Sometimes you just see a concept on tumblr and like. You just gotta run with it, you know?

I wrote almost this entire thing while I was at work. I was supposed to be doing heavy, manual labor, and instead, I was hiding behind a curtain and writing fanfiction. Lord have mercy on my soul.

Not quite sure at what pace I'll be posting new chapters but the whole thing is pretty much written, so it should all be up by the end of the year, sometime in January at the latest. Subscribe for updates obviously (or if you'd like to take a crack at figuring out who I've personally headcanoned as having been previous miraculous holders which there will be a quick allusion to in the next chapter), and enjoy!


"I…I don't know, Marinette. I'm getting kinda nervous. How do I look? Do I look okay? Is my shirt wrinkled? Is my hair standing up? Oh shoot, I haven't brushed my teeth in like three hours, are they too dull?"

"Adrien. Breathe."

"Absolutely not, I know not the meaning of the word."

Marinette rolled her eyes. She stood up off the couch and walked over to her husband who was pacing back and forth anxiously across the floor of the living room, desperately trying to subdue his already overly tidied hair. She placed a gentle hand on his right shoulder and he looked up.

"This won't go over well for anyone if you can't calm down," she told him. "I know it's nerve-wracking. But it's going to be okay."

"I know, I just…it's been so long since I've seen her? And I really thought that was it. I just…the chance to speak to my mother again…it's something others could only dream of…and I'm so scared. I mean, what if I'm not the man she wanted me to be? What if she expected more of me?"

Marinette started cackling. She didn't mean to lose her cool, but the idea of Adrien not living up to his mother's expectations was…well, laughable.

"It's not funny!" Adrien said. "What if I'm not good enough? I mean…I never was for my father…"

"Hey!" Marinette snapped as she jolted out of her fit of laughter. "You watch that mouth." She pointed accusingly up at Adrien. He wavered just a bit. She was never any less scary when she got angry, even if he knew she was about to compliment him. "Gabriel Agreste was a half-decent fashion designer for like. A decade. But he was never a good enough person to have a son like you. Quit undermining your worth or I'll…I don't know, revoke Plagg."

"PLEASE DO!" Adrien laughed, throwing his hands in the air. "If anyone is not helping me cope right now, it's Plagg. The greatest gift you could possibly offer me would be shutting him up. Do you know I've named all six of my grey hairs after him?"

"I thought there were seven?"

"I couldn't handle the one in my bangs. I yanked it."

"Jesus Adrien, you're coming up on 30, grey hairs happen."

"I AM A YOUNG AND CHIPPER 28 AND A HALF, THANK YOU."

Another eye roll.

"Okay, first off, Plagg can hear everything you're saying."

"Yes I can!" Plagg called from the other room.

"GOOD!" Adrien yelled back at his friend, fully aware that Plagg wouldn't dare be genuinely insulted by any of his mocking. They'd grown to match each other's sass over the years.

"Adrien," Marinette said over a chuckle. "You don't have to do this. And you don't have to do it now, either. It's okay." Adrien sighed and looked down. He swallowed hard.

"Yes, I do, Marinette." He took a few steps forward and sat down on the couch, legs open, arms resting on his knees, and hands draped in between. He hung his head down and Marinette moved to sit with him. She took the spot to his right and placed her arm around his shoulders comfortingly. She said nothing, waiting for him to speak again.

"I just…I'd always wondered…ever since my dad…I'd always wondered if after all that work he put into trying to bring my mother back—and granted, there were probably better methods than global terrorism—but I always wondered. Like what was it all for? He really spent years trying to bring her back…just for nothing. And of course I would never abuse the miraculous like that, you know that, but I've just wondered for years if…well if there was ever a point? He destroyed himself and our family more than what was already broken, irreparably, and in the end, after all that, all the insanity…I didn't even get to say goodbye to my mother?"

Adrien paused for a minute before looking over at Marinette and picking back up frantically.

"And then we found out that my mother was a holder and you reminded me about the Kawagatamas and after finally reclaiming the peacock from Félix at my father's funeral—"

"Yeah I was there for that part, chaton, I remember."

"Right, yeah, sorry." He looked back at his feet. "Just…seeing that Nathalie was still too sick to even make it to the burial…and just knowing that there might be a way…to ask my mother if it was at all worth it? To just see her one more time? I haven't spent the last six months fighting Hawkmoth—sorry, 'Painted Lady,'" he emphasized with air quotes and an eyeroll, "with the peacock miraculous for nothing, you know? Like don't get me wrong, I love Duusu. But I'm definitely more of a destruction guy. Emotion just doesn't quite suit me the same way."

"Okay," Marinette started, "first of all, if I'd call anyone an 'emotion guy,' it'd be you."

"Hilarious."

"Second, you've been fighting great lately. And I'm sure Plagg is enjoying the time off anyway." Plagg zipped through the room and landed on Adrien's shoulder.

"You bet I am," he sighed. "You're doing great as a feathered fighter, Adrien. Why don't we just keep Chat Noir to holidays? I've been very productive lately, I've developed a whole cataloging system for my cheeses with all the time I have now."

Adrien raised a brow. "Plagg, I'm not a feathered fighter, I'm fighting feathers. I'm coasting off Claritin and sheer willpower every time I transform."

"Well, whatever," Plagg said with a shrug, starting back to wherever he had been hanging out with Tikki before. "Your misery benefits me. At least now I'll be able to find my exact right slice of brie at the drop of a hat based on how gooey I want it that day. Now where did I put my spreadsheet?"

Adrien looked at Marinette. "He's insane."

Marinette pursed her lips. "Always has been." She stood up and sat on the coffee table in front of Adrien, holding him by the shoulders and shaking him lightly with encouragement. "Adrien, I know a lot has happened." She let go. "But Duusu gave you your Kwagatama because you two connect. And you connected with him so quickly, because it's in your blood, and it's in your heart. Your mother would be exceptionally proud to see the man that you've become. I'm proud who you've become. You have dealt with so much adversity with all of the chaos that your father brought into your life, and you have never once stopped being a good person. No mother would be anything but proud of that."

Adrien smiled warmly at his wife, remembering why he'd always love her. It was this. She never missed a beat.

"I know there's still a lot we don't know about your parents and the miraculous," Marinette continued. "And I know you have a lot of things you never got to tell her. And this can be your chance for all of that." She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. "But only if you're ready."

Adrien grabbed Marinette by the wrists and yanked her into his lap. She let out a small yelp but then found herself in her husband's tight embrace, his face buried into the crook of her neck for safety. She closed her eyes and hugged him back tight, trying to make her hold feel as much like home to him as she possibly could. It did. They held each other there for a few moments until he mumbled into her neck.

"I am ready."

Marinette smiled. She knew he would be. She tightened her grip for reassurance.

"Then it's all you."