#and marinette sees him as more than a celebrity crush

[staab]

Prom night conversations

[kaileedraws]

Simply Miraculous Love Square Headcanons!

Shehfiifoekdjfjr okok besides accidentally making Chat Noir too hot, here is our lovely love square! I figured out how to create a plot that incorporates every single combination. Here are brief points describing each pair!

Ladybug x Adrien

Ladybug initially meets Adrien by saving his life a few times and bumping into him accidentally. Because she is just as awkward as Marinette is, she doesn’t initially strike up a friendship

Later she goes to him to ask him questions she thinks only he can answer - how to deal with being a celebrity (ex: the oversexualization, invasion of privacy, etc.)

Obviously they both have a crush on each other - Marinette likes Adrien and Adrien likes Ladybug - but I can see Ladybug stopping any progression of a relationship to keep Adrien safe.

If they both confessed their feelings to each other, things could become messy because Marinette would realize Adrien loves Ladybug and not “her,” and Adrien would realize that Ladybug loves Adrien and not Chat Noir. This might cause adverse outcomes

I could see interactions between them being either very awkward or randomly wholesome if they shared their issues with each other

Marinette x Chat Noir

Screaming because this ship is lowkey growing on me

Best friend dynamic - but also comfort/hurt trope. They’re there for each other through each of their heartbreaks and relationship troubles.

Chat Noir is very protective of Marinette

In their hurt/rejection, I can kind of see them seeking romance/comfort with each other

Could turn into a situationship/rebound - but like Ladybug with Adrien, Chat Noir would shut down any prospects of a relationship for her safety and because he can’t share his true identity with her (like in canon)

Interactions with Marinette and learning about her on a deeper level (without her spluttering her words) could lead Chat Noir/Adrien to develop feelings for Marinette - and perhaps vice versa for Marinette

I’m seeing a lot of angst/emotion with this one

Adrien x Marinette

The classic

Eventually happens after a lot of turbulence and other relationships, like in canon

Adrien may or may not have sexual trauma from Chloe and the fashion industry, so he may be uncomfortable/disassociate during these moments with Marinette. A relationship with her could help him heal, as she would show him how a relationship should be and the innocent aspect of it (it’s giving Astarion romance in Baulder’s Gate 3 vibes)

When they discover they both have secrets they are keeping from one another, this would trigger Marinette’s anxiety and possibly Adrien’s. Mistrust might develop

Like with Luka, Marinette has the high chance of breaking things off with Adrien because she thinks he deserves better than her and she hates keeping her secret from him

Ladybug x Chat Noir

Chat Noir is Mr. Flirty flirt and Charisma until Ladybug flirts back, then he melts like butter

Simp Noir exe has stopped working

Thinking this ship might be the end-all-be-all because they are the only people who know their deepest secret - and although they don’t know their real names, they don’t have to hide non-specific details about themselves

Once Ladybug has feelings, she is a lot more confident to tease Chat Noir because she thinks it’s funny/satisfying to watch his demeanor change and his braincells stop working

Ladybug, if in a relationship, would probably be strict about PDA and keeping things secret between them so that Hawkmoth can’t use it against them

Anyway, why the fuuuuuu did I make him so fine whyyyytt

AGHSJDIIEOEKDKE

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

What are your opinions on more „popular“ salt takes about Adrien and Mari, like the typical „Adrichat is an ass for for flirting with LB after she rejects him“ and „Maribug us a horrible stalker“?

Well, I'd be lying if I said that I have no idea where they're coming from. There are definitely times when I'll watch an episode and wonder what in the world the writers are trying to do, especially when it comes to Adrien's behavior as it's played a lot more straight than Marinette's. While I don't like her behavior at times, it's almost always treated as a joke, not a dramatic character beat whereas I cannot say the same for Adrien.

But these are characters in a TV show, not real people and we need to keep that in mind when judging them. It's why my go-to thought is "what is wrong with the writing staff" and not "Adrien is an incel." Because Adrien is very clearly not supposed to be an incel. Unless the writers are plotting something truly asinine, the Love Square is our end game couple. We are supposed to view Adrien as a charming and funny romantic lead. When he falls short of that role, it's not Adrien "showing his true colors." He's a fictional character. He has no true colors. If his actions and words are ever unbecoming for a romantic lead, it's because the writers are failing to write Adrien the way they want us to see him.

They consistently do this to all of the characters. Alya's supposed to be an awesome friend and a smart journalist (I think), but she can't see through Lila's BS. Marinette's parents are supposed to be loving and supportive, but they randomly believed that their daughter stole from their bakery to make a dress and didn't even try to let her explain herself. Nino is supposed to be the Chosen of Protection, but he didn't care to protect his best friend and just happily sent Gabriel on a rampage without a second thought.

Give me a character and I can point to a bunch of episodes that justify every salty take this fandom has because they're not pulling this stuff from thin air. They're picking and choosing the worst writing in the show and venting about it, which is frankly understandable. Like I get why there are so many Alya salt fics. Her writing in the Lila episodes is infuriating and I do find those fics a little cathartic at times. But it's really, really obvious that she's not supposed to be a terrible friend. She's a victim of the writers drawing the Lila plot line out for far too long and making Lila's lies far too obvious.

Similarly, a lot of the issues with Adrien and Marinette stem from the fact that you simply can't draw a romance plot out for five seasons without causing issues unless you make the romance a background plot. But they didn't do that. The love square is front and center for most episodes, but since it can't actually resolve, the writers keep adding drama that makes our leads feel horribly unhealthy.

On the Marinette side, her not being able to talk to Adrien was fine as an initial issue, but we are five seasons into this show. Over 100 episodes! You reach a point where it stops being cute and starts being concerning. It's also not helped by the fact that Marinette's crush is written like a celebrity crush and not a crush on someone she actually knows. Daily exposure to Adrien should mellow her out. Especially since he's supposed to be her friend! But if the writers let Marinette talk to Adrien, then they'd grow closer and might feel like they had to get together, so they couldn't let that. Thus Marinette being a disaster for four seasons and the terrible shoehorned plot to try and justify it in season five.

On the Adrien side, they let Chat Noir confess too soon. Prior to that, the Ladynoir relationship was a playful one where it was feasible that Ladybug just viewed her kitty as a massive flirt. This was especially true since he flirts with everyone. But once she knew that he was serious? The playfulness vanished and Chat Noir started coming across as entitled and pushy. It didn't help that they had him ignoring her preferences ("Don't call me Bugaboo") and getting them in trouble by not taking his job seriously (his flirting getting them hit in Oblivio).

In summary, the love square should have been resolved much sooner or been relegated to a b plot that got far less attention. I also would have reversed the square since it makes for a far more interesting story that you can organically draw out longer, but that's just me. I don't have any issue with people ignoring the canon problems and just writing Adrien and Marinette as the cute couple that they were obviously intended to be. I also enjoy fics that treat Adrien's pushiness as a character flaw that can be resolved because that's what canon should have done. His issues aren't the mark of a terrible person. They're the understandable flaws of a teenager who is in love for the first time and doesn't know how to express himself. If a show would actually address this kind of common tween/teen issue, then a lot of kids would get an incredibly valuable lesson that would help them when they grow up and fall in love. If you're ever watching Miraculous with a kid, I strongly encourage you to approach Adrien's character from that perspective. Talk about why his actions are understandable, but ultimately wrong and more likely to push someone away than win their heart just like we see with Ladybug.

[unsupervised-meatsuit]

Inconveniences, Cultists, and the Warehouse of Rejected Toys

Cross posted on AO3!

If there was one thought that Marinette could attribute to describe the entirety of this situation, it would be that Thursdays suck.

It is not the most commonly hated day of the week, since that dubious honor belongs to Monday, for rather obvious reasons. Since it is so universally hated, however, it never comes as a surprise when the bad things come out to play. Oh, there was a fire in the office next door over the weekend, and now the air conditioning smells like burnt rubber and brick dust? That's just Monday for you. A villain attack in the warehouse district caused a shipping delay and that package you ordered got lost somewhere? Disappointing, yet unsurprising. The subway is so packed that a sardine tin would be spacious in comparison? Well, that's the subway every day, so it doesn't really count.

Tuesdays and Wednesdays are just that, days. Nothing exciting, nothing awful. Middle of the line, going through the motions, monotonous. Whether trudging through or in the zone, things get done and nothing exciting happens. Fridays are, of course, celebrated as the finish line, the checkpoint in the marathon of life that says 'you made it! You can take a rest now'. The final stretch before the glorious work-free weekend. The one where you can go home with the comfort of knowing there are no alarms coinciding with dawns break, just waiting to sneak up on you too soon. No annoying coworkers waiting with their metaphorical talons and too-cheerful-to-be-real attitudes, ready to interrupt your flow at the worst possible moment. Fridays are the tantalizing breath of freedom, just awaiting for the clock to strike.

But Thursdays? Thursdays are the worst.

They are the day you always forget. The one that sneaks up on you, where you wake up with the inkling of hope and relief that the end brings, only to have the crushing realization that it is not, in fact, Friday. Like seeing a finish line on the crest of a hill in front of you, only to watch as the closer you get the further away it seems. The one where you cram every ounce of procrastinated effort into the projects you have been putting off until right before the deadline, wishing for nothing more than an IV drip of straight espresso into your veins, followed by a three century long nap.

The day where you get kidnapped by an evil cult and strung up from the ceiling next to an unconscious vigilante, simply for the crime of being a nice person in Gotham.

Or maybe that is just Marinette.

'Embodiment of good luck and creation my ass,' she thought bitterly, rope digging painfully into her elbows and just below her ribs. 'Oh yea, let's go to Gotham. The city is unbalanced and needs a Guardian to fix all of the curses. That is such a great idea. Nothing bad will happen! Well what do you call this then, Tikki?!' Marinette sighed, the feeling of pins and needles creeping down towards her bound wrists as she swung precariously some twenty-five odd feet above the concrete warehouse floor, trying to ignore the worry she felt being separated from the little deity. Beside her was none other than Red Hood; former(maybe? she's not sure) crime lord, gunslinging vigilante, and too freaking heavy for his own good. Seriously, for someone who uses firearms almost exclusively, there is no reason for him to be so damn muscular. Or tall. Completely unfair for someone to hog all the height like that. It's what got them into this whole mess to begin with!

Well- That wasn't entirely true, but still. If he didn't weigh so much, Marinette could have easily grabbed him and run from the masked, potato-sack-wearing, nonsense-spewing, second rate fanatic occultists before they even knew she was there. But no, Red Hood just had to be the size and weight of a small bear, and now they were both in this mess.

"I should have never gotten out of bed this morning..." She muttered despondently, hearing a groan come from the limp figure beside her.

"Son of a bitch..." Red Hood murmured, voice changer in his helmet distorting the words to be near incomprehensible. The following string of curses as he presumably opened his eyes and took in their predicament was much more audible, however. Looking down, Marinette couldn't even begrudge him the swearing.

The two of them were currently hanging from a catwalk suspended in between two of the six total concrete pillars and directly above where the aforementioned potato-sack-wearing cultists were busy drawing out chalk guidelines for some kind of complex ritual circle. She couldn't quite make out what it was meant to be yet, seeing as it was in the early stages, but she could assume that it wasn't anything good for their would-be sacrifices. They were really dedicated, too, not even glancing up at the vigilante that was giving his best impression of an angry drenched cat. One of them even had a protractor and was double checking all of the angles in the twelve pointed star. Clearly, whatever this ritual was meant to be, it was going to take a while to complete.

Red Hood clearly didn't appreciate the attention to detail, which honestly? Fair. But the way he showed his displeasure at the situation involved thrashing around in the cocoon of thick chains wrapped securely around his whole body. (Marinette was only a little bit jealous at the differing treatment, since if she had more than a single rope wrapped around her torso, it wouldn't hurt nearly as much, but also it would make escape harder.) The thrashing wouldn't bother her if it weren't for the fact that A) they were both tied to a rickety catwalk, and B) every time there was movement on said rickety catwalk, it caused Marinette to bounce around and dug into the already forming bruises on her arms and abdomen.

"Hey, could you cut that out?!" She snapped, wincing in pain. Her voice caused Red Hood to whip his head in her direction and freeze, "You aren't the only one here strung up like a pinata, and unlike you, I'm not wearing any armor. I would personally rather not be split in half and spew my intestines all over the place like a macabre birthday celebration, thanks!" There were several long moments of silence while he stared at her and she attempted to alleviate some of the pressure of the rope. She was unsuccessful, sadly, but at least she was no longer bouncing. After a few moments, the swearing started up again, much more vehement than the last time, though without the accompanying thrashing, thankfully.

Marinette huffed, turning her attention to the warehouse below, allowing him to get it out of his system. It was very clearly disused and permeated with the smell of dust, but not quite abandoned as she would expect. Various sizes of wooden crates were scattered and stacked all around the stained brick walls along with stacks of empty pallets and cardboard boxes. The center of the large building was a two stories tall square, held up by four concrete pillars fading into darkness and broken windows. The empty space was only broken by the catwalks that were claustrophobically close to the exposed, rusty rafters, and a disused... crane thingy on an I shaped track above the two truck-sized doors to the right. In front of and behind them were what she guessed to be offices with windows that overlooked the main floor and connected to the catwalks through discrete side doors. The bottom floor continued underneath the offices where there were stairs resting against the back wall, though they were barely visible through the deep shadows and pallets of stacked boxes.

Directly underneath them, the cultists had cleared out a large area and hung up bright florescent floodlights that cast stark shadows pointing down towards their try-hard craft project. They had a cheap table set up to the side covered in candles, chalk, various liquids, jars, and bowls of different white powders, which Marinette guessed was salt or bone dust or something of the sort. Oh, and rumbling minifridge full of blood bags. There was that, too.

"-toe-eyed shit monkey fuck-tard motherfucking piece of-" Red Hood was still going, but seemed to be somewhat running out of steam. Or different ways to say the same swear words. Or maybe breath, Marinette wasn't quite sure yet.

Down below, the cultists remained focused on their ritual. Or, at least most of them did. Only about four total were actually doing any drawing or plotting out, with exactly twelve seated a little ways away from the star's points, all meditating. There were three more that Marinette could see, and from what she could tell, they weren't very focused on anything work related, if the one holding the weird, green-haired doll was any indication.

Marinette squinted in concentration, calling on her connection with the Kwami to sharpen her senses and hear past the still-swearing Red Hood.

"-whole box full of the creepy little things." The one holding the doll said, her voice disdainful. I hereby name you Dolly, Marinette thought, eyes flicking to the medium sized crate she had pulled the doll from. It had some kind of toy company logo on it, though not one that she recognized.

"Why would you even go looking through those?" the other cultist asked, somewhat judgmentally. And I hereby name you Judgy.

"I was bored." Dolly replied flatly, inspecting the green haired doll in her hands.

"Aren't you supposed to be watching the sacrifices?" Marinette squinted, tensing slightly despite the flare of burning pain it caused, but the cultists didn't even bother looking in their direction.

"No, that is Mark and Jacob's job." She waved dismissively, not glancing up from the doll. 

"Ah." He paused for a moment, before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Who thought it was a good idea to put those two together?"

"No clue. Better them than me, though. I hate watching sacrifices. They always cry and yell at me, or try to beg their way out. It is so annoying. I'd rather just be bored." Judgy nodded in agreement, shifting his weight and crossing his arms. Marinette couldn't help but scoff quietly. As if.

"Well, at least you get to look through dusty crates and find creepy dolls this time." They both stared at the doll for a few moments as Dolly scoffed.

"Yeah, and that totally makes up for the fact that we are a day early. I had to call out of work for this shit." She said sending a small glare at the cultist with the red trim decorating their burlap 'robe' before looking back at the doll. Dolly turned the thing over in her hands before finding something on the back of it. "Oh hey, there is a switch here." 

Marinette could barely hear a tiny click as the switch flipped and the two went quiet as they waited for it to do something. Dolly shook it, but got no response aside from the sounds of chalk scraping concrete, plastic rulers clattering, the constant drone of the minifridge, and the sound of moving cultists that overlayed the faraway screeches and honks of the city outside the warehouse walls. The two(plus Marinette) waited to see what the doll would do for several more moments to no avail.

"Does it need batteries or something?" Judgy asked. Dolly opened her mouth to reply, but didn't get the chance as the doll's eyes lit up and laughed, long and loud, to the cadence of Judgy's voice. It was unsettling, and very clearly reminiscent of a certain clown. The way it echoed around the warehouse amplified the creepiness. It was somewhat comical how Dolly jumped and scrambled to flip the switch back off as almost everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their heads towards her in unison, though. Or, well, it would be if it weren't for the fact that these people had strung her from the ceiling up and were waiting to sacrifice her to whatever entity they worshipped.

Marinette was jolted out of her concentration by a throat being cleared, and her head snapped towards the source. Beside her, Red Hood was looking in her direction(or at her, it was hard to tell with the helmet) and very clearly no longer swearing.

"You done, now?" She sassed, glancing back at the cultists she was so rudely interrupted from eavesdropping on. Dolly and Judgy were looking sheepish(as much as one could look sheepish, wearing *that*) as most of the others glared at them(presumably). The one with the red trim on their potato sack seemed to be scolding them, and about half of the ones sitting at the star's points weren't looking, continuing to meditate unbothered after the initial interruption. Interesting.

"Yeah. Sorry about that." Red Hood said, sounding somewhat uncomfortable, though it was difficult to tell through the voice changer. Marinette didn't look back at him, scanning the warehouse for the two that were supposed to be watching them.

"No, it's fine. Not everyone can be cool under pressure." She said smoothly, squinting into the deep shadows on the ground floor, sharpening her vision with as much of her magic as she dared, though there weren't any people hiding that she could see. They will be somewhere that they can easily see us, but won't have to pay much attention...

"Excuse me?" He asked, taken aback. Marinette began scanning the catwalks above them, craning her neck and analyzing them for hiding spots. Or rather, for comfortable areas to hang out and pretend to be working. Clearly, these cultists have gotten too used to their routine. Which is a bad sign for all the previous sacrifices, but good for us.

"I mean, it's not every day that you get kidnapped and hung from the ceiling, so your reaction is understandable." She turned her head to the vigilante after determining that the lookouts were not visible, who was looking at her, the feeling of incredulity coming through loud and clear.  "Though I would have expected you to be a bit more used to this kind of thing." She spoke with a note of scorn in her voice. He was the one to lead the cultists outside her apartment in the first place. She was just trying to take out the trash when he flopped over unconscious right in front of her. And Red Hood was unnecessarily heavy. And muscular. And well proportioned. And tall. Is that a tailored leather jacket? It looks well made, even through the chains. He would make a great model, honestly. Broad shoulders, long legs, nice chest- Gah! No! Focus!

"Wh- it-, no I am not used to waking up chained to the ceiling." He said with a growl in his voice that she could almost feel in her chest. Marinette suppressed a slight shiver. Why do warehouses always have drafts?

"Really? Huh." She said absently, looking around the grimy and broken windows that lined the upper wall above the truck doors. Unloading dock, I think it's called?  "I got the impression that Gothamites were unfazed by stuff like this." Beside her, Red Hood scoffed, head turning to look below them and presumably analyze the cultists.

"Being kidnapped, sure. Happens all the time. Sometimes, it's even on purpose. Being tied to the ceiling, not so much." The obnoxious red helmet ticked to the side, eyeing her presumably. "What, is this normal where you come from?" From the small huff she could tell the question was clearly meant to be rhetorical, but Marinette answered it anyway.

"Eh, it's not my first time." she looked down at the ritual circle and 'bored' cultists who were completely ignoring the two, having opened up another box filled with what seemed to be... bags of gumballs? Interesting..  "At least it's just cultists and there is no swimming pool full of boiling soup." Marinette shifted, attempting to regain feeling in her fingers without putting her full weight on her bruised ribs. She had never wished to be transformed more than she did right now. Heck, she would even take the old onesie she used to call a superhero suit. She really did feel like she was about to be split in half. "Though whoever tied this rope did a much worse job than Kung Food." She said with a grimace, rocking from side to side and scooching the rope downwards a little bit. It stung, and the balance was a little more precarious now, and she just knew it was going to be hell on her back and core muscles, but at least it didn't hurt as much, so she took that as a win.

"... please tell me you are joking." Red Hood asked with a note of desperation in his voice. She grimaced, thinking back to the wafting steam and the smell of the since renamed 'Marinette Soup'.

"I wish I was." Marinette said, resigned. The thought was sweet in theory but thinking back, having a soup that you almost got cooked into renamed after you is pretty morbid.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He muttered with what she could only assume was mild distress. She knew the feeling.

"It's fine." She said, stretching out her fingers that wanted nothing more to curl in on themselves from the lack of blood flow. Marinette twisted her wrists and reached her hands in a way that just barely let her nails latch onto the poorly tied knot of the hemp rope. Seriously? This is just sad. I don't even need help from the Kwami to get out of this.

"It is very much fucking not." Red hood said pointedly while, assumedly, pinning her with a glare. Not that I can exactly go anywhere yet, anyway.

"I would shrug if I could, but as you can see, I am physically disinclined to do so." She looked at him with a sardonic smile, vaguely gesturing with her head at their general predicament. Eyes unfocusing, she concentrated on the feeling of the rope latched underneath her fingernails and started pulling at it.

"Could you be any more nonchalant about this? That is supposed to be my job." The deadpan response so monotone it sounded nearly robotic through the voice changer caused her to let out a small huff of a laugh. Ow, that hurt. Come on, you stupid rope, work with me here!

"Would you rather I be freaking out, screaming and crying about how we are going to die tragically?" She asked, pulling a face as one of her hands started cramping from the curled position. Ow ow ow ow-

"Absolutely not." Hood said without hesitation. So close... YES!

"Then I don't see what you have to be complaining about here." Marinette smiled triumphantly as she finally felt the rope around her wrists loosen, stretching the discomfort away as much as she could. Red Hood was silent for several long moments as she took in a few deep breaths, attempting to shake the few strands of hair that had escaped her high bun out of her face. Okay, wrists are free. Next are the ankles, then I can slip out of the rope and climb up onto the catwalk without falling to my death/serious injury in the process. Easy peasy. I just need to-

"You are something else, you know that?" He said in a tone that she didn't quite know how to name, distorted as it was. Marinette paused before she could start to move onto the next step, looking into the expressionless helmet of Red Hood that somehow still failed to hide that she had his full attention. She blinked several times, confused. "I don't think I have ever seen such a pretty smile, especially not in a situation like this." He clarified. Marinette couldn't stop the pink rising to her cheeks, and she had absolutely no idea what to do about the sudden flutter in her chest, but what she did know was that this hot vigilante/crime-lord had just(maybe?) given her what sounded like a compliment, and she needed to say something.

"Why thank you. You aren't too shabby yourself." Marinette said, realizing as soon as the words left her that her automatic response might have not made sense.

"... Thanks?" Red Hood said, tilting his head slightly. And then Marinette opened her stupid, stupid face hole.

"I mean- you have quite the impressive mouth on you." She said, followed by a long moment of silence as he stared at her. "WAIT- NO! I didn't mean that! I meant- well- I didn't not meant that, I'm sure your mouth is just fine- but not like fine fine, or it could be, I'm not saying it isn't, it's just with the whole bucket-head thing I can't tell either way so like- I'm not commenting on how nice your mouth is- I just- What I am trying to say is that your ability to use your mouth is what is impressive." The vigilante made a faint choking noise, and Marinette had approximately the half a second it took for her to register what she just said before wishing that she could cataclysm herself in the face. "NO! WAIT! NO! That's not what I meant! It was- talking- using mouth, but not like-" she started sputtering, words tumbling out of her without control, and the faint choking noise coming from Red Hood turned into full blown coughing.  "SWEAR WORDS!" She finally shouted, face bright red and a shrill note in her panicked voice echoing faintly through the warehouse. None of the cultists so much as looked up, clearly ignoring them, for which she was thankful. Oh my Kwami, kill me. Please. Right now. Strike me down without remorse.

Red Hood was gasping for air beside her in between wheezing laughter and coughs that rattled the catwalk above. Marinette honestly couldn't remember a time she had ever been more embarrassed. Not even in Lycée. Honestly, if Hawkmoth were still around, she might be in danger of being akumatized out of pure embarrassment. A high pitched whine escaped from the back of her throat as she glared at the vigilante, trying to hide her misery behind anger.

"Don't laugh at me!" She tried to sound intimidating, but it came out more petulant.

"Fuckin'," he said in between wheezes, "swear words!" If he were standing, rather than hanging, Red Hood would undoubtably be doubled over in laughter. As it was, he was curled up in the air in the shape of an unnecessarily beefy shrimp. Marinette was just thankful that he wasn't looking at her, or she might just explode. In an effort to distract herself, she quickly kicked her legs up behind her and began untying the rope around her ankles, putting her focus into remaining balanced rather than the laughter beside her. Unfortunately, it only took a few seconds and a couple precarious wobbles to free her legs, leaving the loop around her torso and the two free strands in her hand. Oh, and the Red Hood who was taking in deep breaths like it was an Olympic sport.

"I will fight you." She said, something burning in her chest as she glared at him.

"You're adorable." he said, getting his laughter under control.

"I will fight you, and I will win." Her scowl deepened as she glared into the lenses of his helmet.

"I appreciate the threat," he quipped back, voice filled with mirth, "but no offense, you look about as dangerous as a feather duster." Face still bright red and heart still pounding painfully, Marinette's eyes narrowed. Then, she smiled sweetly.

"I take full offense and I will make you eat those words." She said with the full confidence of a Ladybug.

"Uh huh. And how exactly are you going to do that?" Hood said teasingly, sounding as if he were just entertaining her. Her only response was to grin toothily, tip forward, and then fall.

Marinette allowed the precarious balance she had carefully kept for the past however-long it had been to fail and slide through the single loop of rope. The friction of the rough hemp fibers burned as it scraped along her arms, but it was worth it to hear his panicked gasp and the rattle of chains as her bent knees caught the rope(ow- that'll bruise), the only thing keeping her from plummeting two stories. She swung back and forth a couple times, building momentum as she allowed her muscles to relax for the first time since she got kidnapped and Red Hood hissed out something unintelligible from above her. With one last swing and a flex of her poor, abused core muscles, she sat up and grabbed the rope, climbing her way onto the catwalk with little trouble. She let out a small sigh of relief at finally having semi-solid ground underneath her feet. She hasn't exactly been afraid of heights since before her time as a superhero, but being in the air for so long get stressful, especially without her transformation.

"What the hell were you thinking- Are you okay?!" He asked somewhat frantically, the catwalk under her feet swaying as he twisted in an attempt to look up at her. No. That fucking hurt. She smiled before replying cheerfully.

"Of course I am! What, worried for my little feather duster arms?" She dropped the two rope pieces on the catwalk and then reached up to undo her bun which had become tragically loose from the kidnapping.

"Oh, ha ha." he muttered with a sigh of mild relief, "Point made. Okay, so it looks like there is an exit near the stairs which you can go through those offices to get to. It is really dark, so if you are careful and stick to the shadows, you should be able to get out and find a way to call Commissioner Gordon and tell him to-"

"Nope." She interrupted curtly, holding her hair-tie in between her teeth and running her fingers through her hair a couple times.

"-What?" Red Hood asked, tensing. Marinette grabbed the hair-tie before responding.

"I said no, I am not going to do that." She took a deep breath, shaking her head side to side to test the security of her new high ponytail. Good enough. "First of all, you weren't awake when they brought us in here, but those doors sound like hell itself trying to escape into the mortal realm via rusty hinges, meaning there is no way that I can get out without being noticed." Hood grunted disgruntledly, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Marinette took the opportunity too look over everything from this new vantage point, now just barely able to see into the dirty windows of the offices behind them, one of which had faint light coming from within.

"There are other doors and windows, you could find a way out." he said pointedly, head turning briefly to glance at the rope she had been hanging from previously. She couldn't quite see any movement in them, but the farthest one had a broken window, so she could only assume that the office with the light was where Jacob and Mark were.

"Second of all," she continued, "there are two cultists who are meant to be watching us, and no matter how negligent they are, they still managed to catch you. From what I have overheard, they have done this enough to have a solid routine, so they can't be all stupid. If I were to leave, we would only have a limited amount of time before they noticed." Down below, Dolly and Judgy seemed to have gotten bored of looking through crates and were both hovering over a phone while leaning against the foldout table, watching something. The third cultist that appeared to be on watch had tucked themself into a dark corner and seemed to be taking a nap against a pillar. Perfect, let's hope they stay like that.

"You would still have time to get away and call for help. The streets are a maze, they wouldn't be able to find you once you got away." Red Hood said with a light growl. Marinette could feel the catwalk move underfoot as he shifted slightly, swaying back and forth like a cranky pendulum. Her eyes flicked to each of the cultists down below, all looking consumed by their respective tasks.

"Yes, however, the chances of them just continuing with their ritual and ignoring the missing sacrifice are not great. They could panic and scatter, rush through and sacrifice you with a half done ritual, or any other not great outcome. So again, a time limit. Which brings me to point number three," She said, holing up three fingers. "We are currently in the warehouse district, which is a forever-and-a-mile walk away from anywhere I could find someone willing to lend me a phone. Even if I were to walk right out of here and they don't notice, they would have plenty of time to finish up their evil scheme and get the heck out of dodge before help arrives."

"Drive, then." Hood shot back. Marinette held back a wince, her eye twitching instead, thinking about the last time she drove a car. Or, tried to drive a car.

Marinette and Grandma Gina looked into the turbulent lake, drenched and covered in mud, listening to the slowly approaching sirens, smelling of burnt rubber and smoke. The previous panic fueled screaming echoed in her ears now that it was silent. Her Nona turned to her, pale and somewhat shaky, but with a smile on her face.

"I won't tell your parents if you don't."

"Deal."

"Do I look like I know how to hotwire a car? Or how to pick pocket someone's keys?" She asked rhetorically, already knowing what he thought she looked like. 'Adorable.' 

I'll show him 'Adorable.'

"Then," he said slowly, posture wary and tone frustrated, "What exactly are you going to do?"

"I already told you." Marinette replied, leaning down and looking directly into the glowing eyes of the Red Hood's helmet with a smile, "I am going to make you eat your words." Marinette didn't allow him to respond, standing in one swift motion and walking quietly across the rickety metal and towards the open archway of the offices behind them. 

Time to get to work.

Marinette was careful to keep her steps light an even, hand ghosting over the steel cable railing that ran along the side as she made her way towards the office with the intact, if filthy, window. She was fairly confident that was where the two cultists that were meant to be watching them, Mark and Jacob from what Dolly said, were hiding based off of process of elimination. Once she took them out, she could take her time with the rest since it will be less likely that they will notice her missing. With how adamant these cultists were about not looking up, she could almost think they were video game characters. The time she had spent hanging from that damn rope wasn't completely wasted, as she was able to put together the beginnings of a plan for how to do that without outing her superhero abilities or skills. Sure, what she had said to Red Hood wasn't *completely* truthful, as she was certain she could find a phone and call for help in ten minutes if she really wanted to, but...

"-no offense, you look about as dangerous as a feather duster."

That's not happening. She had something to prove.

Okay, so steps. She thought as she reached the wall of the office and creeping towards the window in a crouch, trusting the darkness and the cultists inattentiveness to hide her. First, take out the lookouts.

Marinette looked over her shoulder and out into the shadowed building, finding the darkest place from the perspective of the window and shifting herself into that space before slowly lifting her eyes over the dusty window ledge. Her gaze flicked quickly through the room, dimly lit by a small camping lantern on an old desk situated just in front of the door with a chair on either side. On the opposite wall was a couch where the two cultists were-

Marinette jerked downwards, flattening herself against the filthy brick wall with a newly bright red face. That was a lot of- Where did they get the- Okay! Not thinking about that! That's fine. This is fine.

…

"At least they won't notice I'm missing..." She took in several deep breaths, staring intently at the patterns of rust on the catwalk's railing. 

"I am never going to unsee that."

After a few long moments, Marinette crept her way around the edge of the office, through the arch and into the hallway. The door to the office the cultists were in was closed, *thank the Kwami*, but the empty one was cracked open. The stairs downward were straight ahead, swathed in darkness and shadows. There was less echo, and it was in general quieter in the hallway except for faint- not thinking about it. 

"Step one, focus on step one." She whispered to herself, straightening up and slipping through the cracked door into the empty office, careful not to catch her clothes on the door handle. This office wasn't as empty as the other one, and seemed to be much more dusty, though that might be attributed to the broken window more than anything. There was a desk in this one as well, though it was pushed against the wall on the far side with paper scattered all over the floor on front of it. Instead of a couch(Not thinking about it), this one had a stack of chairs, a duffle bag, and a hefty looking toolbox. Dumped dead center in the room was a frankly ridiculous pile of guns, knives, and what looked like a miniature version of a harpoon. In a much smaller pile next to it was her purse.

"Tikki!" She whisper-shouted, diving forward and scooping up the bag.

"Marinette!" the small Kwami excitedly yelled back, muffled through the fabric. Once it was opened, she whizzed through the air to hug her holder's cheek.

"Are you okay? Did anyone see you? It's not another Chloe situation, is it?" She blabbed with worry until the Kwami pulled back and smiled reassuringly.

"No. I'm okay, no one saw me." Marinette let out a sigh of relief, slouching where she stood. "Are you okay, Marinette?"

"A little bruised, but fine." She replied, examining her arms for a moment to see what was going to be a line of ugly bruises and some serious rope burn, before turning back to her friend with manic energy. "But, Tikki, I have been challenged!"

"Challenged?" She echoed with a tilt of her head and a sparkle in her eye.

"Red Hood thinks that I am 'as dangerous as a feather duster' which is frankly ridiculous- just because I am small does not mean I am not mighty!" Marinette said with a pout and a defiantly raised fist, to which Tikki giggled.

"So what are you going to do to meet this challenge?" the little goddess asked, floating higher in excitement. In response, Marinette bounced on the balls of her feet with a near feral grin.

"Here's the plan-!"

"Hey, Oracle, have you heard anything from Hood tonight?" Nightwing asked as he swung between two of Bludhaven's buildings and away from a foiled break-in. He was still catching his breath from the quick but brutal fight. He managed to leave unscathed for the most part, barring one lucky hit the woman with a crowbar managed to get on his bicep that left a shallow, if jagged, gash and was already forming a nasty bruise. It was going to make his night job rather unpleasant the next week or so, which wasn't great, seeing as he and Red Hood were meant to bust up a cult that had had been causing trouble tomorrow.

"Last I herd from him, he was chasing you through the house with a serving plate." Came Oracle's quick reply, the sound of clacking keys hiding under her flippant and amused voice. Nightwing rolled his eyes with a fond smile as he alighted upon the edge of a building, taking a moment to sit down and rest.

"Oh, har har. He was supposed to be doing recon for our bust tomorrow, I want to make sure he hasn't gotten himself in trouble." He said, settling down and kicking a leg out over the edge of the roof.

"From what I heard," Red Robin chimed in, "There was no 'our' about it. Hood made it very clear that he was going to go after them without you."

"Mhm," Oracle hummed in agreement, "I distinctly remember something being said about 'forsaken bonds of siblinghood' and that you are 'beyond dead' to him." Nightwing remembered that. He had been so excited at Jason actually referring to them as family out loud that he hadn't really paid much attention to what was actually said beyond that until afterwards, though.

"Oh, please. He was just cranky because he was too slow and I got the last of Agent A's cookies." Nightwing said with an eye roll. "He wouldn't go after a dangerous cult by himself just because of that."

"Are you sure about that? This is Hood we are talking about." Red Robin said skeptically. Nightwing opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off.

"Chatter on comms." Came Batman's gruff voice, silencing everyone. "Oracle, check in with Hood."

"Already done. His comm is off and all of his trackers are showing that he is in his safehouse on the border of the Narrows." She replied promptly, there was a pause as more keys clacked in the background.

"His security system is armed, too, with a window having been opened and closed at around eight forty-seven pm and no activity since." The silence between them was loud as the vigilantes digested the information.

"I'm on my way." Nightwing said gravely as he sprung up from his spot and shot his grapple gun in the direction of his motorcycle.

"Enroute." Batman grunted over the sound of revving engine.

"I'll try and track down his location." Oracle said, her amusement from before gone.

After a few seconds, Red robin chimed in with a deadpan voice.

"Even after all these years, you still underestimate the pettiness of this family."

Nightwing's sigh was lost to the buffeting wind as he swung down to the streets below.

Locking the two lookouts in the office was probably the easiest step of any plan that Marinette has had in years, being able to check that off after simply sliding a chair underneath the handle in order to lock the two inside. Thank all the Kwami I don't actually have to go in there and interrupt whatever it is they are doing... Still not thinking about it!

The next step, while still relatively simple, wasn't going to be nearly as easy.

Step One: Take out the lookouts, Check. Step Two: Gather Supplies.

Which means finding supplies, which means sneaking past the 19 remaining cultists on the main floor without being caught or seen. Simple as can be, but not exactly easy. Add in pilfering through and opening the many crates, some right next to the main area for the cultists? Not easy in the slightest. Thankfully, Marinette wasn't exactly someone to give up that quickly, and she wasn't alone.

There was a quick glimmer of light that burst through the dim room and a tingling feeling in her fingers as the summoning spell completed, burning up the small sticky note she had drawn on and replacing it with the inert foxtail pendant, dark orange fading to a white tip separated by five segments, hanging off of a delicate gold chain. As she pulled on the necklace however, its appearance changed to be purely silver with the segments disappearing, the bright glow of another Kwami appearing before her flashing through the shadows.

"Guardian." the Kwami greeted, bowing respectfully in the air before looking around with his bright purple eyes, taking in the dirty office.

"Hello Trixx." Marinette responded with a smirk, "Ready to cause some mischief?" The Kwami's ears perked up as he smiled brightly.

"I always am, Guardian! What did you have in mind?" He responded eagerly, following Marinette as she crept to the cracked office window.

"Okay, down there are nineteen cultists who we need to take down before they manage to activate their ritual and sacrifice the vigilante who I got captured with." she began, pointing out the shifting shapes moving through the harsh brightness of the floodlights and Red Hood, who was mostly obscured by the rusty catwalks and shadows. "We are going to need to get them all at once, or else we will be caught, and I can't transform without revealing my identity."

"I am happy to lend my Illusions to keep you hidden from their senses until it is time to pounce!" Trixx said eagerly, twirling around in the air, illusory sparks dancing in between his paws.

"Thanks Trixx, but I will be channeling your magic this time, we don't want another dancing Eifel Tower incident." The Kwami pouted, but agreed, diving into the inside of her jacket and joining Tikki in the small pocket dimension sewn in there. Marinette took in a fortifying breath, strengthening her connection to the two Kwami and feeling the magic course through her. She *probably* pull this off without it, but there was no way that she was going to let any opportunity pass her by. She promised Red Hood that he would eat his words, and she was going to serve them to him on a silver platter. With a final exhale, she turned away from the window and went to examine what she had in the room that she could use.

The first thing she checked were the drawers of the desk, pulling them open slowly to make as little noise as possible, despite the rusty ball bearings. It was well worth it too, for the sight that greeted her.

"Yes!" she exclaimed in a whisper, pulling out one of the three and a half rolls of duct tape and an unopened reel of fishing line, ideas already springing to mind. "This couldn't be more perfect!" she whispered with a grin, looking in the remaining drawers. Aside from the various bits of paper, she pulled out a container of thumbtacks and paperclips, six carabiner clips(two of them being broken), an unopened packet of yellow sticky-notes(she already had some light pink ones in her purse, but she wasn't going to pass up more), and an oily can of WD-40.

At the opposite end of the room, were the duffle bag and the toolbox, which aside from the pile of weapons that she assumed to be Red Hood's, seemed to be the only other potentially useful things here. Marinette started with the toolbox, finding a couple of hammers, a mallet, a huge red monkey wrench, some screwdrivers, a jar of assorted rusty screws and nails, and a thing of Allen wrenches. Out of everything, she only took the monkey wrench and set it with the other useful objects on the desk. Next was the duffle bag, which when she opened it, revealed itself to be full of a bunch of other duffle bags.

"Huh..." she muttered, staring at it and running her fingers along the hefty cloth. It's a good thing that it is cloth, and not plastic. Though this does feel like polyester, it won't have that crinkly sound whenever it is moved, so I can use it to transport things from the crates downstairs. With a definitive nod to herself she stood, dumping the extra bags on the desk and pulling the now empty bag's strap over her shoulder.

"Okay, here we go!" she whispered to herself before slipping out of the room and towards the dark stairs.

Jason didn't know whether to be amused, pissed, or suspicious, so for the moment he was settled decidedly on 'bewildered'.

The cult had been somewhat out of the ordinary from the beginning. The string of disappearances that led to him finding them were, sadly, not too uncommon. The cult aspect of it however, was a bit of a shakeup from the usual human trafficking, territory disputes, or straight up murder cases they normally take on. Just different enough to make it interesting. What *hadn't* been ordinary was the glowing tranquilizer darts that could go through his Bat-approved armor. Bruce was not going to be happy about that when he found out. Hell, Jason wasn't happy about it now.

All of his memories from that point on were fuzzy in that familiar way that could only be caused by drugs, but he remembers getting away. At least, he thinks he remembers getting away, but clearly he didn't seeing as he woke up dangling from the ceiling next to some tiny, blue-haired French woman.

A tiny, blue-haired French woman who Jason was stuck watching sneak around the shadowed edges of some warehouse with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder and a smile on her face, surrounded by murderous cultists.

He was surprised with the skill she moved around with. Despite her confidence, he had expected her to get caught near immediately, and was mentally preparing himself for a whole slew of situations that could arise from that inevitability. But, much to his chagrin, she practically waltzed right past the cultists without so much as a curious head turn in her direction. Her style of stealth was much different than what he was accustomed to. She didn't meld into the shadows like the bats did, but she moved silently and with a confident sort of grace, using her surroundings to their fullest. Her path around the edges were calculated, he could tell, keeping obstructions in between her and the cultists as much as possible. She even climbed over and across a few crates to stay out of the peripheral of the two occupied with their phones, keeping her weight on the corners and junctions to avoid making noise or breaking the old wooden boards. It was something that Jason himself wouldn't have been able to do(not that he would need to in the first place), and it spoke of either years of practice sneaking around, or a lot of talent. All in all, he couldn't help but be grudgingly impressed. Not to mention suspicious.

She was clearly more experienced in these situations than he first thought, even including that concerning comment about some ridiculous food based(and possibly cannibalistic, which is a red flag for multiple reasons) villain she mentioned, and the damn Bat Patented Paranoia that Bruce managed to instill in every one of his wards was coming to light. Who was she? Is she a threat? An ally? Or just some random girl with more skills than sense? He didn't know and that was bothering him, so he watched.

It's not like I can do much else.

And he had tried. Despite how easily she had slipped through the rope they tied her with and climbed up with a strength and fluidity unexpected from her tiny frame, Jason remained stuck in his swaddle of chains. After searching for his hidden weapons when he had first woke up and finding them missing, he had reluctantly reached for his backup comm, before remembering the small argument with Dick he had that led him to stupidly spitefully take on this cult by himself in the first place, as well as leaving his comm and trackers in a safehouse along with a rather heartfelt 'fuck you' note. So, there was no way for him to get out, no way to call for his fam- the bats. His whole escape rested on the shoulders of the four-foot-tall-at-best, blue-haired girl with a smile too carefree for Gotham's rough edges and baked-in soot. The girl who was currently carrying around an empty duffle bag doing god knows what as she somehow silently pried open a large crate with confident motions and said mischievous grin, as if there wasn't a cult of psychos one mistake away from catching her.

No, he wasn't worried about her. He was frustrated that he was currently damseled. There is a difference, Dick.

"I already told you. I am going to make you eat your words." 

And... maybe a little intrigued.

Though, despite his years of vigilante experience, time on the streets, growing up in Wayne manor, and his training with the League of Assassins, he had absolutely no fucking idea what she was going to do with a duffle bag full of Harley Quinn inspired rubber chickens.

It took nearly all of Marinette's willpower not to giggle with glee when she found the crates of rubber chickens in her search for the Joker-inspired dolls(Which, seriously, who's idea even was that??). They were about three crates full that she could identify, all with the same logo as the boxes full of creepy-laughing-fake-clown-things and they were all fortunately placed near-ish to the opposite staircase that she came down from. This side of the warehouse was more crowded, mostly covered in pallets of cardboard boxes and some crates interspersed throughout.

This is perfect!

It took her a few trips and a couple close calls to get enough of the rubber chickens up to the office without accidentally setting them off, but thankfully she didn't have to sneak around the main floor for it, using the catwalks above instead. Admittedly, she used a bit of Luck to avoid the overly creaky paths and get away with it, but no one else needs to know that. Gathering up the neon-green-haired-monstrosities was quicker since she already knew where they were, but a tad more difficult seeing as the boxes were just behind and to the side of Judgy and Dolly(She could practically feel Red Hood's stress while she was doing that). For that, she called on more of Trixx's power to stay as silent as possible. Next, she went though the boxes farthest from the cultists, sifting through them quickly and making several trips up to her designated storage office.

Step four of The Plan had gained some wonderful additions in the form of metal BB-gun pellets, jacks, bouncy balls, and the gumballs that she had seen the cultists looking at as well, but she was getting ahead of herself.

There was one thing that she almost passed up, though, but the smallest of tugs from her Luck caused her to take a second look.

And by the Kwami, is she glad she did.

If the abundance of warnings on the package hadn't peaked her interest, the bold lettered label she read afterward sure did.

'FAST ACTING, WATER ACTIVATED SUPER GLUE POWDER'

"Hehehehehehe" Marinette couldn't help but giggle near breathlessly from where she crouched, shrouded in the darkness of the stairs, holding onto the sturdy plastic container with an evil grin.

Bruce loved his kids, he really did.

If he for some reason, in some way, ever lost all of his memories or sense of self, he would remember that. If there were nothing else left of him, be it from mind control, magic, head trauma, or for whatever reason, having to sell his soul to some malicious entity, all it would take is just looking at one of them and he would know.

Bruce loved his kids.

He loved them when it wasn't easy. Through all the fights, be them together against criminals and supervillains, or against each other with harsh words and silent treatments. Through moral differences, his failures and communication issues. He loved them when it was stressful. Through all the injuries and sickness, tough nights on patrol, prank wars that cost him thousands of dollars in repairs or teasing that ends in brawls over the dining table. He loved them when it was easy, too. Family dinners, game nights, public outings, or just working quietly in the same space.

Bruce loved his kids, and wouldn't trade them for anything.

But sometimes?

Sometimes he really wished he could give them back.

"This is Red Hood speaking, bringing you your top of the hour weather report," came the all too glib sounding voice from the speakers mounted in the corners of the warmly lit room. "Be careful out there tonight folks, because it looks like the clouds are heavy with betrayal and the threat of tyrannical and patronizing vigilantes!" The fake newscaster voice called out, echoing around the bare off-white walls that were splashed with black paint. Some were splotches or droplets, abstract Rorschach-esque compositions surrounded by messy and dripping quotes. The section directly opposite the window where he stood read 'Et tu, brute?', surrounded by twenty-seven kitchen knives, stabbed into the drywall.

"Condescension is an epidemic, easily spread through contact of those near you, so he careful to keep limited contact as to not fall prey to it's effects," Hood's voice spoke, glee very clear in his tone. Next to the circle of knives there were two more quotes on either side; 'Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime', and 'For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.' The second quote he recognized to be from the hunger games, though Bruce couldn't quite pinpoint the origins of first.

"If you are hearing this, you clearly didn't take my message to leave well enough alone seriously," the newscaster voice dropped, leaving Red Hood's sounding all too proud of himself. "To whom it may concern; consider all future collaborations null and voided, you are all dead to me, I never had a family, yada yada, etcetera etcetera. Any who enter my territory are personally liable for any and all actions or damages against them, including but not limited to inconveniences and humiliation via glitter, slime, paint, and dye. Please vacate the premises or suffer the consequences. Have a pleasant day."

"Oh, and tell Nightwing that he is a little bitch."

Bruce spent several moments to just stand in the empty apartment, staring at the pile of trackers on the table laid out in the shape of a middle finger. He sighed.

I love my kids.

Step two of Marinette's plan was coming together well, and she was close to moving on to the next phase.

The good part of hanging from the ceiling for longer than was even mildly comfortable was that she could see a lot with the bird's eye view. Many parts of her plan had gaps when she first started out, since she didn't know all of the materials available to her, but step two fixed that quite easily.

If there was one thing that Marinette had learned from her years as a Superheroine, especially one who fought a villain that preyed on people's emotions, it was how people reacted to sudden danger. Adrenaline does funny things to a person, taking perfectly rational thought and turning it into blind action. Fight or flight is a strong, instinctual reaction for all kinds of creatures, not just humans. When there is nowhere to run? You fight. When there is nothing to fight? You run. And when you run, what is it that you look for?

Step One: Neutralize Lookouts, Check. Step Two: Gather Supplies, Check(mostly). Step Three: The Path of Least Resistance.

There are four main exits and nineteen total cultists on the main floor. Two normal doors on each side underneath the offices that lead out of the building, and two large truck doors. With no real way to predict exactly who would go where, she has to assume that the best case scenario is each door having four or five cultists exit through them, and her traps being able to take out all of them at that number. Realistically, that isn't feasible. It could be all of them go through the same path, and most escape, or it could be that they scatter so far, they bypass the majority of her traps, leaving all of her work to be for naught. With how things were now, there were too many variables, too many obstacles, and too many unknowns. 

But this was Marinette. This was Ladybug. And it was time to do what a Ladybug does best; even the odds.

Marinette crouched on one of the catwalks that was hung in the direct center of the warehouse, just to the side of the cultists' ritual, her small travel sketchbook in hand. She was drawing out her plan and doing her best to ignore the prickling feeling of Red Hood's eyes on her as she marked out the best way to do this.

Two pillars on either side of the circle with the table and minifridge set nearest to the one towards the back side of the warehouse. The other one is down and to the side of the right most truck door, giving the least amount of room for error. To the left, further out and underneath the offices is the door we came in from, and it is the most likely exit that they would choose, seeing as it is at least marginally familiar, easier to open than the truck doors, and second closest. On the opposite side of the warehouse is the other normal door, which has the benefit of being in the darkest section of the warehouse and having a much longer path to set traps up on, but less likely to be chosen...

She leaned forward against the thin railing of the catwalk, staring down at the activity below and tapping her pencil against her chin as she thought. She heard a rattle of chains and couldn't help but lift her gaze to look at the source. The faintly glowing eyes of Red Hood's helmet stared at her intently from where he hung. She smirked at him, giving a little wave with her fingers, before an idea came to her and she looked back to the rightmost truck door.

If I block that one off and make a longer curved path from the side of the circle, it gives more of a chance to take out a few on the path. I could... Yes, that'll work.

Marinette quickly doodled a whole bunch of little boxes on her paper.

Then I could use the fishing line here and here, then all of the jacks, pellets, gum and bouncy balls on this side, then- hmm...

She looked up with narrowed eyes, examining all of the rafters and catwalks above where she was planning for the paths to go. Then smiled. That would work perfectly. Within another minute or so her sketches were finished and she stood, feeling giddy to see the end results of her plan. Before turning back to head down she looked again at Red Hood's intense stare, and gave him a wink.

Marinette spent the next half an hour moving boxes from one pile to another, shifting crates, and pushing pallets to create solid looking barriers, all while trying to remain as silent as possible, and there had only been a couple hiccups along the way. Along with a couple interesting discoveries. The first had been while she was creating the longest path, creating a good number of empty pallets for one of her planned traps.

Marinette had stopped as she brushed up against a solid feeling thing wrapped in plastic, and took a moment to examine the pallet next to her. It was hard to see in the dark and with the little light there was reflecting harshly off of the plastic wrap, so it took her a few seconds to figure out what it was she was looking at. Two adjacent pallets stacked taller than she was(Not that that was difficult, but good luck to whomever mentioned it cough cough Red Hood), completely made up of heavy paint cans. Marinette looked around, noticing that the path she had been making came directly toward the paint can pallets. There was no way in hell that she would be able to move them out of the way, let alone without being noticed, but... She looked up at the catwalk directly above, to the sides where she could curve the path around the bend and at the conveniently placed pillar, and back at the straight stretch of space she had been making. She smiled as another trap added itself to her list.

The second discovery was while she was clearing the shorter pathway towards rightmost door. To counteract the small amount of distance she had to work with, she decided to split this one in half with what was essentially an island of boxes that tapered off just before the doors. She was doing the shorter path first, despite it being closer to the cultists, because where the longer path was meant to go was filled with heavy crates of what she thinks are car parts which, for some reason, smelled faintly like smoke. Add the fact that Nappy was napping against the pillar over there, she didn't want to risk getting found this early. Needless to say, she was working extra hard to make as little sound as possible.

Marinette's heart had leapt into her throat when something shifted under her foot with a faint metal clank sound, very clearly not the solid concrete ground she had been expecting. Her head snapped up as she froze, straining her ears and glancing around her hidden spot in the shadows to determine if anyone heard. She was still for several long moments, sounds of the cultists washing over her, before determining that it was safe. With careful movements and a momentarily stronger draw on Trixx's power, she moved back slowly. Looking down, she found a slightly warped metal plate that was about the same size as her with a handle in one side. Curiously, she shifted the box she had been moving out of the way and gently pulled the metal plate up.

A shadowed abyss. An all consuming void. A dark, dank hole.

It was a maintenance tunnel, right in the middle of her path.

Marinette gently set the metal covering back down, mind racing. What could she do with this? It was much too good of an opportunity to pass up, and thankfully, she had an idea. Near the back of the warehouse, she could remember seeing a pile of cloth tarps. She could use those if she could just find something stronger than the fishing line...

An idea popped into her head. Very likely a bad idea but... well, she's sure Red Hood couldn't be too mad about her taking apart his weird harpoon-gun if it is to save him from being sacrificed, right? He probably has extras anyway.

She glanced up at the vigilante, then went back to moving boxes with a quiet snicker.

Jason still had no fucking idea what this woman was doing, and it was stressing him the fuck out. His escape rested solely on the shoulders of a woman playing high stakes ring-around-the-cultist instead of calling the cops like any sane person would do!

Jason wasn't as stupid to think that she couldn't have found a phone like she claimed. In face, he was certain she already had one in her purse, which, had to be some kind of pocket dimension to fit all that shit inside of it. Why would someone carry around a whole ass sketchbook and unopened roll of fishing line of all things?

(Jason was ignoring the fact that he knew several people who would, could, and have carried around that and much weirder. In all honesty, he just wanted something to be annoyed about. It was cathartic.)

It had been about an hour or so since she practically skipped her way out of being kidnapped like it was no big deal, and he had spent it with nothing to do but become more appalled and concerned by the second. If it weren't for the fact that he was watching this happen live and in the flesh, he wouldn't believe some of the stuff she managed to get away with. 

The blue-haired woman(he really needed to find out her name) had nearly gotten herself caught already. Not by climbing up one of the support pillars like a spider which the ones on watch missed by conveniently turning away from at the right moment, or making a frankly ridiculously sized pile of boxes in front of the truck door which the sound of was drowned out by the fridge seemingly having a mechanical seizure, or even moving a crate right fucking behind two of the cultists who somehow didn't notice because of a supposedly funny video on their phones! No, she almost got caught by a fucking sneeze.

She had been picking up some pile of cloth from a dark corner that she was undoubtedly going to use for some weird-ass thing that would make perfect sense well after he finally managed to finally get the fuck down and out of this god damned warehouse. But, from his vantage point, Jason could see that in getting so comfortable moving around in enemy territory(helped by the fact that she must be the luckiest person in Gotham. Seriously, share some of that with the rest of us, would ya?) the blue-haired woman had gotten complacent.

He winced as the fabric slipped from her fingers and sent a massive cloud of dust right into her face. Both he and the woman tensed as a long moment passed, Jason in anxiousness, while the woman seemed to be winding up, holding her hands tightly over her face. Then, she sneezed, full body convulsing and letting out a squeak that even he could hear from his vantage point.

…that was adorable.

One of the cultists blow looked of from their phone and looked in the direction of the noise, then asked their partner something.

Oh shit-

"Hey, did you hear squeaking?" Dolly asked, head raising from where she was hunched over her phone. Marinette felt panic rising as she dropped into a crouch as fast as she could, pressing her side into the heavy crate beside her, holding her nose and blinking through watery eyes, the dust making her entire face feel as if it were being attacked by tiny, sword-wielding specks.

"No? What are you talking about?" Judgy responded, looking up from his phone, pausing some video that she could faintly hear playing through their earbuds. Marinette's sinuses stung and eyes watered as she took deep breaths through her mouth, full body seizing several times with the force of holding back the sneezes. She made as little noise as possible, slowly crawling around the edge of a box to be out of sight of the cultists. Owowowow, my everything-

"Dude, are you deaf? That sounded like a mouse getting stepped on."

"Why do you even know what that sounds like?"

"I had cats as a kid."

Taking one hand away from her face, she pressed it to the ground to help her do an awkward crab walk further down the line of pallets to a mostly empty one that lead to an enclosed area where she could die in peace.

"So you've stepped on a mouse before?"

"No I- just- shut up and come check it out with me."

"Hell no, I don't want to see any mice. They're like, the size of rabbits in this city."

"Those are rats you fucking dumbass-"

Marinette crouched next to the pallet, taking more careful deep breaths and wiping the tears from her eyes. She watched carefully from her place in the shadows until they were both fully turned away. She was mostly obstructed by boxes but not willing to risk it. After what felt like an eternity, but was likely just twenty seconds or so, her chance came in the form of Dolly opening a box. She practically dove through the gap left for her and curled up on the floor for a while, recovering her senses as Dolly and Judgy talked. Marinette was only half paying attention, lamenting the existence of dust and wallowing until her half-formed bruises stopped stinging, when the shifting of cardboard and something Judgy said caught her attention.

"That is an unholy amount of glitter."

Marinette paused, a grin pressing against her hands.

I take it back. Worth it.

Marinette can't say that she had ever been particularly talented at sneaking around. It just never came naturally to her. Disguises and hiding in plain sight? That's just like an extension of sewing or acting, easy peasy. Hiding? Sure, she's great at picking the right spot and fitting in tiny spaces, it's just an extension of luck and strategy. Sneaking? That's a different story all together.

That isn't to say that she is bad at sneaking, she's just not talented at it. It means that every bit of skill she has was hard earned through extreme situations and years of practice. Being a superhero made her learn a lot of things, sink or swim style, with no safety net to fall back on. So, despite how... unusual and high stakes this situation is, Marinette isn't quite out of her depth yet.

That's what she told herself at least, standing fully upright with a wooden pallet hanging from her shoulders as she walked with it to a dark corner of the warehouse where another fifteen wooden pallets lay stacked, silently begging the universe that none of the cultists look over at this exact spot. Of course, she planned for this particular trap to be set up just before the leftmost exit, meaning she was as far from the cultists as she could be and had many obstacles in between them, making it very unlikely to be seen, but still. The chance was there.

Luckily, this was the last pallet she needed to set up this trap in particular, so she didn't need to haul any more all across the place. And extra luckily(Thanks to the magic she borrowed from Tikki and Trixx, no doubt), no one saw her walk around the edges of their circle and through the now complete pathways. Well, no one except Red Hood, who had been staring so hard at her this entire time, she wondered if he was trying to spontaneously develop the ability to shoot lasers from his eyes. Or maybe telepathy so he could yell at her for 'unnecessary' risk taking, she could only guess.(Well, he may have a point about the risk taking, but there is no way in hell she would ever say that. She was doing this to prove a point, practicality be damned.) She ignored him, as she had been doing since the beginning, setting the pallet down as quietly as she could despite the two stacks both reaching above her head. After a moment to breathe and admire her hard work, she pulled out the roll of fishing line and her extra pair scissors, tying the two stacks of pallets together and then working her way back through the slightly curved path until she reached the pillar.

Trap list;  Web of Ouch, Check.  Series of Unfortunate Tripwires(1), Check.

Onto the next!

Time flew by as Marinette gleefully set up the rest of her planned traps. A grapple gun, disassembled for its wire, and a cloth tarp carefully placed in front of a slick patch of WD-40. A block of wood suck in the opening mechanism of the truck door and a huge, precarious pile of various sized wooden crates that really tested the limits of her Tetris skills. A person-sized mat of duct tape woven together and placed sticky side up after another Series of Unfortunate Tripwires along the winding path to the leftmost door. A wooden wedge carefully positioned underneath the back edge of the two huge pallets of paint cans to slightly tilt them forward, and another paint can tied to the I-beam above and held to the underside of the catwalk by a thin string. Boxes filled to the brim with bouncy balls, gum balls, BB gun pellets, and metal jacks tied above two of the four exit pathways, a stolen steel-toed boot filled with rocks ready to swing at the turn of a handle. And, her personal favorite so far, a wooden plank positioned just above the cultists' plastic table and mini-fridge, piled with the superglue powder and the wonderful addition of rainbow glitter.

She had managed to test the superglue powder on Nappy, using it to fuse his clothes to the concrete he was resting on, and it was wonderful. There is no way that he is getting up with his clothes still intact. She kind of felt a little bad for the ones who are going to get this dumped on them, but oh well. She's sure the hospital will take care of it.

Probably.

She had managed to find a working water spout and long hose, complete with attached nozzle, that would reach all the way to where Red Hood was hanging, so that was one less thing for her to worry about doing herself. The last thing she set up was the discount Joker Dolls and the Rubber chickens while sitting in one of the disused offices. The whole room had become a sort of base of operations, and looked just about as chaotic as the end product of her plan was going to, but Marinette didn't care all that much. To get the effect she was going for just right, she had to be very careful in how she went about it. Packing in the rubber chickens at the bottom of the crate as precisely as possible then slowly lowering heavy bags of all the black and red glitter she could find to make the chickens stay in their deflated state. She carefully poked holes in the tops of the bags with one of the thumb tacks she had found, before carefully switching on all the joker dolls and placing them in the box.

Marinette will admit to using a lot of magic to make sure this step didn't go wrong, but once the four boxes were attached at their points on the catwalk and connected to her activation pull cord, she couldn't help the little giddy happy dance. It was ready!! The only thing left was letting Red Hood know his part, then the trap is set!

Jason wanted to throw his previous resolve to just wait and see how things turn out through the fucking window, because this was getting ridiculous. Patience has never really been his thing, which is becoming more and more apparent to him the longer he is forced to watch the sheer, unadulterated audacity on display.

He will admit to being mildly entertained in the beginning, watching the woman doing whatever the hell it is that she's doing like it was some kind of soap opera. When The Sneeze(TM) happened, he had been near certain she was caught, but seeing as she somehow had to be the luckiest person in the whole god damn world, she got away scot-free as the two cultists with the same skill level and attention span as low level videogame characters got distracted by industrial sized bags of glitter.

Which of course she later took to use for whatever unholy Rube Goldberg Machine she was making, alongside with a mysterious white powder that came from boxes absolutely covered in warning labels.

But the craft herpes and unprecedented luck were not what made him want to scream at her from two stories up and eighty feet away, cultists be damned. No, that urge came from the very familiar line of cordage she had looped through some kind of tarp and tied in knots, knots!! She took apart his grapple gun and used it for some kind of dirty picnic blanket! HIS FUCKING GRAPPLE GUN! The AUDACITY! He was fuming, glaring as she wrapped a hose over her shoulder and started trekking up the stairs and over the catwalks towards him. 

Finally!

"My fucking grapple gun?!" Red Hood hissed with indignation as soon as she was withing earshot, if barely. Marinette huffed and rolled her eyes, adjusting the hose wrapped around her shoulder to let more slack down.

"Well hello to you too." She said, tone filled with sarcasm and sass in equal measure, but internally she was beaming. He's not ruining her good mood when she is so close to success. She gently laid the hose wrapped around her shoulder down onto the catwalk as she crouched, careful not to make any suspicious noise. Not that the cultists would be likely to look up even if they heard it(After being subjected to the eye-searing glare of the floodlights herself, Marinette didn't exactly blame them, though still...), but it doesn't hurt to be careful.

"You took apart my fucking grapple gun?!" He repeated, voice inching higher. Clearly, some people don't think the phrase 'better safe than sorry' applies to them. She looked up at the rafters, rolling her head back in mild annoyance, as she drew on more of Trixx's power to muffle their conversation before taking a dramatic pose and poorly mimicking Hood's voice.

"'Oh, hi Marinette, thank you for risking your life to save me from being sacrificed by these scary cultists, I really owe you one.'" She shifted her stance and changed back to her own voice. "'No problem, Red Hood, I'm glad you understand that sometimes sacrifices must be made for the continued freedom of the innocent.'" She crossed her arms and looked pointedly in the faintly glowing eye of the Vigilante's helmet with a slight pout. She couldn't see it, but Marinette imagined that he took a split second to blink.

"Was that a pun?" Marinette tilted her head, thinking back over her words before silently grinning. "So not only do you take apart my god damned grapple gun, you fucking pun at me about it?!" Marinette chuckled, uncrossing her arms and going back to carefully untangling the hose.

"You can get another one, cant you?" She asked flippantly, Red Hood grunted in displeasure.

"Ugh... Yeah, but that is so inconvenient." If it weren't for the voice modulator, Marinette would *almost* call his tone petulant, but for now she simply thought of it as pouty.

"Welcome to the club." She responded, to which he huffed.

"What, the club for inconveniences and cultists?" She could hear the smirk in his voice, and had to hold back her own.

"Yep." She responded cheerfully instead, "Meetings every Thursday in the warehouse of rejected toys."

"Why Thursdays?"

"Because Thursdays are the worst day of the week." She said with certainty, staring off into the middle distance as she remembered all the bad things that happen on Thursdays.

Well, at the end of it all, this might not end up being one of the bad things after all...

"Isn't that supposed to be Monday?" Marinette rolled her eyes and huffed in exasperation before shaking her head.

"I'm not going over this again." Red Hood leaned his head back, seemingly nonplused.

"Again?"

"Anyway," Marinette continued, cutting him off from speaking further. "I have everything ready except for this one last thing, which I will need your help for." Hood straightened(as much as he could anyway), as if remembering something and his voice pitched slightly deeper in a commanding kind of way. As a former superhero herself, she was very familiar with it.

"Yeah, actually, I'm going to need you to exp-"

"Shush shh shh." Marinette said, waving a hand at him while distracted with straightening the rest of the hose and turning the nozzle to 'shower' mode in preparation to lower it to him. Despite this, she could feel the affront radiating off of the vigilante. She fought down a smile as she continued. "Don't interrupt people, its rude."

Red Hood made a strangled noise, like he was trying to start several different sentences at once but nothing managed to make it past the first syllable, very effectively cutting off his demand for explanations she absolutely wasn't going to give him. She wished that she could see what his expression looked like right now, it would keep her giggling for weeks.

"Okay, so I don't know how much you were paying attention-" That's a lie, she knew he has been watching her like a hawk this whole time, "but you see the boards I set up with the piles of white powder and glitter above their supply table?" she asked, pivoting on the balls of her feet to look at him, wrapped in chains and hanging above a half done ritual circle.

"Yeah?" The word sounded like he wanted to growl it, but was too off kilter to fully manage. She held back a laugh, but couldn't help the smirk that slipped through.

"Well." She said, holding up the hose next to her head for him to see, "What I need you to do, is spray water on the cultists that powder drops on." She finished with a sunny grin. There was silence for several long moments as they stared at each other, sounds outside their little bubble left ignored. Marinette didn't falter, expression as solid as Hood's helmet. When he finally spoke, it was loaded and laced with emotion and demand.

"Why."

Marinette blinked and tilted her head. There were a lot of ways that she could answer him, ways to interpret what exactly he was asking about. Why the water, why him. It could be why she insisted on being so... Cavalier about this whole situation, or why she stuck around to help instead of running. Or, most likely, it could be why go through all this trouble? Why spend hours setting all this up when a single phone call would have gotten them out of this mess in minutes? And yet...

She felt the magic in her chest swirling, Luck and Misfortune dancing across her shoulders. Creation and Destruction chasing each other through the blurry seams of the world around her. Her connection to the Kwami hummed in her ears, and she felt the Balance on the verge of a Shift. Her words here could change the Fate of this city. A small action could tip the scales of Order and Chaos.

No pressure.

"Because," she said slowly, earnestness in her eyes as she stared through Red Hood and into the Destruction and Misfortune clinging to him like leaches, tainting and feeding on the Hope and Safety in his Soul. Magic seeped into her voice, spreading through her like invisible veins of sunlight and guiding her words. "When life takes you down a path that gives nothing but blood and darkness, the only way to make it to the other side is to create your own light."

She got no response, the vigilante seeming frozen by her words, staring intently from behind glowing lenses. She herself took a few moments to collect her thoughts as the Magic dissipated, the feeling of Balance fading to the background, leaving behind no indication on if she said the right thing. 

But she did, she knew she did.

With a comforting smile loaded with memories of long nights, suppressed feelings and more responsibility than any child should ever have to shoulder, she reached down and handed him the hose. He took it automatically, still processing her words. Marinette stood to leave, before looking over her shoulder and saying,

"Enjoy the show, Hood." She smirked at him, turning and walking away. "Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about how dangerous 'feather dusters' can be."

"I got something." Oracle's spoke suddenly through the uncharacteristic silence of the coms.

"Report." Batman ordered, the speed of his reply being the only indicator of his worry, but after knowing him for so long Oracle could read it very easily. Keys clacked rapidly under her fingers as she hacked into phone satellites and pulled up tracking software.

"A phone call, asking specifically for Commissioner Gordon." She paused for a moment, skimming over the auto-generated transcript from the audio file.

"Hn." Batman grunted impatiently. She could almost feel his signature stare through the computer.

"Hold your horses." She muttered quietly, speaking up again shortly after as several blue dots started appearing and disappearing on the map of the warehouse district on her other screen. "Someone called in to report cult activity and kidnapping approximately two minutes ago."

"Is it Hood?" Red Robin asked, voice calm if slightly winded. A quick glance at his body cam footage showed him finishing up a fight with a couple muggers.

"It seems likely," she said, refocusing. "The video feeds I managed to find earlier put him near the reconnaissance point N gave me before he disappeared, and the call claims two people were kidnapped." Her eyes narrowed at the screen, the tracking software taking somewhat longer to pinpoint the origin of the call than normal, only giving her the general area, but...

"But?" Nightwing interrupted, much more subdued than earlier in the night. Barbara smirked a little at his words aligning with her thoughts. She started combing through traffic camera feeds from the estimated time of the kidnapping to pinpoint the location manually as she spoke.

"It was a woman with a French accent who called it in, and from the sound of the audio, she was suspiciously calm. Almost excited sounding, even." Barbara frowned, finding a suspicious looking beat-up brown van and several cars all driving to one warehouse approximately 3 hours and 28 minutes ago. "There was no mention or description of who exactly the kidnapped people were, though the caller implied she was one of them." There were no cameras pointing towards where they parked, and any security the disused warehouse had was either completely broken on or a closed circuit. She started back tracking the path of the van while she ran the license plates she managed to get from one of the higher quality traffic cams.

"Think it's a trap?" Red Robin asked. She hummed, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a moment. She started looking into the warehouse's utilities, searching for any any weirdly high power draws that would indicate a villain lair, but didn't find anything on that scale.

"I'm sending you the address, B." She said quickly, inputting it to the Batmobile's navigation system before answering Red. "There's not enough evidence to say, but I don't think it is a trap, exactly. All the information we have about the cult from previous reconnaissance doesn't indicate them being a setup, and the call, despite specifically mentioning the Commissioner, was for the police, not us." She checked the rout on the Batmobile's map against hers, looking it over for roadblocks.

"But it is suspicious." Red Robin replied, a calculating edge to his voice.

"But it is suspicious." She confirmed. Construction blocked off the block with the most direct route from Batman to the warehouse, looks like a fire in a machinery overlay facility that took out a corner of the building. The traffic cones and interspersed equipment would be little obstacle for Bruce the Broody Dad-Bat, though.

"Enroute, eleven minutes." Said the aforementioned Overprotective Flying Marsupial. Oracle looked at his tracker.

"Take a left in two blocks and you'll be there in eight." She typed in several commands and a new path showed up on his map. "Careful for the piles of bricks." A flash from another screen caught her attention and she turned her head.

Ah, good.

"Red, I'm sending you the address of where it looks like Hood was taken from. N, I'm sending you files for the owners of the cars that the cultists used. None of them have been reported stolen, so see if you can confirm or find anything incriminating we can give to the police." From their body cam footage, she could see Red pulling out his grapple gun and shooting off while Nightwing quickly looked through his wrist computer.

"What would we ever do without you, O?" Nightwing asked with a laugh, the first one since Hood turned up missing.

"Die, probably." Red Robin responded as he leapt off of a building. Oracle snorted.

"Probably." She agreed

Marinette was in position, crouched behind the cultists' table of junk and fridge of dubiously sourced blood. All of her traps were set and ready to go, the few she needed to activate all connected back to this one spot. She went over her mental checklist with a feeling of satisfaction.

Step One: Neutralize Lookouts, Check. Step Two: Gather Supplies, Check. Step Three: The Path of Least Resistance, Check. Step Four: Traps, Check.

It was a simple plan, though by no means easy. The bruises and rope burn had made friends with the muscle fatigue and aching joints from all the crawling, climbing, and carrying that she had done to get to this point. The close calls that made her heart race with adrenaline bled into giddy anticipation for the payoff. Finally, the culmination of all of her hard work was here.

Step Five: It All Falls Down.

She looked up, past the eye watering glare of the floodlight and directly at Red Hood. With squinting eyes and a toothy grin, she shot him a thumbs up. After a moment, he responded in kind, holding up the hose. Marinette looked back down, blinking a few times to clear the spots from her vision and then steeling herself with a deep breath.

Go time.

Creeping forward, Marinette reached the extension cord that powered the mini-fridge. The very same mini-fridge that filled the warehouse with the constant gurgling drone of an appliance on the edge of complete and utter non-function. With a quick and simple yank and a careful dive back behind cover, the warehouse suddenly descended into silence.

"... The hell?" One of the cultists that had been drawing runes into the edge of the circle muttered, looking up at the sudden quiet, quickly followed by the other three.

"What happened?" Dolly called from the other side of the circle, voice echoing as she stood up from where she rested against a large crate with Judgy.

"The fridge just turned off." Drawing Cultist number two said, setting down her protractor.

"Well no shit-" the third one said, before being cut off by the one in the red-trimmed potato sack.

"Figure it out without disrupting meditation, lest our hard work go to waste." He said in an excessively haughty voice that gave her flashbacks of a certain blond. Marinette couldn't see their faces, but from their posture she could deduce that the four drawing cultists and Dolly weren't too happy about this guy. If she had to guess, it would probably be because his version of 'hard work' consisted of sitting with his eyes closed and bossing people around.

Oh well, that's what you get for being in a cult that kidnapped people, I guess.

The four Drawing Cultists made their way over, two stopping next to the table, one going directly to the fridge, and the last hung back with their arms crossed, just beside one of the meditating cultists. Marinette shifted, hand wrapping around the first fishing line, pulling it until it was just taught.

"Hey, who unplugged-" the cultist never got to finish their sentence, as Marinette *yanked* the fishing line and four crates balanced on top of the catwalks above tipped. Then spilled...

Then it all fell down.

----

Jason had never been big on the Internet. Sure, it was beyond useful for investigative work, but from growing up poor, to living on the streets, to being dead, there wasn't much time for him to get immersed in 'internet culture', as Tim called it. But, he did remember one of Dick's attempts at 'brotherly bonding night' where he spent several hours putting up with far too many compilation videos meant to 'catch him up on what he missed while dead'. He remembered them, at this one very specific moment, because of the one 'Vine' Dick showed them of a rubber chicken falling off a roof. It had been mildly amusing at the time, enough keep him around longer than he otherwise would have stayed. He had even laughed a little, and made a joke about it being accurate to what Dick sounded like when pushed off of high places. The responding squawk from his adoptive brother proved his point perfectly, to the amusement of the rest of the room.

Jason was not laughing now.

If he had been asked before to imagine the bone chilling sound of hundreds of screaming rubber chickens falling through a warehouse like an unholy rain, nothing would have come close to the reality. He doubted anything could come close to reality; the single most unsettling sound he had ever heard freezing everyone in place with held breath as the screaming and thwaps of rubber hitting concrete stopped. That was, until the dolls activated.

From inside the dispersed mounds of toys and clouds of glitter slowly spreading over the floor in a way that reminded him of fear gas, more pairs of red eyes than he could count lit up like beacons, followed by laughter.

Screaming laughter.

Jason knows that if he wasn't hanging from chains at this moment, he would either be running or shooting. His fist clenched around the hose in his hand, and water started raining down below him. At the same time, he heard two separate thunks, followed by what sounded like a rain of vaguely spherical objects and confused screaming from below him.

White powder fell in a heap, coating the cultists and spreading over the floor near the table they had set up, and he remembered what the woman- Marinette- told him. Swallowing down the adrenaline induced haze, he aimed the water as the cultists scattered.

It was chaos.

The three cultists closest to the table had the most powder on them, and when they ran directly under the path of the water, something unexpected happened. The first one fell, foot stuck to the ground, and the other two tripped over them and didn't get back up again, writhing where they had ragdolled against the floor, stuck to it like a glue trap. The white powder got on two more, one of the people who were meditating and the person standing next to them. They ran, only getting partially soaked before they were out of range. They ran for the door behind Jason, clothes becoming stiff and sticky with glue, but not managing to fully stop them. They didn't get far, because as soon as they got to the border of the boxes they tripped over the balls of various sizes scattered over the floor. One fell to the side, catching themselves on a heavy crate while the other fell face first into the floor. Neither got back up, despite how much they struggled.

On the path next to them, two more cultists had tried to escape, but instead of sticking to the floor like the others, they slid on it. Crashing into each other, they both fell head first into a dusty tarp that seemed to swallow them whole as they fell into a pit. The cord of his mutilated grapple gun pulled taught, closing around the edges of the tarp, leaving only a single flailing leg sticking out of the top.

Across from him, on the longest and darkest path, the two cultists who were meant to be on watch followed behind a third at a dead sprint. They gained speed unhindered, until they were around twenty feet away from the door when the one in front hit a tripwire, stumbling but keeping momentum. But then they hit another tripwire.

And another tripwire.

And then another tripwire.

They managed to dodge by jumping over the last tripwire, only to miss the clothesline that hit them directly at neck height. The cultist fell, slamming their head on the ground, knocked out cold with a muted thud.

The two behind didn't stop for their friend, simply jumping over the prone form and ducking past the clothesline, speeding up for the last stretch to the door. They almost made it, but we're stopped dead by the web of fishing line and stacks of pallets that collapsed around the two, trapping them in a tangle of limbs and splinters.

Just behind them, almost at the same time another cultists barely dodged a paint can swinging down from the rafters, only to be buried under the resulting cascade of paint cans that spilled from two huge pallets. The one behind skid to a stop and backpedaled, watching four of their companions go down trying to get out that way. They then turned around, seeing a fifth person groaning on the ground stuck to a mat of tape they fell on after running through another series of tripwires and singular clothesline. In a panicked haze, they looked around until spotting a couple of others at the truck door that wasn't blocked off, trying to open it. The panicking cultist rushed over just as they managed to crack it open, incidentally causing a veritable avalanche of boxes and crates to fall on all three.

There were three left standing. The one with red trim, who was yelling obscenities while standing in the middle of their half done ritual, and the two who were walking through the minefield of tripping hazards that got the ones half-covered in glue. They reached the other side without falling within just a few seconds of each other, the one who got there first sprinting forwards and throwing open the door with a screech of rusted hinges.

Then was promptly knocked the fuck out by a boot to the face.

The last one made it out the door, then screamed. Their footsteps fell silent.

Jason was gaping.

Holy... Fucking... Shit...

Below him, he heard cackling. Not the unsettling, mechanical and screaming laughter of the joker dolls, but the nearly evil delighted glee coming from the small blue-haired woman dancing around with a monkey wrench the size of her arm held in one hand. Her high ponytail bounced behind her, covered in cobwebs and dust. Her clothes were rumpled and dirty, and even from this distance her arms looked like she went ten rounds with an octopus and lost. But despite this, she was practically glowing.

"IT WORKED, YES!!! HAHA!" She shouted out, twirling out from behind her wall of boxes, head whipping around in every direction, taking it all in. The lead cultist whirled around, gaze locking onto her.

"YOU!" He shouted in outrage, immediately charging at the much smaller woman. Jason sucked in a breath, whether to warn her or just shout, he is not sure, but the sound never left his throat.

Marinette turned her feral grin on the charging cultist, and when he was in range, swung her heavy monkey wrench and hit him right in the shoulder. Jason could hear the bone snap. She hit him again, this time in the stomach with a forwards jab, then another swing to the knee with a sickening crunch, taking him down completely and then stepping far enough away he couldn't reach her, just in case. She spun, turning to look directly at him.

"You still think I'm adorable and harmless, Hood?!" She shouted up at him, dropping the wrench with a heavy thunk. "I told you that you would eat your words," she threw her arms out wide "Now eat them and weep!" She cackled madly, not waiting for an answer as she turned and skipped away. Skipped.

Jason was left speechless, open mouthed and hanging above the groaning and unconscious cultists who had kidnapped and were prepared to sacrifice him with only one thought.

I think I might be in love.

The Batmobile skid to a stop in front of the warehouse and he practically flew out of it. The outside was dark, but he could see light seeping out through broken and dirty windows and hear a commotion coming from the inside. He ran towards the closest door, only to be mildly surprised as it was thrown open with a near deafening screech of the hinges when he was still a few paces away. The surprise didn't stop, because even as he was getting into a fighting stance, the person(whom he identified as one of the cultists his sons were investigating) was knocked out by a boot swinging down from the crude mechanism he only barely had time to noticed before it activated.

… What?

Pushing his confusion and surprise away, he focused on the second cultist that came running through the loudly closing door. They made it a few steps out before noticing him in the dim lighting. Expression already contorted in fear and panic, the shock of seeing Batman standing in their way was too much, and they screamed.

Bruce punched them in the face, then spent a few precious seconds zip tying their hands and feet so they couldn't escape when they woke up. Creeping forward to the door that was held open by the unconscious body of the first cultist, he peered inside to where he could hear a woman's manic laughter. Once he did, he stopped to take it all in.

His son, in full gear, was hanging from the ceiling, wrapped in chains and holding a leaking garden hose. Below him was a small woman covered in dirt and injuries, laughing maniacally as she stood above an even more injured cultist who was trying to crawl away with one arm, and another pile of people somehow stuck to the ground. He could see a hole of some kind to the left with a single still-moving leg sticking upwards, and to the right two people splayed out like ragdolls. He could hear muffled arguing and curses from the other side of the warehouse, along with creaks of pallets and groaning from underneath piles of boxes. Bruce felt a very familiar feeling creeping over him, one his kids loved to induce for the sole purpose of causing grey hairs.

What the hell happened?

But this time, it wasn't one of his kids who were responsible. He watched as the woman turned, looking directly at Jason and yelling up at him.

"You still think I'm adorable and harmless, Hood?! I told you that you would eat your words, now eat them and weep!" Then she cackled madly, turned, and skipped through to the opposite side of the building.

Well, Bruce thought with a restrained sigh, maybe he was at least a little responsible.

Bruce slid through the door, creeping around the edges of the circle before emerging from the shadows in front of his son. Hood jerked, whipping his head from where he was staring after the woman to Batman. He grunted, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Uh, hi- hey." Jason cleared his throat again, attempting for casual and failing miserably. "How's- uh, how's it goin'?" he stammered, glancing back to where the woman disappeared. Stammered. Bruce didn't answer, tilting his head and scanning the carnage again, before spotting the loop of rope hanging next to his son.

"...How long have you been here?" His tone was harder to decipher with the voice modulator, but Bruce would recognize it easily from any one of his children. Jason was flustered.

"B?" Hood asked, unsettled as a small grin grew on The Batman's face. Whoever that woman was, whatever Jason said to her to cause this reaction, Bruce would likely thank her for the opportunity to get back at one of his children for all the grief they cause him. Uncrossing his arms, Bruce pulled a phone out of his belt pouch. "B? B don't you fucking dare-" He still didn't respond, holding up the device with one hand, and snapping a picture. Ignoring his son's vehement protests, he sent the photo to Alfred with the attached message:

B: please print and frame this for display in the cave.

A: Of course, Sir. I suppose the bulletproof frames will come in useful after all.

Red Hood continued to swear, attempting to spray him with water from the hose he still held tightly in hand. Bruce just put the phone away and reached up to tap his comm with his small smile still in place.

"Oracle, please send Nightwing and Red Robin to my location." He said calmly, concerned exclamations immediately coming through only to be drowned out by Hood's booming voice.

"B, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!"

[starwarsmum]

Day 3 of Daminette December! Birthday

@maribat-calendar-events

Jon was excited for his birthday party. He was finally turning twenty-one and nearly all of his family and friends had promised to come to Metropolis to celebrate in style. He had made so many new friends since leaving Gotham Academy and starting at Metropolis University.

He only had one person left to convince and it was taking a lot of wheedling. He had flown into the batcave to try again, pouting when Robin merely glared at him. He turned to Nightwing for support, pleading for all he was worth.

“Please please please, I'm only going to turn twenty-one once and you're my best friend,” Jon begged, floating at his shoulder. He knew he would be able to crack him, it was just a matter of what he would have to promise in return.

“Tt, if I agree to go, I will be exempt from your next month's worth of team building on the watchtower,” Robin said, shooting a smug look at him. Jon narrowed his eyes at his friend, wondering if he could be bargained down. “It is the only offer you will get, take it or leave it.”

“Ugh, fine, as long as you'll be there for at least an hour,” Jon countered, glad when he saw Robin's face twitch into a scowl before he nodded. “Perfect, I'll resend you the e-invite because I know you probably already deleted it. Party starts at eight!”

He flew off before he could be pulled into another negotiation. He was home again in no time at all and pulled his phone out of the bag he had abandoned on his desk. He checked for more responses to invites to find one from his fellow aspiring reporter, Alya.

Yo, Jonny, I checked with Mari and she said she can make it! You have no idea how hard it was to get an answer from her, she said she's been crazy busy, but for you? We'll see you tomorrow pretty boy x

Jon grinned at his phone; Marinette was coming to his party! He hadn't seen her in person for well over a year because she was ridiculously busy. Between her fashion degree, her internship and commissions, she never seemed to rest, let alone fly across the ocean to visit her friends. 

_ _ _ 

“Hey, Jon, wicked party,” his older/younger brother Kon shouted, clearly already well into the festivities. Jon was feeling pretty loose himself, everyone more than happy to fetch him a drink if they saw his was empty. Before he could answer, Kon zipped away, back towards the bar - and his best friend/crush, Tim Drake.

As a new song started up, someone slunk into the room, keeping to the edges and the shadows. Squinting, he focused on the surly face, silent movements and general bad attitude and shot towards his friend. He caught up to him in moments, right next to Alya and Marinette who were laughing about something or other.

“Dames, you made it!” He cheered, his over enthusiasm at seeing Damian meaning that he accidentally pushed him into the girls. “Whoa, sorry Alya, Mari!”

“No problem,” Alya said with a laugh, as Marinette stared up at the man who had nearly flattened her. Jon winced as he thought about how bright and bubbly Marinette was, and how much Damian hated that kind of thing. “Down girl, if you don't stop staring you're gonna burn a hole in him.”

“Alya,” Marinette squeaked, blushing a bright red and looking quickly away. She took a deep breath before glancing back up at Damian and stammering a hello. “N-nice to meet you, I'm Marinette and this is Alya.”

“Tt, I did not ask,” Damian sneered, eyes narrowed and tone icy. Jon winced again, wondering how he could extract everyone from the situation he had accidentally created without anyone getting hurt feelings or worse. It had been a long time since Damian had allowed himself to cause an injury, but if the circumstances were right…

“I didn't say you asked,” Marinette said angrily, placing a hand on her hip and shooting her own glare at Damian. Taking her other hand, she pointed a finger into his face, and Jon realised that perhaps Mari had had a little bit to drink as well. “But it is rude to dismiss someone just for being friendly, especially when you almost squished them with your oversized, muscly body.”

“It is rude to continue a conversation when the other party is clearly uninterested,” Damian sniped, glaring down at the petite woman. Jon heard Alya huff a laugh as she lifted her phone camera and pointed it at the scene unfolding in front of them. He wished he knew how to defuse the situation but then Mari stepped closer to Damian and poked him in the chest - hard enough to make him take a step back.

“Perhaps I was waiting for an apology for the aforementioned squishing,” she said hotly. Jon panicked as more and more eyes were drawn to the confrontation, Damian’s brothers whispering amongst themselves but not coming over. “For someone who came to a party well past fashionably late, you seem very concerned with rudeness.”

“If I apologise, will you let me end this inane conversation? Or will it encourage you to attempt small talk? I do not know you, and besides which I was not at fault for falling into you. The guilty party for that has already apologised,” he retorted, taking hold of her hand and pushing it down.

Quicker than he had thought Mari could move, Jon watched as she flipped her hand and continued the momentum Damian had created. He fell to the ground with a snarl, the grip she had on his hand forcing him to stay down if he didn't want to break his wrist.

“Don't talk down to me, gorgeous,” she purred, pressing a knee onto Damian's chest. Jon watched in amazement as several things happened at once. Damian’s brothers all started coming over to them, pushing through the crowds. Alya chuckled but didn't lower her phone, keeping it trained on the pair. 

But most bewilderingly, Damian stayed down. He didn't try to push her off balance, or use a hidden knife to stab her in the leg. In fact, he was staring at her as if he'd never seen anything like her before. His heart was also thudding impressively, something that Jon noted for later.

“...I am sorry for knocking into you, Marinette,” he said softly, sitting up when she released him, a grin lighting up her face. She hauled him to his feet, helping to dust off his suit jacket, and giggling a little. The other Wayne boys stopped abruptly as they watched the small Asian woman touching their brother and getting away with it.

“It's fine, I'm sorry for knocking you down too,” she said, straightening her own top. She smiled up at him, and Jon swore he could see another blush spreading up Damian’s neck. “It's actually kind of nice not being the clumsy one in a first encounter.”

“Your form was excellent, please do not apologise,” he said, sounding almost earnest. He reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, making her giggle again. “As I have been rude, I feel I must apologise in a more substantial manner. Perhaps I may accompany you in getting a drink?”

If he could move, Jon's jaw would be on the floor. If it hadn't been for the fact that the other batboys were stood near him with identical looks of astonishment on their faces, he would have assumed he was dreaming. He glanced at Alya who had finished filming and was shaking her head lightly whilst taking a sip of her drink.

“What just happened?” He asked as Damian and Mari walked towards the bar together. She was holding onto his arm as they weaved through the crowd, and he was glaring at anyone who stepped too close to her. If it wasn't extremely disconcerting, he'd say it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

“You know, I'm used to the first part where she sweeps a guy off his feet,” Alya said contemplatively before draining her own glass. “But the second part where she agreed to get a drink is new.”

“So that really just happened?” Jason asked, still staring after the pair and voicing the thought all of them were thinking. “And that's not another clone or whatever, that's our Demon Spawn?”

“How…” Dick looked like he was torn between agreeing with Jason and squealing about Damian flirting with someone. As they all watched, Mari said something animatedly and Damian nodded, saying something back. 

The pair stayed at the bar for over an hour, Damian moving incrementally closer to Mari. Jon checked in periodically with his super hearing but every time he did they seemed to be chatting about increasingly strange topics. 

He did glance over when the hour Damian had promised to be there was up, wondering if he would disappear now, and was again shocked to see Mari pulling Damian onto the dance floor. He darted towards them, expecting to have to get involved but then Damian was holding onto her waist as a slower song came on.

Deciding he was just going to have to ask his best friend for a rundown the following day, he decided he needed another drink.

Part 2

[gracethefoundfamilyfan]

Adrien hates walls.

His prison of a house? Walls.

His father’s closed office door? Wall.

His mother’s room? Oh, look, more solid walls.

The garden? Don’t even TRY.

He escapes through Chat Noir, but then—

Ladybug. Wall. Wall upon wall upon wall. At first it was just their secret identities. He could manage one more isolation.

But now it’s hundreds, layers upon layers of mistrust and lies that pile up until they’re almost more oppressive than the bars that close him in for real.

Any friends? His own secret identity is a massive, glaring, ugly barrier.

Maybe, just maybe, they’re never going to move. Maybe he’s meant to stay walked in. Hidden. Forgotten.

“I love you just the way you are,” he says. One wall down. Only it’s not, because apparently Marinette has walls too, and they’re going up faster than he can stop them. He’s hopeless, helpless, alone. Walled in.

And he’s starting to get claustrophobic. He’s stuck, in every way imaginable. He can’t move. He can’t fight for one love without ruining another. He can’t fight for one life without leaving a gaping hole behind in the other.

But he can’t keep filling all these gaps. His existence is like the plug in three dams, all connecting at one point—

His identity.

The same thing that’s keeping him afloat is also crushing him, leaving him gasping for air and floundering for a foothold even as the walls close in.

His father asks about his ring, and in that moment, Adrien makes his choice. Trembling, clenching his arms tight around himself to hide it, staring his father (his creator) in the eyes, he plants himself between the window (freedom) and his father (the cause of all of his heartache, really, although he doesn’t know it yet.)

“You’d know I’ve been wearing this ring for a long time if you paid any attention to me, father.” He snaps.

His father leaves.

He’s shaking. His mind is spinning. He feels an ache of ‘wrong, wrong, wrong’ growing deep in his gut. Maybe he throws up, he doesn’t know for sure. But he’s done it.

The first step.

Was it Plagg who told him even the smallest force can start the biggest quake?

Maybe, Adrien thinks for the first time, destruction isn’t something to be feared. It’s something to be celebrated, used, enjoyed. It’s catsclysming the iron bars slamming down around him. It’s fighting back. It’s freedom.

Destruction is freedom. (How had he never seen it before?)

Sure, this time it was out of pure fear. Part of him never wants to speak again. A large part of him still nurses the idea of running away, hiding, where there’s no one to hurt and nothing to fear. But the larger part of him (by a small margin) is shaking not from fear but excitement. Thrill. Adrenaline. He’s realized, for the first time in his false life, that he can rebel.

This first crack in the facade was made out of fear. But the rest will be planned, in a beautiful cascade of reckless emotion and anger (that he now lets himself embrace for the first time, lets it fill him, swell in his soul, give him strength) and love that will bring the world tumbling down so that he can recreate it in the way it ought to be.

(It’s not until Ladybug breaks down and he crumples with her, eyes red-rimmed with frustrated tears and an aching loneliness that never leaves, that he learns of the other implications of such thoughts. What he could become, did he not love the right people.)

But no matter. Because he does love the right people. And he believes they can best the odds.

And Ladybug, somehow, with her trembling lower lip and fearful doe eyes, gives him the strength (he has to protect her at all costs) to fight for the future he sees for both of them. It’s her and him against the world.

She trusts him, somehow.

What does he have to lose?

[airi-p4]

Sweep Sweep

Hi! New short lukanette fic!

Summary: Marinette is surprised to see that Luka doesn't know how to clean so she offers him her help (and something more).

AO3

(Thank you @celestiall0tus for checking it for me!)

Enjoy?

_________________________

The first time Marinette saw Luka cleaning, she hadn't been paying much attention: she had been distracted and embarrassed by the turnout of Adrien's boys party and her stupid crush on the blond boy to notice anything else. 

The second time she saw it, it was at the Liberty. Her past crush on Adrien forgotten, Marinette greatly enjoyed hanging out with her favorite band’s friends. And sure, she couldn't deny the growing affection and the fastening heartbeats she had started to notice around Kitty Section’s guitarist -the butterflies on the stomach made her feelings quite obvious to her, too. 

New. Refreshing. Happy.

That time, their first official concert had ended, and fireworks were displayed afterwards for the celebration party. By the evening, confetti was all scattered on the deck, along with used paper cups, pizza boxes, empty snacks bags and candy wrappers- which meant cleaning time. It was very convenient that the captain was distracted (being scolded and fined) by agent Roger- because yes, you can't fire ship cannons (or cannons in general) in Paris, even if it's only fireworks.

So meanwhile, everyone diligently got to work, their cleaning tools and trash bags ready as they paired up and took their positions. There was a broom on Luka's hands and- Oh, clumsy her!- Marinette accidentally stepped on it, her body spinning and falling on the blue-haired boy, who hit the floor on his back. Her heartbeats were loud, the proximity of his face to hers made her fluster with red, and she had no doubts that reaction was most likely noticed by the observant boy lying down under her. Despite the warmth on her cheeks, she couldn't help it but to glance at his lips and stare in his eyes and, lost in them, she leaned closer towards him. Seeing him move too just before closing her eyes, she had expected to meet him halfway, but before that could happen… 

*beep beep* 

She had to run because of an akuma. Just her luck. She cursed, and with one of her unbelievable excuses, she left in a rush. She hated the thought of her friends thinking that she just left because she didn't want to help with the cleaning- but on the next day, she found out Luka covered for her lie and had protected her from getting a negative impression. In result, she was charged with more tasks than usual (such as baking cookies for the band) as a “penalty”. She didn't think it was possible, but she fell a little more for Luka that day.

And then, the time she actually saw it for real arrived.

It was the third time Marinette saw Luka cleaning, the first time she actually looked -no accidents, no unwanted boys or akumas- and she couldn't believe her eyes. 

They had been at the bakery, baking cookies together, and playfully painting each other’s faces with flour and chocolate. Marinette had to admit the chocolate at the tip of Luka's nose looked adorable, almost as the heart shaped chocolate mark on her right cheek. Fun. Cookies were a success but the kitchen a messy flour disaster… 

Which meant time to clean up.

She had been wondering: why did Luka have a  “penalty” too if he was there to clean? Was it solidarity? Pity? Or maybe he wanted to spend time with her…? She had blushed at the thought. But then, looking at him in her house’s kitchen she understood it: Luka couldn't sweep. Well- sure, he did sweep, but the way he held the broom, the way he grabbed and moved it… everything was JUST WRONG. Wrong and inefficient. Embarrassing, even. No wonder she had tripped on it that past day! And no wonder he had a penalty too! What a disaster! After a minute, she couldn't bare to watch anymore.

“Luka! That's not how you do it!” Marinette finally squeaked, almost scandalized. “You have to-'' she took the broom from Luka's hands, pretending their fingers didn't brush while doing so so she could focus on her task and show him how to do it properly. His attentive eyes on her as she moved were making her a bit nervous.

“Okay” Luka nodded. He took back the broom and tried to imitate what Marinette had done as she observed. He needed practice. Okay-a lot of practice. How can anybody be so bad at sweeping the floor!? She wondered.

“Luka. You don't know how to sweep at all…?” Marinette finally asked. And the boy blushed bright red (an extremely rare sight!) and nodded as he sank between his shoulders. “What!? How!? Why!?”

“Sorry. I- You know my mom, Marinette. She has never taught me or Juleka how to properly do it. She even scolded us when she saw us clean. And with no one else to ask… Of course Jules and I do some cleaning, don't get us wrong! We both take turns to clean whenever mom isn't home. Juleka has learned a bit from Rose but I've always been embarrassed to ask for help so I just know the basics…”

‘You can't call that “the basics”!’ Marinette thought. But well, that made sense. She knew how Anarka did clean the kitchen, do the dishes, the laundry and the bathroom. But she loved chaos and freedom, so she was against cleaning when it came to dust and reorganizing, sweeping the floor included.

“Do you want me to teach you, Luka?” Marinette offered.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Of course!”

“Oh but- there's more than sweeping, Marinette… Certain cooking tools or persistent dirt- or worse, the clothes’ colors or sizes changed after doing the laundry!”

Marinette started laughing loudly. “As far as I know how, I can teach you anything you want. And if I don't know, then we can learn together” her excited smile made him smile too.

“That sounds great, Marinette. I'll repay with guitar classes. Or pizza. Or anything you want”. 

“You don't need to repay me for this, Luka! But I'd really like that” she beamed. More time together? She didn't mind it. At all.

“It's settled then” he smiled back at her.

Then, she took another broom and started to sweep too. Each one started from one corner of the kitchen, slowly getting closer as she silently taught him while exchanging shy gazes. A moment later, they finally met and the top of their brooms bumped together. Face to face, blushing, with the sole sound of their fastening heartbeats, she looked down at the floor, feeling his eyes on her. Their bodies were close as their brooms tangled together- not working anymore at that point. 

“Marinette… there's chocolate on your face. Can I clean it?” Her heart skipped at the feel of his warm breath on her forehead. All she could do was shyly nod and suddenly, his hand was on her cheek, warm, caressing there tenderly- the rub of his thumb too soft to clean anything at all, she knew. Was he actually trying to clean it or maybe he- Could it be that their feelings were really mutual? She wanted to see- to know- his facial expression. 

Curiosity became courage, and Marinette raised her face up until their eyes finally met with the most adoring, bittersweet and loving gaze she had ever seen on Luka. And that was all she needed to know. Her blush and bewilderment didn't stop her getting on her tiptoes and raising to give him a peck on his cheek- a peck too that lasted too long to be expected to have a friendly meaning, she knew and he suspected. How she blushed even more and avoided his eyes seconded his suspicions for him. 

“Marinette…” he said in a whisper. And without words, only with his fingers, he encouraged her chin to raise up again. His face was even closer now, a questioning expression on him which she had no trouble to understand. In response, she lifted her chin even more and closed her eyes, finally offering him his answer and what both of them had been waiting for a long while- too long. 

Slowly but surely, he moved. His free hand impatiently moved to her back, raising to secure her in his arms and making both brooms fall to the floor with the movement, at the same time she raised on her tiptoes and their lips finally met at last. Their kiss was everything they wished for, and surprisingly better than they could have ever imagined. Only their smiles and happy faces topped such brightness as they hugged tenderly before kissing once again.

From then on, the cleaning teachings continued. And if Luka was doing it bad on purpose to spend more time with his girlfriend, he didn't say. And Marinette definitely didn't complain either when she realized what he was doing, especially when those lessons always ended with lots of kisses. 

Sweeping their love inwards home- both benefited from it.

Fin

[mlb-a-rewrite]

Miraculous Ladybug: A Rewrite; Episode 1

Origins

Synopsis: A new school year has begun and someone new has joined Marinette's class. Adrien Agreste, a child model Marinette has fangirled over since she was little, now sits behind her in class, but he's different than she thought he'd be. She isn't given any time to worry about this though, as something magical has entered her life that might change it forever.

Villain: Mr. Pigeon

Pigeon caller/whistle

Can mentally control pigeons after blowing his pigeon caller 

Conflict: Adrien and Marinette decide if they will be heroes + Marinette learns to be nice to Adrien + Defeating Mr. Pigeon.

Key Events/Scenes:

Ladybug (LB) and Chat (Noir) are introduced

At the end of the episode, Chloe tries to be bitchy to Marinette but she stands up for herself and Alya is like “way to go girl”. It’s not like the whole class cheers and rallies behind Marinette; it's a personal step.

UMBRELLA SCENE!!

Notes:

Marinette fangirled over Adrien like most teenagers follow celebrity crushes (idfk my aroace ass wasn’t built for this). She liked him in theory and whatnot but when she actually sees him and interacts with him a couple of things happen

One, she realizes he is a real person

Two, she realizes she knows personal details (that he shared publicly, she didn’t stalk him) about him

Third, she realizes she knows a lot of personal information about someone she has never met before, and finally

Fourth, she is incredibly uncomfortable with all this. She realizes she was treating Adrien like he wasn’t real and so it was okay to say how in love she was or have pictures of him in her room but now that she’s met him it feels strange.

So at first, Marinette is kinda rude to Adrien. She distances herself from him and is standoffish because she doesn’t know how to act around him. She feels weird and gross (even if she wasn’t doing anything wrong or abnormal) and so she kinda avoids him

This takes the place of the whole gum thing in the original Origins. During the umbrella scene Adrien is basically like, “I don’t know what I did to bother you, but I’m sorry and I hope we can be friends” and then instead of, like, falling in love with him, Marinette realizes she was being an asshole and tries to slowly open up to being his friend

She is still awkward and uncomfortable at first, but she makes an effort to push past it and be friendlier with him and that awkwardness slowly fades away

Adrien/Chat Noir is so terrified the entire time he is transformed. He is very hesitant to do anything in fear of causing problems/stepping out of line

By the end of the episode, Adrien/Chat is a little more confident but it is barely noticeable.

He’s used to following orders and being told what to do and not doing anything wrong and being Chat Noir feels inherently wrong to him so he’s very hesitant to do anything in fear of messing up or being in the way.

LB is very clumsy and doesn't know how to deakumatize so she just captures the akuma in a little plastic box

Hawkmoth eventually deakumatizes it himself. She doesn’t really have any knowledge that he is doing it and thinks they just like, run out of battery and eventually revert back to normal, and then she releases them

Deakumatization is Marinette’s third power she hasn’t unlocked yet. (See my post Miraculous Make No Sense for more information)

Also when Tikki/Plagg are talking to Marinette/Adrien to convince them to be heroes, Mari/Adrien ask about their secret identities and the Kwamis explain that people need a reason to suspect their true identities

So people can look at an image of Marinette and Ladybug side by side, and unless they have a reason to suspect that Marinette is Ladybug, they won’t

So if someone sees Marinette run into a bathroom, a flash of light, and then Ladybug run out, they have pretty solid proof that Marinette is Ladybug, and if they truly believe that Marinette is Ladybug, the face blindness goes away and they can clearly see they are the same person

This makes it so they can still have their secret identities but they have to be careful about it.

[ilikekidsshows]

5. What's a fanfic idea you have that you'll never write?

Fan Fic Writer Asks

Any ideas I had for Miraculous Ladybug fics before the show went down the toilet and made me lose all motivation to write fics for it, but I think the biggest loss for me was "The Brave, The Bold and The Miraculous" concept, which was a Kwami Swap AU where Alya and Nino get chosen as Ladybug and Cat Noir respectively.

Concepts for scenes and stories I came up with under the cut.

Alya tells Marinette about her being Ladybug straight away "But, Tikki. You don't understand. Marinette is my girl."

Nino starts crushing on Alya after Alya defends Marinette against Chloé Alya falls hard for her mysterious superhero partner: "What can I say, a guy in a mask is kinda suave." Alya realizes Black Cat is Nino when she sees him treat Adrien so gently after Picture Perfect Alya and Nino are equal partners from the get go and Nino also gets to pick supporting heroes: Alya keeps picking Marinette and wants to find the perfect Miraculous for her and Nino picks Adrien for the Bee.

Season one finale: Adrien gets Akumatized into Picture Perfect, who collects a "doll house" filled with new family memebers ~ Marinette and Nino as the new parents ~ Gabriel hears from Nooroo that the Butterfly Miraculous can be used to lessen emotional turmoil: Gabriel Akumatizes Adrien with the intention of getting rid of his negative emotions ~ Adrien becomes plastic as Picture Perfect

Volpina Marinette: "You can't actually give Lila a platform!" Alya: "And how will I reject her? I'd have to out myself to have actual proof that she's not Ladybug's best friend. Besides, I doubt anyone's gonna think she's much more than a zealous fan." M: "But if you don't publish the interview, she can't use the interview to impress Adrien and then they won't fall in love." A: "You think Adrien would believe it?" Nino: "Believe what?" A: "Nino! The new girl Lila says she's Ladybug's bestie but we think she's full of it. Your thoughts?" N: "I have no reason not to believe it." M: "What about Adrien? Do you think he'd be won over by something like that?" N: laugh "Definitely, not, he's a celebrity himself, so I doubt he'd get starstruck over someone knowing someone. Besides, I'm pretty sure he prefers Black Cat." A: "I bet he does." N: "What was that?" A: "Uh, that's good! Perfect even!"

Adrien becomes the Bee holder Nino: "I have the perfect person in mind, but I don't know which Miraculous would fit them best." Fu: "To a person with a truly heroic spirit, the Miraculous does not matter. They will make it work for them eventually."

Possible OT4 ending for Alya, Nino, Adrien and Marinette

[chocoluckchipz]

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Thank you for the tag @ladyofthenoodle! It was so much fun to see how misleading the first lines can be in regards to the whole premise of the story. XD

1. His feline ears twitched. He’d been spotted. - Dreams of You

2. He could buy all the beds in this resort, together with all the chairs, desks, and wardrobes. Heck, he could pay for all the furniture on this damn island. Together with its few resorts. - dared not to remember your name (you found me anyway)

3. No one had ever seen a kwami. - May I introduce myself, Your Highness?

4. Adrien shouldn't be nervous. It was supposed to be the happiest day of his life. - My One and Only. My One True Love.

5. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was waiting for him, opening the hatch to her balcony mere seconds after he scratched at it. - I Want to be Your Cat

6. It had to be a mirage. Eyes like these simply couldn’t exist. The deepest blue he’d ever seen, warm and inviting with a rainbow sparkling inside them. The most precious of jewels. A treasure, really. Too bad it was nothing but a hallucination. - Together

7. “Why the long face, Mister?” - Perhaps, It’s Time

8. He couldn’t say yes. It didn't matter that he loved her more than he could ever express; more than he ever loved anyone. Him slowly falling for this girl these past few months was of no importance. That she had slowly become his everything had no significance. His love. His Princess. His Marinette. It didn’t matter. Not in the slightest. All because he couldn't lie to her. And saying Yes right now would force him to do just that. - Rain

9. The day Marinette met Adrien Agreste—the hottest supermodel alive, an only son of fashion icon Gabriel Agreste, and her long-time, embarrassing celebrity crush—was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. - Not a spying, not a fake date

10. Gabriel Agreste’s death had been sudden, and unexpected. - The Other You

Tagging @thelibraryloser, @thenovelartist, @botherkupo, @kasienda, @jennagrinsoverml

[kasienda]

Celebrity Status - Ch 11: Don't Cry

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Read on Ao3

This chapter was written for @ladrienjune Day 22: Fragile. One scene gave me some grief, so I'm again late. But I'm super excited to bring this update to you! I had a lot of fun with it.

Chapter 11: Don't Cry

Marinette read through her handwritten note only to immediately crush it into a ball. It said too much. If anyone ever read it, they’d know Adrien was the perfect hostage for Ladybug. She couldn’t commit any of that to paper. 

But she couldn’t visit him either. The scandal itself proved that even when they thought they were alone someone might see. And anyone seeing her coming and going from the mansion at all, and his window in particular would be just as incriminating as a love letter.

Her throat clogged closed as the tears took over again. She didn’t know how many times she had fallen to pieces. She had lost count. It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t even break up with him properly! The world had to steal that from her as well? 

But she had to tell him something . She grabbed another piece of paper, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks. 

…

Adrien didn’t want to go to school the next day. He was dreading more paparazzi, especially when he couldn’t let them catch him at a low moment.

He hadn’t been thinking of Ladybug breaking up with him. In his mind, she already had. And so, when he opened his locker and a pink piece of paper folded in a tent sat on his textbooks, he was unprepared. 

He didn’t even want to open it. He wasn’t sure what she would say, but he knew it meant she absolutely wouldn’t show up at his bedroom window again.

And that thought was enough to inspire a burn behind his eyes. He blinked it away before forcing himself to flip the paper open. 

There is so much more I want to tell you, so much more you deserve to hear face to face. 

And I can’t. You already know why. 

I’m sorry. 

It wasn’t signed. It didn’t need to be, of course. He knew who it was from and he didn’t need an explanation. She had explained it to him the night before. But still, this made it official. 

The words on the page blurred, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed. If he wanted his and Ladybug’s story to be believed he couldn’t be caught crying in the hallway. But maybe he needed to find a closet because even though he had long ago given up hope of ever winning Ladybug’s heart, now that he had, he didn’t know how to give it up.

It was his own fault. It was one thing to kiss her in the privacy of his own room. He never should have kissed her in public. He knew that. Just in that moment, his heart had still been pumping from the adrenaline of the battle, and she always looked so beautiful when she was coming down off a win.

And he never got to kiss her as Chat Noir. 

He blinked rapidly, and pressed his thumb and finger to his eyes. He couldn’t cry. He could cry later, in the cover of his own room. 

A hand squeezed his arm. He looked up into Marinette’s concerned gaze. Were her eyes glassy, too? Maybe his vision was just too watery to be able to tell. 

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He smiled sadly at her and shook his head. “Not really, but today I think I need to do a really good job of pretending.” 

It was the type of thing he usually never said out loud, not even to his friends. But Ladybug had said he needed to trust his friends more, and he was more confident than ever that one of them was her! She got that note into his locker somehow.  

Which meant Ladybug knew him. They were friends. She had a crush on him before she had ever visited him as Ladybug. 

He respected her too much to try and figure out her identity, but she was close by and likely still in his life in some fashion even if she wasn’t going to pop into his bedroom window anymore. 

“Will you help me?” he asked. 

Marinette smiled at him and offered her hand, which he took. “Always.”

She held his hand all the way to class. They paused right outside the door. 

“You ready?” she asked. 

What would their classmates even be saying today? Would they want more details about his relationship with other ladybug? Would they ask about his pronouns? 

He took a breath, and made himself nod. 

She let go of his hand to open the door, and gestured grandly for him to enter first.

He needed himself as he entered and went to his seat. Everyone minus him and Marinette were already seated talking loudly amongst themselves. They ignored his entrance completely. No glances, no comments. 

The tension in his shoulders relaxed just a smidgeon. He knew everything would blow over eventually. Could he be lucky enough for it to have already happened? 

“Hey mec,” Nino greeted with his usual smile. “How you holding up?” 

“I-I’m fine.” 

Nino clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, I’m still gonna treat you to lunch.” 

Class was long. Adrien couldn’t focus on any of it. All he could think about was the pink note burning a hole in his backpack. 

The burn behind his eyes was returning, and his throat lodged closed. 

Don’t cry.

A paper ball hit him upside the head. 

He whirled around. 

Marinette’s desk was covered in crumpled paper balls. 

She tossed another one - this one met for him to catch, which he did. 

She mimed opening it.

He turned around and pressed the paper reasonably flat. 

It was covered in chibi versions of her and him telling each other stupid jokes. His kind of jokes. 

He barked a laugh. 

“M. Agreste, will you join us for the task at hand?” 

Adrien cleared his throat. “Yes, Mme. Bustier.” 

He waited another minute before he turned back around to mouth, “thank you.” 

She smiled at him and tossed him another paper ball. 

Her drawings were so cute. It was almost a shame that they were crumpled up. 

She seemed to know exactly what he needed to be cheered up. 

He was almost sad when the lunch bell rang and she and Alya headed off for their own meal. Could they not have all four gone together? 

…

It was difficult for Marinette to say good-bye to Adrien knowing he was hurting. It didn’t matter that she thought she had been pretty successful in cheering him up, or at least keeping him distracted because she was the reason he was hurting.

But she also wasn’t going to miss this lunch with Alya. Alya was worth it to her, Alya was worth everything.

They walked to a little cafe just a block away from school. 

“My treat?” Marinette offered as they approached the register to give their orders. 

Alya smirked. “Sure. I’ll take you up on that.” 

Orders placed, they found a table and sat across from each other with their drinks. 

“You and Adrien looked quite cozy this morning,” Alya teased.

Marinette shook her head. “It wasn’t like that. He’s genuinely hurting right now.” 

Alya nodded. “Yeah, and I imagine he really appreciates you being there for him.”

Marinette forced herself to smile. The sentiment would have resonated more if Marinette hadn’t been the one to break his heart. 

“But we’re not here to talk about Adrien,” Alya said. “We’re here to talk about us.” 

Marinette fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “What do you want to talk about?” But she already knew.

Alya considered her for a moment. “I’m not trying to corner you, you know. As frustrating as your disappearing act can be, I’m also really worried about you. You’ve seemed really on edge and stressed, and it just doesn’t seem like whatever is going on is good for you.” 

Marinette wanted to cry and to laugh at the same time. 

Alya wasn’t wrong.

“Can you tell me what happened with my Award Ceremony?” Alya asked. 

Marinette tensed. She wasn’t going to get through this conversation, was she? Her eyes burned with threatened tears. 

“Because no matter how I think about it, it doesn’t make sense,” Alya said. 

“It’s like I said before. I panicked. It wasn’t about anything in particular. Just the idea of being in that room with all those people filled me dread.” 

Alya shook her head. “This isn’t anxiety. You don’t run from me during anxiety. You would have told me that instead of feeding me a lie about being grounded. Please tell me what’s going on!”

“I can’t! ” Marinette cried. “I can’t tell you this,” she said again, more softly.

Alya stared at her. “So, you admit there is something, that you have been lying.” 

Marinette’s nails dug into her thigh, and she looked everywhere, but at Alya. She shouldn’t have even admitted that much. 

Alya sighed. “I realize you don’t have to tell me everything. But it bothers me when you lie. And it bothers me that whatever it is, it’s constant. I can’t keep letting it slide without an explanation. Because the truth is you’re unreliable. And you’re just not here when I need you. And that just makes me feel like I can’t trust you.”

Marinette searched for words, but none came. 

A second later it didn’t matter because an akuma alert went off on every phone in the dining room. Marinette slumped in her seat.

“Just go,” she says, feeling defeated. If Alya left first, maybe she wouldn’t be pissed at Marinette later. 

But Alya just flipped her phone over. 

“There will be other akumas,” Alya said. “This friendship is more important to me.” 

Marinette’s mouth fell open. Even though it was really inconvenient at the moment, Marinette couldn’t help but feel touched by the gesture. “Alya, it’s fine–” 

Chat Noir slammed into the building across the street, and Marinette jumped to her feet. She had to go.

“Marinette?” 

“Alya, I’m so sorry.” 

“Marinette,” Alya said tightly through gritted teeth. 

“I have to go.” 

…

The akuma was taken care of in minutes once Ladybug had shown up. She seemed to be in just as much of a rush and him. They barely touched fists before they were bolting away from the scene.

At least, Hawkmoth had the courtesy to send out an akuma during the lunch hour when it was a bit easier to get away, instead of during class. Nino gave him more grace than his bodyguard. Nino never demanded answers. 

But it still sucked. He didn’t get a lot of time with his friends as it was, and today in particular he wanted the comfort of their presence.

Adrien had barely sat back down across from Nino, when Alya dropped heavily into the seat next to Nino. 

Nino’s brows furrowed. “Babe? I thought you were having your make-up lunch with Marinette?” 

Adrien frowned. Make-up lunch? 

Her phone went off. Marinette’s face lit up the screen. Alya answered immediately. "I don't want to hear it, Marinette." Alya growled into the phone. "Don't call me unless you want to tell me what's going on!" 

She flipped it definitively closed.

Nino winced. “Went that badly, huh?” 

Alya buried her face in her palms. “I just don’t understand!” 

"What's going on?" Adrien asked. "You and Marinette are fighting?"

Nino was the one who answered. "Yeah, it's been going on for a while now."

Adrien was shocked. How had he missed this? Alya and Marinette sat right behind him every day. Had he really been that wrapped up in Ladybug that he missed what was going on with his friends?

He felt especially guilty because Marinette had noticed his hurt, his pain, and had metaphorically held his hand all morning. 

"How could anyone ever be mad at Marinette?" he muttered under his breath.

How long had she been hurting when he hadn’t even noticed?

"Dude!" Nino hissed.

"Don't start with me, Agreste!" Alya rounded on him. "Talk to me after Marinette's stood you up three times in one week! That girl is so flakey!"

"Marinette? Flakey?" Adrien repeated, confused.

"She’s worse than you," Nino offered.

"Marinette's never stood me up," he countered, still confused. If anything, he was guilty of running out on her a time or two - cost of the double life. He was apparently "luckier" than Ladybug though with the ready-made excuse of an overly strict and controlling father, so while his friends were often disappointed, they weren't typically mad at him .

"Dude! Not helping!"

"Exactly! She would never stand you up! Not the guy she has a crush on! But me ?"

"Marinette has a crush on me?" Adrien whispered. 

Alya ignored him in favor of continuing her rant. "She couldn’t bother to show up to my Award’s Ceremony. She lied to me the day before, saying she was grounded. But she wasn’t! Why would she lie about that?”

“Marinette didn’t go to your Ladybug Award Ceremony?” Adrien echoed. That didn’t make sense. Marinette had been so excited about that. She had been beaming and bouncing in her seat almost more than Alya the day they had all learned about it. 

“Then, it felt like we were actually getting somewhere during lunch. She admitted - finally - that she lied. But then she up’s and leaves in the middle of the conversation–”

It was all starting to make some kind of horrifying sense.

“During the akuma?” Adrien asked, holding his breath. 

“Yes! The akuma! Which I didn’t run off to because I thought she was more important! But apparently, I’m the only one who feels that way. Real friends would make time for one another. Like, I have always done for her!”

"I'm in so much trouble," he muttered.

"What are you talking about, Agreste?"

"Nothing! I just remembered something I have to do! My uh... father is going to kill me! I'm sorry guys!" he ripped out his wallet and handed off a credit card. "Go have a date! It's on me! Spare no expense!"

And he was running back the way he came.

"I swear to God, Nino! Is it me? What do I do that drives off all our friends?!"

He was too far away to hear Nino's response.

It didn’t matter. Because right now, he needed to find Marinette. 

Who was Ladybug. 

…

[aldbooks]

Miraculous Masterlist

Miraculous Ladybug 🐞

AO3 tiggertink08

Beginnings - T - 14/14 chapters - 43,242 words

The start of Marichat. Takes place after the events of Troublemaker, following the photo shoot Adrien invites Marinette to attend.

As Time Goes On - M - 20/20 - 66,976 words

After 3 long years, Hawkmoth is finally defeated, but before Ladybug can reveal herself to her partner, Chat Noir disappears.

Just My Luck - M - 22/22 - 74,424 words

23 year old Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been in love with her superhero partner Chat Noir since she was a teenager. Since they weren't able to be together, she had tried to find happiness with others over the years to no avail.

While celebrating her new internship at Gabriel with her best friend Alya, she meets a handsome young man who bears a striking resemblance to her partner. Not usually one for casual flings, she decides to indulge her long time fantasies with him, and they share a memorable night together.

Even though she can't seem to stop thinking about that night, she never expected to see him again. That is, until she comes face to face with him on her first day, and discovers he's none other than the famous son of her new boss.

I Wanna Be Bad - T - 2/2 - 15,174

After Lila finally makes good on her promise to take Marinette's friends away from her, Hawkmoth finally succeeds in akumatizing her. With Ladybug temporarily out of commission, Chat Noir is going to need all the help he can get.

Tell Me Lies - M - 14/? - 47,219 words - indefinite hiatus

After an embarrassingly public misunderstanding begins a storm of rumors about famous model Adrien Agreste and the girl he was seen kissing, Adrien's father comes up with the perfect solution to save his reputation. A fake relationship.

The only problem is, the longer the ruse continues, the more real feelings start to seep in, complicating what should have a been a simple and easy arrangement. Will something that started with an accident and a lie, produce something genuine? Or will all of the secrecy and deceit poison the well?

That’s what you get for waking up in Vegas - 14/? - 45,849 words - indefinite hiatus

The gang takes a trip to Vegas to celebrate the end of university and Alya and Nino’s upcoming wedding.

Marinette and Adrien learn that what happens in Vegas, doesn’t always stay there.

Miraculeux - E - 23/? - 76,711 words - indefinite hiatus but it’s more or less finished

Model Adrien Agreste is the silent co-owner of the hottest, most exclusive exotic dance joint in town where even the clients use masks and pseudonyms to conceal their identity. There he secretly masquerades as Chat Noir on the weekends.

His oft-times dance partner, M'Lady is crushing big time on him, while he has fallen for his father's newest intern, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who only sees him as a friend.

[sirani-8927]

Why I dislike Marc (and why Marcnath isn't my favorite Nathaniel ship)

I didn't feel any "hype" for Marc when he was first introduced. I only really like him in fanfics, but even then, I've only read one fanfic that has multiple long chapters where he's one of the main characters. He's just never interested me as a character. And I've been thinking about it for the past few days and I'm pretty sure I've figured it out: Marc doesn't feel like a full, individual character.

From his first introduction as a character, he's looking at Nath's art while writing. Then Marinette comes in and drags him to the art club. After that, she's the one to try and team them up. We only get to see him floundering around his crush and then crying after Nath confronts him (rightfully so). And then he's akumatized for the rest of the episode. We don't see him make many of his own choices until the end. It would've been nice to see him choose to go to the art club or make the choice to erase his name himself or something to give an insight into his character. In the ending, he leads his and Nathaniel's part of the conversation, which feels out of character for both of them (which I'll explain later). Throughout the episode, he came across as a somewhat cowardly personality, but now he's leading their speeches/conversations with ease. He's never been introduced as an individual with his personality up until Penalteam. In the episodes previous to that he only shows up when Nath's on screen.

Compare that to characters like Lila, Felix, or Luka. They all have defining character moments and can be seen as individuals outside of other characters in their very first episodes.

In Volpina, Lila is more than a liar. She's crafty, buying a necklace that looks just like a miraculous. She somehow deciphered enough of the Grimoire in a single afternoon to know what powers the fox miraculous has, compared to the literal years Gabriel owned the book. She told lies to her classmates that appealed to each of their individual interests. We know she's not easily forgiving, which makes sense. She was publicly humiliated in front of her celebrity crush and thrown in a fountain. We can tell what she's all about from just her introduction alone.

In Félix, we can immediately tell that he's a more serious counterpart to Adrien. Throughout the episode, he demonstrates his talents, pretending to be Adrien with enough accuracy to throw off his classmates he's spent nearly a full year around. He's great at fighting hand-to-hand, seeing as he fends off 3 akumas on his own. And we see at the end that he was willing to do everything he did because his mom wanted the twin rings. Keep in mind that we didn't even know why she wanted them at the time. With the context of S5 spoilers (cause I haven't watched an episode of s5 after Evolution), we know that it's where his Amok is hidden. So, he was willing to do all of that and still trusted his mother with his own amok. The point is that he's immediately set apart from Adrien. He's not just a swapped version of Adrien. We get the sense that he knows more than we're let on.

In Captain Hardrock, we're introduced to Luka, who's meditating, so we know he's someone who values calmness and (seeing how he wasn't with everyone else above deck) likes being alone. When he makes a joke, he immediately notices that it makes Marinette uncomfortable and apologizes. Later on in the episode, he immediately asks Ladybug if Marinette is okay, while no one else expresses the same sentiment. I can see this being an argument about his feelings for her, but I feel that it's just him having been in his head about everything going on. He has no clue that Marinette is safe and given that his mother is just destroying any bridge or noise-making venue she can see, he's just rightfully worried that some girl his sister is friends with might be hurt or dead. Overall, we can tell he's a good guy who's got a sort of chill personality

While I can say that Lila's a liar with good deduction skills, Luka's an outwardly calm guy who likes making jokes but knows when to back off, and Felix is a manipulative, martial artist mama's boy who knows way too much, I can't say much about Marc as an individual. The most I can say is he's a writer who isn't very confident in anything.

Except I can't because he immediately acts confident by the end of the episode while Nathaniel loses his own characterization and they become this weird hivemind with Marc at the forefront.

Speaking of Nathaniel, we get his whole personality from the beginning. In Evillustrator, he spaces out, writing his cringy superhero comic. When Chloe mocks his art, he defends himself and grabs his book. I think his walk of shame in that episode is misinterpreted as him being shy, but I don't think that's the case. In context, it looked more like he was just embarrassed that he got caught drawing a comic about his crush and sent it to the principal over it. Another character moment for him is in Rogercop, where he's once again caught with a drawing that could incriminate him. He defends himself immediately. Then, in Horrificator, he breaks from the group briefly to do something on his own, like investigating the good in the room. Even though seconds before that, he was initially horrified.

In Befana, he joins the group's efforts in both setting up Mar's birthday party and trying to apprehend the Akuma.

In Zombizou, he's seen being initially aggressive with another boy, and later in the episode, he breaks off from the group before they even leave the school (and if Asstruc's Twitter is to be believed, he managed to survive on his own).

In Despair Bear, Nathaniel is shown enjoying the party on his own to the side. Even though we know he's friends with Alix and some of the other classmates, he's alone and doesn't seem to mind. Actually, looking at any of the class hangouts, he always shows up with the rest of the class. He's just doing his own thing, watching everyone else.

Up until the End of Reverser, he's established as an artist who can and will defend himself and likes to do his own thing (even if it's reckless). He's a guy who's been bullied enough to resort to anger when his trust is broken as a first response, and seems to like going to social events, as long as he's not pressured to do anything he doesn't want to.

Comparing him in Despair Bear to Party Crasher though, he bails on Mylène with Marc and shows up to the party with Marc. He goes along with whatever Marc does. In Penalteam, he initially doesn't even want to join the class soccer game, yet he's dragged to the stadium by Marc cause that's what Marc wants to do. In the end, he joins the game with the other kids, though that's mostly from the influence of Ladybug and his earlier experience. Even in Gamer 2.0, he really wants to test Max's game, but Marc shuts it down when he asks. From previous character moments, it feels like that interaction should've played out differently. Nathaniel agrees immediately, but then Marc has to remind him that they have to meet an editor. That would've at least established a much-needed dynamic. Gabriel Agreste, Nathaniel is once again just waiting for his time to finish Marc's sentences.

Let's compare their 'dynamic' to the other queer couple in this show. Pulling from their Akuma episodes, Rose is shown to be an emotional girl with an optimistic and romantic view of life, while Juleka is shown to be more pessimistic, but still supportive of her girlfriend's viewpoints. These two are fun to watch, because Rose is loving and supportive of Juleka and tries to help her in Reflekta, and Juleka in turn seems to not mind Rose being emotional over Prince Ali and is even looking at her fondly while she does so. Compared to Julerose, it's kind of bland to watch Marcnath on screen together. Because they're always on the same page in a way that makes them a single, one-dimensional character. I prefer other ships, even though the rest aren't nearly as popular. Like Lukanath, or Ninath. As I said, Luka's the type of character who is in his head a lot and prefers solitude. Meanwhile, Nathaniel likes doing his own thing and can be a reckless person. They could play off each other well. Or with Ninath. Nino in s1 is a fun-loving dudebro who's a ride-or-die for all of his friends, but is also shown to do what he wants or thinks should be done without consulting others. I think it'd be cool to see where that friendship could've gone. We've seen them interacting in the background a few times (mostly in early seasons), one of the more recent episodes being Queen Banana. And in the official Alya Instagram post, they both seem to like indie movies and go to an event with a group. I wish we could see them interacting more.

I'm not saying all of this to make people hate Marc, but I am airing my personal gripes about his character. I'm not really attached to him and just kind of wanted to voice that. I also tried not to let my bias influence this post much. Here's a post on my old account of me analyzing him back in high school, I think. It's old, be warned.

[miraculousscarletwalker]

-Life as Ladybug-

When first becoming Ladybug and meeting Tikki, Marinette wasn't so sure if she's the right person for the Ladybug Miraculous and it should go to someone more confident than her. But when Ivan was akumatized into Stoneheart and Alya was nearly crushed by a car, Marinette was ready to accept her responsibility as Ladybug.

After saving the day and Hawkmoth making his speech about wanting the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous, Ladybug of course can't let this happen and promises to protect Paris from him no matter what. Time passes on from that promise and as she's getting used to having a secret identity now, Ladybug quickly grew into a household name becoming the hottest topic since Adrien's modeling career. From everyone at school, around Paris, even celebrities talk about Ladybug. Not to mention Alya starting the Ladyblog with nothing but content about Ladybug and Chat Noir. So what's wrong with this one? Easy, the fact that there's times when Marinette uses her powers as Ladybug for personal gain.

In the episode Volpina, new student Lila arrives and told Alya that she was best friends with Ladybug, which Alya recorded and put on the Ladyblog. But this was a problem for Marinette set on the backburner, her real problem was seeing Lila talking to Adrien. Marinette was automatically jealous of her and saw her as a threat to being with Adrien. After following them around school half the day and letting her jealousy stir some more, Marinette learns that Lila also lied to Adrien about being related to a superhero to impress him. Then saying, "I can't lose Adrien," Marinette transforms into Ladybug and decides to embarrass her in front of Adrien. It wasn't really because she lied, it wasn't because she planned to put Adrien in danger, nothing more than because she wanted Lila away from Adrien. Even Adrien himself told her that was harsh, plus Tikki was disappointed in her when she transformed back into Marinette.

So whether it's rejecting Chloe's praise over her or her strong feelings for Adrien, Ladybug thinks too much as Marinette over what should be handled as Marinette, not as a superhero that needs to keep her vow to the city of Paris. Not the best looks a superhero girl like herself should be seen in.

[p-artsypants]

Blurb #49

I'm going to try to share 70 blurbs from my WIPs and unfinished fics to celebrate reaching 70 posted fics! To help with this endeavor, please feel free to send me a word or a fandom you know I write for, and I'll share the blurb. IDK if I'll get 70 prompts, but let's try it! Send as many as you want!

This is from the unfinished next chapter of The Ghost of Smokey Joe.

He hadn’t even reached her before she burst into tears and flung her arms around him. “They fired me!” 

“YES!” Marinette blurted, without thinking. Truly, the lack of sleep was really getting to her. 

Alya looked at her, hurt. “What?” 

“I’m so so sorry!” Marinette rushed to console her. “No, sorry, I shouldn’t have cheered. I’m sorry you lost your job. I know you were really starting to enjoy your work there.” 

“What happened?” Nino asked, rubbing her arms. 

Alya sniffled and went to the tissue box. “Ugh, someone didn’t like one of the articles I wrote and complained to my boss. This person is very powerful, and so I was let go.” 

“Oh Al,” Nino comforted. “You knew that was a risk when you started for Newsweek.” 

“I know, and everyone was really apologetic about it, but…ugh! I hate it!” 

“Who complained?”

“No idea. Sounded like a politician though. With elections going on, it doesn’t take much for ego to get crushed.” She dabbed her eyes. “They still like me over there and said once things calm down, they might reach back out to hire me again.” 

Marinette sighed in disappointment. 

“What’s your problem?” Alya snapped. 

“Ugh, me and my big mouth.” Marinette shook her head. “Look, I’m not happy at you losing your job, I promise. But…I came over here to gripe about another assistant quitting on me. And when you said you got fired…” 

“Oh.” Alya considered this for a moment. “You…want me to be your assistant? Really? But I have very little experience in the field.” 

“Your role is less about designing, and more secretarial.”

“Gross.” 

“But it pays more than you were making, by a little less than double.” 

Alya screwed up her lips. “I suppose…it would be a good, safe alternative until I hear back from Newsweek…tell me more.” 

Happily, Marinette sat on the couch next to her. “Okay, okay, so most of the work is in communication with the different departments. Some excel, some Dropbox.” 

“Gross.” 

“But that’s only like…40% of the job. The other 60 is what you, Alya, are suited for.” 

“Oh?” 

“Is that why you keep losing assistants?” Nino joked. 

“….yes.” 

“Wait what really?!” 

“Mar, if you are asking me to put my life in danger, I’m going to have to politely decline…or ask for a higher salary.” 

“No one has been hurt yet!” 

“Not making a better case…” 

“No no, I mean—“ why was she bothering to beat around the bush? “The manor is haunted.” 

Alya and Nino fell silent. 

“I’m listening.” 

“There’s been a few incidents. People see things and hear things. Especially when I’m not there.” 

“Okay…what do you want me to do about it? I’m not a ghost expert.” 

“I think…it’s Adrien.” 

Alya’s shoulders sank as Nino let out a sad gasp.

[temporalbystander]

Starting off.

We have the first, and arguably worse, piece of Miraculous fanfiction I have written. There is so much wrong here that I need to fix but, since I'm not actually going to write Faybon's initial story anymore, I don't see the point in fixing it.

Chapter 1: Finally noticed.

On the first day of the school year I wasn't expecting much. So it was a good school in Paris, so what? I hadn't changed so how could I expect anyone's reaction to me to differ? So, I did what I had always done. I stayed quiet, kept to myself and stayed out of everyone else's way. All while keeping an eye on what they were up to. Not like it was hard. Pretty easy when nobody notices you. Miss Netta called it my superpower once to try and cheer me up. She didn't need to, I had gotten used to nobody caring about me, but I still appreciated the sentiment. Besides, having superpowers was cool so, like everyone else, when Ladybug and Cat Noir appeared I was very interested. I followed everything I could about them, though that was kind of hard to do considering all the part time jobs I worked. Finding the Ladyblog was a blessing.

Being invisible my entire life I got into the habit of watching the people around me. How they acted, how they sounded, it was a skill that would help me figure out who would be akumatised next. They were clearly attracted to negative emotions so any signs of sadness quickly caught my attention. I'll admit, when I first started it was to see who disappeared before the two heroes showed up. I quickly realised how bad an idea that was though so it instead became a method of self-preservation. Other than that, at school I watched the other students in order to work out their relationships, out of idle curiosity mainly. Friendships were easy, as were the varying types of dislike. What was very interesting were the crushes, or love as they put it, and how subtle the differences were from the typical interactions of friends. That's how I first noticed Marinette.

She was in my class and was quite a nice girl who had the makings of a fashion designer. She did have one problem though, she was kind of shy and didn't like standing out, so she kept mostly to herself. Then came the year Adrien Agreste joined our school, teen model and celebrity who also ended up in our class. Poor girl became amazingly clumsy when he was around, in both words and actions, you could practically see the hearts in her eyes when she was thinking of him. In my time as their classmates she wouldn't be the only one to show such feelings for him.

Both Chloe and Lila had intentions and, while not going to our school, Kagami would also grow close to him. Chloe saw him as something she deserved being Miss Popular and the daughter of the mayor, but they had grown up together so I kind of understood. Kagami had been sheltered from any friends by her mother and, since she saw Adrien as perfect, he was pretty much the only one worthy of her, not that she didn't care about his feelings, she clearly did. It was honestly quite sad to see how broken up she would be when they didn't work out. Out of all the potential girlfriends it was Lila that would worry me the most. While it was clear to everyone that she had intentions, except to the boy himself, it was her overall demeanor that unnerved me. In those rare moments when she let her guard down, when nobody could or would call her on it, normally when making a threat, her true nature shone through. Quite frankly, she terrified me, I found her sinister, if not downright evil at times.

But before we got to those last two, my attention mainly stayed on how Marinette acted with him. More than once the way she stumbled over her words and feet forced me to change position due to some unintended consequence of her actions. I had gotten quite used to it so, when another encounter sent her water bottle flying I was quick enough to make sure only my jacket got soaked. After which I went to hang it up in my locker to dry before continuing on with my day as normal. I had figured that would be the most exciting thing that would happen today, assuming no akuma's showed up of course, but I was very wrong. What happened next changed the course of my life.

—-----

It was the end of the day and I had just gotten my jacket out of my locker, that had thankfully dried, when I heard an out of breath voice behind me. "Geez you're hard to pin down." I knew Marinette's voice so I turned around, quite curious to see who she was talking to, only to find her blue eyes staring right at me.

"Oh!" I cleared my throat to try and hide my surprise. "Yeah I've been told that a lot." Normally by people who have walked right by me shouting my name, it was honestly pretty funny when that happened. "How can I help you?" That question seemed to make her as confused as I was, followed quickly by embarrassment.

"I wanted to apologise for earlier." The girl in the pink jacket and jeans started slowly as everything began to make sense. It's the first time her accidents had ever actually affected me, of course she would notice now. "And for all the near misses before that." Or not… This was definitely new. "I mean I felt bad for it but you never brought it up so I figured you didn't mind but then I got you wet and I saw you without your jacket in class and I felt so guilty I just had to tell you how sorry I am." Looking up at me again, after that very drawn out sentence, she frowned. "Though I didn't think it would be so hard. You weave around everyone so easily I kept losing track of you." Then her eyes widened. "Oh gosh I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced myself yet. I'm Marinette Du Pein-Cheng, I sit near the front in most of our classes."

She knew we were in the same class. Something was very wrong here. "I'm Faybon. Faybon Tules. As for all that?" I shrugged and gave her a smile. "Don't worry about it, no harm done." Saying that I put my jacket back on and closed the locker before starting to leave.

Matching me step for step my conversation partner kept talking. "Are you sure?" She questioned nervously. "You just always seem to be around and I'm a mess."

"Not normally." I hadn't meant to say that, the shock of all this was getting to me.

"Pardon?" Naturally, she was confused.

Well, we had reached the front of the school by this point so maybe telling her would end this strange encounter. "You're not normally so clumsy." I started explaining with a shrug. "I mean sure you tend to trip when you're in a hurry but who doesn't? The only reason things were so bad this morning was because you were trying to talk to Adrien." Once I hit the bottom step I turned for home. There were chores I needed to do before rushing off to work.

"That obvious huh?" Glancing to my side I saw Marinette burying her face in her hands. "God I hope nobody else knows"

I sighed. Guess there was no getting out of this. Clearly she was comfortable with me as she wasn't even trying to deny it. I had no clue why that was but I should stop being rude and actually talk to her. "Don't worry about it so much. Only those who know you or pay as much attention as I do would see what's going on. If it makes you feel better Adrien is clueless about the entire thing." Okay why was I giving new information now?

"Really?" Of course that caught her attention. "What does he think then?"

Though she tried to sound  casual I could tell how desperate she was to know.

Shaking my head I decided to stop questioning it. Somehow I had found myself in a full fledged conversation with a classmate so I should probably start talking properly. "Well I can tell you that he is normally annoyed by what Chloe does but he's known her since they were kids and is willing to put up with a lot because of it." Honestly I had a large and varied pile of opinions when it came to Chloe Bourgeois and the way she acted but I wouldn't get into that now. "As for what you should do? Just don't play down your feelings too much or go overboard trying to convince him that you're just friends."

"Are you sure?" She was worried but that was understandable.

Coming to a stop on a street corner I turned to face her. "Marinette, listen to me, if you do that all you will end up doing is convincing him that friends is all you could ever be. He has to few of them to risk and he won't take the chance if you don't even hint that you are open to the possibility. As for the stuttering? If anything that works in your favour. He lives in a mansion and gets a limo everywhere. He probably thinks you're intimidated but are still trying to treat him normally." While the first girl to notice me, ever, thought that over I decided to point out where we were. "You live down this way don't you? I have to keep going."

If anything that surprised Marinette more than what I'd already said. "Yes, but how did you know that? You haven't been following me have you?"

I chuckled, actually chuckled, at the question. "Not at all, I know there's a bakery down that way with an apartment right above it. I also know that it's your parents who run it, you don't exactly have a common last name."

"Wow, you do notice a lot don't you?" When I nodded she gave me an uneasy smile. "Please don't tell anyone about my feelings for Adrien."

I managed to hold back my laughter this time, though how she got me laughing so easily had me worried, before answering her plea as seriously as possible. "Who would I tell? Hell, who would even ask?" My question didn't seem to calm her at all so I decided to break it to her gently. "Tell you what. Ask your friends how many there are in the class without counting and come tell me the answer tomorrow. You'll understand then." I don't know why I was inviting her to talk to me again but I hoped it would be worth it.

"Well, alright?" She was clearly still confused but started walking down the street before turning back to look at me. "Hey, I've wanted to say this since school started but I didn't think it was my place…" Marinette's nervous comment shocked me. She had noticed me since then? How? "But since you've been so kind and given me such good advice I thought I would return the favour. If you're set on wearing such neutral colours you should go more for the dark reds and blues. They'd go well with your eyes and skin tone." Perhaps realising how personal she was being, my classmate blushed hard. "Well, goodbye Faybon, it was nice talking to you, I'll see you tomorrow." Then she hurried off.

I could only wave and stare after her before looking down at myself. I had on a black jacket covering a grey shirt that matched the dark grey track pants on. The most colour I had were the dark brown shoes I was wearing. Then I really started laughing. "Fashion. Of course it was my fashion sense she noticed." Shaking my head at the strangeness at it all I continued on my way. Wasn't like she was wrong, the grey sometimes made me look sick in the wrong light, but nobody else noticed so I never really cared.

The lingering smile on my face was noticed as soon as I walked through the door. "Hello Faybon, you're looking happy today, did you have a good day at school sweetie?" Miss Netta's tone was slightly teasing as I kissed her cheek before hurrying into the store room to help with the cleaning.

"Actually, I did." I answered as I put on some gloves before starting up the stairs. "I had a really interesting conversation with a girl in my class on the way home. She commented on my choice of clothing."

"I'm glad, you do so much it's good for you to just talk sometime." Before I could reply a news bulletin popped up on the tv in the playroom. Yet another person had fallen victim to Hawk Moth. "Such trouble. I hope your friend got home safely."

I didn't correct her. As the scene unfolded on the screen I felt this slight feeling of worry curl in my stomach. "Yeah… Me too…" I couldn't move until Ladybug showed up. Only then did I continue my chores, content with the knowledge that everything would be okay, I'd catch the highlights on the Ladyblog later but there was a lot I needed to do before I had to leave for work.

-/-/-/-/-

At the end of the day, after checking to see that all the kids were sleeping peacefully, I got into my pajamas and put my clothes aside to wash tomorrow. Just before getting into bed I opened my closet to pick my clothes for the next day. I hesitated over my typical choice before looking at my other options. Money was a little tight at the moment so the majority of what I made I gave to Miss Netta or spent on school supplies but I could still go out if I needed too. Yet the majority of colour in my ensemble came as gifts to help me stand out more. Not that it ever worked. Pulling out the red and white sports shoes I hadn't worn since I started working so much I started sorting through the rest. There was a light aqua blue shirt, Miss Netta said it matched my eyes, and some navy blue striped pants that weren't as casual as my grey ones. Setting them out ready for the morning I had to shake my head at my actions. Colour didn't make me any more noticeable so I was doing this just for Marinette. What had that girl done to me? Climbing into bed I decided not to dwell on it. Chances are she would forget all about talking to our classmates and finding me afterwards, more exciting stuff had happened after all.