Chapter Text
It was stupid really.
Stupid and brash and a whole bunch of other words Marinette couldn’t conjure up through the pounding in her head. She thought she had planned for the worst when Alya told her they had big things in store for them on the night of her 18th birthday, but apparently Marinette was unable to grasp the full scope of her best friend’s intentions.
See for her, “big” meant loud music and dancing, maybe a night on the town followed by a 1 am pizza splurge before graciously falling in to bed sometime after. Big was crazy colorful lipstick and embarrassing selfies in the back of the cab. Big was a synonym for fun, a night she would recall fondly for years to come.
Yet for Alya, the word seemed to take on an entirely new meaning.
Alya’s big was surprising Marinette with a party bus (one graciously “borrowed” from her mother’s hotel) packed with 20 of their closest friends.
Alya’s big was body shots and stripper pole shenanigans as their group made their way downtown.
Alya’s big was closing down the club, throwing cake in the supermarket, taking a dip in the Seine, and leading her classmates on an impromptu hunt for Ladybug and Chat Noir through the dark streets of Paris. It was gate-jumping, police-fleeing, swan-bitten (don’t ask) BIG.
And unfortunately for Marinette, Alya’s big included a trip to the tattoo parlor.
“How bad is it?” She groaned, sweeping her hair away so Tikki could get a good look at her neck.
“I think it looks nice…” The kwami giggled, holding up a tiny mirror so her charge get a glance at herself.
“Well I think it looks like a drunken mistake!” Marinette nearly yelled, wincing as her own loud voice reverberated through her rattling skull. She sighed, adjusting the mirror in her hand to fully assess the damage.
Yep. There it was.
Stinging as bad as it had the night before, the tiny design sat dead center at the back of her neck, situated right below her hairline. The skin around it was slightly flushed, and Marinette let out another groan at this idea it could possibly infected. But if her memory of last night served correct (which lets face it, there was about a 50/50 chance at this point in her hangover) she recalled the tattoo artist telling her that a little redness was normal.
“Just keep it clean and keep it moisturized and it will heal up in no time.” He had said, to which Marinette responded with a vaguely affirmative sound before the recollection cut off once again. The next memory she could conjure was at the park, something about breadcrumbs and then….oh god so many feathers….
Marinette shivered, shutting down the thought before she threw up for the second time that morning (afternoon).
Seeing as though she only had a measly 18 hours before she had to wake up for school the next day, the teen made the executive decision to put off being regretful in order to devote her full attention where it really mattered…to her bed. In fact Marinette just managed to send a mass text, confirming her friend where still alive, before she nuzzled once more beneath her covers. She silently prayed for another akuma-less night, falling into a dead slumber.
And when Marinette woke up on Monday morning, feeling marginally better from her uninterrupted dreams, she silently thanked every deity she could call upon that Hawkmoth had allowed her to sleep soundly. With a swipe of under eye concealer, a comfy pair of sweatpants, and hair falling loose across her shoulders, Marinette managed to convince her parents she wasn’t completely demolished. Hell she even made it to school on time, flashing an equally beat Alya a weak thumbs up before settling in for class.
Yes, it seemed like her good fortune had pulled through once again, despite the tiny, black cat she had tattooed along the nape of her neck.