Rewritten Assignments MLB fic: Preview!
Hey gang!
So I decided to not be a pussy and post the ch.1 rough draft of the fic idea I mentioned, as promised! TLDR for newcomers, this is a college AU love square fic from a reality where Gabriel changed the wish around after Marinette refuses to lie to Adrien about who Gabriel was, resulting in a world where they meet for the “““first time””” in college, they have no clue they were heroes, Emilè is back, and some other (slightly sinister) happenings occur ;).
Very long messy first chapter under the cut so yall get a taste of it this b4 before I commit and shift to ao3- hope yall enjoy what I have so far, and stay tuned for more!
CHAPTER ONE- REWRITTEN UNIVERSE: THE STUDY OF AN UNLUCKY LADYBUG
Editors: Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Gabriel Agreste, Adrien Agreste
Grade: A(pocalypse)
Notes: Can some good come out of this?
~
They had lost.
Marinette’s head was spinning, both from the nasty cane to head she had been dealt and the gravity of the situation she was in.
Standing before her was Gabriel Agreste (formerly Hawkmoth), about to make a wish to the eldritch horror Gimmi (formerly Plagg and Tikki) that had manifested itself out of the ladybug and black cat miraculous (formerly hers and her partner’s).
She held Adrien Agreste (formerly Chat Noir) close to her chest, praying that he would wake up, and the universe (formerly stable) was about to be rewritten into something she might not live to see.
Everyone was taking on new forms today.
Marinette watched as Gabriel straightened up and addressed the god, looking a little too non-chalant for someone about to rewrite her entire existence.
“I want to make a wish”
Gimmi regarded Gabriel with a look of contempt. When they spoke, they sounded almost bored.
“Ah, yet another complainer. You humans only ever summon me to complain, never to rejoice.”
Marinette found that there wasn’t much to rejoice about, but she kept silent.
“There is only one thing I wish to change.”
As Gimmi responds with a speech about the terms and conditions of the wish (that somehow has something to do with garden peas and strawberries), Marinette musters up the strength to speak, her voice hoarse.
“Gabriel… stop. Don’t do this.”
The man turned around and regarded her in silence. His expression was hard to read. Marinette pressed on, desperate.
“Think about the risks. It’s like what Gimmi said, everything always comes with a cost- what if something happens to Adrien? To Nathalie? Is that really what Emilie would have wanted?”
Now even Gimmi stares at her, intrigued. Meanwhile, Gabriel contorts his face into a grin that makes Marinette’s skin crawl.
“Clearly, you don’t know my wife.”
Before she could fully register the ominous statement, Gabriel takes off his twin rings and places them on the ground, straightening up with a warmer (but somehow creepier) smile.
“Marinette, make sure Adrien never learns about the villain I was, but rather… the father I tried to be. Can you do that for me?”
She brings the unconscious boy in her arms closer to her chest. The statement implies Adrien wouldn’t remember the events that had just unfolded… was that going to be part of his wish? I mean, it would make sense- your dad being a supervillain would totally spoil the whole “mom’s back from the dead!” family reunion party. But why would it be her job to help Adrien remember his father fondly rather than Gabriel’s? And why was he speaking in past tense…
As the dots started to connect, Adrien stirred, a pained groan escaping from his lips. Cold sweat started to shine from his forehead, and suddenly Marinette was reminded of the sounds of his ribs cracking when the man before her flung him across the room into the wall.
She grit her teeth. Suddenly, she didn’t care what was at stake. She didn’t care what she might’ve done in another circumstance. Now, only one reality was in front of her, and she made sure her next words were loud and clear.
“Over my dead body will I ever let Adrien remember you as anything other than what you are: a monster.”
Gabriel’s smile vanishes, replaced by the nastiest scowl Marinette had seen in her entire life.
“Well then. Guess we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?”
As Gabriel turned away from her to face Gimmi, her newfound resolve slipped away, replaced by the cold fear of an outcome no lucky charm could fix:
She was so fucked.
“Gimmi, I’m ready.”
“And what do you wish for?”
“Read my heart”
Well, she thought to herself, as Adrien’s eyes fluttered open in confusion, at least it’d probably be a quick, painless vanishing from existence. And maybe, in the process, Adrien would be okay.
“And what do you sacrifice?”
“Read my soul.”
….Or Gabriel could decide to torture her for all eternity, all the while continuing to make Adrien’s life as miserable as possible.
“It is as you require.”
As a blinding light started to consume them, Marinette’s panic took over her, and despite wanting to keep her dignity in what was shaping up to be her last moments, she shouted out a desperate question to the man rising before her.
“What’s going to happen to me?”
He turned around slowly and, rather than respond, waved goodbye with a grin as the light enveloped him, vanishing him to who knows where.
The last thing Marinette heard before she was completely blinded was a single word from a now fully conscious Adrien, spoken in a groan:
“Shit.”
~
Edit suggestion by Agreste_Gabriel: maybe make the new reality suck for Marinette?
Status: accepted ✔️
Edit suggestion by mari_du-pain-cheng: can we not do that actually?
Status: denied ❌
Comment by cats_meow: Gabriel you’re a bald headed bitch.
This comment has been deleted.
~
Marinette was out of breath as she ran down the stairs of her dorm building, nearly collapsing on the final flight and startling a group of angry onlookers who shouted less than pleasant things in her direction.
The day there was going to be a surprise industry guest in her class, and she was totally late. She wished she could be surprised but, seeing as bad luck seemed to dictate every facet of her life, this was exactly what she had expected.
Marinette really tries not to be a superstitious person (she has enough going on without the additional worry of avoiding ladders and breaking mirrors), but that morning, when staring at the charred outlet that previously harbored the cables to both her phone charger and alarm clock, she couldn’t help but think to herself yet again that the universe was constantly out to get her.
As though to mock her, she suddenly ran head first into a person that had appeared out of nowhere, and, when she pulled away with a hasty apology forming on her lips, found that they were sporting a “Ladybug lives” t-shirt. Her expression soured.
She hated that spotted superhero with everything she had.
Marinette swallowed her apology and shoved past the victim to continue on her run. She thought she heard a thud behind her, but she didn’t look back.
It was a bit cruel, sure, but that shirt had hit a sore spot for her, especially today. ‘Ladybug’ represented everything she wasn’t- brave, graceful, strong, lucky, and while she knew the juxtaposition wasn’t really the hero’s fault (wherever she was these days), it didn’t mean she wouldn’t take the opportunity to humble the grinning figure in those photos with a swift kick in the shins. It is why she had decided years ago that Chat Noir and his destructive, unlucky nature was definitely more her speed.
Eventually, Marinette reaches the lecture hall, sweat beaming on her forehead and her lungs about to burst.
“So sorry I’m late! Don’t mind-”
She blinked twice as she caught the eyes of her classmates, who were either sitting on their desks or lounging around in the middle of the room. Behind her, she felt the iron grip of her professor, Cerise, and turned reluctantly to meet her forced smile.
“Marinette, luckily for you, our guest seems to be running a bit late today. Didn’t you get the email?”
Marinette grimaced. No she thought to herself because my phone is sitting dead in my dorm room but she just bit her lip and shook her head.
“Well, for future reference, if he had been here, bursting in late such as you just did would’ve been a tad unprofessional, don’t you think?”
Calm down Marinette thought to herself as she nodded, resisting the impulse to strangle her professor by the neck.
“Okay then, since we’re in agreement, why don’t you take a seat?”
Avoiding eye contact with her snickering classmates, Marinette plopped into a seat in the far corner and sighed, burying her head in her arms.
There was that unlucky streak again. It seemed like no matter how many chances she was given, she ended up disappointing people, whether it be right off the bat with a terrible first impression, or gradually with the usual slip ups, excuses, and terrible coincidences that seeped into her relationships like poison. It’s why she had just about given up on friends, and nodded along when yet another teacher gave her the “bright but disorganized” spiel. It made her wonder if she should give up on her dreams of being a fashion designer altogether and get a job in demolition, accepting a world in which she was destined to destroy rather than create.
At the thought, she sprang up, feeling as though she had been doused in cold water, and reached into her bag to retrieve her sketchpad.
That was totally insane- no way did she come this far just to quit her 2nd year of college, especially after her parents dipped into their savings just for her to afford it. She had spent all night designing new concepts to present to their guest, and she was determined that he would see them, even if it meant swallowing her doubts and taking a risk. At the thought, a grin slowly came across her face- she didn’t know what caused this sudden turnaround, but she had decided that even with its rocky start, today was going to be good, no matter what. And it started with making her very first good first impression.
As though on cue, a figure appeared below, crossing the lecture hall floor to her professor and exchanging frantic words, back turned to the rest of the room. As her classmates quickly scrambled into their seats, Marinette squints to try and get a good look at the mystery guest.
Long flowing blonde hair, white blazer, a radiant aura that had already begun to infect the room. Excited whispers surrounded her, and Marinette bit her pen in frustration as she realized everyone else had started to catch on to whoever this was while she remained lost.
She didn’t struggle for long though, because before she knew it the model had turned around, and as his eyes surveyed the room Marinette once again felt as though she had been doused in cold water, although not in the enlightening way she had before.
He was as annoyingly perfect as he was in the crumpled up magazines that lived at the bottom of Marinette’s junk drawer, with incandescent features that looked as though they were meticulously designed by his family in the same way his wardrobe was. Or at least, seemingly was.
Because despite his best efforts to hide it, Marinette noticed the neckline of a soiled t-shirt peaking out from under his carefully buttoned up blazer. And while she couldn’t see its design, the emerald eyes hardening in recognition as they met hers confirmed she knew the t-shirt (and the person who soiled it) very very well.
As Adrien Agreste turned away from her to whisper something to her professor, Marinette’s newfound resolve slipped away, replaced by the cold fear of an outcome no carefully planned designs from her sketchbook were going to fix:
She was so fucked.