#mlauyeahaugust2020

[milknette]

day 10 - reverse crush

my heart’s in overdrive, and, you’re behind the steering wheel.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

EVERYONE expects his answer to be Ladybug.

Because it's always Ladybug. The savior of Paris. The one who can undo all the damage. The one who always brings hope wherever she goes. The face of the superhero movement. (One can argue that Chat Noir is equally as important, and he definitely believes it to be true, but the question, in the end, is who his superhero crush is— and as far as Adrien's concerned, he can't have a crush on himself.

Though the apparent adrichat shippers beg to differ.)

In any case, Ladybug's not the answer.

Only one girl has his heart, really, and it's by sheer luck that she happens to be a superhero— and an even bigger bout of luck when he finds out about it. So the answer flows out of his tongue without so much as a thought:

"Multimouse."

Nadja Chamack is, understandably, caught off-guard. (In reality, she had come into this interview hoping to find some truth to the fact that two of Paris' biggest idols were in love with each other)— but this seemed to be a lot more interesting.

"She's… the one who helped Chat Noir and Ladybug with Kwamibuster, right?"

"Yeah!" Adrien's eyes almost sparkle as he talks about her. "She's the only reason why we— all of Paris, I mean, managed to defeat her then! Ladybug and Chat Noir would've been in real trouble if she wasn't there to save the day. And she's so cool like Multimouse has the power to become tiny, and when she used her power it was so adorable and amazing and wonderful—!"

"A Multimouse fanboy, then?" Nadja asks, an amused smile playing on her face. "I'm sure a lot of our viewers are surprised. They, and even I thought you'd choose Ladybug. What makes Multimouse so unique?"

Because it's her. Because it's the girl he's so desparately in love with. Because it's Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

(Not like he can say that, of course.)

"I do love Ladybug," Adrien begins. "She's a hero and I look up to her sense of duty and professionalism in saving Paris." Then, a pause. "But I admire Ma—Multimouse. She was thrown into the superhero role so suddenly, in a situation as high-stakes as back then, and managed to do perfectly." He looks down and smiles. "And… she's cute."

(Oops, now that wasn't meant to slip out.)

Nadja's look of victory at receiving— and being responsible for breaking the news of Adrien Agreste's Crush is clear. "Well, she does sound like quite a hero when you describe her like that. It's a shame that she hasn't showed up so much."

"You're right," Adrien mutters, and the disappointment in his tone is evident. "But I trust in Ladybug… and Chat Noir's judgment. If they need her, then she'll appear again."

"For the sake of your crush, let's hope so!"

Adrien splutters. "Wait, Ms. Chamack, this isn't a crush, it's just admiration from a purely superhero-civilian perspective…"

She turns to the video camera. "Young love is sweet, isn't it? For Adrien, let's all wish that Multimouse shows up again soon! Ladybug and Chat Noir, maybe you'd be interested in lending a hand?"

The show comes to a close with Adrien beet-red and almost desparately coveting her face.

.

.

Marinette is exhausted.

Which is saying a lot, because she's already exhausted on a regular day— from balancing her studies, being a class representative, fashion designing, helping at the bakery, and of course, being Ladybug, but this brought everything to an entirely new level.

Because now, not only did she have to run around Paris in one full-body suit, but with Adrien's apparent declaration of love on national television— and multiple angrily-worded 'why do you hate love / Multimouse / Adrien Agreste' letters to her superhero persona after— Marinette was now made to run around using two.

Ladybug with an akuma, Multimouse when patrolling. And also Ladybug when patrolling. And sometimes Multimouse with an akuma.

Just to keep everyone in Paris happy. (And non-suspicious, really.)

All because of that damned interview.

She has to stop herself from yelling a string of not-so-kind words into the sky.

Marinette likes Adrien. She really does.

He's a good friend, and after that whole misunderstanding with Chloé and the gum, basically cemented himself as an all-around good person. He's given her more homework help, fashion advice, and general pep talks than she could ever count.

But Marinette doesn't like like him.

(And maybe she would, in an alternate universe— he's kind, sweet, handsome, and all of Paris is quite frankly in love with him, but her heart belongs completely to someone else.)

So a sudden reveal that he has a crush on her superhero persona… and not even her primary one, doesn't really bother her as much as it could.

Besides, as far as she was concerned, Adrien had never interacted with Multimouse. She wonders how he could've gotten all those thoughts about her in his head, but decides it's just one of his stranger quirks and leaves it aside.

It's probably infatuation with a superhero. Nothing new, really. (She's experienced fans claiming they 'loved' her when all they truly felt was admiration. Nothing less, and honestly, nothing more.)

Marinette knows what true love is.

She knows it so clearly that when it comes jumping from the buildings, rooftop to rooftop, her heart threatens to beat out of her chest and follow him.

He lands on the empty balcony with ease.

"Why so glum, bugaboo?" Adrien asks. "You look exhausted. Didn't get enough rest last night?"

Marinette wants to scream. They're supposed to be patrolling tonight; alternating between Ladybug and Chat Noir, then Multimouse and Chat Noir, then Ladybug and Multimouse— a plan which, on paper, sounds perfect.

But in this case, Marinette's both, she's Ladybug and Multimouse (and herself at every other point of the day), and therefore hasn't had any sleep at all.

It's tiring, but seeing Chat Noir, she finds, makes her feel a lot better.

"Had some things to do… in the real world," she mumbles instead, lazily leaning upon the railing. "How was it yesterday?" Marinette asks, opting to change topics. "Multimouse said you're working well together."

Chat Noir almost beams when the words escape her mouth.

(Marinette vaguely wonders if it's possible to be jealous of herself.)

"Really?" He asks, eyes bright. "She said that? I've honestly been so worried about whether or not I've been making her uncomfortable… she doesn't talk a lot, which I think is a shame, because I'm sure she has a ton of interesting stories…"

"Hey," Marinette stops him. "Remember that Multimouse has to keep her identity secret. She can't risk giving any information that might lead back to her civilian self. She's new to this, so it's only right that she's more careful than we are."

It's strange, talking about herself like this.

"You're right," he sighs, before turning to her. "Hey… can I tell you a secret?"

Marinette frowns. What could this be?

"I actually know who Multimouse is," he finally confesses. "I know it's Marinette."

Well, she already knew that. She was the one responsible for him making that realization, after all.

But what gets her is how comfortable he is saying her name— when really, all he should know is Ladybug and Multimouse.

"So you saw her detransform, huh?" Marinette asks, looking up to the sky. "I hope you'll keep it secret."

"Of course I will!" Chat Noir protests, then takes a deep breath. "I'm glad you trusted her. She's a good person."

Now how does he know that?

"I mean—," he stumbles over his words. "From what I've heard! From her friends… and online posts… and stuff… I've definitely never met her before!"

Liar.

Why is he so terrible at lying?

Because that's something she knows now. That Chat Noir knows her. That he knows Marinette. So to some extent, she knows him.

Which means that there's a very large possibility that Marinette has spoken to Chat Noir. That Marinette has interacted with Chat Noir. That Marinette is maybe even friends with Chat Noir. And that for all her talk about being in love with him, she doesn't recognize him at all.

"... Ladybug?"

"How do you know Marinette?"

The question escapes her tongue before she can stop it. It's a dangerous question, one that can ruin their secret identities completely, but she can't help doing so.

She needs to know.

He's evidently panicking. Marinette watches him with a steady gaze, even though she's all but in complete chaos on the inside.

"I'm kinda maybe in love with her."

Well.

She wasn't expecting that at all.

"You… love…," the words aren't registering, and she's struggling to get a single word out.

He sighs. "Yeah, cat's out of the bag now? I know her a bit in real life. She's just so kind and talented and cute… it's impossible not to fall in love with her. That's why I was so excited when you started recruiting Multimouse again— and why I've been so insistent on having her on patrols with me."

Wait.

"But it's okay! I'll never tell her that we actually know each other. Cat's honour!" Chat Noir smiles at her, acting as if there was nothing at all wrong in the world. "And don't worry, everyone I know has or had a crush on Marinette at some point. I'm one-in-a-million, so I don't think this'll narrow your search on me by that much…," he begins, "as long as you don't look."

Except she's looking. Even against her will, Marinette's mind speeds through everyone she knows that has a similar build to his.

Blonde hair, green eyes, about her size…

Only one person fits that bill.

The word escapes her mouth before she can stop it.

"Adrien?"

"... okay, so maybe I messed up."

"So you're the reason I haven't been sleeping?"

"Well I mean, I'm flattered…"

Marinette gets the situation she's in quickly. Adrien, however, takes a little bit longer.

"I meant for patrolling you absolute zero-braincelled—

"Patrolling? Ladybug, what do you mean…"

"Hhh. Think about it for a second."

"Ladybug…"

"You can do it."

"… you're Multimouse?"

"And…"

"And that means…"

"Come on now."

.

.

"Marinette?!"

[milknette]

day 18 - bookstore

cause lately i don't even know, what page you're on.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

THE first thing Marinette thinks as she pulls out the notebook is, that doesn't belong there.

And she's right— she knows Fu's Bookstore in and out; it's been her favorite place starting from when she discovered it in high school, and Marinette's practically lived there ever since.

(It's come to a point that some customers have assumed she's worked there, asking her questions as if she were an employee. Marinette still answers them even if she's not, just for the simple reason that she can.

Mister Fu doesn't mind either, assuring her that he loves the company and spirit she brings to the business.)

So Marinette always makes it a point to help whenever she can; her own personal way of saying thank you for providing her with a second home.

Today, she's organizing the books and placing them on their proper shelves.

It only takes a moment for her to notice the out-of-place and bright red notebook peeking out from the selection for Books About Superheroes.

"Weird," she quietly mutters to herself, wondering if someone had left it behind by mistake.

(But in case it was, then why would they shelf it, of all things?)

Curiously, Marinette opens the notebook.

On the first page, written in almost perfect handwriting:

'Up for making a new friend?

If yes, turn the page and write something!

I think that together, we'll be meowvelous.'

On the bottom is a drawing of an all-too-familiar catlike superhero, but was depicted so poorly that she almost couldn't identify it at all.

Marinette sighs.

Okay then. Guess she'll be writing something after all.

.

.

Adrien almost trips as he runs to the bookstore.

Maybe today. Maybe today someone actually replied!

He sneakily makes his way to the shelf, carefully watching to ensure that nobody's looking behind him. Adrien wraps the black jacket closer to his body in an attempt to hide himself.

Then, he opens the notebook.

First, he thinks with complete joy that, someone read it! This actually worked! He'll have a new best friend like in those coming-of-age movies and—

He flips to the next page.

'Please don't use the bookstore for your antics and jokes. I'll leave the notebook here for you to take back.

And Chat Noir, really? We all know the superior hero, and it's not him.'

Drawn below is an extremely intricate drawing of Ladybug, the superheroine of the Miraculous comic, arms out and holding her token yo-yo.

The sketch is so perfect that Adrien's tempted to rip the paper off and keep it for himself.

Instead, however, he decides to write back.

.

.

'Hey, it's not like I hate Ladybug, but we have to give Chat Noir some credit too! His puns are purrfect; absolute comedy gold.

But I love your drawing! Are you an art major?'

'His puns aren't all that clever. And you're not that great either, come to think of it. Maybe you could learn from Ladybug and start speaking more seriously?

And not an art major, but I'm in fashion design. I just like sketching in my free time. You, on the other hand? You could do with some practice. :-)'

'Then, teach me maybe?'

'Believe me, we're going to need a lot more notebooks if you want that to happen.'

.

.

Marinette doesn't know what makes her keep replying.

Maybe she doesn't want to lose a possible customer. Maybe the boredom of summer was finally getting to her. Maybe it's the fact that she pitied him because of his poor drawing skills and pure lack of taste in choosing superheroes.

Or maybe— maybe it's because she wants to know more about the strangely-optimistic and overly-friendly mysterious boy hiding behind the notebook's cover.

They continue their writing exchange for months.

(And have consequently gone through their fifth notebook to date. She figures that if they didn't doodle as much, they'd probably end up wasting much less paper.

But then again, Marinette does like seeing his awkward drawings decorate the pages.)

.

.

Their first argument over paper starts when Bookstore Stranger uses two whole pages to draw Ladybug and Chat Noir— sharing a kiss.

She doesn't even compliment him on the drawing.

'WHY ARE THEY KISSING?'

'Why not? I think they're in love! :'

'No, they're just partners by profession. A romantic relationship ruins their whole dynamic!'

'Well, I don't think that's true… if anything, that'd make their relationship that much stronger.'

'They don't even know each other beyond their masks! They can't possibly love each other without knowing their true identities.'

'So what? We don't know each other's real names.'

'Yeah, and we're not dating. Your point?'

The message doesn't come in the next day like it always does.

In fact, it doesn't come at all.

.

.

Marinette stops by the bookstore every morning.

Then every afternoon.

And even when it's closing time.

She arrives with a hopeful smile, then leaves feeling dejected and upset.

Maybe even angry.

Mister Fu asks her what's wrong.

"I found a stray kitty, and I think he ran away."

.

.

It's two weeks when she finally decides to get over it.

Marinette takes the notebook, a poorly-written #5 on its cover, and decides to throw it away.

She's two steps away from the trash can when she realizes that she can't get rid of it at all.

.

.

A month later, Marinette's taken a job at Fu's Bookstore.

It's a lazy Sunday, and she leans her head on the desk in front of her— eyes almost closing from how quiet it is.

Until the jingle of the door opening effectively wakes her up from her nap.

She rubs her eyes as the stranger walks up to her.

"Hi, I'm looking for this specific book and I just can't find it where I used to, so…"

"Okay, let me help you out," Marinette remarks, before turning to the desktop. "What's the title?"

"I actually don't know…"

She raises an eyebrow, then nods along. (Sure, she's gotten customers like this before.) "Can you describe what the contents are like, then? Or the design of the cover?"

"It's filled with sketches and some nonsense…"

"Nonsense?" Marinette wrinkles her nose. What a cruel way to describe a book someone's worked so hard on.

"I mean—! It's nonsense to everyone else, but not to me. And hopefully not to her either…"

Now, this is dragging on longer than it should.

"Then just describe the cover, please."

He brightens up. "Yeah! It's this bright red book; notebook, really, with the #5 on it? I know it should be around here somewhere, and I need to find it, I need to find a way to connect with her again…"

"..."

"See, I know it's not a real book, and I'm sorry I just snuck it here, but it's so important to me and…"

Marinette mutters unintelligibly.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear…"

She says it again.

"Can you repeat that?"

A third attempt.

"Please, just one more time—"

Visibly irritated, Marinette grabs a book from under her desk and places it in front of him. The number almost gleams as it's exposed to the light.

"That's exactly it! Thank you—"

"You can't have this."

"What?"

"It's my property."

"Look, I know I kept it in your library but…"

"No. We worked on it together, and you got to keep the last four so it's my turn."

"But—

Wait."

He looks up at her, eyes widening in surprise.

"Ladybug?"

She points at her name tag. "Marinette, actually. But hello, Chat. It's been awhile."

[milknette]

day 31 - dealer’s choice (christmas)

i just wanna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

LADYBUG is the only one he's excited to see again.

It's understandable though, since he hadn't wanted to go to the Christmas party in the first place. As his father was busy planning for his trip abroad, it had fallen upon Adrien to spend time and speak with adults who really only cared about him because of his family's wealth and stature.

They're all sickly-sweet and overly-kind to him, though it's intensely clear that if he were anything other than an Agreste, they'd never even give him the time of day.

(It's exhausting to spend time with people who don't even really see you, after all.)

The last straw, however, is when he speaks with a particularly snooty lady who corners him to talk about fashion. The conversation is halfway decent, until she brings up the feathered hat in Gabriel Agreste's newest collection— one she says is, verbatim, "the worst thing she's ever seen featured in a runway," and that "it was clear a high schooler was the one who made it."

Adrien surprises both himself and the lady when he answers back.

"Actually," he starts. "That hat is an inspired and unique work that even my father was in awe of. She may only be a high schooler, but her sense of fashion and style has grown so far past that." Adrien looks at his conversational partner's outfit, then pauses. "And that's one thing about her that… not everyone can say about themselves."

The woman splutters, mutters a few words about disrespect and how his father will hear about this, as she almost stomps away from him.

It's weird that he doesn't feel that bad about it.

"You're going to get in so much trouble for that," someone suddenly speaks up, hands haughtily folded in front of her chest. Beside her is another girl, who stands much more calmly but holds the same level of intimidation.

"That was in poor character for you Adrien," she steps in, eyes still the slightest bit wider from surprise. "I had never expected such behavior to come from you," she continues, then slightly tilts her head to her partner. "I mean, I'd expect it from Chloé, but I thought you'd be able to control yourself better."

Ignoring the indignant 'hey!' from the blonde, Kagami looks at him in worry. "What did she say to you?"

"Just… she said something wrong," he finally replies. "And I corrected her."

"We're not here to correct people, Adrikins," Chloé points out. "We're here to listen and agree and make sure they still want to work with our parents."

Adrien sighs. She's right.

"It's not too late to apologize," Kagami says. "We cannot be any less than the perfect children anyone expects of us."

A brief silence encompasses the three, as the weight of the words crush upon them. It isn't easy being in their position; to always have to watch their behavior, growing up quickly in the elite circles of high society. It's strict and limiting, and Adrien can't imagine not having Chat Noir to let him freely express and be his true self.

He misses staying inside the suit more than he does outside of it.

Or maybe he just misses the girl he sees when he's in the feline's costume.

He knows what she'd do if she were in his position.

"I stand by what I said," Adrien finally says, somewhat determined. "She said something bad about a friend, and I'm not sorry for protecting her." He pauses, then adds as an afterthought: "It's what she would do."

Kagami looks shocked, but nods slowly. "An honorable choice."

"You're going to regret it," Chloé only says, though he can see the hint of a smile on her face. "But I think your superhero crush would be proud of you for doing it."

As if perfectly on cue, an all-too-familiar figure steps through the entrances of the hallway.

Dressed in her token red suit and mask, Ladybug comes in, an awkward (but bright) smile on her face.

She looks absolutely beautiful tonight.

(But she always looks beautiful to him— so nothing's really new.)

"Are you a witch or something?" Kagami whispers under her breath. "Your timing is impeccable."

"I have my Ladybug radar on at all times."

"What about your Ryuuko radar?"

Chloé scoffs, then smiles softly. "Is that even a question?"

At that, the two sneak off, likely to some empty hallway to have time for themselves.

Adrien doesn't mind, watching with awe as Ladybug kindly greets all the guests at the party.

(He thanks the lucky stars that Ladybug had accepted Mayor Bourgeois' invitation, even if she only plans on stopping by briefly.)

They gravitate toward each other, as Adrien is the first to spark conversation.

"It's great you're here Ladybug," he says, almost flustered. "I'm a great fan of yours."

"I'm a great fan of yours too— I mean, you're a model! Right? I've seen you on billboards and stuff… you know, while I'm going around and saving Paris!"

The fact that Ladybug, of all people, is a fan of his civilian self brings Adrien a rush of joy that he never thought possible.

"You have no idea how much you being a fan of mine means to me."

"Believe me, I feel the same way."

They smile at each other, and enter into pleasant conversation.

She's definitely Adrien's favorite conversational partner by far.

They spend a good hour or so simply talking to each other (much to the envy of the other guests), and Adrien feels as if he's on cloud nine.

It's only when they walk to the beverage table that they are interrupted, as Ladybug accidentally bumps into a vase of greenery, consequently getting some of it in her hair.

Adrien leans in to help her, only belatedly noticing how closely they're standing together as whispers seem to surround the two of them.

Then:

"Mistletoe!" Someone suddenly chants, pointing enthusiastically at the two of them.

The rest of the crowd joins in, as Ladybug panickedly waves her hands to say 'no'— though it only serves to intensify the situation. He picks at the red berry upon her head, then smiles softly.

"May I, milady?"

She looks at him with wide-eyed surprise, then nods slowly.

Her eyes close, visibly nervous.

And Adrien presses a kiss to her forehead, before picking out the plant in her hair.

He shows it to the rest of the guests, then smiles. "This is actually holly, not mistletoe." Adrien looks almost mischievous, as they dissipate in disappointment.

"Wait… if you knew it was mistletoe, then why did you kiss me?"

He shrugs, the teasing grin still on his face.

"Maybe I just wanted to."

.

.

ADRIEN comes to pick her up before they go to school.

It's become a kind of strange tradition between them, for him to stop by the bakery every morning and walk with her to Françoise-Dupont. Ever since he was permitted to go to classes on his own— a freedom long overdue, really— he explains that he's been making the most of it as much as he can.

Her parents don't really mind, after all.

In fact, they think Adrien's a good kid, and it helps that someone else is around to make sure their daughter gets to school on time. Sabine and Tom also think that the two of them are pretty cute together, but decide to keep that little factoid to themselves.

Marinette's late, as per usual, stumbling down into the shop as she's greeted by the sight of her boy friend— emphasis on the space— comfortably leaning upon the counter, talking animatedly with his parents about some random topic about the happenings of the previous day.

(Is it strange that she's already getting used to that sight?)

"Marinette!" He notices her first, brightening up as she awkwardly waves at him. He's snuggly wrapped up in a warm jacket and hat, holding a to-go cup of hot chocolate in his hands.

"Morning, Adrien," she says, before quickly planting a kiss to her parents' cheeks. "Mom, dad."

"What? No kiss for Adrien here?"

Marinette splutters, to the amusement of his family— and even Adrien, who quickly coughs into his hand to hide the laughter that threatens to escape his lips.

She can't even say anything, with Adrien finally taking pity on her and tapping on the chair beside him, gesturing for her to take a seat.

"I was just talking with your parents," he starts. "About your plans for the holidays."

"Yes," her mom chimes in, smiling brightly as she leans onto her father. "You know, poor Adrien here doesn't have any plans for Christmas Eve? Mr. Agreste is only coming back from New York on Christmas Day, and I can't imagine how lonely it's going to be…," she side-eyes her husband, then gently nudges him at his blissfully unaware expression.

"Ah, right!" He coughs, then speaks in an almost overly-dramatic way: "How sad for Adrien, if only there was something we could do for him… if only he had somewhere to spend the day…"

Both of Marinette's parents eye her with sad eyes, as she only rubs tiredly at her forehead.

Why are her parents like this?

She takes a side glance to see Adrien, who has a somewhat soft smile on his face. (If anything, he even looks hopeful that she'll say yes.

Which is strange, considering that he can probably spend his Christmas anywhere he so wanted— from all the most lavish Christmas parties and celebrations… maybe she just doesn't understand the rich.

And it's not like she wants to tell him no, either.)

"Are you okay with this?" Marinette finally decides to ask, turning to face him directly.

After years of being friends and spending time together, she's glad to see that her tendency to stutter and stammer (and ultimately fail as a human being) around him has lessened by quite a bit.

But as he sits only a few meters away from her, close enough for her to almost count how many eyelashes he has, she frankly becomes reminded of how little it lessened.

And how her crush on him has only grown exponentially since they first met.

He smiles at her, and she has to physically force down the blush threatening to take over her face.

"Of course I am," he says honestly, maintaining eye contact with her as he leans the slightest bit closer. Marinette can't look away. "There's no place I'd rather be."

She wants to stay in the moment— really, she does— but her parents watching from beside her with the hugest smiles she's ever seen is more than enough to sever the mood.

Coughing awkwardly, she steps back and slings her bag over her shoulder. "That sounds great, then!" She finally says, "Christmas with Adrien Agreste, no big deal, nope! I'd love that— I mean, not that I love you but…," she pauses, then sighs in resignation. "Just. We'd love to have you there."

He laughs lightly, then stands up as well, holding the cup with one hand. He bows lightly to her parents. "It's always nice to talk to you, Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng."

"Please, just call us mom and dad."

They wink, and Marinette decides against turning back so she doesn't have to see their faces. Instead, she grabs Adrien's hand and pulls him forward.

"Let's go," she says, only belatedly realizing that ohmygod they're holding hands and they fit so perfectly together do all fingers intertwine and meld this amazingly—?

They're one foot out the door, when her parents speak up:

"Ahem, Marinette," her mother says, forcing her to turn back.

"What?"

She only smiles, before gesturing for her to look up.

Oh, you've  got  to be kidding me.

At her exhausted expression, Adrien looks at where she's staring:

Consequently noticing the mistletoe hanging above the bakery door.

"Really?"

Her parents look excited.

"I'm not going to—"

Marinette turns to Adrien, fully expecting him to decline as well: until she sees his awkward (though almost… excited?) smile.

His fingers tighten their grip around her own, as he looks down at their intertwined hands.

"It's just a harmless tradition," he says quietly, some sound of amusement resounding from his tone. "A little holiday fun?"

She can't speak.

Is he serious?

He leans closer, and she closes her eyes in anticipation.

Then she feels the unmistakable touch of someone's warm lips.

Upon her hand.

Marinette's eyes flutter open, in time for her to see him press a kiss to her knuckles.

"What?" He asks, almost playful. "Did you expect anything else?"

She can't even speak.

(And thankfully doesn't notice the stifled laughter from behind the counter. Betrayal.)

"Come on, we're going to be late!"

He tugs her forward, as they disappear outside the bakery.

Marinette doesn't realize that Adrien's still holding her hand until they arrive at François-Dupont.

.

.

MARINETTE waits for him outside the balcony.

It's eleven-fifty in the evening as the snow starts to pile up, leaving Marinette to wish she'd put on more layers than her pair of pajamas and a cardigan around her small frame. Her nose is getting red from the cold, but she doesn't quite mind it as much as it should.

Because when she thinks about him, all Marinette can really feel is warmth.

Blonde hair, bright green eyes, and a smile that can bring even the sun to shame…

She's only distracted from her thoughts as a familiar suit of black starts making its way toward her.

He arrives almost clumsily at her balcony, holding a bright-red box in his hands as he furtively tries to hide it from her attention.

(It doesn't work.)

"Chat," she only says, then rolls her eyes. "You're late."

The first thing he does is bow down to her.

"Yes, and I'm so sorry, but I had some issues at home and—"

"Never mind that," she only says instead. "Do you have it?"

He smiles. "Of course I do," he starts, jokingly saluting at her. "Your local delivery man, at your service."

Marinette brightens up almost immediately as the words escape his lips.

"And it's really from him?" She asks, slowly taking the box into her hands.

It's quite small, fitting the palm of her hand, but Marinette knows that whatever's inside— the worth is immeasurable.

She hugs it close to her chest. "I can't believe he got me a Christmas present."

Chat Noir smiles at how excited the girl seems to be. "I— I know he's just really sorry that he couldn't give it to you himself."

"It's fine," Marinette only responds, the soft smile still on her face. "I know that he really wanted to go, and that's more than enough for me."

She recalls how apologetic Adrien had sounded over the phone, after telling her that he couldn't spend Christmas Eve with her family. (If anything, Marinette thought that he sounded more upset than she did about it—

Which is saying a lot, considering that she'd been looking forward to it as soon as he said he'd go.)

She tinkers with the box for a few more moments, then looks up at the superhero.

"Did he tell you what was inside?"

He ponders her question a bit longer than he should have. "Technically, no," he says, then pauses. "But I do know what it is."

"How do you know?!"

Chat Noir smiles lithely. "Let's just say that Adrien and I are similar in a lot of ways."

Marinette has to stop herself from snorting. "Please," she laughs lightly. "The two of you couldn't be any more worlds apart."

"... and what do you mean by that?"

"Adrien's the perfect type," she starts, then stops as she notices the superhero's almost hurt expression.

"So I'm not?"

"Nope," Marinette says easily. "But that's what I admire about you. You're imperfect and messy and chaotic, but you love and embrace your flaws, and even my own. It's so easy to be around you."

"Then Adrien is…?"

"He's kind," Marinette says carefully. "He's the kind of boy everyone dreams of, me included. But I always wished he'd drop his perfect interior in front of me and show his true self."

"The flawed self?"

"Yes. Because I'm sure I'd still love him just as much."

She smiles absentmindedly, then carefully starts to open the box.

Inside is a locket; gold, with a simple ladybug token hanging upon the chain.

Marinette belatedly notices the simple paper put inside the box:

To our Everyday Ladybug—

She turns the paper around.

And my ladybug.

Marinette isn't even given a moment to process the information as she looks away from the box, to notice none other than the boy in question standing before her.

Plagg floats next to him, a cautious expression on his face.

"Adrien, I— you— wait…" He tries to make calming gestures with his hand, giving her time to understand what's happening. "This can't be real…? You— are you really… and Plagg… wait, I thought I wasn't supposed to know your true identity…"

He looks absolutely nervous, and can't even get the words out.

Plagg speaks in his place:

"Sorry for the surprise, kid, but Tikki and I talked it over. With you being the guardian and all, it was only a matter of time before you two find out," then he sighs tiredly. "Adrien found out about your true identity by accident. And after that, he's been insistent on being the one to do the reveal."

"I— but— you— I'm— this is—"

The sudden buzz of Marinette's phone informs them that it's midnight.

"Merry Christmas, Marinette," Adrien finally says, voice soft as he takes her hands. "I love you."

He leans closer to her, as she suddenly stops him.

"Wait— but a kiss— it's too soon, and so out of nowhere…"

Adrien pauses thoughtfully, then smiles; almost mischievous.

He retrieves a pen from his pocket, then takes the box from her hands:

The word 'our everyday ladybug' is crossed out, as a simple word proudly displays itself in black, bold, lettering.

He holds it above their heads.

MISTLETOE.

"Is this enough of a good reason?"

Marinette can't stop herself from laughing. "You couldn't even draw it?"

"I'm not the artist," he only says. "That's your job."

"Then what's yours?"

"I provide the quality humor and flirting, I think."

She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"Fine then," Marinette starts, leaning close to him before…

Pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"The cheek?!"

"You didn't even get real mistletoe. So you don't get the real thing, either."

He hmphs, before his eyes suddenly twinkle. "But if I get real mistletoe, then I'll get a real kiss?"

"As long as it's still Christmas, then sure."

"Great," he grins. "Twenty-four hours then."

.

.

CHAT NOIR looks at her for confirmation.

The mistletoe stands proudly above the two of them as the purified akuma flies away into the night, easily forgotten by the rest of the Parisians.

All they care about— and all he cares about is the girl held in his embrace, as she looks at him with eyes that he can't at all decipher.

(Or maybe he can: but it's too terrifying to think of what things could be if he were wrong.)

From the background, Alya holds her phone as the scene is livestreamed to all the families and friends celebrating their Christmas together.

He leans in close to her, hesitant, as if asking a question.

The outsiders can't make it out, but he whispers in her ear:

"That's real mistletoe," he points out. Then slowly: "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Ladybug doesn't say yes.

She doesn't say no, either.

Instead, she only smiles, leans forward:

Then kisses him.

Alya drops her phone as she throws her fist in the air, and the quiet chill of the city is instantaneously broken with a series of loud celebratory cheers and cries for celebration.

Everyone calls it one of the greatest Christmas miracles of all time—

And neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir can correct them.

[milknette]

day 24 - cursed

love at first sight's for suckers, at least it used to be.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

THE first time Adrien walks into Marinette's shop, she falls in love. And it's in that split moment she realizes something is wrong.

His smile makes her heart soar, the blush coming up to dust her face completely unprompted. She feels herself become giddy with emotion at seeing him face-to-face, but all Marinette can really think about is one thing:

'Wow, that's an extremely potent spell'.

"Someone put a curse on you for love, then?"

The look of relief on his face makes her pause. She's surprised by how strongly her heart's beating at his change in expression, not having reacted so strongly to a curse before.

(Which is saying a lot, considering that Marinette regularly deals with cursed magical items and people on a daily basis. Love spells are nothing new, but it's definitely the first time she's encountered something that's affected her so intensely.)

"Yes," he breathes. "Some young maiden had ambushed me a few days ago and cast a spell upon me, saying something about an unrequited love…"

Marinette laughs softly, before walking over to her shelves to retrieve the necessary items to undo the curse. "As they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned; especially in matters of the heart." She carefully picks out a few vials and herbs, before setting them down on the table.

"I never meant to scorn her…," he says, looking down, visibly bothered by the reality that he had hurt someone. Marinette finds it adorable.

Because of the love spell, of course.

"I simply didn't want to lead her on with false hopes of romance." He pauses. "I want to pursue a relationship with someone I truly love."

"Maybe I could be that person."

They both look up. Marinette; the more surprised between the two of them.

"Sorry, the curse is rather powerful. Forgive my boldness."

He looks caught off-guard, and she'd daresay claim that his cheeks were turning somewhat red as well. Adorable.

"I, uh," he nervously adjusts his collar, then coughs into his hand. "Of course. This curse is quite a handful to deal with. Do you have customers, uh, like me, that often?"

Marinette hums. "Mhm. Love spells are quite common these days," she muses, before beginning to put the ingredients into a large pot. "Especially with the Festival of Saint Valentine coming soon. Many novice witches and sorcerers chanting spells they have absolutely no business handling, and for such selfish reasons... ," she pauses thoughtfully. "It's no wonder their spells go awry."

"Is that what happened to me?"

She nods. "The young maiden who cursed you likely wanted you to fall in love with her— though it did backfire to have everyone fall for you instead. Had she done the spell correctly, fixing this wouldn't be so easy." Marinette notices her customer shudder, then laughs lightly. "Not to worry, even the most experienced mages have difficulty conjuring such a curse." She stares at him directly, a hint of a smile teasing the edge of her lips as a heart-shaped puff of smoke escapes her concoction.

"Love is the most powerful magic in the world, after all."

He looks absolutely flustered.

Putting the potion into a small container, Marinette hands it over to him. "Drink this before you go to bed, and the spell should wear off by the time you wake up the next day.

"... thank you." He starts, handing her a few gold coins before turning back to the exit.

Something in Marinette's veins— the effects of the spell, maybe (but it feels much deeper than that), tells her to call after him.

"Not to be so forward, but I would appreciate knowing the name of the man I've fallen in love with."

She can see him almost drop the vial.

He turns back, a graceful flush of red taking over his features.

"I, uhm, I'm—!" He looks absolutely mortified, but manages to stutter the words out. "Adrien. I'm Adrien. I'm a visitor from the neighboring kingdom, because I've been told of your mastery with curse-breaking…"

"So you went all the way to our kingdom for me? I'm flattered."

"Well…!"

Marinette's laughing, face bright.

"It's great to meet you, Adrien. I do hope that you visit again, though hopefully without a curse this time around." She doesn't know what makes her do it, because in any other circumstances she absolutely wouldn't, but Marinette winks. "I would like to fall for you properly, the next time around."

He's entirely speechless by the time she's done talking, only nervously muttering incoherently as he makes over-the-top gestures with his hands.

Cute.

Adrien bumps into the door on his way out.

"I, uh, ah, uhm… thanks a lot, then, bye!"

.

.

When Marinette wakes up in the morning, her first realization is that she's experiencing a pretty severe bout of complete and absolute embarrassment.

Memories of her so openly flirting with a man, much less one that she had only just met, begins haunts every crevice of her mind. She's not that bold? She's not the forward type, especially when it comes to romance? How strong was that damned love spell, to drastically change her character like that?!

And to experience a complete three-sixty in personality because of a man? (No matter how adorable and borderline-perfect that man may be…)

Marinette's second, and admittedly belated, realization is that her head remains to be full of thoughts of Adrien Agreste.

Specifically, thoughts of meeting him again as they both run away into the sunset together.

Even the mere thought of him makes her face explode into a shade of crimson she never thought possible to bloom on a human.

So he forgot to take the potion, then.

If she's still in love with him, after all, then it must mean the curse is still active.

It's the only logical reason, after all.

Why else would she continue to think about him?

Oh well, maybe he'll remember again tomorrow.

(And maybe the panic over his thoughts of her will disappear, too.)

But when another day passes, then a week, then two, without any change in her feelings…

Marinette makes another, albeit much more panicked, realization that maybe he had taken the vial after all.

And if the spell is broken, while she's still thinking of him (in increasingly more and more romantic scenarios)…

Oh.

Well, that's not good.

[milknette]

day 23 - dance

i just want to hold you, and never let you go.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

"WHAT'S the big deal? Just ask Madame Bustier if you can stop by tomorrow, and you can get it then."

It's clear that Alya thinks she's overreacting.

But if anything, Marinette's convinced she's underreacting.

"I need my sketchbook, Alya," she tries to explain, waving her hands in the air. "That has all my sketches for my assignment… (and then some). Maybe I should just go back—"

"Oh, no way. It's already late, and the dance studio's closed already, so it'll be pointless to go all the way back now. Besides," Alya starts, looking at her in slight amusement. "I know you're not panicking because of your art class."

"... what do you mean?"

"Please, Mari," she rolls her eyes. "You can't hide it from me. Whenever I pick you up from class, you're only ever drawing one thing." She pauses for dramatic effect. "Or… one person."

"Ahahahhaha what are you talking about? I'm only there to do my assignment, you know, to draw dancers. I'm not all that picky with who I'm drawing, I'm just there to make sure that my sketches are as realistic and graceful as they can be, and if it just so happens that they're all centralized to one person, it is completely coincidental and means absolutely nothing. Whatsoever. Not. At. All."

Her best friend only shakes her head, a teasing smile glaringly obvious as she drives down the road. "Oh, of course. You having a crush on the guy playing Prince Seigfried for Swan Lake… definitely not. Impossible. Unthinkable. How dare I even suggest that? I'm so sorry for assuming such a thing."

She doesn't look sorry at all.

Alya can feel Marinette's unenthused glare the whole trip back to their apartment.

She laughs.

"Oh come on, you're worrying too much. The chances of your prince finding your thousands of portraits of him are slim to none. So calm down."

Well, maybe she has a point.

But knowing her luck for these things, she doesn't really keep her hopes up.

.

.

Marinette arrives at the ballet studio at nine in the morning.

Madame Bustier informs her that she'll have her assistant show up early to open the atelier. She apologizes for being unable to be there herself, but she doesn't really mind.

As long as she gets her sketchbook back.

She sits outside one of the benches, rubbing her hands together carefully to keep warm. It's a few weeks into the winter months, and she found herself wearing too few layers to shield herself from the cold.

A sudden tap on her shoulder.

"Marinette, right? I'm Madame Bustier's assistant."

She freezes. (Haha, funny, because it's cold, right.)

"So, I found your sketchbook…"

She slowly turns around.

The premier male dancer of Bustier's Ballerina Company smiles at her, almost awkwardly. His cheeks are dusted a little red, and she can't decide whether it's from the cold or from the whole situation.

(She hopes, with all her heart, it's the former.)

"You're a super talented artist! I especially liked the sketch where I looked like I was about to kiss someone?"

Actually, freezing to death doesn't sound so bad right now.

.

.

He offers to have her come inside the studio.

(Well, it isn't as much an offer as it is a demand; after noticing how cold she is outside, he insists on making her a cup of something to warm her up. He even offers his scarf for her to use.

Marinette's still reeling from the realization that she's talking to her sketches in the flesh.)

"So… what would you like?"

You. A tall, heaping, glass of you.

"I, uh… sorry, what do you have available?"

The ballerina laughs lightly, before sifting through the drawers in the office as he glances over at her. "Well, we have some tea, coffee, hot chocolate…"

They both notice her face light up at the third option.

He's smiling. "So, hot chocolate, then?"

She swallows in a terrible attempt to calm herself down. "Yeah… that'd be nice."

"A sweet tooth, huh?" He muses, evidently amused. "Suits you."

What's that supposed to mean?

Marinette decides not to dwell on it too long, as he places a warm cup in front of her, sitting across the small table.

He decides to initiate conversation.

"I'm sorry for looking through your sketchbook," he starts, apologetic. "I had no idea who owned it, and I originally only planned to look through the pages for your name, but… I couldn't help myself."

"I… it's okay." She pauses, taking a nervous sip of her hot chocolate. "But, uh, what did you think?" Marinette's horrified to notice that she's stuttering. "About my drawings, I mean... "

"Well, I meant what I said earlier. I think you're insanely talented," he smiles. "And I'm flattered, really. I haven't had anyone draw me like that before."

"Nobody's drawn you before?"

"Not as much as you have."

Marinette almost drops her mug, panicking as she tries to stop her face from exploding into a mess of reds and scarlet.

"I, we, uhm, well, I— you're a super hot, I mean handsome, I mean! An extremely talented ballerina… ballerino… uh, what's the word again?"

She's spiralling, she knows it, but he only serves to look entertained.

"Ballerina is good," he says easily. "And it's Adrien."

"I'm sorry?"

"Adrien," he repeats, then points at himself. "My name? In case you didn't know…" he laughs softly. "In your sketchbook, you kept referring to me in your notes as Prince."

Oh, right.

She's never so intensely wished to disappear off the face of the earth!

"That's, uh! Because of your role in Swan Lake! Right! The Prince, so of course I called you that in my sketchbook… totally not because I think you actually look like a real prince or anything, haha, definitely not!"

Adrien's catlike grin only grows. "Of course," he repeats. "... milady."

Marinette almost falls off her chair.

She wants to disappear, just the tiniest bit.

He suddenly walks over to her, the same amused expression on his face.

"So I hope you'll be watching our opening night next weekend?"

"I, uh, I wanted to, but I couldn't get tickets…"

"Well, I actually have a plus one as the lead… and if you're interested, maybe you'd want to come with me?"

"Plus one, so as in, a, uh…"

"It's a front row seat, so you do get the perfect view," Adrien pauses, then winks. Winks. At her. "For your posing references, of course."

"I, uh, right, of course."

What else was she expecting?

"Then we can have dinner together after."

"Wait."

"I'll pick you up?"

"Wait."

"Don't have a carriage fit for a princess, unfortunately, but I will treat you like one."

"... that's a little corny."

"So I'll take that as a yes?"

"... I'd absolutely love to."

[milknette]

day 11 - star-crossed lovers

if my love was just a curse, then i have only tears to shed.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

"PLEASE, dearest, tell me the truth."

Marinette doesn't even look up as he speaks, his voice echoing from the otherwise empty dungeon.

"For what reason?" She asks, instead. "It seems you've chosen your side." Marinette spares him a passing glance, and it's so cold he almost takes a step back. "Who to believe."

"I was given no other choice!" He argues, holding almost desperately onto the bars that prevented him from holding her directly. "Lila is trusted by the people— trusted by my father, even! She's—"

"The divine messenger," Marinette finishes for him, though her tone drips of venom and nothing of the kindness he had known from her prior. Had he truly been fooled? "The woman who claims to speak directly to God." She laughs to herself; bitterly, almost angrily. "And yet it is I who is considered the heretic."

At that point, Marinette keeps eye contact.

Her stare is sharp and icy; the warm ocean blue he had familiarized himself with nowhere to be seen.

"How foolish."

Adrien grips the bars tighter. "Then tell me she's wrong," he pleads. "Tell me that you hadn't… that you're not…"

"Not what?" Marinette asks, voice almost terrifyingly devoid of emotion. "Tell me, dearest, what crime you've accused me of." She rages with quiet ferocity. "Tell me what I've done that justifies being treated like a monster." Her tone borders on cruel. "Say it."

They stare at each other, neither willing to back down. Accusing her outright, he knows, means that there's no turning back. There's a finality that comes with speaking it aloud— a finality that quite clearly meant that whatever they had with each other (if anything) is over.

So, Adrien ends it.

"That you've enchanted me to fall in love with you."

The words hang in the air, becoming much heavier when said aloud. He continues, quiet. "That I've been cursed to give my heart to a witch."

Marinette's strangely silent.

Then, almost vulnerable, she asks it:

"Was the possibility of you loving me so outlandish that only a curse could make it so?"

For a moment, he almost sees his Marinette; kind, loving, honest, and who he had loved so purely.

"Do you despise me?"

The 'no' escapes his mouth before he can even register it, shocking both of them.

Adrien knows he should hate her; loathe her for the sins she's committed to the kingdom— to him.

But he also knows confidently that his feelings are the complete opposite.

The only question that remains is whether that feeling of love to her is genuine.

He sighs, dropping down to his knees. He leans his head against the prison bars, exhausted. "I could never despise you," Adrien mutters, almost as if he were saying it to himself. "And that's the problem."

"Adrien, I—"

Then he faces forward, staring directly at her. "And you misunderstood," he starts. "I never believed the curse because I could never love you."

He smiles, though all he can really feel is the crushing sadness that threatens to bury himself whole.

"I believed the curse because I never knew I could love someone that much."

The silence is deafening.

Then, a single tear rolling down a cheek.

And in a moment, it becomes an overwhelming torrent of them.

Marinette finally breaks down, collapsing onto the floor as her body's wracked with sobs.

Adrien's never wished so terribly that he had some cataclysmic power to destroy the cell holding her hostage, and to hold her in his arms.

So instead he watches, almost helplessly, as she puts herself back together.

It only takes a moment.

(She never did make it his business to see her vulnerable; Marinette believed it to be the most intense form of intimacy, and she had always been too scared to take that step.

Now he knew her fears weren't unfounded at all.)

"I'm sorry," she finally says, after what seems like an eternity. "I had never meant… for any of this to happen."

He laughs lightly. "I don't think anyone could have expected this outcome," he says. "I'd have thought our story would finish with a completely different ending, really."

Marinette smiles, wiping her cheeks with a tattered cloak. "And what would that be?"

"The palace," Adrien hums. "I take over my father, and rule on my rightful place as king."

"How wonderful." She says, features softening. "Though I do recall you saying this was our story? How would I fit in?"

"Every king needs his queen."

"Perhaps Lila can fill that role."

They both share a laugh.

"No… only one person can fill that role, truly." Adrien stares at her, almost nervous, as he speaks up. "And that woman—"

"— is someone you'll find someday," Marinette interrupts, before standing back up. "Whoever she is, I hope she realizes how lucky she is to have someone so lovely by her side."

Marinette cups his cheeks, and the warmth that spreads throughout his body only yells his deepest desires:

How could  this  be evil?

She smiles, then presses a kiss to his forehead.

"I now release you from this curse, Prince Adrien of the Agreste Kingdom," Marinette begins. "Now live and love freely, without this monstrous witch to hold you back."

"Wait, Marinette—"

"There he is!"

Lila comes bursting through the entrance to the dungeon, a string of guards on her trail.

She immediately runs to him, almost yanking him away from her cell.

"My dearest prince," Lila cries, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I've been so worried! I've prayed and spoken with God, who by His gracious heart, has told me where you've been kept captive."

A snort.

The nun seethes at that sound, suddenly turning to face Marinette, eyes glassy with anger. "And you!" She growls, walking forward to roughly grab Marinette by her dress' collar; almost strangling the girl as she's held up. "Release Adrien from his curse, you damned witch—"

"Lila, stop!" Adrien pulls her away, allowing Marinette to be thrown back; coughing and breathing deeply as she falls to the floor. "There's no need to be cruel."

She glares at Marinette, before letting go.

"Fine." Lila says, though the lack of remorse on her expression is evident. She reaches upward and holds the cross on her necklace, rubbing it almost too intensely. "I'm confident that the Lord will pass upon her fair judgment."

At that she latches on to Adrien, then grins. "Now come with me, I have some great rituals to help remove the horrid stench of that witch from you."

He only nods, silent, as he's led upstairs.

He turns back.

"Goodbye, Marinette."

It physically hurts him to see her smile.

"Goodbye, Prince Adrien."

.

.

"Marinette, you are henceforth being trialled as a witch. What say you to this claim?"

"If it is a sin to love, then I will gladly admit I am guilty of it."

"Then we shall take that as your acceptance of the accusation. Prince Adrien, as the victim, what say you?"

"..."

"Prince Adrien?"

"..."

"See, he is clearly under the spell of this witch! We must kill her now to free him! Do it now!"

"Here, here!"

"No…"

"Kill the witch!"

"Wait…"

"Burn her at the stake!"

"... Don't!"

Screams, fire, a vision of black, then—

Nothing.

She's gone.

.

.

A dark red scarf flying in the wind.

A hand outstretched, grabbing it from the air.

A woman, running over.

A man, falling in love.

Between them, something is lit.

It begins the same way it ends.

In flames.

[milknette]

day 14 - social media

call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ff.net

@TheLadyblog: SPOTTED! 🐞 Our favorite superhero duo spending the night together patrolling the streets of Paris!

[Replies]

@chatonoir: haha we look like a couple here

@maridc: Yeah... a couple of besties!

(...)

@maridc: WAIT

.

.

Marinette is panicking.

Which is normal because frankly, she's an extremely panicky person—

But this is something else entirely.

Because for all her blunders and mistakes, accidentally replying to Chat Noir from her personal account is very likely the worst of them all.

She's only too glad that she doesn't have many followers.

It takes almost five minutes for her to realize her mistake and immediately delete the message.

Maybe he didn't see it. Chat Noir has a lot of followers, after all. (Not as much as Ladybug, of course.) But him singling out her message, some nobody teenage girl from Paris, is completely unlikely.

Her phone rings.

@chatonoir wants to send you a message!

Well, there goes her superhero identity down the drain.

.

.

Chat Noir @chatonoir

- a couple of besties, huh?

Chat, I can explain…

- do ladybug and i really look like we're just friends :(

WhaT

- i thought we looked cute but i guess that was just me

…

Is that the only reason why you messaged me?

- yeah why else would i have

…

NOTHING

Nothing at all! :-)

- okay ,, ?

- so …. do we really not look like we have chemistry? i think me holding her in my arms is purretty romantic

You're only doing that because she had cramps, though.

- how did you know that?

UH

Alya told me! The owner of the Ladyblog?

She's a Ladybug superfan, and happened to tell me in passing.

- oh yeah alya does know a lot about us

You know her?

- uh

- of course ! she's my favorite reporter :)

She does throw herself into danger a lot, though.

- yeah, she should really stop doing that nino keeps worrying

You know Nino? And their relationship?

- YEAH

- REMEMBER OBLIVIO?

- FIGURED THEY WERE DATING FROM THERE :DD

… Okay?

Calm down on the uppercase, it hurts to see the letters screaming at me like that.

- oh, sorry

- didnt know that made you uncomfortable

Well, we don't really know each other, after all.

- right!

HAha, exactly!

.

.

The next day in class, Madame Bustier has them form groups and write their favorite phrases on a piece of paper.

When Nino starts writing 'ÊTRE CREVÉ', Adrien offers to write instead, pointing out that he has better handwriting.

Marinette watches with interest as he puts down his favorite phrase.

coup de foudre

(love at first sight)

.

.

Chat Noir @chatonoir

- i dont get why you dont just tell him:\\

I told you, he doesn't like me that way!

- you cant be sure until you ASK

- marinette dupain-cheng go out there and ask your crush out on a date

- get a boyfriend i feel sorry for you

Bold words for someone who's also single?

- for NOW

- ladybug and my story has just begun3

Hasn't she been clear enough about her feelings already?

- i know, but you cant help who youre in love with right?

Right.

.

.

"Adrien, do you, uh, want to get some ice cream together at Andre's later?!"

He looks up in surprise, then smiles. "Sounds perfect!" Adrien beams. "My fencing classes cancelled, so I'm free! Let's call Alya and Nino; maybe they can go too—

"Actually!" 'Marinette starts, looking down almost bashfully. "I was hoping it could just be the two of us…"

"Oh?"

"... justasfriendsofcoursenothingmoreobviously!"

Adrien smiles again, though it's the slightest bit more teasing than usual.

"Sure," he replies. "Let's go after class."

.

.

Chat Noir @chatonoir

- hey, are you okay?

Haha, how did you know?

- call it a cat's intuition

- want to talk about it?

He loves someone else.

- i'm sorry

…

What are you sorry for? It's not your fault. :)

- right…

Well, I guess it's just time to move on, then?

I'm sure there are better people for me out there!

- how are you so positive after having your heart broken?

I learned it from you.

And besides, soulmates always find a way to come back to each other.

.

.

She doesn't want to know his true identity, at first.

But Tikki is adamant that the Guardian needs to know all holders. Including him.

"It's not fair that I get to know who he is, when he doesn't even know the real me."

"You're okay with hiding it from Kagami, Nino— even Alya! What makes him so different?"

She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Because it's Chat Noir. He's my partner."

"Well, nobody's stopping you from telling him."

"You won't stop me?"

"That's not something I get to decide. What does your heart tell you, Marinette?"

"..."

When Chat Noir detransforms into Adrien Agreste in front of her, the first thing Ladybug does is run.

.

.

- are you okay?

- marinette?

- please, not you too

- i cant stand losing you too

…

- i miss you

Message seen.

.

.

@OfficialLadybug wants to message you.

- I'm sorry for running away.

i would like an explanation

- And I'll give you one. I just want to say this:

- I missed you too.

…

… are you serious?

- I did say soulmates always find a way to come back to each other, after all.

- I'm sorry I just took a little longer to do it.

- Furgive me?

hdkdnc you KNOW how weak i am for cat puns

- :D

- So… we're good?

FINE.

but on one condition.

.

.

@TheLadyblog: SPOTTED! 🐞 Our favorite superhero duo spending the night together patrolling the streets of Paris!

[Replies]

@chatonoir: haha we look like a couple here

@OfficialLadybug: Yeah… we do.

"Are you happy now?"

"I'm feline amazing."

"... you're lucky I love you."

"I know," Adrien grins, before pressing a quick kiss to her lips. He smiles at her flustered expression. "I really am."

[milknette]

day 08 - secret dating

you secret's safe and no one, has to know i’m your getaway.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

IT happens gradually, then all at once.

First, it starts with Mylene and Ivan. Wholesome. And, Alya and Nino. Perfect. Then, Juleka and Rose. Adorable.

But afterwards, it somehow extends further; to people outside of their class. Nathaniel and Marc. Kim and Ondine. Sabrina and some boy in another class. Even Chloé had gotten a girlfriend over the summer, with Kagami finally accepting her after months of the former's wooing.

By the time they all return to class, Marinette, to her complete surprise (and in some parts, horror), finds that the apparent theme for their return to class is romance— and as far as everyone else is concerned, she's the exception.

(Except that Marinette's not. Not really— though she can't exactly yell that truth into the sky or anything.)

Instead, she huffs, braves through the lovey-dovey atmosphere, and takes a seat.

Only for Alya to rush right beside her, Nino in tow, to completely rub it in her face.

"Someone looks a little sour today," she smirks, eyes bright with amusement. "Not liking being back to school?"

"I just don't understand what happened to everyone after the break!" Marinette complains, waving her hands around in evident confusion. "What made everyone so weird!?"

"Love," Alya shrugs, saying it almost too simply. "Everyone spent their respective summer together, and dating just came as the most natural step." She turns to Marinette, shaking her head. "And if anything, you're the weird one here! Girl, you're the only single one left."

Well, she begged to differ.

Marinette shakes her head, then points at a pair at the other side of the room. "What about Max and Alix? They aren't dating anyone either!"

Alya rolls her eyes. "They're not interested in dating, remember?" She points out. "It's their choice to be single. You're single because you have no choice."

"That's not true, I—!"

"You…?"

Marinette pauses mid-sentence, and after an evident battle with herself, finally heaves a sigh of defeat. "Nothing," she finally grumbles, looking down.

God, the whole superhero-secret-identity thing was increasingly becoming a pain to deal with.

And the whole  superhero-dating-superhero  thing made it all  that much  more complicated.

"So I'm right," Alya decides to settle their conversation, crossing her arms over her chest. Marinette can't protest, and she only nods, though her expression shows anything but agreement.

"Fine," Marinette exhales, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. "But it's not that easy to find someone to date! I'm busy, and I don't really know anyone else my age outside of here," she gestures at the school. "And as you said, they're all taken. So I guess I'll just have to wait!"

She hopes that's enough to get Alya off her case.

Her best friend did take more kindly to reasoning and logic rather than a straightforward I don't want to date (because I have a boyfriend), after all.

But to her soon-to-be-realized horror, Marinette's statement does the complete opposite.

Alya shares a glance with her boyfriend, who smiles and nods. "Glad that's the only reason you're not out dating!"

"... why?"

She slides a paper through the desk. The glaring letters, couples coupon!, instill in Marinette a feeling of dread she never felt even in previous battles with Hawkmoth and the akumas.

This can't be real.

"Because that means you can't say no," she grins.

This is a joke.

"Tomorrow afternoon, at the café we visited last weekend," she continues.

This is a misunderstanding.

"Nino's friend will meet you there."

This isn't what she thinks it'll be, of course.

"Have fun on your blind date!"

Damn it, Alya.

.

.

Ladybug stops outside Adrien's room, and knocks on the window.

He's barely awake when he walks over, but the sleep almost fades away immediately as they lock eyes. Instead, he beams and runs toward the window, unlocking it so she can enter.

"What are you doing, Milady?" He asks, eyes sparkling. "I thought we weren't patrolling tonight?"

"We need to talk," she instead says.

Adrien panics. "Wait," he begins to flounder. "If this is because you're disappointed that I'm me— that I'm Adrien Agreste, I promise that I can be better, please don't take my Miraculous, or even worse, break up with me, milady, I love you so, so, much and…"

"What? No," Ladybug's quick to shake her head. "I'm not breaking up with you."

She can almost hear the relieved exhale that escapes his mouth. "Oh, phew! That would've been a catastrophe…"

Ladybug feels a smile form on her face. "So, losing me is even worse than losing your Miraculous, huh?"

He's flustered. "I mean— I do take my job seriously! And I love being Chat Noir. It's just that… I can't lose you, either." Adrien walks toward her, then presses a kiss to her knuckles. "Milady, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

She flushes red, then looks away. "Same to you."

Adrien beams, then sits down, gesturing for her to sit next to him. "So what did you want to talk about?"

It's hard to decide what to say. So she decides to tell it to him straight.

"I'm going on a date with someone else tomorrow."

It's a terrible idea.

He panics, again. "Wait, so you're not breaking up with me, so… you want an open relationship?" Adrien looks almost scandalized. "I'm not sure how I feel about sharing you with anyone else…"

"No!" Ladybug interrupts, shaking her head vehemently. "It's just… for my civilian identity. My friend wants me to go on a blind date, and she can't know that about you, so…," She sighs, then looks down at her lap. "I had no choice, I'm sorry."

Ladybug's surprised when his hands come to hold her own. "Hey, as long as you know you're meowne," he smiles. "And I'm yours— I don't see a problem with it."

She's about to thank him, when he suddenly continues. "You know, this wouldn't be an issue if you just told me who you were…"

"You know I can't do that."

"But you know my true identity!" Adrien argues, gesturing to himself. "I don't understand why I can't know yours."

"I know because I'm the Guardian," Ladybug tries to reason with him. "That's the reason I know everyone else who holds it—"

"But I'm not like them." Adrien finally argues, sighing as the words leave his mouth. "We got our Miraculous together. We were partners, before we became a team of superheroes. I was here for you, with you, since the beginning. And… I thought you trusted me."

The last part comes almost as a whisper, but she can hear it loud and clear. Ladybug takes a deep breath and shifts, staring him in the eye. "I do trust you," she attempts to explain. "It's just… complicated."

"What is?!"

"I don't want you to be disappointed with me!" Ladybug finally shouts, shrinking back as her statement hangs in the air.

Adrien's at a loss for words, and before he can even attempt to respond, Ladybug tears her hands away and stands. When he gets his bearings, she's already one foot outside the window.

"I'm sorry," she only says. "I think I just… I just need to process everything." Ladybug smiles, though it's evidently conflicted. "I'll see you soon, Chat."

Then, without another word, she leaves.

.

.

Marinette paces in front of the cafe, thumbs twiddling together in apparent nervousness.

Her mind's full. She can't concentrate on the impending date at all— her conversation with Adrien, with Chat Noir, still as fresh in her memory, replaying in her mind as if it were a bad omen.

She yawns, a direct result of a dire lack of sleep. Marinette spent the majority of the night speaking with Tikki, seeking her advice on the matter; and her only response was, "listen to your heart".

Marinette knows what her heart says. What her heart yearns for.

She just doesn't know if she has the strength to say it.

When a stranger calls her, it takes three times for him to say her name until she notices.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

That was probably her date, then.

Holding back the intense need to snap at him, Marinette takes a deep breath. She smiles, then turns toward him.

"Yes, that's me. You're Nino's friend, the—?"

She pauses.

Everything seems to slow down and fade away. The world stills. Her mind stops.

All she can see is him.

"I— uh," Adrien scratches his head. "Yeah, that's me. Sorry, I had no idea this was a date, Nino just told me I was meeting a friend until a few minutes ago, and…," he flounders.

Now that was familiar.

"I'm just in love with someone else, so I don't think I can go through with this, I'm so sorry I made you come all this way—"

"You always did apologize too much."

Adrien looks up, evidently confused. "I'm sorry, have we met before…?"

"So you love me, but you can't recognize me at all, huh?"

"No way…"

Marinette smiles, and it's a mix of nervousness and excitement and fear and love and everything else all at once. "Hi, kitty," she begins. "I hope this isn't too disappointing, but…"

She can't say another word, because suddenly she's being scooped up and carried as Adrien holds her in his arms. He's beaming, and his eyes are almost overflowing with joy.

Marinette feels her heart full. When he sets her down, his hands never leave her waist.

"Milady," he breathes, burying his nose into her neck. "I love you— so much."

"My chaton," Marinette replies, full of care. Full of joy. Full of admiration and awe that this was truly happening. That the fates had worked completely in their favor.

"I love you too."

[milknette]

day 05 - bed sharing

bed! bed! i couldn’t go to bed, my head’s too light to try to set it down

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

MARINETTE knows who's knocking at her balcony door before they even introduce themselves.

Because only one person ever knocks on her balcony door.

She sighs, not even spending a moment's hesitation before shouting out, "it's open!", to whoever's outside. If Marinette's correct, and she knows she is, then he's not quite worth leaving the comfort of her bed for. And besides— she was finally getting to the good part of what she was reading.

The sudden vision of black that enters her sight only confirms her suspicions.

Marinette doesn't bother looking up from her book. "What do you want, Chat?"

Chat Noir laughs at her curt response, easily walking over to pick the book from her hands. "Meowch, what's got you so cold, huh, Marinette?" He asks, pointedly ignoring her irritated stare. "Didn't you mewss me?"

She takes the book back and rolls her eyes. "You'd have to actually leave for me to miss you."

"I did leave!"

"Yeah," Marinette replies dryly. "Last night. And the night before that. And the night before that. What does Ladybug think of you always stopping by here instead of patrolling like she asked, huh?"

"It's not like I'm not doing my job," Chat Noir shoots back, making it a point to sit next to her on the bed. "I'm protecting the innocent citizens," he points out, gesturing towards her. "Like you."

Marinette scoffs, then pushes him off. "Please, I can protect myself."

"Sure," he begins, an unentertained expression on his face as he tries to get himself back up. "But you can't do it in the same way a superhero like I can."

Ha! If he only knew.

Undaunted by his statement, Marinette puts her book down then peers over him at the edge. There's a twinkle in her eye, and a clearly amused look adorning her features. "Ah yes, how lucky am I that one of the superheroes of Paris stops by my house every night—," Chat Noir looks proud of himself, "— to steal my snacks, hog my bed, and basically regularly annoy and stop me from enjoying my peace and quiet! Like a regular housecat."

Chat Noir tries to protest, but the bar of chocolate he had swiped from her study desk was more than enough proof for the two of them to know that she wasn't wrong.

Instead, he embraces it.

"Then please let me back on your bed, my owner?"

Marinette shivers. In distaste. "Ew. Gross. Never call me that again," she warns him, before shrugging to herself. "And besides, I got you a gift."

"Really!?" (The sudden excitement surprises Marinette, and she could almost swear that she saw his tail belt wag at the sudden news.)

Instead, she smiles and kneels down, before pulling out an air mattress from underneath her own bed. It's plain and black (and frankly doesn't look all that comfy), but they both know what it's coming to.

"I'm not going to—"

"Stay here!" Marinette says easily, patting the mattress next to her. "I got it just for you! Aren't you happy?"

Chat Noir's look of displeasure speaks volumes. Marinette simply decides that she cannot hear it.

"No way."

"Why not!?"

"Because it doesn't look comfy at all!" He argues, before adopting an almost completely whiny tone. "Your bed is so much better!"

"And it's only for one person, so if you want to stay here, then you have no choice but to stick with it."

At that, Marinette smiles triumphantly, before climbing onto her own bed and picking up her book again. "Now don't bother me, I'm at the good part and you talking will ruin it."

Chat Noir sighs, but defeated, crawls onto the mattress.

It almost gives under his weight.

Uncomfy.

.

.

Chat Noir likes watching Marinette read.

It's the way that she becomes completely obsessed with it, almost as if all her surroundings (unfortunately including him) simply melted away. He loves her expressions, however, most of all— how she bites her lips during suspenseful scenes, knits her eyebrows together when a page makes her angry, and quickly wipes her face with her sleeve whenever she comes across a moment that's rather emotional makes her emotional. (Marinette makes it a point to never cry in front of him— probably to exert some sense of superiority over him. Cute.)

However, when Marinette suddenly sits up, leaning closer, eyes widening… those are the scenes that she's excited for the most. The scenes that make or break the whole book. The ones that she'll remember forever. And the ones that she'd absolutely commit murder if she were interrupted for.

So of course, it's at that exact moment Chat Noir grabs her arm and pulls her over.

As expected, she basically screams as she rolls downward, making face-to-face contact with the air mattress she supplied him with.

Completely unexpected, however, is for Marinette's sudden weight to make so much impact that he's suddenly bounced upward…

And consequently thrown off the bed, face-planting the hero onto the floor of her room.

"What the hell was that for?" Marinette almost screeches, as she begins to get her bearings. "I was on the page where he almost confessed his love to her!"

Chat Noir only looks dazed— still in shock over suddenly being thrown into the air.

He looks at her, then offers a lopsided smile.

"You wouldn't share the bed."

"You want the bed?" Marinette asks, seething, as she begins to grab at the mattress. He's surprised to see that her body can hold the weight.

She inches closer to him, as the mattress— and Marinette— begin to look more threatening.

"Then I'll give you the bed."

"NO, MARI, WAIT—!"

And without a moment's notice, Chat Noir's met with a face full of mattress.

Then pillow, and blanket, and bedsheet.

And the next time Chat Noir tries to come over, Marinette locks the door.

[milknette]

day 28 - road trip

but i can't help but drive away from all the mess you made, you sent this hurricane now it won't go away.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

"ISN'T owning a Bug a little too on the nose for you?"

Marinette only huffs at the statement, before opening the passenger seat to her car— a Volkswagen Beetle, vibrantly painted red with minor black accents. It really says Ladybug in every sense of the word, but thankfully, most only assume that she's a major fan or that it's purely coincidental. ("Because Marinette can't be that superheroine, of course. She's too _.")

Honestly, she doesn't know whether to feel grateful or insulted by the notion.

(It's fun, though: to see how far she can go without them figuring out her identity.)

Across her, Adrien smiles softly.

He's making jokes now, to Marinette's absolute relief. But it's not as genuine; she can still see the exhaustion under his eyes, the low tilt of his mouth, and the downcast expression his face wears, no matter how desperately he tries to hide it.

Adrien opens the back of the car, throwing in a bag of random necessities— clothes, toiletries, snacks, and whatever else one would haphazardly pack for a last-minute trip for god-knows-how-long.

Marinette already has a pre-packed bag for things in case of emergencies (Hawkmoth may have stopped being active, but it always helps to be prepared), so it doesn't really take much time for her to be ready to leave. She figures they'll be gone for the weekend, maybe a few more days, but guesses that it won't be for long.

(To be sure, though, Marinette leaves her parents a long-winded message that she's going out to Alya's. They've become all but too accustomed to her sudden and unexplainable disappearances, having long since accepted that they aren't privy to their daughter's whole affairs.

They assume she's got a secret boyfriend. She can't explain how intensely she wishes that it were true.)

Whatever the case, however, Marinette only wants to see her partner happy.

As friends, of course.

They both get in the car, with Marinette taking the driver's seat. She starts the engine, then turns to face him.

"So, where to?"

He shrugs. "I don't really mind where we go," Adrien starts, before sighing softly to himself. "As long as it's anywhere but here."

Marinette only nods, then starts forward.

She doesn't know where she's going, but decides that maybe (for the first time in life), it'd be better to go forward without a plan in mind.

.

.

The call arrived at five in the morning, through Ladybug's phone.

Her first instinct was that it was an akuma attack.

But when she picked up the phone, worried for the citizens of Paris, she steadily realized she should only be worried about one of them.

"Do you remember when we joked about running away together?"

He sounded like he'd been crying.

Marinette nodded, though fully aware that he couldn't see her through the other line.

Adrien didn't mind; he simply continued speaking.

"Maybe I wasn't kidding?"

The line was silent for a moment, before her calm and determined voice flowed through the phone.

"Let's go, then."

.

.

Adrien breaks the silence an hour into the road trip.

"I'm sorry I had you do this for me," he starts, evidently fumbling for the next words to say. "I didn't know who else to call."

"Don't be sorry. You know I'll always be here for you."

He stares at her, maybe for a moment too long, then smiles, almost forlorn.

"I know."

.

.

"My feelings for you haven't changed," Chat Noir began, as they watched the Paris skyline on the balcony. "Ladybug or Marinette… I still love you."

She swallowed down the sudden dryness in her mouth.

"Chat… Adrien… you know I—"

"I know," he smiled at her, then looked back up to the sky. "It's a beautiful view tonight."

.

.

They buy sandwiches at a nearby convenience store and decide to keep driving, as the moon peeks out from the sky.

"Beautiful," Adrien says, as he drives down the winding road.

They've decided to switch seats, allowing Marinette to take a much-needed rest in the passenger seat.

She looks up at him drowsily, rubbing at her eyes.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

He smiles softly, then gestures at the vast amount of greenery before them.

"The trees," he says. "I thought they were beautiful."

She looks at him longingly, then nods.

"They are."

.

.

Marinette still has nightmares about him.

Fighting him, while the rest of Paris— the rest of the world— sinks beneath their feet.

She remembers seeing her own body crumble at a single touch.

The look of insanity and love in his eyes… how the only thing she's ever wanted is transformed into her deepest fears in a single moment.

Little kitty on a roof, all alone without his lady.

She can't let it happen again.

Not to Paris, not to herself, not to him.

It's a risk.

And it's not one she's willing to take.

.

.

They decide to stop at a motel as midnight draws closer.

She insists he sleep on the bed, but he insists that it would be too unprofessional for them to share the bed with each other.

Adrien's not wrong.

It's a few minutes into them turning off the lights when someone speaks up, their voice echoing in the night.

"Are you still having nightmares?"

"The same ones."

"You know it's just a nightmare, right? It never happened."

"But it felt so real."

"Adrien, you would never do that to me."

"It wasn't on purpose… I just… I see flashes. White claws, your body turning to ash, a flood that ends the world… I was so scared… to lose you, to be the reason you're gone… do you promise it's just my imagination?"

There's a brief pause, and her voice almost sounds unsteady.

"Of course, kitty. I know you'll never hurt me."

"I love you."

"..."

"Good night."

.

.

They go home the next day.

(It's not really a road trip, if anything.)

She drops him off at his apartment.

"Call me if you have nightmares again," Marinette tells him. "I'll never let you be alone."

"I know," he smiles back. "You'll never leave this kitty all alone… not without his lady."

She freezes, then takes a deep breath.

"I'll see you, Chat."

The moment he disappears into the building, she slams the door to her car shut and covers her mouth; a feeble attempt in stopping the torrent of sobs and gasps that wrack her body.

I love you.

I love you so, so, much.

I'm sorry.

[milknette]

day 17 - masquerade

you’ll wind up like the wreck you hide, behind that mask you use.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

"IT'S a masquerade, but it's unique because this time the masks aren't over your eyes, but they're over your mouth."

Nadja Chamack is visibly thrown, but maintains her calm attitude as she adjusts the face mask on her lips. "Well, that certainly is something… new," she finally decides to respond. "What made you decide on such a theme for the Mayor's— your father's annual Presidential Ball?"

Chloé shrugs, rolling her eyes. "Well, obviously I wanted a normal event, but that's impossible because of this stupid virus," she says, annoyingly clicking her tongue. "So I suggested that we do this instead."

"Alright then," Nadja remarks, before taking out a remote that controlled the large screen behind them. "Now, we have here some questions from Parisians who want to know more about the impending ball."

"Whatever," she only scoffs, before turning her head to face the screen.

[USER 1]: I don't understand why you don't just hold a regular event. Quarantine is lifted already, we don't need to be cautious anymore.

"Ha!" She snorts, shaking her head. "Are you insane? Just because quarantine's over doesn't mean we can just pretend nothing happened."

[USER 2]: But there's a vaccine and cure already available, right? Just have everyone take it, it's not that hard.

"Not everyone can, though," Chloé snaps at the screen. "Daddy's working hard to make it available for the public, but there are still people out there who can't access it. Try thinking about someone other than yourself for a change?"

[USER 3]: You're not even properly informed. Masks aren't good for anyone, they just make the virus worse—

Nadja shuts the screen closed, evidently aware of how irritated her special guest is becoming.

"Chloé, now…"

One can almost see the cartoonish tick that appears on her forehead. "Is this really what most of you believe? No wonder daddy's tired all the time, it's because some of you are so foolish as to think…"

"Chloé, we have another guest who—"

"No more guests," she seethes, whipping her head to the screen:

Only to come face-to-face with her personal idol.

(And Chat Noir, but… eh.)

"We got your invite, Chloé, and we'd love to go. It's a good advocacy that you're working toward, and we appreciate it!"

Ladybug smiles at the camera, with Chat enthusiastically doing a thumbs up in the background.

"See you then! Bug out!"

.

.

"I've never seen you be so nice to Chloé," Chat Noir starts, as they carefully sit on the ledge. He wears a black face mask with a single green paw in the middle— a gift Ladybug had made him after learning how to make ones that actually protected against the virus.

(Chat's only too happy that she had given him a gift at all.)

Ladybug shrugs. "I meant what I said," she says easily. "At least she's taking this pandemic seriously. And I like what their event stands for."

"Why don't they just cancel it, though?"

"Apparently they can't," she sighs. "The ball is necessary for Mayor Bourgeois' to maintain good relations with other leaders. But they're pulling out all the stops— having everyone tested, ensuring they've taken vaccines, social distancing… Chloé really doesn't want anyone to think they're just making light of the virus."

"Didn't expect that from her, huh?"

"I still think she's entitled, but at least I know I can count on her when it's important."

As the sun starts to go down, Ladybug decides to stand up and lazily stretch her arms. "Anyway, I have to go kitty. I'll see you this weekend? The Wear-A-Maskerade, don't forget!"

"I'm looking furward to it!"

.

.

He decides to show up as Adrien Agreste first.

(Ladybug told him she'd show up later on in the evening, so he figures he has some time before Chat Noir was needed.)

Chloé almost clings to him when he enters, before immediately stopping herself a few feet away. Instead, she bows to him. "Thanks for coming, Adrien."

(She's become a lot nicer since she started hanging out with Kagami— he figures that her strict moral code of goodness has started rubbing off on his childhood friend.

The need for social distancing helped, too.)

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he only responds, looking in wonder at his surroundings.

Everyone's wearing a face mask, but it's all from designer brands and labels. (In fact, he spots quite a few Agreste masks being sported by the attendees.)

Adrien can clearly identify who's who, but ultimately decides that anonymity wasn't the purpose of the masquerade— not of this one, at the very least.

Subconsciously, he lightly tugs on his own face mask, a white one with gold-colored embellishments, the undeniable Agreste label placed at the very center.

(He only feels much too relieved that his father had consulted with medical professionals on ensuring the masks were at their most effective; and not simply used for their aesthetic or luxury designs.

— though, make no mistake, the prices for these masks still cost an insane amount. "It's only right," his father tells him.

"Capitalist," Adrien only thinks back.)

He spends the next few hours speaking and socializing with the guests; especially in order to cement relationships and friendships with those who'd help his father's company.

It's tiring work, but he finds comfort that everyone is as careful as he is; maintaining distance as they speak, avoiding direct contact, and never, not even for a moment, taking their masks off.

The cycle of exhaustion ends as soon as Ladybug enters the room— a bright red-and-black spotted mask covering her mouth.

Everyone immediately stops what they're doing, and almost begin to crowd her.

It's only Chloé's sharp and strict voice, "Anyone who violates the social distancing rule will be promptly kicked out of the event", that prevents them from moving any further.

Ladybug's relieved smile— though not directed at him, makes his spirit soar and his heart beat.

Adrien figures now is as good a time as any to transform into Chat Noir.

Excusing himself from a conversation, Adrien quickly runs off to the nearest empty bathroom and locks the door. He quickly changes face masks— he prefers Ladybug's, of course— and transforms.

In a few minute, Chat Noir comes bursting through the entrance, altogether too-loudly announcing that "his lady's purrince has arrived."

.

.

The ball is fun, for the most part.

Except that Chloé keeps looking for Adrien and Ladybug keeps looking for Chat Noir so he finds himself more often in the bathroom transforming than much of anything else.

"You're going to have to retire one of you soon, Adrien," Plagg sighs exhaustedly, after being detransformed the nth time that night. "I don't know how long I can keep doing this. Or how long you can keep it up."

"What do you mean?" Adrien asks, breathing heavily as he leans over one of the sinks. "I'm fine!"

"No," his kwami starts slowly. "You're—"

An old man suddenly enters the bathroom, and Adrien almost panics. "Ahahahaha!" He laughs maniacally, before looking in the mirror. "You are really one funny guy, Adrien."

He turns briefly to the newcomer, then smiles somewhat insanely. "Just talking to my old pal over here," Adrien says, patting the mirror. "Talking to myself… you know, like I always do."

The elderly man just stares blankly at him then nods slowly, before backing away. Adrien heaves a sigh of relief as he disappears— failing to notice the amused wink that the stranger throws toward his kwami.

As soon as he's gone, Plagg makes it a point to ensure the door is locked.

"See, you even forgot to lock it this time!" He complains. "If not for Master— my mastery of being a great kwami, then you would've been found out!

"That doesn't even make sense," Adrien argues. "And it's just an elderly man, I doubt he knows anything."

(Well, Plagg begs to differ.)

"But okay, this is the last time," he finally relents. "I'll stop Chat Noir, because Chloé expects me to stay until the end. I'm sure Ladybug will understand, okay?"

He picks up his mask from the sink, and puts it on.

Then— "Plagg, claws out!"

Adrien fails to notice his kwami's panicked expression as he gets sucked inside the ring.

.

.

Chat Noir finds Ladybug out in the hallway, other empty aside from the two of them. She's busily typing away at her miraculous, barely even noticing as he steps outside the bathroom.

"Milady, what are you doing alone on such a mewtiful night?"

She rolls her eyes, barely letting her eyes rip away from the screen. "I'm not really one for parties," Ladybug replies easily. "I'll probably leave soon, too. What about you—"

As soon as she looks up to stare at him, the words die on her mouth.

Instead she stares at him— almost too intently, her eyes burning holes into his face.

(Is this really happening? Is Ladybug… checking him out? Has she fallen for him the same way he's loved her for months—)

"I know that the glamour of the ball is tempting, but I'd never thought you'd stoop so low…"

Huh.

"... as to literally steal something, I mean, what is that supposed to be? You being a cat burglar or something? That's not even all that clever…"

"Hey, wait…"

"... We're supposed to be superheroes, Chat, I never thought you'd do something so…"

"Milady…"

"... and a mask, of all things?! I thought you were taking this pandemic seriously— and parading around in someone else's mask is extremely irresponsible of you to…"

"Ladybug."

"... what?"

"What are you talking about?"

He stares at her, evidently confused, before her expression flattens and looks almost angry.

"I'm not dumb, Chat; everyone knows that's Adrien Agreste's mask— it's originally designed by his father, and there's literally no other copy of it in this world. So you definitely stole it from him…"

"But I didn't steal anything!"

Ladybug speaks first. "Then how would you explain wearing it around your neck?!"

"Maybe think about other possibilities before assuming that I stole it?!" Chat Noir argues, shaking his head. "I thought you'd know me well enough to know that I'm not a thief, Ladybug— in fact, I would never need to steal anything! I have enough money to last me a—

Oh, wait.

Oops.

"... what do you mean?"

"Haha, I was just kidding, I'm actually dirt poor and stole this mask! You should probably also look around for Adrien, he's passed out somewhere… in an alleyway… uh, YEAH, so…"

"If you didn't take that mask, then there's only one possibility…"

"No, no, don't connect the dots— leave the dots unconnected! Yeah, social distance those dots! There's a virus going around, you know, so you shouldn't—"

"Adrien?!"

[milknette]

day 12 - childhood friends

it's better to burn, than to fade away.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

ADRIEN meets Marinette when he's six years old and running away for the first time.

It happens after his mom tells him that he can't have macarons for dinner. Can you believe it? To separate a child and his one true love— a single bite of passionfruity goodness… it is, understandably, too much for his little mind to handle.

So, he runs away—

Because clearly, the only logical solution to not having dessert for dinner is to run away somewhere that would allow him to do so.

(Maybe whoever made the macarons. He's sure that they probably have sweets for every meal!)

And it seems like a good idea at first.

But as he runs through the dimly-lit streets of Paris, with nothing but his superhero-themed backpack and the black cat stuffed toy he'd been given for Christmas, Adrien slowly begins to realize that maybe he'd acted too rashly.

He's cold, he's wet, and his macarons are nowhere to be found.

So of course, he does what any six-year-old would do in his situation:

He falls to the ground and starts crying.

It's in that state when she first finds him.

"Whatcha cryin' about?"

Adrien looks up and freezes. Snot is dripping out of his nose, eyes red, and cheeks puffy— and for the first time in his life, he feels self-consciousness.

Because standing in front of him is very likely the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

Quickly wiping his face with his sleeve (though all it really does is intensify the redness), Adrien shakes his head. "I'm not crying."

"Yeah you were," she says, pointing at his face. "Look, your face is wet."

"... it's because it's raining."

Pretty Girl huffs. "It's not raining," she accuses him. "You're lying!"

"I'm not lying!" He argues, slowly standing back up. "I'm not crying!"

"You just were," she shoots back. "Why are you sad, sad boy? Where are your parents?"

He frowns, shaking his head. "Nowhere. I don't care." Adrien shakes his head. "They're bad parents."

"What do you mean bad?" She asks. "Did they hurt you?"

"Yeah! They didn't let me have macarons for dinner."

"... and?"

"And…?" Adrien asks, confused. "That's it. They're so mean, not letting me eat what I want. So I ran away!"

A sudden smack on the head.

"Ouch?!"

"You're being spoiled," Pretty Girl finally says, frowning. "Your parents are just doing what's best for you. Stop getting mad at them for that."

"But I want macarons!"

"And you can't always get what you want!" She argues, shaking her head. "You should be happy with what you have. Papa always tells me how lucky I am to be where I am. Some kids don't even get to be that lucky ever."

"But…"

"No buts," she says, with finality. "Listen to your parents!" Then, after a moment, Pretty Girl fishes out something from her pocket.

It's one piece of a red polka-dotted earring.

"Here."

Adrien stares at her, suspicious. "What is this?"

"It's to make you happy again," she tells him. "It's an earring."

"... so it's a gift?"

Pretty Girl wrinkles her nose. "Yeah, I guess. Just stop crying already."

He smiles.

A gift.

From a pretty girl!

"Thank you," he beams, remembering his mother's lessons on how to be a good boy. "This means we're friends, right?"

"... sure," she finally mutters, after a brief pause. Then, she takes out her hand. "I'm Marinette."

"Adrien," he replies, almost enthusiastically holding her hand in his. "Nice to meet you!"

He wants to ask more, and talk to her longer, before the sound of an ambulance rings across the otherwise empty streets.

Then, an army of police cars quick to follow.

"What happened?" He wonders, before noticing Marinette try to sneak away. "Hey! Where are you going?" Adrien asks, chasing after her as she makes a run for it.

"My parents don't know I'm out!" She responds, shouting at him. "I'll be in trouble if they see I'm not in bed!"

"But will I see you again?"

Marinette laughs, and Adrien's almost confident he's never heard such a beautiful sound in his life.

"Friends don't just leave each other like that!" She only says, before disappearing into the night.

He finds himself alone, having stopped in front of a bus station.

It's a concerned conductor that helps bring Adrien home, to the arms of his evidently just-been-crying parents (he watches with childlike wonder as his father wipes away his teary expression, Marinette's words echoing in his ear) and a mound of freshly-heated macarons— but he barely takes notice.

Instead, Adrien looks in his hand.

The polka-dotted earring glitters with the light.

He presses it to his heart, then wishes with all his soul that he'll see her again.

Marinette.

How cute.

.

.

The next time Adrien meets Marinette is almost two years later.

He's running away again.

Chloé had invited him to a playdate in her bedroom, where she insisted they play house— with her being the wife, and him the "super handsome and all mine husband".

But Adrien didn't want to play that. He wanted to play superheroes, so he grabbed the superhero mask he made in school and put it on— ignoring her protests.

She cried and he called her a spoiled brat, before running away to avoid getting scolded. He runs to the emergency exit, sitting on the stairs as he leans his head upon his arms, almost on the verge of tears.

"You're a crybaby."

Adrien looks up, noticing with surprise as Marinette stands on the stair below him, arms crossed together as she peers over at his small frame.

"You!"

"Yeah, me," she replies. "Who else would it be?"

"You…"

"I…"

"Where have you been!?" Adrien finally rages, eyebrows knitted together in a mix of confusion and anger. "I've been waiting for you for forever!"

"I'm sorry…," Marinette begins, scratching her head. "Did I say I was gonna meet you? I'm kinda forgetful…"

"And dumb!" Adrien shouts, pointing accusingly at her. "You're a meanie face poop head for leaving me!"

"Hey," she starts quietly, before kicking his leg.

"Ouch! What was that for?!"

Marinette sticks her tongue out. "You can't just call people bad names like that!" She says, glaring disappointedly at him. "Go wash your mouth with soap."

"But I can't do that! It's gross!"

"Mama tells me that's the punishment for bad kids who say bad things," she warns him. "So don't say things like that again."

"..."

"Adrien."

"Fine!" He finally bites out, evidently irritated.

"And you have to say sorry."

"What?"

Marinette glares at him. "You have to say sorry to people you've said those things to. Because it hurts them."

"... it hurts?"

"Yeah," she explains, putting a hand to her heart. "Right here. And even more when it's someone we care about."

"Really?"

Marinette nods.

Adrien frowns, thinking to himself, before abruptly standing up. "I'm sorry, Marinette," he finally says. "I don't want to hurt you."

She beams at him. "And I'm okay now!" She says, raising her hands upward. "See, it's that easy!"

Adrien nods along, before remembering another person he has to say sorry to.

He stares at her. "I have to do something," he starts. "Can you wait for me?"

Marinette sighs, apologetic. "Sorry, I can't," she replies. "Mama and Papa are waiting for me downstairs. I just went here because you were crying so loud."

"Hey—!"

"But do what you have to do," she grins. "I'll see you again."

"Promise?" Adrien asks, sticking out his pinky finger.

She smiles, linking her pinky with his. "It's a pinky promise."

When Adrien returns to Chloé's apartment, the first thing he says is sorry.

They play house together, but roleplay as siblings. Adrien tells her that he can't play her husband; not when he wants someone else to play with his wife.

Marinette Agreste.

Doesn't sound too bad.

.

.

Marinette keeps her promise.

Their meetings are short and infrequent, but he always treasures every moment.

The time he accidentally ruins his father's painting, she makes him apologize. The time Chloé bullies Sabrina, she tells him to make her stop. The time he gets the last macaron at a shop, she convinces him to share it with the crying baby outside.

Adrien can feel himself becoming a better person the more they meet. With every wrong he's done, she's there like a guardian angel to show him the right way.

She makes him kinder, stronger, and more honest.

It's at the tender age of eleven years old when Adrien Agreste decides that he loves her.

.

.

The next year, Marinette only visits him once.

At the day of her funeral.

He sits alone, standing in front of her grave.

Emilie Agreste, Rest In Peace.

She doesn't say a word, only putting a hand on his shoulder.

He's grateful for it.

"At least you'll always be here for me," Adrien says.

She laughs softly, but doesn't reply.

.

.

She shows up less and less, the older he gets.

After his mother passed away, his father had locked him in the house with almost no contact with the outside world.

Adrien wonders if that's why Marinette hasn't been showing up.

He knows in his heart, however, that it isn't true.

.

.

"How did you get in here?"

"Is that a question you really want to know the answer to?"

"Maybe not."

Marinette leans her head on his shoulder, nuzzling closer to him.

He doesn't move.

.

.

It is at fifteen years old when Adrien's father gets him a therapist.

"Do you see her now?" He asks.

"No."

The therapist nods, writing as Adrien watches Marinette peek over his shoulder.

"He's writing that you're crazy."

"I'm not crazy!"

The doctor looks up at him, and it's almost pitiful.

"Of course not."

.

.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

The room is empty, but he knows she's watching. Waiting.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Adrien heaves, rubbing at his eyelids. He hasn't slept in days— weeks, even.

It's gotten to the point that even his father wants him to come outside, if even for a moment.

"I just want to be normal."

"No, you're too special for that."

.

.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I have to let you go."

"Why?"

"You aren't good for me."

"You told me I made you a good person."

"You did."

"What changed?"

"I'm not a kid anymore."

"..."

"I loved you."

"I'm not real."

"That doesn't mean my feelings weren't."

"The therapist was right. You are crazy."

"..."

"You're still a crybaby."

"I know. But I can handle these things on my own now."

"I hope you'll miss me."

"You were my first friend."

"I love you."

"..."

"Goodbye."

.

.

Adrien sees the sun for the first time in months.

He feels lighter.

Nothing is holding him back anymore.

[milknette]

day 03 - time travel

this time we had, i will hold forever.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

BUNNYX warns him that he shouldn't stay for too long.

It's a simple mission, after all— get in, ensure Master Fu meets Marinette that day on the street, and him outside the school, and that the two of them receive their Miraculous. All he really has to do is maybe put up a roadblock or a stop sign, but he can't find it in himself to leave so soon.

Instead, Adrien Agreste walks toward the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

"What are you doing?" Bunnyx's voice rings in his ear— a telepathic talent she'd developed over years of training in costume (and one that he personally finds quite irritating).

"Calm down," he replies instead. "This is all part of the plan."

"No, Chat, the plan is that you get Master Fu to the bakery. Not you." She sighs, and her voice shifts to a softer tone. "Look, Adrien, I know you want to see her but you can't do this. It's too dangerous."

Adrien's eyes shift downward, and he takes a deep breath in. "I won't do anything," he says. "I swear. Besides, I know for a fact that she won't be there yet." He laughs softly to himself. "It's too early; she'll still be asleep."

"But we can't take that risk. What if her parents recognize you?"

"It's been almost fifteen years, Alix. I doubt they'll recognize me now. And at this point in time, I haven't even met them yet." Adrien tips his shades downward, and shifts the tie along his black trenchcoat. "I'm disguised, too. Trust me, I just need to order something to get this plan moving, okay?"

He hears her sigh, audibly exhausted, but she caves. "Fine," Bunnyx finally says. "Just be quick, alright? And no small talk either." Her voice quiets down. "This is important. Please don't do anything to jeopardize this."

"Thank you," Adrien replies. There's still a lot of things left unsaid, things that hang heavily in the air, but they choose to ignore it.

Now isn't the time.

He enters the bakery.

.

.

It's the smell that hits him first—

That unique blend of scents from freshly-baked goods and sweets that waft pleasantly across the room. Sure, the bakery still stands years into the future (something he's always been thankful), but there's something new and at the same time nostalgic about entering the place it was years before.

And he sees them: a small, tout, woman lightheartedly berating her husband, an almost-gigantic man who would've been intimidating if not for his kind smile and altogether too-sweet demeanour.

Adrien's mind flashes back to a few years later, with him bowing down to them, nervously asking for their blessing to have their daughter's hand in marriage.

Being held in the token Dupain-Cheng family hug.

His mind's distracted as a familiar voice rings through the store: "Well hello there, what can I get for you today?"

"Ah," he coughs. "I'll take anything you recommend. I'm not really in the mood for anything specific."

The small lady nods as she looks along the shelf of goods, before retrieving a single tray of macarons from the fridge. They're bright pink, and he recognizes them as soon as they enter his sight.

They're hers. She made them.

"Now these aren't actually our creations, but our daughter, who's extremely talented at great at baking, is—,"

"No need," he replies, quickly retrieving his wallet. "I'll take it."

(It takes a few minutes for him to retrieve bills that were still used in the period he was in, but he does have enough.)

"Great! Then I'll get that right out for you." She smiles brightly. "Will you be eating it on the way out?"

"Yes, thanks Miss Dupain-Cheng."

As soon as the statement escapes his mouth, they both pause in surprise— Adrien, even more so. "I mean, that is you, right? Since this is the Dupain-Cheng bakery…"

To his relief, the adult woman simply smiles at him. "You're right. I'm Sabine," she replies. "And this is a family-owned business. You've heard of us, then?"

Adrien scratches his head. "I've heard that your family makes the best sweets in all of Paris."

Sabine laughs. "Well, I don't know about that." She says easily, before winking. "But I'm glad someone seems to enjoy our food to that level."

He nods along absentmindedly. "So even your daughter bakes, then? That must be great."

"It is!" Sabine replies, softly humming along as she carefully reheats the macaron. "She helps out sometimes— that is, if she wakes up on time." The parent laughs to herself, suddenly looks at him, then wonders aloud. "Do you have kids?"

Adrien smiles back at her, though it's a little less genuine. "I wish I could've been so lucky, but no, unfortunately."

"Oh," Sabine replies, sympathetic. "Sorry if I was intruding."

"No, no," Adrien's quick to reply. "It's okay! I did want kids— me and my wife, but we were never blessed with them."

"Well," Sabine hums. "It's not too late to keep trying! Marinette… my daughter, she was a little surprise to our family. Our little miracle."

Hearing her name escape her mother's lips is a little too much to handle.

A flash of her father, oftentimes towering, hunched downward, head buried in his hands, never looking smaller than he'd ever been then. Her mother's aghast face, kneeling beside him, holding onto his frame like it was the end of the world.

(And maybe it was. He felt like it was. They all did.)

Adrien swallows down the sudden rush of emotion, and instead plasters on a happy expression. "I'd love to try again. It's everything we ever wanted."

"Then I wish both of you luck." Sabine smiles, kind, full of good intent, as she passes him two macarons— one ready-to-eat, and the other neatly tied into a box. "For your wife," she winks. "I hope you'll come again."

Adrien smiles, again, and whispers, "thanks," before immediately walking away.

Bunnyx was right, after all. It was too much.

.

.

After his visit at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, Adrien immediately makes his way to Master Fu.

The experience is a whole other mess of emotions— he wonders if it's because he's been thrown so far into the past, but the memory of their guardian sacrificing himself to save them becomes a fresh wound, and he actively has to shake off the feeling.

He doesn't introduce himself, of course; it's too risky, but he finds a way to catch the older man's attention.

With Marinette's macarons.

(Even now, she still finds a way to help him. It's a strange feeling, like she's right there, working with him to complete the mission together.)

As Master Fu steps outside his shop, Adrien strategically walks past, bumping into him as they both tumble into the ground; dropping the macaron box as near as he can to the guardian.

"I'm so sorry!"

"Please don't worry, it's okay." Master Fu's quick to respond— quite agile for his age, and easily picks himself back up. He bends down and picks up the box, offering it to the younger male. "Here, I believe this is yours?"

"Oh, thank you so much," Adrien replies, taking it into his hand. "The Dupain-Cheng's have the best sweets in town; it'd be a waste if they were ruined."

"The Dupain-Chengs…." Master Fu hums, leaning over his cane as if in thought. "That's the bakery in Rue Gotlib, is it?"

"Yes, I love what they make there," Adrien continues, as if hooking in bait. "It tastes delicious—," then, as if in thought, he suddenly returns the box. "Please, try some."

"No, that's alright…"

"I insist," Adrien presses on. "Take it as my apology for bumping into you."

"Well, I'm not one to say no to a free meal," Master Fu laughs, then pops the macaron into his mouth in one gulp. His face lights up almost immediately. "That is lovely! And they're currently open?"

Adrien smiles. This was child's play. "Yes, just got these fresh off the oven earlier today." Then, he drops the hint. "These macarons are actually made by the family's daughter— she seems really sweet, and talented too."

"A daughter, hm?" Master Fu looks deep in thought, then nods to himself. "Then, maybe I should order a box for myself. Thank you, sir…"

"Just a friendly stranger passing by," Adrien finishes on for him. Master Fu nods in understanding. (If anything, he was the expert on secret identities, after all.)

"Maybe you'll allow me to treat you some time? I'm sure that macaron was meant for someone else."

"Maybe in the future," Adrien responds, still smiling at him. "And it's completely okay— I don't think she could've eaten them, anyway."

At that, he excuses himself, making up some half-baked excuse about having somewhere else to be.

Adrien doesn't really remember.

His heart feels heavy and it's becoming so much more than he can handle.

He doesn't belong here.

Not anymore.

.

.

The next, and final, task involves much less talking— simply needing to follow Master Fu around and ensure that the Miraculous end up in their hands.

Adrien's relieved to find that he doesn't have to do much to get his own Miraculous, seeing the guardian quickly end up at their school after finding out about Marinette.

He watches with slight awe as the younger him helps Master Fu without a moment's notice, with his expression souring as he's escorted back into the limousine.

Things were never easy back then. (They never got easier even after he was 'free'— but Marinette always had a way of making things seem much better than they were. She always knew what to say.)

As soon as the Younger Adrien leaves, Bunnyx's voice rings in his ear. "Good job, Chat. Now it's time to go."

"Wait."

"What do you mean wait, it's done. The Miraculous are in the right hands. You need to go."

"Wait."

His voice is soft, almost too quiet to be heard, but it's so set and determined that even Bunnyx pauses in her tracks.

Then: "I just want to see one thing."

"Adrien, you know I can't…"

"Please." He whispers it, but she can hear the crack in his voice. Hear the crack in his heart. "I just want to see her."

Bunnyx sighs.

"How long do you need?"

"Just give me the end of the day."

.

.

Adrien spends the rest of the afternoon walking around Paris.

It's strange, being somewhere so familiar yet unfamiliar, somewhere so new yet so nostalgic, all at the same time. He decides to stay away from the school and all the places he knows she'll be, simply because he's not ready.

Not yet.

Just a few more hours.

.

.

It's raining.

Adrien watches from outside, as the dark clouds serve well to cover his grown frame. Students are walking outside as the bell signals the end of classes for the day, and he waits.

He waits until they slowly fill out until only two people are left in the entire school building.

He's not sure if he's ready for this.

She walks out of the building.

He knows he's not ready for this.

Adrien almost slips over the concrete. It feels like the wind's knocked out of his lungs; seeing her all over again, he can't help but gasp for air. She was right there. Standing plainly like there wasn't anything wrong in the world.

Like she hadn't destroyed his own.

He has to stop himself from running to her. From confirming for himself that she isn't fake; not another figment of his imagination coming to haunt him after months of nightmares and night terrors.

Instead, he breathes in.

And he waits, as a Younger Him walks next to her.

Adrien's not close enough to hear their exchange, but it doesn't matter because he already knows those words by heart. Their first conversation forever carved into his memory as the first time he ever spoke with his soulmate.

He watches as his younger self extends his hand to give her umbrella, and how she reaches out to take it.

"You know, I felt something when our hands touched," Adrien begins, fully aware that Bunnyx was watching the whole spectacle from her burrow. "I just… I didn't know what it was yet. It was a new feeling… but I know my body knew before my mind did: that I had met my soulmate."

He laughs as the umbrella closes over Marinette's head.

"Apparently that was when she fell in love with me." Adrien continues, smiling forlornly. "Can you believe that? No normal person would fall in love with someone that quickly. We spoke less than a hundred words to each other. And we just met."

He pauses, watching as the Younger Him drives away, and as Tikki flies out from Marinette's bag to speak with her.

"But I think subconsciously, she knew too. That we were meant-to-be. That I loved her, and that she loved me. We just didn't know it at the time… not yet."

The tear rolls down Adrien's face before he can stop it.

Then they don't stop at all.

A torrent of tears, unstoppable. He can't breathe. He can't speak. He can't stand. He exhales deeply, and desperately tries to rub away the sadness. The grief. The loss.

Adrien only realizes he's no longer in the past when Bunnyx's arms wrap around his body.

He feels lost.

And Marinette's no longer there to guide him.

.

.

Adrien kneels down onto the soil, and sets down a bouquet of flowers.

He lights a candle— scented, sweet, and lays it on the grass.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng

"I miss you."

Beloved friend, daughter, and wife.

"I love you."

Our Everyday Ladybug.

"I'll never forget you."

May she rest in peace.

"Goodbye."

[milknette]

day 06 - enemies

i am superman, and i know what’s happenin’

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

“AND he keeps making these infuriating jokes that aren't even that funny!"

Marinette huffs as she takes a box of camembert to put in the freezer. She spares her partner a passing glance of confusion, before raising it up. "I thought we agreed that we should start buying less of these?"

Adrien grins, somewhat nervously, as he takes the box from her hands. "What can I say? I just love my cheese!"

"But why this kind? It's expensive," Marinette rebuts, shaking her head. "And it smells gross. I just don't get why you like them that much." She leans toward him and pinches her nose, scrunching it in evident distaste. "See, you're starting to smell already!"

"It's not that bad," Adrien tries to reason with her, surprisingly undaunted by the scent beginning to fill the room. Marinette briefly wonders how he manages to keep a straight face the whole time, but decides that it's just one of those strange quirks of his that she hadn't known about until they moved in together.

(Other traits which fell under that list included his tendency to nap a lot, his frequency to disappear at random moments in time, and most of all, his extremely weird habit of acting like a cat, especially when he wasn't aware of it— something Marinette would honestly find adorable if it didn't remind her so much of a certain someone that got on her nerves almost a hundred percent of the time.)

Marinette sighs to herself, finally nodding in defeat. "Fine," she finally mutters. "But you're showering before you come to bed, okay?"

Adrien nods enthusiastically, putting the camembert down to suddenly grab her by the waist and press a kiss to her cheek. "Thanks, Mari."

Fortunately, after years of being together, Marinette's learned how not to explode into scarlet whenever he shows even the barest minimum of affection.

Doesn't stop the light blush that dusts her cheeks afterward, though.

"So you were talking about this workmate of yours?" Adrien finally asks, as Marinette feels the anger rush back in her veins. She bites her cheek, then exhaustedly runs a hand through her hair.

"It's just… I don't get him at all!" Marinette whines. "It feels like the purpose of his whole existence is to make mine as inconvenient as possible. And it's not just me that he's bothering, it's everyone! How cruel do you have to be to actively play a part in trying to make everyone's lives miserable?"

Adrien hugs her closer to him, putting his chin atop her head. "Sounds like a pain."

"You have no idea," she mumbles. "Chat — I mean, whenever we chat, it's like everything he says is just to spite me! He keeps making jokes whenever we meet and they're not even that clever!"

"I don't understand why you don't just quit then," Adrien finally says, after a long pause. "We're earning enough money, so I don't know why you took on this extra job in the first place."

"It's not like I don't want to quit!" Marinette tries to protest, before immediately shutting up as the words leave her mouth. "I just… can't," she finally confesses. "And it's not like you can talk. You have your mysterious extra work too."

Adrien laughs. "I have to pay for that camembert somehow, right?"

"That sounds like a problem that could be easily fixed if you just stopped buying it," Marinette points out, as she starts to giggle herself. "How's work, anyway? That co-worker of yours still bothering you?"

At that point, it's Adrien's turn to heave a sigh of exhaustion. "Bothering is too small to describe what she's doing to me," he says, and though she can't see it, Marinette can practically imagine the annoyed expression on his face. "She keeps ruining all my plans! Things I've spent so much time trying to perfect, she ends up destroying just like that!"

"That's awful," Marinette frowns, hugging him closer. "I can't believe anyone would actually do that? How is anyone okay with what she's doing to you!?"

"Actually, a lot of people are on her side," Adrien replies, a tone of evident distaste dripping from his tongue. "But they just don't know better, and I can't blame them for that. It's just… I've tried explaining to her what I've been doing, and she still insists that I'm in the wrong!"

With that, Adrien lets her go, walking over to the counter as he combs back his hair in stress. Marinette quickly moves next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder and linking their hands together. "Well, I'm sure they'll find out the truth someday," she finally says. "And for now, I'm glad you're doing what's right." She looks up at him, then presses a shy kiss to his cheek. "My personal superhero."

"Who needs Ladybug, right?" Adrien teases.

"Believe me when I say she's not all that," Marinette laughs, as if it were an inside joke. (And it was; Adrien just didn't know the punchline). "So what do you say that we stop thinking about people who aren't worth our time, and spend time with people that do? Let's have lunch together, tomorrow?"

Adrien looks down at their linked hands, then beams at her proposition. "I love you, Marinette."

She's practically glowing. "I love you too!"

.

.

"I never thought I could hate anyone until I met you."

"Aw, milady, I'm flattered that you've thought of me!"

Ladybug seethes as Chat Noir easily dodges her attacks, at some point even yawning just to spite her. She attempts to lunge at him, only for the latter to press his baton and jump to another building. "I'm not that attracted to girls throwing themselves at me, sorry!"

"Please, like I'd ever throw myself at you." She scoffs, quickly making chase as he runs away from her grasp. "And I doubt you've had any girl actually have a crush on you."

"I was actually pretty popular in my day!" Chat Noir shouts back, leaping over the rooftops of random civilians. "Even have a steady girlfriend now, if you could believe it!"

"How unlucky."

"For you?"

Ladybug rolls her eyes. "For the girl."

"What about you, then?" Chat Noir begins to ask, looking back at the irritated superheroine. "Are you going to go ahead and ruin this unmistakable chemistry between us?"

"What chemistry? If anything, our relationship's best described as toxic." She points dryly, before hooking her yoyo to one of the taller buildings, pulling herself over and suddenly appearing before him. Ladybug quickly sticks her leg outward, and before Chat Noir can make sense of what's happening, trips him over as he's sent tumbling over to one of the rooftops.

As she stands over him, victorious, Ladybug speaks: "And I have a boyfriend."

Chat Noir only smirks.

"My condolences to the guy."

Then he shouts cataclysm!, as the floor below them breaks into pieces, as Ladybug's sent tumbling down while Chat Noir uses the baton to keep himself in the air, as he gracefully lands onto the next building. She tries to jump over, realizing only a little too late that her leg's caught in the wires.

He offers her a catlike grin. "You know, we'd be unstoppable if you just joined me! We'd be a purrfect team."

"I'll never join the side of evil!"

"And as I've told you before, I'm not evil," Chat Noir shouts back at her, shaking his head. "Do you ever listen to me?"

"There's no way that you can persuade me of that." Ladybug only responds, then gestures to the destroyed architecture around her. "You just destroyed a whole building! People could've gotten hurt!"

"Don't you mean purrsuasion?" Chat Noir teases. "Besides, this building was empty. It's a hub for illegal activity at night, so nobody's here in the morning. And now, criminals have nowhere to do their shady dealings. I honestly think I did you a favor!"

"You must be extremely simple if you think that would stop criminals from acting," Ladybug says, rubbing at her forehead. "Besides, aren't they your comrades or something?"

"Me!? Please, I work alone," Chat Noir points out. "And I'd never stoop down to their level."

"Destroying property and scaring the people of Paris not that bad for you, then?"

"Believe me, I could be doing much worse."

"But you're not!"

Chat Noir sighs. "Just know that I'm doing my best in my own way," he shrugs. "And you don't have to believe me." The sudden beep of his phone distracts the conversation. "But for now, I have to go."

"Wait, Chat Noir—"

"Until next time, milady!" He winks. "It was pawsitevely a pleasure to see you again."

"Don't you dare leave, we're not finished—"

"Bye!"

When Ladybug finally manages to free herself, Chat Noir's already gone. She debates upon chasing after him, but the beep on her own phone reminds her of a certain appointment.

One she was certainly already late for.

Ladybug spends the next few minutes zooming across Paris to get to her apartment on time.

.

.

When Marinette arrives, Adrien's already in the kitchen.

He smiles at her.

How she needed to see that smile today.

"Rough time at work, then?"

Marinette exhales deeply.

"As usual."

"But at least you have me."

"At least I have you!"

[milknette]

day 20 - fairytale

no-one to tell us no or where to go, or say we're only dreaming.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

PRINCE Adrien does not want to marry.

Or, well, he does— but not to some princess he doesn't know; not for the sake of politics and prevention of war; and especially not for a woman who would only marry him for his stature and family.

As corny as it is, Adrien wants to marry for love.

But it's not that easy to find someone to love when you're not even allowed to step outside the palace gates.

As if on cue, his father enters his bedroom.

"I assume you've accepted my proposition, Adrien?"

His low voice echoes through the otherwise empty chamber, the tone devoid of almost any love and care a father should have for his own child.

The younger boy only looks down, barely getting up from his bed.

Suddenly, the silks and expensive pillows that he lay on felt so stiff.

Cold, even.

"Adrien," his father repeats. "I asked you a question."

He sighs, deciding to try and confront him. Maybe this time, he'd actually listen.

"Please, father, reconsider. I don't understand why I must marry so soon. And to someone I've never met…"

"We have already discussed this. You must wed Princess Chloé; your marriage will unite our kingdoms and bring prosperity to our family. I'd have thought you'd be over being so stubborn about this."

"I'm not being stubborn! Marrying someone I've never met; and all the more to someone I don't love… didn't you love mother when you married her?"

The look in his father's eyes makes Adrien want to take a step back.

"Do not bring your mother into this."

But why not? Ever since she's disappeared, you've stopped talking about her, and shut yourself completely… you've become so cold, even to your own son.

Instead, Adrien quiets down.

"I'm sorry."

"Then it's settled. I shall send the Bourgeois Kingdom a letter accepting their proposal for marriage." The king stares at him, as if daring him to speak up. "Do you understand, Adrien?"

"Yes, father."

.

.

As soon as his father leaves, Adrien dons on a black cloak— his mother's, from way back when, and carefully starts packing a bag of necessities.

A black panther with stunning green eyes nuzzles close to him.

Don't leave, Adrien.

He sighs, before hugging the creature close to his chest.

"I'm sorry, Plagg. But I can't continue to live like this. I love my kingdom, and father, even, but I want to be free. There are things I want to experience in this world, and being trapped by my father will never let me do that."

Plagg growls, evidently conflicted, but carefully steps away.

"I'll come back one day, okay?" Adrien smiles softly. "I promise."

.

.

Adrien is stealing. Apparently.

He doesn't really understand how currency or paymentworks, having spent his whole life being pampered by life in the palace.

(Well, he's learned about it from his private tutors; but those largely had to do with managing the treasury and ensuring the gold stays within the family. He's never actually had any issues with wealth.)

So when a shopkeeper threatens to chop off his hand as retribution for giving a child an apple, of all things— Adrien realizes two things:

That economic conditions were actually so poor in his kingdom— a stark contrast from the apparent lie the palace advisers had told him, and;

That he was truly too sheltered by his father, not knowing anything at all.

It's when a strange woman suddenly grabs his hand and pulls him away that Adrien's knocked out of his reverie.

She's telling him something around the lines of, come with me if you want to keep that hand of yours, but he barely notices.

Instead he notices the deep bluebell of her eyes, the rosy pink dusted on her cheeks, and her vibrant red cape flowing as they duck into alleyways and abandoned street corners.

Adrien hasn't met many women outside of those in the palace, but he assumes that it's common knowledge that whoever this is— she is absolutely beautiful.

She takes him to the highest floor of a run-down old building, barely standing from apparent years of abuse and neglect.

The girl notices him staring in wonder.

"Sorry it's not great," she starts, carefully patting the block next to her. "Things haven't been great for some time now."

"I don't understand," he starts, trying to find the words. "Last time I was here, the kingdom was flourishing. And now, people starving, buildings on the verge of collapse, and violent men…"

She laughs. "Now how long has it been since you were last here? And you can't really blame the shopkeeper, you did just take his apple without paying for it. What kind of land did you come from to think that was normal?"

Adrien has the decency to look almost sheepish.

"Let's just say I've been gone awhile," he says instead. "But to think it's changed this much… I have truly missed a lot."

"Well, it wasn't always that bad," she sighs, pulling her legs up to sit down. "You know the king, right? Ever since Queen Emilie died, he just… stopped caring about us. All wealth they kept to their inner circle, leaving us to fend for ourselves." Her eyes narrow. "The people over there don't care about us, and would leave us to die."

That's a cruel wake-up call.

"That's not true!" Adrien suddenly blurts, earning a confused glance from her. "What about the prince?"

She scoffs. "The prince? Nobody's seen him here in years. He's probably just some entitled brat, living in leisure in the palace while we all suffer here. He's no different."

He wants to protest.

But how could he?

If Adrien were in her position, he'd feel no differently from her.

"Is that why you steal?"

"It's hard to make an honest living here," she smiles bitterly. "I've tried selling bread… but it never worked. People will step over everyone else to survive." She looks downward. "I know some orphan kids… scattered around. I've seen them pass out from exhaustion, ignored by everyone here. I know it's wrong to steal, but I— they're children. They shouldn't have to suffer like this!"

The pit in Adrien's stomach grows ever-larger.

How could he have lived so easily, without knowing any of this?

He feels disgust— with his father, with the greedy men from the palace, and even with himself. How could someone who would one day rule over the kingdom not know anything about the realities of the people who lived in it?

"Anyway," she finally sighs. "That's old news. So what's your story, stranger?"

Adrien shrugs. "I ran away. I was just feeling so… trapped, at home. I needed to be free." He pauses, taking in his surroundings— and the mysterious girl sitting next to him. "But I guess freedom wasn't anything like I expected."

"Well, I'm sorry about that. It's hard to come across anything good these days." She says, a far-off look in her eyes. "But one day, I'll get out of here. Travel the world, maybe. Somewhere I can actually live my life, without fearing for it everyday."

"...

Would you mind some company?"

She looks up at him, her face completely caught off-guard by the sudden question. He looks nervous, and scratches his head. "I mean, I've got nowhere to go either. And maybe I can help out! I don't know how to bake bread, but I could learn, and—"

"I'd love that."

Adrien looks at her, visibly surprised. "Really?"

She smiles. "It would be nice to not be alone for a change. So, you got a name?"

He smiles back. "... you first."

"Around here, they call me—"

"LADYBUG."

They both whip their heads up at the sudden intrusion, as a group of soldiers come bursting through the room. The floors shake as they flood the area. "I finally found you."

Adrien belatedly recognizes the voice as Madame Sancoeur's— his father's Royal Vizier and consequently, Captain of the Guard.

The stranger— Ladybug— stands, grasping his hand tightly.

She doesn't back down.

"I didn't think you'd show up yourself. A special occasion?"

Sancoeur flinches.

Ladybug raises a curious eyebrow. "Oh, so it is. What happened? The King throw another tantrum? Does he want more money? Because like I said, I'm completely broke. Like everyone else in this damned kingdom is."

"Do nottalk about King Gabriel like that. He is a good king, and you would be smart to watch your mouth when biting the hand that feeds you."

"Feed me? I have to fightjust to have a morsel of food on my plate. I don't live as the rest of you do, bathing in wealth while we barely survive. Now go back to your king and your prince and leave me alone."

Both Adrien and Sancoeur freeze at the mention of the prince.

"Oh. So something happened to your prince, then?"

Adrien's never seen his father's vizier look so angry. "What did you do to him?"

Ladybug rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. Like I'd want anything to do with someone as entitled as him." Suddenly, she squeezes his hand. "Besides, I already have one partner to keep me company."

"Ah, another pest to take care of." Sancoeur only sighs, before snapping her fingers. "Well, that shouldn't be an issue. I've brought a whole army this time. You won't get away."

At that, Ladybug is suddenly grabbed by a burly soldier, holding her so she can't escape. Two others hold Adrien back, separating them.

"I don't need the boy," she only says, turning back toward the exit. "King Agreste only wants Ladybug. But throw him into prison. Anyone who works with her is surely a menace to society."

"She's not a menace!"

Sancoeur looks back, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, so the alleycat can talk. Do you even know what she's done? That this woman has been stealing not only her fellow townspeople, but from the soldiers as well? The very people who are protecting you?"

"She's only stealing things to provide for those who can't. There are children, and they're starving. Dying— and she's only trying to save them." He struggles against the arms holding him captive. "If you would only listen, Nathalie!"

The vizier pauses. Then: "Let him go."

Almost reluctantly, they do.

Then, Sancoeur walks forward, with terrifying speed and precision, before whipping the hood off his head. "Prince Adrien," she finally says, eyes widening with shock. "So it's true? Ladybug really did take you?"

"No!"

He shakes his head. "Ladybug has done nothing. So let her go, now. As the Prince, I order you…"

She only ignores him, then snaps her fingers.

Two pairs of arms come to grab his own, again.

"Nathalie, what are you doing?"

She turns back, then sighs. "I'm sorry, Adrien. You gave me no choice." Sancoeur gives the two soldiers a brief glance, her eyes almost flashing with concern— but disappearing so quickly it's almost like he had imagined it. "Return the Prince to his chambers. I will deal with him later." Then, she turns to Ladybug; who had been eerily quiet since the exchange.

"Ladybug comes with me."

"Wait!" He starts, struggling to find the words. "Ladybug… I—"

The look she gives him is almost unreadable. Ladybug doesn't fight back; doesn't even struggle. She doesn't even turn back to him, not even for a glance, and walks away.

.

.

"Let's make an agreement. I'll give you all the riches you desire, enough to start a new life outside of this kingdom, if you do me one small favor."

"What do you want?"

"A simple thing. There's a cave, not so far from here. I've gotten old, and can't get it for myself but… I need a lamp."

"A lamp…?"

"Isn't it so simple? Retrieve this single item for me, and I will let you go. Is it agreed? Do we have a deal?"

Ladybug looks up at King Agreste, quiet.

Then:

"Where do I go?"

[milknette]

day 16 - magic

feel the early morning madness, feel the magic in the making.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

"OF all things, why choose that as your familiar?"

Adrien sighs, for what is likely the hundredth time for that day, watching as the familiar crawls up his arm. He can almost see Chloé's disgusted expression, but pointedly decides to ignore it. "I told you Chlo, it's a she. And I'm not sure why I chose her— I just felt the connection Ma'am Bustier spoke about, and it just happened. I don't get why you can't just accept that."

She raises an eyebrow at his irritated tone, before shaking her head. "It's just that this isn't what anyone expected you to choose, Adrikins," she points out. "I thought you'd have chosen something more majestic, like a lion. Didn't you always like cats?" Chloé shivers, then gestures at his arm. "Choosing some common ladybug… that's not like you."

He just shrugs, exhausted from even trying to protest. She notices his tired expression, then sighs, putting a hand to her hips. "Look, even if you don't believe it, I'm just worried about you," she tells him. "You know that Ma'am Bustier's test is worth a huge chunk of our grade. If you fail to connect properly with your… familiar, then you'll fail." Chloé frowns, and for once, it's a look of actual and genuine concern. "Your dad's never going to let you come back if you do."

At that, he smiles, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. (One she almost immediately shakes away, not wanting any way to bridge her to his familiar. She's always hated insects.)

"Thanks for the concern, Chlo," he starts, before nuzzling close to the insect. "But I don't need it. Ladybug and I are going to crush it."

"You named your ladybug… Ladybug?"

"Says the girl who literally named her familiar, dragon child."

"Hey! Ryuuko's a name fit for a queen! And at least my familiar is befitting of my status. A dragon is all-powerful, royal, and regal. What about a ladybug? What's she good for?"

Adrien shrugs, easily answering the question:

"She's my lucky charm."

.

.

"Alright bugaboo, ready for this?"

As the moon shines through the courtyard, Adrien kneels down and touches the ground with his fingers. Ladybug rests upon his shoulder as he closes his eyes, muttering a few choice unintelligible words to himself.

Then:

"Cataclysm."

The ground shakes and the grass starts to rot, spreading rapidly and intensely… until it stops only a few feet away.

Opening his eyes and walking over to the edge of his spell, Adrien sighs at the result.

"Not strong enough," he mutters to himself, evidently disappointed.

The ladybug crawls over to his cheek, almost as if to give him an encouraging kiss on the cheek.

He smiles.

"You're right," he replies, getting back on his knees. "Let's do this again."

.

.

Adrien spends the next few months practicing.

He spends every waking moment with Ladybug, working with her to improve his cataclysm, then spending the rest of the day spending time and taking care of her (Ma'am Bustier had told them improving relations with a familiar was important; the more trust and loyalty to each other, the better their magic would work together)— but to no avail.

His spell's strength and attack range was still small, with the date of their exam rapidly approaching.

Chloé mouths on about how she was right, how choosing a ladybug was a terrible idea, and how he was going to fail if he continued to stubbornly choose to stay with his familiar.

Usually, the words roll right off his back and he ignores it.

But this time, he finds that maybe she isn't completely off-base at all.

Maybe this wasn't a perfect match, after all.

.

.

Ma'am Bustier tells him to 'talk' to her.

He finds it silly— absurdly so, to speak to a ladybug as if it were a human; but decides to do it as a last-ditch effort.

He leans his head on his arms, watching as the ladybug moves back and forth on his desk.

"Hey bugaboo."

Silence.

"I don't know if you can understand me, but well, we're going to try anyway. Okay?"

Ladybug stops in place, and he assumes it's as good a sign as any to go on.

"I really need help," Adrien starts. "I can't fail this test. It's… let's just say, I'll never become a warlock if I don't ace this."

Ladybug is quiet. (He doesn't expect her to speak, of course, but a flap of her wings or some bzzz would help a lot.)

"Please," he tries to say. "I know you felt it too, right? We're meant to work together. I'll do anything for you to help me out."

She only stays in place, before flying upward and landing on his nose.

He can't see her without crossing his eyes together, and laughs.

The ladybug flaps its wings, then crawls on his shoulder.

Adrien smiles. "I'll take that as a yes, then."

.

.

The day of the exam, Adrien is nervous.

He's put all his trust and faith into his familiar, but he's not that confident she's done the same. (If she even could— honestly, Adrien was starting to think all of this familiar stuff was more insane than the fact he could destroy things with his fingertips.)

"Next… Mister Agreste, and his familiar a—," the announcer coughs, then almost confused, says the next words. "A… ladybug. Okay, then. Please show us what you've practiced."

He kneels downward, and touches the ground.

Ladybug crawls down, lying upon his fingertips. (Almost as if she were holding his hand to guide him.)

He closes his eyes, whispers the words, and feels the magic course through his veins, moving to his hand.

It's a calm, swirling, black, as usual.

Nothing new.

But then:

An explosion of deep, scarlet, red.

The sudden attack lightning shoots through his body, and he feels almost every part of himself buzz with untapped energy.

It's like nothing he's ever felt before.

He almost falls back, before noticing a girl in red stand in front of him.

Why does she look so familiar?

The girl grabs his hand and pulls him up, then orders him. "Keep chanting."

Adrien does. It's overwhelming, he's almost thrown over, but somehow, he shouts the words.

"Cataclysm."

.

.

The exam arena is covered with smoke.

Adrien vaguely hears someone say a spell to clear the air, but he's fallen over and almost loses consciousness.

The last thing he sees is Ladybug, crawling over to his cheek.

.

.

When Adrien wakes up, the first thing he notices is the lack of weight— however light it is, on his shoulder.

He immediately panics.

"Where's Ladybug?"

The doctors tell him to calm down, to rest, but he can't. Not now, not yet, not when he had unanswerable questions about his familiar and the girl and how it all tied together.

Someone takes out their wand, and casts a spell for sleep.

He passes out.

.

.

Ma'am Bustier is there to greet him the next time he wakes up.

"Are you feeling better, Adrien?"

He only nods, then clutches his head. "What happened?"

She stays quiet for a moment, staring him in the eye, before calmly beginning to explain to him. "Your cataclysm destroyed the whole arena."

"What…?" Adrien looks up at her, disbelieving, before shaking his head. "No, I… I never meant for it to become that strong. I just lost control, see, there was this girl and Ladybug, she… Ladybug. My familiar, where is she?"

"You don't have a familiar, Adrien—"

"What do you mean, Ladybug was right there and I have to know if she's okay… if I hurt her during that blast or…"

Ma'am Bustier grabs him suddenly, effectively calming him down. Her smile is kind, and he finds his feelings of panic slowly ebb away.

"Ladybug was never your familiar."

"I just said no, she's…"

"Ladybug is human."

"What?"

.

.

Ma'am Bustier explains to him that no warlock could have done such intense damage alone; even with a familiar, such heights of destruction was unheard of.

The only way that was possible were if two extremely powerful magicians had created the spell together.

She tells him that Ladybug had never been his familiar.

He doesn't know what to believe.

A sudden knock on his room, and in enters a young girl, about his age, nervously looking down at the floor.

She's barefoot and links her fingers together, her clothes a dark red, in sharp contrast with the blue of her eyes.

From her hunched figure, Adrien can almost see who he'd spent the past few months with.

"I don't know if you can tell it's me, but…"

Adrien smiles softly, and takes her hands.

"Ladybug."

"Adrien."