sd1970x

[sd1970x]

Marinette, work in progress - Ch4 - BlueCollar

Read also on AO3: here first chapter | previous chapter | next chapter

Marinette took the short path home as she hopped, still transformed, towards her balcony. No sooner than reaching her room, she thrust herself into her bed and her face into her pillow.

“Spots off.”

The suit dissolved and Tikki emerged, hovering about. She was quick to pick up on Marinette’s distress.

“Marinette, is everything okay?”

Marinette turned her head towards Tikki, peeking just a tad out.

"No.” She tersely replied, then turned away again. “I’m not fit to be a superheroine.”

“What? Why would you say that?” Tikki shuddered.

“Why? because I’m not even a real girl and I nearly failed because of that!”

Tikki just stared back, wordlessly.Marinette slowly rose up and sat upright at her bed.

“If being a girl is so much better for me… why wasn’t I just born one? Maybe I should just accept my fate. I can’t win this one.”

Marinette tried to look away as Tikki hovered in front of her, denying her the option to end the conversation just yet.

“Maybe fate has crossed your path with the miraculous because of that? Because your burning desire to be a girl means something?”

Marinette looked back, contemplating Tikki’s words.

“All it means is that I’m a wannabe and that I’ll end up embarrassing everyone who believes in me. Like Alya and Mylene.”

Marinette recalled the conversation back at school lunch. Alya and Mylene sure seemed to think very highly of her.

“They sure don’t seem to think that way, and they should know a thing or two about girl power.”

That much was true, even Marinette had to admit it.

I don’t know Alya and Mylene that much and yet they’ve both already managed to impress me, Alya for standing up to Chloe and Mylene for standing up for what counts in this city. Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to brush off their instincts, and take their trust as affirmation.

“What is it that makes you think you’re a boy, Marinette?”

Marinette’s mind screeched to a halt.

I might not be a true-born girl… but I’m not a boy either. What the hell am I, again?

“I… I don’t know anymore.” she whispered and Tikki smiled.

Marinette flared up her computer and started looking at some of her designs. She followed by reading some of her hidden computer diary entries.

The more she looked at her designs, the more she read into her diary entries, the muddier the answer in her mind became.

Maybe these tell the story of what I am better than everything else? What is it that makes a design “a girl’s design”? Or a story “a boy’s story”?

Before she noticed it, it was time for dinner, followed by shower and bedtime.

---

It was the last thing Marinette thought would happen to her. Chloe was the first to point at her and explode into mocking laughter, interrupting the morning’s lesson.

“Look at Marin! What’s Gay-boy doing with pink trousers in class?”

Instinctively she tried to cup her breasts, but they weren’t there anymore.

Oh no… the magic… it… dissipated? But… how? Why?

Soon enough, most of the class burst into laughter. She braved a look at herself and her heart sank.

She was back in her boy-suit, the one she thought she had discarded already. The sensation of body hair that she did not miss, back to haunt her.

Everyone laughed at her. Even her teacher! Caline bustier, otherwise a fair and decent teacher, joining up with class, pointing at her.

No. No no no. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening!

She tried to scream, but only muffled sounds came about. She tried to run away, but she felt like her muscles betrayed her. The sounds of laughter echoed around her, piercing her soul.

“Gay-Boy! Gay-Boy in pink!”

She decided she must gather her energy and leave class, but felt herself jerked upwards instead.

Into a seating position, in her bed, covered in cold sweat and panting heavily.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Tikki flew by, worried.

“It was a nightmare.” she blurted out.

A most vivid one, that’s bound to come to life as soon as the magic dissipates.

Marinette woke up early that day, still exhausted from the night. The sight of herself in the mirror did quite a bit to cheer her up.

It’s not a dream after all. Maybe if I hold onto it, it won’t slip from my grip.

She combed and tied her hair neatly, brushed her teeth and went downstairs to have her breakfast.

“At least you won’t be late today, honey.” Her mom smiled at her.

Having a properly-paced, non-rushed breakfast also proved helpful for her mood. She walked towards school, hoping that the new day would bring relief from yesterday’s battle and that awful night.

---

Mylene was one of the first to enter class, picking up the aptitude test results from the teacher’s desk.

While she feared many things, math wasn’t one of them. The good grades were sure to make her parents happy and perhaps more lenient in letting her go out on more activities like she had wanted.

Then again, someone next to her was clearly unhappy about their test results.

Ivan seemed to be very happy to see her come over, but immediately switched his looks back to his test results and gloominess was quick to take hold.

“What’s the matter, Ivan?”

Ivan paused before spitting it out.

“I… barely passed it. I was this close to flunking it. I’m no good at maths.”

Chloe kept filing her nails as she overheard their conversation.

“Oh, don’t you worry about it, there would still be plenty of higher education options available for people like you.” she commented.

Ivan looked at her, dumbfounded, while Mylene eyed Chloe suspiciously.

What’s she planning? Is it a rare moment of kindness, or a ploy to make things worse?

“ Ecole-de-imbecile , of course. You’ll eke out a meager living hauling boxes for people like me who will run daddy’s hotel.”

And to think I believed it could be the first for even a split of a second.

Ivan grit his teeth and looked like he was about to respond, then looked at his test results again.

“... Up until you become totally useless, at which point you’ll probably find yourself homeless in the streets, your wife dumping you, if you ever had one in the first place. Guess that’s too bad.”

“Chloe, you’re the meanest! Ivan is-” Mylene tried to protest but Chloe was quick to shut her down.

“-a loser, and the world doesn’t need losers in it. Sorry, that’s just how it is.”

Ivan clenched his fist and ran off to the locker room. Mylene looked at Chloe accusingly for a brief moment, only to refocus her attention on following up on Ivan.

---

Light intruded upon Hawk Moth’s domain as his senses picked up on a victim of choice.

“Fear of the future. Fear of who you may become. Uncertainty. Go forth, my precious akuma, let his self-doubt seal the fate for Ladybug and Chat Noir!”

---

Marinette was walking through the corridor, looking at her aptitude test report card, when Ivan nearly bumped into her. She dodged it at the last moment and was quite surprised when Ivan said nothing.

He is usually very nice and polite, despite his brutish looks. That’s not like him not to apologize.

Something must have happened. This doesn’t look good.

Before she had much time to dwell on it, Mylene came about, looking around.

“Marinette, have you seen Ivan?”

“Yeah, he went that way.” She said as she pointed out the direction. “Has anything happened?”

“I’m tempted to just say ‘Chloe happened’”, Mylene replied, “but she’s outdone even herself.

She told Ivan his test results set him for a life of failure.”

“How mean!”

Mylene nodded.

“He deserves so much better than that.”

With that, she rushed forwards to search for Ivan, leaving Marinette behind with more than one thing to think about.

Does this one test really set up our fate for the future?

Of course not! I mean, I’m sure Ivan can change it!

Are we the masters of our own fate, or has it been written for us?

Then again…

She looked at her hands and imaginary boy hands were superimposed on them.

Is my fate in my own hands?

---

The butterfly easily homed on the sobbing student in the locker room, landing on a decorative pin he was wearing.

“ BlueCollar , I am Hawk Moth. Your fate has been rewritten, your destiny now changed. You shall lead a revolution.”

---

Marinette was just leaving class as a confrontation outside on the street drew her attention. It was Chloe and her dad, the mayor, arguing with a figure that seemed like a large and sturdy construction worker.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your job?” Chloe yelled at the figure. “Daddy, tell him!”

“How insolent. I don’t report to you. I’m BlueCollar and I report to Hawk Moth.”

Chloe and the mayor shuddered at these words and tried to back away slowly, but BlueCollar wouldn’t stop.

“Maybe you two will finally do something useful for the people of Paris!” BlueCollar went on and a blue streak of energy engulfed the two of them.

Chloe found herself donning a sanitation worker’s uniform and holding a broom. In a moment, magical compulsion forced her to start cleaning the street, much to BlueCollar’s satisfaction.

Marinette was quick to hide in a nearby alley.

“We’re needed. Time to transform! Tikki, spots on!”

Marinette emerged from the alley, with Chat Noir arriving at the scene at the exact same time.

“Please, Ladybug, Chat Noir, save us from this fate!” Chloe managed to say before BlueCollar’s magical compulsion forced her to tend to her work again.

Marinette barely managed to stifle her giggle.

Isn’t that some poetic justice out there. A taste of your own medicine, Chloe. Maybe a few hours of work would do you good.

Marinette and Chat Noir both hopped on to a higher ground to make plans. Then again, one of them had plans the other probably did not think of.

“So. BlueCollar’s power is making people work for him. We must avoid his strike at all costs.” Marinette remarked.

“We have more than enough work without his powers employing us. But would you like to go for coffee once our work is done?”

Marinette froze in place as she tried to digest his words.

“Huh? Are you… asking me out?”

He flashed a grin.

“Well, all work and no play is a major hassle. I’m a playful cat, try me”

He can’t be serious. My god, what’s wrong with him?

“A playful cat.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And your game is... prowling about, hunting down a superheroine for a superhero.”

“Yep.”

“Swooping someone, from partner to lover. Oh, such brag rights! A game with a prize!”

“I don’t see why not. If you’re into it...” he smiled.

My god. He really knows no limit.

Marinette poked him in his chest.

“Do I look like I’m some prize to be won, partner?”

His smile faded in an instant.

“We save Paris together. Save your romantic aspirations for someone else.”

She then pointed his head towards BlueCollar as he went towards the city hall. “Does this look like a game to you? No? Then this should be your focus.”

Both Marinette and Chat Noir darted down to confront BlueCollar, avoiding his zaps successfully but making little headway.

Chat Noir managed to strike him with his baton, only to feel the recoil as he proved far too sturdy to be impacted. Marinette fared pretty much the same, as he simply flung her away with her own yo-yo.

Making things worse, they were quickly approached by a league of BlueCollar’s supporting workers, armed with whatever they were using for their jobs.

“Looks like we need some pest control.” One of them remarked as he eyed Marinette.

“And a feral cat problem to handle.” another added, looking at Chat Noir.

“Hate to disappoint. I’m fully domesticated. Cataclysm!” Chat Noir called it as he touched the ground, creating a chasm and allowing both Marinette and him to escape to safety.

“Well, we don’t have much time, do we?” Chat remarked and Marinette nodded in agreement.

“It’s time for my thing, then. Lucky charm!” she called it, cupping her hands to grab a falling...

״Miner’s helmet? What am I going to do with that?״

She briefly flicked its headlight on, then flicked it off.

“Okay, Chat, here’s the plan…”

---

BlueCollar kept roaming the streets, until something caught his eye. It was an open manhole in the middle of the road, with an electricity cable running into it.

Clearly, someone was doing maintenance work in a negligent and extremely unsafe manner. No markings whatsoever, no signs to ward off pedestrians and no one to call should help be required.

As BlueCollar approached the manhole, Chat Noir jumped downwards from a nearby building and landed forcefully on his back. BlueCollar fell forwards and upside down, finding himself jammed into the hole, unable to move.

The hole was dark as night, although in a moment he was blinded by what seemed to be a flashlight. A short while afterwards, he managed to see it for what it was - Ladybug wearing a miner’s helmet.

“This site does employ some workplace safety” she commented as she walked slowly towards him. He could only watch as she removed his collar and broke it in two, releasing the akuma.

“No more evildoing for you, little akuma. Time to de-evilize!” she called it, as she whipped her yo-yo and whisked it away.

“Miraculous… Ladybug!”

As she flung the helmet upwards, it burst into a stream of Ladybugs, releasing all those bound to work by BlueCollar’s powers, including Chloe and her father.

---

“Pound it!” Ladybug offered her hand for a fistbump, and Adrien’s was quick to respond in like.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” he offered cautiously.

“It was a close call” she replied, her face showing little emotion, but she quickly softened. “But you do make a great partner. Respect my limits and it will stay that way.”

She followed by a short-lived smile, then hopped away and disappeared.

Adrien’s eyes followed her wake until she was gone from his sight. He breathed in relief, then sighed.

“I guess it’s just partners then. Even if I…”

Even if I want it to be more than that.

I’ve met the girl of my dreams… and I nearly ruined everything.

Is there any way I can get her to see me as more than that? Or are we fated to remain no more than partners?

---

A now de-akumatized Ivan made his way back to class, where Mylene was quick to warmly greet him.

“I’m sorry, Ivan. It’s just one test! And if you want, I’d love to help you with maths.”

“You would? That’s… that’s so wonderful!” Ivan beamed at her words, his joy clear to everyone around. Yet Mylene had more to say.

“But for your own good, you really shouldn’t let Chloe get to you! You’re the kindest person I know and that’s worth so much more.”

“I usually don’t… it’s just that… well…”

Ivan was blushing furiously now as he picked his words.

“I had plans to confess to a girl today and then Chloe just sapped all my confidence.”

“Oh? Who would that be? I-If you don’t mind me asking...”

There was a short pause before Ivan managed to say it.

“It’s you.”

“I was hoping you would say that.” She replied, a wide grin to her face. A moment later, she hugged him tight and his blush deepened by two shades.

“Aww, these two are meant to be together!” Rose said as she dug herself into Juleka’s arm.

---

Marinette smiled as Ivan and Mylene hugged each other, some of their elation sweeping her as well.

Maybe some of our fate lies in the hands of others who love us, that’s not so bad too now is it?

What does fate have in for me?

I seriously hope it’s more of an ‘Adrien’ direction than a ‘Chat Noir’ one!

Chat’s a good partner… and that’s where the line gets drawn.

But Adrien… He’s something special. I got to see a glimpse of a soul so pure.

It’s time for me to take fate into my own hands, and I will.

A girl’s fate.

[sd1970x]

unfortunately, the delicatessen shop which gave me permission to use their photos in my fic have succumbed to COVID-19 :(

[sd1970x]

"Marinette is a kind, smart and brave girl. She's got everything you'll never have and she's everything you'll never be, Chloe."

I don't like the overarching fanout of this game, so a handful of tags from me.

@galahadwilder @alexseanchai @quantumchickpea @emblian @lenoreofraven

Writing Ask Game

Tagged by @mdelpin (this was awhile ago, I’m sorry i took so long to respond!)

Rules: Post the last sentence you wrote from any current WIP. Tag the number of people equivalent to the word count.

–

Natsu squeaked, “- Yes ma’am!”

Tagging: @doginshoe @petri808 @phoneboxfairy @celestialtitania

[sd1970x]

#NudesOfTheSoul, cont’d

If I can’t or shouldn’t tweet nudes, perhaps I better tweet nudes of the soul. Part 2.

I can't dance to the beat. I once thought it was a matter of being an over-control-freak. Now I can safely say that this too is fear of rejection. Maybe one day I will finally be able to dance like no one’s watching.

Someone smart who knows me really well told me at the beginning of the process that she was certain I was wrong and that there was nothing feminine about me. Paradoxically, I see it as something very positive. That means I'm adaptable. Symbiotic. And if I managed to adapt to what I am not… I will certainly be able to adapt to what I really am. And yet it feels so hard.

Our past is an integral part of us, an element in who we are, like a garment we wear every day everywhere with us. But being who and what I am, I spend a lot of time thinking about my past gets reinterpreted and how it could have bneen different. So what do I do with this garment? should I take it off? put it on? patch it? cut and sew it? paint it? throw it in the trash and start over? I stand in front of the mirror, unable to proceed. Feeling incomplete with it and feeling incomplete without it.

Even if she does get to live her life as a woman, deep inside there will always be a little girl who’s sure she needs a hug.

I thought I should be cautious of the distant past, that it may rekindle pains that have already been forgotten. But yesterday I found some family photo albums of our family and the kids growing up. Like a punch to the stomach.

How simple these words are. 'I'm not a man and I’ve never really been one. I want you to know a more real and authentic version of me now. ' How these simple words change so much. How these simple words are so difficult to say. How these simple words are so difficult to accept.

“And if I were to tell you that you would never have such a relationship again, would you still choose to transition?" silence. soft crying.

This desire to be accepted, to be like everyone else - is a dangerous temptation. It may make you do things you never thought you would do. Or, in this case, say things that had better not be said. Being unable to keep your secrets is also a form of nudity.

Maybe if I take a little bit from each of you A minuscule amount, such that no one would notice it’s missing An occasional smile, an emotional moment, a fleeting feeling Maybe i’ll gather enough to feel this magic is mine as well For me to feel it too. . Probably not.

[sd1970x]

#NudesOfTheSoul

So, I recently had the insight that if it’s pointless for me to tweet nudes of the body, I’ll tweet nudes of the soul. Here are some of my preferred ones, translated:

1. I barely remember anything of my childhood, as if it was all erased.Apparently, whether I like it or not, I have experienced a trans rebirth.

2. As the intensity of my emotions increases, so do the tools I had to deal with them slowly lose their relevancy, as they were essentially masculine. I feel this wave coming and I’m not sure I’m ready for it.

3. Even in my early childhood dreams, when I became a woman I would become a flawed copy of one. Never an equal.

4. I have a designated place in this world - a techie and a man. Every attempt to escape it bears a price. There are gaps that I will never be able fill and there are fights that I must not fight.

5. Sometimes, wearing a garment and standing in front of a mirror leaves you as naked as possible. Proverbially naked from all the defenses you have acquired over the years, layer after layer, afraid of yourself, realizing that something in the figure you see is really you

6. The ease with which you can be a woman online is also a double-edged sword. As if I'm only able to play a woman but not really be one. A keyboard heroine who turns back into a man when the clock strikes 12, or at most a clumsy and awkward woman nothing like the one who exists online.

7. I had planned to write something completely different, but a few things reminded me that transphobia hasn’t gone anywhere. On Twitter, dating sites, literature ...So, I may walk around dressed, but without your support I will be the target of jokes, contempt, prejudice, discrimination and hatred for the sake of it. Defenseless, as naked as the day I was born.

Dress me up.

8. The few feminine experiences I could experience during the COVID-19 period made me very happy, but also confronted me with the life I could have had in other circumstances.

Rationally? I'm guilty of nothing.

Does that keep me from blaming myself? No.

“How did I not get it earlier. Why did I do this to myself. How could I have been so blind. Why did I not listen to myself?"

[sd1970x]

On being a trans fanfic writer

(I would appreciate a signal boost on this) As a fanfic writer, one of the things I get to hear a lot is “you have to write for yourself and if people like it, all for the better.”I hate to say it, but it’s simply wrong because it assumes something which is patently wrong for non-cis people - that we’re not deprived of social acceptance as is.

You see, my day-to-day is an endless fight over my gender identity. Even the people who do respect my pronouns, have a hard time really treating me as a woman. Try as they might (and they do), it’s not easy for them and that’s fine.

But for me, one of the few places I’m liberated from this, is my online writing. In fact, fanfiction writing is generally feminine coded and putting out a successful piece makes me feel a part of that. Makes me feel more feminine. Makes me feel validated about my ability to express and communicate my feelings, an ability I very much consider myself lacking due to my socialization which prioritized other things.

But that’s just surface-scratching it.

I got to put my deepest wishes and desires into writing. I did it subconsciously too. People who may not even know me, run into my stories. Run into my OC, which is almost a self-insert as she packs so much of me into her. They run into my rendition of a certain main character as trans, which packs many of my own personal experiences. I cannot detach my personal attachment to these works. I couldn’t do it even when I was in egg-mode either, and I blamed myself for it too. My line of thought was “Why do you, a cishet guy, have any expectation that anybody owes you anything, much less readership?”

But that didn’t alleviate the feeling in any way. Nothing could get it to subside and it retrospect it’s clear why. When they reject those stories, when they reject my OC offhand as “Not part of the fandom”, it’s a reminder of where I belong and where I don’t belong. As if it’s my fault that none of the cast (as diverse is it may be) can be used to tell my story. It’s my story that they don’t want to hear about.

Then again, it still holds true. Nobody owes any author anything.

Up until they start proclaiming support for trans authors and for diversity, because then we’re talking hypocrisy. People who like pro-trans posts and throw their kudos over easy-to-understand-and-digest trans works. People who would encourage you a thousand times but never read you work.

No.

You’re pigeon-holing trans people into cis narratives. The trans experience can be very deep and if all you’re accepting is your convenience zone, we’ll never have real diversity. Real diversity means complex and challenging narratives, ones that require you to get out of your comfort zone. Few people like to do that with their spare time for a recreational activity, I get it, but nobody said diversity was easy. It sure heck isn’t easy putting myself out there for judgement - and getting heartbroken time and time again. Not unlike the hurt of being estranged from cis society, because it is exactly that, in a way.

It was hard to write, it may not be easy to read, but if you really do want trans authors to keep on, reading and commenting is inevitable and saying “someone else will do this” is a sure way of getting it wrong.

[sd1970x]

dysphoria is a very common hallmark of transness, sure, but gender euphoria is an almost completely universal and therefore much more reliable signifier and frankly i think we should say ‘if the idea of being a different gender than the one you were born assigned as makes you feel happy/better about yourself you’re trans’ instead of telling people ‘the way you know you’re trans is if your body feels like a prison and your genitals make you hate yourself’

[sd1970x]

Marinette, work in progress - Ch3 - reflektor

Read also on AO3: here first chapter | previous chapter | next chapter

Marinette woke up, still unable to contain her excitement from yesterday.

“Hello, world! Hello, pretty room! And good morning to you too, Tikki!”

Tikki smiled at the sight of her holder’s enthusiasm.

“You better calm down… as far as anyone’s concerned, this is just another typical day for you!”

Those words did very little to dial down her growing enthusiasm. She first headed for her closet and adored her selection of pants and shirts, opting for a pair of pink jeans and a white t-shirt with a flower design. A dark grey blazer seemed to call out to her and she quickly added it to her ensemble.

She looked in the mirror, finding a face full of happiness looking back at her.

It looks so much better. As if that’s how it should have always been.

She quickly fixed her hair into her twin pigtails, flicking one gently and watching it bob about a bit. 

Yes, yes and yes again.

The stairway creaked just a bit as she went downstairs to the kitchen where her parents were already toiling about.

“You don’t want to be running late today, remember the photoshoots!” her mom remarked as she poured her a glass of juice.

Right! I almost forgot about that!

“Thanks mom, I won’t!” Marinette hugged her, then quickly sipped off the juice and took a bite off her sandwich. 

A quick hug given to her dad too and she was off to school, humming a happy tune to herself.

  As she approached the school staircase, she spotted two familiar figures. It was her friend, Nino, casually talking to-

Adrien!

Her heart started beating rapidly, faster and faster.

He’s… I am… I can… I…

Something about her brain refused to function normally, as did the rest of her body. She could have sworn her feet failed her as she tried to approach him and her hands started shaking. Why was Adrien surrounded by a glowing halo?

“Hi, A-adri… Adri…”

And to top it all off, lack of speech capabilities just piled on to the growing list of things breaking down.

“Hi there, Marinette!” he smiled. “What are you up to today?”

“Huh? Oh! Umm… hey… uhh… up… stairs! I’ll… just go to class.”

Marinette quickly climbed up the stairs, looking towards Adrien all the while, as she crashed into another person and was about to lose her balance, just as two hands grabbed her.

“Girl, you had better mind your step!” Alya chided her, though quickly sported a wide grin.

“Well, somebody has a hard time keeping cool next to Adrien, doesn’t she?”

Marinette was quick to turn her face away and downwards, embarrassed. 

“Come on, let’s go to class.”

Marinette finally allowed herself a chuckle and Alya quickly followed through, as they both went to their classroom.

The two sat by their table and considered the schedule for the day.

“Well, it isn’t a new year if we don’t have the customary class photoshoot!” Marinette exclaimed, excited for the event this once.

“And the aptitude tests…” Alya added, reminding her of some of the downsides of a new year.

“Oh right, it’s about to start any moment now!”

  All students quickly sat down and arranged their desks for the aptitude tests. Their knowledge of math and English was to be tested in order to determine and assign them to per-skill teaching groups. Marinette knew she was a good student and her overall euphoria helped boost her self confidence as she started taking the test. She handed in her answer sheet and went outside, enjoying a bit of sun as she watched the photographer arrange the photoshoot set. Soon, a trickle of students came over and joined her as more and more of them finished it as well.

  Hey, I know this guy! It’s Vincent, the fashion photographer! Looks like they aimed high this year.

“Are we ready yet?” Vincent called anxiously, “I have many more classes to shoot!”

“Yeah, everyone’s here, let’s get started!” Chloe added, her impatience mirroring his. 

“Please sort into groups first, all the girls on the left side, all the boys on the right. Then I can start choosing your rows.”

Marinette almost went for the right, as she quickly realized her mistake and corrected it, bringing with it a touch of happiness to her.

I am on the right side now. I mean left. Which is right.

“Seems like we have a prankster. Do you think it’s funny to waste my time like that?” Vincent called out, exasperated.

Who’s he talking to? Well glad it’s not me. 

“Yeah, red-head girl. I am asking you, do you think my time is worthless? Why are you on the boys’ side?”

Oh my god. He’s talking to Nathaniel!

Before anyone could say a word, Chloe burst into utter laughter.

“Of course Nathaniel is a girl, it’s about time he admitted that.”

Marinette considered protesting, but a stream of thoughts held her back for a moment.

Well… if I didn’t look the way I did, I think I would have liked to look like him. It really is a lot more aesthetic then…

Oh, what am I even thinking? That is so unfair! People should not be shamed for their style or looks!

Marinette winced as she recalled moments of her own past, being laughed at for her style choices and fighting her own insecurities about how she used to look.

By the time she recovered and was ready to protest it, she was preempted by Juleka protesting.

“People have every right to-”

“-Make idiots of themselves,” Chloe continued her sentence for her, very much in a way she hasn’t intended to, “and it’s our social obligation to mock them for it.”

That was apparently too much for Nathaniel to bear, as he ran off back towards the school, sobbing.

While the rest of the class except for Chloe were quite glum about it, there was little they could do in delaying the photoshoot. They all complied with Vincent’s instructions and the photoshoot was done.

  ---

  Light shone on Hawk Moth’s lair as its window expanded, triggering a fluttering of the numerous butterflies present. An almost inaudible flap, like bristling of leaves, mixed with the sound of shoe soles pacing against a concrete floor.

“Ah, yes. How terrible it must feel, to be shamed for your aesthetic choices and personal preferences. Come here my little butterfly, let’s put this shame into some good use.”

He infused the butterfly with dark energy and watched it flap its wings as it took towards the Françoise Dupont high school.

  ---

  At last, lunch break was coming,  a much welcome break after the aptitude tests and the photoshoot.

Marinette took little time in deliberating among the choice of school food, as none of it was particularly palatable anyway. She settled on meatballs for the main course and boiled green peas for a side dish and went to sit by herself at one of the food court tables. She took a few bland bites and comforted herself by thinking of the tasty cookie she had in her bag.

The perks of being a baker’s daughter.

“Hey, Marinette, what are you doing there all alone?” Alya called over to her, waving from a nearby table.

Oh… well, I guess I’m no longer eating by myself now. Another most welcome change.

Marinette quickly picked up her food tray and brought it over, sitting next to Alya and in front of Mylene, smiling.

“That’s our table after all.” Mylene grinned.

“One violation of girl code for the day,” Alya noted.

“Are you serious?” Marinette looked at her fearfully, the smile fading off her face.

“Relax, girl. I was joking!” Alya tried to calm her down and Marinette took a deep breath.

Lucky she has no idea why I got freaked about this. At least I can now enjoy a quiet mea-

“Chloe was horrible today!” Mylene ranted. “We have to do something about her!”

“Is there anything we can do?” Marinette asked, and they all deflated, acknowledging the power Chloe had over the school via her dad.

“If only we had Ladybug with us! Have you seen this new superheroine? She is amazing!” Alya swooned. “She could easily deal with Chloe.”

“This city needs a champion of justice!” Mylene wholeheartedly agreed.

“And a girl power icon, too!” Alya added, a gleam in her eye.

If she could still hold the other compliments, the last one was too much for Marinette. She immediately found herself nearly choking on one of her peas.

“Are you okay, girl?”

Luckily, she managed to cough it out without much trouble.

“Yeah, it was just… hard to swallow that’s all.”

And I didn’t mean the food!

Yesterday I would have laughed off the thought I could ever be a girl, and now I’m supposed to set an example?!

And stand up to Chloe?

Talk about pressure!

Alya practically shoved her phone into Marinette’s hands as it played an amateur video of her performance in defeating stoneheart, dashing in between the giants then hopping above them.

“Now tell me that ain’t impressive.”

I wish I could, actually, but...

“I’m starting a blog dedicated to her, I’m going to call it the ‘Ladyblog’...”

Marinette’s internal temperature rose up a few degrees.

“... and I’m going to find out her secret identity!”

Oh no.

“Are you with me on that, girls?”

“Yeah!” Mylene said.

Marinette nodded, trying to deliver her best impression of being into it and they all bumped fists.

  ---

  Nathaniel sought refuge in the art room, his favorite getaway. Here he could be alone to recover from the incident. His hand reached for his pencils and paper and he started doodling about. Soon enough he realized what’s the thing he was sketching - a self portrait.

It does look a bit girly, doesn’t it?

He crumpled the paper in anger as silent tears ran down his face. He paid very little heed to a certain black and purple butterfly that hovered about, then settled onto his paper. Then again, the pair of silvery eyes peering into his soul was something he could not ignore so easily.

  “Reflektor, I am Hawk Moth.” The man now linked to his mind spoke. “How would one tell a book by its cover, if all books were to look the exact same?”

“ Oh yes , Hawk Moth. Grant me your power!”

“In return, you must find me the cat and ladybug miraculouses!”

“It’s a deal.”

  ---

  Marinette, Alya and Mylene picked up their food trays and were about to place them at the collection receptacles, as someone stormed into the lunch area.

He looked somewhat recognizable, but something about him was vastly changed now. All suited up in black and clad with black sunglasses, it barely registered with her why she knew him.

“So how would you like a taste of being a boy, Marinette?” he called over to her and she recognized the voice.

“Nathaniel?”

“It’s Reflektor now.” He corrected her, as a magical ray shot came out of his ring, zapping her. In a moment, she looked exactly like him. Another two ray shots turned Alya and Mylene to copies of Reflektor as well.

“No, this isn’t good!” she cried.

“Let’s hope Ladybug comes over quickly and saves us.” Alya responded.

She’s right, I can’t let them down!

Marinette rushed outside the lunch zone, carelessly bumping into someone along the way, another victim of Reflektor.

“Hey, you idiot boy, watch where you’re going!”

“Chloe?”

Something about the speaker’s tone and mannerisms made her quite certain of her identification.

“Obviously. And I guess you’re that loser Max, am I right?”

Marinette paid no heed to her as she rushed forward to find a place to transform, but an errant thought stuck to her.

Boy. She called me a boy. Is it just this suit and appearance?

Or maybe… maybe without my magic, everyone sees right through me?

After all, I did know immediately she was Chloe. Something about her radiated it.

She brushed those thoughts away.

No time for this now, I must find a place and transform. My friends and everyone in school are counting on me!

  ---

  After a few minutes of frantic searching, Marinette finally found a hidden spot she was comfortable with.

“Tikki, spo-”

“Wait, Marinette! There���s something I have to tell you!” Tikki managed to stop her in time. 

“What is it, Tikki?”

Tikki fidgeted a bit with her hands.

“Since Reflektor transformed you, in order to undo this, I will have to use my maximal power.”

I don’t like the sound of that, at all.

“Be careful, Marinette. If you are defeated or detransform at this form, you will be exposed as a boy.”

I don’t have much of a choice though, do I?

“It’s a risk we’ll have to take. Tikki, spots on!”

  ----

  Marinette ran through the corridors looking for Reflektor, to no avail. All she found were students and teachers who have already been turned. It was time to hit the courtyard, where she’d be more vulnerable. She moved from one cover to another, as another figure flipped and landed next to her.

“If you saw me, then Reflektor could just as well.”

“Milady, I can definitely spot you in the crowd, you do stand out.”

“Save your puns for another time, Chat Noir!” She called as a zap shot barely missed her. Instinctively she flipped to evade yet another one and threw her yo-yo towards Reflektor, but came short.

“He’s too far from us, we have to get close somehow! Any ideas?” she called to Chat, who was nimbly flipping away, narrowly avoiding zap shots aimed at him as well. Reflektor was quick to dish them out, one at a time.

“Nothing!” he called back.

She quickly retreated, needing a touch of safety to call in her special ability.

“Lucky charm!”

Marinette cupped her hands and was served with a pair of mid-sized parabolic mirrors, enough to cover a fair swath but still small enough to be handheld.

A pair of parabolic mirrors? Whatever am I going to do with that?

Oh, it's easy!

“Chat, here’s your new year’s gift!” she called as she tossed one of the mirrors towards him and he caught it mid-air. Using it as a handheld shield, he was quick to deflect one of the zap shots fired at him.

“Well, that sure is handy !”

Chat closed the distance between him and Reflektor, almost enough to hit him with his baton, as a zap shot almost hit him. He had to fall back yet again, in order to assess the situation. Marinette tried as well, with similar results. It did make perfect sense - the nearer they got, the quicker their reflexes had to be as well as devote more attention to the shots, making it impossible for them to strike.

Perhaps that’s not how I am supposed to use it… Oh, I have an idea!

As she drew nearer, she did her best to calculate the Reflektor’s position and the exact location of her parabolic mirror. As the next shot came, she positioned herself as accurately as possible.

Zap!

The shot reflected off the mirror and directly hit Reflektor back.

Yes! I did it!

Reflektor chuckled as he just shot another one at Ladybug.

Dang it! He’s immune to this!

Another shot was fired at her, one which she deflected as well… towards Chat Noir, unintentionally.

“Kitty, look out!”

He deflected it in the last moment, just as the shot found itself aimed at her, as she ducked for cover.

I was lucky he didn’t zap me as I was evading the shot that bounced back at me!

“No time to play tennis, my lady!” Chat cried.

Wait a minute… no time?

Her earrings beeped yet again.

What beep was it? Third? Fourth?

Oh no. Oh no oh no!

“Chat Noir, cover for me, I’m about to transform back!”

  Marinette fled the scene, quickly spotted a maintenance closet and jumped in, slamming the door from the inside and locking it shut.

  The final beep commenced as Marinette cowered inside the closet, coiled into a fetal position. It was very cold, almost totally dark, save for the blinking lights of the computer equipment installed above.

At the very least, the darkness helped her avoid the sight of the boy suit she was forced to wear again. But the cold mirrored her internal chill as thoughts raced in her mind. 

  My girlhood is but a fleeting and fickle echo of the real thing. At the risk of being exposed as an act, ending my superheroine career along the way.

A true born girl wouldn’t have had to deal with this.

What would Mylene and Alya think if they ever found out who their girl icon really is?

Or, more importantly, what she is… and isn’t!

I nearly got Chat and myself hit, due to my recklessness!

Everyone in school is counting on me and everyone will know it is I who failed them. They will know someone like me could never be a true superheroine.

  She tried to contain her tears, to no avail. The thought of losing it all so quickly and so decisively was too much for her to bear. The best she could do was quiet it down, the silence uninterrupted as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Tikki… help me, please.” she managed to whisper.

“Do you have a cookie, Marinette?”

Marinette quickly reached for her bag, her uneaten cookie from lunch still stored in it.

I am going to carry dozens of these from now on, I swear to god.

Hands shaking, she reached for her cookie and handed it to Tikki. Tikki grabbed it and began eating quietly as Marinette watched. 

The time it took Tikki to take each bite of the cookie seemed like a painful eternity. The sound of every footstep on the outside was foreboding, in particular when she identified another speaker.

“Where did Ladybug go?” This must be Alya.

Oh no. No no no.

Alya neared the closet as a loud breaking sound was heard, distracting her and pulling her away from the closet, much to Marinette’s relief, who was on the verge of fainting.

“Tikki…” she whispered.

“I’m finally ready, Marinette.” Tikki replied as she finished off the last of the cookie’s crumbs.

“Tikki, spots on!” she whispered, as the suit and mask materialized over her.

I have to find a way to defeat him.

  Marinette went to the courtyard, but Chat Noir wasn’t there. A quick stroll through the corridors found him almost exhausted and taking a short rest.

“Ladybug, we have to come up with something. If I engage him too much I’ll just wear myself down.”

She felt that one too, he didn’t need to explain further. The constant blocking and evasion as well as keeping guard was taking its toll.

Maybe I was wrong about the parabolic mirrors. Maybe there’s something else we need to do with them.

With that, bits and pieces of the fight replayed in her mind as she tried to search for the solution, the thing that evaded her.

What if…

Yes, that’s it!

“Okay kitty, we were close enough, we just played the wrong game!”

She whispered a few words to him and he nodded in approval.

  Chat Noir entered the courtyard and jumped up towards the upper platforms, as Marinette entered from below.

“Didn’t you two have enough by now? You can’t defeat me. I am the Reflektor! You will soon look like me!”

Now time to taunt him… I so want this to end already.

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry.

He grit his teeth.

“Just who do you think you are?”

He fired a shot at her, which is exactly what she was waiting for. She angled her mirror upwards, as the shot deflected towards Chat Noir, then began fixing her mirror to the staircase railings. Chat Noir reflected the shot back at the mirror, bouncing it once or twice before it became fully attached and static.

“It’s not tennis, it’s one player squash!” he chuckled as he sent the shot towards the other mirror once more.

“And there’s only one ball, apparently!” Marinette grinned as well, as she charged towards Reflektor, now unable to use his ring as long as one shot was already out there.

He tried to jump towards the shot’s path to make it hit him and dissipate, only for Marinette to quickly pull him down with her yo-yo and bring him to her.

“Nuh-uh, can’t interrupt a game in the middle!”

Her hand reached for the crumpled paper in his pocket, taking it out and tearing it apart, releasing the akuma.

“No more evildoing for you, nasty bug!” she called it as she whisked the butterfly with her yo-yo, releasing a pristine white one.

“Bye-bye little butterfly!”

“Miraculous… Ladybug!” she called as both she and Chat tossed their mirrors upwards, a stream of ladybugs clearing any damage done and returning victims to normal.

Nathaniel detransformed and Marinette was quick to tend to him.

“Hey… Nobody deserves to be shamed for how they look, whether by fate or by choice.”

He looked at her and he smiled.

“Thanks, Ladybug.”

If only I could have shared with you just how much of this abuse I got myself… but at least now it’s a touch of relief.

“How about you arrange an alternative class shoot of your own? I’m sure your classmates would be happy to help.”

His face now really brightened at the suggestion.

“Yes! That’s a wonderful idea!”

She turned towards her partner who had just landed next to her.

“Pound it!” She called and both bumped fists.

“About today’s meeting… Can we make it tomorrow? I’m... too tired, I guess”

“Sure, Ladybug.”

  ---

  Chat Noir looked at his superheroine partner as she flung her yo-yo and disappeared from sight.

Let’s not delay much more than that, he thought. I really, really want to see more of you. You might just be the most awesome girl I’ve ever met in my entire life.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone else.

[sd1970x]

A few things I (a fanfiction writer) want you to know

 I write fanfiction because I love the characters and ships I write. I’m not a published author, nor am I trying to become one. I’m here because I got obsessed with a stupid tv show. That’s it. 

Kudos and/or comments fuel me more than you can imagine. 

Every day, I get a ‘You’ve got Kudos!’ email. Every day, I open it. I take note of which of my fics have been given kudos. I take note of the usernames I find there. If you’ve left kudos on one of my fics before, I’ll recognize you. I take a moment to appreciate your support. I feel validated and inspired after this. 

When someone comments on one of my fics for the first time, I go ‘Oh hey there, new friend. Welcome to my world.’

If you’ve commented on one of my fics more than once, I know you. I’ve checked out your profile, your works, your bookmarks. When I see your username, I feel like I’m meeting a friend. I’m like ‘This is the person who likes the same rarepair I do.’ - ‘This is the lover of fluff/smut/angst fics.’ I remember.

I read every comment I ever get, many of them more than once. I try to answer them all. I’m not always fast with that, but I promise you, I appreciate the hell out of your feedback. Sometimes people ask me why I’m grinning so dumbly down at my phone, and many times it’s because I just got a new comment. You’re making my day with this. 

Sometimes I get a comment on a WIP I haven’t updated in a while, and in most cases, it motivates me to get the next chapter out. You’re reminding me why I started writing this story. You’re making me want to finish it. 

When I feel down and unable to write, I go back to the comments on stories that mean a lot to me personally. They give me new life. I treasure them. You have no idea how long they stick with me. 

My ask box is always open. You want to express an opinion on my writing anonymously? You have a prompt, an idea, a wish? You probably don’t know how easy I am to persuade to write something. Honestly, try it. 

No fic is too old to comment on it. Never. 

If you’re too shy to leave a comment, you are valid. I’m happy to have you as a reader. I’m a crazy fangirl like you. I’m dying to talk to you. If you can’t, that’s perfectly fine though. 

If you don’t know what to comment, believe me when I say that it doesn’t matter as long as it isn’t rude. You’re too tired to leave a proper comment? I read fics at 2am too my friend, I understand. You don’t know how to put your thoughts into words? You can literally leave me a HI and I’ll be happy about it. 

If you’re too shy to comment in English because you’re not a native speaker, you’re valid. You’re good enough to read fics in this language, you can be proud of that. I know how to use a translator. You may comment in whatever language you want to. I’m not a native speaker either, I’ve long stopped trying to sound like one. I take no shame in that. 

If you have ever taken time out of your day to read one of my stories, I appreciate you so much. If you have ever hit the kudos button on one of my stories, I appreciate you so much. If you have ever written me a comment, shared your genuine feelings about my writing with me, you are responsible for a big, stupid smile on my face and a significant bit of motivation. 

Thank you!

[sd1970x]

you cant tell me Adrien wouldn’t slay the strawberry dress like the nonbinary thude they are 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: 

[sd1970x]

Prompt number 12 for ninette? 💕💕💕

🍁 Miraculous Writer’s Guild September Event 2020 🍁

ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕕 ℕ𝕠𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕘𝕚𝕒 𝕓𝕪 𝕂𝕚𝕞 ( @constantconfusion14 )

Prompt: “Do you maybe think, in retrospect, this was a terrible idea?”

🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂

For once in her life, something was easy.

Mme Bustier’s latest project had the class broken up into groups of four and studying a piece of France’s history. Not only was Marinette able to choose her own group members (leaving her with Alya, Nino and Adrien (her boyfriend!)) but they’d also received ‘cuisine’ as their prompt. Researching cuisine in the culinary capital of the world with the love of her life and two best friends? Maybe her Ladybug luck was finally leaking into her civilian life.

Even better news was Mme. Cesaire’s willingness to help the kids out. She had a tasting organized for a wealthy couple who was looking to host their wedding at Le Grand Paris. Typically, the restaurant would’ve been closed on a Monday, but they’d made a small exception for these particular people (Mayor Bourgeois always made exceptions for money).

Regardless, Marinette was excited to practically have a commercial kitchen and executive chef all to themselves for the evening. While she prepared the meals, Mme. Cesaire glady explained each dish, the locally sourced food she used, provided some history she knew off the top of her head and even let the kids help out in some instances (Alya and Marinette more so than Nino or Adrien). After a single afternoon, the majority of the project was nearly complete. For once, Marinette was able to sigh a breath of relief. Checking things off her to-do list was always a great feeling.

Mme. Cesaire excused herself, pushing out a cart of ingredients out to the showing room. She’d finish the meals in front of the clients and accompany the food with a wine tasting as well. Afterwards, she promised to do something similar for the children with any leftover food and non-alcoholic beverages.

In terms of school projects, it was as if Marinette had hit the jackpot.

“Dudes, is it just me, or is this like, the best research project ever?” Nino dried his hands off with a paper towel and shut off the tiny sink he was standing at. He threw out his now-wet towel and then walked over to the others, leaning up against a nearby door frame.

Adrien had his head buried in his clipboard, furiously scribbling something down. “Well, I don’t have as much experience as you guys, but it’s definitely the best group project I’ve been a part of so far.” He didn’t look up when he spoke. “But...we still gotta put all this info into a slideshow and then plug it into a formal essay.”

Everyone groaned. Alya reached over and pulled the clipboard out of his hands. He protested but the redhead cut him off quickly. “Oh, come on Sunshine, stop being a buzzkill.” Marinette and Nino chuckled at the deadpan look he gave her. Then Alya reached over, giving the clipboard to Marinette. “Here, put this somewhere Mr. Works-A-Lot won’t find it. We’ve got at least an hour of time to kill before my mom is done. If we work on the project now, we lose an excuse to drag you out of your mansion to hang out with us later in the week. Besides, none of us have our laptops with us. And...I have a much better idea.” A smile spread across her face and her eyes glinted with something Marinette had learned to fear.

The raven-haired girl groaned. “Uh oh, I know that look. What’re you planning?”

Alya chuckled guilty as she walked over and threw her arm over her boyfriend’s shoulder. Nino physically winced. “Nu-uh. ‘Nette’s right. Nothing good comes from that smirk.”

She held her palms up, feigning temporary surrender. “I admit that time at that juice parlor was not my best idea-”

“Alya, Nino’s not even allowed in that store anymore.” Marinette scoffed.

Adrien chuckled. “But the story you guys came back with was hilarious. I, for one, would like to hear Alya’s idea.” Marinette inwardly shook her head. Her boyfriend had a lot to learn about encouraging nefarious acts from nefarious people.

Alya smiled. “Thank you, Adrien. All I’m suggesting is a round of Hide-and-Go-Seek. In a kitchen this large? There are bound to be great hiding places. Besides, it would easily kill time.” She smiled innocently. Paired with her child-like game suggestion, Marinette almost fell for it. Nino did.

“Ehhhhh, you’re still shady, but I’ll admit. It sounds like fun. It’s been a while since I’ve played.”

Adrien supported his decision, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “I’ve actually...never officially played Hide-and-Go-Seek? So I’m down.”

Marinette looked up at her boyfriend with shock. “Well, I guess that settles it.” She spoke aloud against her own will. “We can’t deprive him of his first game of hide-and-seek.”

Alya dramatically pumped her fist in the air. “Yes! Ok, I’ll even be the first seeker, since it was my idea. I’ll give you guys ‘til 100 to hide. After that, you’re all fair game.” She whipped around, facing the wall. Covering her eyes with her hands, she began counting.

A familiar sense of panic instantly descended over Marinette. Although it had been years since she’d played a proper game of hide and seek, this feeling would stick with her forever. Adrenaline paired with her innate competitiveness created an awfully childish mix of emotions that would be her salvation. Immediately, she bolted out of the room in an act of self-preservation.

She briefly saw Nino running the other direction, leaving Adrien alone. “Wait!” He called out. “What do I do!?”

“Everyone for themselves!” Marinette called back, not staying by long enough to hear him grumble out a response.

Although it was a large kitchen, Marinette quickly realized there was a lack of actual hiding places. She tried to squirm behind a large food warmer, but decided against it once she saw the mass of wires tucked near it. “Alright then, Tikki,” She opened her purse just enough to whisper to the kwami. “Time to up our strategy.” She smirked and Tikki smiled back, encouraging her antics. Instead of sliding behind the machinery, Marinette hung her purse off the corner of it, positioning it so it just barely poked out from behind it.

Marinette spoke quietly. “You stay with the purse, okay? Make it move to throw Alya off my scent.” Tikki smiled in affirmation before shoo-ing Marinette further down the hallway. Although the kwami of creation was more responsible than her counterpart, even she wasn’t above childish games. Besides, if an akuma were suddenly to arise, Marinette wouldn’t be far away.

The girl silently sneaked through a back hallway but quickly found herself back in the center room where Alya stood, still counting. “75...76...77…” Marinette’s internal panic skyrocketed when she realized her time was running out.

She scanned her eyes around the room again looking for somewhere to hide. She easily spotted Adrien squatting behind a chest freezer. Oh, come on, kitty. Her own voice echoed through her head. You’re a hero of Paris and that’s the best you can come up with? She moved to help right his wrong, but another arm caught her.

Nino looked sadly at his best friend. “You gotta leave him behind, ‘Nette. There are sacrifices in war. He has to learn that the hard way.” His face was mournful, but his mind was made up. Marinette glanced once more at her poor boyfriend before nodding determinedly. Sorry, Chaton.

Nino smiled widely and led her away, into a new corridor filled with dry stock and what appeared to be a wall made of metal. Three doors were cut into the hammered steel and Marinette instantly recognized them as freezers. She stopped instantly as Nino approached one with an open lock lazily hanging off the handle on it.

“Ohhhhh no you don’t” She wriggled her arm free of his grasp.

“Oh, come on! She’ll never think to look in here! It’s the perfect hiding place! The doors blend in with the wall and we can even position this,” he reached out and fiddled with the lock on the handle, “to make her think it’s actually locked. See?” He pulled away and Marinette agreed that the door did actually look fastened. Had she been seeking, she would’ve walked right past.

But reason was stronger. “It’s below freezing in there, Nino!”

“We only have to stay in here long enough for Alya to give up and accept defeat. I’ve played hide and seek with her before. It really doesn’t take long for her to get frustrated.”

“99...100!” Alya’s voice confidently cried out.

The D.J’s eyes went wide with panic. “Please??”

If anyone ever asked Marinette what her fatal flaws were, she would definitely have to admit competitiveness would fall on the list. The freezer wasn’t ideal, but it was a great hiding place. Besides, she was the literal heroine of Paris. Should anything go wrong, she’d be able to get them out of it for sure.

Marinette reached out, swinging the door open with an immense amount of force. “Go!” she aggressively whispered at Nino. He smiled like a five year old who’d been given a massive lollipop and rushed inside. Marinette slipped in behind him.

Immediately the freezing temperature ripped the air out of her lungs. She coughed slightly but turned her attention back to the task at hand and pulled the door closed behind her. Right before it shut completely, she reached her hand out and blindly fiddled with the lock. She clipped it through what felt like the slot of the door handle. Ever so slightly, she pushed the lock into itself to give every appearance that it was, in fact, fastened. Then she pulled the door closed the rest of the way.

“Marinette, wait! Don’t-”

Click.

Why did that sound so out of place? Marinette slowly turned to look at Nino, his eyes wide with dread.

It...it was fine. That was just a normal click. It just meant the door had sealed completely, trapping all this freezing air inside with them…

Nino rushed past her, slamming his body into the door like a battering ram.

The door didn’t budge.

Marinette was literally frozen in place as the realization dawned on her. Nino rammed into the door again. The loud clang snapped her back into reality and she joined him for the fourth and fifth attempts at pushing the door open. After the sixth time, Nino grabbed his shoulder and stepped away, wincing. “Oh, this is bad. This is bad, bad, bad. Like, really really bad.”

Tikki! Marinette let out a sigh of relief as she reached down for her purse. The kwami would be able to phase through and unlock the door for them! But Marinette’s hand was only met with cold air. Though her heart had just climbed back into its normal position, the memory of her leaving Tikki with her purse caused the vital organ to fall right back into her stomach. She was going to be sick.

Pure desperation pushed Marinette back towards the door again. She banged both hands on it like a child having a temper tantrum after being locked in their room. “HELP!” She cried, her voice breaking slightly. “PLEASE! ADRIEN! ALYA! HELP!”

Her cries for help went unanswered.

After what must’ve been a few minutes, Nino had to pull her away from the door. “You’re just gonna bruise your hands or something dude, save your energy.” He held up his phone for her to see and shook it slightly. “I’ve got no signal in here, either. I think we’re just gonna have to wait it out unfortunately. They’ll find us eventually” He let out a sigh that immediately condensed into fog. It hovered in the air between them like a guilty jury verdict.

Marinette checked her phone quickly, but it yielded the same result. No signal. She brought her hands up around her arms and shivered. It was freezing.

“Okay...maybe there’s a temperature gauge in here? I’m sure the restaurant will understand if we change it to above freezing for a few minutes.”

Nino was already swivelling his head around to look for something of that nature. “Yeah, yeah that’s a good idea.” Unfortunately, there was no internal thermostat for them to control, but Nino did happen to find a switch to turn off the fan. It didn’t make much of a difference, but it was enough to reduce her panic slightly.

“Ugh,” Nino spat as he noticed a tiny thermometer perched on one of the shelves. “-24°C?? That doesn’t make me feel better.” He glanced apprehensively at Marinette. “How long until hypothermia sets in at these temperatures?”

Marinette shook her head, sassily making the ‘I don’t know’ sound. “Eventually?”

Nino scoffed. “Well thanks, t-that h-helps.” Marinette looked up at him when he stuttered. They were both shivering, but Nino was shivering a lot more than she was. His thin, short sleeved shirt was definitely not faring well against the cold. At least Marinette had a light jacket on. Any sort of extra protection was gladly welcomed given the current predicament.

“Here,” she started and then pushed some boxes around to clear a space for the two of them. The freezer was smaller and obviously it must’ve been some sort of backup for the chefs. Two metal shelving units bordered the sides, leaving a small aisle that backed directly up to the metal wall. Marinette emptied a few boxes and then broke them down into flat sheets. She placed one on the floor and one against the wall, creating a cardboard couch of somesort. Then she sat down and patted the space next to her.

Nino sent her a questioning glance, but joined her regardless. He sat with his back against the cardboard and pulled his knees up to his chest. Marinette shrugged her jacket off as he sat down next to her. Her intention was to semi-cover both of them with the small garment, but the half-meter gap he left in between them was not helping the situation.

She sighed slightly before scooching closer, tucking her right shoulder right underneath his arm. Nino pulled back for a second but then fell into her body heat. She could feel him starting to shiver violently. “S-sorry to make it awkward and all, but we’re gonna have to push our c-comfort zones for a little bit here.” Great, now her teeth were starting to chatter, too. But despite it, Marinette offered her kindest smile and Nino returned it.

She laid her jacket over the two of them, only covering each of their arms and a bit of her own shoulder. She then grabbed the last collapsed box she had and laid it over them. It covered them much more than her jacket, but brought much less warmth. For a few silent minutes, they just sat there, focusing all their energy on ignoring how desperately cold they both were becoming.

But attempting to ignore it was only making her more aware. Already, Marinette was starting to lose feeling in her toes. She’d pulled her feet closer up to her body, but her open flats were spectacularly failing her. Her left arm was covered in goosebumps and her ears were starting to hurt from how frozen they were. She brought her hands up to her head and used her palms to cover her ears.

Nino noticed her movement and looked over to see what the problem was. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I sh-should’ve dressed better for the weather,” she chattered out, smiling sarcastically.

With a pathetic smirk, Nino took the headphones off his neck and gingerly reached over to clamp them over Marinette’s ears. “Better?” he asked as he tucked the top of his own ears into his cap.

The answer was an overwhelming yes. His body warmth must’ve leaked into the fabric of the headphones because her ears were instantly satisfied with the change of temperature. But after seeing the poor coverage Nino was getting, Marinette switched things up a bit.

She undid her pigtails, allowing her hair to fall around her shoulders and cover her ears. Then she reached over, took Nino’s cap and replaced it with his headphones. She gently snapped them over his ears and placed his large cap on her smaller head. It easily covered her ears and along with her hair, it was the closest she could possibly get to a winter hat in this situation. “Better.” She nodded determinedly and sunk her arm back into his side for warmth. He followed suit and they sat in silence for a while, neither of them having anything decent to say.

Marinette silently cursed her miraculous for being so useless in a time like this. If only she hadn’t left Tikki behind. She should’ve learned a while ago to never let the earrings or Tikki get too far away from her. It always came back to bite her in the end.

But then again, Marinette should’ve been smart enough to not hide and accidentally lock herself in an industrial freezer. She chuckled slightly in disbelief at her own stupidity, a puff of air materializing in front of her mouth.

Nino glanced over at her skeptically. “What?” He questioned. The sound of his chattering teeth filled the small space.

“D-do you think maybe, i-in retrospect, this was a t-terrible idea?” Marinette huffed out another laugh, causing more frozen fog in the air.

Nino shifted his shoulders against her slightly and Marinette never thought she’d enjoy the hot feel of friction so much in her life. “I-I’m gonna say the idea was s-solid. It was the execution that could’ve u-used some improvement.”

Marinette nudged him slightly with her shoulder, partly for the insult, partly for the friction and partly to be closer to him. She’d never realized how warm Nino was. “O-oh yeah? Well I’d l-like to see you try to blindly fake-lock a d-door and do better.”

To her surprise, Nino actually shifted against her nudge and moved his arm over her shoulders. He laid his left hand over her exposed left arm and pulled her closer into him. Marinette let loose a small sound of shock at the cheesy arm movement. Everything inside her screamed wrong because this was intimate and they were both in relationships with other people. But she knew his intentions were innocent and just an attempt to keep them warm. Besides, she’d known Nino forever. When they were just kids, she’d created more contact when she would tackle him during games of tag. During playdates, they’d fallen asleep next to each other while watching cartoons more than a few times. This closeness was nothing new.

But it felt new for some reason. Marinette was starting to realize how much distance had developed between her and Nino. She shivered suddenly, but didn’t know if it was from the cold of the freezer or the cold of a distance she’d never wanted between her and her friend.

“Yeah, s-sure. Tell yourself whatever you need to to make yourself f-feel better. But don’t forget that time y-you decided to hide in the dumpster behind your bakery, like, 10 minutes b-before the garbage men showed up to empty it.” He made a short wheezing sound as he laughed, accidentally pulling Marinette closer into him as his muscles contracted.

She didn’t mind the extra warmth their close proximity provided. “Ok, I w-was eight!” She defended herself hopelessly.

“Pshaw! You were l-like, twelve! Besides, you’ve always called yourself mature for your age. So y-you can’t use that excuse.”

“I am mature for my age, but I’m g-gonna keep using that excuse and y-you can’t stop me.” Marinette sassily huffed out her response before the room fell to silence for a few, light moments. She tilted her head slightly to look at Nino’s face and caught a small, nostalgic smile.

He let loose a small chuckle. “Ah man, I miss all the fun times we had as kids.”

And Marinette did, too. She missed that one time her father had futilely attempted to teach her and Nino how to make macarons. She missed playing tag with Nino in the park across from her house and jumping in the fountain every chance they got just to be pulled out again by a parent. She missed walks through the shopping districts of Paris where the kids would marvel at the toy stores as if they held all the answers in life. Marinette missed being a kid. And she missed being a kid with Nino.

“Yeah, but we had to g-grow up on each other.” It had been meant as a lighthearted comment, but Marinette’s voice betrayed her as she thought about just how much her ‘rebel teenage years’ had been cut down by the machete of super hero responsibility.

Now, fun baking lessons had been replaced with food-based akumas. Childish games of tag were now very real ‘run for your life’ situations on the weekly. And the answers to life? Apparently those were in Tibet and not in the toy store down the street.

Nino scoffed. “Grow up? We’re like, 15 ‘Nette. We’re not even a q-quarter of the way through our lives.”

That was the logical assumption for a normal person. But a superhero? “First off,” she started before she could stop herself. “I might be well over h-half way through my life and not even know it-”

“Geez, dudette, talk about being pessimistic.”

“But secondly, Paris has freaking superheroes and su-supervillains now. Isn’t that a little crazy? We live in a world wh-where we can’t let ourselves feel our emotions in fear of becoming akumatized. And that...that scares me.” Marinette hadn’t admitted that to anyone, not even Tikki. But talking with Nino just felt so natural. It felt comfortable and familiar and warm. She noticed herself snuggling deeper into his side. Shocked at her own movements, she tried to pull away, but he held her tightly as if physically protecting her from her fears.

Of course he was protecting her. Nino was, in his heart, the wielder of the turtle miraculous. Protection was a fundamental aspect of his character both as a person and as a superhero. Marinette silently chided herself. Here she was, complaining about superheroes and villains and the crazy world when she’d purposely put the exact same responsibility on her friend. And worst of all, now Hawkmoth knew Nino’s identity. He knew where to find him, who his friends and family members were. She’d put him in direct danger because she hadn’t been strong enough to stop Anazi or Miracle Queen. And that was selfish.

Her toes were now beyond numb. Despite her attempts to cover her legs, her exposed ankles felt as if someone were making a poor attempt of acupuncture. The feeling of pin pricks was slowly creeping up her body, moving to her thighs and threatening to infiltrate her core. The only thing stopping it from overcoming her completely was Nino’s warm embrace.

Once again, he was protecting her.

He spoke up, after allowing her weak statement of fear to settle in the small freezer. Although subtle, Marinette recognized a change in his voice, almost like a false bravado. If her eyes had been closed, she probably would’ve assumed it was Carapace speaking rather than Nino. “Ya know, it’s o-okay to let yourself feel when you need to. Buh-Bottling emotions up is like, the worst way to d-deal with them. Whenever life is too much for you, just call me over or something. I’m more than happy to let you vent to me. And I’ll k-keep watch out for akumas, too. You’re not getting possessed by Mr. Freaky Moth-Man on my watch.”

She looked up to meet his tender amber eyes glowing back at her. Within a single instant, she felt the heat of her parents bakery and the warmth of the sun shining down on her as they played tag in the park.  Nino’s gaze reminded her of the cozy safety of childhood. For a moment, she forgot the cold air around her and simply melted in his presence.

Reacting solely to the heat memory, her face tinged red in a blush and she quickly looked away to prevent Nino from getting the wrong impression. She managed a response to his statement, stuttering only because her teeth were clacking from the cold. “O-okay. Say I just release all my b-baggage on you. So there I am, s-sobbing my eyes out and wallowing in e-endless self-pity. What do you do when the ak-kuma shows up?”

Without a second of hesitation, he snorted and replied confidently. “Ha, okay. If one shows up, I’ll, idk, lay down some beats th-that are so fresh, the akuma will j-just become purified or something.”

Marinette released a heavy, incredulous breath out of her nose. The air in front of her immediately condensed and fell back onto her skin. A chuckle attempted to follow suit but came out as more of a chitter as her teeth clanged together and prevented the laugh from fully bubbling out.

Nino leaned forward, accidentally shifting her closer to him as he leaned over to determine if her strange sounds were coming from a place of happiness or anxiety. The smile split across her face gave him all the encouragement he needed to continue his antics.

“I mean, there have to be o-others ways to purify an akuma, r-right? Like, I bet if Chat Noir p-put on his best kitty-cat eyes and went, ‘Nya,’” Nino put his free right hand up by his face and curled his finger over his palm slightly, moving it forward against his cheek as he pursed his lips. But as soon as the sound effect fell from his lips, he transitioned back into his regular tone. “Hawkmoth would just be forced to immediately give up and surrender.”

Marinette held her stomach tightly because, unbeknownst to Nino, Chat had done that exact move before. It had been absolutely dreadful, but maybe Nino was right. Maybe it was horrible enough to force Hawkmoth’s defeat. The idea was only making her laugh harder.

Only more encouraged, Nino kept going. “The other h-heroes have their own methods too! Like, if Rena plays a horrible enough rendition of the Jurassic P-Park theme on her flute it’s an instant K.O. for the akuma. Or! Carapace can j-just stare it down. When it gets too close, he picks up his shield, s-slams it down and screams ‘You shall not Pass!” At that point, the ak-kuma’s only option will be to turn around and g-go back to Hawk-butt.” His breath was light and airy and he spoke his words as if they were rice cakes. The more he talked, the easier it became for Marinette to forget how cold she was.

Unfortunately, the more he spoke, the more difficult it became for Marinette to breathe. By the time he got to Queen Bee’s method of quoting The Bee Movie at it, Marinette was full out wheezing. Her awful sounds of bliss echoed against their small surroundings, slamming harshly into each of the metal walls. It was a cacophony of ecstasy as Nino joined in with her.

“S-stop it!” Marinette hopelessly sputtered out. “My t-tears are f-freezing to my f-faaaceee!” Her last word was drawn out, partially because her mouth was moving slower (thanks to the cold) but partially because she immediately fell back into another bout of laughter.

Together the two fell against each other, cackling at just how weak an akuma was in the presence of pure elation and fun. Surely, with such flawless tactics, Marinette would never have to worry about becoming akumatized.

Bang! Bang!

“Marinette???? NINO???” A familiar voice cried their names as he slammed against the locked door.

Blue and amber eyes grew wide, staring at each other before they launched out of their seated positions and rammed into the opposite side of the freezer.

“ADRIEN! Dude! Help us g-get out! Break the lock or-”

A deafening slamming sound followed by a groan was the instant response.

“B-bro! It swings outwards! Why w-would you run into it?” Nino cried out to his best friend, his face conveying the exact same emotion of endearing befuddlement as his tone of voice.

“Adrien!” Another voice rippled from the outside. “What are you-”

“ALYA!” Marinette shrieked, pounding on the door. “Get the key! Please! We-we’re freez-zing in here!”

“What?” Came the response before a violent jingling reverberated through the metal door.

“Hold on, I’m going to get help!” Footsteps Marinette assumed to be Adriens faded away. She had a feeling a particular superhero would show up in his place in a few, short moments.

“You morons hid in the freezer?” Alya’s sharply terrified voice cut through Marinette like an earring through a partially pierced ear. There was another jingle as she assumed Alya took a closer look at the lock. “How? How did you guys even lock this from the inside? That’s gotta be the worst luck I’ve ever seen in my life!”

Marinette rolled her eyes. For supposedly being the epitome of good luck, she too often experienced the opposite when not transformed.

“N-Nino’s idea!” She called out to her friend.

At the exact same time, Nino cried out “Blame M-Mari!”

A loud, clacking drew nearer at a very fast pace and Marinette was immediately able to place the sound. She rolled her eyes and reached out for Nino’s hand. He looked over at her when she did so. “You m-might wanna s-step back.”

Nino furrowed his eyebrows at her. “What is-?”

“What the...How-” Alya’s voiced her own concerns

“Hey! Heard you needed something destroyed? Cataclysm!” A small sound of decay followed his words. And then the freezer door was ripped open to reveal a terrified Chat Noir and a very confused Alya.

Balmy, humid air rushed over Marinette and she just wanted to melt into a puddle of goo against the tile floor. Never had she ever taken room temperature for granted before. But now that room temperature wasn’t below freezing, she was suddenly grateful to be experiencing a more tepid degree.

The only part of her body that felt unchanged was, strangely, her hand. She still gripped Nino’s fingers tightly and he wrapped his around hers in return. Despite the rush of a much warmer climate, her hand felt as if it had been warm the entire time.

In the following moments, Marinette and Nino received bear hugs from Chat Noir, Alya and eventually Adrien who conveniently returned once the cat hero had disappeared. Their friends provided the two popsicles with jackets and catering linens to act as blankets in a desperate attempt to warm them back up to a safe temperature.

Adrien made sure to return Marinette’s purse he found hanging off one of the warmers. Apparently, her decoy had worked a little too well and had sent Adrien and Alya on a wild goose chase on the opposite side of the kitchen for longer than they’d like to admit. As he handed her purse back to Marinette, Adrien subtly opened it, allowing Tikki’s concerned blue orbs to meet her owner’s. The kwami looked over her chosen and then smiled, happy she was okay.

But man. Marinette knew the moment she was alone, Tikki was going to have some choice words to share. For now, though, her main focus was getting back to a non-hypothermic temperature as she huddled between her friends. Adrien and Alya were on the outside, squishing the two frozen teens in the middle.

Marinette welcomed the heat surrounding her body in place of the frigid, unforgiving cold as she finally felt her skin start to defrost. But the still-frozen body next to her was shivering aggressively. Despite leaning into her boyfriend, Marinette scooched closer to Nino, pulling Adrien with her. The blonde happily obliged and wrapped his arm around both of their shoulders, allowing Nino to siphon off some of his sunshine heat as well. Adrien’s tight embrace was warming Marinette’s outside and she relaxed into him, knowing his heat would seep into her veins. But when Marinette looked up at Nino, shivering and chattering in his table-cloth, he smiled tenderly at her and she couldn’t help but smile back.

Instantly, her icy blood thawed to an amber warmth.

[sd1970x]

Lawful good

trans names alignment chart

[sd1970x]

Marinette, work in progress - Ch2

Read also on AO3: here

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The sound of bird chirping accompanied the rain waning down. 

“Petrichor,” Marin quipped as he took in a deep breath of that musky smell, and sat down at one of the park benches to contemplate his first day at school.

  So… Chloe is with me in class, that is a major disappointment. But Adrien… that’s something I did not expect, at all. 

  A homeless person lay next to Marin. He considered how the rain must have not been kind to them, yet they still looked cheerful enough.

The woman rose up and looked at him with mild curiosity, then suddenly a smile of recognition came about her.

“Hey… I know you, you’re the Dupain-Cheng kid, aren’t you? I used to order bread from your bakery.” The woman said. 

“Oh?”

Marin tried his best to jog his memory, but to no avail.

“Fanny. Fanny de Travers.”

Oh!

He had vague memories of her as a polite lady, but not much more.

“I used to work as a freelance tailor, until I became too sick to practice the trade.”

That jogged his memory a bit. He now remembered she used to show his mom some embroidery occasionally. In fact, it may have been one of the few things that kindled his interest in fashion.

“You know what, Fanny? Wait right here, I’ll be back in a moment!”

Like any self-respecting bakery, the Dupain-Cheng boulangerie had a bag for unsold goods that were destined for charity. Marin quickly picked some of the best he could find from it, wrapping it up and hurrying back to the park.

Much to his surprise, when he came back, Fanny was already chatting freely with one of his classmates.

“Mylene?”

“Oh, Hi there Marin!” She said, as both her and Fanny looked at his wrapped bread. “I didn’t know your bakery was part of the anti food waste program!”

Fanny couldn’t have been happier at the sight, followed by the smell and the taste.

“That tastes real good, reminds me of the times I could actually afford it.”

She took one good crunchy bite, then sighed, pocketing the rest in her jacket.

“Do you two know each other?” Marin asked, mildly surprised at the unexpected encounter.

“Mylene is an activist, I’ve seen her once or twice in demonstrations.”

Mylene nodded in approval. “Just doing my small share at making sure Paris is a better city for everyone.”

Marin wasn’t sure if he ever excelled at reading people’s sincerity, but something about Mylene’s enthusiasm seemed highly convincing. 

It’s quite nice to have someone like her in class.

“Now, I’m really sorry to bid you farewell; there’s a demonstration I’m going to.”

“Oh!” both Fanny and Marin exclaimed. “What’s it about?”

“I don’t actually know yet,” she admitted sheepishly. “We’ll get all the details soon.”

Just as she made that statement, several city construction workers started spreading around the park, taking measurements and making chalk marks.

“Hrm? Is something going on?”

“We’d have to ask you to leave soon. We’re about to install new benches in the park.”

“New benches, that’s really nice!” Fanny looked at the construction workers, hopeful.

“Ha. Wait until you see them,” one of them responded, a mysterious smile to him and a certain gleam in his eye. Something about Fanny seemed to deflate at that moment as her movements slowed down and her senses seemed to sharpen. It was that moment when another of the construction workers gave her a friendly pat to the back and said “I’m terribly sorry.”

“What would you be sorry about?” she asked, almost instinctively, even though her expression gave in that she was starting to realize it. In a few moments, they all saw the crane hauling over the new bench. 

Marin had never slept in the street, but it was obvious to him there was no way anyone could ever sleep on that angled stone slab, much less with the bars attached at strategic locations and the shallow, but disruptive, segmentation.

“No, please…” Fanny begged, to no avail, as Marin’s heart sank at the cruelty.

Who’s to hear her cry, a plight to be allowed some dignity in her sleep?

And even if the construction workers were to listen and open their hearts to her plea, was there anything they could do about it?

Marin watched Fanny’s head droop as she slowly walked away from them.

“Try the other way,” the friendly construction worker called to her. “It will be a longer while before installation plans reach that part of the city.”

“I… I guess that’s what today’s protest is about.” Mylene sighed deeply. “I better hurry.”

“Can I… can I come with you?” he asked, and Mylene nodded.

  ---

  A whirr of a motor disrupted the silence as rays of light disrupted the darkness as well, opening just a bit of Hawk Moth’s lair to the world.

“Yes. Just the feelings I need. Despair against a merciless municipality. Rage against civil servants with a heart of stone. Fly away, my precious akuma, and evilize her!”

  Fanny walked aimlessly, trying to get as far as she could from that park. Eventually, she succumbed to the thoughts of futility and leaned her back at one of the trees on the boulevard, sobbing. Another pedestrian casually bumped into her, not even bothering to utter an apology.

She looked about, paying no special attention to the odd butterfly that approached her, as it landed on the piece of bread sticking out of her jacket’s pocket.

  It was then when she felt some kind of mental link being formed and silvery eyes prying into her soul.

“ Stoneheart. I am Hawk Moth. Wouldn’t you like to repay those who failed to listen to your pleas, those with a true heart of stone?”

“With pleasure, Hawk Moth”.

The purple-black mist enveloped her, as she morphed into Stoneheart, a giant made of pure stone.

  ---

  Marin and Mylene were walking at that very same boulevard, as a deafening sound and a shake of the earth rattled them to their core.

They both looked at Stoneheart with great fear, their minds doing their best to comprehend its existence, with little success.

“What… What is that thing?” Mylene cried. Marin was swift to pull her from its way as its foot crashed into the ground, seemingly ignoring them both, much to their relief.

“I don’t know, but we had better run away!” Marin answered as both nodded and fled the boulevard.

Marin ran off as quickly as he could, his feet carrying him away towards the safety of his home. He tried his best to forget about the scene he just witnessed, to no avail. It’s not like he was empowered to do anything about it anyway, now was he?

Well, at least Alya would be very interested, I bet she’d love to chase and photograph the thing. 

Just as he was about to fetch his phone from the school bag and call her, something dropped out of it, an object he did not recognize. He picked it up and examined it thoroughly.

The thing looked like a highly ornate tiny box made of lacquered black wood with strange engravings.

“Huh? What’s that doing here?”

He cautiously opened the box, curious as to the pair of earrings found inside, as a tiny red creature with a black dot on their forehead emerged. 

“First a monster and now I’m imagining things,” he quipped.

“Huh? Well, imagine this!” The creature flew and forcefully smacked right into his right side.

“Ouch, what did you do that for?”

Wait a minute...

“You’re real!”

“Yes! My name is Tikki and I’m a Kwami.”

“My dad must be pranking me.”

Marin waved his hand as if trying to find the strings that supposedly make Tikki move.

“We don’t have time for this, you have to listen. We have to beat Stoneheart.”

Marin looked at her with intent from several directions, going ‘hmm’ as he did.

“You’re a bit too small for that.”

“Don’t be silly. There’s something super inside you waiting to be unleashed.”

“The only thing I’m super at is being the school’s super laughing stock!”

Tikki seemed to ignore his statement.

“Just memorize the important parts. The invocation of your special power is by saying ‘lucky charm,’ but you will detransform after five earring beeps, so wait for the right moment to use it.”

Marin looked at her, still thoroughly unconvinced, though he did place the earrings over his ears as Tikki expected him to.

“Okay… I’ll try to remember all of that,” he said.

“And after that, you need to find the akumatized item, break it, then capture the butterfly using your yo-yo.”

Marin nodded.

“I still think this is all some kind of a prank.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind saying ‘spots on’, would you?” Tikki seemed to taunt him.

“Spots… on?”

  ---

  Marin got a glimpse of Tikki’s form getting sucked into his earrings. By then, he was no longer able to suggest it was a prank. His body seemed to gain a life of his own, his hands motioning over his eyes, a red mask forming over them. The transformation then proceeded towards the rest of his body, covering it with a red-and-black hexagon patterned suit and the yo-yo Tikki promised formed near his hip.

“Well, that’s a surprise,” he said, as he looked at himself in the mirror and he realized it was far more surprising that he had initially imagined.

“I’m… a girl now?”

Something about those words felt right. Too right. Almost temptingly right.

Too tempting… and not true.

I may have a girl alter ego, (s)he thought, but that doesn’t mean I am a girl, now does it?

(S)he wasn’t too surprised that the feeling still lingered on, despite her supposedly-rational thought about it. The image in the mirror was too hard to fight off.

(S)he casually waved her hand and was still surprised that the image in the mirror did the exact same.

“Well then… it’s time to save the world, isn’t it, Tikki?”

There was no response.

“Oh my, guess she’s part of my suit. Perhaps that’s why I have a feminine form!”

That revelation made her feel joy at figuring it out and the same time cast some unexplained sadness upon her.

As if (s)he wanted to have a genuinely feminine part to have brought about that form. But alas, (s)he was a boy. A not-so-happy fate, as far as (s)he had considered, but a fate nonetheless.

“So. Ladybug.” she whispered.

My girl persona.

I have a girl persona.

I’m free to act like a girl when I’m wearing this suit.

  ----

  Marin left her room to her porch as she considered her options. She pulled out the yo-yo and an idea came to mind, about using it as a means of transport.

It’s a bit crazy but worth a try, I guess?

A quick toss and it latched perfectly upon a stone gargoyle in a nearby cathedral. She tugged it and found herself thrust forward.

That works!

She quickly landed at the cathedral’s balcony, where another figure stood. One very similar to her, though clad in black. Being the Ladybug-themed superheroine, then he must be-

“Chat Noir, pleased to meet you. You must be the partner my kwami told me about.”

“Well, my kwami failed to mention any partner…” she said, “But two against one sounds better.”

“Uhh… About that, I have some really bad news, partner,” Chat Noir called as he pointed towards the street below them. A group of Stoneheart clones were now thrashing through Paris. In between them, she spotted one wearing a familiar jacket.

Fanny?

The jacket-wearing stoneheart pointed towards a nearby beggar and they instantly turned into yet another clone of theirs, joining their growing army.

“We have to stop them before they get out of control!”

Chat Noir was quick to vault towards the scene and Marin followed, using her yo-yo yet again as means of transport. Chat Noir was careless enough to land smack in the middle of a group of stoneheart clones, while Marin was much more careful in planning her landing.

“Cataclysm!” he called it and touched his hand to the ground, causing a minor chasm to open up and giving him cover to vault away to safety.

“Wow, that was so cool! better have another one ready,” he suggested. “Cataclysm!” He called it again.

Marin stared at Chat Noir who seemed perplexed that his super-power wasn't recharging on its own.

“Looks like your Kwami failed to mention important things too! You only have one shot at it. It’s all up to me now, I guess. LUCKY CHARM!”

Marin cupped her hands to find a firehose dropping into them.

A firehose? That’s almost too easy!

“Cover me, partner!” she said, and Chat Noir was quick to fend off some stoneheart clones with his baton and allow her to reach one of the fire hydrants. As she plugged it, she tried her best to aim at Stoneheart’s pocket, to no avail.

I have to do better than this.

She quickly slid between the legs of some other stoneheart clones, jumping over yet another two and stuffing the hose straight into the pocket in Stoneheart’s jacket.

The torrent of water was quick to dislodge and soak the piece of bread, swiftly breaking it apart. In a moment, all the Stoneheart clones detransformed, leaving behind dazed people, as the akuma butterfly fluttered away.

“You’re done causing trouble, little akuma!” she called as she tossed her yo-yo away, whisking the butterfly into her yo-yo.

“Bye bye, pretty butterfly!” she waved at the now white purified butterfly, then looked at the fireman’s hose she carried.

“Miraculous… Ladybug!” She cried as she tossed the hose sky high and it burst into a shower of ladybugs, going about Paris and correcting whatever damage Stoneheart had caused.

  An earring beep reminded her of her time limit.

“Tomorrow at eight, same cathedral. Don’t be late, partner!” She bid him farewell and quickly ran off.

  ----

  Her earrings made their final beep just as she hid herself in the alley and detransformed.

“I was… a superheroine,” she mumbled. “But now I’m a boy again, I’m-”

Something about being Ladybug thrilled her far more than just her superpowers.

Something about the suit seemed to fit in a way that was much more than merely physical.

The thought about being a boy again made her sick to her core and by now she realized very well why.

She’d be forced to forever live out the gap between her feminine alter ego, let loose in superheroine form, and the boy life she has to endure.

The bullying. The harassment. Laughed at for being gay.

If only I could actually be Ladybug. If only I truly had that in me.

As if to reinforce that exact thought, her school bag just slipped away and its contents spread around, reminding her of the very thing she wished to forget. A gentle, manicured hand picked up her history book and her eyes went wide.

The scrawl was gone.

Huh?

As if by themselves, tears of happiness poured out, as her hand gently fluttered over the now-clean history book.

It’s gone! that… that awful thing, no longer here to haunt me. The blatant reminder of my supposed place. How many tears have I shed over this?

In-between her tears, she also noticed something else. Her hand, which was feeling the book, was now different as well.

How could I have missed that?

Gentle. Manicured.

A girl's hand.

Wait.

Hold it right there for a minute.

No… it can’t be… it’s… I…

I didn’t change back.

I DIDN’T CHANGE BACK!

Hands gently trailed her now feminine features, stroking her face which was previously slightly bearded (much to her chagrin), now smooth to the touch. Cupping her breasts, squeezing them just a touch.

They’re… real. It’s all real!

She looked at herself and something just felt feminine, right . (She would only later be able to identify it as body fat distribution changes)

“I…”

She began saying something, then stopped as her own voice startled her. It was now higher-pitched than before. As if she hadn’t gone through this awful puberty.

Feelings of joy, surprise and fear of the unknown overwhelmed her. She collapsed at the nearest bench, crying her heart out.

“Are you okay, girl?”

“I’m… girl… I…”

She called me a girl. I’m a girl now. I’m really a girl now.

“Do you need some help?”

I… but… do I even know the least thing about actually being a girl?

This thought made her dizzy, as another began to chase her.

I’m a girl now. That’s… ten times as hard, isn’t it? Being so… 

Tikki… I have to talk with Tikki.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled towards the woman, as she made haste home, ignoring everything and everyone who stood in her way as she barged through the bakery’s door, the bell ringing loudly.

“In a hurry, Marinette?” Her dad called, but it barely registered in her mind. She quickly opened the door to their home and quickly climbed the stairway, opening the door to her room then gaping in awe.

  ---

  “It’s… it’s beautiful!” she squirmed full of excitement. Her room now looked nothing like she had remembered it. Her eyes were first drawn to the pink upholstery, replacing the drab grey memory and evoking glee at the cuteness it radiated. The lounge chaise was a perfect match and she had to restrain her urge to immediately jump and lay over it. Her feet dragged her as if by their own volition to her desk, colorful and inviting, tastefully decorated with various trinkets.

“Awesome!” she almost screamed as she sat on her chair.

“So, I take it you like your new room!” A high pitched sound was heard, as Tikki emerged from her purse.

Wait, I have a purse? And it’s all pretty and pink? 

“Well then, Marinette, how do you like your new life?”

Marinette blushed furiously.

“I… it’s… it’s everything I ever wished for, without even knowing it. Even my new name feels… perfect.”

That admission only managed to further her embarrassment at being unable to get a good grip on the situation and she tried her best to look away from Tikki.

“So, I should tell you exactly how it works, then.” Tikki zipped in front of Marinette again, denying her the privilege of looking the other way.

“The Miraculous Cure has rewritten everyone’s knowledge of you and reshaped your life. Should you ever want to reverse it, you will need to call for the Miraculous Cure again with that intent.”

Marinette chuckled.

“I… don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“As for your own body, this one couldn’t be handled by the Cure as it avoids subjectively fixing you.”

“Oh?”

Well, that does make some sense, I guess?

“So, I am sustaining that magic using a small portion of my power. Should you need your maximum power, you can ask me to drop it temporarily.”

“Well, I don’t see that happening either. Tikki, things are... ”

She paused, trying to contain her excitement.

“Things are the best they have ever been. I am looking forward to school and living my new life.”

Marinette looked at her bed that suddenly looked oh-so-inviting, both on account of how it looked and on account of her being so tired.

“Guess it’s time for me to go to bed… Good night, Tikki!”

“Good night, Marinette.”

Marinette tucked herself into bed, a wide smile to her that refused to fade.

  ---

  Dear Marinette… While I did this much for you, your quest towards accepting who you really are is far from done. The real challenge lies deep within you.

[sd1970x]

Hi! I would love if you did prompt 20 with Marichat!

🍁 Miraculous Writer’s Guild September Event 2020 🍁

𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕤 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕦𝕤 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕓𝕪 𝔻𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕖-ℙ𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕦𝕞 

( @deinde-prandium )

Prompt: “Ever wonder how different your life would be if that one thing never happened?”

🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂~🍂

The question comes out of nowhere.

“Ever wonder how different your life would be if that one thing never happened?”

At first, Marinette thinks Chat is just up to his usual mischief. “It's not my fault that that pigeon stole your last cookie, and I'm not sharing,” she warns, hunching protectively over the small plate of treats next to her. “Not like last time.”

“But you always share, Princess,” Chat teases, waggling his eyebrows with a cheeky grin that makes her hate how right he is. He’s just too sweet, too charming...too Chat Noir for her to ever say no.

Especially when he calls her Princess. Marinette would find it more annoying if she didn’t miss the old nicknames he used to call Ladybug, but her weakness in this regard still embarrasses her.

Stupid alley cat, she grumbles silently, willing her cheeks to cool down as she adopts as neutral an expression as possible. “Not tonight, I don’t.”

Chat smiles knowingly at her from his usual perch on the railing of her balcony. “We’ll see about that.”

In the next moment, however, his swagger gives way to something else entirely. He turns away, gazing at the moon with a faraway look in his eyes. “But just so you know, that was a serious question. Like, can you think of some event in your life that would have completely altered reality as you currently know it, if it had never happened at all? Some big, fork-in-the-road decision you made that set you on one path as opposed to another?”

Marinette hesitates. There are about a million such events that she can think of - the most significant of which all happen to involve the little red kwami currently hiding behind the flowerpot next to her. But she is obviously in no position to share...no matter how much she’s been thinking about it lately.

Unable to answer honestly, she tries to keep things light. “Feeling philosophical, Chat?” she asks with a smirk.

“Close,” he says. “Actually, I was thinking about something I learned today in my quantum physics lecture.”

“Physics, huh? Look at you, Albert Einstein.”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I am a man of many a-meow-zing talents,” he replies with a sniff. “Anyway, we were talking about this thing our prof called the Many Worlds Interpretation. It's this theory in quantum physics that suggests that we live in a universe - actually, an infinite number of universes, existing all at once - wherein every possible quantum outcome is realized.”

Marinette tilts her head. “I’m not sure that I follow.”

“Let me show you what I mean.” Chat drops down from the railing and, extending a hand, pulls her to her feet. Marinette stumbles as she rises, but Chat’s quick reflexes kick into gear and he’s ready, catching her with one arm. Her stomach flips at the feel of his body pressed so closely to hers.

“S- sorry about that,” Marinette sputters, her eyes darting unconsciously to his lips.

“It’s fine,” he whispers back.

The two stand there for a second in suspended animation, their eyes locked on one another...but the tension dissolves as Chat slowly lets her go. His hand ghosts along the small of her back in the process, and it’s all she can do to suppress a shudder.

Marinette can feel her cheeks flaming once more. Did I really almost do what I think I was going to do? Get a hold of yourself, Dupain-Cheng.

For Chat Noir, however, the moment has clearly passed, and he’s back to his impromptu physics lesson. Clearing his throat, he points to a young man in the distance who’s walking down the street. “Anyway, um, let me try to give you an example of what I was talking about. I’m no expert, but let’s suppose, for the sake of argument, that that guy down there is walking home from a friend’s house. If you were to apply the Many Worlds theory, at this exact moment, in another universe, that same guy has chosen to stay overnight at his friend’s place instead. And in another universe altogether, he never went to his friend’s place at all, and is still at home.”

Marinette's brows knit together as she endeavors to concentrate on conversation instead of what happened less than twenty seconds before. “None of these sound like universe-altering events, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, but could they be? We live in a reality where every event that takes place at any given moment has the capacity to shape our future. If we accept that, then it means there are a multitude of worlds that exist depending on all the possible outcomes for each event. It’s like a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure kind of thing, except that all the endings are realized at the exact same time in parallel universes.”

The furrow in Marinette’s brow deepens. “You’re losing me, Chat.”

Chat Noir, however, refuses to let the subject drop. “Okay, let me use another example. What if, in another universe, a kid somewhere in Paris has forgotten to brush his teeth tonight...which leads to him getting in trouble with his parents, which leads to a temper tantrum...which leads to alternate universe Chat Noir having to battle some insane dental-themed akuma with Ladybug instead of getting to hang out with you? Our little Tooth Goblin - no, Molar Bear - has just ruined other-Marinette’s evening,” he laments with a tsk.

Marinette can’t help the chuckle that escapes her. “Never mind what I said about Einstein. You’re clearly just nuts.”

Chat Noir throws his hands up in the air. “But there are so many possibilities, Princess! And it just got me thinking...what if there is a universe out there where there I’m a different kind of Chat Noir? Where some tiny decision, possibly not even made by me, has had the power to alter my reality as I know it in this world?”

Marinette winces at the question, suddenly paralyzed by the memory of a white-suited cat sitting alone on a rooftop, gazing at the drowned ruins of their beloved city. A distant voice echoes in her ear as she stares at the unblemished moon.

“It was our love that did this to the world.”

“I try not to think of that kind of stuff,” she says at last.

“Why not, though? I mean, I know it’s deep quantum physics stuff, but it’s also really fascinating. It just kind of makes you think about how nothing is insignificant, you know what I mean?”

Nothing is insignificant. Not even a scribble of pencil on a present.

Marinette turns away from the railing and sinks back down to the ground with a little sigh. She knows their conversations have the tendency to delve into peculiar topics, but this one is the most confusing yet - for reasons that have nothing to do with physics.

Still, she can’t bring herself to dampen Chat Noir’s enthusiasm by cutting him off. “I guess,” she concedes. “But what would be that ‘one thing’ you’ve got in mind? Are you wondering what life would be like in the universe where you never became a superhero?”

Chat smirks. “Never. I was clearly born for this,” he quips.

You insufferable, adorable kitty, she thinks, a smile tugging at her lips despite her inner turmoil. “Yes, but you did say that we’re talking about infinite possibilities, so there’s got to be at least one universe where you’re not saving Paris.”

“Then I feel sad for the citizens of other-Paris,” he sighs dramatically before flashing her another grin. He drops down next to her, swiping the last cookie off her plate in the process.

“Hey!” Marinette chides, but there’s no heat in the rebuke. In truth, she’s happy for a break in the conversation, embracing the opportunity to retreat into more comfortable territory. Just her and her Kitty, fighting over cookies on the roof like they always do.

Or did, before things got so confusing. Before one look from him was enough to make her heart leap in her chest.

Chat looks back at her, his gaze earnest. “That whole physics lesson did actually make me think of something else, too,” he says thoughtfully. “Something a little more...personal.”

Marinette feels her stomach flip once again. “Like what?”

“Like...us.”

Her response is more of a squeak than a question. “Us?”

Chat rubs the back of his neck, his expression sheepish. “Yeah. You and I, we’re pretty good friends now, right? I mean, we’ve been hanging out together a lot more over the past few months.”

Marinette thinks of nights spent drinking hot chocolate and observing the city lights, talking about everything and nothing. Of little arguments over who gets the last macaron. Of confessions - more hers than his, of course - about the things that excite them, energize them, frighten them. She’s enjoyed these little glimpses into Chat Noir’s more sensitive side, and wouldn’t give them up for anything.

But somehow, the word friends sinks like a stone in her gut.

“So...you’re wondering what would have happened if we hadn’t become friends?” she asks, hoping he doesn’t notice the disappointment seeping into her voice.

Chat runs a hand through his hair, scratching at his ears. “I’m not doing this right,” he mutters, more to himself than her. “More like, I wonder if we still would have become as...close...as we are now if circumstances had been different. Would we still be sitting here having this conversation if we were to remove a piece in the puzzle of our lives? Something like...when we worked together to take down Evillustrator.”

Marinette purses her lips at the memory. “You mean, when you offered me up as a human shield?”

“You wound me, madam!” he replies in mock horror. “If I recall correctly, I did save you in the end.”

“Um, only because I told you how to get us out of that cube.”

“Fair enough.”

Marinette shakes her head. “Anyway, I don’t think anything would have changed. It’s not like we knew each other very well back then."

“There's also that time before Glaciator showed up...that time you and I talked…”

“...after Ladybug didn't meet you,” Marinette finishes. “Yeah. I remember that.”

I was an idiot back then. I’m even worse now.

"I don't know if I ever told you this, but it really helped to have your company that night. It meant a lot to me," he admits.

Marinette pushes on, not wanting to dwell on the memory. "Even so, I wouldn't say that it was some kind of defining moment in our...relationship. Anyway, I’d like to think that no matter what did or didn't happen, we would have still ended up as friends," she says. "At least, I hope so. My evenings up here would be a lot more boring without you here to annoy me.”

The corners of Chat Noir’s mouth quirk upward. “Somehow I doubt that. You strike me as the kind of girl who could be friends with anyone.”

“I disagree. But anyway, it wouldn’t matter.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because none of those people are quite like you.”

Now it’s Chat Noir’s turn to go quiet. Marinette bites her lip, in turns self-satisfied and self-conscious at the effect her words seem to have had on him.

More memories filter in as the conversation lapses into silence. Marinette thinks back to the last time she heard a question like this. Another rooftop. Another rose. Another rejection.

He had asked Ladybug a similar question. “If he weren't here, would things be different between us?”

Of course she had said no. After all, her heart had belonged to Adrien back then. But how would things have been different if she had allowed herself to imagine loving Chat, instead?

“Chat Noir?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“Why are you really asking me this?” She’s not sure what kind of answer she’s looking for, but at this stage it feels like he’s just dancing around the point, and she’s getting tired.

Tired of feeling so confused, so conflicted, so cowardly. Tired of wishing things really were different.

Chat shrugs. His reply is careful, quiet. “I guess that whole multiple universes theory made me feel like maybe, if I’d done things differently...if I’d realized certain things sooner...I’d be in a different place than I am now.”

“Realized what things?”

“Feelings, mostly.” A beat passes. “Did I...did I ever tell you I was seeing someone?”

A pang of jealousy strikes at the reminder. “You didn’t, actually.” It’s the truth, but only just. Chat Noir may not have told Marinette, but he had told Ladybug.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter, because I ended it. A few months ago, actually.”

Marinette nearly chokes. “You did?”

“Yeah. I dunno, it just didn’t feel right. Maybe it never did, to be honest. But all that talk of infinite possibilities got me wondering. If I hadn’t fallen for Ladybug first, maybe this all wouldn’t be so complicated. That I wouldn’t have ended up hurting this one girl’s feelings because I was confused about my feelings for someone else.”

“You mean, you still have feelings for Ladybug?” A spark of hope flickers in her chest at the thought.

Chat Noir snuffs out that spark with his reply. “No, someone different. I’ve already accepted the fact that I’ve got no chance with Ladybug.”

That’s not true, Marinette wants to say, but she holds back. It would be selfish, dangerous, even, to venture into that territory. And yet, she can’t help but feel sympathetic. After all, she can completely relate - that’s exactly how things had gone with her and Adrien. She’d even tried dating Luka - which, while not something she’d ever say she regrets, simply never felt right enough to turn into something more serious. When it had ended, she’d felt sadness - but also, relief.

Chat had been there to help her through her break up, and for all the time since.

Which is why Marinette also finds herself feeling ashamed by a blaze of jealousy that’s flared inside her for the second time in as many minutes. If it’s not Ladybug, then who the hell is this ‘someone else’ he’s talking about?

Marinette picks at a thread on her black and green pajamas. “You know, considering that we’re friends, I’m surprised you’ve never mentioned either of these people," she mumbles.

Chat laughs humorlessly. “You probably wouldn’t know one of them, anyway. But the other…”

She perks up. “It’s someone I’ve met?”

“It’s...someone who used to have feelings for me,” he says.

Marinette’s breath hitches. Where is he going with this?

Chat rambles on before she has a chance to ask. “You know, what's funny is that when I was younger, I used to pull this stupid asshole move with Ladybug, where I'd mention someone else and see what her reaction was like - you know, to see if she'd get jealous. And maybe she sincerely was happy for me, or maybe she knew I wasn't serious, but she'd always say, ‘That's great news!’  when I really just wanted her to fight for me. Looking back, it was a shitty thing of me to do.

“But now...I don't know, but things have been different lately. I'm pretty sure she's still in love with this other guy, but there's something up. So it makes me kind of worried to tell her that I'm really trying to move on, and that there's someone I want to move on with...someone I think I've been falling for ever since I met her, but have just been kind of blinded by this infatuation I've had for Ladybug. But I don’t want to hurt Ladybug by talking about someone new. And it makes me worry I’m making a mistake even thinking about dragging this other girl into this mess I call my love life. She’s just so incredible, and I’ve already hurt her before, and....I just don’t want to be that guy, you know? To either of them.”

Marinette finds herself fighting back tears, desperate to tell him he’s got it all wrong. It would be so easy to fix everything simply by telling him who she is, wouldn’t it? That is, after all, what she’s been psyching herself up to do for weeks now.

Just do it. Forget this other girl he’s talking about and do it.

But one glance at the forlorn expression on Chat’s face, and she knows she can’t.

Marinette pats his arm. “I'm sure she - Ladybug, I mean - will understand,” she says as brightly as she can. “Who's the lucky girl, anyway? No never mind, don't answer that, I'm sorry, I-”

“It’s fine,” he says, but his expression is pained. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for things to get all heavy and depressing there.”

Her heart lurches, wishing she could ease his discomfort despite the hurt she feels inside. “It’s okay. I’m here for you. We’re friends, remember?”

“Yeah. Friends," he parrots back. Chat looks away with a sigh.  “It’s getting late. I should probably get going.”

A deep seated exhaustion - at the day, at this conversation, and all the feelings she’s been trying to hold back - suddenly weighs on her like a ton of bricks. “Yeah, I should probably be heading to bed.”

“All right then.” He stands, extending a hand to help her to her feet once again. “Good night, Marinette.”

She gives him a small smile. “Good night, Chat Noir.”

With one last look, Chat Noir takes off into the night. Normally, she’d watch until he’s out of sight, but it’s all too much. She hurries into her room, flopping onto her bed as the tears start to fall.

A little voice calls out in concern. “Marinette?”

“What do I do?” she cries, burying her face in her hands. “Should I have done something differently? Should I have told him? Tikki, I really thought I was going to tell him this time!”

The tiny red kwami nuzzles against Marinette's cheek, urging her to look up. “You’re the Guardian,” Tikki says sagely. “You get to decide what’s right. If you really feel like it’s the right thing to do, then it’s your choice.”

“Maybe it’s just not meant to happen,” she sniffles. “After Chat Blanc...maybe that was a sign.”

Tikki flies away, returning a moment later with a couple of tissues. “Marinette, you can’t let your fear of some other timeline keep you from following your heart! You don’t even know how it happened. Besides, you’re older now. Think about what Chat Noir said. Infinite possibilities...who’s to say that the outcome you saw with Chat Blanc would be the same?”

Marinette sits up, accepting the tissues with a weak smile. But Tikki's efforts to comfort her, however welcome, simply aren't enough to calm the torrent of emotions she's kept bottled up until now.

She thinks about this evening, and wonders if there is a universe out there where she actually had the courage to do what she’s been wanting to for so long.

Marinette lets out another sigh. “I just don’t know anymore.”

An insistent tapping sounds on the glass above them, interrupting their conversation. Tikki flies under the pillows for cover. Curious, Marinette stands up to investigate. She barely has time to lift the latch before Chat Noir reaches in, lifting her through the skylight and depositing her on the balcony.

Shock floods her system at the sight of him. Marinette’s hands fly up to her face, clumsily swiping the tears away as she tries to figure out what’s so urgent that he’s behaving like this. “Chat Noir? What are you-”

Her words cut short at the touch of his hands on her wrists. Gently, he pries her hands away from her face. Marinette stands, frozen, as he reaches up to brush a lock of hair from her forehead, skimming his thumb over her cheek to catch an errant tear.

“I'm sorry for dropping in on you like this, but there's something I meant to do before our talk about physics got me sidetracked.”

The light thudding in Marinette’s heart increases to a full gallop. “Wh-what's that?”  She's barely able to get the words out, too focused on the way Chat's eyes seem to mirror her own sadness, confusion...and longing.

He doesn't say anything. Instead, he pulls her close with one arm.

And then he kisses her.

Chat's kiss is sweet, tender - coaxing a response rather than demanding submission. And respond Marinette does...though perhaps with more fervor that either of them could have anticipated. Recovering quickly from her initial shock, she finds herself kissing Chat back, her fingers winding their way through his blond locks as she presses herself impossibly close. She kisses him with everything she has, pouring out weeks, months, maybe even years' worth of repressed emotion with every slide of her lips against his. The only sign of Chat's surprise at her enthusiasm is the slight grunt he lets out before lifting her off her feet, his hands sliding beneath her thighs as she wraps her legs around his waist for support.

Marinette can barely think, consumed as she is by the passion of the moment. But one stray thought does cross her mind. If I never kiss this man again, at least I can say I showed him exactly how I feel.

The frantic, almost desperate heat of their kisses gradually drops to a low simmer. Finally, they come up for air, both sporting flushed faces and swollen lips as he gently releases his hold on her.

Chat Noir leans his forehead against hers, his breaths still heavy. “I'm sorry I left before," he rasps.

Marinette lowers her feet to the ground - but inside, she’s still floating. "It's fine," she breathes in reply.

Chat pulls away, his expression suddenly serious. "No. It's not."

He takes her hand, threading his fingers through hers as he presses her palm to his chest. Chat's eyes shine bright with emotion as his words tumble forth. "I was going to tell you, and then I screwed everything up and chickened out. But I realized - pretty much the second I left your rooftop- that I don’t want some alternate universe Chat Noir to be the one who tells you how he feels. I want it to be me. I don’t...I don’t want to wonder how my life would be different without you in it. And I’m tired of wondering what would have happened if Ladybug hadn’t brought us together, or if I’d never had feelings for her. I’m ready to let that part of my life go. Other Chat Noirs in other worlds can be the ones to find their way to her. But in this world...somehow, I found my way to you. And you’re the one I want. You’re my universe. It scares the hell out of me to be saying it, but it’s true. I love you, Marinette. I’m in love with you.”

Time seems to stand still as Chat Noir’s words take root in Marinette’s heart. He loves me. He’s in love with me. He’s giving up his old dream of Ladybug...for me.

It’s almost too good to be real. But the longer she takes in the beautifully vulnerable, hopeful expression on his face, all she can think about is how right this all is. How she can’t believe how long she had struggled against something that feels as natural as breathing.

I’ve been such an idiot.

Marinette gives him as stern a look as she can muster, ignoring the tears gathering in her eyes. “Just so you know, that quantum physics theory of yours is a load of shit.”

Chat Noir lets out a choked sound of disbelief. “Seriously? That’s your response? I’m pouring my heart out here, Mari.”

A watery laugh bubbles out. “I know,” she says. “And I love it. I love you.”

“What?”

“I said, I love you,” she repeats. “And I can’t believe you used a physics analogy to tell me what I’ve been trying to say for weeks.”

Chat leans in. “That still doesn’t explain why you take issue with the Many Worlds Interpretation,” he murmurs, his smile belying the seriousness in his voice.

Marinette reaches a hand up to cradle his face, relishing the tiny sigh Chat lets out as he leans into her touch. “I take issue with it," she says quietly, "because I know, in my soul, that there is no universe that exists where you and I don’t find our way to one another. Whether you fall in love with Ladybug, or me, it doesn’t matter, because...”

“Because what?”

She pauses, caught in one last flash of uncertainty. This is it. If she continues, there’s no going back. Concerns still linger at the edges of her mind. And questions - so many questions - about where to go from here.

But then she looks at Chat, smiling softly as he patiently waits for her answer, and Marinette knows that it's time. That it’s right. That, no matter what happens next, she wouldn’t have things any other way.

Slowly and deliberately, she speaks. “Because we’re a team. In this universe, or any other, it’s the same. You and me, against the world. Always.”

It takes a minute for her words to sink in, but the moment realization dawns is unmistakable. A flurry of emotions streak across Chat’s face: shock, surprise, confusion, relief, excitement…

...and finally, blessedly: joy.

Chat Noir’s eyes light up, his smile widening into a dazzling grin. “Always, huh? You seem awfully sure of yourself there, Princess.”

Her heart swells to bursting. Marinette tilts her head upwards, laughing against his lips.

“You know? I like it when you call me Princess. But I think I like it more when you say, My Lady.”

[sd1970x]

Asked to leave a server for the crime of *checks notes* being over 30 years old. I spared you all the part where they suggested all adults over 30 are potential groomers. This also came after I explicitly explained the vicious intersection between ageism and transphobia - namely, that I am “a man in a dress” that uses pro-trans sensibilities to get closer to teens.

this is *not* right in any way. but I left because *I* don’t feel safe around anyone who thinks they can attack people just because they lived this and that much years.

[sd1970x]

Why yes, I do.

reblog if you create queer content in the ML fandom

now all you homophobes have no excuse for commenting on queer content (not that you ever had any)

[sd1970x]

fuck instagram except for the lesbian couple i follow on there with two kids who got married 10 years ago as a “heterosexual couple” and then one night one of them came out as a lesbian and then the other one came out as a trans woman so they stayed together and now live their best gay life