Work Text:
Adrien was ten years old when his life changed.
His family life had been simple before that point– a stoic but caring father, a doting mother, and a quiet house in the country-side of France. He had no reason to believe that his father’s study might house anything other than the average: a few interesting books, faded photos, and sketches. He had no reason to believe that opening an old box hidden in a false drawer would ruin everything.
He had always been a curious child, and a box like that with an interesting symbol burned in the front– a snake biting its own tail– was such an interesting sight he had to pry open the lid.
A bright light flared from inside, nearly blinding Adrien as the box clattered to the floor.
He stumbled back, hand partly shielding his eyes as a hulking figure rose above him.
Deep blue in color, the figure blurred in some places, like parts of it were less of this world than others. It bared pointed teeth, canines as long as Adrien’s forearm, sneering down at him. “I’ve been trapped in that thing for twenty years,” it said, looking down at the young boy as its barbed tail lashed out toward the box, “Either you have aged somewhat backward for humans, or you’re not the person who trapped me in here,”
Now, Adrien was an incredibly brave boy, but even this was too terrifying for him. He let out a scream, scrambling farther away from it as it grinned, teeth standing out against its smoky form.
That was when his mother burst in, gold hair flaming and white blade blazing. Adrien nearly burst into tears from relief, seeing his mother standing there, calm and confident. “You will not touch my son,” she said clearly, her teeth grit in determination. “Or I will strike you down where you stand,”
The great hulking thing laughed, voice deep and rumbling. It lashed its tail out, knocking her to the ground before she could land a strike against him.
“Years of not fighting will do that to you, won’t it?” the demon said lazily, picking a bit of gore out from between its teeth, “Not quite what you used to be, huh?” It turned back to Adrien, giving him an unimpressed look with all black eyes, the color of spilled ink. “It is truly your father I wish to destroy, but as he is not here, I suppose you will have to do, child. I curse you,” it said, smoky form flickering, “All who love you will die. Their love will be their destruction. It may take mere minutes, it may take years, but any who look upon you with love will die of it unless you leave them forever. All those who love you will die,” it repeated, “And I shall begin with her,” it snarled, flicking its tail toward his mother before vanishing.
Adrien stood, petrified, waiting for his mother to die. She didn’t.
Emilie rushed over to her son, gathering him up in her arms, “Oh, my darling, son,” she said, “This is why we mustn’t go through your father’s things, oui?”
Adrien nodded, letting tears stain her blouse.
“And don’t worry darling,” she said soothingly, stroking his hair, “That curse means nothing, you know that, right? Nothing will come of it.” She pulled back just enough to look in his eyes, “Now, let’s not tell your father about this, okay, darling? And promise me you won’t go through your father’s things without us there.”
“I promise,” he said quietly.
Emilie nodded, “Good,” she said gently, leading him out of the study. “Now, let’s get you to bed, okay darling? You’ve had a long day.”
Adrien wiped his tears and nodded, calmed.
He was not prepared for what he woke up to that next morning.
His father tried to shield him from it, but Adrien was easily able to peak past him to see his mother’s body lying on the bed, unmoving. He choked down his bile, looking at her pale face, body bruised in patches of purple and reds.
All those who love you will die. And I shall begin with her.
Adrien ran. Away from the countryside, away from his family, away from anyone who might love him or grow to love him in time.
The raspy voice of the demon still rang in his head, years later.
Their love will be their destruction. It may take mere minutes, it may take years, but any who look upon you with love will die of it.
* * *
Adrien was not having a particularly good day. While this, in itself, was not particularly unusual, he had to admit that this was a rather bad day, even for him. He’d woken up to his parabatai coughing, which was enough to put him on edge as it was.
Nino most often was fully capable of taking care of himself, but on days when he woke up unwell, Adrien was unable to think of much else. After all, he was the only one Adrien had allowed himself to get close to. Nino had been sick for years before they met at thirteen– he was already dying. Adrien had allowed himself this one friendship, this one person who he didn’t have to cruelly push away, and on the days he saw Nino sick, he felt a pit grow in his stomach.
Then, at breakfast, Tikki had announced that a Shadowhunter from the London Institute would be spending a year with them in Paris. While this wasn’t uncommon for Shadowhunters, Adrien had hoped no one would visit. They would be just another person he would have to push away.
“Well, then,” he had announced, pushing his plate back, “That’s rather unfortunate,”
Plagg, Tikki’s husband, had merely snorted while Tikki sighed in exasperation, shaking her head gently. “Honestly, Adrien, must you be rude to everyone?”
“He’s not rude to me,” Nino said mildly, slathering a croissant with marmalade.
“Exactly!” Adrien exclaimed brightly, “I’m not rude to everyone. Just everyone who isn’t Nino,”
Alya, another Shadowhunter at the Institute muffled a laugh as she took another sip of her tea, “That,” she pointed out, “Is the majority of the population, Sunshine,”
Nino grinned, taking a bite out of his croissant, “I believe the only solution to this dilemma is that everyone here simply be more like me,”
Rolling his eyes, Adrien patted Nino on the shoulder before getting up from the table. “I have training to do. Oh, and what time is this new person arriving? I must know, seeing as it’s highly important I not show up.”
Tikki fixed him with a withering glare. While she was the Co-Head of the Institute with Plagg and a very motherly figure, despite her being only twenty-three, she could be truly terrifying when she wanted to be. “You will be there,” she said through gritted teeth, “And you will be nice,”
“Not very likely,” Adrien shrugged, ruffling his hair. “Alas, it is simply not in my character.” He leaned over to steal a pastry from Nino’s plate, ignoring his protests as he rushed out of the room.
As he exited the room, he could hear Plagg mutter to Tikki, “I don’t know what’s wrong with that kid, you know? It can’t really be that hard for him to get along with people.”
Adrien felt his heart drop. Their love will be their destruction, he reminded himself. The easiest thing to do was make sure no one could love him. And, besides Nino, no one did.
Everything was as it should be.
Adrien sighed, closing the door to the training room gently behind him. Most of the Institute was currently having afternoon tea down in the parlor, so he had figured it was a safe bet to spend time training. The new arrival would surely be spending time with Tikki and Plagg, so he wouldn’t have to put on any stupid acts for at least a few more hours.
He grabbed a bo staff from the wall, testing the weight of it in his hand as he flicked it through his fingers. While Adrien was perfectly capable of fighting with his seraph blades and swords, he’d always preferred fighting with his bo staff.
After an especially stressful day, he always found training helpful for keeping him calm.
He heard some scuffling from above near the balancing rafters, by quickly shrugged it off. Being a Shadowhunter meant learning how to fall gracefully and well, so people spent a lot of time up there, and it wasn’t rare for people to leave something up there.
Bo staff held tightly in his hands, he began practicing hits against one of the dummies, losing himself in the repetition of the strikes. Sweat began to gather at the nape of his neck as a smoky figure appeared in the back of his mind.
All those you love will die.
Strike.
It may take mere minutes.
Strike.
It may take years.
Strike.
But any who look upon you with love will die of it.
Strike again. Harder this time, until the dummy shook and his muscles strained.
And I shall begin with her.
He struck against it again, wishing he’d wrapped his hands in leather as splinters dug into his palms. Adrien’s head snapped up as he heard another noise from the rafters, this time a very human noise.
His eyes widened as he saw a girl fall from the rafters, dropping the bo staff and rushing to catch her– rather silly, he might add, considering every Shadowhunter should know how to fall.
Adrien caught her gently, one hand on her torso, one under her knees. “Hullo,” he said, “You alright?”
She frowned, “Um, yeah. I’m fine,” she replied, “Thank you,”
“I’m Adrien,” he said, putting her down on her feet, “Adrien Agreste. And you are…”
The girl nodded knowingly, quirking an eyebrow, “Ah,” she said, “So you’re the one Tikki was complaining about when I arrived,”
Adrien ignored the hurt stinging his chest, forcing it into gratitude. That means she’s safe, he reminded himself. She’s safe.
“That sounds very likely,” Adrien said with a nod. He moved back to lean against the wall, fanning himself with one splintered hand. “By the Angel,” he sighed, “It’s like the 9th circle of Hell in here,”
She frowned, “The 9th circle of Hell is cold,”
Adrien’s head snapped up, “Pardon?”
“In Dante’s Inferno,” she said slowly, “It’s cold,”
He stared at her for a moment, feeling the corners of his mouth twitch, “Alright then, darling,” –he ignored her incredulous laugh– “Let me give you a piece of advice. The handsome young fellow who’s just kept you from quite possibly breaking a leg is never wrong,” he said seriously, “Even if he says the sky is green and made of cats.”
“Are you highly intoxicated at the moment?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Adrien sighed, “Unfortunately, not at the moment,” he smiled, “But truly, what’s your name?”
“My name?” she asked, the corner of her lip quirking up.
“Mmhmm,” he said slowly, tilting his head, “Don’t you know it?”
The girl snorted, “You’ve just caught me from a fall, compared this room to a circle of Hell, tried to tell me that the sky is green and made of cats, and now you want to know my name?”
He nodded. “Very true,”
She smiled, sticking out her hand for a handshake, “My name is Marinette,”
Adrien knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. All those you love will die. He took her hand anyway, placing a kiss on the back of it. “A pleasure to meet you, My Lady,”
And I shall begin with her.
* * *
Two weeks later, Adrien found Marinette in the library, curled up in one of the plush chairs, A Tale of Two Cities held close to her face. Her hair was piled in a delicate updo, a plait braided into a crown by her hairline. A warm-looking shawl was wrapped around her shoulders, and she absent-mindedly toyed with a pendant necklace with the hand not holding the book.
Angels, he thought to himself, she is insanely beautiful.
He cleared his throat, leaning against the bookshelf with his arms crossed, “Bonjour, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng,”
She looked up at him, blue eyes sparkling playfully, “Goodness,” she said with a smirk playing on her lips, “So formal. Everyone here calls me Marinette, and I request you do as well,”
“Very well,” he nodded, feeling warmth growing his chest. “But only if you call me Adrien, as well,” Adrien added on, almost as an afterthought, “Marinette,”
“Adrien,” she said softly.
He felt himself begin to soften, looking at her soft eyes and gentle smile. Adrien forced himself to school his features into an impartial expression, waiting for her to continue her sentence. However, he seemed to be waiting for nothing– she just continued to look at him. He stifled a laugh as a soft expression took over her features, “Yes, My Lady?”
Marinette’s eyes widened, and Adrien fought back a smirk as he saw her cheeks flush.
He fought back the smirk on his face, biting the inside of his cheek, “That’s my name,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “Do you just particularly enjoy saying it?”
“No!” she squealed out, holding the book tighter to her chest, “I mean, I’m reading, so… shush?”
“Mmhmm,” Adrien said, raising an eyebrow. He tilted his chin toward the book in her arms, “Do you enjoy reading?”
A smile broke out on her face, “I adore books,” she exclaimed, and Adrien watched on in amusement. “Especially Wilkie Collins, Charlotte Brontë, and oh– Jane Austen!” she cut off, narrowing her eyes at him, “You’re laughing at me!”
“I’m not,” Adrien said, shaking his head, “It’s just, I’ve never seen someone get as excited about books. You talk about them as though they were all precious gems,”
Marinette shrugged, “Well, in a way they are, aren’t they? And isn’t there anything you care for that much?” She got up, pointing a finger to his chest, “And don’t you dare say something ridiculous like spats or lawn tennis,”
“Good Lord,” Adrien said in mock horror, placing a splayed hand over his heart, “It’s like she knows me already,”
She laughed and smiled at him, and Adrien’s heart began to beat in time to the mantra stuck in his head for seven years.
All those who love you will die.
He shook his head, attempting to shake the thoughts out of his head. She’s still safe, he reminded himself, she couldn’t have possibly grown to love him. The only exchanges they’d had were banter where he was sure she was more irritated than anything.
After all, it was difficult to love someone who wouldn't let you. And by the Angel, he wouldn’t– couldn’t – let her love him.
And oh, how he wished he could.
* * *
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Adrien asked Chloé anxiously, gripping tightly to Nino’s arm.
The warlock scoffed, “Of course this is going to work. Maybe,”
“Well, which is it?” Nino asked, “Of course or maybe?”
Chloé shrugged, “Depends on what kind of demon placed a curse on your Sunshine over there–”
“You know,” Adrien said loudly, “I believe people should stop calling me Sunshine,”
“Yeah, yeah,” Chloé said, “Either way, we’ll see what happens when I summon the demon.” She turned to Adrien, “Now, you said you had something we could trace back to it?”
He nodded, procuring a tooth from the inside pocket of his jacket.
Nino jerked away from him, “Adrien,” he said slowly, “How long, exactly, have you been carrying around a potentially poisonous demon tooth in your coat?”
Adrien winced, “I’m not going to answer that one,”
“Whatever,” Chloé said, waving a well-manicured hand through the air, “Give it to me.”
He handed it over and she held it, turning it over in her palms and inspecting it.
“That’ll work,” she said.
Adrien snorted, “So glad my demon-tooth procuring skills are to your satisfaction,”
She chose to ignore the jibe, cracking her knuckles as gold sparks flew around her. "Alright," Chloé said, "I'm going to need some chalk, salt, five candles, and a bottle of vodka,"
"Vodka?" Nino asked, his brow furrowed, "What, for the spell?"
Chloé snorted, "No, of course not. That's just for making me feel better about summoning a demon for you idiots."
“Hey!” Adrien and Nino complained in tandem, “We’re not idiots,”
The warlock raised an eyebrow, “Well if you say so,”
She walked over to a side table, picking up a bottle of vodka and taking a sip directly from it. “You!” she called out, pointing at Nino, “Grab me those candles from over there?” Nino wandered over, grabbing five of the candles strewn across the marble counters, “And you, Sunshine, salt should be somewhere by the dining room.”
Adrien obediently fetched the salt for her as Chloé began drawing the pentagram and spreading the salt. She pulled out a vile of some crimson substance, spilling it in the middle as she began to chant before finally throwing the tooth in as the circle erupted in pure gold flames.
There was the demon, blue skin, and pupilless eyes, completely inky black. A tail lashed out behind it as it narrowed its eyes at the three of them. “Who dares summon me?”
Chloé raised an eyebrow at Adrien, stepping back from the pentagram. The message behind it was clear– this was Adrien’s business now, and he was on his own.
“You don’t remember me?” Adrien asked, taking a step forward, careful not to get too close.
“Oh, I do. You chased me through the gardens and tore out one of my teeth,” the demon said as though this were a particularly pleasant memory.
Adrien shook his head, “No. I’m asking if you remember me,”
The demon went silent, eyes unfathomable in their darkness.
“It was seven years ago,” Adrien said softly, “I opened a Pyxis in the library, and you came out. We were in my father’s library. You attacked, but my mother fended you off with a seraph blade. Do you remember now?”
There was a long silence, Nino staring at Adrien, eyes filled with nothing but compassion and Chloé keeping her deep blue eyes on the demon, “Speak the truth,” she said coldly, “Or it will go very badly for you, Mayura,”
The demon looked back to Adrien, “You,” it said reluctantly, “You are that boy. Gabriel Agreste’s son.”
Adrien felt his lungs constrict. His head felt light and his vision swam, Nino’s concerned gold eyes at the forefront of his mind. He dug his nails into his palms, letting the sting clear his mind, “So you remember,”
“Of course I remember,” the demon snorted. “I had been trapped in that thing for nearly twenty years. You looked just like your father, you know. The coloring of your mother, but still, it was clear you were his child.” It smirked, “And your mother was just so brave, wasn’t she? To pick up that blade she hadn’t touched in over a decade, thinking she could still wield it just as well?”
“She used it well enough to fend you off. That’s why instead of killing me, you cursed me.”
The demon chuckled, sharp fangs glistening. “All who love you will die. Their love will be their destruction. It may take mere minutes, it may take years, but any who look upon you with love will die of it unless you leave them forever. And I shall begin with her,” it repeated.
Adrien felt as though the air around him was fire. His body burned. “Yes,”
“And I supposed you summoned me just to reminisce about this shared event in our past?” the demon asked, tilting its head in an oddly human gesture.
He choked on a laugh, “I called you up, you horrible thing, so you would take this curse off me. My mother died that night. I– I left my father to keep him safe. I’ve pushed everyone away to keep them safe. It’s been seven years,” he said, “Seven years,” he repeated more quietly, “I cannot withstand it any longer,”
Mayura scoffed, “Do not try to engage my pity, Shadowhunter,” it said, “I was tortured in that box for twenty years. Perhaps you ought to try it–”
Adrien’s whole body began to tense, his rage demanding he jump into the pentagram and rip the demon to shreds. Before he could do so, Chloé stepped forward. “Something about this story strikes me as rather odd, Mayura,”
The demon’s eyes flickered toward her, “And what is that?”
“A demon, upon being let out of a Pyxis, is usually very weak, having been starved for as long as it has been imprisoned. Think of it as a safeguard, in case it tries to escape later. Makes it easier to kill, later. Most certainly,” Chloé said, her ice-cold eyes narrowing, “Too weak to cast both as subtle and strong as the one you claim to have cast on Adrien.”
The demon hissed something in a demonic language Adrien did not recognize, although Chloé must have, for she narrowed her eyes in contempt.
“But she died,” Adrien said hoarsely, “My– my mother died. Mayura said she would, and she did. Just that night,”
Chloé’s eyes were fixed on the demon, some kind of battle of wills occurring outside of Adrien’s understanding. Nino placed a comforting hand on Adrien’s shoulder.
“You should have told us sooner,” he said.
He recalled what he had said to Chloé when she asked him why he had not done just that.
If they knew, they might begin to pity me. Pity might turn to caring and caring to love. I could not risk it.
“Do you really wish to test me, Mayura?” Chloé said, “Do you wish to anger my father in that way?”
The demon spat out a curse before turning its eyes on Adrien yet again. “The warlock is correct,” it said, “The curse was false– you mother only died because I struck her with my stinger,”
A lash of a tail, the seraph blade clattering to the floor, his mother knocked to the ground.
“There has never been a curse on you, Adrien Agreste. Not one put there by me,”
Adrien shook his head, hands trembling as he stepped away from Nino, “No,” he muttered, “No. That– that’s not possible. I– I can’t.” He looked to his parabatai. “Nino…”
“Nino is my greatest sin,”
“He is what I have allowed myself,”
“No one can live with nothing,”
Chloé took a panicked look at him before turning back to the demon, “Are you lying, Mayura. Do you swear you are telling the truth?”
The demon shrugged, “I swear,” it said, rolling its eyes, “What would I possibly gain from lying?”
Adrien fell to his knees, but even the feeling of his knees hitting the floor was dull. His hands were interlaced over his stomach as if they were the only thing keeping his guts from spilling out onto the polished hardwood. Seven years, he thought to himself, seven years he’d wasted. He’d heard his father screaming on the steps of the Institute, begging him to come home, and him, ordering Tikki and Plagg to send him away. Again and again and again and again–
And everything he’d done to others. The things he’d said to Tikki and Plagg and Alya and– oh God, Marinette.
“Adrien is right,” Chloé said, voice barely concealing her anger, “You truly are horrible. Burn, Mayura– you deserve it,”
The demon vanished in a burst of flames, but Adrien barely noticed it. Nino was there, still, concerned face hovering over him.
“He is already dying,” Adrien choked out, “I– I thought: at least with my mother it was faster. It was a quick death. If nothing else, I could give him that in return for friendship.
He could see Marinette in his mind, the night of dance, dressed in pale pink and pearl. Her smile, her laugh, the way she did everything relentlessly and unapologetically. A storm in the skin of a beautiful girl.
Marinette.
“What?” he laughed ruthlessly, “You didn’t think I’d grown to care for you, did you? You should have heard the rumors by now, Marinette: I am no better than a monster. I am incapable of love, except for that which I feel for my parabatai.”
Marinette shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes, “No. No,” she repeated more fiercely, “I have seen you underneath that, and I care for you. Those are just stories.”
“Haven’t you heard?” Adrien asked, voice poisoned with bitterness, “All stories are true. I think you should go. I have made it very clear how I feel about you.”
“What the hell is going on?!” a voice shrieked, snapping Adrien out of his panic.
His head snapped up, barely avoiding a collision with Nino’s.
Marinette was standing there, dressed in a day gown of ivory, looking absolutely furious.
Adrien shook his head, curling further in on himself as Nino stood up, moving over to talk to Marinette. He pulled her aside and they spoke in hushed whispers while Adrien stared at the pentagram. He’d thrown away so much for a curse that wasn’t real. He’d ruined so many things.
A few minutes later, Marinette came over, kneeling beside him. Her eyes were no longer burning with fury, and she pulled him into a tight hug, stroking his hair gently, “Oh, I’m so sorry you had to go this, Adrien,”
He shook his head, sobbing harder. Marinette shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Not when she’d been nothing but kind to him. Adrien sat up, returning Marinette's embrace before moving his hands to her face.
“No, you’re not– I should be–” he shook his head. “I’m so sorry,” Adrien choked out, rubbing his thumb along Marinette’s cheekbone.
She laughed, “For what, being an insufferable idiot?”
“Yeah,” Adrien laughed through the tears, his mouth drifting closing to hers, “For that,”
She shrugged, lacing her fingers together at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, “It’s alright,” she said with a mischievous smile, “I happen to have a thing for insufferable idiots,”
Adrien huffed another laugh across her lips before she erased any distance between them, the rest of the room fading away.
That is, until his parabatai– his precious, lovely, absolutely stupid, mood-ruining parabatai– called out. “Hey guys, I’m still here!”
He waved Nino off, pulling Marinette into another kiss. Everything else could wait another day. Adrien had much more important things right there in his arms.