Something shimmered in the alcove, between the old bottles and broken ship parts. Curiously Marinette squinted into the darkness . . . an . . . Orb?
The glass surface was just catching the light of the afternoon sun. Reaching forwards she plucked the fist sized sphere from its nestled perch. The second it passed into the light there was a flash of frantic movement and she nearly dropped the orb in surprise. Sparkling black and green scales spun wildly within the glass before two tiny black clawed hands slammed onto the inner surface. A face with bright green eyes, framed in a halo of golden hair, stared up at her in slitted suspicion.
It was five days of water-breathing before Adrien could manage even the air-breathing transformation again, and in that time he’d gotten very tired of the confined space of the Dupain-Cheng’s bathtub. The aerator and industrial sized filter Marinette had bought kept his water clean and breathable (he did manage to manually filter the, uh, larger waste and deposit it in the toilet himself), and she checked the water levels twice a day to see if he needed a top-up, and of course they were giving him plenty to eat… but it was so cramped.
Not to mention that, since it was the only bathroom with a toilet that they had access to, he’d had to get used to being even more shut in with a curtain every time one of them had to use it, and even then it was embarrassing for everyone involved. Fortunately, Marinette had laboriously explained via a small whiteboard that they had a shower cabinet installed in one of the bakery’s stockrooms on the ground floor, so at least they were able to keep clean. It had apparently been a gift or prize of some kind, given to them by her paternal grandmother.
But he felt like such an inconvenience every time the door to the bathroom opened. He wanted nothing more than to get his transformations back, but he knew it would take time for that part of his brain to heal enough that he could use it again. Even then, it would probably take more time for him to be able to hold a full transformation for more than an hour or two.
With that in mind, Adrien began trying to teach Marinette mer signs. He used first the whiteboard, and then some bathtub crayons Marinette offered him with an amused smile, to teach her greetings and thanks and how to ask where it was acceptable to eliminate waste. He also taught her the signs that were names of things, like the fish her family fed him and his own name as well as hers in sign, along with Chloe’s and his own family members.
Marinette was a good student. Although she was often too tired to do much more than sign him a greeting and the name of his dinner at the start of the evening, once they’d eaten she would perk up a bit and he could try to have a little conversation with her. He began peppering in unknown signs, to see if she would pick up their meaning within the context of the other things he said. Sometimes she did, and sometimes he would have to explain using the crayons. But the main point was that she was learning and she would be better prepared for the visit they had planned, even if that was months away.
And finally, on the sixth day of his confinement to the bathtub, he finally managed the air-breathing transformation. He’d been testing it first thing in the morning after he woke up, and it finally worked! He couldn’t hold it very long- he started getting a headache after only a few minutes- but it worked!
okay, okay. hear me out. for mermay this year, i’m really thinking about writing a “thirteenth year” AU.
i’ve wanted to write merman!adrien forever. nino is his dorky friend that figures out he’s a fish. gabriel & nathalie are the ones that find him in their boat, but emilie is the mermaid. marinette is his girlfriend that’s like “holy shit you’re a fish.” i’ll have to figure the kinks out. but i’ve really been wanting to do this au forever and think this may will be when the time has come.
This part is in celebration of @lunian‘s birthday! Happy birthday to a wonderful bean!!!
He was warm, a welcoming source of heat in the cool evening waves. The touch of his lips soft and welcoming. He tasted sweet and light in comparison to the salt of the ocean, the grit of sand, and the harshness of the sea battered rocks of the shoreline. Nino pressed closer, delighting as Adrien’s arms tightened around him.
Everything was perfect. Even when their noses bumped, it was just a step towards their lips meeting once more. When their teeth clattered, it was simply a reason to smile and pull each other that much closer, so close that nothing but a whisper could pass between them.
Nino smiled at the gasp that passed Adrien’s lips as he turned, pushing him against the hard surface of the rock, their rock. His hand, still on Adrien’s cheek shifted, feeling the texture of his scales and seeing the glow and sparkle of them even with his eyes closed. But after a while, his imagination just wasn’t enough and he chanced it, opening his eyes to the beauty before him.
His hair was messy, wisps of gold and sunlight in the night, forming a halo around him as they sunk underwater. The gentle ebb and flow of the ocean waves moved against each strand. His darkened ears peeked out in the brightness and his cheekbones were further accentuated by the highlights of his scales. They shone a green iridescence that sparkled a little lighter than the colour of his eyes; eyes that were now closed whereas his mouth was slightly open in a soft pout, awaiting Nino’s touch.
So when Nino leaned back in, he took his time. His thumb ran appreciatively across Adrien’s cheek and he used his hand to tilt him just right, closing his eyes slowly just in time to see Adrien’s blink slowly back at him.
A soft gasp left the merman’s lips. “W-wow,” he smiled dreamily up at Nino, before he was silenced once more by his lips.
This time not even the cold water of the ocean could cool them. Warm, and hot, and heat sparked between them burning them up as their lips moved against one another. Adrien held Nino close. That purr resonated between them tenfold and Nino hummed in response. One arm travelled up the length of his back, sending shivers down his spine until Adrien’s hand gripped the back of Nino’s neck, pulling him in as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip.
The feeling shocked Nino for a moment, unknown and new, but oh so pleasant. Instinctively he gave chase when Adrien’s tongue pulled back. And suddenly Nino found his own tongue in the merman’s mouth. Uncertain he pressed along his palate stroking his tongue with his own and finding himself pleasantly surprised by the touch. Adrien’s grip tightened and unconsciously Nino’s flippers wrapped around the merman’s slim waist pulling him closer until their hips touched.
It was quickly too much and Nino faltered, jumping slightly, immediately pulling away, even as Adrien held him. He held his flippers as far back as he could, wishing they would disappear completely, to transform his shell into a beautiful tail worthy of Adrien’s company.
“Nino?” came a soft voice.
He flinched.
A gentle hand came up to his cheek. It was all at once something he craved, but he also felt the need to recoil away, despite his heartbeat telling him otherwise. Still, that loving touch gently guided him back to the bright green eyes before him.
“It’s okay, I want you to touch me.”
The sound out of Nino’s mouth could only best be described as a strangled squeak, one that he didn’t even have the heart to try to excuse with a clearing of his throat or half-hearted cough. Instead he seemed only able to resign himself to his fate, wishing for nothing more than to disappear within the confines of his shell.
A soft kiss brought him out from his woes.
When he glanced down at Adrien, he was surprised to see the merman’s face aglow; though not due to his gilded scales, but the deep red blush across his cheeks. Nino was sure his whole face were just as red, if not more.
“I—um, that was…” Adrien paused, bringing a hand up to his hair. “That was very nice.”
Nino pressed his lips together, glancing down at Adrien’s mouth, missing his touch. When Adrien’s hands reached for his, he melted, easily intertwining his hands in his.
“Thanks,” was all he could muster as a reply and he immediately regretted it.
But he had no regrets for the bright, slow smile Adrien gave him in return. He had no hesitations as Adrien leaned in once more, the gentle ring of his laughter spilling between them, a song that Nino soon joined in on as they pressed their foreheads against one another, pushing away their doubts as they pushed closer towards each other.
Eventually, Nino felt the tickle of Adrien’s hair against his skin which was quickly followed by the touch of his lips on his cheek, on his nose, on his ears, and lastly, on his own lips again and again. Each kiss was followed by even more laughter as the two of them fell into a pattern of new awkward touches and happy warm smiles as together they mapped out their innermost feelings along each other’s skin.
🐟 🐢 🐟 🐢 🐟 🐢 🐟 🐢 🐟 🐢 🐟 🐢 🐟 🐢 🐟 🐢 🐟 🐢 🐟
Happy Birthday lovely luni! I’m sending you lots of wishes and hope that you have a lovely day that is as warm and bright as you and your beautiful art!! ❤️
The question of how a miniscule girl of the uppers of upper-crust society was able to trap 47 pirates below deck and keep them there was a question that would forever be unanswered. The fact that, after the initial capture, and during the subsequent battle to keep them all there, the little princess was able to sew her own flag – from the fabric of their shirts – and then single-handedly sail herself to the nearest port to present 47 shirtless men to the kingdom for trial was, in essence, nothing short of miraculous.
"I'm just lucky, I guess!" was the girl's only response on the subject.
The captured pirates were mum on the subject. Whether this was from sheer embarrassment or from not truly knowing themselves, the people could only guess. And guess they did. The story wasn't a simple thing; the ship, a vessel of infamous history, had been long harassing people along the coastal European cities for years, building a notorious reputation that was not unfounded in dirty deeds. Princesa Marinette had been sailing with her parents to England when their vessel was overtaken, the sight already famous child causing an excitement akin to that of Pizaro's treasure to the seafaring thugs. Once she was on board with them, they wasted no time in sailing out of sight.
It was the last heist they would ever do. And though the pirates as a whole wouldn't speak of what she had done, the name "Pequeña Dama Suerte", "Little Lady Luck" became, from that time onward, the name associated with the Spanish princess.
She was 12 when she bested her mother, Queen Sabine, a renowned fighter in her own right, at fencing; 13 when she won against her father, the King, who was famous throughout Europe for his swordsmanship.
The girl was as small as she was strong…and smart. Her hands could barely grapple a longsword, but it didn't stop her from becoming adept enough with an epée to best any opponent who challenged her. They all entered laughing. They all left astounded. The general descriptions of their battles were "quick". They would tell of the way she seemed to flit around like a bug, even humming in the interims between rounds as if to round out the picture of an innocent creature who would sting at the first sign of trouble.
And sting she would.
She was 13 when she took her second ship, though it was the first one she had set out purposefully to capture.
The tales of a girl with the power of the sea and the gift of the sky became songs on the lips of sailors and lullabies to the babes of mariners. The girl they described had no knowledge that she had been painted as both a siren and an angel, an ethereal being without a name except "Ladybug". In the space of only two years, the rumors had grown into whispered myths. They transformed into stories told alongside Poseidon and Ceto, mermaids and Atlantis. Something magical to hope for…or a destructive entity to fear.
Until the ship that held Governor Bourgeois and the French colony heading to the Caribbean was recovered, Ladybug had lived in song and story. Now, though, the ethereal shown itself in corporal form; she fought like a dragon, the twin ships of the famed buccaneers downed within the hour she arrived. The ships were sunk to the bottom of the sea, along with any of the crew that had been foolish enough to stay aboard a ship set on fire. Le Grand, Bourgeois's ship, found itself suddenly armed, the colonists' weapons returned and then some. The resulting battle was short-lived; the captain was killed by the girl hero herself when he refused surrender, and the colonists found themselves neck deep in renewed heart and hope as they retook their own ship.
Marinette had sailed herself back home in Chloé's ship, explaining to her parents that she had been kidnapped and freed herself and sailed back at the earliest chance.
The only surprising part of this story was that someone would dare kidnap her in the first place.
And the fact that, somehow, she had acquired the reddest dog in existence while out on the sea.
Marinette, for her part, had to deal with being thirteen and not only experiencing the sights of war, but the repercussions of taking a man's life for the first time. It was this that persuaded the Princess of Spain to invite Governor Bourgeois and his daughter for a visit. And, when Chloé came, the only person privy to her secret, to beg her to stay.
She was 17 when she took her last voyage as Ladybug.
By now, the mask Chloé had made her on their first trip had become a staple – though the garment now had been redesigned from a torn red cloth with inked black dots into something Marinette approved of. It was leather, the side that touched her face covered with a ship-worthy canvas, the same material woven through the sides to a double tie she could fasten behind her for stability. She fingered the aged material, thinking of how the worn paint needed a touch up.
From her spot in the crow's nest, Marinette could see their last companion ship, Lady Grace, turn toward the north on their voyage home. A canon fired, the force of it resonating in Marinette's soul a little deeper than it should have. She fought the tears that came to her eyes at the finality of it.
It had been a smart outfit. After building a crew – mostly by the means of Chloé's extensive connections and ballooning from there – Chloé and Marinette (under the guise of Ladybug), took a ship, named it El Lugar de la Mariquita, The Ladybug's Spots, and became "pirates" fighting pirates in their own right.
A second canon fire.
They were "lawless" in the sense that they answered to no one, though the local governments would always turn a blind eye when the crusaders of the sea were about their business of saving souls. They never killed if it could be helped, never gleaned anything from the spoils of their battles. Within three years they had amassed two more vessels to their number. Their flagship, Ladybug's original brigantine, was more than modest in size, a merchant-looking vessel. In other words: perfect bait. The innocence of the ship was like a fishing lure for seedy sea vermin. And by the time the unsuspecting ships would realize their mistake, it would be too late. Three blasts from a canon, and then Ladybug's symbol would appear. Within moments, their companion ships, Reine des Abeilles and Lady's Grace, would come to either help, or, more likely, help clean up the pieces (Abeilles was built to pull ships, and Grace was a renovated brig with an entire floor dedicated to prison holds). Pirates grew wary of lone ships on the sea, knowing that if they came close enough, the Ladybug's colors would suddenly be hoisted, and their villainous days would be over…one way or another.
The third canon fire sounded, and Marinette – Ladybug – dissolved into the tears she had held back the entire voyage. She watched through misty eyes until Lady's Grace's dot disappeared forever into the darkness. This wasn't a goodbye to them; they would sail again, under the same spotted flag. The symbolic canon fire – their symbol – was for Ladybug herself. For when her crew next set sail, Ladybug would not be joining them.
This was Ladybug's last adventure.
But, contrary to what Marinette believed, it wasn't over yet.
