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#adrienette fanfic
starscay · 5 months
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Drunk on Your Love
“Marinette!” He calls, running over and throwing his arms around her. She returns the embrace as he burrows his face into her shoulder.
“I thought you left,” He whines, his breath hot against her and smelling vaguely of the tequila shots she had seen him taking with Juleka earlier.
A very drunk Adrien, his lack of object permanence, and his love for Marinette (1.1k words)
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joonapeach · 9 months
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and he's a goner [MLB]
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summary: Adrien’s weak for girls who make him feel weak.
(Alternatively… a brief history of how strong girls turn Adrien into a simp and how Marinette ends up being one of them)
author’s note: this is more of a character-study/vibes-than-plot type of thing. but it was so fun to write and makes me smile because it’s a new style of adrien realizing his feelings for mari.
also reposted on ao3
[3k words of a fluff/humor and an alternate universe of canon divergence]
Adrien’s weak for girls who make him feel weak.
A little sadistic, he knows, but he promises it’s not as scandalous as it may sound. It’s simply the only common denominator he can find between every girl he’s ever felt pulled to.
The biggest case and point is, of course, a spotted girl in red but he’ll come back to that one in a bit. Let’s start off easy - elementary school.
Contrary to whatever his eight year old classmates might think, it was not Chloe who had him starstruck when she forced him to come up a tree in the playground that he was terrified beyond words to climb. He understands why it might’ve looked that way to the outside world when an eight year old Adrien Agreste was seen tumbling out of a tree after he heard her voice. But it was, in fact, a short cherub-cheeks dark-haired girl passing by who was the reason that Adrien to date was left with a nasty scar across his elbow.
“Hey!” the girl had yelled, peeking into the playground. “What are you making him do?!”
Chloe scoffed, turning her nose up at the intruder. This was, after all, a playground near their school and this girl - whoever she was - was a complete stranger. But that didn’t seem to scare in the slightest. She only put her hands on her hips, threw a look back at her busy parents and marched closer.
“Mind your own business,” Chloe mocked.
The girl didn’t back away. She looked more infuriated, if anything, and Adrien could only blink at her. Even he was intimidated by his childhood best friend, despite whatever weight his Agreste name carried but this girl wasn’t shaken up by Chloe, nor scared to come into a space of kids that she didn’t know.
“He’s clearly frightened to death! I saw you forcing him to climb the tree!”
“I’m not forcing him! He’s scared of heights and I’m helping him overcome his fear!”
“He doesn’t look like he wants to overcome his fear,” the girl stated, crossing her arms over her chest. Then she looked at him. “Hey, you. Did you want to climb this tree?”
No words came to his lips. Adrien could only manage to shake his head, clutching to the trunk of the high tree tighter. He was hanging for his dear life.
“See? And what about the rest of you?! Why couldn’t you stand up to her and stop her from making him climb?!” the girl went on, frowning at his classmates. They all kept their heads down, shooting apologetic glances. “What if he gets seriously hurt?! Someone should help him! He barely looks like he can come down!”
Boys in his class snickered at the last statement and Adrien knew he should’ve been retorting back to her about some false capabilities of how strong he definitely was. She was saving him but in turn embarrassing him.
Instead, he could barely manage a squeak. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so important that this girl saw him as the weakest loser on the playground getting picked on - only that she was seeing him.
Well, kind of. She was hardly looking his way, more focused on giving Chloe a scolding - probably the first scolding Chloe had ever gotten. Adrien only watched from his terrible spot in a tree at a stranger defend him, as if she’d known him forever.
No matter how bad a situation was for a stranger, no matter how much pity Adrien would feel for them, he couldn’t imagine doing what was being done for him. He was always on the receiving end of attention even at such a young age that he couldn’t picture the image of Adrien Agreste marching headfirst into trouble to save anyone.
And yet, this girl had done it.
In hindsight, Adrien thinks maybe this is where his obsession began. His obsession to be someone half as marvelous as the eight year old girl who tried to save him from a tree, his obsession to find someone as brilliant as the eight year old who put her hands on her hips and commanded a class full of kids to do better.
But back then, none of these revelations came as coherently. Instead, there were the stirrings of something warm and delicious in Adrien’s heart and - according to present-day re-tellers of this story - a dreamy smile on his face with wide eyes at his classmates being told off.
All seconds before his grip on the tree trunk loosened.
The girl noticed first. Of course she did. Her mouth gaped and he thought he heard her scream, “hey! Hold on!” but now he isn’t so sure because all he remembers is that when her eyes met his, he was falling before he knew it.
“Falling out of a tree because of a pretty girl,” Plagg sighs. “Just so you know, I will be omitting these parts of your life when I recount you as Chat Noir to future Chat Noirs.”
Adrien grins. “Hey, you’re the one who was curious about the first girl I had a crush on.”
“Tell me kid, why is it that you’re always the damsel in distress in these stories of your crushes?”
Adrien strikes a narcissistic pose, pressing his index finger to his nose. “Maybe because I look the part so well?”
Plagg looks unimpressed. “Yeah. I will definitely be omitting this when I talk about you.”
“I’m glad you’ll talk about me to future Chat Noirs to begin with,” Adrien only smiles. “I don’t think I’m that great a Chat Noir.”
“You’re a good one alright,” Plagg shrugs. “Plus, I have no choice but to bring you up when I talk about our current Ladybug to every new cycle of heroes,” he adds with a grin, and Adrien wonders if this expression on Plagg’s face mirrors his expression of being starstruck. “I hope every Ladybug after her can be half as good.”
Ah, yes. Girls who make him weak.
Where did Adrien stop in his story again?
After an unfortunate tumble to the ground at eight years old (and scraped elbows and a broken leg), so came an end to Adrien’s public school life. At least, till he was fourteen and met the next girl who swept him off his feet.
Except the timeline’s a little fuzzy for this one. You see, Adrien is certain that he falls for Ladybug after a wondrous speech she gives before she promises herself to Paris (and so goes his heart) but there’s a few bumps on this road. It isn’t so simple because his heart flutters sometimes and it isn’t always for her.
But even if it’s not always for her, it’s always because of her in some way. There’s a girl at school who surprises Adrien at times and occasionally, makes his head spin because her voice, her words, the way she argues with Chloe, reminds him too much of both an eight year old crush and his superhero first love.
Aside from her though, there are some other bumps on his road with Ladybug too. Ladybug isn’t like the eight year old girl on the playground, one that he sees once and feels his heart burst to never feel it again. Ladybug is a whole piece of his life.
Ladybug makes him feel weak but she also tells him he’s strong. She tells him she trusts him, no matter the awful mistakes he makes in trying to be someone who saves others and she tells him he’s a hero. Granted, she doesn’t know it’s Adrien Agreste she’s telling but… it still counts for something.
Because Adrien Agreste has never been a hero. He’s simply been the one with things given to him. He’s the one who takes and never does anything for anyone.
And here comes a girl, one who makes him feel weak and warm but believes he can save her too.
And you know what? Despite all his shortcomings and insecurities, Adrien will never tell Ladybug otherwise. Because though he’s used to being weak for her, there’s still nothing in this world he didn’t believe he couldn’t save her from.
Then comes the brief period Adrien has to take himself away from Ladybug - both for her sake and his.
Of course, he’s still madly in love. He follows her lead, grins when he’s wrapped in her yo-yo and she inevitably has to rescue him, works with her like a best friend. Only difference is, Adrien’s been so busy in love that he hasn’t recognized that there’s another very important part of chasing after someone. Them loving you back.
As much as Ladybug makes Adrien feel all weak and giddy, Adrien finally pulls away for a while and what do you know? He gets pulled to yet another girl who makes him feel weak.
This time, it’s a girl he knows from fencing and she even likes him back. It’s a first for Adrien, being liked back.
It goes really well for a while. Though Adrien’s heart secretly still resides in the yo-yo of a spotted superhero after being wrapped in it countless times - this is nice. Kagami is nice. He’s smitten sometimes, when he clumsily makes bad jokes and gives his hard-working brain a break from the extracurriculars to act silly. It’s his dream relationship - she’s rational and strong, and he’s just the boy who gets to chase after her. It’s what he’d always wanted with Ladybug.
But then… it turns out more hurtful than Adrien expects. When Kagami puts down his jokes or berates him for his childishness, Adrien doesn’t like feeling weak like he once did. When Kagami doesn’t hear out his sincerity or when she sees him beneath her because of how he worships her ground, Adrien suddenly feels like he’s done this all wrong.
Where did he go wrong? Did girls not like weak boys? Was showing how charmed he was going to make him a target?
His heart doesn’t flutter for her like it did for the other two girls before her and yet… it still hurts. Even when he cries, he hides none of it from Kagami and begs to stay together.
“It won’t work,” Kagami says to him softly, like it’s an apology. “I like you but… dating you isn’t like I expected. I don’t think I’m the girl you’re looking for either.”
“You are,” he says quickly. She has to be. There isn’t a plethora of girls like the eight year old girl on the playground who want to date him and… Adrien doesn’t feel for anyone else. If it isn’t Kagami, it can’t be anyone else.
“It gets tiring, Adrien,” Kagami sighs. “We’re too… different, you know? It gets tiring always having to rescue you and be the strong one.”
If it isn’t Kagami, it can’t even be Ladybug.
That’s what Adrien takes away from his first relationship and first breakup. If even Kagami couldn’t be around him, can’t put up with having to take care of Adrien in the way he wants… then Ladybug wouldn’t either.
She leaves and Adrien mopes for the rest of the night. For the first time in a while, he thinks he could take the pain of falling out of a tree just to relive an old day of his life than to be here right now.
While Adrien knows being Chat should technically be limited to superhero-duties, it doesn’t stop him from skipping off rooftops and helping every person in need he sees tonight.
An old lady crossing the street with trouble? Adrien jumps to bridal-carry her to her destination. A car stuck driving into a fire hydrant? Adrien uses his strength to push it away. A delivery needed to be done across the other side of the Arc de Triomphe? Adrien swiftly skips through multiple lanes without fear.
He’s no longer going to wait to be saved, no longer willing to be weak for girls who made him feel weak. The eight year old girl, Ladybug, Kagami… they’re all nothing special. Adrien is the one who made them something to marvel at in his mind.
“I’m going to be a new person from today, Plagg,” he says, standing atop a rooftop while waiting for his kwami to recharge. “You’ll have only good stories to tell about me. I’m not the damsel in distress. I’m the hero!”
“Easy there Hercules,” Plagg laughs, chewing his cheese. “One measly breakup spurring all this change?”
Adrien ignores him in favor of looking over Paris. A sight of young girls at the park catches his eye, all desperately crowding around a tree.
“Looks like there’s someone who needs help,” Adrien says. “Come on, Plagg!”
Plagg sighs. “All this and I just know you’re gonna fall in love with the next strong girl,” he grumbles before being sucked inside Adrien’s ring.
In a few moments, Adrien lands inside the park and sprints to the young girls. There’s a cat meowing in the branches and Adrien quickly understands the situation.
“How’d your cat get up there?” he asks, climbing carefully up.
“He got scared and ran up,” a girl answers. “Careful! He doesn’t like strangers.”
“Don’t worry about that. Cats are good to each other,” Adrien says with a wink before reaching for the small kitty stuck in the branches. He holds him for only a second before he slips out of his hands, back to the girls. Adrien sighs in relief, happy to help another citizen.
Until he recognizes the predicament he’s stuck in.
“Ah… haha,” he awkwardly chokes out a laugh, shooting a friendly smile to the girls. “I… I didn’t realize how high this tree was.”
The girls suddenly look mischievous. “I thought you were a cat?” says one. “Are you… scared?”
“No!” Adrien quickly rejects, though his pulse quickens when he looks at the ground. He’s used to heights by now but something about being caught so high in the branches still makes him uneasy. Please, he prays, please don’t let me fall.
“Just jump!” another girl says. “Cats always land on their feet, right?”
It takes Adrien a few seconds to realize they’re teasing him. He could beg for their help but something in their grin tells him they’re perfectly happy to watch him struggle so high. Adrien swallows.
Only such an awful thing could happen to him tonight.
“Hey,” a new voice joins the ground. In the night, Adrien has to strain his eyes to make out the new figure, an older girl towering over the young ones. “What are you doing?”
“Chat Noir’s stuck in a tree!” a young girl laughs teasingly. “He always talks so much about being a cat but look at him!”
The new girl strains her neck and that’s when Adrien’s stomach plummets. Staring up at him from the ground is no other than his classmate with her hands on her hips and a frown tugging between her brows.
“Why aren’t you helping?!” Marinette suddenly yells at the little girls. “Were you just laughing at him this whole time?”
Chat gulps. He’s heard that dominating tone from her before but it’s been a while. He’s so used to her shy, stammering self that it’s easy to forget that Marinette has this side to her. 
“We weren’t laughing! And he’s fine, he’s a superhero! Superheroes don’t need saving!”
Marinette crosses her arms with a stubborn glare. “Sometimes, they might,” she states before glancing up at him. “You okay there?”
Suddenly, Adrien’s at a loss for words. He can barely manage a squeak but it satisfies Marinette enough. She turns to the kids, now going off at them for being inconsiderate to him and Adrien’s surprised at the passion of her words. As far as he could recall, Marinette has never been such a die-hard fan of Chat and yet, here she was defending his honor as if it were her own.
He quickly fights the familiar feeling. He knows this all too well - him weak, a pretty girl strong and his heart gone. He instantly tries to block out her voice until he hears the young girls screaming back.
“We’re gonna call our moms! You can’t shout at us,” they bark at her, upset. “Wait right here!”
Marinette’s eyes widen as she watches the group of girls suddenly walk in another direction. She glances up and shoots an awkward smile, before climbing up with ease.
The world feels like a daydream till Marinette’s hands are around his torso and he’s no longer trapped in a tree but lying on the ground with her on him. In a flash of movements, she tugs him to his feet and runs out of the park with his hand in hers.
“What… what are we doing?!”
“Those girls were gonna call their moms!” Marinette says, turning her head back for only a brief second. Adrien feels the wind in his chest as the two are running on the streets of Paris, against all the people. “I’m not gonna let some rude girls get the best of us!”
After a few moments, the two halt on a bench and Marinette cranes her neck. She sighs in relief when she sees no one behind them and it’s the two of them alone now. Adrien can’t do much but stare at her. He remembers running with Marinette away from crazy fans but this situation feels far from that. For some reason, it feels like an even older memory.
He kicks his feet back and forth, sitting on the bench as Marinette stands in front of him and says, “good thing I came in time, right?”
Adrien can hear a smile in her voice and it reminds him of Ladybug. Now able to catch his breath, his bitter feelings bubble up to the surface. Marinette argued with a bunch of middle schoolers for me, he screams internally in humiliation. Why did these things always happen to him?
“I was doing fine.”
“I know that,” she says.
He looks up at her and grumbles, “I didn’t need saving.”
He intends it to be rude, to be harsh and snappy but Marinette only laughs. He feels her soft fingers ruffle his hair.
“Oh, I know that too kitty,” she grins, not at all peeved by his frustration. “You just like being saved,” she adds with a twinkle in her eye.
Adrien blinks. “That must be annoying, right?” he asks, the question coming off his lips without him intending to. The worries of the week are bottling up in him and being caught in this situation makes him feel vulnerable again. “To have to rescue someone who always likes being saved?”
Marinette smiles. Adrien worries his question is too strange and random but when he looks at her, he feels only reassurance.
“Hmm… maybe for some people,” she shrugs before bending down to his level and winking. “Lucky for you, I like saving.”
The nostalgic stirrings of something warm and delicious start in his heart. He’s sure he’s felt this before but something about this also feels new. More than anything, it feels right.
Oblivious to the chaos she’s caused his heart, Marinette stands up and brushes her trousers. All Adrien can do is stare. Stare and hope his heart calms down enough to help him find even a single coherent word to say.
He watches as she rearranges her bag and steps away. “Well, try not to get caught in any more trees,” she says, half-distracted. “I once saw a kid tumble straight out of a big one. Broke his leg too.”
Ah. Now Adrien knows why it feels right. If there were any future re-tellers of this story, he’s sure that he has the same dopey smile an eight year kid once did at falling out of a tree. He finally finds the semblance of some confidence to laugh and say to her, “m-must’ve been a stupid kid.”
Marinette laughs back, pausing in thought. “Maybe. I think he was kind of cute though,” she waves before running off. “See you around, kitty!”
Left alone, Adrien only grins like a madman on a sugar rush. He revisits his initial theory - it isn’t that he’s weak for girls who make him feel weak. It’s that there’s one girl in particular that he’s been weak for since falling out of a tree… and no matter what he does, he’s a goner every time she comes to him.
BONUS
“Is Adrien doing okay?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
Marinette’s finger goes to the window of the classroom and everyone’s eyes follow. The sight is both entertaining and worrying for everyone - though for Marinette, it’s only puzzling.
“Hey Marinette!” Adrien waves excitedly with a big grin. His feet are kicking back and forth like a child on a swing, except he’s not on a swing. He’s on the highest branch of a tree, while the rest of the class looks at him in horror.
“Um… should we be doing something?” Alya cocks a brow.
Adrien suddenly points to the branch he’s sitting on energetically. “Marinette, I’m on a tree!”
“I can see that,” Marinette yells back through the window. “What are you doing there?!”
“Oh God,” Chloe mutters, peeking over Marinette’s shoulders. “The boy fell off once as a kid and now thinks he has to prove himself? Didn’t his broken leg teach him anything?” she says to herself.
Marinette’s eyes widen before turning back to Adrien. No doubt, the lovesick smile on his face is starting to look awfully familiar but it isn’t till he yells some more that she runs out. “Marinette, don’t you like saving?!” he says, still waving for her attention. “I need to be saved!”
Alya and Nino both turn to her. “What is he talking about?”
Marinette pales and she’s out the door before she has time to think of a reasonable explanation to give to her friends. Right now, there’s only one idiot on her mind to save.
“Chat Noir! Get down from that tree!” 
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jennagrinsoverml · 1 year
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Title: Learning to See
Chapters: 5/?
Series: Part 2 of Love is Blind: France
Rating: T
Pairing: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Notes:
Reality TV AU
Summary:
After 10 days of blind dating in the pods, Adrien and Marinette chose each other and got engaged.
But the face to face reveal has thrown them for a loop. For Marinette, she came on this show to get over Adrien, and now she unknowingly fell for him again. She fears that he’ll never be able to reconcile his love for Thesis with his platonic feelings for his very good friend Marinette. For Adrien, he’s always loved Ladybug and wanted to be closer to Marinette, but he knows Adrien’s always made her uncomfortable. He worries that the reveal of his identity has caused her to regret choosing him.
They’re together but they’re still pining away, thinking they feel more than the other does.
Will they learn to talk openly and vulnerably, the way they used to in the pods? Or will their insecurities drive them apart?
In this chapter, Marinette has a foolproof plan to make things happen. And Marinette’s plans for Adrien always go so well...
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manikas-whims · 2 years
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Mlb fans
someone recommend me good Adrienette fanfics where Adrien is more of his real self and flirts with Marinette like Chat Noir would.
Or some fics where Adrien finds out but Maru doesn't.
I'm fine with a mix of adrienette and marichat as well.
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bugaboi38 · 1 year
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Akumatized
Miraculous Ladybug, Adrinette, 4.9K words
Um, hi. This was written back in 2018. So keep that in mind. This is an secret-identity-reveal story that involves Marinette getting Akumatized, something we still haven’t really seen in the show yet. This basically just takes the form of a typical episode in the show, but with those twists! It also has some Tikki x Plagg (Plagki?) So yeah! Sending this out into the void. Enjoy!
“Marinette, you have to tell him!”
“No,” the blue-haired girl sighed. “You know I can’t, Tikki. It’ll… it’ll only make it worse.”
“You keep saying that, but… Marinette, listen to me, please… not telling him is eating you up, it’s only making everything worse! You’ve barely been eating, you’re ditching school to get away from him, and worst of all, you’ve been refusing to transform. This isn’t just about you! You’re lucky Cat Noir managed to handle Computer Wizard on his own and catch the akuma with his bare hands using his Cataclysm! But what happens when Hawk Moth creates another supervillain? Cat won’t be able to pull it off alone again! The people of Paris need you! Everyone believes in you! But you’re putting them all in danger!”
“Then find. Another. Ladybug.”
“Marinette, it has to be you!”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“But Mari--”
“I said stop!” Marinette grabbed her earrings off and threw them on the ground, smashing them with her foot. Then, as the rage in her eyes cleared and she realized what she’d just done, she fell to her knees and sobbed. “Tikki… no. Tikki, I’m so sorry….” She stayed there, crying, for what felt like an eternity.
“Marinette!” called the voice of her mother. “Come down; dinner’s ready!”
Marinette sighed, wiping away her tears and trying to maintain a neutral expression. She came down from her attic bedroom and took her place at the table.
“Are you all right, Marinette?” asked her father. He must have seen the redness in her eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, of course, I’m… fine,” she replied weakly.
“Remember Marinette,” said her mother concernedly, “you can tell us everything.”
Marinette took a bite of her food. It was her favorite meal, but somehow it didn’t seem all that appetizing. “I’m not very hungry. I’m… gonna go back to my room.” As she went up, her parents threw each other concerned glances.
When she stepped back into the room, she immediately eyed the spot where she’d destroyed her miraculous, only to find its remains had vanished. Did that mean…? She tentatively approached her vanity, pulling out the middle drawer. Inside was the box in which she’d first received her miraculous. She lay it in the palm of her hand. She closed her eyes, not able to look, and opened the box. When she snapped her eyes open, she was so relieved to find the miraculous undamaged and good as new that she let out audible sounds of joy. She quickly fastened them to her ears, and Tikki reappeared. “I’m so sorry, Tikki. I thought I’d lost you!”
Tikki smiled. “The miraculouses have been around for millennia upon millennia. They’ve endured worse that a little bit of stomping.”
“All I care about is that you’re okay.” Marinette hugged Tikki close to her.
Tikki wriggled out. “So, are you going to do it?”
Marinette’s face fell. “I’ll try.”
Tikki smiled widely. “That’s the spirit!”
“But Tikki, how am I possibly supposed to tell him?”
“I understand your difficulties, Marinette. Maybe you can start with telling a friend.”
“Easy for you to say; you’re not the one with a crush on someone. I bet if you did, then you wouldn’t even tell—”
Tikki giggled. “I have a crush on Plagg.”
Marinette just stared at her, shell-shocked.
“You know, Cat Noir’s kwami. The Black Cat of Destruction.” If it was possible to say Black Cat of Destruction dreamily, Tikki definitely did it.
“Y-yeah, Cat’s told me about him. And… not good things, either.”
“Oh, you mean his laziness and his sarcasm and his strange addiction to Camembert cheese? I think it’s all so adorable. He always manages to make me laugh and smile, even when the Guardian caused the temple of the Order of the Guardians to be destroyed, and Nooroo and Duusu to be lost. I thought I would never smile or laugh again. But Plagg was there for me, with his sarcasm and cat puns and Camembert. He dug me out of a deep trench I had fallen into. He’s the imperfection to my perfection. Marinette, I think you need to find yours.”
“Have you told Plagg?”
Tikki sighed. “No, not for over a hundred years.”
Marinette raised her fist in triumph. “See! It’s not that easy!”
“But I did tell you, and that wasn’t so hard, right? So go tell a friend. And if you do confess to Adrien…” her kwami let out a breath. “Then I’ll confess to Plagg.”
“Deal?” Marinette extended her hand.
Tikki shook it. “Deal.”
Tikki suddenly began to buzz and vibrate. “I-i-i-i-it’s C-c-c-c-cat N-n-n-n-noir! H-h-h-h-he n-n-n-n-needs y-y-y-y-you!”
Marinette let out a deep breath. “Tikki, spots… on.”
As her kwami was sucked into her miraculous earrings, Marinette swiped her hands across her face, and a mask appeared. She outstretched her left arm, and red with black spots began to creep up it.
And then it stopped.
“Marinette,” called out a voice. Marinette quickly turned around, ready to flip the person behind her over her head. There were only two problems. One, there was no one there. Two, she hadn’t transformed into Ladybug, not all the way, meaning she was still a klutz. She tripped over her feet, landing smack on her stomach. She groaned. “Marinette, it’s me, Tikki! In your earring!”
Since it’s often quite difficult to look at one’s ear unassisted, Marinette rushed to her vanity. She saw Tikki’s head sticking out of her miraculous, the rest of her body stuck inside.
“Too many negative emotions,” Tikki wheezed. “I can’t get in. I can’t transform you.”
“Try to push in; Cat needs me!”
“No, Marinette! That’s what Hawkmoth did! You don’t want to turn yourself evil!”
Marinette sighed. “Spots off.”
Just as her mask faded off, her mother peeked up the hatch in her room, making Marinette jump back. She immediately grabbed Tikki and shoved her behind her back. “Oh, hi Mom!” She said quickly, trying to cover Tikki.
“I was just making sure you’re all right, dear. We heard a loud thunk.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s just me being… me! I ah… tripped. Clumsy me.” She swung her arm.
“What are you hiding behind your back?” her mother questioned.
“Oh, it’s… uh… a squeaky toy that Manon left over!” She held out Tikki and squeezed her.
“Squeak,” said Tikki weakly.
“Okay Marinette, just let us know if you need anything.”
As her mother disappeared down the hatch in her floor, Marinette let out a deep breath. But then she remembered their current dilemma. She grabbed a half-eaten macaron from her vanity and gave it to Tikki. “So what happened?” She asked.
“Your feelings toward Adrien are still so bitter. You must have positive emotions to transform.”
“What about when the Bubbler captured my parents? I wasn’t happy then.”
“But you had the love for your parents and resolve to fight, which is a positive thing. But now you don’t have much resolve to do anything but sit in your room and hate Adrien.”
“I don’t hate Adrien! I love him! Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because it’s true, whether you want it to be or not.”
Marinette didn’t respond, just thinking about what Tikki said. She climbed to the roof and stared at the horizon. All of a sudden, she saw a giant purple monster, Cat trailing behind it. “You’re right, Tikki, I need to go find Adrien.”
“Wait, wait, wait.”
“What is it Tikki? Don’t you want me to talk with him?”
“You won’t find Adrien.”
“W-why not? Where is he? Is he kidnapped? Or hurt? Or akumatized?”
“He’s… under a disguise. What matters is that you won’t find him until that monster is de-akumatized. Talk to your friend Alya.”
“Okay.” She dialed Alya’s number and hit call.
It ringed once.
Twice.
Three ti—
“Why are you answering that now? Aren’t we in the middle of something?” Marinette frowned. That wasn’t Alya; it was Nino.
“Nino, it’s Marinette! I think we can put this on hold for just a minute!” Finally, Alya seemed to start talking to Marinette. “Hey girl, sorry about that! I’m here with Nino making—um, making, uh, cookies! Yeah, we’re… uh… doing that.”
Marinette’s eyes widened, and she smacked her forehead. “Look, Alya, I need to meet with you. In private. Okay? The rooftop.”
“Okay! On my way!”
Marinette’s thumb hovered over the end call button, but before she pressed it, she heard Nino in the background: “Really, Alya? You couldn’t have waited?”
“Marinette’s depressed, boy! This is the first time she’s talked to me in like a month! I’ve gotta talk to her. Oh, I forgot to hang up!”
Depressed? Was she really depressed? If she had so much negative emotion that she couldn’t transform, maybe she was.
Before she could think about it any more, Alya was already there, breathing heavily. “Girl, I’m so glad to see you! What did you want to talk about?”
“It’s… well, I um, you see…”
“Adrien!” whispered Tikki.
“Adrien!” Marinette repeated.
Alya gave her a concerned look. “You’re incoherent again. What about Adrien?”
“I… I…”
“Just spit it out, Marinette. Even if you make no sense, I think I know you well enough to figure out what you’re trying to say.”
Okay, I can do this, she thought. She thought back to her conversation with Tikki, and how easily her Kwami had told her about her crush on Plagg. About how she’d thought it was cute how he loved Camembert.
Three.
Two.
One.
Go.
“I’m in love with camembert!”
“What?!” shouted both Alya and Tikki. Luckily, Alya didn’t hear Tikki over the sound of her own voice.
“I mean Plagg is in love with Camembert! I mean, I’m in love with Plagg! No! I mean Adrien! Plagg is in love with Adrien!”
She groaned and heard Tikki let out an “Uck!”
Alya just laughed. “Even I couldn’t understand that! Who’s this Plagg dude anyway?”
Marinette’s eyes darted to everywhere but her best friend. “Just… ah… no one?” She laughed nervously. Alya was giving her the look, the look she gave her whenever she was trying to cover her identity as Ladybug.
“Plagg, I feel like I’ve heard that before somewhere…”
Uh oh. If she didn’t change the subject fast, Alya could find out who she was. She needed to do it. Now. “I’m… in love with Adrien.”
“And…?”
“You’re not surprised?”
“Of course not! Everyone in the school knows you like Adrien, even Chloé! It’s not exactly a secret.”
Marinette’s face turned beet red. She sat and pulled her knees up to her chest. “E-everyone?”
“Well, just about everyone but Adrien. Unless Nino told him.” She shook her head, sighing.
“Um, uh, speaking of Nino, you should… probably go hang out with him some more. He seemed pretty annoyed with you.”
“Oh, you heard that? Oops. I guess you’re right. But are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Alya, just go.”
“But—”
“Go.”
At long last, Alya disappeared down the hatch. Tikki took the precise moment to float out with a disgusted look on her face. “If you say that Plagg likes Adrien one more time—”
“GRRRRRAUGH!” Marinette let out, covering her face with her hands.
“Oh, sorry!” Tikki apologized, visibly sinking. “Bad time. I didn’t mean it, I promise!”
Back behind a large circular window with a butterfly design, a tall purple-clad man stood. “Heartbroken by the boy she loves, then humiliated by her best friend. The perfect recipe for disaster.” He trapped a white butterfly in his hands, turning its color to purple. “Fly away, my little akuma, and evilize her!
Back on the roof of Marinette’s bakery/house, Marinette cried between her fingers while Tikki tried to comfort her: “Marinette, I’m sorry. But it’ll get better, I promise.”
Marinette’s face flushed red beneath her tears, from anger this time. “It was YOUR idea to tell Alya!”
“Marinette, I’m so sorry. All I can do is--akuma!”
Sure enough, a purple akuma fluttered behind her, coming nearer with every flap.
“Marinette! I think I can get you your yoyo! Use it to capture the akuma!”
“What does it matter,” she grumbled beneath her breath unintelligibly. However, she did mutter, “Spots on.”
Tikki was sucked into the miraculous but didn’t get far past her feet. Despite this, the yoyo appeared. Marinette took a deep breath. “No evildoing for you this time, little akuma. Time to de-evilize!” she opened her yoyo and threw it at the akuma.
Then something strange happened. She missed. The yoyo whizzed past its target, missing by a good foot. Before Marinette could think about what had just happened, the akuma flew into the other side of the yoyo, and her vision clouded over. She heard the voice of Hawk Moth: “Amnesia, I am Hawk Moth. You have been the victim of a rumor. Rumors can be nasty things. Once it gets out, it cannot be forgotten. But I can help you. I will give you the power to make people forget whatever you wish, in return for one thing: bring me Ladybug and Cat Noir’s miraculous!”
Another voice was heard. Tikki. “Don’t give in, Marinette!”
Marinette turned around, still with the trace of purple in the shape of Hawk Moth’s mask covering her face. “I already have.”
It all started a few weeks ago when Cat Noir was working with Ladybug. She’d just de-evilized the akuma and had only few minutes before she changed back when he had casually asked her out to the movies. It wasn’t the first time.
But this time was different. “Cat…” she responded, softly but firmly, if that was possible, “how many times do I have to tell you, it’s never going to happen!” Her voice began to rise, slowly but steadily, “I love a different boy. And besides, I don’t even know who you are! How could I possibly love you?”
“Right,” Cat said quietly, “I get it. Forget I said anything.” He turned away and jumped off the building.
“Cat, wait!” she grabbed for his tail, but too late. He was already gone, disappearing into the horizon.
He made his way back to the Agreste mansion, slipping through the open window. Normally he would just wait for his time to run out, but at the moment he didn’t feel much like being Cat.
“Claws in,” he said, and his superhero outfit faded, replaced by his kwami, Plagg, staring at him. Plagg opened his mouth to make some stupid complaint about camembert, but Adrien slipped his ring off before he could say anything, causing him to vanish.
Pure silence.
For a moment, it was nice to just be Adrien again: the perfect, prestigious teen model who everyone loved, at least on the outside.
But all too soon, his thoughts drifted back to the imperfect, goofy black-cat-themed superhero who wasn’t loved. Ladybug’s words came back to him.
It’s never going to happen.
I love another boy.
How could I possibly love you?
It’s NEVER going to happen.
How could I POSSIBLY love you?
Never.
Never.
Never.
Explainably, Adrien wasn’t very happy the next day. He barely spoke the entire day. When Nino asked if something was bothering him after lunch, he just shook his head and walked off.
It sucked. It really did.
Suitably, it was raining by the time school got out. He was walking down the staircase, on his way to get picked up, when he noticed Marinette standing there, holding a black umbrella. His umbrella. The one he had given to her on the first day of school.
He didn’t know why he did it. When he tried to recall it, he couldn’t even remember what he was thinking. The best explanation was that Marinette… almost reminded him of Ladybug. Maybe it was her unique dark-blue hair, or the incident with [her names]’s music video. He knew that he shouldn’t have let out his anger on her, but it was already done.
He’d walked up to her, wrenched the umbrella out of her hands, and said, “That’s my umbrella, thank you very much,” then walked away, leaving her standing in the rain.
It was a huge jerk move to make. Maybe it could’ve been justified if he’d done it to Ladybug. Then he could’ve at least called them even. But to Marinette, it was just wrong.
He was sitting on the couch back in his room when his phone buzzed. It was Marinette.
Adrien looked away. He couldn’t bring himself to think about her right now.
But just as the buzzing stopped, it started again.
Groaning, Adrien turned off his phone.
Adrien could barely focus on anything the next few days. All he could think about was the ring on his finger as he twisted it back and forth. With just a phrase, it could turn him into Cat Noir. It could turn him into himself.
He was itching to stretch his claws. But without Ladybug this time.
After all, there didn’t have to be a villain for Adrien to transform. He could transform whenever he wanted. Now that he thought about it, he wondered why he didn’t do it more often.
So as soon as Adrien got back into his room, he retrieved his ring and slipped it on.
“What are you doing?” Plagg asked him.
“Transforming,” Adrien stated simply.
“But why?”
Adrien shrugged. “To get out.”
“You know, you shouldn’t use the miraculous for personal reasons…”
“Well… are you gonna stop me?”
“No, I’m just obligated to say that. Now let’s go!”
Taking the invitation, Adrien chanted, “Okay Plagg, claws out!”
As the mask, cat ears, belt, and black bodysuit appeared around him, he finally felt like himself again. So he slipped out of his window and used his rod to launch himself as far away as he could.
But as he made his third jump, he noticed something odd.
A couple was on the sidewalk, looking in every direction as if confused. The man said to the woman, “Honey, what’s my name?”
“I don’t know,” she responded. “What’s mine?”
Cat knew a strange situation like this must be the sign of another villain. He sighed to himself, “Really? I just wanted to be alone for a while! Why do villains always appear at the worst times? Well, who knows, maybe Ladybug won’t show up again!”
But he found out he was wrong when he came face-to-face with the villain on top of the next building he jumped to.
Ladybug hadn’t just shown up.
She had been akumatized.
Her spotted red suit had turned to a sickly shade of green, and her hair had darkened and fallen down over her eyes.
At first Adrien thought it must have been an Akumatized fan of Ladybug, like when Chloé had turned into Anti-Bug, but when he saw the flawless way she slung her yoyo, he knew it had to be the real thing. “Ladybug?”
“There is no more Ladybug! Now I’m Amnesia!” she snarled. “I’ve already erased the memories of everyone in my class. Now I just need to find Adrien, so I can make him forget about Kagami!”
Cat Noir flinched at hearing his real name. What? Was this about him? And how did Ladybug know about him and Kagami?
“I’ll make him forget about her, and Lyla, and anyone else! I’ll make him love me!”
Love her? Ladybug wanted Cat—Adrien—to love her? If only she knew that he and Adrien were the same person…
But then who was she? And what had caused her to be akumatized?
Before Cat could think about it any more, Amnesia continued, “But first, Hawk Moth wants me to bring him the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculouses. Of course, I already have my own…” she held out her palm, which held her two earrings in it. “Now, I just need yours. So it’s time for you to forget!”
Cat jumped to the side as Amnesia threw her yoyo at him, which sprayed green fumes. Cat backed away further to avoid breathing them in.
Cat began scanning Amnesia’s figure, searching for where the akuma might be, when the outline of Hawk Moth’s mask appeared on Amnesia’s face. She murmured, “Take the Ladybug Miraculous back to you? But you said to get both…. Okay. I’ll come back for the Black Cat Miraculous later.”
Since Hawk Moth was so insistent upon getting both the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses, Cat Noir figured that Hawk Moth needed both miraculouses for his plan. Still, Cat couldn’t let Hawk Moth get the Ladybug Miraculous—Hawk Moth could still do all sorts of things with it, and without Ladybug it was only a matter of time before he got Cat Noir’s miraculous too.
He couldn’t let Amnesia get away, and he had to get those earrings back.
“Cataclysm!” he shouted, and darkness gathered above his right palm. Now, where to use it…?
What would Ladybug do? What would Ladybug do?
As Cat saw Amnesia running toward the edge of the building, he got an idea. He slapped his fist onto the roof, and it began to decay, cracks running out from where he touched it. The cracks spread to where Amnesia was running, and she tripped as the roof separated beneath her feet. The earrings flew out of her hand and skittered off the edge of the roof.
Cat dove off the roof after them, catching them in midair and breaking his fall with his rod. He quickly put on the earrings, and Tikki popped out.
“Cat Noir?” she said in her squeaky little voice. “What are you doing with the Ladybug Miraculous?”
“No time to explain! Plagg, Tikki, unify!!”
The scaly material that usually covered Ladybug’s outfit mixed with the one he was already wearing, creating black scales that covered Cat’s body, replacing his belt, ears, and bell, but leaving him still with his rod and claws and adding a yoyo.
“Black Scarab, let’s do this!” he said to himself.
Black Scarab used his rod to raise him back up to the top of the building, where Amnesia was just getting up from her fall. In midair, he threw his black yoyo, wrapping it around his victim and pulling her to him. He started looking for an akuma, but Amnesia twisted in his grasp and held her green yoyo up to Black Scarab’s face, about to spray him with the forgetting gas. Black Scarab jumped away to avoid the blast, freeing Amnesia in the process.
Black Scarab tried the same technique, but again he had to jump back to avoid getting sprayed. He couldn’t get close to her. They were at a stalemate, which meant it was time to change up the game.
“Lucky charm!” Black Scarab shouted, and a red-with-black-polka-dots object appeared in the sky.
“A spray bottle?” Black Scarab asked when the item dropped into his hands.
As he jumped away from another puff of gas, he looked around. A plan began to form as he noticed three things:
The spray bottle.
His yoyo.
The cloud of gas.
He quickly unscrewed the top of the spray bottle and tied the bottom part to his yoyo string.
“C’mon, come and get me!” he catcalled.
“Oh, I will!” Amnesia protested, releasing another puff of gas.
Black Scarab threw the yoyo with the spray bottle attached into the cloud of gas, then pulled it back to him. He slapped the lid on the spray bottle before any gas could escape.
“Ha, you missed me!” Black Scarab taunted. “You’ll never hit me from that far away!”
“Fine, I’ll just have to get in closer!” Amnesia shouted. She ran toward him, but at the same moment, she threw her yoyo, Black Scarab threw his too, and they collided in midair. Amnesia lost her balance, falling right into Black Scarab as he raised the spray bottle to her face and squeezed the handle.
Amnesia’s eyes went unfocused, and she dropped her yoyo. She looked at Black Scarab with a confused expression and said, “Who are you?”
“Your savior, of course!” Black Scarab joked as he brought his rod down on the green yoyo, breaking it in half and releasing the akuma inside.
“No more evil-doing for you, little akuma! Time to de-evilize!” Black Scarab shouted as he opened his yoyo and flung it at the akuma, catching it inside.
“Gotcha!”
He flicked his yoyo back and reopened it, releasing the de-evilized akuma. “Goodbye, little butterfly!”
Then he threw his spray bottle into the sky and shouted, “Miraculous Black Scarab!”
Thousands of magical ladybugs appared, swarming the entire city and returning everyone’s memories.
Amnesia’s green-and-black suit began to dissolve around her, and Black Scarab nervously watched on as he witnessed the reveal of Ladybug’s identity.
It was…
Marinette!?
Oh.
OH!
That was why she had been akumatized: because Adrien had been mean to her earlier. And that affected her so much because she was in love with Adrien, which he had already suspected.
But she was also Ladybug. And that changed everything.
Ladybug ignored Cat Noir because she loved Adrien instead, and Adrien had ignored Marinette because he loved Ladybug. But the whole time…
They had both been in love with the same person.
Black Scarab was pulled out of his thoughts by a frantic beeping coming from his ring. He was about to change back.
“Plagg, claws in.”
The cat suit faded away, leaving just Mister Bug in his red and black polka dots.
Marinette, who had fallen to the ground, looked up at him in confusion. “Cat Noir? Is that you? Why are you wearing the Ladybug Miraculous?”
“Don’t worry, you can have your miraculous back, Milady,” Mister Bug assured her.
“M-Milady? My miraculous? I’m… I’m just Marinette…” She seemed to realize it was no use. “Wait, how did you find out?”
“You were akumatized,” Mister Bug explained as he removed his earrings, extending them toward Marinette and transforming back into Adrien in the process.
“A-Adrien? You’re Cat Noir?”
Adrien grinned. “The one and only, Bugaboo.”
Marinette put her hand to her temples. “Agh, this is so weird!”
Before Adrien could respond, Tikki jumped in: “Oh… so you found out.”
“I told you it was only a matter of time,” Plagg commented lazily. “Now, c’mon Adrien, where’s the cheese? I’m hungry!”
“Could you calm your eternal hunger for just a moment, please?” Adrien asked him.
Marinette just looked between Adrien and Plagg uncomprehendingly.
“You… do know what this means, right?” Adrien said, turning back to Marinette.
“Ah… I…”
Adrien finished it for her. “I’ve been in love with you all along, Marinette. And you’ve been in love with Cat Noir this whole time.”
Adrien could see the realization dawning in Marinette’s eyes, a grin spreading across her face. “I mean… I… ah…”
Then her grin fell. “Wait, how did you know I was in love with you? Did Nino—”
“Um, actually, I didn’t really know until you rampaged all over the city erasing everybody’s memories and declaring your undying love for Adrien.”
Marinetter covered her mouth with her hands. “I… I did that?”
Adrien shrugged. “Yeah, but everything is fine now. I stole your Ladybug Miraculous from you and fused it with mine to become Black Scarab. Then I defeated you easily.”
“‘Black Scarab’? Really?”
“Hey, I thought it was pretty creative!”
Marinette shook her head. “This is so weird. We’re talking like Ladybug and Cat Noir!”
Adrien shrugged. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
In the silence that followed, Tikki spoke up, shooting a wink at Marinette. “Um, Plagg… I have something to tell you.”
“Does it have something to do with cheese? ‘Cause I still haven’t gotten any,” he complained.
“Well, no, but—”
“Sorry, no deal.”
“It… could include cheese?”
“Hmm, what kind?”
“I could get you all kinds! Brie, parmesan… camembert...”
“Okay! What is it?”
“Well, I don’t want this to sound rushed or anything, because we’ve only known each other for two million years or so, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, there’s no pressure, but…”
Marinette smiled at Tikki and gave her a thumbs up.
“...I think I’m in love with you.”
Tikki’s cheeks turned a darker shade, but the blush was especially apparent on Plagg’s black cheeks. “Well… if you come through with that promise of cheese, I just might be too,” he joked.
“Oh, Plagg!” Tikki gushed, flying over to him and wrapping him in a tight hug.
“Tikki,” he murmured, returning the hug.
Adrien and Marinette eventually turned away from watching their kwamis and back to each other.
“So… I don’t know how much my father would allow it, but would you like to… um… date?”
“I—yeah. Yeah, definitely. One hundred percent, totally, spectacularly—”
“Miraculously,” Adrien finished for her.
They both grinned at that.
“Well, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, Bugaboo!”
Marinette failed to hide her blush as she said, “You know you can’t call me that at school, right?”
“Of course, Marinette.”
“I’ll… see you tomorrow, then.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Adrien’s remark came with a smirk.
“What?”
Adrien bumped her fist, and they both said together, “Pound it!”
“See you soon, Plagg,” Tikki said, finally releasing her hug.
“You’d better come with some camembert,” he warned.
“Oh, you know I will! Come on Marinette, let’s go home.
Marinette gave her a macaron, and once Tikki finished it, Marinette transformed into Ladybug and swung away.
Adrien gave Plagg a piece of the cheese Plagg always made him carry. A few seconds later, he transformed and leaped away in the opposite direction.
And when Adrien, Marinette, Tikki, and Plagg settled down to go to sleep that night, one thought kept coursing through their heads: WE DID IT!
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roses4cynthia · 1 year
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Summary:
Marinette and Adrien's relationship was unbreakable until Adrien discovered Hawk Moth's true identity. This caused a rift in their relationship, and Marinette was determined to do something about it, even if it meant potentially losing Adrien.
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madibug · 2 years
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a sneak peak at the 6th and final chapter of too little, too late ♥
We’ve finally made it kids :’) Thank you to everyone who has stuck with the story after all this time, I’m so excited to finally be bringing you the ending!!
The final part of too little, too late will be going live tomorrow!
Here is a little excerpt in the meantime <3
x.x.x
His touch ignites an explosion of sunlight.
He’s deposited into the warm hold of a memory - but no, Adrien thinks as his eyes span his new surroundings, that’s not right. This is no memory of his if a memory is what it truly is. 
He is sitting in front of a golden landscape, the tail of the burning sun tucked behind the black horizon, its bleeding brilliance saturating the entire world into a concerto of sweltering colors. He’s on a hillside, above a tidy valley cupped around a lulling lake. 
And walking along its edge are Adrien and Marinette.  
He watches with astonishment as this version of himself - for it clearly isn’t the real him - cajoles Marinette with gentle prodding, coaxing her into an easy, weightless dance. They float around the lake edge with all the effortlessness of two lungs breathing in harmony, pulled into each other as if chasing the other’s gravity - desperate for it.
Unable to survive without it. 
They twirl and twirl and twirl across the ground until they’re spinning out onto that glittering lake surface, melting into the colors of landscape as they begin to undulate and melt together, so that the two of them are two swipes of the thousands making up the painted landscape.
Then, that spark of pink light again. 
There and gone it goes in a flash, and this time when Adrien leaps for it, he knows what it is. 
Or rather, who.
“Tikki!”  Adrien calls, but his voice sounds like it’s bubbling up from underwater. “Please! We need your help!”
“I’m sorry, Adrien,” Tikki says, but her voice is all wrong. Distorted in a drooping way that reminds him of melting plastic. “I can’t seem to - “ and her light flickers, glitching between purple-black and pink-white, like she’s infected with an illness quickly spreading.
The golden landscape melts into that endless void of blackness all around him. His ears begin to ring.
Subscribe here to be notified when the fic goes live♥
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sleepysebris · 4 months
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:) 🖤
@mlsecretsanta gift for @thequeenofspace! happy belated holidays and apologies for the delay, had a serious family emergency followed by sickness! I had so much fun making this though, was so excited to finally draw these two 🖤 hope you enjoy!!!
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I’m back on my shit babbyyyyyyyy
(Translation: family issues is being reworked into a fic called apprendre à aimer librement (which means learning to love freely) and it’s starting next Monday and I finally finished the twenty something page summary I had to work out for it and AGHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY ABOUT IT)
I’ll link it for the first upload on Monday!!!
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spicysummer22 · 9 months
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you can’t convince me that this didn’t happen after the statue scene
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mostmagical · 4 months
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was in desperate need of some serotonin today, so here's some quick post-reveal bed-sharing
Words: 1K+ Summary:
Marinette wakes up to a bump in the night. It’s her boyfriend (and not in the way you’d think).
Thump.
The sound tore Marinette from her sleep. She shot straight up in bed, frantically scanning the area for danger. With a start, she realized she wasn’t in her room. Memories were returning slowly as she recalled deciding with Adrien to spend the night at his for once, both too tired after the long day to trek the extra few blocks to hers.
She gasped— Adrien. Her hand patted down the area to her immediate left, seeking his warmth where she was used to finding it. A steady rhythm from her heart beat against her rib cage as she turned to see his side of the bed empty.
“Oof,” a soft sigh breathed from the floor.
Marinette was leaning over the edge in a flash, finding her boyfriend rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up.
“Adrien!” she gasped. “What happened? What are you doing?”
His eyes flickered to hers, bright even in the dark, and he chuckled. “I think” —his hand moved to massage his side, low by his hip— “it was a well-timed kick to my side.”
Her heart dropped in her chest. “What?”
He laughed again, pulling himself back onto the bed and taking her into his arms. “What kind of dream were you having, Buginette?” he asked. “Must have been pretty intense.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” she said, pushing against his chest so she could continue looking into his face. Mirth danced through his green eyes. “Are you implying that I kicked you out of the bed?” she asked disbelievingly. “Why are you so calm about it?”
“Oh. It’s not the first time.”
“What?”
Adrien shrugged. “Well, usually, when we’re at your place, I just kinda end up pushed against the wall? The loft has that nice built-in baby gate, lucky for me. This is the first time I’ve actually fallen out.”
Her jaw dropped open. This was mortifying information to receive in the middle of the night. “Adrien,” she said sternly, taking his shoulders in her hands and staring intensely into his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me I kick you every night?”
“It’s not every night,” he replied dismissively. She gave him a look. “Okay, it is most nights, but still! Not every night!”
“I don’t care how often it is!” She shook his shoulders, his body pliantly rocking back and forth with her movements. “Why wouldn’t you tell me so I can stop? I must be ruining your sleep!”
“I don’t mind.” He smiled, the picture of innocence. “I think it’s cute.”
Marinette wanted to growl, but she knew it wouldn’t be nearly as intimidating as she wanted it to with the red she could feel all over her face. She groaned, dragging her hands down her cheeks until the skin stretched. “What’s wrong with you?”
Again, Adrien gathered her in his arms, this time with Marinette accepting the embrace. She curled up against his chest as she felt him press a delicate kiss to the crown of her head. “It’s an honor to be your punching bag,” he joked.
“Adrien,” she groaned, thunking her head against his shoulder, “shut up.”
“Sorry.”
“Wait, no, that makes me feel worse,” she hastened to say. “I need to apologize to you! I’m sorry.”
He chuckled again, his warm breath tickling her forehead as it passed through her hair. “Like I said, I really, really don’t mind.”
“Why don’t you mind?” She pouted, tilting her head up to look at him. “Doesn’t it wake you up?”
“Sometimes, yeah, but–” He sighed as he seemed to look for the right words. His mouth tilted in a half-smile. “I like knowing you’re still there with me.”
All the embarrassment drained out of her as she noticed his tone change. “Do you think I would go somewhere?”
“Technically, no,” he answered honestly, “but sometimes… in the back of my mind…”
She frowned. “You get anxious.”
He took in a breath. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Marinette wrapped her arms around his midsection, pressing her face into his worn cotton t-shirt. He smelled of citrus and the fresh linen scent of her Maman’s favorite laundry detergent, making her smile. He smelled of home.
“I’d never leave you, Adrien,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“Especially not in the middle of the night.”
He laughed. “I know.” His arms tightened around her as he laid their bodies back down against the pillows. “We’re a package deal. A bonded pair.”
“Exactly,” she huffed. Leaning up on one arm, she poked him in the chest. “But you really should have told me I was kicking you in my sleep. I feel like a jerk.”
“A cute jerk.”
“Stop calling it cute!”
He waggled his eyebrows as he grinned at her. “It’s not my fault that everything you do is cute.”
She growled frustratedly. She wanted to be angry, but instead she pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You’re so annoying.”
“Annoying and cute?”
Rolling her eyes, she leaned back onto his chest. “Yes,” she huffed.
Adrien laughed again, the sound reverberating in her eardrum. She loved the quiet moments like this where she could hear everything— his laugh, his breaths, his heart beating in his chest. The arm wrapped around his middle tugged him closer, and in response he squeezed her tighter against him.
“Seriously,” she mumbled, “wake me up next time. I don’t want to kick you out of bed.”
“It’s really not a big deal,” he whispered back. She opened her mouth in protest, but he spoke again before she could, “Sometimes it’s just a little nudge. Like this:” His foot connected with her shin under the blankets, gently pushing against her with featherlight pressure.
“Oh.”
“See? Nothing.”
“But–”
“And the kicking,” he interrupted, knowing exactly what she was going to say, as always, “I don’t mind, because I can always tell when you’re having a dream. And I like knowing that.” His thumb was brushing over the exposed skin on her shoulder, lulling her back towards sleep.
Against the siren song, she shook her head. “Still, if you ever want to wake me up– even just to talk, I want you to wake me up,” she whispered.
“Now, I know that’s sleep-Marinette talking.”
She would have rolled her eyes if she thought he could see it. “Ha ha,” she said sarcastically. “I mean it. I’d gladly lose a couple hours’ sleep for you.” She turned her head to press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Especially knowing you would for me.”
“I would. Anytime.”
“I know.”
“Okay,” he mumbled into her hair, his lips brushing her scalp, “I’ll try not to let you attack me inexorably again.” She heard him breathe deeply, his chest expanding beneath her head.
“You’re lucky I’m so tired right now, kitty cat,” she mumbled, her eyes sliding shut.
“Yeah, I really am. I love you."
"Love you too..." she managed before sleep pulled her back in, warm in Adrien’s arms.
554 notes · View notes
joonapeach · 8 months
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Our Tales are Endless (That's Why I Tell Them) [MLB]
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summary: Marinette lives a simple life - one surrounded by pretty dresses, fresh macaroons, and the calming view of Paris. It's a life she thinks she has always fit in.
And yet sometimes, when a certain boy comes by her shop with a flower and a new adventurous story, she can't help but wonder if there's something else she's missing.
also reposted on ao3
The man is here again and, Marinette notes, he's holding a tulip to his chest today. She can only laugh when she sees him standing outside the glass door of the boutique, looking like a lost stray waiting for an invitation to come in. When he meets her amused gaze, he quickly feigns confidence and gives a charming smile.
She rolls her eyes.
"The boutique is so busy," is the first thing he says when he comes to her at the counter. "For you, my lady," is always the second, with the flower of the day in an extended offering.
Marinette narrows her eyes at the pink petals of the single tulip. She scoffs but takes it from him with no hesitation, of course - the attention she’s been getting from him every few days is both flattering and entertaining in her scheduled life. But to his face, she simply says, "this again?"
"Of course. I picked it out especially for today."
"Really? And why is that?" Marinette asks. There's a smile playing on her lips.
He gives a smile right back. "Tulips symbolize unconditional love. I thought it'd be perfect for you today."
Marinette almost cocks an eyebrow, impressed. He's finally gotten a bit smoother with his lines - usually, she'd have to watch him stumble over meanings and words before adorably offering the flower of the day.
"I'm not ready for you to tell me you love me so early in the morning, Adrien."
He grins boyishly as if expecting that very response. "Oh, but it has nothing to do with me. Isn’t it your maman’s birthday today? The flower symbolizes your unconditional love for her,” he pauses. “But of course, if your first thought is of me with an unconditional love, I can’t complain-”
“Using my maman’s birthday as an excuse to give a flower of unconditional love… don’t think I can’t see right through you, Agreste.”
 “Guilty. But I should remind you.”
“I think I can go a few days without forgetting your professions of love,” Marinette giggles as she carefully sorts through some clothes on a rack.
“There’s no telling with you. You forgot I was your classmate for four years,” he states, leaning over the counter. “Until Alya showed you the yearbooks, you were certain you’d never seen me in your life before.”
“I told you, I was sorry about that!” Marinette huffs. The incident of meeting Adrien for the first time at twenty-five still baffles her. When she laid her eyes on him at Alya’s house party, he’d quickly imprinted in her mind like the image of a beautiful angel and she was certain she’d never seen such a handsome sight before.
Only, apparently, she had. Though no matter how much she strained her mind, she could never recall a single thing about him from her school days.
“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” Adrien laughs. “I don’t think I’m memorable enough.”
Marinette narrows her eyes at the boy. At times, she didn’t know if he was being solely modest or oblivious.
“Don’t you have a class to teach today?” she decides to ask.
He nods, lazily watching her organize dresses with his head in his palm. “I did. But they canceled it because of some gas leak by the Chemistry students.”
“That’s hardly fair. Your poor Physics students have to suffer a canceled class all because of someone else’s inconvenience?”
“Yup. Well, that’s just the way Paris is. Someone else’s minor inconvenience ruining everyone’s day,” he laughs before giving a furtive glance. “Back when we were in school, our classes were canceled every other day too.”
Marinette sighs, trying to conjure a memory in her head. Flashes come, of a classroom, of sitting next to Alya, of shouting at Chloe, of hanging out with Alix and Rose and Nino… but that's where it stops. Sometimes, Marinette thinks she’s really going crazy. If she tries hard enough, she can remember those years of her life between fourteen and twenty four but it never comes easy. It’s almost like a watercolor blur that passes by her eyes too fast to focus on a still image.
“Because of those… akumas, right?” she mumbles. 
“Yup,” Adrien answers. His eyes don’t leave her face when she pauses to recall small details. He’s always patient with her, unlike even Alya who sometimes gets tired of waiting for Marinette to catch up when she talks about old stories.
“How did we get anything done?” Marinette laughs, shaking her head.
“I have no idea either,” Adrien chuckles. “Those were some crazy few years of our lives.”
“Our lives? What about those poor superheroes you talk about every day? I can’t bear to think about how exhausting it must’ve been for them.”
Adrien laughs. “They enjoyed it, I’m sure of it.” He glances at his watch. “Come on, it’s your lunch break soon.”
“Adrien, there are still customers!” Marinette protests, glancing around the shop. Young women roam the small space, eagerly eyeing Marinette’s designs with awe. Marinette’s part-timer, Noelle, rushes between them to make sure they’re all satisfied. While she has it under control, Marinette still gets a thrill from watching customers secretly dote over her clothes.
Her life’s work exists in this little boutique, after all. She knows little outside of fabric and fashion but this world of hers is big enough to sink into forever. Though she sleeps elsewhere, this shop is where she feels like home is. She gets to watch Paris from her counter and be a small piece of the city.
“Noelle’s handling it,” Adrien argues with a pout. “I’ll buy you something nice! I can still use my model status and get us in that restaurant we were talking about last week.”
“You just can’t let go of your teenage model career,” Marinette sighs, putting down a hanger. “I hope you don’t bring it up to your students.”
“They bring it up to me first, actually,” he retorts. “And you know, you were a big fan of my modeling career back in the day.”
“Now I just know you’re trying to plant memories in my head,” Marinette cocks her head back to laugh. She grabs her purse from the counter and gives a quick wave to Noelle. “It won’t work, Adrien.”
“I’m being serious!” he whines, following after her as she walks to the glass door of the shop. “You had my posters!”
“Adrien, my memory isn’t that bad. I did nothing of that sort,” she shakes her head with a laugh. The two step out into the streets of Paris and instantly, their voices become small in the big city’s noise. Marinette smiles.
“This is so unfair,” Adrien grumbles under his breath. His steps slow down to match her pace and he pouts like a child. Marinette fights back a smile at how adorably familiar it feels. She’s really only known him for only a few months though, at moments like these, it wasn’t hard to believe she grew up next to him.
“Don’t sulk, come on,” she pinches his elbow through his dress shirt. “You can tell me one of your superhero stories now.”
Instantly, he brightens. “Aha! I knew you liked hearing them.”
“You’re a good storyteller, I’ll give that to you,” she says. “I’m sure Ladybug and Chat Noir would appreciate a die-hard fan like you carrying on their legacy like this. Except for the parts when you try to tell me they were in love. Somehow, that seems a little off.”
“I’m not lying! I’m certain they were,” he declares.
“Yeah, yeah, get on with it now.”
Adrien clears his throat dramatically and starts a new story. He takes care every time he visits her to never tell repeats. He tells the tales with flair and energy, a big smile on his face at the parts where she laughs and rolls her eyes. Marinette should be used to it by now, the company of this handsome teacher who becomes reduced to a goofy boy when he talks about his love for a bunch of superheroes.
But alas, she still hasn’t gotten used to it. In her routine of a perfect life, Adrien brings something new and makes Marinette wonder about the Paris she loves so dearly. Her Paris is small, peaceful, and beloved but in Adrien’s words, Paris becomes infinite.
Such is the power of stories, she supposes.
*
“What happened here?!” is what Adrien exclaims first when he sees Marinette after a week. “And this is for you, my lady,” he adds, holding a single violet between his fingertips.
“All sold out,” Marinette laughs in disbelief before plucking the flower from his grasp. “And what’s this?’
“All sold out?! How on Earth?” he blinks before glancing at the flower. “Oh and, it symbolizes modesty. For the most modest, talented designer I know.”
Marinette rolls her eyes. Normally, she rejects such heavy praise. Her shop is tiny and she’s a sole designer working at her own pace with small goals that she doesn’t try to see bigger than. But today, she feels almost worthy to hear such words.
Her shop is empty. Not just of people but clothes too. Not a single piece remains on the rack.
“Some celebrity wore an item of mine and fans and press came flooding in. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people in the shop.”
Adrien’s eyes are bright. “Marinette, that’s amazing!”
She chuckles. “I know. I sold what I usually sell in weeks all in a morning,” she grins. “But it was also a bit scary. I mean, I’ve never had so many eyes on me.”
“Well, you should,” he retorts instantly. “You’re a born star. I think all of Paris would be in love with you if they knew you.”
“You’re a good talker, Adrien,” Marinette laughs. “Today’s my treat, by the way. Since there’s nothing to do till I get new pieces from the manufacturers, the shop is going to have to be closed and I’m thinking of taking the weekend off to stay with my parents.”
“You’ll be gone?” he frowns.
“For a weekend at most, don’t worry!” Marinette rolls her eyes. “That’s why I’m giving you my day. We can go anywhere and you can talk my ear off about anything you like.”
The mischievous smile Adrien gives only slightly alarms her. “Are you really giving me full reign over your life?”
“Something about the way you look makes me hesitant to comply,” she says with narrowed eyes. “But since I’ll be unavailable for a few days, I have no choice.”
Adrien continues grinning, seemingly bursting with energy with how he jumps up and down. “Great. I’m thinking shopping, walk by Seine, dinner, ice cream from Andre’s and ending the night by the tower.”
Marinette finds herself amused by the enthusiasm. Despite being twenty six, the same as her, Adrien always holds onto some kind of youthful zest to himself. Marinette can’t find herself getting enough of it, even when she has to always be the rational one when his vigor takes too far.
How does someone with such a colorful life like spending hours out of his convenience with someone like her? Marinette feels as though she pales in comparison to the interesting things she could tell him. There is only so much someone can hear about fabrics and a bakery-life youth.
“Marinette?” Adrien waves his hand in front of her face with a boyish smile. “We’re already behind schedule by like three items. Let’s go.”
She can shelve her thoughts about her boring life for later. If Adrien hasn’t complained yet about the quality of her companionship, she needn't worry about a problem that wasn’t confirmed. She remembers spending much of her teenage years doing that – about what problems she wasn’t sure – but she didn’t need a repeat.
“I already went ahead and invited Alya and Nino by the way,” he adds as they push out the door. The bell chimes and Marinette locks up. “I think they’re with some people already but I said we’ll join.”
“Sounds good to me,” Marinette says with a smile as they walk out. Her arm finds itself linking around Adrien’s in a swift motion, though Marinette doesn’t remember consenting to her body wanting to do that. Adrien says nothing and Marinette remarks again how natural it feels for her to be so comfortable around him. At times, she thinks her instincts know something she doesn’t. 
*
Adrien’s loud laugh mixes with Alya’s as the two put down a card. The table erupts into a groan. Juleka, beside Marinette, is especially disappointed.
“What happened to the truce?” she says, crossing her arms in a sulk.
“There’s no truce in Uno when it comes to these two,” Marinette sighs though she can’t beat the smile tugging at her cheeks. The two winners fight no urge in showing off their victory, with roaring laughters and smug comments. The sight should really upset Marinette more, rubbing salt into her loss, but she finds herself enjoying how gleefully the two celebrate. 
“You two should be banned from pairing,” Max heaves a long sigh as he puts his and Rose’s cards down defeatedly.
“Adrien’s the only one who gets the game,” Alya retorts with a high five angled his way. Adrien’s movements are slow as he raises his arm to reciprocate her gesture, a sure sign that the alcohol of the night was hitting him. Marinette quite likes the way Adrien is when he’s had a little to drink or when he’s around others. He’s unlike the man who appears in her shop, far more lax and unfocused on his words.
It’s a strange sight that even Marinette finds hard to explain to herself. There’s always a noticeable difference between the gentle, patient Adrien Marinette finds herself with and the easy-going, laid-back Adrien around friends from school or anyone who isn’t Marinette. It’s not something she’s worked up the courage to ask him about, but at times like these, it’s something that makes her wonder.
“You were never this mischievous in school, Adrien!” Rose says chirpily. Adrien laughs, rubbing the nape of his neck. The tie around his collar’s been loosened up throughout the night and his shirt sleeves are pulled back to his elbows. Marinette hasn’t gotten in the habit of seeing him with his teacher uniform so relaxed. Even when he visits her store, he’s always in pristine condition. She assumed it was his model upbringing.
But he looks different now, and she can’t stop staring at him. His smile is lazy, his hair’s been brushed through so many times by his fingers that it’s sweeping all over his face. The sight gives Marinette’s stomach a sinking feeling she can’t quite place.
“He’s become a whole new person since then,” Max grins. “Shed the model past behind.”
Admittedly, Marinette has searched up said model's past. A strong shudder of shock passed through her as she familiarized herself with eighteen year old Adrien Agreste. At that moment, she finally understood what Alya had meant about Marinette, how could you forget Adrien? 
Because really, how could she forget Adrien? How can she not remember sharing a space with a boy like this for years on end in school? It’s hard matching the young model to the man she was friends with today and at the most inconvenient of moments, Marinette finds her brain reminding her of that. She finds his flirtatious smiles from magazine covers appearing in her mind, his humble interviews repeating in her ears, his beautiful photoshoots plastered to her brain. 
“Wouldn’t suit a school teacher to pursue modeling forever,” Adrien simply answers with a shrug. Marinette doesn’t remember Adrien well, but she knows him well to know a practiced nonchalance behind the answer. Because Adrien Agreste didn’t just stop modeling to spare the hearts of young girls in Paris - he stopped modeling because he didn’t have to anymore.
With the death of his father came the death of his brand. And as per Alya’s recounts, with the death of his father came the last time many of them saw Adrien again for many years.
Marinette coughs in an attempt to divert attention. “Let’s stick to topics I remember,” she says teasingly and the others instantly burst into loud conversation. 
“Marinette, you must be faking it,” one of them says. 
Another interrupts with, “you really remember everyone but Adrien?!”
“That’s not true. She doesn’t remember some other memories too,” Alya corrects. “Marinette, do you remember the time we went to the wax museum in school?” Marinette shakes her head. “See!”
“Forget Adrien!” Nino interjects with animated surprise. “Marinette, I can’t believe you just woke up one day and forgot all about Ladybug and Chat Noir!”
At the mention of them, Marinette finds herself glancing at Adrien. It’s a natural response, really, given that he can’t ever stop talking about them, so much so that Marinette associates the two latex-wearing superheroes with him. But when Marinette’s eyes meet Adrien’s, she sees a strange wistful smile. 
He’s looking at her, but not really. His eyes are glazing right over her, as if he’s looking through her. Marinette is tempted to turn around as if behind her, she’ll find what’s pulling Adrien’s gaze. 
“Alya’s life was Ladybug too,” Juleka points out. “Up until the defeat of Hawkmoth, of course.”
Hawkmoth. The name sounds almost childish to Marinette each time she hears it, but to the others, it delivers chills. There’s a lifetime of worry attached to the name, much of which Marinette can hardly recall. That’s the gift of forgetting… she’s forgotten not only memories, but nightmares. 
The table becomes suddenly tense and Marinette feels partly responsible for driving the conversation to it. “I can’t remember them. But they sound great,” she tries to offer. 
It does little for anyone. “Oh, they were great. I miss Ladybug,” Alya sighs and slumps over a glass. “And I miss being a kid. It was the best part of my life, running after her. I was so passionate about reporting then.”
“I know what you mean,” Rose mumbles. “Life was so exciting even when I was scared… it just felt different especially when Ladybug was around. Did I tell you guys about the time I got the Pig Miraculous?”
“Yes, Rose!” A simultaneous answer comes from the table. Marinette is the only one to remain silent.
“We grew up so fast. I never imagined we would one day,” says Juleka. “Everyday was just getting by and saving each other.”
“There were a few close calls,” Nino points out. 
“A few’s putting it lightly,” Alya laughs. “I didn’t think I was going to graduate school without a day of peace. That, and seeing Marinette show up to anything on time.”
“I didn’t think I was going to graduate without Max finally trying to give up on his robots,” Nino snorts. “I need some money for the therapy I’m taking because of your failed robots threatening my life, by the way.”
“Well now, how much do you need?” Max pretends to sift through his wallet.
“Rob him well, Nino. Mr. Software Engineer’s got all the money we need,” Adrien laughs before having his neck wrapped with Alya’s forearm.
“Oh, yeah? This coming from France's highest paid model back in school?!” she scoffs. “You couldn’t spare a note then!”
“Hey! I didn’t control my money then.”
“No, but I did see you buy Nino a whole PlayStation for his birthday!”
“Alya dude, he missed my birthday! It was a forgiveness present! Ask Max… right, Max?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny.”
“Max!”
“You didn’t defend me in front of Damocles when we broke the beaker in class!”
“You know perfectly well Alya got you on camera. There was no point in me or Adrien defending anyone!”
“Damn you Alya, and your reporter instinct.”
Marinette can’t describe the feeling that passes through her now, only that she hopes no one else ever has to feel it. All her best friends are here, and yet, they’re not. Or maybe, that’s not it. All her best friends are here, and she’s the one who’s not with them. 
There’s not a word she can bring herself to say that might make sense in their conversation. Everyone’s talking fast, exchanging anecdotes and inside jokes too quick for her to catch on and she can’t follow a single thing. This is her life and these are supposed to be her people.
But they aren’t at times like these. On occasions like this one, Marinette’s a floating body in Paris, belonging nowhere and everywhere all at once. Her mind’s left the cafe and it’s circling in the night sky, looking over pedestrians and cars, trying to find something hidden. Her eyes are peering into the streets and curves of the city. She’s listening to the sounds of what it means to jump in the sky at night, and she’s searching for something. 
Nowhere feels right in this city at all. No crevice of this place feels like home sometimes. Her shop is the safest haven, but even on the worst of nights, Marinette feels some itching urge inside her to burst through that door too and keep running.
What am I looking for? What’s out there for me?
“Marinette?” Her name arrives to her in a soft whisper and Marinette is jolted back to this moment. The cafe, the table, the smell of alcohol and the loud conversation.
She blinks. Adrien is peering at her with concern, a deep-set line decorating the space between his brows now. She hates to think of his worry being from her and quickly gives a smile.
“Are you alright?” he says.
She nods. “Just got stuffy there for a second.” 
His voice reduces to only being audible to her. “We can leave early, if you’d like.”
A rejection is already at the tip of Marinette’s tongue. Everyone was having so much fun, laughing and reminiscing, looking back on the youth they had. It isn’t fair for her to spoil that just because she couldn’t remember growing up as well as they did.
But a second glance at all her friends kills the rejection. The longer she stays here, the easier it’d be for her head to slip away somewhere else. She doesn’t want to be somewhere else right now. She wants to be here.
“Okay.”
That’s all it takes Adrien to give a comforting smile and get up from the table. Everyone protests, unwilling to part from him but he gives them a charming grin and promises to catch up again. Marinette doesn’t miss the way that everyone seems less enthusiastic about not wanting her to go, instead bidding her with a soft goodbye and pleas to take care. 
It makes her feel like no one understands what’s going on in her head at all. But when Adrien grabs her wrist and leaves for the door, Marinette feels slightly less alone.
*
“A daisy for you, my lady,” Adrien holds the plucked flower between his fingers. 
“Adrien! You just stole that from the flower shop!”
He grins with glee, sparing only a short look behind him to the closing shop. “They’ll hardly miss a single daisy!” he says before bursting into laughter. “Imagine if they do though. That’d be funny. A missing poster with this little guy!”
His steps are all over the place, his hair tangling itself by the second and Marinette fights a smile. “Hey Adrien?”
“Yeah?”
“You know you’re drunk, right?” she giggles. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize how drunk you were back at the cafe.”
Adrien’s arm wraps around a street lamp and he swings around it in a rather dramatic fashion. Marinette pauses and waits for him to finish, though she can’t deny she enjoys watching how smooth his movements are, despite being drunk. She thinks he’s going to fall each time from one messy step and yet, he always catches himself. 
How does a high school Physics teacher find himself with reflexes like that? 
“I’m not drunk. Only slightly tipsy, like every good Parisian out there,” he grins before tipping his head forward. “You’re not accepting my flower! Accept my flower, my lady.”
Everything Adrien does resembles something of a movie – one of the black and white ones, with rain and umbrellas and piano music. That’s what Marinette thinks when she looks at him now. It feels as though Marinette can take a few steps back and put him on a screen to watch him forever.
“How can I?” she smiles. “You didn’t tell me what it means.”
“Daisy… uh, daisy…” he stumbles. “I didn't prepare this one!”
Marinette laughs. “Are you sure that’s even a daisy?”
Adrien sighs. “I’m no good. I should return this to the shop. They’re probably looking for it.”
He lets go of the street lamp and swiftly jumps over a puddle on the ground. Marinette quickly reaches for his hand before he can maneuver himself any further. “Wait! I want it!”
“Really?”
“Of course,” she nods and reaches for his fingers. “I’m keeping it.”
Adrien blinks, staring at the missing flower in his hand. “What do you do with them?” he asks. “The flowers I give you.”
“I keep them safe. Don’t worry,” Marinette says. She intends to say more but a blinding light in the sky suddenly appears and trips her from composure. It peeks through the gaps of buildings and above their rooftops. 
“Oh. The Eiffel Tower lights,” Adrien mutters softly. Marinette glances up and sees the upper half of the triangle structure blink with fluttering white lights. They decorate the sky with a kind of magic Marinette isn’t used to seeing. After dusk, she’s usually back home or tucked away in her bed, not out prancing about in Paris.
Safe to say, the sight mesmerizes her. 
“So pretty,” she breathes out. Momentarily, she hears peace in her head. She feels her wandering mind of the night stop and pause here, to watch the lights. “Does this really happen every night?”
“Yes,” Adrien answers. “You don’t remember?”
She hates this question. She’s heard it so often now that she hates it so much. It taints every new wonder of her life for her. It taints the memory of gazing at Adrien for the first time and feeling bewitched. It taints her small, everyday thoughts about whether the top of Paris buildings really are that dirty or how it feels to fall from a height. For every wonder she voices aloud, she receives this as her answer.
“Remember what?” Marinette responds like clockwork.
Adrien shrugs. “Ah… I don’t know. Sorry. I don’t know what I expected you to remember,” he says. “You must hate this question.”
I do. “Did I see these lights a lot before when I was younger?”
Adrien’s expression seems to be caught between confusion and hesitation. “Yeah. Almost every night,” he says. “You loved them. You’d always try to get the best view.”
“Did I watch them with you?” Marinette frowns.
“Sometimes,” he nods with a smile. “I would be too busy looking at you when you did though.”
The words send a flush to Marinette’s cheeks. She tries to imagine her younger self with… Adrien’s younger self, and that makes matters worse. Model Adrien Agreste.
Her feelings towards Adrien don’t add up all the time but she understands this – both her, and her younger self, share a deep appreciation for the beauty that is this man. It makes Marinette shiver to her spine to think of how beautiful he must’ve looked when they stared at the Eiffel Tower together before. She wishes, more than anything, that she could remember how he did. 
“Why are you making that face?” Adrien says and cocks a brow.
“What face?”
“That- that one! Right there.”
Marinette quickly wipes any expression she can imagine off. She looks at him with a rehearsed coolness. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Adrien’s lips slowly curl into a grin before breaking into laughter. “You would do things like that back in school, you know?” he continues laughing with a wispy look in his eyes. “The very same expressions. I can never figure out what they mean.”
Marinette smiles as if she holds a clandestine secret to herself. “Nevermind that,” she says before turning back to the tower. “Tell me about the times we watched the lights together.”
Adrien pauses, humming in deliberation. “I’ll tell you something more interesting. One time, Ladybug and Chat Noir were up against this akumatized villain who was this thief who wanted to steal the Eiffel Tower.”
“Isn't that from a movie?”
“That guy wanted to steal a moon, Marinette!” Adrien answers, exasperated as Marinette laughs. “Anyway, he just wanted more than anything to have the Eiffel Tower all to himself. I assume he had his heart broken or broke some action figure, or something or the other. Who knows with these akumatized villains?”
“Hey, be nice to them! It wasn’t their fault.”
“Yeah, yeah. So he had this bag as his super power and he could just… stuff things into them! Imagine. He’d put the pouch by a building and it’d be sucked in, like a little souvenir. He was making his way to the Eiffel Tower, bit by bit, while stopping at every landmark on the way to suck it into his pouch.”
“What did he get?”
“Well, he managed to get the Arc de Triomphe, half of the shops on Champs Elysee, and get this – he was about to suck up all the Seine!”
Marinette gasps. “How could he do that?”
“He was trying to get the water out! At the last second, Ladybug pulled him out of there but the water overflowed the sidewalks,” he sighs. “But because of that, she wasn’t able to hold onto him. She sank with these waves of the river that started streaming down the path ways.”
Marinette’s eyes are big now. “He got away?!”
“Yep. The man bounced back easily and ran. He was on his way to the tower now, since he knew he wouldn’t have her on his tail – pun intended.”
“Where was Chat Noir in all this?”
“Well, he was waiting at the Eiffel Tower! You see, Ladybug and him had a plan. Chat Noir was going to cataclysm the tower to distract our villain so Ladybug would be able to capture him. But, that didn’t quite work. So instead, Chat Noir improvised,” Adrien takes a dramatic pause. Marinette knows he quite enjoys her investment in his stories, but doesn’t hide her anticipation. “The villain came running towards the bottom of the tower. Chat Noir saw him at the last second, and that magic pouch was opening. The tower was already slowly starting to suck into it…”
Marinette blinks early. "What?! So what did he do next? Did Chat Noir cataclysm the tower onto the city?!"
Adrien grins, satisfied by her reaction. "Nope. Even better. Ladybug appeared at that very second and quickly decided that she’d wrap her yo-yo around the Eiffel Tower before climbing it-"
"She climbed it?!" Marinette's mouth gapes wide open. "But that's so dangerous!"
"Well, she was used to that kind of thing. Don't you think you'd climb a tower if it risked the lives of civilians?"
At this, Marinette bursts out laughing. "I'm sure there's hundreds of people in Paris who'll climb a building, Adrien, but not me. Don't you see how clumsy I am?" she shook her head in amusement. "I would never do that kind of thing."
Adrien doesn't respond for a few beats too long and when Marinette turns to look at him, she catches a glimpse of pain. She blinks, quickly to capture the sight, but when she looks again, he's looking at her normally. The flash of his expression still disturbs her.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he smiles, almost too quickly for Marinette to be convinced. "I was just suddenly thinking about work."
“Sobering up now?” she laughs. “Come on, finish the story!”
He takes a breath and continues, “yeah. It turned out his pouch was already so full from water and everything else that when Ladybug tugged on the tower with her yo-yo, it bounced him back on the ground. He ended up being caught.”
“That’s an anti-climatic ending!” Marinette remarks, though she’ll admit, she loved the story from start to end. “You lost your energy there.”
“Sorry. I remembered something I had to do for the students next week,” he says, rubbing his eyes with two fingers. His shoulders slump down as if it’s hard to even hold himself up now and his voice is low.
Marinette nods in understanding. "Ah... work. You know, I still don't understand why you're a Physics teacher. Don't you think you'd be great as a storyteller? With how creative and passionate you are about these old superheroes."
Adrien shrugs. "I don't know. Sometimes people don't end up doing what they're supposed to. I once knew a girl who wanted to save the world forever. Now, I don't know if that's something she's even thought twice about."
Marinette hums. "Well, saving the world forever sounds like a big commitment," she says. "Is she at least happy now with what she changed to do?"
When Marinette meets Adrien's eyes, he's already looking at her. It's one of those looks, the ones he gives when he thinks she isn't looking, where he only stares and stares straight at her as if searching for something. She wonders what it is he's looking so intently for. She doesn't know if she has the answers to any of the questions for the universe he's carrying with him.
"Yeah," Adrien finally answers. The smallest of smiles tugs at his lips but Marinette knows the look hasn't dissipated from his eyes. He's still somewhere far away from her, in his thoughts and burdens. But still, he lets her know he's with her by squeezing her hand. "I think she is."
*
Marinette’s childhood bedroom has remained unchanged since the day she moved out – a blessing, now that she hardly remembers what it was like to live here.
It’s through her childhood bedroom that Marinette rediscovers herself. Her last few visits have told her that she went to a lot of places with her friends back in school – from New York, to Shanghai, to London – and that she had a lot of packaged men’s items in gift wrapping and also that she used to really like a spotted red and black pattern in fashion. 
Of course, none of these things make sense to Marinette now. She takes in each fact and story about her younger self as if someone would take in stories of a stranger. But it nevertheless is fascinating to discover who she was. 
There are things that remain the same, and those are what give Marinette the most solace. She can see designs her teenage self did for a clothing boutique, a dream she always had. She can see drawings of baked goods, and collectible little toys, and bits and bobs of fabric stuffed into drawers. She laughs when she finds more evidence of how always design-obsessed she was. These aren’t memories she can’t recall but it’s fun to remember either way.
“Marinette,” her mother’s voice comes from below the bedroom floor panel. “Is that you?!”
“Yes, maman!”
Her parents' beaming faces pop up through the ground. Marinette can easily picture the same sight, just ten years younger. It seems that not only has her room remained unchanged but her parents too. 
This place is frozen in time, unmoving from who she was as a child. That’s what Alya always says – that everyone’s lives have changed, and the world has spun around completely, and yet in a little bakery by the corner of their old school, a piece of the past remains.
“Surprise!” Marinette grins.
“Oh honey. We weren’t expecting you,” her father says, pushing himself up to the floor. When he envelopes her into a hug, she’s hit with the smell of dough. It smells like home. 
“Well… the shop’s sold out!” she bursts into excitement. “I gave Noelle the days off while I re-design and I can restock.”
Her parents squeal higher than her. They clap their hands like children and give the most delighted of smiles. “Marinette! That’s incredible!”
“This calls for some fresh biscuits, coming right to you,” her father winks. “Our sold out designer needs some sugar for her redesigning!”
“That’d be great, actually,” Marinette smiles. 
“I cleaned out some of your things from the storage by the way. They’re all on the desk,” her mom adds. “Go through it when you have the time.”
“Already started on it!” Marinette nods and pushes back to her desk in the wheely chair. Her main goal is to leave this room with fresh new designs but everything she’s come up with so far on this desk only appears to her like a rehashed version of all that she’s sold. Her parents wish her luck and pop down to the bakery, leaving her to work.
Marinette spends hours on that childhood desk, though she finds nothing reasonable in any of her drafting. Being a designer and small business owner is a lot less like she imagined it to be when she sat on this table as a teen, she’s sure. Back then, designing clothes was just one of Marinette’s many activities of the day and she would find inspiration as she lived her life.
Now that designing clothes is all that Marinette has to do in her day, she has nothing else she can escape to. A hobby turned into a full-time career is a dream, but it isn’t so easy. It isn’t small bursts of inspiration and a fun activity. It’s long hours and creative slumps and the biggest part of who she is.
She sighs. “I’m getting nowhere,” she scribbles all over the paper she spent the last half hour on. This isn’t Marinette’s first creative block, though it is her most frustrating one yet. There’s nothing she can find to pick apart in her mind to put to the page or seek a spark from. 
Sometimes, when she tries really hard, she feels like she catches a string of inspiration. But when she tugs on that, it breaks apart. Something stops it from ever reaching her, like a block of hard metal wood or the force of the Earth in her brain. 
It’s like something is stopping me from digging deeper.
She wishes she could just give up and take a break – but she can’t do that now, not when it’s her job to churn out designs. Whether or not she wants to, she will have something by the end of today. 
It takes a few more attempts of back and forth for her to give up entirely for the night. Her wrist is aching, her eyes blurry and her head aches. I can’t do this, she groans as her head hits the desk. Beside her, in careful piles are folders and files that her mother had dug out from the storage of the apartment.
Her finger traces each one carefully. Some she recognizes, others are like unfamiliar memorabilia. The sight of so many collected books and folders from the years reminds her to dig out her current notebook. Her hand fishes through her handbag in haste, searching for something, while her other hand opens up to a page.
“Found it,” she mumbles as she fetches the plastic bag out. Inside, carefully wrapped in tissue is the daisy from last night. She removes it with practiced precision and gently presses it to the page, where dozens of flowers have been flattened and glued. “A new one to the collection,” she mutters with a soft smile.
She closes the book, ready to put it with the rest of her items. A sketchbook towards the bottom of the pile catches her attention, one that she’s never seen before. 
“My old sketchbook?” she wonders as her fingers reach for it, sandwiched between other items. A sudden curiosity comes to her and she imagines a gold mine of designs from her younger self inside the book. She wouldn’t plagiarize from her teenage imagination, of course not… but it wouldn’t hurt to look there for inspiration, would it?
The sketchbook has a black rim and white spots decorate the pink cover. Marinette unclasps the lock on the cover and opens up to the first page – a drawing of her old school.
“Wow,” she mutters to herself. It feels strange to look back at something that had once upon a time been a daily view for her. Each day seems long and yet, when Marinette turns around to see how much life she’s lived, it’s as though the time has sped by in a blink.
Carefully, she flips through the pages. There’s drawings of baked goods and animals, sketches of her friends, more spotted black and red patterns and she even finds some dresses. She gawks at each design in awe. She can’t even remember putting her pencil to paper to come up with these.
There’s dresses with flowy skirts, ones with corset tops, a few experimental designs with all sorts of cuts and fitting. No one design is the same. Anything Marinette’s put to the page reveals a new idea, as if she was just brimming with them. I was so creative.
Her eyes pause on them as if she’s reading the design. How could she come up with this? Usually, creatives should find their past work mediocre and their most present creations as masterpieces. Marinette sees the opposite. Her past work shows a life lived, a masterpiece skilled in experimenting and innovation. She almost feels ashamed for what she’s selling now – bland designs that can hardly compare.
I should try something like this again, she thinks to herself at each design. She picks out the parts she likes most, thinking of how to bring them to her most current designs. Her fingers keep flipping through the book, desperate to find more and more of her old work. Her hands freeze as the designs stop appearing from a certain page.
“What is this?” she murmurs, scanning through the next few pages. There’s no more designs now. It’s all the same thing over and over again. She bursts out laughing.
There are doodles of a boy dressed in all black. He crouches on balconies and hangs from railings in backgrounds of a dark night’s sky. The only colors on the pages that he appears on are the green of his eyes, and the gold of the bell around his neck. 
Marinette frowns. This character is unfamiliar to her, and doesn’t appear in any of the earlier pages of her sketchbook. Though, from the moment he’s on one page, it seems as though every page is now about him.
“Who are you?” Marinette’s eyes narrow. On one page, she finally sees it.
Sitting atop messy blonde hair are two… ears? They poke out like horns and Marinette peers at the peculiar sight. A long belt wraps around the boy’s legs.
Oh. You’re a cat.
Her eyes can’t get enough of the drawings. Each one is carefully drawn and colored in, some with watercolor paint while other with color pencils. The settings of each are different too. She’s drawn him sitting with a sunset, laying atop the Eiffel Tower, posing on a bridge.
In some, Marinette’s drawn him with a smile, and in others, he’s focused and looks out away. It isn’t till she comes across a drawing of him fighting a monster that Marinette realizes who has been filling her childhood sketchbook.
“Chat Noir?” she calls out, as if this mysterious superhero would answer from the pages. Her voice shakes and her hand trembles as she flips the page. This time, air sharply leaves her lungs in a gasp.
Chat Noir is sitting on the balcony outside Marinette’s room, his legs comfortably sprawled on the ledge. His eyes glint with mischief and Marinette can tell the care with which this image was drawn. She rubs her finger and feels the page worn out, as if she’d drawn over and over and erased a hundred times to get this particular mouth correct. 
“So this is what you look like,” Marinette whispers to herself. She’s searched his photos up many times, though each time she looked away, his face would disappear from her mind instantly. Trying to hold onto him was like trying to hold onto a gust of wind. She would think she had it and it would be gone in an instant.
And so, each time she looks at Chat Noir, it’s like looking at him for the first time. Though, seeing Chat Noir in her notebooks feels oddly different to seeing photos of him on the Internet. The drawings imprint in her mind and Marinette wonders… why did she draw him so much?
Where did these images of him come from to her? Marinette knows herself and she knows she’s never enjoyed drawing people that much, always opting more for scenery and faceless figures wearing designs. There’s always something about trying to capture someone’s eyes, the curve of their lips, the shape of their nose, that Marinette finds too tedious. It takes too much love and attention to put someone to page.
But Chat Noir is on her pages, and not just a few times. He fills a book of pages.
Marinette gulps and her head spins as though she’s jumping up and down in her room. Did she imagine this boy on her balcony? Or was she drawing from memory?
No, it couldn’t be from memory. This is surely all Marinette’s imagination… Why would a superhero from her childhood be sitting on her balcony? 
“Ah,” she exhales in a breath. “My head is killing me.”
She pushes the notebook away and climbs to her bed. Each movement feels like it’s taking an eon, like her body is battling an invisible force against her. It takes only a few seconds for her to fall asleep after that and remember nothing from the rest of the night.
But when she wakes in the morning, she is certain that she remembers wishing that Chat Noir were still here, prancing around the city, so that she could see him again. 
*
“What’s got you so distracted today?” is the first thing Adrien says the next week, followed by “a sunflower, for how much I adore you.”
“I’m not distracted,” Marinette blinks through a haze. Her hand is lingering on a hanger and she’s incredibly slow this morning. It’s the worst morning for her to not be in top shape, considering she has boxes of items from the manufacturers to put on the shelves. 
Adrien glances around. “Where’s Noelle?”
“I told her to take a break and come back later. I didn’t feel well enough to unbox all this,” Marinette sighs. She reaches for the sunflower and holds the stem carefully. “Thank you.”
“Are you sick? Too much sugar with the Dupain-Chengs?”
She laughs. “I’m sure you’re jealous.”
“Oh, I am. You get to go home and visit a bakery,” Adrien scoffs. “Some of us have it too good in life.”
“Adrien, you were a teen model.”
“Irrelevant,” he rolls his eyes. “So, you’re sick?”
“No, silly,” Marinette laughs at Adrien feigning a dramatic covering of his mouth. “I’m perfectly fine. The weekend was great and my parents… well, you know they are.”
“Force-feeding the most delicious things ever?” Adrien drops his head. “Sorry to hear about that.”
Marinette hums with a smile, turning back to the hanger on the shelf. She’s not being entirely honest though, not with herself nor with Adrien. The weekend was great but it was not without some strange revelation that has shaken up Marinette’s life.
It shouldn’t matter now what Marinette was as a child – what things she drew, what things she had interest in. It’s been years since she was that young for it to really matter.
And yet, when Marinette finds herself losing herself in some task, she’s jolted back to thinking about it like a sharp zap to her body. She sees the drawing come to life in her mind, each time a little bit more real than the last. It’s becoming hard to tell how much of the image she’s seeing is from the drawings and how much of it is becoming a reality… a memory of sorts.
Even now, as she’s away from her purse at the shop counter, her fingers are itching to go back. She wants to rip open her purse, pull out the sketchbook and flip through the drawings again. Bewitched is the word she could use to describe herself right now.
Adrien begins talking about his day and how work went for him. Marinette can only half listen, coherently understanding snippets of the stories while nodding through whatever she couldn’t. She thinks she’s doing a pretty good job at fooling him till he finally says, “Marinette, you’re not listening, are you?”
“Hm? What? I am!”
Adrien smiles, almost pitifully. “Was your weekend really okay?”
Marinette presses her lips. “It was… fine. I don’t really have that many new designs and I feel like a failure because going back home made me realize that… my work was so much better before?” she says. “I was so creative, I had so much life and I was pulling ideas out of everywhere. Coming to terms with that is a bit hard. That and…” she pauses.
“And?”
She plasters a smile. “And realizing some strange things about my childhood self,” she says in a light tone. She wants to tell Adrien, but she needs him to make it easier for her.
“Oh really?” Adrien grins. “Like your obsessive crush on me?”
“Not quite… I think- I think I had a crush on Chat Noir when I was a teenager,” she says, quickly forcing a laugh to make the words feel easy. “I can’t remember anything about liking him but… yeah. Teenage me had a thing for black cats and leather jumpsuits. Who would’ve thought, right?”
Marinette says every word with an air of nonchalance, as if learning the very existence of this love she had for a boy she never remembered meeting was something of a joke. It’s not. It’s been tearing at her all night and all morning but she can’t bring herself to tell Adrien how serious it is.
When she looks at him, it doesn’t look like she has to.
Adrien’s pale and unmoving. She almost wonders if she’d said something completely different by his solemn expression.
“Adrien, what’s wrong?”
He swallows, glancing around the shop. “What… what made you think that? That you liked Chat Noir?”
She can see through the forced smile he’s giving and she wonders if he can see through her forced casualness. “Well… I found some old sketchbooks. I haven’t found any inspiration for designs lately so I thought I’d try to see what stuff I used to like and… he was all over the pages,” she laughs. “Every few pages, I used to sketch him. Sitting on rooftops, hanging off the Eiffel Tower, even on the balcony of my parents’ bakery.”
“You drew him?” his eyes narrow, almost accusingly. “You hate drawing people.”
Marinette can say nothing to say that. She gives a resigned shrug and exhales a chuckle. Speaking the words out loud has not made anything easier. If anything, they seem to make things worse… Adrien isn’t taking the news so well.
His hands tremble, his eyes alternate between a wide stare and rapid blinking. Marinette even notices his lip quiver, a strange reaction to what she considers to be a laughable story for others. If Alya had been the one Marinette told this to, she’s sure her friend would mock her for eternity. In fact, that’s how she expected anyone of her friends to take to the reveal.
Adrien is an outlier. His response heightens the caving feeling of Marinette’s lungs. 
“It’s not a big deal,” she lies. “He was a celebrity. I’m sure I’m not the only one who had an embarrassing celebrity crush on a boy I never spoke a word to.”
Those aren’t the correct words to say, Marinette instantly realizes. Adrien winces and his hands tighten into fists. Marinette isn’t sure if she’s imagining it, but Adrien seems further away now. He’s taking a few steps back. 
“I have to leave,” his words come out in a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Adrien-”
He doesn’t wait to hear it. When the bell above the door rings after he paces out, away from her, Marinette is left alone in the shop to wonder what just happened in a few moments alone. Now, with not another soul nor even a single dress in the empty shop, Marinette feels as though her being here is wrong. For the first time, she thinks this is not where she should be at all. 
*
The taste of the air on the ground is different to the taste of the air up in the sky.
Down on the ground, when you run, your lungs pant and desperately try to catch something to breathe. Up above, on building rooftops and floating through the sky, the air is neverending. You never have to fight for a moment to breathe.
This is why Adrien has always preferred being above to on the ground. For when he was Chat Noir, he never had this aching feeling tearing his body apart as he ran away from anything. No, being Chat Noir was freeing. Being Chat Noir was a dream.
As he runs now, pain throbs at his chest and Adrien can’t breathe. His greatest wish is to be Chat Noir again, just to stop how unpleasant it is to run from Marinette. But he can’t do that. It’s been years since he’s seen the world through the eyes of Chat Noir, and the world has seen Chat Noir.
His human body has limitations and he falls to the dirty ground of Paris, feeling his palms collide with the pavement. He cries out loudly, screeching in pain as he can’t find it in himself to run further away. Few onlookers on the street watch Adrien with great interest.
His existence has always felt like a jail. When he was younger, he was gawked at and probed, as his father’s prodigy. Adrien didn’t have a single ounce of himself just for himself. His one salvation came through a life as Chat Noir, but even that was not without its imprisonment. He was to remain under a mask, never revealing his true self, even when it could kill him to do so. Even when his father had to die at his own hands, he could take off the mask.
And when he finally could, he discovered that living without the mask was not the rescue he was hoping for. So much time had elapsed since Adrien had become Chat Noir, so much of his life’s experiences and self invested in Chat Noir, that he could not be one without the other. 
Of course, there was a way to make this easier, once. There was someone who could get him through understanding how to live.
But there’s no one now. Adrien is without family, without Plagg, without Ladybug.
“Adrien?” a worried voice cries out. “Oh my God, Adrien!”
Adrien sees a paper bag of items drop to the ground. His head is cradled by someone but Adrien sees a blurry image of the person holding him. The face blends together like watercolor but his eyes are drawn to the ears. Red and black spotted earrings.
“Oh,” he breathes. “Noelle.”
Her face comes to his vision. Noelle’s hair falls over his face and she quickly tucks it behind her ear. The earrings stand out on her like a bright color on a blank canvas. When Adrien saw Ladybug wear them, they never seemed to draw his attention but with Noelle, he supposes it’s her blonde hair that makes them pop out. Whenever he teases her about it, she protests and promises that she will be sure to dye her hair once her mother allows and she’s an adult.
“Adrien,” she frowns in concern. Her hand wraps around his shoulder and helps him rise from the ground. She looks at him with so much worry but all Adrien can focus on are the red earrings that remind him of his suffering. "Did you have a bad day again?"
There are no words, Adrien thinks, in any language that can come close to explaining the pain in his chest. The pain of falling so irrevocably in love with someone and having them snatched so fiercely out of your hands that it burns where you once touched them and it stings when you see them smile. There is no pain to compare to this. Losing his Ladybug isn't like losing a friend or a family member. It feels like a part of Adrien is no longer with him.
"Noelle," he cries. "Noelle."
He feels her hand press lightly against his neck. This scene is nothing new to her, and so she is able to listen to him sob and never judge him for it. While there’s no one who can understand Adrien’s pain, she is the only one who can listen to it.
"It'll never be the same again," he mumbles. “She will never remember me.”
“I know, Adrien. I know,” she says soothingly. “But that doesn’t mean your relationship now is any less special.”
Adrien shakes with his tears. She’s said this countless times but it never helps, despite her best efforts. She’s been kind enough to tell him to be patient and to make his best with the situation, but Adrien is feeling his resolve slip away day by day.
“Ladybugs get to live a life of luck and fortune,” he says. “And the black cats are doomed to misery wherever they go.”
Noelle shakes her head. “That’s not true.”
Adrien gives her a desolate look. “It is,” he says. “Marinette forgot me and one day, you will forget me too. Then, I’ll go to the guardian after you to console me, and she’ll forget me too. And once she forgets me, it’ll only be a matter of time till there’s someone new who too will toss me aside.”
Noelle says nothing. Her hand doesn’t cease to stop stroking Adrien’s hair, despite her lip quivering. She’s so young, only a few years older than him when he started this job, and she’s already been introduced to the pain that magic can cause. Adrien wishes he could take it all away. More times than not, he’s been tempted.
He’s been tempted to crush his ring into those earrings and wish for it to end. The world could continue, only without his suffering. He didn’t deserve to be the only one here fated to live an imprisoned life of misery.
But those thoughts are the reason he no longer wears his ring. Instead, his ring is kept safe away from him with Noelle, and Adrien is forced to continue this trivial existence.  
“Ladybugs get to live a life of luck and fortune,” he repeats quietly. “And the black cats are doomed to misery wherever they go.”
*
It’s a while until Marinette sees Adrien again.
On the days he’s not here, she gets close to crazy, calling all their friends to ask about him, leaving him messages, walking by flower shops to see him. 
The sinking feeling that started the moment he left her shop has not ended. It’s spiraling and Marinette is falling deeper and deeper into some kind of existential dread. The nights are impossible to find sleep in because Marinette’s body feels agitated by some kind of forgotten task.
Her shop hardly provides her the comfort she needs anymore. On her strangest moments, she feels the urge to burst and run out, climb a building, fly through the city. Delusions overtake her on her weakest moments.
Adrien arrives outside as Marinette is closing her shop. She sees him stand outside the door and he looks straight back at her, but never enters. Finally, she comes outside, hearing the bell of her door chime as she locks the door.
She speaks first today. “I was starting to think you’d never come again.”
Adrien doesn’t look… like Adrien. Sunken circles have set below his eyes, he’s missed a few days of shaving and his hair is messy. “I’m sorry I ran out that day,” he says and offers the flower of the day – a lily. “For you.”
She takes the flower, mumbling a thank you but she can’t draw her eyes away from him. “Adrien, what happened to you?”
“I… I got a bit overwhelmed. I’m sorry,” he mutters before signaling to the street. “I can walk you home?”
Marinette gives a weak smile. “I feel like I should be walking you home.”
At that, he laughs and Marinette feels like ease has returned to her in a simple second. Ever since he disappeared, so much of her had gone with him – even in the small exchanges they had everyday, Marinette thinks that Adrien has some hold on a part of her. 
It’s always been that way, she realizes. In the parts of her life that she can’t remember, she’s been told by every one of her friends that she’s always loved Adrien. That when he would have a new shoot, she would be the most excited. That when he lost his dad, she was the first to cry on his behalf. That when he was gone for some time, she hurt more than anything.
Those feelings are numb now, mostly because Marinette can’t even remember herself doing any of those things. But it doesn’t matter… because in this life she lives that she can remember, she still loves Adrien. 
“Is everything okay?” she asks as they begin walking. He doesn’t even ask before taking her bags from her hand to carry them.
The words he wants to say don’t come out instantly. He hesitates for a while, glancing at her back and forth. Eventually, he speaks. “I want to tell you a story.”
“Hm?” Marinette’s stomach sinks. She doesn’t really want to hear about Chat Noir, not right now. “Another Ladybug story?”
“No. It’s not,” he begins. “There was a boy once, and he lived in the most beautiful castle in the land. There were painted windows, big rooms, and all sorts of entertainment inside this castle. Anything you want could be found inside. But still, this boy wasn’t happy.”
Marinette listens, though it’s the last thing she wants to do right now. “Why?”
“Well, he could never get out! Because everything he needed or wanted was inside, his father never thought he needed to leave the castle. His school could come to this home, his playground could be there, friends – if he did make any – could come over. Why would he need to go outside?”
Marinette frowns. “To live?”
Adrien nods sharply. “Exactly. The boy, despite everything he had, still wanted to leave to live. Curiosity is such a cunning thing and it can change lives. So the boy, driven by this curiosity, kept searching for ways to leave. Nothing really worked, he was still under heavy control and surveillance but one day… he found a way to leave. It appeared like a miracle.”
“What was it?”
“Something he never expected. It was a ring. But not just any ring… this ring came with a powerful friend, one that could turn him into something else that could leap through windows and climb buildings. It was magic.”
Marinette blinks. The strange feeling in her worsens.
“And, as he had it, once he started to get out, so did something else. There were fire-breathing dragons and overgrown crocodiles and sorcerous magicians all about the land. Outside was nothing like the boy imagined and yet…” Adrien pauses. “He liked it. Outside was not safe, or clean, or even pretty to look at but it had a charm. He even met someone like him on the outside.”
“A girl?” Marinette gave a chuckle.
Adrien smiles. “The most beautiful and brave girl there was out there. She also had a powerful friend, you see, but she had earrings – not a ring. When she had those on, she could swing between tall buildings and conjure things out of thin air. When she had those red and black spot earrings on, there was nothing she couldn’t do.”
“Red and black spotted?” her words were barely above a whisper.
Adrien watches her carefully. “Yes. Together, the boy and girl decided they’d become a team. They would restore everything to peace, until there was nothing left to fix. When that day would come, they would rest but until then, they would keep fighting. Everyone loved them dearly.”
“And it was a happy ending,” Marinette mumbles. A discomfort is traveling through her body, swirling around in her stomach, pumping her veins, heating her neck. 
“Oh no. Not at all,” Adrien says. “A happy ending for everyone who got to enjoy the safety and peace the boy and girl brought, but for the boy and girl, it was a terrible ending. They spent years sacrificing their life, because someone had to do it and the world chose them, but the reward they reaped were punishments. For the boy… well, all the evil dragons and crocodiles and magicians that were being sent to the land were from his father.”
Marinette’s winces and her gaze pivots to Adrien. “What?” 
He stares at her, unmoving. “He had been fighting his father all these years. Even as a boy or even as something else, it was always his father. And so, while the world rejoiced that the terrible man was gone, the boy was left an orphan but he could never grieve. This was the punishment for the rest of his life.”
“Why does he need to be punished?” Marinette argues, heat flashing across her cheeks. “He was the good guy!”
“That’s just the way the story goes,” Adrien shrugs. “As for the girl… she became sick after a while. She had stopped being a girl and only became something else, all to keep fighting, and while she grew as the land’s savior, she never got to be that girl again. And so, she ended up forgetting that she was the savior, in hopes to live as a girl again.”
“She forgot she saved everyone?” Marinette says slowly.
“Yes. And that was her punishment… or maybe it was really a reward? It’s hard to tell,” Adrien says. “She lived as a girl again and forgot all that she did. A part of her life is gone.” Adrien looks at Marinette intently, with a question hidden behind a casual smile. “What do you think, Marinette? Is it a punishment, or a reward?” 
Marinette stumbles, unsure of how to answer. “I don’t… I don’t know. She didn’t get to live out the reward she really deserved so it’s a punishment but… maybe it isn’t. I don’t know,” she swallows, turning to walk again. “Is that the end of the story? If so, I hate it.”
Adrien laughs. “It isn’t the happiest one I’ve told, I know. The boy and girl, after everything, didn’t get the happiness they should’ve gotten… but the people loved them. They didn’t know a thing of this despairful ending the boy and girl got, but they loved their story. That out of a hopeless place emerged two of the most incredible miracles the land had seen,” he says. “So they told this story over and over again, to anyone who would listen. They promised to tell their kids and write it down in history books, pay homage through statues and remember the fights. Today, they call it the tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.”
Marinette stops in her tracks. She looks at Adrien with contempt and laughs, “so it was another Ladybug and Chat Noir story. You lied.”
He shakes his head and his smile is caught somewhere between peace and sorrow. “No. It wasn’t. This story was about that boy and girl, the ones who had to become Ladybug and Chat Noir. But they were people too, and this was a story about them.”
She shrugs. “Is it not the same?”
“Do you really think so?” he asks. “You don’t think that the boy and girl from this story sound completely unalike the other stories I told you?”
Marinette hardly understands the message Adrien is trying to make, just that whenever she thinks too deeply about Chat Noir, her body begins to ache with an intensity she can’t bring herself to understand. “They do. I feel very sorry for them.”
Adrien only nods. “I’m sure they’re making do. With whatever life they have now.”
“After giving it all up to fighting,” Marinette mumbles. “Are they still living?”
“They are,” he confirms. “They’re humans after all. That’s what we’re all made to do. You live, no matter what you’re faced with, no matter if it feels wrong to. Even if a life feels incomplete, you live it, don’t you?”
His words spread an uncomfortable pounding across her mind. Did she mention that to Adrien? She doesn’t remember telling Adrien anything about feeling something amiss from time to time, feeling out of her environment, despite being in her own home. 
A painful tug is starting now, at the back of her neck. It’s as though Marinette’s body is failing on her, the more she stays on the ground now. What is she straining her body so deeply with that she feels this way?
“I’m sure they’ll find happiness. We’re all bound to,” Marinette makes herself say through the discomfort.
“I wonder about that too,” he answers. “A lot more than I can admit. I’m always thinking about it.”
“And? What have you deduced from that thinking?”
“Well, that if it’s something I care about so much that I can’t exist without thinking about it, then I need to know. For my sake.”
It’s starting to feel like there is something climbing up Marinette’s spine, on the back of her neck. She slips her fingers behind her shirt, feeling around but nothing is there. The crawling feeling changes to a sting. Her own body is malfunctioning on her.
“So?” she breathes out.
Adrien’s hand reaches out and wraps around Marinette’s. Thankful for the warmth of another person, Marinette clings on and squeezes as she rests her weight on him.
“Have you found happiness, Marinette?”
Marinette frowns and smiles in confusion. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Are you happy? Do you feel like everything is right now, with the way it is?”
Marinette blinks. “I… Adrien, you are still drunk, aren’t you?” she laughs. “You’re confusing me today. On another day, I would love this but I’m… not feeling well today,” she says before reaching up to gently brush the hair on his nape. The world spins for a second when she does and Marinette feels as though she’s becoming delirious by each passing second. When she looks at Adrien, it almost feels like she’s looking at something out of a page of her sketchbook. 
“Are you happy?” he mutters. 
Marinette holds tightly onto him. “I am happy you’re okay, Adrien. It was unbearable for me when you weren’t around and I really thought you didn’t want to see me anymore, because I was boring or… weird, or something. I don’t know. But thank you. For coming back to me. If I am happy, it’s because of you.”
This is the closest they’ve ever been, the most forward Marinette has ever been able to find herself while speaking to him. She doesn’t know what makes her do it, but she doesn’t need to know. 
They stand in silence for a long while and Adrien smiles. He repeats her name over again, barely a whisper and Marinette isn’t sure what to make of the moment – only that it feels like something she should remember. Or rather, it feels like there is something to remember for this moment.
“Marinette,” he says, suddenly serious. “The people in my stories. They're us."
In the busy street of Paris, Marinette feels her heart stop briefly, for a slow moment. It’s as though something heavy pulls her chest and she's worried she'll sink to the ground if she doesn't force herself to breathe.
She's ready to laugh, a snarky response prepared on her tongue for Adrien but when she looks at him, she stills. His eyes aren't bright and flirtatious, like the eyes of the boy who brings her a flower every morning or offers a love confession at every corner but... they look like the eyes of someone who's hurting.
Though he hides it, Marinette sees him hesitate, as if there's so much more he wants to say. But she's still stuck, thinking about his eyes. Was Adrien always in so much pain around her? She'd never even noticed.
She takes a step back, and the ache returns sharply. “What are you saying?”
Adrien pleads with his eyes and Marinette feels almost afraid at the desperation his gaze speaks. “I’m the boy who is still grieving, Marinette,” he whispers. “And you are the girl trying to live as a girl again.”
He buries his head in his hands and Marinette watches as the most confident and cool man she knows turns into something else entirely.
“Adrien, what are you–” a cry of pain fills the street. It takes Marinette a second to realize it came from her as her ears ring and a sharp stab feels like it’s delivered to her head.
“Marinette?” Adrien grabs her in concern. “You’re hurting… oh my God, you’re hurting,” he mutters in disbelief. “You’re trying to remember. Tikki told me it can be like this-”
“Adrien, you’re spewing nonsense,” Marinette barks out. She doesn’t mean to sound so harsh but her body feels as though it’s at war with herself. What kind of sickness is this?
He shakes his head. “No, I’m- I’m sorry,” he holds onto Marinette tightly to stop her from falling.
Marinette can’t explain what’s going through her. Immense pain works itself through her, in the form of sadness. An aching despair fills Marinette’s stomach and images drift through her mind, memories she doesn’t remember ever experiencing.
My mind is playing tricks on me.
She sees Adrien’s face under the rain, his hand holding out an umbrella. She tastes the wind of the sky hit her as she swings through a city. She hears a high pitched voice, begging for sweet treats from inside her purse. She smells the city burning, unlike any terror she’s ever seen in Paris. She speaks the words… spots on.
It’s all so scary and so… frightening. Marinette is paralyzing with shock in each moment that passes.
“Adrien,” Marinette cries out. “What is happening?”
Adrien looks petrified as he clings to Marinette. She’s never seen him so distressed. “Your mind is trying to fight,” his voice comes to Marinette like a sound hidden in loud background noise. “Marinette, please be careful-”
She isn’t sure what he says next. She remembers nothing of anything, only that her body spun as she lost control and collapsed.
*
“Hey kitty,” she starts off that night. “You think the city still needs us?”
His eyes widen. “What do you mean?”
“Well… it’s been a few years that we’ve been out of school and stopped Hawkmoth,” she says, not missing the way Chat still winces at the mention of their old enemy. “Apart from regular day pickpocketing and the occasional crime, there’s not much for us to do anymore.”
Chat pauses. “Yeah but… aren’t Ladybug and Chat Noir meant to be forever?”
“I mean, of course. They can’t just cease to exist but it’s been a few years now without any real supernatural danger. Sometimes, it feels like being Ladybug is more decorative than it is useful now.”
Chat scoffs. “Ladybug decorative? The Ladybug?” he says. “The one who saved not just Paris as a whole, but millions of people?”
Ladybug laughs. He always has the tendency to dramatize. “That was back then. I’m talking about now,” she says. “We were always so caught up trying to survive that we never really had time to think about what a superhero should do after. When the danger existed, it seemed like it existed forever.”
Chat hums in understanding. Even now, while they have this conversation in the dead of the night, Paris is quiet – apart from drunk men on the street and unnecessary honking. Even the flickering lights of tonight’s Eiffel Tower feel different. In the past, they would have to keep a keen ear to the sound of danger, but now, the city is holding itself together. Everyone has become an everyday superhero for themselves.
“Never really had time to think about a superhero retirement,” he says, kicking his legs back and forth while sitting on the ledge. “There was a time when we were the most important people in the city. Feels like we’re washed up celebrities at times, like… a teen star, you know?”
Ladybug frowns with amusement at the comparison. “A teen star?”
He shrugs. “It was the first thing that came to my mind! You get my point.”
Ladybug nods. She gets it more than anything. Just like how Adrien Agreste was the fixation of the city at one point, so was she – as Ladybug. Ladybug and Chat Noir were the most in-demand people in the city, with how much danger was lurking. But just like how her dear Adrien bid goodbye to his celebrity status as an adult… Ladybug wonders.
“So where’s this coming from?” Chat says.
“My whole world has been half Ladybug’s. At times, I was living this life more than I was living my other one, just because that was what the situation needed,” she mumbles. A heavy weight sits on her chest, stirring with every word. “But it doesn’t need to be this way forever. Not for me, at least?”
Chat’s brows furrow. “What are you saying?”
Ladybug takes a deep breath. “I’m not just Ladybug. I’m the Guardian. Even when I’m not in this suit, I’m still in it… at least to all the kwamis back home. I’m always living for the miraculous. I thought I’d be living my own life by now, you know… earning money, working on other things. I can’t do that,” she pours her heart out and Chat understands now.
His expression is so distraught that Ladybug can’t bear to look at it. The weight of her words falls on him like a crash and his lips tighten into a thin line. It takes a while for him to speak again, but when he does, it feels like all of Paris stops just for his one question.
“You don’t want to be Ladybug anymore, do you?” 
Ladybug swallows. She’s been grieving for weeks now, as if she would be losing someone dear to her and not a part of herself. But delivering this news to Chat Noir, a boy who has known her since before she came to know herself… it’s been the hardest preparation.
“There is a life waiting for me outside the miraculouses,” she attempts to say bravely. “I want to give that life a chance.”
Fear dawns upon Chat like it’s the only thing he knows now. “Okay but… my lady, you renouncing your position doesn’t mean the same thing for me, as it does for you,” his voice quivers. “If you renounce your position, it means you would…”
Chat can’t bear to continue. Ladybug hates the way guilt eats her up now, after she’s spent a long time in turmoil with herself.
“I know.”
It sets Chat off the edge. Ladybug knew it would, and she can’t blame him for the tears that appear, for the frantic and loud pleading he begins, for the desperation.
“Don’t… don’t leave me,” he blinks. “No, no- you can’t-” he pauses and Ladybug feels her heart sink at the terror in his shaking fingers as he runs them through his hair. “You can’t just leave me, Ladybug, after ten fucking years. You can’t just make this decision and- and forget about me!”
“I’m sorry, chaton,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes well up with more tears each second that passes. “I’ll be alone. I’ll be alone without you. This… this means so much to me. Please, don’t forget me.”
Ladybug thinks her body is numb, but she sees her hands tremble. “Oh kitty,” she whispers. “This was an amazing time of my life. You were the best part of some of my worst days. Don’t…” she trails off. Chat Noir is an increasing mess and Ladybug can’t bring herself to say to not make this harder for her.
“You have to give me something,” his eyes soften pleadingly. “It’s been ten years and I don’t ask for your love or even your friendship anymore but… but these small moments we meet. It’s all I have.”
“That’s not true, Chat. You have a life outside of being Chat Noir, just like I have one outside of being Ladybug. You have so much.”
He stares and she feels the minute pass slowly. “It’s not enough. I don’t have anything in my life. But I do in this one,” he says. “You.”
“I’m sorry, Chat.”
“Please, I know it’s hard being the guardian but… please. Please, my lady,” his voice trembles. “Let me have one thing. Your company every few nights… just to talk. Please give that to me,” he takes her hand and presses it to his forehead. “Whatever you have trouble with, I’ll help you. I can take care of some of the Miraculouses and I can… I can help you financially! My civilian self, he has… more money than he could ever need. I can give you that and you can let me worry about these small things and… and I don’t even need to know your name for it! I can do it anonymously. You can just tell me when you need anything and-”
“Chat Noir. Please.”
The way she says his name is a threat. She needs him to understand, she’s made her decision and she’s made it for herself. This is the only thing she can give herself after ten long years of being behind a mask. I deserve some salvation.
He quiets immediately. He protests no more but his chest heaves loudly in the silent night. Though he tries to hold back sobs, Ladybug hears each one clear. Be strong, my kitty.
Neither trusts themselves to say anything more so for a long while, they sit in this irreparable stillness. Goodbye is only one word long but Ladybug thinks it feels like it takes all the time off her lips to say. How can one begin to say goodbye to ten years of their life?
Ladybug isn’t sure what’s waiting for her on the other side. She isn’t sure the extent to which she’ll find herself wiped, but she knows she won’t know herself – her Ladybug self. She won’t know that there was once a Chat Noir nor a Hawkmoth or that a brave girl began fighting at fifteen all for this. She won’t know, not till someone takes the time to tell her that Paris had superheroes once, and they were the most spectacular thing this city’s ever seen.
How will everyone take to the news, she wonders? Would it be Alya, who tells her about Ladybug – shocked, that her best friend of so long just woke up erased? Her parents? How would she learn again, of who she once was?
And who would she be, after all this? This is the question that’s kept Ladybug awake too many nights. Not even Tikki can answer her when she asks.
“I don’t know, Marinette,” her usual voice came with no energy. “It depends on how much of yourself you put into Ladybug.”
“What if it was all of it?” Marinette answered fearfully. “Who would I be then?”
“Then… a blank slate?”
A blank slate. Ladybug isn’t sure if that’s who she wants to be on the other side. She is still Marinette, after all and she needs to be Marinette. She needs to be Marinette, so that she can still make dresses with care and that she can love everyone in her life as usual – Papa, Maman, Alya, Nino, Juleka, Luka… Adrien.
She needs to love them, just as she does now. She can’t lose that, because that would be losing far too much. She needs to still love hearing Alya rant about the smallest thing of the day, needs to still love Nino’s nonchalant attitude to anything that comes his way, needs to still love Adrien’s kind heart.
Who knows? Maybe without all this Ladybug… maybe she can love Adrien again, the way she once wanted to. Yes, that sounds nice. On the other side, she will hold onto Adrien and love him again. 
Chat’s sob escapes his lips and the sound hurts like a knife to Ladybug’s chest. When she looks at him, she thinks about how there’s so many different kinds of first loves out there – unrequited first loves, mistaken first loves, painful first loves… but never what Chat Noir will become to her. Never forgotten first loves.
You were my first love, she wants to confess. It was always you.
But she can’t. Not now, not when it hardly matters. Not when tomorrow, she plans to hand over this life to a new girl, one she sees herself in, and move to being only Marinette. Marinette never loved Chat Noir, never thought once about saving the world, never experienced heartbreak on the top of a rooftop. Marinette has only ever liked Adrien Agreste and plans to confess to him in due time, has only ever wanted to save her own world and has only ever experienced heartbreak over celebrities.
“Have you chosen a new Guardian?” he asks finally, trying to keep from crying.
“Yes. I’m sure she will seek you out first,” Ladybug answers. “She’s young. Be gentle with her.”
“I hope you chose well,” he mumbles.
Ladybug nods. “I hope she is good to you.”
“Will that even matter to you?”
“It matters to me now,” Ladybug’s eyes fall. He says nothing and the silence returns.
This can’t be the end, even she thinks. Ten years of friendships, millions of moments of partnership, hundreds of seconds of something more… it can’t amount to only this. Ladybug wishes more than anything that there was a more seamless way to keep Chat Noir all to herself, without having to lose so much in the process.
But these are the cards she’s been dealt. There’s no way for a Ladybug like her to have a life for herself without having to burn her precious past. 
She turns to look at Chat Noir. Usually, on nights like these when he’s exceptionally handsome, she’s busy committing him to memory. She hates to think of how there’s no reason to do it anymore. Her hand reaches gently over to his arm and he looks up.
“I’ll give you something,” she smiles softly. “It’s not what you want but… I think you’ll like it.”
He’s frozen with hurt etched so deeply in his eyes that Ladybug is only grateful that she can forget this sight of him when she gives up being the guardian. It’s not a look she wants to ever remember, not if she wants to live without guilt.
“My name. I’m giving you my name,” Ladybug says when he doesn’t answer. Her words register slowly to him and suddenly, his eyes widen. “You can come find me in my civilian life, if you want. Don’t tell me that you’re Chat or that I was Ladybug but just… you can come find me and I can keep you company. Every few nights, just like you asked,” she finishes with a cheeky smile.
There’s still shock in his expression.
“Chat?”
He blinks. “I can… I can come to you?”
Ladybug swallows. “Yes. But you can’t tell me anything. You’re a stranger, okay?”
His face crumples and he takes a few seconds to answer. “Our memories together,” he croaks. “You won’t know a thing. You won’t know how special you are to me or how we…”
Ladybug has to glance away to hide the way his words tear a hole in her heart. “We can… we can start over. You can come find me and make your way into my life,” she smiles though it stings. “You can tell me stories. I probably won’t know a thing about Chat Noir and Ladybug, you can tell me all about them and we can be friends.”
“But you won’t remember that you were my best friend.”
“I’m sorry, Chat.”
They sit in silence for the rest of the night and she hears him cry this time. He tries to bargain again and when she consoles him, he only sobs more. Truth be told, Marinette wants to cry too. She wants to cry and scream at how unfair the world could be to a fourteen-year-old girl who didn’t know a thing about anything before she had to become a hero.
And now, she has to break her own heart.
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she says.
He glances at her. “What about her?”
“The daughter of a baker, an aspiring designer with a little boutique and… for a little while, Paris’ superhero, alongside the world’s best partner. Marinette,” she says with a smile. “I’m giving you my name.”
His breath hitches and his eyes widen. “Marinette…” he whispers.
It’s a sin how beautiful it sounds from his lips, after ten years of secrecy and companionship. Marinette hopes the person she’ll become from tomorrow loves the way he says her name as much as she does in this moment.
“Oh my God, Marinette,” he buries his face in his hands. “Marinette… I love you. I love you. I’ve only ever loved you and now… Marinette,” his voice breaks in the end.
Marinette presses her nails into her palm to stop herself from becoming desperate at him calling for her. She wants to tell him that she loves him too, that she’s only ever loved him, and despite whatever fleeting admiration her teenage self felt for a classmate, that it’s only ever been him.
Instead, all she can do is offer a clenched fist in a childish gesture.
“Come and find me, kitty,”
*
Marinette wakes up crying. 
The sadness she wakes up with is one that hurts her to the core. For a while, she drifts in and out of sleep and unable to grasp reality. 
She doesn’t know how long this goes on for. Time doesn’t make sense in the state she finds herself in. Dreams come to her vividly, so vivid that she can mistake them for reality, but not vivid enough that she can forget that she’s living through something her mind created. 
And… she feels everything. Marinette didn’t know how many emotions a person could feel - how many she could once feel - until she goes through this ordeal. The last two years of her life have been simply like a tester of life. What Marinette feels in her dreams are extreme ends of euphoria and anguish. 
It becomes hard to tolerate and so, she understands why she can’t bring herself to move even a finger sometimes. Everything falls to her body. 
The worst parts of the dreams she lived through were that while she would watch one from start to end, the second it elapsed — she would already feel herself forgetting it. It was a fight with her own self, to hold onto something that her own strength was taking from her. 
In between some dreams, she hears voices interrupt her trance. She hears a crying man, she just collapsed, Noelle, she isn’t waking up; she hears a young girl, they will help us with this and I closed the shop for her; she hears a squeaky voice, similar to a child’s, and a much deeper one squabble between themselves; she hears her parents. 
But she can’t say a thing to anyone. In the moments of consciousness she does have, Marinette only finds herself wishing to do one thing – to reach over, pull out her sketchbook and look at those pictures of Chat Noir again.
It’s a repeated cycle of this, and her body batters with each time. Marinette sees a dream, she feels it like it were the first time, she wakes up forgetting and she plunges into a new dream again. Answers come to her in them on stolen memories from her days in school and missing gaps of life. Marinette doesn’t want to part from this. 
Most of all, she doesn’t want to part from feeling in love as she once did. She didn’t know she had it in herself to love so deeply and yet, in her memories, she’s that way.
I don’t want to forget.
After a particularly strong vision of herself with a black spotted little bug, Marinette gains her usual partial consciousness again. She only has a few minutes before she’ll drag herself back into trying to remember that thing… what did it call itself? Tikki?
“Marinette,” a deep voice speaks to her. “Marinette!”
The sensation of a tight grip on her hand comes suddenly. Marinette wills herself to try and respond, though the most she can endure is opening her eyes slowly.
“Marinette,” the boy cries. “Please wake up.”
Blond hair falls over his eyes in a tangled mess. He clings onto Marinette dearly, like she’s made of something that could slip away through his fingers. 
“Chat Noir,” Marinette tries to speak. She thinks she’s called out for him but when the boy barely budges, Marinette realizes she’s only spoken the name aloud to herself in her mind.
“Just give up, Marinette. I’m begging you,” he says. “Wake up.”
She doesn’t think she hears anything else from the conversation. The boy continues to cry, and can make out the shape of his body resigned over hers. The scene is almost familiar to her… the sound of these sobs is becoming clearer to her.
She’s remembering. She remembers these sobs on a rooftop, but she remembers them in other places too – in a tunnel, in school, in places she didn’t think she’s ever been. 
But as soon as the memories flood, so does the pain. Marinette is fighting her body again. 
Remembering you, she thinks to him, is killing me.
It’s killing her, she slowly realizes. It’s killing her to discover parts of herself that she hid but Marinette can’t let go. Why did I want to forget all this?
To uncover this, Marinette finds herself constantly going back to her dreams. She never wanted to forget, she understands this, so why did she make herself? 
The answer reveals itself in blurry visions at the end of dreams – her younger self crying in bed after a particularly hard day, where she missed Alya’s graduation while handling a crisis for Nooroo; her parents sitting alone at a dinner table with a full course meal prepared, only for her to arrive close to midnight from a villain fight that ruined the night; a job interview for her dream job missed by taking care of Tikki, for which Tikki apologized furiously but Marinette simply smiled and said, “it’s okay, Tikki! I always wanted to run my own boutique anyway.”
It’s not only one or two occurrences of things like these. It’s Marinette’s whole life, on a reel – from her fourteen year old self to her twenty four year old self. Her whole life passed by like this, in quiet moments of disappointment.
She understands now. She loved this life, but it was destroying her. She never wanted to forget this life, but she couldn’t give it up without erasing it. She never wanted to lose herself but she wanted some peace.
It’s the most unfair luck in the world, Marinette thinks, to give her such a beautiful life and make her hurt for living it. I didn’t deserve this.
This was not the life she should’ve been given. She should’ve been rewarded, for all she sacrificed. She should’ve been celebrated and granted every wish she wanted. She should’ve exchanged her old life for one that could honor it, not forget it.
I won’t forget, she screams to a void in her head. I won’t forget. I won’t give up my life anymore.
And so Marinette fights. She fights harder than she ever did, she fights for her life. She fights for all the missed occasions and birthdays she couldn’t celebrate as Marinette, she fights for all the battles she couldn’t win as Ladybug. She fights for the life she had to give up just to be able to choose. She fights because someone is waiting for her.
She does her hardest to overcome the ache that’s paralyzed her to a floating consciousness. I will wake up, she repeats to herself, and I will remember every dream of mine.
It’s a mantra she doesn’t quit saying. With each part of her body she conquers, the stinging feeling dissipates. From her fingers to her elbows, she regains control, though it isn’t easy. 
She’s tiring like nothing else. For a few moments, she even worries whether she’s destroying herself just to cling onto her memories. Trying to wake up with them is like pulling a weight by a net up a hill. She feels the scalding burn of the wires on her fingers and the weight tears on her muscles like paper, but she doesn’t give up.
She will be selfish this time. She will take this one thing for herself – a self-rewarded gift of sorts. No one thanked her enough for the years she gave for this city, but she doesn’t need that thank you. 
Just let me wake up, with all my memories. Please.
“Marinette?”
For a second, Marinette thinks she’s traveled back in time. The voice that calls her name is one she heard in her dreams, waking up every morning as a teenager. The same voice that pulled her out of her groggy state and dragged her to school.
“Tikki?”
Her voice shakes as she says the name. Though it’s only been two years since she’s said goodbye to her, it feels instead like a lifetime apart. 
Tikki screams in joy, flying over her head in haste. “You remember me?!” she cries out. “You remember me! Marinette, do you really-”
“Yes,” Marinette laughs hoarsely. Her hands go to push herself up the bed, but she’s considerably weaker than she remembers. She lands back on the bed with a painful thump.
“Be careful!” she frets before blinking widely. “How can this happen? You remember me and you’re not…”
“Dead?” Marinette offers. “I felt like I was getting there.”
“That’s the magic of our kwamis. It’s impossible to break the barrier,” Tikki frowns. “Marinette, how could you do it?”
Marinette swallows. How did she do it? Did she really even do it?
She’s holding her mind in tact, though she was close to losing it. If she tries, she thinks she can recall any memory to her head though it is blurrier than she thinks it was in her sleep. 
“I fought it,” she says with a disbelief. “I begged and I fought. I remember everything… not the way a normal person would but I remember,” she laughs in relief. “Oh, Tikki. I’m so happy to see you again.”
Tikki flies to her cheek and brushes herself against it. Tikki is unchanged from her memories, but Marinette feels a difference to the way things were from what she remembers. 
“Noelle was worried sick. We’ve been keeping watch this whole time,” she says. “It’s been two weeks without you, in case you were wondering. We’ve been keeping you alive.”
Marinette blinks. “How am I alive?”
“You said so yourself, you fought, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t think I’d be able to remember and wake up.”
“It must’ve not been that much of a jump for you to remember. Maybe you always knew, deep down,” Tikki answers. “That, and you being like no other Ladybug I’ve ever seen, Marinette. Don’t let Noelle hear that.”
Marinette flushes. Did she always know, deep down?
She thinks back to the last two years. Staring out at Paris, through a shop, she never thought once about Ladybug… until she did. Until every day of her life, she learnt a little bit about Ladybug and her partner. 
She blinks. Her saving grace was in a story.
“Where’s Adrien?” she says suddenly.
Tikki glances at Marinette in surprise. “Adrien? He’s at home, he’s come by a few times but it got a bit hard for him to watch you like this-”
“I need to see him now,” Marinette gasps. Weakness brings her body back to the bed but she tries her hardest to move in haste.
“Marinette, it can wait! You need to get checked by-”
“I know, Tikki,” Marinette answers. She looks at Tikki with a sincere glance and nothing more needs to be said for her companion of ten years to understand. “I know.”
“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki’s head falls. “I should’ve told you, I know I should’ve!”
Marinette strokes her head with a finger. “Don’t say that. I was so naive to never see it before,” she laughs. “It took me to forget him to even know him.”
Big teardrops fall from Tikki’s eyes. “You should see him. He’s been a mess since you’ve arrived here,” she says, looking around Marinette’s room. Marinette can see packets of medicine lying around, wet towels on the desk, and flowers fill her usually empty apartment. 
“I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
When Marinette leaves, she runs. She feels the wind slap her cheeks and her muscles tire with each movement, but she doesn’t stop. She runs, like she once remembers, through the streets and the curves of the city. She stops for only a few moments, by stalls in the city, by familiar faces and it’s euphoric.
The city is alive and it’s never been this way for the years she was forgetting herself. Marinette speeds through it as if she were once again Ladybug.
All those stories of a brave girl on these streets were her. It was her who brought peace here and she deserves to celebrate that. 
With a beaming smile, and her chest heaving, she arrives at Adrien's apartment doorstep. She’s never come here before, always too fearful of overstepping a boundary for a man she couldn’t remember. But now, she knocks with an urgency of ten years.
Adrien’s voice comes muffled through the door, a coming! shouted out and it squeezes at Marinette’s heart. She forgot this voice once.
His steps become louder and louder, and then he opens the door. And Marinette finds herself face to face with the life she’s worked so hard to remember.
“Adrien,” she mumbles, already feeling the tears pricking at her eyes. 
“Ma-Marinette,” Adrien breathes. His hands tremble with shock and he blinks. His face has gone white. “You’re… you woke up?”
Marinette nods with a smile. “Hi, kitty.”
Here they are, years older since they first became two superheroes and yet, when Marinette looks at him… she still sees her childhood. She sees herself in Adrien. 
She watches as his face crumples into a sob and he mutters under his breath, my lady over and over again. It’s like resuming a conversation that last ended two years ago. No time has passed at all and yet, it has.  
“I’m sorry,” her voice breaks with the apology. “I didn’t want to forget.”
Adrien shakes with a sadness he has never shown the Marinette of the last two years. “How are you… how do you remember?”
“I fought. I took back my decision.”
“I thought I forced you to remember,” he says. “I was going crazy. I thought I killed you, Marinette. You chose to forget and I put those memories back in your mind with stories and… and just by existing.”
Marinette shook her head. “Don’t say that. Please.”
“You didn’t want to be Ladybug anymore,” he says quietly.
She nods. “I thought I didn’t but removing Ladybug from who I am… it numbed me to everything,” she says. “I can’t forget that part of myself… or you.”
Marinette feels her heart slice with every cry of Adrien’s. For this is not just Adrien, but her best friend of her childhood – this is Chat Noir. 
It doesn’t take either of them to be in their suits to see each other for who they are – Ladybug and Chat Noir. They might never wear the mask again but to Marinette, this will always be her Chat Noir.
And she would always be Ladybug. There would be no part of her that could give up Ladybug, even if she wanted to, even if she had to. Even if she wouldn’t be today’s Ladybug, she was still a Ladybug of some time. 
“We deserved so much better,” Marinette says in a hushed voice. “We deserved a better ending for our stories.”
“We did. We were only fourteen,” he laughs despondently. “I thought there would be something better for us down the line than having to live like this.”
“We should make that something better,” she gives a small smile. “I won’t let my memories be taken from me and you shouldn’t let your rightful pain be taken from you. Let’s live happily now, Chat Noir.”
Twenty six now, and Marinette’s life flashes in her mind. She’s been fighting and looking all this time for some escape from the fate she’s been given, the unique predicament that no one but one other soul in this world can understand. But she doesn’t need to fight anymore. There is a way for Ladybug and Chat Noir to live again, without despair at the end of their tale.
He nods and smiles. “Okay,” he says firmly. “So, what now, my lady?”
Adrien blinks, with so much innocence and quiet happiness, that Marinette finds herself transported to the first time she saw him outside her shop after forgetting him. The boy that day too looked like a lost kitten, arriving to her unsteadily. Only there’s no reason for him to seem lost now – there would be only happiness in the new path they would tread together from here.
“It’s a new day,” she says softly. “There’s so many stories you can still tell me.”
His smile softens, as if he can’t believe the words. “You already know all of them now.”
Marinette holds his hand carefully with hers. She’s standing in uncharted territory now, something unfamiliar. “I want to hear them anyway,” she says with a grin. “A story each time you see me, that was the deal, wasn’t it?”
He laughs and squeezes her hand tightly. There’s so much Marinette needs to understand about the pain that he went through, and the choices she made. Her world is bigger now than a dress shop and a calm life, but she sticks to what she knows, just so she can get through it, second by second.
And so, she does the only thing she knows what to do upon being with Adrien – she offers a flower. 
*
ending note: something i regularly think about in regards to the show set-up is how absolutely depressing marinette and adrien's futures are. we have adrien whose father is hawkmoth and marinette who has to lose her memory if she wants to give up being the guardian. their whole lives are sacrificed for the cause of the city, and i respect them so much for that. but my heart also hurts for them, and how happy they deserve to be. hope you guys enjoyed my little exploration on post hawkmoth life, and choosing happiness through making their own fate.
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notarewberry · 5 months
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inspired from Ch. 8 of @chocoluckchipz ‘s and @thenovelartist 's Bride for the Prince fanfic!
plus some design sketches
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manikas-whims · 2 years
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Fanfics that go from marichat to adrienette are just superior (pls dont argue with me)
Like i love when they begin as marichat kinda getting into a relationship n having all those late night meetings, leading up to Adrien in the mornings realising HIS feelings for Marinette, thus turning into adrienette are my fav fics from the love square ❤🖤
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tardisimpalalover16 · 6 months
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How do people expect me to fall in love when I can read the same two idiots falling in love in so many different ways instead
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monpetitchattriste · 3 months
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Artwork for my story Panic Attacks in Paradise
NEW CHAPTER OUT NOW!!!!
“Do you want me to carry you?” Adrien asked, concerned, etching his voice as he watched her sway slightly. “No, I am fine,” Marinette insisted stubbornly. But her words barely left her lips when she stumbled again, her knees buckling beneath her. Adrien quickly reached out, steadying her before she hit the ground. Wordlessly, Adrien bent down, sliding one arm behind her knees and the other around her back. He lifted her off the ground with a careful heave, settling her into a piggyback. It took a few steps for her initial resistance to fade and for her body to relax against his as he carried her.  Marinette’s breath was steady and rhythmic against his neck.  "You're surprisingly comfy, Adrien," Marinette giggled, her words slurring slightly as she rested her chin on his shoulder. "Thanks, I think," Adrien chuckled, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. "Just don't get used to it. I'm not starting a piggyback ride service anytime soon." Marinette responded with a playful nudge against his head. "Too bad, I'd be your first customer. Five stars for the ride!” “Oh, so now you want me to carry you! Well, I guess this ride is over.” He loosened his grip on the legs and let her start to slip. Marinette squeaked in response, grabbing onto his shoulders to keep from falling off him. Adrien quickly tightened his grasp again and adjusted her so she wasn't falling back down. 
The animated version down be low!
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