Welcome, one and all. Yes, I have been sucked into this fandom against my will. I had to do a lot of research on American football, also known as football, gridiron, or gridiron football, for this undertaking. All references to football are referring to the American version unless specifically stated otherwise.
Despite the countless articles I have read on the subject, not all of my information is accurate, either due to oversight or plot convenience.
I do not own Miraculous Ladybug, nor do I think any of this would happen or should happen. All of this is based off an idea that came to us (Courage and Love) and weebqueen101 at a football game. This is dedicated to her.
"I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win!"
Marinette Dupain-Cheng tightened her coat around herself and shivered. It was a wet autumn afternoon, and she was in the midst of the first American football game of the school year. Alya was on her left, cheering enthusiastically, and Nino was on her right, whooping as their team scored a point.
Normally, none of them would have attended as they were more interested in other activities, but this year, three of their classmates were on the team. Ivan, Kim, and… Adrien.
Marinette suppressed a dreamy sigh. He looked so different from the other players on the team, so much more amazing. More extraordinary. Probably very few people knew the lengths it had taken for him to even try out for the team.
American football was different from other sports for the reason that it tended to result in more injuries than others. Naturally, Gabriel Agreste had been adamant about not letting his son play, but when Adrien rallied the entire student body against him, he relented on the condition that by no means would he be allowed to continue if he suffered even the slightest injury. Adrien took the deal.
"I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win!"
The students of Françoise Dupont were cheering loudly, using a popular English chant in place of France's most common World Cup cheer because the opposing team had begun using that already at the start of the game, and Alya had decided to change up their own school's chant to be unique. Chloé and Sabrina were the only ones not participating, of course.
"Come on, Adrikins!" Chloé exclaimed, standing to the side of the bleachers and paying more attention to the pictures she was taking of the model with her phone than the game itself. Her redheaded underling gave dirty looks to anyone who violated the personal space of the mayor's daughter.
Marinette normally would have been disgusted with her nemesis for having only one reason for attending the game, but she was guilty of the same thing. Her eyes never left Adrien, tracking him as he made passes and totally rocked the padded uniform.
He was number 13. His position was… well, Marinette didn't know, but if she asked Nino he would tell her. Not that she would know what it meant anyway. And he was dazzling.
"I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win!"
"–inette? Marinette!"
Marinette snapped her head up to look at Alya, who seemed annoyed.
"I called your name five times, M. What's the matter? Can't hear over the crowd, or is a certain someone taking up all your concentration?"
Marinette flushed but nodded, and Alya shook her head knowingly. "I won't bother you, then."
She snapped her fingers. "Tell you what; Nino and I are going to go grab some snacks, and you keep an eye on the game. Want anything?"
Marinette smiled, declining, and Alya dragged Nino out of the bleachers and through the crowd. Marinette watched them push past Chloé and Sabrina before turning her attention back to Adrien.
The helmeted boy hadn't made any major passes yet due to the position he played, but he was putting all of his effort into the game, she could tell. More effort than Kim or Ivan in her opinion.
"I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win!"
"The chances of our team winning the game are approximately 89.9 percent," she overheard Max say from his seat a row above her. "By my calculations – no, that's not a 'nerd phrase,' Alix – our players are exceedingly proficient compared to the opposing team. The only way they could steal back the victory is if the other team's star quarterback, Vincent Monteil, fakes a forward pass to the wide receiver in a trick play with our team falling for it."
Marinette turned in her spot to face her classmate. She found him, Alix, and Mylène deep in conversation. Mylène waved at her.
"You sure know a lot about gridiron football, Max," the short girl said, turning her attention back to the others. She sounded surprised, with good reason.
"I studied," he answered proudly. "Besides, I like sports. Just because I prefer gaming doesn't mean I can't enjoy both. Sports are just memorization and statistical analysis, anyway."
"You just had to take all the fun out of it," Alix grumbled, resting her cheek on her propped-up knee. "But I love American football. Running, shoving, and tackling are my three favorite things."
"And making bets that Kim gets a concussion from tonight's game," Max added.
"That, too."
"He might," Mylène said, studying the field. "Vincent Monteil is scary. I hope Ivan doesn't get tackled by someone that big."
Marinette looked back at the game. It was easy to pick out the tallest player on the opposing team. She suddenly felt very worried for Adrien.
A whistle was blown. Vincent Monteil started the kickoff, and while Marinette didn't know the proper terminology, she could see him running down the field, ball in hand. Then, suddenly, he was blocked by two players, and she suppressed a gasp when he crashed into the first and his arms slammed into the second. Marinette saw a flash of yellow being tossed onto the field – the penalty flag.
"Is that normal for American football?" Mylène asked Max and Alix worriedly. "I've never been to a game before."
"Me neither," Marinette murmured, not blinking in fear of missing something. The referee was walking onto the gridiron field, waving his hands a lot. The two players on their team were on the ground, and the referee helped them up.
"Vincent went for the trick play," Max translated, adjusting his glasses. "He hit number 24 hard – that's Kim, if I'm not mistaken. My guess is that it was by accident, and it was certainly accidental when Vincent violated the regulation of no chop-blocks being allowed when he rammed number 13."
"Number 13?" Marinette repeated in alarm, springing from her seat. Adrien!
He and Kim seemed to be all right, but she couldn't really tell from her viewpoint. The referee led them to the sidelines. She could see Vincent Monteil shouting and waving his arms. A man, possibly a coach, strode over to him, probably with the intent to calm him down, but the large football player shrugged him off. The spectators on Marinette's side were still cheering loudly, but the kids from the other school had quieted to whispers, watching their star player anxiously.
"15 yard penalty," Alix said, reclining on her tier of the bleachers, "and Monteil's not taking it well."
"I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win!"
Marinette's brow furrowed. She desperately wanted to know if Adrien was okay, but it wasn't like she could find out without actually walking onto the gridiron field. Maybe Alya and Nino would be able to find out from the people near the snack stand. She would have to ask them once they returned.
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice when the marching band began to play on the field. Looking up in confusion, she said, "What's going on?"
"It's half-time," Max replied, uncharacteristically brief. He seemed absorbed in the band's music, tapping the rhythm on his leg.
"Oh." Marinette didn't know what half-time entailed, but she guessed the players would be taking a relatively long break. If Adrien was hurt he would be resting now, which was good.
"I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win! I believe that we will win!"
For some reason, Marinette's school was still chanting, despite the fact that the teams were no longer playing. The cheer had decreased in strength, but it was still discernable in the cacophony of instruments and voices.
Mere seconds after the chant's most recent verse finished, a blinding light flashed in the sky. The whole crowd gasped, ducking when something rocketed to the center of the gridiron field.
It was an akuma; that much was obvious. It seemed to be the biggest one by far. Marinette groaned, knowing she would have to slip away in the chaos and transform.
The akumatized person's eyes flashed white-hot. "No," he growled in response to the crowd's abruptly ceased cheer. "I believe that I will win."
Vincent Monteil was angry. He hadn't meant to shove that scrawny kid or slam into the taller one, but the referee thought it had been intentional. 15 yard penalty. That play had been his team's last resort. There was no hope of winning the game now.
When the whistle blew to signal half-time, he wasted no time in storming off the playing field. His teammates didn't come after him. Why should they? He was known at his school for being a sore loser, although he was widely respected for his talent.
Vincent stomped past the locker room where his teammates would be headed. There was a small area around the corner outside, which was completely in shadow in the evening light. Vincent stopped there, pressing his back against the wall as he took off his helmet.
"I did not deserve a penalty," he spat aloud, throwing his helmet roughly to the ground. Unnoticed by him, a black butterfly glowing with dark violet magic landed on the discarded headgear.
"Most Valuable Player," a voice, smooth and deep, said suddenly in his ear. It seemed to touch his very soul. "I can offer you revenge on the opposing team, if you do a favor for me in return. Bring me Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous, and you will never be on the losing side again."
Vincent smiled. That sounded like the perfect offer.
"I accept."
He scooped up his helmet, and dark magic spread across his form. Things were about to get interesting.