#obligatory: she had snow white hair and glowing red eyes

[ghastlyspriggan]

This is Mag.

Although born into a stronghold, her father isn't the chief. Her mother, one of the chief's many wives, had an affair with a man of vampire royalty. As such, her vampiric half blocks her from inheriting the gifts Malacath blessed her stronghold with (superhuman warrior skills). However, her vampiric royal blood allows her to harness the advanced magical abilities she inherited from her father.

When Mag was born, and her nature laid bare for all to see even as a newborn baby, she and her mother were exiled from the stronghold. Mag's mother raised her as a nomad, too scared to seek shelter from her vampire lover.

Mag wants nothing more than to make her mother proud. She's aware of her half blood status and is ambivalent about it. While she wishes to be a powerful and skilled warrior so she can protect her mother with honor, she finds comfort in the magic that comes so easily to her. She practices and trains herself in its use the best way she can on her own.

Her mother loves her completely and is not repulsed by her vampiric nature, even when Mag needs to feed (she prefers to feed on the animals she hunts but it's like forcing a cat to be vegan; she doesn't get everything she needs from animal blood). Her mother helps her find suitable people to feed from (altmer blood is the most powerful and nutritious blood for her)(spoiler, it's because her father is an altmer).

What Mag's mother is unaware of is that the vampire she had an affair with had genuine feelings for her and has no idea why she fled. He searches for her but is unable to find her.

Eventually, when Mag is a young adult (early 20s) she journeys to find her abandoned father. Her mother had nothing but kind things to say about him and how he treated her when she was growing up and she finally convinced her to tell her where she met him.

It's a very heart wrenching journey and meeting and maybe I'll spare some time to write it in the coming months 🤍

bonus child and teen Mag, a volatile gremlin:

just pretend the chibi mag has pointed ears lolol

[theinnerunderrain]

Knave [Yan! Arlecchino x Gender-neutral! Reader]

Knave: an unprincipled, untrustworthy, or dishonest person.

Warnings: Yandere themes, Arlecchino being downbad, it's a pretty tamed prompt but the end does get a bit darker.

Word count: 1k

Repost

-

Despite holding the title of "Kanve," Arlecchino was by no means a dishonest or unethical woman.

You might even disagree. She came across as more of a rather dignified and respectable woman, ignoring the fact that you've only had a few encounters with her throughout your shifts at the orphanage. Her words are always firm and proper, spoken with the clarity of a commander who has been leading troops on the front lines for many years.

You could even say you privately admired her.

"Good evening [First Name]."

You bow down, baffled to have encountered her given that the majority of the employees have already gone back to their headquarters to retired for the night. She was standing across from you, her white hair appearing to glow despite the hallway's darkness. Her body was clothed in her work uniform, indicating that she had most likely just returned to the orphanage.

"There's no need to bow down here, the orphanage does not need to be obsessed with such a hierarchy of power."

She motioned for you to stand up as she approached you, a soft smile inscribed on her crimson lips. Another fascinating point would be that Arlecchino is constantly the subject of rumours claiming that she was some sort of compulsive lunatic who only knew how to manipulate people. But she never made an effort to constrain you; instead, she simply treated you just like the other employees within the orphanage.

"I do apologize. Despite your earlier warnings, I appear to have forgotten."

"There is no need to apologise for a simple error. Come along and stroll with me."

The woman's worn-out complexion captures your attention as you peek up in surprise. Her skin appears paler than usual, and the creases beneath her eyes implied that she hasn't slept in a while. Although she rarely exhibited it to others, her face retained a significant degree of softness to it. Without being able to put your fingers on it, you may sometimes suspect that the way she looks at you is a little bit different from the way she looks at the state officials who regularly visit the orphanage, ready to offer some sort of sick suggestions to deploy the children off to some life-threatening missions.

"But my lady, I am not a very interesting person. I am afraid that I may bore you."

Indeed, it is true. One would expect you to be fairly gregarious given that you deal with children on a regular basis, yet you hardly ever communicated with your colleagues outside of the obligatory exchanges.

"You are not required to converse with me; simply accompany me as I walk will do."

In her response, the woman held out her gloved hands for you to grasp. You tentatively press your knuckles onto her palm, and she tugs you behind her as she escorts you outside to the courtyard of the orphanage.

The scent of beautiful flowers permeated the air as the two of you strolled around the garden under the moonlight. Even though the walk was relatively calm, you were unsettled by the stillness as you silently peered into the woman's white hair as she marched forward. Sure, you've met several people with bright red hair or hair that was a sombre shade of blue, but you've never come across someone with such white hair.

While her hair was an odd colour, it prompted you to think of the snow that engulfed most of Snezhnaya's land, making it rather cold but you thought it was quite fitting.

She abruptly came to a halt, and you crashed into her, flushing in shame as you rubbed your cheeks at the sudden pain.

"My apologies."

You stammered timidly before realising she had led you to the fountain within the garden. The woman sat down against the marble columns and watched as you cautiously dipped your fingers into the water. Goosebumps emerged on your forearm as a result of the water's coldness.

She suddenly leaned in and grasped your face in her palms while peering into your eyes. The red stripes in her irises appeared to captivate you as they suddenly turned ominous. You had always been curious about the provenance of her eyes since you had first met her, but you lacked the confidence to probe. Those who had ever enquired about her, according to some, invariably appeared to vanish the next morning.

The woman was now only a few inches away from your lips, her icy breaths fanning over them, seemingly contemplating over something.

No, she shouldn't be acting in this manner.

She swiftly dropped your face, and turned away, the coldness of her hands vanished from your skin. You could do nothing but gawk at her in disbelief and mild surprise at what had just unfolded, thoughts racing through your mind.

"I'm ashamed, I must have been out of my mind, for the sudden inappropriate behaviour."

Arlecchino stated, before rising to her feet. Although it wasn't immediately apparent, you could sense that she was nearly humiliated by the subtle red tinting her ears as she turned away.

"The clock is becoming late; hurry back to your chamber."

She didn't make an effort to reprimand you for your involuntary bow, seemingly still mortified of her previous behaviour. You turned around and approached the estate, but not before casting a brief peek back to see that the woman was still seated at the fountain.

Seemingly oblivious of your gaze, her dark eyes remained fixed on you as you entered the manor, escaping back into your chamber.

"That was wrong of me to do," Arlecchino suddenly sighs, her fingers running to push back her white bangs as she leans back against the fountain.

Although it may not be one of her main virtues, patience is essential, and Arlecchino was prepared to wait for you.

Eventually, the time will come. Even if it meant burning down the orphanage with her own hand. Even if it meant betraying the Tsaritsa and massacring everyone else, she'll gladly do it.

Just for you.

Perhaps her title of the 'Knave' did suit her then you originally thought.

[innerunderrain]

Knave [Yan! Arlecchino x Gender-neutral! Reader]

Knave: an unprincipled, untrustworthy, or dishonest person.

Warnings: Yandere themes, Arlecchino being downbad, it's a pretty tamed prompt but the end does get a bit darker.

Word count: 1k

-

Despite holding the title of "Kanve," Arlecchino was by no means a dishonest or unethical woman.

You might even disagree. She came across as more of a rather dignified and respectable woman, ignoring the fact that you've only had a few encounters with her throughout your shifts at the orphanage. Her words are always firm and proper, spoken with the clarity of a commander who has been leading troops on the front lines for many years.

You could even say you privately admired her.

"Good evening [First Name]."

You bow down, baffled to have encountered her given that the majority of the employees have already gone back to their headquarters to retired for the night. She was standing across from you, her white hair appearing to glow despite the hallway's darkness. Her body was clothed in her work uniform, indicating that she had most likely just returned to the orphanage.

"There's no need to bow down here, the orphanage does not need to be obsessed with such a hierarchy of power."

She motioned for you to stand up as she approached you, a soft smile inscribed on her crimson lips. Another fascinating point would be that Arlecchino is constantly the subject of rumours claiming that she was some sort of compulsive lunatic who only knew how to manipulate people. But she never made an effort to constrain you; instead, she simply treated you just like the other employees within the orphanage.

"I do apologize. Despite your earlier warnings, I appear to have forgotten."

"There is no need to apologise for a simple error. Come along and stroll with me."

The woman's worn-out complexion captures your attention as you peek up in surprise. Her skin appears paler than usual, and the creases beneath her eyes implied that she hasn't slept in a while. Although she rarely exhibited it to others, her face retained a significant degree of softness to it. Without being able to put your fingers on it, you may sometimes suspect that the way she looks at you is a little bit different from the way she looks at the state officials who regularly visit the orphanage, ready to offer some sort of sick suggestions to deploy the children off to some life-threatening missions.

"But my lady, I am not a very interesting person. I am afraid that I may bore you."

Indeed, it is true. One would expect you to be fairly gregarious given that you deal with children on a regular basis, yet you hardly ever communicated with your colleagues outside of the obligatory exchanges.

"You are not required to converse with me; simply accompany me as I walk will do."

In her response, the woman held out her gloved hands for you to grasp. You tentatively press your knuckles onto her palm, and she tugs you behind her as she escorts you outside to the courtyard of the orphanage.

The scent of beautiful flowers permeated the air as the two of you strolled around the garden under the moonlight. Even though the walk was relatively calm, you were unsettled by the stillness as you silently peered into the woman's white hair as she marched forward. Sure, you've met several people with bright red hair or hair that was a sombre shade of blue, but you've never come across someone with such white hair.

While her hair was an odd colour, it prompted you to think of the snow that engulfed most of Snezhnaya's land, making it rather cold but you thought it was quite fitting.

She abruptly came to a halt, and you crashed into her, flushing in shame as you rubbed your cheeks at the sudden pain.

"My apologies."

You stammered timidly before realising she had led you to the fountain within the garden. The woman sat down against the marble columns and watched as you cautiously dipped your fingers into the water. Goosebumps emerged on your forearm as a result of the water's coldness.

She suddenly leaned in and grasped your face in her palms while peering into your eyes. The red stripes in her irises appeared to captivate you as they suddenly turned ominous. You had always been curious about the provenance of her eyes since you had first met her, but you lacked the confidence to probe. Those who had ever enquired about her, according to some, invariably appeared to vanish the next morning.

The woman was now only a few inches away from your lips, her icy breaths fanning over them, seemingly contemplating over something.

No, she shouldn't be acting in this manner.

She swiftly dropped your face, and turned away, the coldness of her hands vanished from your skin. You could do nothing but gawk at her in disbelief and mild surprise at what had just unfolded, thoughts racing through your mind.

"I'm ashamed, I must have been out of my mind, for the sudden inappropriate behaviour."

Arlecchino stated, before rising to her feet. Although it wasn't immediately apparent, you could sense that she was nearly humiliated by the subtle red tinting her ears as she turned away.

"The clock is becoming late; hurry back to your chamber."

She didn't make an effort to reprimand you for your involuntary bow, seemingly still mortified of her previous behaviour. You turned around and approached the estate, but not before casting a brief peek back to see that the woman was still seated at the fountain.

Seemingly oblivious of your gaze, her dark eyes remained fixed on you as you entered the manor, escaping back into your chamber.

"That was wrong of me to do," Arlecchino suddenly sighs, her fingers running to push back her white bangs as she leans back against the fountain.

Although it may not be one of her main virtues, patience is essential, and Arlecchino was prepared to wait for you.

Eventually, the time will come. Even if it meant burning down the orphanage with her own hand. Even if it meant betraying the Tsaritsa and massacring everyone else, she'll gladly do it.

Just for you.

Perhaps her title of the 'Knave' did suit her then you originally thought.

[authorlmfletcher]

Merry Christmas @csulliven​ ! I’m your secret santa for @mlsecretsanta​ ^_^ Hope you enjoy it!

Also on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28383465

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

Snow in Paris. How romantic. 

Adrien sighed as he watched the large snowflakes falling softly from his bedroom windows, secretly wishing that he was sitting on a rooftop somewhere with Ladybug. An image of her rosy red cheeks in the cold air, dark hair covered in white as she laughed made him smile. 

“Ready, Plagg? Time for patrol.” 

His kwami grunted noncommittally, tossing back an extra piece of camembert before Adrien called him into the ring. Chat Noir  pushed himself out the window almost before he was fully changed, black suit melting over his body in a familiar and comforting feeling.

From the rooftops, he watched children dancing in the streets with arms outstretched to greet the snow. Strings of lights draped over trees and over buildings, creating a warm and magical glow to the night sky. A few windows showcased trees twinkling with lights. It was perfectly wonderful, and all Chat could feel was empty. 

Christmas always hit him the hardest, the memories of his mother’s smile, joy, and laughter at this time of year flooding his thoughts everywhere he looked. He missed her so much. While usually he could keep the swirl of emotions under control, the holidays pulled them so close to the surface that nothing he tried could tamper them down. At least this year he wouldn’t let himself fall into the same angst-fuelled stomp around Paris from the year before.

Reaching their meeting point, Chat Noir flopped onto the rooftop, sitting with his legs dangling over the edge. He couldn’t help the curl in his back nor the soft frown on his face as he watched a young family walking down the street, each parent holding one hand of their child in the middle, swinging him high into the air as he screeched with joy. 

He missed those days. 

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

Snow in Paris. Crap. 

Marinette’s feet slipped out from underneath her as she stepped out onto her balcony, a soft squeak escaping her lips as she frantically waved her arms to regain her balance. Tikki chuckled softly behind her. Marinette shot her kwami an unamused look. 

“You’ll be fine. Go - Chat will be waiting.” 

A quick set of words transformed Marinette in a brilliant flash of pink, a spotted suit appearing on her skin before she launched herself off her railing to yo-yo over the rooftops to their designated meeting spot. 

Trying not to slip as she landed on their rooftop, she noted the unusually despondent position of Chat’s body. 

“Hey Chat,” she called out. He turned and gave her a muted smile. 

“Hey.” 

That wasn’t her usual exuberant kitty. Deciding that patrol could wait, she plopped herself down beside her partner and gave him a good long stare, trying to telepathically discover what exactly was making him so sad. No answers came to her. 

“What’s wrong, kitty?” 

His hesitation to answer gave away a lot. Civilian issues, she realized. Something that mattered enough that he actually let it bother him when he was in his super suit. That worried her a little. 

“I - “ he shifted his eyes to peek at her, “I’m just finding the Christmas season hard. It’s all bright, and cheerful, and beautiful, but - it’s not like that for me.” 

Ladybug blinked, trying to process. Christmas always made her happy. The colours of the lights. The smells of fresh baked cookies. The snuggles on the couch watching a movie together with her parents. The excitement of homemade gifts. This was her favourite season! But, Chat - obviously it wasn’t the same. 

“Oh,” was all she could think of to say, her brain already slipping into planning mode. Something had to be done. No one should be unhappy at the happiest season of the year! She looked around the view of Paris, pieces of an idea popping into place in a typically Marinette/Ladybug fashion. 

“I have an idea.” 

Chat looked at her startled when she got to her feet. 

“An idea for what?” 

“An idea for you. Come on. Follow me.” And then she was swinging across Paris.  It took longer than she expected to arrive at her destination - a large building built like a square. Landing on the rooftop, she turned to find Chat close behind, a confused look on his face. 

“What are we doing here?” he asked. 

“Look,” she replied. A simple gesture brought his attention to the ice track laid out on the top of the building in a long path. “Transform to ice.” 

He gave her a startled look, shocked as she gulped down one of her power up macrons. Fumbling through his pockets, he followed her lead. 

“What are we doing?” he asked again. She just laughed, grabbing his hand and dragging him onto the ice. 

“Come on. I think you just need some fun.” 

She had to admit that the sheer look of surprise on his face was worth it. It took a few laps around the icy path before his usual boyish grin took over and he started to show off with spins and acrobatic displays. It felt like hours later when they both collapsed onto a bench with tired legs and hearts full of laughter. Ladybug felt thankful that her little plan had worked. She never wanted to see that hollow look on his face ever again. 

“Thank you, Ladybug,” he said softly, dropping his ice transformation with a sigh. “I needed that. Christmas season is just …  hard for me. It makes me think of someone I miss a lot.” Throwing his head back, he stared at the sky a moment before grabbing her hand for his trademarked knuckle kiss. 

“Anyway, thank you for the special evening. I should probably get going - I have a crazy day tomorrow and need to get some sleep.” 

Still on the bench, she watched him vault away. Detransforming, she sat there for longer with Tikki as the little kwami chomped away at a cookie. 

“Oh, Tikki. I wish I knew more about Chat Noir. Who could he miss so much that he gets that sad over the holidays?” 

Tikki simply chewed, not answering. Marinette sighed. “I know. I just wish I could do something to make Christmas special and happy for him instead.” 

It took all of 5 minutes for a massive, crazy, totally insane idea to come together. Changing back to Ladybug, she swung home, brain whirling with plans, knowing there was little chance of sleep for her creative self yet again. 

-----

Hands fussed with his hair. Others pulled at his clothes. Voices barked out orders as people raced around, moving props and backgrounds. The chaos of a photoshoot never got easier. The sooner he could get through these “fake happiness” last minute winter shoots, mostly for social media, the better. The head photographer shouted him in place - telling me which way to stand or sit, what to hold, how to pose, what face to wear. His body and expressions moved on auto-pilot. His thoughts wandered to the memories of the skating he’d done with Ladybug the night before. She understood him in a way that no one else likely ever would - able to read his REAL body expressions. 

“Adrien Agreste, get your head out of the clouds and down here onto the fake snow,” someone snapped, pulling his full attention back to the business at hand. 

The day promised to be one of chaos. Early photoshoot, obligatory fitness workout, rehearsal for a big presentation at an upcoming Christmas charity event, guest appearance on behalf of his father at two different events, another short photoshoot (outdoors - which sounded uncomfortable), followed by an evening at the 2nd or 3rd Christmas gala of the season. Hopefully there would be time to eat somewhere in there. 

Rushing from thing to thing on his schedule, Adrien mused over the busyness. Why did Christmas obligate people to fill their lives with meaningless activities and fake smiles? He would give anything to just sit together with his family and enjoy each other’s company in quietude. 

By the time he arrived home from the gala, dressed to the nines in one of his father’s top-line suits, that hollow feeling had returned. The oversized tree sparkling with lights and silver ornaments screamed how fake this holiday season felt - meaningless, impersonal, and just there because of obligation. 

He was too tired to do much else, stripping down to slip into some comfortable pajamas and tossing an extra chunk of cheese at his kwami. Briefly, he transformed, mostly to check if there were any messages on his baton. 

One unread message. 

“Hey Chat, I have this idea. Can we get together tomorrow? Say…. 10pm? The tower?” 

He typed back a quick message in agreement, mentally sifting through the day’s schedule, then flopped himself onto his bed with muttered words to transform back into his civilian clothes. 

At 9:45pm, Chat Noir burst out of Adrien’s bedroom window and raced over the rooftops. The snow from two days earlier had vanished, leaving things with a slightly damp look. Crisp winter air singed his cheeks, but it felt refreshing after yet another busy day. 

Ladybug stood waiting at their usual Eiffel Tower hangout, a large bag slung over her back. 

“So, what’s up, LB?” he asked, wondering what exactly she hid in a bag that size. 

“Follow me,” she said, jumping away. Whatever hid in the bag rattled as she took off. He hurried to keep up with her as she yo-yoed across the city, landing finally in a small park. She slipped the bag from her back, the rattling (and possible jingle?) sounding out. She unzipped it with deliberate slowness, giving him a grin. 

Inside sat decorations. 

“What are we -” he cut himself off as she laughed, pulling one of the silver spheres from her trove. 

“We’re going to decorate this tree. Together. It’s an important Christmas tradition!” 

Suddenly, he realized that he hadn’t even noticed the large evergreen tree in front of them. He must have frozen long enough with his mouth open in surprise that Ladybug had managed to hang 4 or 5 ornaments before asking if he was going to help. Springing into action, he carefully grabbed a ball and placed it onto the tree. A few ornaments later, he found himself wonderously tangled by tinsel with Ladybug laughing hysterically. He could feel his cat ears drooping as he asked for some help getting loose. 

When the bag was emptied, they stood side by side admiring their work. 

“Perfect.” He had to admit, she was right. They had done a terrific job. And it meant so much more to put together a tree with someone he cared about. Better than the team of professional decorators that Nathalie had hired this year. 

“Tomorrow? Same time? Eiffel Tower?” 

He had no idea what she planned to do, but he nodded, unable to stop the smile that crept onto his face. 

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

Everything was ready. Flour. Ginger. Molasses. Sugar. Marinette looked around the bakery kitchen with the feeling that she’d forgotten *something* but time to meet Chat crept closer. Maman and Papa had been more than generous when she had asked to use the kitchen for a  couple of nights. 

“As long as you don’t touch any of the morning’s baking,” her mother had answered, not needing any other explanation. 

“Time to go!” chirped Tikki, wide blue eyes twinkling. “I think he’s going to love this one.” 

“I know he will.” Taking one last glance at everything laid out, Marinette transformed and raced to find her partner waiting with anticipation at the tower. 

“Follow me.” 

She led him back to the bakery with an elaborate explanation of how the owners had graciously let her use their kitchen. From there, Ladybug spent the night helping Chat discover the joys of making a gingerbread house from scratch. Much laughter ensued as flour ended up on faces, ginger sent Chat into sneeze fits, and Ladybug discovered her partner’s lack of skills in a kitchen. By the end of their adventure that stretched early into the morning hours, they had a pair of iced together houses, one more askew than the other. 

“Go sleep now, Kitty. We’ll decorate them tomorrow night.” The excited twinkle in his eyes before he escaped made her smile when she finally crashed onto her bed for a few hours of sleep. 

The next night consisted of a sugar-fuelled cat boy, happily slapping candies and decorations to his somewhat lopsided gingerbread house. The next, she set up a laptop with a Christmas video on a nearby rooftop with some thick blankets and a thermos of peppermint tea. An afternoon visit to a local library ended up with them sitting in the middle of the children’s section with kids climbing all over them as the librarian read The Grinch and other kids acted it out. 

A midnight excursion wandering through Paris, taking in all the amazing light displays led to another spent window shopping well after most Parisians were sleeping. He hadn’t ever really just looked at window displays for their artistic value before. 

The following night, all plans were thwarted by the Giftster - an akuma who wrapped everyone up in paper and  bows out of spite over a poorly wrapped gift. It took longer than she hoped to defeat the villain,leaving her a little sad that her plan for the night was ruined - the hot chocolate bar she’d put together cold and the whipped cream melted to liquid by the time they arrived. 

“It’s still purr-fect, Ladybug. I don’t mind at all. It’s the people we’re with that make the holidays special, not the temperature of the drink.” He poured himself a large mug of cocoa and piled the top full of marshmallows, syrup, and sprinkles.”Delicious.” 

---

Adrien’s view of Christmas shifted. The anticipation of Ladybug’s holiday shenanigans brought him more excitement than he had felt for the holidays in a long while. Nothing would ever replace the hole left by his mother’s disappearance, but at least this made him feel hopeful again instead of melancholy. With less than a week left to Christmas, he sat in his class for the last day before the two week break. Marinette lay flopped on her desk, possibly asleep, as Nino and Alya argued the merits of their gift wish lists. 

“What about you, Agreste?” Alya snapped, poking Marinette awake with her elbow. “What are you doing this Christmas? Any big plans?” 

He shrugged. “Not really.” 

“No running off and sending your dad into Christmas Godzilla mode this year, ok?” Nino quipped. Adrien felt himself flush. 

“I won’t,” he murmured. “Listen - last year was hard. The first Christmas without my mom, ok? She loved Christmas and it just feels … I don’t know. Christmas season is just …  hard for me. I miss her so much.” 

Realizing that he was killing their fun conversation, he decided to turn himself around.  “But don’t worry! No running off this year. I promise. I’ve actually had a friend from work making sure that Christmas is awesome. We’ve gone ice skating, watched a really fun holiday movie, and we even made these gingerbread houses - from scratch! Even Mother didn’t do that!”  

He told them all about the adventures that he’d been having and how special they’d made the holidays become, carefully avoiding any mention of their superhero selves. The more he rambled on about the activities he had been doing late in the nights with Ladybug, the more Marinette’s eyes grew wide. He stopped talking when she let out a strangled sound. 

“Are you ok, Marinette?” 

She sat frozen, statue-like for a long moment, staring blankly at him. Suddenly she jumped with a yelp, clutching at her side. 

“Oh, yep. Yep. Totally good. I’m totally fine. Everything’s fine.” She let out a wild and panicky laugh, blinking rapidly. “I’m good. Are you good? Everyone’s good, right? Ok. I’m just - I’m just - Ms. Bustier? May I be excused to use the bathroom?” 

And then she bolted, racing out of the classroom in a gangly, flailing pile of limbs. The whole classroom paused in their conversations for a quiet moment as they stared at the door, then with a universal shrug, returned to what they were doing. 

“That was weird,” muttered Alya, frowning. “Even for Marinette.” 

-----------

“Just breathe, Marinette. Breathe. In. Out. Innnnnnnn. Ouuuuuuuuuuut. Innnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn. Out.” 

From the bathroom stall she hid in, Marinette could hear and see her kwami giving anti-panic attack advice, a blurry red dot floating in front of her face, but she couldn’t process the words being said. Adrien Agreste. Chat Noir. Adrien Agreste? Chat Noir. Nope. It just had to be a coincidence that Adrien’s “friend from work” had taken him on all the same adventures that Ladybug had put together for Chat Noir. Totally a coincidence that Chat missed someone special while Adrien missed his mother. Just coincidence. 

Oh crap. 

Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste. ADRIEN AGRESTE WAS CHAT NOIR. 

She threw up in the toilet. 

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

Chat couldn’t quite put his finger on what was different that night as they listened from the rooftops to a group of carollers in one of the parks. Ladybug sat a little farther away than she usually did. She didn’t roll her eyes at his jokes or speak much at all. In fact, she didn’t even look him in the eyes. 

“Everything ok?” he asked finally, unable to stand the awkwardness any longer. Her head snapped at that, eyes connecting with his for the first time in the night. 

“Oh. Yes, sorry. I just found out something about a friend today and it’s been hard to work through, that’s all.” She smiled, but it wasn’t a real smile - her eyes skittering away from him. He frowned. 

“Want to talk about it? In generalized terms, I mean.”

She shook her head. 

“No. I’d rather just listen to the music, ok?” 

“Ok.”

The next evening, with only 2 days left to go before the big holiday arrived, Chat found himself at a local food bank, handing out meals to families whose faces shone with so much gratitude that it made him feel embarrassed to live as he did. Ladybug still seemed preoccupied. He smiled at her every time she tried to stealthily look at him, wondering exactly what was going on behind those brilliant blue eyes. 

At the end of their volunteer time, they escaped to the rooftops. 

“Are we doing anything special tomorrow?” he asked, wondering if the magical sense of Christmas had worn off for her. “It IS Christmas Eve after all.” 

She gave him a look he couldn’t quite define. 

“Are you ok, LB? You’ve been really … off for the last day or so.” 

He watched as she opened and closed her mouth like a fish for a moment before snapping it shut. She visibly straightened her back. 

“It’s nothing big, I promise, but yes - let’s meet at the tower tomorrow?” When he nodded, she flashed him an almost real smile before swinging off into the distance. 

Plagg had no ideas, simply focusing on his cheese and musing over whether Adrien had any stocking fillers planned. The kwami tapped suggestively at the pictures in his Gentleman’s Camembert magazine. 

Adrien gave up, hoping that whatever bothered Ladybug would be resolved by the time they got together tomorrow. 

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

Christmas Eve dawned bright and crisp, the cold smell of winter on the air. Marinette did not want to get out of the coziness that her oversized comforter provided. If it hadn’t been for the wail of her akuma alert alarm forcing her to drag herself out of bed, she might not have for the whole day. 

The realization that Adrien Agreste - face of perfection and heart of gold - and Chat Noir - jokester and  impulsive rogue were the same person had left her rattled. Marinette had needed a few days to process it all, but she was slowly coming to terms with how much it meant to her to discover the boy she deeply cared for was also her best friend. 

She swung across the city to find a Grinch-like akuma, green from head to toe with a red hat and coat. With a single touch, the lights and decorations found on the streets of Paris simply vanished. Anyone found in his path transformed into lumps of coal. 

“I think he has the wrong city. This isn’t Whoville.” Chat voice chirped happily - sickeningly so, given the early hour of the morning. “Good morning, milady.” 

“Morning, kitty.” With a yawn, she searched the akuma for clues where to find their target. “I’m guessing it’s the Santa hat. But we have to keep out of range of his hands. Turning to coal sounds like a terrible way to spend Christmas.” 

With a nod, he stood up and extended his baton with a grin. “40 feet.” Then he launched himself off the rooftops to place himself securely in the path of the opponent. 

“Hey, is that your resting Grinch face?” he taunted, starting his usual distraction methods. She watched for the briefest of moments as the akuma threw itself at her partner with a growl. If she could just sneak in behind while it was distracted, she could probably pull the hat from his head. 

Things never are that easy when fighting akumas. Realizing that a second superhero attempted to stealth attack him, the Grinch whirled around, knocking her to the ground mid-pendulum arch. She hit the ground with a roll, dodging away from the outstretched hand. Chat responded with a careful leap, vaulting himself towards the villain and narrowly missing the hat. Acrobatic flips moved him back out of the way of danger. 

A few cheesy puns about the Grinch and being green later, Chat still somehow managed to keep most of the attention on himself while Ladybug attempted another grab for the hat. Failing, the Grinch growled, grabbing onto Chat’s baton and flinging the cat boy into the air. Ladybug watched in horror as her partner landed right in the akuma’s grip, wide-eyed and legs kicking.

Mere seconds felt like hours, a black heaviness overcoming Chat from his toes to his face. She screamed his name, panic clawing at her heart. No. No! Her yo-yo whirred with renewed vigour, calling her Lucky Charm. Into her hands dropped a carefully wrapped, red-polka dotted present with a tag reading “For the Grinch.” 

A plan clicked into place. 

“Oh, Mr. Grinch. I have something for you.” The akuma dropped the lifeless stone figure of Chat Noir to the pavement with a loud thud, turning its attention instead to her. She thrust the present at him with a smile, which made him stop and cock his head sideways with a frown. If she hadn’t been so focused on where the hands of her opponent were in that moment, she would have started singing. After all, music won the day in the story of the Grinch - hadn’t it? 

“Merry Christmas.” 

Cautiously, the akuma accepted the gift, settling down on the pavement beside Chat’s coal statue to rip open the paper and see what his gift was. The moment the lid popped free, a brilliant flash of light went off, blinding the akuma long enough for Ladybug to grab the hat and tear it apart. Away fluttered the butterfly, captured a moment later in her yo-yo with a snap. Bubbles enveloped the akumatized victim. In its place sat a confused man. 

Grabbing the remaining pieces of the gift box, Ladybug threw it up into the air with a shout, releasing the Miraculous butterflies. They swirled around everything. Lights and decorations reappeared. People changed back from coal to themselves. She watched with relief as Chat emerged from his own coal statue, throwing her arms around his neck. 

“Whoa!” he yelped, arms wrapping around her to prevent himself from falling backwards onto the pavement. 

“Stupid cat,” she murmured, prying herself free to pay attention to the man on the ground nearby. Helping him to his feet, she found herself giving Chat the chance to interact with the victim - watching in silence as her partner graciously reassured the man that everything was okay now and Christmas hadn’t been ruined. 

With a wave, they escaped to the rooftops. 

“So,” drawled Chat, giving her the most curious of looks. “I have a question for you. Why did you shout ‘Adrien’ when I turned to coal?” 

Certain that her heart stopped, Ladybug froze. She hadn’t. Had she? She blinked at him, wondering exactly what to say, brain scrambling for words. 

“Why would I call you Adrien? That’s just silly. You aren’t Adrien - you’re Chat Noir. Completely different people. You must have heard wrong. I’m sure I shouted for you, silly cat. Chat Noir. Not Adrien.” Realizing that she rambled stupidly, she snapped her mouth shut and waited. 

He narrowed his eyes at her, the gaze heavy and searching before he laughed. “Of course. I must have been mistaken. See you tonight then, LB?” 

She nodded and he saluted before running off. Breathing a sigh of relief, she headed home, hoping to get a little more sleep before the busy part of the day before Christmas required her attention. 

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“She knows, Plagg. I don’t know how, but she knows who I am.” Adrien lay flat on his bed, arms thrown wide, eyes staring at the ceiling. “Is that why she’s been acting strange lately? Maybe she figured out who I am and doesn’t like that it’s me!” 

A million ideas and thoughts raced through his mind, distracting him through the day’s schedules. Appearances here, appearances there. Fake smiles and poses for media cameras. No family time like all his friends. His Instagram feed showcased Nino and his brother working on making cookies, Alya’s family sitting around in their PJs playing board games, Marinette hard at work in the bakery with her parents. Sitting in the back of the car that drove him everywhere, Adrien felt that emptiness that always seeped in around Christmas. Alone, isolated, and now - Ladybug knew who he was to the point of not being able to look him in the eye. Christmas sucked. 

When their designated meetup time approached, he dutifully transformed into Chat Noir, stuffing the gift he’d put chosen for her into one of his pockets. Hopefully she would at least like that. 

Ladybug stood on their favourite platform of the Eiffel Tower, pacing back and forth with wild arm gestures. She must have really been deep in thought since she didn’t even hear him land on the metal railing. 

“Merry Christmas!” he called out, making her jump in surprise, hand clutched to her heart and blue eyes popped open wide in a strangely familiar and out-of-place motion. 

“Oh, Chat. You scared me.” He chuckled. “Merry Christmas.” 

“So, what’s on the plans for tonight’s Christmas adventure?” he asked. “Anything exciting?” 

She blinked twice, staring at him for longer than should feel comfortable. 

“Oh. Right. I thought I’d give you a special gift. It’s a tradition that my family has to open one gift each on Christmas Eve, so I thought it would be fun to do that with you.” 

It would be fun, he thought. As long as she still liked him. 

“Can I go first?” he asked, pulling the small package from his pocket and thrusting it at her. “It’s not much, but it seemed to scream like the gift you needed.” 

Inside held two small pins. The first - a tiny ladybug with closed wings, the other - a small white circle with a set of black cat ears and green eyes peeking up from the bottom. She laughed, telling him that his gift was wonderful and that she’d find the perfect place for them. 

She took a deep breath before she passed him a gift bag. 

“For you.” 

Carefully, he pulled out the tissue paper and unwrapped something soft. Into his hand fell a palm-sized hand-stitched doll of himself - Chat Noir. Digging into the bag more, he found a matching Ladybug. Something nagged in the back of his mind that he’d seen dolls like these before - back when Manon had been akumatized. Marinette had made dolls that Manon wanted to play with. He flipped them over to admire the neat stitching work and attention to detail.

“These are adorable. Thank you so much. Did you get these from Marinette Dupain-Cheng? I think she had some similar to these.” 

She made a funny sound before answering. “Kind of? I made them for you.” 

She had made them? He frowned in confusion. 

Ladybug stepped forward, pulling the dolls gently out of his hands and putting them back in the bag before putting it on the ground. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and moved so that she was achingly close. 

“Tikki. Spots off.” 

He didn’t have time to close his eyes, other than to wince slightly at the bright and unexpected flash of pink light as Ladybug’s transformation dropped. In her place stood Marinette herself, a heavy black cat-ear hoodie pulled up over her head. An homage to himself, he realized. Two heartbeats later, she raised herself up on her tiptoes, hands clutching at his arms, warm lips pressing against his. 

She stepped back before he could even react, whispering “Merry Christmas, my kitty - Adrien Agreste.” 

He stared into her bluebell eyes, the pieces of the puzzle in his life clicking together in the most wonderful of ways. She did know. And she kissed him. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had turned a season full of disappointment and missing his mother into something full of memories and wonder. She had turned it into the best Christmas he had ever had. 

“Thank you, milady Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Merry Christmas to you, too.” 

As he dared to pull her close and kiss her for real, he realized that snowflakes were falling gently on Paris. How romantic.