Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 "What... who-" I slowly comes into consciousness in darkness, I... died didn't they?

Is this what the afterlife is? Pitch Black? God getting hit by a truck fucking sucks.

Great. So this is it. The afterlife? I’d imagined some kind of glowing ethereal place or at least a warm light guiding me somewhere peaceful. Instead, I’m stuck in pitch black. Honestly, if this is how the big guy upstairs welcomes people, God getting hit by a truck must’ve really messed things up.

I’d be more impressed if the afterlife came with some heavenly jazz or a comforting voice telling me it’s all going to be okay. But nope, just a void of nothingness and my own pathetic brain trying to make sense of it.

Suddenly, a flicker. A tiny pinprick of light flickers at the edge of my vision. Then another. The black starts retreating like a bad curtain being pulled back, and I blink, slowly, painfully, until shapes begin to form.

I’m in a room. Hospital. The sterile smell hits me before anything else. The beeping of machines is steady but intrusive, like some mechanical heartbeat. My entire body feels... weird. Like I’m trapped inside myself, lucid but heavy, as if gravity suddenly decided to double its grip.

Then comes the crying.

Soft. Raw. My own. But why? I try to stop, to swallow the tears, but they keep flowing, hot and uncontrollable.

A gentle voice cuts through the haze, soft and warm, soothing the sobs I didn’t know I was making. “Shhh, it’s alright, you’re safe now.”

I want to speak, to ask where I am, what’s happening, but the words refuse to come. My throat feels dry, my vocal cords frozen in place.

A kind voice speaks up, "Congrats, two twin daughters."

What? Did I just get reincarnated?

What isekai bullshit is this?

"What do you want to name them?" The nurse asks my new mom? Who looks strangely familiar.

"How about... Marilla and Marinette." She says lovingly looking at me and who I guess is my twin sister beside me, "Marilla and Marinette Dupain-cheng." 

Just like that, I burst out crying on purpose now.

Dupain-Cheng

Marinette Dupain-cheng.

Is my sister.

The same Marinette who would become ladybug, the same marinette who would be in paris, the same paris thats going to be terrorized by an emotion terrorist known as hawkmoth with akumatized villains almost every fucking day

What the actual fuck

What the actual fuck.

I can’t move. I can’t scream. I’m stuck in this squishy, useless baby body, blinking up at fluorescent lights like they hold the answers. They don’t. All they’re doing is burning this nightmare into my retinas. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Ladybug. That Ladybug. The one from the show, the one with the yo-yo and the supervillains and the endless amounts of property damage that never seems to faze anyone.

This isn't just reincarnation. This is reincarnation into a cartoon.

God got hit by a truck, and I got thrown straight into the middle of a fanfiction.

My limbs flail uselessly. I can hear Marinette beside me, my sister now, apparently, gurgling and cooing like everything is fine. Of course she’s fine. She doesn’t know what’s coming. The stress. The pressure. The miraculous. Chloe.

I don’t even know if I want to laugh or cry harder.

A nurse scoops me up with the practiced ease of someone who does this every day. I’m bundled tight, swaddled like a sentient burrito, and gently placed beside Marinette. She reaches out with one tiny, pudgy hand and lightly bops me on the nose.

I recoil on instinct. I don’t want to be cute. I want answers. I want a reset button.

But no. I’m here. In this universe. With these people. And there’s no escape.

I peer over at the woman, Sabine, it has to be. My new mother. She’s radiant, tired but glowing, her eyes full of love as she looks down at us. And next to her, Tom Dupain, beaming like someone just handed him a tray of freshly baked croissants and the meaning of life at the same time.

Yup. That’s them. The bakery. The house above it. The weird, almost slice-of-life moments that somehow coexisted with magical chaos. This is real.

And I’m a background character at best, a spare NPC at worst. The unnamed twin sister. The one who didn’t get the miraculous.

Unless…

Unless?

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

The narrative’s already twisted. Marinette’s never had a twin sister before. This isn’t just the show anymore. Something’s already changed.

And that means… anything could happen.

A tiny part of me, buried beneath the dread, dares to hope. Could I change things? Could I help?

But then I remember the timeline. The emotional torment Marinette goes through. The mental load. Adrien. The sheer level of denial that fuels every love square permutation. And let’s not forget Hawkmoth, Gabriel Agreste, the man powered by mood rings and wife issues, wrecking Paris every time someone stubs their toe wrong.

Can I even survive that?

How the hell does one prepare for being in a magical girl drama with inconsistent continuity and god-tier emotional manipulation?

The nurse speaks again, to no one in particular, “They’re perfect. So calm.”

Lady, I am not calm. I am screaming internally with the force of a thousand suns.

I glance again at Marinette, already dozing, her tiny fists curled under her chin like the literal cherub she is. She's going to be a hero. I'm going to be… what? The backup? The support character? The one who knows the future and can’t tell anyone without sounding insane?

No. Screw that.

If I’m here, I’m doing something. I’m not just going to sit by and watch her go through hell every episode. I’m going to stop Lila’s nonsense before it starts. I’m going to confront Adrien’s father the second I learn how to walk. I’m going to make sure Marinette knows she’s not alone.

Because if I’m stuck in this bizarre, pastel-colored fever dream of a world?

I might as well go full feral.

I’m Marilla Dupain-Cheng now.

And I am not going to let Paris burn.

Being a toddler fucking sucks. I sit in my crib trying my best grumpy face, Marinette just kept grabbing her nose or my foot randomly.

By now im two weeks old and can barely control my own body, CURSE BABY INSTINCTS!

Sabine calls me her 'grumpy girl.' I respect her for seeing the truth.

Marinette, on the other hand, is thriving. Somehow. She laughs at everything. A ceiling fan? Hilarious. Dad making goo-goo eyes? Comedy gold. She even managed to roll over once, and the adults lost their minds.

Meanwhile, I’m stuck trying to flex my tiny fingers into some sort of grip so I can one day grab a spoon and yeet applesauce across the kitchen like a warning shot to the universe.

At night, I lie in my crib, staring at the mobile spinning above me. It’s some pastel nightmare of bunnies and moons. I think about Paris. About the future. About how this adorable, bubbly creature next to me is going to grow up with the weight of the world on her shoulders, and I can’t even crawl yet, let alone warn her.

Tom sings to us sometimes. He has this deep, goofy voice that makes everything sound like a lullaby. Marinette adores it. I find it oddly soothing too, which is annoying. I’m trying to stay mad here. Mad and alert. But that man’s rendition of “Frère Jacques” hits different when you’ve been reincarnated and emotionally overwhelmed for fourteen straight days.

Then there’s the Miraculous box.

It hasn’t shown up yet, obviously. But it will. And when it does, I need to be ready. Somehow. I’ve got like eleven or twelve years to get my shit together, master basic motor skills, and figure out how to alter a timeline without screwing it up worse. Cool cool cool. No pressure.

I glance over at Marinette again. She’s chewing on a stuffed ladybug like it personally offended her.

God, she’s adorable.

And I’m going to protect her. Even if it means spending the next year learning how to walk with purpose.

Which… honestly, at this rate, could take that whole year.

My leg twitches uselessly.

“Curse this noodle body,” I mutter, or try to mutter. What actually comes out is a tiny, annoyed gurgle.

Sabine hears and coos, “Aw, is Marilla hungry?”

No. Marilla is furious. Marilla wants to punch a butterfly in the face. Marilla wants to stop HawkMoth before he turns half the school into cosplay villains.

But fine. Sure. Feed me mashed peas and wipe my chin.

For now.

I sit in my high chair just glaring at anyone who walks or sits in the bakery, im a year old now. Marinette is on the high-chair beside me just slamming her hands happily down.

jesus time is so slow-

Ive started to figure out a few words but I of couse I only said it at night...

I grin wide as Tom brings over some apple sauce, I'll do what a good daughter should as her first words and....

"Fuck!" I say with the widest, most innocent smile.

Tom freezes.

The applesauce, mid-air on the little plastic spoon, wobbles. For a second, I think gravity itself is trying to decide whether it wants to drop the spoon or the truth bomb I just lobbed into this sweet, innocent bakery.

Marinette bursts out laughing like I just pulled off the best joke in toddler history. She starts slamming her chubby fists on the tray like she’s cheering me on in a baby mosh pit. “Bah! Bahbahbah!”

Tom blinks. “Did… did she just say-?”

Sabine walks in from the kitchen carrying a tray of croissants and pauses mid-step. Her mom-sense tingling. “What happened?”

Tom slowly turns to face her. “Marilla just… said her first word.”

“REALLY?” Sabine lights up, clearly excited. “What did she say?”

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Looks at me. I grin harder.

Marinette lets out a wet raspberry.

Tom leans forward like he’s trying to convince himself he misheard. “Can you say it again, sweetie?”

"Fuck!" I say grinning wider as Sabine's smile drops.

Sabine just stares at me. The croissants tremble on the tray. Her mouth is open in that stunned, frozen mom expression, somewhere between a gasp and a threat. I can see the soul leaving her body. I don’t think she even blinked.

Marinette is in full baby riot mode now, waving her arms like I’ve summoned the gods of chaos. “Babababuh!” she cackles, delighted, probably thinking I summoned food or magic with the ancient tongue.

Sabine puts the croissants down very carefully. Tom is still holding the spoon of applesauce like he’s afraid to move.

“Tom,” she says slowly, like she’s trying not to spook a wild animal. “Did our daughter just drop the F-bomb?”

“I... uh.” He looks at me. I give him my best adorable baby face. Big eyes. Innocent smile. Pure toddler mischief. “I mean… maybe it was just… duck?”

“Duck doesn't start with an ‘F’, Tom.”

He looks like he wants to dissolve into flour and hide behind the mixing bowls.

“I can’t believe her first word is that.” Sabine kneels down to eye level with me. Her tone is sweet, but her soul is screaming. “Marilla, sweetie, where did you hear that word?”

I consider my options. Can’t exactly say from my past life as a reincarnated adult who’s seen the end of this world through badly written love triangles and butterfly-themed terrorism. Instead, I let out a small, proud, “Fuuuuuuuck!”

Marinette absolutely loses her mind. She’s laughing so hard she hiccups, tiny fists banging the high chair tray like she’s at a baby comedy club and I just killed it with my opening act.

Tom pinches the bridge of his nose. “She’s one year old, Sabine. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

“I hope she doesn’t know what she’s saying!” Sabine grabs a dish towel and starts furiously wiping Marinette’s drool from the tray like that’ll cleanse the air of profanity.

I take the opportunity to try again, softer this time. “Fuhhhh…fff-fffudge.” Yeah. That’s safer. A little cover story for when they start googling "baby swearing problems" at 2am.

Sabine breathes out. “Fudge. See? Maybe we just misheard.”

Tom nods quickly. “Right. Kids say weird sounds. Like… bapple. Or… gub.”

“Exactly.” She’s still giving me the Mom Look, but I can tell she wants to believe the lie. “Let’s just… keep an ear out.”

Too late. Damage done. They’re gonna be paranoid for weeks now. Every time I open my mouth, it’s going to be like defusing a bomb.

But I don’t care. Because I just took back a little bit of power. A small, inappropriate victory in this squeaky, pastel prison of toddlerhood. Let’s see Hawkmoth akumatize me now. I’m built different.

 "Bam! Bam!" I smack two dolls together as if they were fighting, I've now reached the amazing milestone of two years old, wow, so impressive.

Marinette is sitting nearby just playing with her own dolls while Im just having them fight since I have nothing to do, god I feel like im going to lose my mind as plot doesnt begin till marinette's 14 right? fuuuuck 12 more years to go.

I glance over at her. She looks so happy. So content. And I feel like I’m going to lose it.

Twelve. More. Years.

Twelve years until the actual plot kicks in. Twelve years until Hawkmoth, until Adrien, until kwamis and Miraculouses and half the city exploding every weekend.

I let one of my dolls fall dramatically. “Nooo, Gregor, you can’t die yet! You still have to confess to Reba!” Then I make the other doll do a spin-kick and scream, “I AM THE GOD OF PLASTIC WRATH!”

Marinette pauses and looks at me, blinking. “Mawa… you okay?”

I blink back. “Yeh,” I mumble.

She crawls over with her brush and her perfect, un-bloodied doll and gently holds it out to me. “Dis is Layla,” she says, smiling so wide I almost feel guilty. “She wanna be fwends wit yours.”

I look at her. Really look at her. Her soft black curls, her big baby-grey eyes, the way she always sits with her feet turned in like the floor personally offended her.

She’s just a kid.

A sweet, innocent kid.

And here I am, a reincarnated adult soul wrapped in a two-year-old meat sack, thinking about timelines and emotional terrorism and whether I can trick a kwami into giving me powers early.

I take a breath and look at my “god of plastic wrath,” whose arm is dangling by a thread.

“He… he doesn’t do friends,” I say quietly. “He only does vengeance.”

Marinette giggles and pushes Layla closer. “Dat okay. Layla give hugs.”

She makes Layla hug the vengeance doll.

I watch. I don’t move.

Something weird stirs in my chest. I think it might be my long-dead capacity for human warmth.

“Maybe,” I say, dragging out the word like it’s poison, “Gregor… maybe Gregor takes hugs now.”

“Yay!” Marinette squeals.

She climbs into my side of the mat, plops down beside me like she’s always belonged there, and starts brushing the tangle of Gregor’s yarn hair.

I just stare at her.

She doesn’t know who she’s going to become. She doesn’t know the weight that’s going to be dropped on her tiny, hopeful shoulders.

But right now? She’s just my sister.

And… maybe that’s enough for today.

I let my other doll fall with a dramatic thud. “Layla,” I say, shifting my voice to sound more heroic, “you have healed the vengeance in my soul.”

Marinette gasps and claps like I just wrote a masterpiece.

“Now we fight evil togedder!” she says.

And I smile.

A real one. Not the sarcastic kind I usually do when the adults aren't looking.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Togedder.”

"Happy Birthday!" Tom and Sabine shout as Tom uses a party popper.

The popping noise hurts my ears, but I can't help but smile anyways, its been a. fucking struggle.

Three years old now! Marinette sat beside me just as happy, Tom closed down the bakery for today to celebrate them.

But here I am. Still standing. Well… sitting. In a too-small chair with a cartoon bee on the backrest.

Marinette is beside me, giggling as a bit of streamer lands in her hair. She doesn’t try to pull it out, instead, she grabs another piece and pretends it’s a magic ribbon. She waves it at me and squeals, “You’re a frog now!”

“I’m a what?” I ask, voice slightly higher pitched than I’d like thanks to this cursed baby vocal range.

“A fwog!” she insists, pointing her chubby finger at me with such seriousness it makes Tom chuckle from across the room.

“Oh no,” Sabine plays along, leaning in with a hand on her cheek, “Not a frog on her birthday! What a tragedy!”

I shoot Marinette the most unimpressed glare I can muster through three-year-old muscles. “Ribbit,” I croak, deadpan.

Marinette loses it, nearly falling out of her seat laughing. “She’s a mad frog!”

Tom grins. “Mad frog or not, she still gets cake.”

Cake. My salvation. Sabine walks in with a modest but beautiful strawberry shortcake, three little candles already flickering on top. It smells so good I nearly cry. Not even out of birthday joy. Just out of sheer desperation. Toddler food is a punishment. This is a reward.

They place it down and start singing. Marinette joins in about three syllables behind everyone else, but she’s beaming the whole time.

“Blow them out, girls!” Sabine says when they finish.

Marinette immediately takes a deep breath and goes for it, spitting everywhere like a leaky fire hose.

I hesitate. For one brief second, I almost wish I could bottle this feeling. This moment. No pressure. No villains. No miraculous stuff. Just my sister and my parents, my new parents, celebrating.

I blow out my half of the candles, and everyone claps like I just cured the common cold.

"Yay!" Marinette claps, eyes wide as she stares at the frosting like it holds all the secrets of the universe.

Tom starts cutting the cake, humming some upbeat tune I don’t recognize, while Sabine hands out little paper plates with cute cartoon pandas on them.

As we eat, I glance at Marinette, her mouth covered in pink and white frosting as she hums and swings her feet happily.

She doesn’t know what’s coming.

But I do.

As Marinette stuffs frosting into her mouth like it’s a race against time, I just sit there, chewing slowly, staring at my slice. The cake is good, heavenly, really, but it doesn’t settle anything.

Because now that I’ve had this moment… this tiny bubble of peace… I’m thinking again. Thinking too much.

How am I supposed to change things?

How am I supposed to help? Should I warn them? Try to find the kwamis? Track down Master Fu before he even gives Marinette the earrings? Could I take her place? Should I?

The fork in my hand wobbles slightly as I stare down at the pink mess on the plate. My fingers feel distant. Disconnected.

But then, what if I mess up the timeline?

What if my being here already did?

What if this is the wrong Marinette? What if the real Ladybug was someone else, and I stole her spot just by being born next to her? What if my existence is the reason everything falls apart?

The world gets dark around the edges of my vision. My ears start ringing, soft at first, like a mosquito whining in the distance. Then louder. Like static building up in an old TV, clawing at the inside of my skull.

What if I’ve changed too much already? What if Hawkmoth gets the Miraculous because of me?

What if I was supposed to stop something, but my choices caused it instead?

My breath hitches. My chest tightens.

I try to swallow, but my throat feels like it’s closing. My heart is hammering so hard it feels like it’s about to crack my ribs from the inside.

I don’t hear Tom anymore.

I don’t hear Sabine.

I don’t hear Marinette’s giggling.

Everything feels far away, muffled, underwater.

The cake is still in my mouth. Sweet and soft. But I can’t chew. I can’t breathe. My hands tremble as the fork clinks against the plate. My fingers can’t hold it.

I look down at the cartoon panda staring up at me with wide, dumb joy and I feel wrong. Everything feels wrong.

I was supposed to fix this.

I was supposed to fix everything.

But what if I’m the problem?

What if I’m the reason it all goes to hell?

The ringing screams in my ears now. My fingers curl, grip tight onto the edge of the table. I don’t even feel the frosting on my knuckles. My vision blurs. My breath is rapid, shallow. Every part of me is shaking. Why can’t I stop shaking?

“Marilla?” Sabine’s voice finally breaks through, soft and worried.

I flinch.

I hadn’t realized she moved closer.

Tom’s standing too, his brows drawn tight. Marinette is quiet now, her eyes wide, the remnants of frosting on her face suddenly looking like war paint instead of joy.

“Marilla?” Sabine repeats, crouched now beside my tiny chair, her voice gentle but laced with rising panic.

I can’t answer.

My jaw won’t move. My tongue feels like rubber. My breath whistles in and out too fast, like a balloon deflating in a panic spiral. The fork slips from my fingers and clatters onto the cartoon panda plate, frosting smearing across the table like an abstract painting of what’s wrong with me.

Tom’s already stepping around the table. “Is she choking? Sabine, check, is she choking?”

“I don’t know, she’s breathing but she’s… she’s not blinking- Marilla? Honey, look at me. Look at mama, okay?”

I’m not blinking because I can’t. My eyes sting, my chest is still clenching like it’s trying to crush my lungs, and my brain feels like it’s on fire with static, like someone turned on a hundred radios all blaring the worst possible thoughts at once.

They’ll think you’re broken.

They’ll put you somewhere.

You’re messing everything up. You’re not supposed to be here.

It should’ve been someone else. It should’ve been anyone else.

You’re going to ruin her life.

“Sabine, get her! I’ll get the keys!” Tom barks, already rushing to the front door with cake still on his shirt.

Sabine’s hands are shaking as she gently lifts me out of the too-small chair. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re okay, you’re okay,” she repeats, but I can hear the wobble in her voice. She’s scared.

And I hate that.

I hate that I’m making her scared. That I’m ruining this. That I can’t just be normal, even for one stupid day.

She holds me close, trying to soothe me, but I’m stiff in her arms. Like a doll that’s been left out in the cold. I can’t even cry. I can’t scream. I can’t breathe right.

Marinette stands near the table, still and small, her eyes round with fear. “What’s wrong with Willa…?” she whispers.

Sabine doesn’t answer.

The air outside is cold as she rushes me to the car. The sound of the city feels like it's pressing in on me, everything too loud, too fast, like someone dragged reality up to 200% volume and forgot how to turn it down. The sun is bright, too bright, stabbing through the trees like needles.

“Car seat, Sabine,” Tom says as he opens the back door.

“I can’t, she’s- just hold her, I’ll sit with her,” Sabine says, slipping in beside me and cradling me in her lap. “We’ll explain at the hospital, we have to go-”

Hospital.

I want to scream.

I want to tell them to stop, that I’m not dying, that I’m just… I’m just broken on the inside. That this is panic. That this is guilt.

That I remember every episode of Miraculous Ladybug and it’s driving me insane that I don’t know how to fix it.

That I’m not Marilla, not really.

That I’ve been pretending and now it’s falling apart.

But the words won’t come.

They’re stuck somewhere behind my ribs, tangled with the choking sobs I can’t make.

The car starts. The engine revs. The tires peel off as Tom pulls into traffic faster than I’ve ever seen him move.

Sabine’s hand is on my head, smoothing back my hair, whispering, “It’s okay. It’s okay. We’ll get help, baby. You’re gonna be okay.”

But I don’t know if I believe her.

Because all I can hear, all I can hear, is my own voice in the back of my skull saying: You broke the story and now everyone's going to pay for it.

Well great, it only took three years for me to cause trouble for my family.

I sit on the hospital bed in the room kicking my legs bored, Marinette messed with a coloring book on the floor with crayons while Sabine and Tom were not so quietly whispering to each other.

“-said it’s extremely rare at this age-”
“-don’t understand where this could be coming from-”
“-Marinette’s fine, so what’s different-?”
“-possible neurological factor? Or maybe genetic-”

I sigh, flopping backward on the bed and staring at the ceiling like it’s going to offer some divine explanation for my continued existence. Three years old, and I’ve already got a medical file thick enough to raise eyebrows. Awesome.

The doctors were nice. Too nice. Concerned in that clinical, overly-careful way. They asked questions with bright smiles and gentle tones like I might break if they looked too hard.

“Have you felt scared lately, Marilla?”
“Do you ever feel like you’re not really here?”
“Can you tell me how you felt during your birthday party?”

I told them what I could get away with.

But let’s be real. I’m not going to say, “Hi, I’m actually a fully grown adult from another life who got reincarnated into the body of your three-year-old and I had a panic attack because I might’ve already derailed the entire canon of a magical girl TV show.”

Yeah. No.

The psych team didn’t even know what to do. A preschooler with signs of severe anxiety and dissociation disorder? At three? That’s not just rare, it’s practically unheard of.

I overheard them mention CPS. Of course they did. The second a kid’s got mental health problems and isn’t falling into line like a smiling cartoon character, the system starts knocking.

But then they looked at Marinette. Sweet, giggling, marker-streaked Marinette.

Happy. Healthy. No signs of fear. No red flags.

Just her twin, staring holes in the wall and freezing up like a badly programmed animatronic. Me.

So they backpedaled. Didn’t call CPS. Not yet. Instead, they started whispering about new disorders, early-onset, possible developmental complications.

They wrote me off as some kind of unprecedented case. A mystery for the textbooks.

At least that was better than them thinking my parents were hurting me. But still… the look Sabine gave me. Half-worry, half-guilt. Like she was wondering if she did something wrong. Like she thought she might be the reason I was broken.

It hurt more than the panic attack did.

“I made you a fwog again,” Marinette announces from the floor, holding up her blue giraffe triumphantly. “It’s magic.”

“That’s a giraffe,” I mumble.

“Nuh-uh,” she grins, tapping it with the crayon. “Fwog-giraffe. Like a giraffe but bouncy.”

I give her a flat stare.

She beams harder. “You gotta laugh, ‘Rilla. That’s the rules.”

A twitch. That’s the best I can give her. A half-smile that doesn’t quite stick.

Tom walks over, crouching beside the bed. His big hands reach for mine, warm and calloused from years of baking. “How you feelin’, kiddo?”

“Like a fwog-giraffe,” I say, because what else can I say?

He smiles. It’s strained, but there. “Doctor says we’re gonna need to come back for some more talks later. But you’re okay. You’re not in trouble.”

I nod.

Sabine walks over with her purse, slinging it over her shoulder like it weighs a thousand pounds. “We’re going to keep an eye on you, sweetie. Lots of love. Lots of time. And if there’s something we don’t understand yet…” Her eyes soften, shining. “We’ll learn.”

Another nod.

Because I can’t tell them the truth.

Can’t say that sometimes my head still feels like it belongs to a dead girl. That the pressure of knowledge I shouldn’t have is warping everything I touch. That I’m afraid of every choice I make.

I glance back at Marinette, who’s now coloring the sky purple. Because of course she is. She’s safe. Sheltered. Innocent.

And I’m sitting here thinking about butterfly brooches and death and destiny like I’ve got the weight of a season finale on my chest.

How do I live like this for eleven more years?

How do I survive knowing what’s coming?

Tom lifts me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. “We’ll figure it out, huh?” he murmurs.

I lean against him and close my eyes.

Maybe this wont go so bad.

Chapter Text

 "Look at my two girls all dressed up." Sabine cooed pulling on my cheek and marinette's cheek, we were in the boring uniforms for kindergarden, now I'm five, wow, just a random two year skip.

Too be fair nothing interesting happened, I just had a lot of doctor appointments and now had to take medicine, two pills a week to prevent any further 'episode'

Tom was outside preparing the car, I had my little backpack on my back, im happy I got to pick a purple one while marinette had one that was a blinding shade of pink.

Marinette bounced on her toes next to me, clutching her backpack straps like they were the reins of a pony about to take off. “Do you think there’ll be slides? Or bigger crayons? Or snacks?” she gasped, suddenly alarmed. “What if they forget snacks?!”

“They won’t,” I said, patting her on the head. “There’s a whole snack protocol. Chill.”

She stared at me with wide eyes, like I’d just told her the moon was made of cheese and it was her birthright to eat it.

Sabine fussed with a brush, tugging gently at Marinette’s curls. “You girls are going to have so much fun. Just remember to listen to your teacher, okay?”

“Yes, Mama!” Marinette said, throwing up a salute that knocked her headband crooked.

Sabine turned to me. “And you, Marilla?”

I offered her a smile. Tame. Practiced. “I’ll behave. I’m not worried.”

“Such a serious little lady,” she teased, giving me a kiss on the forehead.

I didn’t correct her. It’s easier now to just let them say things like that. Even if the word 'little' still feels like a joke when my brain’s older than half the people working at the school.

Tom called from outside, “Ready to roll?”

Marinette whooped and bolted for the door like it owed her money. I followed behind at a calmer pace, adjusting my backpack on my shoulders.

Sabine slipped a water bottle into my side pocket and whispered, “If you get tired or feel funny, tell someone right away, alright?”

“Got it.”

As we stepped outside, the morning air was crisp and full of promise, the kind that only works on five-year-olds and joggers. The car doors opened, Marinette climbed in like a monkey, and I buckled myself up with the solemnity of a tiny businesswoman heading to a meeting.

Sabine turned in her seat to look back at us. “You’re going to do great.”

Marinette grinned so hard I thought her cheeks might implode.

I flashed the best smile I could but old habits died hard so I didn't really smile with showing my teeth, in my last life I did not brush and well, nobody wanted to look at that dental disaster.

The car ride was short. Marinette filled the space with nonstop chatter about cartoons, what she was going to draw, and how she hoped the playground had monkey bars even though she wasn’t strong enough to use them. Sabine and Tom laughed at her enthusiasm.

I just watched the streets roll by.

The school wasn’t anything special, just a squat brick building with a chipped mural of smiling children on one side and a slightly leaning flagpole out front. The kind of place that smelled like glue, old books, and whatever they used to mop up kid disasters in the hallway.

As soon as we parked, Marinette flung the door open and launched herself toward the front steps, yelling, “WE’RE HERE, SCHOOL!”

Tom hollered after her, “Shoes on the ground, kiddo!” which didn’t make a whole lot of sense but got the point across.

I stepped out more carefully, adjusting my purple backpack and brushing invisible lint off my collar. The uniform was itchy and stiff, somebody decided beige and navy were appropriate colors for tiny humans with limited attention spans. Bold choice.

Sabine ushered us both toward the double doors. “Come on, girls, let’s check in before class starts.”

As we walked in, the scent hit me. Crayons, plastic, faint apple juice. A smell I hadn't experienced in literal decades, but now it came rushing back like a tidal wave of deja vu. My fingers curled around my backpack straps, grounding myself.

We entered a large room buzzing with pint-sized chaos. Kids everywhere. Shouting. Laughing. A few already crying. It was like a sugar-fueled battlefield.

I scanned the crowd instinctively, and then froze.

Oh no.

I recognized them.

Over by the bookshelves, a tiny redhead sat with a green crayon clutched in his fist like it owed him money. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Little Nathaniel.

At the puzzle table, a brown-haired blur dashed past, wearing a dinosaur backpack and what could only be described as barely contained excitement. Kim. Smaller than I ever imagined he could be. He immediately tried to race the teacher to the whiteboard. Lost. Tried again.

Near the building blocks, a girl with pink hair and a gleam in her eye stacked towers like she was planning an uprising. Alix. Of course she was already being a menace. I would bet money she’d figure out how to rig a juice box into a water gun by the end of the week.

Max sat beside her, stacking blocks in random shapes. I half expected him to pull out a tiny calculator.

And Rose was in a sun-yellow dress and holding up a drawing of a cat with sparkles all over it, grinning so wide it almost split her face. She was explaining the cat’s “special magical friendship powers” to an adult who clearly had no idea what she was talking about.

I stared, my stomach doing this weird flutter-twist thing that was probably half nerves and half existential dread.

Because they were here. Already.

All the pieces on the board.

All the kids who would grow into heroes, allies, civilians swept into chaos. Some of them would hurt. Some of them would fall. And right now, they were just… babies.

“Marilla?” Sabine’s voice pulled me back. “Are you alright?”

I blinked. “Yeah”

She smiled and gently pushed a stray hair out of my face. “It’s okay to be nervous.”

I nodded, but it wasn’t nerves. It was the pressure of knowing. These weren’t just classmates. They were prequel versions of people I knew, or thought I knew, from another life. A life with magic and monsters and destiny.

And me? I was still trying to figure out if I was supposed to be a warning sign or a glitch.

Marinette ran up to me, out of breath. “There’s a corner with bean bags and a rainbow rug! I called dibs!”

I blinked again, grounded by her sheer determination to claim the squishiest spot in the room.

“Okay, lead the way, rug baron,” I said.

We made our way into the classroom, where the teacher was introducing herself over the din of toddler-level chaos. I barely heard her name. Something with an M?

I sat down and you might be wondering, how did an adult deal with being in a kid's body, with a kid's instincts and maturity, without being bored out of there mind? Simple, just turn your brain off and follow whatever the fuck was going on.

Alix had a tiny fire in her eyes. Not literal, yet, but the kind of energy you could feel radiating from her as she bashed one plastic car into another like they’d personally insulted her ancestors.

“VROOOOM! BAM!” she shouted, the red car flying off the pretend ramp and crashing into the blue one in an explosion of poorly-mimicked sound effects and pure chaos.

I stood there for a second, holding a green car I’d fished out of the nearby toy bin. It was chipped, missing a wheel sticker, and had a weird scratch on the side that made it look like it had seen battle. Perfect.

Without a word, I sat down cross-legged across from her, raised my car in dramatic slow-motion, and smashed it into hers.

CRACKTHOOM!

Alix blinked at me, sizing me up like I’d just entered some unspoken arena.

“You crash good,” she said finally.

I gave her a solemn nod. “Yours exploded extra.”

She narrowed her eyes, then grinned. “Okay. This one’s name is Blaze Deathstorm.”

I turned my car over in my hands thoughtfully. “This one’s called... Greg.”

Alix cackled, throwing her head back like it was the funniest thing she'd heard in her five years of life.

“GREG?! That’s not a car name!”

“It is if he’s undercover,” I replied, voice deadly serious.

Alix slammed her car into mine again, delighted. “Greg better watch out. Blaze Deathstorm doesn’t play.”

“Oh, he’s not afraid,” I said, pulling Greg back like he was preparing for a vengeance-fueled comeback. “Greg’s been through the parking wars.”

That was it. We were bonded now. Chaos respects chaos.

Alix's eyes went wide. “The parking wars?” she whispered, like I’d just told her about a secret legendary battle only spoken of in hushed tones.

I nodded gravely, holding Greg close. “Lot 47. Two lanes. One exit. No rules.”

She looked down at Blaze Deathstorm, then up at me. “Did he… did he survive?”

I made Greg nod. Slowly. “Barely. Lost a hubcap and his dignity.”

Alix gave a low, impressed whistle and nudged Blaze into place beside Greg. “He can roll with us. But only if he doesn’t snitch.”

“Greg doesn’t even know how to snitch,” I said, and for some reason that made Alix fall over onto her side, kicking her legs and giggling uncontrollably.

Meanwhile, I was only kind of pretending. I mean, sure, technically I was a full-grown adult mentally, but try acting like a tax-paying rational human when someone hands you a bucket of plastic cars and tells you the floor is lava. You will start assigning names and tragic backstories to inanimate objects.

Alix rolled back up and pointed to a third car still in the box. “That one’s called Smasherella. She’s Blaze’s rival but they’re also in love.”

“Tragic,” I muttered, handing her over like we were exchanging national secrets.

Alix held the car gently. “She’s very emotional.”

“Greg respects that.”

Just then, Marinette came trotting back over, cheeks pink and hair slightly messier than it had been five minutes ago. “I tried to race Kim,” she panted. “He ran in circles and made dinosaur noises. I think I lost.”

“Sounds like a fair match,” I said. “We’re in the middle of an extremely serious car soap opera, by the way.”

Marinette dropped to her knees and grabbed a car from the bin. “This one’s name is Princess Bubblebutt.”

Alix snorted so hard she nearly inhaled Blaze Deathstorm.

“Powerful choice,” I said.

“Her thing is she crashes into people and then lectures them about safety,” Marinette added, pushing her car dramatically toward Greg and Blaze like she was making an entrance on a red carpet made of napalm.

“Princess Bubblebutt, watch out!” Alix warned. “Smasherella’s unstable today!”

Too late. There was a wham of plastic against plastic as Marinette’s car joined the chaos.

“You rear-ended Blaze!” Alix accused.

“She parked wrong!” Marinette shouted back.

“She has wheels, not a license!”

They kept yelling in outrage and high drama while I repositioned Greg, preparing for what I deemed The Reckoning: a three-car pileup with emotional consequences and minor betrayal.

The teacher passed by, glanced at the chaos unfolding, and moved on without comment. Clearly a seasoned veteran.

The rest of the room had become a low roar of childhood noise, blocks clacking, someone crying near the easel, Nathaniel sketching furiously in a corner like he was working through an existential crisis.

But over in our corner, it was just us and the floor of fire, destruction, and heartfelt monologues between cars named after household objects.

“I think Greg needs a redemption arc,” I said after a particularly dramatic pileup.

Alix nodded. “Let him say something deep.”

I cleared my throat and in my best gravelly voice, murmured, “I never asked to be a vehicle… but maybe this is the road I was meant to drive.”

Marinette clutched her chest like she’d been shot. “That was beautiful.”

Alix smashed Blaze Deathstorm into a block tower. “Okay, time to blow something up now.”

And that’s how the first day of kindergarten went: no tears, no disasters, no world-ending prophecies. Just three gremlins building a kingdom out of toy cars and mutual insanity.

And honestly? Not the worst start.

Chapter Text

I groan laying on my desk bored, Its been a few years now, The great power of being 11 has been bestowed upon me and its like, the middle of the school year or something.

God im bored, nothing is happening today.

"Hey, Hey, Hey Marilla, Hey, Hey, Hey Marilla." Alix began poking me repeatedly as I flop my head over.

"Yes?" I ask confused seeing Max, Kim and Alix all holding green, red, purple and blue marbles.

“Wanna play Marble Smash?” Alix grinned, shaking her hand so the red marble in her palm caught the light like it was a treasure from some long-lost tomb.

Max adjusted his glasses. “Technically it’s called Impact Sphere Strategy, but-”

“No it’s not,” Kim cut in, already crouching to draw a circle on a piece of paper. “That’s what you call it. It’s literally just bonking marbles until one flies off the circle.”

Marilla let her head roll onto her arm with a dramatic sigh. “Is this going to end with someone claiming their marble has elemental powers again?”

“That was one time!” Alix shot back, then muttered, “...and Blaze Deathstorm does have fire abilities.”

I groaned but stood up anyway, stretching my arms behind me. “Fine, fine, I’m in. But I’m not naming another one Greg. That story arc ended with betrayal and spilled juice.”

“I still say he was framed,” Max said solemnly, kneeling to place his marble like it was a chess piece in a grandmaster tournament.

Kim flung his blue marble into the circle with the intensity of a sports anime character mid-montage. “Let’s do this!”

We settled in fast, Alix calling dibs on first shot like she always did (no one fought her on it because, well, she will bite). The rules were simple: draw a circle, put all your marbles in the middle, then take turns flicking yours at the rest and try to knock them out of bounds. It was dumb. It was simple.

It was deadly serious.

I crouched next to Max, who was already analyzing angles like this was billiards and he was prepping for the finals.

“I think if I hit at a 47-degree angle with enough force, I can dislodge Kim’s-”

Max never finished his thesis because right then, a voice sliced through the air like a paper cut made of glitter and smug.

“Ugh. Really?”

I flinched. Not out of fear. Reflex. Battle-worn trauma.

Chloe.

Like canon she joined school this year along with her lapdog Sabrina, I genuinely can't tell if Sabrina is just insecure, oblivious, or just badly in love with Chloe, I seriously don't understand why she follows her around

“What is this?” she asked, strutting over in a puff of expensive perfume and self-importance, Sabrina trailing behind her like a loyal minion on a leash made of insecurity.

“Marbles,” Kim said slowly, blinking up at her. “Like… the game?”

“It looks like something toddlers do when their tablets die,” Chloe scoffed, crossing her arms like she’d caught us in the act of building a treehouse made of trash.

Alix rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Like… an audition for ‘Annoying Rich Kid Who Gets Eaten First in a Movie’?”

Sabrina gasped, horrified. Chloe didn’t flinch.

“I’ll have you know I’m not allowed to play marbles,” she said, smug tone rising like a wave of passive-aggression. “My mom says it builds ‘commoner calluses.’”

“Oh no,” I deadpanned. "We totally care about what your absent mother says."

I freeze- Okay, I hate Chloe. I think shes an annoying brat, but I definently shouldn't have said that.

Chloe does what every kid does when insulted, began to cry.

Chloe’s lip wobbled before her whole face crumpled like a cheap paper napkin, her voice going up two octaves. “She’s not gone! She’s just busy! She’s super important and I don’t need stupid marbles and dumb games anyway!”

And then came the tears. Loud, dramatic, splash-zone levels of tears. The kind where everyone in the classroom turned to look, like a school of fish suddenly noticing a shark just swam by.

Sabrina immediately sprang into action, waving her arms like she could build a shame-proof emotional shield with sheer panic. “Don’t cry, Chloe! They’re just jealous! They don’t even have cool shoes!”

I stood frozen, stomach twisted up into a tight, guilty knot. Sure, I meant to be snarky. I mean, Chloe had marble-shamed us and insulted our collective intelligence. But I didn’t mean to go there. That hit harder than I’d planned.

“Marilla Dupain-Cheng,” came the sharp voice of our teacher, Ms. Bardot, who had materialized from the educational aether like all teachers do when things start to go nuclear. “Time-out. Now.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. There was no argument to make that didn’t make me sound worse.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Okay.”

I shuffled over to the designated time-out corner, which was really just a sad mat with a laminated sign that said Think Zone and a cartoon of a smiling brain that definitely wasn’t reflecting my current mood.

Behind me, Chloe continued her tearful monologue. “And I don’t even want to be here anyway and nobody understands what it’s like and I miss her but I’m not gonna say that-”

And that… that kind of hurt to hear.

Because the truth is, I did understand. More than anyone else probably could. I mean, lets just say I could make a lot of fatherless jokes in my last life, kinda glad Tom and Sabine are great parents in this life.

I sat on the Think Zone mat like a war criminal awaiting trial, legs crossed, elbows on knees, chin in hands. The laminated smiling brain above me mocked my very existence. I gave it a dirty look. It continued smiling.

Behind me, the emotional wreckage continued. Chloe was now in full breakdown mode, the kind of cry that seemed to run off pure ego and saltwater. Sabrina knelt beside her whispering frantic praises like, “You’re beautiful, you’re better than them, your jacket is made of imported velvet, remember the Velvet, Chloe!”

And me? I felt like garbage.

Yeah, she deserved a snarky comeback, but that? That was a low blow. I could still feel the words echoing off the inside of my skull like a ricocheting pinball: We totally care what your absent mother says.

Low.

I didn’t even turn my head when I heard sneakers pounding across the floor like a mini stampede. It was Alix first, of course.

“What did you do?” she hissed, crouching beside me with the kind of urgency you reserve for when a friend’s about to get expelled or when you drop your phone in a sewer grate. “Marinette’s coming. I told her what happened. You’re doomed.”

Right on cue: “MARILLA.”

Yep. There she was. My twin, my better half, my morality police. Marinette stomped over, pigtails bouncing, looking somewhere between disappointed mom and heartbroken Disney protagonist.

“You made her cry?” she said, like I’d just admitted to stealing candy from a puppy. “Marilla! She’s mean, yeah, but she’s still a person!”

“I know,” I muttered, refusing to look up. “It slipped. It just… slipped.”

“She was talking about her mom,” Marinette said, voice cracking slightly. “You know how I get when Mom’s gone for a shift too long.”

I stayed quiet. I did know. She got clingy. Nervous. Quiet. Drew sad bugs in her sketchbook until Sabine came home and hugged her.

Marinette flopped down in front of me on the mat, folding her arms tightly. “You can’t just hurt people back when they hurt you first. That’s not… That’s not what good people do.”

I grimaced. “Who said I was a good person?”

Alix snorted behind her hand. Marinette glared at her. “Not helping.”

“Hey, I’m just here for moral support,” Alix shrugged, sitting beside us like this was some kind of emotional tribunal. “And also because I want to see if Marilla tries to flee through the vents.”

“I’m not gonna-” I sighed, head falling into my hands. “Look, I didn’t mean to make her cry. I just… I dunno, the words came out before my brain could stop them.”

Marinette’s expression softened slightly, like she was trying to stay mad but her heart wasn’t fully committed.

“I’ll apologize,” I said quickly, before she could say it for me.

“You better,” she said, but the fire in her tone had faded into something gentler. “She might be awful, but no one deserves that.”

I nodded.

I walk over to Chloe and look at her before I put on the most monotone voice I can, "Im so sorry, I didnt mean to insult your mom who may or may not be constantly in new york instead of here, can you ever forgive me?"

There was a moment of stunned silence. Like the air itself had frozen in disbelief. Across the room, I could feel Marinette go stiff like a deer sensing an incoming disaster. Alix, on the other hand, audibly snorted and had to hide her face behind her arm.

Chloe’s expression twisted in slow motion, pain, disbelief, fury. She stood, posture stiff, eyes sharp now instead of weepy. She looked like she had just watched me spit on the Louvre.

“You witch!” she screeched, loud enough to make the class jump.

Sabrina gasped and clutched her arm like she’d just witnessed someone slap royalty.

“You don’t even care!” Chloe jabbed a finger at me, nostrils flaring. “You’re a mean, jerk, common little gremlin, and I am never speaking to you again!”

“Cool,” I replied, already walking back to my friends. “Let’s keep that streak going.”

“You’ll regret this!” Chloe shouted after me.

“Already do. My ears are bleeding.”

I plopped down next to Alix, who was openly cackling now, and Marinette, who looked like she wanted to disappear into her backpack and reemerge in another timeline.

“Marilla!” she hissed. “What was that?!”

“I said the words,” I shrugged, leaning back on my hands. “Didn’t say they had to be sincere.”

“That’s worse!” Marinette whisper-yelled. “Now she’s gonna make it her life’s mission to destroy you.”

“I already hated her,” I said. “Now it’s just mutual.”

Alix grinned, eyes wide with admiration. “You’re going to be her supervillain origin story.”

“Great,” I muttered. “As long as I still get to hang out with you.”

That part was non-negotiable. Chloe could rage, rant, and ruin as much as she wanted, but she wasn’t going to pry me away from my best friend. Alix was my ride-or-die chaos gremlin, the only person who understood the glory of naming cars Greg and assigning marbles elemental powers.

If being mortal enemies with Chloe Bourgeois was the price I had to pay for that?

So be it.

Chapter Text

"Really Chloe, this is the best you could do?" I say bluntly looking down at the bubble gum on my seat as I glare to where Chloe is grinning with Sabrine laughing beside her.

"Oh no, a piece of gum happends to be on your seat and your accusing me? Rediculous, utterly rediculous." Chloe says feigning innocence.

I didn’t even answer. Just pulled a pencil from my bag, scraped the gum off in one swipe, and plopped down like it was a normal Tuesday, which, it basically was. At this point, Chloe’s petty war crimes were background noise.

The bell hadn’t even rung yet when Marinette rushed in, books clutched in her arms instead of her usual pink backpack. She looked like she’d just lost a race with a sprinkler system.

I blinked. “Uh… what happened to...?”

Then I saw it. Her backpack slumped on the floor next to the door like a drowned rat. Soggy. Dripping. Books inside probably ruined. Someone had poured water all over it.

My gaze flicked straight to Chloe.

Chloe didn’t even try to hide it this time. She gave me this smug little smirk like she’d already won the day. Sabrina snorted behind her like she was trying to hold in a laugh and failing miserably.

Something inside me snapped.

I stood up, real slow. Reached into my own backpack. Pulled out the heaviest textbook I had, Advanced Geometry for Middle Graders, a brick disguised as learning material, and without a single word, launched it across the room.

THWACK.

Right in the shoulder.

Chloe screamed like I’d thrown a live raccoon at her.

“MARILLA!” Marinette shrieked.

“OH MY GOSH!” Sabrina cried, scrambling to Chloe’s side as the blonde stumbled backward, catching herself on a desk with wild eyes.

But I wasn’t done. Not even close.

I lunged.

Over my desk. Around the chairs. Straight at Chloe like a missile of pure twin-fueled rage.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU MANGY GREEDY JERK!" I pin her down and start pummeling her, punching her over and over.

“AHHH! GET HER OFF ME!” Chloe screamed, flailing like she was being mugged by a raccoon. Okay, fair.

Marinette grabbed my arm. “Marilla, STOP! She’s not worth it!”

Sabrina yelled something too, but I wasn’t listening. I barely even felt Marinette hanging on my sleeve.

It took two people to drag me off, Kim and Alix, both wide-eyed and saying things like “Whoa, whoa, WHOA- chill!” and “She’s gone feral!”

The teacher burst in right then like someone had lit a fire in the hallway. “What in the world is going on?!”

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, to the principal’s office, NOW!”

I didn’t fight it. I didn’t say anything. I just shook off Kim and Alix, grabbed my bag, and walked right past Chloe, who was still sniffling and clutching her shoulder like I’d dislocated it (I definitely didn’t).

Marinette stared at me, still clutching her wet books, eyes wide and heartbroken.

But I didn’t look back.

I wasn’t sorry

...

Okay now I'm sorry

"Marilla, How could you attack one of your classmates!" Sabine scolded as Tom crossed his arms looking disapprovingly.

So... not having good parents in my past life and not getting in trouble (mostly because my anger issues manifested after I was in school) didnt prepare me for the worst feeling in the world, disappointed parents.

Sabine’s voice was firm, but not yelling. That somehow made it worse.

“Marilla, you physically attacked another student. With a textbook! And then you tackled her!” She gestured wildly as if she couldn’t believe the sentence even came out of her mouth. “You pummeled her!”

I sat slumped in the stiff chair, hands in my lap, eyes locked on a spot of scuffed linoleum near the desk like it held the secret to time travel.

Tom hadn’t said a word. He just stood behind Sabine, arms crossed, his mustache doing that subtle twitch it always did when he didn’t know how to handle a situation. That was worse than yelling too. That was disappointment wrapped in a bakery apron.

And then there was Principal Damocles.

Just… sitting at his desk. Hands folded. Trying to look authoritative but mostly just blinking like he couldn’t decide if this was a school fight or the start of a Marvel origin story. He finally cleared his throat.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng… this is, well, very serious,” he said, voice wobbling like a Jenga tower. “Physical violence is strictly against school policy, no matter the reason.”

Sabine immediately latched onto that. “Exactly. What Chloe did was wrong and she should be punished but, you don’t assault people! What were you thinking?”

I stayed quiet.

Not because I didn’t know the answer.

But because I did.

I was thinking about Marinette’s soaked backpack. Her ruined sketchbook. The way she just stood there, dripping and heartbroken, and still tried to pull me off. I was thinking about how Chloe’s smug little smirk had snapped something in me that’d been just waiting to break.

I was thinking that I’d never seen red like that before.

And I’d hated it.

“I’m sorry,” I said, voice small.

Sabine sighed, really sighed. The kind of sigh that felt like it pulled something out of her lungs she didn’t want to give up. She knelt down in front of me, gently took my hands from my lap, and held them like they might vanish.

“I know you’re sorry, Marilla,” she said quietly. “But that doesn’t fix everything. Hurting people isn’t something we ever want you to think is okay. Not ever.”

“I know,” I murmured, and meant it. My fingers curled around hers instinctively. Her warmth was grounding, but that ache in my chest didn’t leave.

Tom finally stepped forward, kneeling beside us. He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at me, searching my face like he might find some kind of map that led to the answer he wanted.

“I know you love your sister,” he said, voice soft but tired. “But part of loving someone is knowing how to protect them without turning into someone else.”

I bit my lip. Hard. “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know you didn’t,” he said, brushing a hand over my head gently. “But now we have to deal with what happened.”

Principal Damocles shuffled some papers unnecessarily. “Well. Considering this is your first incident and you seem apologetic... I'll let it slide with just a warning."

Or its because you don't like actually doing your job as a principal, but I decided to keep that thought to myself.

We left the principal's office and Marinette was waiting on a chair outside the office, kicking her feet a bit.

Marinette’s eyes lit up the moment she saw me step out. She hopped off the chair like it had just ejected her, skipping over with a grin. “You didn’t get in trouble!”

I shrugged, hands in my pockets. “Just a warning.”

Marinette threw her arms around me in a quick, impulsive hug. “I was so scared you were gonna get expelled or something!”

Sabine gave me a gentle look and rested her hand on my back, guiding us both toward the parking lot. “Let’s not have any more visits to the principal’s office, okay?”

“Yes, Mama,” Marinette said in her most angelic voice, then immediately turned to me and whispered, “Seriously though, I still think the textbook throw was kinda epic.”

I cracked the smallest smile.

Tom reached the car first and turned it on while we all got in, Marinette sat beside me in the back while Tom sat in the driver's seat.

Marinette didn’t waste a second. “So, I had this idea during math, because math is the most boring thing ever, and I was thinking about designing a coat, right? But it’s not just any coat, it’s like, this layered one with flowy fabric and gold stitching and maybe hidden pockets? And then I thought, what if the inside was like, reversible? So it can be a jacket and a dress?”

Sabine smiled. “Sounds very creative, sweetheart.”

“And- and!” Marinette’s voice picked up like a freight train. “Then I started thinking about matching boots. Like knee-high, but not the annoying kind that take forever to zip up. Maybe something with those stretchy panels? And maybe charms hanging off the side!”

Tom chuckled. “Charms, huh? You sure you don’t want to design magical boots next?”

Marinette gasped. “That would be so cool! What if they had little lights in the heels? Or what if they could like, change color based on mood?”

I leaned my head against the window, listening, half-tuned out and half-anchored by her words.

It was familiar. Comforting. Marinette rambling about designs. Tom teasing. Sabine listening with that same soft patience. The city outside blurred by, flower shops, old stone buildings, a guy on a bike shouting in rapid French.

But underneath it all, in my chest, there was a low thrum. Not anxiety this time. Not quite dread. Just… awareness.

Two years.

Two years until everything changes.

Two years until a certain black-haired girl gets a pair of earrings that alter the course of the world.

Two years until Adrien Agreste steps into school with all the weight of his family name and none of the freedom of a normal kid.

Two years until the Miraculous appear.

Until Hawkmoth rises.

Until the chaos starts.

I glanced over at Marinette, still talking with stars in her eyes and so much hope in her voice it almost hurt. She had no idea what she’d be carrying soon. What kind of choices she’d have to make. What kind of losses.

And maybe… maybe I wouldn’t be able to stop any of it.

But I’d be there.

I’d be there when she becomes Ladybug.

And whether I was meant to help or not, whether I’d break things or hold them together…

I was going to try.

But how do I help? I cant exactly just walk up to Master Fu and go 'Hey please give me a miraculous since you gave my sister one, dont ask how I know your the guardian or what the guardian is! Totally trust me out of nowhere!'

That’d go over about as well as a brick through his tea shop window.

Fu was cautious. Secretive. He doesn’t even exist to most people until the miraculous are needed. And he only gives them out when the universe kicks him hard enough.

Which meant I either had to wait for everything to start… or act preemptively and risk completely derailing the entire balance of the kwamis, the order, and potentially, somehow, the planet.

Awesome.

“Marilla, are you even listening?” Marinette huffed, poking my forehead with her pinky.

“Yup,” I lied smoothly. “Mood boots. Charms. Magic. Zipless zippers. I’m invested.”

She giggled. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” I muttered, and she leaned into my side with a smug grin.

Tom turned into the familiar curve of our street. “We’ll be home in a minute. Why don’t you two decide what kind of ice cream we’re getting later, since today ended without an expulsion.”

Marinette perked up like a cat spotting tuna. “Chocolate chip with marshmallows!”

"Oreo," I say grinning, as I just got a horrible, yet great idea.

Theres many miraculous

But theres one I could get, one I might be able to reach but I need to wait two years.

I need canon to start before I can get anywhere close to it.

A miraculous that its current owner wouldn't care if it was given away.

The only broken miraculous.

The Peacock Miraculous.

Chapter Text

Only one year until canon starts, I stand in my room which is right beside the stairs to Marinette's room above me, I have a blue bed with black pillows.

My desk lays beside me with a piano in the corner, music is amazing.

I hum at my diary, okay so my current plan? Become a villain.

You might be thinking, 'oh fuck what do you mean become a villain?'

Well its simple, heres my totally genius plan!

1. Wait for origin day to happen with stoneheart and stuff

2. Wait until bubbler (best time to get in since I think thats the third akuma?)

3. Convince Gabriel to give me the peacock miraculous as help, think about it. He keeps losing cause there's always 1 akuma, 2 heroes. Turn it into a 2v2. And he shouldn't care if someone they dont care about starts to deal with the... broken... miraculous...

I grimace, thats the one problem in my plan. The peacock miraculous is the only miraculous I can get the easiest but being it broken means...

...dealing with the symptoms of a broken miraculous.

Alright so lets list the symptoms!

Growing weak, losing the ability to walk, violent coughing, probably coughing blood but PG-13 show prob stopped from showing that. Also 'cellular decay' which sounds nasty, uh- looking like a skeleton and stuff. And then well, death.

Mmm...

...Shorten my lifespan to like... a year or two... or end up a background character doing nothing?

I mean its not too bad, season 2 to 5 was 1 and a half years or two? Not sure...

So, I'd die by the end of season 4 or early season 5.

I stare down at my diary, pen hovering mid-thought as I let that little nugget of reality sit in my head like a sour candy melting on my tongue.

Death.

By season five.

Not in a blaze of glory or in some noble sacrifice to save Paris. Nope. Just… body shutting down piece by piece because I decided to saddle up with a malfunctioning magical feather brooch for the sake of balance.

I scribble aggressively on the page:

PROS OF DYING:

- Drama points
- Cool transformation sequence
- Might emotionally traumatize Adrien (bonus)
- My funeral playlist would slap
- Possibly die in Alix’s arms while she calls me a dumbass, honestly, poetic.”

And then underneath, in smaller writing:

CONS OF DYING:

- Dying.

I slump forward onto my desk, forehead hitting the surface with a dull thud.

The piano in the corner sits mockingly silent, as if waiting to score the tragic monologue of my villain origin story.

The thing is… it could work.

Gabriel is a lot of things, egotistical, fashion-obsessed, emotionally bankrupt, but stupid isn’t one of them. If some mystery ally shows up offering actual competence and team dynamics, he might bite. Especially early on, when he's still testing the waters, still scrambling for control, before he turns into full Bond villain by season 4.

I wouldn’t even need to betray Marinette. Not really.

I’d be… freelance evil. Hawkmoth’s sidekick. A wild card.

Give the heroes a real challenge. Push them to grow faster. Make sure they’re ready before real threats show up, like Lila, or Félix, or Gabriel’s final fashion meltdown.

And if I die?

...well, I die usefully.

Which, hey, is more than I can say about my last life.

I sit back in my chair and look up at the ceiling, just under where Marinette’s room is. I can hear the faint shuffling of her moving around upstairs, probably sketching, probably dreaming big and innocent dreams.

She’s going to be amazing.

She’ll fight monsters, save people, love fiercely, break down, stand back up.

She’ll carry the weight of the world like it’s sewn into the threads of her suit.

And she’ll smile, even when it hurts.

I know it.

Guess I need to be the villain huh? The whole 'evil twin' shtick.

I'll be the evil Twin to make Marinette better, yeah...

I just need to make her better, then less problems will happen. Training through being an enemy.

The akumas got stronger in canon making Ladybug and chat noir stronger.

So I just need to raise the stakes and they'll be more prepared.

Yeah! Besides is cellular decay really that bad?

...

...Okay yeah it kinda is but it'll be fine.

I wasnt supposed to be here anyways.

My brooding villain monologue, complete with tragic musical potential and a premature death plan, was cut off by my phone buzzing obnoxiously on the desk.

ALIX:

YO. SS2. You. Me. NOW.
I'm on the lobby screen and you're already late. Chop chop, Donut girl.

I blinked at the screen.

Then again.

And then let out a groan somewhere between annoyed and thank god for distractions.

Super Shooter 2: the most aggressively chaotic FPS on the planet, complete with the worst balancing in history and the most satisfying headshot plink sound ever created. It was our thing. Our stress relief. Our second language.

I shoved my villainous journal under a stack of sketch paper, spun toward the TV like I hadn’t just been weighing the moral cost of existential martyrdom, and booted up the console.

“Let’s do this,” I muttered, cracking my knuckles like I hadn’t been about to sell my soul to Gabriel Agreste five minutes ago.

By the time I loaded into the match, Alix was already in the kill feed.

[KimIs_ALoser] eliminated [xX_BaguetteBoi_Xx]

She was running across rooftops with all the grace of a caffeinated raccoon, dual pistols blazing, mic hot.

“YOU TOOK THREE MINUTES,” she shouted through my headset. “Do you know how many people I shot in three minutes?”

“Let me guess,” I said, plugging in my mic. “All of them.”

“Correct. And now it’s your turn. Shield goblin mode engage.”

I smirked, already equipping my riot shield and stun grenades. “Time to make everyone rage-quit.”

We dropped into a new match, tight corridors, neon lights, players screaming in chat already and it took less than ten seconds for me to corner two campers trying to snipe from the back room.

I ran towards them the shield blocking the bullets before I bonked one in the head instant killing them because melee in this game is bullshit.

[Marillavirus] eliminated [TTV_QueenLettuce]

“YOU’RE THE WORST,” the voice chat howled.

I got hit in the back a few times before I turned shield bashing the other guy

[Marillavirus] eliminated [LettuceIsMyWaifu]

Alix cackled. “SHE’S DOING THE WALL-CREEP. YOU POOR MORONS NEVER HAD A CHANCE.”

I was already crouched behind a soda machine, shield up, slowly advancing like an ancient evil returning to claim my cursed turf.

A shotgun blast pinged off the front of the shield. I tossed a flash grenade, rounded the corner, and bonk, another elimination.

“Shield’s too OP,” Alix laughed, sprinting past me and vaulting over a railing. “You’re like a snail with a grudge.”

“You’re like a toddler with knives.”

“And together we’re EVERYONE’S PROBLEM!”

We blitzed through the match. She went full berserker, wall-running with reckless abandon, and I played her bodyguard-troll hybrid, blocking doors and baiting players into ambushes. It was the dumbest, most beautiful chaos ever.

Alix was trash talking the entire time of course.

Alix’s voice crackled through the headset, a nonstop stream of sass and wild plans.

“Dude, did you see that no-scope I just pulled? I’m basically the queen of chaos.”

I smirked, shielding a corner as footsteps approached. “Queen of chaos or just queen of dying spectacularly?”

“Nope, I’m the queen of winning,” she shot back. “You’re just my loyal, unstoppable shield. I’m the sword, you’re the wall.”

I grunted, blocking an incoming grenade blast and tossing one of my own. The flashbang exploded in a burst of light, and Alix vaulted in like a whirlwind of bullets and energy.

“Time to run and gun!” she shouted, dual pistols blazing as enemies fell like dominoes.

I stayed back, shield raised, laughing despite myself. This ridiculous, chaotic teamwork was exactly the break I needed from all the heavy thinking about futures and fate.

“Okay, okay,” Alix teased after another wipeout. “Who wants to face the unstoppable duo of ShieldSnail and BulletBlitz?”

The voice chat exploded with salty rage and accusations of hacking. I leaned back, relaxing into the noise, feeling a little less like the doomed villain and a little more like a kid just having fun.

Suddenly I got a shotgun blast to the back and I glared at the familiar username that killed me

[AlixIs_ALoser] eliminated [Marillavirus]

"GET WRECKED MARILLA!" Kim shouts over the mic before laughing, I quickly check the player list and yep, the username 'Maximillion' is there aswell, Max's gamer tag.

Welp the rivalry continues.

"OH FUCK YOU KIM!" Alix shouts as the two rivals are immediately going at it, Alix is spam jumping spraying at Kim while Kim is running to try and use his tactic of insta killing with a close range shotgun blast.

The digital battlefield quickly devolved into chaos as Kim and Alix launched into their usual heated rivalry. Alix was bouncing around like a maniac, spray-painting the screen with bullets and furious jumps, all while Kim was stalking her relentlessly, shotgun ready for a perfect close-range takedown.

Max and I exchanged a look, our avatars standing awkwardly on the sidelines like uninterested referees watching two wild animals fight over territory.

“Here we go again,” Max muttered, adjusting his glasses.

Alix yelled over the mic, “Come on, Kim! You can’t catch me!” Her character vaulted over a crate, firing dual pistols wildly. “You’re just slow and predictable!”

Kim responded with a grin I could practically hear, “Says the one who gets shot in the back half the time!”

Their firefight turned into a loop of near-misses, dives, and perfectly timed shots, the match turning into less of a team game and more of a relentless chase scene. It was so intense that every time one of them got a kill or was downed, it was like the entire lobby paused to watch the saga unfold.

Alix dragged me into the fray as her loyal shield-snail, “Get up, get up, Marilla! If you don’t cover me, I’m toast!”

Max groaned, “I’m getting pulled into this too? No way.”

Kim just smirked and added, “You’re stuck with me now, Max. We’ll take them down together.”

"You both forgot something," I grin and take out... the rpg.

"This game is pay to wiiin~" I said sadistically in a sing-song tone before rapid firing the insta-kill AOE RPG rounds, this is the most bullshit weapon in the game which costs money aswell as being max level, so few people have it and I love making people rage.

[Marillavirus] eliminated [AlixIs_ALoser]

[Marillavirus] eliminated [Maximillion]

Alix’s laughter echoed through the voice chat, pure, unfiltered chaos. “WHAT?! MARILLA, YOU CHEATED!” she shouted, practically doubling over with laughter.

I couldn’t help but grin under my headset. “Pay to win, baby. You gotta spend to dominate.”

Kim groaned on the other end, “Ugh, seriously? That thing again? No fair, Marilla!”

Max just muttered something about “unbalanced game mechanics” before throwing his hands up in surrender.

Alix was still giggling, wiping tears from her eyes. “Okay, okay, I admit it. You’re the ultimate troll. You just killed both my and Max’s pride in one fell swoop.”

I leaned back in my chair, feeling that familiar rush of victory mixed with pure mischief. “And that’s why you keep me around.”

Kim’s voice crackled through, “You better watch your back next round."

"How are you going to stop my insta kill rocket?" I say with a grin, even the second most op object, the riot shield, cant deal with the RPG.

THIS GAME IS SHIT BUT THATS WHY ITS SO FUN!

If every weapon is unbalanced, then every weapon is balanced.

Alix’s voice cracked with laughter. “Kim, you’re so done! I have Marilla on my team. There’s no way you’re coming out on top!”

Before she could finish, a sharp ping rang out. A red dot appeared on my screen, and snap, I dropped instantly.

“NOOO!” I groaned, scrambling to switch to the riot shield, fingers fumbling with the controls.

But Max was already on me, sniper rifle trained perfectly. Another shot, and I went down again before I even got the shield up.

Alix cursed, “MARILLA! You’re supposed to be the shield, not the pinata!”

Kim’s laughter was triumphant. “Sniper’s advantage, baby.”

I sighed, slumping back in my chair. “Okay, okay, maybe the sniper rifle is broken.”

Alix snickered, “Welcome to the fun of balanced chaos.”

And somehow, I couldn’t stop grinning.

Chapter Text

"♫Petrify my heart! Breaking through the Start!♫" I sang to myself while practicing on the electric piano, I have it set so the keys sound like a guitar.

What, never thought someone would try punk rock on a piano? Jokes on you I'm a weirdo!

Anyways... Today's the day, the beginning of the story.

Marinette is probably still asleep.

I kept plucking out the chords with a rhythm that was more heart than technique, letting my fingers stumble through the verses like they were half-drunk on sleep and chaos.

“♫Static in my veins! Lightning through the chains!♫”

The faux guitar sound buzzed under my fingertips like caffeine in sonic form. The neighbors probably hated me already. Good. It builds character.

I paused long enough to sip from my aggressively chipped 'More Expresso, Less Depresso' mug, filled with half cold chocolate milk now, and squinted at the clock on the wall. Way too early for normal people. Perfect timing for me.

Because today wasn’t a normal day.

Today was the start of everything.

I leaned back, tapping the keys absentmindedly while staring out the window. The sun was barely up, filtering through gray clouds like it couldn’t commit to being cheerful. Fitting, honestly.

Marinette was probably still out cold, tangled in way too many blankets, drooling onto her pillow and dreaming about pastries, cute boys, or both.

I grinned.

“She has no idea what’s coming.”

Not in a dramatic, evil-laugh kind of way. More like the kind of way that meant “I’m about to kick fate in the teeth and it’s going to be awesome.”

There was a spark in the air today, some weird, buzzing feeling in my bones like the universe had hit shuffle and forgot to tell the DJ. Something was coming. I could feel it.

I went back to the keys.

“♫Every glitch a crown, every fall a sound, watch me crash this town!♫”

Was it a good song? Absolutely not.

Was it the anthem of whatever mess today was going to be?

Hell yes.

And somewhere not too far off, Marinette was probably turning over in bed, sighing sleepily like the universe hadn’t just cleared its throat and muttered, 'Your life’s about to go off the rails.'

"Marilla, Marinette! Hurry up, you'll be late for school!" Sabine shouted from the kitchen.

"Coming!" I said grabbing my Backpack which already had my stuff in it, I unlocked my door and walked past the stairs to Marinette's room as she stumbled down it.

"I bet you anything Chloe will be in my class again." Marinette huffed as she poured a cup of Choco Cereal.

"How do you stand that brand?" I ask looking disgusted, I like chocolate but pretty sure thats 999% chocolate instead of well, even 100%.

Meanwhile im drinking the best thing to have at breakfast, Tea.

I like sweet tea alright?

Marinette just glared at me before going back to moping, "I'll probably have  to deal with Chloe... again. Lucky Me"

"Don't say that, It's the start of a new year, It'll be fine." Sabine Re-assured Marinette.

...Only for Marinette to set the choco down and an orange to roll out, knock over the milk and send a sugar cube flying knocking down the choco spilling it aswell.

Now as a good, proper sibling...

...I burst out laughing at the comical Misfortune.

Marinette froze, arm outstretched mid-cleanup, eyes narrowed like she was calculating the exact sibling tax she was going to unleash later. “I hope a bird poops on your head today.”

"Nah, Im too good at dodging." I say with a grin.

“Ughhhh,” she groaned, flopping dramatically onto the table, face squishing against the sticky surface. “This year is gonna suck. I can feel it. Chloe is gonna make sure of that.”

“You said that last year. And the year before. You’re still alive,” I pointed out, sipping my tea smugly.

“Barely,” she mumbled into the table.

Tom peeked into the kitchen holding a spatula like it was a scepter. “Hey, no dying at the breakfast table unless it’s from how good my croissants are, alright?”

“Too late,” Marinette moaned, still facedown.

Sabine just sighed as she handed her a towel. “Here. Clean up your face.”

As Marinette wiped up the chocolate disaster like it had personally offended her, I scarfed down the rest of my toast and slung my backpack over my shoulder. The piano lyrics were still buzzing in my head.

♫Petrify my heart, breaking through the-" CRUNCH "-start…♫"

Yup. That crunch was the sound of Marinette stepping on the rogue orange.

“It’s going to be one of those days,” she muttered.

I held the door open dramatically like a butler in a vampire novel. “Great princess of fashion, your chariot awaits.”

"We walk to school, its literally across the street." Marinette deadpanned.

We head downstairs to the bakery area as Tom happily holds out a box of macarons.

"Dad these are so awesome!" Marinette says happily grabbing it.

"Thank you dad, the class will love them! Your the best!"

Tom smiles and Headpatts Marinette, "We're the best, thanks to your designs."

"Nah, I think my music did better for the store." I overdramatically brag, a few months ago I stood in front of the store and played random songs, it totally worked... totally... it wasn't like people avoided the store for that entire day thinking I was a random weirdo...

....

...t o t a l l y-

Tom chuckled, giving me a side-eye that was at least 30% playful judgment. “Next time, maybe try not scaring Madame Tanny’s dog into a flower pot.”

“Not my fault that dog thinks punk rock is a threat to national security,” I muttered, biting into another slice of toast. “Besides, he’s got that shifty look. Like he pays taxes.”

Sabine shot me a look over her glasses. “Leave the dog alone, Marilla.”

“Fine,” I said with a shrug. “But if he runs for mayor and bans guitar-mode pianos, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Marinette rolled her eyes so hard I swear I heard them click. “Please don’t talk politics with dogs again at school. Last time you tried that, Ms. Bustier had to give the whole class a ‘respect all sentient beings’ lecture.”

"It was a joke- anyways see ya." I say turning and walking out the door with the sound of Marinette probably stumbling and almost spilling the macarons behind me as she then followed.

"Red light," I grab her backpack before Marinette tripped into the road.

"Thanks- eh." She turned as a certain old man was crossing the side-walk.

I grabbed the Macarons from her as Marinette dragged the man over before a car could hit him.

"WATCH WHERE YOUR GOING SHIT FACE!" I shout at the car as its driving away.

"Thank you miss." The old man said, aka wang fu.

"No problem," Marinette said as I handed the box to her and she held it open for him.

Fu happily took a macaron and took a bite, "Delicious."

"Why were you crossing the road during a red light? I get your old but still?" I say before the bell rings and before I get a responce Marinette grabs my arm and starts dragging me.

"OH NO WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!"

I just accept my fate of being dragged, not caring really.

Marinette stumbled into the classroom as Miss Bustier spoke up, "Nino why not sit in the front row this year?"

"Sweet, seat stealing time," I say overdramatically walking over to Nino's old seat and sitting down.

Nathaniel sits beside me and slumps.

"Rough night?" I ask the shy artist as he awkwardly nods, clearly Tired.

"WAH-" I look towards the alley seeing Marinette fall and spill all but one macaron.

Jesus her luck is bad-

"For those of you who dont know me, I'm Miss Bustier, I'll be your teacher for this year." Miss Bustier introduced despite the fact the only new student is adrien who's not even here yet.

Bustier just started going over the school rules and the generic stuff she said every... single... year.

I side-eye Nathaniel as he was drawing, "Illustrator?" I muse seeing his superhero that wold eventually become his akuma design in like- a week?

Nathaniel flinched a little like he’d been caught doing something illegal, clutching his sketchbook closer. “I-I just like drawing,” he mumbled, cheeks already going pink.

“Relax, I’m not gonna narc on you,” I whispered with a grin, leaning over slightly to peek. “But damn, that guy looks awesome. Illustrator, right? Sick name."

"I... didnt tell you his name?" He questioned making me realize I fucked up and I just shrugged.

"an Illustrator that Illustrates, seems like common sense." I say trying to play it off.

Nathaniel gave me a side-eye like he kinda bought it but also definitely didn’t. He tucked the sketchbook under his arm like I was about to swipe it. Fair enough, honestly. If I saw my imaginary OC get name-dropped by someone I barely knew, I’d be wary too.

I glance and in the corner of my eye seeing Marinette give half a macaroon to Alya, seems there friendship is going well.

"So, I know we've kinda been classmates for I think... a year? two years now? I honestly dont remember when you came to school for the first time." I admitted shrugging and leaning back in my seat.

"But how about a full Introduction? Marilla Dupain-Cheng, I like going on walks, punching things in the gym aaaand music. How about you?" I ask as Nathaniel seems to be thinking for a moment.

Nathaniel's a good guy, shame it takes him so long in the show for him to open up and show his creativity to others and become more confident.

He blinks at me like he’s surprised I’m talking to him again. Then his expression softens, just a little. “Um... Nathaniel Kurtzberg. I like drawing, obviously... I read a lot of comics. Sometimes I write them too, but I never finish.”

“Relatable,” I say, snorting. “I start, like, twelve things and finish one. Maybe.”

His lips twitch like he wants to smile, but he’s too used to hiding it. “Same.”

Before I can respond, a paper ball whaps off the side of my head.

I already know who it is before I even turn.

I slowly turn and lock eyes with Alix across the room. She’s grinning like she just committed a minor felony and got away with it.

I uncrumple the note.

“New year, so how about we get new games. I can pay.”

I grab my pen and scrawl a response before folding it back up and sniping it right back into her forehead.

She catches it too late, flinching dramatically as it bounces off her head and into her lap. She unfolds it, reads the message-

“Bet. You also owe me $20 for kicking your ass 10 - 0 yesterday.”

-and gives me the most offended face in human history, mouthing, 'That was warm-up!' at me while I grin smugly.

I lean over again to Nathaniel. “Anyway. If you ever need someone to hype your art or team up in a dumb shooter game where nothing is fair and that’s the point, I'm your gal.”

Nathaniel actually chuckles under his breath, quiet and low. “I’ll think about it.”

Progress.

The Bell rings as I get up, Mr. Bustier spoke up, "Those of you who have PE, Mr. D'Argencourt is expecting you at the stadium, the rest of you can head to the library."

I hum waiting behind seeing Kim past a note to Ivan who gets angry after reading it.

"KIM!" He turns raising his fist to punch him only for Mrs Bustier to speak up

"Ivan! Whats going on?" She asked as Ivan pauses for a moment.

"Its Kim!" He pointed at him and then turned raising his fist, "I'm so going to-"

"Ivan! Go to the principal's office!"

I stare annoyed, "Miss Bustier, Ivan's mad because Kim did something, shouldn't you, I dunno, send him to the principal's office instead?"

Bustier blinked, caught mid-sentence, and looked at me like I’d just spoken in tongues.

“Marilla, I understand you’re trying to defend your classmate, but violence isn’t the answer,” she said with that eternal smile that felt just slightly more strained now. Like someone gently trying to hold a sandcastle together while the tide rolls in.

“No offense,” I said, throwing my bag over my shoulder, “but neither is ignoring the guy starting the fight. Just saying.”

Kim looked sheepish for half a second before puffing up his chest again like a puffin trying to intimidate a seal. Ivan grumbled as he headed toward the door, muttering under his breath, and I could tell he was holding himself back. Honestly, props to him. If Kim pulled that with me, I would’ve at least tripped him on the way out.

Bustier gave Kim a warning look but didn’t say anything else. Classic.

I hum heading to the stadium with Kim, Alix, Max, Rose and Nino.

So, Stoneheart's going to attack soon which wont be fun but thats like- in a few hours... wait why the fuck does Stoneheart rampage around paris BEFORE coming here?

I hum putting my backpack in one of the seats and heading down to the track where the PE teacher was waiting while questioning that.

Like... seriously- He was angry at Kim and just rampages?

I hum noting the traffic cones the teacher has set out, "Well Alix if he has us do some physical tests through running, we all know who the fastest will be." I say with a grin looking at miss skater herself. Ah, the perks of having best friends.

"Alright," Mr. D'Argencourt spoke up, glancing around the group. "Today’s challenge is simple: a relay race around the track. Teams of three. Fastest wins."

I raised an eyebrow at Kim, who shot a competitive grin back at me. Alix, meanwhile, was already stretching like she was about to break the sound barrier.

I grinned. “Well, Alix, seems I was sorta right.”

She smirked, spinning on one heel. “Guess that means I get to leave you in the dust, ShieldSnail.”

Kim scoffed, folding his arms. “You’re dreaming, Alix. I’m the real speed demon here.”

Max just shrugged, calmly tying his shoelaces like he wasn’t about to be dragged into this little rivalry again.

Rose and I exchanged a quick smile. She gave me a playful shove, like to say, “Good luck surviving this circus.”

Nino leaned against the fence, watching the banter with an easygoing smirk, clearly not too invested but ready to play along.

I nudged Alix as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “Hey, if you’re so confident, why don’t you pick your team first?”

She grinned slyly. “Easy. Me, Marilla, and Rose.”

I shot Rose a look, half surprised, half amused. Rose just shrugged and smiled, clearly ready for whatever chaos we’d bring.

Kim rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine. Then Max, Nino, and me.”

"Girls vs boys, how generic." I grin rolling my eyes.

Mr. D'Argencourt handed two ropes to Kim and two ropes to Alix, I held out my leg so she could tie it, I was of course in the middle since I was the biggest one between me, Rose and Alix.

Kim was in the middle of his team with Nino on his left and Max on his right.

Alix and Kim both immediately launched into full-speed mode the second the race started, their legs pumping like pistons as they tried to pull their teams faster than anyone could reasonably keep up with.

I gripped the rope tight between Rose and Alix, doing my best to keep pace with Alix’s insane bursts of speed. Honestly, I could handle her. She was lightning quick, but I’m no slouch either, and I knew how to pace myself. I just focused on matching her stride and keeping the rope taut.

Rose, on the other hand, was another story.

She was petite and more graceful than fast, and between Alix’s bursts and my steady pace, she was definitely struggling to keep up. Every so often, she stumbled slightly, the rope tugging at her as if it was dragging her along rather than the other way around.

“Hey, Rose, you good?” I asked, glancing back as Alix flashed a cheeky grin, totally oblivious to the fact that she was unintentionally turning Rose into a ragdoll.

Rose managed a shaky smile. “I’m hanging in there…”

Meanwhile, Kim was pulling his team like a machine, relentless and brutal. Max and Nino were holding on for dear life as Kim dragged them forward with a strength that made me grateful I wasn’t on that side.

“Come on, Max! Keep up!” Kim barked, already halfway through the cones laid out on the field.

Max just gritted his teeth, trying to match Kim’s pace, but I could see the strain on his face. Nino, the chillest of the bunch, looked like he was trying to enjoy the ride as much as possible despite being practically yanked along.

As we rounded the cones, Alix started speeding up again, grinning like a maniac.

“Marilla, you better keep up or I’m leaving you in the dust!” she teased, pulling on the rope sharply.

I gritted my teeth and leaned into it, legs pumping. “No way, Alix! You’re the one who’ll be eating my dust!”

Rose stumbled again, nearly losing her footing. I dropped my pace for a moment to steady her, grabbing her arm gently.

“Don’t worry, Rose. You’re doing great,” I said, forcing a smile.

Alix slowed just a hair, noticing the struggle. “Hey, I didn’t mean to turn you into a ragdoll. Sorry!”

Rose laughed breathlessly. “You’re good! Just… maybe a little less rocket mode?”

I glanced over at Kim’s team, who were already halfway through the second lap, Kim looking like he might burst if he pushed any harder.

“Guys, let’s keep it together,” I called, pulling Rose forward again.

Alix, still buzzing with adrenaline, finally settled into a more manageable pace.

By the time we crossed the finish line, I was panting but smiling, Rose flushed but proud, and Alix was already bouncing, ready to do it all over again.

Kim’s team came in just seconds after us, Max and Nino exhausted but still competitive.

“Next round, we’re doing this again,” Kim promised, smirking at Alix.

Alix rolled her eyes. “You’re on, speed demon.”

I wiped sweat from my brow, feeling the familiar mix of exhaustion and pure, ridiculous fun that only a chaotic race like this could bring.

After a few hours of basic tests I sit at the edge of the Stadium, Alix kicks her legs sitting beside me.

"Soo.... why are we sitting here?" Alix questioned as she wanted to head home early while Rose an Kim were doing stretches, Nino already left an Max was helping get all the cones.

"Eh, no reason." I lie straight to her face and I hear a thud on the edge of the stadium.

"KIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM!"

Right on time, I look across the stadium at the gigantic golem form of Stoneheart, he lunged down. "WHOS THE WUSS NOW?"

He started stomping to Kim as Alix shot up, "What the fuck- WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Calm down." I say casually taking a sip of my water bottle.

"CALM DOWN? MARILLA THERES A FUCKING GOLEM!" She screamed pointing at Stoneheart who walked at Kim.

A metal pole stretches down in front of Stoneheart as Kim screams running off, "Its not nice to pick on people who are smaller then you." Chat noir said with a grin.

"Oh great, the golem is going to be defeated by a someone in a leather bondage suit." I say with a wide grin as Alix pauses and lets out a startled laugh.

Chat noir didnt hear this of course as Stoneheart started chasing him instead.

Chat Noir vaulted over Stoneheart’s swinging arm, the impact of the massive stone fist cracking the ground where he just stood. “Whoa! Easy there, Rocky!” he shouted, landing smoothly on a lamp post with cat-like grace.

Stoneheart roared in frustration, turning and slamming both fists into the side of the stadium. A loud boom echoed, sending a wave of dust up like smoke from a demolished building. Pieces of concrete splintered off and clattered across the field.

“ALIX, DUCK!” I shout, grabbing her arm and yanking her down just before a chunk of bleachers skids past like a poorly-thrown frisbee of death.

“ARE YOU SEEING THIS? WHY ARE YOU AACTING LIKE THIS IS NORMAL?!” Alix yelled, her voice a mix of awe and terror as she crawled behind me, peeking over my shoulder. "SUPERHEROES AND SUPERVILLAINS ARE FUCKING REAL?"

“You’re not even slightly freaking out right now?!” Alix’s hair was half full of stadium dust, and her hands shook as she clutched my arm like a lifeline.

“I mean... a little,” I admitted. “But I already know how this ends.”

“What?!” Alix blinked at me.

“Nothing!” I quickly said, eyes locked on the chaos below as Chat Noir flung himself through the air, bouncing off a tree and using the momentum to smack Stoneheart right in the head with his baton.

CLANG

Stoneheart stumbled, took a step back, then swelled larger, his body absorbing nearby rocks and rebar as easily as cotton candy soaking up water.

“Oh god,” Alix breathed, “he gets bigger when you hit him?! That’s the opposite of a video game boss!”

“Yeah, makes it harder to brute-force him. Super annoying,” I commented, popping open another bottle of water.

Chat Noir stared at his baton like it betrayed him. “That usually works!” he whined before diving into a roll as Stoneheart lunged again, missing by a mile.

I spot alya sitting in one of the walkway thingies- whatever there called, tunnels?

Anyways I see Stoneheart picking up one of the soccer posts so I scream, "ALYA YOU DUMBASS GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY!"

I shout as Stoneheart throws the soccer post and Chat noir chucked his metal pole which stretched lodging itself above Alya to hit the post away.

"What are you waiting for Supergirl the world is watching you!" Alya shouted up at Ladybug who was standing concerned on top of the stadiumm.

"AND WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR! GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE YOU GET SQUISHED!" I shouted at Alya who glared at me, mf.

Alya shot me a glare like I’d just insulted her entire family line. “I’m getting content!” she yelled back, phone raised like a sword against common sense.

“Yeah, and you'll be getting flattened if you don’t move your dumbass!”

Stoneheart roared again, this time sounding a lot more pissed off. He stomped after Chat Noir, who was desperately trying to lead him away from the stands.

"Alright time to go," I grab Alix and turn and start running off.

"You only NOW decide to run?" Alix shouted as we start escaping.

“Hey, I said a little freaked out,” I huffed as we bolted across the field, dodging fallen bleachers and broken cones like it was an obstacle course in a disaster movie. “There’s a difference between ‘casually watching superhero combat’ and ‘being in the splash zone of a pissed-off concrete kaiju’!”

Alix gave me a what the hell is wrong with you look, but didn’t stop running. “You are way too chill about this. Were you dropped on your head as a baby?”

“Emotionally, yes,” I shot back, hopping over a cracked piece of track and yanking her arm when she almost tripped. “Physically, probably not.”

Behind us, the stadium was descending into chaos. shouts, crashes, and the weirdly musical twang of Chat Noir’s baton bouncing off Stoneheart’s forehead again.

“WHY DOES HE KEEP HITTING HIM?” Alix screamed, glancing over her shoulder. “HE’S LITERALLY JUST MAKING HIM BIGGER!”

“Maybe he thinks it'll reach critical mass and collapse in on itself like a dying star,” I said, only half joking.

“I SWEAR TO GOD, IF WE DIE BECAUSE OF A DUMBASS IN CAT EARS-”

BOOM. The ground shuddered as Stoneheart stomped hard enough to leave a crater in the track behind us. A shockwave of dust blew past, whipping my ponytail into my face. I spat out a chunk of it, coughing. “Ugh, tastes like school budget cuts.”

We finally made it out of the stadium tunnel and into the backlot area where a few students were already huddled. Rose waved us over frantically, hair frazzled and eyes wide. “What is going on?! I just saw the soccer field get yeeted!”

“Short version? Kim pissed off a giant rock man and now Paris is trending for all the wrong reasons,” I panted, dropping onto a bench.

Kim and Max showed up a moment later, both out of breath. Kim looked like he’d aged ten years. “Why is it always me?!” he groaned, hands on his knees.

“Because you’re you,” Alix and I said in unison.

I grin seeing Ladybug tie her lucky charm to a hose.

"I think everything will be fine in Five, four, three-"

A swarm of ladybugs fly by towards a nearby destroyed building repairing it as it continued on.

"OH COME ON!" I shout seeing I was off by two seconds.

I sigh, paris has gotten a whole lot weirder.

Chapter Text

So its the next day, you might be thinking, what am I doing now?

Planning to get the peacock miraculous?

Talking about 'superheroes being in paris'

Of course not!

Im laying on my bed eating a bag of sour cream and cheddar chips.

Perks about akumas appearing? I can bs my way out of a day of school

'I was emotionally scarred and terrified seeing that horrible villain up close!'

Principal Damocles is a dumbass which is great.

I crunch another chip obnoxiously loud as the newscaster drones on.

“…citizens remain frozen in place since yesterday’s akuma attack. Authorities are urging everyone to remain calm-”

Crunch.

“-as experts work with Scientist to determine-”

Crunchcrunch.

“-whether the affected individuals can be safely returned to their normal states without further confrontation-”

Yeah yeah yeah, yadda yadda, bring out the power of love or some other cliché. I lick the cheese dust off my fingers and wipe the rest on my blanket. Honestly, it’s weird how fast people bounce back from magical trauma in this city. Like, hello? People are statues. That’s not normal.

But hey, it's Tuesday. That means reruns of “Super Gator Squad” at noon. And if the stonepeople stay frozen till then? Even better. No interruptions.

I flip onto my stomach, chip bag crinkling beneath me like the world’s saltiest pillow. The news keeps yapping about “the psychological toll” and “families struggling to cope,” but I tune it out in favor of scrolling through my phone.

Group Chat: Jock + Goth Dumbasses

KimIsALoser: Okay, superheroes are real. What the fuck

AlixIsALoser: And supervillains, like, I dunno- IVAN WHO TURNED INTO A STONE CREATURE AND TRIED TO SQUISH ME!

Marillazilla: Chill, it wasnt Ivan. I saw a weird butterfly fly out from is paperball, some kind of transformation or mind control shenanigans

AlixIsALoser: Cap.

PictureCurse: I mean, becoming a golem is cool as hell

Marillazilla: ^

KimIsALoser: ^

PictureCurse: Wait… waitwaitwait. That butterfly… you think that’s what made Ivan hulk out?

Marillazilla: That’s my theory. Paperball hits him, butterfly shows up, boom, rage monster.

AlixIsALoser: I thought the butterfly was just, like, symbolic or some shit. Like “ooh I’m sad, nature’s crying with me”

KimIsALoser: That’s poetic as hell Kim you good??

AlixIsALoser: IDK MAN I ALMOST DIED OKAY

I snort through my nose at that, choking on chip dust and flopping dramatically onto my side like I’d just been shot. Kim screaming in all-caps never fails to bring me joy.

I toss my phone on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. It’s that off-white color that somehow always looks vaguely moist. The kind of ceiling you stare at when you’re trying not to think too hard about living in a world where people can turn into mythological nightmares over emotional distress.

You know, totally normal Tuesday stuff.

My phone buzzes again. Reluctantly, I lift it with a lazy arm.

PictureCurse: So like… what was that Ladybug chick’s deal?

Marillazilla: Honestly? Kinda iconic.

Which is true. Objectively. She caught a building-sized monster with a yo-yo and then purified a magical butterfly like it was just another Tuesday. I’d say it was cool, but also… terrifying. I mean, if some girl in a spotted spandex suit can do that, what else is out there?

God I wish I had popcorn to go with my chips. This whole thing feels like binge-watching the first season of a show you didn’t even know started yet.

Buzz.

AlixIsALoser: Okay but WHY did that butterfly pick Ivan? He’s like the chillest guy I know unless you insult his mixtape.

The audacity of this bitch.

Marillazilla: I dunno, maybe because someone was bullying him with a paper.

Marillazilla: Maybe because someone was being a jerk

Marillazilla: Maybe someone WAS BEING A FUCKING A S S H O L E!

KimIsALoser: Damn she took out the all caps.

Marillazilla: Yeah, Kim, you really outdid yourself this time. Turning Ivan into a freaking rock monster? Congratulations on being the town’s biggest dumbass. Ever heard of “don’t poke the chill guy with a paper and expect no giant golem”?

AlixIsALoser: Hey! That was just a joke! Chill out, Marilla.

Marillazilla: Joke? Your “jokes” are basically how we ended up with a rampaging stone beast tearing up the city. Real smooth.

KimIsALoser: Damn, Marilla going full savage today. I’m just saying, you kinda had it coming. Ivan’s mixtape was questionable at best.

Marillazilla: Maybe. But if you keep being a prick, next time the butterfly might pick you, and then we’ll have to deal with StoneKim. No thanks.

PictureCurse: 😂🔥 This chat is wild. Someone get popcorn.

"Oh shit already?" I look over at the news.

A Mini-Stoneheart picks up a pink car and throws it at the police who start running.

All nine mini-stonehearts around the city are rampaging becoming active.

"Welp thats Sis' problem." I mute my phone as it blows up with messages from what was going on.

I just eat my chips while watching the Stonehearts rampage, wondering how long it'll take before the news shows the main stoneheart carrying Mylene and Chloe.

I hum, either Bubbler or Stormy Weather is the second ever akuma.

Or would it be third? Does Stoneheart count if there akumatized twice. 

Damn-

I get up walking to my Diary, I need to make logs for the akumas if I plan to be Hawkmoth's assistant

Lets start with the potential next akuma.

Bubbler in episode order appeared first for the US release.

But everywhere else, stormy weather was the first episode.

So either one of them will be the second akuma.

So then, what Sentimonster should I make to help them? Or should I just avoid senti-monsters directly for them and something to just help me?

I tap my pen against the page, chewing over the logistics like it’s a chess game and I’m prepping my next ten moves. If I’m supposed to be the assistant to Hawkmoth, then I need to think smarter than a butterfly with mood-sensing powers.

“Okay... Bubbler’s all about parties and bubbles,” I mutter, flipping to a clean page and writing the name in all caps. “He’s basically a rave-powered balloon animal with anger issues.”

Not exactly someone subtle. He floods the city with floating adults and hosts a tantrum party.

“Which means distraction-heavy, mobility-based support would work best.” I underline mobility.

"Maybe a DJ system with light powers?" I mumble.

Stormy weather is easy, weather girl turned evil? Needs a camera crew. That will be a fun Akuma.

I hear a loud crash and look outside hearing Mylene scream as Stonheart walks by holding Mylene and Chloe.

A few moments later Chat noir is chasing after

...eh who cares.

It'll be resolved soon.

What kind of villain name should I use? Im not taking Mayura, that name fucking sucks.

I scribble 'NOT MAYURA' in all caps at the top of the page with aggressive underlines, circling it for emphasis like I’m trying to personally offend the original name.

“God, Mayura sounds like a fancy tea blend. ‘Now with notes of regret and blue feathers.’”

I snort to myself and start writing down alternatives in messy scrawl:

• Peacock?
  No. That’s just lazy.

• Plumage?
  What am I, a high-fashion bird?

• Majesty?
  Too pretentious.

• Tailfeather?
  …No. Just no.

• Vanity?
  Getting warmer.

• Quill?
  Hm. Has a nice vibe, poetic. Sharp. Could work for more than just a name. Sounds like it cuts.

I tap the pen against my lip, eyes narrowing in thought.

“Vanity… Quill… Vainquill?”

I blink, writing it out slowly like I’ve just discovered fire.

Vainquill.

There it is. Elegant, sharp, dramatic. Sounds like someone who leaves behind a trail of beautiful disasters.

I grin.

“Yeah… Vainquill. That’s got some bite to it.”

I underline it, bold and final.

Vainquill: Assistant to Hawkmoth. Peacock Miraculous user. Tactical mastermind. Queen of dramatics. Stylish as hell.

I toss the pen onto the desk and lean back in my chair, just as the news anchor screams something about Stoneheart climbing the Eiffel tower.

“Yeah, yeah, do your tragic love story,” I mutter, already flipping to the next page.

It’s time to plan logistics.

I know basic boxing and tae-kwon-do, but nothing really else.

I mean my weapon is a fucking fan.

Like ladybug has a yo-yo and the fox miraculous gives a flute, there not weapons either but at least they CAN be used as weapons.

Should I just carry a fucking sword with me? I mean theres no way to change the weapon so I could just carry around a fucking sword.

I draw a line through the sword notes.

“What am I gonna do? Walk into a villain fight looking like a mall ninja? People are gonna think I’m cosplaying as Zorro.”

I throw the sticky note at the trash can. Miss. Of course.

No. No weapons. If the fan’s my 'official' weapon, then I need to lean into what I do have. My fists. Elbows. Knees. Full-body disrespect. If it comes down to it, I’ll just punch someone in the throat and call it a day. Let Ladybug swing from rooftops, I’ll fight like I’m trying to knock out a punching bag that owes me money.

I flip the page again.

Combat Style:
- Close range
- Boxing (Basic)
- Taekwondo (Low intermediate?)
- Street-style improvisation (I can hit someone with a lamp if needed)

I glance back at the screen. The news is just now showing Chloe dramatically being thrown then caught as Stoneheart vomits up the akumas.

Welp thats wraps, there's the end of that and the reveal of Hawkmoth.

So with that all, we're finally done.

I hum tapping my pen waiting...

aaaand-

Butterflies rush by in waves from the lucky charm.

Now, the legend of Ladybug and Chat Noir begins.

And soon...?

The Wrath of Vainquill.

Chapter Text

"Mari, Sweet, Sweet, Mari, Why the ffffffff...." I hold the letter unable to swear as Manon is running around like a chaotic piece of shit. Marinette meanwhile is glaring at me for almost swearing while trying to calm down Manon.

"....fffffudge did you agree to babysit for Sabine's friend." I say while putting some mozerella sticks into the microwave on a plate.

“Because I owe her a favor,” Marinette says through gritted teeth, still chasing Manon who has now scaled the couch and is pretending it’s a pirate ship. “And you also live here, so you’re equally roped in.”

“No, no, no.” I point the mozzarella stick box at her like it’s divine scripture. “I’m the mysterious twin with an emo outfit and totally dramatic future. Babysitting was not in my narrative arc.”

Marinette glares at me with that signature big-sister frown, all judgment and no chill. “Well your narrative arc includes not leaving me to drown in toddlers.”

Manon lets out a war cry and launches herself off the couch, narrowly missing a lamp. I flinch. The lamp, miraculously, survives. My sanity, not so much.

I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. “Mari. You snooze you loose, I'm not dealing with that gremlin child, I can take care of myself, so you can do the same and take care of her."

“She’s not a gremlin,” Marinette says, right as Manon steals the phone to vote for Mireille Caquet. "Also, you can take care of yourself? Did you remember to take your psychiatry pills?" Marinette reminded as I froze.

"...fuck your right." I groan beginning to head to the bathroom.

"MARILLA! LANGUAGE!" Marinette shouted covering Manon's ears with her hands.

I retreat to the bathroom in defeat, muttering under my breath and dodging a rogue Barbie that Manon had apparently weaponized. I yank open the medicine cabinet and stare at the bottle with all the contempt in the world. Tiny white pills of doom. A daily reminder that my brain’s a soup and someone lost the recipe.

“Brain go brrrrrr,” I whisper, popping one and washing it down with a swig of mouthwash, because we’re out of bottled water and I’m too lazy to go downstairs and get a cup.

I stand there, staring at my tired reflection in the mirror, mouthwash burning my throat like it’s judging my life choices. My hair’s doing that tragic puff at the sides again, my eyeliner is smudged like I’ve fought a raccoon in a Denny’s parking lot, and for the record? I absolutely won that fight.

“Why does my life feel like a rejected sitcom plot,” I mutter, wiping at my eye and making it worse.

I head into the living room with Alya being there, Manon now on Marinette's shoulders hanging onto her head. 

"Alright, now let's go to the park!" Alya says happily.

"Mind if I join in?" I say- Only for Alya to yelp, actually fucking Yelp in surprise at me being there.

"Wha- who- Marinette you have a twin?" Alya turned to Marinette who just sheepishly grinned.

"...I sit in the same class as you, I know your new but how did you not know I exist-" I stare dumbfounded.

Alya is still staring at me like I just sprouted horns and declared myself Queen of the Underworld.

Marinette, bless her stressed little heart, tries to smooth it over. “Alya, this is my twin sister, Marilla. Marilla, this is Alya who joined our class two days ago."

"Weren't you the girl who almost got squished by a soccer post being thrown at them by Stoneheart?" I recall as Alya looks embarassed.

Alya crosses her arms, huffing. “Okay first of all, I dodged that post like a total boss, thank you very much, and second of all, what do you mean you’re Marinette’s twin? You look like you crawled out of an alt Tumblr page and cursed your way into existence.”

I dramatically bow. “Thank you. That’s exactly the vibe I was going for.”

Marinette makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a groan, while Manon, still latched to her like a backpack full of chaos, sings something about pirate treasure and starts poking Marinette’s eyes.

“She’s my identical twins,” Marinette explains, trying and failing to pry Manon’s fingers from her face. “But other then that we’re...different.”

“Different?” I repeat, raising a brow. “Try polar opposites. She’s sunshine and rainbows. I’m the dark cloud with resting ‘I hate everything’ face.”

Alya grins. “I like you already.”

“Damn right you do.”

“MARILLA!” Marinette shrieks, again covering Manon’s ears like that would somehow reverse the corruption. “Language!”

“She’s gonna grow up and hear worse on the internet. Let her get a head start.”

Manon, completely unbothered, starts chanting, “Damn right! Damn right!” like she’s discovered the national anthem of rebellion.

Alya snorts. “Welp, you corrupted her. Congrats. You’re now legally responsible for her edgy phase in five years.”

I blink. “No. I refuse that timeline. Not my gremlin.”

“Oh no no,” Alya smirks. “She quoted you. That’s parental imprinting.”

“I’m gonna imprint you into the pavement,” I grumble, stuffing a cold mozzarella stick into my mouth because the microwave never beeped, and having instant hard, cold dairy regret... kill me now.

Alya cackles. Actually cackles. Like some kind of chaos witch who's just watched her spell finally take hold.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” she says, practically vibrating with delight. Manon, now hanging upside down off Marinette’s shoulders like a tiny, sugar-powered bat, parrots: “Fun!”

Marinette looks like she aged ten years in five seconds.

“Okay!” she claps, overly cheerful and under-slept. “Let’s get to the park before I lose what little grasp I have on my sanity.”

"Too late, your already crazy." I say with a grin after heating up my mozerella sticks properly and just grabbing one of the paper bags the bakery uses.

Marinette leads the way with Manon laughing on her head, as I step out the front door I kinda just now realize how convenient our house is.

Too the left? The school across the road, too the right? The park again across the road.

No wonder the bakery gets so many people-

I run to catch up with Alya and Marinette while eating another mozerella stick, and of course Marinette is looking dreamy at a certain blonde kid doing a photoshoot.

"Huh, some kinda celebrity?" I mutter with a mouthfull of mozerella sticks acting like I have no clue who adrien is since well- I shouldnt considering the only day he actually came to school so far I was absent.

Alya glances at me like I just kicked a puppy. “Some kinda celebrity? Girl, that’s Adrien Agreste. You know, Gabriel Agreste’s son? Mega-famous designer? The face of half the fashion industry? Ringing any bells?”

I shrug, chewing obnoxiously loud. “Cool.”

Marinette turns redder than her pajamas. “H-He’s not just some celebrity- he’s... he’s nice.”

"Simp." I say with a wide grin seeing Marinette sputter.

Alya nearly doubles over laughing. “Oh my God, you can’t just say that!”

“I can and I did,” I reply proudly, mozzarella stick clenched between my teeth like a victory flag. “Next up on Simp Watch 24/7, we have local bakery gremlin Marinette Dupain-Cheng, caught in the act of heart eyes mid-daydream.”

Marinette smacks my arm with the flattest palm imaginable. “You’re the gremlin! And it’s not like that!”

“Oh, sweet child,” Alya coos dramatically, wiping an imaginary tear. “It’s exactly like that.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bully?” Marinette grumbles.

“Absolutely not,” I grin, swinging my mozzarella stick bag like a shopping purse. “This is my daily dose of serotonin.”

Alya nods solemnly. “Better than caffeine.”

“And cheaper than therapy,” I add.

Manon, never missing a beat, cheerfully chirps, “Simp simp simp!”

Marinette groans into the child. “This is my life now.”

"So, whats your plan on swooning Adrien?" I ask eating another mozerella stick knowing this is going to be entertaining.

Marinette took a deep breath, "I'llwalkbyandactrealsmoothandthenIllinvitehimattheendafterthephotoshootthenwellgetmarriedandliveinabeautifulhouseandhavetwo,actuallythreekidsandadogmaybeacat,forgetthecatHAMSTERS!Ilovehamsters."

I abruptly slap her. "BREATHE WOMAN! BREATHE!"

Marinette blinks, stunned out of her fantasy spiral. “Ow! What was that for?!”

“For almost dying mid-sentence!” I say, waving my mozzarella stick like a gavel. “You were about to ascend to a higher plane of thirst.”

“I wasn’t!” she protests, adjusting Manon, who now seems equally invested in the drama. The gremlin child claps her hands. “HAMSTERS!!”

“See? You’ve corrupted the youth,” I deadpan. “We’re gonna have a whole generation of manic Adrien-stans if we don’t do something soon.”

Alya recovers enough to wipe a tear from her eye. “Okay, but listen... that was maybe the most Marinette plan I’ve ever heard.”

Marinette groans and hides her face behind her pigtails. “Why am I like this?”

“Because God made you cringe for balance since I'm too cool.”

I just follow as Marinette and Alya walk near the photo shoot but out of the way and Marinette awkwardly smiles there waiting for Adrien to notice her.

Manon meanwhile spots the balloons nearby and turns tugging on Marinette's hand over and over, "Can I get a Mireille Balloon! Can I! Can I! Can I! Can I! Can I!" She asked repeatedly tugging her hand.

"SILENCIO!" The photographer turned around glaring at us, I just eat another mozerella stick.

"Here, I'll take you to get a-" Alya crouched down only for Manon to hug to Marinette's leg.

"NO! I want marinette to take me!"

Marinette froze before sighing, "I'm her babysitter, I'll take her."

As the two walk off I eat another mozerella stick.

I look into the sky and wait.

Manon gets the balloon, runs around as Alya goes to sit aaand- Bam!

In the sky is the weather akuma herself with nobody noticing her yet.

So... Stormy Weather... what should I do? I know shes going to get mad and freeze the carousal locking Manon and Alya in there but uh- What the fuck can I do about that? Im a normal human girl with a bag of mozerella sticks.

On que Stormy Weather pointed her umbrella at the carousal and blasted people away as a dome of wind spun around it and then froze.

"HEY! WEATHER LADY! WHAT WAS THAT FOR!" I shout up like an idiot as the Akuma glares down at me.

Stormy Weather turns her icy glare toward me, the kind of glare that makes you reconsider every life choice you ever made. “Punishment for supporting that harlot Mireille,” she says, voice cold as the frost crackling around her. “She shouldn't have been chosen as a weather reporter, she's just a useless piece of trash.”

I blink, mouth half-open, because... what? Since when did an akuma start giving out unsolicited critiques on fashion and taste?

Before I can even process the insult, she points her umbrella right at me, and a searing beam of ice shoots out.

I dive to the side just in time, feeling the chill whoosh past where I was standing. But as I scramble up, I glance down, and my stomach drops.

My precious bag of mozzarella sticks, the holy grail of my snack stash, now frozen solid inside a block of ice.

I reach out, shaking the icy tomb like a desperate kid trying to free a trapped puppy. "MY MOZERELLA STIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICKS!" I scream like I lost a child.

The Akuma flinches.

Like. Actually flinches.

“I... I- what?” she stammers, halfway through gearing up for another dramatic monologue. “Why are you yelling like that?”

“BECAUSE THAT WAS THE LAST PACK IN THE FREEZER SECTION AND NOW IT'S A DAIRY POPSICLE!” I roar, hoisting the frozen bag over my head like it’s Simba from The Lion King, except instead of pride, I am exuding sheer emotional devastation. “DO YOU KNOW WHAT I WENT THROUGH TO GET THESE? A SCREAMING TODDLER BLOCKED THE AISLE FOR TEN MINUTES! I HAD TO DO PARKOUR OVER A BASKET OF AVOCADOS!”

Stormy Weather just sort of hovers there, umbrella slowly lowering. She seems confused. Everyone does. Honestly, even I'm a little confused. What am I doing?

"AGH! I DONT HAVE TIME FOR THIS!" Stormy Weather shouts before pointing her umbrella at me and firing a beam of purple Lightning.

I take this as my message to gtfo as I turn and run, hearing her firing bolts at more people.

I hum and take out my trusty phone, fuck stormy weather I hope Ladybug kicks her ass.

I use the GPS to find my way to the agreste mansion.

"Bing bong," I mutter poking the call button on the gates over and over and over and over and over and ov-

The speaker flickers a bit, "Whos there, what do you want?" Nathalie's voice comes over the speaker.

"Oh, I'm Marilla, One of Adrien's classmates, he forgot some homework." I say lying bluntly.

The slot opens, shit I forgot about that- "You can put the home-"

"The Butterfly and Peacock Miraculous." I say coldly as I can hear Nathalie's shocked silence on the other end.

"Mind if I speak to Gabriel?" I ask in the most sweet tone possible, blinking heavily at the camera.

The silence from the other end of the speaker stretches just a little too long.

Then: click.

The gates don’t open. No response.

I stare at the speaker, still blinking sweetly. “Rude.”

And then, just when I think I’ve been ghosted, the iron gates creak open with an ominous whirrrr that sounds like a horror movie villain getting out of bed.

I take a deep breath, straighten my posture, and strut inside like I own the place. Mozzarella stickless. Dignity in shambles. Mood? Chaotic neutral.

The Agreste mansion looms ahead like a fashion-forward haunted house. I’m halfway up the pristine path when the front door opens, of course before I can knock, and Nathalie stands there, framed in cold air and colder judgment.

She eyes me like I’m a roach in high heels. “You said something very dangerous on a recorded line.”

I flash my best smile. “That’s me. Dangerously charming.”

She doesn't return the smile.

“I’ll give you five minutes,” she says, stepping aside. “Don’t touch anything.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I lie, stepping in and already eyeballing the interior like I might steal a couch cushion just for fun.

The air inside smells like wealth, control, and emotional repression. Portraits of Adrien line the walls like a shrine. I fight the urge to leave snarky post-it notes on each one.

Nathalie leads me through the mansion and stops in front of a huge door. She knocks once, sharp and surgical. “Sir. She’s here.”

For a moment, nothing.

Then Gabriel Agreste’s voice floats through. “Send her in.”

Nathalie gives me one last 'I will vaporize you if you try anything' glare and opens the door.

I step inside.

Gabriel is at his desk, cold and composed in that perfectly villainous, billionaire-designer way. His back is to me, but he turns slowly, deliberately. “You’ve said something very foolish.”

I grin. “Then you’ll be relieved to know I say a lot of foolish things.”

His eyes narrow. “Who are you really?”

I step forward, folding my arms. “Like I said. Marilla. Classmate. And someone who knows a lot of secrets, Hawkmoth."

Gabriel glares at me, "How do you know these things?"

"Why would I tell my secrets to a potential buisness partner?" I say with a grin sitting down.

He stares at me. Silent. Sharp. Calculating.

I can feel the weight of his scrutiny trying to peel me apart like a badly sewn dress seam. He’s not used to people talking to him like this, not at his home, not at work, and definitely not in his villain lair disguised as a minimalist art deco hellscape.

"I should call security," he says coldly, voice low like a growl wrapped in a silk scarf.

"You could," I say, casually crossing my legs. "But then I'd scream. Loud. I mean really loud. The kind of scream that gets the police and maybe a few news stations to come running. ‘Girl Found in Agreste Mansion!’ Wouldn’t that look lovely next to your Fall Collection debut?"

He doesn’t flinch. But he doesn’t press the intercom either.

"Blackmail," he mutters, disgusted.

"Negotiation," I correct, plucking a speck of lint off my sleeve like I belong here. "You see, we both have things we want. You want to keep your little moonlight villain hobby a secret, and I want answers. The kind you can’t Google. Or steal from a yo-yo-wielding superhero with ADHD."

Gabriel stands and walks around the desk, slow, deliberate, like a panther in pressed slacks.

"And what exactly do you want to know?"

I lean back slightly, watching him with a grin that says ‘I am very much bluffing and you should be worried about how convincing I am.’

"Oh, you know. The usual. Why the hell you're terrorizing the city in your downtime. Why you thought dressing like a metallic moth was a good branding decision. Why you treat your son like a prop in a high-budget hostage situation. Just normal teenage curiosity."

His jaw clenches at the mention of Adrien.

"I do what I must for my family," he says.

"Right," I nod. "Like every good Saturday morning cartoon villain. Look, Gabe-"

"Gabriel," he snaps.

"Gabey, listen," I continue without missing a beat. "Your doing villainy all wrong!"

Gabriel stared at me for a moment, "Explain."

I lean up in my seat, "Look. The heroes are Chat Noir and Ladybug, and you can only create one akuma per transformation, thats a one vs two. And you expect to win with those odds?"

"So, Im giving you a great oppertunity!" I say leaning back again and turning to stare at the painting of his wife in his office, making it a point to show I know whats behind it without saying it.

"The Peacock Miraculous... broken and dangerous to whoever wields it, but the power of sentimonsters? Thats an incredibly powerful ability right?" I say grinning, "So, why not give it to me?"

"Why would I ever do such a thing?" Gabriel said immediately trying to shoot down my idea.

"Because your not going to win with just one villain vs two heroes, and why would you care if a random teenager dies? You'd still be able to get your wife back, and if I live as you get both miraculous? Just wish my disease from the broken miraculous onto some random criminal." I explain trying to make my offer seem reasonable.

Gabriel studies me.

And for once, he doesn’t speak right away. That silence? That’s a businessman doing math. Not numbers, but risk, reward, threat, leverage, optics. And if he’s not immediately throwing me out or akumatizing me on the spot, then I know I’ve done something rare:

I’ve made Gabriel Agreste think.

“You have no training,” he finally says, voice thin as ice. “No experience. No loyalty. And you’ve just walked into my home and blackmailed me.”

"I go to the gym and I know boxing and Taekwondo." I point out with a grin.

Gabriel’s gaze sharpens, the kind of look that could freeze fire itself. “Gym and martial arts are not the same as control. Not the same as power.”

He turns away from me briefly, moving with the calculated grace of someone who commands more than just a room, he commands fear.

Slowly, deliberately, he reaches up to the portrait of his wife. The painting slides aside with a soft click, revealing a recessed safe embedded into the wall.

Without a word, he pulls open the safe and extracts a small, ornate box. The Peacock Miraculous.

It’s not pristine. Cracks spiderweb across its surface, faint blue light flickering weakly through the fractures. The broken power humming softly, dangerously.

He steps back and extends the box toward me, his voice low and gravelly. “Take it. But know this: you will not just carry its power. You will carry its curse. If you fail me, if you disappoint me-”

His glare cuts sharp as a blade.

“-I will make sure you regret every breath you take.”

I lock eyes with him, not flinching. The weight of the moment presses down, but I only grin wider.

“I don’t intend to disappoint.”

Gabriel snorts, half-amused, half-disgusted, and gestures toward the door.

“Then get out. The clock is ticking.”

I hum putting the peacock miraculous into my jacket, "Your forgetting something."

Gabriel tilts his head, "What am I possibly forgetting?"

I raise two fingers, "One, give me your phone number so I can communicate with you and Two, an alibi. Your going to need me to come give reports, right? So how about make me like- Adrien's assistant since you have Nathalie as your assistant."

"Fine, you begin in three days, come looking more professional. Now Leave." Gabriel said annoyed while scribling the number onto a sticky note and handing it to me who I take and walk out.

I walk past Nathalie and Gorilla to head home, I hum taking out my phone and opening the Ladyblog.

Alya is recording the stormy weather battle at the top of the radio tower from the street so of course, not a lot to see.

So that fights almost over, I hum heading home.

I arrive home and sneak past Tom and Sabine who are watching the TV as I go to my room and lock the door.

"Alright, lets see how your like, come on out Duusu." I mutter as I clip the peacock miraculous onto the inside of my jacket fully, a blue light spiralled out of it spinning.

“Helloooo! New user! New user! This is exciting! Yay! We’re gonna be a team! Woo!” Duusu’s voice is high-pitched and jittery, bouncing between joy and nervousness in seconds.

Then suddenly, they slump, a faint sob catching in their breath. “I... I miss Emilee... she was so steady. So calm. Why did they break me? Why am I like this? Why do I feel like this?” Their voice cracks, filled with genuine sadness.

Before I can say anything, Duusu snaps, frustration boiling over. “And you! You think you can handle this? You’re just a kid playing dress-up with power you don’t understand! What if you ruin everything? What if you break me more? What if you-”

They cut off, sinking into a lazy sprawl across the desk, eyes half-closed. “Ugh. Whatever. I’m tired. You better feed me soon or I’m not moving.”

I watch them with a mix of amusement and concern, the reality of the broken Miraculous sinking in deeper than ever.

"Alright... Uh- I'm Marilla, so your my Kwami, uh... whats your favorite food?" I question slowly.

"Almonds! I love Almonds!" Duusu shot up happily, "Actually I hate them- No wait I love them! Eh, there fine." Duusu muttered continuing to change speratically.

I blink, watching Duusu’s jittery flip-flopping like they’re a squirrel on a caffeine crash. “Cool. Almonds it is, then. Guess I’m stocking up.”

They bounce up and down on the desk, then flop sideways dramatically like some kind of tiny, moody acrobat. “You better be ready for this, Marilla. I’m... complicated. Like a Rubik’s cube designed by a mad scientist.”

I grin, slipping a few almonds into my pocket like I’m preparing for battle rations. “Well, complicated’s kinda my thing. Let’s figure this out together.”

Duusu’s eyes glint mischievously. “Oh, you have no idea what you just signed up for. But hey, at least you’re not boring!”

"Welp, this might be stupid but lets try this out," I grin holding the Peacock Miraculous out.

I pause remembering something, "Theres an evil and good command for every Miraculous, is Spread my Feathers the good command or evil one?"

"Why would you use me for evil? Being evil is a great idea!" Duusu said in there usual constant changing.

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Come on, Duusu, we’re trying to be Hawkmoth’s assistant here. Evil is kinda the point.”

Duusu wiggles anxiously, their colors shifting from bright blue to a dark purple, then back again. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for evil! I’m more of a chaotic neutral, honestly.”

I chuckle and tap the Miraculous. “Well, you better get used to it. ‘Spread my Feathers’ has to be the good command, right? So what’s the evil one?”

Duusu spins in a little circle on the desk, their voice dropping to a dramatic whisper: “The evil command is ‘Unleash my Plumes!’ "

I shrug, "Alright then."

I hold the miraculous out again.

"Duusu, Spread my Plumes!"

Duusu swirls into a blue light and lands into the Miraculous, I attach it to my jacket as the blue light spreads turning my jacket into a deep, indigo blue with a feathered collar and Cuffs, I twirl as the end of my jacket extends to look like a Peacock's tail.

I take a dramatic step with each foot as the light spreads across them forming light blue cowboy boots with pink buttons, blue jeans form with a long dark blue belt. and a black sweater under the jacket.

I reach up and cover my eyes with my hands and spread it out as a full helmet forms around my head, a full head mask with a cyan lens and glowing white eyes staring out from the Lens.

"Damn, I look hot." I say into the mirror doing a few poses, I notice a blueish-grey glint as I grab the side of my belt and pull out a fan.

"This... definently doesnt look like Mayura's fan."

The fan was more solid and looked less like well- feathers, there was weirdly some buttons?

I click one and... pull one of the feathers out, except it wasnt a feather.

"No way..." I mutter staring at what was in my hand... a blade, I have a fan of throwing knives.... I HAVE A FAN OF FUCKING THROWING KNIVES! THIS IS SICK!

I grin wide, heart racing with excitement. Throwing knives? Yes, please. This fan just went from accessory to lethal weapon in my book.

I spin it open fully, the blades catching the light and sending little gleams across the room. “This… this changes everything.”

I practice a few quick flicks, the blades slicing through the air with a satisfying whistle. “Hah! Who needs a sword when you’ve got this?”

Striking a pose in front of the mirror, I whisper, “Vainquill, ready for action.” The name feels perfect now, sharp, stylish, and deadly.

I’m already imagining the chaos I’ll stir up with this kind of power. This is the start of something… spectacular.

Chapter Text

The intro starts with the music kicking in and the camera going towards the eifle tower but Past Marinette to Marilla standing at the other side.

It zooms into her face showing Marilla sitting in class with her legs on the desk.

"In the Daytime, I'm Marilla"

Alix skates past her Fistbumping Marilla

"Just a weird girl, with a crazy life"

Nathaniel sits down as Marilla reaches into her jacket showing the Peacock Miraculous.

"But theres something about me that nobody know's yet..."

Duusuu spins out as the background turns blue and flies into Marilla who dramatically jumps off the eifle tower and transforms into Vainquill.

"...Cause I have a secret"

The light pops showing Vainquill's costume as she spreads her arms and Ladybug swings by as Vainquill glides after.

"MIRACULOUS!"

Vainquill chases Ladybug as feathers fly from her and cover the screen.

"Simply the Best!"

The Fan Knives are thrown across the blue screen splitting it up showing pictures of Marilla and Vainquill.

"Up to the test"
"to make things go wrooong"

The camera shows various Senti-monsters as it cams up to Vainquill standing behind Hawkmoth as the Hideout light opens and she looks back smiling as feathers fill the room with the butterflies rising.

"Miraculous!"
"The Stro-on-gest!"

Marilla stands in an alley coughing in the night with the puddle under her showing Vainquill looking on sadly.

"The power of in me always so strong!"

Vainquill draws her fan with the camera rotating at her to look at Ladybug and Chat Noir who draw there Yo-Yo and Staff.

"Miraculoooous!"

Vainqull runs at the two heroes and before they can clash everything turns blue and the titlecard appears

Miraculous Peacock!

The Titlecard had Vainquill's feathers around it.

Chapter Text

I groan trying to hit my alarm as it rings abnoxiously.

"Shut up... shut up..." I keep missing as im too lazy to just lean up from my bed.

Duusu flies out and hits the alarm for me. "So you have to go to a school? Whats a school. I know what a school is! Wait do I?" Duusu rambles.

I bury my face into the pillow. “Please… five more minutes…”

Duusu zips in a little circle. “Is it like a gladiator arena? Are you gonna battle? Is there singing? Or is it… prison with homework?!”

That last one gets me to groan louder. “Basically.”

I roll out of bed like a corpse flopping out of a casket and hit the ground with a grunt. “Okay okay okay... I’m up. I’m up. Ugh.”

Stumbling to my feet, I grab some clothes, black jeans, a black undershirt, and my jacket, which Duusu immediately dives into and hides like a little squeaky gremlin. Their nose pokes out for a second. “Is it illegal to bring a Kwami to school?”

“Probably.”

“I’m a criminal now?! Cool.”

I just shake my head and trudge toward the ladder. Marinette’s room sits right above mine, and I can already hear her humming something way too cheerful for this hour. Of course she’s a morning person.

"Happy Birthday Adrien," Marinette says dreamily at her Computer screen which is just a ton of photos of Adrien layered together as I push up the Latch to the trapdoor to her room.

"You know, you met that guy what- five days ago? Kinda creepy you have that many photos of him." I say teasingly like a good sister I am.

She yelps like a startled squirrel and practically throws herself at the computer, slamming it shut with a loud clack. "You-! Why do you keep doing that?! You can't just pop up like some cryptid gremlin through my floor!"

I smirk, half-asleep and fully unrepentant. "Cryptid Gremlin is my stage name, thanks."

Marinette spins in her chair, her face the color of her favorite sweater, embarrassed red. “And for your information, they’re reference photos! For… fashion design!”

"Uh-huh," I drawl, pulling myself up into her room and flopping face-down onto the beanbag chair. "You design for Adrien Agreste now? Does he know? Should I send him a warning?"

She throws a pillow at me with perfect aim, smacking me in the side of the head. “He’s a model, okay? It’s literally his job to be photographed. I just, organize my favorites.”

I raise an eyebrow, peeking up through my tangled bangs. “Do you also rank them? Like, ‘Top Ten Adrien Smiles That Could Cure the Common Cold’?”

There’s a beat of silence.

“…That’s actually not a bad title,” she mutters, pulling the pillow back into her lap.

I snort, dragging myself upright. “You’re hopeless.”

Duusu pokes their nose out of my jacket again and says, “I like the one where he’s holding a tiny dog. He looks soft. Like a marshmallow boy. I want to hug him.”

“Thank you, Duusu,” I mumble. “That’ll haunt my dreams.”

Luckily Marinette didnt seam to hear Duusu as she grabs a present. "Im going to give this to Adrien for his Birthday."

"Neat," I say with the care of a sister listening to there sister's love life. None.

Marinette grabs her Backpack as I head down the ladder and wait for her to come down.

I lead the way heading down the steps as Sabine shouts from the kitchen, "Girls! Remember to clean your rooms after school!"

"But mooom, Its friday and Im going to do something with Alya." Marinette whined.

"I'll clean my room," I said while shrugging, not too big a deal even if its annoying, I can game with Alix any time.

"Fine fine, I'll clean your room Marinette, but dont complain if I come across anything private like E-mails or a diary, or-"

"I'll clean it!" Marinette practically squeaked! "Love you mom, bye." She turned rushing down the stairs as I chuckle.

We arrive at school and Marinette hides behind the side of the stairs with Alya walking over hyping her up to give the gift.

Weirdos.

"Happy Birthday Adrien," I say casually walking past him.

"Oh thanks Marinette."

I pause- did this motherfucker.

"it's MARILLA, I get twin sisters make things confusing but does Marinette have Eyebags or wear leather?" I turn staring annoyed at him as he instantly looks embarassed.

Nino stands beside him grinning at his best friend's misfortune while blowing bubbles.

Adrien immediately raises both hands in surrender, face going redder than Marinette on Valentine’s Day. “Sorry! Sorry! I wasn’t looking, honest mistake!”

“Mm-hm,” I say, squinting at him like I’m trying to figure out if he’s legally blind or just chronically dumb.

He fidgets with the strap of his backpack like it’s personally offended me. “I-I mean, you’re both super nice and… twin-y? I didn’t mean anything bad!”

“You’re digging, blondie,” I warn, crossing my arms.

Duusu’s voice mutters from inside my jacket like a whisper in a horror movie, “We should stab him with the fan.”

“No,” I hiss under my breath. “No stabbing. Not before lunch.”

Adrien, mercifully unaware he narrowly avoided a glittery peacock-themed assassination, coughs awkwardly. “Right. Marilla. Got it. Sorry again.”

I nod, satisfied, and walk off past him with the confidence of someone who could ruin your life but chooses not to.

Behind me, I hear Nino snort. “Bro, you got death-glared so hard I think your soul just filed a complaint.”

"Shut up," Adrien groans.

I walk past Chloe as I stop a bit to overhear her.

"Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing? Is it's Adrien's birthday?" Chloe complained to Sabrina.

"Shouldn't you know that since your his 'best friend.'" I say sarcastically glaring at Chloe, Blonde bitch.

Chloé turns to me like I just tracked mud on her designer shoes. “Excuse me?” she huffs, flipping her hair like it’s a self-defense weapon.

I grin. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I break the illusion? My bad, I forgot your reality is built on lies and overpriced mascara.”

Sabrina visibly winces like she just got secondhand whiplash from standing too close to the blast radius.

Chloé scoffs, crossing her arms with that trademark pout she probably practiced in a mirror since birth. “Please. Adrien and I have been best friends since forever. We practically grew up together-”

“And somehow you still didn’t know it was his birthday?” I interrupt, cocking an eyebrow. “Sounds like your ‘best friend’ privileges expired along with your fashion sense.”

“Oh please,” she snaps, voice rising. “Like you’re anyone to talk, walking around looking like your going to a funeral."

I overdramatically put my hand to my chest, “You say that like it’s not a compliment.”

Chloé narrows her eyes, and I can see her loading her next insult like she’s rebooting her internal drama queen software. “You’re just jealous,” she says, tone dripping with the smugness of someone who thinks Gossip Girl is a documentary. “Some of us are born with class, money, and actual taste.”

I grin wider, letting her walk straight into it. “And yet, none of those things helped you keep Adrien around, huh?”

Sabrina lets out a choked giggle before quickly pretending to sneeze.

Chloé gasps like I slapped her with a wet Dior scarf. “You witch! Adrien and I are just, busy lately! That doesn’t mean we’re not still close.”

“Sure, if by ‘close’ you mean he tolerates you like a pigeon on a park bench.”

Her mouth opens and closes like a fish that just found out it's not the main character.

“Anyway,” I add, walking past her like the scene's over, “if you need help remembering his birthday next year, I can draw you a chart. Maybe throw in some flashcards. Y’know, something on your reading level.”

“You’re so immature! Its ridiculous, Utterly Rediculous!” she screeches behind me.

“I’m literally the most mature person here,” I call back. “I haven’t thrown a tantrum all day. What about you?”

I hear her heel stomp against the floor like she’s trying to summon Satan via temper tantrum. I’m almost disappointed the floor doesn’t crack open beneath her.

I head into class and sit down in the back beside Nathaniel again who's drawing, "Lemme guess your next issue of Illustrator?" I ask while sneaking an almond out of my pocket and handing it to Duusu who ate it happily from my jacket Pocket.

Nathaniel glances up from his sketchpad when I speak, startled for a second like I’ve just yanked him out of a dream. His red hair’s a bit tousled, probably from running a nervous hand through it too many times, and he blinks at me like he’s recalibrating his brain for conversation.

“Uh… yeah,” he says, voice quiet as ever. “I’m working on the cover. I thought I’d do a dramatic sunset thing. Y’know, real comic-book vibes.”

I nod, plopping into the seat beside him. “Nice. Let me guess, The Illustrator standing on a rooftop, wind blowing dramatically, looking like he’s about to monologue?”

Nathaniel gives a tiny, almost involuntary smile. “Maybe. Depends if I can get the perspective right. Rooftops are evil.”

Duusu nibbles daintily on the almond I slipped her, hidden safe in the inside pocket of my jacket. She hums softly, content. I keep a hand loosely over the spot just in case someone gets nosy, but no one’s looking. Nathaniel’s too focused on his drawing, and everyone else is still busy riding the wave of gossip from the Chloe roast that just went down.

(Seriously, I’m pretty sure Rose and Juleka high-fived. Max typed something like STATISTICALLY FATAL VERBAL EXECUTION into his tablet. Marinette looked like she was suppressing a full-body laugh. Mylène just looked vaguely afraid.)

Nathaniel shifts slightly, glancing at me with that hesitant kind of curiosity he always has, like he wants to say something but isn’t sure if it’ll come out weird.

“You, uh… always carry almonds around?”

I shrug. “Gotta snack smart. Protein and Duusu likes 'em.” I freeze for half a second, realizing my slip, then quickly correct, “Uh, I mean I like 'em. Yeah. I like almonds.”

He raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t pry. Just nods slowly like he’s not buying it, but also not planning to call me out on it.

There’s a small silence, the kind that could either get awkward or settle into something kinda nice, depending on how you treat it. Nathaniel breaks it by turning his sketchpad a little toward me.

“Wanna see?”

I lean over, glancing at the half-finished page. It’s detailed, lots of soft shading, dynamic lines, a hero in the middle of a leap across a cityscape. Even incomplete, it’s good. Like, really good.

“This is dope,” I mutter, genuinely impressed. “You ever think about selling this stuff? Like, for real?”

He shrugs, sheepish. “Maybe. It’s just a school thing right now. Kind of a hobby.”

I nudge him lightly with my elbow. “Well, your hobby could kick most people’s careers in the ass.”

Nathaniel turns pink almost immediately, eyes darting back to the page like it just became the most fascinating thing in the universe.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, voice barely audible over the classroom noise.

Behind us, someone tosses a paper airplane across the room. Ms. Mendeleiev hasn't shown up yet, and the chaos is slowly reaching critical mass. Alya’s trying to corral Marinette into doing something productive (which will inevitably lead to disaster), Kim and Alix are arguing about who won their race to school, and somewhere in the back, Chloe is probably still seething like an overboiled teapot.

I glance down at my jacket. Duusu’s done with her snack, now tucked deep inside the lining and lightly snoozing, wings twitching in her sleep. I gently zip the pocket shut just enough so no one can peek in if they get curious.

Five days. That’s all it’s been since school started.

Five days since I found myself in this building with a miraculous I probably wasn’t supposed to have, a kwami I definitely wasn’t supposed to meet, and a plan that definitely wasn't technically a plan.

And already?

I’ve got enemies, allies, secrets, and a seat at the back of the class beside a shy artist who I'm going to force to be social.

I wait for school to be over and I rush home, which is across the street.

"Alright, Nino will be akumatized soon and will be here to kidnap me for his party SO!"

I grin, "Duusu, Spread my Plumes!"

I transform into Vainquill and grab a random pen and reach into my fan, "Alright... Invision what I want and..."

I grip the white feather that I pull out of my fan and imbue it with my emotion of secrecy, I slap it into the pen and there was black and blue bubbles before another me appears.

"Hello Senti-Marilla, I gave you my memories so you know the deal?" I ask while handing her the Amok.

"Get kidnapped while you go prepare the actual sentimonster? Yep." Senti-Marilla says while doing Finger-Guns.

Senti-Marilla plops herself down on the beanbag with the confidence of someone who’s totally cool being abducted by a deranged birthday clown with bubbles. She grabs the console controller off the coffee table and starts up a random game, casually adjusting her position as if she doesn’t have the responsibility of being the decoy for an upcoming kidnapping.

“Let me know when he’s banging on the window,” she says with a yawn, thumb tapping rhythmically on the buttons.

I nod, already undoing the Miraculous on my jacket, and with a soft shimmer of feathers, I’m back to plain old Marilla. The five-minute timer’s no joke, and I don’t want to push it. The last thing I need is Duusu falling asleep mid-flight and us crash-landing into Nino’s dramatic soap opera of an akumatization.

“Good work,” I tell Duusu as I scoop the kwami into my hands.

“I was majestic,” they hum smugly, wings fluttering as they sniff the air. “Now where’s my reward? I demand the finest snack from the finest pantry.”

I roll my eyes and grab a small pack of almonds off my desk. I hand them over like I’m bestowing a royal tribute, and Duusu accepts them with a little bow, immediately diving in.

Satisfied that Operation Decoy is rolling smoothly, I step into the hallway, glance around, then slip into the closet near the front door. It’s cramped, full of coats and the smell of dust and pine-scented Febreze, but it’s good enough for now.

And no, I am not hiding in the closet.

I’m waiting in a closet. Totally different thing.

Duusu floats up beside me, almond crumbs dusting their mouth. “This is undignified.”

I whisper back, “You live in a brooch.”

“…Touché.”

A muffled boom comes from the direction of the school. A distant shout. A yelp. Bubbles. I grin.

“Showtime.”

Meanwhile, Senti-Marilla’s mid-boss fight, muttering under her breath about lag and how if she’d known getting kidnapped involved waiting this long, she would’ve brought snacks.

Then: THWUMP!

The window blasts open in a dazzling puff of sparkling pink bubbles. A familiar voice shouts:

“MARILLA! IT’S PARTY TIME!”

Senti-Marilla looks up and throws her hands in the air like this is the most inconvenient thing ever. “Finally! Took you long enough!”

The Bubbler swoops in, his bubble staff held high and glowing. “I come to liberate the youth of Paris from the tyranny of boring birthdays!”

“Yeah yeah, let’s get to the ‘kidnap me and float into the sky’ part already,” Senti-Marilla says, grabbing her backpack.

Bubbler tilts his head. “Wait… you’re really not gonna struggle or run away?”

Senti-Marilla grins. “Buddy, I already beat two boss fights and did my math homework. This is just my side quest.”

“…Alright then.”

With a shrug, he flicks his staff, and a massive bubble swallows her whole. She waves from inside it as it lifts her out the broken window and into the sky.

"Duusu, Spread my Plumes." I say after they leave and re-transform, grabbing the pack of almonds to reacharge after I make another Senti-monster.

I wait as I see the sky filled with bubbled adults, I see Sabine and Tom get dragged into the air through bubbles.

I continue to wait till Ladybug is a decent bit away, Bubbler doing his announcement from his bubbles, yada yada. I climb through Marinette's room to the balcony.

I jump as high as I can and spread my arms, my jacket spreading like feathers floating me forward like a paraglider.

I know the party will be at the Agreste Mansion, but also Ladybug will prob be spying on the party so gotta find a way to sneak over there, make a senti-monster to assist bubbler, and do this all without Ladybug or anyone else spotting them.

As I float over the rooftops of Paris, I pull my fan open in one hand and let the wind tug at my feathered jacket. The city glitters under the shimmering light of hundreds of bubbles drifting through the sky. Adults float helplessly inside them, their arms flailing like confused fish. It's honestly kinda funny if you don't think about how wildly unsafe that is.

I land gracefully on a nearby rooftop, crouched low as I peer toward the Agreste mansion. There’s already music thumping through the walls, some top 40 nonsense Nino probably insisted on. The courtyard is already decorated with classmates standing around nervously, Senti-Marilla doing a good job in acting.

“Alright, Vainquill,” I mutter to myself, slipping behind one of the chimneys and flicking my fan open. “Time to make a monster.”

I hum waiting, I'll wait for the perfect Moment.

The crowd shouts happy birthday to a confused Adrien as he steps outside his front door.

"Hey hey Hey birthday boy! Guess what? Daddy's gone so while the cat's away the mice will play!" Bubbler laughs standing on a well, bubble.

"Nino?!?" Adrien questioned confused

"The Bubbler's brought all your friends for one single sole purpose, to CE- LE- BRATE!" He said pumping one arm into the air like a cheer.

I grin grabbing a feather from my fan firmly and turning it blue, infusing it with the emotion of Celebration.

"Come on my little Sentimonster, help bubbler with his celebration." I blow in the feather as it lands on the DJ booth that Bubbler was about to jump to.

"Whatza- WHAT?" Bubbler says confused seeing the DJ booth turn pitch black for a moment.

The Booth turns normal as black spheres swirl behind it. "Come on and DANCE! DANCE!"

The Sentimonster slams its gloved hands on the disks as music begins, the Senti-monster looked like a robot but instead of legs was a platform that was hovering with pink light under it, it had thin black cylinders connecting to black sphere joints for a torso and arms.

The Sentimonster also had gloved hands and its head was a square, grey speaker box with a black speaker, a yellow ring moved across the speaker as an eye. It also was wearing Headphones.

"Hello Bubbler and guests! I'm DJ Prior! Whos ready to DANCE! DANCE!" He began bopping to the beat as music played.

"HEY! This party is being ran by ME! Im supposed to be the DJ!" Bubbler floated down glaring at DJ Prior who just continued playing music.

DJ Prior bobbed its square speaker head with a calm mechanical precision. “I am the beat. You bring bubbles, I bring rhythm. Without me, you’re just- pshhh -background noise.”

Bubbler floated closer, arms crossed, bubbles shimmering anxiously around him. “Yeah? Well without me, you’re just a fancy speaker nobody asked for!”

The Senti-monster turned up the bass, the yellow ring-eye pulsing to the rhythm. “Bass drop coming. You ready to lose the crowd?”

Bubbler spluttered, then laughed nervously. “Fine, fine! You play the tunes, I’ll hype the crowd!”

He drifted back up, puffing bubbles and doing an awkward half-dance. “Alright everyone! Let’s hit the dance floor! Let’s get those feet moving, yeah!”

The students shuffled together hesitantly, forced smiles pasted on their faces. Juleka twirled a strand of her purple hair, glancing sideways. Rose tapped her foot in rhythm but kept her arms crossed like a defensive shield. Chloe stalked with a haughty expression that screamed ‘this is beneath me,’ while Sabrina awkwardly tried to smile and not look like she was ready to bolt.

Even the usually hyper Alya was biting her lip, glancing nervously at the bubbles floating overhead.

DJ Prior ramped up the beats, lights flashing from its speaker-box head as it danced robotically on its hover platform.

I grin seeing Senti-Marilla doing the leprechaun dance with Alix genuinely laughing at the stupid dance and joining in.

It’s weirdly comforting, seeing her let loose like that, even if everyone else looks like they’d rather be anywhere else.

Bubbler, clearly trying to keep the energy alive, floats around spitting bubbles like confetti, but the smiles are thin, the laughs hollow. The pressure of being trapped in this bubble-fest isn’t lost on anyone.

I tuck my fan back into my jacket and fold my arms, blending into the shadows just as Ladybug’s silhouette slips closer to the mansion’s edge, eyes sharp and calculating.

I hear a beep as I look seeing the purple buttons vanish off the Peacock Miraculous as I abruptly De-transform.

"Okay, Five minute timer, forgot on that." I hand Duusu some almonds to eat as I just sit on a distant Rooftop, I think im far enough I wont get spotted.

Everyone continues awkwardly dancing with Adrien doing so aswell.

"Come on, hear that BEAT! BEAT BEAT!" Dj Prior continued playing music, bopping to his own music.

"Um can I uh- request a slow dance?" Sabrina said awkwardly to the robot.

"Isnt it a bit early for a slow dance? Its not upbeat! Its Slow! Slow! Slow!" Dj Prior said while quieting down the music a bit so he could actually hear.

"UGH!" Chloe shoved Sabrina out of the way, "This is Adrien's party, so shouldn't he experience his first slow dance?"

Dj Prior looked up to Bubbler to see what he thought.

Bubbler floated closer to DJ Prior, a bubble popping under his chin as he scratched his head. “Uh… sure? I guess? This is Adrien’s party after all. Slow dance it is!” He gave a dramatic sigh, as if someone just handed him a salad instead of his usual bubblegum.

DJ Prior switched the music as Bubbler stood up.

"Alright Party People! Join up and dont be Alone!" He said loudly with a grin.

Senti-Marilla awkwardly slow danced With Alix as Chloe ran over to Adrien to Slow dance with him.

Alya awkwardly slow dances with Kim, Rose with Juleka (Aw thats sweet) and Mylene with Ivan.

Yada Yada, I turn from my rooftop spotting a quick pink light, Ladybug now held a Record while DJ Prior starts looking through the box of Records Bubbler brought.

I hum watching her change the music as I sit eating, "This is soooo boring, and Chat Noir and Ladybug wont show up for a few more minutes to actually fight!"

I groan as Ladybug hops away to recharge as her timer almost detransforms her.

"What makes you so sure?" Duusu asked while eating more almonds.

"Eh, just a hunch." I say while shrugging.

I see Marinette talking to Alya and they head into the mansion while Bubbler goes over to Ivan laying in the corner.

"Why aren't you having fun." Bubbler snarled.

"None of your buisness," Ivan shot back like an idiot as Bubbler grabbed his bubble wand.

"Then I'll make it my buisness."

He suddenly trapped Ivan in a bubble sending him up to the other people stuck in the sky.

I hum waiting as suddenly Adrien is dragged onto stage, "Uh Hey Paris!" He says awkwardly.

There groans and whispers among the crowd which shut up into cheers when Bubbler threateningly grabs his bubble wand again.

Adrien suddenly looks up, "Ladybug?" He says into the mic making everyone else look up and cheer at the hero.

I grin, "Showtime~ Lets enjoy the show."

"HA!" Ladybug threw her yo-yo hitting the plugs turning the speakers and DJ station off.

"Are you.... KIDDING ME! KIDDING ME! KIDDING ME!" Dj Prior screams annoyed, the yellow circle on his speaker head turned red and shook violently as he slammed his fists on the DJ station. "HOW DARE YOU TURN OFF MY MUSIC!"

"Sorry you two but Party's over." Ladybug said pulling her yo-yo back, "You made all the Adults Disappear." She glared at bubbler.

"Why you gotta be like that?" He whined annoyed. 

"Your imprisoning people for not having fun after kidnapping them? Your trash." Ladybug snarled.

"Your ruining my PARTY!" Bubbler swung his staff firing red bubbles which Ladybug broke with her Yo-yo.

"My music... MY MUSIC! MY MUSIC! MY MUSIC!" Dj Prior shook violently before the robot slammed his hands onto the DJ station and the music began playing again despite not being plugged in, his speaker head glowed before he fired red blasts of sound from his head at Ladybug who jumped out of the way.

Ladybug twisted mid-air, the blast of sound narrowly missing her heels as it shattered the air behind her with a deafening BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

“Wow, his bass drops hurt!” she muttered, flipping to a nearby lamppost and swinging her yo-yo again to snag a cluster of bubbles threatening to trap a few kids on the dance floor.

From the rooftop, I chomp on another chip with a crunchy crunch. “Mmm. Spicy. Want one?” I offer Duusu, who takes a handful of almonds instead.

“Do you think she’ll win?” Duusu asks between chews.

I shrug. “I think she’ll barely win and Adrien will do nothing useful. But maybe I’ll be surprised. Maybe he’ll grow a brain cell.”

Down below, DJ Prior was going nuts. “LOUDER! LOUDER! LOUDER!” he bellowed as his arms swung in perfect tempo, generating shockwaves with every swing. Cars rattled, windows cracked, the mansion’s roof visibly shivered.

Ladybug ducked behind a fountain, panting. “Okay. DJ robot with a sound cannon. That’s new.”

Bubbler zipped up beside DJ Prior, now riding a floating red bubble, like some bargain bin Green Goblin. “You’re not invited anymore, Ladybug! And guess what? NO RE-ENTRY!”

He raised his wand and unleashed a storm of microbubbles, each glowing an ominous red. Ladybug flicked her yo-yo to try and disperse them.

Bubbler lunged with Ladybug doing the same as they smacked each other, Ladybug landing in front of the DJ station and Bubbler falling onto the food table.

"TAKE THIS! THIS! THIS!" DJ Prior slammed on the DJ station firing a sound wave that would've slashed into Ladybug's back if Chat Noir didnt jump down and block it with his baton.

"Looks like I arrived just in time," He said with a grin with Ladybug rolling her eyes.

I hum, I didnt notice Adrien sneak off to transform, neat.

"Theres two Akumas, I dont know where the sound guy came from-" Ladybug began only for chat noir to interrupt.

"I dont think the robot is an Akuma, I saw the DJ station turn black then it just appeared. I dont know what it is but it might be something different." Chat Noir suggested as DJ Prior was screaching about his music being interrupted again.

"Then that just means there IS a second Akuma somewhere who summoned it!" Ladybug said swinging her Yo-Yo to smack a bubble sent at her by Bubbler.

I roll my eyes, its so cute to see them panic about dealing with two akumas in the future not knowing DJ is a sentimonster, I mean well- They dont know what Sentimonsters are since I havent made my grand debut as Vainquill yet.

Duusu popped another almond in her mouth, kicking her legs back lazily on the rooftop ledge. “You sure you don’t want to drop down there and show off a little, my peacock?” he asked, voice muffled by his snack.

I snorted, licking salt off my fingers. “Nope. Too early. Let the drama stew. Besides-” I gestured with my chip bag at the chaos below “-they're still thinking in ‘one villain at a time’ logic. I want to see how long it takes before it finally clicks.”

Down below, DJ Prior let out a glitchy wail as Chat Noir vaulted onto the stage. His tail whipped behind him as he crouched, baton spinning defensively.

“Back up your beats, Prior,” he said, raising the baton like a mic. “Because this show’s about to be canceled.”

“I’LL MUTE YOU! MUTE YOU! MUTE YOU!” DJ Prior’s chest lights blinked bright red as he slammed both fists down, sending a shockwave of crimson sound that rattled the pavement. Cars shook. A nearby tree split clean in half, wood vibrating violently before exploding in splinters.

Ladybug barely flipped aside, hair whipping behind her, before flicking her Yo-Yo at the DJ’s speaker-head again.

“Chat! Cover Bubbler, I’ll deal with Speakerface!”

Chat Noir didn’t hesitate, he flipped forward, landing hard in front of Bubbler who was dusting frosting off his jacket with a scowl. “I just wanted to party,” Bubbler grumbled.

Chat Noir blocked another bubble blast. “You bubbled the entire adult population and started an underage rave with a screaming robot. This is not a party.”

Meanwhile, DJ Prior turned both of his arms into massive speaker cones. “NO INTERRUPTIONS! INTERRUPTIONS! INTERRUPTIONS!” he bellowed, sending another wave of distorting sound toward Ladybug.

Dj Prior reeled his hands back before two more sprout out, while Bubbler pulled his wand over his shoulder grabbing it with both hands.

"TAKE THIS!"

"MUTE! MUTE MUTE!"

Both villains sent a barrage of projectiles at Ladybug and Chat Noir who started getting pushed into each other as they swung there Yo-yo and Baton to block the Projectiles.

A barrage of red bubbles from Bubbler and a barrage of sound blasts from DJ Prior.

Ladybug grit her teeth as the red-glowing bubbles popped like grenades against her Yo-Yo, heat licking her arms every time one got too close. “There’s too many!” she yelled, back-to-back with Chat Noir as soundwaves slammed into the pavement beside them, cracking the asphalt.

“I’m starting to really hate parties,” Chat growled, swinging his baton like a bat and knocking three bubbles out of the air, only for a pulse of noise from DJ Prior to throw him off balance. He stumbled, shoulder smacking against Ladybug’s. “Sorry! Sorry!”

She barely had time to glare before another barrage launched from opposite sides: DJ Prior’s arms now slamming hard on the DJ Station over and over, him screaming with a glitchy rage; Bubbler laughing as he spun, firing red bubbles in spiraling arcs.

“Y’know,” Chat shouted, “usually one guy monologuing is bad enough!”

“I don’t need monologues, I need a miracle!” Ladybug shouted, spinning her Yo-Yo in a wide arc, deflecting three sound blasts just before they hit. The heat, the pressure, the ringing in her ears, it was too much.

And then-

BOOM.

All at once, the sound stopped. So did the bubbles.

There was a strange, viscous silence.

Ladybug blinked, sweat sticking to her brow. “What?”

Around them, a storm of bubbles hovered in place, then twisted inward. Red became green, sound became silence. The bubbles, dozens of them, whirled into formation like bees assembling a hive. Ladybug grabbed Chat Noir’s arm and tried to move, but the space around them hardened.

FWUMP.

They were lifted up trapped together in a big green bubble.

“Trapped?” Chat Noir pressed a hand against the inside wall. The bubble was dense, slick, but firm. “I thought bubbles were supposed to be fragile.”

Outside, Bubbler stood with a smirk, his wand twirling lazily. “That’s the problem with you two, always thinking small.”

DJ Prior despite being a robot panted and breathed heavy like someone who was done being pissed as his two extra arms retracted back into his back as his eye ring turned back yellow. "Now with them trapped... we can... continue the music..."

"Give me your Miraculous before you run out of air." Bubbler says menacingly as a purple butterfly like- visor outline? Whatever its called, appears in front of his face making it clear hawkmoth was talking to him.

"Dream on," Ladybug snarled from the bubble.

"Your just a party pooper like an adult," He said rolling his eyes.

"Kids need Adults! What about babies or toddlers who dont know how to live without them!" Ladybug shot back as Bubbler openned his mouth and stared, contemplating and looking uncertain.

I eat another chip seeing the visor Re-appear for Hawkmoth to say something to probably prevent Bubbler from de-akumatizing.

"WHO CARES! Other kids can raise younger kids! Now to the skies you go! Freedom for all kids!" He swung his staff as Ladybug and Chat Noir were sent upwards.

"Finally, Finally, FINALLY! Now we can return to our MUSIC!" DJ Prior said floating over to plug in the speakers again and began jamming.

I look into the air seeing the bubble get cataclysm'd and the two safely fall onto the street.

Bubbler turned and snarled at the crowd who cowered behind the fence on the stairs, "Stop Hiding! Come on out and par-"

"Sorry to burst your bubble!" Ladybug said confidentally as the two heroes got back onto the Mansion's gates.

"Ladybug!" Alya pointed out as the students started cheering.

Dj Prior and Bubbler turned in unison at the two snarling, DJ Prior rushing to his stand and slamming his hands on the records.

"Seems Nobody wants to party anymore with you two." Ladybug said with a grin.

"WHATS WRONG WITH YOU ALL! YOUR ALL! JUST! HATERS!" Bubbler turned yelling at the students as he swung his staff trapping them all in bubbles.

"NO!" Ladybug shouted horrified.

"Outer space is the next stop for jerks and there NEVER COMING BACK!" Bubbler begins to jump off.

DJ Prior does a beat on the station as the stage under begins cracking before the entire station starts lifting with some kind of pink jet booster under the station as Prior begins flying off after Bubbler.

Ladybug and Chat noir give chase as I stand up, "Duusu, Spread my Plumes."

I transform into Vainquill to follow from a distance to keep watching this entertaining show.

Bubbler sprinted with powerful, long strides, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with a manic grin plastered across his face. The Eiffel Tower loomed ahead, its iron lattice gleaming beneath the fading daylight. This was his grand finale, his ultimate stage.

Behind him, DJ Prior’s hovering DJ booth roared to life, the pink jet boosters flaring as the robot spun to keep up. His speaker-box head glowed ominously, arms poised like twin cannons.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were hot on their heels, leaping and vaulting with practiced agility. Ladybug’s yo-yo was taut in her hand, eyes sharp and scanning for any opening. Chat Noir twirled his baton, ready to block or strike.

Farther back, cloaked in the indigo feathers of my Vainquill transformation, I floated silently, watching the chaos unfold like the director of this wild show.

Suddenly, DJ Prior wheeled his platform mid-flight, spinning on the glowing pink boosters to face the two heroes chasing Bubbler.

“TIME TO TURN UP THE VOLUME! VOLUME! VOLUME!” DJ Prior boomed, fingers dancing over controls.

They start slamming onto the DJ Booth over and over firing a barrage of red sound blasts towards them.

“Incoming!” Chat Noir shouted, vaulting sideways as the sound wave tore past, smashing into the stone of a nearby building with a shower of debris.

Ladybug barely had time to duck under another blast before it ricocheted toward them, the force pushing hard enough to stagger both heroes.

"The Akuma or whatever created DJ Prior is in his booth right? Then we need to break it quick!" Ladybug shouted as Bubbler started climbing the eifle tower as DJ Prior flew past towards the top, Bubbler turned around firing bubbles.

Ladybug and Chat Noir dodged to continue climbing up.

I stop a good distance away to just watch.

They all get to the platform on top of the eifle tower as Chat noir's ring beeps. "IM GOING TO CHANGE BACK SOON! HURRY!" He shouts at Ladybug.

"LUCKY CHARM!" She swung her hand up as the yo-yo flew up and in a pink flash as out came... A blow-up rubber float?

Ladybug blinked, then smirked. “Okay… how do I use a giant flamingo float to stop Bubbler and DJ Prior?”

She eyed Bubbler, who was busy trying to steady himself with his wand, bubbles swirling at his fingertips, and DJ Prior hovering nearby, the DJ station still glowing ominously.

Ladybug looked around and formed a plan.

With a burst of determination, Ladybug grabbed the flamingo float’s neck and charged at Bubbler.

“Hey! What the-?” Bubbler shouted, startled, as Ladybug tackled him with the oversized float, knocking him off balance.

“Not so fast!” she said, twisting the float’s long neck around Bubbler’s arms, trapping him like a giant, inflatable lasso.

Bubbler struggled, bubbles popping around him, but Ladybug held tight, yanking the wand from his grip.

“Got it!” she yelled, snatching the wand.

At the same moment, Chat Noir leapt toward DJ Prior, baton spinning to distract the sound robot.

"Over here!" Chat noir shouted dodging more sound blasts.

"DIE! DIE! DIE! YOUR SO ANNOYING! ANNOYING ANNOYING!" Dj Prior had taken out his extra arms again spamming sound blasts.

Ladybug swung Bubbler's baton firing a bubble that suddenly trapped DJ Prior.

"CHAT NOIR! NOW!"

Chat Noir jumped up and slammed his staff breaking the DJ Booth.

Ladybug at the same time snapped the bubble wand.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Dj Prior screamed as he disintegrated, floating out of the DJ booth was a single white feather.

Meanwhile the Akuma flew out of the wand as Ladybug swung her yo-yo.

"No more evil doing for you little akuma!" She said as she captured it.

"TIME TO DE-EVILIZE!" She did her little dance thingy majig and released the white butterfly from her yo-yo.

"Miraculous... LADYBUG!" She threw the floaty into the air as the butterflies spread across the city gently putting the adults back down and fixing all the damage.

I hum running away as I see Bubbler turn back into a very confused Nino.

I head home to deal with Senti-Marilla.

(Meanwhile with Ladybug & Chat Noir, Third Person POV)

"Hey, is this what created that DJ?" Chat Noir picked up the white feather in the now repaired DJ Station that uh- wasnt sent back to the mansion.

Ladybug stepped closer, frowning at the white feather in Chat Noir’s hand. It shimmered faintly with a silvery iridescence, much different from the usual black akuma butterflies they’d seen time and time again.

“That’s… not from an akuma,” she said slowly, taking it from him.

Ladybug hummed, "Maybe... theres another Miraculous user working for Hawkmoth?"

Chat frowned, his tail twitching. “Wait, wait. So you’re saying there’s another kind of magic loose in Paris?” He gave a shaky laugh. “You know, I just started sleeping again. This is going to ruin that streak.”

“I’m serious, Chat.” She tucked the feather away into her yo-yo compartment for later analysis. “Someone made this… this DJ Prior creature. And they used a power we’ve never seen before.”

“You think it’s connected to Hawkmoth?” he asked, tone low and serious now.

“Maybe,” she admitted. “Or maybe someone else is out there… working with him. Or worse, someone acting on their own.”

The thought hung in the air, unsettling them both. They’d always known about the butterfly. That was the one thing they could count on. One enemy. One source. Now?

Chat Noir gestured around the now-peaceful Eiffel Tower. “Guess we’ve got a new mystery on our paws.”

Ladybug nodded slowly. “And we’re going to solve it. But for now, let’s keep this between us. We can’t risk letting anyone else know there's another power in play.”

Chat saluted with a smirk, but there was an undercurrent of tension behind his usual humor. “Lips sealed, Bugaboo. But if another DJ tries to drop the beat on my skull again, I’m taking an early vacation.”

Ladybug managed a chuckle, even if it didn’t reach her eyes.

"So..." I begin awkwardly staring at Senti-Marilla, Senti-Me? This is weird.

Duusu is eating almonds, exhausted from all the transformations today.

"I uh- kinda got to break your amok since uh... Dont want another me running around?" I say holding the pencil and feeling weird about this.

I mean breaking an Amok is killing them- So I gotta kill another me...

...jesus christ this does not help my mental health.

Senti-Marilla looked at me, wide-eyed, fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie, clearly shaken but eerily calm. Like she’d already accepted whatever I was about to do. She didn’t look evil. Just confused. Scared. Like I was.

I sat on the edge of my bed, pencil in hand. The Amok. Her anchor. My anchor? Our anchor?

She tilted her head slightly, trying to match my expression. “You’re gonna do it, right?” she asked quietly, and it wasn’t a challenge. It was... permission.

That didn’t make it easier.

Duusu crunched another almond, perched lazily on my bookshelf, feathers ruffled and eyes drooping. “I did warn you,” she said, voice muffled slightly by a cheekful of nut. “The Peacock Miraculous is emotionally volatile and generally upsetting. Almond?”

I ignored her.

Senti-Marilla? sat across from me like a weird mirror. She had my hair, my posture, even my old worn socks. But her eyes had this duller hue, like she’d been painted in with slightly faded colors. Something about her looked less... lived in.

And yet, she smiled gently.

“You don’t have to feel bad,” she said softly. “I don’t think I was ever meant to last anyway.”

“Jesus,” I muttered, setting the pencil down like it might explode. “Don’t say it like that.”

“But it’s true, right?” she whispered, voice cracking. "You made me to take your place and be kidnapped as bubbler..."

She took a deep breath, "Break it... we... we both cant exist, and no 'oh we can think of something else.' No sad story bullshit!" She said in a tone that sounded just like something I would say.

The pencil felt heavier than it should’ve. Heavier than lead, heavier than guilt, heavier than me. I stared at it like it might flinch.

“You really sound like me,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

Senti-Marilla grinned, tired but sincere. “I am you, just with fewer trauma responses and slightly worse balance.”

Duusu snorted from the bookshelf. “You’re both dramatic disasters. Twinsies.”

We both shot her a look.

I turned back to the pencil. The Amok. It didn’t glow, didn’t hum with any kind of cosmic energy. It just was. Sitting there. Waiting. It could’ve been any old pencil. But it wasn’t. It was her soul. My soul? A soul. Sentimonster logic made zero sense.

“I’m not doing it because I don’t care about you,” I said carefully, still not picking it up again. “I’m doing it because-”

“-You have to,” she finished. “I know. And if our roles were reversed, you’d want me to do it too.”

I looked up. Her eyes were wet, but her hands were steady. She meant it.

“God, this is messed up.”

“Yup.”

We sat in silence for a while. Just... sat. I think we both needed that. To just be, together, for a moment longer.

And then I reached out.

My hand hovered over the pencil. My thumb brushed its edge.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t beg. She just smiled, my smile, the one I wear when I’m about to do something awful and pretend I’m fine.

“I’m glad I got to be a person for a little while,” she said, quietly. “Even if it was just a little while.”

I nodded. “Me too.”

And then I snapped it in half.

I wont lie... I cried as I watched her disintegrate, the feather slowly falling out of the Amok.

...Nobody said being a villain would be easy.

Chapter Text

"You only one day to work on a fashion piece of your own design, in ten hours it'll be judged by none other then the great fashion designer, Gabriel Agreste." Damocles rambled as Miss Bustier changed the photo on the projector to Gabriel Agreste.

Ah yes, hats judged by Hawkmoth, fun. I roll my eyes seeing Nathaniel already drawing up ideas.

Duusu peacefully sleeps in one of my jacket pockets, she lets out quiet snores in her sleep just loud enough for me to hear but not for others to hear.

"As you know, Gabriel Agreste is father to our very own Adrien Agreste," Damocles gestures at adrien, "Who will model in the winning hat."

I glance at Marinette and even with her back to me since well- shes in the front row and im in the back, I can practically see the stars in her eyes.

"The theme this year is... DERBY HATS!" Damocles says as the photo changes.

Who the fuck has heard of a derby hat before this- I think only Mimes wear those.

Like- derby hats? Really? I barely have time to sleep or plan akuma attacks, and now I’m supposed to become an expert in 18th-century headwear fashion? Great. Maybe I’ll just staple a teacup to a top hat and call it avant-garde.

Nathaniel is already sketching some masterpiece with intricate folds and a rose motif. Of course he is. Marinette is probably mapping out structural blueprints in her head, mentally inventorying every button and ribbon she owns. And me?

I draw a sad little scribble of what looks more like a mushroom with a bowtie than anything remotely wearable. Excellent.

Damocles drones on, “You may use any materials you want, but the hat must be wearable, stable, and most importantly, fashionable.”

I glance down at my notebook, then over at the sleeping kwami in my pocket. “Duusu,” I whisper, poking the lump in my jacket. “You wouldn’t happen to have a degree in hat design, would you?”

She snores in response. Of course.

The class starts buzzing with energy, everyone already pairing off or rushing to the back of the room where a stack of fabric and materials has been set up. I stay seated a moment longer, staring at the blank page like it personally offended me.

A derby hat. Classy. Fancy. Decorative. Sophisticated.

I... am none of those things.

Im glad the bell rings, welp time to head home, try to look fancy, then head to the agreste mansion for my first day as a 'secretary'

I shudder in disgust, ugh, being professional, but I need a cover story so it fits.

Most people stay in school to plan in groups about there derby hats, my plan? Make none since this doesnt effect my grade unless I win so WHOooooooooooooooo cares.

I snuck into the bakery after seeing neither tom or Sabine was downstairs meaning they wouldnt hear the bakery bell, I rush to my room and grimace at the outfit I laid on my own bed.

After changing, I grimace at myself in the mirror. I spent the last of my allowance on this thing: black slacks that actually fit, a tucked-in navy blouse with little silver buttons, and a blazer that screams 'secretary' more than it screams 'Marilla.' No chains, no patches, no spiky bracelets. My usual armor? Stripped.

I look like I belong in a perfume ad. Or a law office. Or like someone who doesn't know what a sleep schedule is because they're too productive, not because they’re up until 3 a.m. stress-doodling evil butterflies in a notebook.

"Fuck it, Im Lazy, Duusu, Spread my Plumes."

I transform into Vainquill and grab the almond packet as I crawl out my window and start jumping across buildings to the Mansion, I fall into an alleyway and de-transform.

"Eh- oh is it Work day! Work sucks... Work is great!" Duusu flew around happily as I just pushed her into one of my pockets and gave her a handful of almonds.

I take in a deep breath and awkwardly walk to the gates and click the button, "Uh I'm here for my first day as a Secretary...? Or like Secretary in training-" I say awkwardly as the camera come out of the gate.

“…Come in,” came a cool, clipped voice. Definitely Nathalie. She always sounded like she was three seconds from deleting someone from existence with a single keyboard stroke.

The gate groaned open, and I walked through with the grace of a sock sliding across hardwood. The front garden of the Agreste estate was just as pretentious in person as it was from the rooftops: cold marble statues, trimmed hedges that looked sharp enough to bite, and a path so clean it made my sneakers feel illegal.

The door opened before I even knocked. Nathalie stood there in her usual dark suit, tablet in one hand, eyes skimming up and down my appearance like a scanner in a spy movie. I resisted the urge to apologize for existing.

“You’re Marilla,” she stated, not asked.

"Yeah uh- Marilla Dupain-Cheng? The peacock miraculous person- we met uh... three days ago."

Nathalie just nodded as I look up as Gabriel walks down the steps.

"So you actually came," Gabriel stated calmly.

"Of course boss! So since my cover story is being uh- Adrien's secretary I guess, what will I have to d-" I ramble only to get cut off.

"First, give me a report of your thoughts on Ladybug and Chat Noir, I saw you sent a Sentimonster to fight them instead of fighting them yourself, explain." Gabriel said coldly.

I pause, damn, straight to the point? "Simple, I was analyzing them and I want to catch them off guard so start with something surprising, I mean you saw DJ Prior was really effective at pressuring them alongside Bubbler."

"And yet, your 'dj prior' failed." Gabriel said sternly.

"Your 'Bubbler' also failed, but hey, you lose some, you win some." I say while shrugging.

Gabriel stared at me for a moment before he spoke.

“You will wait here until Adrien returns from school,” Gabriel began. “It’s important he sees you as part of the household. If he asks questions-”

“I’ll lie,” I cut in casually, leaning back slightly. “I’m good at that.”

His jaw twitched. Nathalie’s eyebrow did the same, just barely.

“This is not a game, Marilla.”

I tilted my head and offered a smile that definitely wasn’t comforting. “Wasn’t planning on playing. Just winning.”

He eyed me in silence, then walked down the steps and handed me a tablet like the one Nathalie always carried around.

“Here,” he said, tapping it. “This is your employment profile. Nathalie will go over your duties later, but for now, keep up the act. You’re Adrien’s part-time assistant and intern for the company. You’re here just so you have an excuse to come here and report to me.”

I opened the file and skimmed it. My face smiled back at me from a suspiciously professional ID photo I never took. It even had a little gold watermark and everything. Huh. Neat.

“And Ladybug and Chat Noir?” I asked, tapping my foot softly on the marble floor. “You still want them broken or just bent a little?”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “I want their Miraculouses. How you handle them is up to you, as long as you succeed.”

“Bold of you to assume I won’t get distracted,” I said lightly, leaning back into the couch again. “But sure. I’ll do my best.”

“See that you do,” he said sharply. “Adrien should be back shortly. Behave.”

He swept out of the room like a fashion-forward grim reaper, Nathalie following silently, her tablet already lighting up with some new schedule.

I exhaled once I was alone and slumped just a bit into the couch.

This was fine. Totally fine. Not terrifying at all. I was just sitting in the same house as the guy responsible for half the city’s collective trauma. You know. Casual.

I pulled Duusu halfway out of my blazer pocket and offered her another almond. She squeaked happily, nibbling like a smug little hamster.

“This is your fault,” I whispered.

Duusu smiled through a mouthful. “You look very official today!”

“Yeah. Like a haunted librarian.”

She giggled.

I let my head fall back against the couch, staring up at the intricate chandelier above. Any minute now, Adrien would walk in. Adrien Agreste. My new fake boss. My fake job. My very real secret identity.

I really needed to stop making decisions while sleep-deprived.

Nathalie looks at her tablet and gestures for me to stand up, "Adrien is home from school, come on we will greet him." She leads the way as I just awkwardly follow.

We walk in silence down the main hall, the clicking of Nathalie’s heels echoing like some kind of countdown. I half expect her to whip around and tell me to leave a nose print on the mirror for security clearance or something. The Agreste mansion feels like a fashion museum and a haunted house had a baby, everything's quiet, polished, and just a little too pristine to be comfortable.

We reach the front foyer just as the door opens.

Adrien steps in, still in his school uniform, backpack slung over one shoulder. "Im ho- Marilla?!?" She says startled seeing me.

“This is Marilla Dupain-Cheng,” Nathalie cuts in, nodding to me like I’m a display piece. “She’s your new secretary.”

Adrien blinks. “Secretary?”

“Secretary-in-training,” I blurt. “Kind of like… a secretary intern with questionable credentials and zero filing experience.”

Nathalie gives me a flat look. Adrien’s mouth opens, then closes. He glances between us like someone just handed him a pop quiz in a dream.

Adrien gave me a slow, skeptical blink. “Okay…?”

Nathalie didn’t offer any help, just folded her arms and raised an eyebrow like she was already judging my ‘professionalism.’

I shot a glance at Adrien, who seemed as confused as I was. “So, uh… what kind of stuff do you usually need help with?” I asked, hoping to sound less like a lost puppy.

Adrien shrugged and dropped his backpack by the door. “Mostly schoolwork. And… well, Nathalie handles my dad’s business stuff. I’m used to her being the secretary.”

I snorted quietly. “Oh, so you’ve had a secretary all this time?”

He nodded, sitting down at the dining table with his books and laptop. “Nathalie mostly takes care of emails and appointments. But I guess having someone actually here for me might be… different.”

I grabbed a chair and sat across from him, trying to ignore the fact my blazer felt stiff and out of place, like I was wearing a costume in someone else’s life.

He pulled out a math textbook and flipped it open. “I’m stuck on this problem,” he said, pointing at a tangled equation.

I squinted at the numbers. Math was definitely not my thing, I’m the queen of grammar and English, but numbers just made me want to scream. “Uh… okay, so… this looks like algebra. But honestly, I’m better with words than with numbers.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you’d be all numbers.”

I shrugged. “Nah, I’m the punk who pretends to be a businesswoman for a day.”

He laughed quietly, and suddenly the room felt less like a marble museum and more like a weird little corner where two people who don’t really belong tried to make sense of things.

“Here, I’ll help,” Adrien said, tapping the problem. “And maybe you can help me with the essay I have for English? I’m terrible at writing.”

“Deal.” I smiled. “Just don’t expect me to file your paperwork or answer any real emails yet. I’m still figuring out what a secretary even does besides look fancy.”

He grinned, pushing his math book toward me. “Looks like we’re both winging it.”

Nathalie peeked in from the doorway, arms crossed, but even she had a tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth that might have been a smile.

Adrien flipped the page of his math book, pencil twirling between his fingers with casual precision. He looked like he could do integrals in his sleep, probably had, knowing his curriculum. Meanwhile, I was staring at the algebra problem like it personally offended me.

“So,” I muttered, leaning in with a frown, “why are there letters in the math? Isn’t that the English department’s job?”

Adrien laughed, his smile easy and warm. “It’s variables. They stand in for numbers.”

“Okay, but why?” I jabbed the equation with my pen like it might flinch. “If the answer is going to be a number, why not just start with numbers? This is deception.”

“Welcome to high school,” he said with a snort. “It only gets worse.”

Duusu squeaked quietly in my pocket, and I casually shifted so Adrien wouldn’t notice the noise. She was munching another almond like this was the best reality show on Earth.

As Adrien worked through the equation step-by-step, like, talked through it, bless his patient heart, I watched his face more than the numbers. I already knew he was Chat Noir, but seeing him like this? Calm, soft-spoken, entirely unaware that he was sitting across from Vainquill, the villain he’d soon have to fight?

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Or crying. Or both.

“And then you divide both sides by three,” Adrien finished, circling the answer neatly. “Like that.”

I blinked. “You lost me at the squiggly equal sign with the extra hat.”

“That’s a radical sign.”

“Yeah, well, I’m radically bad at this.”

He bursts out laughing as I pause looking out the window, "Huh, a lot of pigeons."

He turns back as... hundreds of pigeons were fucking flying through the sky like a carpet into the distance.

"20$ Thats an Akuma." I say already knowing this must be the first time Mr. Pigeon gets akumatized, why the fuck is mr. pigeon the one who gets akumatized the most-

Adrien coughed and stood, already fumbling with his phone. “I- I have to uh… check on something. Upstairs. Alone. Immediately.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Just bolted.

“Cool,” I called after him, already sliding my stuff into my bag. “I should, uh, probably head home before Pidgezilla eats my face or whatever.”

I wasn’t even trying hard to lie. Adrien clearly had his own little superhero emergency, and I had mine. The moment I was out the door, I practically sprinted toward the alley nearby.

Duusu poked her head out the second I unzipped the pocket, blinking owlishly. “Oh! Is it showtime?”

"Yep, going to just watch from afar first but, Duusu, Spread my Plumes!"

Duusu flies into the brooch as I transform into Vainquill, I jump up and move a bit away as I stare at the agreste mansion.

After a while Chat Noir jumps out of Adrien's open window and jumps towards where the pigeons were flying.

I snicker taking out my phone and seeing Mr. Pigeon in his dumbass skintight outfit flapping his arms on the news, "Oooo dreary day for the parisians, ROO! ROO! Sorry to ruffle your feathers but paris now belongs to the pigeons!" He shook  his arms, "Flap Flap! ROO! ROO!"

What an actual dumbass of a villain.

I hum getting up and just kinda taking my time to head to Le grand paris hotel, they'll end up there in probably in uh- an hour ish?

So first chat- WAIT OH MY GOD I NEED TO DO THIS!

I turn and run to the park, specifically one of the buildings nearby as I wait with my phone out.

After a while Chat Noir and Ladybug come with Chat Noir handed a silly Police hat as he pretends to be an officer.

I wait for it and Chat noir whistling and bored starts break dancing

Perfect.

I click record and snicker recording Chat Noir just dancing while Ladybug looks annoyed.

I zoom in, catching every glorious second of Chat Noir busting out moves that could only be described as “unholy fusion of jazz hands and Dad-at-a-wedding energy.” He spun. He popped. He moonwalked into a pigeon. The pigeon squawked and flew off indignantly.

Ladybug stood there with her yo-yo half-drawn like she was debating if she should use it to fight evil or just lasso him offstage.

"Get down from the fountain, you're not a backup dancer," she muttered.

“Come on, m’lady, the power of rhythm compels them!” Chat Noir grinned, still spinning in a circle. “I read once that pigeons love interpretive dance.”

I quietly snorted from my perch above, almost dropping my phone from how hard I was shaking trying not to laugh. This was absolutely going into the blackmail folder.

Okay, back to my actual plan!

I pocket my phone and head back to the Le grand paris knowing they would soon go to the hotel, I'll just wait on a nearby rooftop.

I wait tapping my foot bored.

Like expected a ball of pigeons drags Chat noir onto the hotel and drops him with the pigeons sitting around.

"AGH- AChoo!" Chat noir sneezed as Ladybug landed.

"Wheres that bird brain, Mr. Pigeon?" Chat Noir asked looking around.

Ladybug narrowed her eyes looking around as I hid behind a chimney on a building across from them, "He's got to be here somewhere."

I hear the violent wing flapping and look back seeing a twister of pigeons around them.

"Got any bright ideas bug?" Chat Noir asked while trying to protect his eyes.

"Your the cat, dont you eat these things?" Ladybug shot back annoyed.

The pigeons flew out of the way as the comically large bird cage fell down on them.

"ROO! Chirpy day, im so ruthless." Mr. Pigeon said as if that made any sense as he stood on a platform of pigeons.

I glance and see the visor vanish meaning Mr. Pigeon was talking to hawkmoth.

"ROO! ROO! Your miraculous! Give them to ME! Or face the wrath of my feathered friends!"

I grin, show time.

I hum hopping onto the nearby rooftop, "Aw you mention feathered friends but dont mention me~" I put on a fake whine as the three look towards me confused.

"You know your pretty rude for an Akuma, how dare you." I say mockingly putting a hand to my head.

"Who are you!" Ladybug shouted as I grin wider beneath my helmet.

"I have the most flair of any bird in the air!" I do a dramatic twirl.

"I, am the Assistant of Hawkmoth, nice to meet you Ladybug and Chat Noir." I stop my spin to give a deep bow.

"You can call me Vainquill, and we have a lot in common." I grab the brooch and adjust it a bit making it more obvious.

"A miraculous!" Ladybug gasps.

I look towards Mr. Pigeon, "Well Done! I would say your the first akuma to capture the two but uh- Bubbler beat you too it."

Mr. Pigeon paused mid-squawk, visibly deflating. “Oh... roo… roo...” he muttered sadly, feathers puffing.

"Is it a two for one bird Special today or something?" Chat Noir muttered.

"Nah, Coincidence, Peacock and Pigeon, nothing alike." I say while shrugging.

Ladybug narrowed her eyes, gripping her yo-yo tighter. “You’re the Assistant of Hawkmoth? You don’t look like much of a threat.”

I gave a cheeky bow, the tails of my coat flaring dramatically. “Flair, darling. It’s all about flair.” My voice dripped with mock elegance as I let the brooch glint in the sunlight. “But don’t underestimate me just because I like to make an entrance.”

Chat Noir narrowed his eyes, tail flicking. “And what exactly do you want, ‘Vainquill’? You here to collect our Miraculouses or just crash the party?”

“Oh, both, of course!” I smiled wickedly, stepping forward, making sure to stay just out of pigeon pecking range. “Hawkmoth’s got his butterflies, you’ve got your cats and ladybugs, but peacocks like me? Well, I’m the wild card in this deck.”

Ladybug’s gaze flicked to Mr. Pigeon, who was sulking on his birdy platform, feathers drooping. “We've already beaten three akumas, Stoneheart, Stormy Weather and Bubbler, what makes you think you and Mr. Pigeon will do any better?"

"Simple, Numbers!" I hum, "The past fights have been a Two vs One in your first fight against Stoneheart, 2v10 with Stoneheart and his nine mini-stonehearts, Two vs One again against Stormy Weather and Two vs Two against Bubbler and my sentimonster, Dj Prior."

"Sentimonster? Wait you made DJ Prior?" Ladybug questioned with wide eyes.

I grin and twist my brooch a bit dramatically, "Well I know your abilities so might aswell reveal mine, I can make life itself, Sentimonsters. So at any time I can turn this from a two vs two into a two vs three, numbers arent in your favor~"

Ladybug’s grip on her yo-yo tightened, eyes sharp as daggers. “Sentimonsters? What exactly are those?”

I gave a sly smile, letting the sunlight catch the gleam of my brooch. “Life... but not quite alive. Think of them as little pieces of me, little wild cards I can throw into your game whenever things get boring.”

Chat Noir’s tail twitched suspiciously. “So you can summon your own sidekicks? That’s... new.”

“New and inconvenient,” Ladybug muttered, eyes flicking warily between me and Mr. Pigeon, who still looked utterly defeated and confused atop his platform.

I stepped closer, spreading my arms wide like a peacock showing off its tail feathers. “But don’t worry, I’m not just here to play party crasher. I’m here to shake things up, make sure the game changes.” My voice dropped to a purr. “And maybe, just maybe, to claim a little prize for myself.”

Ladybug narrowed her eyes. “Which prize would that be?”

I tilted my head, mock innocent. “Oh, you know... your Miraculous, of course.” I tapped my brooch and let out a low, amused chuckle. “But that’s not all. I’ve got other plans for Paris. Bigger plans.”

Chat Noir bristled, stepping protectively in front of Ladybug. “You’re not getting anything today, Vainquill.”

"CATACLYSM!" 

"Oh shit-" I immediately jump back beside Mr. Pigeon as Chat Noir disintegrates the Cage.

"Looks like instead of a pair of villains its a pair of chickens." Chat Noir mocks as the two heroes walk towards us.

"We're not flying away-" Mr. Pigeon began.

"-Just Killing two birds with one stone." I continue as Mr. Pigeon uses his flute and I jump back off the hotel with Mr. Pigeon doing the same as we land on two platforms of Pigeons.

"How do these things hold our weight-" I question as Mr. Pigeon crosses his arms and grins down at the heroes as were lifted dramatically into the air.

"AGH-" He abruptly turns the pigeon platforms into chairs making me almost fall as a swarm of pigeons is sent towards the heroes as we start flying off.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" He shouts as  the pigeons chase after the heroes who retreat into the hotel.

"So... Mr. Pigeon, whats your grand plan again?" I ask sitting awkwardly in the chair of flying pigeons, seriously, how do these guys hold us- Does Mr. Pigeon make them superhuman? Superpigeon?

Mr. Pigeon puffed up his chest, clearly thrilled to have a fellow bird-themed villain in the mix. “Well, Vainquill, it’s simple! I’m going to claim Paris for the pigeons! Make the skies theirs! No more humans bossing them around!” He flapped a wing dramatically, nearly toppling his pigeon-chair in the process.

I blinked, still trying to figure out how these feathery platforms were holding me up like some sort of magical bird taxi. “Superpigeons, huh? That’s quite the power-up.” I said dryly, settling awkwardly into the chair and trying not to look ridiculous.

Mr. Pigeon preened happily, completely missing the unspoken skepticism. “Exactly! My birds have strength, speed, and attitude! And together, we’ll outnumber Ladybug and Chat Noir any day!”

I rolled my eyes but said nothing, more amused than anything else. Honestly, this whole bird-themed villain squad was shaping up to be the weirdest gang I’d ever had the pleasure, or pain, to be a part of.

“Alright, bird-brain,” I muttered, “what’s the plan after you take over the skies? Because so far, it just looks like a lot of flapping and squawking.”

Mr. Pigeon grinned wide, eyes sparkling. “That’s just Act One. Act Two? We disrupt the city’s entire food supply by commandeering all the crumbs and snacks. Then, we negotiate from a position of absolute feathered power!”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Only you could come up with a plan that’s part cartoon villain, part birdwatcher’s nightmare.”

He laughed. “That’s the spirit, Vainquill! Together, we’ll be unstoppable.”

I smirked, crossing my arms. “Unstoppable, huh? Let’s just see if Ladybug and Chat Noir agree.”

"ROO! ROO!" He shouts as he blows his flute and I almost fall, AGAIN!

But the birds are now a fucking fighter plane? I look back seeing more planes made of pigeons.

He takes us to the train station and he climbs onto the second story Platform and looks towards the enterance as pigeons sit on all the railings, a cage stood in the middle of the room with all the police officers inside.

Jeez, kinda feel bad for the police-

I know Ladybug and Chat Noir will try and fail to sneak attack from a panel in the glass... uh... whatever its called at the roof.

So I just move out of eyesight and hum waiting.

"Hoedy ho! We're ready to greet them arent we?" He pets one of the pigeons, "There going to fall right into my trap and then you'll get your miraculous." He mutters to the pigeon as the butterfly visor appears over his face.

I hear a sneeze as a yo-yo shoots and almost hits the pigeon on Mr. Pigeon's arm who flies away.

Wow, what a fumble.

"So much for the element of Surprise." Ladybug and Chat Noir jump down and chase Mr. Pigeon who jumps off the hanging platform onto a pile of pigeons.

"ROO! ROO!"

I grin with the two having there back to me and I dash towards them.

"Heylo! Lets keep this two 1v1s." I grab Chat Noir's shoulders and flip over him, dragging him off the platform and...

SLAM!

Jesus christ- I think I heard a crack as I slam him hard against the floor.

WWE My ass, Im the true wrestling champion.

I kick him as he rolls groaning in pain.

"Suck it up, the miraculous transformation will just make it a bad bruise, at least I didnt break your back! I uh- think." I say while drawing my fan of knives and well, fan myself with it.

Chat Noir groaned beneath me, trying to catch his breath. “Oof… remind me not to underestimate bird-themed fashionistas.”

I twirled my fan lazily and grinned, letting the light catch the shimmer of the blades. “Oh, kitten, it’s not fashion, it’s flair.”

He coughed, rolled to the side, and pushed himself up with a wince. “Right, right. Flair and fan blades. Very chic. Can I interest you in a scratching post instead?”

“Only if it comes with your Miraculous attached,” I replied sweetly, then lunged.

He blocked with his baton, the clash ringing out like a bell. We circled each other like dancers with knives, metaphorical and literal.

"Unlucky black kitten," I taunted. "Did your bad luck make you forget how to fight?"

“Oh no,” he grinned despite the bruise forming on his cheek. “I just like to lose a little so it’s more dramatic when I win.”

I jump back and unclick three knives from the fan as I throw them at Chat Noir who stretches his staff some to block them.

I close and open the fan and it was suddenly re-stocked in knives as I start rapidly unclicking knives and chucking them, when Im low, I just close and re-open.

Chat Noirs starts spinning his staff to block the throwing knife barrage.

I glance at Mr. Pigeon whos currently fighting Ladybug with fucking pigeon gauntlets, like a sphere of pigeons on each hand. Jesus akumas are weird-

"Come on, you can do better then that." I tease Chat Noir as I stop my barrage and reach into my fan.

"How about a fun demonstration?"

I grip the white feather that I pull out turning it blue as Chat Noir stares on confused.

"Come on out," I toss the feather up then take out a simple pencil and the feather falls into it as I turn it into amok.

"CHAINLING!"

On my back forms a cat sized creature made of iron, it has a large sphere head with cartoon white teeth like a chain chomp from mario.

"Bite, Bite... I want to eat... CAT!"

Chains stretch out from Chainling at Chat Noir who jumps out of the way.

"Hunger is a strong emotion, so a strong Sentimonster." I say as I dash at Chat Noir as I snap the knife fan into two as I start trying to swipe and slash at him while Chainling makes chains to swing and try to slam into Chat Noir.

"UH- LADY! A LITTLE HELP HERE!" He shouts over at Ladybug.

“I’m being double-teamed!” Chat Noir shouted, leaping over a chain that embedded itself into the concrete. “She’s got a Sentimonster!”

Ladybug’s eyes widened as she dodged a flying pigeon. “That’s not a thing!”

“It is now!” he shouted back.

I grinned as I lunged, swinging the two halves of my fan like twin daggers, slashing at Chat Noir while Chainling surged forward, its massive jaw snapping shut just inches from his ankle.

“You’re slow today, kitty,” I taunted, ducking under a swing of his baton. “Out of practice?”

“I’d say I’m more… creatively pacing myself,” he replied between dodges, parrying one fan half with his staff and ducking a chain that whizzed past his ear. “Also very distracted by the angry metal gremlin trying to eat me.”

Chainling snarled. “I AM NOT A GREMLIN. I AM HUNGRY.”

I let out a laugh. “Don’t worry, Chainling, you’ll get your snack soon.”

Chat Noir backflipped, landing on one of the platform’s beams, panting as he held his baton in front of him.

“You know,” he called down, “we usually get some kind of warning before a villain shows up with a creature that wants to eat cats."

"COME HERE KITTY!" Chainling stands under the platform scratching at it doing nothing instead of well, throwing a chain up to grab him. I uh- didnt exactly make him to be smart.

"LUCKY CHARM!"

"Fuck-" I turn seeing the pink light as Ladybug gets...

…a can of tuna.

Seriously?

Even Chat Noir peeks down from the platform and blinks. “…Is that tuna?”

Ladybug squints at it like it personally insulted her ancestors. “I... okay. Sure. I can work with this.”

I raise a brow, resting one blade of the fan against my shoulder. “Gonna feed your partner his last meal before I feed him to my Sentimonster? That’s dark, Bug.”

“Maybe I’ll feed you to it,” she snaps back, holding the can aloft like it’s holy. “Or maybe I’ll just use it to bait your oversized can opener.”

"Wait what-"

I blink processing what Ladybug said as she openned the can.

"Hey Chainling! Over here!"

Chainling turned sniffing the air, "Food?"

"CHAINLING NO!" I shout forgetting I could just order him with my Amok as Chainling lunged mouth wide open.

Ladybug ducked throwing the yo-yo back which bounced off the floor and through the necklace holding Mr. Pigeon's bird flute thingy.

Chainling chomped down on the flute flying past Ladybug, shattering the flute.

"Chainling! ATTACK HER!" The blue markings appear around his face as I order him with the amok.

Chainling turns and makes several chains that stretch towards Ladybug who smiles- I may have fucked up.

She jumps into the air and uses her Yo-Yo to swing across the roof and slides beside a vending machine pulling a coin from under it.

"ATTA- ACK!" I forgot about Chat Noir who drop kicks me making me roll dropping half my knives as I snarl closing my main fan causing the knives to return as I re-open it and start throwing knives at Chat Noir.

Meanwhile Chainling starts running at Ladybug again, "EAT! EAT BUG! I WANT TO EAT YOU!"

"EAT THIS!" Ladybug turns throwing something which Chainling bites into, a can of soda.

The can explodes startling Chainling who gets stunned as Ladybug grabs one of his chains and begins swinging him.

"CHAT NOIR! BATTER UP!"

She chucked Chainling as Chat Noir turned swinging his staff and sending it at me.

"OOF!" Chainling bonks me on the head as I drop the pencil and stumble back against the wall.

Somehow the akuma from earlier hasnt flown off yet as Ladybug swung her yo-yo while Chat Noir stomped on the amok, Chainling disintegrating.

"No more evil doing for you little akuma, time to DE-EVILIZE!" She swung her Yo-yo and spun before letting the normal butterfly go.

Xavier Ramier looks around confused as he's no longer Mr. Pigeon, "Wait where am I? Wasn't I at the park."

"Shit-" I immediately began to run as Chat Noir gave chase.

"MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!"

I sprinted into the train station, fan clutched tightly in my hand, my boots hammering the concrete. The fourth beep of my brooch sounded off with a BEEP BEEP BEEP, one of the five purple dots vanishing like the last flicker of a dying star.

Four minutes.

“YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY THAT EASY!” Chat Noir’s voice echoed behind me like a damn horror movie, complete with the sound of his baton extending as he vaulted after me.

“God, you’re like a cat with a laser pointer, go away!” I snarled over my shoulder, vaulting over the ticket barrier and nearly tripping on the other side. I caught myself mid-stumble and launched toward the stairs to the metro platform, weaving through confused commuters like some pissed-off anime character on a timer.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEeP!

Three minutes.

I took the stairs two at a time, ducked into a food stall, and sent a knife flying over my shoulder without looking. It clanged harmlessly off Chat’s baton as he deflected it mid-leap like the showoff he is.

“Nice try!” he grinned, pursuing me like this was just a game.

“I hope someone purrs on your grave, you smug bastard,” I hissed, kicking over a trash can behind me. Someone shrieked as I barreled past.

Down on the platform, a train was arriving, miraculously on time, because of course fate wants me to suffer. I aimed for the far end, already calculating the jump onto the back car. It’s gonna be a bitch, but if I’m fast-

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Two minutes.

“I can hear your brooch beeping, Vainquill!” Chat taunted, not even winded, the prick. “Running out of time!”

“You know what else is running out of time? My patience!” I roared, throwing another blade behind me. He dodged that one too, though it clipped a poster of Jagged Stone and sliced his sunglasses in half. Not important. Kind of funny, though.

The train doors hissed open.

I skidded across the platform, turned sharply, and vaulted into the last car just as the doors began to close. I landed like a possessed ballerina with murder in her eyes, slamming into a seat back and gripping the pole like my life depended on it, because it kinda did.

Chat Noir tried to follow, but the doors clamped shut in his smug face.

I sigh heavily in the empty train car.

He slammed into them and glared at me as the train pulled away, pressing one gloved hand to the glass.

I smirked. Then flipped him off.

He frowned, then smiled a little. “See you in four minutes.”

“…Shit.”

Okay, One minute left before I de-transform, the train's next stop is in four minutes, why the fuck is this train so fast- or no, better question, why are stations so close together?

I know damn well chat noir will be there before the train so I de-transform.

"Alright, Duusu, hide." I push Duusu into one of my jacket pockets and feel annoyed im still in the formal secretary outfit.

I open the back of the train slowly and do something very stupid, I jump out of a moving train.

I immediately regretted my life choices.

The wind ripped past my ears, the world a smear of motion-blurred graffiti and gravel. My heels hit the side railing lining the tracks and slid, badly. I spun, slammed into a signal box, ricocheted off it with a grunt, and collapsed in the dirt behind a concrete support beam, coughing dust.

"Okay…" I wheezed, dragging myself up by the edge of the beam. "Still alive. Mostly."

Duusu peeked his tiny bird head out of my pocket, wide-eyed. “That was incredibly reckless and entirely ungraceful.”

“Yeah, well, we can't all be opera birds.”

I peeked around the pillar, squinting down the track. No sign of Chat yet. Good. That wouldn’t last.

Quick check of the damage: one scraped palm, one slightly bloody knee, and, yep, my spine was mad at me. But nothing broken. I started limping away, brushing off dirt from my fancy blouse and doing my best to look like just another angry office lady who took a bad shortcut through the trainyard.

Chat Noir will be at the other station waiting for the train, well sucks to suck for that dumb bitch! Im heading home through the PREVIOUS train station.

I limped my way toward the previous station, wincing with every step like I’d just gone twelve rounds with a particularly aggressive pigeon. The secretary outfit was doing zero favors, heels digging into my feet, the blazer a little too tight after the sprint, and my blouse screaming 'I’m totally in control' while my knee screamed 'You’re not.'

Duusu peeked out of my pocket, blinking owlishly. “More almonds?” I offered, shaking the nearly empty bag.

She chirped happily, stuffing one into her beak. “Much better than the wind tunnel experience, thank you.”

I let out a shaky breath and glanced at the bleeding scrape on my knee. Great. I could add “train yard tumble” to the list of “things to not explain if asked.” Probably.

At least nobody was here at this station, so no awkward questions about why I looked like I’d lost a fight with a lawn mower.

As I shuffled toward the exit, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glossy metal of a nearby bench, disheveled hair, pale cheeks, and one slightly busted knee exposed thanks to a rip in my slacks.

Looking like this, I was definitely not the 'secretary in training' Gabriel was expecting. More like 'secretary in training to get arrested for public disturbance.'

I paused, carefully leaning on a rail to steady myself and slid my hand over my knee. The sting was sharp, but it was nothing a little antiseptic and some bandages wouldn’t fix.

Duusu fluttered up and perched on my shoulder, nuzzling my neck. “You’re tougher than you look, Marilla.”

I smiled weakly, feeling a little better with her company.

“Yeah, well… next time, maybe fewer stunts and more walking?”

She chirped agreement.

With a grimace, I headed out of the station, limping but alive, Now known publically.

Chapter Text

"Im telling you, CHICKEN IS BETTER THEN SHRIMP!" So you might be asking, whats going on here?

I throw more throwing knives at Chat noir while glaring at Shrimperor, yes thats the Akumas name. Some dude obsessed with shrimps who got pissed nobody was buying.

"You stupid bird, its obvious that shrimp is the superior food." He argued back trying to stab Ladybug with his lance.

Ladybug ducked under the sweep of Shrimperor’s weirdly ornate shrimp-lance, vaulting over a tipped-over food cart with a graceful twist. “Shrimp is fine, but chicken’s more versatile! You ever had popcorn shrimp? Now popcorn chicken, that’s magic.”

“I will not stand for this slander!” Shrimperor yelled, firing a boiling beam of water from his lance at Ladybug who jumped out of the way.

Meanwhile, on the rooftop just above the market, I dodged another wild swing from Chat Noir, spinning like a goth ballerina on caffeine and pure spite.

"So Unlucky kitten, Chicken or Shrimp? Whats your opinion?" I ask while throwing several more throwing knives from my fan before closing it and opening to reload the knife fan.

Chat Noir twirled his baton mid-block, narrowly deflecting one of the fan-knives with a flick that sent it clattering off a chimney behind him. “Chicken, obviously!” he said with a grin.

"See!" I turn to shout at the akuma, "Im supposed to be helping you but even I know Shrimp sucks!"

I jump into the air and start making a stream of knife barrages throwing as many knives as I can at Chat Noir like a hailstorm of blades.

The clatter of my knives against metal echoed like war drums across the Parisian rooftops as Chat Noir leapt back, his baton spinning in a blur to deflect the worst of the incoming flurry. He landed with a theatrical flair, hair tousled, tail whipping behind him, and that dumb grin still glued to his face.

“You’re really throwing a tantrum over seafood preferences?” he called, breath slightly ragged as another fan-knife grazed his side. “You need a hobby.”

I flipped mid-air, landing nimbly on a wrought-iron balcony with a grin that could cut glass. “Oh I have one, kitten. It’s making your life mildly inconvenient.”

Below us, Shrimperor snarled and flung a boiling torrent of water at Ladybug, who cartwheeled away, her yo-yo wrapping around a lamppost to slingshot her out of range.

“You’re outnumbered and outgunned!” he yelled, now hopping on one foot as he slipped slightly on a trail of his own butter sauce. “Surrender your slanderous poultry propaganda!”

Ladybug groaned. “This guy seriously has shrimp shoes?”

“They’re limited edition!” Shrimperor barked, puffing up his chest like a particularly soggy bird.

Back up top, I slashed the air with my newly reloaded fan, knives clicking into place. “So, shrimp-lance, shrimp-boots, shrimp-cape,where’s the shrimp monocle? I feel like that’d complete the look.”

Chat Noir lunged at me, forcing me to vault off the railing as he swept his baton in a wide arc. I twisted, flipping over him mid-air and tapping his head with the closed edge of my fan. “Tag,” I whispered, before landing behind him.

He spun. “You’re insufferable.”

“I try my best.” I winked before sweeping his legs making him fall off the rooftop.

I use this Oppertunity to start chucking knifes at Ladybug who was also dealing with a charge from Shrimperor.

Ladybug caught the glint of my fan mid-dodge and groaned loudly. “Seriously, Vainquill?!”

“You're welcome!” I called cheerily, launching another flurry of knives that forced her to flip backward straight into the arms of a charging Shrimperor.

“Oh, fu-” she started, before getting yeeted through a decorative seafood stand labeled “Poseidon’s Picks.” Crabs scattered in all directions like judgmental little witnesses.

Shrimperor cackled, leveling his lance. “No one escapes the crustacean cascade!”

He jammed the lance into the ground, summoning a wave of steamy water that hissed toward Ladybug like a rolling sauna. She barely managed to grapple-hook a nearby flagpole and swing out of range, coughing from the steam.

Meanwhile, Chat Noir dragged himself over the edge of the roof, scowling and absolutely covered in discarded lettuce from the salad bar he crash-landed into.

“Vainquill,” he called, dusting himself off, “I swear on my last nine lives-”

“Better make it your eighth, chatty,” I cut him off, hurling a blade that sliced off a bit of his belt. He caught it mid-air with a dramatic gasp.

“Okay, that was rude.”

“You started it.”

While we were bickering, Shrimperor tried skewering Ladybug again. She snapped her yo-yo taut and yanked herself up onto a bus stop sign, panting. “Alright, shrimp-boy. Let’s end this.”

“You mean begin the era of shellfish superiority!” he screeched.

“Honestly, you sound like you got rejected by a Red Lobster,” I muttered.

“THREE TIMES,” he snapped at me, eyes twitching. “I WAS A LOYAL CUSTOMER.”

"LUCKY CHARM!"

"And thats my que to run," I turn and start booking it, Im not risking getting my miraculous almost taken again by some dumb shit summoned by lucky charm.

I dont even look back to bother seeing what Ladybug got.

I was already halfway down the next block, darting across rooftops with knife-fan in hand, muttering curses under my breath. “Not sticking around to get beaned by a poultry-based miracle. Again.”

“HEY!” Chat Noir called from behind me, panting. “You can’t just, ow, run when it gets spicy!”

I flipped backwards onto a slanted skylight, spun mid-air, and shouted over my shoulder, “Watch me, Chatty-boy!”

I jump as high as I can then just spread my jacket wide like wings to start gliding away at high speeds.

"GET FUCKED CATBOOOOOOOOOOOY!" I shouted as loud as I can not even sure he could hear me as I flew away.

I banked hard left, narrowly avoiding a water tower, the rush of wind snatching the laughter right out of my lungs. My jacket fluttered like a flag of defiance, my formal secretary blazer turned impromptu glider, courtesy of years of improvisation and spite.

Far below, I could just make out Chat Noir on the edge of a rooftop, hands on his knees, wheezing like a broken accordion. He cupped his hands to his mouth.

“THAT’S NOT HOW PHYSICS WORKS!”

I stuck out my tongue in response.

After being sure I lost him I slowly glide into the girl's bathroom, "Duusu, fold my plumes."

I transform back into my civilian state.

"Wow that was a horrible akuma! I like shrimp, no I hate shrimp!" Duusu flew around in her usual chaotic manor.

"So this is like my... eigth? Ninth? use of the Peacock miraculous, soooo how many years do I have left from using it that many times? Pretty sure its 15 years for using it once, im not sure exactly how much each use withers away at my time to live." I ask while handing her some almonds.

Duusu fluttered around the cramped bathroom like a tiny, irritable hurricane, clutching the almonds I tossed her way. “Well, it’s complicated, Marilla,” she chirped, nibbling thoughtfully. “The Peacock Miraculous doesn’t just chip away at your lifespan linearly. It’s more like… it burns away at someone's body, but in your case its burning at your internal fuel tank as”

I raised an eyebrow. “Internal fuel tank? What does that even mean?”

“Well, unlike most humans, you’re not just a regular mortal with a Miraculous. You have, how do I put this, magic in your veins,” Duusu explained, fluttering up to hover beside my ear.

"Magic? Like- Spell crafting?" I ask tilting my head.

"No No! Well- Sorta...? The last human who had magic was the creator of the original miraculous, the sage. But you dont have a lot of magic, nowhere near enough to build a miraculous or do anything he did, just enough that your body is holding off the broken miraculous and boosting it."

I hum, wait? "Boosting?"

"Notice how you made two sentimonsters? Senti-Marilla and DJ Prior, you had both active at the same time, a normal person can only have one sentimonster created by them running around, but you had two!" Duusu flew around eating another almond.

I blinked, leaning back against the sink as Duusu zipped by like a hyperactive pigeon in a jewelry store. “Wait, hold up. You’re telling me I’m a magic battery?”

Duusu nodded with her whole body. “Exactly! You’re like… a really squishy, sarcastic, almond-gifting magical battery. It’s why you haven’t, you know,” she made a little explosion gesture, “popped yet.”

“That’s... comforting,” I muttered. “Good to know I’m not just stubborn, I’m enchanted.”

I peered into the grimy mirror, brushing back a stray strand of hair. My reflection looked tired, yes, but not disintegrating. Not yet, anyway. “So that means I can keep using the Miraculous longer than anyone else, right? Like a discount immortal?”

Duusu shrugged. “More like a very lucky toaster running on borrowed lightning. Eventually something’s gonna short-circuit, but for now? Toast away, queen.”

"Damn right im a queen-" I begin only to grab Duusu out of the air and shove her into my pocket as Alya walks in.

"Hey Marilla, have you seen Marinette anywhere?" Alya asked glancing around. "She said she had to use the restroom but well- I dont see her in here and shes been gone for 45 minutes."

I shrug, "She was here then ran off to check on something, I think she left something on at the house, it should be quick since well- the bakery literally right beside the school."

"Ah, alright." Alya turns walking off.

Welp, I had no idea what episode today is but now I know, Lady Wifi.

This is going to be a great day!

I hum walking out and suddenly get tackled, "AGH- Sorry Marilla!"

I groan getting up and smiling at Alix.

"Nah your fine, why are you skating around the school do?" I look down at her rollerscates.

Alix grinned like the absolute menace she was, neon-pink goggles perched on her forehead and knees scuffed from reckless freedom. “Because authority is a suggestion and the bell hasn’t rung yet.”

“‘Cause you haven’t been suspended yet,” I shot back, brushing off my skirt and shaking the wrinkles from my jacket. “Again.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve only been suspended once this semester,” she said proudly, rolling backward in a little circle before dramatically dabbing. “That’s called growth.”

“You dabbed. That negates the growth.”

“Shut up,” Alix laughed, punching my arm lightly. “Anyway, I saw a flying shrimp monster hosing down a market like an overexcited bidet, akumas are weird."

I chuckle before I pause to test out something, "What do you think of Vainquill?"

"That villain that keeps showing up with the Akumas nowadays?" Alix paused tilting her head in thought.

"Yeah, her," I said, watching Alix's expression closely.

She scratched her chin, squinting into the middle distance like she was trying to remember if she'd left the stove on in a parallel universe. "Honestly? Kinda iconic. Little dramatic, super extra, but like… in a committed way. Costume’s nuts. I mean, feathers everywhere. You see that stupid feathery mask? It’s like a rave and a bird sanctuary had a baby."

I felt a twitch at my eye. "Uh-huh."

"Also Weirdly Attractive"

I almost trip and faceplant on the floor at that comment- WAHYRHYADAYHU WHAT?

My brain just blue-screened. No joke. You know that sound a computer makes when it dies inside? Yeah. That was me.

I stared at Alix like she’d grown a second head, and that second head had just proposed marriage to a raccoon in a trench coat. “Weirdly attractive?” I croaked, voice an octave too high and two seconds too late.

Alix didn’t even notice my existential collapse. She just shrugged like she was rating a new brand of cereal. “I mean, yeah? She’s got that like, tall, mysterious, gonna-stab-you-in-a-monologue way about her. You know the type.”

No. No, I didn’t know the type. That was me. She was describing me. Me, who had monologued about how chicken was better then shrimp while holding a knife fan. I was the type.

“And the way she moves?” Alix added, now full-on gushing, “It’s all flowy and sharp. Like, she looks like she rehearses her fight scenes with interpretive dance. It’s impressive. Kinda hypnotic.”

I blinked. “Hypnotic.”

“Yup.”

“You’re into feathered rage-gremlins.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

I stared ahead blankly as we walked, reconsidering every life choice that had led me to this moment. Alix had a crush on my villain alter ego. Which meant, by proxy, she had a crush on me. Which meant I had two options now:

1. Die.

2. Pull a Marinette and develop a crush on alix and cause a weird love triangle thats more like a love V or a love cylinder.

I froze mid-step, staring at Alix like she’d just handed me a live grenade disguised as a cupcake. “So… you think Vainquill’s hot.”

She grinned like I’d just confirmed the meaning of life. “Yeah, I mean, come on, who wouldn’t? It’s the whole package. Mystery, danger, a ridiculous feather motif. Plus, she’s got swagger.”

Swagger? Swagger? The word echoed inside my head like a bad ringtone.

I wanted to scream, 'That’s me!' but instead, I just forced out a nervous laugh and kept walking, hoping the ground would swallow me whole.

“Hey,” Alix nudged me, her rollerblade wheels clicking against the pavement, "Are you jeeellly"

"What- Me? No no no non ono- Im not jealous of anyone!" I sputter out as Alix just grins.

"Wow Marilla, I didnt know you felt that way for Vainquill aswell." She teased as I had another mental restart.

"Suuuure." I drag out awkwardly, lying that I was in love with myself is better then grabbing Alix and looking her in the face and saying 'I have a crush on you.'

...jesus chrsit Im not as straight as I thought-

My train of thought is interrupted by the locker room slamming open and Chloe marching out with Sabrina following with Kim behind and a moment later, Alya chasing after.

Well that cant be good, I think as Chloe went up the stairs and practically ran into the principal's office with everyone else following suit.

I glance at Alix, who immediately notices the commotion too and stops short.

“What do you think that’s about?” she mutters.

“Either Chloe’s finally snapped,” I murmur, “or Alya caught her trying to install a throne in the girl's bathroom again.”

Alix lets out a snort, “No way, last time she tried that, the janitor declared war.”

I would’ve laughed too if I wasn’t distracted. Chloe barging into the principal's office wasn’t new. But Sabrina looking worried? Kim looking guilty? And Alya bringing up the rear, holding her phone like a loaded weapon? That was new.

We inch closer, heading upstairs and pushing our ears against the wall to listen in.

"She's guilty of invasion of privacy, and I have PROOF!" Chloe shouts as I roll my eyes listening in.

"All I did was take a stupid Photo." Alya argued back as I can imagine Chloe glaring at her.

"Chloe, theres no policy in the school for Invasion of privacy so there wont be any-" Damocles began only for Chloe to interrupt.

"Then breaking and entering! I dont care just punish her!" Chloe shrieked.

"The locker was already wide open and I didnt take anything." Alya replied getting annoyed.

"Is that right, nothing was stolen?" Damocles asked Chloe.

"Only my very soul!" Me and Alix share a 'wtf is this dramatic bitch' look before continuing to listen in.

"Its my secret garden, to enter is to vandilize my very BEING!" Chloe continued on dramatically.

I would be more surprised but drama class she does surprisingly good in, well- thats obvious.

"Fine, an hour of detention for you Alya." Damocles decides as Chloe's fake crying immediately stops.

"Only one hour for this heinous criminal? Thats it? Sabrina."

Sabrina clears her throat, "Any student who stole shall be suspended for one whole week."

"Well she hardly sto-" Damocles began only for Chleo to interrupt.

"I think my dad would disagree, you know, the mayor." I walked towards the door as alix looked at me and shook her head like 'dont do it'

"WELL YOUR DAD CAN SUCK IT!" I shout kicking the door open as all five sets of eyes lock onto me.

I turn pointing to kim, "Why are you guarding chloe? You know shes a bitch."

Chloe gasps but I dont care.

"Chloe, fuck you."

Chloe’s mouth flapped open like a dying fish. “You feral sewer goblin! You swine-faced delinquent! You can’t speak to me like that!”

“Oh I absolutely can, piss hair.” I cross my arms. “You’re just mad someone finally called you out in front of your emotional support lackeys.”

Kim winces, glancing between us like he’s watching a war crime unfold. Sabrina is visibly shaking. Alya’s holding in laughter so hard it looks like she might rupture a lung.

Chloe storms forward, red-faced. “I will end you, you mouth-breathing, knockoff-sneaker wearing-!”

“Please,” I snort, “you look like a knockoff Barbie dipped in discount perfume and entitlement.”

“YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Chloe shrieks, spinning to Damocles. “Suspend her! Suspend her right now!”

Damocles starts to say something, but I’m louder.

“Go ahead! Suspend me for calling a manipulative spoiled brat exactly what she is. I’ll wear it like a badge of honor!”

“You want a badge?” Chloe smirks with that snake-in-prada look. “How about permanent record material? Daddy would love to hear about your past activities, Marilla~” She bats her lashes with that venom-laced sweetness.

"I already have a mark on my record for beating your ass, should I break your nose again?" I threaten cracking my knuckles.

Damocles slams his hands on the desk, “Enough! That is enough!”

But it’s too late. The verbal floodgates have opened and hell hath no fury like a pissed-off Marilla and a riled-up Chloe.

“You broke my shoe last time!” Chloe shrieks.

“You tried to break my spine first!”

“It was Chanel!”

“It was assault, bitch!”

“Oh my GOD,” Kim mutters under his breath, backing up to the wall as if it might protect him.

“I don’t care if it was Chanel, Versace, or knockoff Goblin Couture, I’ll break your face next time!” I snap, stepping forward.

“I’LL TELL MY DADDY!”

“Tell your daddy to eat my-”

“MARILLA.” Damocles’s voice cracks mid-yell.

But Chloe’s already whirling on him. “If you don’t suspend her right now, I will be calling Daddy. And I will be mentioning your little habit of signing off on budget reports without reading the fine print. Like that one last month. With the suspicious purchases.”

Damocles freezes like someone just slapped him with a tax audit.

“I… see,” he says slowly, eyes darting between Chloe and the invisible guillotine she’s dangling above his neck. “Well. In that case…”

I fold my arms and stare him down. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Marilla,” he says, adjusting his tie with trembling fingers. “You’re suspended for two days. Effective immediately.”

I explode.

“You’re actually serious? You’re taking her side? The human parasite that built a nail salon in the school bathroom and made Sabrina pretend to be the shampoo girl?!”

“I had business cards!” Sabrina pipes up quietly before shrinking back into herself.

“This is BULLSHIT,” I say, nearly vibrating with rage. “This school is actually being run by a dictator with a gold-plated iPhone.”

“Leave. Now.” Damocles says, avoiding my eyes.

I grit my teeth so hard it’s a miracle my jaw doesn’t crack.

“Fine,” I hiss, whirling around and grabbing Alya by the wrist. “You. Me. Suspension ice cream. Let’s go.”

“Wait what-” Alya starts, but I’m already dragging her out of the office at a brisk, rage-powered pace.

Behind us, we hear Chloe muttering, “Have fun at your stupid ice cream parlor, I hope it melts before you get there.”

I don’t even look back.

“Have fun being a friendless leech with zero emotional development and a rich dad who can’t buy you a personality!”

After leaving the school and getting ice cream, me and Alya sat on a random bench. I got Oreo ice cream of course and Alya got basic chocolate.

"Welp, we can both agree that sucked." I say licking my ice cream.

An Akuma should come at any time to turn Alya into Lady Wifi, but eh might aswell just sit and wait with her for that.

Alya let out a long sigh and stabbed her spoon into the chocolate ice cream like it owed her money.

“I know she’s Ladybug,” she muttered darkly.

I paused mid-lick. “…Sorry, who?”

“Chloe! Chloe Bourgeois! She’s totally Ladybug!” Alya hissed, eyes darting around like she was worried spies were listening. “Think about it, she's rich, she's always vanishing when stuff goes down, and she acts like she's sooo much better than everyone else. Classic double life behavior!”

I blink at her. “You think Chloe, actual Chloe, is a superhero?”

Alya nodded aggressively. “It makes sense! Who else has the money for custom weapons and flashy acrobatics? And have you seen how she flips her hair? That’s totally a disguise tactic. Emphesis her golden hair so nobody thinks shes ladybug due to different hair colors!"

I squint at her. “That sounds like something you read on an astrology Tumblr post.”

Alya kept going like she didn’t hear me. “Also, she’s always getting into fights with me! She must be mad that im trying to be the lois lane and report on her and chat noir!"

I just squint harder at how far Alya is stretching things, is this her being dumb or so stubborn she became delusional.

I opened my mouth, closed it, looked at her, then back at my ice cream. “…I think the sun cooked your brain.”

“I’M SERIOUS!” she barked, jabbing her spoon in my direction. “Just imagine it: prim and perfect Chloe by day, miraculous warrior of justice by night. The drama! The duality!”

“I’m imagining it,” I deadpan. “And all I see is her tripping on her heels and yelling at the Eiffel Tower for not being gold enough.”

“She has the attitude to hide behind the mask! It’s the perfect cover!” Alya was on a roll now, pacing in front of the bench, chocolate ice cream forgotten. “I’m gonna prove it. One day, I’ll rip that mask off and everyone’ll see what I already know.”

“Uh-huh. And what are you gonna do when Ladybug turns out to be, I dunno, literally anyone but Chloe?”

“Then I’ll eat a thousand snails. But I’m not wrong.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned back with a loud sigh. “Alright, sure. Chloe is Ladybug. I’m secretly Chat Noir. The ice cream guy is Hawk Moth. We’re all in this elaborate Paris-wide soap opera.”

“Hey, don’t joke,” Alya muttered, still staring at her phone like it might burst into flames. “You never know who’s hiding behind the mask.”

I take a long lick of my ice cream noticing something.

A black butterfly lands on her phone and melts into it, the familiar visor of my boss appearing on her face. "Its time to expose all the lies of people who cover the truth." Alya said after a moment.

Black and purple smoke covered her before Alya became Lady Wifi.

"WAIT!"

She was about to run off before she turned and I shoved the chocolate ice cream into her hand.

"I dont care you got akumatized, I paid good money for this, eat it before you go get revenge on chloe or something." I deadpan, I already have a few ideas for sentimonsters once I turn into Vainquill later.

Lady Wifi blinked at the ice cream in her hand like she'd never seen it before. “...Are you serious?”

“Yes,” I say firmly, licking my Oreo cone. “Villain or not, it’s still rude to waste dessert.”

There’s a long pause. She looks down at the chocolate swirl, visor glitching slightly as her emotions try to stabilize under the corruption. For a moment, she just stands there.

Then, she shrugs. “You know what? Fine.”

And she sits back down.

Lady Wifi just drops into the seat next to me like she didn't just get possessed by evil magic, adjusts her gloves, and starts eating the damn ice cream. Slowly. Deliberately. Like she’s taking back every ounce of control one bite at a time.

I nod approvingly. “See? Much better.”

She points at me with the spoon. “But after this, Chloe’s getting canceled.”

“Sure. Wipe her off the face of the internet. Just finish your snack first.”

We sit in silence, save for the gentle click click of her visor adjusting and the rhythmic scrape scrape of the plastic spoon against the cup. I tap my fingers on my knee, mentally flipping through potential Sentimonster ideas. Something ironic? Something obnoxious? Something that throws shoes?

Maybe a sentimonster that spams fake news. Or one that drags people into phone screens like an over-committed livestreamer. 'Stream Fiend'? 'Buffer Belle'? 'Lagbyte'? Hmm...

Lady Wifi put the ice cream down and suddenly jumped off, wow not even a thank you.

I sigh and Duusu peaks out of my jacket smiling.

"You know what time it is, Duusu, Spread my Plumes!"

The light wraps around me as I become Vainquill, I chase after her knowing she'll be at Damocles first.

I hum doing the totally smart thing... drop kicking through the principal's window startling Damocles and Lady Wifi.

"Sup Lady Wifi, Names Vainquill, hawkmoth's assistant, yada yada, so whats your plans since I'll be helping you." I say getting up and patting glass shards off myself.

Damocles lets out a high-pitched “MY WINDOW!” and dives under his desk like it’ll protect him from two powered-up disasters having a meeting in his office.

Lady Wifi looks up from where she was mid-interrogation with a scowl and the school’s academic integrity handbook in hand like she was about to weaponize it. “You drop-kicked your way into this?”

I shrug. “Had to make an entrance. Otherwise how would you know I’m dramatic and helpful?”

She narrows her eyes but doesn’t immediately blast me with a pause screen, so I count that as a win.

“So,” I continue, dusting off a feather that somehow stabbed into my shoulder, “your plan? Spill.”

"Simple, first," Lady Wifi forced Damocles up and pushed him into his chair. "A Confession."

She turned on the video recorder in the room.

Lady Wifi leaned onto his shoulder glaring, "So Mr. Damocles, is it true you wroungly suspended a student named Alya."

I stand behind the camera and open my knife fan and pretend to fan myself while obviously making a threat.

"Uh... yes it is." He folded like an omlette.

"So you were biased, unfair and totally Unjust?" Lady Wifi questioned.

"Yes I was." He admitted again quietly.

"Remember to stay tuned," Lady Wifi looked into the camera.

I moved onto screen, "As next we'll be seeing the girl behind the Ladybug mask!"

Lady Wifi turned throwing a pause button onto Damocles freezing him as the camera took off.

"Alright so, you go do whatever, im going to take a side track." I turn and instead of jumping out the window I already broke, walk over to the other side, break the other window, then jump out that and start heading for the Le grand paris hotel.

Specifically a bit away from it.

Mainly because I need a moment to test something I remembered, in this episode chat noir and ladybug somehow used there miraculous as telescopes so how do I do that- I stare at my fan, I start just spam clicking the link button that would unlink a knife from the fan but all it did was just make knives fall down.

I close and re-open the fan to restock it as I hum at my miraculous tool.

Apparently all the miraculous can be used as communicators and do stuff like that but how does mine work...

I close it and try pulling and- bingo. It suddenly pulls apart like some kind of hand-held tablet with the blades being the two sides.

Weird.

Oh shit I have a call feature-

I click the purple moth icon as I call Hawkmoth, I wait as theres a surprisingly catchy ringtone.

The screen buzzed with static for a moment, then flickered, revealing Hawkmoth’s looming figure, all moody lighting and masked billow, as usual. He looked like he’d been interrupted from a villainous monologue in front of a mirror.

“What is it, Vainquill?” he said, voice flat but with that ever-present You’re-on-thin-ice energy. “You’re not calling just to show off again, are you?”

“I mean… I could be,” I said, propping my chin on one hand. “But no. Just testing out this neat fan-phone thing. Didn’t know it had a call feature.”

His mask twitched. “That is not what this line is for.”

“Right, right. Only for Serious Villain Business™, like yelling at me in high definition,” I said with a smirk. “Anyway, Lady Wifi’s doing her thing. Got Damocles to fold like a house of cards in a hurricane. She’s filming. Probably gonna make a whole YouTube docu-series.”

Hawkmoth narrowed his eyes. “And you?”

“Breaking windows. Testing fan functions. Threatening school officials with feathers and knives. The usual.”

His sigh was audible. “I don’t care how dramatic your entrances are. We’re not paying for window repairs.”

“Oh, you pay me?” I blinked.

He immediately ended the call.

“…Rude.”

I snapped the fan shut, it clicked back into its standard, sassy form. “I swear that man would have more friends if he stopped monologuing at butterflies and started investing in mental health.”

I hum seeing Chat Noir and Ladybug in the distance as I slowly creep closer.

"You don't actually believe She's the real ladybug, do you?" Ladybug joked holding up her yo-yo as it openned and it looked like a camera.

It zoomed into Chloe in a ladybug costume wrapping herself up in a yo-yo and falling.

"Yeah, your right." Chat noir stood up grinning.

"Besides, who would believe she's the original Ladybug?" She joked standing up herself.

"I dunno, she seems pretty convincing." I say sitting on the platform... thing? 

Whatever this thing is behind them.

Both Heroes turn immediately drawing weapons, "Vainquill!" They somehow shout at the same time.

"Howdy Hay," I just give a dumb wave of greetings dramatically.

Ladybug’s eyes narrowed, the light from her yo-yo-camera flickering as she focused on me. Chat Noir twirled his baton, tail flicking with suspicion.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the infamous Vainquill,” Ladybug said, voice sharp but amused. “Come to stir the pot again?”

I leaned back on the platform thing, crossing one leg over the other like I was on some ridiculous villainous catwalk. “You know me, always here to complicate your day. Plus, gotta keep you two on your toes. What’s life without a little chaos?”

Chat Noir smirked, stepping forward. “You’re lucky we’re busy with that ‘Ladybug cosplay catastrophe’ over there, or you’d be in a whole lot of trouble.”

I hum seeing behind them a flash of pink light, Lady Wifi probably confronting chloe, so time to continue distracting.

"So, are you two like... a thing? Ive been meaning to ask that since well- villain and hero arch enemies and all." I ask pointing between Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Ladybug’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and she immediately looked away, fiddling nervously with her yo-yo. “I-it’s not like that, okay? We’re just partners. Friends. Nothing more!”

Chat Noir’s grin widened, clearly loving the opportunity. He stepped closer, voice lowering into that teasing, smooth tone he always reserved for flirting. “Oh, come on, Bug. You can deny it all you want, but everyone can see the sparks. Besides…” He gave me a sidelong wink, “I think she likes it when I’m charming.”

Ladybug swatted his arm, but her smile betrayed her embarrassment. “Stop it, Chat Noir! You’re impossible.”

I chuckled, folding my fan with a snap. “Awww, that’s adorable. The classic reluctant romance routine. It suits you two.”

I freeze as one of the screens down in the street turn on and the two look seeing Lady Wifi... leaning on Chloe in her ladybug costume.

"YOU WERE DISTRACTING US!" Ladybug accused as I suddenly ran past them jumping through the open padio into the hotel as I slam the doors shut.

"Sorry I was late- continue your big reveal." I tell Lady wifi knowing she's not revealing the real ladybug but this is humiliating for the frozen chloe so I'm down for it.

Lady wifi gave me a weird look before continuing, "Everyone thinks the person behind the ladybug mask is a little angel but think again people."

Lady Wifi grabbed onto Chloe's mask, "The real Ladybug is... CHLOE BOURGEOIS!"

"Woohoo- AGH!" I do a cheer only to get sent flying as Chat Noir and Ladybug kick the padio door open making me roll and get up beside Lady Wifi.

Lady Wifi was silent looking between Ladybug and Chloe, ladybug and chloe, then once more.

"Who are you?" She shouted pointing at Ladybug who just deadpanned at her.

"You do realize the miraculous outfit is magic right? Also-" I begin to educate Lady Wifi as I point at chloe's ears, "No earrings, no miraculous. Its just a costume."

Lady Wifi stared at me then sighed.

"Maybe double check your sources." Chat Noir quipped grinning.

Lady Wifi swiped on her phone getting rid of the record button and pause button making Chloe go tumbling.

"Alya, this isnt-" Ladybug began only to get interrupted.

"Alya's been Disconnected, its Lady Wifi." Lady Wifi insisted before getting in a stance, "Newsflash, lets see who you really are!"

I drew my knife fan and started taking out knives and chucking them at Chat Noir while Lady Wifi swiped pause buttons at Ladybug who started jumping out of the way.

"Why is it always me who has to fight Vainquill!" Chat Noir Complained rolling out of the way and raising a pillow as as shield.

"HEY! THOSE ARE EXPENSIVE!" Chloe shouts as the pillow is torn apart by my knife barrage.

As the pillow explodes into a burst of white feathers, Chat Noir is immediately engulfed in the cloud of fluff.

"Achoo!" he sneezes once, then twice, then a rapid-fire "Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!" echoes across the penthouse floor.

He stumbles backward, waving his baton wildly in front of his face, trying to bat the floating feathers away. “Why is it always feathers?!”

“Oh my god, you’re allergic to feathers?” I pause mid-knife-throw, incredulous. “You’re a cat-themed superhero. Cats eat birds. That feels like a design flaw.”

Ladybug lands beside him and immediately starts tugging him back behind a column for cover. “Stop breathing in, dummy! You’re gonna pass out from sneezing!”

“I can’t!” Chat Noir gasps between sneezes, eyes watering. “My whole face is trying to escape my skull!”

Chloe, still tied in yo-yo string and tangled in what’s left of the Ladybug knockoff costume, yells, “Those are decorative down-filled French imports, you monsters! Do you know how much those cost?!”

Lady Wifi blinks at the chaos unfolding and actually lowers her phone for a second. “This… wasn’t in the plan.”

Seeing how close Chat Noir was to a window, I do the reasonable thing...

...I run at him and fucking kick him out the window.

"If that suit can protect him from a choke slam from a second floor, him falling from six floors shouldn't kill him." I say turning around and proceeding to start chucking knives at Ladybug.

Lady Wifi shakes out of her stunned moment to continue throwing pause buttons.

Ladybug jumps over Lady Wifi and runs out the door behind her, we give chase with Lady Wifi throwing a pause button that hits the elevator as Ladybug runs down the stairs.

I start heading up to the dining room as Lady Wifi throws more pause buttons down and misses Ladybug.

I reach the top and hum, "Welp times a good time then never."

I reach into my fan pulling out a white feather, I grip it tight as it glows blue before chucking it at a random phone. "Come on out... Wikiper!"

The Phone turned black then back to normal as from the amok came a large serpent made out of hundreds of different words, its eyes open being well, capital I's as pupils.

"Salutations my creator, I assume our task shall be to unequip Ladybug and Chat Noir of there Miraculous'?"

I blink, "Alright fancy talk, anyways-"

Im interrupted by Lady Wifi running in and she didnt seem to even register the Sentimonster there as she jumped into a phone vanishing.

"Hide on the roof," I order as I move to hide behind some potted plants.

Wikiper slithers up a wall and onto the roof.

A moment later Ladybug and a limping chat noir burst in.

"She kicked me- OUT THE WINDOW!" Chat Noir complained, about me of course.

Ladybug didn’t even blink. She was too focused, her eyes scanning the space like a bloodhound. "We’ll deal with your bruised ego later. We need to find Lady Wifi and Vainquill before they regroup."

Chat Noir winced and rubbed his lower back. “There is no later if my tailbone files for retirement. That woman is violent.”

I bit back a grin behind the potted fern. Hearing him whine was always a little satisfying.

"Whats up with all these phones?" Ladybug questioned moving slowly.

Light shined from one of the phones as Lady Wifi shot out and swiped her own phone firing pause buttons.

The two heroes dodged as Lady Wifi began teleporting around.

"WIKIPER NOW!" I shout as I jump out.

Ladybug is startled as the giant serpent lands in front of her and rises, "Another Sentimonster! REALLY?"

Wikiper's eyes suddenly glowed blue, "A monster is a type of imaginary or fictional creature found in literature, folklore, mythology, fiction and religion. They are very often depicted as dangerous and aggressive, with a strange or grotesque appearance that causes terror and fear, often in humans. Monsters usually resemble bizarre, deformed, otherworldly and/or mutated animals or entirely unique creatures of varying sizes, but may also take a human form, such as mutants, ghosts, spirits, cannibals or zombies, among other things. They may or may not have supernatural powers, but are usually capable of killing or causing some form of destruction, threatening the social or moral order of the human world in the process."

Ladybug was suddenly frozen, forced into a disoriented state as Wikiper recalled the wikipedia page for well, Monsters.

Chat Noir blinked slowly, his pupils dilated like a stunned housecat.

“Wait… did it just say something about cannibal ghosts? What’s happening?” he mumbled, stumbling sideways into a coffee table and knocking over a very expensive decorative bowl, which shattered on the floor.

Lady Wifi looked up from her phone, blinking rapidly like someone waking from a trance. “Wha, why am I googling ‘monster symbolic literary representations’?” she muttered before collapsing onto the couch, staring at her phone with glazed eyes.

I shook my head, trying to refocus, but Wikiper just kept going: “The word ‘monster’ is derived from the Latin word monstrum, which is related to the verb monere, meaning ‘to warn.’ It was often used in ancient texts to describe creatures that served as omens or divine portents.”

“Wikiper!” I shout, gripping my skull like it might split open. “STOP! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARY, NOT A PODCAST!”

Wikiper turned to me with its glowing, blue I-shaped pupils, unbothered. “Clarification: I was enacting psychological warfare. Your opponents are now vulnerable to emotional and cognitive suggestion due to=”

“Shut up!” I scream, hurling a knife at the wall near its head. “New plan! Just grab Ladybug!”

Wikiper paused mid-sentence, “…as shown in the Epic of Gilgamesh, where monsters often represent…” then lunged at Ladybug with its word-wrapped body.

Ladybug, still glassy-eyed, tried to leap away but only managed a sluggish spin as she muttered, “Did it just cite Gilgamesh…?”

Wikiper coiled around the dazed Ladybug and tried to bite her ear off to get the miraculous out.

Only for suddenly in her disorientation, Lady Wifi chucked pause buttons at random and one hit Wikiper, ending the disorientation effect.

"HEY! FRIENDLY FIRE!" I shout at Lady Wifi as I try to lunge for Ladybug before she can break out of the frozen Wikiper's grip.

Ladybug’s eyes snapped into focus the moment the grip around her slackened.

“Thanks, Lady Wifi!” she shouted, twisting in midair with a grace only someone who had spent years in spandex could muster.

Lady Wifi blinked, still confused. “I... wait, that was good?”

I dove for Ladybug’s feet, arm outstretched. “No you don’t!”

Ladybug kicked off Wikiper’s loosening coils just in time, vaulting backward over a coffee table and landing in a crouch, hand extended.

Her Yo-yo slammed into one of the phones as Lady Wifi snapped out of it snarling.

"CHAT NOIR! BREAK THE PHONES! Lady Wifi is using them and the Amok must be in one of them!" Ladybug shouted as Chat noir shook his head.

"Fuck!" I shout annoyed as Lady Wifi unpauses Wikiper.

Instead of continuing to talk, Wikiper hissed and lunged at Chat Noir while I started chucking knives at Ladybug.

The chaos was deafening, knives sliced the air, yo-yos zipped like lightning bolts, and phones shattered like fragile dreams under frantic fists and paws.

Wikiper slithered and lunged, its sinuous body weaving through the destruction with eerie grace, launching razor-sharp punctuation marks at anyone who dared get close.

Chat Noir growled, dodging another whip-like lash of Wikipedia snake tail as he swung a fist into a nearby phone. The device exploded in a shower of sparks, shards flying everywhere. “Take that, you damn digital serpent!”

Ladybug leapt, spinning her yo-yo in a wide arc, smashing another phone into oblivion. “Keep destroying the phones! That’s where the amok has to be!”

Lady Wifi, blinking between moments of confusion and rage, hurled pause buttons in rapid succession, trying to keep us off balance. "Im going to reveal you, I WILL DESTROY YOU LADYBUG!"

“Too late for that!” I snarled, sending a knife flying toward Ladybug’s feet, forcing her to leap back.

Chat Noir hissed through a rapid-fire sneeze, feather allergy acting up again, as he crashed a fist into a phone perched precariously on the edge of a table.

CRACK!

The phone burst into a bright blue glow and immediately shattered.

"NOOOOOO!" I shout dramatically as Wikiper disintegrates into a blue and black bubbles that then vanish.

I breathe heavy before I use the best insult I know... "YOU BDSM WEARING FURRY!"

"EXCUSE ME?" Chat Noir whipped around staring at me dumbfounded.

Chat Noir blinked, face flushing a bright shade of red that almost rivaled his suit. “I am not a furry! And definitely not into BDSM!” he sputtered, trying to straighten his leather cat suit as if it were a bad wardrobe choice rather than his superhero uniform.

I arched an eyebrow, folding my knife fan with a snap. “Leather catsuit, tail, ears... I’m just saying, you’re walking the line, kitty. And no shame if you want to be honest about it.”

Lady Wifi and Ladybug, mid-fight, both froze and exchanged a glance. Then they both slowly lowered their weapons, clearly intrigued by this unexpected detour.

Ladybug tilted her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “This is... entertaining.”

Lady Wifi crossed her arms, eyebrow raised. “Honestly, this might be better than our fight.”

Chat Noir threw his hands up, exasperated. “I’m just here to save the day! Not to be... roasted.”

“Oh, but you’re making it too easy,” I said, circling him. “You run around in a full-body leather suit with cat ears. The only thing missing is a ‘Meow’ button.”

He groaned, “It’s called a costume! And it’s practical- stealth, flexibility, and, uh, aerodynamic.”

“Sure,” I said, “aerodynamic and completely extra.”

Lady Wifi suddenly turned running into the kitchen, I ran after and immediately lunged left as Ladybug ran in and ducked as Lady Wifi fired a lock symbol onto the door, preventing chat noir from getting in.

"Two vs one." I draw my knives as Lady Wifi starts throwing more pause buttons at Ladybug.

I do a swipe at her when Ladybug gets close but miss as she clocks me in the chin, like full on swings and punches me.

"OW-" I stumble into the fridge as Ladybug jumps to a wall only to get both her arms stuck to the wall above her head with lock symbols.

...

I shouldn't do it.

But this is so easy to make witty humor.

"Wow Lady Wifi, didnt know you were into that kind of stuff." I say smugly, wiggling my eyebrows behind my helmet.

Ladybug yanked at the lock symbols holding her arms above her head, twisting uncomfortably as her face flushed a deep red.

“What?! N-No, it’s not... this isn’t like that!” she stammered, feet dangling a little as she struggled.

Lady Wifi’s eyes went wide. “WHAT?!” she shrieked about to create a broadcast symbol but didnt wannt what Vainquill was saying to be heard by anyone else. “I- I didn’t mean to! I was just trying to neutralize her!”

I leaned casually against the counter, tossing my knife fan from hand to hand like I wasn’t slowly spiraling into de-transformation panic. “Look, I’m not judging. It’s a little on the nose, but hey, if you're into the whole damsel-dominatrix vibe-"

“I AM NOT!” both of them shouted in unison, their voices cracking slightly.

BEEP BEEP

My smirk vanished as my miraculous brooch lit up. Two purple buttons remaining.

Oh, shit.

I glanced down, heart skipping. That meant I had two minutes left before I unceremoniously poofed back into Marilla the Definitely Not a Supervillain Secretary. And I really didn’t want to be standing here mid-witty-banter when that happened.

"Anyways gotta go, uh have fun, reveal Ladybug's identity, keep it PG-13!" I run to the nearest window and I make my window destruction count a 4 by jumping through it and starting to run off back home.

I dive through the shattered window with a dramatic flourish, landing in a roll on the pavement below. No time to admire the wreckage, two minutes left on the miraculous clock and my body was already protesting. I sprinted home, adrenaline and panic in equal measure.

Once inside my room by sliding through the window I left open and seeing the door was open, I slammed the door and slammed my back against it, catching my breath. The room spun as the miraculous’s light faded from my chest.

With a soft pop, feathers fluttered away, and I was back to being plain-old Marilla. I didn’t even have the energy to care.

I collapsed face-first onto my bed, limbs splayed like a discarded doll.

Duusu zoomed out of my jacket, her tiny wings buzzing with glee. “That was so fun! You really are the drama queen of miraculous battles!” she chirped, doing a loop around the room.

I groaned muffled into the pillow. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

Duusu hovered closer, eyes gleaming. “Now, how about some almonds? Pretty please? I’m starving.”

I rolled over just enough to glare at her. “You’re relentless.”

“Almonds, almonds, almonds,” she sang, fluttering closer.

I sighed, reaching over to the nightstand. “Fine, one handful. But only because you’re annoying.”

Duusu zipped into my hand and immediately started munching like it was a five-star feast.

I closed my eyes and muttered, “Next time, remind me to never start fights with feather allergies and a hungry wikipedia snake.”

Chapter Text

I take a looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong sip of my slushie.

"This is going to be a interesting field trip." I mutter as Marinette is talking to Alya as Alya muttered about her ladyblog.

Kim was trying to argue he could outrun a train but Max was shooting him down.

Chloe was taking selfies, or more accurately Sabrina was taking selfies for Chloe.

What were we doing?

We were at a train station.

Thats it.

Our field trip, was to a train station.

Just because a 'new slow relaxation' train came out and they decided to donate free tickets to the school since tests are coming up soon.

I slurp obnoxiously loud just to make a point. Max glances my way with that twitch in his brow that says you’re annoying me, and I grin back at him with purple lips and icy teeth.

“This is the dumbest field trip I’ve ever been on,” I say, loud enough for most of the class to hear.

“Shh!” Marinette hisses, flicking her eyes toward our teacher, who’s reading a pamphlet on “The Healing Powers of Aromatherapy Cabins.” She’s barely holding in a groan herself.

Alya snorts. “Girl, just think of it like… a vacation, sort of. No homework, no akumas, just vibes.”

“I don’t do vibes,” I mutter, swirling my slushie like it holds answers. “I do loud music, vandalism, and mild emotional damage.”

Alya gives me a thumbs-up without looking up from her Ladyblog draft.

The conductor starts calling for us to board, and the class begins to shuffle toward the absurdly sleek white-and-lavender train. It looks like a perfume ad came to life and got transportation funding.

“Relaxation experience,” I mock under my breath, dragging my boots across the too-clean platform. “I’ll show them relaxation.”

Duusu buzzes faintly in the inner pocket of my jacket.

“Oooooh, I hate trains. No escape. No airflow. No drama unless someone gets stabbed in a narrow corridor. It’s so aggressively peaceful!”

“I feel you, dude,” I whisper.

“I’m a lady, thank you. Ugh. No respect.”

I pat my jacket gently. “Sorry. My bad. Lady Duusu, Empress of Emotional Whiplash.”

“I ACCEPT THIS TITLE.”

I hum as were put into the back two carts since normal passengers who well, paid are in the front carts. I sit on one of the chairs and- oh...

Oooooh....

I melt as I click a button and the chair vibrates, relaxing my muscles

They have built in massage chairs.

Alix plops beside me and melts into her own massage chair.

"This is amazing...." I take a long sip of my slushie.

Alix’s head lolls to the side like she’s seconds from flatlining. “Okay, I take it back. This field trip is the greatest scam the school has ever pulled. If this is how the bourgeois unwind, I’m starting a revolution just to seize the trains.”

“Down with the spa-train regime,” I mumble, letting my eyes flutter half-shut as the chair works out the tension in my spine that comes from daily double lives and frequent moral compromise.

Somewhere near the front of the cart, Nino’s complaining that he can’t bring his boom box, while Chloe is loudly demanding her “private bubble cabin” even though she’s literally surrounded by the rest of the class. Sabrina is nodding so hard it looks like she’s going to get whiplash.

Then I feel the slightest shift in the air. The kind of thing you don’t notice unless you’ve spent way too much time around magical nonsense and unstable butterfly men.

So I learned I had a new ability, sensing emotions.

I glance sensing it was Chloe, of course it was.

Jesus is she ever not mad.

I sigh as the wave of Chloe-flavored rage tickles the edge of my senses. It’s like cheap perfume, gold-plated tantrums, and a sprinkle of entitlement, unmistakable. I crack one eye open and squint toward her general direction.

“Five euros says she throws a fit so hard she bursts a blood vessel,” I mutter.

“Ten says she demands the train be rerouted to her penthouse,” Alix mumbles back, face half-squished into the massage chair.

I smirk, then slowly peel myself off the heavenly seat with all the reluctance of a cat leaving a sunbeam. Something about that emotional ripple felt… off. Chloe’s always angry, yeah, but this? It’s got teeth.

And call it intuition, call it the broken Peacock Miraculous giving me a passive sixth sense, but I’ve started picking up emotional shifts like flickers of candlelight. Some people feel like storms. Others like smog. Chloe feels like a dumpster fire in a tiara.

I walk over toward Alya, who’s sitting by the window, knees up, typing furiously into her phone. The second I get close, I see what she’s watching.

Oh.

Oh no.

Of course she's rewatching that fight.

On her screen, tiny chaotic pixels show Vainquill and Shrimperor tag-teaming Ladybug and Chat Noir in the middle of the Seine. It’s paused on the part where I, Vainquill, in full menace mode, twirl my knife-fan open with a smug little bow before hurling a razor-feather that narrowly misses Ladybug’s head.

Shrimperor, some crab-clawed seafood enthusiast with an unfortunate shrimp aesthetic, had made way too many water puns that day.

I grimace.

“That was… a weird one,” I say, nudging Alya’s arm casually.

She perks up, eyes bright. “Right? It was super weird! I mean, who pairs crab powers with a fan-wielding aristocrat villainess? But it kinda worked?”

I nod slowly, trying not to sound too proud. “I dunno. That Vainquill chick seems kinda… extra.”

Alya squints at the video. “She’s got major vibes though. Like, dramatic, but in that ‘my trauma is my fashion statement’ kinda way. And that fan? Sharp and shady.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So you’re… a fan of the fan?”

Alya snorts. “Hard not to be. She’s clearly nuts, but she’s also way more composed than most akumas. Less rage monster, more... I dunno, theater kid who did a deal with a demon.”

I laugh, partly because it’s accurate, partly because I’m trying to keep from screaming. "So what do you think of Vainquill? Kinda bad theres a second villain alongside Hawkmoth but at least they appear all the time instead of hiding in some mancave like what Hawkmoth does."

“You know,” I say casually, leaning against the window beside Alya, “if Vainquill was just a dramatic mess with a flair for villainy, maybe she’s doing it for the attention. Maybe she and Hawkmoth aren’t even on the same page. Maybe they just share a rent-controlled evil lair in the suburbs and hate each other’s interior design choices.”

Alya laughs, flipping her phone around and pulling up her Ladyblog notes. “Oh, that would be hilarious. Like a villain roommate sitcom. One’s broody and obsessed with butterflies, the other’s throwing knives and wearing gowns with 300% too many feathers. I’d watch that.”

I smirk, sipping the last of my slushie with an obnoxiously loud straw-suck. “Season finale twist: they were exes.”

Alya wheezes. “Please. Don't give the fandom ideas. You’ll start a ship war.”

If only she knew.

With the topic safely away from my double life, I wander off before she can spiral into fan theories. I do not need a “Vainmoth” tag trending. Again.

I gag.

I hate the internet.

I make my way through the carriage, scanning for signs of murder or magical mayhem (none yet, disappointing) and instead find myself watching the chaos of teenage boredom unfold.

Kim is hanging upside-down off the edge of a seat like some sort of golden retriever-human hybrid, arguing loudly with Nino about how many pushups he could do before the train ride ends. Max is clutching his tablet like it’s the last bastion of sanity in a world gone loud.

“Hey, Kim,” I call. “When you hit thirty, do you explode? I feel like you’d just spontaneously combust from raw energy.”

He grins, “I’d explode before thirty if Adrien challenged me.”

I snort. “That’s because you’re trying to impress the human golden statue.”

“Am not!”

“Kim,” Max mutters, not even looking up, “you just did 40 push-ups earlier because Adrien asked if you wanted the last cookie.”

Kim goes red. “...It was a good cookie.”

I move on.

Nathaniel is tucked into a window seat with his sketchpad, red curls flopping over his eyes as he doodles some fantasy-looking knight fighting a dragon with a really suspiciously familiar fan weapon. I slide in next to him without asking.

He looks up. “Yo.”

“Hey, Red. Drawing anything tragic?”

He tilts the pad toward me. “Fanblade Knight versus the Shrimp Beast.”

I choke on a laugh. “Please tell me the fan is an actual weapon in this world.”

“It cuts emotions,” he says, straight-faced. “Metaphorically. And sometimes literally. Depends on the page.”

“Beautiful. You’re sick and I adore it.”

We fist bump, and I leave him to it, half-because I want to see how bad it gets and half-because I don’t want to start crying if he accidentally draws Vainquill looking cool again.

I’m halfway through plotting the train’s structural weaknesses for absolutely no reason when I spot Marinette sitting two rows ahead, clutching her knees and hyperventilating into her hands.

Target acquired.

I slink up behind her like a dramatic ghost.

"Hey, Nette."

She jolts so hard she nearly knees the fold-down table in front of her. "M-Marilla! Don't do that!"

I grin like a gremlin and slide into the seat across from her. “Whatcha thinkin’ about? The crushing pressure of existence? The futility of time? The fact that Adrien sneezed in your direction and you haven’t recovered since?”

Her face turns the color of a tomato that regrets its life choices.

“I-I wasn’t-! He didn’t...! It’s not like-!”

I hold up a finger. “Say one word to him today.”

“I...”

“One.”

She opens her mouth. A squeak comes out. Not a word. Not even a syllable. Just a tiny, panicked pika noise.

“Wow. You’re regressing.”

“I am not!”

“Are too.”

“I’m trying!”

“Try harder. Go call him hot or something. Get it out of your system.”

Her soul leaves her body for a second. “Marilla!”

“Fine, fine. I’ll help. I’ll coach you.”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously.

“Here’s the plan,” I whisper, leaning over the table like it’s a mafia deal. “You go up to Adrien, real casual, and just say: ‘Hey, I like your face.’ Boom. Instant chemistry.”

“I- I’m not saying that!”

“Too bold? Okay. Plan B. Tap his shoulder, make finger guns, and say, ‘Do you model or are you just naturally illegal?’”

She whimpers.

I lean back with a satisfied sigh. “Or Plan C. You say nothing and keep staring at him until he thinks he’s haunted. Eventually, he falls in love out of fear.”

“You’re a menace,” Marinette groans, burying her face in her hands.

“I prefer ‘agent of chaos,’ thank you very much.”

I hum, walk up to chloe, "Fuck you bitch."

I walk off as she gocks at me. "FUCK YOU TOO!"

She shouts continuing our normal routine.

I grin like a kid who just popped the world's most obnoxious balloon. Chloe’s shrieking echoes through the train like some kind of pissed-off parakeet, and I give a dramatic little wave over my shoulder as I strut back to my massage chair throne.

Alix salutes me from her seat. “That sounded like a successful diplomatic mission.”

“Operation: Tell the Blonde Gremlin to Eat Cement was a complete triumph.”

I collapse into the chair and let it vibrate my brain back into blissful numbness. But of course, peace and quiet is a pipe dream when you’re a half-reformed villain with a psychic connection to a chaos gremlin kwami.

Duusu flutters awake with a yawn that sounds like an opera singer having a breakdown. “Did you just insult someone again? I love when you do that. It makes my feathers tingle.”

“Don’t get too excited. I insult people like, professionally. It's not special.”

Duusu giggles darkly. “You’re special to me.”

“That’s comforting.”

I close my eyes, trying to sink into the massage chair again, but that weird emotional pulse from earlier is still crawling up my spine like a spider made of spite.

"Tickets."

I jolt a bit, I look up at the train man.

"Here yah go," I grin at what I was waiting for, Duusu phases through my jacket and leg, oh that felt weird-

As he puts a hole in my Ticket, Duusu quietly hands me a ticket puncher.

I hum and as the man walks away, I start heading towards the front of the train.

I walk past Mylene and Ivan having a lovey dovey moment as I crouch into a small room between the final and second final cart.

"Alright, Duusu, Spread my Plumes!"

Duusu flies into the brooch as I turn into vainquill. "Come on out... CONDUCTOR!"

The feather I rip out of my fan I shove into the Ticket Puncher.

It flickers black as an Amok, blue and black smoke swirls and grows.

I grin as a large, slender figure forms. Long stretched out limbs with two joints on there arms that touch the ground with pure white skin. They had just a smile and wore a bellhop outfit, I hand him the Ticket Puncture.

"Wait five minutes before you start using your ability."

"Ticket's please." It says the only line it can as it nods.

I grin and de-transform.

I start sneaking out as I head back.

I blink seeing alya eating chips.

"FUCK! Did snack cart sneak by me?" I ask devastated.

Alya blinks at me, chip halfway to her mouth. “Uh… yeah? It rolled through while you were off being cryptic and weird.”

I clutch my heart like I've been mortally wounded. “You didn’t save me anything? Not even a pity cookie?”

“You disappeared like a Victorian ghost! What was I supposed to do, yell your name down the haunted spa train?”

I dramatically fall into the seat beside her. “I knew I should’ve committed theft earlier. Justice delayed is hunger incurred.”

From inside my jacket, Duusu whispers, mid-chew, “They had almonds.”

I twitch. “You’re eating them right now.”

She hums smugly, mouth full. “Emotional support almonds.”

I roll my eyes so hard I see my past lives. Marinette’s still curled into a shape that screams “social panic attack,” so of course, I decide to ruin her day for my own entertainment.

Sliding up behind her, I lean just close enough to watch her shoulders stiffen.

“Hey, Nette.”

She turns slowly like a doll in a horror movie. “W-what.”

I grin. “What do you think of Ladybug?”

Her eyes go wide. Like, bug-eyed, caught-in-a-web wide.

“L-Ladybug?!”

“Yeah.” I stretch the word out, casual as hell. “You know. Red suit. Yo-yo enthusiast. Fondness for rooftops and justice. What’s your take?”

Marinette fidgets, lips twitching into something like a seizure smile. “She’s… she’s great! Yeah! Super great! Like, um. Very brave! And strong! And- and fashionable!”

“Mm.” I hum, watching her squirm. “You think she’s hot?”

Her face detonates.

“I-! What?! Marilla!”

“I mean, like, just objectively. She is kind of a baddie, don’t you think?”

Marinette makes a noise I’ve only ever heard once before, and it came out of a dying blender.

I lean my elbow on the seat. “I bet she smells like strawberries and adrenaline.”

“STOP TALKING,” she squeaks.

“I bet Chat Noir’s in love with her. Like, madly. You think she likes him back?”

“I...! I don’t-! How would I know?!”

“Hmm.” I tap my chin, ignoring Duusu snickering in my jacket. “You do spend a lot of time thinking about her, huh?”

Marinette looks like she might implode.

I’m about to double down when something small and red zips just slightly out of her bag, then tucks back in faster than a guilty sock thief.

Gotcha.

I suppress my grin.

Tikki. Hiding right in her purse like a coward. Of course she’s here. Of course I would spot her, Duusu always says I have "kwami radar" now, like I can sniff them out on sheer vibes.

Duusu, mid-almond, mutters, “She’s here. I smell moral superiority.”

“I saw her.”

“Ugh. Tikki’s always judging. I can feel her little stare even when she’s hiding. Like a judgmental sprinkle.”

I subtly shift my jacket, pretending to get comfy, while whispering low enough only Duusu can hear: “Don’t engage.”

Duusu sighs. “Fine. But if she makes one snide comment about almonds being unhealthy I’m biting her.”

“Noted.”

Marinette is still trying to breathe like a normal person, her face seven shades of red. I decide to back off before she combusts and we have to explain why one half of the Dupain-Cheng gene pool is steaming from the ears.

“Anyway, I think Ladybug’s dope,” I say loud enough for Alya to overhear. “Powerful. Probably tired of dealing with Chat Noir’s nonsense. Maybe just needs a spa day and a partner who doesn’t flirt like a toaster.”

Alya nods sagely from her seat. “True. Honestly, she deserves, like, five boyfriends and a vacation.”

Marinette makes a squeaking noise like her soul is trying to escape her body and crawl under a seat cushion.

"OH FUCK-" The train car suddenly shakes as the lights go out and the train goes to a full stop under a tunnel I think.

The speaker over the train slowly turns on and The Conductor's creepy voice speaks out, "Wait... I will be checking for your tickets."

I hum and turn to alya, "20$ Thats an akuma." I say knowing damn well its a Sentimonster instead.

Alya’s face has gone full wide-eyed raccoon, gripping the armrest like it owes her money. “Marilla, this is not the time for bets, did you not hear the whole I will be checking for your tickets in full serial killer audio quality?!”

“I did,” I say, calmly sipping the melted sadness at the bottom of my slushie cup. “And it screams akuma. Or like, dollar-store horror movie villain. I mean, next he’s gonna monologue about fare evasion being a mortal sin.”

A faint ding chimes over the intercom.

Then the lights flicker again.

And stay off.

Only the blood-red emergency lights cast a sickly glow down the length of the train car.

“Okay. Okay. Okay.” Alya’s breathing is getting faster. “We are under a tunnel. The doors are locked. There is some THING stomping down the aisle asking for tickets, and Sabrina just fainted like a fainting goat. This is- this is bad.”

I glance around. Yep. Full panic blooming now.

Ivan is holding Mylène like she’s a life preserver, Nino’s standing in a defensive crouch like he thinks he’s going to fight a demon conductor with raw vibes, and Marinette-

Oh Marinette is gone, guess shes off to transform into Ladybug.

I peak through the windows between train carts and-

I stare at the conductor holding a woman up and ripping a golden ticket out of her before punching it with the ticket Puncture and she passes out into a coma like the other peoplel.

"NOPE!" I turn and shove chloe out of the way towards the door so she gets knocked out first knowing The Conductor is coming. "ALIX! ALYA! NATHANIEL! RUN! THE REST OF YOU UH- PANIC!" I scream at the top of my lungs as the long arms pull the cart door open moving in.

"Tickets Please?" It groans before suddenly reaching into Chloe, its hand phasing through her and pulling out a glowing yellow card and punching it making her pass out, Sabrina screams like the useless person she is.

I put on my best worried civilian face, voice trembling with fake concern. “Oh my god, someone please help!”

The conductor turns toward me, eyes vacant black pools, and its smile stretches impossibly wide.

“Tickets… please,” it groans.

I shuffle backward, heart pounding but mind sharp. The perfect distraction to slip away.

Heading for the final cabin, I dart through the narrow corridor, ducking past terrified students, the metallic clack of the conductor’s boots thundering behind me.

Suddenly, a crack splits the air.

Ladybug drops through the open roof like a crimson bullet, her kick connecting with the conductor’s jaw in a burst of kinetic fury.

He stumbles but doesn’t fall. The fight’s on.

I don’t wait to see how it plays out.

Sliding into a dark nook, "Duusu, Spread my Plumes!"

I transform into Vainquill and wait, Alya and Alix run into the last train cart closing the train door thinking there safe.

I take a long sip of a soda left there as the two turn.

"So, you run from the sentimonster into the arms of the actual villain, not really smart." I comment while fanning myself with my knife fan.

The dim red emergency lights flicker against the polished blades of my fan as I lean back, savoring the moment like a vintage wine, except this one tastes like chaos and broken promises.

Alix and Alya freeze, blinking at me like they just walked into the worst surprise party ever. “Wait, you’re the villain?” Alix breathes, clutching her bag like it’s a shield.

I smile, slow and sharp. “I’m the villain. Vainquill, at your service.”

Alya’s eyes dart wildly. “You sunk the conductor! But… why? You’re with Hawkmoth, right? Why save us?”

"I didnt save you, you just randomly ran into here. Im trying to drink a soda."

I deadpan then take a long, punctuated sip of my soda.

Alix is the first to move.

She grabs a wrench, why the hell is there a wrench? from a toolbox near the wall and levels it at me like she’s about to throw down with a goddamn magical sentimonster general.

“Back. Off.”

I don’t move. I don’t even flinch. I take another sip of the half-flat soda and hum with satisfaction, keeping eye contact.

“Cute,” I say, licking a drop of syrupy sugar off my lip. “You think that’s going to work. What’s the plan, hit me over the head and hope it triggers a redemption arc?”

Alya narrows her eyes, stepping beside Alix. “Why show yourself now, huh? What’s your angle?”

“Didn’t mean to.” I shrug lazily. “But you barged in here, and I’m not big on hospitality. Not when I’m working.”

I flip my fan shut with a clack.

They both flinch.

I stare and...

"BAHAH! What did you think im going to do something? Nah, im just here for the heroes." I continue laughing as I curl up a bit.

"You two thought I was serious? DUDE! Im Vainquill, Goofy basically my middle name!" I walk over and then shove them aside.

"Anyways move, you two are not worth it."

I walk into the next cart which is empty as I assume the heroes move the fighting near the front.

I follow the noises humming walking past a lot of unconscious people.

No golden tickets so I guess Ladybug snatched them up.

"Shit-" The train shakes some as I move to the next cart, the train begins to move again and it starts speeding up heavily, not a good sign.

I reach the final cart right as Chat Noir gets thrown through the door of the driving area. Ladybug jumps out holding a ton of golden tickets.

"You do realize you dont need to carry those around, right? Kinda dumb since well- You'll just miraculous ladybug everything back to normal." I say as the two heroes look towards me.

I do what any good villain would do... Kick Chat Noir in the face since he's laying down.

Chat Noir groans, rubbing his cheek where my boot just made friends with it.
“Was that-”

“Totally necessary,” I cut him off, stepping over him like he’s just a really inconvenient speed bump. “You were in my way. And also, your face looked like it needed a reality check.”

Ladybug plants her hands on her hips, glaring at me. “Vainquill. What are you even doing here?”

I gesture broadly to the train around us. “Oh, you know… sightseeing. Sampling the snacks. Harassing heroes. Typical Tuesday.”

“You’ve already caused enough trouble-” Ladybug starts, but I wave my fan at her.

“Oh please, this is barely a three on the Vainquill Scale of Shenanigans. I’ve got ideas that would blow your little polka-dots off, sweetheart.”

Conductor takes this time to come out of the front card, his lengthy frame stretching up and leaning down to not hit the roof, "TICKETS PLEASE?"

He says menacingly before lunging trying to rip a ticket out of Ladybug to knock her out.

Chat Noir uses this oppertunity to hop up and throws his baton at me that I just use my fan to block sending it back.

"Okay so were playing tennis now?" I ask before unclipping knives and beginning to throw them at Chat Noir.

I grin, Chat Noir and Ladybug are pressured, a train is a small space and Conductor is big af and I have range, so if she didnt use it yet, likely-

"LUCKY CHARM!"

"Fuck," I grumble a bit ready to escape already.

This may be a short fight but Lucky Charm means Ladybug always is about to win with whatever stupid object she gets.

Ladybug’s eyes flash, and she whirls, pulling out her Lucky Charm with a flourish.

The object?

A vintage conductor’s whistle.

I blink.

Really?

But no time to mock.

Ladybug blows the whistle, Suddenly the conductor stops.

"DUDE! CONTINUE FIGHTING!" I shout realizing what was happening, why the fuck did I make him based off a train conductor.

THIS IS THE SECOND TIME SHES TURNED MY OWN SENTIMONSTER AGAINST ME! FUCK YOU LADYBUG!

The Conductor turns moving to the front of the train to stop at the next stop, droping the ticket puncher.

GENUIENE DUMBASS!

I groan turning to start running as Chat Noir for once doesnt bother to chase me.

I slam doors as I move to the second last train compartment, Alya and Alix are likely in the back, so?

"Duusu, fold my plumes."

I turn back into regular Marilla... then faceplant onto the train floor to act like I was knocked out by the akumas ability like most of the class.

The ambient buzz in the carriage shifts, the Conductor’s hold is broken, his Sentimonster magic fading like expired milk.

Slowly, groans and murmurs bubble up all around me.

The class is waking up.

I hear Alya’s sharp voice cutting through the haze. “Guys, you okay?”

Alix’s footsteps echo as she rushes in, scanning the compartment. “Everyone’s stirring.”

I fake a sluggish blink and stretch my arms dramatically, “Ugh… What did I miss? Did someone throw a surprise party?”

Alya’s eyes land on me, her expression a mix of relief and suspicion. “Marilla? You’re awake!”

I force a yawn, voice thick with faux sleep. “Yeah, woke up from a nap… kinda felt like I got hit by a freight train, no idea why.”

Alix nudges me playfully. “Probably from all the drama. That Conductor thing was nuts.”

I smirk, letting a little edge slip. “Drama? Nah. Just the usual school field trip boredom cure.”

The rest of the class looks around dazed, some rubbing their heads, others blinking like newborns.

Chloe is still out cold somewhere, good.

I catch Alya’s glance lingering on me a moment longer, like she’s trying to read a secret in my eyes.

Too bad for her, I’m an open book with all the pages ripped out.

“Hey,” I say, standing up and dusting off my jacket. “Anyone seen a snack cart roll by? Because I am starving.”

Alix laughs, shaking her head. “Nope. But we’ve got the whole train now, so I vote we raid the cafeteria as soon as we get back.”

I nod, already plotting my own raid.

For now, I’m just Marilla, chill punk, best friends with Alix, and totally not the Peacock Miraculous-wielding troll villain Hawkmoth’s assistant.

Nobody’s the wiser.

Well, except for Duusu, happily munching almonds in my jacket.

And that’s just our little secret.

Chapter Text

Im so BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORED

Luckily after the whole lady wifi thingy, I got un-suspended.

But Damocles thought my behavior was 'disrespectful' so I have in-school suspension instead for the next two days.

"Here's your science work." The bald teacher just drops the papers onto my desk.

Mr. Harold, yes his name is as boring as it sounds.

This guy is genuienly the blankslate of a person, anyways he just goes back to his desk to do stuff on his computer as I fill out schoolwork bored.

Okay so far its been Stoneheart, Stormy Weather, Bubbler, Mr. Pigeon 1, Shrimperor and Lady Wifi.

I'm trying to remember which akuma is next, the main problem of being IN miraculous ladybug is the fucking timeline.

All I know is everything happends with-in the span of this school year. But I dont know the amount of days between each akuma attack.

UGH! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE A VILLAIN IF I DONT KNOW WHAT AKUMA IM GOING TO BE FIGHTING ALONGSIDE!

Duusu quietly peaks out of my jacket to look at the papers, "Work is terrible. Oh that'll make you smart! Actually no, its so sad." She says quietly as I glance up to make sure Harold didnt hear the kwami.

I keep my head down, pencil tapping against the worksheet like it’s Morse code for help me.

“Duusu, if you keep talking, Harold’s gonna hear and then I’ll have to fake a coughing fit or pretend I’m mumbling to myself like a crazy person,” I mutter under my breath.

She just shrugs, eyes glimmering mischievously. “He’s too busy staring at cat videos.”

I risk a glance at the teacher’s computer screen. Yup. A ginger tabby in a shark costume riding a Roomba. The man has zero shame.

I flip the paper over, but the questions are just… so… boring. Something about cell division. I’m a literal Miraculous wielder with the power to create nightmare beasts, and they expect me to care about mitosis.

My brain keeps wandering back to the akuma timeline. If I’m right, the next victim could be Rogercop… or maybe Copycat. Or, ugh, Guitar Villain. I’m already dreading the last one, because nothing says 'productive villain work' like babysitting Jagged Stone’s pet crocodile.

I glance at Duusu again. “You’re supposed to be the Miraculous of emotion or whatever. Got any feelings about which one’s next?”

She leans close, whispering like we’re plotting a heist. “I feel… bored. Also snacky. Also like we should skip the rest of this and go find Hawkmoth.”

I snort softly. “Right. Just waltz out of school in the middle of ISS. I’m sure Damocles would love that.”

Mr. Harold pauses and looks up as I adjust my jacket to hide Duusu, "You have a group particle physics presentation, your apparently grouped up with Juleka Couffaine and Rose Lavillant. You may go to discuse your presentation with them."

I nod and grab my backpack before leaving, time for what I consider my second job! Trying to get these two girls to stop being oblivious at there own feelings and get together.

Seriously, for the past two years, I've been desperately trying to get them together BUT BOTH DENY HAVING FEELINGS FOR THE OTHER WHEN ITS CLEAR THEY DO!

Juleka is a rambler but only is comfortable enough to ramble to Rose and me, Rose is sweet to everyone but mainly clings to Juleka who practically melts when it comes to rose.

I would think they have the most disasterous relationship if Marinette and Adrien didnt exist.

I sigh dramatically as I drag my backpack behind me, muttering, “Alright, Marilla. Second job of the day: shipper, counselor, emotional overlord.”

Duusu pops out of my jacket again, her tiny wings buzzing. “I love this part. Watching humans squirm and self-sabotage is funnier than cable TV.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah yeah, let’s just get them together before I start counting this as part of my villain quota.”

Juleka and Rose are huddled in the corner of the classroom, whispering and giggling like schoolgirls in a rom-com.

"Sup Juleka, sup rose." I walk over and sit beside them, taking out a notebook.

"Alright so uh- what the fuck is the presentation supposed to be about because all I know is 'particle physics' and I have no idea what that means." I say honestly as Juleka just stays quiet and lets Rose do the explaining.

Rose’s eyes light up like I just handed her a treasure map. “Oh! It’s super fun! We’re supposed to explain particle collisions and, well, interactions between different particles!” She waves her hands like she’s conducting a tiny orchestra. “Basically, imagine tiny, invisible dancers bumping into each other and exchanging energy. It’s… kinda like chaos, but with rules!”

I blink. Chaos with rules? Huh. Somehow I like her description better than the textbook.

Juleka shifts a little beside her, barely visible behind her dark bangs, but there’s a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Y-yeah… like… particles… they… uh… they bounce and… um… transfer… energy,” she murmurs, almost shyly, but her words have this calm, understated charm that actually makes sense when Rose beams at her like she just delivered the most brilliant explanation in the universe.

I lean back, notebook in hand, and smirk. “So, basically, your presentation is like… a cute little chaos party with rules. Got it. So I dont know if the presentation needs a model or if its just a talk thing, if it needs a model I can build it all myself.”

And when I say I can build it, I mean I'll make a sentimonster to do it for me.

Rose’s eyes practically sparkle. “Ooooh! We could totally make a little visual demo for the class! Something hands-on and shiny so people don’t fall asleep halfway through.”

I nod like I’m already invested. “Shiny is good. Shiny keeps people from drooling into their desks.”

Juleka fiddles with her sleeves for a second before speaking up. “What about… like… two balls? On… swings? They… hit each other… and light up when they collide.” She glances at Rose like she’s checking if the idea’s dumb.

Rose immediately gasps like Juleka just discovered cold fusion. “That’s perfect! We could use glow paint or little LEDs inside the balls, and when they hit, boom! Instant energy transfer visual!”

I’m grinning because not only is it simple enough that I won’t have to put in real effort, but I can make a sentimonster knock this together in minutes when they’re not looking. “Sold. Two glowing chaos-balls of physics. Easy A.”

Rose starts sketching a doodle of the setup in her notebook, all hearts and stars around it. “We just need to figure out what to make the swings from. String? Fishing line?”

“Fishing line,” Juleka mumbles, “less… obvious… makes it look like they’re floating.”

“Ohhh, fancy,” I say, jotting fake notes while Duusu peeks out just long enough to give me a thumbs-up. “Now, where are we doing this build? Library?”

Rose brightens. “Yeah! They’ve got a craft station in the-”

“Nope.” I cut her off fast, leaning forward. “Absolutely not.”

Rose blinks. “Why not?”

I tilt my head toward the hallway. “Because the library smells like dusty socks and broken dreams. And also because the last time I went there, someone knocked over an entire bookshelf and I had to dig myself out like a hamster in a ball pit.”

Truth: I’m 99% sure Nathaniel’s about to get akumatized into Evillustrator today, and that fight? Happens in the library. Not dragging these two into the splash zone if I can help it.

Rose pouts a little, but Juleka gives the tiniest nod, like she’s secretly relieved to avoid a public space. “We… could just… build it at my place after school?”

Rose lights up like a Christmas tree. “Yesss! Then we can paint them and maybe have snacks!”

I stretch getting up.

"Ima head home, see you guys later." I wave off and head home.

I hum the deltarune prophecy song, Deltarune is goated.

I just walk across the street from the school and into the bakery, a few customers but not much.

"Hey Tom, mind if I use the kitchen for a sec to make some mozeralla sticks?" I ask putting my backpack behind the counter.

Tom looks up from wiping down the counter, giving me that big goofy grin of his. “Sure thing, kiddo. Just don’t burn the place down. Again.”

“That was one time,” I grumble, heading for the kitchen. “And the fire was tiny.”

“Tiny fires are still fires.” He follows me in anyway, big arms folded, clearly ready to 'supervise.'
Translation: steal some when I’m done.

The kitchen smells faintly of bread and sugar, the last batch of croissants still cooling on the rack. I grab the block of mozzarella from the fridge, none of that pre-shredded nonsense, and the panko breadcrumbs from the shelf. My hands move on autopilot; this is my comfort zone.

First step: slice the mozzarella into thick sticks. I hum the Deltarune prophecy tune under my breath. Next, I set up the three bowls: flour in one, beaten eggs in another, breadcrumbs in the last. A little paprika in the breadcrumbs for a kick, because why not?

I began rolling the first mozzarella stick in flour, dunking it in egg, then pressing it into the breadcrumbs until it’s fully coated. I double dip it back into the egg and breadcrumbs again for maximum crunch. I don’t do half measures.

Tom chuckles. “You and Marinette are so different. She’d be piping chocolate into pastries right now.”

“Yeah, and I’d be eating all her filling before it made it into the pastries,” I say, coating the last stick.

The oil in the fryer hisses as I lower the basket in, the smell instantly making my mouth water. They only need about two minutes until they’re golden brown perfection. Tom grabs a plate and some paper towels, setting them down like he’s not just waiting for his share.

When I finally pull them out, the cheese is already threatening to ooze out the ends. I toss them onto the plate, sprinkle a little salt, and slide it toward him, keeping most for myself because I’m not that generous.

He bites into one and lets out this exaggerated chef’s kiss. “Perfect, as always.”

“Duh,” I smirk, taking a bite of my own. The cheese stretches into a glorious string, and I feel like I’ve just ascended to a higher plane of existence.

Tom laughs. “One day, Marilla, you’re gonna own your own place. ‘Marilla’s Mozzarella,’ I can see it now.”

“Pfft,” I snort. “I’d never make it a job. I’d just eat all the profits.”

He shakes his head, still smiling like I just made his day, and for a second, it’s easy to forget all the chaos outside this bakery.

I head upstairs and go to my piano, what to play what to play...

I decide fuck it and I start playing megalovania on the electric piano.

Duusu snores gently in my jacket.

So, what sentimon-

Im cut off when I hear a noise and turn around to...

What the fuck-

My small window I climb through each night to get in and out as Vainquill is suddenly erased as Evillustrator steps inside after using his eraser tool on my WALL!

"Uh... okay, an akuma breaking into my room isn't a new experience... why are you here?" I ask slowly, confused and worried as isnt Evillustrator supposed to break into marinette's room? Did he mix up rooms?

"I wanted to see you," He says smiling as he sits on my bed.

...Why do I get a bad feeling.

"So... are you here to kidnap me? To attack or hurt me? Or..."

"No no, your Marilla, your beautiful and kind, why would I do that?"

Ew.

Oh god-

OH GOD INSTEAD OF CRUSHING ON MARINETTE HES CRUSHING ON ME?!?

I stare dumbfounded not sure how to respond.

"Thats... interesting." I say awkwardly, cause uh... I already have a crush, but I really dont know how he'll react if I say no to him.

Evillustrator suddenly draws a card on his tablet, "Its my birthday today so... want to come to my party? It'll be just us."

"Sure... I'll be there..." I force a smile as he leaves, well he draws me a new wall, then leaves.

...

WHAT THE FUCK!

OKAY-

OKAY DAMN NATHANIEL I KNOW BLUE HAIR IS YOUR TYPE BUT WHAT THE FUCK!

I groan, this is going to be a headache and a half.

I take out my phone and call Marinette whos likely in her room.

"Hey Marilla, what's up? How was In-School suspension?" She asked innocently.

"An akuma just broke into my room and I agreed to go on a date with him then he left." I deadpan before she can ask any more questions.

There was a Long, realy long, drawn out moment of silence.

Marinette was likely re-thinking her life choices like I was.

“…You… what?” Marinette finally says, her voice going from squeaky confusion to full-on “my twin is insane” mode.

“I said-” I flop back into my desk chair, spinning a full circle, “-an akuma broke into my room, flirted with me, and invited me to his solo birthday party. Also, I think he erased my wall’s structural integrity, so if I die in a building collapse, that’s on you.”

“Why… why did you say yes?” she demands.

“Because saying no to an emotionally unstable supervillain is how you get tied to train tracks, Marinette. I’ve seen enough cartoons to know how this works.”

There’s shuffling on her end, then a sigh. “Okay, first, don’t go. Second-”

“Oh, I’m going,” I interrupt. “Because if I don’t, he might try again, and the next time he’ll bring, I dunno, a giant robot llama or something.”

“...Why a llama?”

“Why not a llama?”

Duusu stirs in my jacket, yawns like she just woke up from a ten-hour nap, and mutters, “Mmmm, romantic tension… but also impending doom. I approve.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You approve of nothing that keeps me alive.”

“That’s not true,” Duusu says in a sing-song tone. “I like your jacket.”

I roll my eyes and notice Marinette hung up.

20$ shes calling chat noir to get him to guard me like she called him to protect her in the original episode.

Well fuck.

"Duusu, what am I supposed to do?" I lift the tiny kwami out of my jacket. "Im supposed to be vainquill, you know, villain working with each akuma fight? Wouldn't they think somethings up if im not there? AGH! IM SUPPOSED TO BE A VILLAIN WHY AM I SUDDENLY THE DAMSEL IN DISTRESS! THERE GOING TO KNOW SOMETHINGS UP IF 'vainquill' DOESNT SHOW UP BUT IF 'Marilla' doesnt show up, then Evillustrator gets pissy which can make him really violent and ANNOYING!"

I ramble complaining while Duusu just nods along as she hums.

Duusu floats in a lazy circle, her tail feathers brushing my cheek. “So… sounds like you need to be in two places at once. Which, lucky for you, is exactly the kind of overly dramatic problem I live for.”

I grimace, "I dont want to make another senti-clone of me again after..."

I turned back to the pencil. The Amok. It didn’t glow, didn’t hum with any kind of cosmic energy. It just was. Sitting there. Waiting. It could’ve been any old pencil. But it wasn’t. It was her soul. My soul? A soul. Sentimonster logic made zero sense.

“I’m not doing it because I don’t care about you,” I said carefully, still not picking it up again. “I’m doing it because-”

“-You have to,” she finished. “I know. And if our roles were reversed, you’d want me to do it too.”

I looked up. Her eyes were wet, but her hands were steady. She meant it.

“God, this is messed up.”

“Yup.”

"...After last time." I grimace as the memory ends, I guess when you know you made life its... weird when it fades.

I never make any of my sentimonsters fully sentient, I give them a single personality and gimmick and they run with it, Senti-Marilla had to fill in my place so I basically made her a full copy of me.

And getting rid of her was...

horrible.

I flop onto my bed, staring at the ceiling like maybe the plaster’s going to give me the answer to this very specific villain scheduling conflict. Spoiler: it doesn’t.

Duusu perches on my chest like a smug, feathery paperweight. “Make a new one,” she sing-songs.

I groan. “Yeah, because nothing says healthy coping like making another me. What’s the worst that could happen? Oh right, last time.”

My stomach twists. Last time wasn’t just bad, it was too real. I’d built her too perfectly. Same laugh. Same habits. Same everything. When I unmade her, it felt like taking a sledgehammer to my own reflection.

“I’m not making another copy of me,” I mutter. “But… maybe something similar."

Duusu tilts her head in thought.

I lean up and grin forming an idea, "A normal senti-monster, like regular. But I dont show up as vainquill along side it, I de-transform and come as Marilla and the Senti-monster attacks later after waiting. I can give it its own amok so the heroes can beat it like always."

I hum looking around my room deciding for something to turn into an Amok that im fine getting rid of.

I scan my shelves, eyes flicking past sketchbooks, random trinkets, and the tiny army of knickknacks Marinette keeps sneaking into my space to “brighten it up.” No way am I sacrificing my lucky lighter, and the signed Alix skateboarding poster is staying.

Then my gaze lands on a little ceramic raven figurine, black paint chipped on the wing from when I accidentally dropped it two years ago. Perfect.

I pick it up, running a thumb over the jagged paint edge. “Alright, little guy. You’re about to have the most exciting five minutes of your life.”

Duusu bobs in the air, eyes practically glittering. “Oooh, spooky bird! I like it.”

I hum seeing the sun set in the distance, Guess I have a date.

I take a moment to put into a black suit because like hell im going in a dress, fuck that.

"Duusu, Spread my Plumes!"

I transform into Vainquill and I sneak out of my house.

I begin heading towards the Seine only to notice someone who noticed me a from a nearby Rooftop starting to come at me.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.

I stop on a rooftop and turn as Ladybug lands glaring at me.

"Howdy Buggy! How's it hanging? Need something or can I leave." I ask jokingly hiding the raven figurine in one of my suit's jacket pockets.

"What are you doing here Vainquill?" Ladybug asked clearly ready to use her yo-yo.

"Nooooooooooooooooooooothing, just going on a stroll. You can use your miraculous to take strolls around town, why cant I?" I ask with a stupid grin.

Ladybug narrows her eyes, clearly not buying a word of it. “You don’t ‘stroll’ unless you’re scheming. So, what’s the scheme?”

I put a hand over my heart like she’s just mortally wounded me. “Wow, Buggy, you wound me. Maybe I just like fresh air. Maybe I’m out here contemplating the moon. Maybe-”

Her yo-yo clicks as she spins it tighter in her hand. “You’re stalling.”

Okay, yeah, she’s got me there, but I’m not about to admit that while I’ve got a soon-to-be-sentient ceramic bird in my pocket. I glance toward the Seine, so close, and back at her. “Or maybe I’m trying to avoid being harassed while minding my own business.”

“You don’t have ‘your own business,’” she shoots back. “Your business is chaos.”

I can’t help grinning at that one. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

She takes a step forward, and I take a careful one back. I’m not trying to fight right now, but if she corners me, I’ll have to improvise.

“Whatever you’re planning, drop it now,” she warns.

My fingers brush the figurine in my pocket, the chipped wing catching on my glove. If I let her get too close, she might notice I’m hiding something.

"Alright, if you say so." I walk to the edge of the roof, turn and give a salute before falling off. I use my glide ability to immediately turn into the nearby alley to try and juke Ladybug out.

Alright, so Evillustrator will be on his yacht, waiting for me probably.

I wait till I hear Ladybug whip off with her Yo-yo as I climb back onto the roof.

"Come on out, my phantom Blaidd!"

I reach into my knife fan to pull out a feather, I grip it tight as it turns blue before I put the crow figurine down and put the feather on it.

I watch as a gigantic bird forms, more like the light blue outline of a bird with a dark blue inside, kind of like a hologram ish? Eh, its solid so who cares. It opens its white glowing eyes and leans down and picks up its statue in one of your talons.

"Fly above the sky out of sight, come down and attack Ladybug and Chat Noir in 30 minutes." I order quickly so neither hero sees if there nearby.

Blaidd nods and flies upwards.

I grin and hop down turning back to normal.

"Alright, time to have a date with an akuma." I say non-chalantly as I hand an almond to Duusu for her to eat as she rests in my jacket pocket.

I go to the bridge of the Seine and wait for the Evilluster's yacht thing, I mean its a pretty basic yacht, just white and blue.

Did he draw it or steal it? I dont think its ever explained where he got it. I wait for a while before I spot it.

Evilluster pulls up in his overly pristine, suspiciously new yacht, waving like we’re childhood friends meeting at a summer camp instead of… whatever this is.

“Marilla!” he calls, beaming, like he didn’t just erase part of my bedroom wall earlier.

I wave back, plastering on a smile that feels like it’s about to crack in half. “Nice boat. Draw it yourself?”

“Of course!” He says it proudly, like “I can manifest vehicles out of thin air” is a normal brag. “It’s… all for you.”

Oh boy. My skin does that uncomfortable crawl thing it does when someone says 'for you' with too much enthusiasm.

I step aboard, careful not to trip, because the last thing I need is to fall into the Seine and have Evilluster fish me out like some lovesick fisherman in a romantic comedy gone wrong. He offers his hand anyway. I take it, because falling into the Seine is worse.

The deck is covered in what can only be described as 'Pinterest vomit,' fairy lights, a small bistro table set for two, and what I think is supposed to be a chocolate fountain but looks dangerously like molten printer ink.

“You… went all out,” I say, sliding into one of the chairs.

“You’re worth it,” he says without hesitation, and wow, I’m starting to think he’s actually worse than the original timeline’s crush-on-Marinette version. At least then he had the decency to be awkward.

I look at the table and grin at the food on it, MOZERELLA STICKS!

Okay this fake date thing might be worth it after-all.

I spot in the distance Ladybug and Chat Noir not so subtly following the boat across the houseline as it starts slowly going down the stream.

I sit on the bench as Evilluster sits beside me and begins playing music by drawing notes that fly up and pop a moment later.

Me? Im stuffing my face with food.

I grab a mozzarella stick and take a huge bite, savoring the cheese stretch like it’s therapy in stick form. Duusu hums in my jacket, tiny wings fluttering with approval. “This is… surprisingly satisfying,” she murmurs, nibbling an almond.

Evillustrator looks at me with a wide smile, drawing whimsical, floating shapes in the air. “Do you like the music?” he asks, clearly proud. Notes float and pop around us, turning the yacht into a miniature concert hall.

I shrug, chewing. “Yeah… it’s… cute, I guess. You’re really into this ‘birthday party on a yacht’ thing, huh?”

He laughs. “I wanted it to be special for you!” His eyes sparkle like he actually believes it. Oh god. This is so much worse than the Marinette version. He’s… confident about his affection.

I take another stick, holding it up dramatically. “Okay, serious question: do you draw all your parties? Or is this a first-time Marilla special?”

“First-time special!” he beams. “But don’t worry, I have plenty more ideas for you in the future.”

I nearly choke on my mozzarella stick. “Future? Oh, buddy… you don’t even know…”

Duusu snorts, clearly enjoying my silent panic. “Ah, romantic tension… chaotic energy… delicious cheese. Everything’s coming together.”

I ignore her, glancing toward the distant rooftop line. Ladybug and Chat Noir are still trailing, probably waiting for the perfect moment to intervene. Perfect. This is exactly the scenario I wanted, just enough chaos to stay 'normal' Vainquill while letting the fake sentimonster handle the heroes later.

I plop back in the chair, leaning on the table, mozzarella stick dangling. “So… you’re telling me you can just… draw music and boats and lights, and they all work?” I ask, honestly impressed despite myself.

He nods. “It’s a gift. And now, it’s all yours to enjoy.”

I take another bite, eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah… just so long as enjoying it doesn’t end with me being akumatized or tied to a floating printer ink fountain.”

He laughs, reaching for his tablet to draw another floating snack, a tiny chocolate éclair this time. Duusu flutters in my jacket, clearly thrilled at the show of magical culinary chaos.

I sigh, thinking about Blaidd already circling high above, and the inevitable fight that’s going to start while I’m stuck on this accidental birthday date.

"So... kinda quiet, is there a reason you only asked for me to come to your party?" I decide to stop beating around the bush to get this awkward situation over with.

Evillustrator pauses mid-doodle, the floating drawing frozen in midair as he looks at me with a tilt of his head. “Because… I wanted it to be you, Marilla,” he says softly, almost shyly. “I… I like you. More than anyone else.”

I nearly choke on my mozzarella stick. “Uh… oh! That’s… uh, wow.” I cough a little, waving my hands awkwardly. “I… that’s  flattering? Really, really flattering. But…” I trail off, trying to formulate an escape plan while chewing. “…I can’t… like, feel that way about you.”

His pencil hand freezes in the air, eyes blinking. “You… don’t? But why? Is it something I can fix?”

I nervously fiddle with the edge of my jacket, Duusu fluttering anxiously in my pocket. “Uh… no, it’s not you. You’re… fine. Perfectly fine. It’s… me. I just can’t feel that way. About you.”

He blinks, then frowns slightly. “But… I drew this for you. I made all of this… just for you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

I force a small smile, trying to deflect the growing tension. “It means… you’re creative. Super creative. And the party? Insane. But… feelings? Yeah… can’t give those. Sorry.”

He bites his lip, frowning harder now. “So… nothing I do can make you… like me? I could try, change, or… I don’t know, draw more, do more?”

I groan softly, wishing for any excuse to escape this mess. “Ehh no, I… you can’t really ‘change’ feelings. It’s… complicated. And… it’s not fair to you to try.”

His grip on the tablet tightens slightly, a faint storm brewing in his glowing blue eyes. “Not fair? You mean… you’re saying… it’s my fault you don’t love me?”

“Uh… no!” I wave my hands frantically, feeling awkward. “Not at all! You’re great! Seriously! But… just… feelings don’t line up, y’know?

His face hardens, jaw tightening. “Why… why can’t you?!”

I take a deep brerath then deadpan at him, "I'm gay."

I can vaguely hear Ladybug gasp in the distance, oh boy knowing Marinette shes going to try to have a 'Im your sister and accept you' talk while trying to explain how she knows im gay without admitting she was ladybug.

"Lesbian, into girls, whole thing." I shrug eating another mozerella bite.

I kinda wait awkwardly as I dont know if him being Evillustrator will make him get pissed and act like a 'nice guy' or just accept it.

Evillustrator blinks, the faint glow of his tablet reflecting in his wide eyes. For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then he sighs, almost like he’s deflating.

“…Oh,” he mutters, voice barely above a whisper. His pencil hand trembles slightly, and the floating chocolate éclair fizzles midair. “I… I wasn’t thinking. I… I guess I fell for someone I… can’t?”

I blink at him, silently giving him space, awkwardly chewing another mozzarella stick. Duusu peeks out, muttering in a tiny, judgmental hum, “Ooooh, messy emotions.”

Evillustrator runs a hand down his face. “I… I should’ve known better. I made a mistake, Marilla. I… I’m sorry for putting you in this position.” His voice is almost painfully sincere, heavy with a mix of embarrassment and self-directed frustration.

I swallow, trying not to smile at how dramatically cute he’s being about failing at romance. “It’s fine. Really. Just maybe stick to drawing parties and akumas, yeah?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah… that… that works.” Then he straightens, blue glow returning faintly to his tablet. “I… have… other things to do. Big plans. Important goals. LIKE DESTROYING CHLOE!”

I nod, "Makes sense, chloe is terrible."

Before he can do anything, a familiar clack echoes as Chat Noir’s staff smacks the side of the tablet out of his hands. Sparks fly, and Evillustrator yelps.

“What the?!” he shouts, spinning toward the noise.

“Not today,” Chat Noir says, landing gracefully behind him. “Sorry to crash the date, but cant have you attacking civilians.”

I don’t get a chance to react before Ladybug whirls in, yo-yo wrapping around me with practiced precision. I’m lifted off the deck, spinning midair, and she sets me safely on a nearby rooftop.

“Marilla!” she calls, stern and relieved. “Stay put!”

I wave one hand, still holding my half-eaten mozzarella stick. “Yeah… yeah, thanks."

I sigh and sit on the rooftop... time to...

wait this...

ugh...

I lean forward and put my hand on my head.

Everything seemed to blur as my chest hurt...

I lean forward clenching my chest as Duusu flies out of my jacket looking scared.

I can vaguely see the fighting in the distance.

But why cant I hear?

Whats... why is my heartbeat so loud.

My fingers dig into the fabric of my jacket like that’s going to hold me together somehow. The cold night air feels thick, like it’s pressing against my ribs. My ears are ringing, but under it...

thump. Thump. Thump.

My heartbeat is like someone’s slamming a drum inside my chest.

Duusu’s tiny hands grip my sleeve, her feathery tail twitching like a cornered animal.
“Marilla! Hey- hey, focus on me!” Her voice cracks between frantic and furious. “This isn’t the time for your body to start quitting on me, you hear?!”

I blink at her, my breath shallow. The edges of my vision curl in like burnt paper, and all I can think is oh great, I’m dying in the middle of Paris while holding a mozzarella stick.

“Duusu, I-” My voice sounds far away.

“It’s the Miraculous,” she snaps, darting in close enough to press her forehead to mine. “You’ve been overusing it without letting me stabilize the magic. It’s cracked, remember? We’re working with duct tape and prayers here!”

I try to laugh, but it comes out a shaky wheeze. “Yeah, well… I don’t exactly get to take sick days when Hawky needs something blown up.”

Her eyes flash with something sharp, fear, maybe anger. “If you keep pushing, it won’t be Hawkmoth that kills you.”

That… sobers me a little.

I glance toward the battle below, flashes of light, the distant sound of Evillustrator’s cards clashing against Ladybug’s yo-yo. I can’t hear their words anymore, but my gut knows they’re shouting.

Duusu’s wings flutter anxiously. "You should de-summon Blaidd, it might help you some-"

A spike of pain lances through my chest, and I grit my teeth. My hand trembles around the mozzarella stick, and it drops, cheese stretching in a pathetic strand before snapping.

"Its fine, we need to just... go with the plans... I just need to rest." I groan and lay on my back.

I hear a distant screech as I turn my head and the giant bird form of Blaidd swoops down and its wings double in size before flapping them, blowing Chat Noir, Ladybug and Evillustrator off the ship.

I snort finding the scene hilarious as Ladybug catches herself on a tree to whip to it with her yo-yo, evilluster draws a small plane to stand on but Chat Noir falls into the seine.

Chat Noir is just climbing out of the river, hair plastered to his head, dripping like a very annoyed cat. “Great,” I can almost hear him mutter. “I smell like river sushi.”

Blaidd roars, a deep, thunderous sound, and beats his wings again, sending another torrent of wind barreling toward the heroes. Ladybug braces herself with her yo-yo anchored around a lamppost, while Chat Noir digs his staff into the cobblestones, leaning into the gale.

Then Ladybug leaps back, shouting something I can’t hear, but I know that move anywhere-

“LUCKY CHARM!”

A flash of light in her hands, and when it clears… she’s holding… a roll of duct tape.

Even from here, I blink. “…Really? You’re fighting a giant murder-bird and a magic artist, and you get duct tape?”

Duusu side-eyes me. “Don’t underestimate her. That girl could probably take down an army with a rubber band and a breadstick.”

Down below, Chat Noir finally catches up, spinning his staff in a flourish. His eyes flick toward Blaidd, narrowing. “Bug, look at his talon! One’s closed, he’s holding something!”

Ladybug whips her gaze up, spotting it too, the tight curl of Blaidd’s massive right foot, something glinting between his claws. Even from here, I know exactly what it is.

The amok.

Her plan’s already in motion, she’s darting between Evillustrator’s glowing constructs, yo-yo snapping out to snag one of his shields and fling it towards Blaidd.

Ladybug jumps to try and land on Blaidd.

I grin seeing what was about to happen.

Blaidd let out a loud caw and swooped forward to avoid the two attacks... and slamming straight into Evillustrator who was knocked into the water.

Ladybug swung her yo-yo and latched onto Blaidd's leg as it flew to the sky.

"GET THE PEN! DONT BREAK IT YET!" Ladybug shouted down to Chat-Noir as she started getting dragged into the sky, she started climbing up her Yo-yo string to get to the closed leg.

Ladybug hauls herself up the yo-yo line, duct tape clamped between her teeth. Blaidd thrashes midair, wings beating hard enough to buffet nearby rooftops. The moment she’s close enough, she whips the tape around his legs, yanking it tight with a sharp flick.

Blaidd lets out a furious caw, his massive body jerking as he tries to rip the tape apart mid-flight. His wings beat erratically, sending him spiraling in wide arcs over the Seine.

“Whoa, easy there, big guy!” Ladybug mutters under her breath, bracing herself as Blaidd’s violent twists almost fling her loose.

She plants her feet against the bird’s leg, yo-yo wrapping around the taped ankles, anchoring her in place. “Alright, time to end this!”

With a quick breath, she lets go. Ladybug drops fast, her yo-yo still tethered to Blaidd’s bound legs. She swings under him in a massive arc, using the momentum to launch herself upward in a deep swing. Her feet smash into Blaidd’s beak with a solid THUNK.

The giant bird screeches in pain, head snapping back. The talons on his bound legs spasm, and the small, gleaming raven statue slips free, tumbling toward the river below.

Ladybug’s eyes lock on it instantly. “Gotcha!”

She releases her yo-yo from Blaidd’s legs, diving after the falling amok. The duct tape binding his legs snaps under the strain, sending Blaidd careening away into the night sky, limping but free of the trap.

Ladybug snatches the raven statue mid-drop, tucking it against her chest just as she cannonballs into the Seine with a huge splash.

From the embankment, Chat Noir is already wading into the shallows, drenched from his earlier swim. He grabs Ladybug by the arm, hauling her out of the water.

“You know,” he pants, “next time you take a dive, maybe tell me before you go full penguin.”

Ladybug shakes water from her hair, eyes immediately dropping to the statue in her hands. Evillustrator is sprawled on the ground nearby, out cold from his unplanned swim and collision with Blaidd.

But the statue…

She turns it over in her hands, brows furrowing. The shape, the design, smooth black wings folding in, the slight curve of its beak. It’s not just any raven.

“I’ve seen this before…” she murmurs under her breath, though she can’t place it. Something about it sends a ripple of unease down her spine.

Chat tilts his head at her. “You okay, My lady?”

She doesn’t answer right away, still staring at the tiny raven like it’s holding a secret she should already know.

She shook her head, "Its nothing."

She broke the statue as the feather flew out as Blaidd disintegrated in the distance.

She took the pen from Chat Noir and broke it as she smiled taking out her Yo-yo.

"No more evil doing for you little akuma," She swung the yo-yo as it captured the Black butterfly as she spun a bit. "TIME TO DE-EVILIZE!"

She took the yo-yo and released it watching the purified butterfly fly off as Evillustrator turned into Nathaniel.

"MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!"

She threw the Ductape into the air as it bursts into the familiar wave of ladybugs to restore all the damage.

"So this is nice and all, but uh- what about the civilian from earlier?" Chat noir asked as Ladybug paused, SHE COMPLETELY FORGOT SHE LEFT MARILLA ON A ROOFTOP!

Meanwhile, Im still laying on the random Rooftop, bored out of my mind.

I see the pink wave fly overhead meaning Evillustrator was beaten, neat.

I stay sprawled out on the rooftop, one leg bent, the other dangling lazily over the edge, just watching the clouds roll by. Honestly, this wasn’t the worst place to be stuck, but still… I’d been here long enough to start memorizing the shape of the shingles.

A flicker of movement catches my eye, and before I can even sit up, a familiar shadow sweeps over me.

“Well, well,” Chat Noir lands with the kind of casual grace that makes it look like gravity doesn’t apply to him. “Still enjoying the view, Blueberry?”

I blink at him. “…That’s not a nickname I ever asked for.”

He chuckles, tail swishing behind him. “Ladybug had to run, something about a timer, you know how it is. Figured I’d be the gentleman and make sure you get back to solid ground before a breeze blows you off this roof.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You think I’m light enough for a breeze to just, whoosh, carry me off?” I wave my hands dramatically.

He smirks. “Not saying you’re light, just saying you’re… portable.”

“Wow. Flattery. Truly.”

He crouches, holding out an arm. “Come on, Blueberry. Home delivery service. No charge, though tips are appreciated.”

I groan, but honestly? My legs are a little jelly from being up here so long, and the idea of climbing down myself sounds like a nightmare. I step over, and he scoops me up bridal-style before I can even protest.

“You really do this a lot, don’t you?” I ask as we leap to the next building, the wind whipping at my face.

“Part of the job. Sometimes it’s kittens out of trees. Sometimes it’s people stranded on rooftops.” He glances at me with a teasing grin. “You fall into the latter category.”

“Correction,” I say, holding on a bit tighter as he makes a particularly long jump, “I was placed on a rooftop. Totally different.”

“Still counts.”

We’re halfway across the city now, rooftops blurring under us, and I notice he’s not in any rush, he’s taking a looping path, hopping across lower buildings, even pausing once to balance perfectly on the edge of a chimney like it’s no big deal.

“Do you always show off this much?” I ask.

“Always,” he says without hesitation.

I roll my eyes but can’t help a small smile.

Before long, the familiar smell of the bakery drifts up from below. He lands lightly in the alley beside it and sets me down, letting go with a little flourish like he’s just completed a magic trick.

“Safe and sound,” he says, giving a mock bow. “Try to stay off rooftops unless accompanied by a professional next time, yeah?”

I cross my arms. “Noted. Thanks.”

He gives me one last grin before vaulting away, tail flicking as he disappears over the rooftops.

I shake my head, still a little windblown, and head inside the bakery.

I take one step inside only to be tackled by Marinette

"OHMYGODAREYOUOKAYISAWYOURDATEWITHTHEAKUMADIDHEHURTYOUATALL?AREYOUFINE?DIDCHATNOIRDOANYTHINGTOYOUWHILEBRINGINGYOUBACKIUHSAWHIMCARRYYOUHERE!" Marinette rambled at 300 words a second making me do a slow blink.

The Headache from my Broken Miraculous Disease swings back in full.

"No no, im fine, I just want to go to bed." I say forcing myself to smile feeling my eyebags get twice as dark.

Marinette’s eyes narrow, like she can see straight through the lie I’m trying to pass off as a smile.

“Marilla…” she starts, that big-sister-but-also-worried-mom tone kicking in.

I cut her off, already stepping toward the stairs. “Seriously, Mari. I’m fine. No akuma scratches, no rooftop drama. Just tired.”

“You were part of an akuma attack-” she tries again, following me, but I throw her a lazy wave over my shoulder.

“Yeah, but I didn’t start it. And now I’m ending it, by going to sleep.”

The smell of fresh bread and sugar still lingers in the air, warm and safe, but my chest still aches under my jacket, that same dull throb from earlier. Every step up the stairs feels like dragging my legs through syrup.

Halfway to my room, Duusu peeks her tiny head out of my pocket, her expression scrunched into something between annoyance and worry.

“You look fine to your sister,” she mutters low enough that Marinette can’t hear, “You should go rest.”

I shove the door to my room open, closing it behind me before Marinette can push in too. My bed looks like the most inviting thing in the entire universe.

“I already plan to, so ima nap and feel better in the morning and not think about the fact my lifespan is shortening quickly.” I tell Duusu, kicking off my boots and flopping face-first onto the mattress.

Duusu huffs, fluttering over to land beside my head. “You shouldn't use my miraculous too much, you may have magic in you but if you keep abusing it, you'll burn out."

I groan into the pillow. “Probably.”

I dont bother to get out oy my clothes as I pull my covers on, Duusu nuzzles the side of my cheek before sliding in the covers beside me.

"Goodnight Marilla."

"Goodnight Duusu."

Chapter Text

"You heroes... Why do you keep STOPPING ME FROM MY SHOW!" The latest akuma, The Magician of Misfortune, swung his staff again and a massive curtain fell over nearby buildings before raising with the buildings vanishing.

Honestly? Im having a break day. Im just sitting on a bench in the nearby park eating mozerella sticks watching Ladybug and Chat Noir dodging curtains.

"JUST MAKE A GIANT CURTAIN TO FALL ON THEM BOTH!" I shout at the akuma, doing my job of helping them while still being as lazy as normal.

The Magician of Misfortune froze mid-swing, staff hovering in the air, his eyes going wide behind the ridiculous stage makeup plastered on his face.

“…That’s… actually a good idea,” he muttered, blinking.

Ladybug’s head whipped around, glaring at me from across the plaza. “STOP HELPING THE AKUMA, VAINQUILL!” she shouted, flipping out of the way of another sweeping curtain.

I raised my mozzarella stick like a toast. “Helping the akuma is literally my job,” I take another bite. “Its what I get paid to do, I'm the bad guy remember?”

Chat Noir landed nearby, baton spinning defensively, glaring daggers. “A villain giving advice to a villain, nothing new there.”

“Oh, hush, Chaton Noir.” I waved him off with a greasy hand. “You’re just jealous because I’m multitasking. Fighting and eating. A lost art form.”

The Magician, looking oddly inspired, slammed his staff down. A colossal velvet curtain appeared high above, blocking out the sky like someone had just decided Paris needed theater lighting.

Ladybug gasped. “He’s going to-”

“DROP THE CURTAIN!” I hollered again, nearly choking on cheese.

With a roar, the curtain came down, wide enough to swallow up everything in the park. People screamed, scattering like ants. I just crossed my legs on the bench, licking crumbs off my fingers.

"CATACLYSM!"

Chat Noir ran up the eifle tower and jumped to disintegrate the curtain before an entire section of paris could disappear.

The second Chat Noir’s Cataclysm touches the fabric, the giant curtain sizzles away into nothing, dissipating in black flakes that scatter through the wind. The Eiffel Tower stands tall and unmarred, Paris intact.

The crowd cheers, but I just bite down on another mozzarella stick, tail feathers flicking lazily.

“Ten outta ten dismount, Chaton Noir!” I call up to him, mouth still half-full. “You should add that to your circus act résumé.”

Ladybug doesn’t waste time glaring, she’s already sprinting across the plaza, yo-yo whipping out to snag the Magician’s staff. He yanks it back before she can grab it, but the tug jerks him off balance.

I sigh dramatically, dragging myself upright on the bench. “Honestly, you two don’t deserve my expert commentary service. You keep ignoring the golden advice.”

“Your golden advice nearly flattened half the city!” Ladybug snaps, vaulting over another curtain as it slams down across the street. “Why are you even here if you’re not going to fight?”

“Because mozzarella sticks taste better outdoors, obviously,” I say, conjuring my fan with a flick of my wrist. The peacock feathered steel gleams in the sunlight, but I only use it to fan myself. “Do you have any idea how boring it is in Hawk Daddy’s lair when nothing’s going on? This is my break.”

Chat Noir lands nearby, dripping sarcasm. “Oh, great. Our villain has a union break.”

I lean back, smirking. “Damn right. Contract says I get mozzarella time.”

The Magician of Misfortune suddenly slams his staff down again, creating three curtains at once, all whipping toward different directions, one aiming for Ladybug, one for Chat Noir, and one for, well… me.

"DUDE! FRIENDLY FIRE!" I roll out of the way as I spot Ladybug's yo-yo snatch the staff away.

I turn to run as it decides NOW to start to rain, might aswell try to get home quick before Ladybug uses her miraculous Ladybug then the heroes start chasing me.

The rain comes down in fat, heavy drops that soak straight through my jacket in seconds. My mozzarella sticks are officially ruined, soggy lumps of cheese bread clinging to the paper bag. Tragedy. Actual war crime.

“Ughhh, Paris weather is as bipolar as Duusu,” I mutter, sprinting down the slick pavement. My sneakers skid once, nearly sending me sprawling, but I catch myself on a lamppost. Behind me, I hear the yo-yo’s distinct whip-crack echoing through the storm.

“They’re already chasing,” Duusu hisses from my jacket pocket, feathers puffed in agitation. “You know they’re not going to let you just stroll home, right?!”

“I was hoping the rain would guilt them into leaving me alone,” I grumble, ducking into a side street. A car honks as I dart across, nearly slipping again. My lungs are burning, that too-familiar ache clawing at my chest. “Stupid broken miraculous body…”

A flash of red arcs overhead, Ladybug swinging down the boulevard, eyes sharp and locked on me. Chat Noir vaults after, his baton extending to bridge between rooftops.

“Vainquill!” Ladybug’s voice cuts through the rain. “Stop running!”

I throw my hands up, exasperated. “Why would I ever stop running? You’re literally the cops in spandex!”

Chat’s boots splash against the cobblestones as he lands just ahead of me, blocking the alley. He’s dripping wet, his hair plastered to his forehead, but the grin’s still there. “Going somewhere, Blueberry?”

I skid to a halt, panting, clutching my ribs. My fan flicks open in my hand, feathers glistening with raindrops. “Yeah, home. You know, hot chocolate, dry socks, maybe a nap. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Ladybug lands behind me, yo-yo spinning like a leash about to snap tight. “You don’t get to just walk away, not after helping an akuma!”

I point at her, half bent over from the ache in my chest. “Correction. I helped you too. Technically. If it weren’t for me, Magician Boy wouldn’t have wasted his big move so soon.”

She blinks, clearly debating whether or not to admit I have a point. Chat Noir leans casually on his baton, smirking. “Wow. So generous. Should we send you a thank-you card?”

“Blue glitter, please,” I wheeze.

"HEY LOOK! HAWKMOTH!" I point left and the two actually turn like idiots, I jump across a nearby street onto another Rooftop and continue running.

I dont hear them chasing so I think Im fine, I practically feet first, slide through my open window.

"Duusu, fold my plumes."

I transform back to regular ol' Marilla.

"So me being in the rain wont make you sick, right? I know Kwami can get sick but not sure about you, due to the whole broken mircaculous thing." I ask Duusu as she phases into her room aka a drawer in my desk that I put small things to act like a room for her when shes not with me, its locked and full of Almonds for her.

I flop down onto my bed, "An hour before school starts... fuuuuuun." I groan, taking out my phone and decide to be annoying.

ImTheBirdy: Hawkmoth
ImTheBirdy: Boss
ImTheBirdy: Boss
ImTheBirdy: Boss
Hawkmoth: What? I'm busy planning a new design, what do you want?

I grin, flopping sideways on my bed, still dripping wet and soaking my blanket. “New design” probably means he’s standing in front of his wall of butterflies dramatically posing again.

ImTheBirdy: 👀 what kind of design we talking? Curtains?
ImTheBirdy: oh wait no, your last akuma already tried that one 😂

There’s a long pause.

Hawkmoth: Despite entrusting you with the Peacock Miraculous, you have been absolutely no help in my efforts to claim the Ladybug or Cat Miraculous.
Hawkmoth: NONE.

I snort so loud Duusu peeks her head out of her drawer, almonds stuck to her feathers. “Ohhh, he’s mad~” she sing-songs before vanishing again with a cackle.

ImTheBirdy: Wow, harsh.
ImTheBirdy: Excuse me for not kidnapping two parkour superheroes between algebra and lunch break.
ImTheBirdy: Did you want me to just drag Chat Noir in by his stupid tail like a wet cat????

Hawkmoth: If you’re not going to take this seriously, then why should I keep wasting-

ImTheBirdy: Bro you literally just akumatized a magician with daddy issues who used curtains as weapons.
ImTheBirdy: AND THEN I gave him good advice. For free.
ImTheBirdy: You should be thanking me.

Another pause. Longer this time. Then I pause at what he sends next.

Hawkmoth: Your twin, Marinette was it? She has a lot of frustration in her... she would make a good Akuma, wouldn't you agree?

My phone nearly slips out of my wet hands when I read that last line.

Oh no.
Oh no.

I sit up straight in bed, blanket dripping onto the floor, chest pounding, not the broken Miraculous ache this time, but full-blown panic.

ImTheBirdy: 🖕 NO.
ImTheBirdy: Don’t.
ImTheBirdy: Don’t you DARE touch her.

Duusu’s drawer creaks open, her tiny face peeking out, eyes narrowed. “What did he say?”

I shove the phone toward her, like she can read the text herself. Her feathers bristle immediately. “That bastard. He wouldn’t-”

“He would,” I cut in, already typing furiously. “He absolutely would. He’s been whining about me not helping him enough, and now he thinks he can use her?” My stomach twists, sick and heavy.

ImTheBirdy: Try her and I swear, I’ll personally shove your butterflies back down your stupid mask.

The typing bubble pops up, then disappears. Then comes back. Then disappears again. He’s taking his sweet time, the smug bastard.

Hawkmoth: Then prove your loyalty. The next Akuma I send out, you will assist. Not eat cheese, not lounge around, not make jokes. Assist. Prove you’re not just dead weight. Or I may… reconsider my target.

I grip my phone so hard the case creaks. “He’s blackmailing me. With Marinette.”

I could just stop helping him, I could go tell the heroes everything, if Marinette gets akumatized, no ladybug and no ladybug means shit gets real.

The problem is I LIKE being a villain. I like being chaotic without having to be serious.

The phone screen dims in my palm, but I’m still staring at the last message like if I glare hard enough, I can burn the words right off the screen. My head’s pounding, feathers itching under my skin like they always do when the Miraculous disease flares up, but this isn’t that, it’s just pure, raw dread.

I flop back on the bed, groaning into my pillow. “Why can’t life ever let me vibe?”

Duusu flutters out of her drawer, almond shell still stuck to her wing like some tragic accessory. “Because you’ve allied yourself with a melodramatic man in purple spandex who lives to monologue.”

I peek at her from the corner of my eye. “…You mean Bad-Dadmoth?”

“Don’t call him that,” Duusu snaps, though she’s clearly fighting a smile. “This is serious, Marilla. He’s escalating. He knows your weak spots.”

I shove the phone under my blanket like hiding it might make the threat disappear. “Yeah, well, newsflash: I am weak. Physically, at least. Mentally? Totally thriving. But if he lays even one butterfly wing on Marinette…” I trail off, clenching the blanket. “No. Not happening.”

The room feels too small, too humid from the rain dripping off me, too full of my own panic. I swing my legs off the bed and start pacing, wet socks squelching on the floor. “Okay. Okay okay okay. If I just… play along a little, keep up the act, he leaves her alone. Easy. I can… sabotage from the inside. I already do that, kinda.”

Duusu hovers near my shoulder, her tiny face creased with worry. “You’re walking a very fine line. Help too much and you’ll actually tip the scales against Ladybug. Help too little, and Hawkmoth will notice. One wrong move…”

I grimace. “Boom. Butterfly girl Marinette.”

My phone buzzes again. I snatch it up like it might explode.

Hawkmoth: I will be watching closely. Do not disappoint me again.

I chuck the phone across the room, it bounces harmlessly on the rug, because even my rage is lazy. “Ughhhhhh, I hate him! He’s like a group project leader who doesn’t do any of the work but yells at you for not formatting the PowerPoint.”

Duusu pats my cheek with one tiny feather, oddly gentle. “At least you’re the funny one.”

I snort, flopping back dramatically onto the bed. “Yay. I’ll be the court jester at the end of the world.”

But even as I joke, my chest feels heavy. My world, Marinette, Tom, Sabine, my stupid mozzarella sticks, that’s all stuff Hawkmoth could ruin in a heartbeat. And now, I’ve got no choice but to dance to his tune, at least for now.

“Fine,” I mutter, staring at the ceiling. "I only have to be serious for one akuma, Next Akuma I think is Princess Fragrence later today? That should be fine."

"Ive been meaning to ask, how do you always know akuma's names and powers before we meet them?" Duusu asked tilting her head.

"Dont worry about it."

I really dont want to explain to a bi-polar peacock god that there a fictional character from a show I watched then got shoved into.

I pause, "Hey do any of the kwamis have any relationships? Like dating or married- whatever the kwami equivalent to either is." I ask honestly curious and bored. 

Duusu flutters out of her little drawer, stretching her tiny wings and giving a dramatic shake of her feathery tail. “Oooh… you’re curious about kwami romance?” she sings, her voice bouncing between a coo and a tiny screech of excitement.

I groan. “Yeah… I mean, I’m bored, don’t judge me. How do they even- wait, you can talk about that stuff? No, 'magic prevents me.'”

Duusu tilts her head, eyes narrowing into glittering crescent moons. “Ohhhhhh, do I ever!” She flutters closer, landing delicately on my shoulder, feathers brushing my wet hair. “Listen, Marilla… some of these little beans are… so adorable it physically hurts.”

I already feel a headache coming on. “Uh… this seems like a bad idea, I regret asking.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Duusu insists, waving her tiny arms as if conducting an invisible orchestra. “You don’t understand. I’m talking full-on, stars-in-the-eyes, heartbeat-flip-flop lovey-dovey kwami romance. The pinnacle. The apex. The literal embodiment of, of-” she pauses dramatically, “mate energy!”

I raise an eyebrow, staring at her in equal parts awe and terror. “You’re… really hyped about this.”

Duusu bobs up and down, feathers puffing. “Of course I am! I live for it. Let me tell you about my mate, Nooroo, the shy and innocent kwami of Transmission.”

My brain, soaked in mozzarella and rain, stutters. “Wait… your mate? You have a mate?”

“Yes!” Duusu chirps, voice rising an octave, feathers quivering like tiny violins. “He’s… he’s… so shy, Marilla. Like, you have to practically hold his hands to get him to blink at you! And every time I coo at him? His antennae wiggle. His little shimmer… Oh! You have no idea, it’s magical!”

I groan and bury my face in a pillow. “I think I’m going to regret everything about this conversation.”

Duusu doesn’t even slow down. “Nooroo! My sweet, gentle Nooroo! He’s… he’s the kwami of Transmission, right? And I, well, I’m the kwami of Emotion. So it’s perfect! Perfect! We’re… intrinsically linked. Emotions can be felt but you dont get empathy or love without the TRANSMISSION of emotions!”

I peek one eye out from under the pillow. “…Wait, are you saying you two… like… mate in the literal… magical sense?”

Duusu flutters her wings and does a dramatic twirl midair. “YES! We are connected on a fundamental level. Every time I feel a ripple of excitement, Nooroo senses it. Every time he… transmits a thought or idea, I feel the flutter of his little… essence!” She squeals, twirling around my bedpost.

“We complement each other! We grant abilities to akumas and sentimonsters. Transmission and Emotion… inseparable! Symbiotic! He gives and I feel. I feel and he transmits, together, we make the magic happen!”

I groan into my pillow so hard I’m practically muffled. “I just wanted… trivia, not… a full-on rom-com lecture in my bedroom.”

Duusu huffs indignantly, landing on my chest with dramatic flair. “Marilla, you don’t understand! Nooroo is… just… perfection in shy, golden-smiling form! He’s… he’s cautious, gentle, he never oversteps. And when he hesitates… oh, I just swoop in and-”

"Please, please hush." I shove my finger in front of her mouth.

She stares at me annoyed.

"Okay, adorable, you and Nooroo are Concept Mates. Is there any other romantic pairs?" I ask curious trying to think of what concepts match each other. Plagg and Tikki was an obvious, Creation and Destruction. 

"Plagg and Tikki are the only other Pair in the Chinese miracle box." Duusu said twirling around, I hear the rain starting to end so I got up.

I groan and change into an identical copy of my clothes (I got multiple pairs, sue me.)

Duusu flies into my jacket pocket as I pick up my backpack and leave my room.

"Sweetie! Do you know where Marinette is?" Sabine asked from the kitchen.

"Probably with some friends," I shout back and I went downstairs into the bakery then just left.

I hum walking to school and Alix is waiting for me at the door.

Alix is leaned against the wall by the school’s front doors, earbuds dangling around her neck, hands stuffed in her hoodie pocket like she owns the place. The early-morning sun’s just catching her hair, and for a second I pause mid-step like some kind of cliché.

She spots me and grins wide. “Finally. I thought you drowned in the rain or something.”

“Close,” I say, flicking my still-damp bangs out of my eyes. “Paris tried to assassinate me with mozzarella sticks and poor weather decisions.”

Alix snorts, pushing off the wall to fall into step with me. “Damn. Hate when that happens. Mozzarella death’s gotta be one of the top five lamest ways to go.”

“Excuse you.” I clutch my chest dramatically. “There is nothing lame about mozzarella sticks. If I go down that way, just carve ‘she died as she lived, cheesy’ on my gravestone.”

She laughs so loud a couple kids look over. My ears burn, but I pretend to be more interested in kicking a loose pebble down the walkway.

“Cheesy, huh?” Alix nudges me with her elbow. “Kinda fits you already.”

I trip over air. “W-what’s that supposed to mean?”

She smirks, leaning closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “Just saying, you’re a drama queen. Always with the big poses, the sighs, the whole… villain monologue energy.”

If only she knew.

I huff, shoving her shoulder back lightly. “I am not dramatic. I’m… atmospheric.”

“Atmospheric, huh?” She laughs again, shaking her head. “Yeah, okay, Mozart.”

“Marozzarella,” I correct instantly, because my brain is fried cheese.

That earns me the biggest grin yet, her blue eyes sparkling. “God, you’re such an idiot.”

And I want to melt into the pavement, not because of embarrassment, but because, ugh. She looks way too good when she smiles like that.

We get into the most boring class of the day, Science... greaaaaaat.

I plop down beside Nathaniel as Alix waves and goes to her seat beside Mylene.

Ms. Mendeleiev was teaching combustion but I wasnt really paying attention.

I look over at Rose secretly watching the news on her Phone.

"Today, Prince Ali, of the kingdom of Atchoo." Atchoo? What, did the person sneeze when naming the kingdom? "Will do his honors during his official parisian visit by hosting a toy Fundraiser for the Paris children's hospital."

"Hes so gorgeous, and he has a heart of gold." Rose swoons as Juleka hands her a tissue to wipe her eyes while smiling.

I feel awkward as well, its clear as day and night that Juleka is in love with Rose and is jealous and hurt over Rose's swooning for Prince Ali.

I lean back in my chair, arms crossed over my chest, trying to look like I’m totally invested in the combustion lecture, but my eyes keep drifting toward Juleka and Rose. The little scene playing out across the desks is painfully obvious.

Rose is practically floating in a daze, swooning over the prince like she’s in some kind of soap opera, and Juleka’s face is tight, lips pressed into a thin line, shoulders hunched. She’s trying, so hard, to mask her feelings, but it’s written all over her posture.

"What if I write him a letter!" Rose suddenly had an idea and took out a paper, Juleka just smiled along.

I thought about saying something when the door to the classroom swings open with Marinette falling through.

"Ah Marinette, what excuse do you have for us this time? Locked yourself in the bathroom again?" Ms. Mendeleiev sneered, annoyed with everything.

"O- Of course not!" She sputtered out.

Marinette is terrible at lying so I speak up for her, "She was getting a refill of my prescription for me, Sorry teach!" I say knowing Marinette always has a spare pill bottle incase I run out.

"O- Oh yeah!" Marinette walks over and hands me the spare bottle to seem legit.

"Thanks sis." I shove the medicine into my backpack.

Ms. Mendeleiev seemed to take it at face value, "Fine just inform me if you're going to be late, again."

She suddenly turned seeing Rose spraying perfume on her envelope, she walked over and took the Perfume, "Thank you rose but the room doesnt need extra refreshing and using chemicals in the science room is stupid and foolish. Clearly you were not listening about what I was saying about Combustion."

She held out her other hand, "Furthermore using a phone during class hours is strictly forbidden." She gestured for her to hand it over.

Rose froze, eyes wide as she slowly extended the phone toward Ms. Mendeleiev. “B-but… I just-”

I leaned back in my chair, smirking faintly, and whispered to Juleka, “Classic. She’s about to get schooled by the teacher and somehow survive.”

Rose’s hand shook slightly as the teacher took the phone. “I-I was just checking… notes!” she stammered, voice high and squeaky.

“Notes, hmm?” Ms. Mendeleiev said, raising a sharp eyebrow. “On your phone?” She tapped the screen lightly. “I don’t see any notes. I see… social media, and apparently… a letter to someone named Prince Ali?”

Rose’s blush could have melted the snow on Mount Everest. Juleka tensed beside her, lips pressing into an even thinner line. I sighed softly, leaning my head on my hand. Classic crush behavior.

"Now take your things and go to the principal's office." Ms. Mendeleiev turned to head to her desk as Rose sulked and walked out.

She grabbed a glass capsule, "Now class this is why you don't use anything flammable in a class setting.."

She sprayed some of the thick, pink perfume into the container and quicky put it down firmly on top of a burner, she waited so if any perfume leaked it out didn't combust aswell.

She flicked a burner turning it on and BAM! The entire jar went alight as the perfume inside the capsule ignited. "Since apparently you don't understand basic things, I'll be quizzing you all on lab safety, again."

I glance over at Nathaniel, who’s hunched over his notebook, pencil flying across the page. “Whatcha drawing there?” I whisper, tilting my head to get a peek.

He jumps slightly at being addressed, eyes flicking up at me. “Uh… nothing important,” he mutters, but his pencil keeps moving, sketching a surprisingly detailed illustration of what looks like a mechanical bird with elaborate wings.

“Nothing important, huh?” I raise an eyebrow, leaning closer. “That looks like… some kind of… flying automaton thingy. That’s actually really good.”

He blushes, glancing at the teacher before lowering his head. “I… I just like drawing stuff I see around. And sometimes… things I imagine.”

I grin, tapping the edge of my notebook with my pen. “You’ve got serious talent. Have you ever thought about… doing more with it? Comics, inventions, prototypes…?”

Nathaniel’s ears turn slightly red, and he gives me a small, shy smile. “Maybe… I don’t know. I just… draw.”

“Just draw?” I snort softly. “Trust me, kid, people kill to be able to do ‘just draw’ like you do. Keep at it.”

Across the room, Marinette and Alya are huddled together, whispering intensely. Their heads are bent so close it looks like they’re plotting some world-altering secret. I can’t catch everything, but phrases like 'your crazy' and 'somethings odd about her' drift across. Classic Marinette scheming energy.

Meanwhile, Chloe has planted herself near the front row, arms crossed, giving everyone a glare that could melt iron. “Prince Ali,” she mutters to herself, voice full of entitlement, “is definitely staying at my hotel. Only my hotel. Not that anyone asked.” She spins slightly on her heel, glaring at a vague patch of air as if daring anyone to challenge her.

Juleka, sitting quietly next to me, has her arms crossed and her head tilted just slightly downward. Her gaze keeps drifting to the door where Rose disappeared. Every now and then, her lips press together tighter, her shoulders hunch just a little more.

She’s sulking, but not in the typical 'I’m bored' way, this is a quiet, aching kind of sulk. I catch her eye for a brief second, give a tiny nod of solidarity. She barely acknowledges it, but I know she noticed.

I lean back in my chair, balancing on the edge of my seat slightly, feeling the chaos of the classroom all around me, the perfume fire, Rose in the principal’s office, Chloe’s diva energy, Marinette and Alya whispering schemes, and Juleka’s quiet heartbreak, and I can’t help but smirk.

“High school,” I mutter under my breath, “nothing ever changes.”

Nathaniel gives me a small, knowing smile. “Yeah… nothing ever changes,” he echoes softly, returning to his drawing.

The bell rings and I stretch and get up, I head out of the classroom and down the stairs and wait.

I see Alya and Marinette go to the steps watching Adrien and Nino. "You two truly are made for each other, neither one of you can make it to school on time." Alya joked.

"I mean, Neither can I." I walk over and lean against the wall, I raise a brow at Alya giving me a suspicious look.

"Anyways since he missed chemistry class... It would be nice if someone gave him some notes." Alya teased Marinette.

"Your right- Oh wait you... mean for me to-" Marinette sputtered out blushing.

"S to the I to the M to the P." I say with a wide grin as Marinette glares at me.

Marinette freezes mid-step, eyes widening as she stares at me like I’ve just revealed the secrets of the universe. “Excuse me?” she sputters, the blush creeping up her neck to her ears.

I just grin wider, leaning casually against the railing. “Yeah… you know, S-I-M-P. Simple as that.”

Alya snorts beside her, covering her mouth with a hand. “Oh my gosh, you did not just say that!”

Marinette groans, burying her face in her hands. “You’re impossible, Marilla! Impossible!”

I shrug innocently, though my smirk gives me away. “Nah, I’m just… being honest. Someone has to call it like it is.”

Alya elbowed her lightly, still giggling. “Honestly, she’s not wrong. You are over here blushing every time Adrien breathes within a three-meter radius.”

Marinette flails, tugging on her backpack straps like she’s going to disappear into them. “I am not! That is… ugh… that is completely different!”

Marinette walks down the steps as she takes out her notes to hand to adrien only to trip on a kid's' backpack.

I walk around seeing Adrien and Nino helping her up, my eyes are at Tikki who was flung out of Marinette's backpack... at chloe's feet.

"What kind of stuffed animal is this?" Chloe questioned holding Tikki by her Attanae as she froze to seem like a toy.

I walk over and hold my hand out, "A figurine from a show I watch, hand it over Chloe."

Chloe eyes me like I’ve grown a second head, holding Tikki just a little higher. “And why would I do that?” she huffs, flipping her hair like it’s a weapon.

"Do you really want me to punch you again? We've known each other for four years, others may put up with your bullshit but I'll swing on a bitch, now hand it over." I glare at her seeing her flinch, the perks of running straight to violence is getting what you want sometimes.

Chloe freezes mid-flip, her eyes widening just enough for a flicker of hesitation. She tightens her grip on Tikki, like she’s trying to weigh the risk versus the reward of keeping her hostage.

I step closer, keeping my glare locked on her, and the air between us feels sharp. “Seriously, Chloe. I’m not asking nicely. That… little friend of mine doesn’t belong in your hands. Now hand it over.”

She scowls, trying to maintain that air of superiority, but the slightest twitch in her shoulders betrays her uncertainty. Finally, with a dramatic huff, she drops Tikki into my waiting hand.

“Fine! Take your… weird little… whatever that is!” she spits out, snatching her backpack off the ground and stomping off like a storm cloud in designer shoes.

I step away while Marinette is still searching her bag and Rose runs over.

Im not paying attention as I grin seeing Tikki still pretending to be a toy, Kwamis cant talk about other miraculous users, so...

"Your lucky Tikki, I doubt you want to be far from marinette... especially when an Akuma will attack today." I say quietly yet casually as Tikki stops acting like a toy to look at me shocked.

I grin and put a finger over my mouth, "Shh... Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, would we?"

I shift my jacket a bit to show the Peacock Brooch.

"You... your Vainquill." Tikki says Horrified, her voice scratchy from being sick.

I tilt my head, letting the morning sunlight catch the peacock feathers on my brooch. “Guilty as charged,” I say smoothly, slipping Tikki gently into the crook of my arm. “But hey… don’t look so shocked. You’re in the presence of a professional.”

Tikki’s tiny wings flutter, antennae twitching like she’s about to explode. “Professional? You… you’re a villain!”

"Go back to acting like a toy, Duusu is fine." I tell her as I look up and walk over to Marinette.

"Hey Marinette, I saw this weird toy get flung out of your purse, is it something your making for Mamon?" I ask innocently, Tikki cant tell her that her own sister is a villain, so might aswell give Tikki some dread.

Why?

Simple its fun.

Marinette grabs Tikki and practically shoves her back into her purse, cheeks burning as she laughs nervously. “Y-Yeah! It’s just… just a, um... limited-edition collectible! ”

I hum like I’m convinced, nodding with a grin. “Nice craftsmanship. Almost looks alive.”

Tikki peeks out of the purse for the briefest second, glaring up at me with wide, horrified eyes before ducking back inside. I feel Duusu shift in my jacket pocket, crunching down another almond with a muffled giggle.

“Delicious chaos,” Duusu whispers. “She knows, but she can’t tell. Ohh, this is so much fun.”

I ignore her, looking toward the street where Chloe’s car is already gone. Rose is crumpled near the school steps, hands clutching the shredded remnants of her letter. Juleka’s still frozen halfway down the stairs, caught between chasing after her and staying rooted in place. Her knuckles are white around the strap of her bag.

For a moment, guilt tugs at me. Rose is one of my closest friends, her smile, her constant optimism, the way she radiates sunshine. Watching her crumble like that feels wrong. Feels heavy.

But I don’t move. I can’t.

Because Rose has to break before she can be useful.

I force myself to look away, to keep walking beside Marinette and Alya as if I hadn’t noticed anything. Alya’s already prattling about how Chloe’s “literally evil” and Marinette’s still rattled from the Tikki scare, so they don’t catch my silence. My grin stays plastered on, but my chest twists.

“Don’t get soft,” I mutter under my breath.

I start walking off, "Hey Marinette im going to go on a walk, Might be home late." I say smoothly lying seeing in the corner of my eye Rose run off in the other direction.

I hum walking only to turn into an alley, "Duusu, spread my plumes."

I transform into Vainquill and hop onto a building, I sit down on the roof as across the street is the hotel. All I need to do is wait till Princess Fragrence breaks in.

I take out my knife fan and snap it open as it turns into its weird tablet thingy- I still dont get it.

I click the purple moth button as I call Hawkmoth, he should be transformed still.

The screen flickers alive, bathing my face in violet light. Hawkmoth’s sharp features sharpen even more through the glow, his expression stern but curious.

“Vainquill,” he intones, his voice low and commanding, “you rarely call first. This must be important.”

I twirl the knife fan lazily between my fingers, letting the blade catch the sunlight before it folds neatly back into the digital screen. “Important? Mmm… maybe. Maybe not. Depends on how you look at it.”

Hawkmoth’s frown deepens. “Do not waste my time with riddles.”

I grin, sharp and unbothered. “Relax. I’m not here to chatter. I’m here to give you a heads-up. The stage is set, the pieces are moving, and one particularly fragrant princess is about to fall right into your hands. You might want to be ready.”

For a moment, Hawkmoth studies me, his violet eyes narrowing. “You’ve been… interfering more than usual, Vainquill. What is your game?”

I shrug, leaning back against the rooftop tiles, legs dangling casually over the ledge. “Game? Please. Call it… entertainment. You work in black and white, tragedy and victory. Me? I deal in color. I like watching people crack. It’s art.”

Hawkmoth’s eyes flicker toward the kwami, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You should learn control, Vainquill. Chaos without focus is useless.”

I click my tongue, he wants me to be more active, he wants me to be less active, what does he want?

"Yeah yeah, anyways I'll be waiting for the akuma." I close the tablet ending the call.

I hum and kick my legs waiting bored.

I already have an idea for my Sentimonster for this round- actually I should summon him already so I dont have to deal with my timer.

I take out the object for this Sentimonster's amok... and old watch.

I reach into my fan and pull out a white feather, I clutch it hard and it turns blue.

"Come on out, Sir Silver!"

I slam the feather into the watch as it flashes black, a black and blue bubbling grows as a knight stands before me made of Liquid mercury, he held a long Lance and wore a samurai Helmet. He opened his yellow eyes and knelt.

"Thank you for creating me, Madam Vainquill." Sir Silver said as he remained kneeling.

I wave my hand, de-transforming. "No problem, I need your powers for this fight sooo I made you."

Duusu flies out of the Brooch and I start feeding her almonds.

Sir Silver’s head bows lower, mercury rippling as if he’s alive and breathing. “What would you have me do?” His voice is calm but resonant, like steel striking steel.

I grin, tossing an almond into the air for Duusu, who swoops and snaps it mid-flight with a muffled giggle. “For now? Nothing. Just… stay close. The perfume princess is going to do all the heavy lifting for us. When the chaos starts, you’ll step in.”

His eyes gleam gold in the sunlight. “As you command.”

I lean back on my hands, stretching against the roof tiles. The streets below hum with traffic, students spilling from the school in clumps, chatter and laughter rising up like static. From this vantage, Paris looks so calm. Fragile. Like glass. And I’m just waiting with a hammer.

Duusu munches loudly, cheeks puffed out, and peers at Sir Silver with wide, manic eyes. “Oooh, he’s shiny. So shiny! Can I poke him? Can I?”

I snort. “You poke him, he might poke back.”

Sir Silver tilts his head, solemn as ever. “I exist to serve, not to harm my lady’s allies.”

“See?” I smirk. “He’s polite. Way more polite than me, anyway.”

I see a pink puff of smoke suddenly bombard the Doorman as he gets hypnotized by Princess Fragrence who he lets in.

"Alright Silver, showtime. Duusu, Spread my Plumes."

I transform again and start hopping buildings with Sir Silver following behind, I move till I can see through a window where I could spot Prince Ali looking through the giant window at the Seine river which had a boat with fireworks rowing down it.

"Madam Vainquill, what are we waiting for?" Sir Silver questioned, his lance shifting around a bit.

"Duh were waiting for the Akuma to make there enterance first, you wont be around... long... okay thats kinda rude, sorry- But our job is mainly to help the akuma, Were villains, but were not the MAIN villain, capiche?" I ask as he seems to pause in thought.

Sir Silver stays kneeling beside me, mercury rippling down his shoulders like a liquid cape. His Lance gleams faintly, catching the light of the fireworks outside Prince Ali’s window. His head tilts ever so slightly as he processes my words.

“I understand, my lady,” he replies finally, his voice steady. “A knight is not the king. I am your sword, not your crown.”

"Ugh, dont call me 'my lady,' it makes you sound like Chat Noir." I grimace as I see Chloe get hit secretly by that stink shot and people back away from her.

"Showtime~" I say dramatically as the news reporters get hypnotized by Princess Fragrence, I wait as she aims her perfume gun at Prince Ali and I spread my jacket to be like a cape to glide as I dropkick through the window.

"Howdy Princess Fragrence, Your Back-up and Knight has arrived." I gesture to Sir Silver who's mercury body climbs into the window like a liquid and reforms.

Princess Fragrence squeals, twirling her bottle in the air as she backs up slightly. “Oh my gosh, a real knight?!” Her eyes practically sparkle, reflecting the golden glow of the chandelier.

“Finally, someone to help me protect… him!” She gestures wildly toward Prince Ali, who is already sprinting for the nearest exit with Chloe, André, and the other staff who somehow avoided the pink haze.

Sir Silver rises fluidly, mercury flowing across his armor, Lance at the ready. “I exist to serve,” he intones solemnly, voice like steel striking glass, “to shield and to strike when commanded.”

I spin in midair, landing gracefully behind him, fan snapping open like a warning banner. “See? Told you. Professional, polite, and merciless when needed.”

Princess Fragrence gasps, clearly thrilled by the spectacle. “Oh, this is perfect! With a knight defending me, nothing can stop my perfume magic! You’ll see, Prince Ali will have to notice me now!”

"The same Prince Ali who just escaped?" I question pointing at the open door at the side of the room, the Prince and others having already ran far out.

Her eyes widen, a little cartoonish, and she squeals. “What? No! They can’t just, hey, wait for me!” She twirls her perfume gun like a baton, sprinting after them in heels.

I shrug and lead the way with Sir Silver following, I hear the double doors shut and Andre's muffled voice bragging about it being reinforced doors.

"Ight, Knock em down." I snap my fingers and Sir Silver lunges past Princess Fragrence surprising her as his Lance swells to become blunt as he SLAMS his lance into it.

The 'reinforced' door completely shatters and Andre is knocked forward, probably with a bruised or badly injured back since he was pushed against the door.

I stay back and slowly adjust the nearby vacuum cleaner to 'accidentally' turn on soon.

"PRINCE ALI! My love, No need to run you can just admit your feelings to me!" Princess Fragrence said moving to the room as Sir Silver moved aside, his lance returning to normal.

Princess Fragrence’s perfume gun sparks as she aims it at Prince Ali again. “PRINCE ALI! My love, no need to run! You can just admit your feelings to me!” Her voice is shrill, breathless, and dripping with dramatic flair.

Chloe, frozen near the doorway, squeals in horror at her father being shoved into the shattered double doors. “DAD!” she yells, hands clutching her chest as she stumbles back. Andre groans, clearly bruised but otherwise okay, flopping forward with a graceless thud.

Prince Ali and his assistant retreat, desperately trying to put distance between themselves and the fragrant menace. She raises her Perfume gun and fires.

I 'accidentally' bump into the vacuum cleaner as it turns on, the pink perfume cloud suddenly bending back and getting sucked up into the vacuum cleaner.

"HEY!" Princess Fragrance spun around looking pissed.

“Oh, oops,” I say, tilting my head innocently, fingers brushing a stray feather on my jacket. “Vacuum cleaner… totally on by accident. My bad!”

"Princess, Behind you!" Sir Silver pointed with his lance as the group was running off again through a side-door.

"UGH! You may be my knight but you need to do your job better!" Fragrance complained and chased after.

I grinned at Silver before following as Chloe dropped her father to run up the stairs and Andre got hit by the perfume.

"GET THEM!" She shouted getting annoyed.

"At your service, Princess Fragrence." Andre got up as if he didnt get hurt in a sing-song tune.

"Mind control, scary and neat." I say casually.

"You two! Go up the stairs with him!" Princess Fragrence moved into the elevator beside the stairs and began heading up.

"Rude," I comment before me and Sir Silver began heading up the stairs.

God I hate stairs.

We head up until we reach the floor with the Dining hall, Sir Silver impaled the poorly barricaded door on his lance to throw it aside.

Chloe, Ali and his Assistant started backing up.

"Aw, a poor rich bee, a prince from a kingdom named after a sneeze, and a nobody. Shame you three are all alone." I say in a fake sympathetic tone as I open my Knife fan.

The Elevator opens as the butler who tried to barricade the door is hit with perfume.

"Come into my arms my sweet prince~" Princess Fragrance sang as she walked out of the cloud of perfume smoke.

"Ugh, What smells like dead fish!" A voice shouts from the window as I snap my fan shut annoyed as Chat Noir stands there with a grin.

Ladybug isnt here so Marinette must still be getting Tikki healed.

"Well considering your a cat, wouldnt be surprising if you got some bits of your meal on you." I quip with a grin, sure Im supposed to be serious but hey, a few quips wont hurt.

Sir Silver's lance shifts to narrow the blade turning it incredibly sharp as he kept his yellow eyes trained on Chat Noir.

Chat Noir twirls his staff once, leaning casually against the window frame like he just walked into a comedy club instead of an Akuma attack. “Meal? Ouch, featherbrain, you wound me. I eat like a king. Tuna tartare, salmon sashimi, the finest milk Paris has to offer.” He smirks, teeth glinting in the dim chandelier light. “And here I thought you’d appreciate a fellow connoisseur of dramatic entrances.”

I snap my fan open again with a fwip, feathers glinting like blades. “Dramatic entrances? You’re more like a furball coughing up excuses every time you show your whiskers.”

“Oho! Sharp tongue, dangerous as your fan, huh?” Chat Noir vaults off the windowsill, staff extending with a metallic shnk. He lands between Chloe and Prince Ali like a knight of his own, tail flicking in mock challenge. “Guess it’s a good thing cats always land on their feet.”

Sir Silver steps forward, his mercury body rippling as the lance sharpens to a needle-point. “Shall I strike him down, Madam Vainquill?” His voice is steady, a knight awaiting only my word.

“Not yet, Silver,” I say, fan angled casually over my shoulder. “You don’t put down a mangy stray before he finishes hissing.”

Chat grins wider. “Mangy stray? I’ll have you know, my fur is silky, my claws are sharp, and unlike you, I don’t shed loyalty every other fight.” He twirls his staff, pointing it at me. “Tell me, birdie, you ever get tired of preening while working for Moth-daddy?”

My eyes narrow behind the mask. “Careful, kitty. Keep tugging at my feathers and I might pluck your whiskers one by one.”

Princess Fragrance, clearly annoyed at being sidelined, stomps her heel on the floor, perfume gun rattling in her grip. “Um, EXCUSE ME? This is supposed to be my love story, not your… cat-and-bird pun-off!”

She raised her gun and fired shots at Chat Noir who blocked with his staff then hopped off the window to stretch it and slam her into the wall.

"Silver." I say without needing to say much more, Instantly Sir Silver is on chat Noir, Lunging and his Lance stretches out impaling where Chat Noir just was as he jumped away.

"Woah, Chill out metal man." Chat Noir joked as he retracted his staff then rolled as the Lance swung down again at him.

Chat Noir twirled his staff like a baton as Sir Silver’s mercury-lance slammed into the ground, denting the tile with a sickly metallic squelch. “Okay, gotta say,” he smirked, tail flicking behind him as he backed up, “this is the first time I’ve fought a knight who’s shinier than my charm. You’re really stealing my thunder here.”

The knight’s helmet turned with a slow creak, expressionless, but somehow menacing. With a shudder, his weapon split down the middle, stretching into a writhing chain-whip of liquid metal tipped with razor barbs.

“Ohhh boy.” Chat Noir gulped, springing back as the whip lashed, slicing through a marble column like it was butter. “And here I thought Ladybug’s yo-yo was hard to dodge.”

Princess Fragrance blew a kiss at Sir Silver, perfume mist trailing like a heart. “Knock him flat, darling! A true princess deserves a knight, not some alley cat who reeks of rooftops!”

“Hey!” Chat Noir deflected another strike with his staff, sparks flying. “First off, rude! Rooftop cologne is in this season. Second-” he ducked under a horizontal swipe, then vaulted to land behind Sir Silver, swinging at his back, “-knights are overrated anyway! I prefer the classic: leather armor, nine lives, and loads of charisma!”

Sir Silver didn’t so much as flinch. His body rippled, and the staff that should’ve smacked him in the back sank into the mercury with a disturbing slurp, trapped in the metal.

“Oh no.” Chat’s ears went flat. “That’s… bad.”

With a jerk, Sir Silver yanked, pulling Chat Noir off balance and swinging him across the ballroom floor like a ragdoll. Chat smacked into a chair, winced, then raised a finger. “Ow. Ten out of ten, shiny tin man. Really nailed the dramatic throw."

I suddenly duck avoiding the Yo-yo shot at the watch on my wrist.

"Chat Noir! The watch!" Ladybug arrived at the window having had spectated a bit, She probably guessed the watch was the amok since I never wore a watch, which is right but still.

"Wanna know what birds do to bugs? THEY EAT THEM!" I grin as Maniacly as I can muster before unclipping knives from my knife fan and starting to chuck them at Ladybug who spins her yo-yo to block them.

Meanwhile Sir Silver dashes past to Chat Noir as Princess Fragrence raises her perfume gun and fires at the batonless Chat Noir.

Chat Noir's pupils dialate as he gets controlled. "All hail, Princess Fragrance."

Silver stops seeing the control as Ladybug shouts in horror.

"Nice one Princess!" I grin and turn to Ladybug, "A four vs One, seems your screwed, aren't you?"

Ladybug’s jaw clenches as she steadies her yo-yo, red suit gleaming against the gold glow of the chandelier. “Four against one?” She smirks despite the tension. “Guess that means I’ll just have to work four times harder.”

"LUCKY CHARM!"

I squint my eyes as she tosses her hand up for the blinding pink light, "SIR SILVER! ATTACK HER!" I order the Senti-monster who rushes.

"CAT! GIVE ME HER MIRACULOUS!" Princess Fragrance shouts aswell commanding the controlled Chat Noir who lunges at Ladybug.

Ladybug is staring at her hand with an expression halfway between disbelief and “oh god, why me.”

A squeaky rubber plunger. Bright red. Handle chipped. A literal bathroom plunger.

I bark out a laugh so sharp it hurts my throat. “Pffft, HA! What are you gonna do, Bugsy? Unclog our pipes of evil? ‘Cause trust me, babe, there’s no fixing me.” I spin my fan in my hand, knives glinting. “You’re out of your league.”

Sir Silver is already on her, mercury whip lashing like a serpent, smashing tile and splintering tables as she flips and ducks. Every strike comes closer, her yo-yo snapping out desperately to keep some space between them. Then Chat Noir joins the fray, no jokes, no grin, just glassy green eyes and fangs bared as he claws for her earrings.

“Cat, no!” she gasps, rolling under his staff swipe. He’s brutal when he’s not holding back.

And then there’s Fragrance, twirling her bottle, firing in bursts. The pink haze dances like poison through the air, forcing Ladybug to cover her mouth with one hand as she moves.

Four against one, and I can see it, the strain around her eyes, the tiny misstep when Chat nearly clips her arm, the way Silver’s chain just barely misses her leg. She’s cornered.

And me? I’m loving it.

“C’mon, Ladybug!” I crow, pacing the edge of the chaos, my jacket fanning behind me like wings. “Show me how you improv your way out of THIS! A knight, a cat, a lovesick princess, and me. You’re not Houdini, you’re lunch.”

But then… her gaze sharpens. Bug’s brain is turning. She glances at the chandelier swaying above, then at the perfume bottle glittering in Princess Fragrance’s grip, then at my wrist. My smile falters for a second as her eyes flick back to the rubber plunger.

No. No way. She’s not-

“Silver! STOP HER!” I snap, sudden panic biting at the edges of my voice. My Senti-monster roars, lance-shifting back from whip to spear and stabbing straight at her chest.

Ladybug vaults onto a tipped-over chair, using it as a springboard. She flips over the lance, midair, and slaps the plunger onto the chandelier chain.

The suction sticks with an ugly squeal, yanking the chain taut as she whips her yo-yo around it.

She swings like Tarzan, straight through the haze, kicking Chat Noir aside just enough to knock him into the wall.

"Shit-" I look up as the Chandelier falls crashing down on Princess Fragrance, I lunge for the perfume gun but Ladybug's yo-yo is faster, slamming into it as the akuma flies out and shatters.

"YOU STUPID BUG! SIR SILVER! ATTACK!" I scream as Ladybug rolls to avoid being impaled on the mercury Lance as she's clearly trying to get to the Akuma before it can escape so she can purify it.

I fling a knife from my fan, its edge glinting in the chandelier light. “Try catching this, Bugsy!” I taunt, spinning the fan in a wide arc, launching a volley of blades toward her. She parries each with her yo-yo, eyes narrowed, calculating angles as she bounds backward across overturned tables.

Chat Noir groans, shaking off the disorientation from the chandelier swing, claws scraping the marble floor. His gaze locks on me, pupils narrowing, tail flicking sharply. “Not. On. My. Watch,” he hisses, springing forward.

"CATACLYSM!"

Holy fuck my life flashed before my eyes-

His hand grazed the watch disintegrating it but for a brief second I thought he fucking snapped and tried to murder me.

Sir Silver merely kneels as he disintegrates.

"FUCK!" I kick Chat Noir in the gut making him stumble back as Ladybug's yo-yo hits the akuma.

I lunge for the window and Chat Noir grabs my ankle making me fall, I roll to throw him over me at the balcony.

I jump over him then glide off the balcony, jacket spread like wings, spinning midair. “Time for a stylish exit!” The wind catches me, feathers ruffling as I soar across rooftops, Sir Silver gone with the destruction of the watch.

Landing in a shadowed alley, I crouch, breathing steady, letting the adrenaline fade. "Duusu, fold my plumes."

"That was GREAT! So much fun!" Duusu flies around as I transform back to regular ol' Marilla.

I pause taking a few deep breaths feeling some heartburn, "Dont got any almonds on me, come on we gotta head back to the bakery."

Duusu pouts as I put her back into my jacket and start heading back to the Bakery, I told Marinette I'd be on a walk so hopefully she still believes that excuse.

I push open the bakery door quietly, the familiar smell of fresh bread and sweet pastries greeting me. Tom, perched behind the counter with his usual grin, perks up instantly.

“Well, look who decided to come back from… wherever,” he says, eyes sparkling with mischief.

I smirk faintly, brushing some dirt off my jacket. “Something like that. Thought I’d, you know, stretch my wings. Go for a nice walk.”

Tom chuckles, shaking his head. “Marilla, you always make it sound so… graceful. Somehow I doubt it’s ever graceful.”

I shrug and head upstairs, leaving him grinning behind the counter. The stairs creak under my weight, and I push open the door to my room. Collapsing onto my bed, I let out a long exhale, my chest heaving as I finally let the tension drain. The city noises fade into background hum, replaced by the quiet ticking of the clock and the soft rustle of the curtains.

Just as I’m about to close my eyes, I hear a tentative knock at my door.

“Marilla… can I come in?”

I lift my head, blinking at the familiar voice. Marinette. Somehow, even after everything that just happened, hearing her voice makes the chaos feel a little lighter.

I sit up fully, brushing a few stray strands of hair from my face. “Yeah… come on in.”

The door opens slowly, and she peeks in, holding a notebook clutched to her chest, seeming awkward not sure how to ask something. “I… uh… I just wanted to check if you’re okay. The, um… the walk thing?”

I give her a small smile, trying to hide how rattled I actually feel. “I’m fine. Really. Just… needed some fresh air.”

She steps fully inside, closing the door behind her. “Right. Fresh air. You know uh- Im your twin."

"Yeah...? Of course I know your my twin?" I ask confused and slowly.

Marinette pauses, "If you want to tell me anything, I wont judge you."

What is she-

oh

OH

I forgot she overheard me telling Nathaniel I was a lesbian when he got akumatized into Evillustrator and forced me on a date, well technically 'ladybug' overheard me.

Welp time to troll.

"I have no idea what your talking about." I feign innocence, I wanna see if she'll come up with some lie to tell me she knows im gay or if she'll just fold and act normal.

I can’t help but let out a little chuckle. Humming thoughtfully, I realize it’s been ages since we actually had a proper conversation, just the two of us.

No miraculous missions, no chaos, no villains, just us. And somehow, despite all the secrets I’m hiding, it’s… nice. Ironically, I have more secrets than she does, yet here she is, trusting me enough to even peek into my room.

I shrug, letting the silence linger for a beat, before sighing and letting a tiny smile creep onto my face. “Alright… fine. Since you asked so nicely,” I tease, flipping my hair back slightly. “I like girls.”

Her eyes widen, but not in shock. More… relief, maybe. She steps closer, sitting cross-legged on the edge of my bed. “Marilla… really?” Her voice is gentle, soft, but warm. “I… I support you, no matter what.”

I grin, feeling a weird sense of comfort wash over me. “Mhm. Figures you’d be the supportive one. It’s kinda your thing, isn’t it? Always worrying about everyone.”

She laughs quietly, and it’s… nice. Truly nice. There’s no hidden agendas here, no battling akumas or hiding miraculous identities. Just… us. I feel a pang of irony; I’ve been juggling so much in secret, yet this moment feels oddly pure.

She pauses, tilting her head, eyes curious. “So… um… do you… have a crush on anyone right now?”

I raise an eyebrow, letting a sly grin form. “Oh? Asking about crushes, are we? Well, since it’s only fair for you to know, considering your little Adrien crush,” I tease, pointing a finger at her like I’m casting blame, “you’re gonna have to share first if you want me to play nice.”

Marinette blinks, then giggles nervously, cheeks burning. “W-Well… maybe…” She hesitates, glancing away before meeting my eyes. "Okay I do like Adrien." She admits.

I nod, "Alix."

"ALIX?" Marinette says surprised

"HUSH! SHUSH! I do NOT want our parents to know, Look Marinette, Your sweet, kind, and im a punk disaster. I dont want Tom or Sabine to know im gay yet, alright?" I ask practically jumping off my bed to shove my finger onto her mouth.

Marinette cocks her head, clearly delighting in my flustered state. “Ohh, so that’s the big secret, huh? Alix, the mysterious punk who’s too cool for everyone else… and you like them?” Her voice is soft, teasing, but she’s fully enjoying herself, and I hate that she knows how to make me squirm.

I try to scoff, but it comes out more like a squeak. “I… I don’t like... I mean… maybe I like them a little, okay, fine! I do like Alix!” My hands fly up defensively, waving around as if to erase the admission from existence. “But seriously, you can’t tell anyone! Not Tom, not Sabine, not anyone, got it? Not even Alya.”

She leans back and goes to sit on my bed, crossing her legs with that infuriating little smirk she always gets when she’s enjoying herself. “Relax, Marilla. Your secret’s safe with me. I won’t tell a soul… for now.”

I groan, flopping onto the bed beside her, burying my face in a pillow for dramatic effect. “You make this so much worse, you know that? I didn’t need my twin to be this… terrifyingly perceptive.”

Marinette laughs, a quiet, warm sound that makes my chest tighten in a way I don’t usually admit out loud. “Terrifyingly perceptive? That’s a new one,” she says, nudging me with her shoulder. “Come on, admit it, you like Alix because they’re… different. Not just punk, not just mysterious… but kind of amazing, right?”

I sit onto my gaming chair, squinting at her, trying to play it cool. “Kind of amazing? That’s… incredibly vague and honestly way too flattering. You’re clearly trying to make me confess more.”

Her grin widens, and I swear she looks like she knows exactly how to push my buttons. “Maybe I am. So… do I get more details, or are you going to keep acting all mysterious?”

I groan again, dragging myself up to sit properly on the bed, brushing my hair back like it somehow gives me authority. “Ugh, fine, fine. Alix is… brilliant, sarcastic, annoyingly clever, and somehow manages to get under Kim's skin without even trying. There, are you happy now?”

Marinette claps her hands softly, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Ohhh, so that’s the reason. No wonder you’re always acting so… edgy around them. You’ve got a full-on crush, huh?”

I roll my eyes, trying to hide the grin tugging at my lips. “Edgy? Me? Please. I’m… completely normal. Totally chill. Nothing to see here.” But the heat creeping up my neck betrays me.

She chuckles, leaning back a little, clearly savoring the moment. “Sure, sure… normal, huh? Well, I guess even normal people can fall for amazing people like Alix.”

I huff, lying back on the bed again, pretending to sulk, but my chest feels lighter. For once, it’s just us. No masks, no villains, no chaos, just me, my twin, and a tiny confession that somehow feels… not terrifying.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I mutter, half-grinning, half-glowering.

“Maybe I am,” she teases, “but it’s worth it to see you squirm.”

And fine. I squirm. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t entirely hate it.

Chapter Text

"SWING SWING!" I cheer to Myself as I punch the punching bag over and over, feels nice being at the gym.

Look, I may be a chair potato who rarely gets out of the house and plays video games, but I box as a hobby, mainly going to the gym and hitting the punching bag instead of directly boxing-

But still!

I wipe my forehead, Alix sits nearby drinking a smoothie watching me, I blush a bit wondering if shes admiring my body but no no, im the one with the crush, not her- Even if I would like it to be different...

"Good Job girl! You have a great stance." Nora cheers me on as she punches her own punching bag, we both like boxing so have kinda become buddies.

I grin at Nora’s encouragement, tightening my fists and throwing another combo at the bag, jab, jab, hook, uppercut. The bag sways and thumps, my knuckles buzzing from the impact.

“Thanks! I’ve been practicing,” I say, a little breathless but proud.

Alix slurps on her smoothie obnoxiously loud, smirking at me. “Practicing what, exactly? Boxing or pretending you’re a Street Fighter character?”

I roll my eyes but can’t stop the small laugh. “Both, obviously. Who says I can’t be Chun-Li and Mayweather at the same time?”

Nora chuckles, wiping sweat from her brow before landing a sharp right hook into her bag. “She’s got a point. Nothing wrong with having a signature move. What’s yours? Mozzarella Smash?”

I freeze mid-punch, then groan, dragging a hand down my face. “Really? We’re bringing my cheese obsession into the gym now?”

Alix leans back in her chair, giving me the smuggest grin in the world. “Oh absolutely. Everyone knows the way to your heart is dairy. I bet if you could dip those gloves in marinara sauce, you would.”

My face heats up as I imagine it, and worse, imagine her saying that with a little more flirt to it. I quickly punch the bag again just to ground myself.

“Okay, fine,” I huff dramatically. “My finisher move will be The Mozzarella Meltdown. You’ll both be begging for mercy when I unleash it.”

Nora snorts. “Can’t wait to see it in action, champ.”

"Challenging me to a spar, Cesaire?" I grin at her as I stop throwing punches at the bag for a moment.

Nora smirks, bouncing on the balls of her feet like she’s been waiting for me to say that all along. She throws her towel over her shoulder and cracks her knuckles. “You bet your cheesy little heart I am. Let’s see if you can back up that Mozzarella Meltdown.”

Alix perks up immediately, sitting forward in her chair with that mischievous glint in her eyes. “Ohhh, now this I gotta see. Don’t hold back, Marilla, prove the hype is real.”

I swear my blush is threatening to set me on fire, but I roll my shoulders, trying to look cool as hell. “Fine, fine. But don’t cry when you get taken down, Cesaire. I don’t want to be responsible for bruising your ego.”

Nora grins, sliding her gloves back on and stepping into the ring. “Pfft, you’ll be lucky if you land one hit.”

I tug my gloves tight, hop into the ring, and face her down. The gym smells of chalk and sweat, and my pulse quickens with both nerves and excitement. Boxing with Nora? Fun. Boxing with Alix watching? Utter torture.

The bell clangs from some random guy at the front desk who saw us gearing up, guess word spread quick. A couple other gym-goers wander over to watch, leaning on the ropes. Fantastic. A crowd.

“Alright, Dupain-Cheng,” Nora says, bouncing lightly, hands up. “Show me what you’ve got.”

I square up, fists raised, smirking despite the heat in my cheeks. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

We circle, light on our feet. Nora throws the first jab, fast. I sidestep, narrowly missing, then toss a hook her way. She blocks, easy. Her grin widens. “Not bad.”

My gloves thump together as I test my stance, and the first thing I notice is… damn, I cannot go full throttle here. Being Vainquill has seriously jacked me up, more strength, more stamina, more precision.

If I actually let loose with a real hit, I’d probably send Nora flying across the gym like a ragdoll, and while that would be hilarious… it would also be really hard to explain.

So yeah. Gotta play it safe. Human safe.

I duck low as Nora throws a jab, the glove grazing my temple, and I throw a playful cross to her shoulder. She grins, unfazed. “That all you’ve got? I expected more bite with that bark, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Pfft, don’t worry,” I say, dancing back a few steps, bouncing on my heels like a wannabe pro. “I’m just warming up. Mozzarella Meltdown requires… proper seasoning first.”

From the sidelines, Alix practically cackles into her smoothie. “Oh my god, you’re such a dork! Just hit her already!”

I try not to look her way, because every time I do, my face heats up like I just walked into a pizza oven, but I can’t help sneaking a glance. She’s leaned forward, elbows on her knees, eyes locked on me with this stupid little grin. I swallow hard and refocus on Nora.

She lunges in with a one-two combo, sharp and fast, and I block the first hit but let the second graze my ribs on purpose. Can’t be too good. Can’t let her suspect. My instincts scream to counter hard, but I keep it light, tap her with a soft hook to the side. Enough to keep her on her toes, not enough to knock the wind out of her.

“You’re holding back,” Nora says suddenly, narrowing her eyes at me between strikes.

My stomach flips. “W-what? Me? Pfft, nah. This is, like… my full amateur power level. You know, gym rat tier.”

She barks a laugh, swiping at me with a jab I duck under. “Sure it is. Don’t worry, I’ve sparred with my fair share of cocky newbies. I’ll drag the real fighter out of you.”

Crap.

She drives in harder, faster. My reflexes kick in, miraculous reflexes. I dodge instinctively, slipping past her fist like my body already knew where she’d strike, and for a split second I almost retaliate with way too much force. I clamp down, turn it into a sloppy body shot that barely nudges her.

The crowd chuckles, some of them yelling encouragement. Nora smirks, clearly enjoying herself. “Not bad, not bad. But you’ve got more in the tank, I can feel it.”

Alix cups her hands around her mouth and yells, “Quit sandbagging, Marilla! You’re not made of glass!”

My cheeks flame. I glare at her, fists still up. “I am NOT sandbagging!”

But I am.

I’m practically dancing a fine line here. If I let too much slip, Nora will know. But if I keep holding back, she’ll call me out in front of Alix, and there’s no way I’m letting my crush think I’m some weakling.

So, I do the only thing I can think of.

One decent blow shouldn't hurt her too bad... right? I really don't want to beat up Alya's older sister.

Alright. One decent blow. Nothing crazy. Just… believable.

I steel myself, timing my breath with Nora’s next advance. She comes in sharp, fast jab toward my jaw. My reflexes spark like lightning, too fast, too precise. I dip low, twist my hips, and drive my fist right into her midsection.

Thud.

The impact reverberates up my arm, solid and clean, and Nora’s eyes widen just before she stumbles back, the air whooshing out of her lungs. She staggers, slamming lightly into the ropes of the mini-arena, one arm wrapping around her stomach as she coughs.

The whole gym goes quiet for a beat.

“Holy hell,” Nora wheezes, then lets out a laugh between coughs. “Where did that come from?”

My heart lurches, oh crap oh crap oh crap. Did I overdo it? She’s laughing though, so maybe she’s fine. My gloves hover in front of me, frozen halfway between defense and apology.

Before I can speak, Alix’s voice cuts through, sharp and bright.

“YEAH! That’s what I’m talking about!” she hollers, practically jumping out of her seat. Her smoothie nearly topples from her lap, but she doesn’t care. “Get it, Marilla! Mozzarella Meltdown, baby!”

The crowd bursts into cheers and laughter, clapping and egging us on.

I can feel my blush radiating through the gloves. I shoot Alix a glare that’s supposed to say shut up before I combust, but she just winks at me, smug as ever.

Nora finally straightens, shaking out her shoulders, a grin spreading wide across her face. “Okay… okay. You’ve got some bite after all, Dupain-Cheng. That one almost knocked the wind outta me.”

I rub the back of my neck with a gloved hand, trying to play it cool while my insides are screaming. “Guess I just… found the right opening.”

Nora chuckles, still catching her breath, then jabs a finger at me. “Don’t get cocky. You’ve got potential, but you need control. One of these days, I’ll get you sparring for real.”

The crowd disperses slowly, still buzzing with the excitement of the little show.

Alix, though, doesn’t move. She’s sitting there with that shit-eating grin, chin propped on her hand like she’s watching her favorite TV show.

I climb out of the ring, tugging at my gloves, my face still burning.

“Not. A. Word,” I hiss at her as I approach.

She smirks wider, leaning closer. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Pause. Then she whispers, “Mozzarella Meltdown, huh? Hottest move I’ve seen all week.”

I nearly trip over my own feet.

Damn her.

Why must she be smooth-

Is she even flirting with me intentionally?

UGH WHY DONT I KNOW!

"Anyways, Remember we got to head to the Hotel Chloe's dad runs for that school project of running jobs or whatever." Alix reminded me as she put on her rollerscates and helmet.

"FUUUCK, uh- mind giving me a piggyback ride? Thats like- a decent bit across town." I ask politely as Alix just stares at me.

"Me, whos smaller then you, try to skate, with you on my back?"

"Okay yeah, dumb idea." I groan facepalming, I'm screwed.

Alix snorts, adjusting her helmet straps. “Yeah, dumb idea. You’d flatten me in two seconds.” She rolls her shoulders, pushing off the wall and letting her wheels squeak against the gym floor. “Guess I’ll see you there. Don’t be late, Mozzarella Meltdown.”

I groan into my gloves, watching her skate off with the smugness of someone who definitely knows how to push all my buttons. “Mozzarella Meltdown,” I mutter under my breath, peeling the gloves off. “That nickname better not stick…”

As soon as she’s out of sight, I sling my bag over my shoulder and head for the back exit. If I try to hoof it across Paris, I’ll be sweaty, late, and absolutely not cool. But if I cheat a little? Well… perks of being secretly evil-ish.

I slip into a quiet alley, heart thumping with that familiar thrill. I pull the brooch from in my shirt, fingers brushing against the feather design.

“Duusu, spread my plumes.”

Blue light erupts, swirling feathers wrapping around me like a storm. My jacket sharpens into sleek lines, mask sliding over my face as wings flare out behind me. Vainquill stands where Marilla was a heartbeat ago.

I stretch, relishing the rush of power crackling under my skin. “God, I will never get tired of that.”

With a running start, I leap at the nearest wall, boots finding purchase as if the stone was made for me. One kick, two, and then I’m airborne, gliding across rooftops with my coat stretched like wings. The city hums below, Paris sprawled in golden afternoon light, and I feel alive.

I cross the distance in minutes, feathers scattering in my wake. The hotel looms ahead, pristine and towering, every inch as obnoxious as the spoiled brat who lives inside. I grin, diving toward a side alley just short of the front entrance.

“Duusu, fold my plumes.”

The blue light collapses back into my brooch, feathers dissolving into the air. I stumble a bit, adjusting my jacket, shaking out my hair. Just a girl again. No one the wiser.

I reach into my pocket and give Duusu almonds as she flies in, shes being weirdly quiet today, but eh, its fine.

I stride out of the alley, casually sauntering up to the hotel steps just as if I’d gotten here the boring way.

And sure enough, Alix is only just rolling up, panting a little from the effort, sweat glinting on her temple. She skids to a stop, blinking at me.

I cross my arms, smirking like I’ve been waiting forever. “Wow. Took you long enough.”

She stares, wide-eyed. “What the, how did you beat me here?! I skated!”

I shrug, feigning innocence. “Shortcut.”

Her mouth opens, then closes, clearly unconvinced, but she shakes her head, muttering. “Unbelievable.”

Inside, though, I’m fighting the grin of a lifetime. God, I’m good.

Duusu eats almonds in my pocket as I walk into the front room of the Hotel where the rest of the class is waiting.

Mrs. Bustier clears her throat, "Welcome everyone and a thanks to Mr. Bourgeois for allowing us to use the Le Grand Paris Hotel. You'll be given various duties to do around the hotel to give you experience in the work force."

Andre looked proud of himself standing beside Mrs. Bustier even if it was chloe who probably suggested this.

I hum standing behind Marinette, I glance and grin as the small beady eyes of Tikki glare at me from Marinette's purse.

Wait-

Im Vainquill, and my sister is Ladybug.

Gabriel is Hawkmoth and his son is Chat Noir.

Wow it really is a family hero vs villain match, huh?

I lean back against the polished marble column, hands shoved in my pockets, trying not to burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Family drama, hero drama, villain drama. It’s like Paris is just one giant soap opera, and somehow I got dropped right in the middle of it.

My sister is Ladybug, sworn protector of Paris, defender of justice, all that glittery nonsense.
Gabriel Agreste, the literal fashion mogul, is Hawkmoth, villain extraordinaire, and his son, of all people, is running around in leather pants pretending to be a cat.

And me? I’ve got a cracked peacock brooch and a bipolar feather gremlin snacking on almonds in my pocket.

“Mm, salty,” Duusu chirps, muffled by a mouthful of almond, then suddenly screeches, “BUT ALSO TOO SWEET, TOO SWEET, TOO SWEET!” before calming down again like nothing happened.

I pat my pocket casually, trying not to draw attention. “Chill.”

Marinette fidgets in front of me, clearly stressed about something, like always. She hasn’t noticed me staring at her purse yet, but I swear Tikki’s gaze is burning holes into my face.

“Alright,” Mrs. Bustier continues, “everyone will be partnered for their first hotel duties!”

The room breaks into groans and whispers. Chloe flips her hair, declaring that she will not be doing 'peasant labor,' while Sabrina dutifully nods like that’s gospel. Nino mutters something about cleaning not being his vibe.

I smirk. This is about to be fun.

Mrs. Bustier pulls out a clipboard. “Let’s see… Adrien and Chloe, you will be on Desk Duty."

I roll my eyes, 100% Chloe made her father assign them together so she can hang out with Adrien.

Mrs. Bustier scans her clipboard, glasses perched precariously on her nose. “Nino, Juleka, Rose, and Max, you’ll be on kitchen duty. Alix and Ivan, laundry. Make sure towels and sheets are delivered to all rooms promptly.”

I glance at Alix, who’s already flexing dramatically, clearly pleased with laundry duty. “Fancy wheels, huh?” I mutter under my breath.

Kim is to serve as doorman, and Sabrina will make sure the empty rooms are clean and ready for guests.

Mrs. Bustier clears her throat again, flipping through the next page. “Nathaniel… you’ll assist in banquet setup. Mylene, front-of-house assistance with guests and minor errand tasks.”

Most the class left to do there tasks as I lounged around in the main room with Alya and Marinette.

"Hmm, do you have Alya, Marilla or Marinette on your list?" Mrs. Bustier asked Andre noticing there names not on task assignments.

"No, seems I do not." He said humming looking over his paper.

Alya whispered to Marinette while glancing at Chloe and Adrien.

I leaned back and ignored the Complaining.

"Daddy! Here!" Chloe handed a piece of paper to Andre.

"Ah yes, thank you sweetie, Alya you'll be on... Trash duty."

Alya let out a gasp, I cant help but grin.

Alya’s jaw just about hits the marble floor. “Trash duty? Are you kidding me? Chloe, you little-”

Chloe smirks, arms crossed, flipping her hair like she just won a prize. “What? Trash goes with trash. It’s called efficiency.”

Andre turned, "And Marinette, you will be-"

He was cut off by the front door opening with a certain black haired man walking in with dark purple accents on his hair and beard, Kim pushed in two large carts as a woman followed.

Huh, So thats Jagged Stone. I muse lounging lazily.

Chloe of course gasps in surprise and joy recognising any popular person, bitch.

"Excuse me, this is a luxury hotel, not a zoo." Andre says annoyed walking over.

"Daddy, psst," Chloe says and Andre walks over before she whispers into his ear, probably informing him who Jagged is.

Fang lets out an annoyed growl, the crocodile just standing beside Jagged.

Andre's tune immediately did a 180, "Ah Mr. Stone, Welcome to the Grand Paris hotel! I'm Mayor Bourgeios, owner of this establishment, the most amazing hotel in all of paris. How may we serve you?"

"How do you think," Jagged stone deadpanned, "Im not here to admire your lobby."

Penny, Jagged's secretary, spoke up, "Jagged wants your most luxurious suite"

I tilt my head, watching the whole circus unfold. Jagged Stone strolling in with his croc like it’s just another Tuesday is peak Paris energy.

Andre’s practically falling over himself to bow and scrape, which is hilarious considering two seconds ago he was about to throw Jagged out like a drunk hobo.

“Of course, of course!” Andre says, wringing his hands, grinning so hard I’m worried his face will crack. “The most luxurious suite in all of Paris for our most luxurious rockstar!”

Jagged just grunts, “Yeah, yeah. Just make sure it’s got space for Fang.”

At that, Fang hisses loudly, tail smacking against the polished marble floor. The other people in the lobby flinch back, except me abd Hagged. I’m just sitting here thinking: damn, wish I could bring a croc everywhere. Nobody would mess with me again.

Chloe, meanwhile, is practically vibrating out of her skin. “Oh my GOSH, Jagged Stone! Daddy, Daddy, can we get him champagne? Imported caviar? A gold-plated bathrobe?”

Andre nods furiously. “Y-Yes! All of that!” He waves frantically at Kim, who looks like he regrets ever agreeing to play doorman. “Get the caviar! And… and towels! No, the special towels!”

Penny adjusts her glasses, clearly unimpressed. “Just the suite will do. And please, no distractions. Mr. Stone has a new album to work on, and he needs peace.”

“Peace?” Chloe snorts. “This is Paris, darling, not some farm!”

I lean against the column, muttering under my breath, “...and yet you sound exactly like a goat.”

Alya snorts so loud she almost chokes, earning a death glare from Chloe. Marinette shoots me a subtle don’t start look, but the corners of her mouth twitch.

Jagged claps his hands once, loud enough to cut through the chaos. “Alright! Enough jabberin’! Where’s this suite?”

I glance at the door opening, Vincent Aza, the asshole.

He sneaks poorly to a nearby counter to take some pictures of Jagged.

I get up humming, walk over beside him and somehow this hoe doesnt notice me.

So what do I do?

I snatch his camera off his neck, drop it, then stomp on it.

"HEY WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR!" Vincent screamed immediately shooting up and standing.

"You know its Illegal to take pictures of people without there Consent?" I deadpan as everyone else in the lobby is looking over having heard the commotion.

The whole lobby goes dead silent except for Fang’s low rumble, tail thumping the floor like a drumbeat.

Vincent, red-faced and sputtering, jabs a finger at me. “Y-You can’t just destroy my equipment! Do you have any idea who I am?!”

“Yeah,” I say flatly, folding my arms. “You’re the guy who hides behind potted plants and takes creepy stalker shots of people who didn’t ask for it. Congratulations. You’re a walking lawsuit.”

"Ugh, you again. Was stalking me at my past 36 shows and following my mother not good enough for you?" Jagged stone growled glaring at Vincent.

He immediately turned and smiled doing a 180, "So you do remember me! Im your biggest fan, were best buds remember?"

Jagged stone turned to Andre and pointed at Vincent, "Get this guy out of here and please ban him from your establishment, hes been following me for MONTHS! Even stalked my own bloody mother when she was just trying to go play bingo."

Andre gasps like Jagged just asked him to exile Vincent to the moon. “Of course, Mr. Stone! Immediately!” He waves his arms frantically. “Kim! Security! Someone drag this creep out!”

Kim, who honestly just wanted to play doorman and flex his muscles, perks up instantly. “Oh-ho, finally!” He cracks his knuckles and practically launches himself at Vincent.

Vincent yelps, trying to scramble backward, but Kim is already hauling him up by the collar like he weighs nothing. “No! You don’t understand! I’m press! I have credentials!”

“Credentials don’t give you the right to stalk people,” I mutter, arms crossed, watching with pure satisfaction. “Bye-bye, paparazzi.”

Jagged folds his arms, glaring daggers. “You’re lucky I don’t let Fang chew on you, mate.”

Fang hisses, snapping his teeth just inches away from Vincent’s leg as Kim drags him toward the door. Vincent squeals like a toddler and kicks uselessly. “This isn’t over!”

“Yeah, yeah,” I call after him. “Send us a postcard from irrelevance.”

The second the doors slam shut behind him, the tension in the lobby breaks. Chloe immediately scurries up to Jagged, batting her lashes like she’s auditioning for a role in his next music video. “Mr. Stone! I simply adore your work. Perhaps you’d like to-”

Jagged holds up a hand without even looking at her. “Kid, I’ve already got a manager. Don’t need another one.”

The look on Chloe’s face is priceless. Like someone just told her Prada went out of business. Alya snickers beside me, whispering, “You have to tell me you caught that.”

“Burned into my memory forever,” I whisper back, grinning.

Penny clears her throat, clearly eager to end the circus. “Suite. Now.”

Andre snaps back into obsequious host mode. “Of course, of course! Right this way, Mr. Stone.”

Jagged starts toward the elevators with Fang stomping along like he owns the place, Penny trailing behind with a sigh.

But before they vanish, Jagged pauses, squinting at me over his sunglasses. “Hey. Kid.”

I blink, pointing to myself. “Me?”

“Yeah. You.” He jerks his thumb at the crushed remains of Vincent’s camera. “Nice stomp. Remind me never to get on your bad side.” Then he grins, sharp and amused, before disappearing into the elevator.

The lobby goes quiet for a beat before Chloe shrieks, “UGH! Why does she get noticed and not me?!”

I just smirk, leaning back against my column like nothing happened. “Guess some of us don’t need to beg for attention.”

Alya actually chokes laughing this time. Marinette hides her giggles behind her hands. Chloe looks two seconds away from exploding into glittery rage.

Kim dragged the carts into the elevator as Penny and Jagged Stone went in aswell and began heading upstairs.

"Lets see, lets see... Ah Yes, Marinette, a Gofer. I have a job for you already." Andre said happily as he looked down and read the note.

So Marinette has to go fetch stuff, neat.

"HEY! Mayor guy! What job do I have!" I shout over to Andre, I already expect something terrible since its chloe were talking about.

Andre’s smile is far too sweet, far too innocent. Far too sinister. “Ah… Marilla! I have your task right here.” He reaches into his stack of papers, rifling through them like he’s performing some sacred ritual, humming a little tune as if he’s not about to ruin my entire life.

I lean back lazily, folding my arms. “This can’t be worse than trash duty. Surely.”

His grin widens like a shark spotting prey. “Oh, it’s… very special. And important. Absolutely critical.” He hands me a single sheet of paper with a flourish.

I glance at it and my stomach drops faster than a lead balloon.

“…Taxes?” I choke.

“Yes! Taxes,” Andre chirps, as if he’s just announced I get an all-expenses-paid vacation. “The hotel’s financial statements! Balance sheets! Expense reports! Everything needs checking, recalculating, and submitting! Right here, in the accounting office.”

I stare at him blankly. “…Wait. You… you’re not doing your own hotel’s taxes? Like… your job… isn’t that your responsibility?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, not even looking up. “I am far too busy managing the hotel in person. You, however… are so capable. Such a sharp mind! Naturally, you’ll handle this perfectly.”

I blink, trying to wrap my brain around the injustice. “You… you can’t just- why am I doing your taxes?”

“Oh, Marilla, you’re exaggerating! It’s just… paperwork. Fun, really.” He claps his hands, then gestures vaguely toward a small, cramped corner that’s been shoved into what must have once been a storage closet. There’s a tiny desk, a wobbling chair, and a mountain of papers that look like they could crush a small child. “Here’s your… office!”

Before I can protest further, he practically shoves me toward it. “You’ll do wonderfully! I’ll check back in a few hours!”

I stumble, blinking at the chaos of receipts, invoices, and spreadsheets piled sky-high on the desk. The fluorescent light flickers above, barely illuminating the disaster zone that has now become my workspace.

“Seriously?!” I yell, throwing my hands up. “Taxes?! I didn’t sign up for this! Why isn’t he doing his own damn taxes?!”

"Humans and there papers." Duusu laughs in my jacket pocket, poking her head out now that Andre is gone.

I flop dramatically into the wobbly chair, which groans like it’s about to collapse under the weight of my suffering. My eyes skim the endless sea of receipts, invoices, and scribbled nonsense Andre calls “records.” It’s like staring into the ninth circle of hell, only with less fire and more math.

“Kill me now,” I mutter, dragging a dusty ledger closer.

Duusu wiggles out of my jacket pocket, perching on the desk with her little feathers puffed up. “Ooooh, torture! Torture through paperwork!” she singsongs, spinning in a circle before collapsing dramatically. “This is worse than any sentimonster attack. Even I feel pity.”

I grab a pen and jab it toward a receipt. “Pity me harder. Look at this crap. He bought twelve champagne fountains last month. TWELVE. Who needs twelve champagne fountains?!”

Duusu gasps, clutching her cheeks like a soap opera star. “Clearly… a man compensating for something.”

I snort, biting my lip to stifle the laugh. “God, you’re evil.”

She wiggles her little feathered butt proudly. “And you like it. Don’t even deny it.”

I scribble numbers half-heartedly, muttering under my breath, “I should make a sentimonster accountant and drop it in Andre’s office. Let him try wrestling with receipts from luxury goose-feather pillow imports.”

Duusu gasps again, but this time her eyes gleam with chaotic glee. “YES. Oh yes, do it! A giant, terrifying calculator monster! One that keeps shouting ‘AUDIT!’ while chasing him through the halls!”

I snicker, leaning back in the chair until it creaks. “Oh my god, imagine. He’d never sleep again. Every time he closes his eyes, bam! ‘DO YOU HAVE YOUR RECEIPTS?’”

Duusu rolls onto her back, kicking her tiny legs in the air from laughing too hard. “And, and- it could slam giant paperclips at him! Pew pew!”

I grin, already picturing it. “Andre Bourgeois, brought down by the scariest thing imaginable: responsibility.”

For a second, I just stare at the pile of papers, the sheer weight of it crushing my soul. “You know what? I’m not above doing it. If this grade wasn’t hanging over my head, I’d summon ‘Sir Taxevader’ right now.”

Duusu props her chin on her little hands, staring dreamily. “Sir Taxevader… ooooh, that has a nice ring to it. So shiny… so deadly…”

“...So boring,” I mutter, dragging the pen across a column of expenses. “But damn, it would feel good watching him run screaming from a giant, sentient abacus.”

For a long beat, it’s just me, Duusu, and the cursed mountain of paperwork. My pen scratches across the page like nails on a coffin.

I sigh. “Alright. Fine. If I’m doomed to play accountant, then at least I get the satisfaction of knowing I could’ve destroyed this place with math alone.”

Duusu flops onto her back, tiny wings sprawled dramatically. “Villainy through bureaucracy. Truly the darkest of arts.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, glaring at another champagne invoice, “and I’m about to become its master.”

I was about to work till I heard a blast out the door, I open the door slowly and peak out.

"Say cheese," Pixelator shot a beam from his ugly eye thing and Chloe and Adrien burst into pixels finally.

"Ugh, do we have to help this akuma? Hawkmoth wont be mad if we skip this one right? I really hate this scumbag." I grumble as I close the door so Pixelator doesnt spot me.

"Ugh, do we have to help this akuma? Hawkmoth won’t be mad if we skip this one, right? I really hate this scumbag." I grumble as I close the door so Pixelator doesn’t spot me.

Duusu floats up beside my head, her little wings twitching like she just downed five espressos.
“Oooh, but Marillaaa, think about it, if Hawky finds out you ignored one of his precious little butterflies, he’s going to throw a tantrum. And you know what happens when he throws a tantrum…”

I sigh, rubbing my temple. “He lectures me for three hours about how justice and despair intertwine and how we’re sooo close to victory. Yeah, I know. Doesn’t make me hate it less.”

Duusu flips upside down and giggles like a maniac. “Exactly! So let’s goooo! We’ll make a dramatic entrance, maybe trip the akuma a little, sprinkle some chaos on the heroes. Fun!”

“Fine.” I grab my brooch, “But only because I like making Ladybug’s life miserable.”

"Duusu, spread my plumes!"

Duusu flies into the brooch and vanishes as I transform into Vainquill and open the door a bit to sneak out.

I hum walking around the empty lobby.

Pixelator probably disintegrated everyone in the general area by now- kinda creepy how quiet it is.

I pause as Marinette walks into the dining hall, "Adrien! Chloe! Ugh where did those two go."

Now I could just go look for the akuma, or go troll my sister whos secretly ladybug.

Mmm...

"Looking for someone, Blueberry?" I say jokingly as I lean against a pillar.

"AH- Wha... VAINQUILL?" Marinette jumps and backs away nervously.

I put a hand on my chest, "My my, you know who I am- well I uh, im a famous villain of course people know who I am."

I hum walking over, "I've been watching your class since my boss likes to akumatize a lot of your classmates, I'm kind of impressed at your craftsmanship skills." I just do casual conversation knowing Marinette is probably nervous. Since well, I'm a villain and she cant run away to transform at the moment and she doesn't want to reveal her identity, even do I secretly know it.

I tilt my head, letting my feathered mask glint in the faint light of the entrance hall as I take another slow step forward. The silence makes every click of my boots echo, dramatic enough to make Marinette flinch.

She swallows, trying to square her shoulders, but her voice cracks just a little when she says, “S-so what, you came here to… to stalk high schoolers now? Really scraping the bottom of the villain barrel, huh?”

I clutch my chest, gasping theatrically. “Stalk? Me? Oh, sweetheart, I don’t stalk. I observe. There’s a difference. I mean, you’re all just so entertaining. All those little dramas, crushes, secret projects… It’s like free cable TV.”

Marinette narrows her eyes, her nervousness giving way to irritation. “Well, congratulations, you’re creepy and unemployed. What an achievement.”

“Ouch!” I pretend to stagger back, like her words physically hit me. “Savage, Marinette. Absolutely savage. I think I felt that one in my spleen.”

Her lips twitch, like she doesn’t want to smile, but she holds firm. “If you’ve been watching us so much, you must be bored out of your skull. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Oh, believe me,” I purr, circling her like a shark circling a very nervous guppy, “I do have better things to do. But then I’d miss out on little gems like you tripping over your own shoelaces while staring at Adrien. Riveting television.”

Her face goes red so fast it’s like I flipped a switch. She sputters, pointing at me like she just caught me committing arson. “I! I do not! You- you weren’t even there!”

I grin beneath the mask, savoring her fluster. “Oh, but I was. Front row seat, popcorn and everything.” I lean closer, lowering my voice conspiratorially. “And honestly? It was adorable. Clumsy, but adorable.”

Marinette’s jaw works soundlessly, her cheeks burning. Finally, she snaps, “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be, oh, I don’t know, terrorizing a bank or building a giant evil birdhouse? Leave me alone!”

I hum thoughtfully, tapping my chin with one clawed finger. "Fair, anyways see ya! If you see Ladybug for me tell her that her suit sucks! Oh and theres an Akuma running around."

I turn around and walk to the elevator as Marinette looks flabbergasted but doesnt refute my claim, damn even she knows her suit is trash.

I click the elevator and hum heading upstairs.

I tap my foot and bop to the elevator music.

Ah, it feels so good to give Marinette paranoia that shes being watched from now on.

The Elevator opens as Pixelator was about to knock on jagged stone's room and turned to look at me.

"Yo, I assume Hawkmoth already told you who I am, so want help breaking down doors to find jagged stone?" I ask casually twirling my knife fan in my hand. 

Pixelator squints at me with his freaky camera-lens eyeball, head tilting like some creepy owl. “You're that other villain, right? Vainquill?”

“Bingo,” I say, fanning myself lazily with the blade edge, the steel catching the fluorescent light. “And unlike you, I actually have some taste. So, want me to help, or are you gonna keep knocking like some pushy salesman?”

Pixelator makes a frustrated noise, aiming his freak camera at the locked suite door. “Jagged Stone humiliated me! I’ll pixelize him into oblivion!”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, cue the tragic sob story. We all got burned by Paris’ golden boy at some point. Doesn’t make you special.” I tap the elevator frame with my fan. “Tell you what, if I help you get in, I get to mess with the rock star a little too. Deal?”

Pixelator growls but nods, raising his clunky pixel-blaster. “Fine. Just don’t get in my shot.”

I snort. “Sweetheart, I am the shot.”

I walk to the Door and I jam my knife into the lock, Im just hoping this works like a show as I wiggle the knife around hoping to magically unlock it.

The knife makes a loud clink inside the lock, and I wiggle it around like I’ve seen in every cheap spy movie ever. “Come on, come on… just like the movies, right? Right?”

Pixelator taps his foot behind me, his camera-eye whirring. “This is taking too long. Stand aside, amateur.”

I glance over my shoulder with the flattest stare I can muster. “Excuse you? Do you have any idea how hard it is to look cool while lockpicking with an audience?”

“Cool?” he repeats, voice grating. “We’re not here to look cool, we’re here to-”

Click!

The lock pops. I grin, smug as hell, pushing the door open with a flourish. “Ha! Who’s the amateur now?”

Pixelator stares at me, unimpressed. “You… wiggled it until it opened.”

“Details, details,” I say, fanning myself like I just solved quantum physics. “The point is, the door is open, and you couldn’t do it. Therefore, I win.”

Before he can retort, a loud GROOOOWL echoes from inside the suite. Fang.

Pixelator freezes, his finger hovering over his camera trigger. “That… wasn’t Jagged Stone.”

I grin under my mask, tilting my head just enough to make it theatrical. “Oh no, that was Jagged Stone’s roommate. A very bitey, very scaly roommate. Ever seen a crocodile eat a pixel?”

Pixelator twitches nervously. “Crocodiles can’t… can’t eat pixels.”

“Wanna test that theory?” I say sweetly, stepping aside and gesturing toward the dark suite.

Right on cue, Fang stomps out of the shadows, eyes glowing in the hall light. His jaws snap together with a loud CRACK, inches from Pixelator’s foot.

Pixelator yelps and stumbles back, camera jerking wildly. "Say cheese," He reached up and tapped the side of his head firing a beam that hit Fang and burst him into pixels, making him vanish.

"Good job, aaaanyways, JAGGED STONE! PENNY! WHERE ARE YOOOOOOU" I kick the door open as I look around the inside of the suite.

The suite is decked out like a rockstar jungle, guitar cases stacked in the corner, empty soda cans littering the table, some weird lava lamp bubbling away in the corner. But no Penny. No Jagged.

I take a few steps in, twirling my fan. “Hmm. Fancy. But where’s the star of the show?”

Pixelator barges past me, his lens whirring as he sweeps the room. “He’s here. He has to be here!” His voice is tight, manic. “I’ll pixelize him, and then he’ll never ignore me again!”

I lean against the doorframe, unimpressed. “Wow. Therapy exists, you know.”

There’s a soft shuffle from deeper inside, bedroom, maybe. Pixelator jerks toward it like a hound on the scent and charges. I follow, slower, enjoying the mess.

Jagged’s bedroom door bursts open. Inside: Penny, standing protectively in front of Jagged, who looks annoyed but not scared. “Look, mate, I don’t know who you think you are,” Jagged says, holding Fang’s empty leash with visible irritation, “but I’ve had plenty of weirdos bust into my room, and you’re not even in the top five.”

Penny’s voice is sharp, steady. “Stay back.” She’s got her phone in her hand like she’s ready to weaponize it.

Pixelator raises his arm, lens glowing. “Don’t bother running! Say che-”

I casually snap my fan open, stepping between them. “Hold up, hold up. Let’s not fry the rockstar just yet.”

Pixelator snarls. “You’re in my way!”

“Correction,” I say, letting my fan’s blade-edge glint. “I’m keeping this fun. What if we use him as a hostage against the heroes? Wouldnt that be fun since you have to capture the heroes anyways?"

Jagged blinks at me, then at Pixelator, then back at me again. “Hostage? Mate, I charge for appearances.”

Penny shifts, angling herself more firmly in front of him. Her voice is low but sharp. “You’re not touching him.”

Pixelator’s lens whirs dangerously, "I only need jagged stone as a Hostage, not you. Look into the lens!"

He shot a beam after clicking the side of his head as Penny exploded into pixels, vanishing.

Jagged freezes, staring at the empty space where Penny had been, his jaw slack. The leash dangles uselessly from his hand, swaying slightly.

“…What the... Penny?!” His voice cracks, raw panic breaking through his rockstar bravado.

Pixelator laughs, the sound grating and unhinged. “Yes! Finally! Now you’ll give me the attention I deserve, Jagged Stone! You’ll-”

I snap my fan shut with a sharp clack, cutting him off. “Whoa, whoa, slow down, Picasso. Didn’t I just say the point was to use him as a hostage, not traumatize him immediately?”

Pixelator whirls toward me, lens flashing. “She was in the way!”

I arch a brow beneath my mask. “Yeah, well, now your ‘hostage’ is a screaming, angry crocodile-less rockstar who’s about five seconds away from throwing a guitar at your face.”

Jagged glares at both of us, fists tightening. “Listen here, mate, first you pixel my assistant, now you barge in talkin’ about hostages, when I’m done with you two, I’m writing a whole album about how pathetic you are.”

I can’t help it, I cackle. “Oh, I like him. No wonder Fang sticks around.”

Pixelator snarls, raising to touch his head again, but I swat his arm with my fan before he can fire. “No, no, no. He’s leverage, remember? Heroes won’t risk their precious Parisian idol. They’ll come running, and then you’ll get your chance to pixelize them. Win-win.”

Suddenly a Yo-yo flew past the two villains and yanking Jagged stone back and behind Ladybug who spun her Yo-yo as a shield.

"Nice of you to show up Ladybug." I say mockingly as I snap my knife fan in two.

"So your ladybug, I heard such pathetic things about you. Look into the lens." Pixelator said before pushing the button on the side of his head over and over, firing blasts that Ladybug started dodging while throwing Jagged stone behind a wall.

I just move back as Ladybug starts grabbing stuff with her yo-yo and chucking it.

Pixelator dodges before continuing to rapid fire at Ladybug who starts running across the wall to dodge the shots.

"HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THAT!" I shout startled, WHEN COULD SHE RUN ON WALLS? "THATS CHEATING!"

I start chucking knives at her, missing as she kept dodging aswell.

Ladybug flips mid-run, her yo-yo catching onto a wall sconce as she slingshots herself across the room with a gymnast’s grace. She lands light as a feather, crouched, eyes sharp, and smirking just the tiniest bit at me.

“Cheating?” she throws back between breaths, dodging another of Pixelator’s beams. “It’s called training. You should try it sometime!”

I fling another knife with a snap of my wrist. “Training my ass! Gravity’s supposed to be a rule, not a suggestion!”

Pixelator’s voice crackles over mine, manic and angry. “Don’t ignore me!” He fires beam after beam, the walls flashing with digital static every time one strikes, wallpaper glitching into ugly pixelated squares.

Ladybug's arm gets grazed by a laser becoming pixelized as she shouts in pain.

"Come on bug, hand over the Eaaarings~" I say teasingly before chucking a knife at the cart she hid behind only for her to kick it and it slam into me and Pixelator.

"UGH, Why must villainy Hurt!" I say overdramatically as I get up to see Ladybug swinging with jagged stone out a window.

"Aaand they got away." I say annoyed as Pixelator got up snarling, "THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"

"Excuse me?" I say turning to the akumatized villain.

"If you didnt distract me I could've immortalized Jagged FOREVER ALREADY!"

"Yeah yeah, Listen. Hawkmoth gave you powers so you focus on ladybug and chat noir, I dont care about your stalker obsession." I wave my hand dismissively only to hear something that made me pause.

"Look into the lens."

"OH YOU MOTHER FU-" I turn around only to get shot by the beam.

I blink finding myself in a pure white void.

That bitch

That actual bitch

THAT ASSHOLE!

"FUUUUUUUUUUCK YOU!" I scream into the void, Hawkmoth better FUCKING PAY ME BACK! THIS WAS HIS AKUMA! 

I always help the akumas, im villain 2, and this bitch actually BETRAYED ME!

The void is… quiet. Too quiet.

I flop onto my back, arms splayed, staring up at nothing. Literally nothing. Just white. Pure, sterile white. Not even a ceiling. No up, no down, just me marinating in digital purgatory.

“…This is so boring,” I groan, rolling onto my stomach and pressing my cheek against the cold not-floor. “I hate it here. Ten out of ten, would not vacation.”

Duusu’s muffled voice rattles faintly from inside the brooch. “We could make a Sentimonster! Crack this place open! Shatter the pixels! Burn it down, Marillaaaa!”

I poke the brooch like it’s a sulky fishbowl. “I could. I really could. But why would I waste my one get-out-of-jail-free card on this? Pixelator? Ew. He doesn’t deserve my effort.”

Duusu hums, her voice wobbling between sing-song and shrill. “So you’re just gonna sit here? In whiteness? In voidness? In… nothingness?”

“Yes,” I mutter, hugging my fan to my chest like a pillow. “I’m pouting. It’s called self-care.”

For a while, I just lay there, listening to the distant bzzt-pzzzt echoes whenever Pixelator shoots in the real world. It’s like hearing traffic outside your apartment when you’re stuck inside. Maddening, but familiar.

I picture Ladybug out there, probably swinging around like she owns Paris. Chat Noir cracking bad jokes. Pixelator screeching about being ignored. Jagged Stone composing a diss track in real time. And me? Trapped in some creepy IKEA screensaver.

“…When I get out,” I mumble, squinting into the void, “I am going to make that camera-faced clown eat mercury.”

Duusu snickers, fluttering restlessly inside the brooch. “Oooh, that’s the spirit. Melt him, stretch him, pour him over a waffle!”

I laugh weakly, dragging a hand down my mask. “You’re unhinged, you know that?”

“Pot,” Duusu sings, “kettle.”

I sigh. “…Touche.”

So I stay there, sprawled in digital limbo, sulking, waiting. Because eventually? Ladybug always wins. Which means this pixel prison is going to pop like a soap bubble.

And when it does?

Im going to kick Pixelator in his stupid face.

I stare as a large screen appears in the void of a confused Ladybug.

Oh yeah, this void is tied to some photo right-

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY! LADYBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUG! FUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!" I scream at the top of my lungs.

I know im getting out eventually so why be a good person?

"Vainquill?" Ladybug says surprised crouching down to my photo.

"Go kick Pixelator's ass, His akumatized object is his funky glasses, that fucker backstabbed me!" I complain while crossing my arms.

"You are a villain, isnt backstabbing normal?" Ladybug deadpanned.

"NO! All the akumas love working with me! Its just Pixelator is a bitch!"

Ladybug pinches the bridge of her nose like she’s physically restraining herself from throwing hands with me through the screen. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be my enemy, you complain a lot.”

I point at her so aggressively that the pixels ripple. “EXCUSE me, ma’am, I was being a team player. I was helping your dumb akuma keep things spicy, and HE shot ME! That’s betrayal! That’s treason! That’s-” I flap my fan for emphasis, nearly smacking myself in the face, “-bad sportsmanship!”

Duusu snickers in the brooch, voice muffled but shrill. “Cry more, cry more! Pixel prison tears! Salty and delicious!”

Ladybug raises a brow. “Are you seriously telling me the big scary Peacock holder is sitting in a pixel-box whining about sportsmanship?”

“Yes,” I say flatly, flopping dramatically onto my back in the void like I’m fainting in an opera. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is? Do you know how much my reputation is suffering right now?”

Ladybug actually chuckles under her breath. “Wow. You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re welcome.”

Her smirk fades as she straightens, fingers curling around her yo-yo. “Fine. I’ll deal with Pixelator. But don’t think I’m saving you for your sake. You’ll just get purified if you get in my way.”

“Pfft. Please. I’ll get out, stab Camera-Face in the shins, and bounce. We don’t even have to make this a thing.”

Ladybug’s image flickers, already pulling away from the photo connection. “Stay out of my way, Vainquill.”

I grin under my mask, throwing her a two-finger salute. “Break a leg, Bugaboo. Preferably his.”

The screen cuts out, leaving me alone in white nothingness again. I groan into my fan. “Ughhh. Do you think she’s actually gonna hurry it up?”

Duusu giggles, bouncing against the inside of the brooch like she’s trying to break free. “She’s Ladybug. She always hurries it up. Tick tock, tick tock, the bug’s on the clock!”

I sigh. “Good. Because if I have to spend one more second in here, I’m redecorating this place with my own sanity.”

And sure enough, a few minutes later, the void begins to crack, black cracks spread across the void.

Chat noir finally decides to cataclysm the void.

I re-appear in the real world... and stumble, ugh that's disorienting.

I turn and stare at Penny who reformed aswell, "Jagged stone is cool, see ya."

I yeet myself out one of the windows and spread my jacket to start gliding like a paraglider, following the path of awkwardly placed cars and confused civilians.

Im fucking stabbing Pixelator in his shins.

The wind whips against my face as I glide, my jacket catching the air like a clumsy paper kite. People below are gawking up at me, half terrified, half horrified, and I can’t help but grin at their open mouths like I’m some kind of horror-movie Mary Poppins.

The trail’s obvious. Cars scattered like dominoes, glass glittering across the asphalt, screams echoing in the distance. Yeah, Pixelator’s throwing his tantrum somewhere close.

I bank hard, swooping lower until I spot them, Ladybug and Chat Noir, cornered in the middle of the street, both dodging glowing projectiles like they’re stuck in some kind of retro arcade boss fight. Pixelator’s standing there with his stupid camera-head, firing blasts as he taps the button on the side of his head over and over.

They’re focused on him. He’s focused on them. Nobody’s looking behind him.

I let the air slip out of my jacket and drop fast, landing silent as a whisper behind him. Crouched low, my fan already in hand, the blade snaps open with a delicious metallic hiss.

“Hey, buddy,” I mutter under my breath.

And I shank.

Steel meets shin. Once, twice, two quick jabs into the back of his legs. The pixels around his body glitch violently, his knees buckling as he screams like a man who’s just been ambushed by a sewer rat with a vendetta.

“OH- WHAT THE HELL?!” he stumbles forward, half-tripping over himself.

Ladybug freezes mid-yoyo swing. Chat Noir blinks like his brain just blue-screened.

"THATS FOR BETRAYING ME DUMBASS! HAWKMOTH WONT PROTECT YOU FOR SHIT AGAINST ME SINCE HE KNOWS IM RIGHT!"

I kick him in the stomach for good effort, I look up at the two heroes.

"You guys got this, I'm not dealing with this shit."

I just casually walk off like I'm not the second most wanted villain in Paris.

"YOU BIRD BI-" Pixelator began only for Ladybug to snatch off his Visor and snap it.

I just start booking it to the hotel as I hear her shout in the distance.

"MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!"

The wave of ladybugs fly to the hotel likely to fix the door I broke down since thats the only thing I really damaged.

I pause, how the fuck do I get in without whoever is in the lobby noticing me?

Alright no just walking out of the room I was shoved in to file taxes and acting innocent

I drop into an alleyway and turn back to regular ol' Marilla

"UGH! GIMME ALMO-" Duusu groaned and I just shove an almond into her mouth to shut her up as she flies into my pocket.

I put on my best, 'Im innocent' face and walk in to a glaring chloe.

"Ugh, Where were YOU?"

Ah yes, the bitch. "Running away from the Akuma, but seems Ladybug fixed it. At least I didnt smile and get captured like you, Bitch."

Chloe’s face went red instantly, like a kettle about to whistle. “EXCUSE ME? Do you even know who you’re talking to?”

“Yes. Unfortunately,” I shoot back, brushing past her like she’s some gum stuck on the sidewalk.

Her high-pitched gasp could probably be heard three blocks away. “Daddy! Did you hear what she just said to me?!”

Andre walks in a moment later, looking around seeing the Akuma was gone as he adjusted his tie.

"Mrs. Dupain-Cheng, you shouldnt talk to my daughter like that. Im using my time to let your gain precious experience for Work-Experience Day." Andre began like he wasnt a push over and was actually someone serious

I just roll my eyes as the rest of the class begins to gather with Mrs. Bustier aswell.

I pinch the bridge of my nose so hard I swear I’m leaving dents in my skull.

Chloe’s still sputtering like a teakettle, her dad puffing his chest out like some knockoff aristocrat, and Mrs. Bustier has that saintly smile plastered on her face that screams, Please, children, let’s all behave.

“Mrs. Dupain-Cheng-” Mayor Bourgeois stresses my name like it’s some courtroom indictment, “-my daughter has a bright future ahead of her, and I won’t tolerate you sabotaging her growth with hostility.”

I snort, folding my arms. “Pretty sure she sabotages herself just fine.”

“WHAT?!” Chloe screeches, stomping her heel so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t crack the marble floor. “Daddy, are you hearing this?! Expel her! Arrest her! Throw her in the Seine!”

Bustier jumps in quickly, hands raised like she’s diffusing a bomb. “Girls, please. This is supposed to be about teamwork and learning from professionals. Let’s try to keep things civil.”

I bite my tongue before I say something about Chloe’s definition of 'professional' being getting her nails painted during math class. My fists are practically twitching for a fight, but with the mayor here? Yeah. Not worth spending the rest of the week dealing with lawyers and angry phone calls to my parents.

So instead, I plaster on my fakest smile and lean toward Chloe just enough for her to know I’m doing it on purpose. “Of course, Mrs. Bustier. I’ll be civil. I promise I won’t even call her bitch again, for today atleast.”

Mrs. Bustier’s smile twitches. Chloe gasps like I just stabbed her in the Prada. Andre looks like he’s reconsidering his entire life.

Mrs. Bustier cleared her throat and turned to Andre, "Thank you for this work experience Mr. Bourgeius. Im sure we'll remember it for a long time."

Andre nodded, "And so will I, ah, yes, Jagged stone has Also given you all free tickets to his concert tonight."

Huh that's a slight change, it was only to Alya, Marinette and Adrien originally. Neat.

I take my own ticket happily. 

I slip the ticket between my fingers, flipping it like a poker chip while Chloe snatches hers like it’s a crown jewel. She’s already preening, holding it up in front of Sabrina like she personally bought out the whole stadium.

“Of course Jagged would invite me,” she says loud enough for the chandelier to rattle. “I am Paris’ number one influencer, after all.”

I roll my eyes so hard I think I see my brain. “Right, because shouting at people in class counts as influence.”

She whirls on me, but Bustier swoops in again like the desperate peacekeeper she is. “Alright, everyone! Let’s thank the mayor one last time, then head back to school for dismissal.”

The chorus of polite “thank yous” rings out, well, mostly. Chloe’s sounds more like a declaration of war.

I tuck my ticket into my pocket, Duusu wiggling against the fabric like she already knows I’m gonna drag her along later. “Ohhh, a concert? With loud music? And lights? And snacks??” she squeaks from inside, muffled but vibrating with excitement.

I pat the pocket discreetly. “Relax, birdbrain. We’re not even there yet.”

Mrs. Bustier herds us toward the exit like a flock of very unwilling sheep. My classmates are buzzing, Alya’s already plotting how many live posts she can make, Nino’s bouncing on his toes, and Marinette’s fidgeting so hard I swear she’s about to chew her ticket. Adrien smiles like sunshine, of course, while Chloe smirks like she thinks Jagged’s going to dedicate the entire show to her.

I hum, I think this is the only Akuma so far I havent used a sentimonster for.

Neat.

I drink a dr. pepper from a Jagged stone cup as I'm sat between Chloe and Sabrina, both glaring at me.

This must be my punishment for being a villain.

Karma is real and shes a bitch.

This is another difference, theres seats to this small consert instead of people standing around.

Guess I really am changing the story even if these small ways.

The lights suddenly flicker on as Jagged stone stands in the two eifle tower glasses.

I know Marinette made them but god they look awful on jagged-

Sister, you did good, but they do not work for jagged at all but people cheer like hes wearing the best outfit ever.

Its literally just his normal outfit but with the glasses.

"HELLO PARIS! This song is dedicated to the two who saved my life!" He says through the microphone

I hum and bop my head a bit to the piano rendition of the Miraculous ladybug theme.

What a nice way to end today.

Chapter Text

"So... Whos your guys favorite hero?"

Its a normal day when I ask the question, im lounging casually in the Library on one of the tables, hanging out with Marinette, Adrien, Nino and Alya.

Alya looks up instantly, like she’s been waiting her whole life for this question. “Ladybug. Obviously. She’s amazing. She’s smart, brave, and she always saves the day.”

Adrien nods, soft smile tugging at his lips. “I agree. Ladybug’s incredible. She always thinks of everything, even under pressure.”

Nino leans back, tapping his pencil against the table. “Nah, Chat Noir’s where it’s at. Dude’s funny, loyal, and c’mon, his cataclysm is OP.”

Marinette hesitates, fiddling with the strap of her bag, but eventually clears her throat. “I-I’d pick Chat Noir too. He, um, doesn’t get as much credit as Ladybug, but he’s always there, backing her up.”

Alya shoots her a look like traitor, but Marinette just shrinks into her seat, cheeks pink.

I smirk, letting the silence drag just long enough for them all to look at me. “Both suck.”

Four heads whip in my direction.

“What?!” Alya practically screeches.

I shrug, twirling a pen between my fingers. “Ladybug’s a bug, and bugs are gross. And Chat Noir’s just… knockoff Catwoman energy. Next.”

Adrien stiffens like I just insulted his ancestors. “Knockoff- Chat Noir’s a hero! He risks his life every day!”

“Yeah,” I say, leaning forward with a grin sharp enough to cut glass, “and he does it while making the worst puns I’ve ever heard in my life. If Paris is relying on that, we’re doomed.”

Alya’s sputtering, Nino’s laughing his ass off, Adrien’s still trying to form words, and Marinette, sweet, poor Marinette, just gapes at me like I slapped her across the face.

“You hate Ladybug?!” she blurts, way too loud for a library.

“Yup.” I pop the “p” for effect. “She’s just… ugh. Bugs freak me out. Creepy little legs, buggy eyes, ew. Paris could’ve gotten literally any other theme, and we’re stuck with Miss Exoskeleton. Hard pass.”

Marinette’s jaw works like she wants to say something, needs to say something, but all that comes out is a strangled, “She’s not... She’s not gross!”

I lean back, hands behind my head, smug as hell. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

Marinette looks like she’s one more word away from combusting on the spot.

I love causing chaos on purpose.

Adrien’s ears are pink now, and he leans forward, all golden-boy serious. “Ladybug isn’t gross. She’s... she’s brave. She’s the reason Paris is safe at all.”

Nino’s wheezing, trying to catch his breath from laughing. “Bro, stop, you’re gonna pop a vein defending your superhero crush.”

Adrien nearly chokes. “She’s not my-! I just respect her!”

Alya, meanwhile, is about ready to climb across the table and throttle me. “Marilla, you have no taste. Ladybug is iconic. Do you know how many times she’s saved this city? She deserves respect, not- not being called a bug!”

I smirk, stretching my legs out across the table just to piss her off more. “Okay, okay, she’s an iconic bug. Congratulations, Alya, you stan a cockroach.”

Marinette slams her hands on the table, the loudest noise she’s ever made in her life. Everyone stares. Her face is red all the way to her ears. “LADYBUG IS NOT A COCKROACH!” she yells, way too loud for the librarian’s comfort.

A sharp 'Shhh!' hisses from somewhere between the shelves, but Marinette doesn’t even notice.

I raise my brows, pretending to be shocked. “Wow, Marinette, I didn’t know you were so passionate about bug rights.”

Her eye twitches. “I-I’m just saying, she’s… she’s… amazing, and brave, and… she doesn’t deserve to be called gross!”

Adrien looks at her a little funny, but he’s too busy glaring at me to connect dots. Alya is vibrating like she’s two seconds away from launching into a Ladyblog sermon.

I grin, lean back on my hands, and say sweetly, “Y’know what? Maybe you’re right. Ladybug’s not a cockroach.”

Alya exhales like she just won.

“She’s more of a beetle. Big shell. Crunchy.”

Nino completely loses it, sliding halfway out of his chair. Adrien facepalms. Alya screams into her hands. And Marinette… well, if she wasn’t red before, she’s a full-on tomato now.

I love this game.

"Yall want to watch Alix's skating competition in a few days? Its at some skate park, its for a few hundred dollars." I say deciding to change the topic.

"Oh! Sure! Oh wait- Hey Marilla do I have anything on that day?" Adrien said before looking at me.

"Nope, clear scheduel." I say to the confused looks of Nino, Alya and Marinette.

"Dude, uh- Why did you ask Marilla? Doesnt your Dad's secretary do your schedule?" Nino asked as I just grinned

"Why would Nathalie need to do his schedule when Adrien has his own secretary?" I grin making it clear what im implying.

Reasonably, they lose it.

"YOU GOT A JOB?" Marinette yelled startled, causing 'shhhs' from nearby.

I lean back, smug as all hell, twirling the pen like it’s a victory flag. “Yep. Officially on the Agreste payroll. Assistant, secretary, wrangler of Adrien’s dumbass, take your pick.”

Adrien groans. “I don’t need wrangling.”

“You needed me to tell you your own schedule two seconds ago,” I shoot back, smirking.

Nino leans forward, elbows on the table. “Wait, wait, so you’re telling me… Adrien Agreste, model extraordinaire, has you as his secretary? How did that even happen?!”

I stretch out, all casual confidence. “I was hired. Duh. They realized I’m competent and stylish, unlike Nathalie who runs on black coffee and despair.”

Alya’s eyes gleam like she’s about to write a full expose. “Do you get, like, paid for this? Or is this some weird family-favor thing?”

“Of course I get paid,” I say proudly, then freeze.

The grin falters. My pen stops twirling. Paid. Right. Salary. Money. Oh shit.

I blink, staring at the ceiling like it holds answers. “...Wait. Wait wait wait. I never went to the bank.”

Adrien tilts his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” I say slowly, brain spiraling, “I was supposed to get some card, right? Like, payroll card? With my paycheck? And I never picked it up. Which means I have no idea how much I’m actually being paid.”

There’s a pause. Then Nino just bursts out laughing so hard he nearly falls out of his chair again.

“You’ve been working without even knowing your paycheck?!” he wheezes. “Bro, that’s, like… peak Marilla energy.”

Alya slaps her forehead. “Oh my god. Girl, you’ve been an assistant-slash-secretary for weeks! How do you not know?!”

I throw my hands up. “I don’t know! I’ve been busy, okay? Akuma attacks, concerts, dealing with Chloe’s banshee screeching! My brain’s been occupied!”

Adrien, bless his sunshine heart, looks genuinely guilty. “You should’ve said something, Marilla. Father probably assumed you already got your card from accounting.”

“Ohhh, so now it’s my fault?” I groan dramatically, face-planting onto the table. “I could be making five euros or five hundred a week, I have no clue. I could be rich right now. Or broke. Or rich and broke at the same time. I hate this.”

“Unbelievable,” Alya mutters, shaking her head like she’s watching a car crash.

Marinette, bless her, actually tries to be helpful. “W-well… maybe you should, um… go to the bank? After school? And ask?”

I groan into the wood of the table. “That would be the responsible thing to do. Which means I don’t wanna.”

“Marilla,” Adrien sighs, rubbing his temple.

I peek up at him with a grin. “So, boss, how much am I worth? Am I, like, a bargain bin secretary, or do I get the deluxe paycheck?”

His face goes so pink he hides behind his hand, and Nino starts laughing again.

Adrien drags his hand down his face like he’s aged ten years in two minutes. “You’re not a bargain bin anything.”

“Ohhh, so deluxe then,” I say, smirking as I lean back in my chair. “Glad to know I’m a premium purchase.”

Nino’s choking on his laughter. “Bro, you make it sound like you’re a DLC pack.”

“Exactly,” I snap my fingers at him. “Secretary DLC. Comes with sarcasm, scheduling, and stabbing skills.”

Alya pinches the bridge of her nose. “You did not just say stabbing skills out loud in the middle of the library.”

I shrug, stretching. “Hey, I never said I was a good secretary. I said deluxe, not corporate-approved.”

Marinette hides her face in her hands, whispering, “Why are you like this…” but her ears are red, so she’s laughing even if she won’t admit it.

Adrien just gives me that long-suffering look, the one that says he’s trying really hard not to smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Correction,” I say smugly, pointing my pen at him like it’s a sword. “I’m irreplaceable.”

And then the librarian slams a ruler against her desk with a sharp crack. “Quiet!”

All of us jump like we’ve just been caught committing a federal crime. Nino nearly tips his chair, Alya clamps a hand over her mouth, Marinette squeaks, Adrien straightens like he’s at a photoshoot-

And me? I lean forward, grin lazy and sharp, and whisper just loud enough for my friends to hear: “…Worth every cent.”

Nino actually falls out of his chair this time.

The librarian shoots us another withering glare as Nino wheezes on the floor, and I’m trying very, very hard not to laugh loud enough to get kicked out.

Adrien sighs again, that soft, long-suffering sigh that means “I tolerate you but I shouldn’t.” He offers a hand to Nino. “Come on, man, before she throws us out.”

“Bro, I can’t-” Nino clutches his stomach, half-crying from laughter. “Secretary DLC, stabbin’ skills, premium pack- oh my god.”

Alya groans, smacking him lightly upside the head once he’s up. “You’re encouraging her.”

“Encouraging?” I grin. “He’s validating. Big difference.”

Adrien rubs his forehead. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”

I tilt my head, smirk tugging at my lips. “Sure. I take mozzarella sticks very seriously.”

Marinette snorts before she can stop herself, immediately covering her mouth like she committed treason. Adrien shoots her a betrayed look; she just squeaks and buries her face in her notebook.

“See?” I say smugly, tapping my pen against the table. “I’m hilarious and irreplaceable.”

The librarian slams her ruler against the desk again. This time, I’m the only one who doesn’t flinch.

Instead, I grin and whisper, “Worth double.”

"How does this work, uh- Hi I'm here to um, pick up a credit card? I think?" I say awkwardly to the bankteller, it was the bank Nathalie texted me to head to so I could pick up the card with my paycheck on it.

The teller blinks at me like I just walked in wearing clown shoes. “...Do you mean a debit card?”

“Maybe?” I scratch the back of my neck, leaning against the counter like I belong here. “Like, the card where my paycheck money goes. Nathalie said it’d be here.”

Their expression softens a little, sympathy? amusement? pity? and they start typing on their computer. “Name?”

I hesitate. “...Marilla Dupain-Cheng.”

The teller’s fingers freeze on the keyboard. Their polite little customer-service smile falters for half a second before snapping back into place.

“Uh-huh,” they say carefully. “One moment.” Clickety-clack, the screen refreshes, their eyes darting back and forth.

I drum my fingers against the counter, already regretting not just sending Nathalie to do this for me. Behind me, someone sighs loudly in the line.

Finally, the teller looks back up. “Yes, we have your account set up here, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” The way they say Miss Dupain-Cheng makes me wince internally, like the name’s a pair of shoes two sizes too small. “We’ll need to see a form of ID before I can release your card.”

I fumble out my birth certificate, it was really hard to search around my parents room to find it without them knowing. "Here you go," I hand it over.

The teller studies the paper, flips it over like it might sprout holograms, then nods briskly. “Alright, that’s acceptable. One moment, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

They vanish into some little backroom, and I stand there sweating bullets, imagining alarms going off, secret agents repelling from the ceiling, Nathalie appearing out of nowhere to scold me for breathing wrong. Instead, the teller comes back holding a little envelope like it’s just another Tuesday.

“Here you are,” they say, sliding it across.

I rip it open like a raccoon going through trash, pull out the shiny rectangle, and nearly choke. A real bank card. With my fake name. That’s mine.

“Uh,” I mumble, trying to play it cool, “how much… uh, how much money’s on there?”

The teller types, clicks, glances at the monitor. “Your balance is currently twenty-three thousand, four hundred and ten euros.”

My jaw hits the fucking counter. “TWENTY-THREE WHAT!” I squeak, then slap both hands over my mouth because I absolutely just screeched that in public.

The lady behind me in line snorts. Someone else mutters “rich kid.”

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammer, eyes wide, vision tunneling like I just got hit with Chat Noir’s baton. “Did you say... twenty-three thousand? As in, twenty-three with three zeroes??”

“Yes,” the teller says smoothly, like they didn’t just hand me the GDP of a small village. “Would you like to set up mobile banking today?”

I just stand there, card clutched in my sweaty little gremlin hands, mind racing. Twenty-three thousand. For being Adrien’s secretary. For a month.

I’m a broke high schooler who usually gets ten euros a week for allowance and occasionally steals cheese sticks from the fridge, and now I’m apparently Scrooge McDuck with a side hustle.

I stagger backwards, card pressed to my chest like it’s holy scripture. “Holy shit,” I whisper. “Being Adrien’s secretary pays like… crime.”

Well, it technically is paying like crime since being Adrien's secretary is the cover story of me being Vainquill and reporting to gabriel aka hawk moth, so, damn crime really does pay.

I stumble out of the bank like I’ve just been knighted. The sun’s too bright, the pigeons look judgmental, and the world suddenly feels like it’s made of solid gold and I’m the only idiot walking around barefoot.

Twenty-three thousand. On a plastic rectangle with my fake name on it.

Duusu peeks his tiny head out of my jacket pocket, eyes wide. “You look like someone just told you you’re secretly royalty.”

“I feel like someone told me I’m secretly royalty,” I hiss, clutching the card tighter. “Do you have any idea how much almond money this is?!”

He gasps. “...infinite almonds.”

“Infinite almonds,” I whisper reverently, staring at my reflection in a bus stop window like I don’t recognize the girl gawking back. My knees wobble. I might actually pass out.

Then the paranoia kicks in. Twenty-three thousand euros means Nathalie, or more likely Gabriel 'I’m Totally Not Hawk Moth' Agreste, just casually wired a stupid amount of hush money into my fake-ass bank account.

Which means he trusts me.

Which means if I mess up, he really knows how much he can take away.

I slide the card into my wallet, heart pounding. “Okay. Okay. Don’t panic. Just… pretend you’re normal. Normal rich girl. Normal secretary. Totally not a bird gremlin who stabs people’s shins for fun.”

Duusu hums thoughtfully. “You’re doing that thing again where you monologue out loud in public. People are staring.”

Sure enough, a businessman passing by gives me a weird look. I bare my teeth at him. He hurries off.

I sigh, tug my jacket tighter around me, and mutter, “Yeah, crime definitely pays. But holy shit, I might need a bigger wallet.”

"Mozerella sticks."

"Macarons"

"Mozerella sticks"

"Macarons"

"Mozerella sticks"

"Macarons"

I glare at my twin, Marinette, we're both sitting on the couch in the living room and she said the most blasphemous thing ever.

THAT MACARONS WERE BETTER THEN MOZERELLA STICKS!

I slap the couch cushion between us like it’s a judge’s gavel. “OBJECTION! Mozzarella sticks are golden-fried heaven wrapped in breading. They stretch! They ooze! They’re God’s perfect gift to humanity!”

Marinette crosses her arms, nose in the air like she’s already won the case. “Macarons are delicate, colorful, perfectly balanced bites of art. Mozzarella sticks are greasy junk food.”

“Greasy divine junk food!” I shoot back, leaning so close my forehead almost bonks hers. “Macarons shatter like a sad cookie if you breathe on them wrong. Mozzarella sticks are battle-tested! You could throw one at someone’s face and it’d still taste amazing afterward.”

Marinette gasps like I’ve just declared war on France itself. “Take that back! Macarons are the epitome of Parisian elegance!”

“Elegance doesn’t fill your soul with gooey cheese, Mari.” I clap my hands together, triumphant. “Point: mozzarella sticks.”

She narrows her eyes, cheeks puffing red. “Fine. Then we settle this the only way we know how.”

We both freeze. Slowly, dramatically, we turn toward the kitchen.

“...Cook-off,” we say in unison.

I shove her off the couch and turn to run downstairs into the bakery to get into the kitchen before her.

"CHEATER!" Marinette yells getting up and running after.

I slam through the swinging kitchen door like a gladiator entering the arena. Flour dusts the air, pans gleam under the lights, and the scent of fresh bread lingers like a divine chorus.

I skid to the counter, already yanking open drawers. “Cheese drawer, cheese drawer, WHERE’S THE HOLY GRAIL?”

Marinette barrels in after me, apron already tied like she was born ready for this. “Don’t even think about stealing Dad’s mozzarella stash! He’s saving that for tomorrow’s pizza order!”

“Not anymore!” I declare, dramatically clutching the block of mozzarella to my chest like Simba on Pride Rock.

The kitchen turns into a war zone before either of us even touches an oven.

Marinette’s side of the counter is laid out like a general’s battle map: perfectly measured almond flour, powdered sugar, food coloring neatly capped, piping bags ready, baking sheets lined with parchment like soldiers waiting for orders.

My side? A block of mozzarella, a bag of flour, one egg I’m holding like it might explode, and a vague plan.

Duusu peeks out of my pocket, eyes wide with anticipation. “Ooooh, chaos cooking. My favorite kind.”

Meanwhile, across the counter, Tikki whispers in Marinette’s ear from the purse. “Focus, Marinette. You’ve done macarons before, you just need to keep the meringue stiff but not too stiff.”

Marinette ties her hair back, eyes glinting with determination. “Perfection is precision.”

I slam the mozzarella down like a wrestler prepping his opponent. “Victory is melty cheese.”

Marinette’s Side – Macarons
She starts like she’s hosting a YouTube tutorial, sifting almond flour and powdered sugar together in slow, graceful motions. “Consistency is everything,” she mutters, whisking egg whites until they foam, then adding sugar in perfect intervals.

Her whisking is rhythmic, almost meditative, until stiff, glossy peaks form. She folds in the sifted almond flour and powdered sugar with a spatula, counting each stroke like it’s sacred. “Thirty-five folds. Not thirty-four. Not thirty-six. Thirty-five.”

She pipes the batter onto her tray, each circle uniform, identical, no hesitation. She even taps the tray on the counter to knock out air bubbles like it’s second nature. “See, this is elegance.”

Tikki hums happily. “Ladybug precision at its finest.”

My Side – Mozzarella Sticks
I, meanwhile, crack my one egg into a bowl, bits of shell falling in. I fish them out with my fingers. “Protein boost,” I declare.

I hack the mozzarella into uneven sticks. Some are fat like bread loaves, others skinny as pencils. “Variety!”

I dunk them haphazardly in flour, egg, and breadcrumbs. My breadcrumb bag rips halfway through, so I just pour a mountain of them on the counter and roll the sticks in it like they’re snow angels.

Duusu claps her tiny hands. “Yes! Embrace the chaos!”

Oil sizzles angrily in the pan as I plop my breaded monstrosities into it. They hiss and bubble like I just offended them personally, but soon that golden crust starts forming. Cheese oozes out of one early. I panic, grab another stick, and shove it on top like a band-aid. “There. Fixed.”

Back to Marinette
She slides her trays into the oven, timer already set. “Macarons require patience. You let the shells dry before baking so they don’t crack. You monitor every second. They rise with feet if you do it right.”

She presses her hands together like a surgeon preparing for an operation. “Perfection, or nothing.”

Back to Me
I pull my mozzarella sticks out of the oil, pile them onto a plate, and burn my fingers trying to arrange them. “Ow- ow- ow- worth it.”

The cheese stretches in gooey strands between the sticks, dripping like lava. I beam. “Perfection is subjective.”

Duusu practically drools. “Those look like happiness fried in oil.”

The Showdown
We plate our creations at the same time.

Marinette’s macarons: pastel-perfect, glossy tops, delicate little feet, lined up like jewels in a display case. A painter’s palette of elegance.

My mozzarella sticks: lopsided, crusty, but golden and glorious, stretching cheese strings like edible magic tricks. They smell like comfort food heaven.

We set them on the counter between us. Silence hangs thick.

Then, at the same time, we both grab one of the other’s creations.

Marinette takes a cautious bite of a mozzarella stick. Her eyes widen as the cheese stretches, gooey and warm, salty and indulgent. For a second, she looks like she’s questioning every macaron she’s ever baked.

I bite into a macaron. The crisp shell gives way to a chewy, airy center, sweetness melting on my tongue. I blink. “...Okay. That’s unfair.”

We stare at each other, chewing slowly.

Finally, I point my mozzarella stick at her like a sword. “Truce?”

She sighs, holding up a macaron. “Truce. But macarons are still better.”

“Lies.” I grin, mouth full of cheese.

Duusu and Tikki both whisper at the same time from our pockets, exasperated but amused. “Humans are so weird.”

"YOU FOOL! YOU DARE CHALLENGE ME AT MY OWN GAME!" I shout at the top of my lungs.

Max is leaning forward desperately trying to get out of my combo, I keep stopping for moments just to let him think he has a chance only to start barraging him again.

"MARILLA! KICK HIS ASS!" Alix cheers from behind me.

"YOU GOT THIS!" Kim cheers up Max.

We're currently at Max's house having a gaming tournamenet.

“ITS TIME FOR MY INFINITE COMBO SPECIAL” I roar, voice cracking like an overdriven amp.

Max is hunched over his controller, eyes gone wide-pixel, fingers flying like he’s trying to perform open-heart surgery on the console.

I let him breathe for a beat, too much mercy would ruin the drama, then I hammer the combo that makes his character explode into a glittering ragdoll across the screen.

“NOOO!” he howls, cartoon-tragic. The whole living room loses its mind. Alix is on her feet, flailing a little, and Kim is shouting technical advice like he’s commentating the World Cup.

I sit back in the sagging couch like a queen assessing her kingdom, controller resting in my hands. “Step one of domination: look intimidating. Step two: press all the buttons until victory appears.”

Max glares up at me. “You cheat.”

“Cheat?” I snort, leaning forward. “Max, I don’t cheat. I attain superiority through superior vibes and questionable life choices.”

He mutters something about 'latency' and 'lag' while tapping his headset like he can blame the hardware for his soul’s collapse. I watch his face, savoring his spiraling hope. It’s an art form.

Alix plops back onto the carpet, grinning like she just witnessed a live beheading. “Bro, she DESTROYED you. That was a flawless execution.”

Kim leans forward, pointing at Max’s controller. “No, no, see, if you’d mashed the guard-cancel right there, you could’ve-”

Max snaps his head toward him. “Do you want to fight her next? Be my guest, Kim. Be my. Guest.”

Kim smirks. “Oh, gladly. I’ve been waiting for this.” He cracks his knuckles like he’s about to walk into the octagon instead of a living room brawl.

I tilt my head, grinning slow. “You sure about that, sunshine? You just saw what happened to Max. His soul left his body. You really wanna join him in digital purgatory?”

Kim shrugs, sitting down beside me and grabbing the second controller. “Please. I’m a natural athlete. Hand-eye coordination is my thing. You’re going down.”

Alix immediately jumps up, voice cracking with excitement. “YESSS, FINALS ROUND, LET’S GOOOO!”

Max sulks, but he’s already pulling up a notepad on his phone to take stats like he’s a tournament judge. “Fine. Best of three. Ruleset standard. No spamming.”

I snort so hard I almost choke. “Buddy, my entire strategy is spamming. You’re basically asking me not to exist.”

Kim laughs, confident, ready. “Then it should be easy for me to counter.”

The game loads up, tension sizzling like we’re seconds away from a kaiju battle. Alix crouches at the edge of the TV stand like she’s front row at a boxing match. Max clears his throat, dead serious: “Round one. Fight.”

And I immediately body Kim’s character with a button-mashing opener so vicious his health bar drops by half before he even realizes what happened.

“WHAT! NO- WAIT!” Kim’s voice cracks as he mashes every button like his life depends on it.

Alix collapses backward, wheezing. “OH MY GOD, SHE DIDN’T EVEN LET YOU MOVE!”

“Mercy is for the weak,” I cackle, already lining up another juggle combo.

Kim’s character ragdolls across the screen, and Max quietly mutters, “This is actually painful to watch.”

I lean back, grinning ear to ear. “Step three of domination: never let your opponent breathe.”

I love having friends, this is amazing.

I cant wait to do more villain shit.