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“OH FUCK LADYBUG PLEASE DON’T BE DEAD PLEASE DON’T BE DEAD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT YOU”
Ladybug blinks, groans, rolls a little. This… weird. She’s never heard Chat Noir swear before.
“Oh thank fuck you’re moving you’re alive I love you so much gotta kiss wait no don’t bad Chat she doesn’t want that”
He sounds… manic. Is he okay? Did he get hit?
She rolls onto her belly and pushes herself up. “Hey, Kitty,” she says. “I’m oka—”
She’s overwhelmed by a rush of… relief. Desperate relief, tinged with an altogether different kind of anxiety, one completely unlike hers.
Her arms give out in surprise, she feels his panic as he moves in to catch her, and she realizes she hasn’t been hearing him speak.
“Ladybug!” he shrieks, and she hears/feels an undercurrent of no no no please be okay I need you and she can literally feel his need. Not just his—there’s a whole street full of people who are looking at her in panic and desperation, and she’s almost drowned in the wave of despair from the crowd as they realize she’s gone down.
Did Ladybug just/god did she die/What happens if she doesn’t/always gets up, she’ll be fine, she’ll be/please, My Lady, please be/always knew she wasn’t good enough/IT’S HEADING TOWARD MARINETTE I HAVE TO
Ladybug smashes her palms against her temples, closes her eyes, and screams.
Get out of my head!
The babbling stops for a moment, replaced by the collective shock of dozens of people that isn’t staying in their bodies, it’s squeezing her ribcage, and she’s clear-headed enough for one second to crush Chat Noir’s wrist wishing her fingers and growl, “Rooftop!”
She feels his determination rebound off her own, and within seconds, she’s free of the crowd, all their thoughts and emotions ebbing from her consciousness as they gain distance, until the only voice left in her head is her partner’s. Get Ladybug to safety what even happened to her what did that Akuma do it’s heading toward Marinette have to stop it before it gets if it touches her no there’s a person inside doesn’t matter have to protect
“Chat,” Ladybug snaps. “Stop thinking.” She softens her voice. “Please.”
She feels his shock at her abruptness, but to her surprise he doesn’t even hesitate to attempt to do what she’s asked. And for a precious, precious second, her mind clears.
Then everything tastes—feels—sweet and warm and loving, and to her surprise, she can see her own face in Chat’s mind… but it’s not Ladybug. There’s no mask.
Chat Noir is thinking about Marinette and going absolutely mushy over her.
Akuma’s going in her direction hope she’s okay need to protect can’t leave Ladybug alone but Marinette but Ladybug gotta not think think about nothing Marinette’s so pretty think about nothing wonder what kissing her would be like
She sucks in a breath as she’s bombarded with intrusive thoughts that Chat seems to not even be aware that he’s having, thoughts about her alter-ego that she didn’t realize he even knew well enough for… well, this.
Don’t think about Marinette like that she’s a friend you love Ladybug Ladybug’s amazing wanna kiss her wonder if Marinette would kiss me wait no Ladybug but Marinette’s so agh Adrien get your mind out of the gutter stop thinking!
Ladybug blinks. “Adrien?” she gasps, unable to stop the name from escaping her mouth.
Chat’s face snaps around to her, and she doesn’t need to be able to read his emotions to see the panic on his face but she can read it anyway. “My Lady?” he says. “Who’s Adrien?” She knows she knows oh shit what gave it away how did she what did I oh crap I fucked up she’ll never love me now
“The Akuma,” Ladybug starts, then gasps as Chat’s panic cuts into her head like fire. “It grants… telepathy. I can’t turn it off.”
“Telepathy?” Chat says. “So like you can read my—” His jaw clamps shut and his eyes widen. Oh shit don’t think about and she suddenly gets an image of him wrapped up in her yo-yo string in a manner that NOPE NOPE NOT GOING THERE.
She flushes harder than she ever has in her life. “You—you—you want me to—to do that to you?” she stammers.
“Oh Kwamis,” he gasps, holding up his hands like a barrier between them as if it’ll block her out. “Ladybug, I’m so sorry, I don’t know where that came from!” Which is a lie, she can feel it’s a lie, it’s a familiar fantasy to him and one he’s revisited quite frequently, but calling him out on that won’t help anything right now. “Hang on, I’ll—I’ll think of something else, give me a—”
“Chat,” she interrupts, placing a hand on his cheek, and wow, she can feel his heart skip a beat as if it’s hers—had no idea she has this much effect on him. He’s talked about being in love with her before, but… if the way he feels about her is this intense? “Relax. I’m not going to judge you for the things you think.”
His expression barely changes, but she can feel him collapse in relief on the inside. Honestly, if she were feeling what he is right now, she’d be crying. Is this how it always is?
“Listen,” she says. “I need you…” She grinds her teeth. “I need you to think about something calming. Something that makes you feel safe.” She tilts her head a little bit and smiles at him, lets him know that things are all right. “Okay?”
Chat swallows. “Okay,” he says, and closes his eyes.
She sees, through his mind’s eye, a woman. Familiar. Her eyes are a brilliant green in her soft and pointed face, framed by blonde hair the same color as Chat’s own. She’s laughing, she’s smiling, she’s hugging her son after a successful… something—maybe a play?—saying how proud she is, and everything’s all right. There’s love in her face and love in Chat’s heart, and everything’s all right.
Ladybug has half a second to remember that Chat’s mother is dead before his grief stabs her through the chest. She collapses to the ground, gasping.
“My Lady!” Chat yelps with a bolt of panic, which is not helping, and he reaches down to grab her but—
Think about someone else, she hears him tell himself.
He’s standing a place that is uncannily familiar. It’s not quite her bedroom and not quite her classroom, but rather a mix of both. Chat is sitting, out of costume (she can’t see his face—she’s looking through his perspective) at a desk, and Marinette walks into the room holding a box.
“Eat, Adrien,” the Marinette-memory says, opening the box and handing him a muffin. “You’ll feel better.”
Chat turns, and there’s another Memorinette sitting next to him, smirking with a game controller in her hand. “Two out of three?”
Chat’s heart swells at the challenge. “I’ll get you this time.”
“I made your favorite,” a Memorinette in a bun and apron says, holding up a tray of macarons. They’re at the movie premiere, and Chat feels uncomfortable with all the extra attention he’s getting, but with one gesture from a friend everything’s better.
They’re on the steps outside of school now, comfortable, and Memorinette has her hand in theirs in a way that would have made the real Marinette flail in panic. Neither one of them is saying anything, and then suddenly it’s raining, and they’re standing, and Chat is holding out an umbrella and Ladybug knows this moment.
“I’ve never been to school before,” she feels herself say in Chat’s voice, with Chat’s mouth, speaking to the Memorinette. “I’ve never had friends. It’s all sort of new to me.” He’s terrified, because for the first time in his life this person’s opinion means something more than his father’s approval, his father’s company, and he’s screwed it up. Life isn’t like TV—things that aren’t perfect can’t be fixed. He has to be perfect.
Ladybug reaches out and takes the umbrella from his hand.
“I never wanted you to be perfect, Adrien,” Ladybug says. “All I ever needed from you was to be exactly who you are.”
Chat’s breath catches, and they’re back on the rooftop—he’s staring at her, and the hope swelling in his chest is pressing onto her—
She hears the Akuma coming, through Chat’s ears, before either of them sees it. She feels his impulse fire, the obsessive need to protect her, to dive between them. But she’s already been hit once.
She hooks her leg around his waist and spins against him like a pole dancer, the blast splashing harmlessly against her back. Shes got control of her own mind now, and she realizes she can feel the Akuma too; she doesn’t even need to look to trap the villain in her yo-yo string.
“The bracelet,” she tells Chat, because she can see it clearly in the Akuma’s mind, and he leaps to break it. Within moments, the butterfly is white again, and her thoughts are once again her own.
She reaches down to comfort the victim, then turns to Chat. “Meet me at the bakery in fifteen,” she says, knowing he knows exactly which one.
***
Chat arrives with a flourish, and she smiles. Always a showoff, her kitty. “So,” she says, sitting on the edge of the balcony with her legs kicking out into the street. “You’re in love with the girl who lives here.”
Chat leans against the railing. “Why does everyone keep saying that?” he says with a frown. “Marinette’s just a friend.”
He believes that, she knows. But now she also knows that just because he believes it doesn’t mean it’s true—his denial is obvious. She climbs to her feet, pokes him in the forehead. “I was in your head, Chaton,” she says. “When I asked you to think of something that made you feel safe…”
He sighs. “I’m not, though,” he says. He looks at her, and he looks like he’s trying not to cry. “I’m… you know how I feel.” About you, he doesn’t say, but she knows he wants to.
“Adrien,” she says. “Adrien Agreste.”
Chat starts at the sound of his name.
She smiles. “We’re not mutually exclusive.” She takes his hand. “You can be in love with two people.”
He frowns, bites his lip. “But…” he whispers. “I can’t… I don’t want…” He’s tearing up now. “I can’t betray you.”
“I thought the same about Adrien,” Ladybug says softly, staring down at his hand. “Isn’t that funny?”
“Funny?” Chat echoes, confused.
Ladybug meets his eyes. “I kept the umbrella, you know,” she says. “Spots off.”
Chat stares at her, dumbfounded, as one girl he loves reveals herself to be the other as well. Marinette raises his hand to her lips. “Adrien,” she says. “My brave Knight.”
Chat goes beet red and swallows. “Ma-Marinette?” he says.
She pulls away, reaches for the trapdoor. “Come inside, Kitty,” she says. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”