#ml fics

nobody does it like you do, telmes (@telmes) (t)

Emilie's gaze slides to her. "Nathalie, darling, settle this. Is my husband a terrible host or just a terrible artist?" Gabriel's jaw tightens. "Emilie." "Both," Nathalie says at the same time.

this is thesis after thesis line for me. when I think sangreste, I think about this fic.

(you're going to see a lot of telmes because they're not only probably the top writer in terms of quantity, but like. read one or two fics (I have all of thank you for saying sorry bookmarked) and I think you'll feel similarly in style alone. I'll right now suggest sorry for this fucking mess & and yet.)

an affair, LuckOfADraw (Mirime) (g)

A story about how tabloids can get some things right but still miss the mark completely.

before we had a name; it's like, second in the date chronologically. it's practically everything to me for those reasons -- and then, it's just effortlessly sweet and a nice slice of life.

the pain of the lover, nemali (@nemaliwrites) (g)

GABRIEL: I could feel your sadness. Your rage. Your grief. But I couldn't feel the reason behind it. What were you crying about, Nathalie? With each word, he takes a step toward her. The spotlight, however, remains where he was standing. For the first time, we can see the painting on the wall. — A drama in one act.

nemali had the audacity to talk sangreste to me and then transmogrify every ounce of them into exactly what my dreams were made out of. whatever. it's cool. endlessly in love with her but whatever!! another thesis fic. for me.

nicked by the razor, pamplemousses (@marinette-sky) (m)

A faint memory of her father flashed in her mind, the one where he was drilling into her about the hazards of becoming expendable. Another memory intruded, more recent as it took place a few days ago; Nathalie had shared a bed tent with Gabriel and Emilie. Emilie had taken her arm hostage in her slumber, snuggling it as one would a beloved stuffed animal. Gabriel had been curled around his wife at the time, his arm slung across her middle while his fingertips ghosted the exposed skin of Nathalie’s wrist from the latter’s disturbance. She risked a peek at their sleeping faces, wanting so wantonly to caress them with the fondness she buried in her heart. Dying alone sure was lonely when you had people you loved that were none-the-wiser.

not a day goes by without me thinking about the hotel scene. <3 such an incredible expansion and such a gift honestly!!

pure as ice, bright as snow, phoenixwriting (@crownlina) (g)

8-year-old Adrien Agreste has an amazing morning with his family when he wakes up and finds the mansion covered in snow.

so, so sweet. fun characterization and scenario and it's like, chicken soup for the soul.

on the bias, ehmazing (e)

The Agrestes used to travel for business. Nathalie used to go with them.

best fic I could never reread. smoking my mental cigarette.

red, orange, yellow, ketenn (e)

The Miraculous shaped them into a family. Then it took away everything.

the line about the two of them being cold........ yeah.

honorable important mention:

@papoochu's peeling back the layers series. while I have not read it yet, papoochu's sangreste contributions can't go unnoticed. all of their attention to detail when it comes to not only sangreste's humanity but the whole cast and expanded universe..... super cool and admirable.

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placidity, mostmagical (@mostmagical) (m)

Nathalie still dreams of Emilie.

I am not sure I'll ever achieve the level of sensuality and breezy sexuality as: "There’s the cool press of arms, wrapping around bare waist, softer than silk, smoother than the placid surface of an untouched lake. Nathalie sinks into them, sinks beneath the welcoming surface. The lake takes her, warm and inviting, filling every sense—her mouth, her nose, the tips of her fingers as she traces them along the mirrored underside."

but like. I guess we'll all keep trying! love you nicole.

the easiest thing in the world, nemali (e)

Spread out on Gabriel’s desk, Nathalie learns her place.

cure era gabenath AND contentious, righteous eminath. it's the best thing in the world.

hello, emilie, azalera (@azalera) (g)

In a world without Emilie Agreste, Nathalie Sancoeur finds an unusual way to cope.

I'm not ashamed to admit I read this when I need a good cry. also should mention: she doesn't need me, not like I need her. both of these are v special to me.

expensive mistakes, anonymous (t)

Commanded by her boss to look after his fiancée, Nathalie finds herself taking care of Emilie's minor inconveniences. This is a much less ornery task than it has any right to be.

hi, anon. this prompted me to post about how much it meant to me to trawl through the eminath tag and reach back into time to connect with fics like this. such a simple vignette meant the world to me. happy this was posted and happy it's still up.

a grain of truth, LuckOfADraw (Mirime) (g)

Nathalie loves Adèle. Adèle loves Gabriel. Nathalie doesn't care (it's a lie).

extremely fun and just the type of gabenath connection I love to see.

i want you there when i die, auroraslights (g)

They sat by each other and they slept, touched the skin on their faces and arms. It was something they knew they couldn’t live without. But Nathalie knew she would have to someday. “I want you there when I die.“

do NOT touch me when speaking about emilie dying. and that end? perfect.

summer itch, aidanchase (@aidanchaser) (t)

Emilie taught Nathalie a trick for dealing with itchy bug bites; she taught Adrien, too.

the end is not only a gorgeous, gutting punch to the stomach, but the mere gravity of their connection, the palpable desire and intensity and underlying friendship............ whew. yeah. yeah!!!

you should read silver, as well.

bread and oranges, peachcitt (@peachcitt) (t)

Before Emilie, Nathalie had never really been in love. She hardly even knew what love was. But then Emilie was throwing herself on top of Nathalie at three in the morning, alcohol riding her exhales, her teeth stained red with wine, and Nathalie felt something so awful and strong in her chest that she felt nearly certain that that was it - that was love. or it’s about the yearning

DON'T TALK TO ME!!!! DON'T TOUCH ME!!! She would leave the mansion at night, and she would look up at all the empty rooms and dark windows, and she’d remember Emilie’s dream to have a little house bursting with laughter and love. crazy insane she wakes up alone. ok ok ok. emilie, adrien, and nathalie laying together just. breaks me.

you push me down, telmes (g)

Nathalie shivers and that makes Emilie laugh. “Are you going to stay?” Nathalie feels the need to ask. Deep inside, she already knows the answer. Emilie’s smile never drops. “I can’t.”

another fic i sometimes, oftentimes, can't bring myself to reread. I only have one heart, ok.

lamplight, pamplemousses (m)

Emilie Graham de Vanily was ever so fond of things that bumped in the night. Nathalie Sancoeur happened to be one of them.

while I love all of this fic, you must know that sometimes I reread just for the sensuality and sweetness of the end. the head scratching... the yearning....

love like you, Knight_Of_Breath (g)

The house is too large. It always has been, always will be. So, despite having been here his entire life, Adrien is surprised to find something else he never knew about this house. Even if it was as simple as a small box stashed away in the depths of Adrien's closet.

well. the thing is that I started rereading this piece for this list and I started tearing up. so.

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over a small earthquake, nemali (m)

If there was one thing Nathalie was confident about—arrogant, some might say, and she wouldn't have disagreed—it was that she knew Gabriel. Knew him like the back of her hand, inside out, forward and backward, and everything else under the sun.  But then, he starts watching her sleep.

hey so my history says I've read this over 60 times. the mutual understanding. the gutter groveling the both of them do. how he touches her. insane. love.

sorry for dreaming, telmes (m)

she takes (and takes, and takes) everything he wants to give her.

this and thanks for strangling me to death, i guess? are very foundational to me. personally.

ressens mon envie, argentskyflower (@silver-hibiscus) (e)

“You know what to do,” Gabriel says, steel underneath those soft words. Nathalie falls to her knees.

what can I say. the characterization is up my alley and I love a good, silent understanding type of gabenath.

nevertheless she persisted, seedubs (t)

By design a business should be the sum of moving parts; a solitary looking grandfather clock that’s actually run by hundreds of cogs. But Gabriel was a sundial, and Agreste was both the stone and the shadow that it cast.

love the bantering here, absolutely fantastic portrayal of nathalie imo.

on the steps of the palace, logically_asexual (@logically-asexual) (g)

Nathalie is her father’s unpaid assistant and goes with him to a event full of corporate people. Gabriel is there to seek funding for his new business. They meet here for the first time.

this is soooooo so so cute. I love this image of them and this young nathalie, as well as the glimpse into gabriel and emilie in the bg... eep!

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a girl and a gun, telmes (t)

there's a gun staring her in the face.

I think this and thanks for strangling me are like, great cursed emilie and gabriel studies.

the silence grief leaves behind, dramaloversdream (t)

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tastes like apple juice and peach, bittersweetResilience (@bittersweetresilience) (g)

Nathalie and Amélie share a quiet moment, after everything.

fic that launched a three year friendship!!!! when I think amenath, this is the fic I reference in my mind. it's about the healing. it's about forgiveness.

and if you saw my love (you’d love her too), orphan_account (e)

“Just let me take care of you for once, okay?” Amelie’s gaze was filled with so much love that it was almost overwhelming. And maybe, just this one time, it was okay for her to let go.

my emotional support amenath fic!!!!

so long, london, mortate_ratatouille (g)

Nathalie is trauma dumping she is angry at Gabriel and her father. Confused about Adrien. In love with Amelie

the end...... guts me....

such as we are made of, such we be, @thetardisisnotourdivision (t)

A frantic Felix appeals to Ladybug for help when his grandparents force Amelie to start 'courting' again. Luckily, Ladybug has two things; a Nathalie who owes her something and a hare-brained scheme. Under the name 'Samuel Allard', Nathalie is to infiltrate the Graham de Vanille household and win Amelie's hand in marriage. That's the entire plan. Ladybug's whole plan is literally just to stick Nathalie in a suit and hope for the best. Luckily, neither Nathalie nor Amelie are even mildly reluctant. In fact, they seem to leap at the chance to play as lovers. There's just one complication - the Council are on Nathalie's back, and if they find out, what began as a ridiculous love story could end in death.

absolutely LOVING this so far. the chicanery, the shenanigans, the masc nathalie!!! let's fucking go!!!

people say i'm jealous, but my kink is karma, telmes (t)

“I should go,” Amelie says without looking up. Her voice is raw, splintered. Nathalie exhales, a slow, measured thing. “I know.” And yet neither of them move.

it's about forgiveness it's about healing it's always about... emilie.

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bonus bonus!! nathalie character studies I've loved:

The Villain I Appear to Be, noble_nook

sorry for being late, telmes

Missing, @nicodemoon

Marinette puts her hands on her hips. “That was supposed to be for Rose’s party.”

He manages to swallow. “I’m sure she’ll survive with only nine hundred ninety-nine cupcakes instead of a thousand. Besides, don’t you want to hear my verdict?”

“Fine. How are they?”

Gently, he settles his hands on her waist. “Amazing. Because you made them. And everything you do is amazing, milady.”

She allows him to draw her closer, till there’s hardly any space left between them. “If you’re trying to be suave, it’s not working. You have frosting on your mouth.”

“Well, feel free to have a taste test.”

She huffs a laugh. “You’re so annoying.”

“Oh, bugaboo. It’s pronounced ‘alluring.’”

“Cut it out with the bugaboos and miladys. You’re gonna give your identity away, and then Master Fu really will take our miraculous.”

He brings his face close to hers, so that their noses are almost touching. “He could never. You heard him. We’re the perfect partners. The dream team.”

She glances at his lips. “That’s … that's not what he said.”

“Close enough.”

He closes the gap between them, capturing her lips with his. Her arms come up to drape around his shoulders, and his own arms tighten around the small of her back.

"Adrien," she murmurs, sighing against his mouth. Then her lips slant against his again, and he’s lost in her.

Marinette is his favorite person, and pink is his favorite color.

Pink like pastries and cotton candy and bubble gum.

Pink like the frosting she kisses from his lips. Like her hands in his hair and his name on her breath. Like her cherry-blossom cheeks and her sunrise smile.

Pink like her heart, in perfect sync with his.

“I love you,” he whispers.

She pulls back, studying his face, like she’s committing it to memory. Her eyes are bright and focused—the way they are when she’s trying to figure out her lucky charm. Like she’s somehow looking at him and in him and through him, all at once.

“I love you too,” she says (pink, like a rose), and the words are washed in red.

They’re the same color, really. He knows that now. Tints of the exact same hue. Ladybug was always pink, and Marinette was always red, and now, with all the pieces drawn together, he can finally recognize all the shades that make her up—from crimson to coral, scarlet to strawberry, and everything in between.

She pulls him back in, lips warm against his, and he can feel her dye him from the inside out, all her colors bleeding through him till his very bones are stained with them. Till he feels them singing through his veins and swelling in his lungs. Till he feels like he might burst with it—his favorite color, the color of her heart.

“Oh, how cute!” Lila crooned, and Marinette’s heart went from her throat to her stomach. “Marinette, you have a crush on Luka? That’s so sweet! Don’t you think so, Adrien?” She waved the open notebook in Adrien’s direction. He stared back blankly for a moment and then smiled. 

“I think it’s great. Luka’s a great guy.” 

“Oh, how sweet,” Mylene said, clasping her hands before turning to grab Ivan’s hand. “Don’t you think so? They’d make such a cute couple!”

“But I thought Marinette liked—” Kim began, before Alya shoved an elbow in his gut. “Ow!”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Ivan agreed cheerfully, oblivious. 

Alix took the notebook from Lila and looked at it, then groaned. “Come on, Marinette, you couldn’t go five minutes without a new crush? Can you please just confess this time and save us all a lot of suffering?”

Marinette’s face burned, and she leapt up the steps to snatch the notebook back from Alix. She darted a glance at Juleka, who was staring silently, her visible eye round and her hand hovering in front of her mouth. Rose had her hands clasped by her cheek, obviously lost in romantic daydreams. 

“Who’s Luka?” Kim asked, scratching his head. “Do we know him?” 

“That’s your brother, right Juleka?” Lila drawled, turning innocent eyes to look at Juleka before she laid a thoughtful finger to her lips. “I hope that doesn’t bother you. I’m sure Marinette wouldn’t make friends with you just to cozy up to your brother.” 

Juleka looked paler than usual and mumbled something incoherent.

“Well, it’s time for me to head home,” Marinette declared, her voice higher pitched than usual as she grabbed her bag and shoved the notebook inside, along with the other belongings Adrien and Alya had gathered up for her. “I’ll see you all tomorrow, hahaha! Bye!” 

She fled the classroom, ignoring Alya’s calls for her to wait. She didn’t want to talk about this with anyone right now, not even Alya. Not until she’d had a moment to herself to think.

She ran all the way to the bakery and straight up to her room. She closed the trap door and sat on it, burying her hands in her hair as she muffled a scream into her knees. 

Tikki popped out of her purse and came to pat her arm. “I’m sure it’ll be okay, Marinette. Nobody told Adrien about your crush for the longest time! I know you’re embarrassed but—”

“No, no, Tikki, you don’t understand,” Marinette moaned. She moved into a cross-legged pose and grabbed her bag, digging through it until she pulled out the dark blue notebook that had caused all the trouble. “This isn’t mine,” she said, flipping open the cover to show the name there to Tikki. “It’s Luka’s .” 

Tikki just floated there, seemingly speechless. Marinette opened the notebook. It fell to the same page in her hands as it had in the classroom.

Artwork by @rierse

Despite her distress, Marinette couldn’t help but smile. She never would have guessed Luka was a doodler. It made sense, though, he was so used to his guitar that she could imagine he needed something to do with his hands when he couldn’t play. 

He’d clearly been working on something at first; the carefully drawn staffs on the page had music notes and various notations, but he must have gotten bored because halfway down the page his music notes turned into little hearts. Then below that was…her name. Marinette blushed, tilting the cover of the book up just a little so that nobody could see over the top of it. She was alone, of course, nobody was there to look but Tikki, who already knew, but—she felt suddenly self-conscious, looking at her name surrounded by hearts and music in Luka’s notebook. She couldn’t even attempt to convince herself that he might mean some other Marinette, since a passable imitation of her signature flowers were doodled next to the name, the centers accented in pink glitter pen. That made her giggle a little bit. 

“You know he likes you, Marinette,” Tikki reminded her, pointing to some familiar words at the bottom of the page. Clear as a music note, sincere as a melody… Tikki sighed at the memory, and Marinette smiled self-consciously. 

There were other little doodles, too. There was a picture of Sass, his Kitty Section mask (the lightning bolt done in that same pink glitter pen), and…a little face with pigtails. More flowers. The ladybug doodle made her pulse jump, but she reasoned he had been thinking about heroes, since Sass was there too. It didn’t mean anything. 

And there in the middle of the page, Marinette Couffaine , written with little hearts around it.

Marinette hid her face in the book and groaned. “What am I going to do?” she whispered. She had found the notebook under her chaise, and had meant to give it to Juleka at school to return to Luka, but of course she couldn’t manage even something that simple without the universe deciding to screw with her. 

Her phone pinged, and Marinette set the notebook aside to pull it out and tell Alya to leave her alone.

The message wasn’t from Alya, though. It was from Luka. 

Hi Marinette. Juleka told me what happened. I’m so sorry. Can we talk? 

Marinette bit her lip, and fidgeted as she thought it over. Finally, she texted back, I think that would be a good idea. Can I come over in a bit?  

***

Luka was pacing the living room, chewing on a thumbnail, when Marinette came down the Liberty’s stairs. Marinette thought she had never seen him so nervous. Juleka was nowhere to be seen, but the door to their cabin was closed. 

“Marinette, I’m so sorry,” he began as soon as he saw her, and whatever embarrassment she still felt over the whole thing was instantly buried under concern for him. He was pale and his hair was mussed. “I never meant—” 

“Luka, it wasn’t your fault,” Marinette interrupted. “You left it in my room and I put it in my bag so Juleka could bring it back to you. It’s not your fault I’m clumsy. It was just bad luck. And then Lila had to go and grab it and wave it around in front of everybody. I’m really sorry.” 

“It is my fault,” Luka insisted. “I shouldn’t have been so careless with it. And I shouldn’t—” He stopped, putting a hand over his face. 

“Shouldn’t be a normal teenager?” Marinette asked teasingly, slipping her arm through his and tugging him over to the couch. “Luka, after all the embarrassing things I’ve done in the name of a crush, I’m the last person to judge you.” 

Luka sighed as he let her coax him to sit with her. “Still, it’s different when it’s about you . I mean, when you see someone writing those things about you. Especially when everybody sees.” He bit his thumbnail again and grimaced. “I started painting my nails so I would quit doing that,” he muttered, rubbing his finger over the chipped polish on the abused thumbnail. 

Marinette took his hand and tried to think of some way to make him feel better. She pulled the notebook out of her bag and set it on the couch between them. “Really, I’m not mad. Except that you never told me you could draw,” she teased. “You did a pretty good job on the flowers.”

She was delighted to see his cheeks tint pink and his eyes come up to meet hers at last. “I’ve had a bit of practice,” he admitted with a shamefaced grin. “And you wear them on practically everything, so…” Luka shrugged, ducking his head a little further. “I’ve seen them a lot,” he finished lamely, and then groaned and buried his face in his hands. Now that he was reassured that she wasn’t angry at him, embarrassment seemed to be taking over. 

“Just kill me,” he muttered, with something so like a whine that Marinette had to giggle. 

“How many times have I said that to you,” she teased, bumping his shoulder with hers. “And you never did. Now you can suffer.” 

Luka laughed and dropped his hands from his face, only to put them both in his hair and ruffle it vigorously, tugging at it a bit before he finally let them drop in his lap. Marinette bit her lip; his cheeks were still pink and his ears were flaming . It was kind of adorable. 

“Any more questions?” he asked, with a sigh.

“The pink?” she asked shyly, and Luka shrugged, looking away though he grinned.

“Rose is always leaving stuff on the boat. I’ve got a few of her pens that got mixed up in my things, and I never remember to give them back. They’ve actually come in handy in class a couple times when I wanted to mark an important note.”  He drew a slow breath in, and let it out, fingertips tapping together between his knees. “I’m really sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he said in a rush. “I—I mean, you know, how I feel about you. And this,” he gestured with the notebook and then tossed it aside. “It’s just daydreams. I obviously never meant for you to see any of that, and—” 

Marinette put a hand on his arm, cutting him off. “Luka, don’t apologize for your private thoughts. I’m sorry that me seeing them has made you feel bad.” Even if he was kind of adorable, unusually flustered and…vulnerable. She felt a pang of conscience; Luka put so much of himself out there, and it must be absolutely mortifying for the things he chose to keep to himself to be exposed like this. 

“They, um.” She cleared her throat and twined her fingers together in her lap. “They all thought I did it. Wrote that stuff, I mean. My, um. My name like that. With yours. We don’t have to tell anyone it was you.” 

Luka looked at her sharply. “But—” he began, and Marinette didn’t want to hear what she knew he was going to say. 

“No, seriously, it’s fine.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t mind. If everyone knows I like you. And that I’m over Adrien now. I’m okay with that.” 

Luka stared at her. 

Marinette cleared her throat. “I mean,” she began, and her voice trembled a little. Luka grabbed her hand, and she went on quickly, “I would look a lot less stupid if we were dating. Instead of another pointless Marinette crush. Just, um. Putting that out there.” 

“Then I guess,” Luka said slowly, like he still wasn’t sure what was going on, “We better go on a date. Wednesday?” 

Marinette giggled. “Friday would be more traditional.” 

“Couffaine,” he reminded her, squeezing her hand. “Besides, I can’t wait that long. I’ll meet you at the steps?”

Marinette nodded. “You better hold my hand. You know, so people will see.”

“I can do that,” he agreed. “I think letting go might be harder though.” 

“Well, you have until Wednesday to figure out how to explain that to my parents,” Marinette giggled, and Luka laughed, a full, rich laugh that was a little higher pitched than usual. 

“This can’t be happening,” he muttered, running his free hand through his hair. 

Feeling unusually bold, Marinette leaned up and cupped his cheek, and pressed her lips to his. He made a noise that she could only call a squeak and she giggled against his lips. 

“That was not convincing,” he said breathlessly, eyes bright and focused entirely on her in a way that made her shiver. 

Marinette grinned. “You try it then.” 

He pounced on her, both hands curling behind her head, and kissed her until she was dizzy from it, before finally sitting back to look at her in wonder. 

“See?” Marinette teased, turning her face into one of his palms. “You let go after all.”

“Did I?” he asked, grinning from ear to ear. “It doesn’t feel that way.” 

They both turned to look as the door to Luka and Juleka’s bedroom creaked open. Juleka peeked out, and seeing them so close with Luka’s hands on her face, and probably both smiling like idiots, she came all the way out.

“So when’s the wedding, Marinette Couffaine?” she mumbled shyly, but with a teasing grin growing on her face..

Luka threw the notebook at her, and she dodged, cackling. The siblings flipped each other off as Juleka went up the stairs, and Luka turned back to Marinette.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said, fighting a grin. “I’m totally negotiable on the name thing.”