The Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir

Dysphoria

dysphoria
dɪsˈfɔːrɪə/
noun PSYCHIATRY
a state of unease or generalized dissatisfaction with life.
"adolescents with depression, dysphoria, mania, and anxiety disorders"

Petal wilting underneath a light long gone out. Leaves falling towards a bone dry ground. Roots decaying in Earth never caring. Stems weakening, laying to rest down a head of pollen that's lost its potency.

A flower was dying, and it was all her fault.

Now, normal people wouldn't see this as a big deal. Normal people wouldn't care, they would just throw out the dead plant and go buy a new one. The only logical conclusion was that she wasn't normal.

She wept, for she could not make it stay any longer than she made anyone else stay.

Alya left.

Nino left.

Chloe left.

Sabrina left.  

Nathanael left.

Mylene left.

Kim left.

Max left.

Ivan left.

Alix left.

Juleka left.

Even Rose left.

...

Adrien left.

Chat left.

Her parents left.

Tikki wanted to leave, she was sure of it. No-one loved her, no-one needed her, no-one liked her company or wanted her nearby. No-one would remember her either.

She grimaced, a very, very fake smile coming onto her face as footsteps drew near. Tears were cascading down her face in waterfalls now, burning worn out paths down her cheeks as if made of acid. These tears wouldn't do. These emotions wouldn't do. 

Those ever-soft footsteps kept coming until she slammed a fist down on her balcony floor, jolting the dead flower in its pot to crash down and shatter into hundreds of ceramic pieces. Just like her heart. Except, unlike the pot, she could still feel. She shouldn't have to feel. She didn't deserve to feel.

She regretted wearing a sleeveless shirt now.

Whoever was there could probably see her pattern of silvery scars down her arms.

She couldn't help it - all day, emotional pain was inflicted on her. Physical pain was nothing but a relief compared to the torment and anguish she felt whirling in her heart and soul. Blood specifically was calming - it was never-changing, always there. If you get cut, you'll bleed, and your blood will be red, always.

Unlike relationships.

They change, abruptly, shockingly, whether you like it or not. A parent could be loving one day and angry the next. A friend could care one moment and hate you within the span of an hour. Anyone could love you... and leave you in a heartbeat and never ever regret it.

The footsteps started again, growing fainter. Whoever was there probably decided she wasn't worth their time. Come to think of it, only Chat would be on her roof at this time of night. Heck, only Chat would be on her roof.

He doesn't care.

She started talking as if he were there, but knew he wasn't.

"Do you know what dysphoria is?" Her voice wavered and cracked with disuse and silent sobs. "I know very well what it is. As well as depression. And anxiety. And pain. It's all my life is now - pain. Even the good memories only bring me pain of what never will be again, because everyone seems to hate me now." A dry chuckle in the dead of night. "Everyone... even the one person I thought would stand by me thick and thin. Guess I was proved wrong." Sobs shake her to her core. "A-And... you-you're n-not listening... you're al-already g-gone, y-you don't c-care, n-no-one cares ab-about me anymore."

Her words were broken by uncontrollable weeping. But who would care? Not anyone. Not anymore. She couldn't hear the slow, quiet footsteps coming towards her through her tears.

"M-maybe I sh-should just leave... n-no-one wants me here and-and no-one w-would m-miss me..."

She stood up, stepping over the broken flower pot with the dead flower and towards the edge of her balcony.

"Tikki could find a Ladybug who was actually capable..."

She stepped up on the railing, unnaturally balanced and unnaturally still with her arms outstretched. 

"And Chat would find someone else to team up with..."

She leaned forward ever so slightly...

"I love you all."

... and a gloved hand grabbed her wrist before she could hit the ground.

Connected to a leather garbed arm.

Leading up to a face with terrified, bloodshot green eyes and messy blond hair. 

Marinette's wide blue eyes glazed over and she burst into tears again as he pulled her up and hugged her tight. 

"Oh god, Marinette, please don't leave me too."

in a depressing mood right now. But here's a joke.

A optimist sees the glass half full. A pessimist sees the glass half empty.

An engineer sees a glass twice as big as it needs to be.