storm senselessly after the black cat. Not a single intelligible word passed through the man’s cracked lips, and of course, Chat Noir was never one to pass up a joke.

“What, cat got your tongue?”

In a furious roar, Pêcheur raised his arms high in the air and the sea moved with him, punching a hole straight through the roof with brute force.

Chat barely managed to backflip away from the assault, but it seemed Pêcheur had been hoping for that. He had driven Chat rather close to the edge of City Hall’s rooftop, and the hero barely managed to stay upright, thanking Plagg for his enhanced reflexes. Below, choppy tides and dangerous currents called up to him in a manmade monsoon.

“Heh, well, looks like you, uh, caught me?” Chat shrugged, and blessed be, Ladybug had regained her wits and he watched as the string of her yo-yo snaked around the Fisherman’s ankle just as he reared up for another attack.

A fierce shout garnered Chat’s attention while the man went sprawling.

“The akuma are the papers in his coat! It’s in his front pocket!”

Nimbly, Chat prowled forward and rolled the man over with his foot, ducking down to follow Ladybug’s directive. As he did, a massive shadow cast along the roof at his back, winking the sun out of existence. His ears were pitched to two sounds: one, of rustling paper and rising winds, and the other, a voice.

“Chat Noir! Look out!”

He had only time to cover his face before much more than just the sun was eclipsed - his whole body was smashed by waves of pain. Every muscle twisted and flared against sharp edges of coins and paper, crushing him beneath sheer weight alone. It was like getting smacked by a metal mallet, over every inch of his body, all at once.

“Lucky Charm!”

Oh thank god, Chat thought through grit teeth. It was disorienting, a rush of sensations that were fueled mostly by discomfort, shoving and dragging by invisible hands. The force of the hit had knocked him clean off the roof, and it was clear that the man was trying to drown him in a sea of greed.

A much different, sudden flare of pain made Chat wince, but this was neither a compression of coin or the twisting of substance pelting into his body again and again. It wasn’t the same light paper cuts that marked his cheeks and nose. This was tight and sharp, like someone was trying to pop his shoulder out of place.

Before he knew what was up from down, Chat Noir was airborne again.

He blinked several times, even more confused by his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was he had been freed of his alloy-bound tomb. The world was inverted, the fringe that usually rested along his face hanging down and away from his forehead, brushing into his sort-of-but-not-really cat ears. A definitely upside down and cute red heroine frowned at him- or was she grinning? - and raised an eyebrow in bemused appraisal.

“Hello, mon chaton,” teased Ladybug. “Can I borrow your baton?”

“Oh I suppose, it’s not like I’m using it, given that I’m just hanging around,” he grinned, though not without clenching his jaw through some of the latent soreness from his earlier battery. Chat reached for the trusted tool at his lower back and offered it to her.

Ladybug rolled her eyes and accepted his baton, only to let him go and crumple on the roof of what he figured to be a tall neighboring building. She had rigged some sort of pulley to bring him out of the crushing sea with her yo-yo and a large antenna. In her other hand, she held a comically huge polka-dot cutout of the mayor.

By now, the “water” had completely covered most of the square, and City Hall was immersed.

“Hmm, and where did our fishy friend go?” Chat asked as he rubbed the strain from his arms and shoulders.

Beside him, Ladybug pursed her lips while tieing one end of his baton and her yo-yo together, keeping the disc of her weapon dangling from the end. “He’s under the, uh, money somewhere. But I thought we might go back to our original plan.”

Chat watched her movements with interest, and Ladybug tested out his baton, extending it slowly.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

She smiled widely. “I thought we could try akuma fishing.”

And with no problem at all, she cast out their weapons into a makeshift fishing pole, far into the square with the cut-out of the mayor secured to one end. Her yo-yo stuck out above the choppy waves, a red sinker in the middle of a brown, silver and bronze mess of wealth.

Several seconds passed of silence, and Chat eventually offered, “Just like that?”

“Yep. Now we wait,” Ladybug offered simply, and Chat frowned when her earrings beeped.

“You sure about this?” He crossed his arms nervously, eyes scanning a jingling ocean.

That caused her to laugh, and it was a bubbly, infectious sound. Chat smiled.

“Of course, mon chaton. My lucky charm has never failed us before.”

“Well,” he shuffled his feet before deciding to sit down onto the roof beside her, boots almost grazing the top of the bristling body of money below. “I guess that’s true. This was a strange akuma, LB.”

After a pause, Ladybug replied. “Yes. It definitely was. I feel bad for the old man, he really seemed to just want a better life for himself and other fishermen.”

Another beep.

“I don’t think anyone can fault him that,” Chat responded, and they both fell quiet and watched the chaos start to calm. He must be close and spotted the bait.

Ladybug was going to change back in just another few minutes, and still the akuma hadn’t appeared. Even if they did manage to defeat it in time, it was sort of a shame. It had been awhile since he’d seen his partner, and Chat admittedly missed her company. Ladybug was one of his best friends, and… well, given the nature of their relationship, he felt like he should tell her about his recent interest in someone else. It’s not like it mattered really, but he loved Ladybug in the sort of way you would only with someone you’ve nearly died for, and who has nearly died for you.

With the recent luck he’s had as Adrien, Chat felt it was the sort of good news he could share with her and that she might want to know about. Even if he wouldn’t be able to refer to Marinette by name, it was something so new and pure that made him happy it was almost like lying to not talk about her. A lie of omission, almost.

Again, Ladybug’s earrings beeped, and Chat fidgeted uncomfortably.  “So… how are you?”

She blinked down at him, brow drawn together. “What?”

Rubbing his neck, Chat clarified. “Well, you know, it’s been a little while and…”

A horrible grinding sound caused them both to jump, and Chat sprang to his feet while Ladybug returned her focus forward. The baton was starting to bend under a sudden weight, and a swishing release of Ladybug’s “line” began zipping loudly over the water.

“This is it!” She said, but the sudden intensity of Pêcheur’s grip at the other end was starting to pull her over the building’s edge. Without a second thought, Chat situated himself behind her and wrapped his arms around the baton as well, using their combined strength and weight to doubleback against the line, and he cringed at the sound of beeping just beneath his head.

“Ladybug! You only two minutes left!” He managed, grinding his molars.

“It’s okay. I’ve got this,” she spoke confidently, and quick tug his baton began to retract in, dragging the akuma’s weight along with it.

Of course, just as Ladybug said, the rest was simple. Pêcheur’s body had gotten tied up in the wire of her yo-yo, unable to escape though he thrashed like a fish just caught from the ocean. Quicker than they ever had before, Chat leapt up, snatched the akuma and threw it down to his partner, and she quickly ripped the papers to shreds.

Ladybug bid the luminescent, glowing akuma farewell, and stayed only long enough to offer Chat her fist.

“Pound it!” She smiled before, in perfect Ladybug fashion, bugging out in the other direction.

Sighing contently, he watched her go from the rooftops, looking down into the center of Paris with satisfaction. Another successful battle, and Chat watched as the people began to return to their wares, ducking out from buildings hesitantly.

With some gentle reassurances, Chat helped escort the akumatized victim to the medical professionals, and he caught the tailend of a conversation between the man and Mayor Bourgeois.

“I really do apologize, Monseiur Naser. I’ll at least see if I can take it to my colleagues, but I do not know how much power I will have.”

“T-thank you, Mayor. I appreciate you even trying to make a change.”

Chat sighed and removed himself as politely as possible from the crowds, trying to disengage from the probes about Ladybug’s whereabouts or his take on the recent dry spell of akumas. Of course, he did his best to answer vaguely but kindly, and thanks to Ladybug’s power any of the pain or soreness from his body had been wicked away.

Paris had been defended, but that didn’t mean he felt his job was done. Chat still had someone waiting for him, halfway across town, but what had been intended as a short break between shooting for the new Gabriel ad had been totally sucked up in the attack. Once again, responsibility got in the way of seeing Marinette, and it had only been so fleeting. Chat did not want to jeopardize the recent headway he had made with his relationship with his father, so he was resigned to return to his civilian life.

Chat Noir took to the sky and his feet only touched the tops of buildings long enough to propel him into the air again, preferring the open wind to the chains of gravity that would return him to himself soon.

Carefully, he slipped into an alley behind the studio he was expected in and spoke three familiar words.

“Plagg, claws in.”

Adrien held his palms out carefully, and his black kwami settled himself comfortably against his chosen’s fingers. Unfortunately, Adrien had only brought cheese enough for one detransformation, and Plagg knew as much.

Grumbling, the kwami curled in on himself, much like the creature that gave Chat Noir his namesake. “If ya can gets me something with some cheese in it, I’ll forgive you... this time.”

Adrien smiled. “There’s a snack table in the back. It’s not camembert, but I’m pretty sure they have some cheeses.”

At that, Plagg mustered enough energy to float into the front pocket of Adrien’s jacket, urging him on towards the dressing rooms.

Adrien stopped in the middle of the hallway, spotting some floral arrangement with a flower he actually recognized. It was part of one of the “sets” for the shoot, he assumed, as it was complex and larger than life. This had been the first time he had been able to utilize Marinette’s lessons in all things floral outside of the shop, and the recognition caused his heart to skip a beat.

He wasn’t sure what came over him, and Plagg certainly did not understand why Adrien felt the urge to stop in the middle of his Holy Grail quest with cheese at the helm, but in a quick motion the blond had his phone in his hands and was snapping a picture of the flowers.

Adrien (3:01 PM):

I’m at a shoot today. I saw these and I thought of you. :)

The only disappointing thing was that he knew it wasn’t a Dupain-Cheng product - those were easy to spot. With each delivery he had seen Marinette prepare, rather as Chat Noir or as Adrien, he always noticed the tag she would attached to the outside somewhere with care; a handwritten note thanking each customer for their business.

“I’m dying, Adrien,” Plagg called dramatically, turning over inside his jacket. “I’ll never be able to help you fight another akuma again, or sneak into your girlfriend’s room late at night.”

Hastily, the teen shoved his phone back in his jeans and made a beeline for the snack table, shoving enough cheese into his jacket to satiate a fully grown human.

Adrien took off his coat in the dressing room and left Plagg to his disturbing feasting rituals, staying only long enough to grab his phone and take it out to the set with him.

Marinette (3:08 PM):

What a coincidence!! I just sold some of those earlier today! They’re (bouvardia) Hummingbird flowers. Sorta like those latanas you sold the other day. :D

Marinette (3:08 PM)

Although Mme. Kleinstein probably would’ve bought anything from you with those freakin puns.

He grinned, walking down the hall. Adrien wasted no time writing back, stopping just shy of the shooting area so he could finish his message.

Adrien (3:09 PM):

That was the best sale the store has ever made and you know it! I gtg, we’re about to start again - but I thought they were pretty and knew you would appreciate them.

“Aye! There you are!” The photographer called, snapping her fingers aggressively halfway across the room.

“S-Sorry,” Adrien stammered as he slipped his phone into his jeans, but the woman simply glared suspiciously before turning her attention back to fixing her camera.

Around the studio, clusters of people moved around in preparation. Set designers, wardrobe, make-up, photographers and aids, Nathalie, magazine editors and people with clipboards all fluttered about, busying themselves with this-or-that. You wouldn’t even know the whole city hadn’t been under siege not twenty minutes ago.

Adrien hadn’t much time to think about it before he was swept up in the din, being shuffled back into his next outfit and having hands poking and prodding around his body. It felt annoyingly like the sensation of getting smashed by a tidal wave of change, just a little less sharp.

Still, he was thankful that most of his shots today were ones requiring happy poses. With recent events, that posture came naturally and his smile felt less forced. The photographers commented on his unusually but refreshingly chipper attitude, and he could only blush when Nathalie mentioned off-handedly that he had a date tomorrow night.

It was true, and it’s not like he was ashamed of it.

Between shots, different people would whisper to him about it, and he tried to just brush it off with the same answer.

“I’m excited! Just a little nervous.”

For whatever reason, it turned out that had been the wrong thing for Adrien to say. Several of the adults took his honesty as an opportunity to grant him all sorts of unsolicited advice and to offer tips from their wide experiences dating.

Adrien knew most of these people moderately well - business acquaintances, he would probably label them. Some were comfortable enough to be on a first-name basis, but it wasn’t without an arm’s-length of familiarity between them, so discussing something so personal with people like this was… strange, definitely. But more than that, it was nice. Everyone was clearly excited for him, asking all sorts of questions about Marinette and their plans, how they met and how he asked her out. The photographer, Lila, audibly “aww’d” when he told her about her employment as (practical) sole proprietor of the flower shop.

By the time the next break came, an hour had passed and Adrien felt like he had just finished having the most bizzare group therapy session imaginable. Between the overwhelming positivity of the people around the studio and their decidedly bizarre interest in his love life, he strode to his dressing room to check on Plagg when another model spotted him.

“Oh, hi, Macey.” Adrien stopped and nodded politely. She was a brunette with a dark complexion, taller than his father probably, and he knew she was about five years older than he was. They had done dozens of shoots together for the Gabriel line, and she tended to treat him like a younger brother. While Macey wasn’t quite a friend, she was at least always polite and easy to talk to.

“So A,” she said, hand at her hip. “Tell me about Marinette.”

A rush of blood flooded his cheeks, and the woman laughed. She gestured for them to continue down the hall, which gave him a chance to clear his throat.

“Well, she’s in my class at school - I’m not sure how much you heard out there…?”

She brushed him off. “I want to hear it all again. From the top.”

The explanation felt practically rehearsed after talking to so many people about Marinette recently, so it only took a few minutes to re-explain his friendship and admiration for the dark-haired miracle in his life.

They were standing outside Adrien’s dressing room by the time Adrien finished.

“So you like her. Marinette.”

“Um,” Adrien blinked. Had she even been listening? Wasn’t that much obvious? “Yes. A-a lot, actually.”

“As in, maybe-one-day-a-serious-relationship?”

He nodded firmly, omitting the comment that popped into his head about the possibility they might already be in a relationship if not for his own obliviousness.

Lowering her voice, Macey glanced down the hall.

“Well, then, I’m really happy for you, A. Really.” She smiled, as Adrien was clearly confused. “But take it from me - be careful with the press, especially early on. I lost a lot of good guys to the stress brought on by the paparazzi.”

Ah. Right. That… actually made a lot of sense.

“I guess I didn’t really think about that, I’m just so used to it...” He admitted, tapping his chin.

Macey closed her eyes and nodded, satirically serious. “The burden of fame, my friend. I know it’ll be fine, but I couldn’t not say something. It really sucks if a story gets out of hand, you know?”

Adrien thanked her, and Macey left him to his room. As he entered, he found Plagg snoozing beneath his jacket, so Adrien looked around for his cellphone.

Crap.

He left it in his jeans, which were still over in wardrobe.

Sighing, he sat at the mirror and considered Macey’s advice. It was reminiscent of a rumor that had gotten out about him and Marinette once, and in retrospect, it was funny to think about it now. Someone had taken a photo of them at the park beside her house, under rather embarrassing circumstances if he recalled correctly, and the photo went viral with claims of a secret relationship. At the time, Marinette had taken the gossip in stride and insisted it wasn’t an issue, and like most tabloid fodder, it died out rather quickly since no one in the Agreste circle acknowledged the photos.

A photo or two was innocent enough, so they had no problem dismissing the public speculation surrounding their friendship. But now? If he and Marinette continued to spend more time together (a thought which made him grin in spite of himself), the winds would likely stir the rumor mill all over again.

The irony of all of this was not lost on him.

Adrien had grown up under the constant scrutiny associated with fame, bulbs flashing and shouts commandeering his attention just walking down the sidewalk. The press knew no boundaries, demanding answers on anything and everything ranging from French politics, to the disappearance of his mother, to his take on Chat Noir and Ladybug. Incidentally, when he first wore his miraculous, admiring fans had already been second nature at that point.

Would Marinette be okay with the publicity?

…Maybe?

She was sort of shy, but fierce when she wanted to be. It’s not like you had to be an extrovert to deal with photographers - look at his father, for example.

Still, Adrien didn’t want to upset her or make her uncomfortable. Especially as he’s gotten older and come to, um, understand romance in a more adult context, he could imagine plenty of horrible headlines that could really start them off on unfortunate footing. It’s not like footing was something something Marinette was exactly known for...

“Plagg - I got a question for you.” Adrien pondered, glancing over at the clock. They’ll need him again in another five minutes.

“Adrien, I swear to the stars,” his kwami mumbled. “If Paris isn’t on fire, I’ll cataclysm you.”

The teen smirked, though took a few steps back for good measure. “Can you even do that?”

“Do you really want to find out?” Plagg replied darkly, but lifted his head and met his stare with a half-lidded glare.

“Nope.” Adrien help up his hands. “Actually, I think I just figured out my answer. Go back to sleep, grumpy.”

His kwami did not need telling twice, and his head lowered beneath Adrien’s jacket again. Tiny snores came almost immediately.

Rolling his eyes, Adrien headed out the door and made his way back to the front of the studio. Despite Plagg’s bad attitude, he actually had answered Adrien’s question. All he had to do was ask for the kwami’s attention, and Plagg’s reaction was answer enough to know how the conversation would go.

Why not just do the same thing with Marinette? Not everything had to be a riddle or require a complicated plan. Adrien respected her too much to make assumptions on what she might feel.

By the time he was in front of the camera again, Adrien’s mood was bright again. Some of the set workers still occasionally whispered questions to him about Marinette, which made him blush more than once (each time, the photographer or makeup artist would yell in annoyance. Red cheeks were good for a winter ad, not one with floral backdrops). Aside from those interruptions, the remainder of the shoot passed without issue.

They were all dismissed just a bit few minutes after six, but by the time Adrien had finished changing and washing his face, he wasn’t in the car until quarter-til seven. Sinking comfortably into the seat, he finally sought out his phone. He had fifteen texts from the group chat, and from a separate, private conversation.

Marinette (3:11 PM):

Thanks for sharing, that was really sweet. And np - good luck!

You would think he would be tired of smiling after a photoshoot, but then, he was also lucky enough to have something to look forward to afterwards.

Thinking through a response, Adrien studied the streets as the car rolled by. Vermillion streaks of maroon velvet had begun to explode across the sky, rippling outwards against a swirling miasma of night that began to overtake Paris. Softening, the day was mending beneath the horizon as night came to reign again. It was both dark and luminous, all at once, reminding him of Marinette’s hair as it bounced down the sidewalk.

No, wait.

That was just her, walking home.

“Oh!” He blurted, shooting upright.

Nathalie jumped, and she turned to him sharply. “What is it? Are you alright?”

Adrien blushed, still staring at the window. They were stopped at a light, so Marinette just floated off towards the bakery, towards her home.

“Umm…” He glanced at Nathalie, who was staring at him with hard eyes, and his bodyguard, who was completely not reacting at all.

“Y-yes, I’m fine! It’s just, Marinette is right outside. Could we offer her a ride home?”

The two in the front met eyes, his father’s secretary pursing her lips, and they both glanced at the time on the dash.

“...Pull over,” Nathalie commanded, and the driver did just that at the first chance.

Adrien hastily thanked them and practically flung himself onto the sidewalk, running to catch up with her.

“Marinette! Mari!” Adrien called, speeding past a few alarmed pedestrians. Perhaps she had been examining her cellphone from within her purse, because her pigtails shot up at the call of her name, and she turned around.

“H-hey!” He greeted, stopping and panting in front of her from the sudden sprint. Marinette blinked, nonplussed, and shook her head.

“Adrien? What are you…?” She clasped her bag shut, but smiled as she spoke his name.

He tried to smile back, still slightly bent forward from his exertion. “I was just driving home from the photoshoot… we were stopped at the light,” he jerked over his thumb in the general direction of the car, and Marinette peered over his shoulder. “And I saw you walking. Did you just get out of work?”

Marinette covered her mouth to laugh lightly, and nodded. “Yes, and earlier than I hoped. That akuma scared away a lot of my customers.”

“Oh. Sure.” He rubbed his hands together anxiously, not sure what to say to that.

Silence came thereafter, but it wasn’t awkward. Marinette was just radiant, both physically and by way of her presence alone. She seemed to diffuse happiness into the air itself, and Adrien drank it all in.

It was almost too much when her cheeks turned pink.

Adrien cleared his throat and gestured behind him. “Did you want a ride home? We could take you.”

Marinette’s mouth fell open slightly, surprised. “O-oh, really? I would… I would love that, actually, if you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

He laughed and started to guide them back to the car. “Nah, it’s fine. You’re the only one who attracts trouble, after all.”

Adrien leaned down and grabbed the door, opening it for her. Marinette scrunched her nose, always acting sort of flustered when he would try to behave chivalrously.

Quietly, before stepping in, her blue eyes sparkled. “Should I start calling you trouble, then?”

Marinette closed the door for herself, smiling proudly at what was probably his stunned expression. He was still working through the joke by the time she was buckled in, and he had to scramble around street-side to get in, blushing and grinning at her all the while.

Beside the goofy glimpses they shared on the way back to the bakery, sticking their tongues out or winking dramatically, trying to fight the urge to laugh, the actual conversation remained perfectly cordial. Marinette asked Nathalie how she was doing, and apologized for her mother’s insistence the other day (Adrien guessed she heard it all second-hand from Sabine and Tom once she got home), and she and Adrien spoke about their days.

Well, besides the whole turning into Chat Noir and protecting Paris for almost two hours. He decided to leave that part out.

Towards the end of the ride, Marinette began to bounce lightly against the lush seats, brightening as she retrieved her cell phone. “Your text was really nice, b-by the way. I love Bouvardia, they’re the flower of enthusiasm!”

“I’m glad,” Adrien responded with a smile “I like how enthusiastic you get when you talk about all flowers, so this is like, enthusiasm about enthusiasm.”

“Meta-enthusiasm,” Marinette closed her eyes and nodded solemnly, peeking through a lid and catching his eye. They both grinned and snickered quietly.

“Yeah,” he said with a small, contented sigh as he gazed at the streets. They were very near to her house now. “I always think of you when I see flowers anymore. I hope that’s not weird,”

he tagged on the last part hastily, hoping she didn’t see the color fill his cheeks.

“The shop is like, one of my favorite places in the city.”

Marinette’s smile reached her eyes, and she too was looking out the window. The lights of street lamps that hit her face in a sort of constant flutter. It made her look almost angelic.

“Mine, too,” she commented, voice soft.

They pulled to a stop just outside of the bakery, and he could see Tom inside with a broom, sweeping the front of the store.

“Well…” Marinette said, rubbing her hands on her jeans. She looked nervous, which only made her even more adorable.

Adrien turned to her and tried for some confidence, very aware of the adults in the car and her father fifteen feet away in the building. “I’ll see you tomorrow, after you get off of work?”

Ducking her head, Marinette nodded vigoriously and started to get out the door. She paused halfway through and looked back inside the car.

“Thank you, Adrien, for taking me home. And thank you, Mme. Sancouer and, um, Adrien’s driver.”

“You’re welcome,” Nathalie said, keeping her eyes forward.

Adrien scooted down the seat slightly, leaning towards her. If only he could tell her how beautiful she looked right now, hair framing her face and eyes wide, turned up in kindness.

“Can I... call you again tonight?” He managed shyly.

Adrien lost a bit of his will power when she beamed at him, causing her freckles dancing under the light of the moon. He reached for her hand resting on the open door and, as gently as he could, kissed her knuckles. Glancing up, Adrien hoped the action spoke the word he was too embarrassed to say aloud.

Please?

Her own gaze looked only surprised, but if he didn’t know better, her skin had darkened from the gesture. A tiny bit smug, Adrien thought she looked much less offended than when Monseiur Delcair kissed her hand a week ago.

“I- I, yes. Yes.” She nodded and gave his fingers a light squeeze before pulling away. “I would like you very much. I-I mean, I would like that very much! I’m, I’ll… uh, see you!” Quickly, she waved and tagged on a squeaky “‘Bye!”

The door closed firmly and he watched her scurry up to the door, nearly colliding with the frame on her way inside.

Night proper had settled across Paris, dark and enigmatic, yet the city of love had never seemed so bright. Adrien felt like he was dreaming already, and he when he arrived home after mercifully little questioning from Nathalie, he had never wanted to sleep so readily. The next day, he would take Marinette on their first date, and the hours could not pass fast enough.