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Chapter Text

In the mountains of Tibet resided a temple, built from cold stone and lit by sparsely placed braziers. It was freezing and empty, but to a group of young men and women, it was to be their new home.

All had been called upon by gods to watch over aspects of humanity, to help guide them to enlightenment. Fractals of cosmic powers were cut away, shaped and molded and designed to be wielded.

Twelve animals had stepped forward, offering their powers as minor gems, a test, one that could be easily taken away should things go awry. But the newly formed order cared for their gifts, used their powers for the betterment of all. So the elements themselves gave more gifts, entrusting those who had proven themselves as natural leaders, tacticians.

These five, too, proved to be capable of what the gods asked of them. Hundreds of years had passed since the temple was first built. What was once hollow became filled with the sounds of a small community, children trained to wield the gems, mentors and Kwami alike, running in jubilation and glee.

Finally, the two highest beings took a risk. They appeared before their chosen in their dreams, offering the most power. Creation and Destruction. The two chosen accepted, becoming the heads of the order, seen as pillars of Light and Hope.

The Avatar of Destruction was none the wiser of the mistake it had made. Years later, his chosen revealed his true colors. A wish, he heard, was possible. One that could bring ultimate betterment. After all, if no one could do wrong, if no one was evil, if no one was tempted by greed and darkness, then the Order would have succeeded in their ultimate mission.

Alas, the battle between the Destruction and Creation was devastating, killing countless masters and destroying the temple. Many ran, holding on to their gift from gods to keep it away from the greedy traitor.

And so he stood, costumed in armour of a beast, blood covering his clawed hands, eyes glowing in the dark, lit by moonlight and fire, all alone, with only his ring to his name.

A Name lost to time.

The history of the Beast Miraculous was just as bloody, just as ruined. What Was once a beacon of hope became a legend, a magical artifact that can destroy anything, bring about ruin. And many greedy people killed for it, or stole for it. Master after master used and abused the power, ignoring the pleas from the God who was bound to them.

A small, inconsequential cat, a mere mockery of the unknowable form he used to take. A silent, sad soul defined by chains and commands.

Sometime around the late 1800s, a petty thief had taken the ring, as well as other valuables, not aware of what treasure he had found. The police were in pursuit of him, a young teen, his clothes torn and soaked with sweat. A poor boy who felt pushed to do whatever he needed to survive.

But the police had weapons, and a particularly violent and influential person relying on them to bring back what was taken. So they opened fire.

And the ring fell into a river. It stayed there for decades, dormant.

     Monday April 18, 2005

“W-what happened?” A small girl asked meekly, tears welling up in her big blue eyes. “What d-did I do?”

A blonde child held the ripped remains of a sketchbook, wet and sopping and just destroyed. A birthday present that Marinette just lost. Chloe laughed, a high-pitched and awful laugh. “My mommy is the best fashion designer, as if you could waste your time even trying to draw trash!” She tossed the sketchbook at Marinette, who fell over from the force alone.

It started when they were six. Marinette and Chloe were friends, not too close but still nice to each other, until Chloe one day decided she hated Marinette, and needed to make the poor girl miserable, utterly miserable.

It’s been a year, and Marinette was hoping that by now Chloe would be bored and leave her alone. Obviously, that was not the case.

Marinette pulled herself to her feet, and ran away, not caring that the school would call her parents, not caring about her parents worries, not a thought crossed the young girl’s mind, other than the desire to be as far away from Chloe as possible. So she ran, hiding underneath a stone bridge, the reflection of the water illuminating the centuries-old dirt and moss.

“I hate this…” she mutters, curled up. “I hate this I hate this I hate this!” The small girl grabbed at her hair, pulling her hair out of its carefully made pigtails, ones that Marinette was proud to have done without her mother’s help this morning. Her emotions were wild and enormous, almost too big for her small body. She wanted to scream and rip something just like her sketchbook was ripped to shreds. She wanted to kick something hard, just like kids at school kicked her and made her fall, bruising her face and scraping her palms just like they are now, scabbed over and still stinging.

Her feelings were… were… Arrgh! There weren’t words big enough to describe it! Marinette inhaled sharply, wracking her brain to remember something, anything.

But a glimmer caught her eye. Something stuck in the moss on the edge of the concrete, something that would be completely hidden if it wasn’t for the light from the water. Anger faded away, quickly being replaced with curiosity. Marinette reached out and wrapped her hand around the clump of moss, wincing at the texture, slimy and so… gross. But the wet plant separated from the concrete easily enough, and Marinette quickly peeled it away to reveal… a ring.

Stained green, but made with some sort of black metal, large and clunky, much too big to fit Marinette’s small fingers. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, the ring started to glow, and in the light it shrunk, losing its awful decor and switching to a smaller, smoother design. Marinette squinted in the light, and when it fell away, she looked at the new ring with awe. It was the perfect size now, a simple rose gold band with Chinese hanzi engraved around it. Marinette didn’t know what it all meant, but she could recognize the hanzi for ‘fire’.

“A magic ring?” Marinette wondered, slowly putting it on her right index finger. The ring fit snugly, and honestly… was cold to the touch. Marinette looked up and noticed the lack of light. A cloud covered the sun, and more clouds were on the horizon. “Ack! It’s gonna rain!” Marinette jumped up to her feet and ran towards home.

Inside the ring lived a God, a concept, too afraid to allow himself outside of the ring. He felt his form change, and he felt the ring slide onto a finger, but he didn’t dare look out into the world. He didn’t want to know what terrible things he’d be forced to do.

     Friday April 22, 2005

A week later, Marinette was very upset to find her school locker was dented, enough to make the opening mechanisms inside jammed… meaning she won’t be able to grab her school books… or her homework! Marinette leapt forward and pulled as hard as she could, trying her best to open the locker. If she can’t get to her work, she won’t be able to turn it in, and if she can’t turn it, them she’ll fail school and won’t be able to go to fashion school or get a job and then she’ll have to be homeless and fight raccoons for food—

The bell rang, jarring Marinette out of her spiral. Oh no! Her teacher will be expecting her work, but her work is stuck in her locker! A snide chuckle caught the girl’s attention, and she turned to see Chloe, Kim and Ivan watching her panic, Chloe looking ecstatic. Kim smirked, and Ivan only looked on, with no emotion on his face. He stood tall, as tall as Kim and already a lot wider than most other seven-year-old boys. Marinette suspected he had something to do with the locker dent.

The three left, proud of themselves, proud of their… horrible mean actions! Marinette’s eyes started to burn against her will, and her desire to go to class and face her teacher withered.

The beast within the ring awoke abruptly, uneasy at the sudden rush of… hopelessness. A feeling that usually doesn’t come until long after holders abuse his powers, corrupting themselves beyond humanity, gorging on the pure destruction of the cosmos.

But this holder hasn’t done anything, hasn’t transformed, hasn’t called him forward, forced him into using his powers. Odd.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

The girl flinches, curled up at her locker, having yanked the handle and messed with the dented lock as much as possible before giving up. The voice wasn’t recognizable, but a quick glance showed a teacher with a pointy chin and sharp glasses, stern and quickly approaching.

“I’m sorry!” Marinette cried, fearing the worst. Of course, of course, it wasn’t a nice teacher who found her, but a stern one, one that won’t hesitate to expel her!

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng, what on earth is going on?” The teacher asked, her angry tone fading slightly. Marinette’s cheeks burned; the young girl knew her tears were upsetting, but! But! Everything is awful!

“I-I–” Marinette gasped, truly having no control over herself. Her panic and pain were controlling her, and Marinette just wanted to get a hold of herself! “Th-The lock-cker! It’s b-broken!” She kept trying to blink the tears away, trying to get a better look at the teacher without making eye contact, a feat that was impossible with the teacher staring, watching.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng…” the teacher sighed, stepping closer to the small girl and kneeling. “Marinette, I need you to take deep breaths. In for four seconds, out for five. Follow me.” The teacher started breathing, guiding the girl out of her mind. It took a few moments–Marinette’s breath kept hitching and sobs kept gripping her lungs. But Marinette slowly calmed down, her fear much more manageable.

“Marinette, can you tell me what made you upset?” The teacher asked. Her voice still had a hard edge, but it wasn’t sharp, just… strong.

“My locker is broken. I can’t grab my homework, and I don’t want to fail school.” Marinette looked up at her locker, and the Teacher followed her gaze, finally noticing the perfectly placed dent right next to the handle, ruining the inner mechanisms of the locker.

“Oh…” The teacher hummed, brows furrowed. She had no actual way to grab Marinette’s homework, but honestly, the problem didn’t seem to be one that would cause such a panic. Of course, to a seven-year-old, anything can seem like a life or death situation. “Well, don’t worry, your teacher will understand. I’ll tell him about it.”

The teacher, Mr. Beumont, was very understanding, and helped Marinette by getting her another sheet of homework, and having her turn it in tomorrow. Marinette would be getting a new locker, and everything would be fine.

The teacher eyed Mr. Beumont’s class, looking for anyone who could ruin a locker—they are seven-year-olds after all—and the only child who could be the culprit was Ivan Bruel. Mr. Bruel was large, but he was kind, the Teacher knew that. Obviously, someone else had to goad him into it.

“Ms. Mendeleiev,” Mr. Beumont drew her attention away from the students. “Is… there anything else you need?” The man asked. He was ready to get back to teaching, and Ms. Mendeleiev needed to get back to her own class.

“No, that is all.” Ms. Mendeleiev turned around and walked out of the classroom, fully aware that she planned to keep a very careful watch on Marinette and Ivan. If he was willing to destroy a locker, then what would happen if someone goaded Ivan into hurting other kids? He would overpower anyone in that classroom. Very dangerous indeed.

The beast inside the ring shivered. Peaceful and non-violent solutions weren’t something he was around much, and the atmosphere was… relaxing.

In fact, the entire week was like this, not a hair of magic or malice. Maybe… the beast would be safe?

The rest of the school day went without any major hiccups, only the usual tripping and mean words muttered where the teacher couldn’t hear. All in all, a good day in Marinette’s book.

The girl sat at her desk, sketching in a mostly used sketchbook. There was some space in the margins for doodles and small sketches. Marinette will need to get another sketchbook again.

The beast looked out, watching a young girl create. So much creation spilled over the pages, filled to the brim with ideas and people and fashions. Odd, a creation-forward person being his holder. And so… young. She can’t be more than… ten years old? Maybe younger. The beast wasn’t good with human ages, but most of his owners had been old enough to be away from parents, to work jobs or raise children. Not… still go to primary school?

The beast crawled out of the shadows cast by her lamp light, wanting a closer look at what this Little Girl was drawing. A dress, white with blue flowers, paired with a purse.

“AHHHH—”

“AHHHH—” Marinette screamed at the thing near her hand. Which quickly flew towards her! She jumped out of her chair, causing it to fall over and for her to trip, landing on her butt and letting the black creature to hover over her face.

“Shshshshshhh! Be quiet, be quiet!” The thing whispered frantically, looking around and focusing on the trapdoor once the creature noticed it. “No one can know I exist!”

Marinette had already stopped screaming when she landed on the floor, but she stammered, panicked.

“W-what are you? How are you talking? Or flying? Please don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not gonna hurt you!” The creature moved back a bit, as though offended. “I’m your companion. From the ring.” It pointed at the rose gold band that Marinette had found. Marinette turned to look at it, but it didn’t seem any different. “I’m a kwami. My name is Plagg.”

Marinette stared at… Plagg. As small as her hand, inky black and fuzzy at the edges… sort of like light was being sucked into a black hole. Plagg had… some sort of shape, but it didn’t seem solid, shifting with tendrils of shadow and flame. Fire, one of the hanzi on the ring, said.

Maybe Marinette should ask her mom to decipher it.

“I’m M-Marinette. Dupain-Cheng.” The girl held out a shaky hand, but Plagg only looked at the gesture, confused. “You shake it. A handshake. To, uh, greet people you meet,” Marinette explained. Slowly, Plagg reached out what must be a limb, and touched an index finger. It felt warm, slightly fuzzy… a velvet sort of texture. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Plagg responded, starting to looking around

“What does a Kwami… do?” Marinette looked at her ring. Plagg tilted its head and flickered.

“...I’m like a Guardian Angel.” The Kwami’s tone could be seen as questioning, as if it didn’t believe its own words. “I can… stay by your side, and… protect you?” Marinette frowned. Was Plagg lying? Maybe it didn’t want to be her Guardian Angel. Maybe it hated her!

“If you don’t want to, you can just say so!” Marinette’s lip wobbled, but her voice was sharp, disappointed. Chloe’s bullying had given the young girl a fierce streak that didn’t show up often. Meekness was a more reoccurring trait.

“Woah, who said I didn’t want to?” Plagg flickered again. “I just haven’t done this… in a while! So I’m not used to it!” The Kwami insisted, approaching the girl and glaring determinedly. Its tone still made Marinette feel like it was lying, or at least not completely telling the truth. But they did just meet, so Marinette guessed Plagg needed more time to trust her.

To be honest, the sentiment was shared.

     Saturday May 14, 2005

The next time Marinette was able to see her mother, Marinette brought up her ring, and the hanzi engraved on it.

Sabine eyes the ring for a second, before heading upstairs and into her bedroom. Marinette sits on a stool in the bakery, waiting. And when Sabine came back down, it was with two different books.

“This one,” Her Mother held up a blue book, spine lined with creases and Mandarin written on the cover. “Help me read French when I first moved here. And this book,” A small, ragged leather book, with no creases nor title. “Was given to me by my grandfather. I never got around to reading it, but I saw it with my translation book and thought it might keep you busy.” Sabine handed the books to her young daughter, then returned to her baking.

The bakery was successful and busy, requiring all of her and Tom’s time. But Marinette found herself with plentiful time to hang out with Plagg and do her fashion designs, so she couldn’t be too upset.

‘The Flames of Knowledge are without limits.’

Marinette eyed her writing in her notebook. Cross-referencing with the translation book and the ancient journal gave her this one sentence. Plagg looked over her shoulder, perplexed.

“Does this… mean anything to you?” Marinette asked. “It is your ring, after all.”

Plagg searched the ring, resting on the desk. “N-no? At least, Knowledge hasn’t ever… been something I was associated with? That was for—” Plagg stopped, turning to look at Marinette. Its eyes were foggy, upset. “Knowledge was for other kwami’s.”

Marinette didn’t ask any clarifying questions, and left the two books in a drawer to be forgotten.

Chapter Text

     2005-2008

The friendship between Marinette and Plagg was slow-going, what with Marinette’s anxiety and Plagg’s reluctance. But within the month, Marinette showed Plagg movies, and gave him—Plagg was a him—cheese pastries, and overall showed the Kwami a niceness and hospitality that it seemed he had gone without for quite some time.

Plagg, too, warmed up to Marinette. One time, during a particularly bad attack from Chloe, he had snuggled up to her chest, purring, warm and comforting, Marinette’s own little friend. It was something vulnerable that Plagg couldn’t see himself doing for anyone else. Especially not after only a month of knowing them.

And it was strange to Plagg, who was still the Avatar of Destruction, a God if you will, to find himself quite content being a Guardian Angel to some seven-year-old girl. But she never seemed to need his Miraculous the way it was intended to be used, and Plagg was willing to abuse her lack of Knowledge to give himself a break. The modern world was amazing. Surely this is the enlightenment that the ancient Order had strived for! Electricity, merely an experiment last time Plagg was out, now a common and powerful staple in every home!

And school? Yeah, it sucked that Marinette was getting bullied. Plagg had to fight the urge to destroy the blonde brat who seemed to be the class’s ringleader, but school! For everyone! What a miraculous thought!

Plagg kept himself quite happy for two years, the Beast a mere nightmare, and Marinette a Guardian Angel of her own right. Plagg had told the now nine-year-old outright. 

It was a particularly tense flicker of panic that caught Marinette’s eye. Plagg floating in a corner of the room, distracting himself with the television on her computer. But the dark fire started to flash, sucking in the sunlight that spilled from her windows. 

“Plagg?” Marinette knew to stay away from Plagg during his… flickering moments. He said it was dangerous, which… she could believe the warning. Plagg’s appearance did give the idea that he was more than she knew. “Are you okay Ange?” 

The Kwami sighed. “No, kid, I’m not okay.” Plagg turned around, barely sparing a glance at the lack of light he caused. “I… I think I need to tell you something.” Not everything, of course.

Marinette sat on her chaise, letting Plagg come to rest in her lap, tail curled around his small body. They sat there in silence for a minute, Marinette twisting the ring on her finger. 

“Kid… the ring you have is a very important object. It’s called a Miraculous.” Plagg sighed. “A long time ago, we gave humans Miraculous in order to help others… but mine…”

Marinette pulled Plagg a bit closer.

“Mine stands for Destruction, and was used… improperly. For evil. I… still think about everything past holders did with my power, and…”

“I’m sorry that happened, Ange.” Marinette scratched behind velvet ears. Over the years, Plagg had been able to focus his form into something more… solid. He still had tendrils of Darkness and Fire wrapped around his body, still giving off that not-light glow. But he now had a more defined silhouette, a small, upright cat.

Marinette wanted to ask how Plagg could be used. After all, it’s been two years, and Plagg hasn’t done something that Marinette would think to be destructive. Being a guide, a Guardian, a friend. But Marinette knew that asking would be rude, and all Plagg needed right now was comfort.

“Sometimes I am reminded. Like… nightmares.” Plagg confessed, the usually boisterous Kwami whispering. “I’m afraid that I will lose you, be given to someone like that Blonde Brat, or… someone even worse.”

Marinette pulled Plagg in, almost squeezing him. “Never!” She declared. “You’re my angel, and I’ll never let you go. I swear!”

     Sunday October 19, 2008

“Happy Birthday to you!”

“Happy Birthday to you!”

“Happy Birthday dear Adrien, Happy Birthday to you!”

Emilie Agreste finished her song, handing her child of now 10 years a large cupcake covered in chocolate frosting and topped with a single blue candle. Adrien sat at the end of their dining room table, grinning ear to ear.

“Thank you Mère!” The young boy eagerly blew out the candle and picked up a fork, his behavior an amusing mix of childlike glee and Agreste demeanor. It made Emilie’s stomach turn.

As per usual, Gabriel was off doing business. Ignoring his only son. His fashion career had taken off within the past decade, and Gabriel claimed that this needed his full attention. But… Adrien hasn’t even looked around for Gabriel, didn’t seem to even remember that he had a father. 

Really, this behavior was abhorrent!

     Friday July 11, 2009

“Happy Birthday to me…” Marinette mumbled, eyeing the lone cookie on the kitchen counter, a yellow card sitting next to it. The sounds of her parents downstairs in the bakery were muffled, but Marinette could still hear loud customers and smell baking bread. 

She picked up the card to read it. Happy Birthday! The words were printed. We love you! Her mother’s familiar scrawl was scribbled underneath, as if rushed. 

“That’s really rude of them, you know,” Plagg scoffed, disgust filling his tone. He floated over Marinette’s left shoulder, reading the impersonal card. The Kwami seemed to always have a criticism of Marinette’s parents, and normally the young girl had defended them and their absences. But… not today. This was her tenth birthday! A really big deal, according to Chloe. 

And her parents weren’t there with her. 

Marinette, strangely, didn’t feel the familiar tears well up, like she normally would. Just… disappointed. 

Plagg seemed to catch on, because he rested atop her head and gave her a pat. “Hey, kid, I think I have something you might enjoy!” The kwami’s voice barely quivered. Marinette hummed, curious. “But let’s go back upstairs, okay?”

Marinette gave Plagg a small smile and followed his suggestion. Her room had hardly changed within the last year. Posters and artwork covered various parts of her wall, and a few more grey and black items had found their way into the decor. A Dollhouse sat underneath her bunk bed, which is where Plagg decided to rest on the few nights he wanted privacy. He mostly slept by Marinette’s head, or purring on her chest, but the Dollhouse was a cool place to stay when he didn’t feel up to it.

“What did you have in mind?” Marinette asked, standing awkwardly in the center. Plagg zipped to face her, eyes wide and serious. 

“I think I trust you enough to use me.” He said, voice firm and flicker barely noticeable. “It’s been three years since you’ve come across my ring, and I think… I know you are a better person than my past holders.” Plagg grinned. It was true, he did trust the girl with most of his heart (there would always be the sliver of doubt and hopelessness) but more than that, the Kwami found himself feeling restless, and almost like lightning was threatening to strike, prickling the edges of his body.

“Really?” Marinette gasped, and there was a sparkle in her eyes. Plagg simply nodded, nervous and excited. “How does this work?”

Emilie knows that the Peacock Miraculous is broken. It still has Duusu, and it can still transform and cast powers, but Nooroo said that the Miraculous was not at full power, and would actively harm anyone who used it. 

But Emilie needed to run around sometimes, so she would don the Peacock brooch and transform into Lady Vue, hopping around Paris and enjoying the view. She never used its power. Duusu warned her it was broken and would harm her even faster.

It was tonight that Gabriel had rubbed Emilie the wrong way. Outright ignoring her inputs or even close to insulting her intelligence. Even if he didn’t agree, why didn’t he just say that? It seemed to be only Gabriel’s realization that he was talking to his wife, not a nameless employee, that kept his harsh barbs at bay.

Well. Lady Vue danced above the city, light and near weightless, like those astronauts on the moon. With the help of the Miraculous, Lady Vue could leap for meters, reaching, stretching her arms, so close to touching the moon.

But she had to stay here on earth. She had to stay with her son, be the heart and love that his father deemed unimportant and frivolous. 

And–and it was frustrating to see Gabriel go down this path. He was the epitome of romance, he was worth the loss of family ties that Emilie sacrificed to marry him. Gabriel was there for her, and Adrien, when he was younger. But now that Gabriel’s fashion company started to become internationally famous, he simply… wasn’t. 

Something moved.

Lady Vue turned to see a shadow flit away, stalking the shadows, disappearing as soon as she turned her head. Someone was watching her. “Hello?” She asked, probably stupidly, but if this was a threat, all Lady Vue could do was run away. The Peacock Miraculous had no combat abilities.

After a moment, a young girl stepped into the moonlight. Her eyes were a vibrant green, sclera included, and she wore a black tunic with a green hem, and had a black mask around her eyes. Cat ears poked out of the top of her head, and a ribbon wrapped around her waist gave the illusion of a tail.

This was obviously a miraculous holder. And quite a young one, the poor girl can’t be older than Adrien.

But a cat? Lady Vue couldn’t remember a Cat Miraculous in her husband’s book. There was a chance this Miraculous wasn’t a part of the Original Tibet box. But there were very few Miraculous that weren’t, if Lady Vue could remember correctly.

With a start, she realized she’d been staring at this girl, who looked a little like she was shaking.

“Hello, dear,” Emilie used her best mother voice, the calm one that sang lullabies and helped Adrien go to sleep. “I am Lady Vue. I believe you’ve found yourself… a miraculous, correct?” Maybe letting the girl know that Emilie was on her side would help her stay calm. Curiosity about this new Miraculous burned in her mind.

The little girl hesitated, then nodded. “I’m … Ange Noir.” It was clear the young girl had no idea what to do. “Are… Are there other Miraculous? I thought I was the only one?” Ange Noir came closer, voice quiet.

Lady Vue chuckled. “There are lots, dear Ange, but there aren’t any other active ones. Just me and you.” Gabriel had the Butterfly, of course, but he was too busy to use it, keeping it stored away in the hidden safe in his office. “What brings you out tonight?”

Ange Noir shrugged. “My Kwami said I could transform today.” Silence followed, Emilie waiting for Ange Noir to continue. But the girl seemed done with talking. She still was off-put by Lady Vue’s presence, which was smart of her.

“I have to leave now,” Lady Vue said, nodding her head. “But maybe we’ll meet again, Ange Noir.” And with that, Lady Vue leapt away, hiding behind a chimney, spying on the young girl. 

And that’s how Lady Vue spent the rest of her evening, watching Ange Noir hop around and test her baton, merely playing with the power that a God granted her. But Emilie cooed at the sight. Ange really was like her own son. 

It was close to ten at night when Ange Noir started to run in a straight line, obviously heading somewhere. Lady Vue followed, careful not to be seen. Then Ange stopped on a roof with a trapdoor, slipping in and disappearing. Lady Vue stepped out to see more. 

A bakery, with a house above. That was where Ange Noir lived. Emilie smiled, and started to run back to her own home. She had plans for tomorrow.

“Claws in.” A faint green glow washed over her body, removing her gi and morphing back into Plagg. The Kwami looked pensive, a paw held to his chin. “Who was that? Lady Vue?” Marinette asked, concerned.

“The Peacock.” Plagg turned to look at his holder. “There are many Miraculous. The first twelve correlate with the Chinese zodiac, and the last seven connect with the elements. I’m one of them.” Plagg grinned, proud.

“What element are you?” Marinette sat at her desk, gathering papers she scattered everywhere.

“Fire.” Plagg sat on a cleared space, still thinking. “Five were made before me and Tikki. The Peacock, Butterfly, Fox, Bee, and Turtle. Heart, Metal, Water, Air, and Wood, respectively.”

Marinette squinted. “Some of those aren’t elements?” But even as she asked, she glanced at her ring, at the Fire hanzi. 

“Neither is fire, kid.” Plagg shrugged. “Tikki, she’s Creation, and Good, and Earth. My opposite. I haven’t seen her in quite a bit.” The void flickered, lost in thought. Marinette wanted to ask more (Wasn’t water Fire’s opposite?) But she knew Plagg’s memories were a time for silence. So instead, she started to draw, finding herself adding Peacock and Fire motifs to scarves and dresses.

     Tuesday September 2, 2009

Marinette had gone out as Ange Noir fairly regularly after her tenth birthday, and she never ran into Lady Vue again. It was a bit eerie, knowing that at any moment a lady in blue could appear from nowhere, smiling like a mother, but with an air of… foreboding.

Plagg had taken to teaching Marinette what little he remembered about the seven elemental Miraculous, mostly impressions he’d made before his own ring was made. 

“The Turtle was protection, making shields, and they were often stuffy sensei-type people.”

“I actually fought a Fox holder back in the day… Atlantis was never the same after that.”

“The Bee? Not a fighter. More like reconnaissance. All their holders were really… weird.”

It was really… interesting to hear about more beings like Plagg. He didn’t have any specifics, but quite a few stories mentioned them across a battlefield, a fight between Good versus Evil. And Marinette never needed to guess who was deemed “Evil”.

How could Plagg be even close to evil? Marinette asked for the millionth time after he helped her find her hairbrush for school. The Kwami tried to play it cool, but Marinette knew he was just as anxious as she was. It will be her last year of Elementary School, the last year with Mr. Beumont and Chloe. Ms. Mendeleiev transferred to the Middle School near Marinette’s house, which was great. 

Marinette was definitely getting into her class next year.

“Come on Plagg, I think I’ll actually be on time today!” Marinette grabbed her backpack, and descended from her ladder, heading straight for the fridge to grab the lunch she packed last night, as well as the box of macaroons and a banana for breakfast. She didn’t really eat food in the morning, always in a rush to do something or be somewhere.

Marinette entered the Bakery, wanting to say goodbye to her parents, and a couple regular customers. She had started doing some helping around the bakery, cleaning up and chatting with customers to help with the long line. One of her favorite customers was Miss Emilie, a lovely woman who promised to be here today!

A quick scan of the packed shop, and Marinette was disappointed to not see the familiar blond woman. Maybe she was late? Emilie also had a son (one that she says she wants Marinette to meet) so maybe Emilie was helping him go to school as well? That’s okay, Marinette sighs. She can always see Emilie after school, or on weekends. 

Emilie Agreste was running late, and for an excellent reason. Rebellion took time, after all. So did photocopying a large tome behind your husband’s back. It was a small project that the woman had been chipping away at for the last of summer. And now, Emilie held the full copy in a red binder, fully intending to give this to Ange Noir.

But Emilie had, for some reason, been planning to give the binder to Marinette, who had no idea that Emilie was Lady Vue. And Emilie is supposed to have no idea about Ange’s identity. She had no clue why she simply… forgot.

And the slip-up made Emilie so anxious, her heart missing beats and causing her hands to shake. This wasn’t the first time something like this happened, the irregular heartbeat. Duusu says it’s from Emilie’s use of the Peacock Miraculous. 

Emilie hasn’t told Gabriel about it. He’d take the brooch away, and then Emilie would lose her freedom. 

So she readied a driver for the bakery, and headed out.

Marinette arrived at school, confident. This was her last year with Chloe. And with Plagg by her side, Marinette planned to stand her ground, be the holder that the kwami could be proud of!

She sat in the back of the classroom, where it would at least keep Chloe away for a good amount of time. It was a lot easier to notice the bullying when the bully had to climb the classroom stairs.

Marinette pulled out a sheet of paper. And started to draw with a cheap yellow pencil. It was a hard lesson to learn, that art supplies had to stay home, or they’d get destroyed or “lost”.

Three minutes until the bell rings. What a record! Marinette grinned to herself, sketching a cat with fire coming out of its mouth. After Plagg told her he was a representative of Fire, well, Marinette had a few thoughts on his looks. A void fairy-cat-mouse was cool, don’t get her wrong, but a fire-breathing cat! It would be like having her own Pokémon!

“That’s really good,” a voice murmured, almost too quiet to hear. Marinette turned to see a boy with bright red hair standing by her desk. “Oh!” He jumped, as if surprised that he had said anything aloud. “S-sorry! I, uh,” with a red face, the boy sat next to Marinette, as far as the bench would allow him. “There’s nowhere else to sit.”

Marinette looked at the boy for a second. A weird introduction, that’s for sure, but a quick glance at Chloe in the front reassured her that this wasn’t going to be a prank. “You can sit here.” Marinette decided to give him blanket permission, to make him feel welcome here in the back of class. “I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Nathaniel Kurtzburg. Nice to meet you.”

Emilie knew she was too late. Marinette was already at school and wouldn’t be back for hours. But Emilie didn’t have hours. 

“You can head home,” she smiled at the driver as she opened her door. “I feel like walking home today.” The driver blinked, turning to face Emilie in order to object, but Emilie had already left the car and headed into the bakery. With a sigh, the driver left. After all, orders were orders.

Emilie played a part once she was inside. She had to at least drop things off in Marinette’s room, but of course, her parents wouldn’t allow a random adult woman inside. So Emilie greeted Sabine and Tom, and frowned when she heard that Marinette wasn’t home. 

“Oh, all right. I’ll have to come by earlier next time. Tell her hello from me!”

Emilie stayed a few more minutes, becoming very aware of the irregular beating of her heart, and by the time Emilie walked out of the bakery and into a nearby alley, she was feeling dizzy. 

“Miss?” Duusu’s hands shivered. “I don’t think you should transform right now…” 

“I have to.” Emilie shook her head. “Marinette needs this, before Gabriel finds it.”

“But you might die!”

Emilie’s breath shuddered. Her hands were clammy, her neck was warm. A pigeon a few meters away was starting to grow fuzz around the edges. And the bright Parisian sunlight was losing its glow, losing vibrancy.

“Spread my Feathers!”

Nathaniel turned out to be a really cool seat mate. He was quiet, not distracting, and in between class periods was an all right conversationalist. He was obviously shy, and that wasn’t something that Marinette would break through in a few hours. But he was great, he liked art and Superheroes, especially Marvel, and he knew how to play the violin (“Well, I-I’m still learning. I’m not any good at violin…”)

And Chloe had stayed away all day! Without her orders, Kim ignored Marinette and chatted with his own friends. So, really, this day was just the best! Marinette waved goodbye to Nathaniel and started her walk back home.

“Well, I’d say today has been successful!” Plagg grinned and poked his head out of Marinette’s backpack. “You made a friend and everything!” 

“Yeah! This year’s going to be different! I can tell.” Marinette spun around, so excited. Maybe with a new friend, she’ll finally find the nerve to stand up to Chloe! Especially with how nervous Nathaniel seemed to be. Marinette would have to protect him.

“It’s about time you got some good luck!” Plagg said, zipping back into the backpack to hide from a stray pedestrian. Marinette simply hummed in agreement and finished her walk, basking in her seemingly newfound good luck.

“Mama!” Marinette called in Chinese, bursting through the bakery doors. “Guess what? I made a new friend!” The bakery wasn’t too full; most people were out picking their kids up from school. Even so, Mom and Dad were bustling, preparing for an after school rush. “His name is Nathaniel, and he draws like me!”

“Marinette, sweetie, not now, okay?” Mama didn’t look up from wiping down a glass display. “We’ll talk later. Love you!” 

Marinette stiffened. Really? No ‘hello’? No ‘that’s nice, now go play’? Just. Just ‘Not now.’ The young girl nodded once, and then made her way upstairs, barely noticing how dry her eyes were. Plagg didn’t show himself until Marinette was in her room, trapdoor shut and bag dropped to the floor.

“Look, Kid—” 

“I don’t want to talk right now.” Marinette climbed up her bed, opening the skylight and retreating to her balcony. Plagg didn’t follow, probably hiding in his dollhouse. The girl sighed, throwing herself onto her chair and closing her eyes. Where was that good luck now?

But the breeze was pleasant, and the sun wasn’t too hot. Marinette spread her body, soaking up the warmth, letting her muscles relax one by one. Her family was making her tense, but the girl was starting to get used to it. She just needed to remember that her parents were at work right now. And might be at work… Forever.

What an awful realization for a twelve-year-old to have.

“Miss?” a high-pitched voice asked. Marinette bolted upright, looking around wildly. “Down here.” 

Marinette glanced down to see a small blue creature, red eyes wide and… were those Feathers? It floated above a bound yellow folder, string wrapped tight with a thick knot in front. 

“Uh, what?” Came Marinette’s eloquent reaction. The creature looked… Similar to Plagg, maybe. A large head, a small floating body. But this creature was missing the ethereal fire and smoke that surrounded Plagg, hiding his exact silhouette. Instead, this Kwami seemed to just… exist. “Who are you? What are you doing on my balcony?”

“My name is Duusu, Miss.” The Kwami rose to eye level. “I’m the Peacock Kwami. Lady Vue is…” The Kwami drooped. “Lady Vue left you this.” The Kwami gestured to the Folder. Marinette bent over to pick it up, surprised at how heavy it was. 

“What… is this?” Marinette asked. The Kwami said nothing, simply gesturing to the folder again. With trepidation, Marinette untied the knot and unwound the folder, opening it and seeing a ring-bound stack of laminated papers. They were colored photocopies of a book, one with strange pictures and written with a language Marinette didn’t know. Characters looped and pointed down sharply. 

At the very end of the folder was an envelope, smaller than a normal white one, made of thick brown paper and closed with string. ‘DO NOT OPEN UNTIL DUUSU EXPLAINS!’ was written on with a thick red marker. 

“Explains… what?” Marinette turned to Duusu, who had tears welling up in its eyes.

“Well, Miss…” Duusu looks around. “Can we talk in your room?”

“Um, sure?”

Marinette led the Kwami into her room, Plagg nowhere to be seen. “Hey, Plagg, we have a visitor.” 

A black head poked out of a small window, green eyes wide. “What? Who would be—”

“Plagg!” Duusu zipped forward, so gleeful and cheery. “I’m so glad you’re okay! The last time we met was awful! I felt so bad for you! But you must be all good now! ‘Cause Lady Vue said that you were in excellent hands and I believed her and now look at you! You finally have a body!” Duusu wrapped its feathered arms around the confused void. 

Marinette sat down on her chaise, opening the folder to look at the pictures while Plagg and Duusu… Caught up. Inside were strange costumes, A Chinese woman in bright red and black spots. A fox outfit with a strange Samurai vibe. A Peacock dressed like a hooded monk. Miraculous? A Miraculous book? How did Lady Vue find one of these? And why give it to Marinette? And how did Lady Vue know to give it to Marinette in the first place?

“Duusu.” The call broke the Kwami’s conversation (well, really, Duusu’s never-ending chattering and Plagg’s confused grunts), “I think you should explain what this is.”

Duusu pulled away from Plagg, and hovered closer to Marinette. “Lady Vue gave me a list of things to tell you. And a list of things I cannot tell you.” Duusu’s sudden seriousness startled Marinette. “First, Lady Vue followed you home the night you met. That’s how she knew your identity. Second, that book is one of the only copies of the Guardian’s Tome. Lady Vue could not give you her copy, so she had to make one for you. Three… L-Lady Vue won’t… she… gave you the Peacock Miraculous. She won’t be n-needing it anymore.” Duusu started to cry. “But it is very, very important that you don’t wear it! ‘Cause—”

“Wait!” Marinette held up a hand. “You’re going too fast. Let me think.”

“Of course, Miss.”

Marinette looked back at her new book. At the envelope in the back. With shaky hands, Marinette unwrapped the envelope, and pulled out a small piece of paper, holding a brooch. Five white rays splayed out like a sunrise, or the feathers of a peacock. A modern art piece that looked like it was worth money. 

“I can’t wear this?” Marinette asked, not looking up.

“No. My Miraculous is broken.” Duusu explained. “A long long long long time ago, one of Plagg’s users used Cataclysm on the brooch, and now it doesn’t work right, and it kills whoever wears it.”

Cold realization rushed through the young girl. Lady Vue wouldn’t need the Miraculous anymore… meaning she was dead. She was dead and decided that Marinette deserved a book about Miraculous and the Brooch that killed her. 

“Cataclysm?” Marinette echoed, turning to Plagg, somehow looking pale, despite being no less black than before.

“...A power I have.” Plagg’s voice was quiet. “it destroys stuff. I… didn’t want to tell you. Sorry.” he flickered, his form becoming obscured.

“I’m not mad.” Marinette reassured him. She truly wasn’t. Of course that was something that Plagg would keep to himself. Instead, she turned back to Duusu. “And… what is this book? The, uh, Guardian Tome?” 

Duusu nodded. “A Guardian is someone who watches over many Miraculous and is in charge of handing them out to those who wield the Miraculous to their fullest potential.”

“The Order Of the Guardians were a stuffy old group who lived in a temple in the mountains.” Plagg explained. “They’re who we entrusted our powers to. They care for us, and watch over us. And in that book…” Plagg blinked, going silent. 

Duusu continued, “That book has knowledge about the Zodiac Miraculous, and the seven elemental Miraculous. It tells you about Kwami’s and how to care for them, and how to use each Miraculous, and other things like that!”

Marinette huffed, information swirling around in her mind. Just this morning she was making a friend, drawing a Pokémon and dreading a certain blonde brat. Now there was a whole Order and a dead woman and a second Miraculous? One that Marinette couldn’t wear, or she would die.

“I think it’s snack time.”

“Ooh! I love Almonds!”

Tibetan, it turns out, is a lot harder to translate into French than Chinese. Or at least, whatever type of special Tibetan this tome was written in. Marinette looked up the script, and whatever was written here had more dashes, more swirls. As If it were trying to be a secret language. Which it was, technically.

“How am I supposed to use this?” Marinette spent almost every afternoon after school trying to learn Tibetan so she could somehow learn this Order Tibetan, which was steadier said than done. 

“Don’t worry about it, Bread,” Plagg rested in her hair. “You translated your ring, I’m sure you can do this too.”

Marinette paused. What had happened to those books? Where did she put them? She stepped away from her desk, and started digging through her drawers of sketchbooks and scraps of fabrics that she’d started collecting. But there were no translation books or journals to be seen.

“What are you looking for?” Duusu asked, grinning widely, an unnerving display of sharp teeth that peacocks definitely shouldn’t have.

“A journal and a translation book, from Chinese to French.” Plagg explained, zipping through random boxes and containers full of random stuff. “Geez Bread, you need to organize this stuff!” Plagg scoffed, and Marinette had a few thoughts about how he organized his dollhouse. 

“Hey! What about this?” Duusu poked its head out of one of the desk drawers, and Marinette bent down to open the drawer. It was full of sketchbooks, but Duusu nudged something at the bottom. Sure enough, the small journal and translation book were there, pressed flat by the sketchbooks. 

“Yeah! Thanks Duusu.” Marinette smiled, pulling out the journal. She flipped through the pages, looking at the hanzi. The script looked like normal Chinese characters, nothing off about them. But after getting through more than half of the book, the Chinese changed into that now familiar Tibetan script.

“Of course.” Marinette flatly remarked. “Of course, this stupid journal has the answer somehow.”

Plagg stilled, green eyes wide, like a cat caught on camera in the night. “Yeah…” Plagg drifted closer. “Lucky.” He didn’t seem happy anymore. 

Marinette is not supposed to be his holder. Plagg was aware of this. He was aware when he saw the child create clothes and creatures and patterns. He was aware when he saw Marinette’s luck manifest itself in Nathaniel and the Journal. He was aware as Marinette started to use the Chinese in the journal to crack the Tibetan, and then worked through the Tome. 

Plagg was supportive of his holder. He was, truly. He cheered for her successes, mourned for her failures, and encouraged Marinette to become the best person she could be. 

But the Tome made Plagg afraid. He flickered more often, tense and on edge. What did the Guardians say about him? Did they call him a beast, a creature of pure evil, a Demon like Chiyou, or like the Christian Lucifer? A force of nature that had the potential to be good and pure, but led to nothing but corruption, destruction, and death.

Sure, Marinette knew of Plagg’s past, but she didn’t really know. It was difficult to have a twelve-year-old understand the true horror that Plagg has witnessed. And who knows how much the Guardians added to the story? How much got embellished or twisted?

Still, Plagg merely watched on, as Marinette slowly translated the book.

Chapter Text

     Tuesday November 22, 2011

Marinette was too stubborn to realize she may have bitten off more than she could chew. Translating a normal language, like Chinese, was a simple task. But translating a fanciful secret language that’s based on a language that Marinette had no experience in whatsoever? It was a Herculean task that she had assigned herself. Marinette had tried to figure out how to turn Tibetan into Chinese, and then did her best to compare the book to classic Tibetan. It was difficult, making her want to hit her head against the wall many, many times. 

“Are you okay?” Nathaniel asked, breaking his often days-long silence. His brows were furrowed, and his sketchbook was bare.

Marinette waved a hand nonchalantly, tenser than ever. “Haha, no, I’m fine! Just… learning a new language.” Marinette sighed. Was Nathaniel allowed to know about that? She knew he wasn’t supposed to know about Plagg, or the Miraculous, but surely Tibetan was all right?

“A new language?” Nathaniel blinked. “Like Chinese?” He started to sketch a little, a sign he was either unwilling to talk, or no longer worried about his friend. 

“No, I already know a bit of Chinese.” Marinette smiled. “It’s Tibetan.” 

Nathaniel’s eyebrows rose. “What? What language is that?”

“They speak it in Tibet. It’s right next to China.” Marinette looked away, starting to doodle on her own sheet of paper. She was a lot more careful about doodling Plagg or Duusu now, after Nathaniel caught her when they first met a few weeks back. Today she stuck with simple flowers, roses with thorns and striped carnations.

Chloe was making a scene in the front of class. Marinette didn’t dare pay attention, only making sure Chloe didn’t approach. The blonde had been unusually quiet the past few weeks, something just drawing her away from bullying Marinette. But she wasn’t complaining. 

“Isn’t someone a teacher?” Nathaniel murmured. 

“What?” Marinette eyed her friend. He was looking around the classroom, studying the students. 

“Like, a language teacher, or something like that? We saw him on career day.” 

Marinette blinked. “Oh, yeah.” She looked over her classroom again, trying to remember who it was. He was tall and had an eccentric personality. But how he actually looked? Marinette was unsure. But now she knew to keep an eye out for whoever this language teacher was.. 

“Hey, Plagg?”

Plagg sat under a desk lamp, basking in the warmth and slowly falling asleep. But the kid had a question, of course. She had been obsessing over the book for a few years now. She was still trying to find a reliable way to translate it into Tibetan and Chinese. Of course, Marinette had no success.

“Yes, Bread?” Plagg opened an eye.

“Why isn’t there a picture of you in here?” Marinette flipped through the pages. Plagg sighed. He hated that book. Something all the kwami’s got to know about? Something that surely had a passage about how horrible and evil he was? Plagg was trying to escape his past, but it seemed determined to follow him everywhere.

“I was taken before that book was written.” He answered with a flat voice. “There’s probably a paragraph or something in there warning you about me.” He turned over and tried to get back to sleep.

“There isn’t.” Duusu chimed in. “They didn’t want people to try to capture you and die. So only Masters got to know about you, and your story was passed down for generations.”

“Great.” Plagg grumbled. He was some horrible secret. 

“Plagg, don’t worry. Nothing anyone says will make me hate you.” A warm hand scratched behind his ears. “I’ve been with you for years, and you’ve been kind.”

Plagg wasn’t reassured. One day, the kid will realize he’s more trouble than he’s worth. 

     Tuesday January 17, 2012

Snow fell. The mountaintops reached above the clouds, a warm song breezing between the peaks. She leapt, running gracefully on the balls of her feet, fingers brushing the stars, the moon as her halo. The sky was black, a void that revealed the galaxies within. 

“Come to me.” The universe called, grand and holy, reverberating throughout her bones. “Come, Godling.” 

She ran faster, breathing in the aurora light. Her rib cage could barely contain her heart, bearing louder with every step, rushing in her ears and over taking the rhythm of her body. 

The tallest peak was nearing, only a few moments away. Something beyond the final ridge was glowing with the power of a sun, turning the sky blue, battling the void that brought her comfort.

“I’m coming!” She pleaded. “Wait for me!”

Then something pulled at her leg, and she lost her graceful balance and started to fall. She held her hands out to catch herself, wincing at the burning snow.

Her stomach dropped, and Marinette jerked awake, ready to catch herself from falling. But there wasn’t any darkness, just the bright winter light filtering through her classroom’s windows.

Nathaniel stood near the desk, his lips curved into a small smile. “Are you okay?”

Marinette blinked, eyelids heavy and face feeling puffy. “Did I sleep?” She mumbled, hoarse. “What time is it?”

“We just ended last period. I was waiting for you at the door, but after a few minutes, I had to check on you. Again.” Nathaniel tilted his head.

“Oh. Sorry.” Marinette gathered her things hurriedly, face flushed. It had been a horrible thing happening recently. Falling asleep and dreaming about snow and lights. It wasn’t supposed to snow in Paris for a few more weeks yet. She had asked Plagg and Duusu about the dreams, but neither of them had any idea about it. So the dreams weren’t a Miraculous thing, or an environmental thing. 

Maybe Marinette needed to slow down her imagination.

“How was class?” Despite them sharing a homeroom, Nathaniel took a few different classes after lunch time, meaning Marinette had to sit alone in the back of each class. 

Nathaniel shrugged. “I drew a Samurott. From the new Pokémon game.”

“That’s cool! You should show me later, I haven’t played them yet.” Marinette led the way out of the classroom and into the hall. 

“Another dream?” Duusu asked, reading over Marinette’s shoulder as she wrote down what little she could remember. 

“I was close to the top this time.” Marinette sighed, doodling a sweater in the margins of her cheap notebook. “You’re sure this has nothing to do with you guys? It always happens like this in the stories.”

“Do we look like stories to you?” Plagg scoffed. Marinette shook her head. No, the void-cat in her hair was real, a weight that rested atop her head. The God resting on her shoulder was real. Very… very real.

     Wednesday January 18, 2012

She managed to stay awake today. Marinette glanced at the kwami in her bag, making sure he was comfortable. The girl felt guilty for Duusu, who had to stay at home.

Another reason to find a way to translate the book. There had to be a clue to fixing the brooch in there somewhere.

The bell rang, and Marinette jumped to her feet, already packed and ready to head off. She avoided Chloe and Kim, and did her best not to bump into any other students. Marinette spotted Nathaniel standing by the main school exit, chatting with another boy in a bright purple hoodie. Huh, Marinette didn’t know Nathaniel had other friends. He seemed almost too shy for Marinette.

Something burned in Marinette’s throat. She slowly approached the two, something in her stomach shaking in a nauseating way. 

“Dad!” Someone bumped into Marinette, looking back and smirking at her. A girl with auburn hair, someone Marinette faintly recognized as a friend of Chloe. But the girl ran up to a tall man, wearing glasses and a tacky suit. Something about him seemed familiar, and important. 

“Hey Marinette!” Nathaniel approached, his other friend nowhere to be seen. “Did you stay awake this time?”

Marinette forced a grin. “Yeah. I did. Do you know who that is?” She nodded her head towards the tall man, who started to walk away with his daughter.

“I know Alix, she’s in the art room after school.” Nathaniel hummed. “Why?”

Marinette shrugged. “Her dad seems familiar.”

Nathaniel hummed, and walked along, Marinette following him, since he passed by her house to get home. Marinette shivered. It hadn’t snowed yet, but Marinette was willing to bet the winter would come by the end of the week. 

“Could I visit the art room tomorrow?” 

Nathaniel huffed. “You don’t have to ask me? I’m not in charge of the art room.”

She felt her cheeks warm, and Marinette was very aware of the fact that she was a sort of outcast. Chloe had calmed down, but the damage done in elementary school was nowhere close to healing. What if the art room was Nathaniel’s haven away from her? But what if Marinette voices her fears, and Nathaniel thinks she’s stupid? Or what if he thinks that he does want her to stay away? What if he suddenly sees whatever Chloe sees and he ruins what scraps of papers Marinette has left to draw on?

“I mean, you’re welcome to come. I’m sure clothes can count as art.” 

Or maybe Marinette really needs to get her mind under control.

     Thursday January 19, 2012

The Art room was empty save for a short girl with headphones in, sat in the corner. Around the room were Canvases and easels with large sheets of paper, and even a sculpture that seemed to be a four-legged animal of some kind, but its head was shapeless. 

Marinette wanted to talk to Alix, to figure out why her dad looked familiar. But Alix wasn’t here yet, so Marinette just had to wait with a random student who had no clue she was here. How creepy, but she really didn’t want to disrupt. 

“Who are you?” Marinette jumped and spun around, coming face to face to another short kid, a boy with blue eyes and a scowl. 

“I-I’m Marinette.” She answered, shoulders to her ears. “I’m with Nathaniel.” The girl with the headphones walked past, giving the boy a smile. They looked related, maybe twins, if not just siblings. The boy gave his sister a warm glance, then turned back to Marinette.

“Don’t mess with anything. Or else.” He threatened. Marinette blinked, eyes wide. He was no taller than Marinette was herself, but he had an aura that seemed larger than even Chloe’s.

“Luka, knock it off.” Alix smirked, holding a duffle bag full of metal things. Spray paint? Following Alix is Nathaniel and the kid with a purple hoodie. “Hey new kid. Nathaniel says you’re his friend?” Alix looked back at the redhead, as if to make sure Marinette was the correct person.

Nathaniel nodded. “Mari, this is Alix, Luka, Juleka, and Niles.” He pointed at each student in turn. 

“What art do you do?” The kid in the purple hoodie, Niles, asked, entering the rest of the way into the Art room. He sat at the clay statue, checking it over.

“Um, Fashion.” Marinette watched as everyone seemed to move as one, all toward their own stations. Niles and Nathaniel had paper on easels, Luka and Juleka gravitated towards a single canvas, and Alix walked over to the far wall, where it seemed to be just one big board covered in spray paint.

“Cool! There’s paper over there, and art horses or easels over there.” Niles directed, then he put in earbuds and started sculpting.

Marinette found herself standing alone, unsure and unsteady. She originally had a mission, but Alix was already painting, a mess of cans and fingers and the odd brush. 

“I don’t draw at school?” Marinette mumbled, looking at Nathaniel, begging for help.

“Why not?” Luka was still scowling, one of the few students without music in his ears. 

“Oh, um…” A nudge against her leg caught her attention, but Marinette didn’t dare look down at Plagg right now. “Chloe always ruined my art supplies?”

“Chloe isn’t here.” Luka raised an eyebrow. “She’s not allowed.”

Marinette glanced at Alix. “Doesn’t she hang out with Alix?” The girl in question turned around, a can of blue in hand. 

“I have to be nice to Chloe ‘cause my old man said so,” Alix defended herself. “She thinks ‘cause she has important parents, she’s important too.”

Marinette nodded absent-mindedly. This was an in. “Why does your dad want you to be nice?” 

Alix shrugged and returned to her painting. “He runs an exhibit at the Louvre. It’d suck to have the mayor shut it down.”

There. He works at the Louvre. Marinette will find him and ask him about Tibet, and pray that he knows a way to an answer. But that would have to be later. Right now, Marinette needed to draw. She slowly gathered paper and a pencil, sitting next to Nathaniel. A chill clutched at the girl’s ribs as she gently sketched a tree. Lightly, easy to miss walking past. A blonde will come in with cruel ice eyes. She will destroy everything. 

Marinette sighed. Her lines became darker, more… finite. Someone’s earbuds were spilling music, so faint that she couldn’t pick up the genre. It was getting darker earlier. Her pencils started to sketch flames, dark and familiar. The tree looked… familiar. But Marinette didn’t feel like pondering that fact. She’s drawing, something she hasn’t felt comfortable doing in so long. Maybe she can pick fashion back up, design outfits that she’d want to make one day. 

Perhaps she could get a sewing machine. Make her doodles a reality. Create something... beautiful.

The flames on her tree weren’t shaded or rendered in any way, but Marinette knew they would be black like her companion, her friend. Sucking in light and giving nothing. 

This weekend, she’ll find Alix’s dad. Then everything would work out. Hopefully.

“So, how was the Art room?” Nathaniel asked an hour later. “I’ve never seen you draw that much before.”

Marinette smiled. “I’ve never felt comfortable drawing before.” 

Nathaniel didn’t say anything, simply walking beside his friend. Maybe he hated sharing his space with Marinette? Maybe he was happy to see her draw? Of course, she couldn’t draw as well as him. But maybe Nathaniel felt pity towards her. Pity was better than resentment or annoyance.

Chapter Text

     Saturday January 21, 2012

That Saturday, Marinette was on a mission. She had her backpack, with the Journal and Duusu’s brooch inside. The decision to bring them was a last-minute thing, something that Plagg heavily disapproved of.

“What if someone sees them?” Plagg cried.

“What if someone sees you?” Marinette countered. Plagg sputtered, clearly still against the idea. “Duusu has been stuck here for months, and they know the most about the Guardian book right now.” Marinette placed the cardstock that held the five point brooch in her bag, leaving no room for arguments. 

The Louvre stood tall, glass sparkling and clean. Marinette made her way into the lobby, immediately on the hunt for the tall man. She looked around and decided to head for an Asian-looking exhibit. 

As usual, the museum was grand, fancy, and packed with people. Marinette, being short and only a young girl, couldn’t push her way around the crowd, leading her to stay close to the walls, eyes peeled.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.” Marinette muttered, looking at the prints and pottery fragments. 

“Even if the man you’re looking for can’t help you, I’m sure someone else could!” Duusu ignored the exhibits, opposite of Plagg, whose eyes kept darting around.

“Hide!” Marinette hushed, twisting to zip up her backpack, only to then run into someone. “Sorry!” She turned around, only to find Alex’s dad.

How lucky.

“Oh! I’m sorry. Excuse me.” The man mumbled, already on his way.

“Wait!” Marinette weaved through the crowd, target in sight. “I need to talk to you!” but it seemed that the man didn’t hear her, leading down a flight of stairs, where this part of the museum was significantly less crowded. Now able to run, Marinette ran, managing to grab the Sleeve of his gray suit. “Please, I need to talk to you!”

The man turned, face set in a frown. “Miss, I am currently helping with the construction of a new exhibit. You can find tour guides on the first floor, who will be delighted to answer your questions.”

“Do you know any Tibetan languages?” Marinette ignored his denial and swiftly pulled out the journal. 

“What do you mean? There are many languages that fall under Tibetan.” The man seemed to have stopped running away, truly curious about whatever this small child was going on about.

“I mean, this one?” Marinette opens the journal to a random page and turns the book around. “I was thinking someone at the museum could help me, and I know you’re Alix’s dad, so I was wondering if you could help me translate this?”

The man took the journal, scrutinizing the journal, flipping through the pages, eyes squinting even more when he realized the first half was Mandarin. “Where did you get this?” His voice was quiet, maybe curious? Or suspicious?

“A family heirloom.” Marinette suddenly had the realization that she had no clue what exactly the journal said. If the language was Miraculous-specific, then could the journal have information that could jeopardize Marinette’s secret? 

The man was silent, thinking hard, eyes darting around the pages and tapping his foot. Marinette felt the tiny gods in her backpack wriggle around, obviously trying to hear what was going on. The few people passing by gave them a glance before going on their way. 

“My name is Alim Kubdel.” He snaps the journal close and hands it back to Marinette. “And while I cannot read the language, I think we have something in the storage rooms that will give us the ability to. Follow me.” Alim starts to walk away, and Marinette speeds after him, his long strides equaling about one and a half of her own.

The two walked down another set of stairs, this one small and unfurnished, not intended for customer use. It led to a small and simple hallway, with a custodial closet and another door labeled Employees Only. Alim opened the last door with a key, and held the door open, letting Marinette inside.

Simple fluorescents buzzed on with a click of a switch, revealing a bunch of boxes and paintings and sculptures on shelves, many dusty and covered in cobwebs. Alim led to the third shelf in, on the left, and opened a box, pulling out an old and slightly burnt Tapestry.

“This was found in the ruins of a temple in Tibet, one that archeologists haven’t been able to understand. They didn’t have a clear form of worship, seeming to focus a lot on meditation and martial arts. A lot of their tapestries, like this one, tell a story of various animals coming down to become spiritual guides to the worthy. Traditional Asian spirits like dragons and foxes, but then there are some unusual spirits, like butterflies and bees.

“The language on this tapestry shows both ancient Tibetan script, as well as the new version that is in your book.” Alim stretched out the tapestry, revealing a beautiful piece picturing a fox and a white butterfly. “The script states ‘And after the Heart found its master, the fox and the Butterfly came down to bless even more, until enlightenment.’”

Marinette stared at the fox. Faintly, a small shape rested in the center of the fox’s chest. One similar enough to Plagg And Duusu for Marinette to be sure it was a depiction of a Kwami. 

So, a temple? To train those who used the Kwami as a spiritual guide? A guide to enlightenment? Plagg was like a guide, a Guardian Angel. Duusu too, even though Marinette was nowhere near as close to them as she was with Plagg.

“Other tapestries talked about other spirits, right?” Marinette voiced her statement like a guess. She definitely didn’t want Alim to know he was currently in the presence of two of these spirits. 

“I’m sure, but this was the only one that we have received.” Alim shook his head sadly. Slowly, he pointed to the text underneath the fox, the familiar looping script. “Some assume this Script repeats, but in the language of the temple. Maybe this was used to teach the youth or newcomers both the temple’s beliefs and their language, like a modern day kids’ show.”

“Can I take a picture?” Marinette asks, pulling a cheap camera from her backpack’s side pocket, the kind that still used film. 

Alim hesitated. Obviously, this was a breach of policy. Something rare and not for the public, in the hands of a young girl? He’d be breaking all sorts of rules. But… this young girl had a journal, perhaps a clue to this tapestry that was previously unknown. The mystery burned in the man’s soul, the desire to know what was in that journal.

“How about,” Marinette could see the man’s mind racing. “You can take a picture, provided you absolutely do not share it with anyone else. And in return, you come back every… week, and we can translate that journal you have. I want to know more about this language, as I’m sure you do. What do you say?”

Now Marinette had to pause and think. She was still unsure of what the journal said. There was no explanation on exactly why her ancestor’s journal contained a rare language that seemed to be tied to the Kwami’s and the Miraculous. Perhaps her finding of the ring was more than mere luck. Perhaps she was destined to be reunited with something that had been lost long ago. But… did she want to risk Alim knowing?

“Can I think about it?” 

She came home to an empty house. On the fridge was a note from her father, something about catering. Marinette paid it no mind. She simply took the chance to have the Kwami out of her room for once. Plagg and Duusu, predictably, headed straight for the fruit bowl. No one said anything, leaving Marinette’s thoughts to run in circles.

The same fears, the same pros and cons. She desperately wanted to take the offer. 

“It said my name.” Duusu’s small voice pierced the silence. “Mr. Kubdel said Heart, but the Guardian Script said my name. And Nooroo’s and Trixx’s names. I don’t think he knows how to translate Guardian Script.”

“You could read your name?” Marinette, for a wild moment, wondered if Duusu could read the Tome from the very beginning. 

“I know my name. But that’s it.” Duusu correctly guessed what Marinette was thinking.

“Oh.” The girl sighed, lying down on the couch. “What do you guys think?” 

The Kwami’s were silent for a moment. Maybe they were looking at each other, quietly arguing.

“I think you should take the deal.” Duusu answered. “If the journal happens to say something revealing, then just treat it like you would any other religious book.”

“The Guardians did worship us,” Plagg added. “You should be fine.”

Should be fine. Marinette still had her doubts, but the Kwami were literal gods. “I’ll tell Alim tomorrow then.”

This marked the beginning of a new routine. Wake up, go to school, stay in the art room after school, and on Saturdays and Thursdays, Marinette would meet with Alim and slowly unravel the journal. Then she came home and used what she learned that day on the Guardian Tome.

It worked for weeks, Marinette slowly learning both languages at a pace that even Alim was alarmed by. 

“You must be a linguistic prodigy!” He’d declare, and Marinette would smile and silently doubt his words, remembering how difficult it was to translate the ring when she was younger.

She got to know Alix a little better as well. They weren’t as close as she was to Nathaniel, of course. But they weren’t strangers anymore, sometimes walking together to the Kubdel home after hanging out in the art room.

“Why do you spend so much time at my house?” Alix asked one day, balancing on a low stone wall. 

“He’s tutoring me.” Marinette answered simply.

“Oh.”

Alix sometimes sat in during the lessons. She didn’t seem to pay attention all that much, But Marinette enjoyed getting to know her a little bit more, even if she was still on Chloe’s side at school.

It turned out that the Journal was a story about a man who found the Guardian Temple, and was documenting his findings, and ultimate conversion. He was vague enough about the Miraculous for Marinette to feel comfortable about returning to Alim every week. Her great grandfather didn’t seem to be someone who was destined for a Miraculous, but he seemed happy to help raise the younger monks, and teach them meditation (using techniques that Marinette then used herself.)

Marinette’s great grandfather was connected to the Miraculous, and the Journal was proof. 

“Was I destined to be yours?” she asked Plagg, hunched over the Guardian Tome, writing down her translation.

“I don’t think so,” Plagg answered. “I don’t think I’m destined for anyone.”

     Thursday June 28, 2012

The last week of school. It’s Thursday, and Marinette is sitting in the Art room, which has long been empty. The journal was fully translated, and the Tome was halfway finished. 

“What are you doing here?” A familiar nasal voice broke the silence. Marinette whipped around, only to see Chloe standing in the room, the door slowly closing behind her. Her eyes are icy, and they strike a fear that Marinette was accustomed to.

“What?” Marinette didn’t stand up.

“Class was let out like, three hours ago.” Chloe glanced at the clock on the wall. “What are you doing here?” 

Marinette couldn’t… understand. It was her first Thursday not going to Alim’s. And her parents weren’t home. There was only so much Marinette could do before she transformed and crawled through the skylight.

“Why do you care?” Marinette asked, uncharacteristically calm. 

Chloe just rolled her eyes. “I don’t. I wasn’t expecting anyone here. Not everything is about you, Cheng.” 

Marinette ignored how the name made her feel. It wasn’t a proper French name, not like Dupain or Bourgeois. Decidedly marked the young girl as Other.

The ring on her finger was similar, in that sense. No one else had a miraculous, had a God older than time resting in their backpack. For a wild moment, Marinette wanted to give the brooch to Chloe. To have someone else understand the odd world that Marinette found herself in. A world that Marinette had barely scratched the surface of. 

But the Peacock brooch was broken. It would kill whoever touched it. And Marinette didn’t trust Chloe to be the companion the lonely girl craved.

“Whatever. Go wallow somewhere else.” Chloe scoffed, turning around and leaving Marinette alone.

Her house was quiet. Her parents were in London, leaving the bakery under the care of employees Marinette didn’t know. 

Duusu rested on her collarbone, humming a song that reminded Marinette of stars. Plagg was looking over the Guardian tome, black flames flickering. 

“There should be something to fix the brooch in here somewhere, right?” He grumbled, looking between the basic translation guide Marinette drew up and the Tome. “Then Bread could have a friend.”

Marinette’s heartbeat was slow. Duusu didn’t want to leave the sleeping girl. “She’s more lonely than Miss A–...” Bubbles left their mouth, disrupting the name she was about to say. “Lady Vue.” Duusu finished lamely, clearing her throat. 

“Well, I’m gonna find a way to help her.” Plagg declared, flames growing bigger. Not for the first time, Duusu wonders how much Plagg remembered about his Pre-miraculous life. It seemed the poor Kwami blocked A lot out, in exchange for mental peace. 

“Your ring helped her translate the journal, you know,” Duusu supplied. 

Plagg hovered closer, leaving the Tome behind. “Whaddya mean?”

They sighed. “The Ladybug stands for earth, stable and known. The B–” Duusu cut themself off. “You stand for Fire, unpredictable and unknown. Fire burns away whatever walls humanity built and discovers new walls that weren’t known. Devouring libraries and rebuilding cities.”

Plagg raised an eyebrow, something he shouldn’t be able to do since he had none, but it was an expression he picked up from humans, nonetheless. “What are you talking about?” He flickers. Again, how much has he blocked out?

Duusu shrugs, letting the topic be.

     Monday July 23, 2012

“Plagg, Claws Out!” 

Ange Noir climbed out of her skylight and started her daily path around her section of the city. Since it was summer, she had taken to patrolling around sunset, and seeing if there was anything she could do to help her fellow citizens. The Guardian Tome had said that the Miraculous were supposed to be used for the enlightenment of humanity, but Marinette was only a thirteen-year-old girl. So, helping cats out of trees and stopping small-time thieves would have to do for now.

Three weeks into summer, and Marinette was starting to make a difference.

Ange Noir launched herself to the top of a church, not as grand as Notre Dame, but a gorgeous cathedral nonetheless. Looking around, there was the after hours rush, everyone hurrying to buy things before stores closed, or heading their way home. With watchful eyes and super sensitive ears, Ange Noir watched.

“Hey!” a male voice called. Ange Noir jumped and looked down to see an older man with his younger daughter looking up at the Vigilante. “You’re that Angel person, right?” 

Ange Noir paused. She was supposed to be a secret, or hidden in some sense. But it would be really rude to ignore this man. Slowly, Ange Noir moved to a lower spire, into the dying rays of sunlight. “Yes, I am.”

The Man grinned. “My daughter loves you! You saved her ball from the Seine!” He turned to the young girl holding his hand.

Oh, Ange Noir definitely remembered that. She remembered not being able to swim as well as she was used to. It was one of the many times she wished she had translated the special power-ups that the Tome mentioned.

“How are you?” Ange Noir asked the young girl. She was about six or seven, with short blonde hair, wearing a pale pink sundress. The girl smiled, but hid behind her father, clearly a shy one, even to her supposed hero. Or maybe that’s why she was so shy. If Marinette ever got to meet Gabriel Agreste or Audrey Bourgeois in person, Marinette would likely explode, or faint.

“I hope you’re doing good!” Ange Noir answered for the girl, and then got to her feet. “I have to finish my patrol, but I hope you have a good evening!” And with a small salute, Ange Noir used her baton to rise above the city, using forward momentum to fall across the rooftops, landing with grace and agility, ready to bound away again. 

A few people cheered as she left, and Marinette grinned.

Wang Fu was not grinning. He’d heard rumors of a cat hero, and thought nothing of it. A Miraculous outside of his box, one he had no responsibility over. Simple as that. If this Cat were to be trouble, well… 

Fu did have the Turtle Bracelet. 

But standing in the square, buying candles for his shop, staring up at familiar green eyes, at a familiar and haunting silhouette. 

The Beast. It had taken control of a young girl, someone without the wisdom and knowledge that Fu had. She was obviously still innocent and youthful. Maybe the Beast was biding its time before it caused havoc… after all, what is a few years to a God? And pretending to be a hero? Why, that’s diabolical! Garnering the faith of countless citizens, only to then rip it away by the coming carnage and destruction?

Fu could not have that.

With a sigh, Fu put down the items in his hands, and headed off to find a secured alley.

Ange Noir wasn’t as naïve as she used to be. After being told that Lady Vue had followed her home, Ange Noir had done her best to be more aware of her surroundings. And it seemed the Cat Miraculous was good for that, seeing things in the dark, hearing strengthened, the ability to hide being absolutely great.

So it didn’t take too long for Ange to realize that she was being followed. Sure, this person was stealthy, but she was observant. So with a huff, Ange Noir leapt out of sight, and quickly hid behind a chimney, watching for someone to pass by, someone to get ambushed. 

And sure enough, after a few moments, a short man wearing a green gi came into view, crouched and clearly suspicious. He was probably aware of the trap, but he had no way of knowing where the attack was coming from. His hat looked like a turtle shell. 

“I know you’re there.” The Turtle man called, anger and a promise of violence grating his voice. “Come out now, and I promise to be merciful.” 

Ange Noir knew this was a lie. This man obviously was a Miraculous Holder; He had no other way of following her otherwise. It was incredibly upsetting that this was the second one that she’s met, and this was another adult to boot. Ange Noir stayed put, ready to strike but unwilling to lose too fast. But the Turtle man continued.

“I am willing to hope you have no idea what you’ve come across.” Ange’s breath hitched. “I am sure the creature you’ve found was persuasive, and seemed harmless. But let me assure you, he wants nothing but the death and destruction of everyone you know.”

Ange Noir glared with as much fury as her thirteen-year-old body could hold. How dare this man insult Plagg like that! Plagg wasn’t a manipulative terror out of hell. He was like a stray cat, so surprised and grateful that someone had left out food and water for him.

She wanted to jump out, to protect her friend, but she knew, she knew there was a time and a place, and this was not it. Carefully, Ange Noir slipped away and made sure to stay within the shadows. She really wanted to detransform, but the fear of the turtle man finding Marinette and putting the pieces together was too great. 

What should I do? Why is he after me? Ange Noir searched around blindly, looking for a place that had lots of people but was sparse enough that she could turn back into Marinette without being seen.

In the end, a small square holding a party of some sort came into view, and Ange Noir wasted no time detransforming and inserting Marinette into the pleasantries.

The Turtle Man was nowhere to be seen, and after an hour of nothing, Marinette made her way home.

“What was that?” Marinette dared to ask Plagg. The subway car was empty, and she was almost home. It took hours to catch a ride, and it was easily nearing midnight. 

“A Guardian, a Turtle Sensei if I’ve ever seen One.” Plagg grumbled. The party had snacks, but he’d eaten all the snacks Marinette dared to stash away a while ago. 

“So, what, am I just not allowed to be Ange any more?” Marinette was so tense, hands shaking and eyes pricking with warmth. “I like being Ange Noir! I like helping people! Why would he take that away from me? Why would he take you away from me?”

“Kid, I’m the Avatar Of Destruction and Fire.” Plagg rested a paw on one of Marinette’s hands. “That man was probably raised thinking I was Evil Incarnate. He was only trying to save you.”

“Would he let me explain?” Marinette wanted to plead, wanted to cry in desire. 

“No, he wouldn’t.” Plagg sighed, knowing that Marinette already knew the answer. “He’d rip away the ring the moment he realized.”

Marinette said nothing. She needed to do something. Something that let her be a hero while avoiding the Turtle man. 

It was one in the morning when Marinette snuck into the bakery, slipping into her home and climbing the ladder to reach her room. She was so exhausted, tired and scared and frantically thinking down a million paths that all led nowhere. She needed to do something, and she needed to prepare and she needed to sleep and she needed to pretend nothing was wrong.

“Where were you?” Duusu rested on Marinette’s bed. “You normally come home earlier.” 

Marinette didn’t respond, getting into her bunk bed, letting the kwami cuddle into her and her blankets. Plagg whispered something, probably explaining the situation. But Marinette didn’t bother listening in. She just took deep breaths and closed her eyes. Praying that sleep could come.

Chapter Text

     Wednesday July 25, 2012

He lights a single candle resting on a shelf, right below one of the few tapestries that Fu could gather before the Guardian Temple was destroyed. It’s dark outside, and rain hits the windows, rattling the wooden frame of the massage parlor. 

Fu steps back from his makeshift altar, examining the decor for the thousandth time. Slowly, he makes his way to his gramophone, the box that houses all the Miraculous from the Tibetan Box. All but three. The Peacock, the Butterfly, and the Beast. 

The usual pains of guilt and regret surface in the old man’s body, his eyes prickling and his stomach feeling empty. The Butterfly and the Peacock missing was his mistake, one that he prayed every day would be rectified. But the Beast?

Wang Fu was born and raised in the Temple. Grew up as a monk, was told that one day, he might be chosen to wield a God. The promise was held over his head until he was a young adult, when he was told that his position would be a mere teacher’s assistant. Someone to babysit the children who knew oh so little. The calling was insulting, a disgrace. 

He argued, of course. Rage boiled his blood, gnashed his teeth. Curled his fists.

He ran away. Ran away like the coward he was and got drunk in a shitty pub with shitty beer and ranted about the injustice that was brought upon him. He was to be an Avatar for Enlightenment, not some Gods-damned nanny!

When Fu finally calmed down and returned to the temple, outsiders with no goodwill towards humanity must have followed him. The temple was raided by some fools who were ruled by the dark greed in their hearts, unholy ambitions in their soul.

When all was said and done, there were so few survivors, and the Miraculous were scattered. The small group took it upon themselves to find the missing Miraculous, traveling the world and investigating Oft sprawling tales and bloodlines.

Of these survivors, Fu was now the last one. And the last Miraculous led him to Paris, France. It’s been a few years, and the trail has run cold. But now, a whole new issue was at hand.

The Beast. A horror story that scared many a young one, including Fu himself. A rogue Miraculous with a bloody history and a tendency to rip away what makes its wielders human. An absolute power that corrupts absolutely. And it found itself in Paris.

With urgency, Fu opens the gramophone and pulls out the ornate box, ancient and strong. He places the box gently on a small table and opens the top lid.

“Tikki, answer my call.”

A golden light spilled from the center of the box, and morphed into the familiar Kwami shape. A ladybug-themed creature, gold eyes wide.

“Yes, Master?” Tikki asks, voice high and sweet.

“I’ve found the Beast here in Paris. It’s taken a young girl this time.”

“What?” Tikki gasps, paws flying to her mouth.

Fu’s eyes narrow. “I need a student, one that can protect the box should I perish, and one that can wield you to reverse the damage done by this great evil. I was wondering if any souls come to mind?”

Lightning cracked and flooded the room with light for a second. The raindrops were hitting the windows even harder than before. Tikki hums, and closes her eyes, antennae twitching, her senses spread out as far as they could go. No one said anything for a few moments.

“A kid with green eyes.” Tikki’s eyes open, a faraway look in her gaze. “He creates with his hands, with his voice, with his ideas. He will be sufficient.”

“Sufficient?” Fu’s voice is harsh. “Is there anyone better than just enough? ”

Tikki frowns, her body lowering in a show of submission. “There is someone better, but I can’t look at them. Something is blocking my vision.”

“Of course.” Fu growls. Nothing could ever go right for him. He just had to get second best, because something else has collected the perfect student.

And he’s certain it’s the Beast that’s taken his desired pupil. 

Tikki wasn’t gone for long, only a few brief moments. But she was returned to the Box, to the somber faces of her fellow Kwami. The pocket of space they lived in was dark, a permanent dusk with white cracks like cobwebs across the entrance in the sky. There used to be a blue sky, and a hoard of objects that the Kwami used to play with in order to pass the time. But after Wang Fu’s mistake, the space shattered, and the objects had since disintegrated. 

“What did he want?” Mullo, the senior of the Zodiac asked, her voice squeaky and youthful.

Tikki frowned, an expression that was near permanent at this point. “Plagg is nearby. And seems to have an active user.”

The Kwami startle, voices overlapping, fear and anger coming like waves and irritating the fabric of time that Tikki resided within. Fears of death and destruction, the devouring of the poor soul who found the ring, after decades of silence on his part.

“Silence!” Mullo ordered, and the Zodiac quieted down, leaving the last two to crowd Tikki.

“How bad is it?” Pollen’s voice warbled, body an ashy grey.

“Nothing has happened yet,” Tikki reported, form tense and unstable. 

“Is Plagg just biding his time?” Trixx accuses, and Tikki shakes her head.

She knew — knew from the depths of her eternal being that Plagg wasn’t an evil creature. Being called nothing but a beast, being unable to familiarize himself with life on earth and take a form like Tikki and her ladybugs. Or Trixx and its foxes. The title of beast must alienate Plagg more than he already was. His power, as destructive as it was, had a place in the making of the universe. But… There was a reason Tikki and Plagg waited hundreds of years before entrusting their powers to the monks of the Guardian Temple.

Perhaps they should’ve waited a few hundred more.

Wednesday August 1, 2012

A week passed, and Marinette didn’t dare let Ange Noir out. The Turtle sensei was bound to find her, and rip Plagg away from her. So Marinette trapped herself in her room, designing clothes in a frenzy, ignoring the cabin fever that dug at her bones.

“C’mon kid, surely you could take a walk?” Plagg begged, form completely obscured by void and flames. 

Marinette shook her head.

“You haven’t even touched the Tome in a while! Kid, you can’t just ignore everything Miraculous cause some old Turtle scared you!” Plagg landed on her hand, forcing her attention.

“We can teach you to fight.” Duusu offered. “If you can protect yourself, you won’t have anything to fear.”

Marinette shook her hand, causing Plagg to fly away. “I don’t want to fight! That’s for adults, not for me.” Something icky sludged under her skin. She’s so small, she’s aware. Barely started puberty, a child in her room.

“You wield Destruction! You have for years! Sooner or later, someone is going to fight you!” Plagg forces himself into her face.

“I thought you didn’t want to fight!” Marinette stood up, shoving the void away. “* I* thought you were against needless violence?”

“You are in danger.” Plagg growls, form completely lost, flames growing. “I’d rather you be safe!”

“STOP!” Duusu commands, form flickering. Something that never happens to them. Not supposed to happen to them. “Marinette. I think you don’t understand something.”

The girl in question scoffs, but doesn’t move.

“We want you to be safe.” Duusu says slowly. “If someone attacks you, we need you to fight back, to make sure that the Guardian does not take Plagg from you. Self defense is not needless violence.”

Marinette sighs, shoulders drooping and head hanging. “Fighting is for adults.” She repeats weakly. Gods of unknowable age might not understand how young she is, but maybe she could still plead for their understanding. The Kwami don’t say anything. After a moment of thick silence, Marinette turns around and opens the trapdoor, leaving her room. 

She ends up making a bowl of rice cereal, noting how empty the milk carton feels. On a long notepad that sits on the fridge door she writes ‘Milk’, a note to her parents that will be seen at some point. Forcing herself to ignore the pain in her heart, Marinette sits on the couch and turns on the TV, watching the news. Nothing good is going on, as per usual. The prices have gone up, the Mayor is a disappointment, there’s always a small five minute discussion about Ange Noir, and what the elusive superhero has done the past few days. Of course, they have nothing new to talk about, so they move on to wild theories about her identity or other aspects of herself.

Today they’re calling her an alien, thanks to a call from a viewer that swears up and down that he saw Ange Noir leaving on a UFO, explaining her tail and ears and unnatural eye color. Forget that most people that Marinette has come across have noticed that her tail is merely a sash flowing in the wind. The newswoman doesn’t seem to take much stock in this random man’s rambling either, a sparkle of ‘can you believe this guy?’ twinkling through the screen.

But the bit is cut short, the footage suddenly goes to a man standing outside the Grand Paris Hotel, police taping off the entrance behind him.

“This just in, the only daughter of Mayor Bourgeois has been declared missing. The Police were contacted at seven this morning by a concerned butler who claims he hasn’t seen the girl for two days. Police investigation is still ongoing, and there are no leads to her whereabouts.” The man continues, about how Chloe wouldn’t run away, how there have been no signs towards foul play, or even a break in. Security footage was wiped and forced on a loop. 

Marinette could only stare, cereal forgotten. Chloe was missing? But… what? The blonde couldn’t go missing, she was a perpetual thorn in Marinette’s side, something permanent. She can’t just… Leave.

“Plagg!” Marinette calls, jumping off the couch and rushing up the ladder, interrupting whatever conversation Plagg and Duusu were having. “Plagg! Chloe is missing!” 

The void only gives her a stare. “The brat?”

Something cold rests In Marinette’s chest. “She’s missing. They have no clue what happened!”

Plagg is still staring, apathetic. “So?”

“What do you mean, so?”

“I mean, what are you going to do?” Plagg lowers, looking at Marinette. “I’m not good at investigations. And even if I was, you don’t want to go out as Ange Noir.”

A strangled growl rumbled in Marinette’s throat, high-pitched and choking. Someone she knew was missing! And… and she can’t do anything about it. Marinette sat at her desk, sighing heavily.

“I can’t just do nothing.” Marinette pleaded. 

Plagg was silent for a moment, before blinking. “I… might have something you can do.”

The sun was starting setting, and Marinette was on top of a roof. Across the street below stood the Grand Paris Hotel. Where Chloe was last seen. The building was on lockdown, no one getting in or out. Marinette had waited for an hour, watching the building, trying to see if there was something, some clue. 

But fear made her choke.

“Kid.” Plagg frowned. Marinette dropped her transformation the moment she landed on the roof. “Kid, you aren’t gonna see anything staying out here.”

“Do you think you could explain it one more time?” 

“Kid, five times is enough. You’ve got this. And if anything goes wrong, you have Duusu.” The two kwami’s shared a glance, their wide eyes betraying their nerves. It was a risky plan, one that none of them were sure would work. 

Marinette inhaled. Hold. Exhale. “Plagg, claws out!” In a flash of green light, Ange Noir entered the scene, tail-sash waving gently in the wind. Immediately, the sights and sounds of the city grew sharper. Carefully, Ange Noir eyed the land one last time, before using her baton to hop over the street and land on the hotel roof. Chloe’s room was a room that had a balcony, one with the doors locked and secured. But the balcony above hers wasn’t being used. Ange dropped down, and opened the door with a quiet click, dashing through the room and into the hall, lights slightly dimmer for the evening, but still plenty bright. 

Ange needed to get to the stairwell and go a floor down. If memory served her right (back when Marinette cared to help her parents cater to large parties in the ballroom below) there was a stairwell on the eastern side of the building, one that reached all the floors. Now with a plan, Ange Noir crept along silently, head left down the hall. There were no signs of life, or anyone being on this floor. Distantly, Ange could hear people on the floor below. 

The stairwell was empty, as well as the immediate hallway it led to. But just beyond a curve, Ange could hear two men talking to each other. Cops? Or butlers?

“Duusu?” Ange looked around for the bird and saw them near the ceiling, looking past the curve. 

“One second.” Duusu whispers, then they phase through the wall. Ange Noir waits for a minute, then a racket plays down the hall. Ange hears two sets of footsteps walk away from Chloe’s door, and she wastes no time slipping past the door and looking around. There wasn’t any sign of investigation or struggle. 

“All right. Time to test this out.” Plagg had given Marinette a quick rundown of a few of his… less destructive abilities. One of which would be invaluable for finding Chloe. 

“Pursuit!”

Ange’s vision filled with smokes of color, trails from the mayor and police, from Sabrina and Chloe. From the kidnapper. Older trails were faded, meanwhile the ones made this morning were bright, practically glowing. Ange walked around, searching for the one trail that was undeniably Chloe’s. She decided to open the closet door, and sure enough, a bright yellow trail lingered all over the shoes and dresses. Reaching a hand out, Ange Noir entangled her senses in the yellow smoke, until all the other trails faded from view. Satisfied, Ange closed the closet and turned around, searching for the brightest yellow, which was heading towards the balcony. 

Outside, the trail leapt over the rails and down the window sills of the Hotel, heading towards the street and sharply turning right. Chloe was put into a car, it seems. Luckily, that didn’t stop the trail. Ange Kept to the rooftops, following the trail, making sure she stayed out of sight of any potential Turtle Sensei’s stalking around.

     Thursday August 2, 2012

His only friend was missing, and now more than ever did Adrien Agreste want to scream at the unfairness of it all. He wanted to help. He wanted to save Chloe. He wanted to be let outside.

Ever since his mother went missing last fall, Adrien’s father had only gone crazy with paranoia, keeping a bodyguard outside Adrien’s door and severely limiting what free time the boy had before. Before, Adrien found respite with his mother, a calming presence that softened his father’s harsh personality. 

Why did his mother leave? She went on one of her normal morning trips to eat baked goods that Father banned from the mansion, full of carbs and sugar. But then she never came back. The driver said she wanted to walk home that day. 

The driver led Father and the Police to the bakery his Mother had frequented. A place Mother hadn’t wanted Father to know about, for some odd reason. The owners were cooperative, according to what little Adrien could overhear from his hiding spot by the stairwell. They gave the police access to their security footage. Only it didn’t help.

After all, Mom was still gone. With each passing month, Adrien’s chest got tighter, his blood moved slower. Dust collected on his piano, his foils were dull, never leaving their duffel bag. Any small activity that Adrien used to indulge in his free time, like painting or basketball, was abandoned in exchange for wallowing. 

The television has been on nonstop the past few days, volume set to mute. Adrien kept his eyes on the screen, eager to hear anything about Chloe. The girl had her… Rough moments, and stuck-up attitude, but she was still a constant in Adrien’s life, the two children bonding over their shared neglect from Audrey and Gabriel.

Adrien wanted to help. But instead he sprawled himself on his couch, made of high-end white leather that was almost as stiff as Father himself. The news was talking about stocks, or crime. The rate of something was lower than in recent weeks. Adrien couldn’t really bring himself to care. Suddenly, the banner on the bottom switched, and the camera quickly cut to a woman standing outside, delivering breaking news. 

Kidnapped Mayoress rescue currently underway!

Adrien scrambled to his hands and knees, searching for the television remote with a desperate frenzy. It was only a few seconds later that the television volume was raised, and Nadja Chamack’s voice echoed in his spacious room.

“—Tside the long abandoned warehouses that haunt the edges of the River Seine in District 13, where a local hero who has just introduced herself as Ange Noir claims Chloe Bourgeois is being kept. The kidnapper’s identities are unknown at this time, but I will be here to provide information as soon as it comes to light. Right now, the Police, alongside Ange Noir, are raiding the locatio—”

“Couldn’t we keep her from broadcasting our plans?” Ange Noir asked Head Detective Lucas Martin, the man in charge of the raid, who was also looking at Mrs. Chamack with thinly veiled disgruntlement. 

“She started before we could talk to her.” Det. Martin grumbled. “And we are busy scouting the area, especially now since the perps have a heads up.” Detective Martin was a man in his late thirties, blue eye’s blonde with stubble and eyebags. Ange Noir worried that he and other officers would realize she was a child, but Plagg and Duusu reassured her that the Kwami Magic would keep her age a nebulous unknown, meaning it would be likely they’d remember her as a young adult, even though she was so short, and her voice so high-pitched. 

“Well, maybe I could distract her–” Gunshots interrupted, coming from inside the warehouse. 

” The Kidnappers are armed! Bring backup!”

Det. Martin’s walkie went off, and without any hesitation Ange Noir leapt to action, landing on the roof and slipping in through a skylight with a shattered pane. It was a stupid decision, Especially since Ange had called in the police specifically so she didn’t have to fight the criminals inside. But some ridiculous heroic nerve in her body had the girl running towards the kidnapper’s head-on. 

She followed the gunshots, rounding a corner and immediately surveying the scene with a speed that made it feel like time had stopped. There were two officers, one on the dusty cement unmoving, not dead, maybe unconscious. He had been dragged behind what seemed to be a broken industrial fridge turned on its side. The second officer had his gun out, taking cover behind the same fridge. The criminal stood across the room, a two-handed gun at the ready, partially covered by a worktable, old and rusted tools spilling from a recently knocked over tool box that must have been sitting on the table.

No one had seen her yet. Ange looked around, searching for cover, and noticed strong wooden beams above, hidden in shadows. Ange quickly jumped up and settled in the dark, bounding across the room as fast as she could. Baton ready, Ange Noir dropped behind the criminal and thwacked him hard against the head. The man slumped to the floor, and Ange Noir couldn’t detect any other enemies nearby.

“Clear!” she announced. “Get him out of here. I’ll go search for Ms. Bourgeois.” At the command, the policeman nodded and lifted his fellow officer on his shoulders, quickly leaving the area. Which… shoot. There were other officers in other parts of the warehouse, but they haven’t found anybody, which means Ange Noir was now in an area full of gun-wielding bad guys. 

“Pursuit.” It was easier than last time to find Chloe’s trail, and following it through another set of hallways and an open room was easy as well. Ange stayed to the shadows, really not wanting to test her suit’s power against a bullet. 

Master Fu growled at his small television, boxy and at a lower resolution than most other technology that everyone else used. But he could still hear the gunshots, still read the tag lines. 

The Beast had given itself a name. Ange Noir, Black Angel. How ironic, the demon of Destruction calling itself a warrior of light, a bringer of Knowledge and Enlightenment. Almost like it still thought it was a member of the Order. 

Please. 

The old man wanted to don his Turtle form and correct the heroic light that this new plague was taking, shaping and manipulating to fit its own devious machinations. But the Kwami’s of the Butterfly and Peacock brooch’s might recognize Jade Turtle as the Guardian, and tell their owners. And if the owners of the brooches were afraid of their miraculous’s being taken away from them, they might leave town and hide somewhere else. Fu was old, he couldn’t travel to who-knows-where forever. He needed the apprentice that Tikki foresaw.

But the kid was nowhere to be found. Tikki had no luck trying to find his location. Something was stopping their meeting. 

Tikki said it wasn’t the right time yet.

Fu didn’t agree.

The trail led to a cement wall with no windows or holes, just a solid set of wooden double doors. Pausing for a moment confirmed that at the very least Chloe and one other person were in the room together, based on what little muffled sounds Ange Noir could pick up. She didn’t have a walkie, couldn’t call for back-up, and didn’t feel like leaving to get help would be the right choice. It was just Ange Noir and…

“Duusu,” she whispered. “Can you scout ahead?” 

The Kwami nodded and flew away, serious and vigilant. Not for the first time did Marinette feel awful that Duusu couldn’t help in a bigger way. After Chloe is safe, fixing the Brooch was definitely her next priority.

Duusu came back with a glint in their eyes, relaying their findings with a quiet tone. “Chloe’s tied up in a chair. There’s two guys, one of them is huge and muscle-y, the other is average build. There is a desk the smaller guy is sitting at, and the big one is standing next to the door.”

Ange Noir blinked, ideas fluttering past and running in circles. There was an idea, maybe to knock the doors off their hinges and use them like shields, or weapons. But Ange would have to hit them pretty hard, and the action might cause her to lose her balance, and therefore a few seconds. Seconds that could spell life or death for both Chloe and Ange Noir. But maybe the confusion and the noise could give her a few seconds to prepare. 

Sure. Maybe.

Mouth set, Ange lunged at the door at an angle, aiming for the locks in the center. If the doors were locked, then this was the best bet at making sure they opened anyway. With an explosive bang, the doors slammed open, scaring the criminals and allowing Ange’s vision to speed up again, slowing time. With only a quick glance around the room to strategize, Ange wasted no time grabbing one of the doors and snapping a section off, the wood being as rotted as it was made the separation easy, and Ange Noir threw the section at the large man that was only two meters away. The wood hit him on the knees, and with his focus elsewhere Ange used her baton to smash into his nose, knocking the giant out in only a few seconds.

Ange turned to the last man, hearing the bigger man thump to the floor limply, and raised her baton. “Give me the Mayoress, and I won’t attack you.”

The man had no fear in his eyes, only a smug, cocky attitude that could only come from someone with a gun in his hands, already aimed at the hero. “I’d like to see you try.”

Ange Noir leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the bullet that lodged itself into the concrete behind her, shattering upon impact. The bad guy was behind the desk, the desk was across the room. Chloe was tied to a chair in front of the desk, but facing away from the man with the gun. To the left of the desk was a splayed pile of rotted tarps, and behind the man was a lift, a rusted elevator that could be a good way to trap the man. 

She zipped back and forth, zigzagging to avoid getting hit, getting closer to the kidnapper. He shot two more times, each bullet slicing through the air and hitting the floors with explosive energy, concrete bits flying everywhere. Ange Noir lunged over the desk, grabbing the gun and pushing it to aim at the ceiling. The barrel was hot, but not as hot as the ovens back home. Ange risked removing one of her hands to grab her baton, making it long and aiming for a sweep at the Kidnapper’s legs. The swing only made the man stumble a bit, but it let Ange pull the gun from his grasp and slam it against his head twice. The man fell to the floor with no celebration, just a slump. 

Chloe was staring at her, blue eyes wide. Ange stared back, blood rushing and her heartbeat in her ears. Her hands shook a little, and Chloe seemed scared too.

“I’m here to save you,” Ange’s voice was quiet, but still loud compared to the previous silence. “Can I undo your binds?” Chloe nodded. Carefully, Ange cut the cloth-rope material with her claws, including the one muffling Chloe. The moment the gag was gone, Chloe started asking questions. 

“Who are you? What are you? Did you kill those guys? Are you here to save me? You don’t look like the police, or any hero I’ve seen!” Ange Noir quickly covered the blonde’s mouth, ears twitching. She looked up and saw four people at the broken doors, guns in hand and stunned to see their prisoner free. 

“Dang it.” Ange muttered, looking around for an escape. The group was standing at the doors, blocking the way out. There was that lift, but there was no guarantee it would work, or shield them from bullets.

But it was going to have to work. Ange Noir pulled Chloe by her arm, flinging her around the desk and not-to-kindly throwing the Mayoress in the lift. She entered the lift, looking for the controls, but they were old and covered with cobwebs. Ange looked up at the quickly approaching men and—

A moment of clarity struck. Her gaze was drawn to her ring, resting on her right hand. The metal was dark as night when Marinette was transformed, and it didn’t seem to reflect light either. Like Plagg, whose entire body was a void. Like Plagg, who was a god. A God of Destruction. Ange knew what she had to do.

“Cataclysm!”

The void spilled from her ring and covered her hand, cold and welcoming, a buzzing energy Ange Noir wasn’t aware she felt dispelling. It was clear what the void was going to be used for, its purpose emblazoned in Ange’s mind. Her hand pressed itself against the array of buttons, and the void traveled down her arm and into the lift, black electricity cracking in the thin metal frame. Ange Noir pulled Chloe close, watching the door close and feeling the lift fall a few feet before perking to a stop.

“Duusu!” Ange called, and the kwami poked their head out from the array of buttons.

“I’ll help you! One moment!” Duusu said way too cheerfully. Then they were gone, and the two girls were left with silence.

“What…” Chloe pulled herself away from Ange’s protective hold. “What the hell was all that!?”

Ange winced, and turned to look at the blonde. “My name is Ange Noir. I’m a superhero.”

“Well, thank God for that!” Chloe waved her hands around, gesturing to the lift. “This is a much better place to be than the chair!” Her nasally voice sounded almost the same when she used sarcasm. 

Ange was going to argue, but a beeping cut her off, forcing her to look at her ring. Three dots of light marked her ring, starting in the center and heading to the right. 

” Listen kid,” Plagg explained, before Marinette headed off for the Grand Hotel. “Pursuit, as well as any other power you use, will set a time limit on your transformation. Pursuit doesn’t take a lot of energy, so you’ll be left with ten minutes, max. But be careful, the more energy you use, the quicker I’ll have to stop powering you and eat some food.”

Three minutes left. 

“What’s that?” Chloe asked, more curious than sarcastic now. 

“It’s my ring.” Ange Noir answered. Marinette may have wanted to make sure Chloe was safe, but that didn’t mean she trusted the blonde. And Chloe seemed to realize that Ange wasn’t sharing everything, but thankfully didn’t ask more questions… regarding the ring, that is.

“So what the heck happened up there? How did you find me?” 

Ange sighed. What was Duusu doing? “I have a tracking ability, and I was able to find you and lead the Police here. And I also have… Cataclysm. It destroys stuff, and I was hoping the lift would protect us from the guys with guns.”

“Yeah, well now we’re stuck here.” Chloe scoffed. Ange’s ring beeped again. Two minutes left.

“Duusu will save us. Or lead the police to us,” Ange Noir promised, hoping she wasn’t lying. 

“That was the blue thing, right?” 

“Yeah. They’re a Kwami, which is like… a tiny god.”

The other girl’s mouth fell open. “You work with a god?” 

“Two gods.” Ange Noir smirks, enjoying the awe that Chloe never cared to give when she was merely Marinette. “The second one keeps me transformed.” And he was getting tired, and Marinette’s transformation would drop soon, leaving Chloe alone with Marinette, the girl she hates. Her identity would be known, and Chloe will despise the fact that Cheng was the one to save her. 

“Could you maybe… turn around for a minute?” Ange asked carefully. 

“Why?” Chloe raises a sharp eyebrow, shoulders tense with suspicion. 

Ange Noir hesitated. “It’s just… my transformation will end soon, and I don’t want you to know my identity.”

“Like hell am I turning around! I just got kidnapped, I’m not going to turn my back to you! I don’t want to die, thank you very much!” 

Beep. Sixty seconds left.

“Chloe, I saved you! Why would I do that only to hurt you?” 

Chloe pressed herself against the rusted metal wall. Ange noted that a tetanus shot might be good for both of them. “I don’t know you? What if you’re working with the criminals? Only criminals wear all black like that!” She pointed at Ange’s gi, which… yeah, was primarily black, but there were enough green accents to balance that!

“Chloe, please, I need you to at least close your eyes. I promise I’ll stay on this side of the elevator!” Thirty seconds left.

“Why? What are you going to do to me?” 

“I’m not gonna do anything! I swear on my life! My identity needs to be a secret. Don’t you understand that?”

A rumbling interrupted their arguing, shaking the lift, and echoes of falling rocks sounded from above, almost like the warehouse was coming down.

“DUUSU!” Ange screamed, envisioning the rocks crushing her, the agony death must be. Her parents, how long would it be until they realized their daughter was missing? And Nathaniel? Would he start school in a month, and realize Marinette was no longer there?

A final beep, a flash of green light, and the last groan from the earth.

Chapter Text

“We are currently outside the warehouse being raided by Paris’s police force. The Fire Department and EMS Services have just arrived after news of officers being under fire. There have been no sightings of Chloe Bourgeois or our very own superhero, Ange Noir, since the gunshots started earlier. Overseeing the raid is Head Detective Lucas Martin, who had been assigned this case—”

The television was muted, and the sudden silence made Adrien jump and turn around to see Nathalie standing tall, blue eyes murky with emotion that Adrien couldn’t recognize. 

“Adrien, you need to be heading to your fencing class. Your father gave you a mourning period, but his patience runs thin.”

“But Nathalie! They’re saving Chloe!” Adrien protested, climbing to his knees and clenching the back of the couch, knuckles white. “How can I possibly think about fencing when my friend is in trouble?”

Nathalie shakes her head, a frown tugging on the corner of her mouth. “The police are handling the situation right now. The only thing you should be doing is trusting them to do their job, and focusing on your extracurricular activities, such as fencing. Your class begins in an hour, and we need to leave in thirty minutes to account for traffic so you arrive promptly.” The woman sighs, making Adrien’s continued protests die in his throat. This wasn’t going to be a battle he’d win. “Listen, Adrien. If you’re good, and you don’t complain, I can buy you those pastels you enjoy. Do we have a deal?”

Adrien pouts, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched, an expression father would disapprove of; too big a risk of permanent wrinkles. Nathalie raises an eyebrow, and Adrien smooths his face. “We have a deal.”

Plagg awoke to a terrible sense of foreboding, the smell of sweat and fear dissolving his body until the tendrils of his being nestled in every crack and cranny of the small elevator he ended up in. 

Gods, what did Marinette do?

He didn’t have eyes, and felt more than saw his guardian on the floor, transformation gone and identity free for all to see. Across from her sat the blonde brat, curled into a ball and staring forlornly at the hero. They were both covered in dirt and rust, tears cleaning trails down Chloe’s cheeks. Plagg frowned. He’d always wanted revenge for how the brat treated his guardian, but this… this whole thing was probably karma enough. 

Slowly, gently, Plagg pulled his being together, forcing himself to somewhat fit the shape that all the other Kwami’s took, though he was never successful. Marinette never seemed to mind Plagg’s fire or void tendrils, and she still held him and let him perch on her head or her desk. Plagg took care to make sure Chloe could see his body forming, not wanting to scare the girl (She was so young, just like his Marinette).

Chloe didn’t see anything, but her shoulders tightened. Plagg pulled himself together enough to give himself a mouth. “I am Ange Noir’s Kwami.” He opened his bright eyes, reflecting what little light there was… like a cat. Plagg wasn’t a cat. He really only let Marinette believe that. But all beasts shared certain characteristics. “You can call me Plagg.”

Chloe whimpered. “The… the tiny god-things? There was a blue one.”

Plagg sighed. “Yeah, Duusu. What did Ange tell you?” What was Marinette telling this random bully? Why did Duusu show themselves? Why… were they in this elevator?

“Just that she found me. And… she used a spell called Cataclysm.” 

“That’s why I’m so…” Plagg doesn’t dare finish his sentence. “At least she used it to save you.” He says, if only to let Chloe continue asking questions. 

“Is she… okay?” Chloe still hasn’t moved from her spot in the corner. The idea of her being alone in the dim light with an unconscious body… Gods, Plagg was feeling off today.

“Hey, kid, wake up.” He drifted closer to Marinette, settling on her shoulder. Her heartbeat was quicker than normal, but not too fast to cause Plagg any more concern. “Wake up!” He shoved her, and Marinette started to mumble.

“Five… more…” Her voice drifted, loud enough for Chloe to start, daring to crawl a little closer.

“No, Marinette! Wake up now!” His urgency must have scared her, and the girl quickly sat up and looked around, horror dawning on her face. 

“... What?” Marinette groaned, the arm she was propping herself up with was shaky. “Plagg… I’m so sorry.”

“Kid, we’ll worry about this later, but I need you to cataclysm yourselves out of here. Can you do that?” Plagg cursed Marinette’s empty pockets and purse. 

“But, don’t you need food?” 

“No time!” The void could barely hold on to his form… it’s likely he’d have to hide in the ring for a while after this. But Plagg’s just going to have to wait to explain. 

“Okay, Plagg, Claws Out!”

A flash of light, and Plagg was sucked into the ring, his magic covering Marinettes, leaving his senses muddled, as if he were asleep.

Gods, does he want to be asleep.

Alim Kubdel isn’t one to watch the news. Historical documentary? Of course. Trashy reality shows? Sure, let the man have a guilty pleasure. But the news? Hardly worth listening to. So he wasn’t too sure why the television in his living room was focused on Nadja Chamack standing by a warehouse, one that seemed to be under attack, like a bomb went off inside. Despite the rubble and the dust, Nadja’s grin was wide. And the camera moved to show two girls leaving the warehouse. 

Ah yes. Ange Noir. The… superhero. Something that should be impossible, the works of cinema and novels. Yet here was Paris, with a cat-themed teenager zipping around, saving the everyman. 

No one online seemed to agree on Ange Noir’s age, but most believed she was young, an older teenager or a young adult. Alim didn’t agree with even those speculations, but he couldn’t include his theories into the discussions with no evidence whatsoever. 

Behind the Hero followed a rather battered and cowed Chloe Bourgeois, curled in on herself. Then behind her were… three stone giants, probably eight or nine feet tall, if Alim had to guess. The giants were wide, and almost blended in with their surroundings. Perhaps they were built out of the warehouse rubble? In their arms were six men, two for each giant. The Kidnappers?

“Ange Noir!” Nadja wasted no time hounding the hero. “What are these things? Are they friendly?”

Ange Noir didn’t immediately answer, instead making sure the police took the kidnappers. “These are Sentinels. They’ll come when I need help. And when I don’t…” The Sentinels crumbled, leaving behind three piles of rubble. 

Alim clicked his tongue, ignoring the spectacle and watching the small hero. She looked just as weary as Chloe, who was receiving enthusiastic hugs from her father. But no one made sure Ange was okay. After a minute, the hero left, saying her goodbyes. The old man’s heart ached. It was easy to see Alix in the heroine’s place… too easy, in fact. There were differences, of course, but… the maturity they both carried themselves with? A determined façade, a child who wants independence, to reassure themselves that they don’t need an adult anymore to hold their hand, or to guide them. 

Alim shuts off the television and turns back to the manuscript of the Journal. Something… calls to him.

Her body felt like one big bruise. Why the heck did she think anything she did was okay? Marinette sighed, splayed out on her bed. Plagg was nowhere to be seen, probably downstairs finding a snack to eat. Duusu rested on the pillow beside Marinette’s head, exhausted as well. But curiosity dug at Marinette.

“What… are the Sentinels?” Duusu had no time to explain earlier, but now that they are back home, maybe there’s a chance now. 

“My power. I give things Heart, or Life. I had to catch the bad guys.” Duusu yawns, curling up into a ball and falling asleep. Marinette yawns in agreement, and the two are snoring before the minutes up.

     Saturday August 4, 2012

So, here’s how it is. Alix comes home from racing Kim (and kicking his ass) to find Marinette Dupain-Cheng sitting at her kitchen table, sipping some soup that Jalil made a few days ago. Now, Marinette at her house wasn’t all that weird, the girl had been here enough the last few months of school for Alix to get used to it. But for the past month, Marinette was nowhere to be seen.

Alix didn’t say anything, and neither did Marinette, who looked dead on her feet. But then again, so were most of Alix’s friends. The whole Chloe thing a couple of days ago threw everyone off their game, delaying Alix and Kim’s race, and canceling any hangouts the art room kids had been planning.

Her old man was pretty shaken up too, it seemed. He was doing that thing he does where he locks himself in his study to think for hours at a time. Alix had no idea what about Chloe needed thinking about, but whatever. Her dad was just weird like that.

Alix sat at the table, pulling out her new phone and playing an endless runner game. Marinette finished her soup and rested her head on the table, looking like she was asleep in seconds.

God, what happened to Marinette? Alix ignored the loss of her game and stood up, heading towards the hallway with the study. 

“Dad, what’s up with Marinette?” Alix asks loudly, her question doubling as an announcement of her arrival. “Why is she asleep?”

Alim sat on the corner of his desk, facing away from the door, staring at an old tapestry kept in an extra-durable plexiglass case. The tapestry was nothing special, a fox and a butterfly, with random letters that Alix couldn’t read embroidered on. Alix knew her dad and Marinette could read the tapestry (and really, how the hell did the baker’s daughter end up reading random ancient languages?) But Alix had no clue what the tapestry was even talking about.

“They found another one.” Dad mumbled. “Alix, dear, could you please close the door?”

Alix blinked, but obeyed, excited to hear what secret her father was gonna share. “What’s cool about the new one?” Alix prompted.

“It’s at least a thousand years younger than this one right here. According to the emails from the colleagues who found it, it talks about the highest powers granting enlightenment to the people.” Dad finally turns and faces his daughter. “The pictures I have are blurry, but the two powers are depicted with red and black.”

“And… that’s interesting… why?” Alix stepped closer to get a better look at the Butterfly. 

“I believe this Ange Noir is one of these powers used to help humanity.” Dad merely suggested. And the suggestion sounded cool, don’t get Alix wrong. But… she might not be completely understanding what her father wanted to say. “And I have suspicions about the identity of Ange Noir and the forces that decided to give her these powers.”

There, that’s lots more exciting! “Who is Ange Noir?” Alix’s voice was clear with anticipation. But Dad shook his head.

“It’s not my secret, and that’s final, understand? Do not ask me any questions on the matter.”

Alix pouted, but agreed anyway. Her old man was a smart man, even if she really, really wanted to know what secrets he held close to his chest.

     Thursday August 9, 2012

Somehow, Chloe ended up in her room. 

It’s been a week since her rescue, and Marinette didn’t think Chloe would come to talk… at all, really. But obviously, knowing the girl you bullied for years was actually a superhero changes things. 

“I want to see it.” The blonde announced.

“... What?” Marinette puts down her pencil and spins in her chair, still so tired, but not as sore.

“Plagg. I want to talk to him.” Chloe demanded. She was still as rude as before. Maybe Marinette had wished she’d act differently now that they had some sort of shared trauma, but clearly, that was too much to ask. 

“Plagg isn’t here.” Marinette sighs. She glances at her ring. Instead of its usual rose gold glow, it now looks… tarnished. Battered. “He’s still recovering. Like you should be.” Marinette turns to Chloe, seeing that confidence chip away to reveal fear.

Chloe doesn’t speak for a while. She looks around Marinette’s room, but the blonde doesn’t make any remarks about the pink color or the lack of solid gold and diamonds everywhere. 

“Chloe, why are you here? Just because I saved you doesn’t mean I like you. You’re still a horrible person.” The hurt that used to cling to her lungs must’ve been shaken, or isn’t anywhere near as strong as before. Marinette wants to kick Chloe out, enforce that nothing changes anything, and to leave her alone. But even if Chloe wasn’t changed by everything, Marinette still was, irreparably so.

“How long?” Her voice is softer, still nasally. Maybe that’s just how Chloe speaks. 

“I found Plagg when I was six. But I didn’t become a hero until… recently.” Sure, Marinette first turned into Ange Noir when she was ten, but actually being a hero? Saving people? It all started only a few months ago.

“That long?” Chloe sat down on the chaise. Her posture was stiff, but her tapping fingers betrayed her excitement. “How did you find him?”

“I found the M–... the ring by a river.” Marinette held up her left hand, showing the ring in all its battered glory. 

“Are there any more? I mean, I saw the blue God, so there must be more, right?” 

Marinette’s thoughts wandered to the Tome and its translation in her desk drawer. Duusu hiding in the small dollhouse, waiting for Plagg to reappear. The Turtle Guardian that wanted to take Plagg away from her. 

“Maybe.”

Chloe didn’t like the vague response. Her nose scrunched up, like she smelled something bad. Too bad, she’ll have to get used to disappointment.

“Listen, Chloe, I don’t like you. I already said that. I’m not gonna tell you everything. You don’t deserve everything.”

“What if I tell Kim and Ivan to stop bullying you?” Chloe challenged.

“That’s the bare minimum! Most people don’t have henchmen that they use to beat kids up!” Offense at the idea that simply ‘Not being bullied’ would be enough good behavior to warrant the answers to every question you had made her blood boil. Marinette stood up, towering over the normally taller girl. “You would need to quit bullying everyone. You would need to be polite for the rest of your life. You would need to treat everyone, everyone, no matter their income or looks, with at the very least politeness! Just because you don’t like somebody does not mean you destroy their property! Do you understand?” Marinette growled, frustration built up since she was six spilling out and making Marinette want to shake Chloe until she saw reason. 

Her blue eyes were wide, leaning far away from Marinette’s fury. Chloe seemed uncharacteristically cowed, fearful even. Here was her primary target for years, who can now take down adult men with guns and has the power to destroy everything she touches, and her fury was directed at Chloe.

“I… I can try…” Chloe mumbled, shoulders raised to her cheeks. Marinette steps away, taking a couple of deep, slow breaths. Honestly? She wasn’t even sure that Chloe could change. Maybe she could attempt it for a week or so, but Marinette figured that by the time school started up again in a few weeks, the blonde would be back on her haughty attitude.

“That’s all I ask of you.”

It isn’t until after Chloe left that Plagg feels comfortable leaving the ring. His fire was weaker, and his form was a lot more… abstract. He took a glance at himself in the bathroom mirror, and deemed himself in need of a pretty good snack. And cuddles. Marinette’s cuddles make everything better.

Chapter Text

     Monday September 3, 2012

The spirit of Wood awoke to thunder, his eyes wide, the tears of his opposite filling his soul. He cried, a cry of fear that shook the other Kwami, their forms visibly shaking.

“Wayzz!” Tikki calls out, zipping to his side, her golden glow a blazing sun in the dusk hellscape they were forced to call home. “Wayzz, what’s wrong?”

Wayzz was a stranger to tears, only ever remembering crying once before, when everything crumbled apart. “Nooroo! It’s Nooroo! He–He’s being used for evil! I hear it, his owner calling for him, misusing the blessing Nooroo gives freely, a Darkling born anew!” Wayzz explains, quivering and out of needless breath.

Tikki cries with her brother, and the kwami cry with their brother, and the godlings all cry for the loss of another Kwami, cursed like Plagg, sworn to Evil like Destruction. Metal, a material that can create buildings and tools, but brings about weapons and rigid lifelessness. Nooroo, fallen and abused.

“We… We need to tell Fu!” Mullo insists, not catching Tikki’s flinch of fear. Wayzz doesn’t miss it, though. He knew she didn’t really… appreciate Fu as her guardian. 

“I agree!” Wayzz declares, grabbing Tikki by the arm and dragging her towards the ceiling, praying the wood of their box to move aside and let them leave. His wish was granted, and the two Kwami wasted no time waking up Master Fu.

Marinette stood outside room 201B, backpack on backwards with her arms guarding her belongings. Sure, Chloe mentioned pulling the reins on Kim and Ivan, but Marinette had no hope that any change would actually happen.

The bell was about to ring, merely five minutes left. Marinette bounced on her heels, nerves shaking. 

“Hey! I thought you were in a different class?” Marinette jumped, whipped around only to see Nathaniel, slouched and smiling. 

“I am!” Marinette leaned forward to give him a hug. “But I wanted to wish you good luck. And I want you to tell me everything, especially if Chloe acts up, okay?” She unzips her backpack and pulls out a small box with three blueberry rugelach. “Also, I wanted to give you a treat. I did a lot of research for these and I was afraid of getting it wrong and I didn’t want to be offensive but a lot of desserts seemed connected to holidays and I don’t know when any of your holidays are so I’m so sorry you probably hate them and—” 

“Marinette, it’s fine!” Nathaniel takes the box with a smile. “I’m glad you thought of this. And, uh, I can eat every other dessert too.”

“I know! Hehe…” Marinette mumbled, zipping up her backpack, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I gave you lots of treats last year. I just thought I should make different ones today.”

Nathaniel shakes his head and pulls a treat out of the box, taking a bite and grinning. “My mom doesn’t use blueberries. She’s a fan of walnuts. But don’t worry! I like blueberries.” 

The short girl melts with relief, only to leap into the air when the bell rings. “AH Ihavetogobyeseeyouafterschool!” Marinette waves and runs down the hall, into room 202B. 

Ms. Mendeleiev was sitting at her desk, watching her students with a sharp eye. Almost all the students were either at their desk or about to sit at their desks, including Marinette. Normally, Marinette liked sitting in the very back of class, away from Chloe and Kim. But since there were no bullies (Finally!) and Ms. Mendeleiev was a much better teacher than Mr. Beumont, Marinette decided to sit in the second left row, next to a boy with dark hair.

“All right!” Mendeleiev stood up, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “I am Ms. Mendeleiev, and I will be your homeroom teacher this year. One thing I want you to know about me: I do not tolerate goofing off, or any sort of rule breaking. I am a teacher, I am here to teach, not be your babysitter or your friend. That being said, if you have any issues with homework or your classmates, don’t be afraid to talk to me. My utmost goal is to help you learn. Do you understand?”

Marinette nodded, and a few classmates verbally agreed. Ms. Mendeleiv smiled and grabbed a stack of papers from her desk, handing them out around the class. “These are your schedules. You will notice we have A days and B days. On A days, you will have Science, Literature, History, Physical Education, Music and Art. On B days you will have Mathematics, French, Geography, Physical Education, Music and Art. On Wednesday, you will only have Physical Education, Music, and Art, then you will be free to leave after lunch. Eighth Years like yourselves are not permitted to leave the school premises during lunch hour. Am I understood?” She received another round of agreement. 

“Good. Today will be a simple day, and tomorrow the schooling will start. I will tell you what I expect from you both inside and outside this classroom, and all the rules. Then we are going to play an icebreaker game, for the whole class and between your desk mates. So—”

A roar interrupts the teacher, something that sounds large and inhuman. Mendeleiev pauses, and quickly approaches the door, looking out of its window. “Stay here while I see what’s going on.” She ordered before leaving. The classroom immediately started talking amongst themselves. Marinette’s desk partner turned around to talk to the two boys that sat behind them. Marinette didn’t talk to anyone, instead choosing to look around and observe everyone. 

Then something by the window caught her eye. Slowly, Marinette stood up, and walked across the room. She didn’t register the voices of her classmates quieting, watching her with confusion. Marinette looked outside, and was met with a large stone giant glaring back at her. It opened its mouth and roared, the same roar from before. 

Marinette spun around, her inner Ange showing. “Everyone to the walls!” The young girl commanded, and almost immediately everyone listened, scrambling away from the window and pressing themselves against the opposite wall. “Let’s leave, one at a time! Stay calm!” It occurred to Marinette that most people didn’t know what was going on, what they were running from. She spun around to make sure everyone left, and then the walls exploded.

Adrien sat and watched the news, as it seemed he always did, still upset about his failed attempt to sneak into school. Damn his soft heart! He just had to go help that old man—Not that he really felt regret for helping out, but still. That lost him his chance!

But now, on the news, was a stone monster. Not the same as Ange Noir’s Sentinels, but much… sharper and imposing. He was attacking the same school that Adrien tried to sneak into. The one with Chloe inside. 

Again, again, did he wish for a way to help. Ange Noir was only one girl, she couldn’t do everything by herself!

And… something stuck out to Adrien. A box, hexagonal and sleek, black with red oriental designs etched in. 

“When did that get here?” Adrien asked no one, reaching over to pick up the box. A thrum of bright energy coursed through his arm, warming up his fingertips with something steady, something… grounded. Adrien opened the box and was met with a bright, golden light. He flinched, eyes squeezed shut and arms raised defensively, dropping the box.

When the light died down, Adrien looked up and was face to face with some… creature. About small enough to fit inside the palm of his hand, bright red with one black spot on its forehead and one on each cheek. Its eyes were gold, and it had two antennae. 

“Hello,” Its voice was high pitched, and very feminine. “My name is Tikki, and I’m the Kwami of Creation. Right now, Paris is being attacked by a supervillain, and with my help, you can become a hero and save everyone!”

Adrien grinned, already raring up to get out there and start saving people. “Alright! Just tell me how to do that!”

Tikki shifted away a bit, hands (Are they hands?) raised in caution. “Hold on Adrien, there are a few things I need to explain first. The villain you’re fighting is also using a miraculous, the Butterfly. They can make allies with an Akuma, and it seems this Butterfly is evil! So you have to find the object that has a butterfly inside, break the objects, then crush the Akuma. It’s just a simple butterfly, so you should be able to do it!”

Adrien listened intently and frowned. “How will I know what the Akuma is in?” 

Tikki shook her head. “There’s no way to tell for sure, just trial and error, I suppose. Oh! If you ever need help, just call out ‘Lucky Charm’! Then you will summon an object that will aid you. You can’t control what the object will be, but you will use it to guarantee victory! But, and this is very important, if you use Lucky Charm, a timer will start, and you’ll have five minutes until you detransform, understand?”

He nodded, and leaned over to pick up the box. “I have to wear the earrings?” He guessed, already putting them in. Luckily, his father had his ears pierced a while ago, since men’s earrings were becoming fashionable now. 

“Yes! Now say ‘Tikki, Spots On’!”

Adrien inhaled deeply, the excitement coming back. “Tikki, Spots On!”

Ringing echoed in her head, and she wasn’t really able to register someone grabbing her hand and pulling her along. Her vision blurred and then came into painful clarity. In front of her was a bright blonde head, looking back with worried ice eyes. 

“Come on! You were way too close to dying, Cheng!” Her helper pulled her into a bathroom, probably a girl’s one, since they were both girls. 

“Don’ call me tha’.” Marinette slurred a bit, blinking rapidly and wincing. Two pairs of small hands rested on her shoulder, grounding her and slowly, slowly, Marinette started to feel normal again. “What happened?”

“Ivan attacked your classroom. You almost got hit by chunks of wall. Then I had to save your sorry ass even though you’re the superhero here.” Chloe snarked, her attitude betraying her fear. 

“Kid, you already know about Akuma, yeah?” Plagg asked, his form softer than normal. “That’s what the stone monster is. I know Nooroo’s work. But it seems this Akuma is evil.”

Chloe snapped her fingers, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, Kim was pestering Ivan and making fun of his size and everything before class. I bet that Kim did something during class, because Ivan tried to hit him. Bustier sent him to the principal’s office, but then a minute later a rock monster showed up hunting for Kim.”

Marinette sighed. “Of course, a rogue Miraculous. Just my luck.”

“I could help!” Chloe leaned into the smaller girls’ space. “I can use the Blue one, since you don’t use that one when you’re Ange!”

“No, you’re not using Duusu.” Marinette gently pushed Chloe away. “Their miraculous is broken. If you use it, you’ll die. Now I need to go and save the day. Stay safe, don’t die. Plagg, Claws Out!”

A flash of green and a salute later, Ange Noir stepped out of the restroom and immediately used her baton to rise to the roof, scouting for damage. Police sirens sounded from the Seine, and Ange Noir grimaced at the trail of destruction she had to follow, until she found Stone-Ivan surrounded by police officers and patrol cars. The men were shooting the monster, but the bullets did no damage, and made him even bigger.

“Hold your fire!” Ange Noir called, landing behind the wall of cops. “Your guns are making it worse! Let me handle everything.” Many of the police scoffed, but they still stopped firing with abandon. 

“What do you suggest?” One asked. He seemed to be in charge, large and ginger. 

Ange Noir looked at the giant, watching the way it started to lumber away, roaring (The roars sound like he’s calling for Kim.)

“Let me try something. Please make sure no one gets hurt!” Ange ran off, following the giant.

He was heading towards the Seine. Why?

“Ivan!” She took a risk by landing directly in front of the stone giant, letting him see her, plain as day. 

“No Ivan! Stoneheart!” the giant roared. Ange examined it and noticed one of his hands stayed closed. Maybe it was holding the Akuma? 

“Stoneheart! Why are you angry?” Ange wasn’t… sure why she was wasting time asking. Ivan or not, this stone giant didn’t seem to communicate well.

“KIM!” it yells, sounding less like a monstrous roar and more like a cry… an answer.

“I won’t hurt you! I’m a hero. I can help you!” Ange stepped closer, hand out. 

“Get away from it!” an unfamiliar voice called out, startling Stoneheart and causing it to anger again, running away to restart its rampage. Ange Noir turned to see who messed up her attempt to save Stoneheart, and was met with three new heroes. A Ladybug, a Monkey, and a Tiger. 

The green eyes of the Ladybug hero drew her in, something about his presence immediately calming whatever feral instinct Marinette unknowingly felt in her soul. The ground for my flames. A voice that sounded like Plagg’s came to her mind.

“Who are you guys?” Ange asked.

“We’re the new heroes!” Monkey crowed, entirely too loud. Tiger and Ladybug side-eyed their teammate.

This can’t be good… the only other place their miraculous could come from was the Guardian, who would most definitely teach them to hate and attack Ange. “I am your ally against the Akuma.” Ange Noir promised, hoping her words would stick. “Now, about Stoneheart—”

“Who?” Tiger asked, voice quiet… and she was shaking, whoever she was underneath the mask. Poor girl was probably thrust into the job with no explanation.

“Stoneheart is the Giant. He was a student named Ivan, who got possessed by an Akuma, an evil butterfly we need to destroy. Stoneheart seems to want to calm down, but everyone attacking him will only make him bigger and stronger. Understand?” The three nodded, and Ange grinned. “I want to try to talk to him, calming him down. It’ll be easier to grab whatever is in his left hand, all right?”

“What makes you the leader?” Monkey asks.

“She has experience.” Tiger mumbled. “And it seemed she had everything under control before we showed up.”

Ladybug was silent so far. Since he had the Ladybug Miraculous, it would make sense for leadership to fall under either him or Ange Noir, but Ange *really* didn’t trust him to not lead her to her defeat. 

“OH MY GOD!” someone squealed, and before anyone could react, a girl with curly hair was shoving her phone in everyone’s faces, yammering on about heroes and live footage. “Oh my God, what are your names? What are your powers? Are you government experiments or do you come from space?”

“Slow down, We can answer everything.” Ladybug interrupted, and was forced to lean back as the girl pressed way too close to him. “Uh…”

“What’s your name? Ladybug? Beetleman? Black Spot?”

“Uh, Um—Beetle–uh, bug? I–I don’t…” Ladybug stammered, stepping back, hands raised. His face was red under the mask, embarrassed and nervous?

“I’m Hanuman!” Monkey pulled the girl away from Ladybug, taking the spotlight. “And this is…” He gestured to Tiger, who was also blushing. 

“...Tigress.” Her voice, still soft, was decisive. 

It seemed the Girl was happy with all the answers, because she stepped away and started to speak into her phone. “Well, you heard them. It seems we have three new heroes to help out our Ange Noir: Beetlebug, Hanuman, and Tigress! Don’t worry Paris, I’m Alya Cesaire, and I’ll bring you more superhero news and behind the scenes shots on my Hero Blog, Name TBD.”

“Wait,” the newly dubbed Beetlebug tried to interrupt, but Alya wasn’t listening anymore, running off to follow Stoneheart. 

We’re going to have to watch her. Ange sighed. “Well, come on, Stoneheart isn’t getting any calmer.” 

The plan was simple; create an Akuma, let it wreck havoc across the city, and see what heroes show up. After the reveal of Ange Noir on the news, a hero who not only didn’t exist in his Grimoire, but also possessed the Peacock Miraculous, he knew he needed to strike. He had Nooroo teach him everything about the Butterfly Brooch, and now he was prepared.

Ange Noir must know what happened to his wife. And if it takes the destruction of Paris to make answers clear, then that was what Gabriel was willing to do.

Beetlebug had the wild idea to throw a car at Stoneheart. Ange simply shrugged and helped him, and when Stoneheart had both of his hands full, she understood what Beetlebug was getting at. 

“Think fast!” She called, throwing herself at the giant, and just like that, Stoneheart dropped whatever his Akuma was, and Tigress snuck in to grab it, tossing it to Beetlebug. 

As the transformation of the Akuma wore off, Ange Noir found herself face to face with Ivan, hunched over and looking around, confused. “You’re okay. We are here to help.” Ange offered, sparing a glance towards Beetlebug. He promptly squished the Akuma like a simple butterfly, and something felt… wrong.

Hanuman and Tigress started calming Ivan down, and Ange took the opportunity to walk over to Beetlebug. “Something feels wrong.” Ange Noir murmured. 

“Yeah.” Beetlebug agreed, keeping his voice low. “Something needs to happen, but I don’t know what. I was only told to crush it.”

They both looked down at the remains of the butterfly, still dark purple with power. A wing twitched, a leg moved. The antennae jerked around, and slowly, the akuma’s body healed itself, like watching time reverse. 

“I can’t crush it!” Beetle gasped, and the malevolent aura made Ange Noir feel sick. 

“Cataclysm.” Her voice was flat, and she gently tapped the body of the bug. Focus. The Akuma froze, and then shook off a thick layer of dust, revealing a bright white butterfly with silvery designs in its wings. Then the butterfly flew away, and for all appearances, it seemed to be a normal insect now. The feeling of wrongness melted away, 

Beetlebug watched it fly away, and quickly turned to Ange. “What was that?”

“Cataclysm is one of my powers,” Ange grinned, rolling her shoulders. “I destroyed the power that the Butterfly Miraculous charged it with.”

The hero raised an eyebrow, and opened to ask more questions, but was interrupted by Hanuman.

“So we saved Ivan, and you guys dealt with that bug. What now?” Everyone turned to look at the boy in question, who shuffled his feet, shoulders raised defensively. Ange Noir looked around, trying to see where in relation they were to the school. 

“Someone can take him to his school, or his home.” She suggests, looking down at her ring. “I used my power, so I have to go,” Ange explained and she turned away, and started running, turning into alleys and around tight corners, afraid of someone following.

A few minutes later, Marinette found herself back at Dupont, watching for a Superhero and Ivan. Sure enough, Beetlebug dropped down outside of the school, saying something to Ivan before sending him off.

As the hero waved goodbye to Ivan, his eyes met Marinette’s. Time, again, stopped. Marinette felt the rushing of blood and the breathless pull of a run, the type she did in her dreams. Right there was her second half. Right there was her supposed Opposite, the safe and known and loved.

And she? She was none of it. With her head held high, and with a stern nod, Marinette turned around and walked away. Defiant.

Adrien returned to his room with his father and Nathalie none the wiser about his disappearance. The television was still on, now describing the effort that went into clearing debris and plans to restore the destroyed buildings of Paris. 

“It’s a shame we can’t do anything to help with that.” Adrien sighed, flopping down on his couch and turning off the TV with the remote. 

“Maybe you could sneak away and help with cleaning up?” Tikki suggested, now taking the time to look around Adrien’s room. “I’m sure they will accept all the help they could get.”

Adrien tilted his head, humming in thought. “I couldn’t sneak away all the time, though. My father has me on a very tight schedule.”

Tikki turned to look at the boy. She was behind him, out of his line of sight. And quickly did the nature of Adrien’s life become clear to her. It was obvious in the room full of anything a teenage boy could want. A room so large and lifeless and devoid of heart and spirit. Tikki knew her owner was creative. But there were no signs of his creative potential. A piano stood near the window, ivories dusty and most likely out of tune. A room so large and devoid of the thing Adrien wanted more than anything. 

Love.

     Tuesday September 4, 2012

Dupont didn’t let a silly issue like being attacked by a giant stop it from continuing on like normal. After all, the only affected rooms were the eighth-year rooms, and they could simply move classrooms. So Adrien found himself waiting for Chloe, because he didn’t even know where the original classroom was, let alone where a whole new classroom would be.

“I’m glad Nathalie let you come today.” Tikki poked her head out of Adrien’s jacket. 

“Yeah, it’s really out of character for her. But I’m grateful anyway.”

“Adrien!” a high-pitched voice called out, and Adrien turned to see a blonde bullet running at him and ramming into him, forcing him into a hug. “You came! I thought it was all hopeless after yesterday!” Chloe stepped away and immediately started fixing her hair, which wasn’t in any obvious disarray.

“Hi Chloe.” Adrien smiled broadly. A few other students looked outside to see what all the commotion was, and all Adrien could think to do was awkwardly wave.

“Come on! I need to show you to everyone!” Chloe grabbed Adriens hand and started to drag him into the school, ignoring the rest of the building and taking him to what seemed to be the cafeteria. “This is where the Eighth Years were moved.” She explains, finally letting go of Adrien and striding to the fold-up tables and chairs that made up the impromptu classrooms.

Chloe approached two kids, a red-headed boy and a familiar girl. Adrien’s eyes widened. That was the girl staring at Ladybug yesterday, anger in her eyes. She had something about her that made him feel… different.

“Cheng, Weird Kid, I have someone to show you.” Chloe boasted, and Adrien really wanted his introduction to school to be more… low-key.

“We have names.” The redhead eyed Adrien warily.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” The girl, despite being so short, had a voice that rang with authority, and she seemed bigger than Chloe, who was taller. “If you have to call me by my last name, then call me by my whole name.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, losing the superiority she had before. “Fine, Dupain-Cheng. Come see my friend.”

“Hello.” Adrien waved, hoping these kids would like him, especially the girl. 

“Nathaniel.” The boy introduced himself, curling up and starting to sketch into a notebook. Maybe he was already done with the conversation?

“I’m Marinette!” The shorter girl held out a hand. “I’m not in your class, but I’m friends with Nathaniel and… Chloe, I guess.” 

Chloe flinched, but made no comment. Adrien raised an eyebrow. Weird. “I’m Adrien Agreste.” He whispered, afraid of people either acting like fangirls or thinking he was going to act just like Chloe. He loves her, of course, she was his only friend. But sometimes Adrien thought she was too rude. He shook Marinette’s hand.

“Like, Gabriel Fashion, Agreste?” Marinette asked, eyes wide. Adrien hesitantly nodded. “Oh my God! I love fashion! I have so many clippings of his designs in my room!” 

Chloe scoffed. “What about my mom? She’s a better designer than Gabriel is.” 

Marinette shook her head softly. “I mean, the builds and silhouettes are good, but I don’t like the colors or textures she uses. Not that Gabriel is perfect either! His clothes can be very stiff or bland sometimes, but I don’t think he has as many flaws as Aubrey does. N-Not that your dad himself had flaws I mean his clothes and not that Audrey is flawed–I mean, she fires a lot of people and they’ve said some bad things about her—But I’m sure she’s—”

“Relax.” Nathaniel wrapped an arm over her shoulder, placing his hand over her mouth, stopping her nervous tirade. Marinette had started speaking faster than Adrien could really understand, and her hands were waving wildly. “Deep breaths, okay?” He moved his hand away, and Marinette followed his instructions, taking a deep inhale.

“Why do you do that?” Chloe was examining her nails, probably ignoring what Marinette said about Audrey Bourgeois. Adrien couldn’t help but flounder a bit at her… non-confrontational attitude. This isn’t the same Chloe he had to deal with during fancy parties they had to attend growing up. Was it Marinette? What about Marinette made Chloe act so differently?

“I don’t know. I just… get nervous.” Marinette looked over her shoulder. “I should get to class. See you!” 

The three said their goodbyes, and Chloe once again dragged Adrien to sit near the front of the classroom, in between her and another boy with a red hat.

“Hello.” Adrien introduced himself as he sat down. “I’m Adrien.”

The boy gave him a skeptical expression. “You’re friends with Chloe?” 

Adrien groaned. Really? Was Chloe so bad as to have ruined his chance at friends before he could even try? “She was my only friend growing up.” He explained, irritated. 

The boy stared for a second, then held up a fist. “Dude, you need some better friends. Name’s Nino.”

“Thanks.”

Marinette passed the fencing class on her way to the art room. It took a bit for her to find it, since she was in a different building, after all. The map she got before the school year started said the Art room was 112A… 

Okay, 100 is the first floor, and A means it’s on the left… twelve doors down…

There!

Marinette opened the door and was greeted by Juleka, Nathaniel, and Alix. Two more students Marinette didn’t recognize sat in their own corners. 

“Wassup!” Alix said as a greeting, spray cans in hand, now starting a new mural on a fresh canvas. 

“Hey!” Marinette looked around, and didn’t see a teacher. “Is it the same as last year?” 

Juleka nodded. “Yeah, M. Monlataing told us the room was free after school. But only for an hour and a half.”

Marinette gave her a nod and grabbed some charcoal, holding on desperately to the Tigress-themed pantsuit that had been stuck in her head all day. She had risked taking one of her proper sketchbooks to school, since Chloe was supposed to be friendlier now. 

The sketch came through exactly how she imagined, sharp and regal, incorporating the elaborate Panjas bracelet that was the Miraculous. Necklaces and piercings draped over her sketched model, darker dots that betrayed the feral attitude Marinette was going for. 

“Oh, what’s that?” Juleka leaned over, and Marinette had to fight the urge to cover her paper. Juleka wouldn’t be mean to her work… right?

“Oh, it’s a pantsuit. I based it off of Tigress.”

Juleka paused. “The… from yesterday?”

“Mmhmm.” Marinette handed the sketchbook to her, and Juleka looked it over, with either scrutiny or appreciation… Marinette wasn’t sure. “I like how her outfit looks. I know it’s mostly spandex, but the colors are beautiful.”

The taller girl didn’t say anything, merely handing the sketchbook back with shaking hands. “It looks good.” Juleka’s voice was hoarse. 

Marinette nodded in thanks and found herself not knowing what to say. Juleka didn’t seem to want to talk about heroes, but Marinette couldn’t think of anything else to change the topic towards. Juleka looked a little lost, standing alone at a canvas, still blank. Alone?

“Where’s Luka?” The boy had warmed up a little to Marinette during the last year, though he was still very… angry and rash. Marinette guessed it was a protective instinct that he didn’t know how to show, causing him to lash out. They were like Fire and Ice, the two twins. 

“He’s doing homeschool.” Juleka answered, finally picking up a brush and dipping it into yellow paint. “Mom said he got into too many fights.”

“Ah.” Marinette responded. Finally feeling the conversation was over, she stood up and waved goodbye. There was something Marinette needed to do.

Adrien came home from fencing practice to see Nathalie standing in the foyer with a short man. He wore a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, old and balding. Adrien couldn’t figure out why Natalie, or even his father, would spend time around someone dressed like that, but maybe there was a good reason?

“Adrien, this is Mr. Li. He will be your new Chinese instructor for the next few months.” Nathalie looked down at her clipboard, probably his full schedule for the next five years. 

“What happened to Ms. Tian?” Adrien stepped forward, aware of the charged energy in the room. Something was off. Something bad is going to happen, he was sure of it.

“She is on maternity leave. Now, go to your room, and grab your books so Mr. Li knows what level you’re at.” Nathalie gave the new tutor a firm nod, then walked away, which seemed… out of character, somehow. 

Adrien watched her walk away, and turned towards Mr. Li. He smiled warmly at the boy, which did little to ease his irrational anxiety. Adrien wordlessly led the tutor upstairs, down the halls, and outside his room, intending to grab his books, then head to the room Ms. Tian usually used for tutoring. But Mr. Li let himself inside, quickly shutting the door. Adrien opened his mouth to scream, only to be stopped by Tikki, who just revealed herself to this stranger?

“Adrien! It’s okay, this is the Guardian!” Tikki pleaded. “He’s the one who chose you to wield me!”

“She’s right Adrien.” Mr. Li (The Guardian?) stepped farther into the room, pulling out a thin notebook. “I have chosen you as the Ladybug wielder, the leader of the new Miraculous team, tasked with saving Paris from both the Butterfly and the Beast Miraculous.”

Adrien gaped, speechless. So, he’s the leader? It seemed Ange would be the unofficial leader yesterday, since she was the most experienced out of the four of them. And… the Beast? What the hell is that?

“My real name is Wang Fu. apologies for the lie, but I think it’s wise to not let anyone know my identity right now.” Mr. Fu (What does Adrien call him now??) smiled, kneeling at the coffee table in front of Adriens couch, placing the small notebook and opening it. “Originally, I planned for you and your team to figure out how to be heroes yourselves, to see what type of people you would be. It was only after I was one hundred percent sure that you could handle it that I wanted to reveal myself and start teaching you the secrets of the Order.”

Adrien slowly stepped forward, kneeling at the table and taking a glance at the thin notebook. It was written in a language that he couldn’t recognize.

“But sadly, Paris is fighting two threats at once. And I fear leaving you with no guidance, no knowledge. So I will prepare you now. Today, and for the next little bit, I will be teaching you Guardian Script, the language that all our teachings were written in.”

“Um,” Adrien’s brow furrowed, wrinkles be damned. “What are we fighting? The Butterfly, I get. But what about the… Beast?” Tikki landed on his shoulder, antennae drooped. 

Fu pursed his lips, staring out the window for a moment. “Ange Noir.”

“What?” Adrien thought over yesterday, going over everything he could remember Ange saying or doing.

”I am your ally against the akuma.”

“The Kwami that resides in the Ring of Destruction can portray itself as a benevolent creature, a black cat, it seems.” Fu growled. “I believe it has manipulated its way into Ange’s young heart, and eventually, it will corrupt her, bringing about a destructive demon that can obliterate anything and everything.” Adrien looked at Tikki, but she refused to meet his eyes. “That’s what fighting the beast entails. Try to take the ring so I can destroy it. Meanwhile… do your best to make sure the girl underneath the mask stays good.”

The holder of the Ladybug Miraculous swallowed his nerves away. What a mission to be placed on him. Fighting a Butterfly User and Ange Noir, who has been doing this hero thing for who knows how long?

“But for now, let’s get started with Guardian Script.”

Juleka wasn’t sure she was supposed to be a hero. The box was on her bed, sure, but what if it was meant for Luka? Luka seems like he’d be a magnificent tiger. Sure, he had some anger issues, but at least he’d be able to, you know, talk in front of new people. 

But Luka said no to the jeweled glove and said he supported Tigress all the way. Well, shit.

Tigress didn’t have anything as flashy as ‘Make whatever you want’ or ‘destroy whatever you want’ powers. Just Invisibility. While that didn’t seem too useful in the battle against Stoneheart today, it was a power that Juleka wished she could have in her day-to-day life.

“Miss, you’re going to be okay!” The Kwami, Roaar, comforted. “I can hear you worrying from here!” xe chuckled, whizzing around her room. The small Tiger’s maroon form crackled with energy, and xe was often moving and dancing, oddly enough. The excitement made Juleka feel… exhausted. 

“Thanks.” Juleka responded absently, pulling out her phone and looking at the news for the millionth time since yesterday. They were covering the slow and large-scale rebuilding of the city, talking about theories of what exactly happened, and who the new heroes were. Alya’s shaky and amateur footage was the best of all the heroes, and Juleka felt sort of bad for the Ladybug boy, whose blunder was now immortalized forever on the newly named Beetleblog, featuring the adventures of Beetlebug, Ange Noir, Hanuman, and Tigress. 

“How helpful would we be at helping with the damages?” Juleka hummed, closing her phone and letting the houseboats’ familiar rocking comfort her. 

“I’d think we’d be super helpful,” Roaar rested on her stomach. “We’re super strong and durable, and it would be good for everyone to see you doing something.”

Juleka nodded. “Alright then.”

Ange Noir was already there, pulling large chunks of concrete into a pile. Tigress showed up and helped her with a particularly stubborn piece, being held down by a twisted steel beam. 

“Oh, hi!” Ange huffed, shaking her hands. “Are you helping clean up?”

Tigress nodded, a familiar numbness on her tongue. Being a hero was an immense responsibility, and what if she said something stupid? And, and what if someone recognized her voice? Roaar said that wouldn’t happen, but Juleka only met xem yesterday. She couldn’t exactly trust the magical flying tiger to tell the truth. 

“All right! You can ask the guy in the red hard hat where he needs you.” Ange smiled and went back to her task. 

“Thanks.” Tigress whispered, and went over to the man in charge, and was tasked with moving the rubble next to Ange’s section. It was too far for them to talk to each other, but Tigress envied the way the black blur fluidly leapt from the uneven floor to the tops of the fallen walls. 

How does she do it?

After almost an hour of shifting, moving, and sweating, Tigress huffed in exhaustion and sat down for a bit, admiring her work. The rubble was almost completely clear; the pile having cast a shadow over the abandoned street. 

A shout to her right caught Tigress’ attention, and the heroine stood up, alert. Another shout, and Tigress leapt onto a roof, looking for the source of the noise. A few buildings away stood Ange Noir and… Beetlebug? Curious, Tigress quickly approached, using the stealth that her Miraculous naturally gifted her as she got closer. She was able to hear what the two were fighting about.

“Plagg isn’t a monster! He’s a cat for crying out loud!” Ange Noir had her shoulders raised, crouched like a cornered feline.

“Sure, he seems okay, but the Guardian told me—” Beetlebug made a grab for Ange’s hand, but she swiftly dodged.

“I am your ally, you stupid bug!” Ange had a warning tone in her voice. “How do you know this Guardian is any good?”

Beetlebug ignored the warning, lunging again for her hand. “Give me your ring!”

“We need to protect Paris!” Ange cried, leaping away. “I am your balance! Surely you feel that too?” 

The blonde growled and feinted right, grabbing Ange Noir’s left hand and raising it high, leaving Ange on her tippy toes. Tigress didn’t realize the dark hero was so short. Beetlebug reached for the right hand, but Ange was able to keep it just out of reach.

“STOP! PLEASE STOP!” Ange was now panicking, squirming, and trying to keep away. A shiver climbed up Tigress’s spine, and she readied herself to intervene, but got distracted by a bright light. 

The white butterfly from earlier. It fluttered by, so delicate, grabbing the attention of the two fighting heroes. Ange took the opportunity to pull her hand away, but it seemed Beetlebug was too entranced by the butterfly. 

“Do you hear it?” He asked. Ange Noir turned to the white bug and slowly nodded, even though Beetlebug couldn’t see her response. Beetlebug raised a hand, and the Butterfly landed on his open palm. Slowly, weakly, a golden light gathered towards the wings. Ange stepped closer, captivated. She held out her own hand, and the butterfly crawled over, and the golden light was mixed with red, the silvery lines pulsated with black, and the Butterfly took off, radiating a sort of… power. 

Tigress watched as the Butterfly rose into the air, the gold and red light flaring out, similar to fire, to magma. The rays burst out, covering the city. Tigress felt the light get absorbed by her body, and a single word imprint into her mind.

Fèng.

When the light faded away, Tigress was shocked to find herself standing on the roof of a complete building. Looking around, she was able to see… everything back to normal, before Stoneheart. Everything was… fixed. 

“Tigress?” Beetlebug finally noticed his teammate. “What are you doing here?”

“She was helping me clean up.” Ange Noir replied for her. “Unlike someone I know.”

Beetlebug scoffed, and opened his mouth to retaliate, but Tigress jumped in between the both of them. “Stop! You guys just undid all the damage done yesterday, and you’re already back to fighting? Shut the hell up and start fucking working together! At least while we’re dealing with akumas!” Juleka’s voice suddenly wasn’t her own, but the faint echo of Roaar, a vibration in her throat that rang with starlight and nebulas, a small reminder that Kwami’s were magical beings. 

How powerful are they? Tigress wondered (Juleka was afraid of the answer)

“Sorry.” Ange spoke openly, agreeable. Tigress thinks she doesn’t want to fight either. Then the problem was Beetlebug. What was his deal then? Tigress stared down at the boy, taking advantage of her height over him. 

“Fine,” Beetlebug groaned. “I’ll be civil during Akuma. But the moment you do anything, and I mean anything suspicious, I won’t hesitate to take your ring.”

Ange Noir thought it over. “Okay then. See you.” And with that, she leapt away, quickly fading into the distance. Tigress wanted to yell at Beetlebug for scaring her off, but honestly, her outburst just now was already too much noise.

“I’m leaving too.” She announced, not wanting to spend any more time around Beetlebug.

“Wait!” He put his hand on her shoulder. Tigress froze. “You can’t trust Ange!” 

She gave him a stare. “Why?” Tigress asked mildly, already half a mind ready to ignore whatever he said right now.

“Ange may seem nice, but her Miraculous is evil, it’s going to corrupt her. It’s the ring of Destruction, and if it takes control over her…” Beetlebug removed his hand from Tigress’s shoulder.

“Who told you that?” She asked. Honestly, Tigress wasn’t sure someone who would say such wild things could be trusted.

“The Guardian of the Miraculous. He’s the one who chose us.” 

Tigress watched Beetlebug, earnest in expression, slowly losing the surety that glimmered in his green eyes. Someone just says they’re a Guardian? Sure, whoever it was probably brought proof. Maybe Beetle’s Kwami said so. 

“Does evil do this?” Tigress gestured to the fixed Parisian landscape. “It took both of your powers to do this. Surely, that means you guys should work together?”

Beetlebug didn’t answer. After a moment, he simply zipped away, using his yo-yo for transportation. The silence unnerved Tigress, who mindlessly headed her own way home. 

     Friday September 7, 2012

‘Please come to the Louvre as soon as possible.’

Marinette looked down at her phone for the millionth time, checking the text from Alim again. She stood outside of the glass pyramid, Plagg and Duusu resting in her backpack. Where was she supposed to find Alim? She didn’t want to get lost in the museum and waste his time, but surely standing outside wasn’t what the man wanted either?

“Yo! What’re you doing here?” Alix snuck up on the girl, who only minimally jumped. Wordlessly, Marinette showed the girl the text on her phone. “Oh, do you know where his office is?” 

“Um, No.” Marinette flushed. All of their lessons happened in the storage room, and after Alim had the tapestry moved to his home, there as well.

“Follow me then.” Alix walked inside with the speed of someone who wasn’t hopelessly lost every time she visited this place. Marinette kept up all right, looking around and trying her best to memorize the way. It wasn’t too far a walk, thankfully, only a room or two away from the Entrance. 

“Welp, have fun.” Alix gave a two-finger salute and turned around. 

“Where are you going?” Marinette tilted her head.

Alix grinned. “My brother’s in charge of the ancient Egypt wing. They want him to rearrange it. I’m gonna make it fun for him.” And then she turned a corner and was gone.

Marinette stood still for a moment, then turned to knock on the door. Alim opened it, mouth a straight line. 

“Marinette.” He greeted. “I think I have an upcoming exhibit that you would enjoy.” And with no other explanation, Alim left his office and started to walk away. What was with the Kubdel’s and walking away? Curious, Marinette quickly followed, short legs moving as fast as they could (Why was Alim running?)

“Here.” He announced, arriving at a room closed off by a portable wall and kept safe by a guard. “She’s with me,” Alim explained, using a set of keys to open a hidden door, and gesturing to Marinette to go through. 

Inside was dark, and obviously under construction, but the back wall immediately caught Marinette’s attention. There… at least twenty familiar tapestries hung on the wall, protected by glass. Starstruck, Marinette got closer, inspecting the words embroidered in. They told of twelve animals coming down, bringing some blessing or attribute to the worthy, all for the betterment of humanity. Then came the elements. Heart, Metal and Water, Air and Wood. And then, finally, hundreds of years later, the last two revealed themselves. 

The tapestry was beautiful, detailing a yellow sun and a red moon, with a red and black center. Yin and Yang, two halves of the same whole, Earth and Fire. The next two tapestries detailed both of them individually, a far more intimate description than any other Miraculous received.

Earth was the mother of our home, our crops and our minds. She was the matriarch of hearth and kingdoms. Luck and Love guided those who were her worthy.

Fire burned at the walls with which we barricaded ourselves from the glory of the world, a universal longing to know, to see the universe in its scope. He provided Knowledge to those who were his worthy.

Together, they were balance. They were humanity; they were enlightenment. We must strive for their magnitude, Adventure and Home.

Marinette examined the depictions of Plagg and the Ladybug Kwami. Words couldn’t begin to describe the emotion welling up inside her soul, the ring on her finger beating and somewhere, an awareness of earrings beat in the back of her mind. 

“I thought you might find these interesting.” Alim stood next to her, something hidden in his eyes.

“Where… Where did you find these?” Marinette forced herself to look at him, ripping her gaze from the tapestry. 

Alim smiled with the corner of his mouth. “An abandoned and destroyed temple hidden in the depths of a Tibetan mountain range. I bid for these to come here to the Louvre a few months ago. Originally, I just wanted to show off the history, to you and to Paris. But then… after what happened the other day.” Alim trailed off, hand on his chin. “I know these superheroes are the spirits shown here.”

Marinette froze. “How?” 

“Your ring.” Alim kneeled down, making sure Marinette was taller than him. “‘The Flames of Knowledge are without limits.’ I have good reason to believe that I am, in fact, in the presence of Ange Noir, correct?”

She couldn’t say anything, staring at him and the ring, back and forth. No one should know her identity! Chloe was an accident, but Alim could simply tell? Why? Plagg said there was magic, why was Alim able to just bypass it?

“Calm down, kid.” Plagg flew out of her backpack, his paws on her cheeks. “Take a breath, bread.”

“Holy shit!” Alim leapt to his feet, arm raised in self-defense. “W-what is that?” 

“What, didn’t expect an actual god?” Plagg turned around to tease. “Fire and Knowledge, at your service!” He grinned, two teeth shining through the smoke around his body. 

“What are you doing?” Marinette’s voice was high pitched and panicky, body suddenly feeling heavy. 

Everyone was silent for a moment, Alim and Marinette staring at Plagg, waiting for something, anything. Plagg floated towards Marinette.

“Kid, He knows. And after all the lessons he gave you, I think you can trust him.” He spun to face Alim. “You can call me Plagg. I’m a Kwami, the Kwami of Destruction, mostly.”

Alim slowly nodded. “Nice to meet you.” His voice was flat. Nervous. He eyed the tapestry. “So, that’s you? You and… Beetlebug’s Kwami?” 

“Yeah.” Plagg responded, tendrils reaching out. “I’m surprised they even kept me in the stories, what with how much they hate me.”

“Who?” Alim asked, eyes sparkling. Marinette took the chance to sit down on a pallet of boxes, taking deep breaths. 

Plagg spent the next half hour explaining how he was struck from the Order’s records, how the Order formed and the Kwami’s coming down to bless humanity. He explained how Marinette found him, and later, found Duusu (Who revealed themself as well) and then Duusu answered questions about their powers and their history with the Order, since she was around for much longer than Plagg was. 

“Why?” Marinette finally found the courage to croak. “Why did he figure it out?”

Duusu and Plagg looked at each other. “I don’t know.” Duusu offered. “Maybe ‘cause he’s smart? And already knew Guardian Script?”

Taking the answer for what it was, Marinette then turned to Alim. “Why tell me you knew? I’m glad you did, but… why show me this? Why… everything, really?”

Alim approached her carefully, sitting beside her on the boxes. “I wasn’t going to, originally. I wanted to show you what we found because we spent so long pouring over only one tapestry, and here was the complete story. After Stoneheart, and after the Butterfly that fixed Paris, I knew you were going to need someone on your side. 

“I… took notice of how little you spoke about your parents. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t have a good relationship with them, I assume?” Marinette didn’t say anything. The lack of response made Alim frown. “I want you to know I’m cheering for you. You’re a special kid, Marinette. You deserve to have someone to talk to. Even if it’s just me.”

Marinette ignored the burning in her eyes. Plagg and Duusu rested in her arms, providing a weighted comfort. “Thank you.” She forced out, voice thick and throat tight. 

Alim respond, and simply sat beside her, tapestries ahead of them, beautiful artwork in dim light.

Chapter Text

     Thursday September 20, 2012

School went on as normal. Nathaniel sat through two weeks of boring classes, talking to Marinette during lunch and after school. No more monsters made an appearance, but Ange Noir and Beetlebug told the public it was simply a matter of time.

The new girl, Alya, started a blog, simply titled ‘BeetleBlog’, and put up her video introducing the new heroes. She recorded the defeat of Stoneheart and the destruction of the Akuma.

Somehow, Alya got an interview with Ange Noir, asking about, well, everything. 

“So, what’s with the butterflies?”

“Akumas. Currently, there is someone who is using the Butterfly Miraculous for evil. They seem to target people feeling powerful emotions, turning them into super villains.”

“Can you clarify Miraculous, please?”

“Oh… It’s what gives me and my fellow heroes our powers. They’re entrusted to us, and we use them to protect the citizens of Paris.”

“And, one last thing: What do we do with those who were turned into super villains?”

“They’re victims. Akumatized victims. The Butterfly holder is the true evil. They are very manipulative, and they’re able to make even the most irrational of thoughts seem rational. Have you ever been wronged? Or frustrated? Wanting to get back at someone, or go on a destructive rampage? The Butterfly Holder wants you to hold on to those feelings, to never let go of your emotions. Again, they make you think that this course of action is logical. Never hold this against the victims. They don’t remember what happened. They aren’t evil.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I’ve been learning about the Butterfly Miraculous ever since Stoneheart. It helps to know your enemy. Now, I need to finish patrol, gotta go!”

Nathaniel watched the interview about a million times, and the next day at school, everyone was hounding Ivan for questions, who only proved that Ange Noir was correct. He didn’t remember anything; he was just… angry. But he wasn’t angry anymore and was glad that Ange stood up for him.

Nathaniel subscribed to the blog and found himself drawing the new heroes, wondering when the next attack was going to happen. 

M. Rochefort went on about geography, the layers of the earth and the makeup of a lot of rocks. Nathaniel looked over at his desk partner, the kid with a red hat, snoozing and trying his best to hide it. Nathaniel wasn’t sure he was doing too good at hiding it. But M. Rochefort didn’t mention it, so whatever. 

It was a lot harder than Nathaniel thought to be separated from Marinette. The only classes they shared were P.E. and lunch period, which made talking to her and sharing art ideas a pain to attempt. Especially since Chloe was always trying to steal Marinette for herself, despite Marinette’s best efforts. Honestly, watching the blonde have a death-grip on his best friend made the lack of bullying almost not worth it. And when she wasn’t able to steal Marinette, Chloe tried to steal Adrien.

The guy seemed fine, really handsome. Adrien seemed friends with the red hat kid, but Chloe forced him to sit next to her during Geography, so Nathaniel was left to sit next to the red hat kid. And sure, Nathaniel could switch seats with Adrien, but like hell was he going to sit next to Chloe. She was scary, and would probably threaten him and his bloodline for ever daring to take Adrien away from her. 

The bell rang, and Nathaniel stood up, ready to leave immediately. Next period was music, something Nathaniel had no talent for. He passed by Marinette on her way to her history class, which M. Rochefort taught as well. She gave him a quick side hug, only for Chloe to steal her. Again.

“Cheng! I need to ask you…” Nathaniel didn’t care to hear more, moving away and heading to his class. So what if Chloe was late? She never got in trouble anyway.

Nathaniel was one of the first students to arrive in class and sat down at his station. 

“Mr. Hapréle?” 

“Yes?” The teacher shuffled papers at his desk, watching the other students file in.

“Do I have to play today? I swear I’m causing eardrum damage. It’s in everyone else’s best interests that I skip playing today.” Nathaniel looked down at his instrument case he left at school most days. Dupont didn’t have any violins, and Nathaniel had lost interest in them a few months back, stupidly giving it away. Which meant he was stuck with the stupid flute.

“Yeah, Normally I would say you should keep practicing,” Alya popped in, looking both shocked and far too casual. “But if I have to sit next to him for another class then I’m gonna go deaf.” She plopped down at her chair, holding her own school sanctioned flute.

Mr. Hapréle frowned at the two, sighing. “It’s been a week, guys.” He said it like his response explained everything. Which it didn’t. But Nathaniel almost didn’t care enough to fight back. Why was music the only class he couldn’t doodle in?

“Dude.” Alya nudged him. “I think Chloe is hiding something.” 

Nathaniel gave her a look. She was the new kid in class, other than Adrien. Alya didn’t have someone to talk to in between or out of classes, so she made do by talking to whoever was her period partner… Music being Nathaniel’s turn, of course. The artist glanced at the clock. Three minutes till class starts. Dang it. “What makes you say that?” He mumbles, watching the teacher greet his daughter Mylene. 

“She’s all secretive around that Dupain-Cheng girl. And she glared at me when I looked at her. All hush hush like.”

“Marinette?” Nathaniel wished people would quit calling his friend by her last name. Really, did Alya not know it at all? “And Chloe’s always glaring.”

“Not at you!” Alya whispers fiercely. Oh. Maybe there was more than one reason why she wanted to talk to him. It’s not like Chloe was his friend. She merely let him stick around because Marinette said so. 

(The newfound power Marinette had over the mayor’s daughter bugged Nathaniel. That wasn’t merely friendship, he didn’t think. But then again, who could be friends with Chloe?)

“Chloe still hates me.” Nathaniel dismisses Alya as subtlety as possible. At least, he tries.

“What if she’s hiding something… Miraculous?” Alya wiggles her eyebrows, staring at the fashionably late-to-arrive devil herself, sitting near the front with her clarinet, next to that one shy girl, Sabrina. 

“... What?” Nathaniel asked, deadpan. Miraculous? Like, Like the Superheroes? Chloe didn’t even look like any of them! Though, the only one who she really couldn’t be for sure was Ange Noir… And maybe the boys. But that left Tigress… who did have her hair in a ponytail, but she seemed too… timid to be Chloe. 

Wait, why was he entertaining the thought?

“Think about it!” Alya took a deep breath, ready to start a spiel with ‘evidence’ that Nathaniel didn’t want to hear, but thank his lucky stars Mr. Hapréle started class, interrupting her. 

Though the conversation was far from over, he feared.

P.E. was a very hard class for Marinette. Not because it was difficult, but because it was surprisingly easy. All that work from being Ange just made her really… athletic, against her will. Today was a simple football game, to promote running and awful things like that. M. D-Argencourt chose the teams at random, and Marinette was lucky to be with Nathaniel. They weren’t really able to talk during the fake game, but still. It was nice to be on the same team. 

They were both guards for the goal, the last line of defense before everything rested on the goalies shoulders. a cheap red net shirt covered their gym shirts, staring down the blue team. 

“I hate sports.” Nathaniel groaned. 

“Me too.” Marinette grinned, jerking back to attention at the sound of the whistle. The kids on the front line were at it, kicking the ball and running down the court, leaving the two to do nothing but wait. “Is it cheating to have Kim on our team?” She wondered.

“Maybe?” Nathaniel shrugged, passively watching the first goal be made. The red team cheered. “Less work for me.” Marinette only had time to roll her eyes before the match started again, and Ondine from her class shot directly at her. Marinette leapt forward, kicking the ball away, a clean arc directly to the opposing team’s side of the court.

They played like that for forty-five minutes, with the red team winning 4 - 2. The sporty and competitive kids cheered on their way to the locker rooms, ready for showers and to rub their win into everyone else’s face. Marinette was not one of them, taking her time to grab her clothes. The showers would be busy right now, and her next period was lunch, so there wasn’t an actual need to hurry anyway. 

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” A girl screeched, unfortunately familiar to Marinette. With a sigh, she stood up to see what was wrong with Chloe now. 

She was head to head against one girl from Ms. Bustier’s class, snarling about privacy and other stuff. There was a phone on the floor between them, the screen shattered. 

“What is going on?” Marinette asked, stepping into view. Chloe didn’t turn to look at her, but the new girl flinched back, eyes wide. 

“Cesaire was going through my stuff and taking pictures, like a fucking creep!” Chloe’s face was red, her tone accusatory. 

“I’m not creeping! I was looking for evidence!” Cesaire defended herself, a pretty weak retort if Marinette were to judge. Which it seemed she was going to have to. 

“For what?” Alix raised a brow, watching the fight with a scary aura of excitement. 

“She’s Tigress!” Alya declared, pointing at Chloe, finger so close to the blonde’s nose that she had to cross her eyes to look at it. 

“What?” Juleka’s head popped around the corner, confused. “No, she isn’t!” 

“What makes you so sure?” Alya crossed her arms, smug. Juleka started to stammer, but Alya ignored her and continued. “She’s obviously hiding something, she keeps whispering to her,” A gesture towards Marinette, “And talking about the Heroes when she thinks no one is listening.”

Chloe glances at Marinette, looking like a deer in headlights. Marinette needs to step in, quickly. 

“Marinette sews.” Juleka says, voice firm. “She’s designing a Tigress suit, and probably stuff for the other heroes, I bet.” 

“Really? Can I see?” A small blonde wearing pink comes out of nowhere and hangs off of Marinette’s arm, blue eyes sparkling.

“Uh, sure?”

“Alya Cesaire.” The locker room suddenly becomes silent. Everyone turns to see Ms. Mendeleiev standing in the doorway, lips pursed and posture imposing. “You were going through your classmates’ locker?” Her voice was firm, but not loud, though it might have been screaming compared to the deathly silence. 

Alya didn’t respond, face pale.

“Come with me. And Miss Bourgeois? Watch your language when you are on school property.” The teacher left, and Alya scooped up the remains of her phone and ran after her, shaky. 

No one said anything for a few minutes, slowly getting back to their after P.E. routines. Marinette watched Chloe, whose expression was too complicated to understand at a glance.

Juleka ate lunch with Rose, slowly slipping chunks of pineapple to the small creature in her bag. The events of the locker room were… unnerving, to say the least. Chloe as Tigress? Juleka couldn’t wrap her head around the logical leaps Alya must’ve made to come to that conclusion. Sure, Chloe had the forceful personality that a superhero needed… but she didn’t seem selfless enough to actually go through with being one. Sure, she’s acting loads better this year than last year, but Juleka was pretty sure the change in attitude had something to do with Ange Noir saving her last summer. 

Oh. Juleka glanced at the blonde, sitting with Marinette and Nathaniel, whining about Adrien’s absence, having been called away for a photoshoot. Chloe probably did know something about superheroes, since she was the first one to meet Ange so… publicly. Sure, maybe someone could think the mayor’s daughter had some sort of connection to Superheroes, but enough to be seen as one of them? Surely not. After all, Juleka couldn’t give Ange Noir all the credit, Marinette seems to have a big part to play with Chloe’s attitude, an even bigger and more obvious one than Ange Noir ever did. And Marinette wasn’t connected to the Superheroes in any way. 

Would it be too obvious to ask Marinette to make a Tigress suit for her? Probably one darker than the maroon of her actual super suit, since actually wearing similar colors could give away her identity. Juleka opened her phone, intending to go onto Pinterest to look for some sort of color scheme she could show to Marinette if she ever got the courage to ask Marinette for a suit. But her phone screen flashes white, a bright beam that blinds her and makes her throw her phone. 

The cafeteria is full of shouts and yells, multiple students throwing their phones, lights dancing everywhere. A dark figure forms from the shadows, violet eyes glowing. A girl, wearing a black Spandex suit with white hands and feet stepped out, curly hair dyed that same reddish-violet, smirking. 

“Akuma!” Marinette calls, and the students take a second before they leap back in fear. The Akuma cackles.

“I am Lady Wi-Fi, revealer of the Truth!” She announces, arms wide. Juleka notices the phone in her hand. Between that, and her hair and Lady Wi-Fi’s supposed purpose, Juleka had a pretty good idea who this Akuma was supposed to be. “Chloe Bourgeois, prepare for your secrets to be brought to light, whether good or bad.” Lady Wi-Fi turned towards Chloe, who had Marinette standing in front of her. The Akuma frowns at the small girl’s interference.

I need to step in, Juleka realizes, searching for a way to step away and transform without being super obvious. The various phones on the floor caught her eye. Lady Wi-Fi used them to teleport. “Why are you phone themed?” Her mouth asked before her brain could force her to stop. 

Lady Wi-Fi stared at her, confused, almost as if she didn’t know the answer either. A silvery butterfly outlined her face around the domino mask Juleka realized Lady Wi-Fi was wearing. The Butterfly faded away, and the confusion quickly turned into anger. 

“RUN!” A student screamed, and the cafeteria was reduced to pandemonium, and Juleka ran with it, slipping out into the hallway and hoping the Akuma wasn’t following her. Heart pounding, the tall girl shoved herself into a random supply closet, listening for the approach of the villain. The screams of the students weren’t far off, echoing off the bricks in a way that sent goosebumps down Juleka’s arms. But no villain showed up. 

“Roaar, Stripes on!” The pale red light covered her body, and there stood Tigress, ready to fight. Hopefully. She leapt out of the supply closet and ran back to the cafeteria, quicker now that she was magically superpowered. The screaming had stopped, and when Tigress burst into the cafeteria, she was greeted with statues, her frozen classmates with their wide eyes and wide mouths, fear and terror etched forever into their faces. On their chests was a pause icon, the two straight lines glowing the same violet as Lady Wi-Fi’s eyes. 

“Oh…” Tigress stared at Rose, and Alix and Kim, and Mylene. They’ll be okay. I just need to stop the akuma. A plan slowly formed in her head. Nodding to herself, Tigress ran outside, jumping onto the school roof and starting her journey towards what she hoped was the Akuma’s target.

She hid in the shadows of the noonday sun, green eyes watching, looking for any sign that something was coming. Chloe had thrown a fit when she suggested taking away all devices with screens, but Ange Noir was firm and now they were all sitting outside on the roof patio with her, While Chloe was in her room. 

Marinette ran from Lady Wi-Fi with Chloe’s hand clasped in her own, transforming as soon as it was safe. Then she carried the blonde home, on edge, tense. 

Something was coming on the horizon. Ange stiffened, then relaxed slightly when she realized it was only Tigress. Still, she didn’t leave the shadows, needing every advantage at her disposal. Tigress landed on the roof, looking around. Her yellow eyes landed on Ange, and the two stared at each other. 

“You can see me?” Ange groaned in disbelief. “Normally, the dark hides me!”

Tigress hesitates, then gives a small shrug. “It’s more I… sensed you, rather than saw you. Predator instincts… I think.” 

Ange Noir hummed in thought. Why didn’t she have that sensing thing? Wouldn’t cats also count as a predator? Oh well. “Are you here to guard Chloe?”

“Yeah,” Tigress moves to settle near Ange, nestling in the shadows. She doesn’t hide as well as Ange does, but it’s still difficult to see her, nonetheless. “I heard that someone thought I was Chloe. And that this Akuma has something to do with it.”

Alya’s accusation happened during school, and no one other than the people in the locker room was privy to the wild theory. Ange shook her head a bit, getting rid of the thought. “Two is better than one.” She replied lamely.

The stars are calling for her. She’s standing on a beach, toes in the wet sand and waves rising to tickle her calves. A void revealing galaxies reflected in the water, calm and deep and comforting. 

She held out her hand, aurora light spilling forth, blue and green and suddenly red. Forcing the sun to rise, a cacophony of colors that dressed the pale sand in a rainbow. The dark landscape revealed, and creatures of unimaginable might stepped forwards, ethereal and unable to describe. “Godling…” they whispered, voice like a whisper, yet loud enough to reverberate off the mountains on the horizon. The same sky ones she visited oh so long ago. 

“Who are you?” She asks, starlight in her midnight hair, flames burning in her blue eyes. She was truly the child of Knowledge, the bringer of light. A true star of morning. 

The creatures smile, though they have no faces. Their eyes twinkle with mirth, though they have no faces. They love her, care for her, cheer for her, though they are not real. 

Ange Noir fell, and her head jerked up, eyes wide. Tigress was standing a little way away, perhaps surveying the city skyline. Ange’s heart was pounding, and she was sure that Tigress could hear it with her senses. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled, turning back towards Ange. “You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you.” 

A flash of annoyance zipped through, then fizzled out. While sleeping wouldn’t do anything to help save Chloe, Ange Noir could agree that she was very… tense. Almost frayed. It was the first time an Akuma had targeted Chloe. Granted, this was only the second one, but still. Ange was allowed to care for her tentative friend. 

“Nothing happened?” She guessed.

“Yeah. I’m thinking of staying on her balcony. Maybe Lady Wi-Fi will try to sneak by.” Tigress had something going on behind her eyes. What was it? Ange wasn’t sure. 

Tigress and Ange sat inside Chloe’s room, and Tigress was very… on edge. Chloe was Chloe. Tigress was Juleka. Ange was familiar with Chloe to some extent… but Tigress wasn’t expecting them to be quite this unprofessional.

“What do you mean you don’t like sushi?” Chloe cried in disbelief, holding the tray her butler dropped off earlier. 

Ange shook her head. “It’s all slimy! Just cause I’m a cat doesn’t mean I have to like fish!”

“But you’re Chinese! Sushi is your thing!” 

Ange’s eyes hardened. “Chloe.” Her voice was low. A reminder? A threat. Did either of them realize Tigress was standing right there? “Just because I’m Chinese doesn’t mean I have to like sushi. You’re French, do you like Snails?” 

The blonde’s nose scrunched in disgust, but she didn’t immediately reply. In the silence, Tigress looked Ange over. Her eyes slanted, thinner than other Parisians, but some people simply had narrow eyes. Her hair was dark, but her eyes were green. Granted, they were obviously changed by the Miraculous, akin to Tigress’s own yellow eyes. How had Chloe known Ange Noir was Chinese?

“Whatever, more for me.” Chloe sat down and started to eat, not offering any to Tigress. Which was fine. She wasn’t hungry anyway. But then why did Chloe offer to Ange and not her? Did she really forget Tigress was here? Tigress checked her reflection in the mirror to make sure she hadn’t accidentally set off her power, but no, she was still visible. Ange seemed to have forgotten too, huffing away and heading to the balcony. 

What should she do? Chloe didn’t seem sorry, and Tigress didn’t want to try to mess with that issue, but it wasn’t like she was close to Ange Noir, who was hunched over outside. She looked like a cat caught in the rain, despite the clear, sunny day. Tigress stepped outside with trepidation, slowly and careful to not draw the other hero’s ire. Ange was mumbling under her breath, and Tigress cleared her throat. 

“Do…do you want to talk about it?” Tigress cringed internally. 

Ange shook her head, braid waving. “It’s just–” She sighed, not looking back at Tigress. “She always does this. She won’t call me by my name and she keeps… saying things like that. It’s so frustrating. I said I’ll be her friend if she acts calm but why is she treating me like some… some other!” Ange growled, hands curled into fists, tense and shoulders raised. Tigress didn’t say anything, trying desperately to understand what Ange was going on about. Chloe knew her name? Chloe called her Ange Noir, just like anyone else. And why would Chloe have the chance to keep saying offensive comments if she never hung out with Ange Noir (to the best of Tigress’s knowledge)?

“Does Chloe know who you are?” Tigress guessed, praying she was wrong but feeling so sure she wasn’t. Ange froze and Tigress missed her muttered response. She already knew the answer to her own question. “When? How?” Ange Noir had been around for a few years now, but she didn’t hit city wide publicity until after Chloe’s rescue. So only within the last couple of months, truly. 

“I ran out of time when I was saving her.” Ange spared a passing glance at the girl inside. Tigress gave her a longer look, noticing the way her shoulders drooped and the untouched sushi on her plate. 

“Why don’t you tell her she’s hurting you?” Tigress suggests. “I’ll stay out here for now, if you want.” 

Ange Noir didn’t say anything for a moment. Tigress let her think, god knows she got lost in her own head often, especially with friends. There were a lot of fears and doubts that came with being close to someone. And if Chloe knew Ange’s identity? Tigress tried to imagine Rose knowing she was Juleka… damn, did that sound complicated. Without a word, Ange straightened and went back inside. Tigress kept a lookout as promised, but couldn’t help turning back to watch Ange confront Chloe. She had her arms crossed, and whatever she was saying made Chloe cower in shame. But suddenly, Ange got closer, kneeling by the sitting girl, hand on her shoulder. Chloe had a sort of thinking expression on her face, something thoughtful and so unlike Chloe’s usual expressions that it threw Tigress off guard. Ange Kept talking, and Chloe was nodding along. Tigress wanted to know what they were saying and didn’t at the same time. It was a few moments before Ange Noir removed her hand from Chloe’s shoulder and stood up, giving Tigress a nod and stepping away. 

Chloe stared at her, at Ange. Something sparkled in her eyes, bright blue trailing after Ange. Tigress opened the door, pausing. It was the same expression she’s seen girls make towards Adrien’s ads in magazines, or at a particularly attractive actor. It was the same expression her brother made when he found a cute boy of the week. It matched the glances Ivan and Mylene gave each other when the other wasn’t looking. 

“Oh, hell no,” Tigress groaned, but before Ange or Chloe could react, a bright pink glow spilled from Ange’s baton, and Lady Wi-Fi was here. About damn time.

Lady Wi-Fi brought her own arsenal of technology, throwing them around the room and teleporting before Ange Noir could grab the akumatized object. She was dodging pause icons left and right and trying so hard to grab the phone in the Akuma’s hands, and failing. 

“Who are you?” Lady Wi-Fi roars, throwing more icons at the Cat hero, who flips effortlessly and barely misses getting hit. Chloe no longer seemed to be her priority after seeing Tigress separate from the blonde. She turned her attention to Ange Noir, attacking her with a zealous rage that Ange felt was very… targeted. 

“I’m Noir.” Ange ducked under an icon. “Ange Noir.” She grinned, but Lady Wi-Fi didn’t seem to enjoy the joke. Instead, the villain called up a floating screen, a glitchy rectangle with a camera symbol. 

“Hello Paris!” Lady Wi-Fi bared her teeth in a mocking smile. “I have spent all day setting up signal towers that force my live-stream onto your digital devices! You may know me as the Beetleblogger, and today I have the biggest scoop to serve you guys: Ange Noir’s identity!”

“Like hell you are!” Tigress snarked. She turns to Ange, eyes wide. “Run, I’ll try to hold her off!” 

Ange Noir only takes a moment to hesitate before she nods and turns to flee, speeding in a way she could only do in her hero suit, ricocheting off the walls in angles calculated to give her a few more seconds. 

(When did she learn the math for this?)

Down the stairs, a free fall down the center slowed by her baton. She dashed to the kitchen, looking for maybe a pan or cooking tray, something reflective. Like Medusa.

Suddenly, a screen in the corner lights pink, and Lady Wi-Fi leaps out, slamming into Ange Noir and shoving her into a large freezer. She’s forcibly changed back into Marinette, her dress not built for the cold. 

“Bread, what is going on?” Plagg gasps at the cold, flying towards Marinette’s chest, searching for warmth. 

“The ring!” Marinette glances at her bare hand, the ring that’s been with her, grown with her, for years… missing. “Where is it?”

“Hold on!” Plagg says, and he flies around as fast as possible, not before he stops in front of a set of shelves holding vegetables. “Under here! I feel it!” Marinette immediately pressed herself against the floor, arm reaching out until something cold and metal brushed her fingertips. She hooked her middle finger on the familiar hoop, putting it on the wrong finger and immediately calling out her transformation phrase. 

“Ange Noir is back!” she cheers, then looks around, searching for a way out. Before she could try the doors to see if they were locked, they opened on their own, and the silhouettes of Tigress and Chloe filled the doorway. Ange stepped past them and started rubbing her arms, getting the chill out. “Thanks for getting me.”

“I forgot there would be screens down here.” Tigress apologizes, closing the freezer and eyeing the monitor in the corner. 

Ange looked at Chloe and Tigress. “Who’s fighting Lady Wi-Fi?” 

“Beetlebug.” Chloe rolls her eyes. Tigress notices, but doesn’t comment on the action. “They’ve headed for the roof.”

“About time he got here.” Ange Noir grumbled. She leapt out of the window, using her baton to raise her (And Tigress following close behind) to the rooftops. Beetlebug was in close combat with Lady Wi-Fi near the pool, and a purple growth was glowing on the Hotel’s service tower. 

“If we destroy that, it might throw her off.” Tigress suggests. 

“I was also thinking of reflecting the icons back.” Ange shrugged. “Maybe Beetle should use his lucky charm.” 

“On it.” Tigress jumped, landing behind the Akuma, who whirled around to look at her. “Now!” Tigress ordered.

“Lucky Charm!” Beetlebug called, and a golden glow formed above his outstretched hand, before forming into a… Jump rope? “What the?” Beetle frowns, looking around desperately.

“It’ll help us!” Ange dashed forward to block an attack aimed for him. “What do your instincts tell you?” 

Beetlebug was silent for a moment. He looked around, and in his eyes, something clicked. “Destroy her signal.” He ordered, defending another attack and moving to tell Tigress her part of the plan. 

Ange Noir wasted no time hopping up to the purple growth. It seemed like something out of a Sci-fi space movie, alien and… slimy. Ange Noir destroyed it with a touch of Cataclysm. 

“What?” Lady Wi-Fi spun around, gaping at the Cat hero. With her distracted, Beetlebug wraps the jump rope around her arms, and she turns to look at him. Tigress swiped the phone and hurled it at the concrete, cracking the screen. The Akuma squeezed out of the cracks, quickly caught by Beetle. 

“Wait,” Tigress holds out a hand. “Ange doesn’t have another Cataclysm. How are we gonna get rid of the corruption?”

Ange and Beetle frown. “The Ladybug and the Cat are equals.” Ange Noir shrugs. “He should have something to cure it.” 

Beetlebug mutters something that Ange can’t hear, and grabs the butterfly from the air, holding it close. Ange watches him stare at it for a moment, where nothing happened. Her ring beeped once. Four more minutes. 

“Purify,” With a bright gold, almost white glow, the purple power corrupting the butterfly fell away like sand. The white butterfly flutters its wings, a weight lifted from its shoulders. 

Beetlebug filled the butterfly with his power, and the now golden insect flew off, landing on Ange Noir’s shoulder and absorbing her fiery red power, now a phoenix in color and heading off, restoring everything to go back the way it was. Even if this was the second time Ange saw Fèng, it still managed to awe her. 

“What… happened?” Alya groaned, and on her forehead.

“You were akumatized.” Beetlebug knelt down to talk to her. “You okay?” 

Alya took a deep breath, looking around. She saw the three heroes, and her eyes sparkled. “Oh My God! I need to record!” She scrambled towards her phone, now fixed thanks to Fèng. She immediately opened her blog, turning on a livestream. “Hello Beetlebloggers! O-M-G, do I have news for you! You are looking at the second Akuma victim—”

“We really don’t have time for this.” Ange looked at her ring. Two minutes left. “I’m gonna leave now.”

“Watch the VOD when I upload it, M’kay?” Alya waves the hero off, going back on her tangent. Ange shrugs and uses her baton to leap away.

Lady Wi-Fi: What I Remember! (+ Bonus Interview!)

Yesterday, yours truly was akumatized, and let me just tell you, it’s an awful experience. But, being akumatized has led me to realize a ton of new info that I’m not even sure the Heroes know! Everything from how an Akuma works, to the name of our supervillain tormentor, I know these answers and I am spilling the details now!

First, what the heck was it like as Lady Wi-Fi? I was at school, talking to the principal, furious. Suddenly, a chilly feeling pressed into my head, sort of similar to a brain freeze! And a man started talking. He called me Lady Wi-Fi, and told me that with this power, I could get what I had wanted at the time (For personal reasons, I will keep this to myself) and all I had to do was reveal Ange Noir’s identity. Sure, writing this out now makes me realize how dumb the whole thing was, but the dude seemed like he had my best interests at heart. Irrational, is what Ange Noir called the Akuma’s. 

After that, it gets fuzzy. I must’ve agreed, since I transformed into Lady Wi-Fi right after. It’s almost like being underwater. All my senses were muffled, and I felt like that for about a minute, even though I was Akumatized for multiple hours. 

Now, you might be wondering: What’s the scoop? What’s the deal with these butterflies? Well, they seem to be related to Monarch Butterflies! These very famous butterflies are normally found in North America, but they’ve also been known to live in Indonesia, and this new breed of Akuma Butterfly seems to be from South Asia and the bottom half of China. 

“But Alya?” I hear you ask. “Monarchs are orange, these Akumas are white!” Ah, but guess what, readers? Monarch Butterflies have a slight chance of being white, a rare mutation. They still keep their black stripes, while the Akumas have silvery stripes. The Akuma butterflies are rare, close to extinction, and records of them from history are difficult to find, but they do exist. 

Now, maybe you’re wondering: What made you look into this? How did you make this connection if you can’t even remember anything? Well, dear readers, let me impart you with this last piece of info:

The Butterfly Man who plans on terrorizing us calls himself Monarch. I didn’t pay attention to his name as I was getting akumatized, but now that I’m no longer angry? I remember him introducing himself. The name Monarch is what made me look into Monarch Butterflies, and let me find this silver and white breed that seems to be able to transfer magic. Ange Noir and Beetlebug use the akumas to heal the city and reverse what damage had been done (A super awesome thing to see up close, let me tell you!) and Now I wonder what makes these butterflies so magical?

Well, that’s a question I’ll have to answer in the future! Dear Beetlebloggers and newcomers alike, please subscribe to my blog to stay up-to-date with all the Superhero news! And stay tuned for this Saturday, where I’ll be having a live interview with Beetlebug!

Alya, out

     Friday September 19, 2012

School was so… awkward? At least, it was odd to have Alya gone for the day, and it was extra odd to sit in the same room as Chloe, who knew Ange Noir’s identity. Juleka just had to sit in the back with Rose and pretend she didn’t have to fight her classmate yesterday. Alya wasted no time posting her article, and news websites and channels were eating it up, excited to name this evil. People had asked Ivan if Monarch had introduced himself, but Ivan shook his head. 

“I was the first. Maybe he didn’t pick out a name yet?” Ivan shrugged, uncomfortable with the attention. Juleka sympathized. 

School just ended, and for the first time in a while, Juleka didn’t go to stay in the art room. Instead, she slipped out of the building, hiding in alleys until she felt safe enough to transform. Juleka asked Roaar about this beforehand, explaining her plan, and the Kwami only grinned and approved wholeheartedly. Juleka was gonna buy some sugared pineapple for xem after this. 

Tigress headed for the Hotel, where Chloe would undoubtedly be. Only a minute later, she dropped down on her personal balcony, looking inside. Chloe and Marinette were sitting on the bed, talking. Tigress watched them for a second, something shivering down her spine. She raised a fist and knocked. 

Chloe jumped. spinning around to see Tigress standing there, face carefully blank. She stood up and opened the balcony doors, scowling. “What are you doing here?” She asks, not nice, but still way kinder than last year’s Chloe. 

“I wanted to make sure you’re alright.” Tigress responded softly. “And… I need to talk to you. Alone.” She glanced at Marinette, who watched on curiously. 

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Fine. One moment.” She told Marinette, then walked out and closed the balcony doors. “What?”

“You know Ange’s identity.” Tigress started, voice still so quiet, but laced with an edge. Chloe opened her mouth, but Tigress raised a hand, silencing her. “Ange told me you know. But I know something else. Something even she doesn’t know.” Tigress narrowed her eyes. “You have a crush on Ange Noir.” 

“No!” Chloe denied way too quickly. But Tigress could see the blush pinking her cheeks. 

“Don’t lie to me. I don’t care if you like girls or whatever. I care about your… feelings towards Ange Noir.” Tigress stepped closer, not wanting Marinette to know what was going on. “I may not know her identity, but Ange Noir is my friend. You are a horrible person. Just yesterday, you upset Ange with careless words. I don’t know what Ange told you, but I don’t exactly trust you to change for the better.”

“I’ve been better!” Chloe snapped back, tears in her eyes. “I stopped bullying and…” Chloe looked down at her feet. “I… am really sorry about… being racist. I didn’t even… realize?” Chloe tensed, trying to find the words. Tigress stayed silent, letting Chloe work out her thoughts. “I didn’t think I was being racist. I thought racist meant being… worse, violent. But Ange keeps making me realize I don’t know a lot.” 

Tigress felt the fierce rage in her chest melt a bit. “... You’re not just pretending to be good to gain Ange’s affection?” Tigress asked. It was a thought she had… though maybe now she doubted it a bit. 

“No. I… want her to be my friend first.” Chloe sighed. “Its… hard… to be good. I’m trying, I really really am.” 

Tigress hesitated, then pulled the blonde into a hug. “Thank you for being honest. I’m… sorry if I was rude. I just…” 

“You’re fine.” Chloe stepped back, sniffling a bit. “It’s been a tough couple of months.” 

Tigress didn’t respond. “Go back inside. Have Marinette help you.” She turned and left as quickly as she appeared, hopping from rooftop to rooftop until she was close enough to her home to drop down an alley and remove her transformation. 

“So? How’d it go?” Roaar already had a piece of dried fruit in xir hands, nibbling away. 

“I’m… not sure.” Juleka stayed in the alley for a moment, taking a breath away from eyes. “She apologized, and does seem to at least want to be better.” She looked up at her Kwami. “Can bad people change so drastically like that?”

Roaar chewed, silent in thought. When xe swallowed, xe merely hummed. “You humans are determined. You guys change every day. Who knows what will happen?” 

Juleka thought about the answer and started walking towards her boat. 

     Saturday September 22, 2012

Media and the public’s perception was never something Fu had to deal with in all his years on earth. But he was glad his chosen was smart enough to take advantage of the popularity of his classmate’s blog. An interview with Beetlebug, one that will set the record straight. Fu sat in his room, an old but working laptop resting in front of him, opened to the soon-to-be livestream. Just a few seconds more. 

“Master, can we watch?” Fu turned to see Wayzz, Trixx, and Pollen in the doorway, eyes wide. 

“Of course.” Fu smiled, and the Kwamis rested on the bed, eyes on the laptop, which was now showing Beetlebug and Hanuman sitting on a couch, across from Alya Cesaire. 

“Hello viewers! It’s me, Alya! and I have here with me the new heroes, Beetlebug and Hanuman!”

“Hi Paris!” Hanuman grinned widely, an infectious energy radiating from him, something that even Fu could feel. Beetlebug was calmer, focused. He had Fu’s notes in his lap. Fu spoke to him after the Akuma attack, and after the announcement of this interview. 

“So, guys, here is how this is gonna work. I have a few questions I want to ask, and when I’m done, we’ll let the viewers ask a few themselves, got it?” 

The Heroes nodded, and Alya leaned forwards.

“First question: How did you guys get your Miraculous?”

Beetlebug tilted his head towards Hanuman, letting him answer first. “Well, I was running away from Stoneheart when a box fell out of my bag! Inside was my Miraculous, and the rest is history.”

Beetlebug smiled. “Same with me, but it was in my room. We were chosen to wield them, and we’re very grateful for the opportunity to protect Paris from Monarch.”

“All right, him. What did you guys know about Monarch before this all started?”

“Nothing.” Beetlebug frowned. “We were told there was an item on Stoneheart we had to destroy, and a butterfly we had to purify. Other than that, your newest article was super informative.”

“Yeah, good job on that!” Hanuman patted Alya on the shoulder. Fu watched her flush with pride, already so comfortable in the presence of his chosen. Perhaps she could be used in the future? After all, Tigress was missing, and Adrien has said she was being… difficult, but he refused to elaborate on how.

“Aw, thanks, guys! Instead of seeing Lady Wi-Fi as an enemy, I decided to think of her as an opportunity to get the scoop on our villain. And speaking of Akumatizations, is there a way we can avoid it? Are there any tips or tricks you could share?”

The Heroes shared a glance. “Sadly, with Monarch preying on and manipulating vulnerable citizens, there won’t be a one-hundred percent way to stop Akumas.” Beetlebug smiled sadly. “The best we can do is develop coping skills to help us calm down, and to find friends or family who could help us when we are upset or angry. There are professionals out there who would be willing to help, and I am currently looking into various organizations who are legitimate, and have my approval for Akuma prevention classes and seminars.”

Ah, Beetle’s side project. Fu appreciated his pupils’ initiative, but he personally thought it was too much to be doing right now. Maybe later, when Adrien was done with his Guardian training. 

“But don’t be too upset if you still get Akumatized!” Hanuman reassures the audience he can’t see. “We are happy to save you, and everyone lets their emotions get the best of them sometimes!”

“True,” Alya nods, looking down at her notes. “So, I’m guessing your identities are gonna remain a secret?” 

“Yep.” Beetlebug blinks once, then smiles. “Sorry about that.” 

“No, I expected it. Do you guys know each other’s identities?” 

Both heroes shook their heads. “It’s safer for us to not know, at least for right now,” Beetle explained, sending a quick grin to Hanuman. 

Alya seemed to catch on the smile, her eyes narrowed a tiny bit, and the corners of her lips twitched. Fu heard of her idea that the Mayor’s daughter was Tigress, and wondered what wild theory she just latched onto.

“What are your thoughts on your teammates?” Alya asked, eyes searching.

“Well, we haven’t worked together too much,” Hanuman says. “But Beetle here is a good leader so far. I saw the Lady Wi-Fi battle recording afterwards. It was super legit. And Tigress is quiet, but she gets her stuff done.”

Beetlebug nods, taking his cue. “Hanuman and Tigress are new, like me. But yeah, you’re very energetic, which I feel like will make upcoming battles less draining. Tigress Is very determined, but I would say she was quiet; she yelled at me and Ange the day after Stoneheart’s attack.” 

“What?” Hanuman straightened. “Why?” 

Beetlebug shrugged. Fu scowled. Adrien told him about the discovery of Fèng, and how Tigress wanted him to work peacefully with Ange Noir. If he wasn’t afraid of too many people knowing of his existence, Fu would march down to Juleka and tell her what’s truly going on. He shook his head, tuning back into the livestream, having missed Beetlebug’s recount of Tigress yelling at him. 

“And what about Ange?” Alya asked. “She’s the one with the most experience being a hero. Has that helped your team fight or work together at all?”

The two heroes didn’t immediately respond. Hanuman nudged Beetlebug, who glared at him. 

“Ange Noir is not our teammate.” Beetlebug turned back towards Alya, whose expression was too complicated for Fu to decipher through the screen. “In fact, she isn’t even a hero.”

“What?” Alya’s voice was harsh, confused. The live chat scrolling past was outraged as well. “She’s saved me, and Ivan. Heck, she even saved Chloe, and a bunch of other people, all before you guys showed up. What do you mean, she isn’t a hero?”

“I mean, sure, Ange Noir seems nice,” Hanuman explained. “But that’s just the girl under the mask. Her Miraculous is evil.”

“Our Miraculous all stand for something.” Beetlebug leaned forwards. “Mine stands for Creation, Hanuman’s and Tigress’s stand for their respective animals and the qualities attached to them. But Ange? She is Destruction and Fire. The girl under the mask might not be aware of the dark power that’s using her, but until she gives up her Miraculous and entrusted it to us, we cannot trust her in good conscience. Doing so may bring about the annihilation of everything.”

Alya didn’t say anything, thinking. Fu watched the live chat. Even though a few seemed to side with Beetlebug, most seemed to not believe him, being angry on Ange’s behalf. Fu slowly shook his head in disappointment, but oh well. Sooner or later, they’ll see the risks of letting Ange run around, doing whatever she wants. 

Sooner, before disaster, or later, once the damage becomes irreversible.

Chapter Text

Saturday September 22, 2012

Alim Kubdel stood in the open doorway of his soon to be opened exhibit. Just a week or so of final preparations, and everything will be good for the grand opening. The tapestries were exquisite, and photos and paintings of past Miraculous heroes hung on the wall, each with a blurb of text talking about their names, powers, and identities. This was going to be Alim’s most prized work. 

“Dad!” 

Or his second most prized. Alix ran through a maintenance door, phone in hand and eyes wide. “Look what they’re saying ‘bout Ange!” She tossed her phone, and Alim caught it, looking at what must be a livestream, with Beetlebug and Hanuman. 

“Isn’t that girl in your class?” Alim looked up at his daughter.

“Listen to what they’re saying!” Alix urges, and Alim tunes in to whatever Alix’s classmate is talking about. 

“What do you mean, she isn’t a hero?”

Hanuman and Beetlebug start explaining how evil the cat hero was, but Alim had stopped listening, pulling out his own phone. He called Marinette, anger and something fierce tugging at his old heart. 

“Mr. Kubdel!” Marinette’s voice came through, her voice already cracked and hoarse. Shit. 

“I need you to turn off the stream.” Alim stopped away from Alix, who watched on in silence. 

“But I need to know—”

“No, you need to close it. You can deal with them later.”

“Dad?” Alix scowled, probably out of curiosity. “What’s going on? Who is that?” 

“Is that Alix?” Marinette hiccuped. Curse her parents, curse Beetlebug, curse this all!

“Yes it is, but I can ask her to leave if you want?” Alim eyed his daughter. 

“N-no! It’s fine, I just– just didn’t think they’d be so… blunt.”

“... Are you alone?” Plagg should be there, right? Plagg and Duusu. 

“No. I have my kwami’s.” The girl sniffled. 

“Do you want to come over? Alix has been dying to play Monopoly again.” The cheater, his daughter, was vicious, her ruthlessness matched only by Marinette. Alim knew they both had to be cheating their rolls, or their money, but he couldn’t figure out how.

“I don’t… maybe.” Marinette sounded so unsure. 

“We’ll come pick you up. See you soon.” Alim ended the call and sighed. “Marinette’s coming over.” He explained to Alix, who scrunched her nose. 

“Why?” 

“I’ll tell you later. Let’s go.” 

Something was up with Marinette. Alix somehow won a match of Monopoly in only three hours, a record for sure. The girl’s heart just didn’t seem to be in it. But all Alix could think about was that interview. Her old man took one look at the livestream, and immediately called Marinette, who was upset and absolutely miserable. 

Yeah, hearing that Ange Noir was supposedly evil was… upsetting. But why was Marinette so affected by it?

Alix didn’t have an answer. She, herself, was shaken a bit, having seen the recordings of the two akumas, and the efficiency that Ange portrayed really made Alix trust the hero. Or, “Hero”. Losing that hero, and in fact becoming threatened by it, shook Alix.

But Marinette was a lot more delicate than Alix was. Alix wasn’t proud to admit it, but she did stand back and watch as the girl was bullied relentlessly in previous years, ganged by Kim and Ivan and Chloe. Alix had laughed along with them, a survival tactic, she’d like to think. She didn’t like thinking about her past actions. But still, Marinette was just… weaker than Alix. She’s been beaten, if not physically, then emotionally, or mentally. Maybe losing a hero meant losing some sort of safety that Marinette wasn’t lucky to have all the time. Ange Noir brought about a change in Chloe, and Chloe had stopped the bullying. 

Maybe she lost more of a hero than Alix did. 

Thursday October 18, 2012

Ms. Bustier’s class was a lot more chaotic than Adrien thought it would be. There were tons of strong, clashing personalities, and not everyone got along. Chloe was still upset at Alya, and often just ignored her. Which, honestly, was a huge sign of improvement. 

Kim and Max were an unlikely duo, planning and talking, sometimes dragging Ivan and Alix into their shenanigans. Pranks, races, video game strategy and the outcome of the latest football game were their chosen topics to discuss. 

Chloe had her own dynamic, talking only to Sabrina, Nathaniel, and Marinette from the other class. She had her own aura, and despite her changed behavior, she still was at conflict with most other kids. 

Then the kids who stuck to themselves, Mylene and Juleka, and their respective friends, Rose and Ivan, sometimes. They were all creative, quietly talking amongst each other about who knows what, no one could hear them. 

Adrien looked at Nino. He didn’t really belong to any one group. He could converse with the Art kids, and talk about sports and pranks with Kim and his crew. He could even get past Chloe’s abrasive attitude, if only because Adrien vouched for him. 

Nino has taken his promise to be Adriens friend to heart. He was constantly talking about his music, or his recent score in some rhythm game on his phone, or random news about various streamers online. Adrien didn’t fully understand everything the boy was going on about, but it was nice to be talked to by someone who wasn’t a Ladybug-themed god. 

“Yeah, so I found out that there actually was a way down to the waterfall, and the chest I saw wasn’t a hoax or a glitch, but you had to, like, shimmy through a bunch of bushes. I got a cool weapon though, so the effort was definitely worth it.” Nino rambled on. 

“What type of weapon?” Adrien could not for the life of him remember which game they were talking about. 

“Like, a sick-ass sword. It looks all plant-y and stuff, so my Sylvari looks super epic!” Nino pulled out his phone, probably looking for pictures. Adrien tried to rack his brain to remember what a Sylvari was.

“Adrikins!” Chloe called out, pulling Adrien away from his frantic thoughts. “I am so sorry! Your gift is going to come late!” Her eyes were wide, and her face was flushed red. 

“What?” Adrien glanced around, hoping for some context clues to understand what she was talking about. God, he was off-kilter. 

“For your birthday!” Chloe cried, arms thrown out. “It’s been delayed and it won’t come until Monday!” Sabrina put an arm on Chloe’s shoulder, looking around sheepishly. He looked at his phone, double-checking the date. And sure enough, the nineteenth was tomorrow. Adrien had forgotten his birthday, like he usually did. 

“It’s okay Chloe,” Adrien awkwardly attempted to reassure his friend. “I wasn’t going to celebrate it, anyway.” 

Everyone stared at him, giving the boy incredulous looks. 

“What?” Nino sat up, eyes narrowed. “Whaddya mean, you won’t celebrate?”

Adrien could only shrug. “My dad isn’t a big birthday guy.” He explained, wishing everyone would just look away. “I’ve never had a celebration, or anything like that.” 

The explanation made the class even more incredulous, and Nino started grinding his teeth—A horrible habit, but Adrien forced himself to not make a comment. 

“All right class!” Ms. Bustier walked in, ready to start, all smiles and optimistic attitude. “So, before I start my lesson, The sign-up sheets for the position of Class Representative are going away soon, you have today and tomorrow, and then next week Mr. Damocles and the ninth-year student body will review your application and interview you. And Finally, next week we will have a day to vote, to see who is the popular choice. Everyone understand?”

The class simply murmured in acknowledgement, still too shocked by Adrien’s confession. Ms. Bustier didn’t seem to notice, and continued with her lesson.

Marinette scrolled the Beetleblog for the millionth time that morning, scared for whatever new update might come next. Five days after the disastrous interview, and Marinette had religiously scrolled social media sites and news outlets on her computer, afraid. So far, nothing too bad was going on, since the Heroes were so new. But the fans that she had? Some had turned their backs, a few had been confused, and fewer still were the ones who defended her. Team Ange, versus Team Beetle.

Marinette didn’t want to fight! She really was good! But no one seemed to hear her out, and Alya was difficult to find when Marinette was transformed. And what if the girl didn’t even hear her out? Was one interview enough to shatter the small reputation Ange could garner?

“Are you okay?” Nathaniel poked at his salad, frowning. Marinette blinked, shaking her head. 

“Ah! Sorry! Did you say something?” Marinette hasn’t even pulled out her lunch. Did she even pack one?

“No,” Nathaniel looked around. “But you’ve been quiet the past few days.” He pulled out a sandwich, holding it out for Marinette, who took the offered meal sheepishly. “What’s up?”

Marinette didn’t respond. What could she even say? It was bad enough that Chloe and Alim knew, she couldn’t possibly have three people know. She took a bite from her sandwich, stealing a few seconds to come up with a lie. 

“Nothing. Just tired.” Was all she could come up with. Nathaniel glared, probably knowing she was lying. But he didn’t say anything. Thank goodness.

Alix stared at her from somewhere in the corner. Marinette could feel it.

The long table was longer because of its vacancy, empty and devoid of life. Sunlight streamed through the east-facing window, warming Adrien’s back and casting shadows in the corners of the dining room. Adrien took a small bite of cold keto toast, the kind with seeds and other healthy things that didn’t feel like bread. Adrien didn’t hate it as much as he hated other options on his diet, which seemed to be ever changing and never following a rule. The bread followed the Keto diet, but he had a regular bagel for breakfast yesterday, so what did his father and Nathalie even want for him?

Voices could be heard in the distance. Oftentimes it was simply Adrien’s father daring to show his face to Nathalie, telling her about something or other. But not this time. There was the timbre of his father, and a higher pitch but undeniable male voice that belonged to… 

Nino? What is he doing here? Adrien jumped to his feet, ignoring the twinge of pain in his knee. Adrien grabbed his bag, leaving his half empty plate and heading to the foyer. 

Sure enough, Nino stood inside, off-center and colorful compared to the monotonous, colorless design of his home. The bright red hat he always wore bounced light into the room, a pale pink covering the walls. Gabriel Agreste stood atop the stairs, flowing down upon the boy, his black suit contrasting the white walls. A reflection of his frowning portrait hung front and center across the front doors. The first portrait was done after mother disappeared. 

“If you wish to stay friends with my son, you’d do best to leave now, and maybe I will forget the disrespect you have shown today. You are a horrible influence on my son, Nino Lahiffe.”

“But D–Sir! It doesn’t even need to be a big thing. His friends come over and celebrate his b-day in his room? We won’t be disruptive! Honest!” Nino was red in the face, hands waving around violently, movement that drew the eye and distracted onlookers from the motionless statue on the stairs. Gabriel only blinked, his frown deepening. 

“Adrien.” Gabriel’s voice reverberated off of the empty walls, sounding like a godly figure in those old movies Adrien used to see with his mother. “This boy has broken in and refuses to listen to authority. He claims he does it for you. What type of people do you associate with at that school? No one worthy of knowing the face of my brand, my only son, that’s for sure.” Adrien shifted his feet, his knee burning. 

“He’s not the face of your brand!” Nino took a step forward. “He’s your fu–freaking kid! And Your assistant let me in, I wouldn’t break in anywhere!” 

“Nathalie!” Gabriel called, voice raised. Nathalie stepped out of the office wing, eyes cast to the floor. “Did you let this insolent child pass the gates?”

Nathalie glanced at Nino. “Yes, sir.” She whispered, loud enough for her voice to carry up the stairs and across the room where Adrien stood, wincing now at the burning spikes traveling through his joint and shin. 

“Is that so?” Gabriel sneered. “We will have a talk later. For now, get him off of my property.” 

“Yes, sir.” And with that, Nino was gone. Gabriel’s gaze pierced Adrien’s head, but the boy didn’t dare look his father in the eye.

“I didn’t know he would do that.” Adrien tries to explain. “I told them we weren’t going to celebrate this year.”

“Quiet.” Gabriel commanded. “I have scheduled a Photoshoot tomorrow for the debut of the upcoming winter lines. The school has already been notified, and I will have Nathalie pick up any homework assigned to you. You should be able to do it on Saturday.” And with that, the man turned around and headed up the stairs, going who knows where.

Adrien wanted to scream. What does that old man think he’s doing? Making him miss school and work on his birthday? What a total piece of shit. Adrien grumbled quite a few swears, making Tikki gasp. 

Crap. “I won’t get akumatized.” Adrien promised, hobbling back to the dining room table. The burn was icy cold now, and Adrien’s hips were starting to ache from his awkward standing.

“I’m not worried about that!” Tikki zipped up to examine his face. “What your dad is doing is awful! Reprehensible!” The tiny god vibrated, so angry. Adrien let her rant as he massaged his burning freezing muscles.

His knee pain was something that showed up one day and never went away. There were days where Adrien wasn’t in any pain, even if his leg still felt different from other, non-hurt one. But other days, there was a sharp pain that no medicine seemed to fix. Luckily, his knee seemed to be healed when he was Beetlebug, so it only affected his civilian life.

“Why is he like this?” Adrien leaned back, pushing away his half-empty plate. 

“I don’t know.” Tikki’s body stilled. “Let’s… get back to school.” Both looked at the time on Adrien’s phone. They had fifteen minutes to get back to Dupont. 

Adrien nodded, pulling himself to his feet and heading back to the foyer, out the front door, where his driver should be waiting for him.

Should’ve been.

“Surprise!” Instead, he was met with a haphazard group of kids in the courtyard, most from his class, some from the other classes. Party decorations were hung and placed crooked and… quickly, it seemed. 

“... What?” Adrien looked around, trying to find Nathalie or his driver. Above in the sky were countless green circles… bubbles?

“Time to partay!” A hand rested on his shoulder, and Adrien was greeted with the most eyesore of a clown imaginable. But Adrien could recognize that voice. 

“Nino?” 

“Nope!” The Akuma stepped back, proudly smirking and bouncing on his toes, ready to leap around. “I’m The Bubbler! I got rid of the adults and now we can celebrate your birthday my dude!” He pulled Adrien through the crowd, and with a second glance the blonde could see the fear in his classmate’s eyes. 

“I don’t—” The Bubbler let go of his hand, leaping to a dj setup, pressing buttons and messing with dials. Adrien couldn’t find an escape, and his classmates only looked sorry for him. 

The lunch lady and a janitor were sucked up into these large green bubbles, and Ange Noir wasted no time making her appearance. Obviously an Akuma was around, and now Ange Noir needed to stop it. 

She snuck around the school, trying to find signs of the Akuma. All the teachers were missing, probably also in bubbles, which had taken to the sky. Paris was covered in bubbles, holding every adult, like a mockery of stars. 

“Come now! Or you’ll join the Adults in the sky!” a voice threatened. Ange crept forwards, looking down at the courtyard and seeing a colorful Akuma take a bunch of students in smaller, clear bubbles. 

Ange jumped, angling her landing to be behind the Akuma, ready to grapple, and take the Bubble wand away. But something must’ve given herself away, because the Akuma captured her in a green bubble. 

She didn’t use Cataclysm immediately. If she did, and the akuma managed to trap her in another bubble, then she’d detransform and be vulnerable. Better to wait until after the Akuma leaves, and then track him after she lets Plagg rest. 

It was only a few minutes, and a cheese danish later, Ange Noir called Pursuit  and followed the pale blue soap scent all through Paris, until it led her to a mansion. Music thumped from behind stone walls, and Ange could hear the murmurs of a dozen or more children. 

“What are you doing here?” Hanuman appeared beside her. He was scowling, eyes darting around. Probably looking for his teammates.

“I’m on your side. Can’t we have an Akuma truce?” Ange sighed. 

“I don’t need you destroying anything.” Hanuman dismissed her, pulling out his wooden staff, seemingly ready to just jump in and fight head on.

“Hold on! He’ll trap you in a bubble, and I don’t want to waste a cataclysm on saving you. We need to think this through.” Ange tapped her lips with her fingers, trying to make up a plan. 

“I’m here!” Tigress joined them, yellow eyes wide. “I was able to see what the Bubbler was up to.”

“What?” Hanuman frowned.

“The Bubbler is Nino Lahiffe,” Tigress explained. “He wants to throw a birthday party for his friend Adrien Agreste, and right now he has students forced to celebrate. Adrien has tried to sneak away, but Bubbler keeps catching him. I used the distraction to slip away myself.” Tigress looked up at the green bubbles. “He’s threatening them to obey, or they’ll join the Adults up there.”

Hanuman and Ange were silent, thinking it over. 

“We need to separate Bubbler from the students.” Hanuman said. 

“Maybe stealing Adrien? We can hide him and the Bubbler will give chase?” Ange offered. “Tigress is fast, and she can turn invisible.”

“I can’t turn Adrien invisible, though.” Tigress sighed. 

“Are you sure? Most Miraculous have multiple powers.” Ange Noir smiled. “I’m able to track things and use Cataclysm.” 

“Really? Beetlebug said we only have one power.” Hanuman looks down at his staff. “I have Uproar, it messes with powers.”

“That’s useful.” Tigress nods. “He wouldn’t be able to trap us then.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan.” Ange grinned.

Adrien hated this. God, this was so awful. At least Chloe was there, trying her best to keep the Bubbler’s attention on her, letting Adrien and the other kids breathe easier. She knew Ange Noir was coming… which wasn’t hopeful. Adrien preferred Hanuman, or even Tigress. 

“Sorry!” Tigress called for attention, standing on the wall with her hands on her hips. “Gotta take this!” She zipped forwards, wrapping her arms around Adrien’s waist and jumping up over the mansion roof. 

The Bubbler roared in anger. “Sorry!” Tigress said to Adrien. “But you’re his target.” 

“It’s fine!” It was so weird to not be her leader, Tigress had no clue that she was dragging Beetlebug around. The idea made Adrien giggle. 

“UPROAR!” A brown blur swung past, his glowing staff slamming into the Bubbler’s bubble wand, which he had held up to block the attack. 

“Fuck yeah!” Tigress cheered, hiding in an ally and gently putting Adrien down. “All right, I need you to stay here. Don’t worry, us heroes have a plan.”

“I trust you.” Adrien smiled, giving the shy hero some confidence. She nods, then runs away. The moment she was out of sight, Adrien called on Tikki, becoming Beetlebug. 

Ange Noir and Hanuman’s fighting styles were quite similar. They both had staffs, though Ange’s could change sizes, and they both used traditional martial arts, though Ange wasn’t familiar with the particular style Hanuman utilized. Although Bubbler easily defended against both attacks, and he couldn’t trap them with bubbles anymore, Uproar didn’t prevent the Akuma from using his wand as a melee weapon.

A yo-yo smacked Bubbler in the back of the head, letting Ange grab the Bubble wand and snap it. The black butterfly squeezed out of the cracks. “Cataclysm!” Ange Noir removed the corruption, immediately filling the butterfly with Destruction. Beetlebug stepped from the shadows, face stoic.

“Why are you here?” He demanded, giving Creation to the butterfly, making Fèng. “We don’t want you here.”

“I just helped you!” Ange retorted, watching the Fèng bring the Adults back to the ground, fixing all the damage. “What makes you think I’m going to end up evil? I’ve been nothing but helpful the whole time!”

“Do you know your ring’s history?” Beetlebug readies to fight. Hanuman follows his lead, but Tigress just stands there, lost. 

“Yeah, I didn’t do any of that, did I?” Ange takes a step back. “I am a good person. I will be a good hero. I swear on my life.” And with that, Ange ran off, hiding in as many twists and turns as she could, until her transformation wore off.

“I am so tired!” Plagg complained. “Kid, do you know how much work both Cataclysm and Rebirth are? I want so much cheese!” 

Marinette rolled her eyes. “C’mon, let’s go to Chloe’s.”

Chloe and Marinette rested on the plush carpet, Duusu and Plagg eating cheese and almonds. The Akuma today was very… odd. 

“You guys were recorded.” Chloe sighs, voice quiet. 

“What?” Marinette felt like she was whispering. The room was so quiet, and neither girl wanted to disturb it. 

“Cesaire, after Tigress grabbed Adrien. She followed you guys. I’m betting she recorded the fight.”

“It wasn’t even that much of a fight.” Marinette stretched her legs. “Hanuman stopped his bubbles, and Beetlebug distracted him. It was only a minute long or so.”

“I don’t know then.” Chloe’s eyes were closed. Marinette smiled. The afternoon sun streamed in, and for some reason the view was… pretty. 

She stands in a moor, a rising structure in the distance, bright and pulsing, rivers from all directions feeding into the wet sun, beating.

A horrific sight, but there was a beauty she couldn’t deny. The red glow spilling onto the grass on the girl’s face. Thumping heart, held together by veins, veins latched to rivers and clouds. Blood dripped down into the river, shattered and broken heart. 

“Fix… Me…” their voice echoed, shaking her bones. The grass turned into water, the girl knee deep in dark red blood, thick and staining her skin. 

“How?” she asked the Heart in the sky. “What do I do?”

“Find me! Find me, godling!” The clouds had faces and long claws and they all reached out and pulled at her atoms until she opened her eyes and gasped in the thick blood that was rising. The beating reverberated, and the drowning woke her up.

Chapter Text

Monday, October 22, 2012

A Brief History of the Miraculous

Hello readers! It’s me, Alya, and boy, do I have an update for you!

Now, last Friday I uploaded a video showing the last bit of the fight against The Bubbler, and the aftermath. We viewers could see the clashing personalities of Beetlebug and Ange Noir, and we were left with some questions. 

I am here to answer these questions! Now, newcomers might be confused. What questions are you talking about? Well, if you’ve seen the latest video I posted, you would see that apparently, the Cat Hero Ange Noir has some sort of history. I was curious when Beetlebug asked her about it, but when I went to go look it up, the earliest record I could find of Ange Noir was two years ago, where someone reported a person wearing all black guiding a patrolling police officer to an attempted mugging. 

But If that was Ange Noir’s earliest debut, then what history was Beetlebug asking her about? Well, my dear readers, it’s about her Miraculous!

Now, what exactly is a Miraculous? A few weeks ago, Ange Noir only described a Miraculous as ‘what gives me and my fellow heroes our powers’. But listen back to Beetlebug in the video, and you can hear him ask about a ring. And sure enough, if you look closely, you can see Ange Noir does wear a ring, one that glows whenever she uses her Cataclysm, and seems to tell her when she’s about to lose her transformation.

And let me tell you, The Ring had a lot more history than I thought it would. 

It was difficult to find the next earliest appearance of the ring, over one hundred years ago! I believe the ring was in possession of a rich criminal named Dugal Rothschild, who was sorta like a mob boss from those famous American movies! I could find records of Dugal buying the ring for around 100,000 francs, which is over a million in euros today! The ring was in the possession of the police, and was illegally bought by Dugal. 

The ring was then stolen, and hadn’t been seen until Ange Noir. Now, where did the Police get the ring? Well, around the 1850s, there was a man who would destroy banks and government buildings, stealing money and documents, and selling the documents to crime lords. The police and the public thought the thief used explosives, but looking back on it, it looks like he must’ve used Cataclysm as well. The thief has no name that I can find, and I have no clue where he got the ring. 

But I think it’s easy to see what type of history Ange Noir’s ring has: Thieves and Murderers. Now, I don’t think this is cause for us to fear Ange Noir like Beetlebug and Hanuman say it is. After the Bubbler, Beetlebug is immediately antagonistic to Ange Noir, and she swears she will never do what the past users of her ring have done. And honestly, I trust her. She’s been thorough and helpful with the Akuma’s so far, willing to help Beetlebug and his teammates despite their hostile attitudes.

But your opinions are your own, dear readers! No matter what I or anyone else might say, you are free to think your own thoughts and have your own feelings.

And with that, I’m out!

-Alya

Marinette could cry in relief. Alya was on her side! The mindless anger and betrayal that flooded the news websites and social media sites were now milder, mixed in with supportive and kind posts. The people who chose a neutral side to the argument grew to a sizable amount, and now it seemed the internet was split three ways, instead of it being so unanimously one-sided.

“Should she have that much power?” Duusu asked in between bites of almonds. “I mean, Alya is thirteen, why do her words have such an impact on all of Paris?”

“And outside of Paris!” Plagg agreed. “The internet isn’t separated like the land is.”

“I don’t know.” Marinette sighed, feeling her shoulders loosen in a way that they haven’t been for the past few weeks. “Maybe it’s the video. Beetlebug did seem super angry. Anger scares people.” It was why she tried her best to be calm, rational, even with Beetlebug and Hanuman glaring at her.

“Maybe you could make your own blog!” Duusu grinned. “Tell them the truth, and then they’ll stop hating you.”

“I can’t just make a blog, that’s a lot of work and time that I don’t have.” Marinette pulled out a sketchbook and started searching for a pencil. “I was thinking we could get another interview with Alya. We could talk about me and my goals, and I could clear my name.”

“Would that work?” Duusu tilted their head, finishing off the last of the almonds. “It seems like a lot of work anyway.” 

“Yeah! We need to be fighting that Monarch creep!” Plagg’s tendrils reached out, energetic and leaving the air scrambled, tasting of iron.

“I would love to!” Marinette slumped over in her chair, pencil in hand. “But Beetlebug makes it so difficult!” 

The Kwami’s agreed, moving to silence as their owner began to draw. A dress, inspired by pure white akuma, it seemed. The lines sketched out lead to a relaxing of Marinette’s shoulders, letting her take her mind off of… everything. Plagg nudged Duusu and led them to his dollhouse, green eyes bright with worry. Marinette paid them no mind; She didn’t need to be privy to every conversation the two gods had.

Thursday, October 24, 2012

It was Wednesday when everything came crashing down. Marinette sat at her desk, content with watching her classmates interact. So nice compared to the complicated war game that contained her last few years of school. 

Ms. Mendeleiev sat at her desk, reviewing papers that were for the new class representative and their vice representative. The voting was yesterday, and Marinette felt good about her pick, and patiently waited for her teacher to announce the winners. 

“Are you guys excited about tomorrow?” A few girls sitting behind Marinette whispered amongst themselves. “I managed to get my mom to come in!”

“Oh, yeah, my dad makes candy. I’m hoping he brings in treats!”

“Wait,” Marinette spun around, gaze focused on the two girls; Vivienne and Mireille. “What’s happening?” 

Mireille raised a dark eyebrow. “Career day is tomorrow? All the Parents are coming in to talk about jobs?”

Marinette stared, stomach turning. Oh no. She turned back to face Ms. Mendeleiev, who stood up and cleared her throat.

She announced the representatives, Vivienne and Jean, as her Vice. Then she continued on announcements, talking about career days and upcoming fashion contests and movies. Events that Marinette couldn’t focus on, stomach churning and rising, blood leaving her face, rushing towards her heart. Beating loudly, louder than her teacher, and louder than her classmates leaving for the next class.

She couldn’t move. She… couldn’t. 

“Dupain-Cheng?” Ms. Mendeleiev sat back at her desk, organizing papers. “It’s time for music class.”

Her eyes burned. Her throat was empty, so empty and deep and a cavern with no echo, no voice. I can’t move. She cried. She cried, tears trailing down her cheeks. 

“Marinette?” Mendeleiev kneeled beside her desk, eyes soft in a way she normally wasn’t. She was a rock in the sea. “What’s wrong?” 

Marinette shook her head, unable to answer. 

“Come on, let me take you to the nurse.” Mendeleiev led her out of the classroom, down the halls and stairs. Marinette couldn’t hear. Couldn’t see. Something soft and unbearable pressed against her ears and eyes and mouth and nose. Her wrist hurt. Slowly, Marinette wrenched her head to look, and green eyes stared back, mouth wrapped around her flesh. Does he have teeth? 

“I’m going to call your parents.” Marinette realized she was sitting in a chair in the nurse’s office, the nurse filling a Ziploc bag with ice. Mendeleiev glanced at a piece of paper, holding out her phone and copying the phone number she must be reading. 

“Don’t,” Marinette rasped, flinching at the ice in her hand. The Nurse held her other hand, warm and distracting. “They won’t pick up.”

The adults didn’t respond, and Marinette could hear Mendeleiev’s phone ringing, held against the teacher’s ear. 

“Hello, this is Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. You’re talking to Sabine. How may I help you?”

“Hello, I am Olga Mendeleiev, your daughter’s homeroom teacher.”

“Oh, what happened?”

“Marinette is sick and needs to be taken home early.”

“...I’m afraid we can’t pick her up right now. Tom and I are getting ready to cater for an important party in London.”

“What?” Mendeleiev turned to watch Marinette, who wanted to transform and destroy the phone. Destroy Mendeleiev’s memory of this conversation. She ignored whatever her mother was saying, shoving a hand into her purse and gently petting her kwami’s. 

“My dear,” The Nurse sighed, heartbreak in her eyes. Marinette almost screamed, fiery rage burning her lungs. “Is there someone else we can call?” She now had both her hands available, and turned to Mendeleiev, who ended the call with a huff.

“Marinette, you know this is considered downright neglectful?” Mendeleiev frowned. “I can call ASE for this.”

“No! No, everything is fine. They’re just busy today!” Marinette dropped the ice and pulled her hand out of her purse, waving them erratically. “Just call Mr. Kubdel. Alim Kubdel. He watches me when Mom and Dad are busy.” The lie slipped out. Heavens hope he will follow along. Alim has never met his parents, and had no real clue about how… lonely, the young girl was. 

“Do you have his number?” Mendeleiev asked. “He isn’t on your file.” 

Marinette nodded, pulling out her phone and dialing. 

Getting a call from Marinette during school hours was strange. Alim was preparing for Career day tomorrow, trying to think of something both informative and fun that the students might like. Of course, he could talk about his upcoming Miraculous exhibit. It is due to open in two weeks. But advertising for the Louvre seemed… cheap.

Then Marinette called, and when he answered his phone, her voice was quiet and hoarse. 

“Marinette? What’s wrong?” Alim started looking for his keys.

“Um… can you come pick me up?- I’m not feeling well.”

“Uh, I can? What’s wrong?” Alim found his keys and rushed to his car. 

“I’m not… feeling good.” She repeated. 

“I’m on my way, hold on.” He started driving, putting the phone on speaker and buckling his seat belt. 

Nathaniel zoned out, giving a half-hearted congratulations to Mylene and Chloe, the new representative and vice. Ms. Bustier continued to talk about career day and an up-and-coming fashion competition. 

Again, Ange Noir plagued his thoughts. She wasn’t evil, but instead hailed from a dark past. It was a very cool superhero backstory, to be fair, but the interview and the articles made Nathaniel… uneasy. 

The focus on whether Ange Noir was a superhero or villain seemed stupid to him. There was a whole guy turning people into monsters and supervillains, but somehow the Hero who saved them three times plus countless others from years prior was the concern. 

He eyed Alya, who kept checking her phone every few minutes, probably keeping tabs on the state of her blog. Speaking of…

Homeroom finished, and students started leaving and heading for art class. Nathaniel stood up and rushed to Alya. “Hey! Can we talk?” 

Alya grins, and Nathaniel shivers. “About what?” 

“Your blog.” Nathaniel started guiding the two to the Art room.

“What about it?” 

“Why are you focusing so much on Ange Noir? Why not focus on the real bad guy? And, uh, what about those anger management tips and stuff Beetlebug brought up during that interview? Why don’t you like, post some, or find resources you can make links for while you wait for him to look into a bunch of professional agencies?” Nathaniel paused, at the art room door, far too aware of the look Alya was staring him down with. He let his frustrations out, sure, but Alya was headstrong, if her Chloe-Tigress theory was anything to go by. She probably wouldn’t want some rando who didn’t even seem all that interested in superheroes to tell her how to do her job.

This wasn’t even her job! This was simply a hobby she had that blew way out of proportion, leading to her becoming the primary source of superhero news in only a few short weeks, which would be scary for any teenager to deal with… at least in Nathaniel’s case. 

“Wanna help me with that?” Alya smirked, head held high. Posture far too confident, given the boy she was talking to.

“W-what?” Nathaniel blinked, gripping his backpack. 

“Yeah! Help me! I can do all the fun research and battle chasing, and you can do whatever you just said!” Alya’s eyes sparkled, even as she was literally just insulting everything Nathaniel said. “Ya’know, the boring shit!”

“Boring shit?” Nathaniel gaped, the unfamiliar swear felt weird coming out of his mouth. “Really? Trying to help all of Paris, like a hero, is ‘boring shit’ to you?” 

Alya only shrugged. “I’m not a hero. I’m simply a reporter.”

Nathaniel stared, revolting grime clogging his throat and sending shivers along his ribcage. What the heck was she talking about? She was the main source of hero information! And she wasn’t even going to do anything about that? 

“Fine. I’ll help you.” He had to. There was no good outcome of Alya leading the Beetleblog and its fans with such a rash and stupid mindset.

“Marinette, you’re lucky I’m good at lying.” 

No response.

“Why did you tell them I was your babysitter?”

Nothing.

“Do you need to stay with me?”

The young girl shook her head. She can’t hear him. She can, she can’t understand. Alim went along with the lie she invented, and now she had to… Gosh, what did she just do? Alim was on her file now, and Mendeleiev will certainly be looking for signs of neglect. 

They arrived at his home, empty since Alix was still at school. Marinette followed Alim inside, numb and fingertips tingling. The moment the front door was closed, Plagg and Duusu wasted no time flying out of their ding spots, looking over their chosen guardian with concern in their eyes. 

“Marinette, I need to know.” Alim kneeled in front of her, causing her to look down at him. “I need to know if you are safe at home. I have a bedroom you could occupy if need be.”

Oh, why was he like this? Her vision wavered, but her fingertips burned with ice. She shook her head again. 

“Kid, what’s happening? Why won’t you talk to us?” Plagg bit her earlier. The skin wasn’t broken, she thinks. What sort of teeth marks could the body-less void leave her with?

“It’s trauma.” Duusu blinked. “Lots of heroes have it. It’s best to just give her time.”

“You mean your holders are like this all the time?” Plagg glared. “What the — How do you guys even deal with that?”

“Not all the time.” Alim interrupted Duusu’s retort. “Just… please argue somewhere else.”

Marinette doesn’t know if the Kwami’s listened to him. The vein in her neck pulsed.  

“I…” Marinette didn’t want to talk. Her throat is full of cotton, her stomach in shambles. “I can’t… stay.” 

Alim doesn’t immediately say anything. He simply steps away, into the kitchen. Whatever he’s doing, Marinette ignores. She instead slumps on the couch in the living room. The coffee table that was used to play board games was now covered with flyers and pictures and whatnot. The exhibit Alim was working on.

I don’t want to go. Alim was still in the kitchen. I should run, while he isn’t looking.

But she doesn’t move. Moving is exhausting. And as Alim comes back with a hot mug of tea, Marinette was glad she was too tired to run away.

“Marinette, please explain what’s in your head.” Alim sat next to her, holding his own mug of tea. Marinette sipped her, letting the warmth relax her throat, and release the icy grip on her fingers. 

“I need freedom.” Marinette mutters, barely loud enough for Alim to hear. “I can’t be… Ange… and live with Alix. She will know something’s up.”

“We can figure it out. Marinette, you can’t be left alone in a house with no one to help you! Your parents are in London right now, a whole two hours away. What if something happens to you?”

“I’m Ange Noir.” Marinette sighed. “I’ll figure it out. But I need to be able to work with mine and Duusu’s Miraculous. I just… can’t do that here.”

“Marinette, please reconsider.”

“No!” Marinette slams her mug down, ignoring the tea that spills over, landing on the table. “I don’t need you to do that. If I stay here, doing all my superhero stuff, then you’re going to lie to Alix. If your son comes to visit, you’ll need to lie to him. I’m not having you do any of that. It’s safer for both you and me if I stay home. So that’s final.”

Alim sat in the silence her statement implied. Asked for. Demanded.

Marinette stayed silent too. 

Something was up. Nathaniel sat at his usual lunch table, sitting across from Chloe. Both sat in an unbearable silence, waiting for their one connecting link. But Marinette was nowhere to be seen. Her class arrived before their class did, all of 202B sitting and eating and chatting, ready to go home after lunch. 

“So…” Nathaniel chewed on his nail. “How’s your day?” 

“Please don’t try to talk to me.” Chloe rolled her eyes, eating sushi with a disgusting regal aura that made Nathaniel squirm.

“I’m just trying to make conversation. Awkward silence is stressful.” 

Chloe scoffed. “Then tell me about your day.” 

The boy sighed. Why did Marinette become her friend? How the heck did she get Chloe to be civilized? “Uh, Alya asked me to help her on her blog.” 

“God, her?” Chloe scoffed. “Please tell me you kicked her ass.” 

“She called teaching anger management and finding therapists ‘boring shit’.” He deadpanned, picking at the skin near his nails.

“Ever since she posted all that Anti-Ange shit, I’ve hated that Cesaire brat.” Chloe growled, which caught Nathaniel off-guard. Chloe really liked Ange, huh?

“I think I hate her a bit, too.” Nathaniel shrugged. “I agreed to help her. She shouldn’t be the only one in her position. It’ll hurt Paris in the long run.” 

The bell rang just then, jerking the two out of their hate-filled camaraderie. They went right back to being strangers with a singular friend as their connecting links.

“Where’s Marinette?” Chloe frowned, catching the attention of a girl from the other class.

“Oh! Marinette went home early today. Mendeleiev said she wasn’t feeling well.” The girl tilted her head, eyes wide and down-turned. 

Nathaniel glanced at Chloe. Marinette wasn’t well?

She left before Alix came home. Marinette didn’t want her to ask any more questions. Alix knows too much. That’s why she can’t stay. Alix may not look it, but Marinette knew the girl was smart. 

“Marinette?” Duusu had tears in their eyes. 

“Kid, please, what’s wrong?” Plagg settled on her shoulder. “I’m sorry for biting you.”

“I don’t know.” Marinette sighed. “I’m probably just sick or something. I’ll call out of school tomorrow.”

Thursday. October 25, 2012

He didn’t want both of his dads to come. One was loud and obnoxious, and the other didn’t do anything to rein his husband in. They both wanted to come since they started their pet grooming business together, Dad doing the actual grooming, and Ba handling all the paperwork. 

But really, one dad was enough. 

“Come on Kim! You know we’re a joy to be around!” Dad grinned, pulling his hair into a fast braid, standing in the entryway wearing the ugliest yellow shirt God could create. 

“I only needed Ba, not both of you!” Kim groaned, almost whined (though he’d never admit that. Whining was for babies!)

“Khỉ!” Ba scolded, gathering papers and his wallet and keys. “Quit bothering your dad and grab your stuff!”

Kim rolled his eyes, and ambled to his room. 

“God, they’re so annoying.”  

“I think it’s sweet. Not everyone is lucky to have loving parents.” Xuppu chirped, hanging upside-down on the stem of a desk lamp. If there was anything Kim didn’t like about being a hero, it was these small creatures who always spoke to him. Xuppu was fine, really, but they really got on Kim’s nerves sometimes.

“Please be quiet. I don’t want to hear you right now,” Kim grumbled.

Xuppu fell silent, and Kim scoffed, grabbing his bag and turning to leave.

Chloe stood outside the school, chewing her lip. She analyzed every student walking past, looking for those familiar pigtails, bluebell eyes. But Marinette was nowhere to be seen. Nathaniel had joined her at some point, on edge, but staying silent (Thank God) looking for his friend as well. 

Five minutes until the bell rings. Chloe pulled out her phone, unlocking it and wasting no time in calling her friend. 

“Hello?” Marinette’s voice chimed.

“Are you running late?” Chloe frowned, voice harsher than she wanted.

“Oh, for school? I’m not feeling well. I’m skipping today.” The other girl replied, sounding just… depressed. Chloe’s forced to think about tear-stained postcards hidden in a box.

Shaking her head to clear it, Chloe huffs. “Okay then. I’ll come by after school.” She glanced at the awkward redhead standing off to the side, eyes unsure. “And I’ll bring your other friend, too.”

“Gee, thanks.” Nathaniel deadpanned.

“Okay, I’ll see you guys later. Bye.”

“Goodbye.” Chloe listened to the call end, holding her phone to her face for a few seconds longer. The bell rang, and Chloe sighed. “C’mon, let’s go to class.” She ordered Nathaniel, heading inside.

Marinette passed the time by studying the Tome, reading over the powers of the Miraculous. Hanuman mentioned only having one power, but Marinette could use both Cataclysm and Pursuit. So obviously, there must be some sort of divide between the knowledge Beetlebug and his crew have, and Marinette’s. 

“They didn’t have the Guardian Tome.” Duusu suggests. Marinette was moved to agree. 

“The Circlet of the Monkey is home to Xuppu, a fun-loving and carefree spirit. We have found the Circlet is used best for Morale, or to keep watch over kids. Hóu Zi has been using the Circlet for this very purpose, watching over the Temple Youths, and teaching students’ situational awareness in the form of pranks. 

There shouldn’t be any understatement about the Circlets fighting prowess, however. Hóu Zi uses a Ruyi Bang for both offense and defense. In addition, the main ability of the Circlet is called Uproar, in which the Ruyi Bang will glow, and whatever is struck will be given chaotic energy, unable to keep its original use, and instead taking on a random assortment of skills, appearances, and uses. 

Another power Hóu Zi discovered has been given the name Unbind. Sifu Aiguo was annoyed at young Hóu Zi’s antics, and had Mìfēng use Venom to freeze the boy for a period of time. But Hóu Zi called out to Xuppu, whose Chaotic nature made the Comb’s power of Subjection void. Sifu Aiguo was furious!”

She chuckles, absent-mindedly stroking Plagg’s head, reading about the Order, a small family who all shared the secret of the Miraculous, who laughed and played together. Took up the mantle of hero together. Marinette sat alone in her room, alone in the building. The Bakery was closed for the next few days, all the hired employees given a small vacation. The only living things were a small girl and her two gods. 

“Well, there’s something to tell Hanuman.” Marinette hummed, now searching for the pages on the Tiger Miraculous. Maybe if she was feeling generous, Marinette would even look up the Ladybug earrings, and help Beetlebug. Maybe. 

The Adults stood along the back wall, watching all the other parents come up front, explaining their own jobs. Ms. Bustier had asked each student to write five sentences about each job talked about, which was all well and good for certain jobs, like Alix’s dad’s job at the Louvre. But what could Kim write about cooking at a hotel? If only Alya’s dad was here instead, he worked at the zoo, and wild animals like tigers and shit were a whole hell of a lot cooler than rotisserie chicken.

Kim bounced his knee, chewing his lip. Knowing his dads were standing there, waiting for their turn to be excitable, like a pair of puppies, loud and annoying. Kim was second to last, alphabetically, and it was goddamn torture waiting. 

Nathaniel’s mom was up there right now, and she looked just like Nathaniel with a different color palette. Brown hair, brown eyes, short. She worked at a law firm, some sort of file keeper. Honestly, what can Kim write about with that? She keeps files, and like, organizes. Sure. And then what? Does she fight evil lawyers off when they want a record of a past trial? What the hell does she do? Kim merely repeated whatever sentences she said pretty much, word for word, and called that good enough for this shitty assignment.

After Ms. Kurtzburg finished going on about whatever, next came up Rose’s mom, who was a saleswoman. God, these boring jobs.

Alim quietly excused himself from the class, heading to the class next door, anxious. He had thought about standing in as a parent for Marinette, so she wouldn’t feel left out. But he was unsure if he was allowed to do that, since he wasn’t actually related to the girl in any way, But then Ms. Sancour had represented for Adrien Agreste, and the whole thing made Alim feel comfortable enough to ask Ms. Mendeleiev if he could do the same.

He knocked on the door to 202B and opened it a sliver. The noise caught everyone’s attention, and Alim searched for Marinette… but she was nowhere to be seen.

“One moment, Mr. Kubdel.” The teacher nodded and turned to her students and guests. “Please continue Career Day in my absence. I should only take a few minutes.” And with that, she left the classroom, leading Alim a few steps away from the door, brows furrowed. 

“Marinette isn’t here?” 

Ms. Mendeleiev sniffed. “No, she called in sick this morning. I am quite shocked you didn’t know this already, since she’s supposed to be in your care while her parents are gone.” She raised an eyebrow. “Unless there’s more to this story than I presume?”

The man sighed. Honestly, what was Marinette doing? She shouldn’t be Ange Noir, and she shouldn’t be living all alone, and she should’ve stayed at his house last night. “She wanted to go home yesterday. I tried to convince her to stay… but…”

“Let me be clear, Mr. Kubdel.” Ms. Mendeleiev stepped close, eyes sharp and frown oh so disappointed. “I am one second away from calling ASE to check out her house. The fact that a thirteen-year-old girl spent last night in her home, alone, could be a case for neglect.”

The two adults stared at each other. Alim didn’t know what to say. Ms. Mendeleiev sighed, stepping back. 

“I don’t want to disrupt Marinette’s life. It’ll be nothing but emotional turmoil should I make the call. But I am legally required to make the call. And to be honest, I care for her too.” 

His throat was thick, and he grimaced. “She doesn’t want to stay with me.” He confessed, sadness wavering in his vocal cords. “I’ve asked her. I have the room and the time. But she… likes being alone. She doesn’t want to be an inconvenience, and I don’t know how to prove otherwise.”

“That is hardly an excuse—” A bright blue light interrupted the teacher, and the adults found themselves with large, blocky metal braces on their necks, and the rest was a blur.

Adrien was quick to leave the classroom the moment Officer Raincomprix stormed out of the classroom, absolutely sure that an akuma was going to appear. There were four different people it could be; The Officer, the Mayor, Kim, or Monsieur Ature, one of Kim’s fathers. 

(Adrien was definitely going to think about the two husbands later. But now was not the time to have a crisis.)

Right now, the boy jumped into the bathroom, and after checking the stalls, transformed and started patrolling the school. Either a butterfly or an akumatized victim. Something will show up soon.

“I will destroy the Mayor!”

Or… show up now. Beetlebug looked around and saw… a robot with a bunch of people following it. The followers had metal collars, and their eyes were dim. Brainwashed?

“Beetlebug!” a voice whispered. The hero spun around and was met with Kim, whose expression was just… too complicated to understand.

“What do you need? It’s not good to be here, there’s an Akuma about.” Beetlebug glanced back, relieved to see that the robot hadn’t seen them yet.

“I’m Hanuman.” Kim said plainly, taking Beetlebug's focus and made him stare. 

“W-what?” Flabbergasted, Adrien could only call the floundering thoughts he had as Flabbergasted. “That… you’re telling the truth?” Please, please be lying. 

“I have a Kwami named Xuppu, and my Miraculous is a crown-band thing.” Kim explained, eyes darting around. And… Kim could still be lying, Adrien didn’t know anything about the Monkey Miraculous, but no one knew about Kwami’s, so that made Kim’s confession far more believable.

“Okay, so you’re Hanuman.” Beetlebug stared at his classmate. “Why are you telling me?”

“I don’t know where my Miraculous is!” Kim freaked out, reaching for Beetlebug’s shoulders and holding them tight. “I was too stressed about my parents this morning and I have no clue where my Miraculous is!”

Kim had interrupted Officer Raincomprix’s explanation of his job, worrying about his missing headband, and making a fuss about it. It pissed off the Officer, and the Mayor had gotten mad at the Officer’s rage, causing an argument that M. Ature had tried to break up, while scolding Kim for making a scene. But, if this Headband was actually Kim’s Miraculous… Beetlebug didn’t know what he would do if he lost his Miraculous. 

Kim eyed the earrings that Beetlebug absentmindedly reached for, maybe to subconsciously reassure himself that they were still there, and not lost. Kim frowned. “I take my Miraculous off at night, ‘cause it’s not something I can sleep with.” 

“Okay… Okay.” Beetlebug nodded to himself. “So it’ll be me and Tigress. That’s fine. We can do this.”

“I’ll look for my Miraculous, I’ll be quick.” With that, Kim let go of Beetlebug’s shoulders, and ran off. The lack of warmth left Adrien shivering. 

(CRISIS LATER! CRISIS LATER YOU USELESS—)

Nathaniel hid under his desk when Rogercop burst in with Mr. Kubdel and Ms. Mendeleiev in tow, as his servants. A bunch of the adults were zapped with blue light, except for Mayor Bourgeois and M. Ature, who were zapped with red light. The blue light seemed to turn people into servants, and the red light seemed to have no effect, simply giving the two adults the same garish collar, but without taking away their independence.

But still, the collars were scary, and Nathaniel didn’t want to be attacked with either Ray.

“Follow me, to Hôtel de ville!” The Akuma cried. “You Prisoners, obey me, or you get punished.”

“What?” M. Ature asked, and Nathaniel could see his body shake. Where did the kids go? Were they taken? Or are they servants too? 

An electric charge, and M. Ature started to scream, body seizing and falling over, hitting the desk on his way down. Nathaniel shoved a fist in between his teeth, biting down hard, throat tensed and ready to yell. He closed his eyes, shaking and ready to run. Listened to the cop and his cronies walking away until the room was silent. 

Holy shit I’m gonna die I’m gonna die I don’t want to die where did my mom go why is she mind controlled I’M GOING TO LOSE MY MOM WHERE THE HECK ARE THE HEROES?

“Hey! Redhead!” 

He screamed, thrashing out in defense, hitting something warm, something grabbing for his hands. 

“IT’S ME YOU IDIOT!” A boy’s voice, and decidedly not the akuma’s. He risked opening his eyes and stared directly at Kim, who was grabbing at his wrists. 

“Quit hitting me! I’m trying to help you.” Kim grumbled, leaning away. “The fuck are you on?”

“The akuma! It’s hurting them!” Nathaniel shoved himself away, as far from the other boy as possible, hitting his head on the wood of the desk. “T-the collars!”

“I know about the collars, it turns people into henchmen.” 

“No, no! He was screaming! I-it hurt-t him! The red light makes a sho-ock collar!” He was stuck shaking. His hand is warm. And cold. Nathaniel looked down and saw it, wet from spit and tears and blood, welling up from between his first two knuckles. 

“Damn.” Kim swore under his breath, pushing himself to his feet. “You need to head home. The Akuma left the school, so it’s safe to run now.”

“De ville.”

“Huh?”

“Hôtel de ville. That’s w-where he’s headed.” His legs trembled, but Nathaniel managed to pull himself up, still avoiding getting too close to Kim. 

The tall boy nodded, brows furrowed. What was he thinking about? “All right. Okay. You, go home. 

“Are you gonna go home too?” Nathaniel frowned. This wasn’t the time to be all heroic, and try to save everyone. Now was the time to run, right?

“Yeah, I will, I was just looking for something.” Kim waved the boy off and started crouching to look under desks and chairs. 

And despite Nathaniel’s strong desire to turn tail and flee, he just… wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving anyone behind. “What are you looking for? I can help you find it?”

Kim jumped, hitting his head on a desk. “Fuck!” He growled, leaning back and rubbing his head. “No, I can look for my shit myself.”

“But–”

“I probably left it at home. So there, I’ll go home, find my stuff, and you can leave me alone.” Kim stood up and grabbed Nathaniel’s wrist, dragging him out of the classroom and down the hall.

“Ack!” Nathaniel yanked his arm away. “Let go of me!” 

“Go home!” Kim dared to command, and like, Nathaniel was gonna go home, he wanted to stay out of the way of the villain and the heroes, but Kim acting the way he is right now? Nathaniel sort of wanted to stay right where he was. Sort of. The villain was unlikely to come back now. But no one gets to talk to Nathaniel like that. 

Plan in mind, Nathaniel waited until Kim was far enough away, and started following.

Chapter Text

Rogercop is a formidable foe. His body was heavily armored, no match against her Bolo Whip, or Beetlebug’s yoyo. Heck, if Ange Noir was here, her staff probably wouldn’t do anything either. Armor aside, Rogercop could shoot you with rays of light that either tortured you or took over your mind. A super fucked up Villain premise, the worst one yet in Tigress’s mind.

Sure, maybe forcing all the adults to stay in the sky was terrifying in an odd, disconnected way. But watching M. Ature scream in pain, neck brace stained red and fingertips bleeding? He was the only reason Beetlebug and Tigress weren’t inside the Mayor’s Building, kicking ass and saving the day. 

Beetlebug called for his lucky charm, and received a teapot, ancient and oriental in shape. Beetlebug had no clue what to do with this, and Tigress couldn’t figure it out either.

Rogercop shot more lasers at them, the projectiles obliterating the building corner that the heroes were hiding behind. The Akuma cried out against his mistreatment, and the Mayor’s abuse of power, claiming that France should be under his reign as dictator. 

The Mayor also had the shock collar, but the man was too cowardly to go against the supervillain, and his collar never went off, unlike M. Ature. 

“Fuck You Fuck You Fuck You!” M. Ature jumped on Rogercop’s back, trying to pry his helmet open, presumably to reach the soft, fleshy face underneath. In the correct light, Tigress could see the rage in Officer Raincomprix’s eyes. 

Rogercop reached back with his left fist and shot off a red beam. It struck M. Ature, and his arms were now handcuffed. Another beam locked his ankles together, rendering M. Ature motionless. Tigress could only watch on in despair. 

“We need Uproar.” Beetlebug growled. 

“Or cataclysm.” Tigress whimpered. Who thought she was strong enough to be a hero?

God, God, God!

The Bakery was empty, horrible so. Chloe used the spare key Marinette gave her and opened the back door, getting into the house portion of the building. Where was Marinette? How sick was she? If she was too sick to be Ange Noir, then could Chloe step in? Would Marinette and Plagg even allow that?

“What are you doing here?” Duusu phased through the ceiling, stopping Chloe at the stairs. 

“There’s an akuma.” Chloe explained.

Duusu shook their head. “Marinette isn’t able to fight right now.”

“What about me?” Chloe frowned. “I can use the ring! I’ll give it back as soon as the Akuma is defeated.”

The kwami shook their head again. “You wouldn’t be able to use Plagg. He already has a champion.”

“What?” Her shoulders fell, confusion rising up to join the panic.

Duusu lowered their body, meeting Chloe face to face. “Anyone can use a Miraculous, but only one user can be called the Kwami’s champion. The… true user, I should say. Marinette managed to reach that level with Plagg years ago, and if you were to try to use the ring now… It’d be pretty painful, I think.” The blue Kwami lowered again, and Chloe held out a hand to catch them. “I’m sorry, miss. There isn’t anything you can do.”

Chloe stepped back, brows furrowed. “And I can’t use you?” She wanted to do something, be a hero, repent for her past actions, anything to help. 

“No, I cannot be fixed yet,” Duusu hummed. A hum that made Chloe shiver with barely there memories. The girl looked down at her feet, and the dry wood underneath her shoes felt wrong, but Chloe couldn’t think of what she should be standing on instead.

“Then what do I do?” Chloe asked, pleading. “There has to be something!” 

Duusu glanced at the trapdoor, a faint light emanating from their body, pulsing as they thought. “Be there for her.” They answered. Duusu moved to look directly at Chloe, red eyes holding a wisdom that only a god could possess.

“Right now, just be there for her. Marinette is Paris’s hero, and she needs you to be hers.”

He trailed after Kim, attention split between his target and the akuma that could attack at any moment. Nathaniel worried his lower lip, which started to bleed. Something animalistic thumped under his skin. His eyesight felt sharper, his movements uncharacteristically graceful.

Nathaniel didn’t fully understand how Kim hadn’t seen him yet. His bright red hair was hardly hidden, his bright blue eyes barely averted to hide its true intentions. The streets were empty, there was no noise but the two pairs of shoes hitting the concrete and stone beneath. How was Kim ignoring him? 

Like a fox in the grass. Stalking, carefully keeping an eye on a fledgling, afraid and calm and Nathaniel can’t really begin to understand the precipice that breezes over him, snapping his jacket and swaying the branches he stood under. 

Kim entered an apartment building. Nathaniel had no clue where he was in the city of Paris. Which arrondissement, what street corner. It was so silent. Water rushing in the background of the silence. He wasn’t alone. He knew this for sure. A limb reaching out, fingers brushing past his soul, calling out and crying. He is needed somewhere. Nathaniel almost leaves Kim to follow the feeling he experienced when he recited prayers at Minyan with his father and mother, before his father left and his mother only took him to shul every other month, too angry to read and pray with her whole heart the way she used to. 

Her anger was fire, and the Torah was like water, and Nathaniel needed to chase the scent of water, to stalk the grass until he finds his burrow and digs into his place in the cosmos, watchful and cunning, surviving and guiding.

Nathaniel takes a deep breath, and the emotion leeches away, and he is just a boy, standing under a tree, and staring at the doors of an apartment building. He is thirteen, a young boy who was truthfully too nosy for his own good. 

Hanuman was there, leaving the building with his eyes darting around, searching for something. His gaze skirts over Nathaniel, and he grins with pride. The hero leaps away, leaving Nathaniel stricken and drained. 

That stupid grin. Nathaniel knows that grin. That grin is aimed at Max every time it defeats a challenge, and wins a race against Alix. 

There was supposed to be magic to hide their identities. Nathaniel doesn’t know if that piece of knowledge stemmed from Alya’s blog or from whatever mindset he was struck with a few moments prior. But the mask of Lê Chiến Kim Ature was removed, ripped away, and Nathaniel didn’t move. 

Nathaniel didn’t dare think anymore about this. He’s only thirteen, he’s simply trying to get through secondary school whilst being threatened by a Butterfly-themed supervillain. He didn’t have time to stick his nose in other people’s business; he was already dragged into Alya’s drama. 

He forced the mask back onto the hero’s face, and the boy turned around and walked back the way he came, the opposite direction of Hanuman and Hôtel de ville and all that crap. 

He’s a normal boy, and he’s gonna have a normal life, dammit.

Master Fu has taken to letting Wayzz out of the gramophone lately. No longer was the god trapped in the void. His bracelet was adorning the thin wrist of the man who was, above all else, unworthy. 

The pair of unhappy souls watched television, watched the young heroes struggle to fight the latest akuma. Beetlebug called his Lucky Charm and was given a teapot. Wayzz glanced at the teapot Fu was currently using to pour his tea. 

Tikki, you stubborn god. She knew they didn’t have the capability of fighting this Akuma. Her powers didn’t match up well, and neither did Roarr’s. Xuppu and Plagg would be better suited for this battle, but even then… perhaps himself, or Barkk? A Kwami who could protect themselves from mind control or shock collars. Maybe the Sentinels from Duusu? If they were available. But Wayzz wasn’t sure where they were, or how they were doing. Duusu was with Ange, but last Wayzz knew their brooch had been cataclysmed. 

Fu didn’t seem to recognize the pot the same way Wayzz did, simply watching with a passive look on his face, way too calm. Did he not understand that Tikki was asking for help? Wayzz sighed. The heroes were going to win, that he knew. But this battle would not be easy.

Hanuman ran as fast as he could, heart heavy and pumping. Xuppu had been so mad when Kim barged into his room. The little Kwami was silent, but glared something awful, like a god of rage that would evaporate every atom in Kim’s body.

But he put on the headband and transformed into Hanuman. Kim could have this talk once his dad was no longer being tortured.

The hero ran into Beetlebug and Tigress, crouching behind a chimney on a roof near Hôtel de ville, talking to each other with hushed voices. 

“I am here!” Hanuman announced, sparing an apologetic glance towards Beetlebug. He looked around, noting the absence of a certain villain. Good. “What’s the plan?”

Tigress turned to peek from behind the chimney. “Rogercop has the Mayor under custody, in a collar that shocks you if you make him upset. His other shock collar victim passed out a few moments ago.”

“I think we need to use Uproar on his lasers,” Beetlebug suggested. “I’m going to detransform soon, so I’ll leave and come back. Then we can attack with Uproar and a better lucky charm.”

“We can’t wait, though!” Tigress snapped, whipping around to face Beetlebug. Hanuman slipped his head past the chimney. There, on the stone walkways… was his dad.

Fingertips bloody.

Passed out… from shock?

Dad was shocked till he fainted?

A word rested on Kim’s tongue, something heavy and unknown, a word he couldn’t find the shape for.

Beetlebug ran away, off to do whatever, but Hanuman just couldn’t wait for him to come back!

“We need to do something.” Hanuman turns to Tigress, who is chewing her lip, nervous. 

This is a dumb thing to do. Absolutely stupid, and dumb, and honestly, they are no better than the humans. A blue figure zipped from shadow to shadow, able to avoid any witnesses thanks to their See vision, which is a lot stronger than when diluted by a user.

Tikki’s user ran off, and the world’s energies shivered as she was released from her earrings, a power that coated their feathers. Duusu took the opportunity to find Xuppu and Roarr’s users. 

A mob of police officers stood in the town square, all slack-jawed and obedient, leaving an empty space where a single man lay on the floor, near the center. Rogercop was nowhere to be seen. He probably went inside.

“Hey!” Duusu approached Tigress, the nicer of the Guardian’s soldiers. “I can help!” The two humans flinched, started. Of course, they don’t know who Duusu is! “I am the Kwami of the Peacock Miraculous, Duusu. I can make sentinels out of inorganic materials, and they don’t have brains or nerves!” 

Hanuman and Tigress just stared at them, and Duusu slowly blinked. They don’t have time to be sitting ducks, but if these Guardian soldiers don’t want to save Paris, then so be it! 

“We can distract Rogercop.” Tigress looks at Xuppu’s user. “Then you can mess up his laser.” 

Hanuman grimaced. “What about Beetlebug?”

“What about him?” Duusu asked. “If he uses Tikki’s Charm, he’s going to get another teapot. Or a gong. Something that you guys can’t use. Tikki is too loyal to ever dare to suggest me.”

“What?” Tigress mumbled. And sure, maybe Duusu shouldn’t have told them about Tikki, or the fact that the Guardian had a really forceful grip on the poor ladybug. Do they even know about the Guardian? Duusu hopes so, because that would be downright neglectful of them!

“Let’s go!” Duusu flies away.

Beetlebug comes back to total chaos.

He returns to their hiding spot, only to see his teammates jump in without him. Wasn’t the Ladybug the leader? The most powerful? 

Then a bomb went off. A loud noise followed by the sound of debris. Beetlebug jumped to the top of the chimney, and sees the remains of a statue, strewn across the square, covered in the blood of police officers. 

“What the hell?”

“Sentinel!” The stone started to come together, sticking with pale blue light, until three hulking figures stood at the edge of the square, taller than anyone Beetlebug had seen. Maybe as big and wide as his driver? Rogercop blew the front door of De ville wide open and immediately started shooting the Sentinels. They were struck by blue and red rays, covered in metal collars and restraints, but the Stone giants simply shuffled the rocks that made up their body, shifting into different. less humanoid forms. The shock collars went off, but they seemed to have no effect. 

“What the hell?” Beetlebug watched Tigress the Sentinels beat back the police, heading for Rogercop, and then—

“UPROAR!” Hanuman jumped in like a meteor, aiming for the wrist with the laser shooter (the akuma, perhaps?) 

A red light washed over Hanuman, and then the staff hit its target. Rogercop couldn’t make any more brainwashed followers, but Hanuman (Kim, Adrien’s mind unhelpfully supplied) was being electrocuted. It all happened so fast, leaving Beetlebug breathless. 

Who made the Sentinels?

Wayzz watched on the television. Duusu must have intervened, creating a distraction that could fend for itself. But did they really need to Shout the statue to pieces? There must have been another way to get supplies for their sentinels? Multiple people were killed with that stunt!

“What is that?” Fu sat up, scowling. “Those rocks helped that damn beast last summer! Where is she?” 

“I don’t think Ange Noir is there.” Wayzz muttered, tense and wanting to hide in his shell. He could see Duusu near Hanuman’s ear, a small speck of blue pixels, easy to miss if one wasn’t looking for them. Probably trying to tell him how to Unbind. Wayzz looked at Fu. He didn’t even attempt to train his chosen heroes, only telling Adrien that Ange Noir was evil. The old man hasn’t even visited Adrien since that first initial meeting. 

Why did Wayzz find himself bound to that old fool’s wrist?

Hanuman broke free, leaping forward and whacking Rogercop’s wrist a second time, and a thin band fell to the floor. Beetlebug purified the Butterfly that crawled out, and Rogercop was no more. 

But. Now there was another issue. Without Ange Noir, how would the damages be fixed?

Chloe wrapped herself around her friend in a very platonic and friendly way. Marinette had cried herself sick, eyes red and nose full of snot, which like, ew, but Chloe still wanted to squeeze the girl tight and make everything better. Marinette’s head rested under her chin, arms draped around Chloe’s waist. Everything was okay. Chloe wasn’t warring over feeling happy at the cuddling or distressed about the reason for cuddling. 

Marinette’s parents were in London. They just. Left for London and didn’t tell anyone, not even their daughter. How could they leave her behind like that? 

So it was only Chloe and Plagg wrapping themselves around Marinette, trying to convince her she was loved, despite everything that was going on. God, how was Marinette dealing with that Ange Noir negativity? 

…

Duusu left at some point, and Chloe had a feeling they went to go help with the Akuma. Which is good. Beetlebug needed all the help he could get. It still killed her that she couldn’t do anything, but oh well. Marinette was more important.

A fluttering caught her attention. Chloe opened her eyes and saw a golden butterfly squeeze through the circular window panes. The Akuma!

“Marinette?” Chloe nudged the small girl awake. “The butterfly is here, probably to fix everything.”

“Oh…” Marinette squinted at the bright light, voice dry and eyes crusted together. 

“Don’t worry, Bread, I got this.” Plagg moved forward, pushing red energy into the golden butterfly, turning it the colors of flame. 

Phoenix Monarch. Chloe closed her eyes, letting the warmth wash over her fingers, over her tense shoulders, relaxing her tight muscles. Marinette sighed in relief, relaxing into Chloe. Which did not make her blush like a silly schoolgirl. 

The day was saved, apparently.

The sun was starting to set when Chloe heard the front door open below. Two voices mumbled together, a man and a woman. Marinette’s parents. 

Marinette has long removed herself from her bed, absently rereading her translation of the old Miraculous book she had. Chloe had no real idea what was up with that thing. It was super boring and just talked about a bunch of old, dead people stuff. But Plagg and Duusu said it was a super important book, so whatever, Marinette can be all smart and Chloe can just sit there and look pretty 

“Marinette! We have something amazing to tell you!” The man called from downstairs. It didn’t even sound like he was waiting at the ladder, which is just so rude! But Marinette got up and opened the trapdoor, heading down wordlessly.

Chloe didn’t know what to do. Her parents didn’t know she was here, and Chloe didn’t want them to know she was. They made Marinette so upset. 

Pieces of shit. 

She decides to eavesdrop, kneeling by the now closed trapdoor. 

“Oh Marinette, darling, we wish you were able to come!” The woman’s voice is high-pitched and simpering. Sycophantic. “The venue was simply majestic!”

“And the company was so kind, they even paid us a sizable tip! You know how those Americans are.” The man laughed. Oh god, it was like having two Audrey’s.

“Speaking of that,” Chloe could hear the grin that nasty woman must’ve been wielding, her eyes were probably full of false brightness, pretending to actually care about her daughter’s opinion. “We were offered a chance to cater a charity event in New York, right across the pond!”

“What?” Marinette finally responded to whatever her parents were saying. “New York?” 

“Yes!” the woman squealed. “We are going to go on a trip across the states! Your father and I have been saving up, and we can provide catering to politicians and celebrities, using this charity as the beginning of our American network!”

“You’re going to America?” Marinette sounded close to tears.

“All three of us!” the man corrected.

Chloe gasped, staring at the wooden floor. Marinette? In the United States? But… But who would hang out with her after school? Who would fill the lunch period with laughter and small talk? Where would Chloe—and that redhead, to a lesser extent—find someone who could withstand their unique personalities? What about—

Two pairs of eyes fixed their gaze with her own, blue darting between green and red. What about the Kwami? Who would take care of them? Would they go to America and leave Paris in the hands of Beetlebug? 

“I–I can’t go.” Marinette is definitely crying now, her voice broken and almost too faint to overhear. “I have school here.”

“There are online programs! You won’t miss out!” 

“My friends?” 

“You could always call them, my dear. And besides, you’ll make many friends in America!”

“But…” Chloe could feel her heartache at the absolute pain in Marinette’s voice. “I can’t go. I… refuse ... to go. I need to stay here.” 

No one said anything. Chloe wanted to run down there and squeeze her friend. Run her hands through that dark hair and kiss her temple, praying that she could make the hurt go away.

Chloe stepped away from the trapdoor, sitting at the desk. She couldn’t hear anymore, didn’t hear anymore. Plagg and Duusu settled on her shoulders, and she petted their heads, stomach full of lead.

After a few minutes, Marinette came back up. Those red eyes must be permanent at this point. She practically fell into Chloe’s embrace.

“Come to my home tonight. You can stay as long as you need,” Chloe offered, trembling. 

“They’re leaving in the morning.” The smaller girl said, listless. “I hate them.”

Chloe didn’t say anything. She just provided what comfort she could. 

After that disastrous career day, full of just… strange happenings, Adrien sat stiffly on his couch. A Chinese lesson was scheduled right now, but because of the akuma, everything was pushed back. But after the Sentinels, Master Fu must be coming soon, right? 

“Adrien, take a breath.” Tikki sat on the coffee table, eating a shortbread cookie. “The Master will come when he needs to.”

Adrien groaned, throwing his head back on the hard cushions. “Why was the Peacock Kwami there, but Ange was nowhere to be seen? Don’t you Kwami’s need an owner to use your powers?”

“No.” Tikki hummed. “We are gods, child. We are far more powerful without you than with. It is only our affection for humanity that gives you the permission to wield me.”

The answer wasn’t kind. It’s strange that Tikki would pull that sort of attitude, but Adrien ignores it. Tikki turns him into a superhero, she can be a bit sassy. “And Ange Noir?”

Tikki finishes off the cookie with finality. “I don’t know. I could feel Plagg was sad. Maybe something was wrong with his chosen, and Duusu felt they had to step in. Their sentinels are a better match against an akuma like Rogercop.”

“Wait.” Adrien sat up, glaring down at the small red bug. “You can feel Plagg? Like, could you find out where he’s hiding?”

Tikki zipped forwards, face to face with Adrien, molten gold eyes burning with rage and some other deep emotion. 

“Don’t. Ever. Ask me that.” Tikki seethed, voice reverberating, filling Adrien with the fear of God. “We are the Beginning and the End. Two halves of a universal whole. The Emperors of Earth and Fire, Adventure and Home. I will never harm my fellow matriarch, just as Plagg will never harm his fellow patriarch. That old man you call master has no power over us, but if he were to think I could find my brother…”

She snapped out of whatever god-trance she was in, gasping, burning eyes replaced with sorrow. 

“I’m sorry!” Adrien rushed out, hands close to his face, fight-or-flight thrumming in his blood, heart beating fast. “I’m sorry.” Tikki only stared at him for a second, then flew away, hiding in some corner of the large mansion.

Master Fu didn’t visit him that evening.

Akuma Prevention Tactics: An Introductory Guide

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Summary:

The newest writer for the Beetleblog, Ryder, introduces the newest series that will feature on our website: Akuma Prevention methods that have been verified by various therapists and medical professionals, all approved by Beetlebug himself!

“Thank you for coming in such short notice, Ms. Mendeleiev.”

“It is no trouble, Monsieur Kubdel. My highest priority will always be my students.”

“Ah. Yes… well.” Alix hears her father clear his throat. “About that—”

“Let me make one thing clear.” Mendeleiev was stern, putting on her whole hard-ass personality she dons whenever a student does something stupid in her class. Alix gulps. What the heck did her old man do to make the teacher so mad? There are only two ways this meeting will end. Either I leave this office knowing my student will live in a safe, loving environment, or I’ll make a call to ASE, and Marinette will be put into the care of the city. Which will it be?”

Marinette? Alix steps away from the office doors. Why… Why would Marinette’s care be dependent on what her father chooses?

Alim stands up, clenching his fists. “Marinette won’t stay with me. She cannot be a ward of the city! You don’t understand!”

“Then make me.” Mendeleiev challenged. “Make me understand, Mister Kubdel.”

There. Fuck. Alim swallowed down nerves. “I promised her. I cannot say.”

The teacher’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a dismissal? I have a phone call to make, it seems.”

“No!” Alim pleads. “You don’t understand, she has to stay where she is! I want her to stay with me, believe me, I do! But she won’t! And I can’t force her!”

“What does that mean?” Ms. Mendeleiev’s voice is sharp, everything about her is sharp. The breath he is holding wraps around his esophagus like thorns and the edges of his desk press into the palms of his fists and everything is dangerous.

“Marinette is Ange Noir.” He whispers, chokes out. “I want to help her, but I… I can’t.” 

Mendeleiev stares, emotionless. Does she understand the precarious position both adults are in? Does she understand the absolute breach of trust Alim just committed? He is no better than that poor girl’s parents, promising to protect her only to out her as soon as it becomes difficult for him. 

He’s a failure. He doesn’t deserve to be her guardian.

Chapter Text

Friday October 26, 2012

The heart is bleeding even more now. She is up to her waist in thick, coagulated blood, tall grass wrapping around her legs like spindly fingers trying to pull her under. The heart that replaced the sun pulsed red light, and the girl could only watch.

“Soon, my dear…” the voice from the heavens speaks. The veins that pull the heart towards the clouds, yet also anchor it to the ground, started to shrivel, ever so slightly. “Soon, the destruction that binds me will be released.”

“What do I do?” The girl asked. The blood level lowered slightly, and a far-off mountain began to crumble. 

“Soon, godling!”

Marinette methodically opened the trapdoor and went down the ladder, backpack full, and kwami following. The house was silent, save for the bustle of strangers her parents paid to keep their in-building business afloat. Her parents left earlier that morning, before the sun was up.

No one spoke. Marinette simply grabbed a breakfast pastry and headed out, all ready for school. She passed the strangers and stepped outside. Plagg snuggled in her jacket, thick and black and making Marinette feel larger than she was. 

“...Kid?” Plagg asked. 

“Not right now.” Marinette sighed. “I just need to get to school, pay attention, and get good grades. It’s the same as always.” Plagg didn’t say anything, which was just fine. They were starting to get surrounded by fellow students.

Her friends stood at the bottom of the steps, muttering between themselves. Of course. Somehow, Nathaniel and Chloe became sort of friendly with each other. Not nice, Chloe didn’t do nice, but it was the thought that counts. Both of them were frowning, and Marinette was sure Chloe probably let Nathaniel know she wasn’t feeling too well.

“Morning.” Nathaniel smiled, so unsure. “Did… you sleep well?”

Marinette huffed a bit, a smile teasing the corners of her lips. “I know I look like death. All things considered, I think I slept pretty okay.”

“That’s good.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “I had a horrible night!”

“What, did you forget a step in your bedtime routine?” Nathaniel’s eyes squinted. “Forgot step seventeen: wash face with soap made from five-hundred-euro notes-”

“Shut up! That isn’t even a thing!”

Yeah. They’re practically best friends. Marinette rolled her eyes and started to head inside, the other two following her while still bickering. She headed to 201B, guiding her friends to their correct seats. For some reason, Chloe had moved from the front of the room to near the back, near Nathaniel. A girl Marinette vaguely knew was already sitting next to Chloe’s seat, watching the bickering.

“Hi Sabrina.” Marinette smiled. 

“Hi.” Sabrina sniffed. Her eyes seemed red and irritated, now that Marinette was looking closer. 

“How’s your dad?” Marinette pulled at her backpack, unzipping it and grabbing a branded box and handing it to the poor girl.

“Um…” Sabrina shrugged, looking down at the box. She opens it and inside are three chocolate-filled croissants. “He’s okay. He signed up for Anger management classes, thanks to the newest post on the Beetleblog.”

Chloe and Nathaniel stopped arguing immediately. “Really?” Chloe grinned, glancing between the two redheads. 

Sabrina nodded. “Yeah, I was super excited when I saw it, ‘cause I’m a subscriber and I get the notifications, but the Ryder Article really helped us.” She takes a bite of the croissant.

“Ryder Article?” Marinette echoed, confused. She tended to ignore the Beetleblog, only skimming the titles of all the posts. Marinette turned to look at Alya in the front, who was very obviously eavesdropping. 

“Ryder is a second author for the Beetleblog.” Chloe explained. “His first post was all about Akuma Prevention. It was really well written.”

“Huh?” Nathaniel’s eyes were wide. Marinette guessed he didn’t know about this new writer either. She wasn’t too sure why he was blushing, though. 

“Yeah. It’s so much better than the tabloid crap that Alya writes.”

“Excuse me?” Alya stood up, already on the defensive. 

“You better go, Marinette.” Chloe ignored her classmate. “Mendeleiev won’t be happy if you’re late.” 

“Don’t Ignore me!”

“Okay. See you at lunch.” Marinette flashed a smile, then hurried out, not wanting to get in between Alya and Chloe.

“Morning class.”

“Morning Ms. Mendeleiev.” The class responded.

Mendeleiev smiled. “Today is October 26th, Friday. Your essays on Holes by Louis Sachar are due after fall break, and Ms. Bustier wants me to remind you that while the Disney Movie can be used as supplementary material, your essays will be marked as a fail if that is your sole focus. Moving on."

“The Junior Fashion Design Competition has finally announced the theme for the entry round: Bowler Hats. Those who wish to participate will grab an entry form on my desk and turn it in with at least 4 hat designs by the 9th of November. That will give you two weeks to come up with your designs. Rules and other notes will be printed on the backside of the entry form. Good luck to all those who participate.

“There is also the Junior Film Festival. Students are encouraged to present a short film to Mr. Hapréle by the 15th of December, and the top films will be broadcasted during the festival on December 22nd. There are papers on my desk that outline the rules, and at the bottom, there is a team list that you may fill out. Mr. Hapréle expects this list after school tomorrow.”

The bell rang, signaling the end of Homeroom and startling a few tired students awake. Mendeleiev nodded to herself, looking around.

“Now, we will review our section on variables and measurements…”

Ms. Dupain-Cheng was quiet. Olga wasn’t sure if she was taking notes or even paying attention. Honestly, Olga herself was relying on rote memorization to teach this lesson, as much as she disliked that tactic. 

Mr. Kubdel’s words rang in her head. Was the girl truly a hero? That young girl? A Child?

Olga had looked back on when Ange Noir was facing a lot of hate… and Ms. Dupain-Cheng seemed tired and stressed during those times. She was always distracted after an Akuma. Speaking of…

If an Akuma attacked during class, Ms Dupain-Cheng would have to leave class. The first instinct was to not allow it; school time is for learning. But Ms. Dupain-Cheng wouldn’t be slacking off that same way most students would. She’d be saving Paris.

A most troubling thought. 

Olga finished her lesson, just in time for the hour bell to ring. Students gathered their backpacks, ready to head to Ms. Bustier’s classroom.

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng? Please stay here for a second.” Olga sat at her desk. The girl’s eyes were wide, obviously nervous. Poor girl. Everyone left for their next class, but Ms. Dupain-Cheng didn’t move, still sat at her desk. “Please come here.”

The girl stood up, walking forward with a shake in her step. “W-Why…?” She stutters. 

“I wanted to ask you about your living situation.” Olga started. “Mr. Kubdel told me that he offered to house you, but you declined. Is that correct?”

Marinette hesitated, then gave a single nod. 

Olga sighed. “He managed to convince me to leave the issue alone. I still despise the fact, but he claims you thrive with the… excessive independence that your parents give you. Am I correct?”

The girl nods again, chewing on her bottom lip. Olga hopes she has access to some chapstick.

“Then I will leave this matter well alone. Under one condition.” Olga stands, going around her desk and kneeling in front of her student. Poor Marinette’s eyes are wide, nervous. Olga tries her best to send a kind smile, a gesture she doesn’t give to anyone, and it probably looks incorrect, but Olga is trying. “I want you to come to me if you are in trouble.”

Marinette blinks. “Huh?”

Olga puts a hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything, or if you’re in trouble, or even if you’re… lonely. I want you to know you can come to me. I’ll answer your call. Understand?”

Ange Noir’s eyes are pale blue, and confused. No, she does not understand. But Olga knew she would.

Monday October 29 2012

The Louvre was more packed today than any other day Nathaniel had visited. Most of the crowd waited near the arched entrance of the new exhibit, one that boasted to be about the new heroes and some others that haven’t been seen yet. Alya practically frothed at the mouth when she saw a stray flyer and dragged Nathaniel across Paris to see it opening day.

Alya pushed to the front of the crowd, phone in hand, jumping up to see over the taller people. Nathaniel stood behind her, his notes app open. Alya planned on writing about the exhibit, and after Chloe said his articles were better… 

Well, He was going to write the heck out of this article. Plus, he had a secret weapon that Alya didn’t even know about.

A Miraculous Exhibit in the Louvre.

On October 29th, Director Alim Kubdel presented the newest Louvre exhibit that everyone was extremely excited to see: ‘The History of the Miraculous’. Alya and I were there on opening day, excited to write about everything we saw. 

And see it we did. Alya and I decided to post separate articles, since what caught each of our eyes was very different, but the differing viewpoints is a wonderful way for you to experience ‘The History of the Miraculous’ with us.

The exhibit is full of artifacts from a temple placed somewhere in the Himalayan Mountains, near the borders of Nepal and China—The Tibet Autonomous Region, specifically. The temple was both a place of worship and a home for the monks that lived there. They called themselves The Order of the Guardians, guarding and wielding what we now call Miraculous. 

The temple was built around 1600 BCE, and old tapestries that Dir Kubdel managed to find tell the awe-inspiring story of old gods that came down to bless humanity. The Monkey and the Tiger were two of the original gods to come down, along with the rest of the Chinese Zodiac. Then followed the Chinese Elements, and finally, the Cat and the Ladybug.

The Tapestries are easily the main attraction for the exhibit, featuring both Ancient Tibetan script, alongside a new language Dir Kubdel has called “Guardian Script”. As far as we know, only two people can read Guardian Script: Dir Kubdel and his research partner, who has asked to stay anonymous. 

Speaking of, I had the incredible opportunity to talk with Dir Kubdel about his work towards making this new exhibit possible. Here is the transcript:

RYDER: “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Director Kubdel.”

KUBDEL: “Just call me Alim. It’s my pleasure to feature on the Beetleblog, especially since I’ve been working on this temple for years!”

RYDER: “Years? Wow, this must be such a relief then, right? To finally have your work finished?”

KUBDEL: (Laughs) “Well, I wouldn’t call it finished! There’s always more to do.”

RYDER: “Could you explain all the work and effort you put into this exhibit?”

KUBDEL: “Well, I was on an expedition about… fifteen years ago, and my crew and I found the ruins of a temple, covered in snow. There was some sort of conflict, about a hundred, a hundred-fifty years ago, leaving it abandoned. We explored the remains of the temple and found the tapestries. I quickly threw myself into learning ancient Tibetan. I can’t speak it, but I can read it fairly fluently.”

RYDER: “And how did you learn Guardian Script?”

KUBDEL: “I actually only started learning it this year, with help from my partner. [They] managed to find a [source] that used both Ancient Tibetan, Guardian Script, and Mandarin Chinese, making it so much easier to understand both the tapestries and various other documents we managed to recover from the temple.”*

RYDER: “I’m curious, what are all the tapestries talking about? What did this temple worship?”

KUBDEL: “Well, the temple worshipped the Miraculous. Spirits came down and gave certain humans special abilities, like the heroes today. The tapestries say that by following the Miraculous and their various disciplines, one could find Enlightenment.”

RYDER: “What sort of discipline did the Miraculous stand for?”

KUBDEL: “It depends, really. The Ladybug, for example, represents the elements of Earth, Home, and Commitment. The Monkey is Fun, and the Tiger is Courage.”

RYDER: “And Ange Noir?”

KUBDEL: “Fire, Passion, and Adventure. The Cat and the Ladybug were considered Yin and Yang, and they were the last two Miraculous to be given.”

RYDER: “If they are yin and yang, why are they so at odds today?”

KUBDEL: “Well, there are accounts of the first user of the Cat. He… attacked the Temple, tried to steal the other Miraculous. No one wrote down his reasons. But because of his actions, the Temple exiled the Cat, deeming it an evil Miraculous.”

RYDER: “But it isn’t?”

KUBDEL: “It isn’t.”

RYDER: “Thank you so much for agreeing to talk to me today. Are there any final words you’d like to say to the readers of the Beetleblog?”

KUBDEL: “Come visit the Louvre! I assure you, there is so much to learn, and our interview didn’t even cover a percentage of it!”

[End of Transcript]

*Words were changed for confidentiality.

Saturday, November 3

Chloe’s room has never been this messy. What did Marinette do? Pages of random sketchbooks, swatches of fabrics, so many random hats from thrift stores or cutouts from magazines. Strings of all colors tie random piles of shit together, likely a theme of some sort???

“What happened?” Chloe wants to cry. She left to order dinner! She was gone for like, four minutes! What ridiculous tornado did Marinette bring inside?

“Planning.” Marinette was somehow upside-down? So tangled up in string that she was dangling from the ceiling?

“The fuck?”

Adrien and Nathalie both stared at a display of sherds, dusty white with traces of red and blue paint. The Dragon, a label read. Unknown use, possibly to gather and purify water for either drinking or bathing purposes. 

“Interesting.” Adrien hummed. 

Nathalie nodded. “You’re expected to write a page about one artifact here. I’m not sure how much you could write about sherds, though.”

“I feel like writing about the tapestries would be cheating.” Adrien looked around. There were different articles of clothing, and various pieces of artwork, paintings, and sculptures. “I could probably write about the art as a whole, right?”

“That feels sufficient.” Nathalie smiled. She stepped away to examine an old silk painting of a man and a rat sitting on his shoulder, simple and faded. 

Shǔ Biāo with Innovate, the plaque called the piece. 

“I quite like this one.” Nathalie gestured Adrien over. “What do you think?”

The artist in him sang, creativity sparking. Tikki’s energy buzzed underneath his coat, close to his heart. 

“Is Innovate the rat?” Adrien looked at the next painting, featuring a monkey that looked surprisingly like a kwami. Hóu Zi and his friend, Fun.

“These animal spirits certainly have interesting names. Maybe these paintings can focus your essay,” Nathalie suggested. “A study on the names of these animals, and what they mean to the Monks of this temple.”

She stops and stares at one. 

Metal, Wood, Heart.

A butterfly rested on a small turtle, who rested on a peacock. These animals were realistic, but knowing of Monarch, Duusu, and Wayzz meant they must still represent the Kwamis. Which is strange, since Duusu and Wayzz have real names, and Adrien doubts Kim’s kwami is literally called Fun. Does the Guardian Script not translate properly? Maybe what was read as Tikki in Guardian script would say Creation in any other language. 

“I forget Monarch uses a Miraculous.” Adrien sighs. “I mean, the heroes use them too. But…”

“It’s hard to properly comprehend the way Monarch twists what was seen as a blessing from the gods, turning it into a blight that plagues our city and violates our minds.” Nathalie’s neutral face was more stony than normal. “I understand.”

Adrien didn’t say anything, a sudden sense of responsibility dropped on his shoulders. Tikki stopped buzzing.

Sunday, November 4

"It is time.” The heart rang, veins shriveled and dried up, the meadow covered in coagulated blood. The far-off mountain range thundered as they fell apart, the destruction binding the heart withering away. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, the Heart began to descend, falling faster as it accumulated gravity, almost crushing the girl. “Heal me! Reverse what has been done!”

“I can’t!” The girl cried, hands covering her face as the heart collided with the ground, blood splattering on her face, warm and quickly cooling, a hard scab on her skin. “I don’t even know what you are!” 

“I am The Heart! Humanity! I sing your praises! You worship me every time you smile, every time you cry. When you wake up at sunrise and when you fall asleep under the stars! Find me, Chloe!”

Chloe sat up, gasping for breath. Her room was a mess. Marinette had managed to untangle herself from the ceiling, and was asleep on the other half of Chloe’s bed. 

“Duusu?” Chloe whispered. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. She could feel it in her chest. 

“Yes?” Duusu’s head popped out from underneath a pile of test fabric. They seemed… unaware. 

“What are you the Kwami of?” Something about the blue hues of the meadow contrasted against blood fit the Kwami’s colors nicely, dark blue with blood-red eyes.

Duusu hesitated. “Directly translated, it means Heart.” They started. “But I’m sure I mean more than that. I’m… broken. I have been for a long time.”

Chloe knew that. From the very beginning, Marinette told her if she used the Peacock Miraculous, then she would die. Instead of using energy, Duusu would consume life-force. It was what happened to their last master, someone both Marinette and Duusu were hesitant to talk about. 

“From Plagg? Plagg broke you?” 

Duusu nodded. “Why do you ask?”

Chloe prays she isn’t crazy. “I’m having dreams. There’s a big Heart. asking me to find it. Or… or fix it.” 

Duusu’s face doesn’t reveal any emotions.

“Can… I really do that?” 

Duusu drifts forward, large eyes filled with despair. “I’m not all here. A larger part of myself is sewn into the fabric of reality. If my cosmic self believes in you, then I think you can.”

“How do I undo what Plagg did?” 

Duusu slowly blinks. “I’m not too sure. Maybe your dreams can help?”

The blonde looks down at her arms. They’re clean right now. Not covered in blood. “Where’s that book?”

“Hmm?”

“The old book that talks about you guys?” Chloe pulls herself out of her bed, searching for slippers and a robe to wrap herself in. 

“I think Marinette only brought the book.” Duusu follows Chloe around and she starts searching through the mess of Marinette’s stuff. “The translated papers are too easy to lose.”

The blonde nodded absently, pulling the old book out of a random bag. It was wrapped with dark red fabric, probably so it wouldn’t stand out against the rest of the fabric in the bag. “I need to read it.”

Duusu watches Chloe unwrap the book and flip through the pages until she gets to the Peacock section. She couldn’t read the language, like she half-way expected to. But there had to be something in here that would help Duusu. 

Chloe studied the few illustrations inside the pages. A man and a woman wearing Peacock outfits, a study on the Peacock’s weapon (a fan?) and finally, three beautiful renditions of the brooch, all looking slightly different, but unmistakably the Miraculous.

“Where is it?” Chloe turned to look at the kwami, who only frowned.

“You can’t touch it. Just holding it is dangerous.”

Chloe looks around and picks up the fabric that wrapped the old book. “I’ll hold it with this, then. Where is the Brooch?”

Wordlessly, Duusu zipped back to the bag, diving in and displacing all the fabric inside. They pulled out a worn piece of thin white cardboard, brooch attached. It was pure white, five rays of light, not unlike the sunrise happening outside the balcony window. It was too pale and bright for the dark blue Kwami. Chloe grabbed the cardboard, careful not to touch the jewelry.

For all the brooch was light, there was most definitely a dark aura emanating from the metal, something that felt similar to Ange Noir, a faint echo of Fèng. 

“Why can’t Marinette take back the cataclysm?” Chloe wondered. 

“You can’t take back what’s not yours.” Duusu answered. “The magic of the brooch stops the Cataclysm from destroying it, but that just means the power is sitting there, draining the magic inside. So now the Brooch uses the life-force of its user to work… which kills you.”

“So… I need to get rid of the cataclysm inside the brooch?” The girl rests on her knees. “But Marinette can’t take it back, because it isn’t her power.” Chloe blinks. “Can Plagg take the power? It’s his no matter who his user is, right?” 

“Nah, I can’t.” Plagg zips into the room, holding a large slice of cheese. “I’m not built for absorbing destruction, just expelling it.” 

“Well, then, how am I supposed to fix it?” Chloe groaned. “How the hell am I going to find some power that even Marinette couldn’t find?”

“You will.” Duusu’s voice changed, foreboding and… cosmic. Like the heart from Chloe’s dreams. 

Why did he agree to this? Why did he let Alya waste a whole Sunday just… sitting in the park?

“Your article was pretty cool,” Alya repeated. She’s been… upset with Nathaniel. He couldn’t care less, of course. But Alya was just a tiny bit scary. 

“Yours was cool too.” Nathaniel had only skimmed her article, something about Superhero designs? And Paraphrasing what the museum taught about past users. 

“You didn’t tell me about the interview.” Alya shrugged. “Would’ve been nice.” 

“All you had to do was ask him.” Nathaniel said again. Truly, all he did was go up to Mr. Kubdel and ask to interview him. 

Alya scowled. “Whatever. Your article was too opinionated, anyway.”

Nathaniel sighed. Another thing Alya kept bringing up. “I told you, villainizing Ange Noir is a waste of time. Everyone should just see all four of them as heroes and let them fight Monarch. It’s not fair for Beetlebug and Hanuman to go around saying she’s evil, when the actual expert who knows about the Guardian’s original scripture says otherwise.” 

“You’re not supposed to be biased.” Alya huffed. “A good journalist—”

“Then we’re both terrible journalists.” Nathaniel interrupted. 

Alya opened her mouth, ready to argue, when an enormous flock of pigeons covered the sky, hiding the sun. 

“What the…” Nathaniel stood up, looking around for the Akuma. Alya already pulled out her phone, turning on a live stream and babbling about the sky of pigeons. 

Ange Noir arrived first, leaping over buildings, followed by Tigress. Alya started to chase after them, Nathaniel at her heels. He pulled out his phone, opening it to his notes app. 

They ended up heading for the Grand Palais, which was absolutely swarming with birds. Honestly, this Akuma seemed a lot tamer than Rogercop.

Before the journalists could even process what they were seeing, all of the birds flew away, and Nathaniel wasted no time running inside, seeing Ange Noir and Tigress kneeling next to a man in a suit, talking to him. 

“Is everything okay?” Nathaniel called out, startling the girls. 

“Oh! What are you two doing here?” Ange Noir stood up, red butterfly in hand. 

“We saw birds.” Alya grinned. “What was the akuma this time?”

“Please,” Tigress frowned. “Akumas are not entertainment for your blog. If a victim of Monarch wishes to speak to you, let them approach you. Don’t hound them for details that should remain private.”

The entrance of Beetlebug and Hanuman interrupted Alya’s response, whatever it was going to be. Nathaniel wants to go home… but Leaving Alya to her own devices would be irresponsible. 

“Sup Alya!” Hanuman grinned. Nathaniel stared at the floor. God, God it was so hard to pretend that Kim wasn’t right there. The red butterfly left Ange’s hand and started to flutter towards Beetlebug.

“Easy Akuma, then?” Beetlebug caught the butterfly, filling it with golden light, becoming Fèng. He didn’t look at Ange, addressing only Tigress. She nodded, fiddling with her bracelet. 

“We used our powers.” Ange shrugged. “I’m gonna head out. Thank you so much, Tigress.” And with that, Ange used her baton to hop away, quickly hiding in the shadows.

“She’s so smug,” Beetlebug grumbled. 

“Yeah, we tried to get here as fast as we could!” Hanuman complained. Alya quickly turned to the two, asking a bunch of questions. No one noticed Tigress slink away. Except for Nathaniel, who didn’t acknowledge her. He’d run away if he had to deal with Kim and Adrien, too.

“I couldn’t fight a bird-based akuma anyhow.” Beetlebug leaned over towards Hanuman, who put an arm on his shoulder. “I’m allergic to feathers, so I probably would’ve been useless, anyway.” 

“Should you be telling us that?” Nathaniel frowned. Something… is wrong.

“I trust you not to spread that fact.” Beetlebug narrowed his eyes. They’re an unnatural green, magical in a way that hides his identity to everyone. Nathaniel shifts his weight.

“Of course! It’ll be our secret!” Alya pushed on about the heroes. Beetlebug and Nathaniel stared at each other, blue eyes meeting green.

…When did Nathaniel learn Beetlebug’s identity? The realization that the magic simply washed away unnerved the boy. He didn’t see Beetlebug transform, or anything that would suggest that the hero was Adrien Agreste… but it was clear as day, standing in front of him. Kim and Adrien, two of his classmates, chosen to be heroes. 

The feeling of being beckoned rises again. A fountain is running. Water and warmth wash over Nathaniel. Something tugs at his soul.

Maybe he should follow it. 

“Welp! We need to head out.” Hanuman broke the stare, startling Beetlebug by wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “See you guys later!”

“See you!” Alya grinned something awful. She had a thought in her head… Similar to when she was sure Chloe was Tigress. She watched the two heroes run off, dancing in place.

“What are you thinking?” Nathaniel prepares for the worst. 

“I think Hanuman and Beetlebug are dating!” Alya announces, hand raised in a cartoonish manner. Nathaniel could only look at her incredulously.

“... What?”

The sun was setting. Fu didn’t bring Wayzz with him today. This… was going to be a private affair. The Akuma today was gone faster than it appeared, not a threat like the last one, making public places like the Louvre no less busy. 

The old man sat on a bench outside of the exhibit. The exhibit that talked about his life like it was nothing more than a myth. Were there any writings about him? Was there any proof that he existed?

Was anyone aware of his mistakes?

Wang Fu has been sitting on that bench for a long time, stone faced and rigid. Many people have tried to talk to him, asking him if he was all right. Every time, Fu would wave them away, expressing joy at seeing the youth respect history. Or some similar bullshit. 

“You were here yesterday, weren’t you?” A tall man in a dark suit approached. His face was long and gaunt, with narrow eyes. 

“I may have been.” Fu raises an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

The man pondered his question. “My wife was fascinated with anthropology. She discovered records of this temple in a library in Shanghai, and funded the exhibition to find what was left of these Guardians.”

Fu played with the head of his cane. 

“What about you?” The stranger asked. “What draws you to this exhibit?”

Wang Fu is smarter than he used to be. He has never touched alcohol after his mistake. He has avoided bars, avoided telling anyone his secrets, aware of the power his words hold. But perhaps this old man hasn’t really grown. Perhaps this old man was still drunk and angry. 

“I grew up in the temple.” Wang Fu says to the stranger, out in public. The familiar rage and grief swirl together in his heart. “We were raised knowing that one day, we would be able to wield the Miraculous, and bring Humanity to Enlightenment. We were to protect, to guide, to love our brethren within the temple and outside of it, bring peace to the world. But when I was finally old enough to receive my calling, the Masters assigned me a nursery’s teaching assistant. I was deemed not good enough to wield a Miraculous. I ran away.”

Silence followed his words. Fu didn’t mind. His thoughts were full of anger and fire and loneliness. 

“Then the Temple was destroyed?” The stranger guessed. 

Fu nodded. “I always wonder… if I had taken my calling with honor, with my chin up, would that have changed everything?”

The stranger didn’t say anything, letting an old man grieve. Fu shuddered, the November chill getting under his skin, at odds with the warm wrath of his spirit. 

“Well, I’m glad I was able to fund this exhibit, then.” The man stood up, flattening his suit. “It may be a chance for closure, for you. And a chance of a new perspective, for me. But the Louvre is about to close, and I am needed elsewhere.”

“Thank you for listening to me,” Fu called out as the man started to walk away. He didn’t acknowledge the old man’s thanks, but oh well. Wang Fu had enough thoughts running through his head. He pulled a flyer out of his pocket, the one introducing the History of the Miraculous exhibit. Fu opened it up, looking at the small text, the legalities that he ignored at first. Then he found it.

Funded in part by Gabriel Agreste, in honor of Lady Emilie Agreste née Graham de Vanily.

Chapter Text

Thursday November 22, 2012

Part 1: For want of a Nail 

He had a summons. Tikki could not believe it. A summons to meet, NOT his father, but Nathalie? Nathalie was perfectly fine, if not a little emotionless. But she cared for Adrien, Tikki could see that. Adrien left his room, face set in a determined expression that Tikki only ever saw in soldiers of old, heading off to a war they knew they would never come back from. 

Tikki followed behind her chosen, hiding in the shadows where no one could see her. It was difficult, as a bright red Kwami. Plagg was the sneaky one. 

Adrien walked down the confusing halls and arrived at an office. Tikki has spent three months in this mansion, but she still doesn’t know which way is up. Adrien knocks on the doorway, and Nathalie looks up to greet her visitor.

“Adrien. Come, sit down.” The woman gestures to the chair across from her desk, mouth flat but eyes shimmering slightly. Tikki can feel the light coming off of her in waves. 

“Um… hello, Nathalie.” Adrien sat down, picking at a fold in his jeans absent-mindedly. “What do you need?”

“Well, I have some good news for you. From your father.” Nathalie places a formal-looking paper on Adrien’s side of the desk, finally showing a faint smile. Adrien reads over the paper, and Tikki desperately wants to go down and read it herself. 

“What?” Her boy looks up, and Tikki cannot understand his expression. 

“Starting next year, your father has agreed to give the responsibility of organizing and maintaining your schedule to me.” Nathalie smiles, something awful and toothy, uncanny. But her eyes are still shimmering. Is she really smiling? “I am happy to report that I will definitely be limiting the number of photoshoots you partake in. If there are any extracurricular activities you want to stop, continue, or start, I will be open to discussing that with you.”

Adrien didn’t respond. Tikki didn’t know what would even be the proper response.

Friday, December 14, 2012

Part 2: Finding the Edge Pieces

Marinette didn't go out much. She wasn't exactly a homebody, but between Akumas, translating, the Kwami, and her fashion designs, she didn't find lots of time to just… hang out. So Nathaniel’s invite to spend a night celebrating Hanukkah was a surprise, for multiple reasons. 

“Are you sure?” Marinette worried, fiddling with the wrapper of her school lunch. 

“I asked my mom, and she said yes.” Nathaniel smiled. “I know you won't get to celebrate Christmas with your family, so I thought you'd like to be with mine, for a night at least.”

He was bolder, Marinette noticed. Maybe hanging out with Chloe was good for the typically nervous boy. “But, what do I… do?”

Nathaniel chuckled, making Marinette flush with embarrassment. “Nothing. You just have dinner with us, then we light the candles, and then we play games. It's just me, my mom, and my Aunt. You'll be fine."

They walked straight to Nathaniel's house after school, and Marinette kept zoning out, too busy catastrophizing. 

“...But I keep having issues finding a writing style, so I'm thinking of looking for someone who could help me with my comic, but…” Nathaniel kept talking, probably trying his best to distract her. Even Plagg was nipping Marinette's fingers every few minutes, attempting to ground her in his own way.

But what if Marinette trips and falls on the candles and gets burnt, so she has to go to the hospital but she can't drive so Nathaniel's mom would have to take her to the hospital which means the holiday would be ruined and there would probably be wax everywhere and wax is so difficult to clean and what if the whole thing is so awful that Nathaniel.d decided it's not worth it to stay her friend and he starts to shun Marinette and then she would lose her best friend and then—

Plagg bit the meat of her palm, a small pinch he licked over to soothe, his way of saying sorry.

“...I can't pay anyone to help me write, and I hate having to write anything for free, I already do it all the time and it sucks. Plus having to write creatively is so much different than essays or Journaling, I just can't really…”

She won't go to the hospital, it's super unlikely that Nathaniel's family would just leave candles on the floor, or somewhere she could just trip. Marinette would just have to be careful, and avoid hospitals or being super embarrassing and driving away Nathaniel. And going to the hospital would be such a huge ordeal, because then she’d have to call her parents and—

Marinette froze, stopped walking. Nathaniel noticed her and spun around, watching her carefully

“I can't go to the hospital.” Marinette said. 

Nathaniel could only give her a bewildered look. “Excuse me?”

“If I were to get hurt,” Marinette started slowly. “I would have to go to the hospital, and then they'd call my parents, but my parents aren't here, then they'd have to call Mr. Kubdel, but he isn't my legal guardian, so what if he can't help me get medicine or surgery or something and then I die?”

“Mr. Kubdel? Alix's dad?” 

“And I can't ask them to give him permission to take care of me, because then I'll lose my room…” Marinette trailed off. She’d lose the ability to be Ange Noir freely. She'd have to sneak around Alix and Jalil, when he visited. 

“Why would Alix's dad be your guardian?” Nathaniel's head tilted. 

“Oh,” Marinette blinked. “We both work together. He's my guardian sort of while my parents are gone. At least, according to Mendeleiev.”

“You… work with Director Kubdel?” Nathaniel's eyes widened, darting around as he thought of something. “You were translating Tibetan, right? Earlier this year…” 

Marinette was pulled out of her spiral at the sight of her friend diving into his own spiral. But the traces of panic muddled her mind, and she couldn't begin to think about what made Nathaniel freak out.

“Nathaniel?” 

“You helped Director Kubdel with his exhibit?” Nathaniel stared at her. His eyes were too bright, and the wind picked up, carrying the smell of water.

“Yeah?” Marinette gripped the straps of her backpack. 

Nathaniel closed his eyes. “Oh.” He sighed. 

Monday December 17, 2012

Part 3: Secret Society of Dealing with Life's Bullshit

Nathaniel is Marinette’s friend. He hangs around her, talks with her. Alix watches them in the art room, talking and sketching and laughing. 

Alix needs to talk to him.

Or anyone, really. Too many thoughts swirl around her head, smudging her spray paint until it’s all grey and brown. She growls out her frustration, eying Juleka and Rose leaning into each other, looking at sheet music. At Mylene painting and meditating.

God, what Alix would give to be able to meditate.

“Nathan.” Alix calls out, unable to stop her fury in her tone.

The poor boy’s eyes are wide, and he is rightfully terrified. Alix may be one of the shortest in the class, but everyone knows she can rock their shit if she needs to. “Um, yeah?”

“You busy after school?” Alix doesn’t look at Marinette. 

“I’m buying hair dye.” Nathaniel shrugs, putting his pencil down. “Why?”

Alix huffs. “Can I go with?” 

Nathaniel blinks. The two never really spent time together, only being connected through Marinette. But something was telling Alix she needed to talk with him. Something about him just… felt correct? A wild feeling, but damn her if she wasn’t gonna folder her instincts.

“Sure, I guess.” Nathaniel glances at Marinette, but she isn’t paying attention. That girl’s been real spacy lately. Probably something to do with her parents, Alix thinks. 

“Thanks! Maybe I can touch up my roots, too.” Alix grins, turning back to look at her grey mess of a painting. It was tacky, not completely dry. Probably best to just scrape off what she could and paint over it later.

They stood in the store, silent. Alix didn’t know how to bring up her thoughts, and Nathaniel probably had no clue why she was hanging out with him. 

“What brand do you use?” Alix started, tense. “I mean, I didn’t even know you dyed your hair.”

Nathaniel knelt down and grabbed a black and green box. “I use this, but they don’t have unnatural colors. What about you?”

Alix shrugged. “I don’t know. I just grab whatever’s there.” She knew her hair was streaky and faded, showing the bleached strands underneath the pink. Nathaniel winced, probably mourning the loss of her hair, which was in a horrible state. “How do you keep your hair all… like that?” 

He stared at her, blue eyes piercing. Something about Nathaniel was definitely different. “Conditioner.” 

Too busy thinking about what changed in her classmate, Alix was surprised when Nathaniel suddenly pulled her arm near out of its socket, dragging her into a different aisle. 

“Hey! What the hell are you doing!” Alix struggled, looking around.

“Shut up.” Nathaniel frowned, watching someone who was also looking at the hair dye. “I was trying to enjoy myself you—” He started whispering in a different language, something that Alix didn’t even know he could do. 

Alya was loitering, probably grabbing stuff for her own hair. Nathaniel spent a lot of time with Alya. Why would he be so mad now?

The two waited for a couple of minutes, watching Alya chatter about whatever on her phone, someone called Nora.

“That’s her older sister.” Nathaniel explained. “A wrestler, made me arm wrestle her, I don’t know why.”

What is happening? Alix finally sighed as Alya walked away, paying for her hair dye and leaving the small store. Nathaniel started saying shit in random languages again, but now more… like prayers?

“You speak a different language?” Alix asked.

“Hebrew… But I only know the curses.” Nathaniel nodded, and that is just the strangest fact about the boy that Alix can think of. 

“Why were you cursing Alya? Don’t you guys hang out like, all the time now?” Alix followed Nathaniel back to the hair dye, where he grabbed a pink dye from a magenta box and the proper hair care conditioner to go with it. 

“Want to do this at my place?” He deflected, heading up to the cashier to pay for everything. 

“Huh?” 

“C’mon.” Nathaniel simply paid for the dyes and the conditioner and left the store, Alix following behind, oh so confused. “My mom isn’t home yet, but she doesn’t mind friends visiting.”

“Nathan, buddy, I’m asking questions. Don’t ya hear me?” Alix rushed forward, stopping in front of Nathaniel. “How the hell do you know Hebrew curses? Why were you cursing Alya?”

“Alix.” Nathaniel’s face was stony, close to matching his bored-in-class expression. “Not here.” He brushed past her, leaving her with her jaw dropped.

Oh. Secrecy. Is that why her instincts are telling her to follow him? The breeze picked up, bringing along the scent of fresh water, an odd smell to find in Paris. Alix ran after Nathaniel. 

He lived on the fifth floor of a fairly rich apartment, surprising to Alix. She knew his mom worked in the archives of a law firm, but surely that didn’t pay this well?

“Just leave your shoes by the door, please.” Nathaniel said, hanging his coat and backpack by the door. Alix complied, looking around. Bright and airy, walls painted a pale blue. All the furniture was old, well kept, mismatched. The walls were littered with shelves which were full of random trinkets. Looking closer, they all were themed around cows. 

“My aunt collects cows. She grew up on a dairy farm.” Nathaniel explained, guiding Alix to the main bathroom. The cow theme didn’t stop there: black and white, brown cows, hay, barns. The whole shebang. 

“Your aunt? What about your mom?” Alix watched Nathaniel pull out the boxes of hair dye and grab bowls and brushes from the cabinets. Every tool was practically professional. He tossed a large, color-stained shirt at Alix, who quickly put it on over her clothes.

Nathaniel shrugged. “My aunt is my dad’s sister, but after he left, she offered to take me and my mom in. She’s a painter and teaches classes at the Louvre sometimes.” He sits Alix down on the closed toilet lid, mixing up her pink and separating her thick hair into more manageable chunks. 

Alix simply let the fruity chemical smell of the dye wash over her, letting Nathan paint her hair, wrap it in foil. Far, far more professional than Alix’s attempts at home. She just, didn’t really care about how it all looked, but the idea of her classmates’ amazement got her excited. “How did you learn how to do this?” 

The boy hummed. “My aunt and I dyed our hair together, and she wasn’t gonna let me give myself chemical burns. I used to have blue hair for the longest time.”

“I can’t imagine that.” Alix chuckled. 

The rest of the dyeing was silent, Alix thinking and Nathaniel focusing. Alix was stumped. Her old man always told her to follow her instincts, but this strange urge was just… insane. It was nice to hang around someone who wasn’t Kim or Max, but…

Nathaniel finished applying the hair dye, and started his own hair, just a simple root touch-up. 

“What’s up with Alya?” 

Nathan flinched. “Uh… I help her with her blog.”

Alix perked up. “Really?” 

“Yeah. She’s a horrible journalist, and I normally wouldn’t care… but everyone treats the Beetleblog like its gospel, and Alya kept adding to the drama and spreading information that I don’t think should be out there.” 

How has Alix never heard about this? “So, how do you help her?”

Nathaniel sighed. “She somehow convinced me to write the Ryder articles.”

“You?” Alix gasped. “You’re Ryder?” He simply nodded. “That’s why you had all those meditation techniques for Mylène?”

The poor girl had been akumatized last Tuesday during the final few shoots for Nino’s movie. The fear of starring in a movie, and the fear of the fictional monsters Nino had created led her to have a panic attack, and Monarch was a dick and targeted her. But all throughout the shooting, and even after Horrificator’s attack, Nathaniel was by her side, teaching her and Ivan proper calming techniques.

“Alya calls my Akuma Prevention ‘boring shit.’” Nathaniel applied the last of his hair dye. “If Nino wasn’t pressuring Mylène as much, I think the whole thing could’ve been avoided. But Alya spends so much time worrying about the Hero’s drama and their personal lives. Did you know she thinks Hanuman and Beetlebug are secretly dating?”

“What?” Alix snorted. “Why would she think that?” 

“They’re closer friends to each other than Tigress,” Nathaniel answered blandly. “Tigress is close to Ange Noir, and they treat her like a traitor. And that’s not Alya saying that. I’ve seen it with that pigeon akuma.”

Alix frowns, messing with the strings of her cut-offs. “Ange Noir… doesn’t have a teammate, yeah?” 

“I mean, Tigress works with her. But officially, no.” Nathaniel sits at the edge of the bathtub. 

“So, Ange has no one?” 

Nathaniel stares at her. His eyes are questioning, but Alix doesn’t want to answer. 

“Maybe in her civilian life?” Nathaniel questions. He knows what he means.

“...I want to try,” Alix whispers. “I want to try to be there for her.” 

Nathaniel nods slowly, thinking over the confession. “Ange is the only one I don’t know.”

“Huh?”

“I can see through the masks.” Nathan’s shoulders slump forward, as if an immense weight settled over him. “I don’t know why. But I saw Hanuman transform during Rogercop, and then I just *knew* who Beetlebug and Tigress were. And I have… an idea of who Ange Noir is. But I’m afraid to confirm my theory.”

“I overheard someone.” Alix chews on her lips. “I didn’t want to, but my instincts said I should.”

“Do you follow your instincts often?” God, his eyes are unnervingly blue. He’s peeling away Alix’s layers, her masks. Seeing her soul, her blood. What the fuck was up with him?

“Instinct said I should talk to you.” Alix looks away, staring at the tile floor. “And now I know you know more than others, huh?”

Nathaniel shrugs. “I’m used to it. I don’t care what fate says, I’m going to be a normal teenager.”

Alix huffs. What a weirdo. But at least she doesn’t have to go through these secrets alone.

Saturday December 22, 2012

Part Four: Stepping Stones to Raising a Phoenix 

She needs to find Tikki. It’s easier said than done, since who knows where the hell Beetlebug is hiding, or who he could be out of the mask. But dammit, Chloe is going to try. It’s a risky plan, something that Chloe prays will work. 

She’s buttoning up a thick jacket, a heavy Gabriel brand double-breasted coat that paired wonderfully with her scarf. It hid her figure, and the scarf could block her face, which made Chloe feel better about going out and trying to find Beetlebug’s Kwami. 

Someone knocked on her door. “Come in!” Chloe answered, lacing up some nice, heeled boots. God, why doesn’t she wear these boots more?

“It’s me, Mademoiselle.” Her butler held a large, sparkly gold envelope. “High Priority mail from your mother.” He held out the envelope. Chloe wants to burn it. 

“Thanks.” She takes it, gripping it far harder than necessary. The butler bows and takes his leave. Chloe opens the letter and pulls out the folded paper. It’s pale and fancy. 

"From the desk of Audrey Bourgeois.

Dear Casey,

We at Style Queen Fashion wish you a glamorous holiday season, and a fabulous New Year.”

It was typed out with a loopy font, nothing about the paper was ever touched by human hands. The most heart this letter ever received was from the mail people who handled it. Chloe kneels down and pulls a shoebox out from underneath her bed, dropping the letter amongst other letters of bland and generic season greetings and happy birthdays all labeled for Cassandra or Kyle or Clarisse. But never Chloe.

Whatever. That American bitch isn’t worth her time. Chloe shoves the box away and focuses on the mission given to her by a God.

Marinette’s walls are pale pink, but her furniture is black and green. Plagg’s awful influence, no doubt. 

“Duusu?” Chloe calls. The kwami flies out of a dollhouse, brooch in hand. 

“I’m ready, Chloe.” Duusu grins.

“Okay.” Chloe carefully takes the cardboard and puts it in a pocket. “Are you able to find Tikki?” 

“I should be able to. If I can’t, we can always kidnap Plagg!” Duusu chuckles, settling in Chloe’s scarf. 

If Chloe from last Christmas could see her now, all considerate and gay. Ridiculous, Utterly Ridiculous!

Duusu led her to the Film Festival, of course. Beetlebug isn’t that much older than Marinette, if at all. It would make sense that he would visit a youth-focused event like this one. Chloe paid no mind to all the other people, all the treats and whatnot. Duusu gently pulled at her scarf, guiding her through the crowd.

“Excuse me, pardon me,” Chloe mumbled whenever she bumped into someone’s shoulder. Her classmates were around, and Chloe had to wave to a few, but luckily no one tried to talk to her. 

“I think I feel her!” Duusu whispers in her ears. “Stay here.” They fly away, zipping around a crowd of ankles, and Chloe almost wanted to follow, wanted to find out who Beetlebug was and throttle him. But oh well. 

A few moments later, a blue blur came back, followed by a red blue. Holy shit, this actually worked? They both hid under her scarf. 

“I’m gonna go somewhere private.” Chloe explained, looking for a nearby alley or something. Nasty, disgusting alleys. But the shit she does for love. It takes a while before Chloe is far enough away from the film festival crowd, and she slips into the shadows, something wholly unlike her. “Alright, you can come out now.”

Duusu and Tikki leave the safety of her scarf, staring at the mayor’s daughter. She was bright red, although more pink than Duusu’s blood red. She had three large black spots on her forehead and her cheeks, with long, whisper antennae and burning gold eyes.

“Why do you have Duusu?” Tikki’s voice pitched similarly to Duusu’s, if not a bit higher. 

“Uh, hi.” Chloe waved her hand awkwardly, so unsure of how to talk to a god she should know nothing about. “I’m Chloe.”

“I know who you are.” Tikki’s face is stony, her voice flat. “Why do you have Duusu?”

“Someone gave Duusu to my friend,” Chloe answered. “But their brooch is broken. I need your help to fix it.”

Tikki glared. “How am I supposed to help?”

“Okay, well. I have an idea, but I’m not too sure if it’s possible.” Chloe pulled the brooch out of her pocket. 

“Let’s hear it.” Tikki droned.

She’s… really rude, huh? Chloe thought.

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Part Five: Absolute Power

The observatory was bathed in shadows. It was structured that way, in order to breed the butterflies Emilie loved so much. A spindly wraith pulled a switch, opening one of the shades, letting the light of the moon in. The monarchs fluttered about, the pale white light magnifying the silvery insects. Bǎohù Monarchs are fickle things, preferring the dark whilst in their larva and pupa stages, but once they grow wings, they prefer the light of the moon. The sun hurts them, heating them up too quickly. It’s what made these precious things so endangered.

When Gabriel learned they could transfer magic, though? He grew them, made sure they thrived in his home, provided them with everything they could ever need. 

…

…His plans aren’t working. It was a learning curve, akuma’s. How to make them, control them, guide them. He threw out a couple of random ones, mostly just to see what would happen. Monarch may be a villain, but Gabriel was a smart man. A family man. 

And for the sake of his family, Gabriel needs to try harder. Ange Noir knows where his wife is, he is sure of it. But… going after *only* her feels useless. After meeting that old man at the Louvre, heading about enlightenment, seeing the one Tapestry he bought off of Monsieur Kubdel…

The tapestry was hung on a wall of the observatory. Gabriel could not read the languages embroidered into the fabric, but he knew the translations anyway.

In times of great need, the most worthy of masters claimed they could cast a wish with Home and Passion. They could change the water of time until it poured into the ocean of Enlightenment.

The Ladybug Earrings. The Beast Ring. If Gabriel could get both of them, he’d be able to bring Emilie back. Playtime was over. Every Akuma from now on will be ruthless, ready to get those jewels, no matter the cost.

Gabriel had decided to devote himself to this quest, this noble purpose. He will shift the sands of time, divert the river of space, and bring back the love of his life.

Monday, December 31st, 2012

Part Six: Unlucky Number.

Adrien has never been invited to a party, much less a class-wide New Year’s Eve party being held in a small spare ballroom of Chloe’s hotel. Fancy, but also relaxed. Adrien could only compare it to the stuffy events he was forced to go to, being Gabriel Agreste’s representative. But instead of waiting staff there were snack tables, instead of a sleepy orchestra there was a DJ, and a karaoke set up. Many people seem to have brought a friend or a sibling, given the amount of the crowd that seemed to come from Ms. Mendeleiev’s class. 

“Wassup dude!” Nino was grinning, standing near the DJ and talking with the guy. He turned to wave to Adrien. 

“Hi!” The music pumped in his blood and made his bones shake. It started to twinge his knee. Thankfully, Nino hadn’t expected Adrien to stay right next to the speakers, resuming his conversation with the DJ. Adrien took the chance to leave, heading for a snack table farthest from the speakers. He was greeted by various class members, either dancing or eating or conversing. God, this is so unbearable. And awkward.

“Hi,” a quiet voice caught his attention. Adrien looked to see Juleka with her hair up into a bun… something really, uh, different.

“I like your hair!” Adrien said routinely, almost. It’s hard to shake the formal training. 

“Thank you.” Juleka stepped closer so he could hear her. “Have you seen my brother anywhere?”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you had a brother?” 

Juleka nods, smiling. “Yeah, Luka. He’s my twin, but he’s homeschooled. If you see a boy with blue hair and a bunch of piercings, tell him I’m going to go home with Rose.”

“Can do.” Adrien promised. *Why would Juleka go home with Rose? I guess they’re friendly, but that seems like a weird thing for friends to do. Maybe it’s a girl thing?*

“Hey bro!” Kim approached him, taking the empty spot that Juleka left behind. Kim is loud and boisterous and his grin is too wide and he’s Hanuman. Kim seemed to notice something with Adrien, though, because his smile fell away, and he looked concerned. “Are you good?” 

Adrien pursed his lips, but waved it off. “I’m fine.”

Kim shook his head. “No, you’re not. Come with me.” Kim put a hand on Adrien’s shoulder, guiding him along. Away from the crowd, the music, into a nearby hallway. The sound was muffled once the door was closed. Adrien internally sighed with relief. 

“Thank you.” Adrien whispered, leaning against the wall and sliding down to the floor. The carpet was red, with a paler swirling design, like vines. The walls are cream with golden accents, gaudy and horrible in the best way, not a speck of the sterile white that haunted his home. 

“No problem, man.” Kim’s voice was quieter than Adrien had ever heard it. No yelling, challenging, boasting. Soft. Weird. “Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

“The noise.” Adrien decides to be rebellious and chews on his left thumb’s fingernail. A horrid habit. One he relishes in. “The people. My leg.”

“Your leg?” 

“Mhm.” Adrien harshly massages around his kneecap and behind his knees, and the shins connected. “It burns, or aches sometimes. Like after really long photoshoots or right before it snows.”

Kim nodded slowly. “That sucks. Do you know why?” 

“Nope.” Adrien rests his head against the wall.

Footsteps approached, harsh and purposeful. Adrin and Kim turned to see—

Holy shit.

Tall, taller than Juleka, shaggy blue hair, with multiple silver piercings going through his lips, nose, eyebrows, ears. His eyes are blue, burning with something that Adrien can feel, a soft warmth flooding his chest. This is Luka? 

Holy shit, he’s so hot. Adrien’s unhelpful mind shouts, startling him out of his daze. 

“Have you seen Juleka?” His voice is shockingly soft, gentle like his sisters. 

“No.” Kim answered. And also, he didn’t seem as absolutely phased by Luka like Adrien was. That’s so unfair!

“Uh, she told me she was going home with Rose?” Adrien managed to not stammer. That formal training was good for something!

Luka scoffed. “Thanks.” Then he swaggered–Literally swaggered–away.

The moment Luka was out of sight, Kim burst into laughter, startling Adrien. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it!” He hunched over, shoulders shaking.

“What?” Adrien scowled, just knowing that somehow Kim was laughing at him.

“Y-your face!” Kim gasped. “It’s so red, dude!”

Adrien’s hands jumped to his cheeks, burning underneath his cold fingertips. “Why is that funny?” He demanded.

Kim calmed a bit. A tiny, miniscule bit. “‘Cause you have a fat gay crush on the most emo guy I’ve ever seen! Who knew Mr. Perfect liked Bad Boys like that?”

Any blood in his face quickly drained away. “What? No! I can’t — You’re wrong!” 

Kim finally sat up straight, smiling. “No, you took one look at him and your face exploded. That’s gay, dude.”

Adrien shook his head. “I’m not gay! Father wouldn’t—” He stopped, stricken. 

Is… Is he gay?

Kim lost his smile, a deep sadness in his dark eyes. “Oh.” He whispered. 

“Am I?” Adrien desperately stared at Kim. “How, how do I know?”

It took a long, silent moment for Kim to answer. 

“Name the hottest girl you know. Classmate, or celebrity, anyone.”

It took Adrien a stupidly long time to come up with a passable celebrity. “Bethany Jillian.”

“The punk girl from that Nickelodeon show?” Kim fought another smile. “Either you’re gay, or you like punks, dude.”

Adrien groaned. 

“Would you wanna kiss her?” Kim prompted. After another moment of nothing, Adrien slowly shook his head. 

“That’s too weird… maybe it’s weird because she’s a celebrity?” Adrien mentally went through every girl he knew, every model and designer and classmate. None of them stood out, none of them were as… attractive and Luka. 

“Why don’t you kiss me?” came the *WILD* suggestion from Kim.

Adrien shrieked. “What? No! Why would you say that?” He was forced to imagine it, and the scenario made his stomach turn in a really different way. 

That jerk only shrugged. “Max kissed me once, when he was having a gay crisis. He said it helped. And this other girl I go to swim class with, I kissed her, and she found out she was a lesbian. It’s not weird if you don’t make it weird. Plus, I get to brag I kissed the Adrien Agreste!”

“You can’t tell anyone!” Adrien raises his hands, so tense and scared.

The fear caught Kim’s attention, and the jovial attitude melted away. “I wouldn’t, if you wanted me to.” His assurance made Adrien’s throat close up. A lump, heavy and wanting, blocking his voice.

Adrien took a deep inhale, holding it for a few seconds, and exhaling slowly. “Okay. I… I want to try.” 

Kim smiled and scooted closer, turning his whole body towards Adrien. “Close your eyes.” 

Adrien did and waited. Lips pressed against his own, warm and gentle. The contact felt different, and it made Adrien’s stomach turn again.

Is that what they mean by butterflies in your stomach?

Kim pulled away, and Adrien opened his eyes, looking up at him. His face is close, noses almost touching. The flush is back, and Adrien knows he’s as red as Beetlebug’s suit.

“...A-again?” He breathed. 

Kim puts his hands on Adrien, large hands spread wide, touching his neck, near to his ears. Guiding Adrien back to his mouth. Pressing him close, pressing harder than before. He starts moving his lips, and Adrien could only gasp. This… this wasn’t weird. Not like the fake scenarios before. This… 

Tuesday, January 1st, 2013.

Kim pulls back, farther away now. His cheeks are pinker than before, but otherwise he seems normal. Adrien shudders a deep breath. 

“Holy shit I’m gay.” He announces. 

“And I won’t tell anyone.” Kim promises. The two boys lean against the wall, quiet. “I’m going to go back inside. You’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah. I don’t think I’m cut out for parties.” Adrien stretched his leg. “I’m gonna go home. Thank you, for helping me.” 

“No problem man, let me know how it goes.” 

Kim pushes himself to his feet and walks back into the ballroom. Adrien sighs and gets up himself, ignoring the pain and heading towards the exit. He passes Nathaniel and Alix, who are watching something on the artist’s phone, and don’t acknowledge the model at all. Adrien exits the hallway and enters the main lobby. He pulls out his phone to call Nathalie, but a hiss stops him.

Adrien’s head snaps up, right into the eyes of Fu. 

“Come with me.” He orders, leading Adrien down what must be a staff hallway, with plain white walls and concrete floor. Ugly, abandoned, liminal. Not a place to stay, but a place to go through. 

“What’s wrong?” Adrien, for a wild moment, is scared of Fu knowing he kissed Hanuman. Maybe romance, or anything similar to it, is frowned upon as a hero, like a Jedi. 

“I am going to take Tigress’s miraculous away.” Fu said, hands on his cane, looking stern and so… ancient. “She is too friendly with Ange Noir, she’s a risk.”

Adrien’s jaw dropped, and he went through every Akuma the three have gone up against. 

“I am going to replace her with a fox this time.” Fu continued. “The Fox is the Miraculous of Water, it adapts to new circumstances, it casts Illusions and Masks, a better way to fight both Monarch and Ange Noir, and keep Paris safe. I wanted to let you know beforehand, and you can explain this to Hanuman if you so choose. Of course, don’t tell Tigress.”

Adrien didn’t… like this idea. Taking away a Miraculous, because the user was friendly? Tigress had been very helpful with every Akuma so far… But she was too close to Ange to let Adrien be comfortable just letting her go. Ange was manipulative, and it would be best for the Heroes to not be corrupted by her dark influence. 

“Okay.” Adrien nods, resolute. “Thank you for telling me, Master Fu.”

Chapter Text

Trixx isn’t a god in the normal sense. At least, it didn’t have the attitude of one. While every other Kwami was proud to find a mainstay on the mortal plane to cleave their image upon, it was only a few centuries ago that it decided Foxes were a good enough image. The original guardians had labeled Trixx as ‘more trouble than it’s worth’. 

Because of this… Trixx was very surprised to hear that it would be out on the battlefield soon, according to Wayzz. A rebellious trickster god like it? A tool for the old man? No. And even though Mullo very quickly told it off, Trixx could only laugh. 

Innovation had no dominion over Emotion.

And that old fool has no dominion over Trixx.

Tu esday, January 22, 2013

It’s been more than a month since the last akuma. Every time there was a sizeable gap between attacks like this, Beetlebug and his crew meet up to practice their powers and fighting skills. 

They were… okay. Adrien’s fencing didn’t translate too well to a yo-yo, and while Hanuman was athletic, he didn’t seem to have any sort of fighting prowess. Tigress was lucky to be more of a behind-the-scenes hero, since she claimed to not even be all that active.

Beetlebug thought they had a productive evening, if not a little awkward. He and Hanuman worked with coordination, attacking in tandem and defending each other’s blind spots, leaving Tigress behind. Beetlebug had a reason for it, but it was clear that Tigress was tense and unsure. 

It was nearing midnight when Tigress announced she was leaving, looking hurt and so off-center. The boys gave their farewells, not planning on staying much longer, but Hanuman seemed antsy, and Beetlebug wanted to make sure he was okay.

(That kiss did not affect him. That kiss did not change anything.)

“Hey, is something up?” Hanuman frowned, eyeing the faraway silhouette of Tigress. 

Beetlebug sighed. “I need to tell you something, and you cannot tell Tigress about it.”

Hanuman eyed him critically. “What?”

(That kiss does not change anything.)

“The Guardian is going to take Tigress’s Miraculous away.” Beetlebug fiddled with his yo-yo. “And he’s going to replace her with a different hero.”

They were both silent for a moment. It’s still cold, but their suits kept the slicing weather at bay. Hanuman turned away.

“Huh.”

Beetlebug flinched. “What does that mean?” He stepped around Hanuman, entering his line of sight. “The Guardian doesn’t trust her. He’s just making sure we’re the best team we can be.”

“No, I get that.” Hanuman blinked. “But it’s gonna be a lot of work for us, publicly. We’re gonna have to have an interview with Alya, probably, and maybe other news sources too, so Paris understands, and then there’s the issue of making sure we vibe with the new Tiger—”

“Fox.” Beetlebug interjected and cleared his throat. “The new hero will use the Fox Miraculous.”

Hanuman raised an eyebrow. “How many Miraculous are there?”

“Um.” Beetlebug frowns. “I don’t actually know. There are the Zodiac ones, which you and Tigress have, then there’s Element-based Miraculous, which is the Fox and the Peacock one you’ve met, plus who knows how many others, then there’s Mine.” Beetlebug shrugs. 

“That’s… a lot.” Hanuman scratches the nape of his neck. “Why doesn’t that guardian guy just give us more teammates so we can just… win all the time?”

“He doesn’t want Ange Noir or Monarch to get any more Miraculous.” Beetlebug explained. 

“So, why is he changing them out?” Hanuman sits down, eyes never leaving Beetlebug’s. “Doesn’t that just let them know that there’s more Miraculous to go after?”

Huh. That’s a valid concern. Beetlebug takes a seat beside his teammate. “I think us being here already gave it away. They’ve always been kept together.”

Hanuman looked away, head slowly bobbing back and forth. “I guess.” Was all he said, which Beetlebug couldn’t even begin to decipher.

The two sat there, admiring the skyline.

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Ms. Bustier planned a field trip for her class. Her students were to be put in randomly selected teams and do reports on four different animals at the zoo. Why Ms. Bustier wanted them to go to the zoo during January was beyond Juleka, but whatever. She had been partnered with Nino, who wasn’t too bad of a partner. Of course, her first choice would’ve been Rose, but that was less for her academic performance and more because Juleka was just really, really gay.

“What animals will we see?” Roarr asked, head poking out of Juleka’s black handbag shaped like a coffin, a Christmas gift from Rose. Juleka was walking to the zoo, her houseboat luckily not too far from it today. 

“I dunno.” Juleka shrugged. “Ms. Bustier didn’t give us a list.” 

“Can we see the tigers?” xe pleaded, making Juleka chuckle.

“Yes, we can see the tigers.” Juleka smiled. It was a nice day, sunny and cloudless. There was no wind, and it wasn’t that cold, all things considered. A familiar jingle played to her right, faint and really, really recognizable.

“C’mon! He’s this way!” Two young adults ran past Juleka, heading for wherever the jingle was coming from. Curious, Juleka followed them, and was greeted by a fairly short line for the one and only André, the Sweethearts Ice Cream guy.

“Holy shit.” Juleka whispered, immediately pulling out her phone, opening her chat app.

“What is it?” Roarr asked. Juleka sent her text to Rose and got in line. André was serving up ice cream cones faster than one guy probably should be able to. 

“Andre’s Ice Cream is like, super magical.” Juleka’s phone buzzed, Rose must have responded. “It’s supposed to tell you who your soulmate is, or tie couples together. André makes his cart hard to find, and normally you have to stalk his Instagram page to find him. It’s super lucky I ran into him.”

“Magical Ice Cream?” Roarr questioned, surprisingly serious for a ridiculous marketing scheme like soulmate ice cream. “Have you had some before?”

Juleka responded to Rose’s text, then put the phone to her ear, pretending to be on a call. “Yeah, it was super rad. Me and Rose got matching cones.”

“I wonder why this André guy is magical?” xe hummed.

“It’s not really magic, though.” Juleka said, stepping closer to the cart. “It’s just a gimmick to sell more ice cream.”

“No…” Roarr shook xes head. “I can feel it. He really is magical, at least a little bit.”

But before Juleka could understand what in that world that meant, she was the next customer, and quickly shoved her phone back into her bag.

“Ah! I remember you, Mademoiselle!” André’s voice was sing-songy, and he made loud and wide gestures with his hands. “But where is your young love, I ask?”

“We have a school project later.” Juleka responded. “Can I get ice cream for her, too?”

“But of course! My ice cream should be enjoyed by all!” André spun around and started scooping. “Black Cherry, Dark Chocolate, and Ube, for her truest love!” He handed Juleka the cone for Rose, a rich blend that represented Juleka.

But then André paused, his boisterous personality muting itself.

“My dear, it seems that today, you do not need my sweetheart ice cream.” 

“What?” Juleka’s shoulders spiked up.

“Today, you need something far stronger than love.” André started to scoop something bright, violent red.

“For your luck.”

He scooped a familiar purple flavor next.

“For the journey.”

And finally, a truly black ice cream on top.

“For your sake.”

Juleka took the strange new combination. “What are these?” She questioned, forcing her voice to stay steady.

André sighed. “Charred Coconut, Ube, and Tigers Blood.”

Juleka stared at the bright red ice cream. “For my luck?” 

“Mademoiselle,” André was solemn. “I cannot understand why these flavors called out to me, but when I hear a call, I respond.”

Juleka stepped away, not noticing the lack of customers, the emptiness of the streets. She continued on her way to the zoo, staring at her ice cream. The streets were so empty. She paused a block away from the entrance of the zoo, next to a trash can.

“Roarr, you said he was really magic?” Her voice was hoarse.

“Yes… there are people with access to magic everywhere.” Roarr seemed hesitant to answer. “But… I’m sure you will be okay. I am here, after all.” xe flew up and pressed xemself against Juleka’s cheek.

“Okay.” Juleka took a deep breath.

And threw her cone away.

The class was lined up in two rows, partners paired together. Nathaniel waited for Ms. Bustier to hand out the lists of animals she wanted everyone to look at, standing next to Alix.

“Shame.” Alix sighed, chewing on some bubble gum. She had offered some to Nathaniel, but he declined. “Maybe we can switch partners?”

“No.” Nathaniel shook his head. “Chloe hates Alya almost as much as I do.”

“Right.” Alix nodded. “Chloe’s friends with Marinette.”

He could only glance around at his classmates, but no one was paying them any mind. Chloe was up ahead, talking with Sabrina, who had been partnered with Mylène. Alya was standing next to Max, talking to him about her blog. Max was partnered with Kim, who simply listened in to whatever the heck Alya was going on about (Nathaniel noticed she had issues not going off on tangents). Something she said was making his face grow red.

“Dang it Alya!” Nathaniel muttered, striding forward to intervene, and sure enough, Alya was going on about her Beetlebug and Hanuman ship. (She called it Hanubug. A ship name for his classmates, what has Nathaniel’s life become?)

“Kim!” Nathaniel called out, hoping to help him. Kim did look extremely relieved, and broke away from Alya and Max. 

“Hey man!” Kim approached, not caring that Nathaniel wasn’t someone he normally talked to. “What’s up?”

“What animals are you excited to see?” Nathaniel asked the first question that came to mind. 

Kim grinned. “There’s a new panther that moved here a few days ago.”

“That’s cool.” Why did Nathaniel think talking to Kim was a good idea? Once again, they didn’t ever hang out around each other, especially since Nathaniel discovered Kim was Hanuman. 

Thankfully, he was saved by Ms. Bustier calling out partners and their assignments, handing out a paper, clipboard, and pencils. Chloe and Nathaniel. Alya and Alix. Max and Kim. Mylène and Sabrina. Juleka and Nino. Rose, Adrien, and Ivan.

Chloe approached Nathaniel. “We’ve got hyenas, zebras, penguins, and peacocks.” She reported, handing him the clipboard. 

“That’s strange.” Nathaniel looked over the list, and the example questions on the bottom half of the page. 

“What?” Chloe flinched, suddenly looking very worried for a reason that Nathaniel didn’t know, but he just… he just *knew* had to do with a miraculous. 

This is so annoying! What Miraculous could Chloe even be in contact with, other than Ange’s?

“I completely forgot penguins were a thing.” Nathaniel shrugged, planning to just try to ignore his Miraculous-sense. 

Maybe he should try to research what’s going on with him?

“Hey, we got Hyena’s too.” Alix looked over his shoulder, reading his assignments. Alya was behind her, avoiding Chloe’s glare. 

“We also have lions, vultures, and ostriches.” Alya added, holding her own clipboard. 

“Lots of birds.” Nathaniel commented, pulling away from Alix. “We can start with the Hyenas together, then break off when we need to.”

“Sounds wonderful, Nathan.” Chloe gave him a clenched grin. She, uh, really hates Alya, huh?

Nino and Juleka stood next to Rose and her group, comparing assignments.

“We both have tigers.” Nino says, arm around Adrien’s shoulder. Thank God Nino is insistent on staying by Adrien’s side, because Juleka is not in the mental space to handle walking around a crowded zoo. She pushed the ice cream out of her mind and instead chose to focus on something else Roarr mentioned:

"There are people with access to magic everywhere.”

Does that mean there are countless people around here, at the zoo, with magic? Do they know? How would you even tell? If a simple ice cream vendor can harness magic, who’s to say Nino isn’t magical? Or Luka, or… anyone? What exactly lets someone be magical? Why? Juleka was given a miraculous, a magical artifact, but she herself isn’t magical. At least, Roarr hasn’t said anything to suggest she is. These questions spiraled until Juleka wasn’t aware of her surroundings, fidgeting with the clasp of her bracelet, gently bouncing her head, staring at the cobbled pavement.

“Juleka?” A hand on her elbow. Juleka simply turns her head, meeting bright… violently bright blue eyes. 

“Huh?” she asks. Magically bright?

“Your group left you.” Nathaniel looked around, breaking whatever spell Juleka was under. The noise of the crowd flooded her ears, the sun on her skin became warm, the smell of fresh water pierced through the smell of the zoo. Juleka searched the area, but she couldn’t see her group anywhere, which, when it included Ivan, was surprising. “What assignments do you have? Maybe we could find your group?”

Juleka didn’t even look at the clipboard, Nino was holding it, and assignments weren’t exactly top priority right now. “Tigers was one. I don’t remember the rest.”

Nathaniel choked and started coughing, face turning red. “Of course,” He rasped, struggling to catch his breath.

Of course? What does he mean, of course? Juleka stared at him. Alix, Alya, and Chloe noticed her and approached. 

“Hey, don’t think that dying will get you out of homework!” Chloe snarked, arms crossed. “I will bring you back and make you do the whole assignment!” Nathaniel was already mostly recovered, but he only shot her a glare before turning to talk with Alix.

“She’s assigned to tigers.” He told her. “Are they close to any of our assignments?”

“They’re close to the lions.” Alya intervened, holding a map of the zoo. “We’ll go there then.” 

Juleka blinked, and she couldn’t hear anything. The scent of water was strong, pulling her gaze from Alya to Nathaniel, who wasn’t looking at her, talking instead with the other girls. Something tugged in her gut, underneath her ribcage. Instinct, the ones that told her to avoid people like they were the plague, the ones that always seemed to know where Rose was whenever she’s at the boat. 

Somehow, somehow. "Of course.”

“Bathroom.” She forced out, turning away and running off, not towards the restrooms, but just… away from the blue eyes and freshwater tang. No one spared her a glance; she’s invisible even outside of her uniform. 

"Of course.”

“Nathaniel is magic.” She tells Roaar. A jungle display surrounds Juleka, and no one is around. A glass exhibit is up ahead, but it seems there’s either no animal there, or Juleka was simply lucky to find an area where no one could see her deteriorate. “Nathaniel is magical, and he knows I’m Tigress.” 

Roarr zips up to her face, concerned. “I don’t know about that last part.” xe sat on her shoulder. “But yes, he’s even stronger than that André guy. Nathaniel’s magic is specifically tuned towards the Miraculous, but I couldn’t tell you what it does or how he uses it.” 

Juleka’s skin prickles. Could Nathaniel be one of her teammates? Maybe Beetlebug, since Beetlebug is supposed to be the leader, and if Juleka was picking out the leader of a Miraculous team, she’d definitely choose someone inherently attuned to that type of magic. Sure, Beetlebug was blond, and his eyes were green, but Tigress’s eyes were yellow, her sclera was colored and her pupils slitted. Beetlebug might seem taller, but Juleka was willing to bet the height difference was simply just a confidence difference. Tigress definitely felt taller than Juleka, even though she and Luka had checked, and she was still the same height in both forms. 

Beetlebug yelled at Ange Noir.

Months ago, after Stoneheart. Beetlebug’s eyes burned with anger, and he tried to forcefully take Ange’s ring from her finger, keeping an iron grip on her wrist, not letting her go. It was only the white akuma turning into Fèng that distracted him.

Nathaniel wouldn’t do that. 

He isn’t Beetlebug. And most definitely not Hanuman, who didn’t match a single characteristic of Nathaniel’s, physically or personality-wise. 

“I wonder what—”

“AKUMA!” someone screamed, bumping into Juleka and running away from the glass exhibit. It was Max.

“Roarr, stripes on!” 

Adrien ran into Kim and Max at the Okapi exhibit, Kim reading out the informational signs and Max copying down what he says, inputting his own fun facts here or there.

“Hey guys!” Rose ran ahead, quickly jotting enough information to consider the assignment “done”. It’s what she did with the hippopotamus and rhinoceros. Adrien wasn’t too sure why she was rushing through, but it let him just admire the animals, so he didn’t stop her.

“Hello.” Max smiled, moving to read over the signs himself. Kim didn’t seem to mind the double-checking, even though Adrien would have been a little frustrated if Max did that to him. Another reason Kim is so great.

“They’re very interesting.” Ivan looked at the Okapi. “Like a gazelle-zebra hybrid.”

“They’re actually related to giraffes more so than zebras.” Max explained. “But they do look like zebras.” 

“They also have anteater faces.” Kim announced, and looking back at the group only to find four blank stares. “What?”

“...Do you know what an anteater looks like?” Rose asks delicately. “Because they look nothing like Okapi.”

“They have giraffe heads!” Max huffs, holding out his phone, opening to a picture of a giraffe. Adrien compared it to the Okapi in front of them, and they were almost an exact match.

Kim could only shrug. “I thought it looked like an anteater.” 

Ivan ignored him and took the assignment paper from Rose. “We have Tigers now. Then we can just walk around the zoo until three.”

“We have gorillas and lemurs left.” Max hums. “Could we walk around the zoo together?” 

“I don’t mind?” Ivan looks at Rose, who shrugs, and Adrien, who is so excited in a friendly platonic way. 

“Sure.” Adrien glances at Kim. Very platonic. They’re just dudes who are friends. Guys being pals. Bros. Completely normal, and there isn’t any difference in his heart rate, it’s completely regular, never been slower. 

God, he’s such a fucking loser. 

Marinette had school today. Her class field trip was next week, at the Hôtel de ville, shadowing various employees. It’s not something Marinette was too excited about, but oh well. 

Class 201B being out meant that Marinette didn’t have Nathaniel or Chloe around for lunch, which sucked. She wasn’t too close to anyone in her own classroom, having been a bit preoccupied with Chloe and Ange Noir.

Chloe was sending her texts every couple of minutes, talking about whatever she and Nathaniel were up to.

Chloe: for some reason cesaire and the skater girl are hanging out with us

Chloe: vultures are so ugly why the hell would anyone pay to see them

Chloe: penguins are cute, i guess

Chloe: not as cool as the lions or peacocks, but whatever

The texts filled Marinette with both FOMO and made her relax a bit, glad that Chloe was thinking of her. The loneliness threw off the vibes of today. Something was out of order, something was unsure. Plagg agreed with her, form fizzling more than normal.

Her phone buzzed. Another text from Chloe.

Chloe: tell plagg this is him

Attached was a picture of a large black cat, a black panther. Marinette chuckled and angled her phone toward her bag, where Plagg hid. “Look.”

Plagg’s green eyes stared at the panther. “You know I’m not a cat, right?” His voice was strange. Tense, like all the times he dared speak about his past.

“Really?” Marinette was careful to watch her tone. Plagg not being a cat wasn’t an issue for her, he was a kwami after all, but it was rare that Plagg spoke about himself, and she didn’t want to scare him off. 

“The other kwamis find something that represents them, and over time their bodies take the shape of that something,” Plagg explained, voice quiet. “I… was worried about other stuff.” 

Marinette smiled. “That’s okay. I thought you were a cat because of your tail and the things on your head.”

“What?” Plagg’s form shifted, as if he was touching his head, searching for the ears. 

“Yeah, these.” Marinette reached out and gently tapped the two bumps. She’s never actually felt them before, since Plagg wasn’t really one for contact like that. But now that she was, Marinette realized the bumps were made of a completely different material from Plagg’s limbs. His body normally was soft, like velvet, but these were hard and jagged. 

“Horns?” Marinette murmured, idly feeling around. Small, like a baby deer’s antlers, just growing in. Little Marinette had been wary of touching Plagg, letting him initiate all of their contact. Plagg right now wasn’t moving, but his flames seemed relaxed. They weren’t flickering. “Why does Ange Noir have cat ears, if you have horns?”

Plagg hummed, and Marinette moved her hand. “It’s what you thought of when you were ten. You thought I was a cat, and since I don’t have a clear image, I can morph to be whatever you wanted to be. That’s partially why the Order only calls me Beast. No past owner of mine looked the same.”

“Interesting.” Marinette sipped her juice. “Why do the Kwami’s need to be a specific animal? What makes Tikki a Ladybug, when she could have been a spider or something?”

“Spiders?” Plagg questions. Marinette’s phone buzzed, Chloe must have sent another text 

“They make webs, and some live in burrows. That’s pretty creative and home-y to me.” Marinette shrugged, opening her phone to look at what her friend sent her. 

Chloe: there’s an akuma

Chloe: a zookeeper got mad*

Chloe: tigress is here but you need to get your ass down here!

“Akuma alert, let’s go.” Marinette stood up and gathered her things, running into the locker room and throwing her stuff inside her locker. She could always grab her stuff tomorrow. Satisfied with her hastily made plan, Marinette turned to leave the locker room, only to come face to face with Ms. Mendeleiev.

“Why are you running around, Ms. Dupain-Cheng?” Mendeleiev frowned, not quite her trademark scowl, but definitely not happy either way.

“Uh…” Marinette swallowed. What, what should she say? “I need to go.” She cringed.

“Go?” Mendeleiev blinked, brows furrowed. She was silent for a quick moment, then she sighed. “You are excused. Go do what you need to do.” 

Wait, really? The strictest teacher in school is letting her leave early? Marinette decided to not waste anymore time, giving the woman a nod and rushing past. On her way to say the day.

Tigress guided the Akuma through the winding paths of the zoo, doing her best to stay away from people, hoping Beetlebug was spreading the word, and helping civilians evacuate. It wasn’t a good plan, but with Hanuman nowhere to be seen, and this Akuma being as dangerous as it was, Tigress could only do her best. She didn’t catch the akuma’s name, but she knew he was able to shape-shift between various animals, and was able to order other animals around. Creatures with teeth and claws, with the capability to hurt and kill.

Tigress darted through kiosks and fences, blinding searching for the next immediate path, not looking ahead. 

And that’s why she found herself surrounded by glass. It looked like an aviary, devoid of birds. 

“Fuck!” she panted, spinning around and facing off against the largest cat she had ever seen. The Akuma was a black panther, muscles rippling underneath black fur, tinged with faint purple rosettes. His eyes were violet, full of malice and bloodlust. The akumatized object, a fang necklace, shimmered, so full of magic. 

“Nowhere to hide.” The panther laughs, a deep voice that growls and sets off every survival instinct Tigress had. “Now you won’t get in my way.” He lashed his tail, and four large carnivores leaped forward, jaws open and claws bared. Two lions, a leopard, and a bear.

“Shroud!” Tigress screams, and she feels the familiar prickle of her body turning invisible. She immediately dodges attacks on all sides, using her whip and the branches to quickly change directions in midair, aiming for the exit. She was getting closer, throat dry, and there are surely places that are bruised, but her suit is made of magic and regular animal claws can’t pierce through—

The door to the enclosure shuts, locked by a large orangutan, shimmering fang necklace peeking through orange fur. 

“Finish her,” the Akuma orders.

And Tigress couldn’t move. Despite her invisibility, she knew the predators could smell her. 

“And to think you pretended to be one of us.”

----- WARNING -----

Ange Noir vaulted into the zoo, landing next to Beetlebug, who was helping visitors leave the zoo. 

“Get out of here.” Beetlebug said through clenched teeth. 

“No, I’m going to protect these people,” Ange Noir scoffed. “Now, what are we working with?” 

Beetlebug groaned. “Shapeshifter who can command animals, calls himself Animan. The Akuma is in his necklace. His eyes are purple, and Tigress is already in there.”

“Got it.” Ange ran further into the zoo. "Pursuit!”

Hundreds of trails made themselves known, but Ange looked towards the sky and saw the jagged path of a butterfly dripping in magic. She followed the trail to the panther enclosure, where it morphed into a larger, more animalistic trail. Ange focused on the scent, and her vision cleared, now only focusing on the black smoke Animan left behind. 

The smoke trail led her across the zoo, now empty of both animals and humans, quiet like a ghost town. Energy seemed to rise from the cobblestone pavement, something Ange could see and feel even though she shouldn’t have been able to. 

Screams echoed throughout the hollow zoo. Ange dropped her scent and quickly chased after the noise, hoping that the scream was only out of fear, and not pain. The screams rang again, and Ange only pushed herself to run faster, barely touching the floor below her feet. She came across an aviary, with roaring animals inside… and one of the glass walls splattered with red.

“Cataclysm!” Ange gasped, destroying the locked door and rushing inside. Four large animals ran past her, blood covering their claws and teeth. She paid them no mind, and searched through the mess of scarlet and tissue, and her breath caught in her throat. Ange’s hands flew to her mouth, holding back a sob and a retch. 

Tigress’s body slumped forward, away from the walls she must have been forced against. Ange knelt by her, pressing her hands on her neck, searching for a heartbeat, for breathing, anything. 

The left side of her body is little more than a ravaged wound, leg and arm missing, stomach open and squishy red lumps hanging out, unnatural in the sunlight. Tigress’s right hand clasped tight tucked underneath her jaw, forcing Ange to stare at the tears and snot dribbling out of her eyes and nose, mixing with the blood underneath her body, draining from her neck and chest. 

A rasp startled Ange, who rested a hand on Tigress’s cheek. The suit that should have protected her was torn and useless, the frayed ends started to break off into maroon sparkles, beginning to reveal the civilian underneath.

“Pl…please,” Tigress’s voice was little more than a wheeze, a brush of air that sounded weak and heavy and wet. Her hand shook and opened, revealing her bracelet. Her Miraculous. 

“I’ll keep it safe.” Ange was shocked to hear her own voice was warbling, fighting through unbidden tears. “I promise.” She took the bracelet, and the suit fizzled away, revealing a torn and massacred Juleka. Ange Noir swallowed down a gag, and turned to run, run far away from the horrific painting of purple and red. The colorless eyes that were now permanently half-lidded, frozen to stare at the false foliage dotted with insides. 

I will make this Akuma pay, Ange Noir vowed.

----- WARNING END -----

Nathaniel chased after Alya, who in turn was chasing after the Akuma, a large orangutan who gleefully freed as many animals as it could. Nathaniel didn’t waste any breath telling her she should not be livestreaming an Akuma attack, or spend a second asking why this was his life now. It is what it is, Nathaniel made this Miraculous bed, and he’s gonna lie in it. 

Beetlebug swung overhead, followed by Hanuman leaping, heading directly towards the Akuma. Alya squealed and somehow ran even faster.

They arrived at a food court, full of animals scavenging trash bins and the backs of food stalls, and standing in the center were the heroes, and the Akuma, who was now a panther. Animan was droning on about something, Nathaniel didn’t care to listen. 

“This way!” He hissed, dragging Alya towards some bins, and climbing them to reach the roof of a gift shop, which was ignored by the animals. “I don’t wanna get attacked.”

“Smart.” Alya praised, turning back to the conflict. 

“C’mon! Why don’t we talk about this?” Hanuman shrugged, and while Nathaniel couldn’t see the hero’s face, he imagined it was wearing a grin, maybe a tense one. 

“No, I will free my subjects, then I will kill every human, and animals will rule!” The panther roared, baring his teeth in a smile. 

Beetlebug put a hand to his ear. “Tigress, where are you?” 

Animan cackled, whipping his tail to reveal four animals covered in blood. “I think she has been dealt with.” He rumbled, shifting into a large tiger, bigger than the real ones beside him. 

Everyone froze, Alya gasped. Nathaniel could only imagine Juleka sitting in the back of class with him, listening to Rose and timidly answering Ms. Bustier’s questions. 

“Oh my god,” Nathaniel’s breath hitched, the hand holding Alya’s wrist tightened. The smell of water increased, a freshness that carried the tang of iron. Animan turned to look directly at him, Indigo eyes wide with shock, which quickly morphed into fear. Time slowed down, and Nathaniel knew him, saw through the magic, and felt… wrong.

Otis Cesaire, wronged by Lê Chiến Kim. Full of rage, despair, multiplied a thousand-fold by Monarch’s akuma. "Who are you?” The voice of a man, posh and dripping with evil, panicking, echoed in Nathaniel’s mind. 

The connection snapped.

Ange Noir, a ball of black fire and righteous wrath, attacked like a meteor, crashing into the Akuma faster than anyone could blink.

“HOW DARE YOU!” she screeched, hands covered in blood, face wet with tears. “HOW DARE YOU HARM MY FRIEND?”

Animan pulled himself to his paws, weakly wheezing. “She thought herself a beast, an insulting imitation of my grandeur.” Animan snarled. “I am Animan, King of Beasts, and I decided who lives and dies in my kingdom.”

Ange Noir processed his words, and the flames vanished, leaving the air cold and stale. “King of Beasts?” She questioned, pulling out her baton. 

“No.” Ange Noir’s voice carried over the wind, and every animal paused, turning to look at her, uncharacteristically tame. “You are not the king of anything. And if he were smart, Monarch would never make an akuma that threatened another’s domain.”

“What?” Animan growled, Monarch’s outline lighting up, framing his eyes. 

Ange Noir held out the hand holding her baton, her staff. “I am Ange Noir, wielder of the Ring of Destruction, of Fire, of Beasts. You have no dominion over me, and neither does Monarch.”

The butterfly outline flashed, and Animan whimpered, shifting into a lion, then a raptor, a bear, back into a panther, no longer larger than the other animals. He was no longer the leader.

Ange Noir stalked forwards, looking less like a human and more like a force of nature, pulling in light like a black hole, wreathed with lightning and wisps of flames, green eyes like pinpricks of light in the endless void of space. This was no longer Marinette. Her ring, every bit the danger Beetlebug and Hanuman warned against, had controlled her.

For the first time, Nathaniel was happy he could see through it all, and still see his friend, full of grief and trauma, mourning the loss of Tigress, whose death must have surely been drastic and violent, given the animals covered in blood.

“Give me your necklace.” Ange Noir ordered, and Animan complied, stepping forward and bowing, revealing his neck to the hero. She removed the jewelry gently, only to squeeze the fang charm, until all that was left was dust. The Akuma pulled itself out of the ash, already pure white. It absorbed Ange Noir’s powers, glowing bright red, and causing her to lose her otherworldly appearance. She was back to being her everyday Ange Noir. 

The Akuma fluttered away, taking Beetlebug’s golden light and returning the animals to their pens, reverting the damage done, and turning Animan back into Otis.

“Dad!” Alya cried, slipping off the roof and running towards her father, livestream be damned. 

Nathaniel didn’t move. He was powerless. It’s an odd thing to think of when your friend gets possessed by a God, but her show of power made his own weirdness seem like a parlor trick. He maybe felt like he had an upper hand against these heroes, but truth be told, Nathaniel was at the whims of them all. Any of them could crush him like a bug, and Nathaniel couldn’t stop them. All he can do is look through their masks. 

“Young man.” Nathaniel jumped, whirling around to see an old man wearing a hideously bright Hawaiian shirt standing in the shade. “What are you doing up there?”

Nathaniel scrambled to the ground, ignoring the warnings in the air. “What are you doing here? There was an Akuma. All the civilians should have been evacuated.”

“You weren’t.” The old man pointed out. 

“I just let Alya drag me around, okay?” Nathaniel sighed, walking forward to look at her and the heroes. 

Juleka was there.

“Holy shit.” He swore, running forward, already forgetting about the man and instead full of worry for his classmate.

“You can’t be here.” Beetlebug warned her, seeming to ignore the hypocrisy of Alya being here. 

Juleka’s eyes were wide, and she was covered in dark lines, her skin was patchy. Nathaniel could see the whole left side of her body was marked, red and irritated. 

Fèng should have healed her. 

Why didn’t it heal her?

“I am Tigress.” Juleka announced. Immediately, a small red creature flew from Ange’s pocket and zipped to her side, validating her claim. “And I renounce the Tiger Miraculous, and give it to Ange Noir for whatever she may use it for.”

“What?” Hanuman and Ange exclaimed.

“You can’t do that!” Beetlebug and the old man (who is that? Nathaniel questioned) scolded her.

“I don’t care.” Juleka’s voice wavered, but stayed strong. “I just fucking died, and I… need a break.”

“Then just say that!” Beetlebug approached. “Say that, and we’ll give you a break.”

“Fuck you!” Juleka glared at him. “You were going to get rid of me! I don’t trust you or whatever guardian you follow! All I know is that Ange will take care of Roarr, and if I want my Miraculous back, she would give it to me in a heartbeat. None of you are worth the shit you excrete and I am done with this stupid cult you found yourself in!”

“Tigress.” The old man cautioned, eyes narrowed. 

Juleka stiffened, and marched forward, slapping him across the face, rage filling her eyes. “It’s you! You’re the fucker who told Beetlebug you were going to replace me! You’re the stupid Guardian, aren’t you?”

Beetlebug kneeled behind the Guardian, holding him steady. Nathaniel stepped in, taking Juleka’s attention. “Hey, he’s not even worth your anger. I’m sure you need some time with Rose, or maybe a proper goodbye to… Roarr.” Nathaniel eyed the red creature. 

“Yes, we can go.” Ange Noir looked between Beetlebug and the Guardian worriedly. “And we can talk over the bracelet, okay?” 

Juleka nodded mutely, eyes starting to zone out. She was definitely not in the right state of mind. Ange Noir pulled her closer and used her baton to get away. 

“Hey!” Hanuman yelped, kneeling down, ready to jump after them. Nathaniel ran into his way, arms out and taking the attention from them.

Oh, this is horrible. 

“Let’s wait until Otis leaves?” Nathaniel suggested, looking back at the twin dumbfounded looks on both Alya’s and Otis’s face. “I’m sure you don’t want civilians knowing secrets they shouldn’t be knowing?” He met the stare of the Guardian, who was judging Nathaniel and most assuredly planning out easily he could be taken down. 

“Who are you?” The Guardian asks. 

“This is Nathaniel.” Beetlebug answers. “He was our friend.”

Nathaniel didn’t miss the use of a past tense. He looked at Alya and her father, reading their emotions. Alya’s face was blank, but Otis seemed absolutely bewildered. “I’m going to help Monsieur Césaire, Akumatization isn’t easy for anyone.” He started to guide the two civilians away from the heroes, certain that the two girls were too far away to track. “And I refuse to talk to any of you. I am simply a civilian who helps Alya sometimes. Nothing more, nothing less.” He had to set clear boundaries, especially with the old man. Nathaniel was sure Beetlebug and Hanuman would leave him alone, but who knows what a guardian is capable of?

The three civilians walked away, until they reached the Employee hub near the entrance of the zoo. Neither of the Césaire’s spoke, both lost in thought. They took seats in an abandoned lobby.

“What… happened?” Otis finally spoke up. “Not with me, I understand that… but the heroes seem to be very… divided.”

“Everyone but Tigress is an enemy to Ange Noir.” Alya responded. “I’ve never seen the Guardian before, no one has, other than the heroes.”

“Not Tigress, though.” Nathaniel added. “She was shocked to see him.” 

“What… is a guardian?” Otis asked. Alya hummed, and it seemed she didn’t know the answer.

“He’s the one who gives out the Miraculous.” Nathaniel took over. “He’s supposed to be their mentor, but I don’t think he’s doing a very good job of it if Tigress hates him that much.”

“How do you know that?” Alya looked over at him suspiciously. 

“Director Kubdel.” Nathaniel shrugged. “He had a good understanding of the old Order, and he knows how they ran thanks to the tapestries and various books that he translated.”

Alya huffed. “Oh yeah, the interview you didn’t tell me about?” She muttered.

Nathaniel sighed. “I told you, all you have to do is ask him, and I’m sure he’d be willing to interview you. It’s not like I’m keeping him from you!”

“Stop, both of you.” Otis stood up, dark eyes observing them. “Alya, your blog seems to have forced you to get closer to this superhero stuff than I would have liked, and I don’t appreciate you dragging a friend into something so… above our heads. I think your mom and I need to have another discussion about your online presence.” 

“What? No!” Alya jumped to her feet, pleading. Nathaniel didn’t respond, letting the two argue about the issue. His mom and aunt had no clue he was Ryder, no one other than Alix and Chloe knew. Granted, Nathaniel was very deliberate in his public image, making sure no one knew it was him. The heroes might have a clue, since they see him hanging out with Alya all the time, but Nathaniel wasn’t pretty sure they’d never tell. 

Speaking of the heroes… Nathaniel squirmed, thinking about the marks on Juleka’s arms and face. The dress she was wearing went down to her knees, and she wore leggings underneath, so the real extent of the damage was hidden. The super suits had to be strong, magically so, in order to handle all the beating the heroes go through. For Tigress to be as scarred as she was… to summon Marinette’s rare ire as fiercely as she had…

The damage must have been cataclysmic.

Ange Noir left Juleka sitting at the outside table of a cafe, leaving to charge her Miraculous again. She had to recharge before she fought Animan, but her grief was too tumultuous to garner any conversation. Now, however, hundreds of questions burned into the girl’s mind.

“What was that?” Marinette asked Plagg, who was crunching on a cheese cracker sandwich. “I lost myself back there. What happened?”

Plagg sighed. “Kid, I’m a god.” He flickered. Marinette unconsciously glanced at his horns. “I’m literally granting you the powers of an entire facet of reality, this isn’t just being a superhero in a movie. I am a god, divinity, and you are simply my mouthpiece. You speak my message, my truth, my purpose.”

“What does that have to do with controlling Animan?” Marinette responded with a snap in her voice. “You’re supposed to be Destruction, Fire, and Adventure, what the heck does being the King of Beasts have to do with those attributes?”

“I don’t know!” Plagg snapped back, dropping his snack. “Unlike every other Kwami out there, I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing! I’m just doing this whole superhero schtick because you want to do it!”

Marinette didn’t respond, her face frozen. Plagg flickered, vaguely drifting towards the ground. He looked apologetic.

“Claws Out.” In a flash of light, Plagg disappeared. Ange Noir blinked, and headed back to the Cafe, where Juleka had stayed, fidgeting with the zipper of her purse. As Ange walked closer, Juleka’s gaze jumped up, and she flinched. 

“Hi…” Juleka mumbled. It was only thanks to Ange’s superior ears that she could hear her response. The girl was fidgeting with a plastic spoon, and Ange Noir couldn’t help but look at the faint marks that marred her hand. 

“Are you okay?” Ange Noir sat down, looking up at Juleka’s face, trying to gauge her mood. 

Juleka shrugged. “Sorry for being so… angry back there.” 

“I hate the Guardian too.” Ange Noir joylessly smirked. “You were… going to be replaced? I’d be even more frustrated. Honestly, I’m proud of you.”

“He told Beetlebug I was going to be replaced.” Juleka sighed. “And then Beetlebug told Hanuman, behind my back, and said they weren’t allowed to tell me. They were gonna replace me with a Fox.” Juleka shuddered, rubbing her shoulders. 

“And… you want me to keep the bracelet?” Ange tilted her head, glancing at the cloudless sky. “I didn’t mean to steal your Miraculous, I just didn’t want to risk someone else getting it.”

“I know.” Juleka hummed. “But I… need a break. And I trust you to take care of Roarr. And give xem back if–when, I’m ready.”

Ange nodded slowly. “Roarr, are you okay with that?” 

The kwami zipped out from underneath the table, sitting on the desk between the girls. “I trust Juleka. I think you’ll be a good enough temporary holder.” 

“You can always visit.” Juleka offered. 

Ange took a deep breath. “So… that’s that, huh?” She stood up, gently, softly. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“Yes, please.” Juleka’s voice rasped.

Chapter Text

After Nathaniel and the citizens left, it was a silent pandemonium. The Guardian dragged Beetlebug away, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. Kim thinks the old man was embarrassed. 

Kim was abandoned in the food court, dressed as Hanuman, and the whole thing, the whole day, really, was wrong. He wasn’t too sure how. But… Hanuman knew he needed to go home. 

Chloe followed the bright light of Fèng heading out of the zoo, fixing up the damages that wild animals and scared people left behind. The gold and red wreathed through the world around the blonde, warm and comforting. Down the street, eyes trained on the last remnants of absolute, until all that remained was a pale, white butterfly. 

“There!” Duusu shot out from the inside of Chloe’s coat, landing on the butterfly with wide pupils. The insect didn’t even react, simply lying limp on the pavement, wings faintly fluttering.

“Duusu! What the heck?” Chloe scolded, pulling out a small mason jar with a hinged lid. “We don’t want to hurt it!”

“These butterflies are pure magic!” Duusu giggled, letting up on the poor bug. “I don’t think anything mundane can hurt them!”

Beetlebug had tried to crush the akuma, back with Stoneheart. The footage was grainy and shot from a camera really far away, But Chloe knew the clip was toted around as the first time Ange Noir used Cataclysm publicly. 

“Still,” she scoffed. “We want the magic butterfly to like us*” Duusu giggled again as Chloe held out a finger, letting the butterfly follow the warmth that the concrete didn’t provide. She put the butterfly in the jar, closing the lid with a wince. “C’mon, we need to get it to the terrarium at home.” 

Kim stood in a dimly lit hallway, staring at door 315. Xuppu sat on his shoulder, silent as always. They haven’t really spoken since the Rogercop incident, and Kim wasn’t too sure why. 

Kim wasn’t too sure about anything. 

“Any advice?” Kim asked. Xuppu glared at him. “I need your help, man! Why won’t you say anything?”

“Nothin’ to say.” Xuppu replied curtly. 

“Why are you mad? Is it ‘cause I’m breaking the rules?”

Xuppu shrugged. “Don’t care. Old man can stuff it.” 

The door opened, and Ba was inside the apartment, eyes wide. He immediately saw the creature on Kim’s shoulder. “Come inside.” He says with authority, the type adults get when they don’t know what the hell is going on. Kim obeys and takes the initiative to sit at the kitchen table, ready for his dads to interrogate him and Xuppu. 

“Taiwo!” Ba called. Dad must be in their room. Ba sat across from Kim, looking both imposing and corny, wearing a garish blue button up that honestly makes Kim’s eyes burn. “Come here, please.”

Dad makes his way to the kitchen, noticing the tense atmosphere, and sitting at the table before he notices Xuppu. “Khỉ? What’s going on?”

Kim’s leg starts bouncing. He glances at Xuppu, who is just staring back with a frustratingly neutral expression. “I’m Hanuman.” He blurts out. “I’m sorry for not telling you guys, but Beetlebug told me it was supposed to be a secret but Tigress died or something and the Guardian showed up and he didn’t seem very trustworthy and I didn’t know what to do but I couldn’t just talk to you guys since this is supposed to be a secret so I decided to tell you anyway.”

His dads didn’t respond immediately, taking in his word vomit and thinking it over. God, why aren’t they saying anything?

“And who are you?” Dad asked Xuppu. 

“I’m Xuppu, the Kwami of Fun.” The spirit answered, voice polite and calm. Jealousy spiked in Kim’s stomach. “I’m what transforms Kim into Hanuman.”

Dad nodded his head slowly, like a Kwami was a regular thing to be confronted with on a Wednesday evening. 

“Thank you for telling us, Kim.” Ba spoke up. “I’m not happy that you kept this a secret, but I understand you were told to do so. But…” Ba glanced between both Kim and Xuppu. “Who’s the Guardian?”

“He’s supposed to be the protector of the Miraculous, and be a mentor for all the current users today.” Xuppu left his perch on Kim’s shoulder, floating towards the adults. “But he hasn’t been doing his job correctly, and as such, he’s started to lose the trust of Tigress and Hanuman. Kim wanted your guidance instead.” 

“What happened, kid?” Ba frowned. 

And Kim wanted to answer. He really did. So much happened, and he wanted nothing more than to tell his dads, and maybe let them hug him while they watched some old movie on the couch. But in order to get that comfort, Kim needed to wade through all of this discomfort. But… He clammed up. Kim opened his mouth to answer, but the memory of Ange Noir stalking towards his direction with the aura of a God, and Juleka’s dark scars that contrasted violently against her pale skin, and the final confrontation with Nathaniel where everyone spoke in code that Kim couldn’t decipher, all of it added up and his legs wouldn’t stop bouncing and his hands started shaking. 

Xuppu seemed to notice, and mercifully answered for him. Explaining today’s events, even though Xuppu had been missing for most of it, he seemed to be able to recollect everything properly. Kim instead studied his parent’s expressions, the confusion and dawning horror. 

“Why isn’t he training Kim?” Dad asked. 

“I don’t know.” Xuppu shrugs. “He wasn’t traditionally trained to be a Guardian, he’s just the last member of the Order alive. From what I’ve heard from Beetlebug’s kwami, He’s only visited them a couple of times, so it’s not like Beetlebug is getting any real training either.”

“Kim, are you okay, son?” Dad finally turned to see his shaking child. Ba got to his feet, brows furrowed in worry. 

“Khỉ, you’re okay, we’re here with you.” Ba rubbed Kim’s shoulders. 

“Why?” Kim’s eyes sting. Shit. His throat is swelling, it feels. 

“I don’t know.” Ba sighs. He looks back at his husband, and they communicate with their eyes the way only two people who have known each other a long time could do. “C’mon, let’s go lay down.”

“What about Dad?” Kim’s crying now, a little, barely. 

“I’ll make some sandwiches for dinner, then we can watch a show in our room.” Dad stood up, smiling warmly and heading for the fridge. 

Kim let Ba drag him down the hallway, past his own room and into his father's room, lit red by a heat lamp in the corner. 

“What’s wrong?” Taiwo spreads mayonnaise on a slice of bread. His son is the only one in the household who tolerates it, and only with sliced turkey. Sort of like Taiwo and ranch dressing; Only with broccoli, nowhere else. 

The creature sitting on his kitchen counter is small, brown, and almost looks fur-less. But its fur is probably just short, Taiwo guessed. He sort of wants to pet it, but most things able to hold a conversation like this don’t really like getting pet.

“What do you mean?” Xuppu has been polite. Has been perfectly forthcoming with whatever answers it had for Taiwo and his husband’s questions. There was a rift, though. Very obviously between Xuppu and Kim. 

“I don’t think you like my son.” Taiwo puts the butter knife in the sink. “And you’re supposed to be protecting him from the Akumas. If I can’t trust you to keep Kim safe…” He trails off, not too sure what to threaten a little magic monkey with. When Taiwo is grooming dogs, simply promising a treat gets them to obey. But Xuppu is a monkey, a magical monkey that turns Kim into a hero. Was promising treats dehumanizing to a non-human creature like Xuppu?

But despite his doubts, Xuppu looks like he understands whatever threat Taiwo implied. “I think the lack of leadership and guidance has led Kim to misusing the power He has been given.” 

Taiwo blinks. “How bad has he been?” He wanted to deny it, believe his little boy could do no wrong, but… Kim is thirteen. If anyone were to take power at face value, and use it irresponsibly, it would be him.

“Not too bad, all things considered.” Xuppu contemplates. “Kim forced me to be silent for a couple of weeks, but I’m not too sure he even knows what happened.” 

“Huh.” Taiwo huffs. While the anger did seem to be an overreaction from his point of view, He’s sure Xuppu felt otherwise.

“I think I’m frustrated at everything. Maybe my anger is misplaced.” Xuppu mumbles to himself thoughtfully, moving to sit on Taiwo’s shoulder. The man grabs the plate of sandwiches and heads for the bedroom. “I’m not used to being out and… alive.”

Taiwo does not fully process the words until after he has entered his bedroom, Ða Minh and Kim resting in the bright red blankets, Kim holding a bearded dragon.

“That bad?” Taiwo turns to his husband. Cocoa wasn’t one to sit still and let herself be held, but she always seemed to be emotionally aware when someone needed comfort. 

Ða Minh nods, and the room is dark, lit only by the heat lamp in the far corner of the room, hanging above Cocoa’s terrarium. The reddish light bounces off the planes of his face, and Taiwo just wants to drop the plate and hold his husband’s face in the palms of his hands. But he doesn’t do that. Instead, he puts the plate down on the foot of the bed, and holds his son’s cheek, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

“Did you pick a movie?” He asked, glancing at the television that sat on a double dresser. 

“The video game one.” Ða Minh answers, pulling the plate closer and grabbing his sandwich.

“Wreck-it Ralph.” Kim clarifies, already taking a bite of his own dinner, Cocoa resting in his lap. 

“Ah.” Taiwo responds, sitting on his son’s other side and leaning in, making sure Kim knew he was there, a presence he could depend on. 

They still needed to talk about being a superhero and all that it entailed. Taiwo wasn’t going to stop Kim from being Hanuman, and although he still needed to have a conversation with Ða Minh about it, Taiwo was sure that his husband would agree. Kim had told them because he needed emotional support, not restrictive opposition. 

Juleka wasn’t a violent person. The honor of being the violent twin was Luka, and because he was violent and hot-headed, he had a punching bag on the top deck. One that Juleka was absolutely taking advantage of right now. Luka himself was sitting on a box nearby, aimlessly plucking at his guitar. He could normally conjure a tune that could match whatever storm was raging in Juleka’s chest, but the sight of her scars had scared him. 

"What happened?” Luka growled, pulling Juleka closer to him, away from Ange. 

“She saved me!” Juleka hurriedly said, hoping to calm him down before he got too angry.

“Juleka got attacked by an akuma.” Ange’s head bowed with shame. “Fèng was able to bring her back… but…” Ange’s eyes got shiny.

“You can go now.” Juleka didn’t want to see the hero cry. “I’ll tell him everything.”

Ange only nodded, jumping away. Luka wasted no time, pulling Juleka into her room, grabbing the first aid kit under the kitchen sink on the way, ready to take care of her.

Juleka could only stare at her body in the mirror. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t stuck noticing her broad shoulders and flat chest, her narrow hips and square torso. No, now she was going over the dark red marks that marked the left side of her body, stretching from her ear to the middle of her thigh.

There was a boy Juleka used to know, a classmate in first or second year, who had a red mark on his right cheek, covering part of his nose and ringing around his eye. Juleka had asked him about it. “Wine stains,” he had answered. A birthmark he would always have. The scars didn’t look too dissimilar, reaching out across her body like lightning or branches, across her stomach and chest, easily reaching the other side of her ribcage. There were smaller patches too, on her right hand and her face, random scratches that seemed to heal better than her other wounds, pale like stretch marks. 

Luka and Juleka could only stare. 

“Why didn’t it heal you?” Luka’s hands started to shake. 

“Maybe there was too much damage?” Juleka softly answered. 

“Fèng hasn’t left scars behind before.” Luka argued. He pulled a large shirt with a faded band logo out of Juleka’s closet, the shirt she wore when she didn’t feel like wearing a padded bra. 

“None of the Akumas were dangerous like this one.” She grabbed the shirt and pulled it over her head, wincing at the odd feeling of fabric against scarred skin. The scars were vaguely bumpy, like fibrous tissue, and the nerves underneath clearly hadn’t healed completely, leaving everything sensitive.

It wasn’t long after that Juleka asked to use the punching bag. She went through a bunch of various exercises for beginners, repeating as she wanted. It probably wasn’t healthy to workout like this for as long as she is, especially a workout as unfamiliar as this one. But the memories of today kept surfacing, and Juleka needed to not think. 

“Should I get dinner?” Luka sighed. Anarka was out with her friends on a week-long trip to Italy. She had left them with plenty of money in case of emergencies… but she had forgotten to stock the fridge before she left. 

Juleka paused her relentless attacks, panting. “Probably.” She rasped, moving towards her brother, where he had a glass of water ready for her. 

“D’you wanna come with?” 

“No.” Juleka didn’t want to be seen. Her scars… god, school is gonna fucking suck tomorrow. She needs to tell Alya and Nathaniel to stay quiet, to not reveal her identity. Fuck, why doesn’t she have their numbers?

“Does Thai sound good?” Luka was on his phone, scrolling through whatever. Maps or shit. Juleka hummed in approval, and wordlessly returned to her exercises, ignoring the pained sigh of her brother and his quiet departure. 

She slapped an old man today. The man with a hunch that old people get. He’s balding, with wisps of hair around the crown of his head, curling near his ears. Dark eyes, solid ice. Juleka had taken one look and knew. Just, knew he was the stupid Guardian she heard Beetlebug mention a few times. Him and Ange. Ange never liked him, and he never liked her. The Guardian told Beetlebug that she was getting replaced. All because she was too nice to Ange? Ange Noir wasn’t an enemy, how she treated others, like Chloe and Tigress, spoke for herself. Actions speak louder than words. Ange Noir was kind in all she did, and the Guardian was silent as fuck and hadn’t done shit.

It’s odd, thinking thoughts without Roarr helping her focus. Her mind was too wild, too scared and frustrated. Roarr helped guide her thoughts from beginning to end, carefully rounding out tangents and intrusive voids, keeping her from spiraling. Juleka wished she could keep Roarr with no need of the Miraculous, but that wouldn’t be possible. She couldn’t keep the bracelet, anyhow. Beetlebug and the Guardian knew who she was. They could easily take the bracelet away, trap Roarr in that box that made xem upset to talk about. The only person who knew Ange was Chloe, and Juleka couldn’t see Chloe selling out Ange like that. Plus, if Juleka ever wanted to be a hero again (A vigilante?) she could always ask Ange, and Ange wouldn’t hesitate to give Roarr back. 

“This is all your fault you know.” Juleka jumped, spinning around to see no other than Beetlebug. His green eyes are frosty, and his face is twisted into a bitchy expression. 

“Get the fuck out of here.” Juleka turns away from him. 

Beetlebug appears in front of her, rage and anger making him feel like he was eye-level to Juleka. “You only lost the bracelet because you couldn’t listen to the Guardian. If you weren’t so stupid and ignorant, you could have kept your Miraculous, and we could have trusted you.”

“Me? Stupid?” Juleka whirls around, grabbing the nearest weapon she could find; a small metal baseball bat. “I can’t trust you! What the hell does this random-ass old man do that makes you trust him so much? Didn’t anyone ever tell you to not trust random adults who demand authority? It never ends well!” Juleka snarled, swinging at Beetlebug, who merely leapt away.

“My Kwami knew him!” Beetlebug defended that idiot old man. “He’s taught me lots about being a hero!”

“Well, he didn’t teach me shit!” Juleka screams. “He has you forcing Ange away, she wasn’t doing anything, but you just grab her and try to take away her ring—And that ignorant fucker would rather have us fight two enemies instead of worrying about the actual terrorist who is actually hurting people!” Juleka swung again, and managed to clip Beetlebug’s ankle as he jumped away again. It didn’t seem to affect him at all, what with his magical suit and all. Juleka growled in frustration. Why was his suit able to handle a hit, but hers wasn’t? What made her so weak that she had to die?

Tears started to flow, burning her eyes and closing her throat. Juleka had no mind for anymore words, she didn’t care about whatever stupid shit Beetlebug was babbling on about now. 

"You’re willing to fix this injustice?” a warm voice rumbled at the base of her head. "Will you take down that foolish old man, take away the Miraculous, save them from his abuse?”

Juleka froze, staring at Beetlebug, whose bitchy expressions gave way to absolute terror. 

I want to. I need to. Roarr had explained once, what it was like when xe wasn’t being used. The Zodiac Miraculous had fallen to the wayside, especially after the stronger elemental Miraculous appeared. Now, it would be centuries until Roarr or any of his fellows would be used. And the magic that the miracle box used had been broken for some time, leaving the Kwami tired, and suppressed. 

He doesn’t deserve to be the Guardian.

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Nathaniel got to school twenty minutes early, as per Alya’s request. He hopes she was just telling him about her new lost freedom, if what Otis said yesterday was any indication. Of course, Alya was stubborn, and Nathaniel expected her presence on the blog to drop for a few weeks at most, and then she’d be back on the grind, spouting whatever she wanted on her site. 

But all it took was one glance at the fidgety girl and Nathaniel knew he was in for a horrible morning. Something pulled him closer, however. Cursing in his head. Nathaniel approaches his classmate.

“Nathan!” Alya grins way too wide, and it’s honestly really freaky, but then she just drags him into the bathrooms tucked away underneath the left set of stairs. 

“This is the girls’ room!” Nathaniel freezes. It doesn’t look too much different from the boys’ bathroom, maybe the tiles are whiter. But He is very much not supposed to be here.

“Okay, so here’s the deetz,” Alya pulls herself up, standing straight and looking oh so serious. “My dad took away my laptop and computer, and I have to give him my phone at night, which they check to make sure I’m staying off the Beetleblog."

Oh, so Otis was being extremely serious. Thank goodness, Nathaniel huffs. Alya really needed to not be in the spotlight. 

“However, this is a good thing!” Alya grabbed at a necklace she was wearing, a silver swirl hanging off of a thin chain. 

Oh no. 

“I have a miraculous!” Alya cheered. Immediately, a figure popped out of her bag and shoved itself into her face.

“What part of ‘secret identity’ don’t you understand?” The small creature spat. “You’ve had me for only a couple of hours and you’ve already gone against my very image!” 

Alya rolls her eyes, leaning to the side to talk to Nathaniel. “This is Trixx, my Kwami. Trixx helps me transform!”

Trixx whirls around and stares at Nathaniel. They both stop moving, and the aroma of clean water flooded their senses, clearing away the stale air of the bathroom. Trixx is a fox, Nathaniel guesses. A small thing with black fur and glowing orange eyes, surrounded by a mist that seemed to just… orbit its body. 

“Hi?” Nathaniel desperately wants to shake Alya until she has some sense forced into her. And the Guardian? What the heck is he thinking? What about Alya screams 'Responsible Hero'?

“So, I have a plan!” Alya continues her tirade. “Since I won’t be able to work on the Beetleblog both because my parents suck and because I’m a superhero now, you can take charge on the Beetleblog, and post whatever articles I send you, and you just pretend to be me!” Alya nods as if everything is okay and no one wants to scream at her.

“What?” Nathaniel glances once more at Trixx, who hasn’t stopped staring at him. “Why are you so stressed about this blog? You’re a hero now, shouldn’t you be focusing on that?”

Alya groaned. “Weren’t you listening? I am focusing on being a hero! You are focusing on the blog! It’s a win-win situation!”

“I don’t want to do that?” Nathaniel takes a step back. That kwami won’t stop staring at him.

The door opens, and finally the heavy gaze leaves Nathaniel in favor of hiding in Alya’s bag.

“Uh…” Chloe looked between the two. Her eyebrows crinkled together, her mouth twisting in disgust. “Nathan, I thought you hated her?”

“What?” Alya snapped, but Chloe ignored her. 

“You can do so much better, trust me.” Chloe put a hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder, pulling him away from Alya’s angry huffing, out of the bathroom and into the school courtyard. “Disgusting, swapping spit in a school bathroom? Nathan, have some decorum!”

“What? No!” Nathaniel squirmed away, the idea of… ‘swapping spit’ with Alya, with any girl, made him shiver with disgust, wrenching his shoulder away from Chloe’s tight grip. “She was just talking about her blog!” 

“God, I hope that’s all she was doing!” Chloe rolls her eyes. “Of all the nasty, disgusting—”

The sky screamed. The two kids looked up, and Hell rained down upon them.

He woke up on a boat, in the sunshine. Where was he? Who was he? In front of him was an angel, wearing dark clothes, head wreathed with a blue that rivaled the sky above, contrasting nicely with the red of his eyes.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I don’t know?” The angel replied, frowning, and the metal adoring his lips glistens, drawing his attention. He looks around, tearing his eyes away from beauty as he finally realizes destruction surrounds him. The boat was in an all right shape, but the buildings surrounding the large river were riddled with holes, smoking carnage and filled with questioning voices. No one knew who they were 

“Adrien!” A voice rose above the rest, an old man crouched behind a large sheet of ceiling that sliced into the pavement, standing straight up. He knows that name.

“Am I Adrien?” He looked back at the angel, who merely shrugged. 

“It suits you.”

Ange Noir had an idea of who was akumatized. She stood among a crowd of confused students, all staring and asking each other who they were, who other people were, where they were. Their eyes were red, whites and pupils and all. Dupont was already attacked, but there was no other sign of damage. 

“Do you remember anything?” Ange Noir asked a girl from Mendeleiev’s class, Mireille. The girl only shook her head.

“Water fell from the sky.” A boy jumped in, one Ange didn’t recognize. “That’s what I saw when I opened my eyes. But there isn’t anything before that.” 

Ange Noir sighed, looking around to see if there was any other clue she could find. Did Juleka leave anything behind? 

“I know you.” Ange turned and came face to face with Nathaniel, who stared at her with bright red eyes. He stood next to Chloe, who simply gazed around, hopelessly lost. Nathaniel was far too… lucid.

“You do.” Ange nods, swallowing her despair. This isn’t the first time Nathaniel got attacked, and this won’t be the last. “Do you remember anything?”

Nathaniel shrugged. “The creature dug around in my mind. She was searching for something. I didn’t have what she wanted.”

“What did she want?” Ange definitely wanted to know why Nathaniel could remember anything beyond what happened after, but there wasn’t time for that. 

“The Guardian?” Nathaniel shrugged again. “I don’t know what that is, but she screamed it before she left. Headed that way.” He points somewhere to the north. 

“Thank you.” Ange nodded, jumping away, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, searching for any signs of people with red eyes, or water damages, or something. 

Juleka wanted the Guardian. Why? Ange wasn’t exactly sure. Granted, she could make some educated guesses about revenge and anger, but to go through people’s heads? And then leave them with no memories, no recollection of anything? Ange Noir was scared to come face to face with this new akuma. 

There, clung to the side of the Place Concorde obelisk, a creature so large and inhuman. Ange Noir landed in the square, in sight of the Akuma.

“Juleka!” she called, and the creature focused on her, leaping down and landing in front of the hero, the small, insignificant hero. 

The Akuma was large, with four thin arms and a long, skinny tail. She wore an animal skull on her head, and a ribcage on her torso, with her own ribs jutting out from beneath pale, sickly skin. Her face was flat, cat-like, with large red eyes and a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth. Long white hair flowed from beneath the animal skull, moving like it was underwater. Juleka moved with all six limbs, truly an animalistic beast with almost no connection to the sweet girl she once was.

“Juleka, I’m here to help you!” Ange Noir stood crouched, ready to dodge if this Akuma decided to attack. Juleka slithered down the obelisk, moving back and forth like a snake, the skull on her head reminding Ange of a python with its venomous fangs bared. The Akuma stopped, face next to Ange’s cat ears, icy breath making her hair stand up.

“I am Dark Tigress.” The Akuma whispered, voice slimy and frigid, in opposition with the vengeful glow of her piercing red eyes. It echoed with a false sort of power. 

“How can I help you?” Ange responded. 

“The Guardian needs to be destroyed.” Dark Tigress hissed. “I need to save Roarr.”

Roarr flew out of Ange’s shadow. “I’m right here! I’m safe, remember!” Xes voice shook with unrestrained fear. 

A butterfly symbol appeared in front of Dark Tigress’s face. Roarr choked, pulling back until xe was on Ange’s shoulder. 

“I know where he is!” Xe frantically whispers. “If Juleka gets me, Monarch will know everything! Quick, Unify me!”

“What?” Ange was taking quick steps back, away from the frozen akuma. 

“Juleka can’t grab me if I’m in a suit. Just say ‘Roarr, Unify!’”

“Roarr, Unify!” Ange repeated, and Roarr swirled away into her left hand, where a panjas bracelet appeared, the index ring fused with Plagg’s ring. A bright red glow traveled up her arm, her torso, all over her body. The low braid Ange wore turned into a high ponytail, and her tunic got longer, her gi morphed into a tighter suit like Tigress’s, bright red hands and deep black body. Her sash belt was longer, thinner, and over-all Ange Noir felt more… Cat-like. 

She felt… Powerful, in a sharp sort of way. Plagg’s power was a force of Nature, the Decay that came with every fall, every disaster, every sunset. Roarr’s power was smooth, a hunter going after its prey, so sure in its regal demeanor and ruthless attitude, king of the jungle.

Dark Tigress lost whatever mind she was holding on to, now purely a creature after Monarch’s desires, snarling in anger at her loss of Roarr. Ange Noir wasted no time running around the deserted plaza, frantically trying to piece together what the akuma could be hiding in. Whatever it was, it hid spectacularly in Dark Tigress’s form, not an obvious piece of jewelry or a weapon of any sort. 

“Quip!” Hanuman shot a bright orange ball of energy from the tip of his Ruyi Bang, aiming it straight at Tigress’s face. It exploded in a ball of sparkles, and suddenly the akuma fell over in a fit of laughter, unable to go after the heroes anymore. Beside Hanuman stood Beetlebug, whose eyes were a bright red. 

“Thanks.” Ange Noir frowned. “I can’t find the akumatized object.”

“What happened to you?” Hanuman raised a brow at Ange’s new appearance. 

“Roarr knows the Guardian’s location, as well as my identity. Juleka can’t read xes thoughts if I use xem.” Ange Noir stared at Beetlebug. “He got his mind read, then?” 

Hanuman huffed. “I think he was there when Juleka got akumatized. He was on her boat.”

Ange groaned. “Great. Whatever, I don’t care. He won’t know what her akumatized object is, why is he even here?” 

“Master Fu told me to help.” Beetlebug answered, perfectly polite and obviously bewildered by absolutely everything happening around him. Ange only groaned again. Fu was the Guardian, presumably. 

“Nothing stands out.” Hanuman looked over Dark Tigress. “Maybe the bones? Other than that, everything else seems to be a part of her.”

Ange double-checked and internally agreed with his assessment. “Okay, Beetlebug, call on your lucky charm, let’s see if we get anything good.” He stared blankly back at her, which only made Ange growl in frustration. They were running out of time!

“Just close your eyes and say ‘Lucky Charm!’” Hanuman grabbed Beetlebug by his shoulders. Beetlebug tensed, and his face flooded with even more red, this time a natural source of the color. Ange didn’t want to know anything about it.

“Lucky Charm?” Beetlebug repeated, and an orb of yellow light appeared in front of him. He caught it and stared at the item. Hanuman stepped away to reveal a false Kwami made of plastic. It looked very similar to what Ange thought Tikki would look like. Fewer spots, surprisingly.

“A distraction?” Hanuman questioned, looking at Ange. It felt really weird to have him immediately turn to her for guidance, given his normal animosity. 

“Yeah.” Ange turned back to analyze Dark Tigress. The laughter was starting to fade. “I’ll cataclysm the head and ribcage then. Help Beetlebug throw that in front of her face.”

“Okay.”

A bright orange hero landed on the other side of the Plaza, closer to Dark Tigress than the heroes. Dark Tigress turned to look at the newcomer and screamed, making the orange hero fall to her knees, clutching at her ears. Dark Tigress ran at her, and Ange wasted no time.

“Cataclysm!” she called out, reaching for Tigress’s ribcage, focusing on the entire skeletal structure. It shattered, and Dark Tigress whipped around to face her attacker, a large hand catching Ange midair and throwing her to the pavement. Ange Noir couldn’t escape, wind knocked out of her. Tigress screamed again, right at Ange Noir’s head. A pressure appeared behind Ange’s eyes, and deep in her ears. Something horrible was going to happen, something painful.

“Mirage!” Someone cried, and suddenly the world was bright, too bright, burning navy echoes in Ange’s vision. But the pressure stopped, thank goodness. The weight disappeared, replaced by the body of Juleka, regular Juleka, small and shaky, sobbing into Ange’s shoulder. Ange couldn’t move, so close to giving in and crying as well. She didn’t even notice the butterfly taking some of her magic and flying off to repair everything, restore everyone’s memories. 

Hanuman slowly approached, Beetlebug and the new hero standing far away, talking to each other. Hanuman’s eyes are full of worry, for Juleka or himself Ange had no clue. 

“Juleka.” The girl flinched at his voice. “Juleka, I am… so sorry.” 

The girl looked up, tears and snot running down her face. “What?” She rasped. 

“I really mistreated you.” Hanuman sat down on the pavement. “I trusted Beetlebug, and I trusted the Guardian. But I got a third opinion, and they really… made me realize I was in the wrong.” Hanuman scratched the back of his neck, avoiding Juleka’s steady gaze.

“Thank you.” Juleka whispered. “I haven’t forgiven you yet.”

Hanuman grinned. “That’s fine.” He turned to look at Ange. “And I’m sorry to you, too. I promise I’ll treat you better from now on.”

Ange Noir shook her head in amazement. “I’ll trust it when I see it.” But she was smiling too, lips pulling in a way they hadn’t for a while. The world went silent, just the three of them marveling at the high emotions that came with the promise of new beginnings. 

Then Beetlebug approached. “Hanuman, this is our new recruit.” He gestured to the orange hero beside him. She was short, and wore a lot of orange. A Fox. 

Juleka and Ange got to their feet. “Do you want me to take you home?” Ange offered quietly. Beetlebug talking about Juleka’s replacement in front of Juleka, right after she was akumatized? What in the world was he thinking?

“Yes please.” 

Beetlebug let Ange and Juleka leave. He didn’t really care, more just… afraid that Juleka would have blamed Beetlebug for her akumatization. It wasn’t his fault, it was Monarchs and Juleka’s temper. But whatever. He didn’t hear what Hanuman said to her, too busy trying to get his bearings (Why was Ange red?) and learn about his newest partner, Rena Rouge. Hanuman’s reaction to her wasn’t as welcoming as Beetlebug hoped it would be. 

“What’s up! I’m Rena Rouge, the fox!” Rena held out a hand, which Hanuman shook. 

“Hanuman. I guess you’re helping us now?” The taller boy frowned. Something was wrong. 

“Are you okay?” Beetlebug stepped closer, analyzing his friend. 

“Didn’t sleep well.” Hanuman huffed. “I’m heading home, bye.” And with that he leapt away, Circlet beeping. 

Oh shoot, the timers!

From: Nathaniel: Hey I just want you to know I’m not letting anything that’s happened show up on the blog

You: thank u

You: what bout alya

From: Nathaniel:*She gave me admin status so I can delete anything

From: Nathaniel: Also her parents are being super strict with her right now so she won’t be writing any time soon

The house is silent, like always. Marinette stands in her living room, pacing back and forth. The lights are off, the room only lit by the streetlights outside. Her Kwami follows her around, worried. Of course they would be. 

“Everything is changing.” Marinette repeats. She has been muttering it all day, having barely paid attention at school.

“Bread, please talk to us!” Plagg is flickering, his green lightning flashing red every once in a while. The merge with Roarr had affected both of them. Roarr lost a little definition of xes body, now fuzzy around the edges. 

“Juleka is gone, a Fox is here, The Guardian has shown up, Chloe is up to something, Duusu won’t stay with me, everything is different!” Marinette can’t suck in enough air, pacing faster and faster. 

“Marinette! Please!” Roarr shoved xemself in Marinette’s face, halting her frantic movements. “Everything will be okay! You have us, and Nathaniel, and Juleka!”

“Alim and Alix too.” Plagg added. “And Chloe is your friend, no matter what she’s up to, you know she’d never leave you!”

The girl throws herself onto the couch, pressing her palms against her eyes, trying to stem the flow of tears. She cried too much. Too much these past months. Plagg zipped through the ceiling, leaving Roarr behind. 

“Why can’t I–” Marinette broke off, gasping. “I c-can’t handle thi-is!”

“Because you’re young,” Roarr sat beside her. “And the Guardian is making everything complicated. It’s alright to not fully understand what’s happening. One day at a time, right?”

Marinette sniffles against her will, scooping the kwami up into a hug. She can’t respond, her voice is too shaky. 

One day at a time.

Chapter Text

Hey yall, Ender here! 

I would like to say first: I am so sorry for the lack of updates. I feel super bad about that, and it really isnt okay for me to have spent so long without giving you guys some sort of warning. I was pushing it off for so long because I was certain that all it had to do was go through some writers block, and then I'd be back to updating monthly, but obviously, that was not the case.

My plot was very sparse, when I started the story. because if this, my early chapters are slow, amd not much happened in them, and I let the characters have a lot of agency. They ended up becoming very different from how I initially planned them to be; I.e. Nathaniel's sudden importance and Kim's change of heart. 

Because I wrote this story as I went, and let the characters become whoever they wanted to be, I ended up writing myself into a corner, and I've realized I needed to rewrite my plot, which ended up making me realize it would probably be best to go through and rewrite my story. Something I'm sure a lot of you know, is that these stories I post are first drafts. I go through some basic spelling and grammar checking, but there really isnt any other type of editing I do with my chapters before I post them. 

I knew I was struggling with my plot around Mr Pidgeon/Rodgercop, but I had hoped that if I simply struggled through it, I'd end up getting past that block and everything would work out, but obviously, that did not pan out :/

(My sudden inspiration with Elmushterri's PJ Mask/Gunntech Rewrite and my Beyblade OC Fic didnt help either, I ended up just writing those and ignoring the MLB elephant in the room.)

As of Now, This fic will be on hiatus while I fix my plot and rewrite my chapters. I have no clue how long that will be, but I'm super excited to get to work!

I just wanted to let you all know, because I felt super bad leaving you guys to dry. 

Also, If there are any points of this story that you really enjoyed, and would like me to either keep or expand upon in my rewrite, please let me know! The rewrite won't be entirely different, but I know there are some plot points I dislike, and some details that I feel aren't that important to the whole story. 

Yeah thats all I really wanted to say. Sorry I had to make this note, I really didn't want to 'give up' on this fic, but I might as well be honest about my plans :)

Have a good day! (and thanks for 740 kudos! thats ridiculous, ily guys so much!)