Happy birthday to the APS server! I’ve drawn Adrien in daylight imagery (Fae AU) and now I’ve drawn him in night time imagery. What’s next? Twilight? 😂
Summary: When Adrien hears about a drive to give back to the heroes of Paris, he writes a heartfelt note telling Ladybug how much she is appreciated.
Years later, he finds that same note again in an unlikely place.
This fic has two reasons for existing! The first is that it celebrates the one year anniversary of my favorite server on Discord being created, and I have truly grown to love and appreciate it. Not to mention all the friends I've made through it!
The second reason - and what provided the specific inspiration for this story - comes from this post by @lnc2.
Enjoy!
Read on Ao3
Adrien’s fingers wandered aimlessly among the keys of his piano. Sometimes he did it to think, to let his mind drift in a trance, but most of the time he just needed a reprieve from his thoughts altogether. To let himself be completely immersed in the music as it unfolded in front of him, changing from moment to moment.
The music was a great escape. It was hard to hold onto frustration and anger when he was at the piano. Adrien suddenly froze and groaned. At least, it was a great escape as long as his mind didn’t circle back to what he was trying to get away from in the first place. Thoroughly back in the present, he walked over to his computer to look for another distraction.
Naturally, his first stop was the Ladyblog. He was only two articles down when he saw her announcement for a special event for Heroes Day. There was going to be a drop off box where the grateful citizens of Paris can send gifts and notes to their favorite heroes. Alya had apparently already gotten Ladybug’s permission and Adrien wondered when that had happened.
“Yeah it was like two or three akumas ago.” Adrien started before noticing Plagg, who continued talking with a smirk and a satisfied swish of his tail. “You were running out of time, but she had lots of it so she hung around to answer questions by the adoring public.” Plagg took a bite out of his cheese. “Guess that was when.”
“Huh…” Adrien said, the gears in his head already turning.
“What’s up? Already looking forward to all that cheese you’ll be getting?”
Adrien scrunched up his forehead. “Why would I be getting cheese?”
“Well what else are they going to send you? Cheese is obviously the best call.” Plagg tossed his wedge into the air and caught it with his mouth. The kwami floated off the desk.
“There’s loads better stuff than that! Like-” Adrien’s eyes widened. “Wait. This is a great opportunity!”
“What are you on about, kid?”
Adrien turned around in his seat to look at Plagg. “I could send Ladybug a present through the drop off!”
“...Kid you know her. You could just give her something next time you’re on patrol or something. Heck, you’ve done that before!”
“Yeah, but this is a chance to give her stuff she’d never accept from Chat Noir,” Adrien said, turning back to his desk. He pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen and started writing.
The gifts he could figure out later - maybe a flower or some jewelry or clothes - but the critical thing was getting his emotions onto paper. Several crumbled up failures later and he was carefully finishing his masterpiece. If that didn’t make her feel loved, nothing would.
“Well, don’t forget to sign it I guess,” Plagg reminded, sounding bored.
Adrien shook his head as he folded up the paper. “It’ll stay anonymous.”
“Huh? What’s the point then? I thought you were trying to get her to fall for you or whatever?”
“No. I just… I want her to know she’s appreciated and, well…” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “If I don’t sign it, it’ll be like if all of Paris sent her the letter, you know?”
“Not really, but whatever floats your boat, kid.”
By that time the following day, Adrien had picked out a few presents - a rose with a ribbon, a charm bracelet, and a few other things besides. Storing them and the note in a box, he wrapped it and dropped it off with Alya as soon as he could.
------------
Years passed and before he knew it, Adrien and all his friends were graduating from school. It was a strange new world they were heading into - Nino had gotten a great opportunity to follow his dreams of being a DJ in Nice. Likewise, Alya had landed an internship as a journalist there. By the end of the summer, both of them would be moving out of Paris.
But not everything was changing. There were still akumas, which meant that Adrien needed to stay close at hand to keep Paris safe. At least he’d be in good company - Marinette had been accepted to a Parisian university where she could pursue her ambitions of becoming a great designer. Not that she wasn’t already, Adrien thought with a smile.
Their last summer together was bittersweet. Friends had come and gone over the years, but those four had stayed the best of friends for that entire time. Now it seemed to be coming to an end, even as they all tried to find their way in the world. Who knew when the whole gang would come together again?
Maybe it was helping Marinette move today that had gotten him thinking about it so much. Which was itself a nostalgic trip as they helped pack away mementos of their times together. How often had Adrien come over after school to play Ultimate Mecha Strike with Marinette? The movie nights all four of them had spent there?
Things got quieter when Alya and Marinette left to buy more boxes - even Marinette had underestimated just how much stuff she had to pack. Nino and Adrien joked around like usual, but there was a somberness under it all that they just couldn’t shake no matter how hard they tried to keep things lighthearted.
Adrien almost welcomed it when Nino fumbled one of the boxes and took their minds off of it. At least he would have if the box hadn’t torn open and disgorged its contents onto the floor.
“Dang, dude,” Nino said as he stared at the mess he’d made. “M’s gonna kill me for sure if this stuff got busted.”
“Don’t sweat it, man.” Adrien put a comforting hand on Nino’s shoulder. “See if you can scrap up another box somewhere. I’ll pick all this stuff up and get it ready.”
Nino tipped his cap at him. “Thanks bro. You’re a real everyday Chat Noir!”
Adrien rolled his eyes at the phrase. After he’d thrown that party for Marinette and made his little speech, everyone had started using it.
“No problem. Take your time, though,” Adrien added as he sat down on the floor. “Looks like I’m going to be here a while.”
“Right on.”
Something didn’t seem quite right when he got to work sorting through the stuff. It must’ve been one of the boxes that Marinette had already packed by the time they got there, since he didn’t recognize any of it at all.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. All of them stirred up memories - old sketchbooks that were filled and forgotten. Scraps of fabric from pieces that Adrien remembered her finishing years ago. An old black umbrella.
“She still has this?” Adrien murmured to himself in awe. He laid it back down reverently - if it weren’t for that umbrella, the two of them might not have been friends, after all.
That was when he saw it. At first, he thought it was just another notebook, but there was something poking out of the bottom of it that caught his eye. Curious, he reached for the book.
The final date was from three years ago, but he could tell from the wear on the spine that it had been opened and closed many, many times. He flipped open the book and the faint scent of a rose reached his nose. The book naturally opened up to a page that had a pressed rose tied with a ribbon on it. That must have been what was poking out of the bottom. Taking the flower, he spun it between his fingers and watched the ribbon dance around it. There was something oddly familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
Something fell out of the book and drew his attention away from the preserved rose. It was a folded piece of paper. As he picked it up, he could feel from the softness of the paper that it had been unfolded and refolded many, many times.
Following in Marinette’s footsteps, he unfolded it once more.
At first, he could only cringe at it. Whoever had wrote it clearly had a crush on Marinette, but some sense of curiosity had gotten the better of him and he needed to keep reading. As he continued, there was a nagging suspicion at the back of his mind that he’d seen this letter somewhere before. But that couldn’t be right, could it? Unless he-
His eyes widened. Unless he was the one who wrote it! But that made even less sense - he couldn’t remember ever writing Marinette a note where he thanked her for ‘saving the day more times than he cared to count’ nor where he called her ‘an inspiration to all of them’. Granted, he’d probably said stuff like that to her over the years but-
Then it hit him like a clap of thunder. The rose and its ribbon only confirmed it for him. As clear as day, he could remember writing this very letter years ago, but it wasn’t for Marinette - it was for Ladybug!
It all made sense. No one could figure out why Marinette had declined going to that school in London she’d really liked. Most of them had assumed it was just because she would miss Paris too much. But she could hardly fight akumas while she was in London, could she?
The door opens and Adrien looks up to see Marinette standing there like a figure from a dream.
She glances down to see the letter in one hand and the rose in the other. A blush spreads across her face, but he barely notices as he stands up. She is stammering something, but he can’t hear it over the pounding of his heart in his ears.
Her bright blue eyes look up at him as he finally crosses the distance between them. He drops the note, forgotten immediately once again so he can cup her cheek with one hand. The rest of the world falls away as well as he whispers to her, quiet and sure:
Written for the APS server’s first birthday! Thank y’all for creating such an amazing and fun space.
Summary: One lesson Adrien Agreste should have learned by now: Never ask what are the odds when you have the luck of a black cat.
Rating: G
Word count: 1767
Read on AO3
__________________________________________
Adrien Agreste is wide awake.
He’s been lying in Marinette’s loft bed for ten minutes now, one arm slung over Marinette and his chin tucked against her shoulder, sure that if he just waits, he’ll fall back asleep.
This isn’t the first time that he’s sneaked into her room as Chat Noir and slept beside her. In fact, ever since they found out each other’s identities two weeks ago and started dating, it’s fairly commonplace.
It is, however, the first time he’s woken up desperately having to go to the bathroom.
He doesn’t want to disturb her, and what’s more, he doesn’t really want to risk going downstairs. What if someone sees him? The chances are slim, but then, Adrien’s never had the best luck.
Adrien groans and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore the ache in his bladder. It’s no use, though: despite the grogginess in his head, he can’t fall back asleep, and there’s no way he’s going to last until morning.
With a sigh, he eases the covers back and crawls out from under them. As he does, Marinette mumbles and rolls over to face him, her fingers tugging at his shirt sleeve.
“Where’re you going?” she asks, words slurred by sleep.
“Bathroom,” Adrien whispers. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right back.”
He smooths back her bangs and kisses her forehead, then crawls to the foot of the bed and descends the ladder. Walking lightly so that the floor doesn’t creak, he crosses to the trapdoor and opens it ever-so-slightly.
Holding his breath, Adrien listens for the sound of voices or footsteps below.
Silence greets him. Satisfied, Adrien eases the door open and lowers his body through it.
He can get there and back in less than a minute. The chances that either one of Marinette’s parents will also decide to go to the bathroom in the forty-five seconds it takes Adrien to pee—well, the chances are so low, in fact, that they might as well be nonexistent.
And so, moving as silently as his superhero namesake, Adrien creeps downstairs toward the Dupain-Cheng bathroom.
*** *** *** *** *** ***
Tom Dupain awakes with a need.
He had a feeling he shouldn’t have chugged that bottle of water before bed, but what’s done is done; now he is awake in the middle of the night and forced to deal with the consequences.
With a heavy sigh, he rolls out of bed and drags himself to the bedroom door. Sabine’s quiet snores fill the room, assuring him that at least he hasn’t woken her up.
He opens the door and steps outside, moving as quietly as his weight will allow—and that’s when he sees a figure standing outside the bathroom door, frozen with its hands raised in surrender.
The stranger is too tall to be Marinette, but too small to be an adult. Nonetheless, adrenaline courses through Tom’s veins, and he takes a threatening step forward. “Who are you?” he asks. He reaches toward the wall and taps the light switch, bathing the room in dim amber light.
The stranger doesn’t say anything, but Tom’s question is answered: because standing in front of him, hair sticking up, eyes wide, is his daughter’s classmate Adrien Agreste.
“Adrien Agreste?” Tom says.
Knowing the intruder’s identity does not make things any clearer. Why is a teen idol who lives several blocks away standing outside Tom Dupain’s bathroom at three in the morning? Is this a dream? And if so, why is Tom dreaming about his daughter’s crush breaking into their apartment in the middle of the night?
“I, um…” Adrien’s eyes flick toward the kitchen window, almost as if he’s considering that as an escape route. “Our toilet is broken.”
Tom stares at him, not sure he’s heard correctly. Maybe there’s too much wax in his ears again. “What did you say?”
“Our…toilet broke, so…I came here?”
As the parent of a fourteen year-old, Tom Dupain is well-acquainted with teenagers and their bizarre excuses. On a scale of one to ten, he ranks Adrien’s a three. While a broken toilet is not unheard of, there are too many holes in this story: how did Adrien get in, if their front door is locked and everyone is asleep? If Adrien lives in a mansion, shouldn’t his father be able to afford twenty-four-seven toilet fixing?
And the most unbelievable part of all, which is how Tom knows for a fact that Adrien is lying: there is no way the Agrestes only have one toilet in their house.
“How did your toilet break?” Tom asks, narrowing his eyes.
“Uh.” Adrien clears his throat. “Water…rabbits.”
“Water rabbits.”
“They’re not actually rabbits,” Adrien says. “They are bugs. That…eat metal. And toilets.”
Tom squints at him. Maybe this is a dream. Isn’t Adrien supposed to be at the top of his class? This excuse is so disappointing that Tom is tempted to call Adrien’s father, just to tell him that Adrien needs to work on his improvisation skills.
“Water not-rabbits ate your toilet, you say,” Tom says. “Do I look stupid to you, Adrien Agreste?”
“No!” Adrien says. “They just got in the pipes. And…” He grimaces. “Okay. I lied. I clogged the toilet.”
Ah. Tom was once a teenage boy who did not understand how to use toilet paper in moderation. He’ll give Adrien the benefit of the doubt, although two questions still remain. “And you only have one toilet in that big mansion of yours?”
“There’s something wrong with the tank in the downstairs one,” Adrien says, his voice steadier than before. “It overflows if you flush it, and we can’t get someone to look at it until tomorrow morning. There is another one in my father’s room, but I didn’t want to wake him up to tell him that I clogged the toilet. He’s gotten mad about smaller things.”
Tom’s stubborn parental streak rears its head, and he fights the urge to spontaneously adopt Adrien Agreste. He can’t do that, of course. After all, Marinette can’t date Adrien if Tom adopts him, and since Marichat doesn’t seem to be happening yet, he supposes Adrienette is the second-best option.
Of course, Tom knows Adrienette won’t last. Especially not if Adrien is the type of boy who breaks into people’s homes and attempts to surreptitiously uses their toilets.
Which brings Tom to his final question. “Why our toilet? And how did you get in?”
“Oh, um, well…” Adrien rubs the back of his neck. “I texted Marinette, and she was kind enough to let me in. And she didn’t see a need to wake you up, since she was sure you would say yes!” He smiles tightly, eyes wide. “Um. You would have said yes, right?”
“I would,” Tom says, leaning forward. Adrien cowers slightly, and it occurs to Tom that maybe his stature is a bit intimidating.
Good. Let all teenage boys (or girls) cower before him. Tom Dupain doesn’t need a shovel talk; his body will be the shovel talk.
“But where is she?” Tom asks. Adrien’s excuse is approaching an eight or nine on the scale, but some loose ends remain. “Why didn’t she wait down here with you? My daughter is responsible. She must have known this would look bad. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were…”
And then it hits Tom: it looks an awful lot like Marinette sneaked a boy into her room in the middle of the night.
OCCAM’S RAZOR, his mind booms.
Adrien flinches, and that’s all it takes for Tom’s Papa Senses to start tingling. “Adrien,” he says, his voice low. “Did my daughter—”
“No!” Adrien says. “No. Marinette would never do something like that. Neither would I! I—I’m not like that. I’ve never even seen Marinette’s room! Or, well, I have—but only once, when we practiced for that gaming tournament. Technically twice, since it was on TV that one time—”
“Where is she?” Tom repeats. He can practically feel his mustache trembling with suppressed fatherly rage.
“Oh! Right.” Adrien’s throat jumps as he swallows. “She just, uh, heard something skittering around upstairs, and thought it might be a mouse, so she went to—”
“There are mice in my bakery?” Tom bellows.
“No!” Adrien says. “Or, I mean, I don’t know. Maybe it was a squirrel!”
“That’s still a rodent!” Tom says. His concerns about Sabine’s sleep evaporate, and he turns to pound on their bedroom door. “Sabine! Wake up! There are rodents in our bakery!”
“Maybe there aren’t!” Adrien says. “It’s probably cockroaches—no, wait! Dust mites! I’m sure it’s just dust mites. I’m sure if you had enough of them they could make some noise—um, actually, could we continue this conversation after I’ve gone to the bathroom, please?”
And then a familiar figure appears at the bottom of the stairs, yawning as she tugs at one of her pigtails. “Adrien,” she says, “when are you coming back up? You’ve been gone for more…than…” She trails off, eyes widening as they focus on Tom.
Tom feels like his eyes are glowing red, and judging by the look on Adrien’s face, they very well might be. “You were upstairs, were you, Adrien? That’s strange. There’s not an entrance to our house upstairs.”
Adrien’s eyes dart to the bathroom door, then to Tom, then to Marinette—then, again, to the window for some reason. His hand creeps toward the bathroom door, fingers curled to clutch the knob.
“Don’t you dare,” Tom says.
Adrien pauses, hand lightly grasping the handle.
Tom glowers at him, a low growl building in his throat.
“Adrien,” Marinette squeaks. “Please don’t leave me to explain this by myse—”
“I’m sorry!” Adrien yelps. Fast as lightning, he wrenches the door open and ducks inside.
Tom lunges forward, hand grabbing the knob—but it’s too late. He hears the tell-tale click from the other side as Adrien locks himself in the bathroom, and the knob refuses to twist.
“You can’t hide in there forever!” Tom says.
“Tom,” Sabine’s voice says, from behind him. “What’s going on? Did I hear you say something about rodents?”
“Rodents?” Marinette echoes.
In a desperate display of strength, Tom twists harder at the knob, and harder—until it pops right off the door with a cracking noise.
“Oh my god,” Marinette says. “You sealed him in.”
“He did what?” Adrien’s voice cries.
“Enjoy our toilet, Adrien Agreste,” Tom says, with his most menacing voice. He raises the door knob like a sword. “Enjoy it, because this is the last time I let you near my toilet—or my daughter—ever again.”
Here’s the piece I did for the APS server brithday. I met many talented and wonderful people there so I wanted to do something in celebration. I also wrote a small oneshot to go with it. You can read it on Ao3 here if you prefer.
The night sky is sparkling with stars, no clouds or moon in sight. The light emanating from the city creates an aura in the sky. The air is a little chilly, but holding Marinette close keeps her from shivering and keeps me warm too, both physically and my heart. Her head lays on my shoulder, her untied hair caressing my arm. The lucky charm she gave me slides up my forearm when I pull her closer. Tikki sleeps on her shoulder and Plagg on my lap. His purr echoes feebly around us, a soothing presence in the night, though I always preferred the dark hours. Everything is calmer, no one is in a hurry to get somewhere, no expectations from anyone. It’s relaxing when your day is filled to the brim with activities and work. I don’t know if it’s only because of the miraculous, but the night makes me feel alive, free.
It had been so long since I looked at the stars with someone. Mother loved them before everything that happened… Pointing at the stars and drawing constellations with my finger, both real ones, and made-up ones. We used to laugh at the stories and sometimes, I would pretend to be a hero and save her from the monsters the myths described. Minotaurs, Hydra, basilisks, I must have faced them all. Then, when I was tired, we cuddled under a blanket on the pavement since Father had been terrorized when we went on the roof. The view up there had been amazing.
I spot Ursa Major with its recognizable cauldron shape. Not far below, stars form a curved line: the lynx. I raise my left arm and point the constellation to my girlfriend.
"You see those stars there, the Eiffel tower points at them? They form the constellation of the Lynx, fitting huh, princess? This cat is an expert to spot others of his kind… It has the shape of a curved line. It’s not one that was discovered by the Greeks or the Romans, it was introduced in the seventeenth century. You need good eyes to see it."
She stays silent so I continue.
"Up there is Ursa Major, it looks like a cauldron. I bet you know this one since it’s the one most people remember. If we lay down, we could probably find Ursa Minor and Polaris, the north star."
I look down at her and smile fondly. Her eyes are closed and she is breathing slowly. She fell asleep while I was looking at the stars. I reach to the blanket I brought with me, as she brought macarons, and drape it over our shoulders, taking special care that Marinette would not be cold. It’s a light blue, the same as my scarf she made. It’s very soft and warm like a warming presence, as if she was with me whenever I’m alone. She snuggles closer to me and I gently pick Tikki off her shoulder before laying her next to Plagg so she wouldn’t fall.
I look up to the stars again, wondering if Mother is somewhere up there, watching over me. I know that stars are just balls of fire, but many myths and legend tell of the deceased watching over us like stars. Even if it isn’t true, I will always have people caring for me, no matter what. Marinette’s soft snores and Plagg’s purrs remind me that we should head home soon. I gently wake up the kwamis and transforms to carry my princess to our bed in her tower. I cradle her in my arms and she lays her hands over my heart. Tikki floats next to me, ready to get to a comfier bed. If it is what the future holds for me, I’ll gladly take it.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: T
Summary: Chat Noir isn't allowed to cry over his father. But even when he's just Adrien, Ladybug won't abandon him. Hawkmoth reveal hurt/comfort + Ladrien
Word Count: 4720
Notes: For the APS server birthday and as a gift to @leviaana, inspired by her art! Also Marinette and Adrien are 17-18 here, about old enough to move out
XXX
It was wrong how pristine his designer suit looked when the crackle of magic wore off. The leather of his transformation hadn’t crumpled the jacket or crisply ironed pants beneath. His breathing came hard and haggard as if he’d run for kilometers—he had—yet not a spot of sweat dotted the white button-up.
He wished he could tear the expensive clothes off. He settled for shrugging out of the suit jacket and collapsing on the roof of Montparnasse Tower.
“Adrien?” Plagg asked, his voice as soft and brittle as it had been moments before Adrien called claws out and trapped him in the ring. “Please, kid, say something.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, warding off tears that shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t come. He was a superhero. Tonight was—was a success, even if the bile rising in his throat said otherwise. He’d finally found the secret that he and Ladybug had been searching for these three years.
Hawkmoth’s identity.
“Shouldn’t have… eaten so many pastries,” he said through a grimace.
“Kid, now isn’t the time for jokes! I saw what you did. Your dad is—”
“Not my dad.” He clenched his teeth. Not now, not ever. Just not. “And I… wasn’t joking.”
He really shouldn’t have snuck so many pastries at the party. Maybe then his stomach wouldn’t be threatening to empty itself all over the roof every time he moved.
It was a weak excuse, but easier than facing the panic that pulsed hotter with each breath.
“Adrien…”
“You should hide,” he whispered. “Ladybug will be here any minute.”
Plagg crossed his arms. “No way. I’m staying out here where I can spot any butterflies before they fly into that thick skull of yours.”
Normally Adrien would’ve laughed, but he was pretty sure if he tried, he’d end up either crying or vomiting. He might do both anyway.
“He only had one. In his cane.”
He swallowed, trying to stop the flash of purple light from echoing against his eyelids, the way it had reflected on the hall’s polished hardwood.
“You don’t know that. There’s no telling what your—what Hawkmoth has up his sleeves.”
Plagg was right. There was too much he didn’t know about Hawkmoth. Too much he didn’t know about the man he used to call Father.
He wouldn’t akumatize me, he wanted to believe. Even if he has another butterfly, he wouldn’t. He told Nathalie to keep me safe.
“Are you going to tell her?” Plagg asked. “Shouldn’t you suit up again? I snuck enough cheese cubes at the party. I’m good for another round.”
Things were really bad if Plagg wasn’t demanding Camembert before transforming again. It was the biggest proof Adrien had that he wasn’t overreacting.
“No. I told her that Adrien wanted to talk to her when I called.”
Plagg’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”
But then red streaked across the indigo haze, and the kwami darted into his abandoned suit jacket.
“Adrien!” Ladybug effortlessly transitioned from her swing into a run, then to kneeling at his side. “What’s wrong? Chat told me you needed to see me as soon as possible—”
And then he was crumbling into her arms, barely holding back the saltwater behind his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, because they weren’t friends. They weren’t anything. Right now he was just a civilian, and she was the hero of Paris. Sure, she’d saved Adrien a time or two (or three, or seventeen; he’d journaled about each occasion in excruciating detail). But that didn’t give him the right to just hold her, or be held by her.
Plagg had asked why. This was the pathetic truth. Adrien was nobody to her, while Chat Noir was supposed to be her support against Hawkmoth.
Chat Noir wasn’t allowed to cry over his father.
“What happened? Are you hurt? Was there an akuma?” Ladybug’s questions came rapid-fire as she shifted him into a more comfortable position, his head cradled in the crook of her neck. “Why did Chat Noir leave you here alone?”
All he could do was shake silently, a few tears breaking free of their dam and spilling down the groove of her spine. Pathetic. He was pathetic, and overemotional, and everything Father had accused him of, and—
“Father is Hawkmoth,” he choked out.
There. At least he’d given her the information she needed. He’d been useful for something.
Ladybug jerked back, and for a moment he thought she’d release him, treat him as if he was as tainted as his father. But she only pulled back far enough to meet his wet eyes. It was hard not to flinch under her searching gaze.
“Did he hurt you? Oh my gosh, he didn’t try to akumatize you, did he?”
“I… no. Not me.” He bit his lip. “One of the designers at the party, I think. He—he was insulting her designs, and then he left and…”
Purple light.
“Nooroo, dark wings rise!”
His enemy standing at the end of the deserted hallway, his back to Adrien.
“Keep my son away from the battle, Nathalie.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ladybug’s arms enfolding him. Rocking him gently back and forth, her hand stroking up and down his spine, warm through the thin dress shirt.
“It’s going to be okay, Adrien. Chat Noir and I, we’ll… well. We’ll have to take him down,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” He gave a shaky laugh.
He wouldn’t count on Chat Noir being too useful in this fight. What if he hesitated? What if he wasn’t strong enough to fight back against the man who had taken his freedom for so long?
“Because he’s your dad,” she said as if that was obvious. “I’ve never liked the way he treats you, but still… you’ve already lost so much.”
“You—you know?” Not only did she know, but she cared. About Adrien.
It was almost enough to push out the thick panic lining his lungs.
“Er—forget I said that,” she mumbled. “Do you have somewhere to stay, if… what am I saying! I can’t do this to you.”
He felt a few drops of water soak through his sleeve. At first he thought it was rain, before he heard Ladybug’s sniffle.
“Ladybug, I-I’m sorry.”
He pulled back, wishing he could kiss away the tears from the lip of her mask, the curve of her cheeks.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Adrien.” She wiped the offending water away with the back of her hand. “I just wish there was some way to stop Hawkmoth without taking away the last family you have left.”
That was what she was worried about? He thought she might be frightened at the thought of finally facing Hawkmoth, but he should’ve known better. She was made of firmer stuff than that.
“He’s not,” he said firmly.
“W-what?”
“He’s not my family. Not anymore. Not after what he’s done to Paris, to my friends, to—to you.” His voice barely stumbled over those last words.
Her lips parted in surprise, and despite everything else that had happened tonight, he still wished he could kiss her. Maybe some of her courage would rub off on him, diffuse into his lungs.
“He’s never really been much of a father to me, anyway,” he mumbled before she could catch the blush staining his cheeks. “I kept hoping, and hoping, and sometimes he’d do something that would surprise me, like let me watch mom’s movie or duet with me, but then he’d—he’d just shut me out, and I told myself it was just because he missed mom, that he’d get better, but he—”
His shoulders shook in a silent sob. Why was he saying all this? Just because he’d always wanted to confide in Ladybug didn’t mean she’d want to hear it. He’d just told her Hawkmoth’s identity; she’d want to make a plan with Chat Noir.
He couldn’t be Chat Noir. Not now. Not until he could bury his hurt and anger and grief so far down that Hawkmoth would never find it.
Because Hawkmoth might not akumatize Adrien Agreste, but he would have no problem taking advantage of Chat Noir.
“You deserve so much better than him, Adrien.” She kept up the soothing motion on his back, and he tried to time his inhales with each stroke up, exhales with each stroke down. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re so kind, and forgiving, and just… good. And you’ve been living with him.”
“I’m not, though.” He shook his head, accidentally shaking off her embrace. He fell back onto his heels, arms wrapping around his knees. “I’m not forgiving. I don’t know that I can ever forgive him for…”
For pretending to care about me.
Gabriel didn’t care. For all that he said “Keep my son away from the battle,” he could care less whether anyone else got hurt. All he wanted was to lock Adrien in a glass care where he could be seen but never touched, like an enchanted rose in a fairy tale.
“You don’t have to, you know,” she murmured and placed a hand on his knee.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I know. I think. I don’t…”
A pathetic whimper escaped him. If his father—if Hawkmoth had another butterfly, Adrien would be a prime akuma target, family or not.
It was just too much.
“You don’t have to know. Just breathe for now. Breathe with me.”
He’d lost the rhythm when he broke their embrace. Now like a plant seeking the sun, he folded back into her arms.
Breathe. Breathe. He wasn’t alone. His Lady wouldn’t leave him alone.
“Thank you, my—Ladybug.”
“Of course, Adrien. I’ll always be here to protect you.”
Warmth flooded his veins at her words, but guilt quickly mixed with it.
“I was supposed to protect you,” he whispered.
“What?”
“N-nothing.” His face heated. He pressed his cheek to her shoulder, where she wouldn’t see. “Do you have a plan?” He asked to change the subject.
“Not yet. I’m kind of too mad at your dad to think straight right now.” She laughed shakily. Even broken as the sound was, it was hard not to join in.
“Join the club.”
A jolt ran through him as he realized what he’d said.
He was mad at his father. He was allowed to be mad at his father. No more excuses for his behavior, no more hoping next time would be different.
His father was Hawkmoth, and Adrien was angry enough to fight him.
“I should call Chat Noir. He’s pretty good at coming up with plans when he wants to. I also want his explanation for why he left you alone on this roof.”
He winced at that. “I’m sure he had a good reason.”
She frowned. “I can’t think of anything more important than keeping you safe. Did you tell him that Gabriel is Hawkmoth? I hope he didn’t do anything reckless...”
“Er… technically, no. I didn’t tell him, I mean.”
Her eyes widened. “Was he with you when you found out?”
“...Something like that.” His pulse raced at the thought of her connecting the dots. For so long he’d wanted her to know her identity, but now? She would never be able to trust him to help take down Hawkmoth.
He wanted to bring the terrorist to justice. He of all people deserved to.
The anger pumping in his veins was still unfamiliar, still mixed with fear and guilt and grief. But he wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t hesitate. His Lady would be depending on him to be strong when the time came.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” She asked quietly. He barely heard her over the whistling breeze.
Yes. No. I don’t know.
“I think… if we could just stay like this for a while… that would be nice.”
She held him tighter. “Of course.”
He could feel her heartbeat. Or maybe it was his. It was hard to tell while he clung to her like she was his raft in the center of a storm. He would be strong, later. But for now, he allowed himself this.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed before the arms around him loosened, letting the cold back in. It still wasn’t long enough. He guessed it never would be.
“Adrien?” Ladybug’s bottom lip was trapped between her teeth.
“Yeah?” He asked, suddenly worried that he’d asked too much of her.
“I was going to offer to take you home, but… will you be safe there? Do you need somewhere else to stay?”
It was a question he had to confront, but he’d hoped to put off a little longer. Gabriel would notice if he was gone. At least, Nathalie would, and she would tell him. It would be even more obvious if he never returned to the party.
But could he really go back?
“I’ll… I’ll find somewhere,” he said, fear barely giving way to resolve. Or maybe it was just a different kind of fear. He couldn’t go back. Returning would be the smart thing—it would keep suspicion off of him, and it would give him a chance to spy on Hawkmoth. But the thought made him more sick than the half-dozen pastries he’d eaten.
How often did he see Gabriel at home, anyway?
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe,” Ladybug said firmly. “Where do you want me to take you?”
Where? Who would take him in on no notice, wouldn’t ask questions, wouldn’t send him back to Gabriel?
“Nino,” he realized near instantly. “I think… I know I’ll be safe with him.”
Ladybug’s smile lit up the whole rooftop. “Then if you’re ready, I’ll be your personal chauffeur tonight.”
She held her arm out and bowed, like she was trying to imitate Chat Noir. He was sure he’d made that exact motion before. Had she realized who he was? Or was she just borrowing her partner’s humor to try to cheer him up?
It worked, of course. The fact that he had an excuse to cling to her as they swung across the rooftops didn’t hurt, either. For a moment he could pretend they were just doing this for fun, that she was escorting him to a normal slumber party instead of helping him escape his terrorist father.
Too soon they were landing in the alley on the side of Nino’s apartment building.
“I can come with you inside, if you want. Or—at least make sure Nino’s home. I won't leave you alone. I mean—I will leave you alone, if you don’t want me bothering you, but not alone alone—I won’t leave you by yourself. That’s all.”
He smiled to put her at ease. “Don’t worry. He gave me a spare key, just in case anything happened.”
Nino had probably meant it in case Gabriel ever grew too controlling to handle. He couldn’t have predicted this.
“Alright, then, um… is there anything else you need? You don’t have any clothes, or—or a toothbrush! What are you going to do without a toothbrush? You might get cavities, and your teeth would fall out, and then you’d have to get dentures, and—”
“Whoa, my Lady, my teeth are made of stronger stuff than that.” He grinned. She was so cute when she got flustered like that. He’d never seen it before, yet it felt strangely familiar. “But if it would make you feel better, there are a few things I’d like from my room.”
“Of course. Just tell me what and I’ll bring it.”
Adrien smiled. What had he done to deserve Ladybug going out of her way for him? She sounded more worried for him than about taking down Hawkmoth. Could she know his identity? No, that was just Ladybug; she’d do this for anyone. Right?
“I don’t want to ask for too much,” he said, suddenly embarrassed. There were a few things he could use, but didn’t want Ladybug to see. Namely, his underwear (Ladybug boxers) and the Ladybug doll he’d commissioned from Marinette.
“Don’t worry about it, really. I just want you to be as comfortable as you can through all this.”
She looked at him with those soft eyes, ones he wished he didn’t have to share with the rest of Paris. Standing in the shadowed alley, he could pretend that look was reserved just for him.
“Thank you, Ladybug.” His cheeks warmed, but he dug a napkin and pen out of his pocket, jotting down a short list against the brick wall.
“Thank you, Adrien.” She smiled as she accepted the scrap. “Go ahead and go inside. I’ll be back before you know it.”
She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, but before he could melt into a puddle of goo, she was swinging off again.
His fingers brushed the still-warm skin. “Plagg, did that really just happen?”
No reply. Right. Plagg had been in his jacket, still at the top of Montparnasse Tower. Adrien didn’t know how long it would take the kwami to fly all the way to Nino’s apartment, but hopefully Ladybug wouldn’t need Chat Noir before then.
He turned his keys over in his pocket, but suddenly felt daunted at the thought of going inside. Ladybug’s presence had cheered him up, but if he had to explain everything about Hawkmoth to Nino… he wasn’t ready to talk about it again. Soon, but not now.
Besides, Ladybug would be back before he knew it.
XXX
Marinette wouldn’t be distracted by Adrien’s desk, Adrien’s scent, Adrien’s bed. She wasn’t here because of her crush. She was just here for him.
Besides, this might as well not be his room anymore. He’d only be keeping the items she could fit in his satchel.
She pushed aside her deep sadness at the thought. Adrien’s father—Gabriel Agreste—was Hawkmoth. She’d had that theory a couple years ago, but she’d never wanted to be proven right.
Best not to dwell on that now though. Who knew when Gabriel would come back from the fashion gala? Hopefully he would be delayed looking for Adrien. If Gabriel even cared he was missing.
She pushed down half-baked plots of strangling the man and got to work. A few things were already in his satchel, like his tablet and homework. Most other items were easy to find—Adrien’s flash drive, his journal (she didn’t peek), a phone charger, his wallet, the Stationation record that once belonged to his mom. That took her back. Joining the Hardy Camp dance at his party two years ago was still one of her favorite memories, even if she’d had to dress up as “Marino” for it.
The hardest find was actually the lucky charm she’d given him the day they first played Ultimate Mecha Strike together. It was tucked under his pillow, the red string just barely poking out. She tried not to think of what it might mean.
That still left plenty of space in the satchel. He hadn’t written down underwear, but Marinette figured he’d appreciate not having to borrow Nino’s. Ignoring her embarrassment, she opened drawers until she found one with… oh.
Her cheeks heated at the sight of his neatly folded Ladybug boxers.
“Maybe he just likes polka dots,” she muttered, shaking her head and stuffing them at the bottom of the bag.
That theory seemed pretty flimsy after finding his Ladybug pajamas. She packed those too, for good measure. What else might he need that he hadn’t thought of? He probably didn’t want any Gabriel-brand clothes, so she threw in a few newer pants, shirts, and socks that didn’t bear his father’s logo.
She threw the bag over her shoulder and scanned the napkin, making sure she’d honored all of his requests. Her brow furrowed when she noticed a word that had been written on a folded corner.
“Cheese?” That was weird. She’d never known Adrien to enjoy cheese; if anything he’d wrinkled his nose at it. He used to like passionfruit flavored desserts and quiche, but maybe his taste had changed over the years?
She shrugged and searched the room until she found a minifridge by his desk. She pulled the door open and—
“Ack!”
She slammed the door on the big black rat she glimpsed inside. But Adrien needed this cheese, for some reason. Should she summon a Lucky Charm to deal with the rodent?
“Woah, pigtails, don’t freak out.” The black creature phased through the door and—
Oh. Oh. That wasn’t a rat, obviously. But what was Plagg doing here, unless—
“Oh my gosh.” She slapped her hands to her cheeks. This couldn’t be Plagg’s cheese. Not in Adrien’s room. Could it?
“Oh swiss, you’re freaking out. Why did you have to look in the cheese fridge?” Plagg threw his tiny arms in the air.
“You… what are you doing here?” She asked. He’d gone all the way to her school before just to eat cheese. Maybe he’d done the same thing here. She couldn’t jump to conclusions.
Plagg laughed awkwardly. “Nothing! Just eating some Camembert. You know that’s my favorite cheese. Nothing weird about that.”
She bent down, eyes narrowing as she stared into the fridge. “Except for the fact that Adrien has a whole refrigerator of it.”
“Technically it’s just a minifridge.”
She glared at Plagg, who grinned nervously. She didn’t have the heart to be mad at him though, not after everything else that had already happened tonight. She could hardly be surprised either.
It was only fitting that her partner would be the most wonderful boy in the world, but have the worst luck.
“It’s him, isn’t it,” she murmured, her throat tightening. “Adrien. He’s Chat Noir.”
“...Yeah. Yeah, he’s my kid. The best kid I could hope for.” Plagg’s smile felt older than he normally let on. He was thousands of years old; he must have had plenty of holders before. His voice sounded genuine though, if tinged with sadness.
“And you never realized he was living with Hawkmoth?” She couldn’t help asking. “Couldn’t you—I don’t know, feel Nooroo or something?”
Couldn’t you have saved him? Her heart cracked. Chat Noir occasionally dropped hints about his lonely home life, much more than he had as Adrien. Probably because Chat’s anonymous father didn’t have a reputation to tarnish.
Couldn’t I have saved him?
Guilt threatened to weigh her down, but she tried to shake it off. Adrien’s situation was no one’s fault but Gabriel’s—but Hawkmoth’s.
At least when she took down Hawkmoth, she’d get to punch the two people she hated most.
“Believe me, Pigtails, I wish I had,” Plagg murmured. “I’ve wanted an excuse to Cataclysm his dad for ages.”
Well, at least they were on the same page there.
“Sorry. I know it’s not your fault.” She shook her head. “I just never thought—”
Plagg’s ears twitched, his whiskers jolting up.
“What?”
“Shh,” he hissed, flying up to press a paw to her lips.
She went cross-eyed looking at him, but did as she was told.
Footsteps. Definitely footsteps.
“That irresponsible boy is always running off! And you were supposed to be keeping an eye on him!”
Gabriel’s furious voice, getting closer.
“Come on, move it!” Plagg whispered, tossing a wheel of cheese into Adrien’s satchel.
Marinette threw it over her shoulder and was out the window before the footsteps could arrive.
XXX
Adrien paced back and forth beside the apartment building, trying not to worry. Ladybug hadn’t been gone that long. She might have had trouble finding his lucky charm; he couldn’t remember if he’d written down the right place to look. Had he left it under his pillow again? That was always dangerous in case the cleaning staff came in and bundled it with his sheets.
Of course, it was dangerous to have it left it behind in the first place. Maybe if he’d had it on him… but no, no amount of luck would have stopped Gabriel from being Hawkmoth. Rolling the beads between his fingers might have soothed his rapid heartbeat, though.
He felt naked without Plagg. With just his own thoughts boiling inside his head. He should really go inside, or at least call Nino, or… anything. He felt like an NPC trapped in a predetermined loop. Five paces forward, turn, five paces back. The rhythm was the only thing keeping him from cracking again.
It was easier to be strong when Ladybug was here. But he wouldn’t let his resolve waver. One, two, three, four, five. Turn. One, two, three, four, five. Don’t think. One, two, three—
“Adrien!” Ladybug’s voice called, and then she was swinging down into the alley. His school bag hung from her shoulder; it looked too big for her. “What are you still doing out here? I thought you were going inside. You didn’t get locked out, did you? Is Nino not home?”
“I—I don’t know,” he admitted, shrinking under the rapid questions. “I was… too much of a coward to go in yet.”
Ladybug’s eyes widened. “Adrien. You could never be a coward.”
She stepped forward, and his pulse quickened as she reached for his hand.
“You’re the bravest person I know...”
She lifted his hand to her lips, which brushed the skin of his knuckle just above his ring. He shivered, his eyes held captive by hers.
“...my Kitty.”
Everything in him turned to slush. How did she find out? Why did she have to find out now? He registered that she didn’t look angry, or disappointed—if anything, her soft smirk was exactly the expression he always longed to see.
“My Lady…” His voice shook. She still hadn’t let go of his hand. “How can you say that? I couldn’t even talk to you as your partner. I should’ve been supporting you so we can defeat Hawkmoth, and instead I…”
Tears welled in his eyes. Pathetic. Too overly dramatic… Why wouldn’t Father’s—Gabriel’s words leave him alone?
“Instead you left the only family you had. You risked everything by telling me his identity. You’ve done so much. So just let me take care of you for a minute, okay?”
A shuddering breath escaped him. His hand tightened around hers, as if she’d disappear at any moment.
But she wouldn’t. She knew who he was, and she was here.
“O-okay. Just—you’ll still let me fight him, won’t you?” He hadn’t meant to ask that yet, but he needed to know. She wouldn’t replace him right after telling him how brave he was, right?
“Like I’d let her take me away from you, kid.” Plagg flew out of his satchel, phasing directly through the flap.
Adrien jumped in surprise, but it made sense. It was probably Plagg who’d given away his identity, if not the lifetime supply of Camembert. Putting cheese on the list had been unavoidable though. He could probably only make one last withdrawal with his debit card before Gabriel froze his accounts, and tracking expensive cheese purchases would be too easy.
“I wouldn’t force you to fight him, but I’d never make you stay away, either.” Ladybug smiled, her thumb running soothingly over the back of his hand. “To be honest, I’m relieved you still want to though. I don’t know that I’d stand a chance without you.”
He laughed quietly. “Somehow I doubt that.”
She gave him the Look. The Look was usually reserved for when he made a pun at an incredibly inopportune moment, or when he flirted with her just a little too much, or (on very rare occasions) when he flirted with someone other than her. He hadn’t done any of those things this time.
“Stop that, Chat. You know you’re irreplaceable. Or… I want you to know you are. I don’t tell you enough.”
“Thank you, my Lady,” he whispered reverently. “I won’t let you down. I promise.”
Her smile could have lit the Eiffel Tower. “I know you won’t. You never have.”
A wave of calm washed over him. His Lady would never lie.
“You and me against the world, one more time?” He would have held his fist out for a bump, but his hand was still wrapped in hers. That suited him just fine.
She pulled him into a tight hug, her words tickling the shell of his ear.
It was the APS anniversary this week (last week? what is time?), and i wanted to write a little something to show my appreciation. but, uh, this is all i could come up with ...
Soulmates?
Kim had always known that one day it would happen. One day, a radioactive spider would bite him on the leg and give him awesome, super spider powers. (And then he'd show that panther who's boss.) Or one day he’d die, but like not real, real die. He’d come back alive and be extra cool and buff and be able to stop buses with his hands or something.
But this … this was just disappointing. No super speed. No super strength. Not even some retractable claws or laser eyes. He just woke up one day and had mind-reading powers, except they only worked on one person. Adrien Agreste.
Kim stood with Adrien by their lockers, peering at him like he was one of those deceptive cookies that looked like they were filled with chocolate chips but could just be raisins in disguise. (Raisins, as everyone knew, were sneaky little ninjaisins like that.)
Kim sighed. “I mean you’re not my first choice. You’re not as pretty as Chloe—”
Adrien choked on his own phlegm.
“—or as good at swimming as Ondine, and the way you get all lovey-dovey over Ladybug all the time is really annoying …”
Red spilled over Adrien’s face like an overturned bottle of paint. “W-what? I don’t—why would you think—”
“But we are soulmates.”
Adrien blinked a few more times and then held his hands palm-up in a stop motion. “Okay, we need to backtrack. Why exactly do you think I’m your soulmate?”
Kim rolled his eyes. “Because I can read your mind. Duh.”
There was a long pause.
Adrien burst out laughing. “Oh, I get it. You’re just messing with me.”
“I’m not.”
“It’s fine.” Adrien patted him on the shoulder. “You wanted to have a laugh, but—”
“I’m being serious. I really can read your mind.”
Adrien’s mouth twitched. “Okay? Then what am I thinking right now?”
“You’re thinking that Nino must be filming this somewhere.”
Adrien’s eyebrows inched towards his hairline. “Lucky guess. Try again.”
Kim tilted his head. “Cheese smells like gym socks. Stay peachy. Strange things are afoot at the circle K. Your nose is itchy but you don’t wanna scratch it ‘cause then it’ll look like you’re picking your nose. Oh, and now you’re worrying because I’m actually reading your mind, and you’re thinking that you need to stop thinking because then Ladybug will—”
“Okay, okay!” All the colour drained from Adrien’s face. He looked paler than that time Nathaniel got a bleeding nose during volleyball and almost fainted. “I get it. You can read my mind.”
Kim straightened smugly. “Now you see why you’re my soulmate.”
“Uh, no. You lost me again. Why does being able to read my mind make you my soulmate?”
Kim sighed. His soulmate was really living up to the dumb blond stereotype. “Because the internet says so.”
“Right.” Adrien’s left eye twitched. “The internet.”
“Also, I think you might need some help, dude. It’s kinda weird how much you think you’re Chat Noir.”
Adrien laughed. “R-right. So weird.” He backed up a step. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go! Got fencing. See you ‘round, soulmate!” He threw fingers guns and dashed off.
Kim just sighed. No, this was not the super power or the soulmate he had wanted.
--
I know this is really random and an odd place to end, so I will maybe write one more chapter to go with this
