Chapter Text
There was a set of four words that could strike fear into most, but none more than Félix Graham De Vanily.
“Marinette had an idea.”
Her creativity had no bounds, so this could either be the greatest thing since sliced bread or it could cause the actual end of the world.
(Alix told him that it had happened before, apparently. All he knew about the event was that it had been so bad that it got retconned via time travel. And it led to the moon getting cut down the middle like an apple. Félix didn't like this. Not only were retcons a cheap trick by HACK writers with zero self-respect, but what the hell did the poor moon do to always be at the scene of the crime? The moon was just a girl in the world.)
This was not to say Marinette wasn’t smart, because bloody hell, she was. For all his education, Félix was fairly certain that in a practical sense, Marinette was smarter than he was. They were both schemers, but Marinette had the benefit of understanding how people work. And, unfortunately for him, understanding people was more useful than being able to recite Shakespeare from memory or solving college-level math equations. Félix's ability to scheme only extended to himself. His machinations could only go so far, because he couldn’t trust anyone.
Marinette could rope a bunch of people into her plans using her charm. She could trust people with parts of the plan and rely on them to pull their weight. In a 1v1, maybe he could outwit her. But with her friends at her side, she was unstoppable. The only reason he’d managed to take the Peacock Miraculous was because she was in her “I can’t rely on anyone” era, inadvertently stifling her greatest strength.
The only thing Félix had over Marinette was being fluent in two more languages than her. (Not to say she wasn’t gaining on him. She was coming close to reaching fluency in Mandarin. He needed to catch up on his Japanese studies, if he wanted to maintain his lead over her.)
But for all of her intelligence, she didn’t always think things through when she thought she had a particularly good idea. If she had her doubts, she’d ruminate on it for God knows how long. But if she had a feeling it would work out, she’d jump right in thoughtlessly and that was when things went wrong. That’s what Alya said about it, anyway.
Then again, this idea she’d come up with involved him, and she tended to play her cards more carefully whenever he was involved. She’d asked him to meet up at her house, which was out of the ordinary, too. How she’d explain away a private meeting with her boyfriend’s cousin to her parents was her problem, and that was even if she could get Adrien to get out of her house long enough for the two of them to actually have a conversation.
Entering the Dupain-Cheng bakery was like entering a different world. A home that smelled like cinnamon and not cigarettes. Before he could take a full step inside, Mrs. Cheng had already spotted him, charging at him like a linebacker with a plate of pastries.
“Hi! You’re Marinette’s guest, right? Adrien’s brother,” The warmth in her voice was so bright that it could’ve casted him in shadow.
“Cousin.” He replied dryly.
“Right, right! Marinette told me you were British! And, well, I’ve been wanting to experiment for a while now and maybe I got a little carried away,” She was babbling. Just like her daughter. “And I’m sure you miss all the pastries in London…” He really didn’t. They were off limits. “So, take these!”
Félix felt something poking at his pocket. Even if Félix was uninterested, he could almost picture Duusu, salivating at the sight of them. He took the bag from her, accepting it gratefully, if not for himself then for them.
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
Mrs. Cheng huffed in feigned frustration, “You rich kids and your manners… I swear it took…” She counts her fingers, “three months to get Adrien to call me Sabine. Three WHOLE months! Can you believe that?”
“I can.”
That sure sounded like Adrien. He was always respectful like that, but if he was requested to change how he addresses a person, he’d eventually manage to do it. Félix could only think of one exception.
When Félix was young, he couldn’t wrap his head around why Adrien seemed to refer to Colt as literally anything other than his uncle. Mr. Fathom was acceptable, but each time Adrien simply referred to him by his first name, he’d try to order Adrien to stop. And proceed to panic, because he didn’t have that control over him.
And Aunt Emilie would smile at him like it was the funniest joke in the world.
Félix hated his father, and so did Adrien, but Emilie hated him first. She was the ORIGINAL hater. She’d fought so much harder than he did, when they both were on their deathbeds. Just to get the satisfaction of outliving the guy.
He wished she had.
Mrs. Cheng continued, “I understand there is a cultural difference inherent between social classes, but I’d appreciate it if he’d be more casual with me, you know?”
Félix paused. It literally wasn't a cultural difference. It was just them, and their fucked-up family. “I’m sure he’s trying,” he responded carefully.
She nodded furiously, “I’m sure he is! That family is such a wonderful bunch. I never got to meet them, but I was SUCH a big fan of Emilie’s movies! And his father, well, that statue of him doesn’t stand for no reason!”
It is QUITE LITERALLY standing for no reason.
He had to remind himself that getting into a scuffle with Marinette’s mom over something she said out of ignorance was, objectively, a horrible idea. So, he just nodded.
She might have been able to pick up on the fact that he’d rather drink bleach than discuss this topic further, and swiftly changed topic, “Sooo…. What are the two of you planning for Adrien’s birthday?”
Right. Adrien’s birthday. To give Marinette credit, that was a pretty good excuse for their meeting. But Félix had figured out Adrien’s birthday gift almost half a year ago. And Marinette had literally helped him with it. He’d started early, because coming up with gifts for people who are absurdly rich is actually quite difficult. If he bought something expensive just to impress him, both of their birthdays would become a matter of who could spend more of their dead father’s money.
Ever since Félix was falsely given the Miraculous of the dog, he couldn’t stop thinking of how similar Adrien was to one. In the sense that he was loyal, friendly, and good. Félix considered himself more similar to a cat. A feral, misbehaved one. The kind that brings bad luck. He of course kept this fact to himself, because he didn’t need that stupid stray suing him for copyright infringement.
So around five months ago, Félix started to ask around about the proper method for finding a puppy for Adrien. Which led him to this lady who trains anxiety service dogs. He wasn’t sure what breed of dog would make Adrien the happiest, so he decided to ask Marinette. Who promptly informed him that Adrien preferred hamsters. But when he countered with the fact that this was to be a trained service dog, she quickly changed her tune. As if she was surprised that Félix would be so considerate and perceptive.
The two of them eventually concluded that Adrien would much rather help a shelter puppy than have a fancy purebred dog. So, the two of them found one, not worrying too much about the breed. Marinette liked her because her name was Goldiebug Ladylocks, a name that was both completely nonsensical and absolutely something Adrien would have come up with himself.
In a month, she’d be ready to come home, around the time of Adrien’s birthday. Aside from Kagami, Goldie was one of the only things Félix had to look forward to.
Marinette, meanwhile, just about spontaneously exploded whenever they received a new photo from Goldie’s trainer. To think her mother somehow didn’t know was an impressive display of restraint on her part. Speaking of, he could faintly hear her fumbling down the stairs like a tornado, and braced himself for when it would inevitably touch land. He didn’t even get the chance to answer Sabine’s question.
And…. there she was. Frowning at him, “Sometimes I wonder if you make an effort to be early just to make me look bad, Felix.”
“My sincerest apologies for my timeliness. It’s not as if it’s a virtue, or anything.” He replied, dumbfounded.
“Oh, hush Mari! He clearly doesn’t know you very well,” Sabine laughed, “For future reference, if Marinette gives you a time to meet… add five minutes, then you can show up. If she happens to be with Adrien, add 10.”
Marinette’s father, Tom, poked his head out of the kitchen. Félix froze.
“Add four hours if there’s an Akuma!” He laughed, a loud rumbling noise that somehow made Félix tense even more. Which was weird, because by all accounts, Tom Dupain was a human teddy bear. Not a single thought behind those eyes. There was no reason to be afraid, so why was he?
Félix nodded, eyes glazed over, “duly noted.”
“Well have fun, you two! I’ve got to make sure Tom doesn’t get distracted and burn anything,” Sabine said, guiding Tom back into the kitchen, “ADHD runs in the family, after all!”
“MOM!!” Marinette’s face was red as a beet. Which was also weird, given that Marinette having ADHD was like water being wet or the sky being blue. Obvious. “Follow me to my room before they embarrass me anymore, please.”
——
Félix had heard that people’s bedrooms tend to mirror them as a person, and Marinette’s bedroom was, unsurprisingly, just like her: colorful and spontaneous. There was not an inch of dead space.
Each bedroom Félix had didn’t reflect him at all. His childhood room said a lot more about Colt than it did about him. Of course, It was directly across from his father’s office. When he died, Félix moved to the opposite wing of the penthouse, in a former guest room. Probably to escape his ghost, or something. When it came to decorating that room, Félix had drawn a blank. He’d never gotten the chance to consider what he liked, aesthetically speaking. Even a year after his father’s death, Félix hadn’t even begun to unpack that maybe he’d rather not dress like a goddamn politician every day.
He’d hung up a few theater posters and called it a day. And did the exact same thing with his room in the Agreste estate. It barely looked lived in.
“Make yourself comfy!” Marinette babbled. Before she could continue, Duusu shot out of his pocket like a bullet. He could only imagine why. It’s probably claustrophobic to spend an afternoon in the confines of his pocket. (Maybe a backpack, fanny pack, or even a purse would be a good investment? Like, imagine Duusu chilling in Amélie’s vintage Louis Vuitton purse. That’d be Priceless. Maybe he’d get one of those, simply to make Colt do a somersault in his grave.)
“Marinette!!!!!!” Duusu wailed, “It’s so wonderful to see you! I hope you are well!”
Unlike the other Kwamis, Marinette’s interactions with Duusu were very rare. The others got the chance to get to know her from living with her, whereas Duusu went straight from Gabriel’s hands to his. But at the end of the day, Marinette was their guardian. So Duusu didn’t need an excuse to love her.
“H-hi! Félix has been good to you, I hope?” Marinette chirped, sending Félix a look that he did NOT appreciate.
He knew it was her responsibility to ask this. He knew he didn’t exactly have a good track record with the Kwamis. But he couldn’t help but feel…. profoundly disrespected. He’d worshiped the ground Duusu floated over. He’d granted every wish, every absurd food request. He wasn’t a good person, or a good hero, but he took GOOD care of Duusu.
Fortunately, Duusu responded without hesitation, “He’s the best! Last night we watched movies! And ate berries!”
Defensively, Félix elaborated, “Gabriel never watched movies, apparently. And Duusu missed out on that era of history. Buried under 30 feet of snow in Tibet, I think. Duusu’s currently obsessed with animated movies, but last week it was sitcoms, before that it was Kagami’s k-dramas.” Félix was so glad to be out of the Sitcom era. Every night, Duusu would REFUSE to sleep before watching an episode of Friends with Amélie. It drove him a little bit crazy.
“Mr. Disney is a VISIONARY!!!” Duusu yelled joyfully, floating across the room in excitement. Marinette laughed.
“Duusu…. Not to be that guy,” Félix murmured, “but Walt Disney was long dead when they made Tangled ….” Because of course Félix's favorite Disney movie was Tangled. He was pretty damn sure it was most kids with shitty parents’ favorite Disney movie. He knew for a fact that it was Adrien’s, if his taste hadn’t changed at all in the last 10 years.
It’s a fundamental truth, alongside water being wet, the sky being blue, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng having ADHD.
Duusu looked at him with a skeptical expression, “then why’s his name on it, huh?”
“Capitalism,” Félix replied flatly, “The same reason why the Gabriel brand is still shitting out fashion lines like once a week.” Marinette, who hated Gabriel just as much as he did, raised an eyebrow.
Shoot… Maybe he shouldn’t have taken a jab at the (probably underpaid) fashion designers who work for Gabriel™ in front of the fashion designer. Oops.
“Humans and your silly little words!” Duusu responded, smiling wide. Yeah, Duusu didn’t know what that meant either. In their defense…. Félix was pretty sure they were still buried under 30 feet of snow during the cold war, too. And pretty much like every major historical event of the last two centuries. Blissful Ignorance.
Marinette watched the two of them bicker with a strange fondness. Seems like her question had been answered. “I’m going to put a pause on this before Félix starts… I don’t know, explaining the last 100 years of history or something. For the sake of my sanity.” She said, Tikki laughing at her apparent misery from behind her shoulder, “I already had history class today, thank you.”
“Fair enough,” Félix nodded, “You wanted to talk to me about something?”
“Yes!” Her enthusiasm radiated through every step as she pulled down a chart near her desk, one that Félix had assumed had to have been used at least once for scheming to win over Adrien or obsessively documenting his schedule. Now it was being used for obsessively documenting Akuma victims. “As you know, the new butterfly Holder, Chrysalis, is way more…. Unpredictable than Gabriel ever was. He had this habit of akumatizing the same few people over and over again.”
“Marinette…. Did you REALLY fight the pigeon guy… 106 times?” Félix asked, his mouth agape. Duusu merely laughed. Tikki shot them both a glare.
“Yeah, and I might’ve missed one, honestly,” Marinette shrugged, “For an artist, he was…. really uncreative. Then again, Mr. Ramier is just such a sweet, empathetic guy. He loves those pigeons, and most Parisians…. Don't.”
“Pigeons actually make for wonderful conversationalists,” Duusu said casually, “They are kind, a down-to-earth humble bunch.”
“Wait, can you actually talk to birds?” Marinette asked.
“Yeah, I’m a bird.” Duusu responded incredulously, as she began to create a nest in Félix's hair. Completely unbothered, Félix amended, “I also like Pigeons. I feel a kinship with them. The more people hate them, the more I like them.”
There was a lot Marinette could unpack with that statement, but she didn’t seem to focus on it. “Disregarding poor, poor Mr. Ramier, what I’m trying to get at is that Chrysalis is clever. If we want to get an upper hand against her, we need to beat her at her own game. Don’t you think?”
“Thinking like a villain, I like it,” Félix smiled, “Took you long enough.”
“Oh, shut up, will you?” Marinnette crossed her arms, as Tikki, still looming over her shoulder like a spector, gave him a disapproving look. “It’s not evil to try and prevent people you love from getting hurt.”
“Hmm-hmm.” But stealing the Miraculous to protect my cousin is evil, apparently.
“So I did some digging in the Grimoire, and I think I found an answer,” Marinette shifted, pulling out a musty looking, probably disease ridden, book from her drawer, “Apparently, the Miraculous with a power most similar to the Butterfly is the Peacock’s, in the sense that Akumas and Amoks operate under similar principles.”
“Oh, so you need me to do something, then? Because if you’re asking me to create a Senti, I will clock you.”
“I know you would, and I’d never force you to violate your principles like that. Even without senti beings, your miraculous is still one of the most versatile in the Miracle Box. You’re plenty useful without it. You’re not just Ryuko’s trophy husband, despite insisting that’s all you're useful for.”
Excuse you, Marinette, but being Ryuko’s little white boy trophy husband was all he needed in this life, actually.
“And if you do this for us, it will mean Chat Noir won't babysit you during patrols anymore.” Her words were sharp, “And I know how much you want that. Given how often you complain about it.”
Félix's heartbeat picked up, “how the hell do you know that I complain about that?”
“You regularly vent to my BOYFRIEND about how annoying he is, Felix.”
“Point taken,” Félix sighed, “But he is, objectively, quite annoying. It’s like he thinks annoying me is funny, or something. Sometimes it is, but the feather puns are seriously pushing it.”
“Yeah…” Marinette’s eyes wandered away from him, “He does. He finds it, um, profoundly funny.” Oh, of course he does. “Maybe if you stopped reacting to it, he’ll stop doing it. That’s how I got him to stop flirting with me. But that’s not the point. If you want a list of pointers to get Chat to stop annoying you, I have a comprehensive list that I made for Scarabella a few months back. I can forward it to you.”
“What? Why? You know what… I’d appreciate that, thanks.”
Duusu merely snickered, nestled comfortably in his hair. He probably looked seriously stupid, but as long as Duusu was comfortable, he didn’t really care.
“And… I’ll talk about him, about the feather thing. That’s not… that’s not acceptable. Cut him some slack, though, he doesn’t know. My running theory is that Chat Noir is starved for attention at home. He reacts to physical affection like he’s been deprived of it for years. And I’ve never heard him talk about his parents… I'm pretty sure one of them is dead. He was just… not acting right on Mother’s Day last year. Which explains…. why he can be so annoying.” Marinette’s gaze fell to the floor, but stranger still was Tikki's, which was borderline unreadable. Did she know Chat’s identity? Was she burdened with the lore of his childhood? Was Chat Noir secretly some tortured soul?
“You’re very good to him, Marinette.” Félix said. Marinette and Tikki both looked at him as if he had just spoken in some ancient language, “What? Is it so hard for you to believe that I could be nice? Your relationship with him is sweet. But if you reciprocate his affection and break my cousin’s heart, I will parade your head on a stick and hang it from the Louvre. Just saying.”
“And if you break Kagami’s heart, I promise the police will never find your body. Remember that her first friend, her first crush, wasn’t you, but me.” Using Kagami’s bisexual awakening as leverage? Now that’s foul.
Tikki, who’d been silent up until now, rose from Marinette’s shoulders, “I can assure you, you’d both sooner kill each other than betray your partners. So, like, please don’t. It will stain Marinette’s carpet.” She laughed, weakly, “And besides, Chat Noir has a girlfriend.”
“Right.” They both responded.
Marinette’s eyes shifted towards Tikki, “Wait, how do you know that Chat Noir has a girlfriend?”
“It’s…. A K-kwami power!” Now that was the most blatant lie Félix had heard in his entire life. And his father had said he’d loved his son once in an interview. So he knew blatant lies. ”I thought Plagg told you that! Marinette… how about you continue telling Félix about your plan, hm?” Tikki asked, as she returned to her perch on her shoulder.
“YEAH, that!” Marinette near-yelled, “Basically, a trait that the Kwami of Transmission and the Kwami of Emotion share is the ability to read the emotions of people, right? That’s how Hawkmoth knew who to akumatized, he sensed their anger! But Nooroo’s power exchanges range and depth for the ability to communicate at a distance, almost like a telephone line. Meanwhile, Duusu’s power can pick up the emotions of hundreds of people at once!”
Duusu perked up at the sound of his name, floating down to curl up behind his neck. Duusu’s eyes locked with Marinette’s in an expression uncharacteristic of the dramatic, friendly Kwami. He was looking at her like she’d said something seriously wrong. Félix couldn’t sense Duusu’s emotions but could feel him quivering up against his skin. Why, though?
“So, you’re suggesting I do that?” Félix asked, pensively. He was aware of this power, but nonetheless hesitated when it came to using it, for several reasons. For one, it felt seriously invasive. When his father had control over his ring, he could get a good read of Félix's emotions and used that against him at nearly every occasion. So out of principle, Félix rarely activated the power, and when he did, it was only to pick up on the emotions from those he was talking to. And only to pick up on things he’d otherwise miss due to his chronic inability to read social cues.
“If we found people in distress before Chrysalis, then we could really crack down on Akumatized victims, don’t you think? Maybe, we could even catch her! So, I was thinking, instead of going on patrol, you just did that instead? You help people behind the scenes, while the rest of us deal with the Akumas. Win-Win, right?”
Tikki seemed to mirror Duusu in terms of her reaction. Had Marinette not run this by Tikki before proposing it to him? Really? Her eyes were locked on Duusu as he curled further into himself. Judging solely by Duusu’s reaction, Félix was starting to think this might not be a great idea.
“Y-you’re definitely onto something Marinette…. But I don’t know…. It might not be… a good idea.”
Marinette’s expression seemed to darken, “Why not? If Chrysalis can do it, why can’t you? It’s a lot less work than going on patrol.”
Félix felt cornered. Because on one hand, Marinette’s idea was good. Statistically speaking, it really could save many people. And it did seem better than enduring Chat Noir every night. On the other hand, the way Tikki was looking at Duusu… the way Duusu seemed to so quickly retreat into herself made him reconsider.
“And besides…. um…. After everything with the…. um red moon and stealing the Miraculous… don’t you… um… owe it to the people of Paris? To help them, I mean. Everyone in this city has gone through so much. And you have the power to ease their burden.”
Oh…. Okay… then.
A panicked thought entered Félix's mind: If he disagreed, would Marinette find a new Peacock holder? Because admittedly, he was perhaps the most useless and controversial person on Team Miraculous. If she wanted to, she could go find a new, blindly obedient, peacock holder… one who’d make sentimonsters. One who would use their abilities to the fullest. One who wasn’t dead weight.
“Okay, I’ll do it.” Félix sighed, admitting defeat, “On the condition that I can stop whenever I’d like. I don’t need to keep the ability activated at all times. I do not want to strain Duusu like that.”
By this point, it was impossible to ignore Tikki’s expression. It was as if she’d swallowed a whole ass lemon. Sour. And funnily enough, it didn’t seem to be directed at him. Without a word, Duusu retreated into the claustrophobic confines of his pocket.
Marinette nodded, “Of course, Of course! Your powers, your rules!” She smiled, that classic cheerful Marinette smile. “I trust you, Felix! You’re going to do great.”
She trusts him? Now that was hard to believe.
“Thank you, Marinette. I’ll try it out tomorrow and I’ll keep you posted on how it goes.” He said curtly. He needed to get out of here, not for himself but for Duusu. He could just tell something about this conversation had set Duusu off.
“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” Marinette, who was probably picking up on the bad vibes too, all things considered, maintained a neutral expression, “It's getting late. I don’t want you to miss out on dinner.” Her voice was meek, mildly embarrassed.
“Yes, Duusu might lose her mind if she misses out on dinner.” He responded, as if Duusu was not already losing her mind, curled up in the fetal position, hugging the cologne-scented fabric of his pocket.
As he got up from his chair and faced the exit, Félix made eye contact with Marinette’s cat-themed (ironic) calendar. In red sharpie, a date was circled. Adrien’s birthday, alongside it, the scribbled face of a puppy, labeled, “ADRIEN’S 15th + GOLDIEBUG COMES HOME!!!! <3”
He just had to make it until then.
----
Félix had left, as the sky turned from blue to a soft orange.
Distracted by her sewing machine, Marinette was oblivious to Tikki, plopped flatly on her bed. Panicking, because unlike Marinette, Tikki could feel the rage, the fear emanating from Duusu as Marinette made her request. The abject horror when Félix accepted it.
This could go so horribly, horribly wrong, and it was Tikki’s responsibility as Marinette’s elder, friend, and lifelong companion to tell her why. But Tikki wasn’t sure how. The fact that it involved Félix was not helping either.
“Marinette….”
The repetitive hum of Marinette’s sewing machine ceased, as she spun around on her chair to face Tikki. Her eyes were wary and tired, as they often were ever since her ascension to Guardian of the Miraculous. Even when she was in a good mood, or spending time with Adrien, the exhaustion in her eyes never fully disappeared. Those bright cheerful eyes that Tikki knew when she’d first met Marinette were, truthfully, as good as gone. Damn you, Fu.
Tikki floated up to Marinette, resting in her palms. Despite Tikki being a god as old as existence itself, she couldn’t help but feel safe and protected in Marinette’s hands. Marinette, who had endured so much. Marinette, who was still so young.
She yawned, “sorry, Tikki. Is the sound of my sewing machine keeping you awake?”
Tikki curled into herself, “um… no. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”
Marinette tried to smile, “O-oh? Well, the floor is yours Tikki! You know I always value what you have to say.” Marinette said, her voice fond.
“I’m worried about the plan. With Felix,” She murmured, softly. Sitting on Marinette’s hand like this, she could feel her heartbeat. The beautiful hum of life. Of vitality. Of creation. More than anything, she’d love to listen to that sound forever. It was much more pleasant than this conversation.
Marinette raised a nervous eyebrow, “how so? Do you think he’s untrustworthy? I still think he’s untrustworthy but he’s the only one who can do it and… and… and!” She’s babbling as usual, Tikki thought fondly. “I just… I can’t imagine asking someone else to do it. I’ve thought about asking for the Peacock back but…” She frowned, fear and exhaustion rising in her eyes as they drifted to a framed photo of her and Adrien. “He’s the one person I know… who would never, ever hurt Adrien. Is that selfish? To let him hold onto the Miraculous just for Adrien’s sake?”
Marinette had expected a pause from Tikki, to consider a thoughtful response, but instead she immediately sprang into a passionate one, “It’s not selfish. While I agree that his track record is questionable, I trust Duusu’s judgment. Duusu has always been thoughtful when choosing their fledglings and has been outspoken against holders who have abused their power. And I have reason to believe that Félix may be Duusu’s favorite holder. Just as you are mine.” Tikki smiled, nuzzling against Marinette’s palm. Marinette’s heartbeat slowed, and her posture relaxed.
“It is because I know Duusu loves him so much that this plan worries me.”
Marinette’s eyes widened, “What do you mean, Tikki?”
Tikki’s heart, metaphorically, dropped as she felt Marinettes’s heartbeat speed up again. The hum of her blood racing through the veins of her palm. Damn it all. Tikki’s wishes for Marinette were the same as Duusu’s. Happiness and comfort for their holders. At first this was easy for Marinette. She was a happy person by default and still ignorant to the more painful realities of the world. But over time it got harder and harder to make Marinette happy. Everyone around the both of them were trying to darken her holder’s light, and despite Tikki’s attempt to keep it going… it just kept getting harder. Now it was a struggle to simply keep her from panicking.
Hesitantly, Tikki continued, “I’ll answer your question with one of my own. Do you remember how Master Fu’s Miracle Box was designed?”
Marinette nodded, “of course, how could I forget?” She mumbled, a twinge of heartache and regret in her voice. Regret for losing Fu, or regret over what Fu put her through, Tikki couldn’t tell, “The Cat and the Ladybug are at the top, surrounded by the Fox, Butterfly, Peacock, Bee and Turtle.”
“The design of the Miracle Box was meant to signify the power of the Miraculous, with the five you just mentioned being some of the most powerful.”
Marinette’s eyes darted across her face, a human indication of confusion, Tikki thought. “What about the Rabbit? That one was at the bottom of the box.”
Tikki couldn’t help but smile at that. Not only was her young bug’s memory frighteningly sharp, but she was perceptive too, “That was by design. Flaunting the power of the Rabbit would draw attention to it. The grimoire was intentionally vague about its power, and almost all of the information about it is passed down orally by holders of the Rabbit Miraculous, who convene in the Burrow. Rabbit holders always get Kwagatamas before other holders, for the same reason. Writing that information down would doom us. We decided to keep up a front that it is a weaker Miraculous, because it serves to protect it.”
Marinette nodded in understanding, “That’s actually quite clever!”
“Yes, Fluff is almost as clever as Trixx, when the time calls for it. The same goes for Sass, as well.” Tikki mused fondly, “As I was saying, the box is meant to designate power but also the potential burden on the wielder. I’m sure you are well aware of the burdens that come with the Ladybug Miraculous.”
Marinette’s posture slouched against the chair, in an expression of resignation, “Of course.”
They both knew the burden of the Ladybug well. The limitless power of creation. Tikki was, in a sense, the world’s first fixer. Everyone looked to her, and by extension her holders, to solve all of their problems. To lead them into a better world. To be a paragon of all that was good and righteous. The pressure was crushing, especially for one as young as Marinette. It often left her holder’s more ladybug, more divine, than they were human. There is no room for humanity when you are charged with solving everyone’s problems.
It made Tikki afraid that someday, she might lose her Marinette. Beautifully human, flawed, Marinette.
Tikki sighed as she spoke, “Those burdens vary for each Miraculous. For example: The Miraculous of Protection. Often, protecting others comes at the expense of yourself. I’m sure you’ve noticed how often Carapace throws himself directly in the line of fire, or how he’s often been heavily reliant on your Miraculous cure for healing. It is not because Nino is impulsive, he’s not like Chat Noir, but wielding his Miraculous means putting yourself second. You’ve also seen how much Alya struggles with lying to people she loves, despite using a Miraculous dependent on illusions, or lies. It affects her mental state: the way she sees herself. I’d even argue it makes her depressed, sometimes. And Zoe… Have you noticed how often she tends to stagnate? Like, how she tends to struggle when it comes to moving forward? ”
Marinette nodded, “Yeah. I think Zoe is afraid. Afraid of being hurt. Afraid of things going wrong. And sometimes, that fear stops her from moving forward.” She looked longingly at her bulletin board, which housed photos of each of her friends. Alya, who was crushed by her lies. Nino, whose desire to protect left him beaten and bruised. Zoe, who had so many big, beautiful dreams, but was too afraid to follow any of them. Her heart sank.
Tikki hummed in agreement, “but did it occur to you that she wields the Miraculous with the power to paralyze? And her poor sister. It might be difficult to acknowledge, but Chloe was so close to changing. But if you think about what happened…. Was she not paralyzed by her desire for the Bee Miraculous, for your approval? It stopped her from moving forward.”
Tikki’s thoughts on Chloe Bourgeois were… complicated. She was both her own undoing and a tragic victim of circumstances. She both irreparably hurt her holder, as a result of being irreparably hurt herself. It wasn’t fair.
“What about the Butterfly? What about Gabriel?” Marinette seemed to recoil, like an afraid child at the mere mention of his name. Wordlessly, Tikki cursed him. It was a good thing, for Gabriel, that Kwamis couldn’t die. Otherwise, she would have given him a piece of her mind. Nobody hurts her baby bug, or Plagg’s kitten, (or even Duusu’s Fledgling) and gets away with it.
“The Miraculous of Transmission…. Its original intent was to inspire change. Positive Change.” Despite her efforts to conceal it, Tikki could hear the fury in her voice. Judging by Marinette’s expression, she could hear it too. “ Nooroo’s best holders have been those people who are self-aware, introspective, and aware of their flaws. People who want to become better people. Caterpillars who wish to become Butterflies. With Nooroo’s help, his holders have become well-rounded, kind, and lovely people. Team players who fight not for themselves, but for the good of others. That is, if they bother to listen to his advice.”
“And Gabriel didn’t do that, did he?” Marinette asked, her voice still weak.
“Of course he didn’t,” Tikki laughs humorlessly, “the problem with Nooroo’s power is that there are so many things you could try and change, so many problems with this world that are worth fixing. Fixating so much on one can lead to horrific outcomes for Nooroo’s holders. It can lead to obsession…. Or even villainy. That’s what happened to Gabriel. He was so fixated on one problem, Emilie’s death, that he caused many more problems. Problems that were his undoing.”
The worst part of all of this was that knowing Nooroo, he still probably loved Gabriel. Not in a way that was healthy, of course, but that was just how Nooroo was. He managed to love even the most deplorable of humanity. It made Tikki feel sick to even think about it, “a good Butterfly is one who understands that there are certain truths in this world that cannot be tampered with. Instead of focusing on obtaining power or playing god, a successful Butterfly focuses on the small things that they can change. And all those small acts of goodness pile up into a better world.”
“The Butterfly Effect…” Marinette murmured.
“Precisely. Nooroo is the kindest of all the Kwamis. So selfless. But finding similarly selfless holders is just… well, it’s difficult.”
Marinette’s expression shifted into something resolute. The divine face of a leader, more Ladybug than Marinette. “We’ll save him, Tikki. I promise you.”
Tikki shuddered.
But I don’t want to lose you in the process Marinette….
Tikki smiled, a lovely fake smile, “I know you will.”
“But what does this have to do with Duusu and Felix?” Marinette asked, “What's the Peacock’s burden?”
“As you have probably surmised, the Peacock is one of the most coveted Miraculouses for its power to create life. Second only to yours, Chat Noir, and Bunnyx’s Miraculous, the Peacock is the most coveted, the strongest, and it carries one of the greatest burdens.”
People had been fighting over the Peacock Miraculous ever since it was forged. Even within the order of guardians, Tikki had watched people fight over it. The ability to create life, and play god, was enticing and impossible to resist, even for the devotees of the temple. Poor Duusu had been fought over, valued and used only for her power, ever since she gained her corporeal form. If Tikki had to guess, this was why Duusu latched onto Félix so fast despite his… unlikable personality. He coveted the power of Emotion, simply to keep it safe. To keep Duusu and her creations safe. He cared for her, not just her power. Had it been the first time Duusu had ever felt safe?
Marinette’s face paled, “Like… how its power killed Emilie Agreste and C- … M-Mr. Fathom?”
Tikki shook her head, “No. That was an exception to the rule. When a Miraculous is damaged, anyone who uses it is subjected to the Kwami’s pain. The wounds on the Miraculous become your own. That could have happened to any Miraculous, not just Duusu’s. The severity depends on the severity of the damage, and it seems like the Peacock was… in very bad shape. I suspect neither Emilie Agreste nor Mr. Fathom were in possession of the Peacock long enough for them to experience the natural effects.”
“And what about Gabriel?”
Tikki sighed, “He was so blinded by his desires that I doubt he was kept awake by it. He felt no remorse, Marinette.” If he had felt any remorse, he wouldn’t have asked a 14-year-old girl to bury his crimes under a pile of lies. Because in the process, Marinette had just about buried herself.
“Isn’t Félix similar, in that regard?”
Tikki had a feeling she knew what Marinette had left unsaid, I don’t think Félix is kept awake at night by what he did to ME.
“No. Not at all,” Tikki’s response was steadfast and confident. This was less out of confidence for Félix and his strong moral character, but instead it was out of respect for Duusu. Duusu wouldn’t choose, much less adore, a holder that was cruel and apathetic. Her running theory was that Félix was just… repressed? Severely. He probably had a lot of feelings brewing just under the surface, and was fully capable of empathy, but suppressed those feelings just to make it out alive. Marinette did the same thing, after all.
She looked to Marinette, who stared back thoughtfully, “If I had to describe the Peacock’s burden… Imagine if you were to enter a crowded gymnasium, and everyone there was upset, angry or in need of your help? What would you do, Marinette?” Tikki already knew the answer.
Marinette didn’t hesitate, “I’d try to help them.”
“I know you would, and that’s the problem.” Tikki said, repressing the urge to scream or cry over just how good her holder was, and how that goodness would be her undoing, “ You can’t.”
“But I’d try.”
God, Marinette is so doomed. And it’s Tikki’s fault. If not for her, none of these burdens would rest on her shoulders.
Tikki tried to maintain an unbothered, steady tone, “And what if you couldn’t? Would it keep you awake at night? If a Peacock holder wants to help people, that often means using its power. Creating sentimonsters. Would you be kept awake by every being you create and snap away in the name of helping people? You are either kept awake by the unanswered calls of people you can’t help, or you are kept awake by all the innocent life you have brought into the world and then stole away.”
“I… but Félix would never use his powers! I didn’t ask him to do that.” Marinette rose from her chair, reaching for her notes about the plan. She re-read them frantically, just to check and make sure.
“Marinette,” Tikki called, trying to regain her holder’s attention, “there is just no winning with the Peacock Miraculous. Duusu, more than anyone else, knows this. They have seen what happens to kind, empathetic people who use the Peacock.”
“What… what happens to them?” Marinette probably had a good guess.
Tikki frowned at the recollection bubbling up in her ancient mind, “I…. well…. It happened before, to Duusu’s favorite holder, before she met Felix. A woman named Agnes Mercer. You probably haven’t read about her; her deeds were not recorded. The only one who remembers her now is Duusu himself. I never met her, but I know of what happened to her. Because… Duusu was never the same after they met her.”
Perhaps out of a protective instinct for the Kwamis that she had sworn to guard, Marinette flinched, “Something happened to her? Something happened to Duusu?”
“Yes. Agnes was followed by misfortune for her entire life. She was born in Europe, around 645 years ago. During that time, a great illness swept across Europe, bringing sorrow so great that it reached our temple in Tibet. Duusu heard the cries of Agnes, newly orphaned, and escaped the temple to be her companion. Duusu loved her as if she were his daughter, from then on. It was Agnes who taught Duusu to truly love humanity.
Together, the two of them tried to bring hope to the people. To do this, she used the full power of the Peacock, experiencing the feelings of everyone around her as if they were her own. But… there was nothing she or Duusu could do to heal the people or save them from their sorrow. People kept dying, and she felt all of that pain. Agnes created so many Sentimonsters, hoping that one of them would have the power to heal the sick. And when it didn’t work, she’d destroy them. And Agnes was not like Gabriel, she mourned the loss of all of them. Eventually, Duusu convinced Agnes of the futility of all of it. But she never stopped listening to the cries of the people.
I don’t know all of the details, but Duusu briefly left her side to return to the Temple and when she returned… All she found was the brooch on the shore of their favorite beach. Agnes drowned herself. That is what the Peacock can do to people.”
Marinette didn’t say a word, but her response was clear by the activation of her tear ducts. A human response to pain. Physical or emotional. The tears rolling down Marinette’s face made Tikki wish she hadn’t said anything. Maybe it wasn’t worth it. Maybe Tikki didn’t care about Duusu or her wayward fledgling, or what suffering might come his way. Maybe he deserved it. All she cared about now were the tears rolling down Marinette’s face, and how desperate she was to make them stop.
“Duusu was never the same after that. He’s taken steps to protect his Fledglings by reducing the empathic powers of the Peacock to be less dangerous. Now, it only picks up the emotions of those in the wielder's immediate vicinity. But they can still call upon the ability to pick up the emotions of an entire city’s worth of people, when necessary.
That is what you just asked Félix to do. I could sense Duusu’s distress. The idea of putting Félix through that… it scared them.”
Marinette’s breath sped up, and her eyes began to dart across the room, telltale signs of panic, “oh my god I need to message him. I need to apologize to Duusu! I need to stop him. Ohmygodohmygod.”
“Marinette. Panicking will not help. I’m not saying this to tell you that it’s a terrible idea. Agnes was living through what you humans call the plague . She was as good as doomed as soon as she touched the Peacock Miraculous. Félix isn’t doomed. With your help, attention, and careful guidance, I think this could work. I am just asking you to be cautious.”
“I’m still going to message him!” Marinette babbled, scrambling for her phone.
“Be mindful of how you word it, Marinette.” Tikki said, frowning, “Because, I hate to say it but, earlier you guilt tripped him. Or maybe hold off on it entirely. Félix seems like a prideful boy, he might see you telling him to stop at the last minute as a sign that you don’t trust him, or that you’ll take his Miraculous.”
Marinette’s panicked eyes locked on hers, as she accidentally rammed her elbow into the outermost edge of her sewing machine, the whirring noise beginning anew, “What…?” She turned, frantically pressing every button on the machine before the sound ceased. The small pocket she had been working on, permanently sewed together. She’d have to start over.
“You told him that he owed it to the people of Paris. Because of what he did in the past.” Tikki confessed, “And after that, he stopped contesting your plan and just went along with it. I know you didn’t mean to do it, but you sort of backed him into a corner. So messaging him now… might only fan the flames of whatever he’s feeling. I’d check back in on him tomorrow, not tonight.”
“Oh… I… I did that, Didn’t I?” Marinette’s laugh was dry, humorless and self-deprecating. She slammed her head into her palms in frustration, as Tikki watched on.
“Marinette. Don’t blame yourself, okay?” Tikki feigned a reassuring smile, “At the end of the day, he’s still hurt you way more than you’ve ever hurt him. Worst case scenario, consider yourselves even.”
-----
Félix is starting to think that Duusu really doesn’t like Frozen 2, which is weird, because the first one had left them absolutely inconsolable. For like, a full day.
To some degree, he understood why they didn’t. The second movie was clearly influenced by the corporate machine stifling creative freedom, and simply didn’t live up to the hype built by the first one. The more times he watched it, the more flaws he noticed in the plot.
The two of them were curled up under the blankets of his bed. He didn’t have a TV, which was fine because his laptop screen was more than big enough for Duusu. But tonight, she just didn’t seem interested. Even after making Popcorn and picking out all of her favorite fruits for her nightly fruit bowl, her smile still didn’t reach her eyes. Worse still, Duusu barely responded to the musical numbers. Normally, the musical numbers in Disney movies had Duusu floating around in a drunken haze, perhaps in their strange attempt at dancing. (And he’d take this to his grave, but once, when he was certain nobody was home…. Well he may have got up and danced along. And sang. Okay, it was more like he BELTED. What? He’s a theater kid without a stage. In his defense, Friend Like Me from Aladdin had an intoxicating effect on people like that.)
Not even the one with the dancing Reindeer made Duusu laugh, a scene that he couldn’t get through without calling Adrien over from his room to watch. Because of course the RIDICULOUS NSYNC-style reindeer love ballad was his favorite. It was like a weapon specially catered to make Adrien laugh. But even with Adrien shedding whole-ass TEARS over it, Duusu barely responded at all.
Had he really managed to kill the magic of Disney for him by revealing Walt Disney had died 57 years ago? Because if he wasn’t laughing over the reindeer ballad then there was something WRONG.
After Adrien left, still giggling hysterically to himself, Félix turned to Duusu, “Do you want me to turn it off, Duusu?”
“Oh! Um, no! It’s good… it’s cute!” They responded, in their best imitation of their normally chipper voice.
“It’s not as good as the first one, is it?” Félix frowned, as he picked up and cupped him in his hands, “It was a bit of a letdown, I’ll admit. If you’re disappointed, we can just rewatch Tangled again.”
“No, no… it’s not that! I love watching movies with you! I don’t care what we watch as long as we watch it together.” Duusu said, nodding as if to confirm it to themself.
“Alternatively, we could put on a really bad movie, and make fun of it instead?” Félix suggested, “Or we can just go to bed early tonight. There’s always tomorrow.”
“I think I’d like that.” Duusu responded, “But I’d rather not sleep on my bed tonight.”
“After all the yapping and grief that you gave me about it, and all I went through to get you a doll-sized mattress and bed, you won’t even use it? You’re a sick little thing, aren’t you?!”
Duusu didn’t laugh. They didn’t say anything at all.
“Ugh, C’mere, you can take a pillow. Just don't shed feathers on my bed.”
Duusu eventually settled into the pillow, as they noticed how small Félix looked when hiding under the cover of his blankets. He was still so young. Duusu’s stomach churned, but he tried to push it away, the steadiness of Félix's breathing settling him into some facsimile of peace.
“Good night, Fledgling.”
“G’night,"
That night, Duusu dreamt of the last holder that had loved him like this. A strong and earnest love.
It wasn’t a very good dream.