a problem with little in the way of resolution
A/n: HELP @zoe-oneesama
IVE BEEN SUCKED INTO the Scarlet Lady au and here’s a small thing I wanted to give to you. Thank you for this wonderful idea
—
Plagg gives a long, weary sigh, tucked away in the folds of Adrien’s shirt.
Adrien can’t help but echo the same sentiment, his steps equal parts careful and tired as he follows Plagg’s instructions.
“Why do I always have to be the responsible one?” Plagg whines, his tiny claws digging ineffectually into Adrien’s side.
“Really? You’re the responsible one? I can only imagine what Scarlet Lady’s kwami is like.”
“No. No. That’s exactly the problem! Her kwami is usually the one that deals with stuff like this. Tikki always was the responsible one.”
Adrien stops for a bit to glance at the petulant little god in his shirt. A sense of mourning horror crawls down his spine as he thinks of the implications.
“Is Scarlet Lady really that much of a…a…”
“Self-centered egomaniac?” Plagg offers.
“A deep, dark black hole that sucks up whatever attention is in the room?”
“An absolute nightmare of a jacka-“
“NO! I mean yes to all of those, but is she really so irresponsible?”
Plagg blinks up at Adrien, long and slow. Adrien squirms a bit, and looks away in embarrassment.
“Look, kid. I’m glad you’re trying to look for the best in people, but Scarlet Lady is testing the limits and you’re beginning to look like an idiot the longer you try with her.”
“I know…I get it…I’m just so tired Plagg. I can’t imagine having to take on more of this work if she doesn’t step up.”
“I know…but if you gave her that book, what do you think she’d do with it?”
Adrien pauses, his face paling in horror. “Probably sell it to buy a diamond encrusted yo-yo.” He says, patting his bag just to make sure the book is still there. “You’re right. We have to get this to that mysterious master you keep talking about.”
——
She looks at Pollen for all of one second before she screams and ducks behind the trash dump.
“HOLY SHIT! ITS A BUG MOUSE.”
“THE BUG MOUSE TALKS.” Marinette yells from behind the dumpster, crouching closer to the wall to avoid a puddle of mystery liquid pooling near her foot.
“I’m a kwami, your Majesty and I am at your service.” Pollen continues, bemusedly watching her new wielder from over the edge of the bin.
Marinette seems to take a moment, before standing up a little to peer up at the floating, glowing being.
“What…what do you want with me?”
“To give you power to accomplish your desires, My Queen.”
Pollen merely smiles beatifically, and that seems to be enough to coax Marinette from her hiding spot. She watches as the girl picks up the discarded hair comb.
“A Kwami…huh…are you lost?” Marinette asks kindly, getting over her initial fears quickly now that Pollen has kept a polite distance.
Marinette doesn’t have quite enough time to understand the implications before the sounds of an Akuma attack ring in the distance.
Somehow, something in her bones calls to her. It’s the same something that makes her run to help her classmates when there’s not much she can do every time an Akuma attacks. It’s the same something that causes her to grab the nearest blunt object and use that to fend off anything from hypnotized people to pigeons.
Its the same something that makes her slip the haircomb on and the something pushes against her lips and spills out as-
She is the reprieve that Chat Noir has so long wished for. She is the yellow of sunshine and the gilded sweetness of honey, encouragements and cleverness wrapped up in one daring heroine.
Marigold is the answer to his exhaustion and he’s so blessed to have her in his life. (Just as blessed as when sweetheart Marinette brings him coffee and pastries.)
He finds that patrols have become less frustrating, more productive when Marigold buzzes by his side. They’re nearly two halves of a whole.
She fills in his blind spots that had long been left empty by Scarlet Lady. He can breathe easier when he knows there’s two stingers watching his back, and an equally sharp mind helping him come up with plans.
She’s been a blessing…but there’s trouble in paradise when she gathers up all her latent courage and tells him that she loves him.
She’s looking at him now with wide (pretty) blue eyes and small teeth biting her (pretty) lip.
And god, he would totally reciprocate if he hadn’t already been in love with Marinette.
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…Marigold…you’re great. Wonderful and such an amazing partner…but I love someone else.”
She turns her head away too slow. He catches the tears welling up in her eyes, but by the time he gets close she’s plastered on the biggest, most awkward smile ever.
“It’s okay…I totally understand. I just wanted to let you know. No regrets right? I’m glad I got to tell you. You’re amazing too. Thank you…for being so kind, Chat.” She rattles, so afraid to give him a moment more.
And he wants to say more, but then she says she has to go before she destransforms.
His sharp ears hadn’t heard any beeping, but he won’t take away her reprieve. He cares about her too much to be cruel.
—-
“…Marinette…I’m flattered, honestly, that you would trust me with something like this…but wouldn’t you prefer to talk to Alya?” Adrien squirms, uncomfortable and flustered on this bench. His shoulder is pressed right up against hers as they both partake in Andre’s love ice cream.
He watches her topmost scoop, lime green, melt down the side of her cone. She doesn’t seem to mind it, instead fixing her gaze on the shifting sunset colors in La Seine.
“Alya…I’ll tell her soon. I just thought…I wanted an objective point of view on this whole thing. And you seemed the best person to ask.”
“I’m sorry if this is making you…ah uncomfortable.”
“No!” Adrien turns to her, placing his free hand on her shoulder to let her know that she shouldn’t feel bad at all. “Don’t apologize. It’s totally fine.”
He’s…She’s one of his best friends…she’s the girl he likes…he’s glad to be her confidant. Even if it means talking to her about the guy she likes who isn’t him.
She’s moved her gaze to his face, (pretty) blue eyes wide and earnest as her (gorgeous) smile becomes gentle.
“Thank you…for being so kind, Adrien.” She tells him.
He feels the heat rush from her skin and up through his arm. It crawls up his spine pleasantly as it curls under his cheeks and he pulls away and scratches the back of his head.
“It’s uh…nothing. You’re my friend. Of course I’d be glad to listen to you.” He prattles on. “And I think any guy would be an idiot not to fall for you. So this guy…he’s missing out…but I can’t entirely place the blame on him. People like who they like, and sometimes it’s a matter of just being the wrong time.”
Marinette giggles, a bit haltingly, but it’s joyous nonetheless. “I think that’s partly what Alya would say.”
“But?” Adrien prods, sensing more words on the tip of her tongue.
“He likes someone else. You’re right. It’s not that I’m
not enough. And i couldn’t change anything about myself. It’s just a matter of wrong person and wrong time.” She shrugs.
Her smile quirks up into something lovely. (She’s always lovely, but with golden hour cresting in her dark hair, she’s almost too much for him. She’s almost too much as she talks about a boy who seems too much to be real.)
The quiet stretches between them, dripping like her ice cream down into the concrete.
“Are you not gonna eat your uh…cone?” Adrien asks worriedly as the top scoop slides precariously to the side.
“Oh…” Marinette notices, and quickly licks a bit off the side. She flashes a grateful grin at him, and he laughs a bit as he unthinkingly grabs a tissue and wipes away some green ice cream still on the corner of her mouth.
He freezes. Marinette doesn’t seem to notice, instead thanking him sheepishly.
“Uh heh…no problem.” He tells her, and tries to hide his flushed face in the light of the orange sun.
But there is a problem. He’s so in love with Marinette and she’s pining for a guy so perfect, he can’t even begin to measure up in his own mind. It’s a case of wrong time…and it will always be the wrong time for him to woo Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
Except…maybe…Chat Noir…maybe he might have a better chance. Adrien decides that his ice cream tastes sweeter at that possibility.
Edit: Submitted by gigiree
