#dorleing

Inspired by this post by the lovely @fragileizy

Adrien arrived earlier than usual at school, hoping to arrive before Marinette and Juleka. He was hidden in the tree in front of the school when they arrived hand in hand, with Rose too. Marinette was expressively trying to recreate a scene with Juleka’s hand still in her own. Juleka looked down on her with a fond and bemused expression. Rose was hanging on to her every word.

If Marinette seems this happy, should I really try to ruin that for her? It can’t be that bad if she loves him, right? NO! Bad Adrien! Cheating on your partner is not okay. Ladybug and Marinette don’t know about each other, I have to tell them.

“Hey, bro!” Nino’s shout startled Adrien, and in turn, his cat-like reflexes helped him land on his feet face. “Why were you in a tree staring at Mari like a creep?” Nino asked, helping Adrien off the ground.

“You know that she isn’t going to like it when she finds out, right?”

“If she finds out.” Adrien grumbled, brushing dirt off his pants. “Please don’t mention it?”

“Only if you come over this weekend for video games,” Nino said, fixing his cap and headphones.

“Deal,” Adrien and Nino shook on it, finishing with an elaborate handshake combo.

“Though that does beg the question of why you were doing that in the first place?” Nino gave Adrien the side eye. Adrien looked at his feet, weighing his options. He sighed.

“Okay, but you can’t mention it to anyone, especially her,”

Nino mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key, burying the trashcan, building a house over the can, and moving into the house.

“I don’t trust Luka with her.”

“WHAT?” Nino shouted, throwing his hands in the air and the whole school courtyard looked at the two of them. “Adrien, my bro, my main dude, what on LB’s Miraculous gave you that idea?”

Adrien was about to retort, but his suspicions had their private origins. He had to phrase this carefully around the civilians. Even his best bud.

“Is it the age thing? Cause that was dealt with ages ago, she’s sixteen and a three-quarters, he just turned eighteen, it’s not a big deal. If her parents are cool with it, I’m pretty cool with it. Everyone knows that.” Nino saw that Adrien still had on his pouty face^TM.  “Well, c’mon dude, spit it out so I can calm your fears, like the dad I am.”

“Well, Dad,” Adrien started with a smirk.

“Don’t use that tone against your father, boy,” Nino responded with a smile in kind.

“I don’t think he’s being truthful to her.”

Nino stopped in his tracks. He grabbed Adrien’s shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes.

“I don’t know if this is your jealousy speaking, but that boy is the most in-love person I’ve ever met. He looks more in love with Mari than Chat Noir does with Ladybug. He’s crazy for her. I going to give you the benefit of the doubt, dude, but let me warn you. I am not the only one you’ll have to face if you try to wreck her relationship.” Nino’s stare wasn’t his soft look^TM, but a firm and truthful one. Adrien couldn’t look away.

“But, um,”

“Look, man, I don’t know what to tell you, but until you have proof, I am disinclined to believe you. I trust Marinette’s decision, and you should respect it too. Besides, it’s none of our business who she chooses to date.”

The warning bell rung. The two rushed to class.

inspired by this post by the amazing @fragileizy

Ladybug and Chat Noir were on patrol (they were really just playing a really intense game of tag and seek), keeping Paris safe from all nighttime street criminals. They sat at the top of the Eiffel Tower, enjoying some pastries Ladybug had brought. In a way that was not cliché, at all, Chat Noir mentioned the topic of Valentine’s Day.

“It’s a day for lovers,” He said, winking. “But also for really good friends, and other people you want to show you care.” He procured a box of chocolates from his pockets, magical multidimensional portals they were.

“Thanks, Kitty,” Ladybug said, popping a chocolate into her mouth. As she bit down she moaned in delight at the expensive taste. Chat had a hard time looking away from her blissful expression.

“Will you be spending it with anyone in particular?” Chat asked, trying to act nonchalant and failing.

 “Mmm,” was her response. Swallowing, she said, “My boyfriend, Luka.”

Chat’s hammering heart stopped, and then quickened again. “Did you say Luka? As in Luka Couffaine?”

Ladybug paused, her anxiety spiked. “Uhmm, ah, you see, um, no? I said Lucas?” Her voice pleading and unsure. Chat couldn’t figure out her identity from a mistake as stupid as this!

“No, you said Luka! I heard you!” Chat said. Chat was concerned. His very good friend Marinette was dating Luka. She and Ladybug couldn’t be dating the same guy…unless… Luka was a two-timing bastard!

“Umm let’s forget I said any of this and OH BOY LOOK AT THE TIME I think I should be going home now to do him- I MEAN MY HOMEWORK HAHA I WOULD NEVER DO SOMEONE OUTSIDE OF WEDLOCK WHHAAATTT HAVE A NICE NIGHT CHATON!” Ladybug yelled and swung off into the night.

Chat barely processed what she said, still thinking about Luka. How amazing did one guy have to be to be dating the two most adorable, amazing, incredibly kind, determined, headstrong, fierce, beautiful, hard-working, freckled, blue-eyed, pig-tails being their preferred hairstyle, black-haired, smelling like cookies and peaches, insanely talented, very pretty, super cute, remarkable, marvelous, always ready to defend, selfless, great public speaker when the time calls for it, mind-bogglingly gorgeous, makes everyone in the room stop and stare kind of wonderful, take you aback, surprisingly stubborn, a jump to conclusions kinda gal, a real stand up gal, and absolutely miraculous women in Paris?

How dare Luka be cheating on not one of them, but both of them! Could he not see the heaven-sent gift to the world that these girls are? How unjustly selfish he was!

Marinette has never looked happier at school since she started dating that creep! And Ladybug has seemed happier too around the same time!

I must defend their honor! I will unmask Luka for what he truly is! A douchebag!

Decision made, Chat Noir took off in the direction of the Seine.

Approaching the Couffaine’s houseboat, he slowed, still determined in his task, but unsure in how to go about it. He knew from experience that messing around with love and Ladybug was never a good mix, and Marinette would beat the ever-living crap out of him if he just outright accused her boyfriend of cheating, ….without proof…

He decided to start gathering intel in the morning, as it really was very late.

A Castle on a hill, over-looking forest and field. Mighty is the king of this Castle, iron fist and merciless to his enemies. His exterior is imposing, and his dwelling reflects his image. Inside, paranoia and doubt spread ever forward, enveloping those living within. This king has many children, and no queens, as his method of reproduction is through other means. His wealth can afford him many things, but time is never one of them. So he hires the best of the best; governesses, tutors, instructors. His children are reared by these men and women from far off lands; etiquette and society sewn into their minds and bodies faster than the language of the land.

A traitor is beheaded. His family is never notified. His wealth joins the coffers, property belongs to the King. His children join the hoarde in the castle; his wife, the streets.

Gen is a dutiful Lady of the Castle. She follows her King’s orders:

1.       A Lady is to be accompanied by escorts at all times (being alone is a step closer to death at the hands of a stranger)

2.       Her meals are to be finished without complaint (a Lady must grow strong)

3.       She must learn everything from her lessons (to not hurt her teachers’ feelings)

4.       She must always stay in the Castle (never EVER venture into the woods my dear child)

5.       Listen and obey everything her King commands of her (EVERYTHING)

She follows this routine day after day, letting the Castle drain her of youth. She lets her attendants push and pull and shape her into a Lady. She does not complain when her hair is pulled up too tight and her shoes pinch. Maybe one day, her King will notice her efforts to please him. She is, after all, his most dutiful child. (One day, she will leave this all behind…)

The Castle is always bustling. There is always work to be done. The living don’t walk, they mill away, hour after hour. The halls are full of bustling skirts, a cloak that should have been removed at the door, a moving mass, pulling in all directions. Dishes clank and clatter. A prince is being escorted to the dungeons, his actions unfit for society. He’ll be back tomorrow in time for his lessons. (Gen will visit him tonight, and make sure her brother eats. This is only the second time they’ve talked to each other.)

The stares are harsh. The Castle always judges those within. The sconces peer, the archways observe, and the paintings, they are the worst of all. They follow. Even the statues spy on the living. (Gen wishes she were a statue.)

The living in the Castle always hurry. The living fear of time running out. The living carry the judgement of others. The living must keep one eye behind them, never knowing when they will be the next traitor.

Gen is swept away in the perfect storm of society. She waltzes through the judges, passing with her normalcy and perfection. She keeps her mind blank, never cracking her mask of diligent servitude.  She is grateful to her King for this opportunity of life. She will never wonder about meals or shelter, never worry over material matters.

She smiles ever wider. (She welcomes the thought of assassins.)

She lives a charmed life. If only she was paler, she could have it all. The King has strange tastes to want her as a child. (She wishes for the Castle to drain her skin of its color, as it drains everything else from her.)

Gen lets the arrangements be made for her. Her prince is more than thrice her age, he is already battle worn. (Gen knows of her own battle scars, hidden from view. Society would never approve.)

Gen lets her knight guards think she sleeps soundly. She stuffs her pillows to shape a child’s body in deep rest. She dresses in dirty linens, and leaves through the fireplace. (She has never welcomed the stifling heat of summer nights before.)

Gen has been training, letting her body and mind grow stronger, pushing against the restraints of society. She scales walls and ducks out of sight of patrolling protectorates. One last sprint across the field to the forest. The trees beckon in the moonlight.

The forest is quiet. Only the smallest of creatures with beating hearts judge, and only judge one’s intention towards them. The trees rustle, the wind being as it will. The rocks are solid and sound and silent. They stay and stand, ever present, unconditionally loving. (Gen never knew it would feel so nice.)

Gen breathes in the air of life, far from the reaches of humanity’s polluted skies.

The beings of the woods know a fellow child when they see one. She is welcomed home with open arms. Her burdens shed like onion skin with every step she takes on this path untraveled by humankind. (Never again will Gen consider herself human.)