Could you write adrienette (or some variation of the love square) with number 75?
~I’m weak for Marichat, so that’s the love square corner we get.~Tay
“Don’t you dare bite me, I’m mad at you!” 899 words
If you asked either Marinette or Chat Noir how it even started, neither would know what to tell you.
Neither would be able to tell when Chat’s occasional visits turned into frequent ones, or when the jokes about him being a stray cat turned into him acting like one when he was around Marinette, but soon, late night cookies and conversation turned into scratches behind Chat’s ears and him nuzzling beneath Marinette’s chin.
“Are you always this touchy—like tactile?” She’s asked one night. They were sitting on the floor of her bedroom, the light of her lamp turning the room orange. “I mean, even when you aren’t Chat Noir?” He thought for a long while before answering.
“No, but I don’t know if the difference has to do with me outside the mask, or with Chat, or if it’s some combination of the two. It’s not that I don’t like touch when I’m not Chat, it’s just… different, I guess? I mean, there’s not many people to get touch from. Home is… I mean, I have my friends at school, but even that is pretty minimal. I think it’s why I like being around you so much. You fit my level of tactile.” He threw her a smile and she contemplated him for a moment before reaching out and scratching his ears.
“Silly kitty, just looking for scratches.”
“Especially if they come from you, Princess.” He leaned into her hand, and soon, they were both laying on the floor, Chat’s head on Marinette’s stomach and her fingers gently combing through his hair. They whispered about school and tv and the ladyblog until it was late at night and Chat’s miraculous began to beep. Chat groaned and Marinette giggled.
“Sounds like it’s time for a certain stray cat to make its way home.” Chat groaned, pressing his head into Marinette’s stomach. It startled a laugh out of her. “Chat, that tickles,” she hissed, pushing at his head with one hand. He slung a hand over her hip and refused to move. “Chat,” she whined. She felt him smile into her belly.
“Yes, Princess?” he purred smugly. She suppressed a giggle.
“Move, you stupid cat, or I’ll have to get you with a water bottle.” He gasped, scandalized.
“You would insult me so? Punishing me like some hand-biting stray?” Marinette snorted around a laugh, and, despite his tone, she could feel Chat’s grin against her pajama shirt.
“Chat, you are some hand biting stray.” He suddenly sat up, and looked down at Marinette, who leaned up on her elbows.
“Princess, you wound me with your words.” He took one of her hands and pulled it to him. He kissed her knuckles gently. “But, if you are to see me as some hand biting stray,” he looked up from her hand to meet her eyes.
“I should at least earn the title.” And with that, he bit the back of her hand. Marinette jerked her hand back with a snort of laughter, but pulled it too far, slamming her elbow into the hardwood floor. She groaned, clutching her elbow and rolling onto her side. Chat slapped a hand over his mouth to smother his laughter while Marinette swore at the floor, rubbing her elbow while trying to keep from laughing. Chat swallowed back his giggles, and reached out to Marinette, tugging her up into a seated position.
“Are you okay, Princess?” He asked. She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Stupid cat,” she muttered. He smiled.
“Want me to kiss it better?” She laughed.
“I don’t trust your mouth,” she said with a smirk.
“Too many teeth.” Chat laughed and pulled her to him in a hug.
“I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to make you hurt yourself.”
“I really will get you with a spray bottle.”
“I could bite you again, you know,” he threatened. Marinette rolled her eyes.
“Don’t you dare bite me, I’m mad at you!” He leaned down and nuzzled under her chin.
“Not too mad, I hope.”
“I don’t know; you bit the hand that feeds you cookies. They specifically say not to do that.” Chat fell backwards in a dramatic swoon.
“Had I known that my chocolate chip cookies would be in danger I never would have bit you!” he cried. Marinette laughed and leaned over him.
“Serves you right, using me for free pats and cookies. And this is the thanks I get.”
“Marinette, you do know I appreciate you, right?” He asked, suddenly earnest.
“Oh, Chat of course. I was just joking, I didn’t mean to—“
“No, I know. I just wanted to make sure. I really do love spending time with you.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back. They looked at each other in the lamplight for a long minute before—
“You should get going, Chaton,” Marinette said as she got to her feet, dusting off her pajama pants and offering Chat a hand.
“Why are you always right,” he asked, allowing her to pull him up. They both went out onto the terrace and Chat perched on the railing.
“Good night, Chat Noir.” Marinette said with a small smile.
“Good night, Marinette,” He responded, smiling in kind. He stood up on the railing and gave her a two-fingered salute, before pulling out his staff and bounding away across the city.
In a turn of events, Paris’s heroes have found out each other’s identities. Chat Noir visits Marinette on her balcony so they can talk through this reveal. Based on the balcony scene rendering that was released.
It was an odd feeling, knowing that the masked cat boy sitting on the railing of her balcony was the classmate she’d been crushing on since the beginning of the year. Marinette wrung her hands together in front of her, trying to straighten out exactly what she was feeling. She was nervous because Chat was Adrien but, at the same time, she felt at ease because Adrien was Chat Noir, the partner she fought beside time and time again.
Testing the Winter Sonata inspired Miraculous AU even though I should be asleep.
Fic Summary: Chat Noir, revealed to be Adrien Agreste, died in a building collapse at the age of seventeen. Twelve years later Marinette, engaged to be married, meets a man who looks exactly like Adrien. But is Felix Agreste really a different person? Or is there something more sinister at work—something that Marinette will do everything in her power to stop, no matter who it hurts?
That morning, Parisians woke up to a blanket of snow.
It was the kind of snow that had just the right consistency to be played in. Citizens flocked outdoors, turning parks into snowball battlefields, snowmen communities, and designated laughter areas. Even those who were inconvenienced by the weather couldn’t help but smile at the infectious happiness of their fellow man.
The snowy Champ de Mars in particular drew a large crowd. Most came to enjoy themselves. Some were there to take photos and videos of the snow-covered Eiffel Tower. And a few had come to see the spectacle of Paris’s resident superheroes, Ladybug and Chat Noir, frolic like children through the trees.
Wedding bells chimed in the distance, as Ladybug and Chat Noir perched on the Eiffel Tower. There had been an Akuma scare, a short while before, which had turned out to be nothing, but it was a weekend, neither superhero had anything planned, so they decided to patrol together for the afternoon.
Chat sighed wistfully, looking out at the city.
“Do you ever think of what your future wedding will be like, my Lady?” He asked.
“I do,” the superheroine answered, looking curiously at the boy. “Do you?”
“Yeah, sometimes.” Chat leaned his elbow on his thigh, so he could rest his chin in his hand. “My father will probably make it a big, public affair.” Chat sighed. “I’d be perfectly happy with a small wedding, if my future spouse wanted one.”
“A big wedding?” Ladybug asked, curious.
“Uh, um yeah, he’s kinda a big deal, so I assume he’d use my wedding to his advantage.” The boy rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.
Ladybug hummed in understanding. “I wouldn’t mind a big wedding.” She decided, looking at Chat.
Chat wasn’t quite sure how to take that statement.
All these AUs where Chat Noir starts coming by the bakery at all hours of the night because he’s a hungry kitty and also might be in love with a certain baker’s daughter but where’s the AU where Chat Noir’s been out all night and just needs something to eat so he’s passing by Marinette’s bakery and thinks he’ll just grab some day-old bread and pay them back later but he forgets that bakers are up at four in the morning so instead of sneaking quietly into the bakery he gets caught - by TOM. But Tom gives him some cheese bread and is totally chill about it - no charge, not for one of the heroes of Paris, really, he insists - and so next time it happens, Chat figures, why not? Tom’s up rolling out dough when he hears a tap on the window and a tired but grinning Chat is crouched outside. And then one time it’s a little TOO middle of the night, and Tom is still asleep, so Chat curls up and falls asleep on the doorstep because it seems weird to try and sneak in through a window now that Tom knows he comes by. Tom shakes him awake when he finds him an hour later and he realizes with horror he’s got barely minutes left on his transformation and scampers off before Tom can get any food in the poor boy.
After that Tom takes to leaving out a little package for Chat each night of whatever didn’t sell in the bakery that day. Sometimes the packages are gone, sometimes they’re not, and sometimes Tom comes down in the morning to find Chat eagerly munching away on a leftover croissant. They’ll chat - about Paris, about video games, which they discover are a common interest (”You should see my daughter play,” Tom boasts, and Chat grins in his teasing fashion, but thinks fondly of a little good luck charm he keeps tucked in his pocket. “I bet she’s amazing,” he replies). One time Tom turns around from the oven to find Chat perched precariously on a counter and peering over his shoulder, and is happy to explain what he’s doing. He talks to Chat about dough and butter and baking and how to time everything just right. Chat talks about Ladybug and sighs over his amazing partner. Tom chuckles and smiles sympathetically and offers stories of setting the kitchen on fire trying to impress his new girlfriend Sabine, whose uncle is a world famous chef, and his miserable first attempts at learning Chinese when she already spoke four languages.
Whenever there’s been an especially vicious akuma attack, he’ll quietly set aside a couple macarons, or a little tart, as a special treat. In January there’s a cold snap and there’s news footage of the two superheroes battling their way against an icy akuma, shivering in their skintight suits. The next night, there’s an entire galette du roi waiting on the windowsill.
And this goes on for MONTHS. No one else knows. Chat’s never still there by the time Sabine and Marinette get up, and Tom never mentions it. Adrien has mysteriously developed a sudden interest in baking and Alya is going to MURDER Marinette if she doesn’t take advantage of it.
Until one night they’ve been battling an akuma since before dinner, transformations on again and off again with barely a few minutes of rest, and they’re both tired as can be but neither of them has really eaten in nearly fourteen hours and they are so HUNGRY. So Chat hesitantly says, hey Ladybug, I know a place, the guy’s really nice, he’s been leaving something out for me to eat for a while now. We’ve both still got enough time to swing by. Ladybug is too hungry to argue and too tired to think about explaining to her dad why she’s sneaking into the kitchen at four in the morning, so she just follows. Until she realizes that Chat is leading her RIGHT TO HER OWN BAKERY and Tom is opening the door to greet them with open arms, saying how he’d seen they’d only just defeated the akuma not half an hour ago and he thought Chat might be by, and he’s brought Ladybug too, this is an honor! Is she going to start coming along regularly now too? he asks with a sly grin in Chat’s direction. Marinette couldn’t possibly go redder in the face if Adrien were naked in front of her.
I was the moana reference one :P "What can i say except you're welcome?"
“What can i say except you’re welcome?” Chat sang in a sing-songy tone as he jumped across the rooftops of Paris. Sure he was now running a little late for his patrol, but it wasn’t like Ladybug would know anyways, tonight was his night only. So he enjoyed the freedom, happily singing along to the songs now stuck in his head.
“For the tides, the sun, the sky. Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, You’re welcome! I’m just an ordinary Cat-guy~” The black leather suited cat sang with gusto, since most of the words ended up swept away by the winds anyhow, no one would hear it if he switched up a word or two anyways.
With the song firmly stuck in his head, and by no means paying attention to where he was going or what he was doing, Chat Noir ended up sailing rather close to a certain friendly baker’s home when a familiar song and voice caught him. He almost didn’t hear it, but there was no mistaking that pitch perfect melody that quickly ensnared him from his current course to creep ever closer.
“I’ve been standing at the edge of the water ‘long as I can remember, never really knowing why.” She stood on the balcony, moonlight reflecting a rich deep ocean blue in her hair as shocking electric blue danced with her gaze from one plant to the next. She must have been watering them, a spray bottle in hand as she spun between each.
“I wish I could be the perfect daughter but I come back to the water, no matter how hard I try…” Chat Noir found himself perched on the back chimney, leaning around the other to get a look at the girl who’s voice was stealing his will to breath straight. Had she… had she always been so breathtaking in the moonlight? The only time he’d ever seen her at night was when he was after Evilistrator, but he hadn’t the time or attention to really look at the girl.
“Every turn I take, every trail I track, every path I make, every road leads back, to the place I know, where I can not go, though I long to be!” As each word flew free form the bluenette’s soft lips, her confidence seemed to grow, shifting from that quaking, stuttering petite girl to an almost unrecognisable warrior, ready to take on the world.
See the line where the sky meets the sea it calls meeeee, and no one knoooows, how far it goooooes! If the wind in my sail on the sea stays behind meeee, one day I’ll knoooow, if I go there’s just no telling how far I’ll go!” Chat could feel himself practically slipping off the chimney as she sang, like a magnet to his heart. She held herself so brave and strong, then she did that thing. When the last part of the song struck, Marinette certainly went pretty far. She struck an unmistakably Ladybug pose to emphasize the song, and Chat felt a sudden BOOM in his chest.
Oh, oh no, no no no no this couldn’t be.
A tile slipped loose from the roof, crashing faintly down below. Marinette’s singing stopped as the bottle dropped from her hand in surprise. Spinning on the balls of her heels, she turned her gaze onto the roof, to see nothing but the night sky and the stars looking back.
Hiding behind the chimney, was a black cat just out of sight, clutching at his heart as it screamed at him for something he should not want.
You wanted the date right?
Well OOPS YOU GOT AFTER THE DATE INSTEAD!
Send me a sentence and i’ll write a story in 5 sentences (Or more. probably more cause i cannot control how much i actually write)
a/n: i’m… not going to lie, i’ve never actually considered ace-Mari. i always put that possibility on Adrien. but considering the, uh, sexual nature of the ship that some people take with it, this’ll be an interesting subversion. thanks for the prompt. ^_^ (and for clarification: yes. Marinette and Chat Noir are dating in this story.)
“Here again, kitty? Maybe I should start charging you for lodging…”
And thus, it began again.
The frequent visits to her balcony had surprised Marinette at first–after all, how does one explain that two sides of the same coin have attracted one side of a magnet?–but for Chat Noir, she knew she was more than a mere curiosity. It had started when he became worried about the aftermath of the Evillustrator, popping by when she had just allowed the mask of Ladybug to fade away into Marinette, and it had transpired from there.
Now, it had become a regular thing to prepare two mugs of cocoa, sitting out in the twilight air and watching the skies turn pink with dusk. Chat Noir perched on the railings, and herself sat crossed-legged on the ground.
“…hey, Chat? Can I ask you a question?”
“Depends on what, but I’ll hear you out.”
Marinette only flicked his shoulder, but immediately drew in on herself afterwards–the lack of confidence not going unnoticed by Chat, who placed a hand on her shoulder afterwards. If there was anyone she could trust to be honest with her, it was Chat Noir.
She took a breath. “…You’re a guy.”
He blinked, obviously taken aback. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Sorry, I’ll stop with the teasing, Princess. What’s wrong?”
Marinette drew her knees close to her, resting her chin on them. “You know the common saying, “guys are only after one thing”, right? I don’t agree with it, not really, but… well, not all people are into that kind of stuff, right?”
“I… am not really an expert in that field, but everyone is different, I suppose?” Chat Noir sighed, though she could see the red flush just shy of the borders of the mask. “Mari, where is this leading to? Has… someone tried to pressure you to do something you don’t want to do?”
She couldn’t help but smile. It was clear this hadn’t been on that agenda of his tonight. Still, the nerves thump against the cage that guards her heart.
“No, it’s… nothing like that. Well, maybe.” Time to get it out. “But in the future, I might pressure myself to do something I don’t want to do.”
“I don’t… understand.”
Wringing her hands together, the shakes began. “How long have we been… y’know. Doing this? The midnight meet-ups? There’s… a lot of expectations that come with that, right? But I don’t… want to go all the way with them. Ever.”
One, two, three: it clocks. “…You’re on about… oh. I see. Oh.”
There was a red flush that caused his skin to glow somewhat, but no embarrassment. Sighing again, he placed a hand on her back. “You know there’s nothing wrong with that, right?”
Marinette faltered, not saying a word.
“Mari…” With a fond chuckle, Chat scooped her up into a warm hug. “Whatever you are, whatever you want to do with people–or in your case, what you don’t want to do–is your business. If people are more ready to accept that there can be giant oozing monsters and a person who dresses up like a freaking cat that fights them over not wanting to ever be intimate with someone like that, then that’s their problem. Alright? There’s nothing wrong with it. Ever.”
MariChat Week is over! ;O; It’s been a blast writing for my first love in this ridiculous square. Thank y’all for reading. *salutes* Also, have I mentioned I’m dying for a Christmas episode? MariChat Week Day 7: Purring.
He came to her in the early morning hours, after the mass and the dinner had wrapped up and the Parisians who weren’t going to party until dawn had gone to bed. Though the night was pitch black and overcast, the streets below were illuminated. He found Marinette staring dreamily out her window at the colorful tree in front of Notre Dame.
“Shame on you, Marinette. How is Père Noël expected to bring you anything if you don’t go to sleep?”
Marinette looked up at Chat, who had perched on her bed and grinned down at her from the loft. “He brought me you, didn’t he?”
Can Jamie and Claire act like love sick teenagers and go on a cute date that ends in skinny dipping or some other fairly public shenanigans?
The baggage trolley rattled as Claire pushed it across the shiny airport floor, its left wheel clicking against the broken mechanism that held it staunchly in place.
“…and you are going to get on with poor Jamie this time, aren’t you my darling?” Her mother crooned, kissing her forehead as she steered them all towards the check-in desk..
Rolling her eyes, Claire turned from her parents, waiting until her tell-tale blush had subsided before twisting back round, a large fake smile plastered across her face.
“Of course, mum.”
Recalling their last encounter, Claire felt almost ashamed.
Hate was the wrong word, of course. And she hadn’t meant to give the poor boy a black eye *or* gripe at him for most of the break, but, she had.
The actual reason for her clumsiness and general distemper was of quite obvious to those looking clearly at the situation.
Claire Beauchamp was in love.
Her parents had been taking easter getaways and summer holidays with the Fraser’s for years, and Jamie and Claire were well acquainted. But since the family move when the pair were just fifteen, the bi-annual Beauchamp/Fraser trip had been postponed.
Since they’d re-ignited this tradition, the previous year, Jenny and William, the oldest Frasers had gone to university and no longer required her parents for vacations.
Claire and Jamie had been left to their own devices for much of the trip. The tall Scot had been friendly, as always, but his ever present jolly attitude, twinned with his glorious baby-blue eyes had Claire’s stomach in constant knots.
Sitting in the departure lounge, she mused over their final few days together. She had so desperately wished for him to kiss her. But being a blissfully ignorant, seventeen year old male, Jamie had been unaware of Claire’s unspoken desires.
Instead, Claire had slipped as she’d fumbled over the wet rocks on the beach, her humiliating attempts at flirting going unnoticed. Falling backwards, she had thrown her elbow out in attempt at re-centring herself, catching Jamie unawares and landing him with a very large bruise that ran over his eye and down his cheek.
But that was last year, Claire reminded herself, shaking off the memories. This year would be different. No longer would she fawn over him like a lovesick teenager. No, her last year at college had taught her (if nothing else) that boys were *not* to be trust, and Jamie Fraser would be no different.
As the final boarding call rang out over the tannoy, Julia tapped her daydreaming daughter on the shoulder, grabbing her carry-on bag as she nodded her head towards the gate.
“Time to go, Claire. Don’t worry,” Julia whispered, wrapping Claire in a tight hug as they followed behind Henry, down onto the tarmac, “you don’t have to spend time with anyone you don’t wish too.”
Tapping his foot against the beautiful marble stonework of his hotel room, Jamie sat and waited. His parents, too excited at the arrival of their friends, had rushed off to greet Julia, Henry and Claire as they’d arrived on the complex.
But he had stayed away.
He knew now, rather belatedly as his father had so accurately pointed out, that now-not-so-wee-Claire Beauchamp had felt an undercurrent of *ardor* for him.
Alas, by the time Brian had enlightened his son on the mysterious machinations of a young girl’s mind, the Beauchamp’s had departed and Jamie had been abandoned, bruised face and all.
This year, he reasoned, it would be different.
His heart raced at the thought of seeing Claire once more.
At fifteen she had been medium height, very skinny with large sea-blue eyes. Not uncommon to many other girls he attended school with.
But at seventeen, the year previous, she had been a tall statuesque beauty.
Something to be noticed for sure. She was captivating, alluring and coquettish but quick and intelligent with it.
It was fair to say Jamie had fallen head over heels for the lass. But, even as a young man with fresh blood running through his veins, he was determined to be a gentleman.
By the end of their holiday, though, Jamie had been forced to walk away, a broken heart and a black eye to boot.
The key clicked in the lock as Brian and Ellen entered the small single room, twin smiles plastered over their faces.
“Are ye ready, laddie? Henry and the ladies are going to meet us by the pool if ye wish to join us,” Brian asked, a cheeky twinkle in his eye as he ruffled his son’s thick red hair. “I think they’d like to see you again, since ye were determined to hide awa’ here just the now!” He quipped, laughter in his voice as he grabbed Jamie’s towel for him.
As the Fraser’s left their rooms, Ellen grasped hold of Jamie’s hand, holding him back as Brian marched on ahead.
“Jamie, my boy, I ken how ye feel fer the lassie, and I ken how she felt for you before we left the last time,” she began, a hint of warning in her tone. Jamie’s heart skipped a beat and then picked up pace as he felt a small shudder roll down his spine at his mother’s words. “But go easy on her to start wi’. Her mam says she’s had a tough year.”
The ding of the lift pulled him from his thoughts as he squashed inside the small cart with a number of other guests on their way down, his palms sweating as the heat built in the small space.
*A tough year*, what did that mean, he pondered, his mind debating all manner of dark possibilities.
Whatever had occurred, back in England, he thought, he would still treat her as he would have without the warning.
A wave of heat hit Claire as she stepped from the air-conditioned safety of the hotel lobby out onto the scorching terrace. The poolside was lined with empty sunloungers, perfectly placed for her to enjoy a cool breeze off the water as she read her books.
No longer trapped in the chilled British spring, Claire threw off her flip flops and bent to take them in her free hand, scooping them between her fingers as she enjoyed the warmth of the patio tiles as it soaked through her soles.
“Good morning Claire,” came a voice from behind her.
Startled, Claire jumped as she turned, knowing immediately who the deep Scots burr belonged to.
“Good morning, Jamie,” she returned, licking her lips as she held her flimsy sandals to her chest, her book wedged neatly under her other arm as she twisted her elbow to keep it solidly in place. “How have you been?” The question came out with a tentative edge, making Claire feel even more awkward.
“I’ve been well, thank ye. We missed you yesterday,” Jamie replied, tipping his head to the left as he twisted his towel between his fingers.
Claire’s lips twitched into a small smile at his coyness. She hadn’t wanted to be part of the welcoming committee on their first day, and so had opted to stay in her room for the afternoon leaving Jamie alone with the adults.
Still as endearing as ever, Jamie Fraser was growing more and more handsome by the day. Butterflies swam in her tummy as they stood in comfortable silence, the soft swish of the pool water sloshing against the sides of its large basin reverberated around them as Jamie stepped closer.
Claire focused on the soft slap of his shoes against the terracotta bricks of the small porch, letting his calm aura surround her so as not to overwhelm her as he tapped his feet, his body obviously filled with nerves. His close proximity once would have caused her heart to race in desire. Only a year ago she’d wished for this more than anything else. Now, she’d have happily turned on her heel and darted away.
After her last stunt, though, she was more aware of her ability to injure Jamie in the heat of the moment. Helpfully, that stunted her need to flee.
“Yer mam said…” Jamie began, noting her suddenly closed off body language. She didn’t even seem aware of how hunched her shoulders had become but it had only made Jamie more desirous of making her comfortable. “Weel, she said ye’d seen some trouble last year. I dinna mean to pry…but are ye no’ well?”
Sighing, Claire flicked her head towards the beach at the bottom of the hotel pool. Being as early as it was, very few people lined the shores leaving it looking fairly empty.
“I’m not sick, Jamie. Would you like to find somewhere to sit? We can chat, if you like…”
Perching themselves on the sunbeds closest to the entrance to the public beach, Jamie and Claire sat side by side.
“You know, don’t you?” She began again, her cheeks flaming as she watched the recognition light behind Jamie’s eyes.
“Aye, da told me. Ye must think me daft, eh?”
“No,” she returned, quickly, “I don’t, not at all. But my mum was right with what she told you. This year,” pausing, Claire took a rather large breath, her fingers drumming relentlessly against the hardback cover of her novel, “was rough.”
“Ye dinna need to tell me anything, Claire.” Jamie said, the softness in his tone causing Claire’s taut muscles to loosen slightly, “but I like ye, too. And I’m willing to treat ye well. Willing to wait for ye to be ready for anything, or nothing should ye just need a friend, aye?”
Smiling shyly, Claire curled a loose lock of her hair around her finger, twisting the few strands of golden brown over and over as she let his words sink in.
*He liked her.*
“Friends?” She broached, the lilt of her voice hinting at something more as she looked over at him, their knees almost touching as the sun rose above them.
“Friends…” he replied, a gentle hush on the mediterranean breeze, “aye, Claire.”
Marinette looked around the dimly lit room one last time. The music blared and people were visibly shouting over it. Beer pong had been set up on one side of the room. A typical party. People were messily dancing around, bodies pushed up against Marinette’s side, and she shrugged them off. She normally enjoyed partying and drinking, but tonight, she had one thing in mind. Nino was standing by the speakers distracted, bobbing to the beat. Marinette stepped up on her toes to look over unfamiliar heads to find Alya still drunkenly debating with Max, Kim and Alix. They waved their arms around, the conversation clearly getting heated until Alix burst out laughing.
The word of the party had gone out, and more than just the Collège Françoise Dupont class had shown up at Alix’s; not that Marinette particularly minded. The more people there was, the easier it was sneak upstairs. She checked the time on her phone, before looking at Alya one last time. She felt Tikki pat her in cardigan pocket, and Marinette twisted through the crowd. She placed her iced tea on a passing table before she glanced back, and went up the dark stairway.
She grabbed her coat from the mountain piled on the couch in the living room, and attempted to quickly slip her shoes on. Why did I wear these stupid things…? Marinette swore as she laced them. Her ears were ringing from the loud music that was now muffled under the floor.
Suddenly, she could hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and Marinette snapped back up, her eyes widened. The murmuring voices sounded like Alya and Rose. Panicked, Marinette carefully rushed down the hall to the back kitchen door, hurrying on the ball of her feet to prevent her heeled boots from clicking on the white tiles. She looked ridiculous. Alya and Rose’s voices were now clear, as they pondered over which pizza to order. Marinette held her breath and she opened the door with a soft push. The door let out a fancy alarm chime, and Marinette’s blood ran cold. She froze, and her jaw tensed up immediately. She felt herself get hot. Sneaking out during a party was way harder than Marinette thought it should be. She knew that if she got caught, Alya would not let her out of her sight.
So, here’s some Christmas-themed, indulgent DJNoir. Hope you’ve all had a wonderful day! :)
“I don’t want a lot for
Nino frowned, gently tugging off
“There is just one thing I
Was the song coming from outside?
“I don’t care about the
Definitely outside. He scrambled
to his feet and ran over to his balcony doors.
“Underneath the Christmas
He tugged the door open, shivering
at the sudden rush of cold, and peered out into the cold night.
“I just want you for my
Chat Noir sat, perched on the
railing of his balcony with a small set of speakers that resembled a boombox
straight out of a movie scene.
“More than you could ever
He grinned and winked, holding the
speaker over his head while Nino chuckled and stepped out into the cold.
“Make my wish come
Their eyes met, and Chat Noir sang
along dramatically, “All I want for Christmas is you.”
Nino smiled and reached over to
take the speaker out of Chat Noir’s hands, setting them aside and turning it
down to a more respectful volume. “It’s midnight. You probably woke up the
“It’s Christmas. They’ll
Nino shook his head. “I
thought you wanted to be discreet.”
“I was lonely.”
Nino paused. While Chat Noir had
been all grins and teasing, holding up his speaker and singing along to Mariah
Carey, now that Nino was paying attention, he could see the tension in his
shoulders and the small frown tugging at the corners of his lips.
Well, that just wouldn’t do.
Nino extended a hand, and Chat
Noir glanced down at it before slowly taking it in his. Nino tugged him off the
railing and hugged him. “Well, good thing you came here, then.”
Chat Noir melted into the contact,
almost purring in Nino’s hold. “Yeah.” He smiled. “Me,
“You wanna come in?”
Nino asked, leaning back enough to look at him. “I could make hot chocolate.”
He brightened. “Really?”
“Yeah, maybe even a couple
Chat Noir pressed a light kiss to
his cheek. “Have I told you you’re the purrfect boyfriend?”
Nino chuckled. “Maybe, but it
doesn’t hurt to hear it again.”
They stepped inside after Chat
Noir gathered up his speaker and switched off the music, Nino closing the door
behind them to keep out the cold.
Chat Noir settled on the bed and
relaxed as Nino went downstairs to rummage around in the kitchen for hot
chocolate supplies. He grabbed a napkin with a few cookies as he heated up the
drinks. The process took a good ten or fifteen minutes, and part of him
regretted leaving Chat Noir alone without something to keep him occupied. Well,
knowing him, he’d probably spend the time peeking to see if Nino had updated
his movie collection yet.
Nino carefully balanced the
cookies on top of one mug and carried them upstairs, careful not to disturb his
“Hey, I found a couple
cookies, but the hot chocolate probably needs to cool down a little…”
He paused, staring down at Chat
Noir who was now sound asleep and sprawled out on Nino’s bed. Nino smiled down
at him. He set the mugs down on his desk and sat beside Chat Noir.
The tension he’d carried in with
him was gone now, leaving Chat Noir peaceful and unusually quiet. Nino took a
small amount of pride in the fact that, regardless of how upset Chat Noir was
when he arrived, he always left happy and relaxed.
“Wasn’t expecting you to fall
asleep, dude.” Nino chuckled, shaking his head. “You could probably
use it, though. Way too many akuma lately.” A soft sigh, then Nino stood
and grabbed a blanket out of his closet. He laid it over Chat Noir and sat at
Better to let him sleep for a bit.
Chat Noir woke up a few hours
later, bleary-eyed and confused. He sat up, rubbing his eyes through his mask
and looking around. Nino was asleep at his desk, a video from the Ladyblog
playing on his computer. He checked the time and frowned. He must have fallen
asleep and Nino… Nino just let him.
He sighed and gently scooped Nino
up to lay him in bed. “You’re too nice sometimes. I came over to spend
time with you and you let me fall asleep on your bed…” He shook his head
and tucked the blanket over him, gently removing Nino’s glasses and setting
them on the desk beside his bed. “You really are amazing.”
When Nino woke up in the morning,
he found a note on his desk. “Merry Christmas! Thanks for the
cookies!” signed with a small pawprint.
summary: “You mean more to me than you’ll ever know. So how can I take the chance that I’ll lose that? What would I do if you know who I am underneath the mask doesn’t match up to how you think of Ladybug?” - Ladybug confesses her fears, Marinette spreads her wings, and the stage is under a canopy of stars winking down at them. a/n: Oh look. A reveal fic. Because that’s never been done by anyone before. ^_^ Hope you enjoy!
Whisked away by the lull of Parisian nights, they leapt through the cobblestone streets and across the arched rooftops with a wild, reckless abandon. Not without rhyme or reason, of course, for the two of them were the eyes in the shadows, the angels in the skies that protected people from the literal nightmares. However, the way of good intentions came from youthful rebellion crafted and mended together with a welding purpose or cause.
This particular night started as a race, then a gamble on each other’s pride. Hopping from point-a to stretch-b, surprising the other within the nooks and crannies of the streets with no names. The names blended together and splattered a new identity with mannerisms and characteristics, and Ladybug honestly couldn’t tell the difference without the smells or looks anymore.
Eventually, they reached a respite. Chat Noir perched, concealed within a shadowed part of the Eiffel Tower’s infrastructure, whilst she took a step out into the city of light, and basked in the gentle hum of the cars below.
“Are you tiring yet, my Lady? I think you should rest a while, even allow me the pleasure of carrying you. Maybe good luck doesn’t extend to natural talent after all?”
She turned to see that familiar smirk playing on those lips, and folded her arms. “You are sweet to offer, Chat. But they say cats are tricky to reveal the truth, and you’ve never laid anything out without there being another meaning. Perhaps it’s you that’s tired?”
A laugh escaped her lips, and their banter ends on a high.
Ladybug sighed as she sat down, dangling her legs in the open air. The cityscape breezes whistled around her feet, urging her to retreat to the safety of the inside, but she had never been one to listen to nature.
“It’s… been over a year now, hasn’t it?”
“Mm.” His gentle hum grew louder as he took a seat beside her.
Ladybug folded her hands in her lap. “Do you think we’re any closer to finding where these attacks are coming from? So we can…”
Ah! I’m so glad I got this done in time!!!!! I did this for the @miraculous-valentine-exchange and I had never written for TML so I was nervous. Anyway, this is for @adj I’m your secret Valentine! I really like your blog and I love the stuff you reblog and yeah! I hope you like it. I’m a bit rusty after all!
Anyway, I hope everyone has a great Valentines Day! The song featured is The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra (it’s the best song ever so listen to it!!!!)
Marinette has always loved Valentines Day, she loved showing her friends that she cared and loved them. She always had fun helping her family cook the famous treats to be sold.
Yet, since it was so busy with how many orders that were needed and in coming customers. Marinette never really did go out for Valentines Day that much. She preferred helping her family. After all, her own parents wouldn’t be able to go on their own Valentine’s Day date until the next day. But, Marinette was sure her dad always had something special planned.
Marinette was glad that only one Akuma attack happened this year. After all, Valentines Day was probably one of the biggest targets for people to infected. They were almost out left and right the year before. It also was day… well… the identities were uncovered. But, that’s a different story.
It was 11 when they finally closed the shop, 11:30 when they finally stopped having re-open and re-close it. So, like every year she stumbled into her room. It felt so nice to actually lay down.
“Well, there goes all my dreams, hopes, and expectations.” She heard someone say smugly. She slightly smiled at the voice and sat up to see Chat Noir perched on the lining of the balcony.
Marinette slowly got up from her bed, and went up to the balcony.
“Look what the kitty dragged in.” She said tiredly.
Chat smiled and came to stand in front of her. His height slightly over her own. She could smell his scent of what she liked to call “sweating dignity” meaning, he was nervous.
“Did you know that we live in the city of love My Lady?” Chat asked.
“According to the many tourist who came in today. Yes, that’s what I hear.” Marinette said.
“Do you believe that to be true?” Chat asked with a grin starting to form.
“Maybe…” Marinette said stepping closer to the super hero.
Chat came over closer and bent so his mouth was right next to her ear. Tickling her with his warm breath.
“Then,” he said, “let me prove it to you.”
He then grabbed her around the waist and suddenly they were in the air only hanging onto his rod. Marinette, caught by surprise hooks her arms around his neck.
“Don’t be afraid, My Lady.” Chat said. The stick starting to bend to touch the next building. Their feet touch the ground as Chat suddenly is not in his normal skin tight costume. But in a nice black suit with a bow tie that matched his eyes and the tux’s back almost reaching the ground. His mask almost shining clearer in the night.
“My Lady, may I have this dance?” He asked almost nervously.
Marinette laughed, “How did you manage to pull this off?” She asked.
“I told you that Plagg would do anything for cheese and I meant it. Tikki, agreed as well, as long as we give her and Plagg a little alone time tomorrow.” He said as Tikki flew up from behind him.
“Aw, and I want you to have fun tonight as well.” Tikki said.
Marinette smiled, “Of course you’ll have time with Plagg tomorrow. I promise.”
“Thanks Mari, now, are you ready?”
“Yes! Transform, Ladybug!”
The dress is a heart shaped with the bottom half of the dress covered with black dots. Gloves covered her hands that matched her dress. And a black sash that tied around the dress tied into the bow with the ends as long as Chat Noir’s tux.
She then looked to see Chat Noir with his loving gaze. He offered his hand, which she gladly took. Then she heard words come out of his mouth in song.
“Some day, when I’m awfully low.” He grabbed her close and rocked back softly back and forth.
“When the world is cold I will feel a glow just thinking of you and the way you look tonight.” He then turned her as they leaped to the next building. Marinette let out a gasp.
“Yes, you’re lovely, with your smile so warm.” Chat sang smugly to her as she glared playfully at him as they began to waltz.
“And your cheeks so soft,” he nuzzled against her cheek softly lovingly. “There is nothing for me but to love you and the way you look tonight.”
She watches her footing as they leap across to another building. But Chat Noir lifts her head by his fingers to his eyes.
“With each word your tenderness grows tearin’ my fear apart.” He spins her lovingly as she laughs, then dips her. “And that laugh.. wrinkles your nose, touches my foolish heart.” His kisses her nose as they come up to only just continue to dance. Across buildings never watching their step.
“Lovely … Never, never change.” Marinette shakes her head with a grin. As Chat puts a face to her cheek. “Keep that breathless charm. Won’t you please arrange it? ‘Cause I love you. Just the way you look tonight.” The instruments continue as they danced. Eyes never looking anywhere else. Until she feels like she on the ground. She looks to see the beautiful Eiffel Tower right above her. Then turns back to Chat as he continues.
“And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart.” He reached to her side to take her weapon with a wink. As he easily latched to the top. Slowly pulling to the top, he continued.
“Lovely … Don’t you ever change, keep that breathless charm. Won’t you please arrange it?” He then pulled them both to the very point. Both easily keeping their balance. Both more closer than before.
“'Cause I love you just the way you look tonight.” Chat let go of their position to hold her hand. Entangling it in his own.
“Mm, Mm, Mm, Mm, just the way you look… tonight.” She grabbed his face as she kissed him passionately. Holding both sides of his face. He went to her waist to pull each other so close that it seemed like one other could stand right next to them.
“I love you Adrian.” She said as she transformed back.
He blushed with the use of his own name. As well transforming back.
Ok. Here it is. The beginning of the crackiest of crack fics I have written since “the exploits of the FABULOUS Draco Malfoy”
Quick summary- In a highly unlikely future in which a new foe has lead to a truce between our heroes and their arch nemisis Hawkmoth, our semi- reformed villain has agreed to a community service rehabilitation work program.
This might have been the most insufferable press conference he had ever participated in, and that was certainly saying something.
The press had turned up in droves of course, anxious to see the first public display of the city’s notorious ex-villain. A decent sized crowd of civilians had chosen to attend as well, though, unsurprisingly, many had chosen instead to watch the televised rendition from the relative safety of their homes.
The meticulously rehearsed apology speech had gone well enough, with enough verbal groveling and implied tragic backstory to ensure a good reception. The proposed “rehabilitation initiative” they had been pushing for the last several weeks also seemed to be winning over the public, if the crowd reactions thus far were any indication.
He had not, however, counted on Andre Bourgeois inserting his own lengthy speech into the mix.
The insipid man had been droning on for the last hour about the “tireless effort” that he and his associates had made to bring about this reconciliation.
As if the grossly incompetent politician and his police squad of bread eating layabouts had contributed to anything in the past 2 years.
The only reason he was here was because he had voluntarily chosen to ally with the teen heroes in light of current circumstances.
God knows the pair of super powered vigilantes had more to do with the reduced crime rate in the city than anything Andre’s stooges had ever done.
Hell the two children had even managed to pull of a more eloquent press conference speech than the narcissistic mayor when they had originally announced the arranged truce last month.
Not to mention that the entire rehabilitation initiative, as anyone who could read could tell you, was spearheaded and largely funded by the influential business mogul Gabriel Agreste.
Unfortunately, as Gabriel Agreste was unavoidably detained and unable to be present for this historic occasion, Andre had apparently taken it upon himself to try to steal the spotlight.
It was an election year after all.
Thankfully Hawkmoth could entertain himself by imagining the incredibly uncomfortable phone call that the insufferable twit would be receiving later that week from his less than amused campaign contributor.
At least this exercise in political mastrabation was finally drawing to a close.
Andre had finally introduced Ms. Nathalie Sancoeur- the overseer of the project- which meant this tedious event could finally move into its final stage.
Thank God Nathalie had never been one to waste time with needless exposition.
She stepped in from of the podium addressed him as well as the crowd.
“Good afternoon Ladies and Gentleman, as Mayor Bourgeois has said I am Nathalie Sancoeur, the primary coordinator and manager of the rehabilitation and restitution initiative. As I am sure you have been informed Mssr Hawkmoth, it is my job to ensure that you have paid off your debt to society through public service. In addition, all the proceeds from the establishment, which my employer has so generously founded for this program-“ he could hear the sarcasm dripping from Nathalie’s voice, though he doubted any of the other onlookers save perhaps one would catch the subtle difference in her cadence, “-will be donated towards the foundation for Akuma related trama and emotional destress you yourself will be expected to put in a required number of hours as a good faith gesture.”
He tried not to roll his eyes as Nathalie continued to list off the various details of his servitude to him, as the surrounding crowd of politicians and law enforcement officials nodded along encouragingly.
It was hardly as though he needed to pay that much attention, the entire concept had been his idea after all. A grand public gesture to keep Andre and the others feeling like they had some semblance of control in a world where magically enhanced heroes waged war on otherworldly beings.
More importantly, it was an attempt to display a sense of contrition for his previous exploits. The proposal had given him a tentative foot in the door in regards to making amends with the teenage hero duo. It had been hard enough to convince them to join forces even in light of their more threatening foe, and if he was going to continue to ensure that they didn’t attempt to rob him of his miraculous he needed to make some concessions.
All in all, a handful of hours of community service every week and the start-up capital for a local business establishment was a small price to pay.
Beside, at least Adrien had finally started speaking to him again when he proposed the scheme. That alone was worth the inconvenience.
“Now, if everyone would kindly follow me,” Nathalie said concluding her statement and pulling him out of his reverie, “I believe it is time to introduce you to our new business.”
He followed behind Nathalie as she descended the steps from the capitol building the rest of the committee trailing along from a safe distance and eagerly tailed by the substantial crowd that had turned up to attend the press conference.
For the first time he realized that he had never bother to actually check with Nathalie as to exactly what sort of plebeian work he was about to be subjected to. He had simply left the details entirely in her control. However, that also meant that he had no real idea what sort of business she had set up for this little charity project, and it certainly wouldn’t be anything that could risk exposing his true identity. He felt a brief shudder of dread as he caught sight of Ladybug and Chat Noir comfortably perched atop a small shop, holding a cloth banner over the entry display so as to ensure a grand reveal.
“Should I be concerned,” he whispered at his guide.
She turned towards him with hint of amusement in her eyes.
“I assume you Mssr Hawkmoth a great amount of thought and attention has gone into this project, and everything has been handled with the utmost consideration to your assorted skills and talents.”
He looked up nervously and locked eyes with the manically grinning Chat Noir.
No this was definitely not good.
“Ladies and Gentleman,” Nathalie called out to the eagerly waiting crowd, “May I present to you, our newest café.”
Oh god… oh no…
He looked up in horror as the two heroes pulled away the cloth to reveal the gleaming storefront logo.
AKUMA-CHAIS café and lounge.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he hissed turning to glare at Nathalie.
“Is something wrong Mssr?” she asked coolly, the corners of her mouth twisting into the slightest hint of a smile.
He opened his mouth to argue but the words died in his throat as Nathalie lifted a single eyebrow knowingly.
He couldn’t say anything. Not here, not now. Hawkmoth had absolutely no grounds upon which to object, and it would make no sense for the recluse villain to suddenly begin snapping at his “project supervisor” whom he had only officially met once before a few weeks earlier. And she knew it too.
“So,” he choked out as calmly as he could manage, “I’m going to be working… here?”
“That is correct,” Nathalie said the lightest tinge of humor coloring her voice. “You see my employer, who as you know provided the funds for this establishment, and came up with this rehabilitation program-“
“I am well aware of that fact Ms. Sancoeur.”
“Well his wife used to work as a barista before they married.”
“You don’t say.”
“So when it was suggested that we could establish a café as our enterprise everyone thought it seemed like an appropriate choice.”
“I could have sworn I heard a rumor that your employer despises coffee, and in fact finds the smell rather revolting.”
“You know I do believe you might be right,” Nathalie said, still managing to maintain her impeccable faced of nonchalance, “but his son was the one who proposed the idea and My employer does so value the happiness of his family.”
This is why it was never a good idea to make ones employees indispensable. They became far to pretentious.
“I suppose he came up with the name as well?”
“Oh no,” Nathalie said unable to hide the slight smirk she had been holding back up to this point, “That was Chat Noir’s idea.”
Paring: Ladynoir Rating: T/General Word Count: 2857 Summary: If it takes rejection for love to blossom does that make it any less sincere? Marinette would tell you, but she doesn’t know the answer herself.
A/N: here we go again! I’m so excited to share this with you guys and I hope you enjoy it!!