#i also want to do hawk moths and silk moths… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mesa-mineshaft · 2 years

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upgrade swamps. add better trees and new foliage. give me water hyacinths or give me death.

incorporate mud into the bottoms of the lakes. Bring Back Fireflies- introduce dragonflies with them as well. butterflies and moths, too. make bigger trees more common in forests so their both more realistic and easier to traverse. consider a rare biome called an ancient forest where all the trees are massive [think a jungle, but with less undergrowth and all the trees are oak.] add different undergrowth. add bushes and new grass like flowering grass and prairie grass and clover and ground plants. add more vine types like ivy and leaves like glowberries [wisteria? maybe.] incorporate moss into forests and add more moss types. make petrified oak it’s own wood type and add petrified forests. make jungles That Much More annoying to traverse by adding poisonous plants. add cenotes because they’re cool.

add carnivorous plants that can eat bugs and possibly produce materials from it [firefly = firefly glow, butterflies = butterfly dust, both can possibly be used as a potion ingredients, which could be justified since most carnivorous plants live in swamps. you know what else lives in swamps? yeah]. add more mushroom types. make some of them edible for the funnies. Bring Back the Birch Forest Overhaul [my BABY :wails:]. consider tree limbs that can be cut down with silk touch and used as barriers [around the same thickness as a wall, but they can’t connect to each other, though fences and walls can]. add birds to roost on said tree branches- initially they don’t do anything except add ambience [as they should], but perhaps they can drop special feathers that give effects to arrows [blue = speed, red = damage, etc etc].

bigger birds as well ; flamingos in lakes, hawks in the desert, penguins in frozen oceans. make them all tameable or at least able to perform tasks for you- flamingos can sift through the sand for treasure. penguins can fish for you. hawks can hunt for you. make it rabbits specifically, we all know how hard those are to hunt. you know what, add salt lakes for flamingos. add salt flats. add white beaches around warm oceans. add a rare white desert variant. add more flora to deserts in lush deserts or chaparrals. palm trees and oasises that grow special plants around it. add succulents- not just little echeveria but the big agave and aloe vera as well. add joshua trees and palo verde. make palo verde wood green, just to be special. add arches and hoodoo [these things] and various other sandstone structures. introduce gold panning possibly alongside archeology. add vultures that you can tame to protect you from husks [WHY don’t they burn in the sun. idc if they’re desert zombies. it’s horrible].

add desert poppies. no specific reason i just think they’re neat. add california poppies. make it so they only grow in a specific coastal mountain sub-biome. yes i tried to search up where they normally grow but minecraft is known for being hyper-specific about things so i’ll let this slide. speaking of segways, add yellowstone-style calderas. have them contain a special wildly alkaline water that has the same properties as lava, aka it will kill you if you try to swim in it. you can bottle it if you want to make potions with it. geysers also exist and can send you into the air, though they have a high chance of burning you if your too close to the hole, but you can use it to boost elytra.

consider earthquakes that can knock unsupported blocks down and open cracks in the floor, consider tornadoes and hurricanes that can flood holes with water and break weak blocks [i.e wool, leaves, banners, glass], consider whirlpools that are essentially just free moving bubble columns that are just there to mess with you. add puddles that spawn during rainstorms and underneath dripping water. add intentional seaside caves that have sand lining the floor. actually yknow what just overhaul beaches. make seaside cliffs look cooler. add beach-specific plants like beach grass and ice plants. more types of water plants- different species of kelp and sea grasses. add more ocean fauna. add ocean stacks. add special islands akin to the galápagos islands with weird ass biodiversity. add black sand beaches.

add volcanos and their sub-biomes, like volcanic fields filled with pumice and volcanic valleys with special soil and flowers and volcanic tunnels formed by old lava tubes. add fumaroles and crater lakes and hot springs. add ash and soot that functions similarly to snow that can also be found after a fire. add underwater hydrothermal vents that support special ecosystems. make the oceans deeper come ON bro. make it so it gets darker the further down you go and, unless you have a special helmet enchantment, you start to die from the pressure [ntm suffocation]. add bioluminescent fish like the stoplight loosejaw and anglerfish. add the blobfish but it actually looks normal this time. add rare bone structures similar to the ones in deserts and swamps that are home to bone worms and giant isopods. make it make sense by adding whales.

maybe even sharks. make them neutral like wolves. make some of them like nurse sharks or lemon sharks tameable, and you can use them to herd fish similar to cats and creepers. add whale sharks that you can mount though they are incredibly slow and can’t be controlled. add greenland sharks that do literally nothing except vibe. add seals or sea lions or walruses, which can be passive, neutral, or defensive, in that order. add otters that you can also tame to catch fish and collect treasure. add beavers that build dams and produce special new blocks that resemble broken wood and wood pulp. add grizzly bears. make salmon travel upstream. make fish breedable to produce roe that is a quick, albeit rather poor food source. add rice that grows in shallow water. screw it, sushi. add ducks that function pretty much like water chickens. add more fish to rivers like pike and bass and catfish. make rivers bigger btw. add lotuses and algae and water lettuce and duckweed and maybe even… water hyacinths, perhaps? do you see my visions.

#🌵#🖊#hey [<- unwell]#alex’s mobs 2 : the worse edition #these are all Very Much just me having thoughts on my head but imagine how cool some of these would be ingame #minecraft

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youngcollectedtired · 3 months

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Me as a Hero | Hawks x Gen Z!Hero!OC

[Facing the Public]

So I came up with this idea or concept that I really want to just have fun with. It's me as a hero but also as gen z and this series will more than likely include just different things, I think would be funny or interesting to explore in the MHA world. Season 6 really opened a lot up for some of these ideas so I'm really excited to see where this series takes me. For now, I've tried writing this with head cannons, but it is not an x reader until I can get my format together. This is going to be very unserious and kind of a word vomit, but I think it's a cool idea so yeah. I'm mainly using this as an excuse to write small ideas into a short story to get me back into writing :))

Hope you enjoy :))

Character Info

Hero Name: Atlas

Quirk: Atlas Moth

Physique: Chubby, 5'5

I personally pictured her as black/mixed. So do with that what you will.

Little background: Atlas became a hero very young. She graduated high school (UA) early due to the hero commission. Her moth wings give her flight, durability, and silk weapons that stem from her wings. As part moth she is naturally chubby due to her quirk Atlas Moth taking after the largest moth in the world. She faces daily criticism but does her best to ignore it. She met Hawks shortly after graduation and because of the similarity in their quirks they teamed up often and now work alongside one another as partners. She works at UA part time and is close with Class 1a. There will be very brief mentions of season 6 (not in great detail) just if you've seen season 6 you'll know what I'm talking about.

We find Hawks and Atlas after saving daycare students from a villain, but they were unable to prevent the substantial damage that was done to the school and the surrounding buildings.

A group of kids had walked by thanking Hawks and I profusely for everything we had done. I turned to Hawks and was not surprised to find him already looking at me.

"What?" He asked.

I just gently smiled, "that's why we do what we do. For them, for us." And a smile also reached his face.

Because of the work we'd both done I knew there was quite a bit of media coverage. A reporter in fact had walked over to us both, a mic in hand and a camera following.

Keigo grabbed my hand, and I knew exactly why.

The reporter seemed nice enough, giving a quick hello before starting with: “So Ms. Atlas civilians are confused about your original mission statement that you made when you first became a hero at 17. 'You promised us we’d be safe however the damage you’ve left behind shows otherwise.' Some people say. What do you have to say in regard to that?”

Hawks gripped my hand tighter, and I looked at him for the corner of my eye. He was shaking his head.

I know what he’s thinking. And I’m not going to listen :))))

Atlas: Well I’d say, “are you a hero?"

Reporter: Excuse me?

Atlas: Are you any of your critics out there heroes?

Reporter: I’m not sure I take your meaning.

Atlas: Well let me spell it out for you. A lot of you civilians have a lot to say about how a heroes job should be done but I don’t see any of you out here. Did you go to hero school?

Reporter: *Shocked and Silenced*

Atlas: Do you see this *points to fresh scars* or this *points to hawks fresh scars* if you can’t see it or just refuse to its blood. Blood, we spilled trying to protect all of you. Which should tell you SURPRISE we’re not perfect.

Hawks: Okay thank you so much, we gotta go Atlas, you know more bad people to put away.

Atlas: Wait wait I’m not done one more thing.

Hawks: are you gonna be nice?

Atlas: of courseeeee

Hawks: *rolls his eyes because how much worse could it get*

Atlas: Everyday you look at a hero and you think we’re more than you and that we’re better. But we’re human just like you, which means we’re all equals, and I can still beat your as-

Hawks: OKAY time to go. Thanks for the interview *grabs my hood and drags me away* We have got to work on your publicity!

Atlas: *screaming one more time* and if I hear one more person say something about my boy DEKU OR CLASS 1A ITS ON SIGHT!!!

Reporter: okay uh back to you at the station.

Later at UA

Class 1a was spread out in there dorm common room around Hawks and I. We'd brought treats for them as usual. They knew me both as Hawk's hero partner and there HR instructor (ironically).

Kirishima: I know we’re supposed to respect the public and all that because that's what you taught us but WOW ATLAS THAT WAS SO MANLY

Aizawa: I should be scolding you but I can’t lie. I’m proud of you.

Bakugo: Heh them idiots had it coming!

Atlas: See hawks it wasn’t all that bad

Hawks: Atlas, you told the civilians that you can still beat them up and you told them they could catch your hands?? What part of what I just said is not THAT bad?

Midoriya: Thanks Ms. Atlas but you didn’t have to ruin your reputation for me.

Atlas: Don’t worry Izuku I’ve just been waiting for the right time to speak my mind. Besides you shouldn’t have to take all there crap. You’re doing your best and that’s all that matters. All of you. Just because they’re the people you’re meant to save doesn’t give them the right to talk bad about you. Any one of you could have become villains and then they’d really have something to say but you didn’t. All of you choose the high road. For whatever reason.

The class soaked in your words.

Atlas: Now me personally you know being a chubby hero with a cute quirk I’m already publicly criticized so I could care less what the public thinks of me. But you know that’s just me. Each of you will have to decide how much of the public life you’ll let dictate how you live your life. But that’s your decision and yours alone. Okay now I’m off my soap opera.

Hawks: Don’t worry. It was a pretty cute one watching you get all passionate.

Atlas: Shut up Keigo

Girls of class 1a: aweeee

Hawks and I finished the night as we usually did, me in the kitchen cooking dinner for everyone with Sato and Momo. And Hawks losing a game of uno.

I won't even lie to you I've been wanting a way to voice my frustrations with the civilians from season 6. In all movies and shows I've always personally disliked the civilian's reactions when the hero makes a mistake (examples; transformers dark of the moon, Captain America civil war, Batman Vs. Superman). While it is realistic it still pisses me off.

Anyways that was super fun. I'm excited for other ideas I have. Next one will more than likely be x reader because it just flows better that way.

Thanks for reading my ideas byeeeee :)))

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ao3bronte · 3 years

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Transience

This is my contribution to @mlwriterzine Once Upon A Season! It was a pleasure to be a part of the project and the finished piece (a gorgeous 260 page paperback) was a treat!

Also on AO3!

Adrien is and always has been a young man of many talents. He excels in sports, outshines in academics, and loves tinkering with the vintage 1962 Ferrari he keeps in a secret garage just up the road from their belle-époque penthouse apartment in Paris. So honestly, Marinette shouldn’t have been surprised upon finding a sailing yacht waiting for them in the luxurious marina of Saint-Tropez.

“Um...” Gobsmacked, Marinette slips off her sandals and follows him over the exquisitely varnished toerail, “... since when do you know how to drive a boat?”

“Since I was eight.” Adrien shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “Mère loved to come down every year to watch the annual regatta. She even sailed in a few of them herself.”

“Wow.” Marinette’s eyes grow wide as she gawks at the opulent 16 metre sailboat. She’d never dreamt of setting foot on one, let alone cruising on one through the French Riviera for a week on her honeymoon. Elated, Marinette can hardly keep the stars from her eyes as she drops her shoulder bag and scampers across the deck until she reaches the front of the vessel, splaying her arms out wide.

“I’m the king of the world!” she cries, laughing as Adrien runs along behind her and plants his hands on her hips, holding her steady.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” She grins into the salty breeze coming off the Mediterranean and steps onto the first rung of the railings. “Just don’t let me fall overboard.”

“You’ll be flying soon, M’Lady.” Adrien pulls her against his chest and presses a kiss to her temple, his stubble scratching softly against her skin. “But first, we have some fenders to collect.”

Marinette blinks. “Uh... what exactly is a fender?”

Adrien’s indulgent laughter echoes in the headsail. “You’re about to get a crash course in Sailing 101, Buginette. Are you ready to be my first mate?”

Marinette spins around in his arms and bops him on the nose. “Teach me everything you know, Captain Kitty.”

Adrien hums, tipping her chin upwards to kiss her lips. “I like the sound of that.”

After a few minutes of acquiring her sea legs, Marinette and Adrien Dupain-Cheng are off amidst the serene waves of la Côte d'Azur for a honeymoon trip of a lifetime. Marinette can’t keep her eyes off of the hill-perched towns dotting the coastline, sun-drenched and prismatic against the turquoise waters of the Med. Beside her, Adrien keeps their vessel steady, his seasoned gaze trained on the horizon as they pull out of port and soar northwards, the wind at their every beck and call.

For centuries, every Parisian worth their salt flocked to the French Riviera to soak up the Mediterranean sun and the Agreste’s were no different, once upon a time. Adrien’s childhood memories aboard the Éphémère remind him of bouillabaisse and happier days spent scampering across deck pretending to be a pirate in search of buried treasure. It’s something he hopes he can share with his own children one day, especially now that he and his wife no longer have to spend every spare moment of their lives fighting Hawk Moth.

Sensing her husband’s pensive mood, Marinette snuggles deeper into his side as the afternoon sun begins to dip towards the horizon. She doesn’t need Adrien to assure her that their evenings onboard together will be positively serene with nothing but the seabirds to obstruct the sunset that will surely steal their breath away. He kisses her forehead and hugs her close, his guiding light within the storm that had been brewing since his childhood. After all those years of rough seas at the hands of his father, things were finally settling into an even keel.

Marinette learns the ins and outs of sailing quickly, securing lines and watching for traffic as they navigate along the seaboard of Saint Raphaël . Jibs and boons soon become a part of her vocabulary, and once they've successfully moored in the neighbouring marina, Marinette feels like she's run a marathon.

"That was exhausting," she groans, slumping into the cushions on the sundeck.

Adrien beams, having barely broken a sweat. "Come on; I'll make it worth your while."

Hauling her back onto her feet, Adrien leads her down into the main cabin. All clean lines and warm teak, Marinette leaves her duffel bag on the sofa and explores the spacious interior with curious eyes, carding her fingers through the decades old fashion magazines stacked in a woven basket resting on the floor. He leaves her to explore and hauls their luggage and a cooler down the ladder, filling the marine fridge with fixings for their first dinner outside of Paris. It's peaceful, with nothing but the sounds of the waves to keep them company.

The lights are warm and low in their galley kitchen, a cozy escape from the endless vistas of rocky crags and pastel-orange buildings whose narrow streets spill into the sea. Their table is just large enough for two wicker placemats and a bottle of Mouton-Cadet; old vases filled with seaglass and shells rest on every side table, their edges wrapped in nautical rope. By the counter, Marinette grates a snowy pile of Pecorino cheese over a mound of steaming spaghetti while beside her Adrien grinds fresh pepper into a ramekin, his stomach growling after an afternoon spent at sea. A comfortable silence ebbs and flows between them as the evening tide laps against the hull, drawing them towards the tangy, indulgent nest of cacio e pepe they made together.

Marinette wakes the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee and a deftly wrapped gift on the bedside table of their lavish master cabin. Slipping her bare legs across the silk sheets as she sits up, she opens her present and plucks one of her own Chat Noir inspired creations from the tissue paper along with a note attached inside.

Care to go for a dip with me, M’Lady?

Marinette snorts and ties the black and neon green bikini up at the neck and hips, leaving a few very tantalizing strings to pull should Adrien let his feline instincts get the best of him. Goodness knows he wouldn’t be able to resist himself, what with the way he could hardly keep his hands off of her last night while they were trying to find a deck of cards in the saloon. She glances at herself in the mirror to wipe the sleep from her eyes and quickly fastens her hair into a loose ponytail, ready to tease her husband senseless.

“Welcome to Cannes!” he announces as she emerges from below deck, mesmerized by the morning sun illuminating his blond hair like a halo. He’s gorgeous in every sense of the word, thoughtful and generous and unfailingly kind, and even in his darkest moments, he never ceases to steal her breath away.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, hooking her fingers into the belt loops of his chinos, “but not as beautiful as you.”

A ruddy flush blooms across his cheeks, a constant victim to her soft-spoken praises. “I can hardly compete against you, Buginette, especially when you’re wearing that.”

“I don’t know...” She grazes her fingernails against his bare chest and smirks as the familiar rumble in his sternum kicks into low gear. “I think the sun suits you.”

“Enough to consider moving down here for good?”

Marinette shrugs; keeping their lives rooted in Paris has been a point of contention between them since the arrest of his father. “Not permanently, no, but I wouldn’t protest if we vacationed here more often.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you overwork yourself,” he responds, closing his eyes as she continues to explore the chiseled planes of his abs. She’s always been gifted when it comes to distractions and this morning is no different; like wayfaring on a starless night, she’s always been the beacon to guide his way. “Now, I thought I invited you up here for a swim?”

“You did.” Marinette steps back, giving him the merciful reprieve he’d needed to calm his beating heart. “And it is kind of hot up here.”

His grip on the ship’s wheel tightens. “No thanks to you.”

“Easy there, Captain Kitty.” Marinette smirks, flicking the golden bell sewn to the bridge of her bikini top. “Race you!”

“Hey!” he gapes at her, scandalized. “I still have to drop anchor!”

Marinette giggles as she zooms past him, leaping off the back of the boat with delight. “Last one in the water has to make breakfast!”

Meandering through the Medieval streets of the old city, Marinette and Adrien pause to catch a glimpse of Villefranche-sur-Mer ’s idyllic harbour. There’s an enormous cruise ship dominating the horizon and Adrien is thankful that they’d brought their disguises in tow. No one has recognized either of them with the way they’ve camouflaged themselves in their floppy beach hats and oversized sunglasses.

Marinette spends the afternoon popping in and out of boutiques with turquoise shutters, snapping photos and picking up little trinkets along the way. They stop for lunch at a peaches-and-cream couloured bistro nestled against the water’s edge, its open windows basking the sunlit stone walls with salt-scented air. Adrien joyfully devours his meal, a simply grilled loup de mer with fennel and lemon, while Marinette chatters over a bowl of Niçoise octopus salad that she had been eager to try since spotting it on the chalkboard menu outside.

“It feels weird, not having them around.” Adrien balances a piece of julienned fennel between the tines of his fork. “It’s the first time I’ve taken my ring off in ten years.”

“I promise you, Tikki and Plagg are appreciating their vacation too,” Marinette assures him around a mouthful of cherry tomatoes. “They deserve a break after what happened. We both do.”

Adrien nods and is quiet for a while.

“When I was a kid, I used to watch the cliff divers jump into that cove,” Adrien mentions as they sail by, pointing towards a sharp craig jutting from the coastline. “I always wanted to do it myself. Maybe I will.”

“You’re free to do whatever you want now.” Marinette smiles into the wind, the skirt of her sundress billowing up passed her thighs. “So chart us a course, Captain Kitty. Where are we going next?”

“First, we’re stopping in Èze .” Adrien brushes his bangs from his eyes and relishes in being at the helm of transience. “There are galleries all over the place that I know you’ll love. And we have a dinner reservation. I thought you’d appreciate the view.”

Marinette lowers her sunglasses. “I like the view here just fine, thanks.”

“I could say the same thing about you.” Adrien smirks and snags her by the hips, easily hauling her up onto the dash of the cockpit. She squeals as he savours the salt on her skin as he plants a kiss on her knee in mock apology. “There. Now I have you right where I want you.”

She kicks and he dodges easily, catching her foot with lightning fast reflexes born from being merged with the Black Cat Miraculous for so long. It’s a familiar song and dance between them, a playful contest sparking in their eyes as he peppers kisses along her ankle, her calf, anywhere he can reach. He stops just shy of the constellation of freckles at the hem of her dress and makes eye contact through his lashes, flashing her a mischievous Chat Noir smile. “I wonder if you’re ... ticklish?

Marinette shrieks as Adrien starts tickling her toes, running his fingernails up and down the arches of her feet. She’s tortured him a thousand times by attacking his sides when he least expected it so he figures it’s about time he seeks revenge. “Adrien! Stop!”

He doesn’t, of course, and chooses to memorize each and every facet of her beauty instead; her smile and her pained laughter, her marks and scars from the final battle only a month before their wedding day. “I’m never letting you go!”

“You’re going to— stop it! —have to if we ever want to get to Èze .” Marinette manages to wrench her ankle free and hops down from the ledge, landing easily in his outstretched arms. “That is, unless you want to crash.”

“If we shipwreck,” Adrien bends low and devours that little spot on her neck that makes her weak every time, “promise me you won’t hog the whole door?”

Marinette bursts into laughter. “Are we seriously going to have this debate again?”

“I’m serious! Jack could have totally fit on that— mmpf! ”

Cupping his cheeks, Marinette hurriedly kisses away the space between them and silences his long-winded debate once and for all. It’s an effective way to shut him up—all things considered—and an astonished gasp spirals from his lips as she hoists herself up his body and brackets his hips with her thighs. She claims him, covets him, her tongue sweeping across his lower lip, and he’s helpless to her siren’s song as he braces her against the cockpit’s controls and clings to her like a drowning man.

“Alright, you win.” Breathless and lightheaded, Adrien pulls back after a while just to soak her in, to remind himself that he’s married to the most beautiful woman in the world. He gazes in awe as she recovers, her flushed cheeks and parted lips swollen and wet. Adrien is drawn back in like a magnet, kissing her with every intention of stealing her breath away.

She buries her hands in his hair, her nails gently scraping against his scalp as Adrien all but melts in her embrace, groaning with pleasure. He deepens their kiss, and Adrien feels drunk with his desire to claim, their passion speaking more than words between them ever could. Every gasp and moan conveys their everlasting partnership and the terror of nearly losing one another in the whirlwind. Shell-shocked and injured, they still held their wedding ceremony, even as the fallout had tugged at their ankles, gossip and chaos pooling around their feet. Together, they’d inherited an empire he’d never wanted in the first place, thrusting them into a world unprepared and raw with nothing but each other as a tether in the storm.

“I love you,” she murmurs against his lips, her heartbeat hammering a tattoo inside her chest. He can feel it against his own, fast and strong and wonderfully alive. “We’ll get through this; together.”

Later, as they draw nearer to the charming port town of Èze, Adrien draws her close and hopes she never leaves his side. “Where to, Miss?”

Marinette smiles. “To the stars.”

Nothing comes so abundantly as time when you’re sailing through the seemingly endless vistas of the Med. Their honeymoon stretches on for longer than a week simply because it can; he owns their floating home-away-from-home and she’s working remotely, snagging a Wi-Fi signal whenever they’re in port.

Neither of them seem to be in any hurry to leave the solace of the French Riviera behind. It’s where he’s feasted on fresh seafood and felt better than he has in weeks. It’s where they’ve kissed and made love under the stars a thousand times over. It’s where he’s confessed his doubts about living in Paris and where she’s supported his struggle to leave his father behind.

They’re moored in Antibes tonight and the skies are awash in vibrant pinks and apricot. He drizzles balsamic vinegar onto a shimmering pond of Italian olive oil; she wears hair pins with flowers on them and pours wine like an expert, heedless to the way he’s staring at her like she’s his only source of air.

“I love you,” he whispers. It’s enough.

#miraculous ladybug #adrinette #ml fic #miraculous fanfic #ml writer zine

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snacc-noir · 4 years

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Unseal and Reveal pt2

Ao3

Part 1

Adapted from this post

Summary:

Adrien asks Marinette to fake date him after his father finds a pink ‘love note’ containing just her name on it

— but it was really the emergency note Ladybug gave him in case he needed to know her identity

Adrien has screwed up.

But before anything begins, he’d like to make it very clear that he’s only ever had good intentions, believable smiles, and incredible lying ability – no matter what his friends say (“You once told Alya you had a great dentist so Marinette wouldn’t be suspicious”), because he’s kept the fact he’s Chat Noir under wraps and no one has been the wiser.

Then again, Chat Noir is stylish, handsome, incredibly dressed, insanely hilarious, im(pecc)ably ripped, totally—

Yeah, so Adrien just can’t live up to that (If it came down to it, he’d totally fall in love with himself if circumstances allowed.), and thus his identity is pretty secure , unlike his self-esteem on a good day.

Specifically, today.

Because he has screwed up.

So yes, he’s somehow the best and worst liar ever, which probably likens to how it isn’t his secret identity that he Accidentally (three underlines for ‘accidentally’) reveals, but, uh, someone else’s.

Ladybug’s.

He knows Ladybug’s identity.

But hey! Hey— remember, her idea. It was never him who suggested the ‘let’s write our names on letters in case we need to know in an emergency’, as that was definitely her.

He’s screwed everything up, but it was definitely her.

“Did you know? ”

“Duh,” his kwami’s gravel voice says, “I know everything.”

Adrien’s hands are rousing his hair so much at this point he might expose himself as Chat Noir if anyone went by his lean windows. “You knew this whole time!? That Ladybug is– That she’s– That—”

All air escapes him in a corrupt elongated syllable. He flops on his Extra King size bed with silk sheets and fluffed pillows, almost knocking his model agency’s branded hydro-flask onto the desk adjacent with three exorbitant monitor screens. Oh, how difficult his life is.

“You’re so pathetic.”

He is.

“This is hilarious.”

It is not.

‘“What am I supposed to do, Plagg?! Call her? ‘Hey love of my life, it’s me Adrien, but you also know me as Chat Noir. I accidentally found out your identity and long story short, my household thinks we’re dating and wants you over for dinner. Are you up for fake-dating and not killing me, please?”

His kwami skulls a camembert roll. “I’m down for that idea.”

Adrien pegs a sock.

“How are you so calm?”

“I shrugged in the face of dinosaur extinction. Your damsel in distress crisis – you’re the damsel, by the way – and ‘oohhh no, I’m so in love’ hullabaloo is nothing.”

Adrien’s frown deepens. “I don’t sound like that.”

“You do. Your voice goes like eee .”

“What? No it doesn’t”

“You’re right, it’s more like ahhh . ”

The heat in Adrien’s acid eyes smarten. He crosses his arms, huffing in a way he hasn’t since early childhood, and glares at his ceiling. “I’m done talking to you.”

He isn’t, of course, as there’s only one person in his life he can complain to about his array of #RelatableTeenBoy issues, like ditching your favourite topic of Physics one class to cater to a Giant Baby akuma (again) and being late due to lack of places to change into your skin-tight cat suit (you know; just those little things). And by Hawk Moth’s insufferable menacing he isn’t letting that outlet fall from under him. He needs to clear his thoughts, because believe him, there is a lot to sift, and it doesn’t help when part of this whole catastrophe has left him with the knowledge that—

“Marinette is Ladybug!”

Plagg has moved to Adrien’s three-panelled computer desk and is clicking through something. “I’m so glad you’ve caught up.”

“And if she’s Ladybug, that means,” he goes on, white overshirt sleeves now uneven as he animates his words with a pillow, “she was just saying to me – to Chat – she was in love with him to save her identity! And there’s another boy she’s in love with! And–! And I might know who it is!”

“Who?” Plagg asks, the volume juxtaposing his welder’s.

“I said 'might’.”

The keys click louder. “You mean because you know Ladybug in real life you could have met him before? Or you actually know him?”

“I don’t know! I just know that Marinette’s… She’s in love with another guy.” The earlier exhilaration drains and his chest feels hollow and soul-sucking. “Wait– I can’t ask her to be my fake-girlfriend!”

The destructive god scrolls through the itemised shopping cart to double-check his fromage orders without any fear of his owner noticing. Well you obviously don’t have a choice. Your dad wants her over for dinner. Besides, it’s Ladybug, remember? She’ll do anything to help a friend out.”

Ladybug.

Marinette.

Of course.

There are still many things that don’t add up (Multimouse: just how?) but of course.

He can’t risk his own identity and hers to his father. He must keep the façade up. And if that mean s falling on his knees in front of who unarguably should be the most glorified woman in the world, crying to her to please just be his fake – very much, but unfortunately fake – girlfriend.

He will.

He’ll do it right now.

“I can’t believe you chickened out.”

Walks to school, even with the cost of waking up earlier, are always more refreshing than drives in cold silence. The freedom here is less pale, and he can hiss at Plagg all he wants with only the dignity loss of onlookers noticing him crankily talking to himself.

“Oh wait, yes I can. Because you’re a coward~. ”

“I did not ‘chicken out’,” Adrien snaps. “And I’m no coward. I just— I need to speak to her in person instead. This way, she didn’t have to receive an unwanted call so late.”

“You mean six?”

He huffs. “Marinette needs all the sleep she can get.” He pokes the creature back into his overshirt. “She’s always so busy. Even you’ve seen her collapse in class. Wait—!”

The only one that waits is himself, columned with the line of trees ahead, locked in the interval of his soap opera as his audience darts for a shiny rock near a fire hydrant.

“Because she’s Ladybug too! Of course! Of course! This makes so much sense! She’s so tired and overworked! It’s no wonder she’s all over the place – in the best of ways, I mean, she’s literally adorable when she’s frantic. Wait, have I always thought that? Have I always seen Marinette as the cutest thing ever? Her spluttering is so endearing. And if she’s already so tired, I can’t make her fake date me, too! She’s already so stressed! I’d literally be the scum of the earth if I even dare—”

Plagg is staring at him with flat interest. Humbly aware of his judgement, Adrien swallows, letting the air untense and clams his hands – eager to narrate his animated allegory – in his pockets in strife to get a grip.

He sighs.

“What if I mess it up, Plagg?”

He inventories his new rock in Adrien’s satchel. A hymn of silence roots in the place of what should be a snide remark. But there is no fed-up comment, just a kwami wriggling under his overshirt out of sight and a solemn voice that issues from it,

“Kid, you’re partners. You work together. You forgive each other. You trust each other. And if Ladybug trusts you,” he sticks his head out a little more, “find it in you to trust yourself. You won’t mess this up if you put her and her identity’s safety first, which I know you will, because you love her and you’re a great hero.”

Adrenaline dampening, Adrien smiles.

“Thanks, Plagg.”

Marinette has never believed in bad luck until she met Chat Noir (fifty Mr Pigeon akumatisations this year with a feather allergy? The next lucky charm is going to be an Epi-pen) and for a while, she didn’t believe in good luck, even with being Ladybug.

But that was then. Back then, meaning like, ten minutes ago before she was invited to stay back after PE by Adrien.

Right now, though? Right now, she’s decided she’s going to hand-sew a bedazzled shirt embossed with, “Goddess of Luck” to wear while Ladybug on patrol (and on the back, a quote she woke up to on Instagram this morning: ‘“can also kick ass” – Adrien Agreste’ (she took ten screenshots when he posted that)), because Marinette has good luck.

“You’ll be doing me a huge favour,” the ass-kicking quoter says on an afternoon she has not planned to receive the most exciting request of her life.

And you know what she says?

You know what the stuttering girl who may as well trademark the word ‘GAH’ she falls that much, says?

You’ll never guess.

No really, you won’t.

Because turns out, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is more than just accomplished.

So what if she thrones the winning title of a Gabriel fashion comp? What even matters of being class president and an all-around likable person? Who takes notice of another fashion mogul inviting you to live in New York because of your talent? ––An invitation you had to decline because, you know, being Paris’ zero-pay superheroine has a sprinkle more of importance. And oh, did she mention she’s Ladybug? Because she’s Ladybug. A superhero.

But none of that matters right now.

“I’d be happy to help.”

Because she’s said yes.

She—Marinette McStutter Dupain-Cheng—has said yes with her mouth (not vague hand animations over blubbering nonsense) to Adrien, and although her muscles are locked with their key over the Eiffel tower (and the tiny detail that her thoughts are screaming so much she can’t hear a thing of his relief and numerous ‘thank you’s), she’s still said yes!

Screw every other accomplishment. She’s said yes to being Adrien’s fake girlfriend.

Ladybug? Nah, that’s Mrs. Fake Agreste to you.

Good luck is real.

Okay but sure, ‘Fake girlfriend’ doesn’t exactly live up to ‘Very real girlfriend’, but being a fake isn’t that bad! She’s seen Lila do it every day for months – oh, hang on, no actually the term ‘fake’ has very negative and huge implications, then. However, in Marinette’s heavenly-blessed case, ‘fake’ means she’s doing a very big favour for a friend and is going to get more time with Adrien – just to name a few positives.

“Seriously Marinette, you have no idea how much this means to me. I can’t believe I’m so lucky to have a friend like you.”

‘Oh honey, I’m the lucky one. ’

“It’s– It’s no problem! Yeah! Really, I’ll come to dinner, no problem! It can’t be too hard. I can be your girlfriend! Eugh– Pretend girlfriend. It’s not hard being in love with you! I mean– Ugh!”

The monstrosity that is the never-shutting-up hole in her face is blocked off by frantic hands, stifling the last of her eloquent groan. But peering up, she realises she really has underestimated how much this means to Adrien, because he looks like he’s poised on a cliff of ecstasy ready to fall – eyes verdant, big, and lushed over with a hue of moisture that twinkles, and a smile so bright and toothy the sunlight hollowing out the remaining shade of the PE stadium glints off it.

In fact, her mess of a speech is such a compliment to Adrien that her locked-limbed body is suddenly engulfed by his. Startled in delightful senses of the word, she squeaks, and he quickly pulls away, face a few rose tones darker than before as his hands twitch at his side unsurely.

“Uhh, I guess we have to get planning.”

She watches in transfixed attraction as Adrien picks both their schoolbags up, finally blurting (without any squeak, she may add),

“Y–Yes. We do.”

(she didn’t say any stutter, so shut up.)

“Would your father let you come over right now since school’s almost finished?”

He casts a look to the exit thoughtfully. His flawless side-profile in high resolution before her, she sees the corner of his mouth quirk up in an unsettling familiar way, as if his whole charisma shifts to someone else’s.

They do need to plan; to run away together, where only they share this odd secret - a place alone together where they'll look each other eye-to-eye and practice their sonnets of love to construct a believable facade for his father-

“It’s more fun sneaking to my girlfriend’s house, isn’t it?”

That time, she squeaks.

And comes to the daunting realisation:

Marinette is screwed.

#I’ll add the @s in the replies cos I know people wanted a part 2 #it took me YONKS to effectively post this #also thanks again to the person who created the idea to let me do this #it’s kinda steered from the envelop theme and a full-fledged fake dating au I guess #miraculous ladybug #ml fic #adrienette #adrinette #identity reveal #original content #em writes

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deaddovecoterie · 3 years

Text

butterflies

marinette dupain cheng x adrien agreste || ladybug x chat noir

fandom: miraculous ladybug

rating: T (maybe R to be safe for next chp? ahaha jk jk,,, unless?,,,)

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst. just pure angst. maybe fluff if you squint real hard

warning(s): swearing, vaguely unedited, blood mention

a/n: heyyyy :DD im back on my writing bullshit with my favourite personnnn (guess who) @whoseblogsthis cause me and this talented mf co-wrote this :’) ky i just wanna know what it feels like to carry every ff we write together on your back because of my linguistic incompetence. anyway this is my first mlb fic so i hope yall like it i guess !!

——————————————————————————

“...Bystanders have not been hurt, although Paris’ superheroes have not made an appearance yet…”

There was unrest among the students of Francoise Dupont High School as Adrien listened to his friends talk quietly amongst one another. Thunder rumbled in the distance as heavy, chilling rain poured down from the skies. There was a gloomy eeriness that clung to the air, a quiet that made the high schoolers feel like they were just waiting for something to shatter the silence. Grey clouds were collecting, casting the city in shadow-like darkness.

Another Akuma attack had been reported yet again. The Parisian superheroes were more than glad to help out, but it was obvious they were tiring: their moves became sloppier, their conversations shorter, and their patience thinner.

Adrien listened to the chatter exchanged between Alya and Nino, while Marinette remained quiet. She looked tired, which really wasn’t that uncommon, but her fatigue seemed to spill into all of her activities. She had less “pep in her step,” as Alya had said, and her eyes weren’t nearly as bright as they used to be. Not that he meant to pay attention to such things, of course, but it was hard to not notice. Even Chloe, who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but herself, had laid off on the harassment. Adrien chalked up his attentiveness to Marinette as nothing more than being a good, concerned friend, but as of late that excuse was becoming harder to sell, even to himself.

It started about four months ago when they came back from summer break. Everyone had gone back to school and while Adrien was physically there, he was mentally absent. Kagami had just gone abroad for school again after they’d broken things off. He would have liked to say it was a mutual breakup, but she was the one who brought it up. Kagami was wise beyond her years so when she told him that his heart wasn’t in the relationship, he knew she was right. He expected his first heartbreak to be gut-wrenching, but it wasn’t. He felt sad, sure, but not in the way that leaves you paralyzed in bed for weeks on end. At the time, he wondered why that was, but the answer was obvious: Marinette.

When he got to school, it was almost as if she could see the gloomy cloud over his head. She was there for him when no one else seemed to notice, her stuttering and fumbling hardly present in their conversation. In the beginning, he felt almost guilty for confiding in her. It would’ve been ignorant of him to believe she didn’t have problems of her own (who didn’t?), but it was a fact known by many that Marinette Dupain-Chang was one to do whatever she could to help the people she cared for.

It was then that he noticed it: the butterflies. It was like a tsunami of anxiety, excitement, and shyness all rolled into one whenever she did anything: the way her hair moved in the breeze, her clear laugh that dared him to smile, but most of all, her kindness. Marinette was one of those people that you couldn’t hate. She was that person who helped others even when no one was looking. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help himself when he started falling for her every move.

She didn’t know, probably never would, but she had him whipped.

The blonde was snapped back into reality when his best friend nudged him: “You coming?” Nino’s brow arched in question.

He looked across the street, where his bodyguard was waiting for him, standing by the driver’s side door of the sleek black Audi. Though it’s been the same car since Adrien was like thirteen, it still looked brand new.

“I forgot my homework,” he said to Nino, calling out to his bodyguard to repeat the same thing. With a barely discernible nod of approval from the bodyguard, Adrien turned back toward the school doors.

Adrien grumbled as he jogged away from his friend group: “Well, Nadia, Paris’ superheroes happen to have vaguely normal lives too if you weren’t aware.”

Plagg floated up from Adrien’s pant pocket and did circles around his owner’s head. “You put too much faith in humans, they don’t think about that kinda stuff. To them, you and Ladybug are untouchable.”

“Yeah, well we’re not,” he mumbled frustratedly. He pressed his palms into his eyes tiredly and took a deep breath before dropping his arms back down to his sides.

“Plagg claws out,” he muttered.

Plagg liked to think he knew his miraculous holder quite well. Despite the kwami’s demeanour and seeming distaste toward anything non-cheese related, he did have feelings. Yes, he loved cheese, but he also loved Adrien. He had spent the last two years with Adrien, and he knew something was terribly wrong with his owner.

He’d ask later. The cat-like kwami entered the ring miraculous, and with that, Adrien Agreste was gone, replaced by Chat Noir.

The leather-clad hero headed toward the disaster zone, the rain not doing anything to help his vision. He landed on a rooftop near the Akuma attack and swiftly surveyed the scene. Upon not seeing Ladybug anywhere, Chat Noir sent a quick message to Ladybug, highlighting the damage, before swooping in to hold off the Akuma.

xXx

To put it simply, Marinette was struggling. It had been the fifth Akuma attack that week and after two years of being Ladybug, her excuses were becoming weaker and weaker as time went on. Adrien’s abrupt exit was odd, but she didn’t have time to think about it as she felt the ground shake slightly. It didn’t matter how exhausted she was, she couldn’t put off her duties any longer.

“I uhm, I forgot I had a question for Miss Bustier. I’m going to go see if she’s still around and I’ll uh just stay here until Ladybug and Chat Noir get everything taken care of!” she flashed her friends a thumbs up and with that, she ran back inside the school, toward the locker room. She opened her tiny purse in order for Tikki to emerge. “This is bullshit,” she muttered to herself.

Tikki gasped in shock. “Marinette!”

“Sorry,” she mumbled half-heartedly, “You wouldn’t happen to care if I maybe just happened to not show up and let Chat handle it?”

The glare that the small kwami sent her way told her otherwise. “Something about this one tells me that you’ll need all the help you can get,” she told her owner.

Her stomach twisted with anxiety, both confusion and shock washing over her face. Tikki had never talked about the dangers of an Akuma before, which alarmed Marinette. Shit.

“Tikki, spots on.”

Ladybug swung with all her might as her trusty yoyo grabbed onto buildings and chimneys, the sounds of destruction nearing. A black blur, undoubtedly Chat, streaked the cloudy, grey sky as an akumatized villain screeched out. Her eyes skimmed over the cobblestone streets in front of her, but nothing could prepare her for the screams of terror and bloodied civilians that scattered the scene below.

Her feet had only touched down on the ground for a second when she heard him.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Chat purred, startling her. “You’re late,” he added, his voice icier than expected.

“Cry about it,” Ladybug responded coldly.

“Meowch m’lady,” he said in mock hurt.

“Sorry,” she muttered to her partner as she took him in. His blonde silky hair was plastered to his head from the pouring rain, the droplets permeating the black leather. If the suit wasn’t skin-tight before, it certainly was now. She had to tear her eyes away from the sight of him, her sensibility screaming at her to focus while her eyes wanted nothing more than to drink in every inch of him.

Literally what the fuck, she said to herself. Now was no time to pine for her partner.

The Akuma that stood before her was physically underwhelming in stature, but her clothing made up for it. The girl in front of them held herself at around 5’3 and couldn’t be more than 18, but her wicked smirk sent a chill through her spine. The girl was clad in an array of green from forest, sage, to mossy shades, the dress that adorned her body looking like that straight from greek mythology. It was made up of grand silks, almost entrancing Ladybug and Chat with the way that the fabric moved like rippling water. It was ethereal, really, but the closer she looked at it the deadlier it became.

From around the waist and shoulders, long strips of silk floated behind her like the snakes on the head of Medusa. They almost seemed to bend to her will, the fabric defying gravity. Not only were pieces of the dress floating, but so was her long dark hair. In her hand was a staff made from tree trunk like material. Resting atop her head was an obsidian black crown with spikes the length of Ladybug’s hand.

After looking around at the already distraught state of the street, their evaluation was over: she was not going to be another walk in the park.

“Shit,” Chat breathed out. It was at that moment that the villain opened her mouth to address both the heroes and bystanders.

“Citizens of Paris, I am Gi Mágissa. I am not here to compromise with your heroes. Others in the past have failed to retrieve what Hawk Moth desires, but I will not: today will be the day that you remember as the fall of Ladybug and Chat Noir.” Her voice resonated as if it was echoing off the walls. She shifted her gaze to the left, her eyes locking with the two of them.

“Give me your miraculous and I may decide to spare you and your city,” she said in a dangerously low voice. Her voice was smooth, yet it cut right through the two partners like a freezing wind in the dead of winter. Under any other circumstances, her words would be humorous, cheesy even, but this was not like anything else they faced.

Chat laughed as his trademarked smirk appeared. “Funny, because I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he said in mock thoughtfulness, almost like he was trying to recall a memory.

“Chat,” Ladybug hissed, “I’m starting to get the feeling that you won’t be able to joke your way out of this one,”

“C’mon m’lady, live a little.”

“Yeah, well I might not be alive to do so if you keep being an idiot.” Ladybug could feel the frustration rising in her as Chat continued to appear so casual and relaxed. How could he not sense that this was so much worse than before?

Chat turned to her and she could finally see his eyes. Despite his outward appearance, she saw the nervousness in his gaze. There was almost a buzz in the air, a metallic smell that made them wrinkle their noses: blood, iron maybe.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

#haley writes #fanfiction #mlb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom #adrein agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladynoir #adrienette #adrien x marinette #ladybug x chat noir #chat noir #cat noir #mlb fanfic #mlb fanfiction #angst #fluff #fanfic #ky tag

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kyleys-empty-mind-shit · 3 years

Text

butterflies • i

pairing(s): marinette dupain cheng x adrien agreste || ladybug x chat noir

genre(s): angst; drama

fandom: miraculous ladybug

rating: g・t・r

rated t for language, violence

word count: 1.9k

warning(s): blood mention

chapter two || chapter 3

“…Bystanders have not been hurt, although Paris’ superheroes have not made an appearance yet…”

She didn’t know, probably never would, but she had him whipped.

The blonde was snapped back into reality when his best friend nudged him: “You coming?” Nino’s brow arched in question.

Adrien grumbled as he jogged away from his friend group: “Well, Nadia, Paris’ superheroes happen to have vaguely normal lives too if you weren’t aware.”

“Yeah, well we’re not,” he mumbled frustratedly. He pressed his palms into his eyes tiredly and took a deep breath before dropping his arms back down to his sides.

“Plagg claws out,” he muttered.

He’d ask later. The cat-like kwami entered the ring miraculous, and with that, Adrien Agreste was gone, replaced by Chat Noir.

xXx

Tikki gasped in shock. “Marinette!”

“Sorry,” she mumbled half-heartedly, “You wouldn’t happen to care if I maybe just happened to not show up and let Chat handle it?”

The glare that the small kwami sent her way told her otherwise. “Something about this one tells me that you’ll need all the help you can get,” she told her owner.

Her stomach twisted with anxiety, both confusion and shock washing over her face. Tikki had never talked about the dangers of an Akuma before, which alarmed Marinette. Shit.

“Tikki, spots on.”

Her feet had only touched down on the ground for a second when she heard him.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Chat purred, startling her. “You’re late,” he added, his voice icier than expected.

“Cry about it,” Ladybug responded coldly.

“Meowch m’lady,” he said in mock hurt.

Literally what the fuck, she said to herself. Now was no time to pine for her partner.

After looking around at the already distraught state of the street, their evaluation was over: she was not going to be another walk in the park.

“Shit,” Chat breathed out. It was at that moment that the villain opened her mouth to address both the heroes and bystanders.

Chat laughed as his trademarked smirk appeared. “Funny, because I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he said in mock thoughtfulness, almost like he was trying to recall a memory.

“Chat,” Ladybug hissed, “I’m starting to get the feeling that you won’t be able to joke your way out of this one,”

“C’mon m’lady, live a little.”

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

#original post #kyley writes #mlb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #marinette x adrien #ladybug x chat noir #adrienette #ladynoir #mlb fanfiction #mlb fandom #thomas astruc #fanfiction

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miraculous786 · 4 years

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Miraculous: Chat Blanc (Sequel to Heartstring) > Twenty

Masterlist

Adrien groaned. Clawed hands reached to rub at his eyes, as he slowly sat up and opened them. His surroundings consisted of shadows and brick, along with the cold stone that he had been laying on.

There was a blur of red that zipped past his left, and he whipped his head to where it went. Across from him, beside chunks of debris and rubble, were two teens, both with bruises and cuts across their skin.

A quiet gasp escaped his lips at the sight, and he immediately moved forward to inspect them closer. However, he halted when Viperion snapped his head in his direction.

"Chaton..." Marinette whispered, staring at him with an expression of both exhaustion and happiness. "You're back."

"I- what, what happened?" Chat Noir asked, voice meek as the pinned ears atop his head drooped.

Marinette winced, as she straightened her back in an attempt to stand. Luka wrapped an arm around her waist, and allowed her to hold onto him.

"You were akumatized," he informed, whilst gazing at Chat with worry in his tone. "Ladybug was able to save you, but had to go before her timer ran out."

He sucked in a breath. "I was- I was akumatized?"

The snake hero nodded, a solemn look on his face. He turned to the girl in his arms, and pulled a stray lock of hair behind one of her ears.

Adrien tried to ignore the weight in his chest at the gesture, and instead opened his mouth to speak. "Princess, d-did I do this?"

Instead of an answer, she lifted a hand to cup his cheek gently. Pink dusted his features as she said, "I know what you're going to say, Kitty, but this isn't your fault. None of it is. It's Hawk Moth's."

"But-"

"No," she cut him off with, vocals stern. "I don't want to hear any more arguments, okay?"

A finger booped his nose in a playful manner, causing him to lose focus and stutter out an agreement. Marinette chuckled at that.

There was a tickle at her shoulder blade, and she discreetly glanced there to see Tikki giving her neck a hug with tiny paws. Luckily, the tresses reaching down to her chest blocked the kwami from sight.

"We should get out of here," Luka advised. "It's already pretty late."

The designer nodded, and felt her vision tilt as Viperion stood up with her held protectively against him. He hesitated for a moment, then locked eyes with Chat whilst opening his mouth to talk.

"I'm going to take Marinette home. Would you like to come with us?"

Chat Noir bit his lip, before looking up to the moon showering them in a sliver of light from above. "I...I would love to, but...I have to go home myself. My father must be worried that I haven't returned yet."

Luka smiled in understanding. "That's okay," he said, while adjusting the one in his hold to be in a more secure position. "Just know that you can talk to us whenever you want, and Ladybug. It wouldn't be good to have another incident like this again."

"Of course! Ladybug! Is she okay?"

Marinette giggled, a slight flush on her cheeks. "She is, don't worry. She told us that she'd cast the Cure with a Lucky Charm as soon as possible."

"That's a relief," Adrien sighed, holding his heart to stop the fast beating. He tilted his head up, and strolled closer to the two. "Goodnight Viperion, Princess."

He raised her hand to place a sweet kiss on the palm of it, then proceeded to leap off with a smug grin and an extension of his baton.

~*~*~

"My parents think that I was at Chloe's."

Viperion plucked a few strings on his harp, and glanced up just as the notes from it drifted from the chaise to the entrance of the room.

Marinette shut the trapdoor, and sauntered over to sit beside him. Her skin was now soft and unmarked, apart from the freckles dotting her cheekbones. There was also a rosy hue on them, as her friend sent her a calming smile.

"That's good to hear," he enthused. "But won't they see the news of Chat Blanc and I? He did mention you quite a few times."

Marinette's eyes widened, and she froze for a moment before groaning in realisation. She leant into his chest out of embarrassment, making him simply chuckle and hug her tight.

"I'm such an idiot..."

He grabbed her chin, and slowly brought it up to his face. "You're not, my Melody. Trust me."

She blushed prettily, glancing down. "T-Thank you," she stuttered. "I- for everything, really. Without you, Lila would've still been ruling the class, and Chloe wouldn't have been my friend."

A yawn escaped her mouth, and she covered it up with a hand.

Luka smiled. "It was nothing, Melody," he assured. "And it's getting late. You don't want to be late for school tomorrow."

Marinette mumbled a curse, reaching to grab his hand. "Don't care," she muttered. "I just wanna stay here with my date..."

He blinked, processing her words. "D-Does that mean that you want to have a second one?"

She yawned again, but this time tried to stay awake as she stretched out her arms. "Of course I do, Luka. I'd love it if we did. I...I think there's a chance we could have something."

"Really?"

"Y-Yeah," she replied, rouge dusting her features. "My, my heart's been with Adrien for years, but...I started to move on from him ever since you were akumatized. It's taken me a while, and yet...I think I love you now."

"Me?" he breathed.

"Yes. At least, I think so, but...y-you see, what Chat Blanc said I- he told me that he loved me as well," she explained, chewing her lip as she looked away. "I love you, but I don't want to hurt Chat's heart twice. I already rejected him as Ladybug. I don't want to do it again."

Luka's eyes softened, as he rubbed soothing circles on her back. "Do you think you love the both of us then?"

The female bit the inside of her cheek. "M-Maybe, I...yes."

The last word was choked, and she soon clutched him tight in a strong embrace. Viperion made eye contact with Tikki, who soon zipped to join in calming Marinette.

A look of contemplation took over his expression, and he spoke out on instinct, "I'm sure that we'll find a solution, Melody."

"Maybe I could just date the both of you?" she suggested, before slapping her cheek straight after. "No, that's selfish. Chat Blanc didn't like you, so that might not be nice for Chat Noir."

The guitarist's eyes widened. "Melody, I...that could work if we put our minds to it."

Marinette furrowed her brows. "Wait, really?"

~*~*~

"Of course Father didn't care that I was gone."

Plagg floated up to his chosen in worry. "Kid, I'm sure that's not true. Maybe he just didn't notice?"

Adrien sent a deadpan look the kwami's way, making him laugh nervously until his black ears suddenly perked up. "You got a message, Kid."

"Really? From who?" Adrien quizzed, sitting up from his silk mattress in curiosity. "What did they say?"

"Hmm...Ladybug texted something about visiting Pigtails tomorrow night."

"'Pigtails'?"

"You know, you're girlfriend?"

"S-She's not my girlfriend, Plagg!" the blond spluttered. "Mari, well, my Princess is with Luka." He glanced down, eyes beginning to become sad.

Plagg sighed. He curled up on Adrien's locks, and started to allow a purr to echo in the boy's ears in an attempt of comfort.

~*~*~

@unholykrow @northernbluetongue @aestheticnpoetic @inno-chan @uwuteamleader @vinebino @stina-2245 @2sunchild2 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @theatreandcomicfreak @alissasmith21 @a-fan-fighting-for-equality @maribat-is-lifeblood @corabeth11 @queenmj10 @smolplantmum @hopetookmysoul @akalovelymaybe @the-navistar-carol @miraculouslycool @bobothyross @geminikessa @damianette-is-life @fandomsarepainful @iamacartoon @tyagressian @soupfilledboots @jewishdumbass @a----rag @ceres-zephyr

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #lukanette #luka couffaine #viperion #viperinette #marichat #mariblanc #chat noir #akumatized chat noir #akumatized adrien #ml salt #class salt #Chloe redemption #Lila sucks #jealous adrien agreste

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

Link

Rating: G

Summary: Side-effects may include: eating fabric, staring into bright lights, and being allergic to mothballs. (AKA, the one where Gabriel Agreste has moth tendencies, and Adrien is rightfully concerned.)

Word Count: 4203

Notes: Mostly inspired by the fact that there's so many Chat Noir cat tendencies fics and even a few Ladybug hibernation fics but WHERE are my Hawkmoth tendencies fics?? Anyway be the change you want to see

For non-english readers in particular since I got a lot of questions when I talked about it on discord: mothballs are little balls of pesticide/deodorant that can be used to repel moths. Usually kept in clothes drawers and are pretty outdated now but anyway its a Real Thing and not me trying to make an innuendo i swear lol

XXX

“Uh… Father?” Adrien peeked in through the cracked door. He shouldn’t—Father valued his privacy more than anything, including his son’s attention—but he couldn’t help it. The brief glance he’d caught was just too weird.

Gabriel snapped to attention, his glasses jostling slightly as he tore his eyes away from the blinding lamp in the center of his desk.

“Adrien.” His candycane-striped tie dropped out of his mouth. The end of it was completely chewn off. Was—did he just swallow that? People couldn’t digest silk, could they? “You’re supposed to be practicing your Chinese.”

“I-I know, I just came down to ask Nathalie—nevermind.” It wasn’t like she or Father were likely to adjust his schedule so he could get ice cream with his friends, especially not when Father was doing… whatever he was doing. “Are you okay?”

“That is no concern of yours,” he snapped. Which wasn’t a yes. Was this some new kind of coping mechanism?

Not for the first time, Adrien wished Father would agree to go to therapy.

“Um… okay. I’ll just—go back to work.”

He dashed back up the stairs before Father could decide that his momentary break should be punished. But still, he couldn’t get the image of the half-chewed tie or Father’s wide-eyed, trancelike stare out of his head.

XXX

“Have you noticed Father acting weird?” He finally got up the nerve to ask Nathalie. “I mean, weirder than usual?”

“I am sure he is just busy as always, Adrien.”

Which was just as much of a brush-off as “that is no concern of yours.” Maybe he should’ve tried a less direct approach, but he couldn’t think of one.

“Has he… been working on a line of flavored fabrics?” He tested one of his wilder theories. It would explain why Father’s tie was patterned like a candy cane, at least. Even Adrien knew that wasn’t in style.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow. “What would give you that idea?”

Somehow he got the feeling that telling Nathalie what he’d seen wasn’t a good idea. But who else could help Father if he was struggling?

“Um… well, he seemed like he was… eating his tie? When I saw him yesterday.”

She sighed, and Adrien swore he heard something like “not again” muttered under her breath. Maybe that was why he usually kept it tucked inside his vest?

“Your Father has developed some… odd habits lately. But I can assure you it is nothing to worry about.”

Father had said the same thing before Mom disappeared. Adrien didn’t stop worrying.

XXX

“I don’t see what the big deal is. So your dad likes to chew on fabric, so what? Not everyone can have excellent taste like me.” Plagg swallowed another wedge of Camembert as if to prove it.

Adrien rolled his eyes and rolled over on the floor, soaking up the warmth of the sunset spilling in through his window.

“Maybe kwamis can eat all sorts of weird stuff, but humans can’t. I just don’t know if this is some kind of coping mechanism, or something. Maybe he’s been avoiding me because he’s acting weird and he doesn’t want anyone to find out.”

It would explain why Father only talked to him through his tablet, more often than not. Maybe he was just embarrassed. But he couldn’t go on like that forever, right? Even if Mom’s disappearance hurt, they were better off leaning on each other than staying apart.

“Hate to break it to you, but your dad’s already weird, kid. Eating ties is probably the best of his qualities.”

Adrien sighed. It wasn’t like Plagg could understand; he just put whatever he wanted in his mouth. Adrien himself could understand a little—ever since becoming Chat Noir, he sometimes had the urge to chew on cords, strings, even some plants. It was a little embarrassing, but he could usually control himself. Maybe if he shouldn’t though. If Father saw him doing it, maybe he’d feel less weird about it himself?

...Or he’d punish Adrien for ruining perfectly good headphone cords. Yeah, that was more likely.

Maybe it wasn’t a big deal, and he should just drop it, but he wanted to do something to help his Father.

“Get him something better to eat?” Plagg suggested when Adrien voiced the thought out loud. “A good aged swiss might do the trick. Just don’t give him my Camembert; he doesn’t deserve it.”

“You’re useless,” he huffed. Maybe the internet would have better advice.

“Eating fabric” just brought up a bunch of articles about sewing machine problems and disobedient pets. Not exactly helpful. But “How to stop my dad from eating fabric” didn’t seem like a useful search entry, either.

Plagg squirmed under his chin, looking up at the phone screen he held over his face. “You think it’s got something to do with bugs?” He asked, pointing to the one search result Adrien’s thumb had been half-covering.

“How to control bugs that eat clothes,” the article was titled. Adrien snorted.

“Unless Father is secretly some kind of moth—”

His jaw snapped shut. No, no, he was not going there again. It had been bad enough when Ladybug suggested it before, and besides, it wasn’t like Father’s actions were any kind of proof.

Even if he had also been staring directly into a lamp, entranced…

“Adrien? Kid, you don’t look so hot. What’s going on?”

He didn’t want to say it. It was stupid, anyway; Father had been akumatized before. He shuddered just remembering it.

But he wasn’t just Adrien Agreste, son of Gabriel Agreste. He was also Chat Noir, Hero of Paris. And it would be irresponsible to drop a lead just because he was scared.

“Do you think… would Hawkmoth have animal tendencies from his miraculous too?”

Plagg’s eyes went wide—wider than they always were, anyway. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Just tell me, Plagg.” He didn’t want to admit what he was saying at all—this was his father, and even if he could be restrictive and controlling, he wasn’t evil.

He was being ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

“Well… yeah. All miraculous users do. Nooroo’s holders have always been weirder though. They tend to be shut-ins. Couldn’t even bribe them out with my best brie.”

“So you haven’t been around a lot of past Hawkmoths?” It was both relieving and disappointing, but it made sense. If Plagg thought Father had the side-effects, he would’ve said something before now. Not that Plagg saw much of Father, considering Adrien didn’t see much of him…

“Nope. They sent out their champions to fight for them most of the time. Not like us who’ve gotta do the real work.”

Adrien snorted. “What work?”

“Hey, protecting you when you take a beating isn’t easy!” Plagg flicked his nose, and he laughed.

“Fair, I guess.” Adrien rolled over onto his stomach as his kwami zipped away. Probably grabbing some Camembert, or a stinky sock to snuggle under.

But to his surprise, Plagg didn’t come back with either of those things. Instead he was carrying something just as smelly—if not worse. A small, round white ball. He was pretty sure he’d seen ones like it in his sweater drawer.

Adrien sat up and covered his nose. “Is that a—mothball?”

“You’re still worried about your dad, right?”

He blinked. It was easy to forget that Plagg could be perceptive when he wanted to be. “I don’t see what mothballs have to do with this.”

“Really. You don’t see what mothballs have to do with telling if someone is Hawkmoth,” he deadpanned.

“You think I should see if Father is… you know… by seeing if he hates mothballs? Do you really think that will work? I thought Hawkmoth had the butterfly miraculous.”

“You’re the one who was worried about it.” Plagg shrugged. “And like I said, the butterfly miraculous is weird. Think there might’ve been something wrong with it even before it was used by a supervillain. Maybe Hawkmoth picked his name for a reason. Anyway, you won’t know unless you try it.”

As far as Plagg’s ideas went, it wasn’t too bad. It didn’t involve cheese, at least. And if Father wasn’t hiding anything, then he wouldn’t be bothered by it, right?

Adrien took the mothball from his kwami’s outstretched paws.

He was going to prove that his Father wasn’t Hawkmoth. And then he’d figure out what to do about the whole eating fabric situation.

XXX

When Nino told him he should push back against Father’s boundaries, Adrien was pretty sure this wasn’t what he meant. Anxiety prickled the hairs on the back of his neck as he paced in front of the bedroom door.

“Come on kid, don’t get cold feet now,” Plagg whispered.

“My feet aren’t cold. I have socks on.” Adrien frowned down at his red-and-black socks. They kept his footsteps quiet and gave him a little boost of confidence. Ladybug wouldn’t be afraid to peek in his father’s room.

“Let’s do it,” he said with newfound determination, and cracked open the door.

Hadn’t Father had a window in here at one point? The sunset should be streaming in right about now, but instead Adrien had to fumble in the pitch black for the lightswitch. When the room illuminated, he blinked in shock.

“Wow.” Plagg whistled. “Your dad is a few wedges short of a wheel for sure.”

That… that was one way to say it. Fabric was scattered across the floor in careless heaps. At one point Adrien would have blamed it on his designing, but if that were the case, the clothes wouldn’t look gnawed on.

“This is worse than I thought, Plagg.” Maybe it was a good thing his kwami had encouraged him to rebel after all. Father seriously needed help. Humans shouldn’t even be able to digest silk and wool! What if he got some kind of disease? What if he already had some kind of disease? That second option was more likely, considering… well, all this.

“So, you gonna drop those mothballs or not?”

“Right.” Adrien snapped out of his thoughts and began digging the white spheres out of his pockets. He’d have to bury them in the chewed up clothes so Father wouldn’t see them. But what if Father did notice? Was it really worth the risk just to ease his mind about Father being Hawkmoth?

...Yes, it was. Especially considering there was no proof Hawkmoth couldn’t akumatize himself. And Father had been the only lead Ladybug had ever had…

He shook his head. Just put the mothballs down, and he could prove his Father was innocent once and for all.

“Alright, let's get out of here. This place is creepy,” Plagg said when Adrien was done.

“I thought you would’ve liked the smell at least,” he tried to joke. Better that than actually thinking about what he was doing.

“I’ll take your stinky socks over this any day.”

Adrien crept out of the bedroom, hoping that this whole endeavor ended up being pointless.

XXX

Father had a cold.

That was what Nathalie said, anyway. Adrien had never actually seen Father sick before. Nothing could keep him away from his work, or from… whatever he did when he was busy ignoring Adrien.

But he heard him wheezing behind his bedroom door, so he really had some kind of illness.

...Or he was allergic to the mothballs. Plagg didn’t say it, but from the pinched look on his face every time Adrien passed by Father’s door, he was definitely thinking it.

“It has to be a coincidence,” Adrien told Plagg, who shrugged.

“Hey, don’t look at me. You’re the one who had the idea that your dad is Hawkmoth in the first place.”

“Technically that was Ladybug,” he mumbled, flopping back on his bed. “Maybe he just got sick from eating all that fabric.”

“Maybe. But didn’t Nathalie say he’s been doing that for a while?”

Dang it, Plagg was right there. It was just so surreal, thinking his father could actually be the supervillain he’d been fighting this whole time.

It was going to take more than therapy to fix this.

XXX

“You think he’s planning something?” Ladybug asked when they lay back on their usual rooftop at the end of their patrol route.

Adrien’s stomach twisted. There’d been no sign of an akuma for two weeks.

Father had been sick for two weeks.

Coincidence. Right?

“Maybe,” he mumbled, his tail twitching fitfully. Then he sat up and shook his head. “Actually, LB…”

“Yeah?” She sat up too, her gaze completely focused on him. While he normally loved to be the center of her attention, right now he wished he had nothing to say.

“Remember when you thought… well, when you thought Gabriel Agreste might be Hawkmoth?”

She startled. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“Well, um… I got a tip from uh… Adrien. You know, Adrien Agreste?”

“Of course I know him, he’s—I-I mean, everyone knows Adrien, right?” For some reason, her face looked pink in the moonlight.

“Right, right. Anyway… he was telling me he was worried about his father, and it’s kind of a long story… but it seems like he might have some… moth tendencies.”

Ladybug blinked. It felt like a long shot, now that he said it out loud. Stupid. He was probably just overreacting.

“What kind of moth tendencies?” She asked, her voice carefully guarded.

“Eating fabric. Staring at bright lights. Being allergic to mothballs.”

“Mothballs?” She laughed. “Sorry, sorry, I believe you. It’s just—wow. And here I thought my wanting to eat bugs was weird.”

“You? Weird? Never,” he joked to relieve some tension. She believed him. She believed him, and that meant that he wasn’t just overreacting. Which meant his father could be Hawkmoth.

He swallowed, trying to hide the hole that seemed to open in the pit of his stomach.

“So… you want to investigate him? Even though he was akumatized?” Her mask furrowed around her brow, the way it tended to when she worked out her lucky charms.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” He sighed and shook his head. “It wouldn’t be easy. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“You—what?”

Oops. Probably shouldn’t have mentioned that.

“It’s no big deal. I just wanted to confirm some things for myself before taking Adrien’s word for it.”

“Adrien would never lie,” Ladybug was quick to say.

His lips quirked upward. “I’m sure he’d be flattered to know you trust him.”

Her accusation of Gabriel before couldn’t have been from any kind of animosity towards him, then. Unless it was animosity on his behalf? Did he know how much his father isolated him? No, she’d have no reason to look that closely behind his model smile.

“So… why did you think Hawkmoth was Mr. Agreste before?” He asked hesitantly. Before she’d said it was a secret, and he hadn’t pressed her, but it seemed an even more serious matter now. “We gave up the lead pretty fast last time.”

“Maybe too fast.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be true anyway… and as for why I thought that… I found a book that I learned belonged to him. If he isn’t Hawkmoth, then it was my fault he became akumatized into the Collector.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s only ever Hawkmoth’s fault, you know that.” Adrien squeezed her shoulder, even as inwardly his mind was racing. Ladybug had found his father’s book when he’d lost it? How? She had been there when Lila had been talking about it; maybe she’d had to double back for some reason? “Wait—you’re telling me that book he was so attached to had something to do with Hawkmoth?”

Adrien had been the one with the book at first. The one she’d seen with it. Why did she trust him so much?

“Yes. Master Fu took pictures of it before I returned it so Adrien—anyway.” She waved her hands, as if all that wasn’t important, even though it definitely was. Father had never mentioned Ladybug returning his book! “Master Fu said the book was lost at the same time as the butterfly and peacock miraculouses. It’s not hard to assume they’d end up in the same place.”

Adrien was glad he wasn’t standing, because he probably would have fallen. “That’s… a pretty big lead.”

“It really is. I should have been more responsible about investigating. Less selfish.”

He had no idea what she meant by that, but the crushed look in her eyes prompted him not to ask.

“If this is true, Adrien’s going to be heartbroken,” she murmured, quietly enough he wasn’t sure he was meant to hear.

She was right about that. But there was no reason for her to feel bad because of it.

“Hey, he’s the one who gave me the tip, remember? Maybe it won’t be such a shock to him.”

Huh. He got all those words out with barely a crack to his voice. Maybe he was in shock.

“Maybe. But he’ll still be crushed. I don’t know if he has any other family, and his mom is gone. As awful as his father is, I just don’t know…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“I don’t know either.”

He hadn’t thought about it. Any time his thoughts danced too close to the implications of his theory, they danced back just as quickly. He had to be brave. Ladybug was counting on him; Paris was counting on him. It didn’t matter if one scared boy lost his father.

“So what… what do we do now?” She asked, voice soft. “We need proof, but I don’t know how to get it.”

Plans were normally her area of expertise. If she didn’t know what to do…

“I don’t know. Get a big lamp and hope it attracts him?” He shouldn’t be joking right now, but it was the only thing distracting him from panicking.

(Nino’s family might take him in. Or there was always the Gorilla. He wasn’t alone, he wouldn’t be alone—)

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Wait, it’s—it’s not?” He blinked.

“No, it isn’t. You’re a clever kitty when you want to be.”

He blushed under her praise and fought off a purr. “Okay, so we draw him out with a big lamp. If Hawkmoth really does have the same kind of side-effects as us, then it should work regardless of whether or not he’s transformed, right?”

“Right. So the only question is how we get a lamp big enough to draw him out.” Her gaze drifted across the rooftops, to the top of the Le Grande Paris hotel. A smirk spread across her face.

“What are you thinking, Bugaboo?”

“I’m thinking I just answered that question.”

XXX

Gabriel jolted back into consciousness when his desk lamp winked out. Impossible—the mansion had its own generator, mostly to keep the city from learning of his underground lair.

The lair. Where Emilie was.

“Nooroo!” He snarled, spitting the end of his tie out as he did. Cursed side-effects; he could hardly go a day without chewing on the silk. At least he could hide the end of it under his vest, which he hadn’t taken off even while in bed. Better not to have Nathalie nagging him about his “habits” again.

“Yes, Master?” His kwami weakly flew out from under his pillow. Whatever illness Gabriel had contracted, Nooroo seemed to mirror. A disconcerting fact, considering how Duusuu and Emilie had felt before her… well.

But he couldn’t take off his miraculous. Not until his work was finished. Unfortunately, with the incessant itching and cough that had plagued him for two weeks, he hadn’t been able to sense much negative emotion beyond his own. He wasn’t sure that he could stand without wheezing and collapsing from dizziness.

That dizziness was clouding his mind already. What was he doing again?

“Emilie,” he rasped.

“What about her, Master?”

“Go see if… no. I need you with me. In case…”

He dissolved into a coughing fit. Nooroo, the pathetic creature, only looked on in sympathy.

“Master, you aren’t well. Perhaps if you removed my miraculous—”

“No!” he snapped, making the kwami flinch. “No. Let’s… investigate the power outage.”

Fire flared across his skin as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. Nooroo still hovered uselessly. It was tempting to transform, but if his sudden illness was related to the miraculous, that would only exacerbate his condition.

One step in front of the other. He would not be bested by this trifling inconvenience, not with Emilie on the line.

He stumbled through the door, bracing himself against the knob with an iron grip. The generator never felt so far away.

“Master, you really should…”

Be quiet! He would’ve shouted, but his voice was little more than a rasp now. Everything spun. Oh, if only Nathalie hadn’t gone home for the night!

Once he made it to the hallway, however, some of the fog cleared. His lungs didn’t feel quite so tight. But there was… something else. A glow that hadn’t been visible from his room. Through the window, like a beacon of warmth and light… Something that pushed against the darkness of his grief and rage…

His legs regained their strength the closer he grew to the light. It involved actually going out through his front door, but that wasn’t so bad, was it? It was near midnight, with barely a buzz of traffic, and… and the light. How could he possibly sense any negative emotions when staring into its blinding fluorescence?

Dully he realized he should be worried about that—he needed those negative emotions if he wanted to save his beloved Emilie—but it was difficult to think beyond navigating the narrow alleyways to follow the bright beacon. How was it still out of reach? He swore it had been just outside his window, a halo of light, with just a few shadows dancing within… shadows in the shape of… some kind of insect…?

Before he could discern the image now glowing against the brick wall, something wrapped around him from behind.

“Gotcha,” a girl’s voice hissed. The string binding him dug into his arms.

“It’s really him,” a boy breathed.

“Or he’s just crazy. We haven’t ruled that out yet.”

“Unhand me at once!” Gabriel shouted—tried to shout. His voice still hadn’t fully recovered. Nooroo was safely hidden in his jacket, and for a moment he considered transforming. Why had he gone out without a bodyguard? He’d made enough enemies even as a civilian; he should’ve known better, but that cursed light—the light that left spots in his eyes as a red-and-black arm reached down to unplug its source.

“Sorry, Mister Agreste. Not until we check you for any mysterious jewelry.”

The girl spun him around, and he came face-to-face with his archnemesis herself. It was difficult to keep the sneer off his face.

“Does the hero of Paris often accost civilians in the street?”

“Only when they show at least three signs of being Hawkbutt,” Chat Noir said from behind her. He wore a sterile smile, one that clashed with the bitter green of his glinting scleras.

Gabriel shuddered. He was just a child. Nothing to be afraid of, even with the power of destruction curled within his ink-black ring.

Even when he apparently knew Gabriel’s identity.

“I’ll be reporting this to the authorities,” he still threatened as he processed the scene. Ladybug and Chat Noir, confronting him in an alleyway with no witnesses. A now-dark spotlight he now recognized as Queen Bee’s signal. A red-and-black cord that must have been the hero’s Lucky Charm

They’d planned this. They knew.

Still, he clung to the hope that they wouldn’t find his miraculous. Not when it was hidden under—

Ladybug tugged his half-eaten tie out from his vest. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. This is...”

She trailed off as her eyes caught the shine of purple beneath the red and white silk. Beside her, Chat Noir froze.

“Nooroo, dark wings—!”

Chat Noir’s claw snagged the brooch before he could complete the phrase. Nooroo zipped back into the miraculous, and Gabriel swore he heard the kwami sigh in relief.

This was… not ideal.

“It is you.” Chat Noir’s hands shook—with rage? Gabriel wouldn’t begrudge him that. He instinctively moved to capitalize on that emotion before remembering he couldn’t akumatize anyone in his current state.

“Chat…?” Ladybug reached out to him, and he turned to bury himself in her arms.

Gabriel thought it might provide an opportunity to squirm free from Ladybug’s string, but her grip on her yo-yo was just as tight as her grip on her partner. He grit his teeth. Surely there was a way out of this! He couldn’t lose to two teenagers over—over chasing a spotlight!

“It’s okay. I’m here,” the girl was consoling him, though the useless hero had barely done anything besides some quick sleight of hand.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s going to be okay.” He sniffled and smiled softly at her. Then his gaze sharpened to steel when he looked back at Gabriel.

“Come on, Father. I hope they have good therapy in jail.”

#fic tag #gabriel agreste has no rights #hawkmoth has no rights #miraculous ladybug #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #adrien agreste #plagg #ladybug #tali writes #crackfic #quality content #please dont take this too seriously lol

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nobodyfamousposts · 5 years

Text

Just Like The Butterfly, I Too Will Awaken In My Own Time Part 2

The first time he saw her, Hawk Moth’s immediate thought had been “butterfly”.

It was impossible, of course, because he held the Butterfly Miraculous.

“Nooroo, what Miraculous does this girl hold?”

“I couldn’t tell you.” Nooroo replied. And this was true, because she didn’t have a Miraculous as far as he knew.

Gabriel frowned but stayed silent, so Nooroo continued.

“There are plenty of other Miraculous in the world. There’s the Bee and the Spider. There may be a Silk Worm out there that I have yet to meet, given her proficiency with those ribbons.” Also true, because there were other Miraculous he knew of and likely many more he didn’t.

Nooroo did not lie. Kwami could not lie to their users, after all. But they could certainly leave out information they felt their user was not ready or fit to know. They could also misdirect. Reply to any questions with plausibility and vague “what ifs” unless commanded to answer directly.

He was rather good at both, as much as he disliked doing so. Sadly, the current situation made such deceptions necessary. To aid his potential rescuer. To protect his current Champion. If it meant doing something he despised in order to lessen the harm he was being forced to inflict, he would choose to do so as the lesser of two evils.

It certainly helped that his wielder was a fool.

As long as he remained cowed, Gabriel did not question him. He volunteered excess information, trying to appear “helpful”. But the information he provided was more than Hawk Moth needed but less than anything that would actually serve any use to him. And of course, the man in his foolishness never looked beyond any of it to realize that for as much as he was being told, he really gained no true answer.

True to this, Gabriel simply nodded and accepted the answer without pressing further. Nooroo felt relieved, but that did nothing to ease his heart.

For all that Nooroo tried to protect his new chosen, nothing could stop the guilt he felt.

The girl was unaware. She wouldn’t know what she was doing—what he was having her do. He was disrupting her life. Turning her into a puppet in a manner so much worse than any of Hawk Moth’s victims.

They at least had a choice.

She was not allowed the same courtesy.

Desperation makes people do strange things. Nooroo hated it.

Still…

It was easier to ask forgiveness than permission.

_________________________

Marinette was scared.

The first time it happened, she thought little of it—at least little more than any other victim of the akuma attack at the time. She simply assumed that she had been hit by whatever the akuma in question was using to control people and was simply relieved that no one was killed and that the damage was kept to a minimum.

The second time was little different. She woke up after the akuma attack in a different place than she’d last remembered being with little idea of what had happened or how she had gotten there. She only found out a few hours after the fact that an akuma had attacked again. She must have been knocked out or made into another of the akuma’s victims, as much as the idea grated on her. But it was the only explanation she had for the strange circumstances, so she accepted it with little trouble.

It was the same with the third time.

And the fourth.

And the fifth.

Truthfully, she didn’t know when exactly she started to notice, but the thing about trends is that they are eventually picked up on. And after so many akuma attacks that she had no memory of and no one who could account for her presence during any of them, Marinette couldn’t help but start to question the oddities.

Because in at least a couple of those instances, she knew she was nowhere near the attack when she lost consciousness. She shrugged it off at first, because it was certainly possible that there had been a stray blast in a couple of those battles that went off course and was able to hit her without her noticing—and wouldn’t that just be her luck?

But she couldn’t deny after a while that there had been a good many attacks and she wasn’t aware of a single one of them. Even her other classmates could at least report on one akuma and where they had been at the time, but she never knew about any of them until it was already over and she suddenly found herself in some random street of Paris in a daze.

She eventually started to realize what was happening, and it didn’t make any sense. She didn’t understand it at first, but sure enough, the conclusion became clear.

She wasn’t the only one who started to pick up on it, either. Her parents have grown increasingly concerned at the state they would find her in at the strangest of times. They were especially upset when they would bunker down during an akuma attack with no idea where their daughter was. She was never with them, and even in the few instances where they had known where should be or when she had even told them specifically where she would be, they were horrified to discover she wasn’t there—not in her room, not at school, not with any of her friends, and completely unreachable. And that this was a constant for every fight, no matter where she should have been at the time?

She was offered sleep aids. Home remedies. Special teas. All manner of suggestions on diet and exercise and techniques. Warnings and alerts. Her parents rearranged their schedule—one of them awake at all times to keep an eye out.

Nothing helped.

Her parents were worried about her.

SHE was worried about her.

She was starting to fall asleep constantly now and she just…couldn’t wake up. And it scared her, because she didn’t know what she was doing or where she’d wake up next. She didn’t even know what she had been dreaming during these times. She kept falling asleep without realizing it and waking up somewhere new with no idea how she got there.

And the more time went on, the more akuma attacks there were, and the more this kept happening, she couldn’t stop the growing fear.

Because what if…what if she was the one behind it all?

Was she…doing something? Was she responsible for this somehow? Was she hurting people?

She didn’t know. And she was so scared.

When her condition became more evident, her parents took her to a doctor.

Falling asleep suddenly was one thing. Sleep walking was another. It shouldn’t have been possible to have both. Yet that was what they found was happening.

“Narcolepsy”, he called it. Like it was just a minor issue to suddenly black out on a regular basis and find herself somewhere else without any memory. With that diagnosis in place, they started to prescribe medications and various remedies—anything to try and mitigate the issue.

Nothing helped.

Her parents were discussing equipping a GPS tracker on her. She wished she could say she was simply embarrassed, but quite frankly, she was too worried to be. Because where was she going? What was she doing? Why was this happening?

She didn’t know.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

And she was so, so scared.

With time, she started to recognize when it was coming. There was a sensation—an unsettling feeling of falling and drowning all in one. Like she was being pulled away somewhere. But when she returned, she didn’t feel like she was fully back, either. It was like…

It was like she lost a piece of herself each time.

And her fear only grew.

With fear comes desperation. And desperation makes people do strange things.

At one point when she started to feel that tell tale drifting sensation, she panicked and barely managed to tie her hand to a nearby pole with some of her crafting ribbon she happened to have on her before she lost consciousness. She woke up several streets away with only a few strands of the ribbon still held in her hand. She wasn’t surprised by the result, but this did give her an idea.

The next time, she was more prepared—both in that she was more aware of the sensation when it was coming and in that she’d made sure to have a belt on her for easy use. She woke up later that evening still in the same room thankfully, but with a bruise around her forearm and a torn belt discarded on the floor in front of a window she was sure had been closed earlier.

During a brief stint of friendship with Sabrina, she’d managed to get a hold of a pair of her father’s handcuffs. She hated herself for both the theft and for taking advantage of the girl in such a way, but she was so scared and getting more and more desperate. Then came the next incident where she successfully handcuffed herself to her own desk at school and prayed that would be enough. But when she next woke up, she was on top of a building with one handcuff still around her wrist and little left of the chain.

She broke down in sobs.

It really was her.

#ml fic #ml sad #ml angst #butterfly marinette #just like the butterfly i too will awaken in my own time #marinette dupain cheng #akuma marinette #akumanette #nooroo #gabriel is a monster #hawk moth is an idiot

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tatticstudio55 · 5 years

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Daenerys as an anti-Cinderella?

Another asoiaf/fairy tales meta

It’s always fun to wonder which fairy tales goes best with which asoiaf characters (especially the girls, for some reason). For Sansa and Arya, the references are overflowing. With Dany it’s… trickier. Only two – or maybe three – classic tales really fit. Two of those I’ve already talked about in previous posts (Thumbelina and The Fire Bird). There are some general “clues” pointing to Cinderella…

-Viserys, the Anastasia & Drizella duo to Daenerys’s Cinderella

-In ADWD, Cleon the “butcher king” of Astapor make a marriage offer to Daenerys and gift her with a pair of slippers, but

Irri slid the slippers onto Dany’s feet. They were gilded leather, decorated with green freshwater pearls. Does the butcher king believe a pair of pretty slippers will win my hand? “King Cleon is most generous. You may thank him for his lovely gift.” Lovely, but made for a child. Dany had small feet, yet the pointed slippers mashed her toes together.

-Cinderella is named as such for her habit of retreating close to the ashes-filled hearth once her work is done (from “cendres”, the French word for “ashes”). Bettelheim view Cinderella’s behavior as a product of sorrow and grief for her dead mother. For Dany, ash is also linked with sorrow and, first inverted trope, with the mother mourning her dead child:

She could feel the heat inside her, a terrible burning in her womb. Her son was tall and proud, with Drogo’s copper skin and her own silver-gold hair, violet eyes shaped like almonds. And he smiled for her and began to lift his hand toward hers, but when he opened his mouth the fire poured out. She saw his heart burning through his chest, and in an instant he was gone, consumed like a moth by a candle, turned to ash. She wept for her child, the promise of a sweet mouth on her breast, but her tears turned to steam as they touched her skin. – Daenerys, AGOT

There’s also the “Queen of ashes” nickname Dany is sometime dubbed with (more so in the show) and the fact that Cinderella herself is a “queen” of the ashes, somewhat (hence why she’s called “Cinderella”).

-Mirri Maz Duur is an inverted fairy godmother to Dany.

But these are details. Overall, Dany comes off as the anti-Cinderella of asoiaf. This becomes especially apparent in ADWD, where she’s, essentially, a glorified slave to her duties who dreams of escapes with her “prince charming”, i.e. Daario. This all reach a culmination point when she goes to the “ball”, i.e., the grand reopening of the Daznak’s pit. Unlike Cinderella, who’d give anything to attend the ball, Dany would give anything to skip it:

“Even if the pits must open, must Your Grace go yourself?” asked Missandei as she was washing the queen’s hair.

[…]

She would rather have drifted in the fragrant pool all day, eating iced fruit off silver trays and dreaming of a house with a red door, but a queen belongs to her people, not to herself. – Daenerys, ADWD

Whereas the ball meant dreams and freedom for Cinderella, for Dany, it’s the perpetuation of a nightmare. They both present themselves at the event under a veil: a literal one for Dany,

“And over it, the long red veils.” The veils would keep the wind from blowing sand into her mouth. And the red will hide any blood spatters. – Daenerys, ADWD

A metaphorical one for Cinderella, garbed so elegantly that her step mother and half sisters don’t recognize her. This idea of disguise is interesting. For a start, it contrasts with Dany’s refusal to put a veil between herself and Astapor in ASOS. To borrow Clapton’s words on Dany’s white garments in the show, the purpose of the veil is to “remove herself (Dany)” from the situation. Dany’s choice of clothes is a mean of non-attendance, while Cinderella’s costume allows her to go incognito and enjoy the moment. There is the contrasts of colors: Cinderella wears an immaculate, pure white dress (at least in the Disney version), whereas Dany wears yellow silk and a blood-colored veil. Finally, in some versions, the ball attended by Cinderella is a masked ball. This could be significant, since the reopening of the pits prove to be its own kind of masked “ball” (and even more so in the show, where the sons of the Harpy creep inside the pits wearing literal masks):

At the base of the Great Pyramid, Ser Barristan awaited them beside an ornate open palanquin, surrounded by Brazen Beasts. Ser Grandfather, Dany thought. Despite his age, he looked tall and handsome in the armor that she’d given him. “I would be happier if you had Unsullied guards about you today, Your Grace,” the old knight said, as Hizdahr went to greet his cousin. “Half of these Brazen Beasts are untried freedmen.” And the other half are Meereenese of doubtful loyalty, he left unsaid. Selmy mistrusted all the Meereenese, even shavepates.

“And untried they shall remain unless we try them.”

“A mask can hide many things, Your Grace. Is the man behind the owl mask the same owl who guarded you yesterday and the day before?

How can we know?”

“How should Meereen ever come to trust the Brazen Beasts if I do not? There are good brave men beneath those masks. I put my life into their hands.” - Daenerys, ADWD

Behind the drum marched Brazen Beasts four abreast. Some carried cudgels, others staves; all wore pleated skirts, leathern sandals, and patchwork cloaks sewn from squares of many colors to echo the many-colored bricks of Meereen. Their masks gleamed in the sun: boars and bulls, hawks and herons, lions and tigers and bears, fork-tongued serpents and hideous basilisks. – Daenerys, ADWD

In fact, some descriptions of the event, when taken by themselves, almost make it sound like there’s an actual ball happening inside the pit:

Across the pit the Graces sat in flowing robes of many colors, clustered around the austere figure of Galazza Galare, who alone amongst them wore the green. – Daenerys, ADWD

We could even dig further: dancing, in asoiaf, is often used as a euphemism for dying, or is used in scenes going heavy on the death-related subtext. What do people do in a ball? They dance. What do people do in the pits? They die.

“Barsena is very quick,” Reznak said. “She will dance with the boar, Magnificence, and slice him when he passes near her. He will be awash in blood before he falls, you shall see.” – Daenerys, ADWD

Cinderella’s ball is a dream and Dany’s “ball” is a nightmare, but both are woken from it, for the twelfth stroke of midnight will lift the charm. Fun fact, if I’m not mistaken, there were twelve fights planned that day: Khrazz, the Spotted Cat, a “Lysene youth with long blond hair”, an elephant, a bull, a mock battle, a folly with dwarfs, Barsena, a folly with old women and “three more matches”, according to Hzdahr… yup, that makes twelve. Each fight is a “stroke of midnight” for Dany, pulling her from the nightmare, urging her to wake up. At Barsena, she snaps. The charm falls, her carriage turns into a pumpkin and her gown into rags:

She lifted her veil and let it flutter away. She took her tokar off as well. The pearls rattled softly against one another as she unwound the silk.

“Khaleesi? ” Irri asked. “What are you doing?”

“Taking off my floppy ears.” – Daenerys, ADWD

In her haste to flee, she loses a shoe:

“Let me go!” Dany twisted from his grasp. The world seemed to slow as she cleared the parapet. When she landed in the pit she lost a sandal. Running, she could feel the sand between her toes, hot and rough. Ser Barristan was calling after her. – Daenerys, ADWD

The aftermath finds her alone in the grass sea, wearing literal rags (again, not unlike Cinderella), in a dream-like state and wondering what just happened. Unlike Cinderella, Dany has no desire to relive the ball and would much rather stay where she is, with her rags and her animal companion. Both girls experience an unpleasant return to reality. Cinderella must go back to being a slave to her step-mother and half-sister, while Dany knows she must go back to Meereen (which doesn’t quite work out, but).

Yet for everything nightmarish about it, the reopening of the fighting pits meant something Dany deeply dreamed for and desired: peace. No more bloodshed in the streets of Meereen. The safety of her people. She wanted it and she got it, until the whole farce blew up in her face and the pit of Daznak turned into a pumpkin. I think that’s when she realized it: that the peace was never real, that Hizdahr’s “peace” was an illusion (as many before me have pointed out), a veil that got lifted with the twelve death blows of the pit.

#daenerys targaryen #asoiaf and fairy tales #asoiaf meta #cinderella

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