peppermint_shamrock

Ladybug seemed to have decided that the beeping and flashing light meant that the environmental suit was harming him, as she kept making motions as though to try to take it off of him, only stopping at Adrien’s frantic protests as he waved her away. And while she wasn’t entirely incorrect in that assumption, that was the last thing he wanted to happen right now, even if the thought of her insistence on undressing him sent his mind to places he was sure it wasn’t supposed to be going.

They really should have come up with a contingency plan for accidental discovery, but unfortunately the only one they had was don’t. Which was not at all helpful at the moment, and really, wasn’t it inevitable that something was going to go wrong the longer they stayed here?

Or maybe he was just an idiot trying to make excuses for himself. There was a pretty compelling case for that, too.

But Chat Noir understood all of it. He lived it alongside her, fought alongside her, and supported her through it all, as she supported him. They had been through experiences – terrible and wonderful and horrifying and exhilarating and always life-changing – that no one else could claim, and they had been through them together. And that kind of thing forged an incomparable bond of love and trust, the kind that stories only associated with the deepest, truest of romantic feelings.

“I think we could,” Adrien said, his voice low but firm, and in his eyes Marinette could see that he truly believed that. Everyone needs something to believe in. “We just need to find them, and we can show how much they mean to the people; how much everyone needs them.”

“Find them?” Marinette echoed, barely suppressing a scoff. “That’s what Papillon has been trying to do this entire time, and how much luck has he had with that?”

“He’s not us. He’s not you. If anyone could do it…well, I’ve…always thought that you could do anything, Marinette.”

“So who will join me?” Marinette asks, her head held high. No one answers, and she continues. “I will go, whether alone or not, and I will pursue this beast. If I cannot capture it, I swear I will at least drive it far away,” she vows.

No matter what words are said to her, she holds firm in her decision, and eventually it is accepted with great reluctance. But what other choice do they have? Something must be done, and even if it means sacrificing their beloved huntress, she goes willingly.

She will leave tomorrow, it is decided. And she will drive the beast away if she cannot kill it. Many do not expect her return.

Fu is not so pessimistic, but still he wishes to speak with her before she leaves.

The girl continued to stare at him for a moment too long, emotions shifting across her face until they settled into determination. She purposefully strode forward towards him, and as she passed through the desk as though it wasn’t even there, Adrien realized that the situation was even stranger than it had first appeared.

She came to a stop right in front of him, and now Adrien could see that she was not entirely solid, the faint, distorted impression of the world behind her visible in the traces of her skin and hair and eyes and clothes.

“That’s why,” the girl said, far too calmly. She examined him curiously, before her eyes softened. “You’re actually the first person who can. I wonder why…?”

And then they waited. Adrien heard the two giggle a few times, and wondered if it wasn’t more likely that Alya and Nino would spoil their own prank.

But he didn’t have long to wait before Marinette came skidding into the alley, dressed in an unusually dark jacket that was slightly undermined by the bright pink oven mitts she was also wearing, as well as the rather conspicuous shovel and rolls of fabric carried awkwardly under her arm.

Adrien froze for a moment, trying to process just what kind of help Marinette intended.

She swept up beside him, twisting into his path and trapping him. He cried out as she brought him down, but they had already run far past where any help would come to him. Eagerly, she grasped her prey, holding him down so he could no longer escape her, matching his struggles easily as he squirmed and twisted against the pavement.

He twisted around, his face becoming visible, his eyes wide, frantic, desperate, terrified…

At once, Marinette snapped back to herself, frozen in place as her own eyes widened.

“There are many things that it could be,” Master Fu says, and the appraising look in his eyes gives Marinette hope. But he offers no answer of his own. “But I suspect that the important solution is your own – no one else can give you the answer you’re looking for.”

“The…Papillon doll? What about it?”

“I…like I said, it sounds crazy, but when I pinched or squeezed the doll…M. Agreste reacted as though…it’d been done to him.”

Adrien blinked. “I’m sorry,” he said, “are you saying that Marinette – friendly, sweet, helpful, ordinary human Marinette Dupain-Cheng – has been making actual, working voodoo dolls? How…?”

“I don’t know!” Ladybug said, sounding slightly hysterical. “It’s crazy but I can’t think of any other reason for what I saw. And if you consider just how many dolls are out there, now…it’s a wonder that M. Agreste hasn’t collapsed before this!”

Adrien stood there in silence for a few moments, trying to reconcile his conception of his kind-hearted classmate and friend with the idea of the kind of dark enchantress who could create such devices – the result was strangely appealing – before he processed just what those dolls were supposed to represent, and he started to feel nauseous.