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notasiren21 · 3 years

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26 for Lukanette WIPs please. :)

26. Party Crasher!Luka

I FUCKED UP AND JUST WROTE IT I GUESS???

Party Crasher

-Lukanette oneshot

“You mean to tell me Agreste ditched you? After all that pleading to let him take you to the party for your successful launch line for next season, he’s ditched you?”

“Kagami, don’t kill him.”

“Fine, remind me why I can’t though? This is such an ass move of his if he’s trying to prove he’s the one for you.”

“Because,” Marinette grits out, faking a toothy smile to a work couple that waves from passing, “I want to castrate and kill him myself.”

Kagami laughs roughly in surprise, “Why the castration?”

“So I can fit his small ass into the tightest pair of skinny jeans we have for our tall teenage girls.” The not so stoic girl sips on her wine, pleased with her friend’s rage. “I told him I haven’t been interested since we were 14, but him thinking I’ll forgive him if I even had a silver of interest in dating him? Fuck him.”

“Or,” Kagami drawls, long nails tapping the stem of her glass as she leans to peer over her friend’s shoulder, “You could fuck him instead?”

Mari gasps in offense, “I am NOT trying for a one night stand, no matter what you guys say.”

“No, you little mouse,” she admonishes, fully heartedly agreeing with the sentiment, “I just mean your big and handsome protective snake is here to save the day.”

Marinette’s mind took a second longer to click the pieces together, trying to make sense of Kagami’s nicknames for her friend group, before her heart thudded and she slowly turned.

There, passing by the models who had walked in Marinette’s designs and batted their false lashes at the rockstar, was Luka Couffaine.

Dressed to the nines in a very punk like and sophisticated way that revealed he very much wanted to impress her and did in fact listen to her fashion advice. Black skinny jeans only he could pull off, high top converse and a white button up with a black vest to overlay it. The cheeky and handsome bastard forgoing the tie to leave one too many buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos.

Oh, on the life of his cat Sass was she proud of him.

And maybe drooling just a little?

He approached her, a sly smile working its way to his lips as he eyed her up and down, eyes shining bright at her black low cocktail that she paired with navy blue heels.

So maybe she sometimes used Luka as a whole for inspiration.

He raised a hand, finger wrapping around a loose curled tendril out of an elegantly messy low bun, “I thought it was the models you were supposed to make the stars of the show.”

“Had I known you were gonna show up, I would’ve worn one of my bests here.”

His hand froze, “This isn’t your best? You tease,” he broke out in a grin. His hand moved further, thumbing at the collection of piercings in her ear he accompanied her with to get years ago. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Well, I’m suddenly glad I can only acknowledge this as awkward and not feel it.” Kagami noted into her class. Her phone buzzed, electing a sigh from her as she began turning. “Have fun, my mother decided to remind me why this wine was a good idea to have before she came.”

She watched her friend walk away, her other -her best friend and other half, remained taking her in and stroking the soft spot under her ear he once claimed with a mark-

The one time they admitted their crushes and strong attraction towards the other the night before he left for tour years ago.

It was the only time Luka had indulged himself in his wants and desires, the only time he had asked to and still provided her with an out. And now he still remains far off in her memories, even as he stands in front of her with that look on his face years later.

“How did you,” she swallows when his soft gaze flicks back up to her eyes with his full attention. “How did you get in? It’s a ticket only event.”

He shrugged, turning to offer her an arm and walk around. “I may or may not have seen Adrien’s post about his mom and dad going to a gala event and him going to see his cousin there. Seems like that took precedence I guess.”

Marinette huffed low, “Félix has been in town for three weeks. Adrien and I had lunch with him the other day.”

Luka stilled as a busboy stopped in front of them, offering them glasses of champagne. Luka’s nose twitched, then his lip as he turned away with a polite smile. Marinette shook her head in turn as well.

“You know you don’t have to pass just because of me, right?”

“Hey, we do this ‘young 20 some year olds unable to drink alcohol’ in solidarity together.” He cracked a smile at that, “Soda is my alcohol.”

“Alright, you can be an honorary member of the alcohol intolerance club.” Luka laughed when she hummed gleefully. “Dork.”

“Nerd.”

“So, back on topic, Adrien just really had no excuse then?”

“Ha, no, even his dad stopped by an hour ago to congratulate me and get press photos done to promote the line. All his son did for me was send a text with a sad face attached to his cancellation.”

“... I can kick his ass, you know?”

“I know, I’m just saving for a rainy day.” She laughed, stepping closer to his side and wrapping both arms around his. “So, the ticket, you party crasher.”

“Right, yeah, I may or may not have called your assistant earlier today to swipe it. I took a guess that she held onto it for safe keeping so-,”

“She’s new, I’m not surprised she just gave it up that easily.” She let Luka guide her into a dance. One hand with painted black holding hers to his chest, the other gently tugging to hold his shoulder before he held her waist.

“Oh, that, that explains a lot now.”

“What?”

He flinched, a nervous glint flashing across his features. “I may or may not have lied about who exactly I was since she didn’t know my name-,”

“Doesn’t listen to your music, already told her the sin she was committing.”

“And who I was to you, specifically-,”

Marinette tilted her head back in a laugh, Luka’s arm tightening to brace her weight, “You said you were my husband, didn’t you?”

He flushes at a memory of once getting a creep off her back a year ago by claiming that very title to her.

“Erm, no, I said I was your boyfriend and may have sold it by saying some pet name and swooning over you just a little,” he watched her eyes go wide then soft, a smile twitching to show. He stepped closer, almost pulling her flush to him, “But if that’s what you want, I can go out and get some marriage certificate?”

She flushed, lips parting and a rush of air passing them.

“Maybe call Jagged up and fly us to Vegas? I mean, we’re both looking good right now, you more so.” Her face went a shade or two deeper. She jumped in surprise when he let go of her hand to play with a tendril again on the right side, tilting her face to press a kiss to her left cheek. “God, you’re such a pretty little thing.”

She squeaked.

“What, what was the pet name?”

“Hm?” He lazily met her gaze, a dream like haze filter over them as he moved her body to sway with his. “Oh, that.”

“What was it?”

Baby, babygirl, beautiful, gorgeous- he may have said more than one.

He gave a slow and wicked grin, twirling her out and back into his chest in a swift and stunning movement as he nudged his nose to hers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased, smile spreading wider and radiant as she forgot to breathe for a second.

What. A fucking. Tease.

The need for him to make good on his words and looks hit through her hard and reminded her of their one night together that they both never forgotten. And how much she wished that was every night, as long as it ended up with them curled right around each other and love and happiness coaxing them to sleep instead of stress and loneliness.

He watched her steel her gaze, her jaw tightened. He swallowed when her height, now of five feet thanks to heels, straightened and forced him to pull up. A violent shiver rocked through him when both hands held along the back of his neck, one slipping under the collar of his shirt to scratch along the nape.

“Marinette-,” he choked.

“I’m only asking so I can show my reciprocation.” She leaned closer, kicking her shoes off into some corner and standing on his converse that every elder of theirs had eyed in question during the night. He supported her actions fully, of course. Still stepping them around in dance within a fluid motion. “Not gonna tell me, hun?”

He coughed, loudly and looked away from her to catch his breath. Watching adults cheat on spouses everywhere or everyone else minding their own business to stare at models or the shrimp on the tables.

He almost tripped when she wined in protest, her hand gripping his chin lightly and turning it to face her. His eyes were flickering between admiration, lust and love, growing three shades of deeper blue than was possible.

“C’mon, baby, tell me.”

“Baby?” He stammered out in surprise. Teenage Luka was having a fucking field day with this. “Marinette, I was only joking earlier and-,”

“Were you really though?”

“No,” his response was fast and instant, a wince playing at the corner of his eyes and his button nose scrunching in loss of control.

“Hey handsome,” he preened under the nickname passing her lips, even if close to millions called him the same thing, it paid more effect when it was Marinette calling him it. “Tell me why you came tonight.”

His neck was aching from staring down to meet her eyes now that the heels were gone but he let himself down lower to press his forehead to hers. “Because you deserve better than what he gives you.”

The girl stilled, expecting an awkward or a flirtatious remark. “What?”

The rockstar looked away sheepishly, a little ashamed. “I know you’re considering getting with him, but when I heard he was canceling on you I let my jealousy win out and I just wanted to be there for you.” He bit his lip when he felt her tugging his face back in her direction, choosing to resist the pressure. “You have to believe me when I say I came with no ulterior motives other than protecting you from going stag to your own party tonight.”

“You, you came to protect me?”

He shrugged, another small shiver racking through him when her hands moved along and glided across his neck. “And make sure you had a good night. I even asked your mom what you were wearing tonight just so I could make sure my outfit complimented yours to cheer you up.”

She was silent for a minute or so, and he waited, patiently as ever and guiding her to rest her head against his chest as he swayed them.

Luka, doing all the work. Luka, taking matters into his own hands when someone fails her. Luka, going the extra mile to make sure she has a happy memory.

Fuck giving second chances to other people. Luka is the only one to have shown her he’s the most earning of the concept and notion.

She pulls away, feeling the slight reluctance in his arms on her waist before they drop to his side, “Grab my heels.”

He raises a black brow but complies, turning to find them and hooking his fingers in the backs. He eyes them, used to seeing her shoes laying around the Liberty when she comes over or even at her own place, but he always has to remark that, “You have small feet.”

“You’ve also called them cute,” she huffs, tugging on his hand and pulling him near the entrance.

He follows, like they always do for one another. “Because they are- where are we going?” He stops them as they round an empty corridor, away from the hotel’s event room where the party is still very much happening. The heel of his palm grips tight to archway, pressing against it, the small shoes still dangling in his hold.

“Home, your place or mine. Actually, mine’s closer.”

He laughs brightly, “You can’t ditch your own party for another movie night, Mari.”

The petite girl turns to him, a fierce expression in his eyes that makes him swallow harshly. “No, but I can ditch to celebrate in getting what I really want. For finally getting what I want.”

“The Chinese takeout place is closed this time of ni-,”

“You.”

“What?” Luka wheezes, he blinks stupidly at her. Prettily and stupidly. He straightens, freehand tugging at his collar a little like he needs room to breathe. “Come again?”

“I’m going home. I’m taking you with me. And we’re gonna celebrate that I finally got off my ass and got what I wanted.”

He hums, nervously and a bounce starting in his hand, a shake in one hand, his dark brows furrow, “And you want?”

“You.”

“You- you want,” he sucks in a sharp breath, pain flashing across his features as he clears his throat. “You want me?”

Her eyes soften, a smile showing as she steps closer to him and takes his face into her hands, pulling him down to be eye level with her as he braces his weight on the wall next to them with a hand.

“Yes,” he looks awestruck as she giggles. “I want you... can you let me keep you?”

He laughs nervously, “I’ll fucking sell myself to you if that’s what you really want, fuck.”

She’s smiling, leaning up on tiptoes to alleviate the strain in his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, muffling the undignified noise of surprise that escapes him. She lets him get used to her for a second, kissing him slowly and purposely as starts to eventually overcome the shock and kiss her back in reverence.

He pulls away suddenly, a guilted expression on his face.

“Wait, wait. What about Adrien?”

“What about him?”

Luka fidgets, a quick glimpse of insecurities and jealousy showing to her before he regains a semblance of control after having his walls knocked down. “He’s been trying to go out with you, win you affections.”

He only knows of the situation, but never presses her to talk about it. It’s natural for it to come up in conversation everyday when he asks her about work knowing the stress of being twenty-two in a high end fashion company could be a bit more than overwhelming. He wanted to be a safe place to her since the beginning.

“There’s nothing about him. I’ve shut him down an handful of times and now it’s just a matter of letting him indulge himself in what he thinks are romantic gestures when me saying no doesn’t cut it. There’s nothing going on between him and I, just his belief that my crush from years ago accounts for something today.”

Luka still looks wary and isn’t touching her, most likely his conscious trying to be the better person between him and Adrien by not going out with the girl his friend is pining after.

Even if said girl is Luka’s legitimate best friend and the very same girl he’s been in love with since he was a kid.

Marinette feels like it’s a dirty tactic as she gets closer to him, trying to gauge where it’s jealousy and where it’s insecurity in regards to Adrien.

She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Luka’s head turns minutely at the attention, tilting less than a centimeter to catch her lips before he catches himself. He struggles when her next kiss falls to his lips and is soft and slow, how he always wants to kiss her.

“Remember our first kiss?” She whispers, wounding arms around his waist and pressing close to him.

He matches her volume, an adoring look winning for a split second, “Of course I remember.”

“Remember our first date?”

“At the ice cream parlor, you wore a pink skirt that kept twirling when you did.” She feels his resolve break a little, his own right to be selfish with her slipping out a little.

His arms slip around her, and he presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “Remember our goodbye at the airport?” His arms tightening around her speak more volumes than his strained, “Yes,” does.

She’s just a little closer to convincing him to stop being so sacrificial with his own wants or needs. She just has to push more.

“Remember waking up in one another’s arms that morning?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking of what he can say in response to that. Wondering how honest to be, “... every day, I think of that morning every day.”

She still hears the clipped apprehension in his voice. That tone she knows so well that’s gonna lead into him giving her advice to rethink this whole decision and talk to him when she’s absolutely sure. How she shouldn’t think on impulse and lunge at what she wants unless she knows she does wanna keep with it.

But, he has to know she always thinks back on moments with him and that she longs to have jumped on impulse if it meant being with him.

Every time he’s showed up with takeout at her place. When he smiles so freely at her. When he bandages her cuts and blisters from working all night long.

When he showed up tonight looking like he had been her dare to begin with. How her heart felt when he admitted to lying to her secretary. The way he looked carrying her high heels that were much too small for his hands but he didn’t care because she asked him to.

How he crashed her own party to make sure she’d have fun tonight.

She’s sure she wants this, him.

All those nicknames they could call each other. All the benefits of dating the other and having a date to everything the other needs to attend. Having her best friend be her boyfriend meaning there’s no holding back from anything.

She’ll cringe about it in the morning, but it’s gotta work to break his long instilled fear of being a bad friend or person. Of being unselfish.

“Do you still remember that night?”

She’s sure he’s stopped breaking by the way his entire body seems to shut down, but then it reboots and he’s shaking against her and can’t seem to breathe correctly, his eyes avoiding hers as he swallows again and looking like he’s willing to risk going into an allergic reaction for the sake of one drink.

“That- that’s not something you forget, Marinette.” His hands are twitching on her waist, grip tightening just a little and a vein is jumping in his arm to do something to prove he remembers alright.

One more push, “Do you still remember how I tasted that night?”

He seizes her waist, lunging to kiss her desperately like he did that night and when he left, a growl passing his lips onto hers. He’s cupping the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, breathing her in and shaking against her as his resolves breaks completely and the selfish side comes out. The one that’s nowhere near as selfish as the average person, but enough to take in the matter of his own needs and wants. He pulls back, letting her watch his eyes darken, the pupils expanding until the blues are next to near mere ridges of color. He’s watching hers do the same before he nudges her nose and kisses her slowly, more loving and affectionate. His control slipping back into place and resulting in the Luka she so loves regaining the handles of his own mind.

He’s careful in the way he tugs her lip with his teeth, how he coaxes her to let him kiss her fully before pull back and panting against her lips.

“Yes, I remember,” his voice is rough and he has to glance away from her and straighten. She watches him take a few meditative breaths before he looks back at her.

“Does that really help?” She gestures to his chest and mouth, “the breathing?”

He laughs hollowly, “No, not really, but it bought me time to create some distance in this,” he glances around, “Not your apartment place.”

She laughs at the suddenly horrified look that crosses his face, the image of them making out and the threat of almost being caught in public instantly dawning on him. He glares playfully at her.

“You did that all on purpose.”

“Had to, you were just about to give me up for the sake of being a good friend to me and Adrien.” She pauses, a wicked idea forming to prove her point, “Unless, you want Adrien to know what that all is like?”

A dark look crosses Luka’s face; unrestrained bouts of suppressed jealousy, possessiveness and territoriality. “No,” he growls out, eyes squeezing shut and having to clear his throat. “I’d rather not let him know any of that personally.”

“Not even how I taste?”

“Marinette,” he warned, the growl resurfacing. She cooed, wrapping him up in a hug and pressing a kiss to his jaw as an apology. He whined, “It’s not funny when you do that.”

“No, but everything you feel is alright to feel. Don’t hold back for the sake of not being selfish. You can be selfish with me, you’re a reasonable guy and know boundaries.” She sighed, nuzzling further into his warm embrace. “I don’t like Adrien the way he wants me to, and lately, it’s hard to even be his friend. He needs to move on from me. Hell, I’m better friends with Félix now than him.”

“Just hope they don’t switch up on you again.”

She huffed in amusement. “God no, I’d kill them.”

“It’s adorable how how your less than five feet body resorts to violence and death threats.”

“Mm, except you, I’m quite fond of you.” She looks up at him, chin pressed to his chest and smiling when he looks at her softly and presses a kiss to her nose. “This, us, is not an impulse. Just a restrained want I’ve had for awhile.”

“Okay, I understand now.”

She grins cheekily at him, “Or need, if that makes you all possessive hot yet secretly adorable rockstar boyfriend mode again.”

“Boyfriend?” He smiled slowly, radiant as always and heart stopping. “If teenage me could hear you, he’d probably shut down from being overwhelmed.”

“Nineteen year old you certainly didn’t that night,” she mumbles, grinning at the loud bark of laughter that surprises the both of them when Luka throws his head back.

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me what age I lost it at, totally rockstar of me, right?” The blush that’s coating his neck and ears is adorable, a shy smile quirking at her briefly.

“I think it’s sweet, cute even.”

“Yeah, because you’re the one I lost it to.” He deadpanned without conviction. “But, I guess I’ll take being sweet and cute.”

“It’s okay though, I mean, I did the cliché of losing my virginity to someone I was in love with.” Luka does in fact shut down in her embrace hearing that. Hands jittering against her and fingers tapping like he’s trying to speak through notes against her skin.

He takes another minute, before pressing a kiss to her hair. “If this is you confessing your love to me -and believe me, it’s killing me to stop you right now, I’d rather you do it in regards to another topic and not the fact that we were one another’s first time.” He avoids the dangerous smirk aimed his way, or the sharp angle of her cocked, black brow above breathtaking blues. “C’mon, let’s go dance some more and celebrate your success before we leave, maybe find your assistant to introduce me as your boyfriend to.”

She pours at him when he tugs on her hand in the direction of the party. “But-,”

He breathed out shakily, a waning patient look in his eyes and a false smirk aimed at her. “Can I sleep over tonight?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I’m very close to just following you home at this point, trust me. I don’t care how the night ends, just as long as it’s you and me tonight.”

She’s letting him make them dance again, feeling as the nerves leave his body as he gets them to fall in step with the tempo. He doesn’t care that he has to bend a little ways down to rest his cheek on her hair, not when she’s letting him pull her up against his chest when she typically only reaches the bottom of his rib cage.

They work well together, they fit perfectly together because they’re more than used to the instinctive adapting to one another.

Her hands cup his cheeks, kissing him carefully without reservation and the anxiety, “It was only an impulse at times because I love you and have for awhile.”

Luka deepens the kiss just a little, thankful she’s the type of girlfriend to let him indulge in her as he smiles, “I get it, I’ve had my share of impulsive thoughts for as long as I’ve been in love with you since we were young. I love you, Mari.”

“Enough to crash a party for me, apparently,” she whispered, a little moved by the thought that they were finally together. He thumbed her tears away.

“Enough to kill Adrien or Félix if you ask me to,” he replied in a loving tone, soothing her gasps for air when she broke apart in giggles against his chest in reaction.

He didn’t leave after that night. And he went to every party as her date too.

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chatonne-rousse · 3 years

Text

The Importance of the Black Cat

Adrien has a lot on his mind - concerns, questions, doubts. And right now, he has only one being to confide in. There is not enough cheese in the world to make Plagg want to handle this situation, but his holder needs him, and he knows two things with certainty: his very important place in the world, and that no one hurts his kitten. Not if he has anything to say about it.

Read it on Ao3 here.

The Camembert he holds in his paws is aged beautifully, gooey and perfectly pungent. He knows it was expensive, purchased with his holder’s allowance, and therefore tries to at least do the kid the honor of enjoying it. But as he mulls over the day’s events, the first few bites sit like a brick in his tiny stomach.

Tonight, Plagg eats his cheese for sustenance only. It’s hard to find the usual joy when his holder hasn’t spoken since they arrived home.

The light in the closet switches off as Adrien shuffles out into the bedroom, dressed for bed in black pajama pants and an old white t-shirt. The departure from his usual red and black spotted look doesn’t escape Plagg’s notice, but he chooses not to comment.

Plagg discovered long ago that his devotion to his holders is inversely proportional to his ability to counsel them. He knows he’s not good at advice beyond cheese and chaos. He wasn’t made for emotions and heartfelt chats.

A sure and confident holder didn’t usually open his heart or seek his kwami’s counsel, and Plagg liked that. They did their jobs, they shared their lives, but they didn’t share their hearts. They didn’t need to, because his holder needed his power more than his presence.

But once in a while, he’d materialize in front of a human whose eyes shone with innocent kindness, and he knew immediately that they would need him. If he’s honest, Plagg will admit that these are the best wielders of destruction. It’s all about intention, after all, and a pure heart rarely destroys with disregard. These holders, however, always seemed to come with a price - they saw their kwami as less of a means to an end and more of a friend.

He loved these holders. He would level cities and wipe out species for them. But oh, did he ever dread having to talk to them. Really, really talk.

Plagg knows his kitten will break the silence soon. It’s only a matter of time. He isn’t sure if it will be to talk about being stuck in the elevator with his very good friend, a monologue that will no doubt be punctuated by sighs and soft eyes that will be quickly denied if his kwami points them out.

One undeniable fact from the day, however, is the racing pulse and rapid breathing of a boy terrified of being locked up and feeling increasingly helpless in the situation. Plagg knows very well that it happened, because he was tucked inside Adrien’s shirt listening to his pounding heart. He hopes his holder doesn’t want to talk about that, because it’s way above Plagg’s pay grade.

He also hopes his holder won’t ponder why only he was dragged through the portal to safety, or why Rena Rouge was the one to do it.

Plagg gets down almost two full wedges of cheese before Adrien sits down on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Plagg?” His voice is quiet but doesn’t betray any emotion yet. That’s actually more worrying.

Steeling himself, Plagg swallows the last big bite of cheese and zips from the desk to perch on top of the globe, facing his holder. “What’s up?”

He heaves another sigh before looking up into Plagg’s eyes, emotions still unreadable.

“How important is the black cat?”

Oh. A wave of relief makes Plagg’s whiskers perk up. The question is unexpected but definitely not unwelcome. He’s lousy with advice but an expert at talking about himself.

He puffs up his tiny chest and grins a fanged grin. “Only the most important, kid! Everything has to end sometime - except me, of course, but,” he shrugs, “we can’t all be perfect.” He hopes that will garner a smile, but realizes a moment too late that he’d started his speech talking about death to a boy who lost his mother at thirteen. Oh no, he thinks, panicking. He’s bad at this, too.

He barrels on. “I mean, creation is nothing without destruction. The very concepts go together, always. Can you imagine a world where flowers never wilt and people never die?” Adrien’s eyes widen and his brows furrow. Shit, Plagg thinks. I did it again.

“Plagg, that sounds...really nice, actually.”

He shakes his head. He can get this back on track. He’ll fall back on pragmatism like always. “It does, but that’s not how the world works. Your planet can’t sustain an expanding and eternal population. Everything grows and lives and dies and starts over again. Everything has a beginning and an end.” Plagg’s eyes shine with pride. “Only I, and my very lucky holders, get to harness that inevitability into a real power, and use it for good. Tikki and her bugs can create, but we destroy,” he pitches his voice lower, his tone serious, “so they can create again.”

Adrien’s eyes are still wide, but Plagg sees wonder and a bit of pride there. He lets his tiny shoulders relax.

“I never thought of it that way. You really are amazing, buddy.” He reaches out to scratch Plagg behind the ears with a soft smile that his kwami would see doesn’t reach his eyes if his own weren’t closed with pride and delight.

The hand retreats, and Plagg opens his eyes just to watch Adrien’s face fall.

“But I meant...how important is the black cat to the ladybug?”

"How...what?" Plagg splutters, taken aback. "I just told you, kid. Every beginning has an end. Creation and destruction are perfectly equal. You don't want to know what happens when they're not."

Adrien's eyes snap to his, clearly on the edge of a dawning horror. Oh no. Not again.

Plagg waves his paws. "What I mean is, you need each other. Tikki is never activated without me, and I'm never called up without her. We're two halves of a whole. You've never seen the inside of the miracle box," he scowls, "which is bullshit, by the way, but if you did, you'd see that the center is a circle, split perfectly in two. Tikki and I go together, and so do you and Ladybug. You can do this without each other, but you're not meant to."

Adrien's shoulders droop. "Yeah, I know she can win a fight without me. She's had to do it before." He sighs. "A lot."

"Sure," Plagg agrees, and can't resist adding, "but she wouldn't need to if you didn't throw yourself in the line of fire every chance you get."

"I have to protect her, Plagg! You know that! Ladybug is more important than me."

"Kid!" Plagg bursts out in frustration, "I don't know how else to tell you this! You. Are. Equal."

“Then…” Adrien’s breath catches and he blinks several times. “Then why doesn’t she need me anymore?”

For just a moment, in the time it takes for the words to register and translate and pierce his heart, Plagg’s ire flares white-hot and livid. No one hurts my kitten and gets away with it. But he looks into his holder’s eyes, sad and achingly lonely, and his anger slips away as quickly as it came. He’ll deal with his own feelings on the matter later.

Besides, it’s not Marinette’s fault. She’s doing the best she can. He’d still relish giving her an earful, but piling on the heartbreaking guilt about his holder’s situation wouldn’t really help and might just snap what Tikki has insinuated is a currently-tenuous grasp on stability. Plagg knows she’s making decisions based on the mentorship of a flawed man, a failed guardian who ran from his mistakes for the better part of two centuries.

Fu never understood Plagg and never tried to. None of the guardians did. Beyond knowing the basics of his power and the importance of the ring of the black cat in relation to the earrings of the ladybug, Fu never saw Plagg as anything more than a liability. Which is honestly fair, but Plagg doesn’t have to like it.

He definitely doesn’t have to like it when the rules of secrecy leave his kitten in the dark and feeling useless. Especially after what he now suspects from the clues he got today.

He looks into his holder's tear-filled eyes and sees a soft innocence rare among the long line of black cats who've worn the ring. This might just be his most difficult assignment yet, but it's also one of his favorites, and he'll protect his kitten no matter what it takes. Even if it means talking about feelings.

Once his stomach is settled, he's going to eat so much cheese to make up for this.

Plagg takes a deep breath. "Who spotted Optigami in the elevator today?"

Adrien blinks but says nothing.

"Who made sure Ladybug didn't tell her secrets to Truth?" He waits another moment, watching Adrien's blush rise and letting his words sink in. "And who protected her identity when she was hit by Kwamibuster?"

"Okay, but—"

Plagg steamrolls his holder shamelessly. "You were the key to defeating Gorizilla, Stormy Weather, Lady Wifi. I have a long memory, kid. Do you want me to keep going? Because I haven't even gotten to the times you kept your bug afloat with all those pep talks and disgusting feelings. A nice piece of Brie would've perked her up, but I have to admit that your methods worked, too."

Adrien sniffs and chuckles. "Okay, buddy. I get it." His eyes still betray an ocean of hurt, but Adrien's soft smile seems genuine.

Plagg has never quite understood human emotion, though he's seen it all in his many centuries among humanity. He's also seen the myriad ways humans cover up one emotion with another (and another, and another, and sometimes destructive behaviors and very dark paths). He doesn't much enjoy dealing with human feelings, but he when it comes to masks, he prefers the very stylish ones he manifests on his holders' faces, changing with the times and his whims and his holders' thoughts. It's been a long time since he had a holder whose civilian life necessitated so many different masks. No wonder he eats so much Camembert to recharge - it's exhausting just watching it.

"What I'm saying, kitten...er, kid, is that your bug needs you. Paris needs you. And I know that because creation always needs destruction." He snorts a laugh. "That's a fact that's bigger than both of us."

"Yeah, you're right. I know you're right." Adrien sighs and stands to pull back the covers and turn out the light. He climbs in bed and heaves another sigh as his head hits the pillow. "I just wish she'd let me help her. I...I know she's going through something."

Plagg settles on the pillow next to Adrien's, in the Camembert-infused spot where he sleeps. "Being a guardian kind of sucks. It used to be a whole big thing - years of training and ceremonies and shaving your head in a weird pattern..."

Adrien breathes a laugh in the darkness.

"Did you just imagine your beloved bug with her pigtails cut off and a bald spot shaved into her head?"

"Plagg! How dare you?" comes the reply, but his laughter betrays him. Yeah, he's totally picturing it.

Plagg smiles. "What I mean is, you know her. As much as you can, at least. She's told you over and over how important you are to her. I hear all that mushy crap, you know. I don't think she means to hurt you." A pause. "If she does, she'll regret it," he mutters.

"Please don't threaten my future wife, Plagg."

"Still?"

"Still what?"

Plagg blinks. Adrien blinks, then finally catches up.

"Oh. Well." He takes a deep breath. "I'm...a little upset about some things. But I'm sure we can work it out. People make mistakes. Besides, just because someone hurts you doesn't mean you stop loving them, Plagg."

He wouldn't trade Adrien and his tender heart for the world, but sometimes Plagg wishes he was already a bit more jaded when he slipped the ring on his finger that first day. He doesn't want to witness the moment his holder's gentle spirit is finally crushed by what he knows better than most is a very cruel world.

For a long moment, Plagg considers his answer and finally chooses sarcasm. He shrugs. "You can always just cataclysm their prized possessions. That works, too."

That startles a laugh from his holder, tired and tinged with emotion, but a laugh nonetheless. Plagg considers it a win.

They settle into silence. Adrien's eyes close sleepily. Plagg considers getting another wedge of cheese now that his stomach has calmed down a little, but the thought that this is far from over makes his indigestion flare again. Love is messy and inconvenient, the Cancoillotte cheese of emotions. But, he supposes, looking at his holder in the dark, it's worth the difficulty.

Adrien's eyes open suddenly to meet Plagg's glowing green.

"Thanks for talking to me, buddy. I'm sorry I—"

Plagg zips over to his holder before he can finish the sentence, tucking his little body into the crook of Adrien's neck and starting up a loud purr.

"You're welcome. You owe me so much cheese."

Adrien laughs again, and Plagg purrs louder when he reaches up to scratch behind his tiny ears.

"Reblochon again?"

Plagg stifles a laugh at the fact that he has penance cheese for dealing with Adrien's feelings before realizing how sad it is that he...well, has penance cheese for dealing with Adrien's emotions. Someday, when his holder is on his own and out from under the tyrannical rule of his asshole father, Plagg has every intention of cataclysming Gabriel's entire atelier, including his tablet and any backup drives. He dreams about it sometimes. Just watching the world burn. It'll be beautiful.

He sighs wistfully before answering. "I was thinking Époisses."

Adrien groans. "Plagg, no. It's so gross."

"Plagg, yes. Feelings are gross. Cheese is life."

Another sigh. "Fine. I'll order it in the morning."

Silence falls over them again, this time comfortable and warm. When Adrien's breathing evens out, Plagg heads over to the cupboard for a snack. By the time he's eaten two more wedges of Camembert and thought about the whole situation, he's decided to pay Pigtails and his other half a visit. This can't continue. They're all headed for catastrophe, and no one wants to see what he'll do if this breaks his kitten.

He takes a wedge of cheese for the road and heads for the window, but something makes him stop before he phases through. He turns back to look at his sleeping holder. The moonlight shines through the windows, casting shadows like prison bars across the room, across the bed, across his kitten. Plagg thinks suddenly of Adrien waking up alone, his kwami nowhere to be found, and realizes he can't just leave.

He sighs. He's sighed so many times tonight.

Plagg tosses the cheese in the air and catches it expertly, swallowing it in one gulp, then makes his way back to the bed.

Tomorrow, he'll find a way to phase into Pigtails' bag during homeroom for a much-needed discussion with Tikki. He doesn't want to - he really doesn't want to - but Plagg intends to do his part to fix this. Holders like his come once in a very, very long lifetime. Adrien is worth it.

He settles again on his cheese-scented pillow and curls up, wrapping his tail snugly around his body. Soon his purr matches the rhythm of Adrien's quiet breathing, and peace, however temporary, falls gently over the two of them once more.

#adrien needs a hug #and some therapy #plagg to the rescue #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #plagg #ml spoilers #season 4 spoilers #optigami #optygami #ml fanfiction #ml fic #my writing #sadrien

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2manyfandoms2count · 4 years

Text

#LadynoirJuly Days 27&28

Funny how when there’s no more rush to be on time, the will to write sort of vanishes, hopefully I’ll finish @ladynoirjuly2020 before the end of August! I hope you’ll enjoy this prompt combination xxx

---

Days 27 and 28: Embrace and Confession

Flashing lights faded around the corner as Hawkmoth and Mayura were driven away from the Agreste mansion. Ladybug and Chat Noir remained side by side on the doorstep, silently watching them go.

The emergency services had arrived promptly at the crime scene after Chat’s call, and had done a good job at making sure Gabriel Agreste was securely tied up before Ladybug could use her Miraculous Ladybug powers. The cataclysmed rock that had pinned him down had returned to the basement’s roof with a puff of dust and rubble, which could have provided the villain with the perfect distraction to escape.

The magical ladybirds had also restored Ladybug’s health, although she’d felt dizzy as she stood up. After checking thoroughly with the medical team that she was, indeed, better, Chat had engulfed her into a tight embrace, knocking the air out of her lungs. She’d pulled him in just as tight as she felt his tears drop one by one on her shoulder.

She still couldn’t believe it was over. And they were safe. Both of them. She still had trouble realising the man they had been fighting all along was her greatest idol.

And Adrien’s father.

She stole a look at Chat Noir, whose gaze was lost in the distance.

A crowd of journalists gathered around them, hollering questions in the hopes of securing exclusive information for their channels. Chat flinched every time someone mentioned the name Gabriel Agreste, although it was so imperceptible only Ladybug noticed.

Her hand brushed tentatively against his, and, seeing no resistance, she took it and squeezed it tightly in a silent promise; it’s going to be alright.

She let go of his hand reluctantly as the queries kept pouring and took on the mediatic spotlight by stepping in front of her partner, a barrage between him and the press.

“Thank you all for your support!” She called out, the crowd hushing at the sound of her voice. “I’m sure you’ll understand this was a very emotional day for all of us. We’re still processing today’s events, so we won’t be taking any questions right now. Just know that you can sleep tight tonight, as Hawkmoth and Mayura are no longer threats.” She gave her best brave smile, although her thoughts were elsewhere. She had to get Chat Noir out of there.

The disappointed journalists ignored her comment, avid for a scoop.

“Are you two going to reveal your identities to the public now that Hawkmoth has been defeated?”

“Ladybug, is it true you almost died fighting today?”

“There hasn’t been any news of Adrien Agreste since his father’s arrest, is it possible that he was working with him and is now on the run?”

The last question made Chat Noir tense up, but Ladybug reacted before he could.

“That’s enough!” She snarled at the reporters, making them back away. A camera flashed, immortalising her anger. She snapped towards the photographer, who immediately deleted the picture, cowering under her thunderous stare. “I said we were not going to answer any questions tonight!”

“Please excuse us now, Adrien is safe, and we need to talk to him.” Chat stepped forward, taking her hand. He’d never seen her so angry before. He nodded sternly at the crowd before leading Ladybug back into the Mansion.

She was still trembling with rage when he closed the imposing door behind them.

“M’lady.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Please calm down.”

“I can’t.” She clenched her fists, avoiding his eyes. “You heard them. How can they even say something like that?”

“They don't know it's me.”

“But you've been on billboards for ages, it's like your'e the only model in this ungrateful city. You can't get out without being mobbed by fans. And now they're spreading rumours about how you're conspiring with Hawkmoth?” She shook her head in defeat and looked up. Her bluebell eyes were piercing in contrast with her mask. “Why can't they love you, like I do?”

Chat felt like he'd just been punched in the lungs, in a good, nay, excellent way, as he reciprocated her gaze. Her honest stare told him she meant what she'd just said. It wasn't a figure of speech. It didn't feel like a platonic declaration.

Coming from her, right there and then, he knew it was a full blown confession.

He knew he should be focusing on everything else, getting out in the open as Adrien to silence the rumours, dealing with the pain that accompanied his father’s and Nathalie’s arrests, his mother’s death, addressing the stress and trauma from the fight, but he clang on to her words like a lifeline.

Ladybug misunderstood his silence. She’d really chosen the worst moment to confess, hadn’t she? Her eyes widened suddenly and she hid her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry.” She said in a muffled voice.

“What for?” Chat was genuinely confused by her change in attitude. Gently pulling her closer, he took her in his arms.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” She mumbled against his chest.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say about me.” He chuckled.

“Not everything is about you, you silly cat.” She huffed as she lifted her head, shooting him a disapproving glance.

She very reluctantly pushed him away and paced the paved entrance floor, shaking her head. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.”

“What?” He grinned.

“Oh don’t pretend you don’t know!”

“You mean, tell me that you love me?” His eyes glinted mischievously as he leaned towards her. His heart was roaring in his ears. “Technically you didn’t say it.”

She rolled her eyes, but was glad to see he was smiling. If the prospect of her saying the three little words she’d had so much trouble articulating made him so happy, then maybe she should just take the leap. Even if she would’ve much preferred it to be more romantic. Somewhere other than Hawkmoth’s house, for one. And perhaps not almost immediately after they’d discovered he was her beloved’s father. She guessed she’d just have to make it up to him later.

“Well, I do. Love you.” She gave him a small smile. “And, to be honest, I have for a while.”

“I told you you’d fall for me.” Chat said softly as he closed the distance between them in a smooth step. He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips, his green eyes never leaving hers. “I love you too, ma Buginette.”

Ladybug blushed and buried herself in his arms once more.

Chat kissed the top of her head fondly, his heart soaring, singing, and doing every cliché thing a heart does when two lovers just confessed their love for one another. Holding her close took his mind off everything else, even if for a little while.

They were going to be alright.

Together.

#ladynoirjuly2020 #ladynoirjuly #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #mlb #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanfiction #embrace #confession #elle writes

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tsuki-chibi · 5 years

Text

Ladrien June Day 25: Hiding

One of the things Adrien loved the most about Ladybug was her lips.

They were always soft, always tasted of that delicious raspberry lip balm she favored, and always eager. He could do nothing but kiss her for days. Who needed food or water when Ladybug’s lips were mere centimeters away?

“Mmm, Adrien,” she whispered, giggling when his hands found their way to her butt. He really loved her butt too. And he especially loved the way her costume outlined said butt.

“Yes, Petite Coccinelle?” he whispered back, playfully nipping at her bottom lip.

She giggled again and then suddenly flipped them, so that she was straddling his waist and looking down at him. Her blue eyes were bright with mischief behind her mask, and her hair was down around her shoulders. When had that happened?

Ladybug must have realized what he was looking at, because she huffed and leaned over to pick up two bright red hair ribbons from the bed. She held them up as evidence and tried to give him a stern look.

“What is it with you and my hair? Don’t you like my pigtails?”

“I love them,” Adrien breathed. “I guess... I just like it when you’re... relaxed. Less like the Ladybug everyone else gets to see.”

Her mock-serious expression gentled into the tender look that always made his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t resist reaching up and running his fingers through her hair. The dark tendrils were soft as silk, sliding through his fingers.

Ladybug opened her mouth like she was about to speak, but was cut off when the doorknob rattled. Both of them froze. Adrien stared in gobsmacked horror as the door started to open.

In a split second Ladybug leapt off him and slid under the bed.

“Adrien?” Gabriel was standing there, holding a key. A key to Adrien’s door.

“Father, what are you doing here? I thought you had meetings,” Adrien said, quickly sliding off his bed and standing up.

A much better question would’ve been, how the hell did you get a key to my door? But Adrien knew there was no point in asking that. Gabriel wouldn’t have given him the answer he wanted. He’d have to bribe Plagg to get the key later.

“They ended early. Nathalie told me you’ve been up here all night,” Gabriel said. He walked into the room and took a long, slow look around.

The hair on the back of Adrien’s neck prickled with unease. The bed covers were messed up, making it obvious that something had been happening. He was sure his hair and clothing were messy too. He tried to think fast. It was obvious he hadn’t been sleeping...

“I’ve been... hanging out,” Adrien said lamely, meeting his father’s eyes. He deliberately didn’t look at the bed, and hoped that Ladybug would stay hidden for a little longer.

“Alone?” Gabriel asked, piercing his son with a knowing look.

“Yes. Just me and myself,” Adrien said. He folded his arms across his chest.

“And I suppose you were the one who made that hickey on your neck,” said Gabriel, mouth curling down in displeasure.

From beneath the bed, there came a horrified squeak. Gabriel’s head snapped around and his expression darkened.

“Father, wait!” Adrien burst out.

Gabriel looked back at him for a split second - just long enough for a pale red light to seep out from beneath the bed and then fade. Adrien froze. He watched in stupefied horror as his father jerked up the bed skirt and looked underneath.

“Hello, Mlle Dupain-Cheng,” Gabriel said coldly.

Adrien’s jaw dropped. He watched in shock as Marinette awkwardly clambered out from under the bed. She was wearing sneakers, blue jean shorts and a cotton pink tank top. Her hair was still down around her shoulders.

“Being that it’s almost midnight, I think it’s time you left,” Gabriel said. “Should I call your parents?”

“Please don’t,” Marinette said, looking horrified by the thought. “They know where I am.”

“How kind of you to extend them that courtesy,” Gabriel said pointedly. Marinette flushed and that snapped Adrien out of his stupor.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you to the door,” he blurted out, scowling at Gabriel. He moved towards Marinette, taking in her blue eyes, the curve of her jaw, the slope of her neck. All features he knew so well.

How had he not figured it out?!

He lead Marinette downstairs, thankful when Gabriel didn’t follow, and to the front door. There he paused, taking in the mortified look on her face. She was darting tiny looks up at him, but never daring to meet his eyes.

“Maybe we can talk tomorrow,” Adrien suggested.

She nodded, but didn’t reply. Frustrated, he opened the front door to let her through. But he and Ladybug never separated without a kiss, and he wasn’t about to break tradition now. As she walked past him, he leaned down slightly to kiss her cheek and heard her startled inhale.

Into her ear, he whispered, “We can talk about this tomorrow morning. Meet me on the Eiffel Tower at 9am... My Lady.”

He closed the door and smiled to himself at the shocked shriek that came from the other side. It was almost worth the mortifying end to their night.

#ladrienjune #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #identity reveal #one sided identity reveal #i am such trash for reveals #someone stop me

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writetobuildtheworld · 5 years

Text

BLACK

Power, sophistication, formality, elegance, wealth, mystery, fear, evil, anonymity, unhappiness, depth, style, sadness, remorse, anger, underground, grief, and death.

"hello, for the prompt game, could you do Adrien from ml with the color black? i think it would be interesting to see our sunshine boy be angsty."

Hello friends, and welcome to pt.2 of my akumatized!Adrien fanfic. I hope you enjoy!

Read pt. 1 here. (Or don’t, but you might be kind of confused going into this.)

I apologize in advance if the line break doesn’t work. Tumblr is being shitty again, but what else is is new?

xXx

The end of pt.1:

Marinette awoke to a soft knock on the skylight in her bedroom. “What on Earth?” she muttered groggily. She pulled herself out of bed and opened the skylight, jumping as Chat Noir climbed down into her bedroom.

“Hi, Marinette,” he said, sitting cross-legged on her floor. “There’s something that you and I need to talk about.”

Marinette yawned, rubbing her eyes. “Couldn’t it have waited until morning?”

“No. It’s too important.”

Marinette stared at the superhero, and noticed an unfamiliar dark gleam in his eyes.

Chat Noir offered her a smile, but it wasn’t his usual goofy grin. It was cold, calculating.

This person... This was someone else entirely.

xXx

"Uh," Marinette stammered. "Sure. Okay." Internally, she was in complete panic mode. She didn't know why her partner was acting the way he was, and part of her was afraid to find out. She sat down on the edge of her bed, scooting towards the end away from Chat Noir. She doubted she was successfully hiding her discomfort. "So... What's going on?”

Chat Noir sighed, resting his chin on his hand and staring up at her from his seat on the floor. His eyes weren't their usual vibrant green - they seemed darker, somehow, yet also faded. Emptiness was not a look she liked on him. "Princess, has someone close to you ever kept a secret?"

Marinette wasn't sure whether it was worth lying to him. The knot of fear coiled in her stomach suggested it wasn't. "I mean. Probably. People keep secrets all the time."

"Not like that." He sat up straight, and Marinette noticed him clench his fists. "I mean a secret that never should have existed in the first place."

"I - No?" She laughed, and her voice jumped up an octave. Ugh. It couldn't have been more apparent she was freaking out, could it? "I don't think anyone has ever kept something like that from me. At least I hope they haven't."

"Huh. Well, you're lucky."

Marinette bit her lip, glancing sideways at Tikki, who was hiding in a crevice between a bookshelf and a portrait on the wall. "I guess so." She clapped her hands together, standing up. "If that's all you needed, you really should get going. I need to get back to sleep because my parents are expecting me to wake up early to help out in the bakery tomorrow - we've got these big orders from Mayor Bourgeois, you see - and I really think it'd be best if you -"

Before Marinette could blink, Chat Noir had jumped to his feet and grabbed her, pulling her close to him as he placed a finger on her lips. "Shh," he murmured. "You talk too much when you're nervous... M'lady."

Marinette's heart was racing, beating out of her chest. Her voice was caught on a dozen blades in her throat, ice seemed to flow through her veins instead of blood, her lungs were lead and she couldn't breathe -

He knew.

He knew she was Ladybug.

Marinette's legs became Jello and she would have collapsed if Chat Noir hadn't still been holding her close to him.

Shit. She was going to pass out.

"Marinette? Are you okay?"

She looked up at Chat Noir, and for a moment, her partner was back. The person she cared for to a fault and was incomplete without. Vibrant green eyes stared down at her with deep concern, and his grip loosened on her waist. Whoever had been there before, whoever it was that had climbed through the skylight into her room - he was gone.

Marinette reached up and gently cupped his cheek in her hand. He leaned into her embrace, closing his eyes. For a moment, he seemed to melt into her warmth.

But it couldn't last.

Her partner reopened his eyes, and the stranger was back.

Marinette shoved him away. "Sorry!" she managed to say. "I need to - uh, well, I gotta..." She trailed off. Of course her ability to generate excuses would fail her now, when she desperately needed time to recalibrate and think.

"Is something wrong?" Chat Noir asked, taking a step towards her. "You know you can trust me, Marinette."

"No, no, everything's fine! It's just, I need to - er, my period started!" she blurted out.

Chat Noir froze, and - oh my God. Was he blushing? That would have been hysterical if she wasn't so terrified. "Oh," he stammered. "Well, ah, you should probably go take care of that."

The period excuse. It never failed with men.

"Sorry," she apologized, already halfway down the ladder out of her room. "I'll be back in a hot second, I swear." She closed the trapdoor behind her, jumped the rest of the way to the floor, and practically flew down the hall to the bathroom. Tikki was waiting for her there.

"Not your classiest excuse, Marinette," Tikki teased.

Marinette rolled her eyes and locked the door behind her. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides - it's a solid backup plan." She really didn't understand why men turned into a quivering mess around the word "period," but she certainly didn't mind using it to her advantage.

"Speaking of a backup plan... What are you going to do about Chat Noir?"

Marinette sighed, hugging herself tightly as she leaned against the door. She was still shaking. "I don't know, Tikki." She glanced at her kwami. "Do you have any idea what is going on with him?"

Tikki shrugged. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's been akumatized." She glanced at her chosen. "Do you think...?"

The question was left unspoken.

Marinette sighed. "Yeah. That's what I'm worried about." She ran her hands through hair. "Tikki, he knows I'm Ladybug! This is bad, this is so, so bad!"

Tikki flew over to her. "You don't know that for sure, Marinette. Let yourself breathe."

Marinette glared at the kwami, her fear turning into frustration. "He called me 'M'lady.' He only calls Ladybug that. I don't know how he figured it out, but he did. He knows."

Tikki sighed. "If you're right, if Chat Noir is akumatized and he does know you are Ladybug, then the odds that Hawk Moth knows your identity, too, are much higher."

Marinette groaned. "I would say this couldn't get any worse, but I'm sure it can, and I don’t want to jinx myself." She looked at her reflection in the mirror. A small, frightened girl was staring back at her. "Tikki... I don't know what to do."

The kwami flew next to her, landing on Marinette's shoulder. "And that's okay, Marinette."

Marinette almost laughed. "Aren't you supposed to tell me that I'll figure something out?"

Tikki shrugged. "Maybe. But I don't think that's what you need to hear right now." She flew up next to Marinette's face, nuzzling her cheek. "Do I believe you'll come up with a plan? Of course I do. You're my chosen, and therefore the most clever person in the world. But it's okay to not know what to do, Marinette. No one is perfect. We're in a sticky situation right now and I'd probably think you were crazy if you told me you already had a foolproof plan."

Marinette closed her eyes and allowed tears to fall down her cheeks. "It's the middle of the night. One of my best friends has probably been akumatized and also knows my secret identity as Ladybug, not to mention he basically broke into my house. I'm having an emotional breakdown, and I am currently being comforted by a small, magical creature who gives me magic powers when I say the right words." She started to laugh. Or maybe cry. She wasn't sure. "Can my life get any weirder than this?"

Tikki didn't answer. Marinette hadn't expected her to.

She let silence fall. For a few minutes, that was what she needed. Quiet.

But she knew she had to start brainstorming. It was time to switch into Ladybug mode - develop a plan and use what she had around her to get it done.

"Okay," Marinette began. "Chat Noir is akumatized. We need to get ahold of the akumatized object, only we don't know what that is."

"It's probably his ring," Tikki pointed out. "If I were Hawk Moth, that's what I would target."

"That makes sense. Unfortunately, if it his ring, that means I can't destroy it to get the akuma, since only a Cataclysm can destroy a miraculous. Which means we need to get the ring off of him and take it to Master Fu."

"Taking the ring off will cause him to detransform, you know. Then you'll learn his identity, too."

Marinette sighed. She'd realized that. "Yeah. But there's not really any other option, is there?"

Tikki nodded. "I understand. Assuming the ring is the akumatized object, then at least he'll also de-akumatize. But until you can get the akuma out, we can't let him put it back on."

Marinette cracked her neck. "Alright. I think I've got a plan. It's pretty simple, but I'm going to need your help to make it work."

Tikki beamed at her. "Anything for you, Marinette!"

xXx

Marinette returned to her room, hitting her head on the trapdoor as she opened it in a way only she could. "Sorry about that," she apologized. "I was starting to have bad cramps, so I took some medicine."

If it weren't for the anxiety gnawing at her stomach, Marinette would have laughed at Chat Noir's expression of discomfort. God, she hoped her plan would work.

"It's fine," he muttered. "I, uh, hope you feel better soon."

Marinette laughed and sat on her bed, pretending she wasn't trying to guess his every move. "The midol should kick in after a while. But I appreciate your concern." She crossed her legs. "So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about? You mentioned something about a secret."

Chat Noir shrugged. "Yeah. I recently learned a few people I know were keeping some things from me. And these were people I really thought I could trust." He shifted away from the bookshelf he'd been leaning against and moved next to her on the bed.

Marinette had to resist every instinct in her body telling her to move away. She needed his full attention to be on her in order for her plan to work. "That sucks," she said gently, trying to sound comforting. "Is that what you wanted to talk about, then?"

Chat Noir stared at her, and Marinette had never felt more vulnerable. His gaze seemed to pierce her body and see straight into her heart. "No," he finally said. His eyes shifted up to her ears. "Cute earrings."

Marinette touched her ear out of reflex. "Thank you. They were a gift. From a good friend of mine."

Chat Noir nodded. "Do you mind if I get a closer look?"

Marinette shrugged, chuckling. She had to keep him distracted for a few minutes longer. "That's kind of a weird request, you know."

He smirked. "Well, I guess I've never been close enough to you to notice them before."

Marinette turned bright red at that comment. "Oh. Well."

He reached to touch them, but Marinette pulled away, scrambling off her bed and moving to the other side of her room. All she had to do was keep his eyes on her - and away from the bookshelf.

"Sorry," she said. "I just... Like my personal space, you know?" Tikki needed to hurry. Marinette didn't know how much longer she could keep him preoccupied.

Chat Noir stared at her. Finally, he stood up. Marinette became very aware of just how much taller he was than her. "Let me see your earrings."

Marinette managed to hold her ground. "No."

"Marinette."

"No!" She rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. "C'mon, kitty. You're normally pretty good about knowing when a girl needs her space."

Chat Noir smiled at her, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was only icy malice behind it. "I need your earrings.” He took a step towards her. “Ladybug."

"Ladybug?" Marinette sputtered, doing her best to act shocked. "I really don't know why you’re acting so weird tonight, but -"

"Don't bullshit me, Marinette!" he growled, his hands curling into fists.

"Any minute now, Tikki," Marinette muttered under her breath.

"It's the only way, M'lady," Chat Noir insisted, slowly moving towards her. "The ladybug and cat miraculouses, when combined, can grant any wish the user desires."

"Except it's not that simple!" Marinette protested. "You should know that! Every wish comes with a price. It's - It's equivalent exchange."

"I should have known you wouldn't understand," he sneered. "You have everything."

Before Marinette could process what he said, Chat Noir moved directly in front of her. He placed two fingers on her forehead, and energy suddenly began to seep from her body. Marinette glanced down at her arms, biting back a scream as she watched the color slowly fade from her body. Her knees buckled, and she would have collapsed had Chat Noir not caught her and helped her to her bed.

"I don't want to hurt you," he insisted. "I really don't. Not you." He sighed, muttering a curse under his breath. "I just need your earrings!" He reached for her ears.

"No," Marinette gasped. Her body was stiff, but she managed to push him away. "I won't... I won't let you do this."

A familiar purple outline of a butterfly formed around Chat Noir's face, and Marinette bit back a swear. She'd been right - he was akumatized. Sure, she'd expected that from the moment he'd entered her room, but never before had she wished so much to be wrong.

It was too late, now.

"What do you mean that should have incapacitated her?" Chat Noir demanded. Marinette knew he wasn't speaking to her. Her partner paused. "Detransform?" He sighed. "Fine." He glanced at Marinette. "Whatever it takes to bring my mother back." He held his hand up. "Plagg, claws out!"

If Marinette's body hadn't felt like it had been drained of all life, she might have gasped upon realizing who her partner was. Instead, all she managed was a weak, "A-Adrien?"

Her... friend gave her an eerie smile. His eyes were covered by a blood red ribbon and his skin was nothing short of a deathlike gray, but she could tell who he was. His arms were bare, but his veins glowed a deep red, twisting and turning up his body. On his chest, around where his heart should have been, was a red, felt, stitch-on heart, halfway peeled off. The quaintness of that didn't match the deadly black smoke curling around his fingers.

"My name is Cœur Noir," he began. "Not Adrien." He clenched his fist. "Adrien has been locked away, and he can't - he won't return until his mother returns with him."

Marinette didn't know what he was talking about, but even if she'd wanted to ask her lips refused to move.

"Sorry about this, Marinette," Adrien said as he stood over her. "I really do like you, you know. As Ladybug and as yourself. You stole my heart from day one." He shook his head. "I don't think you know how much I wish there was some other way I could do this." He stared down at her, and though Marinette couldn't see his eyes through the ribbon, she could feel an intense sadness permeating her room. "But I can't afford that anyone gets in my way." He reached towards her, the black smoke dancing around his fingers as tantalizing as it was repulsing.

Why did guys always confess to her when they were akumatized?! It really wasn't fair. "I appreciate the sentiment," Marinette mumbled. "But I'm the one who needs to apologize to you."

Adrien frowned, pausing with his fingers an inch away from her forehead. "What are you -"

"Tikki, now!"

A textbook was shoved off the bookshelf and crashed onto Adrien's head with a loud thunk, knocking him out cold. He crumpled to the floor like a rag doll.

"Don't mess with my chosen!" Tikki said triumphantly before flying over to Marinette. "I already know what you're thinking - 'is he dead'?"

Her kwami wasn't wrong.

"He's not. He’ll be fine. I think that will keep him knocked out for maybe an hour. But he probably has a mild concussion."

Marinette winced. She did feel bad about that.

Tikki's eyes narrowed, then widened as she took in Marinette's full appearance. "Marinette... Did he touch you?"

Marinette managed a shrug, even though it felt like there was a one hundred pound weight on her shoulders. "Kind of. But I got the impression the effect of the akuma was muted because he was transformed into Chat Noir at the time." She glanced down at Adrien. There was a small cut on the back of his head.

She pulled herself off the bed, allowing herself to fall to her knees next to her friend's limp body. Carefully, she reached out and removed the silver ring from his finger. She shoved it into her pocket and then watched as the effects of the akuma disappeared from his body.

God, it really was Adrien.

Marinette wiped stubborn tears from her eyes. This was no time to cry.

Part of her had been praying that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't Adrien. That maybe she'd been mistaken. But she'd recognize him anywhere.

Almost anywhere.

"I can't believe Adrien was Chat Noir the entire time," Marinette murmured. "How did I never see it before?"

"I know this is a lot for you to take in right now," Tikki said gently, flying down next to her, "but we need to get to Master Fu."

"Oh, thank God."

Marinette turned to see a small black cat floating behind her.

"Plagg, you're going to need to fill us in on everything the moment we get to Master Fu's," Tikki instructed. "Okay?"

Plagg winked at her. "Got it, sugarcube."

Tikki rolled her eyes. "Ignore him, Marinette."

Marinette hardly registered her kwami's remark. She stretched out and grabbed a small mirror off her dresser, then nearly dropped it when she saw her reflection.

No longer was a small, frightened girl staring back at her.

This girl... This girl was a hollow shell of a person.

Her eyes were no longer blue but instead gray and void of all life, and they were accentuated by bags so dark they were nearly purple. Her hair was duller than it had ever been. The pallor of her skin was ghastly in more ways than one. "I look..."

"Dead?" Plagg finished. "Yeah. That's essentially what Cœur Noir's power is. You're lucky you weren't touched for more then a few seconds, or when he was at his full strength."

"We should get to Master Fu's," Tikki said. "He'll know what to do."

Marinette nodded and placed the mirror back on the dresser, unable to stomach her appearance any longer. "Right." She forced herself to stand up, and fortunately the movement did restore some energy to her limbs. "I don't think Marinette is up for this journey. I just hope Ladybug is. Tikki, spots on!"

She could only pray they'd make it to Master Fu's before it was too late.

xXx

Chat Noir's ring was stored away in a sealed miraculous box before Plagg recounted his tale. Adrien was also tucked into a sleeping bag, with a bandage wrapped around his head where the textbook had left a cut.

"He's going to be fine," Fu had assured Marinette. "As long as he doesn't put that ring on, Adrien will remain himself, and Hawk Moth will not be able to communicate with or even locate him."

Marinette had offered Fu a sad smile. Sadness and hurt seemed to be the only emotions she was capable of feeling at the time. "That doesn't stop me from worrying."

Fu had chuckled. "Well, I would hope not."

Plagg then explained everything, from Adrien convincing him to spy on his father to the discovery of his mother's body underground.

"Oh my God," was all Marinette could say. "No wonder he got akumatized." She'd never wanted to hurt someone more in her life - Gabriel Agreste was a horrible person. Words couldn't possibly describe it. How had she ever worshipped him as a designer?!

Marinette couldn't imagine the sense of betrayal Adrien had to be going through. When he'd been ranting about secrets, she'd assumed he was referring to her keeping her identity as Ladybug to herself. In reality, he'd been talking about finding out his mother was alive after so long.

Not alive. But protected.

And worse, his father had been the one hiding it from him.

Marinette became nauseous trying to comprehend it all.

"Master Fu, is there any way we can fix this?" Tikki begged. "We don't know how to destroy the miraculous to force the akuma out without a Cataclysm."

Fu sighed. "There are only two feasible options, I'm afraid."

"That's better than no options," Marinette replied. "You know we're willing to try anything."

"The first is for Plagg to cataclysm the ring himself," Fu began. "That would effectively destroy the miraculous, but I fear the damage done to it would not be completely reversible by Ladybug's power."

Marinette exchanged a glance with Tikki. That option seemed fitting for a last resort. "What's the other way?"

"The other way is that we wait for Adrien to wake up, then have him put on the ring and force the akuma out."

Plagg winced. "Master, I don't know if that's possible, even for my chosen. Hawk Moth's will is crazy hard to break once someone is hooked. Not to mention that in this stage of grief, Adrien really will do anything in his power to bring his mother back."

"Well, he won't be alone." Fu turned to Marinette. "You will be with him."

Marinette blinked. "Me?"

He nodded. "Yes. You, Marinette, are the only one who can help Adrien fight off Hawk Moth. Ladybug and Chat Noir complete each other. He needs you."

Marinette looked down at her friend, who appeared so peaceful she could almost pretend he was sleeping instead of being unconscious.

Her friend. Her partner.

Maybe something more, like she'd always dreamed.

But that was only possible if he was deakumatized.

"Okay." She turned back to Fu, determination glimmering in her still-gray eyes. "I'll do it. I'll convince him."

"Are you certain, Marinette? While I have full confidence in you, you also must trust yourself. And I have to warn you that the effects of the akuma also will not disappear from your body until you cast your Miraculous Ladybug."

Marinette laughed, though there was no humor in it. "It's the only way. Besides." She glanced back at Adrien. "I have to help him. Whatever it takes."

Tikki smiled. "And that is why you, Marinette, are the perfect Ladybug."

Not perfect enough to stop her best friend and loyal partner from getting akumatized, she wanted to say. But she didn't. "Thank you, Tikki. That means a lot coming from you."

Fu sighed, adjusting the turtle miraculous on his wrist. "Now we must wait."

Waiting.

Sometimes, Marinette felt like that was all she could do.

Wait. Completely helpless against the flow of time.

But if it meant pulling Adrien out of the hell he'd been trapped in... Well, she'd wait as long as needed.

She'd do anything to save him.

xXx

people who were interested in a pt.2: @shayshaysspace, @sassy-bagel-to-go, @a-mahou-shoujo, @rena-rain, @ouatpancakes

(I apologize if you didn’t want to be tagged!)

I hope you all enjoyed pt.2! I plan to start writing a pt.3 soon if anyone is interested; that will probably be the final part. I’m curious as to how you guys think all of this will be resolved. ;) Thank you so much for reading!

For more ml content by yours truly check out @yespleasefandomtrash.

(if someone drew akumatized!Adrien I would love you forever okaybyenow)

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adventures-in-mangaland · 6 years

Text

Regency AU

Hey, it’s not too late, right? ML Regency AU, channelling Georgette Heyer, kind of Ladynoir, with a hint of one-sided Nino/Adrien. I started writing this literally years ago, so yay, thank you @auyeahaugust finally motivating me to finish. AO3 link to follow.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Masquerade Ball is far too disreputable an event for a Young Man of Character and Breeding to attend.

Such was the Conviction of Mr. Agreste, a gentleman of considerable Fortune and the Father of one such Young Man. It was an Opinion formed and firmly held in complete disregard to those of his son.

A Son he might have been proud to boast of, had he the inclination or the interest. His Child was Obedient and Dutiful in all things. Under his father’s quelling influence, he had resisted all the calls of Frivolity and Fashion made upon the Younger Set. Rather, he upheld at all times the Seemly Fashion and Decorous Appearance and Behaviour of a True Gentleman.

Such was the confirmed opinion and belief of Mr. Gabriel Agreste.

Therefore, the Reader may imagine, his surprise would have been considerable had he beheld the sight of Adrien Agreste, Paragon of Filiality, escaping from his bedroom in the Dead of Night. With agility betraying much practice, his Only Child swung himself from his window into the waiting boughs of a nearby tree, and from there to the ground.

Given his son’s carefully controlled athletic pursuits, limited to fencing and horsemanship, this in itself might have shaken Mr. Agreste’s confidence in his former assertions.

Had he been privileged to know his son’s intentions, he would have repudiated them completely.

For, Liberated from Parental Tyranny by the Cloak of Evening and Paternal Ignorance, Young Mr. Agreste was Bound and Determined to experience the reportedly licentious and certainly unsupervised delights of a Masquerade Ball.

In tribute to his own Spirit of Adventure and Mystery, he had elected to dress almost exclusively in black, save for a white shirt and cravat, from the breeches his Father would have considered deplorably form fitting, to the Opera Cloak and Mask he wore in Honour of the Occasion.

He believed he cut a very fine figure, as he scaled the wall dividing the street from his family property. And he continued unchallenged in that belief as he swung his silver handled cane and sauntered to the corner of the street to hail a cab.

He was not to be disappointed, and in short order – though to him it seemed an eternity – he was deposited before the entrance of the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, which hosted the event.

Given the lateness of the hour, the festivities had sufficiently advanced to impress the late arrival with the fulfilment of all his wildest dreams.

Music spilled and soaked the air, accompanied by laughter and conversation. The night was balmy, and lamps lit the way down a wending path towards an impromptu ballroom, glowing, it seemed, with good cheer as much as torchlight.

By comparison, the rest of the park seemed dark, and, indeed, as he made his approach Adrien could not fail to hear telltale rustles of clothing and snatches of whispered conversations that caused his face to burn.

A disreputable place, indeed.

However, such considerations were thrust from his mind when he finally reached the edge of the improvised dance floor.

Everywhere he looked were costumes and masks from every era and culture he could imagine. Animals. Monsters. Opera. Domino. All were present in a spectacular array of ever shifting finery.

The young Agreste had chosen for himself a simple domino mask, black, like the rest of his attire, with pointed tips, like the ears of a cat. He had been very pleased with it at home, but here, amidst such a riot of colour, he felt himself sadly drab. What had been elegant simplicity now seemed plain and the striking, nay, romantic darkness of his apparel was nothing more than the cloud of his Father’s Disapproval.

As he hesitated, a sudden movement drew his attention. How it endeavoured to do so was impossible to say, amidst the constant motion before him; had he the leisure to reflect he would have surely named it Destiny. As it was, a flash of red caught his eye, no more than an impression of the colour, dotted with large black spots.

He stepped forward unwittingly and was instantly drawn into the current of the crowd. The Lady was lost to view, but the Agreste Family were nothing if not determined. They had escaped The Terror and rebuilt their Fortune in England, after all.

So Adrien sidestepped a portly gentleman in unfortunate mustard pinstripes and neatly (if not politely) imposed himself between a pair of women wearing peacock masks and was rewarded for his efforts. This time, he was honoured with a glimpse of a face, turned in his direction; dark hair, framing a heart-shaped face and the bluest eyes he had ever been privileged to see, not quite obscured by the red and black dotted domino mask she wore.

And they appeared to be addressing him silently, piercing his very Soul.

Adrien could not blink. He felt a peculiar sensation, like his heart had been squeezed and his stomach thrown at the same moment. His breath shuddered out of him and he opened his mouth to speak.

And then a young man staggered forward, impelled by hands or alcohol Adrien could not say, and stumbled into his shoulder.

“I beg your pardon,” he said breathlessly, once he had recovered himself. Agreste disclaimed any need for apologies unthinkingly.

“I insist, I really must apologise. A fine greeting I have given you! Are you quite well, Mr. - ?”

“Chat,” Adrien supplied distractedly, having already decided on a pseudonym. He attempted to lean surreptitiously, but the Mysterious Lady had already vanished. Resigned, he redirected his attention to the Thwarter of his Hopes. “I am M. Chat this evening.”

The young man’s eyes lit with a warm smile. He was himself wearing a light blue opera mask outlined in black around the eyes that complimented his blue coat and red waistcoat.

“So I see,” he agreed amiably. “And you are a Frenchman! It’s good to see a fellow countryman, M. Chat! My grandmother hails from Paris, you know.”

“As does my Father,” Agreste admitted, surprised and pleased by the chance encounter, rancour forgotten. “How fortunate we met!”

The young man concurred heartily and introduced himself as Nino with a thrilling disregard for social niceties, as if they were already old friends.

“Have you ever been to a masquerade ball before, M. Chat?” he eventually inquired.

Adrien confessed that he hadn’t, prompting Nino to declare: “Then I shall be your guide!” Before seizing his arm and dragging him ever deeper into what seemed to be a veritable maelstrom of movement.

For his part, Adrien was too surprised to resist. Never in his life had anyone, besides his mother, touched him in so familiar a manner. He should, perhaps, have protested the familiarity, but under cover of darkness, at a forbidden masquerade ball, it barely occurred to him to question the presumption.

Nino introduced him to his friends, a group his father would have termed racy, and of whom Adrien was silently in awe. The Red Spotted Lady was not among them, but they were lively and certainly did not hesitate to sample all the illicit delights of a ball, merrily leading the young Agreste down the Path of Moral Ruin.

“I have never tried champagne before,” he confessed, after this third glass. “My Father does not believe it is a - a fitting beverage for a young Gentleman.”

Beer was a workman’s drink, champagne a lady’s. Port was the tipple of a Gentleman, M. Gabriel Agreste believed.

Adrien explained this pearl of wisdom to his patient Confidant. It was a laborious process.

“Well then, you may give it to me,” she suggested, when he eventually concluded.

Adrien blinked and endeavoured to focus on his companion.

“You are a woman!” he exclaimed.

She was.

Shockingly dressed in pantaloons and a cloak, just like a man, with hair cut very short. Her eyes seemed to flash in the lamp light and Adrien was entranced.

“I am,” she agreed, somewhat pugnaciously. “My name is Alix. How do you do?”

She held out her hand to shake his, as if in challenge, as though she were a man, and M. Chat grinned and accepted it.

“All the better for meeting you, Alix.”

He bowed suavely and brushed his lips daringly over her knuckles, in the French Manner. Or he would have done, had his aim proven true. As it was, Nino wisely chose that moment to intercede.

“You are a little foxed, my friend,” he remarked with a faintly bemused smile, taking care to steer him in another direction.

“No!” Adrien replied, outraged. “I am a cat. I should have thought that was - that was obvious.”

“Indeed it is,” Nino allowed, peaceably.

Adrien permitted himself to be settled, leaning against Nino on a stone bench by a small hedge maze.

“It is a very fine thing, to be a cat,” he confided abruptly. Nino only hummed encouragingly, so he continued. “Just so. I can - I can go anywhere now that I am a cat. And I can do as I like. Father wouldn’t know. I am - I am disguised.”

“That you are,” Nino agreed, rather dryly, and it took Adrien a few moments to grasp his meaning, his thoughts dripping slowly, like pouring treacle.

“I am not drunk,” he complained.

“Are you not?”

“Of course not. A gentleman never drinks to - to excess, my father says. I could not be drunk. He would never allow it.”

“Your father is not here.”

“No!” A blinding smile broke across his face. “You are right! I can be drunk. Can I not?”

His face fell again with such tragic and sudden despondency that Nino rushed to assure him.

“Certainly, you can!”

“Good. I am Chat. I can do as I please. And I am drunk. And you are - you are Nino!”

“That is actually my given name.”

Adrien wasn’t listening. Instead he mused aloud.

“Yours is a very fast set… My father was right. Masquerade balls are terribly improper. I am so glad.”

Nino made a sound unbefitting a gentleman and Adrien grinned, craning his neck to peer up at his faithful sentinel.

“I like you very much,” he confessed.

It was surely a trick of the lamplight, but his new friend seemed a little flushed.

They lapsed into silence for a time, their conversation resting comfortably, rather than stifled by Paternal Disapproval or Youthful Awkwardness.

They could hear music, but Adrien noted that, away from the main body of dancers, it was quieter and a little darker here.

He recalled the Whispers in the Dark, and thought quite suddenly of the Red Spotted Lady. What a fine thing it would be to steal away from all the others and converse privately! He was certain she had a very beautiful voice which, he was convinced, must accompany a very fine mind. There had been intelligence in that keen gaze, he knew.

“I saw a Ladybird,” he confessed.

Nino jerked, apparently not expecting further conversation.

“I beg your pardon?”

“A Ladybird. That is to say, I believe I did. Her dress and mask were red and spotted black, like a ladybird.”

“Oh, I see,” Nino replied. “La Coccinelle. We call her the Ladybug here. It is the American phrase. ‘pon rep, M. Chat, you can’t call a Woman of Character a lady-bird.” He lowered his voice, and appeared most uncomfortable. “Didn’t you know? That is what they call a Woman of - ah - Easy Virtue.”

Adrien was aghast.

“I did not know that,” he admitted. “I would never say such a thing about anyone.”

Nino patted his hand understandingly and Adrien considered himself forgiven. Confidence restored, he pressed on hopefully.

“Do you know who she is, by any chance?”

Nino rolled his eyes, for his own inscrutable reasons, but nodded and obliged Adrien’s curiosity, though rather unsatisfactorily.

“No one knows who she is. Upon my soul, she is a Lady of Mystery. But she must be very fond of masquerade balls, as she never fails to attend one, and always, as I said, as La Coccinelle. And all the ladies of my acquaintance agree that her modiste must be all the crack, because her turnout is unerringly exquisite.”

Adrien, who had noticed nothing about her clothes, other than that they were red, made a noise of agreement. Nino smiled knowingly and tapped his knee.

“You will have to attend the next Masquerade, will you not, mon ami? If you hope to set your cap at her.”

Adrien agreed with alacrity and Nino laughed, seeming gratified.

For his part, Adrien treasured hope and the promise of another Masquerade Ball in his heart.

Blissfully forgetting that his Father, had he known of it, would have had a Conniption.

#auyeahaugust #miraculous ladybug #regency au #ladynoir #adrien agreste #ml nino #marinette dupain-cheng #I will add a regency slang dictionary if need be #au august

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callmeakumatized · 6 years

Text

My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend - Ch. 19

Prev. Ch. Ao3 ff.net Next Ch

- Present -

"Marinette? How do you know my Kwami's name?"

Adrien slipped his phone back into his pocket, never taking his eyes off of Ladybug's face. Her entire frame froze at the question, the only hint that she had heard him at all was a pink tinge appearing at the edge of her mask. The image made Adrien a little more than suspicious. He didn't know if her silence was from thinking about how to reply or if she simply refused to reply at all…and he didn't know which aftereffect would be worse. Before he could voice any further concerns or questions, though, Ladybug opened her mouth.

"You told me," she said simply, angling her further incriminatingly-blushing face out the not-wide-enough-to-escape crack of the door. Adrien snorted at the obvious lie.

"I did not," Adrien retorted, matching her same false-easy tone.

"Uh, yeah, you did."

Oh, so we're going to play this game? Adrien tried and failed to not roll his eyes. When she crossed her arms over her chest in defiance at the look on his face – he probably looked like he didn't believe her at all because she was lying through her teeth – Adrien did the same.

"I did not," Adrien reiterated, raising his voice a little and his eyebrows a lot in an unmistakable challenge.

"Well, you did, so –"

"Marinette, I did not – !"

Two gloved hands suddenly slapped over his mouth. Adrien had taken a step forward in the small space so he could be directly in front of her; he needed her honesty right then, to see it in her eyes, yank it from her if he had to. Yet, at her touch, he stopped, the force of the action almost pushing him backward.

Ladybug's features had contorted to an upturned snarl. The tiny nose on her face shot like an arrow into the air, as if she were trying to make herself appear more intimidating even though she lacked the stature Adrien possessed. The look was, admittedly, piercing enough, though the ferocity of it was thrown off by the myriad of red hues painting her face. She was completely flushed. Adrien could see the heat on Ladybug's ears and neck as clear as he had ever seen it on Marinette's face, even here in the dimness of the closet. Her conflicting reactions caused Adrien's brow to crease with something like annoyance. Two hands grasped her own firmly, moving to remove them from his pursed lips. To Adrien's surprise, Ladybug willingly acquiesced, putting up no resistance to his touch or otherwise. The surrender was so incomprehensively foreign to Adrien that he paused in his motions to study her face. But while he searched for answers, he was instead met with a transformation that only added to his bewilderment.

All of Ladybug's willpower seemed to cave in to the blush at his touch. Her eyes widened, losing every ounce of animosity. The skin that wasn't red or covered by a mask (which, really, would count in the 'red' category) blanched. The leering expression was gone, too, replaced by an open-mouthed stare.

Ladybug, the superheroine of Paris, was abruptly the stark picture of doe-like innocence and timidity.

And, frankly, the whole picture scared Adrien to death.

No, it wasn't because of some secret she had kept from him all this time that had just blown up in her face

It was because, for some reason, Ladybug looking stunned was absolutely stunning.

Adrien, brain forgotten, pushed away his previously-inflamed desire to uncover another one of his girlfriend's secrets in pursuit of some more immediate gratification to his unceasing curiosity. He tentatively dropped her hands to his chest, then slowly, deliberately, Adrien let his fingers ghost a trail up her arms, pressing the tips gently into the strange material of her suit. It was an odd mixture of hards and softs, like silky armor. The feel was soothing, but the strength of it practically radiated through the thin layer.

Adrien huffed out a small laugh. Fitting, he thought to himself. Her suit was all disguised toughness, layers of beauty covering a shell made of diamonds. It was so Ladybug and so Marinette that it made him grin to himself.

It was a funny thing. In his dream (latest dream, as he had, admittedly, many dreams involving all sides of their "Love Square"), his dream-self had halted its physical recognition at her suit. He figured it was because his conscious hadn't been able to even think of what her suit (or his suit, for that matter) could possibly feel like.

But…Ladybug's suit?

Adrien had felt this before…

Adrien had barely managed to escape The Gorilla. The man had learned his tricks over the years, and while he turned a blind eye every blue moon or so, the staunch bodyguard had put up more resistance today.

Sure, shouting "Akuma!" like a lunatic when they had walked by a rather innocent-looking mime and running away screaming might not have made him seem very brave - or sane. But when all his other plans had failed, desperation had taken over with a vengeance.

(For his own future reference: Desperate Adrien was surprisingly stupider than Desperate Chat.)

Adrien nearly passed out from sheer exertion, but never slowed. He could see it, the mouth of the alley they had agreed to meet in, and it spurred it on.

"They", in this instance, meaning him and some crazy person.

Meeting in an alley.

Away from his bodyguard.

…He really needed to get Plagg back.

Thoughts of Plagg and Adrien's own pathetic musings of how he would ever explain this to His Lady (he wouldn't, that was that) pulled unpityingly at the end of his nerves. A breakdown was imminent if he didn't get Petit Chat Destructeur back on his person and away from any –

An almost sickening crack sounded somewhere between Adrien's shoulder and hip bone when he slammed unceremoniously against another form after taking the turn into the alley a bit too sharp. The two rounded over each other before meeting the wall of the one of the buildings in a two-body sandwich, Adrien sinking temporarily into a fog-filled stupor.

Really, he should have been paying better attention to what he was currently doing. Especially when running at I-Lost-My-Kwami-and-I'm-Running-Away-From-My-Babysitter kilometers per hour.

Struggling to find purchase before effectively flattening whoever was under him, Adrien's hand padded around for a moment before feeling something and grasping onto it. He stopped when his hand slipped, the slick texture he had slipped upon proving immediately to be ill-equipped at holding his weight.

The figure froze under him, but Adrien, still blinking spots out of his eyes, didn't –

Wait.

The figure…

Figure!?

Clarity smacked him in the face like a wet tuna on a barbecue.

He was on TOP OF SOMEBODY.

Adrien's eyes chanced a little peek down when the PERSON BENEATH HIM ripped the photo he had nicked from his unoccupied hand.

His "occupied" hand lent the helpful hint: this is a girl.

It was definitely a girl.

Move your hand, dummy! Adrien's brain yelled at him.

Where!? Adrien feebly replied.

He peeked over at the girl's face but saw nothing but some strange assortment of things that would have his father vomiting for the next month. It was a very…bewildering girl, covered in things too large or too ridiculous as some sort of "disguise" over a…was that a Ladybug suit?

Ladybug?

Wait…

No…

It wasn't…couldn't actually be…

…Yup, it was.

That was the crappiest replica of a mask Adrien had ever seen.

Adrien double-checked to make sure the hoopla-wearing she-beast who stole Plagg (presumably, though he had yet to see him, though he swore he heard snickering in the garbage can earlier) and his phone was sufficiently distracted. Then, tentatively, he lifted up the giNORmous t-shirt she had put on and trace his fingers along the material he had felt just a moment before.

The strange, almost "magical", red material with black. Spots.

But why would…? And how…? And why –

Adrien, hand still unabashedly feeling the midriff area of the female stranger, was cut off from his thoughts that were one step away from entering Crazyville when a dreamy sigh came from whoever was on the other side of that photograph.

"You can touch more of that if you want to."

Adrien didn't remember much after that. Except being so red for the rest of that evening he was forced to stay home from school the next day because Nathalie had thought he had contracted some type of heinous fever that caused hallucinations.

In all honestly, Adrien had wondered the same thing. For months. Until the ordeal was all but forgotten, stored and locked away in that corner of his mind where rested the giant filing cabinet labeled: "Things Ladybug Will Never Hear From Me."

It was some type of cruel irony that he was being forced to relive many of these events now simply from the realization that Ladybug had been a part of them all along.

"You can touch more of that if you want to."

Adrien, modest model that he was, had blushed from this simple line before because he had been caught sorta-accidentally feeling-up some girl in a dark alleyway while somewhat crouched over her.

Adrien, Chat Noir that he was, was blushing now because he truly knew, for the first time, who had actually said those words, all while he was crashed on top of her in a dark alleyway and she was ogling a (technically) stolen photo of him.

Ah, la vache!

"You–"

Adrien not-figuratively-at-all choked on his words when he attempted to speak upon his sudden comprehension. Ladybug only tilted her head back at him, the pretty picture of confused innocence that was doing N-O-T-H-I-N-G to help keep his thoughts from crashing off the rails. After taking a step back, pulling his gaze away, and making a right show of clearing his throat, Adrien tried again.

"Y-You're the crazy stalker girl."

The little bubble of awkward companionship they had been sharing inside this small space tangibly popped.

"What?" Ladybug squawked, a little higher-pitched than it had been previously.

"You're the crazy stalker girl!" Adrien's fingers were in his hair now, and he pulled the ends in pent-up frustration at, well, just about everything. There wasn't much room to pace in th closet, but Adrien was making good use of the tight space.

"You're the one who stole my phone," he accused again, the words coming out as more of a statement than truly incriminating. It was fact; she knew it, and he knew it now too. "And Plagg! And OH MY GOSH – !"

"It wasn't that big of a deal!" Ladybug squeaked out hurriedly, her usual self-confident and slightly indignant self starting to peek through the cracks of her guiltless façade. Though her tone was nothing short of powerful, Adrien noticed her eyes darting to the side, like she knew better.

They both erupted at once.

"You stole my Kwami! And I –"

"It was Alya's fault! She –"

"– panicked! You made me panic –"

"– did something so stupid –"

"– can't believe how irresponsible –"

"– and it shouldn't have even happened –"

"– and it was all your fault!" they ended together.

The phrase "staring daggers" would have fallen short here. Between their heaving chests sat a hot spark of something, but it felt less like actual hostility, or malice, and more like…

Ladybug, eyes still furrowed in deep lines by the shadowy darkness, glanced quickly at his lips.

…yeah. Something like that.

Suddenly the question of how the cheese and biscuits any of that mess was his fault melted away into some sort of hope that maybe everything was in the clear now. Had they played everything yet? Were all their cards on the table?

Adrien's attention was drawn to Ladybug biting her lip and…watched in silent agony when she peered at his own again.

Nnnnggg…

How many years – years – had they been together now, and somehow it still surprised Adrien beyond anything that this girl, this amazing young woman, wanted him.

Wanted him enough to steal his phone and his Kwami and dress up in something Gabriel Agreste would have sent an army of Akumas to annihilate had he seen it just to somehow get everything back to him. The reasons, really, were lost to him at that moment. He, well, he had learned that he really should trust her now.

Because, frankly, that's what you do in a committed relationship.

(And because that's what you do in cases of self-preservation when your girlfriend is a super-powered bug-lady that will kill you if you ever doubt her ever, ever again.)

Adrien's brain begged a reboot.

Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, Adrien's hands moved involuntarily closer to His Lady's face. That dream, that antagonizing dream, was still fresh in his mind (obviously), and, noting that they were quite free of their Kwami wardens for the moment, Adrien was anxious to make sure that in his next dream, he got the full 4D experience.

The softness of her hair had barely brushed against his fingers, and Ladybug nearly slumped forward into him in repressed eagerness at the touch. The excitement she emanated caused Adrien's hands to tremble, his face growing warmer by the second. Her eyes fluttered closed, and Adrien's heart swelled at the action.

She trusts me, too.

This thought, above everything else, pushed the temptation to kiss her into overwhelming proportions. Why this small physical contact that nearly everyone in the world shared with someone was so precious to him, to them both, he didn't know. It could come from constantly living in near-death experiences, or perhaps was born from the fact that they had shared and/or rescued each other from those life-threatening instances. Perhaps it was just that their eyes had seen and their hearts had felt things that they instinctually knew no one else – excepting, perhaps, other Miraculous users – had experienced.

Or maybe it was because they were so bum blasted attracted to each other.

And while he could sit and philosophize on why "each time felt like the first time", Adrien was just trying to take it all in that this – this Adrien and Ladybug thing happening right here – was something new between them.

Ladyrien? he mused, tracing the lines where her mask met her skin.

Ladrien? He tried to pointedly ignore the shaky breath Ladybug let out. Did they really have no more secrets between them? The thought itself was rather intoxicating.

Adribug?

A smile played on Adrien's lips as he bent his head lower to where she stood, waiting. A feeling of déjà vu washed over him as his hands moved slowly over Ladybug's rosy cheeks, her feverish skin igniting his own. He cradled her head and he could feel her expectant smirk.

"Adrien…"

Yup, Adribug, he smiled against her lips, definitely Adribug…

"– better get up there quickly, there was like…ah geez."

There was a lot of banging and yelping that met Plagg when the little cat finally looked around at the scene he had just interrupted. The Kwami was talking through a partial mouthful of cheese already, but after surveying the wreckage at his feet, he rolled his eyes and shoved the rest of his wedge in.

Adrien, covered in several varieties of cleaning products and what smelled like paint, shot Plagg a death glare. Ladybug, lady luck that she was, had merely jumped at the sound of Plagg's voice, remaining unscathed by their surroundings.

Adrien had skittered like a shot cat.

"Wha?" Plagg scoffed at Adrien's indignance, hardly succeeding at speaking intelligibly around his now bigger mawful of cheese. "S'nah muh faul' 'ou waided 'il now to tasd 'ur own sweets."

All the progress Adrien had made in righting himself under the closet debris came crashing down – literally – when the blond-haired boy's understanding of Plagg's statement finally clicked.

[[ Translation, in case you don't read/speak over-stuffed Kwami:

What? It's not my fault you waited til now to taste your own sweets. 8) ]]

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sadrien · 7 years

Text

prince of cats

chapter six: good pilgrim

on ao3 || on ffnet 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

kind of forgot it was an update day because i have something i need to finish for a friend and i'm stressed

enjoy!!!

“It wasn’t a date,” Marinette says, holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she unfolds fabric. “We sat on the couch and watched a bad Hallmark movie.”

Nino scoffs on the other end. “Mari, I hate to break it to you, but that’s basically what mine and Alya’s last date was.”

Marinette rolls her eyes. “This is the difference: you two are dating. Adrien and I are not.”

“Sure, sure,” Nino drawls.

“The intention is different,” she insists. “Anything can be a date if there are romantic intentions.”

“How do you know there weren’t any?”

Marinette puts down the fabric. “Why are we friends again?”

“Because you love me,” Nino says with a smile in his voice. “And because I gave you crackers on our first day of school.”

She hums and goes back to her fabric. “I’m still pretty sure you’re seeing things that aren’t there.”

“And I think you aren’t letting yourself consider the possibility that Adrien likes you back because you like him so much.”

She scoffs. “If you say that I’m afraid of getting hurt—”

“Isn’t everyone a little afraid of getting hurt?” Nino asks. “I feel like that’s a very human thing to be afraid of, you know?”

Marinette raises her eyebrows. “That’s very deep, Mr. Lahiffe.”

“I can be deep if I try.”

“Yeah I remember our three in the morning sleepover talks.”

Nino laughs. “Aw man, yeah those were great. We should do that again.”

“We’re grown adults,” she reminds him.

“And? Who cares. Let’s have a sleepover, Mar. Just like old times. You, me, Alya— hell, we can even invite Adrien to the fun.”

“Oh god no.” Marinette steps away from her kitchen table. “If you really loved me, you would never do that. I do not want Adrien witnessing the disaster that is me after one it the morning.”

“But after one in the morning Mari is the best Mari!” Nino protests.

Marinette collapses onto the couch. “Hard no.”

“We could play spin the bottle. Seven minutes in heaven.”

She snorts. “Okay, are we in uni again? I remind you that you have a very serious girlfriend who you love very much. Spin the bottle is very hard to rig.”

She can almost see Nino shrugging. “If some of the kisses don’t match up exactly it’s not the end of the world. It’s not like we’ve never kissed before.”

“True,” Marinette murmurs, checking her nails.

“Same with Alya. So really…to complete the square, we all have to kiss Adrien.”

“Is that what counts as initiation into our friend group?” Marinette asks. “Kissing?”

“Yes.”

She shakes her head. “If you didn’t scare him away before, you’d definitely scare him away now.”

“We were plenty nice!” Nino says. “It’s been two weeks since we exchanged names, you sure we can’t get his number or something? Alya is going to have a cow.”

Marinette huffs. “Don’t tell, Al but… I don’t even have his number.” She makes a face at the long silence.

“Goddamn, Mari. Why not?”

She shrugs. “We live next to each other. I’ve never…needed it? I mean, would it be nice to have? Sure. But I don’t want to push him and he’s never offered so…”

“Do you need me to take on the Alya role because she’s working?”

Marinette sighs. “Is saying no going to stop you?”

“Get his number, girl!”

She clicks her tongue. “So many demands. Last names, universities, phone numbers— do you need his blood type too?”

“I’m sure Alya could find some use for that.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. We’re lucky she didn’t go into like, espionage or something. She’d be scary.”

“Are you saying she isn’t scary now?”

“No,” Marinette admits. “Alya is still very scary now. She’d just be way more terrifying in covert operations.”

“She really would be,” Nino muses.

Marinette smiles to herself. “You love her a lot.”

Nino sighs happily. “Yeah I do. It’s a good thing I’m such a dumbass. Probably wouldn’t have gotten her attention otherwise.”

Marinette raises her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, weren’t Alya and I friends before you two started dating?”

“Yeah, but nothing really gets someone’s attention like chugging a Monster-coffee combo ten minutes before class.”

“Hm, I suppose that’s true. How did you survive lycée again?”

“A good question, my dude. A really good one.”

Marinette looks up as there’s a knock at her door.

“Is that the boyfriend?” Nino asks.

“Shut up,” she mutters. “I’m not sure, but I’ll call you back later, okay?”

“Sure thing, man. Remember all the details for, Al.”

“I always do. Bye.”

“Peace, dude.”

Marinette pulls open the door and Adrien holds out a book. She stares at it — the book, not the hand holding it out to her, definitely not — for a long moment before looking up at him. “Hi?”

“I totally stole this from you the other day,” he apologizes.

Marinette takes the book and flips it over to skim the summary on the back. “Honestly, I didn’t even know I had this book. I’m not sure if I ever read it. Was it good?”

Adrien shrugs. “It was okay. Kind of predictable ending, but it passed the time.”

“Hm. Not sure if I’ll ever read it, but I’ll keep your indepth review in mind.”

He smiles. “Thanks for letting me borrow it, even if you didn’t notice.”

“Of course, what’s mine is yours,” Marinette says before realizing that may be a little too revealing. “I really like your ring by the way.” She gestures to the silver ring on his right hand. She’s noticed him wearing it before, but she’s never really gotten a good look at it before. Plus she needs to change the subject as fast as humanly possible.

“This old thing?” Adrien asks, holding up his hand. “Thanks, it’s an old family heirloom. It’s sentimental, but it’s not really worth anything.”

Marinette shrugs. “Sometimes sentimentality is all that you need.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, examining the ring. He shakes his head. “Anyway, I have to get back to work, but I’ll see you later?”

She nods and tries not to smile too widely. “Yeah, that sounds great. Have fun at your kitchen table.”

“Always do,” he says with a crooked smile as he turns to his door.

Marinette closes the door and cleans against it, clutching her book to her chest.

She’s so gone.

✦ ✦ ✦

Marinette skips dinner.

She’s been working on an idea for a new line all afternoon and her mind feels like jello. It’d probably be a good idea to take a break and let her mind rest, but she’s kind of in the zone, and she doesn’t want to risk losing it.

It takes Alya sending thirty two texts about something that happened at work for Marinette to finally put down the pencil and grab a quick sandwich and a drink while she reads through Alya’s rant.

And then she goes right back to work.

Page after page of failed design and scribbled out notes. She resists the urge to scratch things out and rip pages out of her sketchbook so she can crumple them up and throw them away. She tries to keep everything she designs, even things that she doesn’t like that much. It’s good for learning.

But when she’s low on patience, she scribbles them out anyway.

She almost breaks her pencil crossing out a pantsuit that makes her want to quit her job and return her degree.

“I hate this,” she grumbles to herself, hitting her sketchbook against her forehead.

She stands up with a sigh, doing a quick stretch and pacing around the apartment for a few minutes. Then she turns on her laptop and finds some music to listen to it and plugs in her headphones because it’s too late to blast music aloud.

She starts a dress and gets halfway through the skirt before she realizes she’s already designed this dress.

Back to the drawing board.

✦ ✦ ✦

Marinette drags her hands down her face and glances over at the clock. Half an hour after midnight.

Time to give up.

She packs up her laptop and tablet and puts them into her bag by the door. She thinks about her plan for tomorrow before adding her current sketchbook and some markers to it as well.

She wanders around the apartment for a few minutes, drinking a glass of water and trying to calm her anxiety. A little bit of artblock never killed anyone. She’ll get past this hurdle and be back to designing things she’s proud of in no time.

She’s looking forward to work in the morning. She’s looking forward to having some direction. Any direction.

Marinette flops on her bed and stares at the ceiling for a long time.

Tomorrow will be better. It has to be.

✦ ✦ ✦

Marinette jerks awake as a loud beeping pierces through her dreams. She didn’t know what it was in her dream, she just knew it was annoying, but now her heart is pounding and she feels like she’s about to be sick.

Fire alarm.

For a moment, she wonders if it’s a drill (do they even have those anywhere other than school?) or was pulled on accident, before the alarms in her mind start going off because that doesn’t matter.

She snatches her phone from her charger as she runs out the door, nearly tripping as she slips on a pair of flip flops she always has by the door and grabbing her work bag because her entire life is in that bag and she knows you’re not supposed to take anything in an emergency but it’s right there.

As soon as she throws open the door, she can smell the smoke and she doesn’t know how she didn’t notice it before now. She blames the adrenaline.

People are rushing out of their apartments. Someone’s child is crying and heavy footsteps echo through the stairway.

This is actually happening.

Marinette can’t move.

She gasps as someone grabs her arm and drags her along. She finds herself looking at Adrien with terrified eyes.

“We have to go,” Adrien says, running a hand through his hair. He has his phone in his hand and his long black trench coat on, but he’s barefoot and each time he drags a hand over his hair it gets messier.

She probably shouldn’t be focusing so much on him as they follow the crowd out of the building, but he’s strangely grounding. Him, his face, the pressure of his hand on his arm.

They always say to be calm and quiet if there’s a fire in school, but everyone is running and pushing. People are screaming and crying and yelling out to others.

The smoke gets thinner as they go down, but it’s still starting to burn Marinette’s eyes. A mother next to her covers her child’s mouth with her sleeve.

Marinette gasps as they step out into the humid night air. She feels like she’s about to start crying; there’s a lump in her throat and a pressure in the back of her head.

Adrien freezes next to her. He lets go of her arm and shoves her forward. “Go!”

“A-Adrien?” she asks, twisting around to look at him.

“Just go!” he shouts.

He turns and pushes back inside of the building.

Back into the smoke.

Back into the fire.

“Adrien!” Marinette screams, her voice breaking.

The crowd drags her forward. Someone crashes into her. She can hear sirens down the street above the screaming.

Adrien is gone.

#adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #my fics #proc ml #prince of cats ml #im so stressed my guys #do me a solid adn check this out thanks

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marinette-buginette · 7 years

Text

Serial Killer AU (End 1)

All my thanks to @queenlypirate for suggesting two endings. Either works, so pick your fave. I know which is mine. Also in this one, Marinette took the ‘Chat needed help’ a little bit too literally.

Tikki opened the door to Marinette’s apartment wearily. Putting the key she found in the potted plant next to the door in her pocket, Tikki entered the house. Everything seemed unchanged, save for the thin layer of dust that appeared to settle over everything. Tikki got a grip on her gun and began to move slowly, taking in her surroundings. Nothing seemed out of place, no sign of fighting or resistance. Still, something was out of place. Marinette called about two weeks ago saying she needs a medical leave. Something about exhaustion and other things that might affect her performance at work. Tikki, of course, approved the medical leave. She didn’t want Marinette putting her health in peril or the sake of working. But when she tried to call last week to ask her about her whereabout the line went dead. She assumed Marinette might just have her phone closed. But after continuous calls for a couple of days, Tikki figured something had to be wrong. So she came to visit. It seems like her instincts were right.

Gripping her gun tighter, she approached the door of Marinette’s bedroom before kicking it open with all her might and storming in, gun pointed. It was empty. Tikki’s blue eyes scanned the room. Oddly, Marinette’s sketchbooks were gone. But her phone was still there. Seeing there was no direct threat near, Tikki lowered the gun and went to grab Marinette’s phone. She was really grateful Marinette never bothered to put a password. She unlocked the screen, expecting to see the amount of missed calls. She didn’t expect it to open to a picture of her and Marinette. Tikki narrowed her eyes at the screen. She recognized it. It had been Christmas party from last year. Both women were smiling brightly at the camera, striking a silly pose. Tikki remembered vaguely they might have been a little tipsy. Was this the last thing Marinette had looked on her phone? She obviously didn’t bother to exit her gallery. There was no sign of a fight in the apartment, so if there had been a kidnapping it hadn’t been a violent one. Tikki frowned, trying to put some order on in her thoughts. Something was wrong.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, startling her. Tikki felt a chill run down her spine. She had a bad feeling about this. Checking her screen, Tikki saw the number of the department. Yet, it didn’t ease her nerves.

“Speak.” Tikki ordered, finally answering the call.

“Boss, we have a problem.”

*earlier that night*

Adrien looked at his work with a satisfied smile. The red of the blood was eye-catching, compared to the cream colour of the building. It was truly standing out. Chat nodded appreciatively at his work as she began to wipe his bloody hands on a rag. It was a peaceful night of June, maybe a little too silent for Paris. It was pretty warm, but a chill breeze made sure it wasn’t suffocating. He didn’t know what could make the night more wonderful than killing a gang of fascists.

“Nice work you did there, handsome.”

On second thought, there was something that could certainly make his night much lovelier. Or someone.

“Why, thank you.” his satisfied grin turned tender as he glanced down at her. “It is a dedication for someone very, very special.”

“Oh? They must really be for such a declaration.” they both glanced at the wall of the building again, the red traces of blood forming a perfect message.

Thank you for loving me.

“The most special.” he declared solemnly while glancing at her.

Ladybug giggled. “You are adorable. And you know, that declaration is quite funny.”

“How so?” Chat questioned with a frown.

Ladybug gave him a look that he knew very well. It meant she knew something he didn’t. Taking his hands, she began guiding him away. “Close your eyes. It is a surprise.”

He did as she asked and let her guide him through the small, dark streets of Paris until their movements came to a stop.

“You can open them now.” she whispered in his ear. Chat couldn’t help the smile that appeared once his eyes found the bloody writing.

I will always love you.

“Well, it seems like we were synchronized.” Chat slid his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “I want to make a Disney reference, actually.”

Ladybug could only snort. What a dork. He was her dork, though. And she wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world. Getting on her tip toes, Marinette nuzzled her nose against his. She could almost hear him purr in delight. With a small giggle, she tilted her head, letting her lips slide over his. Chat sighed against her mouth. He will never get tired of her kisses, no matter if they were in their new little home on the outskirts of the city or in a dark alley with their hands covered in blood. She pulled at his shoulders, beginning to deepen the kiss. Chat considered they should call it a night and go home where they could kiss in peace. Too bad, a vibration interrupted them. Chat let out an unhappy growl as Ladybug moved away from him to open the message she received on the communicator.

“Seems like we got a new target.” Chat muttered while looking over her shoulder at the data sent by the leader of the Miraculous, Master Fu.

“Just one this time, not a gang.” Ladybug glanced up at him. “Are you in the mood? Or should we postpone it?”

Chat’s grin gave her enough of an answer.

There was something lurking in the dark. He knew that and tried to ignore it as much as he could, but his instincts were screaming at him to run for his life. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to go out at this hour. Not with the things happening in Paris. The man let out a strangled gasp as a rope circled around his neck, dragging him down and hardening his breath.

“I wouldn’t scream if I were you.” the man looked with big eyes as a woman clad in dark and black approached, the end of the rope in her hand and… was that a yoyo? She didn’t look what one would have imagined the serial killer that put Paris on its toes would look like.

“Wonderful catch, ma choupinette.”

The man eyes snapped towards the voice, his gaze landing on a tall man coming from the other direction. His cat-like eyes pierced through the man who was currently lying on the ground, grabbing at the rope and trying to pull himself free.

“Please,” he begged, his voice strangled. “No, please.”

The woman behind him laughed dryly. “Would you look at that? He learned the meaning of the words now.” the anger was clear in her voice as she tightened the rope a little more.

“Hm, so what shall it be?” the man asked, opening one of the pockets of his belt and revealing some small vials.

“Remind me again, how old was that kid?”

“If the report was correct and they always are, then, ten years old.” he answered nonchalantly.

The woman glared down at the culprit before her expression changed into a sadistic smirk. “Do you happen to have that one poison that makes the intern organs melt?” she asked her partner.

He pulled out one of the vials along with a syringe, smirking back at her. “I love the way you think, my lady.” his eyes shifted towards their target. “Now stay still.”

Ladybug arranged her yoyo back to her belt once they were done. Chat was smiling happily at her, the cat lenses he wore making his eyes glow in the dark of the night. She found it more comforting rather than scary now. Chat extended his hand and Ladybug took it happily, letting him pull her close to him. She sighed contently.

“Let’s go home, my love.”

#miraculous ladybug #ladybug x chat noir #ladynoir #marinette x adrien #adrinette #marinette x chat noir #marichat #tml #my writing

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