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Ladybug is unattainable. Ethereal. God-like. More than.
Just as the sun rises from the east, that is a simple truth of Adrien’s life. Ladybug has always been above him. She is the leader, the strategist, the muscle. She is the one Master Fu trusts, the one he has taken on as an apprentice.
Chat Noir needs Ladybug. Ladybug doesn’t need Chat Noir.
Sure, Ladybug claims that he balanced her out, that he calms her when things becomes too much, that he is her lifeline, her refuge, her safe harbor. But that is all he is.
A therapy cat.
Maybe without him, Ladybug wouldn’t be as fast, as efficient. But she would still get the job done.
Some days, Adrien could swear that Ladybug is older than she looks. He isn’t sure why. Perhaps it’s the faraway look in her eyes, on calm patrols when she thinks he isn’t looking. Perhaps it has something to do with her unsurpassed skills, how steady she is even in the face of defeat. Or perhaps it’s her experience—how she never causes more collateral damage than is strictly necessary, even with the Miraculous Cure; her ability to traverse burning buildings and collapsed mansions, something Adrien has no idea how to do; how she fights and moves like she was born and trained for this.
Maybe it’s something Master Fu taught her. Maybe she’s his hand-raised protégé, while Adrien’s a random stray picked off the street. It’d explain why she’s clearly his favorite, while Adrien always comes as a second thought.
Still, Adrien loves her. It’s just a kitten crush, probably, or a celebrity crush. But Adrien can’t help but hope…
He’s watched too much anime. Crushes and unrequited love stay that way, more often than not. People don’t usually get together with their first crush, and even if they do, the relationship rarely lasts.
He should be happy with what he gets. Being Ladybug’s therapy cat and listening ear is an important job, even if he wishes he can do more to help.
Some days, he feels like Ladybug’s the main character and he’s one of those healing talismans players wear in video games.
Ladybug values him. It’s as good as he’ll ever get.
Happy endings don’t exist in real life.
But why can’t his heart accept that…?
Oh well. Father always says he’s too emotional.
So, Adrien will do his best to support Ladybug from the sidelines. She directs him to evacuate the citizens more often than not, and he does it to the best of his ability. He knows how to smile charmingly, how to placate frustrated and upset people—some of the things working as a model has taught him. He has less experience calming down children, but he finds he’s surprisingly good at it.
Less often, Ladybug needs him for a plan. Those fights are Adrien’s favorites. They make him feel useful, feel valued, feel less like the dead weight he knows he is. He performs his part to the best of his ability, but it is always Ladybug who ultimately takes down the akuma. He is glad for that, of course; it is their job to take down akumas. Still, some selfish part of him wishes he could contribute more to the fight.
Sometimes, though…sometimes Ladybug is distracted by collapsing buildings or rescuing people, and the akumas take the opening to target her.
The akumas never quite manage to hit her. Ladybug always dodges at the last moment; of course she does—she’s Ladybug! Still, every near miss makes Adrien’s heart skip. Ladybug is fundamental to taking down akumas; she is the one who comes up with and executes plans, the hero needed to purify akuma, the only person who can perform the Miraculous Cure.
Without her, Adrien will never be able to defeat akumas by himself, let alone purify them and restore Paris to its original glory.
Ladybug is important. Adrien…is not.
The first time a white bolt of light flies towards Ladybug, Adrien doesn’t hesitate. He knows if the light hits Ladybug, it’d game over—not only for them, but for the entire Paris.
Chat Noir is expendable. Ladybug is not.
Adrien’s body moves on its own. He throws himself between the shot and Ladybug. The light hits him, and then his vision goes black. Behind him, Ladybug, turning to dodge, takes on a horrified expression.
The next thing he knows, the fight is over, and Ladybug is hugging him. A swarm of ladybugs wash over them, signifying her prior use of Miraculous Ladybug.
“Don’t you dare do that again, Chaton.” Ladybug hisses fiercely under her breath, her head buried into his chest. “I could’ve dodged.”
Maybe she could have if she’s lucky. Adrien doesn’t dare take that chance with Paris’s only hope.
And so, Adrien throws himself into danger, sacrificing himself again and again. Some days, the sacrifice hurts, lighting his nerves on fire and making him want to scream. Some nights, he dreams of falling forever, of dissipating into nothingness, his Lady’s cry echoing in his ears.
He doesn’t let it deter him.
For Ladybug, he’ll give his life.
There is an akuma, like there often is. This one can create vortexes, pools of whirling inkiness that sucks everything in its path.
The aptly named Whirlpool wrecks disaster downtown. Before Ladybug even gets on the scene, they have already sucked in a large slab of pavement.
Chat Noir is already on the scene, directing civilians to evacuate. Marinette spares a moment to be proud of him; he has come so far as a hero, even with such little training.
She jumps into the fight.
In the periphery of her vision, a girl loses her footing and begins to be pulled into a vortex. But before the girl can even cry out, Chat Noir grabs her with one hand, and anchors himself to the pavement with the claws on his other hand.
He crawls away from the tug of the vortex, and sets the girl back down when they are safe. Noticing Ladybug, Chat winks to her, and then jumps back in to help the civilians.
Ladybug puts Chat Noir to the back of her mind for now; they each have their jobs, and her partner can take care of himself. There isn’t any point in distracting herself by worrying about him.
And then, somehow, Chat is caught in the pull of a vortex.
A sharp jab of pain in her head—Danger Sense—alerts her to the falling boy. Ladybug directs a strand of Black Whip to pull him out, but she is distracted by a bus falling into another vortex on the opposite side of the road. She shoots a second rope of Black Whip out to intercept the bus, One For All straining against the might of the vortex.
“Ladybug!” Chat Noir shouts over deafening rush of inky water. “Let me go! The akuma’s getting away!”
Marinette opens her mouth to protest, but a glance shows her Chat is right, damnit. The akuma is bored of wrecking destruction here, and is moving to another part of town.
“Don’t worry, Ladybug.” Chaton smiles, the idiot. “I’ll see you later.”
He lets go of the Black Whip she had wrapped around his hand. Before she can extend the black appendage to rescue him, a scream distracts her and forces her to pull a flying car to safety.
By the time she glances back at the black hole-like whirlpool, Chat Noir is long gone.
Ladybug curses. That stupid, idiot of a kitten—
She inhales sharply, forcing herself to focus. Downtown is in ruins, but no one is in immediate danger of falling into a vortex right now. The akuma is moving to another part of town; Ladybug might intercept them before they reach their destination.
There’ll be a time and place to yell at her idiot Chaton later.
For now, she has an akuma to defeat.
Marinette will never get tired of the soothing sensation of ladybugs washing over her.
It erases all her bruises from the fight, like a version of Recovery Girl’s quirk with less fatigue. She loves seeing the broken pavement restored, people she failed to save coming back to life with relief in their eyes. It’s a promise that even if she fails, her failure won’t be permanent.
Because despite all her power, and Chat Noir’s help, Ladybug is still only a single person. There is no system of coordination in this universe, no protocol of heroes-police-paramedics arriving on the scene. And as much as she tries, Ladybug cannot be everywhere to save everyone at once.
Today, the ladybugs swarm into a humanoid shape in front of Ladybug, dissipating to reveal her leather-clad partner.
Chat Noir lights up at the sight of her, “My Lady! I knew you could—”
“I,” Ladybug interrupts, “am very disappointed in you.”
Chaton’s face falls, and Ladybug almost regrets her words. Almost. “You needed to—”
“No! You didn’t!” Ladybug snaps, harsher than she meant to. “I would’ve pulled you out. Whirlpool might’ve gotten away a bit further, but we could’ve taken them on together!”
“It doesn’t matter.” Chat Noir smiles flippantly, but Ladybug can tell from his flickering ears that he’s upset at her admonishment. “I knew you will bring me back.”
“That—that isn’t the point!” Ladybug says sharply. This had to be traumatic for him; the Miraculous Cure can’t erase memories of dying or being trapped or whatever the akuma has in store! Thanks to Danger Sense, she has never been hit with one of those deadly moves, but she can imagine what it must feel like to be destroyed without a trace.
She has died once, after all.
Dear kwamis. Is this what Aizawa-sensei went through when he tried to curb her self-destructive tendencies?
Kami. She can see why he called her Problem Child now.
Chat Noir’s tail twitches. “The akuma is more important. You needed to stop the vortexes at the source, so less people would get sucked in.”
“Rescue comes first.” Ladybug recites; the first rule drilled into her head by UA. “Heroes may not be able to save everyone, but they have to try. That includes you, Chaton.”
She doesn’t expect much to come out of this conversation; they have a different version of this talk every time Chat Noir decides to sacrifice himself for the fight.
But, well. She can hope.
Chaton wrinkles his nose. “Of course, my Lady. I promise I won’t do this again.”
He’s lying.
The next time Ladybug is nearly hit by an akuma again, Chat Noir throws himself in the way once more. Ladybug lectures him. Chaton smiles and assures her he’ll never do this again; he promises. He isn’t lying this time.
But then it happens again. And again. And again.
Still, Chat Noir refuses to prioritize his own safety.
Marinette’s heart clenches at the thought of her self-sacrificing partner. She has tried everything to curb his self-destructive tendencies, short of tying him to a chair and refusing to let him fight; not that it’ll stop him. From her own experience, she knows he’d just Cataclysm his way out of the chair and jump right back into the fight. What else can she do?
Is this karma for what she put Aizawa-sensei through?