Miraculous Ladybug College AU Pt 3
Adrien x FemReader x Luka
Guys it's been a long long time. I'm so sorry about that. I've gotten a little more used to using tumblr and have some other fics going that you should check out. This one's going to be a little shorter but hopefully ya'll are still here! Little overlap because it's been a while:
~Word count: ~2.1k
~Warnings: mentions of death, grief, survivor’s guilt, emotional trauma, mild swearing, violence, canon divergence, identity secrecy, burnout, mutual pining, aged-up characters, eventual smut
~Description: Paris didn’t just lose a hero—it lost its balance.
Part one Part Two Part Three Part Four
A soft glow envelops Adrien’s form. His wounds begin to heal, the tears in his suit mend, and the once broken state of his body starts to restore itself. His chest rises and falls a little stronger, his breathing steadier. Her heart dares to hope.
She stands, glancing toward the destruction the Akuma left behind. The damage is still everywhere—more innocent lives in danger. With a flick of her wrist, she starts to head off in the direction of the chaos, ready to finish this once and for all.
But just before she reaches the corner of the street, she stops.
Her legs feel heavy. She looks back at Adrien. Without thinking, she crouches back down beside him. She shouldn’t do it. But her hand moves before her mind can stop it.
The ring.
She grabs it.
And as her fingers close around the familiar piece of jewelry, he fully de-transforms, his civilian clothes replacing the suit he once wore.
Ladybug lifts him carefully, cradling his body in her arms with surprising gentleness. Her breath is shaky but determined as she heads back toward where they last saw Luka.
When she finds him, she hands Adrien off to him, a weight lifted from her own chest, but the weight of the battle still lingers.
“Alright, time to wrap this up,” she mutters to herself, cracking her knuckles as the adrenaline surges through her once more. Her yo-yo swings in the air, and she summons a pair of fighting knives, their blades gleaming with lethal intent, connected by a chain at the bottom.
"Let’s go,” she says under her breath, her voice low and determined.
Ladybug launches herself back into the chaos, boots hitting the pavement in a sprint as the Akuma barrels through another cluster of stalls. Fabric tears, metal screeches, glass shatters—every sound grates against her nerves, fueling the fire already burning in her chest.
She doesn’t hesitate.
With a sharp flick of her wrist, one blade flies forward, the chain whistling through the air before wrapping tight around the wrecking ball’s handle. The impact jerks her forward, feet skidding across the street, but she plants herself and pulls hard, redirecting the swing just enough that it smashes into an empty fruit stand instead of a crowd scrambling nearby.
The Akuma roars, dark energy crackling along its arms as it yanks back. Ladybug is ripped off her feet, airborne for a breathless second before she twists, releases one knife, and uses the momentum to flip over its head. She lands behind it in a crouch, immediately rolling as the wrecking ball crashes down where she’d been a moment earlier, splintering the pavement.
She’s already moving again.
The second blade sinks into the Akuma’s shoulder plating, sparks flying as she uses the chain to climb, boots pounding against its back. Up close, she can see the source of the corruption pulsing through the object clutched at its chest—distorted, vibrating with raw emotion.
Anger. Hurt. Humiliation.
Ladybug grits her teeth.
“Enough,” she mutters, more to herself than to it.
The Akuma reaches back blindly, fingers grazing her leg. She kicks off its spine, flipping backward as she retracts the blades midair and lands hard, rolling through the impact. The ground trembles as it turns to face her, eyes blazing, wrecking ball already swinging again.
This time, she runs straight at it.
At the last possible second, she dives low, sliding beneath the arc of the weapon as it whistles overhead. She slashes upward, the chain wrapping tight around the Akuma’s torso, binding its arms for just a moment—but that’s all she needs.
She yanks, hard.
The Akuma stumbles forward, off balance, and Ladybug uses the pull to vault up, planting both boots against its chest. With a sharp twist, she rips the corrupted object free, landing in a roll as the Akuma freezes mid-step.
The dark energy collapses inward, the massive form dissolving into smoke and light, leaving the trembling civilian behind, dropping to their knees.
Ladybug doesn’t waste a second.
“Time to de-evilize.”
She releases the object, cracks it cleanly with a final strike, and the butterfly flutters free—purple, trembling, lost.
“No more evil doing for you, little akuma.”
The yo-yo snaps out, capturing the butterfly in a burst of red light. She whispers the familiar words, releasing it purified into the air, watching as it disappears into the sky.
Silence settles slowly, broken only by distant sirens and the soft crackle of settling debris.
Ladybug exhales, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline drains from her veins.
She raises her yo-yo one last time.
“Miraculous Ladybug.”
Red light floods the street, sweeping over broken stalls, shattered pavement, torn fabric—everything knitting itself back together in seconds. The market is restored, whole and vibrant once more, as if nothing had happened.
As the magic fades, Ladybug turns, her gaze immediately snapping back to where she left Adrien.
Luka is still there, steady, protective, Adrien cradled carefully against him.
Good.
Another fight is done for now, Paris is safe.
That has to be enough.
She glances down at Adrien once more, making sure his chest still rises and falls evenly, then reaches for her earrings. Red light flickers, fading, and her suit melts away, replaced by her civilian clothes once again.
“How’s he doing?” she murmurs, turning to Luka as she kneels beside the couch, fingers automatically finding Adrien’s pulse.
“He’s fine,” Luka says gently. “Your Lucky Charm healed him. I think he’s just… out now.”
She nods, more to herself than to him, and rises to her feet, already turning as if she expects Luka to follow. There’s only one place she can take him, one place that feels even remotely safe.
Her loft.
The walk back is quiet. Luka trails his bike behind them, guiding it with one hand while keeping Adrien steady with the other. Carrying an unconscious person on a motorcycle would’ve been impossible anyway. This is slower, but safer.
She hums softly as they go, barely aware she’s doing it, a melody from one of Luka’s new songs, the one he’d played for her not long ago. It loops in her head, grounding her, keeping her from thinking too hard about everything that just happened.
The door to her loft is, unsurprisingly, still unlocked.
Luka nudges it open with his foot and carefully lowers Adrien onto the couch. They both linger there, hovering close, sitting on either side of him, unsure of what comes next. Technically, he’s fine. Breathing. Warm. Alive.
They just need to wake him up.
And figure out an excuse. Why he’s here. How they found him. Why nothing about this feels simple.
“I took it,” she says quietly.
The words barely carry, but they land heavy. A confession. One she hadn’t planned to make, one she knows she shouldn’t have, and one she has no idea how to fix.
Luka looks at her then, really looks at her.
“Why?” he asks, voice calm but piercing, eyes searching straight through her.
She has no answer.
All she can do is shrug, shoulders tight, throat burning as she stands abruptly, turning away before the tears can fall. She moves toward the kitchen, opening the freezer and pulling out a tray of ice, hands trembling just slightly.
Maybe the cold will wake him up.
Maybe it will wake all of them up.
Because once Adrien opens his eyes, she has no idea what will happen.
Adrien stirs first.
It’s subtle at first, a twitch of his fingers, a faint crease forming between his brows. She notices immediately, ice bowl still clutched too tightly in her hands, knuckles white. Luka does too. They both freeze, like movement alone might shatter something fragile.
Adrien exhales sharply and blinks, eyes unfocused as they track the ceiling above him.
“…Ow,” he mutters.
Relief crashes through her chest so hard it almost knocks the breath out of her. She’s at his side in a second, kneeling, setting the ice down on the table with shaking hands.
“Hey,” she says softly. Too softly. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
His gaze flickers to her face, confusion settling in slow and heavy. “Why does it feel like I got hit by a truck… and then another truck?”
Luka lets out a quiet huff, the sound halfway between a laugh and a breath of relief. “Guess that means you’re alive.”
Adrien turns his head slightly, squinting. “Luka? What are you, why am I here?”
There it is. The moment she knew was coming.
She opens her mouth, then closes it again. The lie forms quickly, too quickly, she's gotten too good at lying and it makes her sick.
“There was an akuma attack near the market,” she says. “You got knocked out when things went south. We couldn’t just leave you there.”
Adrien frowns, clearly trying to piece it together. “I remember… noise. Screaming. Something heavy swinging—” He winces, hand lifting to his temple. “And then… red.”
Her heart skips. Just once.
“Red?” Luka repeats casually, but his eyes flick to her, sharp despite the relaxed tone.
Adrien shakes his head like he’s trying to dislodge the thought. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m mixing it up with a dream.”
“Probably adrenaline,” she says quickly. Too quickly again. “You passed out hard.”
He studies her for a moment longer than necessary, green eyes lingering on her face like he’s searching for something he can’t quite name. Then he nods, easing back against the couch.
“Guess I owe you both,” he murmurs. “Thanks… for not letting me die in the street.”
The words hit harder than they should.
“I’m gonna call my driver,” he adds after a beat, pushing himself upright.
She notices it immediately, his hand drifting toward his finger out of habit.
He knows.
She can feel it, the moment of realization hitting him. His hand pauses, curls slightly, then drops. For a second he turns back toward them, mouth parting like he’s about to ask something, anything, but whatever thought crosses his mind, he swallows it.
Instead, he pats his pockets in visible distress before pulling out his phone and turning away.
Only then does Luka speak.
“You want to explain now,” he says quietly, “or later?”
She stiffens.
They move into the kitchen, just far enough away that Adrien won’t hear. The loft feels different in the low light—smaller somehow, heavier. She leans against the counter, arms folding tightly across her chest like she’s trying to hold herself together.
“I didn’t have time,” she says. It sounds like a defense. Maybe it is. “He was hurt. I panicked.”
“You took it anyway,” Luka replies.
He knows. He knows that wasn’t the whole reason, and he isn’t willing to call her out on it with Adrien still here.
Her throat tightens. She looks down at her hands, still faintly trembling. “I thought if I didn’t… if I hesitated...”
“You chose for him,” Luka says gently. “I get why. I really do. But you still chose.”
Silence stretches between them, thick and uncomfortable.
“What happens when he wants it back?” Luka asks. “Or when he needs it?”
She doesn’t answer. She can’t.
“You can’t keep thinking you can do everything on your own,” he continues softly, reaching out to rest his hand on her arm. “You’re going to need help.”
She hisses sharply at the contact.
Her bruises didn’t heal. She used her lucky charm too early—too focused on Adrien, too desperate to make sure he was okay to notice the damage to herself. Or to the surrounding areas still torn apart outside.
There’s a crew for that, she thinks dimly. If not… I’ll start one.
“You take it,” she blurts suddenly, fingers tightening around Luka’s wrist where his hand meets her arm. “Be my Kitty, I trust you.”
Her voice sounds wrong, too raw, too desperate. Wounded in more ways than one.
She knows he’s going to say no.
And he does.
He’s had the snake miraculous. He knows too much. He knows what it costs.
She nods once, the movement stiff, and sinks back into the couch like the weight finally caught up with her.
This would be easier if I could erase memories.
The thought barely forms before she shoves it away. That would be too far. She knows that. She has to know that.
She watches Adrien from across the room as he finishes his call, his fingers flexing restlessly at his side, like something is missing and his body hasn’t accepted it yet.
She doesn’t know what to do.
And no matter what choice she makes, she knows it’s going to be messy.
For once, she can’t find it in herself to care.
She made a mistake. She’ll take the fall.
But for now...
For now, she’ll do this on her own.
______________________________________________________
Crashes sound around her,
She can't do this on her own...
_______________________________________________________
Part one Part Two Part Three Part Four
Tag list:
@fatenpara
@00hellohello00
@crystalrainforest
@dreamreaperrr
