#clumsy marinette strikes again

[dragon-creates]

These Hands Of Yours (Let Me Protect Them)

Read on AO3

For @xhanisai after I reblogged this post and immediately came up with this after the S5 finale. I have many thoughts but the main one was mostly “MARINETTE MY GIRL YOU DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER!” but yeah, I decided to base this after the finale because I feel like it fits with that post that she made. I managed to write this with the help of the caffeine from my tea, my remaining will to live and the neuro-spicy brain juice swirling around in my head. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this Akari!

The image of her tears-stained cheeks, red eyes and running nose was something Adrien didn’t think he was going to get out of his head for quite some time. He had comforted both Marinette and Ladybug many times before for different reasons, but this was the first time he comforted the same person on both sides of the mask.

It had started earlier this evening when they were both on patrol, Ladybug had met up with them at their agreed spot on a rooftop. The first sign he noticed something was wrong was how tense she was. Sure, she had her signature sweet smile and adorable sass, but her grin seemed more strained, and her quips were forced rather than seamlessly rolling off her tongue.

When asking her if she was alright, she brushed it off with a nervous laugh and swung away to start patrol. Chat Noir thought about chasing after her, but decided against it, knowing that if he continued to press on about it, the less willing she would be to tell him what was going on. They met up again twenty minutes later, but this time the sass and smile were gone, replaced with a face clouded with gloom and her posture slouched. He asked again if she was sure she was okay, only to be given a single nod before Ladybug attempted to swing away again; key word, attempted. For when she threw the end of her yoyo and prepared to jump, her clumsiness seemed to strike, and she nearly lost her footing. If it hadn’t been for Chat Noir’s quick reflexes and grabbed her wrist to pull her away, there was a definite chance she would’ve been injured.

He asked her one last time if she was okay and something inside her seemed to snap. Her eyes began to water, and her bottom lip trembled before launching herself into his chest and began to sob, strained cries ripping from her throat. Chat immediately scooped her up into his arms and walked over to a chimney, sitting them both down with her in his lap as he stroked her hair.

“I’m s-sorry, I’m so sorry!” she wailed, her tears leaking onto his leather covered shoulders as she buried her face into his neck.

“Shhh,” he buried his claws into her hair, gently taking out her hair ties and began stroking through the soft dark locks to sooth her, “You don’t need to apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You don’t understand!” she hiccupped, her small hands gripping the back of his suit as her entire body began to shake with more sobs, “I was stupid, I was really stupid this time Chat!”

Another tremor wracked through her body, causing Chat Noir to start purring, hoping that the vibrations would ease the panic threating to bubble to the surface. The purring seemed to be working, for he felt her trying to even out her breathing, though it seemed that she struggled as she would let out a cry once in a while that just shattered his heart every time he heard it. “Whatever it is, we can get through this together like we always do.”

“Not this time Chat!” she whimpered, “It’s just gonna make things worse if I say it. Everyone’s already so happy I can’t say it.”

“Then don’t say it to everyone,” he took one of her hands, his thumb stroking the top as her face peeled away from her shoulder to look at him, “Just say it to me, and let the rest just follow.”

“I…he…he should hate me!” she sniffled.

“Who?”

“Adrien!” her chest began to heave again as her other hand clawed at her face, “He should hate me for what I did!”

“Adrien Agreste?” Chat Noir inquired, starting to put the pieces together, “If this is about what happened to his father, Gabriel made that choice to help save the city. It’s not your fault, he doesn’t hate you for that.”

While true, a part of him was still grieving the loss of his father, he was glad that in those remaining moments his true self came to light for what he would do for his family. With that information in mind, it was something he could live with. However, it seemed that what he said just made his Lady feel worse as ripped her hand that was held in his to claw at her neck as she cried harder.

“No, no, no!” She began to rock back and forth, red marks were starting to contrast against her pale skin on her jaw, making Chat Noir grab her hands into his own large ones so she wouldn’t cause further damage to herself. “He shouldn’t have died; I shouldn’t have let him die! Then the wish wouldn’t-”

She clamped her mouth shut, praying that Chat Noir didn’t hear that last part. Unfortunately, his enhanced hearing was able to catch those last few words, the boy turning to her slowly. “What do you mean about the wish?” his tone was slow and steady.

“I-I didn’t…that wasn’t what I…t-that’s not what I meant to say-”

“-Ladybug,” she nearly jumped at the sound of his voice, the intensity making her nerves twist again, “What do you mean about the wish?”

He didn’t look or seem angry, but she knew that this was a conversation that he wasn’t going to change. Trying to compose herself as much as she could, she began to explain.

“He-he tricked me,” her own voice seemed to start shaking, “M-Monarch tricked me.” She felt his claws trail up and down her back to try and relieve some of her panic as her stuttering continued. “He tricked me. He tricked me. He tricked me.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered. He thinks he has a bit of an idea now. “Monarch is nothing but evil. He would do anything to get what he wants. Don’t blame yourself for Monarch making Gabriel sacrifice himself, you did all that you could.”

It didn’t seem to make her feel better, her eyes were still wide open and spilling tears as her breathing worsened. She began to shake her head. “Monarch tricked me. Monarch tricked me!” she turned to meet his gaze, “Gabriel was the trick!”

Chat Noir raised a brow in confusion. How was Gabriel the trick? His thoughts were interrupted as Ladybug’s rambles became more frantic.

“Monarch tricked me! Gabriel tricked me. Gabriel tricked me. He tricked me!”

A pit began to form in his stomach. No, no there’s no way. It felt like pieces of a puzzle starting to finally click together. Or to put it more simply, two men – two horrible men – began to mould into one monster. It was only confirmed when Ladybug opened her mouth again.

“Gabriel is…was Monarch,” she gripped his hands as the memory flooded back into her mind, “He started saying these things and I though that maybe, just maybe, there was still some good him. How could I be such an idiot?! To fall for a few nice words and suddenly it’s enough for me to give him Tikki and Plagg!”

Chat wanted to tell her that she wasn’t an idiot, that he understood being manipulated by that man – if you could even call him that at this point – that she did everything that she could in that moment. But at the same time, Monarch was his father! He had spent the last few weeks wondering how he could ever live up to how great his father was in his sacrifice. When in reality, there was no sacrifice, just an act of cowardice and his lady was left to pick up the pieces. He forced himself to repress a disgusted shudder. No wonder she looked like she was about to break down the minute he saw her arrive. 

“How can he look at me like that?!” she asked aloud, the question not being directed to anyone, “Even when I keep lying to him?!”

Chat Noir tucked a loose stray hair behind her ear, “Lying to who? About what?”

“Adrien,” the name alone made his breath hitch, “Every time I see him, he just looks at me as though I handed the world to him by just simply being there, and he doesn’t even know what I’ve been keeping from him!”

Oh, that made sense…wait. Adrien hadn’t seen Ladybug since she gave him his father’s ring. The way she was speaking about him was as if they had seen each other many times before. Did he know her outside of the mask? Could he even be that lucky?

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” she continued, “I don’t know if I can handle him looking at me like that whenever we’re at school, or play video games at each other’s houses, I don’t think I can be able to keep it together when he takes me to the little coffee shop down the street that he knows that I adore. He’s done so much for me, cares so much for me and yet I’m doing this to him, and he doesn’t even know what a horrible person I am!”

School…coffee shop…dates…A chill rushes through his veins, realisation seeping in. The girl he was holding in his arms, her hands glued to his in a desperate sign practically begging not to be alone, was someone that he knew far closer to him than any of his friends. Someone who he knew that already had so much on her hands that just got piled on after everything that was said to him. It can’t be.

“I SHOULDN’T BE LADYBUG!”

Was the last thing that tore from Marinette’s throat as her suit disappeared, leaving behind the love of his life in her pyjamas, Tikki nuzzling her cheek to try and calm her as the wave of panic and weeping returned.

He drops everything that was circling in his mind - his father, the wish, his Lady’s identity – and wraps Marinette up in his arms as much as he can, purring and keeping her as warm as he can with his body heat. Her left arm was wrapped round his torso while he kept a hold of her right hand in his own. He takes a look at her ungloved hand, hundreds of little scars leaving their marks on her skin, leaving a mocking reminder of how much she failed that day.

The fact that Monarch…no…the fact that his father was so selfish and vile that he went out of his way to not only emotionally damage, but to go as far as to try to physically damage his Lady just for a wish. Was his own son not enough? Was he that self-centred to ignore his only family left while claiming that he was doing this for his child? How could he use that to justify hurting and manipulating such a sweet and kind person as Marinette?!

“This is my fault,” she whispers, her voice raspy and sounding sore, “This is all my fault. He should hate me, I’m a terrible person and a terrible Ladybug.”

“No,” Chat Noir shook his head, a slight growl escaping with the word.

“I’m really sorry,” she whimpered, “I should’ve told you; you have every right to be angry with me, you’re my partner, you deserve to know.”

Did she…did she think his anger was directed at her? “Oh Mari,” he pressed his lips to her hair, “I have no reason to be angry with you. Never, ever blame yourself for the cruelty of others. You don’t need to apologise for any of Gabriel’s actions.”

He takes her other hand and clasps them in his again, making sure that her attention was focused on him and only him. “Since the moment I met you, you’ve been pressured to put the weight of Paris on your shoulders. From our friends to the other civilians, even yourself, it might not have been said out loud, but you definitely felt them giving you that responsibility. You are so strong; I’ve seen the remarkable things that you have accomplished with your hands. How you’ve protected so many people, to figuring out any lucky charm thrown your way, to even fighting the most feral akumas. But it’s also left its impact on you as well, and eventually, the weight that your hands have carried for so long has started to take effect. It doesn’t make you weak, no, however it is something that you don’t have to do alone. We’re the bug and cat team, we’re meant to share the weight, not take the burden from the other. And know that I know, I’m gonna make sure that you never feel such a weight again, both in and out the suit.”

She tilts her head in confusion before a flash of green made her squint and look away. When she looked back, she gasped, for there in front of her, in his pyjamas and zip-up hoodie, was none other than the boy she swore to protect from all the darkness she held so that he would never be burdened with. “Adrien?”

He pressed a kiss to her hand, “Hi Princess.”

Her eyes filled with tears again, she tried to make sure that Adrien would never find out about this, not at the expense of his happiness and now she managed to screw that up as well.

He was more prepared this time when she let out more apologies, taking off his hoodie, wrapped her up in it and pressed her face to his chest as he tightly embraced her. He purred louder and more even to make sure she was relaxed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Adrien!” she blubbered out as he rocked them back and forth, “I should’ve told you, but you were finally happy! Finally free with your life and I didn’t want to take that from you!”

“It’s alright, shh, it’s gonna be alright,” he let her continue to sob, his main priority at this point was her and taking care of her, “I’m okay, we’re okay, it’s not your fault.”

A few minutes later, her sobs turned to quiet sniffles. He took another look at her face, his stomach twisting when he saw just how exhausted she was, the guilt had really taken an ugly toll on her. Tikki was still cradled in the crook of her neck, having fallen asleep while soothing her holder. He stood up, holding her in his arms as he called out for his transformation phrase and jumped off the rooftop, making his way back to the bakery.

Once he landed on her balcony, he released his transformation again before going through her trapdoor window and gently placing her onto the bed.

He lifted her upper body he raised her duvet and placed her under it, making sure she was wrapped up safe and warm before joining her under her blankets, wrapping her up in his arms again and resumed his purring. Tikki had woken up and moved from Marinette’s neck to her hair, Plagg joining her as he buried himself in her dark locks and he began to purr as well.

Adrien could feel her body struggling to relax, constantly shifting from trying to letting herself by soothed by the warmth and love she was being given to stiffening back up again as though she didn’t feel as though she were allowed to.

His brows furrow in concentration, forming a plan in his head on just how to help his princess within this moment. He looked at their hands again, having conjoined again while in the midst of her much needed cuddles. He raised her dainty pale hand to his lips, gently pressing them against the tips of her fingers, making her look up at him and pausing her internal dilemma.

“I’m not surprised that you’re Ladybug,” he told her, “I mean, I am a bit shocked at the sudden reveal, but it makes so much sense that you’re her. The kindness with how you treat civilians, the creativity when figuring out any lucky charm thrown at you, not taking any nonsense from anyone – all of that comes from Marinette.”

He presses two more kisses to the back of her hand and laid it on her pillow and started stroking her palm in small circles with his thumb, taking notice that she was focused on the lazy motions and the soothing feeling it gave her. “It comes from everything I’ve seen you do outside of the mask,” he continued, “How you treat our friends and students outside of our class to make sure everyone is happy, coming up with ideas for not only your fashion but with baking, drawing and so many other projects, and you refuse to let others be walked over and stand up for those who aren’t able to do it themselves. All that comes from you! And all those amazing things come from your amazing hands.”

She tried to smile; it wavered a little, but she wanted to show how much his words meant to her. She wanted to believe him, she wanted to believe him so badly! So why wouldn’t the final image of Gabriel leave her mind?! Why did it have to keep reminding her of how much she failed.

She curled in on herself, the brainstorm building up again. Luckily, Adrien seemed to take notice. “But those hands have been hurt way before you became Ladybug, haven’t they?” he asked, making her thoughts pause as she peered up at him through her eyelashes.

“Despite saving the city multiple times, its far from the first time your hands have been used in that way,” he brushed his thumb over a faded scar, one that he noticed from the first time he met Marinette. Back during the hat contest, before everything, when he gently brushed his hand against hers to take her winning hat, he saw it on the top of her hand and was curious as to how it got there, but he didn’t want to pry. Now, after knowing all she went through, he had a bit of an idea on how she received it.

“All those years that you had to defend yourself from Chloe’s ruthlessness to the point you were terrified to go to school, and then Lila trying to do the same to you as well. Not to mention, you always tried to take on everyone’s problems, whether if its Kim and Ivan fighting, or Alix trying to pick a fight with someone, you’ve constantly found solutions to the point that they just keep coming back to you for help,” he continued, “They see you as the only way to fix a problem instead of trying to figure it out themselves. I know that you’re afraid of our friends getting akumatised, but you can’t take on everybody else’s burdens if you’re already being dragged down by your own.”

Marinette whimpered, every word he was saying was ringing so true that it hurt to listen to. Adrien sensed her distress and pressed a few more gentle kisses to her cheeks and forehead; he knew she had to hear this, but he knew that there was already going on in that head of hers for her to finally be confronted with both her greatest strength yet biggest flaw.

“And now knowing that you had to defend yourself from my father, both with and without a miraculous,” a bitter taste formed in his mouth as he remembered how Ladybug tried to fight Hawkmoth after Tikki and Plagg took back their miraculous. His father might not have known it was Marinette at that time, but he did know that the person he was fighting at the time was defenceless and vulnerable to the extreme damage he inflicted. “The fact that he would do that to you, that he tried to go out of his way to hurt you and then proceeded to trick you…...I’m so sorry Marinette. I’m sorry that you’ve kept this to yourself just so you could protect me but,” he looked at the scars on her hands again, the ones that Gabriel left there permanently, “No one was there to protect you from what he did.”

“-But you’ve already protected me for so long!” Marinette injected, the sudden volume startling Adrien a little bit, “You’ve already done so much for me, even when I pushed you away you were always by my side even when I didn’t deserve it. Even after keeping this from, you, how could you still want to be my partner…I don’t deserve this.”

He pressed a finger to her lips; she looked up as their eyes locked with one another, anxious blue met a frustrated green, but not at her. “Don’t ever say that again,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with both hurt and concern, “You deserve so much more than you’ve been given. You barely ask for anything, nothing even, and yet no one can even give you that.” He brought her hands to his chest, right above where she could feel his heart drumming softly, “You are so incredible, so talented, so amazing. And it hurts to watch that being stripped away every day, as Marinette and Ladybug. You think that you need to take on so much more than you already do, that you have to feel this horrible, but you don’t! Ladybug wasn’t meant to be on her own and neither was Marinette. You don’t need to do this alone anymore Princess…please, let me in, let me help you, let me share and protect the world that is threatening to fall out of your hold.”

“I-I-I,” her voice broke a little, the weight of his words was hitting harder than she thought it would, giving her a sense of peace and relief that she hadn’t felt in so long. But she knew that she wouldn’t be able to hold onto it forever, something was going to make him realise that she was a terrible partner, and he would finally realise that. “I can’t. I can’t take your happiness away after you fought so hard for it, I can’t let you be dragged down with me. I should’ve been smarter that day, I could’ve found another way – I could’ve! That way you don’t have to be here now to feel burdened by me!”

“I can assure you that never have, or will, burden me with anything,” he let go of her hands and wrapped both of his arms around her smaller form in a silent promise of never letting her go. “I’m here because I want to be. Gabriel has always found a way to trick others for years, he tricked us both when he first thought he was Hawkmoth, he’s managed to talk his way in and out of situations without anyone batting an eye and he has manipulated me for years into thinking that I was wrong about everything. And the fact that all of Paris believes that he’s some kind of hero while you’re suffering in silence after everything he put you through just proves how much of a monster he is. And I feel sick knowing that I believed that too for a while.”

Marinette shuffled in his arms. Ever since she became Ladybug, defeating Hawkmoth was the only goal she knew that she had to complete. She sacrificed everything in order to do that, her hobbies, her love life, even herself to some degree. And yet when the time came, she failed. Part of him just wanted Adrien to scream at her, tell her that she messed up and messed up bad. But seeing him look at her with the utmost love after she thought he would hate her for keeping these secrets and failing to complete the most important task of their lives, even after finding out that Hawkmoth was his father, a part of herself felt as though he were telling the truth about everything he said in that moment.

He let one of his arms fall and clasped her hand again, bringing it to his lips, “You’re not alone anymore Marinette. No matter what the future holds for us, we’re going to go through this together. You didn’t mess up; you didn’t fail, and you deserve to be happy. I’m here now, so please, let me take care of you as you took care of me and everyone else,” he gently pressed his lips to her knuckles as one more promise, “It’s you and me against the world.”

The dams broke once more as Marinette buried her head in his chest, wailing once more as he gripped her tightly with as much protection as he could give her in this moment. He let her cry as much as she needed to, stroking her hair as she got everything else out of her system while whispering and presses comforting kisses to her forehead.

A while passed before her cries turned to whimpers and her whimpers turned into soft, even breathes. Looking down, he saw that she had cried herself to sleep. Judging by the bags under her eyes and how deep she seemed to be in her dreamlike state, this was probably this first time she properly slept since her battle with Hawkmoth.

Her arms were tightly wrapped around him, as though she were begging him to stay – as if he could ever leave her after what happened. With one arm wrapped her waist and the other round the back of her head, he cuddled softly into her, relishing in the soft content noise that left her throat. The kwamis retreated to the other side of the pillows, giving their holders much needed space while close enough in case they needed them.

Before he allowed himself to fall asleep however, internally, Adrien made one more promise to her. I won’t let this happen to you again Marinette, not after this. No matter what, I’ll keep you safe and never let your hands carry that type of weight ever again. Now that I’m free for him, nothing will stop me from protecting you or leaving your side.

Only after making that promise, did he join her in sleep.

(In the morning.

“Plagg, how do you cataclysm a dead person?”

“Adrien I just woke up what the fuck.”)

I am so sorry it took this long! I swear I should’ve gotten it out sooner but it’s here now and I hope you like it! <3

[stormiclown]

I know I might get bashed like hell for this but I don't care: Chat Noir and Ladybug are realistically the weakest Cat and Ladybug miraculous holders of their respective legacies.

And it's not just them. Every single Parisian hero of the current generation, from Rena Rouge to Viperion, are significantly weaker in terms of skill and power than their predecessors.

This isn't their fault entirely, as Ladybug and co have more disadvantages than the heroes that have come before them and there are those who don't take the job seriously [Chat Noir and Queen Bee].

They're Very Young

The first most glaring issue is the fact that they are still minors. The most consistent rule of the show is that a miraculous being used by a child is like the free trial version of a streaming service. Five minutes after using their special power, they will de-transform and will need to feed their kwami to resume their transformation. Unlike Hawkmoth and Mayura who can keep up their transformation even after using an akuma/amok, Ladybug and Chat Noir have to proceed with caution because they aren't grownups which limits their ability to fight all out. This is especially the case with Chat Noir and Ladybug as they are the main superheroes and characters used to emphasize this rule.

If the wiki is to be believed, then previous Ladybugs like La Déesse Coccinelle, Piao Chong, Tentomushi, Jeanne d'Arc (in the mlb universe), and Mudangbeolle were all adults according to their respective time periods and didn't have the same restrictions that the current Ladybug has. The same could be said about previous foxes, bees, turtles, snakes etc.

They Lack the Necessary Training

The second drawback that Marinette and Adrien have are their backgrounds. More specifically, their comfortable lifestyles. Marinette in particular, went from a clumsy girl who lived a normal life to a beloved superheroine in just one day. Not that there's anything wrong with that on a character level, but on a logical level it makes sense for her to be ill prepared for the duties of a hero at first. She was thrusted into it suddenly with no training [something I see is regularly addressed in crossover fanfictions with Batman and the DCU] or any background in combat, the latter she had to learn on her own. Though it's hinted at that Sabine is an exceptional fighter, it's pretty clear that she taught none of it to Marinette.

Adrien at least has some combat training in the form of fencing which is evident in the way he uses his staff like a fencing saber. But as someone who has been fencing since I was seven and been up against many talented opponents, Adrien strikes me as mediocre at best. He beats Kagami in Riposte sure, but by real fencing standards Adrien would be slaughtered by someone who had been trained their entire life to be an Olympic worthy fencer [Kagami].

I'm bringing this up because literally every past Ladybug, Black, and others have experience in combat, were vigilantes in armies, were warriors before using their miraculous, or fought in actual wars therefore becoming hardened veterans. In this category Adrien [again, even though he's mediocre] and Kagami are the only heroes of the current generation who have previous training in the form of a combat-oriented sport. Though, in my opinion, Kagami as Ryuko is the only hero that can hold a candle to her predecessors.

Alya, Nino, and Chloe are also very weak in this regard due to the aforementioned reasons above. They all have comfortable lifestyles and were thrusted into the world of heroes without any training or focus. Chloe nearly ran into a wall because she wasn't paying attention and Alya needed to be guilt tripped into giving the miraculous to Ladybug by Trixx. You can make the argument that the miraculous costumes make up for their lack of actual experience, which is 100% valid, but I can also argue that having battle training or any sort of athleticism can make a hero even more effective. I don't know if this is an unpopular opinion, but Kagami will always be the most effective and skilled temporary hero as evidenced by her being able to piece together her transformation phase, her attention to detail, her impressive battle awareness and her ability to right her mistakes [jumping into the fight without listening to Ladybug's plan in Ikari Gozen] with her quick thinking. Say what you will about her, but Kagami is objectively the best candidate to be a permanent hero, especially since Chat Noir has been demoted to sidekick/temporary hero status.

[Kim is also an athletic person, but his skill is in swimming, which isn't helpful unless he has an aqua form, which he doesn't so ehh]

They Have Little to No Knowledge of Their Own Powers

The third thing that the heroes have going against them is their lack of knowledge about their powers. By this point in the series, the heroes are just going with the flow and figuring things out for themselves as they go along.

As we know, these are the first heroes since the Order of the Guardians was destroyed. This context is important because in Feast, we learn that countless grimoires and Miracle Boxes burned away or eaten.

The miraculous date back to Ancient Times so there had to have been thousands of years of documented information about the miraculous of the Chinese Miracle Box. I'm not even going to say it's an assumption. It has to be a fact that there were secrets about each miraculous including how to train each Guardian that would have been extremely helpful to Ladybug and the others if they had access to it. Master Fu is responsible for tens of thousands of years' worth of knowledge being snuffed out in just one night.

This puts the heroes who wielded a miraculous after the Order was destroyed at a significant, almost sad disadvantage to those who were heroes before the Order fell. It's highly likely that after gaining their miraculous, previous heroes had access to the archive in which they could learn to utilize their powers to their absolute fullest potential. Whereas with the current heroes, it feels like they can only use a fraction of their miraculous's abilities.

Another problem with their lack of knowledge is the time separating Ladybug and Chat Noir from their predecessors. Bo Rua and an unnamed Vietnamese Black Cat were the last LadyCat duo before Feast swallowed the Order, with Adrien and Marinette being their immediate successors. However, Master Fu was confirmed to be in his 180s when he relinquished the Miracle Box to Marinette and Austruc confirmed Bo Rua and her partner to be in their early twenties, meaning that Bo Rua and LadyNoir have over 200 years separating them, confirming that their knowledge was lost over time after they died and can only be recovered by speaking to their spirits like in Reunion [which I have several complaints about]. Master Fu is obviously lacking knowledge about the miraculous to a severe degree, so it makes sense for Chat Noir and Ladybug to as well.

I'm not bashing Adrien and Marinette and co for being objectively weak because it makes so much sense. They lack proper training, they're kids with set limits on their powers, and they don't have access to crucial information that would've probably led them to defeat Hawkmoth by now. Sure, the two of them [more so Marinette] are the strongest heroes of their generation but if you put them up against their forebearers, they would be massacred with no difficulty whatsoever.

The show would be 100 times more interesting if this was acknowledged, which would lead to the introduction of the previous holders in a more natural and useful way.

[If I missed anything, any reblogs with your personal opinions on the matter will be very appreciated]

[angelofthequeers]

Bullseye

Rating: T

Summary: Nino's invited his friends for a nice night of darts with him and his father. Nothing could possibly go wrong...right?

Slot: 1-2.5k fic

Written for an anonymous donator for the @mlbforblm drive as a pool request!  The donations go directly to Color of Change, an organisation for racial justice, and don’t pass through our hands at all. I’ve still got slots open, so come and commission me or another of the amazing contributors!

AO3 link

“I can’t believe you guys agreed to this,” Nino says as he follows his father Mehdi into the small building, Alya’s fingers linked with his. Marinette and Adrien trail behind, murmuring to each other about something to do with roofs and picnics, but Nino doesn’t pay them much mind because short of being secret superheroes, there’s not much they can do about a rooftop picnic. Hmm. Maybe he should ask Ladybug for their Miraculouses and take Alya on a rooftop picnic one night. Alya’s always loved leaping and sprinting through the city, with the wind streaming through her bushy brown ponytail, and his stomach flutters at the memory of Rena Rouge’s impish grin during their flirtatious banter, while Chat Noir turns his charms on Ladybug, and she facepalms –

“Like we were gonna leave you to deal with this by yourself,” Alya’s saying when Nino finally manages to drag himself back down to earth. “You’ve helped me babysit the little demons so many times. What’s one night of darts?”

“Trust me, dude, after this, you’ll be begging for a whole week with E-squared,” Nino says. Alya rolls her eyes at his nickname for her sisters, but her mouth twitches so he figures he’s not in too much trouble. “He reckons he’s the next Phil Taylor.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad,” Adrien pipes up.

“Do you wanna know how many times he doesn’t hit the dart board? And then says that he’s just waiting for his lucky break?”

“…Oh.”

The pub is small and brightly lit without being overwhelming, giving it a nice, cosy air that always leaves Nino in a good mood even with his father acting like he’s two seconds away from representing France in the Olympics. The bartender waves at them as they head for the little party of fellow darts club members near the darts board, weaving between tables – or, in Marinette’s case, being piggybacked by Adrien as though they’re in a minefield, so that she doesn’t trip and cause a minor earthquake with her clumsiness. Though Marinette’s scowling rather grumpily, Nino’s certain that she’s not actually mad at being carried; not when it’s Adrien who’s carrying her, without treating her like a fragile porcelain doll.

“Nino!” Beefy Henri grins and holds out a fist for Nino to bump. “Brought some fresh meat, eh?”

“Yeah.” Nino laughs and scratches the back of his head with his free hand. “This is my girl, Alya. And the two behind us are Adrien and Marinette.”

“We wanted to see the next Phil Taylor for ourselves,” Alya says, nudging Nino. Henri eyes Mehdi, who’s chatting up a storm with the other club members, and snorts.

“You’ll be waiting a while then, girlie,” he says. Alya smirks.

“Good thing I plan on sticking around for a while, then.”

Oh. Nino’s stomach flutters at the implication of Alya’s words. God, how he loves this girl.

“Darts!” Mehdi holds up a dart and turns to face the teens. “How about we give the guests of honour first go?”

“Um, I think I’ll just watch,” Marinette says with a nervous laugh. Mehdi shakes his head.

“Nonsense!”

“But I’m –”

“Come on and let the master show you!”

Marinette shoots a wide-eyed look at Nino, then gulps and approaches Mehdi, while Adrien sidles over to stand with Nino, Alya, and Henri near the board. Nino instinctively takes a step away. He loves Marinette, he really does, but there’s no way he’s going to entrust her with his safety when she’s got a sharp object in her hands.

“Remember that it’s all in the movement,” Mehdi says. “Feet apart!”

Marinette visibly resigns herself to her fate and spreads her feet. Mehdi pauses with his hands just above her shoulders until she nods, then guides her so that she’s side-on from the dartboard with her right foot forward.

“Now, make sure you’re holding the barrel.”

“The what?”

In response, Mehdi positions Marinette’s fingers around the barrel of the dart, then lifts her right arm so that her forearm is at a square angle to her face.

“Don’t hold it too tight,” Mehdi says. “Just take aim…and shoot!”

Right before Marinette releases the dart, a feeling of cold foreboding washes over Nino; the kind of foreboding that one gets when their life is about to flash before their eyes. He jumps back behind Henri and pulls Alya with him, leaving poor Adrien as the unsuspecting sacrifice who’s grinning and cheering Marinette on as she squares her shoulders and then throws with determination.

THOCK.

Alya’s hands fly up to cover her mouth, muffling her choked gasp, while Nino’s eyes bulge out of his head. Every other person in the room is deathly silent. Hell, a white-faced Marinette doesn’t even look like she’s breathing.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Oh my god!”

“What?” says Adrien, while everyone else stares at him. Nino’s about two seconds from asking if there’s a Unicorn Miraculous, because if he had to think of a piece of magic jewellery for Adrien right now, that’d be his pick.

“You’ve –” Nino numbly gestures to his own head. “You’ve got –”

Adrien just blinks and frowns. How he can’t feel the dart that’s sticking out of his forehead, Nino has no bloody clue. Alya, meanwhile, is shaking as though she can’t decide whether to laugh or freak out. Probably the latter, considering that she hasn’t even pulled out her phone to snap pictures.

“Um,” Mehdi says. “This isn’t what I –”

“Oh my god, it’s in your forehead!” Marinette shrieks. Adrien blinks again and reaches up to fumble for the dart sticking out of the skin of his brow.

“Huh,” he says. “So it is.”

That seems to be Alya’s breaking point; she bursts into hysterical laughter and doubles over, clutching at one of the tables for support. Nino’s unsure whether he’ll ever feel anything again other than the dumbstruck numbness currently settling on him, while Marinette’s face is turning a nice shade of green à la Carapace’s suit.

“Dude,” Nino says. “How the hell are you fine?”

Adrien shrugs. “I can’t even feel it, to be honest. I’ve had worse.”

“Oh, I bet you have!” Marinette shrieks at him. She storms over and jabs a finger at his chest. “I’m sure one measly dart is nothing to you!”

Adrien grins in an uncanny imitation of Chat Noir’s smirk. “Hey, if you wanted to prick me, all you had to do was –”

Marinette yanks the dart out of Adrien’s head and then tugs him clean over her shoulder. “Sorry to cut this short,” she says to Nino, suddenly dead calm except for the way her right eye is twitching. “Adrien and I have some things to discuss. I’m sorry for ruining your night, Mr Lahiffe.”

Alya collapses to the ground as her laughter redoubles.

“Ruined?” Mehdi says, grinning despite the dark skin beneath his beard still holding an ashen hue. Now that they’re sure Adrien’s okay, the atmosphere of the group is lightening to one of mirth rather than horror. “I hardly think you ruined it. That’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in, well…I don’t remember.”

“Mehdi really is the next Phil Taylor compared to this young lady,” says another club member – Adeline – and then the room is full of explosive laughter. Adrien just looks back over Marinette’s shoulder and grins and salutes, and Nino almost chokes on his own saliva trying not to laugh, because Marinette will skin him alive if he encourages her boyfriend’s idiocy.

“Looks like Adrien and I are going to bounce,” Marinette says almost serenely. “Sorry to ditch you and Alya.”

“I don’t think Alya really cares at the moment, dude,” Nino says, eyeing his hysterical girlfriend. “Just, uh, make sure my bro’s still in one piece?”

Marinette smiles. “Oh, of course. Have a good night, Nino.” Then she’s deftly navigating through the maze of bar tables with Adrien still over her shoulder, smirking back at Nino, like she hadn’t been the one carried on Adrien’s back on the way in to avoid a disaster. It’s like she’s got an alter-ego who’s taken over right now, to be honest.

“Man, I need a drink,” Nino mumbles, wishing that he wasn’t still two years below the age limit. Between this and his moonlighting as a human turtle every now and then with his furry fox girlfriend, there’s probably not much more that life could throw at him from here on. But he’s got no doubt that it’ll try its best.

[miraculouscontent]

I’m loving this Pessimist AU. I’m curious, how do you think Marinette meeting Luka for the first time would go in this AU?

Marinette would be distant with most people, so unless she’s friends with Juleka (probably in a “misery loves company”/”we’re both cursed” way), she probably spends her time walking around the music festival to listen and watch, avoiding getting too close to anything because she definitely doesn’t trust her luck.

Anarka, meanwhile, ends up spotting her and asks her to come on board as a temporary “crewmate.” They’re shorthanded (Marinette not actively making friends with everyone means that the class as a whole isn’t as close, so they’re short a few people compared to canon) and Anarka can also see that she’s all alone which seems like such a shame during the music festival.

Marinette is dreading something going wrong, but it is neat seeing how creative the Liberty is and the sort of energy the festival is causing everyone. That said, she’s not getting her hopes up either and starts helping by idly cleaning.

As with canon, Anarka stops her. Marinette fully expects to be scolded for whatever reason the universe can come up with, but is surprised when Anarka takes it in stride and merely tells her that they don’t clean on the ship. Marinette doesn’t know how to take that, but she’s not in trouble or screwing up outside of some light clumsiness (that Anarka also doesn’t seem to mind, much to Marinette’s confusion), so she accepts it as a temporary blessing.

Of course, she’s eventually asked to retrieve Luka, which has her back on edge because she has no idea what this stranger might be like. She’s learned how temporary happiness can be for her, so even though things have been smooth sailing so far, there’s always some catch/downwards spiral eventually, and this could be it.

And yet--this boy is... cute? Really nice? Apologizes when he worries that he’s offended her?? He can even play out her feelings and seems to genuinely enjoy her company????

She’s completely, utterly baffled but--no, this is temporary too! Maybe he’ll do a 180 and reveal that he was messing with her all along, or she’ll trip into him and knock him into the Seine, and he’ll never want to talk to her again!

Something always goes wrong. She shouldn’t get her hopes up...

But as time goes on and she keeps anticipating “the big moment” where everything goes bad, there’s nothing. Even during Anarka’s akumatization, Luka is nothing but concerned for her and she doesn’t stumble into making a fool out of herself.

It would still take time after that for her to let her guard down with him, not because he’s not “doing well enough” at easing her but she’s had walls up for a long time and they won’t all come down even within weeks of knowing him.

Trusting and feeling comfortable around him won’t mean that she’ll be open to anyone/anything else exactly (she doesn’t expect lightning to strike twice), but there will be a quiet moment between them where she finally admits to herself... maybe she can get lucky, even if only once.

[butchchat]

is it too late to say that i love you?

Based off of this post by @kinschi !!!

[x]

Kagami lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing as Ladybug picked up her sword which had been dropped on the floor during their brief fight — the now corrupted hero studied it for a couple of moments before she carelessly swung it over her shoulder. Her attention then pertained back towards Kagami as the latter shifted on her feet, trying to regain her footing but to no avail. 

She couldn't fight. Not because she was so close to defeat or because she felt so tired and weak. She would've defended the city to her dying breath in any other case. No, she couldn't fight because this was Ladybug she was facing. And Marinette too? Kagami's head was still spinning with the truth that the two were apparently one in the same. What made her doubt that was the fact there was absolutely nothing that she could see that reminded her of Marinette in this person.

Especially not in the crazed eyes of Hawkmoth's latest puppet.

Ladybug noticed her expression and a wide, maniacal grin settled onto her features. Kagami shuddered. And when she spoke, her voice was enough to send a chill through Kagami's whole body. Because a voice that had always been filled with nothing but kindness and love inside, wasn't supposed to hold so much bitterness and hatred like it did now.

“What's wrong little dragon?” The akumatized Ladybug crooned in a sickeningly sweet way, her blood red eyes flashing menacingly as she stood before her, “I thought you never hesitate?”

Her body went completely still at her words. Kagami really hadn't wanted to believe it at first, but with those familiar words striking directly through her heart — words Kagami herself had once told Marinette — she knew that Chat Noir hadn't been lying or joking whatsoever. This really was Marinette. And for a moment, Kagami couldn't believe it. Marinette, sweet, clumsy, hesitant Marinette was Ladybug. Ladybug who was brave, daring, graceful and never hesitated was Marinette.

Then her disbelief melted into horror when it suddenly hit her deeper. Marinette. Innocent, kind, beloved Marinette had been akumatized into… 

This. 

This bitter, twisted, hate-filled version of Paris' heroine showed no such kindness that Marinette held. It was almost like there was no part of the old Marinette left at all.

But Kagami had to try. For the sake of Paris and herself she had to try and reach her beyond the madness in her eyes.

“You're right,” Kagami forced out between her bloodied teeth, finally lifting herself up from where she was standing, “I don't. At least when it comes to my feelings.” She wiped away the blood that was trickling down her chin, ignoring the tears trailing softly down her cheeks, “I don't want to fight you.” She added shakily, desperation filled her tone as she set her gaze on the girl whom she loved so dearly. 

If she lost her now then… She didn't know what she'd do with herself.

She was a little surprised to see Marinette's composture slip ever so slightly. Her grin slowly fell as Kagami straightened herself and stood at her full height, wincing as her chest ached and her head spun in protest but she ignored it as best as she could. Everything hurt, but it didn't matter. She needed to finish this.

“But if it's a confession you want, then I won't hesitate.” She added on breathlessly. Tears yet again stung the edges her eyes and pricked the edges of her vision but Kagami couldn't care less, in fact, with all this new emotion bubbling up inside her she let them fall. She choked back a quiet sob as she squeezed her eyes for a moment before reopening them. 

“I love you Marinette!” She cried out, fresh tears flooded down her face as she did so — she wanted nothing more than to take her hand and embrace her right there — but she held herself back, “I know you're still in there!”

She had to be. Kagami needed her to be. She couldn't lose Marinette now and certainly not like this either. 

At first, Marinette didn't show any reaction to her words. But then Kagami noticed the way her expression then shifted into one of shock. Her hand in which she had been holding Kagami's sword lowered itself slowly and Marinette's whole demeanor then changed in an instant. She was staring at Kagami as if she couldn't believe what she'd just heard. As if...

There really was still a part of the true Marinette inside this stranger that was still listening to her pleas. And all Kagami needed to do was bring her back to the light, from within the darkness in which she was trapped in.

[quickspinner]

WIP Wednesday 7/27/2022

I hate describing fashion. I was lacking inspiration for Marinette's dress and I searched 'red evening gown' just to get some idea of what she could wear that would have a few details I could mention, and then this slapped me in the face. I made some changes to accommodate the waltz scene that comes later but it really was just too perfect.

His breath caught when he saw her; she had outdone herself. She cut a striking figure among the pale gauzy glitteryness of Rose’s decor in a deep red brocade gown, qipao style and fitted through the waist and flaring out mid thigh into a skirt just narrow enough to keep the sleek lines of the dress, but wide enough to give Marinette freedom to move, with the hem floating just above the floor. He allowed himself a private smile at the way she worked around her clumsiness, but it turned into an inelegant gape when she took a step forward and pivoted to survey the room. The decorative line of pearls down the skirt edged a long slit and the back of the dress was open below the mandarin collar. Drapes of pearls from the collar and shoulders crossed her bare back in artful loops. A beautiful pearl comb sat in the pile of her hair, and strands dangling from it were woven through the locks that cascaded over her shoulder.

Sleek, with an edge, but still girly, neither the punk rock diva she had played with him nor the poofy princess that floated on Adrien’s arm. It made him happy to see her getting back to herself, finding her ground on her own.

Not to mention she looked hot as hell in it. God, she was gorgeous. He never forgot it, but sometimes there were moments where it hit him all over again. He could stare at her forever.

Stop being a creep, Couffaine.

[mochegato]

I Can’t Fight This Feeling

Inspired by this

Chapter 1 

 Ladybug only paused momentarily as she ran.  If you weren’t watching carefully, you would miss it entirely.  And nobody in Paris was, their attention too focused on the ongoing akuma battle and avoiding becoming collateral damage to pay attention to Ladybug swinging away from the battle.  Or rather, nobody but one persistent prowler, whose focus was and had been entirely on Ladybug.  

She threw out her yoyo, attempting to get as much distance as she could in her swing.  “Our shadow is back.  And they’re fast and good.  They’re keeping up with me.  Not sure I’m going to be able to outrun them,” she commented quietly, trusting her com to pick it up.  She paused for a second before giving an affirmative hum.  “Just you, Rena.  Chat, you stay with the akuma.  We don’t know what this thing is.  I don’t want to pull both of you off the akuma if we don’t have to.  It’s causing too much damage to leave unattended.  But, I’m almost out of time, so there’s a timer on this.”

She swung, ran, and jumped at top speed for another minute before she ducked behind a chimney and hid in an alcove.  The shadow would have to be extremely good to be able to trail her, or have magic of their own, both of which were definitely options.  They had been able to keep up with her for the most part and observe them in fights mostly unobserved, which no matter how well the general public and reporters thought they were, they weren’t.  

But this person, whoever they were, was that good. The only reason she knew about them was because Sabrina had joined them using Barkk for only the second time, the first time being seen by the public, so she’d been able to detect them observing from the shadows.  What Sabrina hadn’t been sure of was how dangerous they were.  Thus far they had only observed the miraculous team, they hadn’t made any moves.

But, it appeared they were tired of waiting and she was about to find out how good they were first hand, because he was, in fact, extremely good or magic.  She could hear him land on the other side of the roof.  His landing may have been almost soundless, but he clearly wasn’t magic, because she could still hear it.  She gripped her yoyo and tensed in preparation.  She crouched down and waited until he came into view before striking. Luckily, he had expected her to try to attack from above so he had been looking above and missed her, giving her the fraction of a second she needed to get her yoyo out and wrapped around him.

Unfortunately, he seemed to be able to react quicker than a normal human and was able to avoid the brunt of the string.  It wrapped around his arm instead of his body. Ladybug hesitated a fraction of a second.  She didn’t want to pull too hard.  If he was human, which despite the quick reaction time, he appeared to be, pulling too hard could cause irreparable damage.  Damage she wasn’t sure if the miraculous ladybugs would repair since it wasn’t really akuma related.  

He reacted immediately.  He wrapped his arm around the string again and pulled.  Ladybug fell off balance and sprawled forward. He reached out to grab her, but she twisted out of his reach.  The advantage of being so clumsy all her life, she knew how to direct her falls. She pulled her string back as she fell. It instantly detached from his arm and curled back to her.  Ladybug rolled out of the way of the boot that descended with a resounding thud where her head had been a few seconds earlier, leaving a slight dent in the roof where it landed.

Ladybug jumped up and backed away from him, twirling her yoyo by her waist as she scrutinized her opponent.  He was large.  He would give her dad a run for his money, but she seriously doubted he was as soft and gooey as her father.  His outfit flowed around him, but clung enough for her to tell that he had more muscle strength in one leg than she did in her whole unsuited body. He moved with grace and confidence that spoke of elite training and skills.  One thing was for certain.  He was definitely a threat.

“No words?” Ladybug taunted as she jumped up.  “I mean, I can tell you’re not an akuma or you would have demanded my miraculous already.  But not even a villain’s dialogue explaining why you’re doing it and your justification?”  The Shadow stared back at her, easing into an attack position.  “That’s fine.  I can work with that.”  She ran at him straight on.  He swung at her, but she veered at the last second and dropped to her knees, sliding past him.  She twisted as she slid.  Now facing him, she threw out her yoyo, binding his feet, and pulled.  He fell to the ground with a resounding thud.

She was running out of time.  She had maybe a minute left.  Not nearly enough time to immobilize someone with his level of skills. Her eyes darted around, searching for anything that could help her formalize a plan.  He took that moment to launch at her.  He dived at her midsection, which was insulting quite frankly, that he thought she could be captured so easily and with his feet still bound.  She realized too late, she wasn’t his target.  He held up her yoyo, shaking it slightly for her to see and releasing his feet. He tossed it over the side of the building and launched at her again in the same movement.

She flipped over him, pulling his hood off as she did. She landed immediately behind him and kicked her leg out to sweep his legs out from under him.  He jumped to miss her leg, but with his balance already off due to his earlier move he stumbled and crashed into the ground.  He turned to glare at her.  Ladybug gasped.  He couldn’t be much older than her, if at all.  He took advantage of her momentary pause to launch a volley of hits at her. She blocked them, but was having a hard time keeping up with the attack.  She was trying not to hurt him, but he was showing no such compunction. She just had to hold out until Rena could get to her.

She backed away from him, creating necessary distance between them.  She needed to distract him.  She wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long.  “Strong silent type, huh?”  She arched an eyebrow at him and channeled her best Thor with a cocky grin.  “I’ve fought stronger.”

“Not without your magic,” he answered calmly.  It was the first time she’d heard his voice.  It was deep and gravely, it didn’t match the young features, but it did match the harsh eyes.

And now she knew his plan.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to take her on while she was transformed and he knew she was running out of time.  He was running her out of time.  He was banking on his skill to overwhelm her civilian self, and with the training he had, he was right.  “Are you sure,” she asked as confidently as she could, plastering on a confident smirk.

He studied her for a few seconds before responding. “I’ll take my chances.”

She flicked her eyes to the horizon, diverting her attention.  It was a stupid mistake, one she knew better than to make, but she was getting desperate for backup.  The shadow grabbed her and pulled her closer to knee her in the ribs.  She managed to block the hit with her own knee, lessening the impact, which was still enough that if she hadn’t been wearing a suit, her femur would have shattered.  With the same momentum, she leaned forward and kicked over her head, catching him in the face.

He loosened his grip just enough for her to break his grip and jump away, but he jumped forward as well and sent another volley of attacks at her.  She gasped as she felt the familiar sensation of her suit melting away as she detransformed. She braced for the pain of impact his fist would have with her face from the punch he just threw.  After a second, she opened one eye to see what he was doing. His fist hovered less than an inch from her face, his eyes scanned her incredulously.  “You’re a kid.”

She looked from his fist to his eyes.  She took a beat to assess the situation and try to slow her wildly beating heart.  “You look like you’re the same age as me,” she said pointedly.  Was it her smartest move, sass instead of caution?  No, but it was the one that felt right.  And until she had a better idea what was going on, it was the one she was going with.

He stared at her unmoving for a few beats.  “You’ve been doing this for years.  It’s been you since the beginning, right?”  Her narrowed eyes and pursed lips were answer enough.  He lowered his fist and backed away a few steps.  Still close enough to react, but giving some distance.  “Fuck.  You were a baby when you started.  I’ve seen video of you dying.  Why would you choose that?  Who made you think you had to?  You should have gotten to have a childhood.”  

His voice was harsh and accusatory and it grated on her. He was attacking her and he was mad at her for… being attacked?  She scowled at him.  “I’m sorry, were you going to fight the akumas?  Because it seems like your priorities might be incompatible and somebody had to protect the people of Paris, try to defend the children of Paris.  And you’re awfully the same age as me for someone so judgmental of my age.”

“How about an adult instead of a kid?” he yelled back at her.  He let out a long, angry breath.  “And where is your mentor?  There’s a Guardian, right?  I’ve studied your fights and never saw an adult.  Why isn’t your mentor out here fighting with you?  What kind of depraved asshole just gives a few self-defense classes then sends them out on their own?”

Marinette scoffed before she realized what she was doing. She slapped a hand over her mouth and looked back up at him wide-eyed.  “You have a mentor, right?” he growled as he stalked closer to her with each word. “One that taught you how to fight? One watching out for you?”

“You’ve spent the last few weeks stalking me so you could attack, and I’m guessing, put me in the grave.  Why do you care?” she growled at him.

“Who is protecting you?” he yelled at her.  Her continued silence seemed to confirm something for him.  She was pretty sure now that the fury in his eyes was not directed toward her, which was… odd.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  Marinette backed away from him slowly and nodded to Tikki to grab a cookie from her bag.  

Her eyes searched the skyline for any sign of Rena. She was sure Rena would be here any second.  She just needed to last another few seconds.  If Rena couldn’t make it, maybe she could transform in time to save herself.  And then deal with a hostile knowing her identity. But that was a problem for later. The problem for now was surviving the Shadow, recharge Tikki, and defeat the akuma.

His head whipped to the side as a movement caught his attention.  A figure in orange was making their way over to them rapidly.  They only had a few seconds before the figure would join them. He hissed out a breath and backed away from her.  He gave her one last glare and jumped off the side of the building.

Chapter 2

@jasonette-july-event

[wintermelonbear]

Artistry

Pairing: Damian Al-Ghul Wayne/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Trope/s: Childhood Friends, No Powers AU

Summary: A story in which two seemingly dissimilar eight-year-olds build bonds through their love for martial arts. Written for the MGI Trope Tussle 2021.

Words: 4808

Damian and Marinette first met when they were 8 at his mother’s Wushu studio. At first glance they were an unlikely duo, before meeting in martial arts class their social circles ran entirely parallel with one another with Damian attending a private school that was a feeder for Gotham academy and Marinette attending a public elementary local to her, but they truly brought out the best in each other.

Damian had grown up inside his mother’s studio, working day in and day out from the tender age of 3 to improve his weaponry and martial arts skill. His mother and father, divorced but trying their best to co-parent for his sake, each preached to him about the importance of self-discipline and concentration. When his mother and her father, Ras himself a master martial artist, had competed in Wushu they were national champions. As a third-generation practitioner of Wushu, Damian had a lot riding on his shoulders.

Marinette’s mother had practiced Wushu as a child in China. When she first arrived in France she found herself disappointed that there were no local Chinese martial arts centers, let alone Wushu training centers. Sabine always thought it would be a passion she could pass down to her future child, but there was only so much she could teach on her own. However, as fate would have it, after a falling out with Tom’s father Roland the Dupain-Chengs found themselves in a city not too far from Gotham, New Jersey. Sabine was pleasantly surprised to find that the martial arts scene was much more alive there than it had been in Paris. However, between the bakery and her young daughter Sabine had little time to spend practicing martial arts. It wasn’t until Marinette’s kindergarten teacher suggested that Marinette be enrolled in a sport to better her hand-eye coordination that Sabine finally put her daughter into formal martial arts courses.

At first, everything was fine until it became apparent that Marinette was progressing much faster than her peers, despite her typical clumsiness she was surprisingly adept at martial arts. Sabine wasn’t entirely surprised as while Wushu was difficult to teach within the confined space they had at home, she still took the time to practice Tai Chi with her daughter on the weekends, providing Marinette with martial arts fundamentals and self-discipline. With Marinette’s slight inclination for martial arts paired with her hard work she was outperforming her classmates and even some of the older kids at the studio she went to. Eventually, Marinette found herself ostracized by her peers, but her teachers at the studio refused to advance her because they had an in-house rule where children could not be advanced more than two years past their age group. Tom and Sabine knew that pulling Marinette out of the sport entirely was off the table, the pure joy that spread across her face every time she mastered a new trick was proof enough that she was in love with the sport. So they set off to find a new studio to train at, where Marinette’s needs as a budding martial artist would be met. After looking around for a while, they decided to give Talia’s Wushu academy a try despite it being a little over a 30-minute drive from their house.

In regards to the first year of their friendship, Marinette would describe it as very professional, and almost nothing more. It took a while for Damian to become more cordial with her. When asked, Marinette would say “Damian didn’t like me, but he tolerated me enough as a partner because there was only so much practice he could have done alone.”

At first, Damian did not like Marinette at all, in fact, maybe he even hated her. When he first met her, Damian thought she was like every other “talented” kid that came into his mother’s studio, only to realize talent alone would get you nowhere in the sport of Wushu. On her first day, she immediately took up the spot next to him at the front and center of the class and offered him a warm smile, “Hello my name is Marinette, I’m new here.” Damian returned her greeting with a harsh tut of his tongue and the turn of his head, he was there to train, not to make friends. Marinette’s expression was aghast, but she quickly recovered and mumbled a soft “okay not talkative then…this is going great….” Damian suppressed an eye roll, simply because he knew his mother would not tolerate that in her classroom.

Against every one of Damian’s expectations, Marinette proved herself to be a hard-working individual. Eventually, after seeing her work on her technique and tricks after class during open gym hours, seeing that she wasn’t relying purely on natural ability and truly was putting in the effort to become a better martial artist, he began to tolerate her. The first time he returned her daily “Hello” with the nod of his head Marinette’s facial expression went from neutral to shocked to absolutely beaming. Damian simply raised his eyebrow and continued with his pre-class warmup.

Over time Marinette had grown a deep respect for Damian; she wished he was a bit friendlier, but despite their rough start Marinette realized early on that, while gruff and unfriendly, Damian was kind in his own way. He always pointed out when someone’s technique was wrong so that they wouldn’t hurt themselves, he always helped bandage someone up when they were hurt, and he always stayed after class to help his mom clean up. Most people would think he did it out of obligation or his mother’s demands, but Marinette loves people watching, and even after just a few months Marinette has observed that Talia would rather Damian use the time to better himself and will insist that she, or one of their workers, handle the menial tasks.

It was not until Damian saw Marinette work through her struggles that he gained respect for her. While Wushu is a largely performative sport where everyone’s moves are choreographed, Talia wanted to ensure everyone was also learning basic self-defense resulting in regularly held sparring sessions at the end of class. Marinette was a great performer, she was highly expressive and could easily recall choreography, but she had minimal exposure to actual sparring and her reflexes were not as sharp and trained like the others. She managed to win against her opponents in the first few classes by utilizing her creativity, but eventually, her lack of experience caught up with her and in her third month at the studio, she began her losing streak. Looking at her lose to her opponents time and time again he couldn’t help but wonder to himself, “will you still be here tomorrow?” Growing up in the studio, Damian knew that most of the people who were considered to be “gifted” had a tendency to drop out the moment things no longer came naturally to them, they grew frustrated with themselves and then with the sport. At this point, he figured he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Instead, the stage was set for her to become the most prevalent figure in his life.

Despite being in the same classes for over 3 months Damian and Marinette had never sparred. It was actually quite odd that they hadn’t yet sparred, the pairings for the most part were random. Talia reasoned that with the right circumstances even someone who seems weak could win; it was important to never underestimate an opponent and lower your guard. After bowing to one another their eyes met. If you asked them as adults they would unabashedly say that they love the other’s eyes, it was like staring at the calm before a storm. Their eyes were clear, fierce, and piercing. Despite being clearly disadvantaged Marinette showed no fear. She met his first few strikes blow for blow and even managed to evade a few of his strikes with a few unique tumbling passes – something Damian noted that she excelled in. He could tell she has been studying him, observing his strike patterns from his previous matches. Rather than reacting to his strikes, she was anticipating them – a smart move considering her reflexes were lacking. Unfortunately for Marinette, this meant that one unanticipated fake was all it took to defeat her.

That night during open gym hours Marinette approached Damian on her own for the first time. “There is only so much I can practice on my own, please train with me.”

“Why would I do that?” Damian held his face firm, his mouth in a thin line and his eyebrow slightly quirked.

Marinette’s eyes steeled over with conviction. “Did you know that every time you get up from xie bu you duck your chin down in your struggle to regain balance? It’s obvious you’re trying to shift your center of gravity. Instead, try leaning on your front leg from the beginning. The first few times you try this method, you should put a ball between your chin and neck to keep your head held up until you get used to it.”

“How did you–?”

“Notice? I love observing others, I can help you. There’s only so much we can practice on our own. I need help with my reflexes and you need someone who can review your performances. We can’t do this alone. You don’t have to like me, you just have to work with me. What do you say? Deal?”

“Tch. Deal.”

At first, their conversations mainly consisted of Marinette’s one-sided chatter during their warm-up, breaks, and cool-down stretches. It took a while for Marinette to get Damian to open up, but once she found the right topics she found that he was strongly opinionated about almost everything and shared quite a few hobbies with her. While Wushu was the common interest that brought them together, they were much more alike than they thought. They both enjoyed art, video games, and superhero shows to name a few common interests. Damian would say he would want to be a hero without any powers, someone who relies on their own skill to punish evil-doers. Marinette on the other hand would love to be a magical girl who could save others without causing too much damage. After hotly debating the topic of normal heroes and powered heroes, Damian and Marinette came to an agreement that both sides had their own set of struggles and perks.

Damian and Marinette found themselves spending more time with each other both inside and outside of the studio. After arguing over which type of paint was superior, Marinette was team watercolor because of its varied use, relative cheapness to oil paints, and blendability where Damian was a more traditional artist who believed that the blending capabilities of oil paint were just as good, if not better, and their longevity was worth the cost, the two decided to settle it with a paint off. Art sessions quickly became a biweekly tradition between the two, whenever the Gotham botanical garden would have a new exhibit Marinette would insist they go to sketch the flora. Damian quickly found that Marinette was almost as passionate about plants as he was about animals, with the way she flitted about the garden he couldn’t help but wonder if she had been something like a ladybug in her past life. There were also plenty of weekends spent sketching Damian’s pets, though Marinette would note that no drawings could capture what good boys Titus, Alfred the Cat, Jerry the Turkey, and Bat Cow were.

Together they found new ways to integrate Wushu into their hobbies, Marinette had plenty of friends at school who loved art and plenty of friends who did Wushu at the same center, but Damian was the only one she shared nearly all her passions with.

With their art, they began making flyers and posters for the studio, and banners to cheer on their classmates at competitions – Damian would argue he only did this because it would increase morale, which in turn would produce better results for the studio. Marinette struggled with the posters at first as a lot of proposed designs incorporated traditional Chinese characters, she couldn’t even write in Pinyin! Tom and Sabine had prioritized teaching Marinette about her French roots, in the event that one day they decided to move back to France, and neglected teaching her much about Chinese heritage. Marinette still learned basic conversational phrases: yes, no, please, thank you, and familial titles, but she was nowhere near conversational or fluent. After realizing Marinette did not know how to speak Mandarin Damian made it his personal goal to make her at least conversational before they would begin to travel internationally for competitions. Many of the major Wushu competitions took place in China and if Marinette was going to be his partner in the couples division he was going to make sure she was able to converse with any interviewers they may meet, and that if she were to end up lost – he swears Marinette was born without a sense of direction – that she could find her way back to him or their hotel. He hoped that while working on the banners he could work in a few lessons on traditional Chinese characters and simplified Chinese characters so that Marinette could at least read signs. Apart from art, reenacting scenes from video game cutscenes and superhero movies became one of their favorite activities, it became a way to train while still having plenty of fun. Sometimes after mastering a new move-in Ultimate Mecha Strike, they would break out the crash mats to test if the moves in the game were actually physically possible.

Even the hobbies Damian didn’t share with Marinette he was willing to partake in, and the fact that he was trying meant the world to Marinette. Damian was rarely physically affectionate in the first few years of their friendship, and it was even rarer for him to vocalize his emotions, and so Marinette quickly learned that Damian had a tendency to express himself through his actions. A lot of people failed to see how warm and loving Damian truly was, but Marinette saw it in how he interacted with everyone. For example, when Damian’s eldest brother opened up an acrobatics and gymnastics center Damian immediately volunteered to design and paint a mural on the outside that would more easily catch attention, Marinette watched him alter the design day and night and sort through hundreds of color palettes to ensure the pairing was just right. She saw his kindness through his interactions with his family and hers, the painting of her mom and dad baking, a gift from Damian for their 20th anniversary, hung up in the living room was more physical proof of it. When Marinette began sewing he proudly wore her designs and when she began to take commissions, he always kept her business card on his body in the event someone asked about his apparel.

One of Marinette’s fondest memories with Damian was when they decided to host a bake sale to offset the cost of international travel for the competition team. It was near the Mid-Autumn festival so Marinette and her parents decided to make mooncakes. Damian had some experience in the kitchen helping his mother make baozi and baklava, but he definitely wasn’t as experienced as Marinette who grew up in a bakery, yet he still came over to help them with the first few test batches and to help design packaging. Watching him carefully weigh out the ingredients her parents listed and chat about his favorite flavors with her parents in French filled her with so much warmth. The kitchen was filled with banter as a discourse between traditional baked mooncakes and skin mooncakes arose. Marinette and Sabine preferred snow skin mooncakes, the chewiness pairs well with pastes like red bean and taro, where Damian and Tom were strongly on the side of the more traditionally baked mooncake, arguing that the crumble of the pastry paired with fillings like salted egg and lotus paste was clearly superior. Marinette was unsurprised that Damian was strongly advocating for traditional flavors, but her father? The same man who made mustard macarons? It wasn’t until Marinette suggested thousand-layer mooncakes were simply croissants with a pasty filling that everyone else was willing to set aside their different preferences to unite against her. While the thousand layer mooncakes and traditional mooncakes baked, and the snow skin mooncakes steamed Marinette and Damian got to work on the packaging. In order to reduce cost, they had ordered plain packaging and planned to carve potato stamps with Mid-Autumn festival motifs: the moon, rabbits, flowers, fans, and lanterns. Despite having seen how proficient Damian was with a blade in training, Marinette was pleasantly surprised, if not downright awed, by Damian’s precision with a knife. By the time Marinette had finished carving out one flower Damian had finished three lantern carvings. After finishing stamping the final package Marinette daringly pressed the still paint-laden potato stamp onto Damian’s cheek which quickly devolved into a paint fight. The picture of Damian and Marinette covered head to two in paint was proudly pinned at the top of her corkboard, Marinette would never forget the sound of the kitchen filled with laughter that day.

Damian’s parents were extremely supportive of this arrangement. Talia thought it was a great opportunity, open gym hours were busy and she couldn’t give all her attention to Damian, having a training partner could really help him grow. If they got along well they could even enter paired events together! Bruce was enthralled that his son found someone to spend time with other than his friend Clark’s son, Jon. Jon and Damian were great friends, but Jon lived in Metropolis and so the boys rarely saw each other outside of business galas and Skype calls. It was nice knowing his son had someone he could spend time with in person, Bruce was concerned that Damian’s interpersonal growth would be stunted by his lack of interaction with his classmates at school. To see his son being a kid, laughing freely, filled him with great joy, he knew that being the son of a billionaire and a top-notch martial artist had put a lot of pressure on Damian’s shoulders, but he never knew what he could do to help his son. Seeing the walls in Damian’s room at the manor fill up with pictures of him and Marinette smiling, Damian smiling, made Bruce figure that everything was going to be okay.

Sabine and Tom grew to love Damian like their own son with the more time he spent at each other’s houses. At first, they were a bit skeptical, they didn’t quite understand what their daughter saw in the boy, but they trusted her judgment and boy are they glad they did. Damian was like a missing piece of their family, despite his hard exterior, the boy was extremely loyal and caring, they could always count on him to have Marinette’s back. Sabine especially had a soft spot for him after watching him correct Marinette’s brush strokes on the banners, teaching her the differences between what she wrote and what he was writing. The two watched their daughter give herself wholly to this boy, and in return, he gave himself back to her and that was all they could’ve ever wanted for Marinette, to love and be loved.

As they grew older they shared more than just common interests: their dreams, their fears, and the pressure they faced from their families. Marinette knew what she wanted for herself – something Damian was envious of. When they were 11 to offset the competition costs, Marinette’s mother began designing and sewing their competition outfits. Once Marinette saw what her mother was doing she wanted to help, and she ended up falling in love with fashion design. From the age of 13 and onward Marinette designed all of her own stage wear, as well as Damian’s. Sabine would joke that with such a talented daughter it’s a shame they didn’t stay in Paris. Damian wouldn’t admit it – Marinette would – but the thought of possibly never meeting Marinette made him feel uncomfortably empty; he wonders how he bore with that feeling before becoming close with Marinette. Damian wasn’t sure what he wanted for himself, he would love to take over his mother’s Wushu studio, maybe even expand it, but he was always raised with the expectation that one day he would inherit his father’s corporation. Despite loving both options, loving both his parents, there was also a part of him that wanted something that was completely Damian, he had already spent so much of his life living in the shadow of his parents. It wasn’t until high school that Damian opened up to Marinette about this, as the time to make decisions grew closer Damian naturally grew more anxious about his future. Marinette rarely gets the chance to comfort Damian, oftentimes he bottles his emotions up until they’re ready to burst, and even then Marinette has to slowly coax him into talking about them, even if it is with his brothers and not her, she just wants him to feel safe with his own emotions. The first time Damian opened up to her about the pressure he felt as his parent’s only biological son she immediately swept him into her arms, stroking his hair she began to tell him about how loved he was. She told him “Damian I love you, your family loves you, my family loves you. I just want you to know how loved you are. I speak not only for myself, but for everyone who loves you when I say this, do what makes you happy. Your parents will be happy as long as you are, they trust that they raised you to make good decisions for yourself. Even if you don’t know what it is that makes you happy yet, don’t be afraid to explore your options; I’ll be right here by your side and I’m going to support you no matter what. You’ve told me before that even if you inherit the studio Maya would co-own it with you, or even if you inherit your father’s business you would be working alongside your brothers. You are not alone, the world is not riding on solely your shoulders.” Damian was completely silent, if not for the wetness on her shoulder and his grip tightening around her, Marinette would figure he was unphased. Marinette has known that she loves this boy, far past the platonic love she just expressed, but for Damian, it was at this moment that he realized that not only was he loved, but he was in love with Marinette.

“WELCOME TO THE WORLD WUSHU CHAMPIONSHIPS 2019 LIVE FROM GOTHAM, NEW JERSEY” roared overhead on the speakers.

Damian and Marinette were standing in a hall away from the main room where other contestants were preparing themselves both appearance-wise and physically. Marinette herself was fixing the crown braid in her hair. The women’s event would take place in the morning to late afternoon, where the men’s event in the evening giving Damian ample time before he needs to warm up to support Marinette. He gave Marinette’s ensemble a once over and with his cheeks tinged red he muttered “I like your costume, you look really cute”, quickly averting his gaze.

Marinette immediately flushed, almost as red as the silken top that adorned her torso, and brought the hands that were adjusting her braids down to her hips and leaned forward, exclaiming in a hushed shout as to not disturb the other competitors warming up, “Damian Al-Ghul Wayne, are you making fun of me? I just want to make sure that any pictures taken do not make me look like a hot mess. Could you imagine what could happen if Audrey Bourgeois sees pictures of me completely frumpled looking and cancels my apprenticeship?? Oh my God and then Parson’s will find out and rescind me and then I won’t be able to visit you at NYU!” Marinette’s hands now rested on her cheeks smearing away her perfectly placed blush. How Marinette managed to go from disgruntled to spiraling in less than a minute is still a mystery that still eludes Damian after years of friendship, but it was his duty to calm her down. He understands her nerves, they had spent the last few years dominating the juniors division and as they entered the senior division there was a lot of pressure for them to win there too. Unfortunately, for every person who wanted them to win, another five were praying for them to slip up, but now is not the time to be overcome by nerves, her turn would come soon and she cannot afford to be overwhelmed by nerves.

Damian fully grasped her wrists pulling her hands away from her face, “Marinette, genuinely you look stunning”. After that comment, Damian noted to himself that it seems like there was no more need for the blush she applied anyways. With the soft tut of his tongue, he smoothed out the harsh lines of her smeared blush using the pad of his thumb. He whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, “Don’t worry too much about your hair and makeup, the most important thing is your form”. Marinette leaned into his touch and gave a small nod, calming down from her spiraling thoughts, he always knew how to ground her.

“Contestant number 54 you’re up next!”

“That’s you; you might want to fix up your makeup real quick, but everything is going to be fine.” He handed her a bag with her cosmetics and a wipe and quickly clapped his hands around her shoulders to guide her to the main stage so she could focus on herself.

Fixing her makeup Marinette shot him a cheeky grin, “wish me luck?”

“You don’t need luck. Marinette you have the skill, you know that.”

“Next up is Marinette Dupain-Cheng from New Jersey, USA! She is definitely a fan favorite to win today on the Women’s Taolu floor. She is internationally known for competing not only in the women’s division but also in the couples’ scene. She’s been training for the individual event from the age of six and for the partner event from the age of nine with her studio mate Damian Al-Ghul Wayne, who is predicted to win the Men’s Taolu event. While we do not have a couples’ Wushu competition here, since turning 18 they have been dominating the senior international couples’ Wushu scene and have gone undefeated.”

Taking off her team jacket, with a quick nod to her parents, Talia, and of course, Damian Marinette strode to the center stage. Damian would never grow sick of watching her transform on stage, it was strikingly similar to the magical girl shows she had been obsessed with as a child. The moment Marinette stepped onto the mat her whole demeanor changed. Her back straightened up, her head would be held high, and most of all, the look in her eyes was filled with inextinguishable fire.

By the end of the event after getting changed Marinette and Damian were making their way to his car. Once Damian turned 16 and got his license, it became a tradition for them to go out for a celebratory meal together without their parents. “Marinette!” Damian heard a voice call out, Agreste he noted in his head. Marinette had met Agreste and Tsurugi while vacationing in Paris. While they weren’t the worst, in fact, Tsurugi was typically pleasant company, Damian was in no mood to socialize after the several rounds of interviews he had to endure after winning first place in Men’s Taolu. Many of the interviewers failed to understand that while yes, he had more opportunities to train as he is a third-generation Wushu champion, it was his hard work that got him to where he was, not his genetics.

Seeing Damian continue on to his car, not wanting to keep him waiting, Marinette quickly bid them farewell with a promise to see them tomorrow. “Hey wait for me!” Marinette called out, running after Damian. Despite his pride usually preventing him from heeding to his peers’ commands, Damian stopped in his tracks, his breath shallow and wondering why Marinette’s voice still makes his heartthrob despite having heard it call out to him for over 10 years. Feeling her hands latch around his arm gave him a sense of comfort. Her grip was strong and steady, yet still gentle. He couldn’t help but envision his hand in hers instead of his arm. The bouquet and hand-painted card in his car were waiting to see if she felt the same.

[writtenvisionary]

please don’t hurt me.

wrote for the prompt “start a story with ‘please don’t hurt me’” sent in by an anon to @mlwritersguild!

Summary: Tom says something that strikes Adrien the wrong way. Sabine goes into mama bear mode.

tw - mentions of abuse, small panic attack

Read on Ao3

“Please don’t hurt me.”

Sabine Cheng stares, mouth agape, at her daughter’s boyfriend. Her heart clenches at the tremble in his voice; the quiver of his bottom lip; the shakiness of his hands. The words he had just uttered came at an unexpected time and she’s now realizing that there’s something very wrong.

Adrien had been coming to the bakery for weeks now, both to see his girlfriend and to learn the skill of baking. He never explicitly said it, but he left hints that father had been controlling his meals. Already having a daughter with a fast metabolism, she knew that it was important for teenagers to eat well and often; it’s imperative for their health. This is why she encouraged him to join their family dinners almost every night, and Tom had invited him to learn how to bake.

Getting out of his father’s grip was hard, she was aware. He had to lie consistently, both to his bodyguard and his father’s assistant, in order to have dinner with his girlfriend and her parents.

She notices how jumpy and skittish he can be sometimes. This behavior only ever increases around Tom, and she wants to believe it’s because he’s a big, burley man with a drive to protect his only daughter, but she knows it has to do with his father.

(But to be honest, she forgets these things sometimes.)

Like tonight, they had been rolling the dough for a new batch of bread and joking around, when Tom said something that struck a nerve.

He had said, “Don’t disappoint me, son.”

Tom meant it jokingly, as their previous conversation had been about how Adrien might want to pursue a degree in culinary arts when he goes to university, and he fully supports this decision.

Both parents realized too late that Adrien isn’t used to hearing jokes from the adults around him. Words like that are only said in a negative connotation around him, so they really should have known better.

Adrien had gone pale, pausing his kneading of dough, and his eyes lowered to the ground. She watched in growing concern as he gulped and clenched his fists tightly for a short moment.

After sparing a glance to her husband, she took a tentative step over to Adrien. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he violently flinched away from her touch. Her heart dropped.

“Honey, he didn’t mean it like that…”

Her attempts at consoling him fell flat, because he didn’t seem to hear her. His glazing eyes stared past her at a blank spot on the wall. His breath became shallow, and he brought his arms up to wrap around his chest as a form of security.

“Adrien, I—“

Tom stops short as the young boy in front of him squeezes his eyes tight and takes a step backwards.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

It was a feeble request, his voice shaking with every word.

“Adrien, honey, no one is going to hurt you,” she says softly, holding one of her palms up to show that she has no intentions of putting it near him.

He still doesn’t open his eyes, instead his breath quickens even more. Tom bites his lip as he leans towards his wife, then whispers, “He’s having a panic attack. I’ll go get Marinette and some water for him.”

As a silent thanks, Sabine places a hand on his large forearm, and sends him a sad smile. He walks away, leaving her with a panicking Adrien.

She’s not sure what to do; Marinette had never told her that Adrien experienced bad anxiety. Her daughter is keeping a lot of secrets from her (which she is frustrated about, because she should know certain things as her mother; but also, she understands that Marinette is a teenager and she’s happy to respect her boundaries), but Sabine wishes that this was something she had told her. That way she might be able to help.

The sound of footsteps trampling down the stairs makes her whip her head around, seeing Marinette running hurriedly towards Adrien.

She slows, letting out a slow breath as she takes in the situation.

“Kitty, hey, hey, hey…” she says loudly, but not loud enough to where it startles him. “I’m here. You’re panicking. Kitty, can I touch you?”

Subconsciously, Sabine wonders where the nickname ‘kitty’ came from, but that’s not something to worry about right now.

Adrien, his breathing still unchanged, manages to crack open his eyes into slits. They dance around the room wearily, before landing on Marinette. Sabine swears she can see his fists uncurl slightly.

“Hi, kitten. Could I hold your hand?”

It takes a minute for him to acknowledge that she had asked a question, but then he just barely nods. Marinette takes this opportunity to move closer, cautiously, and slips her hand into his’. She meets his eyes.

“Okay. I want you to tell me five things you can see right now. Anything.”

His lip quivers and he lets out a small whimper, before blinking out a slew of tears.

“Uh. You.”

Sabine is astonished at how Marinette is able to stay calm in this situation. Her smile to him is forced, but comforting, and the mother can’t shake the evidence that she’s done this before.

“Amazing,” she hears Marinette say. “What else?”

Adrien sniffs, shifting his eyes to the wall behind the girl in front of him. “Th-that poster.”

“You’re doing great, kitty. Three more.”

Tom joins Sabine, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. She exhales at the contact, watching as Adrien rattles off item after item, feel after feel, sound after sound, smell after smell, and can’t help but wonder how often her daughter has helped bring him down from a panic attack.

Another question she has is, what prompted this? She knows that he’s not used to hearing jokes told in that manner, but that’s not enough to send someone into a spiral. It was his reaction to the specific words said to him.

There's one thing she can figure out right away; Mr. Agreste calls Adrien ‘son’; that may have reminded him of the man. Adrien is a people pleaser; just the mere thought of disappointing someone could cause him to spiral.

Although, even with this information, she still feels like there’s a part of the puzzle missing. She replays the scene in her head over and over again until she can’t take it anymore, and nothing.

Words cannot describe how dumb she feels when Marinette talks to them, once Adrien is asleep in her room.

“His father is, cut and dry, mentally and physically abusive.”

Marinette speaks with such vindictiveness that it takes Sabine aback for a moment.

“Abusive? I know he’s a bit overprotective, honey, but—“

“Mom.”

Marinette’s tone makes Sabine stop in her tracks.

“He gaslights him constantly, telling him that he needs to be perfect and that if not, he’s a disappointment. That’s why your words struck something in him, dad. And Gabriel locks him in his room, doesn’t let him see his friends for weeks, and when Adrien can finally hang out with us, it’s only for an hour. He doesn’t join him for dinner — Adrien has to set a damn appointment to get this luxury — and hugs from him are rare. He’s neglectful and says things that hurt, and….”

Sabine’s eyes are wide in shock hearing everything. She’s sure that’s it, but when her daughter trails off, her fear only grows.

“What, sweetie?”

“…He hit him the other day.”

“What?”

It wasn’t her that spoke, but Tom. She glanced over to see him fuming. His eyebrows are narrowed and jaw is clenched. She can feel anger surging in her chest, as well.

Marinette shifts on her feet, seemingly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, and nods.

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but I met him for pa— for a picnic in the park, and his shirt rode up. A huge bruise was on his abdomen.”

Sabine felt that she was telling a white lie there, but there are more important topics at hand.

“Has Gabriel ever hit him before?” She asks, worried for the boy she considers a son.

Marinette shrugs, “Adrien hasn’t admitted it, but I suspect that he has. Its not the first time I’ve seen him with bruises. They’re in different places all the time, though, so I just passed it off as clumsiness… but…”

“But you’re clumsier than him and come home with less bruises,” Tom breathes, finally pulling his hands away from his face and looking at his daughter, who nods.

“Gabriel doesn’t even talk to him unless he does something to disturb the appearance of his brand and reputation. But when he ‘acts out,’ Adrien gets more than enough attention from him; the wrong kind.”

Tom gulps.

“Right. And who really knows what goes on behind closed doors?”

The room falls into a tense silence.

“I understand that you were just messing around, dad. It’s just… when those words are something he hears almost every day, he’s going to take it seriously. Especially when he was raised to be perfect, and any little mistake will get him punished.

“It’s a reflex. He trusts you, dad, but years of trauma build up.”

Marinette’s explanation helps the older couple understand the situation a bit better. Tom suddenly feels extremely guilty. He holds his head in his hands, grumbling to himself. Sabine rubs his leg, keeping her attention on Marinette.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner, Marinette?”

“I wanted to, and I was getting there. Adrien just…” she sighs. “He was afraid that things would get worse if someone found out.”

“Well, things will get worse before they get better…”

She looks to the ground. “I know. And he’s already been suffering so much that I…”

Marinette trails off, feeling her eyes well up with tears. Instead of fighting them, she lets them fall.

Sabine frowns, taking everything that’s been said into consideration.

“Do you have any proof of the bruises?”

Tom perks up, “Yes! If we collect evidence against his father, there’s a better chance to get him out of there.”

“I snuck a few pictures here and there. I wish I had a video, though…”

Sabine raises an eyebrow, “The mansion’s security cameras?”

She watches her daughter’s eyes light up, then dim, and then light up again. There’s a flash of determination in them, as well, and she can’t help but wonder what she’s planning.

“You’re right,” is all she says, before her optimistic facade turns sour.

“But I don’t know how I’ll get to them without being caught.”

The room falls silent for a minute as they all think about the best course of action.

Tom coughs, catching his wife and daughter’s attention. He shrugs.

“Is there anyone at that house Adrien can trust?”

“Umm. The only person I can think of is his bodyguard, even though we’ve run from him plenty of times,” Marinette says. “He’s pretty quiet, though, so I don’t know if he agrees with Gabriel’s parenting or not. I’ll ask Adrien, though.”

“I’d say it’s worth a shot. Every encounter with that man has been lovely. I’d like to think he’s still working there just for Adrien,” Tom says.

Sabine nods, letting her mind wander. She can’t help but think of every time Adrien has faked a smile, rubbed his arms, rocked back and forth on his feet… Every time he’s had dark circles under his eyes and the ghost of tear streaks on his cheeks... She’s starting to realize that those were all tells, and she should’ve noticed sooner. She feels guiltier than ever.

“Mom?”

Marinette’s voice pulls her away from her thoughts. She blinks, feeling tears gather in her eyes.

When had I started to tear up?

“Sorry, sorry! Let’s, uh—“ she pauses, not knowing what to say, before choosing her next words. “Let’s have him sleep here for the night and see what we can do tomorrow?”

Tom nods beside her.

“Yeah. It might be too soon to worry about all of this right now. Adrien will want to know that we know, too.”

Marinette sighs, “You’re right. He’s not going to be that happy about it. I mean, it took a while for him to understand that the way his father treats him isn’t right, but he’s still working out that concept with you guys. Getting the police involved will just overwhelm him more.”

“True,” Sabine agrees, “but I will not let him stay at that house any longer if that’s what he’s dealing with. No kid should ever go through that.”

She’s serious. No matter what it takes, she will make sure that no one hurts Adrien ever again. Especially not Gabriel Agreste.

[justcourttee]

I would love for like Adrien to find a lost 4 year old at one of his photo shoots and after conformting the child and trying to help him find his parents the kid yells mommy! And runs to damian and Marinette

So so sorry for being so inactive. It’s been a crazy semester and I haven’t been able to sit down and write as much as I had hoped. (Side note, If you sent a request, I promise I will get to it. I never overlook them unless they are the same request twice. I will only answer one if it’s the same prompt :))

There were three or four of these requests in my inbox all slightly different but based on this same idea! So I hope you enjoy this :)

Just Like You

Adrien knew one thing was absolute in this world.

Photoshoots always were and always would be the bane of his existence.

He thought that when his father left him in charge of the company so that he and Nathalie could travel the world, he could lay off on the photoshoots, hire some new faces. What a naive wish. He should’ve known that his father would have booked him to wear all of the upcoming designs and deadlines for the next two years.

“Alright guys, let’s call it quits for now and take an hour lunch. Everyone meet back here by 1.”

Adrien sighed as he slipped off the jacket he was wearing, handing it off to the intern before stepping out of their cornered off section of the park. What to eat for lunch was the only question plaguing his mind as he unconsciously stepped toward Andre’s cart conveniently set up a mere 20 feet from their site.  He was so close to his tasty snack when a cry pierced his ears.

His eyes swept the park looking for the culprit only pausing once they landed on a small child collapsed by the water fountain, their face buried in tiny hands.

Nobody seemed to be rushing to their aid, in fact, it was as if all of Paris was trying to ignore the girl’s cries as they scurried to wherever they were in such a hurry to be. Typical. His eyes glanced once more longingly at the ice cream cart before his feet turned on their path. He tried to approach as slowly as possible stopping a couple of feet from the child, careful to not scare her off.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

She didn’t even bother to look up, her wails echoing off the marble of the fountain. Adrien wasn’t sure what to do. He had worked with kids before in photoshoots, but he truly had no personal experience with them.

“Why are you crying?”

There was still no answer. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Just because he changed the question didn’t mean she was going to automatically talk to him. So instead, he remained crouched, hoping he could wait her out before his lunch break ended.

“Mom-Mommy told me not to talk to strangers sir.”

Her french was jagged, much like it was a language in progress. She was definitely from out of town. That concerned Adrien more than anything else. Hawkmoth may have fallen off the face of the Earth, but that didn’t mean every scum followed suit.

“That’s good advice from your mom. Is she with you today?”

Adrien regretted the words the minute they flew from his mouth. Her whole body stiffened as if she suddenly remembered her situation.

“I don’t know. She told me to stay put, but I saw this pretty butterfly and I thought it was one of mommy’s friends. So I tried to chase and after it and when it went bye-bye, I didn’t know where I was.”

Slowly, her head tilted to the side, her watery eyes drilling into his as if she wasn’t sure whether to cry or attack. The look, however, wasn’t what sucked all the air out of his surroundings.

“My God, you look just like her.”

The child turned her whole body, her face morphing from hostile to curious. It was as if some Akuma had hit Marinette Dupain-Cheng shrinking her to the size of one four-year-old girl. She was identical to the girl he had cared for save for her eyes. Instead of the mesmerizing blue he had gotten lost in so many times, they were a striking emerald green.

“Can we get some ice cream?”

Adrien blinked twice as if waking from a strange dream.

“From that cart over there?”

Her little finger nearly poked his eye out as she motioned behind him to where Andre stood.

“I-I-um,” his voice hadn’t cracked in years, was he going to hit puberty again? “I thought I was a stranger. You can’t get ice cream with a stranger.”

Gone were her tears and in their place stood a dazzling smile of tiny peals.

“You’re right, but you’re not gonna hurt me, mister. I can tell by your eyes. Daddy always tells me to check the eyes.”

Without another word, she skipped past Adrien forcing him to chase after her retreating figure. She had just reached the cart when a frantic voice stopped her order in its tracks.

“Amelia Martha Wayne, Where are you?”

“Mommy!”

It was as if she completely had forgotten about her ice cream as she pushed past Adrien’s legs leaving him frozen in place. That voice. He hadn’t heard it in so many months, so many years. It stilled his racing heart.

“Mommy, mommy, do you want some ice cream? This nice man was about to pay for some!”

Instantly Adrien felt his senses heightened. It felt as if he was seconds away from his death bed.

“I promise Marinette, it wasn’t like that!”

Adrien whipped around, his hands straight up in the air only to come face to face with a shorter, very angry face. His fist was already balled, raised in the air as if he was going to clobber Adrien from behind.

“Damian! Wait!” In an instance, a flash of black hair jumped between him and his would-be assailant. “I know him! You remember my partner, right? This is Adrien!”

The words didn’t seem to ebb at his anger, but he slowly lowered his fist, reaching down to scoop up the little girl instead. Adrien released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“That is you, right Marinette?”

He felt like time itself had frozen as she turned, that familiar smile blinding his vision. 

She had matured. Her smile no longer held the naivety and love from when they were younger, but it was just as bright and welcoming. He couldn’t help his own smile that pulled at his lips. She was just as intoxicating as ever. And she was-

His eyes landed on the small bump protruding from her stomach.

“Hey Kitty, it’s been a while.” Her eyes followed his to where they remained glued on her midsection. “Oh yes, a lot has happened the past few years. Please, allow me to introduce my husband Damian and our daughter Amelia.”

His eyes shot back up, the red swallowing his face as he shot his hand out to accept the man’s extended hand in front of him.

“Very nice to meet you Damian, and of course, you as well Amelia,”

The man didn’t utter a word, his face still contorted into the snarl he had upon arriving. Adrien felt as though his voice was stuck in the back of his throat. How could this small man be so intimidating?

“Set call! Ten minutes people, ten minutes!”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he yanked his phone from his back pocket. There was no way that he had wasted his entire break, he hadn’t even had lunch yet!

“I remember that sound, we should be heading out cause I doubt Amelia has given you any time to eat.” Her playful glare earned a giggle from the little girl who mouthed a sorry to him. “But we should catch up before we head back to the States! Just text me when you’re free.”

Her smile was still warm, her eyes still shining with love, but there was one difference from the Marinette he used to know. All of that love was no longer directed at him. He watched as she intertwined her hand with the man beside her, turning to leave the park, the giggle of her and Amelia echoing in his ears. He wanted to reach out, ask them to stay longer, watch the shoot for old time's sake. But as they retreated further away, he couldn’t find it in him to bring her back to the past.

He chuckled quietly to himself, turning to rush to Andre’s cart before he had to return to the life he had chosen.

“I’m happy for you Marinette and that little girl of yours, well,” he spared one last glance over his shoulder, Amelia’s smile just as blinding as the one from his childhood “she looks just like you.”

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb @glitterflowercat @ladybug-182 @maskedpainter @remy-289 @redbullgivescaswings

[miraculousluvbug]

WINGLESS | Ch. 2

***WARNING: Season 4 Spoilers Ahead

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: Of all the people Rena could let slip that she knows Ladybug's identity in front of . . . it had to be Chat Noir.

< < < THREE MONTHS AGO < < <

Ladybug swung from building to building, the exhilaration of a job well done fueling the fire in her veins. Traffic it would seem had resumed immediately, the sounds of wheels on pavement and cars obnoxiously honking ricocheting throughout the city’s architecture. This didn’t surprise Ladybug, seeing as the city had grown quite accustomed to akumas blocking the roads. Once the tips of her toes touched a rooftop, it wasn’t long before she was joined by another pair of boots.

“That went well,” commented Ladybug as she swiveled to face her teammate.

Rena Rouge folded her arms across her chest and popped a hip, lips puckered in a frown. “Are you kidding, girl?”

Ladybug’s face fell. No, she wasn’t kidding. She honestly had felt it went well. Was she missing something? Did a disaster strike while she was focused on her lucky charm? Had her Miraculous ladybugs not corrected all of the damage? Were there civilians hurt somewhere--

Abruptly, Rena clapped her hands on Ladybug’s shoulders and squealed, putting a halt to Ladybug’s internal meltdown. “That went amazing! We’re like a well-oiled machine, you and me. I still can’t believe I get to do superhero stuff!” At the sound of Alya’s impromptu shrieking, some pigeons nearby took flight, cooing what Ladybug imagined was a bird version of crotchety old people grumbling. Not even the least bit deterred, Rena leaned forward into Ladybug’s personal bubble, eyes wide with excitement. “But what I really can’t believe is that I’m doing it all with my best friend!”

Ladybug relaxed her posture and let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. But she quickly regretted it when she got a nice, big whiff of crepes, urine, and cigarette smoke. Ah, Paris. Home, sweet home. However, noticing her thoughts were veering dangerously offtrack, Ladybug shook herself mentally.

So nothing had gone wrong. Rena was just being Rena and drawing out the suspense. Ladybug patted her friend’s right hand--which was still firmly squeezing her shoulder--and smiled sweetly.

“It sure is convenient that I don’t have to hide from you anymore,” the spotted-heroine remarked. “I think half the time I took so long to get to a battle because I always had to come up with excuses.”

Rena grinned with a knowing glint in her eye. “I might be impressed if your excuses were actually good.”

Rolling her eyes, Ladybug turned away from Rena, causing Rena’s hands to fall to her sides. “Hey, you try having to come up with five hundred different reasons you have to flake on your friends and see if you fare any better.”

Rena was about to sass her best friend some more, but the words caught in her throat at the sight of Ladybug hugging herself. She recognized this stance. Ladybug’s head was in what Rena deemed the “Guilt Grotto.”

Rena stepped forward to wrap Ladybug in a warm, girl-you-better-get-your-head-out-of-the-guilt-grotto-or-I’ll-tickle-you embrace when there was movement across the rooftops in her periphery. She craned her head to the right to find the familiar silhouette of Chat Noir vaulting his way over, a goofy grin clearly plastered across his face the closer he got.

In a matter of seconds, he landed squarely beside Ladybug, startling her. Ladybug, the epitome of grace that she was, did a series of awkward hand gestures before falling back on her bum, shrieking.

Chat Noir didn’t even look a teeny bit remorseful.

“Looks like I got here just in time!” he quipped, bowing and sliding his baton back into place on his suit.

Rena held out a hand for her friend as Ladybug voiced her question: “In time for what?”

Chat bounced on the balls of his feet. “Well, for the akuma, of course! You guys were having a quick team meeting, right?”

Rena and Ladybug shared a look. So that’s what he was so happy about. Ladybug opened her mouth to reply, but Rena beat her to it.

“Actually, we already took care of the akuma.”

Chat Noir visibly deflated. His ears drooped and his belt tail started to swish back and forth. “Oh.” He turned to the edge of the rooftop and hunkered down, letting his legs kick to and fro in an attempt to get rid of some of the adrenaline.

Ladybug winced. Chat did not sound happy. Hesitantly, she sat next to him. Rena then took a seat beside her, making her the middle. “Sorry, Chat. I know you like battling akumas more than I do.”

Chat nodded before murmuring, “Thirteen.”

“Hm?” Ladybug scooted closer to him to hear him better, their legs nearly touching. She leaned to her right to get a better look at his face and tilted her head innocently. If she were Marinette then, she might have fallen off the rooftop altogether, but she was Ladybug, and Ladybug had way more poise.

Chat didn’t answer immediately. Whatever it was that he was about to say, Ladybug knew it must be something important if he, the guy who was always upfront about his feelings, found it difficult to say. The guy who told her . . .

It’s precisely when something is important that it’s important to say it.

No matter what.

Ladybug gingerly rested a hand on his arm, hoping he understood what the gesture meant. It’s okay. Take your time. I’m ready to listen.

After a few more moments of staring at his feet, Chat Noir lifted his head so his eyes bore into Ladybug’s. They creased with . . . Was that worry? Sadness? Fear?

“Thirteen,” he repeated, a bit louder. “That makes it thirteen times you and Rena have battled an akuma without me. Since Montparnasse Tower.”

Ladybug was speechless. As she stared ahead, eyes unfocused, she tried her hardest to recall all the akuma battles. It was challenging as her memory loved to fail her when she needed it most. Had he really not been in any of those battles? Had it really been thirteen times?

Had he . . . had he really been keeping count?

Ladybug didn’t know what to say, but she knew she had to say something, anything. But what could she say? Was she sorry?

No, she couldn’t be sorry that the akumas had been defeated, that the victims had been rescued, that she had been able to do so quickly because Alya had been spending a record amount of hours by her side.

She couldn’t be sorry about any of that. She was only sad that he felt sidelined.

That was not her intention.

But she knew what the solution to that was.

And she would rather die before she let Chat Blanc see the light of day.

Somehow, knowing her identity had led to him being akumatized. Somehow, whether it was in an alternate timeline or when their memories had been wiped by Oblivio, she knew that what he said at Montparnasse Tower--that to know him was to love him--was truth. And Chat Blanc had told her what their love did.

Their love destroyed the world.

Their love had killed her.

Their love broke the moon, for crying out loud.

But, most importantly, their love hurt him.

Chat Noir had told her he loved her, many times, and she had even been considering giving his pun-spurting, jokes-at-the-worst-times self a chance. But being forced into combat with her akumatized partner had violently squashed any hope she had for them, for LadyNoir as Alya coined it on her blog. Ladybug would be damned if she allowed that to happen again. And if that meant encouraging him to move on even though it broke her heart . . .

Well, it wasn’t supposed to be easy being a hero.

Ladybug had this entire conversation with herself in a matter of seconds. She was careful not to let her face expose any of her innermost feelings, instead sporting an expression of neutrality. What she ultimately decided to do was tell him the only truth she had to offer. He hated secrets and she hated lying. What a pair they made.

“I wish it could be different,” she whispered.

And oh, how she did. She desperately yearned to tell him who she was, to know who he was, to tell him about Alya and Nino and all the other people she had entrusted with a Miraculous.

She wanted him to know how she grew up, what kinds of things she did at school, how she was utterly ridiculous when it came to her rotten luck (and she tried very hard to push a certain blue-eyed blonde out of her head the moment that phrase came to mind). She was sure he would snicker at all the times she made a fool of herself in front of Adrien, of all the ways she made her own life a living hell with her clumsiness.

Or perhaps he wouldn’t laugh. Perhaps he would pat her shoulder and uplift her with words of encouragement. She didn’t know. After the stunt he pulled with the balcony of candle-lit roses, the boy was a wild card, an enigma. He was complex.

And it thrilled her.

But no matter how she felt about him, they couldn’t know each other that way.

Sighing quietly, Ladybug brought her knees up to her chest and turned away from Chat Noir. If she had been watching him when she responded, she might have seen him look longingly at her, but she didn’t.

Rena Rouge did, though.

Wanting to make her friends feel better, Rena added, “Don’t you worry your pretty kitty head about it. I’m sure all those battles would have taken way longer if we weren’t already together.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir both stiffened. Chat’s gaze flicked from Rena to his partner over and over before they finally rested on Ladybug. “Uh, what does she mean by that?”

Ladybug shot a glare in Rena’s direction, but her eyes softened when she saw that Rena genuinely appeared surprised.

He didn’t know? Rena’s eyes asked Ladybug.

He didn’t know, Ladybug’s affirmed.

One would think Rena was Lady Luck because her pendant had decided that that moment was the best time to beep, and she couldn’t agree more. Now she had an escape route from this conversation. “Welp,” she clapped her hands together, “I’m gonna go chill in that fine-lookin’ alley over there.”

Before Ladybug could agree, Rena sprang from her spot and promptly disappeared. She was a regular magician, and her latest trick was leaving Ladybug with a rabbit to put back in the hat.

Or, er--a cat back in the bag. Whatever.

“What she meant by that . . . ” Ladybug began slowly, like she was addressing a wounded animal. Which, maybe she was but just, you know, emotionally wounded.

“Yeah . . . ” prompted Chat, signalling that he was not going to drop this.

Ladybug quickly jumped to her feet and began her ritual of frantic pacing. “Look, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while, but I didn’t know how to because I knew it would raise questions that I couldn’t answer--”

A blonde boy in white leather with somber blue eyes appeared in front of her and she dug her heels into the cement, skidding to a stop.

Chat Noir was behind Ladybug now, his voice soft and curious. “Bug?”

Ladybug was frozen in place for a few more seconds before she shook her head hard enough to give herself shaken-baby syndrome and nodded, satisfied that the aggressive head-shaking had rid her of he who shall not be named. She whipped around and started.

Chat Noir was incredibly close.

She didn’t know he had gotten this close.

Geez, his eyes were really cat-like.

He also had a really cute nose--

Ladybug, FOCUS!

Ladybug took a step back. She made it her mission to ogle his bell instead of looking into his dumb kitten eyes. “You--” she began, but Ladybug’s throat was suddenly dry. She gulped. “You know how much I hate secrets and lying. And I know how much you hate secrets and lying. So I’m not going to lie to you. But I may not be able to answer the questions I’m sure you’ll have, so please . . . ”

Ladybug grabbed one of his hands then and held it firmly between her own, pleading with every fiber of her being that this would communicate how much he meant to her even though she knew what she was about to tell him would make it seem like he didn’t mean anything.

Please forgive me, Ladybug’s heart supplied.

When he didn’t immediately take his hand back, she looked up at him. She looked into those dumb kitten eyes and knew without a shadow of a doubt--

She was a masochist.

This was going to hurt. He didn’t like when she was the only one to know Rena’s identity. He definitely wasn’t going to like that Rena knew hers. This would be so much easier if she wasn’t ogling those big, emerald green, beautiful, brazenly dumb kitten eyes.

But she was a masochist. And she needed to see them while they still held love for her.

“I told Rena Rouge who I am.”

There. She ripped off the band-aid. Straight to the point. Zero room for interpretation. After all, her worst arguments started because of her clumsy miscommunication.

Ladybug braced herself for an explosion. She had played this moment in her head a couple hundred times since exposing herself to Alya.

Yelling. There was always yelling.

Sometimes, he stomped away while doing that weird T pose where his fists didn’t connect to his hips . . . a pose she herself was guilty of, too.

Others, he chastised her about her thoughtlessness--to which she responded that she definitely thought about it long and hard that day.

Ladybug braced herself for an explosion because she was sure there was going to be one, especially after seeing him upset about her always running off to Master Fu. He hadn’t even known there was a Guardian for a while.

What she hadn’t braced herself for was the expression on his face.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

His head was bowed.

His eyes were closed.

A lone tear slid down his cheek.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Her heart thudded against her ribcage, screaming at her to run because he wanted her Miracul--!

No! She refused to finish that thought.

Her head yelled back that he wasn’t akumatized right now, that she wasn’t back there, that she wasn’t with him. She desperately tried to shove the image from her mind. This was more than she could bear. She just--she couldn’t take it! She couldn’t take it because . . .

Because . . .

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Because he looked just like him.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

He looked like Chat Blanc.

-----

Heya! Thanks for reading. ❤ Check out my Instagram for Wingless updates. I'm also posting pieces of a Wingless cover with each chapter update!

(2/?) Previous | Next

[thewritingstar]

I Wont Cast You Aside

Pairing: Marinette x Chloe 

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug 

Word count: 5k (was suppose to be 1k but I wanted a bigger story line) 

Note: This is a commission for the wonderful @wombatking I want to thank you for not only commissioning this but trusting me with a pairing I haven’t written for yet. One thing about writing fics for a new pair is the fear of not being able to capture them together. I rewrote this beast so many times and I hope that you enjoy it! 

Thank you for being so patient with me and I really hope you like it :) Also yes, the title is a pun, I couldn’t resist. 

                                        ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

There's a rush of adrenaline in her system as she takes off running. She ignores the yell from Ladybug and soon the wind is all she can hear. The streetlights of Paris swirl into a bright blur as she practically flies from rooftop to rooftop. Nothing can stop her as her target is locked in sight and she can feel a victory coming.

For months she's been gaining traction and skill. All she wanted was to prove to Ladybug that her choice shouldn’t turn into a regret. That she was meant to be Queen Bee.

Another jump and she's closing in. She can almost feel the energy of the akuma buzzing within that cursed object. Her eyes narrow and she calls out for her spinning top while activating her venom. It's over now. That's what the blonde tells herself as she sends the weapon spinning through the night and wraps it around the leg of the villain of the day.

Pride. It swells through her as they go down with a thud. They won, a victory that has her name stamped on it and she wants nothing more than to have Ladybug and Chat Noir beside her to finish off the job.

She turns to look for them but all she sees is the stars dancing on the horizon. It's strange and she can feel her stomach twist in a way she doesn’t like.

A dark chuckle comes from the villain below.

“Ladybug?” She whispers to herself and as she turns towards her voice, there's a louder sound that rings through her ears. “Ladybug?” She calls out louder. She doesn’t understand. They were right behind her. She wasn’t that far, they had to have followed her.

“No one is coming.” The villain says.

Queen Bee looks at their eyes but there's nothing there. No sense of emotion can be found and for a second, she wonders if they are alive. It's terrifying and she feels alone. Their laughter turns to an uproar.

“You’re nothing!” They scream as they try to jolt towards her. “You’re a waste of space. A hero with no merit.”

The ground below her starts to sink like quicksand. Her throat goes dry, and she tries to scream but nothing comes out. Pain shoots through her body and she can feel tears streaming down her face as the world above her disappears and she falls into a darkness.

“Ladybug!” She manages to yell but the light above is cut from her view and now she's falling.

Her body is weightless and every fear she's had is echoing around her like a cave of personal torment. A golden flash surrounds her, and she can feel the power drain from her system. Pollen stares at her with lifeless eyes as the comb hovers in her face, taunting her as the gold turns black like ink.

“You were never a queen.” Pollen spats.

It crumbles into dust as her lungs squeeze from the scream leaving her lips.

“Pollen!” Chloe cries but she's nowhere to be found as the dust surrounds her in the dark.

                                          ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Chloe wakes with a jolting start.

She looks around to see herself in her room. No plunging darkness or a disappointed Pollen. The voice of Ladybug isn’t calling out to her. She's in her bed safe and sound. Her heart rate is skyrocketing as she tries to catch her breath. She turns to the clock and sees that it's barely four in the morning. The nightmares had been happening more and more. Nights become restless and her body is starting to move to the brink of exhaustion.

That night of her failure plays on a repeat. It's like a broken record. The face of the villain staring at her as she falls, the scream coming from her throat and both Ladybug and Chat Noir’s voices echoing in her ears. No matter how many times she has it, the fear doesn’t leave.

“It's just a nightmare.” She tells herself, but she can see it and feel it so clearly that she isn’t sure if it's just her imagination.

Chloe grabs a tissue from her nightstand and wipes the sweat off her brow. All she wanted was a peaceful night of rest but apparently that's too much to ask for. Her stomach feels like it's turned upside down as she makes her way to the bathroom, moving slower than what she was used to.

Cold water splashes against her face and she stares at the mirror to a face that looks paler than usual. Bags have formed under her eyes and not even her imported skin care can undo the damage of losing sleep. Even the blue of her eyes had seemed to lose their brightness.

“You’re okay.” She whispers with a shaky voice and swallows hard. “You’re okay.”

It's the only thing she can say to herself. The only thing that can calm the storm from within until the nightmare strikes again.

She makes her way back to her bed that feels more like a prison at this point. Bedrest sounded so glamorous at the time but now that she's been stuck here for almost two weeks, she wanted nothing more than to leave. She is afraid to close her eyes. Afraid that when she does, the darkness will form once again.

Suddenly there's a knock on her balcony door, it breaks her from her thoughts. There's hardly any wind tonight and the trees had just been cut so there's no way for the tree to reach the glass. For a moment she wonders if it's another akuma. Maybe she wasn’t awake after all, and her nightmare is continuing. The door gets another knock.

Her eyes narrow towards the door, but the shadow of a figure suggests that the wind wasn’t the culprit. She recognizes the figure instantly.

Her stomach goes into a knot and shame fills her heart. A part of her didn’t want to open it. She’d rather not face the superhero again but knows that's not possible. Instead, she huffs and manages to get over to the door without falling over.

She opens the door to Ladybug who stands in front of her with flowers and a soft smile on her face. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Chloe steps aside and lets the hero pass by. “It's four a.m.”

“I know, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Haven’t gotten the chance to see you.” Ladybug looks down at the cast that adores Chloe’s right leg. Guilt washes over her and when their eyes meet, she knows she was caught staring.

Chloe nods and bites her lip, trying to ignore the look on Ladybug's face. “It's fine, you’re busy.”

“Queen Bee.” Ladybugs starts but Chloe raises her hand to stop her as they sit on the couch for more comfort. She wants to tell Chloe every single apology in the books. Tell her it's her fault she got hurt and to make sure she knows she's going to do anything in her power to help her out.

Instead, Chloe frowns. “Ladybug, don’t.”

“Chloe.” She had brought her a bouquet of bluebells and marigolds, her favorite and she wonders how she knew but also doesn’t question the gift. “I’m so sorry.”

This was a surprise. She looks at the superhero, distress clear on her face. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who got hurt.”

“On my account. If I stayed with you, your foot wouldn’t be broken and don’t try to change my mind on that. I couldn’t reach you in time. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”

Chloe holds her tongue but then again, she's not one to keep quiet. “I don’t blame you. It's not your fault nor Chats. I was clumsy and too eager, but I learned my lesson. I’ll be fine, it's a clean break anyways.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I should have protected you better.”

“We all make mistakes, but you aren’t the reason I broke my foot.” She lets out a sigh. “Maybe it's for the best.”

“It's not.” Ladybug frowns and shakes her head. “I just want Queen Bee back by my side. I want you back on our team.”

The blonde looks towards the flowers, a sense of comfort washing over her. “I’m surprised you even want me on your team.” Her voice is low and she's trying not to cry but it hurts too much to think that her time as a superhero is done just because she was reckless and in a cast. An ugly white cast that clashes with every clothing article she owns. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

A laugh bubbles from Ladybugs lips. “Of course, I still want you! You’ve grown so much over these past few months and sure, it was a rocky start but look at you. You’re a member of this team Chloe. Chat and I can always rely on you in a pinch.” And she means it. Chloe of course doesn’t know her true identity and maybe she doesn’t quite believe her words, but Ladybug does.

She smiles at the blonde who just happens to be her girlfriend in her civilian life and she's trying to keep her guilt at bay. The moment she found out Queen Bee had broken a leg, she blamed herself. Tikki tried to reason with her, begged her to see the bigger picture and that accidents happen. If it was anyone's fault, it was that damned Hawk Moth.

A small weight comes off of Chloe’s shoulder as she relaxes. “Thank you, Ladybug, that means a lot.” Chloe smiles and wipes her eyes. “I promise I’ll get better soon; you can count on that!”

“I know I can.” Ladybug smiles and stands. “I should get going, it's late-or well, early. Take it easy Chloe and if you need anything, just holler.”

Chloe watches as she leaves through the balcony door. She looks at the arrangement of flowers and a small smile forms on her lips. Grabbing her crutches, she manages to get to her bed much easier than before.

Her eyes flutter close and for the first time in a while the nightmare doesn’t greet her.

                                         ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

It's odd. The limo pulls up to the school and yet she doesn’t want to leave. The moment the word got out that Queen Bee had gotten hurt, and her civilian form was now stuck in a cast, chaos within the press had broken out.

She was used to the flashes of cameras, being the mayor's daughter had some publicity perks, but she didn’t like the limelight on her injury. She wanted to be treated normally. People began to treat her like she was made of glass. She wasn’t. She was fine. Yeah...she was fine.

Even her friends saw her differently. Adrien seemed on edge when visiting her as if he personally caused it. Little did she know the fear he was holding as he handed her flowers and told her that he can rely on her for anything. Sabrina tried her hardest not to overwhelm her with concern, but the redhead had burst into tears when she had seen her best friend being bandaged up.

Flowers had started to pile up in her room that she sent them to decorate the lobby of the hotel and even offered others the chocolate she had been gifted. Even many fan letters addressed to Queen Bee had begun to show up and although she adored the attention, reading them while stuck in bed had begun to feel like she had let everyone down.

All she wanted was for people to say their comforting words and go on with their day. Of course, seeing all of her friends standing on the steps of the school to greet her with smiles was a step in the direction she was aiming for. She knew that all of their hearts were genuine, and she didn’t mind each of them personally visiting her. They cared about her, and she was happy to know that she had people who did.

Over the past few months, she has grown into a better person. She was tired of being seen as the mean popular girl and learned that making friends with compassion and kindness was always the better way. After all she had learned first-hand from her girlfriend.

Out of the crowd Marinette stepped forward. She held out her hand to help Chloe out of the limo and grabbed her bag so she could get onto her crutches.

“Hi.” Marinette said with a smile and kissed her on the cheek. “How are you doing?”

In all honesty, she was exhausted. Tired of this ugly cast, tired of being treated with kid gloves, tired of it all. But the one thing she would never get bored of, was her girlfriend and those beautiful blue eyes that held care and affection.

The blonde forced a small smile onto her lips. “I’m doing alright, but I would feel better if you walked me to class.” She looked towards the rest of their friends and smiled. “Don’t worry these crutches won’t stop me from being fabulous so no need to get worried.”

“Happy to have you back.” Adrien smiled as many heads nodded in agreement.

“Sabrina told me that she has all of your notes in your locker.” Marinette said right as the bell rang.

Chloe huffed. “I forgot that I still have schoolwork. This is ridiculous.”

“Utterly ridiculous?” Marinette giggled just as Chloe’s cheeks flushed.

As they started walking, Chloe took Marinette's hand. “I’m really happy to see you.” She whispered.

“You’ve seen me for the past three days straight.” Marinette responded.

“I know but you make everything so much better, even if you do nothing but just be in the same room as me.”

“Aww Bee.” She blushed. “I like being around you too.”

They reached their classroom just as the bell rang signaling that class was about to start. Marinette dropped off Chloe’s bag and helped her into her seat. “I’ll see you at lunch.” She winked and went to her seat next to Alya.

                                          ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Marinette stared at the back of Chloe’s head the entire day. Although she had seen her as Ladybug the night before, it didn’t help the fact that the guilt was stirring around her. Again, and again, she tried to remind herself that it wasn’t her fault. That her girlfriend falling from the rooftop and waking up with a broken leg was just a mishap with an akuma.

It didn’t help though. She could see it in Chloe's eyes. The desperation on her face when she was told that the cast would be there for a few months. Those crutches would become a new normal and she wouldn’t be able to do certain activities with her friends such as swimming just as the sun was coming out. It wasn’t fair and she felt like she let her down not only as a superhero, but as a friend.

There was something off about Chloe as she went through the day. At lunch, people gave her some flowers and offered to sign her cast, but she had declined any signatures. Marinette offered her company on the bench and held out a small box of sugar cookies. “I made these last night for you.”

She could see Chloe’s shoulders instantly relax a little and a small beam of pride was felt as Chloe took the box and thanked her.

“I was wondering if you wanted me to come over tomorrow night. My mom and dad are out for the weekend on a delivery so I would be alone.” Marinette said. “I was thinking of a movie night, and I made some designs for your cast and crutches.”

There was a part of Chloe that wanted to be by herself. However, the other side of her wanted nothing more than to be cuddled up next to Marinette while a movie played in the background. Her social battery was becoming challenged lately but Marinette only seemed to add energy as she never got tired of being around her.

“Honestly, I could use some girlfriend time. I love my dad, but he's been babying me and although I’m in a cast, I can still handle myself. Plus, I can hardly stand this ugly thing.” She tapped on her cast. “Tomorrows perfect.”

“Awesome! I’ll bring over my art supplies and a bunch of movies.” Mari smiled and kissed her on the cheek as the bell rang. “Here let me get your bag.” She offered and put it on her shoulder.

“It's alright, I can probably carry it myself.” Chloe tried to reach for it but instead Marinette took her hand and placed a kiss to her knuckles.

“I’m sure you can but I would like to carry my girlfriend's stuff.”

“Alright Dupain-Cheng. Just let me know when you get tired of it, all we need is for you to fall down the stairs and get put into your own cast.” Chloe teased.

Marinette rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m not that clumsy.”

“Of course not. But you are cute.” She winked and started to walk to class leaving a flushed Marinette behind.

                                        ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Everywhere she looked there was glitter. It was as if someone had taken all the sparkle particles in the city and sent them straight to her bedroom. Yellows, purples, golds and pinks of all shaped plastic that was as tiny as the tip of the pin covered her hands.

“Mari, I love the enthusiasm but am I going to have to get my room deep cleaned?” Chloe asked as she wiped her hands on a towel and yet the glitter still shined across her palm.

Marinette giggled as she grabbed another paintbrush and dipped it into black paint. “It will come out soon, or in a day-maybe even a year.”

The blonde wanted to be annoyed that she could potentially wake up covered in the stuff but seeing her girlfriend enjoying herself as she decorated those ugly crutches was enough to make her okay with the sacrifice of her rug.

“Well as long as my crutches look better than anyone’s ever had, I don’t mind.” She smirked.

“I’m sure they will. And done!” Marinette exclaimed and stood up to examine the crutches. “What do you think?”

Chloe always knew that Marinette was an artsy person, anyone could tell that just by looking at her. No matter how many times she was shown her work, she would always be in awe at how amazing it was.

The crutches had gone from a dull light grey to a masterpiece. They had been painted a light yellow and had black flowers all around them. Small bees were hidden all around and had glitter on top to add a little extra flair. Even the cushions that her arms rested on were now wrapped with black fabric.

“They look stunning.” Chloe gasped.

“A Queen Bee theme for a queen.” Marinette smiled and placed them against the wall so that the paint could dry. “They should be dry in a couple hours so if you need to move around, I’ll help you around.”

“Thank you, Marinette, I love them a lot.”

“Anything for you.” She kissed her cheek. “Now are you ready for the cast? I was thinking of painting sunflowers and then our friends can sign the petals to make it even more special.”

“That sounds lovely.” Chloe says as Marinette moves her leg, so her cast is sitting in her lap.

“Perfect! Will you pass me the yellow paint?” She points.

Chloe reaches to the bucket of paints and picks out the tube of yellow and hands it to her. Her eyes shift over to her crutches, and she focuses on the bees. She loves it and thinks it's pretty, but her chest still feels tight when she thinks about her being Queen Bee.

“Marinette, can I tell you a secret?” She whispers and she feels like she wants to take the words back when Marinette looks up at her.

“Of course, always.” She responds and sets her brush down.

“I shouldn’t be Queen Bee.”

Marinette's eyes shot wide open as she's shocked from the words that left her lips. “What? Why would you say that?”

She expected her to react like this but something about the look in Marinette's eyes makes her wonder why she looks so upset. She suddenly feels so small, and she knows that if she speaks, tears will follow.

She feels Marinette take her hand. “Is this because you got hurt?”

Chloe sniffles and she turns her head away. “It's more than just that. It's nightmares and letting everyone down.”

“Chloe.” She frowns. “You didn’t let anyone down.”

“It's ridiculous Marinette. I really thought that I could be this amazing superhero and be helpful. Instead, I was a fool that almost cost us the win. Ladybug told me that the miraculous would be waiting for me once I’m better, but I don’t think I should go back. I can’t mess up again.” Chloe looks at her and now she can see it.

She can see the heartbreak in Chloe’s eyes. The bags from hardly any sleep are showing up and she wishes she noticed sooner. Every time she had visited Chloe, she never talked about the nightmares, or the cast and she didn’t want to bring it up herself. It's weighing on her and all she wants to do is reach out and take away the pain.

Tears gather in Marinette's eyes. She had never seen pure devastation on her girlfriend's face or seen how vulnerable she is allowing herself to be. The conversation she had when she was Ladybug comes back. She takes a breath because she isn’t sure her words would work when Ladybugs didn’t do so well.

“You know what I admire about you?” Marinette starts and cups her cheek. “You have a remarkable amount of bravery. It's okay to mess up and make mistakes, but what really counts is if you get back up again.”

A sigh leaves the blondes' lips. “I don’t know.”

“I can see it in your eyes Chloe. No matter what, you love helping people as Queen Bee. Getting hurt doesn’t make you a bad superhero. It makes you human. No one will blame you for being scared to go back out there. You have so much courage just considering it. I believe Ladybug when she says she wants you back out there. You’re amazing and I wish I could show you how great you are.”

“Do you really think she means it? That she’s waiting for me?” She asks.

“Definitely. Ladybug would never cast you aside.” She reassures her.

Through her sobs Chloe let’s out a laugh. “That's exactly what Chat Noir said.”

Marinette's eyes widen when she realizes the pun she just accidentally said and scoffs. “Of course, he did.” Her thumb catches another tear. “I mean it Chloe. Not as just your girlfriend but as someone who truly believes in you and is on your side. You are the only Queen Bee for Paris. Plus, it would be utterly ridiculous of you not to go back out there.” She tried to make her smile.

And it works. The tears slow as Chloe takes a deep breath. “It would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?”

Marinette scoots closer and nuzzles her nose against hers. “I mean if you quit then I couldn’t brag at how my amazing, stunning and absolutely gorgeous girlfriend is one of the greatest superheroes the world has ever seen.”

“Well, we couldn’t let that happen.” Chloe giggles as she feels her heart becoming lighter.

It becomes clear to Chloe that she can’t let this affect her. She wouldn't let a broken foot and fear hold her back. No, she was going to be the hero her girlfriend believed her to be. She wanted to rise to the challenge and get her mojo back. Make sure that Ladybug knew that she was ready to get back out there and be back on her team. She wanted to see Pollen again and help stop Hawk Moth.

“You’re amazing Chloe.” Marinette and that's enough for Chloe to want to be better.

It has always been Marinette cheering her on. She won’t let her down. She leans forward and takes Marinette's lips slowly. It's soft and slow but fills her stomach with butterflies. A warmth fills her chest as Marinette kisses her back. She runs her hand through her dark hair, pulling her impossibly closer and she can feel the smile forming on her girlfriend's lip.

“Thank you, Marinette, for believing in me.” She said as they pulled apart.

“I always will Chloe.” She responds just as she kisses her again.

                                       ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

                                                  A month later

“Alright Ms. Bourgeois, your cast is officially off, and you won’t be needing to rely on crutches anymore. All I suggest is taking it easy for about a week or two, but you recovered extremely well.” The doctor smiled and Chloe could feel a new freedom as she wiggled her toes.

“It's about time.” She spoke.

“You can discard your crutches in the other room if you no longer want them.”

Chloe turned to her crutches that were still as pretty as the day they were painted. “Absolutely not. These crutches are the best in Paris and there is no way that I am getting rid of them.” She then sees her cast sitting on the back counter. “I want to keep that too.”

“You want to keep your cast?” The doctor questions.

She only scoffs and hops off the medical table. “Of course! My friends worked hard to make it look special, it's going to be framed to remember my time of bravery.”

The doctor shrugs. “Okay then, you’re free to go Ms. Bourgeois.”

“Thank you.” She huffed and grabbed her crutches before heading out toward her limo.

For the first time in what feels like a century, she's able to get into the car without any help. She can cross her legs and shift comfortably. “I’m never taking advantage of walking again.” She says to herself as she pulls out her phone. She dials a number and on the second ring it picks up.

“Mari? We have a date in the park this Saturday and I want your finest sugar cookies.”

She hears her girlfriend's soft laugh on the other side of the phone. “I’ll be there.”

                                       ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

It had been a few days since the cast was removed. She felt perfectly fine, and everyone was starting to revert back to treating her normally. No more kid gloves or pampering hand and foot excessively. Now it was them pampering her hand and foot normally, just how she liked.

She stared in the mirror as she reached for a hair tie to pull her hair up. Behind her, she heard a tapping noise coming from her balcony door. Looking at the time, she realized she had about ten minutes before her date with Marinette.

Another tap from the door and she rolled her eyes.

“Stupid wind.” She complained as she walked over to the door. Instead of the wind or a random object, the hero of creation stood before her. “Ladybug?” She gasped.

The hero offered a bright smile. “Heard you got the cast off and I’m in need of some assistance.” She said as she held out the miraculous box.

Any doubt or guilt she had carried over the last few weeks had vanished. There was a hint of pride in Ladybug's eyes as she offered the power to her.

Chloe reached out for it before hesitating. “I have a date with Marinette.” She frowned.

Panic settled in as Ladybug held the box. “Uh, I’m sure she will understand. After all, you are a superhero and about to help save Paris. Plus, you then get to tell her about all the exciting action you faced!” She said quickly.

Chloe thought about it for a second.

“I guess you’re right. She is one of the most understanding people around, unlike most of the fools I know. Now, hand me that box Ladybug, I have a villain to crush.”

A bright golden light emerged, and Pollen faced her with a smile.

“My Queen.” Pollen bowed.

“It's nice to see you again.” Chloe patted her on the head. “Time to remind Paris who their Queen Bee is!”

“Absolutely!” Pollen cheered.

“Pollen. Buzz on!”

As the light surrounded her, it filled her with joy. There was no darkness, no villain taking her down. Fear of failure was a thing of the past.

A hand came onto her shoulder. “It's good to have you back Queen Bee.” Ladybug said.

Chloe turned and engulfed her in a hug. It took them both by surprise, but she felt Ladybugs arms around her. “Thank you.” She whispered.

“You are always going to be Paris’s bee.”

                                        ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

There was a rush of adrenaline flowing through her as she transformed back to her civilian form. She handed Ladybug her miraculous and for the first time in months, she was at peace with herself.

“You did amazing Chloe! Give Marinette my best.” Ladybug said as she zipped away.

Without wasting any time, Chloe rushed over to the park to find Marinette sitting on a picnic blanket.

“Sorry for the wait.” Chloe said as she joined her on the blanket.

Marinette laughed and handed her a drink. “Don’t worry about it. I ran back to the bakery to grab some stuff, so your timing is perfect.”

“Well, you have to be perfect to be a superhero.” Chloe smirked proudly. “I’m not sure if you saw but I got the final blow in.”

“I was on the edge of my seat watching the Lady Blog. You looked incredible.” Mari said as she took her hand. “I’m really happy you didn’t give up. You’re an inspiration to others by teaching them to not let fear hold them back. Ladybug is lucky to have you.”

Chloe felt her cheeks flush at her girlfriend's words. Pure adoration was clear on Marinette's face. “If anything, I’m lucky to have you.” Chloe told her before kissing her on the lips.

                                        ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Thank you for reading :) 

[seagreenstardust]

It's entirely too early, but I am uncomfortable and in pain and I won't be sleeping until the meds kick in so we're talking about Umbrella 2.0, buckle in kids.

1. The thunder. It was rolling the first time Marinette actually saw Adrien for who he was and it's rolling now. There is some version of the soulmate story where lightning strikes or you hear thunder when you meet that person you're going to love. Marinette has been running away from her feelings for several episodes so it definitely reads like a reminder to her that she still has them and that he's worth it in the end.

2. If we're feeling optimistic, the thunder very well could also be symbolic of Adrien's first time accepting that he could see Marinette that way too. We're not in his head this time, we don't know for sure, but this definitely reads as a scene that's starting to be romantic for both of them, but more on that later.

3. Call me a clown for jumping on board too fast, we've all been burned by the ML bait and switch, but this feels different ya'll

4. Marinette tries to give the umbrella back and Adrien doesn't let her. Here's the deal: when Adrien gave her the umbrella on day 1 he wasn't giving her his heart, not immediately, he was making a friend. But what he gave Marinette with that umbrella was a crush. So Marinette trying to give it back to him now definitely reads like her offering to give back the crush, the feelings, and keep what he actually offered that day, their friendship. But Adrien doesn't let her give it back. Wherever Adrien is on the self-awareness scale right now, him not accepting her symbolic gift of letting go of her crush on him is a big deal. Symbolically, this boy doesn't want her to give up on him yet because he is literally almost there.

5. How easily Marinette takes his arm. The way Adrien seems to know what she's after and more or less offers his arm to her as she takes it. How comfortable they both suddenly are with being that close to each other. How easy this simple gesture of camaraderie and affection comes to both of them.

6. When they first met, the umbrella closes on Marinette alone. Marinette alone caught feelings that day. This time the umbrella closes on both of them so you know where this is going. Marinette was in the process of giving up and needed to accept that her feelings weren't going away. And Adrien needed to accept his feelings for her too. This is huge. They're both caught under the umbrella you guys. Together.

7. They each offer a way to stay together a little longer, Adrien offering to drive Marinette home and Marinette suggesting they walk together which he is all for until he's reminded he has places to be and a schedule to keep. Adrien is massively disappointed not to be able to walk home with her but he reminds her and himself that they'll see each other again soon, at school. This could read as him being the boy trapped by his responsibilities wanting some time with his good friend away from it all, sure, but it's not that, and I will tell you why:

8. Adrien's attention is kind of absorbed with Marinette, and has been since he first saw her across the room at the pool. While he's leaving he has to look back, to say goodbye again, to watch her until he can't see her anymore. He is so focused on her that he knocks his head into the car frame while trying to get in. Adrien's not clumsy. I'm not sure we've ever seen him like this before. He's a model, he's Chat Noir, he's definitely spatially aware of his surroundings and extra super graceful, and yet here he is, after an umbrella moment with Marinette, holding long gazes and acting clumsy.

It feels different this time you guys.

[kittinoir]

#20 for the prompt list marichat and can you make it angst but fluffy

Marinette felt cold. That was strange. She didn’t normally feel cold when she was transformed. And the Miraculous should have deflected the blow from the akuma easily. So why couldn’t she feel her fingers?

“Why?” Chat Noir demanded above her, his hair falling into his face as he dropped to his knees next to her. She wanted to reach up and brush it aside so she could see him properly, but her arms weren’t listening. “Why did you do that, Marinette?”

For a second, her name on his lips shocked her back into her body, just long enough to remember what had happened: that she had shoved Chat Noir out of the strike of Hawk Moth’s latest akuma while she’d been trying to hide and transform. She hadn’t thought, she’d just acted. And now she was cold.

Marinette attempted what she’d hoped would be a care-free laugh, but it was brittle and it fell apart on the way out. “So…clumsy…,” she rasped. Whoa, how much damage had the akuma done? “Should’ve ducked.”

“You should’ve done a lot of things,” Chat Noir said. He pulled her upper body onto his lap, but Marinette felt only the briefest pulse of dull pain before that, too was beyond her reach. Her lack of response to the motion had her partner’s eyes inching wider. Was that fear she saw there? How odd… she’d never seen it before. Chat Noir wasn’t afraid of anything.

“You have to…get the akuma,” Marinette tried again. There, she’d sounded halfway normal - but the toll it took on her strength had her eyes fluttering. 

“It can wait,” Chat Noir said. Marinette heard him shift, and then she sighed as he gently ran his fingers through her bangs, again and again, slow at first, then more steady as she relaxed into him. “Rena Rouge can hold it down for now. I’m not leaving you alone while you… I’m not leaving you alone.”

A smile ghosted across Marinette’s lips. “You barely know me.”

Chat Noir shook his head. “Not true. I think everyone in Paris knows who you are. You’re the daughter of the owners of the best bakery in this city.”

Marinette choked on a laugh. “Is that why you got…close to me? For the free pastries?”

“I definitely came for the sweetness,” Chat Noir said, the hand in her hair drifting down to cup her face, one thumb running over her cheekbone. “But the pastries were a nice bonus.”

“I bet you say that to all your fan girls,” Marinette teased.

“Oh?” Chat Noir said, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. “Does that make you one of my fan girls?”

“You wish,” Marinette said, but the words were barely more than a breath. “I…I…”

“Shhhh,” Chat Noir interrupted her, “Just rest. It’ll be ok, Marinette. I promise. Ladybug’s probably joined Rena by now and any second she’ll fix this, ok? Just a few more minutes, can you do that for me?”

Ladybug? But…

“How bad…is it?” Marinette asked. She squeezed Chat Noir’s hand where he’d laced his fingers through hers on her stomach. She didn’t remember him doing that. 

She followed Chat Noir’s gaze as his eyes flitted down the length of her, but when they returned to her face, he remained stoic and silent.

“That bad, huh?” Marinette said. Clarity was beginning to return even as the life ebbed out of her, like a final gift from whoever watched over her. At least if she were to go, it would be with every detail of her partner’s face etched perfectly in her mind.

But she had no intentions of leaving him just yet.

She gently tugged at the hand on hers, drawing it up to her face.

“Marinette, I - ”

Chat Noir stopped dead as she pressed his hand to her ears and the jewellery there.

“Ladybug’s not going to make it,” she breathed. Black dots were beginning to dance across her vision. “Take them.”

“Marinette.”

She shivered at the sound of her name on his lips, so different than any other time he’d said it, full of wonder and joy and fear and - if she wasn’t wrong - at least a little bit of love.

“Not how I…wanted to tell you,” Marinette breathed as he gently took the earrings from her. “Sorry. About…so much…sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” her partner said. How had he moved so quickly? Was he already so far way? “I’ll fix this, Marinette. I’ll fix everything.”

I know. That’s what she wanted to tell him, but she was drifting now and couldn’t find her voice anymore. But she knew. She knew he would. The last thing she heard was his voice.

“Plagg, Tikki, UNIFY.”

And then everything went dark. 

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Soulmarks, Part 8

First part

Previous

~~~

Marinette and Adrien stared at the wall of text in front of them blankly. Bruce was giving them a lecture on every villain -- sorry, Rogue -- in Gotham. There was… a lot of them, to say the least.

French scrolled past her eyes and she rested her head in her hands, not even bothering to look at the words anymore.

“Hey, Bats, I have a question...” said Tim, who had just walked into the Batcave for work.

He’d not given up vigilantism entirely, just fieldwork, and they were all just glad he hadn’t immediately jumped back into patrols. They were perfectly happy to allow him to sit back at the computers and talk to them over comms as long as he communicated when things were becoming too much.

Which is probably what the heroes should have done about ten minutes ago when they’d been struggling to wrap their heads around why a guy with a scar over half his body was so feared in Gotham. They took so long wondering about this that they got left behind and what do you mean there’s a sentient mud monster running around --?

She was pulled from her thoughts as Dick grabbed her and Adrien by the backs of their shirts and gently dragged them away.

She blinked. “Um --?”

“Shh! Do you want to escape or not?” He chided quietly.

She hesitated and glanced at Tim, finally beginning to understand what was going on. He was distracting Bruce so they could escape. She caught his eyes briefly and he made a tiny shooing motion with his hands before nodding and responding to something his father said.

She and Adrien gave each other looks. Sure, it was certainly a lot to take in at once, but it was all pretty important information if they wanted to start doing patrols…

They allowed Dick to lead them along. They were hard-working, sure, but they were still fourteen.

~

He raised his eyebrows at her as she stepped into his room, hugging a skateboard.

“Are you on ‘what does Tim still like to do’ duty for today, then?”

She huffed lightly. “I could just be doing this because I want to get to know my soulmate, you know.”

“Is that so?”

She chose not to answer, holding up the skateboard for him to see. “Tada!”

“I could buy one myself, you know. I have one, actually. Somewhere.”

She shrugged. “I know, I tried to learn a while back when I saw the soulmark. Don’t get what’s so fun about falling on your face, but if you enjoy…ed it then you should at least try and get back into it.”

He gave a small smile. “If you fall on your face a lot you’re doing it wrong.”

“Really? I thought faceplanting was the goal.”

“No, no, not quite.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Would you like me to teach you?”

She mimicked his posture with a cheeky grin. “You just want to see me fall.”

He shrugged. “Possibly.” He waved her along with a tiny grin on his face.

She followed after him and he walked backwards to make sure she didn’t get lost in the house.

He’d overheard a few horror stories from Adrien about how clumsy she was when she wasn’t in her Ladybug costume and he just had to know whether or not it was true. He’d seen her fight as Ladybug, she’d been pretty much perfect then, there was no way…

Unless there was.

And she literally didn’t even need to be on the skateboard to take a tumble.

She tripped over air and probably would have taken Tim down with her if he hadn’t been a little prepared. He caught her waist and pulled her close to him, giving a cheeky grin as her face crashed into his chest.

She looked up at him slowly and a blush spread across her face. “Hi,” she squeaked.

Tim laughed softly. “Hi.” He let go now that she had regained her footing, taking a step back.

She brushed herself off and coughed awkwardly. “Right. That didn’t happen.”

“Did it not?” He continued leading her along. “How is someone as clumsy as you a superhero?”

She gave him a pout. “I didn’t use to be.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Really! Being Ladybug means I have to have a lot of luck, and, I guess to balance it out, when I’m not Ladybug my luck just gets awful.”

He guessed that kind of made sense.

Still, it was kind of funny, and he wasn’t going to pass up on an opportunity to see just how awful her luck could get.

And so he took her outside and attempted to teach her how to skateboard. He really did put some effort in, he thought it would be kind of cool to have someone to skate with, but he was quickly realizing that she just might be unteachable as he watched her fall yet again.

This time, she didn’t get up, laying in the grass with a sour look on her face.

He leaned over her with a grin. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “This is impossible.”

He shrugged. “It takes practice. You’re not going to be good at it immediately.”

“What if I want to be good at it immediately, though?”

“Then you’re going to be disappointed.” He flashed her a grin, holding out a hand for her to get up. “C’mon. I said I was going to teach you and you’re not going to learn from down there. Let’s try again.”

“Why are you even bothering? I’m hopeless.”

“Well, that’s no way to look at it, now is it? And you’re improving. Now you can at least step on the skateboard without falling.” He hesitated. “Besides, even if you were hopeless at this, everyone’s gotta be bad at something.”

She stared at him for a long time, her face slowly reddening.

And then she pulled herself together enough to glare at him. “We’re doing something you’re terrible at tomorrow, then.”

“Not exactly the reaction I was going for but…”

He thought about it for a minute, his mind wandering over the different soulmarks he’d had. He wasn’t going to let her win without a fight, of course, so this took some careful thinking. Baking and sewing were off the table, he was a disaster at that… Gaming shouldn’t be too difficult, though. He used a computer a lot. Surely, there was no real difference, right?

“How about video games?”

She broke into a grin and finally took his hand. He pulled her to her feet.

“Video games sounds good.”

~

She tossed a controller at him.

He caught it and raised his eyebrows. “You were serious?”

“Yes, I was serious!”

And she was going to make sure that he lost. Usually, when she knew that people were going to be bad at it, she would at least go easy on them and let them win a bit. Not with him, though. There would be no mercy.

He dropped his controller with a groan, the millionth ‘Player One Wins!’ proudly displayed on the screen.

She set her controller beside herself and smirked at him.

“You’re cheating.”

“Maybe you’re just terrible.”

He rested his head back against his headboard, glaring at the controller in his lap. “I take back that ‘everyone is bad at something’ thing. I am not allowed to be bad at things. I’m going to devote my entire life to beating you at this… ‘Ultimate Mecha Strike III’ thing.”

“Well, then you shouldn’t have told me. I’m going to practice night and day. You will never catch up.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. He smiled despite himself.

He picked up his controller again and pressed the start button. She squeaked and scrambled for her own controller.

“That’s cheating!” She whined as she finally managed to grab ahold of it and started playing.

He lost. Again.

She smiled widely, turning to look at him. He wasn’t sulking like she expected (and maybe wanted), he was just watching her with his head on his hand, a tiny smile playing at his lips.

She blushed and looked away. “Can’t believe you had a headstart and you still lost.”

He snapped out of it a bit, sending her a half hearted glare. “You’re banned from my house.”

She grinned and scooted closer to him on the bed.

“Fine. I guess I can teach you a few tricks.”

~

Tim didn’t really keep close track of his soulmarks, to be honest.

Sure, he always found them cute, but he never actively looked for them. He’d done it for a while, but it had only ended in him feeling disappointed when he didn’t find anything new (because new soulmarks only popped up around once every few months for him). He’d decided that it was just a hassle and had chosen to just let himself find them when he found them.

So that was why, when he saw his name on his chest, he was completely taken off guard.

His face burned red as he looked at the script. Tim Drake. He ran his finger along it, almost expecting it to rub off like ink from a particularly awful prank…

But it didn’t.

He dropped back onto his bed and tried to fight back the growing smile on his face.

~~~

Next part

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[legends-live-in-memories]

Purple Lilacs

ayooo it me! Here is jasonette july saturday challenge: Hurt no comfort!

Maribat Masterlist  AO3

word count: 3.1K

Warnings: mentions of body fluids, sickness, vomit and death. 

without further ado:   

Jason stumbled into the gas station restroom on shaky, unsteady legs. His chest ached and his vision swam, blurry with unshed tears. The dirty mirror and pale blue light couldn’t capture how disgruntled the fourteen year old boy was. He was still wearing his Robin suit, dirty and sweaty from breaking up fights and catching would-be criminals. His skin felt flushed but his blood was chilled to the bone. The fluttery pressure behind his ribs was a painful reminder of why he was here. He took a haphazard inhale of air and choked on it when he exhaled. His throat itched. The tears were beginning to fall behind his mask. The infallible Robin was unrecognizable in his reflection. His domino mask shielded himself from the agony that clouded his eyes. His mind was racing a thousand miles a minute, thoughts fragmented and disoriented. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. God, why couldn’t he breathe?

He ripped off his mask, tossing it without caution and splashed water on his face. He scrubbed at the sweat and exhaust that caked his skin, hoping, praying to wash this burning sensation away. He still couldn’t breathe.

He felt his stomach churn. He felt the bile clawing just beneath his adam's apple, desperate to escape. He barely had the strength to lean over to the nearby toilet before emptying his stomach. The smell burned at his eyes as the taste burned at his throat. He was left dry heaving for a moment, but that was all his body needed to expel what was clogging his airways. The petals floated pathetically in the waste in the toilet bowl; they were small and pale and stood out against the disgusting mix of vomit. Purple lilacs, first love. How fitting.

He had wished that the best week of his life wouldn’t end this way. He had wished, wished upon the stars in the skies and wished upon every dandelion he found in the manor gardens, that he could have something, someone, that was entirely his own. But her heart belonged to another and his heart was sick because of it.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her name was a breath of fresh air, a spring breeze in early May. He had met her on a Monday, her class was taking a tour of Wayne Tech. She was the cute yet clumsy class representative with an iron will. She was alluring and charming and Jason was swept up in her eyes of ocean tides. He never spoke a word to her that first day. Choosing to just observe her joke and laugh with friends. He didn’t dare interrupt her. He saw her again Tuesday. She was in a teahouse that was close to her hotel. She was with her brunette friend, Alya, he remembered from when he overheard her chastising the girl for saying something embarrassing. That was when he found out about her crush on the model boy. Jason didn’t think much of it. He didn’t think he would have to. His sudden attraction was only fleeting, he reminded himself.

The first time he actually spoke to her was Thursday night. Her class had stayed out later than expected so he watched them from a distance during patrol, making sure she got back safely. Making sure they got back safely, he corrected. He didn’t plan to stop by her window when she was safe inside and he definitely didn’t plan to strike up a conversation. She had a quick mind and a sharp tongue to match. It was striking and it seeded something deep within his lungs. They spoke for hours, time lost to conversation, that it wasn’t until Agent A called into his ear that he realised how long he’s been strayed from his patrol route.  He had bid her a good night and she wished him a safe one. He had found a friend in her and the joy carried him throughout the night. He hadn’t expected to fall hard and fast for her within the week. By Saturday his instinctual attraction had grown into sweet yearning. The weight in his chest as he waited for her class to gather in the Botanical Gardens grounded him in his spot. He had to remind himself that she spoke to him as Robin and that Jason Todd-Wayne was nothing more than their sponsor’s recently adopted son. He couldn’t speak to her about her favourite novels as he technically shouldn’t be privy to that knowledge. He wasn’t deterred by that, however. In fact, it spurred him on to get to know her more. It granted him the opportunity to relearn her interests all over again and watch her eyes blaze with passion.

He never got the chance. Her attention was divided between the garden’s attractions and the blond that stuck close to her like a burr. He watched her giggle and swoon as the boy complimented her. He watched as Adrien, he had learned, plucked a flower and tucked it gently behind her ear. It was a purple lilac. The colour complimented her midnight black hair and made her pale blue eyes shine. He felt his throat go dry as he watched on, his words withering on his tongue. The scene was truly adorable, straight out of a movie with a happy ending. He was happy that she was receiving the attention she deserved. But it still hurt that it wasn’t him lavishing her with it. He was the outsider lucky to be watching. Their tour ended with an exchange of business-friendly smiles and memorized platitudes.

Now it was Sunday night and he was gazing at the products of his foolish heart. He could count how few the petals were that mocked him in the toilet. He could taste them in the mix of bile that sat on the back of his tongue. He could breathe easier now; his lungs were no longer heavy but his heart was still so. How cruel, his first love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had died. He hadn’t remembered much of what came before or of what came after. It was all tangled and fractured. He remembered fighting with Bruce a lot and threatening his new ward. Jason was awful, a danger, but he was also angry and confused. He was hurt and lonely. It took awhile to find some common ground with his family again. It took awhile for him to feel normal again. It was hard work but it was worth it.

A lot had changed in Bruce’s nightlife. The Justice League Jason remembered and the Justice League that he returned to were worlds apart. It was jarring and he continued to long for some familiarity in his life. It was genuinely a surprise when he was invited to join their ranks, after years of struggling, but he accepted the offer with a tearful hug and grateful smile in the privacy of the batcave. He was introduced to the other new recruits, taken aback at how the community had grown during his absence. One figure stood out to him the most.

Her name was Ladybug, a Parisian heroine with some connection to Wonder Woman. Her personality was bright and bubbly and she looked like the poster child for the Justice League. She and Jason had hit it off quite well, slipping into easy banter and trading battle stories like old-age friends. Their time spent together left him feeling light and free. It was casual and comforting. Until it wasn’t.

One night after patrol, he stood staring at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. He was running through a checklist in his head of all the mundane things he had to do in the coming days. A trip to the drugstore for some cough drops, a couple cases to report and file here, some League meetings there. It was his new normal. He liked it. The thought of the Justice League led to the thought of Ladybug. Ladybug and her laughter at his jokes. Her half-hearted sneer at his puns. Her going on rants about fashion and the little twitch in her nose when she was frustrated with something. It was endearing, and enticing. It was always a delight watching someone who flung cars for a living lose their patience over mundane things. He was lost in thought when a coughing fit took over, bringing him back to the present. When his shoulders stopped shaking with the force of the coughs he felt something in his mouth. It felt like a piece of paper, thin and small. Thinking nothing of it, he spat into his sink and felt his heart clench. It was a single flower petal. A daffodil, meaning rebirth and new beginnings.

The  melancholy was instant, the resignation almost stopping his heart. How cruel, his second love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had decided to ignore the signals his body was sending him. He ignored the scratchiness of his throat every time he thought of her signature pigtails. He ignored the ever growing collection of petals that would decorate his toilet, or his bathroom sink, or his kitchen sink, or his shower floor. He ignored how blood had started to appear every now and again. Ladybug was his friend and he valued her friendship. He wasn’t going to let some biological imperative prevent him from making any meaningful connection with her.

It was a random conversation one day, the topic of little importance, but it had drifted to a discussion of identities and living the double life. He remembered telling her his real name, secret identities among League members being a matter of personal discretion at this point, and the flash of faint recognition in her eyes made him curious. She told him how she recognised the name from a school trip she took years ago. Apparently they had met once or twice during her time in Gotham. Her name was Marinette, she had said, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

It was as if the air in the Watchtower was being siphoned out the room as the seconds ticked by. He remembered that name, and he most certainly remembered the pain that name had brought him. He died with his feelings for her trapped between his ribs but they were long forgotten, withered after his resurrection. That is, until they crashed into him at the mere utter of her name. The longing came back in full force and he felt it weigh heavy on his tongue as his nose started to burn with the effort to breathe. He didn’t remember much after that conversation beyond a hasty excuse of himself. He made it into a restroom on some random floor and all but flung himself into an available stall. His mask was ripped off his face and the room echoed with the sounds of him hacking and heaving.

His heart was a cacophony of emotions; the feelings of teenage infatuation for Marinette Dupain-Cheng and the mature adoration of Ladybug blended into a concoction of purple lilacs and daffodils. Tears pricked at his eyes as he felt his throat get burned raw from his emotions. It was stifling and all-consuming. He felt like he was drowning and free-falling all at once. Unable to breathe. His face was flushed and sticky and he felt shivers begin to creep up his spine. It was disgusting how his own feelings would betray him like this. Peeling himself off the floor was herculean. Jason felt weary and his bones ached with the burden of his own body. Superman was already waiting for him outside the stall, a water bottle in hand and silent condolences smeared all over his face. A silent agreement was forged between them. How cruel, his one love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jason was younger he never associated love with pain. Love was always warm hugs and soft touches. It was gentle words whispered in the dark and saccharine sweet smiles. Love made flowers bloom in spring and the sun shine bright. How foolish he was. Now he knew. Love was a deep ache in his chest that pulsed in rhythm with his heart. It was a strangled gasp as he tried to breathe and it was tears that won’t stop falling. Love made flowers bloom, sure, but they bloomed in the deepest parts of him that he wished he could rip them out and everything attached straight from the roots. Love burned and festered and invaded everything that made Jason himself.

He couldn’t drown out the sensations no matter what he tried. A masochistic part of him was convinced he was addicted to the pain. Addicted to the reminder that he could love so strongly, so deeply. The idea that someone as callous as he could love someone so much that it could tear him down physically and mentally. Have the force of his own heart mold him into nothing but a garden of devotion. There was a part of him that didn’t want to lose the feeling of having feelings. The immediate times after his resurrection were wrought with nothing but mind-numbing emptiness so much so that his subconsciousness convinced him that he would settle for suffering as an act of love.

The tulip petals were beautiful, but worrying. He choked up an entire bud this time. His throat was still itchy and his fever had yet to be broken but the head of the flower in his hand was a distraction to all that had ailed him. Tulips, meaning opportunity and adjustment.

The voices on the television called his attention. It was some celebrity gossip channel and he couldn’t remember why he was watching it in the first place. He moved to change the channel when he saw her, Marinette, on the screen. She was attending some red carpet event and she looked beautiful. He wondered if she had made that dress; a memory of teenage ambitions floated to the forefront of his mind. A smile crept to his face against his will. He couldn’t help it, red was truly her colour. Then he saw him, her blond partner, waltz up beside her like he belonged there. He did, he reminded himself. The blond was her childhood crush turned boyfriend of a few years. She had told Jason stories during one of their many talks about him. He was funny and smart and a real casanova, she had said. Jason had pretended like those words weren’t thorns puncturing his lungs as he listened along. She looked at the model the same way Jason knew he looked at her. He was happy for her, truly.

His fever was back tenfold as he watched on and he was sweating a puddle into his couch. He couldn’t finish his meal and the coughs had returned. His shaking had overturned his food that was in his lap and it made a mess on the floor. He keeled over and added the contents of his stomach to the pile. Petals of lilacs and daffodils and tulips were pouring from his lips in clumps and he momentarily couldn’t breathe. He was becoming too accustomed to holding his breath during these fits. Becoming too accustomed to the lightheaded feeling inside his brain, the numbing feeling in his toes and the burning feeling in his heart. How cruel, his true love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. She was supposed to get her happy ending. She was supposed to grow old with her boyfriend turned fiance while Jason buried himself with his feelings. He cradled her close, feeling her faint exhales on his neck. He felt her body tremble and writhe beneath him. He was crying over her, gasping his breaths and gagging on emotions. She stared, eyes unseeing beyond him. She was speaking but he couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of his pulse in his ears. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was a simple job, a covert job that was only information retrieval. Everything was planned to perfection and every deviation was accounted for. Everything was accounted for except his body failing him. He was attacked with a sudden coughing fit that he couldn’t get under control and it drew their target’s attention to them. Guns were aimed and fired at them and he couldn’t get his own body to cooperate with him. Ladybug had taken to shielding him until he recovered but she was overwhelmed too quickly. Her suit wasn’t bullet proof, she was still vulnerable and the shot was in a critical place. She was bleeding profusely. He. Still. Couldn’t. Breathe.

He gathered what little strength he had and dragged her body behind a wall. He was hunched over her struggling to control his breathing and the situation. He couldn’t leave, too weak to carry her. He couldn’t fight back, too dizzy to focus on any targets. He couldn’t think, too lightheaded from the lack of air intake. It was a bad situation that was only getting worse. He was crying and heaving and she laid beneath him bleeding. The flowers in the back of his throat were choking him without remorse. He took off his mask and tried with all his might to breathe in. It was scratchy and rough and it felt more like a wheeze than an inhale but it was something. With this moment of clarity, he had an idea. It was really a last resort that Ladybug had told him about. He reached for her yoyo that was held in her hand and pressed the center dot that was actually a hidden button. It was a distress call that would signal to her partner and doubled as a homing device. It was a call for help. He didn’t know how long it would take for aid to arrive but this was all he could do at the given time. His lungs were still stuffed and his throat was overflowing. The petals were stuck between his teeth, their earthy taste rooting him. His limbs were growing heavier by the second and his vision was getting hazier.

He watched as the light faded from her eyes. As the shimmering blue dimmed permanently. He watched her rosy cheeks grow pale as blood poured out from the wound in her chest. He tried to cradle her closely, to offer her some form of comfort in her last moments but he could barely move. Another coughing fit racked his frame and involuntarily had him doubling over. The petals were flowing freely now, unrestricted from his relaxing airways. They were beautiful in colour as they joined the ever growing pool of her blood, only tainted by the dark red tinge of his own.

A new petal had joined the ones he had grown so familiar with. Yellow chrysanthemums, neglected love. In France, he thought, his mind muddled by a discordance of feelings, chrysanthemums also meant death; they were given as tokens of grief and comfort. How fitting.

Oh and how cruel, his last love.