Jason’s and Bruce’s rocky relationship is actually a pr move to make sure the rest of the batfam doesn’t get attacked by reporters and gcpd.
Essentially Red Hood, while liked by the Crime Alley citizens and other citizens as well, has a pretty bad reputation with a lot of the rest of the city. The GCPD hate him for his overt violence and the head incident. The Media hates him cause he’s what they all feared Batman would become and are constantly creating news stories on him. A lot of the other citizens are just scared of him cause sometimes his temper gets out of control. It’s not the best reputation.
Bruce and Jason have long since talked and settled their differences. Well, it’s more of a “I don’t approve of your methods but I will acknowledge you as a person who wants to help, but I will still dislike the guns. Also I missed you” from Bruce and “I’m not happy with a lot of your decisions but I also understand why you came to those decisions. I’m still mad but I now know that you missed me and I missed you too” from Jason. They’re better than they were originally and honestly that’s all they could hope for. Jason visits the manor more and is having fun being brothers to Dick and Tim.
Here’s the thing though… his reputation as Red Hood may have accidentally spread to the other Bats. A few team ups here and there (and the red bat on his chest) have made everyone assume that Batman is now working with Red Hood, a known crime lord. The media and GCPD were on them like flies on shit. Jim tries to calm down the gcpd with mixed results, but he can’t stop the media from blowing this out of proportion. It’s like the news channels from Dark Knight Returns, but worse.
Jason, who just got his family back, is fucking pissed. Jason is also dramatic as hell. Bruce was willing to just deal with this, but Tim is too new at this to be caught in the crossfire. Bruce was just gonna bench him out of fear until things calm down (he’s dealt with this before) but Jason brings up his plan to Bruce. Bruce isn’t as dramatic as Jason, however he is still absolutely dramatic. He agrees. So begins an epic fight between two ideals that ends two vigilantes at each other’s throats constantly.
Red Hood and Batman fight any time they are together, Red Hood is arrested by Batman on multiple occasions, and Red Hood always escapes leaving terrifying threats spray painted where the bat can see. (Jason and Bruce give each others shit for the pot shots they take and Bruce compliments Jason’s form when he gets a good hit in, Bruce gives Jason a heads up to the easier ways to get out of a police car and Jason ignores him going for the most dramatic ways, Bruce complains that the code Jason uses for his threats are obvious and he can just ask Alfred himself for cookies, why does Bruce have to be the middle man.)
The super hero community doesn’t really know this (cause they can be pretty bad actors at times, says Bruce) tis can cause problems. Superman and Green Arrow capturing Red Hood. Batman had to pull the “he’s Gotham’s problem give him to me,” which led to a hour of arguing to get Jason back. Tim’s friend have Red Hood on their hit list for what Hood did to Robin (Tim is over it but he does use this as a way to get back at his brother when he pisses him off) and Red Hood has to be on the Villain List to sell the act, so every hero ever knows the Red Hood is a villain. This leads to chaos.
There are still rough moments where Bruce and Jason still fight, but it’s better. Jason gets to hang out and play games with Tim. He plans overly dramatic fights with Dick (with full plot cause these two are so extra.) He helps Alfred in the kitchen again talking about books they’ve both read. He and Bruce talk again, they talk about their fears and what they’ve missed. It’s better, and that’s all that really matters.
The June event for the @mlwritersguild was to create bonus content for an existing fic. I decided to return to the universe of let's get covered in flames and play some games with the smoke, my 1920's enemies and lovers au.
In this, I wrote the entire second half of the original fic from Adrien's POV, showing pivotal scenes that were missed before. I also made a playlist for this AU which can be found here:
AO3
Adrien wakes up first.
The air is much cooler now—a blessed relief from the blazing heat earlier in the day—and he inhales deeply, breathing in the salt air of the beach, feeling the wind ruffle his hair. Marinette lies against him, her body a warm weight on his chest and he drops a kiss to the top of her head. His arm tightens around her shoulders as she hums contentedly at the gesture, snuggling closer to him, and happiness blooms in his chest.
Happiness.
Happiness has always evaded Adrien. He is still not quite used to it. He doubts he ever truly will be.
He has precious few memories of his mother, and those he does recall with any sense of clarity are more often than not tainted by the presence of his father. Still, he remembers those early years, before he was weighed down by expectation and responsibility; when laughter came easily to him and all he cared about was how best to annoy his brother, what was for supper, or whether mother would read his favourite story again at bedtime.
It was a simpler time. A happier time.
Once, he might have wished to go back and live in those boyhood days forever.
Not anymore.
Now, with Marinette by his side, with the two of them far, far away from those that would keep them apart, he would live in this moment-this weekend- a hundred times over.
But time marches on, indifferent to his petty mortal wishes and Adrien watches the sky change colour above them with a sigh. The beautiful powder blue is now streaked through with purple and orange, the clouds edged with pink as the sun dips below the horizon, and as the first tendrils of darkness creep across the sky he knows the moment is over.
Shifting carefully, he lifts a hand, running it through Marinette’s hair gently. “Marinette,” he murmurs, laughing quietly at the small noise of protest she makes, her nose scrunching up adorably. “C’mon sleeping beauty, time to wake up.”
“Wha—” she breaks off with a yawn, pushing herself up onto her elbows and meeting his gaze blearily. “What time is it?”
“Time to go, if we want to make it to dinner on time.” Adrien resists the urge to smooth out the furrow between her brow, then gives in to the impulse, quickly pressing his lips to the spot instead. “We should head back to the hotel to get changed.”
“Oh!” Marinette exclaims, shooting fully upright, finally taking in the empty beach around them. She swats at his chest, levelling him with a distinctly unimpressed glare. “We’ve been here for hours! Why didn’t you wake me?”
Standing, Adrien pulls her to her feet, “because, doll…” he grabs her hand, tugging her forward so that she stands flush against him, grinning when her arms automatically wrap around his waist. “You needed the rest. And because…” cupping her face, he tilts her head up, drawing her into a soft kiss and smiling against her lips. “I love you.”
A thrill runs through him at the words, and from the look on Marinette’s face, she feels the same, though she holds onto her annoyance a moment longer, before shaking her head fondly, expression clearing. “You can’t use that for everything you know.”
“Really.” Raising an eyebrow, Adrien gathers up their belongings, taking her hand as they begin the walk back into town. “And why not? I’m only telling the truth after all.”
“Really, really.” Marinette confirms, bumping his hip. “It won’t always get you out of trouble.” Moving to stand in front of him, she rests her arms on his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “But maybe this once…” her eyes sparkle playfully, entrancing Adrien and he watches, enraptured as her tongue darts out to wet her lips, almost missing her next words. Voice lowering, Marinette pulls his head down until their lips are a mere hair's breadth apart, and she continues “if you’ll say it again.”
Adrien is only too happy to oblige. “I love—” she doesn’t let him finish, surging up on her tiptoes to kiss him, almost bowling him over with the force of her movement. “Easy there,” he breathes against her lips, circling an arm around her waist to steady them.
Marinette responds by pressing closer to him, her fingers tangling in his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp, drawing a soft groan out from his chest and he bites her bottom lip in retaliation, swallowing her gasp with a smug, throaty laugh. Running his hand up her back, he relishes in the way she shivers, arms tightening around him as he cups the back of her neck, drawing her into a deeper kiss. Her mouth is soft against his; soft and sweet, tasting of the strawberries he’d fed her on their picnic, and he sweeps his tongue between her lips, chasing after the flavour, letting it consume him entirely.
After what feels like an eternity, they pull away, breathing heavily. Pressing his forehead to hers, he meets her gaze steadily. “I’d say it to you a thousand times, doll,” he pecks her once, twice more before continuing, “even if there wasn’t the promise of a kiss from your lips afterwards.”
“And mean it too?” Marinette’s voice is light, almost teasing as she asks the question, as if she already knows the answer and just wants to hear him say it. But her expression is earnest, and he sees that the question is genuine: some part of her worries his love will diminish, that it will not last.
“I love you,” Adrien says again. Running his hand down her arm, he twines their fingers together, squeezing her hand and bringing it up to his mouth to press a kiss to the knuckles, glancing up at her through his lashes. “I mean it more now than I did when I said it a moment ago.” Dipping his head, he kisses her brow, “I love you,” he kisses her eyelids, smiling as they flutter closed, a blush dusting her cheeks. “Even more now,” he whispers in her ear, breath ghosting along her skin. “I love you,” pressing soft kisses along her jaw, he murmurs the words against her skin like a prayer before finally capturing her lips. “A hundred times more.”
Drawing back, he strokes her cheek with the backs of his fingers, chuckling softly as Marinette leans into the touch. “There will never be a moment that I do not mean it, because it is impossible for me to exist in a world where I do not love you.”
Marinette opens her eyes slowly, and his breath catches at the sheer joy he sees in them, spilling out into her smile—wide and brilliant and beautiful—and he feels his own lips tug into a matching grin as she responds.
”Good answer.”
***
Happiness has always evaded Adrien. He doesn’t know why he thought this time would be any different.
***
“Break her heart,” father says. “Or you’ll be picking up the pieces of her broken body instead.”
At his words, the dread that has been simmering in his gut for the last five minutes reaches a rolling boil, but instead of consuming him whole, Adrien feels it transform into a blinding rage that propels him forward, the blood rushing in his ears. Dimly, he is aware that he is probably —no, definitely — making things worse for himself, and yet, in this moment, he doesn’t care, can’t stop himself from lunging across the table, grabbing the lapels of father’s suit and yanking him forward until their faces are mere inches apart.
“Don’t you dare,” Adrien growls, tightening his grip “don’t you dare so much as look at her. If you even touch a single hair on her head…”
Father remains unperturbed, his expression almost bored as he says: “whether or not anything happens to her is entirely up to you.” The corner of his mouth tilts up in the facsimile of a smile. “I rather think I’m being benevolent, giving you this choice. I had half a mind to kill her as soon as I found out about your little…affair.” He spits out the word, as though it is something dirty, and then smiles again, baring his teeth. “You should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you? ” Adrien laughs, a short, hysterical sound. Shaking his head, he leans forward, and hisses. “There isn’t a single thing that you could do that would make me thank you. Not now. Not ever.”
“Very well,” father almost looks pleased . “I suppose there’s no need for you to break that girls heart after all, if you’re too ungrateful to accept my kindness for what it is.” His eyes flick to something over Adrien’s shoulder “I can send the Gorilla to eliminate her instead.”
The Gorilla.
All of the anger rushes out of him as quickly as it had arrived, leaving him winded and struggling to breathe. The tightness in his chest has him feeling as though he’s been punched in the gut, and Adrien lets go of father with bloodless fingers.
The Gorilla.
The most ruthless of father’s henchmen.
He would not be gentle. Nor would he be quick. Adrien knows that firsthand. Father had sent him on many a ‘job’ with the Gorilla in the past, and he remembers them now. Remembers the many nights where he had returned home, horrified by what he’d seen, the screams of men echoing in his ears as he emptied the contents of his stomach in the bathroom and tried to scrub the stench of blood from his skin.
His clothes, he had always burned.
Unbidden, he sees Marinette in his mind's eye, her body lying broken and bloody in front of him, her lips parted in an agonised scream, tears frozen on her cheeks. He sees her blue eyes—usually so vibrant, so full of life — open wide, staring straight at him, accusation frozen in her eyes, condemning him.
Why? Her eyes ask him, her expression stricken. Why didn’t you save me? How could you do this to me? You didn’t protect me.
Stumbling back a step, Adrien barely notices father's gesture to his brother, barely even notices Félix grab his arms and force them behind his back as he begins to drag him backwards towards the door.
His thoughts swirl round and round in a frenzy, coalescing into one word, a chant that gets louder and louder in his mind — no, no, NO, NO, NOT HIM- until—
Adrien comes back to himself, panic clawing at his throat as he begins to struggle to free himself, almost feral with desperation. They are almost at the door when he meets fathers cruel gaze, and with a roar, he wrenches himself out of Félix’s grip, moving back across the room in two large strides.
But this time, he does not attack.
Instead, Adrien falls to his knees, his head bowed, all of the fight draining out of him. Father is scrutinising him now, watching him as though he is a particularly fascinating exhibit in a museum, waiting for him to speak.
Adrien licks his lips, struggling to find the words that will make father spare him. Spare Marinette.
“We’ll leave,” he babbles, desperate, and uncaring of what father thinks of him, begging on the ground at his feet. “Félix can have the ring, you’ll never hear from me again, we won’t get in your way—” Marinette will never agree to it, he knows, but the only saving grace is that father has no idea who she really is, and he’s sure he can convince her, and—
Anger blazes in fathers eyes. “You would abandon your mother, just like that?”
“Mother is DEAD ” Adrien yells, finally looking up. “She is dead and gone, and she would loathe you more now than she did while she was living!”
This time, he sees father’s hand coming.
He doesn’t get out of the way, letting the blow land on his cheek—harder than before. Hard enough to draw blood; to send him sprawling onto his back and knocking the breath out of him. Sitting up carefully, Adrien spits out the blood in his mouth before continuing, quieter now—more earnest.
“I know that you loved her—there was a time that she did too, I’m sure of it. But...would she recognise the person you have become? A man who would condemn his own son to the same suffering-the same loss as himself, when there is another way?”
Félix hauls him to his feet, tugging him towards the door, but Adrien refuses to move, his heart pounding in his chest as he tries to calm his ragged breathing.
This is it. His last chance.
“Please, ” he whispers, voice cracking. “Please, father. I have never asked anything of you.” Tears prick at his eyes, roll down his cheeks as he stares beseechingly at father. “I ask only this, I beg you-for the sake of the love that you have for mother, spare Marinette.”
For a long moment, there is silence, and then…
Father turns away.
***
The note slides under his door at midnight.
Adrien pounces on it like a man starved, snatching it from the ground with trembling fingers.
For a long moment, he simply holds the paper, staring down at it in his hands, too afraid to turn it over. He sees father’s expression in his mind, the cold indifference, the cruelty . Could he be merciful?
Tilting the paper up to the light, Adrien tries to count how many words are on the other side before giving up and finally flipping it over, forcing himself to read what has been said.
The note is short and to the point. Only four words. The most important words in the world.
You have seven days.
Relief sweeps through his entire body, the vice grip around his heart loosening as he reads the words on the page over and over until they blur in front of his eyes, becoming an unintelligible blur of black ink. At the same time, he feels his heart crack even more in his chest, knowing now what he must do.
How he must save her life. How he must destroy his own.
Curling himself over the paper, Adrien crumples it in his fist, and weeps .
***
How do you break the heart of the one person you love most in the world? How do you take the heart that they have entrusted to you—the beautiful, delicate thing you promised to treasure forever—and crush it in your hands?
***
For a moment—a brief flash of a second— when Marinette steps through the door, her face lighting up at the sight of him, Adrien almost believes that everything will be okay.
Almost.
Striding across the room to pull her into his arms, he almost convinces himself that there is no ulterior motive behind his actions. That he isn’t about to completely shatter any love, any trust that Marinette has in him in one fell swoop.
After all, what betrayal could be worse than this? It’s almost funny, in a tragic kind of way. How long had she held herself back, refusing to let him kiss her in fear of this very outcome?
As he draws her closer, lips moving languidly against hers and deepening the kiss; as he slides his hands into her hair, distracting her so that he can take the earrings, all he can think of is their first kiss. The heady feeling that had consumed him from the second her lips touched his, sending electricity through his veins. He had felt as though he was flying—Icarus soaring high above the sky—already in love though he hadn’t known it yet.
But Icarus had fallen, and now, kissing her for the final time, Adrien is in free fall, diving headfirst into the ocean and drowning, desperately committing Marinette’s kiss to memory as though it is the only thing that will keep him afloat.
Pulling away slightly, he can’t help but flinch when Marinette lifts a hand to his bruised cheek. He doesn’t deserve her concern. Not anymore.
The sickness that has been roiling in his gut for the past week intensifies as he curls his fingers into fists, feeling the stolen earrings cut into his palm. Marinette hasn’t noticed that they’re missing yet. That’s good; he wants to relish this last moment, right before everything goes to hell.
“Adrien? Are you alright?”
No.
The word sits on the tip of his tongue and he forces it down, avoiding Marinette’s gaze and tamping down the urge to kiss her again, to wrap his arms around her, bury his face into the crook of her neck and never let go. But he is acutely aware of Félix in the other room, listening to their every word, waiting for him to do the deed.
Swallowing hard, he steps out of her embrace, holding up his hand and hardening his voice. “I am now that I have these.”
And so begin the worst moments of his life.
***
He almost goes after her. Almost runs out the door to chase her down, to apologise, to explain everything and beg forgiveness, but Félix emerges from inside their bedroom before he can even rise up from the ground.
“Nicely done,” he drawls, his voice laced with amusement as he watches Adrien scramble to his feet. “But I have to ask...are those earrings what I think they are?” His voice is placid, almost disinterested, but Adrien sees the sharp gleam in his brother's eye and knows that lying would be useless. Jaw clenching, he nods shortly, blinking back tears as frustration wells up in his chest.
Was it really three months since he had first brought Marinette to this apartment? Only a week ago this place had been their safe haven, their own small spot of normalcy in this godforsaken city; the only thing left untainted by father, by their other lives. Now even that is gone, destroyed by his own hand, the secrets held within the walls escaping faster than autumn leaves flying in the wind.
He would willingly give up every secret that he has, but not Marinette’s. He has hurt her enough this day, doing all that he can to keep her from father’s grasp. He cannot— will not — let that be in vain.
“Don’t…” he pauses, “don’t tell him.” Hastily, he adds “please.”
Félix doesn’t have to ask who Adrien is referring to. Shaking his head, he sighs heavily, making his way to the door. “You never do things by halves, do you brother? Still, there’s no use in telling father and getting both of us in trouble. I’ll keep your little secret.”
Pausing in the doorway, Félix looks over his shoulder at Adrien, something like sympathy swimming in his eyes. “This really is for the best, you know,” he says “it never would have worked out anyway.”
Nodding silently, he follows his brother out of the apartment, but as he takes one last look at what was supposed to be a safe haven, Adrien wishes he could believe it.
***
Father is waiting for them when they get home, standing in the entryway expectantly.
“It’s done,” Adrien mutters roughly, pushing past father on his way to his room. He doesn’t get far before the Gorilla steps forward to block his way, stopping him in his tracks. Whirling back around, Adrien glares at father. “What now?”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Father sighs impatiently when he shakes his head, lips twisting in irritation. “The ring, Adrien.”
Instinctively—protectively— he hides his hand behind his back. “What? Why?”
“Don’t you remember? You said you would give Félix the ring.”
“That was...that was before . It was an offer you refused.” Adrien protests, his heartbeat thudding loudly in his ears. Father can’t...he can’t take this away from him too. In his pocket, Plagg bristles angrily as Adrien sputters, glancing between his father and brother incredulously.
Father’s expression remains unchanged and he holds out his hand expectantly. Félix, at least has the good grace to look ashamed.
“Fine!” Yanking his miraculous off his finger, Adrien throws it at father’s feet, turning on his heel and storming back out into the city.
***
He doesn’t go home for an entire week. Without his miraculous, he can no longer travel by rooftop and instead goes from bar to bar until they kick him out, sleeping in whichever back alley or hotel he can find.
And still, he cannot escape her.
Marinette is everywhere, reminders of her cutting through his drunkenness as easily as a knife through butter. A flash of red in the corner of his eye, the scent of perfume as someone passes him by—even the alcohol he drinks reminds him of her. Reminds him of lying tangled together in bed, sharing drinks and kisses without a care in the world.
He still has the chain his soulmate pendant came on. Every night before sleeping, he takes it out of his pocket, clutching it in his fist and holding it in front of bleary eyes, watching it glint in the dim light, reminding him of what he has lost.
***
It is an akuma attack that finally draws him out of hiding.
While everyone is running away from the fight, practically climbing over each other in their haste to get away, Adrien pushes against the crowd, forcing his way through until he can see what’s going on.
His eyebrows raise at the akuma father has chosen—the Mime-good at wreaking havoc, but easily defeated. A definite downgrade from the most recent akumas, but then he sees Félix beside the man, twirling his baton and scanning the sky for Ladybug and understands.
Félix has never been Chat Noir before.
He’s played into the mystery with Adrien, making sure that nobody could figure out which brother it was, but father had preferred to keep Félix away from the thick of battle. It’s safe to assume then, that the next few akuma’s will be fairly tame until his brother gets used to his new role.
A loud whirr breaks Adrien out of his thoughts and he looks up just in time to see Ladybug — Marinette —land across the street from the Mime. Ducking into the nearest alleyway, he can’t help but stare at her, his heart stuttering in his chest.
She stands tall, yo-yo in hand, lips pulled down in a frown. Even from a distance he can see that her skin is sallow, her eyes clouded as she dodges the Mime’s attacks, taking in the destruction that has been wrought.
She actively avoids looking at Chat Noir-not that Adrien can blame her-but then Félix is right in front of her and he sees her eyes widen, sees her hesitate for a split second before sending him flying across the street.
Adrien can’t bear to watch any longer. Slipping away, he wanders aimlessly, barely paying attention to where he’s going. It isn’t until the miracle cure washes over the city that he realises where he is.
Of course.
Making his way slowly up the stairs to their apartment, he wonders what Marinette is doing now. Was she injured during the battle? Does she have new scars? Scars he will never know about? Will she go back home and bandage herself, cursing him all the while? There was a time when he prided himself on knowing every single scar on her body, every mole and freckle.
Not anymore.
No, those new scars belong to Marinette, and Marinette alone. He no longer has the privilege of holding that knowledge.
The thought hurts, more than he thought possible.
For a long moment, Adrien stands in the open doorway, unable to enter. His eyes rove across the space, searching for Marinette, half hoping that she will emerge from the bedroom, the bathroom, anywhere , shoot him a dazzling smile and tell him to hurry up and close the door behind him.
The image of it is so vivid that he startles himself when he speaks. “I love you,” Adrien croaks, blinking as his voice echoes in the empty apartment, breaking the illusion and leaving him in darkness once more.
Marinette had been right after all. It wouldn’t always get him out of trouble.
***
Everything seems to move in slow motion, his vision narrowing in on the honing steel hurtling straight towards Marinette. There is no escaping it—the Butcher’s aim is deadly, his projectile moving too fast to do anything but strike—and Marinette knows it too, from the way her eyes widen and then close, resignation lining her features even as she ducks down to try and avoid the blow.
It takes Adrien a split second to realise what he must do. He cannot grab hold of it and stop it in midair. He won’t be able to push Marinette out of the way in time either. But his baton is sturdy and familiar in his hands as he crosses the square in a single jump, power and adrenaline thrumming through his veins, only one thought running through his mind:
Save her.
His feet have barely touched the ground when it hits him.
The honing steel goes straight through his abdomen, knocking all the breath out of him in one go. It’s being punched in the gut a thousand times coupled with a blazing heat that begins in his stomach and spreads outwards until he can’t grit his teeth against the pain anymore, a guttural yell escaping his lips as his legs crumple beneath him.
And then—
Hands are reaching for him, grabbing hold of his shoulders and lowering him gently to the ground. For a moment, as his eyes meet Marinette’s panicked ones, his pain is forgotten, replaced with exultation. I did it , he thinks, relief sweeping through him, I saved her I stopped it I —
I am dying, he realises with sudden clarity, agony lancing through him, his vision turning white. I am dying, he thinks, feeling blood splatter on his chin as he coughs, and then: I cannot leave this world without telling the truth.
Blinking slowly, Adrien forces himself to concentrate, letting his vision clear. Above him, Marinette is babbling, almost sobbing, her hands fluttering uselessly over his body, looking for a place to rest without hurting him.
“Sorry...I’m so sorry,” he struggles with the words “I had to protect you. From my father. I had to-I had—”
Marinette tries to shush him but he shakes his head stubbornly, wincing when the movement makes him dizzy. She has to— he has to make sure she knows-
Slowly, carefully, Adrien reaches for her hand, clasping it in his own as he moves it to his chest, laying her palm flat over his heart.
“I love you. I always have. I didn’t say it enough,” Not nearly enough. Not enough to last a lifetime. He wants to say it over and over, to make up for all of the days that he has not been able to say it to her, but there is a fear niggling at him and he can’t help but ask: “You do believe me?”
In a flash, Marinette drops her transformation, and then she’s leaning over him, saying something though he can’t hear it through his own laboured breathing echoing loudly in his ears. Swallowing roughly, Adrien tries to concentrate, staring up at Marinette as she scrabbles at her neck with bloodstained hands, pulling something out from underneath her dress and holding it up so he can see.
The ring.
Adrien exhales softly at the sight. The gemstone is dim, no longer glittering like it did when he first gave it to her, when it perfectly matched the sparkling joy in her eyes, but he doesn’t care. She kept it. “I’m...I’m glad. Keep it for me, won’t you?”
Marinette’s face crumples suddenly, tears slipping down her cheeks and she covers her mouth, stifling her sobs.
“Hey...hey- come here doll.” She sobs even harder at the nickname, letting him cup her face and bring her closer. Her face is streaked with tears, her cheeks red and lashes wet, but Adrien cannot look away, even for a second. These are his last moments, and he will not waste them on anything else.
Nothing is more important.
She stares at him just as intently, eyes roving over his face, and then almost seeming to read his mind she—
She kisses him.
It is quick, just a simple peck, but Adrien cannot help but slip his fingers into her hair, holding her close to kiss her properly, lips moving against hers, desperate to give her something to remember him by. He says as much, afterwards, and she laughs through her tears, closing her eyes as he wipes them away, stroking her cheek gently with his thumb.
“No more tears, okay?” His voice is beginning to fail him, the words coming out in a whisper “no more tears.” Despite his words, he feels his own tears slipping from his eyes and blinks them away, feeling them roll down his temple, dampening his hair.
He knows that Marinette is strong, but he also knows that she loves , so intensely, her heart burning so brightly for him that he knows it will hurt that much more.
She will survive this. Of that he has no doubt. But it will be difficult. So, so, difficult.
Be brave, he wants to say now, but his strength is gone, the words faltering, unable to come out. Be brave, my love.
Carefully, so as not to jostle his injury, Adrien maneuvers himself so that Marinette can settle against him, resting her head on his chest. The position is a familiar one, and as his eyes flutter closed, he lets himself imagine they are still on the beach, that he can still feel the sand between his toes, the wind ruffling through his hair.
Marinette's head is a warm weight on his chest, and as his transformation drops, as Plagg nestles in his hair, and his breathing begins to slow, Adrien wonders if maybe…
Maybe these last few weeks have been nothing but a terrible nightmare, dreamt while lying safe on the beach. It's far fetched, but already he can hear the seagulls flying overhead, their noise cutting through his dream.
He will wake soon, he’s sure of it. He will wake, and then he will kiss Marinette again and again, and say I love you with every breath, making sure she will never doubt his sincerity.
Because those S8 pictures are giving me heart palpitations, now is a good time to remind y’all that I have a GoT sideblog ( @winterfellslady ) and dabble in Jonerys fic so here’s the links in case that’s your jam:
bright horizons {canon post-war au}
to whatever end {throne of glass au}
what wicked games {fae au WIP, ft. Fae Queens and the Wild Hunt}
