Chapter Text
Heavy rain poured down, the droplets crashing against the window aggressively. Marinette watched the sky grow darker as she reached over to turn on her lamp.
She mumbled along to the music playing in her earbuds, roughly sketching a new dress design, "Je te laisserai des mots, en dessous de ta porte."
The warm glow from the desk lamp helped her feel cozy at her messy desk. Her dormitory room was small, but it was enough for her — at least for her first year. It was handy living on campus, and she knew that if she stayed living at home or lived alone she would never meet new people. Though, she hoped that by second year her and her best friend Alya could rent an apartment... if Alya hadn't moved in with her boyfriend by then. At least Alya was in the same dormitory — the 'poor' dormitory, as they would joke. The university had two different dormitories with majorly drastic budget differences.
The other dormitory was beautiful, and even had apartment options instead of just a singular room. It's where they thankfully got to hang out now and then, as their friend Chloé from school lived there. Of course she did, of course blonde, rich, beautiful Chloé Bourgeois would live only in the best dormitory with all her other rich friends. Marinette would be lying if she said she didn't resent her slightly for it — resent all of them for it. None of them had ever worked a day in their lives, yet got everything handed to them. Meanwhile, Marinette had to work at her parents bakery from the age of 13 to save up money. She did her best not to dwell on it, that was life. It just rubbed her the wrong way watching all those rich white kids live so carefree whilst she had to work her ass off.
Her phone buzzed, a text from Alya who had sent her an article. Expecting some celebrity gossip, she scoffed and opened the article.
Emilie Agreste dead, aged 40.
Her eyes widened as she scrolled through the article, digging for answers, but there weren't any.
Details remain scarce regarding Emilie Agreste, wife of renowned designer Gabriel Agreste and mother of Adrien Agreste. The family has always maintained a notoriously private life, and no official statement has yet been released. Sources close to the Agreste household claim that both Gabriel and Adrien are 'grieving privately', though there is little information on the circumstances surrounding Emilie’s death.
Speculation has already begun circulating online, with conspiracy theories about the family’s enigmatic history appearing across social media platforms. Despite her absence from public life, Emilie Agreste’s influence on Parisian fashion and the city’s cultural scene has been widely acknowledged. Fans and colleagues alike have expressed shock and condolences, though most are left wondering what really happened to the woman who seemed to exist just out of reach of the public eye.
The Agreste family’s silence has only fuelled further questions about their private lives. As Paris watches and waits, Gabriel and Adrien’s mourning remains a quiet, unspoken presence — a mystery that may never be fully explained.
Marinette frowned deeply. It was Gabriel Agreste who got her into fashion, so she was no stranger to keeping up with the Agreste family when she could. They weren't celebrities, they were above that. They were France's modern-day royalty. With help from Gabriel, Emilie influenced the entire fashion scene. Everything she wore looked effortlessly elegant, everything he designed was magnificent and unique. To see her biggest inspiration be tainted by tragedy, it wasn't nice... but she wondered for a second how their son must be feeling. Adrien Agreste, voted Europe's sexiest model the day he reached adulthood, no longer had a mother. She didn't know much about him, only that they were the same age and that he was childhood friends with Chloé. However, she knew she would be a complete mess if she lost her own mother.
Her phone buzzed again.
alya: crazy, right?
She thought for a moment before replying.
marinette: it's sad :(
i hope the family is okay
alya: i want to know what they're hiding honestly
people don't just die out of nowhere
marinette: uhmmm...
yes they do
alya: well duh
but not THE emilie agreste
Marinette sighed before gently putting down her phone, not interested in whatever conspiracy theory Alya was about to create. Sure, the random death of Emilie agreste felt... ominous, but it wasn't their business — or anyone's business besides the family.
The wind howled as the rain suddenly got even more hostile, as if it were alive and had a mind of its own. Hesitantly, she picked her phone back up to check her weather app, but strangely enough it wasn't even forecast rain...
She shrugged it off with a yawn, deciding it may be time to go to bed.
The next morning, the rain was still continuing to crash down. All the news outlets were either talking about Emilie Agreste or the mysterious 'supernatural' storm. Her classes were cancelled due to the extreme weather, and she wasn't going to complain about it. She almost felt like the whole situation was... freaky, in a way. As if the craze of Emilie Agreste's life and fame had reincarnated into a storm itself. It wasn't crazy to have rain in Paris, but this just left her with a weird feeling — a wrong feeling.
As she chilled in her bed watching old episodes of Desperate Housewives on her laptop, there was a knock on her door.
"Come in," She answered.
The door opened to reveal one of her classmates, Lila, "Hey!"
She was from a small town in Italy, coming to Paris to chase her dreams of becoming a huge designer. Like Marinette, she was also inspired by Agreste. Lila Rossi was unbelievably gorgeous, the most perfect tanned skin and long auburn locks. She was definitely popular with the boys, too, which wasn't a surprise.
"Oh, hey Lila," Marinette smiled, "How are you?"
Lila gave a dramatic groan before sitting on the edge of the bed, "I'm devastated! Emilie Agreste? Literally, I'm heartbroken. That poor family."
"I know," Marinette sighed as she closed her laptop, "She was such a legend, I still can't believe it."
Lila pouted, "There go our plans of working with her one day..."
Marinette nodded, "Alya is already making a million different conspiracy theories about it—"
"Oh there are sooo many theories online," Lila interrupted, "Some are saying she was murdered, some are saying she isn't even dead."
"God, I wish they'd just leave the family alone whilst they're grieving," Marinette shook her head, "Let the woman rest in peace."
"I know, right?" Lila nodded, but it felt like she was just saying what Marinette wanted to hear.
They continued discussing random things about class and fashion projects before Lila soon left. Marinette was about to happily get back to her show until she got a sharp pain in her right temple.
"Fuck," She whispered, getting up and going to her bathroom to look for some painkillers for what she suspected was the start of a migraine.
When she looked on her bathroom counter, she noticed a strange little box — a box that certainly didn't belong to her, and wasn't there earlier.
The pain shot through her skull, making her wince. She picked up the box, it was wooden with red ancient-looking symbols. She slowly opened it, and there were a pair of black stud earrings. She had never seen them before, she definitely wouldn't have bought such simple jewellery — totally not her style. Before she knew it, they began to glow red. They got brighter and brighter, causing her to flinch at a sudden flash of red light. Once she opened her eyes, she was no longer in her bathroom.
She had to be dreaming, right?
She was surrounded by stars and constellations, mesmerised by what she was witnessing — what was she witnessing? Some cosmic event, maybe? A large ethereal creature floated in front of her. Too many eyes, too many limbs. Red and supernatural — unnatural. Was it even glowing, too?
"Hello, human."
It sounded like it had multiple feminine voices, and it sent a shiver down her spine.
She was dreaming. There was no other explanation. It was just a very unnerving and very realistic dream.
When she didn't respond, the pain hit her again, making her cry out. The pain was very real.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," The creature taunted, "Weren't you taught to respect your elders?"
"What?" She furrowed her brows, lost.
She wondered how someone was supposed to react when randomly facing some mystical cosmic event.
The creature tutted, showing a hint of impatience, "Wow, humans have become so arrogant — you people used to worship us."
"Worship who?" Marinette asked, not knowing where to look, "Who — what are you?"
It gave a harsh smirk, as if it were holding in a laugh, "Well... depends who you ask. Some called us gods, some called us magic, some called us... demons. The truth is, we come from the stars. You know, those things you'd see in the sky every night if you didn't stupidly pollute your planet."
"Ah yes, the star gods want to meet me," Marinette joked, "They must be thrilled."
"The stars have chosen you, Marinette," It nodded, this time with a warm smile, "The stars have been wronged. Somebody from your world has stolen from them, and they aren't pleased."
Marinette squinted, words laced with sarcasm, "How does one steal from the stars? I'd love to know."
"By using ancient rituals that do not belong to them," It shrugged, "You people are greedy. You know, your world was made for greatness. The stars aligned for all of you, you were all supposed to be happy. Some people didn't like that, and now you live in what I believe you call a patriarchy... that devours you all from within."
"Sounds about right," Marinette scoffed, "But that has... nothing to do with me."
It shook its head, "Oh, but it does, because you're perfect for the job. The stars had never aligned as perfectly as the exact moment you were born. However, you were not the only one. The stars never align the same way more than once. Each and every one of you had your own unique way of being born under the stars... but for whatever reason, when you were born, your star aligning was the exact same as his."
"What does that even mean? Perfect for what job?"
"Restoring balance within the universe," It grinned, raising its many arms, "If you fail, your species will continue as it has — rotting from its own hierarchy. It will burn from the inside out."
There was once again a flash of red light, and Marinette was back in her bathroom holding the weird box, except the creature had shrunk down and deformed to look less... creepy. It now had just one set of eyes, arms and legs. Still red, but much easier on the eyes. If anything, it was like a cute little animal.
Marinette questioned reality, not knowing what was real or a facade. Had she just hallucinated the whole thing, and was she still hallucinating now? Maybe it was a migraine symptom.
"My name is Tikki," It said, now with just one voice, "A pleasure to meet you, my chosen one."