#adrinettemonth2017

…

Adrien sat in his room, bored and annoyed, when a girl dressed in black and white broke through his window, shattering glass all over the floor. She brushed herself off, smirking, and looked up, eyes widening when she noticed him watching her.

“Shit. This is your room, isn’t it?” Miss Fortune asked, looking thoroughly disappointed.

He nodded slowly. This girl… honestly, she was already obsessed with Blanc. With his luck, she’d be a fan of “Adrien” too. “If you’re here to screw me- in any way- I suggest you leave.”

She laughed, tapping his nose. “As refreshing as that is to hear from you, I just came to wish you a happy birthday. And I was going to surprise you… but I suppose you can be let in on the trick. Basically, I’m going to kidnap some of your classmates, and tie up your dad, so you can have your pathetic little party. Won’t that be nice?”

He tilts his head, reading her expression. There's no love there, or infatuation, like he sees constantly when transformed. Just... a kind of guilt. A subtle pinch at the corners of her eyes, a falter in her smile, something somebody who didn't know her wouldn't pick up on... What did she do?

"Explain. Now," he commands, using the voice just a hint lower and a touch softer than usual, the voice he uses to tell her that she had best be very careful with her next answer. She cringes reflexively, before blinking at him in confusion. "Well?"

"I... I mean, your dad's a dick. And I may have some responsibility partially a little bit for the way he blew up at you, so... I'm trying to fix that?"

He thinks for just a moment, before nodding. "Carry on with it. Kidnap them, and make the old man suffer a bit."

The grin on her face is astounding, almost beautiful, as she leaves, spinning that yo-yo of hers.

...

Nino isn't sure how he feels about being held hostage for his friend's birthday party.

On the one hand, supervillains kidnapped him. Well, one supervillain, he hasn't seen Blanc around.

On the other hand...

The party is pretty great. He's been chained to a DJ booth, and given unlimited tracks to play, not to mention Alya leaning over the table, and damn, that girl... she can lean over a table really, really well.

Still. The kidnapping bit is... awkward.

Miss Fortune also happens to be currently taunting the birthday boy, who seems very unamused by all this as he sips from a cup of something that is definitely alcoholic.

"It's a great party, yeah," Adrien admits. "But where's Marinette?"

"Couldn't get her," Fortune shrugs. "She punched me in the face."

Nino wonders why Fortune's nose isn't broken... Honestly, the party isn't something he's loving, what with the whole being-chained-up thing.

"What's the matter?" Alya asks. "I mean... other than the fact that we're probably all going to die unless Blanc comes to reign in his psycho, or the butterfly dude sends one of his Champions."

"Other than that?" Nino arches an eyebrow. "Damn, you're hard to piss off... unless it's me."

She shrugs, and... wait. Is that a butterfly?

Flying towards him?!

"Aw, shit, nonono, I am not a hero, you're making a mistake-"

The butterfly does not seem to care, flying into his cuffs, and breaking him out.

"Can you take on the forces of evil, my stray child?" the voice whispers to him.

Nino sighs. "You've got the wrong guy..."

"Nino Lahiffe."

"Damn. Okay, you've got the right guy. As long as it doesn't wreck the party, sure..."

...

Adrien groans, looking up as Freedom Fighter appears, blasting away the cages and chains the party was made of. "Do I actually have to fight on my birthday?"

"I helped with the decorating." She pronounced the word carefully, puffing out her chest.

"It's really good," the boy said solemnly.

"Thanks! I'm Marinette." She stuck out her hand for a handshake—something adults did when they met someone. He took it and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her hand—something princes did in storybooks. They both giggled.

"Marinette,” the boy echoed. “That’s a pretty name. I’m Adrien." He gave her one of those radiant smiles.

“Nice to meet you, Adrien.” She paused, glancing up to see her mom still in deep conversation. “Wanna come see where we make all this stuff?” He nodded eagerly. She pulled him past their moms and through the doorway to the kitchen.

His eyes grew, if possible, even wider. He took in the pans of cooling pastries, the cookies rising in the oven, the unfinished bowls of batter—her dad must’ve been taking a break—and inhaled slowly. Marinette watched him with a grin and pushed a stool to one of the counters. She clambered onto the stool and reached up to grab at one of the pans.

“Wow, this place smells even better than the other room. You’re so lucky to live in a bakery,” Adrien sighed. Marinette nodded in agreement and handed him a profiterole.

~

They were eight years old when he had his first fight with her.

Laying beside his best friend on her bed, Adrien stretched his arms with a contented yawn. They’d propped open the trapdoor leading to her balcony so that the sun could warm their faces.

“So, how ‘bout you? Do anything cool while I was on vacation?” Marinette broke the comfortable silence.

Adrien shrugged. “Not really. Well, there’s one thing. Father had one of his dinner parties and I think I made a new friend.” He turned his head to look at Marinette, a shy smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

“That’s great! Who?”

“Her name’s Chloé Bourgeois. Her father’s planning on running for mayor, and she’s… Mari, what’s wrong?” She’d sat up on the bed with a scowl.

“Chloé Bourgeois. She’s your new friend?” Marinette climbed off of her bed and down the ladder that led to the lower part of her room. Adrien followed her, brow furrowing.

“Yes?”

“This girl.” Marinette had opened a yearbook and she shoved it at him, jabbing a finger at the picture of a smug-looking girl in a yellow dress.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“You can’t be friends with her.”

He stared, expression slowly darkening. “Why not?”

“She’s the worst, Adrien! She’s mean and selfish and a bully, and all she cares about is her dad’s money and her clothes and her hair,” Marinette insisted. Adrien placed the yearbook on her desk and folded his arms.

“Have you ever actually gotten to know her? She’s not like that.” Sure, Chloé might’ve seemed a little self-centered or shallow, but she grew up with an influential father and the media scrutinizing her every move. She had to adapt in her own way. Adrien could relate.

“Have you actually gotten to know her?” Marinette countered. “You only met her once!” “So you can go to school and have other friends but I can’t make a friend unless you approve of her?” Adrien’s voice rose as he pulled out one of his father’s favorite words and felt his breath catch in his throat.

“It’s not like that at all!” she protested, stomping her foot in frustration. “I’m trying to protect you! You don’t get it—”

“What, because I’m shut up in my house all the time I don’t get other people? I don’t need your help or your protection, Marinette.” He turned his back on her, storming to the trapdoor on the floor. “You’re just jealous that Chloé’s more… more…” He couldn’t bring himself to say something irreversibly awful, fuming as he was. He turned back around, chewing on his lower lip. “I’ll prove you wrong. I’m gonna get to know her and prove that she’s a better friend than you are.”

She scoffed, face flushed scarlet and eyes shooting daggers. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

He lowered himself out of her sight and slammed the door behind him.

~

They were thirteen years old when she joined him in the spotlight of fame.

“One minute to go!”

“Thanks, I didn’t know,” Marinette said drily, her eyes never leaving the analog clock mounted above the main doors of the Agreste mansion.

“Mari, you’ll be fine. You just need to click a button a couple times to show off your amazing work and answer a few easy questions.” She couldn’t understand how Adrien was so calm. Then again, he wasn’t the one about to be released to a crowd of reporters.

Having been the youngest designer to have ever signed onto a partnership with the Gabriel brand, dozens of news outlets had been clamoring to interview her. Of course, it wasn’t an actual partnership in the official sense of the word. Marinette wasn’t considering starting her own brand quite yet, but some of her designs would be featured and released with Mr. Agreste’s company.

Nathalie had arranged a press conference for her, and she was now placating the reporters gathered outside the Agreste mansion while the Gorilla set up a screen for Marinette to debut a few of her designs.

“Easy questions like what?”

“Probably stuff like how you got interested in fashion, when you started designing, how my father discovered you, et cetera.” Marinette was too nervous to tease him for saying ‘et cetera’ aloud. “You’ll do great. And if anything doesn’t go perfectly, Nathalie and the Gorilla will be out there with you, and I’ll be right here.” She felt him squeeze her shoulder lightly. “You do want to do this, right?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” she breathed to Adrien for the hundredth time.

“Don’t thank me; Father would have reached out to you when he saw your designs even if you didn’t know me.” He’d also told her this about a hundred times, but she still found it hard to believe.

Before she could protest, the door cracked open, and Nathalie leaned her head into the foyer.

“You can come meet the press whenever you’re ready.”

Marinette squeaked and glanced at Adrien.

“Go ahead,” he beamed.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” she whispered, giddy with nerves and delight.

“It’s not luck, Mari. It’s talent.” His eyes were brimming with pride. Giving a solemn nod in return, she squeezed his hand and stepped out of the mansion to meet the flashing lights.

~

They were fourteen years old when he stopped talking to her.

He hadn’t checked his phone in six days. It sat on his desk, still plugged in and charging, buzzing occasionally to be completely ignored.

Adrien had hardly moved for six days. Stare at the ceiling, pick at the food Nathalie brings, stand under hot water in an imitation of a shower, ask to see Father to no avail, grapple with exhaustion versus the terror that if he fell asleep he would wake up to find everyone else gone. Repeat.

Were we not good enough for you? No, it hurt too much to entertain the possibility that his mother was gone because she had chosen to leave them. Then again, maybe that was better. Maybe if she’d simply left because she was sick of her husband and son and her life in this prison of a mansion, she was safe and happy and restarting her life somewhere else. Maybe that possibility was better than one where she was injured or in danger or—

Father said she wasn’t dead. In the few words he’d spoken since Arielle’s absence had been discovered and before he’d locked himself in his room, he’d made that clear with no room for debate. Arielle was simply missing. Which meant throwing money at the best resources in the world could bring her back.

Six days had passed. There’d been no news. Tomorrow, it would be a week since Adrien last saw his mother.

Adrien curled up on top of the covers of his bed as his phone began buzzing again. It was probably Marinette. Chloé had given up on contacting him a few days ago. He didn’t blame her.

He wasn't intentionally shutting them out. Lord knew he didn't have many people in his life already; the last thing he wanted to do was lose more of them. But he didn't want to hear condolences when he himself was still figuring out if he should mourn.

There was a knock at the door, and Adrien hated himself for momentarily hoping that it was his mother.

“Come in.” His voice was hoarse with disuse.

Nathalie walked in, carrying a gift box with her. Adrien sat up, the hollowness blanketing his every muscle and bone briefly receding as he took the box from her with a hint of curiosity.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng left this for you. She wanted me to tell you that she understands that you need space, but she’s there whenever you want to talk.” Before Adrien could stammer his gratitude, Nathalie left the room without another word.

Adrien lifted the top of the box, the smell of one the places he loved most in the world immediately wafting into his room. Inside, there was a small assortment of his favorite pastries from Tom and Sabine’s bakery. He still wasn’t hungry, but the sight of each handcrafted sweet brought him back to afternoons spent with Marinette, laughing over nothing and everything as they acted as official taste-testers. Something was stirring in his chest.

Separated from the pastries, there was another small box with a note attached.

Keep her close until she returns. You are never ever ever alone, Adrien. I’m here as soon as you’re ready. ♡

An oval silver locket rested on the padded lining of the box, and he opened it with a quiet snap. One window was left blank. A candid photograph of him and his mother was nestled in the other. Adrien had never seen the picture before; one of Marinette’s parents must have taken it that time they’d insisted on taking him and his mother on a trip to the mountains with them. He and his mother were talking about something with identical grins, her hand ruffling his hair. It was such a small photograph, but the love in her eyes was clear. Adrien closed the locket and held it to his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

He would rise above this. Grief would not take him like it took his father. This… this bad luck wouldn’t break him or dictate his choices.

He reached for his phone.

~

They were sixteen years old when she first kissed him—well, for real.

“I am so ashamed of us. We’ve known each other for, what, twelve years now? And it took us over a year for us to find out?”

Marinette shook her head in bemusement. “Guess we’re even more oblivious than our friends.” They were sitting on the low wall that bordered one side of her balcony, enjoying ice cream, the good weather, and their newfound knowledge that Ladybug and Chat Noir had known each other years before they’d received their miraculouses.

“To be fair, the miraculouses do mask your identities with more than just the physical mask. Magical interference is why facial recognition technology—and human facial recognition—doesn’t work. Unless there’s some big event or realization, miraculous holders usually find out their partners’ identities by telling each other,” Tikki piped up. She and Adrien’s kwami, Plagg, were sitting on the railing at the front of her balcony, each munching on their respective delicacies of choice and supposedly catching up. It looked more like bickering to Marinette, but apparently it was a typical heartwarming sibling reunion.

“So… a big event like me asking to borrow a pen from Adrien and finding a kwami in his bag.”

Plagg glared at Adrien. “So you’re the reason she interrupted my nap.”

“Hey, I was running on very little sleep and totally forgot you were in there,” Adrien said defensively. Marinette grinned.

“I’m glad you forgot. This is perfect, isn’t it?” She popped the remains of her ice cream cone into her mouth and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah. It’s so fitting that I still can’t believe we didn’t find out sooner,” he murmured. There was a soft crunching as he finished his own cone. He rested his head on hers. “Mari?”

“Yeah?” “I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it, but I’ve liked you for a while now.” She froze. Both of them straightened almost in unison, and she looked at him with wide eyes. Could he possibly mean what she thought he meant? The thought that her feelings for him might have been reciprocated…

“And I’ve actually been wanting to ask you out, but one thing was stopping me. I couldn’t sort out my feelings for you and Ladybug, because I liked her too. But now that I know you’re the same person… “ he let out a small, nervous laugh. “Do you want to go out with me sometime? As more than friends?”

Her brain was short-circuiting. “I—”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” Adrien rushed to say when she couldn’t get her mouth to blurt the answer she was screaming in her mind. “I don’t want this to change anything if you don’t feel that way about me. I’ll be fine if you don’t, please don’t feel obligated to—”

She stopped him. By pressing her lips to his.

Adrien made a little noise of surprise—or it might’ve been her; she didn’t know what had come over her—but he didn’t pull away, the touch of his lips soft and hesitant and making her feel more complete than she ever imagined such a simple gesture could. Her hands circled to rest behind his neck, and the kiss deepened, still gentle but full of a passion and honesty that had seemingly always been there, waiting for the right moment to ignite.

It felt like both an eternity and an instant later when she broke the kiss, their mouths remaining only a centimeter apart.

“I’d love to,” she said, a little breathless as she rested her forehead against his. “Sorry, was that okay?”

“My lady, I’ve wanted this for longer than you could ever know.”

Marinette thought she heard Tikki cooing.

She felt like the luckiest girl in the world, which she supposed was true. She was Ladybug, the superhero that embodied good luck. But this was so much more than that.

~

They were nineteen years old when he almost lost her.

Usually, finding out that your father was a supervillain was a devastating revelation. Adrien barely cared. As his father was whisked off by police to spend most likely the rest of his life behind bars, all he could think about was Marinette.

And the wound in her side that was wouldn’t stop gushing blood.

He stayed in the back of the ambulance with her, holding onto her as she drifted in and out of consciousness, then spent two nights waiting in the hospital before he was allowed to see her.

A nurse gave him a comforting pat on the arm, and opened the door for him to be reunited with his lady.

She was pale, her smile tremulous, but she was sitting up, and her lips were forming his name. Adrien choked on a sob and rushed to her side, his ears ringing.

“Marinette, Marinette, Marinette,” he whispered desperately, gripping her hands in his as if he letting go would result in her going cold and still and lifeless again.

“I’m okay, kitty. It’s over. Hey, we did it.”

“We defeated Hawkmoth. We saved Paris,” he agreed. They shared a glance, and then they were both laughing, wheezing giggles and clutching at each other in hysterical relief that the fight was finally won.

His father was a lost cause now, Marinette would have a scar across her torso for the rest of her life, and both of them would need an indeterminable amount of time to move past the ordeal of the final battle. But they had each other. They were going to be okay.

The doctors said it was a miracle she’d recovered, said she was lucky to be alive. Adrien knew luck had nothing to do with it. He knew his lady. She’d fought until she’d pulled through.

~

They were twenty one years old when she chose him forever.

It was really just for old times’ sake that they did this. With Hawkmoth gone, there were no supervillains to track and no akumas to watch out for, so patrols were largely unnecessary. Ladybug and Chat Noir could help prevent or stop a few small crimes here and there, but Parisian law enforcement was fairly adequate at its job. Thus, when the city’s favorite heroes could be seen darting across the rooftops at ungodly hours of the night, it was usually because they were taking a break from the stresses of university and adulting rather than being dutiful vigilantes.

Ladybug paused across from Chat’s dorm until she saw him leap out of his window and join her.

“Good evening, my lady. You look absolutely spot-tacular tonight,” he said with a sweeping bow.

“You will never outgrow that, will you?” She didn’t bother to keep the fondness out of her tone.

“No, Bugaboo, it’s a purrennial gift of mine.”

“Ooh, perennial? Someone’s been thesaurus-ing the hell out of an essay.”

Chat gave a gasp of mock offense. “I can use big words in my puns.” They set off at an easy pace, flipping from rooftop to rooftop in perfect tandem.

“Sure, kitty.” The end of her yoyo wrapped around a beam of the Eiffel Tower, and she tightened her grip before swinging over to their usual spot on the national landmark.

Chat Noir dropped down beside her. “My pun game is inimeowtable.”

“Mm, that one was definitely a stretch.”

Ladybug leaned against an iron beam, letting herself become lost in the expanse of the clear midnight sky. There was a full moon tonight, and it seemed if she reached out a hand her fingertips would brush its shining ivory surface.

A flash of green light interrupted her stargazing, and Ladybug turned to see Adrien detransformed and still standing dangerously close to the edge of the landing. 

“Hey, careful! What are you doing? If you fall—”

“I won’t. And you’d catch me.”

Ladybug watched curiously as Adrien took a deep breath.

“So, um. You know what else is inimitable? Perennial? You and me.”

She couldn’t stifle a giggle. “As much as I appreciate that, and I agree with you and love you and you know that… what?”

“Okay, maybe I should’ve thought this through a little more,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. But then he cleared his throat and dropped his hand, features turning serious once more.

“Mari, I’ve loved you for every second that I’ve known you. You were my first and best friend, and then my partner in… well, partner in stopping crime, and now… you’re so much more than that. You’ve been there for me whenever I needed you, and I hope I’ve been able to do the same. You understand me better than anyone else in the world, and I trust you, admire you, adore you more than anyone else in the world. I would do anything for you. And nothing would make me happier than to be able to spend the rest of my days with you.”

All mirth faded from her expression as he got down on one knee. A lump formed in her throat, and her hands shook as she brought them to her chest. She didn’t register herself detransforming until Tikki floated to her shoulder. Marinette met those green eyes that she had been enthralled by seventeen years ago, and she saw seventeen years of memories with the person closest to her soul reflected back at her.

“Marinette, will you marry me?”

The ring glittered under the glow of the moon. She felt tears prickling in her eyes.

“Yes,” the word rushed out. “Yes, oh god, Adrien, I—I love you too,” she cried, and found herself clutching at his hands to pull him to his feet. He slipped the ring onto her finger, then pulled her into his familiar embrace. Something clicked inside her.