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shnuggletea · 5 years ago

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Marichat May Day 1: Dance Off

Alright, I'm going to jump feet first into a new fandom again! This is for marichat may posted/hosted by @moonwalkiingbae. Before we begin, I want to say thanks to some truly amazing people. @darkenedhrt101 for joining me in this madness. @nebelflecke, @knowall7k, @master-ray5, @sailormoonserenity489, @goligolak, @sailorsilverladybug, and @astraearose93 for being truly wonderful people And to @beautymercurydragon for encouraging me to enter into this fandom! Thank you all for always supporting me and believing in me. Love you guys.

Extra shout out to @darkenedhrt101 and @nebelflecke for showing me how to do the ‘keep reading’ thing lol!

Okay now that’s been said, let’s get to the fic! This might be a stretch for Marichat. It’s AU where dancing is a metaphor for their miraculous. Below are the songs I used for inspiration, in order of appearance/use in the fic. The video is the choreography that inspires the big dance scene on the roof. It’s beautiful guys and I tried to capture it with my words.

https://youtu.be/4DuNkr3oAEU

https://open.spotify.com/track/0McMlTPzi5QjtrQUOCffaZ?si=_At7rGiiQJ2d5TCwiJh4rg

https://open.spotify.com/track/5Vsk37sNQA8OaAgzUFhMGH?si=-6h4lXzfQrK4XWGVePicvQ

https://open.spotify.com/track/01iyINEYgPQ7ThMZuHUsqS?si=v7Be4MdlQoKE3j-RDFJXzw

Day 1: Dancing on rooftops

Dance Off

All my life, I was invited to places. Or rather told by my father when and where. With those being my only chances out of the house, save for school, I was pretty darn happy to have them. And everyone there was happy to see me. It made sense, I was the heir to the fashion throne and they were all hungry fashionistas.

So this was the first time I’d ever felt so out of place and unwanted.

“Nino...are you sure this is okay??”

Nino looked back at me over his shoulder, a smirk on his face as he turned his cap ‘backward’. “Yeah man, it’s cool. Everyone here just wants to dance. Same as you.”

“Then why are they looking at me like I’m lunch?”

Nino looked around with me, catching a few glares my way and laughed. “Fresh meat, man. They’ll warm up quickly. Trust me, dude. Once they see your moves, you’re in.”

I wasn’t as confident as my best friend. But he’d never steered me wrong before. Or rather, he’d never done it on purpose.

We split, Nino heading to the DJ booth while I pushed towards the large raised platform for the dancers. They were in between at the moment, a few gathered and talking. They looked really chummy, laughing and pushing each other around like friends teasing.

Everything changed when a girl jumped on the stage.

Her skin-tight jeans were black and ripped in all the right places. Knees and on the back of her thighs just below her butt. And on top...she wore a red tank with black spots on it. She wore some kind of face paint, it shaded her eyes and nose. Add in the dark lighting of the club and I couldn’t tell anything about what she looked like only that, once she was there, the crowd got a little quieter and the group on stage started to get ready.

Nino was at the wheel, his newest mix filling the quieting club. It bounced off the walls and rocked my bones. I loved his music. I didn’t have any interest in dancing until I heard it. And then, it was like I didn’t have a choice. Good thing my father insisted on things I once thought were stupid. Like ballet for balance and grace on the catwalk and judo for my safety. I had to beg to take fencing but it did help with my agility.

The beat was heavy, a woman singing about being insane. I’d heard the original before but Nino was mixing so I couldn’t recognize the original song. But the little Ladybug didn’t care or wait. Taking the floor first, she slowly worked her body up like a robot, jolting with each bang of the piano in the background. Clapping started, on the track and with the crowd and Ladybug went with the beat, twisting and rolling until she had gone all the way up with her hands and down to the floor. The music built and she grabbed her head, thrusting and spinning it around as if insane.

Another girl joined her, reddish-brown hair, tan skin, and a mix of orange and brown on her body. The two locked hands and with a surprising show of strength, Ladybug threw her friend around in a half-circle. Her friend returned the favor until the two had worked their way across the stage. Their last move? Somersault back, their hands hitting the stage in perfect sync as they did three back handsprings to the other side of the stage. The one in orange did one last big move, twisting upside down with her hands on her chest. When she landed, the two were out of breath and the crowd was wild.

And I was in love.

I had my eyes on Ladybug while my feet moved on their own. Soon, I was standing before her, the rest on stage stepping between to stop me from getting too close. Ladybug waved a hand to them and they took their hands off my chest while she flashed me a smile.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah. Dance with me.”

She balked and shook her head. “You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.”

“Ladybug doesn’t dance with anyone.” Her friend went off. “Especially not some Jeunot with a hardon for her!”

The others seemed to agree so I didn’t have much choice. “Fine. Watch me.”

Turning, I was stopped again. “Sorry. It doesn’t work like that here.” I glared up at the tall boy that stopped me. He had an interesting streak of aqua in his black hair. He also glared right back at me with far more malicious intent in his eyes.

“There’s a hierarchy here. Rules. Newbies have to wait their turn and tonight isn’t your night, friend.” The boy spoke as if nails were in his mouth at me.

I looked back, Ladybug wearing a soft smile as if she was the sweetest girl in the world. If I went off her smile alone, she wanted to let me dance. “You can come next Wednesday? That’s when they allow new people on the stage.”

“So. I come and dance Wednesday and you’ll be here?”

Her eyes went wide and while all other eyes looked to her, she and I only looked at each other. Then she nodded.

“Good. Then you’ll dance with me.”

“She never said that!” Her friend cried.

I grinned, confidence coming from where I had no clue. “She will after she sees me dance.”

Ladybug’s eyes changed, a smile spreading across her face. Challenge accepted. “Alright. We’ll see on Wednesday.”

And then she winked at me.

As I stepped off the stage and into reality, I lost most of the feeling in my legs. Luckily, Nino was there to catch me before I made even more of a fool of myself.

“Duuude. What was that??”

“I don’t know. What did it look like?”

“It looked like you challenged Ladybug to a dance-off?”

“Shit. Did I?”

Nino nodded and I cursed again. Then Nino chuckled, “I didn’t know you had that in you?”

“Me either man. I’m screwed.”

An arm around my shoulders, Nino started to lead us towards the exit. “Nah man, it’ll be fine!”

oOo

“Are you sure about this, Nino?”

When did I start doubting my friend? Oh yeah, when he told me all would be fine and I ended up challenging the first pretty, talented, amazing girl there.

Guess that was all my bad.

But now Nino was leading me into what was apparently a bakery and I really didn’t get it. The place was quaint, it screamed ‘cute’. And the food looked amazing. However, Nino had assured me this was about me and my dance-off in a couple of days.

“Pretty sure overdosing on sugar isn’t going to help me. Or would it? It’d be a great way to go…”

“Your father would kill me.”

Nino said straight-faced as a pleasant-looking Asian woman with interesting blue hair walked up to our table. “Hello and welcome. Can I get you, boys, something?”

“Coffee, black,” I told her.

“An Americano and a dozen chocolate macaroons please.” Nino turned to me once the woman was out of earshot. “Watch the girl.”

I didn’t get it until another blue-haired beauty appeared. She was in charge of the coffee it seemed, brewing Nino’s then pouring mine. She was at our table a moment or two later and Nino grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “Hey, Marinette!”

She smiled, her happy beauty burning through the gray and dull morning. “What do you want, Nino?”

Even though she was clearly annoyed, Marinette still giggled and maintained her smile. “Well, you still haven’t introduced me to your friend Alya.”

“Introduce yourself, Nino. You’re a rockstar, you don’t need me.”

I liked her instantly.

“This is my friend Adrien. He’s the one with the favor actually.”

She looked at me for the first time and I liked how her eyes went wide. It made me feel like she really saw me. Just like Ladybug. “Oh um...hi?”

Her cheeks flamed up, turning an adorable pink. Then it was like she didn’t know what to do with her hands. First, she crossed them over her chest but it looked like it was awkward. So she tried to rest her chin on one but that was worse. Finally, after a few amazingly cute moments of awkwardness, she settled for sticking them in her front pockets. After she found them under her apron that is.

“My Bro here got himself in a bit of a sitch and we need your expertise.”

Was she going to keep me in caffeine so I could practice until my feet fell off?

“Okay. I have a few minutes now. Would you..uh could you..do you mind….hum?”

I didn’t understand but I was pretty sure she wanted me to follow her. After several sets of stairs, I was sure I was about to walk out on the top of the Eiffel Tower. Instead, I was enveloped in warm blush-colored walls that only enhanced the girl before me.

“Pppplease excuse the mess.” She said, rushing around and picking up things to throw in her closet.

I said nothing, taking in the sites when I noticed her 13 dials Gex in the corner. “You’re a designer?”

“Wwell..sort of? I want to be. But now? All I do is make costumes for dancers.”

Now I got it. “You make the costumes for underground dancers?” She nodded. “Did you make Ladybug’s?” She nodded but a lot slower this time. “Can you tell me who she is?”

“NO!”

It was my first time meeting this girl but I had a feeling, that response was way out of character. “I’m sorry?”

“No, I cannot and will not tell you or anyone ever.”

There was nothing but finality. The pleasant air that had been in the room was now replaced with awkward silence. Awkward for me, angry for Marinette. Finally, when I’d had enough and she was finished measuring me, I caught her hand before she disappeared on me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

Softening instantly, the girl I met at the beginning of all this returned. “It’s fine. I just get a lot of people asking. And it’s...not my place to tell! She doesn’t want people to know!!”

“Okay.”

oOo

I said okay and I really thought I meant it but, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ladybug or Marinette.

Which was why when her outfit for me arrived, so fast it was scary, I put it on and stepped out the door.

I blame my father’s obsession with turning me into my own survivalist and the all-black costume Marinette made me, but now I was sneaking out of my house and heading to Marinette’s. Not all black actually, there was a bright green paw print on the back of the zippered hoodie. Along with the black cap, I felt very much like a caper especially as I scaled the side of Marinette’s house up to the balcony. I prayed only she had access to.

It wasn’t until I tapped on the glass above her head that it hit me. “What. The fuck. Am I doing??!!”

But it was too late now, she saw me, her eyes going just as wide as the first time. Her mouth was still hanging open as her head popped up from the hatch in her room. “What are you doing here??!”

She hissed at me. And here I thought I was the cat? “I… wanted to show you your work? It’s amazing by the way.”

She looked me over, just a designer checking out her design. I still felt sweat on my palms especially when she got to my butt. I only ever wore pants this tight for modeling jobs. The stretchy material was far more comfortable than what I usually had to wear. And it breathed even though it looked like jean material. All in all, my butt looked good and I hoped she agreed.

“It turned out...pretty good right?”

“Yeah, I was thinking my stage name should be Chat Noir.”

She huffed and turned away. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself, Kitty Cat. Can you even dance?”

“Better than anyone you’ve ever seen!”

Now a ‘safe’ distance from me, I took in her face, the moonlight making her pale skin glow. She had a dark blue brow raised in interest and amusement at me. “I doubt that.”

“Is that a dare?”

Marinette shook her head but I made for the hatch to her room. What was it about this costume? It was filling me with such confidence, I was about to invite myself into the room of a girl that I just scared the crap out of by showing up uninvited on her ROOF???

But I couldn’t stop myself. Something inside me told me I had to show her, show someone besides just Nino. What if I wasn’t as good as Nino made me believe? Tomorrow was my ‘debut’ and I’d rather know now if I sucked than in front of a ton of people.

Before I could make even more of an ass of myself, Marinette caught my arm. “What are you doing??”

“I’m showing you my moves.” Her brow rose again and I caught how it sounded. “My dance moves! I’m going to show you my dancing skills!”

A beautiful giggle escaped her and she pulled me back from the entrance to her room. “Not in there Chatton. My parents will hear you thumping around and call the cops.”

Before I could ask, she started pulling me towards the back of her balcony...and then on top of her roof. “Are you crazy??”

She shrugged, “Probably. Here I am, leading Cat Man around to dance for me? Not exactly something you tell people is it?”

A nervous laugh burst from my lips. It helped a little as Marinette took us to the precarious tip of her roof. Dangerous slants that led to a long fall to the pavement below were on both sides of us and yet, Marinette looked like it was any other day. She stretched her hands up to the dark sky, the moon hanging low behind her. It looked like she might just reach up and grab it. Her personal pillow, La Luna.

It was then that I realized she wasn’t just stretching her arms. She was stretching her legs, chest, and back. Was she going to dance with me? “You gonna stretch, Kitty?”

The grin she wore was contagious. “Pretty sure I did that scaling your house.”

“Yeah, next time, just ring the bell. We have one you know?”

“Oh...sorry…”

She shook her head but looked elsewhere across the skyline. “Next time.”

There was going to be a ‘next time’? She didn’t think I was just a psycho? A weirdo punk who didn’t understand boundaries?

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, playing some music and turning it on high and suddenly, the last thing I wanted to do was dance in front of her. I’d rather eat it in front of thousands of people than look any more foolish than I already did in front of Marinette.

It was slow. Very slow and I could barely hear it at first. A woman started singing. More like calling out. The synth got louder and a dark beat joined it. Then a man started singing. Marinette looked at me expectantly but when I didn’t move, she did.

Dropping her hands, she twisted them together in front of her thighs. Rolling her body left and right, she brought her elbows up and made circles like a windmill with them. Then dropped them again all while moving closer to me. Now she stood directly before me with a small smile on her face.

I smirked back, hopping up on my toes and spinning in a full circle before her. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her move back, both of us careful as we balanced. She was wiggling her body to the beat while I dropped to my knees. The next move I did was completely showing off, something I learned from a few gymnastic classes years back. My legs were scissors as I twisted around on my palms, balancing on the edge and twisting around. I was back on my knees before Marinette who wore a big bright smile.

Holding up a hand, she rocked her hips back and forth and then fell to me. Complete trust in me and I didn’t let her down, catching her as she flopped over my shoulder. Only to keep on going until her feet were up in the air. I felt her kick a few times and realized, I really wished I could see all of her dance.

Her arms secure around my chest and her legs on the back of my head, I crouched like a turtle and spun us around. Then put her back down where she started. She did a little dance away from me, her back turned, and I took a moment to get my phone out. Superhuman speed I backed up, set it against the wall of a chimney behind us, and hit record. Marinette was looking at me when I turned around and I knew I’d been caught. But if she knew, she didn’t care, tiptoeing as she ran up to me.

We dropped to our knees as the music dipped to low and slow. Marinette crawled to me and gently grabbed my hand. I grabbed hers back and then I found her face in my hands. It was as if she was looking right through me and I swore I’d never seen eyes so blue or so clear.

The beat dropped and she grabbed my wrists, tugging them away in tempo but not letting go. So I twisted her, spinning her and pulling her off the roof to put her crossed arms above my head and her body behind me. Now we’d switched places.

Spinning, I faced her and she dropped to her knees again with a roll of her body. I reached out for her but she dodged, letting my hand sail past her face as she rocked back. Pulling back, I grabbed the back of her head with one hand, then the other, and helped her to her feet. One foot between mine, we balanced our weight between one another and I put my hands on her hips. Her arms went around my neck as she rolled her hips back and forth again. When she fell against me, laying her weight on me, I instantly wrapped my arms around her. But she pushed them away, out straight behind me. On reflex, I pushed back and she spun out away from me. And yet, I still didn’t let go.

Only when she was back on ‘her side’ a leg in the air did I release her and take up her offered leg instead, using it to pull her into my arms. Bridal style, she laid there or a second before rolling her entire body upward. She did the worm in my arms.

The song was still going after that but we stopped, catching our breath and staring at each other. At some point, I had forgotten we were on the roof. I had forgotten that we were dancing. I had forgotten why we were dancing until Marinette spoke.

“You’re not bad. I’m sure...Ladybug will love you.”

oOo

I didn’t notice until I got to the club and flipped the hood up that it actually had ears on top. How was it that Marinette knew me so well after only a few minutes? The pants were a little out of my personal preference but they were for a dancer so she had little choice. But it was almost eerie because I swear she knew me better than I knew myself, loving every little detail of the outfit she made me.

The neon green zipper on the hoodie? The baggie fit of the sleeves? The only thing I didn’t like was how it stopped before covering my ass but again, dancing. I had a white tank underneath for when I got too hot but I really didn’t want to take it off. It branded me.

Nino stood to the side tonight, Ladybug and her orange and brown covered friend joining him. I choked on a laugh when I saw the bright red, glee filled face of Nino as his little Vixen stood close to him. Meanwhile, I was shuffling with the other ‘new guys’ on stage. Standing to the side, waiting for my turn, I watched each of them do their best. They were all very good and yet, I wasn’t nervous. I should be nervous. Why wasn’t I? It was like Marinette’s cloths covered me in comfort and hid me from anything bad. Or...was it something else?

“Next up is...Chat Noir!!”

A few chuckles made it through the loud banter as I took center stage. At least I knew the song that was picked for me but it was still a remix of it. The DJ ‘hesitated’ on the first line, making it skip and play several times before releasing it to play on. I froze, shifting my body back and forth like I was the record and the crowd started to cheer. Their noise made my heart race but in a good way. It was then I realized, I wasn’t nervous because it didn’t matter anymore.

The rest of the dance, I just let go. I have no clue what I did save for a few moments where I busted out some more acrobatics. And just because I was a cocky son of a bitch, I walked over to Ladybug and held out a hand. She laughed but took it, allowing the Newb to drag her on the stage with me.

Tonight, she sported a tight, cropped tank of her usual colors and dark gray joggers. We twisted together with ease. And it was familiar. But it wasn’t the same, the rush mixed with ease and didn’t hit me nearly as hard as it had the other night.

When it was all over, I still couldn’t tell you how either of us danced and yet I had my dance with Marinette seared into my brain. And not just from watching the video I took, I didn’t even need it. I took a few looks at it just to see the face she made while we danced. I missed how a smile split her face when I twisted her behind me and how she gasped when I spun her on my back. Little things like that only enhanced my memory of it. So much so that when the song ended I was already leaving the stage and Ladybug behind me.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” The Vixen called after me.

I found her wrapped around Nino, a stupid look on his face. “I got...I got somewhere to be.”

“What the hell? You beg to dance with Ladybug and then once you do, you drop her just like that?”

The Vixen had a point so I stopped and returned to the Bug. “I’m sorry. I had a blast but I have to go. There’s someone I...really need to talk to. And it really can’t wait.”

I didn’t pretend to understand the sad smile she wore but she nodded and released her hold. I had taken her hands in mine to beg without realizing. “Good luck.”

oOo

It was late, past midnight, when I got to Marinette’s. She said to ring the bell next time but no way in hell was I going to that at this hour.

So I scaled the wall again. This was so going to get me arrested but I just couldn’t wait another second.

Her room was dark and she was either a deep sleeper or she wasn’t home. But where the hell would she be at this hour?? God, she wasn’t climbing up some other guy’s house like me right now was she??

I slapped myself and the images out of my head and tried the hatch, finding it unlocked and slipping inside. I had officially broken and entered some girl’s room.

I landed on the loft which housed her bed. I’d been wondering, ideally, what was up here when she brought me up here to measure me. Now I knew and I found it neither disappointing nor surprising. Except that it was empty, that had my heart dancing around, unsure of myself again. Either way, I knew it would be too much if she came home and found me sitting on it.

So I sat on her chaise, trying to feel...normal. Which was impossible. I was just about to get the hell out of there when the sound of weight on the ladder below made it pop. Someone was coming and it was either her parents or Marinette. And either one might call the cops so I had no choice but to grin and bear it.

A tired and scraggly Marinette appeared, t-shirt and jeans with a backpack on and she was every bit the adorable girl I remembered from the few times seeing her. And her eyes went wide again at the sight of me.

“Hi.”

Turning, she looked around as if I might possibly be talking to someone else. When her search was over, she tossed her backpack hard into a corner and stared at me. “What are you doing here??”

Still in my Chat Noir get up, the one she made me, I...lied. “I wanted to tell you how tonight went.”

“I know how it went,” she said, arms crossing over her chest in either anger or defense, I wasn’t sure, “you impressed Ladybug and she danced with you. Congratulations.”

“How do you know that?”

She flinched under my scrutiny but didn’t falter. “Because I...I saw you dance the other night? Remember? My roof? And I...I was there. At the club, I saw everything.”

Was that where she was? Did she go to see me?? Calm down, Kitty, don’t get your hopes up. “You were there?”

“I go sometimes...see how my designs hold up…”

Oh, so that was it? It didn’t feel right because she wouldn’t look at me when she spoke. That was something I noticed right away about Marinette, how she looked you in the eyes while she talked to you.

Getting to my feet, I took brave steps closer to her. “That’s not the truth.”

“It is!”

Her eyes to the floor, I knew she was lying. She wasn’t very good at it. A finger under her chin, I tilted her head back to look at me. “Why were you there tonight?”

“I asked you first.”

Swallowing my shock, I quickly recovered. She knew I lied too huh? Then I guess it’s only fair I answered her first. “I’m here because dancing with you is better than dancing with anyone else.”

Now it was her turn to swallow. And answer. “You don’t even know me…”

“You don’t know me either and yet, you managed to make an outfit that fit me perfectly and dance with me as if for years. We know each other. Everything else is just semantics.”

Her hands were on me now, gripping the hoodie she made me in tight fists. Like she was afraid I’d run away from her. “I went to see you dance…”

“Cool,” I said, cutting her off with my mouth twice. First with my words and again with my lips as I crashed them to hers.

If there was any worry that all of this was going too far, it was washed away by her fingers twisting in my hair and her tongue brushing against mine. Ever since I saw them, thick pink lips, I wondered what they felt like, tasted like. They were soft and gentle, wrapping around mine in comfort again and again. And they tasted sweet, like strawberry macaroons. Pressing my hands into the small of her back, I got her as close to me as possible, all of her pressing into me. Just like when we danced.

Then it hit me so hard, I pushed her back without thought or control. “Shit! You’re Ladybug??”

“You didn’t figure that out when we danced tonight??” She was genuinely surprised and confused.

So I pulled her back to me, “All I could think about tonight was how much I wished I was dancing with you.”

I twirled a curling strand of blue that had gotten loose around my finger and she giggled up at me. “That would explain your distant look and sloppy dance moves.”

“Excuse me??”

“You were clearly not all there tonight…”

“Yeah, because I was too busy thinking about you!”

“For someone who wanted in the group, that was very irresponsible of you…”

I cut her off again with my tongue in her mouth and it was glorious.

#miraculous ladybug #adrien and marinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x chat noir #fanfiction #miraculous fanfiction #marichat may #faulkner writing

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lady-charinette · 5 years ago

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The Beast in Her Home Chapter 10 - Marichat AU Cop!Mari & Criminal!Chat

Chapter 10

Chat Noir stood still, expression guarded as he mustered the man outside curiously.

With his hands only handcuffed with the flimsy standard issued cuffs, he easily bent his fingers and wiggled his hand out of one, the rest of the chain dangling from his other wrist as he slowly unlocked the French double windows. He was silently thankful Tweedle-dee and Tweedledum had forgotten to lock the other side as he stepped outside.

The air was cool and crisp, the night pitch black, telling him it was well past midnight.

The man was short and well-dressed, fitting clothes that looked just a little too expensive sat on his mildly rounded frame. Chat Noir usually tried refraining from passing judgement onto others, but the man didn’t look the part of a first-class thief to be able to steal such expensive clothes, much less posses the stealth needed to accomplish such a feat.

His gaze narrowed suspiciously, “Who are you?” moving closer, nose moving imperceptibly to discreetly take a whiff of the man, “You’re not one of my own.”

The man fumbled nervously, “W-why of course I am my lord! I’m a new recruit y-you see!” he smiled amicably, bowing respectfully, “Please my lord, we mustn’t waste time, you must get to our lair, I’ll personally finish off-“

Green eyes narrowed further, lips stretching to reveal an angry snarl, “You’re not a kitten.” Chat Noir moved slowly, gracefully despite his injuries, not willing to show any hint of pain or discomfort on his face, circling around the man like a predator did to prey.

He leaned forward, smelling the nervous sweat accumulating at the man’s nape, “You’re a rat.” He ran a hand over the by now trembling man’s neck, fingers tightening slightly in warning, eyeing him critically before he took another look at his wardrobe and the strange scent that messed with him, “No…you’re not a rat. You’re…” He took a deeper sniff of the man’s strange scent.

Mixed with shampoo and sweat was an underlying scent he couldn’t have washed off no matter how often he tried scrubbing it out of his skin.

Ammonia

A hand roughly seized the man by the throat, another harshly applying pressure to the man’s solar plexus, above the stomach but just below his chest.

“-a fox.”

The man recoiled in fright, eyes blown wide and hands pushing against Chat Noir’s shoulders violently, but the criminal planted his foot firmly on the man’s own, slamming his hand with the chain dangling from it on the shorter man’s mouth to muffle his scream of pain.

Chat Noir moved closer, whispering into the panting man’s ear. “Let’s have a little chat, shall we? Did the Rossi-Vanetti’s send you hmm, little fox cub?”

At the man’s silent, trembling form, Chat Noir’s fingers dug deeper into his chubby flesh and the man heaved. “I suggest you cry me a little tune, otherwise I’ll notify the cop sleeping inside. She’s not one to be trifled with, cross her and you’ll have to fear more than just me knocking the breath from your lungs.” The hand curled around the man’s throat tightened and pulled back sharply. “Talk little fox cub, now.”

The criminal waited several beats for the man’s heartbeat to slow down. “Scream and you’ll have more than vomit splashing onto your polished shoes.” The threat was clear and real, Chat Noir’s hand traveling from the panting mouth to the man’s neck, thumb pressing harshly beneath his chin and pushing his head back uncomfortably.

The man was hyperventilating, eyes haphazardly moving from the house to Chat Noir’s toxic green eyes, the black mask surrounding them giving them an odd glow. “M-M-Mistress, M-Mistress sent me! P-Please, I-I-I haa-am a new recruit, I d-don’t know- a-anything! I was sent, sent to, to bring you to her! That-that’s all, please! Please sir!”

Chat Noir didn’t budge, eyebrow raising in question. “Why pretend to be a part of my group? Did the puttana order you to?”

At the mention of his mistress in such a derogatory term, a brief flash of anger flickered across the man’s eyes, but Chat Noir effortlessly curbed it by pressing his fingers sharply on the man’s rapid pulse point. A whimper escaped the man and his body was wracked with shivers. “You’re disposable wares, little cub, your mistress doesn’t much care for your life if she sent you here to me.”

The man huffed, eyes moving rapidly to try and determine what to do next until Chat Noir’s warning glare made him rethink his decision. “S-Sir, please, pp-please sir, I beg of you, I-I don’t, don’t know I swear!”

“I have a purrpostion for you, little fox cub.” At Chat Noir’s sneer, the man cowered into himself, body trembling violently. “I’ll send you back to your mistress, with a little message.”

The man’s eyes flew open in unadulterated terror. “Merda!”

A few unsettling minutes later…

After Chat Noir watched his struggling figure vanish into the empty roads ahead, he turned back around, voice low. “I still got things to do here…” he cleaned his bloody fist against the already red bandage on his torso. “So, don’t interrupt me.”

The night fell quiet again, only the occasional, distant whines from the man and the chirps of birds disturbing it, but the noise died down as soon as Chat Noir closed and locked the windows again.

He’d just settled back into the covers in his original position when the clicking of a lock sounded and Chat Noir quickly pushed his hand through the other handcuff and waited, with baited breath and impossibly still. Listening in for the soft footsteps padding against the floorboards to the living room where he slept.

It was the lady cop.

From what little he could recognize her silhouette, her head turned to his general direction. He didn’t dare move a muscle, he barely breathed, mentally panicking she might have heard the conflict outside.

Her soft voice reached his hyper alarmed ears, it sounded loud in the quietness of the room. “Chat Noir?”

He waited a few beats, not sure if he should respond. “Are you awake? I heard groaning.”

He laid as still as a statue, eyes following her every move as she carefully advanced towards his form, far away enough to grant him space, but close enough that he felt the warmth of her body as she sat down at the edge of the bed. “Are you in pain?”

She’d heard a few muffled groans from her room, she’d nearly bolted out of her bed, before remembering Chat Noir might react very negatively if she intruded upon him like this, in the middle of the night.

She’d only pondered it for a second, not being able to bare listening how he was suffering from the pain.

She was anxiously sitting at the edge of the couch, close to his legs, as close as she dared and allowed herself to be.

Chat Noir finally responded to her questions with a fake sleepy, husky voice. “Nrghh…did I wake you up?”

She shook her head, even if he couldn’t see it. “No, do you need painkillers? I have strong ones in the cupboard.” She was already standing before Chat Noir could even answer, navigating through the dark to try and reach the kitchen.

“Yes…thanks.” She hummed in acknowledgement, mildly aware of how many times the man had thanked her in the time they’d forcibly lived together.

He heard the rustling of boxes, then foil, she’d obviously found the medication and started unpacking it.

He winced when there was light, thankfully very low and he realized she’d adjusted the small lights over the sink to dim, so it didn’t hurt too much on the eyes but bright enough to see her surroundings clearly.

He blinked and watched her walk towards him slowly with something cupped in her hand and a glass of water in the other.

She was dressed in her PJ’s, attire he was seeing for the first time, a pink loose T-Shirt and comfortable white-pinkish boxer shorts that reached a little over her knees, above toned legs.

There obviously were still some police officers who worked out, at least if her figure was anything to go by.

He snorted, and quickly tried covering it with a cough, trying to pass it off as reacting to the pain.

When she settled on the couch again, closer to his torso to hand him the medicine, she arched a brow, suspicion written all over her face. “If you comment on my wardrobe, you’re not getting any medicine.”

He frowned, remembering the embarrassing, atrocious clothes Couffaine had bought him and her not commenting on it. He nodded in understanding, accepting the glass of water and a pill from her hands. “I’m not stupid enough to look a gift horse in its mouth.”

She scoffed, wincing in sympathy when Chat Noir tried sitting up, only to hiss in pain. Marinette leaned over. “Wait, let me help.”

Chat Noir didn’t dare move, he had overestimated himself tonight a bit, despite having shown zero signs of being in pain in front of that spy, the punishment he’d dealt after had been too much for his still fresh wounds. His body was screaming at him for his foolish actions.

Still, having the woman so close to him, so close he scented a hint of something sweet, most likely her hair conditioner, kept him on guard. He could admit to himself, silently, in the privacy of his own thoughts, how the sweet scent was more than welcome after smelling the pungent smell of ammonia on that man earlier.

He still wondered why the Fox had sent one of their cubs after him.

Had word gotten out of his imprisonment that fast? What was happening with his group?

His gaze moved towards the woman again, feeling her hands pressing lightly against the uninjured spots on his back and pushing him upright slowly, carefully.

He hissed through clenched teeth and her hands were off his body in a second. “I’m sorry!”

Chat Noir quickly waved a placating hand, shaking his head. “It’s alright, it wasn’t you.” He sucked in a breath before letting her help him settle into an upright position against the propped-up pillow, her own body coming dangerously close to his own.

The man tried to ignore the soft press of her chest against his own solid one, firmly reciting addresses in his mind he’d robbed in the past to distract himself. He was finally leaning against the propped-up pillows and she moved away from him, his tense body relaxing finally.

Chat Noir grabbing the pill and water and swallowed both.

Marinette observed him quietly, trying to gauge his reaction after he set the glass down on the small coffee table. “I didn’t think the medication would’ve worn off so fast.”

Chat Noir wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand, the chain rustling from the movement. “You didn’t have to.” He shifted, gritting his teeth at the pulling sensations, disturbing the carefully bandaged wounds which began to sting. Did he…have stitches?

He pressed his fingers carefully against his bandages, feeling small raised ridges beneath his chest, “What’s this?”

The lady cop moved closer, gaze seeking permission to inspect him closely. Chat Noir nodded his consent and her fingers pressed ever so gently against the tough bandage. “The doctor had to stich some wounds closed from…your scuffle in the cell.” The criminal nodded in understanding and the silence settled over them once again.

The woman stared at her hands before speaking quietly, so quiet Chat Noir strained to hear, “I…I’m sorry for earlier, I…wasn’t thinking. Running low on sleep.”

He swallowed thickly, eyes downcast as the…moment from before replayed in his mind again, like a movie, the warmth from where her hand had touched him was still there, a phantom sensation.

He shifted. “It’s me who should apologize.” Marinette lifted her head bravely to meet his gaze and he cleared his throat. “Couffaine could’ve suspended or fired you, you could’ve lost your job when you defended me.”

“I didn’t mean-“

“I know what you meant.” Green met blue and it seemed like none of them blinked since their eyes locked, the silence between them mutually shared.

The criminal rubbed his neck, messy blonde hair falling partly into his eyes. “You’re an odd one, you know.” He finished the sentence he hadn’t earlier in the evening.

At Marinette’s confused, mildly offended look, Chat Noir elaborated. “For feeling compassion for a criminal like me, I mean. I’m the big bad guy you finally caught, for the first time, if you should feel anything toward me, it’s pride for capturing me.”

The look in his eyes told her he fully believed in his own words and Marinette’s hand curled into a fist, wringing the material of the blanket in her death grip. “You’re not a prize to be proud of, Chat Noir. You’re human beneath your mask and the criminal records.”

He scoffed, turning his head away. “Oh really? Then why do I feel anything but-“ a finger to his nose made him abruptly stop and he blinked quizzically at the cop, who pulled back her hand and shook her head.

“You’re an odd one too. From the bunch of criminals I’ve met in my life so far, none of them called me a lady before.” There was a hint of a little, amused tone in her voice and Chat Noir bristled.

Wait…

“He didn’t-“ before the words even left his lips fully, Chat Noir knew the truth.

He did.

Marinette nodded, “Don’t blame Nino, he was so shocked, it’s not every day a high-class criminal compliment an officer like me.”

Chat Noir snorted, “I didn’t compliment you, you are a woman, aren’t you?” his eyes unwittingly traveled down her torso, quickly moving away to stare at the boring wall instead.

“Lady’ is far more polite than ‘ cop’ or ‘woman’, don’t you think?” she practically spat out the words, trying to mimic the way he’d told them before. Chat Noir huffed, not believing he was being interrogated like this.

“Shouldn’t you catch up on your beauty sleep? Cops should be alert at all times, shouldn’t they?” he rose an eyebrow, lips slowly forming into a smirk.

Her own smile never wavered, standing up to put the glass to the sink. “I’m not the one requiring beauty sleep, besides with us both injured as we are, I highly doubt you’d try anything.” Her fierce expression mildly softened, it still had the hardened edge like a passing warning addressed specifically to him, but not enough to intimidate. “Especially after I saved your ass.”

More casual words only left her lips in company of Alya, due to the reporter’s own occasional potty mouth, but Marinette was feeling a bit more carefree that night, she blamed it on the lack of sleep.

Chat Noir chuckled, a deep husky sound. “My ass never asked to be saved, princess.”

“And yet it whined in that cell.” Marinette stopped, suddenly feeling embarrassed at herself. Was she…bantering with him? She shook her head.

“Hm…don’t forget, I saved you too.” A secretive smile settled on his lips and Marinette rose an eyebrow in question.

“What?”

“Nothing.” shaking his head, the criminal slowly settled back into the covers, remembering the words of the man from outside.

“…I’ll personally finish off that cop!”

It didn’t take a genius to guess what the pathetic man would’ve said, perhaps it was intuition among criminals, but Chat Noir felt unnerved.

His enemies knew he had been imprisoned, they knew where he was, they even knew about the cop.

How did that information leak outside so quickly? Who could’ve notified his enemies? Did his group know?

No, one of his kittens would’ve already tried contacting him had that been the case. It didn’t make sense that the enemy knew before his own allies.

Only the police know the truth so how-

Unless…

“Chat Noir?” again, his thoughts came to a halt, head whipping up to look at the lady cop.

“Yes?”

She shifted her weight, despite the darkness, he could still recognize her silhouette. “I’m sorry.”

Chat Noir blinked, thoroughly stumped by the sudden apology. He couldn’t place the cause. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” She repeated.

“For… what?” he echoed his confusion again, sure he misheard. Was he making sense? Was she making sense?

She shifted again and took a breath. “Had I known you…didn’t like being enclosed in small spaces, I would’ve seen to it that you got a bigger cell of your own.” To someone else, the words may have sounded strange, but given their relations as criminal and cop, it fit the frame.

“You… know?” then again, the doctor must’ve deduced it, based on camera footage he assumed, his attack must’ve been evident even through a lens.

“While the offer is very generous princess, I don’t believe you should be so considerate. I don’t extend the same courtesy, you must know.” He tried sounding nonchalant, but he underestimated the woman’s perceptiveness.

“You may pretend not to care and you think you may hide it well…” A pause. “Why did you call that prisoner ‘kitten’ after he thanked you?” Chat Noir didn’t need to see to guess the suspicious expression on the cop’s face.

He huffed, “It’s a pet name.”

“I doubt that.” Her voice was surprisingly firm, as if she didn’t believe him one bit.

“An insult really.”

“You’re lying.”

Chat Noir clicked his tongue. “Oh really? What did you think it was for a man I’ve never met in my life?” he smirked, waiting patiently for her answer.

She didn’t disappoint. “A term od endearment. A code.” She paused again, as if pondering seriously. “A rank.”

Chat Noir froze, but covered his surprise with a loud laugh, the chains rattling from his hand moving up to run a hand down his face in disbelief. “You seriously think ‘kitten’ is a rank? What comes next, big cat? Wild cat? Tiger? Honestly, expected a bit more from someone of your caliber, lieutenant.”

Marinette didn’t let herself be undeterred, sitting down on the edge of the couch, Chat Noir jumping slightly when her hip touched his foot accidentally. “It makes sense, your image resembles a cat. I even heard a joke or two you made about cats. Wouldn’t it make sense if the top cat of a group called their minions ‘kittens’?”

A burst of something white hot, constricting and powerful spread through his chest and Chat Noir’s amused expression melted away to imperceptible traces of anger. “Minions, you say? For your information lieutenant, there are more idiotic groups out there calling each-other minions, make no mistake in assuming my organization does the same.”

Marinette rose a brow at the oddly defensive, almost annoyed tone in the criminal’s voice, the moment she uttered the word ‘minions’ and his group in the same sentence.

“So, you’re trying to tell me you’re the lion mother of your pride and you have your…” she tried refraining from giggling out loud, but a few snickers escaped, “-cubs?”

A peeved sigh left the criminal’s lips and he slowly rolled onto his side, hissing at the sharp pain from his wounds and throwing himself back onto his back again, crossing his arms over his head, “Not a lion mother and certainly no cubs.”

He rolled his eyes when he heard a few barely suppressed snickers. “Just you laugh lieutenant, I could say the same about your lap dog Couffaine.”

Marinette abruptly stopped, not expecting such a jab at her, much less her superior and friend. “Don’t call him that, he’s not my lap dog, he’s my superior and friend.”

Chat Noir, unimpressed, barked. “Woof.”

“I understand why nobody came to save you.” Marinette smiled wryly at the snort coming from the man.

“You’re lucky they hadn’t yet, my kittens are smart, unlike some dogs.” He huffed, arms crossed. “They wouldn’t come where there are too many guard dogs on the watch, but you know that as well of course.”

Marinette rose an eyebrow, trying to curb down the feeling that he was hiding more from her. Of course he was hiding valuable information, maybe she should strengthen security more.

“What’s the history between you two?” Marinette was burning up with curiosity, if Luka wouldn’t tell her fully, perhaps Chat Noir would, while injured, sleep deprived and on painkillers.

The criminal chuckled, pulling the covers up to his bandaged stomach. “Shouldn’t you head to bed soon lieutenant? It’s quite late.” Chat Noir spied the clock on the wall of the kitchen, just barely making out the two pointers, showing past 2:00am.

Marinette lingered on the edge of the couch but stood up, head turned toward him. “What are you hiding cat?”

Another chuckle. “If I tell you that, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, now would it?”

“Touché.” was her answer and the criminal laughed.

“Good night, lieutenant.”

Her voice seemed farther away than before, probably somewhere in her bedroom. “Good night, criminal cat.”

“Good night, justice lady.”

This time, he heard a quiet giggle and a smirk curled his lips.

He heard the door close and the lock set in place, carefully readjusting himself Chat Noir closed his eyes.

Sleep didn’t claim him for hours to come, ears listening keenly to his surroundings, senses on alert for any other wandering foxes strolling about.

Foxes were normally scared of dogs, but Chat Noir learned they were much more terrified of cats.

Especially big ones.

------

Only the sounds of the occasional laughter from the playing children gave them a much needed reprieve of the suffocating silence.

Silence that had permeated their den like a veil of miasma since their leader’s disappearance.

“It’s been weeks.” A tiny rock was flung against the opposite side of the wall, bouncing off it harmlessly.

“He’s known to scout the area for any parasites, you should know that.”

The female voice from before growled and continued her restless pacing. “I know that.” The small black paw symbol on her shoulder moved as she stretched, hissing at the pain in her back. “But he’s never been out this late. He always returned after a week, maybe two if he encounters trouble. He’s been gone for over three weeks, Roger.”

The blonde-haired woman twirled her umbrella, leaning it against the wall to cross her arms. “We should go look for him!”

“You think he got captured?” a much younger member, barely the age of fifteen, asked quietly, foot digging into the floor uneasily.

An older man snorted in disbelief. “Don’t be silly. Chat Noir getting captured? It’d take fifty of those blue pissers to hold him down and another fifty to restrain him completely.”

“A hundred people? Aren’t you overexaggerating, Roy?” Aurore leaned her hand against her umbrella, fixing her friend with a skeptical look.

“Tch, if he’s serious, it would take a lot of men to take him down, weather girl.” The woman rolled her eyes at Roy.

“Maybe he left us for a lady cat?” Roger proposed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Aurore hummed. “…Erm…well…he’s known to be a bit of a lady killer.”

Roy shook his head, “Yeah, but he wouldn’t leave us for some woman.”

“M-Maybe uncle Chat’s waiting for us to get him…” the younger member meekly added, flinching at the older man’s booming voice.

Roy shot to his feet energetically, brows drawing into a glare. “Bullshit! As if a living legend like him would get captured! Listen boy, in all my years of loyal servitude to him, he’s not been caught once. Why would he be caught now!?”

For his age, the boy’s voice was fierce despite the tears filling his eyes. “Because we weren’t there to back him up! We got ambushed suddenly and he was alone in enemy territory! We weren’t there to back him up!” Aurore placed a calming hand on the boy’s shoulders, pulling him into her side while fixing a death glare up at Roy, who only scoffed and crossed his arms.

A younger man sitting next to Roger rose up, attracting the gazes of everyone. “It’s a possibility we can’t ignore, right? We can’t rule that out.” Renier, a longtime friend of Chat Noir and right-hand man in everything tactical and technological spoke up calmly, hands shoved in his pockets. “He would’ve contacted us already had it been anything else. Other scum started gravitating towards our den more because they hadn’t seen Chat Noir here in a while.”

He took a small rectangular device out of his pocket, a green blinking dot flicking on the radar. “Me and a few others will have a search party. Aurore, you and the thieves disperse and sniff out our latest targets. Send out snipers to guard the entrances and leave Zero with the kids.”

Aurore placed a hand upon Renier’s shoulder. “Hold on, you want to leave the explosive maniac with the kids? He hates anything shorter than him and louder than a bulldozer, he’ll go ballistic!” the umbrella in her hand was tapping against the ground impatiently.

Renier smiled, running a comforting hand through the sniffling boy’s hair and walking out of the room. “Exactly. He’ll be more alert because he has babysitting duty, but also more pissed off if anyone crosses his path. That way, the kids are even safer than if any of us stayed behind.”

The former weather woman grimaced, silently agreeing with the older male before she walked the other way to gather the rest of the cats.

“That’s right. Let’s get our leader back.” Aurore’s gait was filled with purpose, the umbrella twirling with more power.

----------

The vibrations from her phone chased away any lingering sleep she had, a hand blindly reaching for her phone, only for it to fall to the carpet.

Cursing silently beneath her breath, Marinette cracked her eyes open and grabbed her buzzing phone, answering. “Lieut. Dupain-Cheng.”

The voice on the other line shook her out of any sleepiness she had. “Colonel Couffaine here.”

Marinette shot up to a sitting position like a bullet, back straight and eyes wide. “Y-Yes, sir!?”

An amused chuckle filled her ears and Marinette briefly stared at the device before pressing it against her ear again. “Um…hello?”

Luka responded once again, sounding highly amused. “Good morning little melody. Sorry for waking you, I assume you didn’t have much sleep? You sounded like you were expecting me to order you to do push-ups.” Marinette’s groan made Luka laugh again.

She fell back onto her pillows, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry. Sleep didn’t coffee any drink.”

“You barely slept and didn’t have your coffee, yet?” this man’s smooth voice in the morning would be the death of her, Marinette swore. “Want to get coffee together?”

A small smile lit up Marinette’s tired features, but the hand slapping the side of her face broke it like a spell. “Sorry Luka, I have to change Chat Noir’s bandages and go grocery shopping and everything. I think it’s…uhm…” she tried wracking her brain for the date and day, but came up empty handed.

Thankfully, Luka read her like an open book. “It’s Saturday, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

The dark-haired woman giggled, wedging her phone between her shoulder and cheek and putting on a bra. “Right, thank you Mr. Couffaine, noted.” She paused, trying to remember if she had anything she had to report. “By the way, did the doctor tell you anything else about Chat Noir’s condition? Should I do anything else other than change bandages?”

There was rustling on the other line before her superior and friend spoke up again. “Change bandages two times a day and check for any bleeding on the wounds. Apply a cooling ointment on the open wounds and a disinfectant powder on the closed ones.” He recited the instructions he’d received from the doctor himself.

“Alright, I’ll write that down for later. Thanks Luka.” Marinette slowly grabbed her phone again and looked at the screen, finger hovering over the ‘Call End’ button.

“Wait!” the phone was pressed to her ear in seconds, eyes flying open.

“W-What?”

The former marine’s voice sounded a bit hesitant, a rare occurrence. “There’s this…small concert Kitty Section will throw in about a week…wanna watch? First row seat?”

A blush colored the officer’s cheeks and Marinette couldn’t fight off the stupid goofy grin she’d had since her teenage years. “S-Sure, I’d love to!”

“Great! I’ll get you tickets and pick you up before it starts.”

There was only one problem. “W-Wait, what about Chat Noir?”

“…I recall Kim skipped out on a few shifts due to his illegal races against Alix with duty cars…” Marinette giggled, hearing Luka chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.”

“Alright, if you say so. I’ll see you on Monday for breakfast. Greet Juleka from me!” after getting an affirmative response, Marinette hung up and stretched with a yawn.

A flash of pain made her cave in on herself, body shivering from the unexpected pain.

Her ribs.

She completely forgot.

Wincing, she slowly lifted her shirt upwards, biting her lip at the ugly sight.

Her midsection looked like Nathaniel’s canvas after using dark blue and green colors, with a splash of red.

Chat Noir sure did a good number on her.

Gingerly getting up, Marinette slowly walked towards the ironing board in the corner of her bedroom, the elastic band hanging off it the doctor gave her.

She dreaded putting on the compression bandage after her night of freedom, but orders were orders.

Taking a deep breath, Marinette held one side to the center of her stomach while she wrapped the other one around her mid-section, connecting the two ends by four hooks.

She winced, adjusting it again before she moved to get dressed in comfortable pants and a simple shirt.

She had expected to have a foreboding feeling when she unlocked the bedroom door, or heard Chat Noir moving about, but she had none of them.

Silence.

Peaceful silence, not the kind before a predator pounced on prey.

Marinette quickly rushed into the bathroom, almost done getting ready for the morning.

It took only minutes and she was out again, hair in messy pigtails and face still tingling from the cold splash of water.

The sight that greeted her in the living room had her frozen at the doorway.

It was Chat Noir.

Asleep.

Rubbing her eyes in disbelief, the policewoman blinked again.

Was this a dream?

Why was he still sleeping?

It was…

A glance at the clock told her it was 7:15am. Not too early, but definitely later than she usually awoke. No wonder Luka had called her, he’d expected her to be asleep.

She fondly remembered her teenage years of always sleeping in, now as an adult, she’d be off to work earlier than she needed to.

Her attention focused back on the silently sleeping criminal, sheets strewn about, face half pressed into the pillow, blonde hair a messy bird’s nest. How the mask managed to stay planted on his face, she would never know.

She couldn’t recall seeing the man asleep, he had always been awake earlier than her, even if it was at six in the morning. It was odd. Maybe he had a weird inner clock like she had since her twenties.

Perhaps he’d learned those skills as part of being a criminal and living on the streets.

She took the rare opportunity to look at him a bit longer, since he was usually alert and could notice her gaze.

Marinette had seen from a few occasion’s how well-built he was, all the running from authorities and lifting heavy stolen goods must’ve done him good. He wasn’t too bad looking if one overlooked the black mask and the death glare.

A very miniscule part of her wished he still had the cat ears, they made him look a bit better, if only a bit.

He had surprisingly white teeth for a criminal, she’d seen all sorts of poor hygiene, black teeth, yellow-ish, even gold ones.

His hair was always messy, maybe purposefully unkept.

And he had red-

Red bandages.

Bloodied bandages.

Marinette’s heart turned to stone and her feet were quicker than her brain in the early morning hours.

Normally, she’d politely ask and gently wake him up.

Now, she leapt.

And pounced upon the sleeping male like a mountain lion on a slumbering rabbit.

The reaction was similar.

If Marinette had known what would’ve happened, she would have definitely reconsidered her approach.

A startled yell reached her ears, followed by strong arms attempting to pry her off.

What followed was a frantic mess of limbs and sounds, alternating between shouts and startled yelps.

Even in the midst of all the commotion, Marinette could tell none of his movements were wasted. They were practiced. As if he regularly warded off people off himself.

Her hand reached his stomach amidst the mayhem and the accidental pressure on his wounds caused Chat Noir’s actions to increase tenfold in intensity and speed, trying to push the threat away from his sleep riddled body.

Chat Noir slammed a knee against her hip, thankfully weak in their scuffle, and Marinette tried to reach his upper arms to hold him down. His hand slipped somewhere underneath her outstretched one to stop her.

Her thoughts and the chaos of tangled limbs came to a halt when she felt a hand press against the side of her breast and her instincts kicked in.

“Pervert!”

She slapped him.

Hard.

Chat Noir’s cheek stung and his head whipped to the side, his own hands still holding onto the woman by her waist and shoulder.

When he turned his head towards her, his green gaze was livid. “What…What the hissing fuck was that?!” they were both panting, him from the shock of his rude awakening, her from the adrenaline and the surprise of his accidental inappropriate touch.

“W-What were you thinking touching me like that?!” her arms were protectively crossed over her chest, cheeks a rosy pink.

“And what were you thinking jumping me like that?! I was sleeping! If this is your standard interrogation technique then you can-” the enraged criminal tried moving away until he froze, eyes widening in alarm.

His body convulsed, the tremors spreading through the entirety of his body until Chat Noir clutched at his stomach and fell back onto the bed.

A pained cry escaped his lips and Marinette’s previous embarrassment was immediately forgotten when she spotted the bandages darkening with more blood.

She never thought the doctor’s number she had on speed dial would ever be put to use.

It definitely would be now.

-----

A few minutes later…

Marinette was pacing back and forth behind the closed door to her living room, anxiously biting her fingernails.

She waited.

And waited.

What was that doctor doing so long?!

Minutes passed after her internal panic subsided and the doctor finally called her back in after half an hour of treating the man inside.

She couldn’t remember the last time when she opened a door so fast.

Chat Noir was laying flat on his back, torso covered in gauze, face set in a disapproving grimace.

Marinette winced, hoping silently that it wasn’t as horrible as it first looked.

The doctor rubbed his forehead, a heavy sigh escaping him when he removed the mask. “The worst is over, I’ve managed to close his wounds and clean them properly. Lieutenant, could you tell me how his stitches have opened?”

Marinette stiffened like a statue, the scenes replaying in her mind like a broken record. Lawsuits of domestic violence, abuse of power, physical abuse against a defenseless man swam through her mind at a rapid pace.

How would she explain her intense worry had spurred her to irrational thinking and led to her jumping the poor man and accidentally injuring hi-

“I fell off the bed.”

The policewoman broke out of her thoughts, wide eyes staring at the criminal.

The doctor turned towards him and Chat Noir met his gaze fearlessly, repeating himself. “You fell off the bed?”

She’d never seen a man look so miserable in her life. “I tossed and turned in my sleep and fell off this damn couch. If you didn’t notice doctor, this thing’s not exactly made for my size.”

Marinette wasn’t a twig, but she wasn’t as broadly built as a man, the couch fit her quite fine and Alya when the woman came over for snacks and a movie. Chat Noir’s feet were just on the edge, not dangling off but the width was more of a problem. It was a bit slim for his frame.

The aged doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully, shifting his attention back to the officer. “Do you have any other more suitable sleeping accommodations?”

The word left her mouth before she could even think of the repercussions. “My bed.”

Chat Noir’s head snapped towards her like a bullet, green eyes so wide she feared they would pop out of his head.

The man in the white coat nodded, as if agreeing with her suggestion. “Well, until his stitches come out, I suggest keeping him rested on a bigger sleeping surface to prevent such…” he gave a sidelong glance at the criminal, who huffed. “…accidents from repeating. You have my number lieutenant, call should you need anything. I assume you’ve written down my instructions for his bandages and medications?” he arched a grey eyebrow.

Marinette nodded quickly, too stunned to speak.

The doctor sighed. “Very well, I’ll take my leave. Take care lieutenant, Chat Noir.” He nodded at the criminal, who returned his respectful head nod.

“Thank you, doctor.”

Both adults were dead silent until the doctor completely left the apartment. Silence settled over them like a heavy veil and Chat Noir’s gaze was set on the still surprised cop in the room.

“So…your bed, huh?” the question served its purpose.

It ripped her violently from her thoughts.

“W-Wh- y-you-! You pervert! You touched me inappropriately!” Marinette crossed her arms defensively, common sense having lost since abandoned ship.

Chat Noir’s brows shot to his hairline. “Excuse me?! Just who jumped whom violently while the other was sleeping and assaulted them so badly to open up their wounds?!” Chat Noir was oddly laying still, gesticulating with his arms would’ve hurt too much with the freshly applied bandages.

“I-I apologize! You-I saw you bleeding through your bandages and I-I wasn’t thinking, it was early and I just woke up and-!” Marinette ran a hand through her hair, feeling the fine sheen of sweat gathering at her scalp from all the morning stress. “I didn’t mean for your injuries to open I swear, I was concerned because I saw the blood and you were sleeping so I thought you might’ve lost consciousness!”

The criminal sighed, shaking his head. “Tch, you’re lucky I’m not an asshole otherwise I’d have filed a complaint, cop.”

Marinette huffed, resting her hands on her hips. “From the injuries you have given me it’s you who should be lucky that I didn’t throw you in the cell on that island, cat.”

Chat Noir snorted, eyes refusing to look at her directly. “Look, it’s not like I did it on purpose. I was aiming to get you off my sore ribs.”

Marinette knew Chat Noir hadn’t meant to touch her like that during their scuffle, she knew from experience while training, accidents could occur, especially since she ripped him out of his sleep suddenly.

Gathering all her patience, the woman stepped forward but remained a safe distance away. “Let’s forget this. I wanted to change your bandages but since the doctor already did… Let’s have breakfast, we need to head out.”

Chat Noir warily watched the hand extended at him, as if it would bite him. “We?”

“I have to take you with me. It’s Saturday, my colleagues don’t have time to watch you so you’ll have to accompany me grocery shopping.” It wasn’t entirely wrong either. Ivan had plans with his family and Kim was off on a swimming competition with his rival Ondine and the rest wasn’t available.

Luka came to mind, but she didn’t need any more drama than she already had gotten this morning. She wasn’t sure how Chat Noir would react being so close to him, alone at that, not with the way they last saw each-other.

Marinette also started to worry how Luka himself would react in Chat Noir’s presence, if his last outburst was anything to go by. They still hadn’t talked about that, Marinette had to approach him some time before or after work hours. Maybe she should’ve accepted that breakfast offer.

A look at Chat Noir immediately shut that thought down. Even injured and restrained, he was a threat.

And still a suspect.

Someone to be looked after.

Marinette waited patiently, waiting for Chat Noir to grab her hand so she could help him stand up.

The criminal’s gaze flickered from her hand to her eyes, distrust so painstakingly obvious that Marinette almost cringed. It was her fault, his distrust wasn’t surprising.

He sighed but didn’t take her hand, instead Chat Noir leaned back only to use the momentum and swing forward with his body, feet moving aside to land on the floor and stand upright, a head taller than her.

“See? I don’t need your-ugh!” his body suddenly fell forward, shoulders shaking and leg just barely catching his own weight as it almost gave out.

“Chat Noir!” Marinette’s hands immediately latched onto his shoulders to hold him upright, head leaned onto her shoulder and Marinette stayed perfectly still, eyes wide at their sudden close proximity.

Chat Noir seemed to think the same, if the sudden muscles turning to iron beneath her hands was any indicator. He leaned away from her, voice strained from pain. “I’m fine, lady cop.”

“No, you aren’t. Just…just stay still.” Taking a deep breath and mentally bracing herself, Marinette slipped through Chat Noir’s arm.

She could feel how he tensed even further and sighed. “Listen, this isn’t any easier on me so just…bear with me until we reach the table.”

His warm breath hit her neck when he breathed out a strained: “Fine.”

Marinette had no idea where it came from, but a sudden violent shiver raced down her spine and she almost fell back when Chat Noir’s weight settled against her side. “Too heavy for you, lieutenant?”

The side eye he got made him chuckle, but a light jab to his side shut him up very quickly. “Very funny, criminal. Now be quiet and lean on me.”

Another long-suffering sigh, before he leaned some of his weight against her, his larger frame somewhat dwarfing her side. Why did his shoulders have to be so broad? Or his chest? How could running away from authorities do that?

Focusing on the task at hand, Marinette slowly helped the man walk to the kitchen table, the table which was usually so close now seemed so far away.

The places where their bodies touched seemed so unbearably hot, despite the moderate temperatures outside. Marinette tried reciting information about him to distract herself, distract herself from their scuffle before, from their too inappropriate closeness now.

‘He is injured, protocol doesn’t apply here. He’s injured, he’s-‘

Marinette’s eyes flew open when Chat Noir turned slightly, stomach pressing against her arm holding him up.

If she hadn’t gone through rigorous training, if she hadn’t dated before, if she hadn’t had the little sleep she did and was still like her teenage self, Marinette would’ve been a blushing mess at the firm press of hard muscle against her hand.

Thankfully, they continued their snail’s pace without interruption, Marinette putting a deadbolt lock on the fleeting, purely physical reaction she’d had.

She was a professional.

After excruciatingly slow seconds, they finally reached the kitchen table and Marinette carefully helped Chat Noir settle into the chair, a relieved sigh escaping them both when he was safely sat on the stool.

“Next time, I’ll file a complaint on domestic abuse.”

“Next time, I’ll file a complaint on sexual harassment.”

Green eyes swirled to her back while Marinette made coffee. “You can’t do that! It was an accident!”

A smirk curled her lips. “The exact same words I’ll use to defend myself, because it was an accident.”

Chat Noir mirrored her smirk, trying to cross his arms but hissing at the pain it caused. “Oh, so me accidentally touching you in self-defense was sexual harassment, but your full-body slam on my own body on top of a bed was…accidental? My, my purrincess.” Something akin to mirth reflected in his green eyes and Marinette tried to curb the feeling of annoyance bubbling in her stomach.

“I told you not to call me that, criminal.” She set his steaming mug of coffee in front of him, fixing herself one too.

Absentmindedly rubbing the spot Chat Noir’s hand had accidentally touched, she grumbled to herself silently, trying to burn the feel of his hand there away from her mind.

His voice, now much closer and an octave deeper, whispered softly to her ear. “Only if you stop calling me ‘criminal’, little lady.”

She turned around and Marinette had to brace her hands against her kitchen counter when Chat Noir’s intense green eyes stared right into her own, face so close she could feel his breath fan her cheeks and the miniscule details of his mask.

In a moment of absentmindedness, Marinette’s hand slowly rose to touch Chat Noir’s cheek, fingers pressed against the edges of his dark mask.

His eyes portrayed his shock at her unexpected touch and Marinette’s brain tried to analyze the strange high-quality material she was touching when a voice called her name softly from somewhere behind them.

“Marinette?”

Thanks for reading everyone! What did you think so far?

Translation:

Puttana – bitch (in Italian)

Merda – Shit! (in Italian)

#marichat #fic #marichat au #marichat fic #ml fic #ml au #miraculous ladybug #cop!mari #criminal!chat #crossposted on AO3 & FFnet

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hidayasu · 6 years ago

Text

This Isn’t Gonna Work

So most of the marichat shenenigans are based on the fact of Chat Noir just coming and hanging out on Marinette’s porch, and that’s all well and good. The problem is the “sleepovers”.

Rated E for everyone

She just wanted a moment of fresh air.

It had been a long week, both with all her school work, her side activities, and heroic deeds. She was physically exhausted, but her mind was whirring at about a hundred miles per minute. She climbed up her staircase to get some nice views of the night sky.

And then gaped at the sight of a curled up boy in her lounge chair.

“Cat Noir!?”

“GAH!” He jumped awake, back and tail arching in a familiar feline pose, before he toppled off the chair onto the roof.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Sorry!” He jumped up, supporting himself on the lounge chair. “I just wanted a place to sleep and this was the best place I could think of!”

“Don’t you have a house?” She asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I just... really don’t want to be in there right now,” he admitted, but left it at that, and begrudgingly pushed himself to his feet. “Sorry for bothering you, I’ll find somewhere else.”

Wait, so he wasn't going back? Was he seriously going to sleep on the street? Like under a cardboard box in an alleyway or something?

“Wait!” She stopped him just before he extended his pole. “You don’t have to go. I was just coming out for some fresh air, but... if you want somewhere to sleep, you can stay.”

He wasn’t looking at her, clearly embarrassed and maybe even ashamed. “It’s just that... I couldn’t think of anywhere comfortable outside.” He excused, like he was afraid she might still think lowly of him.

She nodded sympathetically. “Wait here.”

She brought up a blanket for him, and he took it gratefully. She bid him goodnight, and tucked herself back into bed.

That happened four more times over the next couple months. But the fifth night was cold outside.

That thought kept bothering her as she tossed and turned trying to get to sleep. Sure she gave him a blanket, but that wasn't enough. And deep down, she always knew the lounger chair was “comfortable” but hardly enough to sleep in.

She groaned to herself before finally getting back up.

The trap door creaked a little, and since he was still awake this time, one jade eye peeked open.

“Come on,” she sighed. “It’s warmer in here.”

His head popped up this time, looking back and forth, like he was looking for someone to disapprove. “You want me to sleep in your room this time? Is that such a good idea?”

“My parents just finished closing up the bakery, they won’t be coming up. Besides, I know you, you wouldn’t try anything.”

She lowered the trapdoor, and climbed back down her stairs. After a minute, Cat Noir carefully followed, silently slipping down to follow her. Marinette had already rearranged her pillows, setting hers on one side, and setting the other on the opposite end of the bed. She tucked herself into her blanket, then pat the spot next to her. He seemed to catch on, laying opposite of her on top of her blankets, and using the one she gave him to cover up.

“Thanks, Marinette,” he finally said in the dark. “You’re really awesome, you know that?”

She smiled, any doubts she might have had falling away. “Don’t mention it, Kitty. Goodnight, Cat Noir.”

“Goodnight.”

And with that, she snuggled deeper under her covers, curling up to sooth herself goodnight.

Then promptly screamed bloody murder as some claws and teeth attacked her feet.

“CAT NOIR!” She swung up to glare daggers at him.

“I’M SORRY!” He shot up too, guilty hands up by his stricken face. “It was an accident! I just saw them moving and I couldn’t stop myself!”

“Marinette!?” “Marinette!!”

“Under the bed, now!” She hissed, and he scrambled out, and scurried under the bed, just as her parents opened up.

“Are you alright!?” “What happened?!”

“I-I just had a nightmare!” She excused quickly with a grin. “And fell out of bed! I’m okay though, really!”

“Oh...” Sabine smiled in relief. “Well if you need anything, let us know.”

“I will!” She assured, with more forced cheer, until they closed her door and descended the staircase. Only after their footsteps had completely faded did Marinette finally swing down to glare upside down at the assailant in question. He blinked up at her with drooped ears, then gave a grin that he clearly thought was supposed to be adorable. She just leered harder.

“No more sleeping in the bed for you,” she hissed, pulling herself back up. She dropped the pillow for him by the edge, then the blanket, then rolled over with a huff to get herself to sleep.

He pouted before letting his face drop with a sigh. Being the black cat wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

#marichat #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #Marinette #marinette dupain cheng #cat noir #chat noir #just a silly idea as MY black cat was being a jerk #miraculous #probably been done a million times before but dang it i needed it out of my system #YES I KNOW ITS LADRIEN MONTH I DO WHAT I WANT

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breeeliss · 8 years ago

Note

Marinette is wearing a flower in her hair and bee!Chloé cant control herself for the Marichat tropes.

im glad that maribee!marichat tropes are becoming a thing :P

words: 1695

“Okay, so it says I need to get a package of puff pastry.”

Marinette snorted and spoke with her mouth full. “Strike one. Store bought puff pastry is abominable.”

Queen Bee frowned. “Obviously I would get the expensive kind.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s all sub-par. You gotta make that stuff from scratch otherwise what’s the point?”

“Not all of us live in a professional bakery, Marinette!”

Marinette stuck her tongue out. “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

Queen Bee plucked up some of the mille-feuille crumbs from her plate and threw them in Marinette’s hair, laughing when the girl screamed in outrage. “Don’t sass me, I’m a superhero!”

Marinette shoved a foot against Queen Bee’s thigh, jokingly trying to shove her from her dainty perch on her balcony railing. “I’m giving you my professional opinion.”

“No.” Queen Bee reached over and tapped her on the nose. “You’re making things difficult by not giving me the recipe for these things and forcing me to do research.”

Marinette shrugged. “Family recipe. Sworn to secrecy. Sorry, my dear.”

“I wouldn’t tell anyone! Surely you’d trust me over anyone else.”

“Your sterling commitment to civic duty is not enough of a reason.”

Queen Bee pouted and handed Marinette’s phone back to her. “Fine. I’ll just starve then.”

“Or you could just come back during opening hours and buy some.”

Queen Bee smirked. “Why would I do that if I can just tap on your window and get some for free?”

“Oh, I see,” Marinette said with an eye roll, pulling out the second box of pastries she’d brought with her to the roof. “So I don’t benefit from this arrangement huh?”

“Of course you do, silly,” Bee said. “That Ladyblog girl breaks her neck trying to get exclusive interviews with the four of us and here you are with straight-from-the-source access to anything you could ever possibly want to ask me. Surely you have questions.”

“Yeah just one,” Marinette nodded solemnly. “Who told you that blue eyeshadow and yellow went together?” Marinette burst into giggles when Bee reached over and gently slapped her on the shoulder and started ranting about her elaborate plans to slowly gain her trust and pull this top secret Dupain-Cheng recipe from her one of these days.

Queen Bee was really fun to tease, and Marinette wasn’t quite sure why. She reminded Marinette of Chat Noir in the sense that they were both really strong personalities that tended to be just a touch over the top. The difference was that it was obvious that Chat Noir liked to play it up for the sake of being funny and teasing Ladybug – two of his most favorite pastimes. However, Marinette was convinced that Queen Bee really was this dramatic on a day-to-day basis. She was a ferocious fighter and was more eager than the three of them to jump straight into the action, but would do things like complain about flying on hot days, scream out in horror in the middle of an akuma battle because of a broken nail, or whine melodramatically in front of a closed bakery sign after forgetting that businesses closed early on Sundays.

It should’ve been annoying, but it just made it easy to poke fun at her. Queen Bee wasn’t an obnoxious person, and she had too much respect for her miraculous and for Ladybug to even come close to being someone worthy of Marinette’s scorn. She wouldn’t ever admit this to her, but Bee was wonderful entertainment. She supposed that was why it was so easy to invite her in for pastries and sit with her outside. Despite the fact that this was technically Queen Bee’s first time meeting Marinette, the two of them slipped into their familiar banter as if Marinette’s mask was still up.

Marinette pushed off from where she was leaning against the banister, put the pastries to the side, and went back to her seat in the lawn chair that she’d been occupying before Queen Bee showed up. “You’re so distracting. I was in the middle of something before you showed up.”

Bee scoffed dramatically. “Oh, what could possibly be more important than me?”

“My class is holding a Spring picnic tomorrow,” Marinette explained. “I promised a few friends I’d make them flower crowns to wear tomorrow.”

“Flower crowns?”

“Mmhm.” She held up her wire crown that had un-flowered greens and a few cut white daisies that she was pulling from a store bought bouquet by her feet. “I thought about keeping them all one color, but maybe I should put in some other colors or something. White doesn’t seem very spring-y you know?”

Bee’s wings fluttered briefly as she walked along the balcony wall to the left of Marinette. “They’re pretty…”

“Thanks!” Marinette smiled. “I’ve never made flower crowns before, so it’s been interesting. I don’t mind if you stay, but I kinda want to finish these before I have to go to bed.” She bit her lip and put the flower crown on her head, looking up and adjusting the flowers that were drooping too low past her brows. “Maybe the stems are too long…”

Queen Bee sat on the edge of the balcony and plucked up one of the flowers sitting in front of Marinette. She pressed it to her nose, inhaled, and blinked in shock. “They smell amazing.”

“They’re fresh!” Marinette explained. “Bought them this morning. I’m going to leave them in the refrigerator over night so that they’ll stay stay fresh in the morning. Hopefully the fragrance will stay.”

“No I mean they smell really good,” Bee repeated, keeping the flower close to her nose. “Like…something sweet, and grass, and rain, and something else….”

Marinette looked down and snipped the stems off the flower she just took back. “Well, if I can get the hang of this and if I have flowers left over, I can make you one if you want. I can make it yellow and add in some light blue ones just to help you match that eyeshadow shade you seem so attached to.”

She expected Queen Bee to snap back defensively at Marinette making fun of her makeup again, but she didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, Bee crawled along the banister and leaned over to smell at the flowers in Marinette’s hair. Marinette froze and felt her eyes widen as she heard Bee inhale as deeply as she could. “They smell even better when you have them all clumped together like this….”

“Um,” Marinette muttered. “Thanks?”

Queen Bee gently cupped Marinette’s cheek and tipped her head upwards so that she could press her nose to the center of every flower that was weaved into the crown. Marinette furrowed her brows and looked at Bee from the corner of her eyes, more confused than offended that she was invading her space this much for the sake of just a few cheap flowers she’d bought at a stand earlier that day. She could just see Bee’s wings fluttering gently every time she switched to a new flower and inhaled a new lungful of fragrance.

The hum of her wings was getting louder, and pretty soon she was hovering just a few feet above the ground and practically burying her nose in the flowers. Marinette felt herself smiling with all her teeth. “Are….are you buzzing?”

Queen Bee blinked as if she were clearing her vision and hummed. “What was that?”

“You’re…kind of hovering over me. And getting pollen on your nose.”

It took a few seconds for her to realize that she’d forced Marinette to lean almost completely to one side because she had been getting so closer to her. Queen Bee squeaked in embarrassment, touched her feet down the floor, and skipped back a few steps until she was leaning against the railing at the complete opposite end of the balcony. Her blush was spreading underneath her mask and up to her ears and Marinette had to hold back her comment about Bee sporting all three primary colors on her face at once.

“I’M SORRY!” Queen Bee exclaimed, the apology coming out as an involuntary shout. “Oh God, that was so weird. I was so weird. That was weird. Oh crap, now you think I’m a freak, oh holy effing Christ.”

Marinette snorted in laughter and walked over to Queen Bee, using the sleeve of her sweater to wipe off the bits of pollen that were still on the bridge of her nose. “Don’t worry about it, you’re totally fine. It was just…surprising, that’s all.”

Bee covered her face with her hands and mumbled through her fingers. “I’m still getting used to these superpower things and that’s never happened before!”

Marinette stared at her pitifully and rubbed one of her shoulders. “I mean….maybe it’s a bee thing.”

“What?”

“You know,” Marinette continued. “Bees. Flowers. Pollen. Makes sense.”

“I-I’m not….that’s not….I’m not actually a bee, Marinette!!” she sputtered.

Marinette closed her eyes and winced. “I dunno! That seemed pretty bee-ish.”

Queen Bee’s brows were pulled into a confused scowl and the lingering blush on her face just made the girl look downright adorable – so adorable that Marinette felt her cheeks aching from how hard she was smiling. “I just liked the flowers you picked!! They were really good flowers!!”

“Hey, if you want you can take some. Pollinate some of the gardens nearby.”

“Shut up, you’re the literal worst!”

“I guess I’m definitely making you that flower crown now. I’m afraid you won’t be able to sleep at night without them.”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Are you kidding?” Marinette scoffed. She picked up one of the white daisies and teasingly held it out for Queen Bee to take. “I’ll turn this into a rooftop garden if it means seeing you bug out like that again. Get it? Bug out?”

Queen Bee pouted, snatched the flower out of Marinette’s hands, and turned around with a huff. “So mean…”

Marinette picked the flower crown off of her head and started eyeing the yellow bouquet of flowers still sitting in the paper she’d bought it in. “Yup. You’re definitely getting a crown now.”

#miraculous ladybug #chlonette #chloenette #maribee #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain-cheng #queen bee #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #maribee fanfiction #my writing #ask #anonymous #tumblr fic

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greenparispavement · 8 years ago

Text

Marichat Week: Baton

Marinette paced incessantly, nervous and agitated. The reason for her near panic was shining innocentlyin her hand: a silver cylinder with a green pawprint caught the sunlight every time she made the circuit of her balcony.

Tikki hovered back, just as nervous and ansty.

‘So you’re telling me that he can transform back, but his kwami will be effected, and he now has no way of contacting me?’ Marinette asked. Tikki nodded, her forehead creased.

Marinette sat down on the deckchair in exasperated resignation. ‘That cat is going to be the death of me, someday,’ she sighed. Tikki just nodded sagely behind her.

=0=

‘Plagg; Plagg, calm down!’ Adrien was yelling into his cavernous room at exactly the same moment. The black kwami, of course, did no such thing.

‘I will never be able to show my face in public again,’ he wailed, floating around the room at an odd angle that made him look like a zombie and gave off the maximum aura of despondence. ‘The other kwami will repudiate me! They will strike me off the power list! I’ll never go to a quantac party again! And Tikki! Tikki will want a divorce!’

‘Plagg, I’m sure it’s not so bad as all that,’ Adrien tried, attempting to sooth the little black cat. ‘It’s only a tail, I’m sure once I get the baton back-’

‘Only a tail!’ Plagg squeaked indignantly, first puffing up in rage and then throwing himself in a desperate swoon over the back of the couch. ‘How would you like it if you lost your tail! Oh, the shame and ignominy, and having such an insensitive, unfeeling chosen!’

‘Plagg, it’s not like it’s lost,’ Adrien tried to reason. ‘We know exactly where it is. We couldn’t very well leave Marinette on that burning roof, could we? She needed a way down and we needed to get going. As soon as I can, we’ll tranform and go get it back. She’ll still have it right? It won’t have disappeared?’

‘No,’ Plagg answered sulkily. ‘She’ll have it.’

‘There, you see? No need to worry. As soon as I can get away I’ll transform, go to Mari’s, we get the baton back and everything will be back as it was! Come have some Camembert. Natalie ordered a special batch, fresh from the region, and-’

‘But she’ll know!’ Plagg wailed, startling Adrien, who had to admit that the kwami looked a little lopsided without his tail. ‘She’ll see, and that is already shame enough! No, this is the end, my long and valiant life ends, and therefore I!’ He floated to the dust bin. ‘This is where I live now.’

‘That’s where you usually live,’ Adrien replied, voice flat. However, he couldn’t deny that he was worried; Plagg had never refused Camembert.

Adrien looked at the clock. He didn’t have any more extra-curriculars today, and Natalie should let him be. But it was still early, only half past five, and it was not unknown for his father or his secretary to pop in unannounced to make sure he was doing his homework.

Well, desperate measures. He grabbed the bin and ran to bathroom, opening the shower and locking the door behind him. No one would begrudge him showering, surely.

‘I don’t want to,’ Plagg pouted as soon as Adrien peered down at him over the basket’s rim.

‘You never do, but the sooner we do this, the sooner I get the baton back, then problem solved.’

Plagg glared back fiercely, ‘She’ll see,’ he hissed.

‘Who’s she?! Marinette will only see me, so you don’t have to worry! I didn’t know you liked her that much!’

His kwami’s flat glare did not alter. ‘You are the most oblivious child I’ve ever met. Your father is making a hack-up job of all this. And to think, I usually choose street kids. They’re all whip-smart. But no, not this time! Serves me right for trying to choose a life of luxury!’

Adrien pouted at him, rather hurt. ‘Plagg, transforme-moi,’ he said in a monotone. He felt the magic wash over him, blinked as the light faded and then glanced at the mirror out of habit to make sure everything was ok.

And slapped a hand on his face to stifle the scream that reflexively tried to escape the moment he caught sight of himself.

He was wearing a furry loin cloth. Furry boots. Furry wrist warmers. A lion’s head over his own with the mane as a cloak. His mask was tan.

That was the sum total of everything he was wearing. Adrien had to resist the urge to cover his chest like a bashful virgin (which he was, thank you very much!). He swore he could hear Plagg snickering at him at the back of his mind; something along the lines of ‘if you make me suffer, you must suffer too’.

‘Ok,’ he said, taking deep breathes and trying not to loose his cool. He was Chat Noir, he could do this. Chat … leon? Oh lord help him, he didn’t even fit his own name anymore. But it was ok, it was ok; he just had to go to Marinette, retreave the baton- Marinette! Marinette his cute classmate, his class president, would see him half naked. In furry speedoes.

Plagg was going to get cheddar for a week.

‘Ok, let’s just do this and forget it ever happened,’ he told himself, throwing himself out of the window and promptly plummetting to the ground. Right, no baton. He was going to have to climb a wall to hop roofs, but first, he had to walk.

This was going to be so humiliating.

=0=

When Chat Noir - er, Chat Jaune? Chat … Leon? - landed on the roof behind her balcony, panting and winded, Marinette first jumped, then stared.

And stared and stared.

Who the heck gave him permission to go around dressed like that - not dressed like that - looking incredibly hot with his heaving chest and exposed musculature and oh dear gods were those pecks? Was that a six pack?!

‘Give me a moment, I can explain,’ he panted, going more and more pink the more she stared. Marinette tried to look away, she honestly did, but what business did he have being so gorgeous?! ‘This is my kwami’s idea of a joke. I mean, the object of power. I have. It didn’t like that I lost a piece of the magic. The baton. Thing. And so changed my clothes. Costume. Armour. So now I don’t have any. Armour I mean. Well, clothes too. And ….’

By this point, Chat was crimson in the face, Marinette was purple, and they were both looking at each other uncertainly. Tikki, who’d dived into her purse, gave a tiny giggle, and Marinette coughed to try to cover it up; it broke the deadlock staring contest between them, and Marinette pivoted to look at the wall.

‘Ok it is!’ she said in a squeaky voice. ‘You’re great! Oh I mean gorgeous- I mean!’ Oh, kill her now. She buried her face in her hands. What? What? How dare Chat Noir make her stutter! She only stuttered for Adrien Agreste!

Chat Noir - Jaune? Leon? - meanwhile seemed to be having some sort of epiphany.

‘You stutter when you’re embarrased!’ he said, as if he’d just discovered a new energy source that would save humanity. Marinette moaned mournfully. She hoped now, more than ever, that he would never discover her real identity. She couldn’t ever live with his ego if he discovered he could render her speechless just by going topless. Well, bottomless, too, one could argue. And those furry panties were really hiding nothing from the imagination and why was his skin shining like he’d oiled it?!

‘Well, Princess,’ he said, all traces of embarrassment gone - she knew it - ‘I am sorry for causing distress with my … appearance. I would appreciate if you could, perhaps, return my baton, and I will be on my way.’

Marinette hazarded a peak at him when his tone was not as teasing as she thought it would be. He was standing tall, his arms folded over his bare chest (she did not feel disappointed about that!). A dusting of pink on his cheeks was still visible, but his blush had certainly receded. He looked serious, all business. Marinette had hardly ever seen him without a silly grin on his face. The change, abrupt as it was, managed to worm a sense of worry out from between the mortification (and her suddenly raging libido, which she was not admitting to, no sir).

‘Are you ok?’ she asked, retrieving the baton from her pocket and gladly handing it back. He took it without changing expression.

‘I have caused you distress. My Kwami no doubt thought it was a good joke on me, to make me walk around Paris like this. But he- it, er, didn’t think of you. I’m making you uncomfortable I’m sorry.’

Marinette softened considerably in a place in her heart she did not like to admit existed (it did not, in fact, exist, no sir). Chat … Chat was a gentleman at heart, he’d always been. Seeing her uncomfortable must have really caused him to worry. And Chat had never lied to her - this was his Kwami’s idea of a joke, apparently. It wasn’t his fault.

(Sure, he had no business being that hot, but it wasn’t like he could help it. Shut up, inner-Marinette, we do not want to see his other baton, thank you!)

She’d just about seen everything else, anyway.

Oh dear gods she’d not just thought that!

‘Oh, it’s ok! I was just surprised!’ she squeaked, thoroughly ashamed at her train of thought. (Choo-choo! All aboard the express to sin-city– shut up)

‘I will take my leave,’ he said, bowing down, and Marinette had to bite her lip at the view it gave her of rippling skin and muscle. His face, though, was still so uncomfortable and almost ashamed. She couldn’t let him go like that.

‘Wait!’ she said. Chat, who’d already started to turn, twisted back towards her, just on time for her to catch him off guard. She dropped a light, feathery kiss on his cheek, then retreated back quickly when her hands threatened to linger on that warm, soft hard skin of his shoulder and torso. Silk on steel left a burn mark on her palms, and she rubbed them together to rub the impression out. ‘Thank you. For saving me,’ she said. She hadn’t needed it, but he hadn’t known, and had still handicapped himself in order to save her life. There hadn’t been any way to give him his baton in battle, not when they’d been separated, and he’d been taken over by the akuma before she could rejoin him. But he’d still done it, and then suffered a humiliating trip across Paris from wherever he lived, in a furry pair of panties, just for her.

The place that did not exist in her chest fluttered savagely. Marinette fiddled with her hair, then squeaked a goodbye and hopped into the open skylight, pulling it shut behind her.

She ignored Tikki’s boisterous laughter as she tumbled out of the purse in favour of holding her flaming face in her hands. Oh, dear Kwami gods. She was in trouble.

=0=

Adrien hopped home in a daze. A part of his mind was glad the baton was back, because that made the trip both safer from curious, prying eyes (and cameras) and faster. He was home in five minutes tops and walked right into the still running water without thinking of his clothes. Plagg shrieked as the transformation dropped off, but Adrien didn’t even give it a thought.

His hand, instinctively, had come up to protect his cheek. Water wasn’t going to wash off the feel of warm, soft lips, thank you very much. So he took off his clothes - one-handed - and showered - one-handed - and put his pyjama on and went to bed - one-handed. He only removed his palm from his cheek when Natalie came in to wish him goodnight, and asked if he had a toothache.

He stared at the ceiling of his room, cradling his cheek again. Plagg, who he’d been ignoring since they returned both as a form of retribution and also because he did not seem to have the brain capacity for anything but holding his cheek, finally landed on his chest, demanding attention.

‘Marinette likes me,’ he muttered to the expectant kwami. It had been the only thing rattling through his brain as he staggered around his room, doing things on autopilot. His classmate’s strange behaviour throughout the months they’d known each other had always bothered him - a bit like a fly buzzing around the room. It didn’t hurt you, exactly, but it did really tick you off. And finally, he had an answer, a solution, and it seemed so obvious now that he couldn’t understand how he’d not seen it before.

‘Oh, you noticed,’ Plagg replied. Smug little bastard.

‘You did that on purpose,’ he frowned at the kwami. ‘That wasn’t nice, putting her on the spot like that.’

‘You’re assuming she knows it’s you under the mask.’

‘She likes Chat Noir too,’ Adrien corrected him. Then, looking at the ceiling again and smiling a bit like a goofball, he said, ‘She likes me.’

‘Humph. And you say I never do anything for you,’ the Kwami said, curling up and and going to sleep on Adrien’s chest. But not even the tiny cat-god’s purring could soothe Adrien tonight; not when his heart was beating so fast.

Marinette liked him. Sure, he was sure a very large part of his heart belonged to Ladybug but … Marinette liked him. A girl he knew, who knew him, who went to class with him every day and saw him goof off and be good in class and nerdy in physicis and get his arse handed to him in fencing and… she was amazing too. Smart, creative, so good as class pres, generous. Pretty. Very, very pretty.

Oh wow. Oh, ok, oh wow. He also, apparently, had a crush on Mari. Who liked him. All of him. Heck, she’d called him gorgeous.

Adrien squeaked and buried his face in his hands turning over and curling up. He ignored Plagg’s grumbling as the Kwami settled against his chest again. He ignored the fact that his purring sounded smug.

Marinette liked him. He liked Marinette. Adrien suddenly realised that he’d unwitting stepped into his fist school romance, just like in all those anime he’d watched.

It was a long time before he went to sleep, his heart beating fast and a smile on his face that made his cheeks hurt in the morning.

Maybe Marinette would come to watch a movie with him?

Plagg, the smug bastard, just flicked his newly-reacquired tail in satisfaction, privately hoping Tikki had enjoyed the show as much as he had.

=0=

#marichat week #joint effort #drabble collab #baton #maricat #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agrest #chat noir #miraculou ladybug #ladybug #drabble #fanfic

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serenephenix · 8 years ago

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Tangled Twisted Torn

So, it’s been a while and I wanted to just put this out here to revive this blog a little!

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Tangled Twisted Torn

[Fandom]: Miraculous Ladybug

[Rating]: Gen

[Genre]: Hurt/Comfort, Family, Drama, Friendship, Angst with Happy Ending, Identity Reveal

[AU]: Gabriel Agreste/ Hawk Moth are two different people

[Pairing]: hints of Ladrien/Marichat

[Word count]: 27,315 (total)

[Warning]: generous amounts of angst, mentions of depression & symptoms, parenting done horribly wrong

[Status]: completed/ 4 chapters

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Chapter 1: The Climax

The situation was worse than she had anticipated as the pushed open the doors to the inner courtyard of her school. The midday sun cast a fresh glow into the gloom that pressed in on her from all sides, yet it did not lighten up the place nor its atmosphere.

As she ventured forth, letting go of the door, it shut closed and Marinette regretted it dearly not only because without the source of light the darkness pressed in on her but also because the loud clank that the door had emitted would alert whatever Akuma had taken residence here.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose, making her whirl around, feeling like she was being watched. But the court was deserted, enormous spider webs, both in their usual geometrical shapes and some more like drawn curtains with how thickly they were webbed, obscuring the ceiling and blocking off various stairs and doors.

For once, even in her Ladybug persona, she felt more than just apprehension – she was outright scared. Had there not been a desperate cry from across the phone line from Alya, screaming about a masked boy terrorizing the school, she might have arrived back from break to find herself in front of a building that was dead silent, wondering where everyone had gone.

She jumped about a mile when something crawled on her shoulder, the startled scream escaping her before she could stop it and brushing at her right shoulder frantically. She was surprised to see a spider, probably half as big as the palm of her hand, dropping on the ground and scuttle away urgently into the shadows.

A sense of foreboding filled her.

“I really, really don’t like this.”, she muttered to herself, mostly to calm herself and light the mood. It made her realize just why she was so on edge.

With urgency she snatched her yoyo from her hip, opening a channel to communicate her situation to Chat. The screen remained eerily blank as she tried even harder to get through to him but the call remained unanswered. Of all the times for him to not be available, this had to be the absolute the worst.

His presence, and his night-vision especially, would make her feel her more secure. Even his exasperating puns would be welcome right now; anything to make her feel a little less small and desolate.

The air inside here was already affecting her: not a good sign. It meant that whatever Akuma she was dealing with had to be very powerful. Although she knew she could hold her own against an akumatized person whose anger or sadness were shallow, people with strong feelings like with Kim, Alya or the mime, made for formidable and redoubtable foes.

These were the kinds of Akuma that made her consider twice even trying to handle the situation on her own.

But if the darkened screen was anything to go by, there really was no choice in the matter. Snapping her yoyo shut, Ladybug advanced carefully. The Akuma was hiding here somewhere and probably holding her friends hostage. A spike of fear shot through at the thought of Alya, Adrien, Nino and any of her classmates being trapped somewhere in this oppressing, dark liar that the Akuma had made out of her school.

Taking a run, she jumped up and grabbed onto the handrail of one of the staircases and hefted herself over it and onto the steps silently. Intuition telling her to further down the corridor, she made sure not to brush the nets obstructing her path. She was not sure if these were as sticky as your usual spider web or even more so because of their unnatural size.

The double doors to the auditorium were wide open like the maws of a hungry animal beckoning her inside. She was hesitant to enter. This could be a trap, it probably was but the decision was taken from her when she was showered with a myriad of spiders, tumbling from the ceiling.

Screaming would have been a relief but she was too freaked out to even do that. She ran through the doors, panicked, trying to shake the little nuisances off of her and out of her hair. He shuddered violently in revulsion. Usually something like that would not faze her but the whole atmosphere made her more skittish than she ever would have allowed.

It was for things like this she needed Chat. True, she always told him off whenever he tried to joke during fights but what she wouldn’t give for one of his terrible puns right now. He may be clumsy and an incorrigible flirt but his presence at her side always held a comforting quality.

The hall was empty, webs spun across its ceiling and down over the windows over which the curtains had not been drawn, yet the silvery threads draped over them so thickly that light was scarce. It upset her that she had played right into her opponent’s hand.

A figure in the dark drew her attention. Electrifying, slitted green eyes gazed at her, her heart leaping up her throat with relief. She was about to call out to her partner for help, but the words died away when he moved closer into dim light that penetrated through a thick web on one of the windows.

“Who would have thought I’d be lucky enough to have a little Ladybug flying into my net.”

Marinette was too shocked for words at the sight greeting her.

“Surprised to see me?” His voice was smooth, just like when they were on patrol - unmistakeable. He considered her a moment longer, his eyes narrowing in a manner that was more threatening than playful. “Usually I would say ‘cat gout your tongue’ but that really doesn’t fit anymore now, does it?”

Her mouth was dry and her mind still scrambling to regain full coherency as she looked at the person who was supposed to be her partner.

The black leather suit was almost the same, sans the characteristic ears, bell and the belt acting as a makeshift tail. A butterfly-shaped mask covered a little less of his face than his normal one, exposing a slanted nose and high, rounded cheeks. His hair was as wild and wind-swept as ever but it looked even more unkempt than usual. Peeking from beneath the golden locks was a purple headgear, four pointy spikes like pincers coming to frame the lower part of his face. Tigh-high black boots clicked too loudly on the floor as he took a few more languid steps towards her. She noticed a purple pattern that almost blended with the black of the rest of his outfit – a stylized spider web stretching out over his torso where his heart should be and two angular lines twisting around his arms like shackles, ending at the tip of the third finger at each of his hands.

A simple, violet rubber band, similar to the ones Nino liked to wear, stood out oddly against his ensemble. She instantly knew where the accursed butterfly had sought refuge.

She steeled herself, pushing the implications that came with the item into the back of her mind. The fact that his black ring was missing disturbed her. Hopefully it was still on his person and not already in the clutches of their enemy.

“What are you doing, Chat?”, it was less of a question and more of a demand. She could not figure it out - not just the part about how he had been influenced by Hawk Moth but also why he was targeting her school specifically. Dread pooled into her stomach like chips of ice. Did he know about her civilian identity and so by extension Hawk Moth?

He studied her face before looking off at the side, tapping his lip as though in thought.

“I don’t know.”, he mocked, giving her a feral smirk, “Maybe I happen to like this place?”

She stared at him not sure what to make of this kind information.

A spider had found its way onto his shoulder but instead of disgust a small smile showed as he gently petted it with a single finger. The whole image was unsettling, knowing that this was her partner and friend.

“Oh, the others are behaving.”, he murmured. Yet, with how silent it was, she did not even need to strain her ears, “That’s good.”

An angry frown settled on her face, taking a guess about who these “others” were.

“What did you do to the students?”

His attention was back on her, his smirk aggravating her all the more for how casual it seemed to be.

“Nothing much.”, he almost sing-songed as he slowly started to circle her at a distance, “I just roped them into staying here with me.”

She wanted to resist but it was impossible.

“Really, Chat? You still have to make lame puns when you’re possessed by an Akuma?”

It had been the wrong thing to say. Faster than she could comprehend, his arm had shot out and her foot was stuck in a white, sticky clump attached to the floor. She struggled hard as Chat closed the distance between them. He was not that much taller than her but in this instance he towered over her like a large predator, his acid green eyes burning.

“I am not Chat Noir.”, he hissed, his glare making her shrink back, “I am now Fileur.”

His hand twitched upwards as though ready to grasp her chin but to her astonishment he refrained from doing so, resorting to just staring at her with an unreadable expression.

The suffocating silence stretched and for once Marinette really had no idea what was going through the silly cat’s head. Usually he was so easy to read. Or at least that was what she liked to tell herself. After all she had never once seen him gaze at her with such broken but hopeful eyes.

She jerked when he lightly took both her hands, his touch nothing but a mere brush to her fingers. It was more disconcerting than if he had crushed them in his grip.

“My Lady,”, he began and she was startled when she involuntarily recognized something of Chat in that tone, “please stay here with me and the others.”

It made no sense. Just what emotion had bred the Akuma?

The answer became obvious when she managed to catch a glimpse of his expression through her own shock and bewilderment.

He was taught, anxiously waiting for her answer, anxious to see her turn her back on him and leave him behind. It broke her heart. She thought they’d established that he was important to her, her invaluable partner. She thought she’d made it clear that his presence was a welcome one. It had never occurred to her that he could feel lonely or doubt she would want him by her side.

But was it just that?

It couldn’t be. This was not just something between them. Why else would her friends and other students have been dragged into this mess? This boy, who she now had to accept was part of the student body of this school, maybe someone she knew and had most likely crossed paths with on a daily basis, was lonely - lonely enough to have become an Akuma. Her mind was racing, trying to narrow down the list of possible victims in record time. Maybe it could help her in swaying him, in distracting him enough to destroy the band and free him from the butterfly’s influence.

Nathanel sprang to mind but it was illogical, although the boy was indeed all by himself most of the time. Kim and Ivan were out of the count simply because of their height and she did not think that while her and Chat’s disguises altered their appearance in more subtle ways that it could actually hide that much bulk. Adrien she considered briefly, although that made no sense either, since he was popular and liked to spend time with Nino. Maybe she was on the wrong track and it was someone from another class…

His twitching fingers alerted her to the fact that he was still waiting, although resignation had mingled with the sadness.

“I see.”, he breathed, about to let his fingers slip but Ladybug, in a moment of desperate improvisation, held onto them more firmly.

Either she was now digging her grave or this crude plan that had taken root in her head might work out. She had to humor him long enough for her to slip off the rubber band and tear it apart. There was no other way!

“Actually”, she said, hoping that her voice sounded convincing enough, “I would like that.”

She hated how those words made his face glow; she hated how she would probably break his heart.

“Let’s go see the others!”, he said excitedly, suddenly buzzing with a giddy energy that was completely at odds with his hostile appearance. Seeing him so genuinely happy made her feel as though a nail was being driven into her chest. Hopefully, she would be able to make him smile like this again once he was back to normal.

His gloved hand went for her ear and she knew what he was about to do even before he had voiced it: “You won’t be needing these anymore.”

Luckily, her reflexes took over. Her left foot was stuck but with her right one still free, there was plenty she could do. She ducked away from his touch, dropping into a crouch and swiping her leg across the floor, tripping her surprised partner and slamming the heel of her foot onto his chest for good measure, effectively winding him.

Chat (because she refused to call him anything but) was a gasping, spluttering mess on the floor and Marinette hoped she had not hurt him too bad. Knowing there was little time left, she took the string of her yo-yo between her fingers and with its help shaved off parts of the lumpy web that held her to the floor. Not looking back, she stormed out through the door, an outraged scream following in her wake.

She ran, dodging webs and nets that came flying from behind her, Chat already in pursuit.

In purr-suit.

God, she wanted to hit herself. Channeling her partner’s abysmal sense of humour would not help her freeing the latter. Taking a risk, she turned around just as she passed a huge glass display filled with art projects from students, throwing her yo-yo at it and making it topple over with a crunching thud, broken glass and contents spilling on the floor.

It forced Chat to retreat a step or two, but his accusing glare closed the distance between them effortlessly. Their staring stalemate was interrupted when a door behind Ladybug crashed open, flooding the corridor with sunlight.

With war cries, her friends and classmates emerged: Ivan and Kim were armed with broomsticks, while Nino brandished an oversized ruler for the blackboard like a sword. Alya looked downright ferocious with how the sharp edge of an equally large set square was pointed at Chat.

Others were huddled behind this intimidating frontline but the heroine could not distinguish what kinds of ‘weapons’ they had chosen to go against their foe with. She noted, with great worry, that Adrien was nowhere to be seen.

Alya gave a surprised “Ladybug?” but Marinette had no time to spare, because a panicked shout from Chat had her looking back at him.

His face was a mixture of deception and anger, laced with that fear she had seen earlier. For a moment, she was afraid that he would attack but he opted to take off through one of the overhead windows, seemingly not thinking he could take on so many adversaries, even if only one of them was on par with his abilities.

Ladybug followed him with her eyes, worry clenching her throat shut until it felt like it had shrunk down to the width of a one cent coin. She decided to run after him once she had made sure that everyone was safe.

Turning around, she looked straight at her best friend, the sight of her unharmed giving her all the strength and confidence she needed.

“Are you alright? Is everyone okay?”

Before Alya could even utter a sound, Chloé fought her way from the far back to the front, shoving and pushing at people, screeching and complaining at the top of her lungs: “Of course not! Couldn’t you have come earlier! All those spider webs are completely ruining my shirt!”

She wiped down her pristine white tank-top with a look of disgust, before Ivan removed her forcefully, her protest loud and clear but Marinette tuned it out in favour of listening to her friend.

“We are alright.”, she assured, exhaling slowly “Fileur didn’t do anything to us.”

Marinette blinked at her confusedly and Nino sprung in to clarify: “It’s crazy, but he actually never even touched a hair on any of us.”

“Yeah, he just herded us inside the classroom and simply glued the door shut with his web!”, someone, maybe Alix, shouted from the end of the mass of students.

That was not something Ladybug had expected. At least not from an akumatized victim. Although, Chat Noir always was too nice.

Maybe that was why he had become possessed in the first place…

She had to keep it together; she could not space out like this. She needed answers and leads.

“Did he say anything to you?”, she inquired, hoping that it might give her a hint as to what he was after, although she already had a good idea.

They suddenly looked very uncomfortable, as though they themselves had yet to wrap their minds about whatever words had undoubtedly been directed at them.

“Well,”, Alya finally said, “He was going on about how we would all stay here with him, that he just needed to find both you and my friend, Marinette, and that we would have all a great time together.”

“Is your friend alright?”, she ventured, thus ensuring no one would ever suspect her . “Is there anybody else missing?”

The fact that Adrien had been left out of the equation upset her. Did Chat maybe hold a grudge against the boy, wanting him left out or removed from the others because he had made friends so easily? Had he done something to him? There was something missing.

“Marinette was at home when the attack happened, so she’s fine but…”

“But another friend is missing. Adrien Agreste, the model, ya know?”, Nino asked and Ladybug nodded. She was taken aback by the dark boy’s crestfallen look.

“He ran off and before I could find him we were being attacked.”

Concern flooded her. She too had noticed something had been bothering her crush all day but any and all questions by his friends were met with a polite smile and a swipe of his hand.

“We gotta find him!”, Nino suddenly exclaimed with a shudder, which his classmates copied as they looked at their altered surroundings, “The classroom was downright cheery compared to this. He could be stuck somewhere!”

It was a difficult decision but Ladybug shook her head no: “It’s too dangerous. You all have to go home before Fileur can catch you all again. He is after the class as a whole. Once you separate he will have a much harder time accomplishing his goal.”

She could see them ready to protest but she stopped them with a sign of her hand.

“If you insist, I give you ten minutes to look for him but promise you will be gone if you do not find him.”

That made them comply and she readied herself to follow her partner through the remains of the window, when Alya, ever the journalist, asked the one question she had dreaded: “Hey, where is Chat Noir?”

She almost stumbled, the string of her yo-yo which was attached to a beam on the ceiling the only thing keeping her from falling.

“He is occupied.”

And she fled before she could give anything away. People’s memories were erased when they had been under the influence of an Akuma or its victim in an attack that altered their minds. Powers like those of Mr. Pigeon or Stormy Weather were not easily ignored and not wiped from people’s minds once she used her Miraculous.

The less people knew about Chat’s involvement, the better for him and his reputation.

Speeding over the roofs of the city, she sought out the highest point she could reach in the vicinity, but the altered Chat remained elusive, having left no indication as to where he was headed.

The glare of the sun’s rays was mocking her and Marinette felt like storm clouds would have been the most fitting setting for today’s events. She ventured down a boulevard, gauging the reaction of people, hoping for anything that could give away her partner’s whereabouts. People were pointing at her instead, frustration growing inside her, until her ears picked up the broadcast of a radio station from inside a red car with its windows down.

She hurried towards it, urging the gaping man inside to turn up the volume.

“…tourists and citizens are speaking of a black-clad man attacking anyone approaching Eiffel Tower.

Sounds quite troublesome, if you ask me Jean.

It is. The police forces can’t get past, seeing as their equipment and most of their men are stuck in some kind of net…”

She needn’t hear any more. Her body was on autopilot as she swung from roof to roof, crossing over courtyards with powerful jumps, her eyes trained on the tip of the city’s emblem.

From afar, she never would have noticed a change but as she landed at the foot of the tower, the silvery nets and glittering threads were impossible to miss in the sunlight. They barricaded the doors to the elevator, made accessing the stairs impossible and climbing in any other fashion was out of the question, the poor, terrified policemen stuck to beams a grim warning to anyone daring enough to try.

She saw Sabrina’s father, Roger, hurrying towards her but she decided it was best to avoid any sorts of questions that might give away the actual situation.

“Sorry, Mr. Roger but I have to go right now!”

Looking for a beam that was not coated she swung her way up, having an idea where exactly Chat had made his base.

The top was partly covered in what looked like a great cocoon of webs but an obvious opening gave her the possibility to enter with a leap.

She rolled onto the narrow platform, trying to quickly assess the situation, to make sure Chat could not surprise her with an attack from her dead angle.

She avoided the net aimed at her head by a hair, pivoting to face her partner. Chat stood behind her, shaking with unbridled anger, his hand that was not outstretched fisted in a manner that had to hurt his knuckles. He was breathing heavily through his nose as though there was not enough air entering his lungs, his mouth a pale thin line. The thing that surprised her the most was the moisture shining in his eyes.

“Why!”, he screamed, voice booming and filled with unrestrained rage, “Why are you trying to steal it all from me!”

She dodged as he threw another web at her, his accusation having thrown her off balance both physically and emotionally.

“I don’t know what you mean!”

She ducked under another onslaught of threads and nets, taking a few steps back, her words having rallied up her friend even more. If only she had called for her Lucky Charm before having entered his liar. Now, she would not get that kind of golden opportunity again.

“Talk to me, Chat! What are you so afraid of?”, she screamed at him, because she was scared, scared for her friend whom she had never seen act like that, whom she wanted to help, who she wanted to save just as he had done so many times for her.

Her pleading eyes seemed to do the trick for he stilled in his attack, his eyes an open book, showing all his reluctance to hurt her, his inner turmoil, his uncertainty, his shame.

A pink halo of a butterfly illuminated his face, making him grunt and hold his head as if in pain. She had to act while Hawk Moth distracted him. Closing the distance between them with a powerful jump, she landed in front of him and grabbed his right arm with a bone-crushing force, anything to make sure that he could not get away.

Instead struggling or trying to push her off, he did yet again something she had not counted on: Locking his other arm just beneath her shoulders from around her back her trapped her against him, pressing hard enough that it became difficult to breathe.

The pink halo still rimmed his face as he stared at her intently, his mouth drawn into a snarl, although she could not say for sure if it was entirely directed at her.

She did not loosen her grip and Chat increased the pressure again, bruising her arms but she would not let go.

The pink flared with light and Chat actually sagged as if whatever Hawk Moth was doing, took all of his strength. It was all she needed. Wriggling out, she slid her hand over his whole arm, the rubber band slipping over his hand easily. She put as much distance between as she could with one kick.

“No!”

The desperation in that shout stilled her as she prepared to rip the accessory to shreds, wanting to reduce this thing that had twisted him to smithereens. But she made the monumental mistake to look at Chat’s face.

Gone was the anger and the superiority, the banter and threatening aura. In its wake stood a boy about to break.

“Please,” he pleaded pitifully, crumpling to his knees, shaking as if he were caught in a blizzard, “Please, don’t destroy it. Please, don’t take it away. I’ll do anything, just please,” he wailed, tears now spilling forth as easily as his sob-wrecked begging “Don’t make me go back.”

He was outright crying now and Marinette remained frozen, torn between returning her partner to normal and suddenly realizing that once the Akuma was purged, her friend’s problems might be far from over.

Chat was always expressive and open. It had never occurred to her that the life he led outside of patrols, fights with villains and their friendly banter could be anything but enjoyable. He had never given her an indication that there might be something fundamentally wrong with it.

His mask had fooled her pretty good.

She wanted to hug him, hold him close, give him the security and comfort that he obviously needed, that he had craved enough to let Hawk Moth coerce him into cooperation him.

She wanted to help him, to make sure that whatever was tormenting him would be banished from his life.

Darkness bubbled around his ankles, revealing white sneakers, the pink halo returning and painting a horrified expression on Chat’s face. Ladybug knew that Hawk Moth was now threatening to take Chat’s powers away and she saved him the indecision and herself the pain of knowing which side he might choose.

“Sorry, Chat.”

And she ripped the rubber band in two.

Chat sat on his haunches, looking as if his world had ended while she trapped the tiny butterfly in her yo-yo and cleansing it silently, unable to send it off as cheerily as she usually did. Throwing her weapon into the air, her powers swept over her immediate surroundings and over the city, the obstructing cocoon vanishing, giving way to a bright, blue sky behind a now repaired steel grid.

She turned as a hazy purple layer lifted from her partner and picked up the inconspicuous electric-blue rubber band lying on the platform.

Her partner would be disoriented, she knew, probably not remembering what he had done. The urge to turn around and console him was physically painful to repress.

The prolonged silence was not broken by questions but by a strangled sob.

“I’m sorry.”

She startled, almost facing him but refraining: “Do you remember?”

The sobs grew louder and laboured: “No, but me being here without my ring and you being here on top of the Eiffel Tower is all I need to know.”

The beep of her earring alarmed them to the little they had left and Ladybug had never hated it more than now.

A back blur zoomed past her ear at lightning speed. She and Chat gave cries of surprise, her having turned around on instinct but a flash of green blinding her momentarily. Blinking her eyes open, she was surprised to see her partner in full attire, a look of bewilderment on his face as he stared at his hand where a familiar black ring sat on his finger, a green paw shining brilliantly.

It must have been his kwami, she finally realized.

“Plagg?”, Chat breathed quietly but crying still and the flow of tears increasing. His eyes shone with gratitude, disbelief, relief but it was smothered under guilt and self-reproach. He cradled his hand to his chest like a wounded animal.

“I’m so sorry, so, so sorry, please forgive me, I’m so sorry…”

It was a terrible chant.

Ignoring the beeping and her initial reservations, she went over to her hunched friend and embraced him. He went rigid under her touch and to her great relief finally stopped his frenzied apologies.

She felt the fabric of her suit growing damp on her right shoulder.

“Shhh.”, she soothed, running a hand over his messy mop of blond hair but he seemed reluctant to let her comfort him, unwilling to reciprocate the embrace.

“You should go.”, he rasped, driving her to instead hug him closer, “Your miraculous…”

“You know,” she cut him off gently, stunning him into silence, “I think I just decided that your wellbeing might be more important than my secret.”

She did not think it physically possible for a human to cry any harder than he did at that moment, suddenly flinging his arms around her and holding onto her as though she was his lifeline.

She could feel tears gather in the corner of her own eyes, his distress too raw to bear.

The final beep rang out and her suit vanished. Chat froze in her arms like a startled kitten and she continued to stroke his locks in her civilian form. From the corner of her eyes she could see Tikky settling on her other shoulder, her eyes filled with compassion and sadness.

Marinette found it strange that no one had come up here yet, but maybe people assumed that there could not possibly be anyone left on the top-most platform. Wind swept past them lazily and under the burning mid-day sun her partner wept his heart out. She could feel her phone buzzing in her pocket a few times, panicked calls from friends and classmates surely, but she ignored her need to know whether they were fine and whether Adrien had been found in order to provide all the comfort Chat needed.

It took some time, her legs having gone numb from her sitting on them for too long, but finally her friend managed to breathe normally again and his sobs subsided. He had yet to lift his head and Marinette could not help but admire him for being respectful of her old wishes even while such a mess himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His hands fisted into her jacket, his knuckles cracking.

“I’m going to lose everything I have worked so hard for and there is nothing I can do to avoid it.”

He did not start crying again but he began to shake anew.

“How come?”, she asked kindly, rubbing small circles on his back. He felt almost feverish under her touch but her partner had always been a furnace.

The answer took its time to travel from his brain to his mouth.

“My… parent decided that I am not meeting their expectations anymore.”, defeat was evident in his voice, “He has decided that I am to stay at home at all times just like before but…”

He choked, and Marinette’s heart bled as he took shaky breaths.

“I can’t.” he confessed, voice hoarse from crying and pain, “I don’t want to lose all the friends I’ve made. I don’t want to return to a cold and empty house full of people just there to keep me in line.”

“I don’t want to give up on being Chat Noir.”, he finished with a self-depreciating laugh, his mind on the events that had led to this very moment.

It sounded as awful as it probably was for her friend.

“I was fighting so hard to keep myself in check. I knew he would target me.”

The guilt was tearing him apart.

“But when he told me that there was a way to escape it all, when he made it clear that even as Chat I would not be able to outrun my father’s influence… the only thing I could do was rip the ring off my finger and tell Plagg to run.”

He held her close, seemingly hoping that through touch alone he could communicate everything he wanted to tell her, to make her understand all of these emotions that tormented him.

“I’m sorry I let you down, both you and Plagg. I’m a terrible partner.”

“No, you aren’t.”, she told him, her voice loud, clear and commanding. She felt the leather ears perk one the side of her head.

“Even while possessed, you remained kind.”

She had had a glimpse at the classroom, flooded with light when the schoolhouse had been dim and dark. She remembered her friends saying he had not hurt them, despite keeping them inside. She had not forgotten about his gentle hold on her hands or his initial self-restriction to touch her in a ruthless fashion.

“It must have been lonely. You have nobody to talk to, am I right?”

He shook his head, effectively burying his nose in the crook of her neck, warm but ragged breaths ghosting over her skin. It did not bother her as much as it might have on any other day. A lot of things were going to inevitably change from today onwards.

She regretted having kept their identities secret. She had thought it to be for the best, to make it easier to protect themselves and their loved ones. In the end it had only led to pain and the very thing she had so feared.

They would need to talk about Hawk Moth as well, since now he knew about Chat’s identity. How much they were at risk right now, she did not know but she did not want to weigh him done even more. His heart was already heavy enough with shame and sadness.

She cast Tikky a questioning look, silently asking her for advice. Was it too risky to reveal herself? Would it help prevent such incidents? A reassurance that should something similar happening again, they both could seek out the other for support?

Old eyes glanced back at her, yet they held no answer. It was a decision she would have to make on her own and to bear the consequences of it.

“Chat,” she said quietly, catching his attention, “what if … what if you just lifted your head?”

He went rigid, to the point Marinette was afraid that he had suddenly turned to stone.

She frowned.

“No.”, he hushed, burying his head deeper into her shoulder. Marinette would have never expected that kind of answer but it did painfully make sense.

“If I know your identity and this happens again, then Hawk Moth will have the both of us. We can’t risk it.”

His laugh was anything but jovial: “Here I have my Lady, willing to take off her mask and because I messed up, I won’t get a chance to appreciate the person behind it.”

She opted to quietly stroke his hair as he went on: “I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to remain a Miraculous wielder.”

He hands stilled. That thought had yet to occur to her and the realization how very possible this outcome was stole her breath away.

Tikky patted her cheek, making Marinette jerk, having forgotten that her kwami was still present. Chat tensed further under her but otherwise did not try to move, probably fearing he would catch a glimpse of her.

Tikky shook of the head, addressing Chat: “You needn’t worry. You, and only you, are the Chosen for taking up the role of Chat Noir. As long as you do not reject that name, none but you can bear the name and duty of protecting Ladybug.”

The unfamiliar voice startled him bad but his face remained glued to her shoulder, not otherwise responding to the kwami’s words. She could only hope that he was not seriously considering it.

The buzzing from her pocket increased in frequency, telling her that now she was stretching the limits of Alya’s and possibly her parents’ patience.

“We will have to go soon, people are looking for us.”, she said slowly as she gently untangled from their embrace. As she gingerly stood on wobbly legs, prickling with pins and needles, she saw Chat closing his eyes, head turned sideways.

He looked miserable and lost but there was no time, unless she wanted her best friend to turn to the authorities. She also needed to check on Adrien.

“Do you” he began and swallowed before going on, “do you need help getting off the tower?”

A smile graced her features as she squeezed his shoulder.

“I’ll be alright, kitty. There’s this nifty invention they call elevator and if that does not work there’s always the stairs.”

It coaxed a twitch of his mouth out of him but not much more.

“We will find a solution to this.”, she told him reassuringly and with a bit of persuasion, if not for him then for herself, “I will see you around.”

She did not dare formulate it as a question, a small part of her still terrified at the idea that he might take this as an incentive to disappear for good.

She waited, as he sat there, worrying his lips until finally his quiet affirmation washed some of the worry away.

In a bout of affection and sympathy, she leaned down and planted a quick kiss on the crown of his head, slipping the rubber band into his open palm, a stifled gasp coming out of him before she turned to take the stairs.

Going down with the elevator would attract too much attention, she concluded. Opening her purse while minding every step she took, she briefly stopped to watch Chat Noir’s form retreat into the distance as he sprang from the tower.

She felt immensely bad for having kept from him the fact that she now knew without a doubt that he was from her school as well as not actually having concrete solutions to his civil life problem.

Securing her purse and checking that Tikky’s supply of cookies was still intact, the kwami already nibbling on the edge of a treat, she grabbed her phone and checked all the messages that had come in during their time on top of the tower.

Mostly, frantic texts from Alya asking where she was and whether she was alright, others depicting their rescue by Ladybug and few worrying ones about Adrien still missing - not even his secretary knowing where he had disappeared to.

Marinette’s stomach twisted into a hard knot. She briefly bemoaned the fact that she had missed the chance to ask Chat but remembered that it would not have made a difference since he did not remember anything that had happened at school. He would not know where to look for their friend.

As she reached the final steps another message arrived, informing her that Adrien had been found.

A sigh untangled her insides and made her chest lighter.

Apparently he had been stuck in the locker room, unable to leave. On a side note, Alya mentioned that after all the commotion, school had been cancelled for the rest of the day, many of the students and teachers too upset to work effectively anymore.

She texted Alya back immediately, once she was on firm ground and making sure that none of the police men were looking her way or paying a misplaced single student too much attention. Most of them were still dazed by the events to pay much attention to her anyway.

Upon her return home, she was greeted by her parents and her best friend all of them demanding to know where she had been. It seemed that the excuse of her having roamed the streets in hopes of finding Ladybug was deemed reasonable.

When Alya’s phone chimed while she and Marinette sat at a table in the bakery, the latter could not help but notice the frown on her best friend’s face.

“What is it?”

Alya gave her a conflicted glance before sighing: “Nino’s worried about Adrien, is all.”

She had hastened her speech, maybe hoping that Marinette would not catch on but she underestimated her ability to focus on minor details when it came to her crush.

“But I thought you said he was alright!”, she really did not want to make it sound accusing but with everything she had been through today it was somewhat difficult to keep her emotions in check.

Alya gave her a look between understanding and vindicative.

“I haven’t seen him to be honest, I was only relaying the first message Nino sent me.”

She seemed to consider her next words carefully.

“He just wrote that Adrien was being awfully quiet. He’s probably spooked from having been trapped in a dark room the whole time.”

He face scrunched up in what Marinette recognized to be her “journalist” expression, the one where she would discuss theories and findings until Marinette’s ears had already fallen off and run over the hills.

“That Fileur guy was really strange you know.”

Marinette felt her limbs go stiff with shock. She should have expected this, but she was not yet ready to have this talk. Not so shortly after having seen her partner dissolved into tears.

But she had to play along if she did not want Alya to get suspicious.

“Oooh, really?”, her voice sounded strangled, like a poor trapped animal and she was glad Alya was too absorbed to notice.

The dark-skinned girl nodded.

“He wouldn’t stop talking about how we could all just stay at school with him. That no one had to be all alone anymore…”

She stopped there and her grey eyes held a disquieted gloom that Marinette had seldom seen there: “He actually sounded really lonely.”

Marinette did not trust her voice, prompting her to nod.

“I wonder who it could have been?”, she mumbled to herself before turning back to Marinette, “You got any ideas?”

Marinette shook her head no and was relieved when Alya dropped the subject once it became clear that she, who had been absent, could not provide more insight on the matter, even though the enthusiastic blogger could not have been more wrong.

The quiet of the night and exhaustion did not bring her the sleep she wished would take her worries from her shoulders for a while. Beside her Tikky lay on the pillow wide awake and watching her attentively as she tossed and turned.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, the red kwami asked tentatively.

They had opted to not mentioning today’s events over the course of the evening but the doubts and nagging thoughts remained nonetheless, keeping her from sleeping.

Marinette turned her head, looking at her friend intently.

“I just want to make sure he is alright.”, she whispered into the darkness, “He was so shaken up and… I want to make up to him.”

She felt at fault too. They were supposed to support one another, yet she had relied too much on his goofiness and as she had now to accept, thick-layered and exaggerated humor, his independence and confidence which were actually as fragile as glass.

Though she had done so before, she now wondered with more seriousness about the boy behind the mask of Chat Noir. She had always pictured a boy with the same unruly hair, a flirtatious smirk on his lips at the ready and surrounded by his friends who would laugh at his jokes and look up to him for being the cool kid with the fast quips and big mouth. A boy who was trying to woo the girls with smart (?) remarks. A joker and jester who laughed the loudest. An open book. A kind and supportive soul with a touch of clumsiness. A brave kid who was in over his head, doing break-neck stunts at the park with his friends.

What she had seen today did not align at all with that mental image she had crafted.

The Chat she had witnessed today was afraid. The Chat she had seen was lonely, cherishing the few people close to him. The Chat that had been revealed to her today was not free, tied to a leash of responsibilities or restrictions imposed on him. The Chat she discovered was terrified of being left behind. The Chat she had consoled today was starving for love and attention.

It shattered everything she had thought she knew about her partner.

How she wished that her cleansing light could have made disappear whatever had loomed over her partner’s head. It made her want to make sure he was not agonizing over his akumatization, to make sure he would not disappear into the night to be gone forever. She could not face Hawk Moth on her own.

Tikky shook her head as Marinette looked at her glowing eyes.

“Give him time. I am sure that Plagg is making sure he is not endangering himself or doing something rash.”, she sounded almost amused, picking Marinette’s interest.

“Plagg is Chat’s kwami, isn’t he?” That sort of made him Tikky’s partner she mused.

“He is indeed.”, she said fondly, “Loves mischief as much as cheese, but in the end he will be there for his miraculous.”

Although she should feel reassured by those words, Marinette could not put her heart at ease, beating inside her ribcage like a restless bird.

The tip of one of Tikky’s limbs stroked at her cheek gently: “Just try to sleep.”

Next morning came yet again with sunshine and cloudless skies but Marinette had to wrestle herself out of bed anyway, sleep having been elusive into the early hours of the night. Exhaustion had dragged her under and still held her firmly in its clutches as she descended into the kitchen and bit into a freshly baked croissant. Not even the tea her mother brewed, a mix of mint and lemon grass, could wake her completely.

The dreams she had had were mere snippets but had been unsettling and dark, although she could not remember them clearly. She was not even sure if they had even made sense.

It had taken most of her self-control to keep from contacting Chat, just to make sure, just to know and to be there if needed.

Alya was upon her the instant she saw her slightly ashen complexion and tired eyes. Telling her that she had had a rough night was not even a lie. Alya gave her an incredulous expression, somewhere between amused and offended.

“It’s funny how you are having nightmares when you haven’t even been trapped in a school turned into a spooky haunted manor.”

She chuckled at that, scratching at her cheek sheepishly for good measure.

“Are you alright, Alya?”

Her friend gave her a wink: “I might have spent a good portion of yesterday mulling over what happened but it could have been worse.”

Marinette blinked up at her in confusion.

“You remember when Mylene got turned into that gooey monster, trapping everyone in the basement in cocoons? Would be kind of difficult, since you were in one of them.”

She threw her an accusing look.

“You never told me what that was like, you know?”

Marinette nodded a bit too quickly, chuckling: “Not very comfortable.”

It was lame, but what could she say when she had never seen the inside of one of those capsules?

Alya bought it anyway and held the door open as they entered the classroom. There were some students already sat at their desks, chattering amongst themselves but generally looking in good spirits, the incident seemingly not having left too bad of an impression on them. It made her heart a little lighter.

When her eyes fell on Adrien’s empty seat, worry gnawed at her.

Bless Alya for her quick thinking.

“Hey, don’t make that face. The bell has not rung yet, so he might be running a little late.”

She turned to Nino, who looked up from his phone when they approached they friend. He gave them a smile, surely having heard and deduced what they were talking about. Being Alya’s best friend he had adopted a bit of her enthusiasm for teasing Marinette about her crush but had never betrayed her trust by telling Adrien. For that alone Marinette could never be thankful enough.

“No worries.”, he assured “He hasn’t texted me that he would be absent, so he’ll be here in a short while.”

His hopeful tone made her at ease and with that in mind she sat down, beginning to listen to Alya discussing her ideas for making navigation on the Ladyblog easier and neat.

She was just about to explain how she was struggling with changing the settings for redirecting people to other sites when the door opened and Adrien entered.

Any ounce of happy Marinette had managed to scrap together today evaporated when she looked at him. Yesterday she had thought he appeared downtrodden. Today he had to be beyond miserable.

He had, admittedly, done an amazing job at covering it up. His hair was as impeccable as always but his locks covered a bit more of his face, like a protective curtain to shield his eyes that were slightly bloodshot. His skin looked fresh and healthy but Marinette realized it was all make-up when she caught sight of a slightly darker spot close to his ear, testament that he had not properly smudged it there.

The most telling feature though was the glum air that clung to him. It was not heavy but it was noticeable, very different from his usual composed and content demeanour.

Nino’s and Alya’s expression were as shocked as she felt. Wordlessly, the blond sat himself beside his best friend, brushing off any try at conversation with a simple shake of his head. Something must have happened at home, for he only acted that way when his family was concerned, Marinette knew.

Or was it due to yesterday? He had, after all, spent a great amount of time all alone in a dreary sealed-off room. She would also be shaken by something like that.

She was shaken still.

Her staring had her losing her grip on the pencil she had been doodling with absentmindedly, its clatter loud and clear as it bounced past her desk and towards her crush. Despite her best attempts at catching it, Adrien picked it up right before her nose, the shadow of a smile gracing his lips as he handed it back to her.

“Here you go.”, he said quietly, his voice throaty but smooth, putting the object in her slack palm.

Marinette wished she could have given him a reply but any and all thought-process had stilled.

An electrifying, blue rubber band circled his wrist, mocking her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Liked it? Then you can go to the actual story on AO3!

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #gabriel agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #tikky #plagg #fanfic #AO3 #completed

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