Summary: Chat Noir and Ladybug versus an automatic revolving door. Ready? Fight!
Read it on AO3: Lady Noir: Revolver
“So, funny story,” Chat Noir chuckled nervously as he and his partner stared down the automatic revolving door. “Automatic doors hate me.”
“What a coincidence,” Ladybug replied in a strained laugh. “They hate me too.”
“No. Like…you don’t understand,” he tried to clarify.
“I once walked into an automatic door several times in a row because it kept opening only to close in my face when I tried to go through,” Ladybug explained dryly.
Chat blinked, conceding, “Okay. Maybe you do understand.”
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Great. So, since we’re both cursed, shall we get this over with already?”
“Might as well,” he chuckled. “You and me against the world, My Lady?”
“You got it,” she snickered, striding forward with more confidence than she actually felt.
They made it into the glass partition, and Chat Noir scooped up his tail to prevent it from getting run over by the door behind them.
All seemed to be going smoothly…until suddenly it wasn’t.
The door in front of them abruptly stopped revolving, causing Ladybug to walk right into it.
Chat, who had been eyeing the door behind them warily, didn’t see that his partner had stopped in time to put on the brakes, so he crashed into her, conking both of their heads.
“Owww,” Ladybug groaned, doing her best to hold in some choice curses.
“I’m so sorry! Are you all right, My Lady?!” Chat yelped.
Rubbing her forehead, Ladybug attempted a smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. “Don’t worry about it, Chaton. No permanent damage done…unless you count the hit I just took to my pride and sense of dignity.”
She looked around for witnesses and found none. “Well, at least no one saw that besides you, and I’m going to assume you don’t think less of me for looking like an idiot.”
“I could only ever hold you in the highest esteem, Buguinette,” he assured jovially.
His good humor started to fade as their situation began to dawn upon him. “…Wait. The door stopped moving. Are we…stuck?”
Ladybug blinked and turned back to the door in front of them, giving it an experimental push.
Nothing happened.
Chat began to finger the steel tip on the end of his tail anxiously.
Ladybug went to the door bringing up the rear and gave it a firmer shove to no avail.
Chat sucked in a sharp breath. “We’re trapped.”
“Hardly,” Ladybug snorted, going back to the front door and bracing her shoulder against it. “It’s just a revolving door. We’ve been in stickier situations. Help me push this thing.”
There was a beat, and when her partner failed to respond, she turned to glare at him. “Chat—…Noir?”
He was incredibly pale, eyes wide with terror.
“Oh, hey.” She abandoned the door to go to him and take him by the shoulders. “Chaton, breathe. It’s okay. Look at me.”
She took his face in her hands and guided it down to her level so that he had no choice but to meet her gaze.
“Chat Noir, it’s all right. You’re safe,” she coaxed.
He swallowed and made several false starts before he got out a shaky, “I’m…claustrophobic.”
She nodded and put on a soft, reassuring smile. “It’s okay. That’s totally valid, but there’s nothing to be afraid of right now. We’re not in any danger, there’s plenty of air, and the worst-case scenario is that we’re in here for half an hour or so until someone finds us and gets the electrical wiring working again. I know it feels really overwhelming, but it’s going to be okay.”
His teeth chattered as he tried to reply.
She waited patiently, but eventually, he gave up and muttered a defeated, “S-Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay,” she assured, running a thumb gently over the lower edge of his mask. “You’re good. Don’t even worry about it. I’m here for you, Chaton.”
He gave her a weak smile. “Th-Thanks.”
“How about we try breathing?” she suggested. “Breathe with me. In and out.”
He did his best to follow along, but he was drowning in anxiety and too distracted to concentrate.
“Focus, Chaton,” she gently urged.
He shook his head. “S-Sorry.”
She pursed her lips, scanning her brain for any way she could help her partner.
Suddenly, a harebrained idea came to mind, and she leaned in, pressing a kiss to his jaw.
He blinked, and his eyes finally came into focus.
She gave him a shy smile before slowly leaning in again and gradually moving her lips up to his cheek.
She kissed the edge of his mask, the shell of his ear, his temple, his forehead, the tip of his nose.
He sucked in a breath and held it as his eyes stared into hers with rapt attention.
She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, and they both melted into the sweet, airy kiss.
When they pulled back, they were both flushed-faced, but Chat Noir was breathing regularly.
She smiled bashfully, reaching up to stroke his hair. “You back with me, Chaton?”
He swallowed and nodded.
Her smile gained strength. “Think you can help me push this door?”
Again, he nodded, and with both of their strength combined, they easily moved the door until they were able to slip out.
Ladybug heaved a huge sigh of relief when her feet touched pavement. “Well. That’s another strike against automatic doors. If I had a euro for ever time that’s happened, I’d—”
“—Ladybug?” Chat called tentatively.
She blinked and turned to face him. “What’s up, Chat Noir?”
He licked his lips. “I know you haven’t had any qualms in the past about kissing me when it was necessary during an akuma fight, but…”
He gulped and wrung his tail. “…What just happened…was that…?”
She took a deep breath before striding forward and going up on tiptoe to press her lips to his once more.
“I’ve wanted to remember doing that for a while,” she whispered.
He inhaled slowly. “You know, I bet I could do a better job if I wasn’t under the control of an akuma or in the middle of a panic attack.”
A wicked smile spread across her lips as she took a step back. “Maybe one day we can find out.”
He arched an eyebrow. “How about this Friday night after I take you to dinner and a movie?”
She pursed her lips. “How about a race from the Eiffel Tower to Sacré Coeur followed by a rooftop picnic instead?”
His eyes widened. “You’re serious?”
She nodded.
“Deal,” he agreed, a jubilant grin making his entire being shine.
Sorry about the wait! I was like drawing all things not related to fills, but today will be. I will be back with ‘Disguise’ tonight, but have “A Helping Hand” for now.
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship, Angst
Pairing(s): LadyNoir
Summary: Ladybug arrives late to patrol.
Warning: No warnings! Well, one – no beta!
After the disaster that was last evening and realizing she sucked way more at physics than she first thought, Ladybug had been held up double checking her solutions from the assignment tonight, making sure she applied the correct formula with the right information that it took Tikki several hair pulls to get going. Her yo-yo thwip-ed rapidly through the night, pulling her quickly to her destination and she hoped that he hadn’t left.
He didn’t leave her any message warning her might.
Not even a message saying that he was bored waiting.
Normally, she might have one or two – or ten – messages from him, but… this was bizarre.
“Sorry!” was the first thing to burst out of her mouth when she touched down finally, retracting her yo-yo and placing it on her hip. “I managed to get through physics tonight so… small victory, yay.”
“Heh, that’s good to hear…”
A step forward and she had frozen, peering at his back with narrowed eyes.
… There wasn’t a single pun in that brief statement. Also, he was still looking away from her.
No akuma alert had been put out so he wasn’t a doppelganger as far as she knew. But what if it was and just hadn’t been caught yet?
Taking a few more steps forward, she became even more suspicious when he began turning her head away from the direction she approached.
“… A second opinion might be appurreciated.”
“Huh…? O-Oh, yeah, I can look it over.”
Gosh that physically hurt her, but he didn’t react.
Okay, even a good doppelganger would try to keep his mannerisms straight to fool her, right?
A jump step suddenly to the left since she’d been making him turn that way, she caught his startled eye – his glassy, tearful eyes – before his head snapped away and his ears drooped. All at once, homework was a forgotten subject.
“Chat…”
“It’s nothing, I swear…! I-I was hoping it would stop before you got here and--”
“Kitty,” she cut him off, sitting down next to him, and frowned as his shoulders hunched. “You can tell me.”
“I know, My Lady, but… it’s personal life stuff. I don’t know how much I can say without risking anything.”
Biting the inside of her lip, she really did hate that rule. Only being able to support Chat Noir while they were in their masks was detrimental, but one day they’d be able to peel off the masks; one day she would know her best friend helping her save the day. Moving closer to him for now, she wrapped and arm around his shoulder and drew him into a gentle hug.
“Try to keep it as vague as you can… I’m here for you, okay?”
Holding out her other hand to him, she looked up and met his eyes shining with fresh tears. His clawed hand met hers and held on tight.
“… So, today, a year ago now… someone important to me disappeared…”
Thanks so much to everyone who participated! ^.^ I’m now writing a short, five-chapter story. It’s called I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things). Keep an eye out for it in September.
It’s mostly Lady Noir and Adrienette, but Chapter Two is sort of Ladrien. I say “sort of” because it’s a partial reveal story, so Ladybug knows Adrien is Chat Noir in Chapter Two, though he doesn’t know her identity at the time.
It’s basically Ladybug/Marinette being there for Adrien and supporting him and encouraging him to live his own life and do what makes him happy, not what his father wants him to do.
Does that sound interesting?
Thanks again to everyone who submitted a word! ^.^
Lady Noir: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things): Chapter One
Many thanks to @corporeal-terrestrial for this chapter’s prompt!
Read it on AO3: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things): Chapter One
“How dare your father talk to you like that!” Ladybug snapped, fingers curling into trembling fists.
Chat Noir winced and immediately tried to walk things back.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he insisted, holding up his hands placatingly. “I was being pretty emotional, and he doesn’t have a high tolerance for feelings. It was a long, stressful day for him too, and my hysterics were the last straw.”
She snorted and stomped her foot. “That doesn’t give him the right to talk down to you and brush aside your feelings like that.”
He tried to interrupt, but she steamrolled ahead.
“You’re not hysterical, and how you feel matters, Chat Noir. What kind of father treats his son like that?” she seethed.
Internally, Chat flinched.
His expression darkened as he muttered, “Mine does…and it’s not a big deal. He’s always like that.”
He shook his head and reached out to her, resting his fingertips lightly on her forearm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything, but I just wanted to feel like someone heard me, you know? I just wanted to vent. I don’t want you to fight my father or anything, so please calm down, Ladybug. Please don’t get akumatized over something stupid like this.”
The fire abruptly went out in her eyes as she realized that she was only making things worse for her partner.
“It’s not stupid, though,” she whispered, gently taking him by the arm and guiding him over to the edge of the roof to sit.
She tucked one leg underneath herself so she could angle to face him as she laced her fingers through his.
“I’m sorry, Chat Noir. I know you just wanted someone to listen, but I can’t help wanting to jump in and fix your problems for you. I’m like that,” she explained sheepishly. “I can’t stand by and watch someone I care about suffer and not do anything.”
His eyes widened, and his jaw descended several centimeters in surprise at her words.
Her brow scrunched up, crinkling her mask. “You do know that I care about you, don’t you?”
He swallowed. “I mean… Yeah, but…”
Shaking her head, she blew out a long sigh. “Chat Noir, you are my precious partner, and I care about you more than I can put into words. If there’s anything I can do to help you, just say so. I’m always here for you.”
He gently tugged his hand away from her, moving his arm protectively across his body so he could rest his hand on his opposite arm in a small attempt at self-comfort.
His eyes dropped to the street below.
“Thank you, but I don’t think there’s anything you can do for me,” he replied glumly. “Your partner isn’t the one with the problem; it’s the guy behind the mask who needs you.”
A long, heavy silence stretched between them.
Chat Noir was just about to thank her for listening and get to his feet to go when Ladybug finally spoke.
“What’s his name?”
Chat blinked, turning to stare incredulously at his partner. “What?”
“The guy who needs me…what’s his name?” she repeated, a steely determination set in her eyes.
He quirked an eyebrow. “…You’re sure about this?”
She nodded resolutely.
“What about secret identities?” he pressed with suspicion.
Her expression twisted into a grimace. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m ready to tell you who I am…not yet.”
“‘Not yet’,” he echoed, mentally noting that her answer implied that, eventually, a day would come when she would be ready. “Not yet” was infinitely better than “never”.
“Not yet,” she repeated shamefacedly. “If you’re okay with me knowing who you are but not knowing who I am…I’d like to do whatever I can to help the guy behind the mask.”
He considered, weighing his options.
There was always the possibility that knowing his identity would change things between them…but maybe that would be for the better. It would be hard not knowing who she was, but maybe it would be worth it.
“…Adrien Agreste,” he whispered.
He watched as her expression cycled through what he thought looked like surprise and panic before a flicker of what he hoped was delight flashed across her face.
Before he could be sure, she got ahold of her emotions and slammed the floodgates down on them, replacing them with a carefully neutral look.
“Thank you for telling me,” she breathed, voice tight with suppressed tears as she circled an arm around him and pulled him into a close embrace.
He melted into her, resting his head against hers and nuzzling her hair. “Thank you for letting me tell you.”
They sat like that for a while in relative silence.
After a bit, Ladybug tentatively reached up to stroke his hair.
He purred quietly, letting go of the instinctive impulse that had been instilled in him by his parents to put on a cool, composed front in public.
“It’s going to be all right, Chaton,” she whispered periodically.
Lady Noir: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things): Chapter Four
Read it on AO3: I’m Learning to Love (Walking Away from Things): Chapter Four: Anachronistic
“Chaton?” Ladybug called after a long stretch of silence.
“Hm?” Chat Noir hummed, not bothering to lift his head from her lap.
She kept playing with his hair absentmindedly as she gazed at Montparnasse Tower in the distance.
“How are things going with you and Marinette’s plan to ‘change the downward trajectory’ of your life?”
He chuckle-snorted at the overly dramatic name he and Marinette had come up with. “It’s going pretty well, I’d say. I’m still investigating other career options, but I’ve talked with my father about reducing my modeling workload and cutting back on the extracurriculars.”
“And how did that go?” She tried to manufacture something like genuine interest. He had already told Marinette, so it was hard to hear the same news a second time and still react in a way that seemed authentic.
He stiffened slightly. “I mean…not great? I told him that I wanted more time to focus on my studies, so he agreed, but…he was disappointed in my ‘inability to handle my various responsibilities satisfactorily’.”
He shifted his position, suddenly uncomfortable on the metal deck of the Eiffel Tower.
“I didn’t tell him I don’t want to take over the company yet.”
She gave his shoulder a comforting pat and then went back to massaging his scalp. “It’s going to be okay, Chaton. You just have to focus on what’s truly important—your happiness and wellbeing.”
He made a noncommittal noise. “I just wish it were easier…that it didn’t involve my father making me feel like I’m letting him down because I don’t have the time management skills to do the work of three sons.”
“I know, but you’re doing a good job, Adrien,” she reassured. “Don’t let him grate you down. His expectations aren’t realistic.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Just…keep reminding me of that, okay, My Lady?”
“Of course,” she promised, gently rubbing the shell of his human ear under his wild mop of hair.
“…There’s actually something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, if you feel like you’re up for it. It’s kind of intense,” she warned.
He pushed himself up so that he could look at her while she spoke. “What’s up, Buguinette?”
She swallowed. “I think I’m ready to tell you who I am.”
His eyes flew wide, and he leaned in incredulously. “You what?”
“It’s felt so wrong, you not knowing, ever since I found out who you are,” she confessed with a groan. “It would be one thing if we were strangers, but we’re not. I’m somebody close to you, and it’s not fair. I feel like I’m lying to you whenever we’re together, and I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Hey.” He reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not lying to me. It’s okay, Ladybug. I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to this.”
“You didn’t, though,” she grumbled. “We couldn’t have known that we knew each other as civilians.”
He shrugged. “Still. It’s okay. You don’t have to feel bad about it, and I don’t want you revealing your identity to me out of guilt. I know this is a big deal for you, and I don’t want you feeling like your hand is being forced. I want you to tell me who you are because you want me to know.”
“I do,” she stressed. “It’s not like that. I’m not doing this just because I feel guilty. I promise.”
He nodded, giving her an encouraging smile. “Okay. If that’s really the case, then I’m ready whenever you’re ready to tell me.”
She took a big breath. “Soon. I’m pretty sure… Any day now. I just…I have to psych myself up to do it.”
“Okay. Whenever you’re ready,” he repeated supportively, trying to contain the buzz of excitement crackling through him.
She winced. “But there’s something else I need to tell you first.”
His forehead crinkled. “Sure. What is it? Something bad?”
She nodded, her gaze going back to Montparnasse Tower, causing her to shudder.
“I need to tell you why I’ve been so adamant that secret identities need to stay secret in the first place.”
“In order to keep us and our loved ones safe, right?” He shifted uncomfortably.
“Yes, but there’s more,” she informed dolefully. “Do you remember when I brought you that beret for your name day from your Brazilian fanclub six years ago?”
He blinked, failing to see the connection. “Yes?”
“That was actually from me,” she sighed, deflating. “In the original timeline, I signed my real name and delivered it as Ladybug, and you must have put two and two together and realized who I was.”
“Original timeline?” he repeated, feeling completely lost.
“Bunnix came to get me right after I left your room, and she took me into the future of that timeline where Chat Noir was akumatized into Chat Blanc,” Ladybug soldiered on resolutely with her explanation.
Chat’s jaw dropped. “Whoa. Wait. What?!”
Ladybug nodded, doing her best to hold back the tears that were burning just behind her eyes. “I don’t know what happened. Bunnix didn’t tell me anything, so all that I could piece together was that Chat Noir knew who I was, we were dating, and that had somehow led to you being akumatized.”
Chat sucked in a sharp breath. “Wow. …That’s…That’s a lot.”
She nodded, throat tightening. “The solution was to go back and keep Adrien from finding out my secret identity, so all I knew for certain was that I had to keep my identity a secret from you and Adrien and that we couldn’t date so you wouldn’t get akumatized.”
He winced. “Well…suddenly your vehemence about keeping me in the dark makes a little more sense, but…”
He bit his bottom lip, hesitating before he asked, “Was it bad?”
“Yes,” she whispered, voice trembling.
He exhaled slowly, reaching out and pulling her into a side hug. “Okay. Well…how do we know it’s safe for you to tell me who you are now?”
She shook her head. “Other than the fact that Bunnix hasn’t shown up to dissuade me? We don’t.”
“That’s reassuring,” he muttered. “Well, I guess all we can do is just avoid dating, and maybe things will be fine.”
He missed the way that her expression darkened.
“That was forever ago, right? Maybe the possibility of that timeline is behind us,” he suggested, trying to stay positive. “Besides, it’s not like you’re interested in me, anyway. Maybe we have nothing to worry about.”
“Maybe…except for the fact that I never truly got over Adrien even if I was trying to focus on being his friend, and I sort of ended up falling for Chat Noir somewhere along the way,” she grumbled, feeling like all was lost.
He pulled back to stare at her in amazement.
She gave him a sad, hopeless smile.
“Shh,” he cooed, leaning in to kiss her on the temple. “Let’s not let ‘what if’s ruin things. It’s a beautiful night, and the only thing wrong at the moment is you missing how great the present is because you’re worried about the future.”
He pulled her in to sit between his legs with her back pressed against his front. He wrapped her up in a bear hug from behind and buried his face in her neck.
“Don’t worry, Buguinette. Don’t you know together we’re unstoppable?”
“I’d like to believe that,” she sighed, closing her eyes and losing herself in him.
Summary: When Ladybug crashes into Adrien’s window, the last thing she expects is to end up comforting him, striking up a friendship, and inviting herself back in the future. Neither Adrien nor Ladybug could be happier with how the evening turns out.
Lady Noir/Adrienette: Save Yourself (I’ll Help You): Chapter One
Read it on AO3: Save Yourself (I’ll Help You): Chapter One: Save Me
“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Ladybug noted as they rounded the spire of Sainte Chapelle. “Something on your mind?”
“That obvious?” Chat Noir chuckled mirthlessly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he mentally kicked himself for worrying her needlessly when he knew she had so much on her own plate.
He forced a playful smile. “I thought I was putting up a pretty good front. Do I at least get points for effort?”
She slowed to a stop on the steeply pitched roof to frown in concern at her partner. “Chat Noir, if something’s bothering you, you shouldn’t stuff it down and try to hide it.”
He looked away, struggling not to laugh darkly at the irony of her assertion because bottling things up and concealing his feelings was exactly the way Adrien’s father preferred that he deal with matters.
“It’s nothing.” He shrugged, hoping she would buy the lie and move on. He felt stupid for being upset over something so silly, and the last thing he needed was for her to think he was stupid too.
“Will you let me decide if it’s nothing?” she inquired tentatively, afraid of pushing him to open up to her but wanting to be there to support him, if he needed it.
“If you feel comfortable talking about it,” she quickly added at his surprised silence. “You don’t have to. I don’t want to force you to confide in me, but…I wish you would.”
He studied her for a long moment, taking in her earnest expression, the pure desire to help that was perpetually shining in her eyes.
In spite of himself, his lips pulled up at the corner into a soft, weary, lopsided grin.
“All right. How can I say no to my Lady?” he reluctantly agreed, walking over to the edge of the roof’s gable and hopping down to the arcade just above the church’s rose window where they could sit and talk undisturbed.
She lowered herself on her yoyo and settled in beside him, stressing, “Thank you.”
He quirked an eyebrow, chuckling in earnest, “Why are you acting like I’m the one doing you a favor?”
She shrugged sheepishly. “I just…It makes me really happy that you’re willing to confide in me. I know I haven’t always been…” She bit her lip uneasily, averting her gaze. “I know you feel like I don’t always keep you in the loop, both before and after we lost Maître Fu, and I can appreciate how hard it might be to trust someone who doesn’t always act like she trusts you, so…”
Hesitantly, she looked back up at him, meeting his eyes. “…So I’m really happy that you still trust me…that I haven’t messed this up yet.”
“Oh, Bug,” he sighed, scooting closer and pulling her into a side hug. “La-dy-bug.” He clicked his tongue in feigned admonishment as he squeezed her tight. “I know you trust me in all the ways it really counts. Maybe I didn’t always get the point of all the secrets when we were younger, but I get it now…most of the time, anyway,” he amended a little more honestly as an afterthought.
“You do?” She tipped her head to get a glimpse of his expression.
He nodded and then nuzzled her hair. “I get that our lives are in constant danger, the lives of our loved ones, the fate of Paris… I get that all of that weighs heavily on your shoulders, and I understand that you’re just trying to keep yourself and me and everyone safe. I understand….” His voice lowered, softening with vulnerability. “That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt me sometimes when you feel like you have to keep me at arms’ length, but I get why you do it, and I don’t hold it against you.”
“You don’t?” she echoed in disbelief.
He fluttered his hand, palm down, back and forth. “Meh. Not much. Not usually. I mean, I have my sulky days where I’m a total drama queen about it and collapse onto my bed with my arm thrown over my face and whine to my kwami incessantly, but…yeah,” he chuckled. “Normally, I don’t hold it against you. Not anymore. I think it comes with growing up a little bit, getting more mature,” he bragged, waggling his eyebrows at her playfully to lighten the mood.
She burst out laughing, assuring, “You’re very mature, Chaton.”
His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Oh, yeah?” he hummed as his eyebrow arched. “You don’t sound very sincere, Ladybug. It sounds like you’re mocking me,” he began to pout. “I think my feelings are hurt.”
“No, no,” she insisted as her giggle fit slowly dried up. She rested a hand lightly on his knee and smiled genuinely, making his heart flutter. “You really have matured over the past three years. I might not have said anything, but I have noticed. Sure, you’re still goofy and ridiculous sometimes—and, I mean, I’d never want that part of you to change because sometimes your sense of humor is the only thing that gets me through some hopeless-seeming situations—”
“—I knew you always secretly enjoyed my jokes,” he snickered, finally vindicated after years of her groaning and eye rolls.
“—But,” she continued, rolling her eyes and shaking her head with a wide grin she couldn’t suppress. “you really have matured into a capable, dependable partner who I can always count on when my back’s up against a wall. I trust you,” she stressed, her expression sobering. “You read my mind and know what I want, what I need, without me having to say anything. There’s no one else in my life I can trust like that, not even myself, Chat Noir.”
She looked down at the cobbled streets of the Île de la Cité below them and sighed, muttering, “So I worry that I’m screwing everything up by keeping secrets and putting walls up between us…but I’ve talked to Tikki, and she doesn’t think that there’s any other way to keep everyone safe. In the absence of other mentors, I have to trust her judgment and believe that she’s right…but I worry that I’m alienating you…that I’m losing you.”
“Shhh, Buguinette,” Chat cooed, pulling her in closer once more and resting his cheek on the top of her head. “You will never lose me. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I feel like I’ve almost lost you so many times,” she laughed miserably, a bitter snort.
He shook his head, effectively nuzzling her. “I always come back. And don’t worry. I’m not going to get frustrated and quit on you. …I’ve learned from you that being a real hero means not running away and giving up when you make a mistake but sticking around, toughing it out, and fixing things in whatever way you can…. I’m in this for the long haul, Ladybug.”
She snaked her arm around his back, returning his squeeze. “Thanks. I just…I can’t help but worry that one of these days you’ll be gone permanently, and it’s going to be my fault.”
“No,” he assured with absolute certainty. “We started this together; we end it together.”
“Thanks,” she repeated, some of the tension finally melting from her muscles. “I hope so.”
“Believe it,” he urged, giving her a squeeze and then pulling back to meet her watery gaze. “You know, it sounds like you were the one who really needed to talk, Buguinette. What was that you said about not bottling up feelings and trying to hide them?”
She blushed, looking away as he chuckled at her expense. “Do as I say, not as I do,” she admonished, whapping him on the arm before turning to him with a pout. “So? Spill already. I lowered my guard and got all vulnerable and touchy-feely with you. Now, it’s your turn. What were you so broody about earlier?”
He took a deep inhale and blew it out slowly, looking up to contemplate the stars along with his word choice. “Honestly, like I said, it’s nothing. I feel kind of silly getting so upset about it.”
“It’s not silly if you’re upset,” she comforted, gently placing a hand on his shoulder in support. “I’m not going to laugh at you, Chat Noir.”
He pursed his lips. “Yeah. I know. I just…I don’t want to bother you. I know you’re crazy stressed out with your own stuff, so I try not to throw my problems on top of your already heavy load.”
“Oh, Chaton,” she sighed, shaking her head. “You’re not a burden. I promise. Yes, I have a lot to deal with, but I will always have time and energy for you. You’re one of the most important people in my life.”
He gave a start, his head whipping around to stare at her in astonishment. “Wait…really?”
She nodded, eyes shining with sincerity. “Of course, Chaton. You’re really precious to me. Irreplaceable.”
“Oh,” he breathed, letting her words sink in.
“Yeah,” she whispered, a soft smile spreading across her lips.
He took her hand in his, threading his fingers through hers.
“…It was just something my father said,” he sighed, coming clean.
She braced herself, knowing from what he’d shared with Ladybug and Marinette that things never ended well when Chat Noir’s father had a word with him. His father could be insensitive at best, downright cruel at worst.
She gave his hand a squeeze, gently prompting, “What did he say?”
Chat chuckled darkly. “Well, apparently, my father hasn’t noticed the way I’ve matured over the years like you have. According to him, I’m too childish for a seventeen-year-old. We were talking about…” He paused, mulling over the best way to explain it. “…our family situation. I made the mistake of suggesting he try to move on from Mother and get remarried and be happy so that we could be a family again…and he just kind of lost it,” he sighed, hanging his head.
Ladybug winced, scooting in closer so that her knee touched his thigh in a reminder of her presence.
“He told me I was idealistic—a naïve, asinine romantic who still believed in fairy stories.” Chat Noir laughed flippantly, almost sounding amused, but Ladybug could tell how much his father’s scathing rebukes must have hurt. Despite everything, Chat Noir still loved his father and yearned for his respect and love.
“He told me that real life doesn’t work out the way it does in fiction. Apparently, in real life, you’re alone from the day you’re born until the day you die, and no one’s ever going to save you.” He wilted as he repeated his father’s words, chinks forming in his veneer of composure. “…He said that there are no happy endings, no true love, no magic spells, no fairy godmothers to solve all of your problems.”
She turned so that she could rub his back soothingly without releasing his hand. “I’m sorry he went off on you like that. He must still be very heartbroken over your mother leaving to have developed such a cynical view of the world.”
“Yeah,” Chat whispered, the word hollow. “…Except…I’m afraid that maybe he’s right.”
Ladybug’s brow furrowed into a deep V of confusion. “What do you mean?”
He looked up at her searchingly. “Fiction isn’t real…is it? Real life doesn’t actually turn out the way it does in books or movies, does it?”
She pursed her lips as she parsed his words, trying to come up with a truthful yet hope-inspiring reply. “…No, not all the time, it doesn’t, but fiction isn’t completely made up either. It’s based in some truth…deeper truths. I think fiction conveys really important lessons about being human and how to live, so it’s not like it’s worthless, even if the things in books and movies didn’t actually happen.”
He looked away and was quiet for a long stretch, lost in thought.
She bit the inside of her cheek, desperately trying to read the mercurial expressions flitting across his face.
Finally, he spoke again, as if narrating a story, “I was really sheltered as a child. I didn’t grow up with many friends, and I didn’t get out much. What I learned about the world, I learned primarily through the books I read and the TV shows and movies I watched. I thought fiction was real for years.”
“Oh,” she breathed, his father’s words taking on a deeper meaning, a new sting.
“I found out when I was, like, ten that fiction didn’t depict historical events, but I’ve still always believed that the books that I read, the movies I watched, were realistic, you know?” He snuck a peek at her. “Like…as in, they could actually happen. I thought my parents’ story was an outlier because I had read hundreds of thousands of pages of happily ever after and seen hundreds of hours of movies where things worked out in the end.”
He licked his lips nervously. “I thought…my becoming Chat Noir was the start of my story. I thought there was some grand plan my life would naturally follow, and I’d meet the person I was destined to share my life with, go through a couple trials and tribulations, but then come out on top at the end and ride off into the sunset.”
She looked away, and so did he.
The air was heavy between them, but she didn’t let go of his hand.
“…My father is right, though, isn’t he?” Chat whispered after a long silence. “There is no guarantee that things are going to work out. We’re all just grasping blindly at whatever scraps of happiness we can get our hands on while we’re alive, and then we’re doomed to die alone.”
“I think that’s too fatalistic,” she replied, putting all her conviction behind her words.
He turned his head and studied her with interest. “You think?”
She nodded. “If I’ve learned anything from being Ladybug, it’s that human beings are fundamentally good and loving.”
He cocked an eyebrow, listening intently, grabbing onto her words like a lifeline.
“Yes, there are horrible people out there who do abominable things,” she granted. “But, for as much ugliness as I’ve seen, I’ve also witnessed bravery and strength and selflessness and compassion. People are good,” she reiterated, “and even though there’s no master plan or guarantee of happiness, there are beautiful things out there just waiting to be experienced and friends waiting to be made. It’s not all chaos and misery. Life is good and worth living, even if it doesn’t proceed in a neat, orderly fashion like it does in fiction.”
“Oh,” he mumbled softly, tears trickling down his cheeks.
“Shh,” she cooed, releasing her hold on his hand to reach up and wipe away the tears carefully with her thumbs. “I can’t promise that the stars will align and everything will work out in your life, but I can tell you that my parents have a relationship straight out of a meet-cute romance novel. They’re living their own version of ‘happily ever after’, so it really is possible. Don’t let your father completely stomp out your hope.”
He nodded, his sniffles becoming a weak chuckle. “Thanks, Buguinette. I guess I really did need to talk things out too after all.”
“You’re very welcome,” she assured with a bolstering smile. “I’m glad that what I had to say was able to help.”
“Me too,” he laughed a little more strongly. “I’ve been feeling really down since he said all that to me last night.” His lips drew together, doubling back onto themselves as he considered how honest to be with her.
Deciding to go all in, he looked down and to the side as he admitted, “…before that, even, actually. I’ve been feeling kind of hopeless recently. For a while.”
“What? Why?” she pressed urgently, alarmed and distressed that she had missed any and all of the signs.
He shrugged. “Just…again, this is probably silly, but—”
“—I promise it’s not,” she huffed.
“—I’ve been feeling lonely. A lot of my friends have found the person they want to marry and spend their lives with,” he explained. “And, like I said, I kind of grew up learning how the world works from books and Disney movies, and, in the stories I read and watched, people always seemed to meet the person they were destined for when they were young, and I feel like I’m getting old, past the point where I was supposed to find my soulmate, but I haven’t found them yet, so…”
He flinched, grimacing as he clarified, “Well, I mean, I thought I’d met my soulmate, but I can’t very well marry you against your will, so…”
“No,” Ladybug agreed softly, compassionately, giving his arm a supportive squeeze. “But you can do better, Chat Noir. There are plenty of other people out there who you haven’t even met yet. You’re seventeen—not old by a long stretch—and you have plenty of time to find someone who appreciates you the way you deserve.”
“Thanks,” he chuckled, oddly comforted by her reassurances. “I always appreciate you rejecting me gently and trying to frame it in terms of me being out of your league.”
“You are lightyears out of my league, Chaton,” she insisted, giving his shoulder a friendly bump with her own.
He rolled his eyes and gave her arm a playful elbow in return. “Says you.”
“I do say so,” she snorted. “You’re the sweetest, most genuinely good guy I know. The only reason I’m turning you down is because I am insane and a masochist who doesn’t allow herself to have nice things.”
“So long as you know what you’re missing out on,” he snickered, and they shared conspiratorial grins before the atmosphere turned solemn once more.
“…I guess I’ve just been feeling lost lately, and what my father said completely threw me into a tailspin when I was already feeling turned around,” he sighed. “I’ve been feeling like I don’t know what kind of ‘story’ my life is, so I don’t know what to read or watch to show me what to do.”
Ladybug nodded, scooting in so that her shoulder rested against his in solidarity. “I can relate to that. I’ve felt totally disoriented many times over the years, and I’ve only been able to keep going because someone stepped in and did or said something that made me realize that I was stronger, smarter, and more capable than I was giving myself credit for.”
She looked to him and smiled bashfully. “You have been that person on so many occasions, Chat Noir. So, thank you. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you in my corner, cheering me on and supporting me.”
“I’m glad I could be there for you,” he replied in such a sincere tone that she knew he really meant it. It wasn’t just the usual platitude.
“I think that’s part of my problem,” he sighed, his affectionate smile of seconds before dimming and disappearing.
“In the books I read about people who are…” He mentally fished for the word, face twisting up into various frowns along the way as he came up empty. “I don’t want to say ‘broken’ or ‘damaged’ because that’s such an ugly way to talk about people, but…I mean people like me who have had crappy childhoods or messed-up relationships with their parents…people who have gone through things that leave them struggling to deal with life and the world the way that it is….” He looked at her uncertainly. “Do you know what I’m trying to say?”
She nodded. “You mean ‘survivors’. Survivors like you.”
Slowly, he started to nod, accepting her word and assimilating it into his self-concept. “Yeah. Survivors…. In the books I read about people who have survived various things and are trying to heal so that they can be happy and healthy, there are always people who help the main character through things and support them and encourage them.”
He took a deep breath before confessing, “I was thinking that maybe that was the kind of story my life was. Maybe I hadn’t met the person I’m supposed to marry because I have to go on a healing journey first, but I don’t feel like I’ve met the mentors I need to guide me or the friends who are supposed to support me yet. Like, maybe I’m still in the first stages of the book where all the characters haven’t been introduced yet.”
He looked up, suddenly anxious that he sounded insane. “I’m sorry. Am I even being coherent?”
“Of course,” she insisted, nodding encouragingly. “Keep talking. I’m with you.”
He took another slow inhale and continued, “Lately, I’ve started worrying that maybe there are no other characters in my story. Maybe I’m on my own and no one’s going to save me or teach me how to save myself. Maybe I have to do this all on my own…but I don’t have any precedent for that kind of story,” he reasoned sadly. “I don’t know any books or movies where the main character pulls themselves up out of whatever they’re going through all on their own, so…it’s like I don’t have a road map, and I don’t even know where I’m going in the first place to be able to ask directions. And then Father told me the stories I’d based my entire understanding of the world on were a pack of lies, so…”
His shoulders slumped in defeat, his ears and tail drooping.
“…I feel like everything’s been turned on its head lately,” he confided in a whisper. “I don’t know if any of what I’m saying is making sense, but what I’m trying to tell you is that I feel lost and alone and scared, and I feel like the things I put my trust in weren’t true.”
She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in, tipping her head to rest against his. “Shhh. It’s okay. I think I get the important parts.”
“I don’t sound crazy?” he forced a chuckle, trying to put up a lighthearted front even while his chest felt like it was being crushed by a boulder.
“No,” she assured. “Your experiences may be really different than mine, but I think I can appreciate trusting in something only to find out that the thing…or person, in my case…wasn’t really worth the amount of trust you placed in them. Like I said, I’ve been lost and confused before. You’re far more coherent than I am when I’m having a breakdown.”
“Okay, good,” he laughed genuinely. “Thanks for letting me word-vomit all over you. I didn’t realize how much I needed to get all of this junk out of me.”
He bit his lip, hesitating before admitting, “I don’t really have anyone to talk to.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t feel comfortable talking with any of your friends about things like this?”
He grimaced, dropping his gaze. “I mean…It’s not that I couldn’t talk to them. I just don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want to be the boring, depressed kid who sucks the fun out of everything either. I typically keep up a cheerful, resilient front with them because they’re good, kind people, but they haven’t really gone through any of what I’ve gone through, so I don’t know if they’d be able to understand.”
He shook his head, glancing at her to gauge her reaction (distressed but eager to help in any way possible). “The last thing I want is to spill my guts to them and then for them to stare at my blankly, internally freaking out because they don’t know what to say. I don’t want to make them uncomfortable around me, so I tend just to keep things to myself…but, now, I really need support, someone who understands and can help me…but I’ve reached a point where I feel completely alone sometimes…and it feels like it’s too late, like I can’t tell them any of this now.”
He sighed, gazing up toward the stars once more. “I don’t know, Ladybug. I just wish I had someone to talk to so I didn’t feel so desperately isolated anymore.”
“…You can always talk to me,” she offered, feeling small and insignificant and completely ill-equipped to be the kind of support system he needed. Still, she was willing to try.
His lips twitched into the approximation of a smile, and he dropped his head to rest against hers. “Thank you, Ladybug. I really do appreciate it. Tonight… I needed this…but I don’t think this is something we could do regularly. I know you’ve got a lot going on, and I’d hate to take up your time.”
“I don’t mind,” she insisted with a huff. “I was serious when I said I always had time and energy for you.”
He nodded. “I know, but I don’t want to be one more thing on your plate. Besides, it’s kind of hard to skirt around identity-revealing information with you. There are a lot of things that are just too specifically personal that I’d want to vent about but couldn’t. If we start doing something like this regularly, I know it’s only a matter of time before I say something that gives me away.”
Her face crumpled into a deep frown as she wracked her brain for a way to make it work, a way to be there for him. Her partner needed her, and she refused to let him down on something this vitally important.
“Even if you said it was okay for you to know my identity,” he continued quietly, ruefully, “that would only cause problems. It wouldn’t feel fair. I’d want to know who you were. I’d worry about whether you didn’t want me to know because my identity changed how you felt about me or something. I don’t know. It would just drive me crazy, so we probably shouldn’t even go there. It should be mutual identity reveal or no reveal at all.”
Her heart sank as he laid out the facts for her, crushing her nascent plans.
She gulped. “I…can’t reveal my identity to you. Tikki says that it’s too dangerous, especially with me being the Guardian. No one can know who I am. We can’t endanger all of the kwamis and Miraculouses.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, voice soft and resigned. “I know. It’s okay, Bug. Don’t worry about it. Tonight was wonderful, but I’ll be okay, so don’t worry.”
She pursed her lips, frustrated by her own impotence as she found herself stuck between choosing her duty or her partner.
She wanted to cry and tell him not to lie to her, that he wasn’t fine, that it wasn’t okay. She wanted him to hold her accountable for her actions, for how she was failing him.
But he didn’t.
He snuggled up with her, pretending everything was fine, enjoying the moment in all of its transient glory.
“Life is beautiful sometimes,” he whispered.
“Mmhm,” she agreed, unable to find her voice amidst her troubled, roiling thoughts.
They stayed like that for nearly a quarter of an hour, and then he pulled away, getting to his feet and stretching.
She blinked up at him curiously, arching an eyebrow in question.
“I should be going,” he explained. “It’s getting late.”
Alarms started going off in her head.
She felt like her window of opportunity was quickly closing, like if she let this moment end, it would be as if it had never happened. He would pretend everything was fine while slowly crumbling on the inside.
She couldn’t leave him stuck where he was, lost and alone without anyone to turn to.
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she blurted out suddenly.
He blinked at her, staring startled for a moment before his mouth finally formed the question, “Sorry, what? What about Marinette?”
“You should talk to her,” she hurriedly insisted, scrambling to her feet. “If I can’t be there for you, maybe she can. She’s very trustworthy and nonjudgmental. You could tell her anything, and I bet she’d listen and try her best to understand. I…I need you to talk to someone, Chaton. I need you to be okay, so…”
She surged forward on impulse, pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning and running, tossing, “Talk to Marinette” back over her shoulder as she fled the scene and all of the feelings that had welled up inside of her on that rooftop, making her feel very mixed up indeed.
In a daze, Chat Noir somehow made it back home, his head spinning as he tried to make sense of the world.
He released his transformation and collapsed backwards onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling in mystification.
“Plagg? What just happened?” Adrien inquired of his kwami, praying that the little cheese gremlin would be in one of his beneficent moods.
Taking mercy on his holder, Plagg forewent his usual after-patrol Camembert fest and landed on the comforter next to Adrien.
“What part are you having trouble with, exactly?” he snickered. “The part where she kissed you on the cheek? The snuggling? The honest conversation?”
“All of it,” Adrien laughed. “Like…did that happen?”
“Yep,” Plagg helpfully confirmed.
“She doesn’t usually open up like that,” Adrien hummed thoughtfully. “I mean, sometimes she’ll confide in me about things a little bit, but, even then, she’s still pretty guarded. Tonight was…really nice…. And it was good to finally get some of that stuff off my chest too.”
“Like I’ve been saying for years now, you ought to talk to someone, Kid,” Plagg sighed, moving up to perch on Adrien’s chest. “It’s not good for you to hold everything in until you fall to pieces like that. You should talk to your friends.”
Adrien averted his eyes.
“I know you don’t think they’d understand and you’re afraid it would make everything awkward,” Plagg conceded in a weary huff, “but I don’t think you’re giving them enough credit. They love you, and they would be sick if they knew you were in such bad shape mentally.”
“Yeah,” Adrien whispered, imagining how distraught Nino, Alya, and Marinette would be if they only knew how bad things were behind Adrien’s perpetual smiles and cheery disposition. “I don’t know, Plagg. I don’t want to mess things up and lose the few friends I have.”
“Kid, you won’t,” Plagg rebutted for what was probably the thirtieth time. “Nino would never cut you loose like that.”
Adrien made an indefinite noise and repeated, “I don’t know, Plagg.”
Plagg pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes in frustration. Sometimes he just wanted to shake his chosen and make him wake up and see how precious he was to his friends.
“…Are you at least thinking about what Ladybug said?” Plagg prompted with far more gentleness than usual.
Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “…About talking to Marinette?”
Plagg nodded, staring down his holder expectantly.
Adrien heaved a deep sigh. “I know that Marinette would be compassionate and try her hardest to understand what I was saying and help in any way she could just like Ladybug did tonight, but…”
Plagg intensified his gaze. “‘But’ nothing. There’s no downside to talking to her.”
Adrien cringed. “Other than the fact that admitting you have mental health issues doesn’t necessarily make you an attractive prospect as a romantic partner,” he grumbled. “I’ve already admitted to one girl I like that I’m a train wreck; I don’t necessarily want to come clean to the other one too. I mean, I know nothing is ever going to happen with Ladybug, so I didn’t have anything to lose there, but there are times when I genuinely think that maybe I have a chance with Marinette, and I’d really rather not mess things up with her preemptively.”
Plagg took a deep breath, attempting to rein in his ire. “…Do you really think so little of yourself that you’re able to write yourself off entirely based on one perceived defect?”
Adrien’s gaze narrowed as his eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I…don’t understand.”
Plagg shook his head, his expression dripping with exhaustion. “Kid, your struggles with mental health don’t define you, and they don’t detract from all the amazing things about you that would make you a wonderful romantic partner…but you don’t see that at all, do you?”
Slowly, Adrien shook his head. “…I’m glad you think I have redeeming qualities, though…. Thanks, Plagg.”
He reached up and gently began to scratch behind the kwami’s ear.
Plagg gave a full-body shudder of pleasure, enjoying the attention for nearly half a minute before flying in to give Adrien’s cheek a fortifying nuzzle. “There’s a lot to love about you. I don’t pick losers to be my holders.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would,” Adrien chuckled, his morose mood lifting incrementally. “…Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Plagg snorted. “Now, as payment for my magnanimity, I demand—”
Plagg clicked his tongue. “No, but if you’re offering, I’m not going to protest…. No. As payment, I demand that you think about talking to Marinette. In earnest,” he stressed, suddenly without a hint of humor.
Adrien’s eyes widened at Plagg’s unexpectedly serious demeanor.
“Do you promise to think about it?” Plagg pressed.
Slowly, Adrien began to nod. “Okay. I’ll think about it, Plagg. I promise.”
Plagg nodded, satisfied. “All right. Good.” He flew in again to give Adrien’s cheek an affectionate lick and then resumed a more standard distance to look Adrien intently in the eyes. “My holders typically have an affinity for destruction. That’s not a bad thing. It takes tremendous strength and control to systematically tear things down, clear it all away, and start over from scratch. Destruction makes way for creation, new beginnings.”
Adrien frowned once more as he struggled to follow Plagg’s train of thought. “Oookay? …I’m not sure what you mean.”
“What I’m saying is, a little bit of destruction can be good. It creates room for growth…but don’t turn your power in on yourself, Kid,” Plagg softly entreated, warmth radiating in his voice. “Not the whole package, anyway. There are pieces of yourself you could stand to lose, but you don’t need to scrap the whole thing. Like I said, there’s plenty about you to love that’s good as is. Stop selling yourself short…and talk to Marinette,” he stressed. “If she can’t love you the way you are, she was never worth your time in the first place…but I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised if you give her a chance to prove herself.”
“…I’ll think about it,” Adrien reiterated, actually meaning it this time.
“Good,” Plagg decreed, heading over to the minifridge for his post-patrol meal. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am officially off duty. I think I’ve expended this year’s allotment of empathy and compassion in one sitting. Don’t ask me to be helpful again for at least twelve months.”
Adrien let out a snort of laughter, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at his kwami’s aloof charade. “Sure thing, Plagg.”
“I’m serious,” the little deity insisted. “Next existential crisis, you’re on your own because I am spent.”
With a fond smile curling up the corners of his lips, Adrien pushed himself up and started getting ready for bed.
Update Schedule for Lila Fake-Dating/Emotional Blackmail Adrienette
If you could pick two days of the week for me to update my Lila emotionally blackmailing Adrien into fake-dating her in order to keep her from spreading rumors about Marinette and ruining her life Adrienette story (I have GOT to title this thing), what two days would be most convenient?
Would it be too much if I updated every other day? Is that crazy? Is that updating too often?
Should I update three times a week? What three days would be best?
Should I just pick one day like a sane person? ^.^;
Help me.
Thanks in advance for your help, guys!
...I think I’m going to call it “Betting Against the House”.
