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emsylcatac · 2 years

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it's still july in other parts of the world shhh I'm not late

For @ladynoirjuly 2022, day 21 - chocolate kisses

Read it on AO3

(i didn't beta it so hopefully there aren't too many grammar mistakes 🙈)

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“It’s not that I don’t like dark chocolate,” Chat Noir explained for the third time that evening, gesturing calmly. Ladybug might just be pretending to not believe him, but he wouldn’t let her tease him freely without putting on a fight.

She grabbed a round-shaped chocolate from the small bag resting inches from his crossed-leg, and he suppressed a shiver as he felt the ghost of her hand brush his knee. He truly needed to get a grip—he was way past the age of feeling flustered by that, damnit. “It’s just that I think that milk chocolate tastes better.”

Ladybug let out a hum as she plopped the chocolate into her mouth, her legs swinging above her laying form a little faster as they did each time she ate one. Chat Noir picked a chocolate of his own and imitated her.

It didn’t taste bad. It didn’t taste delicious either.

He quickly swallowed it.

(if Ladybug snorted, he ignored it.)

Clearing his throat and the after-taste, he readjusted his crossed-legs position, sitting a little straighter, and moving his knee a little further from the treacherous bag that would most certainly soon call Ladybug’s dangerous hand back.

Ladybug’s jaws moved as she took her sweet time to finish melting the chocolate in her mouth, the motion drawing in his eyes. Chat Noir wished, not for the first time that evening (or of his poor lovesick life for that matter), that he would one day reincarnate into a chocolate. Melting inside Ladybug’s mouth sounded like a much more tempting and cocooning fate than melting on the spot from her mere presence on a lone parisian rooftop, while wishing to be a dark round chocolate.

He bet that the inside of her mouth was warm—it was a mouth, afterall—, and soft. Not like he would know.

(well, that wasn’t exactly true, his brain traitorously reminded, he did know; there had been that one evening, on national day a year back, with them a little tipsy, she a little affectionate, and he a little in love, and it had ended with her in his laps with her hands in his hair and her lips on his, and her—

…but they didn’t talk about that.)

“And I think,” Ladybug’s voice pulled him out of the forbidden memory, as per Rule 31 of the List of Things That Never Happened Between Ladybug And Chat Noir, “that you’re a scaredy-cat, and that both milk and dark chocolate taste just as good.”

She looked up at him, smiling sweetly with her head propped on her hand, and grabbed another chocolate to eat, humming an off-key song he still found melodious.

He scoffed. “You’re a liar, my Lady. Everyone knows that milk chocolate tastes better! And,” he mumbled, “I’m not a scaredy-cat.”

“You’re playing favouritism, Chatounet,” he rolled his eyes at the teasing nickname, “that’s not pretty and it’s very unhero-like.”

He scowled. “But it’s much sweeter! Don’t you prefer sweet and nice things?”

“You’re sounding awfully bitter for someone who pretends to prefer what’s sweet, Chaton,” Ladybug smiled wide, rolling on her back and (be still, his heart,) fluttering her eyelashes.

“And you’re sounding awfully rude for someone who eats chocolate daily,” he crossed his arms.

Ladybug sat up with a giggle, and he fell in love right then and there all over again.

Twenty-one, and he was still at her mercy. All she needed to do was giggling, even if it was at his expense. He had stupidly thought once, a couple of years back, that he was over it. All he’d needed to be proven wrong had been this exact giggle, beautiful and lovely and Ladybug, after he’d told her a joke, and he knew. Her laugh had long since created the flaw in his immune system when it came to loving her, and he was forever cursed to succumb to her charms. He had then accepted that he was a lost cause, but the reminder always made him feel kind of pathetic.

She scooted closer to him, her knee brushing his (hadn’t he known better, he would have sworn she did it deliberately), and grabbed his hand to play with his ring and fingers as she often did. He watched as she massaged his hand, then pulled on his fingers one by one, before going back to massaging.

“Lots of dark chocolates are sweet, you know,” she told him, bouncing his hand from one of hers to the other this time. “Depending on the brand, or on how dark you pick your chocolate, some are sweeter than others.”

“Maybe, but,” Chat Noir said as she switched to drawing meticulous lines in his hand, “milk chocolate is still sweeter, and therefore, better.”

“And that’s why you gotta appreciate both equally,” Ladybug grinned, “because it makes the chocolate experience more diverse!”

He pouted, because he was a mature cat. It made her giggle some more. She ruffled his hair affectionately. “Chatooon, I’m sorry there weren’t any milk chocolates left at the shop tonight.”

“What kind of chocolate shop doesn’t have milk chocolate left?” he whined.

She placed a feather kiss to the back of his hand (be still, his heart), and squeezed it. “I’ll make it up to you,” she told him, looking up in his eyes so softly he couldn’t doubt her words for a second. “Next time, I’ll find a shop that still has milk chocolate left. Even if it’s stupid because dark chocolate is just as good.”

“You don’t have to,” he hurried to say. But thank you. Also, that’s a lie and deep down, you know it, Buguinette.”

She shook her head with a tsk, and (disappointingly) dropped his hand to grab a chocolate from the bag.

“Say ‘aah’, Chaton,” she smiled, the lights of the city dancing on her left cheek just right, and making her eyes sparkle so brightly that he briefly wondered if all the happiness from the people of Paris wasn’t also being reflected in them. She was hypnotising, and he could only do whatever she asked of him.

Dutifully, he opened his mouth. She delicately grabbed his chin, and pressed the chocolate to his tongue. She gently closed his mouth for him, and he might have died a little inside at the tenderness she displayed in her actions.

He felt her eyes as he sort of chewed on the sweet. He hoped he was chewing okay and in a somewhat normal way—it would be embarrassing if he didn’t. He wasn’t as meticulous nor thorough as she was to completely melt it in his mouth, but he didn’t like tasting the strong bitterness for too long.

“So?” she said expectantly after a few seconds, “sweet, right?”

“Hm, shure, a shittle bit, bush not ash mush ash mishk chosholate,” he said between two bites.

She must have been set on torturing his poor heart tonight, because she giggled, again. He swallowed with a gulp. “You’re too stubborn. But, unfortunately for your poor kitty’s willpower, not as much as I am.”

Well. Didn’t he know it, and didn’t he love it?

She reached for his collar, pulling his necklace out from underneath his suit, where she knew it was hidden. He watched as she fiddled with the kwagatama and the two rings resting at the end of the chain.

“You know….” she started slowly, not looking away from his pendants, “I could prove to you that dark chocolate can be…sweeter…than milk chocolate.”

Chat Noir raised a brow. “And how are you going to do that, my Lady? It sounds like a challenge close to impossible to achieve.”

She bit hard on her lower lip. “I might have an idea.”

He hummed. “What kind of idea?”

“You’ll see.” She raised her eyes to his, bright and full of stars. “So? What do you say, Chaton?”

He tapped a finger to his lips. “What prize do you want, if you somehow manage to win, which by the way, I doubt?”

She blew a chuckle. “I’ll tell you when I do.”

He hummed again. “And what will be mine?”

She stayed silent for a few seconds, looking at him intently, almost shyly. “Anything,” she finally whispered, still searching his eyes, a lovely blush taking over her cheeks. “Anything you want.”

Chat Noir blew out a breath. Anything, she said. Anything he wanted.

But ‘anything’ never really meant anything, when what he wanted was what he knew she couldn’t give. ‘Anything’ made him vulnerable, because he could never really ask for what he longed for the most, unless he wanted to risk scaring her away. He knew from experience that her love wasn’t something he simply could ask for and be granted with at will.

Anything else, really, would have been preferable to ‘anything’ as a prize.

Chat Noir took the time to search her eyes, taking in the nervousness he could see in them and the blush still colouring her cheeks. What did she want him to want? Was it the same—could it be what he actually wanted? He didn’t dare to hope, but alas, his heart had always had a mind of its own.

“Okay,” he eventually breathed. “I’ll tell you when we get there,” so he could still have time to think and be smart about it.

She nodded almost imperceptibly, took a deep breath, and plopped a chocolate into her mouth.

She held up a finger, signaling for him to wait. He watched as she focused on —he assumed— melting once again the chocolate into her mouth. She closed her eyes as she swallowed, and when she reopened them, they held newfound determination. His heartbeat sped up.

She slid her hands on his shoulders; climbed onto his laps; pressed her body to his. He forgot to breath because surely she wasn’t going to—

…but suddenly, her face was close, so close to his, and Chat Noir didn’t have to process what was going on and what was she doing—

“The taste lasts longer,” Ladybug whispered, her lips so infinitely close to his that he could smell the faint hint of chocolate from her breath.

“Uh?” he said, in the only tone he could really say anything at that moment: dumbly.

“When you melt the chocolate in your mouth,” she explained, but he understood nothing at all, “it makes the taste last longer.”

Chat Noir gulped. “I…yeah?” The tremble in his voice was the least of his concern considering he managed to emit a sound at all.

Ladybug’s hands felt like feathers as they slid from his shoulders to his neck up to the sides of his face. She touched her forehead to his, and Chat Noir was pretty sure he completely lost the ability to breath this time.

“Are you…are you okay if I…?” Ladybug breathed against his mouth, brushing her lips against his ever so slightly.

If he’d had a voice, Chat Noir would have screamed that yes, of course he was okay, why did she even ask, would have begged her to please press her lips to his and take as much from him as she wanted. Instead, he must have nodded because not a second later, Ladybug lips were on his and she was kissing him.

Chat Noir’s brain attempted to reboot three times and gave up on the fourth, when he felt her fingers tangling in his hair, and his lower lips being taken by hers.

He tried to kiss her back, afraid she’d stop if he stayed paralysed dumb for too long. His hands settled on her hips, drawing circles with his thumbs, and she must have enjoyed it because he felt her pressing closer to him, and he had to take a sharp intake of breath as to not pass out from feeling her this close. He considered pinching himself to make sure that no, he wasn’t dreaming, and yes, Ladybug was apparently very much willing to kiss him, but he refrained if only so he could keep his hands on her.

He had completely forgotten the hows and whys he had gotten lucky enough to land himself with Ladybug in this situation. The reminder came when he felt Ladybug sliding her tongue against his lips so he would open his mouth to let it in, to let it slide alongside his: that’s when he registered the taste she carried. Dark chocolate suddenly became his favourite, for he was in Ladybug’s arms while she made a complete mess out of him. Chat Noir idly wondered if kissing someone to taste chocolate wasn’t a little gross; but then, Ladybug hummed against his lips, and he decided that nothing about his situation was even close to ‘gross’. He whimpered, helpless against the onslaught of all she was pouring out to him: he felt her affection, her want, her love, everything he’s ever dreamed to receive from her, and he made sure to give it all back to her with just as much dedication.

Maybe, just maybe, Chat Noir thought as he felt Ladybug’s hands roam in his hair, neck, shoulders, chest, and arms, she too was a little in love with him. Because surely she must have known that he must have gotten a good taste of chocolate by now, yet she was still pressing her lips to his, sucking on his lower one at times as he drowned under her ministrations. While Chat Noir would be damned if he was the one to pull away from her, Ladybug didn’t seem to want to stop either, and the realisation made him feel like he was floating amongst the clouds above their heads. Every time he thought that she was about to pull away from him, she came back with renewed passion.

He dared to bring her closer to him, to which she let out another delightful sound that had him shivering from head to toes.

Eventually, Ladybug slowed her pace, settling on leaving a few slow kisses on his mouth. When she stopped, she stayed close to him, and rested her forehead against his, breathing heavily.

Chat Noir took his time to open his eyes, only to find himself lost in hers.

“S-so,” Ladybug whispered, panting, and Chat Noir was relieved to hear she was still just as out of breath as he was, “d-do you…do you agree? With me? That…that dark chocolate can be sweeter?”

He chuckled quietly, still unsure to believe what had happened just yet. Her finger brushed his swollen lips, the tenderness of the gesture a testimony it indeed happened. “Yeah,” he blew, “y-you were completely right, my Lady. Sweet. It—it’s very sweet. M-mindblowingly sweet, even.”

She nuzzled his hand. He couldn’t even remember how nor when it had ended up on her cheek. “G-good. I’m…I’m glad,” she smiled.

Chat Noir inhaled a few times, still catching his breath. “S-so…Wha-what do you want?” he managed to ask. “For your prize?”

She laughed, kissing softly his palm, then trailed a path of kisses down till the inside of his wrist, and oh, god, he loved her, she was too much, she was way too much for his heart, she was—

“You,” she said, making him both fall from high and soar. “I want you. All of you. If you’ll have me, too.”

He took her face in both his hands and gave her one long, slow kiss on the lips. “My prize,” he told her, “it would have been you, too.”

Ladybug’s smile was one of the most beautiful he’d ever seen on her. “I was hoping it would be.”

And so Chat Noir let her take him, take him, take him.

#ladynoirjuly2022 #hi I can't write makeouts to save my life how are you doing #it's not much but I haven't been writing in forever #so small contribution for ladynoir july!#ml fanfics #myshitwriting #ladynoir #miraculous

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passionfruitbowls · 2 years

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@ladynoirjuly day 8: bell

(i saw this prompt and was immediately reminded of @chatonnoir‘s post about how chat’s suit is perfect for fiddling with so. technically you can thank them for this one)

—————

Ladybug isn’t sure when exactly she zoned out during their conversation, or when Chat Noir had taken note of her silence and concluded his mini rant about how bad the traffic in the city centre is, but she finds herself missing the sound of his voice.

“Why did you stop talking?” She asks quietly, lifting her head off of his shoulder so she can look at him.

Chat’s cheeks turn pink for a few seconds.

“Oh, sorry! I thought you’d prefer it if I was quiet since you seemed a bit preoccupied with…” He gestures to the bell attached to his suit, which Ladybug is currently holding in her hand, “this.”

She laughs nervously and waves her free hand at him, as if to say ‘Oh, it’s not important!’.

“Really? Wow, I had no idea I was fidgeting with it, my bad! You can keep talking if you want.”

So Chat continues, and she lets go of his bell. The atmosphere becomes a little awkward, and Ladybug feels embarrassed.

She hadn't meant for it to become a habit - really, she hadn't - but in between all the physically demanding battles and the quiet nights they spent reclining on the city's rooftops, Ladybug discovered that it was a great, albeit unusual, stress reliever.

Then again, Chat Noir himself has become a source of comfort for her over time. If you were to ask her why he’s so calming to be around, she’d struggle to come up with a clear-cut answer, because there are so many things she could talk about. His demeanour: confident and always knowing what to say in the face of an akuma, but gentle and soft-spoken when his help is needed. The way he often wraps her up in his arms as they sit and gaze at the evening sky, convinced that she won’t notice when he sneaks a glance at her. His smile, his laugh, how easy it is for her to get lost in his eyes…

“Hello? Earth to Ladybug!”

Apparently her thoughts are also easy to get lost in, because his question brings her back to reality as he places a hand on her shoulder.

“Hm? Oh, sorry! I must be tired.” She says, faking a yawn for extra effect. Chat Noir chuckles, then leans back against the chimney, closing his eyes.

“Hey, if you want to have a quick catnap up here you’re more than welcome to join me.”

Ladybug laughs and promptly shuffles over so she can sit next to him again. For a few minutes they’re both quiet, until Chat Noir has the brilliant idea to swing round and place his legs on top of hers, as if making a haphazard attempt to sit in her lap.

“Uh- what are you doing?” She asks, taken aback but still managing to giggle at his decision.

“Nothing,” He says in a way that suggests the position they’re currently in is the most natural thing in the world. “I just thought you might appreciate some cuddling while you doze off. I know I would.” He then buries his face in the crook of her neck, making it clear that he’s not budging.

Ladybug rolls her eyes, but allows herself to rest her head on top of his anyway, slowly running her fingers through his hair. With her other hand, she picks up his bell again, staring down at her reflection for a moment, then mutters a hasty “Sorry” before dropping it.

“It’s alright,” Chat Noir assures her. “I don’t mind it.”

Ladybug sighs with relief, forgetting any concerns about being annoying. She closes her eyes and basks in the warmth of the summer sun. After a while she starts to become weary; perhaps her lie from earlier about being tired had worked a little too well. Not that she’s complaining. She wishes things could stay this way, with Chat Noir by her side - he’s a reminder of why she loves being a superhero so much, and more importantly, he’s someone she never wants to lose.

#WOOHOO my first ladynoir july fic of the year let’s go!! 😎#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #ladynoirjuly2022 #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #pfb writes

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mysteriesmuse · 2 years

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LadyNoir July Day 4:

The Wall Between Us

@ladynoirjuly

“M’Lady-“ Chat Noir started, but shortly thereafter felt his throat close off.

“Yes, Chat?” She replied back hesitantly. Her voice equally unsure.

It’d been an incredibly ruff week. Multiple akuma attacks all dealing with university students who had failed the first few exams, anxiety, and studying.

One had the power to make every radio channel turn into lo-if study music, and other turned the museum into a giant house of flash cards; as weird as both of those sounds.

They were currently hiding from another, divided by a wall in the sewer and recharging their kwami’s.

Adrien sighed, staring out at the gray cement and trickling of sewage.

He fidgeted with his ring, “Bugaboo, I know we can’t reveal too much-“ There was a sharp inhale coming from the other side of the wall, so Adrien injected,

“Don’t worry, cats in the bag, I purrmise!”

“ It’s, being a superhero is a lot right now. My- my father he’s upset that I’m not . . . performing as well and my grades are slipping right before exams. Plus my friends and I have this huge final project before winter break and I feel like I’m not contributing to anything!” He sighed wrapping himself in his own arms, “And I just, I didn’t know who else to talk to . . .”

The problem was it wasn’t just the victims of Hawkmoth’s butterflies that were busy with finals. No, no, no! Paris’s very own, very teenage heroes were busy trying to study for their own.

Marinette turned and placed a hand against the wall, “Mon Minou.”

She knew, maybe better than anyone else, that Chat Noir secretly had a turbulent home life. That somehow battling crazy akumas by her side was a reprieve from what he faced everyday under the mask, but she also knew that there was a point where responsibilities between the two felt like a near impossible burden.

Suddenly she heard sniffling.

And then a half-hearted wet chuckle before some kind of purring. If she remembered right, his kwami Plagg could also do that.

“Hey, it’ll be alright kid.” A scratchy voice. Definitely Plagg.

Before Marinette could even think of anything to say, Tikki had zoomed towards the other side of the wall.

“It’s okay Chat Noir, let it all out!”

Marinette let out a breathy laugh, of course Tikki knew what to do. She sure didn’t, but she had an idea.

“Chat Noir, I’m,” oh man, should she really do this?

A wet hum followed by a tissue being blown solidified her internal debate.

(Adrien Agreste as a fashion model, obviously has to keep a handkerchief on hand at all times for fashion sake.)

“I’m coming over there Chat!”

Chat Noir blubbered, “M’Lady wait! Right- right now? But I- but we. . .”

“Yes, just, just close your eyes. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Marinette placed her hand on the wall and rounded the corner until she found herself blindly reaching another arm out, which was caught before she pulled her kitty into a bear hug.

“Hey-“

“I don’t know who you are in your other life, but I do know that you’re my kitty. My partner, and I’m not letting you go through this alone. So, so we’re gonna stay like this until you need to, and get back to the battle! And then,” she hummed, rubbing circles onto his back, “we can do it again, okay?”

Adrien Agreste stood there squinting his eyes shut for dear life as the water works poured out of him. The girl he admired holding him fiercely in his arms, as duty called and a raging akuma with sticky notes covered the city. Her duty to Paris put aside, he squeezed her back.

“Okay.”

He let her guide his forehead to drop on her shoulder, circles being traced onto his back. Plagg sitting on his head purring and Tikki hugging him around the neck.

This felt . . . like being loved.

#LadyNoir #ladynoirjuly2022 #exams #Tikki #Plagg #Test Anxiety #Day 4 #the wall between us

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coffeebanana · 2 years

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Indirect Kisses On Not So Lonely Rooftops

A little something I wrote to procrastinate for @ladynoirjuly day 6. (prompt: breathe)

CW: depression, dissociation

As night falls, the rooftop is lonely. There’s an unexpected chill to the summer air, a breeze that goes bone deep. It might just be Chat’s imagination. Far away and blurred like the city lights are cries of celebration, but they only sound like more lies. Chat can remember a night months ago when the rooftop was filled with life. It was cold enough to see his breath, but that never mattered in the suit. That never mattered with Ladybug lying beside him, her laughter warming him the way thermal energy never could. He remembers seeing her breath too. He remembers how, if they turned their heads towards each other, their separate clouds would mingle in the air before dissipating. He remembers how he teased her, calling it an indirect kiss. He remembers her eyeroll and her gloved hand pushing against his face and the way they both laughed until his sides seized in protest. Now, he can’t even see his own breaths for company. Now, he’s not even sure if he misses her. But it doesn’t take long for her footsteps to find him, even though he told her not to look. He can’t move as she walks towards him. He can’t breathe. He can’t really see beyond the tears that are starting to form again. Ladybug crouches beside him before he’s fully processed her arrival, and it’s only when her hand cups his cheek, turning his head slightly, that he really remembers. He remembers the angle at which their breaths mingled and his heart beat to the tune of forever and the gleam in her eyes twinkled with every colour like a streetlight blurring in the rain. He remembers, but he can’t quite feel it. Because his body might be in the exact same position, but Ladybug’s isn’t. His mind is light years away, the gleam in her eyes is too hard to reach, and the tune of forever is stuck in yesterdays. “Chaton?” He closes his eyes, but that makes it worse. It twists the sensation of his thoughts tumbling into a physical thing, and he can’t handle that for long. He pries his eyes open to see Ladybug stretched out beside him, but she’s still wrong. She lies on her side, her breath warming his cheek as she leans in closer. She’s supposed to warm the air. To make it sweet and light and enticing. Instead, she weighs it down with a question. “What are you thinking?” There are no ways to put it into words, not exactly. So he settles on, "That I wish I could see myself breathe.” She smiles. “Like an indirect kiss?” “Yeah. Exactly.” She shifts over a bit and rolls onto her back. Then she glances his way, and he catches a glimpse of her forever. It seems to get lost before it finds his heart, but it’s still something. She remembers. The rooftop. The warmth. Before. She can probably still feel it, too. Maybe Chat can learn again. The night goes on, and he can’t see their breaths mingle. But their fingers weave together, and later on their limbs. They talk about stupid things like they did that night--or Ladybug talks, and Chat tries to listen. They ignore the rest of the world. And somehow the noises of the city sharpen and the lights come into focus. The air is thick and stubborn, still hiding their indirect kisses. But little by little, Chat realizes they’re still there. And when Ladybug’s lips press against his cheek, he finds a new kind of warmth.

#miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #ladynoirjuly2022 #ladybug #chat noir #post hawkmoth #post reveal #cw: depression #cw: dissociation #i imagine this is like heroes day a few weeks or months after hm's defeat?#i really said like two days ago i'd be writing less love square and this is how i procrastinate #i save my weirdly flowery present tense snippets for tumblr #and i pretend they make sense #no really i just throw words together sometimes and call them metaphors but half the time i'm convinced they're just nonesense #it's really fun though so i think i'll keep doing it

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sugarshackpeasant · 2 years

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Blossom in the Dark

The path to true love is never easy (but somehow everyone knows they’ll manage).

Chapter Three: City Lights

Chat Noir admires our lovely Ladybug.

read here

rated: general audiences

fandom: miraculous ladybug

ship(s): ladynoir

characters: marinette dupain-cheng | ladybug, adrien agreste | chat noir, master fu, alya cesaire

tags: ladynoir july, mutual pining, angst, fluff (more to be added)

@ladynoirjuly

#ladynoirjuly2022 #miraculous ladybug #mlb #ml #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir july

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sparrowsworkshop · 2 years

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“When the Dust Settles” by OneWingedSparrow; Chapter 1: Last Heroes

Next Chapter >>> Summary: Paris has fallen. Thanks to the misguided efforts of one individual who stumbled upon the powers of the Butterfly Miraculous, the once beautiful city sank into ruin and the people fell prey to a terrible fate. Two survivors roam the wreckage, spared only by the Miraculous they themselves carry. Bearing the names Ladybug and Chat Noir, and burdened by the hearts of their kwamis Tikki and Plagg, Marinette and Adrien struggle to protect each other...while also hoping to rescue any others that have somehow survived the apocalypse. Tags: Post Apocalypse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff and Angst, LadyNoir, Tikki / Plagg, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Mild Blood Bonus: Tag for the Whole Fic: Angst with a Happy Ending Reblogs are appreciated! This was written for LadyNoirJuly2022! So excited to contribute this year. :D (This is a multichapter fic, and each prompt for LadyNoirJuly will be another chapter.) @ladynoirjuly Day 1 Prompt: Last Heroes Read on AO3

Chapter 1: Last Heroes

~ “I’m sorry,” her Kitty whispers as she wraps the bandage over his arm. Ladybug shakes her head. She can’t meet his eyes, despite the fact that their glowing green depths are considerably brighter than the crooked streetlamp casting dim lighting over both of them. She know she doesn’t need to say the words aloud for him to hear them. Don’t apologize. He sighs in defeat, only to grimace three seconds later. Maybe being so focused made her knots too tight. She loosens the wrap a bit, ignoring the dark red stain that seeps through the cloth. Nineteen doesn’t feel old enough to play medic. Then again, seventeen was too young to play survivor, and yet, that’s what life made her. She surveys her handiwork, and then, finally looks up. “Good?” Ladybug asks under her breath. Chat Noir responds with a smile. A small one, but a smile nonetheless. A flash of green ripples the air, repelling some of the smog; in an instant, his once-bare, now-bandaged arm covers itself again with the tight black sleeves of his supersuit. With his good arm, he reaches for her hand and gently leads her through the dark. She simply follows, trusting in his superior night vision to guide them. With him taking point, she can channel her attention into listening. As always, the first sound she notices is the crunch of their boots on the pavement. No matter how quiet they try to be, the brittle, broken concrete always makes some sort of gravelly complaint. Overlapping this is the ghostly hiss of the wind, rustling tattered billboards and slamming loose debris about. Every now and then a streetlight crackles, its lightbulb gasping for breath, though those noises become fainter as Chat Noir drifts farther from the lights. But these sounds are irrelevant, mundane, unimportant. What she needs to listen for comes beyond the hushed requiem of a city deserted. What she needs to listen for are sounds she never wants to hear again. A butterfly’s wingbeat. A last cry for help. He stops suddenly, his grip tightening on her hand. She halts too, and her pulse pounds in her ears, drowning out all else. The cat ears atop his head flick erratically, one at a time. Otherwise motionless, Chat Noir stares into the haze. Ladybug stretches her free hand towards the yo-yo on her waist, ready to sling it. Ten seconds pass. Then twenty. Thirty-five. And then he whirls.

Dust flutters about with the swift motion, clogging her nose and nearly making her sneeze. Struggling, she suppresses the reflex. Abruptly he pulls on his hood and then sweeps the folds of his cloak over her, until her bright red outfit is completely encased in the darkness. She raises her head to meet his glowing eyes. He presses a finger over his mouth. She hangs her head, calculating. If he thinks it best to remain still, they can't be too near. But out of all their strategies, this is her least favorite. She hates hunkering down, especially when she can't see what's going on. Her insides start to quiver. She forces herself to breathe. In. Out. Through her nose. The cloak smells like smoke with the faintest hint of blood. Like the aftertaste of rainwater. Like one too many weeks spent on the open road. "Okay," he whispers. Ladybug nods. He pulls his cloak away, and she is free to see the world once more. She doesn't miss how he flinches when he moves his injured arm. "Call it a day?" she asks softly. "There's a Bunker nearby." "Sure." For once, he doesn't protest. Her heart stings. His injury must be worse than he lets on, or he wouldn't agree to rest so quickly. "Not this way," Chat Noir whispers, glancing over his shoulder. "Just...in case. We'll take the long way around." She pulls out her yo-yo this time, squeezing it so hard she feels she might crack it in two. "Don't rush." * * * The Bunker they find is one they were in about three days ago. She was hoping they could have covered more ground, maybe found a new safehouse along the way, but it's best to play it safe. If there's anything they have, it's time. This particular Bunker used to be a small house with a picket fence and windowboxes bursting with life. Now the boxes are overturned, the flowers long since wilted, some of the dry stalks blown away. The fence is no longer there, not that it would have been a good barricade for anyone. And the house itself has collapsed somewhat, its roof dappled with skylights that weren't in the original blueprints. But somewhere among the three and a half walls that remain, there's a snug alcove out of sight from the road. Once again, unplanned; such a "room" was only formed by wreckage, though they did move around some of the rubble to make it a little more secure. The space is just large enough for both of them to lie down in, and it's under a section of roof that hasn't been broken in, so they have some shelter from the rain, if there is any. She forces him to hang back while she scouts out the Bunker. Though she can't see as well in the dark, she knows the place well enough to not need high visibility. Her yo-yo flicks into the corners she doesn't dare enter first. Finally, Ladybug deems the Bunker secure and beckons Chat Noir in. The "room" has a dirt floor; they'd ripped up the broken floorboards long ago, to make it more comfortable. Between their cloaks and the small space, they've always been warm enough, at least for this season.They lie down at the same time. This leaves them rather vulnerable, she knows. One of them should keep watch. But she’s just...so...tired. He is too. And she doesn’t want to leave him. Not like this. Fighting alone, even a minor injury could be the difference between life and death. The silence wraps around them like the smog—overbearing, uneasy, and suffocating. Ladybug wraps her arms around herself. Usually she feels safe here. With him. But today...she can't help but be worried. Chat Noir seems to sense her anxiety. He rolls over, closer to her. At this, she tips on her side as well, watching.“Was it a mistake?” he mumbles at last. “Choosing me?” “Never,” she says back, making firm eye contact. Chat Noir studies her face. Searching for truth. “You might have found someone better.” “There is no one better than you.” “You mean there is no one else around.” She laughs weakly. “You might have found someone,” he repeats, as if he wants to believe it. “Someone who didn’t get hurt all the time. Someone who actually matters.” “You tell those thoughts to shut up,” she says firmly. “No, more. Cataclysm them.” “Can’t,” he says softly. “You know this.” Her gaze flicks down to the cracked ring on his finger. “Imagine you can. Do it anyway.” He becomes quiet for a moment. "I'll try," he mumbles at last. She reaches out and gently touches his injured arm. Not in the wounded spot, but just above. "Miraculous Ladybug," she murmurs. She knows the words are useless. But the placebo seems to work, because she's rewarded with another tiny smile. Drowsiness starts to wash over her. She closes her eyes. The silence doesn't seem as horrid now. It's almost...peaceful. Almost. "Do you think They got hurt as much as us?" Chat Noir asks suddenly, and her eyelids flutter open. They. Nameless, speechless, almost faceless. He’s never seen Them, but she saw the Lady. Once. Only once, but for time long enough to burn the image into her memory. That memory is potent in emotion, but lacking in clarity. The face of the Lady is only getting blurrier the more months pass. "I don't know," Ladybug says. He hums. "Must be the bad luck They passed on." “It’s not Their fault,” she says, because she knows it’s probably not. She wants to believe it’s probably not. At the very least, she can give Them the benefit of the doubt. "They sure left us a lot to clean up." Sadness chips away at his voice. "But They left us something," Ladybug reminds him. Her eyes close again, all on their own. "And that's...all that matters." ~ Next Chapter >>>

#ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #ladynoirjuly2022 #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #angst #alternate universe #post apocalypse #angst and feels #mild blood #sparrow fics #so excited to post this story..can't wait to see where it goes :)#when the dust settles #multichapter fic #miraculous ladybug fanfic

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