A/N: Okay, so this is the chapter that warrants the warnings. Brief sin and age gap. Mature theme of implied sexual predation from Adrien's perspective. Mild mention of blood. That's all I think you need to know to avoid spoilers. Also, this story is going to get weird and may or may not be classifiable as crackfic. IDK. Onwards and upwards!
Chapter 2: The Debut of Azura
Marinette was watering the plants on her balcony when the purple butterfly mask flickered onto her face and her mentor spoke to her.
"My dear Azura, the time has come for your first mission. Ladybug and Chat Noir are fighting my akuma near the Louvre with Vixenne. You will provide assistance."
"Yes, Hawk Moth," she obeyed. "Feathers flared!"
The mask vanished and her costume appeared. With one leap, she glided from her balcony to the next roof, and so forth until she reached her destination.
A large woman wrapped in towering vines was directing minions with flower crowns to attack the trio of heroes, laughing as she scattered seeds over the streets and called for her children to take back the city from urban blight and restore it to a garden paradise. The Lucky Trio was winning. That wouldn't do.
Landing on the point of the glass pyramid, she struck a pose with one hand on a cocked hip and a smirk on her lips. She whistled and three heads snapped towards her.
"Need a hand?"
"Um, we're okay, but any help would be appreciated, thanks!" Chat shouted to her.
"Oh, I wasn't talking to you," she laughed. "Ivy?"
"Azura. Good to meet Hawk Moth's new right hand," the plant-based akuma sighed in relief.
"WHAT?!" all three heroes shouted at once.
Azura snapped her wings open and glided down to kick Ladybug in the chest, sending her tumbling across the street into the hands of the flower children.
"I knew this was going to happen," Vixenne yelled.
"Since when can Hawk Moth make multiple akumas at once?" Chat complained.
Azura snapped her fans off her back and twirled her wrists. "Since I'm not an akuma," she purred, launching herself at the remaining members of the team.
"What?" Vixenne gasped as she fended off the flower children.
"Mm-hmm," she hummed as she slashed at Chat with violent grace. "Miraculous holders don't have to be on the side of law and order, you know."
"You... work... for Hawk Moth?" Chat panted as he desperately fended off her attacks with his baton.
"Yup. It's sort of an apprenticeship. Things were looking a little overbalanced in your favor, so he brought me on to even the odds."
"How did you get so good this fast?" he panted.
"Unlike you, I was given the opportunity to hone my skills for months before I made my debut."
"Whoever taught you to move like this has got to be something."
"Hawk Moth is a heck of a mentor," she responded with pride, following her statement with a sweeping kick at Chat's legs.
She snatched at his miraculous while he was down, but he rolled out of the way just in time.
"I don't suppose you'd consider switching sides?" he suggested with a charming grin.
She pretended to think about it. "For you, pretty kitty? Almost. But my loyalties lie with Hawk Moth."
She threw both fans at Chat only for Vixenne to tackle him out of the way. The fans whirled past him and he grinned in triumph, thinking she had lost her weapon, but then they curved back to her and she caught them deftly in her hands.
"Oh, come on!" he groaned.
"Let's switch dance partners, Chat Noir," Vixenne suggested.
"Fine by me," Azura replied with a grin. "Come and tango with me, foxy woman," she purred with a wink.
Vixenne blanched. "Are you... flirting with me?"
"You're pretty cute," she said with a shrug. "Work doesn't have to be without fun."
They fought hard, but it was clear that Azura had the advantage of training and experience. If it hadn't been for Ladybug escaping the flower children and coming to help, then Vixenne's miraculous would have been hers.
It was certainly a close call, but the heroes won that day. Ivy's flower bracelet was broken and she was returned to her human form, a petite woman with red hair and a green gardening apron. Miraculous Ladybug swarm fixed all of the streets that had been broken up by the sudden sprouting of trees.
Azura crouched by the de-evilized woman and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, I... think so. I don't really know what happened. The last thing I remember is being handed an eviction notice because I couldn't pay the taxes on my flower shop," she replied.
"Which flower shop?"
"The Thistle and Thorn," she answered.
"I have a feeling that things will work out for you," Azura informed her mysteriously.
She glanced up and saw Vixenne and the police closing in, Chat and Ladybug having left the scene to the sound of rapid beeping. Aura squeezed the woman's shoulder once more before backing away and doing a parkour move on a wall to get enough height to glide away from the do-gooders. She sailed through the skylight and dropped her transformation.
She looked down at her feet and scuffed her toes against the floor, cheeks burning with shame. "I failed you, Sir."
"No, my dear. You performed admirably, especially for a first effort," he reassured her with a hand on her arm. "I hardly expected you to win on your first try."
"You aren't disappointed in me?"
"We'll get them someday, even if it takes another year, another two years- however long is necessary. We will win."
The conviction in his voice was enough to convince her.
"Sir? Um, I have a request, if it's alright."
"What is it, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng?"
"The woman today, who became Ivy. She did her best to help us. She's going to lose her flower shop, and, um, I was wondering if you could maybe help her with a couple of payments so she can keep the Thistle and Thorn?" Marinette stammered hesitantly. "I mean, obviously you don't have to. I just thought it might be nice..."
He looked at her thoughtfully and she began to worry that she'd overstepped her bounds when his expression did not change, but then the smallest of smiles graced his face.
"I think that Agreste Fashions headquarters could use a little cheer," he said at last. "Perhaps I could put in an obscenely large order for flowers at a certain highly-recommended flower shop suggested by my intern and tip lavishly."
"Oh, thank you, Monsieur Agreste!" she exclaimed happily. "I really appreciate it."
"When one has wealth to spare, it would be selfish not to share it with someone who tried to help with his aspirations, especially if that person found herself in dire need of financial assistance. Besides, I could hardly refuse a heartfelt request from my only protege," he said with only the slightest trace of expression.
"I'll go home and get Duusu some grapes," she said with a knowing smile.
"Get some rest, my dear. You've earned it."
"He did what?" Adrien gasped.
"He sent her flowers," Alya repeated. "I swung by the bakery to grab a pastry and walk to school with Mari, and there they were. A giant bouquet of delphiniums, snapdragons, white hollyhock, and geraniums. They were all different shades of pink, except the hollyhocks. They were gorgeous, and when I asked who they were from, she showed me the card."
"What did it say, exactly?" Adrien pressed.
"'For my protege, In gratitude for your excellent work on the winter line. Keep it up and you will go far as a designer. Fondly, G. Agreste,'" Alya quoted.
"Fondly?" Adrien hissed. "My father isn't fond of anything. I knew something was up. I knew it!"
"Adrien, chill. Her parents read the card, too, and Tom and Sabine didn't seem concerned," Alya informed him. "Marinette was smiling about it."
"They don't know my father like I do," he insisted. "I'm worried about her."
"Adrien, what, specifically, are you worried about? Tell me. I want to know," Alya huffed with her arms crossed.
"I'm worried that my father might have... romantic feelings for Marinette," he confessed in the quietest of whispers.
"Are you sure you're not just jealous? Either of the attention Marinette gets from your father or of the time he gets to spend with Marinette?"
"Nino said the same thing," he grumbled. "But no. I really am worried about it. The casual touches, the gifts, the personal attention and the compliments- it's just too weird to be an innocent thing. I mean, I believe pretty strongly that Marinette just thinks he's being nice and that she doesn't see it, but I'm definitely suspicious of Father's motives. I want to keep her safe, but I just don't know who I'm supposed to tell about this," he growled in frustration, raking his hands through his hair.
"Nobody," Alya snarled with conviction.
"Come again?" he snapped. "Do you want anything like that to happen to your best friend?"
"First of all, Marinette can take care of herself. Second of all, you need to shut up about this because whether this is happening or not, whether it is mutual or not, a whiff of it to the wrong people could ruin her. She's a rising star in your father's company, and the fashion world is gonna take notice sooner rather than later. If your suspicions become a rumor and it spreads, her credibility would be destroyed. People are ruthless, especially in the fashion community and the media. They'd accuse her of sleeping her way to the top and never trust in her talent again. So here's what's going to happen," she hissed into his face, grabbing him by the lapels and yanking him so close that their noses pressed together.
"You're going to keep quiet about your little theory, and if you must, gather evidence or whatever subtly. If you find any actual concrete proof that your dad is creeping on my best friend, I'll help you kick his butt myself. Until then, you will not raise a fuss, you will not mention this to anyone, and you will be a model son and a supportive friend for Marinette. Is that understood?" she growled.
"Yes," he gulped. "I'll keep my investigation on the low-down."
"Good." She dropped his shirt and stepped back with a casual smile on her face. "Now let's forget about this little tiff and smile like nothing's wrong, mmkay?"
"Sure," he agreed, half fearfully, half sullenly. He understood that Alya had Mari's best interests at heart, but he was pretty sure that her priorities were in the wrong place.
Marinette would be safe if he had anything to say about it.
Other than the continuing casual touches and warm praise, nothing suspicious happened between his father and Marinette in the next couple of months.
Well, there was the time that Gabriel had made a call to her himself instead of having Nathalie do it, but that could have been because Nathalie was pretty busy that day.
That didn't mean that Adrien's worry relaxed any. He just found new things to worry about.
The new villain Azura was really good. If not for Vixenne, he was pretty sure that he and Ladybug would have been defeated by now. Even so, she was a tough opponent to beat. It didn't help that her miraculous power allowed her to see the future and looked scary as heck when she summoned it.
When Azura shouted, "Oracle Eye!" and made a gesture of crossing her arms over her chest in an X, her eyes snapped open glowing blue and her tail stood up, completely fanned out, with all of the eyes on the feathers open and staring like real, glowing eyeballs. It was pretty creepy and even though it only lasted a few seconds, it made him freeze up and shudder every time. When she snapped back into action, she seemed to be three steps ahead of the trio. Chat was concerned that she would actually win one day.
That concern shifted to be directed at Azura herself after a certain incident about four months into her new career as a supervillain.
She was defending the akumatized man who was lobbing fireballs at innocent people when suddenly the purple butterfly mask he'd seen on a dozen akumas flared over her face and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Ladybug continued to yo-yo the fireballs out of the sky, but Vixenne stopped to gape at Azura, too.
His face went pale. "Mon dieu," he uttered in a hoarse whisper.
"What's the matter? Chat got your tongue?" she teased. The mask vanished from her face.
"You're an akuma. You've been an akuma for months. God, how are you even still functioning?" he murmured.
"Not an akuma. Miraculous holder," she said slowly, pointing to herself. "We've been over this, kitten."
"That mask can't be there unless you're infected," he insisted. "Have you been Azura this whole time? Where is your family? Are they worried about you vanishing?"
She rolled her eyes. "Thanks for your concern, furball, but I can change back and forth same as you. My family's fine. I'm not 'infected.' I'm not being controlled. Honestly? Even if I didn't believe in Hawk Moth's vision, I'd still be here. I really need the internship credits."
Chat was speechless, so Vixenne took up the questioning with a gesture at Azura's face where the butterfly had been. "Explain that, then."
"Hawk Moth can sense that people are feeling bad from miles away. Empathy is a more versatile power than you would think. Telepathic communication between him and his right hand is useful. It's basically like answering a phone call," she replied with a shrug. "We gonna keep fighting or what?"
They did, and she vanished after a quick check-in on the akuma victim. Chat stared in the direction she had glided away. Worry had taken hold in his gut and wouldn't let go. No matter what Azura claimed, that mask meant only one thing, and it meant that Azura was under Hawk Moth's control.
He brought it up on their next patrol.
"Seriously, I'm worried that she's some random innocent that he's got brainwashed."
"She doesn't act like an akuma, Chat. She doesn't terrorize people unless she's with one of them, and she doesn't have an obsession," Ladybug pointed out. "Besides, Hawk Moth has never been able to make multiple akumas at once before."
"Her miraculous is the real deal. We've seen it do the countdown- same as ours. She even said she'd had months of training before she came on the scene. Nobody could survive being infused with pure evil for half a year. You may have to face facts that even though you have a crush on her-" Vixenne began.
"Hey!" he protested.
"She may actually be one of the bad guys by choice," the fox superhero concluded. "I'm sorry, but that looks like the most likely option, here."
"Whatever. You guys may not see it, but I'm going to find a way to save her," he declared, pole vaulting away.
First Marinette, now Azura. What was it about him that made people not believe him when he thought someone was in trouble?
Now that the thought had occurred to him that she might be doing this against her will, he started to notice little things about Azura that pointed to her kindness.
The way she stayed to check on akuma victims when they often couldn't.
The way she patiently guided and advised the akuma like tutoring slow students and defended them like a mother bear.
The way she kept civilians from meeting deadly danger.
He actually asked her about that once, after she sliced a bit of falling debris in half with her fan to prevent a boy from being squashed.
"Why do you save people from being crushed but not from being zombified or having their homes wrecked?" he inquired curiously.
"Your Ladybug's Miraculous can fix most things, but it can't bring people back from the dead. The kids get a little overexcited sometimes," she explained.
He was determined now that he'd seen the good in her to do something to free her from Hawk Moth's control.
He decided that the akuma must be in her miraculous, so when they fought next, he aimed all of his blows for her belt buckle.
She laughed as he tried to whack her in the stomach with his pole. "Silly kitty, this is a miraculous, not some akumatized bauble. It's going to take a bit more than a stick to break it."
"I'm sure Cataclysm could do some damage," he said flippantly.
All the blood drained from her face. "Don't! What if you miss and hit me instead? You hero types wouldn't want that," she cried nervously.
"I'll just get it off you first."
"You can't! If you destroy a miraculous with Cataclysm, Luck Charm won't fix it! There will be no going back."
"I guess you'll just have to live without your fans of death..." he scoffed.
"You'll kill my kwami!"
He stopped moving.
She took a shuddering breath.
"If you destroy a miraculous beyond repair, you destroy the kwami, too. With no enchanted object to tether them, they scatter into nothing. A thousand years of wisdom and experience and life just... gone. Duusu would be dead forever. I know you hate me. I know you think I'm the bad guy. But please, for the love of God, don't hurt him. I care about him just as much as you care about that grouchy old tomcat in your ring."
In the time it took him to glance down at his miraculous, she was gone. He ran his hands through his hair aggressively. Well, there went plan A. Now how was he supposed to help? Maybe he could track down the Grand Guardian for a long overdue chat...
He left the fight, quickly won after the departure of the more formidable opponent, and went through the front door of his house. He stopped dead at the sight that greeted him.
His father stood on the landing of the grand staircase with an arm around a trembling Marinette who clutched at his suit like a lifeline.
"Marinette?" he asked.
She stepped back from Gabriel, startled, wiping tears from her eyes.
"Adrien! It's good to see you. I was just..."
"Marinette was confiding in me an upsetting occurrence in the workplace, and I have promised to deal with the issue swiftly and harshly," his father supplied. "It will be alright," he assured her with a squeeze of her shoulder.
Marinette left, stopping briefly to hug Adrien tightly before she departed.
"What was that about?"
"Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng witnessed a confidential event at Agreste Fashions that disturbed her, and I comforted her and assured her that I would deal with the problem," Gabriel explained.
"You seem awfully close with Marinette," he commented carefully.
"She's my best pupil by a wide margin," his father dismissed. "We spend a lot of time together for work, and I have gotten to know her fairly well. I'm impressed by her skills, and she is also a very good person. I deal with a lot of snakes in the fashion industry, so her... gentle spirit is refreshing."
"I see," Adrien said flatly. "I'm going upstairs to do homework."
He swept up the stairs without waiting for dismissal. He didn't buy that excuse for a second.
Marinette, are you okay?
Marinette received a mental phone call from Hawk Moth later that evening, which she had spent pampering Duusu and keeping him curled close to her chest while she worked on designs.
My dear, I'm afraid we have a problem.
"Sir?"
My son is under the mistaken impression that we are involved in some sort of torrid affair.
"What?" she yelped, then lowered her voice again. "What on earth gave Adrien that impression?"
He seems to think I pay far too much personal attention to you to be excused by our working relationship, which would be correct if the only thing you did for me was work at the office. The problem is that we are drawing attention, and that would be detrimental to our... extracurricular activities.
"What can I do?"
The fault is mostly mine, I'm afraid, for taking such pride in you.
Marinette blushed, completely flattered. "What if we were in a torrid affair?"
What.
"I mean, the best way to deflect suspicion about something that you are doing that you don't want to get caught for is to 'admit' to something worse, right? Maybe Adrien has given us the perfect excuse if anyone asks questions."
Brilliant, my dear. However, you need to be certain. You are aware that if word got out about our fabricated affair, your career would likely be in shambles and your reputation ruined.
"I believe in the cause," she said with conviction. "I'll sacrifice whatever it takes."
That is admirable, Marinette, but we should still make an effort to be more subtle and professional and hold that excuse as a backup.
"Yes, that's probably for the best. I haven't given up on my dreams of becoming a designer, after all."
If Adrien continues to be overly inquisitive, we'll discuss this further. Until Thursday, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng.
"Until then."
The symbol disappeared and she laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. She couldn't believe that Adrien had jumped to that conclusion, of all possible explanations.
"Can you imagine it, Duusu?" she tittered. "Me and Monsieur Agreste, scandalously involved in some illicit love affair? What was Adrien thinking?"
"He was probably disappointed that you were taken," the Kwami said slyly.
"Pfft. As if. I'm a little more confident and capable now that I'm Azura, but Adrien Agreste is certainly out of my league."
"I don't think he feels that way," Duusu trilled.
"I've had a little crush on him since we met, and I've only managed to gather up the courage to form a full sentence around him without stuttering since I stayed at his house. You'd think that if he liked me, too, he would have done something once he noticed the stuttering and clumsiness in his presence," she sighed.
"Maybe he's just clueless," her Kwami suggested.
"That's not very nice," she chided. "And anyway Adrien could never be oblivious when I'm being so obvious. He's too smart."
"Being good at physics doesn't necessarily mean being good at women," Duusu pointed out.
"Maybe so, but I think I'll stick with nonsensically flirting with Chat and Vixenne," she snorted. "It's less complicated."
"Yeah, that fox girl is pretty cute," he teased. "One would think you would have a poster of her hanging up somewhere. Oh wait."
He flew up and pulled the secret rolled-up poster down from the ceiling. She squealed in indignation and pretended to furiously chase the naughty Kwami around the room as he zipped through the air cackling madly. She "caught" him and tickled him with a finger, making him giggle helplessly, begging for mercy. She relented and got them both ready for bed. Tomorrow, she had a mistaken impression to correct.
Adrien was startled from his reading by a hand on his book. His gaze darted up to meet gorgeous orbs of sky blue.
"Adrien," she began with a kind smile, and he shivered at the way she said his name, "we need to talk."
"Okay," he gulped, setting the book aside.
She sat down next to him and gave him another reassuring smile. "You can stop watching me like a hawk now."
"What?" he asked, blushing. So she had noticed him staring at her these past few months. "I mean, I'm sorry."
"It's fine," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I don't mind you looking, and your heart was in the right place, but I think you've gotten the wrong impression about your father and I."
If he thought he was blushing before, his face was completely immolated now. "Oh?" he coughed.
"Yes. You seem to believe that he and I are involved in some... sordid tryst. I would like to reassure you that this is not the case. Your father has been nothing but polite to me with no ulterior motive that I can discern. He has never once made me feel uncomfortable. And I have only flirted with some... competitive coworkers for fun. I'm fine and I know what I'm doing," she told him.
"Okay, then," he squeaked. He cleared his throat. "I'm glad you're alright. I was just... concerned."
"I promise you that nothing like that is going on between Monsieur Agreste and I."
"I believe you. But... are you sure that my father feels the same way?"
"Yes. I trust Monsieur Agreste completely. He would never do anything untoward, I'm sure," she stated with confidence.
"Good," Adrien declared. "I'm happy things are fine. Thanks for letting me know you're safe."
"You're welcome, Adrien. See you tonight for dinner, same as always?"
"Of course."
Adrien felt only slightly reassured
He had confirmed Marinette's innocence, but he still doubted his father's intentions.
Besides, things continued not to add up.
He caught her one Friday morning rummaging in his fridge wearing nothing but a sports bra and a pair of running shorts. Her sweat-slicked hair was gathered back from her face in a braid. She selected a sports drink from the shelf and plucked a glass from the right cabinet on the first try as though she knew how their kitchen was organized. She noticed him watching and dropped the glass, shattering it.
"Oh, fudge," she muttered. "Adrien, you startled me."
"What are you doing in my house at..." he checked his watch, "six-thirty in the morning?"
"Your father lets me use your gym equipment because it's cheaper than a membership to a fitness club," she explained. "I didn't mean to surprise you. I didn't know you were awake."
"Yeah, well, I came down looking for a snack."
"Let me just clean this up and I'll be out of your way in a sec," she said, stooping to carefully gather the jagged shards with her hands.
Footsteps sounded behind them and the door to the kitchen swung open to reveal a frowning Gabriel wearing athletic clothing. Adrien almost died of shock that his father could wear anything but a suit when awake.
"Marinette, what happened? I heard a crash and..." He noticed his son. "Adrien. What are you doing here?"
"I live here," he snapped. "A fact which people seem to keep forgetting."
At Marinette's hurt expression, he regretted speaking so harshly, but he wasn't about to back down.
"My dear, we have people for that," he sighed upon seeing Marinette gingerly cupping broken glass in her palms. He snapped his fingers and a maid materialized to sweep up the debris before vanishing once more.
"I apologize for breaking the glass, Monsieur."
"It's quite alright, my dear. Accidents happen. Go ahead and get cleaned up and head home. We can spar another day," he said, resting a hand on her upper back.
"Yes, Sir," she agreed, dipping her head. "See you at school, Adrien."
She ducked out of the room and Adrien turned to meet his father's eyes.
"What was that about?"
"What was what, son?"
"You and Marinette. Sparring. Since when do you know how to fight anyway? At a weirdly early hour. In secret. The casual touches. Do you think I'm blind or something?"
"Adrien, I am certain that I have no idea what you are insinuating."
"But you do. So, please, give me an excuse I can believe, Father. Or else I'm going to assume the worst," he challenged.
"Your mind goes to unseemly places," Gabriel moaned, rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He suddenly looked very tired. "Marinette reminds me of your mother."
"That doesn't make me feel any better," he pushed.
"I simply meant that I am fond of the girl. She is a truly gifted designer and a caring soul, and I see Madeleine in her. That is the only reason that you might perceive me as paying her any special attention. I miss her terribly," he confessed, "and seeing even the tiniest spark of her anywhere is enough to make me nostalgic, and perhaps overly attentive. Whatever impropriety you see, it isn't there."
Adrien swallowed a lump in his throat and looked away, tears burning in his eyes at the mention of his mother. "Yeah, well," he muttered. "Just make sure that any impropriety, imaginary or not, stays away from the press. I don't want your 'nostalgia' to hurt Marinette's career."
"I assure you that I want Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng to succeed as much as you do."
"Sure. I'm going back to bed," he huffed.
That situation had been the weirdest, especially since his father had called her Marinette instead of using her last name. But there had been others.
Marinette had come into school with a familiar set of earrings on, black pearl ovals with silver inlaid "M's," and he had asked her in a strained voice where she got them.
"Your father gave them to me for my victory in that recent design competition. Why?"
"No reason. They're pretty," he commented with a paper thin smile.
Those earrings had belonged to his mother, and if his father was giving them to Marinette, that was worrisome.
The constant reference to her as "my dear" also troubled Adrien.
An akuma had attacked Agreste Fashion for something Gabriel had done, and Adrien and Marinette had both been present for work reasons.
Chat burst into the fight after Adrien managed to slip away, and Marinette had clenched her fists and looked ready to leap into the fray, but Gabriel stopped her with a gentle tap on her arm. She froze immediately and retracted to his side, where he put a possessive hand on he shoulder and murmured into her ear, "Remember what I taught you."
He was glad that his father had kept her out of danger, but the comment made no sense to him, and neither did Marinette's immediate resistance-free obedience. She was usually about twelve times as stubborn.
Azura had not shown up to that fight.
Azura had been a source of growing concern for Chat, because he was seeing more and more that she definitely wasn't evil, despite who she worked for.
She showed an almost fanatical devotion to Hawk Moth, but it wasn't until an incident with a bit of friendly fire that the team realized how much Azura meant to him.
Shooting Star had a lot of throwing stars, and her enthusiasm for throwing them exceeded her skill, unfortunately. Azura got clipped by one shielding a group of civilians with her fan. Bright blood spurted from her upper arm and she hissed in pain, clutching at the wound. The butterfly symbol flared so bright on Shooting Star that it hurt Chat's eyes to look. Then suddenly the akuma herself was screaming.
Her eyes bulged in fear and she clutched at her head, writhing in agony as she keened to the sky, gold glitter from her outfit falling off and losing its luster like dead leaves. Black veins pressed to the surface of her skin and liquid gold tears leaked from her eyes and still she screamed.
"No!" cried Azura, limping over, clutching her arm. "Please, stop! It was an accident, Sir, just an accident. She didn't mean to. Please, you have to stop, you're killing her!"
She got right up in the akuma's anguished face and grabbed it between her hands, the left one leaving streaks of her blood on Shooting Star's cheek. Azura stared deep into her eyes, straight through to the other side of the butterfly symbol to Hawk Moth.
"Let her go," she pleaded. "She didn't mean any harm. I'll be alright with a couple of stitches. I'm fine. Please, you have to stop."
The butterfly symbol disappeared and the akuma went limp, collapsing into Azura's arms. Azura snatched her golden star circlet and snapped it in half with one hand, releasing the black butterfly. Ladybug scrambled to catch it and Azura cradled the trembling blonde girl in her lap and crooned soothingly at her.
"Hello, there," she greeted softly. "My name is Azura. I know you're scared and hurting and confused right now, but Ladybug will fix it and everything will be alright. You're going to be fine."
"I'm sorry I hurt you," she murmured.
Azura blinked in surprise. "Shh, shh. It's fine, love. Don't worry about me."
Vixenne was staring at the scene before her in shock and awe. Chat realized that this was the moment when she finally believed him about Azura's sweet spirit. She hadn't been paying as close attention as he had, so she hadn't noticed before now.
The Ladybug Swarm swept around and fixed everything: all the gold throwing stars vanished and the girl in Azura's arms stopped shaking and relaxed. Yet the swarm seemed to go around Azura herself, parting before her body and reconvening on the other side. Azura stepped back and tenderly laid the former Shooting Star down before shakily gliding off. Her arm was still dripping blood.
The Lucky Trio made plans to discuss this latest development at the Eiffel later that night.
They met precisely on time and Ladybug cleared her throat before handing the floor to Chat.
"You saw it before either of us, so I'm going to let you take point on this."
"Okay, so we know that she gets the butterfly symbol on her face, and that she works for Hawk Moth, but that the second thing doesn't really align with her personality and the kindness that she's shown, especially for akuma victims that Hawk Moth treats as expendable. My theory is that she's only partially akumatized, specifically the mind-twisting, brainwashy part that makes them listen to that crazy dude," Chat started.
"So, like, her miraculous protected her from having all of the effects?" Vixenne asked.
"Exactly like that," Chat affirmed. "I think it's her miraculous itself that's infected."
"How does that work?" Ladybug grumbled.
"I don't know, but it would explain the dark energy I felt. The peacock and the fox are usually partners. We have a connection, but it's like it's frayed? And there's a taint," Vixenne chimed in.
"I'll ask Master Fu if anything like this has happened before," Ladybug suggested. "Then we can meet back here to plan out how to free this poor girl from Hawk Moth's influence."
"Adrien already knows that something is going on. We need to give him something before he starts jumping to alternative conclusions," Monsieur Agreste told Marinette when she attended the mental summons to his office.
"What do you need me to do?"
"Adrien is going to come through that door in about fifteen minutes to 'confront' me, according to Nathalie. When he does, we need to be in a... compromising position that will 'confirm' all of his suspicions so he stops digging," he sighed. "I am truly sorry to do this to you, Marinette, but there is no other way to get my son to leave this alone. I promise you, though, that this will in no way affect your reputation with anyone else, especially important people in our line of work."
"Anything for the cause," she replied with a shrug. "I'll convince him that I'm perfectly happy in our 'relationship' after he 'catches' us red-handed. Exactly how compromising are we talking, here?"
"Only so far as you are comfortable with, my dear," he coughed, face reddening slightly.
"Well, I don't do anything halfway," Marinette announced in a determined voice, hands going to her collar to unbutton her blouse.
She ignored his throat clearing at the third button and went all the way until her top was only loosely hanging from her shoulders. "So, we time this so that we say some incriminating things or make some convincing noises just as he's coming down the hallway, and by the time he's at the door, we will be in position. I'm thinking me on the desk with one leg around your waist and my skirt hiked up a bit. I'll have my arms around your neck and you can put one hand on my cheek and one hand on my thigh. That's convincing without being too intense, I think."
She raked her eyes over him critically and mused, "We should probably also ditch the tie and undo a couple of your buttons. Untuck your shirt at the very least."
At his scandalized expression, she laughed out loud. "Well, if you want him convinced, we're both going to have to look happily disheveled. Also, no tongue with the kissing, but it doesn't have to be on the mouth. Neck would actually be a bit sexier," she said calculatingly, clearly feeling no shame and treating this like any other mission.
Gabriel Agreste, on the other hand, was red as a tomato and clearly rethinking how far he was willing to take this.
Marinette rolled her eyes. "Don't back out on me now when you've already seen my bra, Sir. I can do the kissing if you'd be more comfortable."
"No," he croaked. "You're not doing this alone. Like you said, we have to be convincing."
"Perfect," she replied with a grin.
Just then, they heard the front door opening and the urgent thwacking of sneakered footsteps.
"That's him! Quick!" she hissed, dragging him over to the desk.
She hopped up on it with ease, displacing a few papers and office supplies. She dragged him closer by the hips with her left leg and curled the other one behind his leg. She settled her hands at the nape of his neck, dragging fingers through it to muss it a bit, and he copied her by doing the same to her hair before putting his hands in the agreed-upon positions. Marinette started breathing heavily and making little gasping moans and suggested with her eyes that he follow suit.
As the footsteps drew closer down the corridor, they were getting into a convincing breathing rhythm and Marinette pressed her lips on Gabriel's just as the door opened. They pretended not to hear the sound they had been listening so hard for and didn't break apart at Adrien's startled gasp. Marinette arched her neck back to give Gabriel access to her throat, which he kissed. She sighed and opened her eyes, feigning shock when they landed on Adrien.
"A-Adrien," she stuttered breathlessly, pulling back from Gabriel and yanking the front of her blouse shut with an embarrassed half smile that was mostly panic.
Gabriel was impressed with her acting. He just schooled his features into his current emotions of annoyed and vaguely uncomfortable as he faced Adrien. "Son."
"What- what's going on here?" he croaked quietly.
"Well, um... we were just," Marinette stammered.
"I should think that would be rather obvious," Gabriel scoffed, cutting her off.
Marinette blushed deeply and he gazed at her in wonderment. She could do that on command? She was a far better liar than he would have given her credit for.
"But you told me- you both told me that nothing was going on. You lied, to my face!" Adrien cried angrily.
"It is hardly any of your business who I choose to have romantic relations with, Adrien," his father huffed.
"It is when she's my classmate, my friend, and a minor, Father," he hissed. "How... how long?" he asked brokenly.
"Since the Simon Says attack," she answered quietly. "He called me into his office and he told me how brave I was and he just had this look in his eyes... I couldn't help myself. I thought I was going to get fired."
"But instead she found that I had fallen quite hard as well," Gabriel said fondly, grasping her hand. He was again impressed by how thoroughly that his apprentice had thought this cover story through. He was almost convinced that her fable was the true version of what happened.
"Please tell me that this," Adrien growled, waving a hand between the two of them, "wasn't the real reason behind your extended stay at the mansion for the 'winter line' and why the door to the sewing room was locked."
His father remained stone-faced, but Marinette's guilty expression said it all. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Oh, my God. This isn't happening." He stayed that way for a long moment while Marinette buttoned up her blouse.
"Son, I trust that you understand that this is something you must keep to yourself," he said at last.
"Like heck."
"Now you listen here, young man," he growled.
"Gabriel," Marinette cautioned with a hand on his arm. "Adrien, we thought that we were being discreet. Nobody but you has noticed anything. You are the only person who knows for certain about us. I'm begging you to keep quiet."
"Why should I? This is illegal, and, so much offense intended, you could do way better than him," he snapped.
Gabriel Agreste's face darkened. It was clear that he was about to rise and deliver a harsh and swift punishment for back talk, but Marinette squeezed his arm again and when he looked at her, she shook her head urgently. He relaxed, face still stormy, but he remained silent.
"Please don't antagonize him," she sighed. "But Adrien, you really can't tell anyone."
"Why not?" he challenged.
"It would be the end of my career, for one," she said. "I'm sure I don't need to explain to you how one scandal can take down a model or designer for good. It would devastate my friends and family. Nobody understands that love has no age limit. Your father could lose the company, could go to jail. No matter how mad you are at him, you can't want that. His reputation and mine would be ruined. I would get called a slut and worse in the halls and on the streets. Female employees would be permanently nervous around Gabriel for reasons other than his intimidating demeanor. If people found out, it could wreck everything."
"Then why do it in the first place?"
"You don't plan who you fall in love with," she said with a sad smile. "It's not just sex. We really care about each other, too much to give it up."
"Jesus, Mari," he growled, running his hands through his hair.
"Maybe we should talk alone. You and your father can work things out later," she sighed, moving for the door to the office while sweeping her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and smoothing her skirt.
He followed, glaring daggers at his father. She led him to the guest room where she'd stayed before and sat down on the bed. He sat a few feet away.
"I'm sorry I lied," she said quietly.
"Not sorry you got involved with him in the first place?" he sneered.
"No," she answered simply. "I don't regret a moment I've spent with Gabriel Agreste. But I do regret lying to you about it when you saw right through us. We thought that the deception was necessary. We knew how people would react."
"Like I did," he realized. "Freaking out like there's no tomorrow."
"Yes."
"I'm not gonna lie. I don't approve in the slightest, but it looks like neither of you cares about that. My question is: Are you happy?" he asked.
"As happy as I've ever been in my entire life," she replied. "He makes me happy."
He heaved a sigh and put his head between his knees. "I hate this. I hate this so much, but I care about you a lot, so if it makes you happy, then I will try- try- to be more chill about it. And I promise not to tell a soul. Alya would kill all three of us, or at least me and my father, anyhow."
She laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Adrien."
"You're welcome," he groaned. "Ugh. I need to go lay down. After I wash my eyes out with soap."
"Sorry you had to find out this way," she apologized.
He waved her off. "Please, let's never speak of this again."
She chuckled at his departure and his heart gave a pang at the bell-like sound. It was so beautiful, just like her. Yet she was, for lack of a better word, dating his father.
Adrien was traumatized enough by the confirmation that Hawk Moth has his claws in Azura, but the universe wasn't done laughing at him yet, apparently.
He flopped down on his bed and stared angrily at the ceiling.
"I don't get it, Plagg. Why him? Of all people in Paris, why him?"
"Who knows, kid?" he scoffed. "LIke I'm the one to ask about human relationships. As someone who is thousands of years old, I can't really comment on the age difference thing."
"Ugh. It's not even that so much as it is that she's so amazing and he's so... well, you know how he is."
"I'm not sure I do. He's not really around enough for me to get a read on that guy," he commented.
"That's the point," Adrien grumbled. "How is this my life? One girl I sorta like is under Hawk Moth's control and may or may not be ethically classifiable as evil. The girl I've been half in love with for ages is... screwing my own father. And to top it all off, that father kinda sucks sometimes and makes me go to a thousand extra curricular activities that frequently get in the way of being a superhero."
"And here I thought people who are stupid rich were supposed to have it easy," Plagg snarked dryly.
"Shut up. I'm not asking for easy, even. Just less complicated. And for Marinette to not be in a relationship with Father."
"Jealous, much?"
"Yes, obviously!" he huffed. "What does she even see in him?"
"At least you got to see her bra," Plagg trilled suggestively. "That cute little black number with the pink lace and bows..."
"Shut up," he grumbled again. "I'm still trying to erase that image seared into my brain. The two of them... making out. It's bad enough that my brain conjured up that image of them on top of the work table in the sewing room thanks to the suspicious noises. Now I have even more nightmare fuel."
"Cheer up, kid. Maybe they'll hit a snag and break up before she becomes your stepmom."
Adrien smothered himself with a pillow and screamed into it to banish that image from his head, too.
"I think we convinced him," Marinette said after she left her chat with Adrien.
"You nearly convinced me. Well done, my dear."
"Thank you," she said, beaming at the praise. "But now that he knows our 'secret,' we'll have to keep up the act."
"I think continuing to do what we were doing and tossing out a few first name addresses and casual touches will sell it, after the show we put on. I do hope I haven't scarred my son for life," he joked.
"Well, Gabe, darling," she purred playfully. "I think he'll make a full recovery as long as we don't tie the knot once I'm of age. Besides, we can come clean once the world is yours."
"Yet more motivation to victory. Soon, my dear. Very soon," he promised, picking her up and spinning her around, surprising a laugh out of her.
"Ugh. Nevermind. Going back upstairs," Adrien grumbled from his place on the landing, and she realized that the twirl had been for show. His footsteps thudded up the staircase.
"Good cover, Sir," she whispered.
"Thank you," he accepted with a smile. "We will defeat the lucky trio and you will be free of our imaginary relationship soon enough."
"Aww. I was looking forward to designing the wedding dress," Duusu pretended to pout.
They both laughed at him, enjoying the light-hearted moment of their team and believing wholeheartedly that victory would soon be at hand.
Luckily for everyone, it was not.