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Marinette was the last person anyone would pin as a metalhead. Most would probably assume, just as she had, that the music would just sound like loud noise to her. So how on earth did Ladybug end up doing the most intense air guitar solo ever performed on a random rooftop?
Obviously Marinette was a Jagged Stone fan. She had bought all of his albums, and designed the cover of one for crying out loud. His music had always spoke to her, appealed to some repressed rebellious side (she liked to jokingly call it ‘Dark Ladybug’) that everyone her age had. Jagged’s guitar work was always so good, but take away his incredibly clean shredding and his music was just pop. It was rock. It was mostly rock. It was rock-ish. Even still, Marinette didn’t believe that anything that drifted too far into the void of metal would ever capture that same appeal.
It was Luka’s fault that it did.
She had come aboard the pirate ship once again to spend some time with Luka. The first time they had met was a complete disaster, but M-M-Marinette was doing better. They were having full conversations about things like their futures, the other people in their class, the usual stuff. This is how the subject of music came along, as it always seemed to with Luka.
“I seem to not be as bad at talking as I was the first time we met,” Luka began, his hand already reaching for his guitar. “But even so, I’d like to play you something. It’s a new piece for the band, and I’d love your opinion on it.”
Surprised at first, Marinette was eager to listen. Luka’s eyes shone with appreciation as his hand reached down to strum. Without an amplifier, the electric guitar was fairly quiet. Still, chord progressions shone through into a melody in Marinette’s ear.
After he had played for a few bars, a chorus it seemed, he stopped and looked up at her.
“You don’t like it.” Luka’s face deflated as he looked her in the eyes.
“N-No, I don’t dislike it!” Marinette flipped over a frown she didn’t realize she was making. “I was just thinking…it seems like it’s missing something. Something’s off about it.”
Luka seemed to appreciate her honesty. He hopped off his bed, laying his guitar on it as he went to a nearby closet.
“It’s funny you say that,” he said, his amplifier in his hand. “I actually am writing in a bit different genre than usual. A little heavier. Maybe that’s why?”
He set his amp down, plugging in some sort of device that looked like the gas pedal of a car. A cord ran from the machine to the pedal, and from the pedal to the other end of the plug. The amp whirred lightly as his fingers touched the metal tip of the wire.
“I know it’s not your style, but give it a chance.” He looked at her encouragingly as the plug met the guitar. He spent a few seconds fiddling with the volume before beginning once again.
This time, as his fingers danced up and down the fret board, the whole feel of the song was different. With the full sound, Marinette felt an emotion coming from the guitar’s wailing. The feelings were intense, as if the guitar itself was not being played but crying out to the world.
That was how the edgy, Dark Ladybug part of Marinette remembered it anyway.
When he finished, Marinette wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“I liked that, a lot. That was…metal, yes?” The word sounded weird in her own voice.
When Luka nodded, she continued her train of thought. “I always thought metal sounded angry and there was lots of deep throated screaming into the microphone. That didn’t sound like that at all. I’m not sure if it sounded sad, or excited, or both.”
“Well, that growl-y screamo stuff does exist, but it’s not all there is. Or even most of it.” Luka had the most serious expression she had seen on him. “All genres can express different moods, it’s just about how your feelings come out on the page, y’know?” His face showed a more self-conscious side once he had finished.
Before long, Marinette was on her way home with a list of rock and metal recommendations from the boy with the guitar. According to him, the French scene was okay but America and the UK were where the good stuff came from. Once she had listened to it all, from Led Zeppelin to Metallica, she was hard-pressed to find anything she didn’t like.
She had to admit it, she was into metal.
It didn’t hurt that she felt like a total badass when she felt the weight of heavy drums and complicated guitar licks as she sailed across the streets of Paris. When the notes sustained as she floated in the air between buildings, she felt like she was actually flying. This feeling made patrolling on her nights so much easier.
Ladybug had, admittedly, gotten too into the song she was listening to. As the second chorus ended, she was singing along to every word as she felt the music in her soul. The guitar solo came on, and she knew it by heart. She landed on the next rooftop and rocked her heart out. She had never touched a guitar, let alone play one, but she had watched from Luka and Youtube enough to know the general areas to put your hands for different notes.
She had started singing along to the chorus again when she felt a tap on her shoulder, and nearly jumped clear off the top of the building. A few gasping breaths later, and her eyes honed in on Chat Noir.
“Hey, Bugaboo!” Chat enthusiastically teased. “Enjoying some music on patrol?”
Bugaboo’s ears were burning with raw embarrassment. Dark Ladybug had run into a corner to hide, leaving Marinette to deal with this herself.
“You see, Chat, I-“She didn’t finish before the cat had already grabbed one of her earphones.
“Whatcha listenin’ to?” he listened to it for a moment, before surprise settled on his masked features. “I had no idea you were into this kind of thing. That’s awesome!”
She opened one eye of her cringing face. “It’s…awesome? Not weird, or edgy, or…cringe?”
“Nahh, not at all.” The cat replied with earnest. “I love this kind of music too, I just listen a lot to classical, because I’m trained in it.”
“Well aren’t you full of surprises too, kitty!” She countered, recovering. “I wouldn’t have thought you were dignified enough to recite Bach or Beethoven.” She finished her taunt with a look that dared him to retaliate.
“I’ll just have to prove you wrong someday then,” Chat said, smiling that mischievous smirk of his. “We could make beautiful music together, my Lady.”
After some more back and forth, the pair finished patrol together and went their separate ways for the night. It didn’t take long for suspicions to arise when Marinette placed her phone, a preview showing Black Sabbath, rested on Adrien’s piano. A shared look was the beginning of a new understanding.
