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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Hawkmoth was a bitch, and Marinette meant that with every fiber of her soul. Fu was also a bitch, and Marinette actually had good memories of the guy. Not many, but she had some. The fact that the guy got two ten-year-olds to become super heroes and fight a supervillain for him kinda soured those memories, though. But with Chat Noir not allowed to leave his house? Yeah, even as young as they were it only took about a year to find out who HawkMoth was and another year to take him down.

Except, that left Marinette alone. The final battle took her mom away, and Chat had to move out of Paris after his dad was arrested. Luckily Jagged allowed her and her papa to move into his house in Gotham, and everything was…

Well, it was okay. For about a month.

Then her dad was gone too, and she had no way to talk to Jagged, and the police were scaring her—

Yeah, that was the basic order of events that led to where she was now. Pushing fourteen years old, ex-superhero, protector of a magical box of gods, stealing the tires off of a very nice motorcycle.

Marinette was tempted to just take the whole thing, she loved bikes and knew she could drive it. But the thing had more security than she knew what to do with, and the fact that it belonged to Red Hood… she didn’t want to deal with trackers today, thanks. So the tires it was.

Should she maybe care more about the fact that she was stealing from a vigilante with a violent streak? Maybe. Did she? Hell no. For all she knew, maybe Red Hood was a bitch too. (Yes, she was still learning English slang. She was fluent by educational standards, but learning how to curse in a foreign language was fun and she still had a little bit to go. Her few street friends were very happy to help).

A shadow dropped down in front of her, and Marinette’s hero instincts kicked in. The tire iron she was using cut through the air, slamming right into the side of Red Hood’s knee.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Hood,” Batman’s voice grumbled over the comms, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone else who was on the comms. It wasn’t as gruff as he usually sounded, in fact it almost sounded like… he was trying not to laugh?

“Did you get gassed by Joker?” Dick asked before Jason got a chance to respond. “Need backup?”

“No,” Batman responded, sounding a little more composed. “Not a rogue. But Hood, I need you to join me at my location as soon as possible.”

Finally getting the chance to talk, Jason responded a little warily; “Sure, B. Wait,” he blinked at the location that was sent to him. “Isn’t that where my bike is parked?”

Batman didn’t respond at first, only the sound of labored breathing— again, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Just get here, Hood.”

Sighing, but not too mad since the night had been fairly quiet so far, Jason decided to humor the old man and head over. When he could see the cape-clad back of Batman, he easily leapt over the last roof and sauntered over.

“Okay, B,” he had his thumbs tucked in his pockets as he drawled. “What’s the issue?”

Batman was grinning. As in, actually showing amusement. And he just pointed down, straight at Hood’s bike.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, turning to look. At first he didn’t see anything amiss, until he saw movement and looked harder. Oh. Oh, holy shit.

“Is that a kid?”

“Yep,” Batman’s grin grew.

“Is she… stealing my tires?” Hood was so, so glad he wore a helmet that hid his expression. Because… wow.

“Yep,” Batman finally lost his composure, chuckling. “This seems like Karma, don’t you think?”

“And you just watched her so you could rub it in,” Jason groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Of course he would. Nobody knew it (except the other heroes who knew him) but Batman was a petty little jerk when he wanted to be. He bought the whole Daily Planet just to spite Clark, for crying out loud.

“Don’t adopt her,” Batman said as he stood up, patting Red Hood’s shoulder. “It looks like she’s almost done.”

“Shit,” Jason hissed, looking down to see that she was, actually, very close to being done. She had already had one tire completely free by the time he had arrived, and now she was only seconds away from getting the other one completely free.

He took a quick assessment— she was tiny, and really thin. Definitely a street kid, he thought, though he didn’t recognize her. He knew most of the street kids that stole to get by, nowadays, which meant she must have been fairly new. But even though she seemed to know what she was doing, her small frame made her take longer unscrewing the tires than it normally would have taken. Sure that she wasn’t a threat by any stretch of the imagination, he jumped down. His plan had been to startle her a little by showing up out of nowhere, but he didn’t want to scare her too badly. Just make her jump a little.

But he had underestimated her, it seemed. Without wasting a second, she jumped up and swung her tire iron at his knee. He cursed, she was a lot faster than her had been expecting. He was able to move so that the weapon only clipped the side of his knee, his knee pad thankfully taking the worst of it. She still hit hard enough to make him stumble and hiss in pain though, which was an accomplishment.

That’s when she abandoned her weapon and her tires, darting to try and escape only for Batman to drop down and block her escape. Though really, it was the grin Batman had that scared the girl most of all, apparently, making her slowly back away from him.

“Please stop smiling,” she begged with a faint French accent to her words. “It is not natural.”

That made Red Hood laugh, already recovered and right behind her. He plopped a gloved hand on her head.

“I know, it’s creepy right?” He joked. “What’cha doin’ stealing my tires, kid? I kinda need them to drive anywhere,” he was careful to keep his voice light and devoid of any anger. He wasn’t really upset, all told. It would be hypocritical of him if he was.

She looked between the two vigilantes for a moment, clear intelligence behind those bright blue eyes as she seemed to consider something. Suddenly she pulled away from Red Hood and stepped away from his reach, straightening up and trying to look tall.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as firmly as she could. “My father was Tom Dupain, he was killed in a mugging three months ago. We were living in a house that our family friend leant to us after my mother’s death six months ago, and we moved here from Paris. I haven’t been able to contact him, and the police… I don’t trust them,” she admitted, clearly seeing this as the chance she had been waiting for. “I have been living on the streets since my father died. I am sorry for trying to steal your tires, Monsieur Red Hood. But it was a risk I had to take.”

“Did you expect us to catch you?” He asked, crossing his arms as he re-evaluated the girl. She was a lot stronger than he had assumed earlier, both physically and mentally. She seesawed her hand to indicate ‘kinda’.

“Even if you didn’t, I could make good money off your tires,” she justified with a shrug. “To me, I would win either way.”

“Who is your family friend? Can he help you now, take you in?” Batman asked, moving forward and kneeling down to be closer to Marinette’s height. Neither he nor Jason had missed the part where she was an orphan, but they had expected that considering what they had caught her doing. And they both knew that she wasn’t likely to take any apologies they tried to offer very well. It was best not to show pity, or she might get angry.

Marinette frowned. “... Our family friend is Jagged Stone. He lets me call him Uncle Jagged,” she told them, clearly expecting the disbelieving grunts they gave. “I mean it! You can call him, he might even be looking for me! I—“

“We know,” Hood assured her, now kneeling down as well. Man, she was short. “Calm down, we know you’re telling the truth. Jagged has made several public announcements about his missing honorary niece, we just didn’t recognize your name right away. And Jagged doesn’t have access to very many pictures of you, those he does have the Mayor isn’t allowing him to show because that spineless jackass—“

“Language, Hood.”

“—Cares more about keeping bad press off the air than finding a kid, even if it’s a world famous rockstar who’s asking. That’s probably why you haven’t heard anything, the mayor’s keeping it off the radio and not many reporters are brave enough to take the story and get on his bad side.”

“Oh…” Marinette took a deep breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to rise up. “He has been looking…” she sniffled, curling in on herself a little. “Can you take me to him?”

“I think we can do that,” Batman agreed, standing up. “I’ll contact him. Red Hood, can you handle everything here until I give you a place to meet up with Jagged Stone?”

Jason nodded. “No problem, B. Come on, little rabid pixie. Step one of gettin’ you back to your uncle is to help me fix my bike back up.”

Marinette sighed, shoulders dropping. “All my hard work, undone…” she playfully complained. But in the end she didn’t argue or fight against it, she just sat down and helped him reattach his tires.

All the while, Jason’s family kept teasing him over the comms. Clearly they were also thoroughly amused by the cosmic display of karma.

“...Monsieur Hood,” Marinette asked once they were done repairing the motorcycle and he had given her his too-big extra helmet. He tilted his head a bit to show he was listening. She squirmed. “Can… can we stop by my hideout? I have something really important I have to get.”

Jason smiles gently under his mask. She might not have been a street kid for very long, but she really did bring back some memories for him. He got on his bike and held a hand out to her.

“Sure thing kid. Wanna grab something to eat after? Can’t have a reunion on an empty stomach.”

She gave him a lopsided smile— not quite overjoyed, but definitely hopeful and thankful. Maybe this was the end of her streak of bad luck, she could only hope.

“Only if you don’t mind, Monsieur Hood,” she agreed before taking his hand and letting him help her onto the bike.

“No skin off my back, pixie,” he assured her. Then they were off. He followed her directions until they got to an abandoned building about three miles away, not in a good part of town at all but at least not in crime alley. Marinette easily led him through the building, skirting around other piles of ratty blankets and up broken stairs until they got to the badly-maintained top floor. She led him over to an almost invisible door in the concrete wall that pulled out to reveal what was probably a broom closet once upon a time. It was crowded with what looked like junk and empty boxes, along with a few blankets and two or three changes of clothes that were clearly her’s. A few belongings scattered around— a book, a small pink purse, and… Marinette came out of the pile of mess holding what had clearly been a very carefully hidden box. She also grabbed the purse and slung it over her shoulder, but didn’t seem worried about anything else.

Jason frowned at the box. It wasn’t that big, but it was clearly made of old wood. There were intricate carvings that were painted pink, in a symbol that was itching at the back of his mind. He recognized that symbol, but from where?

“Ready to go, kid?” He asked as he thought about it, getting a nod from Marinette. Twenty minutes later they were at a Batburger, sitting in a shaded booth that couldn’t be seen from the street.

She never let the box out of her sight. She kept it on the seat next to her, and Jason noticed that she tried to keep one hand on it at all times. But when she spoke, now her French accent stood out to him even more than before. But why—?

And then it clicked. Paris. Hawkmoth. Ladybug, Chat Noir, magic artifacts called Miraculous. Wonder Woman had raised a fuss when the heroes disappeared, declaring that something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Then the magic users they trusted were called in, and returned from Paris with the grim news that the former Guardian of those artifacts had activated a failsafe and passed the guardianship on to someone else while erasing his own memories at the same time. But nobody knew who he could have passed it on to, so Batman had been given the green light to do all the research he and his team could into the Miraculous box to try and help track it down.

And here it was. The carvings were in pink now, which might have been the “cosmetic change” that Constantine had mentioned might happen when the box changed guardians. He had found the box full of super powerful magical artifacts… in the hands of a newly orphaned street kid who couldn’t have been older than fourteen at best.

What the hell?

“...” Red hood reached into his pocket and pulled out an old receipt and a sharpie. He scrawled on the back of the receipt and handed to Marinette. The girl was halfway into a bite of her burger when he did, and blinked at him owlishly before swallowing and cautiously reaching out to grab it. She frowned at the numbers scrawled there.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“My contact info,” he explained. “I won’t ask questions about why you have that box,” he watched her instantly stiffen but continued as casually as he could; “but it doesn’t matter. You can call me if you ever need help with anything, kid. Help with that box, help if you get in trouble in Gotham again, or even if you’re having a bad day. You can call me for whatever, got it? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid, if you can’t talk to anyone else in your life you can always call or text me and I’ll do whatever I can. Got it?”

“...” Marinette sniffled for a second and looked down at the table in silence for a second. “... what if I want your motorcycle?” she joked, but the watery tone of her voice gave her away.

Jason laughed, patting her head. “I need my bike, but we can talk about getting you your own once you are old enough to get a license. You almost done? Bats says that Jagged is ready to meet you, I can take you to him right now.”

“Yeah, lets go!” she was newly energized and shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth greedily. “And Red Hood?” She asked as they headed out to where he had parked.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Permanent tag list (I remembered it this time!)

@rosalineandrosemary @neakco @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @trippingovermyfeet @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @bigpicklebananatree @fantasylover-92 @prongs-flowers @jumpingjoy82 @prettylittlebutterflie @queenz-z @literaryhiraeth @waffelyunsure @deathssilentapproach-blog @waiting247 @theirlmikan @unoriginalmess

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #soulmate-game #platonic jasonette

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ikehoe · 2 years

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Ikemen Prince Suitors' Reaction to You Having a Naughty Dream About Them [Part 2]

Characters: Licht Klein, Nokto Klein, Luke Randolph, Sariel Noir, Rio Ortiz

Rating: Explicit (SMUT – minors, do not interact!)

A/N: Part 2 is here! Click here to read Part 1 of the Ikeprince Headcanons (Jin, Chevalier, Clavis, Leon, and Yves).

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Ikemen Prince or any of the Ikemen series games. I’m merely an avid fan of being MC.

Licht Klein

Licht’s favourite moments with you were at night when you two were cuddled up together on his bed, reveling in each other’s warmth.

He often watched as you fell asleep, your eyes fluttering softly and mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest with each breath you took.

That’s why, when he hears you softly moan out his name in the middle of your slumber, his eyes widen, and he’s so taken aback he has to turn away from you just to catch his breath.

The next day, he shows you extra affection even in public, which is definitely not typical for the prince.

It’s when you two are in a carriage you finally ask him why he’s acting so differently that day. You don’t want him to force himself to act differently just because you enjoy affection.

“I… heard you moan my name last night, and now I can’t seem to get it out of my mind,” he responds, looking away with a faint blush colouring the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks.

“Oh…” You say, mouth gaping open in surprise.

“Will you tell me what you were dreaming about?” He asks, pulling you onto his lap in the carriage.

That’s how you ended up gasping for air as Licht’s fingers plunged into your core, relentlessly teasing your g-spot until white-hot pleasure spread all throughout your body.

“You’re so beautiful,” Licht murmurs in awe, mesmerized by your lustful gaze as you come undone for him over and over.

Nokto Klein

“Oh, Nokto… Right there,” you murmur, hips thrusting into the blanket on their own accord.

“Oh…?” Nokto says, eyebrow cocking up in interest as he watches your still-sleeping figure experience what was clearly an erotic dream about the man himself.

Most days, Nokto finds you absolutely irresistible. Still, when you’re at your most vulnerable, he has to nearly restrain himself from ravishing you every time he sees you.

He slowly turns you onto your back, making sure not to rouse you from your slumber, and lifts up the bottom of your nightgown, exposing your already dripping core to him.

Thanking the lords for his luck, he presses a few gentle kisses on your inner thighs before dipping his tongue into your folds.

He can’t help himself but thrust into the bed, seeking relief for his hardened manhood, when your moans start to get louder and louder.

Finally, your eyes open and meet the lustful gaze in his crimson ones.

“Sorry, love. Did I wake you up?” He asks teasingly, returning to that spot at the top of your core that had you throwing your head back in pleasure

Nokto ends up pleasuring you for the rest of the night, bringing upon your release again and again until the wee hours of the morning.

Luke Randolph

Luke is 100% baffled at the strange behaviour you’ve been exhibiting around him for the past couple of days.

Not only have you been avoiding him, but every time he’s cornered you, you’ve given him some clearly made-up excuse about how Sariel wants you to study foreign affairs or how you and Rio had plans.

Finally, he has enough and traps you between his arms after breakfast with all of the other princes.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” He asks, looking reminiscent of a kicked puppy dog with pain and confusion evident on his face

“I—I…” You stammer out, heartstrings tugging at the pained expression on his face. Finally, you sigh and admit to him the explicit contents of your dream that had you picturing Luke as a domineering and relentless lover.

“Oh…” He says as his usual carefree grin returns to his face

Unbeknownst to you, Luke ends up approaching Jin for advice on your sex life, and that’s how he ends up returning from town with a box of toys, including a paddle, feathers, a candle, and a blindfold.

Luke invites you to his room that night, and that’s when you find out about the young man’s foray into town.

He immediately captures your small figure in a crushing hug and nuzzles his head into your shoulder.

“If you wanted to play with me like that, you should have just asked!” He exclaims as if it were the most natural thing in the world

That’s when he shows you his secret box, and you almost regret it when hours later, the skin of your buttocks is raw and irritated, and your panties are absolutely drenched.

Sariel Noir

Sariel is known as the cruel and strict disciplinarian in the Rhodolite castle, but he has a soft spot for one person only, and that’s you.

That’s why he ends up letting you climb on his lap and nap after his regular Rhodolite History lessons, even reaching his gloved hand up to brush some hair out of your beautiful face.

“You’ve been working hard, huh,” Sariel muses to himself, a smile forming on his lips as you begin to softly snore.

A couple minutes later, he hears you moan his name in such a lustful tone that his slacks immediately tighten, and the wind is knocked out of him.

“Belle,” Sariel says sternly, rousing you from your slumber.

“O— oh! Sariel, did I fall asleep? I just had the weirdest dream about you….” You stammer, trying to look at anything in the room except for his stern gaze.

“Tell me what you were dreaming about unless you want to be punished,” Sariel says, arms wrapping around your body to keep you in place.

“I—I—”

“Too late,” he says, bringing out a large coil of black rope from the inside pocket of his cloak.

A few moments later, he has your hands tied behind your back and your ankles tied together, exposing your bare chest and sensitive nubs to him.

He begins to lavish your body with his tongue, ordering you to stay quiet lest you want to be edged for the rest of the day.

A lustful moan escapes from your mouth at the sensation of his teeth tugging gently at your nipple, and you know that you’re done for

Needless to say, it’s a long night.

Rio Ortiz

“Are you still awake?” Rio calls out, eyes lighting up in excitement at the prospect of seeing you. “I’m coming in! Prince Yves gave me a couple of chocolates as a thank you for helping him out with something, and I wanted to share with you!”

He bursts through the door of your bedroom and is about to call out your name when he realizes with a start that you’re already in bed.

He immediately falls silent and approaches your bed, smiling softly at the tranquil expression on your face.

The soft flush on your face has him absolutely mesmerized, and he’s suddenly pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your voice.

“Oh, Rio… I love you,” you murmur, slightly slurring your words in your sleep.

With a gasp, his sky-blue eyes widen, and his heart begins to race at your words.

No, she probably said something else… there’s no way… is there?

He leaves your room in a hurry, heart soaring at the prospect of his unrequited feelings of love towards you being returned.

The next day, Rio is extra clingy to you, following you everywhere and even shooting Prince Clavis a murderous glare when he attempts to cajole you into another game of Let’s Prank Yves.

“Rio, what’s going on with you today?” You ask, failing to conceal your amusement at your friend’s actions. “You’ve been especially protective, even for you.”

He takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself for the inevitable heartbreak that was to come, and then immediately chickens out and ends up saying that he feels unwell.

Later that day, you visit Rio in his room with a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup and some green tea, hoping to nurse the pretty blonde back to health.

Seeing the tray in your hands, Rio immediately tears up and jumps out of bed, nearly causing you to drop everything on the tray.

“I am so sorry for worrying you and for lying!” He exclaims, grasping both of your hands in his large ones.

“Lying?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. You quickly put the tray on his nightstand, trying to avoid an unnecessary mess.

“I… wasn’t telling you the truth earlier… I know you’re Belle now, and I promised you I’d be here to support you no matter what, even if you fall in love with a Prince, but truthfully, I think it would kill me.” He starts, eyes tearing up at the thought of you marrying another man. “I’m still in love with you.”

“Oh, Rio. I’m in love with you too,” you respond, watching as the most radiant smile slowly appears on the blonde’s face. “Will you let me show you how much?”

You and Rio end the rest of the night in a passionate entanglement of limbs.

His one goal in life is to please you, and please you he does, repeatedly until you feel like passing out from the pleasure.

#ikeprince headcanons #ikeprince headcanon #ikeprince #ikemen prince smut #ikeprince smut #ikepri nokto #ikepri licht #ikepri sariel #ikepri rio #ikepri luke #ikemen prince smut fic #ikemen prince #ikepri fic #ikepri #ikemen prince fic #ikepri smut headcanon #ikepri smut #ikemen series

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artzee-bee · 3 years

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End of all things [2] | Chat Noir x witch!reader

Fandom: MIraculous Ladybug (Adrien Agreste/ Chat Noir)

Request:”Hello good evening, could you please do where a witch!Reader who always tries to comfort Chat/Adrian when he is feeling down. Cuz you know in season 4 I noticed he’s getting sadder and sadder. The reader doesn’t like to get involved in all these weird happenings and just lay low. Whenever Chat/Adrian comes to the reader’s house they always make him feel at home. That's when things go off, at the final battle where Hawkmoth got the Miraculouses and the heroes thought they would lose. (Y/n) just landed in front of them looking so done with Hawkmoth.Hawkmoth thinks that (y/n) was just a weakling, but he was wrong. (Y/n) is far stronger than Hawkmoth even he will use the all Miraculouses he’ll still lose.”

Genre: Angst

Warnings: canon typical violence

A/N: It is incredibly late right now, I hope this piece makes sense and that you like it! It was a cool request, but complicated for sure :))

Part 1

~~~

You could have sworn that time stopped altogether at that moment. Somehow, even though the disappointment of having lost and the worry you felt for your best friend, you found a little power to look at Hawkmoth. You expected him to be joyful, restless! You expected him to have already put on both the miraculouses and yet, they were resting in his palm. His eyes weren’t even on them.

“Adrien?” he looked at the broken boy on the ground

“We’re not over yet!” he yelled, running towards Hawkmoth as fast as he could, but it didn’t matter how much will to fight he had anymore! Adrien’s body was going numb. It was giving up on him. And Hawkmoth was gaining more power and energy with every second that went by. The villain grabbed the boy by the shoulder, immobilizing him to his chest, the same way you had done with Marinette

“You are weak and powerless without your ring, boy. Stop it at once!”

“No!” the desperation in his voice made your heart crumble

You felt Marinette stir in your hold. You knew she must have been awake and watching by now, but you didn’t let go. You had been unable to protect Chat from losing his powers, from wasting his energy by squirming in the arms of the enemy. You’ll be damned if you let anything happen to Ladybug now! Because even if this was the end, even if they’d never get their powers back, Marinette and Adrien will always be Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Tears fell from your face as you watched your friend kick and scream in fear and frustration. His hair was sticking to his forehead with beads of sweat

You weren’t sure what you could read within Hawkmoth’s facial expression, but you could tell it wasn’t the confidence from a minute ago. Neither the focus. You could still do something! Under your breath, you began to mutter a chant. You had never tried this specific spell before, but there was nothing left to lose. It was supposed to attract an object of your choosing, to you. Focusing on the image of the miraculouses, held captive in Hawkmoth’s iron grip, you prayed it’d work.

“I don’t want to have to kill you Adrien!” finally, the boy managed to escape and take a few steps back

“What do you care? Just a moment ago you would have done anything it took to get rid of me and Marinette!”

Hawkmoth turned around to face you almost instantly, noticing the movement of your lips.

“Stop that!”

You saw his fist tighten and shake slightly. His fear was all the motivation you needed! Your chants grew louder and louder, more confident and powerful. Hawkmoth placed both his hands around the jewelry in an attempt to prevent it from reaching you. Finally, there was a chance you could still win this!

And then there was a hand on your mouth.

And a kick on the inside of your knee.

You fell to the ground in pain, as the person behind you pushed you harder against the concrete. Right then, was the first time you heard Marinette say anything that day.

“Rena?” her voice broken with despair

“I've never akumatized a hero before” you heard Hawkmoth’s taunting laugh “Can you imagine the possibilities Y/N?”

Tears were brimming in your eyes. Rena was forcing you to the ground with all her force. You heard Adrien call out your name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You had to find a way out of this but exhaustion was catching up to you quickly. You weren’t used to fights! You weren’t used to such powerful spells within such a short period of time!

With all the strength in your body, you focused again on an imaginary spot, in the middle of it all. You closed your eyes and imagined the ball of energy growing bigger and bigger, somewhere between you and Hawkmoth. Winds picked up speed around you. You opened your eyes slightly, and all you could see was Marinette’s horrified look, but you didn’t care. Not anymore. As long as you were still conscious, the fight would go on. The ball of energy went off again, creating the same bomb effect as in the beginning of the fight. Rena flew off of you, allowing you to move just in time to see Hawkmoth fly into a tree, and drop not only the black cat and ladybug miraculouses, but the butterfly one as well.

It seemed like the magic brooch had come undone from the impact. All 3 jewels fell to the ground and Hawkmoth was swallowed by a purple light. As the detransformation came to an end, all that was left was an unconscious Gabriel Agreste

“Dad?” Adrien’s voice felt like a punch in the heart. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. His eyes turned almost red and he took off running after his father, but you were faster and caught up to him before he could reach Gabriel. You tackled him to the ground to prevent him from waking up the villain and possibly causing more chaos.

“Wait, Adrien, we need the miraculouses!”

“No, what I need is to talk to my DAD!”

“Adrien please!” you could barely manage to keep him from squirming underneath you

“Of course” Marinette replied slowly before holding out her hand. You let go of Adrien, but he didn’t get up. He just placed his right hand on top of Marinette’s, as she carefully slipped the ring on his finger, back where it belonged.

You heard rapid footsteps come your way and saw Marinette run towards the miraculouses, picking all of them in her hand and hugging them to her chest.You couldn’t even imagine the relief she must have felt! She looked like finally, everything in the world was right again. It gave you hope! Adrien visibly relaxed as he watched her too.

“Can I have Plagg back?” he sobbed

Plagg flew out, looking sacred and in distress, but he tried to smile for his boy.

“I’m sorry Plagg.'' the kwami didn’t say anything, choosing instead to nuzzle himself in the crook of Adrien’s neck, in a hug. The boy placed his hand on top of him and began to sob quietly. Your heart sank at the sight and you couldn’t help but let yourself fall on top of Adrien again and wrapping him in another hug. You could hear every beat of his heart and every sorrowful tear rolling down his cheeks. The noise was so loud, you almost didn’t hear Marinette transform back into her heroine self.

You opened your eyes to see her tying up Gabriel, alongside Rena. She gave you a nod, letting you know they got it from here.

“Adrien?” Gabriel whispered slowly. It seemed like he had finally woken up. The boy beneath you slowly raised his head to meet the glance of his dad. Immediately, he pushed you off in order to run to him

“Father. It’s ok! It’s gonna be ok! It’s a misunderstanding, isn’t it?” Adrien ran to him, hopefulness in his voice like he didn’t know he was merely kidding himself

“I did it for a good cause Adrien…”

“No...you didn’t” he insisted

“One day you’ll understand”

Adrien stepped away from the weak body of his father, suddenly horrified at the realisation that Hawkmoth was, indeed, no one other than his own dad. He turned around to see you and Plagg still on the ground where he left you. Tears were quickly making their way back into his eyes as he rushed to you, throwing himself into your open arms. Ladybug picked Gabriel up, and dragged him away, with Rena right on her tail.

Adrien’s cries were muffled by your hair, but his words were still audible, at least to you

“He was my father! All this time”

“I failed everyone”

“No you didn’t Adrien”

“You didn’t know”

“I let myself be vulnerable and gave him the opportunity to take away my miraculous! I could have lost Plagg forever! I let Ladybug down! She lost her earrings and got akumatized and I couldn’t do anything about it!”

“Stop Adrien. It’s ok. It’s all gonna be ok” you tightened your grip around his body “eventually…”

#adrien agreste x reader #adrien agreste #adrien agreste imagine #adrien agreste angst #chat noir #chat noir x reader #chat noir imagine #chat noir angst #mlb #mlb x reader #miraculous ladybug

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pftones3482 · 3 years

Text

One of the commissions I'm doing for @randomfandomfan ft Hurt/Comfort Adrinino. Find it on my AO3 here.

Set post Rocketear and pre any kind of romantic relationship (tho it's hinted at). This was already a fic I wanted to write, and one of the prompts they sent me fit the concept almost perfectly, so I ran with it.

Under a cut for length.

“It’s your fault.”

Nino jumped about a foot in the air, whirling from where he’d been shutting his door with his phone pointed menacingly at the source of the voice. His backpack smacked him in the hip, knocking him off kilter, and he stumbled, bracing himself on the doorknob. His eyes scanned the room slowly, shoulders easing when he didn’t spot anyone. “Hello?”

“What are you, dense, kid?” scoffed the voice again, from right in front of him, and Nino squeaked at an embarrassing pitch when he registered the Kwami floating there.

The Kwami.

A black cat Kwami.

Nino dropped his defensive (if somewhat undignified) stance, staring at what was definitely Chat Noir’s Kwami. “Um. You’re not supposed to be here.”

The cat’s eerily green eyes rolled. “Wow. Intelligent.”

Nino spluttered, feeling awkward. “W-Well I’m sorry, dude, how do you expect me to react!” he demanded, throwing his hands up in the air. Something like ice settled in his gut as the Kwami’s existence finally clicked. “W-Wait, why are you here? What happened?”

“You happened,” the Kwami snapped, and uh. Okay. Not what Nino wanted to hear right now.

“What?”

“YOU. Do you have any idea how much you upset him? How much you hurt him the other day? He won’t say it, Nino, but he’s hurting. He’s been hurting, and you unloaded on him and beat him and told him how awful he was and if you weren’t his best friend and I didn’t think you were the only one who could help right now, you’d be in a pile of rubble.”

Um.

Holy shit.

Nino had never heard a Kwami so pissed. Wayzz could get a little condescending sometimes, and Ladybug had admitted that her Kwami could be a little snarky (as could Trixx, as Alya had confirmed time and time again). But never had he seen a Kwami literally shaking in rage.

He’d be more terrified if the cat’s words weren’t sinking in.

“Hang on, hang on, dude,” Nino said, crossing his arms in an “x” through the air. “Is this about Rocketear? I apologized, I-I thought me and Chat were okay. Also like, I respect the guy, but he has no idea who I am, dude, we’re not best friends.”

“Had,” the cat spit out. “He had no idea who you were.”

Nino’s stomach swooped out from under him and he gripped his desk chair tightly to keep from tripping. “What?”

The Kwami gave him a smug, if not irritated, smile. “You told him yourself.”

“D-During…when I was fighting him?” Nino squeaked. “N-No, I saw the footage, I didn’t tell him I’m Carapace!”

The cat softened. “Before, Nino. Before you were akumatized.”

“I didn’t-”

“Of course, when Ladybug appears, he throws himself to her feet with roses and love confessions!”

Fuck.

“But he is always rejected, because Ladybug thinks that he’s annoying. And she is COMPLETELY right!”

Oh, fuck.

“I know because I’m also a superhero. I’m Carapace.”

“Shit.”

Nino fumbled for his desk chair, sinking into it hard and banging his elbow on the back. The pain was almost numbing. He put his head in his hand, pushing his hat back off his head and staring blankly at the wall.

“Oh my god, dude, I-?”

“Yeah.”

The Kwami sounded almost sad this time, and that, somehow, was worse than him threatening to kill Nino.

He didn’t really remember being akumatized, until the end, when Alya broke him from Shadowmoth’s hold. And despite warnings from his friends, he’d watched the footage from his akumatization. Even without Alya recording, someone usually was, and the footage was always online by the end of the day.

He knew what he’d done to Chat Noir.

He’d seen the way he dropped his baton, a sign of surrender. The way Rocketear hadn’t hesitated to push him back with everything he had, pounding him again and again and again into that van, how he’d grabbed him by the head and slammed him backwards like-

“Nino!”

The Kwami’s paw was gentle on his wrist and Nino shuddered, scrubbing at his eyes furiously and dislodging his glasses. “Oh my god, oh my god, where is he?” he choked out. “I-I need to find him right now, Kwami dude, I-I can’t believe I-”

“Plagg,” the Kwami offered, his scratchy voice easing Nino from his panic. “And it wasn’t you, kid.”

“B-But it was, that’s the worst part,” Nino whispered, standing and pacing now. “I hated him, I hated him so much I – oh my god, he tried to tell me.” He laughed, bitter, holding his hands together behind his head. “He tried to tell me Alya and Chat didn’t have a thing and I-”

“Nino,” Plagg interrupted. “He’s on the roof.”

Nino stopped, blinked at him. “He’s what.”

Plagg nodded upwards, his antenna bobbing. “On the roof. Been there every night for the last week.” His voice lowered. “He wanted to talk to you, but he’s too scared.”

“He’s on the…he’s on my roof?”

Nino scrambled around his room, grabbing a jacket and an extra hoodie before reaching out, snatching Plagg, and shoving him into his hat. He froze a millisecond later. “Um. Please don’t cataclysm me for that, dude.”

Plagg’s chuckle was more like a purr. “Please. As if I’d need to use all that on just you.”

Nino supposed he should be insulted, but with everything he now knew, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was nearly one am – he’d been out late studying with Alya – so now he crept from his room and to the front door, hopeful not to wake his family. Grabbed his key off the hook by the entrance, and then eased the apartment door shut behind him.

It was only one flight up to the roof access, usually locked, but Nino had come up here with Alya more times than he could count, so he knew that if you wiggled the lock just right, it would come undone on it’s own. They’d oiled the hinges ages ago so that it didn’t scream every time it was opened, and now it was silent as Nino pushed it up and stared over the flat top.

Adrien was silhouetted in the moonlight, precariously close to the edge, and it made Nino’s breath hitch. He pushed the door all the way open and clambered up onto the roof as quietly as possible, easing the hatch shut again before turning back to his best friend and slumping.

Best friend.

God, how could he have-?

“You didn’t know,” Plagg whispered, gentler than Nino had expected him to be. The Kwami zipped from his hat, hovering in the air next to him, and he offered Nino a grim smile. “I might hate you a little right now for what you did to him, but you didn’t know, kid.”

Nino let out a shaky breath and started the trek over to his friend, fiddling with his extra sweatshirt. The night air was chill, and he was glad he’d brought it – Adrien was in nothing but short sleeves.

“All week, huh?” he murmured, watching as Adrien jumped a little, fingers tightening on the edge of the roof. “Could’ve just called, dude.”

Adrien twisted, lips parting. “How did you know I was-?”

His eyes landed on Plagg and a squeak slipped from his mouth as his hand shot to his shirt pocket. It wouldn’t have been funny if he hadn’t gone so pale.

So Plagg hadn’t told him he was telling Nino. Interesting.

“Y-You can’t-! You told-?”

“You’ve been here all week, Adrien,” Plagg snapped. “You weren’t gonna tell him, I was. You need a cheese in your corner.”

Nino had no idea what that meant, but he couldn’t stop staring long enough to care.

Adrien’s eyes were tired. There was no glint in them. The circles under his eyes were deep – he must’ve been wearing makeup to school, because Nino hadn’t seen them until now. His hands were trembling, his lips were bitten raw, and Nino felt his entire heart shatter.

“I am…so sorry,” he choked out, tears spilling over. Adrien jolted, turning his gaze from Plagg to him.

“Nino-”

“No, dude, no, I-I-I…I don’t care that I didn’t know. I should never have said those things, I should never have hurt you like that, oh my god dude, I hurt you so bad, I like could have killed you, a-a-and…”

He froze, reeling, and stumbled back. Adrien got to his feet warily, holding his hands up. “Nino?”

“You were gonna let me.”

He wanted it disproved, but Adrien’s flinch told him everything. His chest seized and Nino choked on his breath. “You were gonna let me, you would’ve fucking let me, you fucking asshole how could you? Do you have any fucking idea how much I care about you dude?”

He shoved Adrien without thinking, hands firm against his shoulders, pushing him back and away from the edge. Adrien’s eyes were wide, lip trembling, and Nino pushed him again, closer to the center of the roof, this time forcing the sweatshirt into his grasp. Adrien clung to it, lips parted, and Nino dragged his hands through his hair, pacing as Adrien shrugged the sweatshirt on. He’d left his hat downstairs, he registered somewhere in the back of his mind.

“Oh my god,” he choked out. “I-I…I’m so sorry dude. I’m so sorry, your dad, and then school, and modelling and your stupid model diet and then you’re a literal superhero and I’m supposed to be your best friend and I didn’t even…”

“You weren’t saying them about me,” Adrien whispered. “I know that.”

Nino spun to face him, vision blurry. “If you knew that you wouldn’t have been on my roof every night for the last week working up the nerve to talk to me. If you knew that you wouldn’t have thrown down your weapon and let me beat you to-”

He cut himself off with choked cry and he rushed at Adrien, clinging to him with a force he didn’t know he possessed. He cradled his friend’s head gently, heart sinking for a moment until he felt Adrien’s hands lift to settle tentatively on his back.

“I don’t hate you,” he whispered into Adrien’s ear. Nino swallowed, throat aching. “I don’t hate you, and I don’t hate Chat Noir. I was mad. A-And that’s not an excuse for what I said, and I’m so sorry. I’ve never hated Chat Noir, dude. He was always my favorite. I just…”

“You were upset,” Adrien finished, soft.

“Jumped to conclusions,” Nino corrected. “I was jealous of Alya keeping stuff from me, and I jumped to conclusions, and I hurt you, shit I-I hurt you, I-”

“I’m okay, Nino. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Nino croaked, tightening his grip. Something in him breathed easier when Adrien tightened his own back, harder, his shoulders starting to shake. “It’s not okay, I love you, dude. Don’t do that for me. Don’t ever stop fighting back when it’s your life at stake, I-I can’t…”

Adrien’s grip clenched in his hoodie and suddenly Nino’s neck was wet with tears. Nino carded his fingers through Adrien’s hair, turning his head just slightly to press his lips against his temple. “Talk to me, dude,” he whispered. “I’m here now, you don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”

“You can’t tell, Nino,” Adrien croaked. “I mean it, not even Alya. Y-You can’t. Promise me.”

“Hey.”

He pushed Adrien back, gentle, and cupped his cheeks, swiping away the tears on his skin. “I promise,” he said firmly, staring Adrien in the eyes to show he meant it. “This is too big to tell, dude.”

“You told me-”

“I trusted you,” Nino said, squeezing Adrien’s shoulders. “I was pissed, and I knew I trusted you more than anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t say anything. A-And I was wrong, dude. I shouldn’t have told Alya’s identity. Mine is one thing, but that wasn’t okay. But man, dude, you have it rough as it is, without anyone knowing you’re a superhero. I’m not telling, dude.”

Adrien swallowed, throat bobbing, and glanced behind Nino, where he presumed Plagg was floating. Plagg must have indicated something, because he slumped and gave a weak smile. “Thank you, Nino.”

Nino shook his head. “Don’t thank me. D-Don’t…not after that.”

Adrien’s hands were on his cheeks now, fingers freezing. “Hey. It wasn’t you. You might’ve been mad, but it wasn’t you. It was Shadowmoth amplifying those emotions, and you beat him. You beat him, Nino. I’m…so proud of you for that,” he whispered, voice cracking.

Nino pulled him in again, arms clinging to his back and his nose pressed into the hood of Adrien’s borrowed sweatshirt. “I’m proud of you too, dude,” he said. He felt Adrien’s grip tighten on his back. “No one ever says it. I’m proud of you. And I’m-”

“If you say sorry one more time,” Adrien croaked, laughter behind his tears, “I will personally dangle you off the Eiffel Tower by your shield.”

Nino chuckled and stepped back, tugging Adrien’s wrists gently. “Come inside,” he pleaded. “It’s cold out.”

Adrien glanced behind his shoulder, teeth worrying at his lip. “I should get home,” he said. “It’s late.”

“Then they won’t notice,” Nino said, pulling him a step further. “C’mon, dude. You’ve been by yourself for so long. I wanna hear about being Chat Noir.”

Adrien looked back to him, lips parted. The glint in his eyes was illuminated by the surrounding buildings, and something in Nino’s stomach twisted in a way he wasn’t going to question at the moment. “Really?”

“You kidding? Of course, dude.”

Adrien’s mouth slid into a tiny smile now, head tilting in that puppy-dog way only he could pull off. “Yeah. Y-Yeah, I’d like that. If you’re sure it’s-”

Nino knelt down and lifted the roof access cover, climbing onto the ladder and looking back up at Adrien with what he hoped was an inviting grin. “Dude. Just get inside already.”

Sneaking back in was harder than sneaking out, only because now he had another person in tow, but they managed to get back into his room without waking anyone (even after their quick excursion to the kitchen for a block of sharp cheddar, because Plagg was whiny). Nino shut off all the lights in his room except his desk lamp, leaving the soft glow to illuminate the corner and moving to his bed.

Adrien hesitated at the foot of it, fiddling with the sweatshirt strings on Nino’s hoodie (and Nino was ignoring how much he liked that image, that was something he could confront in the morning). “Um.”

Nino rolled his eyes and held out an arm. “Come cuddle, bro. And tell me about being the hottest bachelor in Paris.”

That got a snort from his friend, and Adrien crawled into the bed next to him, flopping against Nino’s side and leaning his head against his shoulder as Nino tucked an arm around him. “I thought I was the hottest bachelor in Paris.”

“Oh my god, you and your alter ego literally are competing for the same spot, that’s so fucking funny,” Nino cackled, keeping his voice low so he didn’t wake Chris next door.

Adrien chuckled and then fell quiet, and Nino traced a circle on his arm, feeling the mood shift. “Wanna talk about what’s been going on with you and Ladybug?”

“How did you-?”

“It’s pretty obvious when you’re working directly next to the two of you. And especially now that I know it’s my best bro behind the mask? What’s up?”

Adrien went still again, and then rolled over, pressing his face into Nino’s shoulder. “Can we talk about that tomorrow?” he mumbled. “I’d rather just…hang out, for now.”

Nino tightened his grip, focused on the ceiling, and tried to quell the racing thoughts in his mind. “Of course, dude. Of course.”

Adrien’s breathing evened out, and Nino had a feeling he probably wasn’t heading home anytime soon. He didn’t care, just shifted to put his phone and glasses on his nightstand and then rolled over to hold his friend closer, smiling thinly when he instantly clung back.

Plagg was curled up on the pillow above Adrien’s head, and his cat eyes blinked sleepily as he studied Nino. “Thanks, kid.”

Nino loosened a hand and reached up, scratching the cat on the head, fully prepared to lose a finger. To his surprise, Plagg just purred and nudged up into the touch. “Thanks for breaking the rules for him,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry I put both of you through that.”

“You’re a good kid, Nino,” Plagg said, yawning and curling his tail around himself. “Stupid, but good. Wayzz likes you for a reason.”

The Kwami went quiet and started snoring, leaving Nino to flush at the compliment, run his fingers through Adrien’s hair, and fall asleep with a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

#my writing #writing commissions #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #rocketear spoilers #plagg #miraculous ladybug #ninoir #adrinino

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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

Text

Okay so Angsty idea.

Luka gets called to be viperion again to fight an akuma. And sure enough they defeat the akuma but he screws up and lets slip her identity in front of her just as he was handing his miraculous back to her. (Not exactly being the best at lying) he tried to cover up that it was a slip up but Ladybug wasnt buying it.

He covered his mouth. But Marinette/Ladybug was not fooled.

"You knew." She mouthed, her voice barely audible.

Luka had seen Marinette upset, but this look in her eyes was something different.

He looked down.

"Yes. I knew" He confessed.

Ladybug was clutching her yo-yo. The grip looked liked it could crush the signature weapon of the heroine.

"When we fought wishmaker." She stated. She figured it out quickly.

"No one else..."

"You lied to me!" Ladybug shouted.

The musician tried to speak up but stopped as she continued.

"I trusted you to protect my identity and you lied about knowing." Ladybug spoke. "You lied right to my face!"

Luka felt his stomach crinkle every time she said that word.

"I chose you because I thought i could trust you, that if something did go wrong you would tell me! But you broke my trust!" Ladybug stated with her eyes welling up. This was such a betrayal to her. Luka didnt need to listen to her heart to understand that. He knew that he failed her.

"You dont know how much this secret meant... You dont know how dangerous it is..."

"Thats why I didnt mention it."

Ladybug looked at him.

"I could see how stressed you were! You are just a stressed teenager! I didnt want you freaking out over nothing. I said your secret was safe and it is! So is Chat noir's!" Luka answered back. "Yes I hated lying to you but it is what you needed."

Ladybug's earrings blinked and her transformation undone. Marinette's expression changed.... She was even madder.

"You dont know anything of what I need."

Luka matched her gaze.

"Maybe if you let me in earlier we could have..."

Marinette's eyes went wide.

"Are you serious right now?!"

Luka realized too late that now was not the time to talk about their failed relationship.

"I didnt..."

"No no, lets talk about THAT right now." Marinette anger was rising.

Her Kwami tried to intervene.

"Marinette... maybe this isn't the best topic to talk about."

"No, lets get this out of the way now. Lets air it all out." Marinette said as she shoved a macaroon into her kwami's hands for her to eat.

Luka was not prepared for the words to come.

"Our relationship was a mess."

"Yes because of..."

"Not because of the ladybug stuff."

Luka blinked at that. He was not expecting that.

"Oh sure me being Ladybug did cause me run out on our dates, hide that secret from you which resulted in your akumatization and our split. But even if it didnt, we wouldnt have stayed together that much longer."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Luka, I called you adrien on a phone call. I had forgotten about our movie date, Twice! I forgot you and Juleka shared a birthday until Alya changed plans from going to a movie with her to a party on the boat."

"Right because of..."

"I know Adrien's fifth names day."

Luka stopped.

"I could tell you Adrien's schedule for the next week down to the hour."

Marinette calmed down a bit.

"I know because I wanted to know as much as I could about him. I wanted to understand him better then anyone else. I never tried to do that for you. I dont think I ever could."

The words hung in the air for a moment. Luka was reeling from them before getting hit again.

"So me telling you may have delayed the inevitable, out of a sense of devotion, duty, loyalty maybe. But we both know who had my heart. Either you would have broken up with me because I wasnt willing to move on or I would have done it out of guilt. And if that did happen, I would have had solace knowing that you wouldnt have shared my identity out of anger."

The blue haired guitarist understood, the tone of her heart and her words were in complete harmony as she said that.

"But now I have no idea what to think of you!"

Luka felt that comment stab him in the back.

"Marinette..."

"You violated my trust. You destroyed any good memories I had of you! How can I know what you said was true? You claim to value the truth so much yet you lied to my face!"

Each word was another slash at his heart.

"I will find a new snake hero, someone I can trust. Good bye Luka." She turned away and started walking away.

Luka tried to reach out to her.

"Please Marinette... I am sorry."

Marinette stopped. She turned around, looking at him with an ice cold glare.

"If you ever cared about me, dont ever speak to me again and dont every get akumatized."

Luka watched as Marinette transformed and left him on the roof. Alone to process the exchange.

He knew he hated lying for a reason.

#ml ficlet #angst #lukanette angst #miraculous ladybug #ml spoilers #post wishmaker

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bisexual-thoughtss · 2 years

Text

Vince Noir x Howard Moon

This one is my first character x character fic so go easy on me. It was inspired by @trilobel’s Midnight Barber art, it’s so cute! I hope you like it!!

“I lean you up against the pillow and I go at you!” The echos of previous conversations bounce around Vince’s head, making him chuckle softly as he watches Howard grumble in his sleep and flip onto his stomach. He kneels delicately next to him, beginning another visit from the midnight barber. As much as he makes fun of Howard’s hair he loves the feeling of it slipping softly through his fingers, so different from his own coarse strands. He snips away, just trimming the ends a bit and tidying it up. He finishes what he can before gently pushing Howard over onto his back. He crawls onto his lap, sitting astride his thighs to get a good angle to start cutting the front of his hair. Luckily, Howard is the heaviest sleeper he’s ever met. He takes a moment to admire Howard’s face, the anxious and awkward energy he’s usually full of replaced by peaceful calm as he sleeps. He gets to work on the front, snipping here and there and evening out the length to the back. As he finishs the bangs and sets down his scissors, Howard stirs under him, stretching languidly like a content house cat. As his arms settle against his pillow, his vest rides up to reveal the little paunch of his stomach, surprisingly rather hairless compared to Vince. He admires the newly revealed skin for a moment, gasping as he’s jostled again from Howard’s movement. Blood rushes to his face as he feels Howard’s stiffy, a pleased hum coming from the man beneath him as his hips roll upwards. His brain cell is running round in a panic as Howard’s arms settle back at his sides, hands landing on Vince’s thighs with only the thin fabric of his kimono between them. Vince’s stomach drops as he realizes Howard is probably having a dream about some cute, jazzy girl who likes stationary and trumpets and-

“Mm, Vince,” Howard mumbles, hands squeezing lightly as his hips roll more insistently. And suddenly all the blood that’d rushed to his face was rushing elsewhere at the knowledge that Howard was, in-fact, dreaming about him. Howard stares up at him with half-lidded sleepy eyes, smiling goofily. His hands slide up to Vince’s narrow hips, using his leverage there to pull Vince against him, their lengths sliding against each other deliciously through their clothes. Vince can’t help himself, letting out a wanton moan. He can tell the exact moment Howard realizes he isn’t dreaming, his little eyes suddenly going as wide as they can get and his whole body tenses up.

“I- what are- uh, I don’t-“ Howard stammers, trying to come up with some sort of excuse before Vince cuts him off.

“‘oward, were you dreaming about me?” Vince smiles down at him, biting his lip. Howard’s brain chooses that moment to go offline, only able to take in the sight above him. Vince’s sheer robe is hanging off one shoulder, leaving that smooth, pale skin on display, just begging Howard to kiss it. His eyes follow the opening of the robe to where the loose tie around his middle is beginning to come undone, revealing the hard bulge in his colorful Y-fronts.

“Yes,” he mumbles sheepishly, his little eyes darting about, looking at anything but Vince’s face.

“Let’s make your dreams come true then yeah?” Vince smirks, rucking up Howard’s vest to feel the smooth skin underneath. Howard gasps, arching into Vince’s hands as they explore his torso, eventually pulling his vest off altogether. His fingers shake as he tries to untie the knot of Vince’s robe, prompting Vince to reach down and do it for him. Howard sighs reverently as the robe pools around Vince’s hips, his hands reaching out to touch. He smiles victoriously as Vince lets out a high pitched whine as he thumbs over his nipples.

“‘oward, please,” Vince groans, doing his best to shimmy out of his pants, but only really managing to slide them down his hips enough to get his cock out.

“Y’just gonna stare at it?” Vince laughs as Howard flushes, realizing that he was just staring. He reaches out tentatively, wrapping his fingers around and tugging. He wasn’t sure exactly how he was supposed to do it, but the little moans Vince was letting out felt like he was doing something right. Vince grunts, reaching over to his nightstand to grab a little bottle and drizzle some of its contents into Howard’s palm. Vince whines as he returns his hand, now sliding slickly over his hot skin. Vince wrestles Howard’s pants off his hips, not bothering to remove them entirely either. Vince fumbles around until he gets Howard’s big hand around both of their cocks, unable to stop himself from thrusting into Howard’s hand desperately. Howard is so unbelievably turned on from the sight before him that Vince has only gotten a couple thrusts in before he’s shooting off like a randy teenager. It should’ve been embarrassing, humiliating, but before Howard could even begin to spiral, Vince gasps and follows right behind him.

“I’m sorry-“ Howard starts before Vince cuts him off with a filthy kiss.

“Hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Vince praises between peppering kisses around his face.

“Really?” Howard asks, dumbfounded. That’s the opposite of anything he’s ever heard about sex.

“I ain’t ever made anyone shoot off that fast! That was dead sexy, ‘oward,” Vince smiles and flops down next to him in the bed. He tucks himself back into his pants and grabs Howard’s abandoned vest, wiping them both off and chucking it towards the laundry. Howard grimaces at this as he pulls his pants back up, but abandons the thought to worry about more important things.

“Vince, I- you remember what I said about- erm-” Howard mumbles as Vince makes himself comfortable, tucking into Howard’s side.

“Yeah, “once I cross the physical boundary, it’s forever, sir”,” he impersonates Howard, wrapping his arm around Howard’s middle and resting his head on his chest.

“Way I see it, I’ve just locked you in, you’re mine now,” Vince laughs, taking a peek up at Howard to gauge his reaction.

“Oh. Alright,” Howard smiles, burying his nose in Vince’s prickly hair.

“Awright?” Vince asks, confirming what they both really mean.

“Alright,” Howard confirms, gathering Vince up in his arms and giving him a squeeze, making him giggle. They had both nearly drifted off when Howard spotted the abandoned scissors on top of the nightstand…

“Were you cutting my hair!?”

#the mighty boosh #Vince noir x Howard moon #howince #vince noir #howard moon #the midnight barber #mighty boosh

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 2 years

Note

I think that the majority of characters in Miraculous have an unofficial trope that I like to call “immaturity reset”. Basically, child or teen characters in any given show will often start out being fairly immature in some ways, but through the events over a given arc or seasons of a show they will experience stuff and learn some life lessons that will make them more mature e.g. learning to take responsibility for something that they previously didn’t care much about. Immaturity reset happens when a character has learned a lesson that would make them more mature in some way, but then the writers force them to “reset” their attitudes back to how they were before they had that experience, effectively making sure that they stay the same character at the beginning and end of the episode/arc/season. It’s all done for the sake of the fact that having characters reliably make the same stupid immature mistakes is an easier plot device than not being able to use them again because a character ACTUALLY DEVELOPED AND GREW AS A PERSON and knows better now. What makes it such a poor writing trope is that it’s usually just done by the character shrugging their shoulders and going “oh well, it was just a one-off thing that doesn’t matter anyway so I choose not to change my mind/behaviour” no matter how big or traumatic the thing they just went through was. Or they use memory loss, which is just as gimmicky.

Chloe is definitely a victim of this, and she gets reset pretty much within the span of every episode she shows a glimmer of redemption in, but I think that Marinette is too. She’s supposed to have a lot more development going on, especially with the responsibilities of being the Guardian, but her attitudes towards her love life is really holding her back. By the time they got past the lucky-charm birthday gifts exchange with Adrien and introduced Lukanette I though she’d finally be less cringe around Adrien, but she’s still coming up with wacky schemes as an excuse to get close to him that are obviously stupid and risk people getting hurt. The Simpleman trailer was so hard for me to watch just for that reason. Adrien is also a victim in the same way. Season 4 feels like he’s constantly switching from “I don’t deserve to be Cat Noir and Ladybug doesn’t love me after all” to “I definitely still have a chance with Ladybug even though she rejected me 1000 times already because she said we’re a team!!!” His character/relationship development is a literal circle.

For me, what makes Miraculous harder to watch the longer it goes on is the increasing frequency with which they do these maturity resets. In other kid’s shows it’s usually a one-off thing they do with a bully sometimes. In Miraculous it’s becoming every other main character every other episode, which is cheap, repetitive and annoying. Two steps forward, one step back.

I could kind of understand this in Season 1, and maybe Season 2 as well, but after the writers decided to ignore the kiss at the end of “Heroes’ Day”, I started to lose my patience. Seasons 3 and 4 were when the show was getting more plot-driven, so seeing the status quo being continually reset made it harder to be invested. Even this season, they’re only taking baby steps in plot progression with minor details that don’t really change anything until the writers want to bring them up in future episodes, like Rena Furtive, Su-Han, and Luka knowing both Ladybug and Cat Noir’s identities.

Just remember, in an interview, Astruc every episode of Season 4 would have the impact of “Cat Blanc”.

I suppose what he told us was true... from a certain point of view. After all, “Cat Blanc” teased major plot developments only to be completely undone or forgotten by the end of the episode, just like every episode so far this season.

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x-reader-theater · 3 years

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Inspired by the @katytheinspiredworkaholic Noir AU mood board, Spencer dating Hotches or Alvezes younger brother in around 20's-40's era when it was still illegal. Hotch or Alvez (who ever you choose) would be some sort of important name in the city so obviously the reader would be too, being from a wealthy family. So it is especially hard for the reader and Spencer to sneak around kissing and stuff when everyone has their eyes on the reader. But one day the reader realises that fuck the others, he is wealthy and so known that no-one dared to mess with him anyway so reader and Spencer would publicly announce their relation ship.

(sorry if its too long of a request)

This got away from me a bit, I'm so sorry. I also made a moodboard because I was so inspired. This was soooooo much fun to write. I love me a good noir AU loll. Edited by @mystic-writes

Moodboard by Me

You laugh lightly as Spencer pushes you into the wall right outside of your bedroom, kissing down your neck and sucking right below your collarbone. You chose to have your top three buttons undone tonight, just for this very purpose. You wanted to entice, without making it known that it was your intention. You got a few ladies coming over to try and talk to you, much to your brother's delight, but you rebuffed every single one of them. They weren't who your heart was truly with.

You moan as you grind your hips against Spencer's and pant out, "We- uh- we should get inside. Before someone sees us."

"Let them," Spencer says, kissing your neck more. "Let them see us. I don't care."

You push Spencer away, holding him at arm's length, before saying, "I do. I care. Do you know what my brother would do if he found out who I shared my bed with?"

You look away from Spencer, who sighs. "Maybe I should go-"

"No, wait," you say, grabbing his wrist. "Please don't. Just, hold me tonight?"

Spencer smiles and kisses you.

–

"Hey! Little brother! Come to watch the show?" your older brother Luke asks you from his usual seat. He's the only one in the club, but that makes sense since the sun hasn't even set yet. You walk over and sit down next to him, and he leans over, whispering, "Isn't she a vision?"

he points to the obviously very beautiful woman on stage, with dark skin and black hair curled beautifully on her head. She's wearing a white rhinestoned dress with spaghetti straps and you think you see her pearly white heels underneath . She looks stunning.

"She's not my type," you say, leaning back and listening to her sing.

Luke hits your arm. "No one is! I swear, if Ma and Pa hadn't raised me to be such a gentleman, I would be kickin' the snot out of you to find out."

You snort when he says he's a gentleman, but cross your arms and ignore it. "I do have a type. You just don't know what it is," you snort, and look over at your brother, who's frowning at you. "You're not her type either." You nod to the woman on stage.

"What do you mean? I'm everybody's type!" Luke exclaims and the woman glares at you.

You snort. "She keeps looking over at Penelope at the bar, making sure she's watching. She's singing a love song, but the only person in the entire place that it's for is your bartender."

Luke's eyes go wide, and you smile and slap him on the shoulder, while the woman finishes her song. You give Penelope a wink as you exit.

–

That night, you walk into the club. No one's singing at the moment, but you met the woman, Tara, back behind the stage in one of the back rooms that had been converted into a dressing room for her. She's going to go on stage later, and you paid her something extra to make the first song a love song.

You were good for it after all.

You haven't been keeping up with the family as much as you used to, but you notice your brother doing deals every now and again, and you have to step in to save him from getting his ass beat.

You take a deep breath and walk into the crowded club, the low jazz coming from the band on stage. You walk over to the bar and order a gin from Emily, who smiles at you and takes it from your fingers before you can grab it. She points at one of the tables where you see Spencer, sitting with a woman, ignoring her flirting. You sigh and thank Emily, before going to the table with your drink, and sitting down on Spencer's other side.

"[Y/N]!" he exclaims, a grateful look in his eyes.

"Spencer! Good to see you," you say, clasping a hand onto his shoulder. You squeeze it and he smiles at you. "Who's your friend here?" You ask, gesturing to her, but you don't stop touching him.

"Uh, this is… uh…" he starts to say, but the woman frowns at him when he doesn't say it.

"I'm Lila. Lila Archer," she says. While you're in Chicago, most folks around here don't have any sort of accent. She however has a southern lilt to her words. She's blonde haired and blue eyed, and she looks incredibly uncomfortable in here, surrounded by both black and white folks. There was also the occasional Hispanic person in here, like your brother, but they are few and far between.

Your brother owns one of the only mixed race clubs in town, only because he was adopted into the family as a young boy. He has the money as a non-white to own and run a business. Helps that his "family" is a majority white as well.

Your grandfather was sent to Chicago from New York to make sure the city knew the Italians still ran the place. But, he likes to pick up a lot of strays.

Doctor Spencer Reid being one of them. No one quite knows what he's a doctor of, but he seems to be a doctor of everything. Medicine, the arts, mathematics, you name it, he probably knows it. It's one of the many reasons you fell in love with him.

"Miss Archer. I've never seen you in here before. Is this your first time visiting my brother's club?" You ask.

She nods stiffly. "That's right. My father wants to buy this place, but he can't seem to put in an offer big enough. Says he wants to rid the city of it's filth and reclaim it for the whites once again."

"Well, Miss Archer, as you can see, there are plenty of whites here tonight," you say, gesturing to the people seated at tables and getting drinks from the bar. "And I'm really hoping you don't share the same… convictions as he does, because otherwise, I might just have to get one of my people to throw you out of here."

You make eye contact with Morgan who's sitting at a nearby table and he nods at you, acknowledging what you want.

"I-" she begins to say, before she deflates. "I wanted to see what was so bad, all the voodoo and evil devil worshiping he says he's seen you folks doin'. But, y'all just seem like good honest people."

You smile at her and stand up. "I'm glad to hear it, Miss Archer. I think you'll find we're a lot more human than everyone makes us out to be." She smiles at you and you turn to Spencer, holding out your hand. "Now, my good doctor, would you do me the pleasure of joining me for a dance? Miss Lewis is about to start her singing, and I heard it's going to be *beautiful*."

Spencer grins and takes your hand. You drag him to the dance floor, where there's already a group of people dancing together, swinging them around their bodies, moving and shaking and laughing.

The music gradually changes, and while it does get slower and softer, it is by no means a slow dancing tune.

You start shaking your hips and kicking your legs and Spencer does the same. He spins you around, almost forcing you to go out and in, and it's perfect. The melody is beautifully sung by Tara, and you smile as your back is pulled to Spencer's chest. He loops his arms around you, and you look up at him, smiling.

He's looking at you with a quizzical look, as if saying, "You sure you want to do this?"

Instead of answering, you kiss him. He opens his mouth and you slide your tongue into his mouth, capturing his mouth in a wet and heated kiss. When you pull away, he has the happiest smile on his face.

You look over at your brother, who has the angriest look on his face, and you raise an eyebrow, silently saying, "Just try to stop me."

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid #luke alvez #noir au #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #my writing #my work

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boldlyanxious · 3 years

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Cursed Soul Bond

Jasonette July prompt 11: enemy mine

July masterlist

All fic masterlist

Marinette screamed in pain as Chat Noir turned her earrings over to Hawkmoth, promising her that everything would be okay. She could do nothing but freeze in agony as he removed his own ring and handed it over as well. Now before her, was her soulmate, Adrien Agreste. He had clearly figured out who she was without her ever knowing. She turned and watched his father, now revealed as Hawkmoth. Gabriel Agreste had taken off his broach in preparation for making the wish. He didn’t want to risk the other miraculous when he made his wish. It had to be the mix of the creation and the destruction to grant him his desire.

Marinette struggled and dropped fighting the grasp of her soulmate. She didn’t know how they could have worked together for so long and she never knew that her partner was her soulmate. But she couldn’t think of that now. She had to stop the man before he caused irreparable harm. A miraculous wish could not be undone. Nor could the effects. There would always be a price to pay. Adrien grabbed her again but he wouldn’t listen to what she was trying to tell him about what would happen. He was talking about his mother and how happy they would all be. He thought he had all the information so her warnings were all ignored.

Gabriel wasted no time waiting to see how the young couple handled the reveal or the betrayal. He donned the ring and the earrings and spoke the words. Time froze for a brief interlude as he made his wish. Marinette was aware that everything froze but she was unable to do anything else but know, trapped in her mind, as Gabriel controlled the ultimate power and was bestowed with one wish with no concern for the consequences.

When she returned, her soul mark burned on her arm. A searing pain that felt like it was ripping her away. Adrien looked stunned, watching as it flashed bright. His own brightened at the same time but he appeared to feel nothing. When the light faded, his mark did as well, leaving a patch of skin that looked untouched, no longer bearing any mark. He watched his former soulmate still in agony as the light went from shining to dark black. It was not reflective, it seemed to suck in all light.

Marinette dropped to the floor in failure. They had lost. She had lost. She had been betrayed by her soulmate and she had felt the bond tear away from her. It seemed to pull from every part of her body at once and left her weak. Adrien watched in shock, holding her until the agony ended. He seemed to feel nothing as his mark simply faded away. She could feel his arms lift her off the cold floor. She tried to pull away but her muscles didn’t cooperate. Everything felt so strange. Even being carried in his arms to the nearest fancy couch in the Agreste mansion felt numb.

He pushed her hair back from her face, it was matted to her sweaty skin. She was aware of shuffling nearby and was cognizant of Nathalie approaching with a cold cloth. She looked so worried as Adrien applied the cool cloth to her head. His hands felt so hot, like she was burning again. She shifted away from him. Her breath started coming in rapidly and she struggled to get away. She was so weak.

Adrien had backed away from her. He didn’t know how to react to her struggling against him and the sudden signs of sickness. Every few minutes he would place a straw near her mouth. The only feeling that helped at all was the cool water in her mouth and down her throat. She could not hear and could not speak. Her ears were filled with buzzing. She had no concept of time but suspected it had been an hour or so before her very worried parents showed up. As her dad carried her to a car driven by the Agrestes’ bodyguard, Adrien's hand held hers one last time as he passed her the peacock and butterfly miraculi as well as the jewelry that formerly held the powers for the kwamis of creation and destruction. They were now just symbols of her failure.

No one else seemed to know or remember about the threat of Hawkmoth. Gabriel had changed Paris and the world. Adrien said it was for the best. Now he had his mother and they still had each other. Marinette disagreed even though he begged and pleaded with her to reconsider. She would not even let him take her hand. She never wanted to see him again. Plagg and Tikki were the only ones she wanted to be with. Plagg felt responsible, and Marinette partially agreed with his assessment. He knew Adrien had a tendency to jump in with no consideration for the consequences and he had done nothing to temper that trait. Adrien didn’t know there would be a cost to the use of the wish because Plagg hadn’t mentioned it him when he already had so many other burdens in his life. That is why he didn’t feel the soul bond destroyed as she had. He didn’t know what he was doing was a betrayal even as it destroyed Marinette.

---

Nearly ten years had passed since Marinette had her soul bond destroyed. She had finished out her remaining school years in a small private school. She couldn’t connect with the others in her class anymore. She had been through too many things that they had no memory of. It was even a struggle to connect to her parents but they were loving and supportive even if they didn’t understand her sudden change. She suspected they thought Adrien or his father had done something to her. She couldn’t explain what had happened. So they harbored an anger towards the Agrestes thinking that there was some deeply personal incident but Marinette couldn’t explain that it was all of Paris and maybe the world who had been wronged.

The change of school helped her escape Adrien’s insistence that they could still be in love. For him it was as if the soul bond had never existed. He was still in love with her but she felt sick even remembering him. She could not stand to be near him. It took a long time for her to realize the twinge she would get in her dark soul mark was because when the bond had severed from Adrien it had attached to another soul. From what Plagg and Tikki could tell her it was a soul touched with dark magic. Cursed magic that only became possible as a consequence of the wish that now bound her soul to another.

She knew that it was her responsibility as a guardian and the only one who knew of the connection to fix this cursed bond. She would have to in order to finish binding Tikki and Plagg to new miraculous jewelry. They would fade otherwise and time was running out. It took her time to figure out where the other side of the bond was tethered. She wasn’t sure if that was because the other soul was moving or because she was still unskilled in this version of magic. Miraculous magic was natural for her but other forms of magic took a lot of training and drained her quickly.

She knew when she stepped off the plane that she had found the right place. She could feel the bond activate. Rather than absorbing all light, the outline of her mark reflected a bit of red back to her. Tikki’s color. She took that to mean she was in the right place. She only had the carry on with her and rolled it along behind her. She had some clothes and the miracle box. She needed nothing else. She would never return to Paris.

---

Jason rarely felt the pits anymore. Occasionally he would get the rage but it didn’t feel like he was doing anything different. It was almost as if for a brief moment something else was controlling what was happening. His wrist was often covered by a sleeve or glove but one night as the feeling of the pits drained back out of him he noticed a reflective bit on his wrist. It wasn’t just the UV mark from the club but it reflected the UV light flashing around just the same. He had a soulmark when he died as a teen, but it had disappeared. He assumed because he died. Now he wondered if the Lazarus Pit could change a soul mark.

He didn’t really have anyone he could ask about it so he started quietly looking for more information about soul marks. The basics of how to identify your soul mark and find your soulmate was readily available, but it did not interest him. Most people were able to find out that on their own. The information he needed was far more obscure and might not even exist. Chances are that his soul mate had felt his original death and had moved on with their life. It was hard for many at first but not impossible.

---

Marinette wasn’t very concerned with what job she had but she did have to find a job. Her interest in fashion had not gone but she had no interest in pursuing it as a career because she didn’t want the inevitable interaction with Gabriel brand. She severed every connection to that family and had no interest in interacting with anyone from her former life, even her parents as much as she loved them. She could not get past the memories of betrayal and her failure. She didn’t have to move forward, but she couldn’t look back.

She ended up running a used book shop that had a large number of very old looking texts that were almost never looked at. People came and went buying and selling their textbooks, classics and current best sellers. Marinette always had an eager smile to help them, but once they had gone she would be back perusing the books that seemed to call to her.

They were not listed in the computer at all. She had even tried to look some of them up and found no information on them, but they were exactly the kind of information she was looking for. Not all of them were useful to her but all were full of various sorts of magic she was previously unfamiliar with. It seemed that it was possible soul bonds were originally created or discovered by mixing different forms of magic. The book that mentioned it did not specify but she suspected that miraculous magic would have been involved based on her knowledge and what had happened with her own bond.

She started keeping careful records of all she had read and labeling the books so they could be found again rather than the haphazard pile the owner of the shop kept them in. He was rarely there and did very little to check up on her. She had originally gone to him about an ad for a place to live. He was a little surprised. He said the sign had been there quite a while and that no one even seemed to notice. He then asked if she needed a job and offered the position at the shop to her. She tried to remember if she had even given her name at this point. She was fairly certain she had not and that he had accepted her living in and running his shop knowing nothing about her.

---

Jason was getting a little frustrated in his search. He never seemed to have the time to do much and he couldn’t really delegate this task. Being a crime lord had its perks but down time was not one of them if he really intended to keep Gotham safe. There was a line of shops that his militia couldn’t seem to enter to recommend their services for protection. Every time they reported their income they seemed to even forget the buildings existed. One claimed that he had been there to the shop, but when he entered the door moved and he was no longer inside.

The rest of the crew was far more amused by the tale than Jason was. He sent them all out and decided he would have to pay the shops a visit himself. The first one was a small second hand shop. They didn’t seem to have much of value and little business. Jason learned that they did what sales they could but mostly the money went right back out. They gave away most of the clothes and served food in the evenings. They didn’t get much foot traffic so it was mostly internet sales from the donations.

He didn’t want to ask for protection money. He felt at peace when he entered. Except for a tug. He flipped the book of figures closed and walked over to the jewelry case. There were hair clips with blood red rubies inside that he felt drawn to. He had the old woman show it to him. He flipped it over and then lifted it to the light. He didn’t even think it was particularly valuable. The woman confirmed. She said that it was very lovely but she couldn’t sell it.

“You seem like such a nice young man. Why don’t you just take that one with you. Maybe you’ll find yourself a nice young lady to give it to.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Jason could feel the soul mark warm on his skin at her words. She didn’t seem to notice his distraction. She walked away from the counter and towards the back of the store with her ledger. She didn’t return. When Jason walked out of the shop, he remembered his purpose in going. He turned to go back inside, but the door was no longer where he had exited.

---

Marinette was tired after work today. She hadn’t even had much of a chance to organize the old books today. She needed to get out of the shop. She rarely ventured away except to replenish groceries. She lived and worked in the shop and spent all her free time reading and cataloging the volumes of magic. She followed her gut and went out into the town. She wandered around for several hours, drew in a park appreciating the fresh air and checked out a few shops. She was almost home when she was drawn to a shop a couple doors down from where she lived and worked. She knew there were shops along the same building she worked in but she had never paid much attention to them. She entered the shop to find a second hand store.

She walked through the shop, trying to recreate the feeling that drew her in. Nothing really popped out at her. She glanced through the racks but there was nothing that really interested her. She tended to make most of her own clothing, occasionally getting fresh ideas or a few signature pieces to give her original designs a pop. Nothing here really even inspired her. She turned to wave at the older lady carefully cleaning the counter before she left through the door she entered but she paused.

There was an ankle bangle that drew her attention. It was a simple design, black with a small emerald cat attached. Usually she avoided black and green as reminders of her past betrayal but she felt a light pressure in her soul mark. It flashed in her eyes for just a second before fading to barely visible. The lady at the counter had not spoken but Marinette startled when she handed her a small package. She hadn’t realized she had lost herself in thought. The ankle bangle was missing so she assumed it was in the box.

“For you Dear, it isn’t doing anyone any good in here.”

The lady walked off with her cleaning rag and did not return. Marinette exited the shop but when she turned back to look at the building the door was no longer visible where it had been.

---

Jason was still frustrated with himself for how his visit in the shop had been. He actually was not interested in demanding payment from the shop. He had a soft spot for the places that fed those who needed it. He had used them a lot when he was very young and food was scarce. He even funneled money towards a few that were more reputable and not connected to Wayne Enterprises. He hid his involvement but it was essential to keep people fed to help with the crime. Every bit he controlled made all of Gotham safer. He wanted the children to grow up with enough food and options so they did not need to resort to crime and drugs. He would consider himself a success if he was able to put himself out of business as a crime lord.

He looked down at the hair clips from the woman at the shop. He didn’t know what it was about the rubies gleaming up from them. He was drawn to them as if he were looking into the eyes of the most intoxicating person. He picked them up to look closer but still they seemed entirely ordinary aside from his unnatural fascination. He slipped them in his pocket and headed out the door. He chose to go as Jason to check out the other shops before making an appearance as Red Hood. When he got to the location he felt a tug towards one door. He headed there first before he had even realized he had made a decision.

---

Marinette heard the little tinkle of the bell on the door while she was just about literally buried in a pile of the magical books. She had been switching back and forth feeling like she was on the verge of understanding something big so of course someone was in to buy a copy or Eat Pray Love or Alan Watts just to pull her away from her possible discovery. She tried to holler that she was on the way at the same time as she extricated herself from the pile but it didn’t quite work. She tumbled over into the pile of musty, dusty books. She groaned. There was nothing magical about the number of bruises she felt developing on her side and back. She halfway pulled herself out as she heard firm boot steps headed her way. She looked up at the man towering over her. He looked only briefly before he reached down and hauled her up by her arm. He dropped it like it burned him and she pulled away from him and the tingling spot where his hand had touched her. They both felt it at the same time and they had a matching glow from the soul marks on their arms. The glow flashed bright for a moment connecting them with a beam of light and then it went into the skin leaving the mark silver and lightly reflective.

“So, I guess you are my soulmate? I’m Jason.” he said.

“I’m Marinette, and If that is what you call your warped necromancy binding to my severed soul bond to you, then that is exactly what I am.”

“You had a soulmate before? I thought mine would have been lost when I died?”

“My original soul mate betrayed me and caused a rift that detached the bond. Your dark magic attached the bond to you.”

He just stared at her for a moment.

“It is only a matter of time before I figure out how to work around your warped magic.”

“Hey, I did not do dark magic. I was murdered and brought back as a child. None of whatever you are pushing off on me is my doing. Maybe I could help you. I have been looking for answers since the mark reappeared.”

“If you say so.”

She turned and walked away. He took that as a dismissal and decided to leave and come back later. She didn’t seem very interested in him leaving any sort of contact information so he decided to head home and return later. He didn’t make it all the way. He pushed on the door and the little bell jingled but the door did not open. He checked the lock and it wasn’t locked so he tried pushing again.

It stayed sealed so he looked back to see what she was doing. Maybe she had magic she had figured out how to use against him. He noticed the glow from his pocket when he turned back. He pulled out the hair clips and looked down at them. The red gems were shining brightly against his hand. He looked back at her and she seemed to be having a similar issue with a bangle with a dangling emerald charm. It was glowing brightly like the hair clips.

Their eyes met and a dark mist fell over them inside the shop. Marinette knew what this was. She worked her way through the mist to find the books she needed and her miraculous grimoire. She motioned for him to sit and she placed the bangle on the table. She tried to connect with Tikki and Plagg in her mind. It had become increasingly difficult but she hoped the mist would guide her thoughts so she wouldn’t have to take the time to do the full ritual. The mist swirled around with the red and green auras appearing and then forming together in the air before settling over the table with the jewels. Marinette used the book she had to read out a few unfamiliar phrases after the mist settled.

Jason was confused but he felt warm and comfortable rather than uneasy so he followed her lead. He didn’t know what was happening but his soulmark was glowing and putting out a green beam of light that went across the table to twist with the red glow coming from Marinette’s soulmark. He couldn’t help himself when he reached out and picked up the bangle she had set on the table. He watched her move almost at the same moment to pick up the hair clips he had brought. The red and green in the air swirled together to make one small cloud of red and one of green as the black mist faded. The small clouds became an almost definite shape, like fairies. The black filled in around until they were creatures with eyes and mouths. The black went into each of them making them no longer solid colors but the red appeared similarly colored to a ladybug and the green appeared as a black cat with bright green eyes.

Marinette lifted the clips to the ladybug fairy and the creature pulled it inside itself. Her hand was empty. He did the same with the bangle with the cat fairy. He still had no idea what he was doing, but it all felt right. When the bangle connected with the cat fairy he felt it lift the bangle out of his hand as it pulled and it disappeared inside the form. The soul bond was tugging him. He followed the pull and ended up right in front of Marinette. Her eyes were full of hurt and concern but she allowed him to pull her to him. All at once exhaustion rolled over him. He dropped onto the cushioned armchair near him and Marinette sat right there with him.

Continued below

Taglist

#maribat #jasonette july 2021 #soulmates #jasonette #boldlyanxious

98 notes · View notes

shealwaysreads · 3 years

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Last line game

I was tagged by @gallifrey1sburning, @peachpety and @maesterchill to play, thanks my lovelies! 🤍

Rules: Share your favorite closing lines from 10 of your stories (if you have less than 10 then list them all!). Feel free to skip any that might be too spoilery. Notice any patterns? Pick your #1 and tell us why you love it. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

1) Operative: “You owe me a bottle of Macallan,” Draco replied.

2) Knuckles: Draco rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide the satisfied curl of his mouth. “Go and run me a bath,” he said, and Harry darted in for another kiss.

3) Love All Lovely: “Fuck.” Harry’s smile was bright, and dimpled, and pressed against Draco’s own irrepressible grin before he could even register that their friends were screaming around them, and that the boom of fireworks matched the drumming in his chest, and that it was a new year, already. “Yes.”

4) Knots: And it was Harry who brought his arms around Draco’s shoulders, who tangled his fingers—careful, gentle—into Draco’s hair to sweep him down from the floating place, to bring him back to earth, to bed, to him.

5) Breathe You In: First, this.

6) If An Injury Is to Be Inflicted: I LOVE THIS LAST LINE. But also it’s a reasonably hefty spoiler. So I’m just saying here. I’m proud of it. If you read the fic...let me know your thoughts on it.

7) Catch and Release: “I don’t want you to stop. Touch me.”

8) Life Goes Not Backward: All was well.

9) Speak (and may the world come undone): “I know, Draco.”

10) That which hurts (and is desired): Harry watched him, habit of a lifetime, helpless, open, fiercely in love.

This is just as interesting as the first line game, and again, not something I’ve consciously thought about before (though I probably should have). I have also cheated, because a lot of my actual last lines are one/two words long and the context is sometimes what makes me like them, also number 6 is a major cheat but I stand by it. Basically I’m constitutionally incapable of following rules so there’s that.

I was surprised to see that so many of my last lines are dialogue, but it sort of fits with how many of my first lines open that way—I think all of my stories are very character-led so having their voice be the final word feels appropriate.

Tagging @slytherco @hogwartsfirebolt @p1013 @veelawings @onbeinganangel @xanthippe74 @ohdrarry @teacup-tai @lqtraintracks @nerdherderette @tedahfromtayla @pineau-noir @cibeewastaken and if you see this, I’m tagging you too, @ me if you play so I can come and peek! 🤍

#drarry #drarry fanfic #i was tagged #my writing #mine #hp #as always no pressure

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hanaasbananas · 3 years

Text

let's get covered in flames and play some games with the smoke

@apopcornkernel made this post about enemies AND lovers a few months ago and it IMMEDIATELY gave me MANY ideas. And then what was supposed to be just Vibes ended up being over 8k and historical. Sorrynotsorry

AO3

He finds his soulmate on his birthday.

Having finished a disastrous family dinner, Adrien rises from the table, ignoring father yelling after him and escapes out into the pouring rain.

In seconds, he’s soaked to the bone, and he hesitates on the front steps, wondering if it’s worth going back for his jacket but then he hears the lock click into place and the decision is made for him. Father won’t let him back in until morning.

Not that he had any plans to come home before then anyway.

His hair is plastered to his forehead by the time he reaches one of his regular haunts on the other side—the wrong side—of town, his teeth chattering in earnest, stopped only by something appearing in his mouth.

Swallowing in surprise, Adrien feels the item slide to the back of his tongue, almost going down his throat and choking him before he coughs, forcing it back up. A group of people skirt around him as they leave the bar, giving him bemused looks while he continues to cough, until he finally hacks out the item into his hand.

A pendant.

Eyes watering a little, he holds it up in front of his face, taking in the colour of the gemstone—the only clue he has to his soulmate's identity.

Not for the first time, he wonders at the practicality of soulmate jewelry appearing in one's mouth, but then, who is he to judge the universe?

The chain glints in the dim light before Adrien curls his fist around it and shoves his hand deep inside his pocket. He knows that shade of blue. He’d have known it was her even without the pendant burning his skin, telling him she’s near.

Lighting up a cigarette, Adrien leans back against the wall, scanning the room for her and finding her sitting at the bar. He’s never met her as a civilian before, though he certainly knows of her. But if she’s his soulmate, why hadn’t he received the jewelry when he’d first become Chat Noir and fought her?

Unless it isn’t Ladybug, but no—she turns to the side slightly and he’d recognise that profile anywhere.

Well. The universe works in mysterious ways. Adrien will certainly never claim to understand them. Taking a long drag from his cigarette, he stubs it out with a sigh before making his way across the room.

“Ladybug,” he greets, sliding onto the stool beside her.

Her shoulders stiffen, though her voice is sugary sweet as she flips her hair and turns to him. “I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong— you !” A scowl twists her lips—coloured a shade of red almost as bright as her suit—and she drops the act.

“Me,” he confirms, bowing his head mockingly. She recognises him of course. He’d expected nothing less.

There isn’t a single girl in this city who hasn’t been warned to stay away from him—and with good reason. After all, Gabriel Agreste may be one of the biggest names in the alcohol trade—and he’s filthy rich to boot— but he’s still Hawkmoth, still has every cop around here on his payroll, can make people disappear with just a snap of his fingers.

Even the most opportunistic man thinks twice before dealing with the Agrestes. Not to mention the fact that everyone knows that one of his sons is Chat Noir, though nobody is quite sure who.

Adrien prefers it that way.

Nobody wants to get caught up in that bullshit. Nobody wants their daughters caught up in it either.

Least of all Tom Dupain—his father’s main competitor in the business. But Marinette Dupain is not the shrinking violet her father thinks she is. He’s seen her swear like a sailor whenever she arrives to fight an akuma, even teaching him a few new words. If they hadn’t been fighting at the time, he’d have proposed on the spot.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Adrien asks.

“What is this?” She's not defensive, but her eyes meet his calculatingly, darting past him to make sure that he’s alone, that she isn’t in any danger she can’t get out of, so he relaxes, feigns nonchalance, making himself as non threatening as possible.

Lifting his shoulder in a shrug, he says “it’s a peace offering, a show of good faith—whatever the hell you want to call it.” He flags down the bartender, raising a brow. “So? Whaddya say?”

He won’t tell her about the soulmate thing. Not yet. But none of their people are here—they’re practically anonymous, just two young people getting a drink together. It’s as close to neutral ground as they're ever gonna get and the night stretches out ahead of them, brimming with endless possibilities.

Eventually, she nods. “Make it a good one.”

***

Green eyes meet blue over the rim of the glass, an invisible tug of war going on between them as they drink from the same glass, lips touching where the others have been. Her presence is intoxicating, more so than the whiskey, and every time her fingers brush his, a thrill runs down his spine, electricity dancing along his nerve endings and he wonders why the bar hasn’t caught fire yet, wonders how the building is still standing around them, hasn’t been reduced to rubble at their feet.

Soon enough, it becomes too much to ignore, and he rises. He’s been to this speakeasy before, knows all about the rooms in the back, and it’s not long before he’s sliding a few notes across to the bartender who hands them a key.

The door barely shuts behind them and he’s already grabbing her dress, tugging at the hem and bunching it up around her thighs. Marinette pushes his suit jacket off his shoulders, fumbles with the buttons on his shirt before giving up and ripping the fabric instead, sending buttons skittering across the floor, deafening in the quiet room.

“That was an expensive shirt, doll,” he breathes over her neck and she laughs, throaty and dark, pinning him with her gaze.

“That’s too bad.”

He goes to kiss her then, to cup her face but she swats him away, taking his hands and planting them on her waist instead. “Keep your hands down here, mister,” her lips curve in a wicked smile “those lips too.”

Rising on her tiptoes, she presses a kiss to his jaw, continuing higher and higher, her breath tickling his skin as she whispers in his ear: “we wouldn’t want you getting any ideas about stealing my miraculous, now, would we?” She bites his earlobe gently, tugging at it with her teeth and dragging a groan out from the back of his throat before leaning back, regarding him with hazy, lust filled eyes.

“Of course not,” he says, tempering his disappointment.

Adrien’s never wanted something as much as he wants her lips right now. He wants to kiss the lipstick from her lips, taste her mouth and feel her tongue against his own, and she knows it. She can see what she’s doing to him, but he sees through her, sees that she wants it just as much and if she wants to play games, well...he’s never been one to turn down a challenge.

Instead, he dips his head, nipping and sucking at the column of her throat, tasting the salt on her skin, letting the scent of her perfume wash over him as he noses the strap of her dress down her shoulder.

Pressing kisses against the exposed flesh, he grins when she clutches at his shoulder, her legs wrapping around his waist, and he stumbles backwards towards the couch, Marinette’s gasps filling his ears like the best kind of music.

Afterwards, he watches her leave in her rumpled dress, gloves clutched in one hand, purse in the other. She pauses in the doorway, looking back at him.

“I’ll be seeing you again, Agreste,” she says, and it sounds like a promise.

He stays, long after she’s gone, pouring himself another glass of whiskey, examining the lipstick print she’d left on the rim of the glass, and he thinks:

Happy fucking birthday to me.

***

They do meet again.

He doesn’t seek her out, but they run in the same circles, frequent the same bars, and once he notices, it becomes impossible to ignore. They gravitate towards each other, neither able to stay away for long.

Soon enough, it’s not enough to spend a single night here and there whenever their orbits happen to collide, but consciously making plans to see each other. It’s lying sated in bed together, limbs draped over each other as they share a cigarette instead of hastily getting dressed and leaving with her scent still clinging to his hair, her lipstick marking his skin.

He learns the planes of her body, memorises the taste of her skin and what makes her come undone beneath his fingers. Still, Marinette never lets him kiss her. He hasn’t tried again since that first time, though the craving for it keeps him awake at night, a sweet ache deep in his bones that never goes away; a thirst he cannot quench no matter what he tries.

He learns the planes of her body, but does not yet know the taste of her lips.

***

“Where’s this one from?”

Propped up on one elbow, Adrien gently traces one of the scars on Marinette’s exposed back, feeling the raised skin underneath his fingertips.

“No idea,” lying on her stomach beside him, Marinette watches him lazily. “I stopped counting after that first week of akuma battles. Does it matter?”

“I thought the cure—” he breaks off, suddenly distracted when Marinette sits up, the sheets pooling around her waist.

Rolling her eyes, she reaches out to grab his chin between her fingers, pulling his attention away from her breasts. “Doesn’t work on me,” she shrugs, “it never has.”

He’d thought the miraculous cure only left him scarred as punishment, reminding him that he was doing the wrong thing. His scars are well deserved, but Marinette’s are not

Is this his fault too? Adrien thinks of the soulmate necklace that he always keeps in his trouser pocket, holding onto it like a talisman whenever Marinette isn’t near.

He still hasn’t told her, but now he wonders. If someone else was her soulmate, would her skin be unblemished, all damage reversed at the end of each battle? Is it her connection to him that gives her these scars?

Adrien doesn’t have an answer.

Maybe it's selfish—who is he kidding, it’s definitely selfish—but as he pushes Marinette back down onto the mattress; as he explores her body, kissing her scars and committing each one to memory, he can't help but be glad that they match.

***

In the meantime, they still fight as though nothing has changed. And nothing has, not really.

Father still sends out akumas, Adrien is still his fathers lackey, and Marinette still comes to fight them both.

If there’s a new synchronicity to their movements, a new, more intimate knowledge of how the other moves, they don’t mention it. And if he’s more careful about where he lets his staff land, about the power behind his blows, he doesn’t mention that either.

Nothing has changed. And yet nothing will ever be the same again.

***

Marinette doesn’t figure it out for another month, but when she does, she’s spitting mad-angrier than he’s ever seen her.

She collides with him as soon as he enters the bar, before he can so much as shrug off his jacket, grabbing his hand and dragging him into the back room. The door only just shuts behind them and she’s whirling on him, eyes blazing.

“Why are you going easy on me?” She hisses, poking him in the chest “I haven’t been injured in weeks.”

He raises a brow “and that’s a bad thing now?”

“Yes!”

“Well I’m sorry, but I prefer when a fight is evenly matched.”

That, and every time she stands against him in that red suit, radiating power, seeming for all the world to be invincible...all he can think about is what lies beneath. Of her skin, pliant and soft beneath his fingertips, of the scars that litter her body.

He knows them all now. Knows which ones took the longest to heal and which still hurt her sometimes. What he doesn’t know—what keeps him awake at night, guilt gnawing away at his stomach—is which ones he gave her.

So many years. So many battles. How many of those injuries were inflicted by him?

Adrien will not be the one to add to them, lengthening his list of crimes. He won’t stop the akumas from hurting her—father would get suspicious after all—but that doesn’t mean he has to take part.

And there are other things that distract him

“ Evenly ma—” Marinette almost shrieks in outrage, stamping her foot. “ They always have been!”

“They were,” he corrects her. “Not anymore though.” Stepping forward, he leans in close to whisper in her ear, his breath ghosting along her skin, “it’s not a fair fight when I’m distracted. When all I can think about is your legs around me.” Marinette’s breath hitches and he grins, circling her “when the entire time I’m imagining what your lips might taste like, and all I want to do is stop fighting so that I may kiss you instead.”

Marinette’s cheeks are flushed, her breathing unsteady when he pulls back, but she’s quick to recover and meets his gaze defiantly. “Then kiss me.”

Adrien blinks, his turn now to be taken aback. “What?”

She shrugs, examining her nails nonchalantly. “Kiss me then. Or was that all talk?”

He doesn’t have to be told again.

Surging forward, Adrien cups her face for the first time but he doesn’t take the time to savour it, his fingers already sliding to the back of her head, burying in her hair as her hands fly to his shoulders and capturing her lips with his own.

Kissing Marinette is nothing like he imagined. It’s better.

As her lips move against his, Adrien thinks in a distant part of his mind that it was probably a good thing they waited this long to kiss, because already he is addicted to the taste of her. His tongue swipes against hers and her arms circle his neck, pulling him even closer. Her mouth is intoxicating and he could get drunk off the taste of it, like caramel, like expensive chocolate and strawberries—a forbidden fruit, acquired at last.

***

“You know, I wouldn’t have to keep doing this if-sit still” —Adrien presses down on her hips, holding her in place as he makes the final stitch through her skin and cuts the thread, reaching for a clean rag— “if you didn’t keep taking hits that aren’t meant for you in the first place.”

Marinette rolls her eyes, leveraging herself into a sitting position so that he can bandage her wound more easily. They’d struck an agreement, Adrien promising not to hold back during akuma battles as long as she meets with him afterwards to get patched up. So far, it’s been working a great deal better than doing it herself , especially on days like today.

This injury had been one of the more nasty ones—the akuma’s blade slicing through her side. The only reason it hadn’t gone straight through her belly was because she’d been pushing a civilian out of the way and it had caught her side instead, but the jagged blade had still done a fair amount of damage.

“I’m Ladybug , that’s kind of my whole job. Now if your father’s akumas would stop sending those hits…” Marinette trails off, staring down at him with an arched brow, though the effect is diminished by the hiss of pain that escapes her as he wraps the bandage tightly around her torso.

Adrien’s grin is sharp when he looks up at her through his eyelashes, and once again, she is taken aback by just how beautiful this man is—the sharp angles of his face, his thick messy hair, and piercing green eyes. Beautiful, yes—and dangerous.

He winks at her then, teeth glinting in the low light of the hotel room, “now where’s the fun in that?”

***

Adrien isn’t sure when it shifts.

He’s noticed the change of course. Noticed how they laugh between kisses more often than not, how their interactions are gentler—a fire simmering under the surface instead of consuming them whole.

It’s dangerous, what they’re doing, and yet they can’t seem to kick the habit. What started out as strictly physical, as a way to blow off steam is turning into something else, something he can’t—or won’t —put a name to.

***

There’s no akuma tonight, and Adrien is enjoying the rare moment of peace. In the distance, someone is having a party, the music spilling out onto the street and he finds himself nodding along to the tune when a flash of red—Ladybug—crosses his eye.

Curious, he follows her from a distance, watching as she stops at the docks. His eyebrows rise. The only thing people come here for is alcohol shipments. Carefully, she sets down a large crate atop a pile that was already there.

“Why, Ladybug,” he drawls, stepping out from the shadows. “I didn’t take you for a bootlegger. What will the papers say? Aren’t you supposed to be a model citizen?”

She snorts. “Model citizens can still drink .” Gesturing over her shoulder at the crates, she shrugs. “Papa asked me to drop these wine bricks off during the day and then I forgot. Now’s as good a time as any.”

“Under cover of darkness?”

“ Obviously . Ladybug might drink, but I’d rather not find out what would happen if people saw her contributing to the trade of alcohol.” She reaches behind one of the crates and pulls out a bottle of wine “want some?”

“Drinking debauches mankind, you know,” he remarks and she wrinkles her nose, popping the cork and taking a swig. “Or so I’ve heard.”

“Well then it’s a good thing I’m a woman isn’t it?” She smiles coyly darting out of his reach when he tries to grab the bottle. Taking to the rooftops with him hot on her trail, her laughter echoes around them, a happy joyful thing that makes his heart sing.

Ah, he thinks, catching her round the waist and holding her close. So this is love.

***

Some nights, she’ll sneak Adrien into her bedroom instead of getting a hotel room. It’s a thrill, having to keep quiet, especially when Adrien takes great pleasure in drawing noise from her lips, forcing her to bite her tongue until she tastes blood, lest her papa come investigating.

Marinette is fairly certain maman knows what she’s up to, but she turns a blind eye and Adrien is usually out just as the first rays of sunlight bleed across the sky, his hair like molten gold.

Not this time though.

This time, she wakes to his arm lying heavy across her middle, his head buried into the crook of her neck but it is not a slow awakening.

“Marinette?” Papa knocks loudly on her bedroom door and she jerks up, heart pounding wildly in her chest as she scrambles to put on her nightgown.

“I’m up, papa!”

“Shitshitshit —” Adrien is still only half awake but there’s no time—she shoves him onto the floor. Casting her eyes desperately around for his clothes, she pushes them into his hands and shoos him under the bed before practically launching herself across the room to her vanity, grabbing her hairbrush just as papa walks in.

“Good morning, pumpkin!” papa booms, crossing the room and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I just wanted to see you before I go.”

“Go…?”

Papa nods. “We’re running a raid on one of Agreste’s warehouses and I’ll be on the floor with my men when it happens.”

“Oh,” Marinette’s voice is faint as he continues to talk about the raid. She forces a bland smile, acutely aware of Adrien underneath her bed, listening to their conversation.

After what seems like an eternity, papa leaves, ruffling her hair as he goes, laughing at her attempts to swat him away.

“Goodbye, papa! Good luck!”

Hardly daring to breathe, she listens carefully, waiting for papas footsteps to recede, going further and further down the hall until she hears the low murmur of conversation between her parents in the kitchen.

Only then does she relax, dropping her hairbrush onto the floor with a thunk. “You can come out now.”

Adrien emerges from beneath her bed, but she can’t meet his eyes and he doesn’t say anything either. Still, he pecks her briefly before leaving, fingers brushing against her jaw and she leans into the touch, pretending that she does not see the conflict brewing in his green eyes.

Not for the first time, she wonders what she is doing with her enemy. Wonders at the risk she is taking, not just with her own life, but her papas as well, and all those in the city who she protects.

She’s playing with fire as if she’ll never get burnt, but even if she did, she thinks she’d probably dust herself off and jump right back into the flames, as long as Adrien was there to greet her.

***

Adrien mulls over the information on his way home, trying to decide what to do. Is it not his duty to protect the business he will one day inherit? It’s in the family's best interest. It’s in his best interest.

He could tell father. He should do it.

But he won’t.

***

The raid goes off without a hitch. Her papa is unharmed—though bewildered at her sudden affection, but it is Adrien who receives the majority of it after a week of staying away from him, too worried about the raid to do anything but stay home all week.

“You didn’t tell your father,” she says afterwards, pouring out their drinks and passing him a glass. They’re naked, the sheets tangled around them and her mouth is red and swollen from his kisses, but the way his fingers close over hers, lingering for a second before drawing away seems somehow more intimate, and she feels a flush rising on her cheeks, looking away and throwing back her drink in one gulp. “About the raid. Why?”

Adrien shrugs. “I could hardly warn them about something I’d never heard about,” his voice is laced with nonchalance and she rests her head on his shoulder, letting him toy with her hair as he speaks. “I wasn’t there now, was I?”

He doesn’t elaborate, but there’s no need to. The implication is clear and Marinette feels the last of her doubts slip away. He will not betray her.

It is this thought, the absolute certainty with which she believes it that brings the final defences around her heart crashing down, and finally, finally , she lets herself define what it is that makes her heart beat faster whenever Adrien is near, that has her laughing so hard at his stupid jokes that she snorts wine out of her nose. that has her searching a room for him as soon as she steps through the door, restless until she finds him.

She laughs then, twisting around to kiss him full on the lips, burying her hands in his hair and pressing herself closer to him, so close she can almost feel his quickening heartbeat underneath his chest

Love, she thinks. It’s love.

***

“What would you do,” Marinette asks conversationally, drawing circles round and round on Adriens chest. Though she feigns nonchalance, there’s a slight tremble to her voice that she hopes he doesn’t notice. “What would you do if I said I love you right now?”

Adrien stills.

“Are you saying that now?”

She avoids his eyes “maybe.” She’s wanted to say it for a while now, the words simmering below the surface, always on the tip of her tongue whenever she sees him, but she can’t help but be afraid. Afraid of what might come after.

“Well,” Adrien sounds amused, putting a finger gently under her chin and tilting her face up to meet his. “I’d say I love you too.”

***

“Keep your eyes closed,” Adrien says, one hand on the small of her back, leading her up the final flight of stairs.

There’s only one door on the landing—precisely why he chose this place—and he fumbles in his pocket for the key, almost dropping it in the dark.

“Adrien,” she whines, stomping her foot adorably and he laughs under his breath, pressing a quick kiss to her brow before unlocking the door.

“C’mon doll, just through here,” he guides her to the middle of the room, moving to stand in front of her, “go on then, you can look now.”

Marinette opens her eyes slowly, hand flying to her mouth as she turns on her heel, taking in the apartment they’re standing in.

“Adrien…” she meets his gaze, eyes wide “what is this place?”

“It’s ours,” he says, taking her hand. “I uh...I bought this place for us. No more hotel rooms.”

It’s small. A little cramped too, and the wallpaper is too dark, which they’ll have to change, but moonlight filters in through the large window and she looks at him like he’s bought her a mansion, like it’s the most beautiful place she’s ever seen.

“No more hotel rooms,” she repeats, a smile playing about her lips. “I like that.”

***

In the weeks that follow, they practically move in together. Instead of frequenting the bars in the city, and partying all night, she’ll make her way to the apartment where more often than not, Adrien is waiting for her.

They start to bring things in, a few books here, some records there. One night, rather than tumbling into bed, they get drunk and rip off all the hideous wallpaper. The next night, Adrien brings paint with him and they make the place their own.

It’s almost enough to make her forget everything. Almost, but not quite. After all, they never meet out in the open-the risk of either of their father’s men seeing is too great-can never be seen together

There are nights when she will stay up, running her fingers through Adrien’s hair as he sleeps beside her, and wishes that they could run away. When she sees the dark circles under his eyes, and he tells her of his father’s latest cruelty, of his frustration at being run ragged every day, she worries that their story will not have a happy ending.

Sometimes, she looks at her friends, at Alya and Nino—the open affection they share—and feels jealousy rise up inside of her like a raging monster crying out that it’s not fair!

On those nights, when she feels with such certainty that they will not have a happy ending, she settles for holding him tightly; for loving him in these secret moments in the darkness, and hopes that it will be enough.

***

Adrien gets the stone from the soulmate necklace set into a platinum band, gets their initials engraved on the inside.

He gives it to her on the anniversary of that first night, so long ago—almost a lifetime—finally letting go of his secret, and anxiety churns in his gut as he leads Marinette over to the mirror in their bedroom.

Standing behind her, he wraps his arms around her waist, burying his face in her neck. Marinette giggles, reaching back to tangle her fingers in his hair. “We didn’t have to come all the way over here to cuddle you know.”

“No, I—” Adrien swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. “I wanted to show you something.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out the small box, noticing distantly that his fingers are trembling as he opens it, showing her the ring inside.

“Is that…”

“Look,” he turns her to face the mirror again, holding the box up next to her eyes. “It matches. I didn’t tell you before, but…”

“We’re soulmates,” Marinette breathes, eyes sparkling brightly. Carefully, he slides the ring onto her finger and watches as she admires it, turning her hand this way and that, watching the stone catch the light.

He still can’t quite believe that she’d accepted it so readily. After the way he’d agonised all week, with the ring weighing heavy in his pocket with every day that passed, the sheer joy on Marinette’s face makes the breath catch in his throat.

To keep that look on her face, he’d do anything. He’d throw a lasso around the moon and pull it down for her, if only she’d ask.

She’s his soulmate . Adrien’s lived with the knowledge for a year now, but he still struggles to comprehend it sometimes. That she is his, that the universe chose them for each other.

It’s far more than he deserves, and he has to resist the urge to kiss her, to sweep her off her feet, hold her in his arms and never let go.

Marinette has no such reservations however, and she throws her arms around him, kissing him, slow and deep. “Let’s go away,” she says. “Just for a weekend. Somewhere that nobody knows us.”

How could he say no?

***

It’s exhilarating, being out in broad daylight.

She’s used to spending her nights with Adrien. Meeting him in dingy bars and dark alleys, hotel rooms with the curtains pulled closed, and though she’s seen him in the early mornings, when the sunrise spills through the window and tells them that their time together has finished, but it is an entirely different thing to see him outside.

Outside, where the sun glints off his blonde hair, transforming it into spun gold; where she discovers new shades of green in his eyes and is blinded by his smile, cheerful and bright in the daylight.

He’s never been more beautiful to her than he is now.

Adrien seems to be similarly affected, if the way he looks at her is any indication, and Marinette feels as though she is glowing from the inside out, basking in the heat of his attention.

In two days, they do everything that they couldn’t do in a year. They go to the park, and to the beach, holding hands—the action feeling somehow more scandalous than any of the other things they’ve done together—without fear of being seen.

She wears the ring he gave her and they pretend to be newlyweds and go to the fanciest restaurant in town. They go to a dance hall and dance the night away, then stumble back to their hotel in the early hours of the morning, hands fumbling with each other’s clothing, as he captures her mouth with his, their kiss a hurried clash of lips and tongues and teeth as they tumble into bed together and he makes her come undone beneath his fingers.

It’s the lightest she’s ever felt, and Marinette knows that she will cherish these two days forever—the glimpse that she got into the life of normality they might lead, if only things were different.

She never wants it to end.

But it does end, and thing’s aren’t different. In fact, things are worse.

Because when they return, the city is on fire.

***

It’s easy to follow the trail of destruction behind the akuma. Easier still to get the corrupted object and purify it, but as the miraculous cure sweeps over the city, putting out flames, restoring levelled buildings and knitting everything back together, Marinette feels the weight of her responsibility settle on her shoulders.

She’d felt so much lighter with Adrien, when they were away, but that could never last. Not when she has a duty to the people, when she is the only person who can set things to rights.

As she looks out over the healed city, Marinette turns away, frustrated tears slipping down her cheeks.

She can never leave again.

***

“And where have you been?”

Adrien pauses in the entryway, meeting father’s thunderous gaze. Félix stands beside him, though for once his brother doesn’t look smug at Adrien being in trouble.

And he’s definitely in trouble.

Father could hardly care less about one of his akumas nearly burning the city to the ground, but he does care about what his sons are doing. Or not doing, in this case.

That’s what he doesn’t yet understand. Father has a pattern and he sticks to it, never once deviating, no matter what. It was why Adrien had chosen this particular weekend to go away, knowing there was no possibility of an akuma attack, knowing that he would not be missed.

Squaring his shoulders, Adrien drops his bag by his feet. “Out.”

In three quick steps, father strides across the hall, his hand cracking across Adrien’s face, making black spots dance across his vision. “Did you have permission?”

Adrien remains silent.

“Answer me!”

“No,” he bites out. “I did not.” His cheek stings, but he resists the urge to touch it, clenching his hands into fists.

Abruptly, father’s expression clears, and he turns on his heel, motioning for Adrien to follow behind him. Silently, he does, ignoring the spike of worry in his gut in response to the troubled look Félix sends him.

Once they get to his office, father settles behind his desk, lighting a cigarette for himself before speaking again.

“Did you know,” he starts, almost conversationally “that Tom Dupain has a daughter? She’s around your age, I’d say.” Father pauses, shaking his head with a smile and the sight makes Adrien’s skin crawl. “Oh, what am I saying—of course you know her. Quite well too, from what I’ve heard.”

Adrien’s blood runs cold.

“I didn’t want to believe it of course,” he continues “but I did a little digging, and you know what I found?”

Numbly, Adrien shakes his head.

Opening his desk drawer, father pulls out an envelope, shaking out the photographs inside. They spill out across the desk, incriminating him. Incriminating Marinette.

Hadn’t they been so careful about being seen? Taken every precaution they could? But no, Adrien realises. Once he’d gotten the apartment, they’d grown lax. He’d gotten cocky, thinking that nobody would see them there.

Except someone had.

The photographs are of the two of them, exiting the apartment building. Marinette’s head is tilted up to meet his and he is cupping her cheek in his palm. In any other circumstances, he’d think it was a beautiful photo, but all he feels right now is horror, churning away in his stomach and robbing his ability to speak.

“You thought you were being very clever weren’t you? With that little apartment you got together.” Father is watching him carefully as he speaks, and Adrien struggles to school his expression, to seem unaffected. From the slight tilt of fathers lips, he is unsuccessful.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t entirely convinced that this wasn’t something simply...carnal. Something I could turn a blind eye to. Until this past weekend.”

Bile rises in his throat as suddenly, Adrien understands. The akuma attack hadn’t been a spur of the moment thing. It was a test. A test that he had failed.

“She’s distracting you. From your duties to this family, to our cause .” Reaching for the nearest photograph, father looks him directly in the eye, stubbing out his cigarette on Marinette’s face, the paper smouldering and blackening underneath the cigarette.

“Break her heart,” he says “or you’ll be picking up the pieces of her broken body instead.”

***

Adrien kisses her as soon as she arrives, his hands warming her face, drawing her closer and deepening the kiss. Giggling against his mouth, Marinette wraps her arms around his neck, pressing herself flush against him.

“Hello to you too,” Marinette murmurs, pulling away slightly. Her brow furrows when she sees the expression on his face, her smile dropping. “Adrien…?”

His face is shuttered, the shadow of a bruise on his cheek but when she lifts a hand, reaches up to touch it, he flinches away from her. “Adrien?” she asks again, swallowing down her unease “are you alright?”

“I am now that I have these.” Avoiding her gaze, he steps out of her embrace, holding up a hand and opening it to reveal something small in his palm.

Marinette blinks.

Something round. Two somethings—a pair— round and dark.

Something familiar .

Hands flying to her ears to confirm what she already knows, she laughs shakily. “Very funny, Adrien. Give them back.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“N —” her voice rises with panic “Adrien this isn’t a game!”

“It is, actually,” she stands, frozen to the spot as he circles her, his lip curling with contempt. “Did you really think that I meant any of this?” He laughs mockingly, leaning in to whisper in her ear “it was all just a game , so that I could get these silly little earrings from you.”

“No…No you’re lying.” Marinette stammers, even as her heart sinks, as she feels it crack in her chest. And still, she doesn’t want to believe it, can’t believe it. “Adrien, stop this, it isn’t funny anymore.”

He doesn’t respond, simply shakes his head and clicks his tongue in disapproval, walking slowly past her to the door.

Marinette doesn’t think, just acts, launching herself at his back and wrestling the earrings from his grasp. She doesn’t notice how easily he relinquishes them, aware only of the blood rushing in her ears, adrenaline coursing through her veins and she runs .

She doesn’t look back, doesn’t stop, not until she gets home, locking herself inside her room. Hands shaking uncontrollably, she struggles to put the earrings back on before giving up, throwing them across the room with a frustrated yell.

Stupidstupid she’d been so stupid to let herself fall for his tricks so easily. Had he laughed at her? When she had swooned into her pillow, recounting his affections, his words, had he gone home and mocked her with his father and brother, laughing at how quickly she had fallen into his lap?

The shattered pieces of her heart cut and slice at her insides until she can hardly breathe, agony unlike anything she’s ever felt before spiking through her; and as tears blur her vision, falling faster than she can wipe them away, Marinette half expects her eyes to be leaking blood.

***

He doesn’t see her for an entire month.

Adrien doesn’t particularly remember that first week after he breaks Marinette’s heart, the days blurring together in a constant haze of drunkenness and grief, but he does remember that he never saw her, even from a distance.

It’s better this way, he knows. Now Marinette is safe and at least father doesn’t know she is Ladybug, but he cannot forget the betrayal in her eyes, how he saw her heart shatter as he destroyed them in the worst possible way.

And yet, he can’t stay away.

“You’re not wearing your ring.”

It’s the first thing he notices, his eyes alighting on her hand as she exits the bar. The second thing he notices is how tired she looks. Her eyes are ringed with dark circles and her mouth a scarlet slash standing out in stark relief against her sallow cheeks.

And still she is the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Marinette falters at the sight of him and then she freezes, squaring her shoulders and levelling him with a glare. “Why would I wear it?”

“Look, I just—” he doesn’t know what to say, and he watches helplessly, unable to reach out to her, acutely aware of the people father has watching him, following his every move.

“Save it,” she snarls, “I don’t believe a single word out of your mouth anyway.”

He sighs. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve worse.” Marinette starts off down the street, barely sparing him a second glance as she passes by him, her arm brushing against his slightly, sending a frisson of electricity running down his spine. “Actually, no—” she spins on her heel, eyes blazing. “I need to know—why did you do it?”

“I loved you. So so much,” her voice breaks and he yearns to reach out to her, to pull her into his embrace, hold her close and never let go. “With all my heart.” Marinette continues “and you...did you never love me at all?”

If I answer that question, then your love will pale in comparison , Adrien wants to say. He opens his mouth to speak, to say yes! Yes I loved you! I still do, but no words come out.

Marinette’s eyes fill with tears. “I guess that’s my answer then.”

This time when she leaves, she doesn’t look back.

***

Breathing heavily, Marinette spins her yo-yo as a shield, ducking out of the way of the akuma’s fist and circling around him. Stepping back slightly, she watches him warily, waiting for her next opening.

A quick movement catches her eye, a dark blur just behind the akuma and she struggles to maintain her focus, keeping the yo-yo aloft.

The fight has been going on for over three hours now, and her strength is flagging, the sight of Chat Noir enough to sap the last of her energy. She can’t fight him as well. Not now.

Maybe she could face Adrien—in fact, it would be preferable—but ever since that night, his brother had taken over Chat Noir’s duties, and Marinette doesn’t know his movements, his fighting style like she does Adriens.

She doesn’t have time to learn either. Not when the akuma—a butcher with an unlimited arsenal of deadly tools at his disposal—throws several sharp knives one after another in her direction.

Cursing Hawkmoth under her breath, she dodges the knives, leaping backwards and propelling herself onto the closest rooftop, narrowly avoiding the baton Adrien’s brother swings at her as she passes by him.

Struggling to catch her breath, she wipes the blood from her forehead, crawling over to the edge of the roof and surveying the street below. They’ve emptied now, most people having retreated into their homes after the first few injuries. Some still linger, accidentally wandering into the battlefield and she has to keep an eye out, making sure to shepherd them away quickly before they get hurt.

She’s never seen so many civilian casualties in an attack before, and as she watches the akuma throw a giant cleaver, she is suddenly fiercely glad for her miraculous cure, even though she can feel her ribs throbbing in pain, knows that she will be bruised black and blue later.

Unbidden, Marinette remembers the reverent way that Adrien would trace her scars, would kiss them and ask about each one and she bites back a sob at the memory. She has new scars now—ones he can’t see, ones his brother gave her, and he will never know about them.

Part of her is glad. But every time she bandages herself after a fight, when she lies awake at night, in too much pain to sleep, she finds herself pretending-just for a moment-that it was real, that Adrien had meant it all, that the warmth he had provided her with-the safety- wasn’t just a farce.

She cries herself to sleep those nights.

Shaking her head, Marinette brings her attention back to the street below, her mind racing as she tries to figure out a plan of attack. Her thoughts are too jumbled though, and below her, the akuma roars once more, growing more agitated by the second.

There’s no time for a plan. Not if she wants to end this fast.

Swallowing hard, she gathers her courage and jumps down from the roof.

***

Adrien watches, his heart in his throat as Marinette narrowly avoids being thrown backwards like a ragdoll, getting out of the way just in time to only be knocked off her feet instead.

She stands, wobbling slightly and he knows it is only a matter of time until she is completely unable to fight. Not that it is much of a fight anyway-it’s been going terribly almost from the get go.

Father certainly knows what he’s doing. For the past week, each akuma has been more deadly than the last, and Adrien has watched from the sidelines as Marinette fights on two fronts—the akuma, and Félix.

He thinks of her scars, of how the cure cannot save her, how she is so close to losing now, growing weaker by the second. She won’t be healed, she can’t come back from this, I have to —

His brother vaults past where Adrien is standing. “Félix!” he hisses, reaching out and yanking on his baton.

Félix jerks back with a glare, his voice irritable. “What?”

“Give me the ring. We need to swap.”

“Are you mad?” Félix snorts. “Father’s angry at you. I’m not letting you get me in trouble too.”

“To hell with what father thinks!” Adrien yells “give it to me!”

Félix hesitates, sensing the seriousness of Adrien’s demand. Behind them, a sharp cry rings out and his head snaps back, seeing a young woman fallen on the street, her leg twisted at a sharp angle, clearly broken. Marinette’s seen her too. So has the akuma, reaching into it’s arsenal of weapons ready to take advantage of her distraction. Nonono —

Whipping back around, Adrien glares at his brother.

“Now!”

***

Looking around wildly, Marinette pulls the civilian's arm over her shoulder, half dragging, half carrying her off the street, searching for a safe place to leave her.

“Ladybug! Over here!” A voice calls out and she sees someone step out from the building in front of her, taking the young woman from her arms and hurrying back to safety.

Turning back around, she misses the look of horror that crosses his face.

And then she sees it.

Hurtling towards her—so fast that she can hear it whistling shrilly—is a giant honing steel moving so fast that she knows, even as she ducks, that it will hit her.

The whistling grows louder, a deafening scream filling her ears and she squeezes her eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

It never comes.

Instead, there is a sickening squelch , a muffled grunt turning into a guttural, pained yell. Opening her eyes, she stares up at Chat Noir—not Félix but Adrien —standing with his back to her.

Standing impaled on the honing steel in front of her. Protecting her.

Scrabbling backwards, she watches as he falls—almost in slow motion—to his knees, a shocked gasp escaping from his lips when she reaches for him, lowering him carefully onto the ground.

Green eyes meet blue and a relieved smile breaks out across Adrien’s face, transforming his pained grimace.

“A -Adrien —” she stammers, clutching at him, careful not to jostle the steel embedded in his gut. “Why—what—”

“You deserve worse,” her own words echo in her mind, taunting her, and she lets out a sob, almost a scream, “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t—I didn’t mean—” She can’t hear anything over the blood thundering in her ears, isn’t aware of the battle raging around her as the entire world fades away to nothing, narrowing down until they are the only two people left.

“I know,” Adrien says, as if reading her mind. “It’s okay, I know. But know that...” He coughs, ignoring the blood that splatters his chin “that I didn’t mean it either. What I did.”

Marinette’s breath freezes in her lungs. “You—”

“Lied,” he nods, but the movement causes him to hiss in pain. “Sorry...I’m so sorry,” he wheezes, “I had to protect you. From my father. I had to—I had—”

“Shh, Adrien, no it’s okay,” she shushes him, falling silent as he grasps her hand, moving it so that it lays flat over his heart, where she can feel the faltering thump of it beneath her palm.

“ I love you,” he breathes, “I always have. I didn’t say it enough, but...” his fingers tighten almost painfully around hers, voice turning plaintive “you do believe me?”

“Yesyesyes—” Marinette nods madly, and with a flash she drops her transformation, uncaring of who might see her, desperate only for him to hold on, to show him—

Her fingers are slick with his blood, and it takes her several tries before she successfully pulls the chain out from under her dress, yanking it over her head. “See?” she shows him the ring, threaded through the chain “I never stopped wearing it, see?”

“I’m...I’m glad. Keep it for me, won’t you?”

The gemstone glints in the dying sunlight before dimming suddenly and she stifles a sob, knowing what comes next.

“Hey...hey—” breathing heavily, he moves with great difficulty, lifting his hand to cup her face “come here, doll,” she lets him guide her down until their faces are barely an inch apart. For a long moment, he simply stares at her, his green eyes roving over her face as though trying to memorise it.

Impulsively, she moves to kiss him then, one last time. It is meant to be a chaste kiss, but Adrien’s lips move against hers with a fervour that surprises her, his fingers tightening in her hair and she clutches at him, desperate to imprint every sensation of this last kiss into memory.

Pulling away, she sees the ghost of his signature smirk tugging at his lips, even as his breathing becomes more laboured “a kiss to remember me by, eh?”

Surprised, she laughs through her tears, stilling as carefully, he wipes them away, his thumb stroking her cheek. “No more tears, okay? No more tears.”

Pressing her lips together, Marinette nods jerkily, laying beside him and resting her head on his chest. With great effort, Adrien brings his arm around her shoulder, holding her close as he is able to and she closes her eyes, imagining they are back in their apartment, lying together in bed, the sheets tangled around their waists, the sun creeping along the floor through a crack in the curtains.

Marinette doesn’t hear the battle end. She doesn’t see his transformation fall, or his kwami drift to sit beside his head. She sees nothing, hears nothing as her tears mingle with his blood and she lies still, counting every last beat of his heart until finally, there is nothing left to count.

#miraculous ladybug #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng

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