Miraculous Ladybug Oneshots!

[Mark X Blind! Reader] The Color in My Life

Requested by ijustwantapurpose on Quotev.

"Ladybug and Chat Noir danced proudly towards Frightingale." You listened in happy silence as the boy next to you recounted the story of Ladybug and Chat Noir's last fight. You loved listening to his voice and just basking in his wonderful presence. "Their steps were in perfect harmony as they drove her back. Panicked, she flailed her way backwards, whipping her fluorescent pink whip back and forth in an attempt to stop them, but that didn't stop Paris' superheroes. Without missing a beat, they knocked her off her feet. In a last attempt to get away, Frightingale ran into the building where Clara Nightingale had hosted auditions earlier that day. Littering the wide room were pink statues of frozen people, stuck in positions of fear. Frightingale angrily shouted at them, calling them cheaters, but when did that ever stop Ladybug and Chat Noir? Seamlessly, they ran at her and got her wand, Chat Noir's cataclysm disintegrating it into black dust. A small white butterfly emerged from it, and it was over. In sync, the two superheros shouted "Miraculous Ladybug!" and all of Paris was saved."

"You're such a good story teller Marc." You gushed in the direction where you heard his voice.

Marc laughed nervously, "no I'm not. I was just telling you what happened."

"But you recounted it wonderfully!" you argued, "it was almost like I was there. Your words are magical. You should totally share it! I've heard that there are websites where you could post your writing!"

"Oh no no, I couldn't do that." He immediately disregarded your idea.

You frowned, "why not?"

"My stories aren't that good." He answered without missing a beat, but his voice seemed to ooze self-doubt.

"Nonsense! Your writing is amazing!" you couldn't understand why he didn't believe you, "why do you doubt yourself?"

Marc sounded rather dejected as he told you, "you're only telling me they're good because you're my friend."

You gasped and felt a little hurt, "I would never! You're the best writer in the entire school!"

"Hey guys!" you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and Marinette's voice.

"Marinette! Tell me, are Marc's stories awesome?" you were happy that the kind girl was there. She'd help your case.

"To be honest, I'm not sure" she replied hesitantly, "Marc's never let me read his writing."

"Wait really?" you swiveled your head around since Marinette was on one side of you and Marc was on the other, "how many people have read your writing?"

"Just you" He mumbled, "and technically you never read my writing."

You gasped good naturedly, "rude!" Marc quietly laughed. "But I'm flattered," you told him seriously.

"I have an idea!" Marinette declared excitedly, "you guys should come over to the art room!"

You weren't too fond of that idea, and you made it heard, "I don't know Marinette. Art and me? I wouldn't be able to appreciate it."

"Not all of it is visual!" Marinette told you, "there are students in there who are writing music!"

You thought it over, "maybe. What do you think Marc?"

"Sure, why not?" he answered unenthusiastically.

"Maybe you'll let me finally read your writing, and then I can answer your question (y/n)!" Marinette suggested.

"Yeah, I don't know." He sighed, sounding unconvinced, "maybe."

"Awesome" Marinette cheered, "see you guys later then!" You heard her footsteps fading away and knew she had left.

"Hey Marc, you don't have to if you don't want to." You told him kindly. You heard his lack of enthusiasm, and didn't want to force him to doing anything. Especially since he seemed uncertain about his work, "but I do think it'd be a good experience. You can be with other artists!"

"You think so?" he asked, still sounding unsure.

"I'll be right next to you," you told him gently, "if that helps." You added hastily.

"Oh no no," you heard his voice raise in alarm, "you don't have to come. Like you said, you wouldn't really be able to appreciate the art."

"It's no problem!" you grinned, "I can listen to the music!" There was a pause and Marc still seemed unconvinced, "don't worry about me. You're always narrating to me what happens in the world, at least let me try and pay you back by supporting you all the way!"

"Okay." Marc agreed.

"Shall we go then?" you asked, "or do you want to wait?"

"Let's go." There was the sound of rustling, and you guessed that Marc stood up, "Marinette invited us, so we should go sooner than later."

"Sounds good!" you smiled. You grabbed the white cane that was laying on the seat next to you, and stood up. "Lead the way!"

Your cane swept back in forth in front of you to make sure you didn't run into anything, while Marc walked next to you letting you know when to turn left or right and when you approached the stairs.

"Am I really the only person who's read your writing?" you asked in awe as the two of you walked through the school.

"Yeah." He answered quietly.

"Wow," it took you a moment to take in the new information, "I feel special." You felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn't know why.

"That's because you are." Marc's voice had a smile in it.

"I just, wow." You had no words to describe the fluffy feeling inside of you. If only you had Marc's prowess over the english language, maybe you would have been able to say something more riveting than 'wow'.

It was silent between the two of you, except for the light taps your cane made on the ground, "it's because I trust you."

"Thank you Marc." You smiled, "I trust you too."

Marc didn't seem done with his small monologue and continued, "and it started with just telling you about the news of the day, and I guess, I just started telling you my original stories." He trailed off into silence, sounding like he started berating himself in his head at the end of his sentence.

"Y'know," Marc's silence made it seem like he was lost in his head again, "if you didn't tell me before, I would've thought that your original stories were just news. They sound so realistic and like I'm in the moment." You paused, then continued, "I'm really happy you're in my life Marc. If I could see, I'd say that you made my life more colorful and brighter." You smiled.

Marc faltered, "I, do you mean it?" he sounded breathless.

"Of course! Why would I lie to you?" you were confused, why was he breathless? It wasn't like the two of you were doing anything physically exerting.

"Because," there was a pause and a shaky breath, "you've made my life colorful as well. You are the highlighter that colored my world." You didn't realize that the two of you had stopped walking and couldn't help but gape at him. "Oh no, I said something weird didn't I?" Marc's voice started to sound anxious, "I'm sorry (y/n), that was weird."

"No, Marc!" you were worried that he was going to leave so you reached forward in an attempt to grab something. Lucky for you, you were able to grab a part of his hoodie. "That was just, beautiful. I, don't know what to say." You took a deep breath and refocused yourself, "are you getting a warm, fuzzy feeling inside your stomach? Or is that just something bad I ate earlier?"

"Yeah, I'm getting the fuzzy feeling too." He murmured.

"Do you, know what it means?" you questioned in shock. What was this new feeling?

Marc hesitated, "I think, that's how people describe love."

"Love?" the word seemed so foreign to you. You never thought that you loved Marc, but as you thought about it, you could understand. You were always happy when you were near him, he was the highlight of your day, and, if he were to suddenly leave, you would probably be devastated. "Marc, I think I love you."

He took your hand off of his sweater and held it within his hands, "I think I love you too."