| ᴅᴇᴅɪᴄᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ɢʀᴀɴᴅᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ |

Welcome to 𝑨 𝑷𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒆 !

If you're looking for an angsty, sad, eye-opening adrienette au, then you've definitely come to the right place. Tears shall be shed here, and if you didn't shed any by the end of the book... well... I'll be concerned.

Suicide is never the answer. Your life is something way too precious to simply just give up on, or end. You have a purpose, a destiny, and each and every one of you is just as important as everyone else. No one is better, prettier, higher, or more important than you. We're all people, and we're all worth more than gold. Never forget that you are loved and special in so many ways. If anyone is even having thoughts about suicide, I am here to always talk. Write on my message board, PM me, DM me on Instagram, or Snapchat me. I am always available to talk to anyone who needs someone to talk to.

To all my lovely readers out there, just remember, you are never alone ❤️

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜

Explicit language, sexual implications, young & unplanned pregnancies, vague implications regarding abortion, suicide, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, drinking & smoking implications, harassment & bullying, murder, & character deaths.

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
If you are uncomfortable with any of the themes listed above, I would heavily advise not reading this book. If you are suffering from depression, I would not advise reading this book. All events that take place in this story are extremely intense. This book will not be for everyone.

Please read at your own risk.

Adrien — 18
Nino — 18
Chloé — 18
Luka — 18
Marinette — 18
Alya — 17
Lila — 17

All proper credits, characters, and content related to the original storyline of Miraculous Ladybug in this story belongs to Thomas Astruc, the creator of the show, its producer, Jeremy Zag and his production company, Zagtoon, as well as Method Animation, SAMG Animation, and Toei Animation.

The cover is made by me. The art piece used is from the Miraculous Ladybug manga.

The fan-made storyline of this book belongs to me. None of these characters are mine.

The plot, however, is partly inspired by the first season of the television series "13 Reasons Why", and partly written in remembrance of my grandmother.

This is a multimedia book,
which means a lot of the images used are super important for the story (and its aesthetic ofc), so I advise all readers to read the chapters online.

If you can't view an AMV in a specific chapter for some reason, it was either deleted on YouTube, or the YouTube account itself was deleted. If I happen to notice, or someone else tells me, I'll be replacing them with other AMVS. Please let me know if you happen to notice an AMV that is either missing or not working in a certain chapter.

This story is cross-posted on AO3. It is only available to read on wattpad and AO3. If you see it on any other platform besides wattpad or AO3, it has been stolen and posted by someone else without my permission. Please let me know immediately if you happen to stumble upon stolen content!

Also, NO self-promotion of any kind is allowed in the comment section. I find promoting your book in someone else's to be extremely rude. If you would like me to promote your book, you're more than welcome to ask me through a PM, but comments promoting books in this story will be ignored and deleted.

His elbows dug sharply into his knees and his face was buried in his sweaty palms. His knees ached from the painful, poking sensation of his elbows digging into his skin, and his entire body cried out with the desire to lie down and rest... but he couldn't find it in himself to move. It was like he was stuck; frozen in time and unable to move forward. He couldn't remember the last time he'd ever felt this much pain. Perhaps it was when his mother disappeared or when his father started to become cold-hearted. Either way, he knew he hadn't cried this much since the loss of his mother all those years ago.

On the staircase that led up to Marinette's room, Adrien sat and listened intensively as the low chatter continued down below in the Dupain-Cheng's apartment. His initial idea had been to escape the crowd, yet he couldn't even muster enough courage to lift open the trap door that led into her bedroom. The familiar scent and memories of the place haunted his mind, and he feared that if he ever saw it again, he'd never be able to forget it.

A soft knock on the staircase railing caught his attention. Adrien lifted his head from his hands, only to find Marinette's best friend standing at the very bottom of the stairs.

"Hey." Alya was smiling at him, but he could tell it was forced. Her voice contradicted that smile, almost sounding weak and longing for things they each could no longer have. She was staring up at him with hesitance swirling in those opal irises of hers, and he knew it was because she was only hoping to receive some sort of response from him.

He hadn't uttered a single word since the funeral, after all.

"I know this is hard..." Alya began softly, and he noticed as her hand gripped onto the railing (the contemplation to join him on the steps probably heavy on her mind), but she hesitated, instead eyeing him wearily from a distance, and he was somewhat glad that she did. "...but you should come down. Maybe talk to someone? You could talk to me too... if you want."

Adrien averted his eyes and decided to keep his gaze fixed on his black-clad shoes rather than her sympathized expression. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to anyone, and even if he were to speak with someone, what would he say? His words wouldn't do anything to soothe the pain her family and friends felt in her absence.

Down below, he continued to listen idly to the murmurs of her many family members and friends who comforted Marinette's parents: Tom and Sabine. They continued to express their condolences like a broken record. They showed their own grief and sympathy by providing flowers and gifts for their home as if it would somehow replace Marinette's once warm and happy presence.

It was somewhat pathetic if you asked him.

Adrien didn't know how her parents could simply smile and show gratitude towards people who had absolutely no idea what that kind of pain felt like. The last thing Adrien wanted was to be surrounded by multiple people who wouldn't understand—people who truly couldn't grasp what it felt like to lose someone you didn't take seriously. Someone you didn't get the chance to say goodbye to. Someone you took for granted.

"Please Adrien," Alya pleaded, her voice sounding desperate and completely genuine as she pulled him away from his thoughts. "I'm worried about you."

Still, he ignored her, because Adrien Agreste had learned to grieve all on his own. He'd had plenty of practice, after all. After his mother's disappearance, he didn't have a loving father to embrace him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Even to this day, his father was emotionless. Adrien had learned to adapt to the unfortunate habit of solitude, which he learned all too well from his father. He contained his sadness in silence and blocked everyone and anything out.

Anyone who tried to reach in, that is.

He knew Alya was worried—hell, even he was a bit worried for himself, but Adrien couldn't pretend in front of a bunch of people. He was a model, but he wasn't an actor. He couldn't act as if any of this was normal. He couldn't smile and shake hands with people as if he were at another one of his father's dinner events. This was so much different. A friend was gone. No amount of flowers, gifts, or small stuffed animals holding chocolates could bring her back to him.

Maybe Alya could waltz around with a fake smile on her lips and pretend as if everything was fine, but Adrien couldn't.

He wasn't strong enough for that.

The defeated sigh Alya let out broke him from his thoughts again, and he found himself slumping in relief as she finally understood the hint that he didn't want to talk to her. He peered under his lashes just in time to catch her shift her body weight and step back. She was looking at him with concern when their eyes met, and she offered him one last sad smile before she headed back down towards the people who were gathered in the living area.

Adrien exhaled loudly the moment he was left alone again, releasing a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding in. Maybe it was his new way of crying since he had lost all his tears due to not only his mother's absence many years ago but the loss of one of the best people he'd ever known.

Eventually, the event slowly began to come to a close. He watched from where he was seated on the staircase as people he didn't quite recognize bid their farewells. He could get a clear view of the front door from where he was, and he watched silently as Marinette's parents stood by the door and sent everyone on their way. By the time everyone was gone, only he and Alya remained.

Alya awkwardly made her way towards the front door in an attempt to leave. There was no denying that she was unsure of what else she could say to make the situation better. She fiddled with the hem of her black dress as she turned to Marinette's parents. "Let me know if there is anything my family or I can do for you, Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng."

Sabine smiled sadly, "Thank you, Alya."

Then, she was gone, leaving him alone as their last guest. Adrien sighed and slowly rose to his feet, descending down the staircase with absolutely no rush... as if to extend his stay. In a way, he wasn't ready to never come back here again.

But in a second sense, he couldn't stand to be inside of a home that reminded him so much of her.

Adrien placed his hand on the doorknob and twisted it open. He'd already overstayed his welcome, and his father had always taught him that being the last guest to leave an event was considered impolite. However, just as Adrien was about to step out into the hallway, he felt a tender hand grasp his shoulder.

He turned sharply and found that Marinette's mother, Sabine, had been the one to stop him.

She offered him a gentle, sad smile, and softly said, "Marinette left something for you, Adrien."

He watched with a somewhat curious expression as she lifted a small, pink journal into his view. At first, he wasn't sure what he was meant to do with it, but Adrien took it gently from her hands nonetheless. His lifeless, emerald eyes scanned the small book. Immediately, he recognized Marinette's signature engraved into the cover of the journal in black lettering. Suddenly, an important memory resurfaced in his mind as he remembered all the countless times he'd seen her with this very same book at school.

But Marinette never allowed anyone to read it.

Not even Alya... who was her sworn best friend.

And he'd only gotten a glimpse at it once because she didn't want him seeing anything else in it.

So why would she want him to have it?

_______________________________

I decided to write this story because one, it saddens me so much that so many people resort to suicide... mostly because they don't have anyone to talk to about how they feel. And two, because I know what it feels like, because I've been in a place like this before... and I lost someone who didn't have anyone to help them out of a place like this on time. We have to be the ones to look out for those who silently request our help. Suicide is never the answer, and it will never be the right way to leave this earth.

Please share this book with your friends
And always remember
sᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ ɪs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ