#that is not my basis for picking him to be chat noir | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starshine583 · 3 years ago

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New Girl on the Block (19)

(Hey, everyone!!! Thank you so much for your patience while I was away. It’s good to be back! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!)

Ch. 1 / Ch. 18 / Ch. 20 (ao3)

Chapter 19: A Date with Misery

“Marinette, you are.. an incredible person.”

“You don’t need anyone to validate how amazing you are.”

“You are talented, kind, and capable all on your own.”

Felix’s words from the night before played over in Marinette’s mind again and again, an endless loop that she found herself incapable of escaping, and with each echo, her heart seemed to melt further than she thought possible. The comments were simply too honey-sweet, too sincere. She couldn’t help reveling in them. How long had he thought of her that way? How long had he placed her on such a high pedestal that she wasn’t aware of? Marinette knew that Felix had a tendency to make unexpected comments every now and then, but last night truly caught her off guard.. and perhaps made her just a tad bit love-stricken. Had he always spoken to her in that soft manner, the one that made her believe she could be the very stars in his night sky? Had he always possessed the ability to send her heart fluttering the way it did last night, when he allowed her to pull him onto the dance floor and hold him incredibly close? She had no way of knowing, and certainly not enough nerve to ask aloud. But, oh, how her mind ran rampant with fantasies anyway. Will she ever be able to dance with him like that again? Would he look at her the same way he had then, with eyes that felt soft as a cloud in the moment? Did he go home last night and think about her too, endlessly turning on his bed and glancing at his diary- if he kept one, that is -and thinking maybe just one more entry-

“Marinette?”

Marinette jumped, nearly falling off of the ladder that she’d been balancing on, and felt a blush explode across her cheeks.

“Nothing! What? I mean-” She flailed her arms a bit to regain balance, then peeked down at the person below, the very boy she’d been fantasizing about “-Did you need something?”

Felix stood at the base of the ladder, his brows furrowed slightly. “..No. I just wanted to know if there was something wrong with your heart.”

Marinette sputtered, her blush deepening considerably. She couldn’t have been that obvious, right? What expression was she making before he came over?

“M-My heart?” She asked- or rather, squeaked.

Felix pointed to a stream of hearts on the wall, the ones she was supposed to be taking down. “You were staring at one of the hearts for quite a while. Is it ripped?”

“Oh.” She said, staring blankly at the wall. The paper hearts. He meant the paper hearts hanging next to her. Not her heart specifically. That made a lot more sense. “No, sorry. The hearts are fine. I was just, uh.. you know.. reminiscing. We had a lot of fun times with these decorations.”

“Ah,” Felix tilted his head up in a slight nod, “my apologies for interrupting you then.”

“Oh, you didn’t.” Marinette assured hastily. “It really wasn’t anything important.”

Definitely wasn’t anything important..

She plucked out the pin that held the hearts and started down the ladder to move to the other end of the stream. Felix offered a hand to help her down in the process, and she took it, strongly ignoring the tingling sensation that came from doing so.

“If you’d like to keep one as a memorial, I’m sure Allegra wouldn’t mind.” He remarked. “I doubt she’s going to keep any of these things herself after all the parties they’ve had.”

Marinette hummed. Keeping a heart streamer as a memorial, huh? That didn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Thanks. I just might do that.”

Felix gave her the tiniest of smiles, the kind Marinette was used to catching at this point, and slipped his hand out of hers when her feet hit the ground. She clasped her hands together afterwards to compensate, also ignoring the fact that it might have been nice for him to hold her hand just a tad bit longer.

“Would you like help moving the ladder?” He asked, to which she shook her head.

“I’ve got it, but if you could move the box over to the other round table while I move the ladder, I would be grateful.”

Allegra had given her an empty box to put the decorations in as she took them off of the wall. So far, Marinette had exactly.. zero decorations in the box. Gosh, how long had she been staring at that heart? Was she going insane? Why would she even be thinking about Felix this way? He’d just told her last night that he wasn’t interested in romance. Falling for him would be guaranteed heartbreak! It would be completely ridiculous! It would.. It would..

It would probably be inevitable.

Felix was just too sweet to her, too kind. He was always looking out for her and supporting her, always sharing his quiet laughs and amused smiles, and he said too many things that made her head spin for her not to start liking him. There was just no escape! It was going to happen eventually. The only question now was when.

And maybe today was her answer.

Stop it. Marinette scolded herself as she picked up the ladder to walk it over. It’s just some butterflies in your stomach. How many of those did you digest around Adrien?

Marinette froze midstep, an immense sense of horror washing over her. Oh, gosh, this wasn’t going to be another Adrien situation, was it? It couldn’t be. She refused to go through that again. At least not this soon.

Marinette continued walking, if only to avoid Felix’s suspicions, and set up the ladder under the next pin that was holding up her stream.

When you think about it, this really can’t be another Adrien situation, right? With Adrien, she had no idea whether he liked her or not, but was hopeful despite that and used her friends in an effort to gain his attention. With Felix, she already had her answer. She knew for a fact that he didn’t like her romantically, that he wouldn’t ever like her romantically, and she also hadn’t asked any of her new friends to help her gain Felix’s attention. (Though, in all honesty, she probably wouldn’t need help even if she was looking for his attention, because he already gave it to her willingly on a constant basis, but that thought didn’t exactly help her cause.)

“Is here alright?” Felix asked as he set the box on the end of the round table.

Marinette nodded, scaling the ladder to pluck the next pin. “Yep. That’s great, thank you.”

“Of course. If you need anything else, I’ll be wrapping the candles and putting them in boxes.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, pulling a smile.

No, this wasn’t going to be anything like her crush on Adrien. This time she at least had closure before she began, and although it might be just as heart-shattering in the long run, she won’t be wasting her time wondering “what if” or tripping over herself to become his dream girl in an effort to be ‘chosen’. She’ll simply be his friend, as he’s been to her, and if she’s lucky, this sort-of-tiny-little crush of hers will wither away before it grows into a bigger problem.

After all, it’s like Felix said: She’ll find someone new who appreciates her eventually. It just.. won’t be him. The sooner she took this lesson to heart, the better.

Marinette plucked the next pin out of the wall, watching the stream of hearts fall into the box below, and started back down the ladder again. That’s one down. Five to go.

She paused at the bottom of the ladder, ready to pull it together so she could pick it up and move it again, when her phone started buzzing in her pocket. She quickly shimmied it out to check what the buzzing was for, only to be met with the flashing words “Adrien Agreste - Café”.

It was her alarm clock telling her that it was time to go meet Adrien for lunch. And it couldn’t have picked a worse time. She still had five other heart streamers to take down, and at this rate she was going to have to run half way across town just to make it on time. Ugh- why didn’t she set her alarm clock earlier?

“Hey, guys?” She called out to the group, tucking her phone back into her pocket. “I hate to say it, but I actually need to get going. I’m sorry I couldn’t help out more.”

If she hadn’t stopped every two seconds to daydream about somebody-

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” Allegra called back with a smile. “You’ve helped out plenty.”

“Yeah,” Claude agreed. “This was our party anyway.”

“I know, but I only managed to get one of the streamers down.” Marinette sighed.

“But you also helped fold all of the tablecloths and put them away.” Allan reminded her.

“And you swept the room after the trash was taken care of.” Allegra added.

“Go have fun at your appointment thing or whatever. We’ve got everything covered here.” Claude assured, emptying the water from another flower vase.

Marinette smiled as she grabbed her purse from one of the round tables. Her friends were so great, each and every one of them.

“I’ll see you guys later then.”

“See ya!”

“Bye, Mari!”

“Do you want me to call my driver for you?” Felix asked, briefly setting his candles aside. “It’s quite a walk from here to your house, isn’t it?”

“Thanks, but I’m good. I can have Maman and Papa come to pick me up if I start running late.” Or she can transform into Ladybug and swing right over to Adrien herself, which was exactly what she planned on doing. “I’ll text you guys when I get there, though.”

That seemed to satisfy Felix, because he nodded and continued placing his candles in the box. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you then.”

Marinette pursed her lips and spun towards the door, hoping he didn’t notice the fresh blush that was creeping across her cheeks. Gosh, how was she ever going to survive this boy? Maybe Adrien’s presence will give her a good slap in the face and bring her back to her senses.. She highly doubted it though. With her track record, she’ll probably end up falling for Adrien again too, and then she’ll be stuck between two unrequited crushes! Great!

..Why does she always have to fall for the people who don’t love her back?

~~~~~~~

Wind rushed past Chat Noir’s face as he raced across the rooftops, his grin stretching wide from ear to ear. Today was the day! It was finally the fifteenth! In just a few short blocks, he was going to meet Marinette at their agreed café, and they were going to have a whole lunch together just to themselves! It made him buzz with excitement at the very thought, because finally his plans were progressing. Finally he was gonna have a long, drawn out chat with Marinette as Adrien, and perhaps, if he had gained even the slightest bit of luck from his partner, he would be able to convince her to transfer back to Dupont. Or at least have her consider it. She probably shouldn’t come back right this second.

Chat Noir landed on a rooftop and slid down the tiles with glee, but before he could leap to the next rooftop, a red and black-spotted figure flew out in front of him. He stumbled back with a yelp, staring at the person with wide eyes as they sailed onto the rooftop across from him. Was that..?

“My Lady?” He called out, pushing himself back onto his feet. What was she doing out at this time of day? It wasn’t like her to be out and about during daylight when no akumas were present.

Unless there is an akuma. Chat realized with horror. He glanced around the city, looking for explosions or destruction of some kind. Please, let there not be an akuma. That would mean he’d have to skip out on his lunch with Marinette! And he’d worked so hard just to get her there!

The spotted figure turned around- proving that it was, in fact, his wonderful Ladybug -and flashed him her signature, Lady-Luck smile. “Oh, Chat Noir! I didn’t realize you would be out today.”

Chat Noir returned her smile and hopped over to her rooftop. “I could say the same to you, Bugaboo. Is an akuma on the loose again?”

“No, not that I’m aware of.” She assured, to his relief. “I just had some free time and thought I would do a small patrol around the city to make sure everything’s still in order.”

Chat Noir chuckled. That’s His Lady for you. Never ceasing to protect Paris. Could she ever become more amazing?

“Sounds like a great idea. I’d be tempted to join you, but I’m actually on my way home already. I’ve been out for a while.” He said, though none of it was true. He hadn’t been out for a while, and he certainly wasn’t running home, but Ladybug was extremely strict on the ‘keeping identities a secret’ policy. If he let something about his civilian life slip- like, say, meeting someone at a cafe about five minutes from now to talk about school transfers -she’d get upset and scold him for divulging too much information. It wasn’t fun lying to the person he was supposed to trust the most, but this was the set up that they’d decided to use.

“That’s alright. I wasn’t planning on staying out long anyway.” Ladybug replied. “I’ll see you during our next patrol?”

“Or attack.” Chat Noir agreed, giving her a little wink before he took off again. This time he turned to the left of the café, moving in a direction that was somewhat opposite of it. He didn’t want Ladybug seeing where he was going- again, secret identities -but, he also didn’t want to stray too far from his and Marinette’s meeting place, or else he was going to be late. So, he figured he could find a comfortable alleyway about a block or two away from his destination and simply run the rest of the way on foot.

Thank goodness he did, because as soon as he turned left, Ladybug swung off in the exact direction he’d originally been heading. Can you imagine if they’d started going the same way? The explanation for that one would have been awful, he’s sure.

Chat Noir dropped down into an alleyway a few minutes later, just as planned, and detransformed back into Adrien. Running around Paris in his civilian form probably wasn’t going to be any easier than jumping rooftops, but at least he didn’t run into any problems with His Lady. That was a plus, right?

“Ugh,” Plagg groaned as he swirled back into the air, “remind me again why we had to waste my precious energy on a lunch date?”

“Come on, Plagg, you know I hate having Gorilla hover over my shoulder.” Adrien said, offering his kwami a slice of cheese. Gorilla does his best to give Adrien as much space as possible, but still, when you know someone is there specifically to watch you.. “Besides, it’ll give Marinette and I more privacy while we talk.”

Plagg gave a dismissive sigh as he snatched the cheese from Adrien’s hands. “Oh, that’s right. We’re still on pigtails.. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with her. It’s not like she died or anything.”

Adrien frowned. “I’m not obsessed. I’m just trying to be a good friend. She’s always been there for all of us. So why shouldn’t I be there for her?”

“Mm.. Does this really count as being there for her, though?” Plagg asked as he shoved the first half of the cheese into his mouth.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re trying to be there for her by bringing her back to Dupont, right? Well, she seems perfectly happy at her new school to me. So why not leave her be? If you want to be there for her, don’t you think you should be supporting her decisions?”

A bit of guilt festered in Adrien’s chest, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I.. get what you’re saying, but I want her back too. I want to hang out again and talk like we used to.”

“You’re about to talk with her right now.”

“You know what I mean. I want to talk with her daily, like we do at school.”

“Then, why don’t you transfer schools?”

Adrien let out a small chuckle. “And leave Nino? I couldn’t do that to him.”

“Okay~, but don’t say I didn’t warn you if things don’t work out the way you want them to.” Plagg said. He then shoved the rest of the cheese into his mouth and zipped into Adrien’s shirt pocket.

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows, but didn’t reply, instead starting for the cafe. Why would Plagg say something like that? Of course everything was going to work out! Yes, Marinette was happy at her new school, and yes, getting her to come back to Dupont might be a tad tricky (especially since he had to deal with Lila first) but that didn’t mean his plan was going to fail. He simply needed to remind Marinette that she loved being at Dupont too! More so than Rosemary even! It’ll be alright. Plagg will see.

With little time to spare, Adrien booked it to the café, careful to keep his head down and not catch the eyes of the media. Thankfully, he made it there in one piece, albeit five minutes late. It should be fine, though. If anyone were to understand missing the mark for an appointment, it would be her, right?

Adrien slipped his phone out of his pocket as he walked inside to check for any new messages from the ravenette, then silenced it when he saw that there were none. He didn’t want this precious time to be interrupted.

The bell on the café door jingled above him when he entered, reminding him of a certain bakery. He glanced around the room for Marinette hopefully, then lit up when he caught sight of a pair of ravenette pigtails at a table in the middle of the room. Yes! She was here!

Adrien wasted no time strolling over the table, tapping the top of her head to get her attention. She jumped- as she usually does -and whirled around with wide eyes.

“Hey, Marinette.” He greeted with a smile.

“Adrien!” She said, letting out a nervous laugh. “Y-You’re here.”

“Yeah!” He chirped, slipping into the seat across from her. “Sorry I’m late. I ran into a bit of traffic on the way here. How have you been? Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?”

Marinette settled back into her chair as well, pulling a small, tight smile. “It’s alright.. I’ve been pretty good, and my Valentine’s Day was wonderful. How was yours?”

“Oh, you know,” Adrien shrugged, “same as always. I got some cards from a few fans and did a special photoshoot for my father, but that was about it. I tried to go see Nino or something, but he was with Alya, so..”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I wish it could have worked out better.”

“No, it’s fine.” He quickly assured. “I’m used to it. Besides, Nino and I have actually been hanging out a lot more during the winter break.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, “That’s good then. You deserve the free time.”

Adrien smiled. What a very ‘Marinette’ thing to say. “Thanks. Have you ordered anything yet?”

She shook her head. “No, I figured I’d wait for you.”

“Then let’s go get some food.” He said, standing from the table again. “I’m starving.”

Marinette stood with him, and they made their way over to the line that led to the service counter. It wasn’t long, thankfully, only holding about three people or so. They should be back at the table in no time.

“So, are you enjoying your new school life? I heard you transferred to Rosemary.”

“Yeah, I’ve been having a great time,” Marinette said, a bit too cheerful for Adrien’s liking, “but I do have a question. How did you know I transferred to Rosemary?”

“Oh, uh..”

Would she accept ‘my good friend Chat Noir’ as a proper answer?

“..Mlle Bustier. She announced to the class that you had transferred, and when I asked about it afterwards, she told me that you went to Rosemary.”

A hum came from Marinette, the corner of her lips tugging downwards. Why was she frowning? Did he say something wrong?

“Is that a problem?” He asked.

“Oh! No.” Marinette replied hastily. “Well.. sort of. I’m just worried that if she told you, then she’d be willing to tell other people.. Like Lila or Alya.”

Ah.. She made a good point. Her whereabouts could be spread around easily if Mlle Bustier was being loose-lipped. Although he doubted that Lila would come after Marinette since she’s not trying to out her anymore, Adrien wouldn’t put it past the girl entirely, especially since she was still spreading rumors about Marinette on a regular basis..

Granted, this only mattered if Mlle Bustier actually told him where Marinette went to school, which she didn’t. So they should be perfectly safe for the time being.

“I’m sure everything will be fine.” He insisted. “I was the only one that asked, anyway, and I made sure we were alone.”

Marinette nodded, but she didn’t look any less unsettled. “You’re sure you were the only one that asked?”

“Positive.”

“.. Okay.” She muttered, fiddling with the tip of her black jacket. Oh, she was getting anxious now! He needed to fix this. Change the subject!

“Anyway, you said your new school was great?” He asked as he stepped forward in line. “That’s good to hear. Have you made any friends there yet?”

Of course, he already knew that she’d made new friends- several, in fact -but hopefully talking about them would help her relax. Plus, it would give him more information on her new environment. So it’s a double bonus.

Marinette took the bait, her hands quickly falling back to her side as she said, “I have. I was fortunate enough to run into a whole group of friends on my first day, and they took me in without hesitation, which was sweet. They even gave me a tour of the school and everything.”

Adrien plastered a tight smile onto his face in an effort to show support. She already had an entire group of new friends? That was gonna be hard to pull her away from.

“Wow, they sound really nice. You’ll have to introduce me to them sometime.”

“Maybe I can,” Marinette agreed, “but it probably won’t be for a while. We all have schedules and things that we’d need to work out, and I’ve been working on this fashion project lately that I was hoping to get done by the end of next week.”

“No worries. I definitely understand having a busy schedule.” Adrien joked, stepping forward in the line again. “Dupont’s been a little crazy since you left too. We had to pick a new vice president and everything.”

“Yeah, I heard. Lila had to come by and grab the books.” Marinette said bitterly.

Adrien winced. “Really? What did she say?”

“Gosh, I don’t even remember anymore.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “I try not to worry over stupid people. I’m sure she just rubbed her ‘victory’ towards me leaving in my face.”

Adrien chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I bet.. Lila aside, though, we all miss you. Dupont isn’t the same without you here.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him as they took another step forward in line. “You all miss me?”

Adrien frowned, partly because she doubted him, but mostly because he knew her skepticism was justified. They didn’t all miss her. Some- if not everyone besides himself -seemed to be happy that she was gone. It was a true tragedy.

“Well.. I miss you.” He said, his heart dropping further when she gave a satisfied nod. She’s already accepted the tragedy as fact, something unchanging, but he was going to work to make things different.

“Can I take your order?” The cashier cut in, grabbing the pair’s attention.

Adrien and Marinette gave the cashier their order and walked back to their table to wait for their names being called.

“So..” Adrien trailed off as they took their seats. “Do.. you miss us?”

He knew it was a risky question, especially since she’d firmly told Chat Noir a month prior that she did not, in fact, miss Dupont, but maybe her opinion had changed since then?

Marinette shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. “I.. I’m not sure how to answer that, Adrien. How can I say that I miss the people who treated me like a monster for no other reason than the fact that I decided to stand up against a liar? I get that Lila twisted their views, and that everyone has their own version of a story, but it still hurt for them not to believe me even though most of us have known each other since childhood.”

“Do I miss the fun times and the people they used to be before Lila came along? Sure I do, but they’re not the people they used to be. They’re not the friends I grew up with anymore, and I’m not going to regret leaving a situation that wasn’t good for me.”

Adrien sighed. “Alright.. That’s a fair answer.. But what if they did come back? I mean- like - What if they realized that Lila was lying and came back and apologized and everything went back to normal. Would you come back?”

Marinette frowned. “.. I don’t know. What you’re suggesting is extremely far-fetched, and even if everything did go back to ‘normal’, it still wouldn’t quite be the same. They abandoned me for a foreigner. You can’t really come back from that. Plus, I think Rosemary is a great opportunity for me. It’s a prestigious school with extensive classes on the fashion industry and many other things, and although there can be some snooty, rich students, most of the people I’ve met there are really nice.”

Adrien hummed. Her answer was, once again, disheartening, but he took comfort in the fact that she said ‘I don’t know’ instead of just a straight up ‘no’. That was at least something, right? He could work with an ‘I don’t know’.

“Was this all you wanted to talk with me about?” Marinette asked. “Whether or not I would come back to Dupont?”

Adrien winced. “Well, no-”

Yes.

“-I also just wanted to catch up in general. We haven’t really seen each other in over a month, ya know?”

Although she appeared to be hesitant towards his answer, she gave a small smile anyway. “Yeah, it’s definitely been a while.”

Adrien chuckled. “You know, I actually tried to go visit you at Rosemary one time before this, but when I asked a student where you were, he said that you didn’t even attend the school. Had you two just not met yet?”

“Uh.. Can you describe him? There’s a lot of people at the school.”

“Sure. He was about my height, maybe a bit taller, with pale blonde hair and light eyes- I think. He was kind of just pale in general.”

Marinette snorted. “Do you know the amount of people at the school that could match that description?”

“Okay, okay, uhm.. I think he was wearing dark colors that day. Like, greys or blacks maybe.”

“Wears dark colors, but has light hair and eyes, and is tall. Got it.” Marinette smiled. “Sorry, Adrien, but I’m just not sure. That could be Devin or Caleb or Eliot or any other number of boys. It could have even been someone who’s not in my classes.”

“Right, that’s fine. I was just curious.” He said casually, though it was really eating him alive. He knew that they knew each other. They had to! No one gets that upset during an akuma attack and calls the person their friend without knowing them. The guy even mentioned that their mutual friends were waiting for them! So who could it be?

“Order for Adrien and Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Adrien stood. “I’ll get it.”

Honestly, he didn’t need to know the guy’s name. It was a bitter inconvenience, to be sure, but in the end, finding out the blond-haired dude’s name isn’t the objective. The objective was to get rid of Lila, then get Marinette to come back to Dupont. She might be hesitant about it now, which was understandable, but once she sees the changes that he’s gonna make at Dupont, she’ll be more than happy to come back. He simply needed to open her up to the idea again.

Lucky for him, he had a whole lunch date to do just that.

~~~~~~

Lila slowed to a stop on the sidewalk, panting and out of breath. She searched the city streets from left to right, but was only met with the scenery of a regular, Paris afternoon. Where were the screaming fans? The paparazzi? The bodyguards holding everyone back? Did they all disperse already? That post was literally made five minutes ago! How did he run away so fast?

She pulled out her phone to unlock it, watching as her social media popped up again. It was a picture of XY standing next to a downtown café, the very café Lila was standing next to right now.

“Chillin’ at the Café Aroma today!” The post read, but there was no XY in sight. There were hardly even any XY fans here looking for him. Was the post just a ruse to get rid of the paparazzi for a while? Don’t tell her she got up and ran all the way down here for nothing!

Lila let out a groan, slumping against the café. If XY or any of his lackeys bothered to answer their dang cell phones, none of this would’ve happened! Why would they even put out public numbers if they weren’t going to tend to them? It was really a jerk-ish thing to do.

Nevertheless, she still needed to find a way to contact him. XY was the only celebrity in Paris that might be willing to show up at Dupont per her request. Jagged Stone was a close second, but if she brought him to school, Lila was certain Adrien would ask about her stupid, kitten-saving story. Then, Jagged would get all confused and say that he never had a kitten, and Lila would have a lot more explaining to do. That was too much of a hassle for her to deal with. She needed someone she hadn’t lied much about, someone who could also quiet her whining, soul-sucking classmates. Ergo, she needed to find XY.

But where is he? Lila thought, scrolling through her phone for more recent posts. XY clearly wasn’t downtown, meaning he could be just about anywhere in Paris. He could even be outside of Paris. How was she supposed to find him when she had no special contacts to do so? It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

And yet.. Marinette managed to find and reign in every celebrity she needed while she was class president. On. Her. Own.

Lila scowled and shoved her phone back into her pocket. Curse that goody-little-two-shoes for making her job harder. Curse her for somehow being perfect at everything and forcing Lila to enhance her lies to compete. Curse her for leaving to another school and making Lila suffer the consequences for it. Why couldn't Marinette have been a normal class president, hm? Why did she have to constantly outdo herself with the grandest of gestures and the most important of people? Why did Lila have to be so stupid as to try and fill an impossible roll? She should have convinced Alya to run for president instead. At least then she wouldn’t be blamed for the sudden budget cuts or the mismatched class trips. She would be able to continue lying in peace and not have to worry about delivering on all of her false promises. In fact, if she weren’t so busy trying to keep up with Marinette’s ‘legacy’, along with her own big mouth, she might have been able to take care of Adrien by now.

Lila heaved a heavy sigh and massaged her temples as she stood up from the café wall. XY wasn’t going to be found anytime soon, so she might as well take a break and grab a coffee before moving forward. Perhaps the caffeine will spark her creativity for a few lies that Adrien can’t dig into should her plan to find XY fail.

She walked over to the café door and pushed it open. The bell attached to the door jingled, reminding her of that incorrigible bakery, but she ignored it and continued inside. A little music toy wasn’t going to get in the way of her espresso.

Her eyes grazed over the room, hoping to find an empty table.

What she found instead, however, made her stomach drop.

There, sitting at a table near the middle of the room, was Adrien Agreste himself, and sitting across from him was none other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Lila yelped and ducked back outside, pressing herself firmly against the wall where they couldn’t see her. What were they doing there? What were they doing together?!

Carefully, she crept past the door and slid over to the large window at the front of the café, where she could watch the two from a safe distance. It probably looked suspicious to anyone passing, but she hardly cared at that point. If Adrien and Marinette were getting together like this, Lila was going to have much bigger things to worry about.

She peered through the glass, noting the near-empty plates on their table. They must be having lunch together. Did they do that often? Since when? What could they possibly be talking about?

A smirk tugged at the corner of Adrien’s lips, and Marinette snorted, putting a hand on her mouth to hide her laughter. Ugh, why did she look so cheery! She was supposed to be miserable!

Lila scoffed, digging her fingernails into the brick at the base of the window. What happened to the endless tears and the defeated, sagging posture? What happened to the shriveled up nothing that Lila watched leave the school? Was she really enjoying herself now that she wasn’t attending Dupont? More importantly, how long have Marinette and Adrien been meeting up like this? Was this the reason Adrien suddenly decided to fight back against her? Because he’d rekindled his friendship with Marinette? No wonder the man was out for blood! Marinette probably set him up to the task herself! She must have planned all of this from the very beginning!

No, Lila thought, digging her phone out of her pocket again. She refused to be made a fool of. If they thought they were going to pull one over on her this easily, they were gonna have another thing coming.

She snapped a photo of them together, making sure to get a moment where they were laughing hard, and tilted the angle of the camera to make it seem like she’d been passing by. Lila then got up and walked back into the café. A picture of Adrien having a grand time with Marinette should be enough of a set up for her to build him a bad reputation, but she needed to know what they were talking about specifically. The more she knew about this meet-up (and previous ones) the better, and if she were anything close to lucky, they would talk about their plans for her while she was there too. That would give her plenty of time to find a way to prepare.

Or, perhaps, strike first.

As casually as possible, Lila slipped into an empty seat near the pair, not too close, but not too far away that she couldn’t hear them. She then snatched the menu on her table and propped it up so her face couldn’t be seen while she listened.

“Okay, wait. So you’re telling me that they threw an entire Valentine’s Day party at the Mandarin Oriental by themselves?” She heard Adrien ask. He sounded immensely impressed. Who were they talking about?

“Yeah!” Marinette replied, the smile clear in her voice. “They’re parents paid for it, of course, but they arranged everything themselves, including the caterers and reservations. We actually made some of the decorations by hand too.”

“Wow, that sounds like a blast. I bet they all looked great.”

“They did! Especially when we finished the lights and stuff. Everyone loved it.”

Lila scrunched up her nose, equally confused and annoyed. Someone threw a party at the Mandarin Oriental for Valentine’s day? Who? Why was Marinette invited? And why did she get to personally help with the decorations? This wasn’t another one of her “chummy celebrity friends”, was it? It better not be.

Adrien chuckled. “If all of those rich kids at Rosemary enjoyed it, I’m sure it was something.”

Lila froze. Did he just say “all” of the rich kids? Meaning multiple? Why was Marinette hanging out with multiple rich kids? How was she hanging out with multiple rich kids? Were they inviting her to the parties they were throwing? Why? What did she have that was so freaking special?

Wait a minute.

Her raging thought finally caught up with the rest of Adrien’s comment, specifically the one about Rosemary. Wasn’t that the stuck-up school near the middle of Paris that was famously known for hosting either incredibly rich or incredibly gifted students? The one that barely let you breathe in their direction if you weren’t considered “worthy”? How did Marinette end up wandering around there long enough to catch some rich friends? No one’s allowed inside except for students or staff, and their policies are extremely strict. (she should know, considering she’s tried to weasel her way in there several times.) The only way she would be able to get inside was if-

Lila gasped, nearly dropping her menu in the process.

No.. No, no way Marinette got transferred from Dupont to Rosemary. That would just be absurd! She didn’t have any money! And she certainly didn’t have enough talent to be accepted despite that!

But as Lila listened to the conversation more and more, she had to endure the horrible realization that Marinette had, in fact, been transferred to Rosemary. Not only that, she was thriving there. She was making new friends who gave her rides in limos. She was going to fancy restaurants that cost more than Lila’s house for an afternoon snack. She was having slumber parties in mansions. Mansions! Entire estates that were apparently just as big- if not bigger! -than Adrien Agreste’s!

Lila had finally gotten rid of Marinette and won Dupont, only for Marinette to gain the new life that Lila had always dreamed of having! How was that fair? How was any of this fair!

Lila drew in a long, deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She couldn’t blow her top just yet. Marinette may be winning right now, but once Adrien is out of the way, Lila will make sure that Marinette suffers the way she deserves. Rosemary isn’t going to save her for long.

She pulled out her phone to unlock it and clicked on the messaging app, scrolling down until she found her favorite minion: Alya Cessaire.

~Hey, you’ll never guess what I just saw!!~

Lila smiled as she sent the text. With a message like that, Alya won’t be able to help her curiosity, and when Lila sends the picture of Adrien and Marinette together, the journalist will fall headfirst into a pool of rage.

In other words, that pampered little rich boy won’t know what hit him.

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(Hey, everyone! This section isn’t quite part of the story, but it’s going to be part of the updates from now on. Two weeks ago, I visited a Bible camp, and the Lord really spoke to my heart through the messages. So, from now on, I want to make Him the center of my life and glorify Him in everything I do. At first, I thought of not writing anymore fics or chapters, since doing so would really take my focus away from Him, but instead, I decide to start writing little devotions at the end of each chapter I post. That way, you all won’t have to suffer through an incomplete story, and I get to share the wonderful gospel with you all!

The first devotion I want to post is the message of salvation and how you can know that you’re going to Heaven when you die. The Bible (King James Version) says in Romans 3:23 “For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” and the first part of Romans 6:23 says “For the wages of sin is death”. We have all had a moment in our lives where we know we’re not supposed to do something, but we do it anyway. That breaking of rules is called a sin, and because of that sin, God says that we are not fit to be in His presence, for He is a just and holy God. So, due to this, our souls are condemned to the fiery prison known as Hell, where it is pitch black around you, and the only thing you can hear is wailing and weeping and gnashing of teeth. Your soul will be alight with fire, but your body will never actually burn, so you will be faced with that pain for the rest of eternity. Can you imagine that? Being in that kind of torment forever and ever and ever and knowing that it will never end? I can’t wrap my brain around that kind of pain, and I certainly don’t want any of you to have to endure it. So that’s why I’m telling you now that there is a bright side to all of this!

John 3:16 says “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” and the other part of Romans 6:23 says “but the gift of God is eternal life”. Do you realize what this means? It means we don’t have to go to Hell! God has provided a way of escape for us!

2,021 years ago, God sent his Son, Jesus Christ, down to earth to die for us. He was a perfect man, with no sin about Him, but he became sin for us and sacrificed himself so that we could be saved. People beat him and mauled him to point beyond recognition, then they nailed him to a cross for him to die. The pain he had to endure was excruciating, but he did it for us, because he loves us.

Then, three days after the Son of God passed away, he arose from the grave with new life! and because of that, we now have a way to join Him in heaven! All we have to do is admit that we are a sinner, repent of our sins, and accept Jesus Christ into our hearts as our Lord and Savior. We must believe on Him, and believe that he died on the cross for us, then we won’t have to go to Hell! It’s that easy! And those who believe on the Lord Jesus not only don’t have to go to Hell, but they also find a new home in Heaven with the very person who created us and loves us so much to the point of sacrificing Himself for our benefit. It’s a win-win scenario!

I know this isn’t a normal thing to do for fics, but this is something extremely important that I need all of you to know. So please, if you read through this, I implore you to get saved and accept Jesus as your savior. What do you have to lose? If you don’t, you’ll be doomed to an eternity of pain and suffering that you can never escape, but if you do, you will be guaranteed a place in paradise, where Jesus will be waiting for you with open arms. Please trust Him with your life and your heart. You know he will keep it safe.

Thank you all for listening to this and I hope you have a wonderful day!)

Tag List: @sasstrashforlike5fandoms @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252 @canivialemonsquints07 @derbygracie @pleaseignorejustheretoread

#felinette #Marinette #Miraculous Ladybug #New Girl on the Block #Rosemary AU #Felix Culpa #Quantic Kids #miraculous #ladybug

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quicksilversquared · 4 years ago

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Superhero Salary

It all started with a joke. It ended with Ladybug and Chat Noir finally getting some of the compensation that they deserved.

After all, fame isn't going to pay the bills.

links in the reblog

It all started with a (mostly) joking comment from Chat Noir, blurted out in a moment of frustration.

"I hate it when that happens," he had grumbled after Ladybug knocked him free from the akuma's control. "Stupid, stupid mind-control akumas. Tell Hawkmoth that if he's going to insist on akumas like that, he's gonna have to pay for my therapy after this is all over!" he hollered after the akuma, who was clearly hopping mad about no longer having a superhero under his control. "A superhero salary doesn't exactly pay enough for it!"

He had been kidding, at least mostly. Kidding or not, though, the complaint was out there.

The moment had been picked up by the Ladyblog, of course, just as part of the bigger fight. But it wasn't long before it absolutely exploded over the internet.

Sure, maybe in comic books it was implied that superheroes always worked for free. But was that really fair? After all, Ladybug and Chat Noir were providing a service to the city. They were taking the time out of their normal lives to save Paris and put things back to rights, and they were doing it often. They had to come out whenever Hawkmoth sent out an akuma, not just when they had a spare bit of time that they could use to fight crime. Just like policemen and firefighters, they were putting themselves in danger by fighting on the front line. And if they were in jobs, or were in school- well, having to duck out regularly had to be affecting them, and not in a positive way.

If they had jobs, they could very well be on the edge of losing them because of all of the times they went missing. Even if they were self-employed- well, then they would still be losing out on some serious work time and having to work late into the night instead. And if they were in school...

Then they would be in danger of falling behind and need help to keep on top of their schoolwork. Tutors and online courses both cost money.

And on top of all of that, there was superhero merchandise being made using their colors and images, clothes and dolls and souvenirs and toys. Surely they should be getting a cut of the profit from that.

With only a few exceptions, Paris was soon in agreement: their superheroes needed to be earning a salary.

Marinette wasn't quite certain what to think of it all.

"Tikki, what do I say if the mayor decides to give us a salary?" she implored, slumping back in her chair. "I mean, even if it would be possible to safely get the money, I just don't know."

Part of her wanted to do the noble thing and say no to a salary. After all, she was Ladybug because she wanted to help! Plus, would public perception of them change if they were technically city employees? The mayor might think that he had the power to call them up on command, which would really stink.

But- well, Marinette was a teenager, and no sane teenager would turn down money, particularly when it was money for work that she had done. Even though she wasn't exactly struggling- she got an allowance, plus money from babysitting Manon and of course commission money, and besides she was a teenager and not an adult with a million living expenses- having more money in her account for fabric or design classes or her future career wasn't a bad thing.

"Well, Plagg and I could certainly set things up so that all of the money you get would be funneled through us and our magic," Tikki told her. "And we would be careful about not matching up the amounts or making them regular! There's ways that we can do it without attracting attention."

Marinette nodded. That was one question answered, but the other?

"As for if you should take the money..." Tikki considered that. "I mean, there's a lot to consider. But I'd like to point out that you don't know how long you'll be fighting Hawkmoth, or if there'll be any other threats after he's gone to deal with. That could interfere with you having a regular job. And if the akuma attacks keep disrupting your school day and you need to hire a tutor to help you keep up but you don't want your parents knowing, having the extra money could help. Or if you decide to sign up for an online school so that you can look up lessons that you missed in class, you could pay for that! But people might have strong opinions about superheroes taking money, too."

"That's a lot of positives and only one negative," Marinette pointed out. "I mean, it could be annoying to listen to people judging, but unless they're in the majority..."

Either way, it was going to be disheartening to hear people judging her for taking the money. But as long as they weren't in her face or spreading lies about her and Chat Noir now not being motivated to take down Hawkmoth because that would mean an end to the money or something ridiculous like that, she could probably ignore it. Maybe she could make some donations with the money she was getting to dispel those rumors.

Honestly, she'd probably do that anyway. There were so many organizations and people in need in Paris, and if Marinette was earning money then of course she would want to support them.

Of course, that all depended on if the officials even offered the salary in the first place, which was honestly looking really likely. It looked like public opinion was strongly in their favor, and the mayor was seriously easily waived by public opinion most of the time. And anything to do with the superheroes- well, it was publicity gold.

And in the end, it only took a week of deliberations- entirely about how much Ladybug and Chat Noir should be making, and puzzling out how much of the profit from sales of their merchandise they should be getting on top of their salary- before the announcement went out that the superheroes would be offered payment. A day after that, Ladybug and Chat Noir accepted their salary and gave the city's head payroll officer the information their kwamis had given them for the kwami bank accounts, so that they could get their paychecks without risking their secret identities.

"I didn't expect things to blow up like this when I said that, about not earning enough for therapy," Chat Noir admitted after they had left. He had seemed put-together and confident when they were in the office- which Ladybug had appreciated, because the sums that were being discussed were absolutely intimidating and having Chat Noir being so confident next to her helped her not get flustered. "I mean, yeah, down the road, I wouldn't be surprised if I get nightmares about fighting all the time and need to get help with that, but- well, I don't think I'd be able to, not unless I sign up as Chat Noir instead of my civilian self. And I don't know if I would necessarily want to do that, in case too much civilian stuff comes out."

Ladybug winced. Yeah, that was a real concern. And- well, she didn't ever admit it to anyone other than Tikki, but she sometimes had nightmares about the fights, too. And Chat Noir was right- a therapist could probably help.

But the identity concerns...

It was more than likely that some personal information would come out if they were talking to any sort of therapist, and that was dangerous. Maybe the chance of their therapists stumbling on their identities was low, but she still couldn't risk it.

Maybe they could go out of Paris to find someone, using the Horse to jump. Then their therapist would be even less likely to make the connection between Ladybug and Marinette, and with the distance from Paris, having the superheroes in their office might be less exciting than it would be for someone who saw the superheroes on a daily basis. But even that wouldn't really be a possibility until Hawkmoth was gone, when they actually got some semblance of free time back.

"I can't deny that the money could be helpful, though," Chat Noir added after a moment. "I mean, depending on how long the conflict drags on, or if we need anything that Tikki and Plagg can't provide to help us, or- well, when I get old enough to move out of my father's place, I want to. There's way too many people who think that they can just barge into my room without warning and poke around, and- well, it's not safe."

Ladybug glanced over at her partner again. He looked like he was her age- in fact, they had shared enough information inadvertently that she was positive that they were probably a year apart at most- which meant that he was facing years of people disregarding his privacy and potentially discovering his secret. "That's ages away, though."

"I know. I can't do much about it right now, though, besides just paying attention to where I'm detransforming." Chat Noir sighed. "I guess the money can't really help with that, not right now."

"Yeah. And that's not great." Ladybug tapped a rhythm against her leg, trying to come up with a solution and finding none. She just didn't have enough information about the situation to find places where they could do something. "I mean, the most I can come up with is a camera that you could connect to and move around to see if anyone is in there before going back in. And you could see if anyone is coming around and poking around that you don't know about. But- well, the problem is that cameras can be hard to hide, and if your father finds out and decides to review footage..."

"It could backfire on me, really fast." Chat Noir glanced around, then back at her. "Yeah, I know. I guess- well, for now, I won't change anything. Maybe something will come up in the future."

"Yeah, I'm not going to be changing much either, I think. But it's nice to have that money there in case I need it." It made her feel a little weird, honestly- after over a year of volunteer superheroing, accepting money for that was just strange- but maybe eventually, it would sink in that she was doing a job and deserved pay for it.

Chat Noir nodded. "Just in case. And, well- if we don't use it, it'll be a good start for my retirement account!"

Ladybug laughed at that, the awkwardness and concerns that she had had earlier flying away in an instant. "Teenagers with retirement accounts. Who would have thought?"

"Well, you can never be too prepared, right?"

Ladybug giggled again, imaging the looks on her parents' places if she sat down for dinner and started asking questions about retirement accounts and for their advice in setting one up. Maybe it wouldn't be completely out of left field- after all, unlike most of her classmates, Marinette did earn money with commissions, and enough that she would not be spending it all- but it was also a strange thing for a teenager to ask about.

Well. At least it wasn't a bad problem to have.

A week later, Ladybug and Chat Noir officially received their first paychecks, with back payments pending. And by that time, the two of them had figured out where those payments were going.

Most of the money, of course, would be held in the kwami bank accounts until it could be trickled into their civilian bank accounts. How much, exactly, could be deposited without being noticed was still being decided- Ladybug could definitely get away with more than Chat Noir, though she figured that varying amounts and not at regular intervals would stick out less than regular payments. They were still trying to figure out how they might get retirement accounts going- even as much as they joked, it wasn't exactly a bad idea.

And then part of the money would go to charity. It was just a nice thing to do, after all, and since they had spare money- well, it would just be a good idea to help out a little bit more. They didn't want to make too big of a deal out of their donations, since it was very possible that people would judge where they were donating, how much they were donating, how often they were making their donations, and how their donations did or didn't change over time. There would no doubt be people petitioning the superheroes to support their favorite charities, which- well, maybe it would be a good way to learn about new causes, but it sounded like more stress than it would be worth. Besides, Ladybug and Chat Noir were private citizens behind the mask, and they deserved to have some privacy about their finances.

All they needed to tell the public was that they were donating anonymously and wouldn't be disclosing the places or amounts for those reasons. It was a simple answer, and should satisfy most of the population. There would no doubt be a few naysayers- there almost always were a few people who just had to be difficult- but it was a reasonable answer.

Thankfully, the person who had interviewed Ladybug and Chat Noir about what they were going to do with their first paychecks- a kind man from a mid-sized newspaper, who had earned the spot of first interview entirely because he hadn't been pushy about asking- had thought that their reasoning was plenty sound. They were hardly going to be millionaires, and so expecting them to donate large amounts on a regular (and frequent) basis was completely ridiculous. Keeping things private- well, that meant that people who were out of touch wouldn't be moaning about donations that they were perceiving as too small.

Just because Ladybug and Chat Noir were famous didn't mean that they were rich.

Marinette hummed quietly to herself as she skimmed the article that the reporter they had talked to had written. While the interview itself had taken place several days prior, the article had just been released that morning to coincide with both their first payment and the start of the month. It was very nicely written, and framed their reasoning in an even more clear and articulate light than they had managed themselves. She didn't doubt that it would get noticed soon, and then the speculation about whether or not Ladybug and Chat Noir would donate some of their earnings would be put to rest for once and for all-

"Wait, Ladybug and Chat Noir aren't donating any of their salary? That's so unlike them!"

-or maybe not.

"I was surprised too, they just completely brushed me off when I suggested that they donate part of their salaries," Lila told her audience as they swept into the room as a- well, as a flock, really, that was the only way to describe it. "It's what I would do if I was a superhero, of course, so I thought that they would feel the same! It's such a let-down, I really thought that they were better than that..."

"I would say that maybe it's because they've donated so much of their time to the city already, but I know I heard something at some point about backpayments to cover their time from the start," Alya commented, her eyebrows furrowed. "So that's not really donated time anymore, is it?"

"Maybe they have bills to pay," Rose piped up, clearly ever-hopeful. "And they need to get caught up with that first, of course. That would make sense!"

Of course, Lila was shaking her head as she headed up to her seat, with the rest of the group following not far behind to keep listening. "They're too young for bills. I met up with them again this morning and was trying to talk some sense into them because really, they could just do small donations, even a little bit helps- I would know, I've seen how far money can stretch and help in a charity! But even now that they have the money in their hands, they just want to keep it."

There were murmurs of disappointment all around the group gathered around Lila at that. Even though donations clearly weren't mandatory- well, they thought that the superheroes should be better role models than that! If they didn't have bills to pay, surely...

"And it's not like they're not getting enough to have both spending money and do a little charity," Lila said, shaking her head sadly. "Plenty of spending money, even! And I pointed that out, but they got really upset with me. I'd hate for our friendship to be destroyed over this really, but it's just- I feel like I don't know them at all now!"

Frankly, Marinette had heard enough. She wasn't going to let her reputation as Ladybug- or Chat Noir's reputation- get slandered by Lila's nonsense.

"Funny thing," Marinette commented in the most deadpan, disinterested voice that she could muster, not even taking her eyes off of her tablet as she talked. "You say that you met up with the superheroes this morning and they weren't interested in doing donations, and yet there's an article in La Trib this morning about an interview they did with the superheroes days ago that say otherwise. It says that donating was in their plan from the start."

The group in the back of the room went quiet.

"Marinette is correct," Markov commented after a moment, breaking the silence. "The article was posted one hour ago, though the paper copy presumably went out earlier. The superheroes stated that they have been looking at charities since they first heard that they might be getting money for their superhero work, as they wish to continue to help Paris. Their donations will be anonymous and private to protect their privacy and to prevent unwanted commentary on their choices."

Marinette glanced back. All eyes were slowly turning from Markov to Lila.

"There is also a video of the interview linked on the online version of the article," Markov added. "And the metadata confirms that it was filmed several days ago."

Several of the eyes pointed towards Lila were getting narrowed and suspicious.

"Oh, that- that's lovely!" Lila exclaimed, somewhat belatedly pressing her hand over her heart. "Maybe they were just trying to wind me up to tease me, then! And I misread the situation and took them seriously. Or they were trying to give me a pleasant surprise! It happens, sometimes- I'm not always great at catching sarcasm-"

This time, not everyone looked entirely convinced.

Smiling to herself, Marinette looked back at her tablet, closing out of the article and opening up their reading for Literature so that she could review it- or, well, finish reading it, because an akuma had interrupted her the previous night and it had been too late to pick it up again once the fight was over. If she hurried, she might be able to finish it before Ms. Bustier called for a start to class, and then she wouldn't get in trouble again for not doing her homework.

Honestly, if Lila's track record was anything to go by, she would probably wriggle her way out of the lie by the afternoon and the whole incident would be forgotten. But maybe this time would end up different- after all, Marinette had never seen that doubt before- and Lila's tower of lies would finally come toppling down. It was long overdue, really, but Marinette wasn't going to hold her breath.

If it happened...well, if their superhero salary was like a surprise cake, then a Lila downfall would be the cherry on top.

#Miraculous Ladybug #my writing #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #superhero retirement fund

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saiikavon · 3 years ago

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Have to go to work in thirty minutes but over here just imagining Ladybug learning who Chat Noir is and who Hawk Moth is at the same time and immediately losing her shit.

“You? YOU?? Seriously?? YOU’RE the reason I have nightmares about Chat Blanc?? YOU’RE the reason I can’t be happy and in love with my crush? YOU’RE the one hurting my kitty and making him question his worth on a daily basis?? Oh, Gabriel, you picked the wrong bug to mess with I am going to end you.”

#miraculous ladybug

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giuliafc · 3 years ago

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His Biggest Ambition - Snippet July/LadyNoir July day 5 - Ambition/Milk

Ao3 || FFN

His Biggest Ambition

Written by: JuliaFC

Beta: Malauu_Ladynoir, @rose-beagle-bagel

Summary: Trying to build team spirit, Ladybug, Chat Noir, Carapace and Rena Rouge get together for a session of Truth or Drink... with a twist. A few rounds on, one of the questions opens a whole can of worms. Written for the Snippet July/LadyNoir July. Day 5 - Ambition/Milk (story wordcount 999 words)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc, TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Written for the "Snippet July" challenge of the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server @miraculousfanworks AND for LadyNoir July @ladynoirjuly. Day 5 — Ambition/Milk. I tried to be original. Let me know what you think!

oOoOoOoOoOo

"CAMEL’S MILK?" shouted Chat Noir.

Rena gave him a smooth look. "Well, nobody picked this option from my poll so..."

"Where did you get it?" asked Chat again. "I tried it once and it was disgusting!"

"Believe me, I know!" Rena grimaced. "Ni—my boyfriend's family brought some from Morocco. It felt like drinking smoke."

"Yeah." Chat groaned. "A friend made me try it once; ugh, I wished I hadn't."

"Soooooo... it's purr-fect!" Rena winked at his glare.

"Hey! That's my line!" Chat pouted, but when everyone laughed, he joined the hilarity.

Ladybug was the first to get serious. "Rena, what's about the milk, and why did you gather us here on a non-patrol night?"

Rena sighed. "A little birdie—" She poked Carapace. "—made me realise that although we've become part of your team on a quasi permanent basis, we know nothing about each other."

"And that's how it should be!" Ladybug groaned. "The less we know the better, to protect our secret identities."

"Come on, Ladybug. You know my identity and Carapace's." Rena looked at her meaningfully and raised an eyebrow. "Some people may feel treated like outcasts."

The quick movement of her chin towards him, as she folded her arms to her chest, went nearly unnoticed by the black clad superhero, but not Ladybug's reaction. She stood up, grabbed Rena and pulled her aside, a bit too far for him to hear their conversation. After a long whispered argument, finally Ladybug returned to her seat.

"Okay, you have a point."

Rena fiddled with her fingers in an excited gesture of victory. "Game's called 'Truth or Drink'." She smirked. "Since we're all minors, we can't drink alcohol. Hence, the camel's milk."

"Ugh." Chat Noir sighed. "What do we need to do?"

"Here, there's a list of carefully selected questions." She slammed a bunch of small papers in between them. "Which we'll answer truthfully. If you don't want to answer," she said, moving a thermos to the centre of the circle, "you drink the milk."

Three sets of disgusted faces stared back. "What?" she inquired.

"No identity revealing questions, I hope?" Ladybug made to grab some papers, but Rena slapped her hand.

"Aha. Don't peek."

"But you know…" protested Ladybug.

"Incorrect." tsked Rena. "My sisters selected the questions, not me."

Chat Noir didn't think it was a good idea initially. But, as the questions rolled on and everyone struggled to find unrevealing but truthful answers, he realised that it was fun. And it did make Rena and Carapace, and even Ladybug herself, become more real.

"Are you with us, Chaton?" Ladybug's question woke him from his réverie.

"Oh, sorry. Is it my turn?"

Carapace nodded. "Yes, dude. What's your ambition?"

"Winning against Papillon isn't an option, obviously," pointed out Rena. "Mine is to become an award winning journalist."

Chat Noir looked at Rena and lifted his eyebrow. That sounded familiar.

"Mine's to become a famous DJ," said Carapace. ‘That sounds familiar too’, thought Chat Noir. His eyes became small slits in his face as he shot a suspicious look at the two heroes. But seconds later, his focus moved to Ladybug, who was busy tapping a finger to her chin.

"I suppose," she mumbled, "my ambition is to be a good leader." She paused for a long time, and then her gaze met his. "And as a leader, I should admit when I'm wrong." She cupped a hand to his cheek, causing him to blush. "I'm sorry I made you feel like an outcast, Chaton. It was never my intention. I promise, I'll include you more."

He squeezed her hand. "Thank you, M'lady. I… know that it's hard for you. I don't blame you. But, to tell the truth..." He glanced at Rena and at the daunting thermos. "It hurt me because I felt useless… and invisible." Chat saw her concerned frown and lowered his gaze. He couldn't believe he was going to say that in front of Rena and Carapace, but, after all, the only person that mattered to him was her and he needed her to know. "My ambition; wh—" His voice cracked, he cursed under his breath. "What I really want is to be seen, for who I am."

"Oh, mon Minou," started Ladybug, stroking his cheek. Chat Noir grabbed her hand and held it.

"I know, LB. We're superheroes, nobody can see the real person behind the suit. That's not what I mean. Every day in my civilian life, I wear masks. I'm used to wearing so many that I don't know anymore where the mask ends and where the person beneath starts. My fath—uh, family only cares about me being perfect and that's what I let people around me see of me. That's why I find being Chat Noir so elating; it's a version of myself that I chose to show. For a long time, I thought Chat Noir was the real me." He hugged his knees. "But recently, somebody made me realise that it's not true. This..." He pointed at himself. "This is me, when I act like a clown. She was right—I'm not a clown. I'm not confident, I'm not brave… I don't know who I am and… my biggest ambition is finding myself and having the courage to let the people I love see the real me."

When he finished saying that, he dared look at her and the tears in Ladybug's eyes warmed his heart. Speechless, she wrapped him in a hug.

"I'm sorry, Chat Noir," she whispered. "I had no idea you felt this way! I should've noticed. I'm so sorry!" She looked him in the eye and placed a soft kiss on his cheek that made his heart flutter. "I promise, Chaton. I'll help you. We can work together and find the real you."

"You and me against the world?" he said with a shy smile.

She nodded and showed her fist to him to bump. "Pound it?"

He smiled and bumped her fist with his. "Pound it, M'lady."

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

Author's Note

Whop, whop, here's day 5! Yes, I know… right on the feels again. And yes, Rena and Carapace are still there, feeling a bit out of place but… well, there you go. I had no words left to spare. I suppose that when identities will be disclosed eventually, he will have an even stronger support network ^^.

I hope you liked the story and will leave me a comment. You know that comments are my bread and butter!

Until (hopefully) tomorrow, bug out!

#miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #chatnoir #miraculous chat noir #adrien agreste #adrien #adrien true self #adrien's ambition #rena rouge #carapace #ladynoir #ladybug x chat noir #ladybug x cat noir #lovesquare #ladynoirjuly2021 #miraculous fanworks #snippet july

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cheshiremadd · 5 years ago

Text

Uprooting Bindweed

Ao3

I'd had the idea of Rena and Chat talking about Marinette and Adrien in my WIP folder, and then @galahadwilder posted the perfect prompt on discord to go with it: what if Chat Noir fired Rena Rouge.

Thank you SO much to @alexseanchai and @sweetmeatdale for your feedback! 💜

Speaking of Alex, they came up with the title, because they're amazing like that. Bindweeds are used as "food plants by the larvae of some Lepidoptera species, including the convolvulus hawk moth". With that information and the Bindweed tarot card, I knew a more perfect title would not be found.

The Akuma of the Week was searching for Marinette. The fourth time this month, and he was really hoping there was nothing to that. So many targeting the same person not Chloé or Lila seemed strange to him. But that was a worry for another time.

Chat Noir and Rena Rouge had been sent ahead to the bakery (he was very glad that he’d stashed Marinette somewhere else). Rena was to Mirage herself into the designer and play bait, but they had to wait until Ladybug could lure the akuma closer. Five minute timer, and all.

Rena reached her balcony first, and went to the trapdoor without hesitation. Chat figured he’d have to be the one to open it, and had been planning how to go about it without giving away how familiar he was, but Rena had no qualms. His stomach soured at the thought that he wasn’t the only superhero to visit Marinette.

She’d redecorated some since he last was in her room. He wasn’t able to come as often as he wanted, and they typically preferred the open air and view of her balcony when the weather was warm.

Adrien’s modeling photos were still present, but they’d been updated to more recent shoots. On another wall were more candid pictures. Their friends and classmates. People he assumed were Marinette’s family (only some of whom he’d met). Several of Kitty Section. Her and Jagged Stone and Penny Rolling (it still blew his mind that she’s on a first name basis with them). Lots of her and Alya and Nino. Fewer of Adrien.

He knew she had more of Chat than of Adrien. But she kept those on her phone, locked away in a secret folder. Too much chance that someone would see her walls.

One caught his eye, placed directly in the center, the spot of honor. A high res of Chat-him and Ladybug. They’d thrown their arms over each other’s shoulders and snapped half a dozen selfies. It’d been Ladybug’s idea to submit the best of them to the Ladyblog, giving civilian them plausible deniability.

The last wall, above her sewing supplies, held her inspiration boards. One for general inspiration, holding her favorite pieces from her favorite lines (only one of which was a Gabriel piece, he noted with some interest), some fabric squares of different colors and patterns, and scenic pictures from around Paris. The other, he knew, was more specific to whatever she was currently working on. Pinned to it was a handful of dried flowers, a fabric swatch to match each flower, and several sketches.

Chat glanced at Rena, realizing she’d been quiet this whole time. She was staring at Adrien’s modeling photos, the look on her face unreadable. He looked with her. He wondered if there was a specific shoot Marinette favored.

“This must look so strange to you.”

Chat looked back at her, but said nothing. He wasn’t sure what he could say that wouldn’t give away exactly how close he was to Marinette.

“I promise she’s not some weird stalker in love with a celebrity. Well. He is a celebrity and she does have the biggest crush on him.” Um. What? “But they’re actually friends. She didn’t even like him when she first met him. The—the Wall actually started because he wasn’t allowed to hang out very often, and no one could get any candids of him.”

What?!

His shock must have shown on his face. He turned back to ‘the Wall’ in an effort to hide at least some of it.

“You seriously didn’t know?” Rena said. “You’ve got to be, like, one of two people in Paris that doesn’t. I keep flopping on whether Adrien knows or not. One minute it’s like he’s encouraging her feelings, the next he’s going on about how glad he is to have such a good friend.”

Chat tried not to sputter. “How—how does ‘no candids’ turn into—” He gestured at the collage of Adriens.

“None of them were perfect.” Rena said it like she’d heard it a million times. “This photo shows his sincere eyes, but the rest of the face is photoshopped too much to be his real smile. ‘That advertisement had most of his real smile!’ ” She pitched her voice higher in mimicry. “ ‘But they shaved several centimeters off of his waist! Several! He’s skinny but he’s not that skinny can you believe they felt like they needed to change that, Rena?’ Well, she didn’t say Rena, she said my civilian name. I mean—you get it. And, oh, that outfit looks really good on him, it looks like something he’d choose to wear himself, but he looks so tired in that one. I bet that was at the end of that all-day shoot.”

(They didn’t actually shave inches off his waist. They did shave a little, but that wasn’t the point because—) He never realized that Marinette paid so much attention to him. He wanted to deny it. She’d specifically told him that she didn’t have a crush on him. And Marinette hates liars.

But. But she’d been embarrassed, that day. And she was embarrassed around him a lot. Especially when Alya was involved. It’d taken him a long time to notice that, but once he had, he saw it everywhere. And with this new piece of information…it shone a whole different light on many of their interactions.

Chat swallowed. He wasn’t sure what to do with this knowledge. He’d been in love with Ladybug for…for a long time. And Marinette. Marinette was special. Rejecting her was hard enough the first time, but at least he’d known that it’d never work between a superhero and a civilian.

Oh, Kwamis. She had a crush on Chat, too! Adding that event with this new understanding, he realized she never meant to confess to him. She’d probably been about to backtrack, but then her parents interrupted, and it was out of control from there.

What better evidence that someone truly liked you for who you were than falling for you twice and not realizing it?

Rena shuffled a bit, finding other things to poke her nose in, and Chat realized that he’d never responded.

“So, you don’t think it’s creepy that this girl has like twenty pictures of her crush on her walls?” He didn’t think it was creepy. He thought it was endearing. But he was curious what she would say. She’d been interestingly defensive of Marinette.

She snorted. “Hey, if it’s crazy, Adrien’s her same kind of crazy. He’s got more photos of Ladybug on his phone than I do, and that’s saying something.”

His brain came to a complete stop. And then worked overdrive. How the fuck did Rena Rouge know that.

She sighed, picked at her flute, and continued. “I’ve been wondering if she shouldn’t give him up, though. It’s starting to get unhealthy. Ruining her friendships in class.”

His chest tightened and it became hard to breath. Loving him was bad for her. The thought rattled around, but what she said next wiped it all away.

“There’s this girl in class, Lila. She’s an amazing person, done all these things, and has a real chance with Adrien. Marinette can’t let it go. She swore that Lila was lying, then dropped it and now just gives her the cold shoulder. Won’t go to group outings if Lila’s involved. Keeps flaking out. Avoids her completely. Lila’s trying, so hard, to keep the peace, mend bridges, and Marinette just refuses to listen.”

Rena dropped her hands, hitting her thighs, and paced. Agitated.

“It’s jealousy, pure and simple. And if she’s going to be like that, then I just don’t know if I can approve her being in a relationship. Especially with him.”

Chat felt something inside him harden. Gritted his teeth. Considered biting his tongue. He knew who this was. It’s plain as day now, and he’s mildly surprised he didn’t see it before. She’s supposed to be Marinette’s best. friend. And this was how she thought of her?

To be fair, Rena looked torn over this. Chat could see the hurt in her eyes, the worry in her bitten lower lip. The frustration in the creases of her brow. And she was telling all this to Chat, whom she only passingly knew.

But he couldn’t keep the distaste from his face. “Marinette’s right. Lila Rossi is a fucking liar. You think she’s got a real chance with Adrien Agreste? He wouldn’t touch her with my extendable baton. He only does photoshoots with her because clearly no one at Françoise Dupont knows what proper procedures for expulsion are, and that stunt Rossi pulled almost turned into Heroes Day 2.0.” He tugged down one of Adrien’s glamour shots. Marinette’s handwritten and detailed critiques ran along the edges. “From what it sounds like, Agreste would be lucky to date a girl like Marinette.”

Rena stared at Chat, stunned. “What do you know about Lila?”

He let out a short and hard laugh. “Enough. That little interview on the Ladyblog? I doubt there’s a true word in it. I mean, Ladybug’s best friend? I’m Ladybug’s best friend!”

Some of the tension released from her shoulders and she rolled her eyes. “Right. I forgot how jealous you can be, too.”

Chat growled at her. His ears flicked back, low on his head, and his tail whipped through the air agitatedly. “If you’re going to sit here and defend that manipulative bitch then you might as well take that miraculous off right now.”

Rena stepped back into a defensive stance. She was a decent fighter, but he was better. If she refused to give it over peaceably—

Something thumped on the roof. Ladybug. There was still an akuma, and that took priority. They needed to be where Ladybug expected them.

“Mirage, now.” His words were short and clipped. He pounced past her and opened up the window opposite of where the akuma would be coming from. “Follow the plan. We can talk about this later.”

The plan worked out like most of Ladybug’s plans do: perfectly. Chat’d tied the villain up in Marinette’s tarp-roof, presented with a string-of-lights bow and a flourished bow to his Lady to his Lady. She did her thing, tossed the spotted paperclip into the air, and Marinette’s balcony and room put themselves back together. The glamour shot even taped itself back on the wall.

Chat sent Ladybug a look. She gestured in a direction and he nodded. He was pretty sure he knew the roof she meant.

Rena passed by him with wariness, but he paid her no visible attention. She took off with Ladybug in the agreed direction while he turned to the akuma victim. He had a princess to protect.

“Here, let me get you down to street level,” he said. The deakumatized girl seemed hesitant to step into his arms, but relented after seeing no other way down. “Do you remember anything?”

Tears shone in her eyes for a moment, but she swiped at them and tried a smile. It didn’t work. “I—I think I’ll be okay. It’s stupid, I just…let my stress get the better of me.”

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off with a gasp. “Oh, no, Marinette! I didn’t do anything to hurt her, did I?”

“Mlle Dupain-Cheng is fine,” he hurried to reassure her, “but…do you remember why you were after her? Did she do something wrong?”

“No! No. Marinette is lovely; she’s always helping us out in the Garden Club!” The girl paused, ashamed. “I was just feeling overwhelmed and she always seems so put together, she juggles all these responsibilities…I was jealous. Like I said. Stupid.”

“Hey, hey, your feelings are not stupid. Everyone gets stressed and feels like they’re drowning at times. I bet if you asked Marinette about it, she’d say that she always feels like that.”

He remembered himself and what he had to do, and glanced upwards.

“I’m very sorry. I’d usually stay longer and make sure you’re really okay, but I have an urgent something.” He handed her one of the business cards he’d made up. It had information on a number of Akuma support groups. “I can be back in about 30 minutes if you want to wait?”

Her smile turned a little more real. She took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. “I think I’ll be okay,” she said again. “I’ll—that’s good advice. Talking to Marinette. Thank you, Chat Noir. For caring.”

He smiled and saluted her, then bounded off. His baton confirmed that Ladybug and Rena were still active a few rooftops over. But then he watched Rena’s signal go out and put on a burst of speed to get there in time. They weren’t on the roof, it turned out, but in the alleyway adjacent to the building.

Ladybug’s eyebrows raised in silent question when she saw him. “Sorry, Bug. This is something that needs to be done.”

Alya looked between the two. Suspicion bloomed and, with it, fear.

Pernicious cat gods, this was going to be awful.

“Alya Césaire.” Chat held his hand out. “The Miraculous. Please.”

She grasped it so hard her knuckles turned white. She took a big gulp of air and said shakily, “This feels final.”

He stared at one of his closest friends, and didn’t let himself waver.

“Your recklessness has put many in danger, including Ladybug and myself. You gave Lila Rossi a platform to speak, to spread her lies. You, who had held a miraculous before, and likely would again. Whom Ladybug had shown a partiality to in interviews and questions. You had every opportunity to check Rossi’s story.”

And, oh, he sounded exactly like his father. That grated.

“In giving her credibility, you opened several of your classmates up to her manipulations. Your best friend warned you about her lies, and you wrote it off as petty jealousy. You tried to write off what I told you as petty jealousy.”

He could kind of see how she’d come to that conclusion, assuming Marinette never told her about that cringe-worthy ice skating date and knowing that she was in love with him. (Alya said ‘crush’. Having this new option to attribute to Mari’s behavior, he knew it was more than that.)

“Furthermore, I can guarantee that at least one terrorist watches your blog. A civilian claimed to be a superhero’s best friend and you broadcast that to the world. What happens when said terrorist decides to use that?”

It was harsh, and damning. But it had to be said. She needed to understand.

Alya looked from him to Ladybug and back, then repeated the motion. “You—you can’t…” Alya’s voice broke. Her eyes settled on Ladybug, who appeared to have turned to stone, she held herself so rigidly. “He can’t do this. Right? You hand out the Miraculous; it’s your decision. Not his!”

Ladybug’s stormy eyes turned to ice. The Ladyblogger realized her mistake and opened her mouth to salvage something, anything, but Ladybug cut her off. “You, of all people, should know that Chat is my equal. He’s right. I should've…but I didn’t…” She shook her head, once. “I stand by his decisions.”

Chat released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Alya’s eyes grew bright with tears and she clutched the Fox Miraculous harder. She stared at them, and they stared at her, and she finally dropped it into Chat’s claws.

Ladybug’s hands fluttered in Alya’s direction. She pulled up short, though, unsure if her touch would be welcome.

“This doesn’t make you a bad person, Alya,” she said gently. “You’ve been lied to and manipulated. That’s not your fault. But, as a reporter, it’s important to consider the consequences of distributing information. Just as it is to produce evidence to back your stories.”

Alya’s hand pressed against her mouth, muffled a sob.

Ladybug hesitated, considering, and then spoke again. “You can still be a hero, Alya. Magic, the miraculous, it doesn’t make you into what you aren’t. You make you a hero. And, like I told Chloé, being a hero starts with your everyday life.”

Silence. The only sounds were the girl’s sniffling and the pounding of Chat’s heart. Even the sounds of the city muted. He had to force himself to stay still. Fidgeting felt disrespectful somehow. It was broken by Alya.

“So—so Lila was never your friend?” she asked thickly.

Ladybug’s voice was so gentle, yet cut through what the Ladyblogger had known like a knife. “No.”

Alya nodded. Wiped her eyes and tried to pull herself together. Her short gasps of breath betrayed how upset she was. “I. I think I’ve—” She swallowed. “Got some thinking to do.”

She turned to face the street, straightened her spine, and walked out. Her walk looked a little robotic to Chat, a little too forced to be her normal. She barely made it ten meters before Chat heard Nino call out to her.

Good, he thought, deflating a little. Nino will protect her.

His priority was his Lady.

“Well, it looks like you finally joined me in getting past the time limitation.” His attempt at lightening the mood fell flat even to him.

Ladybug didn’t respond at all. She took a big, shuddering breath.

“Oh, Bug…” Chat was quick to wrap his arms around her, and gently pull her head to rest on his shoulder. He coaxed her into a shuffle-walk until his back met the dirty alley wall, the heel of the hand that still held the Fox necklace rubbing up and down and across her back. “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head back and forth; his claws tangled further in her hair. He tried not to listen to her quiet tears. He drowned out the sound of Nino and Alya moving on. The cars on the street. Instead he looked for the delicate and distinct sound of an akuma’s wings. She deserved a moment to mourn without worry.

Ladybug took a deep breath.

“You were right.” Her voice sounded wet. “Her blog affects many, and we were probably the only ones she was going to listen to.

“Actions…actions have to have consequences. Alya wasn’t seeing them, and—and maybe we shouldn’t be judge, jury, and executioner, but—the longer this goes on the worse they’ll become.”

Neither of them moved. He continued to find no evil bugs. Or feathers, but they usually went weeks in between Mayura sightings.

A gentle wind blew. They were having a round of good weather. Sunny days that were just warm enough to make the breeze feel perfect. He was hoping it’d hold through the weekend.

Ladybug pulled away to wipe her eyes. He fumbled a folded black handkerchief with green embroidery into her hands and she shot him a grateful, if watery, smile. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oh, that just warmed him down to his toes. And emboldened him to push a little more. “Hey, I was wondering, would you mind saying that bit about me being right again? Because I could listen to that all day—”

He internally cheered as his partner huffed out a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Careful, kitty. I can see your head getting bigger by the second.”

She returned fire!

Mission accomplished.

That meant it was time to go, he guessed.

Chat stood there a moment longer. Contemplative.

“What are you thinking about, minou?”

He turned to her with a small smile, trying to hold it back and mostly failing. She crinkled a smile in return and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m going to get me a girlfriend.”

He said it so resolutely, so surely, so smugly, that she couldn’t help but laugh. “You are, are you?”

He nodded. His smile spread to full blown glee. “If she’ll have me. Rena said something while we waited, and it just made me think. There’s this girl, LB, and fuck is she amazing. She’s been waiting for me for the better part of two years, and I just realized that I’m crushing on her. Hard. I don’t even know when it started.”

He sighed, happy. “I’m going to ask her out. Tomorrow. And pray to the kwamis that she gives me one last chance.”

(Adrien didn’t ask Marinette out the next day, because Alya looked awful and he figured she needed the support. He’d count himself lucky if she didn’t get akumatized over this, and would attribute the entirety of that luck to his princess. He did invite her to lunch the day after that—he’d thought it’d be more difficult than it was, but Alya was already leading Rose off to a quiet corner—where he managed a stuttered and stilted confession. He honestly had no idea how Marinette managed to understand it, but she must have because she gave an enthusiastic “Yes!” and the next thing he knew they were making plans to explore the city together on Saturday.)

It's the job of the Black Cat to recognize when something’s not working, and to get rid of it. Destruction is necessary for Creation to truly thrive. And, sometimes, that means destroying what Creation loves. But, sometimes, the thing Creation loves is the vine that's choking her.

(Or enables the vine that’s choking her.)

#miraculous ladybug #chat noir #ladybug #rena rouge #alya salt #alya learns a lesson #lila salt #adrienette #ml fanfic

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e-milieeee · 5 years ago

Text

movie night—ladynoir

Notes: Based on @buggachat‘s comic about a Tangled movie night :D

Summary: When Ladybug finds out Chat Noir’s never watched Tangled, she decides that won’t do.

The hardest part of the whole set-up is hauling everything to the rooftops.

Given the hours she’s been working on the projector, it’s still rough and relatively delicate, and Ladybug is afraid that too much jostling will break the box, effectively ruining everything she’s prepared for (which she seems to be horrifyingly good at). The only downside of the spot she picked—perfectly nestled between two buildings and inaccessible for almost anyone—is that it’s a fifteen minute run from her house, even when she’s fully suited up as Ladybug.

It takes an hour to transfer everything she wants, then fifteen more minutes to arrange it. Chat Noir drops by as she’s scrambling to set up the screen, trying to stretch her yo-yo to the proper length.

“Bonsoir, M’lady!” His voice travels from behind her, and she hears his steps approaching. “What’s happening? What are you doing? Are we supposed to patrol today?” He draws a little closer. “Uh, what’s with the box?”

Ladybug chooses to ignore the probing questions as she sets the final piece into place. “Just cross your fingers that it works,” she tells him. “And—YES!”

The light shutters for a moment before it casts fully on the wall in front of them. In the darkening sky, the projection is especially bright, which creates much better effects than she had initially anticipated. On the wall, in bold letters and shimmering colors reads: Tangled.

Now that the stress of setting up has passed, Ladybug’s well aware that dragging him out under the guise of patrolling calls for an explanation. She shuffles her feet on the ground, busying herself by needlessly fussing with the box.

“Uh, so, when we were fighting Mr. Mime, there was a projector, right?” She looks up at Chat quickly, and, finding his expression brightening, glances away again. “Anyway, you always joke about going to the theatres with me which we obviously can’t do because well, look at us!” She gestures at him, then herself, very well aware that she’s rambling. “We’d be recognized! But then I thought of this—which Tikki helped with—and you’ve never watched Tangled, so ta-da! We’ll have to sit close to the projector because the movie is playing on my laptop and I couldn’t find a way to project the sound as well so the audio won’t be that great and I don’t want to disturb people living around here—”

“M’lady,” Chat interrupts, effectively shutting down the influx of nonsense. “I love it. I’m serious. I’m so happy you did this.”

Compliments are even harder to deal with than silence. Ladybug’s relieved that it’s too dark for him to see her face. “Don’t get your hopes up,” she warns. “I’m serious when I say the audio might not be great.”

“Everything’s great when it’s with you,” he replies immediately.

Unwilling to show that his flattery actually gets to her, Ladybug grabs his arm to tug towards the nest of blankets she’s made. Piled on the side are the snacks she had bought ten minutes prior, much to the surprise of the convenience store employee two blocks back.

“Woah.” Chat Noir’s eyes are bright in the dark, and Ladybug swears there are stars in them. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“This is what I do with all my friends,” Ladybug mumbles as she pulls her blanket over her. “Movie nights aren’t complete without blankets and popcorn and chips. Now shut up, it’s starting.”

In her periphery, Ladybug watches Chat Noir, nearly splitting his face with the wide smile, as he settles down next to her with his own blanket.

And, when he snuggles into her side, she doesn’t stop him.

***

“What kind of parent locks their child up and calls it love?” Ladybug demands. Less than an hour in and Chat Noir has cried twice and finished two family size bags of chips. “No matter how many times I watch this movie, Mother Gothel never fails to piss me off.”

“A bad parent does,” Chat mumbles. He’s working through on his third bag, sprawled inelegantly over her lap. “But hey, at least Rapunzel escaped.”

“Wait ‘til the end,” Ladybug tells him.

He practically shrieks. “No spoilers!”

Ladybug bursts out laughing at the sheer terror in his voice. Before she can reply, the screen in front of them flickers, the colors blurring, before it fades to black.

“Wait, what?” Chat Noir scrambles to a sitting position. Ladybug doesn’t know how he’s still capable of moving after eating so much. “That wasn’t the end, right?”

She sits up too. “No, there’s still forty minutes left. At least.”

Chat Noir dutifully clamours off her legs to let her reach for her laptop. Ladybug tugs it carefully from the contraption. The screen has gone dark, and when she presses the power button, the charging symbol flashes pitifully for a second before fading.

“No,” she groans. “I’m out of battery! Ugh, why now of all times—!”

Chat remains silent for a couple of moments, and Ladybug feels guilt biting at her. She couldn’t even finish the movie with him.

Then, he asks, “Does Rapunzel get to see the lights on her birthday?”

Ladybug turns around to look at him. “Well, yes—”

He beams. “Then we can just finish it next time.”

His expression is bright and happy and genuine, enough that Ladybug finds herself relaxing. “I’m sorry we couldn’t finish it,” she tells him.

“It’s okay.” Chat tips his head up. “Honestly, this has already been the best thing that’s happened all month.”

A laugh escapes her. “It’s just a movie, Chaton.”

“Maybe for you. But I rarely get to do things like this, and it means—well, it means everything. Really. So thank you.”

He looks at her with eyes so earnest and open that her heart aches. It shouldn’t mean so much—really, this is the stuff she does with her friends on a weekly basis—and to think that he doesn’t get to…

“Let’s have a movie night once a week,” Ladybug blurts before she can lose all her courage. “We’ll catch up on all the movies you haven’t watched. If you want, that is.”

Chat Noir stands up as well, so they are shoulder to shoulder, face to face. “I’d like that,” he replies, smiling. “A lot.”

She grins back. “But next time, you’re bringing the snacks.”

#ladynoir #chat noir #ladybug #adrien agreste #fluff #literally self indulgent fluff #buggachat ily for the comic afdshflkh i couldn't stop thinking about it #my writing #mlb fic

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unmaskedagain · 5 years ago

Text

Agent Marinette

Okay I have struggled all week with a massive case of Writers block and today I beat it. This a crossover fic. Guess it by the end.

In retrospect, Marinette should’ve realized eventually other forces outside of Paris would take an interest in the masked heroine. At least they had been polite enough to wait until AFTER Hawkmoth was defeated.

Marinette was eleven when she became the hero Ladybug. And her world shattered a bit.

Marinette was fourteen when Hawkmoth was finally defeated.

Marinette was fourteen when Ladybug retired. And her world shattered again, this time a bit more.

It had taken nearly every miraculous they had to take the villain down but eventually, Gabriel Agreste was taken down, his memories of the miraculous erased. (Nathalie with him) His son Adrien Agreste surrendered his own miraculous, his position as Chat Noir, and his own memories of being a hero and everything he’d ever learned of magic and Kwami. All to prevent his father from ever learning of them again.

However, erasing his memories of his life as Chat Noir, unavoidably included erasing his memories of his friendship Ladybug, with Marinette. A friendship that had grown stronger, in and outside the mask, over fighting the evil that haunted Paris back together. Keyword: together.

On the same day, Ladybug had lost her best friend, Marinette did too. Both lost the boy she thought she’d marry one day. They could never be together. She’d have to lie to him for the rest of their lives. Marinette would never be able to do that. And she wouldn’t let Adrien’s sacrifice be in vain.

So she distanced herself from him. She couldn’t look at him without seeing Chat Noir. She couldn’t look at him, knowing she knew just about everything about him but he knew nothing about her. To him, Marinette was just some girl in his class; a sort of friend he was never really that close to.

Strangers, really.

It was why Marinette transferred out of Bustier’s class. The best thing for her heart was to stay away.

Still, she thought in a way, it was a happy ending. The best happy ending she could get. Hawkmoth was gone. Paris was safe. Ladybug was retired. Fu had reclaimed all Kwami and had disappeared. The world was good.

Until it wasn’t. Until one rainy Thursday. Her parents had gone out for a date night. They never made it home. There had been an accident. The other driver had been drunk. The funeral was on a Tuesday.

Marinette’s world had shattered once again, more than ever before.

Marinette was an orphan.

Her grandmother Gina sold the bakery, put the money from the sale and the life insurance into an account for Marinette, and moved Marinette into a nearby apartment, and then was gone. Legally, the older woman was Marinette’s guardian. But otherwise, Marinette was on her own. It was fine. Her dad had always warned her that his mom was a free spirit who never liked to be tied down.

She would talk with her grandmother once every other month if she was lucky. They primarily only communicated through email. The reception was spotted in the parts of the world Gina like to frequent.

At only fourteen, Marinette got used to paying bills, buying groceries, and virtually being an adult. She got used to living alone. Just like she got used to not being a hero anymore. Just like she got used to not having any friends after Lila came knocking on the class’s door.

A year later, the young girl was thriving. Her grades were at the top of the school, right after Max. She was class treasurer and on the track team, having missed the feeling of running as fast she could. She started Kuoshu classes; her mother had always wanted her to learn Chinse martial arts for defense. And Marinette missed the adrenaline she used to get after a fight.

It was a good life. A simple life. Marinette had only normal life worries to be concerned about.

…Again, she really should’ve known the other shoe would drop eventually.

Still, no fifteen-year-old girl who was minding her own business, casually walking down the street, wanted to suddenly have a black bag over her and tossed into the back of a van. In fact, it was every girl, woman, and human being’s worst nightmare.

She was tied up. She was gagged. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t hear. Marinette had no idea how much time had passed. Or where they were taking her. Or who had taken her? She fought the tears that burned in her eyes as she struggled with the bonds around her hands. No matter how hard she tried, they wouldn’t break or budge. By the coldness of it, she knew she was either in handcuff or something similar made of metal.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Marinette felt herself be picked up and carried. She struggled against her assailant. She tried to kick her with her bound legs, hit with her tied fists. Nothing.

Marinette found herself being lower onto something. A chair she quickly realizes as she pressed her back to it.

Suddenly, the metal band around her hands released. Marinette quickly pulled the black bag off her head, undid the tap around her mouth, and took the plugs out of her ears.

She was in a mostly black room that only lights overhead, a vent the size of a phone, the table she sat at, and a large mirror across from her. Marinette figured it was a two-way mirror-like on cop shows, and that she was being watched. However, what concerned her most was that there was no sign of any door. Just walls and that mirror.

There was no escape.

Marinette glared at the mirror, at whoever was behind it.

She didn’t know how long she waited as she plotted her escape. Considering all variables for when they came back to her. Would they have guns? How many people would there be? Could she fight her way out? And just who her kidnappers could be? Child traffickers? Serial killer? Her past enemy, Hawkmoth, comes back for revenge? Who?

When a portion of the wall, next to the mirror opened, Marinette tried not to flinch back in surprise.

In walked a man at least twice her age. He wore a black suit and tie with a serious expression on his face. He was handsome with short dark hair and dark eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass.

The door closed behind him once he stepped through. He said nothing as he sat down in the chair across from her. They started at each other silently.

Marinette cracked first, “Who are you? What do you want? Where am I?”

A small smile appeared on the man’s face, “You’re a very hard girl to track down, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’d have thought it would’ve been easier considering all you’ve done.” He had an American accent.

“Track? What?” Why would he want to track her down? “I didn’t do anything. Nothing! Okay?!”

He gave her a curious look, “Really? Well, I wouldn’t call saving all of Paris on a nearly everyday basis for what two years, nothing.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t try to deny it. We have pictures, videos; evidence.”

It was like someone had thrown ice water over her head. Marinette swallowed the lump that had built in her throat. “Who. Are. You.” She managed to get out.

“Me? I’m a friend,” He answered. “You can call me Black Heart.”

“Black Heart?” Marinette snorted. “You’re serious?”

“Oh because Ladybug is so much better,” He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I have questions. You’re going to answer them.”

He wanted to know about the miraculous, she guessed. Or how she got her powers. Marinette crossed her arms, “I have nothing to say.”

Black Heart chuckled and stood up. He put his hands on the table, “Listen very carefully, Marinette. Because there are only two ways we can do this.”

Marinette smirked, “Is one of them the easy way?”

A look she couldn’t recognize briefly flashed over Black Heart’s face but gone just as quick. “No,” He answered.

“Oh.”

“Who are you?” He asked her.

She paused before answering, “…My name is Marinette but you know that. I was the hero Ladybug but you know that as well.”

“What happened to HawkMoth?”

She felt fine answering that. However, she gave the same answer she gave to the press, “Hawkmoth was defeated. He was stripped of his powers and destroyed.”

“You killed him?”

It wasn’t the first time Ladybug had been asked that question. “…Yes.” She lied though it didn’t feel like much of one. Hawkmoth was dead after all.

Blackheart nodded. “What happened to Chat Noir? And the other heroes? Dead too?”

Marinette fought to keep her face blank, her fists clenched. “Yes,” She said. “They were causalities of the final fight with Hawkmoth.” Technically not a lie. Every Parisian hero had given up their miraculous once and for all after Hawkmoth was gone. There was no need for them anymore.

The man raised an eyebrow, “Gabriel Agreste is still very much alive last I checked.” She reared back as if slapped. “So is Adrien is otherwise known as Chat Noir. Alya Cesaire aka Rena Rouge, her turtle boyfriend. The monkey guy. The tiger. The snake; Luka, I believe. All alive and kicking. So much for that lie…”

“They were retired,” Marinette growled. “Permanently.”

“Truth,” Blackheart nodded. “How did you erase their memories?”

It had taken the combined power of Fu, Marinette, Tikki, Wayzz, and Plagg to do it. “I didn’t do anything.”

Black Heart gave her a hard look, “Where do your powers come from?”

Marinette smiled, “I don’t have any powers.”

“Fine! Where do Ladybug’s powers come from?”

“I am Ladybug,” She told him. “And Ladybug doesn’t have any powers.”

“You mean anymore?”

Marinette nodded slowly.

Black Heart sat back in his chair, “You’re telling me that you busted your ass saving Paris for two years, only to have your powers taken from you? You were tossed to the side just like that? Like you were nothing? I’m supposed to believe that.”

“I wasn’t needed anymore.” By anyone.

“You took down one of the biggest threats to this world,” The man said. “You fought. You bled. You sacrificed everything. From what our intelligence has gathered, you even gave up the love of your young life. Only to be cast aside; alone, forgotten, abandoned…”

“That’s not what happened,” Marinette shook her head.”

“You weren’t useful anymore,” Blackheart tutted. “So you were thrown away; left to fend for yourself in a cold, cruel world. No friends, no family,”

“Shut up,” Marinette whispered.

The man leaned forward, “How many internships did you turn down because you were too busy being a hero? Two? Three?”

“Shut up!” She said louder.

“Wait, it was five. That’s right.” He continued on as if she said nothing. “Five internships with some of the biggest names in fashion today. And you gave it up. Now what you have to show for it? Nothing!” He said. “You live this mundane life halfheartedly, struggling to find your place again, trying to get back even a fraction of the feeling you had when you fighting for this world!”

“SHUT UP!” Marinette roared.

Black Heart shook his head, “I asked you who you are. But I already know who you are. I know who you were. You were a hero, a martyr, a leader, a little princess who believed in fairytales and the goodness of people. You were someone who believed this world could still be saved! So I just want to know three things. I have three questions to ask you and then you never have to see me again! You can go back to pretending to be whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.”

“What?” Marinette asked. “What could you possibly want to know?” Need to know that he didn’t already. “Huh? Just tell me!”

“Do you still believe this world can be saved?”

Silence.

“…What?”

“Answer the question.”

Marinette blinked, “Yes. I do.”

“Are you still willing to fight for it?” Black Heart asked.

“Always.”

He smiled, and leaned back in his chair, “Last question… What do you know about Shield?”

Well, that was a twist. Marinette’s eyes went wide. She knew a lot about shield. More than any normal teenage girl should. But a former Ladybug had been an Agent. And Tikki told her everything... It was founded by Peggy Carter and Howard Stark. Shield started the Avengers. They had been protecting the world for decades.

“A lot,” Marinette answered. “What do you want?

The man gave her a small smile, “World peace.”

The doors of the room opened again in walked a beautiful young woman with long hair a bright smile on her face, “You done traumatizing the poor girl yet.”

The man groaned, “Dammit, Skye.”

Marinette officially joined Shield the next day.

Skye showed her the ropes and explained until she garnered some trust, most would give her their full name; maybe only even their code name.

In another life, Skye hadn’t joined Shield until she was well into her twenties. In this life, she was recruited by a woman named Hill as soon as she graduated high school. It had been nearly ten years since. Skye had met Black Heart when she was about three years in, and they had disliked each other.

Now they mostly tolerated the others’ existence. Only really dealing with each other on missions.

Skye would be gone the next day. And Marinette would only see her once in a blue moon.

Marinette would withdraw from school and finish her education taught by some of the greatest minds in the world. She would give up her apartment, and leave Paris. She would call her grandmother one last time for what would be months to let her know she was going to travel the world; her grandmother was pleased as she had done the same when she was not much older than Marinette. Gina disregarded the fact that she had been a legal adult at the time.

It would be the last call she made from her phone. The line was disconnected and the phone tossed.

Then she visited the place that had been her parents’ bakery, not their graves; because she would rather remember them alive, happy, and loving, then dead in the ground. And she told them goodbye.

Before leaving Paris for good, she dropped off a perfectly wrapped green and black present off at the Agreste home. Adrien’s birthday was coming up. Inside the gift box was a black leather jacket with cat-shaped buttons. She handed the gift to Nathalie.

This time, however, Marinette was quick to tell the older woman that MDC was sewn inside on the jacket; multiple times.

Then she walked away; not looking back once.

It was the last thing Adrien would ever get from her. The last thing he would unknowingly have of Chat Noir. Ironically, the masked hero the blond had come to idolize in recent times.

The jacket was all she could give him of his as a hero, and not even a fraction of all she had wished to give him.

One day he would forget her altogether. One day she would just be a random former classmate of his whose name he couldn’t quite remember.

However, Marinette would never forget Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir. She would remember when Adrien was Chat Noir, one of the greatest heroes Paris would ever know. And she would remember Chat Noir was Adrien, and Adrien proved to be a greater hero than even he ever dared dream Chat Noir would be.

Marinette would remember because she owed him that much at least.

The night she left Paris would be the last time she dreamed of a life with Adrien. A life where they got to grow old together; one where wedding bells were heard. And he’d kiss her every time she left. And she’d kiss him every time she came back. A life where they got to see where their love would take them, and maybe one day hear the pitter-patter of little feet on their floor.

A life where Marinette did actually become a fashion designer. A life where she married Adrien, Alya was still her best friend, her parents were alive, the world was good and kind, and two heroes got the finale they deserved.

A life where love was enough, and they got their happy ending. The forever they never got would haunt her forever.

Marinette was fifteen when she went she joined shield and went back to doing what she did best; helping people, saving the world.

Marinette was fifteen when she became an Agent of Shield.

Marinette was fifteen when she learned how to shoot a gun.

Marinette was fifteen when she joined Black Hear became her mentor. The training had been a killer. More than once, Marinette had nearly quit.

Blackheart would just shake his head at her and say, “Life is tough, kid,” He’d give her an easy smile. “But so are you.”

Marinette smiled.

“You and me?” Grant said. “We’re the same. We’re Kevlar. We do whatever it takes to complete the mission. We get the job done. Keep our feelings and emotions; personal wants and desires in check. For the greater good. Its who we are. Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes,” Marinette repeated back. “But that doesn’t mean we have to shut people out; each other out.”

“Yes, it does,” Grant said firmly. “Yes, I do.” He stopped talking and look Marinette in the eyes, “There are things about me you don’t know. I’ve done things I… Thing you wouldn’t like if you knew.”

“We all have,” Marinette shrugged at her father figure. “It’s a part of the job. I get it.”

Grant smiled at her, “I know you do. I know you would. We’re the same. We know this world isn’t all happiness and rainbows but we don’t stop trying to save it. We don’t stop believing it can be saved; that what we’re doing has a purpose. But there are things I can’t tell you. Things about me… that you wouldn’t like if you knew. One day, I hope you understand though. I know we will. We’re the same. But You’re good.”

“So are you,” Marinette said. “Grant, you’re like the best guy I know. You’re good.”

“Not always,” Grant looked away. “You need to know, Marinette, I’m not a good man.”

“I believe you are.” She stated, “You can’t convince me otherwise.”

It would a year later after much trust was built, and they had gone of dozens and dozens of missions that she finally learned his real name.

Grant.

Over the next few years, Grant became like a father to her. And to him, she was like a daughter. He taught her everything he knew. Marinette did everything she could to make him proud. He made her believe that they could really save the world, change the world for the better.

Where Grant went, she followed; most of the time. Sky would slowly start to show up more and more; until it was clear she wasn’t going anyway.

Whenever she was hurt, and the mission was over, Grant would tell a story about his past.

Her favorites were the ones about a monster who loved the sky. It was clear that it was about him and Skye. “Do you want to hear a story, princess?” He smiled. “It’s about a man who struggled with his demons his entire life. Who asked for love throughout his entire life. But he never got it. Until she came. She made him feel important. She made him laugh. She made him better. She became his world.”

Marinette couldn’t understand what was stopping the two from getting together.

She met Nick Fury when she was seventeen and was sent on the first on her first solo mission.

When she was eighteen, Grant and Skye were approached by a man named Coulson. The same Coulson that had supposedly been killed by a god named Loki. The strangest part was Marinette was tapped to join too.

The team consisted of Coulson, May, Grant, Skye, Fitz, Simmons, and Marinette.

They were a team. They became a family.

However, then John Garrett was revealed to be Hydra; a man Marinette had thought she knew well. (Grant killed him. And she mourned with him the man they thought John was.)

Then project insight happened. Nick Fury was killed. Captain America exposed all of Shield in an effort to reveal Hydra.

Shield was labeled a terrorist organization.

The team was on their own.

But, Marinette thought more than once over the next coming months, at least they had each other.

They ended up at a place called Providence. They were given lie detector tests by Agent Eric Koenig. “Fury designed this himself,” The portly man said. “He wanted a lie detector Romanoff couldn’t beat.”

“Did she?” Grant asked

“Like Fury would tell!”

Marinette sat in the machine and tried to relax.

“We’re going to start with some easy question,” Eric told her. “Can I have your full name?”

“Marinette Clarissa Dupain-Cheng.”

“Eye color?”

“Blue,” Marinette stated.

The agent nodded, “Have you ever been married?”

Marinette shook her head, “No.”

“Please list your immediate living family.”

“My grandmother Gina,” Marinette answered. “My grandfather. I considered my team my family though.”

“What’s the difference between an egg and a rock?”

Marinette gave him an “Are you Serious” look, “One's food, ones a weapon.”

“Have you ever heard of project insight?”

“Never.”

“Have you ever had contact with Alexander Pierce.”

“I have,” She answered honestly. “Once. Just after the New York Invasion. Agent Hill introduced me.”

“You wash up on a desert island, alone. Sitting in the sand is a box. What’s in the box?”

“How big is the box?” Marinette asked curiously. “How did it get there? What island am I on? Am I near freshwater.”

“Just say the first thing that comes to your mind, Marinette,” He told her. “What’s in the box?”

“A pair of earrings.”

Eric gives her a funny look but notes her age and shrugs it off. Spy teen girls were still teen girls, after all. “Shield no longer exists. The agency has been labeled a terrorist organization. So why are YOU here.”

Marinette thought about the question. She had thought about it before. Shield had fallen. No one knew who was or wasn’t Hydra. She should’ve been gone in the wind. However, she had never even considered it. “Shield is all I have. Ward, Skye, Coulson, May, Simmons, Fitz, Trip; they’re all I have. They’re my family.” She told him. “And truthfully, I joined Shield because I believe this world is worth saving. I believe it can still be saved. I believe that it is good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.”

“I love Lord of the Rings,” Agent Eric Koenig grinned. “Let’s get you a Lanyard, Agent Dupain-Cheng.

While Skye, May, and Grant stayed at Providence, Marinette joined Coulson and the others.

When Marinette returned to the base after saving the Cellist lady. The bus was gone. May was gone. Grant and Skye were gone.

What was left of the team had debated long about what had happened; why the three had left.

When Coulson said, “Worst case… We've had a wolf in the herd the whole time.”

Marinette didn’t believe that at first. Not until she heard the scream. Saw Agent Eric Koenig’s body. Saw the word written on the picture.

Ward is Hydra.

“Not Ward,” Fitz said.

“Not Ward,” Marinette repeated. “Not Ward.” Skye was wrong. She had to be wrong. Ward couldn’t be Hydra. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Then Simmons gave the analyze of Agent Eric Koenig’s murder.

“Ward did this,” Simmons said.

In a fury, Fitz smashed a few things.

Marinette could only stare in space as the words penetrated her mind.

Ward is Hydra.

The man she thought she knew the best.

The man she had sworn her loyalty to, had given all her trust to, had loved like a father.

The man who had gotten her to swear loyalty to Shield.

Grant Ward had been her S.O. Her mentor. Her leader. Her captain.

Grant Ward was Hydra.

And just like that, Marinette’s world shattered again.

And just like that, everything she ever thought she believed in was questioned.

It would be months before she saw him again, and by then it had been confirmed without a doubt Grant Ward was Hydra. He was the enemy.

He would try to kill the team multiple times. Grant Ward would do everything he could to get her alone to speak with and or to Skye. Like he could change their minds. He had gone full psycho Hydra and didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

Marinette was captured by Hydra not long before her twenty-first birthday.

She was tied up and chained to a desk.

Grant Ward walked in with an easy smile on his face, “Marinette. This brings back memories.”

“Old Blackheart himself,” The bluenette hissed back. “Good to see you again. Oh, Wait! As your lot puts; Hail Hydra, right?”

He nodded and sat down across from her, “Ladybug.”

“Just kill me,” Marinette shrugged. “I won’t tell you anything. You know I won’t. I won’t Hydra. You and the rest of the freaking Nazi can go to hell.”

Ward looked shocked, “Kill you? You really think I would… I would never hurt you, Marinette!” He told her. “You have to know that. I would never want to hurt you.”

“Maybe not want to,” Marinette looked him dead in the eye. “But you will. All apart of the job, right.”

“Do you think this was easy for me?” Grant asked. “You of all people understand how hard it was; the impossible decisions that had to be made. You know what it's like to make a choice that breaks you inside. But we make them anyway. I made them anyway. Because that’s what I do. What we do.”

Marinette shuddered. “A Double Agent. Do what needs to be done. Betray everyone who loves you, cares about you. Because we don’t matter, only the mission does. Right? That’s what you tried to train into me; anything for the mission.”

“No!” Ward shouted. “That’s who you were before I ever met you. You don’t get to put that on me. That’s why Shield wanted you. Because you did whatever it took to stop Hawkmoth for good. Whatever it took for the greater good. That’s how I knew we were the same.”

Silence.

Ward stood up, “You’re good. I get that. I’ve always known that. But you understand me. You’re a soldier. I’m a soldier.”

“You are a monster,” Marinette said. “You finally convinced. There is no good for you.”

Coulson, May, Lincoln, and Skye rescued her not long after.

Grant and Marinette would face off with each other multiple; fighting to the death; fighting for the cause.

Then one day, Simmons would be gone, Coulson would go after her, and when they came back; Coulson would tell her Grant Ward was dead. He killed him.

Marinette wouldn’t ever admit it but her world shattered just a bit.

However, Marinette would see Grant again but he wasn’t Grant. He was hive. And Hive would nearly take Skye from the team. He would take Lincoln.

After months of fighting the monster for months; doing whatever it took to bring him down; Lincoln, a pretty blond man with light-colored eyes who dared to be a hero, sacrificed himself.

And for the first time in years, Marinette was reminded of Adrien Agreste. She had thought about him occasionally, sure. But seeing Skye cry over Lincoln had reminded her just deeply of her own loss. And remember that she was the one who erased his memories. He wanted the last thing he saw to be her before he never remembered her again.

Marinette was twenty-two when she went to the funeral of Grant Ward. It was in Paris. Marinette was the only one who went. There was nobody to bury but still, Marinette had him laid to rest, not too far away from her parents.

No matter how hard she had tried, Marinette couldn’t find it in her to hate Grant. She had loved him too much. He had been such a big part of who she was.

And she owed it to him to finally see him laid to rest. It was her duty, she supposed.

That was why she buried him in the once place she once thought she’d never return. The place where she once dreamed of another life.

As she stared at his grave, once again she dreamed about another life.

A life where Hydra had never returned. Shield had never fallen. The Avengers weren’t torn apart in a civil war. The world didn’t seem to always be on fire. Skye was still an Agent. Fitz and Simmons were married. Tripp was alive. Lincoln was alive. And Grant Ward was good.

It was a nice dream but she’d leave it in Paris with all rest of her childhood’s hopes, wishes, and dreams.

“You were right,” She told Grant, speaking directly to his headstone as if he was there. “We are the same. I do understand. I’ve always understood. In the end, we always do our duty. Its what defines us. Rest in Peace, Ward.”

Marinette walked out of the cemetery with her head held high. She would stop for ice cream, and cross paths with a tall, handsome, green-eyed, blond man. He’d look right through her.

And it only bothered her a little.

Months after she left Paris again, for good she swore, she would hear on the news about the untimely death of Gabriel Agreste.

She would notify an hour later that Master Fu has surfaced in Paris again. The man had been watched by Shield for years.

She would be told that Master Fu had been spotted around Agreste home.

Marinette didn’t blink twice. It wouldn’t matter. Everyone had moved on. Adrien had moved. Marinette had moved on. And as far as the world was concerned Marinette Dupain-Cheng was dead. She had died years ago.

Seven months later, Coulson would bring her in to help train a new recruit. She would walk into the training room of the bus and see a tall, a tall, handsome, green-eyed, blond man with hope clear on his face, standing next to Coulson, looking at her like he was seeing the sun for the first time in years.

“Kitty?” Marinette whispered.

“My lady.”

Marinette was twenty-three when her world shattered yet again.

#ml salt #Marinette deserves better #marinette dupain cheng #grant ward #agents of shield #Skyeward #adrien agreste #adrien deserves better

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consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

Text

Small Buff Girl Sightings Ch. 1

Summary: The first thought that comes to mind as he looks at the scene in front of him is: wow, she’s cute. The second thought is: holy shit, did she just flip a six foot, two hundred fifty pound man into the ground without blinking an eye?

Thank goodness there’s time for second… and third.. And fourth impressions?

Seriously, how many creepy people and criminals does this girl deal with on a daily basis?

1(you are here) | 2 | 3 | ao3

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Damian Wayne is sure that if his elder siblings were watching him right now, they would be screeching at him to go help the girl. But-- well. His siblings and his father aren’t watching, and he isn’t sure whether or not the girl needs his help. The weirdly hooded man who is rapidly closing in on her might just live in the same direction. Surely, this time, his instincts are wrong. He’s only following them for peace of mind. Nothing is going to happen.

Otherwise known as: Damian isn’t particularly feeling up to saving another girl outside of his Robin costume and then being come on to. Why girls always have to have a Thing for people who saved them, Damian will never understand. He can’t imagine attempting a relationship with somebody who saved him, though admittedly the pool of candidates of people who are superior to him in capability is small, and far too annoying or old for him to ever consider dating them. And even thinking about having a relationship with somebody who couldn’t take care of themselves gives him the chills.

This leads to a very contemplative two minutes of walking the same path that the girl and the hooded person were taking-- he is not following them--until the girl who is being stalked darts into an alleyway. Of course, the hooded person follows her.

Is she trying to get herself killed? Damian can’t believe the sheer idiocy of the girl. At least the last girl he saved hadn’t done anything as stupid; her attacker cornered her near her home. Gotham girls know better than to duck into random alleyways. There is too much crime in Gotham for anybody with self respect to be so dumb.

With a sigh, and a wish that his brothers and father hadn’t beat a moral conscious into him, he lopes over to the alleyway, expecting to have to break up whatever futile struggle the girl put up with her stalker, or maybe even knock out the guy because by now, she must either be unconscious or on her way to other unpleasant circumstances.

Except.

By the time he gets over to the alleyway, the girl walks out unscathed, phone pressed to her cheek.

“Yes, you should check 12th arrondissement, two streets down from the Opera Bastille. He’s 6 foot, blonde haired and brown eyed. Wearing a grey hoodie and adidas.” The girl brushes past him, blinked at his appearance, then continued on the phone. “No problem, officer.”

Damian looks into the alleyway and there the man is, head lolled to one side. Unconscious, probably. His hands are tied up with a pink plastic zip tie. He looks out of the alleyway, eyes trailing after the girl who just left. She barely reaches his shoulder. Maybe, Damian thinks drily, Parisian girls are different.

At least Damian won’t get another adoring fangirl today.

Damian is sitting at a coffee shop across from the Louvre. It’s overpriced, and the coffee tastes awful, but it’s still coffee, and he’s tired. He’s here to check out the akuma that the Paris media keep reporting about, even though the Justice league of America shouldn’t have to deal with Europe’s problems, and also largely believed that it was a publicity stunt on Mayor Bourgeois' behalf.

Now, the Justice League of America isn’t really sure what is happening, but surely it can’t be that bad if the city has no damage, right?

What a joke. Damian has been here three days (count them-- three) and he is almost sure that he has been transported into some alternate dimension where some little kid’s imagination went wild and plopped the ever loving conundrum of Paris, France into Damian’s hands.

On the first day he arrived, there was a pigeon akuma-- apparently, one of the more frequent ones that popped up. Ladybug-- one of two consistent Parisian Heroes-- made quick work of him once she arrived on the scene, but it took her a while to arrive. Almost a whole half hour. Which meant that the streets of Paris were filled with bird poop and flooded with more pigeons than Damian knew existed, and he lived in Gotham. The other hero, Chat Noir, arrived after Ladybug, but handled the situation more warily. He later found out that this was due to the superhero being allergic to feathers, as witnessed by a video on this site called the Ladyblog.

Due to some freak magic power called the Miraculous Cure that Ladybug called after her battles, the streets had been blessedly cleaned, and the pigeons flew back to their mostly hidden existence. The world was right, once more. Then, on the second day, he tried and failed to save that weird girl who knocked out a man who had a good hundred pounds on her. He’s not sure that tried and failed is applicable to the situation, as the girl seemed competent enough to take care of an issue like that on her own.

Today, another akuma appeared. His name is Deliverer, a postman who had one too many customers complain about a package not being delivered in a timely manner.

Damian isn’t really sure how he felt about having people turning into villains over such trivial things. He is also no longer sure whether he is the best choice for this mission. His emotions tend to run hot, and there is the chance that he might become compromised. Because if there are people out there turning into villains over not being able to feed some pigeons, there is no way that Damian’s own annoyance with his family and the random people on the streets won’t be taken advantage of. However, out of his family, it’s not like there’s any better choice. Dick, maybe, but he’s busy with Kor’i and his daughter, and they won’t want to move to France. And he doubts that the superheroes of Paris want a metahuman trying to solve the case in Paris after seeing how much damage a normal citizen can do when akumatized.

It only takes ten minutes for Ladybug and Chat Noir to arrive on the scene this time. Whether it is because it is a new akuma, or whether it is because they were closer to the scene of the crime, Damian can only guess. He thinks it to be a combination of the two; Mr. Pigeon is a very common akuma and the people deal with his issues quite often, thus he is probably lower on the priority list. The heroes have their own lives to deal with, Damian is sure.

In any case, Damian rushes to the akuma when he gets an alert from the Ladyblog and is able to catch the tail end of a battle where Ladybug doesn’t even have to use her Lucky Charm. She just takes the clipboard after some bizarre yoyo moves and snaps the clipboard over her knee. When the butterfly flies out of the clipboard, she purifies it. Easy breezy, and no involvement from Chat Noir, yet again. The cat looks tired and Ladybug says something to him, her posture reminiscent of a mother scolding her child, after which he flees the scene.

Then, Damian gets caught up in a wave of exhaustion. Forgoing sleep for the past two days trying to catch himself up on the situation in Paris before making any major reports back to the league will do that. He needs coffee, badly, which is why he finds himself in this tourist trap coffee shop with some of the worst coffee-- wait. That girl seems familiar.

He spends a few seconds trying to place her. Short, pig-tails, part asian, blue hair and blue eyes. The girl he saw coming out of the alleyway yesterday. Of course. She is on her phone walking slowly and frowning, purse hanging at her side. Damian traces her movements. She is naturally graceful, but closes in on herself. He looks a little closer. Her eyes look red. Perhaps she is dealing with the aftermath of yesterday’s situation.

From the side, a guy darts out at her, reaching for her purse. The girl drops her phone to the floor in shock, clutches her purse, and then side-swipes the guy. A hand to his neck, a foot to his knees, and then her arms pulling his behind his back. She pulls a zip tie from her purse and ties his hands up, then picks up her phone almost exasperatedly and before calling someone.

Vaguely curious, Damian picks up his coffee and approaches the girl and criminal. Several others have done the same, only to be waved off with a blindingly bright smile and a yes, she’s fine, thank you very much.

“Need help?” More of a courtesy than anything else.

“No thanks, Monsieur.” The girl looks down at the time on her phone, then scrunches her face up. Freckles dot her pale skin. A text message alert from her phone causes her to scowl, and she looks down at her phone, then back up at Damian.

“Actually, could you do me a favor? I’ve really got to get back with my class, and I don’t really want to leave this guy in the middle of the street like this. I just called the police, and they should be here any minute. Stay with him?”

It’s not like his research on Ladybug and Chat Noir can’t wait a few minutes.

“Sure.”

Then, the girl runs off without another glance backwards. True to her word, the police do arrive a few minutes later.

“Where’s the girl that called?” The policeman asked with a furrowed brow.

“She had to leave.” Damian eyes the man, who has barely looked at him. The policeman is assessing the scene, taking in the handiwork of the pigtailed girl.

“Half-asian, blue eyes, freckles?”

“Yes.”

The policeman handcuffs the criminal. “That poor girl. She always seems to attract these street thugs. It’s really a blessing that she can take care of herself.”

This piques Damian’s interest. “This happens often?”

“She’s almost like an urban legend, at this point. Whenever we find a criminal tied up with a neon pink zip tie, we know it’s her. A real shame, too. She’s such a nice girl.”

He’s not sure if nice was the word to use. She looked slightly stressed and harried. Polite enough, but she certainly has no trouble putting guys twice her size down.

“Well, thank you for your help.” The policeman tips his cap and makes his way to the patrol car.

Damian goes back to drinking his coffee and scrolling through the Ladyblog on his phone.

“I’ve heard you do this quite often.” Damian appears at the girl’s side like a ghost, but she doesn’t jump. Doesn’t even flinch. Just takes a step back to reposition herself and gives him a side eye. Tactically, a good decision if he is another potential attacker. She created just enough distance that it would make it harder to attack her, but had moved in a smooth fashion that said she wasn’t going to run and was prepared to stand her ground. Her body half faces him, like she is ready to put up her guard at any moment.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Her victim this time is unconscious. Damian isn’t exactly sure what happened, but the quivering girl only a few feet away from them made him think that the girl in front of him has a bit of vigilante in her, because it is clear that this time she hadn’t acted in self defense.

In an act of goodwill, Damian takes his hands out of his pockets slowly, showing that he doesn’t have anything to hide. In response, the girl-- who Damian mentally decides to call Pigtails, since she’s had the same ridiculously childish hairstyle for their past three encounters-- relaxes, just a little, and turns her attention to the crying girl instead.

“Do you want me to call the police?”

Pigtails eyes flicker towards the man on the ground, who is what Damian approximates to be six foot three and two hundred and fifty pounds, and then towards the crying girl looks to be in her mid twenties.

Pigtails hasn’t tied this one up, yet, but she has flipped him onto his stomach. Judging by the lingering look that she gives the man’s unbound hands, and the ziptie that she pulls out of her small purse, she’s ready and willing to tie him up at the slightest movement, or at the other girl’s command.

“I’m going to tie him up, okay?”

The other girl manages a yes, please. And so, Pigtails brandishes her ziptie, directs Damian to call the police; tell them they’re on Barbes Boulevard.

Damian assesses the situation before the operator comes on. The would-be victim is somewhere around twenty four, is slender and full of what his brother, Dick, would call French girl charm before getting hit by Cass or Barbara. She has brown hair that’s a mess on the left side of her hair, probably from the man grabbing her on that side, and is lightly tanned. There are bruises on her wrist and on her cheek that are quite visible and continuing to darken.

Now that Pigtails has tied him up, Damian nudges the man’s face with his foot to see what he looks like. Average looking at best, and he reeks of alcohol. Damian crinkles his nose. Midday drinking is not a good look on anyone. His clothes are also cheap. Fast fashion, but bad.

Then, there’s Pigtails herself. Evidently she trusted him enough to look after the brute, because after giving him a once over and nodding, she goes over to the other girl to comfort her. Damian is sure that Pigtails can’t be much older than himself, but he's not sure. She has a sort of timelessness about her, between the lightness in her step and the sharp, intelligent look in her eyes. Her sense of fashion is simple but chic, and whatever she is wearing looks pretty high end. Designer, even.

After relaying the information that he has gathered to the operator, he is told to please wait there with the victim and the attacker, and if he could have the other party involved stay there as well, that would be fantastic.

Pigtails is surprisingly good at calming people down. The other girl seemed seconds away from a complete breakdown and was rocking back and forth, muttering to herself before Pigtails started talking to her. Already, the other girl’s crying turns to hiccups, and then stops. She is then embraced by Pigtails, circles rubbed soothingly on her back, and a gentle smile that makes Damian purse his lips. He doesn’t see that kind of smile often in Gotham. Everybody is harder there, less willing to help. If they see somebody in danger, most times citizens hurry on their way because they don’t want to get involved. When citizens do get involved, their aftercare is fairly rough, if there is any aftercare at all. Even as a vigilante, Robin didn’t often comfort victims afterwards. He helped them to police stations or the hospital occasionally, but never stopped to talk with them.

By the time the police get there, Pigtails has the girl standing with a watery smile on her face. What a feat. Damian wonders, briefly, if having Pigtails’ social capabilities would help victims back in Gotham.

“Ah, Marinette,” the police officer smiles warmly. “We meet again.”

“Officer Raincomprix,” Pigtails inclines her head.

The officer is of stocky build, red headed and green-eyed. He cuffs the man, lugs him to the back seat of his cruiser, locks the door, and then comes back out. “I’d like to take your statements, now.”

Damian learns that the attacker, Fraser Barbot, was in several of Nicolette Deanne’s master classes this year. Both were studying business with an emphasis on fashion, which resulted in a lot of time spent together. Fraser thought that a relationship was the inevitable next step. She refused, because besides their master’s emphasis, they didn’t really have much in common. She also just wasn’t interested in him. He became slightly more hostile to her after her rejection. Then, as the months went by, they started vying for a lot of the same job opportunities. Nicolette had gotten the most prestigious one, and had many other companies attempting to persuade her into joining their business instead. Fraser had gotten very few, and was convinced that Nicolette had stolen those job opportunities away from him, had seduced her potential employers, and asked her why she wouldn’t do him if she was so willing to put out.

That was when Marinette had come in. She was walking to a fabric store when she heard the commotion and saw Fraser hitting Nicolette. By the time she got over to them, Nicolette had already acquired several bruises on her arms, shoulder, and face. After arriving, she promptly knocked him out.

By the time the three of them finish their statements, nearly ten minutes have passed, and Officer Raincomprix bids them farewell.

“If you ever feel like you’re in danger again, Miss Deanne, feel free to call. Since you want to press charges, we’ll be in contact with you soon. Call us if more than three days go by without hearing from us. A taxi has been called for you, so you can get wherever you were going in peace.”

Officer Raincomprix turns to Marinette and Damian with a slightly sunnier disposition. “And thank you two for helping. Especially you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. If you ever change your mind about wanting to go into law enforcement, just give me a call. I should really have Sabrina do whatever training you’re doing, because it’s clearly effective!”

Marinette laughs. “The bakery is magic. Between lifting bags of flour, running around the city for deliveries, and Maman’s cooking, anybody could do what I do. I’ve heard a lot of good things about the studio down the street from our school, though, so you could have her look into that.”

This, Damian thinks, is such a bald-faced lie he almost chokes on his own spit. There is no sort of magic food that imbues a person with the ability to fight like Pigtails does and lifting flour bags in a bakery doesn’t suddenly allow people to take down people with ease. She has to have had some professional training, though if he is being honest, her movements feel like they have more of an origin in street fighting than they do in any martial arts.

She’s remarkably good at lying, mixing jokes with statements that had the possibility of truth. Maybe Damian is just being paranoid. Maybe she trained at some studio that she didn’t want to mention and the studio taught amazing self defense. Maybe she is just an excellent study. Somehow, Damian doubts that was the truth of the matter, but there isn’t much of a reason for Damian to spend his precious time determining the reason why this girl lies to policemen. It’s her business. It doesn’t concern him.

Then, Officer Raincomprix heads back to the police cruiser and Nicolette gets into the taxi she ordered for herself, looking worlds better. Marinette turns to him with a smile. The smile is so blindingly bright and pure that he suspects it lets the girl get away with a lot of things. “Thanks for the save. It was a lot easier to calm Nicolette down since you handled the call. I’m Marinette, it’s nice to meet you.”

Damian nods in return to her wave and smile. “No problem. I guess this answers my earlier question. You do get caught up with criminals quite often.”

She flushes, and it makes the freckles on her pale skin show even more. “What do you mean by that?”

“You seemed to be on very good terms with that police officer.”

“Oh, that. He’s a classmate’s dad. I’ve seen him around plenty of times.” She waves him off.

A very good liar, indeed. Pigtails keeps to half truths and vague statements. Damian gets the feeling that she definitely saw him more often in the capacity of a police officer than he did as a friend’s father. Understandable to lie to him, though. He is just a stranger, and he certainly doesn’t go around telling every person on the street his life story. Maybe Pigtails values privacy, just like he does.

The movement of the police cruiser catches his eye. Fraser has woken up, and he is not happy about being handcuffed in a police cruiser; they can hear him screaming at Officer Raincomprix from the street. Marinette’s eyes jump to the cruiser as well, eyes narrowing as she sees a butterfly approach the cruiser.

“Oh, for--” Marinette glances at Damian, at the butterfly, and then at Fraser. She makes a split decision. “Come on, let’s get out of here. This is not going to be pretty.”

“What do you--” Pigtails is pulling his arm with more strength than he thought possible. If this is just her pulling him, it’s no small wonder that she fares so easily against all her opponents. She definitely has strength behind her small frame.

“Fraser is probably going to get akumatized and we have to get you to the nearest shelter. Then, you’re going to wait there until the all-clear alert is given, got it?” She pushes him into a building, says by way of explanation to the bewildered looking employees, “Akuma,” and then rushes off, saying, “I’m going to go home, because clearly I’m not going to be able to go shopping for fabric today.”

Damian doesn’t stay in the shelter that Pigtails has so kindly guided him to, and there are a few people who look at him in confusion; people should be entering the building if there’s an akuma attack, not leaving. But Damian has a job to do and watching the battles up close is much better than watching the footage on the Ladyblog, which, in recent years, has turned into little more than poor speculations and attempts to stoke relationships between heroes that haven’t been used in years. When he looks at the information the website had up years ago, Damian finds a bunch of interviews that clearly haven’t been fact checked done with a girl named Lila, who is in the class he’s going to be transferring into, and despite the fact that they’ve been taken down since then, he doesn’t trust most of the Ladyblog’s information without video evidence. Not the most reliable news source about akuma, however, most other blogs he found didn’t have any videos taken up close. The older footage of past battles on the Ladyblog were pretty good quality, but they had gotten worse and worse, which meant that Damian and the Justice League didn’t have a clear picture about the heroes’ or villain’s capabilities.

By the time Damian arrives, back on the scene, Ladybug is already there in her red and black spotted glory. She has pulled Officer Raincomprix to safety.

“I am Shackled! Burdened by unfair double standards that allow incompetent tramps to get jobs before other, clearly more superior candidates do and by the corrupt justice system that wants me to go to jail, I desire what I should have been given to begin with! The affections of ladies clearly below me, and jobs that were made for me.” Convenient. If every villain explains their modus operandi to the heroes, it is probably easier to take them down. “Give me your Miraculous, Ladybug!”

The hero scoffs, avoids the chains that Shackled controls, and crouches atop a car a fairly good distance away.

Chat Noir lands, quick to make a pun. “If you feel so tied down by society, why don’t you just bug off? No woman wants to deal with somebody who has such a su-paw-riority complex.”

Ladybug rolls her eyes, but allows the pun. “Chat Noir’s right. You need to get taught a lesson on ethics and morality. If a woman got a job and you didn’t, that just means she’s better than you. Your interviewers probably saw that you had an awful attitude and work ethic. Nobody wants such a toxic person in their work environment.”

“Don’t you mean clawful, m’lady?”

“Chat,” Ladybug reprimands. She tosses her yoyo in the air. “Let’s get this over with. Dealing with misogynistic akumas is annoying. Just talking to them uses up all of my common sense.”

She throws her yoyo in the air, and calls, “Lucky Charm!”

A pack of zipties falls from the sky. Ladybug groans. “You have got to be kidding me. Zip ties? Really? You couldn’t have given me anything else? This is going to take forever. Chat, grab some of his chains and zip tie them together.”

“You’ve got to be yanking my chain, m’lady. We can just take him out without using the Lucky Charm.”

“No, the akuma is in the chain that’s between his handcuffs. And we can’t get there unless we immobilize all of these.” She gestures around wildly, then begins the process of grabbing chains and zip tying them together. As she continues to tie more and more together, it begins to get harder and harder for Shackled to move them as he wants, and a butterfly mask flashes over the akuma’s face.

After almost thirty minutes of tying and avoiding the few free flying chains that there are left, Chat Noir and Ladybug finally get all of the chains in one messy bundle that is too heavy for Shackled to control. At one point in the battle, Ladybug darts towards Chat Noir, a concerned look on her face, but he brushes her off and they continue working. Chat Noir cataclysms the chain between Shackled’s hands, and sure enough, a butterfly flies out. Damian watches as Ladybug shoves the butterfly into her yoyo and feels his eye twitch as the black-purple butterfly comes out white. He hates magic. It makes things so much more complicated than they should be.

“Bien Joue,” the two superheroes say to each other before heading off in opposite directions.

Damian sticks to his first thought. Whatever is going on in Paris is definitely the equivalent of some kid having a series of very weird dreams.

______________________________________________________________________

All the way up to ch 4 is already posted on ao3! I’ll be posting this fic daily up until i catch up :) also how do you decide where to put the keep reading for all you experienced tumblr users? idk where a good place to break is

#miraculous ladybug #daminette #dc #mlb x dc #sbgs #ch 1 #maribat #original content #adrien agreste #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne

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hcm92literature · 3 years ago

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Chapter six - Chat Noir’s Declaration

A Cat and A Prince Master Page

Read on AO3

My Miraculous Ladybug blog

Author’s Notes: *Gasp* whoever saw this coming?

Two months had passed since Ladybug and Chat Noir’s first mission together and their confidence and trust in each other had grown so that they had become a formidable team. Marinette had even noticed her magical energy had begun to grow, allowing her to heal and shield more and more soldiers, including her paladin and herself. She marvelled at the effect her partnership with Chat was having on her. And, come to think of it, on Chat. He was nigh on untouchable on the battlefield, moving so quickly that if you blinked you would miss him, and his strength was nothing to sniff at either. He was, however, allowing these improvements to go to his head, as his jokes were becoming almost unbearable. He also seemed incapable of controlling his flirting; complementing his lady, bringing her flowers and organising small picnics for her on a regular basis. They were welcome distractions from the war to an extent, but Marinette couldn’t help worrying that he would eventually take it too far and they would have to have an uncomfortable conversation. She blamed herself sometimes, as she had every chance to shut him down each time he flirted, but something deep inside her revelled in the attention and she couldn’t help flirting a little in return.

Her friend Alya had noticed this on the occasions she and Nino had joined in on Chat’s picnics, and took every opportunity to tease her about it. At this particular picnic - the last they would have until they returned from their family leave - Chat was jumping between being overly flirty and withdrawing nervously, and Alya and Marinette had shared a fair few looks about it. Getting to her feet, Alya motioned for Marinette to follow her to collect a water jug from the back of the tent as Nino laughed at one of Chat’s jokes, and in hushed tones asked her what was going on.

“I have not the faintest idea.”

Alya put a hand to her chin in thought. “It seems as though he is working himself up to something.” She watched in amusement as Marinette’s shoulders hunched in worry. “Perhaps you should brace yourself for a confession?”

Marinette glared at her friend as she picked up the jug and sauntered back to her place on the blanket, then followed, barely daring to look at Chat on the way to her seat next to him. He seemed to notice this change in her demeanour and withdrew from her almost completely, instead focussing on telling Alya and Nino his most entertaining stories of Ladybug and Chat Noir on the battlefield for the rest of the meal. He had mentioned that he loved these picnics because he had never had the opportunity to do anything like it back home, and Marinette could tell he was revelling in the opportunity to talk freely and embellish his stories with silly nonsense.

When Nino yawned and announced that he was ready for sleep, Marinette jumped up quickly. She suddenly realised how odd that must have looked when she saw the expressions of her friends watching her, then pretended to yawn herself and exclaimed that they should all return to their prospective tents.

“Ladybug,” Chat stood up rather less quickly and took her hand. “Before you go… might I have a word in private?”

She shot a panicked look to Alya who shrugged nonchalantly and began packing her things. Turning back to Chat, Marinette saw an almost hurt look in his eyes and her shoulders dropped in remorse. She rubbed the back of her head and smiled nervously. “Just the one word?”

“Well, perhaps a few more than one…”

Alya and Nino waited at the tent’s entrance for Marinette to answer and she nodded. “I’ll see you back in our tent, Rena.” Alya nodded and ushered Nino out, replacing the entrance’s covering in the process, then Marinette turned back to Chat who hadn’t let go of her hand but had looked away from her. She frowned, worried that she had genuinely hurt him, and placed her free hand on his shoulder to gently turn him around, replacing her frown with a kind expression. “What words were you wanting to have with me, Kitty?”

Chat Noir faced Marinette with a somewhat sheepish expression. “As you know, I will not be taking leave to visit my father, as I am certain he would do everything in his power to prevent me from returning. And… he has a lot of power…” Marinette watched his face closely, noticing the subtle change in the way he spoke of his father, and the fear he seemed to have at the prospect of not returning. “And I have spoken with the paladin officer who… has agreed to let me continue fighting on the front line whilst you are away.”

“What?!”

Chat seemed gratified to hear the concern in her voice but remained insistant. “I cannot be expected to do nothing whilst I remain here, Ladybug. I must make myself useful, and I can only achieve that by fighting.” Marinette frowned deeply at the idea of him going to the front on his own without her there to protect or heal him, but his own face was set with determination. She looked down in resignation, hoping beyond hope that he would be alright for the two weeks she would be away; she didn’t know what she would do if she came back to learn that he was no longer there… Chat then cleared his throat and took a deep breath, taking hold of the hand that he was not already grasping, and looked down at her with a much softer expression. “My lady, I… I must say something before you go…” Marinette swallowed hard, already sure she knew what was about to come out of his mouth. “I had at first thought that I should save it until the war had ended and we could reveal our identities to each other, but now I feel that I can hold it in no longer. I l-” She saw something falter in his eyes as he gulped, took another deep breath, looked her directly in the eyes and tried again. “I am in love with you, Ladybug. I have been from the moment you first laid your hand on my heart to heal me. Your kindness, your resourceful and determined nature, and the expert way in which you handle my antics have completely bewitched me, and I grow more in love with you every day. You have probably already established this from my behaviour up until now as I have not made much of an effort to hide it…” He chuckled nervously as Marinette felt her own heart threatening to break out of her ribcage with how violently it was beating. Chat’s expression returned to worry. “Please, do not feel you have to say anything right now, though. I would rather you took some time to think about my words than rush into saying something either of us would regret… But I needed to tell you before you left in case something happens and we never see each other again. If i die-” He made shushing noises as Marinette began to protest, and dropped one of her hands in order to brush her cheek ever so gently. She rested her now free hand on his chest and felt his heart racing. “There is a possibility that I will die, Ladybug. But if I do, I will have died with no regrets having now told you how I feel.”

Marinette could feel tears stinging the corners of her eyes as she stared at Chat. She had no idea what to think of his tender declaration, but what she did know was that she would be devastated if he were to die in battle, whether she was there to protect him or not. Chat wiped away a tear that had trickled down the cheek of her mask and then kissed the hand he was still holding, bidding her goodnight and ushering her to step through the tent’s opening, though he held onto her hand for as long as he could before the covering fell back into place. She stood in the same spot for a moment longer, staring at his unmoving silhouette against the tent’s canvas, unable to grab hold of a single thought in her head to process it, before turning on her heel and running towards her own tent, tears streaming down both of her cheeks.

#hcm92literature #fanfic #AU #A Cat and A Prince #Miraculous Ladybug #Ladybug #Chat Noir #Rena Rouge #Carapace #ladynoir #adrinette

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pl-panda · 5 years ago

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Damienette arranged marriage: part 12

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9 Part 10

Part 11

Damienette arranged marriage: part 12

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

Marinette felt an excruciating pain in her chest. It was like her heart burned alive. She kicked Chat Noir right below the belt. He let go of her and stumbled back, this time falling onto the blanked an holding his manhood. Marinette also fell. A green light covered the general area of her heart.

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

The excruciating pain slowly died and light faded, but both still lingered. Marinette could feel her limbs stiffen to try and counter the pain. It was like she just survived a serious heart stroke.

She slowly managed to stand up. Chat d’amour was still lying, crying in pain from her two punches. Marinette got to the edge of the balcony and looked down. Her body was still hurting, but she managed to jump over the barrier and slide down the edge. Her beautiful red dress was dirtied and damaged, but she didn’t care. She had to get away. She had to escape. But she was still too close. She had to get down. But she was three storeys above the ground. It took her only a moment to make the decision to jump.

People who were down there watched in fear as young girl fall from the roof. Marinette had to think fast. She cursed herself internally that she left her bag at Chloe. Tikki was still there. She did not plan on leaving in this outfit. She loved the dress, but there was a need for some accessories. Specifically, a place for Tikki. Acting in panic she tried to grab herself onto some sill, but it did little to actually work. She was sure she would smash into the ground.

Hard pavement came much to fast. She only managed to slightly bend her knees and extend her legs to minimize the impact. When she came into contact, the momentum pushed her into the ground and she felt immense pain in her soles, but to her relief she was able to walk. And more importantly, to run. All of her person was full of pain and each step felt like walking barefoot on broken glass, but the fear of what would happen if the Akuma caught her won over physical discomfort. She had to get away. She had to get to the hotel. Marinette needed Tikki. And more importantly she had to check if Damian was safe. Oh Kwami! Damian! He tried to defend me and Chat threw him at the wall! He must have been hurt badly. He doesn’t have miraculous to protect him!

But what mattered most was that she had to stop Chat. She couldn’t let him harm anyone because of her. He was doing it because she rejected him. He got akumatized over the fact that Ladybug rejected her and then apparently he shifted his focus on Marinette, only for her to publicly start dating Damian! But that was no reason to wreck the whole city. To get akumatized! To try and kiss her!

She shuddered at the memory. This was not okay. Marinette remembered her panic. In the hindsight, maybe breaking his nose was not a sign enough… I will go straight to castration if it ever happens again. Great. Now I sound like Damian…

“So your mother is some cult leader that decided to play a matchmaker?” Chloe asked in disbelief. “Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! And why Dupain-Cheng? I mean I… What does she brings into it? How would your mother even know about her?”

“I am not sure.” Damian admitted. He operated on half-truths since the beginning of the talk. “Maybe that’s exactly why. Marinette has heart of gold and she doesn’t care about people’s past, their status or family. She just looks at them and what they have inside.�� He spoke from his own experience. She didn’t care that his mother was the one who forced him into this. She apologized for inconvenience she caused him.

“But why her? There must be thousands of girls like her that would entail at least some benefit…”

“I can assure you miss Bourgeois that there is no one like her.”

“I guess…“ She wanted to say more, but seeing Damian start to glare through the window angry made her stop. Now there was the brooding ball of angst she heard so much about.

The whole talk while waiting for the ambulance was taking too freaking long for his liking. They sat here for almost half an hour by now. He could only guess that Akuma attack was making things hard, but he had no idea why since no one besides him was hurt to his knowledge. It was like people stopped caring about them. He tried to call Drake again, but there was no answer whatsoever. It was almost like they were isolated from the rest of the world.

The realization dawned on him. He was a complete idiot. The idiocy on par with that of Drake. “Nobody is coming. I think I know lover cat’s powers.” He stated

“Then talk instead of sitting there like an utter idiot!”

“Isolation. He wants to have Marinette only for himself, but this idiot probably used his powers on us too!” Damian was fuming. Chat not only tried to take Marinette against her will, but his whole goal was to make her separate from everyone. Screw the rules, he would gut him and worry about the consequences later.

Standing up he felt pain rush through his leg. Damian frowned, but he used his sword in scabbard to support himself. That is until Chloe pushed him back to the bed.

“You are not going anywhere Lover Boy. Last thing I need is you making Dupain-Cheng a widow before she turns sixteen.”

“Why are you suddenly so defensive of her?” Damian scowled at the blonde. From what he knew, she was not the kind type. And he didn’t buy the sudden ‘change of heart’ thing.

“Because I don’t want to be alone! I want to have friends! I know I am utterly ridiculous, but I want to have real friends! She was ready to just forgive me and defend me! I want… I want to repay her!”

“Then man up and help me get to my room. I need to call one person who can help us.” Damian snarled. He was still unconvinced, but it seemed that it didn’t matter. It was that or leaving Marinette alone with the French Psycho #2. Blonde frowned, but helped him nonetheless.

They arrived at his room and Damian got a reinforced case from under his bed. He made sure to open it just a little bit and snatch the satelite phone and smash it back locked before Chloe saw the kevlar suit inside. It was enough revelations because he fucked up today anyway. His brothers would not let him live the fact that he revealed the marriage anyway. If he also outed himself as Robin, he would probably just return to being a hermit in the mountains. It would sure be easier than the scolding from father and jokes from his brothers.

He pulled the phone and pressed several buttons. After scanning his finger, the screen came to life. He picked the number and called. After two rings a muffled voice came from the other side.

“Yeah yeah. I need Superboy so drag your tired ass here this instant!”

“~~~~”

“I don’t care what your father said!”

“~~~~”

“Eh… My wife is in trouble… I hear one tease from you and I am asking father for Kryptonite knuckle dusters for birthday!”

There was a sound of incoming plane and suddenly someone crashed through the window. The boy wore a zipp-up jacket with Superman logo, jeans trousers and had ruffled black hair. He was about thirteen, maybe fourteen.

“‘tsup?”

“Shut up Superboy.” Damian frowned. He had to restrain himself not to out Kent in front of the irritating girl. He wished he just got Mari home when he had a chance.

“I though we were on the first-name basis Robin!”

The sound of Damian’s facepalm could be heard in Fortress of Solitude.

——————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin @novicevoice @justafanwarrior @eliza-bitch @schrodingers25

#mlb x dc #maribat au #maribat #arranged marriage au #crossover #guardian!marinette #batman #damienette #marinette x damian #league of assassins #order of the guardians #mlb #miraculous lb #miraculous ladybug

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enternalempires · 4 years ago

Text

Those Eyes

This is a Ladynoir/Adrienette fic. It has switched Miraculous and a reveal and Marinette purring, lol. Lots of fluff. Hope you enjoy! Haven’t figured out how to use links yet but my Ao3 username is the same!

We all know that Plagg with Marinette would be chaotic as all hell, like she’d mention a very very bad course of action that would have us all going ‘second-hand embarrassment, no!!’ but that sarcastic little shit of a Kwami would be like, “Yes!! Do it!!!” because like, after eons of being alive and literally killing the dinos off along with various other disasters you just learn to not care anymore. And Adrien with Tikki would be chaotic in a different way. They’d be so?? Productive??? Like, they’d agree on so much and just vibe that it would be pure sunshine magic. Like, there’s a reason why they got the humans that they did.

Marinette shrieked, scrambling past a car that was picked up and thrown in her direction— successfully dodging any debris and sharp objects left over from the Akumas wake.

At eighteen years old, she knew better than to take off her earrings.

She knew she shouldn’t have, even if it was Adrien Agreste who asked her to change them out, promising with his life (as she made him do) that they would be safe in his bag. She knew that having a photo shoot with him and she in her original MDC designs shouldn’t have made her heart flutter but it did.

They were modeling together.

God, if the fifteen-year-old her could’ve predicted this, she would’ve melted in her spot.

But she didn’t.

And she also didn’t predict that Hawkmoth would choose absolutely the worst time to put an Akuma out into the streets of Paris, but she wasn’t surprised. Her luck as Ladybug never passed over into her life as Marinette— ruler of clumsiness and bad decisions.

Marinette knew she needed to get back to Tikki, she needed to find her earrings and quickly put them on.

She just didn’t expect to find the car that Adrien’s bag had been in to be completely destroyed with its contents spewed around the street.

Oh, she was screwed.

“Tikki,” She hissed, getting onto her knees and ignoring the glass that stuck into her palms as she shifted through all the now unrecognizable car’s contents. “Tikki, where are you?”

“Oh, this is golden,” A voice cackled from behind her and Marinette whipped around— coming face to face with a tiny black Kwami with glowing green eyes and a long tail. She blinked once, twice, and then noticed the bright silver, almost white ring he was carrying. “You’re Sugercube’s babybug, huh? Oh, loverboy is going to get a kick out of this.”

She gaped, unsure about how to continue.

“Do you have cheese?” He asked, scowling when she shook her head. “Great. What use are you then?”

“Uh…”

This was Chat Noir’s Kwami?

He seemed… completely opposite of Tikki.

“Well, aren’t you going to torture me now?” He asked, floating up to her face— his sardonic tone deepening as he lazily landed in Marinette’s palms as soon as she offered them up to him. “I’m Plagg, by the way. Why did you take the earrings off?”

“Urm, I’m Marinette and Tikki didn’t want me to but I kinda… I had this photoshoot thing that I had to switch them out for. So I did.”

“Oo! A rule breaker! I like you. My human is a goodie-goodie, unless it comes to you. He’s so in love that it’s revolting.”

“Not good at the emotional stuff, huh?”

“Nah, cheese is my love.”

“Oh,” Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Not the tiny goddess that calls you Stinky Socks?”

Giving her an eyeroll, Plagg huffed out, “Can you just say ‘claws out’ already?”

“Is there anything I need to know regarding Chat’s powers?”

“Be careful when you’re jumping around and moving, it’ll look a bit different than usual and you’ll be faster.” His voice was so bored that she couldn’t help but to giggle. “I’m awesome, so you’ll also be able to hear a lot better and see in the dark. Also, people will smell.”

“Excuse me?” Marinette blinked. “Smell?”

“Yep.” The black cat yawned exaggeratingly. “Loverboy says you smell good or whatever. Also, don’t ruin everything.”

For whatever reason, that made her cheeks flush and Plagg laughed, his cackle creating goosebumps to go over her skin.

He felt powerful— like destruction and death and sadness. He felt like he could destroy the whole world, like he could send it into a proverbial darkness, and Marinette was reminded of Paris drowned in water, and the moon cracked in half in the sky.

It was terrifying.

Plagg was terrifying.

Tikki felt light, like home.

Like life and warmth and creation and happiness. Her power was intimidating, it was skin-tight and heavy and weighed down her shoulders with a burden she never wanted but bore anyways.

Marinette wondered how his magic would feel after she transformed and looked around. The destruction still damaged around her, but she was hidden by three toppled over cars and couldn't see anyone through the cracks.

“Plagg,” She slipped the ring onto her middle finger, watching as it turned smaller and shone in a soft sky blue color. “Claws out!”

The power that overwhelmed her made her feel unbalanced, her head swarming like she was twenty feet underwater, the pressure pounding around her in all directions.

Being Ladybug felt suffocating sometimes. It felt like responsibility and trauma walked beside her every day.

But wearing the Black Cat Miraculous?

That felt like drowning.

Like devastation was clinging to her.

How did her kitty deal with this? With feeling demolition wreck havoc through his veins on an almost daily basis?

Ladybug— or well, she couldn’t be ladybug anymore— sucked in a harsh breath and looked around. The world was just… in ruins around her but it was more vivid than anything she experienced. The sun shone on everything brighter, the shadows almost nonexistent and the details— god, she was starting to see why Chat stared so much.

Taking her baton into her hands, the young heroine saw that the silver was the same color that the ring had turned into, a soft sky blue, and noted that in the light it glowed with an azure flicker.

Strange.

Turning around with a flinch as a loud boom followed by multiple screams rang throughout the street, the heroine had full intention to join in on the chaos and to hopefully find Chat— until she caught sight of herself in an upside-down car’s windshield.

She stood there gaping.

Unsure.

What the…

She wasn’t really sure what to expect, maybe an exact replica of Chat’s outfit, maybe her outfit as Ladybug but cat-themed but not… not this.

Her eyes were the same color but brighter, the iris having a deep blue ridge to them and the white part of her eyes were a slightly lighter shade. And her pupils— her pupils are slitted!

Wait.

Does that, does that mean that… that Chat’s eyes are normal now?

Ignoring that thought, she looked at the rest of her.

The suit was still the same black leather that her partner wore but with an azure shine to it. Around her neck, there was a dark blue bow with three loops made out of what seemed to be a soft and a baby blue bell in the middle.

Around her waist was the same blue ribbon that wrapped around her twice and then swished around her hips and extended towards her ankles in her ‘tail’.

Tail.

She had a tail.

Her eyes flew back up to her hair and her hands instantly shot up to her ears— leather ears exactly like Chat’s but they had light blue tips. They flicked and she felt it. She grabbed them with her hands and she squeaked.

How does he live like this?!

Instead of her pigtails, her hair was down to her shoulders with two thin ribbons going down to her shoulders. Her bangs were still present but the little hairs that used to frame her face on either side of her head and in front of her ears were now three curved whisks of hair that almost made her think they were supposed to resemble whiskers.

Her hands had claws, her wrists had ribbons and a small bow on them, as did her ankles— and her feet were shaped into paws!

Hopping on one foot, she saw the ‘toe beans’ on the bottom of her sole and squeaked rather loudly again.

She was a cat— a cat!

Her panicking came to an end when the car she was looking at herself was suddenly picked up and— thrown at her.

She heard it moving before she saw it, her ears perking up and dragging forward, her body leaping out of the way as the tension in her body raised. She sensed it coming towards her, somehow being able to feel the immediate area around her— she couldn’t stop observing it all.

Oh. Oh. It all makes sense now.

How Chat was always able to see the Akuma or any objects that were about to hit her before she did.

That and she could get so stuck in her head so much that it could be problematic.

Like now, for example.

The Akuma— a giant doll version of Reflekdoll, poor Juleka probably got akumatized again— was throwing things at her and, well, she tried her best to dodge, using her baton and newfound speed and agility to avoid being dangerously squished.

Unfortunately, she was rather clumsy with her new suit and powers.

She tried to listen to what Plagg had said, to be careful, and to be slower but she couldn’t. She never got hit by cars or building debris or the giant doll's hands but she flinched at her roars of rage and collided with building edges or other things she underestimated her own ability to stop with.

It would be so much easier if she had her yoyo or her wings to help guide her.

Where was her Chaton when she needed him?

Across town in a shady alleyway, Adrien Agreste was smiling brightly at the tiny red and black Kwami who was giving him a soft smile of her own— blue, almost purple eyes twinkling.

“I can tell why my babybug likes you so much,” Tikki said, having found and calmly explained the situation to the blond who she found calling out for Plagg mere minutes before. “You’re very polite and sweet, Stink Socks probably complains so much!”

“Thanks,” Adrien flushed slightly, wondering if he heard the miniature goddess correctly when she said that her Babybug, Ladybug by omission, liked him. “He’s not too bad as long as I give him enough camembert.

“Him and his cheese,” Tikki rolled her eyes before focusing them back on him, her smile turning encouraging. “I’m sure Plagg has found M— Ladybug by now. All you have to do is say ‘spots on’. I’m positive you’ll be able to handle it, Adrien! You’ve proven to be an amazing Chat Noir, I’m sure you’ll be an amazing Ladybug as well!”

“You’re… nothing like Plagg.”

“I know,” The Kwami giggles and strangely enough it reminds him of his lady’s giggles— that is until a loud shattering boom went through the air and shook the ground around them and a flash of black and blue went past the alley. “Ready?”

“Not really, but I’ll do my best!” Adrien gave a nervous chuckle and then took the earrings into his palms, then turning a darker sheen of red then what the black glowed with originally and the part of them that would go into the holes turned into cuffs.

When he put them on, he tugged, delighted in the way they were tight enough to never fall off unless physically torn from his ears.

“Alright, Tikki, spots on!”

Adrien didn’t expect the warmth that encased him.

Usually, the magic that he got from Plagg felt cold and secure, like a protective darkness hiding him from the loneliness, giving him the freedom to run through the night without fear of the isolation waiting for him at home.

Tikki’s magic felt heavy, like burning alive— and suddenly he understood the burden that had been placed onto his lady’s shoulders and the strictness in her eyes.

There was no room for mistakes.

The world was in her palms, she had become Atlas at thirteen and never complained once. She had taken up the mantle with wariness and a proud stance and she held it so tightly that she never dropped it once.

He sucked in a breath, almost doubling over with the weight of it all.

Ladybug— for five years— felt this unyielding responsibility? She did this and put up with him, him who teased and goofed around and made mistakes? Him who had admittedly gotten better over time but still flirts and is playful on the field?

How did she deal with that?!

Fortunately, he didn’t have to think long about that being a giant doll stopped at the edge of the alleyway, turned to him as he shuffled back and roared.

He saw his own reflection in the shiny face— a maroon suit with black details and a black mask, his hair the same mess, and the yoyo around his waist. Thick wings were on his back, he could feel them twitch and scuffle as they opened in surprise. Ladybug had wings, he didn’t know why he expected not to.

His eyes were wide and so normal that it took him a second too long to realize they were coming closer.

Because the doll was moving closer, making his reflection do the same.

Why couldn’t he sense it?

Why did everything look so… so familiar? No extra sight, no extra hearing. How did Ladybug do this— how could she fight while being so normal?

God, he always had a lot of respect for her but now he has even more.

Shooting into the air, the yoyo automatically swung in his hand as he used it to volt himself into the sky, having seen his lady do so so many times it was almost second nature. Once he got over the doll, she shrieked in agitation— looking like Reflekdoll— and moved her clanky, large body to try and grab him.

Chat, however, if he could even call himself that anymore, opened his wings with some experimentation and flapped them a couple of times, not expecting the power they held and went so far into the sky that the sight could rival their rendezvous point on the Eiffel tower.

He tried to drift right but ended up volting upside down and catching a large gust of wind that sent him backward, wings snapping painfully straight.

The hero yelped and desperately, yet futility, clawed at the air.

Where was his lady when he needed her?

The young heroine was just thinking she got the hang of how to run across the rooftops with her accelerated speed— having failed and either trip or face-planted into a chimney here or there— but a masculine yelp came from above her and she looked up just in time to see the panicked face of her partner before the deep red-suited boy with long wings crashed into her.

They went flying, both rolling as their bodies tangled together, the cold tiles of the roof underneath them not hurting but definitely not pleasant as they came to a stop a couple of seconds after.

She groaned, feeling his familiar and hard body underneath hers.

She wanted him to be there with her, of course, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to tackle her after being airborne.

“Chat,” She struggles to detangle her arms from around him, his wings crowding them more than the usual present-battle entanglement. She was grateful though for this moment, he was warm and soothing and Tikki’s magic felt like a breath of fresh air. “Why would you—”

Why would you try to fly?

She was going to ask, seeing as that’s most likely how he literally fell out of the sky and onto her but then, then something horrifying happened.

She started to purr.

“Eek!” She shot up, arms painfully pulling out of their spot as she desperately tried to crawl away from her partner. “No, no, no, no—”

“Milady,” Chat’s teasing voice froze her but, unfortunately, made the purring all the much louder and she snapped her eyes up to meet his startlingly normal eyes. “Are you doing that because of me?”

“N-no! No, of course not, that would be, that would be, uh—”

She tried to focus on what she was saying, her lie so obvious, but then that stupid cat put a gentle hand into her hair and started to massage her scalp, petting her so softly that her purrs echoed.

Why did that make her feel so warm inside and why did it feel so good?

“Aw, my little kitten.” Chat cooed out. “So adorable. You’re happy to see me, hm?”

“Hm— ah, n-no.” The heroine leaned into his palm, forgetting about their surroundings as she melted into his touch— that is until a prickling sensation shook her whole body and she heard the faintest scrap of metal against the ground.

Her eyes flew open again and she jerked back into a sitting position, eyes snapping to the right as her hackles raised. Another stupid car was coming right at them! Without much thought, the heroine pushed her partner down onto the opposite side of the roof, rolling down after him just as the vehicle smashed into the building.

Okay.

So this Akuma was the murderous kind.

Not the trap or trick kind.

Nice to know.

“Okay, we have to lure her towards the Seine,” She jumped into her usual serious mode, jumping to her feet and unaware that her tail was swishing behind her. “That way there’s less of those stupid cars to throw. I’m pretty sure everyone is to safety by now but we still don’t want her damaging buildings due to the people inside.”

“Ladybug— er, I mean… what do I call you now?” Chat asked, standing up and stretching his wings, and then almost falling over again due to the wind and some building chunks the muttering Akuma was chucking at them.

“Uh, I don’t know, you pick.” She said half mindlessly, blocking hits for both of them. “It looks like a bigger version of when Juleka got Akumatized but I haven’t seen anything that could be the object and trust me, I’ve been thrown around enough to catch all of her.”

“Bluebell Kitten,” He said, pointing to the bell in the middle of her bow. “And are you okay? Did you have trouble using the baton?”

“No, the baton is easy, it’s the stupid senses thing! How can you focus on anything?” The apparent kitten asked, pointing towards the Eiffel tower. “And for the record, I regret giving you the choice to choose, Scarlet Beetle.”

“Ah, nice name.” He grinned, heeding to her signal, and started to run in that direction. “I don’t know, it just comes naturally. Makes sense it would be overwhelming for you, though. You get no extra senses at all, I don’t know how you fight like this.”

“Quite easily,” Bluebell Kitten quipped. “And just wait until you use my charm, it’ll definitely knock you off your feet.”

“That’s okay,” Scarlet beetle helped her keep the right face and sent her a wink that sent her tail wagging embarrassingly. “It’ll just be another way I fell for you.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that made its appearance. “You ready for this, buggy?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, kitten.”

The battle went by with a little struggle— Scarlet Beetle having to help Bluebell Kitten with her speed, showing her the best way to stop or how to adjust her eyes to focus properly on what she was doing and about the new depth perception she had. In return, the bug turned cat helped the still flirty boy fly better, teaching him how to find the right air currents and how to land— but the heroine could tell her partner struggled with the Miraculous.

It was a different kind of struggle than she had with his.

Sure, Plagg’s magic was uncomfortable and too light and just wrong against her skin but Tikki with her kitty? Not a good mix.

He struggled to understand that he couldn’t take any hits for her— that that was the Kitten’s responsibility now.

That, no matter how much he wanted to save her, he couldn’t do anything that would put himself incapacitated or at a greater risk. They could defend each other but he was the last line of defense— they were a team but he mattered more.

He was the only one that could heal those hurt, that could fix things that were broken.

“Minou,” She had sighed out, blue eyes sparring her partner a glance as she distracted and he tried to figure out what his lucky charm meant. “No self-sacrificing today, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Scarlet Beetle had asked, frowning as he spun his yoyo in a circle to block some rumble from hitting him.

“It’s not your job to protect me right now. It’s your job to survive long enough to defeat the Akuma and fix everything.”

“But—”

“No buts. You can’t put yourself at risk, even for me. Understood?”

Begrudgingly, the blond-haired boy nodded and they settled their full attention back into the battle. Within minutes it was done, both of them having used their powers and able to return poor Juleka back to the Couffaine boathouse after fist-bumping and answering Alya’s question when she stormed up to them for a report on the Ladyblog.

The heroine could tell that her poor bug was still upset, having witnessed her take a couple blows that he hadn’t seen coming— being more unattentive than usual and not able to sense as much.

She had broken ribs but still fought by his side.

Broken ribs were nothing compared to what he went through before, she had told herself. He had died before, she wasn’t as unlucky.

“Chaton,” The Kitten grabbed his wrist, stopping him from where they were running on a roof, his earring cuffs beeping letting them know he only had three minutes left, her ring was at four. It had been roughly twenty minutes since they used their powers; more time from being older and getting more powers and mature suits. “I’m sorry that today was bad for you.”

“I’m just… I’m not used to not being able to protect you, milady.” He grumbled with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t like it.”

“It was only for today,” She reminded softly. “And I know how you feel but you just— you have to remind yourself that what happened, how I was hurt, wasn’t your fault. I know you would’ve protected me if you could have. That’s one of the burdens of having the Ladybug Miraculous.”

Scarlet Beetle just frowns at her and she sighs, reaching up a hand to softly cup his cheek.

“It’s okay, Kitty,” She smiles. “I’m fine now, aren’t I?”

“Is this how it’s like for you?” He questions, shiny green eyes flickering between her own. “Feeling helpless? Just watching and unable to save… I was unable to save you. I can’t, I can't do that again—”

Scarlet cuts himself off with a choking sound, hand clenching by his side with tears in his eyes. He trembled slightly and the Kitten felt her ears press flat as she recognized the terror in his eyes.

“Come here,” She holds her arms open, offering a hug and her boy is quick to take the opportunity and wrap himself into her gentle hold. “I know that was a hard fight but you’re not going to lose me, okay? Never. You’re stuck with me now, I’m not going to leave you or get hurt and not be there. I promise.”

“Promise,” He wiggles until his arm is free and holds out his pinky, the action so adorable that she can’t help but to giggle as she lifts her own hand and interwinds her pinky with his.

Beeps echo through the night and Bluebell pulls away, running a hand through Scarlet’s hair to make it even messier. She ruffled the spots his ears would normally be and smiled when the strands fluffed up and stuck up into different angles.

“We have to go, Minou.” She boops his nose. “Meet me in our hotel room tower tonight, we’ll switch back to normal.”

“Okay,” He gives her a goofy smile. “What does Tikki like to eat?”

“Chocolate chip cookies, or just sweets in general. Plagg likes cheese, right?”

“Really! Cookies are so much better than stinky camembert— which I’m guessing he mentioned. Do you, urm, even have that?”

“My dad’s secretly a cheese fanatic, I’m sure I can smuggle some of the good stuff from him.” Bluebell tilted her head slightly, eyeing his wings. “Don’t fly if you’re going into a window or something narrow because, and no offense, you're not good enough to avoid smacking into it and breaking something.”

“I take full offense,” He winks. “See you Milady.”

“See you, kitty.”

“Can you keep me?” Plagg asked, staring dreamily at the gruyere cheese that the young heroine had given him shortly after she detransformed and made it back home— and after he laughed about the pictures of all her friends including Adrien and Chat Noir on her walls. “I know I called you mushy and sentimental but this is even better than camembert!”

Marinette laughs and shakes her head, “Sorry Plagg, I prefer Tikki. I don’t like smelling like cheese.” Even if gruyere smelled quite a lot better than camembert.

“Ugh, humans.” The Kwami grumbles. “So fickle. You just wanna smell good for loverboy. I think that cheese smells amazing, for the record.”

“Your opinion has been noted.” She nods to him. “And I don’t want to smell good for Chat!”

“Mhm,” Plagg rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“I’m not!”

“I totally believe you, kid.”

“You’re horrible,” She grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah. Feed me some more.”

“No.”

“Feed me!”

“Stop yelling or I’m telling Tikki you were being mean to me.”

“Hey!” Plagg turned to her with glaring green eyes. “Don’t bring Sugarcube into this.”

Marinette turned to him and raised an eyebrow, “Then don’t bring my kitty into this.”

“Aw,” He snickered. “You called him your kitty. He’ll get a kick out of that.”

“Plagg, claws out!” Marinette flushed a bright red and a green light encased her.

Time to go visit her kitty— because he is hers, no matter Plagg’s teasing.

Across town in a lonely room, Adrien was laughing so hard his stomach was hurting and tears were coming out of his eyes. He was practically wheezing at this point, curled up as he tried to catch his breath— something that, at this point, was useless.

He had managed to convince Tikki to try some of Plagg’s camembert.

And the little Kwami quite honestly looked like she was going to throw up, cheeks going almost a purple as she grimaced and gagged.

It shouldn’t have been as funny as it was but Adrien couldn’t help it.

Tikki was so different than Plagg and the simple fact that she looked like she was ready to die right then and there from the mere taste of the black cat’s favorite food was one of the funniest things he has ever seen.

“Haha,” She said, voice light but disgusted as she tried to cover up the taste with chocolate— which, by her expression, he could tell did not blend well. “Now you have to try it. Fair is fair.”

“No!” He choked on a chuckle. “Plagg has tried to feed me it so many times and succeeded. I don’t need to smell like that cheese more than I already do!”

“Hmph,” Tikki crossed her arms and floated up to his face. “I’m going to tell baby bug you tried to poison me.”

Adrien gaped, “You wouldn’t.”

The miniature goddess giggled, “You’re right, but your expression was worth it!”

“You’re so much nicer than Plagg, I can see why Ladybug loves you so much,” He commented, blinking slightly at the little Kwami’s stupefied expression. “She’s talked about you before. I didn’t know your name or anything but a couple of times during patrol she mentioned how, well… how she was so grateful you were her best friend.”

“Really?” Tikki gave an excited smile that only widened as Adrien nodded.

“Really really.”

“Well, she’s the best Ladybug I’ve had. The youngest too.” Her smile goes softer with a tender look only a being as long as she had lived could have. “I don’t know how she does it all, but despite all she thinks about herself, she’s a very resourceful little bug. I couldn’t be prouder of her. Or of you, Adrien! Plagg loves you, even if the stinky socks won’t admit it.”

“Thank you. He purrs when I hug him, even if he yells at me.”

“Does he really?” Tikki laughed joyfully. “I’ll have fun teasing him about that.”

“I thought you were the one that got teased?” Adrien tilted his head to the side.

“It goes both ways,” She reassured. “He’s just better at it.”

“I see. Did he really kill all the dinosaurs?”

“And the doo-doo birds.”

“No!” He gasped. “Evil.”

“Laziness and distractions,” The kwami corrected, lifting a solemn paw. “He was different back then. Less happy.”

“Less happy?” Adrien questioned.

He always assumed that cheese was the only thing that made Plagg truly happy, well, until he met Tikki and she had shared a couple of stories, telling him about all the interesting things they’ve been through together.

“Yeah,” Tikki gave him a sad smile. “We’ve been around since the dawn of creation, Adrien, we’ve seen countless civilizations and being rise and fall, empires turned to nothing more than ash. We’ve seen evil rise and good defend time and time again. My bugs… they are always smart, always compassionate people. Sometimes gentle and sweet like your lady is. Sometimes not. But they all— each and every single one of them— see horribly traumatizing things that Plagg’s holders do not, they get torn apart from the inside out. But his kittens? They get hurt more. They risk more. They die more and they die first. Always. And he dies with them a bit each time.”

“That’s…”

Adrien didn’t even know what that was, the only thing that came to mind was— sad.

“I know,” She gave him that motherly smile of hers, tone soft and soothing but with a note of sadness to it. “You don’t have to say it. Plagg takes a long time to open up to someone. He doesn’t like acting close, he doesn’t like being close— he said that it hurts less that way. But I know that it hurts the same, that it hurts even more. That he wants more time with them, I know I always do.”

“I can’t speak for anyone but myself,” The young hero says. “But I know that whenever I go, I will want more time with him, too.”

Tikki fixes him with a sweet look in her eye, “That’ll mean a lot to Stinky Socks. Could you tell him that?”

“Of course,” Adrien gives her one of his bright smiles— one that’s actually real. “It’s almost time to meet Milady at our room, are you all energized?”

Their room was at Le Grand Paris, paid for by Major Bourgeois after he assured the two heroes that there would be no supervallince, no one allowed on that floor (the very top) without their explicit permission and that they could come there at any time, the balcony always unlocked.

Chloe told them that it was a gift to her favorite superhero and ‘friend’ of all time.

Ladybug gave a weak smile and scowled once whom she considered to be a nuisance looked away.

Besides Chloe beings, well… Chloe, Adrien had no clue what she could’ve done to make his lady hate her so much. They interacted once every couple months due to her causing an Akuma, so maybe that was it but the dislikement Ladybug had for the girl seemed to go beyond that.

It seemed personal.

“Yep! Take me back to my baby bug, please.” Tikki smiles at him.

Returning the look, Adrien calls out, “Spots on!” And is encased into a burning, dark red light before the same maroon suit and dark wings flexed against his skin.

Scarlet beetle sighed.

Oh, how he couldn’t wait to see his lady.

Arriving at Le Grand Paris, Bluebell Kitten knew that her partner was already inside based on the precariously left open door and an album from Jagged Stone that she could hear extraordinarily well even from outside.

She, expecting to be able to stop, landed onto the balcony and put away her baton— only for her clumsy feet to stumble due to her speed and she crashed right through the open door, thankful that he left it open.

Then for the second time that day, the two heroes crashed into each other before slamming into the floor, the Kitten on top of the beetle and both bright red, bodies tangled up and so close that she couldn’t tell where she ended and he started.

“H-hey, Milady.” He, for some reason, chuckled and cupped the back of her head, holding her gently as he shifted slightly underneath her. “That eager to be bugged by me, huh?”

“Chaton,” The heroine scowled, pushing herself onto her elbows as she rests peacefully against his chest. “Aren’t you punned out for the day?”

“When am I ever punned out, little kitten?”

Bluebell shrieks as a purr loudly announces her appreciation— that she otherwise would’ve been able to hide— for the pet name and she scrambled back as that stupid blond started to laugh.

“Chat!” She covers her mouth with both hands, desperately trying to stop both her blush and the noise coming from her as it only grows thanks to her useless partner pulling her back onto him with a wicked grin. “Make it stop! How do I make it stop?”

“I don’t know if I want to help you with this, Milady,” He bites the inside of his cheek. “I quite like you not being able to hide how you feel.”

The purr in her chest turned into a soothing, almost constant rumble and she pouted.

“Yeah, well, I don’t.” The words seemed to vibrate in her throat and she swallowed the odd tickling feeling down. “I purr, Chaton. Purr! And every time I look at you my stupid tail wants to act up! Why? Because it hates me.”

“No,” He grinned. “Because you loooove me.”

Flushing deeply, she buries her head into her hands— deciding that's not enough and then buries it into his chest to hide the red-stained cheeks but Scarlet Beetle only laughs, telling her he saw it already.

“Come on, Bugaboo. I��m just teasing you.”

“I don’t like this.”

“But you like me.”

“Chat!”

“What? I didn’t do anything.” His laugh deepens and she can feel it in her own chest, being that close to him. That traitorous purr only gets louder. Stupid, stupid cat instincts. Why can’t she enjoy the sound of his laugh without him knowing? Was that too much to ask?

“Just give me my miraculous back, you silly tomcat,” Bluebell grumbles, successfully sitting up this time, the purr quieting when Scarlet Beetle puts his hands back to his sides. “And don’t tease my purring!”

“Why not?” He pouts. “You tease my purring.”

“That’s different,” She whines. “You’re cute when you do it. It’s just weird for me too! I don’t want to be able to hear your heart beating— wait!” She stared at him in wide-eyed horror. “Do you… do you usually hear that good?”

“Yeah?” The hero gives her a weird look. “But I learned to ignore it, why?”

“No reason.” She sighs, looking away from her partner as she scrambles off of him, both standing up and a foot apart. “Point is, I’m a cat person but I don’t want to be a cat.”

“I rather like seeing you as a cat,” His comment earns a dry look.

“I’m sure you just love seeing me prance around in leather but I like being Ladybug, not a kitty.”

“But you're my kitten,” Beetle’s pout returns, and his green eyes widen innocently— almost as bad as Manon’s when she wants something.

The longer she stared into his eyes, the more familiar they became.

Not because they were Chat’s eyes, no— she’s seen her partner’s slitted gaze thousands of times. She’s seen him look at her a thousand times with that look in his eyes, too. The look that got her heart racing and the ‘what ifs’ to drag through her mind.

But these eyes?

And that expression?

She saw it somewhere else, on someone else.

All she can do is stare blankly at him, mind reeling.

No… no, it can’t be him— Chat can’t be—

But he could.

The missed classes, the poor excuses, the exhaustion, the secret gaze, the trusting of her civilian self. Blonde hair, green eyes. Bad father. Kind, selfless, smart. Lonely. The gentlest soul she has ever met.

Everything just clicked.

The thing they had been dancing around for years just fell into place looking into those eyes— eyes she used to be too nervous to look into. Eyes she tripped over, eyes she used to be in love with; eyes she still was in love with.

Raising a shaking hand to his cheek, she caressed it softly before bringing it up to his hair and brushing the strands back. He watched her, curious gaze intense as they locked eyes.

“Adrien?”

The name passed her lips so softly, so assured, and her kitty flinched in surprise, wide eyes filling first with confusion, then panic, and then with questions.

“How did you…”

She fell for him once under the hood of an umbrella and a sincere apology, with thunder and lightning crashing around them in the downpour but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t the only thing in Paris that day that felt so heavy that she could scream and she didn’t mind. She fell in love with the sweet boy with good grades and a sadness trapped into a smile. She fell in love with the boy who did everything he could to make his father happy, to help people. She fell in love with the boy beyond the good boy, perfect model facade he put on.

She fell in love with Adrien Agreste at fifteen.

She fell in love with him again at eighteen but it was different this time. There was no lightning, no quick strike of feelings and amazement and warmth. No, it was like swimming in shallow waters only to get swept up in the tides, completely trusting the water to keep her safe.

She fell in love with the puns, with the goofy smile and flicking ears and curious green eyes. She fell in love with her best friend, her partner. She fell in love with the boy in the mask, the one who supported her whenever she needed it and held her even when she didn’t. She fell in love with his sensitive heart and sharp mind.

She fell in love with Chat Noir.

And ever since then she’s been falling all over the place, enamoured over everything he did. She fell and fell and fell. There were so many things to love about him— both sides of him.

How couldn’t she see it before?

Because, honestly, who else could’ve been good enough to be Chat Noir?

“Your eyes,” She murmured almost absentmindedly, looking between the verdant orbs. “They’re usually darker and slitted. Cats eyes. But… but these eyes? These are Adrien Agreste’s eyes. I know these eyes, they’re beautiful.”

She could hear his heart racing and she could see the almost begging way he looked at her. She could see the tension in his body, the way he could so easily shrink in on himself.

“And is… is being Adrien okay?” The hero questioned, wincing slightly as he looked away from her. “Are you disappointed that it’s me?”

“Of course not,” She giggled and that stupid purr still hadn’t left. “You’re you. How could that ever disappoint me, Chaton?”

“I don’t know... I’m not, I don’t— do I know you?” Adrien— Chat— questioned, shuffling on his feet as he leaned into her touch. “Outside of the mask, I mean?”

She felt the purring stop and her ears went back. She retracted her hand slowly to her cheek and hugged herself around the middle. She looked down at the wings opened anxiously against his back, not wanting to see the disappointment on his face.

“Yeah,” The heroine nods. “We’re friends.”

Friends.

That’s all they were.

Chat Noir and Adrien were in love with Ladybug— not her.

She wasn’t elegant or agile, she tripped over her feet three times a day and could be so unorganized and forgetful that she drove herself insane. She wasn’t too confident and she was far from brave.

Marinette wasn’t like Ladybug.

She wasn’t… she wasn’t that perfect girl Chat made her out to be.

Adrien was her friend, they hung out and could have good conversations but she noticed that he avoided her slightly, almost like he was disgusted by her. Like she made him uncomfortable.

Like he couldn’t stand her, even if he was polite.

It was almost like how she acted the first year they knew each other but he seemed more… wary, like she had done something to offend him and he was just waiting for her to realize or talk to him about it.

Would he be disappointed that she’s Ladybug?

Angry, even?

“Why do you look so sad, bugaboo?” Adrien asks, concern touching his tone. “Did you— do you not want to be my friend?”

When she looked at him, her poor partner looked ready to drop with worry and she gave a watery chuckle, just realizing there were tears in her eyes.

“Sorry,” She rubs the wetness away, almost poking herself with the claws. “I just… you don’t like me much. The civilian me, anyway. I don’t want you to be upset that it’s me.”

“There are very few people I don’t like,” He frowned. “And none of them have blue hair, or blue eyes, or your smile. Who are you?”

Bluebell lowered her eyes, “You won’t hate me?”

It’s always been a fear of hers— Chat finding out who she actually was and leaving her, being disgusted. How could an insecure klutz like that protect Paris? How could he trust the girl who couldn’t get three good sentences out to him to talk down an Akuma or soothe one of the victims with her tone?

How could he still love her, knowing the girl underneath the mask?

Ladybug was stunning.

Marinette was just… Marinette.

“I couldn’t even if I tried,” Adrien reassured her, wringing his hands together in such a cute, unlike-Chat way that she giggled. “Can I detransform?”

“Sure,” She took a step back again, nervous for no reason at all.

It was just Chat, just her partner. Just the boy she’s been in love with for the last five years.

No big deal.

None whatsoever.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “You look like you’re going to cry. Oh no, I’m so sorry! I knew you wouldn’t like that I was Adrien! God, I’m so stupid—”

“Stop being mean to yourself!” She snapped. “I care about you, both sides! I care that you’re Adrien because you make me a little nervous but it’s nothing bad, I promise! I just have, urm… it’s a lot to process.”

“...Understandable.” He swallowed, then said, “Spots off.”

A flash of red consumed Scarlet Beetle and in his place stood Adrien, hair neater and muscular body less accentuated in his, ironically, ladybug-themed sweater and jeans that she knew he wore to school.

It was Adrien Agreste.

Her friend Adrien Agreste.

Bluebell knew that— of course she knew that but seeing it… it took her breath away.

Tikki floated between the two heroes with wide eyes, glancing to her baby bug and then back to the blond. She had no clue what was happening and her holder dreaded the lecture she’d get later of the importance of keeping their identities a secret.

With slightly narrowed eyes but an encouraging smile, Tikki went over to the other side of the room where the cookies were at and started to eat.

She could feel the Kwami’s eyes on her and the anxiety creeping around her veins pulsed viciously.

Taking a deep breath, she looked Adrien in the eyes— and then purred.

Loudly.

Horrifyingly loud.

When will this nightmare end?!

“Eep!” She stumbles back, flushing. “I don’t mean to, I swear!”

Adrien gives her that bemused smile, one usually reserved for Marinette after she did something weird or awkward, and chuckles, “It’s okay, Milady. No judgment here.”

“Thanks.” She said, still covering her cheeks.

“Are you, um… going to detransform, too?”

She knows that Adrien— Chat— has wanted to know who she was since the day they met. She wanted to know too but the fear of Hawkmoth getting to them outweighed the desire.

But thinking about it and actually telling him were two different things.

“I meant what I said,” Bluebell told him, voice steady but wary. “You avoid me and… and the way you look at me— we’re friends but just don’t… don’t get your hopes up that I’m someone you’ll like.”

“I already know I like you, with or without the mask.” He reassured, that usual comforting smile on his lips that got him that sunshine-boy reputation. “So please, bugaboo? I really want to know who you are.”

She bit her lip, holding her breath for a couple of seconds as she held herself in place too, leaning against the wall besides the windows.

She felt trapped, worried, but also excited.

She wanted him to know, even if she was scared.

She was far enough away from him, she could probably make it to the window and escape if he looked absolutely revolted by her.

She’s faced rejection before.

She could do it again.

Even if it would hurt really, really bad.

“Claws in.” She said, face turned to the ground as she trembled.

Oh God, there was no turning back now.

The soft baby blue light surrounded her, the drowning, beating wave-like power of the Miraculous leaving her as Plagg appeared in the air next to her arm— him being tackled by Tikki before he could even say anything, followed by a loud ‘shush’ from the Kwami.

Marinette stood there, shoulders raised with tension and her heart pounding behind her ears. She had the strongest urge to hide her face from view, to run away from all of this.

From his reaction.

“You’re… you’re Marinette.” Adrien said this slowly. He got a nod in reply. “And you think that I— Adrien Agreste— don’t like you?”

She gave another nod, not trusting her voice to speak.

She couldn’t even look at him. How pathetic could she get?

“I don’t hate you, Mari,” He said this and Marinette shyly looked up, flushing at the look of adoration on his face. He could still look at her like that? How? “I always noticed how uncomfortable I made you, I was just giving you space. I didn’t mean to make you upset, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” She rubs her arms and looks away again. “You don’t make me uncomfortable, just nervous.”

“Why?” Adrien questioned, voice almost cracking. “Do I intimidate you or something?”

Marinette couldn’t help it. She laughed.

“Intimidate me?” This is said with a giggle and she makes her amused eyes meet his. “You think you’re intimidating? Cute.”

“Hey,” His tone turned slightly offended and she bit her lip as he pouted. “I can be intimidating and scary.”

“Yeah?” She teases, leaning forward with that twinkle in her eyes— playful like how she could be with Chat. Because this was Chat. “Do it. Be scary. Intimidate me, ‘o frightening one.”

“Urm, I d-don’t think I can right now. You’re you.”

“Does your brain feel like it’s going to explode?” Marinette asks, blue clashing with green as she tilts her head to the side.

“Kinda.” Adrien admits sheepishly. “I’m still trying to understand why you get nervous around me.”

“Uh,” She blinks, a sheepish smile coming onto her face. “I know you’re in love with Ladybug but— but I’m not her, I’m not that great. I’m just me. And you think of me— Marinette— as a friend. But… I’ve kind of been in love with you since Dupont?”

“You what?”

“Been in love with you,” Marinette’s face burned. “Since I was about thirteen. I hated you at first, you were friends with Chloe and the gum on my seat didn’t help but then I noticed how kind you were. Smart, selfless. Lonely, too but you don’t like talking about that so I’m sorry for mentioning it— I just, I fell in love with you and that’s why you always made me nervous because I didn’t think you could love me back.”

“Marinette,” Adrien looks at her, tenderness and seriousness oddly mixed in his gaze as he slowly walked towards her. “I’ve been in love with you from the second we met. And don’t say that you’re not Ladybug because you are, both inside and outside of the mask. You help people, you protect them. You’re passionate and strong and stubborn and I love you. I don’t know how many times I’ll have to say it before you believe me but I’ll do it until then and even after. I love you. I love you so much that it hurts— mph!”

With slight tears pricking her eyes, Marinette closed the distance between them and wrapped him into a tight hug, his now familiar body both making her feel calm and make her heart race.

“I love you too.”

Adrien sighs contently, wrapping his arms around her too. He held her gently but tightly, not willing to let her go but not risking hurting her— not that the silly kitty could.

Suddenly he chuckles and says, “That explained why you purred.”

“I said not to tease me!” She whined, pulling back enough that she could look up at him with narrowed eyes. “You’re so mean, Chaton.”

“And you’re stunning, Bugaboo.”

The comment made Marinette squeak and dunk her head, desperate to get her blush out of his eyesight— but a soft yet collapsed hand holding lightly onto her chin stopped the action, Adrien bringing her eyes back up to look at him.

“You believe me when I say that, yes?” He asks. “Because I mean it. Everything about you is gorgeous, I don’t know how I didn’t realize the two girls I fell in love with were the same one.”

“It’s because we’re both stupid,” She giggles, stering the converastion away from compliments, unsure of how much warmer her face could get before she combusted. “But I also blame your hair.”

“My hair?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Mhm,” She hums, reaching up to play with the soft strands as she had done so hundreds of times before. “You always have it so neat but as Chat it’s messy.”

“I like it better that way,” He explains, a slight purr to his voice. “It’s more comfortable.”

“Both styles are equally cute, so you’re lucky.” She murmurs absentmindedly, still focused on his hair, ruffling it slightly with a smile. Then she notices the ear cuffs he had on and blinked in surprise. “Are those my earrings?”

“Huh?” Adrien blinks his eyes open and Marinette giggles at his dazed expression. Even without the ring he was her silly kitty who liked to be pet and cuddled. “Oh, yeah. They changed when I touched them.”

“Your ring did too,” She shows him. “It was weird, I thought it would’ve stayed silver.”

“Yeah, me too,” He poked the ring and then gently slides it off of her finger, putting it on his own before reaching up for the earrings and giving them back to their rightful owner who puts them off and sighs in relief.

This magic was familiar— this magic was warm and like home and tight enough to keep her safe, not like swimming in an open ocean and gasping for air only for her lungs to fill with water instead.

“Mari?”

“Yes?” She looks up at him, seeing questions in his verdant eyes.

“Have you, um, seen something bad that I haven’t?”

It was admittedly a weird question, one that through her off guard but one that also made her think of the word drowned in water and dust, of the Eiffel tower toppled over, of watching herself crumple and fade, of seeing the moon cracked open in the sky and a boy in white with blue, crying eyes and a broken soul.

It made her think of how she saved him— but how she hadn’t saved her Chaton all those times, how she watched him die and fade and get captured and tortured and taken control of.

It made her think of the trauma of watching her city burn and the people in it all relying on her since the tender age of thirteen to save them all.

It made her think of all the times she had to protect everyone by herself because she lost Chat after he risked everything to save her.

Realizing she got lost in thought, Marinette startled and focused back onto her partner, “Yes, but don’t worry Minou. I can handle it.”

“I want you to be able to talk to me about those things,” Adrien murmured softly. “Tikki told me that all her Ladybugs live through things Chat Noirs don’t— but we’re a team. I want to share that burden with you.”

She sighed— and then she told him about Chat Blanc, she told him about how Paris drowned under the weight of their love three years ago and she’s been scared for him ever since, she told him about all of it.

By the end, they were both in tears and holding onto each other.

A weight feels like it was lifted off of her shoulders, like she was light enough to just float. It felt good talking about it, to let go all of that terror and heartache she accumulated over the years.

“You’re stronger than I ever knew,” Adrien kisses her forehead and her heart flutters. “I’m so proud of you, my little kitten.”

“Adrien,” She whines, hiding her face into his shoulder. “Stop.”

“Stop what?” He chuckles, lightening the mood. He always had a way of doing that. “Complimenting you?”

“Yes, I’m not used to it!” Marinette exclaimed. “You’re making me blush too much!”

“What if that’s my goal?”

“Then it’s a bad goal.”

“Meow-ch, Princess.” Adrien puts a hand over his heart. “You hurt me so, but fine. If that’s a bad goal, then what’s a good one?”

Feeling brave, she shoots him a wide smirk, “Kissing you until you’re breathless.”

He just stares at her, gaping as he blinks.

“What, Kitty?” She teases, leaning closer. “You flirt all the time but can’t take it?”

“No, it’s j-just… I completely support that goal.”

Laughing, Marinette rolls his eyes before cupping his face and kissing him— the feeling of his soft lips on hers sending a shiver down her spine. It was passionate and slow and loving, a kiss that told both of them all they had been feeling for these years.

It was a kiss that told them no matter what happened, they’d be okay.

So they kissed, again and again until they lost reality.

Going through the pain of having their Miraculous switched was worth it.

#switched miraculous #adrien x marinette #adrienette #adrien agreste #ml ladybug #ml adrien #mlb fanfic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous kwami #kitten #purring #Chat Noir and Ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #mlb fic #fluff #fight #akuma attack #long post #long fic

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quicksilversquared · 4 years ago

Text

Defeat by Data

After getting great success with his efforts to figure out what was going on with Lila, Max has turned his attention to a bigger project: using data collection and analysis to track down Hawkmoth's location. Unfortunately for Max, it's proving to be more difficult than expected.

Unfortunately for Hawkmoth, that's not enough to deter Max.

links in the reblog

The models were ready, the equations tested and confirmed, the map of Paris downloaded and imported and the geo-locator coordinates checked and double-checked. The data sheets had been polished to perfection, each column crisply labeled and with data checks set up to let Max know if anything wasn't entered in the correct format, and linked to the program that he had developed.

All that was missing was enough data to provide a statistically significant result.

Max sighed as he entered his latest row of data, his eyes scanning upwards on the data sheet in hopes that somehow, magically, more information had appeared overnight.

His hopes were, of course, in vain. The data was as sparse as it had been before.

"I am sure that you will eventually gather enough useable information to track Hawkmoth down," Markov told him encouragingly. "Perhaps it is not working as quickly as you had hoped, but that may have been a bit optimistic."

"I think I got my expectations thrown off by how easy it was to find data about Lila," Max said with a sigh, making sure the line was saved before closing the document. Staring at it for too long would just make him frustrated, and he didn't do any decent work when he got too frustrated. "Hawkmoth is proving much more elusive."

Elusive, and the unknown variables that Max had to deal with were much harder to account for.

On paper, the concept of Max's Hawkmoth-finding model was simple: all he had to do was observe when people around him got mad, make note of where they were and what time it was, and then make another note when they got akumatized. In theory, he should be able to take the amount of time that it took for the butterfly to arrive and the GPS coordinates and then plug them in to find Hawkmoth's lair. He could account for the unknown speed at which the corrupted butterflies flew by using a fairly simple equation, which would then transform the data into lines projected onto a map of Paris, each line corresponding to the time taken for the butterfly to arrive. Max would then- in theory- be able to manipulate the lines and make them change in length by the same factor. Once all of the lines met- within a pre-determined margin of error- then that was where Ladybug and Chat Noir should be looking for the source of the akumas.

On paper, it made sense. It sounded easy. In theory, it was straightforward and pretty much guaranteed to produce results. But in reality?

First of all, there was no way to account for the variable amount of time that it might take for Hawkmoth to send out an akuma once an upset was detected. If his response rate varied, that could affect the akuma. Realistically, there was no way to confirm if all of the corrupted butterflies actually flew at the same rate. On top of that, collecting any sort of useable data was really hard, harder than Max had anticipated. There was no telling how angry (or upset, or frustrated, or otherwise emotional) a person had to be in order for Hawkmoth to pick it up. Then it was pretty rare to actually see someone get akumatized- the majority of people got akumatized when they were alone or with a single friend, after all, not in a group setting- and an akuma showing up in public immediately after being akumatized wasn't exactly a given. Sometimes it was pretty obvious that the akuma had shown up immediately, so Max had been counting them anyway- if he didn't, he wouldn't have any data- but most of the time it was pretty questionable and therefore not useable, quality data.

It was really frustrating, to the point that Max had tried making several other models in hopes that something would work out better. But where akumatizations took place didn't give him any leads, either. Much to Max's disappointment, the shape that the plotted points gave him wasn't circular (which would imply a maximum distance that Hawkmoth could reach, and therefore a center point where Hawkmoth's lair was located). Instead, it curved and bulged, the number of akumatizations more dependent on population and neighborhood traffic than anything else. There was, of course, an edge to the akumatizations that had fewer akumatizations per capita, but it didn't tell Max anything that he hadn't known before.

Max was very much stuck, and it was frustrating.

"I would try to get the word out to increase the number of people collecting data, but I worry that that could backfire," Max told Markov, pushing away from his computer. If he stayed close to it for much longer, he would probably be tempted to fiddle with the codes in an effort to somehow increase the value of the data he had collected or something. "If word gets out about what I'm trying to do, then there's a chance that Hawkmoth will find out about it and change up what he's doing. He could move locations on a regular basis, or change up how long he takes to respond to each instance of anger. This is our most likely path to success, so I don't want to risk messing it up."

Markov considered that. "Yes, speeding up our data collection is not worth risking gaining Hawkmoth's attention. I would say that trying to recruit others via a public platform such as the Ladyblog would be a major blunder. Would asking your friends carry a small enough risk to be worth it?"

Max considered that before shaking his head. "I worry that they would talk to other people and word could spread that way. It would be all too easy for someone to overhear what I'm trying to do but not catch why it needs to stay so secret. Or- well, I've heard of Alya doing things immediately after being told not to because she thought that she knew better. She might think that I'm being paranoid about Hawkmoth finding out about the project and post on the Ladyblog anyway." He knew Alya meant well, but... well, she tended not to always think before jumping, particularly in relation to superhero things.

(Max was 86% sure that Alya's little video about the strange symbols on possible Miraculous holders on paintings and sculptures at the Louvre had helped Hawkmoth make the connection between the strange sculpture there and the Miraculous. The chances of that not being the case and Hawkmoth simply happening upon the- what had the newscasts called it? Feast?- the same day that it was unveiled were... well, low.)

"Any of them might tell other friends in an effort to help and end up losing the message of how important it is to keep this project secret," Max added after a small pause. He didn't want to entirely single Alya out, after all, even if she did have the biggest platform and relatively low impulse control when it came to the superheroes. "I suppose I might be able to make up a different reason for wanting that particular data and be able to recruit a couple more people, but would it make a difference? After all, we all go to the same class in the same school. The likelihood that they would see something that I would not is relatively low."

Markov considered that. "I suppose."

"I guess that I'll just have to keep doing what I'm doing and hope that I eventually get enough data," Max said with a sigh, sending one more glance at his computer before getting up. "I don't want to give up. Eventually, it has to work."

Another week passed and brought with it exactly one more useable data point and a rather unwelcome realization.

Max needed more data, sure. But he needed more varied data. The large majority of the points in his very small data set came from akumatizations at the school. That caused way too much opportunity for error. Really, he needed a lot of data points from a wide variety of locations to try to ensure that he was getting data from all sides of Hawkmoth's lair. That would decrease his margin of error enough to- in theory- pinpoint Hawkmoth's location exactly.

He could keep collecting data points at school all he wanted, but they would only keep getting less and less valuable because they would just tell him the exact same thing that the first points had. Sure, they weren't completely useless, since then Max could look at the variation in response time, but they weren't nearly as useful as points from completely new locations would be.

It. Was. Frustrating.

Max scowled at the air, pen tapping the pad of paper that he had pulled out to help him brainstorm a new plan of attack. The TV was playing in the background, a bit of background noise to help Max think, but he still wasn't coming up with any new ideas.

He couldn't just skip school and wander around the city in hopes of finding people who were getting mad. That would be impractical.

Once summer arrived, perhaps Max could try to stake out spots that tended to see a lot of people akumatized, specially selected to give him as much information as possible- or, to put it more clearly, spots that weren't close to the school. There were a number of parks in the area, or places where tourists and locals alike got fed up with congestion and lines and overly-aggressive pigeons-

"Aha!" Max exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Mr. Pigeon!"

Markov blinked at him. "Pardon me?"

"Mr. Pigeon- or, rather, Mr. Ramier. He's got to be one of the most akumatized people in Paris!" Max was on his feet- when had he gotten up?- and pacing now. "He gets chased out of public areas and akumatized pretty much every week. Most of the parks aren't that close to school, either. They're pretty scattered- but then that means that the chances of me happening upon him on any given day while hanging out at a certain location is rather low."

"You may be able to recruit some of your friends for that," Markov suggested. "Then you could split up and all stake out a park. If you make up some other project..."

Max considered that, coming up with a couple possible before discarding them as far too suspicious. Lila had proven that many of his classmates would accept even somewhat (or highly) questionable stories without much question, but Max didn't want to depend on that too much. If word got out somehow- he still wanted to avoid letting Alya know, because the less Hawkmoth knew about what research people were doing on his akumas, the better- it could reach someone who would be more likely to take a closer look at the story and perhaps question it.

Better to come up with a solid, logical story now than go with some flimsy cover and have it questioned later. The question was what he could possibly say that wouldn't raise Hawkmoth's suspicions.

Max thought it over for the rest of the day, coming up with ideas and then calculating the probability that each one would hold up under inspection and the probability that, should what Max was doing reach Hawkmoth, it would result in the supervillain changing up what he was doing. In the end, one excuse stood clearly in the lead.

All he needed to claim was that he was doing a public safety project and so he wanted to figure out the average window of time between when someone got mad and when an akuma arrived, which would then inform people how long they would have to calm down the angry person before it was too late.

(Or it would inform people about how long they had to get a head start before a possible akuma attack started. Max suspected that, if he was actually doing a project like that, most people would choose to use the information to save their own skin rather than trying to help prevent attacks.)

It was believable. It would make people want to help. Max still had to come up with an excuse as to why he didn't want a ton of people to know about the project while it was in-progress, but his main story was at least ready to go.

"I have looked up a record of Mr. Pigeon's appearances and categorized them," Markov announced as Max finished typing up his first draft of the Mr. Pigeon akumatization survey protocol. "And I have come up with a pattern that may help us reduce the amount of time that we spend watching for him. I have emailed the spreadsheet output to you for analysis."

Max nodded, clicking to his email and opening the sheet. On it was an analysis of when Mr. Ramier usually got akumatized on different days of the week, based off of a scan of all of the news coverage of Mr. Pigeon. There were some pretty clear patterns- the sheer volume of Mr. Pigeon's appearances allowed for some properly statistically significant results- and that would help inform where Max and whoever he recruited to help would spend their time. There was also an output chart breaking down the frequency with which Mr. Ramier was akumatized in different locations. Not all of the attacks had that information, but Mr. Pigeon showed up so often that people often took pictures instead of running.

Was it a public safety hazard? Yes, of course. It 100% went against the akuma attack safety suggestions that Ladybug and Chat Noir had released. But no matter how bad of an idea it was, Max couldn't deny that it had provided some very useful data.

"I will add the times and places that are most worth our time to my protocol," Max told Markov, already in the middle of inserting a table in the most relevant spot in their protocol so that it would be easily accessible. If he couldn't get enough people to post one at each place, then the chart would let him know how to most efficiently allocate his resources. "Based on this, we will not even have to wait until summer to start our collection. We could do this over weekends and after school."

If things went smoothly- if they didn't miss more than an attack or two- they would probably get enough data from Mr. Pigeon to be able to move on to the next (and currently undefined) part of the data collection plan. After all, they only needed so many samples at each of Mr. Ramier's favorite locations for Max's analysis.

If things went smoothly. Max had learned before that akumas tended to mess up even the most well-laid plans. They were hardly regularly scheduled (even if Mr. Pigeon did show some pretty distinct patterns) and Hawkmoth could very well decide to switch things up at any time. But provided that nothing changed drastically during their study period, their plan should work.

Now it was time to decide who out of Max's classmates and other friends would be most likely to respect his concerns and not go spreading word of the project to anyone else. Alya was out, of course, and by extension so was Nino. Max estimated the chances of Nino letting something slip- either intentionally or not- to his girlfriend were probably around 92%, which was obviously far less than ideal. He would ask Marinette, who was both far better than Nino at keeping secrets and clearly a fan of the concept less is more when it came to superhero information being shared on the Ladyblog, but...well. She was clearly a very busy person and Max didn't want to add even more to her plate. Adrien was similar, what with his heavily-loaded schedule and outings that were strictly restricted by his father.

Rose and Juleka would both no doubt be more than enthusiastic to help if he asked, but they were both friends with Alya. The probabilities of them telling Alya were in the 80s, which was not an acceptable risk.

They had good intentions, but Max knew that they might not remember to consider the drawbacks of the entire city of Paris knowing about the project.

Alix was a bit of a wildcard, if Max was being honest. The probability of her telling someone else could easily vary between 30% and 70%. It was better not to risk it, at least until he could do a bit of probing around and do a better risk assessment. It would be easy enough to do at school on Monday.

Mylène- and by extension, Ivan- were pretty low-risk. Max had talked with them enough to know that they understood the risks of- well, of pretty much any Miraculous-related information getting released to the public. If Max caught them on their own and explained his concerns thoroughly, the risk of them telling any others was negligible.

Chloe was automatically a no. So was Sabrina. Both were so spiteful and unpredictable- Chloe more than Sabrina- that it would be too dangerous to even try to include them. If Chloe tried to make another demand for the Bee Miraculous and got rebuffed by Ladybug again, she might deliberately tell people about Max's project- or at least the cover for the project that she was told- to try to sabotage the effort.

That only left Kim and Nathaniel in their class as possibilities. If Max told Kim not to tell anyone and why, he trusted his friend to respect that and listen. Nathaniel was likely to be similar, though- as with Alix- Max wanted to do some probing and do a more through risk assessment before including Nathaniel in his project.

It was truly unfortunate that Max couldn't just make a small army of Markovs and depend on them instead of all-too-complicated human helpers, but it would be far too expensive and Max simply didn't have enough time in his day to give them all the kind of attention and interactions that a robot on Markov's level required.

So human helpers it was. Unfortunately.

The recruitment process wasn't as bad as Max had worried it would be. Everyone that he talked to understood why word getting out about his ongoing research could backfire, and badly. They wanted to help, and they were willing to sacrifice their afternoons and weekends to help Max gather the data that he so desperately needed. Nathaniel and Kim even recruited two more people, bringing Marc and Odine into their group along with a couple of Max's tech club buddies and allowing them to pair up to stake out the various parks and other locations. Everyone was briefed before they headed out as a refresher and handed a copy of Max's final protocol, polished to perfection. There was going to be a little bit of deviation from the plan, since some people's parents wanted them home early, but it wasn't too big of an issue.

"I figured that you must have something up your sleeve these past few weeks," Kim told Max as they settled in at their location. They had a good vantage point of the entire park, and would be regularly patrolling the area to make sure that Mr. Ramier didn't settle down in some hidden corner. "You've been buried in your science projects notebook all the time and scribbling stuff down, like, 24/7."

"It's been a work in progress for a while," Max admitted. "A very long while. Data collection hasn't been going very well, though, so that's why I decided to recruit more people and start following Mr. Ramier. I need more data points if my model is going to be of any use."

Kim nodded. "Right! Because you need a bunch of data to make it, uh, statistic?"

"Statistically significant, yes." Max adjusted his glasses on his nose. "Without enough samples, the data may show a trend but it would be unwise to draw conclusions based on insufficient data. A few outliers or even just one could be too much of an influence on the data set."

"Right, right, of course." Kim considered that. "But why don't you just, like, remove the outliers?"

"Because I don't know that that's what they are until I have enough data," Max explained patiently. "I can't just go around removing points right now because they don't give me the answer I wanted."

"Ooh, okay."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Max pulled out his homework and started working on some of the problems for Chemistry, glancing up regularly to see if Mr. Ramier had arrived. His phone was with Markov in his bag, where his little robot friend would be able to see right away if any messages were coming in. Ideally, Mr. Ramier would show up and get akumatized sooner rather than later on Day One, which would allow them to get their data and then head home right away. There would then be a period of three days before they would have to start checking again, because Mr. Ramier always seemed to lay low for several days after an akumatization before trying again.

It was a bit sad, really- Paris just had to allow him to feed the pigeons in a specific location instead of just banning him (temporarily) from whatever park he was in and then they wouldn't have to deal with his frequent akumatization- but it was really, really useful for Max's study.

"Won't the time that it takes for someone to get akumatize be different in different parts of the city?" Kim asked after several minutes. "Or are you just looking at averages in the center of Paris?"

Sometimes Max forgot how observant Kim could be if he wanted to be. "In theory, yes. Time between anger reaching a certain threshold and akumatizations are likely to vary across the city. That's why I'll be including location data along with the time data."

Kim nodded. "Cool." He tipped his head to the side, considering. "Could you use akumas that showed up on TV? Like, someone who got mad onscreen and then got akumatized and came back and attacked everyone?"

Max blinked at his friend, then straightened like he had been kicked. Of course! How many contests had TV stations across the city held since Hawkmoth showed up? And how often had those contests ended in an akumatization? Pretty much all the time, the akuma doubled back and made a beeline straight for the studio. Sure, there might be a window of thirty to ninety seconds when the akumatization could have happened, but it was usually easy enough to narrow that timeframe down to a more reasonable timeframe of ten to twenty seconds..

Really, Max should have thought of that himself. Televised akumas were a very logical place to look.

"I'll have to dig through the footage this weekend," Max decided. He would do it sooner, but his afternoons would likely be taken up with tracking Mr. Ramier and also getting his schoolwork done. "I'll also have to think of some way to add in a little variation with those during analysis, since we don't know exactly when they were akumatized."

"Maybe the security cameras would- wait, no, never mind, that defeats the entire purpose of using the TV footage or whatever," Kim interrupted himself. He grinned sheepishly at Max. "Sorry, my mom's been watching too many of those detective crime shows recently and they always seem to love security camera footage."

"Well, it is a useful source of information in a number of cases," Max offered. He scanned out over the park, then narrowed his eyes when he spotted a very familiar pigeon-grey suit across the way. It looked like luck was on their side after all. "Though I suspect that detective shows may inflate how helpful cameras are in real life."

Kim considered that. "Yeah, I guess. They don't really show a lot of stuff how it actually happens, really. My mom has a friend who hates those shows and I overheard her once pointing out all of the inaccurate stuff in one episode." He shrugged, then perked up and pointed. "Look, there's a policeman! Ready to start the timer?"

Max nodded, pulling out his stopwatch as he watched the policeman approach Mr. Ramier. "Ready to go."

Max was practically humming as he entered the day's data in his program. His protocol had worked perfectly on their first run, and of course it was fantastic that Mr. Ramier had shown up so soon. He and Kim had been able to get their data and then retreat to safety in the building that Max had previously scouted out, allowing them to stay completely clear of the (very short) fight and even get a chunk of their homework out of the way before the all-clear signal was given and they could head home. Their group text thread had let the other members of their team know right away when Mr. Ramier was spotted, allowing them to leave their posts for the day instead of being left hanging. And to top it all off, Kim had made a very good point about using akumatizations on TV, so in theory Max would have even more data to add to his collection.

All in all, it had been a very good first day.

"Once I finish my homework for today, I want to start making a spreadsheet of contests that TV stations in the city have had since Hawkmoth's appearance," Max told Markov. He pulled out his daily planner to scan down the list of assignments that he had to complete for the night. Thankfully he had already completed a number of things during the school day in anticipation to their stake-out potentially taking the entire afternoon, so finishing wouldn't take too long. It wasn't as though there was anything particularly difficult to do. "It may not be urgent, since the footage won't be going anywhere and it's not going to be enough for me to draw any definitive conclusions still, but I'm curious about what they will add to the dataset."

He was also curious about how many of the TV akumatizations he would be able to use. They would have to be ranked or otherwise marked in some way to indicate which of the akumas had a smaller- and therefore more valuable- possible akumatization window, but some might not be usable at all. How many would fall into each category... well, that remained to be seen.

"I can start doing a search shortly," Markov told him. "At the moment, I have another search in-progress."

Max blinked, startled, and then spotted the cable hooked up between Markov and his computer. Clearly his robot had been doing research already while Max was at dinner with his family. He almost asked about what Markov was searching, but then he decided against it. He had learned before that if Markov wanted to share what he was up to, he would once his analysis was complete. "That would be great, thank you."

They lapsed into silence, Max working on his homework and Markov working on whatever his project was. There was a periodic quiet beep as Markov found and filed something of particular interest and the scratch-scratch of Max's pencil busy against the paper, both of them consumed with their work. Max had to force himself to focus on his work instead of running through possible treatments for the TV akuma data points to try to improve the data.

(It was very possible that there wasn't any good way to improve the data and his best bet would be to simply rate each data point by quality, but Max wanted to ensure that if there was any way to improve the data that he would be harvesting, he would think of it.)

Across the room, Markov let out a pleased little chirp before diving into research again. This time when Max glanced over, his computer screen was rapidly flashing through web pages that he recognized as belonging to different TV stations across the city. Clearly Markov had completed whatever research that he had been working on before and had moved on to Max's project.

Hopefully he would find a good number of contests and associated akumas.

Ten minutes later, Max finished up his homework and turned his attention to Markov. The computer screen was still flashing furiously, though it seemed- based on the progress bar flashing across the part of Markov's screen where his "eyes" usually were- that they were in wrap-up phase, doing a final check for anything that might have been missed earlier.

Really, Max wasn't sure what he would do without Markov. It was so nice to be able to get help with his various (non-school) projects. Whenever he hit a snag with coding or ran into trouble with deciding what model or statistical test or equation to use, Markov was already on the job and looking up resources for Max to reference. And while Max wasn't allowed to let Markov help him on school projects- he had had to sign an agreement saying that he wouldn't have his robot do his research for him- Markov was allowed to help Max study by quizzing him and it was very helpful.

"Done!" Markov announced with a triumphant beep. "I have produced a spreadsheet of all of the contests held by TV stations in the city since Hawkmoth's first appearance and links to all of the videos. Some of them have accompanying articles that mention an akuma showing up during the contest, but not all of them mention it."

"I'll start with those, then. Thank you." Max scooted his chair over to his computer, eyes scanning the spreadsheet that filled the screen. There were a fair number of contests to filter through, which was...well, it was odd. One would think that common sense would dictate that people should stop creating opportunities that were absolute breeding grounds for high, akuma-attracting emotions, but- as with the case of Mr. Ramier- clearly that was not the case.

If it weren't for the fact that Max was actively using those opportunities in his favor, he would bring up the odd contradiction directly to the mayor. Chloe would no doubt protest- she still seemed to be under the impression that she would get the Bee again eventually- but Max could point out the economic impacts that the frequent akuma attacks were having on the city. Taking actions to potentially reduce the number of attacks could be the first step in redeeming Paris's reputation in the eyes of the rest of the country and all of the potential tourists that were currently avoiding the city.

Of course, taking Hawkmoth and Mayura down permanently would have a far larger impact, so Max would simply let things run as they were for the time being. Once he had gotten all of the data that he needed from his sources he would approach the mayor, but there was really no telling how long that would be.

"Before you dive too far into the TV contest research, I have come up with another idea to increase the breadth of our investigation," Markov announced, and Max perked up. Another idea? It seemed like they were on a roll now. "How open are you to illegal activity?"

Max sent his robot an absolutely aghast look. That wasn't what he had been expecting! "Um, not at all open!"

Markov tilted his head to the side, considering Max. "Even victimless illegal activity?"

"Uh." Morally, Max still wanted to say no, but he had to admit that part of him was curious. "What, exactly, are you considering?"

"Earlier, your friend Kim mentioned using security camera footage to figure out when exactly contest contestants got akumatized," Markov told Kim. "There were, of course, logistical issues with the suggestions, primarily the fact that security camera footage is not immediately available to the public."

"We would have to ask for it, which would mean telling more people about my project," Max added. "And there's no way to confirm that all of them would keep the secret, or that none of them are connected to Hawkmoth in any way."

"Precisely. So we need to bypass the human factor and hack into the security camera footage of places where akumas appeared. If we can see both when they got upset and when they got akumatized, the time stamps on the footage should tell us how long it took for the akuma to arrive. After that, we can find the coordinates for each of the locations." Markov turned fully to face Max. "I have been looking into the feasibility of the hacking and come to the conclusion that it would not be terribly difficult. Some locations may allow for remote hacking, while others would require me to enter the building. Given that temperatures are rising, it is likely that I would be able to find an open window to go in through and from there, locate the security desk area."

Max considered that. Markov was right: it would be a victimless crime. The buildings in questions shouldn't even be aware that there had been any sort of breech. It would allow their project to be sped up, which in turn would allow for Hawkmoth to be found and defeated sooner. It was incredibly likely that the owners of the assorted businesses that they would be hacking into would have agreed to releasing their footage anyway, it was just that- for security reasons- that they would be bypassing the actual asking part.

"So, what do you think?" Markov prompted. "Should we take advantage of security footage to speed up the process?"

"You know what?" Max asked slowly, hoping that he wasn't going to regret this. He wanted to help take Hawkmoth down, and if this was what it took, then so be it. "I think that we should."

"I hope that you're happy with yourself," Max told Kim the next day at school. He hadn't slept very well, dreams of Markov getting caught and being traced back to Max and both of them getting sent to jail haunting him. "You've gotten Markov doing crime now."

Kim perked up, grinning widely. "Really? Cool!"

"Wha- no, it is not cool!"

Max was pretty sure that he had never been so busy before in his life. His afternoons and weekends were full of stakeouts, watching both Mr. Ramier and the general public. His evenings- and the days when Mr. Ramier had just been akumatized and was unlikely to try to feed the pigeons again so soon- were full of video analysis, going through footage from both security cameras and TV shows. Every time he got a data point, it was entered in his model's spreadsheet. The number of rows increased every day, with points coming from all over the city. Markov was kept just as busy, looking up dates for akuma attacks and hacking into security systems both remotely and on-site to get more footage for Max to review.

Max had been so busy, in fact, that he hadn't really had the chance to see how the new influx of data was affecting his model's output. It would be important to eventually, of course, to see where they needed more points to get the most accurate results, but Max wanted to finish processing the absolute mountain of material that he had gotten before he got distracted by the analysis.

"I'll help," Kim volunteered unexpectedly one afternoon as he and Max headed away from the park that they had been staking out. Mr. Ramier had been spotted at Ivan and Mylène's location, so there was no point in anyone else staying out longer. "It's just watching videos to see if the person shows up and then marking down times and location, right? I have my tablet with me, I could knock out a few streams before my parents expect me home."

Max only had to consider the offer for a second. Kim was the only one of his friends that he had been willing to tell about Markov's less-than-legal method of getting the security camera footage in the first place, and therefore the only one who wouldn't question him about it. "That would be great! Once I'm all caught up, I'll have a better idea of where in the city I need to get more data from to fill out my sample."

"Maybe you'll be done," Kim suggested. "I mean, we've gotten a bunch of stuff from Mr. Ramier. How many akumatizations do you need to get your conclusions, anyway?"

"A larger sample size tends to produce better data," Max replied vaguely, wondering when, exactly, he should come clean to Kim about the actual goals of his project. He had always planned on coming clean eventually to everyone who had helped him, though originally he had figured that it would be best to wait until after Ladybug and Chat Noir had the information in their hands and were ready to take down Hawkmoth. It was possible that an exception could be made for Kim, though, since he had been such a big help in the entire process.

"Yeah, I guess I remember Madam Mendeleev saying something like that before," Kim said cheerfully. "But you have to draw a line at some point, right? Otherwise you're just collecting data for forever."

Max considered his friend for a long moment, weighing pros and cons before coming to a decision. "Yeah, I do have a- a line, as you call it- in mind. We can talk about it when we get to my family's apartment, maybe? I don't want word to get out about what I'm doing ahead of time."

Kim frowned, clearly puzzled. "Wait, you don't want what your line is getting out? Or- wait, do you mean the project in general? But what's the point in gathering data if you aren't going to be putting out the results?"

"It will make sense when I explain it," Max assured him. They rounded the corner, and his family's apartment building appeared down the block. "There may have been some, ah, misdirection when it came to explaining my goals for the project."

"Ooh, misdirection! That sounds like- like spies and secrets and all that cool stuff!" Kim sped up, forcing Max into a jog to keep up. "I can't wait!"

Max could only sigh. Really, considering that he knew exactly how Kim was, he shouldn't have been surprised by that reaction.

With Kim's eager charge leading the way, it didn't take long for the two boys to get into Max's apartment, snag some snacks from the kitchen, and bundle themselves away into Max's room. Max immediately went to boot up his computer, trying to ignore the way that Kim was practically vibrating with excitement.

He probably should have called his cover story something other than a misdirection, even if that was what it was. The 'spy' term was just making Kim way too excited.

"So, the real story?" Kim prompted once Max had gotten his computer up and started transferring some files onto a USB drive so that Kim could look at them on his tablet. "Do I get to know now?"

"I did promise." Max checked one last time to make sure that the data was transferring over correctly, then spun to face Kim. "Remember, this does not leave this room. If Hawkmoth catches wind of what I'm trying to do, all of our work will be for nothing."

Kim nodded. "I promise not to say anything! Cross my heart and hope to die!"

"Thank you." Max took a moment to compose himself and decide where to start, then dove in. "Kim, do you remember how, when I first told you about the project, how you commented that the time frame between when people get upset and when they get akumatized would vary based on where people are in the city?"

"Yeah, since some people are gonna be closer to Hawkmoth's lair or whatever- wait!" Kim practically yelped, jabbing a finger towards Max. "Are you trying to use the times to track Hawkmoth down? Like, you'll make a map of all of the times and make, like, zones or whatever like they do for earthquakes? Or maybe it was some other natural disaster, I don't know. But, like, the center is bright red, and then the next zone out is orange, and then yellow or whatever, and it stands for how much damage was caused. Are you doing that, but with akumatization times? That's so cool!"

Max blinked as he tried to follow that. "That... would have been one approach, I suppose. I decided to go for a slightly more involved model. But yes, the end goal is to track down where Hawkmoth's lair is."

Kim was grinning. "So cool! Totally worth giving up some of my sprint practice time for! So how close are you?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I have gained a great deal of data from the security cameras, but I've been too busy to look at the model output and see if there's any area that's particularly lacking. That's why your assistance will be so helpful- once I'm caught up and have some breathing room, I can look at my model and figure out what attacks will be most worth looking up." Max had been trying to get a good spread of akuma locations, but of course there was only so much control he could have over what data he collected. He had to work with the akumas that showed up, and of those, only the akumas that both got upset and got akumatized within the view of a camera were of any value to him. "That might be what slows me down, actually. If I need points from a specific area that perhaps does not get many akumatizations, I will have to wait for opportunities to appear."

"We could just find, like, a restaurant or something from that area and get Chloe to go there," Kim suggested. "She'll probably be able to create an akuma, no problem."

Max sighed. "We can't just sic Chloe on people to get akumas, Kim. That's not ethical."

"It would be for the, uh, betterment for the city, though! Upset a few people, get a few more akumas, and boom! No more Hawkmoth!"

"He does make a good point," Markov piped up. "The sooner we find Hawkmoth, the fewer overall akumas there will be and the sooner Paris's overall mental health can start recovering."

Max groaned. Maybe he needed to start working on improved human ethics software for Markov. First with the hacking, now with advocating for deliberate (or semi-deliberate) akumatizations! Markov was simply looking at the problem from a numbers perspective, instead of-

Instead of-

Well. Instead of an ethical perspective, perhaps? Except Max knew that there were studies on the effects that akumatization had on people, both the akumatized person and the people who were impacted by the attack. Creating a few strategically-placed akumas to bring an end to the attacks sooner would mean fewer people impacted, in theory, or at least less overall impact.

So would causing akumas actually be considered ethical in this case?

Hopefully things wouldn't come to that. It was a bit of an ethical conundrum and one that Max really didn't want to dive into too deeply right now.

"Well, it looks like the transfer is complete," Max said instead of debating the ethics of purposeful akumatization. "Shall we start? The sooner this is done, the sooner we can look at the model."

Kim practically snatched the USB from Max at once. "You bet! I'll be the fastest video analyzer you've ever seen!"

"Accuracy is more important than speed, if you could."

"The fastest and most accurate!"

"Mhmm."

Silence fell over the room as the two boys started to dig into their files, watching to see if the person who would later become an akuma would show up on camera at the needed times. Max made a face when his first set of files fell short- the man exited the building before becoming akumatized, which meant that he wasn't visible from any of their acquired camera files- and closed out of them, moving the files over to the folder marked for deletion. He wouldn't permanently delete them until his project was complete, just in case any of the data came out strangely and he had to refer to his files to double-check his work or in case they wanted to revisit any of the less helpful recordings and attempt to find more footage.

"Dude, is that Nathalie?" Kim exclaimed suddenly from where he was working. "Adrien's keeper Nathalie?"

Max glanced over, realizing what file Kim must have reached. "Yes, we have footage from the Gabriel design and production building. There was one day when there were three akumas in a row from that building alone. I asked Adrien about it-"

Kim was cackling. "That's so funny! That's Adrien's dad's company! You hacked Adrien's dad's company! Oh man, think about what ol' stick-in-the-mud himself would say if he ever found out!"

"Yes, I'm hoping to avoid that ever happening," Max told him. Then he frowned. "And I don't understand- how is it funny?"

"I don't know, dude, it just is!" Kim was grinning. "I mean, all of these other companies, we don't know who owns 'em. They're just some faceless corporation, you know? But I can't help but picture how red ol' man Agreste would get if he knew that a collège student had gotten into his security system!"

"I suppose." Truth be told, Max still didn't really understand the humor, but he wasn't going to keep trying. He had learned in the past that sometimes Kim found very strange things humorous. "Any luck with the videos so far?"

"Yeah! The first set had a good video of some guy stewing in his office and then getting akumatized there," Kim told him. "No analysis of the other footage from that incident necessary, right?"

Max nodded. Kim had gotten lucky. "Right. We just pull as much footage as possible. Some of it won't be useful."

"Sweet, so I can keep watching Nathalie harassing some poor intern!" Kim considered his screen. "Man, if they're gonna be cruel about people's work, you'd think that they would at least consider moving the company out of Paris so that they wouldn't have to worry about the staff getting akumatized because of the criticisms."

"I'm sure that Mr. Agreste feels that the hassle of relocating would outweigh the benefits," Max commented idly, opening another file. "There would be a lot of time lost associated with a relocation, and Ladybug and Chat Noir generally take care of akumas rather quickly. I've heard that a lot of businesses are banking on this whole issue going away within the next year or two." Was it a wise decision? Perhaps, perhaps not. Max didn't feel himself qualified enough to make that call.

They fell back into silence, working away on their videos. The next two hours passed with only a bit of scattered conversation to break up the quiet, and then Kim's mom tested him to come home.

"Hey, at least we got a good bit done, right?" Kim asked as he handed Max his notes on the videos he had watched and started packing up. "You should be pretty close to being caught up, right?"

Max nodded. He would have footage from the start of one and a half fights to finish watching once Kim departed. "Very close. Thank you for your help today."

Kim grinned. "No problem! Promise me that you'll let me know if anything cool comes up?"

Max barely paused before responding. "I'd have to tell you in person, outside of school. Preferably in either your home or mine, so that we can be sure that we aren't being overheard."

"Right, right, of course." Kim's phone buzzed, and he startled. "Okay, I gotta go. Good luck!"

With that, Kim was gone. Max turned back to his computer, intent on finishing the last of the footage before the end of the evening. It wasn't nearly as fun without Kim there, even though they hadn't really been talking that much, but Max forged on regardless.

Data collection wasn't always the most enjoyable thing in the world, but it had to be done.

"Finished!" Max announced half an hour later, closing his video player and clicking over to the spreadsheet for his model so that he could add the final row of data. "And now for the part I've been looking forward to- seeing the output!"

Markov flew over at once to hover by Max's shoulder. "Let's see it! Then I can start looking up attacks in areas where we need more data right away."

Max didn't hesitate to open the model. It took a minute for the data to load, and then little dots popped up in each of the places where akumatizations had happened. The corresponding time-lines took a moment longer to pop into place, all starting with their length linked to the base factor. As Max moved his mouse around, they pulled towards the cursor. A few adjustments of the factor value brought the lines closer to converging, and Max took the opportunity to look at the spread of points around his rough center. Much to his surprise- and relief, they wouldn't have to resort to having Chloe bully people- there weren't any overly bare areas. Some of his data points were definitely outliers- perhaps Hawkmoth had sent his akuma from somewhere other than his lair- but those could be hidden from the analysis easily enough, and so he did.

Maybe he would look at the outliers later, just out of interest's sake, but Max didn't need anything distracting him from the real analysis.

Laser-focused, Max fiddled and fussed, keeping an eye on the bar on the side of his screen that would tell him when his model had the best fit, aka when his cursor was right where the most of the lines converged (or at the very least, nearly converged). After a bit of fine-tuning and fiddling, Max finally had the center. He clicked to mark it and keep his place, then hid the lines layer of his model so that he could more clearly see the map underneath. As soon as he did, well...

Maybe Max didn't spend much (any) time up on the rooftops like Ladybug and Chat Noir, or flying in news helicopters over the city, but that didn't stop him from immediately recognizing the neighborhood around Hawkmoth's lair. There was his school, and the park that he had eaten lunch in with his friends only a few days ago. There was the fountain that Kim and Alix had had a water fight at only yesterday, splashing each other and any unfortunate passersbys until they were kicked out. There was the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, and the Grand Paris, and right in the center of it all, with a glowing red pin solidly marking the middle...

Well, that was the Agreste Mansion. Which meant- unless Max's model had gone very, very wrong somewhere or Hawkmoth was regularly breaking in past Mr. Agreste's not insignificant security measures- that Hawkmoth resided in the mansion.

Since Adrien was out of the house more often than he was in and was far too nice to be Hawkmoth anyway, he wasn't a suspect. Max could be nearly as sure that Hawkmoth wasn't any of the regular household staff, since being a supervillain would take up a fair bit of time and Mr. Agreste wasn't likely to tolerate something like that. Madam Sancoeur and the Gorilla had to be considered as well, of course, but considering that Hawkmoth was definitely a dude and Max had seen both Hawkmoth and Gorizilla at the same time (or close enough, anyway) on Heroes Day, both could be eliminated from suspicion.

That, of course, left Mr. Agreste.

"Well." Max pushed himself away from his computer, sure that his eyes were huge behind his glasses. "Am I ever glad that we didn't try asking building owners for their security footage. That would have been an absolute disaster."

The next step, of course, was to present his data to the appropriate audience. In Max's case, that meant putting together a PowerPoint that summarized his model's purpose, his data collection, the analysis, and finally, the results. Several times, Max found himself having to scale back his presentation after he put in a little too much detail.

Maybe the equations and coding that went into the development of his model were important and would be interesting to a statistician or programmer, but they weren't relevant to what Ladybug and Chat Noir needed to know. The target audience had to drive what information was presented. If they had questions, Max was more than willing to spend more time going over his model with them, but he knew that the superheroes' time was likely to be in short supply. The main reason for including any of his procedure was to convince them of the validity of his results, and Max had to remember that.

(He was still totally going to give an extended version of the presentation to his mom once Hawkmoth was arrested, though. She would appreciate all of the equations and coding that had gone into his work and they could geek out about it together.)

Finishing the presentation only took a couple days, rearranging and trimming down the slides so that they would be as straightforward as possible while still conveying everything that he needed them to. Max practiced his delivery, making sure that the transitions between slides weren't needlessly excessive and wouldn't slow him down.

And then it was time to actually tell Ladybug and Chat Noir.

If he were anyone else, Max probably would have struggled to get in contact with the superheroes. It wasn't safe to get in close to the battles, and both Ladybug and Chat Noir always took off so fast once the fight was over. Maybe in the early days of their akuma battles the superheroes would hang around, but with the possibility of Hawkmoth lurking and pouncing on them at the end of a fight, those days were over.

But Max had Markov, who could follow battles around without being as conspicuous and who could zip up to rooftop level without a problem. It still took a couple of tries for Markov to get close enough to get their attention before they zipped off, but it was far easier than Max trying to get in contact with them himself.

"I hope this is a good time," Ladybug said that evening as she hung half in Max's window. Behind her, Max could see Chat Noir lingering, keeping an eye out for- well, for Hawkmoth, probably. "Markov said that you had something to show us?"

Max nodded, taking a deep breath. He was feeling oddly nervous now, far more than he had ever felt for school presentations. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was familiar with Hawkmoth, or at least Hawkmoth's son. If Hawkmoth were a stranger, perhaps sharing the news would be easier. "I do. I have a short PowerPoint that I would like to share with you regarding a project that I've been working on. The project was an effort to track Hawkmoth down using a statistical model."

Ladybug and Chat Noir exchanged a look and then both slipped into Max's room, shutting the window tightly behind them. Ladybug took a moment to shut the curtains, too, ensuring that no one would spot them inside of Max's room.

"I've not heard of anyone using statistics to track down Hawkmoth before," Chat Noir said as Ladybug ensured that there weren't any gaps in the curtains. "It's certainly a different approach."

"We could use a different approach," Ladybug chimed in, finally leaving the curtains and joining them. "Everything else that we've tried has ended up with a dead end." She looked over at Max. "Do you want our help with data collection, or do you already have what you need?"

"I already have my results," Max told them, unable to help smiling at the superheroes' reactions. Their eyes had gone wide and Chat Noir's jaw had dropped. He nodded to the two chairs that he had set up in front of a section of wall where he would project his presentation. "If you want to sit..."

The superheroes sat. Max took another steadying breath, mentally apologized to Adrien- after all, his classmate's life was going to be changing a lot soon- and then flipped on his projector. The first slide of his presentation showed up on the wall, and Max started talking.

"Several months ago, I realized that logically, the time between emotion onset and akumatization should vary depending on distance from Hawkmoth's lair..."

Within the week, Mr. Agreste had been defeated and put in jail, immediately followed by his assistant. After some investigation, Adrien's mom had been found in some sort of magical coma and was apparently being nursed back to health with the help of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Adrien was temporarily staying in the guest room at the Dupain-Cheng house- why he had decided to go there and not to Nino's house was a mystery to Max, but he supposed that he didn't need to get every question answered- while his mom recovered. He didn't seem to hold any ill will towards Ladybug and Chat Noir for arresting his father, nor- thankfully- towards Max or their other classmates for the investigation that had led to the discovery of Mr. Agreste's secret identity.

Logically, of course, there was no reason to be upset with anyone other than Mr. Agreste himself, and perhaps Nathalie, but Max knew by now that human emotions did not always follow logic. He certainly had to admit that if he were in Adrien's place and his father had been arrested for being a supervillain, Max would more than likely be looking for someone else to blame, because his dad? A supervillain?

But Adrien hadn't reacted like that. In fact, he seemed happier now that his father and Nathalie were in jail. Max supposed that the difference probably largely boiled down to the differences between how Max's dad treated him and how Mr. Agreste had treated Adrien and the resulting differences in their relationships.

Adrien might have cared for his father, but there was no denying that they had a strained relationship at best. Mr. Agreste was overcontrolling and absent at the same time, never showing up for any of Adrien's activities or eating meals with his son but refusing to let Adrien go out for at least half of their outings as a group. Theirs was the exact sort of relationship that was on a fast track to have Adrien move out as soon as lycée ended and go no-contact with his father as soon as possible.

Or at least that was what Max was assuming, given the few interactions that he had seen between Adrien and Mr. Agreste in person and what he had heard (and overheard) from his classmates. He might be wrong, of course, but that was just what it had seemed like from that and from what Max had read online during his dives into online forums to attempt to educate himself better about human social interactions.

Either way, Max wanted to at least try to reach out to Adrien and make sure that the two of them would be okay. Presumably Adrien's closer friends had shelter and food covered, but if Adrien needed to miss class because of the trial or anything, Max could take notes to give him or offer tutoring to help him keep up.

Across Paris, people were thrilled to learn about Hawkmoth's defeat. Ladybug and Chat Noir had let on to the fact that they had had a civilian's help with tracking Hawkmoth down- that a civilian had done all of the work, actually- but, in accordance with Max's request, they hadn't mentioned names or given out details on what the civilian had done to track Hawkmoth down. He just didn't want the attention or the scrutiny about how he had gotten the data from the assorted businesses.

Sure, maybe having "located Hawkmoth via use of statistics and modeling analysis" would have been a good thing to have on his resume once he got to the age when he would be applying to university or to jobs, but there was enough time between now and then that he should be able to come up with a few other projects that would look good, ones where he didn't have to break the law to get the data he needed.

(That wouldn't look good on a resume- or, more likely, on a background check.)

Still, not being able to use his Hawkmoth-finding project wasn't going to bring Max's mood down. His project had been wildly successful after a discouragingly slow start, and the results... well, they had been incredibly far-reaching. The project had played a vital part in bringing an end to the attacks that had terrorized Paris for far too long, and now everyone in Paris had far less to worry about.

Max didn't need recognition. The satisfaction of a job well done... well, it made every minute of data collection analysis more than worth it.

#Miraculous Ladybug #my writing #max kante

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