i just wanna keep on waiting,
underneath the mistletoe.
tumblr month: @auyeahaugust
links: ao3 | ff.net
LADYBUG is the only one he's excited to see again.
It's understandable though, since he hadn't wanted to go to the Christmas party in the first place. As his father was busy planning for his trip abroad, it had fallen upon Adrien to spend time and speak with adults who really only cared about him because of his family's wealth and stature.
They're all sickly-sweet and overly-kind to him, though it's intensely clear that if he were anything other than an Agreste, they'd never even give him the time of day.
(It's exhausting to spend time with people who don't even really see you, after all.)
The last straw, however, is when he speaks with a particularly snooty lady who corners him to talk about fashion. The conversation is halfway decent, until she brings up the feathered hat in Gabriel Agreste's newest collection— one she says is, verbatim, "the worst thing she's ever seen featured in a runway," and that "it was clear a high schooler was the one who made it."
Adrien surprises both himself and the lady when he answers back.
"Actually," he starts. "That hat is an inspired and unique work that even my father was in awe of. She may only be a high schooler, but her sense of fashion and style has grown so far past that." Adrien looks at his conversational partner's outfit, then pauses. "And that's one thing about her that… not everyone can say about themselves."
The woman splutters, mutters a few words about disrespect and how his father will hear about this, as she almost stomps away from him.
It's weird that he doesn't feel that bad about it.
"You're going to get in so much trouble for that," someone suddenly speaks up, hands haughtily folded in front of her chest. Beside her is another girl, who stands much more calmly but holds the same level of intimidation.
"That was in poor character for you Adrien," she steps in, eyes still the slightest bit wider from surprise. "I had never expected such behavior to come from you," she continues, then slightly tilts her head to her partner. "I mean, I'd expect it from Chloé, but I thought you'd be able to control yourself better."
Ignoring the indignant 'hey!' from the blonde, Kagami looks at him in worry. "What did she say to you?"
"Just… she said something wrong," he finally replies. "And I corrected her."
"We're not here to correct people, Adrikins," Chloé points out. "We're here to listen and agree and make sure they still want to work with our parents."
Adrien sighs. She's right.
"It's not too late to apologize," Kagami says. "We cannot be any less than the perfect children anyone expects of us."
A brief silence encompasses the three, as the weight of the words crush upon them. It isn't easy being in their position; to always have to watch their behavior, growing up quickly in the elite circles of high society. It's strict and limiting, and Adrien can't imagine not having Chat Noir to let him freely express and be his true self.
He misses staying inside the suit more than he does outside of it.
Or maybe he just misses the girl he sees when he's in the feline's costume.
He knows what she'd do if she were in his position.
"I stand by what I said," Adrien finally says, somewhat determined. "She said something bad about a friend, and I'm not sorry for protecting her." He pauses, then adds as an afterthought: "It's what she would do."
Kagami looks shocked, but nods slowly. "An honorable choice."
"You're going to regret it," Chloé only says, though he can see the hint of a smile on her face. "But I think your superhero crush would be proud of you for doing it."
As if perfectly on cue, an all-too-familiar figure steps through the entrances of the hallway.
Dressed in her token red suit and mask, Ladybug comes in, an awkward (but bright) smile on her face.
She looks absolutely beautiful tonight.
(But she always looks beautiful to him— so nothing's really new.)
"Are you a witch or something?" Kagami whispers under her breath. "Your timing is impeccable."
"I have my Ladybug radar on at all times."
"What about your Ryuuko radar?"
Chloé scoffs, then smiles softly. "Is that even a question?"
At that, the two sneak off, likely to some empty hallway to have time for themselves.
Adrien doesn't mind, watching with awe as Ladybug kindly greets all the guests at the party.
(He thanks the lucky stars that Ladybug had accepted Mayor Bourgeois' invitation, even if she only plans on stopping by briefly.)
They gravitate toward each other, as Adrien is the first to spark conversation.
"It's great you're here Ladybug," he says, almost flustered. "I'm a great fan of yours."
"I'm a great fan of yours too— I mean, you're a model! Right? I've seen you on billboards and stuff… you know, while I'm going around and saving Paris!"
The fact that Ladybug, of all people, is a fan of his civilian self brings Adrien a rush of joy that he never thought possible.
"You have no idea how much you being a fan of mine means to me."
"Believe me, I feel the same way."
They smile at each other, and enter into pleasant conversation.
She's definitely Adrien's favorite conversational partner by far.
They spend a good hour or so simply talking to each other (much to the envy of the other guests), and Adrien feels as if he's on cloud nine.
It's only when they walk to the beverage table that they are interrupted, as Ladybug accidentally bumps into a vase of greenery, consequently getting some of it in her hair.
Adrien leans in to help her, only belatedly noticing how closely they're standing together as whispers seem to surround the two of them.
Then:
"Mistletoe!" Someone suddenly chants, pointing enthusiastically at the two of them.
The rest of the crowd joins in, as Ladybug panickedly waves her hands to say 'no'— though it only serves to intensify the situation. He picks at the red berry upon her head, then smiles softly.
"May I, milady?"
She looks at him with wide-eyed surprise, then nods slowly.
Her eyes close, visibly nervous.
And Adrien presses a kiss to her forehead, before picking out the plant in her hair.
He shows it to the rest of the guests, then smiles. "This is actually holly, not mistletoe." Adrien looks almost mischievous, as they dissipate in disappointment.
"Wait… if you knew it was mistletoe, then why did you kiss me?"
He shrugs, the teasing grin still on his face.
"Maybe I just wanted to."
.
.
ADRIEN comes to pick her up before they go to school.
It's become a kind of strange tradition between them, for him to stop by the bakery every morning and walk with her to Françoise-Dupont. Ever since he was permitted to go to classes on his own— a freedom long overdue, really— he explains that he's been making the most of it as much as he can.
Her parents don't really mind, after all.
In fact, they think Adrien's a good kid, and it helps that someone else is around to make sure their daughter gets to school on time. Sabine and Tom also think that the two of them are pretty cute together, but decide to keep that little factoid to themselves.
Marinette's late, as per usual, stumbling down into the shop as she's greeted by the sight of her boy friend— emphasis on the space— comfortably leaning upon the counter, talking animatedly with his parents about some random topic about the happenings of the previous day.
(Is it strange that she's already getting used to that sight?)
"Marinette!" He notices her first, brightening up as she awkwardly waves at him. He's snuggly wrapped up in a warm jacket and hat, holding a to-go cup of hot chocolate in his hands.
"Morning, Adrien," she says, before quickly planting a kiss to her parents' cheeks. "Mom, dad."
"What? No kiss for Adrien here?"
Marinette splutters, to the amusement of his family— and even Adrien, who quickly coughs into his hand to hide the laughter that threatens to escape his lips.
She can't even say anything, with Adrien finally taking pity on her and tapping on the chair beside him, gesturing for her to take a seat.
"I was just talking with your parents," he starts. "About your plans for the holidays."
"Yes," her mom chimes in, smiling brightly as she leans onto her father. "You know, poor Adrien here doesn't have any plans for Christmas Eve? Mr. Agreste is only coming back from New York on Christmas Day, and I can't imagine how lonely it's going to be…," she side-eyes her husband, then gently nudges him at his blissfully unaware expression.
"Ah, right!" He coughs, then speaks in an almost overly-dramatic way: "How sad for Adrien, if only there was something we could do for him… if only he had somewhere to spend the day…"
Both of Marinette's parents eye her with sad eyes, as she only rubs tiredly at her forehead.
Why are her parents like this?
She takes a side glance to see Adrien, who has a somewhat soft smile on his face. (If anything, he even looks hopeful that she'll say yes.
Which is strange, considering that he can probably spend his Christmas anywhere he so wanted— from all the most lavish Christmas parties and celebrations… maybe she just doesn't understand the rich.
And it's not like she wants to tell him no, either.)
"Are you okay with this?" Marinette finally decides to ask, turning to face him directly.
After years of being friends and spending time together, she's glad to see that her tendency to stutter and stammer (and ultimately fail as a human being) around him has lessened by quite a bit.
But as he sits only a few meters away from her, close enough for her to almost count how many eyelashes he has, she frankly becomes reminded of how little it lessened.
And how her crush on him has only grown exponentially since they first met.
He smiles at her, and she has to physically force down the blush threatening to take over her face.
"Of course I am," he says honestly, maintaining eye contact with her as he leans the slightest bit closer. Marinette can't look away. "There's no place I'd rather be."
She wants to stay in the moment— really, she does— but her parents watching from beside her with the hugest smiles she's ever seen is more than enough to sever the mood.
Coughing awkwardly, she steps back and slings her bag over her shoulder. "That sounds great, then!" She finally says, "Christmas with Adrien Agreste, no big deal, nope! I'd love that— I mean, not that I love you but…," she pauses, then sighs in resignation. "Just. We'd love to have you there."
He laughs lightly, then stands up as well, holding the cup with one hand. He bows lightly to her parents. "It's always nice to talk to you, Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng."
"Please, just call us mom and dad."
They wink, and Marinette decides against turning back so she doesn't have to see their faces. Instead, she grabs Adrien's hand and pulls him forward.
"Let's go," she says, only belatedly realizing that ohmygod they're holding hands and they fit so perfectly together do all fingers intertwine and meld this amazingly—?
They're one foot out the door, when her parents speak up:
"Ahem, Marinette," her mother says, forcing her to turn back.
"What?"
She only smiles, before gesturing for her to look up.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me.
At her exhausted expression, Adrien looks at where she's staring:
Consequently noticing the mistletoe hanging above the bakery door.
"Really?"
Her parents look excited.
"I'm not going to—"
Marinette turns to Adrien, fully expecting him to decline as well: until she sees his awkward (though almost… excited?) smile.
His fingers tighten their grip around her own, as he looks down at their intertwined hands.
"It's just a harmless tradition," he says quietly, some sound of amusement resounding from his tone. "A little holiday fun?"
She can't speak.
Is he serious?
He leans closer, and she closes her eyes in anticipation.
Then she feels the unmistakable touch of someone's warm lips.
Upon her hand.
Marinette's eyes flutter open, in time for her to see him press a kiss to her knuckles.
"What?" He asks, almost playful. "Did you expect anything else?"
She can't even speak.
(And thankfully doesn't notice the stifled laughter from behind the counter. Betrayal.)
"Come on, we're going to be late!"
He tugs her forward, as they disappear outside the bakery.
Marinette doesn't realize that Adrien's still holding her hand until they arrive at François-Dupont.
.
.
MARINETTE waits for him outside the balcony.
It's eleven-fifty in the evening as the snow starts to pile up, leaving Marinette to wish she'd put on more layers than her pair of pajamas and a cardigan around her small frame. Her nose is getting red from the cold, but she doesn't quite mind it as much as it should.
Because when she thinks about him, all Marinette can really feel is warmth.
Blonde hair, bright green eyes, and a smile that can bring even the sun to shame…
She's only distracted from her thoughts as a familiar suit of black starts making its way toward her.
He arrives almost clumsily at her balcony, holding a bright-red box in his hands as he furtively tries to hide it from her attention.
(It doesn't work.)
"Chat," she only says, then rolls her eyes. "You're late."
The first thing he does is bow down to her.
"Yes, and I'm so sorry, but I had some issues at home and—"
"Never mind that," she only says instead. "Do you have it?"
He smiles. "Of course I do," he starts, jokingly saluting at her. "Your local delivery man, at your service."
Marinette brightens up almost immediately as the words escape his lips.
"And it's really from him?" She asks, slowly taking the box into her hands.
It's quite small, fitting the palm of her hand, but Marinette knows that whatever's inside— the worth is immeasurable.
She hugs it close to her chest. "I can't believe he got me a Christmas present."
Chat Noir smiles at how excited the girl seems to be. "I— I know he's just really sorry that he couldn't give it to you himself."
"It's fine," Marinette only responds, the soft smile still on her face. "I know that he really wanted to go, and that's more than enough for me."
She recalls how apologetic Adrien had sounded over the phone, after telling her that he couldn't spend Christmas Eve with her family. (If anything, Marinette thought that he sounded more upset than she did about it—
Which is saying a lot, considering that she'd been looking forward to it as soon as he said he'd go.)
She tinkers with the box for a few more moments, then looks up at the superhero.
"Did he tell you what was inside?"
He ponders her question a bit longer than he should have. "Technically, no," he says, then pauses. "But I do know what it is."
"How do you know?!"
Chat Noir smiles lithely. "Let's just say that Adrien and I are similar in a lot of ways."
Marinette has to stop herself from snorting. "Please," she laughs lightly. "The two of you couldn't be any more worlds apart."
"... and what do you mean by that?"
"Adrien's the perfect type," she starts, then stops as she notices the superhero's almost hurt expression.
"So I'm not?"
"Nope," Marinette says easily. "But that's what I admire about you. You're imperfect and messy and chaotic, but you love and embrace your flaws, and even my own. It's so easy to be around you."
"Then Adrien is…?"
"He's kind," Marinette says carefully. "He's the kind of boy everyone dreams of, me included. But I always wished he'd drop his perfect interior in front of me and show his true self."
"The flawed self?"
"Yes. Because I'm sure I'd still love him just as much."
She smiles absentmindedly, then carefully starts to open the box.
Inside is a locket; gold, with a simple ladybug token hanging upon the chain.
Marinette belatedly notices the simple paper put inside the box:
To our Everyday Ladybug—
She turns the paper around.
And my ladybug.
Marinette isn't even given a moment to process the information as she looks away from the box, to notice none other than the boy in question standing before her.
Plagg floats next to him, a cautious expression on his face.
"Adrien, I— you— wait…" He tries to make calming gestures with his hand, giving her time to understand what's happening. "This can't be real…? You— are you really… and Plagg… wait, I thought I wasn't supposed to know your true identity…"
He looks absolutely nervous, and can't even get the words out.
Plagg speaks in his place:
"Sorry for the surprise, kid, but Tikki and I talked it over. With you being the guardian and all, it was only a matter of time before you two find out," then he sighs tiredly. "Adrien found out about your true identity by accident. And after that, he's been insistent on being the one to do the reveal."
"I— but— you— I'm— this is—"
The sudden buzz of Marinette's phone informs them that it's midnight.
"Merry Christmas, Marinette," Adrien finally says, voice soft as he takes her hands. "I love you."
He leans closer to her, as she suddenly stops him.
"Wait— but a kiss— it's too soon, and so out of nowhere…"
Adrien pauses thoughtfully, then smiles; almost mischievous.
He retrieves a pen from his pocket, then takes the box from her hands:
The word 'our everyday ladybug' is crossed out, as a simple word proudly displays itself in black, bold, lettering.
He holds it above their heads.
MISTLETOE.
"Is this enough of a good reason?"
Marinette can't stop herself from laughing. "You couldn't even draw it?"
"I'm not the artist," he only says. "That's your job."
"Then what's yours?"
"I provide the quality humor and flirting, I think."
She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes.
"Fine then," Marinette starts, leaning close to him before…
Pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"The cheek?!"
"You didn't even get real mistletoe. So you don't get the real thing, either."
He hmphs, before his eyes suddenly twinkle. "But if I get real mistletoe, then I'll get a real kiss?"
"As long as it's still Christmas, then sure."
"Great," he grins. "Twenty-four hours then."
.
.
CHAT NOIR looks at her for confirmation.
The mistletoe stands proudly above the two of them as the purified akuma flies away into the night, easily forgotten by the rest of the Parisians.
All they care about— and all he cares about is the girl held in his embrace, as she looks at him with eyes that he can't at all decipher.
(Or maybe he can: but it's too terrifying to think of what things could be if he were wrong.)
From the background, Alya holds her phone as the scene is livestreamed to all the families and friends celebrating their Christmas together.
He leans in close to her, hesitant, as if asking a question.
The outsiders can't make it out, but he whispers in her ear:
"That's real mistletoe," he points out. Then slowly: "Are you sure you're ready for this?"
Ladybug doesn't say yes.
She doesn't say no, either.
Instead, she only smiles, leans forward:
Then kisses him.
Alya drops her phone as she throws her fist in the air, and the quiet chill of the city is instantaneously broken with a series of loud celebratory cheers and cries for celebration.
Everyone calls it one of the greatest Christmas miracles of all time—
And neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir can correct them.
She'd only moved in that day, after a haphazard decision to do so for independence and freedom in her own work. (Though the whole Ladybug-and-unexplained-disappearances thing when living her parents was a huge factor, too.)
Scratch that, it's probably the onlyfactor.
If it weren't for her parents' growing suspicion and concern due to her heroic escapades, Marinette would still choose to stay at home and with them; or at the very least, stay nearby.
She had to move a good distance away— a bus ride or so, in order to rationalize with her parents why she had to move out. ("But why do you have to leave?" "Moving would be easier for me to do my work! It cuts down on transportation time a lot.")
Never mind that as Ladybug, she can move from one side of Paris to another in mere minutes.
The apartment itself is quite modest, with enough space for her to live comfortably (but not much for anything else). Nino, Alya, and Adrien had helped her move in all her stuff, though quite a few were still left untouched inside their boxes.
It's more a reflection of Marinette's need for privacy than their helpfulness as friends, though— since a hefty amount of the items in those containers hold her carefully-curated collection of Adrien Agreste collectibles, limited edition items, and posters.
So. Many. Posters.
(It's been years, but her crush on him has only grown all the more intensely. She's grown out of her stuttering phase, fortunately, but the butterflies in her stomach don't fade, either.)
Exhaustedly, Marinette lies on her mattress.
They only left an hour ago… is it okay to miss them this much?
She's not accustomed to the quiet, especially with the bustling energy of her family and the customers that arrive for their daily dose of caffeine in the early mornings. The lack of aromatic scents of freshly-baked breads and desserts as she lays down is a stark reminder that she's not home anymore.
Marinette sighs to herself.
Maybe she's lonely.
Just a little bit.
It's in that exact moment someone comes knocking on her balcony door. The balcony is a good amount smaller than the one she had at home, only really enough for a few plants and one person—
Or one disguised cat-themed hero.
His smile's bright as she pushes away the curtain and opens the sliding door.
Chat Noir doesn't even wait for a verbal invitation; he walks inside, looking around in wonder.
"Wow, you've already unpacked a lot," he starts, noticing her sewing machine set up on a desk nearby. "You already took it out?"
An eyebrow raised. "Yeah… why?"
"I thought you were setting up your sewing area last," he starts, before absurdly coughing to himself at her suspicious glance. "I mean, considering that it's the only one without a designated space… I thought you'd do everything else first, because it's common sense, right?"
Hmmm.
"That was the original plan," she finally admits. "But I have commissions to work on, so I decided to keep it there. Temporarily, at the very least." Chat Noir nods, before Marinette gestures at him. "So… how did you find out about here?"
"What do you mean?"
"My apartment?" She asks, leaning upon the door frame. "I don't recall telling you where I was moving."
"Oh…," he pauses, sifting through her boxes. "Uh, superhero, remember? Ladybug and I make it a point to know where everybody is at all times. To protect the citizens of Paris and all that!"
Well, that's not even the slightest bit true, but it's not as if Marinette can rebuff him.
So, she nods in fake understanding instead and shrugs.
"That doesn't explain what you're doing here, though?"
Chat Noir smiles. "I figured that you'd meowss the company. You moved pretty far from your friends." He sounds almost sad at that revelation, and Marinette almost feels sorry.
(What would he be so sad for? It's not like she moved far away from him.
Though she wouldn't really know, if she did.)
"Well, I can't say that I don't appreciate you showing up." She smiles, eyes bright.
It's a sweet moment.
Until:
"You can help me unpack everything else."
(They spend the rest of the night unpacking things, but Marinette insists that one box be left alone. When Chat Noir accidentally sees a peak of an all-too-familiar model's poster flap out from its cover…
he thankfully decides against mentioning it.)
.
.
ii.
Chat Noir makes it a point to regularly stop by her apartment.
(Even at times he should be busy and on patrol— though more often than not, Marinette can't find it in herself to be angry at him.)
She still doesn't see her friends and family that often, but being with him, she finds, lessens the loneliness a lot; to the point that she finds herself more fulfilled, if anything.
At first, she figured that he'd get tired of him— seeing him both as Ladybug and Marinette, and so often, but it's the complete opposite. They talk about and do everything together, with her learning so much more about him than she'd ever expected to.
If anything, Chat Noir is good and fun company, even though she'll never admit it to his face.
It's a few months into their arrangement of random meetings when Marinette makes the mistake of going to her apartment straight home as Ladybug.
"… milady? What are you doing here?"
She pauses as she reaches for the balcony door, belatedly noticing that Chat Noir follows right after her. He's perched on the balcony railings, staring at her with confusion and almost suspicion.
Oops.
"Chat?! What are you doing here?" She points at him accusingly, almost stumbling backward. "I thought you said you were going straight home after the akuma!"
"Yeah…," he starts, eyebrows knitting together. "But I always stop by Marinette's to check on her if she's doing okay. She just moved away recently, and I just want to make sure she doesn't feel lonely or sad or anything." He pauses, realizing how his statement may sound. "I mean, speaking as a superhero, you know… I can't risk her getting akumatized! Especially since she's Multimouse and all…"
"That's actually… pretty sweet of you Chat."
He smiles softly, before suddenly narrowing his eyes. "That doesn't explain what you're doing here, though?"
She halts, evidently caught off-guard. "I— uh—"
"Ladybug… visiting Marinette… in her apartment… that means…"
"Wait, don't connect the dots—"
"Marinette's planning a surprise for me!"
"I'm not—
Wait. What?"
She's never seen Chat Noir look so excited.
"I knew she was planning something for me! You know, last time I came over, we were talking about birthdays, and I told her it was some time around this month… is that what the two of you were planning all this time? Ack, this is pawsitvely exciting my tails on end!"
Ladybug wonders how he can be so smart but so dumb at the same time.
(Well, whatever the case— it works out well for her.)
Ladybug smiles. "You know I can' tell you that!" Her voice is a notch higher than usual, as she playfully and awkwardly punches his shoulder. "… pal! Now go home and let us plan your surprise, okay?"
"Can I get a hint?!"
"Uh. Cats." She stops, almost similar to the way a robot would if they were to malfunction. "Yup. Cats. Like you. Now that's all!"
She pushes at him, before he finally relents and leaves the balcony.
The next day, Chat Noir comes to Marinette's apartment, and sees his surprise:
A cat-themed party.
Marinette looks absolutely exhausted, but seeing Chat Noir's bright smile— she doesn't quite mind it.
"Happy birthday, kitty: however old you are, and whenever your birthday really is!"
They spend the rest of the night celebrating together.
(Adrien's birthday happens a week later, and she's surprised to find out that he wants to spend it treating her out, just the two of them. She wonders why he doesn't want a birthday party, and he explains that he already had one— and nothing could top how perfect it was.
They spend the day going around together, and end it as he drops her off at her apartment. Alya and Nino insist it's a date.
Marinette vaguely wonders to herself if it was.)
.
.
iii.
Chat Noir stops by when Adrien doesn't.
Marinette rereads the text over and over again:
I'm so, so, sorry, Mari. My dad's not letting me out until I finish all the work I do. Let's hang out another time, okay? Miss you, Alya, and Nino a lot!
She sighs, walking over to turn off the oven. The scent of passionfruit macarons makes their way around the apartment, as she carefully puts them into a container. Her outfit, a nicely-fitted red dress— the one Alya calls the first date dress, shines in the room light.
It's a strong inner debate as to whether Marinette should call her friends, but she ultimately decides against it.
(It'd be mean to burst into their lives with last-minute plans, and she especially doesn't want to disappoint them with the news that her dinner-with-Adrien-and-confess-your-love plan had failed spectacularly— before she could even do anything about it.
Marinette figures that she'll just disappoint them later on.)
She raises the container of sweets to her face. "So, what should I do with this…?"
"I'd like to try them."
She almost drops the macarons as a sudden voice bounces off the walls, clutching her heart in evident surprise. "Chat? What the heck, don't scare me like that! How long were you standing there?"
He looks almost sheepish. "A few minutes… I tried knocking, but you seemed so distracted in your thoughts so I just came in." His expression turns concerned. "Are you okay?"
She shrugs. "Just a little upset, but nothing new, really."
"I'm sorry."
Marinette shakes her head. "What are you sorry for? It's not your fault." She sighs to herself, before offering the container to him. "Anyway, do you want to try this? I'm not sure if you'll like it because it's passionfruit, but…"
"Are you kidding me, I love passionfruit! It's my favorite flavor!"
He beams, before quickly taking a bite of the snack, and breathing dreamily to himself. "These taste amazing." Then, a pause. "But are you sure I should eat this? Didn't you make it for someone?"
Marinette laughs softly, then walks over to sit on the couch, gesturing for him to come next to him.
"Chat, do you love anyone?"
The question is upfront and straightforward, and he's evidently surprised by it.
After the initial shock, though, he smiles to himself. "Of course I do. She's the purrfect girl, andI think about her a lot more than I should," he says, staring at her for a good moment.
Marinette doesn't know how to describe how his stare makes her feel.
"I love someone too," she finally admits.
The words hang in the air, and Chat Noir doesn't know what to say.
"He's a lucky guy," he finally breathes, a sad look in his eyes.
"You'd think," she laughs to herself, almost bitterly. "But I don't think he feels the same way, or if he ever will."
"What do you mean— who wouldn't fall in love with you?! You're kind, and sweet, and pretty on a regular day but tonight you're absolutely stunning…"
"Haha, thanks kitty," she mutters, before holding on to her dress. "I even dressed up for him today…"
A quiet pause.
"Wait… the guy you were supposed to meet today is the one you're in love with?'
She nods silently. "Adrien Agreste. He's a good friend of mine, it's just that my feelings are something so much more than that…"
Marinette isn't looking at him directly, so she's surprised to notice him abruptly stand up.
"Sorry, I have to go."
"Chat? I'm sorry if this was too much but…"
"I'll see you around, Marinette."
It's the lack of a playful nickname that gets her.
Almost frozen, she somehow manages to nod.
And Chat Noir disappears into the night.
.
.
iv.
The next time they patrol, Chat Noir tells Ladybug they need to talk.
"Are you sure I can't reveal my true identity to anyone?"
Her answer is instantaneous. "Of course. It's too risky." She pauses, then almost careful: "Why do you ask?"
(Things have become more awkward since the last time Chat Noir went to her apartment; when he just left her without explanation and stopped showing up completely. They still meet as heroes, but it's become much more strained since then.)
He sighs to himself. "It's just… I'm in love." Chat Noir pauses, then immediately backtracks. "Not with you, of course. Not anymore. I respect that you love someone else, and I've finally fallen for someone different. And I don't want to reveal too much but… she loves me back."
Marinette feels happy for him, of course, but can't quite explain why her stomach churns uncomfortably at the idea of him being in love with someone else.
"Then, what's the problem?"
He laughs bitterly to himself. "She fell for my civilian identity."
Oh.
"So you want her to know you're the same person?"
Chat Noir pauses for a moment, as if in thought, then shakes his head. "No," he finally says. "I just want to be sure she loves the entire me, and not just the perfect character I keep up in real life. I want her to fall in love with Chat Noir, too. Because this identity's just as much a part of me as Adr— as my civilian self is."
Silence, again.
"As a superhero and the Guardian, I cannot stress the importance of keeping your identity secret. Even if it is someone you love." He winces, and she presses on. "But as your friend, I want you to be happy, kitty. So, do what you must." She smiles at him. "I know you'll do what's right."
The superhero smiles back, then abruptly gets up.
"Then if you don't mind, milady… I have somewhere to be."
By the time Chat Noir arrives at Marinette's apartment, she's already home.
"What are you doing here, Chat?"
"… for two things. Do you mind if I come in?"
She doesn't exactly willing to do so, but lets him in anyway.
"The first part is an apology." He looks at her, evidently ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry I just left like that back then. I shouldn't have left without an explanation, and it was one of the worst things I've ever done. I'm so sorry."
"As you should be," she only says, before sighing to herself. "And the second part?"
"An explanation."
"Better keep it short."
"I can summarize it in three words."
She looks up at him, suddenly intrigued. "Which is?"
"I love you."
(The dots connect themselves even without Marinette willing them to, and she catches on before Chat Noir even realizes the situation they're in.
Knowing about her address, his birthday celebrations, his love for passionfruit, the mysterious person he was in love with—is in love with, and his abrupt disappearance after her confession…
How did she not realize it before?)
The faces of two people Marinette love dearly start blending into one.
She never knew it would be possible to feel so much for one person.
Marinette starts laughing, tears in her eyes, as everything becomes that much clearer.
She smiles.
"I love you too—
Adrien."
(He almost falls off the balcony.
Fortunately, however— this time there's somebody around to catch him.)
.
.
v.
He knocks on the correct door, this time around.
And with him, a ton of boxes and containers that tower almost menacingly around his figure.
"Sorry I had to use this door," he starts. "But my stuff wouldn't fit through the balcony."
Marinette laughs, before putting her hands to fold in front of her chest.
"That's a lot of boxes," she observes. "I don't recall you having that much of a problem with my stuff back then."
"That's because I only stayed the night."
"And now?"
He smiles, then presses a sudden kiss to her lips.
"Hopefully, I'm staying the rest of my life."
She huffs at the sudden surprise, then smiles back softly.
ADRIEN gets an apartment in a strangely-named building called Liberty .
It's not his first choice, of course; though his current life choices lead him to no other option.
Well, that's not quite fair: Chloé offers to let him stay at Le Grande Paris— "for free," she explains, "I'll just have to tell daddy he can't rent the penthouse anymore."
But the last thing he wants is to depend on someone else after finally getting his freedom, so all Adrien says is "thank you", and declines.
Marinette's kind enough to help him go apartment-hunting, but her quirky and all-around strange (but endearing!) personality leads her to recommend Adrien the strangest buildings and landlords in town.
Anarka Couffaine, the landlady of Liberty, is no exception.
(The opposite, if anything else.)
She's a huge personality for a woman her age— something that visibly throws him off-balance. Adrien's become all but too used to stiff and strict adults, monitoring his every word and movement to assure that he's at his perfect behavior at all times.
A woman who he can only really describe as loud: from the volume of her voice to her unique sense of clothing and visible love for (over)-accessorizing is not at all something he's used to.
"Welcome to Liberty!" She tells him, bursting with life and energy. "You must be Marinette's friend, then?"
He winces, then smiles awkwardly. "Yeah, it's Adrien Agreste…"
"Agreste!" She says in surprise, eyes widening almost cartoonishly. "You're that young model everyone's obsessed with nowadays, aren't you? I'm not sure why I didn't recognize your face earlier— one of my kids is absolutely head over heels for you."
He laughs, though it's more politeness than anything else. "I'm flattered," he starts, before shaking his head. "And I don't believe I'm as big of a deal as you said I was, but I did work as a model, way back when."
She raises an eyebrow. "Did?"
"It's just… it wasn't my true calling," he fumbles for the right words to say, unsure of how to word it properly (especially to someone he's only just met). "I wanted the freedom to choose my own path, so I left. Which is kind-of why I'm here, I guess…"
Anarka's smile turns kind, and she pats him comfortingly on the shoulder.
"A search for freedom, then," she repeats, before grinning brightly. "You've definitely come to the right place! Here in Liberty, our crew is filled with all kinds of individuals trying to find themselves; without the rules or strictness to keep anyone down. To be true to yourself, without any limitations! That's what I want this building to be; a home for those creative souls to fulfill their deepestdesires and potentials."
She continues on for a good minute in a lengthy speech about freedom and discovery, and Adrien's surprised to find himself listening with rapt attention.
Freedom to find himself?
That's exactly what he needs.
When she finishes her long spiel, Anarka is greeted with a genuine smile and a hand offered for her to take.
"I'd love to live here, if you'd have me."
She doesn't even hesitate, joyfully taking his arm and giving it a firm shake.
"Nice to have you on-board with us!"
.
.
Adrien doesn't have a lot of things to move in.
And there isn't that much space for things, in the first place.
The apartment is modest, with general provisions for all his basic necessities… and not much else. If he had to compare things to his old room, the apartment was only the tiniest bit larger than his personal basketball court— almost nothing compared to the entire third floor he owned back at home.
Yet, even with the small amount of physical space, Adrien has honestly never felt so free.
He settles down on the bed, then shuts his eyes.
It's been a tiring day, after all, and all he wants to do is rest.
So, he tries.
Until the unmistakable sound of a guitar twang echoes through the room.
Adrien gets up with a start, only belatedly realizing that the sound isn't coming from his own apartment.
It's coming from the apartment next door.
He tries to ignore it, placing the pillow around his ears to cover the noise.
But the notes keep on coming.
Twang. Twang. Twaaaaaaang.
Then a few chord progressions, a thoughtful pause, then twang again.
If Adrien cared to listen, he'd realize that the tune isn't all that bad.
But no, he's sleep-deprived and cranky and about ready to fight someone if he doesn't get his eight hours of beauty rest.
(He may not be a model anymore, but he still takes care of his skin and body religiously.)
The sounds suddenly stop, and Adrien heaves a relieved sigh.
Finally!
Then, the sound of someone plugging something in. A bump, static, then the unmistakable sound coming from an electric guitar.
Please, no.
The mysterious neighbor starts playing various notes and melodies, as Adrien helplessly tries to ignore it.
Needless to say, he doesn't get any sleep that night.
.
.
He tries to get in contact with Anarka the next day, but she tells him that she's not around.
Instead, she gets him into contact with his son.
"He usually takes care of business in Liberty while I'm not around," she explains through call. "He's pretty responsible, if I do say so myself. A good kid. So I'll give you his number and— Jagged, don't you dare— I'm sorry, I need to go, but I'll see you around, yeah? Luka's in my office, just knock on the door and he'll let you in— ohmygod are you SERIOUS— I have to go now, bye!"
Luka Couffaine, then?
He makes a note to remember it.
.
.
Adrien knocks on the door carefully, and after hearing a muffled, "come in", goes inside.
Only to be greeted by the most handsome man he's ever met.
(Which is saying a lot, because Adrien regularly used to work with models, but he— he is on his own league entirely.)
Casually leaning upon the desk, Luka is definitely the textbook definition of what would one find if they were to search for attractive male on the dictionary. He gives off a completely confident and mature atmosphere, which clashes with Adrien's own more childish and (to some extent) immature vibes. The landlady's son smiles at him, and Adrien can almost feel his cheeks threaten to burst from the sudden heat.
Is it hot in here, or is it just him?
Me.
The weather .
He's spiraling.
"You must be Adrien Agreste, then?" He asks, voice smooth and husky and everything good all at the same time. "Our new tenant."
"Yeah."
Yeah. How intricate of you, Adrien.
Luka's smile grows wider. "So, adjusting to life here at Liberty okay? It can be hard for newbies the first few weeks," he pauses, then takes a moment to observe the overly-prim-and-proper posture of his conversational partner. "Some, more so than others."
He wants to protest, but can't quite get the words out.
Instead, he gives up.
"I— I have a concern."
"Hmm? What is it?"
"It's about my neighbor."
Luka pauses at the revelation, then smiles at him. "Ah, the one who lives in Room 202."
"Yes!" Adrien responds, almost a little too loudly. "Have you had problems with them before?"
He shrugs offhandedly, the smile still on his face. "He's caused his fair share of issues. What'd he do to you?"
He.
So, the musical maniac was a male.
"He won't stop playing! The whole night it was just twang twang twang, and I could barely even get any rest! You know, sleep is important; it ensures the body is prepared for the day and not to mention does absolute wonders for your skin—"
"So he ruined your beauty sleep?"
The younger boy huffs indignantly. "He ruined my regular sleep. I wouldn't mind him practicing in the morning or afternoon, but can he stop playing at night? It's two in the morning and I can still hear that damned melody in my head, like it's not even that good—"
"You don't think it's any good?"
Adrien's visibly thrown off by the sudden interruption. "I'm sorry?"
Luka repeats himself. "The melody? It wasn't good?"
"I, uh, I guess it was okay?" He corrects, unsure. "Speaking from a music theory perspective, the chord progressions blend together well, but it could be improved on…"
"What do you suggest?"
He's surprised to hear the seriousness in Luka's tone. "Uhm… maybe instead of hmmmhmmmhm, he could do hmmhmmhmhmmm?" Adrien pauses. "If that makes sense. But that's not my concern, my concern is—"
Luka repeats the tone to himself, then hums thoughtfully. "It does sound better."
"Yeah, but—"
"I need to go," the older boy suddenly says, getting up.
"Wait, but I still have an issue, so if you could…?!"
"Sorry," Luka smiles, turning back from the doorframe. "I'll be sure to relay your issue. But this is important, okay? I'll see you around!"
He almost runs out of the office, leaving Adrien to himself.
Like mother like son, then?
.
.
As Adrien readies to go back to sleep, he's ecstatic to find that there's no sound coming from the other apartment.
Thank you, Luka Couffaine.
He climbs to bed, shuts his eyes, then…
Knock.
Damn it.
Grumbling to himself, Adrien walks toward the door, then almost doubles over as he sees who's at the interest.
"Luka, what are you— I, is there any issue I can help you with?"
(Landlord, who?)
He laughs, then nods toward his apartment.
"Can I come in?"
"Uhm, I… why?"
(Rude, rude, why is he being so rude?)
Luka doesn't seem bothered.
Instead, he moves his arm to reveal something Adrien hadn't noticed at the start:
A blue-and-white electric guitar.
Oh, so he's a guitarist.
That's pretty attractive.
…
Wait.
"You're resident 202?!"
Luka nods, a hint of a smile still on his face.
"Yup. And I need your help."
"With what?"
"That melody," he starts casually. "You made it so much better. Want to hear?"
No, he does not want to hear. He wants the annoying guitar boy to leave his apartment and let him to go to sleep and—
Oh.
That actually sounds pretty good.
Luka hums along to the guitar, and Adrien pauses.
He's… not that bad.
Noticing his almost-smitten expression, Luka smiles. "Want to help me out with the rest of the song?"
The words escape Adrien's mouth before he even realizes it.
"Yes."
Huh.
"Wait… but on one condition."
Luka's eyes are almost smiling with him.
"Name it."
"No practicing in the evening."
"If you practice with me in the afternoon, then sure."
"… fine."
"Great!"
.
.
Working with Luka isn't easy. He's easily-distracted, gets lost in the music, and has a tendency to rely more on his feelings and instincts than objective fact and musical theory.
But his expressions come to life when he plays, and it's almost mesmerizing.
Adrien belatedly realizes that peace and quiet may be a little too boring, in the first place.
but i can't help but drive away from all the mess you made,
you sent this hurricane now it won't go away.
tumblr month: @auyeahaugust
links: ao3 | ff.net
"ISN'T owning a Bug a little too on the nose for you?"
Marinette only huffs at the statement, before opening the passenger seat to her car— a Volkswagen Beetle, vibrantly painted red with minor black accents. It really says Ladybug in every sense of the word, but thankfully, most only assume that she's a major fan or that it's purely coincidental. ("Because Marinette can't be that superheroine, of course. She's too _.")
Honestly, she doesn't know whether to feel grateful or insulted by the notion.
(It's fun, though: to see how far she can go without them figuring out her identity.)
Across her, Adrien smiles softly.
He's making jokes now, to Marinette's absolute relief. But it's not as genuine; she can still see the exhaustion under his eyes, the low tilt of his mouth, and the downcast expression his face wears, no matter how desperately he tries to hide it.
Adrien opens the back of the car, throwing in a bag of random necessities— clothes, toiletries, snacks, and whatever else one would haphazardly pack for a last-minute trip for god-knows-how-long.
Marinette already has a pre-packed bag for things in case of emergencies (Hawkmoth may have stopped being active, but it always helps to be prepared), so it doesn't really take much time for her to be ready to leave. She figures they'll be gone for the weekend, maybe a few more days, but guesses that it won't be for long.
(To be sure, though, Marinette leaves her parents a long-winded message that she's going out to Alya's. They've become all but too accustomed to her sudden and unexplainable disappearances, having long since accepted that they aren't privy to their daughter's whole affairs.
They assume she's got a secret boyfriend. She can't explain how intensely she wishes that it were true.)
Whatever the case, however, Marinette only wants to see her partner happy.
As friends, of course.
They both get in the car, with Marinette taking the driver's seat. She starts the engine, then turns to face him.
"So, where to?"
He shrugs. "I don't really mind where we go," Adrien starts, before sighing softly to himself. "As long as it's anywhere but here."
Marinette only nods, then starts forward.
She doesn't know where she's going, but decides that maybe (for the first time in life), it'd be better to go forward without a plan in mind.
.
.
The call arrived at five in the morning, through Ladybug's phone.
Her first instinct was that it was an akuma attack.
But when she picked up the phone, worried for the citizens of Paris, she steadily realized she should only be worried about one of them.
"Do you remember when we joked about running away together?"
He sounded like he'd been crying.
Marinette nodded, though fully aware that he couldn't see her through the other line.
Adrien didn't mind; he simply continued speaking.
"Maybe I wasn't kidding?"
The line was silent for a moment, before her calm and determined voice flowed through the phone.
"Let's go, then."
.
.
Adrien breaks the silence an hour into the road trip.
"I'm sorry I had you do this for me," he starts, evidently fumbling for the next words to say. "I didn't know who else to call."
"Don't be sorry. You know I'll always be here for you."
He stares at her, maybe for a moment too long, then smiles, almost forlorn.
"I know."
.
.
"My feelings for you haven't changed," Chat Noir began, as they watched the Paris skyline on the balcony. "Ladybug or Marinette… I still love you."
She swallowed down the sudden dryness in her mouth.
"Chat… Adrien… you know I—"
"I know," he smiled at her, then looked back up to the sky. "It's a beautiful view tonight."
.
.
They buy sandwiches at a nearby convenience store and decide to keep driving, as the moon peeks out from the sky.
"Beautiful," Adrien says, as he drives down the winding road.
They've decided to switch seats, allowing Marinette to take a much-needed rest in the passenger seat.
She looks up at him drowsily, rubbing at her eyes.
"Sorry, what did you say?"
He smiles softly, then gestures at the vast amount of greenery before them.
"The trees," he says. "I thought they were beautiful."
She looks at him longingly, then nods.
"They are."
.
.
Marinette still has nightmares about him.
Fighting him, while the rest of Paris— the rest of the world— sinks beneath their feet.
She remembers seeing her own body crumble at a single touch.
The look of insanity and love in his eyes… how the only thing she's ever wanted is transformed into her deepest fears in a single moment.
Little kitty on a roof, all alone without his lady.
She can't let it happen again.
Not to Paris, not to herself, not to him.
It's a risk.
And it's not one she's willing to take.
.
.
They decide to stop at a motel as midnight draws closer.
She insists he sleep on the bed, but he insists that it would be too unprofessional for them to share the bed with each other.
Adrien's not wrong.
It's a few minutes into them turning off the lights when someone speaks up, their voice echoing in the night.
"Are you still having nightmares?"
"The same ones."
"You know it's just a nightmare, right? It never happened."
"But it felt so real."
"Adrien, you would never do that to me."
"It wasn't on purpose… I just… I see flashes. White claws, your body turning to ash, a flood that ends the world… I was so scared… to lose you, to be the reason you're gone… do you promise it's just my imagination?"
There's a brief pause, and her voice almost sounds unsteady.
"Of course, kitty. I know you'll never hurt me."
"I love you."
"..."
"Good night."
.
.
They go home the next day.
(It's not really a road trip, if anything.)
She drops him off at his apartment.
"Call me if you have nightmares again," Marinette tells him. "I'll never let you be alone."
"I know," he smiles back. "You'll never leave this kitty all alone… not without his lady."
She freezes, then takes a deep breath.
"I'll see you, Chat."
The moment he disappears into the building, she slams the door to her car shut and covers her mouth; a feeble attempt in stopping the torrent of sobs and gasps that wrack her body.
if god’s the game you’re playing,
well, we must get more acquainted.
tumblr month: @auyeahaugust
links: ao3 | ff.net
"TIKKI, I believe I've warned you from meddling in human affairs."
She barely looks up from her cloud, continuing to peek at the mortal world down below.
"I'm not going to do anything, Wayzz," the goddess mutters offhandedly. "I just like to watch them."
"Really?" The god of Protection muses, tapping at his chin thoughtfully. "If I recall correctly, it was only last week that you meddled with the Bourgeois and Tsurugi families."
"It was a friendly nudge in the right direction," she huffs. "If I hadn't interfered, their kingdoms would have gone to war. I've saved us a lot of trouble in the long run."
"More like ruined my fun," a new god suddenly drawls, dressed in dark garments that starkly contrast the pristine white of the skies.
"Ah, and what are you doing all the way here, Plagg? Got lost on the way to your hovel down under?"
"I've noticed a terrible lack of dead bodies in what I was promised for the month. Spoke to the fates, realized a war had been wiped off history, and came up here to find out why." The god of Destruction spares her a flippant glance, then smirks. "Though I should have figured this little ladybug had something to do with it."
Tikki stands up, visibly irritated. "I thought I told you to stop calling me that," she growls, before pointing at him sharply. "Wayzz, I still don't understand why we still keep him around. All he brings to mortals is pain and sorrow; we should just lock him up and be done with it."
"Or maybe we could lock up the meddler and stop her from messing with history all the time. She's throwing our prophets into disarray and chaos." Plagg grins. "I'd be proud if her actions wouldn't bother my work so much."
The pair of gods turn to glare at each other again, to which Wayzz tiredly rubs at his forehead. How many times will they have the same argument? It's been millennia.
"Now I'm sure you're both aware of the importance to keep balance between gods," he starts saying. "Especially between you two. Life cannot thrive without death; positivity without negativity; good and evil. Whether you two like it or not, you're two sides of the same coin. Creation cannot be without destruction, and the opposite holds true. You are meant to be together."
Tikki rolls her eyes, and Plagg makes a gagging motion.
"Whatever," the god finally says. "As long as she stays in her domain. And as recompense, I'll be starting another war." (He looks absolutely thrilled by it.)
"Between who?"
"Hmm...," Plagg pauses thoughtfully, then smiles; almost sadistic. "The Agreste Kingdom."
"You can't do that!" Tikki says abruptly, before quieting down at Wayzz's serious expression. "Sorry. But the Agrestes are kind and reverent rulers— harming them would bring the gods nothing but disdain and disbelief from the mortal world."
"But we've been kind for too long. The mortals no longer fear us, and it's time we give them a reminder of how powerful we truly are." Plagg says it clearly, and as much as it hurts the other gods to say, he's right.
Wayzz nods. "But why the Agrestes, in particular?"
"They have power and influence. Some have even looked up to their family as gods. For a tragedy to strike them is the perfect reminder that humans are nothing when compared to us."
The three fall silent, as Wayzz contemplates his proposal.
Tikki is clearly against it, but can't say as much. Especially since the matter is largely of her own fault.
After a moment, the god of protection nods.
"You have my permission."
"But Wayzz—!"
"No buts, Tikki. This is only divine retribution; payment for your own mistake." He pauses, then stares Plagg dead in the eye. "But know your limits. Humans are tricky; we do not want their hate and anger, only a reminder of their limited ability. Do too much, and I will intervene."
The god of destruction smiles, then nods. "You've got yourself a deal."
As soon as Plagg leaves, Tikki speaks up.
"You cannot allow him to do this, Wayzz."
"We have no choice. There must be balance, else the whole world descend into chaos. What else would you have me do?"
The goddess pauses, then stares at him with sudden determination.
"Let me intervene."
"How do you mean?"
"You said it yourself, right? There must be balance. In darkness, born light. In gloom, born hope. And in villainy, a hero shall always rise up to fight against it."
"... And who shall you choose as your champion?"
Tikki looks back down at her cloud, to the young woman she'd been watching only moments ago.
Clumsy, but with a golden heart she's confident will always do the right thing.
The ray of light that will save her home's future.
"I know who would fit the role perfectly."
.
.
The news of Queen Emilie's passing strikes not only the Agreste Kingdom, but the entire country.
King Agreste takes a complete turn in personality. He becomes cruel, borderline tyrannical, and retreats to his palace completely.
The townspeople no longer see their ruler, and the kingdom succumbs to ills and wrongdoings.
Plagg hastily collects the souls he's long since promised.
"So what do you think of my masterpiece?" He smiles, carefully watching Tikki's expression for any sense of anger or loss.
They're cloaked, hiding inside the castle as they walk down the hallway.
She seems strangely calm.
It unnerves him.
"What are you so calm for? I'd have thought you'd be fuming by now."
"Your plan for mass destruction will fail. The Agreste Kingdom will survive, and even thrive long after this war."
"And how would you know that?"
"Because good always conquers evil. A hero will bring back the peace you've robbed from them."
He doesn't have to wait another moment for an answer, as a figure in red runs down the empty hallway.
"Who is that?"
Tikki smiles. "A hero."
Then suddenly, she crashes into another body, sending them both tumbling down the floor.
Plagg laughs. "Ha! You really chose such a klutz as your champion? She cannot defeat him."
The smile doesn't leave the goddess' face. She only tilts her head forward, urging him to continue watching.
The other intruder, donned in all-black, scratches his head.
He smiles, offering his hand to the girl.
"You must be my partner. I hope the goddess Tikki has told you about me?"
She takes his hand, then laughs softly, evidently awkward with the whole situation. "I'm sorry for bumping into you, I'd have thought we'd get a more dignified introduction."
"I don't mind," he says easily. "To meet the woman the gods themselves have chosen for me, this isn't anything less than an honour."
She raises her eyebrow. "Do you always flirt with someone you've just met?"
"You're the first," he winks. "And I'm hoping the only." He pulls her up, then bows down. "Now I do believe we have a kingdom to save. Shall we?"
Her smile is bright and determined.
"We shall."
As soon as they leave, Plagg faces the goddess in disbelief. "How did he become your champion?"
She shrugs almost offhandedly, a victorious smile teasing the edge of her lips. "As I said, good conquers evil. A hero will always rise up against the villain. He rose up to the challenge immediately— even without my interference."
"But him?" Plagg repeats. "To have a young man go against his father... I can't quite decide who between us is more evil."
Tikki smirks. "I have no comment about that. But I do play to win."
Plagg looks almost impressed, before offering his hand. "Then, let's see how this will go. I'm looking forward to another epic battle between creation and destruction."
some of us just want adventures,
the open-sea wind in our earrings.
tumblr month: @auyeahaugust
links: ao3 | ff.net
MARINETTE doesn't run away for any particularly deep reason.
She likes being a princess well enough; to be pampered and taken care of for every little thing. Whatever she wishes for becomes the topmost priority for people to fulfill. Life is convenient and easy, but sometimes to the point that it's too much so.
Whether or not it's a good thing, Marinette simply finds life in the palace boring.
More than anything, she wants freedom. She wants to face obstacles and danger. She craves adventure.
(Anything at all to get her out of the gated walls of the palace, if even for a moment.)
So when Marinette overhears her father talking about one of the merchant ships going to the Cesaire Kingdom— she's never been there before, and letters exchanged between her and Princess Alya always make it seem like a wonderful place to go— the occasion becomes both a golden opportunity and a goal:
To sneak out of the castle and get on that boat.
(In reality, Marinette can very easily ask her parents to send her to the Kingdom— and they'd be absolutely glad to do so, likely even sending an entire fleet to accompany her; but that'd be too simple.
She wants the dramatic adventures of being a stowaway on a ship, moving away to far-off lands and distant places. But she'll likely take one of Alya's boats when she decides to come back.)
It's supposed to only be a fun little vacation, after all.
Nothing permanent.
So when Marinette goes down to the seaport and sneaks onto a mysterious boat along the shores, with her kingdom's logo messily draped upon its sails, she expects to be found by kind merchants and jolly villagers who would gladly help on her mini little adventure while on the water.
Instead, however, she gets found by a not-so-nice young man with black hair dyed gold at the tips— something she'd never quite seen before— and is almost manhandled onto the ship's deck.
"Guess what I found crawling inside the hold," he grins, roughly pulling her forward. "A little bug managed to sneak inside without us realizing it."
"A girl?" A tanned boy appears and looks her up and down, eyebrows knitted in confusion. "How the hell did she get in here?"
Marinette's captor shrugs, still holding her by the arm. "Must've done it while we were getting supplies at the… where were we again?"
A messy-haired boy rolls his eyes, half-covered by the bangs upon his face. "The Dupain-Cheng Kingdom. Kim, we were just there like half an hour ago."
"Shut up! It's not like I should care about that stuff. You're the cartographer," he suddenly pulls at Marinette, making her wince. "And I'm the muscle."
"Anyway, I don't get why anyone would sneak in here in the first place." The tanned boy speaks again, walking towards her and kneeling down until they're facing each other directly. "Do you have a death wish, little girl?"
Marinette spits in his face, before suddenly thrashing and breaking free of the man's— Kim's— chokehold. She grabs the sword sheathed in his belt, steps back, and panickedly holds the weapon forward.
"Don't come near me!"
Nino wipes at his face with his sleeve, but otherwise seems (strangely) unbothered.
He only smiles. "Do you even know how to use that?"
"Shut up!" Marinette says, frantic, before waving the sword around. "What kind of merchants are you, to handle a woman— to handle me, so roughly… how dare you?!"
(She realizes later on how entitled that sounds, but blames it on her royal upbringing.)
"We're not the one who snuck into a pirate's ship, miss. You're the trespasser here."
She splutters. "That's not the point! The fact is that I— wait.
Did you say pirate ship?"
The tanned boy walks forward, and his smile does nothing but unnerve her.
Marinette takes a step back.
"Do you realize the situation you're in, then?"
"No, but I… this is a Dupain-Cheng merchant ship," she starts, barely getting a word out. The pirates seem completely indifferent to the sword she's wielding. They corner her, slowly but surely. "I saw the flag, it's—!"
She looks upward to point, only to belatedly notice that her kingdom's insignia is completely gone, replaced by a black flag with an undoubtedly familiar catlike skull placed upon it.
It's the insignia of every scary story and warning Marinette's ever been told about since she was a child.
She's almost backed up against the door.
"This can't be his ship… not that monster…"
The door suddenly opens, and Marinette's pushed forward.
A young man stands in front of the door— tall, imposing, with dazzling green eyes that seem to pierce directly into her own.
(If this were any other occasion, Marinette would think him attractive.
But she recognizes that face from the stories they tell.)
Devilishly handsome with a mouth always upturned into a smile,
His appearance is the only beauty from destruction.
Marinette vaguely notices even the pirate men step back suddenly, evidently fearful of their leader.
"Chat Noir."
She manages to say it, her voice barely above a whisper as his smile grows ever-larger.
"So you've heard of me?"
"The black cat… the symbol of despair and destruction to whoever come across you and your party." She pauses, and holds her breath. "They say nobody has seen you directly and lived to tell the tale."
"My reputation precedes me. But I've heard too much about myself."
He kneels in front of her, and forcefully tilts her chin up to face up.
"Now do tell me, how has a ladybug such as you strayed so far from home?"
.
.
"I thought I was going to die right then."
"I do recall you having a flair for the dramatic."
"Me? Do I need to remind you what the entire Seven Seas thinks of you?"
"Ah yes, I remember what you said. The symbol of destruction and despair, am I right? That nobody has ever seen me and lived."
Shove.
"Ah, if only the people truly knew that the black cat pirate they were terrified of was actually just a kitty in disguise."
"They will know and believe what they wish. After all, who would guess that the black cat's wife was the lost princess of the Dupain-Cheng Kingdom?"
"Please, I'm much happier leaving Princess Marinette behind."
"DUDE, can't I just send some fire emojis and be done with it?"
Adrien's look of horror tells Nino everything he needs to know.
"No way," he starts, shaking his head. "This is Marinette; send her that and you might as well just have flushed all your chances down the drain."
"But shouldn't I be myself?"
His best friend's stare is deadpan. "Nino, you're the coolest guy I know and you know I absolutely support you, but…," Adrien puts a hand on his shoulder. "You have no idea how to deal with women."
Nino rolls his eyes. "Oh, right. And you do?"
"Hey! A lot of girls like me!"
"Yeah, and you don't even talk to any of them. I even started feeling bad for Chloé, with how bad you were friendzoning her before."
Adrien huffs, but can't quite rebut his statement, either. "It's not my fault! All the girls who have a crush on me don't even know me, and I can't fall for that kind of person."
"Ah yes, Adrien Agreste, the hopeless romantic."
"Shut up," he argues, punching his friend in the arm. "It's rare to find girls that I can just be friends with because they want to date me." (Nino coughs 'cocky' into his hand, but Adrien pointedly decides to ignore it.) "Which is why Marinette is so special— and why just texting her a bunch of random emojis just isn't going to cut it."
Nino pauses briefly. "You really care about her, huh?"
"Of course I do!" Adrien says, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. (And maybe it is to him, to so easily care about his closest girl friend— emphasis on the space, as if they've known each other their entire lives.) "And I'm glad that out of everyone she could end up with, it's with my best bro of all time."
"Yeah…"
"Come on, don't feel so down!" He starts to say, patting him on the back. "I've seen the way Marinette looks at you, there's definitely something going on there."
Adrien remembers how often he'd see Marinette side-eyeing the two of them, or throwing not-so-secret glances whenever she thinks they don't notice. Besides being a novice at romance, he knows that look.
A longing look, a fond expression…
All the shoujo mangas and romcoms he's seen point to the exact same thing:
That Marinette Dupain-Cheng is very clearly in love with whoever she's looking at.
And clearly, she's staring at his best friend, Nino Lahiffe.
Clearly.
(Because who else could he be staring at?)
"Do you really think so, dude?"
He nods solemnly. "Swear on it." It's nice to see Nino brighten up at his statement. "Now give me your phone."
"What? Why?"
"Because if you're going to start doing this virtual penpal thing with her, you have to make sure your first message isn't one she's just going to ignore. So nothing you'd… usually send." He looks through Marinette's penpal email curiously. "How'd you hear about this anyway?"
"Alya told me. Pretty neat, huh?" Nino says, smiling. "I honestly didn't think she'd tell me anything, but I said someone wanted to connect with Marinette because he, uh, likes her, and we shared a glance. You know? I think she knows what's up."
"Of course she knows. You're not that subtle, either." A punch in the arm. "Hey!" (He deserves it.)
"But yeah, she told me Marinette's account and said 'Tell him that I said good luck. And that I know Mari's going to love this.' I'm not sure why she didn't just tell me directly, but it's nice of her."
"That's great! Then we have her on our side, perfect." Adrien says, eyes bright. "Alya is Marinette's best friend, and it'll help us out in the long run. Keep talking to her, okay?"
"Yes, sir," Nino says, jokingly saluting to him. "I don't mind anyway, she's actually a pretty cool girl! We spent the whole night talking yesterday."
"About Marinette?"
"Uh… no. We were just talking about life and stuff. And she thinks my emoji game is absolutely spectacular."
Adrien sighs. "Well, I know for a fact that Marinette won't. So let me type up the message, yeah?"
"Fine." A pause. "Oh right, forgot to tell you that you need anonymous names to use the app."
"What… like a secret identity or something?" That's pretty cool.
"Yeah? I mean, it doesn't have to be something you think that hard about. Marinette's alias is Ladybug. Don't know why, though."
(Adrien does. It's because Marinette loves ladybugs and how they're usually seen as a symbol for good luck. If anything, it suits her; with her happy-go-lucky personality and all.)
"Do you have a name already?"
"Nope. So you can make one up if you want." Nino notices Adrien's expression, as if deep in thought. "Got an idea?"
"Maybe I do."
.
.
LADYBUG,
That's a fitting name for you. It was by sheer luck that we met, and I've been the luckiest to have known you for the time that followed. My streak of bad luck and bad days ended the day you first smiled at me, and I'm happy to say that since then you've taken over not only my mind, but my heart, too.
("That's corny." "Shut up, Nino.")
As the symbol of good luck, maybe you'll grant me the good fortune of becoming my penpal? I'll truly be unlucky if you don't accept.
From your secret admirer,
Chat Noir.
("Oh, I get it. Because black cats are unlucky, and ladybugs are the opposite so… that's pretty deep of you, bro." "Thanks, bro."
"Now let's just hope she'll respond to it.")
.
.
"Alya Alya ALYA— someone just sent me a penpal letter are you confidentit's him?!"
"Absolutely! Nino was trying to be vague about it, but I just know who he was talking about. I'm a hundred percent confident that it is. I'll bet the Ladyblog on it!"
"But he's in love with me?! He never showed any signs that he felt this way and ohmygod I'm spiralling how is this happening it's probably just a huge misunderstanding and I'm completely reading it wrong why wouldn't he tell me directly and just penpal me instead, like am I not obvious enough with my feelings…"
"Calm down!"
"... sorry."
"He's probably just as nervous as you are. So the guise of anonymity is helping him become more upfront and honest about his feelings."
"Do you really think he likes me?"
"That boy is your soulmate so answer the message or God help me I will."
"Fine… but you're absolutely sure it's him?"
"How many times do I have to say yes! I'm absolutely sure!"
"... can you say it just so we're clear?"
"Okay, I promise with complete certainty that 1.) your penpal Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste, and 2.) he is completely, and head over heels in love with you."
love at first sight's for suckers,
at least it used to be.
tumblr month: @auyeahaugust
links: ao3 | ff.net
THE first time Adrien walks into Marinette's shop, she falls in love. And it's in that split moment she realizes something is wrong.
His smile makes her heart soar, the blush coming up to dust her face completely unprompted. She feels herself become giddy with emotion at seeing him face-to-face, but all Marinette can really think about is one thing:
'Wow, that's an extremely potent spell'.
"Someone put a curse on you for love, then?"
The look of relief on his face makes her pause. She's surprised by how strongly her heart's beating at his change in expression, not having reacted so strongly to a curse before.
(Which is saying a lot, considering that Marinette regularly deals with cursed magical items and people on a daily basis. Love spells are nothing new, but it's definitely the first time she's encountered something that's affected her so intensely.)
"Yes," he breathes. "Some young maiden had ambushed me a few days ago and cast a spell upon me, saying something about an unrequited love…"
Marinette laughs softly, before walking over to her shelves to retrieve the necessary items to undo the curse. "As they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned; especially in matters of the heart." She carefully picks out a few vials and herbs, before setting them down on the table.
"I never meant to scorn her…," he says, looking down, visibly bothered by the reality that he had hurt someone. Marinette finds it adorable.
Because of the love spell, of course.
"I simply didn't want to lead her on with false hopes of romance." He pauses. "I want to pursue a relationship with someone I truly love."
"Maybe I could be that person."
They both look up. Marinette; the more surprised between the two of them.
"Sorry, the curse is rather powerful. Forgive my boldness."
He looks caught off-guard, and she'd daresay claim that his cheeks were turning somewhat red as well. Adorable.
"I, uh," he nervously adjusts his collar, then coughs into his hand. "Of course. This curse is quite a handful to deal with. Do you have customers, uh, like me, that often?"
Marinette hums. "Mhm. Love spells are quite common these days," she muses, before beginning to put the ingredients into a large pot. "Especially with the Festival of Saint Valentine coming soon. Many novice witches and sorcerers chanting spells they have absolutely no business handling, and for such selfish reasons... ," she pauses thoughtfully. "It's no wonder their spells go awry."
"Is that what happened to me?"
She nods. "The young maiden who cursed you likely wanted you to fall in love with her— though it did backfire to have everyone fall for you instead. Had she done the spell correctly, fixing this wouldn't be so easy." Marinette notices her customer shudder, then laughs lightly. "Not to worry, even the most experienced mages have difficulty conjuring such a curse." She stares at him directly, a hint of a smile teasing the edge of her lips as a heart-shaped puff of smoke escapes her concoction.
"Love is the most powerful magic in the world, after all."
He looks absolutely flustered.
Putting the potion into a small container, Marinette hands it over to him. "Drink this before you go to bed, and the spell should wear off by the time you wake up the next day.
"... thank you." He starts, handing her a few gold coins before turning back to the exit.
Something in Marinette's veins— the effects of the spell, maybe (but it feels much deeper than that), tells her to call after him.
"Not to be so forward, but I would appreciate knowing the name of the man I've fallen in love with."
She can see him almost drop the vial.
He turns back, a graceful flush of red taking over his features.
"I, uhm, I'm—!" He looks absolutely mortified, but manages to stutter the words out. "Adrien. I'm Adrien. I'm a visitor from the neighboring kingdom, because I've been told of your mastery with curse-breaking…"
"So you went all the way to our kingdom for me? I'm flattered."
"Well…!"
Marinette's laughing, face bright.
"It's great to meet you, Adrien. I do hope that you visit again, though hopefully without a curse this time around." She doesn't know what makes her do it, because in any other circumstances she absolutely wouldn't, but Marinette winks. "I would like to fall for you properly, the next time around."
He's entirely speechless by the time she's done talking, only nervously muttering incoherently as he makes over-the-top gestures with his hands.
Cute.
Adrien bumps into the door on his way out.
"I, uh, ah, uhm… thanks a lot, then, bye!"
.
.
When Marinette wakes up in the morning, her first realization is that she's experiencing a pretty severe bout of complete and absolute embarrassment.
Memories of her so openly flirting with a man, much less one that she had only just met, begins haunts every crevice of her mind. She's not that bold? She's not the forward type, especially when it comes to romance? How strong was that damned love spell, to drastically change her character like that?!
And to experience a complete three-sixty in personality because of a man? (No matter how adorable and borderline-perfect that man may be…)
Marinette's second, and admittedly belated, realization is that her head remains to be full of thoughts of Adrien Agreste.
Specifically, thoughts of meeting him again as they both run away into the sunset together.
Even the mere thought of him makes her face explode into a shade of crimson she never thought possible to bloom on a human.
So he forgot to take the potion, then.
If she's still in love with him, after all, then it must mean the curse is still active.
It's the only logical reason, after all.
Why else would she continue to think about him?
Oh well, maybe he'll remember again tomorrow.
(And maybe the panic over his thoughts of her will disappear, too.)
But when another day passes, then a week, then two, without any change in her feelings…
Marinette makes another, albeit much more panicked, realization that maybe he had taken the vial after all.
And if the spell is broken, while she's still thinking of him (in increasingly more and more romantic scenarios)…
