Hi again!

I ended up getting more done on the next four chapters (that's right, I'm almost done!) than I expected, so I thought why not give you guys another one? This particular chapter is special. It was the first I wrote and the rest of the story was born from it. It's also where the M rating kicks in, for all you sinners. It's a wee bit intense, fair warning.

Also, my last prom is tomorrow. Tis bittersweet, and motive to write.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to tear everything apart. Everything felt so out of control,and just below the surface. The crippling guilt coursed through his veins like novocaine, numbing everything in its path. He felt suffocated. He felt trapped. He couldn't think, he could hardly breath.

Chat hurtled himself from rooftop to rooftop, pointedly ignoring Marinette's balcony when it came into view. He couldn't face her, not after what he did. She believed in him, she trusted him, and he'd failed her. He broke his promise to the city. It was a moment of weakness that had been paid for in blood. He shakily gained his bearings, looking to see where his guilt ridden mind had taken him. The Eiffel Tower met his gaze first. It glimmered in the moonlight, just as it always had. It seemed to have forgotten the tragedy that had taken place at its feet. But Chat knew he never would. The memories would alway be as clear in his mind as they were right now. They haunted him, twisted his mind and chased his sanity in circles. His claws scraped through his hair in panic. Get away. He had to get away. With his staff, he flung himself forward. He landed with a grunt in the shadowy park, some part of his mind grateful it was vacant. He stumbled over to the the burbling fountain, kneeling before it, he clumsily splashed water on his face. Blinking the drops from his lashes, he peered at his reflection with contempt. The boy in the water glared right back, lips forming a fanged snarl that seemed to be worryingly independent.

"The great hero of Paris," the reflection drawled. "Who will be your next victim?"

Chat angrily swiped his claws across the cold surface, distorting the image to a black and gold blur. He stepped away quickly before it could reform, desperately attempting to regain control of his wayward mind. The wind came in a gust, dancing with his hair and rushing to gather dry leaves from the ground that still remained despite the months of snow. It swirled them around like trophies and brought them to rest at the looming carousel before him. Chat swallowed painfully. There was something different about it, feeling slightly offbeat. When had it lost its cheerful colors? When had it become so threatening? He carefully approached it, half expecting the wooden horses to come to life and gallop around him. He stepped onto it lightly, the old platform creaking softly under his weight. Somehow, it was even more menacing up close. He studied the expression on the first horse, while it once portrayed winnie's of excitement, now seemed to hold a deranged scream.

"Adrien…" a voice sang sweetly.

His head darted to next horse, hairs dancing on the back of his neck. Despite all the others easily visible in the gloom, this one seemed unable to evade the shadows. Nothing more than a black silhouette. Something wasn't quite right about, he decided swiftly. It was...out of place somehow. Did its neck always bend like that?

"Adrien," the voice called out teasingly. "I know what you did."

Chat shivered. "W-who are you?"

It giggled. "Why don't you come closer and find out for yourself?"

He stepped closer with uncertainty to the second horse, his blood cooling. He swallowed hard. Something about it was terribly, terribly wrong.

"I-I…" he stammered out.

"Hmm? Still can't figure it out? Let me shed some light on the subject."

Adrien blinked as the colorful lights bordering the ride came to life, but dimmer than he remembered them to be. Like someone tried to cover them with a black sheet, drowning everything in dull, red color. He glanced down at his hands. When had he transformed back?

"Look at me, Adrien." the voice called again, but all mirth had vanished from its tone.

Adrien spared a glance, and immediately wished he hadn't. The horse's body was twisted and broken, hanging grotesquely from the brass pole. Something bright red dripped and stained its white coat in a sickening contrast. It's face was dull, but it's bleeding eyes were very much alive, staring down at him with contempt. Adrien collapsed on the wooden platform in object horror, fighting the nausea that threatened to overcome him.

"You did this to me!" the voice screamed. "It's all your fault!"

"I still don't understand! Who are you?" he cried out hoarsely.

"Do I really need to spell it out for you? No wonder you were too dumb to save me. Look in the mirrors."

Hesitantly, he turned his gaze to the center of the carousel, a thick column lined with mirrors that seemed to be changing their reflection. An image warped slowly in place, like a photograph under the surface of a pond. Someone was falling. Calling for him. No. Calling for Chat. Screaming for him. He saw himself leaping into the air and following her, getting closer, closer, never quite reaching…

Adrien never noticed when the carousel started spinning.

The mirror froze on a bloodied corpse, with lifeless eyes and bent out of shape in a way that was uncomfortably familiar. Adrien vomited, squeezing his eyes closed, trying to shut out the image.

"I'm sorry!" he cried out, hands ripping at his hair. "I'm so sorry!"

"You're 'sorry'?" the world spun by in a blurr. "A whole lot of good that does for me! I'm gone forever all because of you! You should've been the one to fall. You're the hero after all. What good is a hero who can't save?"

Adrien violently heaved at the base of the broken horse, muttering out desperate apologies.

"You're a failure! It should've been you!"

The carousel spun at in impossible speed, but he refused to cling to any of the demented horses that all began to let out screams and screeches.

Adrien sobbed. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"You shouldn't be here! You should be dead!"

He held his eyes shut, praying to anyone willing to listen. Begging for it to end, but the screams only got louder, the carousel spun faster, and the memory repeated itself without mercy. Adrien briefly found himself wondering about hell before everything went black

"Adrien?" a quiet voice asked.

The boy snapped up, realizing that all else had gone eerily silent. The carousel no longer moved, the horses no longer screamed. Slowly, he moved his eyes to the bloodied horse, finding to be as it had always been before. Shiny, white and regal. The mirrors in turn held only his reflection, and the reflection of the tiny black kwami hovering above his head.

He fixed his gaze on his companion cautiously. "Plagg?" he rasped.

"I'm here, kid." he spoke softly, as if any noise at all would shatter his chosen. At this point, Plagg wouldn't be surprised if it did. "Come on, let's get out of here. This place gives me the creeps."

Adrien nodded weakly, grimacing at the contents of his stomach, which had puddled and splattered all over the wood. "I s-should clean up."

Plagg raised a paw dismissively. "Don't sweat it. This thing is older than you, I'm sure it's had it's fair share of pukers. The rain will clean it off. Seriously, we need to leave."

"I don't wanna go home."

"That's great, 'cause that's not where I was gonna tell you to go."

The pillow was stiff with dried tears by the time she'd managed to quell her sobs, though her trembling had yet to recede. Tikki was curled quietly next to her head, knowing any comfort she could offer would seem meaningless and dead. Deep down, Marinette knew it was impossible for the good guys to win every time. Her kwami had told her time and time again. Loss was something she had to learn to accept. But she had still believed losing to any degree wasn't an option. Sure, other people might not succeed every time, other people may lose, but they weren't Ladybug and Chat Noir. They didn't have a magic yoyo that could fix anything.

Well, almost anything.

Tears pricked at her sore eyes again. Why couldn't she have gotten there in time?

She should've let the akuma go. It wasn't worth a life. It wouldn't have been all that hard to track it down if she had just waited. Five minutes would have been all it took. Her yoyo would've easily been able to save them both. She had barely saved him.

Marinette buried her face in her pillow with a sob. She had failed Paris. She failed everyone who had believed in her. She let herself believe that she was invincible, and her mishap had unspeakable consequences. Pride always comes before a fall, Tikki had told her once. She laughed bitterly at the irony. Somehow, she always thought that she'd be the one falling. She never thought someone else would pay for her mistake.

She raised her head and grabbed a tissue from the box next to her on the bed, wiping fresh tears off her sticky face.

Would she ever be able to be Ladybug again?

Tap tap tap.

Marinette stiffened. She'd completely forgotten about poor Chat. She had been lucky and not seen the worst of the accident, but he had. His face had been an upsetting mix of shock and horror, quickly shoving her away from the scene and shielding her. Don't look, my Lady. his voice had been so broken. Don't look.

She stood up on shaky legs, stumbling once or twice as she reached for the latch on the skylight. His green eyes peered at her with a sadness she'd never seen on anyone, and her already broken heart cracked a little farther.

"Hey, Princess," his voice was scratchy from crying. "Can I come in?"

She gave him her best attempt at a smile, stepping away to give him room to land. "Always, Chaton."

He dropped onto her bed soundlessly and adjusted himself, visibly disoriented. Marinette settled back down herself.

"I heard about what happened today," she started softly.

He laughed bitterly, rubbing his eyes with a gloved hand. "I'm sure everyone did."

She chewed her lip nervously. "Do you...wanna talk about it?"

Chat's head twisted to face her, his expression almost frightening. "Talk about what exactly,Marinette? How my little fuck up cost someone their life? How someone is dead because of me?"

She flinched at his tone, choosing her next words carefully. "It wasn't just your fault. Ladybug failed to save her too."

"No. Don't bring her into this. She was doing her job, going after the akuma. I'm the backup. it's my job to cover for her. And I fucked it. This is on me."

"Chat-"

He held up a hand to silence her. "No. I don't wanna talk about it anymore. I just want to forget."

Marinette sighed sadly. "T-that's fine. Would you want to watch a movie or something? That might get your mind off it." she mentally kicked herself for how shallow it sounded. It was hard to be sympathetic when she had to remove herself from the situation.

Chat stared at her. A movie? While he appreciated her efforts to lift his spirits, he knew it would take far more than that. He needed to feel. He needed something to overpower his senses, some part of his brain insisted. Something that would completely numb the pain. "No," he said finally. "I need something else."

She nodded slowly. "Of course. What is it?"

He stared at her long and hard. There was something uncomfortable in the way his lips twitched into a smirk. It lacked its usual playfulness, it looked cold. Before she had a chance to thoroughly ponder it, the black cat had pounced, pinning her wrists above her head and pushing her deeper into the plush mattress. Marinette stifled a cry of surprise as he straddled her hips, looking up to a pair of green eyes she suddenly didn't recognize. "You." he spoke lowly, her insides twisting in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasurable. "I need you." he swiftly pressed his lips to hers in a way that shot right to her core, as much as she tried to ignore it.

His kiss was rough and demanded dominance, but never painful. Still, it was not what she had imagined or hoped for. For the first time, she no longer felt safe with him. She gasped as he detached his lips from hers, dragging them down the column of her neck in a way that made her squirm. "Ah-h! Chat, I don't know if we- ah!-should be doing this. You don't seem like yourself."

He paused for a moment at her collarbone, glancing back up at her with darkened eyes, teasing smirk in place. "Are you complaining, Princess?"

He gently nipped the base of her neck, and she arched into his touch with a soft moan, to her great embarrassment. "N-no, but-"

"Then there's no harm, is there?"

She hesitated. "I guess not."

Chat gave her a fanged grin and turned his attention back to his previous task, pushing the the thin straps of her pink pajama top down her arm. He left a trail of kisses down her throat to her shoulder, delighting in every pleasured cry she tried to suppress. He released her wrists, dropping down to the hem of her tank top, claws tugging it up to reveal her toned stomach. He ran his fingers across the bare skin and gave a husky chuckle. "I never knew you worked out."

"You never asked," Marinette prayed he hadn't noticed the way her voice hitched when he planted a kiss just below her ribcage, but the smug smirk he wore as he gently worked her top up swiftly crushed the hope.

In a moment of horror, Marinette quickly snatched her shirt and held it in place. "Chat! I don't- I'm not not wearing anything under this."

"Mari, that sounds like the opposite of a problem."

She chewed her lip nervously, completely unaware of how it drove him wild.

Should she do this? Chat wasn't himself, he might regret it later. Hell, she'd probably regret it later. But would he leave if she refused him? Would it make him more vulnerable to an akuma? She shuddered internally. Akumatized Chat Noir was not something she wished to dwell on, much less deal with.

"Ok," she decided quietly. "But you have to promise not to judge."

Chat leaned down and buried his face in her neck with a purr. She shivered. "What is there to judge, princess? You're perfection."

His hand found the hem of her shirt again, and she lifted up from the bed to help him remove it completely. The air in the room suddenly seemed much cooler as it tickled her bare skin. She was exposed. Mari squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to see his reaction. If it was anything resembling disappointment, she didn't know how she could handle it.

Her blue ice shot open with a gasp as she felt a warm tongue drag agonizingly up her breast. Her hands involuntarily flew to his head and tangled with his hair. "Chat!" He gently nipped the plump flesh with growl in response. "See?" He mumbled against her chest. "Absolute perfection."

Marinette forgot how to breath as he continued his magic, giving every inch of exposed skin equal attention. Lightning bolts shot through her and puddled in her core, she shifted her hips against his absently, trying to find some much needed friction. Chat chuckled breathlessly into her shoulder. "Need some help there?"

A leather covered hand slowly found its way between her thighs, pressing lightly.

The panting girl yelped at the sensation, as it equally brought relief and fanned the flame. He applied a little more pressure, careful to keep his claws out of the equation.

She squirmed at his ministrations. "Don't tease me, Chaton."

"Sorry," and for the first time all evening, he sounded a bit like himself. "I just don't wanna risk hurting you." He waved a clawed hand to emphasis his point. She groaned, rocking herself against his hand the was just sitting there and not doing what she needed it to. "Figure something else out."

The smile he gave her was nothing short of devilish. "Your wish is my command." he leaned over to peck her lips.

Marinette didn't have a chance to respond before fingers hooked around the waistband of her soft cotton shorts, seamlessly pulling them down to her ankles. She gave up fighting the blush that tinted her cheeks as he slid her damp underwear off in a similar fashion. She slowly dared to take a peek at his reaction. His eyes had narrowed into slits, fangs were bared, and he looked for all intents and purposes like he was going to eat her alive.

Her scent had struck his nostrils the moment she'd been exposed and the effect it had on his enhanced senses had been indescribable. Half of him begged to ravish her while the other only wished to revere. Any doubt in his mind that she was a goddess had long since departed. "Marinette," he spoke, the sound of his own voice surprised him. "You are absolutely breathtaking."

Her face flushed scarlet and the scent only got stronger. It was too much for him. Chat dropped between her legs, feeling the last of his sanity pack up and board a plane. With a chaste kiss to her inner thigh, he turned his attention to her center, going in for the kill.

"Chat!" Her cry was far more desperate than before. The possessive growl left his mouth on it own accord.

He drug his tongue slowly and firmly through her folds, paying close attention to how she squirmed and whimpered. Curiously, he let himself taste her entrance, taking her pleasured gasp as permission to push in further. He tilted his head to allow him to sink in deeper. His tongue felt like it was about to be sawed off by his lower teeth, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. He peeked up at her, she was flushed and eyes squinted shut. Strains of hair stuck to her face with sweat.

He had gotten her to this state. This was the effect he had on her.

He licked harder, finding her bundle of nerves and watched her go wild. Her legs clamped his head into place, almost suffocating him, but he didn't care. What a way to go. She cried and thrashed, blindly looking for release. Broken bits of his name tumbled from her mouth.

He swirled his tongue around purposefully, trying to deliver what she begged for.

Marinette had lost herself. Black leather and gold hair were the only things to grace her thoughts. She could hardly process what she was feeling, it was too much and too little all at the same time. He fiercely worked between her legs and she wondered just how much more she could take. She wanted to beg for more and make him stop.

Gasping, she glanced down, a mop of gold with black ears greeted her. She tugged on the strands, just enough so she could see his eyes. They opened, staring at her with the same primitive look they held before. He drug his tongue over the nerves one more time, his gaze never leaving her flushed face.

That did it.

Stars exploded in her vision, she arched up from the bed with a sob. His name falling brokenly from her lips in a scream. He didn't stop until she relaxed, riding out the waves of her release with her. He turned his head and sank his teeth into her inner thigh savagely, marking her.

She's mine.

Chat finally pulled himself away from her, staring at her panting form, senses slowly returning to him. She stared back at him, too shocked to say anything.

The smell hit him before he saw it, metallic and bitter and getting stronger. He recoiled in horror. Blood dripped down from her leg to her sheets, leaking from two identical wounds that looked like something out of an old vampire movie. Marinette reached down hesitantly.

"Chat? What is-," she gasped softly as her hand found the sticky red, bringing her fingers up to her gaping face.

He scampered to his feet. "I'm so…so sorry, Marinette. F-for everything. I don't know what came over me. That's no excuse, I know, but I...I," he tried to bite back the tears bubbling behind his eyes, and he reached for the skylight, refusing to look at her. "Chat! Wait, please!" He raced up to her balcony, leaping away, fresh sobs tearing through him.

What had he done?