#peonydee

[collected stream of reactions from twitter.]

[ image below : the most famous post-reveal fic in the ladynoir fandom.]

[the following are the most selected songs for post-reveal ladynoir : fan soundtrack playlist ]

Unbreak My Heart  - Toni Braxton [Jagged Stone Cover] Someone Like You - Adele 25 Minutes Too Late - Michael Learns To Rock I Don’t Have The Heart - James Ingram Someday We’ll Know - New Radicals I Can’t Make You Love Me - Bonnie Raitt How Can I Fall - Breathe Hello (From the Other Side) - Adele Story of Us - Taylor Swift I Will Always Love You - Whitney Houston This Masquerade - George Benson Not Over You - Gavin Degraw Yesterday Once More - The Carpenters I’ll Never Get Over You Get Over Me - Expose If You’re Not The One -  Daniel Bedingfield

[most reblogged fan theory/ship manifesto, with 65,437 notes, within a month after Alya’s Take.]

[alya’s addressed the fandom a week after her monumental interview,which can be seen in alya-reflects-ontakes.tumblr.com on a friday night]

June 21, 2024

Hey!

It’s been a hard week for everyone.

But I do think there’s a reason why they gave us those groundbreaking revelations on the 10th anniversary. As Tubby (@tubbstheconsumer , HEY! how’s your fic going? I’m still waiting ) said in her account, I do think it’s a way to reassure us that they’re going to be okay. While Ladyblog will always be the source for all news involving our favorite heroes, let us not forgot how this blog was first founded with one purpose: to uncover their identities. Let us remember how with the distinctive terror and havoc that Hawk Moth caused before his defeat, all of us have agreed for everyone’s safety to discourage the investigation. We didn’t want to give him any opening to destroy our only chance of survival.

Today, after a week of sorting out my thoughts, I finally realized that I had originally created this blog because of an unhealthy obsession to uncover something that might hurt my… no, our dearest friend, fellow Miraculers. Looking back through years of breaking news and exclusives, I’m ecstatic to be reminded of how the site evolved with a better, higher purpose:  to chronicle, to be living account of their adventures, from their birth, to their glorious victory over our common enemy, to their assumption of the vanguard.

I can no longer pinpoint when it was, but at some point, Ladybug’s identity ceased to matter anymore to me. Because Ladybug is someone larger than life, a deity we all can’t help put on a high pedestal, and it would be unfair to her civilian counterpart to put her in that same place, when she deserves to live her normal life. We should strive to give her as much of this normalcy as possible.  

The fact that they were willing to disclose that amount of information last Sunday was a sign of trust - not only to me, but to the entire world. They believe that we will be responsible enough not to probe further on who they were. It’s quite naive of them to do that, but we know where their hearts are. We know them. (And their answers were very vague to begin with. If anyone’s decided to delve further into this matter, good luck, I’ve tried.) Besides, I think that night was first time they were relaxed enough to finally share a bit of themselves. Don’t you think that’s a great thing? Again, it is in our hands to protect our beloved heroes, as they have painstakingly risked their lives for us.

I don’t think that they ever did discourage the LadyNoir fans (and other ships, crack or not. so keep your ship wars to a minimum.) If you think about it, Ladybug and Chat have been generous with them! They’ve even read fics, commented on the fanarts and meta-essays. (Either with their official accounts or as your stalkers 😜 )

Most of you have written and drawn fictional stories and moments about real people for years. They have never deprived you this place - the fandom - where you are welcome to build relationships and breed creativity, from fics, fanarts, and even memes (which Chat, the dork, actually loves the most) because they know it’s fiction. No one is stopping you from continuing your multi-chaptered fanfics and amazing fanarts. Ladybug and Chat are happy to serve as your muses. Let’s just not forget the real people, living real lives, behind your inspirations.

Besides, LadyNoir has always been an AU fic from the start.

If all the failed OTPs and fandoms of the past — the Zutara, the NaruSaku and the Harmonies — still exist now, we too are going to be alright.

LadyNoir still lives on. Don’t let it die.

June 17, 2024 at 02:44 AM Alya's Take After Party

For being the celebrant, Alya Césaire is notably silent throughout the party celebrating the tenth anniversary of her own show. It isn't that the party is boring; one of most coveted DJ’s in the Îll-de-France region is in charge of both the song list and emceeing. Even now, food and champagne still overflow from the kitchen and the bar, all the opulent details having been mandated by an avid patron in anticipation of a certain polkadotted heroine’s attendance. Chloé Bourgeois herself is absent, perhaps mourning the revelations of the night in her way, in private.

Alya isn't mourning. She doesn’t think she is, doesn't feel the despair and bone-aching loss she had a glimpse of earlier. She can't help but brood on the matter, however, as the special episode played in loop on all the TVs of the poolside bar area, muted but subtitled. Alya had finally left the indoor lounge area where the episode is also on loop, but with the sounds on and with the selected tweets, status updates, reddits, and tumblr reblogs scrolling at the sides and bottom of the 50-inch screen. She is sitting now in the rearranged sitting area where she had interviewed the duo earlier, watching her Nino groove nearby in between glancing at the blue shimmer of the pool water against the white walls.

For the last hour of the party, Nino has taken over the turntable, playing Alya’s favorite songs,  in her preferred arrangements no less, waving or sending flying smooches her way. He is extra gentle and understanding tonight, even taking over the socializing that she should have been doing. She smiles at him, at nothing really, when one of Jagged Stone’s hits plays, the one that defines all of what LadyNoir means to Alya.

Nino joins her after the party officially ends, sitting beside her on the couch that earlier sat Ladybug and Chat Noir. They watch the hotel staff clean up in silence. The doors to the indoor lounge are left open now to make it easier for the staff to move things back and forth the porter elevators. The interview still loops on the television there, Alya's own voice, interspersed with the steady voice of Ladybug and the more excitable one of Chat, wafts out into the small hours of the cooling summer night.

“Wouldn't have it been awesome if Adrien and Mari made it?” Nino says. “It'll still be a shame though, since Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn't stay for the party.”

“Yeah,” Alya agrees. “I really wanted Mari and Ladybug to finally meet. I mean, seriously, what kind of luck does that girl have that through ten years there is always something happening with her, elsewhere, that keeps her from meeting Ladybug. I don't get it.”

Nino chuckles. “But imagine how awkward it would be for Ladybug, meeting Adrien after choosing Jagged Stone over him. And admitting she had more or less gotten over her celebrity crush for him.”

“Please. They didn't even know they crushed on each other. But can you just imagine? Adrien and Mari are like the biggest Stoners. They'd probably end up fangirling with Ladybug and Chat Noir. It would have been the most ridiculous thing.”

“You know what the weird thing is, babe? Adrien’s been rescued by Chat Noir and Ladybug several times before. I've seen him with Ladybug in your video clips, but I've never seen him with Chat Noir.”

Alya frowns. “I've always thought it's because Ladybug beats Chat to it. Since Chat is so proud of his looks, it makes sense if he tries to avoid the de facto hottie of Paris.”

Nino shakes his head even as he leans closer and drapes an arm over his girl. “My point is, Chat Noir could have totally taken advantage of his link to Adrien. He obviously knows Ladybug used to crush on Adrien, but he never went there. You know what I'm saying?”

“Ugh!” Alya half-heartedly shoves at her fiancé. “Nino.”

“What?” Nino stares at her in confusion. “Babe--”

“I already can't get it out of my head as it is,” Alya bemoans. “Then you just had to go and remind me of how perfect they actually are for each other!”

“Can't get what out who?”

“That one tweet that said that it was only a ploy. And now that I’ve watched the whole thing completely, I can't get over how their answers complemented each other so well. They just belong together. I can't--”

“I know you hate it when I play devil's advocate. But hear me out, babe.”

“I know! I KNOW!” Alya grouses. “I know it's just wishful thinking on my part. I know I'm rationalizing things to fit my own wishes but--”

Alya stops abruptly. A pair of shadows catches her eye. What stands out most is that unlike the decreasing presence of the roving staff members, these figures are still.

“I thought they couldn't make it.”

“Who?” Nino asks.

"Ladybug and Chat."

"Where?" "There. Remember I told you Chat Noir is way too tired and that Ladybug is probably pushing him to go home and rest?" "Yeah, he looks like he's about to fall over when he's not busy acting like he has enough energy for a marathon."

As Alya strains at the newcomers, the drone of the interview video continues, “Can you spare us some honeymoon details?”

The two figures stand in front of the white wall from earlier, the reflection of the pool water making them surreal. The one with the pointy ears, presumably Chat, suddenly pulls against Ladybug’s arm, just as she skips the opposite way to avoid the overfilled food trolley barreling their way. The sudden opposing force of her movement should have knocked Chat off balanced. Instead, with practiced ease, Ladybug steps on the ball of her right foot, bouncing back to where her left foot was left. Chat Noir meets and steadies her with both hands to the waist. Ladybug finds her balance by clutching at his shoulders first before lifting one hand to pull down the cat’s ears and fix his unruly hair.

...pull down the cat’s ears?  Like a hood?

“The flower girl almost trips on a Chat Noir doll,” Ladybug says.

Marinette once told her that when Manon isn't around being her pesky teenage self, going on and on about her theater woes or begging for her former babysitter to design clothes for her guild’s marionettes, the Manon in her mind reverts back to being her pesky six-year-old self, begging Mari to allow her to take home the Ladybug and Chat Noir dolls.

“The crying red nosed groom,” Ladybug says.

Nino had once told her the truth behind the snivelling, red-face Adrien when Mari, who was quite a vision as a bride, emerged from behind the ancient cathedral doors. Apparently, he had a moderately bad allergic reaction to the flowers decorating his church wedding.

“Outside, afternoon.” Ladybug answers.

“Indoors, early morning” Chat Noir follows up,

It is not uncommon for couples to have two weddings; the civil ceremonies are usually held at the city hall, followed by subsequent church ones. Adrien and Mari had their civil ceremony amidst the last of the crimson azaleas and the beginning buds of the lavender wisteria in a small charming garden within the city hall grounds. It is usually open to public on weekends, but was closed for a few hours one Saturday last May as a favor to the former Mayor Bourgeois.

Presently, the always tardy couple comes to full view as the food trolley ambles away, once more unobstructing the full force of lighting around the pool area.

Alya is losing her mind.

Even from their distance, it's obvious why Adrien Agreste had to bail out of the party. He yawns and stretches hugely (limbs splayed out, no muscle unused) before he attempts to pull his hoodie back in place. His companion takes his hand instead and tugs him to where Nino and Alya are sitting. Adrien drops back to a boneless state, a wildflower hunched over from lack of sun or water, and staggers after the woman. Marinette Dupain-Cheng, dressed in a light leather jacket of sienna red and closely cut black jeans, turns once more as if to primp her forlorn flower pet. Even now that they're both standing closer, Alya can see why she initially thought her guests of honor had returned for the after after party. The slim young man is obviously hamming it up, pouting forlornly at his partner, even as he shoves a hand under his glasses and rubs an eye. The lithe young woman tuts him into stillness, takes his spectacles and cleans it on his shirt. Now, Adrien is polite but usually reticent, as if careful to not call attention to himself, and Marinette isn't someone one will normally call graceful, and yet here they are moving in concert, moving with such knowing ease in response to the other.

How did she miss this?

“Hey, buddy!” Nino calls out, verily launching himself from where he is ensconced with Alya and sprinting to where his best friend is. “Nice of you to drop by.”

Chat’s downtrodden frown upturns instantly.

Adrien’s wilted posture instantly perks up, his smile lighting up even the darkening ruts under his green eyes, rescuing his complexion from its ashen cast. The worry emanating from Marinette seem to drop away just as the two friends quickly embraced.

“Wouldn't have missed it for the world, man!” Adrien is saying as Nino moves to exchange greetings with Mari. “I told you I’d catch up!”

“Alya said you had to have dinner with your father like straight out of the airport. Hope it wasn’t too awkward?”

“Well, it is Father’s Day… And you know how Father adores my lovely bride. For good reason, of course.”

“You guys were making out, weren't you? Like in the car on the way here?”

“Excuse us, we walked,” Marinette says primly.

“Made out in shadowy street corners, then. Or had quickies in haunted little alcoves.”

“Nino!” Alya strangles in spite of herself. “That's my best friend you're talking about!”

“You walked? Haven't you had enough of that the entire week?”

“We missed walking around Paris after all the walking we did in New York City,” Adrien says with a catty grin. “Actually, we belatedly took up Chloé’s offer of a room. It wasn't a bad walk to the elevators.”

“Not if I have to spend days poking and prodding and explaining things to people that aren't my husband.”

Oh, Alya thinks. New York Fashion week. Mari had told her that Adrien walked for a few fashion houses, then fulfilled some shooting assignments Nathalie has squeezed in so they can have a longer break after. Mari herself worked with the Gabriel entourage, prepping the models through all of the events and making last minute adjustments on the clothes.

“Congratulations, Mademoiselle Césaire.”

Chat Noir bends a little from his waist and kisses her knuckles.

Ever the gentleman, Adrien shakes Alya’s hand and waits for her to initiate a quick hug and exchange of kisses. Alya stops him as he moves away, sniffing.

“You smelled that too, babe?” Nino says, an insinuating smile playing on his lips. “They probably did more than make out in this hotel’s honeymoon suite, just a couple of floors below where we are now. How dare you betray my feisty Alya?”

Adrien smells of fresh cucumber and melons, a hint of musk, and unmistakably a generous dose of muguet blossoms. He wouldn't have ordinarily been caught in such a casual attire in a public place, with his jeans and shirt, with his hair loose under the hoodie, instead of its usual small but neat ponytail. His expression is mysterious, eyes vivid but undecipherable, as he hands Alya over to his wife of three weeks.

“Alya,” Marinette greets her with a soft smile. “Sorry we're late.”

Like her husband, Mari looks quite exhausted, with locks of dark hair starting to escape from the single braid coiled atop her head. She stays quite still as Alya kisses her soundly on both cheeks then pulls her to a hearty hug. Alya inhales deeply, a little less conspicuous than what she did with Adrien. Marinette smells of the dewy blossoms of the lily-of-the-valley.

Marinette smells like Ladybug. Maybe they have the same perfume. Thousands of Parisian women, women all over the world must wear the scent of a common flower. And yet…

“God,” Alya gasps, hands trembling as she grips Mari’s arms tightly. How could she be so blind? All this time? Why...

“Why now?”

“Now? Aside from it’s safer with the threat almost gone?” Green eyes gleam, comparable to a cat calculating the risk before making a leap. “Of course, Alya, we owe this to you. You deserve to know.”

“How about Nino? Is it okay for him...” Alya glances at his befuddled ‘what?’ expression.

“This was the first lesson we learned to make our relationship work.” Adrien grins, so infuriatingly familiar that Alya wants to scream in horror at why she didn’t realize it sooner. “You can't start your married life with a secret.”

“Besides,” Marinette laughs, smiling through the unshed tears. “This is a better wedding gift, right? Better than another serving tray?”

One day, they’ll ask me about the truth, and I won’t be able to lie.

“I guess,” Alya admits. “There's no need for you to tell me how it all worked out with that guy, huh, Ladybug?”

But I just want them to know that I’m lucky to have them in my life.

“You always get the exclusives first, Alya.”

FIN `

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see? not canon.

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omake #1 - the telling to nino

nino: oh shit

alya: exactly

nino: oooh shit! *suddenly and enthusiastically thumps adrien in the back* you da man!

adrien: ??? *flowerchild smile* thanks?

nino: wow. chat noir

mari: ahahahaha

nino: chat noir actually scored on ladybug!

adri & mari: ............

nino: babe, I owe you an apology

alya: that's right. pay up!

alya: *breaks 4th wall, faces audience* all of you, pay up!

non-existent audience: but we're also ladynoir!