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It was a dreadful idea. He was wasting his time.
But Félix’s body moved of its own accord, leading him into the building highlighted by the Ladyblog as the latest Akuma’s location.
His mentor would give him hell as soon as he returned with Adrien in tow, but he could use the truth to his advantage to lessen his punishment. Kung Fu was one of the rare activities in which the ink blot that spiraled around his arm was visible, and it visibly shifted when the Akuma alert went off. As he sprinted through the entrance, he could feel it was already threatening to slither up his face and peak out of his collar. The stupid thing had gotten excited after taking one glimpse at a photo of Adrien’s band, specifically when his eyes caught a shock of blue hair and blue eyes, and it was irritating him to no ends.
That’s Luka Couffaine, his cousin told him when he asked, he’s the guitarist, and he’s really sweet and cool. At least, that’s what Marinette said.
He would give everything for it to go away and free him of another chain fate inflicted upon him, but alas, his prayers would never be answered. The only proper response was to keep an eye on his soulmate, and avoid any and all interaction.
Unfortunately, Hawk Moth’s influence was leaking out into his spiritual bond, crawling at the back of his mind like a colony of frazzled ants. Echoes of his voice scratched his brain moments before he felt a phantom of his power brush over his skin. In a blink of an eye, dark butterflies shaped the scales of his viper. Luka was no more, and Silencer rose out of his shadow, claiming his first victim with a hush.
When it was clear his search would bear no fruit, he shifted his focus on the Akuma. He had no particularly powerful abilities and the only one that he possessed was taking away one voice at a time, meaning he had to depend on his wit to fulfill his goal, which Félix didn’t even know about.
That is, up until he reached the roof. Silencer’s target was Bob Roth, known as the manager of a popular teen pop star, XY. Coincidentally, Luka’s Akumatization happened on the same day XY released his new music video, and found himself at the exact same TV station where the recording took place. He gathered some info from a fellow, pestering student who was a member of Luka’s band, and she claimed over text that the video, from the design to the music, was shamelessly plagiarized from their entry for a competition, hosted by none other than Bob Roth himself. And thus, the story came full circle.
With this new knowledge in mind, Félix watched as Paris’s voiceless superheroine fled, most likely to regroup with her partner and plan, while he followed his soulmate back into the building, stopping by a nearby dressing room to grab a few items that no one would miss, and stepping out with a disguise that would make his uncle weep.
Although he had no doubt Silencer was willing to chase Roth around the city, he knew he didn’t have to. His soulmate proved clever enough to use his abilities wisely, and there was one place close by that could give him everything he needed to hunt the manager down with a single flick of his fingers.
He waited for him to return to the station, where he met a handcuffed Bob Roth in front of the elevator.
Silencer spoke to the businessman in three different voices, all highly influential people, his manner of speaking was the same: slow, modulated and tinted with a confidence that sounded almost flirtatious. He taunted the manager with his voices, claiming if he didn’t admit the truth on live television with his own voice, he would use his power to manipulate his valued connections into cutting all ties with him, effectively ruining his reputation and therefore, his job.
Meanwhile, Félix stood barely a few meters away, watching with an odd tingle running down his spine before he reminded himself of his task.
Standing like the latest fashion disaster that sashayed straight from the catwalk of one of his uncle’s fashion shows, Félix confidently twirled his broom and nodded in the direction of the corridor. Bob Roth took it as a sign to flee past his captor, who stood paralyzed the moment he laid his eyes on him.
Observation couldn’t do him justice. He had seen the way Silencer moved. Never in a hurry, always sauntering as confidently as a model in his sleek, black and neon striped suit. Behind the visor of his helmet, his eyes were wide and green, staring at him despite the glowing butterfly symbol flickering over his face.
Félix cracked his neck when traces of Hawk Moth’s link echoed in his mind. A new, vicious emotion made him tighten his grip on his broom as he felt him cloud his soulmate’s thoughts with his power. Blinking his shock away, Silencer’s eyes narrowed at him.
“This is none of your business,” one of his hand puppets spoke in Ladybug’s voice. “Leave.”
“Au contraire, my good gentleman,” he widened his stance, straining his throat to speak in a different pitch, “you are my business.”
With that, he charged, forcing Silencer into defense. He dodged and weaved past his attacks, narrowly getting sent flying into a wall in the process. Fighting an Akuma was no game, and yet, he found himself enjoying a kind of thrill he never experienced before. The broom he tried to use was snapped in half in the first five seconds of their fight.
It was all down to their fists, with one at high disadvantage, but still managing to go toe to toe with a super powered opponent.
Was this what Ladybug and Chat Noir dealt with every week?
It was exhilarating.
“Why would you defend that man?” Silencer asked, lowering Mayor Bourgeois’s booming voice to a low growl as he flung the broom pieces away.
“I’m not here for him,” Félix objected with raised fists. “I’m here to free you from a much viler snake.”
Silencer readily met him with swift hooks, tearing away at his defense to reach his neck. Félix didn’t know how far did his strength go, but his intuition told him to keep those hands as far away from his weak spots as possible.
“Although, I admit, I was more than tempted to let you have your way with him.”
Finally, the Akuma landed a hit on his chest and he gasped as he flew back into a wall. He shook himself off and was just about ready to leap into offense, but his plans were cut short when the wall trembled under the force of Silencer’s fists, each one punching its respective hole next to his head, effectively trapping him.
“Then let me,” Ladybug’s voice insisted. “You heard what I said, he doesn’t deserve protection. If I don’t expose him now, no one will.”
He was right. Bob Roth’s web of businessmen, celebrities and politicians was impressively extensive. It would take time and patience to sift through every contact, which he had no doubt Silencer had plenty. Once again, he wondered would it be that bad to simply sit back and watch. He’d be lying if he said his soulmate’s vengeful streak didn’t please him.
But then the spiritual muck of Hawk Moth’s power would creep down the inside of his skull again, and Félix would change his mind.
“If you surrender, I could do it for you,” he told him, lowering his voice to a sympathetic murmur.
“How? What can you do?”
“Exactly what you said, but legally and mind control free.”
Silencer paused, mulling over his offer. He didn’t wait for an answer, instead swinging his hand to hit the side of his neck and slip away.
“You’re lying,” the Akuma seethed, rolling his neck as if to show how weakly he was affected.
“How would you know?” Félix retorted, his gaze sweeping over Silencer’s figure in search of the akumatized object, only for his jabs to interrupt him before he could analyze any further.
Something was happening. Something new. His body moved and twisted in advance, his heart predicting movements his mind couldn’t. While it kept him from getting his face smashed in, he was disappointed to find out the same worked with Silencer. He dived under his opponent’s kick and weaved through the corridors, while Silencer’s presence shadowed his every step even when he couldn’t see him. He entered the studio, only to find him already waiting there. Félix grabbed the nearest monitor and swung, but the Akuma’s fist dived straight through, ending up millimeters in front of his nose.
Their fight was no longer a fight, but a dance. Their steps were pre-determined, where Félix stepped forward, Silencer stepped back and vice versa. They moved to an invisible song that he couldn’t understand, but danced along anyways because he never felt more alive.
His attacks were getting weaker, and Félix felt the cause. A pang of shock, then understanding, then disbelief struck his heart, and he could tell from his soulmate’s expressive eyes that it wasn’t his.
“Who are you?” he asked with XY’s voice, sounding strangely vulnerable. “Have I met you before?”
“No, you haven’t.” The viper on his arm coiled under the sleeve of his trench coat, desperately reaching for his soulmate’s hands. “And hopefully, you never will.”
Silencer dodged one of his punches, but instead of hitting back, he grabbed ahold of his arm, tightened his grip, turned and swung him over his shoulder. He gasped as he hit the ground, and before he could move to stand up or twist around, the Akuma climbed on top of him, grabbing one of his arms with one hand and reaching for his face mask with the other.
It was the first time he had felt him. He could feel the snake on his arm climb upwards in swirls, as if it was hoping to pass unto Silencer’s arm.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” the hand that pulled down his mask formed a hand puppet that spoke softly into his ear, “Just tell me your name, and I’ll let you go.”
“No,” was his quick response before he started squirming, hoping to weaken the Akuma’s grip.
“Don’t make this hard for yourself, please. I don’t want to hurt you. I just-“ XY’s voice was saturated with desperation as he pleaded, “I need to know who you are.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer, and he didn’t have to.
He must’ve felt his mark move or something else that signified his proximity to him. It was why Félix decided to make it his goal in life not to make contact with Luka Couffaine till the day he was buried next to his father. Their link was highly sensitive, and the powerful, random tugs in his heart that would occasionally interrupt his daily life told him his specter of emotions was more expressive and wider than Félix’s would ever be. The only reason he experienced them so scarcely was because their connection was weak.
But now, he could feel a clear echo of hope in his chest that certainly wasn’t his own. Longing pulled at his heart strings, making him squirm from its intensity. This close, they’d be utterly transparent to each other, and Félix didn’t like it at all. He did not agree to a Rorschach mark that appeared when he turned thirteen, it was one of the things he never envied humans for. If anything, he hoped he would be the wildcard that slipped through fate’s fingers. Being born from magic and a powerful desire should’ve guaranteed it.
And yet, here he was, tied to another human being that might as well have had his own heart beating in their chest.
Instead of speaking, Silencer moved his hand around his face, careful not to pull the beanie off. His long, spindly fingers analyzed the curves of his face, tracing a line from his forehead, down the slope of his nose, to his lips and chin, where he started to tap at his jawline. For a small, quiet moment, his fingers were pressed flat against the bottom of his jaw, gently pushing his head upwards while his thumb slowly caressed his cheek.
It was so tender he couldn’t bring himself to move. Curiosity calmed him down, and willed him into trusting Silencer’s intentions as he leaned over him, low enough he could hear his muffled breaths. His emotions might’ve been another factor. They echoed louder in his chest, engulfing him in a powerful, protective aura that made it impossible for him to think he’d make him reveal his face while Hawk Moth was borrowing his eyes.
Emotions fogged his brain, and it left him so dazed, he nearly forgot why he was meddling in the first place. Then Silencer’s fingers moved again, up to his forehead, where he started tracing an odd shape with his index finger. A clover? A cloud? A…
Félix’s eyes blinked open in surprise.
A butterfly.
Why? Why on his forehead? What could be on his forehead? It was protected by the-
‘The helmet,’ he realized, ‘the Akuma was either in the helmet or in something under the helmet.’
Suddenly, a spotted yo-yo came flying in, hitting Silencer and forcing him back. Just like that, the moment was gone, and Félix rotated his body until he was on his back, extending his legs outward to catch him and bring him down so his thighs were wrapped tightly around his head.
“Ladybug,” he yelled, slipping his fingers under the edge of Silencer’s helmet and pulling, but to no avail. Silencer’s grip was painfully strong as he buried his fingers into his thighs and pulled back.
“I got it,” Chat Noir exclaimed as he jumped from behind and wrapped an arm around Silencer’s waist, then raised his free claw above his head, black energy crackling at the ready.
“Cataclysm!”
He slipped away while the heroes were distracted with Luka, tearing off his diguise as he speed-walked to the elevator. He was one tap away from calling Gorilla before he decided he would run home.
Ignoring Nathalie’s scoldings, he went to his room with a mission. Calls were made, some big names were pulled, thinly veiled threats were delivered. Barely a day passed before he was nestled on the couch with a gleeful Adrien, watching Kitty Section’s first live performance.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to introduce you to them?” he asked him while throwing Plagg another piece of camembert. “They’d be happy to meet you.”
It crossed his mind once, and never again. One factor pushed him into interfering, and it was that Hawk Moth’s victims never remember their actions as Akumas. Meeting Luka meant the effort he put into saving him was pointless. His mind was set, and he was not going to change his decision just because he met his soulmate in person.
“No thanks,” he waved him off, then slipped his hand under his sleeve to brush the viper’s scales. He felt a spike of warmth course through his chest at some point before his cousin barged into his room, and he felt nothing when he understood it wasn’t meant for him. “I provide divine intervention, nothing more.”
“If you’re so sure,” Adrien shrugged, before he stood up and strode towards his desk. “By the way, don’t be mad, but I may or may not have told them I knew who threatened Bob Roth into giving credit where it’s due.”
Félix’s lips pulled into an annoyed scowl, “You better have kept me anonymous.”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t say anything more,” he came back to the couch with a handful of items, ranging from colorful bracelets to stickers and a shirt. Adrien grinned widely at his quizzical look, “They respected it, and still wanted me to give you some of their exclusive merch.”
With a dramatic flourish, he draped the white t-shirt over his head, then proceeded to sprinkle his lap with stickers, bracelets and a single CD. All he could do was groan as his cousin busied himself with taping a few stickers unto his hand.
He pulled the shirt over to get a better look, and scoffed at the colorful, flashy design. It was…something. What caught his attention even more so than the logo was the collection of five ‘thank yous’ on the back, each one written in different handwriting, different color, and signed with a different signature.
His eyes were drawn to the blue chicken scratch that matched the writing on his CD. It wasn’t anything special, but something tickled his heart when he opened the cheap, plastic case and saw ‘L. Couffaine’ written in blue, along with ‘Le Chien de Garde’ written on the top next to a simple doodle of a dog.
‘Watchdog,’ echoed in his mind. It was either impressively clever or stupid how he assumed the person who saved his life was his soulmate. Otherwise, he couldn’t think of a reason why would he be given such a cryptic message that, according to Adrien, only he received. He wondered if that’s what Luka’s mark was, some breed of dog that sauntered across his skin, glaring at whoever looked at him weirdly.
He barked out a laugh at the mental image, drawing surprise from his cousin who curiously peeked at his CD. All this time, he was acting like he was the bigger person, the smarter person, when in actuality, he played right into fate’s hands.
Félix sighed, then pulled the shirt over his head while Adrien guffawed. Since he was already a clown, he might as well dress like one. The viper slithered across his arm and down his chest, laying its head below the spot where Luka’s signature lay.
At the very least, his cousin had no idea, too entranced with the rare sight of him in a flashy band t-shirt. Although he watched the performance to ignore his cousin’s antics, it didn’t stop Adrien from pulling out his phone, shoving himself into the spot next to him and flashing a bright, toothy smile as he snapped a few photos.
He smacked the top of Adrien’s head, refusing to take his eyes off the Kitty Section’s guitarist as he played the last chords of the song. Through the mask, his fitting, light blue eyes glanced at his audience, and if he squinted, it almost looked like he was smiling at him.
“So,” his cousin leaned against him, and he didn’t have to look to know he was grinning cluelessly like an idiot, “who’s your favorite?”
Squashing down the rising warmth in his chest, he smacked him again.