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chelleie · 5 months
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Okay but she looks amazing in this look— 🐞 tried out something new? I like it, might continue to play around with this sketchy color style?
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angiecakes1990 · 5 months
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I freaked out for a second thought we were getting Cat Blanc for a second there but its Celestial Cat 😂
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peak-miraculous-humor · 5 months
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30-3am · 9 months
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adrienschat · 1 year
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ilmiyyat1453 · 11 months
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‎İsrâ Sûresi tesbihle (سبحان) başlar, hamd ve tekbîr ile biter. Bu da İsrâ ve Mi’râc’ın şu üç usûl üzere gerçekleştiğini gösterir:
‎Tesbîh
‎Tehmîd (Hamd)
‎Tekbîr
Bu üçü, Mi’râc’da hediye edilen “namaz”ın temelini oluşturur.
‎Abdullâh Sirâceddîn, Muhâdarâtun Havle’l-İsrâ ve’l-Mi’râc
Ömer Çınar Hocaefendi'den altıntıdır.
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yalnzardc · 7 months
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aidanchaser · 8 months
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Boulangérella: A Miraculous Fairy Tale AU - Chapter 13
Table of Contents
Read on Ao3 Prologue
beta’d by @7wizardsshallanswerthecall, @mothmanhamlet, @ccboomer and @aubsenroute
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Marinette felt dizzy and unsteady on her feet as she stumbled up the street to Master Fu’s shop. Distantly, she was aware that she had work to do, but at the forefront of her thoughts, looming larger than her upcoming deadlines, was Chat Noir’s proposal.
Chat Noir had not simply teased her or flirted with her; he had actually asked her to marry him and though she had tried to laugh it off as a joke, she had seen the desperation in his eyes. He had been so earnest in his request.
And she had turned him down.
Of course she had turned him down! She couldn’t marry a thief. He was her friend, and nothing more. And besides, he didn’t know who she was behind the mask. Honestly, Chat Noir would probably think that she was boring. She was an apprentice, obsessed with her work, who helped out at her parents’ bakery when she found the time. There was no adventure to her, no intrigue. That was all Tikki’s magic.
Perhaps he ought to have simply proposed to Tikki.
“Marinette!” someone shouted at her.
She was so startled that she tripped and went sprawling onto the cobblestone. She winced as pain spread through her knees and wrists, the parts of her body that always took the worst of her falls. But it was brief; even tucked away in Marinette’s pocket, Tikki still worked her magic. The pain receded as a hand shot into Marinette’s line of sight.
“Marinette—I’m so sorry—”
She took the hand gratefully and let Nino pull her back up to her feet.
“My fault,” she sighed and dusted herself off.
“I’m glad you made it out of the palace. Alya and I were worried.”
“Oh!” Perhaps it made her a bad friend, but in the wake of Chat Noir’s proposal and her panic to escape the guards before her transformation, she had forgotten about Alya and Nino entirely.
“Er—where is Alya?” she asked.
“Resting at home.” Nino pursed his lips and wondered if he ought to tell Marinette about Rena Rouge. He supposed Alya would kill him, not for sharing the secret but for denying her the opportunity to share it herself. “Do you want to go see her?”
Marinette did want to go see Alya. She wanted to tell Alya and Nino everything. She wanted to tell them that she was Ladybug. She wanted to tell them that Chat Noir had proposed. She wanted to ask them what she was supposed to do, and if she really had just lost one of her best friends for good.
“I have to get to Master Fu’s shop,” Marinette yawned. “The fastenings on the doublets aren’t done yet, and I still need to add ribbons to the sleeves, and…” she sighed. She was too tired and had too much to do. Chat Noir and his proposal would just have to be set aside for a night.
Nino furrowed his brow suspiciously. “You promise that you won’t work yourself to death?”
“I promise.”
“In that case,” Nino offered her his arm, and, with an indulgent smile, Marinette accepted his offer of escort.
As they walked together, Marinette said, “I’m glad that you made it out of the palace all right. I was worried when you and Alya went towards the ballroom.” Truthfully, she felt guilty for abandoning Nino and Chat Noir to the guards, but she had been about to lose the magical cloaking that protected her identity. If she had pulled Nino away, he might have found out her secret. And if Nino were to find out before Alya, she’d never hear the end of it.
“I hitched a ride from Chat Noir,” Nino said, with no more concern than he might have if he were to comment on a partly cloudy day.
“What was that like?” she laughed.
“Terrifying at first,” he grinned, “then thrilling. I’d never seen the city like that before.” The excitement in his eyes faded a bit. “Do you really know Chat Noir all that well?”
“No—I mean—He just…” He just proposed to me, she thought, but didn’t dare say it out loud. “He showed up at the bakery last night and I fed him. Don’t tell Papa! We just talked and he asked me to find him at the ball.” She wondered if he was going to keep his promise to her of a dance on the third night. “That’s it, really.” Marinette tried and failed to read the expression on Nino’s face. “Why do you ask?”
Nino hesitated before finally saying, “I don’t know what he intended by asking you to find him at the ball, but I’m not sure you should trust him. I think he’s hiding something.”
Her heart pounded in her chest. What had Chat Noir told Nino? She wished she could to transform into Ladybug then and there to interrogate Nino. Instead, she was only Marinette, who asked in an unusually high-pitched voice, “Oh? Like what?”
“I don’t know… I’m just worried for you. And maybe a bit for him. Something seemed off about him today.”
Marinette privately agreed. Chat Noir had not been himself since the fight with Volpina. Even the week before that, after she had told him that she would be busy preparing for the ball… Was this dramatic change in Chat Noir her fault?
She bit down on her lip. “I trust Chat Noir, thief or not.” Marinette knew she must sound naïve to Nino, but she couldn’t explain to him that she had spent the last year working alongside Chat Noir, that he had protected her as many times as she had protected him, and that she would trust him with her life without hesitation.
“Well,” Nino sighed, “I trust you, Marinette. But you tend to be more optimistic than you ought to be. Just know that Alya and I will be there, too, so if anything happens—”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” she assured him. Not to Marinette, anyway. Chat Noir wasn’t in love with Marinette. And that was fine, because she wasn’t in love with Chat Noir.
As they approached Master Fu’s shop, she wondered if she ought to attend the ball as Ladybug on the third night. If it really was going to be her last chance to see Chat Noir, shouldn’t she take it? Didn’t they at least deserve a proper goodbye?
“Get some rest, Marinette, please?” Nino asked.
“As soon as the work is done,” she said, and kissed his cheek before pushing open the shop door.
Juleka was sitting at the tea table, embroidery thread in hand and white and gold fabric laid out in her lap.
“Oh, thank you for starting, Juleka,” Marinette sighed. “You’re a life-saver.”
Juleka mumbled something in reply as Marinette pulled Félix’s doublet down from the mannequin to finish the closures.
Marinette liked working with Juleka—the girl had a wonderful eye for detail and quick, delicate hands—but she was nearly impossible to understand, and she kept her long dark hair hanging in her face, making it hard to interpret her expression. She could not be more different from her friendly, easy-going twin brother.
“Is Master Fu still working?” Marinette asked. “He’s using the gold cording, isn’t he?” And she started to knock on his workroom door.
“No!” Juleka was on her feet and between Marinette and the door in a moment. “He retired for the evening,” she mumbled, “and he said you couldn’t go in.”
Marinette sighed. “Juleka, I’m going to see it in just two days anyway.”
It was, again, hard to make out Juleka’s mumble, but Marinette was fairly certain she heard the shape of the word, “surprise.”
“Fine,” Marinette sighed. She could wait until the third day to find out what her ballgown would look like. But that was not going to give her much time to personalize it.
Marinette sat down to stitch in the fasteners, while Juleka hurried into Master Fu’s rooms to get the gold cording they needed for the edges of Adrien’s jerkin. When she returned, she hesitated warily between Marinette and the door.
Marinette raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to rush the door, Juleka.”
Juleka hummed a note of disbelief.
Well, perhaps if she were not so tired and stressed, she might have the energy to obsess over the dress that Master Fu had promised her. Part of her wished she had taken at least a little bit of time to talk about the design with him in its early stages, but instead she had thrown herself into the princes’ clothes, and she’d hardly pulled her head out of shot silk for much more than a bite to eat in the last month.
She thought about the designs she had pinned to her wall and Chat Noir’s curiosity about them. Did she want him to see her that way? Did she want to let Chat Noir get to know Marinette the way that he knew Ladybug? And did she want to know him that way?
Did they even have the time for that, or had she already lost him for good?
His proposal left her unsettled even still. All his dramatic confessions of love over the past year had seemed silly and cute. She had never taken him seriously, and now she wondered if that was why she was going to lose him. It would be wrong to let him go without at least telling him just how much she valued him.
Marinette did not know where the rest of her evening went. She only knew that one moment, she was stitching silver cording onto a black doublet and the next, someone was shaking her shoulder.
She scrambled to her feet so quickly that her head spun. “I’m awake! I—” She swayed and fell right into someone very, very solid.
Luka laughed softly. “Is everything all right, Marinette?” He was dressed in what must be his finest clothes, and though the doublet was a lovely shade of forest green, it had clearly been through its fair share of eventful evenings. Marinette knew enough about repairing clothes to know that the cape attached to the jerkin must have been as much for style as it was for hiding worn seams. Something about Luka’s attempt to present the very best of something that was already worn down made Marinette’s heart skip a beat.
“I’m fine. I…” Marinette looked across the room to Juleka, who was dozing over the embroidery in Prince Adrien’s jerkin. Then she glanced down at the unfinished doublet. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “I really need to get this done tonight.”
“You and Juleka have both been doing too much,” Luka said. “How can I help?”
“Can you thread a needle?”
“Is it anything like stringing a lute?”
Marinette did not dare let Luka stitch anything into the princes’ garments, but she let him talk to keep her and Juleka awake. He told them about the ball, and how everyone was already whispering that Prince Adrien had chosen Lila Rossi. The prince had hardly left her side all night, except for a brief dance with Chloé.
Marinette gave a derisive snort at that news. Luka tipped his head with a curious smile, but he made no comment. Instead, he told them that Félix had danced with a young girl named Rose, and it was obvious, even behind her curtain of dark hair, that Juleka was blushing.
Juleka mumbled something that Marinette didn’t catch, but Luka laughed.
“Rose had a great time. She was sorry that she couldn’t come back here with me, so she asked me to give you something.” And Luka gave his sister a quick kiss on the cheek.
Juleka’s blush spread to her ears, and she quickly turned back to her work.
Marinette finished off the last of the ribbons and fastenings, Juleka tied off the final stitch of embroidery, and finally, they packed the princes’ clothes into a new box for the second night of the ball.
“Do you have a lot to do for the third night?” Luka asked as Marinette locked up the shop.
“Just some gold braiding,” she yawned, “for both princes.”
“I’m sure they’ll be happy,” Luka assured her. “Your care for your clients really shines in your work… Oh, Juleka…”
Juleka stifled a yawn and sat down on the shop steps. She mumbled something into her hand and Luka shook his head.
“You’re spoiled,” he teased, but he unslung his viol from his shoulder and knelt down beside her.
With a smile, Juleka climbed onto her brother’s back and locked her arms beneath his chin. She buried her head into his shoulder and promptly fell asleep.
He may not have been the oldest by very much, but Luka liked being the older brother that Juleka could lean on. Neither of them had ever known their father, so Luka took on as much of father and brother as he could.
And he could not help but selfishly think that if Juleka slept through the walk home, he would more or less have Marinette to himself.
“I can carry that,” Marinette said, reaching for his viol.
“Only if you let me walk you home.”
“Are you sure? Isn’t Juleka a bit heavy?”
“I’m used to it,” Luka smiled. “Besides, I’m not the one who has to be up early to fit the princes. I won’t need to be at the palace until just before the guests arrive. That’s plenty of time to sleep.”
Reluctantly, Marinette agreed to let Luka walk with her. He set a slow pace, and she could not help but think she might have gotten to bed faster if she had been able to transform into Ladybug. But still, it was nice to walk with him, and she was grateful to have had his support as she and Juleka had finished the princes’ outfits. The least she could do to say thank you was give him some of her time.
As they walked, the clock tower struck three in the morning. Marinette groaned inwardly. In just a few short hours, her parents would be waking up to stock the bakery. She would be lucky if she got to crawl into her bed at all.
“Marinette?” Luka asked once the chimes had died down.
“Hm?”
Luka glanced up, as if he were searching for the words he needed in the stars. “I know you’ve got a lot to do right now, but I was wondering, well, when the ball is over, would it be all right if I stopped by more often?”
It was hardly a marriage proposal, but Marinette’s heart pounded as loudly as it had when Chat Noir had asked his question just hours earlier. “Oh… I…” She stumbled on the sidewalk, and caught herself through sheer force of will before she crushed Luka’s viol beneath her.
“Sorry,” she said quickly, voice high and strained. “You just… surprised me.”
“No, I’m sorry, Marinette. I know that I should wait until the ball is over and you aren’t overwhelmed with work, but I’m just worried someone else is going to come along and see how wonderful you are, and I don’t want to miss out.”
Marinette’s cheeks flared with heat. She wanted to thank him, to say yes, to encourage him. It was on the tip of her tongue. Her parents would like him. He was soft-spoken, even-keeled, and kind. Her father might worry because Luka was an artist who would have trouble making consistent money, but Alya had already given her approval. And Marinette enjoyed his company and conversation. He was intelligent and creative; he was compassionate and considerate.
So why, in this moment, could she only think of Chat Noir’s desperate proposal?
She swallowed hard and stopped as they reached the bakery. “Er… I have a friend,” she began, unsure entirely what she wanted to say.
“Oh—forgive me,” Luka apologized hastily, “I didn’t realize that you were spoken for—I thought—”
“No, I’m not! Just a friend, really,” Marinette insisted. “He’s only a friend.” She smiled, but Luka still looked doubtful.
“It’s only that he’s a very good friend,” she said, “and I’m worried for him. And I think… I think he’s trying to figure out how to say goodbye. Could I figure that out with him first, and then…?”
Marinette didn’t know what “then” entailed, but she thought it sounded nice. It was hard for her to envision anything beyond the third day of the ball. It was harder still for her to imagine that Chat Noir might leave her in just two days, but maybe if she knew that Luka was waiting on the other side, she could bear it.
She met his eyes and even in the dark she could see they sparkled with a beautiful blue-green, like the waters of the river that cut through the city. He looked hopeful. It made Marinette feel brave.
“Until then,” he agreed with a small smile. His hand closed around hers as he took his viol back from her. Her heart stuttered in her chest—then he leaned down and kissed her.
And Marinette kissed him back.
It was a brief kiss, but it was nice. Surely he couldn’t be comfortable with his sister still draped over his shoulders, but it felt comfortable, like sinking into warm water. Though there was nothing charged in it like the desperation in Chat Noir’s voice and the intimate tug on her hair ribbon, Marinette was still left dizzy and fumbling for the key to the shop.
“Er—good night,” she managed, before closing the door in his face.
She hardly had a moment to worry that the shop bell might have woken her parents. She felt positively giddy, the way she had the first time she had heard Prince Adrien laugh.
Marinette dashed upstairs, stumbling over the steps only twice, until she finally reached her room. She hurried up to her rooftop, wondering if she could catch a glimpse of Luka before he was lost in the city’s tight buildings—and then she stopped quite suddenly, halfway up the ladder.
Chat Noir was perched on her roof.
He turned and flashed a mischievous smile. “Shall I see to it your beau gets home safely?”
Her cheeks flared red and she very nearly slammed the attic door shut on him. “He’s not my…” But she supposed she had more or less accepted Luka’s offer. She’d only asked that he wait.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Are you begging for food again?”
His smile was all its usual charm and smarm that she had missed, as he asked, “Don’t you know that you’re not supposed to feed strays?” But his eyes were still sad. She felt the slightest twinge of guilt. How much of that sadness was her fault?
“Are you a stray kitty?” she asked. “Or does that bell around your neck mean that you belong to someone?”
He sighed and leaned against the railing of her roof. “Well, I was hoping I might catch my lady tonight,” he said.
“O-oh.” Marinette wasn’t quite sure that she was ready to face him as Ladybug. If she made an excuse and disappeared, only to return as Ladybug, would he give her a proper goodbye? That was the very thing she had just told Luka she needed from Chat Noir and yet… if she didn’t, could she hold onto him for just a little longer?
Marinette climbed up onto the roof and leaned against the railing beside Chat Noir’s perch. “Is it… about how she rejected you today?”
Chat Noir winced. “Is everyone in the city talking about it?”
“No! Not all, just—Nino’s one of my good friends.”
Chat Noir leaned back so that he was dangling upside down from Marinette’s balcony, feet hooked into the railing.
“C-careful…” She leaned over to get a better look at him.
His scruffy blonde hair stretched towards the street below and his glittering green eyes scanned the rooftops.
“I shouldn’t have asked her so suddenly like that,” he finally said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s avoiding me. It wasn’t exactly fair.”
“Did you mean it?” Marinette asked, though she was afraid that she already knew the answer.
“With all my heart.” He grinned and pulled himself upright. He clung to the railing from the wrong side, as if keeping the barrier between him and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng might protect him from his heartbreak.
“Do you have work left to do?” he asked.
“No, I was just going to—”
He held his hands out to her. The silver claw tips glittered in the city’s lights. “Come with me.”
Her hand moved towards his before she quite realized what she was doing. Hastily, Marinette pulled it back. “I shouldn’t…”
He quirked an eyebrow and gave her a sharp, crooked smile. “Will your beau get jealous?”
“He’s not…” She sighed. It was a terrible idea, as terrible an idea as it had been to dance with Chat Noir in the ballroom that evening. But once again, she found it hard to say no to him.
She took his hands and he pulled her off the roof.
They fell, and it took all of her will power not to call Tikki and transform before they hit the ground. His staff collided with the stones in the street with a loud clang and then they were flying up into the night.
She felt weightless and free. It was like being Ladybug, but with none of the pressures of a hero. She did not need to hurry and make sure no one was hurt. She did not need to hunt for danger. She was just Marinette, an apprentice out far later than she ought to be; she was just a girl sneaking out with the city’s most wanted thief.
It was not far from the bakery to the edge of the city. Chat Noir carried Marinette onto the high wall and set her down carefully and safely in the center of the towering stonework.
She did not know why he had brought her out here, but they stared beyond the city into the forest that grew along its borders, lit only by a pale thin crescent moon.
“Have you been into the Forest of Fay before?” he asked.
She followed his gaze out into the dimly lit trees and wondered what he saw in the darkness.
“Once,” she said. “My master sent me to get a flower.”
“Were you a florist before you were a seamstress? Was that before or after you were a baker?”
He smiled, sharp canines glinting despite the dark night, but there was nothing comfortable or carefree about this smile. She was not sure what to do with it, so she simply accepted it as she might if she had been wearing her spots.
“Very funny,” she rolled her eyes and playfully nudged him with her elbow. “No, it was a rare flower for a special dye. He said he needed it for the royal family’s mourning attire after the queen fell asleep.”
Chat Noir’s smile vanished as suddenly as a candle snuffed out by a breeze. The bell at his throat rattled softly as he swallowed. It was difficult to read his expression behind his mask, but she thought he was trying to fight tears.
“I wanted to ask Ladybug about her gift,” he finally said, voice thin. “It had nothing to do with my proposal today, but I suppose she probably wouldn’t believe me.”
Marinette’s hand twitched with the urge to touch her earrings, but she didn’t dare. “What do you mean?”
Chat Noir searched the dark treeline.
Finally he said, “I visited the Forest of Fay a year ago because I wanted to break a curse. Instead, I gained a curse of my own.” He tightened his hand into a fist and glanced down at his ring. “I started to think that what I wanted was impossible, but tonight someone offered me a way to break that curse, but the price will be steep. I wanted to ask Ladybug if she knew of any other way.”
Chat Noir twisted his hand so that the emeralds caught the moonlight. The pawprint danced across his and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng’s face as he did. He considered, just as he had last night, what it might mean to take the ring off and hand it to her. Or, perhaps it was time to simply toss it back into the Forest of Fay.
He had spent his entire night at Lila’s side, practically begging her to explain what she meant when she had said that she could bring back his mother. He hated that he believed her, but what choice did he have?
She had only told him that it was a family secret, and she could not divulge it to him unless she was his family.
He wanted to ask Ladybug what he ought to do. She knew Lila at least as well as he did, and she could help him assess the risk.
“What’s the price?” Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng asked, and Chat Noir thought she sounded strangely breathless. Perhaps he should have asked if she was afraid of heights before dropping her onto a wall on the edge of a forest. In his defense, she did have a rooftop balcony that she frequented.
He took her hand and pulled her a half-step away from the edge. “I would have to marry someone that I don’t love.”
Her bright blue eyes were pained as she stared up at him. “Is the curse you want to break really worth that?”
It was no question. He could suffer an unhappy marriage if he only had back his mother. But if Lila was lying? If this was merely her attempt to win the crown, and once she had it, she’d go back on her word? That was the risk he was wary of.
“It’s worth everything to me.”
He didn’t know if it was because of Plagg’s magic or if the bakery girl’s heart was truly pounding that hard, but he could feel the pulse of her wrist thrumming staccato notes against his fingers.
“Have you asked for Ladybug’s help?” Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng asked. “Her magic can undo curses, can’t it?”
Chat Noir dropped his gaze. He had thought about it. A dozen times he had wondered and thought to ask, on the nights that hope glimmered like a cold and distant star. “It would mean telling her who I am,” he said. “And if I did that, I would lose her. I…” He laughed, but it was weak and mournful. “I guess I lied. Maybe it isn't worth everything. Maybe it isn't worth losing her.”
Marinette swallowed hard and pulled away from Chat Noir. She felt like she couldn’t breathe and his desperate proposal still echoed in her head.
Would you marry me? Not “will” but would. Would she so much as entertain the possibility of loving him and knowing him and maybe, just maybe, breaking whatever curse hung so heavy over his heart?
“Mademoi—” but Chat Noir’s warning was too slow. Marinette took another step backwards and fell right off of the wall.
Chat Noir lunged forward. His hand closed around her wrist, and he fell, too. His head slammed against the granite slab and his vision went white, but he managed to dig the claws of his other hand into the stone, halting their descent. He did not know what his claws were made of—magic, he supposed—but they dug easily into the granite slab and held him and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng in place.
Marinette stared up at him. His golden hair looked almost silver in the thin moonlight. His eyes were screwed tightly closed and she could see a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.
“Chat Noir!”
He grunted, heaved, and with a sharp hiss of pain and determination, pulled them both back up onto the wall.
She fell on top of him, and neither dared move, lest they tumble back into the forest below. His clawed fingertips brushed against her hip and she shivered.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
She stared down at him, gauging the worry in his eyes and the heartbreak beneath it. His cheek was already beginning to purple and swell where it had struck the wall. Apparently his magic didn’t heal him the way hers did. Her heart stuck in her throat as she recalled every time Chat Noir had dove in front of a hit to protect Ladybug, fully trusting that her Lucky Charm would set him right when it was done. She wouldn’t be able to set him right tonight.
“Mademoiselle?” He cupped her cheek.
“I’m all right,” she whispered back, unsure why they had both decided to speak softly. Though his sharp claws were at her throat, she was not afraid. In fact, it was quite the opposite. She felt more safe here in Chat Noir’s arms than she did curled up in her own bed. Her fingers danced lightly against his bruised cheek. “Are you?”
The bell at his throat jingled softly. “I…” His lips twitched in another grin, but it still lacked the confidence his usual teasing did. “Maybe it’s just the relief that you didn’t die, or perhaps I hit my head terribly hard, but I sort of want to kiss you, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng.”
“But you love Ladybug.” She meant it as a protest, but it came out more like a challenge.
“And you have someone else.”
Someone that she had asked to wait because she wanted things sorted with Chat Noir first. Though it did not feel much like getting things sorted—in fact it was rather the opposite of getting things sorted—Marinette leaned towards him.
He met her halfway in a warm, needy kiss. It was nothing like Luka. Luka was steady and firm; Chat Noir was nothing but want. Her heart pounded less like a nervous drummer and more like a full parade. She tasted the blood of his injury. Electricity bloomed where his claws brushed against her waist and cheek, and where her hand clung to his face as she held him against her. She felt it in her earrings like when she was Ladybug, like when her hand had brushed Prince Adrien’s during the thunderstorm.
She pulled away.
How unfair she was, to think of Chat Noir while kissing Luka and to think of Prince Adrien while kissing Chat Noir. Had it even been an hour since her kiss with Luka?
“I’m sorry,” he said, but Marinette was already apologizing, too.
“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”
“No, I shouldn’t have…” He sat up and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
But Chat Noir knew exactly what he had been thinking. He wanted to know what it would be to kiss a woman he didn’t love and who loved someone else; he wanted to convince himself that maybe he could marry Lila.
Instead, it had been everything he had ever dreamed. His ring still burned, and he was certain he could hear it humming with energy. It was hard to say where Plagg ended and Chat Noir began, but it was clear that both of them had enjoyed kissing Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng far more than they had expected.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to face her tomorrow as she helped him get dressed for the ball.
“I should take you home,” Chat Noir said. “You have work to do tomorrow, don’t you?”
Marinette swallowed. “Yeah, I—I suppose I do.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and turned her face down, away from his, as his arm closed around her waist. Her cheeks were hot and she did not want to know just how red she was.
As he leapt off of the wall and they fell towards the street below, she risked a glance up at him. He leapt from rooftop to rooftop, eyes tight with focus on moving without dropping her. But they still glimmered in the city lights with a shine beyond their supernatural cat-like glare. He looked utterly devastated.
Tears pricked the corners of her own eyes and she buried her face in his chest once more. He smelled like worn leather and moss. The decay of a forest floor clung to him as tightly as his mask. It was not unpleasant, but she knew it was not true to who he was. This was his magic, the magic of destruction and chaos. And beneath that… well, she would never know.
She thought back over the last month and how many times he had tried to tell Ladybug what he needed. He had threatened to reveal himself the night Lila had arrived, the very first night he had told her that he had a deadline. He had tried to tell her after their fight with Volpina that he was done for good. And tonight, he had practically begged Ladybug to marry him.
She had kept him at arm’s length, as she always had, because she needed to protect them both. If Hawk Moth got to either of them…
Was it possible, she wondered, to take down Hawk Moth before the end of the ball?
She didn’t see how, but she was determined to try.
Chat Noir set her back down on her own rooftop. Marinette had never been so unhappy to touch solid ground.
“Do I still have a dance with you for the third night of the ball?” he asked, and she could hear the fear on the edge of his voice.
How many times had she rejected him as Ladybug and turned aside his affection? It was no wonder he was so nervous.
“Yes,” she said with as warm a smile as she could manage. She wanted to add, “Just promise not to kiss me again,” but she couldn’t quite bring it to her lips. In fact, she would not be terribly upset if he kissed her good night right now.
He lingered, as if he, too, was still considering their kiss, even though they had both apologized for it.
“Good night, Mademoiselle,” he finally managed, and leapt off of her balcony.
She watched him go as long as she could, until he disappeared into the darkness of the night. It occurred to her that he was headed in the direction of the palace, and she hoped that he wasn’t going to steal from the royal family.
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danielsoaresramos · 1 year
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I'm unresponsive!
I... I can't believe it! Let's have Miraculous Live-action!! Confirmed even by Jeremy Zag himself on his Instagram stories!!
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taybeilim · 1 year
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#regaipkandili #recepayı #üçaylar #şaban #ramazan #regaip #mirac #kandil #bereket #cin #sure #ahlak #selam #bidat #mescid #cami #ademoğlu #kadirgecesi #insan #dünya #talak #tahrim #mülk #kalem #hakka #mearic #nuh #cin https://www.instagram.com/p/Cn1Zmi6jYVE/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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maselmak · 2 months
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Miraç Kandilimiz Mübarek Olsun. #mirac #kandili
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pdmmakina · 2 months
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Miraç Kandilimiz Mübarek Olsun. #mirac #kandili
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angiecakes1990 · 4 months
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Doesn't he notice Stormy Weather is sabotaging it 😅😂
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borcumvarmi · 2 months
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En Güzel Kandiller ve Anlamları Hep kutlanır ama ne anlama geldikleri pek bilinmez. Kandillerden bahsediyoruz. Bizdeki gibi kültürel anlamda dinin çok yoğun hissedildiği coğrafyalarda kandiller ayrı bir önem taşır. O gece kandil simidi alınır, namaz kılınmıyorsa bile namaz kılınır camiye gidilir, kuran okunur. Yakınlar mutlaka aranır vs. vs. Peki ne anlama geliyor bu kandiller? Kaç kandil var? Kandillerin isimleri neler? Bu yazımızda kandil gecelerinin (Mevlid, Regaib, Miraz, Berat, Kadir) anlamlarını ve çıkış sebeplerini el alalım istedik. https://www.hakdini.com/en-guzel-kandiller-ve-anlamlari_1116.htm
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hattatismailtuluce · 1 year
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"Şüphesiz inkâr edenler Zikr’i (Kur’an’ı) duydukları zaman neredeyse seni gözleriyle devirecekler. (Senin için,) “Hiç şüphe yok o bir delidir” diyorlar. Hâlbuki o (Kur’an), âlemler için ancak bir öğüttür." (Kalem Suresi 51-52) #hat #hattat #hatsanatı #islamicarts #arabiccalligraphy #islamiccalligraphy #art #artwork #sanat #sanatetkinligi #sülüs #hamidaytaç #nazarduasi #nazarduası #nazarayeti #الله #hattatismailtuluce #emaneteserler #miracle #mirac #miraç #miraçkandili (Kütahya) https://www.instagram.com/p/CpXzxHjMUp4/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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ibadyardimdernegi · 1 year
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Miraç Kandili
Afrika
Yemek Faaliyetlerimiz
İbad İnsani Yardım Derneği
0533 789 42 23
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#africa #mirackandili #yemek #afrika #mirac #kandil #bagis #bağış #yardım
#ibad #insani #yardım #derneği #iyiliğebiradımat
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