After school, one day, you were subject to Marinette dragging you aside, before class, in order to talk to you about “something”. To say you were nervous was an understatement, but you still obliged, since she looked practically infuriated, and you had a strong suspicion it was due to the very civil conversation you’d shared with Adrien this morning.
Well, it had been civil until he’d put his arm around your shoulders, and given you sort of a half hug. It was clear the blond was very attached to you.
“All right, (Y/n),” she huffed, folding her arms, once you were out of earshot from everyone else. “I want an honest answer from you, to this question!”
Ah shit, here we go again.
“Bien sur…” you responded, sweating slightly.
Marinette took a deep breath, composing herself, before finally asking aggressively, “Is my love for Adrien obsessive?!”
You blinked, that hadn’t been the query you were expecting. Was she finally becoming self aware? That would be quite the development.
What bothered you more was how to answer; so, you mulled over your response, before answering in the typical British fashion of dancing around the point, “Well, I don’t want to sound rude, but I think that sometimes, your love for Adrien is obsessive — but, I mean, I am sure you love him a lot, but maybe you should take a step back and give him some space—”
“Oh, oh, I knew it!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “I-I’ve gone too far, haven’t I?”
“I didn’t—I do not think that—” you attempted to convey your thoughts, scratching the back of your neck.
“I knew it, I knew it! I’m so… I’m so dumb,” she whispered, as if she’d suddenly had a huge revelation. “Obsessiveness isn’t love, is it?”
“Uh? Yes?” you replied blankly, trying to get your message across. “Yes, but… maybe you’re being a little harsh on yourself here.”
“I get it now,” she laughed with faint hysteria, “ I was being so damn stupid! Stalking him, stealing his phone, getting into fencing just because I wanted to see him, and then I caused Kagami to get akumatized because of that! I don’t even know what this feeling is now! I was trying to convince myself I’m in love with Adrien, when I don't know anything about him!” Marinette burst into tears, hiding her face.
You flinched in surprise, before awkwardly placing your hands on her shoulders, “Marinette, take it easy, ok?” you advised nervously, subconsciously switching to English in your slight panic, wracking your brain on how to comfort her.
“You’re smart, right, (Y/n)? Can’t you explain why I’m like this? Can't you explain why I’m a terrible person?!” she cried out, her fists suddenly flying out, and weakly hitting your chest.”Adrien likes you! How did you get him to like you?! Why… why do you have everything I want?!”
A sigh escaped you, and you hugged her properly, allowing her to slump against you. “Marinette, I don’t have everything you want, you probably have what I want,” you assured her. “Are you sure you want my honest thoughts on everything though?”
“S'il te plaît,” Marinette mumbled, shaking intensely, visibly struggling to come to grips with the fact that her crush on Adrien wasn’t as wholesome as she originally thought.
You winced, and then began awkwardly, “I think that you like the idea of Adrien. You like his image, rather than his actual self, and that’s not just hurting you, but Adrien as well. You think he is good looking, right? What else do you like about him? The fact that he’s nice? What even caused you to like him?
“I think that you just need to reevaluate how you feel about Adrien. I don’t think you love him, I think you idolise him, and that’s a bit unhealthy. Especially since you try so hard to be with him all the time, even if that means getting rid of other people to do that. Maybe… take a step back and think it over, ok?” you finished, smiling anxiously.
Marinette sniffed, and rubbed her eyes, pulling away from you, and tried to smile back; “Yes, yes, I-I’ll do that. Thank you, (Y/n)... I can see why Adrien likes you so much.”
“Don’t be silly! He doesn’t like me that way,” you laughed, flapping your hand, although you couldn’t help the little spark of joy that invaded you when she said that. “No, not at all! Afterall, he’s rich, and I’m nothing but a working class, passive-aggressive bitch, whose parents need extra pay…”
You trailed off, and frowned, as the image of Lucinda entered your mind. She’d been completely demoralised yesterday, and you couldn’t help but worry about her, since she’d seemed utterly distraught by her situation.
To make matters worse, her electricity didn’t seem to be working, back at her house, and it turned out that since her mum couldn’t afford the power bills, she and her mother were left to rot in the nail-grating cold of a February night. Luckily your parents had let them stay over for the night, but it was clear that Lucinda and her mum had seen better days.
“(Y/n)? Are you all right?” Marinette’s concerned voice snapped you out of your daze, and you turned to her with a forced grin.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m… I’m alright,” you lied through your teeth, before repeating what you’d said in French to her.
You then escorted her back to the classroom, and back to Alya, who’d probably know what to do better than you did, although you sincerely hoped she wouldn’t encourage Marinette to keep pursuing Adrien; it wasn’t great for her mental health, and even if Adrien wasn’t aware of it, he was still basically in danger of this girl if she went too far.
Once you arrived back, Alya didn’t waste any time in shoving her phone into your face, exclaiming something about another akumatized person, to which Marinette perked up slightly, and said she needed the bathroom.
Exhausted by all these freak villains, at this point, you nodded dully, and went to go back to your table, with Juleka, but then your teacher Miss Bustier grabbed your attention. “Everyone, it’s advised that you stay behind after school,” she announced, visibly worried, “there is a villain running around, preying on children from private schools.”
“Yeah, she turns kids into statues!” Alya chimed in, whilst showing her screen to everyone, “Look!”
So, you looked.
And there was Lucinda, in a strangely fairy like outfit, terrorising a bunch of kids, with a wand in her left hand that reassembled a knife, with its sharp edge, and wooden handle. There were tiny specks of blood littered across her face, and there was a dazed, happy smile on her face, as she slashed the face of a businessman, turning him into stone.
Fuck.
You backed away slowly, before making a dash for the exit, immense anxiety wracking your body; but you were stopped when someone caught your wrist, causing you to jolt, and look backwards. “Where are you going? It’s dangerous out there!” Adrien exclaimed, his green eyes shining with worry.
“I know her!” you spluttered, trying to pull away. “I know her, so I need to help her!”
“(Y/n), please! Just stay here!” he pleaded, keeping a firm grip on you, not letting you break away. “You need to be somewhere safe!”
“I don’t care if I’m fucking safe, now let me go!” you snapped, desperately hauling yourself away. “I need to help her! I can’t let her just suffer like that, it’s not fair on her! She’s in pain, and she needs help!”
“Why is she in pain?!” Adrien asked desperately, still attempting to hold you back. “Surely it can’t be as bad as you think it is!—”
A furious rage overcame you; “You really think you would understand?! You don’t understand anything!” you barked, slapping his hand away with your free one. “You’ll never understand because you’ve got no problems, do you?! No, everything is handed to you on a silver platter, and you will never understand how it feels to live your life with no meaning or control, and with nowhere left to go—!”
“(Y/n)! That’s enough!” the teacher broke up the argument, and stood in between you and Adrien. “Go to the principal’s office,” she instructed angrily, “and explain to him why you had this outburst in class.”
You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream at her too, but everyone’s eyes were on you, and Adrien was holding his wrist, where there was now a red mark where you’d hit him, with a betrayed, hurt expression. Shame instantly filled you up, and you shrank in on yourself with guilt, before seeing yourself out, swiftly exiting the class; once out of sight from everyone else, an embarrassed sob escaped you, as you walked down the stairs.
God, what the fuck was that?
Oh, you dumbass, you fucking idiot. This was awful, that was the worst thing you’d done so far in this school. Even worse than the time you’d punched that boy at lunch in London after he’d said something you couldn’t remember.
Things were different in private schools. You should’ve known there would be consequences for your actions, but not in a physical way, like back in England, but actual repercussions.
All of a sudden, a rope wrapped around your wrists, and tugged you forwards, into the ground; you let out a shriek of surprise, then a yelp of pain, as a crack came from your jaw when you landed on it.
The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, and you looked up pathetically, with a grimace, only to find your friend, Lucinda, in her manic pixie outfit, and a very sadistic look on her face. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she mocked, “if it isn’t my lovely friend (Y/n).”
A/n: BEFORE PEOPLE COME AT ME FOR MAKING Y/N ACT LIKE A BITCH ‼️
they're a flawed individual - they can't be nice all the time and they are going to lash out and say some hurtful shit sometimes. this is all part of plot development, so please don't take it like a sign that they're a bad person.