You guys, ALL I've been thinking about recently is Marichat after watching that dang trailer. Like I don't stan it, but DAMN they cute as hell. PLASTER THIS PHOTO ON MY FUCKING GRAVE. IM DEADASS SERIOUS. I WANT NOTHING ELSE WHEN I DIE EXCEPT FOR THESE TWO LOSERS TO BE CANON😫

In less than 6 hours glaciator is going to be released. In less than 6 hours, my death approaches. I'm not ready to die. I need to finish the rest of season 2 before I die.

(ps: yes. I live a sad life.)

Ok so seriously though.. this is an actual update, I promise. I suppose after today, I'll see you guys on the other side- and I'll be staying up to watch a stream of it, if you'd like to message me about it. I may update again tomorrow if I survive, so you'll possibly hear from me then.

Carry on.

~✯~

/Vision through the blade\

"You know, Chat? I'm kind of glad I don't have to do the execution.. just this once." Saud said, glancing at Chat gloomily while they approached the hall of Trebora, where the execution was to take place. Instead of answering, Chat simply raised and eyebrow curiously. Saud shook his head.

"I've never killed a girl before," he said, sheathing a long metallic blade off of the wall. "Not sure why the thought bothers me so much. Maybe because my mother.." he trailed off, a sudden coldness overtaking the both of them.

The word he spoke triggered something inside Chat- an unfamiliar emotion. He ignored it while goosebumps prickled at his skin mercilessly. Here, you could not allow emotions to overthrow your state of mind.

Chat shook a pair of tight leather boots onto his feet. For the first time, something close to a smile grew on Saud's face. "She was.. really something." He frowned, the coldness in his eyes returning, probably realizing this false reality was much too far out of his reach. "Anyways, we'd best get going. I think that, for whatever reason, the grandmaster wants to supervise you." He slung a backpack over his shoulder, ready to transport the other blades to the training barrack.

Chat frowned. Hopefully that reason wasn't because he was suspicious of him.

They trudged into a cellar, where the final aspect of the few steps of Chat's training would come to a close. Here he would learn to most efficiently, well.. kill the prisoner, most notably without any problems arising.

Expectantly, the grandmaster was there, just as Saud had warned him.

==============================

"Wake up." A voice cut through Marinette's dream-like state annoyingly, forcing her to open her eyes and face the horrible reality in which she would never escape. A sudden solemness caught in her throat at the sudden reminder and expectancy of her death. She sat up very reluctantly, rubbing her temple tiredly.

Still barely awake, her hands were then immediately bound behind her back. Though she was rather startled by the sudden urgency, Marinette was then then faced with the difficult task of standing up. Wasn't she supposed to die in less than 24 hours? (Literally all of the Marichat stans fr, this reference even kills me) If so, what was the rush?

"What's going on?" She braved, while the guard with clearly selective hearing continued to shove her down the maze-like corridors. When he didn't answer, she continuously asked again and again until she was met with a fierce eye roll. "Nothing too exciting, little brat. Not for me, anyways. You have a phone call." he said, and she silently processed what he said deep within her mind. A phone call? Who could have possibly allowed of this, seeing as literally everyone within the base had a burning, seething hatred for her?

The guard seemed to read her mind based on her confused expression, and bared his teeth grimly. "Look kid, I don't quite understand it either, but the commander threatened to fire me from my position on guard if I did not comply. So trust me, I am not at all happy about this." he spat, hatred lacing his lips and the tip of the grey revolver now pressed even further into the small of her back. Bastard, she thought.

Sure, this information was.. somewhat helpful. But who exactly in their right mind would possibly-

Her aching question was yet again left unanswered when she was suddenly shoved inside of what looked to be an office, the door slamming behind her. She stood with her back against the door, unsure of whether or not it was a trap.

She scanned over the room with her bright blue orbs. It was fairly dark, but with what shapes her eyes were able to adjust and detect, she spotted what appeared to be a bed. And upon it was without a doubt a disposable phone.

Frantically, she ran to the edge of the bed, shifting the ties on her arms far enough down her forearms to where she could barely move her hands enough to hold it. She then attempted to dial a number. Nothing happened.

Though her eyes had now finally adjusted to the darkness of the room, she looked around the room searching for something.. anything. But it was completely empty aside from the bed in which she sat.

Frustration began to overtake her. Was this some kind of.. test to get inside of her head? An alternative form of torture led by false, unfulfilled promises? A sudden deep, dry-throated voice cut through the air. "There's a button on the back of the phone. Hold it down while you dial, and release it when you're finished." When the man ceased speaking, the darkness around her seemed to suddenly clog her throat to a point where she could not move nor speak. Her breath hitched.

Heavy footsteps echoed throughout the room and came nearer. Once again startled, she almost made the clumsy mistake of dropping the phone. When the footsteps stopped, she finally regained her posture, then turning around the face the man. She wasn't at all surprised at who stood before her.

"You just find a large amount of pleasure in torturing me, don't you?" She crossed her arms, a scowl forming across her face. So it was Chat Noir who set up this little phone call, huh? The bitterness seemed to flow through the air around them like a sour aura.

He spoke calmly in response. "Of course, that's exactly why I set up is phone call to your parents." His voice was not at all cold, but instead trying to convey a sort of compassion that Marinette could not seem to detect.

At the sudden mention of her parents, Marinette's heart sunk. The sadness growing in her eyes was easily noticed by the cat bandit, but Mari ultimately refused to let this vulnerability fester. She did not let the tears form at the corner of her eyes and instead wiped the condensation away form her eyelashes.

She met his gaze again. Chat Noir stood about five inches taller than her,almost as if he had grown even more since the last time she had seen him. He had bruises and scabbed cuts littering every exposed part of his body, his blonde locks a messy and tangled mess, his suit gleaming brightly in what was now faint light surrounding the two. She was still mad at him.. not so much about the kidnapping, or leading her on.. but more about how he broke his promise.

Her mind was spinning. Why would he be doing this? As pity for all he'd done, and how she was going to die.. to somehow redeem him from insurmountable guilt that was to come? She decided on not trying to get him to elaborate.

Noticing she was silent, he cut through her thoughts saying, "Two calls."

"And.. if they don't pick up?" She questioned softly.

He took a moment to decide, checking his watch as if in a hurry." Call someone else until they do."

She clutched the phone between her fingertips tightly as if it was the only thing her life was clinging onto. Using her index finger which was bent awkwardly due to the restraints on her hands, she dialed the one number in her mind. Her parents did not answer, but she cherished the sound of their sweet voices on their voicemail. Though it would cost her a call, she left them a message.

She stared blankly at the phone after failing to call Alya, who had changed her number. She couldn't remember anyone else's off the top of her head. But suddenly.. she remembered something.

Still tucked away in her dirtied jean pocket, was a small bright yellow sticky note. The pen used to write on it was a thin blue ink that had been smudged since it had been lodged in there for so long, but she could still barely make out the writing.

The day before she has been kidnapped, she had received Adrien Agreste's number. He was staying in the dorm next to Alya's. Maybe she could contact her after all, and of course say her goodbyes to her sweet Adrien. She dialed the number on the note, a sudden hope taking her captive.

A few moments later, Chat's phone began to ring. He grabbed it, mumbling an attempted insincere apology to Marinette and stepping outside to take it. He checked his watch. He hoped it wasn't a commander searching for him since he'd been out so long.

"Hello?" he answered, slumping his back against the wall, a hoarse tone catching his voice.

A frail voice travelled through the end of the line, one that sent spies traveling straight through his heart. "..A-Adrien?"