Chapter Text
It’s not quite love at first sight.
Or even at first touch.
No, their first moments together are a mess of tangled limbs, pain and embarrassment. Everything is too loud and too bright, her body drunk on power it’s never known before, instinctive grace battling a lifetime of clumsiness.
And she hates him a little for brushing their crash landing off with a laugh. For being so carefree, for being fearless, for the way he sweeps into an exaggerated bow and introduces himself as a Lord of all things.
“See, I’m not much of a Ladybug,” he says, green eyes shining with glee. “But you could be my Lady, if you’d like. You’re my partner, right?”
That’s when Marinette finds herself repressing the foreign urge to swipe her new claws at him.
But then he saves her from being crushed by a gigantic stone monster. Speaks soft words of courage when she’s on the verge of surrender. Saves the day and unleashes magic that heals the city.
She starts noticing how his golden hair gleams in the sun. How handsome his smile is. How kind his eyes.
When Lordbug squares his shoulders and his jaw, standing tall as he faces down Hawkmoth in their lowest moment, he ignites a fighting spirit inside of her she never knew she had.
Another spark ignites as well, soon growing into an inferno that consumes her every thought.
For Lady Noire is deeply, utterly, madly in love with her partner.
✧✦✧
It’s not quite love at first sight.
Quite the opposite.
The contempt in her eyes is nearly enough to make him turn around, walk out of the classroom, and end this “school” experiment right then and there. His carefully nursed hope for friendship shrivels like a sad little grape in the glare of the sun. Any attempt to protest dies in his throat.
It wasn’t me!
But she doesn’t want to hear it, turning her back to him like he is nothing.
✧✦✧
Warmth brushes against him, the tips of their fingers touching for the barest moment as he hands her his umbrella. It only lasts a heartbeat, yet it strikes him like lightning, leaving his skin sizzling with some foreign sensation.
Her smile lights up her face, and her thanks is like music to his ears.
A friend.
He’s made a friend.
✧✦✧
In time, he makes many friends, and he treasures each and every one.
Yet it’s an undeniable fact that Marinette is simply the best of them. And while he can list the many reasons why, it also strikes him as rather unnecessary, for the same reason there is no need to explain that the sky is blue. It simply is, and there’s no point arguing about it.
So he does not dwell on the way rooms brighten when she enters. Does not dwell on how her gentle teasing makes him laugh like nothing and nobody else. How the divine pastries she so generously supplies taste even better when she offers him one that he knows she’s made herself.
Marinette is amazing, and that is a fact of life.
✧✦✧
Bright light washes over her, and Lady Noire stumbles as her momentum carries her forward. The claws itching to sink into the Akuma slice through air instead. She blinks, cat ears twitching as the world tilts on its axis, and cheers fill the air.
That is when strong arms envelop her, squeezing so hard her breath catches.
Oh.
She must have gotten hit.
It’s always disorientating to be brought back into existence in the blink of an eye only to realize she failed. Her partner had to finish the fight without her – and he did. He always does. No doubt she’s going to scream into her pillows about it tonight, regret and shame hitting hardest when Plagg has curled up to sleep and she lies alone in the dark, with only spiraling thoughts to keep her company.
But this moment, it doesn’t hurt. Not like that.
“My Lady,” he whispers in her ear, hugging her tighter, and all of her shivers in delight. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she lies, and fights to contain the purr rumbling in her chest.
This is the sweetest form of agony.
✧✦✧
Marinette has her face burrowed in a pillow again, so it’s going to be one of those days. Plagg sighs, flitting to the desk drawer where she keeps his supply of precious camembert, choosing the biggest slice available to gulp down in one bite.
Thus strengthened, he plops down on the pillow next to her, and prepares to face the greatest challenge of all.
Guidance.
It’s not his way, or that of his Chosen. He gives them a taste of his power, and they run wild, allowing Plagg to observe their real character. The power of Destruction is not lightly given, and easily taken away.
For it corrupts.
But Marinette is not like the ones he’s used to, her temperament so unlike the wielders who came before. Far from running wild, she’s standing still, forever second-guessing her every step. The heart of a warrior beats inside her chest, Plagg is certain of it, and the Guardian must be, too, to have made this choice.
Yet something is keeping her from tapping into her full potential, and since there’s nobody else around, it seems like it’s going to be Plagg’s task to draw it out.
Suppressing a retch at being forced to go against his very nature, he extends one paw and gently taps her cheek.
“Kitten, you’re being too hard on yourself.”
“Bu-i-fehld,” she says, words muffled by the fabric.
Plagg blows a raspberry, and she jerks up, glaring at him.
“You didn’t fail,” he drawls, mind firmly on the piece of camembert that is to be his reward for this conversation. “You did exactly what we are meant to do – you protected your partner. And sometimes that requires self-sacrifice.”
✧✦✧
“Ugh!”
Marinette’s nose crinkles in disgust and she pushes the physics textbook far away. It slides across the table, coming to a halt precariously close to the edge, yet still barely balanced. Her eyes narrow – and for one mad moment it almost looks like her pupils do, too – and then she gives it one more petulant push.
Adrien catches it by its spine before it hits the ground.
“I’ll never be able to get this,” she mutters, and slumps back in her seat, defeated.
“Of course you will,” he says, opening the book back to their current lesson and smoothing the pages.
“Have you considered not everyone’s as smart as you?”
“Yeah,” he says, “You’re smarter.”
In the blink of an eye, she’s scooped up one of the many crumpled up papers strewn about the desk. By the time he realizes what’s happening, it’s already on a direct trajectory to his head, accompanied by a dry “Flatterer.”
“How dare you besmirch my character like this.” He catches it at the last possible moment, and grins smugly. “I speak only the truth.”
Marinette rolls her eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at her lips.
“I know it seems hard, but physics – math in general – it’s like a puzzle. You just have got to keep at it. It doesn’t make sense until you’ve put all the pieces together and then it starts making perfect sense.”
“Sounds fake, but okay.”
And yet, she reaches for the book and draws it toward her, intense concentration furrowing her brows as she gives it another try. He really likes that about her.
No matter how much her insecurities try to beat her down, in the end, Marinette always gets up again.
✧✦✧
“Seriously!? Not even for your 18th birthday?”
Adrien shrugs, a brittle smile on his face, because what else can he do? His father’s word is law, and there’s no point in fighting it.
Marinette crosses her arms, a fierce scowl on her delicate features.
“Do you want me to beat him up for you?”
He barks out a surprised laugh.
“I mean it,” she says. “I can. I will. Just say the word.”
The laughter dies in his throat. Marinette is tiny while his father looms large in an ominous sort of way, and yet…
It’s in that exact moment that Adrien realizes that, yes, Marinette Dupain-Cheng would absolutely find a way to break Gabriel Agreste if that is what it takes to get Adrien a birthday party.
“Oh,” he says, and means I love you.
✧✦✧
“Tikki! Tikki, what do I do!”
Watching Adrien carve a well-worn path into the luxurious carpet of his room as he paces back and forth, she cannot help but laugh in delight. Finally! The day has come!
Her Chosen’s infatuation with sweet Marinette has been so very, very obvious for a long time. So much so that even Tikki, an immortal being as old as time itself, came to know the sting of impatience.
Oh, how tempted she’d been to steer him toward her. To point out the obvious. To give him all the answers and end this everlasting dance around each other.
Yet for living beings to grow as they are meant to, Tikki must let them face their battles, no matter how much she is tempted to shield them. She’s made that mistake in times past, letting her precious charges’ potential wither as they grew weak and complacent, certain that they could always turn to her for the right answer.
And for her patience she is rewarded with the sheer joy of witnessing the hard-won epiphany dawn at last.
“Well,” she says, a rather self-satisfied expression on her face. “From what I understand of humans, there’s romantic rituals you could court her with?”
“Yes!” Adrien nods vigorously. “Yes! I’ll – a dozen roses! Do you think she likes roses? Or maybe a bouquet, for variety. A dozen bouquets! And, and! We could take a boat ride on the Seine and go to the opera!” He gasps, eyes shining as he loses himself in daydreams. “I could ask her to a fashion show, she loves those!”
“Well,” Tikki says with a giggle. “Maybe it doesn’t need to be every courtship ritual at once.”
✧✦✧
“I’m sorry.”
No.
“Adrien, I–“ Her shoulders hunch inward as she wraps herself inside her arms. “You’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose that.”
It’s not supposed to go like this.
“We won’t lose it,” he rushes to say, because there has to be something, anything he can say that will make her see just how well they fit together. Like puzzle pieces interlocking, shapes perfectly entwined, they are meant to be. “We’ll still be us.” They’ll be more.
Eyes like the sky stare at him and for a heartbeat a connection seems forged.
Yet then she averts her gaze, staring at the ground, and whispers words he never even had the sense to dread.
“There’s someone else...”
✧✦✧
“Check it out, it’s already got close to a million views!”
As it always is when talking about her Lordblog, Alya’s voice is overflowing with enthusiasm as she shoves her phone at Marinette. And Adrien would be lying if he said it isn’t a secret pleasure to listen in on these conversations, basking in the praise the girls lavish on his alter ego.
That is, most days.
Hearing Marinette swoon over Lordbug carries a sharper edge these days, digging into a wound that refuses to heal. Yet on this day in particular, she’s being silent and Adrien is seething for another reason entirely.
“I really don’t think it was appropriate of you to upload that video, Alya,” he says through gritted teeth. Nino throws him an askance look, and Adrien does his best to conjure a strained smile and temper his tone. He’s never been good at conflict, preferring to stay silent rather than risk damage to his treasured friendships. Yet this leaves him ill-equipped to deal with situations where he has to speak up.
“Why?” Alya shoots back, arching an eyebrow.
“I just – don’t you think it’s kind of mean?”
“You think I’m mean?” Alya’s voice is rising just as Nino breathes out a quiet, “Bro.”
“No, that’s not what I – look, I think it’s just a mistake, alright? We all make them.” He exhales a tired breath, his partner’s sweet smile on his mind. “Lady Noire works hard to protect the city and she doesn’t deserve to have her mistakes made fun of like this.”
And frankly, titling the compilation ’10 HILARIOUS CAT FAILS TRY NOT TO LAUGH CHALLENGE’ is just too much.
“Nobody’s making fun,” Alya says.
“Uh, excuse me, have you read the ti–“
“It’s ironic, Adrien, and that video is endearing. Everyone loves Noire memes. I mean, come on, how could you not love that startled little mew just before she falls into the–“
“Oh, I’m making fun,” Chloe cuts in from across the row, and Alya transfers her glare from Adrien to her.
“Yeah, well, nobody cares what you think, Chloe,” she says. “We all know you’re just jealous Lordbug prefers his real partner to you.”
An angry pink blotch flares to life on Chloe’s cheeks, and Adrien wonders just how red it really is if it’s shining through her perfect contouring like that. “Yeah, well,” she snaps. “At least Queen Bee never got herself brainwashed, unlike this utterly ridiculous idiot who manages to accomplish that twice a week.”
“No, you only derailed a train,” Alix says, jumping into the discussion with a cackle.
“Statistically speaking,” Max says, calculator in hand, “Lady Noire has only been brainwashed five times, which averages out to once every three point eight months, while the entirety of Paris gets subjected to a mass brainwashing every two point three, and that includes you, Chloe. She’s doing a lot better than the average citizen while being present at 98.6% of Akuma attacks.”
“She has superpowers,” Chloe sneers. “Better than average is the least we should hope for. Lordbug has never once been brainwashed.”
“Because she protects him!” Adrien says heatedly, clenching his fists under the table.
And he hates it. Every single time she jumps in front of him to shield him from whatever nasty attack is headed his way, his heart drops to the bottom of his stomach. He’s watched her be disintegrated, stabbed, torn to shreds, thrown out of time and even erased from existence.
But it’s the brainwashings that he has nightmares of.
“Kitten,” he whispers, fingertips tracing along a bruise on her cheek. A bruise put there by him. “When are you going to stop doing this to yourself?”
Her gaze is unfocused, breaths uneven. “Y-you matter more. You can put things right again. I can’t.”
Pink light washes the bruise away, but the memory remains.
“Yeah, right,” Chloe says. “Like he needs her.”
“He does!” Adrien’s voice is rising and he knows people are staring at him, but he doesn’t care. “He wouldn’t be able to save the city without her! They’re a team, she helps him figure out how to use his Lucky Charm all the time, and–“
“Oh please,” Chloe says with a laugh. “The only reason he keeps her around is that tight black leather suit of hers. That’s why her fanbase is 90% guys. How’s that for statistics, nerds.”
A beat of silence.
“Well, I hate to say it, but Queen Bitch has a point,” Kim says. “That cat suit is her best asset.”
The class erupts in a mix of protests and laughter while Adrien chokes on his rage, knowing it’ll give away his identity if he so much as opens his mouth past this point. To them, this is just another round of arguing which Parisian superhero is best, but to him, that’s his friend, his partner, and it makes his skin crawl to hear her talked about like this. As shy as Lady Noire is, barely even able to squeak out a sentence when put on the spot, once faced with danger, she is indomitable. She’s brave and resourceful and wonderful and deserves nothing of this.
Turning away from the others in disgust, he does his best to tune the rest of the debate out. And maybe it’s his search for something else to think about while the discussion grows heated, or maybe it’s his body’s attunement to her movements at all times, but he seems to be the only one who notices Marinette slinking out the door.
✧✦✧
Plagg’s soft paw is pressing against her cheek, thrumming with a comforting purr as she tries hard to suppress the sobs racking her body. Pressing her palm to her mouth, Marinette stifles the sounds, because she really, really can’t explain to anyone why she’s crying in the hallway, not without giving her secret away. And that would be her worst failure yet.
Yet only one in a long line of them.
“Don’t listen to these idiots,” Plagg hisses. “They know nothing of you. Of us. Of true power or battle or strength of character.”
“B-but they’re right. Aren’t they?” She stumbles through the bathroom door and slams it shut behind her, sinking to her knees. “I – I do get brainwashed, and captured, and defeated, while he – he is–“
Perfect.
Plagg scoffs. “Please! He’s the biggest dork I’ve seen in centuries!” Then his voice softens. “And you have the most potential in–“
He freezes, fur standing on end. Then he slams into her shoulder as if trying to get her to budge.
“Run!”
“W-what?”
“You need to run, now!”
And then she sees it.
A purple butterfly fluttering in through the bathroom window.
Scrambling to her feet, wiping the tears from her eyes, she yanks open the door – god, why do they have to open inward – and pushes forward. Yet her body isn’t responding right, clumsy, too-stiff limbs not infused with the grace her instincts expect. Stumbling, her momentum carries her forward until she hits the railing, and that’s the only thing that saves her from falling into the courtyard below.
Her ring grows cold as ice.
Well, well, well. What do we have here.
Sickening tendrils curl around her thoughts and pry away her secrets, a burst of glee that is not her own exploding inside of her. He knows. I know. Oh god, he knows, he knows, he knows, he’s not supposed to know, she FAILED–
My dear Lady, this is not a failure. This is an opportunity.
“Shut up,” she says, voice shaking. “I refuse. I refuse you, Hawkmoth, you have nothing to offer me.”
“Marinette!”
She jerks up her head as a new voice joins the one taunting her.
Aren’t you sick of being second best? Aren’t Creation and Destruction meant to be equals?
Adrien is staring at her with eyes wide in horror. Then he breaks into a sprint, clearly intent on closing the distance between them.
“Stay back!” She doesn’t know whether she’s yelling at him or at Hawkmoth. “Go away!”
How many times have you failed to protect him?
Shut up. Shutupshutupshutup–
I offer you the power to become what you should have been all along. And I will not even ask for your Miraculous in return. I ask only to borrow it long enough to make a wish, and then you shall be the true, worthy heir to Destruction.
Adrien hands come down on her shoulders. His lips are moving, but she cannot hear a thing past the sweet voice in her head.
No more doubt. No more weakness. No more failures.
Don’t you want to be perfect, Lady Blanche?
Like him?
“Adrien,” she whispers as her ring starts bubbling with black. “Run.”