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coffeebanana · 6 months

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20 questions for Fic Writers

Omg it took me ages to get to this but better late than never! Thanks for the tags @rosie-b, @monpetitchattriste, @lesbitorte, @kasienda and @celestialtitania!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Um. 107*... It's possible that I have a problem 😂

(*one is on anon. more on that later adfdsd)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

801,972!!! (fun fact i was just below 800k the first time i got tagged in this game so i was like "oh well i'm posting a new chapter tomorrow...i'll do this game after that so i can pass that milestone!" and then i posted the chapter but it took me close to a week to do this ahaha)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mostly just ml. i have a few spop fics too but i don't really write for that fandom anymore. or at least not right now.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Gah. okay. I'm going to answer this honestly but to do that I first need to explain that my most kudoed fic is on anon because I'm annoyed it's my most kudoed fic aksjfbksdb. Like. It's only so popular because there's a bit of lila salt? and really the fic isn't about that but i don't really write that kind of thing anymore and i don't want ppl coming to my profile and sorting by kudos and seeing that first. There are other things i'd do a lot differently in that fic now too ahaha.

Break a Leg

Cards Against Ladybug's Identity

Ladybug And The Tramp Stamp

Imaginary Friends

The Sun Will Rise Again

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do!! I reply to pretty much every comment--unless it's particularly rude/rubs me the wrong way. I know commenting takes time and I appreciate the effort ppl put into it so I like to give my thanks back!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Every Teardrop is a Waterfall. Although I think Girl Is A Gun is a strong contender too?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uh...well, most of my fics have happy or at least hopeful endings. I don't think I can narrow this down to just a few haha.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don't think I've ever gotten hate? Definitely some comments that aren't super nice but nothing too bad. (now i've probably gone and jinxed it 😂)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

um. a little tiny bit but not enough to have a particular kind LOL. i've only posted it once so far. but i also have Entangled, which will have smut in the next chapter--and that's angsty smut. which i suppose would be my brand of smut if i ever write any more

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

i haven't! i entertained the idea of an ml/spop crossover a couple years ago but i don't have any interest in it anymore. oh and i ALSO had an idea for a marigami spyxfamily crossover. but i don't know if i'll ever get around to that

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of! (*knocks on forehead since no wood is nearby*)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but that would be super cool!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have not! a few times i've planned to write things with other ppl but nothing that ever really made it to the writing stage ahaha. although the littlebug vday zine is a collab in the form of a series--not exactly co-written but similar vibes

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

to write for, definitely the love square. and then catradora is so special to me because it got me back into writing and also i started IDing as a lesbian in part because i binged spop.

aside from that i can't really decide because like. there are so many shows i've seen and books i've read and ships i've loved for so many different reasons asdfbk. and then i have OC ships that only live in my head but that i love to play with sometimes before i fall asleep at night. so please don't make me choose!!

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

uh. i would say none of them? because it's only when i completely lose interest in a fic that i lose the belief i'll finish it. and that's only happened with maybe two of my wips i can think of?

16. What are your writing strengths?

Depicting emotions! And using the setting to do that by establishing the mood/tone/etc...

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i guess like...self-doubt? not that i'm awful with it. in general i think i'm pretty good that way. but it's my biggest barrier to writing when i have periods where i get in my head about my writing, and it can make me overthink and not know if i LIKE my writing. and i think my writing is at its best when i'm having fun with it (which is probably true of most ppl), so...

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think it makes sense when the characters are actually speaking that language for a short time but aren't speaking it for most of the fic? like i have one ml AU set in new york so they're speaking english for most of it and i used french for the first couple lines that were french (and weaved the translations into the narrative). so that's the only time i do that personally--aside for maybe one word lines like bonjour--but as a reader it doesn't usually bother me when i see it used other ways

19. First fandom you wrote for?

ahaha the Vampire Academy book series. and NO you won't find those fics anywhere, even though they are still out there somewhere

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

currently Say Something. and i very much wish i could finish writing it, but it'll happen when it happens!

I think most people I would have tagged have probably been tagged by this point...likely more than once 😂. So whoever else wants to play should do so!!

#tag game #long post

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mlwritersguild · 1 year

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MARCH RECAP POST

Hi, all!

It’s the start of spring, and we at the MWG are excited to share with you all what our members have been up to over the past month.

March Monthly Event - Roll for your Fate

Our event this past month asked our members to try their luck in a randomized event. We rolled (virtual) dice to assign them a universe, trope and line of dialogue! The characters, ships and general content were completely left to them. March event fics in the list below will be highlighted in green and denoted with an asterisk!

March Published Fic List

Our writers are always cooking up something, so here's a quick list of everything our members published this month! (Tags included to help you pick out your next read)

square modified brilliant by @alexseanchai

lovesquare // ladybug and chat noir’s wedding // post-reveal // post hm defeat // disabled adrien and marinette // mwg feb event

these are times that can't be weathered (and we have never been back there since then) by @queer-cosette

oc-centric // ls // hawkmoth identity reveal // valentine’s day // dead emilie agreste // breaking and entering // tw animal violence

Anything To Get You Back by @purrfectlypunny

ls // lukadrien // canon divergence villain!Adrien // hurt adrien agreste // tired luka couffaine // other tags to be added

What Else Did You Imagine? by @coffeebanana

ls // fluff // light angst // prpr // post-hawkmoth defeat // aged-up characters // mutual pining // ‘beach’ fic

we always get along (oh, why, oh, why) by noirshitsuji

alyagami // debate rivals au // background fwb felichloe // exes!djwifi // lila being lila // mwg december event

Blinding Lights by @miabrown007

adrienette // established relationship // fluff and humour // post-reveal // moving in together // adrienette zine

*Road Trip by @asilentsonata

lovesquare, felinino, core 4 + felix, road trips, felix redemption

What’s Coming Next?

Our April Event is hinted at in the recap bulletin board at the top of this post. Think you can guess our theme? Leave your guesses in the tags!

This month is also host to Adrinette April! Our members are always allowed to write for prompt months to complete their participation, but we encourage you to keep an eye on @adrinetteapril and their amazing prompt month posts. Tons of amazing creators will be making content this month for this sweet pairing!

Got a prompt event, zine or other ML project in the works? Tag the blog or contact our mod @marimeetsmischief for a mutual promotion agreement! We're always happy to support other ML fandom projects!

Stay Miraculous,

MWG Mod Team

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mlsquaredance · 10 months

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ML Square Dance — Moderators

Noodles — Head Mod (@ladyofthenoodle)

Hi, I’m noodles! I’ve been in ML fandom for a few years now and my favorite side of the square is Ladynoir. I have moderated for a several events, including Coup de Foudre: An Adrinette Zine, Ladynoir July, and Miraculous Core Four Week. I’m really excited to be running this event and I can’t wait to see what everyone remixes!

Bren — Organizational Mod (@jattendschaton)

Hello! I'm bren and I'm excited to be an organization/matching mod for this event! I joined the ML fandom in 2015 and have since helped run the ML Secret Santa for several years as well as modded multiple zines such as the Ladynoir zine, the Ladrien zine, and the Adrien zine. I look forward to seeing everyone's creations!

Lettuce — Graphics Mod (@miraculosus)

Hey leafas here better known as Lettuce 🥬 I’m an artist who became a fan of Miraculous in 2015 but didn’t get too actively involved in the fandom until last year. This is my first time helping run an event like this and I’m excited to contribute as a graphics mod!

Asukiess — Discord Mod (@asukiess)

Hi, I’m asukiess (aka Autumn)! I’ll be helping moderate the discord as well as a point of contact for participants. I enjoy being silly and having fun with people, and I’m excited to be apart of such a fun event. I’m excited to see how creative people can get!

Mia — Social Media Mod (@miabrown007)

Hey, I'm Mia! I'm a writer, a Marichat/Ladrien solidarity advocate, and the social media mod for this event. I have experience with managing ship months, as well as running the ML Big Bang since 2021. I'm very pumped for this LS-centric event and can't wait to see everyone's creations!

For more information: Schedule || FAQ || Rules

#miraculous ladybug #fandom event #moderators #ml square dance

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edendaphne · 3 years

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Here's the piece I did for the @mlwriterzine , "Once Upon a Season"! I got to do the full-page illustration for the "Summer" chapters of the book!

A big thank you to everyone who was able to purchase a zine and help support fan writers; we raised $2,385 for Ao3 thanks to you!

(Visit the ML Writer Zine Tumblr to find the various fanfics (plus art!) that were featured in the zine!) https://mlwriterzine.tumblr.com/

#ML writer zine #Miraculous Ladybug #Marichat #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Chat Noir #Adrien Agreste #zine #Eden Art #My Art: Miraculous Ladybug #Fan Art #fanfiction art

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yunyin · 3 years

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Here’s my piece for the @mlwriterzine, Miraculous Writer Zine: Once Upon a Season!

While primarily a showcase for writers, (so many good fics!) the zine also includes 4 full illustrations like this one (and really adorable chapter headers, plus a gorgeous cover!)

As you can see, I chose Spring and Ladynoir for my piece. I really love that I was able to be a part of this! We were able to donate $2,385 to AO3!

#yunyinart #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #mlwriterzine #ml writer zine #chat noir #ladybug #spring #black and white #Any project of Em's is a good time

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mlwriterzine · 3 years

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The Miraculous Writer Zine: Once Upon a Season is on sale NOW!

All proceeds will be donated to AO3 (Archive of Our Own) ✨ CLICK HERE TO BUY TODAY!

The shop will be open from November 2nd - 30th. There is a VERY LIMITED supply of physical soft cover editions, so don’t wait if you want to grab one! There is also an unlimited supply of digital editions available. Once the shop is closed though, the zine will no longer be available and will not go on sale again.

✨ About the Zine:

The Miraculous Writer Zine: Once Upon a Season is the first zine of its kind in the Miraculous fandom. This collection was built out of a love of telling stories, as well as an appreciation for all the content creators in the fandom.

Once Upon a Season is a compilation of 24 stories, each from a different author. This book contains a full year of never-before-seen standalone tales. Each story allows a glimpse into the world of Miraculous Ladybug during one of the four seasons: summer, spring, fall, and winter. The pages are also sprinkled with gorgeous illustrations from a handful of guest artists.

Everyone worked incredibly hard and put a lot of love into this zine, so please consider purchasing - it’ll be worth it! If you can’t, please help spread the word! Thank you 💖

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shirairo · 3 years

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Here are the summer spots I made for the wonderful @mlwriterzine ! It was really fun to work with everyone involved, and I’m really proud that we were able to to raise $2385 for AO3.

I was not able to share through the illustrations alone, that all the flowers featured in the illustrations have meanings that coordinates with the plot. I am sharing the info below with links to the wonderfully skilled writers that created these stories. :)

For Transience by @ao3bronte

White lily - sincere, pride.

For Storm Soundtrack by @omnistruck:

Hydrangea - shifting feelings, a change of heart.

For Shattered Sunshine by @inkjackets:

Amur Adonis - sorrowful rememberance, sad memories.

For The Start of A Song by @their-destinys-writer:

Lavender - Slience, “Waiting for your answer”, “Please answer me”, anticipation, confusion.

For A Midsummer’s Daydream by @soundofez :

Silene/Catchfly - temptation, fake love, lingering affection.

For I’m Gonna Miss You When It’s Over by Bee:

White orchid - purity, innocence.

Again, thank you all for supporting this Zine! And please check out these wonderful creators’ contents! :)

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous: tales of ladybug and chat noir #ml writer zine #srkart #marichat #adrienette #ladynoir #lukanette

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lnc2 · 3 years

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this time next year

Summary: Marinette is worried about the future. Adrien wants to know where he fits into it.

A/N: This piece was written for the @mlwriterzine and I’m so excited to finally share this with you! I hope you enjoy it and also go check out the zine because there are so many amazing stories/art pieces collected there.

AO3

The party was well underway by the time Adrien knocked on Nino’s door. Alya was the one who answered, half of her face obscured by gold tin foil pinned to a green beret.

“Speak of the devil,” she grinned, leaning heavily on the door frame.

Adrien bussed her cheek and passed over the bottle of rosé he’d swiped from his father’s wine cellar. “Sorry, Alya. The show ran late. You know how those things go.”

She waved him in, whistling at the bottle in her hands, and shook her head. “Thankfully I don’t. Everyone’s in the living room.”

Adrien followed her into the kitchen instead, eyes straying over the tipsy, crowded apartment. Back against the wall, where Nino’s faded and cracked leather couch usually sat, was a long table covered in gold plastic sheeting. Green and gold hats of various styles were littered across, as well as glitter, rhinestones, netting, feathers, and any other number of crafting materials.

He smiled. “I see you’ve all started without me.”

“Naturally,” Alya said, putting his gift in the fridge to chill. “You’re several drinks behind us now, Agreste. Pick your poison.” She gestured to the half-empty bottles of liquor scattered across the bar.

“No tequila?”

She snorted. “You’ll have to track down Marinette for that one. She ran off with the bottle half an hour ago.”

Something warm filled his chest. “A cup of ice and a lime then.”

“Good luck with that,” Alya said, bumping his shoulder as she passed him the glass. Adrien laughed as he followed her into the living room, his smile widening as he spotted Kagami fussing with the green flowers on her gold newspaper hat.

“I’m not sure how I feel about this.”

Alya batted her hand away. “It’s tradition!”

She pressed her lips together. “It’s archaic.”

“Boo,” a familiar voice called from behind him. Adrien’s heart stuttered as a familiar pair of arms slipped around his waist. “It’s just for fun. No one takes it seriously.”

Adrien thought back to earlier in the evening and Gabriel’s annual Saint Catherine’s Day gala and couldn’t agree. There was a stark difference between the frivolousness and whimsy of Nino’s house party and the staid sobriety of his father’s fashion show.

As if reading his thoughts, Marinette’s eyes sparkled up at him beneath gold netting. “At least no one here.”

“Speak for yourself,” Alya said. She adjusted her hat and threw an accusatory look towards Nino. “Tick tock, babe.”

“You won’t let me propose until you’re out of grad school,” he whined.

Adrien hid his grin as the familiar argument ensued. Instead, he tipped his cup of ice towards the half-empty bottle in Marinette’s hand.

“You’re one of the few people I’d share with,” she said, filling his glass. Adrien leaned down to whisper his gratitude only to be pushed from the other side, causing them to knock heads.

Marinette laughed waving off his apologies with a squeeze to his waist even as their assaulter continued to elbow into the group.

“I’m never getting married,” Alix announced from her position on the back of one of Alya’s coworkers. There was a crown on her head but no decorations. She gestured wildly with her free hand. “Just call me Queen Catherinette.”

“All hail,” Alya said, clinking her wine glass against a reluctant Kagami’s. Her glassy eyes strayed towards Marinette. “What about you, girl? It’s been a while since I’ve heard about Emma, Louis, and Hugo.”

Adrien tried not to sound too interested when he asked, “Who?”

Marinette laughed, her flushed cheeks flushing further. “I’m afraid that future is on hold, Al. I need to find a boyfriend first.”

She removed her arm from around his waist then and Adrien had to restrain himself from pulling her back to his side. Instead, he took a healthy swallow of tequila and let the conversation drift into less turbulent waters.

Now was hardly the time to volunteer his name to the top of her list.

Adrien could think of two, maybe three very important conversations they needed to have before he could even approach that topic. The most pressing of which weighed heavy on his right hand and sparkled like precious gems on his lady’s ears.

He watched over the rim of his glass as Marinette giggled with the other women in their silly hats. One of them—Alix’s roommate, he thought—burst out with a jubilant, “For pity’s sake, give us a husband!” only for the others to raise their glasses with various tipsy rounds of, “Hear, hear!”

He smiled as Marinette wrestled Kagami’s fidgeting hands away from her hat. It had only been a few weeks since their reveal but Adrien was struggling to see how he could have missed the woman he’d loved for a decade in his dear and wonderful friend.

“Some party, huh?”

Adrien coughed as Nino slapped him on the back just as he was swallowing. Nino laughed at his accusing glare.

“Sorry man,” he said, grinning. “I thought you heard me coming but I guess you were distracted.”

Adrien ignored the teasing lilt in his friend’s voice.“It’s a good crowd,” he said instead. “I’m sorry I was so late.”

“No worries. Although if everything goes well hopefully this will be the last Saint Catherine’s party we’ll be hosting.”

Adrien laughed. “You think you’ll have worn Alya down by then?”

Nino shrugged. “Fingers crossed. I’ve had this ring burning a hole in my pocket for two months now.”

“Maybe you should be the one wearing the hat.” He grinned, only to receive a rough shove to his shoulder.

“You’re one to talk.”

Adrien pretended not to understand.

“Seriously, dude?” Nino shook his head. “You’re not that slick. If you like her you should just ask her out. I know for a fact she used to have a thing for you.”

And even though Adrien already knew that, even though Marinette told him so several years earlier when her crush was a thing of the past as she’d laughingly put it, hearing his heart’s desire put into words so matter-of-factly did things to him.

Things like make him want to punch a hole in the nearest wall or tear out his hair in frustration.

Because really, how was it fair that the one woman he’d spent years chasing had actually spent several years of her own chasing him right back?

It wasn’t.

Not when Adrien still found himself in the chase and she had apparently just … stopped.

“That was a long time ago, Nino.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that.”

“... Why?” Adrien stared, stomach clenching. “Did she say something? Did Alya say something?”

His heart raced like hummingbirds wings in his throat as he tried to catch his friend’s gaze.

Adrien grabbed his shoulder and shook. “Nino.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny anything.” He laughed, before hiding his smile behind his glass as they caught Alya’s attention across the room. Adrien met her suspicious frown with a wave even as his other hand tightened on Nino’s shoulder.

“But …?”

“But … I wouldn’t count myself out just yet.”

Adrien’s hand fell to his side as all of his breath rushed out of him. “Oh.”

“Although, that may change if you don’t do something about it. Sooner rather than later if Kim’s roommate is anything to go by.”

Nino nodded towards the corner of the room where Marinette was chatting with a tall brunette. He was leaning towards her, his fingers playing at the edge of the netting on her hat as he whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. Adrien was already halfway across the room when Nino shouted, “Good luck!”

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do to break up their little tete-a-tete but he needn’t have worried. As soon as he was in her line of sight Marinette’s smile lit up like the Eiffel tower and there was little left for him to do other than introduce himself before the interloper tried his luck elsewhere.

“Come outside with me,” she said, tugging his arm. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“Your fault,” Adrien said, happy to follow her anywhere. “You canceled patrol.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You know I had to finish up those pieces for your father’s show.”

“At least you weren’t forced to go.”

She laughed and leaned back against the balcony railing. It was cooler than usual tonight as fall slowly gave way to winter and they had the little patio all to themselves. “Perks of being a lowly intern.”

“Please,” he said, bumping her shoulder. “You’ll be a junior designer by next year.”

She hummed, taking a swig of tequila from the bottle only to cough as it hit the back of her throat.

“You can mix that with something you know?”

His lady winced and took another sip, smaller this time. “Who has time for that?”

“You if you’d just slow down.”

It was only half a joke. Lately, even before their Big Reveal, Adrien noticed something changing in Marinette. She was a little less scattered, a little more single-minded. There was almost a frenzied focus about her, like some great fear was nipping at her heels, spurring her forward.

It wasn’t until her timer ran out during an akuma attack that he began to understand why.

“It was ten years this September,” she murmured, turning out to face the cobbled streets below.

Adrien hesitated before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into his side.

“We’ll get him, bug. I promise.”

“But when, Chat?” She started to lean her head against his shoulder only for her hat to get in the way. Frustrated, she ripped the little masterpiece off her head and crushed it in her hands.

“Stupid holidays aside, I do want a life, Adrien.” She ripped lightly at the netting. “You said I’ll make junior designer by next year? I don’t see how that’s possible when I’m running out of work every other day because someone couldn’t control their emotions.”

Her voice caught on the last word and he was horrified to realize she was crying. “I want to run my own business someday. I want –– I want to fall in love and get married and have babies.” She looked up, teary gaze meeting his. “How can I do anything when I always have one foot out the window waiting for the next catastrophe? Who could put up with that?”

“You’re not someone a person has to put up with, my lady.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Right. Tell that to my exes.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, because really that’s all he could do.

“Don’t be.” She sniffed, giving him a sad, sad smile. “You can’t do anything about it any more than I can.”

That wasn’t entirely true though.

Adrien turned his attention towards the scrunched up hat in her hands. Marinette followed his gaze and gave a watery laugh.

“I want it all, Adrien,” she whispered.

“I know,” he whispered.

“Do you?” she asked, eyes wide and blue and wet and angry. “Do you really?”

Adrien pulled her to him then, giving her the hug her fears deserved. Marinette clutched at his back, her arms sliding beneath his coat to wrap around his waist, giving as good as she got.

“I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Tears stung his eyes and words, the right words, stuck in the back of his throat as she gave voice to desires he’d never been brave enough to even dream. Not when Ladybug said no and not when Marinette said not anymore and not when they merged and became everything he’d ever wanted but feared he’d never have.

She wanted it all.

Adrien closed his eyes and breathed in his lady’s perfume. Freesia and jasmine and something he’d never been able to name. Marinette’s arms loosened around his waist when it seemed like he would pull away, but Adrien only held her tighter.

“I––” He stopped. “You said you don’t want to slow down?”

Marinette nodded.

“Well … how—how would you feel about a chaser?”

She pulled away so she could see his face. “A chaser?” she repeated, frowning.

Adrien bit his lip, feeling heat rushing up his neck and ears. “Ah, yeah,” he said, doing his best to hold her gaze. “Like—like a partner. To your tequila, I mean.”

Adrien watched as confusion gave way to understanding in the form of a perfect little open-mouthed oh. His heart was pounding hard enough he was starting to suspect she could hear it when her eyes glistened up at him beneath the dim porch lights.

God help him but he couldn’t trust himself. He couldn’t trust the gentleness in her gaze or the way her body went soft against his or the purse of her lips as she watched him with that pleased little half-smile as realization gave way to something and that something could only be called wonderful as she ducked her head beneath his chin, pressed her lips against the open collar skin of his neck and finally, finally whispered in that small, hopeful impatient way of hers,

“Are you volunteering?”

And even though he knew she knew and even though the question really didn’t require an answer, Adrien tightened his hold on her until they were swaying together chest to chest and repeated the only thing he’d ever wanted to give her.

Yes.

#miraculous ladybug #lnc2 writes #post reveal pre relationship #adrinette #ml writer zine #adrienette

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omniswords · 3 years

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Storm Soundtrack [Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng]

I'm so honored to have been part of @mlwriterzine , and even more honored to write about my two favorite things: Marinette's birthday, and Luka 😂 We just got permission to post our pieces, so here was mine.

Anyway, enjoy!

New York.

She was going to New York.

And she was eighteen.

Marinette had heard a lot about both of these things. That because she was eighteen, she could drive—except in New York she could have been driving at least a year ago. (Not that anyone drove in New York anyway, because it was, according to Mrs. Bourgeois, a total nightmare.) And because she was eighteen, she could drink—except in New York she’d have to wait three more years, the reason for which was beyond her, especially considering she wasn’t terribly keen on drinking in the first place. And because she was eighteen, she could play the lottery—and in that respect, at least New York was the same—but it didn’t mean much to her when she felt such a stinging guilt about getting money that she hadn’t really earned.

Somehow, it all already felt like too much, and she was only hours in. Still in the middle of her own birthday party, even. And the one thing that had not, and probably would not change, she noted grimly, was that she still didn’t know what to do when everyone gathered to sing “Happy Birthday.”

Seriously, what was she supposed to do? Sing along? Clap? Dance? Smile and wave, boys, smile and wave?

Did anyone know?

Marinette was more than relieved when the song ended—partly because it meant she didn’t have to just sit here awkwardly, and partly because it gave her a few moments of silence and darkness except for the candles on the cupcake arrangement in front of her. She gathered her hair back, closed her eyes, and at least tried to make a wish. She never knew what to wish for, either. The fact that she had friends, family, and her own health was enough of a blessing, but it was still fun to act a little mysterious if anyone asked about it. And besides, she could always say, sometime after she’d opened her gifts in the privacy of her room, that she’d gotten exactly what she wanted.

Because, well, it wasn’t a lie. She had gotten exactly what she wanted. She was happy with her best friends from middle and high school filling the apartment, with her father presenting her with a cupcake specially decorated with fondant and edible glitter, even with her grandmother coming all the way from Italy and offering to take her out for a nighttime motorcycle ride on the town. She was eighteen, and happy, and for the first time in a while, she felt like she’d really earned it.

There was a tap on her shoulder, and she jolted to attention so quickly she nearly dropped her cupcake. When she turned, though, relief flooded her at the sight of Luka standing there, with his easygoing smile and his guitar strapped to his back. His face was flushed, and his hair and clothes were starting to cling to him. It was hard to tell whether it was because of the end-of-July heat getting to him or the fact that he might have biked all the way to her house at top speed.

“Hey,” he said with a two-finger salute.

Marinette couldn’t help smiling up at him; somehow, she always forgot how tall he’d gotten over the years, how he stood proudly at almost six feet when she considered it a miracle that she’d broken past five. “You made it!” she chirped, having the foresight to set her cupcake down before she let him envelop her in a hug and kiss her on both cheeks.

“Of course I made it. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Not even for an extra shift.” He let go of her, gracing her with a wink.

Part of her wanted to laugh behind a hand, but there was too much of her that felt too guilty. This close, it wasn’t hard to catch the circles under Luka’s eyes. He’d been working himself ragged lately. He always had been, she knew; he felt like he had to earn his keep for most things the same way she did. But it seemed like it had been particularly hard on him, or like he’d been particularly hard on himself, since he graduated high school a couple of years ago. Like he wasn’t just trying to earn anymore—he was trying to provide.

Still, it never seemed like it was something he wanted to dwell on, or something he ever wanted her or anyone else to worry about. So if he dismissed it with a smile and a wink, or a message that he was just a bit tired, then what could she do about it but worry quietly?

Marinette nodded toward his guitar. “Do you want to play?” she asked. “Or do you want to put it up in my room so it’s safe?” Or do you need a nap? You definitely look like you could use a nap. Oh God, wait, I’m not inviting you like that, I promise—

“I can keep it upstairs for now,” Luka agreed—to her relief, because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could think in those circles. With a casual wave to her parents and friends, he followed her up the stairs to her room. Marinette couldn’t help a scowl and a blush when she caught the knowing grin on Alya’s face.

Really? Really?

Together, they looked for a safe place to stow away his guitar. Luka ended up tucking it in the space between her work desk and her vanity, under her loft. “I always forget how cool your room is,” he said offhand. “It’s very… you.”

“Me?” Marinette looked around, brow furrowed. None of her stuff was packed away yet—she still had a month before she was supposed to leave—but it still looked like an organized clutter of fabric, sketches, decorations that only seemed to go together if you squinted. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “It’s got your vibes. A little scattered, but mostly put together, and cozy. Safe.” If he laughed then, it was to himself, and she could barely hear it. But she felt it. And she thought she liked feeling it. He wove past her, never studying one corner or wall for too long, until his eyes landed on the skylight. “Is that how you get up to your balcony?”

“Huh? Oh… Yeah!” Marinette was halfway up the steps to her bed before she realized what she was doing, and she managed an awkward laugh. “I just climb right up, you know?”

This time, when Luka laughed, she could hear it and feel it. A rumble, a warmth in her stomach. “You must have some crazy upper body strength.” He paused, running his hand along the banister. “Say… If it wouldn’t be weird, any chance I could meet you up there after this is over?”

“After?” The question shouldn’t have stunned her as much as it did, or make her blush as much as it did; that wasn’t the summer heat she was feeling in her cheeks. “Uh, yeah! After! Sure, yes… Cool.”

Luka was still smiling, even as his voice dropped to a murmur. “Cool,” he said, though it sounded more like a breath. As he slipped past her and jogged down the stairs back to the party, Marinette couldn’t help the way her gaze lingered after him. Even if it did take a moment for it to really sink in.

Cool.

Cool, cool, cool.

Marinette was most definitely not cool.

———

The funny thing was, the more Luka seemed to change and grow into himself—taking the bac, finishing high school, kicking up his work to full-time and then some—the more most of him seemed to stay the same. He made nice with practically everyone; he let Juleka get seconds on the cupcakes before he’d even had firsts; he tapped his toes to whatever music was playing and drummed his fingers along the armrest of the couch like it was a keyboard or the neck of his guitar. And he insisted, as the party wound down and her other friends and family were leaving, on helping her parents clean the apartment so they could rest easy. “Ma may be the champion of messes and chaos at home,” he said with a casual shrug, “But she still taught me to pull my own weight as soon as I could walk.”

It sounded right, and Marinette couldn’t tell who was smiling wider: her, or her father.

Probably her.

Of course it’d be her.

He was good at pulling his weight, though, lugging around a large trash bag and wrapping up trash in the vinyl tablecloth they wouldn’t be using again. It was… sweet. Almost as sweet as the times that he would pause in the middle of some task, smile at her from across the room, and then turn right back to his work. He’d been doing that for years now, and it still made her stomach flutter—sometimes when she didn’t want it to. Most of the time, she’d started to realize, she did want it to.

“Will you be safe getting home, Luka?” Marinette’s mother called from the kitchen over the sound of rushing water. “I know you told your sister not to wait up for you.”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied, casual and calm as always as he tied off the trash bag and handed it to her father. “I just have to get my guitar from upstairs. Thank you for letting me stay.”

Marinette would swear that, on his way to the dumpster outside, her father was watching her suspiciously as she and Luka scurried up the stairs to her room, as though she wasn’t going to be on her own an entire ocean away in a matter of weeks. She understood her father, she really did, but he didn’t always have to be so… adamant, about how he’d always see her as his little girl. At least he’d had the good sense not to say so during the party. She hoped he’d have the good sense not to say anything after Luka left, too.

Luka’s guitar was tucked away right where he left it. He took it by the neck and made for the stairs that led up to her balcony. “Can we?” he asked, actually sounding halfway uncertain. “I’ve never been up there before.”

She nodded so fast she was afraid her head might come clean off, but she managed to laugh at herself with him, however nervous. She followed him up the steps, hoisting herself up onto the balcony; Luka lagged behind, not just to hand off his guitar to her, but also to toss his shoes up and climb up after them. “Didn’t wanna step on your blankets with my sneakers. Who knows what they’ve stepped in.”

Honestly, Marinette was too busy staring in awe at how easily he’d pushed himself up to care about that. Or about the heat, even this late at night, whipping across her skin. Had he always had muscles like that? And when did that snake tattoo get there?

He offered her a sheepish shrug as he closed the latch; of course he’d noticed her staring. “Boat,” was all he said in explanation as he pulled on his sneakers and tied them up again. He held out both hands for the guitar, and she gave it to him so mechanically that she’d barely realized she’d done it.

“So, um…” Now the end of July was getting to her; she had to shrug out of her flannel and tie it around her waist and put up her hair to keep it from tickling and clinging to the back of her neck. She hoped he didn’t mind, but she always got the sense he thought candid fit her best. “What’d you want to come up here for?”

Luka tilted his head. “I wanted to give you your present.” As though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Almost instantly, Marinette’s stomach lurched. A gift? For her? In private? “Luka,” she began, though her insistence sounded weak, “you know you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” He shrugged again. “Is that okay?”

“I… Yeah, of course it’s okay. I’m not gonna tell you it’s not okay—”

He laughed under his breath; it should have flustered her, but, instead, she only felt more comfortable. Strangely so. “Okay,” he said. “Get comfy.”

Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t ask questions, no matter how much she wanted to. She only settled in her deck chair, keeping her eyes on him as she grabbed a nearby hand fan. It kept her cool, sure, but more than anything it gave her hands something to do. For some reason, they always needed that, especially when she was asked to do mostly nothing. She only fanned herself faster when he fished out a pick and readjusted his guitar in his lap, poised to play.

Oh, God.

A song. She should have known.

The summer heat meant that Luka needed some extra time to tune the guitar, but he did it with such a practiced hand that Marinette couldn’t help but be impressed, even after all these years of knowing him. With one last strum, he was ready, and already she felt it soothing the pit of her heart. “All right,” he murmured. “Here goes.”

She didn’t know whether to close her eyes and let the music flow through her, or keep her eyes open and watch it come to life in him instead. The song, low and easygoing, made the choice for her, calmed her into a half-lidded lull and slowed her hand. She heard rain in how he played, the patter of it against skylights and window panes, the rumble of a summer evening thunderstorm in the low tones. She heard it as much as she felt it in her heart. And even though her gaze caught on the way his fingers danced along the fretboard, and the way he picked at those strings, she lingered on his face much more. How he didn’t even have to look at his own instrument to know so intimately how it worked. How he chewed on his lip, so focused, that it’d probably be swollen and red by the time he was done. Maybe most importantly, how deep the circles and lines under his eyes ran into his skin.

He hadn’t been running himself ragged for work.

He’d been running himself ragged for her.

When Luka finished, soft and slow, he had a smile on his face that so easily matched his own music—that so easily disappeared when he met her eyes. “Marinette,” he said, looking frozen. “You’re crying.”

She hadn’t realized it until then, but now that he’d said something she could feel her own tears, heavy and trickling down her cheeks. Hastily, she rubbed them away with the sleeve of her sweater. “Sorry,” she whispered. “It was just… really beautiful, I don’t know what to say. It made me want to hear it all the time. It made me want to…”

To stay in Paris a little longer.

To say all the things she should have said months ago. Maybe years ago.

To hold his hand, and sit where his guitar sits, and let him wipe the tears away, and swallow up all the times he’d told her he wanted to play music that sounded just like her, and—

“Marinette?”

She shook her head and swallowed hard. Sat up straight, and moved to sit in front of him, until their bare knees bumped together in the night. She could reach for his hand, but she didn’t. “Can you play it again?”

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #ml writer zine #y'all i was so excited when i got to write this #so i hope you get to enjoy it too

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inkjackets · 3 years

Text

Shattered Sunshine

This piece was written for the @mlwriterzine

I was so grateful to be part of such a fantastic zine with so many amazing writers! (Do check out the works by everyone else, they’re all so good!!) Also big thanks to the mods for all their hard work in making honestly such a beautiful zine.

AO3

Paris glistened under the glorious summer sun; the skies shimmered blue overhead. Yet Marinette felt only ice swirl in her gut as she and Alya reached the top of the mountain.

She placed her basket down with a thump and inhaled the summer air, attempting to alleviate her anxiety. But it was hot and stifling and burned through her lungs, only succeeding in magnifying her emotions.

She brushed her fringe back. “I hate summer,” she muttered, glancing at her friend. With her short-shorts, loose buttoned shirt, and hair swept into a high ponytail, Alya Césaire looked the epitome of cool.

“No, you don’t,” Alya said, not unkindly, as she unravelled the picnic blanket. “You’re just nervous.” Marinette bit her lip and took the sides, helping her friend lie it flat. “Though I don’t know why,” Alya continued as they both crawled onto the rug, “I thought you’d be excited to see our ray of sunshine again.”

Marinette averted her gaze. Sunshine, sunshine, Paris’s perfect ray of sunshine. Yet the thought of him made her turn cold.

She grabbed the basket and unloaded the food while Alya laid the drinks on the blanket, but she tensed when she opened the box of Dupain-Cheng pastries, full of croissants and cookies …

And passionfruit macarons.

“It’s been five years, Alya,” Marinette said quietly. “What if everything’s changed?”

Alya cocked her head to the side. “Don’t you hope it has?”

Marinette clenched the box tight. Apprehension curled in her stomach and fear clawed its way through her as she gazed over Paris sprawled out far beneath them: iron rooftops gleaming; the Seine glittering; Sacré-Cœur shining like a beacon on the horizon; and backdrop to it all, the brilliant sun. Sweat trickled slowly down her back.

Nino’s distinct voice hit her ears followed by Adrien’s unmistakable laugh. Sickness and trepidation surged within her. She looked at Alya with panic, but her friend had already jumped up to greet the boys. Marinette scrambled to her feet and stared wide-eyed at Adrien—currently enveloping Alya in a hug. They broke apart. He turned to her. Her heart pounded.

For, in his white shirt, with that smile, and his eyes golden-green, Adrien Agreste was breathtaking.

“Hey,” he said, giving a small smile and a wave.

Marinette went to wave back, but she realised she was still holding the box of pastries. She frowned at herself. Why was it still in her hands?

“H-hey,” she then managed to get out.

They both stared at each other, unsure of how to proceed. He looked down at the box she was holding.

“Are those passionfruit macarons?” Adrien asked, wide-eyed.

“Uh, yeah,” she thrust the box forward. “Want one?”

His eyes lit up. Marinette’s heart warmed, and then it sank. She didn’t want to feel for him.

Adrien took a macaron, bit into it, and moaned. “God, I’ve missed your bakery.”

Marinette internally scowled at the heat that rose in her cheeks.

“Dudes!” Nino leapt in and wrapped his arms around them both, pulling them in so close they almost banged heads.

“Smile!” Alya grinned, readying her phone for a group selfie.

Adrien laughed, and he and Nino both pulled a stupid face. Marinette forced herself to smile. Alya snapped the picture.

“It’s been too long since the four of us have been together,” Alya said, grinning up at them all as Nino released her and Adrien.

Marinette felt Adrien’s eyes on her. She swallowed and glanced at him, not wanting those green eyes to make her heart flutter as it did. He gave a hesitant smile. She stared back. She didn’t smile.

“Dude! Are those Dupain-Cheng pastries?” Nino cried, ripping the box from her hands.

Marinette tore her eyes from Adrien and grinned. “Baked fresh this morning!”

Nino sat down and shoved a croissant into his mouth. “Ermagoh, oh goo!” he exclaimed, mouth overflowing with pastry. They all laughed and settled around him.

But while the other’s dove into the picnic and conversation, Marinette barely ate a thing and simply let the conversation wash over her.

She plucked blades of grass as the blazing sun burned her neck, and the start of a headache began pounding behind her eyes. And every time Adrien spoke, the chill in her stomach spread, worming its snaky tendrils right through her.

Yet, she couldn’t help but stare at him.

For he looked good—healthy even—relaxed and at ease. His smile was wide, and laugh loud, and hair more rugged than it used to be, lying somewhere between how he’d worn it at school, and how it’d been styled as his alter-ego, Chat Noir. A smile rose on her face; it suited him. However, with each flicker of his eyes and each smile that stretched just a little too wide, she could see his facade was cracking.

Because something was off.

Of course it was.

A part of her was desperate to comfort him and tell him everything was all right. But instead, she grabbed a can of Sprite and rolled it in her hands, squashing that part of her down. For there was a wall between her and Adrien. A wall she didn’t know how to—no. A wall she didn’t know she even wanted to break.

She spun the can faster.

“So what have you been up to, Marinette?”

Marinette tensed as those green eyes turned to her.

“I went to fashion school,” she said, simple and quiet.

“I always knew you would,” Adrien said, and Marinette’s heart fluttered at his soft smile. “How was it?”

She clenched the can of Sprite, desperate to hide her shaking hands.

“It was really good! I learnt so much.” She forced herself to smile.

Adrien’s smile faltered.

And Marinette wanted to laugh at the bitterness thrumming through her. Even after all these years, he could see right through her.

“Hey, did Alya tell you she’s got an internship with Le Monde ?” she then said quickly.

Pain flashed behind Adrien’s eyes, so quick she barely saw it. “No?” He turned to Alya, incredulous. “That’s amazing!”

Marinette scowled at the Sprite can and flipped it in her hands, pointedly ignoring Alya and Nino’s questioning glances. Unease gnawed at her insides; tears burned the back of her eyes. She couldn’t do this.

Seeing him again had been a mistake.

With a burst of anger, she ripped the can open, intending to take a huge gulp to drown the bitter taste in her mouth. However, froth exploded from the top, fizzing everywhere. She yelped, threw the can in her panic, and splashed it all over Alya.

There was a moment of stunned silence as Alya took in what had happened, gazing down at her sticky, sodden clothes. She looked up; Marinette squeaked.

“I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, hands at her mouth, “I didn’t realise it was shaken and it took me by surprise andIdidn’tmeantothrowitonyouohmygosh! I’m so sor—” She froze when her friend’s lip curled.

“Nino!” Alya said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Got you, babe.”

Marinette squealed and tried to scrabble out the way as Nino went to tip an entire bottle of water over her head. But she was whisked away at the last second and thrown to the side.

Marinette laughed, amazed she was still dry. But when she turned, she saw Nino, empty bottle in his hand, staring wide-eyed at a soaking wet Adrien.

“Ah, shit,” Nino swore under his breath.

For a moment, the only sound was the soft pat-pat of drips running off Adrien onto the blanket. Then he slowly raised his head with a jagged grin on his face.

Nino yelped and ran, but Adrien dove on top of him and forced water down his shirt. However, he’d only emptied half the bottle when Alya, with mock outrage, pulled him off her boyfriend. He laughed and tipped the rest of the bottle over her, quickly regretting it when she splashed him back in the face.

Marinette watched them from the sidelines, smiling at their fun, until suddenly all three rounded on her.

She shrieked with laughter as they showered her in water. But then, spying an opening, she dove and swiped a nearby bottle before spinning and aiming it threateningly at her attackers. Their smiles instantly dropped. Screaming and laughing, they scattered in all directions as Marinette enacted her revenge.

Once the last bottle had been emptied, they all flopped to the ground, chests heaving and scattered laughter ringing out.

Warmth and happiness thrummed through Marinette as she wrung out her dress and then leant back to gaze at the sky, smiling at the fluffy clouds that had decided to drift over. Her only regret was not drinking some water before it’d gotten weaponised; her headache was still there, and her throat was getting dry.

Adrien, too, leant back, placing his hands so close to hers they almost touched. He then rolled his head back and gazed at her with his soft, lazy smile.

Her heart clenched. Then, ever so slowly, she relaxed her shoulders and returned his smile with a soft one of her own. Adrien sucked in his breath; his eyes shone with hope. And Marinette’s breath caught in her throat as the tension began to evaporate between them, disappearing up into the clouds like the water.

“I’ve missed this,” Nino said. “Just the four of us, like old times.”

Adrien froze. Marinette stiffened. The tension came crashing back. She pulled her hand away from his and curled in on herself, cold seeping under her skin despite the heat.

Alya flopped onto her back. “You know what I miss?” she said, reaching for the sky, “Ladybug and Chat Noir.” Marinette tensed. “Like after Gabriel got put away—which I’m so sorry about, Adrien—they just vanished. Poof! Right into thin air.” Her fingers trailed the sky. “Like what happened to them? Where are they now? What are they doing?” Marinette felt Adrien’s gaze on her, but when she looked at him, he was staring with glazed eyes at the grass. Alya’s hand flopped to the ground. “I hope they’re okay.”

Regret simmered within Marinette as Adrien slowly raised his eyes to meet her’s, pain shining so clear it pierced her heart.

“I hope so too,” he said quietly.

Marinette clenched her jaw. She turned away. She closed her eyes and tried not to grimace, fighting the tears that stung her eyelids.

For she wanted to be okay. She wanted them both to be okay. She opened her eyes and slowly exhaled. But they weren’t.

“Ice-cream!” Alya suddenly exclaimed making Marinette jump. “I want ice-cream! Nino, come with!” She leapt to her feet and tugged her yelping boyfriend.

Panic flared in Marinette’s gut. “Wait, Alya, no!” She didn’t want to be left with Adrien.

Alya swooped in. “You need to fix whatever this is,” she hissed in her ear, glancing at Adrien, before pulling back and running off with Nino in tow.

“W-wait!” Marinette spluttered. “No, Alya!”

Alya gave a wave of her hand as Nino glanced back and shrugged helplessly.

“They didn’t even take our order,” Adrien noted, eyes glittering with amusement as he watched their friends disappear before turning to her. Marinette stared. His grin widened. And that image of Chat Noir slammed into her mind; of that smile he used to give her, high up on the Eiffel tower …

She scrambled to her feet and clutched her middle; confusion and nausea swirled within her.

“Marinette?”

She gritted her teeth and turned away as Adrien got up and stepped towards her.

“M’Lady?” he asked softly, reaching out.

“Don’t call me that!” she hissed. Adrien flinched and snatched his hand back. “You lost that privilege the day you left.”

She wrapped her arms around herself as Adrien tightened his jaw.

“We were seventeen, Marinette. I had no choice as to whether I could stay or not.”

Rage blossomed within her. “You could have told me!” she yelled, whipping around, hair flying. “You could’ve at least said goodbye! Instead, I got told by Nino, by Nino , that you’d gone and moved to London!”

Adrien drew in on himself and averted his eyes.

“You abandoned Paris,” she continued, a lump rising in her throat. “You abandoned me .” Her voice cracked. She took a shuddering breath to quell her emotions, but the air was so hot that it stirred them instead.

Adrien swallowed and shook his head as pain rose on his face. “It was all too much,” he whispered, voice hoarse with memories. “You were Ladybug. And Dad was—” he blanched, “and then Mum …”

Guilt stabbed Marinette in the gut as Adrien’s eyes glazed over; she didn’t want to send him back to those days.

“I thought of you every day,” Adrien said quietly.

“Then why didn’t you call?”

“I—” Adrien choked, “I didn’t know what to say.”

Marinette’s blood boiled, her headache pounded between her eyes. “Anything!” she yelled, her throat raw and burning. “Anything would have been better than five years of silence!”

“I know! I KNOW!” Adrien cried with frustration. “Okay, I KNOW , but I couldn’t .”

“What the hell does that mean?” Her hands shook and vision blurred.

He grabbed his hair in distress. “I just couldn’t , alright!”

“No!” she screamed, “ I don’t understa —”

“HE WAS HAWK MOTH !” Adrien roared, stunning her into silence. “MY FATHER WAS A TERRORIST WHO TRIED TO BRING BACK MY MOTHER AND DESTROYED ALL OF PARIS TO DO SO!”

Adrien’s chest heaved, tears shimmered in his eyes. And Marinette stared, her own chest growing tight.

“I know,” she whispered, voice hoarse and aching, “That’s why I—”

“I lived with him, Marinette!” His words glimmered with pain. “I lived with him my whole life, and I had no idea. I should’ve known!” Hysteria rose within him. “I should’ve known !”

“No, that’s not …” She tried to speak, but her tongue was heavy in her mouth. “You can’t—” Her breathing quickened.

“He hurt you!” Adrien continued, voice cracking with pain, “He hurt everyone. I hurt everyone.” He shook his head and covered his mouth, tears spilling down his cheeks as those dark days returned with a vengeance. “How could you love me after that?”

Marinette blinked back the blinding sun; her vision started swimming. “Adrien, you’re—” she faltered, “you were my partner.” Tears burned her eyes, but they wouldn’t spill over. “My best friend!” She felt faint and lightheaded. “You know I—” She shook her head. “I—” She tried to take a step forward, but the world spun around her.

Adrien lowered his hands, eyes wide with panic. “Marinette?” His voice sounded distant.

She clutched her head as her headache exploded. Adrien’s mouth moved, but no sound hit her ears.

She staggered. The world tilted.

Everything went black.

~~~

Marinette groaned. She opened her eyes, squinting at the sunshine before focusing on the two pairs of golden-brown eyes above her.

“Oh, thank God. You okay, girl?”

Marinette grimaced and pushed herself to a sitting position, leaning back against the tree she was under.

“What happened?” she said, voice dry and raspy.

“You fainted, dude,” Nino said, “But you were out for like a minute, max.”

“We got back just in time to see Adrien catch you. Then he carried you here, to the shade.” Alya gave her a small smile.

Marinette looked around as Nino and Alya’s words sank in, eyeing the four ice-creams lying face down in the dirt. She then looked back at the brown eyes in front of her and realised what was missing.

“Where’s Adrien?” she cried, panic flaring within her. She tried to get to her feet, pushing back against the hands that were stopping her.

“Chill, Mari! He’s gone to get water. We used all ours in the—” Alya cut off as Adrien appeared behind her. Wide-eyed and flushed with a bottle of water in each hand, he’d clearly run as fast he could.

His face broke with relief when he saw she was awake. He swiftly knelt, uncapped a bottle, and handed it to her.

Marinette sipped, and then gulped down the water, sighing as her headache immediately lessened and energy flooded through her.

“How are you feeling?” Adrien asked softly as she finished the bottle.

“Much better. Thank you,” she replied, just as quiet, and looked up.

The moment hung between them, unresolved emotions bled into the tension, but those green eyes remained ever constant.

In the corner of her vision, she saw Alya tug Nino’s hand—“Come on, let’s give them space.”—and lead him away.

But Marinette just stared into those eyes.

A breeze ruffled Adrien’s shirt. Hairs tickled the back of her neck. Then suddenly the tears fell, thick and fast, down her cheeks; her emotions were finally able to spill over.

Sobs wracked her body. Her breath hitched in her throat. And when Adrien wrapped his arms around her, she wailed into his chest. His own tears dripped onto her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” Adrien whispered into her hair, and it was like a shot to the chest.

She pulled back, hands still on his chest. “Don’t say that.” Her voice was deathly quiet. “You don’t—you can’t—” She swallowed the guilt clawing her throat. “A-After Nino told me …” she trailed off, filling with regret, “I-I should have called you too.” Adrien sucked in his breath. “I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked.

Adrien shook his head as fresh tears streamed down his face.

She reached out her hand and gently placed it on his cheek. He leant into her and closed his eyes, and her heart warmed as she gently wiped away his tears with her thumb.

Adrien took her hand in his own and held it in his lap; tingles shot up her spine at his soft, ginger touch.

“What do you say we start again?” he said, his voice quiet. His eyes pierced hers and a small smile tugged at his lips.

Marinette stopped breathing. Tears spilled down her cheeks. She shifted her hand in his grip so her fingers entwined his.

“I’d like that,” she whispered.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #adrinette #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #ml fic #angst #ml angst #angst with a happy ending #my writing #shattered sunshine #ml writer zine #mlwriterzine

95 notes · View notes

ao3bronte · 3 years

Text

Transience

This is my contribution to @mlwriterzine Once Upon A Season! It was a pleasure to be a part of the project and the finished piece (a gorgeous 260 page paperback) was a treat!

Also on AO3!

Adrien is and always has been a young man of many talents. He excels in sports, outshines in academics, and loves tinkering with the vintage 1962 Ferrari he keeps in a secret garage just up the road from their belle-époque penthouse apartment in Paris. So honestly, Marinette shouldn’t have been surprised upon finding a sailing yacht waiting for them in the luxurious marina of Saint-Tropez.

“Um...” Gobsmacked, Marinette slips off her sandals and follows him over the exquisitely varnished toerail, “... since when do you know how to drive a boat?”

“Since I was eight.” Adrien shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “Mère loved to come down every year to watch the annual regatta. She even sailed in a few of them herself.”

“Wow.” Marinette’s eyes grow wide as she gawks at the opulent 16 metre sailboat. She’d never dreamt of setting foot on one, let alone cruising on one through the French Riviera for a week on her honeymoon. Elated, Marinette can hardly keep the stars from her eyes as she drops her shoulder bag and scampers across the deck until she reaches the front of the vessel, splaying her arms out wide.

“I’m the king of the world!” she cries, laughing as Adrien runs along behind her and plants his hands on her hips, holding her steady.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She grins into the salty breeze coming off the Mediterranean and steps onto the first rung of the railings. “Just don’t let me fall overboard.”

“You’ll be flying soon, M’Lady.” Adrien pulls her against his chest and presses a kiss to her temple, his stubble scratching softly against her skin. “But first, we have some fenders to collect.”

Marinette blinks. “Uh... what exactly is a fender?”

Adrien’s indulgent laughter echoes in the headsail. “You’re about to get a crash course in Sailing 101, Buginette. Are you ready to be my first mate?”

Marinette spins around in his arms and bops him on the nose. “Teach me everything you know, Captain Kitty.”

Adrien hums, tipping her chin upwards to kiss her lips. “I like the sound of that.”

After a few minutes of acquiring her sea legs, Marinette and Adrien Dupain-Cheng are off amidst the serene waves of la Côte d'Azur for a honeymoon trip of a lifetime. Marinette can’t keep her eyes off of the hill-perched towns dotting the coastline, sun-drenched and prismatic against the turquoise waters of the Med. Beside her, Adrien keeps their vessel steady, his seasoned gaze trained on the horizon as they pull out of port and soar northwards, the wind at their every beck and call.

For centuries, every Parisian worth their salt flocked to the French Riviera to soak up the Mediterranean sun and the Agreste’s were no different, once upon a time. Adrien’s childhood memories aboard the Éphémère remind him of bouillabaisse and happier days spent scampering across deck pretending to be a pirate in search of buried treasure. It’s something he hopes he can share with his own children one day, especially now that he and his wife no longer have to spend every spare moment of their lives fighting Hawk Moth.

Sensing her husband’s pensive mood, Marinette snuggles deeper into his side as the afternoon sun begins to dip towards the horizon. She doesn’t need Adrien to assure her that their evenings onboard together will be positively serene with nothing but the seabirds to obstruct the sunset that will surely steal their breath away. He kisses her forehead and hugs her close, his guiding light within the storm that had been brewing since his childhood. After all those years of rough seas at the hands of his father, things were finally settling into an even keel.

Marinette learns the ins and outs of sailing quickly, securing lines and watching for traffic as they navigate along the seaboard of Saint Raphaël . Jibs and boons soon become a part of her vocabulary, and once they've successfully moored in the neighbouring marina, Marinette feels like she's run a marathon.

"That was exhausting," she groans, slumping into the cushions on the sundeck.

Adrien beams, having barely broken a sweat. "Come on; I'll make it worth your while."

Hauling her back onto her feet, Adrien leads her down into the main cabin. All clean lines and warm teak, Marinette leaves her duffel bag on the sofa and explores the spacious interior with curious eyes, carding her fingers through the decades old fashion magazines stacked in a woven basket resting on the floor. He leaves her to explore and hauls their luggage and a cooler down the ladder, filling the marine fridge with fixings for their first dinner outside of Paris. It's peaceful, with nothing but the sounds of the waves to keep them company.

The lights are warm and low in their galley kitchen, a cozy escape from the endless vistas of rocky crags and pastel-orange buildings whose narrow streets spill into the sea. Their table is just large enough for two wicker placemats and a bottle of Mouton-Cadet; old vases filled with seaglass and shells rest on every side table, their edges wrapped in nautical rope. By the counter, Marinette grates a snowy pile of Pecorino cheese over a mound of steaming spaghetti while beside her Adrien grinds fresh pepper into a ramekin, his stomach growling after an afternoon spent at sea. A comfortable silence ebbs and flows between them as the evening tide laps against the hull, drawing them towards the tangy, indulgent nest of cacio e pepe they made together.

Marinette wakes the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee and a deftly wrapped gift on the bedside table of their lavish master cabin. Slipping her bare legs across the silk sheets as she sits up, she opens her present and plucks one of her own Chat Noir inspired creations from the tissue paper along with a note attached inside.

Care to go for a dip with me, M’Lady?

Marinette snorts and ties the black and neon green bikini up at the neck and hips, leaving a few very tantalizing strings to pull should Adrien let his feline instincts get the best of him. Goodness knows he wouldn’t be able to resist himself, what with the way he could hardly keep his hands off of her last night while they were trying to find a deck of cards in the saloon. She glances at herself in the mirror to wipe the sleep from her eyes and quickly fastens her hair into a loose ponytail, ready to tease her husband senseless.

“Welcome to Cannes!” he announces as she emerges from below deck, mesmerized by the morning sun illuminating his blond hair like a halo. He’s gorgeous in every sense of the word, thoughtful and generous and unfailingly kind, and even in his darkest moments, he never ceases to steal her breath away.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, hooking her fingers into the belt loops of his chinos, “but not as beautiful as you.”

A ruddy flush blooms across his cheeks, a constant victim to her soft-spoken praises. “I can hardly compete against you, Buginette, especially when you’re wearing that.”

“I don’t know...” She grazes her fingernails against his bare chest and smirks as the familiar rumble in his sternum kicks into low gear. “I think the sun suits you.”

“Enough to consider moving down here for good?”

Marinette shrugs; keeping their lives rooted in Paris has been a point of contention between them since the arrest of his father. “Not permanently, no, but I wouldn’t protest if we vacationed here more often.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you overwork yourself,” he responds, closing his eyes as she continues to explore the chiseled planes of his abs. She’s always been gifted when it comes to distractions and this morning is no different; like wayfaring on a starless night, she’s always been the beacon to guide his way. “Now, I thought I invited you up here for a swim?”

“You did.” Marinette steps back, giving him the merciful reprieve he’d needed to calm his beating heart. “And it is kind of hot up here.”

His grip on the ship’s wheel tightens. “No thanks to you.”

“Easy there, Captain Kitty.” Marinette smirks, flicking the golden bell sewn to the bridge of her bikini top. “Race you!”

“Hey!” he gapes at her, scandalized. “I still have to drop anchor!”

Marinette giggles as she zooms past him, leaping off the back of the boat with delight. “Last one in the water has to make breakfast!”

Meandering through the Medieval streets of the old city, Marinette and Adrien pause to catch a glimpse of Villefranche-sur-Mer ’s idyllic harbour. There’s an enormous cruise ship dominating the horizon and Adrien is thankful that they’d brought their disguises in tow. No one has recognized either of them with the way they’ve camouflaged themselves in their floppy beach hats and oversized sunglasses.

Marinette spends the afternoon popping in and out of boutiques with turquoise shutters, snapping photos and picking up little trinkets along the way. They stop for lunch at a peaches-and-cream couloured bistro nestled against the water’s edge, its open windows basking the sunlit stone walls with salt-scented air. Adrien joyfully devours his meal, a simply grilled loup de mer with fennel and lemon, while Marinette chatters over a bowl of Niçoise octopus salad that she had been eager to try since spotting it on the chalkboard menu outside.

“It feels weird, not having them around.” Adrien balances a piece of julienned fennel between the tines of his fork. “It’s the first time I’ve taken my ring off in ten years.”

“I promise you, Tikki and Plagg are appreciating their vacation too,” Marinette assures him around a mouthful of cherry tomatoes. “They deserve a break after what happened. We both do.”

Adrien nods and is quiet for a while.

“When I was a kid, I used to watch the cliff divers jump into that cove,” Adrien mentions as they sail by, pointing towards a sharp craig jutting from the coastline. “I always wanted to do it myself. Maybe I will.”

“You’re free to do whatever you want now.” Marinette smiles into the wind, the skirt of her sundress billowing up passed her thighs. “So chart us a course, Captain Kitty. Where are we going next?”

“First, we’re stopping in Èze .” Adrien brushes his bangs from his eyes and relishes in being at the helm of transience. “There are galleries all over the place that I know you’ll love. And we have a dinner reservation. I thought you’d appreciate the view.”

Marinette lowers her sunglasses. “I like the view here just fine, thanks.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” Adrien smirks and snags her by the hips, easily hauling her up onto the dash of the cockpit. She squeals as he savours the salt on her skin as he plants a kiss on her knee in mock apology. “There. Now I have you right where I want you.”

She kicks and he dodges easily, catching her foot with lightning fast reflexes born from being merged with the Black Cat Miraculous for so long. It’s a familiar song and dance between them, a playful contest sparking in their eyes as he peppers kisses along her ankle, her calf, anywhere he can reach. He stops just shy of the constellation of freckles at the hem of her dress and makes eye contact through his lashes, flashing her a mischievous Chat Noir smile. “I wonder if you’re ... ticklish?

Marinette shrieks as Adrien starts tickling her toes, running his fingernails up and down the arches of her feet. She’s tortured him a thousand times by attacking his sides when he least expected it so he figures it’s about time he seeks revenge. “Adrien! Stop!”

He doesn’t, of course, and chooses to memorize each and every facet of her beauty instead; her smile and her pained laughter, her marks and scars from the final battle only a month before their wedding day. “I’m never letting you go!”

“You’re going to— stop it! —have to if we ever want to get to Èze .” Marinette manages to wrench her ankle free and hops down from the ledge, landing easily in his outstretched arms. “That is, unless you want to crash.”

“If we shipwreck,” Adrien bends low and devours that little spot on her neck that makes her weak every time, “promise me you won’t hog the whole door?”

Marinette bursts into laughter. “Are we seriously going to have this debate again?”

“I’m serious! Jack could have totally fit on that— mmpf! ”

Cupping his cheeks, Marinette hurriedly kisses away the space between them and silences his long-winded debate once and for all. It’s an effective way to shut him up—all things considered—and an astonished gasp spirals from his lips as she hoists herself up his body and brackets his hips with her thighs. She claims him, covets him, her tongue sweeping across his lower lip, and he’s helpless to her siren’s song as he braces her against the cockpit’s controls and clings to her like a drowning man.

“Alright, you win.” Breathless and lightheaded, Adrien pulls back after a while just to soak her in, to remind himself that he’s married to the most beautiful woman in the world. He gazes in awe as she recovers, her flushed cheeks and parted lips swollen and wet. Adrien is drawn back in like a magnet, kissing her with every intention of stealing her breath away.

She buries her hands in his hair, her nails gently scraping against his scalp as Adrien all but melts in her embrace, groaning with pleasure. He deepens their kiss, and Adrien feels drunk with his desire to claim, their passion speaking more than words between them ever could. Every gasp and moan conveys their everlasting partnership and the terror of nearly losing one another in the whirlwind. Shell-shocked and injured, they still held their wedding ceremony, even as the fallout had tugged at their ankles, gossip and chaos pooling around their feet. Together, they’d inherited an empire he’d never wanted in the first place, thrusting them into a world unprepared and raw with nothing but each other as a tether in the storm.

“I love you,” she murmurs against his lips, her heartbeat hammering a tattoo inside her chest. He can feel it against his own, fast and strong and wonderfully alive. “We’ll get through this; together.”

Later, as they draw nearer to the charming port town of Èze, Adrien draws her close and hopes she never leaves his side. “Where to, Miss?”

Marinette smiles. “To the stars.”

Nothing comes so abundantly as time when you’re sailing through the seemingly endless vistas of the Med. Their honeymoon stretches on for longer than a week simply because it can; he owns their floating home-away-from-home and she’s working remotely, snagging a Wi-Fi signal whenever they’re in port.

Neither of them seem to be in any hurry to leave the solace of the French Riviera behind. It’s where he’s feasted on fresh seafood and felt better than he has in weeks. It’s where they’ve kissed and made love under the stars a thousand times over. It’s where he’s confessed his doubts about living in Paris and where she’s supported his struggle to leave his father behind.

They’re moored in Antibes tonight and the skies are awash in vibrant pinks and apricot. He drizzles balsamic vinegar onto a shimmering pond of Italian olive oil; she wears hair pins with flowers on them and pours wine like an expert, heedless to the way he’s staring at her like she’s his only source of air.

“I love you,” he whispers. It’s enough.

#miraculous ladybug #adrinette #ml fic #miraculous fanfic #ml writer zine

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carpisuns · 3 years

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Rating: G

Word count: 3k

Summary: It's Halloween, and the class is on a trip to Disneyland Paris. With luck on her side—and a bit of Disney magic—hopefully Marinette will finally be able to tell Adrien how she feels. But not before she makes a fool of herself, of course.

A/N: This piece was written for the Miraculous Writer Zine: Once Upon a Season! Big thanks to the @mlwriterzine team for letting me be a part of this project. And thank you to all who purchased the zine—we were able to donate $2,385 to AO3!

The zine includes 24 stories (6 per season). This one is from the fall collection. Hope you enjoy <3

it’s a small world after all

Marinette breathed in the crisp October air. The crowd around her buzzed with anticipation. Behind her, Alya held up her phone to film.

“Hey, bugheads! I’m here with my class at Disneyland Paris. No Ladybug here today, but maybe we’ll see Mickey Mouse! And since the park will be all decked out for Halloween, I bet we’ll see more than one chat noir ...”

A tingle ran through Marinette. They were about forty kilometers from Paris, but she didn’t like being away from the city when Hawk Moth was still at large. She had planned to stay home, but Tikki persuaded her to go.

“Even Ladybug needs a break!” she had said. And she was right. With the stress of being the Guardian on top of everything else, Marinette hadn’t had a chance to relax in months. Besides, with the horse miraculous, she could be back at the first sign of trouble.

“So.” Alya draped an arm over Marinette’s shoulders. “You ready to make some Disney magic happen between you and Adrien?”

Read the rest on AO3

#miraculous #ml writer zine #miraculous ladybug #ml #ml fics #adrienette #marichat #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #mlwz #my fics #mine

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soundofez · 3 years

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written for @mlwriterzine, beta’d by the wonderful @128andfalling and @powerdragonmoon. thanks to the entire team for an absolutely fantastic zine!

[ read on ao3 ] [ or continue below ]

The afternoon sun beats hot on Cat Noir's head as he leaps across the Parisian rooftops. It's just the right sort of summer day for ice cream, or a trip to the beach, or a long nap. Ladybug herself is asleep, snoring gently against Cat Noir's shoulder.

Some tiny part of him is quietly enjoying the feeling. The rest of him is panicking, because there is an akuma on the loose and a sentimonster on his heels.

"Stay away!" he yelps, clutching Ladybug closer to his chest as he flees.

"Lord, what fools these mortals be!" the sentimonster replies. "Black cat, I wish but to parley."

"No!" Cat Noir drops into an alley and takes several sharp corners, then knocks a manhole cover spinning to dive into the sewers.

He turns another couple of corners, the back of his neck still prickling with nerves and sticky sweat. The sewers are marginally cooler, shielded as they are from the summer sun, but they are also stiflingly humid.

And, of course, they stink.

Cat Noir keeps running for a few minutes. When the sentimonster doesn't appear, he slows to a jog. "It's amazing you're still asleep, you know," he tells Ladybug as he nudges her mouth shut. "I regret coming down here. You're going to regret it, too."

"These shadows do offend," someone agrees in a mocking voice. A grinning green face melts out of the brickwork at Cat Noir's feet.

Cat Noir screams and breaks into a run again, leaving the sentimonster behind.

"Nor perfect is your face!" it calls after him. "But do attend; pray quit the race?"

Adrien keeps running, of course, ignoring the throbbing dread in his ears, the rising panic in his chest. He's been through these tunnels countless times, trying over and over to keep his Lady safe—but that had been as Aspik, not as Cat Noir, and the sewers had been chilly with spring, not humid with summer.

At least he had not been alone, though.

"Poor cat who loves the ladybug!" the sentimonster calls. Its voice echoes through the sweltering tunnels.

"Mind your own business," Cat Noir snaps. Yes, he loves her. No, she doesn't love him back. He knows all this already, and he's not about to let a sentimonster throw that in his face.

"About that." The grinning green face appears in front of him again, and he nearly trips trying to stop his momentum. He's still catching his footing when it says, "You know very well my drug."

It takes him a moment to understand what the sentimonster is suggesting. The akuma Oberon put people to sleep; the sentimonster woke them up, only to have them fall in love with the first people they set eyes on. He hadn't had the chance to think of its power beyond the chaos it was creating in Paris, but now that he has … Adrien's breath catches despite himself. After all this time, the idea that Ladybug might love him still catches his heart and sets it aflame. "No," he tries to say, but the word comes out as a choked whisper.

The sentimonster's grin vanishes as the rest of its body appears. It shrugs carelessly, but there is a deadly intent in its golden eyes. "Then fate decrees: she shall love me."

Cat Noir snarls, a sound that rumbles from his chest and tears out of his throat with more ferocity than he'd known he had. "No!" He clutches Ladybug's sleeping form closer, turning her head into his shoulder to guard her eyes as he backs away from the sentimonster.

"Those things do best please me that befall preposterously," it muses. "For her to love me is less silly than for her to love thee. Here is the treaty: I wake her, she loves you, you free me, and the butterfly sees defeat."

Adrien stares. "Free you?" he repeats.

The sentimonster ignores the question. Instead, he sticks out a small hand to shake. "Have we a pact, then?"

Adrien eyes the hand warily. "Why help us? How are you helping us? Without the object that made you—"

"My master set me on your path." The sentimonster flutters in an impatient circle around Cat Noir's head. He's small, the size of a child, with pointed ears and gossamer gold wings: a fairy. "And here we chat!" He nods to himself, a sharp, proud motion. "But my master was mistaken: he spoke of who, not how or when." He winks. "Have we a pact, Monsieur Black Cat?"

"But how—?"

The sentimonster's grin vanishes again, his voice turning from sunlight to storm without warning. "I said, have we a pact?"

Adrien scowls. "I won't let you hurt her."

"I shan't," the sentimonster says, rolling his eyes. He sticks out a hand. "My hand shall not bring the ladybug alarm. Here is the charm: I wake her, she loves you, you free me, and the butterfly sees his plans disarmed."

Adrien isn't completely sure what possesses him to take the sentimonster's hand. Still, he only tries to snatch his hand back when he feels a tingle of magic run up his spine. "What was that?" he demands.

"A pact is a pact," the sentimonster intones. "My hand shall not bring the ladybug alarm. Here is the charm: I wake her, she loves you, you free me, and the butterfly sees his plans disarmed." The mocking tone has left his voice: he sounds like he is reciting an oath. "The peafowl, too," he adds, in his own voice again, as he releases Cat Noir's hand. He extends the same hand toward Ladybug. "Now, my cue?"

Adrien doesn't have time to refuse: the sentimonster's hand is already resting on Ladybug's mask, green skin pressed over red fabric. She stirs immediately, and the sentimonster vanishes from sight. "My work is through," says the mocking voice. Adrien starts to look for him, but Ladybug shudders in his arms and draws his eye, as helplessly attracted as Plagg to cheese. Ladybug will always be his first priority.

Her eyes snap open, clear and sharp—Adrien wonders, hopes, dreads that maybe the sentimonster's magic has failed—for just an instant before a blush lights her cheeks, as if her mask is staining them red. Her hand lifts to his cheek. "You're so beautiful," she says softly.

He trembles at her touch, at how tender it is, how adoring. So this is Ladybug in love, he thinks.

"I've been blind," she murmurs. "You're so much more beautiful than he is."

His heart stops, stutters, threatens to choke him with jealousy and guilt. What is he doing? What has he done? He swallows to put his heart back in his chest. "Who is he?" he whispers, because he has to know.

Ladybug leans up. "My sweet Cat Noir," she whispers against his lips, "he doesn't matter anymore."

She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, chaste yet intimate, as scorching as the summer sun. He turns toward it despite the gnawing at his heart.

He doesn't matter anymore, he repeats to himself. Whoever he is, he doesn't matter. But he does matter, this mysterious other man—he must, to have held Ladybug's love for so long. Adrien aches to know what kind of person he is, to know why Ladybug has loved him so steadily. He wants to be that person. He wants to be better. His Lady deserves the best.

Ladybug kisses him, and it's everything he'd ever dreamed. He loses himself in the heat of her clinging lips and adoring hands and kisses her back.

His head feels light. He's forgetting to breathe. He breaks the kiss to press his forehead against hers, closes his eyes and sinks to his knees, shaking.

The dread is back and stronger than ever. Maybe it had never left, had instead brewed like a summer storm. It thunders now in his chest, overflows into his already-starved lungs, drowns him with oppressive shame. Why? Why should he be ashamed? Why, when he is so close to having his dreams come true, does he feel so upset?

He can't think. He doesn't want to think, not when Ladybug is trying to kiss him again. It would be so easy to let her, to throw away his reservations and lose himself in all of her, so he does.

There is applause. Adrien agrees. This is very applause-worthy.

Ladybug seems to disagree. At the second clap, she is already out of Cat Noir's arms and on her feet, yo-yo at the ready. "Who—You're the sentimonster!"

The sentimonster performs a flourishing bow, neatly dodging Ladybug's yo-yo as it whips over his head. "I am your humble servant Puck, good Ladybug."

"Cat Noir!" Ladybug cries, and he is on his feet, baton out, an automatic reaction to years of hearing her call for him.

"My hand shall not bring the ladybug alarm. Here is the charm: I wake her, she loves you, you free me, and the butterfly sees his plans disarmed," Puck recites, and Adrien feels that tingle run up his spine again.

"He's on our side, Ladybug," he blurts, and once the words are out he has to blink away the feeling of magical compulsion. "S-sort of," he adds.

Ladybug is scowling. "Then he's like … the other Ladybug?" She shakes her head. "But where is the object that made you? How are you doing this?"

Puck waves a dismissive hand. "Another time, another tale: I've not time to regale," he says. "Hark, instead, to come anon: the manner of defeat of Oberon."

He starts to explain, but after barely two sentences, Ladybug turns to Cat Noir. "If I do this," she says, and there's a new distress in her voice. "If I purify the akuma, I'll stop loving you, won't I? I'll hurt you."

Adrien feels like he's taken a Cataclysm to the gut. She's right—her Miraculous Ladybug will change her back, probably by wiping her memories. She'll go back to normal—or will she? She's so strikingly herself, even now looking farther ahead than Adrien had considered.

Maybe she'll still love him after, when Puck's magic is gone—no. He can't let himself think that. He can't let himself dream of their future after this fight. After today, she will go back to the way she was. She will stop loving him. She will stop loving him. He repeats that to himself until the pain in his heart subsides to a low throb.

Ladybug has already turned back to Puck. "I'm not purifying the akuma," she says.

Puck replies, ever-mocking, but Adrien doesn't hear the words. He breathes slowly, pulling painful words together. "You will," he finally says.

Ladybug's attention jerks back to him. "Cat Noir?"

Adrien drags a shaking breath through his lungs. "We're going to defeat Oberon," he says, "and you're going to purify the akuma."

Ladybug is silent for a long moment. "I don't understand," she says softly. "Don't you get it? I'll forget."

"But you'll do it," Adrien says, equally soft.

Ladybug shakes her head. "I won't—" She gasps. "You … don't love me."

Adrien shudders. He feels older than he is, his heart crumbling in his chest like ancient, sunbleached clothing. He feels like Aspik again, desperate and impatient and helpless. He feels like Mister Bug, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders and darkening his world. It would be easier for her to think that of him, wouldn't it? It would be easier to let her hate him, to think he's betrayed her, so that she could fight the akuma and forget without regrets …

Ladybug is still talking. "You never loved me, did you? It's been a … a joke, this whole time. I knew it, but I still—"

Adrien snaps. "I love you so much," he snarls, unable to bear the unkindness of her thoughts, unable to watch her love twist so easily into hate. "I love you so much I want to keep you like this forever! But I also—I love you for being a hero, Ladybug! For putting Paris first! I wish you wouldn't—I wish you could just be mine—but I'm just being selfish, I know it's better this way. I want to be strong for you, my brave and bold and brilliant Ladybug! I want you to choose me, and I can't have you like this because I'll always wonder if this is real or if it's just … magic."

"I'm still me!" she spits back, almost before he's finished talking. "I am choosing you! I remember everything! If it weren't for him, I could have loved you sooner! I would have loved you sooner! I know it!"

Her words are an unexpected balm on his aching heart. Adrien straightens, meets her eyes. "Then I'll wait," he says, suddenly calm.

"I don't want you to wait," Ladybug begins raggedly.

Adrien stops her with a finger on her lips. "I'll still love you," he promises. "I'll wait, my Lady, as long as it takes."

Ladybug is shaking her head. "I don't want you to wait," she repeats, desperate. "I don't want to hurt you. I want to love you back."

Adrien smiles. "My Lady," he says gently, "you already do. You love me now. You'll love me again."

Ladybug's eyes are bright with tears. "But what if I don't?" she whispers.

He shakes his head. "You will," he promises, kissing her forehead. Then he turns to Puck. "Tell us how to defeat Oberon."

***

The evening sun is sinking behind the horizon, painting the sky with brilliant reds and deep violets as Cat Noir leaps across the Parisian rooftops. It's a beautiful sight; he stops on a nice rooftop by the Seine to enjoy the view.

The long summer days means that it is actually quite late. Adrien should be getting ready for bed right now. Instead, Cat Noir is out on patrol.

He checks the Ladyblog. Sure enough, there's a picture of their last kiss, their final moment together before the Lucky Charm had set things back. He can still hear her last whispered words in his ear: "To remember me by."

He misses her already, his sweet Ladybug. He wants her back.

It frightens him, how easy it was to let her love him, how easy it was to ignore that she was under the sway of magic. Even now, the thought gnaws at him. Take her, it whispers. She won't mind. She'll be yours. You'll live happily ever after.

The sun has fully set, but the sky still remembers its glow. Even so, dusk carries an unseasonal chill that seeps into Cat Noir's bones.

He closes the Ladyblog and sits down. The roof tiles have kept the day's heat, and it chases away some of the cold. He lies back, soaking in the lingering warmth, and closes his eyes.

"The final hour has arrived," says a mocking voice. "Just say the word: I shall provide."

Adrien doesn't look for the sentimonster, but he opens his eyes to watch the darkening sky. "Never again," he says softly. "Not if I can help it."

"We were well met; this is good-bye."

Adrien speaks without quite knowing why. "Wait."

"How quickly did you change your mind!"

"Not that," Adrien says, annoyed. "Just … Will you be okay on your own? If Mayura finds you …"

Puck scoffs. "Would that she knew, perhaps she would try; I give grace to you, who played my demise." He sounds as mocking as ever, but Adrien thinks that there's honesty, too. "Still, caution is wise. I'll soon take my leave. I'll fly 'til I spy my true lord, the Fey King."

Adrien finally turns toward the fairy. "The Fey King?" he repeats, astonished.

Puck winks. "I go, I go; look how I go, swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow." He vanishes on the spot.

Adrien stares after him for a moment before returning his gaze to the still-darkening horizon. He stays there for a while longer, simply watching the sky.

Through a sea of stars, the moon rises full and yellow, reflecting the light of the fallen sun but none of its warmth. Adrien wonders at its brightness; wonders if it is false for the moon to borrow the light of the sun when it possesses none for itself.

The roof is cold. Cat Noir pulls himself to his feet and makes his way home, where he detransforms and burrows under his bed covers.

"Plagg," he whispers.

The kwami yawns. "Hmm?"

"Are fairies real?"

"Some of 'em, sure. His Majesty Oberon is an especially sanctimonious … fellow."

"So he's real? The 'Fey King' that Puck is looking for?"

Plagg yawns again. "Yup. But if he asks, don't say I told. He likes his secrecy."

"... Plagg?"

"Hm?"

"Ladybug does love me, doesn't she?"

Plagg doesn't reply.

"Plagg."

The kwami grumbles to himself. "Fine, yes, she loves you," he eventually replies, quick and dismissive. Plagg has always been evasive and uncomfortable regarding Adrien's more romantic tendencies. Most of the time, Adrien lets it slide.

Most of the time. "I'm serious, Plagg."

The little cat groans. "Of course you are. I don't get you humans! You have the cheese right under your nose, and you still turn away. It'll spoil if you leave it for so long."

"Cheese isn't the same thing as love," Adrien scolds, but Plagg's words burn doubt into his heart. "Besides," he adds, "it wasn't her." He says this to remind himself as much as to remind Plagg.

Plagg doesn't buy it. "She said so herself, didn't she? That she was still Ladybug."

Adrien hesitates. "Yes," he finally agrees.

"So why didn't you just take up that sentimonster's offer?"

Guilt brews in his chest again, flooding into this throat and drowning him. "It's wrong, Plagg."

"If you know that, then why are you still asking me?"

Adrien doesn't reply.

Plagg shakes his head pityingly. "Dumb kid," he says with sad affection, but he sounds almost admiring, too. "Let's stop with all this stupid 'love' stuff, already. Cheese is just better." He sighs longingly. "Did you see the moon tonight? All lovely and gold. What I would give for just a nibble! No, a lick!"

Adrien can't help but laugh. "The moon isn't made of cheese, Plagg."

"Lies and slander!"

When had he started grinning? He closes his eyes and lets the smile grow. "Good night, Plagg."

"No, not good night! Take back what you said about the moon! Adrien! … Adrien! You wretched little …! Don't think you've won this one, Adrien, we are going to talk about this tomorrow, and you will admit that the moon is made of cheese."

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, the sun will rise. Tomorrow, he will see Ladybug again.

Tonight, Adrien sleeps and dreams.

#miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #ml writer zine #fez scribbles #fez writes #catch me posting summer content in the middle of winter Weeks after everyone else OOPS #l-listen it just be like that sometimes #merry christmas to ye of the southern hemisphere i guess!#also Wow it's been a hot minute since i've written ml huh #and of course it is Angst #<:3c

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