The Superboy Hoodie
AO3
For @ withluvsan (lostlovelis) on AO3
Marinette Dupain-Cheng didn’t expect to find love in Gotham of all places. She definitely didn’t expect to feel more at home in Gotham than she ever had in Paris. But here she was. Wrapped in Tim’s arms as they lay on the couch, watching a movie they’d both seen a million times before. The shrill ringing of Tim’s phone makes him sigh, reaching out and picking it up off the coffee table to answer it.
“Hello?” He says. He’s silent for a few moments before he huffs. “B, I already told you….but I….whatever. See you then.” He huffs, tossing his phone back onto the table and holding her a little tighter. Marinette shifts, turning so that she can see her boyfriend’s face.
“What’s up?” She asks softly, reaching up and gently pushing a strand of his hair out of his eyes. He pouts.
“B needs me at the manor. Some kind of problem that apparently, he couldn’t fix with just Dick.” Tim says. Marinette furrows her eyebrows.
“Is everyone okay?” She asks. He nods.
“Yeah. Hopefully it won’t take too long and I’ll be back early tomorrow.” Tim says. Marinette just smiles at him, knowing that he really did want to stay with her, but also knowing that family came first. She couldn’t blame him. If her family or her team back in Paris needed her, she’d be there in a second. No matter what. She leans forward, kissing him softly before pulling back.
“I love you.” She says. Tim grins, kissing her again before pulling back and sitting up.
“Love you too, M.” He says. She watches as he jumps around, trying to put his converse on while standing on one foot. Marinette snorts as he almost falls, cursing lowly under his breath.
“You good?” She calls. He huffs, but gives her a thumbs up, grabbing his keys before rushing out the door. Marinette hums, trying to decide what she should do with her afternoon now that she was alone.
“Hey Pigtails. Thought bird boy would never leave.” Plagg complains, flying into the room and flopping down onto the couch. Marinette raises an eyebrow at the kwami.
“Why do you insist on calling him bird boy?” She asks. He’d been doing it since Marinette first met Tim a little more than six months ago and she had no clue why he did it. Granted, she also didn’t understand why he still called her Pigtails. She’d stopped wearing Pigtails (as both Ladybug and Marinette) years ago. The kwami definitely loved his nicknames. Plagg just laughs.
“You’ll find out one day, Pigtails. And I can’t wait for the chaos that’ll happen because of it.” He sighs, smiling deviously before zipping off to get cheese from her fridge. Marinette shakes her head, starting to stand up when a new design suddenly pops into her head. Quickly picking up her sketchbook, she sketches out the Superboy themed hoodie with a small smile on her face. It would be perfect for Tim. He didn’t talk about heroes and villains a lot, (which was a relief after everything that had happened in Paris), but he did talk about Superboy a lot. She assumed that the hero had saved him on one of his trips to Metropolis and that Tim was now a fan. She finishes the sketch, deciding that was how she’d spend her afternoon. She’d need to go get some fabric and more thread, but then she’d be able to spend the rest of the day making the hoodie for Tim. It’d be a nice surprise, one that he definitely wouldn’t be expecting since they’d already exchanged gifts for their six month anniversary two weeks ago.
“Hey Plagg, wanna come with me to the store?” Marinette calls out, slipping on a pair of shoes and grabbing her purse.
“Can we get more cheese while we’re out?” He asks. Marinette sighs, but nods. Plagg smirks and flies straight into her purse, curling up next to the fabric swatches she had for some reason. Hopefully, he wouldn’t make her regret letting him come with.
---
Honestly, Marinette felt like she should have expected it. After all, she’d been living in Gotham for over six months with no incident (well, none that she was directly involved in). It was only a matter of time before a Rogue decided to strike somewhere that directly impacted her. She was just a bit frustrated that it was cutting into her design time. Especially since she already had the bags of fabric and thread.
“So many possible participants! Hmm, how to pick our next volunteer.” Scarecrow taunts, scanning the small group of people. Marinette looks around at the people surrounding her. There were two boys, probably no older than thirteen; one was glaring at Scarecrow, while the other had a tight grip on his arm. Almost as if he was holding him back. They were right next to a man, probably middle aged, who looked tense. Like he wanted to help, but couldn’t. There was also an older woman, clutching onto bags of groceries, and a woman with two little girls clinging to her. Pursing her lips, Marinette makes a decision (one that she’s sure she’ll regret).
“Typically, volunteers choose to participate. Someone doesn’t choose for them.” She points out, knowing that it was stupid of her to speak up against the man. But she had to. Or, maybe she didn’t have to, but once a hero, always a hero. Even if it meant doing something completely stupid and reckless. Scarecrow laughs, the sound grating on her nerves.
“Speaking up is almost the same as volunteering, girly. Let’s see what really scares you.” He says, a dangerous tinge to his voice. Marinette narrows her eyes at him, refusing to let him see her cry or upset. She’d lived her worst nightmare multiple times. She’d seen her biggest fears come to life and try to kill her more times than she could count. There was no way she was going to let some stupid little serum make her panic. Before she can give a snarky remark, Scarecrow injects her, and the world around her changes. Marinette grits her teeth, trying desperately to not panic. Hawkmoth glances down at her, a wicked smirk on his face.
“Look at the little Bug. All alone with no one to help her. Tell me, do you think Chat Noir screamed when he died?” Hawkmoth taunts. “Will you scream when I kill you?”
“Go to hell.” She hisses out, still clenching tightly to…whatever it was she was trying to hold. Glancing down, she yelps when she realizes she’s holding Chat Noir’s hand. The one attached to his corpse. She lets go and jumps up, trying to get away from his body. It was wrong. That was wrong. The Cure had saved him. Why was he dead again?
“Look at you, dancing around, obviously scared. Not so tough now, are you?” Hawkmoth taunts, his laugh grating on her ears. Marinette whips around, glaring at the man. He starts to move towards her and she moves on instinct. She throws out one hit, then another, swiping her feet underneath his legs when he tries to lunge at her. She reaches for her yoyo to tie him up, panic settling in when she realizes- she doesn’t have it. How does she not have it? She’s Ladybug. Breathing starts to get harder, and Hawkmoth stands, a murderous look on his face. Throwing caution to the wind, she gives him a quick kick below the belt, bringing his head down to connect with her knee. He collapses to the ground, and she backs up, falling to her butt as the panic catches up. She gasps, trying and failing to catch her breath. Black spots dance across her vision, and she thinks she hears Tim just before her world goes dark.
---
Marinette gasps, sitting straight up. She glances around, noting that she was seated in the back of an ambulance, her bag of fabric sitting next to her. She sighs in relief. She’d still be able to make Tim’s hoodie. She yelps as a masked face appears, holding their hands up.
“Sorry, sorry. I was coming to check if you were awake.” The figure- who she recognized as Red Robin- says with a concerned frown. Marinette smiles softly.
“I’m awake. And fine, since I have my fabric.” She jokes. Red Robin’s frown just deepens, glancing over at the bag. “Do I have to stay long?” She asks.
“What?” He asks.
“Here. Do I need to stay long, or can I leave soon? My boyfriend had some kind of emergency so I was going to spend the rest of the day making something special for him but I had to go get fabric and then Scarecrow decided to attack and- well, here we are. I think if I leave soon, I should still have enough time to finish it.” Marinette rambles, waving her arms around.
“Hold on, you were just attacked by a Rogue. And you’re concerned about finishing a gift for your boyfriend?” He asks incredulously. Marinette blushes.
“Well, yeah. The design kinda popped into my head and he won’t be expecting it and sometimes I like to just do things for him. Or make him things. Let him know how much I love and appreciate him, ya know?” She says. Red Robin sighs.
“If you give me a statement, I could probably sneak you outta here before they force you to talk to a bunch of people.” He says. Marinette grins widely.
“Really? That’d be amazing.” She says. She quickly gives him her statement, not that she knew anything more than what had been visible on the security cameras. He closes the tiny notebook he used for her statement before smiling. She’s immediately hit with a sense of déjà vu. Why was his smile so familiar? Shaking away the thoughts, she jumps out of the ambulance, wavering slightly as she regains her balance.
“Thank you, for all of this.” She says. He nods.
“Not a problem, ma’am. Could I- Would it be okay if I escorted you home?” He asks, shifting his weight awkwardly.
“Sure! I mean, you are kinda helping me break out of here.” She teases with a grin. The short walk back to her apartment is practically silent. And very awkward. But still…a design pops into her head. A design for herself to pay homage to her new favorite hero.
---
Marinette is just finishing the stitches on the second hoodie (she worked fast when she was excited, caffeinated, and inspired) when she hears the front door being pushed open.
“M! I’m home!” Tim calls. Marinette grins, tossing a throw blanket on top of the hoodies and rushing to the front door. Tim smiles, and everything feels right with the world. Throwing her arms around his neck, she pulls him down as she stands on her toes, pulling him into a kiss. His hands immediately snake into her hair, playing with the loose strands. She pulls away first, grinning at her boyfriend.
“Everything work out okay with Bruce?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow. Tim nods.
“Yeah, hopefully it’s resolved for a while.” He says with a sigh. She grins, pecking him again quickly before grabbing his hand and tugging him over to the couch. “What’re we doing?” He asks with a laugh.
“Well since you were busy with family stuff today, I thought I’d be busy with designing stuff.” She says, plopping down onto the couch. He frowns.
“I thought you ran out of thread.” He says. She shrugs.
“I went to get more. Now-” She starts to take the throw off of the hoodies, but Tim cuts her off.
“When?” He asks. She frowns.
“Why does it matter, Tim?” She asks, shaking her head.
“Because there was a Rogue attack near your favorite fabric store at like, 2 o’clock. I didn’t even call because I assumed you were home and safe. But if you weren’t-” Tim begins to ramble. Marinette grips his hand tightly, squeezing it as she gives him a reassuring smile.
“I was there, but nothing big happened.” Marinette says, trying to make it sound more calm than it had been. He stares at her, and she swears he sees right through her. She sighs. “Okay, I may have been given a slight dose of fear toxin-”
“Are you okay? Do you have any residual side effects? Why didn’t you call me?” Tim rushes out. Marinette huffs, pouting.
“Because I was fine, mon coeur. No side effects, nothing. I may end up with nightmares again,” She says, thinking about how bad they’d been right after Hawkmoth’s defeat, “but it’s nothing that I can’t handle. Especially with you by my side.” He relaxes, his shoulders slumping slightly.
“I just hate that I couldn’t be there for you. Let you know you weren’t alone.” He says, a distraught look on his face. Marinette gently grabs his chin, turning him to look at her and gives him a smile.
“Tim, you can’t always be right there for me. There’s some things I have to go through without you being right there but that’s okay. That’s just a part of life.” She says. He nods, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around her. Marinette returns the hug, relishing in the warmth of being held by the love of her life. After a few minutes, he pulls back, eyes a little shiny, but otherwise okay.
“So you mentioned designing something?” He says. She grins, nodding rapidly.
“Yes, so, I know how much you like Superboy-” She starts, but he cuts her off.
“What?” He asks, looking shocked.
“Yeah. He’s kind of the only hero you ever mention. I kind of just guessed that he saved you on one of your trips to Metropolis.” She says, raising an eyebrow at his weird behavior. All of the tension in his shoulders dissipates immediately.
“Oh, right.” Tim says.
“Anyway,” She continued, making a note to talk to him about it later. “I decided to make you this!” She says, moving the throw and picking up the hoodie. Tim grins, excitement clear in his eyes.
“This is awesome!” He cheers, jumping up and tugging it on over his t-shirt. Marinette grins, standing to walk around and check the fit of the hoodie. But Tim doesn’t let her get out of his sight before he’s picked her up in a big hug, spinning her around. She throws her head back and laughs at her boyfriend’s silliness. Her laughter only grows when he stumbles and they both collapse onto the ground.
“You’re such a dork.” She snorts, looking down at him. He grins, reaching up and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“But I’m your dork.” He says. His eyes move behind her and furrow at the lump still on the table. “What’s that?” He asks. Marinette grins, jumping up and grabbing the hoodie she’d made herself, slipping it on over her clothes.
“This is my hoodie for my favorite hero.” She says, glancing down at the Red Robin logo on her chest. Tim makes a strangled sound and she looks up, worried, eyebrows furrowed at the blush on his face. “Are you okay?” She asks. He clears his throat, nodding.
“I’m uh, perfect. Why- why Red Robin?” He asks. She grins.
“Because he’s a hero. He’s actually the one who took my statement after the whole fiasco this afternoon.” Marinette says. Tim nods, looking contemplative, until he finally grins.
“We’re Superboy and Red Robin.” He laughs. Marinette grins, wrapping her arms around his neck as he snakes his around her waist.
“It seems we are.” She says, smiling happily. Remembering her déjà vu from earlier, Marinette quickly shoves it back out of her head. That was a problem for later Marinette. Right now, she was happy to just be held by the man she loves.
Permanent tag list: @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess @crazylittlemunchkin
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Where Can It Be (this land of Eldorado)
Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Jason Todd, Adrien Agreste, Roy Harper, Koriand'r, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, an asshole of an OC
Warnings: Teen (13+)
Categories: Fluff, Comedy, Action
Words: 7,992 words
Read on: AO3
For Ash of the Holy Miraculous, Batman! gift exchange. Check it out on Ao3 for the actual timeline of the events!
Update 12/25/21: read the Ao3 version, that one is proofread and updated!
Ladybug is having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
First she had a project due in her Textile Technology class that she was so sure was in her bag til it wasn’t and her favorite teacher (bless her) gave her a disappointed look. Although Ms. Arendt gave her a day’s extension (again, bless her), she wasn’t sure which kwamis were to blame for the missing shirt she painstakingly didn’t sleep for to finish.
If Mr. Guez from her History of Design caught her napping, he was at least nice enough to not call her and her slight drool out on it. Oh well.
Next came the 9pm patrol. Although she was pretty sure Chat Noir was her age (mon dieu! They’ve been doing this for years!) and Adrien knew she was tired– she was in college for pete’s sake– but Chat still played a one sided game of tag on the rooftops and kept trying to tackle her midair.
On the flip side, at least she got to show off some of her new aerial maneuvers. She has to remember to check out the Twitter hashtags later in case anyone caught them. For feedback purposes at least. Totally not to boost her self confidence– no.
Then came the visitors. Despite her adamant-turning-progressively-hostile communications with the Justice league to politely shove off of the city’s limits, it wasn’t uncommon to find a well meaning (see: pigheaded) hero or an angry (see: idiotic) villain crossing Ladybug & Chat Noir territory. It usually takes them a hit or a hint (either permutations doesn’t matter) before they get the message and they can squirrel back to patrol with Hawkmoth none the wiser. If these were heroes (again, pigheaded), she could probably just threaten them with the Batman who was kind enough to give her a signal button for help.
Not the help he probably was thinking of, but isn’t the Justice League just a glorified babysitting gig anyway– if, you know, babysitters could punch a hole in the universe and what they babysat is basically the world. Batman could probably take these three away anyway. Whatever.
But it doesn’t end there, oh mon dieu, it doesn’t!
Ladybug had a 2 step idea on how she plans on kicking their potential-hero-visitors out of the city that involved first and foremost Kaalki’s help, and secondly the sole of her boot. But then one of the guys decides that he’s not as sensible as his costume and shoots her in the gut with an actual gun.
Ow.
Which is a bummer because now she thinks she has to like him the least, even if the bow guy’s sunglasses-cap uniform hurt her collegiate-designer eyes.
Of course, at least now they know they’re not heroes then and they can take the sole of her boot with less smile and more force.
Chat Noir doesn’t flinch when Ladybug gets hit (there was only so much muggings you can stop without a pulled trigger. Or two. Okay so there’s a very valid reason he doesn’t go mother hen anymore to be honest.). He easily steps in front of her and pounces on the dude but is tackled out of the air– damn karma works fast– by the only girl who apparently flies.
“No you don’t!”
“Holy shit Spots’ meta! Arsenal cover me!”
Sure, the bullet bounces off of her uniform but it still takes Ladybug’s breath away because indestructible doesn’t mean invincible and the girl in the costume is still just a girl. So still, ow!
Now her two-step plan apparently had sub-points, probably making it a ten-step plan that went from awkward-thanks-for-dropping-by-see-you-never to clean-up-this-mess-before-old-grumpy-Hawkmoth-wakes-up. Ladybug thinks it can start with her fist.
Unfortunately, this was not the case because apparently, the universe hates her.
Because Hawkmoth seemed to think that, yes, he does want to be extra villainous that night, thank you for asking Ladybug. And one of the men, sensible costume guy with the red helmet with unsensible manners, suddenly transforms into a four-armed monster that can, and apparently will, throw everything in sight to get Hawkmoth’s jewelry-driven-revenge-plot.
A ‘Lucky Charm!’ gave her a tire iron (“What am I supposed to do with this? Steal the tires of his car?” “LB look out!”) and for the first time in a long time, no plan comes into her head because she’s not only fighting an akuma, but she’s also simultaneously fighting his friends.
And Hawkmoth, that damn jealous loser having no friends other than Mayura (what is up with those two anyways), must be watching because the akuma’s friends are also simultaneously fighting him.
“Hoo– Jay! What is up with you man?”
“Red Hood, we are not your enemies!”
“AAAAAARGH!”
And so, Ladybug, with all her running-on-two-hours of sleep brilliance decides after several cars and one cap-bow-dude thrown at her (“Hey!” “I think we need to regroup with the magical people.”), and not one blow given from team Ladybug and Chat Noir, thought that, hey, you know what would make this fight easier? Maybe we should take the fight elsewhere. Without people to hurt. Probably with fields so all Hoodwink can throw are grass and wheat. Like maybe Germany, there’s grass in Germany right?
Whatever. Massive sleep debt Ladybug doesn’t care anymore. She’ll gladly kick grass-throwing akuma vs car-throwing akumas anyday.
So she calls ‘Voyage!’ and Chat Noir (karma now restored), helps push Hoodwink into the portal with a car clutched in its grubby hands like a baby. Ladybug gives him a salute and jumps into it just as the connection closes.
As a precaution, she yells ‘Divide!’ to keep the same grubby hands off of Kaalkhi– just in case.
“Okay Hoodwink! Let’s dance!”
“AAAAAARGH?”
Turns out, Ladybug is, afterall, brilliant and fighting grass-throwing akuma is way easier than fighting car-throwing akuma. It takes the monster a couple of tries jumping everywhere looking for things to throw at her except they were literally in the middle of nowhere but miles upon miles of wheat and pavement. In the end Hoodwink tired himself out throwing wheat in her face (which tickles) and her swinging the tire iron like a baseball bat (which does not tickle). If her swings were a little too hard, well, she did almost get crushed by an Audi. He can sue her lawyers later.
Thank God for Germany.
Ladybug manages to smack him in the face– which is totally an accident by the way Hoodwink’s lawyers– and from the crack of his sensible helmet comes a black butterfly that just fills her with elated glee– again lawyers, it’s the butterfly that made her smile, she’s not vengeful no siree. One caught butterfly and one confused asshole later, Ladybug is giddy with relief and excitement and just pure exhaustion that she just calls for ‘Miraculous Ladybug!’ and then Marinette dreams about a nice hot cup of tea, and a nice hot 15 minute shower shower, and her nice hot 12-hour-pass-out on bed.
“What the fuck?!”
And then she remembers she’s still Ladybug.
In Germany. With a not-anymore-potential-hero staring confusedly at his not-anymore-shattered helmet. No Voyage! in her arsenal. She was pretty sure the three-minute mark of her earrings also just beeped.
Mon dieu.
Adrien was gonna kill her.
–
Silver Ladybugs shower around them like glittery rain, returning hay where ashes were on the floor a while ago, stitching up the wood planks up and returning them to the walls. Fire snuffed out and the metal– bullets, really– that littered the floor suddenly found themselves gone. Evidence of when it all went south since her Lucky Charm! all but disappeared. If she was paying attention, she would have been in awe at the level of detail that went to fixing the barn back up as if there was no bomb, no gunfight, and no Von Derm at all.
Instead, Ladybug was watching Hood’s torso stitch itself up together like how it did with his helmet the first time. She’s breathing relieved-finally-safe breaths as she watches the magic work, sits on her heels, watching as Red Hood’s own breaths grow stronger. Her hand which stopped the blood flow was flying to the pulse on his wrist and finding a steady heartbeat beneath her fingers.
And there was movement stirring from Red Hood’s body.
“Holy fuck.” Hood groans, rolling over his side so he could prop himself up in a sitting position. “What the fuck was that?”
“Magic.” She says in a flurry and a smile. “It worked– mon dieu it worked. Are you okay?”
“God that feels amazing– what I’d do for one of those the next time Arsenal goes on a fucking bender at the bar.” Ladybug gapes at him. “What? Something on my nose?”
“Hood! I– What?! I just saved your ass, and you’re thinking about bottling it up as a hangover cure!
“Why not? That shit’s amazing.”
“Nice to see your humor is still intact.”
“I got stabbed and almost blown up, not my fucking personality, cupcake.” Hood snorts. “But Christ, am I going to try to never get blown up ever again.”
“Do it often?”
“Got blown up once and every other bomb is just the same shit. Hurts like a motherfucker tho.”
She smiles. “Yeah, don’t do that.” Ladybug sighs with relief as she sits next to him. “You asshole, I really thought you were a goner.”
Hood scoffs. “You think the bomb did me in? I was pretty sure I was half dead from all his ramblings about money, power and shit.”
“Right.” Ladybug stifles a giggle. They got kidnapped, beaten up a little, and not to mention almost dying. But she’s sitting here post-processing and critiquing the mobster’s monologue with the freaking Red Hood.
Of course she’d earned a little post-traumatic event giggle Universe. Not thanks to you. “That was like, the worst monologue ever and I handle an average of three new villains a week. Solid 4/10.”
“Pffft, I fight three villains and three heroes a week. If you think villains have bad monologues, you try hearing ‘Truth and Justice’ for a couple of variations and you’ve heard it all. Von Derm? Needs better intonation and he has to be more succinct but plus points on going through actually stabbing me, I guess.”
Ladybug rolls her eyes at him. “You really good though?”
“I’m fine, cupcake. It happens more often than I’d like to admit.” Hood waves a hand dismissively. “I eat shit like this for breakfast.”
“You eat shit for breakfast?”
“I’m American.”
Red Hood grins as he raises an eyebrow at her mock look of disgust.
“Fuck cupcake, you had healing powers this entire time?”
“Yeah I didn’t really have time to tell you that, you know, between hitmen and you trying to kill me the first time.”
“Point. But hey at least I didn’t actually kill you.”
“Not for the lack of trying, but yeah, you do have that going for you.” Ladybug grins as he laughs some more, soft and relieved. “Better than the other guy I guess.”
It was weird how she wasn’t surprised anymore that his laugh makes her smile. Weird, but nice. She likes it.
“So… you think your teleport magic is done recharging?”
She shakes her head and closes her eyes as she brings it to the wall with a soft THUD! “No, I don’t think so.”
–
Adrien’s gonna kill her and it’s if she doesn’t get killed first.
The man snarls as he picks her up by the front of her costume and slams her into the now good-as-new Volkswagen by the side of the road.
“What the fuck?!” He says, hair falling into his sweaty face. “What happened to me? Where’s my team?!”
At this point Ladybug thinks she’s screwed. Even without being an akuma, the guy absolutely towers over her. Nevermind counter suing, she might have to call the mortician next by the way her toes aren’t even reaching the ground. It took all her finger strength to latch on to his hands and not get herself strangled– which honestly? Would suck.
“You were an akuma, asshole! I fixed you!”
“Fixed me? What the hell happened to me?!”
“Akumatized.” She grunts, keeping eye contact. Exhaustion and adrenaline is battling for dominance in her head and surprisingly, she’s cool about that.
“What the fuck is that?”
“There’s a reason we kick all of you JLA and rouges or whatever out of Paris!”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
And, because the universe extra hates her, her earrings beep. Ladybug– actually Marinette now– can see just when her magic drops and the hand clutching her stretchable uniform is now clutching her very-unstretchable blazer.
Which is unfair because she can’t Miraculous Ladybug! her laundry.
Marinette catches the minute look of surprise on his face as he takes in her very vulnerable form and tiny frame. And as a cherry on top, the adrenaline she felt just a second ago? Total loser.
She’s exhausted.
But Marinette needs to prioritize because this was a villain and he might be after the miraculous since they did go to Paris despite announcing everywhere that they should not. She needs a plan to get Tikki off and away without him noticing and still somehow bring it back to Adrien. Maybe she could bury it (no, wait, the ladybug kwami can’t be lost). Maybe she can send a beacon to Batman now for help (it’ll probably be too late for that though). Maybe she could call another transformation (as if). Hey, a part of her even thinks maybe she could swallow it and Chat can retrieve it during the autopsy.
And wasn’t that a dark thought.
Mon dieu.
And even if this dude somehow wasn’t after the miraculous, or he didn’t read the Villain Bulletin Board or Newsletter (does that even exist? She should really ask the Batman) and the guy just wanted to kill her– it would be painfully easy to kill her both being exhausted and being Marinette.
Her fingers tremble at her grip. The man furrows his brows. Marinette’s last ditch effort was to spit in his face.
Props to no-helmet-helmet-guy, he merely growls with eyes flashing dangerously green. “Don’t spit on someone unless you’re prepared to die, cupcake.”
“Gladly.” She says, as if her fingers aren’t shaking with the effort to keep her balance– it was too late for her blazer now. It wasn’t like it’s designer lined or anything (it totally was).
She would probably not survive anyhow.
Fortunately for her, he lets go of his grip and Marinette takes a lungful of air on her hands and knees.
–
“Bug– Bug– hey listen to me. You can’t do ‘nything ‘nymore.” Hood says, struggling to stop his head from tilting to the side. He wasn’t even trying to keep pressure on the wound. “You haf’ta– you haf’ta go.”
“Don’t you dare Hood!”
“No–! no–”
“Hood! Stay awake!”
“List’n!” He slurs, he tries to lift his hand up, but it merely makes his fingers twitch. Ladybug catches the movement and shifts so one hand is caught in his faltering grasp. “Th’– th’re ‘s a track’r ‘n my left’ pock’t– it’s– it’s a s’gnal. T’ th’– t’ th’ bats–”
“I don’t care about your bats!”
“–B’g–shortstack– list’n. Th’ bats, they will c’me for th’ track’r– fast’r than ‘rsenal or St’rfire can ge’ ya– they will n’t let tha’ pig ge’ you.”
“I don’t care!”
“I do.” Jason tells her, eyes already closing shut. She grabs his fingers harder. “Don’– don’ waste it. Run, t’ll them ‘bout Von Derm. ‘nd tell them– tell them I’m sorry.”
“HOOD!”
Ladybug desperately tries to staunch the flow of blood but it’s a futile endeavor as it’s pooling on the floor and around her knees. Red Hood’s eyes were closed, his tanned skin looking pale in the dim light of the fire. She doesn’t know where her costume ended and his blood started.
They were so close to Paris already. Something from the back of her mind told her that she could just leave now and wash her hands off of his evil blood. She doesn’t have to worry about him knowing what she looked like and wouldn’t track her down or her parents or her friends–
But no, that wasn’t Hood, he wasn’t evil. He didn’t hurt civilians and he didn’t seem to be anything except a loud mouth–
But is he really? Isn’t that how they got here because he’s a villain? A car ride and a hundred miles between the two of them shouldn’t convince her if someone was trustworthy. It took Chat years to know who she was and even then her heart jumped so freaking loud–
But this wasn't Chat and Hood was dying!–
But her identity–
In a quieter tone, a voice whispers in her head that maybe she was worrying for nothing.
Like, yeah, maybe it was his guilt (she would’ve found it funny if not their current predicament) that made him come back for her during their kidnapping by Von Derm, but he did come back for her and didn’t sell her out despite knowing he was targeted for death. And maybe he didn’t mean to save her from that car chase since she it was her fault to be in a car with a lunatic like him, but it doesn’t mean he still didn’t decide to pull her out of the way of the line of fire when he could have just washed his hands off of her for good. And maybe he was threatening the entire car ride to leave her out of buttheck nowhere, but he didn’t and continued to drive despite the fact that she was bantering at best and antagonizing at worst. And maybe yeah, he didn’t plan on taking her with him as they made their way back to Paris, but isn’t it also nice of him to actually bring her along, you know, despite his lawyers probably having a huge stack of evidence against her for him to not to. He didn’t have to, but he did.
Maybe she was wrong about him after all… and it was time she proved him wrong too.
“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”
–
“Of course she’s just a kid. Who isn’t a child soldier nowadays?” Put-on-helmet-helmet-guy mutters to himself, making his ramblings sound as mad as it’s modulated. “Apparently, a bitchy old batty white dude who thinks he’s in charge of them, that’s who.”
Marinette is just glad he hasn’t made a move against her as she watches him tinker with the side of the car from her perch on the other side of the road. Which is as far as she thinks she can get without leaving him. They were in the middle of nowhere-Germany and she’s still panicking over releasing her transformation in front of him. He can see her face.
But hey at least he hasn’t made a move on Tikki or her earrings, so she knows at least those were problems she doesn't have to face now.
“And what a good time for my com to be broken. Good job Hood, Roy’s gonna be so fucking annoying with his ‘I told you so’s for the next century.”
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” He hisses. THUNK! THUNK! The man’s fingers continue to run under the car door’s handles, tugging it every now and then.
“It looks like you’re monologuing while trying to break into the car.”
“I’m not monologuing.” He growls. “I am breaking into the car. And hotwiring it.”
“Monsieur Helmet.”
“Did you just call me sir helmet?”
“What? You obviously have a helmet.”
“My name is Red Hood, cupcake.”
“Red Hood.”
“What?”
“You are not hotwiring a car.”
“I am.” Red Hood pulls out his gun and looks at her. Marinette doesn’t freeze. She’s bulletproof. So she glares at him.
“You aren’t.”
“And why not?”
“Because!” She crosses her arms and glares harder. “Because it’s wrong! Someone else owns that, they paid for that, cared for that and use that! I know the owner is in Paris since we teleported here, but it’s unjustified to use property that’s not ours!”
Red Hood sighes. Rubs the back of his hand– the one holding his gun in case anyone cares– on his chin. It must be a self comforting gesture. With his helmet on, he just looked dumb. “Look, I have no fucking clue how we got here or whatever you’re talking about teleporting and whatever crazy magic shit you Paris heroes have going, but honestly if you had an option to teleport after you did your magic girl transformation, we would’ve already been back in France.
“Now, I want to go back to Paris. Do you want to go back to Paris?”
Marinette narrows her eyes. As if she’s gonna fall for that. “And why should I trust you?”
“Honestly? You shouldn’t. But I’m a man of my word and I promise I won’t hurt you. I don’t hurt civilians.”
“Right.”
“Really!” Hood says, palms up. “Look, if you want, I would give you one of my guns in case you feel threatened, which is a big move for me already since I just fucking cleaned them this morning. Now, Paris? Yes? No?”
Marinette honestly does. She doesn’t know how long Tikki can recharge back to full power. Doesn’t know when she can be Ladybug and summon Kaalkhi for a Voyage! Doesn’t know when she can get back for her tea, her shower, her bed.
“You do know how to shoot a gun right?”
Doesn’t want to think about it because, and let her be explicit to herself, she’s exhausted.
“Fine, I’ll take your word for it. But guns in the trunk and keep your hands to yourself.”
“Easy peasy, cupcake.”
Red Hood holds his pistol by the chamber and slams it down on the windshield.
“HOOD!”
–
Hood detaches the remains of his helmet and presses a button on its inside.
“Get ready to run, Bug!”
So she kicks the goon she’s fighting (he’s losing anyways, like Ladybug said, she’s no Disney Princess).
The clearing they were in blew up but Hood manages enough of his strength to tackle her and brace Ladybug under him. Which is stupid– NOW she’s invincible.
The thought makes her annoyed, until she feels liquid dripping down her front.
Mon dieu.
–
That’s how Marinette finds herself in the front seat of a stolen Volkswagen driving down highway A4 at 90mph. She would’ve chosen the back seat (as one does when one is a sudden-break away from decapitation via seatbelt from how low her head hung), but apparently the Red Hood has trust issues (and isn’t that funny considering she’s the hero in this dynamic) as big as his anger issues because he was pretty adamant to perpetually keep her on his peripherals.
At least they have an internet connection even if they’re doing a Courage the Cowardly Dog and are literally in the middle of nowhere. Thank God her phone was on her person. She calls Adrien but it kept going into voicemail, so he probably was still running around Chat Noir and putting out metaphorical fires since Hawkmoth can’t send an akuma back to back.
Well at least she hopes they’re metaphorical.
She calls him 12 more times just to be sure.
On the bright side, they at least know they’re somewhere around Stuttgart, Germany. And hey, at least they’re 6 hours away from Paris. And would you look at that, she’s still alive.
Yup, that’s the low bar for the brightest side of her so far terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
At least the radio connects to Spotify. She hopes Hood likes Penelope Scott as she leans her head on the door and loses the battle with sleep.
–
“Let her go!”
“Tut-tut Hood, this isn’t really a negotiating position. I know it. You know it. In fact, you’re in no position at all except to die.”
“I bounced back from a fucking autopsy, you can’t stop me.” Hood’s growl gets cut off as the man– Von Derm– slams him again against the barn walls.
“Well, how about your little friend over here?”
Hood’s eyes meet hers. She wants to scream and yell that she’s fine, that she’s freaking Ladybug, that she’s had worse, but the goon’s foot presses on her chest more and more making it harder to breathe as she struggles with the meta-enforced bonds keeping her hands tied behind her back. It’s not as painful as it would’ve been if she forgot to transform earlier. If anything it’s freaking uncomfortable.
“Such a pretty little thing too. I bet she’ll sell really well for certain meta traders.”
The remains of Hood’s helmet doesn’t hide the snarl on his face as he stops his struggles.
“Don’t you fucking dare you fucking pig. Don’t you fucking touch her.”
Von Derm tutted softly.
“Now, now Hood, you’re in no position to bargain, do you. You brought her into this, you know. We wouldn’t be in this position if you didn’t fucking dipped your grubby hands into my business. My fucking business!” He snarls, spit flying. “I had ambition no other jelly-spined so called crime lords had. A fucking dream. Money. Power. It was all in my hands and more if you didn’t mess it up and threw me into fucking prison. You know how long I’ve been there? Five fucking years. And you know what? That’s five fucking years of me plotting my revenge on you.
“You’re a fucking dead man walking.” Von Derm snarls, before he straightens back up as if he didn’t ramble like a madman (see: like a proper Disney villain). “Anywho, after I kill you, maybe send a picture to your precious fucking Bats, I would take your little friend here myself, make her scream and shout, I’m sure that pretty little mouth’s got some spunk by virtue of being friends with you–”
Red Hood spits in his face.
And Ladybug– Ladybug stops squirming for breath because it’s not as important as Red Hood spitting in the face of the man who has his knife on his throat. Oh no.
“What a pity.”
“LUCKY CHARM!” Ladybug screams with her last lungful of air at the same time Von Derm pulls his hand back and shoves the knife into Hood’s torso, pulls it out, and plunges it again.
The bright light stuns her captor enough for her to shove him off and roll over, and grasp the helmet that falls into her hands.
She knew she was no Disney princess and it was time to prove it.
As always, her 10-step plan primarily involved her fist.
–
“That shit’s awful!”
Marinette feels herself getting thrown forward in the momentum as they come to a sudden stop. “I’m up Maman– Wha’ ‘appen’?” She blinks. “Are we there yet?”
“No. Your music’s just awful.” Ah. Right. Red Hood and Germany. Chat Noir and missed calls. Seatbelts and decapitation.
She groans, annoyed, as adrenaline courses through her veins only to find Hood tinkering with the stereo and cutting off the song Rät. Which was a pity because that was one of Penelope Scott’s best songs in Marinette’s humble opinion. Hood is just unrefined tastes.
“‘s called chiptune you heathen.”
“Cupcake, the lyrics are atrocious, the beat is repetitive. Fucking too edgy.”
“Your face is too edgy.” More awake. “I have a name too y’know– and it’s Ladybug, not cupcake.”
“Sure, cupcake.”
“Has anyone told you you’re incorrigible?” Grumbling. Insulted.
A bitter laugh. “And you remind me of my kid brother. Believe me, that was not a compliment.”
“Well you remind me of an annoying bee.”
–
“Where the fuck is Red Hood? Who the fuck is this?”
“They were together– I don’t know where Red Hood went, boss!”
“How?”
“He wasn’t there in the crash anymore–”
Two gunshots ring.
Ladybug comes to with a nasty headache and being unable to open her left eye. Head wound she slurry thinks. Tries to wipe her face to remove the icky thing covering her eye. Finds that she can’t break free of her bonds behind her back despite her extra Kwami-induced strength.
She was Ladybug now, right?
She finds the itchy feeling of not-quite-spandex (she remembers checking, it’s really not). Red from shoes to chest when she looks down.
Okay, definitely Ladybug.
She sees the outline of a wooden building from her prone position– a barn probably? Notes the dryness in her mouth that tastiest like capitalist cookies.
She likes barns. She likes barns, and wheat, and grass. And oreos. She likes those.
Ladybug giggles. The fat-stout-angry man turns to her, face half covered by the dimming twilight.
“Send out the scouts and get me Red Hood. NOW!”
Feet scrambles off and Ladybug thinks she shouldn’t be laughing somehow, but still does just by the sheer weirdness of everything happening around her.
Another shot– and ow. Guess she wasn’t as bulletproof as she thought.
–
Hood drives like a maniac and she swears he’s doing it on purpose.
Good thing she can sing louder than the creak of the engine.
–
The red car pops back on their backs by La Vueve’s exit and Lana del Rey’s Born to Die.
A passenger window pops open and Marinette leans out of her seat, finally, getting a chance to see who the hell is following them.
“Get down!”
Hood pulls her down by the scruff of her neck. Just in time as bullets rain on them in hails.
Mon dieu!
Hood is cursing the same way and not-so-under his breath as he struggles to watch the road, swerve so they don’t get a direct hit and keep a squirming Marinette from trying to see what’s going on (Dammit!).
It wasn’t long before they crash into the railings with a yell and the flash of bright red light.
–
“Don’t fucking make me stop the car and make you walk.”
“Yeah, yeah, that threat was effective only for the first dozen times. Eyes on the road Hood.”
–
Hood gives her the folder when they’ve peeled out of the parking lot. Inside was a mugshot of a bulbous balding man taped over some files.
In big bold letters is the name JOSEPH VON DERM. International drug trafficking ringleader. Arrested for 50 cases of human trafficking, 10 counts of first degree murder.
Maximum detention escapee.
In the background, Birdy sings an agreeable cover of Skinny Love.
Behind them, is just miles of empty road. Still.
So far.
–
“You know, you’re made out of pretty tough shit, cupcake.”
“Hmm?” Marinette asks, almost too nonchalantly, as if she wasn’t sneaking oreos into her shirt. Good thing he doesn’t glance at her, else she’d be too red to defend that she’s not a psychopath that stuffs her bra with Oreos.
“Thanks for sticking around, you know, despite.” Gestures all around. “Appreciate it.”
Marinette smiles. It was a blatant olive branch if she knew one, and she knew a lot about those (Thank you, slightly traumatizing lycée experience!) “Fine. I’ll queue Summertime Sadness because you asked soooo nicely.”
–
When asked, Hood’s taste in music apparently is Lana del Rey. Despite being honest to God looking more punk rock than a Coachella patron.
Marinette tells him that.
“Your aesthetic is edgy, but you’re listening to white girl music. My music is edgy– with the air quotes Hood– but have a white girl aesthetic. We’re yin and yang, and I think that’s cute.”
“I’m not fucking cute.” Hood grumbles.
“Aww, don’t worry. Still not plugging in your music request tho, sucks to suck, eh Hood?”
–
Marinette is on snack patrol after a little persuasion with Red Hood for another promise to not leave without her (“Cupcake, I promised you Paris, does this look like Paris to you? Now if you could just let go of my pinky– ow– ow– it’s not supposed to bend that far back– ow– ow–”). To be fair, he didn’t explicitly say he was promising her home, just promised her he wouldn’t hurt her so she had to make sure. And if she banked on his first promise to not hurt her– and she did see his other hand twitch as if to rip her hold away– then who was anyone to judge. She wasn’t gonna get Witched-ed out of a contract. She wasn’t a Disney Princess. No siree.
She was better.
She’d throw hands at conspiring Evil Stepmothers any day.
It was still nice to see that Hood really did wait for her while he was out pumping for gas since he was too paranoid to remove his mask and Marinette was very vocal about being embarrassed by him if he tried purchasing Oreos as a villain (he only snorted and told her he did it all the time back in Gotham)((Wherever that is, but whatever– stop laughing Hood she’s very, incredibly, absolutely serious)).
What’s not nice to see is that Hood was out of the car, arms crossed and staring down scowling at someone who kinda looked like Hawkmoth.
If Hawkmoth actually shrunk down by a foot and suddenly developed a good idea of color theory.
(She’s just hating on the man right now, but he is her nemesis at this point and she can hate on his violet ass all day.)
The caped-cowl-man says, something Marinette’s too far to hear. Only the lower part of his face is showing and what it’s showing is that this dude knows how to show nothing. Impassive. It made the alarm bells in her head (which is surprisingly silent for the past few hours) blare out warning signals left and right.
Despite that, she could feel those expressionless eyes were already aware of her by the way Hood turns his head to acknowledge her too. Caped-cowl-man was creepy as hell, and that's saying something considering Marinette has met Adrien’s dad.
The caped-cowl-creepy-man tutts his tongue and Hood scoffs as Marinette comes closer. Caped-cowl-creepy-man gives Hood a folder. “Can’t I just be here to lend a hand, big Red?”
“You’re conniving.” Hood takes it with a wary glance, but his shoulders slumps.
“I’m bartering. There’s a difference.”
“Fine. But no blood on the wooden flooring, I just had it renovated.”
C-c-c-man’s lips twitch minutely. “Excellent. Thanks, Big Red.”
“Don’t make me regret this, baby bird.”
“You won’t, don’t worry. And if you do, it's Big Bird’s fault.”
“Fucking little shit.” Marinette reaches the car.
“Kiss your mom with that mouth?”
“We’re both orphans.”
“Are you guys okay?” She asks, hesitantly.
“Unfortunately.” Hood says as the other one grins a ‘Yep’.
The c-c-c-man laughs as he walks away with a wave and Marinette’s arm hair raises as she tracks his path towards the back of the convenience store where the building blocks the sunlight and blocks a path in the shadows. “Old friend of yours?”
“I don’t have friends, cupcake.”
Marinette snorts and glances up at him. “Yeah, and those redheads you were with in Paris were swiss cheese, get over yourself Hood.”
“Well, at least he’s not my friend.”
When she looks back, the person she was tracking is gone. Damn stupid caped-cowl-creepy man. He seriously gave her the heebie jeebies.
–
“We’re being followed.” Hood says as he adjusts the rear view mirror. “Red Corolla. AS 9632TZ. Has been following us for the past three hours.”
“You do know we’re on the highway, don’t you? Of course it’s following us, they’re also probably going to Paris.”
“Not if they were waiting on the bend before following us.”
Marinette blows a strand of hair out of her face. This is also why she didn’t want to interact with the JLA. They were a bunch of paranoid bastards. They’re all paranoid bastards, villains and all.
They should see someone for that. Honestly.
Hood grips the steering wheel too tight that the leather creaks.
“Listen, cupcake–”
“–Ladybug–”
“–I know you think I’m being pragmatic” (That’s one way to put it.) “but this doesn’t sit well with me.”
Marinette frowns as she looks at him fully. She doesn’t remember when he took off his helmet, but she was looking at him for the first time, noting the shock of black hair that was somewhat dark red in the early rays of sunlight. A domino mask (really Hood? Under your helmet?). Pointed cheekbones. A scar on top of his brow and on his chin. No stubble and a too young face with premature stress lines from frowning.
How old is Hood that he looks like he could be a classmate from college? Marinette thinks he kinda looks not bad for a villain.
To be fair, her only comparison is Hawkmoth and that villain needs to know a little thing about costume design and not-ruling-the-world etiquette.
“I think it’s one of mine. Rouges. Fuck, this means we might put you in danger. Civilian you.”
“Are you sure? Maybe it’s mine.” Heavily unlikely, and she knows it. Marinette frowns. “How did you–”
“You’re not entirely a well known anti-hero now in that form, are you now, cupcake? Besides, you're Paris based. These guys have been following us since Germany. They were waiting. Now keep your head down.”
Marinette gulps. Steadies her breathing. In 4, out 4. Ignores the crashing turbulence in her head. In 4, out 4. Thoughts of her civilian identity compromised claws at her throat. In 4, out 4. Hood knows her and now his enemies might know too. In 4, out 4. Which is stupid since the enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, right? In 4, out 4. Her family, friends, Chat, in danger because of–
In 4, out 4.
Ladybug breathes through her.
“Okay.”
Hood, still on edge, side eyes her and gives her shoulder a squeeze.
In 4, out 4.
“If it’s anything, I’m sorry to drag you into my mess. But now we have to focus, these are our immediate threats. I don’t recognize the plates, but this wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to take a hit on Red Hood.” A glance at her. “Let me know if you can view any details from the driver or any of the passengers.”
Marinette nods her head and glances at the side-view mirrors. The car has dark tinted windows, but she manages to see at least three shadows moving when the sunlight hits just right.
“Don’t attract any more attention, they just know me. We’ll get you out of here.”
In 4, out 4. She’s Ladybug.
“Okay. You stay eyes on the road so we can lose them. I’ll watch our backs. We’re nearing an exit so we can lose them in the next city. If it ever comes to it, we’ll get both of us out of here.”
If Marinette wasn’t too busy looking out of the side-view mirror, she would’ve seen the surprised raise of an eyebrow directed at her.
–
Apparently, ABBA was also something Hood didn’t appreciate.
Too bad for him, Marinette can sing the entirety of Dancing Queen on top of her mighty lungs and the Volkswagen can only go so fast.
Heroes - 1, Villains - 0
–
Between the car tailing them and wary glances, Marinette thinks the Scooby Doo tune is apparently a good car ride song.
If only because Red Hood groans under his breath the entire time.
–
They lose them when they enter the city of Metz, France with a professionally executed quick turn into an alley between a church and a hostel which would’ve been really cool and funny if Marinette didn't feel so panicked. You can tell it’s not her first rodeo though because the moment the Red Corolla disappeared in a turn she doesn’t immediately slap Hood for probably dragging her into an international incident. Marinette is the epitome of self restraint.
Instead she punches his shoulder for not telling her to brace for the mentioned professionally executed quick turn. Which is still totally valid, your honor and Hood’s lawyers.
“What was that for!”
“You could’ve warned a girl, asshole.” Marinette tells him, not too unkindly, rubbing where her neck chaffed with the seatbelt. “This is going to be irritating.”
“You’ll live, cupcake.” He tells her with a manic smile. “Besides, I’m right about being targeted.”
Marinette has to admit, they really were by how the other car was always within sight of them. Which feels awful to be on the run and not being in costume to face any retribution or even to hide her identity. But it’s more awful to let Red Hood believe he was right because he looks like he’s enjoying being right.
“Still an asshole.” She says with her arms crossed, totally not sulking. “Any way of knowing who they were and what they wanted?
A slight head shake. “Still nada.”
“So what do we do now?”
“We? You can hitch a bus ride somewhere, it’s commutable–”
Marinette frowns at him. If he was a man of his word, then so is she. “I said what I said Hood, we’ll get out of here.”
Red Hood looks at her, surprised etching his face and she’s pretty sure that mask just raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, if you still wanna stick around, we’re 3 hours away according to–”
And because apparently her terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day is extending (thank you, universe, really, just thank you), Marinette’s stomach growls like a cornered monster. Loud and angry. Blood pools on her face and someone might as well end her now.
“Oh. That’s the next step. Food.” Hood laughs, a bright sound far from his scratchy growls and modulated voice, that might have made Marinette’s blush deepen and might have given her a losing battle with the twitch at the corner of her mouth. Might because who knows, definitely not Marinette.
“We can get snacks in a gas station– we might as well fuel up.”
–
To be honest, at this moment in time, Marinette is less antagonizing of Hood considering his life is on the line and he did feel bad about dragging her into his mess.
So she doesn’t sing as loud during the next few songs.
But he did drag her into this mess.
So he’ll still have to endure her queue of Bo Burnham songs.
–
“How did we end up in Germany by the way?”
“Oh, by two things really.”
“And they are?”
“Magic and–”Marinette faces him, completely deadpan, and pinches the pointer and thumb together by her eyes. “–sleep deprivation.” Slowly widens her fingers apart with a flair. Surprise in ASL.
“Really?”
“Nah, dude, I thought it was totally hilarious we got stranded in the middle of nowhere on 2 hours of sleep in 3 days, leaving our friends in Paris and joyriding a hotwired car with assassins hot on our heels. Hilarious, utterly, hilarious.”
Hood laughs again and Marinette doesn’t fight a smile.
She thinks she’d have to explain to him the freaking mess that is Paris sometime.
–
She knows when she tells Red Hood that she can’t teleport them home– that this is a lie. Khaalki probably was, maybe even hours ago when Ladybug was taken, but she didn’t want to leave Hood out there with Von Derm alone. Whereas before she’d jump into the opportunity to go back to Paris, now she just feels like taking the long journey home.
“You know there’s probably a town somewhere nearby. I heard a highway somewhere when they held me. Maybe they have some supplies there for that.”
Ladybug can feel him watching her, but she doesn’t comment on it, and if he sees through her, he doesn’t call her out on it. They sit in the silence of the barn, listening to the breeze flow through the gaps in the walls, birds waking up in chirps, and intersped with their soft breaths. Sunlight was beginning to shine in from the cracked window.
Well, they were late anyway.
“Maybe.” Ladybug lets a smile grace her lips. “Or maybe we can hotwire a car.”
“Or maybe we can hotwire a car.” Hood agrees with a lilt in his voice.
“I’m driving.”
“Only if you can reach the pedals shortstack.”
“Don’t make me regret this Hood.” Ladybug tries to keep an offended face, but it cracks into a smile. It was nice, not looking for insults in his statements where it annoyed her before and finding it actually funny. Without the heat between the two of them and knowing where each of them stand, it was like hearing him for the first time.
She clears her throat. “Thanks. By the way. For you know, everything.” She gestures around them.
Hood huffs. “And thank you too, for, you know.” He gestures to his body, where a huge gaping wound was there before her magic cured his body and armor. “For what it’s worth, even if we were on ‘hero-villain’ dynamics– before I mean– I never was gonna leave you with them.”
Ladybug nods. “I know. I believe you. You’re a good person, Hood.”
There was a twitch in Hood’s face and a flurry of emotions she couldn’t tell, but it gets replaced with a blank look before she could interpret it. His mouth settles on a smile, a soft one not marred with sarcasm and edges of antagonistic glee she was so used to seeing.
Ladybug thinks it suits him.
“It’s Jason.”
“What?”
“My name.” Hood gives a huff of a laugh. “My name’s Jason.”
Ladybug returns the gesture with a head tilt. “Jason.” She breathes, testing the name on her tongue and finding that she likes it. “I’m Marinette.”
“Hi, Marinette.”
“Hi, Jason.”
They look back at each other, fully and without masks, like drawing a curtain of doubt and hostility to see a big bright picture, and they just smile.
On their way back, Marinette learns that all Jason knows about French history is through Les Misérables (“–the play, not the movie, I love Lea Solonga; although Anne Hathaway is pretty hot–”). Jason discovers that Marinette has road rage (“–YOU HAVE A TURN SIGNAL THE WAY YOU HAVE A BRAIN! FOR THE LOVE OF KWAMI USE IT!–”). Marinette got an earful of something called Catch-22 (“–it’s all about futility and irony you see–”) and Jason gets to hear all about tailoring (“–now if I ever did want to embarrass someone, I’d probably take a seam ripper to half of their closet, just for plausible deniability–”).
All throughout, they at least agreed on The Script being the safe background music.
During that time, Jason meets Tikki with a denied squeal (because Red Hood does. not. squeal.), a brief overview of kwami lore and a cute threat about how certain goddesses of creation are in contact with a guy named Constantine in case he goes revealing Ladybug to the world. Marinette meets Nightwing who pulls up next to them in a gas station with an honest to God hovercraft and yelling at Hood about lowered vitals and panicked families all the while hugging Jason to death (now, isn’t that funny? Marinette took pictures, don’t worry please-call-me-Nightwing she can send them over right now).
And if Chat Noir and the ugly cap-bow-guy and flying-‘isn’t she cold?’-girl sees that somehow between their disappearance and upon their return that the named and themed Reds have unionized (“–it only took like a car ride, 2 days full of bathroom breaks, and a kidnapping before we started not killing each other–”, “–a Kidnapping? Hood?!”, “–yes, a kidnapping, keep up Kitty you’re embarassing us, and we got to drive a car back home–”, “–I’m afraid I do not understand, that does not look like a car Ladybug–”, “–it has four wheels and can go over 90 miles, yes it’s a car Starfire–”, “–y’all crazy that’s a crumpled can of tin who drove this–”, “–Jason let’s go back to Germany I left my fucks to give in the other car–”, “–HOLY SHIT YOU JUST CURSED!–”, “Wait, wait, wait, Red Hood’s name is JASON?!–”), they might just be a little scared to ask about it.
And if Jason finds his fingers intertwined with Marinette’s the entire interrogation, he didn’t look like he minds.
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