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It just happens one day, a few months after she gets the miraculous, after she falls for Adrien. She just wakes up to writing on her thigh, like it’s supposed to be there.
She’s half-asleep (Marinette is not a morning person) and almost washes it off in the shower before she panics and turns the water off to read it. This is important! How was she almost going to wash it off?
It’s a little blurry now, thanks to the water, but she hasn’t washed it off quite yet; she can still make out the words.
It’s a whole paragraph, too.
“Good morning! I hope you don’t mind where I wrote. My father doesn’t like it when I write on my skin, so I thought I’d put it somewhere easy to hide.”
Her soulmate.
She has a soulmate.
She screams
It was a risk, writing on his leg – but it’s somewhere his father won’t see. Less of a risk than anywhere else.
He never thought much about his soulmate before – never let himself think about his soulmate before.
His father honestly wouldn’t care whether his soulmate were a girl or a guy. It’s not that. It’s that he has high standards, and he would never let Adrien date someone he didn’t approve of. And there’s really no one he approves of. He doesn’t even want Adrien to date Chloé (Adrien would never date Chloé anyway; they’re just friends).
But that was before he met her.
Ladybug is his soulmate.
He’s sure of it.
And then just yesterday, he found a note on his arm. It was half of a math problem; he read it before he washed it off.
Now he just has to convince her to trust him enough to share their real identities.
Both behind the mask and with his writing.
She whispers it desperately to Alya in class.
Alya’s investigative nature can be a pain when it comes to Ladybug and Chat Noir, but for this – Marinette can’t imagine anyone better for the job.
Alya listens as Marinette explains what happened that morning. It takes a minute – she can only talk when Mlle Bustier’s back is turned. This is not something she wants to have to tell the whole class.
“Do you think it might be Adrien?” Alysa asks.
“I don’t know. It didn’t say anything specific.”
“Just draw on your hand right now. We can see his hand.”
No way! Marinette shakes her head and whispers fiercely, “I can’t do that! I can’t let the entire class know!”
“Why not?”
“If it is him, I don’t want to put him on the spot like that!”
Alya evidently doesn’t think Marinette’s idea is that solid, but Marinette doesn’t care.
She knows she’s right.
Besides, what would Chloé do if she found out Marinette was Adrien’s soulmate in front of everyone?
No; Marinette has to be smart about this.
She has to make a plan.
Alya agrees to help, even though she says again that she thinks the direct approach is best.
Marinette gladly accepts her help.
As Chat Noir, Adrien feels free for the first time in his life. He can do as he pleases. He doesn’t have to worry about his reputation, or his father, or even how he looks. He can be himself; the himself he’s always wanted to be.
It’s exhilarating.
And no matter what she says, Ladybug likes him – even if it’s just as friends.
He’ll win her over eventually.
They’re soulmates.
He asks her one day, during a patrol. “Have you met your soulmate yet, my Lady?”
She freezes. “I’m not sure that’s appropriate.”
Right. Her no personal talk rule. “I’m not asking who they are,” he lies. “I’m asking if you’ve met them.”
She hesitates, then says, “Not yet.”
“Me, either.” He grins. “Maybe we’re soulmates, my Lady.”
She laughs, but it’s not cruel. She’s not cruel. She just thinks he’s joking. (He isn’t.)
“I don’t think so, Chaton.”
“Why not?”
“We don’t even know who we both are outside of these costumes. How would that work?”
“We’d tell each other our identities.”
“You know that’s not safe.”
Even though she has a point, he wants it so badly. “Shouldn’t we know, though? So we can help each other. Like if one of us isn’t able to get to an akuma attack – we could text each other.”
“No, Chaton. If one of us were to get captured… we can’t know. It would endanger everything.”
She’s not going to budge.
“If you’re sure,” he says.
“I am.” Then she softens. “After this is over – and we win – and we give the miraculous back to Master Fu. Maybe then.”
It’s not much, but it’s enough to make him hope. “I’ll be waiting.”
“Silly cat,” she says, rolling her eyes.
But she says it with love.
Chat Noir is ridiculous. Adrien is her soulmate, not him.
It’s not like she dislikes Chat Noir, or anything. He’s a good partner – an amazing partner. They work well together. As ridiculous as he is, he knows when to be serious. He’s loyal and protective; he’ll put himself at risk to keep her safe.
But soulmates?
No way.
Marinette’s soulmate is Adrien. They’re going to get married some day and adopt a hamster together and it’s going to be wonderful.
She just has to drop him some hints. Show him it’s her without telling him it’s her. And maybe that way she can coax him into telling her it’s him without telling her it’s him.
Then they’ll get to kiss and date and get married and have a hamster.
She starts making notes for her projects on her arms. There may be a lot of designers in Paris, but… if she wears one of those designs, then maybe…
Maybe he’ll figure it out.
Adrien knows enough about fashion to be able to tell, anyway.
Ladybug must be a designer. Adrien files it under miscellaneous Ladybug facts.
He can’t decide whether that’s perfect or tragic.
His father is angry about his arms at first, especially when it happens during shoots and it’s a pain to wash them off. When his father looks at the writing and sees the design notes, he hums and says, “Just tell them not to write on themselves when you’re at a shoot.”
“Sorry, Father,” he says.
“If this keeps happening…”
“It won’t.”
The weird thing is that he doesn’t even have to. He mentions it offhand to Nino in class, and then, before his next shoot, his arms are bare. The writing stops – but only when he’s at a shoot.
He’ll change after fencing lessons to find his arms covered in measurements and notes, but it never once appears again when he has to be in front of a camera.
Weird.
How could Ladybug know about this?
Does she know who he is?
If she does, then why wouldn’t she tell him? He can keep a secret. Especially for her.
But maybe two can play at this game.
She wakes up to “good meowning” on her thigh.
For a split second, she panics. Maybe Chat Noir was right. Maybe he’s her soulmate. Maybe she has it all wrong? After all, who else would write something like that?
She takes a few deep breaths.
Maybe Adrien just secretly likes terrible jokes.
Her soulmate has to be Adrien.
It just has to.
The cat puns keep coming, though. Always cat puns.
“I hope you’re feeling clawsome this meowning!”
“You’re not kitten me with these designs! They’re purrfect!”
(That one does actually make her blush. If it is Adrien – and it has to be – he really knows what he’s talking about.)
Against her better judgment, she starts to write her soulmate – Adrien – back. Respond to those awful puns.
Once, she gets as far as writing, “Are you sure you’re not”. Before she can write “Chat Noir”, she catches herself, and finishes it with “bad at jokes.”
Her soulmate responds “Catsolutely,” which doesn’t even really make sense, but it does make her laugh.
“You’re in a good mood, Chaton,” Ladybug says during their next patrol.
He sees no reason not to tell her. “My soulmate and I have been writing back and forth. They’re great!”
Ladybug stills. Does she know? “You have?”
“Yep! And between you and me, I think they like my clawsome jokes.”
“You… you actually tell your soulmate those awful jokes?”
“Of course. They can’t love me for just my pretty face.”
She doesn’t laugh, even though he knows she knows it’s a joke. She usually laughs at his jokes, even when they’re bad. It’s weird that she’s so quiet.
He keeps talking; he can’t help himself. “I really do have a pretty face under this mask. I think you’d like it, my Lady.”
“Is it as pretty as Adrien Agreste’s?”
Adrien Agreste? Is she a fan? He doesn’t know if that’ll make things easier or harder.
“I’ve been told there’s a certain resemblance,” he says, which is probably saying too much, but he really can’t stop.
“Stand here,” she says, taking him by the shoulders and moving him – oh. In front of an advertisement for his father’s latest designs – with his face, of course. His civilian face.
And then she’s staring at him, taking in his features.
It’s kind of uncomfortable, actually. Especially since he may have just outed himself.
“I don’t see it,” she says finally. “Besides, you’re nothing like him.”
Wait, what? Does she know him outside of their masks? “How do you know that?”
She freezes; eyes wide, cheeks pink. “Well – you know – he’s famous. He has all these billboards, and fan clubs and – it’s just – you know – he’s nothing like you.”
For a moment, she reminds him of Marinette, with her stuttering, but that’s a ridiculous thought. Marinette is just a friend. Besides, he’d know his Lady anywhere. He’d know if she were someone he knew.
He just would.
“But why do you say I’m nothing like him? You don’t know him.”
He wills her to protest, but instead, she says, “Everyone knows what he’s like. Nice. Quiet. He probably doesn’t even make stupid puns.”
If only she knew. “Do I detect a crush, my Lady?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! He’s a celebrity!”
“So are you.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
He hesitates. He’s trying not to give too much away, but… “What would you do if he was your soulmate? If you don’t like him.”
“I never said I didn’t like him. He seems nice.”
“So if he was your soulmate…”
“I’d date him, obviously. We’d probably get married someday. Maybe even with hamsters.”
Hamsters. “I like hamsters.”
“Chaton.”
“I’m just surprised.”
“Like I wouldn’t date my soulmate!”
He wants to ask if she would if she knew it was him. That he was Adrien.
But maybe just Adrien is enough.
He just needs to find her.
She can’t shake what Chat Noir said.
He’s been talking to his soulmate. He’s been making puns. Horrible cat puns.
(She doesn’t think about his Adrien comment, because he’s nothing like Adrien.)
Could Chat Noir actually be her soulmate instead?
She can’t shake the thought during their next battle.
It’s pouring down rain, and they’re still perfectly in sync. Like always. Because Chat Noir always has her back. Always.
He springs off of a tree and uses his cataclysm to destroy the akumatized object. She purifies it, then uses miraculous ladybug to make everything right again; heal everyone; get things back to the way they were before.
When Chat Noir comes in for a fist bump, she sees a bolt of lightning in the sky; the thunder follows almost immediately.
He does actually have a pretty face.
She’s never noticed before.
They’re soaking wet; he’s rushing away and telling her he’ll see her soon. It takes her a minute to gather her thoughts.
She gets home just in time to see the rainbow.
One one of his rare free afternoons, Marinette invites him over to play video games. He likes video games, and he likes Marinette. They’re friends; he likes playing with her.
It’s kind of weird; they get this thing where they’re perfectly in sync when they play. It doesn’t match up with how Marinette usually acts, but he likes it.
She meets him in the bakery and leads him up to her room after he says hello to her parents. Her parents don’t seem to mind at all that she’s bringing a boy they don’t know that well up to her room while they’re all the way down here.
But then again, her parents are nice, and Marinette is, for all of her stuttering and clumsiness, pretty responsible. She’s not boy crazy at all.
Her room is as cozy as he remembers, but what really catches his attention is the dress in the corner.
It’s a cocktail dress – beautiful and impeccably made. He’s sure it’s of her own design; everything she makes is.
But what gets him is that this is it.
This is the dress his soulmate has been planning.
Adrien knows enough to know that.
Which means that Marinette is his soulmate.
He’s not sure how to feel. He was so sure it was Ladybug. It had to be Ladybug.
So why is it Marinette?
He has to act normal.
He has to think this over. He has to make sense of it.
Marinette is his friend.
How is she his soulmate?
Marinette wakes up the next morning with another stupid cat pun.
Adrien left the day before without saying anything other than a cursory compliment about the dress.
It could be worse. Chat Noir is a good guy. He’s loyal and kind and, fine, he’s funny, too, even if his puns are awful. And he was right: he really does have a pretty face.
But her soulmate is supposed to be Adrien.
To make matters even worse, now she has no idea how to act around either of them.
(Okay, maybe she’s never really figured out how to interact with Adrien like a normal person, but Chat Noir? He’s just Chat Noir!)
If Chat Noir notices how weird she’s being, he doesn’t say anything.
The thing is, she knows he’ll be happy that it’s her.
But she can’t tell him. It would put all of Paris in danger.
She’ll have to wait until they defeat Hawk Moth. That’s fine. It’ll give her time to adjust.
Because she needs to adjust.
Chat Noir… her soulmate.
It’s just too weird.
He decides to stop by to see her. She’s his soulmate, and he’s going to try.
The problem is that she sometimes acts weird around Adrien, like she can barely talk to him. So maybe he’ll have better luck as Chat Noir.
Ladybug would kill him if she knew.
He still wishes it were Ladybug, which makes him feel guilty, because Marinette is great! She really is. He likes her.
He knows he should tell her as Adrien. She knows Adrien.
But… maybe the truth is that it’s easier to take rejection as Chat Noir.
He brings her flowers, which is stupid, but he feels weird showing up on her balcony both uninvited and empty-handed.
She’s outside when he swings by. He stays carefully on the railing.
“Mind if I join you?”
She – blushes? Weird. Does she know? How would she know?
“Sure,” she says. “Do you want some religieuses? They’re leftover from yesterday, so they might be a little stale.”
“I can never say no to pastries.”
He jumps down and sits next to her. She passes him the plate. He gives her the flowers.
She looks at them, puzzled. “What are these for?”
He shrugs. “Do you like them?”
“I do, but… you didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know,” he says.
“Are you feeling down, too?”
He says it. He’s not sure why. “I don’t think my soulmate can be Ladybug. I think it has to be someone else.”
Her eyes are as wide as saucers. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“What makes you say that?”
He eats a pastry to buy some time. “It’s a lot of little things that all add up.”
“Do you know who your soulmate is, then?”
“I think so. But… Ladybug is right. We’re superheroes. We can’t risk anyone knowing our identities.”
“You wouldn’t have to. Not if you told them as a civilian.”
“I couldn’t keep this from my soulmate,” he says softly.
And it’d be nice, with Marinette. She’s great.
She’s just not Ladybug.
She can’t stop thinking about it.
Chat Noir is her soulmate – and he won’t tell her. For her safety.
She wonders if she knows his civilian identity, if he figured it out.
A lot of akumas seem to affect her classmates. Like, most of them. By far. If she doesn’t know Chat Noir’s civilian self, she decides it’s still pretty likely he’s a student at Françoise duPont. Otherwise, they’d be getting drawn to some other school half the time.
It’s a weird thought.
She’s able to push it, and her other weird thoughts, aside in battle. But as soon as they win, as soon as she uses miraculous ladybug, it comes rushing back.
He’s her soulmate.
Not Adrien.
So when their physics exam is interrupted by an akuma (a dragon akuma, of all things), Marinette knows she has to tell him after they beat it.
But right now, she needs to focus, so she pushes her thoughts aside.
Chat Noir uses his cataclysm. She uses her lucky charm.
And then they end up locked in a closet.
Shit.
Her earrings beep, followed by his ring. Time is running out.
Without even needing to check with each other, they both focus their attention on getting out of the closet. The door is jammed. No one is coming.
Chat Noir can’t exactly use his cataclysm again, not without detransforming.
Dread sets in.
They’re going to have to detransform here.
“We can close our eyes,” he says.
He’s her soulmate.
“We can,” she agrees.
He’s her soulmate.
“I know you said it would be catastrophic if we found out each other’s identities…”
He’s her soulmate.
“I did.”
He’s her soulmate.
“Your wish is my command, my Lady.”
He’s her soulmate.
Fuck it.
She grabs the front of his costume and pulls him in for a kiss. He’s stiff at first – no doubt he’s surprised – but then he melts into it. His hands find her waist as he kisses her back with more passion than she ever expected.
Their timers expire.
The leather of his costume gives way to impossibly soft cotton.
Expensive.
Designer.
Unbidden, his words come back to her. “I’ve been told there’s a certain resemblance.”
Marinette’s eyes fly open of their own accord. No way.
She pulls away.
His eyes are still closed, but it’s him.
It’s him.
Adrien.
Adrien is her soulmate.
And so is Chat Noir.
Because Adrien is Chat Noir.
“My Lady,” he says, eyes still closed, because he’s so loyal and good, and she’s the one who’s just fucked up. “I should tell you…”
He’s Adrien.
“You’re my soulmate,” she says. Her voice comes out barely above a whisper.
He frowns, eyes still closed. “No, I’m not. That’s what I need to tell you.”
“You are,” she says. She takes a deep breath. She can do this. She knows his identity now, anyway, so is it really worth hiding that from him for who even knows how long?
That wouldn’t be fair to him.
So she says, “Open your eyes, Chaton.”
He does, after a moment’s hesitation.
Then his jaw drops, his mouth forming a cute little “o”; his eyes grow wide. He says, “Oh my god.”
She doesn’t know what to do. “Surprise?”
“Marinette…”
“It’s me. I’m – I’m Ladybug.”
He’s still in shock. “You’re Ladybug.”
“And you’re Chat Noir.”
“And I’m Chat Noir.”
She swallows. “Are you disappointed?”
He shakes his head, a smile starting to form on his lips. “Never. I – I love you, my Lady. And… I’ve always liked Marinette, too.”
He has? “I love you, too,” she tells him.
He grins. Kisses her. (He kisses her! Adrien!) Then says, “I just have to give Plagg some cheese, but after that… why don’t we defeat this akuma and… maybe go out for ice cream?”
“It’s a date.”
A date. With Adrien. With Chat Noir. With her soulmate.
He doesn’t think he’s ever been this nervous. They made quick work of the akuma, and now…
A date. With Ladybug. With Marinette. With his soulmate.
She loves him.
Ladybug is his soulmate and she loves him and they’re already friends and his father even tolerates her (which is a big deal, where his father is concerned).
He’s never had such good luck before.
It’s ironic; isn’t he supposed to be the manifestation of bad luck?
He reaches for the lucky charm in his pocket that Marinette – Ladybug! – gave him.
Maybe it actually works.
Once they’ve set everything right, and they finish their exams (because an akuma attack isn’t going to stop Mme Mandeleiev), he meets her outside of the classroom.
He holds her hand (she lets him hold her hand!) as they walk together to André’s ice cream stand.
He makes them one of his famous combinations for them to share.
“Ah, young love,” he sighs. “The two of you are made for each other.”
Instead of laughing, Marinette squeezes his hand and says, “Yeah.”
“We really are,” he agrees.
And now they can share their entire lives together. As soulmates.
They sit down together and share their ice cream, and it’s perfect.
“So,” he says. “How did you know it was me?”
“The cat puns,” she says flatly. “And you didn’t – at first I thought it was you – I-I mean Adrien – and then you-Adrien – Adrien-you? – didn’t react to my dress, and I thought that was the end of it because if you were my soulmate, you would have said something, but you never did and oh my god, I told you about the hamsters.”
He smiles at her. “I like hamsters.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“The dress,” he says.
She nods. “So it worked.”
“The puns worked, too.”
Then she smiles at him. It takes his breath away. How had he never noticed how radiant Marinette is before? (Because he’s been so focused on Ladybug, but she is Ladybug.) “I’m never going to escape those puns, am I?”
“Nope!” He leans in to kiss her.
It’s so perfect he could cry.