AU Yeah August

@starpony999 Here is your belated holiday gift at long last! I apologise its a little scruffy I hope you still enjoy it ^w^

In strangers’ clothes after dark, the city of romance cold and stark

She touches his heart and finds her home

In his arms she’s never alone.

this one’s for @thatanonwiththeoc and @kitten-noire and those 2 anons thanks for enabling me when i asked ;w; hope yall enjoy even tho its super super late! a thank you to @constantconfusion14 for the first beta,,, i was too excited to post by the time i actually finished revising it so all mistakes in this version are my own

adrienette + roommates (+ no powers)

@auyeahaugust

Marinette woke with a start,  sweat dampening her clammy brow.

She sat up and leaned against the headboard, her arms unconsciously moving to wrap around her own chest.

Another nightmare.

Marinette let out a shuddering breath. Breathe in, breathe out. 

She could never put a name to the shadowy terrors that haunted her head, her worst fears that were made manifest in her dreams. But if there was one thing she desperately wanted to know, it was that they were just dreams and nothing more.

She didn’t dare think of what it might mean if they were ever confirmed.

Eventually Marinette decided to wake Adrien up. She didn’t think she’d be able to bear being alone any longer.

Summoning up the energy to smile, she stood up and crept to his room, which was right next to hers, the two bedrooms the main part of their shared apartment.

Throwing a casual glance at the digital clock on his bedside table, she closed the door behind her gently.

He looked near angelic in the soft moonlight, the windows near his bed shining on him like a silver spotlight. She felt a pang in her heart. 

It could’ve been from guilt. Could’ve been because she’d been reminded that she liked him. Could’ve been both.

But right now wasn’t the time and place to dissect her feelings. Right now… right now she just needed someone to be with. 

(And maybe eat some cookies with, too. She was getting a tad hungry.)

She let out one last sigh. Then she stepped to his side, a small grin breaking out on her face as she poked his cheek.

And so the end of another AU Month. It was fun, but now I’ll take a break from monthly fills but just until Inktober/Drawlloween/whatever I decide to do in October. Hope you all enjoyed!

And since most people responded well to my Mythology fills, here’s one more!

Series: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: G Genre: Fluff Pairing(s): Adrinette Summary: The Goddess of Spring doesn’t know where she is, but it’s beautiful. The sight that the God of the Underworld comes across, he’ll never forget it. Warning: No beta!

Finally finished writing the background of Dear Chat Noir! Now the penpal-ing (is that a word?) will begin… Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

—

Chapter 2: Lost and Found

The Tom & Sabine bakery being one of the few Parisian boulangeries to stay open through the whole day on Sundays, it received a steady flow of customers that called for personnel reinforcements. It was particularly the case in Summer, as the neighbourhood bakers tended to take their holiday leave in July rather than in late August like Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng, so Marinette always made a point of helping her parents out. Although slightly clumsy, she was very appreciated among the clients for her kindness and excellent pastry advice.

Today, though, Marinette’s mind was a million miles away from the popular bakery. She mixed up orders and tripped a lot more than usual, although not enough to worry her parents; they caught their daughter’s mistakes with a smile, attributing her absentmindedness to the fact she’d finally relaxed into holiday mode.

Marinette secretly watched the time, eager to return to the park. Her thoughts were entirely focused on the mysterious Luxembourg writer, and their letters. What could they possibly hold? Memoirs? An unreciprocated love story? Deep secrets?… She just had to know. 

As the hours ticked by, and the park’s closing time approached, she saw her hopes of meeting their author dwindle, but was determined to get to the letters nonetheless. When the bakery finally closed its doors for the day, Marinette conjured some vague excuse and ran out before her parents could even say a word. 

Skulking around the fountain, cautious not to bring attention to herself despite the fact she was heavily panting from her journey, she finally dropped onto the bench and pulled out the tin box from under it. She was surprised to find a new letter neatly lined up with the others, with the day’s date. Flicking through the older ones, Marinette realised all of them must have been dropped off on a Sunday. Whoever wrote them would not be back until the next week. 

Her temptation to just pick up the box and go home with it won over the more reasonable option of letting it be when she heard  heavy footsteps behind her. 

“Excuse me, miss.” A park guard cleared his throat. “The park will be closing in a few minutes, please make your way to the nearest exit.”

She got up gracefully, clutching her loot and gave the man a dazzling smile for enabling her curiosity. “Merci, Monsieur.”

—

Adrien was over the Moon. Today was definitely a good day.

Gabriel had tried and failed to find a better model than his son for his autumn collection photo shoot, leading to an unscheduled outing to the jardin du Luxembourg. The boy would have hugged his father, had it been acceptable.

And if the man had actually told him the good news to his face, rather than sending his assistant, Nathalie.

He wasn’t going to hold it against him, though. He’d already really brightened up his Wednesday.

Adrien basked in the warm Sun between two outfit changes, eyeing the Médicis Fountain. He’d decided that such an occasion deserved a special letter, which he’d carefully hidden inside his sock. It wasn’t the most comfortable option, but he knew it was one of the only clothing items he’d be able to keep all day long. He shifted the envelope around depending on the photographer’s angle to avoid it being seen in the promotional pictures.

When the crew declared a coffee break after various takes in front of the Palais du Luxembourg, Adrien furtively made his way towards his hiding place, using the fact he shouldn’t stay out in the Sun too much as an excuse to do so. He once again mentally thanked his father for providing the perfect escape; Adrien couldn’t count the number of times Gabriel had rambled about his “fragile complection”, especially in front of his staff. Nobody would question his actions.

He pretended to examine the statue of Polypheme and Galatea that stood in the centre of the Fountain for good measure, taking great care to look refreshed. He saw a couple of flashes go off, proof that he was still being watched. When he was satisfied the photographers had gotten all the candids they wanted, he ventured further back into the shade and sat on the stone bench. He slowly reached down behind it, making sure he did not attract attention to himself. He groped for the box in the vicinity of its usual location -he would know, being the one who placed it there each time-, to no avail. He frowned and shifted further to the right, covering a new patch of sand. Still not feeling the cool metallic tin, he pretended to drop the jacket he’d been holding in the last official picture and squatted exaggeratingly slowly to retrieve it.

He looked under the bench, hoping he’d unknowingly pushed the box too far back into the hedge. But there was nothing more than a lonely paper receipt and a couple of leaves there.

Adrien’s heart sunk in his chest. His secret stash had finally been found, and been disposed of. He felt tears gather in his eyes, partially blurring his vision. Part of him had always known this was bound to happen someday. It wasn’t a particularly discreet hiding place, after all. The other part of him was disappointed that his safe space was no longer.

His name being called out brought him back to reality. He took a deep breath, wiped his eyes, and wore his best smile as he stood up and walked back towards the crew. Spotting a dustbin on his way, he pretended to tie his shoelaces and swiftly took out the envelope from his sock. He tore it apart and threw it away.

Sorry, Plagg.

Alyanette Week is Coming | September 27 to October 3

Use the hashtag #alyanette week and/or our blog @miraculous-events to share your creations with us!

As long as Alyanette is the main focus of the content, we plan to reblog it!

We trust you won’t create character or ship hate/salt content!

For anything NSFW, please put it under a cut!

Here is a list of the prompts:

September 27 | Blogging September 28 | Baking September 29 | Fashion September 30 | Free Day* October 1 | First Date October 2 | Cuddling October 3 | Astronomy

Celebrate Adrino Week with Us | During September 20-26

Use the hashtag #adrinoweek and/or our blog @miraculous-events to share your creations with us!

As long as Adrino is the main focus of the content, we plan to reblog it!

We trust you won’t create character or ship hate/salt content!

For anything NSFW, please put it under a cut!

Here is a list of the prompts:

September 20 | Mixtape September 21 | Disguises September 22 | Secret Handshake September 23 | Free Day* September 24 | Birthday September 25 | Party September 26 | Matching

In which I do a very short fill for today because I’m working on finishing a short chaptered story on AO3, but now I sit and contemplate what to do for Thirty-One. How unfortunate, but this means the end of AU Yeah August for now so let’s get some fun suggestions for the last, yes?

Series: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: G Genre: General Pairing(s): Slight Adrinette Summary: Marinette has a roommate. She’s never met them really because their schedules clash, but that changed tonight. Warning: No beta!

i just wanna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ignoring the indignant ‘hey!’ from the blonde, Kagami looks at him in worry. “What did she say to you?”

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

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

Adrien sighs. She’s right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kagami looks shocked, but nods slowly. “An honorable choice.”

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

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

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

She looks absolutely beautiful tonight.

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

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

“I have my Ladybug radar on at all times.”

“What about your Ryuuko radar?”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s great you’re here Ladybug,” he says, almost flustered. “I’m a great fan of yours.”

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

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

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

“Believe me, I feel the same way.”

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

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

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

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

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

Then:

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

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

“May I, milady?”

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

Her eyes close, visibly nervous.

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

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

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

He shrugs, the teasing grin still on his face.

“Maybe I just wanted to.”

.

.

Sigh… I really wanted this to be a one-shot. Desperately so. And then I wanted the premise to fit into one chapter. I really did. And then for both premise chapters to be ready before @auyeahaugust was over. Oh well.

Here’s chapter 1 of Dear Chat Noir, my ML Penpal AU (day 25 of AU Yeah August). Chapter 2 should be up soon!

Read on AO3

—

Chapter 1: Of mysterious findings

If you asked Adrien Agreste to describe himself, he would have said he was a somewhat normal child. Should you ask anyone else, their answers would range from “who?” to “a child prodigy”. 

Adrien lived a secluded life in his family’s mansion, away from any distractions, as his father called anything that wasn’t piano practise or fencing training. Every school was considered a waste of time for his son’s intelligence, leading to private tutors to be taken on to satisfy Gabriel Agreste’s education standards. Adrien’s experience of the outside world was limited to being driven to these activities, if they couldn’t take place within the four walls that surrounded the Agreste Hôtel Particulier, and a weekly Sunday evening walk at the Jardin du Luxembourg with his bodyguard. The latter was the only tradition he’d managed to maintain after his mother’s passing. It wasn’t the same without her, but he did enjoy the fresh air. 

He’d also had a brief time in the spotlight as a model for his father’s fashion brand, but Gabriel Agreste had not looked on his son’s increased freedom and contacts with people his age with a favourable eye, and had restricted any unnecessary interactions.

Adrien was therefore left alone with his thoughts most of the time. Part of him wished he could go out more and meet other children, but he knew from his father he was very lucky to be living the life he was. And it was true he couldn’t really complain: he lived in a palace, by Parisian standards, was well fed, well dressed, and was receiving the best education he could ever hope for. Some people had it a lot worse than he did.

Still, he found himself dreaming that one day, maybe, he’d have a little more freedom. With no one to talk about it with, his father’s assistants all siding with the man who held the money if he tried to confide in them, Adrien had taken the habit of putting his thoughts to paper. It had been sporadic at first, but had soon evolved into a daily exercise. He sat in his bed at night, his gigantic room only lit by a little flashlight, and poured out his emotions.

Dear Plagg, the boy wrote that night. He had started addressing his letters to a fictional friend to make himself feel better. Once upon a time, he had tried journaling, but had soon discovered his inner thoughts were not as safe as he’d thought they’d be in the little notebook he kept in one of his fencing trophies; he’d noticed pages had been torn from flicking through them too fast, some had been cornered to mark certain parts, clearly indicating he wasn’t the book’s only reader. He’d therefore moved on to writing his entries on loose paper, which he hid in a little tin box next to a fountain in the Jardin du Luxembourg. He’d soon taken to the game of writing the letters, even enclosing them in envelopes. Between two visits to the park, he would stash them in various locations in his room, making sure the seals stayed intact.

Adrien tried to vary the contents of his letters, even though no one would read them, and nothing particularly exciting happened to him on a day to day basis. He found it kept him focused on the small joys of his life, like when the cook smuggled him an extra croissant, a fragrant flower bloomed in the garden, or he spotted a ladybug on the window while studying. 

He signed the letter the usual way: Until next time, Chat Noir. He read through the letter again, satisfied with the result. Journaling really did wonders to improve his mood. Even if the negative feelings did remain somewhat, it felt good to “share” a little, even though his letters had yet to be found by anyone, or anything. The letter would join the others the next Sunday, and he wouldn’t think twice about it. 

Or so he thought.

— 

“Tikki!” Marinette Dupain-Cheng chased after the turbulent dog, whose leash had once again escaped her hands while she admired one the Luxembourg statues. She wasn’t very good with dogs, but when her old neighbour Mr Fu had fallen ill, she’d bravely accepted to walk Tikki until he felt better. She’d figured it wouldn’t be very hard, given how calm the dog was. 

Apparently Mr Fu was an animal whisperer, though, because the dog had been nothing but excited since she’d taken custody of her. It was cute, but Marinette was also tired of running around, Tikki being particularly good at losing her in the park’s alleys. 

The young girl sighed as she saw the leash drag around a corner, and slowed her pace. She knew the Jardin du Luxembourg quite well thanks to its central location in Paris, making it a prime spot to meet up with friends. Tikki had just dashed into a dead end; the worst that could happen was her jumping into the Medicis Fountain, but she hoped the barriers that surrounded it would prevent that. 

Turning into the alley, Marinette saw her prayers had seemingly been answered, as Tikki was busy sniffing at something under a stone bench. The Parisian walked up to her, marvelling at the fountain as she did so. The leafy trees surrounding it provided a nice dappled lighting and welcome shade on the hot summer Saturday. The babbling of the water and its gentle sprays only accentuated the cool atmosphere. 

Marinette sat on the bench, picked up Tikki’s leash and gently tried to pull her out from under her seat, but encountered a great resistance.

“What have you found there, girl?” Marinette asked, slightly concerned by the dog’s pining. She leaned over and tried to determine what had caught Tikki’s attention, hoping it would be a lost ball. She had seen rats scuttle around the park a couple of times, and had no interest in coming face to face with one, whether alive or dead.

She looked down and saw Tikki was pawing at a tin biscuit box, pushed deep under the bench, almost in the little hedge that stood behind it. Marinette smiled and shook her head, reading the inscription from afar: Macarons. That dog really did only think with her stomach.

“You know you’re not supposed to eat those, they’re not for you.” Marinette scratched the dog’s neck. Seeing that it didn’t divert her attention, she sighed and kneeled down next to the bench, reaching for the box herself. “You know, I’m sure you’re going to be disappointed, I don’t know if you’re aware but most tin boxes these days don’t actually contain food.” She explained, although she wasn’t sure her audience was very receptive to her words. 

Marinette pulled out the box, which was a lot lighter than she’d expected. She shook it gently next to Tikki’s ear to prove it did not contain treats, and was surprised to hear a soft ruffle, like paper. She sat on the bench again and laid the box on her lap. Her hands hovered over it, hesitant to open it. 

She looked around suspiciously, watching out for anyone trying to pull a prank on her, or just its innocent owner, but the area was empty. 

I really shouldn’t open it, she thought to herself. The box looked quite clean for something that was hidden. It was probably used often, or had been dropped off recently. Had it been hers, she probably wouldn’t have liked to know someone had gone through it. Tikki licked the box gently, which Marinette interpreted as “no one has to know”.

“Okay, fine, I’m doing it for you. It’ll be our secret.” She nodded gravely at the dog and lifted the edges of the lid.

She didn’t know what she’d expected to find. Maybe a bunch of little trinkets, like in the movie Amélie. Perhaps a badly hidden stash of money. Whatever it had been, it definitely wasn’t a collection of letters, all sporting the same handwriting on the envelopes. Tikki looked into the box curiously.

“See, I told you so.” Marinette tilted the box towards the dog. “Nothing in there for you.”

She carefully picked the first envelope. It had the previous Sunday’s date on it. Nothing else.

She was about to look at the next one when her phone rang. She jumped at the sound, almost spilling the box’s contents as she did so, and fished the device out of her handbag. A picture of her parents appeared on the lit screen. Marinette looked at the time and swore internally. She’d been out for over an hour, when she’d said she was only going to be half an hour. She hastily put the letters back in the tin, and slid the latter back under the bench.

“Come on Tikki, time to go home.”

— 

As she lay in bed that night, Marinette couldn’t stop thinking about the box and its contents. It had just been so odd for it to be there. Who, in their right mind, stored their letters in a public garden? Surely there were better hiding places in an apartment, or wherever the author lived.

Speaking of the author, she found it weird that there’d only seemed to be one, if she could tell from the neatly traced dates on the envelopes she’d seen. It therefore didn’t seem like a makeshift postbox, like the one in Little Women. 

In which I come up with another AU for Final Fantasy IX and find myself sinking into the rabbit hole for another story most of the day. Faaaak…

Series: Final Fantasy IX Rating: G Genre: Fluff, General Pairing(s): Gardane/Zidah Summary: While most of Tantalus entertains the crowd, Sarah (Garnet) is tasked with luring the Prince back to the ship. Warning: No beta! Role-swap AU!

Maki had hoped to take Nico back to her family, but the injuries were too severe. Putting Nico on a sled and pulling her until they found a hidden valley had taken most of Maki’s strength. And now they rested. Maki had surprised herself by building a small lean to shelter. She’d mastered fire without magic by now, but carving a crude shelter out of trees was a skill she learned as she did it.

It was a stormy valley, clouds and mist hiding it from view with a small cave under a waterfall where Maki left Nico while she built, alone, under the cooling stars and through the burning sun. She’d never been alone, not really, bustle had been surrounding her for as many years as she could remember. Bustle and everyone knowing every detail of her actions. Now, when Maki sliced a hand because her aim was off and her ax slipped, it was a private lesson, a pain to keep to herself. Nico might ask about the scar, sometime, when she had energy for more than eating and sleeping, but maybe Maki would keep the details to herself, as maybe she would keep the count of stars that filled the sky a silent joy, never speaking the number out loud. And as she learned to sing without magic, birds joined in to be playful, not because they were compelled.

i know that we belong, you are the music in me.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

ADRIEN gets an apartment in a strangely-named building called  Liberty .

It’s not his first choice, of course; though his current life choices lead him to no other option.

Well, that’s not quite fair: Chloé offers to let him stay at Le Grande Paris— “for free,” she explains, “I’ll just have to tell daddy he can’t rent the penthouse anymore.”

But the last thing he wants is to depend on someone else after finally getting his freedom, so all Adrien says is “thank you”, and declines.

Marinette’s kind enough to help him go apartment-hunting, but her quirky and all-around strange (but endearing!) personality leads her to recommend Adrien the strangest buildings and landlords in town.

Anarka Couffaine, the landlady of Liberty, is no exception.

(The opposite, if anything else.)

She’s a huge personality for a woman her age— something that visibly throws him off-balance. Adrien’s become all but too used to stiff and strict adults, monitoring his every word and movement to assure that he’s at his perfect behavior at all times.

A woman who he can only really describe as loud: from the volume of her voice to her unique sense of clothing and visible love for (over)-accessorizing is not at all something he’s used to.

“Welcome to Liberty!” She tells him, bursting with life and energy. “You must be Marinette’s friend, then?”

He winces, then smiles awkwardly. “Yeah, it’s Adrien Agreste…”

“Agreste!” She says in surprise, eyes widening almost cartoonishly. “You’re that young model everyone’s obsessed with nowadays, aren’t you? I’m not sure why I didn’t recognize your face earlier— one of my kids is absolutely head over heels for you.”

He laughs, though it’s more politeness than anything else. “I’m flattered,” he starts, before shaking his head. “And I don’t believe I’m as big of a deal as you said I was, but I did work as a model, way back when.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Did?”

“It’s just… it wasn’t my true calling,” he fumbles for the right words to say, unsure of how to word it properly (especially to someone he’s only just met). “I wanted the freedom to choose my own path, so I left. Which is kind-of why I’m here, I guess…”

Anarka’s smile turns kind, and she pats him comfortingly on the shoulder.

“A search for freedom, then,” she repeats, before grinning brightly. “You’ve definitely come to the right place! Here in Liberty, our crew is filled with all kinds of individuals trying to find themselves; without the rules or strictness to keep anyone down. To be true to yourself, without any limitations! That's what I want this building to be; a home for those creative souls to fulfill their deepestdesires and potentials.”

She continues on for a good minute in a lengthy speech about freedom and discovery, and Adrien’s surprised to find himself listening with rapt attention.

Freedom to find himself?

That's exactly what he needs.

When she finishes her long spiel, Anarka is greeted with a genuine smile and a hand offered for her to take.

“I’d love to live here, if you’d have me.”

She doesn’t even hesitate, joyfully taking his arm and giving it a firm shake.

“Nice to have you on-board with us!”

.

.

Adrien doesn’t have a lot of things to move in.

And there isn’t that much space for things, in the first place.

The apartment is modest, with general provisions for all his basic necessities… and not much else. If he had to compare things to his old room, the apartment was only the tiniest bit larger than his personal basketball court— almost nothing compared to the entire third floor he owned back at home.

Yet, even with the small amount of physical space, Adrien has honestly never felt so free.

He settles down on the bed, then shuts his eyes.

It’s been a tiring day, after all, and all he wants to do is rest.

So, he tries.

Until the unmistakable sound of a guitar twang echoes through the room.

Adrien gets up with a start, only belatedly realizing that the sound isn’t coming from his own apartment.

It’s coming from the apartment next door.

He tries to ignore it, placing the pillow around his ears to cover the noise.

But the notes keep on coming.

Twang. Twang. Twaaaaaaang.

Then a few chord progressions, a thoughtful pause, then twang again.

If Adrien cared to listen, he’d realize that the tune isn’t all that bad.

But no, he’s sleep-deprived and cranky and about ready to fight someone if he doesn’t get his eight hours of beauty rest.

(He may not be a model anymore, but he still takes care of his skin and body religiously.)

The sounds suddenly stop, and Adrien heaves a relieved sigh.

Finally!

Then, the sound of someone plugging something in. A bump, static, then the unmistakable sound coming from an electric guitar.

Please, no.

The mysterious neighbor starts playing various notes and melodies, as Adrien helplessly tries to ignore it.

Needless to say, he doesn’t get any sleep that night.

.

.

He tries to get in contact with Anarka the next day, but she tells him that she’s not around.

Instead, she gets him into contact with his son.

“He usually takes care of business in Liberty while I’m not around,” she explains through call. “He’s pretty responsible, if I do say so myself. A good kid. So I’ll give you his number and— Jagged, don’t you dare— I’m sorry, I need to go, but I’ll see you around, yeah? Luka’s in my office, just knock on the door and he’ll let you in— ohmygod are you SERIOUS— I have to go now, bye!”

Luka Couffaine, then?

He makes a note to remember it.

.

.

Adrien knocks on the door carefully, and after hearing a muffled, “come in”, goes inside.

Only to be greeted by the most handsome man he’s ever met.

(Which is saying a lot, because Adrien regularly used to work with models, but he— he is on his own league entirely.)

Casually leaning upon the desk, Luka is definitely the textbook definition of what would one find if they were to search for attractive male on the dictionary. He gives off a completely confident and mature atmosphere, which clashes with Adrien’s own more childish and (to some extent) immature vibes. The landlady’s son smiles at him, and Adrien can almost feel his cheeks threaten to burst from the sudden heat.

Is it hot in here, or is it just him?

Me.

The  weather .

He’s spiraling.

“You must be Adrien Agreste, then?” He asks, voice smooth and husky and everything good all at the same time. “Our new tenant.”

“Yeah.”

Yeah. How intricate of you, Adrien.

Luka’s smile grows wider. “So, adjusting to life here at Liberty okay? It can be hard for newbies the first few weeks,” he pauses, then takes a moment to observe the overly-prim-and-proper posture of his conversational partner. “Some, more so than others.”

He wants to protest, but can’t quite get the words out.

Instead, he gives up.

“I— I have a concern.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“It’s about my neighbor.”

Luka pauses at the revelation, then smiles at him. “Ah, the one who lives in Room 202.”

“Yes!” Adrien responds, almost a little too loudly. “Have you had problems with them before?”

He shrugs offhandedly, the smile still on his face. “He’s caused his fair share of issues. What’d he do to you?”

He.

So, the musical maniac was a male.

“He won’t stop playing! The whole night it was just twang twang twang, and I could barely even get any rest! You know, sleep is important; it ensures the body is prepared for the day and not to mention does absolute wonders for your skin—”

“So he ruined your beauty sleep?”

The younger boy huffs indignantly. “He ruined my regular sleep. I wouldn’t mind him practicing in the morning or afternoon, but can he stop playing at night? It’s two in the morning and I can still hear that damned melody in my head, like it’s not even that good—”

“You don’t think it’s any good?”

Adrien’s visibly thrown off by the sudden interruption. “I’m sorry?”

Luka repeats himself. “The melody? It wasn’t good?”

“I, uh, I guess it was okay?” He corrects, unsure. “Speaking from a music theory perspective, the chord progressions blend together well, but it could be improved on…”

“What do you suggest?”

He’s surprised to hear the seriousness in Luka’s tone. “Uhm… maybe instead of hmmmhmmmhm, he could do hmmhmmhmhmmm?” Adrien pauses. “If that makes sense. But that’s not my concern, my concern is—”

Luka repeats the tone to himself, then hums thoughtfully. “It does sound better.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I need to go,” the older boy suddenly says, getting up.

“Wait, but I still have an issue, so if you could…?!”

“Sorry,” Luka smiles, turning back from the doorframe. “I’ll be sure to relay your issue. But this is important, okay? I’ll see you around!”

He almost runs out of the office, leaving Adrien to himself.

Like mother like son, then?

.

.

As Adrien readies to go back to sleep, he’s ecstatic to find that there’s no sound coming from the other apartment.

Thank you, Luka Couffaine.

He climbs to bed, shuts his eyes, then…

Knock.

Damn it.

Grumbling to himself, Adrien walks toward the door, then almost doubles over as he sees who’s at the interest.

“Luka, what are you— I, is there any issue I can help you with?”

(Landlord, who?)

He laughs, then nods toward his apartment.

“Can I come in?”

“Uhm, I… why?”

(Rude, rude, why is he being so rude?)

Luka doesn’t seem bothered.

Instead, he moves his arm to reveal something Adrien hadn’t noticed at the start:

A blue-and-white electric guitar.

Oh, so he’s a guitarist.

That’s pretty attractive.

…

Wait.

“You’re resident 202?!”

Luka nods, a hint of a smile still on his face.

“Yup. And I need your help.”

“With what?”

“That melody,” he starts casually. “You made it so much better. Want to hear?”

No, he does not want to hear. He wants the annoying guitar boy to leave his apartment and let him to go to sleep and—

Oh.

That actually sounds pretty good.

Luka hums along to the guitar, and Adrien pauses.

He's… not that bad.

Noticing his almost-smitten expression, Luka smiles. “Want to help me out with the rest of the song?”

The words escape Adrien’s mouth before he even realizes it.

“Yes.”

Huh.

“Wait… but on one condition.”

Luka’s eyes are almost smiling with him.

“Name it.”

“No practicing in the evening.”

“If you practice with me in the afternoon, then sure.”

“… fine.”

“Great!”

.

.

Working with Luka isn’t easy. He’s easily-distracted, gets lost in the music, and has a tendency to rely more on his feelings and instincts than objective fact and musical theory.

But his expressions come to life when he plays, and it’s almost mesmerizing.

promise me you’ll stay, beyond the sunrise.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

i.

MARINETTE doesn’t know how he got her address.

She’d only moved in that day, after a haphazard decision to do so for independence and freedom in her own work. (Though the whole Ladybug-and-unexplained-disappearances thing when living her parents was a huge factor, too.)

Scratch that, it’s probably the onlyfactor.

If it weren’t for her parents’ growing suspicion and concern due to her heroic escapades, Marinette would still choose to stay at home and with them; or at the very least, stay nearby.

She had to move a good distance away— a bus ride or so, in order to rationalize with her parents why she had to move out. (“But why do you have to leave?” “Moving would be easier for me to do my work! It cuts down on transportation time a lot.”)

Never mind that as Ladybug, she can move from one side of Paris to another in mere minutes.

The apartment itself is quite modest, with enough space for her to live comfortably (but not much for anything else). Nino, Alya, and Adrien had helped her move in all her stuff, though quite a few were still left untouched inside their boxes.

It’s more a reflection of Marinette’s need for privacy than their helpfulness as friends, though— since a hefty amount of the items in those containers hold her carefully-curated collection of Adrien Agreste collectibles, limited edition items, and posters.

So. Many. Posters.

(It’s been years, but her crush on him has only grown all the more intensely. She’s grown out of her stuttering phase, fortunately, but the butterflies in her stomach don’t fade, either.)

Exhaustedly, Marinette lies on her mattress.

They only left an hour ago… is it okay to miss them this much?

She’s not accustomed to the quiet, especially with the bustling energy of her family and the customers that arrive for their daily dose of caffeine in the early mornings. The lack of aromatic scents of freshly-baked breads and desserts as she lays down is a stark reminder that she’s not home anymore.

Marinette sighs to herself.

Maybe she’s lonely.

Just a little bit.

It’s in that exact moment someone comes knocking on her balcony door. The balcony is a good amount smaller than the one she had at home, only really enough for a few plants and one person—

Or one disguised cat-themed hero.

His smile’s bright as she pushes away the curtain and opens the sliding door.

Chat Noir doesn’t even wait for a verbal invitation; he walks inside, looking around in wonder.

“Wow, you’ve already unpacked a lot,” he starts, noticing her sewing machine set up on a desk nearby. “You already took it out?”

An eyebrow raised. “Yeah… why?”

“I thought you were setting up your sewing area last,” he starts, before absurdly coughing to himself at her suspicious glance. “I mean, considering that it’s the only one without a designated space… I thought you’d do everything else first, because it’s common sense, right?”

Hmmm.

“That was the original plan,” she finally admits. “But I have commissions to work on, so I decided to keep it there. Temporarily, at the very least.” Chat Noir nods, before Marinette gestures at him. “So… how did you find out about here?”

“What do you mean?”

“My apartment?” She asks, leaning upon the door frame. “I don’t recall telling you where I was moving.”

“Oh…,” he pauses, sifting through her boxes. “Uh, superhero, remember? Ladybug and I make it a point to know where everybody is at all times. To protect the citizens of Paris and all that!”

Well, that’s not even the slightest bit true, but it’s not as if Marinette can rebuff him.

So, she nods in fake understanding instead and shrugs.

“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing here, though?”

Chat Noir smiles. “I figured that you'd meowss the company. You moved pretty far from your friends.” He sounds almost sad at that revelation, and Marinette almost feels sorry.

(What would he be so sad for? It’s not like she moved far away from him.

Though she wouldn’t really know, if she did.)

“Well, I can’t say that I don’t appreciate you showing up.” She smiles, eyes bright.

It’s a sweet moment.

Until:

“You can help me unpack everything else.”

(They spend the rest of the night unpacking things, but Marinette insists that one box be left alone. When Chat Noir accidentally sees a peak of an all-too-familiar model’s poster flap out from its cover…

he thankfully decides against mentioning it.)

.

.

some of us just want adventures, the open-sea wind in our earrings.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

MARINETTE doesn’t run away for any particularly deep reason.

She likes being a princess well enough; to be pampered and taken care of for every little thing. Whatever she wishes for becomes the topmost priority for people to fulfill. Life is convenient and easy, but sometimes to the point that it's too much so.

Whether or not it’s a good thing, Marinette simply finds life in the palace boring.

More than anything, she wants freedom. She wants to face obstacles and danger. She craves adventure.

(Anything at all to get her out of the gated walls of the palace, if even for a moment.)

So when Marinette overhears her father talking about one of the merchant ships going to the Cesaire Kingdom— she’s never been there before, and letters exchanged between her and Princess Alya always make it seem like a wonderful place to go— the occasion becomes both a golden opportunity and a goal:

To sneak out of the castle and get on that boat.

(In reality, Marinette can very easily ask her parents to send her to the Kingdom— and they’d be absolutely glad to do so, likely even sending an entire fleet to accompany her; but that’d be too simple.

She wants the dramatic adventures of being a stowaway on a ship, moving away to far-off lands and distant places. But she’ll likely take one of Alya’s boats when she decides to come back.)

It’s supposed to only be a fun little vacation, after all.

Nothing permanent.

So when Marinette goes down to the seaport and sneaks onto a mysterious boat along the shores, with her kingdom’s logo messily draped upon its sails, she expects to be found by kind merchants and jolly villagers who would gladly help on her mini little adventure while on the water.

Instead, however, she gets found by a not-so-nice young man with black hair dyed gold at the tips— something she’d never quite seen before— and is almost manhandled onto the ship’s deck.

“Guess what I found crawling inside the hold,” he grins, roughly pulling her forward. “A little bug managed to sneak inside without us realizing it.”

“A girl?” A tanned boy appears and looks her up and down, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “How the hell did she get in here?”

Marinette’s captor shrugs, still holding her by the arm. “Must’ve done it while we were getting supplies at the… where were we again?”

A messy-haired boy rolls his eyes, half-covered by the bangs upon his face. “The Dupain-Cheng Kingdom. Kim, we were just there like half an hour ago.”

“Shut up! It’s not like I should care about that stuff. You’re the cartographer,” he suddenly pulls at Marinette, making her wince. “And I'm the muscle.”

“Anyway, I don’t get why anyone would sneak in here in the first place.” The tanned boy speaks again, walking towards her and kneeling down until they’re facing each other directly. “Do you have a death wish, little girl?”

Marinette spits in his face, before suddenly thrashing and breaking free of the man's— Kim’s— chokehold. She grabs the sword sheathed in his belt, steps back, and panickedly holds the weapon forward.

“Don’t come near me!”

Nino wipes at his face with his sleeve, but otherwise seems (strangely) unbothered.

He only smiles. “Do you even know how to use that?”

“Shut up!” Marinette says, frantic, before waving the sword around. “What kind of merchants are you, to handle a woman— to handle me, so roughly… how dare you?!”

(She realizes later on how entitled that sounds, but blames it on her royal upbringing.)

“We’re not the one who snuck into a pirate’s ship, miss. You’re the trespasser here.”

She splutters. “That’s not the point! The fact is that I— wait.

Did you say pirate ship?”

The tanned boy walks forward, and his smile does nothing but unnerve her.

Marinette takes a step back.

“Do you realize the situation you’re in, then?”

“No, but I… this is a Dupain-Cheng merchant ship,” she starts, barely getting a word out. The pirates seem completely indifferent to the sword she’s wielding. They corner her, slowly but surely. “I saw the flag, it's—!”

She looks upward to point, only to belatedly notice that her kingdom’s insignia is completely gone, replaced by a black flag with an undoubtedly familiar catlike skull placed upon it.

It’s the insignia of every scary story and warning Marinette’s ever been told about since she was a child.

She’s almost backed up against the door.

“This can’t be his ship… not that monster…”

The door suddenly opens, and Marinette’s pushed forward.

A young man stands in front of the door— tall, imposing, with dazzling green eyes that seem to pierce directly into her own.

(If this were any other occasion, Marinette would think him attractive.

But she recognizes that face from the stories they tell.)

Devilishly handsome with a mouth always upturned into a smile, His appearance is the only beauty from destruction.

Marinette vaguely notices even the pirate men step back suddenly, evidently fearful of their leader.

“Chat Noir.”

She manages to say it, her voice barely above a whisper as his smile grows ever-larger.

“So you’ve heard of me?”

“The black cat… the symbol of despair and destruction to whoever come across you and your party.” She pauses, and holds her breath. “They say nobody has seen you directly and lived to tell the tale.”

“My reputation precedes me. But I’ve heard too much about myself.”

He kneels in front of her, and forcefully tilts her chin up to face up.

“Now do tell me, how has a ladybug such as you strayed so far from home?”

.

.

“I thought I was going to die right then.”

“I do recall you having a flair for the dramatic.”

“Me? Do I need to remind you what the entire Seven Seas thinks of you?”

“Ah yes, I remember what you said. The symbol of destruction and despair, am I right? That nobody has ever seen me and lived.”

Shove.

“Ah, if only the people truly knew that the black cat pirate they were terrified of was actually just a kitty in disguise.”

“They will know and believe what they wish. After all, who would guess that the black cat’s wife was the lost princess of the Dupain-Cheng Kingdom?”

“Please, I’m much happier leaving Princess Marinette behind.”

“Good, she was a spoiled brat.”

“Watch it.”

“And I’m much happier with Ladybug, anyway.”

Sometimes, the road traveled is merely the one walked… also, have some more mythology!AU since people seemed to enjoy it!

Series: Miraculous Ladybug Rating: G+ Genre: Fluff, General Pairing(s): Adrinette Summary: Marinette shouldn’t leave her field, but the sight of that blonde-haired God in black lingers on her mind.

Warning: No beta!