Chapter Text
Marinette (She/Her)
The glow from Marinette's lamp pooled gently over her desk, casting soft shadows across the open pages of her journal. She sat cross legged in her desk chair, hair still damp from her post-patrol shower, pen tapping gently on the page.
Tomorrow's Schedule
Monday (01/03/25) (its french so its day/month/year)
- 530 Wake up!!
- Be out of house by 540—with a protein shake
- (don't forget to feed the cat because he's a hungry ho)
- Arms and back day! Focus on slow, controlled movements and heavy weights
- 630 meet Adrien (!!) for morning jog :D
- 715 back home for breakfast—I’m thinking yogurt + berries and some pastries
- Don’t forget lunch! Carrots + hummus, grilled garlic chicken, and roasted potatoes
- Yummy munches fr. I should use those toothpick-fork things Mom got the other day for my carrots
- 730 at the latest get ready for school—we cannot be late anymore we gotta get it together
- I put a fit together earlier today its hanging in the wardrobe on the hanger, its very cutie patootie don’t forget
- OUT OF HOUSE BY 745 NOT ANY LATER MME. BUSTIER WILL BE DISAPPOINTED IF WE’RE LATE AGAIN THIS MONTH!!
- School starts at 8 but it's literally a 5 minute walk, so talk to your literal boyfriend before class, even though you’ve already seen him
- You gotta keep him wrapped around your finger as long as possible so he doesn’t run off and fall in love with, like, Lady Noire or something (I’m hilarious, I know. Please, please, hold the applause)
- We know how school works, dw about it too much it is what it is
- 3 school gets out, quick one hour lap around the city, make sure no ones dying or anything
- Be home by 4 to do homework and chores, help clean up the bakery, and have some free time
- Maybe sketch out some new suit ideas :)
- Ooh ooh make sure to make some snacks to pick up after joint patrol
- 630 dinner with the fam, make sure there's extra for lunch tomorrow
- 715 clean up before patrol with Bug
- 9 wrap up patrol (hopefully) and hang out with Bug
- Make sure to go over patrol schedule for the week
- Monday/Wednesday joint patrol
- Tuesday/Friday/Saturday Lady alone
- Thursday/Sunday Bug alone
- Be home around 1030 to be in bed by 11 cause we gotta get that beauty rest 💪
She made sure to emphasize patrol, underlining it twice. It wasn’t like there was any big threat brewing, but she didn’t like to take chances. Besides, she had some training in mind for the both of them tomorrow night if it was quiet enough.
Well, Marinette wasn’t naïve enough to believe the silence would last, but she was prepared for the both of them if it did. Tomorrow’s entertainment would be an obstacle course through the city, working on stamina and agility—along with the added bonus of getting better at memorizing the city from above.
It would be an easy night. Nice, even.
She just hoped it would stay that way.
This night hadn’t been the same, unfortunately. There was a massive fight with a new akuma, some kind of snake-lizard-monster-thing that absolutely whooped them. At least, it got her pretty dang good, slashing its claws deep into her back and leaving her defenseless until her Bug could cure everything.
That was the not-super-fun part of this—not like there were a ton of positives to literally fighting crime every night. While Bug cured almost everything, and his powers wiped other peoples trauma, he couldn’t keep the scars from her body sometimes. And he never could wipe her memory.
Not that he knew this, of course—how could she tell him? He walked away free—free of guilt, free of trauma. And she… she was still sinking. Further. And further. Each time.
No. She wouldn’t tell him. And she wouldn’t let these scars influence her suit either. Not as long as she could help it, at the bare minimum. Sometimes, when she thought a little too long and hard about old fights, they manifested with her suit when she transformed, scaring the living shit out of her the first time it happened.
But, regardless, that lizard monster akuma gouged out her back tonight, and boy was she sore. And although she journaled about her injuries, in this exact journal actually, she could never talk about it with anyone but Plagg—this was her secret to keep.
Marinette turned to the back of her planner, scribbling some last notes about suit designs that have been on her mind. She knew she could manipulate her suit depending on the situation, but it occurred to her that if she couldn’t visualize what she was going to change to, it didn’t work quite right. The curse of not having a photographic memory.
She flipped the book shut, ready to curl up in bed with her nice warm blankets and leave everything for Tomorrow Marinette. She placed the journal back in its drawer, beneath the false bottom she installed, and reached to turn her lamp off, casting the room into familiar darkness.
Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself. Tomorrow will come. It always does. And when it does, she’ll be ready. She’s got everything planned, nothing could surprise her. Not anymore.
Releasing the breath, she got up and made her way up the ladder to her bed, crawling under the covers sluggishly, sleep consuming her almost instantly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The shrill chirping of her alarm sliced through the previous quiet of the room.
Marinette groaned.
For a moment, she just lay there tangled in her blankets. Staring into the very early morning light—dawn just barely peeking over the horizon through her window. The alarm kept going. Relentless. Good god, what did she do to deserve such horrible treatment?
She squinted just one eye open, blindly swatting around until her fingers finally found her phone, turning off the blasted thing with one heavenly tap. Blessed silence.
“Five-thirty,” she mumbled into her pillow. “Why do I do this to myself?”
Plagg stirred somewhere above her head, kicking out with his–surprisingly strong–hind legs. Apparently being an all powerful kwami wasn’t enough for him, so he transformed into an actual cat to sleep because, quote, “there's nothing quite like a true ‘cat nap’”.
“Something about ‘discipline building strength’ or whatever,” he supplied helpfully. Yeah, there was always something strange about having a cat that spoke to her, kwami or not.
“Discipline schmisipline,” she responded, reaching up to scratch Plagg’s very soft belly. “All of this just sounds like it could’ve been another hour of sleep to me.”
Still, Marinette forced herself up, stretching her arms above her head and twisting her slightly less sore back—satisfying pops filling the air. Looking at her lazy cat, she saw he had barely opened one eye, glaring at her with those iconic green eyes.
“You know, since you’re up, you better not forget my breakfast again,” He grumbled, rolling over to stretch out his arms and legs. “I had dreams of cheese and pastries before your demon alarm woke me.”
“Okay, it was one time, and you know it,” She turned around fully to pick him up and toss him to the foot of her bed, effectively kicking him out of his favorite spot. “Besides, I literally fed you after patrol. Last night .”
He just let out a very exaggerated yawn, pawing at her feet. “Oh! So you want me to starve. Do you want me to faint from hunger? It's very tragic. Very French.”
Oh lord what did she do to deserve this drama king of a cat?
With a long, heavy sigh, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and slid off to the ground—she doesn’t even bother with the ladder to get down anymore. “You’re a menace,” she muttered, but there was no real bite to it. “Come on, you dramatic little bitch. Let's get this day going.”
She reached back up to scratch under his chin, then padded toward the trapdoor.
And so it begins. Again.