#write val write

A sudden noise interrupted them, making the two glance in the direction from whence it came. Noticing it was her phone with a notification, the designer picked it up to see that Alya had texted her.

“I wonder what Alya wants this early,” Marinette said with a sidelong glance to her Kwami. Tikki gave her a shrug, just as confused as the girl sitting beside her.

Ladyblogger: hey gurl wat up?

                      R u excited about 2day’s project?

MDCDesigns: Yas!

                        I can’t wait 2 c who I’m partnered with!

Ladyblogger: Whoa!

                      Ur awake!

                      Wait, y r u awake?

MDCDesigns: Couldn’t sleep.

Ladyblogger: That sux    

                      So…

                      Who do u think ur partner is gonna b?

MDCDesigns: idk

                       But I hope its not Chloe

                       Or Lila

Ladyblogger: y not Lila?

MDCDesigns: sorry Als,

                       No offense

                       but...

                       I don’t trust her on a project this big

Ladyblogger: gurl.

                      I don’t know what ur issue is wit Lila

                     but u need to stop being jelly of her

“How did this get turned into me being jealous of her?” Marinette asked out loud, turning to face the little red embodiment of Creation with wide eyes.

Turning back to her text conversation, the dark-haired girl furrowed her brows as she tried to get her point across to her supposed “best friend”.

“Another stellar conversation for the scrapbook,” the dark haired girl quoted with a sigh as she began typing again.

MDCDesigns: I am NOT jealous of her, Als!

                       I just don’t trust her.

Ladyblogger: so you say gurl

                      I’ll see u in class

“Another stumble as I’m reaching for the right thing to say,” she muttered quietly with a shake of her head, dismayed at the direction the conversation had taken. “I’m kinda coming up empty, can't find my way to you...”

MDCDesigns: yeah...see u

With a sigh, Marinette exited the text messaging program, checked the time, and slipped her phone into her handbag. It was still pretty early for her to head to school, but she figured that there was a first time for everything.

“It's a ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ kind of day, isn’t it, Marinette,” Tikki commented as she phased into the bag, giving her holder a sympathetic look as she did.

“Oh, Tikki,” the designer said with a humorless chuckle, pinching the bridge of her nose as she headed towards her trap door. “It most certainly is!”

Her parents were surprised to see their perpetually late daughter up and about so early.

”Marinette,” her mom called out before the girl could make her escape. ”We’re going to need you to help out after school today. A big order came in that your father and I need your help to take care of for tonight.”

The dark-haired girl stifled a grimace. She normally didn't mind helping out in the bakery, but today wasn't exactly a normal day.

”I would, Maman, but I'm being assigned a big group project at school today, and I'm not sure when the due date is yet,” Marinette said tactfully.

”I know that your schoolwork comes first, dear,” Sabine countered gracefully as her husband lumbered over to join the pair. ”However, we really could use your help. It would only be for about an hour, give or take.”

It was the give or take that worried her.

Resigned to her fate, Marinette bowed her head dejectedly and mumbled, ”Yes, Maman.”

”Thank you. You're a good girl, Marinette, ” said her father, patting her on the back before heading back to the ovens.

Grabbing a croissant and a to-go cup of coffee, Marinette left her parents with a kiss to their cheeks and a wave before starting her daily walk to school.

As she started up the stairs at the school’s entrance, she was met with the one person who would sour her day.

Lila.

“Well, if it isn’t Mari-brat,” the Italian vixen sneered.

“What do you want, Lie-la?” Marinette asked as she continued up the front steps, keeping her eyes to the front.

“What I want is for you to go down in flames,” the brunette said in a sing-song voice as she walked beside the secret heroine. “Are you ready to give up yet?”

At the top of the stairs, the designer spun to face her nemesis, blue eyes flashing like lightning. “Let me tell you something,” she growled. “I do not make deals with liars, and I never give up easily.”

“Oh,” the fake fox said coyly, “but you will. I’ve already won, you know. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

With a flick of her brown locks, Lila sauntered away, ready to claim her next victim.

Marinette glared after her, wishing with all of her might that the bitch would finally get caught up in her web of lies. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Another masterful attempt ends with disaster,” she muttered, bringing a hand to her face to give it a slight rub. “Pour another cup of coffee and watch it all crash and burn,” she continued as she headed to the locker room, ready to just get the day over with.

Opening the door and finding the room empty, the designer kept singing under her breath as she reached her locker and gathered her belongings for the day. “It’s a puzzle, it's a maze. I tried to steer through it a million ways, but each day’s another wrong turn,” she took another deep breath as she closed the locker door. The secret heroine felt her Kwami pat her through her purse on her hip in reassurance.

“Does anybody have a map, anybody maybe happen to know how the hell to do this? I don’t know if you can tell, but this is me just pretending to know,” Marinette sang slightly louder, looking around as she left the locker room and crossed the courtyard, confident now that no one was paying attention to her. “So where’s the map? I need a clue, ‘cause the scary truth is I’m flying blind… I’m flying blind... I’m flying blind, and I’m making this up as I go...”

Reaching her classroom, Marinette discovered it to be empty. 'Just as well,' she thought, setting her bags down and pulling out her tablet, sketchbook, phone, and earbuds. ‘It's bound to be a long day.'

Feeling inspired, she sat down and opened up her sketchbook to an empty page. She then pulled up the ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ soundtrack on her phone, plugged in her earbuds, and set to work.

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Marinette trudged up the stairs, the weight of the day heavy on her shoulders. She still couldn’t get over the fact that she had been expelled from school and reinstated all within the span of less than two days.

Standing in front of her full length mirror, she took in whom she perceived to be the slightly broken person that stood reflected before her. Her pallid complexion and the dark circles under her eyes revealing the heavy exhaustion pulling at her bones.

She was tired of keeping up the pretenses, of hiding behind her spotted armor, of the endless sleepless nights of being too stressed out by schoolwork and Lila’s threats and finding ways to stop Hawkmoth.

Of pretending that she was okay when she really wasn’t.

It just seemed like everyone believed every one of Lila’s lies! How could they believe that she threw that lying bitch down those stairs? That sneaky fox didn’t even try to pretend that she had hurt herself from her fall.

Where was the security footage? Why didn’t anyone insist on taking that Italian vixen to the nurse to get her checked over? Anyone with eyes could see that she was faking her injuries!

Looking past herself in the mirror, Marinette saw the pictures that she had tacked to the wall. Images of her with her parents, with the Girl Squad. With Alya and Nino.

With Adrien.

Feeling betrayed by those whom she thought had her back, she turned to her Kwami with tears in her eyes, desperate for validation. “Tikki?”

“Yes, Marinette?” The little red being asked from her spot on the desk, chocolate chip cookie in hand.

“Am I a good Ladybug?” The designer asked in a small voice.

“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki sighed, setting the cookie down. “Of course you’re a good Ladybug! You are one of my best wielders.”

“But am I, really? I mean, underneath the suit, without the spots... am I truly a good Ladybug?" Marinette asked pensively.

‘Oh,’ the Kwami thought, ‘this is one of those questions. She’s doubting herself again.’

"Marinette," she began, "how many times must I tell you this? There is no Ladybug without you." Tikki flew over to rest on her Chosen's shoulder. "There have been and there will be other holders of the Ladybug Miraculous," she continued in a contemplative voice, "but you are the only one who could be Ladybug. With and without the mask."

Suddenly a thump was heard on the balcony, and with a quick look conveying a mutual understanding that this conversation wasn’t finished, Tikki flew fast to hide in a desk drawer. Soon after, there was a knock heard on her skylight.

“Hello, Purrincess!” The cat themed hero greeted her as she let him in. “I wanted to check up on my favorite civilian. I heard that there was some excitement at your school recently?”

That show of kindness was the straw that broke the camel's back. The dam holding in her tears broke and Marinette collapsed, sobbing. With a startled “Whoa,” Chat Noir quickly caught her before she hit the ground, holding her tightly against him while trying to calm the crying girl in his arms.

When her sobs became hiccups, and her hiccups turned to sniffles, he was finally able to ask, “Princess, what happened?” with concern lacing his voice.

“It… it was awful Ch-chat N-noir. I... I was almost ak-kumatized yesterday,” she choked out.

“What?!” Chat exclaimed quietly, still holding the shaking girl in his embrace. Scooping her up carefully in a bridal hold, he settled them down comfortably on her chaise with her curled up tightly against him, her head tucked under his chin, similar to how his own mother would cradle him as a crying child. "Princess… Marinette, can you walk me through this? Please? I want to understand what happened.”

She slowly confided to him her worries. Well, almost all of them. The cat-themed hero growled low as he learned of the fake fox's promised threats, furious that Lila had the audacity to harm his cherished friend.

High-road be damned, no one hurts his Princess!

“And what really... made it worse… was that... everyone was writing my concerns off as … as jealousy,” Marinette choked out as her crying started back up. “I am NOT jealous of that … that … lying fox!”

Taking a deep breath to quell his rage, lest he become an Akuma himself, Chat gave

the dark-haired beauty in his arms a gentle squeeze to comfort her. "Losing is easy, winning takes bravery, and the kindest of whispers can seem cruel from those whom we consider our friends," he told her in a soft voice, kissing the top of her head to comfort her. Pulling back just a bit so that he could wipe away her tears with the back of his knuckles, careful not to scratch her with his claws, he stated, "You are one of the sweetest, kindest, and bravest people that I've ever known, Marinette."

"I don't feel very brave," she responded quietly with a pout, before burying her tear-stained face into his chest.

"But you are! You are so brave!" he cooed at her, gingerly running a clawed hand up and down her spine in an attempt to soothe. "Braver than I am, and I'm betting that you're even more brave than Ladybug."

That line earned him a snort.

Encouraged by that sound, Chat grinned as he continued to extoll her virtues. "I also have on very good authority that you are a very loyal and true friend. That is an extremely rare quality to have," he said as he gently pushed back her bangs, placing a feather-light kiss to her forehead.

Marinette shifted slightly in his hold, peeking up at him through her long, inky eyelashes. "Do you really think so?" she asked bashfully, a pink tinge highlighting the freckles that were scattered like stars across the bridge of her nose.

"I know so," he confirmed with a wry grin. "Didn't that Agreste kid call you an ‘Everyday Ladybug’ once?" he asked, his grin morphing into a smirk. "Trust me, there is no higher praise than that that I could think of."

'She really is adorable,' the errant thought swam across his stream of conscience.

His mind screeched to a halt.

‘Wait... what?’

After thinking it over for a moment, he came to the conclusion of ‘Well, it's true.’

The look of awe she gave him made him catch his breath. Her blue eyes seemed to grow larger, the color appearing to nearly glow. Her parted lips looked so soft too...

'Get a grip, Agreste!’ He admonished himself. ‘She’s your friend, and she’s hurting right now!'

He re-positioned her within his embrace, turning her until her back was against his chest, her head nestled against his left shoulder. He spied a black permanent marker within his reach and grabbed it, uncapping it with his teeth. Spitting out the cap, he reached for her right hand, softly asking, "May I?"

"What are you doing?" Marinette asked, placing it in his hand with trust in her gaze. Chat marveled at her bluebell stare for only a moment before returning his attention to the task at hand.

Nestling her delicate wrist within his large clawed hands like a treasured prize, he placed a soft kiss to the back of her knuckles, smiling fondly. "I just want to leave you a little reminder," he said as he turned the appendage, placing the marker's tip to the delicate skin of the inside of said wrist.

She struggled not to move, though she did flinch slightly at the cool feeling of the writing instrument’s ink against her skin. Her face burned slightly at the tenderness he was showing her, but that wasn’t what drew her attention.

It was the look on his face.

With his masked face twisted in concentration, the cat themed hero produced neat, careful hanzi on the designer's porcelain skin.

"There," he said with triumph and pride in his voice, drawing her attention to what he had been doing to begin with.

There, now decorating the once unmarked skin, were three simple but intricate Chinese characters

忠

勇

真

They were beautiful. And her silly, sweet, kind, destructive partner had put them there.

Chat Noir was indeed proud. It was his best try at the complicated writing system to date, so it only seemed fitting that it would look perfect against his friend’s gorgeous skin. "Now, whenever you feel down about everything you just told me about, I want you to look down at your wrist. For you are Loyal," he points at the first character, pausing for a moment before moving on to the next one. "Brave," he continued until he moved his clawed finger to the last of the three characters, "and True."

Tearing her gaze from the beautiful words now adorning her wrist, Marinette found herself drowning in gratitude and fondness for her partner. Turning her head slightly, she locked his peridot gaze with her azure, whispering, "Thank you, Chat Noir."

Feline eyes softened, and finding that his heart was beating just a tad harder for his dark haired friend, the boy beneath the mask replied just as quietly, "You're welcome, Marinette."

When it was time for him to leave, she followed him up to her balcony, bidding him goodnight. They shared one last hug before he leapt off of the balcony rail, performing some feat of aerial acrobatics to make her smile. Laughing at her partner’s antics, she leaned against the railing, taking in the balmy night air. Inhaling with the smile still on her face, she let her heart fill with gratitude once more to her partner. Letting out a long exhale, she found that her attention was once more drawn to the foreign words written along the inside of her wrist. She’d have to find a way to cover them up for tomorrow, but that was a problem for Future Marinette to worry about.

At this time, Tikki floated up out of hiding, making herself known to her holder before setting herself onto Marinette's shoulder. The Kwami took notice of the words now written on her chosen's appendage. "Well, that was a very nice thing that Chat Noir did for you, Marinette," she said approvingly.

"Yeah," Marinette replied, still staring down at the writing with a soft smile on her face. "It really... was..." she trailed off, the smile slowly slipping off of her face as she stared at her wrist more intently. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach as the actions of her partner finally registered. "Tikki?" she asked, her voice a little higher in pitch than normal.

"Yes, Marinette?" the kwami answered, confusion coloring her voice as she floated in front of her wielder’s face to gage her expression. She was surprised to see the beginnings of panic etching themselves onto the designer’s countenance. “Marinette, what’s wrong?” Tikki asked, worry coloring her tiny features.

On the verge of hyperventilating, Marinette looked up to her with eyes wide and asked, "Why did Chat Noir write those words on my wrist in Chinese?!"