WINGLESS | Ch. 1
Ladybug was flying.
As her body soared through the air, her eyes got lost in the azure of the sky surrounding her. There wasn’t a single cloud for miles. It was just Ladybug and the sun. Honestly, it wouldn’t take much for Ladybug to believe the sky was actually the ocean. As she flew, the wind whipped past her ears, mimicking the crashing of waves against sand.
The blue canvas stretched on and Ladybug was but a speck in its vastness.
As she flew, she recalled the people in her life that were important to her. For one . . . her parents, who raised her to be brave. After all, running your own business took an outrageous amount of guts, even if you’ve got talent to back it up.
For two . . . her friends, who showed her how to laugh. With them, the good times never stopped coming, even when it seemed like a certain someone -- cough, Lila, cough -- was hell-bent on destroying every friendship you had.
For three . . . Alya Césaire, who taught her she had confidence all along. Alya hadn’t even known Marinette’s name when she stood up for her against Chloé, and she was her first supporter as Ladybug. In her wildest dreams, Ladybug couldn’t have predicted finding a friendship -- no, a sisterhood in Alya.
For four . . . Adrien Agreste, who set the example of unlimited kindness for Marinette. In the beginning, he fought to be Marinette’s friend even after she accused him of putting gum on her seat. Every day since then, he had been incredibly patient with Marinette’s word fumbling and God-awful missteps that tended to end with her in his arms (not that she was complaining about the results, but her technique certainly left something to be desired). And on top of all of that, the boy was friends with Chloé, and Marinette knew that couldn’t be easy. His kindness was a choice.
And lastly . . . Chat Noir, who believed in her unconditionally. It was that unwavering faith that gave her the strength to press on as Ladybug when the police were about to attack Stoneheart against her advice. Every time she had ever started to doubt herself, he was there, wrapping her in words of encouragement like they were a heating blanket on a cold winter’s night and she was in dire need of warmth.
Courage. Laughter. Confidence. Kindness. Faith.
She wished she could have faith.
But, as it turns out, the butterflies in her stomach at that moment weren’t from Adrien’s finger brushing hers as he relinquished his umbrella.
The butterflies in her stomach weren’t from Chat Noir kissing her cheek as he gifted her a rose and whispered the importance of her friendship against her skin.
The butterflies in her stomach weren’t from impatiently awaiting the decree of Gabriel Agreste as his eyes roved over her hat design, and she so badly wanted to win that she hadn’t been able to sleep that night.
No. These butterflies weren’t from any of those situations, no matter how badly she yearned for them.
These butterflies vaguely reminded her of the time her extended family from her father’s side had visited and insisted they go to the amusement park. Despite her protests, they begged her to ride a rollercoaster and she crumbled beneath the pressure. She knew she would cry, but she went on anyway to appease them. One might think they’d get the message and never ask again . . . but they did ask the next time. And the time after that. They seemed to suffer from some sort of selective memory when it came to Marinette’s fear of rollercoasters. She just deeply loathed the feeling of falling.
And, in that moment, she was falling. She had confused it for flying at first, but she was falling, no doubt about it.
Ladybug had been disarmed during the altercation with the akuma. Her yo-yo had rolled away from her as she clambered for power from beneath her attacker. So her yo-yo was gone. She didn’t have it.
Ladybug didn’t have her yo-yo and she was falling.
Ladybug had no idea if anyone had seen her get yeeted off the side of the skyscraper. The last time she looked, Rena Rouge and Carapace were busy with the akuma’s sentimonster, and Chat Noir, well . . . She had left him on the ground when she tackled the akuma in the first place.
How did everything go so wrong?
This wasn’t the day for an akuma. This wasn’t the day for a battle or near-death experiences. She and Chat had planned this day for weeks. This was the day she was supposed to say, “Tikki, spots off” in front of him. She was supposed to say, “Tada! I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng! Remember that time you showed me your balcony surprise for Ladybug? And you had told me how much you loved me without knowing it was me you were telling? Great times!”
This wasn’t the day for an akuma.
Marinette was a natural-born catastrophizer. That’s what made it so incredibly impossible for her to tell Adrien she liked him as more than a friend. And it’s what often led to her doubting herself when the akuma battles weren’t going her way.
She should have known something would go wrong the one day she wanted things to go right really, really, really badly.
She should have known that her being Lady Luck was nowhere near enough to reverse the bad luck that seemed to follow her.
In fact, it surprised her that she hadn’t catastrophized the reveal with her long-time teammate, Chat Noir. That would certainly seem the most on-brand for Marinette. But she hadn’t. All of her focus was on something else entirely.
She had made him a gift.
It took her weeks to imagine something fitting for her feline, leather-sporting, pun-loving best friend. Every time she had an idea, she was swift to shoot herself down. Nothing was good enough for him, the person who believed in her the most. The person who showed up every time. The person who prioritized her friendship above his own feelings. The person who . . . the person who loved her.
He loved her.
The butterflies were back.
But they weren’t because she was falling.
Well, perhaps it was because she was falling.
Just a different kind.
Nothing like your life flashing before your eyes to dig up buried feelings.
The wind no longer sounded like the ocean to Marinette. Now, it just sounded like all the opportunities life had to offer passing her by. The hundreds of times she could have been honest with Adrien. The thousands of times she could have given Chat Noir a chance. The many outfits she had yet to design. The lives she had yet to touch.
The love she had yet to have.
No, it would seem that Ladybug would get none of that.
What she did have was courage when she tackled the akuma to save her partner. She had laughter when Chat Noir cracked one of his numerous ill-timed jokes in the beginning of the battle. She had confidence when she created a plan with her unconventional Lucky Charm and had to explain it to her less-creative comrades. She even had kindness when she rescued Chloé Bourgeois from the akuma’s minions despite the girl’s stifling hatred for not one but both of her identities.
But, although she wanted nothing more than to believe in a happy ending, she couldn’t have faith. She couldn’t have faith because she wasn’t flying.
Ladybug was falling.
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