Chat sped through the school, very conscious of the little kwami hiding away in his suit's pocket. The ladybug kwami. Marinette's kwami. He was still kinda freaking out with this reveal, the the pressure of this situation wasn't help.
Marinette was an akuma.
Marinette who was his Ladybug was an akuma.
What were they even going to do about this?
What could be done?
Could anything be done?
Could, could he even do anything?
And, and… Marinette was Ladybug, this whole time, she was Ladybug, and he was such an idiot she was right behind him the whole time and he tried to set her up with his best friend-
"There!" Tikki called out, making Chat stop, turning to see where she pointed, where a janitor was gathering something up from the floor. He rushed over, rushing out an apology as he dropped down beside the janitor, startling him.
Chat plucked up the largest chunk, the upper torso of Ladybug, her head lolling about, one arm still attached to her.
He stared at it. Then to the remains scattered to the floor, some tossed to the trash bin beside him.
Tikki calculated that it was just the week of stress and solitude that brought this.
And this was the last straw, something to do with the dolls.
The Ladybug doll torn up.
There was Chat Noir doll's missing bell, and there was a split black paint pail.
This was the final catalyst.
This is what caused her.
And Chat now knew it was only the Chat Noir doll he was dealing with.
And, and that cat plush he had.
It left him wondering though.
Who would do this?
Especially to his Lady?
When he turned to Tikki, to ask her, he found a knowing, grim look on her face.
The little kwami had her suspicions.
The air was filled with a loud, rumbling purr; a sound Amour was relishing it. Just as always, like when she was settled in her bed, Ches laid curled up around her, beaming as he watched the princess draw. Amour sat with a content smile, the pencil gliding along the paper, shaping a future creation through the charcoal point. Chevalier leaned on her, watching her work, enjoying her warmth and presence.
It was perfect.
She was happy.
He was with her.
Nothing could ruin this.
He gave a start when his Princess held the drawing up, a fancy hat he didn't know the name of. But he liked it. "Would you like to wear that?" she asked Chevalier.
"I would wear anything you'd make," he promised her.
"Let's see if I have what I need then," she bid, getting up and moving around Ches, patting the large cat's pink nose. Ches wrinkled it, blinking rapidly from the touch.
Chevalier leaned against the large cat, sighing contently.
"The deal, Chevalier."
Chevalier's eyes snapped open. He straightened up, ears perked up. He sharply turned to Amour, checking on her. She was scuffling about easily, unbothered. Ignoring Ches' sharp gaze, Chevalier got up and drew towards the shadows, walking past the dancing flowers, ignoring how they watched him go.
When he was sure he was far away enough, he hissed, "You dare-"
His arm jerked up, a burning sensation going through him, his claws covering right over the silver scar.
Chevalier felt cold, eyes locked on the claws inches from the pale mark on his chest.
"She is happy now, Chevalier," Hawk Moth reasoned. "She's meeting her side of the bargain. I want mine. I want the miraculouses."
Chevalier grimaced. "I'll bring you the ring," Chevalier promised, the strange sensation dropped, and Chevalier quickly moved his claws away.
"And the earrings."
Chevalier didn't answer, turning to look back.
His Princess returned to Ches' side, materials dropped around her, beaming as she started to create and build. All the while Ches watched with eager wonder. When Ches' large claws reached for one shiny piece, he jerked back when Princess swatted his paw away.
Chevalier's mind flew on what to do.
She wouldn't like this.
She wouldn't like this at all.
She'd tell him no.
She wouldn't want this.
She'd want him to stay, but the deal, the risks to not keeping his part of the bargain... he might as well rip himself if he didn't keep it.
Chevalier didn't want that.
He wanted to stay with her.
But she wouldn't like this.
...He couldn't lie to her. She hated liars. A liar hurt her a long time ago. A boy Chevalier didn't know, a boy he never met. Most he saw was a picture she kept of him, a boy she knew when she was little. He was taller than her, with pale hair and eyes, and a frown that seemed set on his face.
Despite the hurt he caused her, she has yet to get rid of that picture of him.
But because of him, lying hurt. Chevalier couldn't lie to her. He never would.
"Done!"
He looked up, just in time to see his Princess hop up and rush to, the fancy hat in hand. His head bent forward, the grin easily stretching his lips. The hat set perfectly on his head, and she withdrew a few steps, eyeing him, beaming. "You look amazing," she approved.
"It was made by you," he flattered, going to a near pool, looking down to eye his reflection. It was a perfect hat for him, whatever it's name was.
When her hands reached for his chin, he went along with her guidance, turning back to her, letting her look over his hat. "A pigeon feather would do well to add to it," she murmured. Then gave a frightful start. "Your allergic to feath-"
"I'm not allergic to feathers," he cut in, reminding her.
She blinked at him, looking to him.
He removed the hat, showing off the dark locks that covered the blond head of hair he should have instead. He didn't like having that heavy substance on him, but it did offer a different look for him and his… inspiration.
Sadly it didn't seem to do too much for her in seeing the difference between them. Him and his inspiration.
By the look on her face, she realized it too, an apologetic grimace on her face.
He reached for the hood she persisted to keep on her head. Gently, he pushed it down. "You don't have to wear it up," he gently told her. She was loved here. He loved her. Ches loved her. They wouldn't hurt her. She didn't need to hide away anymore.
But her hands moved back to grab the hood, pull it back up, but his claws stopped her, gently holding her hands, noting how they shook.
He gave her hand a gently squeeze. "I'll go get you a feather," he promised. She shuffled before him. "It needs a feather, right?" he asked. She gave a shy nod. He leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. "I'll bring you back a feather," he promised, "the best feather I can find."
And get a certain Butterfly a ring.
This… this didn't count as lying… did it?
Chevalier didn't pursue that thought.
So far, I like to hc that the liar from Marinette's past could be Felix, who technically is in the ML concept, putting on a guise to appeal to Ladybug for a personal intent. An understandable one with him wanting to remove a curse, but still dishonest in his approach.
Something I'll probably do a story for sometime. I have the idea there.
